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Fund
THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.
ir.rn s ~w :e jl Jj ',s ;c if >j .
OF
SAMUEL JOHNSON, JL. L, „ JD
,¥OL,I,
NT a rice t place'iicbFieLd.
JJi-a^n ty C. Stanfidd, R.'»d.
THE LIFE OF
SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.
TOGETHER WITH
THE JOURNAL OF A TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES
BY
JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
NEW EDITIONS
WITH NOTES AND APPENDICES
BY
ALEXANDER NAPIER, M.A.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, VICAR OF HOLKHAM
Editor of the Cambridge Edition of the Theological Works of Bat row
VOL. I.
LONDON
GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREET
COVENT GARDEN
1884
CH1SWICK PRESS : C. WHll'TINGMAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE,
[Copy of the Title of the Original Quarto Edition.]
THE
I F E
O F
JOHNSON, LL. D.
comprehending
AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STUDIES
AND NUMEROUS WORKS,
IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER ;
A SERIES OF HIS EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE
AND CONVERSATIONS WITH MANY EMINENT PERSONS ;
and
VARIOUS ORIGINAL PIECES OF HIS COMPOSITION,
NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED :
THE WHOLE EXHIBITING A VIEW OF LITERATURE AND
LITERARY MEN IN GREAT-BRITAIN, FOR NEAR
HALF A CENTURY, DURING WHICH HE
FLOURISHED.
Br JAMES BOSWELL, Es^
Quo jit Ut omnis
Votiva pateat •veluti descripta tabella
Vita senis. Horat.
L
SAMUEL
IN TWO VOLUMES.
LONDON:
printed by henry baldwin,
FOR CHARLES DILLY, IN THE POULTRY.
MDCCXCI.
EDITOR'S PREFACE.
SHORTLY after the death of Johnson—the day after,
according to Dr. Michael Lort in his letter to Bishop
Percy, Nichols' "Illustrations of Literature," vol. vii., p. 467—
there appeared the first of the various Lives of Johnson.
It was entitled : " The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D., with
Occasional Remarks on his Writings, an authentic Copy of his
Will, and Catalogue of his Works and was published in 8vo.,
by Kearsley, It ran through several editions. The author of
this anonymous sketch was William Cooke, afterwards known
by the name of Conversation Cooke, from a poem of his entitled
" Conversation." The author professes to give but a " sketch
warm from the Life but, sketch though it be, it contains
the main facts of Johnson's life, stated with considerable
accuracy and precision. A few even of the original letters,
which we meet with in Boswell's matured " Life," are given in
the course of this narrative.
The animated sketch of Thomas Tyers, appeared in two
consecutive numbers of the " Gentleman's Magazine," the
number for December, 1784, and that for January, 1785. It
is reprinted at full length in the volume " Johnsoniana," p.
171-193. Boswell, though he refused to avail himself to any
great extent of this sketch, admits that it may be regarded
as " an entertaining little collection of fragments " (vol. iii.,
p. 24). Tom Tyers was a favourite ; his vivacity and eccen¬
tricity endeared him to Johnson, and this essay in the
" Gentleman's Magazine" confirms the justice of Boswell's
vi
editor's preface.
remark, that Tyers had lived with Johnson in as easy a
manner as almost any of his very numerous acquaintance.
Within a year after the publication of these mere sketches
by Cooke and Tyers, there appeared, " Memoirs of the Life
and Writings of the late Dr. Samuel Johnson, printed by J.
Walker, 44, Pater-Noster Row, 1785." This also was anony¬
mous, but internal evidence of a very cogent character plainly
points to the Rev. William Shaw as the author of this little
volume of 197 pages i2mo.—which has become exceedingly
rare.
From the notices of Shaw which we find in Boswell, and
especially from the statements of Shaw himself in this little
volume, the chief particulars regarding his relations to John¬
son may be satisfactorily ascertained.
About Christmas of 1774—just, therefore, as the "Journey
to the Western Islands" was about to leave the press—through
the kind offices of their common friend Mr. Elphinston, Shaw
had been introduced to Johnson,1 who eagerly interrogated the
young Highlander "on his knowledge of Erse, and whether
the Poems of Fingal existed in that language." The candour
of Shaw, who confessed his ignorance of their existence, though
he admitted that he had often endeavoured to satisfy himself
on the point, at once recommended him to Johnson's friend¬
ship and sympathy. In a letter to Boswell under date March 14,
1777,2 he says, that "one Shaw, who seems a modest and a
decent man, has written an Erse grammar, which a very
learned Highlander, Mr. Macbean, has, at my request,
examined and approved." The grammar was still in manu¬
script, but its publication had been recommended by formal
proposals, a parcel of which were forwarded to Boswell. The
real author of " the proposals for an Analysis of the Scotch
Celtic Language," Boswell at once discovered, and saw in them
1 Memoirs, &c., p. 148.
2 Vol. ii., p. 375.
editor's preface.
vii
an illumination of the pen of Johnson.1 In due time the little
book was published at London, 1778, as "An Analysis of the
Gaelic Language." Encouraged by the success with which, he
says,2 his labours were received, he conceived the plan of " a
Collection of all the Vocables in the Gaelic Language, that
could be collected from the voice, or old books and MSS."
Johnson entering into his scheme with true interest, encouraged
him to appeal to the Scottish nation to raise a fund for the
undertaking. An attempt was therefore made to enlist the
sympathies and gain the support of the Highland Society;
but the machinations, as our author asserts, of Macpherson,3 who
was aware of Shaw's connection with Johnson, defeated these
efforts. In his vexation and disappointment, he turned to
Johnson for advice; professed to him that he would risk his
little all, three or four hundred pounds, if he could entertain
any hopes of his outlays being ultimately refunded. Courage
and perseverance were inspired into his heart by a speech the
Doctor made to him on this occasion. " Sir, if you give the
world a vocabulary of that language, while the island of Great
Britain stands in the Atlantic Ocean, your name will be men¬
tioned." The youthful enthusiasm of Shaw was rekindled
by the noble words, and setting forth that same spring, he
travelled in the pursuit of his object 3,000 miles, finished
the work at his own expense, and " has not to this day been
paid their subscriptions by his countrymen."4 Thus "A
Gaelic and English Dictionary, containing all the words
in the Scotch and Irish dialects of the Celtic, that could be
collected from the voice, and old books, and MSS.," was
published in London, in 2 vols. 4to., 1780.
In the year after this, he returned to the more distinctively
Ossianic controversy in " An Enquiry into the Authenticity of
the Poems ascribed to Ossian. By W. Shaw, A.M. London,
1 Vol. ii., p. 376. 2 Ibid., p. 152. 3 Memoirs, p. 153.
* Ibid., p. 154. See also Life, vol. iii., p. 349.
viii
editor's preface.
17,81"; and when Mr. John Clark of Edinburgh attacked
hC*for the opinions he had expressed in the above pam¬
phlet, there is no doubt that Johnson contributed largely to
the "Reply to Mr. Clark's Answers," London, 1782. Boswell
in the " Life " 1 selects a few paragraphs from this answer,
which " mark their great author." The controversy continued,
and waxed warmer : Mr. Clark answered (1783) Mr. Shaw's
reply, and a " Rejoinder to an Answer from Mr. Clark on the
subject of Ossian's Poems" was published by Mr. Shaw in
1784.
In answer to an appeal which Shaw addressed2 to Johnson,
" to state the facts at large, which first led you to a discovery
of this monstrous imposition, to rescue your Gallic (sic) coad¬
jutors from the odium incurred by espousing your cause,"
he assures us that had Johnson's health permitted, he in¬
tended " to have published a state of the controversy from the
beginning, to balance the arguments and evidence on both
sides, and to pronounce judgment on the whole." There
seems to be no record of the subsequent history of this able
and vigorous man. From a letter of Johnson to Boswell,3 we
learn that Shaw had sought Johnson's help to obtain for him,
through Lord Eglinton, a chaplaincy in one of the newly-
raised (Highland) Regiments. Of this intervention, if indeed
it were made, nothing further is said. It would appear as if
Johnson induced him "to take orders in the Church of
England," though he lived not to see him provided for.
Upon his going to settle in Kent in 1780 as a curate, John¬
son wrote to Mr. Allen, the vicar of St. Nicholas, Rochester,
in his favour, the following letter:—
" Sir,
" Mr. William Shaw, the gentleman from whom you will
receive this, is a studious and literary man : he is a stranger and will
1 Vol. iii., p. 349-50. 2 Memoirs, p. 159-64.
1 Life, vol. ii., p. 470.
editor's preface.
ix
be glad to be introduced into proper company: and he is my friend,
and any civility you shall show him, will be an obligation on, Sir,
your most obedient servant, (Signed) "Sam. Johnson."
In the preface to his little volume of Memoirs he tells us
that he had been favoured with contributions from Mrs.
Desmoulins, Thomas Davies of Covent Garden, and, above
all, from Mr. Elphinston, who had introduced him to Johnson.
Omitting for the present any allusion to the "Journal of
the Tour to the Hebrides," which Boswell published in
1785, the next book which occupied the attention of the
world was "The Anecdotes of the late Samuel Johnson,
LL.D., during the last twenty years of his life, by Hesther
Lynch Piozzi." From a letter of Walpole's, in Mr. Hayward's
" Life and Writings of Mrs. Piozzi," vol. i., p. 290, we learn
that it came out on the 26th of March, 1786. The sale was
rapid. It is said that when the king sent for a copy of the
" Anecdotes " on the evening of the day of publication, not a
single copy was to be had.1 Though printed in London, the
"Anecdotes" had been written in Italy. It was at Venice that
she learnt by a letter from Cadell, her publisher, that he never
brought out a work the sale of which was so rapid, and that
rapidity of so long continuance.2 With very pardonable exul¬
tation, she says, " I suppose the fifth edition will meet me at
my return." The "Anecdotes " gave great offence to John¬
son's friends, to none more than to Boswell. He who was, on
the whole, singularly kind, genial, and considerate in his
estimate of character, was impelled, reluctantly we believe,
to turn aside and animadvert on her not infrequent inaccura¬
cies, and her somewhat heartless levities, in her delineations of
Johnson's character and habits. Just as we seem to see the
monk whom Sterne sketches at the opening of the " Senti¬
mental Journey" — mild, pale, penetrating — so Boswell's
1 Hayward's Piozzi, vol. i., p. 291.
2 Ibid., p. 291.
X
editor's preface.
equally graphic description of Mrs. Thrale—short, plump,
brisk—prepares us to understand the lady, whose character
seems to have been marred by a flippancy which recurs too
often in her pages. But all this notwithstanding, her active
kindnesses to Johnson, continued for nearly twenty years of
his life, should be remembered to her credit by all who love
and respect Johnson. Her "Anecdotes," with all abatements
made, must ever take high rank among the books which help
us to understand him. Readers will, therefore, find them occu¬
pying the first place in the volume entitled " Johnsoniana."
Dr. Joseph Towers followed (1786) in "An Essay on the
Life, Character, and Writings of Dr. Samuel Johnson." Born
March, 1737, he was the son of a second-hand bookseller in
Southwark.1 His access to books, which he enjoyed from an
early age, seems to have been his chief education. He appears
to have been essentially a self-educated man, and acquired his
very considerable stock of knowledge by diligent study in the
leisure hours after business. He carried on the business of
bookseller for nine years in Fore Street,2 but with no great
success. In 1774 he gave up business, and was ordained a
preacher in the Unitarian body, and became forenoon preacher
at Newington Green, where the celebrated Dr. Price preached
in the afternoon. He stepped forth boldly, but with the
respect which was due to Johnson's reputation, to reply to
Johnson's political pamphlets, in "A Letter to Samuel John¬
son, occasioned by his late political publications." This
letter, together with a paragraph in a letter from Temple to
Boswell, were laid before Johnson by Boswell himself, who
notifies 3 that these two instances of animadversion appeared,
from the effects they had on Johnson, evinced by his silence
and his looks, to impress him much. " I am willing to do
justice," Boswell remarks, "to the merits of Dr. Towers, of
1 Biograph. Diet., vol. xxix. 2 Ubi supra, p. 191.
3 Life, vol. ii., p. 150.
editor's preface.
xi
whom I will say, that though I abhor his whiggish demo-
cratical notions and propensities, I esteem him as an in¬
genious, knowing, and very convivial man." Boswell's testi¬
mony to Towers' social and convivial talents may be more
implicitly received than his testimony to Towers' political
principles. His " Essay on the Life, Character, and Writings
of Dr. Samuel Johnson" will, however, reward study. We
miss, indeed, the charm of original anecdotes and conversa¬
tions. Of these Towers has none, except those which he
had derived from the recently published sources described in ,
the preceding remarks.
Appointed an executor under the will, Sir John Hawkins
now pressed forward to be the biographer of Johnson, and the
editor of the first collected edition of his works. He had been
appointed, not only the executor of his will, but also, as he
tells us in his advertisement to his Life, the "guardian of
his fame and in this capacity of guardian of Johnson's fame,
Sir John at once proceeded to prepare the first formal Life,
and the first collected edition of his works. He could hardly
have completed his arrangements with the trade before some
months of 1785 had elapsed; and in little more, therefore,
than two years, the eleven octavo volumes containing " The
Life and Works " appeared in 1787. The four volumes which
afterwards appeared as supplements to the "Works" show that
not conscientious care, but greedy haste, had been the motive
power, alike of the biographer and the publishers, in the work
which they had produced. The Life, indeed, has its merits.
In spite of the extraneous matter, which belonged as well to
the biography of any of Johnson's contemporaries as to that
of Johnson, there is much in Hawkins's Life which has not
been superseded. His account of the manner in which the
debates in Parliament were drawn up by Guthrie and John¬
son for the " Gentleman's Magazine," still repay reading ; and
the same may be said of the accounts of the Ivy Lane Club
xii
editor's preface.
and its members, and of the more celebrated Turk's Head
Club, Gerard Street, Soho, which became the Club. But it
is singular how few examples are given of the conversa¬
tional power of Johnson; a want which confirms and justi¬
fies Boswell's assertion that he had never seen Hawkins in
Johnson's company, he thinks, but once, and he is sure not
above twice.1 Yet, when he wrote his book, the sayings of
Johnson were in the minds and on the lips of hundreds ; and
his 800 pages proved the best foil that could be imagined to
the biography soon to appear by him whom, with a native
boorishness, he describes as " Mr. James Boswell, a native of
Scotland." 2
Yet that "native of Scotland" had given to the world a
volume of the most singularly interesting and fascinating
character: "The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, with
Samuel Johnson, LL.D.," which at once eclipsed all preceding
sources of information. By no author, before or since, has
Boswell been surpassed in his admirable art of recording
conversation. It is one of extreme difficulty. If any one be
inclined to question this, let him try, when perchance he
meets an eminent man, to record specimens of his conversa¬
tion, and not merely with accuracy, but with something of
the dramatic force and propriety which we invariably find
in Boswell's handiwork. The attempt will convince him of
the delicacy and difficulty of the task, and that Boswell was
a master of the art. The "Journal of the Tour" was
first published in the autumn of 1785, just thirteen years
after the tour itself. During this long period, the manu¬
script of it had lain in his possession. From time to time,
even while they went from place to place, and from island
to island, Johnson had seen and read portions of it as they
were successively written. " He came to my room this
morning, Sept. 19, before breakfast, to read my Journal, which
1 Life, vol. i., p. 2. 2 Life, p. 472.
editor's preface. . xiii
he has done all along. He often before said, ' I take great
delight in reading it.' To-day he said, 'You improve, it
grows better and better.' I observed there was a danger of
my getting a habit of writing in a slovenly manner. ' Sir,'
said he, 'it is not written in a slovenly manner. It might
be printed, were the subject fit for printing.'" The manu¬
script of the " Tour" was occasionally lent. Thus it was
lent to Mrs. Thrale. " I am glad," wrote Johnson to that
lady, "you read Boswell's Journal: you are now sufficiently
informed of the whole transaction, and need not regret that
you did not make the tour to the Hebrides." 1 We know that
Malone, and we infer that Reynolds had this privilege.
The success of the " Journal of the Tour" was immediate.
Three large editions of it were printed and sold in less than a
year, in spite of the malignity and vulgarity with which it
was assailed by such satirists as Peter Pindar, and a crowd of
nameless scoffers. But Boswell was not to be put down. No
man knew better than he what he had intended, and what he
had done. It is a ridiculous conception that he was unconscious
of his purpose, and that a work such as his arose under his
hands like an unhealthy growth on a man's body. In the
advertisement prefixed to the third edition, he shows that he
is proudly conscious of the work he had already achieved,
even in the "Journal of the Tour." " I will venture to predict,
that this specimen of the colloquial talents and extempora¬
neous effusions of my fellow traveller will become still more
valuable, when, by the lapse of time, he shall have become an
antient: when all those who can now bear testimony to the
transcendent powers of his mind shall have passed away ; and
no other memorial of this great and good man shall remain,
but the following Journal and his own admirable works .....
which will be read and admired as long as the English lan¬
guage shall be spoken or understood." This, be it remarked,
1 Letters to and from Dr. Samuel Johnson, vol. i., p. 284.
xiv . EDITOR'S PREFACE.
is not the language of unconsciousness, of a man who suc¬
ceeded because he was a fool, and not in virtue of admirable
literary abilities, exercised for a great and good end.
But the greater work, which had occupied his heart and soul
and mind for many a long year, was being actively prepared.
On the fly-sheet of the third edition of the "Journal of the
Tour" which was the last he edited, there was an announce¬
ment full of enduring interest to all lovers of good books.
" Preparing for the Press, in one volume, quarto. The Life of
Samuel Johnson, LL.D., by James Boswell, Esq." In one
quarto volume Boswell had hoped and intended to comprise
the work, for which he had been collecting materials " for more
than twenty years, during which he was honoured with the
intimate friendship of Dr. Johnson, to whose memory he is
ambitious to erect a literary monument, worthy of so great an
author and so excellent a man." We rejoice to think that
one quarto did not suffice ; two quartos were needed to em¬
body the result of his long labour of love—quartos which con¬
tained matter which have delighted and instructed and
cheered the English-speaking race for nearly a century ; and
which we believe are destined to live for centuries of time yet
to come. To the "Life," published by Dilly in 1791, a dedi¬
cation was, with great propriety, prefixed to Sir Joshua Rey¬
nolds, a dedication which shows the fond affection he had for
his unfailing friend the President of the Royal Academy, and
betrays, though in a very dignified fashion, the wounded
feelings of a man who had been misunderstood and misinter¬
preted in the almost unbounded openness of his communica¬
tions in "The Journal of the Tour to the Hebrides."
It is almost needless to note what everyone is familiar
with : the book was successful; it was eagerly read by all
classes from the very first, and it became and remains a
favourite book of the English nation. Boswell taught the
world what a true biography of a great man should be.
editor's preface.
XV
Macaulay was right when he said : " Boswell is the first of
biographers. 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." Yet this language, strong as it is,
exaggerated as many have thought it, is not more pronounced
and emphatic than the words used by Boswell in the introduc¬
tion to the " Life " :—" I will venture to say that he will be
seen in this work more completely than any man who has ever
yet lived." There is a noble and just self-confidence in these
words. The task of correcting, amending, and adding to his
darling work seems to have been the occupation of the re¬
maining years of his life. In 1793 he printed the second
edition, in three volumes, octavo; and before it was issued
from the press he prefixed to the first volume of that edi¬
tion additions recollected and received after it was printed.
While superintending the third edition as it passed through
the press Boswell was seized with his fatal illness, which
carried him off prematurely at his house in Great Poland
Street, in the fifty-fifth year of his age, on the 19th of May,
179S- The greater part, however, if not the whole, of the
text of this edition had been revised by Boswell. Malone
now appears as editor. He signed the advertisement of
this edition, in which also appeared some of the handi¬
work of James, Boswell's second son. The fourth, the
fifth, and the sixth editions were published respectively in
1804, 1807, and 1811, all under the editorship of Malone. The
sixth was the last which had the benefit of his care and
supervision. He died, May 25, 1812, in the seventy-first
year of his age. Of the seventh and eighth editions I
know nothing, having never even seen them. I appre¬
hend they were mere reprints of Malone's last edition. The
ninth edition was Alexander Chalmers', published in 1822,
"by the trade;" but though it bears on the title-page "the
ninth edition, revised and augmented," I confess that I have
xvi
editor's preface.
discovered no traces of special revision, and little, indeed, that
could claim to be regarded as original augmentations. The
tenth edition, edited by F. P. Walesby, of Wadham College,
was published at Oxford, in four volumes, octavo, 1826;
the handsomest edition, as far as paper and type were con¬
cerned, which had yet appeared, and superior in the quality
of editing to Mr. Alexander Chalmers'. And, lastly, there
appeared, in 1831, the celebrated edition of the Right Honour¬
able John Wilson Croker, in five handsomely printed volumes
(Murray, 1831).
Mr. Croker had many of the qualities which fitted him to
excel as the editor of such an edition of Boswell's " Life " as
the lapse of time demanded. His social position, which
brought him into connection with the most celebrated of the
survivors of the Johnsonian circle, was no mean advantage.
He had distinguished literary abilities ; he brought to his
labours a diligence that never tired ; his spirit of inquiry
rivalled that of even Boswell himself. He had a love of
literary gossip, of the smaller aspects of literary history, which
many would have regarded as one of the endowments which
fitted him for his work, but which, I venture to think, proved
a snare and bane to him. But, notwithstanding these advan¬
tages, the edition disappointed the expectations which had
been raised, and to this hour irritates lovers of sound lite¬
rature by serious faults, which are but too patent. No one,
indeed, need now castigate the mosaic formed of the various
works of Boswell, of Piozzi, of Hawkins, of Tyers, of Mur¬
phy, of Nichols, of Cumberland, of the two Wartons, of
Strahan, on which Macaulay and Carlyle vented their just
sarcasm and ridicule: for this unique patchwork was mainly,
if not entirely, effaced in subsequent editions. Mr. Croker con¬
demned his own work by expunging it; and a reference to it
can only be justified on the ground of noticing a singular fact
in literary history.
editor's preface.
xvii
But if the mosaic we speak of were broken up, and its
pieces restored to the several bodies from which, for a time at
least, they had so violently been severed, one huge block was
Y left in the middle of the book—an act for which Mr. Croker
claims our praise and respect. "The most important addi¬
tion," says Mr. Croker in his Preface, "which I have made
is one that needs no apology—the incorporation with the
' Life' of the whole of the 'Tour to the Hebrides,'—which," he
adds further, "no doubt, if Boswell could have legally done so,
he would have himself incorporated in the ■ Life.'" What
legal impediments there were in the way of this purpose, we
profess not to understand. The law of copyright has not been
a constant quantity ; it has been altered again and again, nor
is it regarded by many as in a satisfactory condition at this
date. But we are at a loss to conceive how the publication of
the " Tour " together with the " Life " could have been barred
by any state, or at any period, of the law of copyright. The
author published the " Life " with Charles Dilly; he published
the "Tour" with Charles Dilly ; each edition of both books
issued from the same publisher, who was, moreover, an
intimate friend of Boswell's. There was no impediment,
therefore, we apprehend, which author and publisher, acting
in harmony, could not easily have overcome ; in fact, there
was no impediment on the ground of law. There was, how¬
ever, a grand impediment on the ground of taste ; and the last
thing we can conceive Boswell doing would be his cramming
a volume of 443 pages into the place where he mentions the
beginning of the " Tour," and records its end. We entirely
agree with Mr. Croker when he expresses his wonder that,
" any edition of the ' Life of Johnson ' should have been pub¬
lished without the addition of this the most original, curious,
and amusing part of the whole biography." But this indis¬
pensable addition to the " Life " might have been made by
printing the " Tour " together with the " Life," which is done
b
xviii
editor's preface.
in this edition, without the monstrous violation of taste of
foisting this entire book into the text, between the dates of
the beginning and end of the " Tour."
But another serious liberty with the text of Boswell's books
has been taken in Mr. Croker's editions. In all but the
first, the text, both of the " Life" and the "Tour," has been
broken up into chapters. In the last edition, 1847, the
" Life " and the incorporated " Tour" are divided into eighty-
two chapters. But Boswell and Malone have nothing of this
division; and I hold it to be contrary to the professed plan
of Boswell himself, who traces Johnson's life in the form of
annals in the chronological series of his life. Divisions
into books and chapters, if they have any meaning, are, as it
were, articulations in the organic whole of a literary com¬
position ; and this special form cannot be super-induced
merely externally. Hence in this edition this division into
chapters has been removed, and the form of the book pre¬
served, with annals of Johnson's life as the framework for his
thoughts, his labours, and his conversations. Any convenience
that there was in the division into chapters will be found, I
hope, in the analytical table of contents prefixed to each
volume. Thus no violation, at least to Boswell's text, is com¬
mitted ; while, as I trust, the convenience of the reader will be
yet further promoted.
It was said of Warburton by Johnson, " that he has a rage
for saying something, when there's nothing to be said." We
never read this without thinking of Mr. Croker. His notes
are excessive in number, without being conspicuous for their
utility; and as a short clear note, when it is indispensable, is
a comfort and satisfaction to the reader, so annotation which
is quite dispensable, overloads the page and distracts, not
rewards, the reader's attention. Many, therefore, of Mr.
Croker's notes have been removed, but not, I believe, a single
note that was needed to elucidate the text, and which in
any respect fulfilled this purpose.
editor's preface.
xix
And, above all, I have removed those notes in which Mr.
Croker seems to have considered it his duty to act as censor
on Boswell,—nay, sometimes on Johnson himself. The duty of
an editor and the duty of a critic differ. It is permitted, nay
expected, that a critic should analyze the work of his author,
approve or censure it, as he deems right. But the business of
an editor is, I apprehend, more limited. His duty is to sub¬
ordinate himself to his author, and admit that only which
elucidates his author's meaning. But, above all, it cannot be
the duty of an editor to insult the writer whose book he edits.
I confess that those notes of Mr. Croker which most offend are
those in which, not seldom, he delights—let me be allowed to
use a familiar colloquialism—to snub " Mr. Boswell."
With regard to the new notes in this edition, they will not,
I trust, be regarded as excessive in number or dogmatic in
expression. The appendices to the different volumes mainly
consist of discussions, too long for foot-notes, treating of
various matters which have arisen in the literature of Bos-
well's " Life of Johnson."
One word more. It has been my great object in this edition
to do justice to Boswell and his great works, the " Tour " and
the " Life." I have given what I desired to give, a pure text of
both—presenting them as Boswell wrote and as he left them ;
while the editorial notes are signed by the different authors,
those of Boswell are left without signature to indicate that
they are constituent parts of the original works. Whatever
may be thought of my work in reference to the various
commentators and editors, I claim to have been loyal to
Boswell.
It remains that I should thank those persons who have
kindly and courteously aided me in my labours. The Earl of
Lindsay and Balcarres promptly and generously acceded to
my request to place the original Round Robin in the hands
of my publishers for reproduction by the photographic art; a
contribution to this edition which will be generally acceptable.
XX
editor's preface.
To Mr. Henry Reeve I am under great obligations. I en¬
joyed the great pleasure of inspecting and consulting the
Records of The Club in his own library, which afforded me
the opportunity of confirming and elucidating several passages
in Boswell's text. I also owe to Mr. Reeve a suggestion
which many, I feel sure, will rejoice that I followed. By his
advice the " Diary of Dr. Thomas Campbell"—a few passages
of no importance whatever being omitted—has been repro¬
duced in the volume of " Johnsoniana." This diary is perhaps
the most curious addition made to Johnsonian literature since
the publication of Mrs. Piozzi's " Anecdotes."
Of the numerous friends who have so readily communicated
information to me, let me name, especially, my kinsman, Dr.
Cotterill, the Bishop of Edinburgh; Mr. H. G. Reid of Her
Majesty's Stationery Office ; Mr. R. F. Sketchley of the South
Kensington Museum, who, as Curator of the Forster Library,
has been of signal service to me, always rendered with the
utmost readiness and intelligence; Colonel F. R. C. Grant,
who lent me the manuscript catalogue of his unique collection
of the literature of the age of Johnson; the Rev. John G.
Lonsdale, Canon of Lichfield Cathedral, for his courteous
answers to my inquiries regarding Johnson's life in connection
with the Cathedral; Mr. Charles Simpson, Town Clerk of the
city of Lichfield, a gentleman who knew those who had seen
and spoken with Johnson, and from whom I learnt the tradi¬
tions concerning him which still linger there; Mr. J. T. Clark,
the Keeper of the Books of the Advocates, for his learned com¬
munications to me regarding the books printed and published
in Scotland before the Union, and other points of literary
history; Mr. David Douglas, for his curious information re¬
garding Hume and Boswell's house in James' Court ; Mr.
J. W. M. Gibbs, for his intelligent and persistent researches in
the British Museum on many matters connected with John¬
sonian literature; the Rev. Canon Jelf of Rochester, and his
editor's preface.
xxi
brother, Mr. Arthur Jelf, for the information I obtained from
them in regard to Archdeacon Cambridge's portrait of John¬
son ; Mr. J. T. Gilbert for his assistance in the O'Connor
question; Messrs. Christie, Manson, and Wood, for their prompt
and obliging information regarding the portraits of Johnson ;
my neighbour and friend the Rev. J. R. Pilling, Rector of
Wells, for many ingenious verifications out of the stores of his
capacious and accurate memory. It would not be less than
great ingratitude, if I omitted to thank Mr. Alfred Smith,
Assistant in the University Library, Cambridge, for his untir¬
ing, most obliging attention to the many demands I have
made, for several years, on his time and patience.
Alexander Napier.
Holkham Vicarage,
Nov. 16, 1883.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
VOL. I.
page
Dedication to Sir Joshua Reynolds xxxi
Mr. Bos-well's advertisements to the first and second
editions xxxiv
Mr. Malone's advertisements xxxix
Preface to Mr. Croker's edition xlii
The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D.
Introductory remarks, on the arduous character of the
author's undertaking, and the plan and method of
his design 1-8
18 Sept. Birth of Johnson ........ 9
1709. His mother's family—the Fords 9-10
His father, Michael Johnson, described .... 10
Michael Johnson's occupation . . . . . .11
Romantic incident in the youth of Michael Johnson . 12
His mother described 12-13
Traditional story of Johnson's infancy . . . 13-14
Early instance of his power of memory .... 14
Story of his early precocity refuted . . . . 15
Johnson afflicted with scrofula. 16
Taken to London to be touched by Queen Anne . . 17
First taught to read by Dame Oliver . . . .18
Learns Latin with Mr. Hawkins 18
Placed under Dr. Hunter, Master of Lichfield Grammar
School 18
Admitted his obligations to Hunter. . . .19
Hector's recollections of his early days ■ . . . 20-21
Johnson did not enter into boyish sports. . . .21
His love of romances noted by Dr. Percy ... 22
1724. Sent to Stourbridge School 22
^Et. 15- Remains there rather more than a year .... 22
Specimens of his poetical genius at Stourbridge . 24-30
Leaves Stourbridge and returns home .... 30
Character of his two years' sojourn at home . . 30-32
XXIV TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
1728. Enters a Commoner of Pembroke College, Oxford . . 32
AEt. 19. Anecdotes of his life there 33
Translates Pope's Messiah into Latin verse, Christmas,
1728 34
Prostrated by an attack of hypochondria during the
Christmas vacation of 1729 ..... 35
His exertions to overcome it 36
Boswell's reflections on this malady ; . . 36-38
Johnson's religious history at this early period . 39-41
His erratic course of reading at Oxford . . . 41-42
Loved and caressed at college 43-44
Recommends Taylor to enter at Christ Church in pre¬
ference to Pembroke.....;. 45
Disdains the eleemosynary pair of shoes .... 46
1731. Compelled to leave College in the autumn of 1731,
ALt. 22. returns to his native city in poverty . . . -47
Kindly received by the best families in Lichfield . . 48
Especially at Mrs. Walmsley's ^ 49
His politeness commemorated ; 49-50
1732. Becomes usher at Market Bosworth . . . .51
JEt. 23.
Accepts Hector's invitation to reside with him at Bir¬
mingham . i . 52
1735. Translates Father Lobo's Voyage to Abyssinia, his first
JEt. 26. prose work. ....... 53-55
Returns to Lichfield 56
Proposes to translate Politian's poems . . 56
Letter from Johnson to Cave, editor of Gentleman's
Magazine 57
Verses to a Lady, on receiving from her a sprig of
myrtle 59
His friendship with Mr. Hector 60
Makes the acquaintance of Mrs. Porter . . . .61
I735. Johnson's marriage, and account of Mrs. Johnson . 62-63
JEt. 26. Opens a private academy at Edial 64
His scheme for the classes of a grammar school . 66-67
Garrick, his pupil 64-68
Letter from Mr. Walmsley recommending Johnson to
Mr. Colson's notice 69
1737. Comes up to London 70
^£t. 28. His Ofella in the art of living in London . . . .71
Narrow circumstances 70-72
His friendship with Hon. Henry Hervey . . 72-73
Letter to Mr. Cave proposing to translate Le Courayer's
edition of Hist. Council of Trent .... 74
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
XXV
PAGE
Original sketch of his tragedy, Irene . . . 75-77
Irene offered to manager of Drury Lane, and refused . 78
Commencement of his connection with the Gentleman's
Magazine . . . . . . . . 78 et seq.
Ode, ad Urbanum 80
Revises the Debates for Gentleman's Magazine . 81-82
1738. Publishes London, a Poem 83-97
ALt. 29. Letters to Cave about this Poem and others . . 86-87
Sells London to Dodsley for ioj 89
Pope's enquiries after the unknown author of London 92-93
And recommendation of him to Earl Gower ... 96
Earl Gower's effort to obtain for Johnson a degree from
Dublin 97
Marmor Norfolciense . 106
Pope's note to Mr. Richardson about Johnson . . 107
Johnson's convulsive infirmities 108
His beautiful Epitaph on a musician . . . . 111
Writes the Parliamentary debates which he had for two
years revised for Gentleman's Magazine . . .112
Employed by Osborne the bookseller . . . . 115
Ode to Friendship 119
1744. Writes the Life of Savage 122-134
JEt. 35. Anecdote of Johnson's triumph over Garrick on a ques¬
tion of emphasis .127
Boswell's account of Savage 127-134
Johnson proposes a new edition of Shakespeare . .134
But finds the ground already occupied . . . . 135
Contributes prose and poetry to the Gentleman's Maga¬
zine 13S-138
1747. Publishes his Plan for the DICTIONARY . . . .139
JEt. 38. Booksellers concerned and price stipulated . . . 140
The Plan addressed to Lord Chesterfield . . . 140
Assistants employed for the mechanical parts . . . 144
The Club in Ivy Lane 146
The Vanity of Huma7i Wishes published . . . 149-150
Garrick brings out Irene at Drury Lane . . . .150
111 success of that tragedy 152-153
The Rambler commenced 154-155
Specimens of notes for Rambler .... 158-160
Elphinstone's Edinburgh edition of Rambler . . 163-164
Remarks on Johnson's style 170-176
Mr. Courtney's character of Johnson . . . 174-175
Comus performed for the benefit of Milton's grand¬
daughter 179
Johnson writes the Preface to Lauder's Essay on Milton 180-183
XXvi TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
His kindness to Mrs. Williams .... 183-184
1752. Death of Mrs. Johnson 185
-^Et. 43. Johnson's sufferings 186-190
Epitaph on Mrs. Johnson's tombstone .... 190
Johnson's friends at this time 192-196
His friendship for Mr. Robert Levett . . . .192
Bennett Langton, Esq., and Mr. Topham Beauclerk i95_I99
Johnson takes part in the Adventurer . . . 199-204
Lord Chesterfield's conduct to Johnson .... 207
Johnson's famous letter to Lord Chesterfield . . . 210
His clever description of Lord Chesterfield . . .214
Goes to Oxford to consult the libraries . . . .216
Receives the degree of M.A. from Oxford by diploma 226-227
1755. The Dictionary published 236
^Et. 46. Some of his definitions excused 239
Garrick's Epigram on the Dictionary . . . 243-244
Honours at home and abroad on account of the Dictionary 242
He contributes to the Universal Visitor .... 247
And the Literary Magazine 248
His defence of Tea 252
He pleads the cause of Admiral Byng .... 253
His review of Soame Jenyns' Origin of Evil . . 254-255
Proposes a new edition of Shakespeare .... 258
Dr. Burney's description of a visit to Johnson . . .265
Johnson commences the Idler 266
The death of his mother ....... 274
1759. Writes Rasselas to defray the expense of her funeral . 277
yEt. 50. Francis Barber and Smollett's letter in his behalf . . 285
Friendship with Mr. Murphy commenced by a curious
incident 290
Letters from Johnson to Baretti at Milan. . . 295-311
Johnson accompanies Sir Joshua Reynolds on a visit to
Devonshire 308
Boswell's first visit to London 314
His anxiety to obtain an introduction to Johnson . 314-319
Thomas Sheridan and his difference with Johnson . 314-318
1763. BoswelVs introduction to Johnson . . . . .319
JEt. 54. The meeting in Davies' shop 320
Boswell's first call on Johnson 323
An evening at the Mitre Tavern 328
Boswell opens his mind to Johnson 330
Johnson's kindness and advice 335*336
Oliver Goldsmith 336-341
Johnson sells the Vicar of Wakefield for Goldsmith 339-340
Boswell's supper party at the Mitre. .... 347
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
xxvii
PAGE
Johnson's affectation of Jacobitism ..... 352
Recommends Boswell to keep a journal . . . -355
Johnson's library described 357
The first idea of the Tour to the Hebrides . . . 368
Johnson and Boswell "take a sculler" to Greenwich . 375
Returning in the evening 37 8
Boswell sets out on his travels, Johnson accompanying
him to Harwich 381
Johnson's first letter to Boswell at Utrecht . . . 387
Johnson pays a visit to the Langton family in Lincoln¬
shire 39°
1764. The Club founded 391
yEt. 55. The original members 391
Subsequent members 392
Johnson's tenderness of conscience 395
Attack of hypochondria 395
His strange habits 396-397
Johnson's visit to Cambridge 399
Made a Doctor of Laws by Trinity College, Dublin . 400
1765. Becomes acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale . . 403
.'Et. 56. Who are described 406-407
Johnson's letter to Boswell at Paris 412
Boswell's return to London 413
Johnson encourages Boswell to publish an account of
Corsica 417
Letters to Bennett Langton 421-426
Letter to Boswell 426-427
Letter from Boswell to Johnson .... 428-430
Johnson's ill-health 430
He stays three months with the Thrales .... 430
Letters to Mr. William Drummond.... 433-437
1767. Conversation with His Majesty at Buckingham House 440-445
/Et. 58. Johnson's visit of three months to Lichfield . . . 448
Affecting farewell to Catherine Chambers . . . 448
Johnson's melancholy state of mind 450
Boswell publishes his Corsica 451
Johnson renews his promise of going to Scotland . -455
But is much prejudiced against that country . . . 457
Praises Baretti and his book 460
Gives Boswell permission to publish his letters after his
death .......... 462
Sends his servant, Francis Barber, to school . . . 463
The supper party at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand 464
Goldsmith's fine saying—that Johnson " had nothing of
the bear but his skin " 468
xxviii
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
Johnson's letter to Boswell giving his opinion of the
Corsica 471
Johnson's love of London 474
Boswell's introduction to the Thrales .... 476
Johnson's conversation with General Paoli . . . 478
Boswell entertains Johnson and a distinguished company
at dinner . . . . . . . . 480
Goldsmith's bloom-coloured coat 481
Johnson a witness at Baretti's trial . . . . . 491
Mrs. Williams' tea parties 492
Johnson's displeasure with Boswell and forgiveness of 501-502
1770. Publishes The False Alarm ...... 504
ALt. 61. Total cessation of correspondence between Johnson and
Boswell in 1770. ....... 508
Collectanea by Dr. Maxwell of Falkland. . . 509-523
Johnson writes another political pamphlet . . . 524
Mr. Strahan endeavours to get Johnson into the House
of Commons 526-528
Burke's opinion of what Johnson's power would have
been as a speaker 528
Johnson's state of body and mind in 1771 . . . 532
APPENDIX.
Annals, or An Account of the Life of Dr. Samuel John¬
son from his birth to his eleventh year, written by
himself 537
Various letters from Johnson to different persons . ' . 546
Johnson's residence at Oxford (note by Editor) . . 569
Johnson's Parliamentary Debates (note by Editor). . 572
The Club (note by Editor) 577
Letter from Johnson to Mr. Barnard . . . -578
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS
IN VOLUME I.
Dr. Samuel Johnson, from the painting by Sir J. Reynolds
in the National Gallery
. Frontispiece
Market Place, Lichfield
Title
Michael Johnson .....
to face page 10
Grammar School, Lichfield .
„ ,, 18
Pembroke College, Oxford
>> it 42
Edial Hall, near Lichfield .
)} }) 64
Autograph of Gilbert Walmesley .
5j }J 7°
St. John's Gate
» „ 78
Autograph of Dr. Johnson
,, ,, 100
Autograph of Edward Cave .
,, „ 112
Autograph of Richard Savage
,, „ 122
Tunbridge Wells in 1748
)) 5) i46
Residence of Dr. F. Wise, near Oxford
„ „ 2l8
Autograph of Francis Wise .
,, ,, 220
Kettel Hall, Oxford ....
M » 234
Residence of Thomas Davies .
5) >> 32o
DEDICATION.
TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
MY dear Sir,—Every liberal motive that can actuate an
author in the dedication of his labours 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 literature, 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 hospitality 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 com¬
pany has been universally courted, I am justified in availing myself of
the usual privilege of a dedication, when I mention that there has
been a long and uninterrupted friendship between us.
If gratitude should be acknowledged for favours 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
xxxii
DEDICATION.
the number of valuable acquaintances to whom you have introduced
me,—for the nodes coenceque Deum, 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 suc¬
cess, the Life of Dr. Johnson is, with the greatest propriety, dedi¬
cated 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 pecu¬
liarities 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 perse¬
vere 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 display the wonderful
fertility and readiness of Johnson's wit, freely showed to the world
its dexterity, even when I was myself 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 tenour 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 quar¬
ters, not penetrating enough into Johnson's character, so as to under¬
stand his mode of treating his friends, have arraigned my judgment,
instead of seeing that I was sensible of all that they could observe.
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 play¬
ful and frolicksome 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
DEDICATION.
xxxiii
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 some¬
times be disappointed of its gratifications. I am, my dear Sir, your
much obliged friend and faithful humble servant,
James Boswell.
London, 20th April, 1791.
MR. BOSWELL'S ADVERTISEMENTS.
TO THE FIRST EDITION.
I AT last deliver to the world a work which I have long promised,
and of which, I am afraid, too high expectations have been
raised. The delay of its publication must be imputed, in a consider¬
able degree, to the extraordinary zeal which has been shown by dis¬
tinguished persons in all quarters to supply me with additional infor¬
mation concerning its illustrious subject; resembling in this the
grateful tribes of ancient nations, of which every individual was eager
to throw a stone upon the grave of a departed hero, and thus to share
in the pious office of erecting an honourable monument to his
memory.
The labour and anxious attention with which I have collected and
arranged the materials of which these volumes are composed, will
hardly be conceived by those who read them with careless facility.
The stretch of mind and prompt assiduity by which so many conver¬
sations were preserved, I myself, at some distance of time, contem¬
plate with wonder; and I must be allowed to suggest, that the nature
of the work, in other respects, as it consists of innumerable detached
particulars, all which, even the most minute, I have spared no pains
to ascertain with a scrupulous authenticity, has occasioned a degree of
trouble far beyond that of any other species of composition. Were
I to detail the books which I have consulted, and the inquiries which
I have found it necessary to make by various channels, I should pro¬
bably be thought ridiculously ostentatious. Let me only observe, as
a specimen of my trouble, that I have sometimes been obliged to run
half over London, in order to fix a date correctly : which, when I had
accomplished, I well knew would obtain me no praise, though a
failure would have been to my discredit. And after all, perhaps,
hard as it may be, I shall not be surprised if omissions or mistakes be
MR. BOSWELL'S ADVERTISEMENTS. XXXV
pointed out with invidious severity. I have also been extremely-
careful as to the exactness of my quotations; holding that there is a
respect due to the public, which should oblige every author to attend
to this, and never to presume to introduce them with, " I think I
have read," or " If I remember right/' when the originals may be
examined.
I beg leave to express my warmest thanks to those who have been
pleased to favour me with communications and advice in the conduct
of my work. But I cannot sufficiently acknowledge my obligations to
my friend Mr. Malone, who was so good as to allow me to read to
him almost the whole of my manuscript, and made such remarks as
were greatly for the advantage of the work; though it is but fair to
him to mention, that upon many occasions I differed from him, and
followed my own judgment. I regret exceedingly that I was deprived
of the benefit of his revision, when not more than one half of the book
had passed through the press; but after having completed his very
laborious and admirable edition of Shakspeare, for which he gene¬
rously would accept of no other reward but that fame which he
has so deservedly obtained, he fulfilled his promise of a long-wished-
for visit to his relations in Ireland; from whence his safe return
finibus Atticis is desired by his friends here, with all the classical
ardour of Sic te Diva potens Cypri; for there is no man in whom
more elegant and worthy qualities are united; and whose society,
therefore, is more valued by those who know him.
It is painful to me to think, that while I was carrying on this
work, several of those to whom it would have been most interesting
have died. Such melancholy disappointments we know to be inci¬
dent to humanity; but we do not feel them the less. Let me par¬
ticularly lament the Reverend Thomas Warton and the Reverend Dr.
Adams. Mr. Warton, amidst his variety of genius and learning, was
an excellent biographer. His contributions to my collection are
highly estimable; and as he had a true relish of my "Tour to the
Hebrides," I trust I should now have been gratified with a larger share
of his kind approbation. Dr. Adams, eminent as the head of a college,
as a writer, and as a most amiable man, had known Johnson from his
early years, and was his friend through life. What reason I had to
hope for the countenance of that venerable gentleman to this work will
appear from what he wrote to me upon a former occasion from Oxford,
November 17, 1785 :—" Dear Sir, I hazard this letter, not knowing
xxxvi mr. boswell's advertisements.
where it will find you, to thank you for your very agreeable 'Tour,'
which I found here on my return from the country, and in which you
have depicted our friend so perfectly to my fancy, in every attitude,
every scene and situation, that I have thought myself in the company
and of the party almost throughout. It has given very general
satisfaction : and those who have found most fault with a passage
here and there, have agreed that they could not help going through,
and being entertained with the whole. I wish, indeed, some few
gross expressions had been softened, and a few of our hero's foibles
had been a little more shaded ; but it" is useful to see the weaknesses
incident to great minds; and you have given us Dr. Johnson's
authority that in history all ought to be told."
Such a sanction to my faculty of giving a just representation of Dr.
Johnson I could not conceal. Nor will I suppress my satisfaction in
the consciousness, that by recording so considerable a portion of the
wisdom and wit of " the brightest ornament of the eighteenth cen¬
tury," 1 I have largely provided for the instruction and entertainment
of mankind.
J. Boswell.
London, 20th April, 1791.
TO THE SECOND EDITION.
That I was anxious for the success of a work which had employed
much of my time and labour, I do not wish to conceal; but whatever
doubts I at any time entertained, have been entirely removed by the
very favourable reception with which it has been honoured. That
reception has excited my best exertions to render my book more
perfect; and in this endeavour I have had the assistance not only of
some of my particular friends, but of many other learned and in¬
genious men, by which I have been enabled to rectify some mistakes,
and to enrich the work with many valuable additions. These I have
ordered to be printed separately in quarto, for the accommodation of
the purchasers of the first edition. May I be permitted to say that
the typography of both editions does honour to the press of Mr.
Henry Baldwin, now Master of the Worshipful Company of Stationers,
whom I have long known as a worthy man and an obliging friend.
1 See Mr. Malone's Preface to his edition of Shakspeare.
mr, boswell's advertisements. xxxvii
In the strangely mixed scenes of human existence, our feelings are
often at once pleasing and painful. Of this truth, the progress of the
present work furnishes a striking instance. It was highly gratifying
to me that my friend, Sir Joshua Reynolds, to whom it is inscribed,
lived to peruse it, and to give the strongest testimony to its fidelity;
but before a second edition, which he contributed to improve, could
be finished, the world has been deprived of that most valuable man;
a loss of which the regret will be deep, and lasting, and extensive,
proportionate to the felicity which he diffused through a wide circle
of admirers and friends.
In reflecting that the illustrious subject of this work, by being
more extensively and intimately known, however elevated before,
has risen in the veneration and love of mankind, I feel a satisfaction
beyond what fame can afford. We cannot, indeed, too much or too
often admire his wonderful powers of mind, when we consider that
the principal store of wit and wisdom which this work contains was
not a particular selection from his general conversation, but was
merely his occasional talk at such times as I had the good fortune to
be in his company; and, without doubt, if his discourse at other
periods had been collected with the same attention, the whole tenour
of what he uttered would have been found equally excellent.
His strong, clear, and animated enforcement of religion, morality,
loyalty, and subordination, while it delights and improves the wise
and the good, will, I trust, prove an effectual antidote to that
detestable sophistry which has been lately imported from France,
under the false name of philosophy, and with a malignant industry
has been employed against the peace, good order, and happiness of
society, in our free and prosperous country: but, thanks be to God,
without producing the pernicious effects which were hoped for by its
propagators.
It seems to me, in my moments of self-complacency, that this
extensive biographical work, however inferior in its nature, may in
one respect be assimilated to the " Odyssey." Amidst a thousand
entertaining and instructive episodes, the hero is never long out of
sight; for they are all in some degree connected with him; and he,
in the whole course of the history, is exhibited by the author for the
best advantage of his readers :—
— Quid virtus et quid sapientia possit,
Utile proposuit nobis exemplar Ulyssen.
xxxviii MR. BOSWELL'S ADVERTISEMENTS.
Should there be any cold-blooded and morose mortals who really
dislike this book, I will give them a story to apply. When the great
Duke of Marlborough, accompanied by Lord Cadogan, was one day
reconnoitring the army in Flanders, a heavy rain came on, and they
both called for their cloaks. Lord Cadogan's servant, a good-
humoured alert lad, brought his lordship's in a minute. The duke's
servant, a lazy sulky dog, was so sluggish, that his grace, being wet to
the skin, reproved him, and had for answer, with a grunt, " I came as
fast as I could; " upon which the duke calmly said, " Cadogan, I
would not for a thousand pounds have that fellow's temper."
There are some men, I believe, who have, or think they have, a
very small share of vanity. Such may speak of their literary fame in
a decorous style of diffidence. But I confess, that I am so formed
by nature and by habit, that to restrain the effusion of delight, on
having obtained such fame, to me would be truly painful. Why then
should I suppress it ? Why " out of the abundance of the heart"
should I not speak ? Let me then mention with a warm, but no in¬
solent exultation, that I have been regaled with spontaneous praise of
my work by many and various persons, eminent for their rank, learn¬
ing, talents, and accomplishments; much of which praise I have
under their hands to be reposited in my archives at Auchinleck.. An
honourable and reverend friend speaking of the favourable reception
of my volumes, even in the circles of fashion and elegance, said to
me, "You have made them all talk Johnson." Yes, I may add, I
have Johnsonized the land; and I trust they will not only talk but
think Johnson.
To enumerate those to whom I have been thus indebted would be
tediously ostentatious. I cannot however but name one, whose
praise is truly valuable, not only on account of his knowledge and
abilities, but on account of the magnificent, yet dangerous embassy,
in which he is now employed, which makes every thing that relates
to him peculiarly interesting. Lord Macartney favoured me with his
own copy of my book, with a number of notes, of which I have
availed myself. On the first leaf I found, in his lordship's hand¬
writing, an inscription of such high commendation, that even I, vain
as I am, cannot prevail on myself to publish it.
J. Boswell,
i st July, 1793.
MR. MALONE'S ADVERTISEMENTS.
TO THE THIRD EDITION.
SEVERAL valuable letters, and other curious matter, having
been communicated to the author too late to be arranged in
that chronological order, which he had endeavoured uniformly to
observe in his work, he was obliged to introduce them in his second
edition, by way of Addenda, as commodiously as he could. In the
present edition they have been distributed in their proper places. In
revising his volumes for a new edition, he had pointed out where
some of these materials should be inserted; but unfortunately, in the
midst of his labours, he was seized with a fever, of which, to the great
regret of all his friends, he died on the 19th of May, 1795. All the
notes that he had written in the margin of the copy, which he had in
part revised, are here faithfully preserved; and a few new notes have
been added, principally by some of those friends to whom the author,
in the former editions, acknowledged his obligations. Those sub¬
scribed with the letter B. were communicated by Dr. Burney; those
to which the letters J. B. are annexed, by the Rev. J. B. Blakeway, of
Shrewsbury, to whom Mr. Boswell acknowledged himself indebted for
some judicious remarks on the first edition of his work; and the letters
J. B—. O. are annexed to some remarks furnished by the author's
second son, a student of Brazen-Nose College in Oxford. Some valu¬
able observations were communicated by James Bindley, Esq., first
commissioner in the Stamp-office, which have been acknowledged in
their proper places. For all those without any signature, Mr. Malone
is answerable. Every new remark, not written by the author, for the
sake of distinction has been enclosed within crotchets; in one instance,
however, the printer, by mistake, has affixed this mark to a note re¬
lative to the Rev. Thomas Fysche Palmer [see vol. iii., p. 243], which
was written by Mr. Boswell, and therefore ought not to have been
thus distinguished.
xl
mr. malone's advertisements.
I have only to add, that the proof-sheets of the present edition not
having passed through my hands, I am not answerable for any
typographical errors that may be found in it. Having, however, been
printed at the very accurate press of Mr. Baldwin, I make no doubt
it will be found not less perfect than the former edition; the greatest
care having been taken, by correctness and elegance, to do justice to
one of the most instructive and entertaining works in the English
language.
Edm. Malone.
8th April, 1799.
TO THE FOURTH EDITION.
In this edition are inserted some new letters, of which the greater
part has been obligingly communicated by the Rev. Dr. Vyse, Rector
of Lambeth. Those written by Dr. Johnson, concerning his mother
in her last illness, furnish a new proof of his great piety and tender¬
ness of heart, and therefore cannot but be acceptable to the readers
of this very popular work. Some new notes also have been added,
which, as well as the observations inserted in the third edition, and
the letters now introduced, are carefully included within crochets,
that the author may not be answerable for any thing which had not
the sanction of his approbation. The remarks of his friends are
distinguished as formerly, except those of Mr. Malone, to which the
letter M. is now subjoined. Those to which the letter K. is affixed
were communicated by my learned friend, the Rev. Dr. Kearney,
formerly senior Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin, and now beneficed
in the diocese of Raphoe, in Ireland, of which he is archdeacon.
Of a work which has been before the public for thirteen years with
increasing approbation, and of which near four thousand copies have
been dispersed, it is not necessary to say more; yet I cannot refrain
from adding, that, highly as it is now estimated, it will, I am con¬
fident, be still more valued by posterity a century hence, when all the
actors in the scene shall be numbered with the dead; when the
excellent and extraordinary man, whose wit and wisdom are here
recorded, shall be viewed at a still greater distance; and the instruc-
mr. malone's advertisements. xli
tion and entertainment they afford will at once produce reverential
gratitude, admiration, and delight.
E. M.
20th June, 1804.
TO THE FIFTH EDITION.
In this fifth edition some errours of the press, which had crept into
text and notes, in consequence of repeated impressions, have been
corrected. Two letters written by Dr. Johnson and several new
notes, have been added : by which, it is hoped, this valuable work is
still further improved.
E. M.
January 1st, 1807.
TO THE SIXTH EDITION.
Great pains have been taken to make this sixth edition accurate, in
point of typography. With this view the entire work has been read
over by the author's second son, James Boswell, of the Inner Temple,
Esq., by which means many errours of the press, occasioned by
repeated impressions, have been discovered. All these have been
carefully amended. Several new notes and some letters have been
added: and in the Index,—a very useful appendage to a book con¬
taining so much miscellaneous and unconnected matter,—many new
articles have been inserted-
By these improvements, the present impression has been rendered
the amplest, and it is hoped, will be found the most correct edition of
this valuable work, which has yet appeared.
E. M.
Foley Place, May 2nd, 1811.
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
IT were superfluous to expatiate on the merits, at least as a source
of amusement, of Boswell's Life of Johnson. Whatever doubts
may have existed as to the prudence or the propriety of the original
publication—however naturally private confidence was alarmed, or
individual vanity offended, the voices of criticism and complaint
were soon drowned in the general applause. And no wonder—the
work combines within itself the four most entertaining classes of
writing—biography, memoirs, familiar letters, and that assemblage of
literary anecedotes which the French have taught us to distinguish
by the termination Ana.
It was originally received with an eagerness and relished with a
zest which undoubtedly were sharpened by the curiosity which the
unexpected publication of the words and deeds of so many persons
still living could not but excite. But this motive has gradually be¬
come weaker, and may now be said to be extinct; yet we do not find
that the popularity of the work, though somewhat changed in quality,
is really diminished ; and as the interval which separates us from the
actual time and scene increases, so appear to increase the interest
and delight which we feel at being introduced, as it were, into that
distinguished society of which Dr. Johnson formed the centre, and of
which his biographer is the historian.
But though every year thus adds to the interest and instruction
which this work affords, something is, on the other hand, deducted
from the amusement which it gives, by the gradual obscurity that
time throws over the persons and incidents of private life: many
circumstances known to all the world when Mr. Boswell wrote are
already obscure to the best informed, and wholly forgotten by the
rest of mankind.
For instance, when he relates [vol.i., p. 172] that a "great personage "
called the English Divines of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. xliii
" Giants," we conclude that George III. was the great personage;
but all my inquiries (and some of His Majesty's illustrious family
have condescended to permit these inquiries to extend even to them)
have failed to ascertain to what person or on what occasion that
happy expression was used.
Again: When Mr. Boswell's capricious delicacy induced him to
suppress names and to substitute such descriptions as "an eminent
friend," "a young gentleman," "a distinguished .orator," these were
well understood by the society of the day; but it is become necessary
to apprise the reader of our times, that Mr. Burke, Mr. Sheridan, and
Mr. Fox were respectively meant. Nor is it always easy to appro¬
priate Mr. Boswell's circumlocutory designations. It will be seen in
the course of this work, that several of them have become so obscure
that even the surviving members of the Johnsonian Society were
unable to recollect who were meant, and it was on one of these
occasions that Sir James Mackintosh told me that " my work had, at
least, not come too soon."
Mr. Boswell's delicacy is termed capricious, because he is on some
occasions candid even to indiscretion, and on others unaccountably
mysterious. In the report of a conversation he will clearly designate
half the interlocutors, while the other half, without any apparent
reason, he casts into studied obscurity.
Considering himself to be (as he certainly has been to a greater
degree than he could have contemplated) one of the distributors of
fame, he has sometimes indulged his partialities or prejudices by
throwing more or less light, and lights more or less favourable, on
the different persons of his scene; some of whom he obtrudes into
broad day, while others he only "adumbrates" by imperfect allusions.
But many, even of those the most clearly designated and spoken of
as familiar to every eye and ear, have already lived their day, and are
hardly to be heard of except in this work. Yet this work must be
read with imperfect pleasure, without some knowledge of the history
of those more than half-forgotten persons.
Facts, too, fade from memory as well as names; and fashions and
follies are still more transient. But, in a book mainly composed of
familiar conversation, how large a portion most bear on the facts, the
follies, and the fashions of the time !
To clear up these obscurities—to supply these deficiencies—to
retrieve obsolete and to collect scattered circumstances—and so to
xliv PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
restore to the work as much as possible of its original clearness and
freshness, were the main objects of the present Editor. I am but too
well aware how unequal I am to the task, and how imperfectly I have
accomplished it. But as the time was rapidly passing away in which
any aid could be expected from the contemporaries of Johnson, or
even of Boswell, I determined to undertake the work—believing
that, however ill I might perform it, I should still do it better than,
twenty years later, it could be done by any diligence of research or
any felicity of conjecture.
But there were also deficiencies to be supplied. Notwithstanding
the diligence and minuteness with which Mr. Boswell detailed what
he saw of Dr. Johnson's life, his book left large chasms. It must be
recollected that they never resided in the same neighbourhood, and
that the detailed account of Johnson's domestic life and conversation
is limited to the opportunities afforded by Mr. Boswell's occasional
visits to London—by the Scottish Tour—and by one meeting at Dr.
Taylor's in Derbyshire. Of above twenty years, therefore, that their
acquaintance lasted, periods equivalent in the whole to about three-
quarters of a year only fell under the personal notice of Boswell—and
thus has been left many a long hiatus—valde deflendus, and now,
alas, quite irreparable !
Mr. Boswell endeavoured, indeed, to fill up these chasms as well
as he could with letters, memoranda, notes, and anecdotes collected
from every quarter; but the appearance of his work was so long
delayed, that Sir John Hawkins, Mrs. Piozzi, Dr. Strahan, Mr.
Tyers, Mr. Nichols, and many others, had anticipated much of what
he would have been glad to tell. Some squabbles about copyright
had warned him that he must not avail himself of their publications ;
and he was on such bad terms with his rival biographers that he could
not expect any assistance or countenance from them. He neverthe¬
less went as far as he thought the law would allow in making frequent
quotations from the preceding publications; but as to all the rest,
which he did not venture to appropriate to his own use,—the grapes
were sour-—and he took every opportunity of representing the
anecdotes of his rivals as extremely inaccurate and generally un¬
deserving of credit.
It is certain that none of them have attained—indeed they do not
pretend to—that extreme verbal accuracy with which Mr. Boswell
had, by great zeal and diligence, learned to record conversations ; nor
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. xlv
in the details of facts are they so precise as Mr. Boswell, with good
reason, claims to be. After all, however, Mr. Boswell himself is not
exempt from those errors—
" quas aut incuria fudit,
Aut humana parum cavit natura ;"
and an attentive examination and collation of the authorities (and
particularly of Mr. Boswell's own) produced the final conviction that
the minor biographers are entitled not merely to more credit than
Mr. Boswell allows them, but to as much as any person writing from
recollection, and not from notes made at the moment, can be.
But much the largest, and, for the purpose of filling up the in¬
tervals of his private history, the most valuable part of Dr. Johnson's
correspondence was out of Boswell's reach, namely, that which he for
twenty years maintained with Mrs. Thrale, and which she published
in 1788, in two volumes octavo. For the copyright of these, Mr.
Boswell says, in a tone of admiring envy, " she received five hundred
pounds." The publication, however, was not very successful—it
never reached a second edition, and is now almost forgotten. But
through these letters are scattered almost the only information we
have relative to Johnson during the long intervals between Mr.
Boswell's visits; and from them he has occasionally but cautiously
(having the fear of the copyright law before his eyes) made interesting
extracts.
These letters being now public property, I have been at liberty to
follow up Mr. Boswell's imperfect example, and have therefore made
numerous and copious selections from them, less as specimens of
Johnson's talents for letter-writing, than as notices of his domestic
and social life during the intervals of Mr. Boswell's narrative. Indeed,
as letters, few of Johnson's can have any great charm for the common
reader; they are full of good sense and good-nature, but in forms too
didactic and ponderous to be very amusing. In the extracts which I
have made from Mrs. Thrale's correspondence, I have been guided
entirely by the object of completing the history of Johnson's life.
The most important addition, however, which I have made is one
that needs no apology—the incorporation with the " Life" of
the whole of the "Tour to the Hebrides," which Boswell published
in one volume in 1785, and which, no doubt, if he could legally have
done so, he would himself have incorporated in the '/Life"—of
xlvi PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
which indeed he expressly tells us, he looks on the "Tour" but as
a portion. It is only wonderful, that since the copyright has expired,
any edition of his "Life of Johnson" should have been published
without the addition of this, the most original, curious, and amusing
portion of the whole biography.
The " Prayers and Meditations," published by Dr. Strahan too
hastily after Johnson's death, and I think in other respects also, indis¬
creetly, have likewise been made use of to an extent which was for¬
bidden to Mr. Boswell. What Dr. Strahan calls meditations are, in
fact, nothing but diaries of the author's moral and religious state of
mind, intermixed with some notices of his bodily health and of the
interior circumstances of his domestic life. Mr. Boswell had ven¬
tured to quote some of these: the present edition contains all that
appear to offer any thing of interest.
I have also incorporated a diary which Johnson had kept during a
"Tour through North Wales," made, in 1775, in company with Mr.
Thrale and his family. Mr. Boswell had, it appears, inquired in vain
for this diary : if he could have obtained it, he would, no doubt,
have inserted it, as he did the similar notes of the " Tour in France "
in the succeeding year. By the liberality of Mr. Duppa, who pub¬
lished it in 1806, with copious explanatory notes, I was enabled to
add it to my edition. I have likewise given in the Appendix an
"Account of Dr. Johnson's early life, written by himself," published
in 1802, but now become scarce ; and I have thrown into the notes
or the Appendix a few extracts from other published lives and anec¬
dotes of Dr. Johnson which seemed necessary to complete Boswell's
picture.
But besides these printed materials, I have been favoured with
many papers connected with Dr. Johnson, his life, and society,
hitherto unpublished. Of course, my first inquiries were directed
towards the original manuscript of Mr. Boswell's Journal, which would
no doubt have enabled me to fill up all the blanks and clear away
much of the obscurity that exist in the printed " Life." It was to be
hoped that the " archives of Auchinleck," which Mr. Boswell fre¬
quently and pompously mentions, would contain the original materials
of these works, which he himself, as well as the world at large, con¬
sidered as his best claims to distinction. And I thought that I was
only fulfilling the duties of courtesy in requesting from Mr. Boswell's
representative any information which he might be supposed to afford
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. xlvii
on the subject. To that request I never received any answer:
though the same inquiry was afterwards, on my behalf, repeated by
Sir Walter Scott, whose influence might have been expected to have
produced a more satisfactory result. But I was more fortunate in other
quarters.
The Reverend Doctor Hall, Master of Pembroke College, was so
good as to collate the printed copy of the " Prayers and Meditations "
with the original papers, now (most appropriately) deposited in the
library of that college, and some, not unimportant, light has been
thrown on that publication by the personal inspection of the papers
which he permitted me to make. Doctor Hall has also elucidated
some facts and corrected some misstatements in Mr. Boswell's account
of Johnson's earlier life, by an examination of the college records;
and he has found some of Johnson's Oxford exercises, one or two
specimens of which have been selected as likely to interest the clas¬
sical reader. He has further been so obliging as to select and copy
several letters written by Dr. Johnson to his early and constant
friends, the daughters of Sir Thomas Aston, which, having fallen into
the hands of Mrs. Parker, were by her son, the Reverend S. H.
Parker, presented to Pembroke College. The papers derived from
this source are marked Pemb. MSS. Dr. Hall, feeling a fraternal
interest in the most illustrious of the sons of Pembroke, continued, as
will appear in the course of the work, to favour me with his valuable
assistance.
The Reverend Dr. Harwood, the historian of Lichfield, procured
for me, through the favour of Mrs. Pearson, the widow of the legatee
of Miss Lucy Porter, many letters addressed to this lady by Johnson
for which, it seems, Mr. Boswell had inquired in vain. These papers
are marked Pearson MSS. Dr. Harwood supplied also some other
papers, and much information collected by himself.
Lord Rokeby, the nephew and heir of Mrs. Montague, was so kind
as to communicate Dr. Johnson's letters to that lady.
Mr. Langton, the grandson of Mr. Bennet Langton, has furnished
some of his grandfather's papers, and several original MSS. of Dr.
Johnson's Latin poetry, which have enabled me to explain some errors
and obscurities in the published copies of those compositions.
Mr. J. F. Palmer, the grand-nephew of Sir Joshua Reynolds and of
Miss Reynolds, most liberally communicated all the papers of that
lady, containing a number of letters or rather notes of Dr. Johnson to
xlviii PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
her, which, however trivial in themselves, tend to corroborate all that
the biographers have stated of the charity and kindness of his private
life. Mr. Palmer also contributed a paper of more importance—a
MS. of about seventy pages, written by Miss Reynolds, and entitled
" Recollections of Dr. Johnson." The authenticity and general
accuracy of these " Recollections " cannot be doubted, and I had there¬
fore admitted extracts from them into the text of my first edition; I
have now given the whole in the Appendix.
Mr. Markland has, as the reader will see by the notes to which his
name is affixed, favoured me with a great deal of zealous assistance
and valuable information.
He also communicated a copy of Mrs. Piozzi's anecdotes, copiously
annotated, propria manu, by Mr. Malone. These notes have been of
use in explaining some obscurities; they guide us also to the source
of many of Mr. Boswell's charges against Mrs. Piozzi; and have had
an effect that Mr. Malone could neither have expected or wished—
that of tending rather to confirm than to impeach that lady's veracity.
Mr. J. L. Anderdon favoured me with the inspection of a portfolio
bought at the sale of the library of Boswell's second son James, which
contained some of the original letters, memoranda, and note books,
which had been used as materials for the Life. Their chief value,
now, is to show that as far as we may judge from this specimen, the
printed book is a faithful transcript from the original notes, except
only as to the suppression of names. Mr. Anderdon's portfolio also
contains Johnson's original draft of the Prospectus of the Dic¬
tionary, and a fair copy of it (written by an amanuensis, but signed,
in form, by Johnson), addressed to Lord Chesterfield, on which his
lordship appears to have made a few critical notes.
Through the obliging interposition of Mr. Appleyard, private secre¬
tary of the second Earl Spencer, Mrs. Rose, the daughter of Dr.
Strahan, favoured me with copies of several letters of Dr. Johnson to
her father, one or two only of which Mr. Bos well had been able to
obtain.
In addition to these contributions of manuscript materials, I have
to acknowledge much and valuable assistance from numerous literary
and distinguished friends.
The venerable Lord Stowell, the friend and executor of Dr. John¬
son, was one of the first persons who suggested this work to me : he
was pleased to take a great interest in it, and kindly endeavoured to
PREFACE TO MR. CROICER'S EDITION. xlix
explain the obscurities which were stated to him ; but he confessed,
at the same time, that the application had in some instances come
rather too late, and regretted that an edition on this principle had not
been undertaken when full light might have been obtained. His
lordship was also so kind as to dictate, in his own happy and peculiar
style, some notes of his recollections of Dr. Johnson. These, by a
very unusual accident, were lost, and his lordship's great age and in¬
creasing infirmity deterred me from again troubling him on the sub¬
ject. A few points, however, in which I could trust to my own
recollection, will be found in the notes.
To my revered friend, Dr. Thomas Elrington, Lord Bishop of
Ferns, I had to offer my thanks for much valuable advice and assis¬
tance, and for a continuance of that friendly interest with which his
lordship for many years, and in more important concerns, honoured
me.
Sir Walter Scott, whose personal kindness to me and indefatigable
good-nature to every body were surpassed only by his genius, found
time from his higher occupations to annotate a considerable portion
of this work—the Tour to the Hebrides—and continued his aid to
the very conclusion of my task.
The Right Honourable Sir James Mackintosh, whose acquaintance
with literary men and literary history was so extensive, and who,
although not of the Johnsonian circle, became early in life acquainted
with most of the survivors of that society, not only approved and
encouraged my design, but was, as the reader will see, good enough
to contribute to its execution. It were to be wished, that he himself
could have been induced to undertake the work—too humble indeed
for his powers, but which he was, of all men then living, perhaps, the
fittest to execute.
Mr. Alexander Chalmers, the ingenious and learned editor of the
last London edition, gave me, with great candour and liberality, all
the assistance in his power—regretting and wondering, like Lord
Stowell and Sir James Mackintosh, that so much should be forgotten
of what at no remote period every body must have known.
To Mr. DTsraeli's love and knowledge of literary history, and to
his friendly assistance, I was very much indebted ; as well as to Mr.
(now Sir Henry) Ellis of the British Museum, for his readiness on
this and other occasions to afford me every information in his
power.
1
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
The Marquis Wellesley took an encouraging interest in the work,
and improved it by some valuable observations; and the Marquis of
Lansdowne, Earl Spencer, Lord Bexley, and Lord St. Helens, the
son of Dr. Johnson's early friend Mr. Fitzherbert, were so obliging as
to answer some inquiries with which I found it necessary to trouble
them.
In this edition (1847) I have had some valuable assistance from
Mr. Peter Cunningham (son of Allan Cunningham the Poet) as well
as from my friend Mr. Lockhart, author of the " Life of Sir Walter
Scott"—a work second only, if indeed it be second, to that of
Boswell, in all its higher qualities.
How I may have arranged all these materials, and availed myself
of so much assistance, it is not for me to decide. Situated as I was
when I began and until I had nearly completed the edition of 1835,
I could not have ventured to undertake a more serious task; and I
fear that even this desultory and gossiping kind of employment must
have suffered from the weightier occupations in which I was then en¬
gaged, as well as from my own deficiencies.
If unfortunately any one should think that I have failed in my
attempt to improve the original work, I still have the consolation of
thinking that there is no great harm done. For, as I have retrenched
nothing from the best editions of the " Life " and the " Tour," the worst
that can happen is that what I have added to the collection may, if
the reader so pleases, be rejected as surplusage.
Of the value of the notes with which my friends favoured me, I can
have no doubt; of my own, I will only say, that I have endeavoured
to make them at once concise and explanatory. I hope I have
cleared up some obscurities, supplied some deficiencies, and, in many
cases, saved the reader the trouble of referring to dictionaries and
magazines for notices of the various persons and facts which are
incidentally mentioned.
In some cases I candidly confess, and in many more I fear that I
have shown, my own ignorance; but I can say, that when I have so
failed, it has not been for want of diligent inquiry after the desired
information.
I have not considered it any part of my duty to defend or to con¬
trovert the statements or opinions recorded in the text; but in a few
instances, in which either a matter of fact has been evidently mis¬
stated, or an important principle has been heedlessly invaded or too
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
li
lightly treated, I have ventured a few words towards correcting the
error.
The desultory nature of the work itself, the repetitions in some
instances and the contradictions in others, are perplexing to those
who may seek for Dr. Johnson's final opinion on any given subject.
This difficulty I could not hope, and have, therefore, not attempted
to remove; it is inevitable in the transcript of table-talk so various,
so loose, and so extensive; but I have endeavoured to alleviate it by
occasional references to the different places where the same subject
is discussed, and by a copious, and I trust, satisfactory index.
I have added translations of most if not all the classical quotations
in the work—generally from the most approved translators—some¬
times, when they did not appear to hit the point in question, I have
ventured a version of my own.
With respect to the spirit towards Dr. Johnson himself by which I
was actuated, I beg leave to say that I feel and have always felt for
him a great, but, I hope, not a blind admiration. For his writings,
and especially for his " Vanity of Human Wishes," the "Prefaces " to
the Dictionary and Shakespeare, and the " Lives of the Poets," that
admiration has little or no alloy. In his personal conduct and
conversation there may be occasionally something to regret and
(though rarely) something to disapprove, but less, perhaps, than
there would be in those of any other man, whose words, actions, and
even thoughts should be exposed to public observation so nakedly
as, by a strange concurrence of circumstances, Dr. Johnson's have
been.
Having no domestic ties or duties, the latter portion of his life
was, as Mrs. Piozzi observes, nothing but conversation, and that con¬
versation was watched and recorded from night to night and from
hour to hour with zealous attention and unceasing diligence. No
man, the most staid or the most guarded, is always the same in
health, in spirits, in opinions. Human life is a series of inconsis¬
tencies ; and when Johnson's early misfortunes, his protracted
poverty, his strong passions, his violent prejudices, and, above all,
his bodily and I may say mental infirmities, are considered, it is only
wonderful that a portrait so laboriously minute and so painfully faith¬
ful does not exhibit more of blemish, incongruity, and error.
The life of Dr. Johnson is indeed a most curious chapter in the
history of man; for certainly there is no instance of the life of any
lii
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
other human being having been exhibited in so much detail, or with
so much fidelity. There are, perhaps, not many men who have
practised so much self-examination as to know themselves as well as
every reader knows Dr. Johnson.
We must recollect that it is not his table-talk or his literary conver¬
sations only that have been published : all his most private and most
trifling correspondence—all his most common as well as his most
confidential intercourses—all his most secret communion with his own
conscience—and even the solemn and contrite exercises of his piety,
have been divulged and exhibited to the " garish eye" of the world
without reserve—I had almost said, without delicacy. Young, with
gloomy candour, has said
" Heaven's Sovereign saves all beings but himself
That hideous sight, a naked human heart."
What a man must Johnson have been, whose heart, having been laid
more bare than that of any other mortal ever was, has passed so little
blemished through so terrible an ordeal!
But while we contemplate with such interest this admirable and
perfect portrait, let us not forget the painter. Mr. Burke told Sir
James Mackintosh that he thought Johnson showed more powers of
mind in company than in his writings, and on another occasion said,
that he thought Johnson appeared greater in Boswell's volumes than
even in his own.
It was a strange and fortunate concurrence, that one so prone to
talk and who talked so well, should be brought into such close con¬
tact 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 manners
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 applaud¬
ing, 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 ?nodest
assurance with which he pressed his acquaintance on all the notorieties
of his time, and by the ostentatious (but in the main, laudable) assiduity
with which he attended the exile Paoli and the low-born Johnson !
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
liii
These were amiable, and, for us, fortunate inconsistencies. His
contemporaries indeed, not without some colour of reason, occasion¬
ally complained of him as vain, inquisitive, 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
gaiety, which never failed in the respect and reverence due to litera¬
ture, morals, and religion : and posterity gratefully acknowledges the
taste, temper, and talents with which he selected, enjoyed, and de¬
scribed that polished and intellectual society which still lives in his
work, and without his work had perished !
" Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona
Multi: sed omnes illacrymabiles
Urgentur, ignotique longa
Nocte, carent quia vate sacro."
Such imperfect though interesting sketches as Ben Jonson's visit to
Drummond, Selden's Table Talk, Swift's Journal, and Spence's
Anecdotes, only tantalize our curiosity and excite our regret that
there was no Boswell to preserve the conversation and illustrate the
life and times of Addison, of Swift himself, of Milton, and, above all,
of Shakespeare! We can hardly refrain from indulging ourselves
with the imagination of works so instructive and delightful; but that
were idle; except as it may tend to increase our obligation to the
faithful and fortunate biographer of Dr. Johnson.
Mr. Boswell's birth and education familiarized him with the highest
of his acquaintance, and his good-nature and conviviality with the
lowest. He describes society of all classes with the happiest dis¬
crimination. Even his foibles assisted his curiosity; he was some¬
times laughed at, but always well received; he excited no envy, he
imposed no restraint. It was well known that he made notes of
every conversation, yet no timidity was seriously alarmed, no delicacy
demurred; and we are perhaps indebted to the lighter parts of his
character for the patient indulgence with which every body sub¬
mitted to sit for their pictures.
Mr. Boswell took, indeed, extraordinary and most laudable pains
to attain accuracy. Not only did he commit to paper at night the
conversation of the day, but even in general society he would
occasionally take a note of any thing remarkable that occurred ; and
liv
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION.
he afterwards spared no trouble in arranging and supplying the in¬
evitable deficiencies of these hasty memoranda.1
Nor were his talents inconsiderable. He had looked a good deal
into books, and more into the world. The narrative portion of his
works is written with good sense, in an easy and perspicuous style,
and without (which seems odd enough) any palpable imitation of
Johnson. But in recording conversations he is unrivalled : that he
was eminently accurate in substance, we have the evidence of all his
contemporaries; but he is also in a high degree characteristic—
dramatic. The incidental observations with which he explains or
enlivens the dialogue, are terse, appropriate, and picturesque—we not
merely hear his company, we see them !
Yet his father was, we are told, by no means satisfied with the life
he led, nor his eldest son with the kind of reputation he attained;
neither liked to hear of his connexion even with Paoli or Johnson;
and both would have been better pleased if he had contented him¬
self with a domestic life of sober respectability.
The public, however, the dispenser of fame, has judged differently,
and considers the biographer of Johnson as the most eminent
branch of the family pedigree. With less activity, less indiscretion,
less curiosity, less enthusiasm, he might, perhaps, have been what the
old lord would, no doubt, have thought more respectable; and have
been pictured on the walls of Auchinleck (the very name of which
we never should have heard) by some stiff, provincial painter in a
lawyer's wig or a squire's hunting cap; but his portrait, by Reynolds,
1 Mr. Wordsworth obligingly furnished me with the following copy of
a note in a blank page of his copy of Boswell's work, dictated and signed
in Mr. Wordsworth's presence by the late Sir George Beaumont, whose
own accuracy was exemplary, and who lived very much in the society of
Johnson's latter days.
" Rydal Mount, \2th Sept., 1826.
" Sir Joshua Reynolds told me at his table, immediately after the pub¬
lication of this book, that every word of it might be depended upon as if
given on oath. Bo swell was in the habit of bringing the proof sheets to
his house previously to their being struck off, and if any of the company
happened to have been present at the conversation recorded, he requested
him or them to correct any error, and, not satisfied with this, he would
run over all London for the sake of verifying any single word which
might be disputed.
" G. H. Be a umont."
PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. lv
would not have been ten times engraved; his name could never
have become—as it is likely to be—as far spread and as lasting as
the English language; and " the world had wanted " a work to which
it refers as a manual of amusement, a repository of wit, wisdom, and
morals, and a lively and faithful history of the manners and litera¬
ture of England, during a period hardly second in brilliancy, and
superior in importance, even to the Augustan age of Anne.
J. W. C.
ist May, 1831.
THE LIFE
OF
SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.
TO write the life of him who excelled all mankind in writing
the lives of*others, and who, whether we consider his
extraordinary endowments, or his various works, has been
equalled by few in any age, is an arduous, and may be reckoned
in me a presumptuous task.
Had Dr. Johnson written his own Life, in conformity with
the opinion which he has given,1 that every man's life may be
best written by himself; had he employed in the preservation
of his own history, that clearness of narration and elegance of
language in which he has embalmed so many eminent persons,
the world would probably have had the most perfect example
of biography that was ever exhibited. But although he at
different times, in a desultory manner, committed to writing
many particulars of the progress of his mind and fortunes, he
never had persevering diligence enough to form them into a
regular composition. Of these memorials a few have been
preserved ; but the greater part was consigned by him to the
flames, a few days before his death.
As I had the honour and happiness of enjoying his friend¬
ship for upwards of twenty years; as I had the scheme of
writing his life constantly in view; as he was well apprised of
this circumstance, and from time to time obligingly satisfied
my inquiries, by communicating to me the incidents of his
1 Idler, No. 84.
B
2
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
early years ; as I acquired -a facility in recollecting, and was
very assiduous in recording, his conversation, of which the
extraordinary vigour and vivacity constituted one of the first
features of his character ; and as I have spared no pains in
obtaining materials concerning him, from every quarter where
I could discover that they were to be found, and have been
favoured with the most liberal communications by his friends ;
I flatter myself that few biographers have entered upon such
a work as this, with more advantages ; independent of literary
abilities, in which I am not vain enough to compare myself
with some great names who have gone before me in this kind
of writing.
Since my work was announced, several Lives and Memoirs
of Dr. Johnson have been published, the most voluminous of
which is one compiled for the booksellers of London, by Sir
John Hawkins, Knight,1 a man, whom, during my long inti¬
macy with Dr. Johnson, I never saw in his company, I think,
but once, and I am sure not above twice. Johnson might have
esteemed him for his decent, religious demeanour, and his
knowledge of books and literary history; but, from the rigid
formality of his manners, it is evident that they never could
have lived together with companionable ease and familiarity;
nor had Sir John Hawkins that nice perception which was
necessary to mark the finer and less obvious parts of Johnson's
character. His being appointed one of his executors, gave
1 The greatest part of this book was written while Sir John Hawkins
was alive; and I avow, that one object of my strictures was to make him
feel some compunction for his illiberal treatment of Dr. Johnson. Since
his decease, I have suppressed several of my remarks upon his work.
But though I would not " war with the dead" offensively, I think it neces¬
sary to be strenuous in defence of my illustrious friend, which I cannot be,
without strong animadversions upon a writer who has greatly injured
him. Let me add, that though I doubt I should not have been very
prompt to gratify Sir John Hawkins with any compliment in his lifetime,
I do now frankly acknowledge, that, in my opinion, his volume, however
inadequate and improper as a life of Dr. Johnson, and however discredited
by unpardonable inaccuracies in other respects, contains a collection of
curious anecdotes and observations, which few men but its author could
have brought together.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
3
him an opportunity of taking possession of such fragments of
a diary and other papers as were left; of which, before deliver¬
ing them up to the residuary legatee, whose property they
were, he endeavoured to extract the substance. In this he has
not been very successful, as I have found upon a perusal of
those papers, which have been since transferred to me. Sir
John Hawkins's ponderous labours, I must acknowledge,
exhibit a farrago, of which a considerable portion is not
devoid of entertainment to the lovers of literary gossiping ;
but besides its being swelled out with long unnecessary
extracts from various works (even one of several leaves from
Osborne's Harleian Catalogue, and those not compiled by
Johnson, but by Oldys), a very small part of it relates to the
person who is the subject of the book ; and, in that, there is
such an inaccuracy in the statement of facts, as in so solemn
an author is hardly excusable, and certainly makes his narra¬
tive very unsatisfactory. But what is still worse, there is
throughout the whole of it a dark uncharitable cast, by which
the most unfavourable construction is put upon almost every
circumstance in the character and conduct of my illustrious
friend ; who, I trust, will, by a true and fair delineation, be
vindicated both from the injurious misrepresentations of this
author, and from the slighter aspersions of a lady who once
lived in great intimacy with him.
There is, in the British Museum, a letter from Bishop War-
burton to Dr. Birch, on the subject of biography, which,
though I am aware it may expose me to a charge of artfully
raising the value of my own work, by contrasting it with that
of which I have spoken, is so well conceived and expressed,
that I cannot refrain from here inserting it:
" I shall endeavour" (says Dr. Warburton), " to give you what satis¬
faction I can in any thing you want to be satisfied in any subject of
Milton, and am extremely glad you intend to write his life. Almost
all the life-writers we have had before Toland and Desmaiseaux are
indeed strange insipid creatures; and yet I had rather read the worst
of them, than be obliged to go through with this of Milton's, or the
other's life of Boileau, where there is such a dull, heavy succession of
4
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
long quotations of disinteresting passages, that it makes their method
quite nauseous. But the verbose, tasteless Frenchman seems to lay
it down as a principle, that every life must be a book, and, what's
worse, it proves a book without a life; for what do we know of
Boileau, after all his tedious stuff? You are the only one (and I speak
it without a compliment) that by the vigour of your style and senti¬
ments, and the real importance of your materials, have the art (which
one would imagine no one could have missed) of adding agreements
to the most agreeable subject in the world, which is literary history.
—Nov. 24, 1737." 1
Instead of melting down my materials into one mass, and
constantly speaking in my own person, by which I might have
appeared 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 John¬
son'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 with him, than
even most of those were who actually knew him, but could
know him only partially ; whereas there is here an accumula¬
tion of intelligence from various points, by which his character
is more fully understood and illustrated.
Indeed, I cannot conceive a more perfect mode of writing
any man's life, than not only relating all the most important
events of it in their order, but interweaving what he pri¬
vately wrote, and said, and thought; by which mankind are
enabled as it were to see him live, and to "live o'er each
scene " with him, as he actually advanced through the several
stages of his life. Had his other friends been as diligent and
ardent as I was, he might have been almost entirely pre¬
served. As it is, I will venture to say, that he will be seen
in this work more completely than any man who has ever
yet lived.
1 Brit. Mus. 4320. Ayscough's Catal. Sloane MSS.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
5
And he will be seen as he really was ; for I profess to write
not his panegyric, which must be all praise, but his life ;
which, great and good as he was, must not be supposed to be
entirely perfect. To be as he was, is indeed subject of pane¬
gyric enough to any man in this state of being ; but in every
picture there should be shade as well as light; and when I
delineate him without reserve, I do what he himself recom¬
mended, both by his precept and his example.
" If the biographer writes from personal knowledge, and makes
haste to gratify the public curiosity, there is danger lest his interest,
his fear, his gratitude, or his tenderness, overpower his fidelity, and
tempt him to conceal, if not to invent. There are many who think it
an act of piety to hide the faults or failings of their friends, even
when they can no longer suffer by their detection; we therefore see
whole ranks of characters adorned with uniform panegyric, and not
to be known from one another but by extrinsic and casual circum¬
stances. ' Let me remember,' says Hale, ' when I find myself inclined
to pity a criminal, that there is likewise a pity due to the country.' If
we owe regard to the memory of the dead, there is yet more respect
to be paid to knowledge, to virtue, and to truth."1
What I consider as the peculiar value of the following work,
is the quantity it contains of Johnson's Conversation; which
is universally acknowledged to have been eminently instruc¬
tive and entertaining ; and of which the specimens that I have
given upon a former occasion 2 have been received with so
much approbation, that I have good grounds for supposing
that the world will not be indifferent to more ample commu¬
nications of a similar nature.
That the conversation of a celebrated man, if his talents
have been exerted in conversation, will best display his cha¬
racter, is, I trust, too well established in the judgment of man¬
kind, to be at all shaken by a sneering observation of Mr.
Mason, in his Memoirs of Mr. William Whitehead, in which
there is literally no Life, but a mere dry narrative of facts. I
do not think it was quite necessary to attempt a depreciation of
' Rambler, No. 6o.
2 In the Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides. London, 1785.
6
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
what is universally esteemed, because it was not to be found in
the immediate object of the ingenious writer's pen; for, in truth,
from a man so still and so tame, as to be contented to pass
many years as the domestic companion of a superannuated
lord and lady,1 conversation could no more be expected, than
from a Chinese mandarin on a chimney-piece, or the fantastick
figures on a gilt leather skreen.
If authority be required, let us appeal to Plutarch, the
prince of ancient biographers : Oute <tm$ em^aveirratoug ttpa^eo-i
TTUVTug evectti dyhucrig apEryjg v nan lag, ahha vrpay/xa fipayu trot^aKig, km
prj/xcc, km TTMdia. Tig Ef/,<pa<xiv ydoug etto'iwev y /xaxai /xvpiovEKpoi,
TrapaTai-Eig at fxsyiarai, km TroXiopxla vroteuv: " Nor is it always in the
most distinguished achievements that men's virtues or vices
may be best discerned ; but very often an action of small
note, a short saying, or a jest, shall distinguish a person's real
character more than the greatest sieges, or the most important
battles." 2
To this may be added the sentiments of the very man whose
life I am about to exhibit.
" The business of the biographer is often to pass slightly over those
performances and incidents which produce vulgar greatness, to lead
the thoughts into domestic privacies, and display the minute details
of daily life, where exterior appendages are cast aside, and men excel
each other only by prudence and by virtue. The account of Thuanus
is, with great propriety, said by its author to have been written, that
it might lay open to posterity the private and familiar character of
that man, cujus ingenium et candorem ex ipsius scriptis sunt olirn semper
miraturi,—whose candour and genius will, to the end of time, be by
his writings preserved in admiration.
" There are many invisible circumstances, which, whether we read
as enquirers after natural or moral knowledge, whether we intend to
enlarge our science or increase our virtue, are more important than
public occurrences. Thus, Sallust, the great master of nature, has
not forgot, in his account of Catiline, to remark, that his walk was
now quick, and again slow, as an indication of a mind revolving with
1 William Whitehead lived with William, third Earl of Jersey, and
Anne Egerton, his countess.—Wright.
2 Plutarch's Life of Alexander ; Langhorne's Translation.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
7
violent commotion. Thus the story of Melancthon affords a striking
lecture on the value of time, by informing us, that when he had made
an appointment, he expected not only the hour, but the minute to be
fixed, that the day might not run out in the idleness of suspense ; and
all the plans and enterprises of De Witt are now of less importance
to the world, than that part of his personal character, which represents
him as careful of his health, and negligent of his life.
" But biography has often been allotted to writers, who seem very
little acquainted with the nature of their task, or very negligent about
the performance. They rarely afford any other account than might
be collected from public papers, but imagine themselves writing a
life, when they exhibit a chronological series of actions or prefer¬
ments; and have so little regard to the manners or behaviour of
their heroes, that more knowledge may be gained of a man's real
character by a short conversation with one of his servants, than from
a formal and studied narrative, begun with his pedigree and ended
with his funeral.
" There are, indeed, some natural reasons why these narratives are
often written by such as were not likely to give much instruction or
delight, and why most accounts of particular persons are barren and
useless. If a life be delayed till interest and envy are at an end, we
may hope for impartiality, but must expect little intelligence; for the
incidents which give excellence to biography are of a volatile and
evanescent kind, such as soon escape the memory, and are rarely
transmitted by tradition. We know how few can pourtray a living
acquaintance, except by his most prominent and observable particu¬
larities, and the grosser features of his mind; and it may be easily
imagined how much of this little knowledge may be lost in imparting
it, and how soon a succession of copies will lose all resemblance of
the original." 1
I am fully aware of the objections which may be made to
the minuteness, on some occasions, of my detail of Johnson's
conversation, and how happily it is adapted for the petty
exercise of ridicule, by men of superficial understanding, and
ludicrous fancy; but I remain firm and confident in my
opinion, that minute particulars are frequently characteristic,
and always amusing, when they relate to a distinguished man.
I am therefore exceedingly unwilling that any thing, however
1 Rambler, No. 6o.
8
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
slight, which my illustrious friend thought it worth his while
to express, with any degree of point, should perish. For this
almost superstitious reverence, I have found very old and
venerable authority, quoted by our great modern prelate,
Seeker, in whose tenth sermon there is the following pas¬
sage :
" Rabbi David Kimchi, a noted Jewish commentator, who lived
about five hundred years ago, explains that passage in the first psalm,
' His leaf also shall not wither,' from Rabbins yet older than himself,
thus: That ' even the idle talk,' so he expresses it, ' of a good man
ought to be regarded;' the most superfluous things, he saith, are
always of some value. And other ancient authors have the same
phrase, nearly in the same sense."
Of one thing I am certain, that considering how highly the
small portion which we have of the table-talk, and other
anecdotes, of our celebrated writers is valued, and how
earnestly it is regretted that we have not more, I am justified
in preserving rather too many of Johnson's sayings, than too
few; especially as, from the diversity of dispositions, it can¬
not be known with certainty beforehand, whether what may
seem trifling to some, and perhaps to the collector himself,
may not be most agreeable to many; and the greater number
that an author can please in any degree, the more pleasure
does there arise to a benevolent mind.
To those who are weak enough to think this a degrading
task, and the time and labour which have been devoted to it
misemployed, I shall content myself with opposing the au¬
thority of the greatest man of any age, Julius Caesar, of whom
Bacon1 observes, that " in his book of apophthegms which he
collected, we see that he esteemed it more honour to make
himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and pithy words
of others, than to have every word of his own to be made an
apophthegm or an oracle."
Having said thus much by way of Introduction, I commit
the following pages to the candour of the Public.
1 Advancement of Learning, Book I.
boswell's life of johnson.
9
Samuel Johnson was born at Lichfield, in Staffordshire,
on the 18th of September, N.S., 1709; and his initiation
into the Christian church was not delayed ; for his baptism
is recorded, in the register of St. Mary's parish in that city,
to have been performed on the day of his birth r1 His father
is there styled Gentleman,2 a circumstance of which an igno¬
rant 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 com¬
monly taken by those who could not boast of gentility.
His father was Michael Johnson,3 a native of Derbyshire, of
obscure extraction, who settled in Lichfield as a bookseller
and stationer. His mother was Sarah Ford,4 descended of
1 Extract from Register of Baptisms in St. Mary's Church, Lichfield.
Sept. 1709
Bapd. Sam. Son of Mich. Johnson, gen1—7.
i. e. 18. New Stile.—Editor.
a The title Gentleman had still, in 1709, some degree of its original
meaning, and as Mr. Johnson served the office of sheriff of Lichfield in
that year, he seems to have been in some measure entitled to it. At his
entry on the books of Pembroke college, and at his matriculation, he
designated himself as ftlius generosi.—Croker.
3 1657. Michaell the sonne of William Johnson and Catherine his
wife was baptized April 20.
" Copied from the Register belonging to the Parish of Cubleyin Derby¬
shire. This part of the Register is so much injured by time, that it is
uncertain whether the date is April 20 or the 2nd. I think it is the 20th.
Father's Register." Endorsement in Johnson's handwriting. Pocock MSS.
4 The following account of the Ford family, derived from the will of
Dr. Joseph Ford, a physician, drawn up by Mr. Edward Ford, author of
an excellent History of Enfield, has been obligingly communicated to me.
William Ford.
Dr. Joseph Ford.
Cornelius
brought up
Dr. Johnson
in his house till
his 15th year.
Sarah
Michael
Johnson.
Elizabeth
m.
Bowyer.
Samuel.
Nathaniel.
After whom Dr. Johnson
and his brother were
named.
Cornelius,
eldest son,
" Parson Ford."
James,
( !
Anne Phoebe,
m.
Governor
Thicknesse
(v. Cunningham's
Life of Gainsborough).
dau. mar.
Rickman.
dau. mar.
Ashton.
(Qu. any
relation of
" Molly Ashton.")
dau. mar.
Scott.
This determines some disputed points : 1. That, though Dr. Samuel
IO BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
an ancient race of substantial yeomanry in Warwickshire.
They were well advanced in years when they married,1 and
never had more than two children, both sons; Samuel, their
first-born, who lived to be the illustrious character whose
various excellence I am to endeavour to record, and Natha¬
niel, who died in his twenty-fifth year.
Mr. Michael Johnson was a man of a large and robust body,
and of a strong and active mind; yet, as in the most solid
rocks veins of unsound substance are often discovered, there
was in him a mixture of that disease, the nature of which
eludes the most minute enquiry, though the effects are well
known to be a weariness of life, and unconcern about those
things which agitate the greater part of mankind, and a
general sensation of gloomy wretchedness. From him, then,
his son inherited, with some other qualities, "a vile melan¬
choly " which, in his too strong expression of any disturbance
of the mind, " made him mad all his life, at least not sober." 2
Michael was, however, forced by the narrowness of his circum¬
stances to be very diligent in business, not only in his shop,
but by occasionally resorting to several towns in the neigh-
Swinfen was his godfather, he was named after an uncle, Samuel, and his
brother after an uncle, Nathaniel.
2. That he had two relatives of the name Cornelius Ford ; the one his
uncle, the other the eldest son of Dr. Ford (the physician,) and therefore
his cousin. By the former, Johnson was brought up till his fifteenth year :
whether this uncle was in orders is not specified, either by Boswell or in
the above pedigree. The other Cornelius Ford, Johnson's cousin, was the
"Parson Ford" of Hogarth's "Modern Midnight Conversation," whom,
at Streatham, May 12th, 1778, he calls "my acquaintance and relation,
my mother's nephew," and whom he further describes in the life of Fen-
ton (" Lives of the Poets ") " as a clergyman at that time too well known,
whose abilities, instead of furnishing convivial merriment to the volup¬
tuous and dissolute, might have enabled him to excel among the virtuous
and the wise."—Editor.
1 "Mr. John Hannett, of Henley-in-Arden, has discovered in the Re¬
gister of Packwood Church the entry of the marriage of Johnson's parents.
The following is a verbatim copy : Michell Johnsones of Litchfield and
Sara Ford married June ye 19th. 1706."—Notes and Queries. Third
series. Vol. ii., p. 384 (1862).—Editor.
2 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit., p. 213.
"M1CHAE1. JOTOETSCW,
PATH£H 0"F D1? SAM1: JOHNSON.
UruirGuved' by''£'Fvrul&nj from- a, druwi-nsj in, the posse,ssr,r?n^ of' Mr-Murray.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
II
bourhood, some of which were at a considerable distance from
Lichfield. At that time booksellers' shops in the provincial
towns of England were very rare, so that there was not one
even in Birmingham, in which town old Mr. Johnson used to
open a shop every market-day. He was a pretty good Latin
scholar,1 and a citizen so creditable as to be made one of the
magistrates of Lichfield; and, being a man of good sense, and
skill in his trade, he acquired a reasonable share of wealth, of
which, however, he afterwards lost the greatest part, by en¬
gaging unsuccessfully in a manufacture of parchment.2 He
was a zealous high-churchman and royalist, and retained his
1 Extract of a letter, dated Trentham, St. Peter's Day, 1716, written by
the Reverend George Plaxton, chaplain at that time to Lord Gower,
may serve to show the great estimation in which the father of our great
moralist was held Johnson, the Litchfield Librarian, is now here ;
he propagates learning all over this diocese, and advanceth knowledge
to its just height ; all the clergy here are his Pupils, and suck all they
have from him ; Allen cannot make a warrant without his precedent, nor
our quondam John Evans draw a recognizance sine directione Michaelis."
—Gentleman's Magazine, October, 1791. Note in second edition, vol.
i., p. 13.
2 Johnson, in his Dictionary, defines "excise, a hateful tax, levied
upon commodities, and adjudged not by the common judges of property,
but by wretches hired by those to whom excise is paid ;" and, in the
Idler (No. 65), he calls a Commissioner of Excise "one of the lowest of
all human beings." This violence of language seems so unreasonable,
that I was induced to suspect some cause of personal animosityj this
mention of the trade in parchment (an exciseable article) afforded a clue,
which has led to the confirmation of that suspicion. In the records of
the Excise Board is to be found the following letter, addressed to the
supervisor of excise at Lichfield:—"July 27. 1725. The Commissioners
received yours of the 22d instant, and since the justices would not give
judgment against Mr. Michael Johnson, the tanner, notwithstanding the
facts were fairly against him, the Board direct that the next time he
offends, you do not lay an information against him, but send an affidavit
of the fact, that he may be prosecuted in the Exchequer."—It does not
appear whether he offended again, but here is a sufficient cause of his
son's animosity against Commissioners of Excise, and of the allusion in
the Dictionary to the special jurisdiction under which that revenue is
administered. The reluctance of the justices to convict will appear not
unnatural, when it is recollected that M. Johnson was, this very year,
chief magistrate of the city.—Croker.
" It does not appear," says Mr. Croker, " whether he offended again
12
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1712.
attachment to the unfortunate house of Stuart, though he re¬
conciled himself, by casuistical arguments of expediency and
necessity, to take the oaths imposed by the prevailing power.
There is a circumstance in his life somewhat romantic, but
so well authenticated, that I shall not omit it. A young
woman of Leek, in Staffordshire, while he served his appren¬
ticeship there, conceived a violent passion for him ; and, though
it met with no favourable return, followed him to Lichfield,
where she took lodgings opposite to the house in which he
lived, and indulged her hopeless flame. When he was informed
that it so preyed upon her mind that her life was in danger,
he, with a generous humanity, went to her and offered to marry
her, but it was then too late : her vital power was exhausted ;
and she actually exhibited one of the very rare instances of
dying for love. She was buried in the cathedral of Lichfield ;
and he, with a tender regard, placed a stone over her grave with
this inscription:
Here lies the Body of
Mrs. Elizabeth Blaney, a Stranger.
She departed this Life
20th of September, 1694.1
JOHNSON'S mother was a woman of distinguished under¬
standing. I asked his old school-fellow, Mr. Hector, a surgeon,
of Birmingham,2 if she was not vain of her son. He said, " she
nay, rather, it does not appear whether he offended at all. The case was
evidently dismissed by the magistrates, who refused to entertain it; not
only, it may reasonably be inferred, because Michael Johnson was chief
magistrate .,of the city, but because, like many charges made under the
farming system of the collection of duties, it could not be substan¬
tiated. At any rate, though the discovery of the alleged offence may
redound to the credit of Mr. Croker's sagacity, his unhesitating acceptance
of the one-sided evidence did not savour of the respectful consideration
which was due to good old Michael, who, for anything proved to the con¬
trary, might have been grossly slandered by the charge.—Editor.
1 The Rev. J. G. Lonsdale, Canon of Lichfield, informs me that the
stone is no longer to be found. " The action of our damp climate here
on stone is terribly mischievous, and inscriptions cut within my own
memory are rapidly fading away."—Editor.
2 He died Sept. 2, 1794, aet. 85. He was, therefore, about the same
age as Johnson.—Croker.
^LT. 3.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
13
had too much good sense to be vain, but she knew her son's
value." Her piety was not inferior to her understanding; and
to her must be ascribed those early impressions of religion
upon the mind of her son, from which the world afterwards
derived so much benefit. He told me, that he remembered
distinctly having had the first notice of heaven, " a place to
which good people went," and hell, " a place to which bad
people went," communicated to him by her, when a little child
in bed with her ; and that it might be the better fixed in his
memory, she sent him to repeat it to Thomas Jackson, their
man-servant: he not being in the way, this was not done ;
but there was no occasion for any artificial aid for its preser¬
vation.
In following so very eminent a man from his cradle to his
grave, every minute particular which can throw light on the
progress of his mind is interesting. That he was remarkable,
even in his earliest years, may easily be supposed; for, to use
his own words in his Life of Sydenham, " That the strength of
his understanding, the accuracy of his discernment, and the
ardour of his curiosity, might have been remarked from his
infancy, by a diligent observer, there is no reason to doubt;
for there is no instance of any man, whose history has been
minutely related, that did not in every part of life discover the
same proportion of intellectual vigour."1
In all such investigations it is certainly unwise to pay too
much attention to incidents which the credulous relate with
eager satisfaction, and the more scrupulous or witty inquirer
considers only as topics of ridicule : yet there is a traditional
story of the infant Hercules of Toryism, so curiously charac¬
teristic, that I shall not withhold it. It was communicated to
me in a letter from Miss Mary Adye of Lichfield.
"When Dr. Sacheverel was at Lichfield, Johnson was not quite
three years old. My grandfather Hammond observed him at the
cathedral perched upon his father's shoulders, listening and gaping at
the much celebrated preacher. Mr. Hammond asked Mr. Johnson
how he could possibly think of bringing such an infant to church,
1 Works, vol. vi., p. 406.
14 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1712.
and in the midst of so great a crowd. He answered, because it
was impossible to keep him at home; for, young as he was, he
believed he had caught the public spirit and zeal for Sacheverel,
and would have staid for ever in the church, satisfied with beholding
him."1
Nor can I omit a little instance of that jealous independence
of spirit, and impetuosity of temper, which never forsook him.
The fact was acknowledged to me by himself, upon the
authority of his mother. One day, when the servant who
used to be sent to school to conduct him home, had not come
in time, he set out by himself, though he was then so near¬
sighted, that he was obliged to stoop down on his hands and
knees to take a view of the kennel before he ventured to step
over it. His schoolmistress, afraid that he might miss his way,
or fall into the kennel, or be run over by a cart, followed him
at some distance. He happened to turn about and perceive
her. Feeling her careful attention as an insult to his manli¬
ness, he ran back to her in a rage, and beat her, as well as his
strength would permit.
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
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 up stairs,
leaving him to study it: but by the time she had reached the
1 The gossiping anecdotes of the Lichfield ladies are all apocryphal.
Sacheverel, by his sentence, pronounced in Feb. 1710, was interdicted for
three years from preaching ; so that he could not have preached at Lith-
field while Johnson was under three years of age. Sacheverel, indeed,
made a triumphal progress through the midland counties in 1710; and it
appears by the books of the corporation of Lichfield, that he was received
in that town and complimented by the attendance of the corporation
"and a present of three dozen of wine," on the 16th of June, 1710 : but
then the " infant Hercules of toryism " was just nine months old.—
Croker.
JET. 3.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
15
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.
But there has been another story of his infant precocity
generally circulated, and generally believed, the truth of which
I am to refute upon his own authority. It is told,1 that, when
a child of three years old, he chanced to tread upon a duckling,
the eleventh of a brood, and killed it; upon which, it is said,
he dictated to his mother the following epitaph :
" Here lies good master duck,
Whom Samuel Johnson trod on;
If it had lived, it had been good luck,
For then we'd had an odd one."
There is surely internal evidence that this little composition
combines in it what no child of three years old could produce,
without an extension of its faculties by immediate inspiration ;
yet Mrs. Lucy Porter, Dr. Johnson's step-daughter, positively
maintained to me, in his presence, that there could be no doubt
of the truth of this anecdote, for she had heard it from his
mother. So difficult is it to obtain an authentic relation of
The story of Michael Johnson taking his boy to see Sacheverel does
not rest altogether on the gossip of the ladies of Lichfield. In reply to
my inquiries, Charles Simpson, Esq., Town Clerk, who is old enough to
remember Miss Mary Adye as Mrs. Sneyd—she died in 1830—informs
me that he knew also the Rev. Henry White, to whom we owe the account
of Johnson's penance at Uttoxeter ; from him Mr. Simpson heard the
Sacheverel story, which came to him " from the Doctor himself," the
story, that is, which lived in the family. The inconsistencies which Mr.
Croker mentions are indisputable ; but, these notwithstanding, the tradi¬
tion would seem to have substantial foundation. A statue of Johnson, by
Lucas, has been recently presented to the town by the late Rev. J. T. Law,
Chancellor of the Diocese, and erected immediately opposite the house
where Johnson was born. On the pedestal of the statue there are three
bas-reliefs, one of which represents Michael Johnson, with young Samuel
on his shoulder, listening to the renowned Sacheverel. It seems a pity to
disturb a tradition so firmly rooted and so piously commemorated.—Editor.
1 Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, by Hester Lynch Piozzi, p. 11 ; Life of
Dr. Johnson, by Sir John Hawkins, p. 6.
i6
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1712.
facts, and such authority may there be for error; for he assured
me, that his father made the verses, and wished to pass them
for his child's. He added, " My father was a foolish old man ;
that is to say, foolish in talking of his children." 1
Young Johnson had the misfortune to be much afflicted with
the scrofula, or king's evil, which disfigured a countenance
naturally well formed, and hurt his visual nerves so much, that
he did not see at all with one of his eyes, though its appearance
was little different from that of the other. There is amongst
his prayers, one inscribed " When my EYE was restored to its
use,"2 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 con¬
trary, 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.
1 This anecdote of the duck, though disproved by internal and ex¬
ternal evidence, has, nevertheless, upon supposition of its truth, been
made the foundation of the following ingenious and fanciful reflections of
Miss Seward, amongst the communications concerning Dr. Johnson with
which she has been pleased to favour me :—" These infant numbers con¬
tain the seeds of those propensities which, through his life, so strongly-
marked his character, of that poetic talent which afterwards bore such
rich and plentiful fruits ; for, excepting his orthographic works, everything
which Dr. Johnson wrote was poetry, whose essence consists not in num¬
bers, or in jingle, but in the strength and glow of a fancy, to which all the
stores of nature and of art stand in prompt administration ; and in an
eloquence which conveys their blended illustrations in a language ' more
tuneable than needs or rhyme or verse to add more harmony.'
"The above little verses also show that superstitious bias which 'grew
with his growth, and strengthened with his strength,' and, of late years
particularly, injured his happiness, by presenting to him the gloomy side
of religion, rather than that bright and cheering one which gilds the
period of closing life with the light of pious hope."
This is so beautifully imagined, that I would not suppress it. But, like
many other theories, it is deduced from a supposed fact, which is, indeed,
a fiction.
2 " Prayers and Meditations," p. 21. Speaking himself of the imper¬
fection of one of his eyes, he said to Dr. Burney, " the dog was never
good for much."—Burney. Note in third edition, vol. i., p. 18.
JET. 3. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 17
When he and I were travelling in the Highlands of Scotland,
and I pointed out to him a mountain which I observed re¬
sembled 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 Derbyshire, much
better than I did, I told him that he resembled an able per¬
former upon a bad instrument. How false and contemptible,
then, are all the remarks which have been made to the pre¬
judice either of his candour 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.1 His
mother, yielding to the superstitious notion, which, it is wonder¬
ful to think, prevailed so long in this country, as to the virtue
of the regal touch ; a notion which our kings encouraged, and
to which a man of such inquiry and such judgment as Carte2
could give credit; carried him to London, where he was actually
touched by Queen Anne.3 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. Piozzi4 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
1 " Dr. Swinfen told me"—so Johnson says in his own Account of his
Early Life, p. 12—" that the scrofulous sores which afflicted me, proceeded
from the bad humours of the nurse, whose son had the same distemper, and
was likewise short-sighted, but both in a less degree. My mother thought
my diseases derived from her family."—Editor.
2 In consequence of a note, in vindication of the efficacy of the royal
touch, which Carte admitted into the first volume of his History of
England, the corporation of London withdrew their subscription, and the
work instantaneously fell into almost total, but certainly undeserved,
neglect.—Nichols.
3 It appears, by the newspapers of the time, that on the 30th of March,
1712, two hundred persons were touched by Queen Anne.— Wright.
4 Anecdotes, p. 10.
C
i8
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1719.
recollection of a lady in diamonds, and a long black hood."
This touch, however, was without any effect. I ventured to
say to him, in allusion to the political principles in which he
was educated, and of which he ever retained some odour, that
" his mother had not carried him far enough ; she should have
taken him to Rome."
He was first taught to read English by Dame Oliver, a
widow, who kept a school for young children in Lichfield. He
told me she could read the black letter, and asked him to bor¬
row for her, from his father, a bible in that character. When
he was going to Oxford, she came to take leave of him,
brought him, in the simplicity of her kindness, a present of
gingerbread, and said he was the best scholar she ever had.
He delighted in mentioning this early compliment; adding,
with a smile, that " this was as high a proof of his merit as he
could conceive." His next instructor in English was a master,
whom, when he spoke of him to me, he familiarly called Tom
Brown, who, said he, "published a spelling-book, and dedicated
it to the Universe : but, I fear, no copy of it can now be had."
He began to learn Latin with Mr. Hawkins, usher or under-
master of Lichfield school, "a man," said he, "very skilful in
his little way." With him he continued two years, and then
rose to be under the care of Mr. Hunter, the head master, who,
according to his account, " was very severe, and wrongheadedly
severe.1 He used," said he, " to beat us unmercifully ; and he
did not distinguish between ignorance and negligence : for he
would beat a boy equally for not knowing a thing, as for neg¬
lecting to know it. He would ask a boy a question, and if he
did not answer it, he would beat him, without considering
1 " Mr Hunter was an odd mixture of the pedant and the sportsman ;
he was a very severe disciplinarian and a great setter of game. Happy-
was the boy who could inform his offended master where a covey of part¬
ridges was to be found ; this notice was a certain pledge of his pardon."
—Davies' Life of Garrick, vol. i. p. 3. He was a prebendary in the
Cathedral of Lichfield, and grandfather to Miss Seward. One of this
lady's complaints against Johnson was, that he, in all his works, never
expressed any gratitude to his preceptor. It does not appear that he owed
him much.—Croker.
^ET. IO. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
19
whether he had an opportunity of knowing how to answer it.
For instance, he would call up a boy and ask him Latin for a
candlestick, which the boy could not expect to be asked.
Now, sir, if a boy could answer every question, there would be
no need of a master to teach him."
It is, however, but justice to the memory of Mr. Hunter to
mention, that though he might err in being too severe, the
school of Lichfield was very respectable in his time. The
late Dr. Taylor, prebendary of Westminster, who was educated
under him, told me, that " he was an excellent master, and
that his ushers were most of them men of eminence; that
Holbrook,1 one of the most ingenious men, best scholars, and
best preachers of his age, was usher during the greatest part
of the time that Johnson was at school. Then came Hague,
of whom as much might be said, with the addition that he was
an elegant poet. Hague was succeeded by Green,2 afterwards
bishop of Lincoln, whose character in the learned world is
well known. In the same form with Johnson was Congreve,3
who afterwards became chaplain to Archbishop Boulter, and
by that connection obtained good preferment in Ireland. He
was a younger son of the ancient family of Congreve, in
Staffordshire, of which the poet was a branch. His brother
sold the estate. There was also Lowe, afterwards canon of
Windsor."
Indeed, Johnson was very sensible how much he owed to
Mr. Hunter. Mr. Langton one day asked him, how he had
acquired so accurate a knowledge of Latin, in which, I believe,
he was exceeded by no man of his time: he said, " My master
whipt me very well. Without that, Sir, I should have done
1 Edward Holbrook, A.M., afterwards minister of Wittenhall, near
Wolverhampton, and in 1744, at the request of the corporation of Lichfield,
presented by the Dean and Chapter to the vicarage of St. Mary's in that
city, ob. 1772.—Croker.
2 Dr. John Green was born in 1706, and died, Bishop of Lincoln, in
1779. He wrote three of the Athenian Letters, but was not usher at
Lichfield till after Johnson had left school.—Croker.
3 Charles Congreve, of whose latter days see Johnson's striking descrip¬
tion, sub 22 Mar. 1776.—Croker.
20
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1719.
nothing." He told Mr. Langton, that while Hunter was flog¬
ging his boys unmercifully, he used to say, " And this I do to
save you from the gallows." Johnson, upon all occasions, ex¬
pressed his approbation of enforcing instruction by means of
the rod.1 " I would rather," said he, " have the rod to be the
general terror to all, to make them learn, than tell a child, if
you do thus or thus, you will be more esteemed than your
brothers or sisters. The rod produces an effect which terminates
in itself. A child is afraid of being whipped, and gets his task,
and there's an end on't; whereas, by exciting emulation and
comparisons of superiority, you lay the foundation of lasting
mischief; you make brothers and sisters hate each other."
When Johnson saw some young ladies in Lincolnshire who
were remarkably well behaved, owing to their mother's strict
discipline and severe correction, he exclaimed, in one of
Shakspeare's lines a little varied,2
" Rod, I will honour thee for this thy duty."
That superiority over his fellows, which he maintained with
so much dignity in his march through life, was not assumed
from vanity and ostentation, but was the natural and constant
effect of those extraordinary powers of mind, of which he
could not but be conscious by comparison ; the intellectual
difference, which in other cases of comparison of characters is
often a matter of undecided contest, being as clear in his case
as the superiority of stature in some men above others. John¬
son did not strut or stand on tiptoe ; he only did not stoop.
From his earliest years, his superiority was perceived and
acknowledged. He was from the beginning"Ava| avtyuv, a king
of men. His school-fellow, Mr. Hector, has obligingly fur¬
nished me with many particulars of his boyish days ; and
1 Johnson's observation to Dr. Rose on this subject deserves to be re¬
corded. Rose was praising the mild treatment of children at school, at a
time when flogging began to be less practised than formerly. " But then,"
said J ohnson, " they get nothing else, and what they gain at one end they
lose at the other."—Burney. [Third edit. vol. i. 21.]
2 This line is in King Henry VI., Part II. act iv. sc. last:—
" Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed."—Malone.
JET. IO.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
21
assured me that he never knew him corrected at school, but
for talking and diverting other boys from their business. He
seemed to learn by intuition ; for though indolence and pro¬
crastination were inherent in his constitution, whenever he
made an exertion he did more than any one else. In short,
he is a memorable instance of what has been often observed,
that the boy is the man in miniature; and that the distinguish¬
ing characteristics of each individual are the same, through the
whole course of life. His favourites used to receive very liberal
assistance from him ; and such was the submission and defe¬
rence with which he was treated, such the desire to obtain his
regard, that three of the boys, of whom Mr. Hector was some¬
times one, used to come in the morning as his humble atten¬
dants, and carry him to school. One in the middle stooped,
while he sat upon his back, and one on each side supported
him ; and thus he was borne triumphant.1 Such a proof of the
early predominance of intellectual vigour is very remarkable,
and does honour to human nature. Talking to me once him¬
self of his being much distinguished at school, he told me,
" They never thought to raise me by comparing me to any one ;
they never said, Johnson is as good a scholar as such a one,
but such a one is as good a scholar as Johnson ; and this was
said but of one, but of Lowe ; and I do not think he was as
good a scholar."
He discovered a great ambition to excel, which roused him
to counteract his indolence. He was uncommonly inquisitive ;
and his memory was so tenacious, that he never forgot any
thing that he either heard or read. Mr. Hector remembers
having recited to him eighteen verses, which, after a little
pause, he repeated verbatim, varying only one epithet, by which
he improved the line.
He never joined with the other boys in their ordinary diver¬
sions ; his only amusement was in winter, when he took a
pleasure in being drawn upon the ice by a boy barefooted, who
pulled him along by a garter fixed round him ; no very easy
1 This forms the subject of one of the bas-reliefs on the pedestal of the
statue mentioned (note) p. 15.—Editor.
22
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1724.
operation, as his size was remarkably large. His defective
sight, indeed, prevented him from enjoying the common
sports; and he once pleasantly remarked to me, " how wonder¬
fully well he had contrived to be idle without them." Lord
Chesterfield, however, has justly observed in one of his letters,
when earnestly cautioning a friend against the pernicious
effects of idleness, that active sports are not to be reckoned
idleness in young people ; and that the listless torpor of doing
nothing alone deserves that name. Of this dismal inertness
of disposition, Johnson had all his life too great a share. Mr.
Hector relates, that " he could not oblige him more than by
sauntering away the hours of vacation in the fields, during
which he was more engaged in talking to himself than to his
companion."
Dr. Percy,1 the Bishop of Dromore, who was long intimately
acquainted with him, and has preserved a few anecdotes con¬
cerning him, regretting that he was not a more diligent col¬
lector, informs me, that " when a boy he was immoderately
fond of reading romances of chivalry, and he retained his
fondness for them through life; so that," adds his lordship,
" spending part of a summer at my parsonage-house in the
country, he chose for his regular reading the old Spanish
romance of ' Felixmarte of Hircania,' in folio, which he read
quite through. Yet I have heard him attribute to these extra¬
vagant fictions that unsettled turn of mind which prevented his
ever fixing in any profession."
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. This step was taken by the
advice of his cousin, the Rev. Mr. Ford, a man in whom both
1 Thomas Percy was born at Bridgnorth 1728, and educated at Christ
Church, Oxford. In 1778 he was made Dean of Carlisle ; in 1782 was
consecrated Bishop of Dromore; and died at his episcopal palace, Dro¬
more, Sept. 30, 1811, in his eighty-third year. In 1765 he published his
celebrated Reliques of Ancient English Poetry ; a book which forms an era
in the history of English literature.—Editor.
JET. 15.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
23
talents and good dispositions were disgraced by licentiousness,1
but who was a very able judge of what was right. At this
school he did not receive so much benefit as was expected. It
has been said, that he acted in the capacity of an assistant to
Mr. Wentworth, in teaching the younger boys. " Mr. Went-
worth," he told me, " was a very able man, but an idle man,
and to me very severe ; but I cannot blame him much. I was
then a big boy; he saw I did not reverence him, and that he
should get no honour by me. I had brought enough with me
to carry me through; and all I should get at his school would
be ascribed to my own labour, or to my former master. Yet he
taught me a great deal."
He thus discriminated, to Dr. Percy, Bishop of Dromore, his
progress at his two grammar-schools :—" At one, I learned
much in the school, but little from the master; in the other, I
learnt much from the master, but little in the school."
The Bishop also informs me, that Dr. Johnson's father, before
he was received at Stourbridge, applied to have him admitted
as a scholar and assistant to the Rev. Samuel Lea, M. A., head
master of Newport school, in Shropshire ; (a very diligent good
teacher, at that time in high reputation, under whom Mr. Hollis
is said, in the Memoirs of his Life,2 to have been also educated).3
This application to Mr. Lea was not successful; but Johnson
had afterwards the gratification to hear that the old gentle¬
man, who lived to a very advanced age, mentioned it as one of
the most memorable events of his life, that " he was very near
having that great man for his scholar."
He remained at Stourbridge little more than a year,4 and
then he returned home, where he may be said to have loitered,
for two years, in a state very unworthy his uncommon abilities.
1 He is said to be the original of the parson in Hogarth's Midnight
Modern Conversation. See note 3, p. 10.—Editor.
2 Memoirs, Lond. 1780. 4to., 2 vols.—Editor.
3 As was likewise the Bishop of Dromore many years afterwards.
4 Yet here his genius was so distinguished that, although little better
than a school-boy, he was admitted into the best company of the place,
and had no common attention paid to him ; of which remarkable instances
were long remembered there.—Percy.
24
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1728.
He had already given several proofs of his poetical genius,
both in his school-exercises and in other occasional composi¬
tions. Of these I have obtained a considerable collection, by
the favour of Mr. Wentworth, son of one of his masters, and
of Mr. Hector, his schoolfellow and friend ; from which I select
the following specimens :—
Translation of Virgil. Pastoral I.
Melibceus.
Now, Tityrus, you, supine and careless laid,
Play on your pipe beneath this beechen shade;
While wretched we about the world must roam,
And leave our pleasing fields and native home,
Here at your ease you sing your amorous flame,
And the wood rings with Amarillis' name.
Tityrus.
Those blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd,
For I shall never think him less than God:
Oft on his altar shall my firstlings lie,
Their blood the consecrated stones shall dye:
He gave my flocks to graze the flowery meads,
And me to tune at ease th' unequal reeds.
Meliboeus.
My admiration only I exprest
(No spark of envy harbours in my breast),
That, when confusion o'er the country reigns,
To you alone this happy state remains.
Here I, though faint myself, must drive my goats,
Far from their ancient fields and humble cots.
This scarce I lead, who left on yonder rock
Two tender kids, the hopes of all the flock.
Had we not been perverse and careless grown,
This dire event by omens was foreshown;
{ Our trees were blasted by the thunder stroke,
, \ And left-hand crows, from an old hollow oak,
( Foretold the coming evil by their dismal croak.
JET. 19. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
25
Translation of Horace. Book I. Ode xxii.
The man, my friend, whose conscious heart
With virtue's sacred ardour glows,
Nor taints with death the envenom'd dart,
Nor needs the guard of Moorish bows:
Though Scythia's icy cliffs he treads,
Or horrid Afric's faithless sands;
Or where the famed Hydaspes spreads
His liquid wealth o'er barbarous lands.
For while by Chloe's image charm'd,
Too far in Sabine woods I stray'd;
Me singing, careless and unarm'd,
A grizzly wolf surprised, and fled.
No savage more portentous stain'd
Apulia's spacious wilds with gore;
No fiercer Juba's thirsty land,
Dire nurse of raging lions, bore.
Place me where no soft summer gale
Among the quivering branches sighs;
Where clouds condens'd for ever veil
With horrid gloom the frowning skies:
Place me beneath the burning line,
A clime denied to human race :
I'll sing of Chloe's charms divine,
Her heavenly voice and beauteous face.
Translation of Horace. Book II. Ode ix
Clouds do not always veil the skies,
Nor showers immerse the verdant plain;
Nor do the billows always rise,
Or storms afflict the ruffled main.
26
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1728
Nor, Valgius, on th' Armenian shores
Do the chain'd waters always freeze;
Not always furious Boreas roars,
Or bends with violent force the trees.
But you are ever drown'd in tears,
For Mystes dead you ever mourn;
No setting Sol can ease your care,
But finds you sad at his return.
The wise experienc'd Grecian sage
Mourn'd not Antilochus so long;
Nor did King Priam's hoary age
So much lament his slaughter'd son.
Leave off, at length, these woman's sighs,
Augustus' numerous trophies sing;
Repeat that prince's victories,
To whom all nations tribute bring.
Niphates rolls an humbler wave,
At length the undaunted Scythian yields,
Content to live the Roman's slave,
And scarce forsakes his native fields.
Translation of Part of the Dialogue between Hector and
Andromache. From the Sixth Book of Homer's Iliad.
She ceased ; then godlike Hector answer'd kind
(His various plumage sporting in the wind),
That post and all the rest, shall be my care;
But shall I, then, forsake th' unfinish'd war ?
How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name !
And one base action sully all my fame,
Acquir'd by wounds and battles bravely fought!
Oh ! how my soul abhors so mean a thought.
Long since I learn'd to slight this fleeting breath,
And view with cheerful eyes approaching death.
The inexorable sisters have decreed
That Priam's house and Priam's self shall bleed :
7ET. ig.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
27
The day will come in which proud Troy shall yield,
And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field.
Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age,
Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage,
Nor my brave brothers, that have bit the ground,
Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly wound,
Can in my bosom half that grief create,
As the sad thought of your impending fate :
When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose,
Mimic your tears, and ridicule your woes;
Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat,
And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight:
Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry,
Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy !
Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes,
And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs.
Before that day, by some brave hero's hand,
May I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand !
To a Young Lady on her Birthday.1
This tributary verse receive, my fair,
Warm with an ardent lover's fondest prayer.
May this returning day for ever find
Thy form more lovely, more adorn'd thy mind;
All pains, all cares, may favouring Heaven remove,
All but the sweet solicitudes of love !
May powerful nature join with grateful art,
To point each glance, and force it to the heart!
Oh then, when conquer'd crowds confess thy sway,
When ev'n proud wealth and prouder wit obey,
My fair, be mindful of the mighty trust,
Alas ! 'tis hard for beauty to be just.
Those sovereign charms with strictest care employ;
Nor give the generous pain, the worthless joy;
With his own form acquaint the forward fool,
Shown in the faithful glass of ridicule;
1 Mr. Hector informs me that this was made almost impromptu in his
presence.
28
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1728.
Teach mimic censure her own faults to find,
No more let coquettes to themselves be blind,
So shall Belinda's charms improve mankind.
The Young Author.1
When first the peasant, long inclin'd to roam,
Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home,
Pleas'd with the scene the smiling ocean yields,
He scorns the verdant meads and flow'ry fields ;
Then dances jocund o'er the watery way,
While the breeze whispers, and the streamers play:
Unbounded prospects in his bosom roll,
And future millions lift his rising soul;
In blissful dreams he digs the golden mine,
And raptur'd sees the new-found ruby shine.
Joys insincere ! thick clouds invade the skies,
Loud roar the billows, high the waves arise;
Sick'ning with fear, he longs to view the shore,
And vows to trust the faithless deep no more.
So the young Author, panting after fame,
And the long honours of a lasting name,
Intrusts his happiness to human kind,
More false, more cruel, than the seas or wind.
"Toil on, dull crowd," in ecstasies he cries,
"For wealth or title, perishable prize;
" While I those transitory blessings scorn,
" Secure of praise from ages yet unborn."
This thought once form'd, all counsel comes too late,
He flies to press, and hurries on his fate;
Swiftly he sees the imagin'd laurels spread,
And feels the unfading wreath surround his head.
Warn'd by another's fate, vain youth, be wise,
Those dreams were Settle's once, and Ogilby's.
The pamphlet spreads, incessant hisses rise,
To some retreat the baffled writer flies;
1 This he inserted, with many alterations, in the Gentleman's Maga¬
zine, 1743, p. 378. He, however, did not add his name.—Malone.
jET. 19.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
29
Where no sour critics snarl, no sneers molest,
Safe from the tart lampoon and stinging jest;
There begs of Heaven a less distinguish'd lot,
Glad to be hid, and proud to be forgot.
Epilogue intended to have been spoken by a Lady who was
to personate the Ghost of Hermione.1
Ye blooming train, who give despair or joy,
Bless with a smile, or with a frown destroy;
In whose fair cheeks destructive Cupids wait,
And with unerring shafts distribute fate;
Whose snowy breasts, whose animated eyes,
Each youth admires, though each admirer dies ;
Whilst you deride their pangs in barb'rous play,
Unpitying see them weep, and hear them pray,
And unrelenting sport ten thousand lives away;
For you, ye fair, I quit the gloomy plains,
Where sable night in all her horror reigns;
No fragrant bowers, no delightful glades,
Receive the unhappy ghosts of scornful maids.
For kind, for tender nymphs the myrtle blooms,
And weaves her bending boughs in pleasing glooms :
Perennial roses deck each purple vale,
And scents ambrosial breathe in every gale :
Far hence are banish'd vapours, spleen, and tears,
Tea scandal, ivory teeth, and languid airs:
No pug, nor favourite Cupid there enjoys
The balmy kiss, for which poor Thyrsis dies;
Form'd to delight, they use no foreign arms,
Nor torturing whalebones pinch them into charms;
No conscious blushes there their cheeks inflame,
For those who feel no guilt can know no shame;
Unfaded still their former charms they shew,
Around them pleasures wait, and joys for ever new.
But cruel virgins meet severer fates ;
Expell'd and exiled from the blissful seats,
1 Some young ladies at Lichfield having proposed to act The Dis¬
tressed Mother, Johnson wrote this, and gave it to Mr. Hector to convey
it privately to them.
30
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1728.
To dismal realms, and regions void of peace,
Where furies ever howl, and serpents hiss.
O'er the sad plains perpetual tempests sigh,
And pois'nous vapours black'ning all the sky,
With livid hue the fairest face o'ercast,
And every beauty withers at the blast:
Where'er they fly their lovers' ghosts pursue,
Inflicting all those ills which once they knew;
Vexation, Fury, Jealousy, Despair,
Vex ev'ry eye, and ev'ry bosom tear ;
Their foul deformities by all descried,
No maid to flatter, and no paint to hide.
Then melt, ye fair, while clouds around you sigh,
Nor let disdain sit louring in your eye;
With pity soften every awful grace,
And beauty smile auspicious in each face;
To ease their pains exert your milder power,
So shall you guiltless reign, and all mankind adore.
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.1 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 hisj. 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.2 What he read
1 His father took him home, probably with a view to bring him up to
his own trade ; for I have heard Johnson say that he himself was able to
bind a book.—Hawkins, Life, p. 9.—Editor.
2 Hawkins says that "A neighbouring gentleman, Mr. Andrew Corbett,
having a son, who had been educated in the same school with Johnson,
JET. 19. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
31
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, 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 regard
his own hasty confession of idleness ; for we see, when he ex¬
plains 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 flavour than that
whom he was about to send to Pembroke College, in Oxford, a proposal was
made and accepted, that Johnson should attend his son thither in quality
of assistant in his studies," Life, p. 9.
But the indisputable dates of Corbett's college life do not tally with the
accounts of either Boswell or Hawkins. Corbett was of the University
twenty months before and twelve or thirteen months after Johnson. And,
on reference to the college books, it appears that Corbett's residence was
so irregular, and so little coincident with Johnson's, that there is no reason
to suppose that Johnson was employed either as the private tutor of Cor¬
bett, as Hawkins states, or his companion, as Boswell suggests. Much
more probable is the statement made in the Memoirs, p. 16, before men¬
tioned, that his godfather Dr. Swinfen and some other gentlemen of the
neighbourhood contributed to send him to Oxford. This is corroborated
by the facts of his having been sent to Dr. Swinfen's own college, and of
his constant and generous protection of Mrs. Desmoulins, Dr. Swinfen's
daughter, from whom, indeed, the writer of the Memoirs seems to have
derived his information.— Croker.
32
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1728.
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 pre¬
sent, and gave me some account of what passed on the night
of Johnson's arrival at Oxford. On that evening, his 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." 1
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.
His tutor, Mr. Jorden, fellow of Pembroke, was not, it seems,
a man of such abilities as we should conceive requisite for the
1 Athen. Oxon., edit. 1721, i. 627.
;et. 19. boswell's life of johnson. 33
instructor of Samuel Johnson, who gave me the following
account of him : " He was a very worthy man, but a heavy
man ; and I did not profit much by his instructions. Indeed,
I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to
college I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On the
sixth, Mr. Jorden asked me why I had not attended. I
answered, I had been sliding in Christ-church meadow. And
this I said with as much nonchalance as I am now 1 talking to
you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my
tutor."—boswell. " That, Sir, was great fortitude of mind."
—Johnson. " No, Sir ; stark insensibility." 2
The fifth of November was at that time kept with great
solemnity at Pembroke College, and exercises upon the sub¬
ject of the day were required. Johnson neglected to perform
his, which is much to be regretted ; for his vivacity of imagi¬
nation, and force of language, would probably have produced
something sublime upon the Gunpowder Plot. To apologize
for his neglect, he gave in a short copy of verses, entitled
" Somnium," containing a common thought " that the Muse
had come to him in his sleep and whispered, that it did not
become him to write on such subjects as politics ; he should
confine himself to humbler themes : " but the versification was
truly Virgilian.
He had a love and respect for Jorden, not for his literature,3
but for his worth. " Whenever," said he, " a young man becomes
Jorden's pupil, he becomes his son."
1 Oxford, 20th March, 1776.
2 It ought to be remembered that, Dr. Johnson was apt, in his literary
as well as moral exercises, to overcharge his defects. Dr. Adams informed
me that he attended his tutor's lectures, and also the lectures in the College
Hall very regularly.
When, says Mrs. Piozzi, he related to me this anecdote, he laughed very
heartily at the recollection of his own insolence, and said they endured it
from him with wonderful acquiescence and a gentleness that, whenever he
thought of it, astonished himself.—Anecdotes, p. 30.—Editor.
3 Johnson used to say, " He scarcely knew a noun from an adverb."—
Nichols.
Johnson told Mr. Windham that he was so ignorant as to say that the
R a me i (the disciples of Ramus) were so called from ramus,a bough.—Croker.
d
34
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1729.
Having given such a specimen of his poetical powers, he was
asked by Mr. Jorden to translate Pope's " Messiah " into Latin
verse, as a Christmas exercise. He performed it with uncom¬
mon rapidity, and in so masterly a manner, that he obtained
great applause from it, which ever after kept him high in the
estimation of his college, and, indeed, of all the university.
It is said, that Mr. Pope expressed himself concerning it in
terms of strong approbation. Dr. Taylor told me, that it was
first printed for old Mr. Johnson, without the knowledge of his
son, who was very angry when he heard of it. A Miscellany
of Poems, collected by a person of the name of Husbands, was
published at Oxford in 1731.1 In that Miscellany, Johnson's
Translation of the "Messiah" appeared, with this modest motto
from Scaliger's " Poetics," " Ex alieno ingeniopoeta, ex suo tan-
tmn versificatory
I am not ignorant that critical objections have been made to
this and other specimens of Johnson's Latin poetry. I acknow¬
ledge myself not competent to decide on a question of such
extreme nicety. But I am satisfied with the just and dis¬
criminative eulogy pronounced upon it by my friend Mr.
Courtenay.
" And with like ease his vivid lines assume
The garb and dignity of ancient Rome.
Let college verse-men trite conceits express,
Trick'd out in splendid shreds of Virgil's dress;
From playful Ovid cull the tinsel phrase,
And vapid notions hitch in pilfer'd lays,
Then with mosaic art the piece combine,
And boast the glitter of each dulcet line :
Johnson adventur'd boldly to transfuse
His vigorous sense into the Latin muse;
Aspir'd to shine by unreflected light,
And with a Roman's ardour think and write.
1 Husbands, in the preface to his Miscellany, says :—" The transla¬
tion of Mr. Pope's Messiah was delivered to his tutor as a college exer¬
cise, by Mr. Johnson, a commoner of Pembroke College, in Oxford, and
'tis hoped will be no discredit to the excellent original." Husbands was
admitted a fellow of Pembroke in 1726.—Editor.
ALT. 20.
boswell's life of johnson.
35
He felt the tuneful Nine his breast inspire,
And, like a master, wak'd the soothing lyre :
Horatian strains a grateful heart proclaim,
While Sky's wild rocks resound his Thralia's name.1
Hesperia's plant, in some less skilful hands,
To bloom a while, factitious heat demands :
Though glowing Maro a faint warmth supplies,
The sickly blossom in the hot-house dies.
By Johnson's genial culture, art, and toil,
Its root strikes deep, and owns the fostering soil;
Imbibes our sun through all its swelling veins,
And grows a native of Britannia's plains. " 2
The " morbid melancholy," which was lurking in his consti¬
tution, 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 him¬
self overwhelmed with a horrible hypochondria, with perpetual
irritation, fretfulness, and impatience ; and with a dejection,
gloom, and despair, which made existence misery.3
From this dismal malady he never afterwards was perfectly
relieved, and all his labours, 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 blessed with all the powers of genius and understanding
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 en-
1 In allusion to the Latin ode written in the island of Skye, and ad¬
dressed to Mrs. Thrale. See Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd ed. p. 147.—
Editor.
2 " Poetical Review of the Literary and Moral Character of Dr. John¬
son," by John Courtenay, Esq., M.P.
3 It is to this state, no doubt, Mr. Hector alludes in his Recollections:—
" After a long absence from Litchfield, when he returned I was apprehen¬
sive of something wrong in his constitution, which might impair either his
intellect or endanger his life, but, thanks to Almighty God, my fears have
proved false."—Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 8 —Editor.
36 bos well's life of johnson. 1729.
dowments. 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. Paradise1 that
he was sometimes so languid and inefficient, that he could not
distinguish the hour upon the town-clock.
Johnson, upon the first violent attack of this disorder, strove
to overcome it by forcible exertions. He frequently walked
to Birmingham and back again, and tried many other ex¬
pedients, but all in vain. His expression concerning it to me
was, " I did not then know how to manage it." His distress
became so intolerable, that he applied to Dr. Swinfen, physi¬
cian in Lichfield, his godfather, and put into his hands a state
of his case, written in Latin. Dr. Swinfen was so much struck
with the extraordinary acuteness, research, and eloquence of
this paper, that in his zeal for his godson he showed it to several
people. His daughter, Mrs. Desmoulins, who was many years
humanely supported in Dr. Johnson's house in London, told
me, that upon his discovering that Dr. Swinfen had communi¬
cated his case, he was so much offended that he was never
afterwards fully reconciled to him. He indeed had good
reason to be offended; for though Dr. Swinfen's motive was
good, he inconsiderately betrayed a matter deeply interesting
and of great delicacy, which had been intrusted to him in
confidence ; and exposed a complaint of his young friend and
patient, which, in the superficial opinion of the generality of
mankind, is attended with contempt and disgrace.
But let not little men triumph upon knowing that Johnson
was an Hypochondriack, was subject to what the learned,
philosophical, and pious Dr. Cheyne has so well treated under
the title of "The English Malady." Though he suffered
severely from it, he was not therefore degraded. The powers
1 John Paradise, Esq., D.C.L. of Oxford, and F.R.S., was of Greek ex¬
traction, the son of the English consul at Salonica, where he was born :
he was educated at Padua, but resided the greater part of his life in Lon¬
don ; in the literary circles of which he was generally known, and highly
esteemed. He became intimate with Johnson in the latter portion of the
Doctor's life ; was a member of his Essex Street club, and attended his
funeral. He died Dec. 12th, 1795.—Croker.
JET. 20.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
37
of his great mind might be troubled, and their full exercise
suspended at times ; but the mind itself was ever entire. As
a proof of this, it is only necessary to consider, that, when he
was at the very worst, he composed that state of his own case,
which showed an uncommon vigour, not only of fancy and
taste, but of judgment. I am aware that he himself was too
ready to call such a complaint by the name of madness; in
conformity with which notion, he has traced its gradations,
with exquisite nicety, in one of the chapters of his " Rasselas."
But there is surely a clear distinction between a disorder which
affects only the imagination and spirits, while the judgment is
sound, and a disorder by which the judgment itself is impaired.
This distinction was made to me by the late Professor Gaubius1
of Leyden, physician to the Prince of Orange, in a conversation
which I had with him several years ago, and he expanded it
thus : " If," said he, " a man tells me that he is grievously dis¬
turbed, for that he imagines he sees a ruffian coming against
him with a drawn sword, though at the same time he is
conscious it is a delusion, I pronounce him to have a dis¬
ordered imagination ; but if a man tells me that he sees this,
and in consternation calls to me to look at it, I pronounce him
to be mad."
It is a common effect of low spirits or melancholy, to make
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 labour 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 vapours 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,
1 Jerome David Gaubius was born at Heidelberg, in 1705. He died in
1780, leaving several works of considerable value. A translation into
English of his Institutiones Pathologic Medicinalis appeared in 1779.—
Wright.
33
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1729.
was the object of his most dismal apprehension ; and he fancied
himself seized by it, or approaching to it, at the very time when
he was giving proofs of a more than ordinary soundness and
vigour 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 undoubted 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.
Amidst the oppression and distraction of a disease which
very few have felt in its full extent, but many1 have expe¬
rienced in a slighter degree, Johnson, in his writings, and in his
conversation, never failed to display all the varieties of intel¬
lectual excellence.2 In his march through this world to a better,
his mind still appeared grand and brilliant, and impressed all
around him with the truth of Virgil's3 noble sentiment—
" Igneus est ollis vigor et ccelestis or/go."
1 Mr. Boswell was himself occasionally afflicted with this morbid de¬
pression of spirits, and was, at intervals, equally liable to paroxysms of
what may be called morbid vivacity. He wrote a series of essays in
The London Magazine, under the title of the Hypochondriack, seventy in
number, commencing in 1777, and carried on till 1783.—Croker.
Jan. 29th, 1791, Boswell writes thus to Mr. Malone :—" I have, for some
weeks, had the most woful return of melancholy ; insomuch that I have not
only had no relish of anything, but a continual uneasiness ; and all the
prospect before me, for the rest of life, has seemed gloomy and hopeless."
Again, March 8th :—" In the night between the last of February and
first of this month, I had a sudden relief from the inexplicable disorder,
which occasionally clouds my mind and makes me miserable."—From the
originals in the possession of Mr. Upcott. — Wright.
2 " Hypochondriacism has been the complaint of the good, and the wise,
and the witty, and even of the gay. Regnard, the author of the best
French comedy after Moliere, was atrabilious, and Moliere himself satur¬
nine. Dr. Johnson, Gray, and Burns, were all, more or less, affected by
it occasionally. It was the prelude to the more awful malady of Collins,
Cowper, Swift, and Smart ; but it by no means follows that a partial afflic¬
tion of this disorder is to terminate like theirs."-—Byron, vol. vi. p. 396.—
Wright.
3 vLn. vi. 730.
JET. 20.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
39
The history of his mind as to religion is an important article.
I have mentioned the early impressions made upon his tender
imagination by his mother, who continued her pious cares with
assiduity, but, in his opinion, not with judgment. " Sunday,"
said he, " was a heavy day to me when I was a boy. My mother
confined me on that day, and made me read ' The Whole Duty
of Man,' from a great part of which I could derive no instruc¬
tion. When, for instance, I had read the chapter on theft,
which from my infancy I had been taught was wrong, I was no
more convinced that theft was wrong than before ; so there was
no accession of knowledge. A boy should be introduced to
such books, by having his attention directed to the arrange¬
ment, to the style, and other excellencies of composition; that
the mind being thus engaged by an amusing variety of objects,
may not grow weary."
He communicated to me the following particulars upon the
subject of his religious progress. " I fell into an inattention
to religion, or an indifference about it, in my ninth year. The
church at Lichfield, in which we had a seat, wanted reparation,
so I was to go and find a seat in other churches ; and having
bad eyes, and being awkward about this, I used to go and read
in the fields on Sunday. This habit continued till my four¬
teenth year ; and still I find a great reluctance to go to church.
I then became a sort of lax talker against religion, for I did
not much think against it; and this lasted till I went to Ox¬
ford, where it would not be suffered. When at Oxford, I took
up ' Law's1 Serious Call to a Holy Life,' expecting to find it a
dull book (as such books generally are), and perhaps to laugh
at it. But I found Law quite an overmatch for me ; and this
was the first occasion of my thinking in earnest of religion,
after I became capable of rational enquiry."2 From this time
1 William Law was born 1686, entered, in 1705, of Em. Coll., Cambridge,
Fellow in 1711, and A.M. in 1712. On the accession of the Hanover
family he refused the oaths. He was tutor to Mr. Gibbon's father, at
Putney, and finally retired, with two pious ladies, Mrs. Hutchinson and
Mrs. Gibbon, the aunt of the historian, to a kind of conventual seclusion
at King's Cliffe, his native place. He died in 1761 .— Croker.
2 Mrs. Piozzi has given a strange fantastical account of the original of
40
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1729.
forward religion was the predominant object of his thoughts ;
though, with the just sentiments of a conscientious Christian,
he lamented that his practice of its duties fell far short of what
it ought to be.
This instance of a mind such as that of Johnson being first
disposed, by an unexpected incident, to think with anxiety of
the momentous concerns of eternity, and of " what he should
do to be saved," may for ever be produced in opposition to the
superficial and sometimes profane contempt that has been
thrown upon those occasional impressions which it is certain
many Christians have experienced : though it must be acknow¬
ledged that weak minds, from an erroneous supposition that
no man is in a state of grace who has not felt a particular
Dr. Johnson's belief in our most holy religion :—" At the age of ten years
his mind was disturbed by scruples of infidelity, which preyed upon his
spirits, and made him very uneasy ; the more so, as he revealed his un¬
easiness to none, being naturally (as he said) of a sullen temper, and re¬
served disposition. He searched, however, diligently, but fruitlessly, for
evidences of the truth of revelation ; and at length, recollecting a book he
had once seen [/ suppose at Jive years old~\ in his father's shop, entitled
De Veritate Religionis, &c. he began to think himself highly culpable for
neglecting such means of information, and took himself severely to task
for this sin, adding many acts of voluntary, and to others unknown, -penance.
The first opportunity which offered, of course, he seized the book with
avidity ; but on examination, not finding himself scholar enough to peruse
its contents, set his heart at rest; and not thinking to enquire whether
there were any English books written on the subject, followed his usual
amusements, and considered his conscience as lightened of a crime. He
redoubled his diligence to learn the language that contained the informa¬
tion he most wished for ; but from the pain which guilt [namely, having
omitted to read what he did not understand] had given him, he now began
to deduce the soul's immortality \a sensation of pain in this world being
an unquestionable proof of existence in another\ which was the point that
belief first stopped at; and from that moment resolving to be a Christian,
became one of the most zealous and pious ones our nation ever produced."
—Anecdotes, p. 17.
This is one of the numerous misrepresentations of this lively lady, which
it is worth while to correct ; for if credit should be given to such a childish,
irrational, and ridiculous statement of the foundation of Dr. Johnson's
faith in Christianity, how little credit would be due to it! Mrs. Piozzi
seems to wish that the world should think Dr. Johnson also under the in¬
fluence of that easy logic, " Stet pro ratione voluntas."
JET. 20.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
41
conversion, have, in some cases, brought a degree of ridicule
upon them ; a ridicule, of which it is inconsiderate or unfair to
make a general application.
How seriously Johnson was impressed with a sense of re¬
ligion, even in the vigour of his youth, appears from the follow¬
ing passage in his minutes kept by way of diary :—" Sept. 7.
1736. I have this day entered upon my 28th year. Mayest
thou, O God, enable me, for Jesus Christ's sake, to spend this
in such a manner, that I may receive comfort from it at the
hour of death, and in the day of judgment! Amen."
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
Shakspeare at a period so early, that the speech of the ghost
in " Hamlet" terrified him when he was alone ; that Horace'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 himself 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 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 conclude, 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 absolutely 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 sub¬
ject, once observed to me, that "Johnson knew more books
42
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1729.
than any man alive." He had a peculiar facility in seizing at
once what was valuable in any book, without submitting to
the labour 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 apprehen¬
sion arising from novelty made him write his first exercise at
college twice over; but he never took that trouble with any
other composition; and we shall see that his most excellent
works were struck off at a heat, with rapid exertion.1
Yet he appears, from his early notes or memorandums in
my possession, to have at various times attempted, or at least
planned, a methodical course of study, according to computa¬
tion, of which he was all his life fond, as it fixed his attention
steadily upon something without, and prevented his mind from
preying upon itself. Thus I find in his handwriting the num¬
ber of lines in each of two of Euripides's " Tragedies," of the
" Georgics" of Virgil, of the first six books of the "yEneid," of
Horace's "Art of Poetry," of three of the books of Ovid's
" Metamorphoses," of some parts of Theocritus, and of the tenth
Satire of Juvenal; and a table, showing at the rate of various
numbers a day (I suppose, verses to be read), what would
be, in each case, the total amount in a week, month, and year.
No man had a more ardent love of literature, or a higher
respect for it, than Johnson. His apartment in Pembroke
College was that upon the second floor over the gateway. The
enthusiast of learning will ever contemplate it with veneration.
One day, while he was sitting in it quite alone, Ur. Panting,2
then master of the College, whom he called "a fine Jacobite
fellow," overheard him uttering this soliloquy in his strong
emphatic voice "Well, I have a mind to see what is done in
other places of learning. I'll go and visit the universities
abroad. I'll go to France and Italy. I'll go to Padua. And
1 He told Dr. Burney 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.—Malone.
2 Dr. Matthew Panting died 12th Feb. 1739.—Croker.
JET. 20.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
43
I'll mind my business. For an Athenian blockhead is the
worst of all blockheads."1
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 striking 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 disease.
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 honour of the present venerable master of that
college, the Reverend William Adams, D.D., who was then
very young,2 and one of the junior fellows, that the mild but
judicious expostulations of this worthy man, whose virtue awed
him, and whose learning he revered, made him really ashamed
of himself, ' 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 re¬
bellion against the college discipline, which in his maturer
years he so much extolled."3
1 I had this anecdote from Dr. Adams, and Dr. Johnson confirmed it.
Bramston, in his Man of Taste, has the same thought : —
" Sure of all blockheads scholars are the worst."
2 Dr. Adams was about two years older than Johnson, having been born
in 1707. He became a Fellow of Pembroke in 1723, D.D. in 1756, and
Master of the College in 1775.—Croker.
3 There are preserved, in Pembroke College, some of these themes, or
exercises, both in prose and verse : the following, though the two first
44
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1731.
He very early began to attempt keeping notes or memo¬
randums, by way of a diary of his life. I find, in a parcel of
loose leaves, the following spirited resolution to contend
against his natural indolence: " Oct. 1729. Desidicz valedixi ;
syrenis istius cantibus surdam posthac aurem obversurus. I bid
farewell to Sloth, being resolved henceforth not to listen to her
syren strains." I have also in my possession a few leaves of
another Libellus, or little book, entitled Annales, in which
some of the early particulars of his history are registered in
Latin.
I do not find that he formed any close intimacies with his
fellow-collegians. But Dr. Adams told me, that he contracted
a love and regard for Pembroke College, which he retained to
the last. A short time before his death he sent to that college
a present of all his works,1 to be deposited in their library ;
lines are awkward, has more point and pleasantry than his epigrams
usually have. It may be surmised that the college beer was at this time
indifferent:—
" Me a nec Falernce
Temperant vites, neque Formiani
Pocida colles—Hor. Od. 1, 20, 10.
" Quid mirum Maro quod digne canit arma virumque,
Quid quod putidulum nostra Camasna sonat ?
Limosum nobis Promus dat callidus haustum ;
Virgilio vires uva Falerna dedit.
Carmina vis nostri scribant meliora Poetse ?
Ingenium jubeas purior haustus alat!"
Another is in a graver and better style :—
" Adjecere bonce paido plus artis A thena?
Hor. Epist. ii. 2, 43.
" Quas Natura dedit dotes, Academia promi ;
Dat menti propriis Musa nitere bonis.
Materiam statuas sic praebet marmora tellus,
Saxea Phidiaca spirat imago manu."
Johnson repeated this idea in the Latin verses on the termination of his
Dictionary, entitled rNi2©x ieatton, but not, as I think, so elegantly as in
the epigram.—Croker.
1 Certainly, not allj and those which we have are not all marked as
presented by him.—Hall.
J£T. 22. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 45
and he had thoughts of leaving to it his house at Lichfield ;
but his friends who were about him very properly dissuaded
him from it, and he bequeathed it to some poor relations. He
took a pleasure in boasting of the many eminent men who had
been educated at Pembroke. In this list are found the names
of Mr. Hawkins the Poetry Professor, Mr. Shenstone, Sir
William Blackstone, and others,1 not forgetting the celebrated
popular preacher, Mr. George Whitefield, of whom, though Dr.
Johnson did not think very highly, it must be acknowledged
that his eloquence was powerful, his views pious and charitable,
his assiduity almost incredible ; and that, since his death, the
integrity of his character has been fully vindicated. Being
himself a poet, Johnson was peculiarly happy in mentioning
how many of the sons of Pembroke were poets ; adding, with
a smile of sportive triumph, " Sir, we are a nest of singing-
birds."
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
1 See Nash's History of Worcestershire, vol. i., p. 529.
46
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I73I-
at his door, he threw them away with indignation. How must
we feel when we read such an anecdote of Samuel Johnson !
His spirited refusal of an eleemosynary supply of shoes
arose, no doubt, from a proper pride. But, considering his
ascetic disposition at times, as acknowledged by himself in
his " Meditations," and the exaggeration with which some have
treated the peculiarities of his character, I should not wonder to
hear it ascribed to a principle of superstitious mortification; as
we are told by Tursellinus, in his " Life of St. Ignatius Loyola,"
that this intrepid founder of the order of Jesuits, when he
arrived at Goa, after having made a severe pilgrimage through
the eastern deserts, persisted in wearing his miserable shattered
shoes, and when new ones were offered him, rejected them as
an unsuitable indulgence.
The res angusta domi prevented him from having the advan¬
tage 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 re¬
mittances from Lichfield, which had all along been 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, with¬
out a degree, having been a member of it little more than
three years.1
Dr. Adams, the worthy and respectable master of Pembroke
College, has generally had the reputation of being Johnson's
tutor. The fact, however, is, that in 1731, Mr. Jorden quitted
the college, and his pupils were transferred to Dr. Adams ; so
that had Johnson returned, Dr. Adams would have been his tutor.
It is to be wished, that this connection had taken place. His
equal temper, mild disposition, and politeness of manners,
might have insensibly softened the harshness of Johnson, and
infused into him those more delicate charities, those petites
morales, in which, it must be confessed, our great moralist was
more deficient than his best friends could fully justify. Dr.
1 See Appendix to this volume on Johnson's residence at Oxford.—
Editor.
JET. 22. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 47
Adams paid Johnson this high compliment. He said to me at
Oxford, in 1776, " I was his nominal tutor; but he was above
my mark." When I repeated it to Johnson, his eyes flashed
with grateful satisfaction, and he exclaimed, " That was liberal
and noble."
And now (I had almost said poor1) Samuel Johnson re¬
turned to his native city, 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 2; 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, Julii 15. Undecim aureos deposui, quo die quicqitid
ante matris funiis {quod serum sit precor) de patemis bonis
sperari licet, viginti scilicet libras, accepi. Usque adeo mild
fortuna fingenda est. Interea, 11 epaupertate vires animi langues-
cant, nec in flagitia egestas abigat, cavendum. I layed 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. Meanwhile, 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."
1 " Upon his leaving the University he went home to the house of his
father, which he found so nearly filled with relations, that is to say, the
maiden sisters of his mother and uncle Cornelius Ford, whom his father,
on the decease of their brother in the summer of 1731, had taken in to
board, that it would scarce receive him." Hawkins's Life of Johnson,
p. 19.—Editor.
2 His father, either during his continuance there, or possibly before, had
been by misfortunes rendered insolvent, if not, as Johnson told me, an
actual bankrupt. Hawkins, Life, p. 17.
Amongst the MSS. of Pembroke College are some letters which state
that his widow was left in great poverty.—Croker.
48
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
17 31.
Johnson was so far fortunate, that the respectable character
of his parents, and his own merit, had, from his earliest years,
secured him a kind reception in the best families at Lichfield.
Among these I can mention Mr. Howard,1 Dr. Swinfen, Mr.
Simpson, Mr. Levett,2 Captain Garrick, father of the great
ornament of the British stage; but above all, Mr. Gilbert
Walmsley,3 Registrar of the Ecclesiastical Court of Lichfield,
whose character, long after his decease, Dr. Johnson has, in
his life of Edmund Smith [1779], thus drawn in the glowing
colours of gratitude :—•
" Of Gilbert Walmsley, thus presented to my mind, let me indulge
myself in the remembrance. I knew him very early; he was one of
the first friends that literature procured me, and I hope, that at least
my gratitude made me worthy of his notice.
" He was of an advanced age, and I was only yet a boy, yet
he never received my notions with contempt. He was a Whig,
with all the virulence and malevolence of his party; yet difference
of opinion did not keep us apart. I honoured him and he endured
me.
" He had mingled with the gay world without exemption from
its vices or its follies; but had never neglected the cultivation
of his mind. His belief of revelation was unshaken; his learning
preserved his principles; he grew first regular, and then pious.
" His studies had been so various, that I am not able to name a
'V[r. Howard was a proctor in the Ecclesiastical Court, and resided in
the Close.—Croker.
2 Mr. Levett was a gentleman of fortune in this neighbourhood, and
must not be confounded with the humble friend of the same name, to whom
Johnson was so charitable in after life.—Croker.
3 Mr. Warton informs me that this early friend of Johnson was entered
a Commoner of Trinity College, Oxford., aged 17, in 1698 ; and is the
author of many Latin verse translations in The Gentleman's Magazine.
One of them [vol. xv., p. 102] is a translation of My time, O ye Muses,
was happily spent, &c. He died August 3rd, 1751, and a monument to
his memory has been erected in the cathedral of Lichfield, with an inscrip¬
tion written by Mr. Seward, one of the prebendaries.
He was the son of W. Walmsley, LL.D., chancellor of the diocese, and in
1701 M.P. for the city of Lichfield, and was born in 1680; but I think Dr.
Warton was mistaken in attributing the translation of the song to him,
for, though signed " G. Walmsley," it is dated Sid. Col. Cambridge. John¬
son's friend was at that date (1745) 65 years of age.— Croker.
jET. 22.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
49
man of equal knowledge. His acquaintance with books was great,
and what he did not immediately know, he could, at least, tell
where to find. Such was his amplitude of learning, and such his
copiousness of communication, that it may be doubted whether a day
now passes in which I have not some advantage from his friendship.
"At this man's table I enjoyed many cheerful and instructive
hours, with companions such as are not often found—with one who
has lengthened, and one who has gladdened life; with Dr. James,
whose skill in physic will be long remembered; and with David
Garrick, whom I hoped to have gratified with this character of our
common friend. But what are the hopes of man ? I am disappointed
by that stroke of death which has eclipsed the gaiety of nations, and
impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasure."
In these families he passed much time in his early years.
In most of them, he was in the company of ladies, particularly
at Mr. Walmsley's, whose wife and sisters-in-law, of the name
of Aston, and daughters of a baronet, were remarkable for
good breeding; so that the notion which has been industriously
circulated and believed, that he never was in good company
till late in life, and, consequently, had been confirmed in coarse
and ferocious manners by long habits, is wholly without founda¬
tion. Some of the ladies have assured me, they recollected
him well when a young man, as distinguished for his com¬
plaisance.
And that his politeness was not merely occasional and
temporary, or confined to the circles of Lichfield, is ascertained
by the testimony of a lady, who, in a paper with which I have
been favoured by a daughter of his intimate friend and phy¬
sician, Dr. Lawrence, thus describes Dr. Johnson some years
afterwards :—
"As the particulars of the former part of Dr. Johnson's life do
not seem to be very accurately known, a lady hopes that the follow¬
ing information may not be unacceptable.
"She remembers Dr. Johnson on a visit to Dr. Taylor, at Ash-
bourn,1 some time between the end of the year 37, and the middle
1 Taylor's residence at Ashbourn was patrimonial and not ecclesiastical;
E
50
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1732.
of the year 40; she rather thinks it to have been after he and his
wife removed to London. During his stay at Ashbourn, he made
frequent visits to Mr. Meynell, at Bradley, where his company was
much desired by the ladies of the family, who were, perhaps, in
point of elegance and accomplishments, inferior to few of those with
whom he was afterwards acquainted. Mr. Meynell's eldest daughter
was afterwards married to Mr. Fitzherbert, father to Mr. Alleyne
Fitzherbert, lately minister to the court of Russia. Of her, Dr.
Johnson said in Dr. Lawrence's study, that she had the best under¬
standing he ever met with in any human being. At Mr. Meynell's he
also commenced that friendship with Mrs. Hill Boothby,1 sister to
the present Sir Brook Boothby, which continued till her death, The
young woman whom he used to call Molly Aston,2 was sister to Sir
Thomas Aston,3 and daughter to a baronet; she was also sister to
the wife of his friend, Mr. Gilbert Walmsley. Besides his intimacy
with the above-mentioned persons, who were surely people of rank
and education, while he was yet at Lichfield he used to be frequently
at the house of Dr. Swinfen, a gentleman of very ancient family in
Staffordshire, from which, after the death of his elder brother, he in¬
herited a good estate. He was, besides, a physician of very extensive
practice; but for want of due attention to the management of his
domestic concerns, left a very large family in indigence. One of his
daughters, Mrs. Desmoulins, afterwards found an asylum in the house
of her old friend, whose doors were always open to the unfortunate,
and the house and grounds, which Johnson's visits have rendered re¬
markable, passed into the possession of Mr. Webster, Taylor's legatee.—
Croker.
1 Miss Boothby was born Oct. 27, 1708, and died Jan. 16, 1756. For
the last three years of her life this lady maintained a correspondence with
Dr. Johnson. The letters which passed between them "were all num¬
bered and labelled by himself, and are bound together in a thin quarto
volume they were published in 1805 by Richard Wright, surgeon, toge¬
ther with "the Annals" of Johnson's early life.—Editor.
2 The words of Sir John Hawkins, p. 316.
3 Sir Thomas Aston, Bart., who died in January, 1724-5, left one son,
named Thomas also, and eight daughters. Of the daughters, Catherine
married Johnson's friend, the Hon. Henry Hervey ; Margaret, Gilbert
Walmsley. Another of these ladies [Jane] married the Rev. Mr. Gastrell
[the man who cut down Shakespeare's mulberry tree]; Mary, or Molly
Aston, as she was usually called, became the wife of Captain Brodie of
the navy. Another sister, who was unmarried, was living at Lichfield in
1776.—Malo7ie.
^ET. 23. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 51
and who well observed the precept of the Gospel, for he ' was kind to
the unthankful and to the evil.'"
In the forlorn state of his circumstances, he accepted of an
offer to be employed as usher, in the school of Market-Bos-
worth, in Leicestershire, to which it appears, from one of his
little fragments of a diary, that he went on foot, on the 16th
of July,—" Julii 16. Bosvortiam pedes petti!' But it is not
true, as has been erroneously related, that he was assistant to
the famous Anthony Blackwall, whose merit has been honoured
by the testimony of Bishop Hurd,1 who was his scholar ; for
Mr. Blackwall died on the 8th of April; 1730, more than a year
before Johnson left the University.2
This employment was very irksome to him in every respect,
and he complained grievously of it in his letters to his friend
Mr. Hector, who was now settled as a surgeon at Birmingham.
The letters are lost; but Mr. Hector recollects his writing
" that the poet had described the dull sameness of his existence
in these words, ' Vitam continet una dies' (one day contains
the whole of my life); that it was unvaried as the note of the
cuckoo ; and that he did not know whether it was more dis¬
agreeable for him to teach, or the boys to learn, the grammar
rules." His general aversion to this painful drudgery was
greatly enhanced by a disagreement between him and Sir
Wolstan Dixie, the patron of the school, in whose house, I
have been told, he officiated as a kind of domestic chaplain, so
far, at least, as to say grace at table, but was treated with what
he represented as intolerable harshness; and, after suffering
for a few months such complicated misery, he relinquished a
situation which all his life afterwards he recollected with the
strongest aversion, and even a degree of horror. But it is
probable that at this period, whatever uneasiness he may have
1 There is here (as Mr. James Boswell observes to me) a slight inaccu¬
racy. Bishop Hurd in the Epistle Dedicatory prefixed to his " Commen¬
tary on Horace's Art of Poetry," &c., does not praise Blackwall, but the
Rev. Mr. Budworth, head-master of the Grammar School at Brewood, in
Staffordshire, who had himself been bred under Blackwall.—Malone.
2 See Gent. Mag., Dec., 1784, p. 957.
52
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I735-
endured, he laid the foundation of much future eminence by
application to his studies.
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
periodical essay, printed in the newspaper of which Warren
was proprietor. After very diligent inquiry, 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,1
finding himself as well situated at Birmingham as he sup¬
posed he could be any where, 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 schoolfellow and
intimate friend, was Johnson's chief inducement to continue
here.
In what manner he employed his pen at this period, or
whether he derived from it any pecuniary advantage, I have
not been able to ascertain. He probably got a little money
from Mr. Warren; and we are certain, that he executed here
one piece of literary labour, of which Mr. Hector has favoured
me with a minute account. Having mentioned that he had
1 Sir John Hawkins states, from one of Johnson's diaries, that, in June,
1733, he lodged in Birmingham, at the house of a person named Jervis,
probably a relation of Mrs. Porter, whom he afterwards married, and whose
maiden name was Jervis.—Malone.
jet. 26. boswell's life of johnson. 53
read at Pembroke College a "Voyage to Abyssinia," by Lobo,1
a Portuguese Jesuit, and that he thought an abridgment and
translation of it from the French into English might be an
useful and profitable publication, Mr. Warren and Mr. Hector
joined in urging him to undertake it. He accordingly agreed ;
and the book not being to be found in Birmingham, he bor¬
rowed it of Pembroke College. A part of the work being very
soon done, one Osborn, who was Mr. Warren's printer, was set
to work with what was ready, and J ohnson engaged to supply
the press with copy as it should be wanted ; but his con¬
stitutional indolence soon prevailed, and the work was at a
stand. Mr. Hector, who knew that a motive of humanity
would be the most prevailing argument with his friend, went
to Johnson, and represented to him that the printer could
have no other employment till this undertaking was finished,
and that the poor man and his family were suffering. Johnson,
upon this, exerted the powers of his mind, though his body
was relaxed. He lay in bed with the book, which was a quarto,
before him, and dictated while Hector wrote. Mr. Hector car¬
ried the sheets to the press, and corrected almost all the proof
sheets, very few of which were even seen by Johnson. In this
manner, with the aid of Mr. Hector's active friendship, the
book was completed, and was published in 1735, with London
upon the title-page, though it was in reality printed at Birming¬
ham, a device too common with provincial publishers. For
this work he had from Mr. Warren only the sum of five
guineas.
This being the first prose work of Johnson, it is a curious
object of inquiry how much may be traced in it of that style
1 Father Jerome Lobo was born at Lisbon, about 1595, and died in
1678. At the early age of fifteen he entered the order of Jesuits, and was
sent as a missionary to the Indies. In his voyage thither he was wrecked,and
after many dangers escaped to Goa, and thence began his famous voyage
and expedition to Abyssinia. The result of his observations and experience
he published under the title: Historia de Ethiopia, in folio. Coimbra,
1659. A French translation of this appeared in folio, Paris, 1674; and from
this an abridgment was made by Abb£ Le Grand. Paris, 1728. This
was the book which Johnson translated.—Didot's Biog. Gener.—Editor.
54
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1735.
which marks his subsequent writings with such peculiar excel¬
lence ; with so happy an union of force, vivacity, and per¬
spicuity. I have perused the book with this view, and have
found that here, as I believe in every other translation, there
is in the work itself no vestige of the translator's own style ;
for the language of translation being adapted to the thoughts
of another person, insensibly follows their cast, and, as it were,
runs into a mould that is ready prepared.
Thus, for instance, taking the first sentence that occurs at
the opening of the book, p. 4:—
" I lived here above a year, and completed my studies in divinity ;
in which time some letters were received from the fathers of Ethiopia,
with an account that Sultan Segned, Emperor of Abyssinia, was con¬
verted to the church of Rome; that many of his subjects had fol¬
lowed his example, and that there was a great want of missionaries to
improve these prosperous beginnings. Every body was very desirous
of seconding the zeal of our fathers, and of sending them the assist¬
ance they requested; to which we were the more encouraged, be¬
cause the Emperor's letter informed our Provincial, that we might
easily enter his dominions by the way of Dancala; but, unhappily,
the secretary wrote Zeila for Dancala, which cost two of our fathers
their lives."
Every one acquainted with Johnson's manner will be sensible
that there is nothing of it here; but that this sentence might
have been composed by any other man. But, in the Preface
the Johnsonian style begins to appear ; and though use had
not yet taught his wing a permanent and equable flight, there
are parts of it which exhibit his best manner in full vigour. I
had once the pleasure of examining it with Mr. Edmund Burke,
who confirmed me in this opinion, by his superior critical
sagacity, and was, I remember, much delighted with the fol¬
lowing specimen :—
"The Portuguese traveller, contrary to the general vein of his
countrymen, has amused his reader with no romantic absurdities" or
incredible fictions; whatever he relates, whether true or not, is at least
probable; and he who tells nothing exceeding the bounds of proba-
JET. 26.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
55
bility, has a right to demand that they should believe him who can¬
not contradict him.
" He appears, by his modest and unaffected narration, to have de¬
scribed things as he saw them, to have copied nature from the life,
and to have consulted his senses, not his imagination. He meets
with no basilisks that destroy with their eyes, his crocodiles devour
their prey without tears, and his cataracts fall from the rocks without
deafening the neighbouring inhabitants.
"The reader will here find no regions cursed with irremediable
barrenness, or blest with spontaneous fecundity; no perpetual gloom,
or unceasing sunshine; nor are the nations here described either de¬
void of all sense of humanity, or consummate in all private and social
virtues; here are no Hottentots without religion, polity or articulate
language; no Chinese perfectly polite, and completely skilled in all
sciences; he will discover, what will always be discovered by a dili¬
gent and impartial inquirer, that wherever human nature is to be
found, there is a mixture of vice and virtue, a contest of passion and
reason; and that the Creator doth not appear partial in his distribu¬
tions, but has balanced, in most countries, their particular incon¬
veniences by particular favours."
Here we have an early example of that brilliant and ener¬
getic expression, which, upon innumerable occasions in his
subsequent life, justly impressed the world with the highest
admiration. Nor can any one, conversant with the writings of
Johnson, fail to discern his hand in this passage of the Dedi¬
cation to John Warren, Esq., of Pembrokeshire, though it is
ascribed to Warren the bookseller :—
" A generous and elevated mind is distinguished by nothing more
certainly than an eminent degree of curiosity;1 nor is that curiosity
• ever more agreeably or usefully employed, than in examining the laws
and customs of foreign nations. I hope, therefore, the present I now
presume to make will not be thought improper; which, however, it
is not my business as a dedicator to commend, nor as a bookseller
to depreciate."
It is reasonable to suppose, that his having been thus acci¬
dentally led to a particular study of the history and manners
1 See Rambler, No. 103. [" Curiosity is the thirst of the soul," &c.]
56
boswell's life of johnson.
I735-
of Abyssinia, was the remote occasion of his writing, many-
years afterwards, his admirable philosophical tale, the principal
scene of which is laid in that country.
Johnson returned to Lichfield early in 1734, and in August
that year he made an attempt to procure some little sub¬
sistence by his pen ; for he published proposals for printing
by subscription the Latin Poems of Politian:1 " Angeli Po-
litiani Poemala Latina, quibus, Notas, cum historia Latum
poeseos a Petrarchce <zvo ad Politiani tempora deducta, et vita
Politiani fusius quam antehac enarratd, addidit Sam. john¬
son." 2
It appears that his brother Nathaniel had taken up his
father's trade; for it is mentioned, "that subscriptions are
taken in by the Editor, or N. Johnson, bookseller, of Lich¬
field." 3 Notwithstanding the merit of Johnson, and the cheap
1 May we not trace a fanciful similarity between Politian and J ohnson ?
Huetius, speaking of Paulus Pelissonius Fontanerius, says, "—in quo
natura, ut olim in Angelo Politiano, deformitatem oris excellentis ingenii
praestantia compensavit." " Comment, de reb. ad eum pertin." Edit.
Amstel. 1718, p. 200.
In this learned masquerade of" Paulus Pelissonius Fontanerius," we have
some difficulty in detecting Madame de Sevignd's friend, Pelisson, of whom
M. de Guilleragues used the phrase, which has since grown into a proverb,
" qu'il abusait de la permission qu'ont les hommes d'etre laids."—See
Madame de Sevignd's Letter, 5 Jan., 1674. Huet, bishop of Avranche,
wrote Memoirs of his own time, in Latin, from which Boswell has extracted
this scrap of pedantry. —Croker.
2 The book was to contain more than thirty sheets, the price to be two
shillings and sixpence at the time of subscribing, and two shillings and
sixpence at the delivery of a perfect book in quires.
3 Nathaniel kept the shop as long as he lived, as did his mother, after
him, till her death. Miss Seward, who in such a matter as this may
perhaps be trusted, gives us an amiable, still life picture of Miss Porter,
and tells us, that " from the age of twenty to her fortieth year (when
she was raised to a state of competency by the death of her eldest
brother), she had boarded in Lichfield with Dr. Johnson's mother, who
still kept that little bookseller's shop by which her husband had sup¬
plied the scanty means of subsistence : meantime Lucy Porter kept the
best company in our little city, but would make no engagement on market-
days lest Granny, as she called Mrs. Johnson, should catch cold by
serving in the shop. There Lucy Porter took her place, standing behind
JET. 2 6.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
57
price at which this translation, with its accompaniments, was
offered, there were not subscribers enough to insure a sufficient
sale; so the work never appeared, and, probably, never was
executed.
We find him again this year at Birmingham, and there is
preserved the following letter from him to Mr. Edward Cave,
the original compiler and editor of the " Gentleman's Maga¬
zine." 1
TO MR. CAVE.
" Nov. 25. 1734.
"Sir,
"As you appear no less sensible than your readers of the
defects of your poetical article, you will not be displeased, if, in
order to the improvement of it, I communicate to you the sentiments
of a person who will undertake, on reasonable terms, sometimes to
fill a column.
" His opinion is, that the public would not give you a bad reception,
if, beside the current wit of your month, which a critical examina¬
tion would generally reduce to a narrow compass, you admitted not only ,
poems, inscriptions, &c. never printed before, which he will sometimes
supply you with, but likewise short literary dissertations in Latin
or English, critical remarks on authors ancient or modern, forgotten
poems that deserve revival, or loose pieces, like Floyer's,2 worth pre¬
serving. By this method, your literary article, for so it might be
the counter, nor thought it a disgrace to thank a poor person who pur¬
chased from her a penny battledoor."—Miss Seward's Letters, vol. i.,
p. 117.—Croker.
1 Miss Cave, the grand-niece of Mr. Edw. Cave, has obligingly shown
me the originals of this and the other letters of Dr. Johnson to him, which
were first published in the Gentleman's Magazine, with notes by Mr.
John Nichols, the worthy and indefatigable editor of that valuable miscel¬
lany, signed N.; some of which I shall occasionally transcribe in the
course of this work.
2 "A letter from the late Sir John Floyer, in recommendation of the
Cold Bath."—Gentleman's Magazine, 1734, p. 197.
This letter was probably sent tiy Johnson himself; who, a very short
time before his death, pressed Mr. Nichols to give to the public some
account of the life and works of Sir John Floyer, "whose learning and
piety," he said, "deserve recording."—See Literary Anecdotes, vol. v.,
p. 19.— Wright.
58
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1735-
called, will, he thinks, be better recommended to the public than by
low jests, awkward buffoonery, or the dull scurrilities of either party.
" If such a correspondence will be agreeable to you, be pleased to
inform me in two posts what the conditions are on which you shall
expect it. Your late offer1 gives me no reason to distrust your gene¬
rosity. If you engage in any literary projects besides this paper, I
have other designs to impart, if I could be secure from having others
reap the advantage of what I should hint.
" Your letter, by being directed to S. Smith, to be left at the Castle
in Birmingham, Warwickshire, will reach
" Your humble servant."
Mr. Cave has put a note on this letter, " Answered Dec. 2."
But whether anything was done in consequence of it we are not
informed.
Johnson had, from his early youth, been sensible to the in¬
fluence of female charms. When at Stourbridge school, he
was much enamoured of Olivia Lloyd, a young quaker, to
whom he wrote a copy of verses, which I have not been able
t to recover;2 but with what facility and elegance he could
warble the amorous lay, will appear from the following lines
which he wrote for his friend Mr. Edmund Hector :—
1 A prize of fifty pounds for the best poem " On Life, Death, Judgment,
Heaven, and Hell." See Gentleman's Magazine, vol. iv., p. 560.—Nichols.
2 He also wrote some amatory verses, before he left Staffordshire, which
Boswell appears not to have seen. They were addressed "to Miss Hickman,
playing on the spinet." At the back of this early poetical effusion, of which
the original copy, in Johnson's handwriting, was obligingly communicated
to me by Mr. John Taylor, is the following attestation :—" Written by the
late Dr. Samuel Johnson, on my mother, then Miss Hickman, playing on
the spinet. J. Turton." Dr. Turton, the physician, writer of this certificate,
who died in April, 1806, in his 71st year, was born in 1735. The verses
in question, therefore, which have been printed in some late editions
of Johnson's poems, must have been written before that year. Miss Hick¬
man, it is believed, was a lady of Staffordshire.—Malone.
In Notes and Queries, 5th Series, vol. i., March 28th, 1874, p. 250,
the curious in family history will find an elaborate account of the Hick-
mans, too long to be transferred to this edition as a note. From this
it appears that Dorothy Hickman (born Feb. 13th, 1713, died Dec. 9th,
1744), who was married, Nov. 13th, 1734, to John Turton, was a relative
of Johnson, being the daughter of his first cousin, Gregory Hickman.
The Dr. Turton of Malone's note was a son of this marriage.—Editor.
JET. 2 6.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
59
VERSES TO A LADY, ON RECEIVING FROM HER A SPRIG OF MYRTLE.
" What hopes, what terrors does thy gift create,
Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate !
The myrtle, ensign of supreme command,
Consign'd by Venus to Melissa's hand ;
Not less capricious than a reigning fair,
Now grants, and now rejects, a lover's prayer.
In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain,
In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain;
The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads,
The unhappy lover's grave the myrtle spreads :
Oh then the meaning of thy gift impart,
And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart!
Soon must this bough, as you shall fix his doom,
Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb." 1
1 Mrs. Piozzi gives the following account of this little composition from
Dr. Johnson's own relation to her, on her enquiring whether it was rightly
attributed to him :—" I think it is now just forty years ago, that a young
fellow had a sprig of myrtle given him by a girl he courted, and asked me
to write him some verses that he might present her in return. I promised,
but forgot; and when he called for his lines at the time agreed on,—'Sit
still a moment,' says 1,1 dear Mund, and I'll fetch them thee'—so stepped
aside for five minutes, and wrote the nonsense you now keep such a stir
about."—Anecdotes, p. 34.
In my first edition I was induced to doubt the authenticity of this account,
by the following circumstantial statement in a letter to me from Miss
Seward, of Lichfield :—" I know those verses were addressed to Lucy
Porter, when he was enamoured of her in his boyish days, two or three
years before he had seen her mother, his future wife. He wrote them at
my grandfather's [Mr. Hunter, the schoolmaster], and gave them to Lucy
in the presence of my mother, to whom he showed them on the instant.
She used to repeat them to me, when I asked her, for the Verses Dr. John¬
son gave her on a* Sprig of Myrtle, which he had stolen or begged from
her bosom. We all know honest Lucy Porter to have been incapable of
the mean vanity of applying to herself a compliment not intended for her."
Such was Miss Seward's statement, which I make no doubt she supposed
to be correct; but it shows how dangerous it is to trust too implicitly to
traditional testimony and ingenious inference ; for Mr. Hector has lately
assured me that Mrs. Piozzi's account is, in this instance, accurate, and that
he was the person for whom Johnson wrote those verses, which have been
erroneously ascribed to Mr. Hammond.
I am obliged, in so many instances, to notice Mrs. Piozzi's incorrectness
6o
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1735-
His juvenile attachments to the fair sex were, however, very-
transient ; and it is certain, that he formed no criminal con¬
nection whatsoever. Mr. Hector, who lived with him in his
younger days in the utmost intimacy and social freedom, has
assured me, that even at that ardent season his conduct was
strictly virtuous in that respect; and that, though he loved to
exhilarate himself with wine, he never knew him intoxicated
but once.1
of relation, that I gladly seize this opportunity of acknowledging, that how¬
ever often, she is not always, inaccurate.
The author having been drawn into a controversy with Miss Anna
Seward, in consequence of the preceding statement (which maybe found
in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxiii. and lxiv.), received the following
letter from Mr. Edmund Hector on the subject:
" Dear Sir,—I am sorry to see you are engaged in altercation with a
lady, who seems unwilling to be convinced of her errors. Surely it would
be more ingenuous to acknowledge than to persevere.
" Lately, in looking over some papers I meant to burn, I found the
original manuscript of the ' Myrtle,' with the date on it, 1731, which I have
enclosed.
" The true history (which I could swear to) is as follows : Mr. Morgan
Graves, the elder brother of a worthy clergyman near Bath [the Rev.
Richard Graves, author of the 'Spiritual Quixote,'] with whom I was ac¬
quainted, waited upon a lady in this neighbourhood, who, at parting, pre¬
sented him the branch. He showed it me, and wished much to return the
compliment in verse. I applied to Johnson, who was with me, and in
about half-an-hour dictated the verses, which I sent to my friend. I most
solemnly declare, at that time, Johnson was an entire stranger to the Porter
family ; and it was almost two years after, that I introduced him to the
acquaintance of Porter, whom I bought my clothes of.
" If you intend to convince this obstinate woman, and to exhibit to the
public the truth of your narrative, you are at liberty to make what use you
please of this statement.
" I hope you will pardon me for taking up so much of your time. Wish¬
ing you multoset felices annos, I shall subscribe myself your obliged humble
servant, E. Hector. Birmingham, Jan. 9. 1794."
The portion of this long note, beginning : " The author having been
drawn," &c.,was added by Boswell in the third edition, vol. i., p. 66.—Editor.
1 In 1735 Mr. Walmsley endeavoured to procure Johnson the master¬
ship of the grammar-school at Solihull, in Warwickshire. This and the
cause of failure appear by the following curious letter, addressed to Mr.
Walmsley, and preserved in the records of Pembroke College :—
" Solihull, y* 30 August, 1735. Sir,—I was favoured with yours of ye
^et. 26.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
61
- In a man whom religious education has secured from licen¬
tious indulgences, the passion of love, when once it has seized
him, is exceedingly strong; being unimpaired by dissipation,
and totally concentrated in one object. This was experienced
by Johnson, when he became the fervent admirer of Mrs.
Porter, after her first husband's death. Miss Porter told me,
that when he was first introduced to her mother, his appear¬
ance 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 be¬
hind ; and he often had, seemingly, convulsive starts and odd
gesticulations, which tended to excite at once surprise and
ridicule.1 Mrs. Porter was so much engaged by his conversa¬
tion, 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,2 and
13th inst. in due time, but deferred answering it til now, it takeing up
some time to informe the ffceofees [of the school] of the contents thereof;
and before they would return an Answer, desired some time to make en¬
quiry of ye caracter of Mr. Johnson, who all agree that he is an excellent
scholar, and upon that account deserves much better than to be school¬
master of Solihull. But then he has the caracter of being a very haughty, ill-
natured gent., and yl he has such a way of distorting his fface (wh though
he can't help) ye gent, think it may affect some young ladds ; for these two
reasons he is not approved on, ye late master Mr. Crompton's huffing the
ffceofees being stil in their memory. However we are all exstreamly obliged
to you for thinking of us, and for proposeing so good a schollar, but
more especially is, dear sir, your very humble servant,
" Henry Greswold."— Croker.
1 Johnson's countenance, when in a good humour, was not disagree¬
able : his face clear, his complexion good, and his features not ill-formed,
many ladies have thought they might not be unattractive when he was
young. Much misrepresentation has prevailed on this subject.—Percy.
2 Mrs. Johnson's maiden name was Jervis. Though, having only com¬
pleted her forty-eighth year in the month of February preceding her
marriage, there was a great disparity of years between her and Dr. John¬
son, she was not quite so old as she is here represented, as appears by the
following extract from the parish register of Great Peatling, in Leicester¬
shire, which was obligingly made at my request by the Hon. and Rev. Mr.
62
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1735-
her person and manner, as described to me by the late Mr.
Garrick, were by no means pleasing to others,1 she must have
had a superiority of understanding and talents, as she certainly
inspired him with 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
Ryder, Rector of Lutterworth, in that county : " Anno Dom. 1688-9.
Elizabeth, the daughter of William Jervis, Esq. and Mrs. Anne his wife,
was born the 4th day of February and manS, baptized 16th day of the same
month, by Mr. Smith, Curate of Little Peatling. John Allen, Vicar."
The family of Jervis, Mr. Ryder informs me, once possessed nearly the
whole lordship of Great Peatling (about 2,000 acres), and there are many
monuments of them in the church ; but the estate is now much reduced.
The present representative of this family is Mr. Charles Jervis, of Hinckley,
attorney-at-law.—Malone.
1 That in Johnson's eyes she was handsome, appears from the epitaph
which he caused to be inscribed on her tombstone, not long before his own
death, and which will be found in a subsequent page, under the year
1752.—Malone.
The following account of Mrs. Johnson, and her family, is copied from a
paper, written by Lady Knight, at Rome, and transmitted by her to John
Hoole, Esq., the translator of Metastasio, by whom it was inserted in the
" European Magazine " for October, 1799:—
" Mrs. Williams's account of Mrs. Johnson was, that she had a good
understanding, and great sensibility, but inclined to be satirical. Her first
husband died insolvent: her sons were much disgusted with her for
her second marriage, perhaps because they, being struggling to get ad¬
vanced in life, were mortified to think she had allied herself to a man who
had not any visible means of being useful to them ; however, she always
retained her affection for them. While they [Dr. and Mrs. Johnson] re¬
sided in Gough Square, her son, the officer, knocked at the door, and asked
the maid if her mistress was at home. She answered, ' Yes, sir, but she is
sick in bed.'—' Oh,' says he, ' if it's so, tell her that her son Jervis called
to know how she didand was going away. The maid begged she might
run up to tell her mistress, and, without attending his answer, left him.
Mrs. Johnson, enraptured to hear her son was below, desired the maid to
tell him she longed to embrace him. When the maid descended the gentle¬
man was gone, and poor Mrs. Johnson was much agitated by the adven¬
ture ; it was the only time he ever made an effort to see her. Dr. Johnson
did all he could to console his wife, but told Mrs. Williams,' Her son is
uniformly undutiful; so I conclude, like many other sober men, he might
once in his life be drunk, and in that fit nature got the better of his pride.'"
—Malone.
jET. 26. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
63
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 ardour of her
son's temper, and was too tender a parent to oppose his incli¬
nations.
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,1 for which place the bride and bridegroom
set out on horseback, I suppose in very good humour. But
though Mr. Topham Beauclerk used archly to mention John¬
son's having told him, with much gravity, " Sir, it was a love-
marriage on both sides," I have had from my illustrious friend
the following curious account of their journey to church upon
the nuptial morn [9th July]:—"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 complained 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
1 Extract from the parish register of the church of S. Werburgh, in
Derby:—"July 9. 1735. Mard. Samuel Johnson of the Parish of Sl
Mary in Lichfield and Elizth Porter of the Parish of Sl Philip in Birming¬
ham."
The editor has much pleasure in referring readers to an excellent
article in the Cornhill Magazine, for November, 1880, by Dr. Birkbeck
Hill, a good Johnsonian scholar, on the marriage of Johnson.
64
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
evidence that his regard and fondness for her never ceased even
after her death.1
He now set up a private academy, for which purpose he hired
a large house, well situated near his native city.2 In the " Gen¬
tleman's Magazine " for 1736 there is the following advertise¬
ment :
"^4/Edial, near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, young gentlemen areboarded
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,3 a young gentleman of good fortune, who died early.
As yet, his name had nothing of that celebrity which after¬
wards commanded the highest attention and respect of mankind.
Had such an advertisement 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,
1 For instance :— " Wednesday, March 28. 1770.
"This is the day [17th, O.S.] on which, in 1752, I was deprived of poor
dearTetty. Having left off the practice of thinking on her with some
particular combinations, I have recalled her to my mind of late less fre¬
quently ; but when I recollect the time in which we lived together, my
grief for her departure is not abated ; and I have less pleasure in any good
that befalls me, because she does not partake it. On many occasions, I
think what she would have said or done. When I saw the sea at Bright-
helmstone, I wished for her to have seen it with me. But, with respect
to her, no rational wish is now left, but that we may meet at last where
the mercy of God shall make us happy, and perhaps make us instrumental
to the happiness of each other. It is now eighteen years."—Prayers
and Meditations, pp. 90, 91.—Croker.
2 The Rev. John G. Lonsdale, Canon of Lichfield, writes to me, that
the house at Edial stands (1880) as it did in Johnson's days and has been
very little altered—externally hardly at all.—Editor.
3 The Memoirs mentions Dr. Hawkesworth as one of his pupils, and
seems to imply (as, indeed, does Mr. Garrick's subsequent testimony) that
there were more.—Croker.
The- Jf0sirf.enf.e- af Dr Samuel John-stm in 2736.
iET. 27.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
65
as men of inferior powers of mind. His own acquisitions had
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 themselves to
this employment, and do their duty with diligence and success,
are entitled to very high respect from the community, 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.
While we acknowledge the justness of Thomson's beautiful
remark,
" Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot!"
we must consider that this delight is perceptible only by " a
mind at ease," a mind at once calm and clear; but that a mind
gloomy and impetuous, like that of Johnson, cannot be fixed
for any length of time in minute attention, and must be so fre¬
quently irritated by unavoidable slowness and error in the ad¬
vances of scholars, as to perform the duty, with little pleasure
to the teacher, and no great advantage to the pupils. Good
temper is a most essential requisite in a preceptor. Horace
paints the character as bland:
" ut pueris olim dant crustula blandi
Doctores, elementa velint ut discere prima."1
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 ac¬
count, 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
1 Sat. i. 1. 25.
F
66
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
of his bedchamber, 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 Tetsey, which, like Betty or Betsey, 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 protu¬
berance, with swelled cheeks, of a florid red, produced by thick
painting, and increased by the liberal use of cordials; flaring
and fantastic in her dress, and affected both in her speech and
her general behaviour.1 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
representations, considerably aggravated the picture.
That Johnson well knew the most proper course to be pur¬
sued in the instruction of youth is authentically ascertained by
the following paper2 in his own handwriting, given about this
period to a relation, and now in the possession of Mr. John
Nichols :
"scheme for the classes of a grammar school.
" When the introduction, or formation of nouns and verbs, is per¬
fectly mastered, let them learn
" Corderius by Mr. Clarke, beginning at the same time to translate
out of the introduction, that by this means they may learn the syntax.
Then let them proceed to Erasmus, with an English translation, by
the same author.
" Class II. learns Eutropius and Cornelius Nepos, or Justin, with
the translation.
" N.B. The first class gets for their part every morning the rules
which they have learnt before, and in the afternoon learns the Latin
1 As Johnson kept Garrick much in awe when present, David, when his
back was turned, repaid the restraint with ridicule of him and his dulcinea,
which should be read with great abatement.—Percy.
2 Mr. Croker is probably right in regarding this paper as setting forth
two schemes, the one for a school, the other to direct the studies of some
young friend ; and also in considering that Boswell exaggerated its im¬
portance.—Editor.
JET. 27.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
67
rules of the nouns and verbs. They are examined in the rules which
they have learnt, every Thursday and Saturday.
"The second class does the same whilst they are in Eutropius;
afterwards their part is in the irregular nouns and verbs, and in the
rules for making and scanning verses. They are examined as the
first.
" Class III. Ovid's Metamorphoses in the morning, and Caesar's
Commentaries in the afternoon.
" Practice in the Latin rules till they are perfect in them; after¬
wards in Mr. Leeds's Greek Grammar. Examined as before. After¬
wards they proceed to Virgil, beginning at the same time to write
themes and verses, and to learn Greek; from thence passing on to
Horace, &c., as shall seem most proper.
" I know not well what books to direct you to, because you have
not informed me what study you will apply yourself to. I believe it
will be most for your advantage to apply yourself wholly to the lan¬
guages, till you go to the university. The Greek authors I think it
best for you to read are these :—
" Thus you will be tolerably skilled in all the dialects, beginning
with the Attic, to which the rest must be referred.
" In the study of Latin, it is proper not to read the latter authors,
till you are well versed in those of the purest ages; as Terence, Tully,
Caesar, Sallust, Nepos, Velleius Paterculus, Virgil, Horace, Phaedrus.
" The greatest and most necessary task still remains, to attain a
habit of expression, without which knowledge is of little use. This is
necessary in Latin, and more necessary in English; and can only be
acquired by a daily imitation of the best and correctest authors.
While Johnson kept his academy, there can be no doubt
that he was insensibly furnishing his mind with various know¬
ledge ; but I have not discovered that he wrote anything
Cebes.
^Elian.
Lucian, by Leeds.
Xenophon.
Homer.
Theocritus.
Euripides.
Ionic.
Doric.
Attic and Doric.
"Sam. Johnson."
68
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
except a great part of his tragedy of " Irene." Mr. Peter
Garrick, the elder brother of David, told me that he remem¬
bered Johnson's borrowing the Turkish History1 of him, in
order to form his play from it. When he had finished some
part of it, he read what he had done to Mr. Walmsley, who
objected to his having already brought his heroine into great
distress, and asked him, " How can you possibly contrive to
plunge her into deeper calamity ?" Johnson, in sly allusion to
the supposed oppressive proceedings of the court of which Mr.
Walmsley was registrar, replied, " Sir, I can put her into the
Spiritual Court!"
Mr. Walmsley, however, was well pleased with this proof of
Johnson's abilities as a dramatic writer, and advised him to
finish the tragedy, and produce it on the stage.
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,2 with intent to complete his educa-
1 Of Knolles' History of the Turks, Johnson says, in The Rambler,
No. 122 : "it displays all the excellences that narration can admit, and
nothing could have sunk its author in obscurity, but the remoteness and
barbarity of the people whose story he relates." " Old Knolles," said Lord
Byron, at Missolonghi, a few weeks before his death, "was one of the first
books that gave me pleasure when a child ; and I believe it had much in¬
fluence on my future wishes to visit the Levant, and gave, perhaps, the
oriental colouring which is observed in my poetry."—Works, vol. ix.,
p. 191.—Lockhart.
2 Both of them used to talk pleasantly of this their first journey to
London. Garrick, evidently meaning to embellish a little, said one day in
.my hearing, " We rode and tied." And the Bishop of Killaloe (Dr. Bar¬
nard) informed me, that at another time, when Johnson and Garrick were
dining together in a pretty large company, Johnson humorously ascer¬
taining the chronology of something, expressed himself thus :—" That was
the year when I came to London with twopence halfpenny in my pocket."
Garrick overhearing him, exclaimed, " Eh ? what do you say ? with two¬
pence halfpenny in your pocket ?" Johnson. " Why, yes ; when I came
with twopence halfpenny in my pocket, and thou, Davy, with three half¬
pence in thine." [First published in the additions to the second edition,
vol. i., p. xxxiii.—Editor.]
/ET. 27.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
69
tion and follow the profession of the law, from which he was
soon diverted by his decided preference for the stage.
This joint expedition of those two eminent men to the
metropolis, was many years afterwards noticed in an alle¬
gorical poem on Shakespeare's mulberry tree, by Mr. Lovi-
bond, the ingenious author of " The Tears of Old-Mayday."1
They were recommended to Mr. Colson,2 an eminent mathe¬
matician and master of an academy, by the following letter
from Mr. Walmsley:—
TO THE REV. MR. COLSON.
"Lichfield, March 2. 1736-7.
" Dear Sir,
" I had the favour of yours, and am extremely obliged to you;
but I cannot say I had a greater affection for you upon it than I had
before, being long since so much endeared to you, as well by an early
friendship, as by your many excellent and valuable qualifications;
and, had I a son of my own, it would be my ambition, instead of
sending him to the university, to dispose of him as this young gentle¬
man is.
"He, and another neighbour of mine, one Mr. Samuel Johnson,
set out this morning for London together. Davy Garrick to be with
1 Edward Lovibond was a gentlemen, residing at Hampton, whose
works were little known in his own day, and are now quite neglected,
though Dr. Anderson has introduced them into the Scotch edition of the
British Poets, with a life of the author, in a strain of the most hyperbolical
and ridiculous panegyric. He died in 1775.—Croker.
2 The Reverend John Colson was bred at Emmanuel College, in Cam¬
bridge, and in 1728, when George II. visited that University, was created
Master of Arts. About that time he became first master of the Free
Grammar School at Rochester, founded by Sir Joseph Williamson. In
1739 he was appointed Lucasian Professor of Mathematics in the Univer¬
sity of Cambridge, on the death of Professor Sanderson, and held that
office until 1759, when he died. He published Lectures on Experi¬
mental Philosophy, translated from the French of lAbbe Nodet, 8vo.,
1732, and some other tracts. Our author, it is believed, was mistaken in
stating him to have been master of an academy. Garrick, probably during
his short residence at Rochester, lived in his house as a private pupil.
The character of Gelidus, the philosopher, in The Rambler (No. 24), was
meant to represent this gentleman. See Mrs. Piozzi's Anecdotes, p. 49.
—Malone.
7°
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1737>
you early the next week, and Mr. Johnson to try his fate with a
tragedy, and to see to get himself employed in some translation,
either from the Latin or the French. Johnson is a very good scholar
and poet, and I have great hopes will turn out a fine tragedy-writer.
If it should any way lie in your way, doubt not but you would be
ready to recommend and assist your countryman,
" G. Walmsley."
How he employed himself upon his first coming to London
is not particularly known.1 I never heard that he found any
protection or encouragement by the means of Mr. Colson, to
whose academy David Garrick went. Mrs. Lucy Porter told me,
that Mr. Walmsley gave him a letter of introduction to Lintot,
his bookseller, and that Johnson wrote some things for him ;
but I imagine this to be a mistake, for I have discovered no
trace of it, and I am pretty sure he told me, that Mr. Cave was
the first publisher by whom his pen was engaged in London.
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 Catherine 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
travelled. 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 sixpence, 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." 2
He at this time, I believe, abstained entirely from fermented
1 One curious anecdote was communicated by himself to Mr. John
Nichols. Mr. Wilcox, the bookseller, 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." [Second edition, vol. i., p. 78.—Editor.]
2 Cumberland, in his Memoirs, vol. i., p. 355, says that he heard the
illustrious scholar (Johnson), who never varied from the truth of fact,
assert, that he subsisted himself, for a considerable space of time, upon
the scanty pittance of fourpence halfpenny per day.—Croker.
t^za^Tl£jZ^75? T^e fa- (j>T
frfyri/ a^-cr-c/-
/c/Lo€<ir (/ ^ae/-
^7?-^9y-t^ nJ-e^-4 ^ ^ efrtry JwrVvr
ttf^L^- p*2&
^ / /A <fe*r.a. /fz£,
MT. 28.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
71
liquors: a practice to which he rigidly conformed for many-
years together, at different periods of his life.1
His Ofellus in the art of living in London,2 I have
heard him relate, was an Irish painter, whom he knew at
Birmingham, and who had practised his own precepts of
economy for several years in the British capital. He assured
Johnson, who, I suppose, was then meditating to try his for¬
tune in London, but was apprehensive of the expense, " that
thirty pounds a year was enough to enable a man to live there
without being contemptible. He allowed ten pounds for clothes
and linen. He said a man might live in a garret at eighteen-
pence a week ; few people would inquire where he lodged ; and
if they did, it was easy to say, ' Sir, I am to be found at such
a place.' By spending three-pence in a coffee-house, he might
be for some hours every day in very good company ; he might
dine for sixpence, breakfast on bread and milk for a penny,
and do without supper. On clean-shirt-day he went abroad;
1 At this time his abstinence from wine may, perhaps, be attributed to
poverty, but in his subsequent life he was restrained from that indulgence
by, as it appears, moral, or rather medical considerations. He found by
experience that wine, though it dissipated for amoment,yeteventuallyaggra-
vated the hereditary disease under which he suffered ; and perhaps it may
have been owing to a long course of abstinence, that his mental health
seems to have been better in the latter than in the earlier portion of his
life. He says, in his Prayers and Meditations (Aug. 17th, 1767), " By
abstinence from wine and suppers, I obtained sudden and great relief,
and had freedom of mind restored to me ; which I have wanted for all
this year, without being able to find any means of obtaining it." See also
post, Sept. 16th, 1773. These remarks are important, because depression
of spirits is too often treated on a contrary system, from ignorance of, or
inattention, to what may be its real cause.—Croker.
2 Both Boswell and Croker spell the name Ofellus, instead of Ofella.
Neither is Croker right when, in a note on this passage, he calls Ofella, a
Roman rustic. Horace (Sat. ii. 2. 133) informs us that, in his youth,
Ofella was the owner of an estate near Venusia, which was taken from him
and conferred on a veteran named Umbrenus.
" Nunc ager Umbreni sub nomine, nuper Ofellse
Dictus"
and that as " colonus," he rented a farm on the estate which had been for¬
merly his own.—Editor.
72 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1737*
and paid visits." I have heard him more than once talk of his
frugal friend, whom he recollected with esteem and kindness,
and did not like to have one smile at the recital. " This man,"
said he, gravely, "was a very sensible man, who perfectly under¬
stood common affairs : a man of a great deal of knowledge of
the world, fresh from life, not strained through books. He
borrowed a horse and ten pounds at Birmingham. Finding
himself master of so much money, he set off for West Chester,
in order to get to Ireland. He returned the horse, and pro¬
bably the ten pounds too, after he had got home."
Considering Johnson's narrow circumstances in the early
part of his life, and particularly at the interesting era of his
launching into the ocean of London, it is not to be wondered
at, that an actual instance, proved by experience, of the possi¬
bility of enjoying the intellectual luxury of social life upon a
very small income, should deeply engage his attention, and be
ever recollected by him as a circumstance of much importance.
He amused himself, I remember, by computing how much more
expense was absolutely necessary to live upon the same scale
with that which his friend described, when the value of money
was diminished by the progress of commerce. It may be esti¬
mated that double the money might now with difficulty be
sufficient.
Amidst this cold obscurity, there was one brilliant circum¬
stance to cheer him ; he was well acquainted with Mr. Henry
Hervey,1 one of the branches of the noble family of that name,
1 The Hon. Henry Hervey, third [fourth] son of the first Earl of
Bristol [born 1700], quitted the army and took orders. He married [in
1730, Catherine the eldest] sister of Sir Thomas Aston, by whom he got the
Aston Estate, and assumed the name and arms of that family. Vide
Collins' Peerage, third ed., vol. iii., p. 384.
Mr. Hervey's acquaintance and kindness Johnson owed, no doubt, to
his friend Mr. Walmsley; who, it will be recollected, married Mrs. Hervey's
sister, Margaret Aston. But I doubt whether Mr. Boswell does not ante¬
date this intimacy with Hervey and Johnson's love of that name by a
couple of years—for the first edition of London contained a sneer at Lord
Hervey (Henry's brother), for whose name that of Clodio was afterwards
substituted.—Croker.
Mr. Croker in the preceding note questions the existence of any inti-
JET. 2 8.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
73
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 men¬
tioned 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,1 but
very kind to me. If you call a dog' Hervey,' I shall love him."
He told me he had now written only three acts of his
" Irene," and that he retired for some time to lodgings at
Greenwich, where he proceeded in it somewhat further, and
used to compose, walking in the Park; but did not stay long
enough at that place to finish it.
At this period we find the following letter from him to Mr.
Edward Cave, which, as a link in the chain of his literary
history, it is proper to insert:
macy between Johnson and Hervey in or before 1738, because of the
sneer at Lord Hervey, Henry Hervey's brother, which occurs in the poem
London, published May, 1738.
" And strive in vain to laugh at H y's jest,"
and seems to imply that when his intimacy with Henry Hervey was
formed, Johnson for H y substituted Clodio, which we find in the
collected editions of Johnson's works. But H y occurs not only in
the first edition, but in the fourth edition of London, 1739. In the poem,
also, as printed in Dodsley's collection, second edition, 1748, vol. i.,
p. 192, it is still H——y ; in an edition published 1765 H y again, and
in the 1782 edition, still H y. In the Poetical Works of Johnson, first
collected in one volume, Lond. 1785, we find the same reading. Nor can
we trace when H y gives place to Clodio; not, we believe, in any
edition published in Johnson's lifetime. Clodio appears in Hawkins',
1787, in Murphy's, 1792, and in all subsequent editions. The charming
series of letters of young David to Captain Garrick, his father, Fitzgerald's
Life of Garrick, vol. i., chap, ii., pp. 10-28, abundantly confirms the fact
of Hervey's regiment being quartered at Lichfield.—Editor.
1 For the excesses which Dr. Johnson justly characterizes as vicious,
Mr. Hervey, was, perhaps, as much to b& pitied as blamed. He was very
eccentric. His eldest brother was the celebrated Lord Hervey, Pope's
Sftorus; the next, Thomas, of whom we shall see more hereafter (Oct.,
1766), was also very clever but very mad.—Croker.
74 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1737.
TO MR. CAVE.
" Greenwich, next door to the Golden Heart,
Church Street, July 12. 1737.
" Sir,
" Having observed in your papers very uncommon offers of
encouragement to men of letters, I have chosen, being a stranger in
London, to communicate to you the following design, which, I hope,
if you join in it, will be of advantage to both of us.
" The History of the Council of Trent having been lately translated
into French, and published with large notes by Dr. Le Courayer, the
reputation of that book is so much revived in England, that, it is pre¬
sumed, a new translation of it from the Italian, together with Le
Courayer's notes from the French, could not fail of a favourable
reception.
" If it be answered, that the History is already in English, it must
be remembered that there was the same objection against Le
Courayer's undertaking, with this disadvantage, that the French
had a version by one of their best translators, whereas you cannot
read three pages of the English history without discovering that the
style is capable of great improvements; but whether those improve¬
ments are to be expected from this attempt, you must judge from the
specimen, which, if you approve the proposal, I shall submit to your
examination.
" Suppose the merit of the versions equal, we may hope that the
addition of the notes will turn the balance in our favour, considering
the reputation of the annotator.
" Be pleased to favour me with a speedy answer, if you are not
willing to engage in this scheme; and appoint me a day to wait upon
you, if you are. I am, Sir, your humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
It should seem from this letter, though subscribed with his
own name, that he had not yet been introduced to Mr. Cave.
We shall presently see what was done in consequence of the
proposal which it contains.
In the course of the summer he returned to Lichfield, where
he had left Mrs. Johnson, and there he at last finished his
tragedy, which was not executed with his rapidity of composi¬
tion upon other occasions, but was slowly and painfully elabo-
Jet. 2 8.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
7 5
rated. A few days before his death, while burning a great
mass of papers, he picked out from among them the original
unformed sketch of this tragedy, in his own handwriting, and
gave it to Mr. Langton, by whose favour a copy of it is now in
my possession. It contains fragments of the intended plot,
and speeches for the different persons of the drama, partly in
the raw materials of prose, partly worked up into verse ; as
also a variety of hints for illustration, borrowed from the
Greek, Roman, and modern writers. The handwriting is very
difficult to be read, even by those who were best acquainted
with Johnson's mode of penmanship, which at all times was
very particular. The King having graciously accepted of this
manuscript as a literary curiosity, Mr. Langton made a fair
and distinct copy of it, which he ordered to be bound up with
the original and the printed tragedy; and the volume is de¬
posited in the King's library. His Majesty was pleased to
permit Mr. Langton to take a copy of it for himself.
The whole of it is rich in thought and imagery, and happy
expressions ; and of the disjecta membra scattered throughout,
and as yet unarranged, a good dramatic poet might avail him¬
self with considerable advantage. I shall give my readers
some specimens of different kinds, distinguishing them by the
italic character.
" Nor think to say, here will I stop,
Here will I fix the limits of transgression,
Nor farther tempt the avenging rage of heaven.
When guilt like this once harbours in the breast,
Those holy beings, whose unseen direction
Guides through the maze of life the steps of man,
Fly the detested mansions of impiety,
And quit their charge to horror and to ruin."
A small part only of this interesting admonition is preserved
in the play, and is varied, I think, not to advantage :—
" The soul once tainted with so foul a crime,
No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd ardour,
Those holy beings whose superior care
76
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
Guides erring mortals to the paths of virtue,
Affrighted at impiety like thine,
Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin."
" /feel the soft infection
Flush in my cheek, and wander in my veins.
Teach me the Grecian arts of soft persuasion"
" Sure this is love, which heretofore I conceived the dream of idle maids,
and wanton poets"
" Though no comets or prodigies foretold the ruin of Greece, signs
which heaven must by another miracle enable us to understand, yet might
it be foreshown, by tokens no less certain, by the vices which always bring
it on."
This last passage is worked up in the tragedy itself as
follows :—
Leontius.
" That power that kindly spreads
The clouds, a signal of impending showers,
To warn the wand'ring linnet to the shade,
Beheld, without concern, expiring Greece,
And not one prodigy foretold our fate.
Demetrius.
" A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it;
A feeble government, eluded laws,
A factious populace, luxurious nobles,
And all the maladies of sinking states.
When public villany, too strong for justice,
Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin,
Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders,
Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard ?
When some neglected fabric nods beneath
The weight of years, and totters to the tempest,
Must heaven despatch the messengers of light,
Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall ? "
Mahomet (to Irene). " I have tried thee, and joy to find that thou
deservest to be loved by Mahomet,—with a mind great as his own. Sure,
thou art an error of nature, and an exception to the rest of thy sex, and
art immortal; for sentiments like thine were never to sink into nothing.
I thought all the thoughts of the fair had been to select the graces of the
JET. 29. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
77
day, dispose the colours of the flaunting (flowing) robe, tune the voice
and roll the eye, place the gem, choose the dress, and add new roses to the
fading cheek, but—sparkling."
Thus in the tragedy :—
" Illustrious maid, new wonders fix me thine;
Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face;
I thought, forgive my fair, the noblest aim,
The strongest effort of a female soul
Was but to choose the graces of the day,
To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll,
Dispose the colours of the flowing robe,
And add new roses to the faded cheek."
I shall select one other passage, on account of the doctrine
which it illustrates.
Irene observes, " that the Supreme Being will accept of virtue, what¬
ever outward circumstances 'it may be accompanied with, and may be de¬
lighted with varieties of worship: but is answered, That variety cannot
affect that Being, who, infinitely happy in his own perfections, wants no
external gratifications; nor can infinite truth be delighted with falsehood;
that though he may guide or pity those he leaves in darkness, he abandons
those who shut their eyes against the beams of day."
Johnson's residence at Lichfield, on his return to it at this
time, was only for three months ; and as he had as yet seen
but a small part of the wonders of the metropolis, he had
little to tell his townsmen. He related to me the following
minute anecdote of this period 1 :■—" In the last age, when my
mother lived in London, there were two sets of people, those
who gave the wall and those who took it; the peaceable and
the quarrelsome. When I returned to Lichfield, after having
been in London, my mother asked me, whether I was one of
those who gave the wall, or those who took it. Now it is fixed
that every man keeps to the right; or, if one is taking the wall,
another yields it; and it is never a dispute."
He now removed to London with Mrs. Johnson ; but her
daughter, who had lived with them at Edial, was left with her
1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, third edit., p. 232.
78 boswell's life of johnson. 1738.
relations in the country. His lodgings were for some time in
Woodstock Street, near Hanover Square, and afterwards in
Castle Street, near Cavendish Square. As there is something
pleasingly interesting, to many, in tracing so great a man
through all his different habitations, I shall, before this work is
concluded, present my readers with an exact list of his lodgings
and houses, in order of time, which, in placid condescension to
my respectful curiosity, he one evening 1 dictated to me, but
without specifying how long he lived at each. In the progress
of his life I shall have occasion to mention some of them as con¬
nected with particular incidents,or with the writing of particular
parts of his works. To some, this minute attention may appear
trifling; but when we consider the punctilious exactness with
which the different houses in which Milton resided have been
traced by the writers of his life, a similar enthusiasm may be
pardoned in the biographer of Johnson.
His tragedy being by this time, as he thought, completely
finished and fit for the stage, he was very desirous that it
should be brought forward. Mr. Peter Garrick told me, that
Johnson and he went together to the Fountain tavern, and
read it over, and that he afterwards solicited Mr. Fleetwood,
the patentee of Drury Lane theatre, to have it acted at his
house; but Mr. Fleetwood would not accept it, probably
because it was not patronized by some man of high rank ; and
it was not acted till 1749, when his friend David Garrick was
manager of that theatre.
The " Gentleman's Magazine," begun and carried on by Mr.
Edward Cave, under the name of Sylvanus Urban, had at¬
tracted the notice and esteem of Johnson, in an eminent degree,
before he came to London as an adventurer in literature. He
told me, that when he first saw St. John's Gate, the place where
that deservedly popular miscellany was originally printed, he
u beheld it with reverence." I suppose, indeed, that every
young author has had the same kind of feeling for the maga¬
zine or periodical publication which has first entertained him,
1 Oct. 10th, 1779.
JET. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
79
and in which he has first had an opportunity to see himself in
print, without the risk of exposing his name. I myself recol¬
lect such impressions from the " Scots Magazine," which was
begun at Edinburgh in the year 1739, and has been ever con¬
ducted with judgment, accuracy, and propriety. I yet cannot
help thinking of it with an affectionate regard. Johnson 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.
Though Johnson was often solicited by his friends to make
a complete list of his writings, and talked of doing it, I believe
with a serious intention that they should all be collected on his
own account, he put it off from year to year, and at last died
without having done it perfectly. I have one in his own hand¬
writing, which contains a certain number; I indeed doubt if
he could have remembered every one of them, as they were so
numerous, so various, and scattered in such a multiplicity of
unconnected publications; nay, several of them published
under the names of other persons, to whom he liberally contri¬
buted from the abundance of his mind. We must, therefore,
be content to discover them, partly from occasional informa¬
tion given by him to his friends, and partly from internal
evidence.1
His first performance in the " Gentleman's Magazine," which
for many years was his principal source of employment and
support, was a copy of Latin verses, in March, 1738, addressed
to the editor in so happy a style of compliment, that Cave
must have been destitute both of taste and sensibility, had he
not felt himself highly gratified.
1 While, in the course of my narrative, I enumerate his writings, I shall
take care that my readers shall not be left to waver in doubt, between
certainty and conjecture, with regard to their authenticity, and for that
purpose shall mark with an asterisk (*) those which he acknowledged to
his friends, and with a dagger (f) those which are ascertained to be his by
internal evidence. When any other pieces are ascribed to him I shall give
my reasons.
8o
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
Ad Urbanum.*
Urbane, nullis fesse laboribus,
Urbane, nullis victe calumniis,
Cui fronte sertum in erudita
Perpetuo viret et virebit;
Quid moliatur gens imitantium,
Quid et minetur, solicitus parum,
Vacare solis perge Musis,
Juxta animo studiisque felix.
Linguae procacis plumbea spicula,
Fidens, superbo frange silentio ;
Victrix per obstantes catervas
Sedulitas animosa tendet.
Intende nervos, fortis, inanibus
Risurus olim nisibus aemuli;
Intende jam nervos, habebis
Participes operae Camoenas.
Non ulla Musis pagina gratior,
Quam quae severis ludicra jungere
Novit, fatigatamque nugis
Utilibus recreare mentem.
Texente Nymphis serta Lycoride,
Rosae ruborem sic viola adjuvat
Immista, sic Iris refulget
^Ethereis variata fucis.1 S. J.
1 A translation of this Ode, by an unknown correspondent, appeared
in the Magazine for the month of May following.
" Hail Urban ! indefatigable man,
Unwearied yet by all thy useful toil!
Whom num'rous slanderers assault in vain;
Whom no base calumny can put to foil.
But still the laurel on thy learned brow
Flourishes fair, and shall for ever grow.
" What mean the servile, imitating crew,
What their vain blust'ring, and their empty noise,
Ne'er seek : but still thy noble ends pursue,
Unconquer'd by the rabble's venal voice.
MT. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON,
8l
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 labour
which consisted in emendation and improvement of the pro¬
ductions of other contributors, like that employed in levelling
ground, can be perceived only by those who had an opportunity
of comparing the original with the altered copy. What we
certainly know to have been done by him in this way was the
debates in both houses of Parliament, under the name of
" The Senate of Lilliput," sometimes with feigned denomina¬
tions of the several speakers, sometimes with denominations
Still to the Muse thy studious mind apply,
Happy in temper as in industry.
" The senseless sneerings of an haughty tongue,
Unworthy thy attention to engage,
Unheeded pass : and tho' they mean thee wrong,
By manly silence disappoint their rage.
Assiduous diligence confounds its foes,
Resistless, tho' malicious crowds oppose.
" Exert thy powers, nor slacken in the course,
Thy spotless fame shall quash all false reports :
Exert thy powers, nor fear a rival's force,
But thou shalt smile at all his vain efforts ;
Thy labours shall be crowned with large success:
The Muses' aid thy magazine shall bless.
"No page more grateful to th' harmonious Nine,
Than that wherein thy labours we survey,
Where solemn themes in fuller splendour shine.
(Delightful mixture,) blended with the gay,
Where in improving, various joys we find,
A welcome respite to the wearied mind.
" Thus when the nymphs in some fair verdant mead,
Of various flow'rs a beauteous wreath compose,
The lovely violet's azure-painted head
Adds lustre to the crimson blushing rose.
Thus splendid Iris, with her varied dye,
Shines in the aether, and adorns the sky."—Briton.
G
82 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1738.
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 ma/de 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, unquestionably, there has of late been too much reason
to complain of the petulance with which obscure scribblers
have presumed to treat men of the most respectable character
and situation.
This important article of the " Gentleman's Magazine " was,
for several years, executed by Mr. William Guthrie, a man who
deserves to be respectably recorded in the literary annals of
this country. He was descended of an ancient family in Scot¬
land ; but having a small patrimony, and being an adherent of
the unfortunate house of Stuart, he could not accept of any
office in the State ; he therefore came to London, and employed
his talents and learning as an "author by profession." His
writings in history, criticism, and politics, had considerable
merit.1 He was the first English historian who had recourse
to that authentic source of information, the " Parliamentary
Journals and such was the power of his political pen, that,
at an early period, government thought it worth their while to
keep it quiet by a pension,2 which he enjoyed till his death.
Johnson esteemed him enough to wish that his life should be
written. The debates in Parliament, which were brought home
and digested by Guthrie, whose memory, though surpassed by
1 How much poetry he wrote I know not; but he informed me that he
was the author of the beautiful little piece, The Eagle and Robin Red¬
breast, in the collection of poems entitled, The Union, though it is
there said to be written by Alexander Scott, before the year 1600.
2 See, in D'Israeli's Calamities of Authors, vol. i., p. 5, a letter from
Guthrie to the minister, dated June 3rd, 1762, stating that a pension of
^£200 a-year had been " regularly and quarterly " paid him ever since the
year 1745-6. Guthrie was born at Brechin, in 1708, and died in 1770.—
Croker.
JET. 29. ' BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 83
others who have since followed him in the same department,
was yet very quick and tenacious, were sent by Cave to John¬
son 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, however, as he him¬
self told me, he had nothing more communicated to him than
the names of the several speakers, and the part which they had
taken in the debate.
Thus was Johnson employed during some of the best years
of his life, as a mere literary labourer " for gain, not glory,"
solely to obtain an honest support. He, however, indulged
himself in occasional little sallies, which the French so happily
express by the term jenx d'esprit, and which will be noticed in
their order, in the progress of this work.
But wrhat 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 splendour, the rays of
which will for ever encircle his name. Boileau had imitated
the same satire with great success, applying it to Paris ; but
an attentive comparison will satisfy every reader, that he is
much excelled by the English Juvenal.1 Oldham 2 had also
1 It is hardly fair to compare the poems in this antagonist way: Boileau's
was a mere badinage, complaining of, or rather laughing at, the personal
dangers and inconveniences of Paris. Johnson's main object, like Juvenal's,
was to satirize gravely, the moral depravity of an overgrown city.—
Croker.
2 John Oldham, whose Satires against the Jesuits gained him the appel¬
lation of "the English Juvenal," was born in 1653, and died in 1683, in
his thirtieth year. At one period of his life he was a perfect votary of the
bottle. In a letter (now in the Bodleian Library) written by him to one
of his companions, after he had retired from London, he says, " Thou
knowest, Jack, there was never a more unconcerned coxcomb than myself
once; but experience and thinking have made me quit that humour. I
think virtue and sobriety (how much soever the men of wit may turn 'em
into ridicule) the only measures to be happy, and believe the feast of a
84
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
imitated it, and applied it to London ; all which performances
concur to prove, that great cities, in every age, and in every
country, will furnish similar topics of satire. Whether John¬
son had previously read Oldham's imitation I do not know ;
but it is not a little remarkable, that there is scarcely any
coincidence found between the two performances, though upon
the very same subject. The only instances are, in describing
London as the sink of foreign worthlessness :—
" the common shore,
Where France does all her filth and ordure pour."
Oldham.
" The common shore of Paris and of Rome."
Johnson.
And,
" No calling or profession comes amiss,
A needy monsieur can be what he please."
Oldham.
" All sciences a fasting monsieur knows. "
Johnson.
The particulars which Oldham has collected, both as ex¬
hibiting the horrors of London, and of the times, contrasted
with better days, are different from those of Johnson, and in
general well chosen, and well expressed.1
There are in Oldham's imitation, many prosaic verses and
good conscience the best treat that can make a true epicure. I find I
retain all the briskness, airiness, and gaiety I had, but purged from the
dross and lees of debauchery ; and am as merry as ever, though not so
mad."— Wright.
1 I own it pleased me to find amongst them one trait of the manners of
the age in London, in the last century, to shield from the sneer of English
ridicule, what was, some time ago, too common a practice in my native
city of Edinburgh.
" If what I've said can't from the town affright,
Consider other dangers of the night;
When brickbats are from upper stories thrown,
And emptied chamberpots come pouring down
From garret windows
JET. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
85
bad rhymes, and his poem sets out with a strange inadvertent
blunder :—
" Though much concern'd to leave my old dear friend,
I must, however, his design commend
Of fixing in the country."
It is plain he was not going to leave his friend; his friend
was going to leave him. A young lady at once corrected this
with good critical sagacity, to
"Though much concern'd to lose my old dear friend."'
There is one passage in the original better transfused by
Oldham than by Johnson :—
" Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se,
Quam quod ridiculos homines facit —"
which is an exquisite remark on the galling meanness and
contempt annexed to poverty. Johnson's imitation is,—
" Of all the griefs that harass the distrest,
Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest."
Oldham's, though less elegant, is more just,—
" Nothing in poverty so ill is borne,
As its exposing men to grinning scorn."
Where or in what manner this poem was composed, I am
sorry that I neglected to ascertain with precision from John¬
son's own authority. He has marked upon his corrected copy
of the first edition of it, "Written in 1738 and, as it was
published in the month of May in that year, it is evident that
much time was not employed in preparing it for the press.
The history of its publication I am enabled to give in a very
satisfactory manner; and judging from myself, and many of
my friends, I trust that it will not be uninteresting to my
readers.
We may be certain, though it is not expressly named in the
following letters to Mr. Cave, in 1738, that they all relate to
it :
86
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
TO MR. CAVE.
" Castle Street, Wednesday Morning.
[March, 1738.]
"Sir,
" When I took the liberty of writing to you a few days ago, I
did not expect a repetition of this same pleasure so soon; for a
pleasure I shall always think it, to converse in any manner with an
ingenious and candid man : but having the enclosed poem in my
hands to dispose of for the benefit of the author (of whose abilities I
shall say nothing, since I send you his performance), I believe I
could not procure more advantageous terms from any person than
from you, who have so much distinguished yourself by your generous
encouragement of poetry; and whose judgment of that art nothing but
your commendation of my trifle1 can give me any occasion to call in
question. I do not doubt but you will look over this poem with
another eye, and reward it in a different manner from a mercenary
bookseller, who counts the lines he is to purchase, and considers
nothing but the bulk. I cannot help taking notice, that, besides
what the author may hope for on account of his abilities, he has like¬
wise another claim to your regard, as he lies at present under very
disadvantageous circumstances of fortune. I beg, therefore, that you
will favour me with a letter to-morrow, that I may know what you
can afford to allow him, that he may either part with it to you,
or find out (which I do not expect) some other way more to his
satisfaction.
" I have only to add, that as I am sensible I have transcribed it
very coarsely, which, after having altered it, I was obliged to do, I
will, if you please to transmit the sheets from the press, correct it for
you; and take the trouble of altering any stroke of satire which you
may dislike.
" By exerting on this occasion your usual generosity, you will not
only encourage learning, and relieve distress, but (though it be in
comparison of the other motives of very small account) oblige, in a
very sensible manner, Sir, your very humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
1 No doubt the Ode Ad Urbanum, the publication of which, in
March, 1738, and that of London in May, fix the date of this and the
following interesting letters.—Croker.
JET. 29.
boswell's life of Johnson.
87
TO MR. CAVE.
"Monday, No. 6, Castle Street. [March, 1738.]
" Sir,
" I am to return you thanks for the present1 you were so kind
as to send by me, and to entreat that you will be pleased to inform
me, by the penny-post, whether you resolve to print the poem. If
you please to send it me by the post, with a note to Dodsley, I will go
and read the lines to him, that we may have his consent to put his
name in the title-page. As to the printing, if it can be set imme¬
diately about, I will be so much the author's friend, as not to content
myself with mere solicitations in his favour. I propose, if my calcu¬
lation be near the truth, to engage for the reimbursement of all that
you shall lose by an impression of five hundred ; provided, as you
very generously propose, that the profit, if any, be set aside for the
author's use, excepting the present you made, which, if he be a gainer,
it is fit he should repay. I beg that you will let one of your servants
write an exact account of the expense of such an impression, and send
it with the poem, that I may know what I engage for. I am very
sensible, fi;om your generosity on this occasion, of your regard to
learning, even in its unhappiest state; and cannot but think such a
temper deserving of the gratitude of those who suffer so often from a
contrary disposition. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
TO MR. CAVE.
[April, 1738.]
" Sir,
" I waited on you to take the copy to Dodsley's : as I re¬
member the number of lines which it contains, it will be no longer
than Eugenio,2 with the quotations, which must be subjoined at the
bottom of the page; part of the beauty of the performance (if any
beauty be allowed it) consisting in adapting Juvenal's sentiments to
modern facts and persons. It will, with those additions, vety con¬
veniently make five sheets. And since the expense will be no more,
I shall contentedly insure it, as I mentioned in my last. If it be not
1 Though Cave hesitated about printing the poem, he seems to have re¬
lieved the pressing wants of the author by a present.—Croker.
2 A poem, published in 1737, of which see an account, under April 30th,
1773.
88
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
therefore gone to Dodsley's, I beg it may be sent me by the penny-
post, that I may have it in the evening. I have composed a Greek
epigram to Eliza,1 and think she ought to be celebrated in as many
different languages as Lewis le Grand. Pray send me word when you
will begin upon the poem, for it is a long way to walk. I would leave
my Epigram, but have not daylight to transcribe it. I am, Sir, yours,
&c. " Sam. Johnson."
TO MR. CAVE.
[April, 1738.]
" Sir,
" I am extremely obliged by your kind letter, and will not fail
to attend you to-morrow with Irene, who looks upon you as one of her
best friends.
" I was to-day with Mr. Dodsley, who declares very warmly in
favour of the paper you sent him, which he desires to have a share in,
it being, as he says, a creditable thing to be concerned in. I knew not
what answer to make till I had consulted you, nor what to demand on
the author's part; but am very willing that, if you please, he should
have a part in it, as he will undoubtedly be more diligent to disperse
and promote it. If you can send me word to-morrow what I shall say
to him, I will settle matters, and bring the poem with me for the press,
which, as the town empties, we cannot be too quick with. I am, Sir,
yours, &c. " Sam. Johnson."
To us who have long known the manly force, bold spirit,
and masterly versification of this poem, it is a matter of curio-
1 The learned Mrs. Elizabeth Carter.
This lady, of whom frequent mention will be found in these memoirs,
was daughter of Nicholas Carter, D.D. She [was born at Deal, Dec. 16th,
1717, and] died, in Clarges Street, February 19th, 1806, in her eighty-ninth
year.—Malone.
Mr. Cave was the means of introducing her to many authors and scholars
of note; among those was Dr. Johnson. This was early in his life, and his
name was then but beginning to be known, having just published his cele¬
brated Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal, under the name of London.
Neither this work nor his general character were as yet much known in the
country; for Dr. Carter, in a letter to his daughter, dated June 25th, 1738,
says : 'You mention Johnson; but that is a name with which I am utterly
unacquainted. Neither his scholastic, critical, nor poetical character ever
reached my ears. I a little suspect his judgment, if he is very fond of
MartialTheir friendship continued as long as Johnson lived. Renning-
ton's Life of Mrs. Carter, p. 39.—Croker.
iET. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
89
sity to observe the diffidence with which its author 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 re¬
gret ; 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! "
It has been generally said, I know not with what truth, that
Johnson offered his " London" to several booksellers, none of
whom would purchase it. To this circumstance Mr. Derrick 1
alludes in the following lines of his " Fortune, a Rhapsody :"—
" Will no kind patron Johnson own?
Shall Johnson friendless range the town?
And every publisher refuse
The offspring of his happy muse ? "
But we have seen that the worthy, modest, and ingenious Mr.
Robert Dodsley2 had taste enough to perceive its uncommon
merit, and thought it creditable to have a share in it. The fact
is, that, at a future conference, he bargained for the whole
property of it, for which he gave Johnson ten guineas, who
told me, " I might, perhaps, have accepted of less ; but that
1 Samuel Derrick, a native of Ireland, was born in 1724. He was
apprenticed to a linen-draper, but abandoned that calling, first, for the
stage, where he soon failed, and then for the trade of literature, in which
he is forgotten. Johnson had "a great kindness" for him, and he was
Boswell's " first tutor in the ways of London." In 1761 he succeeded Beau
Nash as master of the ceremonies at Bath, but his extravagance and
irregularities always kept him poor. He died in 1769.—Croker.
2 Robert Dodsley was born in 1703. He had been a livery servant to
Miss Lowther, and in 1733 published by subscription, a volume of poems,
entitled The Muse in Livery. He afterwards wrote The Toy-shop, the
King and Miller of Mansfield, Cleone, a Tragedy, The Economy of Human
Life, and other pieces. In 1758 he projected, in concert with Mr. Burke,
The Annual Register, and in 1759 he was succeeded in his business as a
bookseller by his brother James. R. Dodsley died in 1764.—Croker.
9°
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
Paul Whitehead had a little before got ten guineas for a poem,
and I would not take less than Paul Whitehead."
I may here observe, that Johnson appeared to me to under¬
value Paul Whitehead upon every occasion when he was
mentioned, and, in my opinion, did not do him justice; but
when it is considered that Paul Whitehead was a member of a
riotous and profane club1, we may account for Johnson's
having a prejudice against him. Paul Whitehead was, indeed,
unfortunate in being not only slighted by Johnson, but violently
attacked by Churchill, who utters the following imprecation:
" May I (can worse disgrace on manhood fall ?)
Be born a Whitehead, and baptized a Paul! "
yet I shall never be persuaded to think meanly of the author
of so brilliant and pointed a satire as " Manners."
Johnson's " London " was published in May, 1738 ;2 and it
1 A club, which Mr. Trevelyan in his Early History of Charles James
Fox, holds up to infamy. " Medmenham Abbey, formerly a convent of
Cistercian monks, was a ruin finely situated on the Thames, near Marlow.
A society of dissipated men of fashion, who dubbed themselves the "Fran¬
ciscans," after their founder, Sir Francis Dashwood, repaired and fitted up
the building and laid out the grounds as a retreat, where they might
indulge with impunity in their peculiar notions of enjoyment. Little is
known with certainty about their proceedings ; but that little is more than
enough. Selwyn as an undergraduate was expelled from Oxford with
every mark of ignominy, for an act of profane buffoonery, which, in an
aggravated form was performed nightly at Medmenham by the Chancellor
of the Exchequer, for the amusement of a circle of Privy Councillors and
Members of Parliament. The doors of the Abbey may still be seen, sur¬
mounted by the motto, "Fays cequevous voudras." The other inscriptions,
which disgraced the natural beauty of the groves and gardens, survive
only in books, which fortunately no one except an historian, is under any
obligation to consult." Note, p. 82.—Editor.
2 Sir John Hawkins, p. 86, tells us, " The event (Savage's retirement) is
antedated in the poem of London ; but in every particular, except the
difference of a year, what is there said of the departure of Thales must be
understood of Savage, and looked upon as trite historyThis conjecture
is, I believe, entirely groundless. I have been assured that Johnson said
he was not so much as acquainted with Savage when he wrote his " Lon¬
don." If the departure mentioned in it was the departure of Savage, the
event was not antedated but foreseenj for London was published in
^ET. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
91
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 Rev. Dr.
Douglas,4 now Bishop of Salisbury, to whom I am indebted
for some obliging communications, was then a student at
Oxford, and remembers well the effect which " London " pro¬
duced. Every body was delighted with it; and there being-
no name to it, the first buzz of the literary circles was, " Here
is an unknown poet, greater even than Pope." And it is re¬
corded in the " Gentleman's Magazine " of that year, p. 269,
that it " got to the second edition in the course of a week."
One of the warmest patrons of this poem on its first ap¬
pearance was General Oglethorpe, whose " strong benevolence
of soul" was unabated during the course of a very long life ;
May, 1738, and Savage did not set out for Wales till July, 1739. However
well Johnson could defend the credibility of second sight, he did not pre¬
tend that he himself was possessed of that faculty.
Notwithstanding Mr. Boswell's proofs, and Dr. Johnson's own asser¬
tion, the identity of Savage and Thales has been repeated by all the bio¬
graphers, and has obtained general vogue. It may, therefore, be worth
while to add, that Johnson's residence at Greenwich (which, as it was
the scene of his fancied parting from Thales, is currently taken to have
been that of his real separation from Savage), occurred two years be¬
fore the latter event; and at that time it does not appear that Johnson
was so much as acquainted with Savage, or even with Cave, at whose
house he first met Savage : again, Johnson distinctly tells us, in his "Life
of Savage," that the latter took his departure for Wales, not by embarking
at Greenwich, but by the Bristol stage coach ; and, finally and decisively,
Johnson, if Thales had been Savage, could never have admitted into his
poem two lines which seem to point so forciblv at the drunken fray, when
Savage stabbed a Mr. Sinclair, for which he was convicted of murder:—
" Some frolic drunkard,, reeling from a feast,
Provokes a broil, and stabs you in a jest."
There is, certainly, a curious coincidence between some points of the
characters of Thales and Savage ; but it seems equally certain that the
coincidence was fortuitous. Mr. Murphy endeavours to reconcile the
difficulties by supposing that Savage's retirement was in contemplation
eighteen months before it was carried into effect : but even if this, were
true (which may well be doubted), it would not alter the facts—that Lon¬
don was written before Johnson knew Savage ; and that one of the seve¬
rest strokes in the satire touched Savage's sorest point.—Croker.
92
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
though it is painful to think, that he had but too much reason
to become cold and callous, and discontented with the world,
from the neglect which he experienced of his public and private
worth, by those in whose power it was to gratify so gallant a
veteran with marks of distinction.1 This extraordinary person
was as remarkable for his learning and taste, as for his other
eminent qualities ; and no man was more prompt, active, and
generous, in encouraging merit. I have heard Johnson grate¬
fully acknowledge, in his presence, the kind and effectual sup¬
port which he gave to his " London," though unacquainted
with its author.
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. He requested Mr.
Richardson,2 son of the painter, to endeavour to find out who
1 James Edward Oglethorpe, born in 1698, was admitted of C. C. C.,
Oxford in 1714; but he soon after entered the army, and served under
Prince Eugene against the Turks, and in after life used to affect to talk
slightingly of the great Duke of Marlborough. His activity in settling the
colony of Georgia, obtained for him the immortality of Pope's celebrated
panegyric :—
" One, driven by strong benevolence of soul,
Shall fly, like Oglethorpe, from pole to pole."
In 1745 he was promoted to the rank of Major-General, and had a com¬
mand during the Scotch Rebellion, in the course of which he was, to say
the best of it, unfortunate. Though acquitted by a court of inquiry, he
never was afterwards employed. He sat in five or six parliaments, and
was there considered as a high Tory, if not a Jacobite : to this may, per¬
haps, be referred most of the particulars of his history—his dislike of the
Duke of Marlborough—the praises of Pope—his partiality towards John¬
son's political poetry—the suspicion of not having done his best against
the rebels—and the "neglect" of the court. He died June 30th, 1785.
—Croker.
2 There were three Richardsons known at this period in the literary
world : 1st, Jonathan the elder, usually called the Painter, though he was
an author as well as a painter; he died in 1745, aged eighty: 2nd, Jonathan
the younger, who is the person mentioned in the text, who also painted,
thoughnot asaprofession, and who published severalworks; hediedin 1771,
^;t. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
93
this new author was. Mr. Richardson, after some enquiry,
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} We shall presently see, from
a note written by Pope, that he was himself afterwards more
successful in his enquiries than his friend.
That in this justly-celebrated poem may be found a few
rhymes which the critical precision of English prosody at this
day would disallow cannot be denied ; but with this small im¬
perfection, which in the general blaze of its excellence is not
perceived, till the mind has subsided into cool attention, it is,
undoubtedly, one of the noblest productions in our language,
both for sentiment and expression. The nation was then in
that ferment against the court and the ministry, which some
years after ended in the downfall of Sir Robert Walpole; and
it has been said, that Tories are Whigs when out of place, and
Whigs Tories when in place ; so, as a Whig administration
ruled with what force it could, a Tory opposition had all the
animation and all the eloquence of resistance to power, aided
by the common topics of patriotism, liberty, and indepen¬
dence ! Accordingly, we find in Johnson's " London " the most
spirited invectives against tyranny and oppression, the warmest
predilection for his own country, and the purest love of virtue ;
interspersed with traits of his own particular character and
situation, not omitting his prejudices as a "true-born English¬
man," 2 not only against foreign countries, but against Ireland
and Scotland. On some of these topics I shall quote a few
passages:
aged seventy-seven ; 3rd, Samuel, the author of the celebrated novels. He
was by trade a printer, and had the good sense to continue, during the height
of his fame, his attention to his business. He died in 1761, aged seventy-
two.—Croker.
1 Sir Joshua Reynolds, from the information of the younger Richard¬
son.
2 It is, however, remarkable, that he uses the epithets which undoubtedly,
since the union between England and Scotland, ought to denominate the
natives of both parts of our island :
" Was early taught a Briton's right to prize."
94
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
" The cheated nation's happy fav'rites see;
Mark whom the great caress, who frown on me."
" Has heaven reserv'd, 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."
" How, when competitors like these contend,
Can surly Virtue hope to find a friend ? "
" This mournful truth is every where confess'd,
Slow rises worth, by poverty depress'd !"
We may easily conceive with what feeling a great mind
like his, cramped and galled by narrow circumstances, uttered
this last line, which he marked by capitals. The whole of the
poem is eminently excellent, and there are in it such proofs
of a knowledge of the world, and of a mature acquaintance
with life, as cannot be contemplated without wonder, when
we consider that he was then only in his twenty-ninth year,
and had yet been so little in the " busy haunts of men."
Yet while we admire the poetical excellence of this poem,
candour obliges us to allow, that the flame of patriotism and
zeal for popular resistance with which it is fraught had no just
cause. There was, in truth, no " oppression ; " the " nation "
was not " cheated." Sir Robert Walpole was a wise and a
benevolent minister, who thought that the happiness and
prosperity of a commercial country like ours would be best
promoted by peace, which he accordingly maintained with
credit, during a very long period. Johnson himself afterwards1
honestly acknowledged the merit of Walpole, whom he called
" a fixed star;" while he characterized his opponent, Pitt, as
"a meteor." But Johnson's juvenile poem was naturally im¬
pregnated with the fire of opposition, and upon every account
was universally admired.
Though thus elevated into fame, and conscious of uncom¬
mon powers, he had not that bustling confidence, or, I may
1 Oct. 2ist, 1773.
^ET. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
95
rather say, that animated ambition, which one might have sup¬
posed would have urged him to endeavour at rising in life.
But such was his inflexible dignity of character, that he could
not stoop to court the great ; without which, hardly any man
has made his way to a high station.1 He could not expect to
produce many such works as his "London," and he felt the
hardships of writing for bread ; he was therefore willing to re¬
sume the office of a schoolmaster, so as to have a sure, though
moderate, income for his life ; and an offer being made to him
of the mastership of a school,2 provided he could obtain the
1 This seems to be an erroneous and mischievous assertion. If Mr.
Boswell, by " stooping to court the great " means base flatteries and un¬
worthy compliances, then it may be safely asserted that such arts (what¬
ever small successes they may have had) are not those by which men have
risen to high stations. Look at the instances of elevation to be found in
Mr. Boswell's own work—Lord Chatham-, Lord Mansfield, Mr. Burke,
Mr. Hamilton, Sir William Jones, Lord Loughborough, Lord Thurlow,
Lord Stowell, and so many dignitaries of the law and the church, in whose
society Dr. Johnson passed his later days—with what can they be charged
which would have disgraced Johnson ? Boswell, it may be suspected, wrote
this under some little personal disappointment in his own courtship of the
great, which, as we shall see, often tinges his narrative. Johnson's own opi¬
nions on this point will be found under Feb., 1766, and Sept., 1777.—Croker.
2 In a billet written by Mr. Pope in the following year, this school is
said to have been in Shropshire; but as it appears from a letter from
Earl Gower, that the trustees of it were " some worthy gentlemen in John¬
son's neighbourhood," I in my first edition suggested that Pope must have
by mistake, written Shropshire, instead of Staffordshire. But I have since
been obliged to Mr. Spearing, attorney-at-law, for the following informa¬
tion :—" William Adams, formerly citizen and haberdasher of London,
founded a school at Newport, in the county of Salop, by deed dated 27th
of November, 1656, by which he granted the ' yearly sum of sixty pounds
to such able and learned schoolmaster, from time to time, being of godly
life and conversation, who should have been educated at one of the Uni¬
versities of Oxford or Cambridge, and had taken the degree of Master of
Arts, and was well read in the Greek and Latin tongues, as should be
nominated from time to time by the said William Adams, during his life,
and after the decease of the said William Adams by the governors (namely,
the Master and Wardens of the Haberdashers' Company of the city of Lon¬
don) and their successors.' The manor and lands out of which the revenues
for the maintenance of the school were to issue are situate at Knighton
and Adbaston in the county of Stafford." From the foregoing account of
this foundation, particularly the circumstances of the salary being sixty
9 6
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
degree of Master of Arts, Dr. Adams was applied to, by a
common friend, to know whether that could be granted him as
a favour from the University of Oxford. But though he had
made such a figure in the literary world, it was then thought
too great a favour to be asked.
Pope, without any knowledge of him but from his " Lon¬
don," recommended him to Earl Gower,1 who endeavoured to
procure for him a degree from Dublin, by the following letter
to a friend of Dean Swift:
pounds, and the degree of Master of Arts being a requisite qualification in
the teacher, it seemed probable that this was the school in contemplation;
and that Lord Gower erroneously supposed that the gentlemen who pos¬
sessed the lands out of which the revenues issued, were trustees of the
charity. (Note in second edition, vol. i., p. 107.)
Such was the probable conjecture. But in the Gentleman's Magazine
for May, 1793, there is a letter from Mr. Henn, one of the masters of the
school of Appleby, in Leicestershire, in which he writes as follows :—
" I compared time and circumstance together, in order to discover
whether the school in question might not be this of Appleby. Some of
the trustees at that period were ' worthy gentlemen of the neighbourhood
of Lichfield.' Appleby itself is not far from the neighbourhood of Lich¬
field : the salary, the degree requisite, together with the time of election, all
agreeing with the statutes of Appleby. The election, as said in the letter,
' could not be delayed longer than the 1 ith of next month,' which was the
1 ith of September, just three months after the annual audit-day of Appleby
School, which is always on the nth of June ; and the statutes enjoin, ne
ullius prceceptorum electio diutius tribus mensibus moraretur, &c.
" These I thought to be convincing proofs that my conjecture was not
ill-founded, and that, in a future edition of that book, the circumstance
might be recorded as fact.
" But what banishes every shadow of doubt is the Minute Book of the
school, which declares the head mastership to be at that time vacant."
I cannot omit returning thanks to this learned gentleman for the very
handsome manner in which he has in that letter been so good as to speak
of this work. (Addition made in the third edition, vol. i., p. 103.)
1 In 1742, John, second Lord Gower, was nominated Lord Privy Seal,
and having twice filled the office of one of the Lords Justices during the
King's absence, he was, in July, 1746, created Viscount Trentham and
Earl Gower. He died in 1754.— Wright.
^ET. 29. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
97
"Trentham, Aug. 1, 1739.
" Sir,
" Mr. Samuel Johnson (author of London, a satire, and some
other poetical pieces), is a native of this county, and much respected
by some worthy gentlemen in his neighbourhood, who are trustees of
a charity-school now vacant; the certain salary is sixty pounds a year,
of which they are desirous to make him master; but, unfortunately,
he is not capable of receiving their bounty, which would make him
happy for life, by not being a master of arts ; which, by the statutes of
this school, the master of it must be.
"Now these gentlemen do me the honour to think that I have
interest enough in you, to prevail upon you to write to Dean Swift,
to persuade the University of Dublin to send a diploma to me, consti¬
tuting this poor man master of arts in their University. They highly
extol the man's learning and probity; and will not be persuaded, that
the University will make any difficulty of conferring such a favour
upon a stranger, if he is recommended by the Dean. They say, he is
not afraid of the strictest examination, though he is of so long a
journey; and will venture it, if the Dean thinks it necessary; choosing
rather to die upon the road, than be starved to death in translating
for booksellers; which has been his only subsistence for some time
past.
"I fear there is more difficulty in this affair than those good-
natured gentlemen apprehend; especially as their election cannot be
delayed longer than the eleventh of next month. If you see this
matter in the same light that it appears to me, I hope you will burn
this, and pardon me for giving you so much trouble about an im¬
practicable thing; but, if you think there is a probability of obtaining
the favour asked, I am sure your humanity, and propensity to relieve
distress, will incline you to serve the poor man, without my adding any
more to the trouble I have already given you, than assuring you that
I am, with great truth, Sir, your faithful servant, " Gower."
It was, perhaps, no small disappointment to Johnson that
this respectable application had not the desired effect; yet
how much reason has there been, both for himself and his
country, to rejoice that it did not succeed, as he might pro¬
bably have wasted in obscurity those hours in which he after¬
wards produced his incomparable works.
About this time he made one other effort to emancipate
himself from the drudgery of authorship. He applied to Dr.
H
98
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
Adams, to consult Dr. Smalbroke 1 of the Commons, whether
a person might be permitted to practise as an advocate there,
without a doctor's degree in civil law. " I am," said he, " a
total stranger to these studies; but whatever is a profession,
and maintains numbers, must be within the reach of common
abilities, and some degree of industry." Dr. Adams was much
pleased with Johnson's design to employ his talents in that
manner, being confident he would have attained to great
eminence. And, indeed, I cannot conceive a man better quali¬
fied to make a distinguished figure as a lawyer ; for he would
have brought to his profession a rich store of various know¬
ledge, an uncommon acuteness, and a command of language,
in which few could have equalled, and none have surpassed
him. He who could display eloquence and wit in defence of
the decision of the House of Commons upon Mr. Wilkes's
election for Middlesex, and of the unconstitutional taxation of
our fellow-subjects in America, must have been a powerful
advocate in any cause. But here, also, the want of a degree
was an insurmountable bar.
He was, therefore, under the necessity of persevering in that
course, into which he had been forced ; and we find that his
proposal from Greenwich to Mr. Cave, for a translation of
Father Paul Sarpi's History, was accepted.2
1 Richard Smalbroke, LL.D., second son of Bishop Smalbroke, suc¬
ceeded his brother Thomas as Chancellor of the Diocese of Lichfield in
1778, and died the senior member of the College of Advocates. The long
connection of the Smalbroke family with Lichfield probably pointed him
out to Johnson as a person able and willing to advise him.—Croker.
2 In the Weekly Miscellany, Oct. 21st, 1738, there appeared the
following advertisement:—
"Just published, Proposals for printing the History of the Council of
Trent, translated from the Italian of Father Paul Sarpi; with the Author's
Life and Notes, theological, historical, and critical, from the French edi¬
tion of Dr. Le Courayer. To which are added, Observations on the History,
and Notes and Illustrations from various Authors, both printed and manu¬
script. By S. Johnson. 1. The work will consist of two hundred sheets,
and be two volumes in quarto, printed on good paper and letter. 2. The
price will be 18s. each volume, to be paid, half a guinea at the delivery of
the first volume, and the rest at the delivery of the second volume in
,/ET. 29. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 99
Some sheets of this translation were printed off, but the de¬
sign was dropped ; for it happened oddly enough, that another
person of the name of Samuel Johnson, librarian of St. Mar¬
tin's in the Fields, and curate of that parish, engaged in the
same undertaking, and was patronized by the clergy, particu¬
larly by Dr. Pearce, afterwards Bishop of Rochester. Several
light skirmishes passed between the rival translators, in the
newspapers of the day; and the consequence was that they
destroyed each other, for neither of them went on with the
work. It is much to be regretted, that the able performance
of that celebrated genius Fra Paolo, lost the advantage of being
incorporated into British literature by the masterly hand of
Johnson.
I have in my possession, by the favour of Mr. John Nichols,
a paper in Johnson's handwriting, entitled "Account between
Mr. Edward Cave and Samuel Johnson, in relation to a ver¬
sion of Father Paul, &c., begun August the 2d, 1738;" by
which it appears, that from that day to the 21st of April, 1739,
Johnson received for this work ^49 js. in sums of one, two,
three, and sometimes four guineas at a time, most frequently
two. And it is curious to observe the minute and scrupulous
accuracy with which Johnson had pasted upon it a slip of
paper, which he has entitled " Small account," and which con¬
tains one article, " Sept. 9th, Mr. Cave laid down 2S. 6d
There is subjoined to this account, a list of some subscribers
to the work, partly in Johnson's handwriting, partly in that of
another person; and there follows a leaf or two on which are
written a number of characters which have the appearance of
a short-hand, which, perhaps, Johnson was then trying to
learn.
sheets. Two-pence to be abated for every sheet less than two hundred.
It may be had on a large paper, in three volumes, at the price of three
guineas ; one to be paid at the time of subscribing, another at the delivery
of the first, and the rest at the delivery of the other volumes. The work
is now in the press, and will be diligently prosecuted. Subscriptions are
taken in by Mr. Dodsley, Pall Mall, Mr. Rivington in St. Paul's Church
Yard, by E. Cave, at St. John's Gate, and the Translator, at No. 6, in
Castle Street, by Cavendish Square."
IOO
boswell's life of johnson.
TO MR. CAVE.
"Wednesday. [Aug. or Sept. 1738.]
" Sir,
" I did not care to detain your servant while I wrote an answer
to your letter, in which you seem to insinuate that I had promised
more than I am ready to perform. If I have raised your expectations
by any thing that may have escaped my memory, I am sorry; and if
you remind me of it; shall thank you for the favour. If I made fewer
alterations than usual in the Debates, it was only because there
appeared, and still appears to be, less need of alteration. The verses
to Lady Firebrace 1 may be had when you please, for you know that
such a subject neither deserves mufch thought nor requires it.
"The Chinese Stories2 may be had folded down when you please
to send, in which I do not recollect that you desired any alterations
to be made.
" An answer to another query I am very willing to write, and had
consulted with you about it last night, if there had been time; for I
think it the most proper way of inviting such a correspondence as may
be an advantage to the paper, not a load upon it.
" As to the Prize Verses, a backwardness to determine their degrees
of merit is not peculiar to me. You may, if you please, still have what
I can say; but I shall engage with little spirit in an affair, which I
shall hardly end to my own satisfaction, and certainly not to the satis¬
faction of the parties concerned.3
1 They afterwards appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine [Sept., 1738],
with this title " Verses to Lady Firebrace at Bury Assizes."
It seems quite unintelligible how these six silly lines should be the pro¬
duction of Johnson ; the last of them is—
" Thou seem'st at once, bright Nymph, a Muse and Grace !"
This " Nymph, Muse and Grace" was a widow Evers, who, in the pre¬
ceding November, had, at the age of thirty-eight, re-married Sir Cordell
Firebrace. She subsequently married Mr. Campbell, uncle to the Duke
of Argyle, and died in 1782. The Peerage, into which her alliance with
Mr. Campbell has introduced her, quotes Dr. Johnson as evidence of her
beauty. Johnson, I suppose, never saw her ; the lines (if his at all) were
made, we see, to order, and probably paid for.—Croker.
' Du Halde's Description of China was then publishing by Mr. Cave
in weekly numbers, whence Johnson was to selett pieces for the embellish¬
ment of the Magazine.—Nichols.
3 The premium of forty pounds proposed for the best poem on the
Divine Attributes is here alluded to.—Nichols.
J lid 4JI- (fo <1l)4viv JtnAr^ Jn (JLib^ j ^ i^U-u ([« {^ul
^ <t/k. qJlJ^JL |^ Mfai ID C{/I^M^AJ-C- fluids ^ i^uL (fji^nJ- ^
^ ^ ^ §xfu/tUa^ fowyVhy fUi <M#
(L^Art (}v^ (fajyh^TLy (j (v^ Jtr^Vj; f A^u/, v^> Wka^M■- Jv*- ^ J (bjt (jt^J^i-
^ %-c. (j^Aj^A . ^ ^ (^KJkJJL ^tA\jxa. [Jy-^Vv^oJ(Yl^sh- ,hyl^(^'
^ ^ (fluAL CJr-tL kjvfjJLAJ? (fo hit ^s U \yf M->^
rft AU^U^.d) b %Mun- tftjuJL^ U^ ^ U ^ ^J^jJL,
Ul (frjJf (W^YL \AA^jjJ^(^MJk \ (U^C^A^^/U^l /f ^
'JL (kvw CUVU^ <U/uH^x (MIjwX (U ^(UatL II SXjjjjJ*
t^ 3 ik^K"
ftU §J\r (jjtA^ (u^4uJrti
A jjilu §di_ ^'^flh
jET. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
IOI
" As to Father Paul, I have not yet been just to my proposal, but
have met with impediments, which, I hope, are now at an end; and
if you find the progress hereafter not such as you have a right to ex¬
pect, you can easily stimulate a negligent translator.
" If any or all of these have contributed to your discontent, I will
endeavour to remove it; and desire you to propose the question to
which you wish for an answer. I am, Sir, your humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
TO MR. CAVE.
[Sept. 1738.]
" Sir,
" I am pretty much of your opinion, that the Commentary
cannot be prosecuted with any appearance of success; for as the
names of the authors concerned are of more weight in the performance
than its own intrinsic merit, the public will be soon satisfied with it.
And I think the Examen should be pushed forward with the utmost
expedition. Thus, 'This day, &c. an Examen of Mr. Pope's Essay,
&c.; containing a succinct Account of the Philosophy of Mr. Leib¬
nitz on the System of the Fatalists, with a Confutation of their
Opinions, and an Illustration of the Doctrine of Free Will' (with what
else you think proper).
" It will, above all, be necessary to take notice, that it is a thing
distinct from the Commentary.
" I was so far from imagining they stood still,1 that I conceived
them to have a good deal beforehand, and therefore was less
anxious in providing them more. But if ever they stand still on
my account, it must, doubtless, be charged to me; and whatever else
shall be reasonable, I shall not oppose; but beg a suspense of judg¬
ment till morning, when I must entreat you to send me a dozen pro¬
posals,2 and you shall then have copy to spare. I am, Sir, yours,
impransus, " Sam. Johnson."
" Pray muster up the proposals if you can, or let the boy recall them
from the booksellers."
1 The compositors in Mr. Cave's printing-office, who appear by this
letter to have then waited for copy.—-Nichols.
2 As Johnson seems to ask for thesz. proposals, as affording him a pecu¬
niary resource, they must have been the proposals for the large paper of
the translation of Father Paul, for which, as we have just seen, one guinea
was payable at the time of subscribing.—Croker,
102 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1738.
But although he corresponded with Mr. Cave concerning
a translation of Crousaz's Examen of Pope's " Essay on Man,"
and gave advice as one anxious for its success, I was long ago
convinced by a perusal of the Preface, that this translation was
erroneously ascribed to him; and I have found this point
ascertained, beyond all doubt, by the following article in Dr.
Birch's manuscripts in the British Museum :—
" Elisse Carterae, S. P. D. Thomas Birch.
Versionem tuam Examinis Crousaziani jam perlegi. Summam styli
et elegantiam, et in re difficillima proprietatem, admiratus.
Dabam Novemb. 270. 1738."1
Indeed, Mrs. Carter has lately acknowledged to Mr. Seward,
that she was the translator of the " Examen."
It is remarkable, that Johnson's last quoted letter to Mr.
Cave concludes with a fair confession that he had not a dinner;
and it is no less remarkable that, though in this state of want
himself, his benevolent heart was not insensible to the neces¬
sities of an humble labourer in literature, as appears from the
very next letter:
TO MR. CAVE.
[No date.]
" Dear Sir,
" You may remember I have formerly talked with you about a
military Dictionary. The eldest Mr. Macbean, who was with Mr.
Chambers, has very good materials for such a work, which I have
seen, and will do it at a very low rate.2 I think the terms of war and
navigation might be comprised, with good explanations, in one 8vo.
pica, which he is willing to do for twelve shillings a sheet, to be made
1 Birch MSS. Brit. Mus. 4323.
There is no doubt that Miss Carter was the translator of the Examen,
but Johnson seems to have been busy with another work of the same author
on the same subject—" a distinct thing," as he call it—viz. Crousaz's Com¬
mentary on the Abbd Resnel's translation of the Essay on Man ; an
anonymous translation of which was published in 1741, and quoted in the
Gentleman's Magazine for 1743.—Croker.
2 This book was published.
/ET. 29.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
103
up a guinea at the second impression. If you think on it, I will wait
on you with him. I am, Sir, your humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson.
" Pray lend me Topsel on Animals."
I must not omit to mention, that this Mr. Macbean was a
native of Scotland.
In the " Gentleman's Magazine " of this year, Johnson gave a
Life of Father Paul; * and he wrote the Preface to the volume, f
which, though prefixed to it when bound, is always published
with the appendix, and is therefore the last composition
belonging to it. The ability and nice adaptation with which
he could draw up a prefatory address was one of his peculiar
excellences.
It appears, too, that he paid a friendly attention to Mrs.
Elizabeth Carter ; for in a letter from Mr. Cave to Dr. Birch,
November 28, this year, I find "Mr. Johnson advises Miss C.
to undertake a translation of ' Boethius de Cons.,' because
there is prose and verse, and to put her name to it when pub¬
lished." This advice was not followed ; probably from an ap¬
prehension that the work was not sufficiently popular for an
extensive sale. How well Johnson himself could have exe¬
cuted a translation of this philosophical poet we may judge
from the following specimen, which he has given in the
"Rambler" (Motto to No. 7.):—
" O qui perpetua mundum ratione gubernas,
Terrarum coelique sator !
Disjice terrense nebulas et pondera molis,
Atque tuo splendore mica ! Tu namque serenum,
Tu requies tranquilla piis. Te cernere finis,
Principium, vector, dux, semita, terminus, idem."
" O Thou whose power o'er moving worlds presides,
Whose voice created, and whose wisdom guides,
On darkling man in pure effulgence shine,
And cheer the clouded mind with light divine.
'Tis thine alone to calm the pious breast,
With silent confidence and holy rest;
From thee, great God ! we spring, to thee we tend,
Path, motive, guide, original, and end !"
104
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
In 1739, beside the assistance which he gave to the " Parlia¬
mentary Debates," his writings in the " Gentleman's Maga¬
zine " were " The Life of Boerhaave," * in which it is to be ob¬
served, that he discovers that love of chemistry which never for¬
sook him; "An Appeal to the Public in Behalf of the Editor ;*f*
" An Address to the Reader ; " " An Epigram both in Greek
and Latin to Eliza,"(*) *, and also English Verses to her;*
and "A Greek Epigram to Dr. Birch."* It has been erro¬
neously supposed that an essay published in that Magazine
this year, entitled " The Apotheosis of Milton," was written by
Johnson ; and on that supposition it has been improperly in¬
serted in the edition of his works by the booksellers, after his
decease. Were there no positive testimony as to this point,
the style of the performance, and the name of Shakspeare not
being mentioned in an Essay professedly reviewing the princi¬
pal English poets, would ascertain it not be the production of
Johnson. But there is here no occasion to resort to internal
evidence ; for my Lord Bishop of Salisbury (Dr. Douglas2) has
assured me, that it was written by Guthrie. His separate
1 The Greek and Latin epigrams to Eliza, were in the April number of
the magazine for 1738. The English verses to Eliza were in the December
number of 1739.—Editor.
2 John Douglas, the son of a merchant of Pittenween, Fifeshire, was
born there, 1721 ; entered as a Commoner at St. Mary Hall, Oxford, and
afterwards migrated to Balliol; was ordained deacon 1744, and appointed
chaplain to the 3rd regiment of Foot-Guards ; and in this capacity was
present at the battle of Fontenoy, April 29, 1745. Returning to England,
he was chosen to be tutor of Lord Bath's eldest son, and accompanied his
pupil in his travels. He began his literary career by exploding the fabri¬
cations of William Lauder in the pamphlet " Milton Vindicated from the
charge of Plagiarism." In the spring of 1754, he published the " Criterion
a vindication of the miracles of the New Testament, addressed as a letter
to an unknown correspondent, who was afterwards known to be Adam
Smith. He was also most successful in exposing the pretensions of Archi¬
bald Bower in several pamphlets, 1756-1758. In 1763 he edited Claren¬
don's Diary and Letters, and prepared, 1777, Captain Cook's Journals for
publication, and again in 1781, Cook's second and third voyages. In
1787 he was made Bishop of Carlisle, and in 1791 was translated to the
see of Salisbury. After a life of incessant study and literary labour, he
died, May 18, 1807, in his 87th year.—Chalmers' Biographical Dictionary,
vol. xii., pp. 283-290.—Editor.
AT. 29. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 10$
publications were, " A Complete Vindication of the Licensers
of the Stage, from the malicious and scandalous Aspersions of
Mr. Brooke,1 Author of Gustavus Vasa," * being an ironical
attack upon them for their suppression of that Tragedy; and
" Marmor Norfolciense; or, an Essay on an ancient pro¬
phetical Inscription, in monkish Rhyme, lately discovered
near Lynne, in Norfolk, by Probus Britannicus." * In this
performance, he, in a feigned inscription, supposed to have
been found in Norfolk, the county of Sir Robert Walpole, then
the obnoxious prime minister of this country, inveighs against
the Brunswick succession, and the measures of government
consequent upon it. To this supposed prophecy he added a
Commentary, making each expression apply to the times,
with warm anti-Hanoverian zeal.
This anonymous pamphlet, I believe, did not make so much
noise as was expected, and, therefore, had not a very extensive
circulation. Sir John Hawkins relates, that " warrants were
issued, and messengers employed to apprehend the author;
who, though he had forborne to subscribe his name to the
pamphlet, the vigilance of those in pursuit of him had dis¬
covered :" and we are informed, that he lay concealed in Lam¬
beth-marsh till the scent after him grew cold.2 This, however,
is altogether without foundation; for Mr. Steele, one of the
Secretaries of the Treasury, who, amidst a variety of impor¬
tant business, politely obliged me with his attention to my en¬
quiry, informed me, that " he directed every possible search to
be made in the records of the Treasury and Secretary of
State's Office, but could find no trace whatever of any war¬
rant having been issued to apprehend the author of this
pamphlet."
1 Henry Brooke, the author of the celebrated novel of The Fool of
Quality, was a native of Ireland, where he was born in the year 1706. In
1738, his tragedy of Gustavus Vasa, was rehearsed at Drury Lane ; but,
it being supposed to satirize Sir Robert Walpole, an order came from the
Lord Chamberlain to prohibit its appearance. This, however, did Brooke
no injury, as he was encouraged to publish the play by a subscription,
which amounted to .£800. He died in 1783.—Croker.
2 Life of Johnson, p. 72.
106 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1738.
"Marmor Norfolciense " became exceedingly scarce, so that
I, for many years, endeavoured in vain to procure a copy of it.1
At last I was indebted to the malice of one of Johnson's
numerous petty adversaries, who, in 1775, published a new
edition of it, "with Notes and a Dedication to Samuel Johnson,
LL.D., by Tribunus;" in which some puny scribbler invi¬
diously attempted to found upon it a charge of inconsistency
against its author, because he had accepted of a pension from
his present Majesty, and had written in support of the measures
of government. As a mortification to such impotent malice,
of which there are so many instances towards men of eminence,
I am happy to relate, that this telum imbelle did not reach its
exalted object, till about a year after it thus appeared, when I
mentioned it to him, supposing that he knew of the republica¬
tion. To my surprise, he had not yet heard of it. He re¬
quested me to go directly and get it for him, which I did. He
looked at it and laughed, and seemed to be much diverted with
the feeble efforts of his unknown adversary, who, I hope, is
alive to read this account. "Now," said he, "here is somebody
who thinks he has vexed me sadly; yet, if it had not been for
you, you rogue, I should probably never have seen it."
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 in¬
debted for it to Dr. Percy, the bishop of Dromore, who per¬
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 im¬
perfect spelling of that celebrated poet, maybe exhibited to
the curious in literature. It justifies Swift's epithet of "paper-
sparing Pope," 2 for it is written on a slip no larger than a
1 The inscription and the translation of it are preserved in the London
Magazine for the year 1739, p. 244. (Note in third edition, vol. i.,
p. 114.)
2 " Get all your verses printed fair,
Then let them well be dried
JET. 30. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
107
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 infirmity of the con¬
vulsive 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 endeavour'd to serve Him without his own
application; & wrote to my Ld. gore, but he did not succeed. Mr.
Johnson published afterwds. another Poem in Latin with Notes the
whole very Humerous call'd the Norfolk Prophecy. P."
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 inquiring about
him ?"
The infirmity to which Mr. Pope alludes, appeared to me
also, as I have elsewhere observed,1 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 unsteadi¬
ness 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 dif-
And Curll must have a special care
To leave the margin wide.
Lend these to paper-sparing Pope;
And when he sits to write,
No letter with an envelope
Could give him more delight."
Advice to Grub-Street Writers.
The original MS. of Pope's " Homer " (preserved in the British Museum)
is almost entirely written on the covers of letters, and sometimes between
the lines of the letters themselves.—Nichols.
1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, third edition, p. 8.
108 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1741.
ferent one by a convulsion, notwithstanding all his efforts to
the contrary." Sir Joshua Reynolds, however, was of a different
opinion, and favoured 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
habit1 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. Whenever 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. Bankes,
of Dorsetshire; the conversation turning upon pictures, which Johnson
could not well see, he retired 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 gentleman,
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 from his reverie, like a person waked out
of his sleep, but spoke not a word."
While we are on this subject, my readers may not be dis¬
pleased with another anecdote, communicated to me by the
same friend, from the relation of Mr. Hogarth.
Johnson used to be a pretty frequent visitor at the house of
Mr. Richardson, author of "Clarissa,"and other novels of exten¬
sive reputation. Mr. Hogarth came one day to see Richard¬
son, soon after the execution of Dr. Cameron for having taken
arms for the house of Stuart in 1745-6 ;2 and being a warm
J Sir Joshua Reynolds's notion on this subject is confirmed by what
Johnson himself said to a young lady, the niece of his friend Christopher
Smart. See a note by Mr. Boswell on some particulars communicated by
Reynolds, under March 30th, 1783.—Malone.
2 Dr. Cameron was executed on June 7th, 1753.—Croker.
JET. 32.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
109
partisan of George the Second, he observed to Richardson,
that certainly there must have been some very unfavourable
circumstances lately discovered in this particular case, which
had induced the King to approve of an execution for rebellion
so long after the time when it was committed, as this had the
appearance of putting a man to death in cold blood,1 and was
very unlike his Majesty's usual clemency. While he was talk¬
ing, he perceived a person standing at a window in the room,
shaking his head, and rolling himself about in a strange ridicu¬
lous manner. He concluded that he was an idiot, whom his
relations had put under the care of Mr. Richardson, as a very
good man. To his great surprise, however, this figure stalked
forwards to where he and Mr. Richardson were sitting, and all
at once took up the argument, and burst out into an invective
against George the Second, as one who, upon all occasions,
was unrelenting and barbarous ; mentioning many instances ;
particularly, that when an officer of high rank had been ac¬
quitted by a court martial, George the Second had, with his
1 Impartial posterity may, perhaps, be as little inclined as Dr. Johnson
was, to justify the uncommon rigour exercised in the case of Dr. Archibald
Cameron. He was an amiable and truly honest man; and his offence was
owing to a generous, though mistaken, principle of duty. Being obliged,
after 1746, to give up his profession as a physician, and to go into foreign
parts, he was honoured with the rank of Colonel, both in the French and
Spanish service. He was a son of the ancient and respectable family of
Cameron of Lochiel ; and his brother, who was the chief of that brave
clan, distinguished himself by moderation and humanity, while the High¬
land army marched victorious through Scotland. It is remarkable of this
chief, that though he had earnestly remonstrated against the attempt as
hopeless, he was of too heroic a spirit not to venture his life and fortune in
the cause, when personally asked by him whom he thought his prince.
Sir Walter Scott states, in his Introduction to Redgauntlet (Waver-
ley Novels, vol. xxxv., p. viii., &c.), that the government of George II.
were in possession of sufficient evidence that Dr. Cameron had returned
to the Highlands, not, as he alleged on his trial, for family affairs merely,
but as the secret agent of the Pretender in a new scheme of rebellion : the
ministers, however, preferred trying this indefatigable partisan on the
ground of his undeniable share in the insurrection of 1745, rather than
rescuing themselves and their master from the charge of harshness, at the
expense of making it universally known, that a fresh rebellion had been
in agitation so late as 1752.—Lockhart7v
110
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1741.
own hand, struck his name off the list. In short, he displayed
such a power of eloquence, that Hogarth looked at him with
astonishment, and actually imagined that this idiot had been
at the moment inspired. Neither Hogarth nor Johnson were
made known to each other at this interview.
In 1740, Dr. Johnson wrote for the " Gentleman's Maga¬
zine " the " Preface,"f the " Life of Admiral Blake,"* and the
first parts of those of " Sir Francis Drake," * and " Philip Bar-
retier,"1 * both which he finished the following year. He also
wrote an " Essay on Epitaphs,"* and an "Epitaph on Philips,
a Musician," * which was afterwards published, with some other
pieces of his, in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. This Epitaph is
so exquisitely beautiful, that I remember even Lord Kames,2
strangely prejudiced as he was against Dr. Johnson, was com¬
pelled to allow it very high praise. It has been ascribed to
Mr. Garrick, from its appearing at first with the signature G. ;
but I have heard Mr. Garrick declare, that it was written by
Dr. Johnson, and give the following account of the manner in
which it was composed. Johnson and he were sitt'ng together;
when, amongst other things, Garrick repeated an Epitaph upon
this Philips by a Dr. Wilkes, in these words:—
" Exalted soul! whose harmony could please
The love-sick virgin, and the gouty ease ;
Could jarring discord, like Amphion, move
To beauteous order and harmonious love ;
Rest here in peace, till angels bid thee rise,
And meet thy blessed Saviour in the skies."
Johnson shook his head at these common-place funeral lines,
1 His attention was probably drawn to Barretier by Miss Carter, with
whom that young man corresponded. Certainly what has been preserved
of his correspondence in the Life of Mrs. Carter (70-94), does not
justify the extraordinary accounts which we read of his learning and
genius/ He died in 1740, ast. nineteen.—Croker.
2 Full and interesting accounts of Henry Home, Lord Kames, may be
found in Tytler's Life and Writings of this remarkable man, second edition,
three vols. 8vo., Edin., 1814. He was born at Kames in Berwickshire,
1696, and died Dec. 27th, 1782, in the eighty-seventh year of his age.
—Editor.
32.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
Ill
d said to Garrick, " I think, Davy, I can make a better."
.en, stirring about his tea for a little while, in a state
meditation, he almost extempore produced the following
"ses :—
" Philips, whose touch harmonious could remove
The pangs of guilty power or hapless love ;
Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more,
Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before;
Sleep, undisturb'd, within this peaceful shrine,
Till angels wake thee with a note like thine !" 1
At the same time that Mr. Garrick favoured me with this
ecdote, he repeated a very pointed Epigram by Johnson, on
:orge the Second and Colley Cibber, which has never yet
peared, and of which I know not the exact date. Dr. John-
n afterwards gave it to me himself:—
" Augustus still survives in Maro's strain,
And Spenser's verse prolongs Eliza's reign;
Great George's acts let tuneful Cibber sing,
For Nature form'd the Poet for the King."
In 1741 he wrote for the "Gentleman's Magazine" the
deface ;" f " Conclusion of his Lives of Drake and Barre-
r * "A free Translation of the Jests of Hierocles, with an
troduction f and, I think, the following pieces : " Debate
the Proposal of Parliament to Cromwell, to assume the
tie of King, abridged, modified, and digested ;"21 "Trans-
ion of Abbe Guyon's Dissertation on the Amazons;" f
Translation of Fontenelle's Panegyric on Dr. Morin." f Two
1 The epitaph of Philips is in the porch of Wolverhampton church. The
)se part of it is curious :—
Near this place lies Charles Claudius Philips, whose absolute contempt
riches, and inimitable performances upon the violin, made him the ad-
ration of all that knew him. He was born in Wales, made the tour of
irope, and, after the experience of both kinds of fortune, died in 1732." —
akeway.
2 This is a recast of the report, published in 1660, of this debate. Gen-
man's Magazine, vol. xi., p. 152, et seqq.—Editor.
112
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1742.
notes upon this appear to me undoubtedly his. He this year,
and the two following, wrote the Parliamentary Debates. He
told me himself, that he was the sole composer of them for
those three years only. He was not, however, precisely exact
in his statement, which he mentioned from hasty recollection ;
for it is sufficiently evident, that his composition of them began
November 19, 1740, and ended February 23 1742-3.1
It appears from some of Cave's letters to Dr. Birch, that
Cave had better assistance for that branch of his Magazine,
than has been generally supposed ; and that he was indefati¬
gable in getting it made as perfect as he could.
Thus, 21 st July, 1735 : "I trouble you with the inclosed, because
you said you could easily correct what is here given for Lord C Id's
speech. I beg you will do so as soon as you can for me, because the
month is far advanced." And 15th July, 1737 : "As you remember
the debates so far as to perceive the speeches already printed are not
exact, I beg the favour that you will peruse the inclosed, and, in the
best manner your memory will serve, correct the mistaken passages,
or add any thing that is omitted. I should be very glad to have
something of the Duke of N le's speech, which would be particu¬
larly of service.
A gentleman has Lord Bathurst's speech to add something to."
And July 3, 1744, " You will see what stupid, low, abominable stuff is
put2 upon your noble and learned friend's3 character, such as I should
quite reject, and endeavour to do something better towards doing jus¬
tice to the character. But as I cannot expect to attain my desire in that
respect, it would be a great satisfaction, as well as an honour to our work,
to have the favour of the genuine speech. It is a method that several
have been pleased to take, as I could show, but I think myself under
a restraint. I shall say so far, that I have had some by a third hand,
which I understood well enough to come from the first; others by
penny-post, and others by the speakers themselves, who have been
pleased to visit St. John's Gate, and show particular marks of their
being pleased."4
1 On Johnson's Parliamentary Debates, see Appendix to this volume.—
Editor.
2 I suppose in another compilation of the same kind.
3 Doubtless, Lord Hardwicke.
4 Birch's MSS. Brit. Mus. 4302.
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^T. 33.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
113
There is no reason, I believe, to doubt the veracity of Cave.
It is, however, remarkable that none of these letters are in the
years during which Johnson alone furnished the Debates, and
one of them is in the very year after he ceased from that
labour. Johnson told me, that as soon as he found that the
speeches 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 (or his having been the author of fictions, which had
passed for realities.
He nevertheless agreed with me in thinking that the de¬
bates which he had framed were to be valued as orations upon
questions of public importance. They have accordingly been
collected in volumes, properly arranged, and recommended to
the notice of parliamentary speakers by a preface, written by
no inferior hand.1 I must, however, observe, that, although
there is in those debates a wonderful store of political infor¬
mation, and very powerful eloquence, I cannot agree that they
exhibit the manner of each particular speaker, as Sir John
Hawkins seems to think. But, indeed, what opinion can we
have of his judgment and taste in public speaking, who pre¬
sumes to give, as the characteristics of two celebrated orators,
" the deep-mouthed rancour of Pulteney, and the yelping per¬
tinacity of Pitt ?"2
This year I find that his tragedy of " Irene " had been for
some time ready for the stage, and that his necessities made
him desirous of getting as much as he could for it without
delay; for there is the following letter from Mr. Cave to Dr.
Birch, in the same volume of manuscripts in the British
Museum from which I copied those above quoted. They
were most obligingly pointed out to me by Sir William
Musgrave, one of the curators [trustees] of that noble re¬
pository.
1 I am assured that the editor is Mr. George Chalmers, whose commer¬
cial works are well known and esteemed.
2 Hawkins, Life, p. 100.—Editor.
ii4
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1742.
" Sept. 9, 1741.
" I have put Mr. Johnson's play into Mr. Gray's1 hands, in order
to sell it to him, if he is inclined to buy it; but I doubt whether he
will or not. He would dispose of the copy, and whatever advantage
may be made by acting it. Would your society,2 or any gentleman,
or body of men that you know, take such a bargain ? He and I are
very unfit to deal with theatrical persons. Fleetwood was to have
acted it last season, but Johnson's diffidence or 3 pre¬
vented it."
I have already mentioned that " Irene " was not brought
into public notice till Garrick was manager of Drury-lane
Theatre.
In 17424 he wrote for the "Gentleman's Magazine," the
" Preface," f the " Parliamentary Debates," * " Essay on the
Account of the Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough," *
then the popular topic of conversation. This Essay is a short
but masterly performance. We find him, in No. 13 of his
"Rambler," censuring a profligate sentiment in that "Ac¬
count ;" and again insisting upon it strenuously in conversa¬
tion.5 " An Account of the Life of Peter Burman," * I believe
1 John Gray was a bookseller, at the Cross Keys in the Poultry, the shop
formerly kept by Dr. Samuel Chandler. Like his predecessor, he became
a dissenting minister; but he afterwards took orders in the Church, and
held a living at Ripon in Yorkshire.— Wright.
2 In the first edition, vol. i., p. 80, there was this note :—It is strange that
a printer who knew so much as Cave, should conceive so ludicrous a fancy
as that the Royal Society would purchase a play. In the second edition,
vol. i., p. 130, this undergoes a transformation, and we find:—
Not the Royal Society; but the Society for the Encouragement of
Learning, of which Dr. Birch was a leading member. Their object was, to
assist authors in printing expensive works. It existed from about 1735 to
1746, when, having incurred a considerable debt, it was dissolved.
3 There.is no erasure here, but a mere blank; to fill up which may be
an exercise for ingenious conjecture.
4 From one of his letters to a friend, written in June, 1742, it should
seem that he then purposed to write a play on the subject of Charles the
Twelfth of Sweden, and to have it ready for the ensuing winter. The
passage alluded to, however, is somewhat ambiguous; and the work which
he then had in contemplation may have been a history of that monarch.
Malone.
5 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, third edition, p. 167.
JET. 33. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 115
chiefly taken from a foreign publication ; as, indeed, he could
not himself know much about Burman ; "Additions to his
Life of Barretier," * " The Life of Sydenham," * afterwards
prefixed to Dr. Swan's edition of his works ; " Proposals for
printing Bibliotheca Harleiana, or a Catalogue of the Library
of the Earl of Oxford." * His account of that celebrated
collection of books, in which he displays the importance to
literature, of what the French call a catalogue raisomie, when
the subjects of it are extensive and various, and it is executed
with ability, cannot fail to impress all his readers with admira¬
tion of his philological attainments. It was afterwards pre¬
fixed to the first volume of the Catalogue, in which the Latin
accounts of books were written by him. He was employed in
this business by Mr. Thomas Osborne1 the bookseller, who
purchased the library for 13,000/., a sum which Mr. Oldys
says, in one of his manuscripts, was not more than the binding
of the books had cost ;2 yet, as Dr. Johnson assured me, the
slowness of the sale was such, that there was not much gained
by it. It has been confidently related, with many embellish¬
ments, that Johnson one day knocked Osborne down in his.
shop with a folio, and put his foot upon his neck. The simple
truth I had from Johnson himself. "Sir, he was impertinent
to me, and I beat him. But it was not in his shop : it was in
my own chamber."
A very diligent observer may trace him where we should
not easily suppose him to be found. I have no doubt that he
wrote the little abridgment entitled " Foreign History," in the
Magazine for December. To prove it, I shall quote the In¬
troduction : " As. this is that season of the year in which
Nature may be said to command a suspension of hostilities,
and which seems intended, by putting a short stop to violence
and slaughter, to afford time for malice to relent, and animosity
1 The same who is introduced into the Dunciad under disgusting cir¬
cumstances, which disgrace Pope rather than Osborne, of whom Johnson
says in his life of the poet, that his " impassible dulness " would not feel
the satire. He died in 1767.'—Croker.
u See Censura Literaria, vol. i., p. 438.— Wright.
II6 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1742.
to subside; we can scarce expect any other account than of
plans, negotiations, and treaties, of proposals for peace, and
preparations for war." As also this passage : " Let those who
despise the capacity of the Swiss, tell us by what wonderful
policy, or by what happy conciliation of interests, it is brought
to pass, that in a body made up of different communities and
different religions, there should be no civil commotions, though
the people are so warlike, that to nominate and raise an army
is the same."
I am obliged to Mr. Astle1 for his ready permission to copy
the two following letters, of which the originals are in his
possession. Their contents show that they were written about
this time, and that Johnson was now engaged in preparing an
historical account of the British Parliament.
TO MR. CAVE.
[No date.]
" Sir,
" I believe I am going to write a long letter, and have there¬
fore taken a whole sheet of paper. The first thing to be written about
is our historical design.
" You mentioned the proposal of printing in numbers as an altera¬
tion in the scheme, but I believe you mistook, some way or other,
my meaning; I had no other view than that you might rather print
too many of five sheets, than of five and thirty.
" With regard to what I shall say on the manner of proceeding, I
would have it understood as wholly indifferent to me, and my opinion
only, not my resolution. Emptoris sit eligere.
" I think the insertion of the exact dates of the most important
events in the margin, or of so many events as may enable the reader
to regulate the order of facts with sufficient exactness, the proper
medium between a journal, which has regard only to time, and a his¬
tory, which ranges facts according to their dependence on each other,
1 Thomas Astle, Esq., many years Keeper of the Records in the Tower,
one of the Keepers of the Paper Office, and Trustee of the British Museum.
He contributed many articles to the Archaeologia: but his principal work
was the " Origin and Progress of Writing, as well Hieroglyphic as Ele¬
mentary." He died Dec. 1st, 1803.— Wright.
JET. 33. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 117
and postpones or anticipates according to the convenience of nar¬
ration. I think the work ought to partake of the spirit of history,
which is contrary to minute exactness, and of the regularity of a
journal, which is inconsistent with spirit. For this reason, I neither
admit numbers or dates, nor reject them.
" I am of your opinion with regard to placing most of the resolu¬
tions, &c., in the margin, and think we shall give the most complete
account of parliamentary proceedings that can be contrived. The
naked papers, without an historical treatise interwoven, require some
other book to make them understood. I will date the succeeding
facts with some exactness, but I think in the margin.
"You told me on Saturday that I had received money on this
work, and found set down £13 2s. 6d. reckoning the half guinea of
last Saturday. As you hinted to me that you had many calls for
money, I would not press you too hard, and therefore shall desire
only, as I send it in, two guineas for a sheet of copy; the rest you
may pay me when it may be more convenient; and even by this sheet
payment I shall, for some time, be very expensive.
" The Life of Savage I am ready to go upon; and in great primer
and pica notes, I reckon on sending in half a sheet a day; but the
money for that shall likewise lie by in your hands till it is done. With
the debates, shall not I have business enough if I had but good pens ?
"Towards Mr. Savage's Life what more have you got? I would
willingly have his trial, &c., and know whether his defence be at
Bristol, and would have his collection of Poems, on account of the
preface;—" The Plain Dealer,"1—all the Magazines that have any
thing of his or relating to him.
" I thought my letter would be long, but it is now ended; and I
am, Sir, yours, &c., "Sam Johnson."
" The boy found me writing this almost in the dark, when I could
not quite easily read yours.
" I have read the Italian :—-nothing in it is well.
" I had no notion of having any thing for the Inscription.2 I hope
you don't think I kept it to extort a price. I could think of nothing
till to-day. If you could spare me another guinea for the history, I
1 The Plain Dealer, was published in 1724, and contained some account
of Savage. (Third edition, vol. i., p. 128.)
2 Perhaps the Runic Inscription, Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xii., p. 132.
—Malone.
Certainly not—that was published in March, 1742, at least seventeen
Il8 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1743.
should take it very kindly, to-night; but if you do not I shall not
think it an injury. I am almost well again."
TO MR. CAVE.
" Sir,
" You did not tell me your determination about the " Soldier's
Letter,"1 which I am confident was never printed. I think it will not
do by itself, or in any other place, so well as the Mag. Extraordinary.
If you will have it all, I believe you do not think I set it high; and
I will be glad if what you give you will give quickly.
"You need not be in care about something to print, for I have got
the State Trials, and shall extract Layer, Atterbury, and Macclesfield
from them, and shall bring them to you in a fortnight; after which I
will try to get the South Sea Report."
[No date, nor signature.]
I would also ascribe to him an " Essay on the Description
of China, from the French of Du Halde."*f
His writings in the " Gentleman's Magazine" in 1743, are,
the Preface,-j* the Parliamentary Debates,-f " Considerations on
the Dispute between Crousaz and Warburton, on Pope's Essay
on Man -f- in which, while he defends Crousaz, he shows an
admirable metaphysical acuteness and temperance in contro¬
versy : " Ad Lauram parituram Epigramma 2 * and, " A
months before this letter was written; nor does there appear in the Maga¬
zine any inscription to which this can refer. It seemed at first sight pro¬
bable that it might allude to the translation of Pope's Inscription on his
Grotto, which appeared (with an apology for haste) in the next Magazine ;
but the expression " I could think of nothing till to-day," negatives that
supposition. The inscription, then, was I suppose, one which Cave re¬
quested Johnson to devise, and for which, when Johnson after a long delay
produced it, Cave surprised him by paying.—Croker.
1 I have not discovered what this was.
2 Angliacas inter pulcherrima Laura paellas,
Mox uteri pondus depositura grave,
Adsit, Laura, tibifacilis Lucina dolenti,
Neve tibi noceat ftrcenituisse Dece.
Mr. Hector was present when this Epigram was made impromptu. The
first line was proposed by Dr. James, and Johnson was called upon by the
company to finish it, which he instantly did.
34-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
119
Latin Translation of Pope's Verses on his Grotto * and, as
he could employ his pen with equal success upon a small
matter as a great, I suppose him to be the author of an
advertisement for Osborne, concerning the great Harleian
Catalogue.
But I should think myself much wanting, both to my illus¬
trious friend and my readers, did I not introduce here, with
more than ordinary respect, an exquisitely beautiful Ode,
which has not been inserted in any of the collections of John¬
son's poetry, written by him at a very early period, as Mr.
Hector infoms me, and inserted in the " Gentleman's Maga¬
zine " of this year.
Friendship, an Ode.*
" Friendship, peculiar boon of Heaven,
The noble mind's delight and pride,
To men and angels only given,
To all the lower world denied.
" While love, unknown among the blest,
Parent of thousand wild desires,
The savage and the human breast
Torments alike with raging fires ;
" With bright, but oft destructive, gleam,
Alike o'er all his lightnings fly ;
Thy lambent glories only beam
Around the fav'rites of the sky.
" Thy gentle flows of guiltless joys
On fools and villains ne'er descend :
In vain for thee the tyrant sighs,
And hugs a flatterer for a friend.
" Directress of the brave and just,
O guide us through life's darksome way !
And let the tortures of mistrust
On selfish bosoms only prey.
Nor shall thine ardour cease to glow,
When souls to blissful climes remove:
What rais'd our virtue here below,
Shall aid our happiness above."
120
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
J 743-
Johnson had now an opportunity of obliging his school¬
fellow Dr. James, of whom he once observed, "No man brings
more mind to his profession." James published this year his
"Medicinal Dictionary," in three volumes folio. Johnson, as
I understood from him, had written, or assisted in writing, the
proposals for this work ; and being very fond of the study of
physic, in which James was his master, he furnished some of
the articles. He, however, certainly wrote for it the Dedica¬
tion to Dr. Mead,f which is conceived with great address, to
conciliate the patronage of that very eminent man.1
It has been circulated, I know not with what authenticity,
that Johnson considered Dr. Birch as a dull writer, and said of
him, " Tom Birch is as brisk as a bee in conversation ; but no
sooner does he take a pen in his hand, than it becomes a tor¬
pedo to him, and benumbs all his faculties." That the litera¬
ture of this country is much indebted to Birch's activity and
diligence, must certainly be acknowledged. We have seen
that Johnson honoured him with a Greek Epigram ; and his
correspondence with him, during many years, proves that he
had no mean opinion of him.
TO DR. BIRCH.
"Thursday, Sept. 29, 1743.
"Sir,
" I hope you will excuse me for troubling you on an occasion
on which I know not whom else I can apply to : I am at a loss for
1 TO DR. MEAD.
" Sir,
" That the Medicinal Dictionary is dedicated to you, is to be imputed
only to your reputation for superior skill in those sciences which I have
endeavoured to explain and facilitate : and you are, therefore, to consider
this address, if it be agreeable to you, as one of the rewards of merit;
and, if otherwise, as one of the inconveniences of eminence.
" However you shall receive it, my design cannot be disappointed ; be¬
cause this public appeal to your judgment will show that I do not found
my hopes of approbation upon the ignorance of my readers, and that I fear
his censure least whose knowledge is most extensive. I am, Sir, your
most obedient, humble servant,
R. James."
JET. 34.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
121
the lives and characters of Earl Stanhope, the two Craggs, and the
minister Sunderland; and beg that you will inform [me] where I may
find them, and send any pamphlets, &c., relating to them to Mr.
Cave, to be perused for a few days, by, Sir, your most humble
servant, " Sam Johnson."
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 follow¬
ing letter which he wrote to Mr. Levett, of Lichfield, the
original of which lies now before me.
TO MR. LEVETT,
In Lichfield.
"December 1, 1743.
" Sir,
" I am extremely sorry that we have encroached so much
upon your forbearance with respect to the interest, which a great per¬
plexity 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 to 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
certainty, 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 any thing 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.
"At Mr. Osborne's, bookseller, in Gray's Inn."
It does not appear that he wrote any thing in 1744 for
the "Gentleman's Magazine," but the " Preface." f His life
of Barretier was now republished in a pamphlet by itself.
But he produced one work this year, fully sufficient to main-
122
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1743
tain the high reputation which he had acquired. This was
"The Life of Richard Savage a man, of whom it is diffi¬
cult to speak impartially, without wondering that he was for
some time the intimate companion of Johnson; for his cha¬
racter 1 was marked by profligacy, insolence, and ingratitude :
yet, as he undoubtedly had a warm and vigorous, though un¬
regulated 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 materials as his philosophical curiosity most eagerly de¬
sired ; and as Savage's misfortunes and misconduct had re¬
duced 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.2
1 As a specimen of his temper, I insert the following letter from him to a
noble Lord [Tyrconnel], to whom he was under great obligations, but who,
on account of his bad conduct, was obliged to discard him. The original
was in the hands of the late Francis Cockayne Cust, Esq., one of his
Majesty's counsel learned in the law :—
" Right Honourable Brute and Booby,—I find you want (as Mr.
is pleased to hint) to swear away my life, that is, the life of your creditor,
because he asks you for a debt. The public shall soon be acquainted with
this, to judge whether you are not fitter to be an Irish evidence, than to be
an Irish peer. I defy and despise you. I am, your determined adven-
sary, R. S."
2 Sir John Hawkins, Life, p. 52, gives the world to understand, that
Johnson, "being an admirer of genteel manners, was captivated by the
address and demeanour of Savage, who, as to his exterior, was, to a
remarkable degree, accomplished." But Sir John's notions of gentility
must appear somewhat ludicrous, from his stating the following circum¬
stance as presumptive evidence that Savage was a good swordsman:—
" That he understood the exercise of a gentleman's weapon, may be in¬
ferred from the use made of it in that rash encounter which is related in
his Life." The dexterity here alluded to was, that Savage, in a nocturnal
fit of drunkenness, stabbed a man at a coffee-house and killed him: for
which he was tried at the Old Bailey, and found guilty of murder.
Johnson, indeed, describes him as having "a grave and manly deport¬
ment, a solemn dignity of mien; but which, upon a nearer acquaintance,
softened into an engaging easiness of manners." How highly Johnson
admired him for that knowledge which he himself so much cultivated, and
what kindness he entertained for him, appears from the following lines in
Z-!>. IfomajQ
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tirfuA- %^on{6y fytA+4, €c/zjL &if f *-
JET. 34. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
123
It is melancholy to reflect, that Johnson and Savage were
sometimes in such extreme indigence,1 that they could not pay
for a lodging; so that they have wandered together whole
nights in the street. Yet in these almost incredible scenes of
distress, we may suppose that Savage mentioned many of the
anecdotes with which Johnson afterwards enriched the life of
his unhappy companion, and those of other poets.
He told Sir Joshua Reynolds, that one night in particular,
when Savage and he walked round St. James's Square for
want of a lodging, they were not at all depressed by their
situation ; but, in high spirits and brimful of patriotism, tra¬
versed the square for several hours, inveighed against the
minister, and " resolved they would stand by their country."
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. That Johnson was
the Gentleman's Magazine for April, 1738, p. 210, which I am assured
were written by Johnson:—
"Ad Ricardum Savage.
Humani studium generis cui pectore fervet
O colat humanum tefoveatquegenus"
Mr. Croker justly expresses his reluctance to believe that Johnson
wrote this " sad stuff."—Editor.
1 The following striking proof of J ohnson's extreme indigence, when he
published the Life of Savage, was communicated to the author, by Mr.
Richard Stow, of Apsley, in Bedfordshire, from the information of Mr.
Walter Harte, author of the Life of Gustavus Adolphus :—
" Soon after Savage's Life was published, Mr. Harte dined with Edward
Cave, and occasionally praised it. Soon after, meeting him, Cave said,
'You made a man very happy t'other day.'—' How could that be?' says
Harte ; 1 nobody was there but ourselves.' Cave answered, by reminding
him that a plate of victuals was sent behind a screen, which was to John¬
son, dressed so shabbily that he did not choose to appear ; but, on
hearing the conversation, he was highly delighted with the encomiums on
his book." (Note in the third edition, vol. i., p. 136.)
124
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1743-
anxious that an authentic and favourable account of his extra¬
ordinary friend should first get possession of the public
attention, is evident from a letter which he wrote in the
"Gentleman's Magazine" for August of the year preceding its
publication.
TO MR. URBAN.
"As your collections show how often you have owed the orna¬
ments of your poetical pages to the correspondence of the unfortu¬
nate and ingenious Mr. Savage, I doubt not but you have so much
regard to his memory as to encourage any design that may have a
tendency to the preservation of it from insults or calumnies; and
therefore, with some degree of assurance, intreat you to inform the
public, that his Life will speedily be published by a person who was
favoured with his confidence, and received from himself an account
of most of the transactions which he proposes to mention, to the time
of his retirement to Swansea in Wales.
" From that period, to his death in the prison of Bristol, the
account will be continued from materials still less liable to objection;
his own letters, and those of his friends, some of which will-be inserted
in the work, and abstracts of others subjoined in the margin.
" It may be reasonably imagined, that others may have the same
design; but as it is not credible that they can obtain the same mate¬
rials, it must be expected they will supply from invention the want of
intelligence; and that under the title of ' The Life of Savage/ they
will publish only a novel, filled with romantic adventures and imagi¬
nary amours. You may, therefore, perhaps, gratify the lovers of
truth and wit, by giving me leave to inform them in your Magazine,
that my account will be published in 8vo. by Mr. Roberts, in War¬
wick Lane." [No signature.]
In February, 1744, it accordingly came forth from the shop
of Roberts, between whom and J ohnson I have not traced any
connection, except the casual one of this publication.1 In
1 I find that J. Roberts printed in April, 1744, The Life of Barretier,
probably a reprint from the Gentleman's Magazine, but I have not seen
it. Cave sometimes permitted the name of another printer to appear
on the title-pages of books of which he was, in fact, the publisher, as Miss
Carter's Examen was printed under the name of Dodd. In this case
JET. 34.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
125
Johnson's "Life of Savage," although it must be allowed that
its moral is the reverse of—" Respicere exemplar vitce morumque
jubeboa 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
manner, and illuminated throughout with so much philosophy,
that it is one of the most interesting narratives in the English
language.1 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 attention
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." 2
He exhibits the genius of Savage to the best advantage, in
the specimens of his poetry which he has selected, some of
which are of uncommon merit. We, indeed, occasionally find
such vigour and such point, as might make us suppose that the
the fact is certain; as it appears from the letter to Cave, August, 1743,
that Johnson sold the work to him even before it was written.—Croker.
Cave was the purchaser of the copyright, and the following is a copy of
Johnson's receipt for the money:—" The 14th day of December, received
of Mr. Ed. Cave the sum of fifteen guineas, in full, for compiling and
writing ' The Life of Richard Savage, Esq.' deceased; and in full for all
materials thereto applied, and not found by the said Edward Cave. I say,
received by me, Sam. Johnson. Dec. 14, 1743."—Wright.
1 It gives, like Raphael's Lazarus or Murillo's Beggar, pleasure as
a work of art, while the original could only excite disgust. Johnson has
spread over Savage's character the veil of stately diction and extenuating
phrases, but cannot prevent the observant reader from seeing that the
subject of this biographical essay was, as Boswell calls him, " an ungrate¬
ful and insolent profligate ;" and so little do his works show of that
poetical talent for which he had been celebrated, that, if it were not for
Johnson's embalming partiality, his works would probably be now as un¬
heard of as they are unread.—Croker.
2 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, third edition, p. 35.
126
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1744.
generous aid of Johnson had been imparted to his friend. Mr.
Thomas Warton made this remark to me ; and, in support of
it, quoted from the poem entitled " The Bastard," a line in
which the fancied superiority of one "stamped in Nature's mint
with extasy," is contrasted with a regular lawful descendant of
some great and ancient family :
" No tenth transmitter of a foolish face."
But the fact is, that this poem was published some years before
Johnson and Savage were acquainted.1
It is remarkable, that in this biographical disquisition there
appears a very strong symptom of Johnson's prejudice against
players ; a prejudice which may be attributed to the following
causes : first, the imperfection of his organs, which were so de¬
fective 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 labour could attain. At all periods
of his life Johnson used to talk contemptuously of players ;
but in this work he speaks of them with peculiar acrimony;
for which, perhaps, there was formerly too much reason, from
the licentious and dissolute manners of those engaged in that
profession. It is but justice to add, that in our own time such
a change has taken place, that there is no longer room for
such an unfavourable distinction.
1 " The Bastard : A Poem inscribed with all due reverence to Mrs. Bret,
once Countess of Macclesfield. By Richard Savage, son of the late Earl
Rivers. London, printed for T. Worrall, 1728," fol., first edition.—P.
Cunningham.
JET. 35.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
127
His schoolfellow and friend, Dr. Taylor, told me a pleasant
anecdote of Johnson's triumphing over his pupil, David Gar-
rick. When that great actor had played some little time at
Goodman's Fields, Johnson and Taylor went to see him per¬
form, and afterwards passed the evening at a tavern with him
and old Giffard.1 Johnson, who was ever depreciating stage-
players, after censuring some mistakes in emphasis, which
Garrick had committed in the course of that night's acting,
said, " The players, Sir, have got a kind of rant, with which
they run on, without any regard either to accent or emphasis."
Both Garrick and Giffard were offended at this sarcasm, and
endeavoured to refute it; upon which Johnson rejoined, "Well
now, I'll give you something to speak, with which you are
little acquainted, and then we shall see how just my observa¬
tion is. That shall be the criterion. Let me hear you repeat
the ninth Commandment, ' Thou shalt not bear false witness
against thy neighbour.'" Both tried at it, said Dr. Taylor, and
both mistook the emphasis, which should be upon not and false
witness.2 Johnson put them right, and enjoyed his victory with
great glee.
His " Life of Savage " was no sooner published, than the
following liberal praise was given to it, in " The Champion," a
periodical paper:
" This pamphlet is, without flattery to its author, as just and well-
written a piece of its kind as I ever saw; so that at the same time that
it highly deserves, it certainly stands very little in need of this recom¬
mendation. As to the history of the unfortunate person, whose
memoirs compose this work, it is certainly penned with equal accuracy
and spirit, of which I am so much the better judge, as I know many
of the facts mentioned to be strictly true, and very fairly related.
1 Giffard was the manager of Goodman's Fields playhouse, where
Garrick made his first appearance, Oct. 19th, 1741, in the character of
Richard III.— Wright.
2 I suspect Dr. Taylor was inaccurate in this statement. The emphasis
should be equally upon shalt and not, as both concur to form the negative
injunction; and false witness, like the other acts prohibited in the Deca¬
logue, should not be marked by any peculiar emphasis, but only be dis¬
tinctly enunciated.
128
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1744.
Besides, it is not only the story of Mr. Savage, but innumerable inci¬
dents relating to other persons, and other affairs, which renders this
a very amusing, and, withal, a very instructive and valuable per¬
formance. The author's observations are short, significant, and just,
as his narrative is remarkably smooth and well disposed. His reflec¬
tions open to all the recesses of the human heart; and, in a word, a
more just or pleasant, a more engaging or a more improving treatise,
on all the excellencies and defects of human nature, is scarce to be
found in our own, or, perhaps, any other language."1
Johnson's partiality for Savage made him entertain no doubt
of his story, however extraordinary and improbable. It never
occurred to him to question his being the son of the Countess
of Macclesfield, of whose unrelenting barbarity he so loudly
complained, and the particulars of which are related in so
strong and affecting a manner in Johnson's Life of him.
Johnson was certainly well warranted in publishing his narra¬
tive, however offensive it might be to the lady and her rela¬
tions ; because her alleged unnatural and cruel conduct to her
son, and shameful avowal of guilt, were stated in a " Life of
Savage " now lying before me, which came out so early as
1727, and no attempt had been made to confute it, or to punish
the author or printer as a libeller: but for the honour of human
nature, we should be glad to find the shocking tale not true;
and from a respectable gentleman2 connected with the lady's
family, I have received such information and remarks, as,
1 This paper is well known to have been written by the celebrated
Henry Fielding. But I suppose Johnson was not informed of his being
indebted to him for this civility ; for if he had been apprised of that cir¬
cumstance, as he was very sensible of praise, he probably would not have
spoken with so little respect of Fielding, as we shall find he afterwards
did.
This erroneous statement, with the observation made on it, printed
in the text of the first edition, vol. i., p. 91, was expunged by Boswell in
the second, where also we find the following note:—This character of the
Life of Savage was not written by Fielding, as has been supposed, but most
probably by Ralph, who, as appears from the minutes of the partners of The
Champion, in the possession of Mr. Reed of Staple Inn, succeeded Field¬
ing in his share of the paper, before the date of that eulogium.—Editor.
2 The late Francis Cockayne Cust, Esq., one of his Majesty's counsel,
learned in the law. [Second edition, i., 148.]
^T. 35.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
129
joined to my own inquiries, will, I think, render it at least
somewhat doubtful, especially when we consider that it must
have originated from the person himself who went by the name
of Richard Savage.
If the maxim, falsiim in uno,falsum in omnibus, were to be
received without qualification, the credit of Savage's narrative,
as conveyed to us, would be annihilated ; for it contains some
assertions which, beyond a question, are not true.
1. In order to induce a belief that the Earl Rivers—on ac¬
count of a criminal connection with whom, Lady Macclesfield
is said to have been divorced from her husband, by act of Par¬
liament [1697]—had a peculiar anxiety about the child which
she bore to him, it is alleged, that his Lordship gave him his
own name, and had it duly recorded in the register of St.
i^.Jrew's, Holborn. I have carefully inspected that register,
but no such entry is to be found.1
1 Mr. Cust's reasoning, with respect to the filiation of Richard Savage,
always appeared to me extremely unsatisfactory; and is entirely over¬
turned by the following decisive observations, for which the reader is in¬
debted to the unwearied researches of Mr. Bindley.—The story on which
Mr. Cust so much relies, that Savage was a supposititious child, not the son
of Lord Rivers and Lady Macclesfield, but the offspring of a shoemaker,
introduced in consequence of her real son's death, was, without doubt,
grounded on the circumstance of Lady Macclesfield having in 1696, pre¬
viously to the birth of Savage, had a daughter by the Earl Rivers, who
died in her infancy; a fact which, as the same gentleman observes to me,
was proved in the course of the proceedings on Lord Macclesfield's Bill of
Divorce. Most fictions of this kind have some admixture of truth in
them.—Malone.
From " The Earl of Macclesfield's Case" which, in 1697-8, was pre¬
sented to the Lords, in order to procure an act of divorce, it appears that
' Anne, Countess of Macclesfield, under the name of Madam Smith, was,
delivered of a male child in Fox Court, near Brook Street, Holborn, by
Mrs. Wright, a midwife, on Saturday, the 16th of January, 1696-7, at six
o'clock in the morning, who was baptized on the Monday following, and
registered by the name of Richard, the son of John Smith, by Mr. Burbridge,
assistant to Dr. Manningham's curate for St. Andrew's, Holborn : that the
child was christened on Monday, the i8thofJanuary,inFox Court; and,from
the privacy, was supposed by Mr. Burbridge to be ' a by-blow or bastard.'"
It also appears, that during her delivery, the lady wore a mask; and that
Mary Pegler on the next day after the baptism (Tuesday) took a male
K
130
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1744.
2. It is stated, that " Lady Macclesfield, having lived for
some time upon very uneasy terms with her husband, thought
a public confession of adultery the most obvious and expedi¬
tious method of obtaining her liberty;" and Johnson, assuming
this to be true, stigmatizes her with indignation, as "the wretch
who had, without scruple, proclaimed herself an adultress." 1
But I have perused the Journals of both houses of Parliament
at the period of her divorce, and there find it authentically
ascertained, that so far from voluntarily submitting to the ig¬
nominious charge of adultery, she made a strenuous defence
by her Counsel ; the bill having been first moved the 15th of
January, 1697-8, in the House of Lords, and proceeded on
(with various applications for time to bring up witnesses at a
distance, &c.) at intervals, till the 3rd of March, when it passed.
It was brought to the Commons, by a message from the Lords,
the 5th of March, proceeded on the 7th, 10th, nth, 14th, and
child, whose mother was called Madam Smith, from the house of Mrs.
Pheasant, who went by the name of Mrs. Lee, in Fox Court [running from
Brook Street into Gray's Inn Lane].
Conformable to this statement is the entry in the register of St. Andrew's,
Holborn, which is as follows, and which unquestionably records the bap¬
tism of Richard Savage, to whom Lord Rivers gave his own Christian
name, prefixed to the assumed surname of his mother:—"Jan. 1696-7.
Richard, son of John Smith and Mary, in Fox Court, in Gray's Inn Lane,
baptized the 18th."—Bindley.
Mr. Cust and Mr. Boswell's share of the argument and assertions in the
text not being distinguished, it is not possible to say which of them
hazarded the erroneous statement relative to the parish church of St. An¬
drew's, which certainly does contain what the text asserts is not to be
found in it. If the maxim, therefore, falsum in uno, falsum in omnibus,
were to be applied to them, all their observations must be rejected. On
the other hand, Mr. Bindley's researches seem only to prove what has
been generally admitted, that Lady Macclesfield had a child by Lord
Rivers, baptized by the name of Richard; but it does not disprove the
assertion, that this child died in its infancy, and that Savage, when between
seventeen and eighteen, assumed its name. Savage, in a letter to Miss
Carter, admits that he did pass under another name till he was seven¬
teen years of age, but not the name of any person he lived with. Life
of Mrs. Carter, vol. i., p. 59.—Croker.
1 No divorce can be obtained in the courts on mere confession of the
party. There must be proofs.—Kearney.
^T. 35.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
131
15th, on which day, after a full examination of witnesses on
both sides, and hearing of Counsel, it was reported without
amendments, passed, and carried to the Lords.
That Lady Macclesfield was convicted of the crime of which
she was accused, cannot be denied; but the question now is,
whether the person calling himself Richard Savage was her
son.
It has been said,1 that when Earl Rivers was dying, and
anxious to provide for all his natural children, he was informed
by Lady Macclesfield, that her son by him was dead. Whether,
then, shall we believe that this was a malignant lie, invented
by a mother to prevent her own child from receiving the bounty
of his father, which was accordingly the consequence, if the
person whose life Johnson wrote was her son ; or shall we not
rather believe that the person who then assumed the name of
Richard Savage was an impostor, being in reality the son of
the shoemaker, under whose wife's care 2 Lady Macclesfield's
child was placed; that after the death of the real Richard
Savage, he attempted to personate him; and that the fraud
being known to Lady Macclesfield, he was therefore repulsed
by her with just resentment ?
There is a strong circumstance in support of the last suppo¬
sition, though it has been mentioned as an aggravation of
Lady Macclesfield's unnatural conduct, and that is, her having
prevented him from obtaining the benefit of a legacy left to
him by Mrs. Lloyd his godmother. For if there was such a
legacy left, his not being able to obtain payment of it, must be
imputed to his consciousness that he was not the real person.
The just inference should be, that by the death of Lady Mac¬
clesfield's child before its godmother, the legacy became
lapsed, and therefore that Johnson's Richard Savage was an
impostor. If he had a title to the legacy, he could not have
1 By Johnson, in his Life of Savage.—Malone.
2 This, as an accurate friend remarks to me (i.e. Malone), is not
correctly stated. The shoemaker under whose care Savage was placed,
with a view to his becoming his apprentice, was not the husband of his
nurse. See Johnson's Life of Savage.—y. Boswell, jun.
132
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1744.
found any difficulty in recovering it; for had the executors
resisted his claim, the whole costs, as well as the legacy, must
have been paid by them, if he had been the child to whom
it was given.1
The talents of Savage, and the mingled fire, rudeness, pride,
meanness, and ferocity of his character,2 concur in making it
credible that he was fit to plan and carry on an ambitious
and daring scheme of imposture, similar instances of which
have not been wanting in higher spheres, in the history of
different countries, and have had a considerable degree of suc¬
cess.
Yet, on the other hand, to the companion of Johnson (who,
through whatever medium he was conveyed into this world, be
it ever so doubtful, " to whom related, or by whom begot," was
unquestionably a man of no common endowments), we must
allow the weight of general repute as to his status or parentage,
though illicit; and, supposing him to be an impostor, it seems
strange that Lord Tyrconnel, the nephew of Lady Maccles¬
field, should patronize him, and even admit him as a guest in
his family.3 Lastly, it must ever appear very suspicious, that
1 This is decisive: if Savage was what he represented himself to be,
nothing could have prevented his recovering his legacy.—Croker.
2 Johnson's companion appears to have persuaded that lofty-minded
man, that he resembled him in having a noble pride ; for Johnson, after
painting in strong colours the quarrel between Lord Tyrconnel and
Savage, asserts that " the spirit of Mr. Savage, indeed, never suffered him
to solicit a reconciliation: he returned reproach for reproach, and insult
for insult." But the respectable gentleman to whom I have alluded, has
in his possession a letter from Savage, after Lord Tyrconnel had discarded
him, addressed to the Rev. Mr. Gilbert, his Lordship's chaplain, in which
he requests him, in the humblest manner, to represent his case to the
Viscount.
3 Trusting to Savage's information, Johnson represents this unhappy
man's being received as a companion by Lord Tyrconnel, and pensioned
by his lordship, as posterior to Savage's conviction and pardon. But I
am assured, that Savage had received the voluntary bounty of Lord Tyr¬
connel, and had been dismissed by him long before the murder was com¬
mitted, and that his lordship was very instrumental in procuring Savage's
pardon, by his intercession with the Queen, through Lady Hertford. If,
therefore, he had been desirous of preventing the publication by Savage,
XT. 35.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
133
three different accounts of the Life of Richard Savage, one
published in "The Plain Dealer," in 1724, another in 1727,
and another by the powerful pen of Johnson, in 1744, and all
of them while Lady Macclesfield was alive,1 should, notwith¬
standing the severe attacks upon her, have been suffered to
pass without any public and effectual contradiction.2
he would have left him to his fate. Indeed, I must observe, that although
Johnson mentions that Lord Tyrconnel's patronage of Savage was "upon
his promise to lay aside his design of exposing the cruelty of his mother,"
the great biographer has forgotten that he himself has mentioned, that
Savage's story had been told several years before in The Plain Dealer;
from which he quotes this strong saying of the generous Sir Richard Steele,
that the " inhumanity of his mother had given him a right to find every
good man his father.'' At the same time it must be acknowledged, that
Lady Macclesfield and her relations might still wish that her story should
not be brought into more conspicuous notice by the satirical pen of
Savage.
1 Miss Mason, after having forfeited the title of Lady Macclesfield by
divorce, was married to Colonel Brett, and, it is said, was well known in
all the polite circles. Colley Cibber, I am informed, had so high an
opinion of her taste and judgment as to genteel life and manners, that he
submitted every scene of his Careless Husband to Mrs. Brett's revisal
and correction. Colonel Brett was reported to be free in his gallantry
with his lady's maid. Mrs. Brett came into a room one day in her own
house, and found the Colonel and her maid both fast asleep in two chairs.
She tied a white handkerchief round her husband's neck, which was a
sufficient proof that she had discovered his intrigue; but she never at any
time took notice of it to him. This incident, as I am told, gave occasion
to the well-wrought scene of Sir Charles and Lady Easy, and Edging.—
Boswell.
Lady Macclesfield died 1753, aged above eighty. Her eldest daughter
by Col. Brett, was, for the last few months of his life, the mistress of
George I. (See Walpole's Reminiscences.) Her marriage, ten years after
her royal lover's death is thus announced in the Gentleman's Magazine,
1737:—" Sept. 17. Sir IV. Leman, of Nor thai I, Bart., to Miss Brett of Bond
Street, an heiressand again next month—" Oct. 8. Sir William Leman,
of Northall, Baronet, to Miss Brett, half sister to Mr. Savage, son to the
late Earl Rivers j " for the difference of date I know not how to account;
but the second insertion was, no doubt, made by Savage to countenance
his own pretensions.—Croker.
2 It should, however, as Boswell himself suggests, be recollected, before
we draw any conclusion from Lady Macclesfield's forbearance to prose¬
cute a libeller, that, however innocent she might be as to Savage, she was
134
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1745-
I have thus endeavoured to sum up the evidence upon the
case, as fairly as I can; and the result seems to be, that the
world must vibrate in a state of uncertainty as to what was the
truth.
This digression, I trust, will not be censured, as it relates to
a matter exceedingly curious, and very intimately connected
with Johnson, both as a man and an author.
He this year wrote the " Preface to the Harleian Miscel¬
lany." * The selection of the pamphlets of which it was com¬
posed was made by Mr. Oldys, a man of eager curiosity, and
indefatigable diligence, who first exerted that spirit of inquiry
into the literature of the old English writers, by which the
works of our great dramatic poet have of late been so signally
illustrated.1
In 1745, he published a pamphlet entitled "Miscellaneous
Observations on the Tragedy of Macbeth, with Remarks on
Sir T. H.'s (Sir Thomas Hanmer's) Edition of Shakspeare."2*
To which he affixed, " Proposals for a new edition of that
poet."
As we do not trace any thing else published by him during
the course of this year, we may conjecture that he was occu¬
pied entirely with that work. But the little encouragement
which was given by the public to his anonymous proposals for
the execution of a task which Warburton was known to have
undertaken, probably damped his ardour. His pamphlet, how¬
ever, was highly esteemed, and was fortunate enough to obtain
undeniably and inexcusably guilty in other respects, and would have
been naturally reluctant to drag her frailties again before the public.—
Croker.
1 William Oldys was born in 1696. In 1737 he published The British
Librarian; an Abstract of our most scarce, useful and valuable Books;
and, in 1738, a Life of Sir Walter Raleigh. He also contributed several
articles to the General Dictionary, and the Biographia Britannica. He
died in 1761.—Wright.
2 Sir Thomas Hanmer was born in 1676. He was Speaker of the
House of Commons in Queen Anne's last parliament, and died May 5th,
1746. His Shakespeare, in six volumes quarto, was published in 1744.—
Wright.
JET. 36.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
135
the approbation even of the supercilious Warburton himself,
who, in the Preface to his " Shakspeare," published two years
afterwards, thus mentioned it: " As to all those things which
have been published under the titles of Essays, Remarks, Ob¬
servations, &c. on Shakspeare, if you except some critical
Notes on Macbeth, given as a specimen of a projected edition,
and written, as appears, by a man of parts and genius, the rest
are absolutely below a serious notice."
Of this flattering distinction shown to him by Warburton, a
very grateful remembrance was ever entertained by Johnson,
who said, " He praised me at a time when praise was of value
to me."
In 1746, it is probable that he was still employed upon his
" Shakspeare," 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 anxiety
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.
None of his letters during those years are extant, so far as
I can discover. This is much to be regretted. It might afford
some entertainment to see how he then expressed himself to
his private friends concerning State affairs. Dr. Adams in¬
forms me, that " at this time a favourite object which he had
in contemplation was ' The Life of Alfred in which, from the
warmth with which he spoke about it, he would, I believe, had
he been master of his own will, have engaged himself, rather
than on any other subject."
In 1747, it is supposed that the "Gentleman's Magazine"
for May was enriched by him with five short poetical pieces
distinguished by three asterisks. The first is a translation, or
136
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1747-
rather a paraphrase, of a Latin Epitaph on Sir Thomas
Hanmer. Whether the Latin was his, or not, I have never
heard, though I should think it probably was, if it be certain
that he wrote the English; as to which my only cause of
doubt is, that his slighting character of Hanmer as an editor,
in his " Observations on Macbeth," is very different from that
in the Epitaph. It may be said, that there is the same con¬
trariety between the character in the Observations, and that in
his own " Preface to Shakspeare ;" but a considerable time
elapsed between the one publication and the other, whereas,
the Observations and the Epitaph came close together. The
others are, "To Miss , on her giving the Author a gold
and silk net-work Purse of her own weaving ;" " Stella in
Mourning;" "The Winter's Walk;" "An Ode;" and, "To
Lyce, an elderly Lady." I am not positive that all these were
his productions j1 but as "The Winter's Walk" has never been
controverted to be his, and all of them have the same mark,
it is reasonable to conclude that they are all written by the
same hand. Yet to the Ode, in which we find a passage
1 In the Universal Visiter, to which Johnson contributed, the mark
which is affixed to some pieces unquestionably his, is also found subjoined
to others, of which he certainly was not the author. The mark, therefore,
will not ascertain the poems in question to have been written by him.
Some of them were probably the productions of Hawkesworth, who, it is
believed, was afflicted with the gout. The verses on a Purse were inserted
afterwards in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, and are, unquestionably, John¬
son's.—Malone.
There is no evidence whatever that any of these were Johnson's, and
every reason to suppose that they are all Hawkesworth's. The ode which
Boswell doubts about on internal evidence, is the ode to Spring, which,
as well as those on Summer, Autumn, and Winter, have been of late
published as Johnson's, and are, no doubt, as Boswell says, all by the same
hand. But we see that Spring bears internal marks of not being John¬
son's, and of being Hawkesworth's. Winter and Summer, Mr. Chalmers
asserts to be also Hawkesworth's; and the index to the Gentleman's Maga¬
zine for 1748 attributes Summer to Mr. Greville, a name known to have
been assumed by Hawkesworth. The verses on the Purse, and to Stella
in Mourning, are certainly by the same hand as the four odes. The
whole therefore may be assigned to Hawkesworth, but at all events
should be removed from Johnson's works.—Croker.
^ET. 38.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
137
very characteristic of him, being a learned description of the
gout,
" Unhappy, whom to beds of pain
Arthritick tyranny consigns;
there is the following note," The author being ill of the gout
but Johnson was not attacked with that distemper till a very-
late period of his life. May not this, however, be a poetical
fiction ? Why may not a poet suppose himself to have the
gout, as well as suppose himself to be in love, of which we
have innumerable instances, and which has been admirably
ridiculed by Johnson in his "Life of Cowley?" I have also
some difficulty to believe that he could produce such a group
of conceits as appear in the verses to Lyce, in which he claims
for this ancient personage as good a right to be assimilated to
heaven, as nymphs whom other poets have flattered ; he there¬
fore ironically ascribes to her the attributes of the sky, in such
stanzas as this :—
" Her teeth the night with darkness dies,
She's starred with pimples o'er;
Her tongue like nimble lightning plies,
And can with thunder roar."
But as, at a very advanced age, he could condescend to
trifle in namby-pamby rhymes, to please Mrs. Thrale and her
daughter, he may have, in his earlier years, composed such a
piece as this.
It is remarkable, that in this first edition of "The Winter's
Walk," the concluding line is much more Johnsonian than it
was afterwards printed ; for in subsequent editions, after pray¬
ing Stella to " snatch him to her arms," he says,
" And shield me from the ills of life."
Whereas in the first edition it is
" And hide me from the sight of life."
A horror at life in general is more consonant with Johnson's
habitual gloomy cast of thought.1
1 Johnson's habitual horror was not of life but of death.—Croker.
138
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1747-
I have heard him repeat with great energy the following
verses, which appeared in the " Gentleman's Magazine " for
April this year ; but I have no authority to say they were his
own. Indeed, one of the best critics of our age suggests to me,
that " the word indifferently being used in the sense of without
concern, and being also very unpoetical, renders it improbable
that they should have been his composition." 1
on lord lovat's execution.
" Pitied by gentle minds Kilmarnock died;
The brave, Balmerino, were on thy side ;
Radcliffe, unhappy in his crimes of youth, #
Steady in what he still mistook for truth,
Beheld his death so decently unmoved,
The soft lamented, and the brave approved.
But Lovat's fate indifferently we view,
True to no king, to no religion true :
No fair forgets the ruin he has done;
No child laments the tyrant of his son ;
No Tory pities, thinking what he was ;
No Whig compassions, for he left the cause;
The brave regret not, for he was not brave;
The honest mourn not, knowing him a knave !"2
This year his old pupil and friend, David Garrick, having
1 Mr. Boswell and the critic, who I suppose was Doctor Blair, are un¬
lucky in this objection, for Johnson has " indifferently" in the sense of
"without concern" in his Dictionary, with this example from Shakespeare,
" And I will look on death indifferently."—Croker.
2 These verses are somewhat too severe on the extraordinary person
who is the chief figure in them; for he was, undoubtedly, brave. His
pleasantry during his solemn trial (in which, by the way, I have heard Mr.
David Hume observe, that we have one of the very few speeches of Mr.
Murray, now Earl of Mansfield, authentically given) was very remarkable.
When asked if he had any questions to put to Sir Everard Fawkener, who
was one of the strongest witnesses against him, he answered, " I only wish
him joy of his young wife." And after sentence of death, in the horrible
terms in such cases of treason, was pronounced upon him, as he was re¬
tiring from the bar, he said, "Fare you well, my lords, we shall not all
meet again in one place." He behaved with perfect composure at his exe¬
cution, and called out, " Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori'."
JET. 38.
boswell's life of johnson.
139
become joint patentee and manager of Drury Lane theatre,
Johnson honoured 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 poetical excellence, is un¬
rivalled. Like the celebrated Epilogue to the " Distressed
Mother," 1 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 all the
lovers of the drama and of poetry, that it would be superfluous
to point them out. In the " Gentleman's Magazine " for De¬
cember 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 John¬
son's arduous and important work, his " dictionary of the
English Language," was announced to the world, by the
publication 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 informed 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
1 In 1712, Ambrose Philips brought upon the stage, The Distressed
Mother, almost a translation of Racine's Andromaque. It was concluded
with the most successful epilogue that was ever yet spoken on the English
theatre. The three first nights it was recited twice, and continued to be de¬
manded through the run, as it is termed, of the play.— Wright.
Of this distinguished epilogue the reputed author was the wretched
Budgel, whom Addison used to denominate " the man who calls me
cousin;" and when he was asked how such a silly fellow could write so
well, replied, " The epilogue was quite another thing when I saw it first."
It was known in Tonson's family, and told to Garrick that Addison was
himself the author.—Johnson's Life of Ambrose Philips, Works, vol. viii.,
p. 280.—Editor.
I40 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1747.
the public; that Johnson seemed at first to catch at the pro¬
position, but, after a pause, said, in his abrupt, decisive manner,
" I believe I shall not undertake 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 furnished, 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 countries
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
Messieurs Knapton. The price stipulated was fifteen hundred
and seventy-five pounds.
The " Plan" was addressed to Philip Dormer, Earl of
Chesterfield, then one of his Majesty's Principal Secretaries
of State ; a nobleman who was very ambitious of literary
distinction, and who, upon being informed of the design, had
expressed himself in terms very favourable to its success.
There is, perhaps, in every thing of any consequence, a secret
history which it would be amusing to know, could we have
it authentically communicated. Johnson told me,1 " Sir,
the way in which 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 pretext 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 Chester¬
field, it will be ascribed to deep policy, when, in fact, it was
only a casual excuse for laziness.'"
1 Sept. 22, 1777, going from Ashbourne in Derbyshire, to see Islam.
JET. 38.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
141
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 excel¬
lent ; 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 com¬
pliment than that in which he courts the attention of one who,
he had been persuaded to believe, would be a respectable
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 question, and the display of the
suffrages on each side; but I have been since determined by your
lordship's opinion, to interpose my own judgment, and shall therefore
endeavour to support what appears to me most consonant to grammar
and reason. Ausonius thought that modesty forbade him to plead
inability for a task to which Ccesar had judged him equal:
' Cur me posse negem, posse quod ille putatV
And I may hope, my lord, that since you, whose authority in our
language is so generally acknowledged, have commissioned 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
result of a report by means of Dodsley, that the earl favoured
the design ; but that there had been a particular communica¬
tion with his lordship concerning it.1 Dr. Taylor told me, that
1 Mr. Anderdon purchased at Mr. James Boswell's sale many of
his father's MSS., one of which he communicated to me, which is very
curious, and indeed important to the question between Lord Chesterfield
and Johnson. It is a draft of the prospectus of the Dictionary carefully
written by an amanuensis, but signed in great form by Johnson's own hand.
It was evidently that which was laid before Lord Chesterfield. Some useful
142
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1747-
Johnson sent his " Plan " to him in manuscript, for his perusal;
and that when it was lying upon his table, Mr. William White¬
head 1 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 replied, "No, Sir, it would
have come out with more bloom if it had not been seen befofe
by anybody."
The opinion conceived of it by another noble author, ap¬
pears from the following extract of a letter from the Earl of
Orrery2 to Dr. Birch :
" Caledon, Dec. 30, 1747.
" I have just now seen the specimen of Mr. Johnson's " Dictionary,"
addressed to Lord Chesterfield. I am much pleased with the plan,
and I think the specimen is one of the best that I have ever read.
Most specimens disgust, rather than prejudice us in favour of the
remarks are made in his Lordship's hand, and some in another. Johnson
adopted all these suggestions. Amongst them is to be found the opinion
that great should be pronounced grate, given in a couplet of Rowe,—
" As if misfortune made the throne her seat,
And none could be unhappy but the great."
" Undoubtedly," remarked Lord Chesterfield, " a bad rhyme, tho' found in
a good poet." This MS. now belongs to Mr. Lewis Pocock.—Croker.
1 William Whitehead, born at Cambridge in 1715, was the fashionable
poet of a day that forgot Horace's anathema against mediocrity. He suc¬
ceeded Cibber as poet laureate in 1757, and died April 14th, 1785. He
must not be confounded with Paul Whitehead, no better poet, and a much
less estimable man.—Croker.
2 John Boyle, born in 1707; educated first under the private tuition of
Fenton the poet, and afterwards at Westminster School and Christchurch
College, Oxford; succeeded his father as fifth Earl of Orrery in 1737 ;
D.C.L. of Oxford in 1743; F.R.S. in 1750; and, on the death of his cousin,
in 1753, fifth Earl of Cork. He published several works, but the only original
one of any note is his Life of Swift, written with great professions of
friendship, but, in fact, with considerable severity towards the dean. Lord
Orrery's influence may have tended to increase Johnson's dislike of Swift.
Lord Orrery's estate was much encumbered, and his pecuniary circum¬
stances much embarrassed. " If he had been rich," said Johnson (22nd
Sept., 1773) " he would have been a very liberal patron."—Croker.
JET. 38.
boswell's life of johnson.
143
work to follow; but the language of Mr. Johnson's is good, and the
arguments are properly and modestly expressed. However, some
expressions may be cavilled at, but they are trifles. I'll mention one :
the barren laurel. The laurel is not barren, in any sense whatever ;
it bears fruits and flowers. Sed hce sunt nugce, and I have great
expectations from the performance."1
That he was fully aware of the arduous nature of the under¬
taking, he acknowledges ; and shows himself perfectly sensible
of it in the conclusion of his " Plan ; " but he had a noble con¬
sciousness of his own abilities, which enabled him to go on
with undaunted spirit.
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 ? johnson.
Why, sir, here is a shelf with Junius, and Skinner, and others ;
and there is a Welsh gentleman who has published a col¬
lection of Welsh proverbs, who will help me with the Welsh.
Adams. But, sir, how can you do this in three years ? john¬
son. Sir, I have no doubt that I can do it in three years.
Adams. But the French Academy, which consists of forty
members, took forty years to compile their Dictionary. john¬
son. Sir, thus it is. This is the proportion. Let me see;
forty times forty is sixteen hundred. As three to sixteen
hundred, so is the proportion of an Englishman to a French¬
man." With so much ease and pleasantry could he talk of
that prodigious labour which he had undertaken to execute.
The public has had, from another pen,2 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
1 Birch MSS. Brit. Mus. 4303.
2 See Sir John Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 171-175. Sir John's List
of former English Dictionaries is, however, by no means complete.—
Malone.
144
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1747-
employed, as he told me, six amanuenses ; and let it be re¬
membered by the natives of North-Britain, to whom he is sup¬
posed to have been so hostile, that five of them were of that
country. There were two Messieurs Macbean; Mr. Shiels,
who, we shall hereafter see,1 partly wrote the " Lives of the
Poets " to which the name of Cibber is affixed ;2 Mr. Stewart,
son of Mr. George Stewart, bookseller at Edinburgh; and a
Mr. Maitland. The sixth of these humble assistants was Mr.
Peyton, who, I believe, taught French, and published some
elementary tracts.
To all these painful labourers, Johnson showed a never-
ceasing kindness, so far as they stood in need of it. The elder
Mr. Macbean had afterwards the honour of being Librarian to
Archibald, Duke of Argyle, for many years, but was left with¬
out a shilling. Johnson wrote for him a Preface to "A System
of Ancient Geography ; " and, by the favour of Lord Thurlow,
got him admitted a poor brother of the Charter-house. For
Shiels, who died of a consumption, he had much tenderness ;
and it has been thought that some choice sentences in the
" Lives of the Poets " were supplied by him. Peyton, when re¬
duced to penury, had frequent aid from the bounty of Johnson ;
who at last was at the expense of burying him and his wife.
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 dictionaries, and
partly supplied by himself, having been first written down with
spaces left between them, he delivered in writing their ety¬
mologies, definitions, and various significations.3 The autho-
1 Under April ioth, 1776.
r- 2 This is the reading of the third edition; in the first and second it stood
thus : Mr. Shiels, the writer of The Lives of the Poets, to which the
name of Cibber is affixed. The grounds of this alteration will be found
stated in the long note which Boswell added in the third edition, under the
above date, April ioth, 1776.—Editor.
3 Boswell's account of the manner in which Johnson compiled his Die-
JET. 38. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. I45
rities were copied from the books themselves, in which he had
marked the passages with a black-lead pencil,1 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
account; and I remember his telling me, that a large por¬
tion of it having, by mistake, been written upon 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
tionary is confused and erroneous. He began his task (as he himself ex¬
pressly described to me), by devoting his first care to a diligent perusal of
all such English writers as were most correct in their language, and under
every sentence which he meant to quote he drew a line, and noted in the mar¬
gin the first letter of the word under which it was to occur. H e then delivered
these books to his clerks, who transcribed each sentence on a separate
slip of paper, and arranged the same under the word referred to. By these
means he collected the several words and their different significations ;
and when the whole arrangement was alphabetically formed, he gave the
definitions of their meanings, and collected their etymologies from Skinner,
Junius, and other writers on the subject.—Percy.
1 Johnson's copy of Hudibras, 1726, with the passages thus marked
on every page, is now in Mr. Upcott's collection. It has Johnson's sig¬
nature, dated Aug., 1747.—Wright.
L
146
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1749.
of employment, and the pleasure of animated relaxation.1 He
therefore not only exerted his talents in occasional composition,
very different from Lexicography, but formed a club in Ivy
Lane,2 Paternoster Row, with a view to enjoy literary discus¬
sion, 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,3 and a few
others of different professions.
In the "Gentleman's Magazine" for May of this year he
wrote a "Life of Roscommon," * with notes; which he after¬
wards much improved (indenting the notes into text), and in¬
serted amongst his " Lives of the English Poets."
Mr. Dodsley this year brought out his " Preceptor," one of
the most valuable books for the improvement of young minds
that has appeared in any language; and to this meritorious
work Johnson furnished "The Preface,"* containing a general
sketch of the book, with a short and perspicuous recommenda¬
tion of each article; as also, " The Vision of Theodore, the
Hermit, found in his Cell," * a most beautiful allegory of
human life, under the figure of ascending the mountain of
1 For the sake of relaxation from his literary labours, and probably also
for Mrs. Johnson's health, he this summer visited Tunbridge Wells, then
a place of much greater resort than it is at present. Here he met Mr.
Cibber, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Samuel Richardson, Mr. Whistoh, Mr. Onslow
(the Speaker), Mr. Pitt, Mr. Lyttleton, and several other distinguished
persons. In a print, representing some of "the remarkable characters "
who were at Tunbridge Wells in 1748 (see Richardson's Correspon¬
dence), Dr. Johnson stands the first figure.—Malone.
2 A full and interesting account of the Iv>. Lane Club, and of its
members, may be found in Hawkins's Life of Johnson, pp. 219-260.
—Editor.
3 He was afterwards, for several years, chairman of the Middlesex Jus¬
tices, 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 volumes in quarto. By assiduous attendance upon Johnson in his
last illness, he obtained the office of one of his executors ; in consequence
of which, the booksellers of London employed him to publish an edition of
Dr. Johnson's Works, and to write his Life.
KEM UiKABLK CHARACTERS WHO WERE AT TUNBR1DGE WELLS WITH RICHARDSON IN 1748.FROM A DRAWING IN HIS POSSESSION WITH REFERENCES IN HIS OWN WRITING.
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JET. 40.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
147
Existence. The Bishop of Dromore heard Dr. Johnson say,
that he thought this was the best thing he ever wrote.1
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.2 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 this 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 upon 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 probably should give
more, for he had them all in his head : by which I understood,
that he had the originals and correspondent allusions floating
in his mind, which he could, when he pleased, embody and
render permanent without much labour. Some of them, how¬
ever, he observed, were too gross for imitation.
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
fame was established, he got for his "Vanity of Human
Wishes " but five guineas more, as is proved by an authentic
document in my possession.3
It will be observed, that he reserves to himself the right of
1 The Bishop told Mr. Tyers, that Johnson composed it, in one night,
after finishing an evening at Holborn.—Croker.
2 Sir John Hawkins, with solemn inaccuracy, represents this poem as a
consequence of the indifferent reception of his tragedy. But the fact is,
that the poem was published on the 9th of January, and the tragedy was
not acted till the 6th of the February following.
3 " Nov. 25. 1748, I received of Mr. Dodsley fifteen guineas, for which
I assign to him the right of copy of an Imitation of the Tenth Satire of
Juvenal, written by me, reserving to myself the right of printing one
edition. Sam. Johnson."—London 29 June 1786. "A true copy, from
the original in Dr. Johnson's handwriting, Jas. Dodsley."
148
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1749.
printing one edition of this satire, which was his practice upon
occasion of the sale of all his writings ; it being his fixed in¬
tention to publish at some period, for his own profit, a com¬
plete collection of his works.
His "Vanity of Human Wishes" has less of common life,
but more of a philosophic dignity, than his " London." More
readers, therefore, will be delighted with the pointed spirit
of " London," than with the profound reflection of " The
Vanity of Human Wishes." 1 Garrick, for instance, observed,
in his sprightly manner, with more vivacity than regard to just
discrimination, as is usual with wits, "When Johnson lived
much with the Herveys, and saw a good deal of what was pass¬
ing in life, he wrote his ' London,' which is lively and easy:
when he became more retired he gave us his 'Vanity of
Human Wishes,' which is as hard as Greek: had he gone
on to imitate another satire, it would have been as hard as
Hebrew.'"2
But " The Vanity of Human Wishes " is, in the opinion of
the best judges, as high an effort of ethic poetry as any language
can show. The instances of variety of disappointment are
chosen so judiciously, and painted so strongly, that, the moment
they are read, they bring conviction to every thinking mind.
That of the scholar3 must have depressed the too sanguine
1 Jan. 9. 1821. Read Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes,—all the
examples and mode of giving them sublime, as well as the latter part,
with the exception of an occasional couplet. I do not so much admire
the opening.—The first line, " Let observation," &c., is certainly heavy
and useless. But 'tis a grand poem—and so true /—true as the Tenth of
Juvenal himself. The lapse of ages changes all things—time—language—
the earth—the bounds of the sea—the stars of the sky, and everything
" about, around, and underneath" man, except man himself who has
always been, and always will be, an unlucky rascal. The infinite variety
of lives conduct but to death, and the infinity of wishes lead but to dis¬
appointment.^—Byron, vol. v., p. 66.— Wright.
2 From Mr. Langton.
3 Mrs. Piozzi tells us, that, one day, reading his own Satire, in which
the life of a scholar is painted, with the various obstructions thrown in his
way to fortune and to fame, Johnson burst into a passion of tears. Anec¬
dotes, p. 50.—Editor.
ALT. 40.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON,
149
expectations of many an ambitious student.1 That of the
warrior, Charles of Sweden, is, I think, as highly finished a
picture as can possibly be conceived.
Were all the other excellencies of this poem annihilated, it
must ever have our grateful reverence from its noble conclu¬
sion ; in which we are consoled with the assurance that hap¬
piness may be attained, if we " apply our hearts " to piety :
"Where then shall hope and fear their objects find?
Shall dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind ?
1 In this poem one of the instances mentioned of unfortunate learned
men is Lydiat:—
" Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end."
The history of Lydiat being little known, the following account of him
may be acceptable to many of my readers. It appeared as a note in the
Supplement to the Gentleman's Magazine for 1748, in which some pas¬
sages extracted from Johnson's poem were inserted, and it should have
been added in the subsequent editions :
"A very learned divine and mathematician, Fellow of New College,
Oxon, and Rector of Okerton, near Banbury. He wrote, among many
others, a Latin treatise, De natura coeli, &*c., in which he attacked the
sentiments of Scaliger and Aristotle, not bearing to hear it urged, that
some things are true in philosophy, and false in divinity. He made above
600 Sermons on the harmony of the Evangelists. Being unsuccessful in
publishing his works, he lay in the prison of Bocardo, at Oxford, and in
the King's Bench, till Bishop Usher, Dr. Laud, Sir William Boswell, and
Dr. Pink, released him by paying his debts. He petitioned King Charles
I. to be sent into Ethiopia, &c., to procure MSS. Having spoken in
favour of monarchy and bishops, he was plundered by the parliament
forces, and twice carried away prisoner from his rectory ; and afterwards
had not a shirt to shift him in three months, without he borrowed it, and
died very poor in 1646."
In 1609 Lydiat accompanied Usher into Ireland, and obtained (pro¬
bably by his interest) the office of chapel-reader in Trinity College, Dub¬
lin, at a salary of £3 6s. 8d. per quarter : he was resident there about
two years : and in March, 1612, it appears that he had from the College,
" ^5 to furnish him for his journey to England." The remembrance of
Lydiat was traditionally preserved in Dublin College ; and I recollect to
have heard, about 1796, that, in some ancient buildings, just then removed,
Lydiat had resided—evidence, either that he had left a high reputation
behind him, or, more probably, that Johnson's mention of him had revived
the memory of his sojourn in that university.—Croker.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1749.
Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate ?
Shall no dislike alarm, no wishes rise,
* .
No cries attempt the mercy of the skies?
Inquirer,1 cease; petitions yet remain,
Which Heaven may hear, nor deem Religion vain.
Still raise for good the supplicating voice,
But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice.
Safe in His hand, whose eye discerns afar
The secret ambush of a specious prayer;
Implore His aid, in His decisions rest,
Secure, whate'er He gives, He gives the best:
Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires,
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions, and a will resign'd;
For love, which scarce collective man can fill;
For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith, which panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind Nature's signal for retreat:
These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain,
These goods He grants, who grants the power to gain;
With these celestial wisdom calms the mind,
And makes the happiness she does not find."
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 bene¬
volent 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 revised 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 interpose. Johnson
1 In the first, second, and third editions, Boswell has the reading, " En¬
thusiast, cea.se."—Editor.
JET. 40. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 151
was at first very obstinate. " Sir," said he, " the fellow wants
me to make Mahomet run mad, that he may have an oppor¬
tunity of tossing his hands and kicking his heels."1 He
was, however, at last, with difficulty, prevailed 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
curtain drew up, there were catcalls, whistling, which alarmed
Johnson's friends. The Prologue, which was written by him¬
self in a manly strain, soothed the audience,2 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 bowstring 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. The Epi¬
logue, as Johnson informed me, was written by Sir William
1 Mahomet was in fact played by Mr. Barry, and Demetrius by Mr.
Garrick : but probably at this time the parts were not yet cast.
2 The expression used by Dr. Adams was " soothed." I should rather
think the audience was awed by the extraordinary spirit and dignity of
the following lines :—
" Be this at least his praise, be this his pride,
To force applause no modern arts are tried :
Should partial catcalls all his hopes confound,
He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound;
Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit,
He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit:
No snares to captivate the judgment spreads,
Nor bribes your eyes, to prejudice your heads.
Unmov'd, though witlings sneer and rivals rail,
Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail,
He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain,,
With merit needless, and without it vain ;
In Reason, Nature, Truth, he dares to trust;
Ye fops, be silent, and ye wits, be just! "
152
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1749-
Yonge.1 I know not how his play came to be thus graced by
the pen of a person then so eminent in the political world.
Notwithstanding all the support of such performers as
Garrick, Barry, Mrs. Cibber, Mrs. Pritchard, and every advan¬
tage of dress and decoration, the tragedy of " Irene" did
not please the public. Mr. Garrick's zeal carried it through
for nine nights, so that the author had his three nights' profit;
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 re¬
servation of the right of one edition.2
" Irene," considered as a poem, is entitled to the praise of
superior excellence. Analysed into parts, it will furnish a rich
1 The Right Honourable Sir William Yonge, Secretary at War, in Sir
Robert Walpole's administration, and a distinguished parliamentary-
speaker.—Croker.
2 Mr. Murphy in his Life of Johnson, p. 53, says, "The amount of the
three benefit nights for the tragedy of Irene, it is to be feared, were not
very considerable, as the profit, that stimulating motive, never invited the
author to another dramatic attempt."
On the word "profit," the late Mr. Isaac Reed in his copy of that life,
which I purchased at the sale of his library, has added a manuscript note,
containing the following receipts on Johnson's three benefit nights.
£ s. d.
3rd night's receipt 177 1 6
6th „ „ 106 4 o
9th „ „ . . . . . 101 11 6
Charges of the House
Profit ....
He also received for the copy
^384
17
0
189
0
0
£l9S
17
0
100
0
0
In all £29S l7 0
In a preceding page (52) Mr. Murphy says, " Irene was acted at Drury
Lane on Monday, Feb. 6th, and from that time without interruption to
Monday, Feb. 20th, being in all thirteen nights."
On this Mr. Reed somewhat indignantly has written:—" This is false.
It was acted only nine nights, and never repeated afterwards. Mr. Murphy,
in making the above calculation, includes both the Sundays and Lent
days."—A. Chalmers.
JET. 40.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
153
store of noble sentiments, fine imagery, and beautiful language;
but it is deficient in pathos, in that delicate power of touching
the human feelings, which is the principal end of the drama.1
Indeed, Garrick has complained to me, that Johnson not only-
had not the faculty of producing the impressions of tragedy,
but that he had not the sensibility to perceive them. His
great friend Mr. Walmsley's prediction, that he would " turn
out a fine tragedy writer," was, therefore, ill-founded. John¬
son was wise enough to be convinced that he had not the
talents necessary to write successfully for the stage, and never
made another attempt in that species of composition.
When asked how he felt upon the ill success of his tragedy,
he replied, " Like the Monument;" meaning that he con¬
tinued firm and unmoved as that column. And let it be re¬
membered, as an admonition to the genus irritabile of dramatic
writers, that this great man, instead of previously complain¬
ing of the bad taste of the town, submitted to its decision
without a murmur. He had, indeed, upon all occasions, a
great deference for the general opinion: " A man," said he,
" who writes a book, thinks himself wiser or wittier than the
rest of mankind; he supposes that he can instruct or amuse
them, and the public to whom he appeals must, after all, be
the judges of his pretensions."
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 therefore
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 neces-
1 Aaron Hill (vol. ii., p. 355), in a letter to Mr. Mallet, gives the follow¬
ing account of Irene :—" I was at the anomalous Mr. Johnson's benefit,
and found the play his proper representative ; strong sense, ungraced by-
sweetness or decorum."
154
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750.
sary attendance while his play was in rehearsal, and during its
performance, brought him acquainted with many of the per¬
formers of both sexes, which produced a more favourable
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 considerable 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. Mr. David Hume
related to me from Mr. Garrick, that Johnson at last denied
himself this amusement, from considerations of rigid virtue;
saying, " I'll come no more behind your scenes, David ; for
the silk stockings and white bosoms of your actresses excite
my amorous propensities."
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 periodical
paper, which he knew had been, upon former occasions, em¬
ployed 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. A few
days before the first of his Essays came out, there started
another competitor for fame in the same form, under the title
of "The Tatler Revived," which, I believe, was "born but to
die." Johnson was, I think, not very happy in the choice of
his title, "The Rambler," which certainly is not suited to a
series of grave and moral discourses ; which the Italians have
literally, but ludicrously translated by II Vagabondo; and
which has been lately assumed as the denomination of a
vehicle of licentious tales, "The Rambler's Magazine." He
gave Sir Joshua Reynolds the following account of its getting
this name : " What must be done, sir, will be done. When I
was to begin publishing that paper, I was at a loss how to
i^ET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
155
name it. I sat down at night upon my bedside, and resolved
that I would not go to sleep till I had fixed its title. The
Rambler seemed the best that occurred, and I took it."1
With what devout and conscientious sentiments this paper
was undertaken, is evidenced by the following prayer, which
he composed and offered up on the occasion :—•
" Almighty God, the giver of all good things, without whose help
all labour is ineffectual, and without whose grace all wisdom is folly :
grant, I beseech Thee, that in this undertaking Thy Holy Spirit may
not be withheld from me, but that I may promote Thy glory, and the
salvation of myself and others : grant this, O Lord, for the sake of Thy
Son, Jesus Christ. Amen."—Pr. and Med., p. 9.
The first paper of the " Rambler " was published on Tuesday
the 20th off March, 1750; and its author was enabled to con¬
tinue it, without interruption, every Tuesday and Saturday,
till Saturday the 17th of March, 1752, on which day it closed.2
This is a strong confirmation of the truth of a remark of his,
which I have had occasion to quote elsewhere,3 that " a man
may write at any time, if he will set himself doggedly to it;"
for, notwithstanding his constitutional indolence, his depression
of spirits, and his labour in carrying on his Dictionary, he
answered the stated calls of the press twice a week from the
1 I have heard Dr. Warton mention that he was at Mr. Robert Dodsley's
with the late Mr. Moore, and several of his friends, considering what
should be the name of the periodical paper which Moore had undertaken.
Garrick proposed the Salad, which, by a curious coincidence, was after¬
wards applied to himself by Goldsmith:—
" Our Garrick's a salad, for in him we see
Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree !"
At last, the company having separated, without anything of which they
approved having been offered, Dodsley himself thought of The World.
2 This is a mistake, into which the author was very pardonably led by
the inaccuracy of the original folio edition of the Rambler, in which the
concluding paper of that work is dated on " Saturday, March 17." But
Saturday was in fact the fourteenth of March. This circumstance, though
it may at first appear of very little importance, is yet worth notice : for
Mrs. Johnson died on the 17th of March.—Malone.
3 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, third edition, p. 28.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750.
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. Catherine Talbot; No. 97,
by Mr. Samuel Richardson, whom he describes in an intro¬
ductory note, as " an author who has enlarged the knowledge of
human nature, and taught the passions to move at the com¬
mand of virtue ; " 1 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 laboured 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
1 Lady Bradshaigh, one of Mr. Richardson's female sycophants, thus
addresses him on the subject of this letter:—"A few days ago I was
pleased with hearing a very sensible lady greatly pleased with the Ram¬
bler, No. 97. She happened to be in town when it was published; and I
asked if she knew who was the author ? She said, it was supposed to be one
who was concerned in the Spectators, it being much better written than
any of the Ramblers. I wanted to say who was really the author, but
durst not without your permission."—Richardson!s Correspondence, vol. vi.,
p. 108. It was probably on some such authority that Mr. Payne told Mr.
Chalmers (Brit. Ess., vol. xix., p. 14), that N0. 97 was " the only paper which
had a prosperous sale, and was popular." The flatteries which Richard¬
son's coterie lavished on him and all his works were quite extravagant :
the paper is rather a poor one.
Mrs. Piozzi (Anecdotes, p. 49-50), says, "the papers contributed by
Mrs. Carter had much of Johnson's esteem, though he always blamed me
for preferring the letter signed Charlessa (No. 100), to the allegory (No.
45), where religion and superstition are, indeed, most masterly delineated."
She adds that "the fine Rambler on Procrastination [No. 134] was hastily
composed in Sir Joshua Reynolds's parlour, while the boy waited to carry
it to the press, and numberless are the instances of his writing under the
immediate pressure of importunity or distress." But this must be a mis¬
take; Johnson and Reynolds were not acquainted till after the conclu¬
sion of the Rambler. It may have been some paper in the Idler.—
Croker.
JET. 41. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 157
ever ready at his call, and which he had constantly accustomed
himself to clothe in the most apt and energetic expression.
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.1
Yet, he was not altogether unprepared as a periodical writer:
for I have in my possession a small duodecimo volume, in
which he has written, in the form of Mr. Locke's " Common-
Place Book," a variety of hints for essays on different subjects.
He has marked upon the first blank leaf of it, "To the 128th
page, collections for the ' Rambler ;'" and in another place,
"In fifty-two there were seventeen provided; in 97—21 ; in
190—25." At a subsequent period (probably after the work
was finished) he added, " In all, taken of provided materials,
30." 2
Sir John Hawkins, who is unlucky upon all occasions, tells
us, that " this method of accumulating intelligence had been
practised by Mr. Addison, and is humorously described in one
of the ' Spectators ' (No. 46), wherein he feigns to have dropped
his paper of notanda, consisting of a diverting medley of
broken sentences and loose hints, which he tells us he had col¬
lected, and meant to make use of. Much of the same kind is
1 The rule which Dr. Johnson observed is sanctioned by the authority
of two great writers of antiquity: " Ne id quidem tacendum est, quod
eidem Ciceroni placet, nullum nostrum usquam negligentem esse sermo-
nem : quicquid loquemur, ubicunque, sit pro sua scilicet, portione perfec-
tumQuinctil. x. 7.—Malone. We know that Johnson most elaborately
revised and extensively corrected the Rambler when he collected them
into volumes ; but this does not disprove Mr. BoswelPs account of the
celerity and ease with which they were originally written.—Croker.
2 This, no doubt, means that, of the first 52 Ramblers, 17 had been
prepared, and so on, till, at the completion of the whole 208 numbers, he
i58
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750.
Johnson's 'Adversaria.' "x But the truth is, that there is no re¬
semblance at all between them. Addison's note was a fiction,
in which unconnected fragments of his lucubrations were pur¬
posely jumbled together, in as odd a manner as he could, in
order to produce a laughable effect: whereas, Johnson's ab¬
breviations are all distinct, and applicable to each subject of
which the head is mentioned.
For instance, there is the following specimen :
Youth's Entry, &*c.
" Baxter's account of things in which he had changed his mind as
he grew up. Voluminous.—No wonder.—If every man was to tell,
or mark, on how many subjects he has changed, it would make vols,
but the changes not always observed by man's self.—From pleasure
to bus. [business] to quiet; from though tfulness to reflect, to piety;
from dissipation to domestic, by impercept. gradat. but the change is
certain. Dial non progredi, progress, esse conspicimus. Look back,
consider what was thought at some dist. period.
" Hope predom. in youth. Mind not willingly indulges unpleasing
thoughts. The world lies all enamelled before him, as a distant
prospect sungilt;2—inequalities only found by coming to it. Love is
to be all joy—children excellent—Fame to be constant—caresses of the
great—applauses of the learned—smiles of Beauty.
" Fear of disgrace—Bashfulness—Finds things of less importance.
Miscarriages forgot like excellencies;—if remembered, of no import.
Danger of sinking into negligence of reputation;—lest the fear of dis¬
grace destroy activity.
" Confidence in himself. Long tract of life before him.—No thought
of sickness.—Embarrassment of affairs.—Distraction of family. Public
calamities.—No sense of the prevalence of bad habits. Negligent of
time—ready to undertake—careless to pursue—all changed by time.
" Confident of others—unsuspecting as unexperienced—imagining
himself secure against neglect, never imagines they will venture to
treat him ill. Ready to trust; expecting to be irusted. Convinced
found that only 30 had been formed of materials previously provided.—
Croker.
1 Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 268.
2 This most beautiful image of the enchanting delusion of youthful pros¬
pect has not been used in any of Johnson's essays.
^ET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
159
by time of the selfishness, the meanness, the cowardice, the treachery
of men.
"Youth ambitious, as thinking honours easy to be had.
" Different kinds of praise pursued at different periods. Of the gay
in youth.—dang, hurt, &c. despised.
" Of the fancy in manhood. Ambit.—stocks—bargains.—Of the
wise and sober in old age—seriousness—formality—maxims, but
general—only of the rich, otherwise age is happy—but at last every
thing referred to riches—no having fame, honour, influence, without
subjection to caprice.
" Horace.
" Hard it would be if men entered life with the same views with
which they leave it, or left as they enter it.—No hope—no under¬
taking—no regard to benevolence—no fear of disgrace, &c.
" Youth to be taught the piety of age—age to retain the honour of
youth."
This, it will be .observed, is the sketch of Number 196 of
the " Rambler." I shall gratify my readers with another
specimen:—
" Confederacies difficult; why.
" Seldom in war a match for single persons—nor in peace; there¬
fore kings make themselves absolute. Confederacies in learning—
every great work the work of one. Bruy. Scholars' friendship like
ladies'. Scribebamus, &c. Mart. The apple of discord—the laurel
of discord—the poverty of criticism. Swift's opinion of the power of
six geniuses united. That union scarce possible. His remarks just;
—man a social, not steady nature. Drawn to man by words,
repelled by passions. Orb drawn by attraction, rep. [repelled'] by
centrifugal.
" Common danger unites by crushing other passions—but they
return. Equality hinders compliance. Superiority produces insolence
and envy. Too much regard in each to private interest;—too little.
" The mischiefs of private and exclusive societies—The fitness of
social attraction diffused through the whole. The mischiefs of too
partial love of our country. Contraction of moral duties.—J <pi\oi,
bv (piXoQ.
" Every man moves upon his own centre, and therefore repels
others from too near a contact, though he may comply with some
general laws.
i6o boswell's life of johnson. 1750.
" Of confederacy with superiors every one knows the incon¬
venience. With equals, no authority ;—every man his own opinion
—his own interest.
" Man and wife hardly united;—scarce ever without children.
Computation, if two to one against two, how many against five ? If
confederacies were easy—useless ;—many oppresses many.—If pos¬
sible only to some, dangerous. Principum amicitias."
Here we see the embryo of Number 45 of the " Adven¬
turer ; " and it is a confirmation of what I shall presently have
occasion to mention, that the papers in that collection marked
T. were written by Johnson.
This scanty preparation of materials will not, however, much
diminish our wonder at the extraordinary fertility of his mind ;
for the proportion which they bear to the number of essays
which he wrote, is very small ; and it is remarkable, that those
for which he had made no preparation, are as rich and as
highly finished, as those for which the hints were lying by him.
It is also to be observed, that the papers formed from his hints
are worked up with such strength and elegance, that we almost
lose sight of the hints, which become like " drops in the
bucket." Indeed, in several instances, he has made a very
slender use of them, so that many of them remain still un¬
applied.1
As the "Rambler" was entirely the work of one man, there
was, of course, such a uniformity in its texture, as very much
1 Sir John Hawkins has selected from this little collection of materials,
what he calls the " Rudiments of two of the papers of the Rambler." But
he has not been able to read the manuscript distinctly. Thus he writes,
Life of Johnson, p. 266, " Sailor's fate any mansion ; " whereas the origi¬
nal is, "Sailor's life my aversion." He has also transcribed (p. 268, note)
the unappropriated hints on ' Writers for bread," in which he decyphers
these notable passages, one in Latin, fatui non fames, instead of fami non
famcE; Johnson having in his mind what Thuanus says of the learned Ger¬
man antiquary and linguist, Xylander, who, he tells us, lived in such
poverty, that he was supposed fami non fames scribere; and another in
French, Degente de fatu et affame d'argent, instead of Degoute de fame (an
old word for renommee), et affame d'argent. The manuscript, being written
in an exceedingly small hand, is, indeed, very hard to read ; but it would
have been better to have left blanks than to write nonsense.
JET. 41. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. l6l
to exclude the charm of variety; and the grave and often
solemn cast of thinking, which distinguished it from other
periodical papers, made it, for some time, not generally liked.
So slowly did this excellent work, of which twelve editions
have now issued from the press, gain upon the world at large,
that even in the closing number the author says, " I have
never been much a favourite of the public."1
Yet, very soon after its commencement, there were who felt
and acknowledged its uncommon excellence. Verses in its
praise appeared in the newspapers ; and the editor of the
" Gentleman's Magazine" mentions, in October, his having
received several letters to the same purpose from the learned.
" The Student, or Oxford and Cambridge Miscellany," in
which Mr. Bonnel Thornton and Mr. Colman 2 were the prin¬
cipal writers, describes it as " a work that exceeds any thing
of the kind ever published in this kingdom, some of the
'Spectators' excepted,— if indeed they may be excepted."
And afterwards, "May the public favours crown his merits,
and may not the English, under the auspicious reign of George
the Second, neglect a man, who, had he lived in the first
century, would have been one of the greatest favourites of
Augustus." This flattery of the monarch had no effect. It
is too well known, that the second George never was an
Augustus to learning or genius.3
1 The Ramblers, certainly, were little noticed at first. Smart, the
poet, first mentioned them to me as excellent papers, before I had heard
any one else speak of them. When I went into Norfolk, in the autumn of
1751, I found but one person (the Rev. Mr. Squires, a man of learning,
and a general purchaser of new books) who knew any thing of them.
Before I left Norfolk, in the year 1760, the Ramblers were in high
favour among persons of learning and good taste. Others there were,
devoid of both, who said that the hard words in the Rambler were
used by the author to render his Dictionary indispensably necessary.—
Burney.
2 I doubt if Colman wrote in this work. Smart was the principal con¬
tributor, and T. Warton a very considerable one.—A. Chalmers.
3 Richardson, the author of Clarissa, to whom Cave had sent the first
five numbers of the Rambler, became, as they proceeded, " so inexpres¬
sibly pleased with them," that he wrote to Cave in strong commendation,
M
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750.
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,
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;" and, being so near, its
effect is most sensible and permanent.
and intimated his conviction (the name of the author being still a secret),
that Johnson was the only man who could write them. Cave, in his
answer, dated " St. John's Gate, August 23, 1750," says :—
" Excuse this ramble from the purpose of your letter. I return to answer,
that Mr. Johnson is the Great Rambler, being, as you observe, the only
man who can furnish two such papers in a week, besides his other great
business, and has not been assisted with above three. I may discover to
you, that the world is not so kind to itself as you wish it. The encourage¬
ment, as to sale, is not in proportion to the high character given to the
work by the judicious, not to say the raptures expressed by the few that
do read it; but its being thus relished in numbers gives hopes that the
sets must go off, as it is a fine paper, and, considering the late hour of
having the copy, tolerably printed.
" When the author was to be kept private (which was the first scheme),
two gentlemen, belonging to the Prince's court, came to me to inquire his
name, in order to do him service ; and also brought a list of seven gentle¬
men to be served with the Rambler. As I was not at liberty, an in¬
ference was drawn, that I was desirous to keep to myself so excellent a
writer. Soon after Mr. Doddington [afterwards Lord Melcombe] sent a
letter directed to the Rambler, inviting him to his house, when he should
be disposed to enlarge his acquaintance. In a subsequent number a kind
of excuse was made, with a hint that a good writer might not appear to
advantage in conversation. Since that time several circumstances, and
Mr. Garrick and others, who knew the author's powers and style from the
first, unadvisedly asserting their (but) suspicions, overturned the scheme
of secrecy. (About which there is also one paper.)
" I have had letters of approbation from Dr. Young, Dr. Hartley, Dr.
Sharp, Miss Carter, &c. &c., most of them, like you, setting them in a
rank equal, and some superior, to the Spectators (of which I have
not read many, for the reasons which you assign) : but, notwithstand¬
ing such recommendation, whether the price of twopence, or the un¬
favourable season of their first publication, hinders the demand, no boast
can be made of it. The author (who thinks highly of your writings) is
JET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
163
Mr. James Elphinston,1 who has since published various
works, and who was ever esteemed by Johnson as a worthy-
man, happened to be in Scotland while the " Rambler" was
coming out in single papers at London. With a laudable zeal
at once for the improvement of his countrymen, and the repu¬
tation of his friend, he suggested and took the charge of an
edition of those Essays at Edinburgh, which followed pro¬
gressively the London publication.2
The following letter, written at this time, though not dated,
will show how much pleased Johnson was with this publication,
and what kindness and regard he had for Mr. Elphinston.
TO MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON.
[No date.]
" Dear Sir,
" I cannot but confess the failures of my correspondence;
but hope the same regard which you express for me on every other
obliged to you for contributing your endeavours ; and so is, for several
marks of your friendship, good Sir, your admirer, and very humble ser¬
vant," &c. &c.
The two Ramblers alluded to are probably Nos. 14 and 13. Richard¬
son had said, in his letter to Cave, " I remember not any thing in those
Spectators that I read, for I never found time to read them all, that half
so much struck me." It seems very strange that men of literary habits,
like Richardson and Cave, should have read the Spectator so imper¬
fectly. It is the stranger, with regard to Richardson, for his only paper in
the Rambler (No. 97) is written in the character of a professed admirer
of the Spectator.—Sroker.
1 Mr. James Elphinston was born in Edinburgh, in 1721. He, when
very young, was a private tutor in two or three eminent families : but
about 1752 set up a boarding-school at Kensington, where Dr. Johnson
sometimes visited him. He died at Hammersmith in 1809. His works
are forgotten, or remembered for their absurdity. He translated Martial,
of which Dr. Beattie says, " It is truly an unique—the specimens formerly
published did very well to laugh at ; but a whole quarto of nonsense and
gibberish is too much. It is strange that a man not wholly illiterate should
have lived so long in England without learning the language."—And it
was, no doubt, of this strange work that Mrs. Piozzi relates (Anecdotes,
p. 61), that "of a modern Martial, when it came out, Dr. Johnson said
there are in these verses too much folly for madness, I think, and too much
madness for folly."—Croker.
2 It was executed in the printing-office of Sands, Murray, and Cochran,
164
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750-
occasion, will incline you to forgive me. I am often, very often, ill;
and, when I am well, am obliged to work: and, indeed, have never
much used myself to punctuality. You are, however, not to make
unkind inferences, when I forbear to reply to your kindness ; for, be
assured, I never receive a letter from you without great pleasure, and
a very warm sense of your generosity and friendship, which I heartily
blame myself for not cultivating with more care. In this, as in many
other cases, I go wrong, in opposition to conviction; for I think
scarce any temporal good equally to be desired with the regard and
familiarity of worthy men. I hope we shall be some time nearer
to each other, and have a more ready way of pouring out our hearts.
" I am glad that you still find encouragement to proceed in your
publication; and shall beg the favour of six more volumes to add to
my former six, when you can, with any convenience, send them me.
Please to present a set, in my name, to Mr. Ruddiman,1 of whom, I
hear, that his learning is not his highest excellence. I have tran¬
scribed the mottos, and returned them, I hope not too late, of which
I think many very happily performed. Mr. Cave has put the last in
with uncommon elegance, upon writing paper, of a duodecimo size, and
with the greatest correctness : and Mr. Elphinston enriched it with trans¬
lations of the mottos. When completed, it made eight handsome volumes.
It is, unquestionably, the most accurate and beautiful edition of this work ;
and there being but a small impression, it is now become scarce, and sells
at a very high price.
With respect to the correctness of this edition, the author probably
derived his information from some other person, and appears to have been
misinformed ; for it was not accurately printed, as we learn from Mr. A.
Chalmers.—J. Boswell.
Here is a slight misunderstanding. Elphinston's edition was correctly
printed after the original folio numbers as they came out. Mr. Chalmers
denies its accuracy, because it had not the various corrections subsequently
made by Johnson when he republished the Rambler in volumes.—
Croker.
1 Mr. Thomas Ruddiman, the learned grammarian of Scotland, well
known for his various excellent works, and for his accurate editions of
several authors. He was also a man of the most worthy private character.
His zeal for the Royal House of Stuart did not render him less estimable
in Dr. Johnson's eye.
Ruddiman, born in Oct., 1674, in the parish of Boyndie, Banffshire,
the best Latin scholar Scotland had produced since Buchanan, died in
Edinburgh, 1757, in his eighty-third year. He held the office of librarian
of the Advocates' Library ; and on his resignation of that office was suc¬
ceeded by David Hume.—Editor.
ALT. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
the Magazine, in which I think he did well. I beg of you to write
soon, and to write often, and to write long letters, which I hope in
time to repay you; but you must be a patient creditor. I have,
however, this of gratitude, that I think of you with regard, when I do
not, perhaps, give the proofs which I ought, of being, Sir, your most
obliged and most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
This year he wrote to the same gentleman another letter
upon a mournful occasion.
TO MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON.
"September 25, 1750.
" Dear Sir,
" You have, as I find by every kind of evidence, lost an excel¬
lent mother; and I hope you will not think me incapable of par¬
taking of your grief. I have a mother, now eighty-two years of age,
whom, therefore, I must soon lose, unless it please God that she
should rather mourn for me. I read the letters in which you relate
your mother's death to Mrs. Strahan,1 and think I do myself honour,
when I tell you that I read them with tears; but tears are neither to
you nor to me of any further use, when once the tribute of nature has
been paid. The business of life summons us away from useless grief,
and calls us to the exercise of those virtues of which we are lamenting
our deprivation. The greatest benefit which one friend can confer
upon another is to guard, and excite, and elevate his virtues. This
your mother will still perform, if you diligently preserve the memory
of her life, and of her death: a life, so far as I can learn, useful, wise,
and innocent; and a death resigned, peaceful, and holy. I cannot
forbear to mention, that neither reason nor revelation denies you to
hope, that you may increase her happiness by obeying her precepts;
and that she may, in her present state, look with pleasure upon every
act of virtue to which her instructions or example have contributed.
Whether this be more than a pleasing dream, or a just opinion of
separate spirits, is, indeed, of no great importance to us, when we
consider ourselves as acting under the eye of God ; yet, surely, there
is something pleasing in the belief, that our separation from those
1 Sister to Mr. Elphinston, and wife of Mr. Strahan, the king's printer.
To this connection, Johnson was indebted for many of the most respectable
of his early acquaintance.—Croker.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750.
whom we love is merely corporeal; and it may be a great incite¬
ment to virtuous friendship, if it can be made probable, that that
union that has received the divine approbation shall continue to
eternity.
" There is one expedient by which you may, in some degree, con¬
tinue her presence. If you write down minutely what you remember
of her from your earliest years, you will read it with great pleasure,
and receive from it many hints of soothing recollection, when time
shall remove her yet farther from you, and your grief shall be matured
to veneration. To this, however painful for the present, I cannot but
advise you, as to a source of comfort and satisfaction in the time to
come; for all comfort and all satisfaction is sincerely wished you by,
dear Sir, your most obliged, most obedient, and most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
The "Rambler" has increased in fame as in age. Soon after
its first folio edition was concluded, it was published in six
duodecimo volumes;1 and its author lived to see ten nume¬
rous editions of it in London, besides those of Ireland and
Scotland.
I profess myself to have ever entertained a profound venera¬
tion for the astonishing force and vivacity of mind, which the
"Rambler " exhibits. That Johnson had penetration enough to
see, and seeing, would not disguise, the general misery of man
in this state of being, may have given rise to the superficial
notion of his being too stern a philosopher. But men of re¬
flection will be sensible that he has given a true representa¬
tion of human existence, and that he has, at the same time,
with a generous benevolence, displayed every consolation
1 This is not quite accurate. In the Gentleman's Magazine for Nov.,
1751, while the work was yet proceeding, is an advertisement, announcing
that four volumes of the Rambler would speedily be published; and it is
believed that they were published in the next month. The fifth and sixth
volumes, with tables of contents and translations of the mottos, were pub¬
lished in July, 1752, by Payne (the original publisher), three months after
the close of the work.
When the Rambler was collected into volumes, Johnson revised and
corrected it throughout. Mr. Boswell was not aware of this circumstance,
which has lately been discovered and accurately stated by Mr. Alexander
Chalmers in his edition of the British Essayists.—Malone.
JET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
167
which our state affords us ; not only those arising from the
hopes of futurity, but such as may be attained in the imme¬
diate progress through life. He has not depressed the soul to
despondency and indifference. He has everywhere inculcated
study, labour, and exertion. Nay, he has shown in a very
odious light, a man, whose practice is to go about darkening
the views of others, by perpetual complaints of evil, and
awakening those considerations of danger and distress, which
are, for the most part, lulled into a quiet oblivion. This he has
done very strongly in his character of Suspirius (No. 55),
from which Goldsmith took that of Croaker, in his comedy of
"The Good-natured Man," as Johnson told me he acknow¬
ledged to him,, and which is, indeed, very obvious.
To point out the numerous subjects which the "Rambler"
treats, with a dignity and perspicuity which are there united in
a manner which we shall in vain look for anywhere else, would
take up too large a portion of my book, and would, I trust, be
superfluous, considering how universally those volumes are
now disseminated. Even the most condensed and brilliant
sentences which they contain, and which have very properly
been selected under the name of " BEAUTIES," 1 are of con¬
siderable bulk.2 But I may shortly observe, that the " Rambler''
furnishes such an assemblage of discourses on practical religion
and moral duty, of critical investigations, and allegorical and
oriental tales, that no mind can be thought very deficient that
has, by constant study and meditation, assimilated to itself all
that may be found there. No. 7, written in Passion-week, on
1 Dr. Johnson was gratified by seeing this selection, and wrote to Mr.
Kearsley, bookseller in Fleet Street, the following note :—
" Mr. Johnson sends compliments to Mr. Kearsley, and begs the favour
of seeing him as soon as he can. Mr. Kearsley is desired to bring with
him the last edition of what he has honoured with the name of' Beauties.'
May 20, 1782."
2 The Beauties of Johnson consist of maxims and observations, moral,
critical, and miscellaneous, extracted from his various works, and arranged
in alphabetical order. This was followed by a second volume executed in
the same manner. Both were published by G. Kearsley, Fleet Street,
and passed through several editions.—Editor.
168 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1750.
abstraction and self-examination, and No. no, on penitence
and the placability of the Divine Nature, cannot be too often
read. No. 54, on the effect which the death of a friend should
have upon us, though rather too dispiriting, may be occasion¬
ally very medicinal to the mind. Every one must suppose the
writer to have been deeply impressed by a real scene; but he
told me that was not the case: which shows how well his fancy
could conduct him to the "house of mourning." Some of
these more solemn papers, I doubt not, particularly attracted
the notice of Dr. Young, the author of " The Night Thoughts,"
of whom my estimation is such, as to reckon his applause an
honour even to Johnson. I have seen volumes of Dr. Young's
copy of the " Rambler," in which he has marked the passages
which he thought particularly excellent, by folding down the
corner of the page : and such as he rated in a super-eminent
degree, are marked by double folds. I am sorry that some of
the volumes are lost. Johnson was pleased when told of the
minute attention with which Young had signified his approba¬
tion of his essays.
I will venture to say, that in no writings whatever can be
found more bark and steel for the mind, if I may use the Ex¬
pression; more that can brace and invigorate every manly and
noble sentiment. No. 32, on patience, even under extreme
misery, is wonderfully lofty, and as much above the rant of
stoicism, as the sun of Revelation is brighter than the twilight
of Pagan philosophy. I never read the following sentence
without feeling my frame thrill: " I think there is some
reason for questioning whether the body and mind are not so
proportioned, that the one can bear all which can be inflicted
on the other ; whether virtue cannot stand its ground a^s long
as life, and whether a soul well principled will not be sooner
separated than subdued."
Though instruction be the predominant purpose of the
"Rambler," yet it is enlivened with a considerable portion of
amusement. Nothing can be more erroneous than the notion
which some persons have entertained, that Johnson was then a
retired author, ignorant of the world ; and, of consequence,
^ET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
169
that he wrote only from his imagination, when he described
characters and manners. He said to me that, before he wrote
that work, he had been " running about the world," as he ex¬
pressed it, more than almost any body; and I have heard him
relate, with much satisfaction, that several of the characters in
the "Rambler" were drawn so naturally, that when it first
circulated in numbers, a club in one of the towns in Essex 1
imagined themselves to be severally exhibited in it, and were
much incensed against a person who, they suspected, had thus
made them objects of public notice; nor were they quieted till
authentic assurance was given them, that the " Rambler " was
written by a person who had never heard of any one of them.
Some of the characters are believed to have been actually
drawn from the life,2 particularly that of Prospero, from
Garrick, who never entirely forgave its pointed satire. For
instances of fertility of fancy, and accurate description of
real life, I appeal to No. 19, a man who wanders from one
profession to another, with most plausible reasons for every
change : No. 34, female fastidiousness and timorous refine¬
ment : No. 82, a Virtuoso who has collected curiosities : No.
88, petty modes of entertaining a company, and conciliating
kindness: No. 182, fortune-hunting: No. 194, 195, a tutor's
account of the follies of his pupil : No. 197, 198, legacy-
hunting. He has given a specimen of his nice observation of
the mere external appearances of life, in the following passage
in No. 179, against affectation, that frequent and most dis-
1 The story is given in Mrs. Piozzi's Anecdotes, p. 233-5.—Editor.
2 That of Gelidus, in No. 24, from Professor Colson, and that of
Euphues in the same paper, which, with many others, was doubtless drawn
from the life. Euphues, I once thought, might have been intended to re¬
present either Lord Chesterfield or Soame Jenyns ; but Mr. Bindley, with
more probability, thinks, that George Bubb Doddington, who was remark¬
able for the homeliness of his person, and the finery of his dress, was the
person meant under that character.—Malone.
Gelidus was certainly not meant for Professor Colson. The folly
of such guesses at characters is forcibly exemplified in Mr. Malone's
producing three such different candidates for that of Euphues, as Lord
Chesterfield, Soame Jenyns, and Bubb Doddington !—Croker.
170 boswell's life of johnson. 1750.
gusting quality: " He that stands to contemplate the crowds
that fill the streets of a populous city, will see many passen¬
gers, whose air and motions it will be difficult to behold
without contempt and laughter; but if he examine what are
the appearances that thus powerfully excite his risibility, he
will find among them neither poverty nor disease, nor any in¬
voluntary or painful defect. The disposition to derision and
insult is awakened by the softness of foppery, the swell of
insolence, the liveliness of levity, or the solemnity of grandeur;
by the sprightly trip, the stately stalk, the formal strut, and the
lofty mien; by gestures intended to catch the eye, and by looks
elaborately formed as evidences of importance." 1
Every page of the " Rambler " shows a mind teeming with
classical allusion and poetical imagery: illustrations from other
writers are, upon all occasions, so ready, and mingled so easily
in his periods, that the whole appears of one uniform vivid
texture.
The style of this work has been censured by some shallow
critics as involved and turgid, and abounding with antiquated
and hard words. So ill-founded is the first part of this objec¬
tion, that I will challenge all who may honour this book with
a perusal, to point out any English writer whose language
conveys his meaning with equal force and perspicuity.2 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 simpli¬
city of common life. But let us attend to what he himself says
1 Mrs. Piozzi (Anecdotes, p. 48) states that " of the allegorical papers
in the Rambler, Labour and Rest (No. 33) was Johnson's favourite ; but
Serotinus (No. 165), the man who returns late in life to receive honours in
his native country, and meets with mortification instead of respect, was
considered by him as a masterpiece in the science of life and manners."—
Croker.
s Yet his style did not escape the harmless shafts of pleasant humour ;
for the ingenious Bonnel Thornton published a mock Rambler in the
Drury Lane Journal.
JET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
171
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.1 This idle
charge has been echoed from one babbler to another, who
have confounded Johnson's Essays with Johnson's Dictionary;
1 Mr. Boswell's zeal carries him too far : Johnson's style, especially in
the Rambler, is frequently turgid, even to ridicule ; but he has been
sometimes censured with a malicious flippancy, which Boswell may be
excused for resenting ; and even graver critics have treated him with in¬
considerate injustice, for instance, the Rev. Dr. Burrowes (Fellow of
Trinity College, Dublin, and afterwards Dean of Cork), in an Essay on
the Style of Dr. Johnson, published in the first volume of the Transac¬
tions of the Royal Irish Academy (1787), observes :
"Johnson says, that he has rarely admitted any word not authorized by
former writers ; but where are we to seek authorities for 1 resuscitation,
orbity, volant, fatuity, divaricate, asinine, narcotic, vulnerary, empireu-
matic, papilionaceousand innumerable others of the same stamp, which
abound in and disgrace his pages ?—for ' obtund, disruption, sensory, or
panoplyall occurring in the short compass of a single essay in the
Rambler ?—or for ' cremation, horticulture, germination, and decussa¬
tion,' within a few pages in his ' Life of Browne ?' They may be found,
perhaps, in the works of former writers, but they make no part of the
English language. They are the illegitimate offspring of learning by
vanity." It is wonderful, that, instead of asking where these words were
to be found, Dr. Burrowes did not think of referring to Johnson's own
Dictionary. He would have found good authorities for almost every one
of them ; for instance, for resuscitation, Milton and Bacon ; for volant,
Milton and Phillips ; for fatuity, Arbuthnot; for asinine, Milton ; for
narcotic and vulnerary, Browne ; for germination, Bacon, and so on. But
although these authorities, which Dr. Burrowes might have found in the
Dictionary, are a sufficient answer to his question, let it be also observed,
that many of these words were in use in more familiar authors than
Johnson chose to quote, and that the majority of them are now become
familiar—which is a sufficient proof that the English language has not
considered them as illegitimate.
" For Use will father what's begot by Sense."—Pope.
—Croker.
172
boswell's life of johnson.
1750.
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 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 He once
told me, that he had formed his style upon that of Sir William
Temple, and upon Chambers's Proposal for his Dictionary.2
He certainly was mistaken ; or if he imagined at first that
he was imitating Temple, he was very unsuccessful ;3 for no¬
thing can be more unlike than the simplicity of Temple, and
the richness of Johnson. Their styles differ as plain cloth
and brocade. Temple, indeed, seems equally erroneous in
supposing that he himself had formed his style upon Sandys's
" View of the State of Religion in the Western Parts of the
World."
The style of Johnson was, undoubtedly, much formed upon
that of the great writers in the last century, Hooker, Bacon,
Sanderson, Hakewill, and others; those " Giants," as they
were well characterized by a great personage4 whose
1 Idler, No. 70.
2 Chambers's Proposal for a second edition of his Dictionary, was pro¬
bably in circulation when Johnson first came to London.—Malone.
3 See under April 9, 1778 ; where, in a conversation at Sir Joshua Rey¬
nolds's, Johnson himself mentions the particular improvements which
Temple made in the English style.-—Malone.
4 Here is an instance of the difficulty of explaining after a lapse of
time, circumstances once of great notoriety. My learned and excellent
friend, Bishop Elrington, desired me to " state that this Great Personage
was his late majesty, George III. Every one knows it now, but who will
know it fifty years hence ?" There is no doubt of the fact, that when on
some occasion the great divines of the eighteenth century were mentioned
in the king's presence, his majesty said, " Yes—there were Giants in those
days"-—in allusion to Genesis, vi., 4. But all my inquiries (and some of
his majesty's illustrious family have condescended to permit these in¬
quiries to extend even to them) have failed to ascertain to what person or
MT. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
173
authority, were I to name him, would stamp a reverence on
the opinion.1
We may, with the utmost propriety, apply to his learned
style that passage of Horace,2 a part of which he has taken as
the motto to his Dictionary:
" Cum tabulis animum censoris sumet honesti;
Audebit qucecumquepariim splendoris habebunt,
Et sine pondere erunt, et honore indigna ferentur,
Verba movere loco, quamvis invita recedant,
Et versentur adhuc intra penetralia Vestce.
Obscurata din populo bonus eruet, atque
Proferet in lucem speciosa vocabula return,
Quce. priscis memorata Catonibus atque Cethegis,
Nunc situs informis premit et deserta vetustas ;
Adsciscet nova, quce genitor produxerit itsus:
Vehemens, et liquidus, puroque simillimus amni,
Fundet opes Latiumque beabit divite lingua
To so great a master of thinking, to one of such vast and
various knowledge as Johnson, might have been allowed a
liberal indulgence of that licence which Horace 3 claims in
another place :
" Si forte necesse est
Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum,
Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis
Continget, dabiturque licentia sumpta pudenter ;
Et nova fictaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si
on what occasion that happy expression was used. Boswell, in his first
edition, attributed this anecdote to " one whose authority, &c. :" in his
subsequent editions he changed " one " into " a great personage."—
Croker.
1 Hawkins says, " Hooker he admired for his logical precision, Sander¬
son for his acuteness, and Taylor for his amazing erudition ; Sir Thomas
Browne for his penetration, and Cowley for the ease and unaffected
structure of his periods. The tinsel of Sprat disgusted him, and he
could but just endure the smooth verbosity of Tillotson. Hammond
and Barrow he thought involved ; and of the latter, that he was unneces¬
sarily prolix.—Life, p. 271.
2 Ep. ii. 2, 110-121.
3 Ars Poetica, 48-59.
174
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750.
Grtzco fonte cadent, parce detorta. Quid autem
Ccccilio Plautoque dabit Romanics ademptum
Virgilio Varioque ? Ego cur acquirere paucci
Si possum invideor, cum lingua Catonis et Enni
Ser??ionem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum
Nomina protulerit ? Licuit, semper que licebit
Signatum prcesente ?iota producere nomen."
Yet Johnson assured me, that he had not taken upon him
to add more than four or five words to the English language,
of his own formation ; and he was very much offended at
the general licence, by no means " modestly taken" in his
time, not only to coin new words, but to use many words
in senses quite different from their established meaning, and
those frequently very fantastical.
Sir Thomas Browne, whose Life Johnson wrote, was re¬
markably fond of Anglo-Latin diction ; and to his example
we are to ascribe Johnson's sometimes indulging himself in
this kind of phraseology.1 Johnson's comprehension of mind
was the mould for his language. Had his conceptions been
narrower, his expression would have been easier. His sen¬
tences have a dignified march ; and it is certain that his
example has given a general elevation to the language of
his country, for many of our best writers have approached
very near to him ; and, from the influence which he has had
upon our composition, scarcely any thing is written now that
is not better expressed than was usual before he appeared
to lead the national taste.
This circumstance, the truth of which must strike every
critical reader, has been so happily enforced by Mr. Courtenay,
in his "Moral and Literary Character of Dr. Johnson," that I
cannot prevail on myself to withhold it, notwithstanding his,
perhaps, too great partiality for one of his friends :
1 The observation of his having imitated Sir Thomas Browne has been
made by many people ; and lately it has been insisted on, and illustrated
by a variety of quotations from Browne, in one of the popular Essays
written by the Rev. Mr. Knox, master of Tunbridge-school, whom I have
set down in my list as one of those who have sometimes not unsuccessfully
imitated Dr. Johnson's style.
JET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LTFE OF JOHNSON.
175
" By nature's gifts ordain'd mankind to rule,
He, like a Titian, form'd his brilliant school;
And taught congenial spirits to excel,
While from his lips impressive wisdom fell.
Our boasted Goldsmith felt the sovereign sway :
From him derived the sweet, yet nervous lay.
To Fame's proud cliff he bade our Raphael rise :
Hence Reynolds' pen with Reynolds' pencil vies.
With Johnson's flame melodious Burney glows,
While the grand strain in smoother cadence flows.
And you, Malone, to critic learning dear,
Correct and elegant, refined though clear,
By studying him, acquired that classic taste,
Which high in Shakespeare's fane thy statue placed.
Near Johnson Steevens stands on scenic ground,
Acute, laborious, fertile, and profound.
Ingenious Hawkesworth to this school we owe,
And scarce the pupil from the tutor know.
Here early parts accomplish'd Jones sublimes,
And science blends with Asia's lofty rhymes :
Harmonious Jones ! who in his splendid strains
Sings Camdeo's sports, on Agra's flowery plains,
In Hindu fictions while we fondly trace
Love and the Muses, deck'd with Attic grace.
Amid these names can Boswell be forgot,
Scarce by North Britons now esteem'd a Scot?1
Who, to the sage devoted from his youth,
Imbibed from him the sacred love of truth ;
The keen research, the exercise of mind,
And that best art, the art to know mankind.—
1 The following observation in Mr. Boswell's Journal of a Tour to the
Hebrides may sufficiently account for that gentleman's being " now
scarcely esteemed a Scot" by many of his countrymen: "If he (Dr.
Johnson) was particularly prejudiced against the Scots, it was because
they were more in his way ; because he thought their success in England
rather exceeded the due proportion of their real merit; and because he
could not but see in them that nationality which, I believe, no liberal-
minded Scotchman will deny." Mr. Boswell, indeed, is so free from
national prejudices, that he might with equal propriety have been de¬
scribed as—
" Scarce by South Britons now esteemed a Scot."—Courtenay.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1750.
Nor was his energy confined alone
To friends around his philosophic throne ;
Its influence wide improved our letter1 d isle,
And lucid vigour mark'd the general style:
As Nile's proud waves, swoln from their oozy bed,
First o'er the neighbouring meads majestic spread ;
Till, gathering force, they more and more expand,
And with new virtue fertilise the land."
Johnson's language, however, must be allowed to be too
masculine for the delicate gentleness of female writing. His
ladies, therefore, seem strangely formal, even to ridicule ; and
are well denominated by the names which he has given them,
as Misella, Zozima, Properantia, Rhodoclia.1
It has of late been the fashion to compare the style of Addi¬
son and Johnson, and to depreciate, I think very unjustly, 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 in¬
sinuates his sentiments and tastes into their minds by an im¬
perceptible 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. Addison'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 in¬
considerable, who does not aim, in some degree, at the same
species of excellence. But let us not ungratefully under¬
value that beautiful style, which has pleasingly conveyed
to us much instruction and entertainment. Though compara-
1 Mr. Burke said pleasantly, that "his .ladies were all Johnsons in
petticoats."—Croker.
ALT. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
177
tively weak, opposed to Johnson's Herculean vigour, 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 ener¬
getic ; he is never rapid, and he never stagnates. His sen¬
tences have neither studied amplitude, nor affected brevity:
his periods, though not diligently rounded, are voluble and
easy.1 Whoever wishes to attain an English style, familiar,
but not coarse, and elegant, but not ostentatious, must give
his days and nights to the volumes of Addison."2
Though the "Rambler" was not concluded till the year
1752, I shall, under this year, say all that I have to ob¬
serve upon it. Some of the translations of the mottos by him¬
self, are admirably done. He acknowledges to have received
"elegant translations" of many of them from Mr. James
Elphinston ; and some are very happily translated by a Mr.
F. Lewis, of whom I never heard more, except that Johnson
thus described him to Mr. Malone: " Sir, he lived in London,
and hung loose upon society."3 The concluding paper of his
1 When Johnson showed me a proof sheet of the character of Addison,
in which he so highly extols his style, I could not help observing, that it
had not been his own model, as no two styles could differ more from each
other. " Sir, Addison had his style, and I have mine." When I ventured
to ask him, whether the difference did not consist in this, that Addison's
style was full of idioms, colloquial phrases, and proverbs ; and his own
more strictly grammatical, and free from such phraseology and modes of
speech as can never be literally translated or understood by foreigners ;
he allowed the discrimination to be just. Let any one who doubts it, try
to translate one of Addison's Spectators into Latin, French, or Italian ;
and though so easy, familiar, and elegant, to an Englishman, as to give
the intellect no trouble; yet he would find the transfusion into another
language extremely difficult, if not impossible. But a Rambler, Adven¬
turer, or Idler of Johnson, would fall into any classical or European
language, as easily as if it had been originally conceived in it.—Burney.
2 I shall probably, in another work, maintain the merit of Addison's
poetry, which has been very unjustly depreciated.
Mr. Boswell never, that I know of, executed this intention.—Croker.
3 In the Gentleman's Magazine for October, 1752, p. 468, he is styled
the Rev. Francis Lewis, of Chiswick. The late Lord Macartney, while
he resided at Chiswick, at my request, made some inquiry concerning
N
i/8
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I750.
" Rambler " is at once dignified and pathetic. I cannot, how¬
ever, but wish, that he had not ended it with an unnecessary
Greek verse,1 translated also into an English couplet. It is
too much like the conceit of those dramatic poets, who used
to conclude each act with a rhyme ; and the expression in
the first line of his couplet, " Celestial powers," though proper
in Pagan poetry, is ill suited to Christianity, with "a con¬
formity" to which he consoles himself. How much better
would it have been to have ended with the prose sentence, " I
shall never envy the honours which wit and learning obtain in
any other cause, if I can be numbered among the writers who
have given ardour to virtue, and confidence to truth."
His friend, Dr. Birch, being now engaged in preparing an
edition of Ralegh's smaller pieces, Dr. Johnson wrote the
following letter to that gentleman :
TO DR. BIRCH.
" Gough Square, May 12. 1750.
" Sir,
" Knowing that you are now preparing to favour the public
with a new edition of Ralegh's miscellaneous pieces, I have taken the
liberty to send you a manuscript, which fell by chance within my
notice. I perceive no proofs of forgery in my examination of it; and
the owner tells me, that, as he has heard, the hand-writing is Sir
Walter's. If you should find reason to conclude it genuine, it will be
a kindness to the owner, a blind person,2 to recommend it to the
booksellers. I am, sir, your most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
His just abhorrence of Milton's political notions was ever
strong. But this did not prevent his warm admiration of
him at that place, but no intelligence was obtained. The transla¬
tions supplied by Mr. Elphinston to the first thirty numbers of the
Rambler were published in the Gentleman's Magazine for September,
1750.—Malone.
1 A.vtCjv etc /Jiaicapwv avra^iog tirf d/xoifir}.
Celestial powers ! that piety regard,
From you my labours wait their last reward.
2 Mrs. Williams is probably the person meant.
-<ET. 41.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
179
Milton's great poetical merit, to which he has done illustrious
justice, beyond all who have written upon the subject. And
this year he not only wrote a Prologue, which was spoken by Mr.
Garrick before the acting of " Comus " at Drury Lane Theatre,
for the benefit of Milton's grand-daughter, but took a very
zealous interest in the success of the charity. On the day pre¬
ceding the performance, he published the following letter in
the " General Advertiser," addressed to the printer of that
paper:
" Sir,
" That a certain degree of reputation is acquired merely by
approving the works of genius, and testifying a regard to the memory
of authors, is a truth too evident to be denied; and therefore to en¬
sure a participation of fame with a celebrated poet, many, who would,
perhaps, have contributed to starve him when alive, have heaped ex¬
pensive pageants upon his grave.1
" It must, indeed, be confessed, that this method of becoming
known to posterity with honour, is peculiar to the great, or at least to
the wealthy; but an opportunity now offers for almost every indivi¬
dual to secure the praise of paying a just regard to the illustrious
dead, united with the pleasure of doing good to the living. To assist
industrious indigence, struggling with distress and debilitated by age,
is a display of virtue, and an acquisition of happiness and honour.
" Whoever, then, would be thought capable of pleasure in reading
the works of our incomparable Milton, and not so destitute of grati¬
tude as to refuse to lay out a trifle in rational and elegant entertain¬
ment, for the benefit of his living remains, for the exercise of their
own virtue, the increase of their reputation, and the pleasing con¬
sciousness of doing good, should appear at Drury Lane theatre to¬
morrow, April 5, when ' Comus ' will be performed for the benefit of
Mrs. Elizabeth Foster, grand-daughter to the author,2 and the only
surviving branch of his family.
" N.B. There will be a new prologue on the occasion, written by
1 Mr. Auditor Benson, in 1737, erected a monument to Milton in
Westminster Abbey, and did not omit to inscribe his own name on
it,—an ostentation which Pope satirises. See Dunciad, b. iii., 325 and
iv., no.—Croker.
2 She survived this benefit but three years, and died childless, 9th May,
1754. It is remarkable that none of our great, and few even of our
i8o
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
17 51.
the author of ' Irene,' and spoken by Mr. Garrick; and, by particular
desire, there will be added to the Masque a dramatic satire, called
' Lethe,' in which Mr. Garrick will perform." 1
In 1751 we are to consider him as carrying on both his
" Dictionary " and " Rambler." But he also wrote " The Life
of Cheynel,"* in the miscellany called "The Student;" and
the Rev. Dr. Douglas having, with uncommon acuteness,
clearly detected a gross forgery and imposition upon the public
by William Lauder, a Scotch schoolmaster, who had, with
equal impudence and ingenuity, represented Milton as a pla¬
giary from certain modern Latin poets, Johnson, who had been
so far imposed upon as to furnish a Preface and Postscript to
his work, now dictated a letter for Lauder, addressed to Dr.
Douglas, acknowledging his fraud in terms of suitable con¬
trition.2
second-rate poets, have left posterity—Shakespeare, Jonson, Otway, Mil¬
ton, Dryden, Rowe, Addison, Pope, Swift, Gay, Johnson, Goldsmith,
Cowper, have left no inheritors of their names.—Croker.
1 The assistance given was far from liberal. Tonson, the bookseller,
whose family had been enriched by the sale of the poet's writings, gave
twenty pounds, and Bishop Newton, his biographer, brought a large con¬
tribution ; but all their efforts, joined to the allurements of Johnson's pen
and Garrick's performance, procured only ^130. Anderson's Life of
Johnson, p. 89.— Wright.
^ Lest there should be any person, at any future period, absurd enough
to suspect that Johnson was a partaker in Lauder's fraud, or had any
knowledge of it, when he assisted him with his masterly pen, it is proper
here to quote the words of Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, at the
time when he detected the imposition. " It is to be hoped, nay it is
expected,, that the elegant and nervous writer, whose judicious sentiments
and inimitable style point out the author of Lauder's Preface and Post¬
script, will no longer allow one to plume himself with his feathers, who
appeareth so little to deserve assistance : an assistance which I am per¬
suaded would never have been communicated, had there been the least
suspicion of those facts which I have been the instrument of conveying to
the world in these sheets." Milton no Plagiary, 2nd edit. p. 78. And his
Lordship has been pleased now to authorise me to say, in the strongest
manner, that there is no ground whatever for any unfavourable reflection
against Dr. Johnson, who expressed the strongest indignation against
Lauder.
Lauder afterwards went to Barbadoes, where he some time taught
JET. 42. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. l8l
This extraordinary attempt of Lauder was no sudden effort.
He had brooded over it for many years: and to this hour it
is uncertain what his principal motive was, unless it were a
vain notion of his superiority, in being able, by whatever
means, to deceive mankind. To effect this, he produced cer¬
tain passages from Grotius, Masenius, and others, which had a
faint resemblance to some parts of the " Paradise Lost." In
these he interpolated some fragments of Hog's Latin transla¬
tion of that poem, alleging that the mass thus fabricated was
the archetype from which Milton copied. These fabrications
he published from time to time in the " Gentleman's Maga¬
zine;" and, exulting in his fancied success, he in 1750 ven¬
tured to collect them into a pamphlet, entitled " An Essay on
Milton's Use and Imitation of the Moderns in his Paradise
Lost." To this pamphlet Johnson wrote a Preface, in full
persuasion of Lauder's honesty, and a Postscript recommending
in the most persuasive terms a subscription for the relief of a
grand-daughter of Milton, of whom he thus speaks :
" It is yet in the power of a great people to reward the poet whose
name they boast, and from their alliance to whose genius they claim
some kind of superiority to every other nation of the earth ; that poet,
whose works may possibly be read when every other monument of
British greatness shall be obliterated ; to reward him, not with pictures
or with medals, which, if he sees, he sees with contempt, but with
tokens of gratitude, which he, perhaps, may even now consider as not
unworthy the regard of an immortal spirit."
Surely this is inconsistent with enmity towards Milton,
which Sir John Hawkins imputes to Johnson upon this occa¬
sion, adding,
"I could all along observe that Johnson seemed to approve not
only of the design, but of the argument; and seemed to exult in a
persuasion, that the reputation of Milton was likely to suffer by this
discovery. That he was not privy to the imposture, I am well per-
school. His behaviour there was mean and despicable, and he passed
the remainder of his life in universal contempt. He died about the year
1771.—Nichols.
182
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I7SI.
suaded; that he wished well to the argument, may be inferred from
the Preface, which indubitably was written by Johnson."1
Is it possible for any man of clear judgment to suppose that
Johnson, who so nobly praised the poetical excellence of
Milton in a Postscript to this very discovery, as he then sup¬
posed it, could, at the same time, exult in a persuasion that
the great poet's reputation was likely to suffer by it ? This is
an inconsistency of which Johnson was incapable; nor can
anything more be fairly inferred from the Preface, than that
Johnson, who was alike distinguished for ardent curiosity and
love of truth, was pleased with an investigation by which both
were gratified.2 That he was actuated by these motives, and
certainly by no unworthy desire to depreciate our great epic
poet, is evident from his own words ; for, after mentioning the
general zeal of men of genius and literature, " to advance the
honour, and distinguish the beauties of Paradise Lost," he
says:
" Among the inquiries to which this ardour of criticism has natu¬
rally given occasion, none is more obscure in itself, or more worthy
of rational curiosity, than a retrospect of the progress of this mighty
genius in the construction of his work; a view of the fabric, gradually
rising, perhaps, from small beginnings, till its foundation rests in the
centre, and its turrets sparkle in the skies; to trace back the structure
through all its varieties to the simplicity of its first plan; to find what
was first projected, whence the scheme was taken, how it was im¬
proved, by what assistance it was executed, and from what stores the
materials were collected ; whether its founder dug them from the
quarries of Nature, or demolished other buildings to embellish his
own."3
1 Life of Johnson, p. 276.
2 Proposals [evidently written by Johnson] for printing the Adamus
Exul of Grotius, with a Translation and Notes by William Lauder, A.M.
Gentleman's Magazine, 1747, p. 404.—Malone.
3 But is it not extraordinary that Johnson, who had himself meditated
a history of modern Latin poetry, should not have shown his curiosity
and love of truth, by, at least, comparing Lauder's quotations with the
original authors ? It was, we might say, his duty to have done so, before
he so far pronounced his judgment as to assist Lauder; and had he
JET. 42.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
183
Is this the language of one who wished to blast the laurels
of Milton ?
Though Johnson's circumstances were at this time far from
being easy,1 his humane and charitable disposition was con¬
stantly exerting itself. Mrs. Anna Williams, daughter of a
very ingenious Welsh physician, and a woman of more than
ordinary talents and literature, having come to London in
hopes of being cured of a cataract in both her eyes, which
afterwards ended in total blindness, was kindly received as a
constant visitor at his house while Mrs. Johnson lived; and,
after her death, having come under his roof in order to have
an operation upon her eyes performed with more comfort to
her than in lodgings, she had an apartment from him during
the rest of her life, at all times when he had a house.2
attempted but to verify a single quotation, he must have immediately
discovered the fraud.—Croker.
1 Mr. Prior, who, in preparing his Life of Goldsmith, had access to
the papers of Newbery, the bookseller, found several notes of Johnson's,
at this period, soliciting small loans, of one and two guineas. In 1759
and 1760 Johnson passed to Newbery two notes of hand for and
£■$0. I presume for advances on account of the Idler. Mr. Prior
found also, the original statement of the account between him and John¬
son for the Idler, when collected into volumes.
Dr.
£ s. d.
Paid for advertising. . 20 o 6
Printing 2 vols. 1500 . 41 13 o
Paper . . . . 52 3 o
113 16 6
Profit on edition . . 126 3 6
Cr.
£ s. d.
1500 sets at ,£16 per
100 .... 240 o o
Dr. Johnson's f . . 84 2 4
Mr. Newbery . 42 1 2
126 3 6
Prior's Life of Goldsmith, i., 341-347.—Croker.
2 Mrs. Williams was a person extremely interesting. She had un¬
common firmness of mind, a boundless curiosity, retentive memory, and
strong judgment. She had various powers of pleasing. Her personal
afflictions and slender fortune she seemed to forget, when she had the
power of doing an act of kindness : she was social, cheerful, and active,
in a state of body that was truly deplorable. Her regard to Dr. John¬
son was formed with such strength of judgment and firm esteem, that her
voice never hesitated when she repeated his maxims, or recited his good
184
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1752.
In 1752 he was almost entirely occupied with his " Dic¬
tionary." The last paper of his " Rambler " was published
March 2,1 this year; after which, there was a cessation for
deeds ; though upon many other occasions her want of sight led her to
make so much use of her ear, as to affect her speech.
Mrs. Williams was blind before she was acquainted with Dr. Johnson.
She had many resources, though none very great. With the Miss Wilkin¬
sons she generally passed a part of the year, and received from them
presents, and from the first who died, a legacy of clothes and money.
The last of them, Mrs. Jane, left her an annual rent; but from the
blundering manner of the will, I fear she never reaped the benefit of it.
The lady left money to erect a hospital for ancient maids: but the number
she had allotted being too great for the donation, the Doctor (Johnson)
said, it would be better to expunge the word maintain, and put in to starve
such a number of old maids. They asked him what name should be
given it : he replied, " Let it be called Jenny's Whim." [The name of a
well-known tavern near Chelsea in former days.]
Lady Phillips made her a small annual allowance, and some other
Welsh ladies, to all of whom she was related. Mrs. Montague, on the
death of Mr. Montague, settled upon her (by deed) ten pounds per annum.
As near as I can calculate, Mrs. Williams had about thirty-five or forty
pounds a year. The furniture she used [in her apartment in Dr. John¬
son's house] was her own; her expenses were small, tea and bread and
butter being at least half of her nourishment. Sometimes she had a
servant or charwoman to do the ruder offices of the house ; but she
was herself active and industrious. I have frequently seen her at work.
Upon remarking one day her facility in moving about the house, search¬
ing into drawers, and finding books, without the help of sight, "Believe,
me (said she), persons who cannot do these common offices without sight,
did but little while they enjoyed that blessing." Scanty circumstances,
bad health, and blindness, are surely a sufficient apology for her being
sometimes impatient : her natural disposition was good, friendly, and
humane.—Lady Knight's Recollections (European Review for October,
1799)-
I see her now—a pale, shrunken old lady, dressed in scarlet, made in
the handsome French fashion of the time (1775), with a lace cap, with two
stiffened projecting wings on the temples, and a black lace hood over it.
Her temper has been recorded as marked with Welsh fire, and this might
be excited by some of the meaner inmates of the upper floors [of Dr.
Johnson's house] ; but her gentle kindness to me I never shall forget, or
think consistent with a bad temper. I know nobody from whose discourse
there was a better chance of deriving high ideas of moral rectitude.—Miss
Hawkins's Memoirs, vol. ii., p. 152.—Croker.
1 A mistake : the date of the last Rambler was Saturday, March 14,
N. S., or March 3, O. S.—Editor.
JET. 43.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
185
some time of any exertion of his talents as an essayist.
But, in the same year, Dr. Hawkesworth, who was his warm
admirer, and a studious imitator of his style, and then lived in
great intimacy with him, began a periodical paper, entitled,
" The Adventurer,"1 in connection with other gentlemen, one
of whom was Johnson's much-loved friend Dr. Bathurst; and,
without doubt, they received many valuable hints from his
conversation, most of his friends having been so assisted in the
course of their works.
That there should be a suspension of his literary labours
during a part of the year 1752, will not seem strange, when it
is considered that soon after closing his " Rambler," he suffered
a loss which, there can be no doubt, affected him with the
deepest distress. For on the 17th of March, O.S., his wife
died. Why Sir John Hawkins2 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 circumstances, that he could
not really 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 prayer3 was found
1 The curiosity of the reader is to a small degree gratified by the last
paper, which assigns to their author, Dr. Joseph Warton, such as have a
certain signature, and leaves to Dr. Hawkesworth himself the praise of
such as are without any. To the information there given I add that
the papers marked A, which are said to have come from a source that
soon failed, were supplied by Dr. Bathurst, and those distinguished
by the letter T by Johnson. Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 293.—
Croker. 2 Life of Johnson, p. 313.
3 This prayer, published among the additions received after the second
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1752.
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 favoured me with a copy of it, which he and I com¬
pared with the original. I present it to the world as an un¬
doubted proof of a circumstance in the character of my illus¬
trious 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 additional, 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.
" O Lord ! Governor of heaven and earth, in whose hands are em¬
bodied and departed spirits, if thou hast ordained the 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 pre¬
sumption, enlighten my ignorance, and however meaner agents are
employed, grant me the blessed influences of thy holy Spirit, through
Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
What actually followed upon this most interesting piece of
devotion by Johnson, we are not informed ; but I, whom it
has pleased God to afflict in a similar manner to that which
occasioned it, have certain experience of benignant communi¬
cation by dreams.
That his love for his wife was of the most ardent kind, and,
during the long period of fifty years, was unimpaired by the
lapse of time, is evident from various passages in the series of
his " Prayers and Meditations," published by the Reverend Mr.
Strahan, as well as from other memorials, two of which I
select, as strongly marking the tenderness and sensibility of
his mind.
"March 28, 1753. I kept this day as the anniversary of my Tetty's
edition was printed, was introduced into the text in the third edition.—
Editor.
^T. 43.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
18/
death, with prayer and tears in the morning. In the evening I prayed
for her conditionally, if it were lawful."
" April 23, t753 I know not whether I do not too much indulge
the vain longings of affection; but I hope they intenerate my heart,
and that when I die like my Tetty, this affection will be acknow¬
ledged in a happy interview, and that in the meantime I am incited
by it to piety. I will, however, not deviate too much from common
and received methods of devotion."
Her wedding-ring, when she became his wife, was, after her
death, preserved by him, as long as he lived, with an affec¬
tionate care, in a little round wooden box, in the inside of
which he pasted a slip of paper, thus inscribed by him in fair
characters, as follows :—
" Eheu !
" Eliz. Johnson,
"Nupta Jul. 90 1736,
"Mortua, eheu!
"Mart. 170 1752."
After his death, Mr. Francis Barber, his faithful servant, and
residuary legatee, offered this memorial of tenderness to Mrs.
Lucy Porter, Mrs. Johnson's daughter ; but she having declined
to accept of it, he had it enamelled as a mourning ring for his
old master, and presented it to his wife, Mrs. Barber, who now
has it.
The state of mind in which a man must be upon the death
of a woman whom he sincerely loves, had been in his contem¬
plation many years before. In his " Irene," we find the follow¬
ing fervent and tender speech of Demetrius, addressed to his
Aspasia :—
" From those bright regions of eternal day,
Where now thou shin'st amongst thy fellow saints,
Array'd in purer light, look down on me !
In pleasing visions and assuasive dreams,
O ! soothe my soul, and teach me how to lose thee."
I have, indeed, been told by Mrs. Desmoulins, who, before
her marriage, lived for some time with Mrs. Johnson at Hamp-
188
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1752.
stead, that she indulged herself in country air and nice living,
at an unsuitable expense, while her husband was drudging in
the smoke of London, and that she by no means treated him
with that complacency which is the most engaging quality in
a wife. But all this is perfectly compatible with his fondness
for her, especially when it is remembered that he had a high
opinion of her understanding, and that the impressions which
her beauty, real or imaginary, had originally made upon his
fancy, being continued by habit, had not been effaced, though
she herself was doubtless much altered for the worse. The
dreadful shock of separation took place in the night; and he
immediately despatched a letter to his friend, the Reverend
Dr. Taylor, which, as Taylor told me, expressed grief in the
strongest manner he had ever read ; so that it is much to be
regretted it has not been preserved. The letter was brought
to Dr. Taylor, at his house in the cloisters, Westminster, about
three in the morning ; and as it signified an earnest desire to
see him, he got up, and went to Johnson as soon as he was
dressed, and found him in tears and in extreme agitation.
After being a little while together, Johnson requested him to
join with him in prayer. He then prayed extempore, as did
Dr. Taylor; and thus by means of that piety which was ever
his primary object, his troubled mind was, in some degree,
soothed and composed.
The next day he wrote as follows :—
TO THE REV. DR. TAYLOR.
"March 18. 1752.
" Dear Sir,
" Let me have your company and instruction. Do not live
away from me. My distress is great.
" Pray desire Mrs. Taylor to inform me what mourning I should
buy for my mother and Miss Porter, and bring a note in writing
with you.
" Remember me in your prayers, for vain is the help of man. I am,
dear sir, &c. "Sam. Johnson." '
That his sufferings upon the death of his wife were severe,
MT. 43.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
189
beyond what are commonly endured, I have no doubt, from
the information of many who were then about him, to none of
whom I give more credit than to Mr. Francis Barber, his
faithful negro servant,1 who came into his family about a fort¬
night after the dismal event. These sufferings were aggra¬
vated by the melancholy inherent in his constitution; and
although he probably was not oftener in the wrong than she
was, in the little disagreements which sometimes troubled his
married state, during which, he owned to me, that the gloomy
irritability of his existence was more painful to him than ever,
he might very naturally, after her death, be tenderly disposed
to charge himself with slight omissions and offences, the sense
of which would give him much uneasiness. Accordingly we
find, about a year after her decease, that he thus addressed the
Supreme Being: " O Lord, who givest the grace of repen¬
tance, and hearest the prayers of the penitent, grant that by
true contrition I may obtain forgiveness of all the sins com¬
mitted, and of all duties neglected, in my union with the wife
whom thou hast taken from me; for the neglect of joint
devotion, patient exhortation, and mild instruction."2 The
kindness of his heart, notwithstanding the impetuosity of his
temper, is well known to his friends; and I cannot trace the
smallest foundation for the following dark and uncharitable
assertion by Sir John Hawkins: "The apparition of his de¬
parted wife was altogether of the terrific kind, and hardly
1 Francis Barber was born in Jamaica, and was brought to England in
175°, by Colonel Bathurst, father of Johnson's very intimate friend Dr.
Bathurst. He was sent, for some time, to the Reverend Mr. Jackson's
school, at Barton, in Yorkshire. The Colonel by his will left him his free¬
dom, and Dr. Bathurst was willing that he should enter into Johnson's
service, in which he continued from 1752 till Johnson's death, with the ex¬
ception of two intervals ; in one of which, upon some difference with his
master, he went and served an apothecary in Cheapside, but still visited
Dr. Johnson occasionally ; in another, when he took a fancy to go to sea.
Part of the time, indeed, he was, by the kindness of his master, at a school
in Northamptonshire, that he might have the advantage of some learning.
So early and so lasting a connection was there between Dr. Johnson and
this humble friend.
2 Pr. and Med., p. 19.
igo BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. I7$2.
afforded him a hope that she was in a state of happiness."1
That he, in conformity with the opinion of many of the most
able, learned, and pious Christians in all ages, supposed that
there was a middle state after death, previous to the time at
which departed souls are finally received to eternal felicity,
appears, I think, unquestionably from his devotions: " And,
O Lord, so far as it may be lawful in me, I commend to thy
fatherly goodness the soid of my departed wife; beseeching thee
to grdnt her whatever is best in her present state, and finally to
receive her to eternal happiness."2 But this state has not been
looked upon with horror, but only as less gracious.
He deposited the remains of Mrs. Johnson in the church of
Bromley in Kent,3 to which he was probably led by the
residence of his friend Hawkesworth at that place. The
funeral sermon which he composed for her, which was never
preached, but, having been given to Dr. Taylor, has been pub¬
lished since his death, is a performance of uncommon excel¬
lence, and full of rational and pious comfort to such as are
depressed by that severe affliction which Johnson felt when he
wrote it. When it is considered that it was written in such an
agitation of mind, and in the short interval between her death
and burial, it cannot be read without wonder.
1 Life of Johnson, p. 316. 2 Pr. and Med., p. 20.
3 A few months before his death, Johnson caused the following epitaph
to be inscribed on her tombstone, in the church of Bromley :—
Hie conduntur reliquiae
ELIZABETHS
Antiqua Jarvisiorum gente,
Peatlingae, apud Leicestrienses, ortse ;
Formosae, cultae, ingeniosae, piae ;
Uxoris, primis nuptiis, Henrici Porter,
Secundis, Samuelis Johnson :
Qui multum amatam, diuque defletam
Hoc lapide contexit.
Obiit Londini, Mense Mart.
A.D. MDCCLII.
It is a blue slate slab, at the west end of the central aisle, in good pre¬
servation (1881), which it probably owes, to its being generally covered
with matting.—Editor.
JET. 43.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
191
From Mr. Francis Barber I have had the following authentic
and artless account of the situation in which he found him
recently after his wife's death: " He was in great affliction.
Mrs. Williams was then living in his house, which was in
Gough Square. He was busy with the 'Dictionary.' Mr.
Shields, and some others of the gentlemen who had formerly
written for him, used to come about him. He had then little
for himself, but frequently sent money to Mr. Shields when in
distress. The friends who visited him at that time, were chiefly
Dr. Bathurst,1 and Mr. Diamond, an apothecary in Cork
1 Dr. Bathurst, though a physician of no inconsiderable merit, had not
the good fortune to get much practice in London. He was, therefore,
willing to accept of employment abroad, and, to the regret of all who knew
him, fell a sacrifice to the destructive climate, in the expedition against
the Havannah. Mr. Langton recollects the following passage in a letter
from Dr. Johnson to Mr. Beauclerk : " The Havannah is taken : a con¬
quest too dearly obtained ; for, Bathurst died before it; 1 Vix Priamus tanti
totaque Troja fait? "
There are in Harwood's History of Lichfield, two letters from Bathurst
to Johnson, dated Barbadoes, January 13, and Jamaica, March 18, 1757 ;
from which it would seem that Bathurst left London, and returned to the
West Indies some years before the expedition against the Havannah
(1762) ; nor is his name to be found in the list of medical officers
who accompanied the army from England ; he probably, therefore,
joined the expedition in the West Indies. The first of these letters runs
thus:—
" The many acts of friendship and affection you have conferred upon me,
so fully convince me of your being interested in my welfare, that even my
present stupidity will not prevent my taking a pen in my hand to acquaint
you that I am this instant arrived safe at Barbadoes, and I hope I may
add, without having forgot all your lessons ; and I am confident not without
praying most fervently that the Supreme Being will enable me to deserve
the approbation and friendship of so great and so good a man : alas, you
little know how undeserving I am of the favours I have received from you.
May health and happiness for ever attend you. Excuse my dropping my
pen, for it is impossible that it should express the gratitude that is due to
you, from your most affectionate friend, and most obliged servant, Richard
Bathurst."
Dr. Johnson told Mrs. Piozzi (Anecdotes, p. 83), that he loved "dear,
dear Bathurst, better than he ever loved any human creature and it was
on him that he bestowed the singular eulogy of being a good hater.
" Dear Bathurst," said he, " was a man to my very heart's content ; he
192
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1752.
Street, Burlington Gardens, with whom he and Mrs. Williams
generally dined every Sunday. There was a talk of his going
to Iceland with him, which would probably have happened,
had he lived. There were also Mr. Cave, Dr. Hawkesworth,
Mr. Ryland, merchant on Tower-hill, Mrs. Masters,1 the
poetess, who lived with Mr. Cave, Mrs. Carter, and sometimes
Mrs. Macaulay;2 also, Mrs. Gardiner, wife of a tallow-chandler
on Snow-hill, not in the learned way, but a worthy good
woman;3 Mr. (now Sir Joshua) Reynolds; Mr. Millar, Mr.
Dodsley, Mr. Bouquet, Mr. Payne, of Paternoster-row, book¬
sellers ; Mr. Strahan, the printer; the Earl of Orrery, Lord
Southwell, Mr. Garrick."
. Many are, no doubt, omitted in this catalogue of his friends,
and in particular, his humble friend Mr. Robert Levett, an
obscure practiser in physic amongst the lower people, his fees
being sometimes very small sums, sometimes whatever pro¬
visions his patients could afford him; but of such extensive
practice in that way, that Mrs. Williams has told me, his walk was
from Houndsditch to Marylebone. It appears, from Johnson's
diary, that their acquaintance commenced about the year
1746; and such was Johnson's predilection for him, and fanci¬
ful estimation of his moderate abilities, that I have heard him
say he should not be satisfied, though attended by all the
College of Physicians, unless he had Mr. Levett with him.
Ever since I was acquainted with Dr. Johnson, and many
hated a fool, and he hated a rogue, and he hated a Whig : he was a very
good hater ! "—Croker.
1 Mary Masters published a small volume of poems about 1738, and, in
1755, Familiar Letters and Poems, in octavo. She is supposed to have
died about 1759.—Croker.
2 Catherine Macaulay was born in 1733, at Ollantigh, in Kent, the seat
of her father, John Sawbridge, Esq. In 1760 she was married to Dr.
George Macaulay, a physician of London. Her principal work is the
History of England from James I. to the Revolution. 8 vols. 4to., 1763-
77. She died in 1791. Barber's account with respect to her would seem
therefore to be incorrect.—Croker.
3 With this good woman, who was introduced to him by Mrs. Masters,
he kept up a constant intercourse, and remembered her in his will, by the
bequest of a book.—Croker.
JET. 43.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
193
years before, as I have been assured by those who knew him
earlier, Mr. Levett had an apartment in his house, or his
chambers, and waited upon him every morning, through the
whole course of his late and tedious breakfast. He was
of a strange grotesque appearance, stiff and formal in his
manner, and seldom said a word while any company was
present.1
The circle of his friends, indeed, at this time was extensive
and various, far beyond what has been generally imagined.2
To trace his acquaintance with each particular person, if it
could be done, would be a task, of which the labour 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 Rey-
1 Robert Levett, though an Englishman by birth, became early in life a
waiter at a coffee-house in Paris ; where the surgeons who frequented it,
finding him of an inquisitive turn, and attentive to their conversation, made
a purse for him, and gave him some instructions in their art. They after¬
wards furnished him with the means of other knowledge, by procuring him
free admission to such lectures in pharmacy and anatomy as were read by
the ablest professors of that period. Where the middle part of his life was
spent is uncertain. He resided about twenty years under Johnson's hos¬
pitable roof, who never wished him to be regarded as an inferior, or
treated him like a dependent.—From an account attributed by Malone to
Ste evens.
2 Dr. Harwood favoured me with the following memorandum, in John¬
son's writing, made about this time, of certain visits which he was to pay
(perhaps on his return from Oxford in 1754) ; and which, as it contains
the names of some of the highest and lowest of his acquaintance, is pro¬
bably a list of nearly all his friends :—
Visits to
Brodie
Reynolds
Henry
Craster
Fowke
Lenox
Tyers
Simpson
Taylor
Gully
Hawkins
Rose
Elphinston
Hawkesworth
Ryland
Giffard
Osborne
Gardiner
Payne
Gregory
Garden
Drew
Newberry
Desmoulins
Richardson
Lawrence
Bathurst
Lloyd
Strahan
Garrick
Grainger
Slrerrard."
Millar
Robinson, sen.
Baker
—Croker.
Tonson
Boyle
Weston
Dodsley
Wilson
Millar
O
194 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1752.
nolds, who was truly his dulce decus, and with whom he main¬
tained 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 opposite to him,
Miss Cotterells, daughters of Admiral Cotterell.1 Reynolds
used also to visit there, and thus they met.2 Mr. Reynolds, as
I have observed above, had from the first reading of his " Life
of Savage," conceived a very high admiration 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 Joshua,
indeed, was lucky enough, at their very first meeting, to make
a remark, which was so much above the common-place style
of conversation, that Johnson at once perceived that Reynolds
had the habit of thinking for himself. The ladies were regret¬
ting the death of a friend, to whom they owed great obliga¬
tions; upon which Reynolds observed, "You have, however,
the comfort of being relieved from a burthen 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 it exhibited, like some of the reflections
of Rochefoucauld. The consequence was, that he went home
with Reynolds, and supped with him.
Sir Joshua told me a pleasant characteristical anecdote of
Johnson about the time of their first acquaintance. When
they were one evening together at the Miss Cotterells', the
1 Captain Charles Cotterell retired totally from the service in July, 1747,
being put on the superannuated list, with the rank and pay of a rear-
admiral. He died in August, 1754.—Croker.
2 If the date of his residence in Castle Street, 1738, be correct, it is evi¬
dent that Boswell has fallen into a mistake, as far as the locality is con¬
cerned, in narrating this anecdote. In 1738 Reynolds had not come to
London, and besides, was only fifteen years old. But the interest of the
anecdote does not rest on this; but on the circumstance which led to the
formation of the friendship between Johnson and Reynolds, which may be
correctly stated though Boswell may have erred with respect to Johnson's
place of residence at the time.—Editor.
JET. 43.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
195
then Duchess of Argyle1 and another lady of high rank came
in. Johnson, thinking that the Miss Cotterells were too much
engrossed by them, and that he and his friend were neglected,
as low company of whom they were somewhat ashamed, grew
angry; and resolving to shock their supposed pride, by making
their great visitors imagine that his friend and he were low
indeed, he addressed himself in a loud tone to Mr. Reynolds,
saying, "How much do you think you and I could get in a week,
if we were to work as hard as we could ?"—as if they had been
common mechanics.
His acquaintance with Bennet Langton, Esq., of Langton,
in Lincolnshire, another much valued friend, commenced soon
after the conclusion of his "Rambler;" which that gentleman,
then a youth, had read with so much admiration, that he came
to London chiefly with a view of endeavouring to be introduced
to its author.2 By a fortunate chance, he happened to take
lodgings in a house where Mr. Levett frequently visited ; and
having mentioned his wish to his landlady, she introduced him
1 Jane Warburton, second wife of John, second Duke of Argyle. His
Grace died 1743. She survived till 1767.—Croker.
2 Mr. Langton was only fifteen when the Rambler was terminated,
having been born about 1737, and he entered Trinity College, Oxford,
July 7, 1757. So much of his history is told with that of Dr. Johnson's,
that it is unnecessary to say more in this place, except that he was remark¬
able for his knowledge of Greek, and on Dr. Johnson's death, he succeeded
him as professor of ancient literature in the Royal Academy. He died
on the 10th of December, 1801, and was buried at Southampton. The
following description of his person and appearance later in life is interest¬
ing, and its resemblance is confirmed by a beautiful portrait by Reynolds,
in the possession of his family. " O ! that we could sketch him with his
mild countenance, his elegant features, and his sweet smile, sitting with
one leg twisted round the other, as if fearing to occupy more space than
was equitable ; his person inclining forward, as if wanting strength to
support his height, and his arms crossed over his bosom, or his hands
locked together on his knee; his oblong gold-mounted snuff-box, taken
from the waistcoat pocket opposite his hand, and either remaining between
his fingers or set by him on the table, but which was never used but when
his mind was occupied on conversation ; so soon as conversation began,
the box was produced."—Miss Hawkins's Memoirs, vol. ii., p. 282.—
Croker.
196
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1752.
to Mr. 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. Mr. Lang-
ton was exceedingly surprised 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 bedchamber
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 animated, 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 Henry the Second; and
Cardinal Stephen Langton, in King John's reign, was of this
family." 1
Mr. Langton afterwards went to pursue his studies at Trinity
College, Oxford, where he formed an acquaintance with his
fellow-student, Mr. Topham Beauclerk,2 who, though their
opinions and modes of life were so different, that it seemed
utterly improbable that they should at all agree, had so ardent
a love of literature, so acute an understanding, such elegance
1 It is to be wondered that he did not also mention Bishop Langton,
a distinguished benefactor to the cathedral of Lichfield, and who also
had a grant of free-warren over his patrimonial inheritance, from
Edward I. ; the relationship might probably be as clearly traced in the
one case as in the other. See Harwood's History of Lichfield, p. 139.—
Croker.
2 Topham Beauclerk, only son of Lord Sidney Beauclerk, third son of
the first Duke of St. Albans, was born in 1739, and entered Trinity Col¬
lege. Oxford, in November, 1757.—Croker.
JET. 43.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
197
of manners, and so well discerned the excellent qualities of
Mr. Langton, a gentleman eminent not only for worth and
learning, but for an inexhaustible fund of entertaining conver¬
sation, that they became intimate friends.
Johnson, soon after this acquaintance began, passed a con¬
siderable time at Oxford. He at first thought it strange that
Langton should associate so much with one who had the cha¬
racter of being loose, both in his principles and practice ; but,
by degrees, he himself was fascinated. Mr. Beauclerk's being
of the St. Alban's family, and having, in some particulars, a
resemblance to Charles the Second, contributed, in Johnson's
imagination, to throw a lustre upon his other qualities; and, in
a short time, the moral, pious Johnson, and the gay, dissipated
Beauclerk, were companions. " What a coalition ! (said Gar-
rick, when he heard of this:) I shall have my old friend to bail
out of the Round-house." But I can bear testimony that it
was a very agreeable association. Beauclerk was too polite,
and valued learning and wit too much, to offend Johnson by
sallies of infidelity or licentiousness; and Johnson delighted
in the good qualities of Beauclerk, and hoped to correct the
evil. Innumerable were the scenes in which Johnson was
amused by these young men. Beauclerk could take more
liberty with him than any body with whom I ever saw him;
but, on the other hand, Beauclerk was not spared by his
respectable companion, when reproof was proper. Beauclerk
had such a propensity to satire, that at one time Johnson said
to him, "You never open your mouth but with intention to
give pain ; and you have often given me pain, not from the
power of what you said, but from seeing your intention." At
another time applying to him, with a slight alteration, a line
of Pope, he said, " Thy love of folly, and thy scorn of fools.1
Every thing thou dost shows the one, and every thing thou
say'st, the other." At another time he said to him," Thy body
is all vice, and thy mind all virtue." Beauclerk not seeming to
relish the compliment, Johnson said, "Nay, Sir, Alexander the
1 Your taste of follies, with our scorn of fools.
Pope's Moral Essays, ii. 276.
198
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1753-
Great, marching in triumph into Babylon, could not have de¬
sired to have had more said to him."
Johnson was some time with Beauclerk at his house at
Windsor, where he was entertained with experiments in
natural philosophy. One Sunday, when the weather was very
fine, Beauclerk enticed him, insensibly, to saunter about all the
morning. They went into a churchyard, in the time of divine
service, and Johnson laid himself down at his ease upon one of
the tomb-stones. "Now, Sir, (said Beauclerk) you are like
Hogarth's Idle Apprentice." When Johnson got his pension,
Beauclerk said to him, in the humorous phrase of Falstaff,
" I hope you'll now purge, and live cleanly, like a gentle¬
man."
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 nightcap, 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-humour agreed to
their proposal: " What, is it you, you dogs ! I'll have a frisk
with you." He was soon drest, 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 at his figure and manner, and odd
interference, that he soon saw his services were not relished.
They then repaired to one of the neighbouring 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 !1
1 Mr. Langton has recollected, or Dr. Johnson repeated, the passage
yET. 44.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
199
They did not stay long, but walked down to the Thames,
took a boat, and rowed to Billingsgate. Beauclerk and John¬
son were so well pleased with their amusement, that they re¬
solved to persevere in dissipation for the rest of the day: but
Langton deserted them, being engaged to breakfast with some
young ladies. Johnson scolded him for "leaving his social
friends, to go and sit with a set of wretched un-idedd 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! "
He entered upon this year, 1753, with his usual piety, as
appears from the following prayer, which I transcribed from
that part of his diary which he burnt a few days before his
death :
" Jan. 1, 1753, N.S.; which I shall use for the future.
" Almighty God, who hast continued my life to this day, grant that,
by the assistance of thy Holy Spirit, I may improve the time which
thou shalt grant me, to my eternal salvation. Make me to remember,
to thy glory, thy judgments and thy mercies. Make me so to con¬
sider the loss of my wife, whom thou hast taken from me, that it may
dispose me, by thy grace, to lead the residue of my life in thy fear.
Grant this, O Lord, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."
He now relieved the drudgery of his " Dictionary," and the
melancholy of his grief, by taking an active part in the com¬
position of " The Adventurer," in which he began to write
April 10, marking his essays with the signature T., by which
most of his papers in that collection are distinguished : those,
however, which have that signature and also that of Mysar-
gyrns, were not written by him, but, as I suppose, by Dr.
Bathurst. Indeed, Johnson's energy of thought and richness of
wrong. The lines are in Lord Lansdowne's Drinking Song to Sleep, and
run thus :—
Short, very short, be then thy reign,
For I'm in haste to laugh and drink again.
(Note in third edition, vol. i., p. 214.—Editor.)
200
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1753-
language are still more decisive marks than any signature. As
a proof of this, my readers, I imagine, will not doubt that No.
39, on Sleep, is his ; for it not only has the general texture and
colour of his style, but the authors with whom he was pecu¬
liarly conversant are readily introduced in it in cursory allu¬
sion. The translation of a passage in Statius1 quoted in that
paper, and marked C. B., has been erroneously ascribed to Dr.
Bathurst,2 whose Christian name was Richard. How much this
amiable man actually contributed to " The Adventurer," can¬
not be known. Let me add, that Hawkesworth's imitations of
Johnson are sometimes so happy, that it is extremely difficult
to distinguish them with certainty, from the composition of his
great archetype. Hawkesworth was his closest imitator, a cir¬
cumstance of which that writer would once have been proud
to be told ; though, when he had become elated by having
risen into some degree of consequence, he, in a conversation
with me, had the provoking effrontery to say that he was not
sensible of it.
Johnson was truly zealous for the success of " The Adven¬
turer ;" and very soon after his engaging in it, he wrote the
following letter:
TO THE REV. DR. JOSEPH WARTON.
" 8th March, 1753.
" Dear Sir,
" I ought to have written to you before now, but I ought to do
many things which I do not; nor can I, indeed, claim any merit
from this letter; for being desired by the authors and proprietor of
the ' Adventurer' to look out for another hand, my thoughts neces¬
sarily fixed upon you, whose fund of literature will enable you to assist
them, with very little interruption of your studies.
1 This is a slight inaccuracy. The Latin Sapphics translated by C. B.
in that paper were written by Cowley, and are in his fourth book on Plants.
—Malone.
2 In the first edition, the translation marked C. B. was said to be " cer¬
tainly the performance of Dr. Charles Bathurstin the second it is said
to be erroneously ascribed to Dr. Bathurst, whose Christian name was
Richard.—Editor.
JET. 44.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
201
" They desire you to engage to furnish one paper a month, at two
guineas a paper, which you may very readily perform. We have con¬
sidered that a paper should consist of pieces of imagination, pictures
of life, and disquisitions of literature. The part which depends on
the imagination is very well supplied, as you will find when you read
the paper • for descriptions of life, there is now a treaty almost made
with an author and an authoress;1 and the province of criticism and
literature they are very desirous to assign to the commentator on
Virgil.
" I hope this proposal will not be rejected, and that the next post
will bring us your compliance. I speak as one of the fraternity,
though I have no part in the paper, beyond now and then a motto;
but two of the writers are my particular friends, and I hope the plea¬
sure of seeing a third united to them, will not be denied to, dear Sir,
your most obedient and most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
The consequence of this letter was, Dr. Warton's enriching
the collection with several admirable essays.2
1 It is not improbable that the " author and authoress, with whom a treaty
was almost made, for descriptions of life," and who are mentioned in a
manner that seems to indicate some connection between them, were Henry
and his sister Sally Fielding, as she was then popularly called. Fielding
had previously been a periodical essayist, and certainly was well acquainted
with life in all its varieties, more especially within the precincts of London,
and his sister was a lively and ingenious writer. To this notion, perhaps,
it may be objected, that no papers in the Adventurer are known to be
their productions. But it should be remembered, that of several of the
essays in that work the authors are unknown, and some of these may have
been written by the persons here supposed to be alluded to. Nor would
the objection be decisive, even if it were ascertained that neither of them
contributed anything to the Adventurer, for the treaty above-mentioned
might afterwards have been broken off. The negotiator, doubtless, was
Havvkesworth, and not Johnson. Fielding was at this time in the highest
reputation ; having, in 1751, produced his Amelia, of which the whole im¬
pression was sold off on the day of its publication.—Malone.
2 In this place, though out of order of date, may be given (from Wooll's
Life of Warton, p. 219), Johnson's letter to him on the conclusion of the
Adventurer :—
JOHNSON TO JOSEPH WARTON.
" 8th March, 1754.
" Dear Sir,—I cannot but congratulate you upon the conclusion of a
work, in which you have borne so great a part with so much reputation.
202
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I753-
Johnson's saying, "I have no part in the paper, beyond now
and then a motto," may seem inconsistent with his being the
author of the papers marked T.1 But he had, at this
time, written only one number ; and besides, even at any after
period, he might have used the same expression, considering
it as a point of honour not to own them ; for Mrs. Williams
told me that, " as he had given those Essays to Dr. Bathurst,
who sold them at two guineas each, he never would own them;
nay, he used to say he did not write them : but the fact was,
I immediately determined that your name should be mentioned, but the
paper having been some time written, Mr. Hawkesworth, I suppose, did not
care to disorder its text, and therefore put your eulogy in a note. He and
every other man mentions your papers of criticism with great commenda¬
tion, though not with greater than they deserve.
" But how little can we venture to exult in any intellectual powers or
literary attainments, when we consider the condition of poor Collins! I knew
him a few years ago full of hopes and full of projects, versed in many lan¬
guages, high in fancy, and strong in retention. This busy and forcible
mind is now under the government of those who lately would not have
been able to comprehend the least and most narrow of its designs. What
do you hear of him ? are there hopes of his recovery ? or is he to pass the
remainder of his life in misery and degradation—perhaps with complete
consciousness of his calamity ?
" You have flattered us, dear Sir, for some time, with hopes of seeing
you; when you come you will find your reputation increased, and with it
the kindness of those friends who do not envy you ; for success always
produces either love or hatred. I enter my name among those that love,
and that love you more and more in proportion as by writing more you are
more known ; and believe, that as you continue to diffuse among us your
integrity and learning, I shall be still with greater esteem and affection,
dear Sir, your most obedient and most humble servant,
" Sam. Jounson."—Croker.
1 That Johnson was the writer of the papers signed T, I assert on
the authority of his Adversaria, in which are the original hints of many
of them in his own hand-writing.—Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 293
(note).
This is confirmed by a passage in a letter of Miss Hill Boothby to
Johnson:—
" I wonder not at your hesitating to impart a secret to a woman ; but
am the more obliged to you for communicating it as a secret, after so
hesitating. Such a mark of your deliberate confidence shall be strictly
regarded ; and I shall seek for letter T, that I may read with redoubled
pleasure." Pp. 47-8.—Editor.
MT. 44.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
203
that he dictated them, while Bathurst wrote." I read to him
Mrs. Williams' account: he smiled, and said nothing.
I am not quite satisfied with the casuistry by which the
productions of one person are thus passed upon the world for
the productions of another. I allow that not only knowledge,
but powers and qualities of mind, may be communicated ; but
the actual effect of individual exertion never can be transferred,
with truth, to any other than its own original cause. One per¬
son's child may be made the child of another person by adop¬
tion, as among the Romans, or by the ancient Jewish mode of
a wife having children born to her upon her knees, by her
handmaid. But these were children in a different sense from
that of nature. It was clearly understood that they were not
of the blood of their nominal parents. So in literary children,
an author may give the profits and fame of his composition to
another man, but cannot make that other the real author. A
Highland gentleman, a younger branch of a family, once con¬
sulted me if he could not validly purchase the chieftainship of
his family, from the chief who was willing to sell it. I told
him it was impossible for him to acquire, by purchase, a right
to be a different person from what he really was ; for that the
right of chieftainship attached to the blood of primogeniture,
and, therefore, was incapable of being transferred. I added,
that though Esau sold his birthright, or the advantages be¬
longing to it, he still remained the first-born of his parents ;
and that whatever agreement a chief might make with any of
the clan, the Heralds' Office could not admit of the metamor¬
phosis, or with any decency attest that the younger was the
elder : but I did not convince the worthy gentleman.
Johnson's papers in the "Adventurer" are very similar to
those of the " Rambler but, being rather more varied in their
subjects, and being mixed with essays by other writers, upon
topics more generally attractive than even the most elegant
ethical discourses, the sale of the work, at first, was more ex¬
tensive. Without meaning, however, to depreciate the " Ad¬
venturer," I must observe, that as the value of the " Rambler "
came, in the progress of time, to be better known, it grew
204
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1753-
upon the public estimation, and that its sale has far exceeded
that of any other periodical papers since the reign of Queen
Anne.
In one of the books of his diary I find the following entry:
"Apr. 3, 1753. I began the second vol. of my 'Dictionary,' room
being left in the first for Preface, Grammar, and History, none of
them yet begun.
" 0 God, who hast hitherto supported me, enable me to proceed
in this labour, and in the whole task of my present state; that when
I shall render up, at the last day, an account of the talent committed
to me, I may receive pardon, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen."
He this year favoured Mrs. Lenox with a Dedication* to the
Earl of Orrery, of her " Shakespeare Illustrated." 1
1 Mrs. Charlotte Lenox was born in 1720. Her father, Colonel Ramsay,
Lieutenant-Governor of New York, sent her over to England at the age
of fifteen : but, unfortunately, the relative to whose care she was con¬
signed was either dead or in a state of insanity on Miss Ramsay's arrival.
A lady who heard of, and pitied so extraordinary a disappointment, in¬
terested Lady Rockingham in the fate of Miss Ramsay; and the result
was, that she was received into her ladyship's family, where she remained
till she fancied that a gentleman who visited at the house had become
enamoured of her : though she is said to have been very plain in her per¬
son. This fancied passion led her into some extravagancies of vanity
and jealousy, which terminated her residence with Lady Rockingham.
Her moral character, however, was never impeached, and she obtained
some countenance and protection from the Duchess of Newcastle ; but
was chiefly dependent for a livelihood on her own literary exertions. In
1747, she published a volume of poems, and became, probably about that
time, known to Mr. Strahan, the printer, in consequence of which she
became acquainted with and married a Mr. Lenox, who was in Mr.
Strahan's employ, but in what capacity is not known. She next pub¬
lished, in 1751, the novel of Harriot Stuart, in which it is supposed she
gave her own history. The Duchess of Newcastle honoured her by
standing godmother to her first child, who was called Henrietta Holies,
and did her the more substantial benefits of procuring for Mr. Lenox the
place of tidewaiter in the Customs, and for herself an apartment in Somer¬
set House. Nothing more is remembered of Mr. Lenox, except that he,
at a later period of life, put forward some claim to a Scottish peerage.
Mrs. Lenox lost her apartments by the pulling down of Somerset House ;
and, in the latter part of her life, was reduced to great distress. Besides
her acquaintance with Dr. Johnson (who was always extremely kind to
her), and other literary characters, she had the good fortune to become
JET. 44.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
205
In 1754 I can trace nothing published by him, except his
numbers of the " Adventurer," and " The Life of Edward
Cave," in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for February. In
biography there can be no question that he excelled, beyond
all who have attempted that species of composition; upon
which, indeed, he set the highest value. To the minute selec¬
tion of characteristical circumstances,1 for which the ancients
acquainted, at Mr. Strahan's, with the late Right Hon. George Rose, who
liberally assisted her in the latter years of her life—particularly in her last
illness, and was at the expense of her burial in the beginning of January,
1804.—For most of the foregoing details, I am indebted to my friend the
Right Hon. Sir George Rose, whose venerable mother still (1831) remem¬
bers Mrs. Lenox.—Croker.
Hawkins (Life of Johnson, p. 286) gives a graphic account of a John¬
sonian orgy in honour of Mrs. Lenox.
" Mrs. Lenox, a lady now well known to the literary world, had written
a novel, entitled The Life of Harriot Stuart, which in the spring of 1751
was ready for publication. One evening at the [Ivy Lane] Club, Johnson
proposed to us the celebrating the birth of Mrs. Lenox's first literary
child, as he called her book, by a whole night spent in festivity. Upon
his mentioning it to me, I told him I had never sat up a whole night in
my life ; but he continuing to press me, and saying, that I should find
great delight in it, I, as did all the rest of our company, consented. The
place appointed was the Devil Tavern, and there, about the hour of eight,
Mrs. Lenox and her husband, and a lady of her acquaintance, still [1785]
living, as also the club, and friends to the number of near twenty, assem¬
bled. The supper was elegant, and Johnson had directed that a magni¬
ficent hot apple-pie should make a part of it, and this he would have
stuck with bay leaves, because, forsooth, Mrs. Lenox was an authoress,
and had written verses ; and further, he had prepared for her a crown of
laurel, with which, but not till he had invoked the Muses by some cere¬
monies of his own invention, he encircled her brows. The night passed,
as must be imagined, in pleasant conversation and harmless mirth, inter¬
mingled, at different periods, with the refreshments of coffee and tea.
About five, Johnson's face shone with meridian splendour, though his
drink had been only lemonade ; but the far greater part of the company
had deserted the colours of Bacchus, and were with difficulty rallied to
partake of a second refreshment of coffee, which was scarcely ended when
the day began to dawn. This phenomenon began to put us in mind of
our reckoning; but the waiters were all so overcome with sleep, that it
was two hours before a bill could be had, and it was not till near eight
that the creaking of the street door gave the signal for our departure."
1 This is not Johnson's appropriate praise; and, indeed, his want of
206
' BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1754.
were remarkable, he added a philosophical research, and the
most perspicuous and energetic language. Cave was certainly
a man of estimable qualities, and was eminently diligent and
successful in his own business, which, doubtless, entitled him
to respect. But he was peculiarly fortunate in being recorded
by Johnson ; who, of the narrow life of a printer and publisher,
without any digressions or adventitious circumstances, has
made an interesting and agreeable narrative.1
The "Dictionary," we may believe, afforded Johnson full
occupation this year. As it approached to its conclusion, he
probably worked with redoubled vigour, 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 com¬
pliment of addressing to his lordship the plan of his " Dic¬
tionary," had behaved to him in such a manner as to excite
his contempt and indignation. The world has been for many
attention -to details is his greatest, if not his only fault, as a biographer.
In the whole Life of Savage there is but one date—the birth of Savage—
and that date is wrong ; and no one, from his Life of Cave, would have
imagined that Cave (as appears from the same letter) had been invited
to meet the Prince and Princess of Wales, at a country house. Several
details and corrections of errors, with which he was furnished for his
Lives of the Poets, were wholly neglected. But, in truth, " the minute
selection of characteristic circumstances " was neither the style of John¬
son, nor the fashion of his day, and Mr. Boswell himself has, more than
any other writer, contributed to create the public taste for biographical
details.—Croker.
Mr. Croker in asserting that in the whole Life of Savage there is but
one date—the birth of Savage—and that date wrong, is, to use a favourite
expression of his own, " indubitably " wrong. For, irrespective of the date
of birth, there are, in the Life of Savage, six dates, as any reader may
see, who cares to turn to vol. viii., pp. 120, 122, 166, 173, 182, 187, of the
Oxford edition of Johnson's works, 1825. We apprehend also that Bos¬
well, when he speaks of "the minute selection of characteristical circum¬
stances," did not mean to identify this with mere precision in the state¬
ment of dates, however praiseworthy such precision may be.—Editor.
1 The introductory passage to the life of Cave, the absence of which
in "all editions of Johnson's works" was lamented by Mr. Croker, was
given in the Oxford edition, published in 1825—six years before the first
edition of Mr. Croker's Boswell.—Editor.
JET. 45.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
207
years amused with a story1 confidently told, and as confidently
repeated with additional circumstances, that a sudden disgust
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 remember
having mentioned this story to George Lord Lyttelton, who
told me he was very intimate with Lord Chesterfield ; and,
holding it as a well-known truth, defended Lord Chesterfield
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 upon the eve of publication,
Lord Chesterfield, who, it is said, had flattered himself with
expectations that Johnson would dedicate the work to him,
attempted, in a courtly manner, to soothe and insinuate him¬
self with the sage, conscious, as it should seem, of the cold in¬
difference with which he had treated its learned author ; and
further attempted to conciliate him, by writing two papers in
" The World," in recommendation of the work: and it must be
confessed, that they contain some studied compliments, so
1 The story alluded to, Hawkins' Life, p. 189, was asserted, as we
see in the text, by Johnson, who was veracity itself, to be without
the least foundation. It has, therefore, no claim to appear here, but
should rather be regarded as stamped out of honourable existence.—
Editor.
208
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1754-
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 elegant accomplishments, he was peculiarly
gratified. His Lordship says,
" I think the public in general, and the republic of letters in parti¬
cular, are greatly obliged to Mr. Johnson for having undertaken and
executed so great and desirable a work. Perfection is not to be
expected from man; but if we are to judge by the various works of
Johnson already published, we have good reason to believe, that he
will bring this as near to perfection as any man could do. The Plan
of it, which he published some years ago, seems to me to be a proof
of it. Nothing can be more rationally imagined, or more accurately
and elegantly expressed. I therefore recommend the previous perusal
of it to all those who intend to buy the ' Dictionary,' and who, I sup¬
pose, are all those who can afford it."
" It must be owned, that our language is, at present, in a state of
anarchy, and hitherto, perhaps, it may not have been the worse for it.
During our free and open trade, many words and expressions have
been imported, adopted, and naturalized from other languages, which
have greatly enriched our own. Let it still preserve what real
strength and beauty it may have borrowed from others ; but let it not,
like the Tarpeian maid, be overwhelmed and crushed by unnecessary
ornaments. The time for discrimination seems to be now come.
Toleration, adoption, and naturalization have run their length. Good
order and authority are now necessary. But where shall we find
them, and, at the same time, the obedience due to them? We must
have recourse to the old Roman expedient in times of confusion, and
choose a dictator. Upon this principle, I give my vote for Mr. John¬
son to fill that great and arduous post. And I hereby declare, that
I make a total surrender of all my rights and privileges in the English
language, as a free-born British subject, to the said Mr. Johnson,
during the term of his dictatorship. Nay, more; I will not only
obey him like an old Roman, as my dictator, but, like a modern
Roman, I will implicitly believe in him as my Pope, and hold him to
be infallible while in the chair, but no longer. More than this he
cannot well require; for, I presume that obedience can never be ex¬
pected, when there is neither terror to enforce, nor interest to invite
it."
" But a Grammar, a Dictionary, and a History of our language
JET. 45.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
209
through its several stages, were still wanting at home, and importu¬
nately called for from abroad. Mr. Johnson's labours will now, I dare
say, very fully supply that want, and greatly contribute to the farther
spreading of our language in other countries. Learners were dis¬
couraged, by finding no standard to resort to; and, consequently,
thought it incapable of any. They will now be undeceived and
encouraged."
This courtly device failed of its efifect. Johnson, who
thought that " all was false and hollow," despised the honied
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, with¬
out being gratified. I for many years solicited Johnson to
favour 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;1 till at last, in 1781, when we were on a visit at
Mr. Dilley's, at Southill 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 handwriting. This he
1 Dr. Johnson appeared to have had a remarkable 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 Hardwicke, who was very desirous to hear it (pro-'
mising, 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 respectable 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. [This note first ap¬
peared in the second edition, vol. i., p. 232.—Editor.]
P
2IO
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1754.
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 tran¬
script of what the world has so eagerly desired to see.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL
OF CHESTERFIELD.
" February 7. 1755.
" My Lord,
" I have been lately informed by the proprietor of ' The
World,' that two papers, in which my ' Dictionary' is recommended
to the public, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished,
is an honour, which, being very little accustomed to favours from the
great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknow¬
ledge.
" When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lord¬
ship, 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 vainqveur du vainqueur de la terre;—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 past, since I waited in your out¬
ward 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 pub¬
lication, without one act of assistance,1 one word of encouragement,
or one smile of favour. 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.
1 The following note is subjoined by Mr. Langton ::—" Dr. Johnson,
when he gave me this copy of his letter, desired that I would annex to it
his information to me, that whereas it is said in the letter that ' no assis¬
tance has been received,' he did once receive from Lord Chesterfield the
sum of ten pounds ; but as that was so inconsiderable a sum, he thought
the mention of it could not properly find a place in a letter of the kind
that this was."
JET. 45.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
211
" Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern 011 a
man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground,
encumbers him with help ? The notice which you have been pleased
to take of my labours, 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;1 till I am known, and do not want it.
I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations 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 obligation to
any favourer 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."2
" While this was the talk of the town (says Dr. Adams in a
1 In this passage Dr. Johnson evidently alludes to the loss of his wife.
We find the same tender recollection recurring to his mind upon innume¬
rable occasions ; and, perhaps, no man ever more forcibly felt the truth of
the sentiment so elegantly expressed by my friend Mr. Malone, in his pro¬
logue to Mr. Jephson's tragedy of Julia :—
" Vain—wealth, and fame, and fortune's fostering care,
If no fond breast the splendid blessings share ;
And, each day's bustling pageantry once past,
There, only there, our bliss is found at last."
2 Upon comparing this copy with that which Dr. Johnson dictated to
me from recollection, the variations are found to be so slight, that this
must be added to the many other proofs which he gave of the wonderful
extent and accuracy of his memory. To gratify the curious in composi¬
tion, I have deposited both the copies in the British Museum. [The
last sentence—"to gratify," &c.—is added in the second edition.—
Editor.]
The Additional MS. 5713 contains the Langton copy.
It has this inscription at the beginning :—" Copy of Dr. Johnson's
Letter to Lord Chesterfield, and given by him to Bennet Langton, Esq.
" Presented to the British Museum in June, 1797, pursuant to the inten¬
tion of the late James Boswell, Esq." As with many documents which
were to be preserved among the archives at Auchinleck, or in the British
Museum, no Boswell copy of the letter to Lord Chesterfield is to be found
in the Museum.—Editor.
212 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1754.
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 honoured
him for his manly behaviour 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."1 Indeed, the force of mind which appeared in
this letter, was congenial with that which Warburton himself
amply possessed.
There is a curious minute circumstance which struck me, in
comparing the various editions of Johnson's "Imitations of
Juvenal." In the tenth Satire one of the couplets upon the
vanity of wishes even for literary distinction stood thus :—
" Yet think what ills the scholar's life assail,
Toil, envy, want, the garret, and the jail."
But after experiencing the uneasiness which Lord Chester¬
field's fallacious patronage made him feel, he dismissed the
word garret from the sad group, and in all the subsequent
editions the line stands
" Toil, envy, want, the Patron, and the jail."
That Lord Chesterfield must have been mortified by the
lofty contempt, and polite, yet keen, satire with which Johnson
exhibited him to himself in this letter, it is impossible to doubt.
He, however, with that glossy duplicity which was his constant
1 Soon after Edwards's Canons of Criticism came out, Johnson
was dining at Tonson the bookseller's, with Hayman the painter and
some more company. Hayman related to Sir Joshua Reynolds, that
the conversation having turned upon Edwards's book, the gentlemen
praised it much, and Johnson allowed its merit. But when they went
farther, and appeared to put that author upon a level with Warburton,
"Nay, (said Johnson) he has given him some smart hits to be sure;
but there is no proportion between the two men; they must not be
named together. A fly, Sir, may sting a stately horse and make him
wince ; but one is but an insect, and the other is a horse still." [Note
in second edition.]
See the fine passage in his preface to Shakespeare on Warburton and
his antagonists.—P. Cunningham.
MT. 45-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
213
study, affected to be quite unconcerned. Dr. Adams men¬
tioned to Mr. Robert Dodsley that he was sorry Johnson had
written his letter to Lord Chesterfield. Dodsley, with the true
feelings of trade, said " he was very sorry too ; for that he had
a property in the ' Dictionary,' to which his lordship's patron¬
age might have been of consequence." He then told Dr.
Adams, that Lord Chesterfield had shown him the letter. " I
should have imagined (replied Dr. Adams) that Lord Chester¬
field would have concealed it."—" Poh ! (said Dodsley), do you
think a letter from Johnson could hurt Lord Chesterfield ?
Not at all, sir. It lay upon his table, where any body might
see it. He read it to me ; said, ' This man has great powers,'
pointed out the severest passages, and observed how well they
were expressed." This air of indifference, which imposed
upon the worthy Dodsley, was certainly nothing but a speci¬
men of that dissimulation which Lord Chesterfield inculcated
as one of the most essential lessons for the conduct of life.
His lordship endeavoured to justify himself to Dodsley from
the charges brought against him by Johnson; but we may
judge from the flimsiness of his defence, from his having ex¬
cused his neglect of Johnson, by saying, that " he had heard he
had changed his lodgings, and did not know where he lived
as if there could have been the smallest difficulty to inform
himself of that circumstance, by inquiring in the literary circle
with which his lordship was well acquainted, and was, indeed,
himself, one of its ornaments.
Dr. Adams expostulated with Johnson, and suggested, that
his not being admitted when he called on him, was probably
not to be imputed to Lord Chesterfield ; for his lordship had
declared to Dodsley, that " he would have turned off the best
servant he ever had, if he had known that he denied him to a
man who would have been always more than welcome;" and
in confirmation of this, he insisted on Lord Chesterfield's
general affability and easiness of access, especially to literary
men. "Sir, (said Johnson) that is not Lord Chesterfield ; he
is the proudest man this day existing."—" No, (said Dr.
Adams) there is one person, at least, as proud ; I think, by
214
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1754.
your own account, you are the prouder man of the two."—
" But mine (replied Johnson instantly) was defensive pride."
This, as Dr. Adams well observed, was one of those happy
turns for which he was so remarkably ready.
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 !" And when his Letters to his natural
son were published, he observed, that " they teach the morals
of a whore, and the manners of a dancing master."1
The character of a " respectable Hottentot," in Lord Ches-
1 That collection of Letters cannot be vindicated from the serious
charge of encouraging, in some passages, one of the vices most destructive
to the good order and comfort of society, which his lordship represents as
mere fashionable gallantry; and, in others, of inculcating the base prac¬
tice of dissimulation, and recommending, with disproportionate anxiety, a
perpetual attention to external elegance of manners. But it must, at the
same time, be allowed, that they contain many good precepts of conduct,
and much genuine information upon life and manners, very happily ex¬
pressed ; and that there was considerable merit in paying so much atten¬
tion to the improvement of one who was dependent upon his lordship's
protection : it has, probably, been exceeded in no instance by the most
exemplary parent: and though I can by no means approve of confounding
the distinction between lawful and illicit offspring, which is, in effect,
insulting the civil establishment of our country, to look no higher ; I
cannot help thinking it laudable to be kindly attentive to those, of whose
existence we have, in any way, been the cause. Mr. Stanhope's character
has been unjustly represented as diametrically opposite to what Lord
Chesterfield wished him to be. He has been called dull, gross, and
awkward : but I knew him at Dresden, when he was envoy to that court;
and though he could not boast of the graces, he was, in truth, a sensible,
civil, well-behaved man.
In judging Lord Chesterfield's Letters, it should be recollected that they
were never intended for publication, and were written only to meet a
private, particular, and somewhat extraordinary case : and that it is hard
that Lord Chesterfield should be held responsible for a foiblication which
he never could have anticipated—but see (under date May, 1776) John¬
son's more favourable and just opinion of these letters, which, bating their
lax morality—not to be palliated even by the peculiar circumstances
under which they were written—are, I will venture to say, masterpieces
of good taste, good writing, and good sense.—Croker.
JET. 45.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
215
terfield's Letters, has been generally understood to be meant
for Johnson, and I have no doubt that it was.1 But I remem¬
ber when the Literary Property of those letters was contested
in the Court of Session in Scotland, and Mr. Henry Dundas,2
one of the counsel for the proprietors, read this character as an
exhibition of Johnson, Sir Dayid Dalrymple, 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 lord3 dis¬
tinguished 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."
On the 6th of March came out Lord Bolingbroke's works,
published by Mr. David Mallet. The wild and pernicious
ravings under the name of " Philosophy," which were thus
ushered into the world, gave great offence to all well-principled
men. Johnson, hearing of their tendency, which nobody dis¬
puted, was roused with a just indignation, and pronounced
this memorable sentence upon the noble author and his editor :
—" Sir, he was a scoundrel, and a coward : a scoundrel for
charging a blunderbuss against religion and morality; a
1 In the sixth chapter, pp. 214-229, of his book, Dr. Johnson, his
Friends, and his Critics, London, 1878, Dr. Birkbeck Hill shows, we
think, convincingly, that the respectable Hottentot could not be Johnson.
—Editor.
2 Afterwards Viscount Melville. He died in 1811.—Croker.
3 Probably George, second Earl of Macclesfield, who published, in
1751, a learned pamphlet on the alteration of the style, and was, in 1752,
elected President of the Royal Society. Lord Macclesfield's manner was,
no doubt, awkward and embarrassed, but little else in his character
resembles that of the "respectable Hottentot," which much more probably
was, as the world supposed, intended for Johnson.—Croker.
216
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1754-
coward, because he had not resolution to fire it off himself,
but left half-a-crown to a beggarly Scotchman, to draw the
trigger after his death!"1 Garrick, who, I can attest from
my own knowledge, had his mind seasoned with pious rever¬
ence, and sincerely disapproved of the infidel writings of several
whom in the course of his almost universal gay intercourse
with men of eminence he treated with external civility, distin¬
guished himself upon this occasion. Mr. Pelham having died
on the very day on which Lord Bolingbroke's works came out,
he wrote an elegant Ode on his death, beginning
" Let others hail the rising sun,
I bow to that whose course is run;"
in which is the following stanza :—
" The same sad morn, to Church and State
(So for our sins't was fix'd by Fate)
A double stroke was given ;
Black as the whirlwinds of the North,
St. John's fell genius issued forth,
And Pelham's fled to heaven."
Johnson this year found an interval of leisure to make an
excursion to Oxford, for the purpose of consulting the libraries
there. Of this, and of many interesting circumstances con¬
cerning him, during a part of his life when he conversed but
little with the world, I am enabled to give a particular account,
1 Mallet's wife, a foolish and conceited woman, one evening introduced
herself to David Hume, at an assembly, saying, " We deists, Mr. Hume,
should know one another." Hume was exceedingly displeased and dis¬
concerted, and replied, "Madam, I am no deist; I do not so style myself,
neither do I desire to be known by that appellation."—Hardy's Life of
Lord Charlemont, vol. i., p. 235. Boswell himself tells the same story in
his Hypochondriac. This imputation would, even on mere worldly
grounds, be very disagreeable to Hume ; for I have in my possession
proof that when Lord Hertford (whose secretary, in his embassy to Paris,
Hume had been) was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, his lordship
declined continuing him in the same character, alleging as a reason the
dissatisfaction that it would excite on account of Hume's anti-religious
rinciples.—Croker.
/ET. 45.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
217
by the liberal communications of the Rev. Mr. Thomas War-
ton, who obligingly furnished me with several of our common
friend's letters, which he illustrated with notes. These I shall
insert in their proper places.
TO THE REV. MR. THOMAS WARTON.
" London, July 16. 1754.
" Sir,
"It is but an ill return for the book with which you were
pleased to favour me,1 to have delayed my thanks for it till now. I
am too apt to be negligent; but I can never deliberately show my
disrespect to a man of your character; and I now pay you a very
honest acknowledgment, for the advancement of the literature of our
native country. You have shown to all, who shall hereafter attempt
the study of our ancient authors, the way to success; by directing
them to the perusal of the books which those authors had read. Of this
method, Hughes,2 and men much greater than Hughes, seem never
to have thought. The reason why the authors, which are yet read, of
the sixteenth century, are so little understood, is, that they are read
alone ; and no help is borrowed from those who lived with them, or
before them. Some part of this ignorance I hope to remove by my
book,3 which now draws towards its end; but which I cannot finish
to my mind, without visiting the libraries of Oxford, which I therefore
hope to see in about a fortnight.4 I know not how long I shall stay,
or where I shall lodge; but shall be sure to look for you at my arrival,
and we shall easily settle the rest. I am dear Sir, your most obe¬
dient, &c. " Sam. Johnson."
Of his conversation while at Oxford at this time, Mr. Warton
preserved and communicated to me the following memorial,
which, though not written with all the care and attention
which that learned and elegant writer bestowed on those com¬
positions which he intended for the public eye, is so happily
1 Observations on Spenser's Fairy Queen, the first edition of which was
now published.— Warton.
2 Hughes published an edition of Spenser.— Warton.
3 His Dictionary.
4 He came to Oxford within a fortnight, and stayed about five weeks.
He lodged at Kettel Hall, near Trinity College. But during his visit, he
collected nothing in the libraries for his Dictionary.— Warton.
218
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1754-
expressed in an easy style, that I should injure it by any
alteration.
"When Johnson came to Oxford in 1754, the long vacation was
beginning, and most people were leaving the place. This was the
first time of his being there, after quitting the University. The next
morning after his arrival, he wished to see his old college, Pembroke.
I went with him. He was highly pleased to find all the college-
servants which he had left there still remaining, particularly a very
old butler; and expressed great satisfaction at being recognized by
them, and conversed with them familiarly. He waited on the master,
Dr. Radcliffe, who received him very coldly. Johnson at least ex¬
pected that the master would order a copy of his ' Dictionary,' now
near publication ; but the master did not choose to talk on the sub¬
ject, never asked Johnson to dine, nor even to visit him, while he
staid at Oxford. After we had left the lodgings, Johnson said to me,
' There lives a man, who lives by the revenues of literature, and will
not move a finger to support it. If I come to live at Oxford, I shall
take up my abode at Trinity.'1 We then called on the Reverend
Mr. Meeke, one of the fellows, and of Johnson's standing. Here was
a most cordial greeting on both sides. On leaving him, Johnson
said, ' I used to think Meeke had excellent parts, when we were boys
together at the college : but, alas !
' Lost in a convent's solitary gloom !'—
" ' I remember, at the classical lecture in the Hall, I could not bear
Meeke's superiority, and I tried to sit as far from him as I could, that
I might not hear him construe.'
" As we were leaving the college, he said,' Here I translated Pope's
' Messiah.' Which do you think is the best line in it?—My own favou¬
rite is,
' Vallis aromaticas fundit Saronica nubes.'
I told him, I thought it a very sonorous hexameter. I did not tell
him, it was not in the Virgilian style. He much regretted that his
first tutor was dead; for whom he seemed to retain the greatest
regard. He said, ' I once had been a whole morning sliding in Christ-
Church meadows, and missed his lecture in logic. After dinner he
sent for me to his room. I expected a sharp rebuke for my idleness,
and went with a beating heart. When we were seated, he told me
1 Mr. Warton's own College.—Croker.
&ul*T.S. r> LuJi.jfcol/.'
EESIDSnSTCE OF THE HEVD D1? SBAETCIS "WISE, AT EIX SFLELT) .tTEAR OXFORD.
JET. 45-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
219
he had sent for me to drink a glass of wine with him, and to tell me,
he was not angry with me for missing his lecture. This was, in fact,
a most severe reprimand. Some more of the boys were then sent
for, and we spent a very pleasant afternoon.' Besides Mr. Meeke,
there was only one other fellow of Pembroke now resident: from both
of whom Johnson received the greatest civilities during this visit, and
they pressed him very much to have a room in the college.
"In the course of this visit Johnson and I walked three or four
times to Ellesfield, a village beautifully situated about three miles
from Oxford, to see Mr. Wise, Radclivian librarian, with whom
Johnson was much pleased. At this place, Mr. Wise had fitted up a
house and gardens, in a singular manner, but with great taste. Here
was an excellent library, particularly a valuable collection of books in
Northern literature, with which Johnson was often very busy. One
day Mr. Wise read to us a dissertation which he was preparing for the
press, entitled ' A History and Chronology of the Fabulous Ages.'
Some old divinities of Thrace, related to the Titans, and called the
Cabiri, made a very important part of the theory of this piece; and in
conversation afterwards, Mr. Wise talked much of his Cabiri. As we
returned to Oxford in the evening, I outwalked Johnson, and he
cried out Sufflamina, a Latin word which came from his mouth with
a peculiar grace, and was as much as to say, Put on your drag chain.
Before we got home, I again walked too fast for him; and he now
cried out, ' Why, you walk as if you were pursued by all the Cabiri in
a body.' In an evening we frequently took long walks from Oxford
into the country, returning to supper. Once, in our way home, we
viewed the ruins of the abbeys of Oseney and Rewley, near Oxford.
After at least half an hour's silence, Johnson said, ' I viewed them
with indignation!' We had then a long conversation on Gothic
buildings; and in talking of the form of old halls, he said, ' In these
halls, the fire-place was anciently always in the middle of the room,
till the Whigs removed it on one side.' About this time there had
been an execution of two or three criminals at Oxford on a Monday.
Soon afterwards, one day at dinner, I was saying that Mr. Swinton,
the chaplain of the gaol, and also a frequent preacher before the uni¬
versity, a learned man, but often thoughtless and absent, preached
the condemnation sermon on repentance, before the convicts, on the
preceding day, Sunday; and that in the close he told his audience,
that he should give them the remainder of what he had to say on the
subject the next Lord's Day. Upon which one of our company, a doctor
of divinity, and a plain matter-of-fact man, by way of offering an apology
220
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I754-
for Mr. Swinton, gravely remarked, that he had probably preached
the same sermon before the university: 'Yes, Sir (says Johnson),
but the university were not to be hanged the next morning.'
" I forgot to observe before, that when he left Mr. Meeke (as I
have told above), he added, ' About the same time of life, Meeke was
left behind at Oxford to feed on a fellowship, and I went to London
to get my living : now, Sir, see the difference of our literary cha¬
racters !'"
The following letter was written by Dr. Johnson to Mr.
Chambers, of Lincoln College, now Sir Robert Chambers, one
of the judges in India i1
TO MR. CHAMBERS, OF LINCOLN COLLEGE.
" London, Nov. 21. 1754.
" Dear Sir,
" The commission which I delayed to trouble you with at
your departure, I am now obliged to send you ; and beg that you will
be so kind as to carry it to Mr. Warton, of Trinity, to whom I should
have written immediately, but that I know not if he be yet come
back to Oxford.
"In the catalogue of MSS. of Gr. Brit., see vol. i. page 18. MSS.
Bodl. Martyrium xv. martyrum sub Juliano, auctore Theophylacto.
"It is desired that Mr. Warton will inquire, and send word, what
will be the cost of transcribing this manuscript.
"Vol. ii. p. 32. Num. 1022. 58. Coll. Nov.—Commentaria in Acta
Apostol.—Comment, in Septem Epistolas Catholicas.
" He is desired to tell what is the age of each of these manuscripts ;
and what it will cost to have a transcript of the two first pages of
each.
" If Mr. Warton be not in Oxford, you may try if you can get it
1 Communicated by the Reverend Mr. Thomas Warton, who had the
original.
Sir Robert Chambers was born in 1737, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, and
educated at the same school with Lord Stowell and his brother, the Earl
of Eldon, and afterwards (like them) a member of University College. It
was by visiting Chambers, when a fellow of University, that Johnson be¬
came acquainted with Lord Stowell; and when Chambers went to India,
Lord Stowell, as he expressed it to me, " seemed to succeed to his place
in Johnson's friendship."—Croker.
JET. 45.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
221
done by any body else; or stay till he comes, according to your own
convenience. It is for an Italian literato.
" The answer is to be directed to his Excellency Mr. Zon, Venetian
Resident, Soho Square.
" I hope, dear Sir, that you do not regret the change of London
for Oxford. Mr. Baretti is well, and Miss Williams ; and we shall all
be glad to hear from you, whenever you shall be so kind as to write
to, Sir, your most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
The degree of Master of Arts, which, it has been observed,
could not be obtained for him at an early period of his life,
was now considered as an honour of considerable importance,
in order to grace the title-page of his " Dictionary;" and his
character in the literary world being by this time deservedly-
high, his friends thought that, if proper exertions were made,
the University of Oxford would pay him the compliment.
TO THE REV. MR. THOMAS WARTON.
"[London,] Nov. 28. 1754.
" Dear Sir,
" I am extremely obliged to you and to Mr. Wise, for the un¬
common care which you have taken of my interest;1 if you can ac¬
complish your kind design, I shall certainly take me a little habita
tion among you.
" The books which I promised to Mr. Wise,2 I have not been yet
able to procure : but I shall send him a Finnick Dictionary, the only
copy, perhaps, in England, which was presented me by a learned Swede:
but I keep it back, that it may make a set of my own books of the
new edition, with which I shall accompany it, more welcome. You
will assure him of my gratitude.
" Poor dear Collins !3—Would a letter give him any pleasure ? I
have a mind to write.
1 In procuring him the degree of M.A., by diploma, at Oxford.—
Warton.
2 Lately Fellow of Trinity College, and at this time Radclivian Librarian
at Oxford. He was a man of very considerable learning, and eminently
skilled in Roman and Anglo-Saxon antiquities. He died in 1767.—
Warton.
3 Collins (the poet) was at this time at Oxford, on a visit to Mr.
222
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
17 54-
" I am glad of your hindrance in your Spenserian design,1 yet I
would not have it delayed. Three hours a day stolen from sleep and
amusement will produce it. Let a Servitour2 transcribe the quota¬
tions, and interleave them with references, to save time This will
shorten the work, and lessen the fatigue.
" Can I do anything to promoting the diploma ? I would not be
wanting to co-operate with your kindness; of which, whatever be the
effect, I shall be, dear Sir, your most obliged, &c.
"Sam. Johnson."
Warton ; but labouring under the most deplorable languor of body, and
dejection of mind.— Warton.
In a letter to Dr. Joseph Warton, written some months before (March 8,
1754), Dr. Johnson thus speaks of Collins: " But how little can we venture
to exult in any intellectual power or literary attainments, when we con¬
sider the condition of poor Collins. I knew him a few years ago full of
hopes and full of projects, versed in many languages, high in fancy, and
strong in retention. This busy and forcible mind is now under the
government of those who lately would not have been able to comprehend
the least and most narrow of its designs. What do you hear of him ?
Are there hopes of his recovery ? Or is he to pass the remainder of his
life in misery and degradation ? perhaps with complete consciousness of
his calamity.—P. 219.
In a subsequent letter to the same gentleman (Dec. 24, 1754) he thus
feelingly alludes to their unfortunate friend : " Poor, dear Collins ! Let
me know whether you think it would give him pleasure if I should write
to him. I have often been near his state, and therefore have it in great
commiseration."— P. 229.
Again, April 9, 1756 : "What becomes of poor dear Collins? I wrote
him a letter which he never answered. I suppose writing is very trouble¬
some to him. That man is no common loss. The moralists all talk of
the uncertainty of fortune, and the transitoriness of beauty ; but it is yet
more dreadful to consider that the powers of the mind are equally liable
to change, that understanding may make its appearance and depart, that
it may blaze and expire."—P. 239.
See Biographical Memoirs of the late Reverend Dr. Joseph Warton, by
the Reverend John Wool, A.M. 4to. 1806. Mr. Collins, who was the
son of a hatter at Chichester, was born December 25, 1720, and was re¬
leased from the dismal state here so pathetically described in 1756.—
Malone.
1 Of publishing a volume of observations on Spenser. It was hindered
by my taking pupils in this College.— Warton.
2 Young students of the lowest rank are so called.— Warton.
JET. 45-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
223
TO THE SAME.
"[London,] Dec. 21, 1754.
"Dear Sir,
" I am extremely sensible of the favour done me, both by Mr.
Wise and yourself. The book1 cannot, I think, be printed in less
than six weeks, nor probably so soon; and I will keep back the title-
page for such an insertion as you seem to promise me. Be pleased
to let me know what money I shall send you, for bearing the expense
of the affair [of the degree]; and I will take care that you may have
it ready at your hand.
" I had lately 4the favour of a letter from your brother, with some
account of poor Collins, for whom I am much concerned. I have a
notion, that by very great temperance, or more properly abstinence,
he may yet recover.
" There is an old English and Latin book of poems by Barclay,
called 'The Ship of Fools;' at the end of which are a number of
Eglogues,—so he writes it, from Egloga,—which are probably the first
in our language. If you cannot find the book, I will get Mr. Dods-
ley to send it you.
" I shall be extremely glad to hear from you soon, to know if the
affair proceeds. I have mentioned it to none of my friends, for fear
of being laughed at for my disappointment.
"You know poor Mr. Dodsley has lost his wife; I believe he is
much affected. I hope he will not suffer so much as I yet suffer for
the loss of mine.
O'ifiot' tl <T 0'1/uoi; BvijTa yap 7r£7royda/xsp.2
I have ever since seemed to myself broken off from mankind; a kind
of solitary wanderer in the wild of life, without any direction, or fixed
point of view; a gloomy gazer on the world, to which I have little
relation. Yet I would endeavour, by the help of you and your
brother, to supply the want.of closer union by friendship ; and hope
to have long the pleasure of being, dear Sir, most affectionately
yours, "Sam. Johnson."
In 1755 we behold him to great advantage; his degree of
Master of Arts conferred upon him, his Dictionary published,
his correspondence animated, his benevolence exercised.
1 His Dictionary.— Warton. 2 Eurip. Belleroph. Frag. 24 D.
224
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON.
"[London,] Feb. i. 1755.
" Dear Sir,
" I wrote to you some weeks ago, but believe did not direct
accurately, and therefore know not whether you had my letter. I
would, likewise, write to your brother, but know not where to find
him. I now begin to see land, after having wandered, according to
Mr. Warburton's phrase, in this vast sea of words. What reception
I shall meet with on the shore, I know not: whether the sound of
bells, and acclamations of the people, which Ariosto talks of in his
last Canto,1 or a general murmur of dislike, I know not: whether I
shall find upon the coast a Calypso that will court, or a Polypheme
that will eat me. But if Polypheme comes, have at his eye. I hope,
however, the critics will let me be at peace; for though I do not
much fear their skill and strength, I am a little afraid of myself,
and would not willingly feel so much ill-will in my bosom as literary
quarrels are apt to excite.
" Mr. Baretti is about a work for which he is in great want of Cres-
cimbeni, which you may have again when you please.
"There is nothing considerable done or doing among us here.
We are not, perhaps, as innocent as villagers, but most of us seem to
be as idle. I hope, however, you are busy ; and should be glad to
know what you are doing. I am, dearest Sir, your humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
"[London,] Feb. 4. 1755.
" Dear Sir,
" I received your letter this day, with great sense of the favour
that has been done me ;2 for which I return my most sincere thanks:
and entreat you to pay to Mr. Wise such returns as I ought to make
for so much kindness so little deserved.
1 " Sento venir per allegrezza un tuono
Che fremar 1' aria, e rimbombar fa 1' onde :
Odo di squille," &c.
Orlando Furioso, c. xlvi. s. 2.— Wright.
2 His degree had now past the suffrages of the heads of colleges ; but
was not yet finally granted by the university : it was carried without a
dissentient voice.— Warton.
MT. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
225
" I sent Mr. Wise the Lexicon, and afterwards wrote to him; but
know not whether he had either the book or letter. Be so good
as to contrive to inquire.
" But why does my dear Mr. Warton tell me nothing of himself?
Where hangs the new volume ?1 Can I help ? Let not the past
labour be lost, for want of a little more: but snatch what time you
can from the Hall, and the pupils, and the coffee-house, and the
Parks,2 and complete your design. I am, dear Sir, &c.
"Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
"[London,] Feb. 13. 1755.
"Dear Sir,
" I had a letter last week from Mr. Wise, but have yet heard
nothing from you, nor know in what state my little affair stands; of
which I beg you to inform me, if you can, to-morrow, by the return
of the post.
" Mr. Wise sends me word, that he has not had the Finnick Lexi¬
con yet, which I sent some time ago; and if he has it not, you must
inquire after it. However, do not let your letter stay for that.
" Your brother, who is a better correspondent than you, and not
much better, sends me word, that your pupils keep you in College:
but do they keep you from writing too ? Let them at least give you
time to write to, dear Sir, your most affectionate, &c.,
"Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
"[London,] Feb. 1755.
"Dear Sir,
*
" Dr. King3 was with me a few minutes before your letter;
this, however, is the first instance in which your kind intentions to
1 On Spenser.— Warton.
2 The walks near Oxford so called.—Croker.
3 Principal of Saint Mary Hall, at Oxford. He brought with him the
diploma from Oxford.— Warton.
Dr. William King was born in 1685 ; entered of Baliol, 1701 ; D.C.L ,
1715 ; and Principal of Saint Mary Hall in 1718. In 1722, he was a
candidate for the representation of the university in Parliament, in the
Tory interest; but was defeated. He was a wit and a scholar, and, in
particular, celebrated for his latinity; highly obnoxious to the Hanoverian
Q
226
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
me have ever been frustrated.1 I have now the full effect of your care
and benevolence ; and am far from thinking it a slight honour or a small
advantage ; since it will put the enjoyment of your conversation more
frequently in the power of, dear Sir, your most obliged and affec¬
tionate, "Sam. Johnson."
" P.S. I have enclosed a letter to the Vice-Chancellor, which you
will read; and, if you like it, seal and give him."
As the public will doubtless be pleased to see the whole pro¬
gress of this well-earned academical honour, I shall insert the
Chancellor of Oxford's letter to the University,2 the diploma,
and Johnson's letter of thanks to the Vice-Chancellor.
TO THE REV. DR. HUDDESFORD,
[President of Trinity College,] Vice-Chancellor of the University of Ox¬
ford ; to "be communicated to the Heads of Houses, and proposed in
Convocation.
" Grosvenor Street, Feb. 4. 1755.
"Mr. Vice-Chancellor, and Gentlemen ;—
" Mr. Samuel Johnson, who was formerly of Pembroke Col¬
lege, having very eminently distinguished himself by the publication
of a series of essays, excellently calculated to form the manners of
the people, and in which the cause of religion and morality is every¬
where maintained by the strongest powers of argument and language ;
and who shortly intends to publish a Dictionary of the English
tongue, formed on a new plan, and executed with the greatest labour
and judgment; I persuade myself that I shall act agreeably to the
sentiments of the whole university, in desiring that it may be pro¬
posed in convocation to confer on him the degree of Master of Arts
party, and the idol of the Jacobites. It appears from his Anecdotes of his
own Times, published in 1819, that he was one of those intrusted with the
knowledge of the Pretender's being in London in the latter end of the reign
of George the Second, where Dr. King was introduced to him. His Me¬
moirs say, in 1750; but this is supposed to be an error of the press or
transcriber for 1753. He died in 1763.—Croker.
1 I suppose Johnson means, that my kind intention of being the first to
give him the good news of the degree being granted was frustrated
because Dr. King brought it before my intelligence arrived.— Warton.
Dr. King was secretary to Lord Arran, as Chancellor of Oxford.—Croker.
2 Extracted from the Convocation Register, Oxford.
vET. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
227
by diploma, to which I readily give my consent; and am, Mr. Vice-
Chancellor, and Gentlemen, your affectionate friend and servant,
"Arran."
" CANCELLARIUS, Magistri, et Scholares Universitatis Oxoni-
ensis omnibus ad quos hoc presens scriptum pervenerit, salutem in Do¬
mino sempiternam.
" CV/w eum in finem gradus academici a majoribus nostris instituti
fuerint, ut viri ingenio et doctrina prcestantes titulis quoque prcKtor ccete-
ros insignirentur; cumque vir doctissimus Samuel Johnson e Collegio
Pembrochiensi, scriptis suis popularium mores informantibus dudum
literato orbi innotuerit; quin et lingua patrice turn ornandce turn stabi-
liendce. (.Lexicon scilicet Anglicanum summo studio, summo a se judicio
congestum propediem editurus) etiam nunc utilissimam impendat operam ;
Nos igitur Cancellarius, Magistri, et Scholares antedicti, ne virum de
Uteris humanioribus optime meritum diutius inhonoratum prcetereamus,
in solenni Convocatione Doctorum, Magistrorum, Regentium, et non
Regentium, decimo die Mensis Februarii Anno Domini Millesimo Sep-
iingentisimo Quinquagesimo quinto habit a, prcefatum virum Samuelem
Johnson (conspirantibus omnium suffragiis) Magistrum in Artibus re-
nunciavimus et constituimus ; eumque, virtute prcesentis diplo7natis, sin¬
gulis juribus, privilegiis, et honoribus ad istum gradum quaqua pertinen-
tibus frui et gaudere jussimus.
" In cujus rei testimonium sigillum Universitatis Oxoniensis prcesen-
tibus apponi fecimus.
" Datum in Domo nostrce Convocations die 20° Mensis Feb. Anno
Dom. prcedicto.
"Diploma supra scriptum per Registrarium ledum erat, et ex decreto
venerabilis Domus communi Universitatis sigillo munitum." 1
" Londini, 4to Cal. Mart. 1755.
" VIRO REVERENDO [GEORGIO] HUDDESFORD, S.T.P.
Universitatis Oxoniensis Vice-Cancellario Dignissimo, S.P.D.
"Sam. Johnson.
" INGR A T US plan} et tibi et mihi videar, nisi quanto me gaudio
affecerint, quos nuper mihi honores (te, credo, auctore), decrevit Senatus
Term. Sctl.
Hilarii.
1755-
" DIPLOMA MAGISTRI
JOHNSON.
1 The original is in my possession.
It now belongs to Mr. Pocock.—Croker.
228
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
Academicus, literarum, quo tauten nihil levius officio, significem; ingratus
etiam, nisi comitatem, qua vir eximius 1 mihi vestri testimonium amoris
in manus tradidit, agnoscam et laudem. Si quid est, unde rei tarn grata
accedat gratia, hoc ipso magis mihi placet, quod eo tempore in ordines
Academicos denuo cooptatus sim, quo tuai?i imminuere auctoritatem, fa-
mamque Oxonii hzdere, omnibus modis conantur homines vafri, nec
tamen acuti: quibus ego, prout viro umbratico licuit, semper restiti,
semper restiturus. Qui enim, inter has rerum procellas, vel tibi vel
Academics, defuerit, ilium virtuti et Uteris, sibique et poster is, defuturum
existimo. Vale."
TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON.
" [London,] March 20. 1755.
" Dear Sir.
" After I received my diploma, I wrote you a letter of thanks,
with a letter to the Vice-Chancellor, and sent another to Mr. Wise;
but have heard from nobody since, and begin to think myself for¬
gotten. It is true, I sent you a double letter, and you may fear an
expensive correspondent; but I would have taken it kindly, if you
had returned it treble; and what is a double letter to a petty king,
that having fellowship and fines, can sleep without a Modus in his
headV
" Dear Mr. Warton, let me hear from you, and tell me something,
I care not what, so I hear it but from you. Something, I will tell
you:—I hope to see my Dictionary bound and lettered, next week;
—vastd mole superbus. And I have a great mind to come to Oxford
at Easter; but you will not invite me. Shall I come uninvited, or
stay here where nobody perhaps would miss me if I went ? A hard
choice ! But such is the world to, dear Sir, yours, &c.,
"Sam. Johnson."3
1 We may conceive what a high gratification it must have been to
Johnson to receive his diploma from the hands of the great Dr. King,
whose principles were so congenial with his own.
2 The words in italics are allusions to passages in Mr. Warton's poem,
called the Progress of Discontent, now lately published.— Warton.
3 The following extract of a letter from Thomas Warton to his brother
will show his first sentiments on this great work :—" 19th April, 1755.
The Dictionary is arrived ; the preface is noble. There is a grammar
prefixed, and the history of the language is pretty full; but you may
plainly perceive strokes of laxity and indolence. They are two most un¬
wieldy volumes. I have written him an invitation. I fear his preface
^ET. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
229
TO THE SAME.
"[London,] March 25. 1755.
" Dear Sir,
" Though not to write when a man can write so well, is an
offence sufficiently heinous, yet I shall pass it by. I am very glad
that the Vice-Chancellor was pleased with my note. I shall im¬
patiently expect you at London, that we may consider what to do
next. I intend in the winter to open a Bibliotheque, and remember,
that you are to subscribe a sheet a year : let us try, likewise, if we
cannot persuade your brother to subscribe another. My book is now
coming i?i luminis oras. What will be its fate I know not, nor think
much, because thinking is to no purpose. It must stand the censure
of the great vulgar, and the small; of those that understand it, and that
understand it not. But in all this, I suffer not alone ; every writer
has the same difficulties, and, perhaps, every writer talks of them more
than he thinks.
" You will be pleased to make my compliments to all my friends ;
and be so kind, at every idle hour, as to remember, dear Sir, yours,«&c.
" Sam. Johnson."
Dr. Adams told me, that this scheme of a Bibliotheque was
a serious one: for upon his visiting him one day, he found
his parlour floor covered with parcels of foreign and English
literary journals, and he told Dr. Adams he meant to undertake
a Review. " How, Sir, (said Dr. Adams,) can you think of
doing it alone ? All branches of knowledge must be considered
in it. Do you know Mathematics? Do you know Natural
History?" Johnson answered, "Why, Sir, I must do as well
as I can. My chief purpose is to give my countrymen a view
of what is doing in literature upon the continent; and I shall
will disgust, by the expressions of his consciousness of superiority, and of
his contempt of patronage. The Rawlinson benefaction won't do for
Johnson, which is this—a professorship of £80 per annum, which is not
to take place these forty years ; a fellowship to Hertford College, which
is too ample for them to receive agreeably to Newton's statutes ; and a
fellowship to St. John's College. Neither of the last are to take place
these forty years." By the Rawlinson benefaction, Dr. Hall understood
the Anglo-Saxon professorship which was founded in 1750, but did not
take effect before 1795.— Croker.
230
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
have, in a good measure, the choice of my subject, for I shall
select such books as I best understand." Dr. Adams sug¬
gested, that as Dr. Maty had just then finished his Biblio-
thZque Britannique, which was a well executed work, giving
foreigners an account of British publications, he might, with
great advantage, assume him as an assistant. "He (said
Johnson), the little black dog! I'd throw him into the
Thames."1 The scheme, however, was dropped.
In one of his little memorandum books I find the .following
hints for his intended Review or Literary Journal; " The
Annals of Literature, foreign as well as domestic. Imitate Le
Clerc—Bayle—Barbeyrac. Infelicity of Journals in England.
Works of the learned. We cannot take in all. Sometimes
copy from foreign Journalists. Always tell."
TO DR. BIRCH.
" March 29. 1755.
"Sir,
" I have sent some parts of my Dictionary, such as were at
hand, for your inspection. The favour which I beg is, that if you do
not like them, you will say nothing. I am, Sir, your most affectionate
humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
1 Matthew Maty, M.D. and F.R.S., was born in Holland in 1718, and
educated at Leyden, but he came in 1740 to settle in England. He
became secretary to the Royal Society in 1765, and in 1772, principal
librarian of the British Museum. Maty being the friend and admirer of
Lord Chesterfield, whose works he afterwards published, would, as Dr.
Hall observes, particularly at this period, have little recommendation to
the good opinion of the lexicographer; but his Journal Britannique is
mentioned by Mr. Gibbon in a tone very different from Dr. Johnson's.
" This humble though useful labour, which had once been dignified by
the genius of Bayle and the learning of Le Clerc, was not disgraced by
the taste, the knowledge, and the judgment of Maty. His style is pure
and eloquent, and in his virtues or even in his defects he maybe reckoned
as one of the last disciples of the school of Fontenelle." My Life and
Writings, Misc. Works, vol. i., p. 87, 4to. ed. Dr. Maty died in 1776.—-
Croker.
jet. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
231
TO MR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" Norfolk Street, April 3. 1755.
" SlK,
" The part of your Dictionary which you have favoured me
with the sighLof has given me such an idea of the whole, that I must
sincerely congratulate the public upon the acquisition of a work long
wanted, and now executed with an industry, accuracy, and judgment
equal to the importance of the subject. You might, perhaps, have
chosen one in which your genius would have appeared to more ad¬
vantage, but you could not have fixed upon any other in which your
labours would have done such substantial service to the present age
and posterity. I am glad that your health has supported the appli¬
cation necessary to the performance of so vast a task ; and can under¬
take to promise you as one (though perhaps the only) reward of it,
the approbation and thanks of every well-wisher to the honour of the
English language. I am, with the greatest regard, Sir, your most
faithful and most affectionate humble servant, "Tho. Birch." •
Mr. Charles Burney, who has since distinguished himself so
much in the science of music, and obtained a Doctor's degree
from the University of Oxford, had been driven from the
capital by bad health, and was now residing at Lynne Regis
in Norfolk. He had been so delighted with Johnson's " Ram¬
bler," and the plan of his Dictionary, that when the great work
was announced in the newspapers as nearly finished, he wrote
to Dr. Johnson, begging to be informed when and in what
manner his Dictionary would be published ; intreating, if it
should be by subscription, or he should have any books at his
own disposal, to be favoured with six copies for himself and
friends.
In answer to this application, Dr. Johnson wrote the follow¬
ing letter, of which (to use Dr. Burney's own words) " if it be
remembered that it was written to an obscure young man, who
at this time had not much distinguished himself even in his
own profession, but whose name could never have reached the
author of'The Rambler,' the politeness and urbanity may be
opposed to some of the stories which have been lately circu¬
lated of Dr. Johnson's natural rudeness and ferocity."
232
boswell's life of johnson.
1755-
TO MR. BURNEY, IN LYNNE REGIS, NORFOLK.
" Gough Square, Fleet Street, April 8. 1755.
" Sir,
" If you imagine that by delaying my answer I intended to
shew any neglect of the notice with which you have favoured me, you
will neither think justly of yourself nor of me. Your civilities were
offered with too much elegance not to engage attention ; and I have
too much pleasure in pleasing men like you, not to feel very sensibly
the distinction which you have bestowed upon me.
" Few consequences of my endeavours to please or to benefit man¬
kind have delighted me more than your friendship thus voluntarily
offered, which now I have it I hope to keep, because I hope to con¬
tinue to deserve it.
" I have no Dictionaries to dispose of for myself, but shall be glad
to have you direct your friends to Mr. Dodsley, because it was by his
recommendation that I was employed in the work.
" When you have leisure to think again upon me, let me be
favoured with another letter; and another yet, when you have looked
into my Dictionary. If you find faults, I shall endeavour to mend
them ; if you find none, I shall think you blinded by kind partiality :
but to have made you partial in his favour, will very much gratify the
ambition of, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
Mr. Andrew Millar, bookseller in the Strand, took the prin¬
cipal charge of conducting the publication of Johnson's Dic¬
tionary ; and as the patience of the proprietors was repeatedly
tried and almost exhausted, by their expecting that the work
would be completed within the time which Johnson had san-
guinely supposed, the learned author was often goaded to dis¬
patch, 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 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." 1 It is remarkable, that
1 Sir John Hawkins, p. 341, inserts two notes as having passed formally
JET. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
233
those with whom Johnson chiefly contracted for his literary-
labours 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 conse¬
quence 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.1
Mr. Strahan's liberality, judgment and success, are well known.
TO BENNET LANGTON,2 ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR
SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.
" May 6. 1755.
" Sir,
" It has been long observed, that men do not suspect faults
which they do not commit; your own elegance of manners, and
punctuality of complaisance, did not suffer you to impute to me that
negligence of which I was guilty, and [for] which I have not since
atoned. I received both your letters, and received them with plea¬
sure proportionate to the esteem which so short an acquaintance
strongly impressed, and which I hope to confirm by nearer know¬
ledge, though I am afraid that gratification will be for a time with¬
held.
" I have, indeed, published my book,3 of which I beg to know
between Andrew Millar and Johnson, to the above effect. I am assured
this was not the case. In the way of incidental remark it was a pleasant
play of raillery. To have deliberately written notes in such terms would
have been morose.
1 Charles Joseph Panckoucke, a celebrated French publisher, the son of
Andre-Joseph Panckoucke, also an eminent publisher, was born at Lille,
November 26, and died at Paris, December 19, 1798. He published for
Buffon, Rousseau, and Voltaire. He regenerated the Mercure de France,
increasing the number of its subscribers to 15,000. He founded also the
Moniteur, the first number of which appeared, November 24, 1789, and
which continues to this day to be the official journal of the French
Government. Nouv. Biograph. Generale, Didot, art. Panckoucke.—
Editor.
2 First inserted in the third edition, vol. i., p. 254.—Editor.
3 His Dictionary.
234
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
your father's judgment, and yours ; and I have now staid long enough
to watch its progress in the world. It has, you see, no patrons, and,
I think, has yet had no opponents, except the critics of the coffee¬
house, whose outcries are soon dispersed into the air, and are thought
on no more : from this, therefore, I am at liberty, and think of taking
the opportunity of this interval to make an excursion, and why not
then into Lincolnshire ? or, to mention a stronger attraction, why not
to dear Mr. Langton? I will give the true reason, which I know
you will approve :—I have a mother more than eighty years old, who
has counted the days to the publication of my book, in hopes of
seeing me; and to her, if I can disengage myself here, I resolve
to go.
" As I know, dear Sir, that to delay my visit for a reason like this,
will not deprive me of your esteem, I beg it may not lessen your
kindness. I have very seldom received an offer of friendship which
I so earnestly desire to cultivate and mature. I shall rejoice to hear
from you, till I can see you, and will see you as soon as I can ; for
when the duty that calls me to Lichfield is discharged, my inclination
will carry me to Langton. I shall delight to hear the ocean roar,1
or see the stars twinkle, in the company of men to whom Nature does
not spread her volumes or utter her voice in vain.
" Do not, dear Sir, make the slowness of this letter a precedent for
delay, or imagine that I approve the incivility that I have committed;
for I have known you enough to love you, and sincerely to wish a
further knowledge; and I assure you, once more, that to live in a
house that contains such a father and such a son, will be accounted
a very uncommon degree of pleasure, by, dear Sir, your most obliged
and most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson/'
TO THE REV. MR. THOMAS WARTON.
"[London,] May 13. 1755.
" Dear Sir,
" I am grieved that you should think me capable of neglecting
your letters ; and beg you will never admit any such suspicion again.
I purpose to come down next week, if you shall be there; or any
other week, that shall be more agreeable to you. Therefore let me
know. I can stay this visit but a week, but intend to make prepara¬
tions for a longer stay next time; being resolved not to lose sight of
1 Langton, however, is ten or twelve miles from the coast.—Croker.
JET. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
235
the University. How goes Apollonius?1 Don't let him be for¬
gotten. Some things of this kind must be done, to keep us up. Pay
my compliments to Mr. Wise, and all my other friends. I think to
come to Kettel-Hall.2 I am, Sir, your most affectionate, &c.,
" Samj Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
"[London,] June 10. 1755.
" Dear Sir,
" It is strange how many things will happen to intercept every
pleastire, though it [be] only that of two friends meeting together. I
have promised myself every day to inform you when you might expect
me at Oxford, and have not been able to fix a time. The time, how¬
ever, is, I think, at last come; and I promise myself to repose in
Kettel-Hall, one of the first nights of the next week. I am afraid my
stay with you cannot be long; but what is the inference ? We must
endeavour to make it cheerful. I wish your brother could meet us,
that we might go and drink tea with Mr Wise in a body. I hope he
will be at Oxford, or at his nest of British and Saxon antiquities.3 I
shall expect to see Spenser finished, and many other things begun.
Dodsley is gone to visit the Dutch. The Dictionary sells well. The
rest of the world goes on as it did. Dear Sir, your most affectionate,
&c., Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
" [London,] June 24. 1755.
" Dear Sir,
"To talk of coming to you, and not yet to come, has an air of
trifling which I would not willingly have among you; and which, I
believe, you will not willingly impute to me, when I have told you,
that since my promise, two of our partners4 are dead, and that I was
1 A translation of Apollonius Rhodius now intended by Mr. Warton.
— Warton.
2 Kettel-Hall is an ancient tenement built about the year 1615, by Dr.
Ralph Kettel, President of Trinity College, for the accommodation of
commoners of that society. It adjoins the college ; and was a few years
ago converted into a private house.—Malone.
3 At Ellsfield, three miles from Oxford.— Warton.
4 Booksellers concerned in his Dictionary.— Warton. Mr. Paul Knap-
ton died on the 12th, and Mr. Thomas Longman on the 18th June, 1755.
—Croker.
236
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
solicited to suspend my excursion till we could recover from our
confusion.
" I have not laid aside my purpose ; for every day makes me more
impatient of staying from you. But death, you know, hears not sup¬
plications, nor pays any regard to the convenience of mortals. I hope
now to see you next week; but next week is but another name for
to-morrow, which has been noted for promising and deceiving. I am,
&c., " Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
" [London,] Aug. 7. 1755.
" Dear Sir,
" I told you that among the manuscripts are some things of
Sir Thomas More. I beg you to pass an hour in looking on them,
and procure a transcript of the ten or twenty first lines of each, to be
compared with what I have; that I may know whether they are yet
published. The manuscripts are these :
" Catalogue of Bodl. MS. p. 122. f. 3. Sir Thomas More.
" 1. Fall of angels. 2. Creation and fall of mankind. 3. Deter¬
mination of the Trinity for the rescue of mankind. 4. Five lectures
of our Saviour's passion. 5. Of the institution of the sacrament,
three lectures. 6. How to receive the blessed body of our Lord
sacramentally. 7. Neomenia, the new moon. 8. De tristitia, tcedio,
pavore, et oratione Christi ante captionem ejus.
"Catalogue, p. 154. Life of Sir Thomas More. Qu. Whether
Roper's? P. 363. De resignations Magni Sigilli in manus Regis per
D. Thomarn Morum. Pag. 364. Mori Defensio Morice,.
" If you procure the young gentleman in the library to write out
what you think fit to be written, I will send to Mr. Prince the book¬
seller to pay him what you shall think proper. Be pleased to make
my compliments to Mr. Wise, and all my friends. I am, Sir, your
affectionate, &c., "Sam. Johnson."
The Dictionary, with a Grammar and History of the English
Language, being now at length published, in two volumes folio,1
1 It came out on the 15th April, 1755, price ioj. bound. Several
editions of the complete and also of the abridged Dictionary appeared in
Johnson's lifetime ; the last which rgceivec^his corrections was the fourth,
in two folios, 1773. A copy of the *i*cs£ edition, which had belonged to
Home Tooke, with many observations in his handwriting, was sold some
years ago by auction in London, and was bought by Lord Overstone, in
whose library it is now.—Editor.
ALT. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
237
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 imagination deceived him,
when he supposed that by constant application he might have
performed the task in three years. Let the Preface be atten¬
tively 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 what is in everybody's hands, and I
believe there are few prose compositions in the English lan¬
guage that are read with more delight, or are more impressed
upon the memory, than that preliminary discourse. One of
its excellencies has always struck me with peculiar admira¬
tion ; 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 example of what has been often said, and I
believe with justice, 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 lan¬
guage.
The extensive reading which was absolutely necessary for
the accumulation of authorities, and which alone may account
for Johnson's retentive mind being enriched with a very large
and various store of knowledge and imagery, must have occu¬
pied several years. The Preface furnishes an eminent instance
of a double talent, of which Johnson was fully conscious. Sir
Joshua Reynolds heard him say, " There are two things which
I am confident I can do very well: one is an introduction to
any literary work, stating what it is to contain, and how it
should be executed in the most perfect manner; the other is a
conclusion, showing from various causes why the execution
238 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1755.
has not been equal to what the author promised to himself and
to the public."
How should puny scribblers be abashed and disappointed,
when they find him displaying a perfect theory of lexi¬
cographical excellence, yet at the same time candidly and
modestly allowing that he "had not satisfied his own expecta¬
tions." Here was a fair occasion for the exercise of Johnson's
modesty, when he was called upon to compare his own arduous
performance, not with those of other individuals, (in which
case his inflexible regard to truth would have been violated
had he affected diffidence,) but with speculative perfection; as
he, who can outstrip all his competitors in the race, may yet
be sensible of his deficiency when he runs against time. Well
might he say, that " the English Dictionary was written with
little assistance of the learned ; " for he told me, that the only
aid which he received was a paper containing twenty etymo¬
logies, sent to him by a person then unknown, who he was
afterwards informed was Dr. Pearce, Bishop of Rochester. The
etymologies, though they exhibit learning and judgment, are
not, I think, entitled to the first praise amongst the various
parts of this immense work. The definitions have always ap¬
peared to me such astonishing proofs of acuteness of intellect
and precision of language, as indicate a genius of the highest
rank. This it is which marks the superior excellence of John¬
son's Dictionary over others equally or even more voluminous,
and must have made it a work of much greater mental labour
than mere Lexicons, or Word-Books, as the Dutch call them.
They, who will make the experiment of trying how they can
define a few words of whatever nature, will soon be satisfied of
the unquestionable justice of this observation, which I can
assure my readers is founded upon much study, and upon
communication with more minds than my own.
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 that there might be many such
iET. 46.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
239
in so immense a work; nor was he at all disconcerted when
an instance was pointed out to him.1 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 defini¬
tion of Network2 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 explain, 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 easy words are
changed into harder, as, burial, into sepulture or interment; dry, into
desiccative; 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,3 and a few more, cannot be fully de¬
fended, and must be placed to the account of capricious and
humorous indulgence. Talking to me upon this subject when
1 He owns in his Preface the deficiency of the technical part of his
work : and he said, he should be much obliged to me for definitions of
musical terms for his next edition, which he did not live to superintend.—
Burney.
2 Anything reticulated or decussated, at equal distances, with interstices
between the intersections.—Editor.
3 "Tory \a cant term, derived, I suppose, from an Irish word, signifying
a savage. One who adheres to the ancient constitution of the state and the
apostolic hierarchy of the church of England: opposed to a Whig].
" Whig \the name of a faction].
" Pension [an allowance made to any one without an equivalent. In
England it is generally understood to mean pay given to a state hireling
for treason to his country].
" Pensioner [a slave of state hired by a stipend to obey his master].
240
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
we were at Ashbourne in 1777, he mentioned a still stronger
instance of the predominance of his private feelings in the
composition of this work, than any now to be found in it.
" Oats [a grain which in England is generally given to horses, but in
Scotland supports the people\.—Croker.
He thus defines Excise : " A hateful tax levied upon commodities, and
adjudged not by the common judges of property, but wretches hired by
those to whom excise is paid." The Commissioners of Excise, being
offended by this severe reflection, consulted Mr. Murray, then Attorney-
General, to know whether redress could be legally obtained. I wished to
have procured for my readers a copy of the opinion which he gave, and
which may now be justly considered as history: but the mysterious secrecy
of office, it seems, would not permit it. I am, however, informed, by very
good authority, that its import was, that the passage might be considered
as actionable; but that it would be more prudent in the board not to pro¬
secute. Johnson never made the smallest alteration in this passage. We
find he still retained his early prejudice against excise ; for in the Idler,
No. 65, there is the following very extraordinary paragraph: "The
authenticity of Clarendon's History, though printed with the sanction of
one of the first universities of the world, had not an unexpected manu¬
script been happily discovered, would, with the help of factious credulity,
have been brought into question, by the two lowest of all human beings,
a scribbler for a party, and a commissioner of excise." The persons
to whom he alludes were Mr. John Oldmixon, and George Ducket,
Esq.
I am more fortunate than Mr. Boswell, in being able (through the
favour of Sir F. Doyle, deputy-chairman of the Excise Board) to pre¬
sent the reader with the case submitted to Lord Mansfield, and his
opinion.
" Case for the opinion of Mr. Attorney-General.
"Mr. Samuel Johnson has lately published a Dictionary of the English
Language, in which are the following words :—
" ' Excise, n. s. A hateful tax levied upon commodities, and adjudged
not by the common judges of property, but by wretches hired by those to
whom excise is paid.'
" The author's definition being observed by the Commissioners of Ex¬
cise, they desire the favour of your opinion. 1 Qu. Whether it will not
be considered as a libel\ and if so, whether it is not proper to proceed
against the author, printers, and publishers thereof or any and which
of them, by information, or how otherwise ?'
" I am of opinion that it is a libel. But under all the circumstances,
I should think it better to give him an opportunity of altering his de¬
finition; and, in case he do not, to threaten him with an information.
" 29th Nov. 1755. "IV. Murray."
JET. 46.
boswell's life of johnson.
241
" 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 some¬
times in playful allusion to the notions commonly entertained
of his own laborious task. Thus : " Grub Street, the name of
a street in London, much inhabited by writers of small his¬
tories, dictionaries, and temporary poems ; whence any mean
production is called Grub Street."—" Lexicographer, a writer of
dictionaries, a harmless drudge."
At the time when he was concluding his very eloquent Pre¬
face, Johnson's mind appears to have been in such a state of
depression, that we cannot contemplate without wonder the
vigorous and splendid thoughts which so highly distinguish
that performance.
" I (says he) may surely be contented without the praise of perfec¬
tion, which if I could obtain in this gloom of solitude, what would
it avail me ? I have protracted my work till most of those whom
I wished to please have sunk into the grave; and success and
miscarriage are empty sounds. I therefore dismiss it with frigid
tranquillity, having little to fear or hope from censure or from
praise."
Whether any such step was taken, Sir Francis Doyle was not able to
discover : probably not; but Johnson, in his own octavo abridgment of
the Dictionary, had the good sense to omit the more offensive parts of the
definitions of both Excise and Pension. We have already seen the
probable motive of the attack on the Excise.—Croker.
Johnson did not so much withdraw the definitions in question in the
edition, 2 vols. 8vo, 1756, as abridge them in accordance with the nature
of his work. In the second unabridged edition in two folios, published in
the same year with the abridgment, the obnoxious definitions appear
exactly as in the first edition ; and also in the fourth (1773), the last
which received his corrections. So that Johnson was in no wise intimi¬
dated by the opinion of the Attorney-General; and never cancelled any
part of these definitions.—Editor.
r
242 boswell's life of johnson. 1755.
That this indifference was rather a temporary than an habi¬
tual feeling, appears, I think, from his letters to Mr. Warton ;
and however he may have been affected for the moment, cer¬
tain it is that the honours which his great work procured him,
both at home and abroad, were very grateful to him. His
friend the Earl of Cork and Orrery, being at Florence, pre¬
sented it to the Academia delict Crusca. That Academy sent
Johnson their Vocabulario, and the French Academy sent him
their Dictionnaire, which Mr. Langton had the pleasure to
convey to him.
It must undoubtedly seem strange, that the conclusion of
his Preface should be expressed in terms so desponding, when
it is considered that the author was then only in his forty-
sixth year." But we must ascribe its gloom to that miserable
dejection of spirits to which he was constitutionally subject,
and which was aggravated by the death of his wife two years
before. I have heard it ingeniously observed by a lady of rank
and elegance, that " his melancholy was then at its meridian."
It pleased God to grant him almost thirty years of life after
this time ; and once, when he was in a placid frame of mind,
he was obliged to own to me that he had enjoyed happier
days, and had many more friends, since that gloomy hour,
than before.
It is a sad saying, that " most of those whom he wished to
please had sunk into the grave ;" and his case at forty-five was
singularly unhappy, unless the circle of his friends was very
narrow. I have often thought, that as longevity is generally
desired, and I believe, generally expected, it would be wise to
be continually adding to the number of our friends, that the
loss of some may be supplied by others. Friendship, "the
wine of life," should, like a well-stocked cellar, be thus con¬
tinually renewed ; and it is consolatory to think, that although
we can seldom add what will equal the generous first-growths
of our youth, yet friendship becomes insensibly old in much
less time than is commonly imagined, and not many years are
required to make it very mellow and pleasant. Warmth will,
no doubt, make a considerable difference. Men of affectionate
^£T. 46. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
243
temper and bright fancy will coalesce a great deal sooner than
those who are cold and dull.
The proposition which I have now endeavoured to illustrate
was, at a subsequent period of his life, the opinion of Johnson
himself. He said to Sir Joshua Reynolds, " If a man does not
make new acquaintance as he advances through life, he will
soon find himself left alone. A man, Sir, should keep his
friendship in constant repair."
The celebrated Mr. Wilkes, whose notions and habits of life
were very opposite to his, but who was ever eminent for litera¬
ture and vivacity, sallied forth with a little Jeu d'Esprit upon
the following passage in his Grammar of the English Tongue,
prefixed to the Dictionary : " H seldom, perhaps never, begins
any but the first syllable." In an essay printed in "The
Public Advertiser," this lively writer enumerated many in¬
stances in opposition to this remark : for example, " The author
of this observation must be a man of a quick appre-hension, and
of a most compre-hensive genius." The position is undoubtedly
expressed with too much latitude.
This light sally, we may suppose, made no great impression
on our Lexicographer; for we find that he did not alter the
passage till many years afterwards.1
He had the pleasure of being treated in a very different man¬
ner by his old pupil Mr. Garrick, in the following complimen¬
tary Epigram :
" On Johnson's Dictionary.
" Talk of war with a Briton, he'll boldly advance,
That one English soldier will beat ten of France;
Would we alter the boast from the sword to the pen,
Our odds are still greater, still greater our men :
In the deep mines of science though Frenchmen may toil,
Can their strength be compar'd to Locke, Newton, and Boyle ?
1 In the third edition, published in 1773, he left out the words perhaps
never, and added the following paragraph:—" It sometimes begins middle
or final syllables in words compounded, as block-head, or derived from the
Latin, as cotnpre-hended"
244
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1755-
Let them rally their heroes, send forth all their powers,
Their verse-men and prose-men, then match them with ours!
First Shakespeare and Milton, like Gods in the fight,
Have put their whole drama and epic to flight;
In satires, epistles, and odes would they cope,
Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope;
And Johnson, well arm'd like a hero of yore,
Has beat forty French,1 and will beat forty more ! "
Johnson this year gave at once a proof of his benevolence,
quickness of apprehension, and admirable art of composition,
in the assistance which he gave to Mr. Zachariah Williams,
father of the blind lady whom he had humanely received under
his roof. Mr. Williams had followed the profession of physic
in Wales ; but, having a very strong propensity to the study
of natural philosophy, had made many ingenious advances
towards a discovery of the longitude, and repaired to London
in hopes of obtaining the great parliamentary reward. He failed
of success: but Johnson having made himself master of his
principles and experiments, wrote for him a pamphlet,2 pub¬
lished in quarto, with the following title: " An Account of an
Attempt to ascertain the Longitude at Sea, by an exact Theory
of the Variation of the Magnetical Needle; with a Table of
1 The number of the French Academy employed in settling their lan¬
guage, and editing the celebrated dictionary.
2 When Johnson was with me at Oxford, in 1755, he gave to the Bod¬
leian Library a thin quarto of twenty-one pages, a work in Italian, with an
English translation on the opposite page. The English title-page is this :
"An Account of an Attempt to ascertain the Longitude at Sea, by an
exact Variation of the Magnetical Needle, &c. By Zachariah Williams.
London, printed for Dodsley, 1755." The English translation, from the
strongest internal marks, is unquestionably the work of Johnson. In a
blank leaf J ohnson has written the age and time of death of the author,
Z. Williams, as I have said above. On another blank leaf is pasted a
paragraph from a newspaper of the death and character of Williams,
which is plainly written by Johnson. He was very anxious about placing
this book in the Bodleian ; and, for fear of any omission or mistake,
he entered, in the great catalogue, the title-page with his own hand.—
Thomas Warton.
Warton was mistaken in speaking of the English translation ; whereas
the English was the original, and the Italian the translation.—Editor.
JET. 46. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 245
the Variations at the most remarkable Cities in Europe, from
the year 1660 to 1680." f To diffuse it more extensively, it
was accompanied with an Italian translation on the opposite
page, which it is supposed was the work of Signor Baretti,1 an
Italian of considerable literature, who having come to England
a few years before, had been employed in the capacity both of
a language master and an author, and formed an intimacy with
Dr. Johnson. This pamphlet Johnson presented to the
Bodleian Library. On a blank leaf of it is pasted a paragraph
cut out of a newspaper, containing an account of the death
and character of Williams, plainly written by Johnson.2
In July this year he had formed some scheme of mental im¬
provement, the particular purpose of which does not appear.
But we find in his Prayers and Meditations, p. 25, a prayer
entitled, " On the Study of Philosophy, as an instrument of
living ;" and after it follows a note, " This study was not pur¬
sued."
On the 13th of the same month he wrote in his journal the
following scheme of life, for Sunday : " Having lived " (as he
with tenderness of conscience expresses himself) "not without
an habitual reverence for the Sabbath, yet without that atten¬
tion to its religious duties which Christianity requires;"
" 1. To rise early, and in order to it, to go to sleep early on Satur¬
day.
"2. To use some extraordinary devotion in the morning.
1 This ingenious foreigner, who was a native of Piedmont, came to Eng¬
land about the year 1753, and died in London, May 5, 1789. A very-
candid and judicious account of him and his works, written, it is believed,
by a distinguished dignitary in the church, [Dr. Vincent, Dean of West¬
minster,] may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine for that year.—
Malone.
2 " On Saturday the 12th, [July, 1755] about twelve at night, died Mr.
Zachariah Williams, in his eighty-third year, after an illness of eight
months, in full possession of his mental faculties. He has been long
known to philosophers and seamen for his skill in magnetism, and his pro¬
posal to ascertain the longitude by a peculiar system of the variation of
the compass. He was a man of industry indefatigable, of conversation
inoffensive, patient of adversity and disease, eminently sober, temperate,
and pious; and worthy to have ended life with better fortune."
246
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
"3. To examine the tenor of my life, and particularly the last week;
and to mark my advances in religion, or recession from it.
"4. To read the Scripture methodically with such helps as are at
hand.
"5. To go to church twice.
"6. To read books of divinity, either speculative or practical.
" 7. To instruct my family.
"8. To wear off by meditation any worldly soil contracted in the
week."
In 1756 Johnson found that the great fame of his Dictionary-
had not set him above the necessity of " making provision for
the day that was passing over him."1 No royal or noble
patron extended a munificent hand to give independence to
the man who had conferred stability on the language of his
country. We may feel indignant that there should have been
such unworthy neglect; but we must, at the same time, con¬
gratulate ourselves, when we consider, that to this very neglect,
operating to rouse the natural indolence of his constitution,
we owe many valuable productions, which otherwise, perhaps,
might never have appeared.
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 labour was only fifteen hundred
and seventy-five pounds : and when the expense of amanu¬
enses, and paper and other articles, are deducted, his clear profit
was very inconsiderable. I once said to him, " I arn 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 literature: and, indeed, although they
have eventually been considerable gainers by his Dictionary,
it is to them that we owe its having been undertaken and car-
1 He was so far from being " set above the necessity of making provi¬
sion for the day that was passing over him," that he appears to have been
in this year in great pecuniary distress, having been arrested for debt; on
which occasion his friend Samuel Richardson became his surety. See
Richardson's Correspondence, vol. v., p. 283.—Malone.
-ffiT. 47-
boswell's life of johnson.
247
ried through at the risk of great expense, for they were not ab¬
solutely sure of being indemnified.
On the first day of this year we find, from his private devo¬
tions, that he had then recovered from sickness, and in Fe¬
bruary that his eye was restored to its use.1 The pious gratitude
with which he acknowledges mercies upon every occasion is
very edifying ; as is the humble submission which he breathes,,
when it is the will of his heavenly Father to try him with
afflictions. As such dispositions become the state of man
here, and are the true effects of religious discipline, we cannot
but venerate in Johnson one of the most exercised minds that
our holy religion hath ever formed. If there be any thought¬
less enough to suppose such exercise the weakness of a great
understanding, let them look up to Johnson, and be convinced
that what he so earnestly practised must have a rational foun¬
dation.
His works this year were, an abstract or epitome, in octavo,
of his folio " Dictionary," and a few essays in a monthly publica¬
tion, entitled "The Universal Visiter." Christopher Smart,
with whose unhappy vacillation of mind he sincerely sy mpathised,
was one of the stated undertakers of this miscellany; and it
was to assist him that Johnson sometimes employed his pen.
All the essays marked with two asterisks have been ascribed
to him; but I am confident, from internal evidence, that of
these neither " The Life of Chaucer," " Reflections on the State
of Portugal," nor " An Essay on Architecture," were written
by him. I am equally confident, upon the same evidence, that
he wrote "Further Thoughts on Agriculture -f* being the
sequel of a very inferior essay on the same subject, and which,
though carried on as if by the same hand, is both in thinking
and expression so far above it, and so strikingly peculiar, as to
leave no doubt of its true parent; and that he also wrote " A
Dissertation on the State of Literature and Authors," *j* and
"A Dissertation on the Epitaphs written by Pope."* The
last of these, indeed, he afterwards added to his " Idler." Why
1 Prayers and Meditations, pp. 19, 21.
24B boswell's life of johnson. 1756.
the essays truly written by him are marked in the same manner
with some which he did not write, I cannot explain ; but, with
deference to those who have ascribed to him the three essays
which I have rejected, they want all the characteristical marks
of Johnsonian composition.
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 inter¬
missions, till the fifteenth number ; and I think that he never
gave better proofs of the force, acuteness, and vivacity of his
mind, than in this miscellany, whether we consider his original
essays, or his reviews of the works of others. The " Prelimi¬
nary Address " -J- 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 ; " f " Remarks on the Militia Bill; " -f*
" Observations on his Britannic Majesty's Treaties with the
Empress of Russia and the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel ;" *f*
" Observations on the Present State of Affairs ;" -f- and, " Me¬
moirs of Frederick II. King of Prussia." -f- 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. In
one instance only in these essays has he indulged his Brownism.
Dr. Robertson, the historian, mentioned it to me, as having at
once convinced him that Johnson was the author of the " Me¬
moirs of the King of Prussia." Speaking of the pride which
the old King, the father of his hero, took in being master of
the tallest regiment in Europe, he says, "To review this tower¬
ing regiment was his daily pleasure ; and to perpetuate it was
JET. 47.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
249
so much his care, that when he met a tall woman, he imme¬
diately commanded one of his Titanian retinue to marry her,
that they might propagate procerityFor this Anglo-Latin
word procerity, Johnson had, however, the authority of Addi¬
son.
His reviews are of the following books :—" Birch's History
of the Royal Society ;" f " Murphy's Gray's-Inn Journal;" f
"Warton's Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope, vol.
i.; " -J- " Hampton's Translation of Polybius ;" *f* " Blackwell's
Memoirs of the Court of Augustus-f* "Russell's Natural
History of Aleppo ;"-f* "Sir Isaac Newton's Arguments in
Proof of a Deity ;"-f- " Borlase's History of the Isles of
Scilly ; "*f* " Holme's Experiments on Bleaching ; "*f- " Brown's
Christian Morals ; " -f* " Hales on distilling Sea-Water, Venti¬
lators in Ships, and curing an ill Taste in Milk ;"*j* "Lucas's
Essay on Waters f " Keith's Catalogue of the Scottish
Bishops ;"-f- "Browne's History of Jamaica ;"*J* "Philoso¬
phical Transactions, vol. xlix. ; " *f* " Mrs. Lenox's Translation
of Sully's Memoirs;"* "Miscellanies, by Elizabeth Harri¬
son ; " f " Evans's Map and Account of the Middle Colonies in
America ; " *f* " Letter on the Case of Admiral Byng ; " * "Ap¬
peal to the People concerning Admiral Byng ; " * " Hanway's
Eight Days' Journey, and Essay on Tea;"* "The Cadet, a
Military Treatise ;"-f- "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;" -f- "A Free Inquiry into the Nature
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. Mr. Thomas
Davies, indeed, ascribed to him the Review of Mr. Burke's
" Inquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and
Beautiful;" and Sir John Hawkins, with equal discernment,
has inserted it in his collection of Johnson's works : whereas it
has no resemblance to Johnson's composition, and is well known
to have been written by Mr. Murphy, who has acknowledged
it to me and many others.
250
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
It is worthy of remark, in justice to Johnson's political
character, which has been misrepresented as abjectly submis¬
sive to power,1 that his " Observations on the present State of
Affairs," glow with as animated a spirit of constitutional
liberty as can be found anywhere. Thus he begins:
" The time is now come, in which every Englishman expects to be
informed of the national affairs; and in which he has a right to have
that expectation gratified. For, whatever may be urged by ministers,
or those whom vanity or interest make the followers of ministers,
concerning the necessity of confidence in our governors, and the pre¬
sumption of prying with profane eyes into the recesses of policy, it is
evident that this reverence can be claimed only by counsels yet un¬
executed, and projects suspended in deliberation. But when a design
has ended in miscarriage or success, when every eye and every ear is
witness to general discontent, or general satisfaction, it is then a
proper time to disentangle confusion and illustrate obscurity; to shew
by what causes every event was produced, and in what effects it is
likely to terminate; to lay down with distinct particularity what
rumour always huddles in general exclamation, or perplexes by
indigested narratives; to shew whence happiness or calamity is de¬
rived, and whence it maybe expected; and honestly to lay before the
people what inquiry can gather of the past, and conjecture can esti¬
mate of the future."
Here we have it assumed as an incontrovertible principle,
that in this country the people are the superintendents of the
conduct and measures of those by whom government is ad¬
ministered ; of the beneficial effect of which the present reign
afforded an illustrious example, when addresses from all parts
1 Dr. Johnson's political bias is nowhere, that I know, represented as
having been, at this date, " abjectly submissive to power." On the con¬
trary, he was supposed, and with some justice, to be adverse to the reigning
house and its successive ministers. The charge (which Mr. Boswell thus
ingeniously evades) was, that after the grant of his pension he became too
" submissive to power;" but the truth is, that in spite of his party bias,
Johnson was always a friend to discipline in the political, as in the social
world; and although he joined in the clamour against Walpole, and hated
George the Second, his general disposition was always to support the
monarchical part of the constitution.—Croker.
jET. 47.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
251
of the kingdom controlled an audacious attempt to introduce
a new power subversive of the crown.1
A still stronger proof of his patriotic spirit appears in his
review of an " Essay on Waters, by Dr. Lucas,"2 of whom, after
describing him as a man well known to the world for his daring
defiance of power, when he thought it exerted on the side of
wrong, he thus speaks :
" The Irish ministers drove him from his native country by a pro¬
clamation, in which they charge him with crimes of which they never
intended to be called to the proof, and oppressed him by methods
equally irresistible by guilt and innocence. Let the man thus driven
into exile, for having been the friend of his country, be received in
every other place as a confessor of liberty; and let the tools of power
be taught in time, that they may rob, but cannot impoverish."
Some of his reviews in this Magazine are very short accounts
of the pieces noticed, and I mention them only that Dr. John¬
son's opinion of the works may be known ; but many of them
are examples of elaborate criticism, in the most masterly style.
In his review of the " Memoirs of the Court of Augustus," he
has the resolution to think and speak from his own mind,
regardless of the cant transmitted from age to age, in praise of
the ancient Romans. Thus : " I know not why any one but a
schoolboy in his declamation should whine over the Common¬
wealth of Rome, which grew great only by the misery of the
rest of mankind. The Romans, like others, as soon as they
grew rich, grew corrupt ; and in their corruption sold the lives
and freedoms of themselves, and of one another." Again:
" A people, who while they were poor robbed mankind ; and
as soon as they became rich robbed one another."—In his
1 Mr. Boswell means Mr. Fox's celebrated India Bill, as an adversary
of which he distinguished himself as much as a man in a private station
could do.—Croker.
2 Dr. Lucas was an apothecary in Dublin (afterwards M.D.), who brought
himself into public notice and a high degree of popularity by his writings
and speeches against the government. He was elected representative of
Dublin in 1761 ; and a marble statue to his honour is erected in the Royal
Exchange of that city. He died in Nov. 1771.—Croker.
252 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1756.
review of the "Miscellanies" in prose and verse, published by-
Elizabeth Harrison, but written by many hands, he gives an
eminent proof at once of his orthodoxy and candour.
" The authors of the essays in prose seem generally to have
imitated, or tried to imitate, the copiousness and luxuriance of Mrs.
Rowe. This, however, is not all their praise; they have laboured to
add to her brightness of imagery, her purity of sentiment. The poets
have had Dr. Watts before their eyes; a writer, who, if he stood not
in the first class of genius, compensated that defect by a ready appli¬
cation of his powers to the promotion of piety. The attempt to
employ the ornaments of romance in the decoration of religion, was,
I think, first made by Mr. Boyle's ' Martyrdom of Theodora;' but
Boyle's philosophical studies did not allow him time for the cultiva¬
tion of style: and the completion of the great design was reserved for
Mrs. Rowe. Dr. Watts was one of the first who taught the Dissenters
to write and speak like other men, by shewing them that elegance
might consist with piety. They would have both done honour to a
better society, for they had that charity which might well make their
failings be forgotten, and with which the whole Christian world wish
for communion. They were pure from all the heresies of an age, to
which every opinion is become a favourite that the universal church
has hitherto detested ! This praise the general interest of mankind
requires to be given to writers who please and do not corrupt, who
instruct and do not weary. But to them all human eulogies are
vain, whom I believe applauded by angels, and numbered with the
just."
His defence of Tea against Mr. Jonas Hanway's violent
attack upon that elegant and popular beverage, shows how
very well a man of genius can write upon the slightest subject,
when he writes, as the Italians say, con amove: I suppose no
person ever enjoyed with more relish the infusion of that fra¬
grant leaf than Johnson. The quantities which he drank of it
at all hours were so great, that his nerves must have been un¬
commonly strong, not to have been extremely relaxed by such
an intemperate use of it.1 He assured me, that he never felt
1 In this review, Johnson candidly describes himself as " a hardened and
shameless tea-drinker, who has for many years diluted his meals with only
the infusion of this fascinating plant; whose kettle has scarcely time to
jet. 47.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
253
the least inconvenience from it; which is a proof that the fault
of his constitution was rather a too great tension of fibres, than
the contrary. Mr. Hanway wrote an angry answer to John¬
son's review of his " Essay on Tea," and Johnson, after a full
and deliberate pause, made a reply to it; the only instance, I
believe, in the whole course of his life, when he condescended
to oppose anything that was written against him. I suppose,
when he thought of any of his little antagonists, he was ever
justly aware of the high sentiment of Ajax in Ovid :
" Iste tulit pretium jam nunc certaminis hujus,
Qui,, cum victus erit, mecum certasse feretur"
But, indeed, the good Mr. Hanway laid himself so open to
ridicule, that Johnson's animadversions upon his attack were
chiefly to make sport.
The generosity with which he pleads the cause of Admiral
Byng is highly to the honour of his heart and spirit. Though
Voltaire affects to be witty upon the fate of that unfortunate
officer, observing that he was shot "pour enconrager les atltres" 1
cool; who with tea amuses the evening, with tea solaces the midnights,
and with tea welcomes the morning." This last phrase his friend, Tom
Tyers, happily parodied, " te veniente die—te decedente." The Rev. Mr.
Parker, of Henley, is in possession of a tea-pot which belonged to Dr.
Johnson, and which contains above two quarts.—Croker.
1 See Candide, chap, xxiii. Voltaire's (Euvres, torn. 44, p. 311: ". . . mais
dans ce pays-ci (l'Angleterre) il est bon de tuer de temps en temps un
amiral pour encourager les autres."
But Voltaire did more than indulge in mere witticisms. He acted with
a generosity which he often displayed. In a letter to the Due de Riche¬
lieu, under the date Dec. 20, 1756, Voltaire tells him that an Englishman
had recently called to lament the fate of Byng; that he had communi¬
cated to this English friend of the Admiral the opinion, which the Duke
had expressed to himself, that Byng was not in fault but had done all
he could; that the Englishman at once remarked that, if De Richelieu's
favourable opinion of the conduct of General Blakeney had made that
General a peer, the Marshal's declaration concerning Byng might save
his reputation and life. Voltaire asked and obtained permission to make
it known. Correspond. G^nerale, Lettre 214, (Euv. torn. 55, p. 385. This
letter was sent to the Secretary of State, to be used for Byng's justifica¬
tion. But all was in vain; though Voltaire failed not to tell the Duke
254
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
the nation has long been satisfied that his life was sacrificed to
the political fervour of the times. In the vault belonging to
the Torrington family, in the church of Southill, in Bedford¬
shire, there is the following epitaph upon his monument, which
I have transcribed :
" TO THE PERPETUAL DISGRACE
OF PUBLIC JUSTICE,
THE HONOURABLE JOHN BYNG, ESQ.
ADMIRAL OF THE BLUE,
FELL A MARTYR TO POLITICAL
PERSECUTION,1
MARCH 14. IN THE YEAR 1757 ;
WHEN BRAVERY AND LOYALTY
WERE INSUFFICIENT SECURITIES
FOR THE LIFE AND HONOUR OF
A NAVAL OFFICER."
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
that his testimony was cited as the best proof of the Admiral's inno¬
cence {Ibid., p. 431). Byng was shot on board the St. George, March 14,
1757. In a letter to Thiriot {Ibid., p. 440), Voltaire mentions: "que
j'avais connu ce pauvre Amiral Byng k Londres dans sa jeunesse and
that Byng had charged his executor to forward to Voltaire "un mdmoire
j'ustificatif qu'il a donnd ordre en mourant de me faire parvenir."—
Editor.
1 Nothing can be more unfounded than the assertion that Byng fell a
martyr to " political persecution? It is impossible to read the trial with¬
out being convinced that he had misconducted himself; and the extraor¬
dinary proceedings in both Houses of Parliament subsequent to his trial,
prove, at once, the zeal of his friends to invalidate the finding of the court-
martial, and the absence of any reason for doing so. By a strange coinci¬
dence of circumstances, it happened that there was a total change of
ministry between the accusation and the sentence, so that one party pre¬
pared the trial and the other directed the execution: there can be no
stronger proof that he was not a political martyr. See this subject treated
at large in the Quarterly Review for April, 1822.—Croker.
JET. 47.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
255
or verse: but when he speculated on that most difficult and
excruciating question, the Origin of Evil, he "ventured far
beyond his depth," and, accordingly, was exposed by Johnson,
both with acute argument and brilliant wit. I remember when
the late Mr. Bicknell's humorous performance, 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."
His triumph over Jenyns is thus described by my friend Mr.
Courtenay, in his " Poetical Review of the literary and moral
character of Dr. Johnson ; " a performance of such merit, that
had I not been honoured with a very kind and partial notice
in it, I should echo the sentiments of men of the first taste
loudly in its praise :
" When specious sophists with presumption scan
The source of evil, hidden still from man;
Revive Arabian tales, and vainly hope
To rival St. John and his scholar Pope :
Though metaphysics spread the gloom of night,
By reason's star he guides our aching sight;
The bounds of knowledge marks, and points the way
To pathless wastes where wilder'd sages stray;
Where, like a farthing link-boy, Jenyns stands,
And the dim torch drops from his feeble hands."1
1 Some time after Dr. Johnson's death, there appeared in the newspapers
and magazines an illiberal and petulant attack upon him, in the form of an
Epitaph, under the name of Mr. Soame J enyns, very unworthy of that gentle¬
man, who had quietly submitted to the critical lash while Johnson lived.
It assumed, as characteristics of him, all the vulgar circumstances of abuse
which had circulated amongst the ignorant. It was an unbecoming indul¬
gence of puny resentment, at a time when he himself was at a very
advanced age, and had a near prospect of descending to the grave. I was
truly sorry for it; for he was then become an avowed and (as my Lord
Bishop of London, who had a serious conversation with him on the sub¬
ject, assures me) a sincere Christian. He could not expect that Johnson's
numerous friends would patiently bear to have the memory of their master
stigmatized by no mean pen, but that, at least, one would be found to retort.
Accordingly, this unjust and sarcastic epitaph was met in the same public
256 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1756.
This year Mr. William Payne, brother of the respectable
bookseller of that name, published " An Introduction to the
Game of Draughts," to which Johnson contributed a Dedica¬
tion to the Earl of Rochford,* and a Preface,* both of which
are admirably adapted to the treatise to which they are pre¬
fixed. Johnson, I believe, did not play at draughts after
leaving College ; by which he suffered ; for it would have
afforded him an innocent soothing relief from the melancholy
which distressed him so often. I have heard him regret that
he had not learnt to play at £ards ; and the game of draughts
field by an answer, in terms by no means soft, and such as wanton provo¬
cation only could justify :—
" EPITAPH
" Prepared for a creature not quite dead yet.
" Here lies a little ugly nauseous elf,
Who, judging only from its wretched self,
Feebly attempted, petulant and vain,
The ' Origin of Evil' to explain.
A mighty Genius at this elf displeased,
With a strong critic grasp the urchin squeezed.
For thirty years its coward spleen it kept,
Till in the dust the mighty Genius slept;
Then stunk and fretted in expiring snuff,
And blinked at Johnson with its last poor puff."
The answer was no doubt by Mr. Boswell himself, and does more credit
to his zeal than his poetical talents. This Review was so successful that
Johnson republished it in a separate pamphlet. Jenyns was born in 1705,
and died in 1787. He was for near forty years in Parliament, and pub¬
lished some poetry; but his best known work is his Source of the Nile;
also, Evidences of the Christian Religion, published in 1774. Of this work,
the seriousness and sincerity was much questioned, which is the occasion
of Mr. Boswell's observation as to his being " a sincere Christian.'''—
Croker.
The Epitaph in question, on Johnson, conspicuous only for its insipid
coarseness, may be found by the curious reader in vol. i., p. 222, of the col¬
lected Works of Soame Jenyns, in 4 vols., 8vo, London, 1790; but the
curious reader will search in vain through these four volumes for what Mr.
Croker terms "his best known work, his Source of the Nile." Soame
Jenyns never wrote a line on the subject.—Editor.
JET. 47-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
257
we know is peculiarly calculated to fix the attention without
straining it. There is a composure and gravity in draughts
which insensibly tranquillises the mind ; and, accordingly, the
Dutch are fond of it, as they are of smoking, of the sedative
influence of which, though he himself never smoked, he had a
high opinion.1 Besides, there is in draughts some exercise of
the faculties ; and accordingly, Johnson, wishing to dignify the
subject in his Dedication with what is most estimable in it,
observes, "Triflers may find or make anything a trifle: but
since it is the great characteristic of a wise man to see events
in their causes, to obviate consequences, and ascertain contin¬
gencies, your lordship will think nothing a trifle by which the
mind is inured to caution, foresight, and circumspection."
As one of the little occasional advantages which he did not
disdain to take by his pen, as a man whose profession was
literature, he this year accepted of a guinea from Mr. Robert
Dodsley, for writing the Introduction to " The London Chro¬
nicle," an evening newspaper ; and even in so slight a per¬
formance exhibited peculiar talents. This "Chronicle" still
subsists,2 and from what I observed, when I was abroad, has
a more extensive circulation upon the continent than any of
the English newspapers. It was constantly read by Johnson
himself; and it is but just to observe, that it has all along
been distinguished for good sense, accuracy, moderation, and
delicacy.
Another instance of the same nature has been communi¬
cated to me by the Reverend Dr. Thomas Campbell,3 who
has done himself considerable credit by his own writings.
" Sitting with Dr. Johnson one morning alone, he asked me if
I had known Dr. Madden, who was author of the premium-
scheme 4 in Ireland. On my answering in the affirmative, and
1 Hawkins heard Johnson say, that insanity had grown more frequent
since smoking had gone out of fashion.—Croker.
2 The London Chronicle, or Universal Evening Post, was published
three times a week. The first number, containing Johnson's Introduction,
appeared Jan. i, 1757. Mr. Boswell often wrote in this journal.—Croker.
3 The Irish Dr. Campbell, of whom we shall hear more.—Editor.
4 In the College of Dublin, four quarterly examinations of the students
S
258
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
also that I had for some years lived in his neighbourhood, &c.,
he begged of me that when I returned to Ireland, I would en¬
deavour to procure for him a poem of Dr. Madden's called
' Boulter's Monument.'1 The reason (said he) why I wish for
it, is this: when Dr. Madden came to London, he submitted
that work to my castigation ; and I remember I blotted a
great many lines, and might have blotted many more without
making the poem worse. However, the Doctor was very
thankful, and very generous, for he gave me ten guineas, which
was to me at that time a great sum" 2
He this year resumed his scheme of giving an edition of
Shakspeare with notes. He issued Proposals of considerable
length,3 in which he shewed that he perfectly well knew what
are held in each year, in various prescribed branches of literature and
science; and premiums, consisting of books impressed with the College
Arms, are adjudged by examiners (composed generally of the Junior Fel¬
lows), to those who have most distinguished themselves in the several
classes, after a very rigid trial, which lasts two days. This regulation,
which has subsisted about seventy years, has been attended with the most
beneficial effects. Dr. Samuel Madden was the first proposer of those
premiums. They were instituted about the year 1734. He was also one
of the founders of the Dublin Society for the Encouragement of Arts and
Agriculture. In addition to the premiums which were and are still annu¬
ally given by that society for this purpose, Dr. Madden gave others from
his own fund. Hence he was usually called " Premium Madden."—
Malone.
1 Dr. Hugh Boulter, Archbishop of Armagh, and Primate of Ireland.
He died Sept. 27, 1742, at which time he was, for the thirteenth time, one
of the Lords Justices of that kingdom. Johnson speaks of him in high
terms of commendation, in his Life of Ambrose Philips.
2 Hawkins's Life, pp. 391-92. "About this time, as it is supposed, for
sundry beneficed clergymen that requested him, he composed pulpit dis¬
courses, and for these, he made no scruple of confessing, he was paid ; his
price, I am informed, was a moderate one—a guinea; and such was his
notion of justice, that having been paid, he considered them so absolutely
the property of the purchaser, as to renounce all claim to them. He
reckoned that he had written about forty sermons; but, except as to some,
knew not in what hands they were. " I have," said he, " been paid for
them, and have no right to inquire about them."—Croker.
3 They have been reprinted by Mr. Malone, in the Preface to his edition
of Shakspeare.—Note in third edition, vol. i. p. 281.
^T. 47.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
259
a 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, how¬
ever 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. His throes in bringing
it forth had been severe and remittent; and at last we may
almost conclude that the Caesarian operation was performed
by the knife of Churchill, whose upbraiding satire, I dare say,
made Johnson's friends urge him to dispatch.
" He for subscribers baits his hook,
And takes their cash; but where's the book ?
No matter where ; wise fear, we know,
Forbids the robbing of a foe ;
But what, to serve our private ends,
Forbids the cheating of our friends ? "
About this period he was offered a living of considerable
value in Lincolnshire,1 if he were inclined to enter into holy
orders. It was a rectory in the gift of Mr. Langton, the father
of his much valued friend. But he did not accept of it;
partly, I believe, from a conscientious motive, being persuaded
that his temper and habits rendered him unfit for that assidu¬
ous and familiar instruction of the vulgar and ignorant, which
he held to be an essential duty in a clergyman; and partly
because his love of a London life was so strong, that he would
have thought himself an exile in any other place, particularly
if residing in the country. Whoever would wish to see his
thoughts upon that subject displayed in their full force, may
peruse the Adventurer, Number 126.
In 1757 it does not appear that he published any thing,
except some of those articles in the Literary Magazine, which
have been mentioned. That magazine, after Johnson ceased
to write in it, gradually declined, though the popular epithet of
1 Langton, near Partney.—Crokcr.
26O
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1757*
Antigallican was added to it; and in July, 1758, it expired.
He probably prepared a part of his Shakspeare this year, and
he dictated a speech on the subject of an address to the
Throne, after the expedition to Rochfort, which was delivered
by one of his friends, I know not in what public meeting. It
is printed in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for October, 1785,
as his, and bears sufficient marks of authenticity.
By the favour of Mr. Joseph Cooper Walker,1 of the Treasury,
Dublin, I have obtained a copy of the following letter from
Johnson to the venerable author of "Dissertations on the His¬
tory of Ireland."
TO CHARLES O'CONNOR, ESQ.2
" London, April 9. 1757.
" Sir,
" I have lately, by the favour of Mr. Faulkner, seen your ac¬
count of Ireland, and cannot forbear to solicit a prosecution of your
design. Sir William Temple complains that Ireland is less known
than any other country, as to its ancient state. The natives have had
little leisure, and little encouragement for inquiry; and strangers, not
knowing the language, have had no ability.
" I have long wished that the Irish literature were cultivated.3
Ireland is known by tradition to have been once the seat of piety and
1 Mr, Walker was a member of the Royal Irish Academy, author of
the Historical Memoirs of the Irish Bards, an Historical Memoir on
Italian Tragedy, &c. He died in 1810.—Croker.
2 Of this gentleman, who died at his seat at Ballynegar, in the county
of Roscommon, July, 1791, in his eighty-second year, some account may
be found in the Gentleman's Magazine of that date. Of the Dissertations
on the History of Ireland a second and much-improved edition was pub¬
lished in 1796.—Malone.
3 The celebrated orator, Mr. Flood [who died December, 1791], has
shown himself to be of Dr. Johnson's opinion; having by his will bequeathed
his estate, after the death of his wife, Lady Frances, to the University of
Dublin ; " desiring that immediately after the said estate shall come into
their possession, they shall appoint two professors, one for the study of
the native Erse or Irish Language, and the other for the study of Irish
antiquities and Irish history, and for the study of any other European lan¬
guage illustrative of, or auxiliary to, the study of Irish antiquities or Irish
history ; and that they shall give yearly two liberal premiums for two com-
JET. 48.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
261
learning; and surely it would be very acceptable to all those who are
curious either in the original of nations, or the affinities of languages,
to be further informed of the revolution of a people so ancient, and
once so illustrious.
" What relation there is between the Welsh and Irish language, or
between the language of Ireland and that of Biscay, deserves inquiry.
Of these provincial and unextended tongues, it seldom happens that
more than one are understood by any one man; and, therefore, it
seldom happens that a fair comparison can be made. I hope you
will continue to cultivate this kind of learning, which has too long
lain neglected, and which, if it be suffered to remain in oblivion for
another century, may, perhaps, never be retrieved. As I wish well to
all useful undertakings, I would not forbear to let you know how
much you deserve, in my opinion, from all lovers of study, and how
much pleasure your work has given to, Sir, your most obliged and
most humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
TO THE REV. MR. THOMAS WARTON.
"[London,] June 21. 1757.
" Dear Sir,
" Dr. Marsili, of Padua, a learned gentleman, and good Latin
poet, has a mind to see Oxford. I have given him a letter to Dr.
Huddesford,1 and shall be glad if you will introduce him, and show
him any thing in Oxford.
" I am printing my new edition of Shakspeare.
"I long to see you all, but cannot conveniently come yet. You
might write to me now and then, if you were good for anything. But2
honores mutant mores. Professors forget their friends. I shall certainly
complain to Miss Jones.3 I am, your, &c. " Sam Johnson."
" Please to make my compliments to Mr. Wise."
positions, one in verse, and the other in prose, in the Irish language."
Note in the second edition, vol. i. p. 293.
Since the above was written, Mr. Flood's will has been set aside, after
a trial at bar, in the Court of Exchequer in Ireland.—Malone.
1 " Now, or late Vice-Chancellor."—Warton.
2 Mr. Warton was elected Professor of Poetry at Oxford in the preced¬
ing year.— Warton.
3 Miss Jones lived at Oxford, and was often of our parties. She was
a very ingenious poetess, and published a volume of poems ; and, on the
whole, was a most sensible, agreeable, and amiable woman. She was
262
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.,1 OF TRINITY
COLLEGE, OXFORD.
"Jan. 28. 1758.2
" Dear Sir,
" Though I might have expected to hear from you, upon your
entrance into a new state of life at a new place, yet recollecting (not
without some degree of shame) that I owe you a letter upon an old
account, I think it my part to write first. This, indeed, I do not
only from complaisance but from interest; for living on in the old
way, I am very glad of a correspondent so capable as yourself to
diversify the hours. You have, at present, too many novelties about
you to need any help from me to drive along your time.
" I know not any thing more pleasant, or more instructive, than to
compare experience with expectation, or to register from time to time
the difference between idea and reality. It is by this kind of obser¬
vation that we grow daily less liable to be disappointed. You, who
are very capable of anticipating futurity, and raising phantoms before
your own eyes, must often have imagined to yourself an academical
life, and have conceived what would be the manners, the views, and
the conversation of men devoted to letters; how they would choose
their companions, how they would direct their studies, and how they
would regulate their lives. Let me know what you expected, and
what you have found. At least record it to yourself, before custom
has reconciled you to the scenes before you, and the disparity of
your discoveries to your hopes has vanished from your mind. It is
sister to the Rev. River Jones, Chanter of Christ Church Cathedral at Ox¬
ford, and Johnson used to call her the Chantress. I have heard him often
address her in this passage from II Penseroso :—
" Thee, Chantress, oft the woods among
I woo," &c.
She died unmarried.— Warton.
1 First inserted in the third edition, vol. i., p. 297.—Editor.
2 This letter is dated June 28, 1758, and so placed by Mr. Boswell; but
this must be a mistake ; for it is evidently written on Mr. Langton's en¬
trance into college life ; now Langton entered Trinity College, Oxford, 7th
July, 1757, and no doubt began to reside in the following autumn, and we
shall see in a subsequent letter dated June 1, 1758, that Langton had been
already some time the pupil of Warton. The true date, therefore, of this
letter was, probably, January and not June.—Croker.
JET. 49.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
263
a rule never to be forgotten, that whatever strikes strongly, should be
described while the first impression remains fresh upon the mind.
" I love, dear Sir, to think on you, and therefore should will¬
ingly write more to you, but that the post will not now give me leave
to do more than send my compliments to Mr. Warton, and tell you
that I am, dear Sir, most affectionately, your very humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
Mr. Burney having enclosed to him an extract from the re¬
view of his " Dictionary " in the Bibliotheque des Savans [t. iii.
p. 482] and a list of subscribers to his Shakspeare, which
Mr. Burney had procured in Norfolk, he wrote the following
answer:—
TO MR. BURNEY, IN LYNNE, NORFOLK.
" Gough Square, Dec. 24. 1757.
" Sir,
" That I may show myself sensible of your favours, and not
commit the same fault a second time, I make haste to answer the
letter which I received this morning. The truth is, the other like¬
wise was received, and I wrote an answer; but being desirous to
transmit you some proposals and receipts, I waited till I could find a
convenient conveyance, and day was passed after day, till other things
drove it from my thoughts; yet not so, but that I remember with
great pleasure your commendation of my Dictionary. Your praise was
welcome, not only because I believe it was sincere, but because praise
has been very scarce. A man of your candour will be surprised
when I tell you, that among all my acquaintance there were only two,
who upon the publication of my book did not endeavour to depress
me with threats of censure from the public, or with objections learned
from those who had learned them from my own preface. Yours is
the only letter of good-will that I have received; though, indeed, I
am promised something of that sort from Sweden.
" How my new edition [of Shakspeare] will be received I know
not; the subscription has not been very successful. I shall publish
about March.
" If you can direct me how to send proposals, I should wish they
were in such hands.
"I remember, Sir, in some of the first letters with which you
favoured me, you mentioned your lady. May I inquire after her ? In
264 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1758.
return for the favours which you have shewn me, it is not much to
tell you, that I wish you and her all that can conduce to your
happiness. I am, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
In 1758 we find him, it should seem, in as easy and pleasant
a state of existence, as constitutional unhappiness ever per¬
mitted him to enjoy.1
TO MR. BURNEY, AT LYNNE, NORFOLK.
"London, March 8. 1758.
" Sir,
"Your kindness is so great, and my claim to any particular
regard from you so little, that I am at a loss how to express my sense
of your favours;2 but I am, indeed, much pleased to be thus distin¬
guished by you.
" I am ashamed to tell you that my Shakspeare will not be out so
soon as I promised my subscribers ; but I did not promise them more
than I promised myself. It will, however, be published before
summer.
" I have sent you a bundle of proposals, which, I think, do not pro¬
fess more than I have hitherto performed. I have printed many of
the plays, and have hitherto left very few passages unexplained ; where
I am quite at loss, I confess my ignorance, which is seldom done by
commentators.
" I have likewise enclosed twelve receipts; not that I mean to im¬
pose upon you the trouble of pushing them with more importunity
than may seem proper, but that you may rather have more than fewer
than you shall want. The proposals you will disseminate as there
shall be an opportunity. I once printed them at length in the
' Chronicle/ and some of my friends (I believe Mr. Murphy, who
formerly wrote the ' Gray's-Inn Journal') introduced them with a
splendid encomium.
" Since the ' Life of Brown,' I have been a little engaged, from
time to time, in the ' Literary Magazine,' but not very lately. I have
not the collection by me, and therefore cannot draw out a catalogue
1 Here Mr. Boswell had inserted a letter to Mr. Langton, dated, by-
mistake, June 9, 1758, which, from its internal evidence, clearly belongs to
17 59, where it will be found.—Croker.
2 This letter was an answer to one in which was enclosed a draft for
the payment of some subscriptions to his Shakspeare.
JET. 49. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 265
of my own parts, but will do it, and send it. Do not buy them, for I
will gather all those that have anything of mine in them, and send
them to Mrs. Burney, as a small token of gratitude for the regard
which she is pleased to bestow upon me.
" I am, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
Dr. Burney has kindly favoured me with the following
memorandum, which I take the liberty to insert in his own
genuine easy style. I love to exhibit sketches of my illustrious
friend by various eminent hands.
" Soon after this, Mr. Burney, during a visit to the capital,
had an interview with him in Gough Square, where he dined
and drank tea with him, and was introduced to the acquain¬
tance of Mrs. Williams. After dinner, Mr. Johnson proposed
to Mr. Burney to go up with him into his garret, which being
accepted, he there found about five or six Greek folios, a deal
writing-desk, and a chair and a half. Johnson, giving to his
guest the entire seat, tottered himself on one with only three
legs and one arm. Here he gave Mr. Burney Mrs. Williams's
history, and showed him some volumes of Shakspeare already
printed, to prove that he was in earnest. Upon Mr. Burney's
opening the first volume, at the ' Merchant of Venice,' he ob¬
served to him that he seemed to be more severe on Warburton
than Theobald. 'O poor Tib! (said Johnson) he was ready
knocked down to my hands; Warburton stands between me
and him.'—' But, Sir (said Mr. Burney), you'll have Warburton
upon your bones, won't you ?' ' No, Sir ; he'll not come out:
he'll only growl in his den.'—'But you think, Sir, that War¬
burton is a superior critic to Theobald ?'—' O, Sir, he'd make
two-and-fifty Theobalds, cut into slices ! The worst of War¬
burton is, that he has a rage for saying something, when there's
nothing to be said.'—Mr. Burney then asked him whether he
had seen the letter which Warburton had written in answer to
a pamphlet, addressed 'To the most impudent man alive.' He
answered in the negative. Mr. Burney told him it was sup¬
posed to be written by Mallet. The controversy now raged
between the friends of Pope and Bolingbroke; and Warburton
2 66
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
and Mallet were the leaders of the several parties. Mr. Burney
asked him then if he had seen Warburton's book against
Bolingbroke's 'Philosophy?'—'No, Sir; I have never read
Bolingbroke's impiety, and therefore am not interested about
its confutation.'"
On the fifteenth of April he began a new periodical paper,
entitled "The Idler,"1 which came out every Saturday in a
weekly newspaper, called "The Universal Chronicle, or Weekly
Gazette," published by Newbery.2 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,
Nos. 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 pol¬
lute his canvas with deformity,"—being added by Johnson, as
Sir Joshua informed me.
1 Of this period of his life Hawkins says : " The profits accruing
from the sale of this paper, and the subscriptions which, from the
year 1756, he was receiving for the edition of Shakspeare by him pro¬
posed, were the only known means of his subsistence for a period of
near four years, and we may suppose them hardly adequate to his wants,
for, upon finding the balance of the account for the Dictionary against
him, he quitted his house in Gough Square, and took chambers in Gray's
Inn ; and Mrs. Williams, upon this removal, fixed herself in lodgings at a
boarding-school, in the neighbourhood of their former dwelling" (Life, p.
364). Mr. Murphy tells us, that " he retired to Gray's Inn, and soon re¬
moved to chambers in the Inner Temple Lane, where he lived in poverty,
total idleness, and the pride of literature. Mr. Fitzherbert (the father of
Lord St. Helen's), a man distinguished through life for his benevolence
and other amiable qualities, used to say, that he paid a morning visit to
Johnson, intending from his chambers to send a letter into the city ; but,
to his great surprise, he found an author by profession without pen, ink, or
paper. The present Bishop of Salisbury [Douglas] was also among those
who endeavoured, by constant attention, to soothe the cares of a mind
which he knew to be afflicted with gloomy apprehensions."—Essay on the
Life and Genius of Johnson, pp. 90-91.—Croker.
2 This is a slight mistake. The first number of the Idler appeared on
the 15th of April, 1758, in No. 2 of the Universal Chronicle, &c., which
was published by J. Payne, for whom also the Rambler had been printed.
On the 29th of April this newspaper assumed the title of Payne's Univer¬
sal Chronicle, &c.—Malone.
JET. 49. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
267
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 lan¬
guage. He describes the miseries of idleness, with the lively
sensations of one who has felt them; and in his private memo¬
randums while engaged in it, we find, " This year I hope to
learn diligence."1 Many of these excellent essays were written
as hastily as an ordinary letter. Mr. Langton remembers
Johnson, when on a visit to 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.
Yet there are in the " Idler" several papers which show as
much profundity of thought, and labour of language, as any of
this great man's writings. No. 14, "Robbery of time;" No.
24, "Thinking;" No. 41, "Death of a friend;" No. 43, "Flight
of time;" No. 51, "Domestic greatness unattainable;" No.
52, "Self-denial;" No. 58, "Actual, how short of fancied, ex¬
cellence;" No. 89, "Physical evil, moral good ;" and his con¬
cluding paper on " The horror of the last," will prove this
assertion. I know not why a motto, the usual trapping of
periodical papers, is prefixed to very few of the "Idlers," as I
have heard Johnson commend the custom: and he never
could be at a loss for one, his memory being stored with in¬
numerable passages of the classics. In this series of essays he
exhibits admirable instances of grave humour, of which he had
an uncommon share. Nor on some occasions has he repressed
that power of sophistry which he possessed in so eminent a
degree. In No. n he treats with the utmost contempt the
opinion that our mental faculties depend, in some degree, upon
the weather; an opinion, which they who have never expe-
1 Pr. and Med., p. 30.
268 boswell's life of johnson. 1758.
rienced its truth are not to be envied, and of which he himself
could not but be sensible, as the effects of weather upon him
were very visible. Yet thus he declaims :
"Surely, nothing is more reproachful to a being endowed with
reason, than to resign its powers to the influence of the air, and live
in dependence on the weather and the wind for the only blessings
which nature has put into our power, tranquillity and benevolence.
This distinction of seasons is produed only by imagination operating
on luxury. To temperance, every day is bright; and every hour is
propitious to diligence. He that shall resolutely excite his faculties,
or exert his virtues, will soon make himself superior to the seasons;
and may set at defiance the morning mist and the evening damp, the
blasts of the east, and the clouds of the south."
Alas! it is too certain, that where the frame has delicate
fibres, and there is a fine sensibility, such influences of the air
are irresistible. He might as well have bid defiance to the
ague, the palsy, and all other bodily disorders. Such boasting
of the mind is false elevation.
" I think the Romans call it Stoicism."
But in this number of his " Idler" his spirits seem to run
riot; for in the wantonness of his disquisition he forgets, for a
moment, even the reverence for that which he held in high re¬
spect ; and describes " the attendant on a Court," as one
" whose business is to watch the looks of a being, weak and
foolish as himself."
His unqualified ridicule of rhetorical gesture or action is not,
surely, a test of truth ; yet we cannot help admiring how well
it is adapted to produce the effect which he wished :
" Neither the judges of our laws, nor the representatives of our
people, would be much affected by laboured gesticulations, or believe
any man the more because he rolled his eyes, or puffed his cheeks, or
spread abroad his arms, or stamped the ground, or thumped his
breast; or turned his eyes sometimes to the ceiling, and sometimes to
the floor."
A casual coincidence with other writers, or an adoption of
yET. 49.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
269
a sentiment or image which has been found in the writings of
another, and afterwards appears in the mind as one's own, is
not unfrequent. The richness of Johnson's fancy, which could
supply his page abundantly on all occasions, and the strength
of his memory, which at once detected the real owner of any
thought, made him less liable to the imputation of plagiarism
than, perhaps, any of our writers. In the " Idler," however,
there is a paper, in which conversation is assimilated to a bowl
of punch, where there is the same train of comparison as in a
poem by Blacklock, in his collection published in 1756; in which
a parallel is ingeniously drawn between human life and that
liquor. It ends,—
" Say, then, physicians of each kind,
Who cure the body or the mind,
What harm in drinking can there be,
Since punch and life so well agree ? "
To the "Idler," when collected in volumes, he added, beside
the "Essay on Epitaphs," and the Dissertation on those of
Pope, an "Essay on the Bravery of the English Common Sol¬
diers." He, however, omitted one of the original papers, which
in the folio copy is No. 22.1
TO THE REV. MR. THOMAS WARTON.
"[London,] April 14. 1758.
" Dear Sir,
" Your notes upon my poet were very acceptable. I beg that
you will be so kind as to continue your searches. It will be repu¬
table to my work, and suitable to your professorship, to have some¬
thing of yours in the notes. As you have given no directions about
your name, I shall therefore put it. I wish your brother would take
the same trouble. A commentary must arise from the fortuitous dis¬
coveries of many men in devious walks of literature. Some of your
remarks are on plays already printed: but I purpose to add an
Appendix of Notes, so that nothing comes too late.
1 This paper may be found in Stockdale's supplemental volume of John¬
son's Miscellaneous Pieces, London, 1788, p. 244 et seqq.
270
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1758.
" You give yourself too much uneasiness, dear Sir, about the loss
of the papers.1 The loss is nothing, if nobody has found them ; nor
even then, perhaps, if the numbers be known. You are not the only
friend that has had the same mischance. You may repair your want
out of a stock, which is deposited with Mr. Allen, of Magdalen Hall;
or out of a parcel which I have just sent to Mr. Chambers, for the
use of any body that will be so kind as to want them. Mr. Langtons
are well; and Miss Roberts, whom I have at last brought to speak,
upon the information which you gave me, that she had something to
say. I am, &c. " Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
" London, June 1. .1758.
"Dear Sir,
"You will receive this by Mr. Baretti, a gentleman particu¬
larly entitled to the notice and kindness of the professor of poesy.
He has time but for a short stay, and will be glad to have it filled up
with as much as he can hear and see.
" In recommending another to your favour, I ought not to omit
thanks for the kindness which you have shown to myself. Have you
any more notes on Shakspeare ? I shall be glad of them.
" I see your pupil2 sometimes; his mind is as exalted as his
stature. I am half afraid of him; but he is no less amiable than
formidable. He will, if the forwardness of his spring be not blasted,
be a credit to you, and to the University. He brings some of my
plays3 with him, which he has my permission to show you, on condi¬
tion you will hide them from every body else. I am, dear Sir, &c.
"Sam. Johnson."
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR
SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.4
" Sep. 21. 1758.
"Dear Sir,
" I should be sorry to think that what engrosses the attention
of my friend, should have no part of mine. Your mind is now full of
1 Receipts for Shakspeare.— Warton. 2 Mr. Langton.— Warton.
3 Part of the impression of the Shakspeare, which Dr. Johnson con¬
ducted alone, and published by subscription. This edition came out in
1765.— Warton.
4 Inserted in the third edition, vol. i., p. 299.—Editor.
JET. 49.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
271
the fate of Dury;1 but his fate is past, and nothing remains but to
try what reflection will suggest to mitigate the terrors of a violent
death, which is more formidable at the first glance, than on a nearer
and more steady view. A violent death is never very painful; the only
danger is, lest it should be unprovided. But if a man can be supposed
to make no provision for death in war, what can be the state that
would have awakened him to the care of futurity ? When would that
man have prepared himself to die, who went to seek death without
preparation ? What then can be the reason why we lament more him
that dies of a wound, than him that dies of a fever? A man that
languishes with disease, ends his life with more pain, but with less
virtue : he leaves no example to his friends, nor bequeaths any honour
to his descendants. The only reason why we lament a soldier's death,
is, that we think he might have lived longer ; yet this cause of grief is
common to many other kinds of death, which are not so passionately
bewailed. The truth is, that every death is violent which is the effect
of accident; every death which is not gradually brought on by the
miseries of age, or when life is extinguished for any other reason than
that it is burnt out. He that dies before sixty, of a cold or consump¬
tion, dies, in reality, by a violent death; yet his death is borne with
patience, only because the cause of his untimely end is silent and in¬
visible. Let us endeavour to see things as they are, and then inquire
whether we ought to complain. Whether to see life as it is, will give
us much consolation, I know not; but the consolation which is drawn
from truth, if any there be, is solid and durable: that which may be
derived from error, must be, like its original, fallacious and fugitive.
I am, dear Sir, your most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.2
" Jan. 9. 1758 (1759)-
" Dearest Sir,
" I must have indeed slept very fast, not to have been
awakened by your letter. None of your suspicions are true; I am
1 Major-General Alexander Dury, of the First Regiment of Foot Guards,
who fell in the gallant discharge of his duty, near St. Cas, in the well-
known unfortunate expedition against France, in 1758. His lady and Mr.
Langton's mother were sisters. He left an only son, Lieutenant-Colonel
Dury, who has a company in the same regiment.
2 Inserted in the third edition, vol. i., p. 287, but transposed to its pre¬
sent position.—Editor.
2 72
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
not much richer than when you left me; and what is worse, my
omission of an answer to your first letter will prove that I am not
much wiser. But I go on as 1 formerly did, designing to be some
time or other both rich and wise ; and yet cultivate neither mind nor
fortune. Do you take notice of my example and learn the danger of
delay. When I was as you are now, towering in [the] confidence of
twenty-one, little did I suspect that I should be, at forty-nine, what I
now am.
"But you do not seem to need my admonition. You are busy in
acquiring and in communicating knowledge, and while you are studying,
enjoy the end of study, by making others wiser and happier. I was
much pleased with the tale that you told me of being tutor to your
sisters. I, who have no sisters nor brothers, look with some degree
of innocent envy on those who may be said to be born to friends;1
and cannot see, without wonder, how rarely that native union is after¬
wards regarded. It sometimes, indeed, happens, that some super¬
venient cause of discord may overpower this original amity; but it
seems to me more frequently thrown away with levity, or lost by neg¬
ligence, than destroyed by injury or violence. We tell the ladies
that good wives make good husbands ; I believe it is a more certain
position that good brothers make good sisters.
" I am satisfied with your stay at home, as Juvenal with his friend's
retirement to Cumae : I know that your absence is best, though it be
not best for me.
' Quamvis digressu veteris confusus amici,
Laudo tamen vacuis quod sedem figere Cumis
Destinet, atque unum civem donare Sibyllae.'2
" Langton is a good Cumae, but who must be Sibylla ? Mrs. Lang-
ton is as wise as Sibyl, and as good; and will live, if my wishes can
prolong life, till she shall in time be as old. But she differs in this,
1 Gibbon, in his Memoirs, alludes to this subject with good taste and
feeling" From my childhood to the present hour, I have deeply and
sincerely regretted my sister, whose life was somewhat prolonged, and
whom I remember to have seen an amiable infant. The relation of a
brother and a sister, particularly if they do not marry, appears to me of a
very singular nature. It is a familiar and tender friendship with a female
much about our own age ; an affection perhaps softened by the secret
influence of the sex, but pure from any mixture of sensual desire—the sole
species of Platonic love that can be indulged with truth, and without
danger." Miscell. Works, vol. i. p. 17. London, 1796.—Croker.
2 Sat. iii. 1—3.
JET. 49.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
273
that she has not scattered her precepts in the wind, at least not those
which she bestowed upon you.
" The two Wartons just looked into the town, and were taken
to see ' Cleone/ where David says, they were starved for want of
company to keep them warm. David and Doddy1 have had a
new quarrel, and, I think, cannot conveniently quarrel any more.
' Cleone' was well acted by all the characters, but Bellamy2 left no¬
thing to be desired. I went the first night, and supported it as well
as I might; for Doddy, you know, is my patron, and I would not
desert him. The play was very well received. Doddy, after the
danger was over, went every night to the stage-side, and cried at the
distress of poor Cleone.
" I have left off housekeeping, and therefore made presents of the
game which you were pleased to send me. The pheasant I gave to
Mr. Richardson,3 the bustard to Dr. Lawrence, and the pot I placed
with Miss Williams, to be eaten by myself. She desires that her
compliments and good wishes may be accepted by the family; and I
make the same request for myself.
"Mr. Reynolds has within these few days raised his price to
twenty guineas a head,4 and Miss is much employed in miniatures.
I know not any body [else] whose prosperity has increased since you
left them.
" Murphy is to have his 'Orphan of China' acted next month; and
is therefore, I suppose, happy. I wish I could tell you of any great
1 Mr. Dodsley, the author of Cleone, first played 2nd Dec., 1758.
2 The well-known Miss George Ann Bellamy, who played the heroine.
•—Croker.
3 The author of Clarissa.
4 At Devonport, before his visit to Italy, his price was three guineas a
head; in 1752, when he first returned, it was five guineas. When he
settled in London he raised his charge to twelve guineas for a head,
twenty-four guineas a half-length, forty-eight guineas for a whole length.
A few years later the prices were fifteen, thirty, and sixty guineas. In
1764 his prices reached the maximum of thirty, fifty, and one hundred
and fifty guineas, half of which was required to be paid at the first sitting.
—Pa?~ticulars collected from the Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds by G. R.
Leslie and Tom Taylor. Walpole—quoted by Mr. Croker—says, " Sir
Joshua, in his old age, becomes avaricious. He had one thousand
guineas for my picture of the three Ladies Waldegrave and this pic¬
ture, which Walpole seems to have thought overpaid, would fetch now
more than five times the original sum paid. (Walpoliana). But see Life
of Reynolds, vol. ii., p. 295 —Editor.
274 boswell's life 01^ johnson. 1758.
good to which I was approaching, but at present my prospects do
not much delight me; however, I am always pleased when I find
that you, dear Sir, remember your affectionate, humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
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 contemplation
of mortality1 but that his reverential affection for her was
not abated by years, as indeed he retained all his tender feel¬
ings 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 constantly
engaged in literary labours which confined him to London ;
and though he had not the comfort of seeing his aged parent,
he contributed liberally to her support.
TO MRS. JOHNSON, IN LICHFIELD.2
" 13th Jan. 1758.3
" Honoured 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.
' Hawkins, Life of Johnson, p. 365.
3 Since the publication of the third edition of this work, the following
letters of Dr. Johnson, occasioned by the last illness of his mother, were
obligingly communicated to Mr. Malone by the Rev. Dr. Vyse. They
are placed here agreeably to the chronological order almost uniformly ob¬
served by the author; and so strongly evince Dr. Johnson's piety and
tenderness of heart, that every reader must be gratified by their insertion.
—Malone.
3 Written by mistake for 1759, as the subsequent letters show. On
the outside of the letter of the 13th was written by another hand—
" Pray acknowledge the receipt of this by return of post, without fail."
—Malone.
ALT. 49.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
275
" 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 forgiye 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 [Porter] put it down; I shall endeavour to obey you.
" I have got twelve guineas 1 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 any thing mentioned in this letter. God bless
you for ever and ever.—I am your dutiful son,
"Sam. Johnson."
TO MISS PORTER, AT MRS. JOHNSON'S,
IN LICHFIELD.
" 16th Jan. 1759.
" 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 Kitty2 that I shall never forget her tenderness
for her mistress. Whatever you can do, continue 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, "Sam. Johnson."
" Over the leaf is a letter to my mother."
1 Six of these twelve guineas Johnson appears to have borrowed from
Mr. Allen, the printer. See Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 366 n.—
Malone.
2 Catherine Chambers, Mrs. Johnson's maid-servant. She died in
October, 1767. See Dr. Johnson's Prayers and Meditations, p. 71 : " Sun¬
day, Oct. 18, 1767. Yesterday, Oct. 17, I took my leave for ever of my
dear old friend, Catherine Chambers, who came to live with my mother
about 1724, and has been but little parted from us since. She buried my
father, my brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-eight years old."—
Malone.
276
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1759-
" 16th Jan. 1759.
" Dear honoured Mother,
" Your weakness afflicts me beyond what I am willing to com¬
municate to you. I do not think you unfit to face death, but I know
not how to bear the thought of losing you. Endeavour 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,
"Sam. Johnson."
TO MRS. JOHNSON, IN LICHFIELD.
" 18th Jan. 1759.
" Dear honoured 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.
" Let Miss write to me every post, however short.
" I am, dear mother, your dutiful son. " Sam. Johnson."
TO MISS PORTER, AT MRS. JOHNSON'S,
IN LICHFIELD.
" 20th Jan. 1759.
" 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,
"Sam. Johnson."
On the other side.
"20th Jan. 1759.
" Dear honoured Mother,1
"Neither your condition nor your character make it fit for
me to say much. You have been the best mother, and I believe the
best woman in the world. 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.2 God grant you his Holy Spirit, and receive you
1 This letter was written on the second leaf of the preceding, addressed
to Miss Porter.—-Maione.
2 So, in the prayer which he composed on this occasion: " Almighty
JET. 50. • boswell's life of johnson. 277
to everlasting happiness, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. Lord Jesus
receive your spirit. Amen.—I am, dear, dear mother, your dutiful
son, "Sam. Johnson."
TO MISS PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
" 23d Jan. 1759.1
"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, 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."
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 com¬
posed it in the evenings of one week,2 sent it to the press in
God, merciful Father, in whose hands are life and death, sanctify unto me
the sorrow which I now feel. Forgive me whatever I have done unkindly
to my mother, and whatever I have omitted to do kindly. Make me to re¬
member her good precepts and good example, and to reform my life
according to thy holy word," &c.—Prayers and Meditations, p. 31.—
Malone.
1 Mrs. Johnson probably died on the 20th or 21st January, and was
buried on the day this letter was written.—Malone.
2 Rasselas was published in March or April, 1759.—Malone.
In chapter 24, Johnson, in the character of Imlac, pathetically de-
278
boswell's life of johnson.
1759-
portions as it was written, and had never since read it over.1
Mr. Strahan, Mr. Johnston, and Mr. Dodsley purchased it for
a hundred pounds, but afterwards 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 perfor¬
mance; which, though he had written nothing 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 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 sensibility, will listen with eager¬
ness and admiration to its truth and wisdom. Voltaire's " Can-
dide," written to refute the system 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 imi¬
tation,2 it would have been in vain to deny that the scheme of
scribes his own feelings : " i have neither mother to be delighted with the
reputation of her son, nor wife to partake the honours of her husband."—
Malone.
1 See under June 2, 1781. Finding it then accidentally in a chaise with
Mr. Boswell, he read it eagerly. This was doubtless long after his de¬
claration to Sir Joshua Reynolds.—Malone.
2 Grimm, in his Correspondence Litteraire, torn, ii., p. 388, writes from
Paris, March 1, 1759 : " M. de Voltaire vient de nous ^gayer par un petit
roman intitule: Candide on LOfttimisme." In a letter to Miss Porter,
under date March 23, 1759 (which will be found in the Appendix to
JET. 50.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
279
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 superin¬
tending Providence: Johnson meant, by showing the unsatis¬
factory nature of things temporal, to direct the hopes of man
to things eternal. " Rasselas," as was observed to me by a
very accomplished 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 successfully 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 medi¬
tation. I am not satisfied if a year passes without my having
read it through ; and at every perusal, my admiration of the
mind which produced it is so highly raised, that I can scarcely
believe that I had the honour of enjoying the intimacy of such
a man.
I restrain myself from quoting passages from this excellent
work, or even referring to them, because I should not know
what to select, or, rather, what to omit. I shall, however, tran¬
scribe one, as it shows how well he could state the arguments
of those who believe in the appearance of departed spirits : a
this volume), Johnson tells her that he is going to publish a little story¬
book, " which," says he, " I will send you when it is out." Rasselas
then—for this was the little story book—was nearly ready for publica¬
tion about the end of March of that year; and as the rate of printing,
unless under pressure, was slow at that period, the little story had been
in the printer's hands for several weeks, probably from the early part
of February. So that Rasselas was being printed, not, it may be, before
Candide was written, but before Candide was printed and published. John¬
son, then, could not have even seen Candide before he had finished Rasselas;
and his statement in the text is confirmed by evidence the probability of
which approximates to absolute certainty. Johnson had not and could
not have seen Candide, when he wrote Rasselas and sent it to press.—
Editor.
28o
boswell's life of johnson.
1759-
doctrine which it is a mistake to suppose that he himself ever
positively held :
" If all your fear be of apparitions (said the prince), I will promise
you safety: there is no danger from the dead; he that is once buried
will be seen no more.
" That the dead are seen no more (said Imlac), I will not under¬
take to maintain, against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all
ages, and of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among
whom apparitions of the dead are not related and believed. This
opinion, which prevails as far as human nature is diffused, could be¬
come universal only by its truth; those that never heard of one
another, would not have agreed in a tale which nothing but experience '
can make credible. That it is doubted by single cavillers, can very
little weaken the general evidence; and some who deny it with their
tongues, confess it by their fears."
Notwithstanding my high admiration of " Rasselas," I will
not maintain that the "morbid melancholy" in Johnson's con¬
stitution may not, perhaps, have made life appear to him more
insipid and unhappy than it generally is: for I am sure that
he had less enjoyment from it than I have. Yet, whatever
additional shade his own particular sensations may have
thrown on his representation of life, attentive observation
and close enquiry have convinced me, that there is too much
reality in the gloomy picture. The truth, however, is, that we
judge of the happiness and misery of life differently at diffe¬
rent times, according to the state of our changeable frame. I
always remember a remark made to me by a Turkish lady,
educated in France: "Ma foi, monsieur, notre bonheur depend
de la facon que notre sang cireuleThis have I learnt from a
pretty hard course of experience, and would, from sincere
benevolence, impress upon all who honour this book with a
perusal, that until a steady conviction is obtained, that the
present life is an imperfect state, and only a passage to a
better, if we comply with the divine scheme of progressive im¬
provement ; and also that it is a part of the mysterious plan
of Providence, that intellectual beings must "be made perfect
through suffering there will be a continual recurrence of di-s-
JET. 50.
boswell's life of johnson.
28l
appointment and uneasiness. But if we walk with hope in
"the mid-day sun" of revelation, our temper and disposition
will be such, that the comforts and enjoyments in our way will
be relished, while we patiently support the inconveniences and
pains. After much speculation and various reasonings, I ac¬
knowledge myself convinced of the truth of Voltaire's conclu¬
sion, "Apres tout, cest tin viottde passable."x But we must not
think too deeply:
" where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise,"
is, in many respects, more than poetically just. Let us culti¬
vate, under the command of good principles, " la thcorie des
sensations agrcablesand, as Mr. Burke once admirably
counselled a grave and anxious gentleman, "live pleasant."
The effect of " Rasselas," and of Johnson's other moral tales,
is thus beautifully illustrated by Mr. Courtenay:
" Impressive truth, in splendid fiction drest,
Checks the vain wish, and calms the troubled breast;
O'er the dark mind a light celestial throws,
And soothes the angry passions to repose;
As oil effus'd illumes and smooths the deep,
When round the bark the foaming surges sweep."2
It will be recollected, that during all this year he carried on
his " Idler ;"3 and no doubt he was also proceeding, though
1 The sentiment which Ithuriel is made to express, when resolving
not to punish Persepolis, he says : " Si tout n'est pas bien, tout est pas¬
sable."— Vision de Babozic, QEuvres, torn, xliv., p. 123.—Editor.
2 Literary and Moral Character of Johnson.
3 This paper was in such high estimation before it was collected into
volumes, that it was seized on with avidity by various publishers of news¬
papers and magazines, to enrich their publications. Johnson, to put a stop
to this unfair proceeding, wrote for the Universal Chronicle the following
advertisement; in which there is, perhaps, more pomp of words than the
occasion demanded:
"London, Jan. 5, 1759. Advertisement. The proprietors of the
paper entitled The Idler, having found that those essays are inserted in
the newspapers and magazines with so little regard to justice or decency,
that the Universal Chronicle, in which they first appear, is not always
282
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1759-
slowly, in his edition of Shakspeare. He, however, from that
liberality which never failed, when called upon to assist other
labourers in literature, found time to translate, for Mrs. Lenox's
English version of Brumoy, "A Dissertation on the Greek
Comedy,"-f- and "The General Conclusion of the Book."-f-
An inquiry into the state of foreign countries was an object
that seems at all times to have interested Johnson. Hence Mr.
Newbery found no great difficulty in persuading him to write
the Introduction * to a collection of voyages and travels pub¬
lished by him under the title of " The World Displayed the
first volume of which appeared this year, and the remaining
volumes in subsequent years.
I would ascribe to this year the following letter to a son of
one of his early friends at Lichfield, Mr. Joseph Simpson, bar¬
rister, and author of a tract entitled " Reflections on the
Study of the Law."
TO JOSEPH SIMPSON, ESQ.
"Dear Sir,
" Your father's inexorability not only grieves but amazes me :
he is your father; he was always accounted a wise man; nor do I re¬
member any thing to the disadvantage of his good nature; but in his
refusal to assist you there is neither good nature, fatherhood, nor
wisdom. It is the practice of good nature to overlook faults which
have already, by the consequences, punished the delinquent. It is
natural for a father to think more favourably than others of his
mentioned, think it necessary to declare to the publishers of those collec¬
tions, that however patiently they have hitherto endured these injuries,
made yet more injurious by contempt, they have now determined to endure
them no longer. They have already seen essays, for which a very large price
is paid, transferred, with the most shameless rapacity, into the weekly or
monthly compilations, and their right, at least for the present, alienated
from them, before they could themselves be said to enjoy it. But they
would not willingly be thought to want tenderness, even for men by whom
no tenderness hath been shown. The past is without remedy, and shall
be without resentment. But those who have been thus busy with their
sickles in the fields of their neighbours are henceforward to take notice,
that the time of impunity is at an end. Whoever shall, without our leave,
lay the hand of rapine upon our papers, is to expect that we shall vindicate
JET. 50.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
283
children; and it is always wise to give assistance, while a little help
will prevent the necessity of greater.
" If you married imprudently, you miscarried at your own hazard,
at an age when you had a right of choice. It would be hard if the
man might not choose his own wife, who has a right to plead before
the judges of his country.
" If your imprudence has ended in difficulties and inconveniences,
you are yourself to support them; and, with the help of a little better
health, you would support them and conquer them. Surely, that want
which accident and sickness produce is to be supported in every
region of humanity, though there were neither friends nor fathers in
the world. You have certainly from your father the highest claim of
charity, though none of right: and therefore I would counsel you to
omit no decent nor manly degree of importunity. Your debts in the
whole are not large, and of the whole but a small part is troublesome.
Small debts are like small shot; they are rattling on every side, and
can scarcely be escaped without a wound: great debts are like
cannon; of loud noise, but little danger. You must, therefore, be
enabled to discharge petty debts, that you may have leisure, with
security, to struggle with the rest. Neither the great nor little debts
disgrace you. I am sure you have my esteem for the courage with
which you contracted them, and the spirit with which you endure
them. I wish my esteem could be of more use. I have been
invited, or have invited myself, to several parts of the kingdom; and
will not incommode my dear Lucy by coming to Lichfield, while her
present lodging is of any use to her.1 I hope, in a few days, to be at
leisure, and to make visits. Whither I shall fly is matter of no im¬
portance. A man unconnected is at home every where; unless he
may be said to be at home no where. I am sorry, dear Sir, that
our due, by the means which justice prescribes, and which are warranted
by the immemorial prescriptions of honourable trade. We shall lay hold,
in our turn, on their copies, degrade them from the pomp of wide margin
and diffuse typography, contract them into a narrow space, and sell them
at an humble price; yet not with a view of growing rich by confiscations,
for we think not much better of money got by punishment than by crimes.
We shall therefore, when our losses are repaid, give what profit shall re¬
main to the Magdalensj for we know not who can be more properly taxed
for the support of penitent prostitutes, than prostitutes in whom there yet
appears neither penitence nor shame."
1 She resided in the house which, by his mother's death, was now be¬
come the property of Johnson.—Croker.
284
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1759-
where you have parents, a man of your merits should not have a
home. I wish I could give it you. I am, my dear Sir, affectionately
yours, " Sam. Johnson."
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.1 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 Vansittart2 climbing over the wall, but he has re¬
fused me. 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 once said,4 "No
man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get him¬
self into a jail; for being in a ship is being in a jail, with the
1 Lord Stowell informs me that he prided himself in being, during his
visits to Oxford, accurately academic in all points'; and he wore his gown
almost ostentatiously.—Croker.
2 Dr. Robert Vansittart, of the ancient and respectable family of that
name in Berkshire. He was eminent for learning and worth, and much
esteemed by Dr. Johnson.
Dr. Robert Vansittart, LL.D., Professor of Civil Law at Oxford, and
Recorder of Windsor. He was a senior fellow of All Souls, where, after
he had given up the profession in London, he chiefly resided in a set of
rooms, formerly the old library, which he had fitted up in the Gothic style,
and where he died about 1794. He was remarkable for his good humour
and inoffensive wit, and a great favourite on the Oxford circuit. He was
tall and very thin ; and the bar gave the name of Counsellor Van to a
sharp-pointed rock on the Wye, which still retains the name. He was the
elder brother of Mr. Henry Vansittart, governor of Bengal, father of the
present Lord Bexley, to whom I am indebted for the above particulars
relative to his uncle.—Croker.
3 At the installation of the Earl of Westmoreland as chancellor of the
university, July 7, 1759.—Croker.
4 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd ed., p. 126.
JET. 50.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
285
chance of being drowned." And at another time, " A man in
a jail has more room, better food, and commonly better com¬
pany." 1 The letter was as follows :
"Chelsea, 16th March, 1759.
" Dear Sir,
" I am again your petitioner, in behalf of that great Cham 2 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 distress. 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 this 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
George Hay, then one of the Lords Commissioners of the Ad¬
miralty ; 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.
What particular new scheme of life Johnson had in view this
1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd ed., p. 251.
2 In my first edition this word was printed Chum, as it appears in one
of Mr. Wilkes's Miscellanies, and I animadverted on Dr. Smollett's igno¬
rance ; for which let me propitiate the mimes of that ingenious and bene¬
volent gentleman. Chum was certainly a mistaken reading for Cham, the
title of the Sovereign of Tartary, which is well applied to Johnson, the
Monarch of Literature ; and was an epithet familiar to Smollett. See
Roderick Random, chap. lvi. For this correction I am indebted to Lord
Palmerston, whose talents and literary acquirements accord well with his
respectable pedigree of Temple.
286
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1760.
year, I have not discovered; but that he meditated one of
some sort, is clear from his private devotions, in which we
find [24th March] " the change of outward things which I am
now to make and, " Grant me the grace of thy Holy Spirit,
that the course which I am now beginning may proceed ac¬
cording to thy laws, and end in the enjoyment of thy favour."
But he did not, in fact, make any external or visible change.
At this time, there being a competition among the archi¬
tects of London to be employed in the building of Blackfriars
Bridge, a question was very warmly agitated whether semi¬
circular or elliptical arches were preferable. In the design
offered by Mr. Mylne the elliptical form was adopted, and
therefore it was the great object of his rivals to attack it.
Johnson's regard for his friend Mr. Gwyn induced him to en¬
gage in this controversy against Mr. Mylne ;1 and after being
1 Sir John Hawkins has given a long detail of it, in that manner vul¬
garly, but significantly, called rigmarole; in which, amidst an ostentatious
exhibition of arts and artists, he t£.lks of " proportions of a column being
taken from that of the human figure, and adjusted by nature—masculine
and feminine—in a man, sesquioctave of the head, and in a woman sesqui-
nonal; nor has he failed to introduce a jargon of musical terms, which do
not seem much to correspond with the subject, but serve to make up the
heterogeneous mass. To follow the knight through all this, would be an
useless fatigue to myself, and not a little disgusting to my readers. I shall,
therefore, only made a few remarks upon his statement.
He seems to exult in having detected Johnson in procuring, "from
a person eminently skilled in mathematics and the principles of archi¬
tecture, answers to a string of questions drawn up by himself, touch¬
ing the comparative strength of semicircular and elliptical arches."
Now I cannot conceive how Johnson could have acted more wisely. Sir
John complains that the opinion of that excellent mathematician, Mr.
Thomas Simpson, did not preponderate in favour of the semicircular arch.
But he should have known, that however eminent Mr. Simpson was in the
higher parts of abstract mathematical science, he was little versed in
mixed and practical mechanics. Mr. Muller, of Woolwich Academy, the
scholastic father of all the great engineers which this country has employed
for forty years, decided the question by declaring clearly in favour of the
elliptical arch. It is ungraciously suggested, that Johnson's motive for
opposing Mr. Mylne's scheme may have been his prejudice against him as
a native of North Britain ; when, in truth, as has been stated, he gave the
aid of his able pen to a friend, who was one of the candidates; and so far
was he from having any illiberal antipathy to Mr. Mylne, that he after-
ALT. 51.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
287
at considerable pains to study the subject, he wrote three
several letters in the " Gazeteer," in opposition to his plan.
If it should be remarked that this was a controversy which
lay quite out of Johnson's way, let it be remembered, that,
after all, his employing his powers of reasoning and eloquence
upon a subject which he had studied on the moment, is not
more strange than what we often observe in lawyers, who, as
Quicqiiid agunt homines is the matter of lawsuits, are some¬
times obliged to pick up a temporary knowledge of an art or
science, of which they understood nothing till their brief was
delivered, and appear to be much masters of it. In like man¬
ner, members of the legislature frequently introduce and ex¬
patiate upon subjects of which they have informed themselves
for the occasion.
In 1760 he wrote ' An Address of the Painters to George III.
on his Accession to the Throne of these Kingdoms," -f- which
wards lived with that gentleman upon very agreeable terms of acquain¬
tance, and dined with him at his house. Sir John Hawkins, indeed, gives
full vent to his own prejudice in abusing Blackfriars Bridge, calling it "an
edifice, in which beauty and symmetry are in vain sought for; by which
the citizens of London have perpetuated their own disgrace, and subjected
a whole nation to the reproach of foreigners." Whoever has contemplated,
■placido lumine, this stately, elegant, and airy structure, which has so fine
an effect, especially on approaching the capital on that quarter, must
wonder at such unjust and ill-tempered censure; and I appeal to all
foreigners of good taste, whether this bridge be not one of the most dis¬
tinguished ornaments of London. As to the stability of the fabric, it is
certain that the city of London took every precaution to have the best
Portland stone for it; but as this is to be found in the quarries belonging
to the public, under the direction of the Lords of the Treasury, it so hap¬
pened that parliamentary interest, which is often the bane of fair pursuits,
thwarted their endeavours. Notwithstanding this disadvantage, it is well
known that not only has Blackfriars Bridge never sunk either in its foun¬
dation or in its arches, which were so much the subject of contest, but any
injuries which it has suffered from the effects of severe frosts have been
already, in some measure, repaired with sounder stone, and every neces¬
sary renewal can be completed at a moderate expense.
This " stately, elegant, and airy structure," lasted till about 1866, when
its condition being discovered to be dangerous, its removal was resolved
on. The new Blackfriars Bridge, built from the designs of Mr. Page,
the architect of Westminster Bridge, was opened by Her Majesty in
1869.—Editor.
288
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1760.
no monarch ever ascended with more sincere congratulations
from his people. Two generations of foreign princes had pre¬
pared their minds to rejoice in having again a king who
gloried in being "born a Briton."1 He also wrote for Mr.
Baretti the Dedication -f* of his Italian and English Dictionary,
to the Marquis of Abreu, then Envoy-Extraordinary from
Spain at the Court of Great Britain.
Johnson was now either very idle, or very busy with his
Shakspeare; for I can find no other public composition by
him except an Introduction to the Proceedings of the Com¬
mittee for Clothing the French Prisoners ;* one of the many
proofs that he was ever awake to the calls of humanity ; and
an account which he gave in the "Gentleman's Magazine" of
Mr. Tytler's acute and able vindication of Mary Queen of
Scots.* The generosity of Johnson's feelings shines forth in
the following sentence:—
" It has now been fashionable, for near half a century, to defame
and vilify the house of Stuart, and to exalt and magnify the reign of
Elizabeth. The Stuarts have found few apologists, for the dead cannot
pay for praise; and who will, without reward, oppose the tide of popu¬
larity? Yet there remains still among us, not wholly extinguished, a
zeal for truth, a desire of establishing right in opposition to fashion."
In this year I have not discovered a single private letter
written by him to any of his friends. It should seem, how¬
ever, that he had at this period a floating intention of writing
a history of the recent and wonderful successes of the British
arms in all quarters of the globe ; for among his resolutions or
memorandums, September 18, there is, "Send for books for
Hist, of War."2 Howmuchis itto be regretted that this intention
1 " Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of Briton."
—George III.'s first Speech to his Parliament.—Croker.
2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 42.
The following memorandum, made on his birthday in this year, may
be quoted as an example of the rules and resolutions which he was in the
habit of making, for the guidance of his moral conduct and literary studies :
" Sept. 18. Resolved, D (eo) j {uvante).
To combat notions of obligation :
jET. 51. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 289
was not fulfilled! His majestic expression would have carried
down to the latest posterity the glorious achievements of his
country, with the same fervent glow which they produced on
the mind at the time. He would have been under no tempta¬
tion to deviate in any degree from truth, which he held very
sacred, or to take a licence, which a learned divine told me he
once seemed, in a conversation, jocularly to allow to historians.
" There are (said he) inexcusable lies, and consecrated lies.
For instance, we are told that on the arrival of the news of
the unfortunate battle of Fontenoy, every heart beat and
every eye was in tears. Now we know that no man ate his
dinner the worse, but there should have been all this concern ;
and to say there was (smiling), may be reckoned a consecrated
lie."
This year Mr. Murphy, having thought himself ill-treated
by the Rev. Dr. Franklin, who was one of the writers of " The
Critical Review," published an indignant vindication in "A
Poetical Epistle to Samuel Johnson, A. M." in which he com¬
pliments Johnson in a just and elegant manner:—
"Transcendent Genius ! whose prolific vein
Ne'er knew the frigid poet's toil and pain;
To apply to study:
To reclaim imaginations:
To consult the resolves on Tetty's coffin :
To rise early:
To study religion:
To go to church :
To drink less strong liquors :
To keep a journal:
To oppose laziness, by doing what is to be done to-morrow :
Rise as early as I can :
Send for Books for Hist, of War:
Put books in order:
Scheme of life."
The fourth item refers probably to some resolutions he had committed
to writing after contemplating his wife's coffin, and which, perhaps, he had
not lately looked at. This is confirmed by one of his prayers on her death
(25th April, 1752). " Enable me to persevere in the purposes which I re¬
corded in thy sight, when she lay dead before me." Pray, and Med.
5 Edit. 1817.—Markland.—Croker.
U
290
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1760.
To whom Apollo opens all his store,
And every Muse presents her sacred lore;
Say, powerful Johnson, whence thy verse is fraught
With so much grace, such energy of thought;
Whether thy Juvenal instructs the age
In chaster numbers, and new-points his rage;
Or fair Irene sees, alas ! too late,
Her innocence exchanged for guilty state;
Whate'er you write, in every golden line
Sublimity and elegance combine;
Thy nervous phrase impresses every soul,
While harmony gives rapture to the whole."
Again, towards the conclusion :
" Thou then, my friend, who see'st the dang'rous strife
In which some demon bids me plunge my life,
To the Aonian fount direct my feet,
Say, where the Nine thy lonely musings meet;
Where warbles to thy ear the sacred throng,
Thy moral sense, thy dignity of song;
Tell, for you can, by what unerring art
You wake to finer feelings every heart;
In each bright page some truth important give,
And bid to future times thy Rambler live."
I take this opportunity to relate the manner in which an
acquaintance first commenced between Dr. Johnson and Mr.
Murphy. During the publication of the "Gray's Inn Journal,"
a periodical paper which was successfully carried on by Mr.
Murphy alone, when a very young man, he happened to be in
the country with Mr. Foote; and having mentioned that he
was obliged to go to London in order to get ready for the
press one of the numbers of that journal, Foote said to him,
" You need not go on that account. Here is a French maga¬
zine, in which you will find a very pretty oriental tale; trans¬
late that and send it to your printer." Mr. Murphy having
read the tale, was highly pleased with it, and followed Foote's
advice. When he returned to town, this tale was pointed out to
him in " The Rambler," from whence it had been translated into
^T. 51.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
291
the French magazine.1 Mr. Murphy then waited upon Johnson,
to explain this curious incident. His talents, literature, and
gentleman-like manners were soon perceived by Johnson, and
a friendship was formed which was never broken.
Johnson, who was ever awake to the calls of humanity,
wrote this year an Introduction to the Proceedings of the
Committee for Clothing the French Prisoners.2
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR
SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.3
"October 18. 1760.
" Dear Sir,
" You that travel about the world, have more materials for
letters, than I who stay at home; and should, therefore, write with
frequency equal to your opportunities. I should be glad to have all
England surveyed by you, if you would impart your observations in
narratives as agreeable as your last. Knowledge is always to be wished
to those who can communicate it well. While you have been riding
and running, and seeing the tombs of the learned, and the camps of
the valiant, I have only staid at home, and intended to do great
things, which I have not done. Beau4 went away to Cheshire,
and has not yet found his way back. Chambers passed the vacation
at Oxford.
" I am very sincerely solicitous for the preservation or curing of
Mr. Langton's sight, and am glad that the chirurgeon at Coventry
gives him so much hope. Mr. Sharp is of opinion that the tedious
maturation of the cataract is a vulgar error, and that it may be re¬
moved as soon as it is formed. This notion deserves to be con-
1 When Mr. Murphy first became acquainted with Dr. Johnson he was
about thirty-one years old. He died at Knightsbridge, June 18, 1805, in
his eighty-second year. The extraordinary paper mentioned in the text
(The History of Abouzaid, the Son of Morad) is No. 38, of the second
series [of the Gray's Inn Journal], published on June 15, 1754; which is a
re-translation from the French version of the Rambler, No. 190.—Malone.
2 This paragraph, given both in the first and second editions, is omitted
in the third and all subsequent editions.—Editor. *
3 This letter appears for the first time in the third edition.—Editor.
4 Topham Beauclerk, Esq.
292
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1761.
sidered; I doubt whether it be universally true; but if it be true in
some cases, and those cases can be distinguished, it may save a long
and uncomfortable delay.
" Of dear Mrs. Langton you give me no account; which is the less
friendly, as you know how highly I think of her, and how much I
interest myself in her health. I suppose you told her of my opinion,
and likewise suppose it was not followed; however, I still believe it to
be right.
" Let me hear from you again, wherever you are, or whatever you
are doing; whether you wander or sit still, plant trees or make
Rustics} play with your sisters or muse alone ; and in return I will tell
you the success of Sheridan,2 who at this instant is playing Cato, and
has already played Richard twice. He had more company the second
than the first night, and will make I believe a good figure in the
whole, though his faults seem to be very many; some of natural
deficience, and some of laborious affectation. He has, I think, no
power of assuming either that dignity or elegance which some men,
who have little of either in common life, can exhibit on the stage.
His voice when strained is unpleasing, and when low is not always
heard. He seems to think too much on the audience, and turns his
face too often to the galleries. ^
" However, I wish him well; and among other reasons, because I
like his wife.3 Make haste to write to, dear Sir, your most affectionate
servant, "Sam. Johnson."
In 1761 Johnson appears to have done little. He was still,
1 Essays with that title, written about this time by Mr. Langton, but not
published.
2 Thomas Sheridan, son of the friend of Swift, and father of Richard
Brinsley Sheridan, was born at Quilca, in Ireland, in 1721, and died in
1788. This was his first appearance at Drury Lane for sixteen years.—
Croker.
3 Mrs. Sheridan [Frances Chamberlaine] was author of Memoirs of Miss
Sydney Biddulph, a novel of great merit, and of some other pieces.
Her last work is, perhaps, her best—Nourjahad, an eastern tale: in
which a pure morality is inculcated, with a great deal of fancy and consi¬
derable force. No wonder that Dr. Johnson should have liked her ! Dr.
Parr, in a letter to Mr. Moore, published in his Life of R. B. Sheridan (vol.
i. p. 11), thus mentions her :—" I once or twice met his mother,—she was
quite celestial! fcoth her virtues and her genius were highly esteemed."
This amiable and accomplished woman died at Blois, in August, 1766.—
Croker.
JET. 52.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
293
no doubt, proceeding in his edition of Shakspeare ; 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."1 He, however, contributed this year the Preface *
to " Rolt's 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 booksellers,
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 specimen of his
vanity and impudence. But he gave a more eminent proof of it
in our sister kingdom, as Dr. Johnson informed 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 several months, being enter¬
tained at the best tables as "the ingenious Mr. Rolt."2 His
conversation, indeed, did not discover much of the fire of a
1 Prayers and Meditations,-p. 38.
2 I have had inquiry made in Ireland as to this story, but do not find
it recollected there. I give it on the authority of Dr. Johnson, to which
may be added, that of the Biographical Dictionary, and Biographia
Dramatica; in both of which it has stood many years. Mr. Malone
observes, that the truth probably is, not that an edition was published with
Rolt's name in the title-page, but that, the poem being then anonymous,
Rolt acquiesced in its being attributed to him in conversation.
In the latest edition of Chalmers's Biographical Dictionary (1816), the
foregoing story is indeed noticed, but with an observation that it has been
refuted. Richard Rolt died in March, 1770.—Croker.
294
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1761.
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. Several instances of
such literary fraud have been detected. The Rev. Dr. Camp¬
bell, of St. Andrew's, wrote " An Enquiry into the original of
Moral Virtue," the manuscript of which he sent to Mr. Innes,
a clergyman in England, who was his countryman and ac¬
quaintance. Innes published it with his own name to it; and
before the imposition was discovered, obtained considerable
promotion, as a reward of his merit.1 The celebrated Dr.
Hugh Blair, and his cousin Mr. George Bannatine, when stu¬
dents in divinity, wrote a poem, entitled the " Resurrection,"
copies of which were handed about in manuscript. They were,
at length, very much surprised to see a pompous edition of it
in folio, dedicated to the Princess Dowager of Wales, by a Dr.
Douglas, as his own. Some years ago a little novel, entitled
" The Man of Feeling," was assumed by Mr. Eccles, a young
Irish clergyman, who was afterwards drowned near Bath.2 He
had been at the pains to transcribe the whole book, with blot-
tings, interlineations, and corrections, that it might be shown
to several people as an original. It was, in truth, the produc¬
tion of Mr. Henry Mackenzie, an attorney in the exchequer at
Edinburgh, who is the author of several other ingenious pieces;3
1 I have both the books. Innes was the clergyman who brought
Psalmanazar to England, and was an accomplice in his extraordinary-
fiction.
2 " Died, the Rev. Mr. Eccles, at Bath. In attempting to save a boy,
whom he saw sinking in the Avon, he, together with the youth, were both
drowned."—Gent. Mag. Aug. 15, 1777. And in the magazine for the next
month are some verses on this event, with an epitaph, of which the first
line is,
" Beneath this stone the ' Man of Feeling'' lies."—Croker.
3 Henry Mackenzie, Esq., died at Edinburgh, Jan. 14, 1831, in his
eighty-sixth year. He was an intimate friend of Sir Walter Scott's, who
has written his life, and at whose house I had the pleasure of meeting that
amiable old man.- Croker.
JET. 52.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
295
but the belief with regard to Mr. Eccles became so general,
that it was thought necessary for Messieurs Strahan and Cadell
to publish an advertisement in the newspapers, contradicting
the report, and mentioning that they purchased the copy¬
right of Mr. Mackenzie. I can conceive this kind of fraud to
be very easily practised with successful effrontery. The filia¬
tion of a literary performance is difficult of proof; seldom is
there any witness present at its birth. A man either in confi¬
dence, or by improper means, obtains possession of a copy of
it in manuscript, and boldly publishes it as his own. The true
author, in many cases, may not be able to make his title clear.
Johnson, indeed, from the peculiar features of his literary off¬
spring, might bid defiance to any attempt to appropriate them
to others :
" But Shakspeare's magic could not copied be;
Within that circle none durst walk but he ! "
He this year lent his friendly assistance to correct and im¬
prove a pamphlet written by Mr. Gwyn, the architect, entitled
" Thoughts on the Coronation of George III."*
Johnson had now for some years admitted Mr. Baretti to
his intimacy; nor did their friendship cease upon their being
separated by Baretti's revisiting his native country, as appears
from Johnson's letters to him.
TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN.1
"London, June 10. 1761.
"You reproach me very often with parsimony of writing; but you
may discover, by the extent of my paper, that I design to recompense
rarity by length. A short letter to a distant friend is, in my opinion,
1 The originals of Dr. Johnson's three letters to Mr. Baretti, which are
among the very best he ever wrote, were communicated to the proprietors
of that instructive and elegant monthly miscellany, The European Maga¬
zine, in which they first appeared.
296
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1761.
an insult like that of a slight bow or cursory salutation;—a proof of
unwillingness to do much, even where there is a necessity of doing
something. Yet it must be remembered, that he who continues the
same course of life in the same place, will have little to tell. One
week and one year are very like one another. The silent changes
made by him are not always perceived; and if they are not perceived,
cannot be recounted. I have risen and lain down, talked and mused,
while you have roved over a considerable part of Europe; yet I have
not envied my Baretti any of his pleasures, though, perhaps, I have
envied others his company : and I am glad to have other nations
made acquainted with the character of the English, by a traveller who
has so nicely inspected our manners, and so successfully studied our
literature. I received your kind letter from Falmouth, in which you
gave me notice of your departure for Lisbon; and another from
Lisbon, in which you told me that you were to leave Portugal in a few
days. To either of these how could any answer be returned ? I have
had a third from Turin, complaining that I have not answered the
former. Your English style still continues in its purity and vigour.
With vigour your genius will supply it; but its purity must be
continued by close attention. To use two languages familiarly,
and without contaminating one by the other, is very difficult:
and to use more than two, is hardly to be hoped. The praises
which some have received for their multiplicity of languages, may
be sufficient to excite industry, but can hardly generate confi¬
dence.
" I know not whether I can heartily rejoice at the kind reception
which you have found, or at the popularity to which you are exalted.
I am willing that your merit should be distinguished; but cannot
wish that your affections may be gained. I would have you happy
wherever you are : yet I would have you wish to return to England.
If ever you visit us again, you will find the kindness of your friends
undiminished. To tell you how many inquiries are made after you,
would be tedious, or if not tedious, would be vain; because you may
be told in a very few words, that all who knew you wish you well;
and that all that you embraced at your departure, will caress you at
your return: therefore do not let Italian academicians nor Italian
ladies drive us from your thoughts. You may find among us what
you will leave behind, soft smiles and easy sonnets. Yet I shall
not wonder if all our invitations should be rejected: for there is>
a pleasure in being considerable at home, which is not easily re¬
sisted.
JET. 52. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
29 7
" By conducting Mr. Southwell1 to Venice, you fulfilled, I know,
the original contract: yet I would wish you not wholly to lose him
from your notice, but to recommend him to such acquaintance as may
best secure him from suffering by his own follies, and to take such
general care both of his safety and his interest as may come within
your power. His relations will thank you for any such gratuitous at¬
tention : at least, they will not blame you for any evil that may happen,
whether they thank you or not for any good.
" You know that we have a new king and a new parliament. Of
the new parliament Fitzherbert is a member. We were so weary of
our old king, that we are much pleased with his successor; of whom
we are so much inclined to hope great things, that most of us begin
already to believe them. The young man is hitherto blameless; but
it would be unreasonable to expect much from the immaturity of
juvenile years, and the ignorance of princely education. He has been
long in the hands of the Scots, and has already favoured them more
than the English will contentedly endure. But, perhaps, he scarcely
knows whom he has distinguished, or whom he has disgusted.
" The artists have instituted a yearly Exhibition of pictures and
statues, in imitation, as I am told, of foreign academies. This year
was the second Exhibition. They please themselves much with the
multitude of spectators, and imagine that the English school will rise
in reputation. Reynolds is without a rival, and continues to add
thousands to thousands, which he deserves, among other excellencies,
by retaining his kindness for Baretti. This Exhibition has filled the
heads of the artists and lovers of art. Surely life, if it be not long, is
tedious, since we are forced to call in the assistance of so many
trifles to rid us of our time,—of that time which never can return.2
1 Probably the Hon. Thomas Arthur Southwell, afterwards second Vis¬
count Southwell, who was born in 1742, and succeeded his father in 1780.
—Croker.
2 This classification of the art of painting and the exhibition of its pro¬
ductions among the futile trifles by which mankind endeavour to get rid
of time, will excite some surprise, but Hawkins (Life, pp. 318-19) tells
us that" of the beauties of painting, notwithstanding the many eulogiums
on that art which, after the commencement of his friendship with Sir
Joshua Reynolds, he inserted in his writings, Johnson had not the least
conception; and this leads me to mention a fact to the purpose, which I
well remember. One evening, at the club, I came in with a small roll of
prints, which, in the afternoon, I had picked up: I think they were land ¬
scapes of Perelle, and laying it down with my hat, Johnson's curiosity
prompted him to take it up and unroll it: he viewed the prints seve-
298
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1761.
" I know my Baretti will not be satisfied with a letter in which I
give him no account of myself: yet what account shall I give him ?
I have not, since the day of our separation, suffered or done any
thing considerable. The only change in my way of life is, that I have
frequented the theatre more than in former seasons. But I have
gone thither only to escape from myself. We have had many new
farces, and the comedy called 'The Jealous Wife,'1 which, though
not written with much genius, was yet so well adapted to the stage,
and so well exhibited by the actors, that it was crowded for near
twenty nights. I am digressing from myself to the playhouse; but a
barren plan must be filled with episodes. Of myself I have nothing
to say, but that I have hitherto lived without the concurrence of my
own judgment; yet I continue to flatter myself, that, when you
return, you will find me mended. I do not wonder that, where the
monastic life is permitted, every order finds votaries, and every
monastery inhabitants. Men will submit to any rule, by which they
may be exempted from the tyranny of caprice and of chance. They
are glad to supply by external authority their own want of constancy
and resolution, and court the government of others, when long expe¬
rience has convinced them of their own inability to govern themselves.
If I were to visit Italy, my curiosity would be more attracted by con-
rally with great attention, and asked me what sort of pleasure such
things could afford me: I told him that, as representations of nature,
containing an assemblage of such particulars as render rural scenes
delightful, they presented to my mind the objects themselves, and that
my imagination realised the prospect before me. He said, that was
more than his would do, for that in his whole life he was never capable
of discerning the least resemblance of any kind between the picture
and the subject it was intended to represent. To the delights of music
he was equally insensible : neither voice nor instrument, nor the har¬
mony of concordant sounds, had power over his affections, or even to
engage his attention. Of music in general, he has been heard to say, " it
excites in my mind no ideas, and hinders me from contemplating my own;"
and of a fine singer, or instrumental performer, that " he had the merit of
a Canary-bird." Not that his hearing was so defective as to account for
this insensibility, but he laboured under the misfortune which he has noted
in the Life of Barretier, and is common to more persons than in this
musical age are willing to confess it, of wanting that additional sense or
faculty, which renders music grateful to the human ear."—Croker.
1 Colman's comedy of The Jealous Wife came out in February, 1761.
The characters of Mr. Oakly and Mrs. Oakly were performed by Garrick
and Mrs. Pritchard, and Mrs. Clive was the Lady Freelove.— Wright.
JET. 52. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 299
vents than by palaces; though I am afraid that I should find expecta¬
tion in both places equally disappointed, and life in both places
supported with impatience and quitted with reluctance. That it must
be so soon quitted, is a powerful remedy against impatience; but
what shall free us from reluctance? Those who have endeavoured to
teach us to die well, have taught few to die willingly : yet I cannot
but hope that a good life might end at last in a contented death.
" You see to what a train of thought I am drawn by the mention of
myself. Let me now turn my attention upon you. I hope you take
care to keep an exact journal, and to register all occurrences and
observations; for your friends here expect such a book of travels as
has not been often seen. You have given us good specimens in your
letters from Lisbon. I wish you had staid longer in Spain, for no
country is less known to the rest of Europe; but the quickness of
your discernment must make amends for the celerity of your mo¬
tions. He that knows which way to direct his view, sees much in a
little time.
"Write to me very often, and I will not neglect to write to you;
and I may, perhaps, in time, get something to write : at least, you
will know by my letters, whatever else they may have or want,
that I continue to be, your most affectionate friend,
" Sam. Johnson."
In 1762 he wrote for the Rev. Dr. Kennedy, rector of
Bradley in Derbyshire, in a strain of very courtly elegance, a
Dedication to the King* of that gentleman's work, entitled
" A complete System of Astronomical Chronology, unfolding
the Scriptures." He had certainly looked at this work before
it was printed ; for the concluding paragraph is undoubtedly
of his composition, of which let my readers judge :
" Thus have I endeavoured to free religion and history from the
darkness of a disputed and uncertain chronology; from difficulties
which have hitherto appeared insuperable, and darkness which no
luminary of learning has hitherto been able to dissipate. I have
established the truth of the Mosaical account, by evidence which no
transcription can corrupt, no negligence can lose, and no interest can
pervert. I have shewn that the universe bears witness to the inspira¬
tion of its historian, by the revolution of its orbs and the succession
of its seasons; that the stars in their courses fight against incredulity,
that the works of God give hourly confirmation to the latv, the pro-
300
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1762.
phets, and the gospel\ of which one day telleth another, and one night
certifieth another; and that the validity of the sacred writings never
can be denied, while the moon shall increase and wane, and the sun
shall know his going down."
He this year wrote also the Dedication *f to the Earl of Mid¬
dlesex of Mrs. Lenox's " Female Quixote," and the Preface to
the " Catalogue of the Artists' Exhibition." -}*
The following letter, which, on account of its intrinsic merit,
it would have been unjust both to Johnson and the public to
have withheld, was obtained for me by the solicitation of my
friend Mr. Seward :—
TO DR. STAUNTON (NOW SIR GEORGE STAUNTON,
BARONET).1
"June 1. 1762.
"Dear Sir,
" I make haste to answer your kind letter, in hope of hearing
again from you before you leave us. I cannot but regret that a man
of your qualifications should find it necessary to seek an establishment
in Guadaloupe, which if a peace should restore to the French, I shall
think it some alleviation of the loss, that it must restore likewise Dr.
Staunton to the English.
1 George Leonard Staunton was born in Galway, in Ireland, 1737, and
having adopted the profession of medicine, which he studied in France, he
came to London in 1760, where he wrote for the periodical publications of
the day, and formed an acquaintance with Dr. Johnson. In 1762 he went
to the West Indies, where he practised as a physician for a short time,
and by that and some civil offices, accumulated a competent fortune, which
he invested in estates in the island of Granada. He returned to England
in 1770; but, in 1772, again went to Granada, where he was appointed
attorney-general, and made the valuable acquaintance of Lord Macartney,
who became governor of that island in 1774. By the capture of Granada
by the French, in 1779, Lord Macartney lost his government, and Staun¬
ton his property. He returned to England with, it is supposed, little of
the wreck of his fortune. He, however, had acquired Lord Macartney's
friendship, and he accompanied his lordship to Madras in 1781 ; and for
his distinguished services during his official residence there had a pension
of ,£500 per annum settled on him, in 1784, by the East India Company,
and was created a baronet. When Lord Macartney was selected for the
celebrated embassy to China, Sir George was named to accompany him as
secretary and minister plenipotentiary. His splendid account of that em¬
bassy is well known. He died in London, January 14, 1801, and was
buried in Westminster Abbey.—Croker.
^T. 53.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
301
" It is a melancholy consideration, that so much of our time is
necessarily to be spent upon the care of living, and that we can
seldom obtain ease in one respect but by resigning it in another; yet
I suppose we are by this dispensation not less happy in the whole,
than if the spontaneous bounty of Nature poured all that we want
into our hands. A few, if they were left thus to themselves, would,
perhaps, spend their time in laudable pursuits; but the greater part
would prey upon the quiet of each other, or, in the want of other ob¬
jects, would prey upon themselves.
"This, however, is our condition, which we must improve and
solace as we can : and though we cannot choose always our place of
residence, we may in every place find rational amusements, and
possess in every place the comforts of piety and a pure conscience.
" In America there is little to be observed except natural curio¬
sities. The new world must have many vegetables and animals with
which philosophers are but little acquainted. I hope you will furnish
yourself with some books of natural history, and some glasses and
other instruments of observation. Trust as little as you can to
report; examine all you can by your own senses. I do not doubt but
you will be able to add much to knowledge, and, perhaps, to
medicine. Wild nations trust to simples; and, perhaps, the Peru¬
vian bark is not the only specific which those extensive regions
may afford us.
" Wherever you are, and whatever be your fortune, be certain, dear
Sir, that you carry with you my kind wishes; and that whether you
return hither, or stay in the other hemisphere, to hear that you are
happy will give pleasure to, Sir, your most affectionate humble ser¬
vant, "Sam. Johnson."
A lady having at this time solicited him to obtain the Arch¬
bishop of Canterbury's patronage to have her son sent to the
University,—one of those solicitations which are too frequent,
where people, anxious for a particular object, do not consider
propriety, or the opportunity which the persons whom they
solicit have to assist them,—he wrote to her the following
answer; with a copy of which I am favoured by the Rev. Dr.
Farmer,1 Master of Emanuel College, Cambridge.
1 Dr. Richard Farmer was born at Leicester, in 1735, and educated at
Emanuel College, Cambridge, of which he became Master in 1775. In
1766 he published his celebrated Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare:
a work by which, as Dr. Warton emphatically expresses it, an end is put
302
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1762.
TO MRS. .
" June 8. 1762.
" Madam,
" I hope you will believe that my delay in answering your
letter could proceed only from my unwillingness to destroy any hope
that you had formed. Hope is itself a species of happiness, and,
perhaps, the chief happiness which this world affords: but, like all
other pleasures immoderately enjoyed, the excesses of hope must be
expiated by pain; and expectations improperly indulged, must end
in disappointment. If it be asked, what is the improper expectation
which it is dangerous to indulge, experience will quickly answer, that
it is such expectation as is dictated, not by reason, but by desire;
expectation raised, not by the common occurrences of life, but by
the wants of the expectant; an expectation that requires the common
course of things to be changed, and the general rules of action to
be broken.
" When you made your request to me, you should have considered,
Madam, what you were asking. You ask me to solicit a great man,
to whom I never spoke, for a young person whom I had never seen,
upon a supposition which I had no means of knowing to be true.
There is no reason why, amongst all the great, I should choose to
supplicate the Archbishop, nor why, among all the possible objects
of his bounty, the Archbishop should choose your son. I know,
Madam, how unwillingly conviction is admitted, when interest op¬
poses it; but surely, Madam, you must allow, that there is no reason
why that should be done by me, which every other man may do with
equal reason, and which, indeed, no man can do properly, without
some very particular relation both to the Archbishop and to you. If
I could help you in this exigence by any proper means, it would give
me pleasure; but this proposal is so very remote from usual methods,
that I cannot comply with it, but at the risk of such answer and sus¬
picions as I believe you do not wish me to undergo.
" I have seen your son this morning; he seems a pretty youth, and
will, perhaps, find some better friend than I can procure him; but
though he should at last miss the university, he may still be wise,
useful, and happy. I am, Madam, your most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
for ever to the dispute concerning the Learning of Shakspeare. He died
Sept. 6, 1797.—Croker.
iET. 53.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
303
TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN.
" London, July 20. 1762.
" Sir,
" However justly you may accuse me for want of punctuality in
correspondence, I am not so far lost in negligence as to omit the op¬
portunity of writing to you, which Mr. Beauclerk's passage through
Milan affords me.
" I suppose you received the Idlers, and I intend that you shall
soon receive Shakspeare, that you may explain his works to the
ladies of Italy, and tell them the story of the editor, among the other
strange narratives with which your long residence in this unknown
region has supplied you.
" As you have now been long away, I suppose your curiosity may
pant for some news of your old friends. Miss Williams and I live
much as we did. Miss Cotterel still continues to cling to Mrs.
Porter, and Charlotte is now big of the fourth child,1 Mr. Reynolds
gets six thousands a year. Levett is lately married, not without much
suspicion that he has been wretchedly cheated in his match.2 Mr.
Chambers is gone this day, for the first time, the circuit with the
Judges. Mr. Richardson is dead of an apoplexy, and his second
daughter has married a merchant.
" My vanity, or my kindness, makes me flatter myself, that you
would rather hear of me than of those whom I have mentioned; but
of myself I have very little which I care to tell. Last winter I went
1 Mrs. Porter, the actress, lived some time with Mrs. Cotterel and her
eldest daughter. The younger Miss Cotterel (Charlotte), had married the
Rev. John Lewis, who became Dean of Ossory in 1755.—Croker.
2 " Levett married, when he was near sixty, a woman of the town, who
had persuaded him (notwithstanding their place of congress was a small
coal shed in Fetter Lane) that she was nearly related to a man of fortune,
but was kept by him out of large possessions. Johnson used to say, thaty
compared with the marvels of this transaction, the Arabian Nights seemed
familiar occurrences. Never was hero more completely duped. He had
not been married four months before a writ was taken out against him, for
debts contracted by his wife. He was secreted, and his friend then pro¬
cured him a protection from a foreign minister. In a short time after¬
wards she ran away from him, and was tried for picking pockets at the
Old Bailey. She pleaded her own cause, and was acquitted; a separation
took place : and Johnson then took Levett home, where he continued till
his death."—Stevens.—Croker.
304
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1762.
down to my native town, where I found the streets much narrower
and shorter than I thought I had left them, inhabited by a new race
of people, to whom I was very little known. My playfellows were
grown old, and forced me to suspect that I was no longer young. My
only remaining friend has changed his principles, and was become
the tool of the predominant faction. My daughter-in-law, from whom
I expected most, and whom I met with sincere benevolence, has lost
the beauty and gaiety of youth, without having gained much of the
wisdom of age. I wandered about for five days, and took the first
convenient opportunity of returning to a place, where, if there is not
much happiness, there is, at least, such a diversity of good and evil,
that slight vexations do not fix upon the heart.1
" I think in a few weeks to try another excursion; though to what
end ? Let me know, my Baretti, what has been the result of your
return to your own country: whether time has made any alteration
for the better, and whether, when the first raptures of salutation were
over, you did not find your thoughts confessed their disappointment.
" Moral sentences appear ostentatious and tumid, when they have
no greater occasions than the journey of a wit to his own town: yet
such pleasures and such pains make up the general mass of life; and
as nothing is little to him that feels it with great sensibility, a mind
able to see common incidentsJn their real state is disposed by very
common incidents to very serious contemplations. Let us trust that
a time will come, when the present moment shall be no longer irk¬
some ; when we shall not borrow all our happiness from hope, which
at last is to end in disappointment.
"I beg that you will shew Mr. Beau clerk all the civilities which you
have in your power; for he has always been kind to me.
" I have lately seen Mr. Stratico, Professor of Padua, who has
told me of your quarrel with an Abbot of the Celestine order;
but had not the particulars very ready in his memory. When you
write to Mr. Marsili, let him know that I remember him with kind¬
ness.
" May you, my Baretti, be very happy at Milan, or some other
place nearer to, Sir, your most affectionate humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
The accession of George the Third to the throne of these
1 This is a very just account of the relief which London affords to
melancholy minds.
JET. 53. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 305
kingdoms 1 opened a new and brighter prospect to men of
literary merit, who had been honoured with no mark of royal
favour 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 honour
to announce this instance of his Sovereign's bounty, concern¬
ing which, many and various stories, all equally erroneous,
have been propagated ; maliciously representing it as a political
bribe to Johnson, to desert his avowed principles, 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 Loughborough, was the
person who first mentioned this subject to him. Lord Lough¬
borough told me, that the pension was granted to Johnson
solely as the reward of his literary merit, without any stipula¬
tion whatever, or even tacit understanding 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
1 The Third Edition varies here considerably from either the First or
the Second. Neither of the important letters to Lord Bute are to be
found in the first; the second edition has that to Lord Bute, dated Nov.
3, 1762, which stands there between the letters to Baretti. The other
letter to Lord Bute with the date July 20, 1762, together with the para¬
graph which introduces it, is given for the first time in the third edition,
vol. i., p. 336, and the position of the letters and sequence of the paragraphs
are those of the text.—Editor.
X
30 6
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1762.
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 favour,
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
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 ap¬
plicable 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
any thing you are to do, but for what you have done."1 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 honour 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.
Mr. Murphy and the late Mr. Sheridan severally contended
for the distinction of having been the first who mentioned to
Mr. Wedderburne that Johnson ought to have a pension.
When I spoke of this to Lord Loughborough, wishing to know
if he recollected the prime mover in the business, he said, "All
his friends assisted:" and when I told him that Mr. Sheridan
strenuously asserted his claim to it, his Lordship said, "He
rang the bell." And it is but just to add, that Mr. Sheridan
1 This was said by Lord Bute, as Dr. Burney was informed by Johnson
himself, in answer to a question which he put, previously to his acceptance
of the intended bounty :—" Pray, my lord, what am I expected to do for
this pension?"—Malone.
^T. 53.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
307
told me, that when he communicated to Dr. Johnson that a
pension was to be granted him, he replied in a fervour of grati¬
tude, "The English language does not afford me terms adequate
to my feelings on this occasion. I must have recourse to the
French. I am penetre with his Majesty's goodness." When I
repeated this to Dr. Johnson, he did not contradict it.
His definitions of pension and pensioner, partly founded on
the satirical verses of Pope, which he quotes, may be generally
true ; and yet every body must allow, that there may be, and-
have been, instances of pensions given and received upon
liberal and honourable terms. Thus, then, it is clear, that there
was nothing inconsistent or humiliating in Johnson's accepting
of a pension so unconditionally and so honourably offered to
him.
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
favour of the Earl of Bute, to present them with what Johnson
himself wrote ; his Lordship having been pleased to communi¬
cate to me a copy of the following letter to his late father,
which does great honour both to the writer, and to the noble
person to whom it is addressed :—
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF BUTE.
" July 20, 1762.
" My Lord,
" When the bills were yesterday delivered to me by Mr.
Wedderburne, I was informed by him of the future favours 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 favours on a man who has neither alliance nor interest, who has
not merited them by services, nor courted them by officiousness;
you have spared him the shame of solicitation, and the anxiety of
suspense.
3°8
EOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1762.
" What has been thus elegantly given, will, I hope, not be reproach¬
fully enjoyed; I shall endeavour to give your Lordship the only
recompence which generosity desires,—the gratification of finding
that your benefits are not improperly bestowed. I am, my Lord, your
Lordship's most obliged, most obedient,, and most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson." 1
This year his friend, Sir Joshua Reynolds, paid a visit2 of
some weeks to his native county, Devonshire, in which he was
accompanied by Johnson, who was much pleased with this
jaunt, and declared he had derived from it a great accession of
new ideas. He was entertained at the seats of several noble¬
men and gentlemen in the west of England ;3 but the greatest
1 The addition of three hundred pounds a year, to what Johnson was
able to earn by the ordinary exercise of his talents, raised him to a state of
comparative affluence, and afforded him the means of assisting many whose
real or pretended wants had formerly excited his compassion. He now
'practised a rule which he often recommended to his friends, always to go
abroad with some loose money to give to beggars, imitating therein, though
certainly without intending it, that good but weak man, old Mr. Whiston,
whom I have seen distributing, in the streets, money to beggars on each
hand of him, till his pocket was nearly exhausted.—Hawkins, Life, p. 395.
He loved the poor as I never yet saw any one else do, with an earnest
desire to make them happy. What signifies, says some one, giving halfpence
to common beggars ? they only lay it out in gin or tobacco. " And why
(says Johnson) should they be denied such sweeteners of their existence?
it is surely very savage to refuse them every possible avenue to pleasure,
reckoned too coarse for our own acceptance. Life is a pill which none of
us can bear to swallow without gilding; yet for the poor we delight in
stripping it still barer, and are not ashamed to show even visible displea¬
sure, if ever the bitter taste is taken from their mouths." In consequence
of these principles he nursed whole nests of people in his house, where the
lame, the blind, the sick, and the sorrowful found a sure retreat from all
the evils whence his little income could secure them.—Piozzi, Anecdotes,
p. 84-5.
When visiting Lichfield, towards the latter part of his life, he was
accustomed, on his arrival, to deposit with Miss Porter as much cash
as would pay his expenses back to London. He could not trust himself
with his own money, as he felt himself unable to resist the importunity of
the numerous claimants on his benevolence.—Harwood.—Croker.
2 For an account of this visit, see Leslie and Taylor's Life of Reynolds,
vol. i., p. 214-7.—Editor.
3 At one of these seats Dr. Amyat, physician in London, told me he
^T. 53.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
309
part of this time was passed at Plymouth, where the magnifi¬
cence of the navy, the ship-building and all its circumstances,
afforded him a grand subject of contemplation. The Commis¬
sioner of the Dock-yard [Captain Francis Rogers] paid him the
compliment of ordering the yacht to convey him and his friend
to the Eddystone, to which they accordingly sailed. But the
weather was so tempestuous that they could not land.
Reynolds and he were at this time the guests of Dr. Mudge,
the celebrated surgeon, and now physician, of that place, not
more distinguished for quickness of parts and variety of know¬
ledge, than loved and esteemed for his amiable manners ;1 and
here Johnson formed an acquaintance with Dr. Mudge's father,
that very eminent divine, the Rev. Zachariah Mudge, Preben¬
dary of Exeter, who was idolised in the west, both for his ex¬
cellence as a preacher and the uniform perfect propriety of his
private conduct. He preached a sermon purposely that John¬
son might hear him ; and we shall see afterwards that Johnson
honoured his memory by drawing his character.2 While John¬
son was at Plymouth, he saw a great many of its inhabitants^
and was not sparing of his very entertaining conversation. It
was here that he made that frank and truly original confession,
that " ignorance, pure ignorance," was the cause of a wrong
happened to meet him. In order to amuse him till dinner should be ready,
he was taken out to walk in the garden. The master of the house, thinking
it proper to introduce something scientific into the conversation, addressed
him thus: "Are you a botanist, Dr. Johnson?" "No, Sir, (answered
Johnson) I am not a botanist; and, (alluding, no doubt, to his near¬
sightedness,) should I wish to become a botanist, I must first turn myself
into a reptile."
1 Dr. John Mudge died in 1791. He was the father of Colonel William
Mudge, distinguished by his trigonometrical survey of England and Wales,
carried on by order of the Ordnance.— Wright.
2 Thomas Mudge, the celebrated watchmaker in Fleet Street, who made
considerable improvements in timekeepers, and wrote several pamphlets
on that subject, was another son of Mr. Zachariah Mudge. He died in
1794.—Croker.
One of Reynolds's best portraits is a head of Zachariah Mudge, and one
of Chantrey's best busts a translation of it into marble; part of a monu¬
ment to Mudge's memory, erected in the church of St. Andrew's, Ply¬
mouth .—P. C'unningham.
3io
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1762.
definition in his " Dictionary " of the word pastern, to the no
small surprise of the lady who put the question to him; who,
having the most profound reverence for his character, so as
almost to suppose him endowed with infallibility, expected to
hear an explanation (of what, to be sure, seemed strange to a
common reader,) drawn from some deep-learned source with
which she was unacquainted.
Sir Joshua Reynolds, to whom I was obliged for my infor¬
mation concerning this excursion, mentions a very characteris-
tical anecdote of Johnson while at Plymouth. Having observed,
that in consequence of the Dock-yard a new town had arisen
about two miles off as a rival to the old ; and knowing from
his sagacity, and just observation of human nature, that it is
certain, if a man hates at all, he will hate his next neighbour ;
he concluded that this new and rising town could not but excite
the envy and jealousy of the old, in which conjecture he was
very soon confirmed ; he therefore set himself resolutely on the
side of the old town, the established town, in which his lot was
cast, considering it as a kind of duty to stand by it. He
accordingly entered warmly into its interests, and upon every
occasion talked of the Dockers, as the inhabitants of the new
town were called, as upstarts and aliens. Plymouth is very
plentifully supplied with water by a river brought into it from
a great distance, which is so abundant that it runs to waste in
the town. The Dock, or New Town, being totally destitute
of water, petitioned Plymouth that a small portion of the con¬
duit might be permitted to go to them, and this was now under
consideration. Johnson, affecting to entertain the passions of
the place, was violent in opposition ; and half laughing at him¬
self for his pretended zeal, where he had no concern, exclaimed,
" No, no ! I am against the Dockers ; I am a Plymouth-man.
Rogues ! let them die of thirst. They shall not have a
drop !"
Lord Macartney obligingly favoured me with a copy of the
following letter, in his own handwriting, from the original,
which was found, by the present Earl of Bute, among his father's
papers.
^T. 53.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
311
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF BUTE.
" Temple Lane, Nov. 3, 1762.
" My Lord,
"That generosity, by which I was recommended to the favour
of his Majesty, will not be offended at a solicitation necessary to make
that favour permanent and effectual.
" The pension appointed to be paid me at Michaelmas I have not
received, and know not where or from whom I am to ask it. I beg,
therefore, that your Lordship will be pleased to supply Mr. Wedder-
burne with such directions as may be necessary, which, I believe, his
friendship will make him think it no trouble to convey to me.
"To interrupt your Lordship, at a time like this, with such petty
difficulties, is improper and unseasonable; but your knowledge of the
world has long since taught you, that every man's affairs, however
little, are important to himself. Every man hopes that he shall escape
neglect; and with reason may every man, whose vices do not preclude
his claim, expect favour from that beneficence which has been ex¬
tended to, my Lord, your Lordship's most obliged and most humble
servant, " Sam. Johnson."
TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN.
"London, Dec. 21, 1762.
" Sir,
"You are not to suppose, with all your conviction of my idle¬
ness, that I have passed all this time without writing to my Baretti.
I gave a letter to Mr. Beauclerk, who in my opinion, and in his own,
was hastening to Naples for the recovery of his health; but he has
stopped at Paris, and I know not when he will proceed. Langton is
with him.
" I will not trouble you with speculations about peace and war.
The good or ill success of battles and embassies extends itself to a
very small part of domestic life : we all have good and evil, which we
feel more sensibly than our petty part of public miscarriage or pros¬
perity. I am sorry for your disappointment, with which you seem
more touched than I should expect a man of your resolution and ex¬
perience to have been, did I not know that general truths are seldom
applied to particular occasions; and that the fallacy of our self-love
extends itself as wide as our interest or affections. Every man be-
312
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1762.
lieves that mistresses are unfaithful, and patrons capricious; but he
excepts his own mistress, and his own patron. We have all learned
that greatness is negligent and contemptuous, and that in courts life
is often languished away in ungratified expectation; but he that ap¬
proaches greatness, or glitters in a court, imagines that destiny has at
last exempted him from the common lot.
" Do not let such evils overwhelm you as thousands have suffered,
and thousands have surmounted; but turn your thoughts with vigour
to some other plan of life, and keep always in your mind, that, with
due submission to Providence, a man of genius has been seldom
ruined but by himself. Your patron's weakness or insensibility will
finally do you little hurt, if he is not assisted by your own passions.
Of your love I know not the propriety, nor can estimate the power;
but in love, as in every other passion of which hope is the essence,
we ought always to remember the uncertainty of events. There is,
indeed, nothing that so much seduces reason from vigilance, as the
thought of passing life with an amiable woman; and if all would
happen that a lover fancies, I know not what other terrestrial happi¬
ness would deserve pursuit. But love and marriage are different
states. Those who are to suffer the evils together, and to suffer
often for the sake of one another, soon lose that tenderness of look,
and that benevolence of mind, which arose from the participation of
unmingled pleasure and successive amusement. A woman, we are
sure, will not be always fair; we are not sure she will always be
virtuous : and man cannot retain through life that respect and assi¬
duity by which he pleases for a day or for a month. I do not, how¬
ever, pretend to have discovered that life has any thing more to be
desired than a prudent and virtuous marriage; therefore know not
what counsel to give you.
" If you can quit your imagination of love and greatness, and leave
your hopes of preferment and bridal raptures to try once more the
fortune of literature and industry, the way through France is now
open. We flatter ourselves that we shall cultivate, with great dili¬
gence, the arts of peace; and every man will be welcome among us
who can teach us any thing we do not know. For your part, you
will find all your old friends willing to receive you.
" Reynolds still continues to increase in reputation and in riches.
Miss Williams, who very much loves you, goes on in the old way.
Miss Cotterel is still with Mrs. Porter. Miss Charlotte is married to
Dean Lewis, and has three children. Mr. Levett has married a
street-walker. But the gazette of my narration must now arrive to
JET. 53.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
313
tell you, that Bathurst went physician to the army, and died at the
Havannah.
" I know not whether I have not sent you word that Huggins and
Richardson are both dead. When we see our enemies and friends
gliding away before us, let us not forget that we are subject to the
general law of mortality, and shall soon be where our doom will be
fixed for ever. I pray God to bless you, and am, Sir, your most
affectionate humble servant, " Sam. Johnson.
" Write soon."
In 1763 he furnished to "The Poetical Calendar," published
by Fawkes and Woty, a character of Collins,* which he after¬
wards ingrafted into his entire " Life" of that admirable poet,
in the collection of " Lives " which he wrote for the body of
English poetry, formed and published by the booksellers of
London. His account of the melancholy depression with
which Collins was severely afflicted, and which brought him to
his grave, is, I think, one of the most tender and interesting
passages in the whole series of his writings. He also favoured
Mr. Hoole with the Dedication of his translation of Tasso to
the Queen,* which is so happily conceived and elegantly ex¬
pressed, that I cannot but point it' out to the peculiar notice of
my readers.1
1 "TO THE QUEEN.
" Madam,—To approach the high and illustrious has been in all ages
the privilege of poets ; and though translators cannot justly claim the
same honour, yet they naturally follow their authors as attendants ; and I
hope that in return for having enabled Tasso to diffuse his fame through
the British dominions, I may be introduced by him to the presence of
your Majesty.
" Tasso has a peculiar claim to your Majesty's favour, as follower and
panegyrist of the house of Este, which has one common ancestor with the
house of Hanover ; and in reviewing his life, it is not easy to forbear a
wish that he had lived in a happier time, when he might, among the de¬
scendants of that illustrious family, have found a more liberal and potent
patronage.
" I cannot but observe, Madam, how unequally reward is proportioned
to merit, when I reflect that the happiness which was withheld from Tasso
is reserved for me; and that the poem which once hardly procured to its
author the countenance of the princes of Ferrara, has attracted to its
translator the favourable notice of a British queen.
3H
boswell's life of johnson.
1763.
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 several
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 my¬
self a state of solemn elevated abstraction, in which I supposed
him to live in the immense metropolis of London. Mr. Gentle¬
man, 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 called j1 and during
my first visit to London, which was for three months in 1760,
Mr. Derrick the poet, who was Gentleman's friend and coun¬
tryman, flattered me with hopes that he would introduce me
to Johnson,—an honour of which I 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 expatiate upon
" Had this been the fate of Tasso,he would have been able to have cele¬
brated the condescension of your Majesty in nobler language, but could
not have felt it with more ardent gratitude, than, Madam, your Majesty's
most faithful and devoted servant, John Hoole."
1 As great men of antiquity, such as Scipio Africanus, had an epithet
added to their names, in consequence of some celebrated action, so my
illustrious friend was often called Dictionary Johnson, from that won¬
derful achievement of genius and labour, his Dictionary of the English
Language ; the merit of which I contemplate with more and more admi¬
ration.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
315
J ohnson's extraordinary knowledge, talents, and virtues, repeat
his pointed sayings, describe his particularities, 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 sur¬
prise and regret I found an irreconcileable difference had taken
place between Johnson and Sheridan. A pension of two hun¬
dred 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, ex¬
claimed, " What! have they given him a pension ? 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 rewarded in the same manner
with him, or was the sudden effect of a fit of peevishness, it was
unluckily said, and, indeed, 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 1753.1 And
1 Unluckily Boswell, in his tenderness to the amour ftropre of Dr.
Johnson, cannot bear to admit that Sheridan's literary character had any¬
thing to do with the pension, and no doubt he endeavoured to soften John¬
son's resentment by giving, as he does in the above passage, this favour a
political colour ; but there seems no reason to believe that Sheridan's pen¬
sion was given to him as a sufferer by a playhouse riot. It was probably
granted (et hinc illce lacrymce) on the same motive as Johnson's own,
namely, the desire of the King and Lord Bute to distinguish the commence¬
ment of the new reign by the patronage of literature. Indeed, this is
rendered almost certain by various passages of the letters of Mrs. Sheri¬
dan to Mr. Whyte: e.g. "London, Nov. 29, 1762.—Mr. Sheridan is now,
as I mentioned to you formerly, busied in the English Dictionary, which
he is encouraged to pursue with the more alacrity as his Majesty has
vouchsafed him such a mark of royal favour. I suppose you have heard
that he has granted him a pension of £200 a year, merely as an encourage¬
ment to his undertaking, and this without solicitation, which makes it the
more valuable."—Whyte's Miscellanea Nova, p. 104, 107, in. Mr. Samuel
Whyte, the writer of this volume, was a celebrated schoolmaster in Dub¬
lin, a relation of and much attached to the Sheridan family. Richard
Brinsley Sheridan and his elder brother Charles, were placed very early
316 boswell's life of johnson. 1763.
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.
Besides, Johnson should have recollected that Mr. Sheridan
taught pronunciation to Mr. Alexander Wedderburne, whose
sister was married to Sir Harry Erskine, an intimate friend of
Lord Bute, who was the favourite of the king; and surely the
most outrageous Whig will not maintain, that, whatever ought
to be the principle in the disposal of offices, a pension ought
never to be granted from any bias of court connection. Mr.
Macklin, indeed, shared with Mr. Sheridan the honour of in¬
structing Mr. Wedderburne; and though it was too late in life
for a Caledonian to acquire the genuine English cadence, yet
so successful were Mr. Wedderburne's instructors, and his own
unabating endeavours, that he got rid of the coarse part of his
Scotch accent, retaining only as much of the " native wood-note
wild," as to mark his country ; which, if any Scotchman should
affect to forget, I should heartily despise him. Notwithstand¬
ing the difficulties which are to be encountered by those who
have not had the advantage of an English education, he by
degrees formed a mode of speaking, to which Englishmen do
not deny the praise of elegance. Hence his distinguished
oratory, which he exerted in his own country as an advocate
in the Court of Session, and a ruling elder of the Kirk, has had
its fame and ample reward, in much higher spheres. When I
look back on this noble person at Edinburgh in situations so
unworthy of his brilliant powers, and behold LORD LOUGH¬
BOROUGH, at London, the change seems almost like one of the
metamorphoses in Ovid ; and as his two preceptors, by re¬
fining his utterance, gave currency to his talents, we may say,
in the words of that poet, " Nam vos mutastis
under his tuition, as was, at an interval of above thirty years, my friend
Thomas Moore, who, in his Life of Sheridan, pays an affectionate tribute
to their common preceptor.—Croker.
If His Majesty and Lord Bute intended to patronize literature by grant¬
ing a pension to Mr. Thomas Sheridan, in the same sense in which they
pensioned Johnson, we can hardly conceive a more transcendent piece of
burlesque.—Editor.
JET. 54. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 3 17
I have dwelt the longer upon this remarkable instance of
successful parts and assiduity, because it affords animating
encouragement to other gentlemen of North Britain to try their
fortunes in the southern part of the island, where they may
hope to gratify their utmost ambition; and now that we are
one people by the Union, it would surely be illiberal to main¬
tain, that they have not an equal title with the natives of any
other part of his Majesty's dominions.
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 good
man." Sheridan could never forgive this hasty contemptuous
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 writh-
ings of his resentment to depreciate Johnson, by characterising
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 evenings ;
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
3 18 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1763.
was sensible, ingenious, unassuming, yet communicative. 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 incul¬
cates a future state of retribution ;1 and what it teaches is im¬
pressed upon the mind by a series of as deep distress as can
affect humanity, in the amiable and pious heroine, who goes to
her grave unrelieved, but resigned, and full of hope of " hea¬
ven's mercy." Johnson paid her this high compliment upon
1 My position has been very well illustrated by Mr. Belsham, of Bed¬
ford, in his Essay on Dramatic Poetry:
" The fashionable doctrine (says he) both of moralists and critics in these
times is, that virtue and happiness are constant concomitants ; and it is
regarded as a kind of dramatic impiety to maintain that virtue should not
be rewarded, nor vice punished, in the last scene of the last act of every
tragedy. This conduct in our modern poets is, however, in my opinion,
extremely injudicious ; for it labours in vain to inculcate a doctrine in
theory, which every one knows to be false in fact, viz., that virtue in real
life is always productive of happiness ; and vice of misery. Thus Con-
greve concludes the tragedy of The Mourning Bride with the following
foolish couplet:
'For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds,
And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds.'
"When a man eminently virtuous, a Brutus, a Cato, or a Socrates,
finally sinks under the pressure of accumulated misfortune, we are not
only led to entertain a more indignant hatred of vice, than if he rose from
his distress, but we are inevitably induced to cherish the sublime idea that
a day of future retribution will arrive, when he shall receive not merely
poetical, but real and substantial justice."—Essays Philosophical, Histori¬
cal, and Literary, London, 1791, 8vo., vol. ii., p. 317.
This is well reasoned and well expressed. I wish, indeed, that the in¬
genious author had not thought it necessary to introduce any instance of
" a man eminently virtuous as he would then have avoided mentioning
such a ruffian as Brutus under that description. Mr. Belsham discovers
in his Essays so much reading and thinking, and good composition, that
I regret his not having been fortunate enough to be educated a member of
our excellent national establishment. Had he not been nursed in noncon¬
formity, he probably would not have been tainted with those heresies (as I
sincerely, and on no slight investigation, think them) both in religion and
politics, which, while I read, I am sure, with candour, I cannot read with¬
out offence.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
319
it: "I know not, Madam, that you have a right, upon moral
principles, to make your readers suffer so much."
Mr. Thomas Davies the actor, who then kept a bookseller's
shop in Russell Street, Covent Garden,1 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 coming 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 cha¬
racter; 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 extraordinary man whose works I
highly valued, and whose conversation was reported to be so
peculiarly excellent.
At last, on Monday, the 16th of May, when I was sitting in
Mr. Davies's back parlour, after having drunk tea with him and
Mrs. Davies, Johnson unexpectedly came into the shop ;2 and
1 No. 8.—The very place where I was fortunate enough to be introduced
to the illustrious subject of this work, deserves to be particularly marked.
I never pass by it without feeling reverence and regret.—[Note added in
the third edition.—Editor.]
2 Mr. Murphy, in his Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson,
p. 106, has given an account of this meeting considerably different from
mine, I am persuaded without any consciousness of error. His memory,
at the end of near thirty years, has undoubtedly deceived him, and he sup¬
poses himself to have been present at a scene which he has probably heard
inaccurately described by others. In my note taken on the very day, in
which I am confident I marked every thing material that passed, no men¬
tion is made of this gentleman; and I am sure that I should not have
omitted one so well known in the literary world. It may easily be ima¬
gined that this my first interview with Dr. Johnson, with all its circum-
320
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
Mr. Davies having perceived him, through the glass-door in the
room in which we were sitting, advancing towards us, he an¬
nounced 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 published his " Dictionary," in 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.1 Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and
respectfully introduced me to him. I was much agitated ; and
recollecting his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had
heard much, I said to Davies, " Don't tell where I come from."
—"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 plea¬
santry to soothe and conciliate him, and not as an humiliating
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 apprehensive 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 ven-
stances, made a strong impression on my mind, and would be registered
with peculiar attention.
1 Prefixed to the first and subsequent editions published by Boswell and
M alone.—E ditor.
J2E RIDKKTC E OF THOMAS ."DJlVTE S IKUSSELIJ STREET. COVENT GARDEN.
iET. 54. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 321
tured to say, " O 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 ani¬
madversion upon his old acquaintance and pupil.1 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- ardour been uncommonly strong,
and my resolution uncommonly persevering, so rough a recep¬
tion might have deterred me for ever from making any further
attempts. Fortunately, however, I remained 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.
" People," he remarked, " may be taken in once, who imagine
that an author is greater in private life than other men. Uncom¬
mon parts require uncommon opportunities for their exertion."
" In barbarous society, superiority of parts is of real conse¬
quence. Great strength or great wisdom is of much value to
an individual. But in more polished times there are people to
do every thing 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 intellectual superiority. This
is wisely ordered by Providence, to preserve some equality
among mankind."
" Sir, this book (' The Elements of Criticism ;'2 which he had
1 That this was a momentary sally against Garrick there can be no
doubt; for at J ohnson's desire he had, some years before, given a benefit-
night at his theatre to this very person, by which she had got two hundred
pounds. Johnson, indeed, upon all other occasions, when I was in his com¬
pany, 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." Johnson (smiling): "Why, Sir, that is true."
2 By Henry Home, Lord Kames; published in 1762.—Croker.
Y
322
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
taken up) is a pretty essay, and deserves to be held in some
estimation, though much of it is chimerical."
Speaking of one1 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, L 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 tcedium vitce.- 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. Ridi¬
cule has gone down before him, and, I doubt, Derrick is his
enemy."2
" 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 afterwards,
when I reminded him of this sarcasm, he said, " Well, but Der¬
rick has now got a character that he need not run away from."
I was highly pleased with the extraordinary vigour of his
conversation, and regretted that I was drawn away from it by
an engagement at another place. I had, for a part of the even¬
ing, 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."
1 Mr. Wilkes, no doubt. Boswell was a friend and, personally, an ad¬
mirer of Wilkes, and therefore very properly (Wilkes being still alive) sup¬
pressed the name.—Croker.
2 Mr. Sheridan was then reading lectures upon Oratory at Bath, where
Derrick was Master of the Ceremonies ; or, as the phrase is, King.
MT. 54-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
323
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 compliment. So upon
Tuesday the 24th of May, after having been enlivened by the
witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton,1 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. I,
Inner Temple Lane, and I entered, them with an impression
given me by the Rev. Dr. Blair of Edinburgh, who had been
introduced to me 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 him¬
self. Dr. Blair had been presented to him by Dr. James For-
dyce.2 At this time the controversy concerning the pieces pub¬
lished 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, main¬
tained that they had no merit. The subject having been in¬
troduced 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 children." Johnson, at this time, did not know that
Dr. Blair had just published a " Dissertation," not only defend¬
ing their authenticity, but seriously ranking them with the
poems of Homer and Virgil ; and when he was afterwards in¬
formed of 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 concealed be¬
hind the door."
1 Boswell had a passion for getting acquainted with all the notorieties of
the day, and these were then reigning wits.—Croker.
2 Dr. James Fordyce, author of Sermons to Young Women, &c., was
born at Aberdeen in 1720, and died at Bath in 1796.— Wright.
324
boswell's life of johnson.
1763.
He received me very courteously; but it must be confessed,
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 forgotten 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 unnecessary
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 speaking, 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 under¬
standing is not called in question."
Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher Smart, who
was confined in a madhouse,1 he had, at another time, the fol¬
lowing 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 ;
1 It has been wondered why Johnson, who obtained a place in the edition
of British Poets for Yalden, Pomfret, Watts, and Blackmore, did not do as
much for his friend Smart, a better poet than any of them, and not less
pious. Perhaps he was deterred by the irregularity of poor Smart's mind
and life, in connection with which he probably thought that his pious
poems would rather scandalize than edify : or there may have been some
difficulty about the copyright of his poems, as there was, we know, about
those of Goldsmith. Smart's are to be found, with a Life, in Andersons
Poets. Smart died in 1770, set. 70.—Croker.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
325
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 the garden.
Indeed, before his confinement, he used for exercise to walk to
the ale-house ; but he was carried back again. I did not think
he ought to be shut up. His infirmities 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 in¬
tellectual labour; 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, in¬
deed, appears in some degree strange to reason ; but in History
we have undoubted facts, against which, in reasoning 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 unsettled, 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 after¬
noon, 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
326
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
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.
Before we parted, he was so good as to promise to favour
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 entertainment 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 13th, 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 per¬
formances show the extent of the human powers in one in¬
stance, and thus tend to raise our opinion of the faculties of
man. He shows what may be attained by persevering appli¬
cation ; 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."1
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."
I had learnt that his place of frequent resort was the Mitre
1 " In the year 1762 one Johnson, an Irishman, exhibited many feats of
activity in horsemanship, and was, it is believed, the first performer, at that
time, in or about London. He was an active, clever fellow in his way."
Prior's Life of Burke, vol. i., p. 124.—Croker.
^ET. 54.
boswell's life of johnson.
327
Tavern in Fleet Street, where he loved to sit up late, and I
begged I might be allowed to pass an evening with him there
soon, which he promised I should. A few days afterwards I
met him near Temple Bar, about one o'clock in the morning,
and asked if he would then go to the Mitre. " Sir," said
he, "it is too late ; they won't let us in. But I'll go with you
another night with all my heart."
A revolution of some importance in my plan of life had just
taken place ; for instead of procuring a commission in the foot-
guards, which was my own inclination, I had, in compliance
with my father's wishes, agreed to study the law, and was soon
to set out for Utrecht, to hear the lectures of an excellent
civilian in that University, and then to proceed on my travels.
Though very desirous of obtaining Dr. Johnson's advice and
instructions on the mode of pursuing my studies, I was at this
time so occupied, shall I call it ? or so dissipated, by the
.amusements of London, that our next meeting was not till
Saturday, June 25th, when, happening to dine at Clifton's eating
house, in Butcher Row,1 I was surprised to perceive Johnson
come in and take his seat at another table. The mode of
dining, or rather being fed, at such houses in London, is well
known to many to be particularly unsocial, as there is no ordi¬
nary, or united company, but each person has his own mess,
and is under no obligation to hold any intercourse with any
one. A liberal and full-minded man, however, who loves to
talk, will break through this churlish and unsocial restraint.
Johnson and an Irish gentleman got into a dispute concerning
the cause of some part of mankind being black. " Why, Sir,"
said Johnson, " it has been accounted for in three ways : either
by supposing that they are the posterity of Ham, who was
cursed; or that God at first created two kinds of men, one
black and another white ; or that by the heat of the sun
the skin is scorched, and so acquires a sooty hue. This matter
1 A row of tenements in the Strand, between Wych Street and Temple
Bar, and " so called from the butchers' shambles on the south side."
(Strype, B. iv., p. 118.) Butcher Row was pulled down in 1813, and the
present Pickett Street erected in its stead.- P. Cunningham.
328
boswell's life of johnson.
1763.
has been much canvassed among naturalists, but has never
been brought to any certain issue." What the Irishman said
is totally obliterated from my mind ; but I remember that he
became very warm and intemperate in his expressions : upon
which Johnson rose, and quietly walked away. When he had
retired, his antagonist took his revenge, as he thought, by say¬
ing, " He has a most ungainly figure, and an affectation of
pomposity, unworthy of a man of genius."
Johnson had not observed that I was in the room. I fol¬
lowed 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 some¬
times drank a bottle. The orthodox high-church sound of the
Mitre,—the figure and manner of the celebrated Samuel
Johnson,—the extraordinary power and precision of his con¬
versation, 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 ex¬
perienced. 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 showing how habitual to his
mind were some opinions which appear in his works.
" Colley Cibber,1 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 birth-day 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
1 Colley Cibber was born in 1671, bore arms in favour of the revolution,
and soon after went on the stage as an actor. In 1695 he appeared as a
writer of comedies with great and deserved success. He quitted the stage
in 1730, on being appointed poet laureate, and died in 1757. His Me¬
moirs of his own Life, under the modest title of an Apology, is not only
a very amusing collection of theatrical anecdotes, but shows considerable
power of observation and delineation of character.—Croker.
ALT, 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
329
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 obscu¬
rity in which he has involved himself will not persuade us that
he is sublime. His Elegy in a Churchyard has a happy selec¬
tion of images, but I don't like what are called his great things.
His ode which begins—
' Ruin seize thee, ruthless King,
Confusion on thy banners wait!'
has been celebrated for its abruptness, and plunging into the
subject all at once. But such arts as these have no merit, un¬
less when they are original. We admire them only once; and
this abruptness has nothing new in it. We have had it often
before. Nay, we have it in the old song of Johnny Arm¬
strong :—
' Is there ever a man in all Scotland,
From the highest estate to the lowest degree,' &c.
And then, Sir,
'Yes, there is a man in Westmorland,
And Johnny Armstrong they do him call.'
There, now, you plunge at once into the subject. You have no
330 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1763.
previous narration to lead you to it. The two next lines in
that Ode are, I think, very good :—
' Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing,
They mock the air with idle state.' "1
Here let it be observed, that although his opinion of Gray's
poetry was widely different from mine, and, I believe, from that
of most men of taste, by whom it is with justice highly ad¬
mired, there is certainly much absurdity in the clamour which
has been raised, as if he had been culpably injurious to the
merit of that bard, and had been actuated by envy. Alas ! ye
little short-sighted critics, could Johnson be envious of the
talents of any of his contemporaries ? That his opinion on
this subject was what in private and in public he uniformly
expressed, regardless of what others might think, we may
wonder, and perhaps regret; but it is shallow and unjust to
charge him with expressing what he did not think.
Finding him in a placid humour, and wishing to avail my¬
self of the opportunity which I fortunately had of consulting a
sage, to hear whose wisdom, I conceived, in the ardour of
youthful imagination, that men filled with a noble enthusiasm
for intellectual improvement would gladly have resorted from
distant lands, I opened my mind to him ingenuously, and gave
him a little sketch of my life, to which he was pleased to listen
with great attention.
I acknowledged, that though educated very strictly in the
principles of religion, I had for some time been misled into a
certain degree of infidelity ; but that I was come now to a better
way of thinking, and was fully satisfied of the truth of the
Christian revelation, though I was not clear as to every point
considered to be orthodox. Being at all times a curious ex¬
aminer of the human mind, and pleased with an undisguised
1 My friend, Mr. Malone, in his valuable comments on Shakespeare,
has traced in that great poet disjecta membra of these lines.—Boswell.
A piece of unnecessary trouble. Gray had already pointed out his obliga¬
tion to Shakespeare's King John, in his notes to the poem.— P. Cunning¬
ham.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
331
display of what had passed in it, he called to me with warmth,
" Give me your hand ; I have taken a liking to you." He
then began to descant upon the force of testimony, and the
little we could know of final causes; so that the objections of,
Why was it so ? or, Why was it not so ? ought not to disturb us :
adding, that he himself had at one period been guilty of a tem¬
porary neglect of religion ; but that it was not the result of
argument, but mere absence of thought.
After having given credit to reports of his bigotry, I was
agreeably surprised when he expressed the following very
liberal sentiment, which has the additional value of obviating
an objection to our holy religion, founded upon the discordant
tenets of Christians themselves :—" For my part, Sir, I think
all Christians, whether Papists or Protestants, agree in the
essential articles, and that their differences are trivial, and
rather political than religious."
We talked of belief in ghosts. He said, " Sir, I make a dis¬
tinction between what a man may experience by the mere
strength of his imagination, and what imagination cannot pos¬
sibly produce. Thus, suppose I should think that I saw a form,
and heard a voice cry, ' Johnson, you are a very wicked fel¬
low, and unless you repent you will certainly be punished :'
myown unworthiness is so deeply impressed upon mymind,that
I might imagine I thus saw and heard, and therefore I should
not believe that an external communication 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 unquestionably 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 igno-
rantly misrepresented as weakly credulous upon that subject;
332
bos well's life of johnson.
1763.
and therefore, though I feel an inclination to disdain, and treat
with silent contempt, so foolish a notion concerning my illus¬
trious 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 authen¬
tically 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 believers 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
an impression that Johnson was thus foolishly deceived. It
will therefore surprise them a good deal when they are in¬
formed upon undoubted authority, that Johnson was one of
those by whom the imposture was detected.1 The story had
become so popular, that he thought it should be investigated ;
and in this research he was assisted by the Rev. 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.2
1 No rational man doubted that inquiry would lead to detection ; men
only wondered, and do still wonder, that Dr. Johnson should so far give
countenance to this flimsy imposition as to think a solemn inquiry neces¬
sary.—Croker.
2 The account was as follows :—" On the night of the 1st of February,
many gentlemen, eminent for their rank and character, were, by the invita¬
tion of the Rev. Mr. Aldrich, of Clerkenwell, assembled at his house, for
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
333
Our conversation proceeded. " Sir," said he, " I am a
friend to subordination, as most conducive to the happiness
of society. There is a reciprocal pleasure in governing and
being governed."
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 gentle¬
men 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 down stairs,
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 exis¬
tence or veracity of the supposed spirit.—While they were inquiring and de¬
liberating, 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 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 evidence 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 promise 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 particular noise, and
that there is no agency of any higher cause."
Hawkins tells us (Life, pp. 437-440) that " Mr. Saunders Welch, John¬
son's intimate friend, would have dissuaded him from his purpose of visit¬
ing the place, urging that it would expose him to ridicule ; but all his
arguments had no effect. What Mr. Welch foretold was verified ; he was
censured for his credulity, his wisdom was arraigned, and his religious
opinions resolved into superstition Nor was this all: that face¬
tious gentleman, Foote, who had assumed the name of the modern Aris¬
tophanes, and at his theatre had long entertained the town with caricatures
334
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
" Dr. Goldsmith is one of the first men we now have as an
author, and he is a very worthy man too. He has been loose
in his principles, but he is coming right."
I mentioned Mallet's tragedy of " Elvira," which had been
acted the preceding winter at Drury Lane, and that the Hon.
Andrew Erskine,1 Mr. Dempster,2 and myself, had joined in
writing a pamphlet, entitled " Critical Strictures," against it;3
that the mildness of Dempster's disposition had, however, re¬
lented ; 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 ! " JOHNSON. " 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."
When I talked to him of the paternal estate to which I was
heir, he said, " Sir, let me tell you, that to be a Scotch land-
of living persons, thought that at this time a drama, in which himself
should represent Johnson, and in his mien, his garb, and his speech,
should display all his comic powers, would yield him a golden harvest.
Johnson was apprised of his intention; and gave Mr. Foote to understand,
that the licence under which he was permitted to entertain the town would
not justify the liberties he was accustomed to take with private characters,
and that if he persisted in his design, he would, by a severe chastisement
of his representative on the stage, and in the face of the whole audience,
convince the world, that, whatever were his infirmities, or even his foibles,
they should not be made the sport of the public, or the means of gain to
any one of his profession. Foote, upon this intimation, had discretion
enough to desist from his purpose. Johnson entertained no resentment
against him, and they were ever after friends."—Croker.
1 Third son of the fifth Earl of Kellie, born in 1739, died 1793. He pub¬
lished in 1763 some letters and poems addressed to Mr. Boswell.—Croker.
2 George Dempster, of Dunnichen, secretary to the Order of the Thistle,
and long M.P. for the Fife district of boroughs. He was a man of talents
and very agreeable manners. Burns mentions him more than once with
eulogy. Mr. Dempster retired from Parliament in 1790, and died in 1818,
in his 86th year.—Croker.
3 The Critical Review, in which Mallet himself sometimes wrote, cha¬
racterized this pamphlet as " the crude efforts of envy, petulance, and
self-conceit." There being thus three epithets, we, the three authors, had
a humorous contention how each should be appropriated."
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
335
lord, where you have a number of families dependent upon
you, and attached to you, is, perhaps, as high a situation as
humanity can arrive at. A merchant upon the 'Change of
London, with a hundred thousand pounds, is nothing; an
English Duke, with an immense fortune, is nothing : he has
no tenants who consider themselves as under his patriarchal
care, and who will follow him to the field upon an emer¬
gency."
His notion of the dignity of a Scotch landlord had been
formed upon what he had heard of the Highland chiefs ; for it
is long since a Lowland landlord has been so curtailed in his
feudal authority, that he has little more influence over his
tenants than an English landlord ; and of late years most of
the Highland chiefs have destroyed, by means too well known,
the princely power which they once enjoyed.1
He proceeded :—"Your going abroad, Sir, and breaking off
idle habits, may be of great importance to you. I would go
where there are courts and learned men. There is a good deal
of Spain that has not been perambulated. I would have you
go thither. A man of inferior talents to yours may furnish
us with useful observations upon that country." His suppos¬
ing me, at that period of life, capable of writing an account
of my travels that would deserve to be read, elated me not a
little.
I appeal to every impartial reader whether this faithful de¬
tail of his frankness, complacency, and kindness to a young
man, a stranger, and a Scotchman, does not refute the unjust
opinion of the harshness of his general demeanour. His occa¬
sional reproofs of folly, impudence, or impiety, and even the
sudden sallies of his constitutional irritability of temper, which
have been preserved for the poignancy of their wit, have pro-
1 Boswell alludes, principally at least, to the substitution of sheep-farm¬
ing for the old black-cattle system in the Highlands and islands of Scot¬
land, in consequence of which, fewer hands being required on the chiefs
estates, a large portion of their clansmen were driven into exile in America
We shall hear more of these affairs in the course of the Hebridean journal
—Lockhart.
336 boswell's life of Johnson. 1763.
duced that opinion among those who have not considered that
such instances, though collected by Mrs. Piozzi into a small
volume, and read over in a few hours, were, in fact, scattered
through a long series of years: years, in which his time was
chiefly spent in instructing and delighting mankind by his
writings and conversation, in acts of piety to God, and good¬
will to men.
I complained to him that I had not yet acquired much
knowledge, and asked his advice as to my studies. He said,
" Don't talk of study now. I will give you a plan ; but it will
require some time to consider of it." " It is very good in you,"
I replied, " to allow me to be with you thus. Had it been fore¬
told to me some years ago that I should pass an evening with
the author of the ' Rambler,' how should I have exulted ! "
What I then expressed, was sincerely from the heart. He was
satisfied that it was, and cordially answered, " Sir, I am glad
we have met. I hope we shall pass many evenings, and
mornings too, together." We finished a couple of bottles of
port, and sat till between one and two in the morning.
He wrote this year in the " Critical Review " the account of
" Telemachus, a Mask," by the Rev. George Graham, of Eton
College. The subject of this beautiful poem was particu¬
larly interesting to Johnson, who had much experience of
" the conflict of opposite principles," which he describes as
" the contention between pleasure and virtue; a struggle
which will always be continued while the present system of
nature shall subsist ; nor can history or poetry exhibit more
than pleasure triumphing over virtue, and virtue subjugating
pleasure."
As Dr. Oliver Goldsmith will frequently appear in this nar¬
rative, I shall endeavour 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 Col¬
lege, 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 Eng-
JET. 54.
BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
337
lish better than any of them." He afterwards studied physic
at Edinburgh, and upon the continent ; and, I have been in¬
formed, 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 en¬
titled 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 successively in the capa¬
cities of an usher to an academy, a corrector of the press, a re¬
viewer, and a writer for a newspaper. He had sagacity enough
to cultivate assiduously the acquaintance of Johnson, and his
faculties were gradually enlarged by the contemplation of such
a model. To me and many others it appeared that he stu¬
diously copied the manner of Johnson, though, indeed, upon a
smaller scale.
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 " A11 Inquiry 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.1 No man had the art of displaying
with more advantage, as a writer, whatever literary acquisitions
he made. "Nihil quod tetigit 11011 oniavit" 2 His mind re¬
sembled a fertile, but thin soil. There was a quick, but not a
strong vegetation, 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 par¬
terre appeared in gay succession. It has been generally circu¬
lated and believed that he was a mere fool in conversation ;:i
' He had also published in 1759, " The Bee ; being Essays on the most
interesting Subjects."—Malone.
2 See his Epitaph in Westminster Abbey, written by Dr. Johnson.
3 In allusion to this, Mr. Horace Walpole, who admired his writings,
said he was "an inspired idiotand Garrick described him as one
" for shortness call'd Noll,
Who wrote like an angel, and talk'd like poor Poll."
Sir Joshua Reynolds mentioned to me, that he frequently heard Goldsmith
Z
338
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
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 ; and from vanity and an eager
desire of being conspicuous wherever he was, he frequently
talked carelessly without knowledge of the subject, or even
without thought. His person was short, his countenance coarse
and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affect¬
ing the easy gentleman. Those who were in any way distin¬
guished, excited envy in him to so ridiculous an excess, that
the instances of it are hardly credible. When accompanying
two beautiful young ladies 1 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 Fan¬
toccini in London, when those who sat next him observed with
what dexterity a puppet 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." 2
He, I am afraid, had no settled system of any sort, so that
talk warmly of the pleasure of being liked, and observe how hard it would
be if literary excellence should preclude a man from that satisfaction,
which he perceived it often did, from the envy which attended it; and
therefore Sir Joshua was convinced that he was intentionally more absurd,
in order to lessen himself in social intercourse, trusting that his character
would be sufficiently supported by his works. If it indeed was his inten¬
tion to appear absurd in company, he was often very successful. But, with
due deference to Sir Joshua's ingenuity, I think the conjecture too refined.
1 Miss Hornecks, one of whom is now married to Henry Bunbury,
Esq., and the other to Colonel Gwyn.
Some pleasing notices of these ladies are given in Foster's Life of
Goldsmith, Bk. iv., ch. 4. One anecdote mentioned later deserves to be
transferred to these notes: " His coffin was reopened at the request of
Miss Horneck and her sister (such was the regard he was known to have
for them), that a lock might be cut from his hair. It was in Mrs. Gwyn's
possession when she died, after nearly seventy years.—Foster's Life, vol.
ii., p. 422,.—Editor.
2 He went home with Mr. Burke to supper; and broke his shin by
attempting to exhibit to the company how much better he could jump over
a stick than the puppets.
^T. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
339
his conduct must not be strictly scrutinised ; 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;1 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 pub¬
lish it till after the 'Traveller' had appeared. Then, to be
sure, it was accidentally worth more money."
Mrs.Piozzi2 and Sir John Hawkins3 have strangely mis-stated
the history of Goldsmith's situation and Johnson's friendly in¬
terference, when this novel was sold. I shall give it authenti¬
cally 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, desired he
1 I am willing to hope that there may have been some mistake as to this
anecdote, though I had it from a dignitary of the church. Dr. Isaac
Goldsmith, his near relation, was Dean of Cloyne in 1747.
2 Anecdotes of Johnson, p. 119. 3 Life of Johnson, p. 421.
340
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
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 sixty pounds. I
brought Goldsmith the money, and he discharged his rent,
not without rating his landlady in a high tone for having used
him so ill." 1
1 It may not be improper to annex here Mrs. Piozzi's account of this
transaction, in her own words, as a specimen of the extreme inaccuracy
with which all her anecdotes of Dr. Johnson are related, or rather dis¬
coloured and distorted :—
" I have forgotten the year, but it could scarcely, I think, be later than
1765 or 1766, that he was called abruptly from our house after dinner,
and, returning in about three hours, said he had been with an enraged
author, whose landlady pressed him for payment within doors, while the
bailiffs beset him without ; that he was drinking himself drunk with Ma¬
deira, to drown care, and fretting over a novel, which, when finished., was
to be his whole fortune j but he could not get it done for distraction, nor
could he step out of doors to offer it for sale. Mr. Johnson, therefore, sent
away the bottle, and went to the bookseller, recommending the perfor¬
mance, and desiring some immediate relief; which when he brought back to
the writer, he called the woman of the house directly to partake of punch,
and pass their time in merriment."—Anecdotes, p. 119.
Colonel O'Moore, of Cloghan Castle in Ireland, told me an amusing in¬
stance of the mingled vanity and simplicity of Goldsmith, which (though,
perhaps, coloured a little, as anecdotes too often are) is characteristic at
least of the opinion which his best friends entertained of Goldsmith. One
afternoon, as Colonel O'Moore and Mr. Burke were walking to dine with
Sir Joshua Reynolds, they observed Goldsmith (also on his way to Sir
Joshua's) standing near a crowd of people, who were staring and shouting
at some foreign women in the windows of one of the hotels in Leicester
Square. " Observe Goldsmith," said Mr. Burke to O'Moore, " and mark
what passes between him and me by-and-by at Sir Joshua's." They
passed on, and arrived before Goldsmith, who came soon after, and Mr.
Burke affected to receive him very coolly. This seemed to vex poor Gold¬
smith, who begged Mr. Burke would tell him how he had had the misfor¬
tune to offend him. Burke appeared very reluctant to speak ; but, after a
good deal of pressing, said, " that he was really ashamed to keep up an
intimacy with one who could be guilty of such monstrous indiscretions as
Goldsmith had just exhibited in the square." Goldsmith, with great ear¬
nestness, protested he was unconscious of what was meant. " Why," said
Burke, " did you not exclaim, as you were looking up at those women, what
MT. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
341
My next meeting with Johnson was on Friday, the 1st of
July, when he and I and Dr. Goldsmith supped at the Mitre.
I was before this time pretty well acquainted with Goldsmith,
who was one of the brightest ornaments of the Johnsonian
school. Goldsmith's respectful attachment to Johnson was
then at its height; for his own literary reputation had not yet
distinguished him so much as to excite a vain desire of compe¬
tition with his great master. He had increased my admiration
of the goodness of Johnson's heart, by incidental remarks in
the course of conversation ; such as, when I mentioned Mr.
Levett, whom he entertained under his roof, " He is poor and
honest, which is recommendation enough to Johnson;" and
when I wondered that he was very kind to a man of whom I
had heard a very bad character, " He is now become miserable,
and that insures the protection of Johnson."
Goldsmith attempting this evening to maintain, I suppose
from an affectation of paradox, " that knowledge was not
desirable on its own account, for it often was a source of un-
happiness ; "—JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, that knowledge may in
some cases produce unhappiness, I allow. But, upon the
whole, knowledge, per se, is certainly an object which every
man would wish to attain, although, perhaps, he may not take
the trouble necessary for attaining it."
Dr. John Campbell, the celebrated political and biographical
writer, being mentioned, Johnson said, " Campbell is a man of
much knowledge, and has a good share of imagination. His
' Hermippus Redivivus'1 is very entertaining, as an account of
stupid beasts the crowd must be for staring with such admiration at those
painted Jezebels; while a man of your talents passed by unnoticed?"
Goldsmith was horror-struck, and said, " Surely, surely, my dear friend,
I did not say so?" " Nay," replied Burke, "if you had not said so, how
should I have known it ?" " That's true," answered Goldsmith, with great
humility : " I am very sorry—it was very foolish : I do recollect that some¬
thing of the kind passed through my mind, but I did not think I had
uttered it."—Croker.
1 The author of this curious book was John Henry Cohausen, a German
physician, who was born at Hildesheim, 1675, and died at Munster,
July 13, 1750. Among the many works published by him, which are enume¬
rated in Didot's Biogr. Generale (Art. Cohausen), we find : Hermippus Re-
342
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
the Hermetic philosophy, and as furnishing a curious history
of the extravagances of the human mind. If it were merely
imaginary, it would be nothing at all. Campbell is not always
rigidly careful of truth in his conversation ; but I do not believe
there is anything of this carelessness in his books. Campbell
is a good man, a pious man. I am afraid he has not been in
the inside of a church for many years j1 but he never passes a
church without pulling off his hat. This shows that he has
good principles. I used to go pretty often to Campbell's on
a Sunday evening,'2 till I began to consider that the shoals of
Scotchmen who flocked about him might probably say, when
anything of mine was well done, ' Ay, ay, he has learnt this of
Cawmell !'"
He talked very contemptuously of Churchill's poetry, ob-
divivus, sive Exercitatio physico-medica curiosa de methodo rara ad cxv
annos prorogandas senectutis per anhelitum puellarum, ex veteri monu-
mento Romano deprompta, nunc artis medicinee fundamento stabilita et
rationibus atque exemplis necnon singulari chymias philosophies paradoxo
illustrata et confirmata. Frankfort-on-the-Maine, 1742. 8vo. This was
the book which Dr. John Campbell translated under the title, Hermippus
Redivivus ; or, the Sage's Triumph over Old Age and the Grave. The
second edition of the translation bears the date 1749.
1 I am inclined to think that he was misinformed as to this circumstance.
I own I am jealous for my worthy friend Dr. John Campbell. For though
Milton could without remorse absent himself from public worship, I can¬
not. On the contrary, I have the same habitual impressions upon my
mind, with those of a truly venerable judge, who said to Mr. Langton,
Friend Langton, if I have not been at church on Sunday, I do not feel
myself easy." Dr. Campbell was a sincerely religious man. Lord Macart¬
ney, who is eminent for his variety of knowledge, and attention to men
of talents, and knew him well, told me, that when he called on him in a
morning, he found him reading a chapter in the Greek New Testament,
which he informed his lordship was his constant practice. The quantity
of Dr. Campbell's composition is almost incredible, and his labours brought
him large profits. Dr. Joseph Warton told me that Johnson said of him,
" He is the richest author that ever grazed the common of literature."
2 Campbell's residence for some years before his death was the large
new-built house situate at the north-west corner of Queen Square, Blooms-
bury, whither, particularly on a Sunday evening, great numbers of persons
of the first eminence for science and literature were accustomed to re¬
sort for the enjoyment of conversation. Hawkins, p. 210.—P. Cun¬
ningham.
JET. 54-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
343
serving, that "it had a temporary currency, only from its
audacity of abuse, and being filled with living names, and that
it would sink into oblivion." I ventured to hint that he was
not quite a fair judge, as Churchill had attacked him violently.
JOHNSON. "Nay, Sir, I am a very fair judge. He did not
attack me violently till he found I did not like his poetry; and
his attack on me shall not prevent me from continuing to say
what I think of him, from an apprehension that it may be as¬
cribed to resentment. No, Sir, I called the fellow a blockhead
at first, and I will call him a blockhead still. However, I will
acknowledge that I have a better opinion of him now than I
once had; for he has shown more fertility than I expected.
To be sure, he is a tree that cannot produce good fruit : he
only bears crabs. But, Sir, a tree that produces a great many
crabs is better than a tree which produces only a few."
In this depreciation of Churchill's poetry I could not agree
with him. It is very true that the greatest part of it is upon
the topics of the day, on which account, as it brought him great
fame and profit at the time, it must proportionably slide out
of the public attention as other occasional objects succeed.
But Churchill had extraordinary vigour both of thought and
expression, flis portraits of the players will ever be valuable
to the true lovers of the drama; and his strong caricatures of
several eminent men of his age, will not be forgotten by the
curious. Let me add, that there is in his works many passages
which are of a general nature ; and his " Prophecy of Famine"
is a poem of no ordinary merit. It is, indeed, falsely injurious
to Scotland ; but therefore may be allowed a greater share of
invention.
Bonnell Thornton had just published a burlesque " Ode on
St. Cecilia's Day," adapted to the ancient British music, viz.
the salt-box, the Jew's harp, the marrow-bones and cleaver,
the hum-strum or hurdygurdy, &c. Johnson praised its
humour, and seemed much diverted with it. He repeated the
following passage:
" In strains more exalted the salt-box shall join,
And clattering and battering and clapping combine;
344 boswell's life of johnson. 1763.
With a rap and a tap, while the hollow side sounds,
Up and down leaps the flap, and with rattling rebounds."'1
I mentioned the periodical paper called "The connois¬
seur." He said it wanted matter.—No doubt it had not the
deep thinking of Johnson's writings ; but surely it has just
views of the surface of life, and a very sprightly manner. His
opinion of "the world " was not much higher than of "The
Connoisseur."
Let me here apologise for the imperfect manner in which I
am obliged to exhibit Johnson's conversation at this period.
In the early part of my acquaintance with him, I was so wrapt
in admiration of his extraordinary colloquial talents, and so
little accustomed to his peculiar mode of expression, that I
found it extremely difficult to recollect and record his conver¬
sation with its genuine vigour and vivacity. In progress of time,
when my mind was, as it were, strongly impregnated with the
Johnsonian cether, I could, with much more facility and exact¬
ness, carry in my memory and commit to paper the exuberant
variety of his wisdom and wit.
At this time Miss Williams, as she was then called, though
she did not reside with him in the Temple under his roof, but
had lodgings in Bolt-court, Fleet-street, had so much of his
attention, that he every night drank tea with her before he
1 In 1769 i set for Smart and Newbery, Thornton's burlesque Ode on
St. Cecilia's day. It was performed at Ranelagh in masks, to a very
crowded audience, as I was told ; for I then resided in Norfolk. Beard
sang the salt-box song, which was admirably accompanied on that in¬
strument by Brent, the fencing-master and father of Miss Brent, the cele¬
brated singer ; Skeggs on the broomstick, as bassoon ; and a remarkable
performer on the J ew's harp.—" Buzzing twangs the iron lyre." Cleavers
were cast in bell-metal for this entertainment. All the performers of the
old woman's Oratory, employed by Foote, were, I believe, employed at
Ranelagh on this occasion. —Burney.
In the original edition of this ode now before me, the date on the title-
page is 1749, a mistake, no doubt, for 1769. For the use to which Dr.
Burney put it, as a burlesque vehicle for music, it is very well ; but as
a literary production, it seems without object or meaning. It has not
even the low merit of being a parody ; the best line is that on the Jew's
harp, above quoted—<£ Buzzing twangs the iron lyre."—Croker.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
345
went home, however late it might be, and she always sat up for
him. This, it may be fairly conjectured, was not alone a proof of
his regard for her ; but of his own unwillingness to go into soli¬
tude, before that unseasonable hour at which he had habituated
himself to expect the oblivion of repose. Dr. Goldsmith, being
a privileged man, went with him this night, strutting away,
and calling to me with an air of superiority, like that of an
esoteric over an exoteric disciple of a sage of antiquity, " I go
to Miss Williams." I confess, I then envied him this mighty
privilege, of which he seemed so proud ; but it was not long
before I obtained the same mark of distinction.
On Tuesday the 5th of July, I again visited Johnson. He
told me he had looked into the poems of a pretty voluminous
writer, Mr. (now Dr.) John Ogilvie, one of the Presbyterian
ministers of Scotland, which had lately come out, but could
find no thinking in them. BOSWELL. " Is there not imagina¬
tion in them, Sir? " JOHNSON. "Why, Sir,there is in them, what
was imagination, but it is no more imagination, in him, than
sound is sound in the echo. And his diction, too, is not his own.
We have long ago seen white-robed innocence, and flower-
bespangled meads "
Talking of London, he observed, " Sir, if you wish to have a
just notion of the magnitude of this city, you must not be satis¬
fied with seeing its great streets and squares, but must survey
the innumerable little lanes and courts. It is not in the showy
evolutions of buildings, but in the multiplicity of human habita¬
tions which are crowded together, that the wonderful immensity
of London consists."—I have often amused myself with thinking
how different a place London is to different people. They,
whose narrow minds are contracted to the consideration of
some one particular pursuit, view it only through that medium.
A politician thinks of it merely as the seat of government in
its different departments; a grazier, as a vast market for
cattle; a mercantile man, as a place where a prodigious deal
of business is done upon 'Change ; a dramatic enthusiast, as
the grand scene of theatrical entertainments; a man of plea¬
sure, as an assemblage of taverns, and the great emporium for
34-6
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763-
ladies of easy virtue. But the intellectual man is struck with
it, as comprehending the whole of human life in all its variety,
the contemplation of which is inexhaustible.
On Wednesday, July 6, he was engaged to sup with me at
my lodgings in Downing-street, Westminster. But on the
preceding night my landlord having behaved very rudely to
me and some company who were with me, I had resolved not
to remain another night in his house. I was exceedingly uneasy
at the awkward appearance I supposed I should make to
Johnson and the other gentlemen whom I had invited, not
being able to receive them at home, and being obliged to order
supper at the Mitre. I went to Johnson in the morning, and
talked of it as of a serious distress. He laughed, and said,
"Consider, Sir, how insignificant this will appear a twelve¬
month hence." Were this consideration to be applied to most
of the little vexatious incidents of life, by which our quiet is
too often disturbed, it would prevent many painful sensations.
I have tried it frequently with good effect. " There is nothing,"
continued he, "in this mighty misfortune; nay, we shall be
better at the Mitre." I told him that I had been at Sir John
Fielding's office,1 complaining of my landlord, and had been
informed that, though I had taken my lodgings for a year, I might,
upon proof of his bad behaviour, quit them when I pleased, with¬
out being under an obligation to pay rent for any longer time
than while I possessed them. The fertility of Johnson's mind
could show itself even upon so small a matter as this. " Why,
Sir," said he, " I suppose this must be the law, since you have
been told so in Bow-street. But, if your landlord could hold you
to your bargain, and the lodgings should be yours for a year, you
may certainly use them as you think fit. So, Sir, you may quar¬
ter two life-guardsmen upon him ; or you may send the greatest
scoundrel you can find into your apartments ; or you may say
that you want to make some experiments in natural philoso¬
phy, and may burn a large quantity of assafoetida in his house."
1 Sir John Fielding was half-brother to Henry Fielding, and his suc¬
cessor in the office of Justice for Westminster. He was knighted in Oc¬
tober, 1761, and died September, 1780.—Editor.
JET. 54. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 347
I had as my guests this evening at the Mitre tavern, Dr.
Johnson, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Thomas Davies, Mr. Eccles,1 an
Irish gentleman, for whose agreeable company I was obliged
to Mr. Davies, and the Rev. Mr. John Ogilvie,2 who was de¬
sirous of being in company with my illustrious friend ; while I,
in my turn, was proud to have the honour of showing one of
my countrymen upon what easy terms Johnson permitted me
to live with him.
Goldsmith, as usual, endeavoured, with too much eagerness,
to shine, and disputed very warmly with Johnson against the
well-known maxim of the British constitution, " the king can
do no wrong ; " affirming, that " what was morally false could
not be politically true ; and as the king might, in the exercise
of his regal power, command and cause the doing of what was
wrong, it certainly might be said, in sense and in reason, that
he could do wrong." JOHNSON. "Sir, you are to consider,
that in our constitution, according to its true principles, the
king is the head, he is supreme; he is above everything, and
there is no power by which he can be tried. Therefore it is,
Sir, that we hold the king can do no wrong; that whatever
may happen to be wrong in government may not be above our
reach, by being ascribed to Majesty. Redress is always to be
had against oppression, by punishing the immediate agents.
The king, though he should command, cannot force a judge to
condemn a man unjustly ; therefore it is the judge whom we
prosecute and punish. Political institutions are formed upon
the consideration of what will most frequently tend to the good
of the whole, although now and then exceptions may occur.
1 Isaac Ambrose Eccles, Esq., of Cronroe, in the county of Wicklow,
whom I have heard talk of this supper. He was of a literary turn, and
published one or two plays of Shakspeare, with notes.—Croker.
2 The northern bard mentioned page 345. When I asked Dr. Johnson's
permission to introduce him, he obligingly agreed ; adding, however, with
a sly pleasantry, " but he must give us none of his poetry." It is remark¬
able that Johnson and Churchill, however much they differed in other
points, agreed on this subject. See Churchill's "Journey." It is, how¬
ever, but justice to Dr. Ogilvie to observe, that his " Day of J udgment"
has no inconsiderable share of merit.
348
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
Thus it is better in general that a nation should have a su¬
preme legislative power, although it may at times be abused.
And then, Sir, there is this consideration, that if the abuse be
enormous, Nature will rise up ; and, claiming her original rights,
overturn a corrupt political system." I mark this animated sen¬
tence with peculiarpleasure, as a noble instance of that truly dig¬
nified spirit of freedom which ever glowed in his heart, though
he was charged with slavish tenets by superficial observers ;
because he was at all times indignant against that false
patriotism, that pretended love of freedom, that unruly rest¬
lessness, which is inconsistent with the stable authority of any
good government.
This generous sentiment, which he uttered with great
fervour, struck me exceedingly, and stirred my blood to that
pitch of fancied resistance, the possibility of which I am glad
to keep in mind, but to which I trust I never shall be forced.
" Great abilities," said he, " are not requisite for an historian ;
for in historical composition all the greatest powers of the
human mind are quiescent. He has facts ready to his hand ;
so there is no exercise of invention. Imagination is not re¬
quired in any high degree; only about as much as is used in
the lower kinds of poetry. Some penetration, accuracy, and
colouring, will fit a man for the task, if he can give the appli¬
cation which is necessary."
" Bayle's Dictionary is a very useful work for those to con¬
sult who love the biographical part of literature, which is what
I love most."
Talking of the eminent writers in Queen Anne's reign,
he observed, " I think Dr. Arbuthnot the first man among
them. He was the most universal genius, being an excellent
physician, a man of deep learning, and a man of much humour.
Mr. Addison was, to be sure, a great man : his learning was
not profound; but his morality, his humour, and his elegance
of writing, set him very high."
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.
^ET. 54.
boswell's life of johnson.
349
Goldsmith, who had studied physic there, contradicted this,
very untruly, with a sneering laugh. Disconcerted a little by
this, Mr. Ogilvie then took new ground, where, I suppose, he
thought himself perfectly safe ; for he observed, that Scotland
had a great many noble wild prospects. Johnson. " I be¬
lieve, Sir, you have a great many. Norway, too, has noble
wild prospects; and Lapland is remarkable 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 unexpected 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; add¬
ing, 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,1
answered, with a smile of ridicule, " Why, yes, Sir, it is good
for vegetables, and for the animals who eat those vegetables,
and for the animals who eat those animals." This observation
of his aptly enough introduced a good supper; and I soon forgot,
in Johnson's company, the influence of a moist atmosphere.
Feeling myself now quite at ease as his companion, though I
had all possible reverence for him, I expressed a regret that I
could not be so easy with my father, though he was not much
older than Johnson, and certainly, however respectable, had not
more learning and greater abilities to depress me. I asked him
the reason of this. johnson. " Why, Sir, I am a man of the
1 " People," said he, " live as long in Pepper Alley, as on Salisbury
Plain; and they live so much happier, that an inhabitant of the first
would, if he turned cottager, starve his understanding for want of conver¬
sation, and perish in a state of mental inferiority."—Piozzi's Anecdotes,
p. 207.—Editor.
350
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
world. I live in the world, and I take, in some degree, the
colour of the world as it moves along. Your father is a judge
in a remote part of the island, and all his notions are taken
from the old world. Besides, Sir, there must always be a
struggle between a father and son, while one aims at power
and the other at independence." I said, I was afraid my
father would force me to be a lawyer. JOHNSON. " Sir, you
need not be afraid of his forcing you to be a laborious prac¬
tising lawyer ; that is not in his power. For, as the proverb
says, ' One man may lead a horse to the water, but twenty
cannot make him drink.' He may be displeased that you are
not what he wishes you to be ; but that displeasure will not go
far. If he insists only on your having as much law as is neces¬
sary for a man of property, and then endeavours to get you
into Parliament, he is quite in the right."
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 argu¬
ments. JOHNSON. " Sir, I was once1 in company 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."
Talking of those who denied the truth of Christianity, he
said, " It is always easy to be on the negative side. If a man
were now to deny that there is salt upon the table, you could
not reduce him to an absurdity. Come, let us try this a little
further. I deny that Canada is taken, and I can support my
denial by pretty good arguments. The French are a much
more numerous people than we ; and it is not likely that they
would allow us to take it. ' But the ministry have assured us,
in all the formality of the "Gazette," that it is taken.'—Very
true. But the ministry have put us to an enormous expense
by the war in America, and it is their interest to persuade us
1 This was said July 14, 1763. Adam Smith was elected to the Club,
Dec., 1775.—Editor.
ALT. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
351
that we have got something for our money.—' But the fact is
confirmed by thousands of men who were at the taking of it.'
—Ay, but these men have still more interest in deceiving us.
They don't want that you should think the French have beat
them, but that they have beat the French. Now suppose you
should go over and find that it really is taken; that would
only satisfy yourself; for when you come home we will not
believe you. W% will say, you have been bribed.—Yet, Sir,
notwithstanding all these plausible objections, we have no
doubt that Canada is really ours. Such is the weight of com¬
mon testimony. How much stronger are the evidences of the
Christian religion!"
" 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 the day, and so may
acquire a great deal of knowledge."
To a man of vigorous intellect and ardent curiosity like his
own, reading without a regular plan may be beneficial ; though
even such a man must submit to it, if he would attain a full
understanding of any of the sciences.
To such a degree of unrestrained frankness had he now ac¬
customed me, that in the course of this evening I talked of the
numerous reflections which had been thrown out against him
on account of his having accepted a pension from his present
Majesty. "Why, Sir, (said he, with a hearty laugh,) it is a
mighty foolish noise that they make.1 I have accepted of a
pension as a reward which has been thought due to my literary
merit; and now that I have this pension, I am the same man
in every respect that I have ever been ; I retain the same prin¬
ciples. It is true, that I cannot now curse (smiling) the house
of Hanover ; nor would it be decent for me to drink King
1 When I mentioned the same idle clamour to him several years after¬
wards, he said, with a smile, " I wish my pension were twice as large,
that they might make twice as much noise."
352 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1763.
James's health in the wine that King George gives me money
to pay for. But, Sir, I think that the pleasure of cursing the
house of Hanover, and drinking King James's health, are amply
overbalanced by three hundred pounds a year."
There was here, most certainly, an affectation of more
Jacobitism than he really had ; and indeed an intention of
admitting, for the moment, in a much greater extent than it
really existed, the charge of disaffection imputed to him by
the world, merely for the purpose of showing how dexterously
he could repel an attack, even though he were placed in the
most disadvantageous position ; for I have heard him declare,
that if holding up his right hand would have secured victory
at Culloden to Prince Charles's army, he was not sure he would
have held it up ; so little confidence had he in the right
claimed by the house of Stuart, and so fearful was he of the
consequences of another revolution on the throne of Great
Britain ; and Mr. Topham Beauclerk assured me, he had
heard him say this before he had his pension. At another
time he said to Mr. Langton, " Nothing has ever offered that
has made it worth my while to consider the question fully."
He, however, also said to the same gentleman, talking of King
James the Second, " It was become impossible for him to reign
any longer in this country." He no doubt had an early attach¬
ment to the house of Stuart; but his zeal had cooled as his
reason strengthened. Indeed, I heard him once say, " that
after the death of a violent Whig, with whom he used to con¬
tend with great eagerness, he felt his Toryism much abated."1
I suppose he meant Mr. Walmesley.
Yet there is no doubt that at earlier periods he was wont often
to exercise both his pleasantry and ingenuity in talking Jaco¬
bitism. My much-respected friend, Dr. Douglas, now Bishop
of Salisbury, has favoured me with the following admirable
instance from his Lordship's own recollection. 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
1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, third edition, p. 402.
^ET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
353
dear, I hope you are a Jacobite." Old Mr. Langton, who,
though a high and steady Tory, was 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 Johnson, " 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 believes in a Divinity. A Jacobite be¬
lieves 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
WJiiggism is a negation of all principled 1
He advised me, when abroad, to be as much as I could with
the professors in the universities, and with the clergy ; for
from their conversation I might expect the best accounts of
every thing, in whatever country I should be, with the addi¬
tional advantage of keeping my learning alive.
It will be observed, that when giving me advice as to my
travels, Dr. Johnson did not dwell upon cities, and palaces, and
pictures, and shows, and Arcadian scenes. He was of Lord
Essex's opinion, who advises his kinsman, Roger Earl of Rut¬
land, " rather to go a hundred miles to speak with one wise
man, than five miles to see a fair town." 2
1 He used to tell, with great humour, from my relation to him, the
following little story of my early years, which was literally true :—" Bos-
well, in the year 1745, was a fine boy, wore a white cockade, and prayed for
King James, till one of his uncles (General Cochran) gave him a shilling
on condition that he would pray for King George, which he accord¬
ingly did. So you see (says Boswell) that Whigs of all ages are made
the same way."
2 Letter to Rutland on Travel, i6mo., 1596.
It is probable that Boswell did not distinguish between the date of the
composition of this letter—January 4, 1596—and the date of its publica¬
tion in a small i2mo volume, entitled," Profitable Instructions describing
what Special Observations are to be taken by Travellers in all Nations,
States, and Countries." London, 1633. On the strength of the "mental
relationship" between the writer and Bacon, Mr. Spedding includes this
and two other letters on the same subject, in his edition of Bacon's works,
A A
354 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1763.
I described to him an impudent fellow from Scotland, who
affected to be a savage, and railed at all established systems.
JOHNSON. "There is nothing surprising in this, Sir. He wants
to make himself conspicuous. He would tumble in a hogsty,
as long as you looked at him and called to him to come out.
But let him alone, never mind him, and he'll soon give it
over."
I added, that the same person maintained that there was no
distinction between virtue and vice. JOHNSON. "Why, Sir,
if the fellow does not think as he speaks, he is lying; and I
see not what honour he can propose to himself from having
the character of a liar. But if he does really think that there
is no distinction between virtue and vice, why, Sir, when he
leaves our houses let us count our spoons."
Sir David Dalrymple, now one of the Judges of Scotland by
the title of Lord Hailes,1 had contributed much to increase my
high opinion of Johnson, on account of his writings, long before
I attained to a personal acquaintance with him : I, in return,
had informed Johnson of Sir David's eminent character for
learning and religion ; and Johnson was so much pleased, that
at one of our evening meetings he gave him for his toast. I
at this time kept up a very frequent correspondence with Sir
David ; and I read to Dr. Johnson to-night the following pas¬
sage from the letter which I had last received from him :—
" It gives me pleasure to think that you have obtained the friend¬
ship of Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is one of the best moral writers
which England has produced. At the same time, I envy you the
free and undisguised converse with such a man. May I beg you to
present my best respects to him, and to assure him of the veneration
which I entertain for the author of the ' Rambler' and of ' Ras-
vol. ix., pp. 6-20. The passage cited by Boswell in the text is in the first
letter, p. 14.—Editor.
1 This learned and excellent person was born in 1726; educated at
Eton, and afterwards at Utrecht; called to the Scotch bar in 1748 ; a lord
of session in 1766. He died in 1792. He wrote some papers in the
World and Mirror, and published several original tracts on religious,
historical, and antiquarian subjects, and republished a great many more.
—Croker.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
355
selas ? ' Let me recommend this last work to you ; with the ' Ram¬
bler ' you certainly are acquainted. In ' Rasselas' you will see a
tender-hearted operator, who probes the wound only to heal it. Swift,
on the contrary, mangles human nature. He cuts and slashes, as if
he took pleasure in the operation, like the tyrant who said, Ita feri
ut se sentiat emori
Johnson seemed to be much gratified by this just and well-
turned compliment.
He recommended to me to keep a journal of my life, full
and unreserved. He said it would be a very good exercise,
and would yield me great satisfaction when the particulars
were faded from my remembrance. I was uncommonly for¬
tunate in having had a previous coincidence of opinion with
him upon this subject, for I had kept such a journal for some
time ; and it was no small pleasure to me to have this to tell
him, and to receive his approbation. He counselled me to
keep it private, and said I might surely have a friend who
would burn it in case of my death. From this habit I have
been enabled to give the world so many anecdotes, which
would otherwise have been lost to posterity. I mentioned
that I was afraid I put into my journals too many little in¬
cidents. JOHNSON. "There is nothing, Sir, too little for so
little a creature as man. It is by studying little things, that
we attain the great art of having as little misery and as much
happiness as possible." 1
Next morning Mr. Dempster happened to call on me, and
was so much struck even with the imperfect account which I
gave him of Dr. Johnson's conversation, that to his honour be
it recorded, when I complained that drinking port and sitting
up late with him, affected my nerves for some time after, he
said, " One had better be palsied at eighteen than not keep
company with such a man."
1 " I had the honour of supping tete-a-tete with Mr. Johnson last night.
We sat till between two and three. He took me by the hand cordially,
and said : ' My dear Bos well, I love you very much.' Now, Temple, can
I help indulging vanity?"—Letters of Boswell, addressed to the Rev.
W. J. Temple, p. 27. London : Bentley, 1857.—Editor.
356
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
On Tuesday, July 19, I found tall Sir Thomas Robinson1
sitting with Johnson. Sir Thomas said, that the King of
Prussia valued himself upon three things :—upon being a hero,
a musician, and an author. JOHNSON. "Pretty well, Sir, for
one man. As to his being an author, I have not looked at
his poetry ; but his prose is poor stuff. He writes just as
you may suppose Voltaire's footboy to do, who has been his
amanuensis. He has such parts as the valet might have, and
about as much of the colouring of the style as might be got by
transcribing his works." When I was at Ferney, I repeated
this to Voltaire, in order to reconcile him somewhat to John¬
son, whom he, in affecting the English mode of expression, had
previously characterised as "a superstitious dog;" but after
hearing such a criticism on Frederick the Great, with whom
he was then on bad terms, he exclaimed, " An honest
fellow!"
But I think the criticism much too severe ; for the " Memoirs
of the House of Brandenburgh " are written as well as many
works of that kind. His poetry, for the style of which he him¬
self makes a frank apology, "jargonnant un Francois barb are"
though fraught with pernicious ravings of infidelity, has, in
many places, great animation, and in some a pathetic tender¬
ness.
Upon this contemptuous animadversion on the King of
Prussia, I observed to Johnson, " It would seem then, Sir, that
1 The elder brother of the first Lord Rokeby, called long Sir Thomas
Robinson, on account of his height, and to distinguish him from Sir
Thomas Robinson, first Lord Grantham. He was a familiar acquain¬
tance of Lord Chesterfield, and by him, as Hawkins relates, employed as
a mediator with Johnson, who, on his first visit, treated him very indig¬
nantly. It was on his request for an epigram that Lord Chesterfield
made the distich—
" £/r;zlike my subject will I make my song,
It shall be witty and it shan't be long:"
and to whom he said in his last illness, "Ah, Sir Thomas, it will be sooner
over with me than it would be with you, for I am dying by inchesLord
Chesterfield was very short. Sir Thomas did not long survive his witty
friend, and died in 1777.—Croker.
XT. 54-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
357
much less parts are necessary to make a king, than to make an
author ; for the king of Prussia is confessedly the greatest king
now in Europe, yet you think he makes a very poor figure as
an author."
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 handwriting, 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 favourable for retirement and meditation. Johnson told
me, that he went up thither without mentioning it to his ser¬
vant 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 philoso¬
pher 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 intelligence, understands say¬
ing his master is not at home, not at all as the affirmation of
a fact, but as customary words, intimating that his master
wishes not to be seen ; so that there can be no bad effect
from it.
Mr. Temple,1 now vicar of St. Gluvias, Cornwall, who had
1 William Johnson Temple, LL.B., of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. Bos-
well had formed an intimacy with this gentleman at the University of
Glasgow. Temple's sketch of Gray's character, adopted both by Mason
and Johnson, has transmitted his name to posterity. For some particulars
of his preferment and works, see Mitford's Life of Gray, p. lxviii. (note),
Aldine edition. He died Aug. 8, 1796.—Markland.
The Letters of James Boswell to Rev. William Johnson Temple, which
353
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
been my intimate friend for many years, had at this time
chambers in Farrar's Buildings, at the bottom of Inner Tem¬
ple Lane, which he kindly lent me upon my quitting my
lodgings, he being to return to Trinity Hall, Cambridge. I
found them particularly convenient for me, as they were so
near Dr. Johnson's.
On Wednesday, July 20, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Dempster, and
my uncle Dr. Boswell, who happened to be now in London,
supped with me at these chambers. JOHNSON. " Pity is not
natural to man. Children are always cruel. Savages are
always cruel. Pity is acquired and improved by the cultiva¬
tion of reason. We may have uneasy sensations from seeing
a creature in distress, without pity; for we have not pity
have been cited above, were published by Mr. Richard Bentley, in 1857.
The discovery of this correspondence is one of the strangest things in the
history of literature, rivalled only by the discovery of the Diary of a Visit
to England in 1775, by Dr. Thomas Campbell—the Irish Dr. Campbell—-
" behind an old press in the offices of the Supreme Court of New South
Wales," which was published at Sydney in 1854. It appears that on
the death of Temple (1796) his letters and papers were taken possession
of by a Mr. Powlett, who had married his daughter, her brothers being
then children, and living abroad. Powlett afterwards went to France,
and died there; place and date not stated. These papers of their
father, the Temples could never recover ; they passed from hand to hand,
till a Major Stone (H.E.I.C.S.) fell on them in a most unexpected
manner. A clergyman having occasion, a few years ago—i.e., before the
publication of the letters from Boswell to Temple (1857)—to buy some
articles at the shop of Madame Noel, at Boulogne, observed that the
paper in which they were wrapped was a fragment of an English letter.
Upon inspection, a date and some names were discovered. Investigation
revealed that this wrapper was part of a correspondence between Boswell
and his friend Temple, and that it had been taken from a large parcel
recently purchased from a hawker, who periodically supplied different
shops of Boulogne with paper. The whole contents of the parcel were
immediately secured. The greater part of the letters bore the London and
Devon post-mark. The purchaser was Major Stone, on whose death they
passed by bequest into the possession of " Mr. Boyse, a barrister," who
again placed them in the hands of Mr. Edward Hornby, from whom they
were obtained by the editor of the Bentley volume, Mr. Philip Francis.
The originals were for some time submitted to public inspection at Mr.
Bentley's. See Notes and Queries, 2nd Series, vol. iii., p. 382, and the
Preface to the volume itself.—Editor.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
359
unless we wish to relieve them. When I am on my way to
dine with a friend, and finding it late, have bid the coachman
make haste, if I happen to attend when he whips his horses, I
may feel unpleasantly that the animals are put to pain, but
I do not wish him to desist: no, Sir, I wish him to drive
on."
Mr. Alexander Donaldson, bookseller of Edinburgh, had
for some time opened a shop in London, and sold his cheap
editions of the most popular English books, in defiance of the
supposed common-law right of Literary Property. Johnson,
though he concurred in the opinion which was afterwards
sanctioned by a judgment of the House of Lords, that there
was no such right, was at this time very angry that the book¬
sellers of London, for whom he uniformly professed much re¬
gard, should suffer from an invasion of what they had ever
considered to be secure; and he was loud and violent against
Mr. Donaldson. " He is a fellow who takes advantage of the
law to injure his brethren ; for notwithstanding that the statute
secures only fourteen years of exclusive right, it has always
been understood by the trade, that he who buys the copyright
of a book from the author obtains a perpetual property; and
upon that belief, numberless bargains are made to transfer
that property after the expiration of the statutory term. Now,
Donaldson, I say, takes advantage here, of people who have
really an equitable title from usage ; and if we consider how
few of the books, of which they buy the property, succeed so
well as to bring profit, we should be of opinion that the term
of fourteen years is too short; it should be sixty years."
DEMPSTER. "Donaldson, Sir, is anxious for the encourage¬
ment of literature. He reduces the price of books, so that
poor students may buy them." JOHNSON (laughing). "Well,
Sir, allowing that to be his motive, he is no better than
Robin Hood, who robbed the rich in order to give to the
poor."
It is remarkable, that when the great question concerning
literary property came to be ultimately tried before the
supreme tribunal of this country, in consequence of the very
360
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I763-
spirited exertions of Mr. Donaldson, Dr. Johnson was zealous
against a perpetuity; but he thought that the term of the ex¬
clusive right of authors should be considerably enlarged. He
was then for granting a hundred years.
The conversation now turned upon Mr. David Hume's
style. JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, his style is not English; the
structure of his sentences is French. Now the French struc¬
ture and the English structure may, in the nature of things, be
equally good. But if you allow that the English language is
established, he is wrong. My name might originally have
been Nicholson, as well as Johnson; but were you to call me
Nicholson now, you would call me very absurdly."
Rousseau's treatise on the inequality of mankind 1 was at
this time a fashionable topic. It gave rise to an observation
by Mr. Dempster, that the advantages of fortune and rank
were nothing to a wise man, who ought to value only merit.
JOHNSON. "If man were a savage, living in the woods by
himself, this might be true; but in civilised society we all
depend upon each other, and our happiness is very much
owing to the good opinion of mankind. Now, Sir, in civilised
society, external advantages make us more respected. A man
with a good coat upon his back meets with a better reception
than he who has a bad one. Sir, you may analyse this, and
say, What is there in it ? But that will avail you nothing, for
it is a part of a general system. Pound St. Paul's church into
atoms, and consider any single atom; it is, to be sure, good
for nothing : but, put all these atoms together, and you have
St. Paul's church. So it is with human felicity, which is made
up of many ingredients, each of which may be shown to be
very insignificant. In civilised society, personal merit will
not serve you so much as money will. Sir, you may make
1 The origin of inequality was not, as Mr. Croker affirms, the subject of
the Dijon prize essay. The subject of that prize essay was : " Si le re-
tablissement des sciences et des arts a contribud a epurer les mceurs
Paris, 1750. The origin of inequality was a substantive work with this
title: " Discours sur l'origine et les fondements de l'inegalite parmi les
hommes:" Amst. 1755, in 8vo., and 1762, in 121110.—Editor.
^ET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
the experiment. Go into the street, and give one man a
lecture on morality, and another a shilling, and see which will
respect you most. If you wish only to support nature, Sir
William Petty fixes your allowance at three pounds a year ;l
but as times are much altered, let us call it six pounds. This
sum will fill your belly, shelter you from the weather, and even
get you a strong lasting coat, supposing it to be made of good
bull's hide. Now, Sir, all beyond this is artificial, and is de¬
sired in order to obtain a greater degree of respect from our
fellow creatures. And, Sir, if six hundred pounds a year pro¬
cure a man more consequence, and of course, more happiness,
than six pounds a year, the same proportion will hold as to
six thousand, and so on, as far as opulence can be carried.
Perhaps he who has a large fortune may not be so happy as
he who has a small one ; but that must proceed from other
causes than from his having the large fortune : for, cceteris
paribus, he who is rich, in civilised society, must be happier
than he who is poor; as riches, if properly used, (and it is a
man's own fault if they are not,) must be productive of the
highest advantages. Money, to be sure, of itself is of no use ;
for its only use is to part with it. Rousseau, and all those
who deal in paradoxes, are led away by a childish desire
of novelty. When I was a boy, I used always to choose the
wrong side of a debate, because most ingenious things, that is
to say, most new things, could be said upon it. Sir, there is
nothing for which you may not muster up more plausible
arguments, than those which are urged against wealth and
other external advantages. Why, now, there is stealing ;
why should it be thought a crime ? When we consider by
what unjust methods property has been often acquired, and
that what was unjustly got it must be unjust to keep, where is
the harm in one man's taking the property of another from
him ? Besides, Sir, when we consider the bad use that many
people make of their property, and how much better use the
thief may make of it, it may be defended as a very allowable
practice. Yet, Sir, the experience of mankind has discovered
1 See his Quantulumcunque, concerning money. 4to., London, 1682.
362
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
stealing to be so very bad a thing, that they make no scruple
to hang a man for it. When I was running about this town a
very poor fellow, I was a great arguer for the advantages of
poverty; but I was, at the same time, very sorry to be poor.
Sir, all the arguments which are brought to represent poverty
as no evil, show it to be evidently a great evil. You never find
people labouring to convince you that you may live very
happily upon a plentiful fortune. So you hear people talking
how miserable a king must be ; and yet they all wish to be in
his place."
It was suggested, that kings must be unhappy, because they
are deprived of the greatest of all satisfactions, easy and unre¬
served society. JOHNSON. "That is an ill-founded notion.
Being a king does not exclude a man from such society. Great
kings have always been social. The king of Prussia, the only
great king at present, is very social. Charles the Second, the
last king of England who was a man of parts, was social; and
our Henrys and Edwards were all social."
Mr. Dempster having endeavoured to maintain that intrinsic
merit ought to make the only distinction amongst mankind.
JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, mankind have found that this cannot
be. How shall we determine the proportion of intrinsic merit ?
Were that to be the only distinction amongst mankind, we
should soon quarrel about the degrees of it. Were all distinc¬
tions abolished, the strongest would not long acquiesce, but
would endeavour to obtain a superiority by their bodily
strength. But, Sir, as subordination is very necessary for
society, and contentions for superiority very dangerous, man¬
kind, that is to say, all civilised nations, have settled it upon a
plain invariable principle. A man is born to hereditary rank ;
or his being appointed to certain offices gives him a certain
rank. Subordination tends greatly to human happiness. Were
we all upon an equality, we should have no other enjoyment
than mere animal pleasure."
I said, I consider distinction of rank to be of so much im¬
portance in civilised society, that if I were asked on the same
day to dine with the first duke in England, and with the first
^T. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
363
man in Britain for genius, I should hesitate which to prefer.
JOHNSON. " To be sure, Sir, if you were to dine only once, and
it were never to be known where you dined, you would choose
rather to dine with the first man for genius; but to gain most
respect, you should dine with the first duke in England. For
nine people in ten that you meet with, would have a higher
opinion of you for having dined with a duke ; and the great
genius himself would receive you better, because you had been
with the great duke."
He took care to guard himself against any possible suspicion
that his settled principles of reverence for rank, and respect for
wealth, were at all owing to mean or interested motives; for
he asserted his own independence as a literary man. " No
man," said he, " who ever lived by literature, has lived more
independently than I have done." He said he had taken longer
time than he needed to have done in composing his " Dic¬
tionary." He received our compliments upon that great work
with complacency, and told us that the Academy della Crusca
could scarcely believe that it was done by one man.
Next morning I found him alone, and have preserved the
following fragments of his conversation. Of a gentleman1 who
was mentioned, he said, " I have not met with any man for a
long time who has given me such general displeasure. He is
totally unfixed in his principles, and wants to puzzle other
people." I said his principles had been poisoned by a noted
infidel writer, but that he was, nevertheless, a benevolent good
man. JOHNSON. "We can have no dependence upon that
instinctive, that constitutional goodness, which is not founded
upon principle. 1 grant you that such a man may be a very
1 On Wednesday evening (preceding the next morning of the text), Mr.
Johnson, Dempster, and my uncle, Dr. Boswell, supped with me at my
chambers. I had prodigious satisfaction to find Dempster's sophistry
(which he has learned from Hume and Rousseau) vanquished by the solid
sense and vigorous reasoning of Johnson. It was a fertile evening, and my
journal is stored with its fruits. Dempster was as happy as a vanquished
argumentator could be ; and the honest Doctor (i.e. Doctor Boswell) was
cheerful and conversable and highly entertained.—Boswell to Temple,
ibid. p. 34.—Editor.
364 boswell's life of johnson. 1763.
amiable member of society. I can conceive him placed in
such a situation that he is not much tempted to deviate from
what is right; and as every man prefers virtue, when there is
not some strong incitement to transgress its precepts, I can
conceive him doing nothing wrong. But if such a man stood
in need of money, I should not like to trust him ; and I should
certainly not trust him with young ladies, for there there is
always temptation. Hume, and other sceptical innovators,
are vain men, and will gratify themselves at any expense.
Truth will not afford sufficient food to their vanity ; so they
have betaken themselves to error. Truth, Sir, is a cow which
will yield such people no more milk, and so they are gone
to milk the bull. If I could have allowed myself to gratify
my vanity at the expense of truth, what fame might I have
acquired ! Every thing which Hume has advanced against
Christianity had passed through my mind long before he wrote.
Always remember this, that after a system is well settled upon
positive evidence, a few partial objections ought not to shake
it. The human mind is so limited, that it cannot take in all
the parts of a subject, so that there may be objections raised
against any thing. There are objections against a plenum, and
objections against a vacuum ; yet one of them must certainly
be true."
I mentioned Hume's argument against the belief of miracles,
that it is more probable that the witnesses to the truth of them
are mistaken, or speak falsely, than that the miracles should
be true. johnson. " Why, Sir, the great difficulty of proving
miracles should make us very cautious in believing them. But
let us consider ; although God has made Nature to operate by
certain fixed laws, yet it is not unreasonable to think that he
may suspend those laws, in order to establish a system highly
advantageous to mankind. Now the Christian religion is a
most beneficial system, as it gives us light and certainty where
we were before in darkness and doubt. The miracles which
prove it are attested by men who had no interest in deceiving
us ; but who, on the contrary, were told that they should suffer
persecution, and did actually lay down their lives in confirma-
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
365
tion of the truth of the facts which they asserted. Indeed, for
some centuries the heathens did not pretend to deny the
miracles ; but said they were performed by the aid of evil
spirits. This is a circumstance of great weight. Then, Sir,
when we take the proofs derived from prophecies which have
been so exactly fulfilled, we have most satisfactory evidence.
Supposing a miracle possible, as to which, in my opinion,
there can be no doubt, we have as strong evidence for the
miracles in support of Christianity as the nature of the thing
admits."
At night, Mr. Johnson and I supped in a private room at
the Turk's Head coffee-house, in the Strand.1 " I encourage
this house," said he, " for the mistress of it is a good civil
woman, and has not much business."
" Sir, I love the acquaintance of young people ; because, in
the first place, I don't like to think myself growing old. In the
next place, young acquaintances must last longest, if they do
last; and then, Sir, young men have more virtue than old men ;
they have more generous sentiments in every respect. I love
the young dogs of this age ; they have more wit and humour
and knowledge of life than we had ; but then the dogs are not
so good scholars. Sir, in my early years I read very hard. It
is a sad reflection, but a true one, that I knew almost as much
at eighteen as I do now.2 My judgment, to be sure, was not
so good ; but I had all the facts. I remember very well, when
I was at Oxford, an old gentleman said to me, 'Young man,
ply your book diligently now, and acquire a stock of know¬
ledge ; for when years come unto you, you will find that poring
upon books will be but an irksome task.'"
This account of his reading, given by himself in plain words,
sufficiently confirms what I have already advanced upon the
disputed question as to his application. It reconciles any
seeming inconsistency in his way of talking upon it at different
1 A coffee-house over against Catherine Street, in the Strand, recently
rebuilt and called " Wright's Hotel."—P. Cunningham.
2 Compare the account of this conversation in the letter of Boswell to
Temple, p. 34.—Editor.
366
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
times; and shows that idleness and reading hard were with
him relative terms, the import of which, as used by him, must
be gathered from a comparison with what scholars of different
degrees of ardour and assiduity have been known to do. And
let it be remembered, that he was now talking spontaneously,
and expressing his genuine sentiments ; whereas at other times
he might be induced, from his spirit of contradiction, or more
properly from his love of argumentative contest, to speak
lightly of his own application to study. It is pleasing to con¬
sider that the old gentleman's gloomy prophecy as to the irk-
someness of books to men of an advanced age, which is too
often fulfilled, was so far from being verified in Johnson, that
his ardour for literature never failed, and his last writings had
more ease and vivacity than any of his earlier productions.
He mentioned it to me now, for the first time, that he had
been distressed by melancholy, and for that reason had been
obliged to fly from study and meditation, to the dissipating
variety of life. Against melancholy he recommended constant
occupation of mind, a great deal of exercise, moderation in
eating and drinking, and especially to shun drinking at night.
He said melancholy people were apt to fly to intemperance
for relief, but that it sunk them much deeper in misery. He
observed, that labouring men, who work hard, and live spar¬
ingly, are seldom or never troubled with low spirits.
He again insisted on the duty of maintaining subordination
of rank. " Sir, I would no more deprive a nobleman of his
respect, than of his money. I consider myself as acting a part
in the great system of society, and I do to others as I would
have them to do to me. I would behave to a nobleman as I
should expect he would behave to me, were I a nobleman and
he Sam. Johnson. Sir, there is one Mrs. Macaulay,1 in this
town, a great republican. One day when I was at her house,
I put on a very grave countenance, and said to her, ' Madam,
I am now become a convert to your way of thinking. I am
convinced that all mankind are upon an equal footing; and to
1 This " one Mrs. Macaulay " was the same personage, who afterwards
made herself so much known as " the celebrated female historian."
./ET. 54. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 367
give you an unquestionable proof, Madam, that I am in
earnest, here is a very sensible, civil, well-behaved fellow
citizen, your footman ; I desire that he may be allowed to sit
down and dine with us.' I thus, Sir, showed her the absurdity
of the levelling doctrine. She has never liked me since. Sir,
your levellers wish to level down as far as themselves ; but
they cannot bear levelling up to themselves. They would
all have some people under them ; why not then have some
people above them ?" I mentioned a certain author who
disgusted me by his forwardness, and by showing no deference
to noblemen into whose company he was admitted. JOHNSON.
" Suppose a shoemaker should claim an equality with him, as
he does with a lord : how he would stare ! ' Why, Sir, do you
stare ? (says the shoemaker,) I do great service to society.
'Tis true, I am paid for doing it; but so are you, Sir : and, I
am sorry to say it, better paid than I am, for doing something
not so necessary. For mankind could do better without your
books, than without my shoes.' Thus, Sir, there would be a
perpetual struggle for precedence, were there no fixed invariable
rules for the distinction of rank, which creates no jealousy, as
it is allowed to be accidental."
He said, Dr. Joseph Warton was a very agreeable man, and
his " Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope " a very pleas¬
ing book. I wondered that he delayed so long to give us the
continuation of it.1 JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, I suppose he finds
himself a little disappointed, in not having been able to per¬
suade the world to be of his opinion as to Pope."
We have now been favoured with the concluding volume, in
which, to use a parliamentary expression, he has explained\ so
as not to appear quite so adverse to the opinion of the world,
concerning Pope, as was at first thought; and we must all
agree, that his work is a most valuable accession to English
literature.
A writer of deserved eminence being mentioned, Johnson
said, " Why, Sir, he is a man of good parts, but being originally
1 The first volume was published in 1756; the second, twenty-six years
after, in 1782.—Editor.
368
boswell's life of johnson.
1763.
poor, he has got a love of mean company, and low jocularity ;
a very bad thing, Sir. To laugh is good, as to talk is good.
But you ought no more to think it enough if you laugh, than
you are to think it enough if you talk. You may laugh in as
many ways as you talk ; and surely every way of talking that
is practised cannot be esteemed."
I spoke of Sir James Macdonald 1 as a young 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 Western
Islands of Scotland, to visit which he expressed a wish, that
then appeared to me a very romantic fancy, which I little
thought would be afterwards realised. 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 go to the Hebrides
with me, when I returned from my travels, unless some very
good companion should offer when I was absent, which he did
not think probable ; adding, " There are few people to whom
I take so much as to you." And when I talked of my leaving
England, he said with a very affectionate air, " My dear Bos-
1 A young baronet of great promise, whom Mr. Boswell called the Mar-
cellus of Scotland, and whom the concurrent testimony of his contem¬
poraries proves to have been a very extraordinary young man. He died
at Rome in 1766.—Croker.
" Were you and i together," says Hume in a letter to Adam Smith,
"we should shed tears for the death of poor Sir James Macdonald. We
could not possibly have suffered a greater loss than in that valuable young
man."—Dugald Stewart's Life of Adam Smith. Smith's Works, &c., vol.
v., p. 465. Lond., 1811.—Editor.
vet. 54. boswell's life of johnson. 369
well, 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 unquestion¬
able evidence of his tenderness and complacency, which some,
while they were forced to acknowledge his great powers, have
been so strenuous to deny.
He maintained, that a boy at school was the happiest of
human beings. 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 enter¬
tains any such apprehension, and is not confident that his
exalted fame is established upon a foundation never to be
shaken ?"
He this evening drank a bumper to Sir David Dalrymple,
" as a man of worth, a scholar, and a wit." " I have," said he,
" never heard of him, except from you ; but let him know my
opinion of him : for, as he does not show himself much in the
world, he should have the praise of the few who hear of him."
On Tuesday, July 26,1 found Mr. Johnson alone. It was a
very wet day, and I again complained of the disagreeable
effects of such weather. Johnson. "Sir, this is all imagina¬
tion, which physicians encourage ; for man lives in air, as a
fish lives in water ; so that, if the atmosphere press heavy from
above, there is an equal resistance from below. To be sure,
bad weather is hard upon people who are obliged to be abroad ;
and men cannot labour so well in the open air in bad weather,
as in good : but, Sir, a smith or tailor, whose work is within
doors, will surely do as much in rainy weather as in fair. Some
very delicate frames indeed may be affected by wet weather ;
but not common constitutions."
b b
370 ' BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1763.
We talked of the education of children; and I asked him
what he thought was best to teach them first. JOHNSON.
" Sir, it is no matter what you teach them first, any more than
what leg you shall put into your breeches first. Sir, you may
stand disputing which is best to put in first, but in the mean
time your breech is bare. Sir, while you are considering which
of two things you should teach your child first, another boy has
learnt them both."
On Thursday, July 28, we again supped in private at the
Turk's Head coffee-house. JOHNSON. " Swift has a higher
reputation than he deserves. His excellence is strong sense,
for his humour, though very well, is not remarkably good. I
doubt whether the ' Tale of a Tub' be his ; for he never owned
it, and it is much above his usual manner.1
" Thomson, I think, had as much of the poet about him as
most writers. Every thing appeared to him through the medium
of his favourite pursuit. He could not have viewed those two
candles burning but with a poetical eye."
"Has not 2 a great deal of wit, Sir?" JOHNSON.
" I do not think so, Sir. He is, indeed, continually attempting
wit, but he fails. And I have no more pleasure in hearing a
man attempting wit and failing, than in seeing a man trying
to leap over a ditch and tumbling into it."
He laughed heartily when I mentioned to him a saying of
his concerning Mr. Thomas Sheridan, which Foote took a
wicked pleasure to circulate. "Why, Sir, Sherry is dull,
naturally dull ; but it must have taken him a great deal of
1 This opinion was given by him more at large at a subsequent period.
See Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit., p. 32.
How could Johnson doubt that Swift was the author of the Tale of a Tub,
when, as he himself relates in his Life of Swift, " no other claimants can
be produced; and when Archbishop Sharpe and the Duchess of Somerset,
by showing it to Queen Anne, debarred Swift of a bishoprick, he did not
deny it?" We have, moreover, Swift's own acknowledgment of it, in his
letter to Ben. Tooke, the printer, June 29, 1710.—Croker.
2 There is no doubt that this blank must be filled with the name of Mr.
Burke. See Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit., p. 20; ibid.,
p. 211 and post, April 25, 1778.—Croker.
ALT. 54. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 371
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."
Talking of a young man 1 who was uneasy from thinking that,
he was very deficient in learning and knowledge, he said, " A
man has no reason to complain who holds a middle place, and
has many below him ; and perhaps he has not six of his years
above him ;—perhaps not one. Though he may not know any
thing perfectly, the general mass of knowledge that he has
acquired is considerable. Time will do for him all that is
wanting."
The conversation then took a philosophical turn. JOHNSON.
" Human experience, which is constantly contradicting theory,
is the great test of truth. A system built upon the discoveries
of a great many minds, is always of more strength than what is
produced by the mere workings of any one mind, which, of
itself, can do little. There is not so poor a book in the world
that would not be a prodigious effort were it wrought out en¬
tirely by a single mind, without the aid of prior investigators.
The French writers are superficial, because they are not
scholars, and so proceed upon the mere power of their own
minds; and we see how very little power they have."
" As to the Christian religion, Sir, besides the strong evi¬
dence which we have for it, there is a balance in its favour
from the number of great men who have been convinced of its
truth, after a serious consideration of the question. Grotius
was an acute man, a lawyer, a man accustomed to examine
evidence, and he was convinced. Grotius was not a recluse,
but a man of the world, who certainly had no bias to the side
1 No doubt Boswell himself, now about twenty-two.—Croker.
372
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
of religion. Sir Isaac Newton set out an infidel, and came to
be a very firm believer." 1
He this evening again recommended to me to perambulate
Spain.2 I said it would amuse him to get a letter from me
dated at Salamanca. JOHNSON. " I love the university of
Salamanca ; for when the Spaniards were in doubt as to the
lawfulness of their conquering America, the university of Sala¬
manca gave it as their opinion that it was not lawful." He
spoke this with great emotion, and with that generous warmth
which dictated the lines in his " London," against Spanish en¬
croachment.3
I expressed my opinion of my friend Derrick as but a poor
writer. JOHNSON. "To be sure, Sir, he is: but you are to
consider that his being a literary man has got for him all that
he has. It has made him King of Bath. Sir, he has nothing
to say for himself but that he is a writer. Had he not been a
writer, he must have been sweeping the crossings in the streets,
and asking halfpence from everybody that passed."
In justice, however, to the memory of Mr. Derrick, who was
my first tutor in the ways of London, and showed me the town
in all its variety of departments, both literary and sportive,
1 Where, Bishop Elrington asked, did Johnson learn this? It is true
that Dr. Horsley declined publishing some papers on religious subjects
which Newton left behind him—some have suspected that they were
tainted with Unitarianism; others (probably from a consideration of his
work on the Revelations) believed that they were in a strain of mysticism
not (in the opinion of his friends) worthy of so great a genius; and the re¬
cent publication of his two letters to Locke, in a style of infantine simpli¬
city (see Lord King's Life of Locke), gives additional colour to this latter
opinion; but for Johnson's assertion that he set out an infidel, there appears
no authority, and all the inferences are the other way.—Croker.
2 I fully intended to have followed advice of such weight; but having
staid much longer both in Germany and Italy than I proposed to do, and
having also visited Corsica, I found that I had exceeded the time allowed
me by my father, and hastened to France in my way homewards.
3 " 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 unclaimed by Spain?"
—Croker.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
373
the particulars of which Dr. Johnson advised me to put in
writing, it is proper to mention what Johnson, at a subsequent
period, said of him, both as a writer and an editor : " Sir, I
have often said, that if Derrick's letters had been written by-
one of a more established name, they would have been thought
very pretty letters." 1 And " I sent Derrick to Dryden's re¬
lations to gather materials for his life ; and I believe he got
all that I myself should have got." 2
Poor Derrick ! I remember him with kindness. Yet I can¬
not withhold from my readers a pleasant humorous sally
which could not have hurt him had he been alive, and now is
perfectly harmless. In his collection of poems, there is one
upon entering the harbour of Dublin, his native city, after a
long absence. It begins thus :—
" Eblana ! much loved city, hail!
Where first I saw the light of day."
And after a solemn reflection on his being " numbered with
forgotten dead," there is the following stanza:
" Unless my lines protract my fame,
And those who chance to read them, cry,
I knew him ! Derrick was his name,
In yonder tomb his ashes lie; "—
which was thus happily parodied by Mr. John Home, to whom
we owe the beautiful and pathetic tragedy of " Douglas : "
" Unless my deeds protract my fame,
And he who passes sadly sings,
I knew him ! Derrick was his name,
On yonder tree his carcase swings !"
I doubt much whether the amiable and ingenious author of
these burlesque lines will recollect them; for they were pro¬
duced extempore one evening while he and I were walking
together in the dining-room at Eglingtoune Castle, in 1760,
and I have never mentioned them to him since.
1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit., p. 104.
2 Ibid., p. 242.
374
boswell's life of johnson.
1763.
Johnson said once to me, " Sir, I honour Derrick for his pre¬
sence of mind. One night, when Floyd,1 another poor author,
was wandering about the streets in the night, he found Derrick
fast asleep upon a bulk : upon being suddenly waked, Derrick
started up, ' My dear Floyd, I am sorry to see you in this des¬
titute state : will you go home with me to my lodgings ?'"
I again begged his advice as to my method of study at
Utrecht. "Come," said he, "let us make a day of it. Let us
go down to Greenwich and dine, and talk of it there." The
following Saturday was fixed for this excursion.
As we walked along the Strand to-night, arm in arm, a
woman of the town accosted us, in the usual enticing manner.
"No, no, my girl," said Johnson, "it won't do." He,however,
did not treat her with harshness ; and we talked of the wretched
life of such women, and agreed, that much more misery than
happiness, upon the whole, is produced by illicit commerce be¬
tween the sexes.
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 lan¬
guages an essential requisite to a good education. johnson.
" Most certainly, Sir ; for those who know them have a very
great advantage over those who do not. Nay, Sir, it is won¬
derful 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." Johnson. "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
1 He published a biographical work, containing an account of eminent
writers, in three vols. 8vo.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
375
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 will-
ing to give all that he has, to get knowledge."
We landed at the Old Swan,1 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.
I talked of preaching, and of the great success which those
called methodists2 have. JOHNSON. "Sir, it is owing to
1 The erection of a new London Bridge may render it useful to observe,
that with the flood-tide it was impossible, and with the ebb-tide dangerous,
to pass through, or shoot, the arches of the old bridge : in the latter case,
prudent passengers, therefore, landed above the bridge, and walked to
some wharf below it.—Croker.
2 All who are acquainted with the history of religion, (the most impor¬
tant, surely, that concerns the human mind,) know that the appellation of
Methodists was first given to a society of students in the University of
Oxford, who, about the year 1730, were distinguished by an earnest and
methodical attention to devout exercises. This disposition of mind is not
a novelty, or peculiar to any sect, but has been, and still may be, found in
many Christians of every denomination. Johnson himself was, in a dig¬
nified manner, a methodist. In his Rambler, No. no, he mentions with
respect " the whole discipline of regulated pietyand in his Prayers and
Meditations, many instances occur of his anxious examination into his
spiritual state. That this religious earnestness, and in particular an obser¬
vation of the influence of the Holy Spirit, has sometimes degenerated into
folly, and sometimes been counterfeited for base purposes, cannot be denied.
But it is not, therefore, fair to decry it when genuine. The principal argu¬
ment, in reason and good sense, against methodism is, that it tends to
debase human nature, and prevent the generous exertions of goodness, by
an unworthy supposition that God will pay no regard to them; although
it is positively said in the scriptures, that he "will reward every man
according to his works." But I am happy to have it in my power to do
justice to those whom it is the fashion to ridicule, without any knowledge
of their tenets; and this I can do by quoting a passage from one of their
best apologists, Mr. Milner, who thus expresses their doctrine upon this
subject:—"Justified by faith, renewed in his faculties, and constrained by
the love of Christ, the believer moves in the sphere of love and gratitude,
and all his duties flow more or less from this principle. And though they
376
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
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
principle of duty, when it is suited to their congregations ; a
practice, for which they will be praised by men of sense. To
insist 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 favourite
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 :
Struck with the seat that 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.
Buchanan, he said, was a very fine poet; and observed,
that he was the first who complimented a lady, by ascribing to
her the different perfections of the heathen goddesses ;1 but
are accumulating for him in heaven a treasure of bliss proportioned to his
faithfulness and activity, and it is by no means inco7isistent with his prin¬
ciples to feel the force of this consideration, yet love itself sweetens every
duty to his mind; and he thinks there is no absurdity in his feeling the
love of God as a grand commanding principle of his life."—Essays on
Religious Subjects, &c., by Joseph Milner, A.M., Master of the Grammar
School of Kingston-upon-Hull, 1789, p. 11.
1 Epigram, Lib. II. " In Elizabeth, Angliae Reg."—I suspect that the
author's memory here deceived him, and that Johnson said, "the first
modern poet;" for there is a well-known Epigram in the Anthologia,
containing this kind of eulogy.—Malone.
ALT. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
377
that Johnstone1 improved upon this, by making his lady, at the
same time, free from their defects.
He dwelt upon Buchanan's elegant verses to Mary Queen
of Scots, Nympha Caledonia, &c., and spoke with enthusiasm
of the beauty of Latin verse. " All the modern languages,"
said he, " cannot furnish so melodious a line as—
' Formosam resonare doces Amarillida silvas"2
Afterwards he entered upon the business of the day, which
was to give me his advice as to a course of study. And here I
am to mention, with much regret, that my record of what he
said is miserably scanty. I recollect with admiration an
animating blaze of eloquence, which roused every intellectual
power in me to the highest pitch, but must have dazzled me
so much, that my memory could not preserve the substance of
his discourse; for the note which I find of it is no more than
this :—" He ran over the grand scale of human knowledge ;
advised me to select some particular branch to excel in, but
to acquire a little of every kind." The defect of my minutes
will be fully supplied by a long letter upon the subject, which
he favoured me with, after I had been some time at Utrecht,
and which my readers will have the pleasure to peruse in its
proper place.
We walked in the evening in Greenwich Park. He asked
me, I suppose by 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."
I am aware that many of my readers may censure my want
of taste. Let me, however, shelter myself under the authority
of a very fashionable baronet3 in the brilliant world, who, on
1 Arthur Johnstone, born near Aberdeen in 1587, an elegant Latin poet.
His principal works are a volume of epigrams (in which is to be found that
to which Dr. Johnson alludes), and a Latin paraphrase of the Psalms. He
died at Oxford in 1641.—Croker.
2 Virgil., Eclog., i. 5.
3 My friend Sir Michael Le Fleming, of Rydall in Westmoreland. This
378 boswell's life of johnson. 1763.
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 playhouse."
We staid 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 daytime.
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,1
of the Commons, told me, that when he complained of a head-
ach in the post-chaise, as they were travelling together to
Scotland, Johnson treated him in the same manner: "At
your age, Sir, I had no headach." 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 neigh¬
bours, 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 sick¬
ness, we readily sympathise with the sufferings of others.
We concluded the day at the Turk's Head coffee-house
very socially. He was pleased to listen to a particular
account which I gave him of my family, and of its hereditary
gentleman, with all his experience of sprightly and elegant life, inherits,
with the beautiful family domain, no inconsiderable 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."
Sir Michael Le Fleming died of an apoplectic fit, May 19, 1806, while
conversing, at the Admiralty, with Lord Grey [then First Lord].—Malone.
1 Afterwards Lord Stowell, who accompanied Dr. Johnson from New¬
castle to Edinburgh in 1773.—Croker.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
379
estate, as to the extent and population of which he asked
questions, and made calculations ; recommending, at the same
time, a liberal kindness to the tenantry, as people over whom
the proprietor was placed by Providence. He took delight in
hearing my description of the romantic seat of my ancestors.
"I must be there, Sir," said he, "and we will live in the old
castle ; and if there is not a room in it remaining, we will
build one." I was highly flattered, but could scarcely indulge
a hope that Auchinleck would indeed be honoured by his pre¬
sence, and celebrated by a description, as it afterwards was, in
his "Journey to the Western Islands."1
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
had heard a woman preach. Johnson. " Sir, a woman preach¬
ing 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 honour 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."
I mentioned an imprudent publication, by a certain friend
of his, at an early period of life, and asked him if he thought
it would hurt him. Johnson. "No, Sir ; not much. It may,
perhaps, be mentioned at an election." 2
1 Pp. 377-9. First Edition. London, 1775. A Journey to the Western
Islands of Scotland.
2 This probably alludes to Mr. Burke's Vindication of Natural Society,
a work published in 1756, in a happy imitation of Lord Bolingbroke's style,
and in an ironical adoption of his principles : the whole was so well done,
380
boswell's life of johnson.
1763.
I had now made good my title to be a privileged man, and
was carried by him in the evening to drink tea with Miss
Williams, whom, though under the misfortune of having lost
her sight, I found to be agreeable in conversation ; for she
had a variety of literature, and expressed herself well; but
her peculiar value was the intimacy in which she had long
lived with Johnson, by which she was well acquainted with
his habits, and knew how to lead him on to talk.
After tea he carried me to what he called his walk, which
was a long narrow paved court in the neighbourhood, over¬
shadowed by some trees. There we sauntered a considerable
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 away 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 Wednesday, August 3, we had our last social evening
at the Turk's Head coffee-house, before my setting out for
foreign parts. I had the misfortune, before we parted, to
irritate him unintentionally. I mentioned to him how com¬
mon it was in the world to tell absurd stories of him, and to
ascribe to him very strange sayings. johnson. "What do
they make me say, Sir ? " Boswell. " Why, Sir, as an in¬
stance very strange indeed, (laughing heartily as I spoke,)
David Hume told me, you said that you would stand before
a battery of cannon to restore the Convocation to its full
powers." Little did I apprehend that he had actually said
that it at first passed as a genuine work of Lord Bolingbroke's, and subse¬
quently as a serious and (as in style and imagery it certainly is) splendid
exposition of the principles of one of his disciples. Lord Chesterfield and
Bishop Warburton are stated to have been so deceived; and it would
seem, from the passage in the text, that Johnson and Boswell were in the
same error. In 1765, Mr. Burke reprinted this piece, with a preface, in
which he throws off altogether the mask of irony. Mr. Boswell calls him
a friend of Johnson's, for he himself had not yet met Mr. Burke.— Croker.
^T. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
331
this : but I was soon convinced of my error; for, with a deter¬
mined look, he thundered out, " And would I not, Sir ? Shall
the Presbyterian kirk of Scotland have its General Assembly,
and the Church of England be denied its Convocation ? " He
was walking up and down the room, while I told him the
anecdote ; but when he uttered this explosion of high-church
zeal, he had come close to my chair, and his eyes flashed with
indignation. I bowed to the storm, and diverted the force of
it, by leading him to expatiate on the influence which religion
derived from maintaining the church with great external re¬
spectability.
I must not omit to mention that he this year wrote " The
Life of Ascham," f and the Dedication to the Earl of Shaftes¬
bury, f prefixed to the edition of that writer's English works,
published by Mr. Bennet.1
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
1 Johnson was, in fact, the editor of this work, as appears from a letter
of Mr. T. Davies to the Rev. Edm. Bettesworth:—" Reverend Sir,—I take
the liberty to send you Roger Ascham's Works in English. Though Mr.
Bennet's name is in the title, the editor was in reality Mr. Johnson, the
author of the Rambler, who wrote the life of the author, and added several
notes. Mr. Johnson gave it to Mr. Bennet, for his advantage," &c.—
Croker.
382 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1763.
more." In the afternoon the gentlewoman talked violently
against the Roman Catholics, and of the horrors of the In¬
quisition. To the utter astonishment of all the passengers
but myself, who knew that he could talk upon any side of a
question, he defended the Inquisition, and maintained, that
" false doctrine should be checked on its first appearance;
that the civil power should unite with the church in punishing
those who dare to attack the established religion, and that
such only were punished by the Inquisition." He had in his
pocket " Pomponius Mela de Situ Orbisin which he read
occasionally, and seemed very intent upon ancient geography.
Though by no means niggardly, 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 coach¬
man, 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.
He talked of Mr. Blacklock's 1 poetry, so far as it was de¬
scriptive of visible objects ; and observed, that, " as its author
had the misfortune to be blind, we may be absolutely sure
that such passages are combinations of what he has remem¬
bered of the works of other writers who could see. That
foolish fellow, Spence,2 has laboured to explain philosophically
how Blacklock may have done, by means of his own faculties,
what it is impossible he should do. The solution, as I have
given it, is plain. Suppose, I know a man to be so lame that
he is absolutely incapable to move himself, and I find him in
1 Dr. Thomas Blacklock was born in 1721 : he totally lost his sight by
the small-pox when he was six months old, but was, nevertheless, a de¬
scriptive poet. He died in 1791.
2 Joseph Spence wrote an Account of the Life, Character, and Poems
of Mr. Blacklock. 8vo. London, 1754.—Editor.
^ET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
383
a different room from that in which I left him ; shall I puzzle
myself with idle conjectures, that, perhaps, his nerves have by
some unknown change all at once become effective ? No, Sir,
it is clear how he got into a different room ; he was carried."
Having stopped a night at Colchester, Johnson talked of
that town with veneration, for having stood a siege for
Charles I. The Dutchman alone now remained with us. He
spoke English tolerably well; and, thinking to recommend
himself to us by expatiating on the superiority of the criminal
jurisprudence of this country over that of Holland, he in¬
veighed against the barbarity of putting an accused person to
the torture, in order to force a confession. But Johnson was
as ready for this, as for the Inquisition. " Why, Sir, you do
not, I find, understand the law of your own country. To tor¬
ture in Holland is considered as a favour to an accused person ;
for no man is put to the torture there unless there is as much
evidence against him as would amount to conviction in Eng¬
land. An accused person among you, therefore, has one
chance more to escape punishment, than those who are tried
among us." 1
At supper this night he talked of good eating with un¬
common 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 care¬
fully ; 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, 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 " Ram¬
bler" 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
1 " By a law of Holland, the criminal's confession is essential to a capital
punishment; no other evidence being sufficient, and if he insists on his
innocence, he is tortured till he pronounces the words of confession."—
Karnes's History of Man, b. iii. sec. 12.—Croker, 1835.
384
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
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 rivetted 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 in¬
dulged with such intenseness, that, while in the act of eating,
the veins of his forehead swelled, and generally a strong per¬
spiration 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 rigidly abstemious, was not a
temperate man either in eating or drinking. He could refrain,
but he could not use moderately. He told me, that he had
fasted two days without inconvenience, 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 discernment 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 Honourable
Alexander Gordon's) with a warmth of expression which might
have done honour to more important subjects. " As for Mac-
laurin's imitation of a made dish, it was a wretched attempt." 1
He about the same time was so much displeased with the
performances of a nobleman's French cook, that he exclaimed
1 On returning to Edinburgh, after the tour to the Hebrides, he dined
one day at Mr. Maclaurin's, and supped at the Honourable Alexander
Gordon's: the former, son of the celebrated mathematician, became in
1787 a Lord of Session, by the title of Lord Dreghorn; the latter was
third son of the second Earl of Aberdeen, and in 1788 he also was made
a Lord of Session, and took the title of Lord Rockville.—Croker.
Ml. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
385
with vehemence, " I'd 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 neighbour and
landlord in Bolt Court, Mr. Allen,1 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 CooksT
While we were left by ourselves, after the Dutchman had
gone to bed, Dr. Johnson talked of that studied behaviour
which many have recommended and practised. He disap¬
proved of it; and said, " I never considered whether I should
be a grave man, or a merry man, but just let inclination, for
the time, have its course."
He flattered me with some hopes that he would, in the
course of the following summer, come over to Holland, and
accompany me in a tour through the Netherlands.
I teased him with fanciful apprehensions of unhappiness. A
moth having fluttered round the candle, and burnt itself, he
laid hold of this little incident to admonish me ; saying, with a
sly look, and in a solemn but a quiet tone, " That creature was
its own tormentor, and I believe its name was BOSWELL."
Next day we got to Harwich to dinner ; and my passage in
the packet boat to Helvoetsluys being secured, and my bag-
1 Edward Allen was a very excellent printer in Bolt Court. His office
united to Johnson's dwelling. He died in 1780.—Nichols.
C C
386 boswell's life of johnson. 1763.
gage 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 your¬
self 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 every where ; but, I think, most remark¬
able among the French, of which, all who have travelled in
France must have been struck with innumerable instances.
We went and looked at the church, and having gone into it
and walked up to the altar, Johnson, whose piety was constant
and fervent, sent me to my knees, saying, "Now that you are
going»to leave your native country, recommend yourself to the
protection of your Creator and Redeemer."
After we came out of the church, we stood talking for some
time together of Bishop Berkeley's ingenious sophistry to
prove the non-existence of matter, and that everything in the
universe is merely ideal. I observed, that though we are
satisfied his doctrine is not true, it is impossible to refute it.
I never shall forget the alacrity with which Johnson answered,
striking his foot with mighty force against a large stone, till
he rebounded from it, " I refute it thus."1 This was a stout
exemplification of the first truths of Pere Buffier,2 or the ori¬
ginal principles of Reid and of Beattie; without admitting
1 Dr. Johnson seems to have been imperfectly acquainted with Berkeley's
doctrine; as his experiment only proves that we have the sensation of
solidity, which Berkeley did not deny. He admitted that we had sensa¬
tions or ideas that are usually called sensible qualities, One of which is
solidity: he only denied the existence of matter—i.e. an inert senseless
substance, in which they are supposed to subsist. Johnson's exemplifica¬
tion concurs with the vulgar notion, that solidity is matter.—Kearney.
2 Claude Buffier, born in Poland of French parents, 1640, was brought
early in life to France and naturalized as a Frenchman. At nineteen he
became a member of the Society of Jesus, and passed the remainder of his
life devoted to philosophy and teaching, in the Jesuit College at Paris.
He died 1737. His chief work, much commended by Reid — Works,
Hamilton's edition, p. 468—the Traite des verites premieres, was first pub¬
lished in 1724 and afterwards in his Cours des Sciences, fol. 1732.—Editor.
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
387
which, we can no more argue in metaphysics, than we can
argue in mathematics without axioms. To me it is not con¬
ceivable how Berkeley can be answered by pure reasoning ;
but I know that the nice and difficult task was to have been
undertaken by one of the most luminous minds1 of the present
age, had not politics " turned him from calm philosophy aside."
What an admirable display of subtlety, united with brilliance,
might his contending with Berkeley have afforded us ! How
must we, when we reflect on the loss of such an intellectual
feast, regret that he should be characterised as the man,—
" Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind ? " 2
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 forget 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.
Utrecht seeming at first very dull to me, after the animated
scenes of London, my spirits were grievously affected; and I
wrote to Johnson a plaintive and desponding letter, to which
he paid no regard. Afterwards, when I had acquired a firmer
tone of mind, I wrote him a second letter, expressing much
anxiety to hear from him. At length I received the following
epistle, which was of important service to me, and, I trust, will
be so to many others.
A. M. M. BOSWELL,
A la Cour de /'Emp'ereur, Utrecht.
"London, Dec. 8, 1763.
" Dear Sir,
" You are not to think yourself forgotten, or criminally ne¬
glected, that you have had yet no letter from me. I love to see my
1 Mr. Burke.—Croker. 2 Goldsmith's Retaliation.
388
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1763.
friends, to hear from them, to talk to them, and to talk of them; but
it is not without a considerable effort of resolution that I prevail upon
myself to write. I would not, however, gratify my own indolence
by the omission of any important duty, or any office of real kindness.
"To tell you that I am or am not well, that I have or have not
been in the country, that I drank your health in the room in which
we last sat together, and that your acquaintance continue to speak of
you with their former kindness, topics with which those letters are
commonly filled which are written only for the sake of writing, I
seldom shall think worth communicating; but if I can have it in my
power to calm any harassing disquiet, to excite any virtuous desire,
to rectify any important opinion, or fortify any generous resolution,
you need not doubt but I shall at least wish to prefer the pleasure of
gratifying a friend much less esteemed than yourself, before the
gloomy calm of idle vacancy. Whether I shall easily arrive at an
exact punctuality of correspondence, I cannot tell. I shall, at pre¬
sent, expect that you will receive this in return for two which I have
had from you. The first, indeed, gave me an account so hopeless
of the state of your mind, that it hardly admitted or deserved an
answer; by the second I was much better pleased; and the pleasure
will still be increased by such a narrative of the progress of your
studies, as may evince the continuance of an equal and rational
application of your mind to some useful inquiry.
" You will, perhaps, wish to ask, what study I would recommend.
I shall not speak of theology, because it ought not to be considered
as a question whether you shall endeavour to know the will of God.
" I shall, therefore, consider only such studies as we are at liberty
to pursue or to neglect; and of these I know not how you will make
a better choice, than by studying the civil law as your father advises,
and the ancient languages as you had determined for yourself: at
least resolve, while you remain in any settled residence, to spend a
certain number of hours every day amongst your books. The dissi¬
pation of thought of which you complain, is nothing more than the
vacillation of a mind suspended between different motives, and
changing its direction as any motive gains or loses strength. If you
can but kindle in your mind any strong desire, if you can but keep
predominant any wish for some particular excellence or attainment,
the gusts of imagination will break away, without any effect upon your
conduct, and commonly without any traces left upon the memory.
" There lurks, perhaps, in every human heart a desire of distinc¬
tion, which inclines every man first to hope, and then to believe, that
JET. 54.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
389
nature has given him something peculiar to himself. This vanity
makes one mind nurse aversion, and another actuate desires, till they
rise by art much above their original state of power; and, as affecta¬
tion in time improves to habit, they at last tyrannize over him who
at first encouraged them only for show. Every desire is a viper in
the bosom, who, while he was chill, was harmless; but when warmth
gave him strength, exerted it in poison. You know a gentleman,
who, when first he set his foot in the gay world, as he prepared him¬
self to whirl in the vortex of pleasure, imagined a total indifference and
universal negligence to be the most agreeable concomitants of youth,
and the strongest indication of an airy temper and a quick apprehen¬
sion. Vacant to every object, and sensible of every impulse, he
thought that all appearance of diligence would deduct something
from the reputation of genius; and hoped that he should appear to
attain, amidst all the ease of carelessness, and all the tumult of diver¬
sion, that knowledge and those accomplishments which mortals of
the common fabric obtain only by mute abstraction and solitary
drudgery. He tried this scheme of life awhile, was made weary of it
by his sense and his virtue; he then wished to return to his studies;
and finding long habits of idleness and pleasure harder to be cured
than he expected, still willing to retain his claim to some extraor¬
dinary prerogatives, resolved the common consequences of irregularity
into an unalterable decree of destiny, and concluded that Nature had
originally formed him incapable of rational employment.
" Let all such fancies, illusive and destructive, be banished hence¬
forward from your thoughts for ever. Resolve, and keep your resolu¬
tion : choose, and pursue your choice. If you spend this day in
study, you will find yourself still more able to study to-morrow; not
that you are to expect that you shall at once obtain a complete vic¬
tory. Depravity is not very easily overcome. Resolution will some¬
times relax, and diligence will sometimes be interrupted; but let no
accidental surprise or deviation, whether short or long, dispose you
to despondency. Consider these failings as incident to all mankind.
Begin again where you left off, and endeavour to avoid the seduce-
ments that prevailed over you before.
" This, my dear Boswell, is advice which, perhaps, has been often
given you, and given you without effect. But this advice, if you will
not take from others, you must take from your own reflections, if you
purpose to do the duties of the station to which the bounty of Provi¬
dence has called you.
" Let me have a long letter from you as soon as you can. I hope
390
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1764.
you continue your journal, and enrich it with many observations upon
the country in which you reside. It will be a favour if you can get
me any books in the Frisick language, and can inquire how the poor
are maintained in the Seven Provinces. I am, dear Sir, your most
affectionate servant, "Sam. Johnson."
I am sorry to observe, that neither in my own minutes, nor
in my letters to Johnson which have been preserved by him,
can I find any information how the poor are maintained in the
Seven Provinces. But I shall extract from one of my letters
what I learnt concerning the other subject of his curiosity.
" I have made all possible inquiry with respect to the Frisick lan¬
guage, and find that it has been less cultivated than any other of the
northern dialects; a certain proof of which is their deficiency of
books. Of the old Frisick there are no remains, except some ancient
laws preserved by Schotanus in his ' Beschryvinge van die Heerlykheid
van Fries land:' and his lHistoria Frisica.' I have not yet been able
to find these books. Professor Trotz, who formerly was of the Uni¬
versity of Vranyken in Friesland, and is at present preparing an
edition of all the Frisick laws, gave me this information. Of the
modern Frisick, or what is spoken by the boors of this day, I have
procured a specimen. It is ' Gisbert Japix's Rymelerie] which is the
only book that they have. It is amazing that they have no transla¬
tion of the bible, no treatises of devotion, nor even any of the ballads
and story-books which are so agreeable to country people. You shall
have Japix by the first convenient opportunity. I doubt not to pick
up Schotanus. Mynheer Trotz has promised me his assistance."
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. His friend Bennet Langton, it
will not be doubted, did every thing in his power to make the
place agreeable to so illustrious a guest; and the elder Mr.
Langton and his lady, being fully capable of understanding
his value, were not wanting in attention. He, however, told
me, that old Mr. Langton, though a man of considerable learn¬
ing, had so little allowance to make for his occasional " laxity
of talk," that because in the course of discussion he sometimes
mentioned what might be said in favour of the peculiar tenets
of the Romish church, he went to his grave believing him to
be of that communion.
^:T. 55.
boswell's life of johnson.
391
Johnson, during his stay at Langton, had the advantage of
a good library, and saw several gentlemen of the neighbour¬
hood. I have obtained from Mr. Langton the following
particulars of this period.
He was now fully convinced that he could not have been
satisfied with a country living ; for, talking of a respectable
clergyman in Lincolnshire, he observed, "This man, Sir, fills
up the duties of his life well. I approve of him, but could
not imitate him."
To a lady who endeavoured to vindicate herself from blame
for neglecting social attention to worthy neighbours, by say¬
ing " I would go to them if it would do them any good he
said, " What good, Madam, do you expect to have in your
power to do them ? It is showing them respect, and that is
doing them good."
So socially accommodating was he, that once, when Mr.
Langton and he were driving together in a coach, and Mr.
Langton complained of being sick, he insisted that they
should go out, and sit on the back of it in the open air, which
they did. And being sensible how strange the appearance
must be, observed, that a countryman whom they saw in a
field would probably be thinking, " If these two madmen
should come down, what would become of me ? "
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.1 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 Haw¬
kins. They met at the Turk's Head, in Gerrard Street, Soho,
one evening in every week, at seven, and generally continued
their conversation till a pretty late hour. This club has been
gradually increased to its present [1791] number, thirty-five.
After about ten years, instead of supping weekly, it was re-
1 See Appendix to this volume on the Club.—Editor.
392
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1764.
solved 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),1 the following persons, now dead, were
members of it: Mr. Dunning (afterwards Lord Ashburton),
Mr. Samuel Dyer, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Shipley, Bishop of St.
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 Dro-
more, 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 Hawkins2 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 their reception was such that he never came
again.3
1 The second edition is here spoken of.—Editor.
2 Life of Johnson, p. 425 (note).
3 From Sir Joshua Reynolds.
The knight having refused to pay his portion of the reckoning for supper,
because he usually ate no supper at home, Johnson observed, " Sir John,
Sir, is a very unclubable man."—Burney.
Hawkins was not knighted till October, 1772, long after he had left the
club. Burney, in relating the story, puts the mine pro tunc.—Croker.
&T. 55- BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 393
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 admis¬
sion 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 after¬
wards so managed matters, that he was never formally pro¬
posed, and, by consequence, never admitted."1
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 Rey¬
nolds was speaking of it to Garrick. " I like it much," said
he ; "I think I shall be of you." When Sir Joshua mentioned
this to Dr. Johnson, he was much displeased with the actor's
conceit. "Hell 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."2 However, when Garrick was regularly
proposed some time afterwards, Johnson, though he had taken
a momentary offence at his arrogance, warmly and kindly sup¬
ported him, and he was accordingly elected,3 was a most agree¬
able member, and continued to attend our meetings to the
time of his death.
Mrs. Piozzi4 has also given a similar misrepresentation of
1 Ibid., p. 425.
2 Malone says: " I mentioned this anecdote to Mr. Boswell, and he
has introduced it into his Life of Johnson." (Maloniana.)—Prior's Life of
Malone, i860.—Editor.
3 Mr. Garrick was elected in March, 1773.—Note in Third Edition, vol.
i., p. 436.—Editor.
4 Letters to and from Dr. Johnson, vol. ii., p. 387.
The anecdote as given in the passage only partially quoted by Boswell,
seems to exonerate Mrs. Piozzi from deliberate misrepresentation, and also
exhibits Johnson's conduct in a more amiable light. "When Garrick was
talked of as a candidate for admission into the Literary Club—' If he does
apply,' says our Doctor to Mr. Thrale, ' I'll black-ball him.' 'Who, Sir?
Mr. Garrick, your friend, your companion—black-ball him/' 'Why,
Sir, I love my little David dearly, better than all or any of his flatterers
do ; but surely one ought to sit in a society like ours,
"' Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player.'"
—Editor.
394
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1764.
Johnson's treatment of Garrick in this particular, as if he
had used these contemptuous expressions : " If Garrick does
apply, I'll blackball him.—Surely, one ought to sit in a society
like ours,
' Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player.'"
I am happy to be enabled by such unquestionable authority
as that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, as well as from my own know¬
ledge, to vindicate at once the heart of Johnson and the social
merit of Garrick.
In this year, except what he may have done in revising
Shakspeare, we do not find that he laboured much in litera¬
ture. He wrote a review of Grainger's " Sugar Cane," a poem,
in the " London Chronicle." He told me that Dr. Percy wrote
the greatest part of this review; but, I imagine, he did not
recollect it distinctly, for it appears to be mostly, if not alto¬
gether, his own. He also wrote, in the " Critical Review," an
accountf of Goldsmith's excellent poem, "The Traveller."
The ease and independence to which he had at last attained
by royal munificence, increased his natural indolence. In his
" Meditations," [p. 53] he thus accuses himself:—
"Good Friday, April 20, 1764.—I have made no reformation;
I have lived totally useless, more sensual in thought, and more
addicted to wine and meat."
And next morning he thus feelingly complains :—
" My indolence, since my last reception of the sacrament, has sunk
into grosser sluggishness, and my dissipation spread into wilder negli¬
gence. My thoughts have been clouded with sensuality; and, except
th?t from the beginning of this year I have, in some measure, fore-
borne excess of strong drink, my appetites have predominated over
my reason. A kind of strange oblivion has overspread me, so that
I know not what has become of the last year; and perceive that
incidents and intelligence pass over me without leaving any im¬
pression."
He then solemnly says, " This is not the life to which heaven
is promised and he earnestly resolves an amendment.
JET. 55.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
395
It was his custom to observe certain days with a pious ab¬
straction : viz., New Year's Day, the day of his wife's death,
Good Friday, Easter Day, 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 re¬
solve aright, and to keep my resolutions, for Jesus Christ's sake.
Amen."
Such a tenderness of conscience, such a fervent desire of
improvement, will rarely be found. It is, surely, not decent
in those who are hardened in indifference to spiritual improve¬
ment, 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 him¬
self, 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 utter¬
ing pious ejaculations ; for fragments of the Lord's Prayer
have been distinctly overheard.1 His friend, Mr. Thomas
Davies, of whom Churchill says,
" That Davies hath a very pretty wife
when Dr. Johnson muttered "lead us not into temptation"—
1 It used to be imagined at Mr. Thrale's, when Johnson retired to a
window or corner of the room, by perceiving his lips in motion, and hear¬
ing a murmur without audible articulation, that he was praying; but this
396 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1764.
used with waggish and gallant humour to whisper Mrs. Davies,
"You, my dear, are the cause of this."
He had another particularity, of which none of his friends
ever 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, or at least
so as that either his right or his left foot (I am not certain
which) should constantly make the first actual movement when
he came close to the door or passage. Thus I conjecture: for
I have, upon innumerable occasions, observed 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 abstraction, 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 Sky.1 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.2
was not always the case, for I was once, perhaps unperceived by him,
writing at a table, so near the place of his retreat, that I heard him repeat¬
ing some lines in an ode of Horace, over and over again, as if by iteration
to exercise the organs of speech, and fix the ode in his memory:
" Audiet cives accuisse ferrum
Quo graves Persce melius perirent,
Audiet pugnas . . . ."
It was during the American war.—Burney.
1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit., p. 316.
2 His conduct at Mr. Bankes's, see ante, p. 108, seems something of
the same kind. Dr. Fisher, Master of the Charter House, told me, that
in walking on the quadrangle of University College, he would not step on
the juncture of the stones, but carefully on the centre : but this is a trick
which many persons have when sauntering on any kind of tessellation.
Dr. Fisher adds, that he would sometimes take a phial to the college pump,
-*T. 55.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
397
That the most minute singularities which belonged to him,
and made very observable parts of his appearance and manner,
may not be omitted, it is requisite to mention, that, while talk¬
ing, or even musing as he sat in his chair, he commonly held
his head to one ^ide towards his right shoulder, and shook it
in a tremulous manner, moving his body backwards and for¬
wards, 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 some¬
times protruding it against his upper gums in front, as if pro¬
nouncing quickly, under his breath, too, too, too: all this
accompanied sometimes with a thoughtful look, but more fre¬
quently with a smile. Generally, when he had concluded 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 re¬
lief to his lungs; and seemed in him to be a contemptuous
and alternately fill and empty it, without any object that Dr. Fisher could
discern. " Mr. Sheridan," says Mr. Whyte, " at one time lived in Bedford
Street, opposite Henrietta Street, which ranges with the south side of
Covent Garden, so that the prospect lies open the whole way, free of inter¬
ruption. We were standing together at the drawing-room window, expect¬
ing Johnson, who was to dine there. Mr. Sheridan asked me, could I see
the length of the Garden? 'No, Sir.' [Mr. Whyte was short-sighted.]
' Take out your opera-glass, Johnson is coming ; you may know him by
his gait.' I perceived him at a good distance, working along with a pecu¬
liar solemnity of deportment, and an awkward sort of measured step. At
that time the broad flagging at each side the streets was not universally
adopted, and stone posts were in fashion, to prevent the annoyance of
carriages. Upon every post, as he passed along, I could observe, he de¬
liberately laid his hand; but missing one of them when he had got at some
distance, he seemed suddenly to recollect himself, and immediately return¬
ing back, carefully performed the accustomed ceremony, and resumed his
former course, not omitting one till he gained the crossing. This, Mr.
Sheridan assured me, however odd it might appear, was his constant prac¬
tice ; but why or wherefore he could not inform me."—Whyte, Miscellanea
Nova, p. 49.—Croker.
398
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1764.
mode of expression, as if he had made the arguments of his
opponent fly like chaff before the wind.
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 candour
to quote what I have offered in my defence.
He was for some time in the summer at Easton Maudit,
Northamptonshire, on a visit to the Rev. Dr. Percy, now
Bishop of Dromore.1 Whatever dissatisfaction he felt at what
he considered as a slow progress in intellectual improvement,
we find that his heart was tender, and his affections warm, as
appears from the following very kind letter:—
TO JOSHUA REYNOLDS, ESQ.,
In Leicester Fields, London.
" Dear Sir,
" I did not hear of your sickness till I heard likewise of your
recovery, and therefore escape that part of your pain, which every
man must feel, to whom you are known as you are known to me.
" Having had no particular account of your disorder, I know not
in what state it has left you. If the amusement of my company can
exhilarate the languor of a slow recovery, I will not delay a day to
come to you; for I know not how I can so effectually promote my
own pleasure as by pleasing you, or my own interest as by preserving
you, in whom, if I should lose you, I should lose almost the only man
whom I call a friend.
" Pray, let me hear of you from yourself, or from dear Miss Rey¬
nolds.2 Make my compliments to Mr. Mudge. I am, dear Sir, your
most affectionate and most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
" At the Rev. Mr. Percy's, at Easton
Maudit, Northamptonshire, (by
Castle Ashby,) Aug. 19, 1764."
1 He spent parts of the months of June, July, and August with me,
accompanied by his friend Mrs. Williams, whom Mrs. Percy found a very
agreeable companion.—Percy.
2 Sir Joshua's sister, for whom Johnson had a particular affection, and
JET. 56. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 399
Early in the year 1765 he paid a short visit to the Univer¬
sity of Cambridge, with his friend Mr. Beauclerk. There is a
lively picturesque account of his behaviour on this visit in the
"Gentleman's Magazine " for March, 1785, being an extract
of a letter from the late Dr. John Sharp.1 The two following
sentences are very characteristical:—" He drank his large po¬
tations of tea[with me, interrupted by many an indignant con¬
tradiction, and many a noble sentiment." " Several persons
got into his company the last evening at Trinity, where, about
twelve, he began to be very great; stripped poor Mrs. Ma-
caulay to the very skin, then gave her for his toast, and drank
her in two bumpers."
The strictness of his self-examination, and scrupulous Chris¬
tian humility, appear in his pious meditation on Easter-day
this year. " I purpose again to partake of the blessed sacra¬
ment ; yet when I consider how vainly I have hitherto resolved,
at this annual commemoration of my Saviour's death, to regu¬
late my life by his laws, I am almost afraid to renew my
resolutions."
The concluding words are very remarkable, and show that
he laboured under a severe depression of spirits. " Since the
last Easter I have reformed no evil habit; my time has been
unprofitably spent, and seems as a dream that has left nothing
behind. My memory grows confused, and I know not how the
days pass over me. Good Lord, deliver me!" 3
No man was more gratefully sensible of any kindness done
to him than Johnson. There is a little circumstance in his
diary this year, which shows him in a very amiable light.
to whom he wrote many letters which I have seen, and which I am sorry
her too nice delicacy will not permit to be published. [Note introduced
in the second edition, vol. i., p. 451.]
Those letters were communicated by Mr. J. F. Palmer, the grand-nephew
of Sir Joshua and Miss Reynolds, to Mr. Croker, and will be given in the
Appendices to this and the other volumes of this edition.—Editor.
1 Dr. John Sharp, grandson of Sharp, Archbishop of York, and son of
the Archdeacon of Durham, in which preferment he succeeded his father.
He was a member of Trinity College, Cambridge. He died in 1792, aged
sixty-nine.—Croker. 2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 55.
400
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1765.
" July 2. I paid Mr. Simpson ten guineas, which he had formerly-
lent me in my necessity, and for which Tetty expressed her grati¬
tude."
" July 8. I lent Mr. Simpson ten guineas more."
Here he had a pleasing opportunity of doing the same kind¬
ness to an old friend, which he had formerly received from
him. Indeed his liberality as to money was very remarkable.
The next article in his diary is, "July 16th, I received seventy-
five pounds.1 Lent Mr. Davies twenty-five."
Trinity College, Dublin, at this time surprised Johnson with
a spontaneous compliment of the highest academical honours,
by creating him Doctor of Laws. The diploma, which is in
my possession, is as follows :—
" OMNIBUS ad quos prcesentes literce pervenerint, salutem. Nos
Propositus et Socii Seniores Collegii Sacrosanctce et Individual Trinitatis
Regince. Elizabeths juxta Dublin, testamur, Samueli Johnson, Ar-
migero, ob egregiam scriptorum elegantiam et utilitatem, gratiam con-
cessam fuisse pro gradu Doctoratus in utroque Jure, octavo die Julii,
Anno Domini millesimo septingentesimo sexagesimo-quinto. In cujus
rei testimonium singulorum manus et sigillum quo in hisce utimur
apposuimus ; vicesimo tertio die Julii, Anno Domini millesimo septin¬
gentesimo sexagesimo-quinto.
Gul. Clement. Fran. Andrews. R. Murray.
Tho. Wilson. Prceps. RoBtns. Law.
Tho. Leland.2 Mich. Kearney.3
This unsolicited mark of distinction, conferred on so great a
literary character, did much honour to the judgment and
liberal spirit of that learned body. Johnson acknowledged
1 A quarter's pension.—Croker.
2 Dr. Thomas Leland, the translator of Demosthenes, and author of the
History of Ireland, was born at Dublin, in 1722, and died in 1785.—
Wright.
3 The same who has contributed some notes to this work, and the elder
brother of my earliest literary friend Dr. John Kearney, sometime Provost
of Dublin College, and afterwards Bishop of Ossory. Both the brothers
were amiable men and accomplished scholars.—Croker.
JET. 56.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
401
the favour in a letter to Dr. Leland, one of their number ; but
I have not been able to obtain a copy of it.1
He appears this year to have been seized with a temporary
fit of ambition, for he had thoughts both of studying law, and
of engaging in politics. His " Prayer before the Study of
Law "2 is truly admirable :—
"Sept. 26, 1765. Almighty God, the giver of wisdom, without
whose help resolutions are vain, without whose blessing study is in¬
effectual ; enable me, if it be thy will, to attain such knowledge as
may qualify me to direct the doubtful, and instruct the ignorant; to
prevent wrongs and terminate contentions; and grant that I may use
that knowledge which I shall attain, to thy glory and my own salva¬
tion, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."
His prayer in the view of becoming a politician is entitled,
" Engaging in politics with H n,"3 no doubt, his friend, the
Right Hon. William Gerard Hamilton,4 for whom, during a
1 Since the publication of the edition in 1804 a copy of this letter has
been obligingly communicated to me by John Leland, Esq., son of the
learned historian, to whom it is addressed :—
"TO THE REV. DR. LELAND.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, London,
" Oct. 17, 1765.
" Sir,—Among the names subscribed to the degree which I have had
the honour of receiving from the University of Dublin, I find none of which
1 have any personal knowledge but those of Dr. Andrews and yourself.
" Men can be estimated by those who know them not, only as they are
represented by those who know them ; and therefore I flatter myself that
I owe much of the pleasure which this distinction gives me, to your con¬
currence with Dr. Andrews in recommending me to the learned society.
" Having desired the Provost to return my general thanks to the Uni¬
versity, I beg that you, Sir, will accept my particular and immediate
acknowledgments. I am, Sir, your most obedient and most humble ser¬
vant, " Sam. Johnson."
1 have not been able to recover the letter which Johnson wrote to Dr.
Andrews on this occasion.—Malone.
2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 60. 3 Ibid., p. 61.
4 William Gerard Hamilton, the only son of William Hamilton, a
Scottish advocate who migrated from Edinburgh to London, to practise
D D
402
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I765-
long acquaintance, he had a great esteem, and to whose con¬
versation he once paid this high compliment: " I am very un¬
willing to be left alone, Sir, and therefore I go with my
company down the first pair of stairs, in some hopes that they
may, perhaps, return again; I go with you, Sir, as far as the
street-door." In what particular department he intended to
engage1 does not appear, nor can Mr. Hamilton explain. His
prayer is in general terms :
under the appellate jurisdiction created at the Union, 1707, was born in
Lincoln's Inn, January, 1728. He was educated at Winchester and Oriel
College; and, on leaving Oxford, became a member of Lincoln's Inn ;
but on the death of his father, January 15, 1754, from whom he inherited
an ample fortune, he abandoned the bar, to devote himself exclusively
to political life. In the general election, May, 1754, he entered Parlia¬
ment as member for Petersfield, Hampshire. After remaining a silent
member for a year, he made his first speech, 13th November, 1755, in
the debate on an address to the Crown regarding the treaties between
His Britannic Majesty, the Emperor of Russia and the Landgrave of
Hesse-Cassel: "Young Mr. Hamilton," says Horace Walpole, "spoke for
the first time, and was at once perfection." This was the speech which
acquired for him the name of " single speech Hamilton "—an epithet not
altogether correct, for he spoke again on the same subject, February, 1756,
when, as Walpole says, he shone again, but with diminished lustre. In
March, 1761, he accompanied Lord Halifax, when that nobleman was
made Lord Lieutenant, to Ireland, as his principal secretary. In the Irish
House of Commons, in the course of the session which began in November,
1761, and ended in the middle of the following year, he spoke five times,
and with distinguished success. Though he did not immediately resign
his office when, 1763, the Earl of Northumberland succeeded Lord Hali¬
fax as Lord Lieutenant, yet, from some disgust he had conceived, he soon
took this step, and returned to England. He sat in every parliament till
his death, which took place in his house, Upper Brook Street, July 16,
1796, in his sixty-eighth year.—Editor.
1 In the preface to a late collection of Mr. Hamilton's Pieces, it has been
observed that our author was, by the generality of Johnson's words, " led
to suppose that he was seized with a temporary fit of ambition, and that
hence he was induced to apply his thoughts to law and politics. But Mr.
Boswell was certainly mistaken in this respect: and these words merely
allude to Johnson's having at that time entered into some engagement with
Mr. Hamilton occasionally to furnish him with his sentiments on the great
political topics which should be considered in Parliament." In conse¬
quence of this engagement, Johnson, in November, 1766, wrote a very
valuable tract, entitled " Considerations on Corn," which is printed as an
JET. 5 6.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON*.
403
" Enlighten my understanding with knowledge of right, and
govern my will by thy laws, that no deceit may mislead me,
nor temptation corrupt me ; that I may always endeavour to
do good, and hinder evil."1 There is nothing upon the subject
in his diary.
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 South¬
ward 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 respect¬
able ; 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 gen¬
tility, 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 it2 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
appendix to the works of Mr. Hamilton [edited by Malone], published
by T. Payne in 1808.—Malone.
1 Ibid., p. 67.
2 The predecessor of old Thrale was Edmund Halsey, Esq.; the noble¬
man who married his daughter was Lord Cobham, great uncle of the
first Marquis of Buckingham. But I believe Dr. Johnson was mistaken
in assigning so very low an origin to Mr. Thrale. The clerk of St. Albans,
a very aged man, told me, that he (the elder Thrale) married a sister of
Mr. Halsey. It is at least certain that the family of Thrale was of some
consideration in that town: in the abbey church is a handsome monument
to the memory of Mr. John Thrale, late of London, merchant, who died
in 1704, aged 54, Margaret his wife, and three of their children who died
young, between the years 1676 and 1690. The arms upon this monument
are, paly of eight, gules and or, impaling, ermine, on a chief indented vert,
three wolves' (or gryphons') heads, or, couped at the neck :—Crest on a
ducal coronet, a tree, vert.—Blakeway.
404
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I765-
brewery was to be sold. To find a purchaser 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 fortune, and lived to be a
member of parliament for Southwark.1 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 procured him from the noble¬
man who had married his master's daughter, made him be
treated with much attention ; and his son, both at school and
at the university of Oxford, associated with young men of the
first rank. His allowance from his father, after he left college,
was splendid ; not 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 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 extent,
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 im¬
mense sum of one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds :
a magnificent proof of what may be done by fair trade in a
long period of time.
There may be some who think that a new system of gen¬
tility2 might be established, upon principles totally different
1 In 1733 he served the office of high sheriff for Surrey; and died April 9,
1758.—Chalmers.
2 Mrs. Burney informs me that she heard Dr. Johnson say, "An English
merchant is a new species of gentleman." He, perhaps, had in his mind
the following ingenious passage in The Conscious Lovers, act iv., scene 2,
where Mr. Sealand thus addresses Sir J ohn Bevil :—" Give me leave to
JET. 56. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 405
from what have hitherto prevailed. Our present heraldry, it
may be said, is suited to the barbarous times in which it had
its origin. It is chiefly founded upon ferocious merit, upon
military excellence. Why, in civilized times, we may be asked,
should there not be rank and honours, upon principles which,
independent of long custom, are certainly not less worthy, and
which, when once allowed to be connected with elevation and
precedency, would obtain the same dignity in our imagination ?
Why should not the knowledge, the skill, the expertness, the
assiduity, and the spirited hazards of trade and commerce,
when crowned with success, he entitled to give those flattering
distinctions by which mankind are so universally captivated ?
Such are the specious, but false arguments for a proposition
which always will find numerous advocates, in a nation where
men are every day starting up from obscurity to wealth. To
refute them is needless. The general sense of mankind cries
out, with irresistible force, " Un gentilhomme est toujours gentil-
hommer
Mr. Thrale had married Miss Hesther 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 invitations to their house
were more and more frequent, till at last he became one of the
say, that we merchants are a species of gentry that have grown into the
world this last century, and are as honourable, and almost as useful,
as you landed-folks, that have always thought yourselves so much above
us ; for your trading, forsooth, is extended no farther than a load of
hay, or a fat ox. You are pleasant people indeed! because you are gene¬
rally bred up lazy, therefore, I warrant you, industry is dishonourable."
[Note added in the second edition, vol. i., p. 457.—Editor.]
40 6
.BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1765.
family, and an apartment was appropriated to him, both in
their house at Southwark and in their villa at Streatham.1
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 pre¬
sented 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 learn¬
ing is that of a schoolboy 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 proportioned, and stately.
As for Madam, or my Mistress, by which epithets J ohnson used
1 The first time I ever saw this extraordinary man was in the year
1764, when Mr. Murphy, who had long been the friend and confidential
intimate of Mr. Thrale, persuaded him to wish for Johnson's conver¬
sation, extolling it in terms which that of no other person could have
deserved, till we were only in doubt how to obtain his company, and find
an excuse for the invitation. The celebrity of Mr. Woodhouse, a shoe¬
maker, whose verses were at that time the* subject of common discourse,
soon afforded a pretence, and Mr. Murphy brought Johnson to meet him,
giving me general cautions not to be surprised at his figure, dress, or be¬
haviour. What I recollect best of the day's talk was his earnestly recom¬
mending Addison's works to Mr. Woodhouse as a model for imitation.
" Give nights and days, Sir," said he, " to the study of Addison, if you
mean either to be a good writer, or, what is more worth, an honest man."
When I saw something like the same expression in his criticism on that
author, in the Lives of the Poets, I put him in mind of his past injunc¬
tions to the young poet, to which he replied, "that he wished the shoe¬
maker might have remembered them as well." Mr. Johnson liked his new
acquaintance so much, however, that from that time he dined with us
every Thursday through the winter.—Piozzfs Anecdotes, p. 125-6.
JET. 5 6.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
407
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-coloured
gown : "You little creatures should never wear those sort of
clothes, however; they are unsuitable in every way. What! have
not all insects gay colours ?"1 Mr. Thrale gave his wife a liberal
indulgence, 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 John¬
son's conversation for its own sake, and had also a very allow¬
able vanity in appearing to be honoured with the attention of
so celebrated a man.
Nothing could be more fortunate for Johnson than this con¬
nection. 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, 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 " Shakspeare," which, if it had no other merit but
that of producing his Preface, in which the excellences and
defects of that immortal bard are displayed with a masterly
hand, the nation would have had no reason to complain.2 A
1 Anecdotes, p. 279.
2 Johnson was insensible to Churchill's abuse ; but the poem before
mentioned had brought to remembrance that his edition of Shakespeare
had long been due. His friends took the alarm, and, by all the arts of
reasoning and persuasion, laboured to convince him that, having taken
subscriptions for a work in which he had made no progress, his credit was
at stake. He confessed he was culpable, and promised from time to time
408
EOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
blind indiscriminate admiration of Shakspeare 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 honour. 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 investiga¬
tions so acute, as they might have been ; which we now
certainly know from the labours 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.
His "Shakspeare" was virulently attacked by Mr. William
Kenrick, who obtained the degree of LL.D. from a Scotch
university, and wrote for the booksellers in a great variety of
branches. Though he certainly was not without considerable
to begin a course of such reading as was necessary to qualify him for the
work : this was no more than he had formerly done in an engagement
with Coxeter, to whom he had bound himself to write the Life of Shake¬
speare, but he never could be prevailed on to begin it, so that even now it
was questioned whether his promises were to be relied on. For this reason
Sir Joshua Reynolds, and some other of his friends, who were more con¬
cerned for his reputation than himself seemed to be, contrived to entangle
him by a wager, or some other pecuniary engagement, to perform his task
by a certain time.—Hawkins1 Life, p. 440.
Grainger thus writes to Percy on this subject, "27th June, 1758 : I have
several times called on Johnson to pay him part of your subscription—I
say part, because he never thinks of working if he has a couple of guineas
in his pocket." And again, 20th July : "As to his Shakespeare, movet
sed non promovet. I shall feed him occasionally with guineas."—Prior's
Goldsmith, i., 235.—Croker.
JF.T. 5 6.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
409
merit, he wrote with so little regard to decency, and principles,
and decorum, and in so hasty a manner, that his reputation
was neither extensive nor lasting. I remember one evening,
when some of his works were mentioned, Dr. Goldsmith said,
he had never heard of them; upon which Dr. Johnson ob¬
served, " Sir, he is one of the many who have made themselves
public, without making themselves known." 1
A young student of Oxford, of the name of Barclay, wrote
an answer to Kenrick's review of Johnson's " Shakspeare."
Johnson was at first angry that Kenrick's attack should have
the credit of an answer. But afterwards, considering the
young man's good intention, he kindly noticed him, and
probably would have done more, had not the young man
died.
In his Preface to "Shakspeare,"Johnson treated Voltaire very
contemptuously, observing, upon some of his remarks, " These
are the petty cavils of petty minds." Voltaire, in revenge,
made an attack upon Johnson, in one of his numerous literary
sallies which I remember to have read ; but, there being no
general index to his voluminous works, have searched in vain,
and therefore cannot quote it.2
Voltaire was an antagonist with whom I thought Johnson
should not disdain to contend. I pressed him to answer. He
said, he perhaps might; but he never did.
Mr. Burney having occasion to write to Johnson for some
receipts for subscriptions to his " Shakspeare," which Johnson
1 Kenrick was born at Watford, Herts, and was brought up to the busi¬
ness of a rule-maker, which he quitted for literature. Of this " attack,"
entitled "A Review of Dr. Johnson's new edition of Shakespeare; in
which the Ignorance or Inattention of that Editor is exposed, and the
Poet defended from the Persecution of his Commentators," Dr. Johnson
only said, " He did not think himself bound by Kenrick's rules? In 1774
he delivered Lectures on Shakespeare, and the next year commenced the
London Review, which he continued to his death, June 10, 1779.— Wright.
2 "Je ne veux point soupgonner le sieur Jonson d'etre un mauvais
plaisant, et d'aimer trop le vin : mais je trouve un peu singulier qu'il
compte la bouffonnerie et l'ivrognerie parmi les beautds du theatre
tragique &c., &c. Dictionnaire Philosophique, art. " Art Dramatique."
Voltaire, edit. 1784, vol. xxxviii., p. 10.— Wright.
410 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1765.
had omitted to deliver when the money was paid, he availed
himself of that opportunity of thanking Johnson for the great
pleasure which he had received from the perusal of his Preface
to "Shakspeare which, although it excited much clamour
against him at first, is now justly ranked among the most ex¬
cellent of his writings. To this letter Johnson returned the
following answer :— t
TO CHARLES BURNEY, ESQ.,
In Poland Street.
" Oct. 16, 1765.
" Sir,
" I am sorry that your kindness to me has brought upon you so
much trouble, though you have taken care to abate that sorrow, by
the pleasure which I received from your approbation. I defend my
criticism in the same manner with you. We must confess the faults
of our favourite, to gain credit to our praise of his excellencies. He
that claims, either in himself or for another, the honours of perfection,
will surely injure the reputation which he designs to assist. Be
pleased to make my compliments to your family. I am, Sir, your
most obliged and most humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
From one of his Journals I transcribed what follows :—
"At church, Oct. — 65.
"To avoid all singularity : Bonaventura}
"To come in before service, and compose my mind by
meditation, or by reading some portions of scripture. Tetty.
" If I can hear the sermon, to attend it, unless attention be
more troublesome than useful.
"To consider the act of prayer as a reposal of myself upon
God, and a resignation of all into his holy hand."
Both in 1764 and 1765 it should seem that he was so
busily employed with his edition of Shakspeare, as to have
had little leisure for any other literary exertion, or, indeed,
1 He was probably proposing to himself the model of this excellent
person, who for his piety was named the Seraphic Doctor.
JET. 5 6.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
411
even for private correspondence. He did not favour me with
a single letter for more than two years, for which it will appear
that he afterwards apologised.
He was, however, at all times ready to give assistance to his
friends, and others, in revising their works, and in writing for
them, or greatly improving, their Dedications. In that courtly
species of composition no man excelled Dr. Johnson. Though
the loftiness of his mind prevented him from ever dedicating
in his own person, he wrote a very great number of Dedica¬
tions for others. Some of these, the persons who were favoured
with them are unwilling should be mentioned, from a too
anxious apprehension, as I think, that they might be suspected
of having received larger assistance ; and some, after all the
diligence I have bestowed, have escaped my inquiries. He
told me, a great many years ago, " he believed he had dedi¬
cated to all the Royal Family round ; " and it was indifferent
to him what was the subject of the work dedicated, provided
it were innocent. He once dedicated some music for the
German Flute to Edward, Duke of York. In writing Dedi¬
cations for others, he considered himself as by no means
speaking his own sentiments.
Notwithstanding his long silence, I never omitted to write
to him, when I. had anything worthy of communicating. I
generally kept copies of my letters to him, that I might have
a full view of our correspondence, and never be at a loss to
understand any reference in his letters. He kept the greater
part of mine very carefully ; and a short time before his death
was attentive enough to seal them up in bundles, and ordered
them to be delivered to me, which was accordingly done.
Amongst them I found one, of which I had not made a copy,
and which I own I read with pleasure at the distance of almost
twenty years. It is dated November, 1765, at the palace of
Pascal Paoli, in Corte, the capital of Corsica, and is full of
generous enthusiasm. After giving a sketch of what I had
seen and heard in that island, it proceeded thus: " I dare
to call this a spirited tour. I dare to challenge your appro¬
bation."
412 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1766.
This letter produced the following answer, which I found on
my arrival at Paris.
A M. M. BOSWELL,
Chez M. Waters, Banquier, a Paris.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, Jan. 14, 1766.
" Dear Sir,
" Apologies are seldom of any use. We will delay till your arrival
the reasons, good or bad, which have made me such a sparing and
ungrateful correspondent. Be assured, for the present, that nothing
has lessened either the esteem or love with which I dismissed you
at Harwich. Both have been increased by all that I have been told
of you by yourself or others ; and when you return, you will return
to an unaltered, and, I hope, unalterable friend.
" All that you have to fear from me is the vexation of disappoint¬
ing me. No man loves to frustrate expectations which have been
formed in his favour; and the pleasure which I promise myself from
your journals and remarks is so great, that perhaps no degree of atten¬
tion or discernment will be sufficient to afford it.
" Come home, however, and take your chance. I long to see you,
and to hear you; and hope that we shall not be so long separated
again. Come home, and expect such welcome as is due to him, whom
a wise and noble curiosity has led, where perhaps no native of this
country ever was before.
" I have no news to tell you that can deserve your notice; nor
would I willingly lessen the pleasure that any novelty may give you
at your return. I am afraid we shall find it difficult to keep among us
a mind which has been so long feasted with variety. But let us try
what esteem and kindness can effect.
" As your father's liberality has indulged you with so long a ramble,
I doubt not but you will think his sickness, or even his desire to see
you, a sufficient reason for hastening your return. The longer we
live, and the more we think, the higher value we learn to put on the
friendship and tenderness of parents and of friends. Parents we can
have but once; and he promises himself too much, who enters life
with the expectation of finding many friends. Upon some motive, I
hope, that you will be here soon; and am willing to think that it
will be an inducement to your return, that it is sincerely desired by,
dear Sir, your affectionate humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
«ET. 57-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
413
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 received
me with much kindness. The fragments of our first conversa¬
tion, which I have preserved, are these: I told him that Vol¬
taire, 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."1 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."
And here it is proper to settle, with authentic precision,
what has long floated in public report, as to Johnson's being
himself the author of a considerable part of that poem. Much,
no doubt, both of the sentiments and expression, were de¬
rived from conversation with him ;2 and it was certainly sub-
1 It is remarkable that Mr. Gray has employed somewhat the same
image to characterise Dryden. He, indeed, furnishes his car with but two
horses ; but they are of " ethereal race :"—
" Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car
Wide o'er the fields of glory bear
Two coursers of ethereal race,
With necks in thunder clothed, and long resounding pace."
Ode on the Progress of Poesy.
Johnson, in the Life of Pope, has made a comparison between him and
Dryden, in the spirit of this correction of Voltaire's metaphor. It is one
of the most beautiful critical passages in our language, and was probably
suggested to Johnson's mind by this conversation, although he did not
make use of the same illustration.—Croker.
Johnson condemns the image in his Life of Gray. "The car of Dry¬
den," he says, " with his two coursers, has nothing in it peculiar ; it is
a car in which any other rider may be placed."—/5. Cunningham.
2 This rests on no authority whatever, and may well be doubted. The
4H
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
mitted to his friendly revision : but in the year 1783, he, at
my request, marked with a pencil the lines which he had fur¬
nished, which are only line 420th :—
"To stop too fearful, and too faint to go
and the concluding ten lines, except the last couplet but one,
which I distinguish by the Italic character :
" How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure !
Still to ourselves in every place consign'd,
Our own felicity we make or find :
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel,
Luke's iron crown, and Damierfs bed of steel,
To men remote from power, but rarely known,
Leave reason, faith, and conscience all our own."
He added, " These are all of which I can be sure." They
bear a small proportion to the whole, which consists of four
hundred and thirty-eight verses. Goldsmith, in the couplet
which he inserted, mentions Luke as a person well known,
and superficial readers have passed it over quite smoothly;
while those of more attention have been as much perplexed
by Luke as by Lydiat, in "The Vanity of Human Wishes."
The truth is, that Goldsmith himself was in a mistake. In the
" Respublica Hungarica," there is an account of a desperate
rebellion in the year 1514, headed by two brothers of the name
of Zeck, George and Luke. When it was quelled, George,
not Luke, was punished, by his head being encircled with
a red-hot iron crown; "corona candescente ferred coronatur"1
Traveller is a poem which, in a peculiar degree, seems written from the
personal observation and feelings of its author.—Croker.
' Mr. Boswell is in error. The names of the brother rebels were George
and Luke Dosa, and they (or at least George) were punished, as stated in
the poem. Felicien Zech (properly Zach), was a different person.—John
Murray.
The alteration therefore which a late editor of Goldsmith, Mr. Bolton
Corney, has made, of Luke into " Zech" is doubly improper.—P. Cun¬
ningham*
^ET. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
415
The same severity of torture was exercised on the Earl of
Athol, one of the murderers of King James I. of Scotland !
Dr. Johnson at the same time favoured me by marking the
lines which he furnished to Goldsmith's " Deserted Village,"
which are only the last four :—
"That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,
As ocean sweeps the labour'd mole away:
While self-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks resist the billows and the sky."
Talking of education, " People have now-a-days," said he,
" got a strange opinion that every thing should be taught by
lectures. Now, I cannot see that lectures can do so much
good as reading the books from which the lectures are taken.
I know nothing that can be best taught by lectures, except
where experiments are to be shown. You may teach chy-
mistry by lectures :—you might teach making of shoes by
lectures!"
At night I supped with him at the Mitre tavern, that we
might renew our social intimacy at the original place of meet¬
ing. But there was now a considerable difference in his way
of living. Having had an illness,1 in which he was advised to
leave off wine, he had, from that period, continued to abstain
from it, and drank only water, or lemonade.
I told him that a foreign friend of his, whom I had met
with abroad, was so wretchedly perverted to infidelity, that he
treated the hopes of immortality with brutal levity ; and said,
" As man dies like a dog, let him lie like a dog." JOHNSON.
" If he dies like a dog, let him lie like a dog." I added, that
this man said to me, " I hate mankind, for I think myself one
of the best of them, and I know how bad I am." JOHNSON.
" Sir, he must be very singular in his opinion, if he thinks
himself one of the best of men ; for none of his friends think
him so."—He said, " No honest man could be a Deist; for no
1 Probably the severe fit of hypochondria mentioned ante [p. 394].—
Croker.
4i 6
boswell's life of johnson.
1766.
man could be so after a fair examination of the proofs of
Christianity." I named Hume. johnson. " No, Sir ; Hume
owned to a clergyman in the bishopric of Durham, that he had
never read the New Testament with attention."—I mentioned
Hume's notion, that all who are happy are equally happy ; a
little miss with a new gown at a dancing-school ball, a general
at the head of a victorious army, and an orator after having
made an eloquent speech in a great assembly. Johnson.
" Sir, that all who are happy, are equally happy, is not true.
A peasant and a philosopher may be equally satisfied, but not
equally happy. Happiness consists in the multiplicity of
agreeable consciousness. A peasant has not capacity for
having equal happiness with a philosopher." I remember this
very question very happily illustrated, in opposition to Hume,
by the Rev. Mr. Robert Brown, at Utrecht. "A small drink-
ing-glass and a large one," said he, " may be equally full; but
the large one holds more than the small." 1
Dr. Johnson was very kind this evening, and said to me,
" You have now lived five-and-twenty years, and you have
employed them well." " Alas, Sir," said I, " I fear not. Do I
know history ? Do I know mathematics ? Do I know law ? "
johnson. "Why, Sir, though you may know no science so
well as to be able to teach it, and no profession so well as to
be able to follow it, your general mass of knowledge of books
and men renders you very capable to make yourself master of
any science, or fit yourself for any profession." I mentioned,
that a gay friend had advised me against being a lawyer, be¬
cause I should be excelled by plodding blockheads. john¬
son. "Why, Sir, in the formulary and statutory part of law,
a plodding blockhead may excel; but in the ingenious
1 Bishop Hall, in discussing this subject, has the same image : " Yet so
conceive of these heavenly degrees, that the least is glorious. So do these
vessels differ, that all are full."—Epistles, Dec. iii. cap. 6. It is found
also in "A Work worth the Reading," by Charles Gibbon, 4to. 1591 :
" The joyes of heaven are fitlie compared to vessels filled with licour,
of all quantities; for everie man shall have his full measure there."—
Malone.
JET. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
417
and rational part of it, a plodding blockhead can never
excel."
I talked of the mode adopted by some to rise in the world,
by courting great men, and asked him whether he had ever
submitted to it. JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, I never was near
enough to great men, to court them. You may be prudently
attached to great men, and yet independent. You are not to
do what you think wrong ; and, Sir, you are to calculate, and
not pay too dear for what you get. You must not give a
shilling's worth of court for sixpence worth of good. But if
you can get a shilling's worth of good for sixpence worth of
court, you are a fool if you do not pay court."
He said, " If convents should be allowed at all, they should
only be retreats for persons unable to serve the public, or who
have served it. It is our first duty to serve society, and, after we
have done that, we may attend wholly to the salvation of our
own souls. A youthful passion for abstracted devotion should
not be encouraged."
I introduced the subject of second sight, and other myste¬
rious manifestations ; the fulfilment of which, I suggested,
might happen by chance. JOHNSON. "Yes, Sir, but they
have happened so often that mankind have agreed to think
them not fortuitous."
I talked to him a great deal of what I had seen in Corsica,
and of my intention to publish an account of it. He encou¬
raged me by saying, " You cannot go to the bottom of the
subject; but all that you tell us will be new to us. Give us
as many anecdotes as you can."
Our next meeting at the Mitre was on Saturday the 15th of
February, when I presented to him my old and most intimate
friend, the Rev. Mr. Temple, then of Cambridge. I having
mentioned that I had passed some time with Rousseau in his
wild retreat, and having quoted some remark made by Mr.
Wilkes, with whom I had spent many pleasant hours in Italy,
Johnson said, sarcastically, " It seems, Sir, you have kept very
good company abroad,—Rousseau and Wilkes ! " Thinking
it enough to defend one at a time, I said nothing as to my gay
E E
418
boswell's life of johnson,
1766.
friend, but answered with a smile, " My dear Sir, you don't
call Rousseau bad company. Do you really think him a bad
man ? " johnson. " Sir, if you are talking jestingly of this,
I don't talk with you. If you mean to be serious, I think him
one of the worst of men ; a rascal, who ought to be hunted
out of society, as he has been. Three or four nations have
expelled him : and it is a shame that he is protected in this
country." boswell. " I don't deny, Sir, but that his novel1
may, perhaps, do harm ; but I cannot think his intention was
bad." Johnson. " Sir, that will not do. We cannot prove
any man's intention to be bad. You may shoot a man
through the head, and say you intended to miss him; but the
judge will order you to be hanged. An alleged want of in¬
tention, when evil is committed, will not be allowed in a court
of justice. Rousseau, Sir, is a very bad man. I would sooner
sign a sentence for his transportation, than that of any felon
who has gone from the Old Bailey these many years. Yes, I
should like to have him work in the plantations." Boswell.
"Sir, do you think him as bad a man as Voltaire?" john¬
son. " Why, Sir, it is difficult to settle the proportion of
iniquity between them."
This violence seemed very strange to me, who had read
many of Rousseau's animated writings with great pleasure,
and even edification ; had been much pleased with his society,
and was just come from the continent, where he was very
generally admired. Nor can I yet allow that he deserves the
very severe censure which Johnson pronounced upon him.
His absurd preference of savage to civilized life, and other sin¬
gularities, are proofs rather of a defect in his understanding,
than of any depravity in his heart. And notwithstanding the
unfavourable opinion which many worthy men have expressed
of his " Profession de Foi du Vicaire Savoyard," I cannot help
admiring it as the performance of a man full of sincere reve¬
rential submission to the Divine Mystery, though beset with
perplexing doubts: a state of mind to be viewed with pity
rather than with anger.
1 Julie, ou la Nouvelle Hdlo'ise was published in six vols., i2mo, at
Amsterdam in 1760.—Editor.
57-
boswell's life of johnson.
419
On his favourite subject of subordination, Johnson said,
" So far is it from being true that men are naturally equal,
that no two people can be half an hour together, but one shall
acquire an evident superiority over the other."
I mentioned the advice given us by philosophers to console
ourselves, when distressed or embarrassed, by thinking of
those who are in a worse situation than ourselves. This, I
observed, could not apply to all, for there must be some who
have nobody worse than they are. johnson. "Why, to be
sure, Sir, there are; but they don't know it. There is no
being so poor and so contemptible, who does not think there
is somebody still poorer, and still more contemptible."
As my stay in London at this time was very short, I had
not many opportunities of being with Dr. Johnson ; but I felt
my veneration for him in no degree lessened, by my having
seen multorwn hominum mores et urbes} On the contrary, by
having it in my power to compare him with many of the most
celebrated persons of other countries, my admiration of his
extraordinary mind was increased and confirmed.
The roughness, indeed, which sometimes appeared in his
manners, was more striking to me now, from my having been
accustomed to the studied smooth complying habits of the
continent; and I clearly recognised in him, not without respect
for his honest conscientious zeal, the same indignant and sar-
castical mode of treating every attempt to unhinge or weaken
gopd principles.
One evening, when a young gentleman teased him with an
account of the infidelity of his servant, who, he said, would
not believe the scriptures, because he could not read them in
the original tongues, and be sure that they were not invented.
" Why, foolish fellow," said Johnson, " has he any better autho¬
rity for almost every thing that he believes ?" boswell.
" Then the vulgar, Sir, never can know they are right, but
must submit themselves to the learned." johnson. "To be
sure, Sir. The vulgar are the children of the State, and must
be taught like children." Boswell. " Then, Sir, a poor Turk
1 Horace (de Art. Poet. 142), of Ulysses.—Croker.
420
boswell's life of johnson.
1766.
must be a Mahometan, just as a poor Englishman must be a
Christian?" johnson. "Why, yes, Sir; and what then?
This, now, is such stuff as I used to talk to my mother, when
I began to think myself a clever fellow ; and she ought to have
whipt me for it."
Another evening Dr. Goldsmith and I called on him, with
the hope of prevailing on him to sup with us at the Mitre.
We found him indisposed, and resolved not to go abroad.
" Come, then," said Goldsmith, " we will not go to the Mitre
to-night, since we cannot have the big man 1 with us." John¬
son then called for a bottle of port, of which Goldsmith and I
partook, while our friend, now a water-drinker, sat by us.
goldsmith. "I think, Mr. Johnson, you don't go near the
theatres now. You give yourself no more concern about a
new play, than if you had never had anything to do with the
stage." johnson. "Why, Sir, our tastes greatly alter. The
lad does not care for the child's rattle, and the old man does
not care for the young man's whore." Goldsmith. " Nay,
Sir ; but your Muse was not a whore." johnson. " Sir, I do
not think she was. But as we advance in the journey of life
we drop some of the things which have pleased us ; whether it
be that we are fatigued, and don't choose to carry so many
things any farther, or that we find other things which we like
better." boswell. " But, Sir, why don't you give us some¬
thing in some other way ?" Goldsmith. " Ay, Sir, we have
a claim upon you." johnson. "No, Sir, I am not obliged to do
any more. No man is obliged to do as much as he can do. A
man is to have part of his life to himself. If a soldier has fought
a good many campaigns, he is not to be blamed if he retires to
ease and tranquillity. A physician, who has practised long in
a great city, may be excused if he retires to a small town, and
takes less practice. Now, Sir, the good I can do by my con¬
versation bears the same proportion to the good I can do by
1 These two little words may be observed as marks of Mr. Boswell's
accuracy in reporting the expressions of his personages. It is a jocular
Irish phrase, which, of all Johnson's acquaintances, no one, probably, but
Goldsmith, would have used.—Croker.
vET. 57-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
421
my writings, that the practice of a physician, retired to a
small town, does to his practice in a great city." boswell.
" But I wonder, Sir, you have not more pleasure in writing
than in not writing." johnson. " Sir, you may wonder."
He talked of making verses, and observed, " The great
difficulty is, to know when you have made good ones. When
composing, I have generally had them in my mind, perhaps
fifty at a time, walking up and down in my room ; and then I
have written them down, and often, from laziness, have written
only half lines. I have written a hundred lines in a day. I
remember I wrote a hundred lines of ' The Vanity of Human
Wishes' in a day. Doctor," turning to Goldsmith, " I am not
quite idle ; I made one line t'other day ; but I made no more."
Goldsmith. " Let us hear it: we'll put a bad one to it."
Johnson.i "No, Sir ; I have forgot it."
Such specimens of the easy and playful conversation of the
great Dr. Samuel Johnson are, I think, to be prized ; as exhi¬
biting the little varieties of a mind so enlarged and so power¬
ful when objects of consequence required its exertions, and as
giving us a minute knowledge of his character and modes of
thinking.
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.1
At Langton, near Spilsby, Lincolnshire.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, March 9, 1766.
" 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.
1 These two letters, and the long note regarding Mr. Peregrine Langton,
were introduced in the third edition, vol. ii., pp. 14-18.—Editor.
422
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
" 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 any thing 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,1 in which he
has gained more reputation than perhaps any man at his [first] appear¬
ance 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 maintained the
newspapers these many weeks;2 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 the first
letter in it. I think it looks very pretty about me.3
"Dyer4 is constant at the Club; Hawkins is remiss; I am not
over diligent; Dr. Nugent, Dr. Goldsmith, and Mr. Reynolds are
very constant. Mr. Lye5 is printing his ' Saxon and Gothic Dic¬
tionary all the Club subscribers.
1 In the autumn of 1765, Burke came into Parliament as member for
Wendover, Bucks, a borough of Lord Verney's : and early in the session
which opened Jan. 14, 1766, he made those two speeches for repealing the
Stamp Act, of which Johnson writes to Langton.—Editor.
2 Probably with criticisms on his Shakespeare.—Croker.
3 He entered this study 7th March, 1766, with a prayer " On entering
Novum Museum." Pr. and Med., p. 68.—Croker.
* Samuel Dyer, Esq., a most learned and ingenious member of the
" Literary Club," for whose understanding and attainments Dr. Johnson
had great respect. He died Sept. 14, 1772. A more particular account
of this gentleman may be found in a Note on the Life of Dryden, p. 186,
prefixed to the edition of that great writer's Prose works, in four volumes,
8vo., 1800 : in which his character is vindicated, and the very unfavourable
representation of it, given by Sir John Hawkins in his Life of Johnson, pp.
222, 232, is minutely examined.—Malone.
5 Edward Lye was born in 1704, He published the Etymologicum
Anglicanum of Junius. His great work is that referred to above, which he
was printing ; but he did not live to see the publication. He died in 1767,
and the Dictionary was published, in 1772, by the Rev. Owen Manning,
author of the History and Antiquities of Surrey.—Croker.
^T. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
423
"You will pay my respects to all my Lincolnshire friends. I am,
dear Sir, most affectionately yours, " Sam. Johnson."
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.,
At Langton, near Spilsby, Lincolnshire.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, May 10, 1766.
" Dear Sir,
" In supposing that I should be more than commonly affected by
the death of Peregrine Langton,1 you were not mistaken ; he was one
of those whom I loved at once by instinct and by reason. I have
seldom indulged more hope of any thing than of being able to im¬
prove our acquaintance to friendship. Many a time have I placed my¬
self again at Langton, and imagined the pleasure with which I should
walk to Partney2 in a summer morning; but this is no longer pos¬
sible. We must now endeavour to preserve what is left us,—his
example of piety and economy. I hope you make what inquiries you
can, and write down what is told you. The little things which dis¬
tinguish domestic characters are soon forgotten: if you delay to in¬
quire, you will have no information ; if you neglect to write, informa¬
tion will be vain.3
1 Mr. Langton's uncle.
2 The place of residence of Mr. Peregrine Langton.
3 Mr. Langton did not disregard the counsel given by Dr. Johnson, but
wrote an account which he has been pleased to communicate to me :—
" The circumstances of Mr. Peregrine Langton were these. He had an
■annuity for life of two hundred pounds per annum. He resided in a village
in Lincolnshire : the rent of his house, with two or three small fields, was
twenty-eight pounds : the county he lived in was not more than moderately
cheap ; his family consisted of a sister, who paid him eighteen pounds
annually for her board, and a niece. The servants were two maids, and
two men in livery. His common way of living, at his table, was three or
four dishes ; the appurtenances to his table were neat and handsome ; he
frequently entertained company at dinner, and then his table was well
served with as many dishes as were usual at the tables of the other gentle¬
men in the neighbourhood. His own appearance, as to clothes, was
genteelly neat and plain. He had always a post-chaise, and kept three
horses.
" Such, with the resources I have mentioned, was his way of living, which
he did not suffer to employ his whole income : for he had always a sum of
money lying by him for any extraordinary expenses that might arise.
Some money he put into the stocks ; at his death, the sum he had there
424
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
" His art of life certainly deserves to be known and studied. He
lived in plenty and elegance upon an income which, to many, would
appear indigent, and to most, scanty. How he lived, therefore, every
man has an interest in knowing. His death, I hope, was peaceful;
it was surely happy.
amounted to one hundred and fifty pounds. He purchased out of his in¬
come his household furniture and linen, of which latter he had a very
ample store ; and, as I am assured by those that had very good means of
knowing, not less than the tenth part of his income was set apart for
charity : at the time of his death, the sum of twenty-five pounds was found,
with a direction to be employed in such uses.
"He had laid down a plan of living proportioned to his income, and
did not practise any extraordinary degree of parsimony, but endeavoured
that in his family there should be plenty without waste. As an instance
that this was his endeavour, it may be worth while to mention a method
he took in regulating a proper allowance of malt liquor to be drunk in his
family, that there might not be a deficiency, or any intemperate profusion.
On a complaint made that his allowance of a hogshead in a month was
not enough for his own family, he ordered the quantity of a hogshead to
be put into bottles, had it locked up from the servants, and distributed out,
every day, eight quarts, which is the quantity each day at one hogshead
in a month ; and told his servants, that if that did not suffice, he would
allow them more; but, by this method, it appeared at once that the allow¬
ance was much more than sufficient for his small family ; and this proved
a clear conviction, that could not be answered, and saved all future dis¬
pute. He was, in general, very diligently and punctually attended and
obeyed by his servants ; he was very considerate as to the injunctions he
gave, and explained them distinctly ; and, at their first coming to his ser¬
vice, steadily exacted a close compliance with them, without any remis¬
sion ; and the servants, finding this to be the case, soon grew habitually
accustomed to the practice of their business, and then very little further
attention was necessary. On extraordinary instances of good behaviour,
or diligent service, he was not wanting in particular encouragements and
presents above their wages : it is remarkable that he would permit their
relations to visit them, and stay at his house two or three days at a time.
" The wonder, with most that hear an account of his economy, will be,
how he was able, with such an income, to do so much, especially when it
is considered that he paid for every thing he had. He had no land, except
the two or three small fields which I have said he rented ; and, instead of
gaining any thing by their produce, I have reason to think he lost by them;
however, they furnished him with no further assistance towards his house¬
keeping, than grass for his horses (not hay, for that I know he bought),
and for two cows. Every Monday morning he settled his family accounts,
and so kept up a constant attention to the confining his expenses within
-ffiT. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
425
" I wish I had written sooner, lest, writing now, I should renew
your grief ; but I would not forbear saying what I have now said.
" This loss is, I hope, the only misfortune of a family to whom no
misfortune at all should happen, if my wishes could avert it. Let me
know how you all go on Has Mr. Langton got him the little horse
that I recommended ? It would do him good to ride about his estate
in fine weather.
" Be pleased to make my compliments to Mrs. Langton, and to dear
Miss Langton, and Miss Di, and Miss Juliet, and to every body else.
his income ; and to do it more exactly, compared those expenses with a
computation he had made, how much that income would afford him every
week and day of the year. One of his economical practices was, as soon
as any repair was wanting in or about his house, to have it immediately
performed. When he had money to spare, he chose to lay in a provision
of linen or clothes, or any other necessaries ; as then, he said, he could
afford it, which he might not be so well able to do when the actual want
came ; in consequence of which method, he had a considerable supply of
necessary articles lying by him, beside what was in use.
" But the main particular that seems to have enabled him to do so much
with his income, was, that he paid for every thing as soon as he had it,
except, alone, what were current accounts, such as rent for his house, and
servants' wages ; and these he paid at the stated times with the utmost
exactness. He gave notice to the tradesmen of the neighbouring market
towns, that they should no longer have his custom, if they let any of his
servants have any thing without their paying for it. Thus he put it out of
his power to commit those imprudences to which those are liable that
defer their payments by using their money some other way than where it
ought to go. And whatever money he had by him, he knew that it
was not demanded elsewhere, but that he might safely employ it as he
pleased.
" His example was confined, by the sequestered place of his abode, to
the observation of few, though his prudence and virtue would have made
it valuable to all who could have known it. These few particulars, which
I knew myself, or have obtained from those who lived with him, may
afford instruction, and be an incentive to that wise art of living, which he
so successfully practised."
With all our respect for Mr. Bennet Langton's acknowledged character
for accuracy and veracity, there seems something in the foregoing relation,
absolutely incomprehensible—a house, a good table, frequent company,
four servants (two of them men in livery), a carriage and three horses on
two hundred pounds a year ! Economy and ready-money payments will
do much to diminish current expenses, but what effect can they have had
on rent, taxes, wages, and other permanent charges of a respectable
domestic establishment?—Croker.
426
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
"The Club holds very well together. Monday is my night.1 I
continue to rise tolerably well, and read more than I did. I hope
something will yet come of it. I am, Sir, your most affectionate
servant, " Sam. Johnson."
After I had been some time in Scotland, I mentioned to
him in a letter that " On my first return to my native country,
after some years of absence, I was told of a' vast number of
my acquaintance who were all gone to the land of forgetful-
ness, and I found myself like a man stalking over a field of
battle, who every moment perceives some one lying dead." I
complained of irresolution, and mentioned my having made a
vow as a security for good conduct. I wrote to him again
without being able to move his indolence : nor did I hear from
him till he had received a copy of my inaugural Exercise, or
Thesis in Civil Law, which I published at my admission as
an Advocate, as is the custom in Scotland. He then wrote to
me as follows :—
TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
"London, August 10, 1766.
" Dear Sir,
" The reception of your Thesis put me in mind of my debt to you.
Why did you . . .2 I will punish you for it, by telling you that your
Latin wants correction.3 In the beginning, Spei altera, not to urge
that it should be prima, is not grammatical; altera should be alteri.
1 Of his being in the chair of the Literary Club, which at this time met
once a week in the evening.
2 The passage omitted alluded to a private transaction.
3 This censure of my Latin relates to the dedication, which was as
follows:—" Viro nobilissimo, ornatissimo, Joanni, Vicecomiti Mount-
stuart, atavis edito regibus, excelsae familias de Bute spei alterce; labente
seculo, quum homines nullius originis genus square opibus aggrediuntur,
sanguinis antiqui et illustris semper memori, natalium splendorem virtu-
tibus augenti : ad publica populi comitia jam legato ; in optimatium vero
Magna; Britannise senatu, jure hasreditario, olim consessuro : vim insitam
varia doctrina promovente, nec tamen se venditante, praedito : prisca fide,
animo liberrimo, et morum elegantia insigni : in Italias visitandae itinere
socio suo honoratissimo : hasce jurisprudentise primitias, devinctissimas
amicitise et observantiae, monumentum, D. D. C. Q. Jacobus Boswell."
mt. 57-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
427
In the next line you seem to use genus absolutely, for what we call
family, that is, for illustrious extraction, I doubt without authority.
Homines nullius originis, for nullis orti majorities, or nullo loco nati, is,
as I am afraid, barbarous.—Ruddiman is dead.
" I have now vexed you enough, and will try to please you. Your
resolution to obey your father I sincerely approve ; but do not accus¬
tom yourself to enchain your volatility by vows; they will sometime
leave a thorn in your mind, which you will, perhaps, never be able to
extract or eject. Take this warning ; it is of great importance.
" The study of the law is what you very justly term it, copious and
generous ;1 and in adding your name to its professors, you have done
exactly what I always wished, when I wished you best. I hope that
you will continue to pursue it vigorously and constantly. You gain,
at least, what is no small advantage, security from those troublesome
and wearisome discontents, which are always obtruding themselves
upon minds vacant, unemployed, and undetermined.
"You ought to think it no small inducement to diligence and per¬
severance, that they will please your father. We all live upon the
hope of pleasing somebody, and the pleasure of pleasing ought to be
greatest, and at last always will be greatest, when our endeavours are
exerted in consequence of our duty.
" Life is not long, and too much of it must not pass in idle delibe¬
ration how it shall be spent: deliberation which those who begin it by
prudence, and continue it with subtilty, must, after long expense of
thought, conclude by chance. To prefer one future mode of life to
another, upon just reasons, requires faculties which it has not pleased
our Creator to give us.
" If, therefore, the profession you have chosen has some unexpected
inconveniences, console yourself by reflecting that no profession is
without them; and that all the importunities and perplexities of busi¬
ness are softness and luxury, compared with the incessant cravings
of vacancy, and the unsatisfactory expedients of idleness.—
' Hsec sunt quae nostra potui te voce monere ;
Vade, age.' 2
1 This alludes to the first sentence of the Procemium of my Thesis.
" Jurisprudentise studio nullum uberius, nullum generosius : in legibus
enim agitandis, populorum mores, variasque fortunae vices ex quibus leges
oriuntur, contemplari simul solemus."
2 " Haec sunt, quae nostra liceat te voce moneri.
Vade age."—/En. iii. 461-2.—Editor.
428
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
" As to your ' History of Corsica,' you have no materials which
others have not, or may not have. You have, somehow or other,
warmed your imagination. I wish there were some cure, like the
lover's leap, for all heads of which some single idea has obtained an
unreasonable and irregular possession. Mind your own affairs, and
leave the Corsicans to theirs.—I am, dear Sir, your most humble
servant, " Sam. Johnson."
TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
"Auchinlech, Nov. 6, 1766.
" Much esteemed and dear Sir,
" I plead not guilty to 1
" Having thus, I hope, cleared myself of the charge brought against
me, I presume you will not be displeased if I escape the punishment
which you have decreed for me unheard. If you have discharged
the arrows of criticism against an innocent man, you must rejoice to
find they have missed him, or have not been pointed so as to wound
him.
"To talk no longer in allegory, I am, with all deference, going to
offer a few observations in defence of my Latin, which you have found
fault with.
" You think I should have used spei prima instead of spei altera.
Spes is, indeed, often used to express something on which we have a
future dependence, as in Virg. Eclog. i. 14.—
' modo namque gemellos
Spem gregis, ah ! silice in nuda connixa reliquit :'
and in Georg. iii. 473.—
' Spemque gregemque simul,'
for the lambs and the sheep. Yet it is also used to express any thing
on which we have a present dependence, and is well applied to a man
of distinguished influence,—our support, our refuge, our presidium,
as Horace calls Maecenas. So, ^Eneid xii. 57, Queen Amata ad¬
dresses her son-in-law, Turnus :—' Spes tu nunc unaand he was
then no future hope, for she adds,—
' decus imperiumque Latini
Te penes;'
1 The passage omitted explained the transaction to which the preceding
letter had alluded.
JET. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
429
which might have been said of my Lord Bute some years ago. Now
I consider the present Earl .of Bute to be ' Excelsce. families de Bute
spes prima and my Lord Mountstuart, as his eldest son, to be ' spes
altera.' So in ^Eneid xii. 1. 168, after having mentioned Pater ^Eneas,
who was the present spes, the reigning spes, as my German friends
would say, the spes prima, the poet adds,—
' Et juxta Ascanius, magnae spes altera Romas.'1
"You think alterce ungrammatical, and tell me it should have been
alteri. You must recollect, that in old times alter was declined re¬
gularly; and when the ancient fragments preserved in the Juris
Civilis Fontes were written, it was certainly declined in the way that
I use it. This, I should think, may protect a lawyer who writes
alterce. in a dissertation upon part of his own science. But as I could
hardly venture to quote fragments of old law to so classical a man as
Mr. Johnson, I have not made an accurate search into these remains,
to find examples of what I am able to produce in poetical composi¬
tion. We find in Plaut. Rudens, act. iii. scene 4.—
' Nam huic alterce patria quae sit profecto nescio.'
Plautus is, to be sure, an old comic writer ; but in the days of Scipio
and Lelius, we find Terent. Heautontim. act ii. scene 3.—
' hoc ipsa in itinere alterce
Dum narrat, forte audivi.'
"You doubt my having authority for using genus absolutely, for
what we call family, that is, for illustrious extraction. Now I take
genus in Latin to have much the same signification with birth in
English ; both in their primary meaning expressing simply descent,
but both made to stand mr t^oyjiv for noble descent. Genus is thus
used in Hor. lib. ii. Sat. v. 8.—
1 It is very strange that Johnson, who in his letter quotes the ^Eneid,
should not have recollected this obvious and decisive authority for spes
altera, nor yet the remarkable use of these words, attributed to Cicero, by
Servius and Donatus : the expressions of the latter are conclusive in Mr.
Boswell's favour :—" At cum Cicero quosdam versus (Virgilii) audisset,in
fine ait: 'Magnae spes altera Romas.'—Quasi ipse linguce Latince spes
prima fuisset, et Maro futurus esset secunda." Donat. vit. Virg. § 41.—
Croker.
430
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
4 Et genus et virtus, nisi cum re, vilior alga est/
And in lib. i. Epist. vi. 37.—
' Et genus et formam Regina Pecunia donat.'
And in the celebrated contest between Ajax and Ulysses, Ovid's
Metamorph. lib. xiii. 140:—
' Nam genus et proavos, et quae non fecimus ipsi,
Vix ea nostra voco.'
" Homines nullius originis, for nullis orti majoribus, or nullo loco
nati, is, ' you are afraid, barbarous.'
" Origo is used to signify extraction, as in Virg. vEneid i. 286:—
' Nascetur pulchra Trojanus origine Caesar
and in ^Eneid x. 618:—
' Ille tamen nostra deducit origine nomen.'
and as nullus is used for obscure, is it not in the genius of the Latin
language to write nullius originis, for obscure extraction ?
" I have defended myself as well as I could.
" Might I venture to differ from you with regard to the utility of
vows ? I am sensible that it would be very dangerous to make vows
rashly, and without a due consideration. But I cannot help thinking
that they may often be of great advantage*to one of a variable judg¬
ment and irregular inclinations. I always remember a passage in one
of your letters to our Italian friend Baretti; where, talking of the
monastic life, you say you do not wonder that serious men should
put themselves under the protection of a religious order, when they
have found how unable they are to take care of themselves. For my
own part, without affecting to be a Socrates, I am sure I have a more
than ordinary struggle, to maintain with the Evil Principle; and all
the methods I can devise are little enough to keep me tolerably steady
in the paths of rectitude.
" I am ever, with the highest veneration, your affectionate humble
servant, "James Boswell."
It appears from Johnson's diary, that he was this year at
Mr. Thrale's,1 from before Midsummer till after Michaelmas,
1 " In the year 1766, Mr. Johnson's health grew so bad, that he could
riot stir out of his room, in the court he inhabited, for many weeks together
—I think months. Mr. Thrale's attentions and my own now became so
*T. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
431
and that he afterwards passed a month at Oxford. He had
then contracted a great intimacy with Mr. Chambers of that
University, afterwards Sir Robert Chambers, one of the Judges
in India.
He published nothing this year in his own name; but the
noble Dedication * to the King, of Gwyn's " London and
Westminster Improved," 1 was written by him ; and he fur¬
nished the Preface, f and several of the pieces, which compose
a volume of Miscellanies by Mrs. Anna Williams, the blind
lady who had an asylum in his house.2 Of these, there are his
acceptable to him, that he often lamented to us the horrible condition of
his mind, which he said was nearly distracted ; and though he charged us
to make him odd solemn promises of secrecy on so strange a subject, yet
when we waited on him one morning, and heard him, in the most pathetic
terms, beg the prayers of Dr. Delap [Rector of Lewes], who had left him
as we came in, I felt excessively affected with grief, and well remember
that my husband involuntarily lifted up one hand to shut his mouth, from
provocation at hearing a man so wildly proclaim what he could at last
persuade no one to believe, and what, if true, would have been so very
unfit to reveal. Mr. Thrale went away soon after, leaving me with him,
and bidding me prevail on him to quit his close habitation in the court and
come with us to Streatham, where I undertook the care of his health, and
had the honour and happiness of contributing to its restoration." Piozzi's
Anecdotes, p. 126-7.—Croker.
1 In this work Mr. Gwyn proposed the principle, and in many instances
the details, of the most important improvements which have been made in
the metropolis in our day. A bridge near Somerset House—a great street
from the Haymarket to the New Road—the improvement of the interior
of St. James's Park—quays along the Thames—new approaches to London
Bridge—the removal of Smithfield market, and several other suggestions
on which we pride ourselves as original designs of our own times, are all
to be found in Mr. Gwyn's able and curious work. It is singular, that he
denounced a row of houses then building in Pimlico, as intolerable
nuisances to Buckingham Palace, and of these very houses the public
voice now calls for the destruction. Gwyn had, what Lord Chatham
called, " the prophetic eye of taste."—Croker.
2 The following account of this publication was given by Lady Knight
(see antl, note 2, pp. 183-184). "As to her poems, she many years
attempted to publish them, the half-crowns she had got towards the publi¬
cation, she confessed to me, went for necessaries, and that the greatest
pain she ever felt was from the appearance of defrauding her sub¬
scribers : 'but what can I do? the Doctor [Johnson] always puts me off
with "Well, we'll think about itand Goldsmith says, "Leave it to me.'"
432
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
"Epitaph on Philips,"* "Translation of a Latin Epitaph on
Sir Thomas Hanmer f " Friendship, an Ode* and, " The
Ant," * a paraphrase from the Proverbs, of which I have a copy
in his own handwriting; and, from internal evidence, I ascribe
to him, "To Miss , on her giving the Author a gold and
silk network Purse of her own weaving f1 and "The happy-
Life." f—Most of the pieces in this volume have evidently re¬
ceived additions from his superior pen, particularly " Verses to
Mr. Richardson, on his ' Sir Charles Grandison" " The Ex¬
cursion " Reflections on a Grave digging in Westminster
Abbey." There is in this collection a poem, " On the death
of Stephen Grey, the Electrician which, on reading it, ap¬
peared to me to be undoubtedly Johnson's. I asked Mrs.
Williams whether it was not his. " Sir," said she, with some
warmth, " I wrote that poem before I had the honour of Dr.
Johnson's acquaintance." I, however, was so much impressed
with my first notion, that I mentioned it to Johnson, repeat¬
ing, at the same time, what Mrs. Williams had said. His
answer was, " It is true, Sir, that she wrote it before she was
acquainted with me; but she has not told you that I wrote it
all over again, except two lines." 2 " The Fountains," -J- a
However, two of her friends, under her directions, made a new subscrip¬
tion at a crown, the whole price of the work, and in a very little time
raised sixty pounds. Mrs. Carter was applied to by Mrs. Williams's desire,
and she, with the utjnost activity and kindness, procured a long list of
names. At length the work was published, in which is a fine written but
gloomy [fairy] tale of Dr. Johnson. The money (,£150) Mrs. Williams
had various uses for, and a part of it was funded."—Malone.
1 See ajite, note, p. 136, where it is shown that the " Verses on the
Purse "areby Hawkesworth. It is strange that Boswell should there state
his belief that both the Latin epitaph on Hanmer and its translation
were Johnson's, when it appears on the face of Mrs. Williams's volume,
that it (I presume the Latin) was " written by Dr. Friend," who was
celebrated for this species of composition.—Croker.
2 These lines record a memorable fact which I have not seen elsewhere
noticed. Miss Williams, it seems, in her earlier life, had been an assistant
to Gray in his electrical experiments, and mention is made of
" the electric flame :—
" The flame which first, weak pupil of thy lore,
" I saw—condemned, alas ! to see no more."
JET. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
433
beautiful little Fairy tale in prose, written with exquisite sim¬
plicity, is one of Johnson's productions ; and I cannot withhold
from Mrs. Thrale the praise of being the author of that ad¬
mirable poem, "The Three Warnings."
He wrote this year a letter, not intended for publication,
which has, perhaps, as strong marks of his sentiment and
style, as any of his compositions. The original is in my
possession. It is addressed to the late Mr. William Drum-
mond, bookseller, in Edinburgh, a gentleman of good family,
but small estate, who took arms for the house of Stuart in
1745; and during his concealment in London till the act of
general pardon came out, obtained the acquaintance of Dr.
Johnson, who justly esteemed him as a very worthy man. It
seems some of the members of the Society in Scotland for
propagating Christian knowledge had opposed the scheme of
translating the Holy Scriptures into the Erse or Gaelic lan¬
guage, from political considerations of the disadvantage of
keeping up the distinction between the Highlanders and the
other inhabitants of North Britain. Dr. Johnson being in¬
formed of this, I suppose by Mr. Drummond, wrote with a
generous indignation as follows :—
TO MR. WILLIAM DRUMMOND.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, Aug. 13, 1766.
" Sir,
" I did not expect to hear that it could be, in an assembly con¬
vened for the propagation of Christian knowledge, a question whether
any nation uninstructed in religion should receive instruction; or
whether that instruction should be imparted to them by a translation
of the holy books into their own language. If obedience to the will of
God be necessary to happiness, and knowledge of his will be necessary
to obedience, I know not how he that withholds this knowledge, or
delays it, can be said to love his neighbour as himself. He that
voluntarily continues ignorance is guilty of all the crimes which
To which is appended a note, saying, " The publisher of this Miscellany,
as she was assisting Mr. Gray in his experiments, was the first that ob¬
served and notified the emission of the electric spark from the human
body." Misc., p. 42.—Croker.
F F
434
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1766.
ignorance produces; as to him that should extinguish the tapers of a
light-house, might justly be imputed the calamities of shipwrecks.
Christianity is the highest perfection of humanity; and as no man is
good but as he wishes the good of others, no man can be good in the
highest degree, who wishes not to others the largest measures of the
greatest good. To omit for a year, or for a day, the most efficacious
method of advancing Christianity, in compliance with any purposes
that terminate on this side of the grave, is a crime of which I know
not that the world has yet had an example, except in the practice of
the planters of America,—a race of mortals whom, I suppose, no
other man wishes to resemble.
"The Papists have, indeed, denied to the laity the use of the
Bible; but this prohibition, in few places now very rigorously en¬
forced, is defended by arguments, which have for their foundation
the care of souls. To obscure, upon motives merely political, the
light of revelation, is a practice reserved for the reformed ; and, surely,
the blackest midnight of popery is meridian sunshine to such a re¬
formation. I am not very willing that any language should be totally
extinguished. The similitude and derivation of languages afford the
most indubitable proof of the traduction of nations, and the genea¬
logy of mankind. They add often physical certainty to historical
evidence; and often supply the only evidence of ancient migrations,
and of the revolutions of ages which left no written monuments
behind them.
" Every man's opinions, at least his desires, are a little influenced
by his favourite studies. My zeal for languages may seem, perhaps,
rather over-heated, even to those by whom I desire to be well
esteemed. To those who have nothing in their thoughts but trade or
policy, present power, or present money, I should not think it neces¬
sary to defend my opinions ; but with men of letters I would not un¬
willingly compound, by wishing the continuance of every language,
however narrow in its extent, or however incommodious for common
purposes, till it is reposited in some version of a known book, that it
may be always hereafter examined and compared with other languages,
and then permitting its disuse. For this purpose, the translation of
the Bible is most to be desired. It is not certain that the same
method will not preserve the Highland language, for the purposes of
learning, and abolish it from daily use. When the Highlanders read
the Bible, they will naturally wish to have its obscurities cleared, and
to know the history, collateral or appendant. Knowledge always de¬
sires increase : it is like fire, which must first be kindled by some ex-
JET. 57.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
435
ternal agent, but which will afterwards propagate itself. When they
once desire to learn, they will naturally have recourse to the nearest
language by which that desire can be gratified; and one will tell
another, that if he would attain knowledge, he must learn English.
" This speculation may, perhaps, be thought more subtle than the
grossness of real life will easily admit. Let it, however, be remem¬
bered, that the efficacy of ignorance has long been tried, and has not
produced the consequence expected. Let knowledge, therefore,
take its turn; and let the patrons of privation stand awhile aside,
and admit the operation of positive principles.
"You will be pleased, Sir, to assure the worthy man who is em
ployed in the new translation,1 that he has my wishes for his success ;
and if here or at Oxford I can be of any use, that I shall think it more
than honour to promote his undertaking.
" I am sorry that I delayed so long to write. I am, Sir, your most
humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
The opponents of this pious scheme being made ashamed
of their conduct, the benevolent undertaking was allowed to
go on.
The following letters, though not written till the year after,
being chiefly upon the same subject, are here inserted.
TO MR. WILLIAM DRUMMOND.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, April 21, 1767.
" Dear Sir,
" That my letter should have had such effects as you mention,
gives me great pleasure. I hope you do not flatter me by imputing
1 The Rev. Mr. John Campbell, minister of the parish of Kippen, near
Stirling, who has lately favoured me with a long, intelligent, and very
obliging letter upon this work, makes the following remark :—" Dr. John¬
son has alluded to the worthy man employed in the translation of the New
Testament. Might not this have afforded you an opportunity of paying a
proper tribute of respect to the memory of the Rev. Mr. James Stuart, late
minister of Killin, distinguished by his eminent piety, learning, and taste ?
The amiable simplicity of his life, his warm benevolence, his indefatigable
and successful exertions for civilising and improving the parish of which he
was minister for upwards of fifty years, entitle him to the gratitude of his
country, and the veneration of all good men. It certainly would be a pity,
if such a character should be permitted to sink into oblivion." [Note in
the Third Edition, vol. ii. p. 30.—Editor.J
43^
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1767.
to me more good than I have really done. Those whom my argu¬
ments have persuaded to change their opinion, show such modesty
and candour as deserve great praise.
" I hope the worthy translator goes diligently forward. He has a
higher reward in prospect than any honours which this world can
bestow. I wish I could be useful to him.
" The publication of my letter, if it could be of use in a cause to
which all other causes are nothing, I should not prohibit. But first,
I would have you to consider whether the publication will really do
any good; next, whether by printing and distributing a very small
number, you may not attain all that you propose ; and, what perhaps
I should have said first, whether the letter, which I do not now per¬
fectly remember, be fit to be printed. If you can consult Dr. Robert¬
son, to whom I am a little known, I shall be satisfied about the
propriety of whatever he shall direct. If he thinks that it should be
printed, I entreat him to revise it; there may, perhaps, be some
negligent lines written, and whatever is amiss, he knows very well how
to rectify.1 Be pleased to let me know, from time to time, how this
excellent design goes forward.
" Make my compliments to young Mr. Drummond, whom I hope
you will live to see such as you desire him. I have not lately seen
Mr. Elphinston, but believe him to be prosperous. I shall be glad to
hear the same of you, for I am, Sir, your affectionate humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, Oct. 24, 1767.
" Sir,
" I returned this week from the country, after an absence of
near six months, and found your letter with many others, which I
should have answered sooner, if I had sooner seen them.
" Dr. Robertson's opinion was surely right. Men should not be
told of the faults which they have mended. I am glad the old lan¬
guage is taught, and honour the translator, as a man whom God has
distinguished by the high office of propagating his word.
" I must take the liberty of engaging you in an office of charity.
Mrs. Heely, the wife of Mr. Heely, who had lately some office in your
theatre, is my near relation, and now in great distress. They wrote
1 This paragraph shows Johnson's real estimation of the character and
abilities of the celebrated Scottish Historian, however lightly, in a moment
of caprice, he may have spoken of his works.
JET. 58.
boswell's life of johkson.
437
me word of their situation some time ago, to which I returned them
an answer which raised hopes of more than it is proper for me to give
them. Their representation of their affairs I have discovered to be
such as cannot be trusted ; and at this distance, though their case re¬
quires haste, I know not how to act. She, or her daughters, may be
heard of at Canongate head. I must beg, Sir, that you will enquire
after them, and let me know what is to be done. I am willing to go
to ten pounds, and will transmit you such a sum, if upon examina¬
tion you find it likely to be of use. If they are in immediate want,
advance them what you think proper. What I could do I would do
for the woman, having no great reason to pay much regard to Heely
himself.1
" I believe you may receive some intelligence from Mrs. Baker of
the theatre, whose letter I received at the same time with yours; and
to whom, if you see her, you will make my excuse for the seeming
neglect of answering her.
" Whatever you advance within ten pounds shall be immediately
returned to you, or paid as you shall order. I trust wholly to your
judgment. I am, Sir, &c., " Sam. Johnson."
Mr. Cuthbert Shaw,2 alike distinguished by his genius, mis¬
fortunes, and misconduct, published this year a poem, called
" The Race, by Mercurius Spur, Esq.," in which he whimsically
made the living poets of England contend for pre-eminence of
fame by running:
" Prove by their heels the prowess of the head."
In this poem there was the following portrait of Johnson.
" Here Johnson comes,—unblest with outward grace,
His rigid morals stamp'd upon his face;
While strong conceptions struggle in his brain ;
(For even wit is brought to bed with pain :)
To view him, porters with their loads would rest,
And babes cling frighted to the nurses' breast.
1 This is the person concerning whom Sir John Hawkins (Life of John¬
son, p. 596, et seqq.) has thrown out very unwarrantable reflections both
against Dr. Johnson and Mr. Francis Barber.
2 See an account of him in the European Magazine, January, 1786.
Cuthbert Shaw was born in 1738 or 1739, and died, overloaded with
complicated distress, in Titchfield Street, Oxford Market, Sept. 1, 1771.—
Wright.
438
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1767.
With looks convulsed he roars in pompous strain,
And, like an angry lion, shakes his mane.
The Nine, with terror struck, who ne'er had seen
Aught human with so terrible a mien,
Debating whether they should stay or run,
Virtue steps forth, and claims him for her son.
With gentle speech she warns him now to yield,
Nor stain his glories in the doubtful field;
But, wrapt in conscious worth, content sit down,
Since Fame, resolved his various pleas to crown,
Though forced his present claim to disavow,
Had long reserved a chaplet for his brow.
He bows, obeys ; for Time shall first expire,
Ere Johnson stay, when Virtue bids retire."
The Hon. Thomas Hervey1 and his lady having unhappily
disagreed, and being about to separate, Johnson interfered as
their friend, and wrote him a letter of expostulation, which I
have not been able to find ; but the substance of it is ascer¬
tained by a letter to Johnson in answer to it, which Mr. Hervey
printed. The occasion of this correspondence between Dr.
Johnson and Mr. Hervey was thus related to me by Mr. Beau-
clerk. "Tom Hervey had a great liking for Johnson, and in
his will had left him a legacy of fifty pounds. One day he
said to me, 'Johnson may want this money now, more than
afterwards. I have a mind to give it him directly. Will you
be so good as to carry a fifty pound note from me to him ?'
This I positively refused to do, as he might, perhaps, have
knocked me down for insulting him, and have afterwards put
the note in his pocket. But I said, if Hervey would write him
a letter, and enclose a fifty pound note, I should take care to
deliver it. He accordingly did write him a letter, mention¬
ing that he was only paying a legacy a little sooner. To his
letter he added, P.S. I am going to part with my wifeJohn-
1 The Hon. Thomas Hervey, whose " Letter to Sir Thomas Hanmer " in
1742, was much read at that time. He was the second son of John, first
Earl of Bristol, and one of the brothers of Johnson's early friend, Henry
Hervey. He [was born in 1698], married, in 1744, Anne, daughter of Francis
Coughlan, Esq., and died Jan. 20, 1775.—-Malone.
JET. 58.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
439
son then wrote to him, saying nothing of the note, but remon¬
strating with him against parting with his wife."
When I mentioned to Johnson this story, in as delicate terms
as I could, he told me that the fifty pound note was given 1 to
1 This is not inconsistent with Mr. Beauclerk's account. It may have
been in consideration of this pamphlet that Hervey left Johnson the fifty
pounds in his will, and on second thoughts he may have determined to
send it to him. It were, however, to be wished that the story had stood on
its original ground. The acceptance of an anticipated legacy from a friend
would have had nothing objectionable in it; but can so much be said for
the employment of one's pen for hire, in the disgusting squabbles of so
mischievous and profligate a madman as Mr. Thomas Hervey ? " He was
well known," says the gentle biographer of the Peerage (Sir Egerton
Brydges), " for his genius and eccentricities." The Letter to Sir Thomas
Hanmer, above mentioned, was the first (1741), it is believed, of the many
appeals which Mr. Hervey made to the public, relative to his private con¬
cerns. The subject is astonishing. Lady Hanmer eloped from her hus¬
band with Mr. Hervey, and made, it seems, a will in his favour, of certain
estates, of which Sir Thomas had a life possession. Hervey's letter avows
the adultery, and assigns very strange reasons for the lady's leaving her
husband, and then goes on to complain, that Sir Thomas was cutting tim¬
ber on the estate which had belonged to " our wife," so he calls her, and of
which the reversion was Hervey's, and begging that, if Hanmer did sell any
more timber, he would give him, Hervey, the refusal of it. All this is
garnished and set off by extravagant flights of fine writing, the most cutting
sarcasms, the most indecent details, and the most serious expressions of the
writer's conviction, that his conduct was natural and delicate, and such as
every body must approve ; and that, finally, in Heaven, Lady Hanmer, in
the distribution of wives (suam cuique), would be considered as his. Twenty
years did not cool his brain. Just at the close of the reign he addressed a
letter to King George the Second, which still more clearly explains the state
of his intellect. He talks, amidst a great deal of scandalous extravagance,
of " the hideous subject of his mental excruciationand complains that his
doctor mistook his case, by calling that a nervoics disorder which was clearly
inflammatory, and, in consequence of that fatal error, Hervey "passed
eleven years without any more account of time, or other notice of things,
than a person asleep, under the influence of some horrid dreamand so on.
It is this letter which Horace Walpole thus characterises : " Have you seen
Tom Hervey's letter to the king? full of absurdity and madness, but with
here and there gleams of genius and happy expressions that are wonder¬
fully fine."—Letter to Comvay, Dec., 1766. His quarrel with his second
wife in 1767, referred to in the text, he, according to his custom, blazoned
to the public by the following advertisement : " Whereas Mrs. Hervey
has been three times from home last year, and at least as many the year
440
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1767.
him by Mr. Hervey in consideration of his having written for
him a pamphlet against Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, who,
Mr. Hervey imagined, was the author of an attack upon him ;
but that it was afterwards discovered to be the work of a gar¬
reteer,' who wrote " The Fool;" the pamphlet therefore against
Sir Charles was not printed.
In February, 1767, there happened one of the most remark¬
able incidents of Johnson's life, which gratified his monarchical
enthusiasm, and which he loved to relate with all its circum¬
stances, when requested by his friends. This was his being
honoured by a private conversation with his Majesty, in the
library at the Queen's house.2 He had frequently visited those
splendid rooms and noble collection of books,3 which he used
before, without my leave or privity, and hath encouraged her son to persist
in the like rebellious practices, I hereby declare, that I neither am nor will
be accountable for any future debts of hers whatsoever. She is now keeping
forcible possession of my house, to which I never did invite or thought
of inviting her in all my life.—Thomas Hervey." He afterwards pro¬
ceeded further, and commenced a suit against his lady for jactitation of
marriage, which finally ended in his discomfiture. Johnson, as we shall
see hereafter (6th April, 1775), characterised his friend, Tom Hervey, as
he had already done his brother Henry, as very vicious. Alas ! it is
but too probable, that both were disordered in mind, and that what was
called vice was, in truth, disease, and required a madhouse rather than a
prison.—Croker.
1 Some curiosity would naturally be felt as to who the garreteer was
who wrote a pamphlet, which was attributed to Sir C. H. Williams,
the most celebrated wit of the day, and to answer which, the wild and
sarcastic genius of Hervey required the assistance of Dr. Johnson. His
name was William Horsley, but his acknowledged works are poor produc¬
tions.—Croker.
2 Buckingham House in St. James's Park, built in 1703, for Sheffield,
Duke of Buckingham, bought in 1761 by George III. for 21,000/., and
settled on Queen Charlotte in lieu of Somerset House. All their children
(George IV. excepted) were born in this house. The present Buckingham
Palace occupies the site.—P. Cunningham.
3 Dr. Johnson had the honour of contributing his assistance towards the
formation of this library ; for I have read a long letter from him to Mr.
Barnard, giving the most masterly instructions on the subject. I wished
much to have gratified my readers with the perusal of this letter, and have
reason to think that his Majesty would have been graciously pleased to
JET. 58.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
441
to say was more numerous and curious than he supposed any
person could have made in the time which the King had em¬
ployed. Mr. Barnard, the librarian, took care that he should
have every accommodation 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 round to the apartment where the
King was, and, in obedience to his Majesty's commands, men¬
tioned that Dr. Johnson was then in the library. His Majesty
said he was at leisure, and would go to him ; upon which Mr.
Barnard took one of the candles that stood upon 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.1
permit its publication ; but Mr. Barnard, to whom I applied, declined it
" on his Q^account.'^ ^.(hxX
Mr. Darna4'd'G^letter,^he recovery of which is due to Mr. Croker, will
be found in the appendix to this volume.—Editor.
1 The particulars of this conversation I have been at great pains to col¬
lect with the utmost authenticity, from Dr. Johnson's own detail to myself;
from Mr. Langton, who was present when he gave an account of it to Dr.
Joseph Warton and several other friends at Sir Joshua Reynolds's ; from
Mr. Barnard ; from the copy of a letter written by the late Mr. Strahan
the printer, to Bishop Warburton ; and from a minute, the original of
which is among the papers of the late Sir James Caldwell, and a copy of
which was most obligingly obtained for me from his son Sir John Cald¬
well, by Sir Francis Lumm. To all these gentlemen I beg leave to make
my grateful acknowledgments, and particularly to Sir Francis Lumm,
who was pleased to take a great deal of trouble, and even had the minute
laid before the King by Lord Caermarthen, now Duke of Leeds, then one
442
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1767.
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 inquired if he was then writing any thing. He
answered, he was not, for he had pretty well told the world
of his Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State, who announced to Sir
Francis the royal pleasure concerning it by a letter, in these words :—" I
have the King's commands to assure you, Sir, how sensible his Majesty is
of your attention in communicating the minute of the conversation previous
to its publication. As there appears no objection to your complying with
Mr. Boswell's wishes on the subject, you are at full liberty to deliver it to
that gentleman, to make such use of in his Life of Dr. Johnson, as he may
think proper."
The account of this conversation Boswell honoured with a separate
publication under the title :—"A Conversation between his Most Sacred
Majesty George III. and Samuel Johnson, LL.D., illustrated with Ob¬
servations by James Boswell, Esq. London : Printed by Henry Baldwin
for Charles Dilly, in the Poultry, 1790. (Price half a guinea.)" And
with the same publisher and in the same year, 1790, he gave :—"The
Celebrated Letter from Samuel Johnson, LL.D., to Philip Dormer Stan¬
hope, Earl of Chesterfield, now first published with notes by James Bos¬
well, Esq. Price half a guinea." The former consists of two leaves ;
the latter of one leaf.—Editor.
JET. 58.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
443
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
labours, then said, " I do not think you borrow much from any
body." 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." Johnson observed to
me, upon this, that " No man could have paid a handsomer
compliment;1 and it was fit for a King to pay. It was deci¬
sive." 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 univer-
1 Johnson himself imitated it to Paoli (see post, Oct. 10, 1769) ; and it
has indeed become one of the common-places of compliment—regis ad
exemplar. Hawkins has preserved a compliment of the same kind by
George II., which, of a prince not celebrated for such things, seems worth
repeating. Mr. Thornton of Yorkshire raised, at his own expense, a regi¬
ment of horse, and though newly married to a beautiful young lady,
marched at the head of it with the King's army. After the rebellion, he
and his wife went to court, when the King, who had noticed Mrs. Thornton,
said to him, " Mr. Thornton, I have been told of your services to your
country, and your attachment to my family, and have held myself obliged
to you for both ; but I was never able to appreciate the degree of the
obligation till I had seen the lady you left behind you."—Life of Johnson,
p. 459 (note).—Croker.
444
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1767.
sality.1 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 in 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 Lyttel-
ton's History, which was then just published. Johnson 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," an¬
swered Johnson, " not to Kings." But fearing to be misunder¬
stood, he proceeded to explain himself; and immediately sub¬
joined, "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 favoured 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.2
1 The Rev. Mr. Strahan clearly recollects having been told by Johnson,
that the King observed that Pope made Warburton a bishop. " True,
Sir," said Johnson, "but Warburton did more for Pope ; he made him a
Christian : " alluding, no doubt, to his ingenious comments on the Essay
on Man.
2 John Hill, M.D., who assumed latterly the title of Sir John, on receiv¬
ing a Swedish order of Knighthood. This literary and medical quack died
in 1775. Garrick's Epigram is well known :—
" For physic and farces, his equal there scarce is;
His farces are physic, his physic a farce is."
—Lockhart.
JET. 58.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
445
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 magnified
to a much greater degree by using three or four microscopes
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 tell¬
ing it clumsily ; for, if that be the case, every one who can
look through a microscope will be able to detect him." 1
" 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.2 The King then asked him if there
1 Here, Bishop Elrington observed, Dr. Johnson was unjust to Hill, and
showed that he did not understand the subject. Hill does not talk of
magnifying objects by two or more microscopes, but by applying two object
glasses to one microscope ; and the advantage of diminished spherical
errors by this contrivance is well known. Hill's account of the experiment
is obscurely and inaccurately expressed in one or two particulars ; but
there can be no doubt that he is substantially right, and that Dr. Johnson's
statement was altogether unfounded.—Croker.
2 Mr. Gibbon, however, about the same time (1763) gave a different
judgment :—" I can hardly express how much I am delighted with the
Journal des Savans; its characteristics are erudition, precision, and taste ;
446 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1767.
were any other literary journals published in this kingdom,
except the Monthly and Critical Reviews ; and on being an¬
swered 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, ene¬
mies to the Church. This the King said he was sorry to hear.
The conversation next turned on the Philosophical Transac¬
tions, 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 biography
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 behaviour. 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."1
At Sir Joshua Reynolds's, where a circle of Johnson's friends
was collected round him to hear his account of this memo¬
rable conversation, Dr. Joseph Warton, in his frank and lively
but what I most admire is that impartiality and candour which distinguish
the beauties and defects of a work, giving to the former due and hearty
praise, and calmly and tenderly pointing out the latter." Misc. Works,
vol. ii. 4to. edit. p. 259.—Lockhart.
1 This reminds us of Madame de Sevignd's charming naivete, when after
giving an account of Louis XIV. having danced with her, she adds, " Ah !
c'est le plus grand roi du monde !"—Croker.
JET. 58. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 447
manner, was very active in pressing him to mention the particu¬
lars. " Come now, Sir, this is an interesting matter ; do favour
us with it." Johnson, with great good-humour, 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
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 reverential
awe.
During all the time in which Dr. Johnson was employed in
relating to the circle at Sir Joshua Reynolds's the particulars
of what passed between the King and him, Dr. Goldsmith re¬
mained unmoved upon a sofa at some distance, affecting not to
join in the least in the eager curiosity of the company. He as¬
signed as a reason for his gloom and seeming inattention, that
he apprehended Johnson had relinquished his purpose of fur¬
nishing 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
honour Dr. Johnson had lately enjoyed. At length, the frank¬
ness and simplicity of his natural character 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." 1
1 It is remarkable that Johnson should have seen four, if not five, of our
sovereigns, and been in the actual presence of three if not four of them.
Queen Anne touched him ; George the First he probably never saw ; but
George the Second he must frequently have seen, though only in public.
George the Third he conversed with on this occasion; and he once told
Sir John Hawkins, that, in a visit to Mrs. Percy, who had the care of one
of the young princes, at the Queen's house, the Prince of Wales, afterwards
George IV., being a child, came into the room, and began to play about ;
448
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1767.
I received no letter from J ohnson this year; nor have I dis¬
covered any of the correspondence 1 he had, except the two
letters to Mr. Drummond, which have been inserted for the
sake of connection with that to the same gentleman in 1766.
His diary affords no light as to his employment at this time.
He passed three months at Lichfield : and I cannot omit an
affecting and solemn scene there, as related by himself:—
"Sunday, Oct. 18, 1767. Yesterday, Oct. 17, at about ten in the
morning, I took my leave for ever of my dear old friend, Catherine
Chambers, who came to live with my mother about 1724, and has
been but little parted from us since. She buried my father, my
brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-eight years old.
" I desired all to withdraw, then told her that we were to part for
ever; that as Christians, we should part with prayer; and that I would,
if she was willing, say a short prayer beside her. She expressed great de¬
sire to hear me; and held up her poor hands, as she lay in bed, with
great fervour, while I prayed, kneeling by her, nearly in the following
words :—
"Almighty and most merciful Father, whose loving kindness is
over all thy works, behold, visit, and relieve this thy servant, who is
grieved with sickness. Grant that the sense of her weakness may
add strength to her faith, and seriousness to her repentance. And
grant that by the help of thy Holy Spirit, after the pains and labours
of this short life, we may all obtain everlasting happiness, through
Jesus Christ our Lord, for whose sake hear our prayers. Amen.
Our Father, &c.
" I then kissed her. She told me, that to part was the greatest
when Johnson, with his usual curiosity, took an opportunity of asking him
what books he was reading, and, in particular, inquired as to his knowledge
of the Scriptures ; the Prince, in his answers, gave him great satisfaction.
It is possible, also, that at that visit he might have seen Prince William
Henry (William IV.), who was, I think, as well as the Duke of Kent, under
Mrs. Percy's care.—Croker.
1 It is proper here to mention, that when I speak of his correspondence,
I consider it independent of the voluminous collection of letters, which, in
the course of many years, he wrote to Mrs. Thrale,—which forms a sepa¬
rate part of his works ; and, as a proof of the high estimation set on any
thing which came from his pen, was sold by that lady for the sum of five
hundred pounds.
ALT. 58.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
449
pain that she had ever felt, and that she hoped we should meet again
in a better place. I expressed, with swelled eyes, and great emotion
of tenderness, the same hopes. We kissed, and parted. I humbly
hope to meet again, and to part no more."1
By those who have been taught to look upon Johnson as a
man of a harsh and stern character, let this tender and affec¬
tionate scene be candidly read ; and let them then judge
whether more warmth of heart, and grateful kindness, is often
found in human nature.
We have the following notice in his devotional record:—
"August 2, 1767. I have been disturbed and unsettled for a long
time, and have been without resolution to apply to study or to busi¬
ness, being hindered by sudden snatches." 2
He, however, furnished Mr. Adams with a Dedication * to
the King of that ingenious gentleman's "Treatise on the
Globes," conceived and expressed in such a manner as could
not fail to be very grateful to a monarch, distinguished for his
love of the sciences.
This year was published a ridicule of his style, under the
title of " Lexiphanes." Sir John Hawkins ascribes it to Dr.
Kenrick ; but its author was one Campbell, a Scotch purser in
the navy.3 The ridicule consisted in applying Johnson's
" words of large meaning " to insignificant matters, as if one
should put the armour of Goliath upon a dwarf. The contrast
might be laughable; but the dignity of the armour must re¬
main the same in all considerate minds. This malicious
drollery, therefore, it may easily be supposed, could do no
harm to its illustrious object.
1 Prayers and Meditations, pp. 77-8.
Catherine Chambers, as Dr. Harwood informed me, died in a few days
after this interview, and was buried in St. Chad's, Lichfield, on the 7th of
Nov., 1767.—Croker.
2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 72.
3 Anderson (Life of Johnson, ed. 1815, p. 230) confirms Boswell's state¬
ment. It was the production of Mr. Archibald Campbell, son of Professor
Archibald Campbell, of St. Andrew's, a purser in the navy, and author of
The Sale of Authors, and other tracts.—Editor.
G G
450
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1767.
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.1
At Mr. Rothwell's, Perfumer, in New Bond Street.
"Lichfield, Oct. 10, 1767.
" Dear Sir,
"That you have been all summer in London is one more
reason for which I regret my long stay in the country. I hope that
you will not leave the town before my return. We have here only the
chance of vacancies in the passing carriages, and I have bespoken one
that may, if it happens, bring me to town on the fourteenth of this
month ; but this is not certain.
" It will be a favour if you communicate this to Mrs. Williams : I
long to see all my friends. I am, dear Sir, your most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
It appears from his notes of the state of his mind,2 that he
suffered great perturbation and distraction in 1768. Nothing
of his writings was given to the public this year, except the
Prologue * to his friend Goldsmith's comedy of " The Good-
natured Man." The first lines of this Prologue are strongly
characteristical of the dismal gloom of his mind ; which in his
case, as in the case of all who are distressed with the same
malady of imagination, transfers to others its own feelings.
Who could suppose it was to introduce a comedy, when Mr.
Bensley solemnly began,
" Press'd with the load of life, the weary mind
Surveys the general toil of human kind."
But this dark ground might make Goldsmith's humour shine
the more.3
1 This letter first appeared in the third edition, 1799, vol. ii., p. 45.
2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 81.
3 In this prologue, as Mr. John Taylor informs me, after the fourth
line—" And social sorrow loses half its pain "—the following couplet was
inserted:—
"Amidst the toils of this returning year,
When senators and nobles learn to fear,
Our little bard without complaint may share
The bustling season's epidemic care."
So the Prologue appeared in the Public Advertiser. Goldsmith probably
ALT. 59.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
451
In the spring of this year, having published my "Account
of Corsica,1 with the Journal of a Tour to that Island," I re¬
turned to London, very desirous to see Dr. Johnson, and hear
him upon the subject. I found he was at Oxford, with his
friend Mr. Chambers, who was now Vinerian Professor, and
lived in New-Inn Hall. Having had no letter from him since
that in which he criticised the Latinity of my Thesis, and
having been told by somebody that he was offended at my
having put into my book an extract of his letter to me at Paris,
I was impatient to be with him, and therefore followed him to
thought that the lines printed in Italic characters, which, however, seem
necessary, or at least improve the sense, might give offence, and therefore
prevailed on Johnson to omit them. The epithet little, which perhaps
the author thought might diminish his dignity, was also changed to anxious.
—Malone.
1 The exact title is as follows : " An account of Corsica, the Journal of a
Tour to that island ; and Memoirs of Pascal Paoli. By James Boswell.
Glasgow. Printed by R. and A. Foulis for E. and C. Dilly, in the Poultry,
London. 1768." " The attention of London Society had been attracted
to Corsica by a well-timed book of travels ; for Boswell, who had been
sent abroad to study law, had found his way to Paoli's head-quarters, and
returning home with plenty to tell, had written what is still by far the best
account of the island that has ever been published."—Trevelyan's Early
History of Charles James Fox, p. 153. London : Longman and Co. 1880.—
Editor.
" Mr. Boswell's book I was going to recommend to you when I
received your letter: it has pleased and moved me strangely, all (I
mean) that relates to Paoli. He is a man born two thousand years after
his time ! The pamphlet proves what I have always maintained, that
any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us
what he heard and saw with veracity. Of Mr. Boswell's truth I have not
the least suspicion, because I am sure he could invent nothing of this kind.
The true title of this part of his work is, a Dialogue between a Green-Goose
and a Hero. Gray to Horace Walpole, Feb. 25, 1768."—Works, Aldine
edition, vol. iv., p. 112. But again Mr. Trevelyan's estimate is more just:
" It is difficult to understand how Gray could have failed to recognise in the
volume which delighted him the indications of that rare faculty (whose
component elements the most distinguished critics have confessed them¬
selves unable to analyse), which makes every composition of Boswell
readable from what he intended to be a grave argument on a point of
law down to his most slip-shod verses and his silliest letters."—P. 154,
inote.—Editor.
452
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1768.
Oxford, where I was entertained by Mr. Chambers, with a civility
which I shall ever gratefully remember. I found that Dr.
Johnson had sent a letter to me to Scotland, and that I had
nothing to complain of but his being more indifferent to my
anxiety than I wished him to be. Instead of giving, with the
circumstances of time and place, such fragments of his conver¬
sation as I preserved during this visit to Oxford, I shall throw
them together in continuation.
I asked him whether, as a moralist, he did not think that
the practice of the law, in some degree, hurt the nice feeling
of honesty. JOHNSON. "Why no, Sir, if you act properly.
You are not to deceive your clients with false representations
of your opinion : you are not to tell lies to a Judge." Bos-
WELL. " But what do you think of supporting a cause which
you know to be bad ? " JOHNSON. " Sir, you do not know it
to be good or bad till the Judge determines it. I have said
that you are to state facts fairly : so that your thinking, or
what you call knowing, a cause to be bad, must be from
reasoning, must be from your supposing your arguments to be
weak and inconclusive. But, Sir, that is not enough. An
argument which does not convince yourself, may convince the
judge to whom you urge it : and if it does convince him, why,
then, Sir, you are wrong, and he is right. It is his business to
judge ; and you are not to be confident in your own opinion
that a cause is bad, but to say all you can for your client, and
then hear the judge's opinion. BOSWELL. " But, Sir, does not
affecting a warmth when you have no warmth, and appearing
to be clearly of one opinion when you are in reality of another
opinion, does not such dissimulation impair one's honesty ?
Is there not some danger that a lawyer may put on the same
mask in common life, in the intercourse with his friends ? "
JOHNSON. "Why no, Sir. Every body knows you are paid
for affecting warmth for your client; and it is, therefore, pro¬
perly no dissimulation : the moment you come from the bar
you resume your usual behaviour. Sir, a man will no more
carry the artifice of the bar into the common intercourse of
society, than a man who is paid for tumbling upon his hands
ALT. 59.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
453
will continue to tumble upon his hands when he should walk
on his feet."
Talking of some of the modern plays, he said, " False De¬
licacy"1 was totally void of character. He praised Gold¬
smith's " Good-natured Man ;" said it was the best comedy
that had appeared since " The Provoked Husband," and that
there had not been of late any such character exhibited on the
stage as that of Croaker. I observed it was the " Suspirius "
of his " Rambler." 2 He said, Goldsmith had owned he had
borrowed it from thence. " Sir," continued he, " there is all
the difference in the world between characters of nature and
characters of manners ; and there is the difference between the
characters of Fielding and those of Richardson. Characters
of manners are very entertaining ; but they are to be under¬
stood, by a more superficial observer than characters of nature,
where a man must dive into the recesses of the human heart."
It always appeared to me that he estimated the composi¬
tions of Richardson too highly, and that he had an un¬
reasonable prejudice against Fielding. In comparing these
two writers, he used this expression ; " that there was as great
a difference between them, as between a man who knew how
a watch was made, and a man who could tell the hour by
looking on the dial-plate." This was a short and figurative
state of his distinction between drawing characters of nature
and characters only of manners. But I cannot help being of
opinion, that the neat watches of Fielding are as well con¬
structed as the large clocks of Richardson, and that his dial-
plates are brighter. Fielding's characters, though they do not
expand themselves so widely in dissertation, are as just pic¬
tures of human nature, and I will venture to say, have more
striking features, and nicer touches of the pencil; and, though
Johnson used to quote with approbation a saying of Richard¬
son's, " that the virtues of Fielding's heroes were the vices of a
truly good man," I will venture to add, that the moral ten-
1 By Hugh Kelly, the poetical staymaker : he died, an. aetat. 38, Feb. 3,
1777.—Croker.
2 No. 59.
454
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1768.
dency of Fielding's writings, though it does not encourage a
strained and rarely possible virtue, is ever favourable to honour
and honesty, and cherishes the benevolent and generous affec¬
tions. He who is as good as Fielding would make him, is an
amiable member of society, and may be led on by more regu¬
lated instructors, to a higher state of ethical perfection.
Johnson proceeded: "Even Sir Francis Wronghead1 is a
character of manners, though drawn with great humour." He
then repeated, very happily, all Sir Francis's credulous account
to Manly of his being with "the great man," and securing a
place. I asked him if "The Suspicious Husband"2 did not
furnish a well-drawn character, that of Ranger. JOHNSON.
" No, Sir ; Ranger is just a rake, a mere rake, and a lively
young fellow, but no character."
The great Douglas Cause was at this time a very general
subject of discussion. I found he had not studied it with
much attention,3 but had only heard parts of it occasionally.
He, however, talked of it, and said, "I am of opinion that
positive proof of fraud should not be required of the plaintiff,
but that the Judges should decide according as probability
shall appear to preponderate, granting to the defendant the
presumption of filiation to be strong in his favour. And I
1 In The Provoked Husband, begun by Sir John Vanbrugb, and finished
by Colley Cibber.— Wright.
2 By Dr. Benjamin Hoadly, eldest son of Bishop Hoadly ; born Feb. xo,
1705; died Aug. 10, 1757. Garrick's inimitable performance of Ranger
was the main support of the piece during its first run. George II. was so
well pleased with this comedy, that he sent the author one hundred
pounds.— Wright.
Horace Walpole gives as a reason of George the Second's favour,
that one of the causes of suspicion against the innocent heroine (the
finding Ranger's hat) was the same with one of those alleged against his
mother, the Electress Dorothea—the hat of Count Konigsmark (the same
who caused the murder of Mr. Thynne) having been found in her apart¬
ment.—Croker.
3 Boswell, who was counsel on the side of Mr. Douglas, had published,
in 1766, a pamphlet entitled the Essence of the Douglas Cause, but which,
it will be seen, post, April 27, 1773, he could not induce Johnson even to
read.—Lockhart.
^T. 59.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
455
think too, that a good deal of weight should be allowed to the
dying declarations, because they were spontaneous. There is
a great difference between what is said without our being urged
to it, and what is said from a kind of compulsion. If I praise
a man's book without being asked my opinion of it, that is
honest praise, to which one may trust. But if an author asks
me if I like his book, and I give him something like praise, it
must not be taken as my real opinion."
" I have not been troubled for a long time with authors de¬
siring my opinion of their works. I used once to be sadly
plagued with a man who wrote verses, but who literally had no
other notion of a verse, but that it consisted of ten syllables.
Lay your knife and your fork across your plate, was to him a
verse :—
' Lay your knife and your fork across your plate.'
As he wrote a great number of verses, he sometimes by chance
made good ones, though he did not know it." 1
He renewed his promise of coming to Scotland, and going
with me to the Hebrides, but said he would now content him¬
self with seeing one or two of the most curious of them. He
said, " Macaulay, who writes the account of St. Kilda, set out
with a prejudice against prejudice, and wanted to be a smart
1 " Dr. Johnson did not like that his friends should bring their manu¬
scripts for him to read, and he liked still less to read them when they were
brought: sometimes, however, when he could not refuse, he would take
the play or poem, or whatever it was, and give the people his opinion from
some one page that he had peeped into. A gentleman carried him his tra¬
gedy, which, because he loved the author, Johnson took, and it lay about our
rooms at Streatham some time. ' What answer did you give your friend,
Sir ?' asked I, after the book had been called for. ' I told him,' replied
he, ' that there was too much Tig and Tirry in it.' Seeing me laugh most
violently, ' Why, what wouldst have, child ?' said he ; ' I looked at nothing
but the dramatis persona, and there was 7Ygranes and 7/Wdates, or Teri-
bazus, or such stuff."—Piozzi, Anecdotes, p. 280.
This was Murphy's tragedy of Zenobia, in which there are two charac¬
ters, Tigranes and Teribasus, whose names, abbreviated, as is usual in
plays, would be Tig. and Teri.—Croker.
456
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1768.
modern thinker; and yet he affirms for a truth, that when a
ship arrives there all the inhabitants are seized with a cold."
Dr. John Campbell, the celebrated writer, took a great deal
of pains to ascertain this fact, and attempted to account for it
on physical principles, from the effect of effluvia from human
bodies. Johnson, at another time,1 praised Macaulay for his
" magnanimity," in asserting this wonderful story, because it
was well attested. A lady of Norfolk, by a letter to my friend
Dr. Burney, has favoured me with the following solution :—
" Now for the explication of this seeming mystery, which is so very
obvious as, for that reason, to have escaped the penetration of Dr.
Johnson and his friend, as well as that of the author. Reading the
book with my ingenious friend, the late Rev. Mr. Christian of Dock¬
ing—after ruminating a little, ' The cause,' says he, ' is a natural one.
The situation of St. Kilda renders a north-east wind indispensably
necessary before a stranger can land. The wind, not the stranger,
occasions an epidemic cold. If I am not mistaken, Mr. Macaulay is
dead; if living, this solution might please him, as I hope it will Mr.
Boswell, in return for the many agreeable hours his works have
afforded us."2
Johnson expatiated on the advantages of Oxford for learn¬
ing. " There is here, Sir," said he, " such a progressive emula¬
tion. The students are anxious to appear well to their tutors ;
the tutors are anxious to have their pupils appear well in the
college ; the colleges are anxious to have their students appear
well in the university ; and there are excellent rules of disci¬
pline in every college. That the rules are sometimes ill ob¬
served may be true, but is nothing against the system. The
members of an university may, for a season, be unmindful of
their duty. I am arguing for the excellency of the institu¬
tion."
Of Guthrie, he said, " Sir, he is a man of parts. He has no
great regular fund of knowledge; but by reading so long, and
writing so long, he no doubt has picked up a good deal."
1 March 21, 1772.
s This paragraph was added in the second edition, vol. i., p. 510.—
Editor.
AT. 59-
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
457
He said he had lately been a long while at Lichfield, but
had grown very weary before he left it. BOSWELL. " I wonder
at that, Sir; it is your native place." JOHNSON. " Why so is
Scotland your native place."
His prejudice against Scotland1 appeared remarkably strong
at this time. When I talked of our advancement in literature,
" Sir," said he, " you have learnt a little from us, and you think
yourselves very great men. Hume would never have written
history, had not Voltaire written it before him. He is an
echo of Voltaire." BOSWELL. " But, Sir, we have lord Kames."
JOHNSON. " You have lord Kames. Keep him ; ha, ha, ha !
We don't envy you him. Do you ever see Dr. Robertson ?"
BOSWELL. " Yes, Sir." JOHNSON. "Does the dog talk of
me ?" BOSWELL. " Indeed, Sir, he does, and loves you."
Thinking that I now had him in a corner, and being solicitous
for the literary fame of my country, I pressed him for his
opinion on the merit of Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland.
But to my surprise, he escaped.—" Sir, I love Robertson, and
I won't talk of his book."
It is but justice both to him and Dr. Robertson to add, that
though he indulged himself in this sally of wit, he had too
good taste not to be fully sensible of the merits of that ad¬
mirable work.
An essay, written by Mr. Dean, a divine of the Church of
England, maintaining the future life of brutes,2 by an explica¬
tion of certain parts of the Scriptures, was mentioned, and the
doctrine insisted on by a gentleman who seemed fond of curious
speculation; Johnson, who did not like to hear of anything
1 Johnson's invectives against Scotland, in common conversation, were
more in pleasantry and sport than real and malignant; for no man was
more visited by natives of that country, nor were there any for whom he
had a greater esteem. It was to Dr. Grainger, a Scottish physician, that
I owed my first acquaintance with Johnson, in 1756 —Percy.
2 An Essay on the Future Life of Brute Creatures, by Richard Dean,
curate of Middleton. This work is reviewed in the Gentleman's Magazine
for 1768, p. 177, in a style very like Johnson's ; and a story of "a very
sensible dog " is noticed with censure. So that it may probably have been
Johnson's.—Croker.
458
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
concerning a future state which was not authorised by the
regular canons of orthodoxy, discouraged this talk ; and being
offended at its continuation, he watched an opportunity to
give the gentleman a blow of reprehension. So, when the
poor speculatist, with a serious metaphysical pensive face,
addressed him, " But really, Sir, when we see a very sensible
dog, we don't know what to think of him Johnson, rolling
with joy at the thought which beamed in his eye, turned
quickly round, and replied, "True, Sir: and when we see a
very foolish fellow, we don't know what to think of himHe
then rose up, strided to the fire, and stood for some time
laughing and exulting.
I told that I had several times, when in Italy, seen the ex¬
periment of placing a scorpion within a circle of burning coals ;
that it ran round and round in extreme pain ; and finding no
way to escape, retired to the centre, and, like a true Stoic
philosopher, darted its sting into its head, and thus at once
freed itself from its woes. " This must end 'em!' I said, this
was a curious fact, as it showed deliberate suicide in a reptile.
Johnson would not admit the fact. He said, Maupertuis 1 was
of opinion that it does not kill itself, but dies of the heat; that
it gets to the centre of the circle, as the coolest place ; that its
turning its tail in upon its head is merely a convulsion, and that
1 I should think it impossible not to wonder at the variety of Johnson's
reading, however desultory it might have been. Who could have imagined
that the High Church of England-man would be so prompt in quoting
Maupertuis, who, I am sorry to think, stands in the list of those unfortu¬
nate mistaken men, who call themselves esprits forts ? I have, however,
a high respect for that philosopher, whom the great Frederic of Prussia
loved and honoured, and addressed pathetically in one of his poems—
" Maupertuis, cher Maupertuis,
Que notre vie est pen de chose."
There was in Maupertuis a vigour and yet a tenderness of sentiment,
united with strong intellectual powers, and uncommon ardour of soul.
Would he had been a Christian ! I cannot help earnestly venturing to
hope that he is one now.
Maupertuis died in 1759, at the age of 62, in the arms of the Bernoullis,
tres chretiennement.—Burney.
jet. 59.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
459
it does not sting itself. He said he would be satisfied if the
great anatomist Morgagni, after dissecting a scorpion on which
the experiment had been tried, should certify that its sting
had penetrated into its head.
He seemed pleased to talk of natural philosophy. " That
woodcocks," said he, " fly over the northern countries is proved,
because they have been observed at sea. Swallows certainly
sleep all the winter. A number of them conglobulate together,
by flying round and round, and then all in a heap throw them¬
selves under water, and lie in the bed of a river." 1 He told
us, one of his first essays was a Latin poem upon the glow¬
worm ; I am sorry I did not ask - where it was to be found.
Talking of the Russians and the Chinese, he advised me to
read Bell's " Travels." 2 I asked him whether I should read
Du Halde's " Account of China." " Why, yes," said he, " as
one reads such a book ; that is to say, consult it."
He talked of the heinousness of the crime of adultery, by
which the peace of families was destroyed. He said, " Con¬
fusion of progeny constitutes the essence of the crime; and
therefore a woman who breaks her marriage vows is much
more criminal than a man who does it. A man, to be sure, is
criminal in the sight of God ; but he does not do his wife a very
material injury, if he does not insult her ; if, for instance, from
mere wantonness of appetite, he steals privately to her chamber¬
maid. Sir, a wife ought not greatly to resent this. I would
not receive home a daughter who had run away from her hus-v
band on that account. A wife should study to reclaim her
husband by more attention to please him. Sir, a man will not,
once in a hundred instances, leave his wife and go to a harlot,
if his wife has not been negligent of pleasing."
Here he discovered that acute discrimination, that solid
judgment, and that knowledge of human nature, for which he
was upon all occasions remarkable. Taking care to keep in
1 This story has been entirely exploded.—Lockhart.
2 John Bell, of Antermony, who published at Glasgow, in 1763. in two
vols. 4to, Travels from St. Petersburgh, in Russia, to divers Parts of Asia.
—Croker.
460
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF johnson.
1768.
view the moral and religious duty, as understood in our nation,
he showed clearly, from reason and good sense, the greater
degree of culpability in the one sex deviating from it than the
other; and, at the same time, inculcated a very useful lesson
as to the way to keep him.
I asked him if it was not hard that one deviation from
chastity should so absolutely ruin a young woman. Johnson.
" Why no, Sir ; it is the great principle which she is taught.
When she has given up that principle, she has given up every
notion of female honour and virtue, which are all included in
chastity."
A gentleman talked to him of a lady whom he greatly ad¬
mired and wished to marry, but was afraid of her superiority
of talents. " Sir," said he, " you need not be afraid ; marry
her. Before a year goes about, you'll find that reason much
weaker, and that wit not so bright." Yet the gentleman may
be justified in his apprehension by one of Dr. Johnson's admi¬
rable sentences in his " Life of Waller : " " He doubtless praised
many whom he would have been afraid to marry ; and, per¬
haps, married one whom he would have been ashamed to
praise. Many qualities contribute to domestic happiness,
upon which poetry has no colours to bestow; and many airs
and sallies may delight imagination, which he who flatters
them never can approve."
He praised Signor Baretti. " His account of Italy is a
very entertaining book ; and, Sir, I know no man who car¬
ries his head higher in conversation than Baretti. There
are strong powers in his mind. He has not, indeed, many
hooks; but with what hooks he has,he grapples very forcibly."
At this time I observed upon the dial-plate of his watch a
short Greek inscription, taken from the New Testament,
yap Epxsrai, being the first words of our Saviour's solemn ad¬
monition to the improvement of that time which is allowed us
to prepare for eternity ; " the night cometh when no man can
work."1 He some time afterwards laid aside this dial-plate ;
1 (p\(tai vv'£, ote ovStiQ cvvarat.
spyd&oQai. John ix. 4.—Editor.
^T. 59.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
461
and when I asked him the reason, he said, " It might do very
well upon a clock which a man keeps in his closet; but to
have it upon his watch, which he carries about with him, and
which is often looked at by others, might be censured as osten¬
tatious." Mr. Steevens is now possessed of the dial-plate in¬
scribed as above.1
He remained at Oxford a considerable time,2 I was obliged
to go to London, where I received this letter, which had been
returned from Scotland.
TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" Oxford, March 23, 1768.
"My dear Boswell,
" I have omitted a long time to write to you, without knowing
very well why. I could now tell why I should not write; for who
would write to men who publish the letters of their friends, without
their leave ? 3 Yet I write to you in spite of my caution, to tell you
1 Notes and Queries completes the history of this watch.
" This watch is in my possession. My mother was niece to the sister
of George Steevens, which sister inherited this watch with the rest of
George Steevens' property. It is a metal watch with a tortoise shell case ;
no maker's name. The dial is inscribed, as mentioned by Boswell, with
the words, vv% yap 'epxerai, ' for the night cometh.' Boswell says the dial-
plate was given to Steevens. It seems unlikely that the dial should be
separated from the doctor's watch, to which it evidently belonged, and
which was worn by him. The watch also has inside the case the words :
' Samuel Johnson, London, 1784.' It was in December, 1784, that Johnson
died. "James Pycroft.
"Brighton, Jan. 20, 1871."
—Notes and Queries, Fourth Series, vii., 243.—Editor.
Sir Walter Scott put the same Greek words on a sun-dial in his garden
at Abbotsford.—Lockhart.
2 Where, it appears, from the Piozzi Letters, vol. i., pp. 10-11, that he
was for some time confined to Mr. Chambers' apartments in New Inn
Hall by a fit of illness, and took a strong interest in the triumphant elec¬
tion of high church candidates for the University. "The virtue of Ox¬
ford," he says, " once more prevailed over the slaves of power and the
soliciters of favour."— Croker.
3 Mr. Boswell, in his Journal of a Tour in Corsica, p. 359-60, had printed
the second and third paragraphs of Johnson's letter to him of January 14, .
1766.—Croker.
462
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1768.
that I shall be glad to see you, and that I wish you would empty your
head of Corsica, which I think has filled it rather too long. But, at
all events, I shall be glad, very glad, to see you. I am, Sir, yours
affectionately, "Sam. Johnson."
I answered thus :—
TO MR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" London, April 26, 1768.
"My dear Sir,
" I have received your last letter, which, though very short,
and by no means complimentary, yet gave me real pleasure, because
it contains these words, ' I shall be glad, very glad to see you.'—-
Surely you have no reason to complain of my publishing a single
paragraph of one of your letters ; the temptation to it was so strong.
An irrevocable grant of your friendship, and your signifying my de¬
sire of visiting Corsica with the epithet of ' a wise and noble curiosity,'
are to me more valuable than many of the grants of kings.
" But how can you bid me ' empty my head of Corsica ?' My
noble-minded friend, do you not feel for an oppressed nation bravely
struggling to be free ? Consider fairly what is the case. The Corsi-
cans never received any kindness from the Genoese. They never
agreed to be subject to them. They owe them nothing, and when
reduced to an abject state of slavery, by force, shall they not rise in
the great cause of liberty, and break the galling yoke ? And shall
not every liberal soul be warm for them ? Empty my head of Corsica !
Empty it of honour, empty it of humanity, empty it of friendship,
empty it of piety. No ! while I live, Corsica, and the cause of the
brave islanders, shall ever employ much of my attention, shall ever
interest me in the sincerest manner. * * * I am, &c.,
"James Boswell."
Upon his arrival in London in May, he surprised me one
morning with a visit at my lodging in Halfmoon Street, was
quite satisfied with my explanation, and was in the kindest
and most agreeable frame of mind. As he had objected to a
part of one of his letters being published, I thought it right to
take this opportunity of asking him explicitly whether it would
be improper to publish his letters after his death. His answer
was, " Nay, Sir, when I am dead, you may do as you will."
JET. 59.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
463
He talked in his usual style with a rough contempt of
popular liberty. " They make a rout about universal liberty,
without considering that all that is to be valued, or indeed can
be enjoyed by individuals, is private liberty. Political liberty
is good only so far as it produces private liberty. Now, Sir,
there is the liberty of the press, which you know is a constant
topic. Suppose you and I and two hundred more were re¬
strained from printing our thoughts: what then ? What
proportion would that restraint upon us bear to the private
happiness of the nation ? "
This mode of representing the inconveniences of restraint as
light and insignificant was a kind of sophistry in which he de¬
lighted to indulge himself, in opposition to the extreme laxity
for which it has been fashionable for too many to argue, when
it is evident, upon reflection, that the very essence of govern¬
ment is restraint; and certain it is, that as government pro¬
duces rational happiness, too much restraint is better than too
little. But when restraint is unnecessary, and so close as to
gall those who are subject to it, the people may and ought to
remonstrate; and, if relief is not granted, to resist. Of this
manly and spirited principle, no man was more convinced than
Johnson himself.
About this time Dr. Kenrick attacked him through my
sides, in a pamphlet, entitled "An Epistle to James Boswell,
Esq., occasioned by his having transmitted the moral Writings
of Dr. Samuel Johnson to Pascal Paoli, General of the Corsi-
cans." I was at first inclined to answer this pamphlet; but
Johnson, who knew that my doing so would only gratify
Kenrick, by keeping alive what would soon die away of itself,
would not suffer me to take any notice of it.
His sincere regard for Francis Barber, his faithful negro
servant, made him so desirous of his further improvement,
that he now placed him at a school at Bishop Stortford, in
Hertfordshire. This humane attention does Johnson's heart
much honour. Out of many letters which Mr. Barber received
from his master, he has preserved three, which he kindly gave
me, and which I shall insert according to their dates.
464
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1768.
TO MR. FRANCIS BARBER.
"May 28, 1768.
"Dear Francis,
" I have been very much out of order. I am glad to hear
that you are well, and design to come soon to you. I would have
you stay at Mrs. Clapp's for the present, till I can determine what
we shall do. Be a good boy. My compliments to Mrs. Clapp and
to Mr. Fowler. I am yours affectionately, " Sam. Johnson."
Soon afterwards, he supped at the Crown and Anchor tavern,
in the Strand, with a company whom I collected to meet him.
They were, Dr. Percy now Bishop of Dromore, Dr. Douglas
now Bishop of Salisbury, Mr. Langton, Dr. Robertson the
Historian, Dr. Hugh Blair, and Mr. Thomas Davies, who
wished much to be introduced to these eminent Scotch literati;
but on the present occasion he had very little opportunity of
hearing them talk ; for, with an excess of prudence, for which
Johnson afterwards found fault with them, they hardly opened
their lips, and that only to say something which they were
certain would not expose them to the sword of Goliath ; such
was their anxiety for their fame when in the presence of
Johnson. He was this evening in remarkable vigour of mind,
and eager to exert himself in conversation, which he did with
great readiness and fluency ; but I am sorry to find that I
have preserved but a small part of what passed.
He allowed high praise to Thomson as a poet; but when
one of the company said he was also a very good man, our
moralist contested this with great warmth, accusing him of
gross sensuality and licentiousness of manners. I was very
much afraid that, in writing Thomson's life, Dr. Johnson
would have treated his private character with a stern severity,
but I was agreeably disappointed ; and I may claim a little
merit in it, from my having been at pains to send him au¬
thentic accounts of the affectionate and generous conduct of
that poet to his sisters, one of whom, the wife of Mr. Thomson,
schoolmaster at Lanark, I knew, and was presented by her
JET. 59.
BOSWELL'S ILIFE OF JOHNSON.
465
with three of his letters, one of which Dr. Johnson has inserted
in his life.
He was vehement against old Dr. Mounsey, of Chelsea
College, as " a fellow who swore and talked bawdy."1 " I have
been often in his company," said Dr. Percy, " and never heard
him swear or talk bawdy." Mr. Davies, who sat next to Dr.
Percy, having after this had some conversation aside with him,
made a discovery which, in his zeal to pay court to Dr. John¬
son, he eagerly proclaimed aloud from the foot of the table :
"Oh, Sir, I have found out a very good reason why Dr. Percy
never heard Mounsey swear or talk bawdy ; for he tells me he
never saw him but at the Duke of Northumberland's table."
"And so, Sir," said Dr. Johnson loudly to Dr. Percy, "you
would shield this man from the charge of swearing and talking
bawdy, because he did not do so at the Duke of Northumber¬
land's table. Sir, you might as well tell us that you had seen
him hold up his hand at the Old Bailey, and he neither swore
nor talked bawdy ; or that you had seen him in the cart at
1 Messenger Mounsey, M.D., died at his apartments in Chelsea College,
Dec. 26, 1788, at the age of ninety-five. An extraordinary direction in his
will may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. 50, p. ii., p. 1x83.—
Malone.
The direction was, that his body should not suffer any funeral cere¬
mony, bat undergo dissection, and, after that operation, be thrown into
the Thames, or where the surgeon pleased. It is surprising that this coarse
and crazy humourist should have been an intimate friend and favourite of
the elegant and pious Mrs. Montagu.—Croker.
In the following strange, and, although it relates to his own body, we
may say brutal letter to Mr. Cruickshank, dated May 12, 1787, now in
the Museum of the College of Surgeons, Mounsey says:—"Mr. Thom¬
son Foster, surgeon, in Union Court, Broad Street, has promised to open
my carcass, and see what is the matter with my heart, arteries, and kidneys.
He is gone to N orwich, and may not return before I am [dead]. Will you
be so good as to let me send it to you, or, if he comes, will you like to be
present at the dissection ? Let me see you to-morrow, between eleven and
one or two, or any day. I am now very ill, and hardly see to scrawl this,
and feel as if I should live [but] two days—the sooner the better. I am,
though unknown to you, your respectful humble servant, Messenger
Mounsey." His body was accordingly dissected by Mr. Foster, and prepa¬
rations were deposited in the Museum of St. Thomas's Hospital.— Wright.
H H
466 boswell's life of johnson. 1768.
Tyburn, and he neither swore nor talked bawdy. And is it
thus, Sir, that you presume to controvert what I have related ?"
Dr. Johnson's animadversion was uttered in such a manner,
that Dr. Percy seemed to be displeased, and soon afterwards
left the company, of which Johnson did not at that time take
any notice.
Swift having been mentioned, Johnson, as usual, treated
him with little respect as an author. Some of us endeavoured
to support the Dean of St. Patrick's by various arguments.
One, in particular, praised his "Conduct of the Allies."
johnson. " Sir, his ' Conduct of the Allies ' is a performance
of very little ability." " Surely, Sir," said Dr. Douglas, "you
must allow it has strong facts."1 johnson. "Why yes, Sir;
but what is that to the merit of the composition ? In the Ses¬
sions-paper of the Old Bailey there are strong facts. House¬
breaking is a strong fact; robbery is a strong fact; and
murder is a mighty strong fact: but is great praise due to the
historian of those strong facts ? No, Sir, Swift has told what
he had to tell distinctly enough, but that is all. He had to
count ten, and he has counted it right." Then recollecting
that Mr. Davies, by acting as an informer, had been the occa¬
sion of his talking somewhat too harshly to his friend Dr.
Percy, for which, probably, when the first ebullition was over,
he felt some compunction, he took an opportunity to give him
a hit: so added, with a preparatory laugh, "Why, Sir, Tom
Davies might have written ' The Conduct of the Allies.'"
Poor Tom, being thus suddenly dragged into ludicrous notice
in presence of the Scottish doctors, to whom he was ambitious
1 My respectable friend, upon reading this passage, observed, that he
probably must have said not simply " strong facts," but " strong facts well
arranged." His Lordship, however, knows too well the value of written
documents to insist on setting his recollection against my notes taken at
the time. He does not attempt to traverse the record. The fact, perhaps,
may have been, either that the additional words escaped me in the noise
of a numerous company, or that Dr. Johnson, from his impetuosity, and
eagerness to seize an opportunity to make a lively retort, did not allow Dr.
Douglas to finish his sentence. [Note added in the second edition, vol. i.
p. 523.—Editor.]
JET. 59. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 467
of appearing to advantage, was grievously mortified. Nor did
his punishment rest here ; for upon subsequent occasions,
whenever he, " statesman all oyer," 1 assumed a strutting im¬
portance, I used to hail him—" the Author of the ' Conduct of
the A llies! "
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."
The late Alexander Earl of Eglintoune,2 who loved wit more
than wine, and men of genius more than sycophants, had a
great admiration of Johnson ; but, from the remarkable ele¬
gance of his own manners, was perhaps too delicately sensible
of the roughness which sometimes appeared in Johnson's be¬
haviour. One evening about this time, when his lordship did
me the honour to sup at my lodgings with Dr. Robertson and
several other men of literary distinction, he regretted that
Johnson had not been educated with more refinement, and
lived more in polished society. " No, no, my lord," said Sig-
nor Baretti, " do with him what you would, he would always
have been a bear." " True," answered the earl, with a smile,
" but he would have been a dancing bear."
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
1 See the hard drawing of him in Churchill's Rosciad.
2 Tenth earl, who was shot, in 1769, by Mungo Campbell, whose fowling-
piece Lord Eglintoune attempted to seize. To this nobleman Boswellwas
indebted, as he himself said, for his early introduction to the circle of the
great, the gay, and the ingenious. Boswell thus mentions himself in a tale
called The Cub at Newmarket, published in 1762 :—
" Lord Eglintoune, who loves, you know,
A little dish of whim or so,
By chance a curious cub had got,
On Scotia's mountains newly caught."—Gent. Mag.
—Croker.
468
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
alive has a more tender heart. He has nothing of the bear but
his skin!'
In 1769, so far as I can discover, the public was favoured
with nothing of Johnson's composition, either for himself or any
of his friends. His "Meditations" too strongly prove that
he suffered much both in body and mind; yet was he perpetu¬
ally striving against evil, and nobly endeavouring to advance
his intellectual and devotional improvement. Every generous
and grateful heart must feel for the distresses of so eminent a
benefactor to mankind ; and now that his unhappiness is cer¬
tainly known, must respect that dignity of character which
prevented him from complaining.
His Majesty having the preceding year instituted the Royal
Academy of Arts in London, Johnson had now the honour of
being appointed Professor in Antient Literature.1 In the
course of the year he wrote some letters to Mrs. Thrale, passed
some part of the summer at Oxford and at Lichfield, and when
at Oxford he wrote the following letter :—
TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON.
" May 31, 1769.
"Dear Sir,
" Many years ago, when I used to read in the library of your
College, I promised to recompense the college for that permission, by
adding to their books a Baskerville's Virgil. I have now sent it, and
desire you to reposit it on the shelves in my name.2
1 In which place he has been succeeded by Bennet Langton, Esq. When
that truly religious gentleman was elected to this honorary Professorship,
at the same time that Edward Gibbon, Esq., noted for introducing a kind
of sneering infidelity into his historical writings, was elected Professor in
Ancient History, in the room of Dr. Goldsmith, I observed that it brought
to my mind, " Wicked Will Whiston and good Mr. Ditton."—I am now
also of that admirable institution, as Secretary for Foreign Correspon¬
dence, by the favour of the Academicians, and the approbation of the
sovereign. [Note in second edition, vol. i., p. 525.—Editor.]
2 It has this inscription in a blank leaf :—" Hunc librum D.D. Samuel
Joh?ison eo quod hie loci studiis interdum vacaret." Of this library, which
is an old Gothic room, he was very fond. On my observing to him that
some of the modem libraries of the University were more commodious and
JET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
469
" If you will be pleased to let me know when you have an hour of
leisure, I will drink tea with you. I am engaged for the afternoon to¬
morrow, and on Friday : all my mornings are my own.1 I am, &c.,
"Sam. Johnson."
I came to London in the autumn ; and having informed him
that I was going to be married in a few months, I wished to
have as much of his conversation as I could before engaging
in a state of life which would probably keep me more in Scot¬
land, and prevent me seeing him so often as when I was a
single man ; but I found he was at Brighthelmstone with Mr.
and Mrs. Thrale. I was very sorry that I had not his com¬
pany with me at the Jubilee, in honour of Shakspeare, at
Stratford-upon-Avon, the great poet's native town.2 Johnson's
pleasant for study, as being more spacious and airy, he replied, " Sir, if a
man has a mind to prance, he must study at Christchurch and All-Souls."
— Warton.
Mr. Robinson Ellis, the distinguished scholar and fellow of Trinity
College, informs me (1881) that this copy is honourably preserved on the
shelves of the Library.—Editor.
1 During this visit he seldom or never dined out. He appeared to be
deeply engaged in some literary work. Miss Williams was now with him
at Oxford.— Warton.
2 Mr. Boswell, on this occasion, justified Johnson's foresight and pru¬
dence, in advising him to " clear his head of Corsica:" unluckily, the
advice had no effect, for Boswell made a fool of himself at the Jubilee by
sundry enthusiastic freaks ; amongst others, lest he should not be suffi¬
ciently distinguished, he wore the words Corsica Boswell in large
letters round his hat. There was an absurd print of him, I think in
the London Magazine, published, no doubt, with his concurrence, in the
character of an armed Corsican chief, at the Jubilee masquerade on the
evening of the 7th Sept. 1769, in which he wears a cap with the inscription
of" Viva la Liberta / "—but his friend and admirer, Tom Davies, records
that he wore ordinarily the vernacular inscription of " Corsica Boswell
in large letters outside his hat."—Life of Garrick, ii. 212. Earlier in the
year he had visited Ireland, and was no doubt the correspondent who
furnished the following paragraph to the Public Advertiser of the 7th July,
1769: —
" Extract of a letter from Dublin, 8th June.
"James Boswell, Esq., having now visited Ireland, he dined with his
Grace the Duke of Leinster, at his seat at Carton. He went also by special
invitation, to visit the Lord Lieutenant at his country seat at Leixlip ; to
47°
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
connection both with Shakspeare and Garrick founded a double
claim to his presence ; and it would have been highly gratify¬
ing to Mr. Garrick. Upon this occasion I particularly lamented
that he had not that warmth of friendship for his brilliant
pupil, which we may suppose would have had a benignant
effect on both. When almost every man of eminence in the
literary world was happy to partake in this festival of genius,
the absence of Johnson could not but be wondered at and re¬
gretted. The only trace of him there, was in the whimsical
advertisement of a haberdasher, who sold Shaksperian
ribands of various dyes ; and by way of illustrating their ap¬
propriation to the bard, introduced a line from the celebrated
Prologue, at the opening of Drury Lane theatre :—
" Each change of many-colour1 d life he drew."
From Brighthelmstone Dr. Johnson wrote me the following
letter ; which they who may think that I ought to have sup¬
pressed, must have less ardent feelings than I have always
avowed.1
%
which he was conducted in one of his Excellency's coaches by Lt. Col.
Walshe. He dined there, and stayed all night, and next morning came in
the coach with his Excellency, to the Phcenix Park, and was present at a
review of Sir Joseph Yorke's Dragoons. He also dined with the Right
Honourable the Lord Mayor. He is now set out on his return to Scotland."
—Croker.
1 In the Preface (p. xix-xx) to my Account of Corsica, published in 1768,
I thus express myself:—
" He who publishes a book, affecting not to be an author, and professing
an indifference for literary fame, may possibly impose upon many people
such an idea of his consequence as he wishes may be received. For my
part, I should be proud to be known as an author, and I have an ardent
ambition for literary fame ; for, of all possessions, I should imagine lite¬
rary fame to be the most valuable. A man who has been able to furnish
a book, which has been approved by the world, has established himself as
a respectable character in distant society, without any danger of having
that character lessened by the observation of his weaknesses. To preserve
an uniform dignity among those who see us every day, is hardly possible;
and to aim at it, must put us under the fetters of perpetual restraint. The
author of an approved book may allow his natural disposition an easy play,
and yet indulge the pride of superior genius, when he considers that by
JET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
471
TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" Brighthelmstone, Sept. 9, 1769.
"Dear Sir,
" Why do you charge me with unkindness ? I have omitted
nothing that could do you good, or give you pleasure, unless it be that
I have forborne to tell you my opinion of your ' Account of Corsica.'
I believe my opinion, if you think well of my judgment, might have
given you pleasure; but when it is considered how much vanity is
excited by praise, I am not sure that it would have done you good.
Your History is like other histories, but your Journal is, in a very high
degree, curious and delightful. There is between the history and the
journal that difference which there will always be found between
notions borrowed from without, and notions generated within. Your
history was copied from books; your journal rose out of your own
experience and observation. You express images which operated
strongly upon yourself, and you have impressed them with great force
upon your readers. I know not whether 1 could name any narrative
by which curiosity is better excited, or better gratified.
" I am glad that you are going to be married; and as I wish you
well in things of less importance, wish you well with proportionate
ardour in this crisis of your life. What I can contribute to your happi¬
ness, I should be very unwilling to withhold; for I have always loved
and valued you, and shall love you and value you still more, as you
become more regular and useful; effects which a happy marriage will
hardly fail to produce.
" I do not find that I am likely to come back very soon from this
place. I shall, perhaps, stay a fortnight longer; and a fortnight is a
long time to a lover absent from his mistress. Would a fortnight
ever have an end? I am, dear Sir, your most affectionate humble
servant, "Sam. Johnson."
After his return to town, we met frequently, and I continued
the practice of making notes of his conversation, though not
those who know him only as an author, he never ceases to be respected.
Such an author, when in his hours of gloom and discontent, may have the
consolation to think, that his writings are, at that very time, giving plea¬
sure to numbers ; and such an author may cherish the hope of being
remembered after death ; which has been a great object to the noblest
minds in all ages." [Added in the second edition, vol. i., p. 527.—Editor.]
472
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
with so much assiduity as I wish I had done. At this time,
indeed, I had a sufficient excuse for not being able to appro¬
priate so much time to my journal; for General Paoli,1 after
Corsica had been overpowered by the monarchy of France,
was now no longer at the head of his brave countrymen ; but,
having with difficulty escaped from his native island, had
sought an asylum in Great Britain ; and.it was my duty, as
well as my pleasure, to attend much upon him.2 Such parti¬
culars of Johnson's conversations at this period as I have
committed to writing, I shall here introduce, without any
strict attention to methodical arrangement. Sometimes short
notes of different days shall be blended together, and some¬
times a day may seem important enough to be separately
distinguished.
He said, he would not have Sunday kept with rigid severity
and gloom, but with a gravity and simplicity of behaviour.
I told him that David Hume had made a short collection of
Scotticisms. "I wonder," said Johnson, "that he should find
them." 3
He would not admit the importance of the question con¬
cerning the legality of general warrants. " Such a power," he
observed, " must be vested in every government, to answer
particular cases of necessity; and there can be no just com¬
plaint but when it is abused, for which those who administer
1 Pascal Paoli, born in 1726, was appointed by his countrymen Chief
Magistrate and General in their resistance to the Genoese. He, after
an honourable, and for a time successful defence, was at last over¬
powered by the French, and sought refuge in England in 1769, where he
resided, till the French revolution seeming to afford an opportunity to
liberate his country from the yoke of France, he went thither, and was a
principal promoter of its short-lived union to the British Crown. When
this was dissolved, Paoli returned to England, and resided here till his
death in 1807.—Croker.
2 21st Sept. 1769. General Paoli arrived at Mr. Hutchinson's, in Old
Bond Street.
27th Sept. General Paoli was presented to his Majesty at St. James's.
—Ann. Reg., for the year 1769, pp. 132-133.—Editor.
3 The first edition of Hume's History of England was full of Scotticisms,
many of which he corrected in subsequent editions.—Malone.
iET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
473
government must be answerable. It is a matter of such in¬
difference, a matter about which the people care so very little,
that were a man to be sent over Britain to offer them an
exemption from it at a halfpenny a piece, very few would
purchase it." This was a specimen of that laxity of talking,
which I had heard him fairly acknowledge ; for, surely, while
the power of granting general warrants was supposed to be
legal, and the apprehension of them hung over our heads, we
did not possess that security of freedom, congenial to our
happy constitution, and which, by the intrepid exertions of
Mr. Wilkes, has been happily established.
He said, " The duration of parliament, whether for seven
years or the life of the king, appears to me so immaterial, that
I would not give half a crown to turn the scale one way or the
other. The habeas corpus is the single advantage which our
government has over that of other countries."
On the 30th of September we dined together at the Mitre.
I attempted to argue for the superior happiness of the savage
life, upon the usual fanciful topics. Johnson. " Sir, there can
be nothing more false. The savages have no bodily advan¬
tages beyond those of civilised men. They have not better
health; and as to care or mental uneasiness, they are not
above it, but below it, like bears. No, Sir; you are not to
talk such paradox : let me have no more on't. It cannot en¬
tertain, far less can it instruct. Lord Monboddo, one of your
Scotch judges, talked a great deal of such nonsense. I suffered
him ; but I will not suffer you!' Boswell. " But, Sir, does
not Rousseau talk such nonsense ? " johnson. " True, Sir ;
but Rousseau knows he is talking nonsense, and laughs at the
world for staring at him." boswell. " How so, Sir ?" john¬
son. "Why, Sir, a man who talks nonsense so well, must
know that he is talking nonsense. But I am afraid (chuck¬
ling and laughing) Monboddo does not know that he is talking
nonsense."1 boswell. " Is it wrong, then, Sir, to affect sin-
1 His lordship having frequently spoken in an abusive manner of Dr.
Johnson, in my company, I, on one occasion, during the lifetime of my
illustrious friend, could not refrain from retaliation, and repeated to him
474 boswell's life of johnson. 1769.
gularity, in order to make people stare? " johnson. "Yes, if
you do it by propagating error : and, indeed, it is wrong in any
way. There is in human nature a general inclination to make
people stare; and every wise man has himself to cure of it,
and does cure himself. If you wish to make people stare, by
doing better than others, why, make them stare till they stare
their eyes out. But consider how easy it is to make people
stare, by being absurd. I may do it by going into a drawing-
room without my shoes. You remember the gentleman in the
' Spectator,' [No. 576] who had a commission of lunacy taken
out against him for his extreme singularity, such as never
wearing a wig, but a night-cap. Now, Sir, abstractedly, the
night-cap was best: but, relatively, the advantage was over¬
balanced by making the boys run after him."
Talking of a London life, he said, " The happiness of Lon¬
don 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 disad¬
vantage 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 humour of wishing
to retire to a desert." JOHNSON. " Sir, you have desert enough
in Scotland."
Although I had promised myself a great deal of instructive
conversation with him on the conduct of the married state, of
which I had then a near prospect, he did not say much upon
that topic. Mr. Seward heard him once say, that " a man has
a very bad chance for happiness in that state, unless he marries
this saying. He has since published I don't know how many pages in one
of his curious books, attempting, in much anger, but with pitiful effect, to
persuade mankind that my illustrious friend was not the great and good
man which they esteemed and ever will esteem him to be.
Boswell, no doubt, alludes to the attack on Johnson, which runs through
many pages of the fifth volume, published 1789, of Monboddo's Origin and
Progress of Language, p. 260, et seqq.—Editor.
/ET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
475
a woman of very strong and fixed principles of religion." He
maintained to me, contrary to the common notion, that a
woman would not be the worse wife for being learned; in
which, from all that I have observed of ArtemisiasI humbly
differed from him. That a woman should be sensible and well
informed, I allow to be a great advantage; and think that Sir
Thomas Overbury, in his rude versification, has very judiciously
pointed out that degree of intelligence which is to be desired
in a female companion :—
" Give me, next good, an understanding wife,
By nature wise, not learned by much art;
Some knowledge on her side will all my life
More scope of conversation impart;
Besides, her inborne virtue fortifie;
They are most firmly good, who best know why."3
When I censured a gentleman of my acquaintance for
marrying a second time, as it showed a disregard of his first
wife, he said, "Not at all, Sir. On the contrary, were he not
to marry again, it might be concluded that his first wife had
given him a disgust to marriage ; but by taking a second wife
he pays the highest compliment to the first, by showing that
she made him so happy as a married man, that he wishes to
be so a second time." So ingenious a turn did he give to this
delicate question. And yet, on another occasion, he owned
that he once had almost asked a promise of Mrs. Johnson that
she would not marry again, but had checked himself. Indeed
I cannot help thinking, that in his case the request would
have been unreasonable ; for if Mrs. Johnson forgot, or thought
1 " Though Artemisia talks, by fits,
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits ;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke :
Yet in some things methinks she fails ;
'Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock."
Pope, Imitations of English Poets j Earl of Dorset.
This was meant for Lady M. W. Montagu.—Croker.
2 A Wife, a poem, 1614.
476
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
it no injury to the memory of her first love—the husband of
her youth and the father of her children—to make a second
marriage, why should she be precluded from a third, should
she be so inclined ? In Johnson's persevering fond appropria¬
tion of his Tetty, even after her decease, he seems totally to
have overlooked the prior claim of the honest Birming¬
ham trader.1 I presume that her having been married before
had, at times, given him some uneasiness ; for I remember his
observing upon the marriage of one of our common friends,
"He has done a very foolish thing, Sir ; he has married a
widow, when he might have had a maid."
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 invita¬
tion ; and found, at an elegant villa, six miles from town,
every circumstance that can make society pleasing. John¬
son, though quite at home, was yet looked up to with an
awe, tempered 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-humoured
pleasantry, which gave me, though no bigot to national pre¬
judices, 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
1 Yet his inquisitive mind might have been struck by his friend Tom
Hervey's startling application of the scriptural question to Sir Thomas
Hanmer, relative to the lady who was the cause of their contention :—" In
heaven whose wife shall she be ? " Luke xx. 33.—Croker.
^ET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
477
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 perfection ?"
I boasted that we had the honour of being the first to abolish
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."
Mrs. Thrale disputed with him on the merit of Prior. He
attacked him powerfully ; said he wrote of love like a man
who had never felt it ; his love verses were college verses : and
he repeated the song, " Alexis shunn'd his fellow swains," &c.
in so ludicrous a manner, as to make us all wonder how any one
could have been pleased with such fantastical stuff. Mrs.
Thrale stood to her guns with great courage, in defence of
amorous ditties, which Johnson despised, till he at last silenced
her by saying, " My dear lady, talk no more of this. Nonsense
can be defended but by nonsense."
Mrs. Thrale then praised Garrick's talents for light gay
poetry; and, as a specimen, repeated his song in " Florizel and
Perdita," and dwelt with peculiar pleasure on this line :—
" I'd smile with the simple, and feed with the poor."
JOHNSON. "Nay, my dear lady, this will never do. Poor
David ! Smile with the simple !—what folly is that ? And who
would feed with the poor that can help it ? No, no ; let me
smile with the wise, and feed with the rich." I repeated this
sally to Garrick, and wondered to find his sensibility as a
writer not a little irritated by it. To soothe him, I observed,
that Johnson spared none of us; and I quoted the passage in
Horace, in which he compares one who attacks his friends for
the sake of a laugh to a pushing ox, that is marked by a bunch
of hay put upon his horns : f(£1111111 habet in cornu." 1 " Ay,"
said Garrick, vehemently, "he has a whole mow of it."
Talking of history, Johnson said, "We may know historical
facts to be true, as we may know facts in common life to be
1 Hor. Sat., i. 4-34.—Editor.
478
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
true. Motives are generally unknown.1 We cannot trust to
the characters we find in history, unless when they are drawn
by those who knew the persons ; as those, for instance, by
Sallust and by Lord Clarendon."
He would not allow much merit to Whitfield's oratory.
" His popularity, Sir," said he, " is chiefly owing to the pecu¬
liarity of his manner. He would be followed by crowds were
he to wear a night-cap in the pulpit, or were he to preach from
a tree."
I know not from what spirit of contradiction he burst out
into a violent declamation against the Corsicans, of whose
heroism I talked in high terms. " Sir," said he, " what is all
this rout about the Corsicans ? They have been at war with
the Genoese for upwards of twenty years, and have never yet
taken their fortified towns. They might have battered down
their walls, and reduced them to powder in twenty years.
They might have pulled the walls in pieces, and cracked the
stones with their teeth in twenty years." It was in vain to
argue with him upon the want of artillery: he was not to be
resisted for the moment.
On the evening of October 10, I presented Dr. Johnson to
General Paoli. I had greatly wished that two men, for whom
I had the highest esteem, should meet. They met with a
manly ease, mutually conscious of their own abilities, and of
the abilities of each other. The General spoke Italian, and
Dr. Johnson English, and understood one another very well,
with a little aid of interpretation from me, in which I com¬
pared myself to an isthmus which joins two great continents.
Upon Johnson's approach, the General said, "From what I
have read of your works, Sir, and from what Mr. Boswell has
1 This was what old Sir Robert Walpole probably meant, when his son
Horace, wishing to amuse him one evening, after his fall, offered to read
him some historical work. " Any thing," said the old statesman, " but
history—that must be false." Mr. Gibbon says, " Malheureux sort de
l'histoire ! Les spectateurs sont trop peu instruits, et les acteurs t'rop
int£ress£s, pour que nous puissions compter sur les rdcits des uns ou des
autres ! " (Misc. Works, vol. iv., p. 410.)—Croker.
JET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
479
told me of you, I have long held you in great veneration."
The General talked of languages being formed on the particular
notions and manners of a people, without knowing which, we
cannot know the language. We may know the direct signifi¬
cation of single words ; but by these no beauty of expression,
no sally of genius, no wit is conveyed to the mind. All this
must be by allusion to other ideas. " Sir," said Johnson,
" you talk of language, as if you had never done any thing
else but study it, instead of governinga nation." The General
said, " Questo enn troppogran complimento; " this is too great a
compliment. Johnson answered, " I should have thought so,
Sir, if I had not heard you talk." The General asked him
what he thought of the spirit of infidelity which was so pre¬
valent. JOHNSON. "Sir, this gloom of infidelity, I hope, is
only a transient cloud passing through the hemisphere, which
will soon be dissipated, and the sun break forth with his usual
splendour." "You think then," said the General, "that they
will change their principles like their clothes." JOHNSON.
" Why, Sir, if they bestow no more thought on principles than
on dress, it must be so." The General said, that " a great
part of the fashionable infidelity was owing to a desire of
showing courage. Men who have no opportunities of showing
it as to things in this life, take death and futurity as objects on
which to display it." JOHNSON. "That is mighty foolish
affectation. Fear is one of the passions of human nature, of
which it is impossible to divest it. You remember that the
Emperor Charles V., when he read upcn the tomb-stone of a
Spanish nobleman, ' Here lies one who never knew fear,'
wittily said, ' Then he never snuffed a candle with his fingers.' "
He talked a few words of French to the General; but find¬
ing he did not do it with facility, he asked for pen, ink, and
paper, and wrote the following note:—
" J"ai lu dans la geographie de Lucas de Linda un Pater-noster 'ecrit
dans une langiie tout-a-fait differente de /'Ltalienne, et de toutes autres
lesquelles se derivent du Latin. Lauteur Fappelle linguam Corsicse
rusticam : elle a peut-etre passe, pen a peu ; mais elle a certainement pre-
value autrefois dans les montagnes et dans la campagne. Le meme auteur
480
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
dit la meme chose en parlant de Sardaigne ; qtiil y a deux langues dans
I'Isle, une des villes, Vautre de la campagne."
The General immediately informed him, that the lingua rus-
tica was only in Sardinia.
Dr. Johnson went home with me, and drank tea till late in
the night. He said, " General Paoli had the loftiest port of
any man he had ever seen." He denied that military men
were always the best bred men. " Perfect good breeding, he
observed, consists in having no particular mark of any profes¬
sion, but a general elegance of manners; whereas, in a mili¬
tary man, you can commonly distinguish the brand of a soldier
Vhomme (Tepee!'
Dr. Johnson shunned to-night any discussion of the perplexed
question of fate and free-will, which I attempted to agitate :
" Sir," said he, "we know our will is free, and there's an end
on't."
He honoured 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.
BickerstafF,1 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, com¬
plimented 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 occasions,
to order dinner to be served ; adding, " Ought six people to
be kept waiting for one ? " "Why, yes," answered Johnson,
1 Isaac Bickerstaff, a native of Ireland, the author of Love in a Village,
Lionel and Clarissa, the Spoiled Child, and several other theatrical pieces
of considerable merit and continued popularity. This unhappy man was
obliged to fly the country on suspicion of a capital crime, on which occa¬
sion Mrs. Piozzi (Anecdotes, p. 168) relates, that " when Mr. Bickerstaff's
flight confirmed the report of his guilt, and Mr. Thrale said, in answer to
Johnson's astonishment, that he had long been a suspected man, 'By
those who look close to the ground dirt will be seen, Sir/ was the lofty
reply : ' I hope I see things from a greater distance.'"—Croker.
iet. 60. boswell's life of johnson. 481
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-coloured coat, he
said, ' Sir, I have a favour to beg of you. When any body
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 colour 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 colour." 1
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." 3
While he was talking loudly in praise of those lines, one of
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,
1 It is due to Boswell's character for minute accuracy to state that Mr.
Prior has found the tailor's bill for this celebrated suit, dated the very
same day on which Goldsmith sported it at Boswell's.
" 1769, Oct. 16, Mr. Oliver Goldsmith, Dr. to William Filby.
To making a half-dress suit of ratteen lined with satin . £12 12 o
To a pair of bloom coloured breeches 146"
Life of Goldsmith, ii. 232.—Croker.
Compare also Foster's Life of Goldsmith, vol. ii., p. 164 (note).—Editor.
2 Mr. Langton informed me that he once related to Johnson (on the
authority of Spence) that Pope himself admired those lines so much, that
when he repeated them his voice faltered : " And well it might, Sir," said
Johnson, " for they are noble lines."—J. Boswell, jun.
i i
482 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1769.
hadst thou lived in those days !1 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 inquiring who
was the author of his "London," and saying, he will soon be
deterre. He observed, that in Dryden's poetry there were
passages drawn from a profundity which Pope could never
reach. He repeated some fine lines on love, by the former,
which I have now forgotten, 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. John¬
son said, that the description of the temple, in " The Mourning
Bride,"2 was the finest poetical passage he had ever read ; he
recollected none in Shakspeare equal to it.—" But," said Garrick,
all alarmed for " the God of his idolatry," "we know not the ex¬
tent and variety of his powers. We are to suppose there are
such passages in his works. Shakspeare must not suffer from
the badness of our memories." Johnson, diverted by this en¬
thusiastic jealousy, went on with great ardour: "No, Sir;
Congreve has nature" (smiling on the tragic eagerness of
Garrick) ; but composing himself, he added, " Sir, this is not
comparing Congreve on the whole with Shakspeare on the
1 What a lively idea of the tyranny of Johnson's conversation does the
word ventured give ! Boswell was himself the object of this sarcasm.
" Boswell lamented that he had not lived in the Augustan age of England,
when Pope and others flourished. Sir Joshua Reynolds thought that
Boswell had no right to complain, as it were better to be alive than dead.
Johnson said, 'No, Sir, Boswell is in the right; as, perhaps, he has lost
the opportunity of having his name immortalised in the Dunciad." North-
cote, Life of Reynolds.—Croker.
2 How reverend is the face of this tall pile,
Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads,
To bear aloft its arch'd and pond'rous roof,
By its own weight made stedfast and unmoveable,
Looking tranquillity !—It strikes an awe
And terror on my aching sight."—Act ii. sc. 1.
JET. 60. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 483
whole ; but only maintaining that Congreve has one finer
passage than any that can be found in Shakspeare. Sir, a
man may have no more than ten guineas in the world, but he
may have those ten guineas in one piece; and so may have a
finer piece than a man who has ten thousand pounds: but
then he has only one ten-guinea piece.—What I mean is, that
you can show me no passage where there is simply a descrip¬
tion of material objects, without any intermixture of moral
notions, which produces such an effect." Mr. Murphy men¬
tioned Shakspeare's description of the night before the battle
of Agincourt ; but it was observed it had men in it. Mr.
Davies suggested the speech of Juliet, in which she figures
herself awaking in the tomb of her ancestors. Some one
mentioned the description of Dover Cliff". JOHNSON. "No,
Sir; it should be all precipice,—all vacuum. The crows im¬
pede your fall. The diminished appearance of the boats, and
other circumstances, are all very good description ; but do not
impress the mind at once with the horrible idea of immense
height. The impression is divided ; you pass on by compu¬
tation from one stage of the tremendous space to another.
Had the girl in ' The Mourning Bride ' said she could not cast
her shoe to the top of one of the pillars in the temple, it
would not have aided the idea, but weakened it." 1
Talking of a barrister who had a bad utterance, some one
(to rouse Johnson) wickedly said, that he was unfortunate in
not having been taught oratory by Sheridan. JOHNSON.
" Nay, Sir, if he had been taught by Sheridan, he would have
cleared the room." GARRICK. " Sheridan has too much vanity
to be a good man."—We shall now see Johnson's mode of de¬
fending a man ; taking him into his own hands, and discrimi-
1 Mrs. Piozzi (Anecdotes, p. 58) says that Johnson boasted to her how
he used to tease Garrick by commendations on the tomb scene in Con-
greve's Mourning Bride, protesting that Shakespeare had, in the same line
of excellence, nothing as good : " All which," he would add, " is strictly
true; but that is no reason for supposing that Congreve is to stand in
competition with Shakespeare ; these fellows know not how to blame, or
how to commend."—Croker.
484 boswell's life of johnson. 1769.
nating. johnson. " No, Sir. There is, to be sure, in Sheridan
something to reprehend and every thing to laugh at; but, Sir,
he is not a bad man. No, Sir; were mankind to be divided
into good and bad, he would stand considerably within the
ranks of good. And, Sir, it must be allowed that Sheridan
excels in plain declamation, though he can exhibit no cha¬
racter."
I should, perhaps, have suppressed this disquisition con¬
cerning a person of whose merit and worth I think with respect,
had he not attacked Johnson so outrageously in his " Life of
Swift," and at the same time, treated us his admirers as a set
of pigmies.1 He who has provoked the lash of wit, cannot
complain that he smarts from it.
Mrs. Montagu, a lady distinguished for having written an
" Essay on Shakspeare," being mentioned :—reynolds. " I
think that essay does her honour." johnson. " Yes, Sir ; it
does her honour, but it would do nobody else honour. I
have, indeed, not read it all. But when I take up the end
of a web, and find it packthread, I do not expect, by looking
further, to find embroidery. Sir, I will venture to say,
there is not one sentence of true criticism in her book."
Garrick. " But, Sir, surely it shows how much Voltaire
has mistaken Shakspeare, which nobody else has done."
johnson. "Sir, nobody else has thought it worth while. And
what merit is there in that ? You may as well praise a school¬
master for whipping a boy who has construed ill. No, Sir,
there is no real criticism in it: none showing the beauty of
thought, as formed on the workings of the human heart."
The admirers of this Essay 2 may be offended at the slight-
1 " There is a writer, at present of gigantic fame in these days of little
men, who has pretended to scratch out a life of Swift, but so miserably
executed as only to reflect back on himself that disgrace, which he meant
to throw upon the character of the Dean."—Sheridan, Life of Swift.—
Croker.
2 Of whom, I acknowledge myself to be one, considering it as a piece
of the secondary or comparative species of criticism ; and not of that pro¬
found species which alone Dr. Johnson would allow to be " real criticism."
It is, besides, clearly and elegantly expressed, and has done effectually
^ET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
485
ing manner in which Johnson spoke of it: but let it be re¬
membered that he gave his honest opinion unbiassed by any
prejudice, or any proud jealousy of a woman intruding herself
into the chair of criticism ; for Sir Joshua Reynolds has told
me, that when the Essay first came out, and it was not known
who had written it, Johnson wondered how Sir Joshua could
like it. At this time Sir Joshua himself had received no in¬
formation concerning the author, except being assured by one
of our most eminent literati, that it was clear its author did
not know the Greek tragedies in the original. One day at
Sir Joshua's table, when it was related that Mrs. Montagu, in
an excess of compliment to the author of a modern tragedy,
had exclaimed, "I tremble for Shakspeare," Johnson said,
" When Shakspeare has got for his rival, and Mrs. Mon¬
tagu for his defender, he is in a poor state indeed."
Johnson proceeded: "The Scotchman (Lord Kames) has
taken the right method in his ' Elements of Criticism.' I do
not mean that he has taught us any thing ; but he has told us
old things in a new way." murphy. " He seems to have read
a great deal of French criticism, and wants to make it his
own ; as if he had been for years anatomising the heart of
man, and peeping into every cranny of it." Goldsmith. " It
is easier to write that book than to read it." johnson. "We
have an example of true criticism in Burke's ' Essay on the
Sublime and Beautiful;' and, if I recollect, there is also Du
what it professed to do, namely, vindicated Shakspeare from the misrepre¬
sentations of Voltaire; and considering how many young people were misled
by his witty, though false observations, Mrs. Montagu's Essay was of
service to Shakspeare with a certain class of readers, and is, therefore,
entitled to praise. Johnson, I am assured, allowed the merit which I have
stated, saying (with reference to Voltaire), " It is conclusive ad hominem
Horace Walpole has preserved an admirable reply of hers on the sub¬
ject of Voltaire. She happened to be present at a sitting of VAcademie
Franqaise, when a violent invective against Shakespeare by Voltaire was
read. Suard, the secretary, said to her, " Je crois Madame que vous etes
tin fteu fachee de ce que vous venez d'entendre." She replied with admir¬
able good taste and good manners, " Moi, Monsieur ?—Point du tout—Je
ne suis pas amie de M. de VoltaireLett, to Mann, Dec. 1, 1776.—
Croker.
486
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
Bos,1 and Bouhours,2 who shows all beauty to depend on truth.
There is no great merit in telling how many plays have ghosts
in them, and how this ghost is better than that. You must show
how terror is impressed on the human heart. In the description
of Night in " Macbeth," the beetle and the bat detract from the
general idea of darkness—inspissated gloom."3
Politics being mentioned, he said, " This petitioning is a
new mode of distressing government, and a mighty easy one.
I will undertake to get petitions either against quarter guineas
or half guineas, with the help of a little hot wine. There must
be no yielding to encourage this. The object is not important
enough. We are not to blow up half a dozen palaces, be¬
cause one cottage is burning."
The conversation then took another turn. JOHNSON. "It
is amazing what ignorance of certain points one sometimes
finds in men of eminence. A wit about town, who wrote
Latin bawdy verses, asked me, how it happened that England
and Scotland, which were once two kingdoms, were now one :
—and Sir Fletcher Norton did not seem to know that there
were such publications as the Reviews."
"The ballad of Hardyknute4 has no great merit if it be
1 Dubos (Jean Baptiste), born at Beauvais, Dec. 1670, died at Paris,
March 23, 1742. His Reflexions Critiques sur la Poesie et la Peinture,
Paris, 1719, 2 vols., i2mo, were much read. " C'est le livre le plus utile
qu'on ait jamais ecrit sur ces matieres chez aucune des nations de l'Europe."
Voltaire, Siecle de Louis XIV.—Editor.
2 Bouhours (Dominique) was born at Paris 1628, and died there May 27,
1702. His Maniere de bienpenser dans les ouvrages d'esprit, Paris, 1687,
in 4to, has been often reprinted.—Editor.
3 —— " Ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight; ere to black Hecat's summons
The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note."—Act iii. sc. 2.
4 It is unquestionably a modern fiction. It was written by Sir John
Bruce of Kinross, and first published at Edinburgh in folio, 1719. See
Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. ii., pp. 96, 111, fourth
edition.—Malone,
Mr. Robert Chambers, of Edinburgh, who has favoured me with several
notes and corrections, says, that the real author of the ballad was Elizabeth
.ET. 60.
boswell's life of johnson.
487
really ancient. People talk of nature. But mere obvious
nature may be exhibited with very little power of mind."
On Thursday, October 19, I passed the evening with him at
his house. He advised me to complete a Dictionary of words
peculiar to Scotland, of which I showed him a specimen.
" Sir/' said he, " Ray1 has made a collectio'n of north-country
words. By collecting those of your country, you will do a use¬
ful thing towards the history of the language." He bade me
also go on with collections which I was making upon the an¬
tiquities of Scotland. " Make a large book ; a folio." Bos-
well. " But of what use will it be, Sir ? " johnson. " Never
mind the use ; do it."
I complained that he had not mentioned Garrick in his
Preface to Shakspeare; and asked him if he did not admire
him. johnson. "Yes, as'a poor player, who frets and struts
his hour upon the stage ; '—as a shadow." boswell. " But
has he not brought Shakspeare into notice?" Johnson.
" Sir, to allow that, would be to lampoon the age. Many of
Shakspeare's plays are the worse for being acted : ' Macbeth,'
for instance." boswell. " What, Sir, is nothing gained by
decoration and action ? Indeed, I do wish that,you had men¬
tioned Garrick." johnson. " My dear Sir, had I mentioned
him, I must have mentioned many more ; Mrs. Pritchard,
Mrs. Cibber—nay, and Mr. Cibber too; he too altered Shak¬
speare." boswell. "You have read his ' Apology,'2 Sir?"
johnson. "Yes, it is very entertaining. But as for Cibber
himself, taking from his conversation all that he ought not to
have said, he was a poor creature. I remember when he
Halket, daughter of Sir Charles Halket, of Pitferrane, Bart., and wife of
Sir Henry Wardlaw, of Pitreavie, Bart. : she died about 1727. The reason
why Sir John Bruce's name has been mentioned was, probably, that she
introduced her ballad to the world by the hands of that gentleman, who
was her brother-in-law.—Croker.
The ballad of Hardyknute was the first poem I ever read, and it will be
the last I shall forget.—Sir Walter Scott.
1 In his English Proverbs. Cambridge. 1670.
s The Memoirs of himself and of the Stage, which Cibber published
under the modest title of an Apology for his Life.—Croker.
488
boswell's life of johnson.
1769.
brought me one of his Odes to have my opinion of it, I could
not bear such nonsense, and would not let him read it to the
end ; so little respect had I for that great man ! (laughing).
Yet I remember Richardson wondering that I could treat him
with familiarity."
I mentioned to him that I had seen the execution of several
convicts at Tyburn two days before, and that none of them
seemed to be under any concern. johnson. " Most of them,
Sir, have never thought at all." boswell. " But is not the fear
of death natural to man ? " johnson. " So much so, Sir, that
the whole of life is but keeping away the thoughts of it." He
then, in a low and earnest tone, talked of his meditating upon
the awful hour of his own dissolution, and in what manner he
should conduct himself upon that occasion : " I know not,"
said he, " whether I should wish to have a friend by me, or
have it all between God and myself."
Talking of our feeling for the distresses of others:—john¬
son. " Why, Sir, there is much noise made about it, but it is
greatly exaggerated. No, Sir, we have a certain degree of
feeling to prompt us to do good; more than that Providence
does not intencj. It would be misery to no purpose." boswell.
" But suppose now, Sir, that one of your intimate friends were
apprehended for an offence for which he might be hanged."
johnson. "I should do what I could to bail him, and give
him any other assistance: but if he were once fairly hanged, I
should not suffer." boswell. " Would you eat your dinner
that day, Sir?" johnson. "Yes, Sir; and eat it as if he
were eating with me. Why, there's Baretti, who is to be tried
for his life to-morrow, friends have risen up for him on every
side; yet if he should be hanged, none of them will eat a slice
of pudding the less. Sir, that sympathetic feeling goes a very
little way in depressing the mind."
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 any thing that might be of service ;
JET. 60. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 489
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 those 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."
Boswell. "Foote has a great deal of humour." John¬
son. "Yes, Sir." Boswell. "He has a singular talent of
exhibiting character." johnson. " Sir, it is not a talent, it is
a vice ; it is what others abstain from. It is not comedy,
which exhibits the character of a species, as that of a miser
gathered from many misers : it is farce, which exhibits indivi¬
duals." boswell. " D'.d not he think of exhibiting you,
Sir?" johnson. " Sir, fear restrained him ; he knew I would
have broken his bones. I would have saved him the trouble of
cutting off a leg; I would not have left him a leg to cut off."
Boswell. "Pray, Sir, is not Foote an infidel?" johnson.
" I do not know, Sir, that the fellow is an infidel ; but if he be
an infidel, he is an infidel as a dog is an infidel; that is to say, he
has never thought upon the subject." 1 boswell. " I suppose,
1 When Mr. Foote was at Edinburgh, he thought fit to entertain a nu¬
merous Scotch company, with a great deal of coarse jocularity, at the
expense of Dr. Johnson, imagining it would be acceptable. I felt this as
not civil to me; but sat very patiently till he had exhausted his merri¬
ment on that subject; and then observed, that surely Johnson must be
allowed to have some sterling wit, and that I had heard him say a very
good thing of Mr. Foote himself. "Ah ! my old friend Sam," cried Foote,
" no man says better things : do let us have it." Upon which I told the
above story, which produced a very loud laugh from the company. But
I never saw Foote so disconcerted. He looked grave and angry, and
490
boswell's life of johnson.
1769.
Sir, he has thought superficially, and seized the first notions
which occurred to his mind." johnson. "Why then, Sir, still
he is like a dog, that snatches the piece next him. Did you never
observe that dogs have not the power of comparing ? A dog
will take a small bit of meat as readily as a large, when both
are before him."
"Buchanan," he observed, "has fewer centos1 than any
modern Latin poet. He not only had great knowledge of
the Latin language, but was a great poetical genius. Both
the Scaligers praise him."
He again talked of the passage in Congreve with high com¬
mendation, and said, " Shakespeare never has six lines together
without a fault. Perhaps you may find seven : but this does
not refute my general assertion. If I come to an orchard, and
say there's no fruit here, and then comes a poring man, who
finds two apples and three pears, and tells me, ' Sir, you are
mistaken, I have found both apples and pears,' I should laugh
at him : what would that be to the purpose ? "
Boswell. "What do you think of Dr. Young's 'Night
Thoughts,' Sir ? " johnson. "Why, Sir, there are very fine
things in them." Boswell. " Is there not less religion in the
nation now, Sir, than there was formerly?" Johnson. "I
don't know, Sir, that there is." Boswell. "For instance,
there used to be a chaplain in every great family, which we
do not find now." johnson. " Neither do you find any of
the state servants which great families used formerly to have.
There is a change of modes in the whole department of
life."
Next day, October 20, he appeared, for the only time I
suppose in his life, as a witness in a court of justice, being
called to give evidence to the character of Mr. Baretti, who,
entered into a serious refutation of the justice of the remark. " What,
Sir," said he, " talk thus of a man of liberal education—a man who for
years was at the University of Oxford—a man who has added sixteen new
characters to the English drama of his country !"
1 " A composition formed by joining scraps from other authors." John¬
son's Dictionary.—Croker.
JET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
491
having stabbed a man in the street,1 was arraigned at the Old
Bailey for murder. Never did such a constellation of genius
enlighten the awful Sessions-house, emphatically called Jus¬
tice-hall ; .Mr. Burke, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Beauclerk, and Dr.
Johnson : and undoubtedly their favourable testimony had
due weight with the court and jury. Johnson gave his evi¬
dence in a slow, deliberate, and distinct manner, which was
uncommonly impressive.2 It is well known that Mr. Baretti
was acquitted.
On the 26th of October, we dined together at the Mitre
tavern. I found fault with Foote for indulging his talent of
ridicule at the expense of his visitors, which I colloquially
termed making fools of his company. JOHNSON. "Why, Sir,
when you go to see Foote, you do not go to see a saint: you
go to see a man who will be entertained at your house, and
then bring you on a public stage ; who will entertain you at his
house, for the very purpose of bringing you on a public stage.
Sir, he does not make fools of his company ; they whom he
exposes are fools already; he only brings them into action."
Talking of trade, he observed, " It is a mistaken notion that
a vast deal of money is brought into a nation by trade. It is
1 On the 3d of October, as Baretti was going hastily up the Haymarket,
he was accosted by a woman, who behaving with great indecency, he was
provoked to give her a blow on the hand : upon which three men imme¬
diately interfering, and endeavouring to push him from the pavement, with
a view to throw him into a puddle, he was alarmed for his safety, and
rashly struck one of them with a knife (which he constantly wore for the
purpose of carving fruit and sweetmeats), and gave him a wound, of which
he died the next day. European Magazine, vol. xvi., p. 91.— Wright.
2 The following is the substance of Dr. Johnson's evidence :—"Dr. J.
I believe I began to be acquainted with Mr. Baretti about the year 1753 or
1754. I have been intimate with him. He is a man of literature, a very
studious man, a man of great diligence. He gets his living by study. I
have no reason to think he was ever disordered with liquor in his life. A
man that I never knew to be otherwise than peaceable, and a man that I
take to be rather timorous.—Q. Was he addicted to pick up women in the
streets ?—Dr, J. I never knew that he was.—Q. How is he as to eyesight ?
—Dr. J. He does not see me now, nor do I see him. I do not believe he
could be capable of assaulting any body in the street, without great pro¬
vocation." Gentleman's Magazine.—Croker.
492
boswell's life of johnson.
1769.
not so. Commodities come from commodities ; but trade pro¬
duces no capital accession of wealth. However, though there
should be little profit in money, there is a considerable profit
in pleasure, as it gives to one nation the productions of another,
as we have wines and fruits, and many other foreign articles,
brought to us." Boswell. "Yes, Sir, and there is a profit in
pleasure, by its furnishing occupation to such numbers of man¬
kind." johnson. "Why, Sir, you cannot call that pleasure,
to which all are averse, and which none begin but with the
hope of leaving off; a thing which men dislike before they
have tried it, and when they have tried it." Boswell. " But,
Sir, the mind must be employed, and we grow weary when
idle." johnson. "That is, Sir, because others being busy,
we want company; but if we were all idle, there would be no
growing weary; we should all entertain one another. There
is, indeed, this in trade ;—it gives men an opportunity of im¬
proving their situation. If there were no trade, many who are
poor would always remain poor. But no man loves labour for
itself." Boswell. "Yes, Sir, I know a person who does.1 He
is a very laborious Judge, and he loves the labour." johnson.
" Sir, that is because he loves respect and distinction. Could
he have them without labour, he would like it less." boswell.
" He tells me he likes it for itself." johnson. " Why, Sir, he
fancies so, because he is not accustomed to abstract."
We went home to his house to tea. Mrs. Williams made it
with sufficient dexterity, notwithstanding her blindness, though
her manner of satisfying herself that the cups were full enough,
appeared to me a little awkward ; for I fancied she put her
finger down a certain way, till she felt the tea touch it.2 In my
first elation at being allowed the privilege of attending Dr.
Johnson at his late visits to this lady, which was like being e
1 His father, Lord Auchinlech.—Croker.
2 I have since had reason to think that I was mistaken ; for I have been
informed by a lady, who was long intimate with her, and likely to bfe a
more accurate observer of such matters, that she had acquired such a
niceness of touch, as to know, by the feeling on the outside of the cup, how
near it was to being full.
JET 60. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
493
secretioribus consiliis, I willingly drank cup after cup, as if it
had been the Heliconian spring. But as the charm of novelty-
went off, I grew more fastidious; and besides, I discovered
that she was of a peevish temper.
There was a pretty large circle this evening. Dr. Johnson
was in very good humour, lively, and ready to talk upon all
subjects. Mr. Ferguson,the self-taught philosopher,1 told him
of a new-invented machine which went without horses:2 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." Dominicetti3 being men¬
tioned, he would not allow him any merit. " There 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, therefore, 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 deter-
1 James Ferguson was born in Banff, in 1710, of very poor parents.
While tending his master's sheep, he acquired a knowledge of the stars,
and constructed a celestial globe. This attracted the notice of some
gentlemen, who procured him further instructions. At length, he went to
Edinburgh, where he drew portraits in miniature at a small price; and
this profession he pursued afterwards, when he resided in Bolt Court.
He died Nov. 16, 1776.— Wright.
His Lectures on Select Subjects in Mechanics, &c.; his Essays and
Treatises; his Astronomy, were re-edited by Brewster, Edinburgh, 1823-
1841.—Editor.
2 " The very ingenious Mr. Patence, of Bolt Court, has constructed a
phaeton which goes without horses, and is built on a principle different
from anything of the kind hitherto attempted." London Chronicle, Sept.
11, 1769. — Wright.
3 Dominicetti was an Italian quack, who made a considerable noise
about this time, by the use of medicated baths, which were established in
1765 in Cheney Walk, Chelsea. In 1782 he became a bankrupt.—Croker.
494
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
mined 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 comedies: "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,1 " 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 produced a triumphant roar of laughter from the motley
assembly of philosophers, printers, and dependents, male and
female.
I know not how so whimsical a thought came into my mind,
but I asked, " If, Sir, you were shut up in a castle, and a new¬
born child with you, what would you do ? " johnson. "Why,
Sir, I should not much like my company." Boswell. " But
would you take the trouble of rearing it ? " He seemed, as
may well be supposed, unwilling to pursue the subject : but
upon my persevering in my question, replied, " Why yes, Sir,
I would ; but I must have all conveniences. If I had no garden,
I would make a shed on the roof, and take it there for fresh
air. I should feed it, and wash it much, and with warm water
to please it, not with cold water to give it pain." Boswell.
"But, Sir, does not heat relax?" johnson. "Sir, you are
not to imagine the water is to be very hot. I would not coddle
the child. No, Sir, the hardy method of treating children does
no good. I'll take you five children from London, who shall cuff
five Highland children. Sir, a man bred in London will carry
a burthen, or run, or wrestle, as well as a man brought up in
the hardest manner in the country." Boswell. " Good living,
I suppose, makes the Londoners strong." johnson. "Why,
Sir, I don't know that it does. Our chairmen from Ireland,
who are as strong men as any, have been brought up upon
potatoes. Quantity makes up for quality." Boswell. "Would
you teach this child that I have furnished you with, any thing ? "
1 Mr. Boswell himself. Mr. Chalmers told me that Boswell's mode of
relating Johnson's wit, without confessing that he himself was the object
of it, was well understood, and much laughed at, on the first publication of
his work.—Croker.
JET. 60.
boswell's life of johnson.
495
Johnson. "No, I should not be apt to teach it." Boswell.
"Would not you have a pleasure in teaching it ? " johnson.
" No, Sir, I should not have a pleasure in teaching it." Bos-
well. " Have you not a pleasure in teaching men ? There I
have you. You have the same pleasure in teaching men, that
I should have in teaching children." johnson. " Why, some¬
thing about that."
Boswell. " Do you think, Sir, that what is called natural
affection is born with us ? It seems to me to be the effect of
habit, or of gratitude for kindness. No child has it for a
parent whom it has not seen." johnson. "Why, Sir, I
think there is an instinctive natural affection in parents towards
their children."
Russia being mentioned as likely to become a great empire,
by the rapid increase of population :—johnson. " Why, Sir,
I see no prospect of their propagating more. They can have
no more children than they can get. I know of no way to make
them breed more than they do. It is not from reason and pru¬
dence that people marry, but from inclination. A man is poor:
he thinks, ' I cannot be worse, and so I'll e'en take Peggy.'"
boswell. " But have not nations been more populous at one
period than another?" johnson. "Yes, Sir; but that has
been owing to the people being less thinned at one period than
another, whether by emigrations, war, or pestilence, not by their
being more or less prolific. Births at all times bear the same
proportion to the same number of people." Boswell. " But, to
consider the state of our own country;—does not throwing a
number of farms into one hand hurt population ? " Johnson.
" Why no, Sir; the same quantity of food being produced,
will be consumed by the same number of mouths, though the
people may be disposed of in different ways. We see, if corn
be dear, and butchers' meat cheap, the farmers all apply them¬
selves to the raising of corn, till it becomes plentiful and cheap,
and then butchers' meat becomes dear; so that an equality is
always preserved. No, Sir, let fanciful men do as they will,
depend upon it, it is difficult to disturb the system of life."
boswell. " But, Sir, is it not a very bad thing for landlords
496
boswell's life of johnson.
1769.
to oppress their tenants, by raising their rents?" Johnson.
" Very bad. But, Sir, it never can have any general influence;
it may distress some individuals. For, consider this: land¬
lords cannot do without tenants. Now tenants will not give
more for land, than land is worth. If they can make more of
their money by keeping a shop, or any other way, they'll do it,
and so oblige landlords to let land come back to a reasonable
rent, in order that they may get tenants. Land, in England,
is an article of commerce. A tenant who pays his landlord
his rent, thinks himself no more obliged to him, than you think
yourself obliged to a man in whose shop you buy a piece of
goods. He knows the landlord does not let him have his land
for less than he can get from others, in the same manner as the
shopkeeper sells his goods. No shopkeeper sells a yard of riband
for sixpence when sevenpence is the current price." boswell.
" But, Sir, is it not better that tenants should be dependent on
landlords?" johnson. " Why, Sir, as there are many more
tenants than landlords, perhaps, strictlyspeaking, weshould wish
not. But, if you please, you may let your lands cheap, and so get
the value, part in money and part in homage. I should agree
with you in that." boswell. " So, Sir, you laugh at schemes
of political improvement." johnson. "Why, Sir, most
schemes of political improvement are very laughable
things."
He observed, " Providence has wisely ordered that the more
numerous men are, the more difficult it is for them to agree in
any thing, and so they are governed. There is no doubt, that if
the poor should reason, ' We'll be the poor no longer, we'll
make the rich take their turn,' they could easily do it, were it
not that they can't agree. So the common soldiers, though so
much more numerous than their officers, are governed by them
for the same reason."
He said, " Mankind have a strong attachment to the habi¬
tations to which they have been accustomed. You see the in¬
habitants of Norway do not with one consent quit it, and go to
some part of America, where there is a mild climate, and where
they may have the same produce from land, with the tenth
JET. 60.
boswell's life of johnson.
497
part of the labour. No, Sir; their affection for their old
dwellings, and the terror of a general change, keep them
at home. Thus, we see many of the finest spots in the
world thinly inhabited, and many rugged spots well in¬
habited."
" The London Chronicle," which was the only newspaper he
constantly took in, being brought, the office of reading it aloud
was assigned to me. I was diverted by his impatience. He
made me pass over so many parts of it, that my task was very
easy. He would not suffer one of the petitions to the King
about the Middlesex election to be read.
I had hired a Bohemian as my servant while I remained in
London ; and being much pleased with him, I asked Dr. John¬
son whether his being a Roman Catholic should prevent my
taking him with me to Scotland. Johnson. "Why no, Sir.
If he has no objection, you can have none." Boswell. " So,
Sir, you are no great enemy to the Roman Catholic religion."
johnson. " No more, Sir, than to the Presbyterian religion."
Boswell. "You are joking." Johnson. " No, Sir, I really
think so. Nay, Sir, of the two, I prefer the Popish." boswell.
"How so, Sir?" Johnson. "Why, Sir, the Presbyterians
have no church, no apostolical ordination." boswell. " And
do you think that absolutely essential, Sir?" johnson.
" Why, Sir, as it was an apostolical institution, I think it is
dangerous to be without it. And, Sir, the Presbyterians have
no public worship ; they have no form of prayer in which they
know they are to join. They go to hear a man pray, and
are to judge whether they will join with him." Boswell. "But,
Sir, their doctrine is the same with that of the Church of Eng¬
land. Their confession of faith, and the thirty-nine articles,
contain the same points, even the doctrine of predestination."
johnson. " Why, yes, Sir; predestination was a part of the
clamour of the times, so it is mentioned in our articles, but with
as little positiveness as could be." boswell. "Is it necessary,
Sir, to believe all the thirty-nine articles?" johnson. "Why,
Sir, that is a question which has been much agitated. Some
have thought it necessary that they should all be believed;
k k
498
boswell's life of johnson.
1769.
others have considered them to be only articles of peace,1 that
is to say, you are not to preach against them." Boswell. " It
appears to me, Sir, that predestination, or what is equivalent
to it, cannot be avoided, if we hold an universal prescience in
the Deity." johnson. "Why, Sir, does not God every day
see things going on without preventing them ?" boswell.
"True, Sir; but if a thing be certainly foreseen, it must be
fixed, and cannot happen otherwise ; and if we apply this con¬
sideration to the human mind, there is no free will, nor do I
see how prayer can be of any avail." He mentioned Dr.
Clarke, and Bishop Bramhall on Liberty and Necessity, and
bid me read South's Sermons on Prayer; but avoided the
question which has excruciated philosophers and divines, be¬
yond any other. I did not press it further, when I perceived
that he was displeased, and shrunk from any abridgment of
an attribute usually ascribed to the Divinity, however irrecon-
cileable in its full extent with the grand system of moral
government. His supposed orthodoxy here cramped the
vigorous powers of his understanding. He was confined by a
chain which early imagination and strong habit made him
think massy and strong, but which, had he ventured to try, he
could at once have snapped asunder.
. I proceeded: " What do you think, Sir, of Purgatory, as be¬
lieved by the Roman Catholics?" johnson. "Why, Sir, it
is a very harmless doctrine. They are of opinion that the
generality of mankind are neither so obstinately wicked as to
deserve everlasting punishment, nor so good as to merit being
1 Dr. Simon Patrick (afterwards Bishop of Ely) thus expresses himself
on this subject, in a letter to the learned Dr. John Mapletoft, dated Feb. 8,
1682-3 :—
" I always took the ' Articles' to be only articles of communion ; and so
Bishop Bramhall expressly maintains against the Bishop of Chalcedon ;
and I remember well, that Bishop Sanderson, when the king was first
restored, received the subscription of an acquaintance of mine, which he
declared was not to them as articles of faith but peace. I think you need
make no scruple of the matter, because all that I know so understand the
meaning of subscription, and upon other terms would not subscribe."—
Malone.
JET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
499
admitted into the society of blessed spirits ; and therefore that
God is graciously pleased to allow of a middle state, where
they may be purified by certain degrees of suffering. You
see, Sir, there is nothing unreasonable in this." BOSWELL.
" But then, Sir, their masses for the dead ? " JOHNSON. " Why,
Sir, if it be once established that there are souls in purgatory,
it is as proper to pray for them, as for our brethren of mankind
who are yet in this life." BOSWELL. " The idolatry of the
mass?"—JOHNSON. "Sir, there is no idolatry in the mass.
They believe God to be there, and they adore him." BOSWELL.
• "The worship of saints?" JOHNSON. "Sir, they do not
worship saints; they invoke them; they only ask their prayers.
I am talking all this time of the doctrines of the Church of
Rome. I grant you that, in practice, purgatory is made a
lucrative imposition, and that the people do become idolatrous
as they recommend themselves to the tutelary protection of
particular saints. I think their giving the sacrament only in
one kind is criminal, because it is contrary to the express in¬
stitution of Christ, and I wonder how the Council of Trent ad¬
mitted it." BOSWELL. " Confession ?" JOHNSON. "Why,
I don't know but that is a good thing. The Scripture says,
' Confess your faults one to another,' and the priests confess as
well as the laity. Then it must be considered that their
absolution is only upon repentance, and often upon penance
also. You think your sins may be forgiven without penance,
upon repentance alone."
I thus ventured to mention all the common objections against
the Roman Catholic church, that I might hear so great a man
upon them. What he said is here accurately recorded. But it
is not improbable that, if one had taken the other side, he might
have reasoned differently.
I must however mention, that he had a respect for " the old
religion," as the mild Melancthon called that of the Roman
Catholic church, even while he was exerting himself for its
reformation in some particulars. Sir William Scott informs
me, that he heard J ohnson say, " A man who is converted
from Protestantism to Popery, may be sincere : he parts with
5oo
boswell's life of johnson.
1769.
nothing: he is only superadding to what he already had. But
a convert from Popery to Protestantism gives up so much of
what he has held as sacred as any thing that he retains—there
is so much laceration of mind in such a conversion—that it
can hardly be sincere and lasting." The truth of this reflec¬
tion may be confirmed by many and eminent instances, some
of which will occur to most of my readers.
When we were alone, I introduced the subject of death, and
endeavoured 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 this 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 very
ill he was not afraid to die." johnson. "It is not true, Sir.
Hold a pistol to Foote's breast, or to Hume's breast, and threa¬
ten to kill them ; and you'll see how they behave." boswell.
" But may we not fortify our minds for the approach 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 as¬
sailing 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
jet. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
501
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 thisand was
thrown into such a state of agitation, that he expressed himself
in a way that alarmed and distressed me; showed an im¬
patience 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 [27th October], I sent him a note, stating
that I might have been in the wrong, but it was not inten¬
tionally ; he was therefore, I could not help thinking, too
severe upon me. That notwithstanding our agreement not to
meet that day, I would 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 reflec¬
tion, softened him, for he received me very complacently; so
that I unexpectedly found myself at ease, and joined in the
conversation.
He said, the critics had done too much honour to Sir
Richard Blackmore, by writing so much against him. That,
in his " Creation," he had been helped by various wits, a line
by Phillips and a line by Tickell; so that by their aid, and
that of others, the poem had been made out.1
1 Johnson himself has vindicated Blackmore upon this very point.
See the Lives of the Poets, vol. iii., p. 75. 8vo. 1791.—J. Boswell, jun.
502
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1769.
I defended Blackniore's supposed lines, which have been
ridiculed as absolute nonsense :—
" A painted vest Prince Vortiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won."1
I maintained it to be a poetical conceit A Pict being painted,
if he is slain in battle, and a vest is made of his skin, it is a
painted vest won from him, though he was naked.
Johnson spoke unfavourably of a certain pretty voluminous
author, saying, " He used to write anonymous books, and then
other books commending those books, in which there was
something of rascality."
I whispered him, " Well, Sir, you are now in good humour."
JOHNSON. "Yes, Sir." I was going to leave him, and had
got as far as the staircase. He stopped me, and smiling, said,
"Get you gone in;" a curious mode of inviting me to stay,
which I accordingly did for some time longer.
This little incidental quarrel and reconciliation, which, per¬
haps, I may be thought to have detailed too minutely, must
be esteemed as one of many proofs which his friends had, that
1 An acute correspondent of the European Magazine, April, 1792, has
completely exposed the mistake of ascribing these lines to Blackmore, not¬
withstanding that Sir Richard Steele, in The Spectator, [No. 43,] mentions
them as written by the author of The British Princes, the Hon. Edward
Howard. The correspondent above mentioned, shows this mistake to be
so inveterate, that not only / defended the lines as Blackmore's, in the
presence of Dr. Johnson, without any contradiction or doubt of their
authenticity, but that the Rev. Mr. Whitaker has asserted in print, that he
understands they were suppressed in the late editions of Blackmore.
" After all," says this intelligent writer, " it is not unworthy of particular
observation, that these lines, so often quoted, do not exist either in Black-
more or Howard." In The British Princes, 8vo., 1669, now before me,
p. 96, they stand thus :—
"A vest as admired Vortiger had on
Which from this Island's foes his grandsire won,
Whose artful colour pass'd the Tyrian dye,
Obliged to triumph in this legacy."
It is probable, I think, that some wag, in order to make Howard still
more ridiculous than he really was, has formed the couplet as it now
circulates.—[Note in the second edition, vol. i., p. 565.—Editor.]
JET. 60.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
503
though he might be charged with bad humour at times, he was
always a good-natured man; and I have heard Sir Joshua
Reynolds, a nice and delicate observer of manners, particularly
remark, that when upon any occasion J ohnson had been rough
to any person in company, he took the first opportunity of re¬
conciliation, by drinking to him, or addressing his discourse to
him; but if he found his dignified indirect overtures sullenly
neglected, he was quite indifferent, and considered himself as
having done all that he ought to do, and the other as now in
the wrong.
Being to set out for Scotland on the 10th of November, I
wrote to him at Streatham, begging that he would meet me
in town on the 9th ; but if this should be very inconvenient to
him, I would go thither. His answer was as follows :—
TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" Nov. 9, 1769.
" Dear Sir,
" Upon balancing the inconveniences of both parties, I find it
will less incommode you to spend your night here, than me to come
to town. I wish to see you, and am ordered by the lady of this house
to invite you hither. Whether you can come or not, I shall not have
any occasion of writing to you again before your marriage, and there¬
fore tell you now, that with great sincerity I wish you happiness. I
am, dear Sir, your most affectionate humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
I was detained in town till it was too late on the 9th, so went
to him early in the morning of the 10th of November. " Now,"
said he, " that you are going to marry, do not expect more from
life than life will afford. You may often find yourself out of
humour, and you may often think your wife not studious enough
to please you ; and yet you may have reason to consider your¬
self as upon the whole very happily married."
Talking of marriage in general, he observed, " Our marriage
service is too refined. It is calculated only for the best kind of
marriages: whereas, we should have a form for matches of
convenience, of which there are many." He agreed with me
504
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I770.
that there was no absolute necessity for having the marriage
ceremony performed by a regular clergyman, for this was
not commanded in Scripture.
I was volatile enough to repeat to him a little epigram¬
matic song of mine,1 on matrimony, which Mr. Garrick had,
a few days before, procured to be set to music by the very
ingenious Mr. Dibdin.
A Matrimonial Thought.
" In the blithe days of honey-moon,
With Kate's allurements smitten,
I loved her late, I loved her soon,
And called her dearest kitten.
" But now my kitten's grown a cat,
And cross like other wives;
Oh ! by my soul, my honest Mat,
I fear she has nine lives."
My illustrious friend said, " It is very well, Sir ; but you should
not swear." Upon which I altered " Oh! by my soul," to
" Alas, alas!"
He was so good as to accompany me to London, and see
me into the post-chaise which was to carry me on my road
to Scotland. And sure I am, that however inconsiderable
many of the particulars recorded at this time may appear to
some, they will be esteemed by the best part of my readers
as genuine traits of his character, contributing together to
give a full, fair, and distinct view of it,
In 1770, he published a political pamphlet, entitled " The
False Alarm," intended to justify the conduct of the ministry
and their majority in the House of Commons, for having vir¬
tually assumed it as an axiom, that the expulsion of a member
of parliament was equivalent to exclusion, and thus having
declared Colonel Luttrell to be duly elected for the county of
Middlesex, notwithstanding Mr. Wilkes had a great majority
of votes. This being justly considered as a gross violation of
1 Mr. Boswell used (as did also his eldest son, Sir Alexander) to sing in
convivial society songs of his own composition.—Croker.
iET. 6l.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
505
the right of election, an alarm for the constitution extended
itself all over the kingdom. To prove this alarm to be false,
was the purpose of J ohnson's pamphlet; but even his vast
powers were inadequate to cope with constitutional truth
and reason, and his argument failed of effect; and the House
of Commons have since expunged the offensive resolution
from their Journals. That the House of Commons might have
expelled Mr. Wilkes repeatedly, and as often as he should be
re-chosen, was not denied ; but incapacitation cannot be but
by an act of the whole legislature. It was wonderful to see
how a prejudice in favour of government in general and an
aversion to popular clamour, could blind and contract such an
understanding as Johnson's, in this particular case; yet the
wit, the sarcasm, the eloquent vivacity which this pamphlet
displayed, made it be read with great avidity1 at the time, and
it will ever be read with pleasure, for the sake of its composi¬
tion. That it endeavoured to infuse a narcotic indifference, as
to public concerns, into the minds of the people, and that it
broke out sometimes into an extreme coarseness of contemp¬
tuous abuse, is but too evident.
It must not, however, be omitted, that when the storm of
his violence subsides, he takes a fair opportunity to pay a
grateful compliment to the King, who had rewarded his
merit:—" These low-born rulers have endeavoured, surely
without effect, to alienate the affections of the people from
the only King who for almost a century has much appeared to
desire, or much endeavoured to deserve them." And, " Every
honest man must lament, that the faction has been regarded
with frigid neutrality by the Tories, who being long accus¬
tomed to signalise their principles by opposition to the Court,
do not yet consider, that they have at last a King who knows
not the name of party, and who wishes to be the common
father of all his people."2
1 The False Alarm, was published by T. Cadell, in the Strand, Jan.
16, 1770; a second edition appeared Feb. 6, and a third, March 13.—
Wright.
2 The False Alarm, his first and favourite pamphlet, was written at our
50 6
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1770.
To this pamphlet, which was at once discovered to be John¬
son's, several answers came out, in which care was taken to re¬
mind the public of his former attacks upon government, and of
his now being a pensioner, without allowing for the honourable
terms upon which Johnson's pension was granted and accepted,
or the change of system which the British court had undergone
upon the accession of his present Majesty. He was, however,
soothed in the highest strain of panegyric, in a poem called
" The Remonstrance," by the Rev. Mr. Stockdale,1 to whom he
was, upon many occasions, a kind protector.
The following admirable minute made by him, describes so
well his own state, and that of numbers to whom self-examina¬
tion is habitual, that I cannot omit it:—
"June 1,17 70. Every man naturally persuades himself that he can
keep his resolutions, nor is he convinced of his imbecility but by
length of time and frequency of experiment. This opinion of our own
constancy is so prevalent, that we always despise him who suffers his
general and settled purpose to be overpowered by an occasional desire.
They, therefore, whom frequent failures have made desperate, cease
to form resolutions; and they who are become cunning, do not tell
them. Those who do not make them are very few, but of their effect
little is perceived; for scarcely any man persists in a course of life
planned by choice, but as he is restrained from deviation by some
external power. He who may live as he will, seldom lives long in the
observation of his own rules. I never yet saw a regular family, unless
it were that of Mrs. Harriot's, nor a regular man, except Mr. ,
whose exactness I know only by his own report, and Psalmanazer,
whose life was, I think, uniform."2
Of this year I have obtained the following letters :
house, between eight o'clock on Wednesday night and twelve o'clock on
Thursday night : we read it to Mr. Thrale, when he came very late home
from the House of Commons. Anecdotes, p. 41.—Croker.
1 The Rev. Percival Stockdale, whose strange and rambling Autobio¬
graphy was published in 1808 : he was the author of several bad poems,
and died in 1810, at the age of 75. He was Johnson's neighbour for some
years, both in Johnson's Court and Bolt Court.—Croker.
2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 95.
JET. 6l.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
507
TO THE REVEREND DR. FARMER, CAMBRIDGE.
"Johnson's Court, March 21, 177°-
" Sir, •
" As no man ought to keep wholly to himself any possession
that may be useful to the public, I hope you will not think me unrea¬
sonably intrusive, if I have recourse to you for such information as
you are more able to give me than any other man.
" In support of an opinion which you have already placed above
the need of any more support, Mr. Steevens, a very ingenious gentle¬
man, lately of King's College, has collected an account of all the
translations which Shakspeare might have seen and used. He wishes
his catalogue to be perfect, and therefore entreats that you will favour
him by the insertion of such additions as the accuracy of your in¬
quiries has enabled you to make. To this request, I take the liberty
of adding my own solicitation.
" We have no immediate use for this catalogue, and therefore do
not desire that it should interrupt or hinder your more important em¬
ployments. But it will be kind to let us know that you receive it. I
am, Sir, &c., " Sam. Johnson."
TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON.
"London, June 23, 1770.
" Dear Sir,
" The readiness with which you were pleased to promise me
some notes on Shakspeare, was a new instance of your friendship. I
shall not hurry you ; but am desired by Mr. Steevens, who helps me
in this edition, to let you know, that we shall print the tragedies first,
and shall therefore want first the notes which belong to them. We
think not to incommode the readers with a supplement; and there¬
fore, what we cannot put into its proper place, will do us no good.
We shall not begin to print before the end of six weeks, perhaps not
so soon. I am, &c., " Sam. Johnson."
TO THE REVEREND DR. JOSEPH WARTON.
" Sep. 21, 1770.
"Dear Sir,
"I am revising my edition of Shakspeare, and remember that
I formerly misrepresented your opinion of Lear. Be pleased to write
508
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1770.
the paragraph as you would have it, and send it. If you have any
remarks of your own upon that or any other play, I shall gladly re¬
ceive them. Make my compliments to Mrs. Warton. I sometimes
think of wandering for a few days to Winchester, but am apt to delay.
I am, Sir, your most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
TO MR. FRANCIS "BARBER.
At Mrs. Clapfis, Bishofi-Stortford.
"London, Sept. 25, 1770.
" Dear Francis,
" I am at last sat down to write to you, and should very much
blame myself for having neglected you so long, if I did not impute
that and many other failings to want of health. I hope not to be so
long silent again. I am very well satisfied with your progress, if you
can really perform the exercises which you are set; and I hope Mr.
Ellis does not suffer you to impose on him, or on yourself. Make
my compliments to Mr. Ellis, and to Mrs. Clapp, and Mr. Smith.
" Let me know what English books you read for your entertain¬
ment. You can never be wise unless you love reading. Do not
imagine that I shall forget or forsake you; for if, when I examine you,
I find that you have not lost your time, you shall want no encourage¬
ment from yours affectionately, "Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME.
" December 7, 1770.
" Dear Francis,
" I hope you mind your business. I design you shall stay with
Mrs. Clapp these holidays. If you are invited out you may go, if Mr.
Ellis gives leave. I have ordered you some clothes, which you will
receive, I believe, next week. My compliments to Mrs. Clapp, and
to Mr. Ellis, and to Mr. Smith, &c.—I am your affectionate
" Sam. Johnson."
During this year there was a total cessation of all corre¬
spondence between Dr. Johnson and me, without any coldness
on either side, but merely from procrastination, continued from
day to day; and, as I was not in London, I had no oppor¬
tunity of enjoying his company and recording his conversa¬
tion. To supply this blank, I shall present my readers with some
jet. 6I.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
509
Collectanea, obligingly furnished to me by the Rev. Dr. Max¬
well,1 of Falkland, in Ireland, some time assistant preacher at
the Temple, and for many years the social friend of Johnson,
who spoke of him with a very kind regard.
" My acquaintance with that great and venerable character com¬
menced in the year 1754. I was introduced to him by Mr. Grierson,2
his Majesty's printer at Dublin, a gentleman of uncommon learning,
and great wit and vivacity. Mr. Grierson died in Germany, at the
age of twenty-seven. Dr. Johnson highly respected his abilities, and
often observed, that he possessed more extensive knowledge than any
man of his years he had ever known. His industry was equal to his
talents; and he particularly excelled in every species of philological
learning, and was, perhaps, the best critic of the age he lived in.
" I must always remember with gratitude my obligation to Mr.
Grierson, for the honour and happiness of Dr. Johnson's acquaintance
and friendship, which continued uninterrupted and undiminished to
his death; a connection that was at once the pride and happiness of
my life.
" What pity it is, that so much wit and good sense as he continu-
1 Dr. William Maxwell was the son of Dr. John Maxwell, Archdeacon
of Downe, in Ireland, and cousin of the Honourable Henry Maxwell,
Bishop of Dromore in 1765, and of Meath in 1766, from whom he obtained
preferment; but having a considerable property of his own, he resigned
the living when, as it is said, his residence was insisted on ; and he fixed
himself in Bath, where he died, so late as 1818, at the age of 87. Dr.
Maxwell was deservedly proud of his acquaintance with Johnson, and had
caught something of his style of conversation. Some of his anecdotes are
trifling, others obscure, some misprinted, and several, I suspect, misstated;
which is not surprising, as they seem to have been written for Mr. Bos-
well's publication from memory, a great many years after the events.—
Croker.
2 Son of the learned Mrs. Grierson, who was patronised by the late Lord
Granville, and was the editor of several of the classics.
Her edition of Tacitus, with the notes of Ryckius, in three volumes,
8vo., 1730, was dedicated, in very elegant Latin, to John, Lord Carteret
(afterwards Earl Granville), by whom she was patronised during his resi¬
dence in Ireland as Lord Lieutenant between 1724 and 1730.—Malone.
Lord Carteret gave her family the lucrative patent office of king's
printer in Ireland, still enjoyed by her descendants. She was very hand¬
some, as well as learned.—Croker.
The patent has just expired.—P. Cunningham, 1846.
5io
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1770.
ally exhibited in conversation, should perish unrecorded! Few persons
quitted his company without perceiving themselves wiser and better
than they were before. On serious subjects he flashed the most in¬
teresting conviction upon his auditors; and upon lighter topics you
might have supposed—Albano musas de monte locutas.
" Though I can hope to add but little to the celebrity of so exalted
a character, by any communications I can furnish, yet, out of pure
respect to his memory, I will venture to transmit to you some anec¬
dotes concerning him, which fell under my own observation. The
very minutice of such a character must be interesting, and may be com¬
pared to the filings of diamonds.
" In politics he was deemed a Tory, but certainly was not so in the
obnoxious or party sense of the term; for while he asserted the legal
and salutary prerogatives of the crown, he no less respected the con¬
stitutional liberties of the people. Whiggism, at the time of the
Revolution, he said, was accompanied with certain principles; but
latterly, as a mere party distinction under Walpole and the Pelhams,
was no better than the politics of stock-jobbers, and the religion of
infidels.
" He detested the idea of governing by parliamentary corruption,
and asserted most strenuously, that a prince steadily and conspi¬
cuously pursuing the interests of his people could not fail of parlia¬
mentary concurrence. A prince of ability, he contended, might and
should be the directing soul and spirit of his own administration; in
short, his own minister, and not the mere head of a party; and then,
and not till then, would the royal dignity be sincerely respected.
" Johnson seemed to think, that a certain degree of crown influence
over the Houses of Parliament, (not meaning a corrupt and shameful
dependence) was very salutary, nay, even necessary, in our mixed
government. 'For,' said he, 'if the members were under no crown
influence, and disqualified from receiving any gratification from Court,
and resembled, as they possibly might, Pym and Haslerig, and other
stubborn and sturdy members of the Long Parliament, the wheels of
government would be totally obstructed. Such men would oppose,
merely to show their power, from envy, jealousy, and perversity of
disposition; and, not gaining themselves, would hate and oppose all
who did: not loving the person of the prince, and conceiving they
owed him little gratitude, from the mere spirit of insolence and
contradiction, they would oppose and thwart him upon all occa¬
sions.'
" The inseparable imperfection annexed to all human governments
JET. 6l.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
consisted, he said, in not being able to create a sufficient fund of virtue
and principle to carry the laws into due and effectual execution.
Wisdom might plan, but virtue alone could execute. And where
could sufficient virtue be found ? A variety of delegated, and often
discretionary, powers must be entrusted somewhere; which, if not
governed by integrity and conscience, would necessarily be abused,
till at last the constable would sell his for a shilling.
" This excellent person was sometimes charged with abetting slavish
and arbitrary principles of government. Nothing, in my opinion,
could be a grosser calumny and misrepresentation; for how can it be
rationally supposed, that he should adopt such pernicious and absurd
opinions, who supported his philosophical character with so much
dignity, was extremely jealous of his personal liberty and indepen¬
dence, and could not brook the smallest appearance of neglect or in¬
sult, even from the highest personages ?
" But let us view him in some instances of more familiar life.
" His general mode of life, during my acquaintance, seemed to be
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; Hawkesworth, Goldsmith, Murphy, Langton,
Steevens, Beauclerk, &c., &c., and sometimes learned ladies; par¬
ticularly I remember a French lady1 of wit and fashion doing him
the honour of a visit. He seemjed 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
Ranelagh, 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.
" Though the most accessible and communicative man alive, yet
1 No doubt Madame de Boufflers. Spost, sub an. 1775.—Croker.
512
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1770.
when he suspected he was invited to be exhibited, he constantly
spurned the invitation.
" Two young women from Staffordshire visited him when I was
present, to consult him on the subject of Methodism, to which they
were inclined. ' Come,' said he, ' you pretty fools, dine with Max¬
well and me at the Mitre, and we will talk over that subject;' which
they did, and after dinner he took one of them upon his knee, and
fondled her for half an hour together.,
" Upon a visit to me at a country lodging near Twickenham, he
asked what sort of society I had there. I told him, but indifferent;
as they chiefly consisted of opulent traders, retired from business.
He said he never much liked that class of people; 'For, Sir,' said he,
' tbey have lost the civility of tradesmen, without acquiring the
manners of gentlemen.'
"Johnson was much attached to London : he observed, that a man
stored his mind better there, than any where else ; and that in remote
situations a man's body might be feasted, but his mind was starved,
and his faculties apt to degenerate, from want of exercise and com¬
petition. ' No place,' he said,' cured a man's vanity or arrogance, so
well as London; for no man was either great or good per se, but as
compared with others not so good or great, he was sure to find in the
metropolis many his equals, and some his superiors.' He observed,
that a man in London was in less danger of falling in love indiscreetly,
than any where else; for there the difficulty of deciding between the
conflicting pretensions of avast variety of objects, kept him safe. He
told me, that he had frequently been offered country preferment, if he
would consent to take orders; but he could not leave the improved
society of the capital, or consent to exchange the exhilarating joys and
splendid decorations of public life, for the obscurity, insipidity, and
uniformity of remote situations.
" Speaking of Mr. Harte,1 Canon of Windsor, and writer of ' The
History of Gustavus Adolphus,' he much commended him as a
scholar, and a man of the most companionable talents he had ever
known. He said, the defects in his History proceeded not from im¬
becility, but from foppery.
" He loved, he said, the old black-letter books; they were rich in
1 Walter Harte, born about 1707, A.M. of St. Mary's Hall in Oxford,
was tutor to Lord Chesterfield's natural son, Mr. Stanhope, and was, by
his Lordship's interest, made Canon of Windsor: he died in 1774. See
more of Harte, -post, March 30, 1781.—Croker.
JET, 6l. BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
513
matter, though their style was inelegant; wonderfully so, considering
how conversant the writers were with the best models of antiquity.
" Burton's ' Anatomy of Melancholy,' he said, was the only book
that ever took him out of bed two hours sooner than he wished to
rise.1
" He frequently exhorted me to set about writing a History of Ire¬
land ; and archly remarked, there had been some good Irish writers,
and that one Irishman might at least aspire to be equal to another.
He had great compassion for the miseries and distresses of the Irish
nation, particularly the Papists; and severely reprobated the bar¬
barous debilitating policy of the British government, which, he said,
was the most detestable mode of persecution. To a gentleman who
hinted such policy might be necessary to support the authority of the
English government, he replied by saying, ' Let the authority of the
English government perish, rather than be maintained by iniquity.
Better would it be to restrain the turbulence of the natives by the
authority of the sword, and to make them amenable to law and justice
by an effectual and vigorous police, than to grind them to powder by
all manner of disabilities and incapacities. Better,' said he, £ to hang
or drown people at once, than by an unrelenting persecution to beggar
and starve them.' The moderation and humanity of the present
times have, in some measure, justified the wisdom of his observations.
" Dr. Johnson was often accused of prejudices, nay, antipathy, with
regard to the natives of Scotland. Surely, so illiberal a prejudice
never entered his mind: and it is well known, many natives of that
respectable country possessed a large share in his esteem: nor were
any of them ever excluded from his good offices, as far as opportunity
permitted. True it is, he considered the Scotch, nationally, as a crafty,
designing people, eagerly attentive to their own interest, and too apt
to overlook the claims and pretensions of other people. ' While they
confine their benevolence, in a manner, exclusively to those of their
own country, they expect to share in the good offices of other people.
Now,' said Johnson, ' this principle is either right or wrong; if right,
we should do well to imitate such conduct; if wrong, we cannot too
much detest it.'
1 " Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy is the most amusing and instructive
medley of quotations and classical anecdotes I ever perused. If the reader
has patience to go through his volumes, he will be more improved for
literary conversation than by the perusal of any twenty other works with
which I am acquainted." Byron's Life and Works, vol. i., p. 144, London,
1832.—Wright.
L L
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1770.
" Being solicited to compose a funeral sermon for the daughter of
. tradesman, he naturally enquired into the character of the deceased;
.nd being told she was remarkable for her humility and condescension
o inferiors, he observed, that those were very laudable qualities, but
t might not be so easy to discover who the lady's inferiors were.
" Of a certain player1 he remarked, that his conversation usually
hreatened and announced more than it performed; that he fed you
nth a continual renovation of hope, to end in a constant succession
)f disappointment.
" When exasperated by contradiction, he was apt to treat his oppo-
lents with too much acrimony: as, ' Sir, you don't see your way
hrough that question:'—'Sir, you talk the language of ignorance.'
Dn my observing to him, that a certain gentleman had remained
:ilent the whole evening, in the midst of a very brilliant and learned
:ociety, ' Sir,' said he, ' the conversation overflowed, and drowned
iim.'
" His philosophy, though austere and solemn, was by no means
norose and cynical, and never blunted the laudable sensibilities of his
:haracter, or exempted him from the influence of the tender passions.
kVant of tenderness, he always alleged, was want of parts, and was
10 less a proof of stupidity than depravity.
"Speaking of Mr. Hanway, who published 'An Eight Days' Jour-
ley from London to Portsmouth,' 'Jonas,' said he, 'acquired some
•eputation by travelling abroad,2 but lost it all by travelling at home.'
" Of the passion of love he remarked, that its violence and ill
effects were much exaggerated; for who knows any real sufferings on
;hat head, more than from the exorbitancy of any other passion?
" He much commended ' Law's Serious Call,' which, he said, was
the finest piece of hortatory theology in any language. ' Law,' said
he, ' fell latterly into the reveries of Jacob Behmen, whom Law
alleged to have been somewhat in the same state with St. Paul, and
to have seen unutterable things. Were it even so,' said Johnson,
' Jacob would have resembled St. Paul still more, by not attempting
to utter them.'
" He observed, that the established clergy in general did not preach
plain enough; and that polished periods and glittering sentences flew
1 No doubt, Mr. Sheridan.— Croker.
2 He had published An Account of the British Trade over the Caspian
Sea, with Travels through Russia, Persia, Germany, and Holland. These
travels contain very curious details of the then state of Persia.—Croker.
JET. 6l,
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
515
over the heads of the common people without any impression upon
their hearts. Something might be necessary, he observed, to excite
the affections of the common people, who were sunk in languor and
lethargy, and therefore he supposed that the new concomitants of
Methodism might probably produce so desirable an effeet. The
mind, like the body, he observed, delighted in change and novelty,
and, even in religion itself, courted new appearances and modifica¬
tions. Whatever might be thought of some Methodist teachers, he
said he could scarcely doubt the sincerity of that man, who travelled
nine hundred miles in a month, and preached twelve times in a week;
for no adequate reward, merely temporal, could be given for such in¬
defatigable labour.
" Of Dr. Priestley's theological works, he remarked, that they tended
to unsettle every thing, and yet settled nothing.
" He was much affected by the death of his mother, and wrote to
me to come and assist him to compose his mind; which, indeed, I
found greatly agitated. He lamented that- all serious and religious
conversation was banished from the society of men, and yet great
advantages might be derived from it. All acknowledged, he said,
what hardly any body practised, the obligations we were under of
making the concerns of eternity the governing principles of our lives.
Every man, he observed, at last wishes for retreat: he sees his expec¬
tations frustrated in the world, and begins to wean himself from it,
and to prepare for everlasting separation.
" He observed, that the influence of London now extended every
where, and that from all manner of communication being opened,
there shortly would be no remains of the ancient simplicity, or places
of cheap retreat to be found.
" He was no admirer of blank verse, and said it always failed, un¬
less sustained by the dignity of the subject. In blank verse, he said,
the language suffered more distortion, to keep it out of prose, than
any inconvenience or limitation to be apprehended from the shackles
and circumspection of rhyme.
" He reproved me once for saying grace without mention of the
name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and hoped in future I would be more
mindful of the apostolical injunction.
" He refused to go out of a room before me at Mr. Langton's house,
saying he hoped he knew his rank better than to presume to take
place of a doctor in divinity. I mention such little anecdotes merely
to show the peculiar turn and habit of his mind.
" He used frequently to observe, that there was more to be endured
5i 6
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1770.
than enjoyed, in the general condition of human life; and frequently
quoted those lines of Dryden :—
' Strange cozenage ! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure from what still remain.'1
For his part, he said, he never passed that week in his life which he
would wish to repeat, were an angel to make the proposal to him.
" He was of opinion, that the English nation cultivated both their
soil and their reason better than any other people; but admitted that the
French, though not the highest, perhaps, in any department of litera¬
ture, yet in every department were very high. Intellectual pre-emi¬
nence, he observed, was the highest superiority; and that every nation
derived their highest reputation from the splendour and dignity of
their writers. Voltaire, he said, was a good narrator, and that his
principal merit consisted in a happy selection and arrangement of cir¬
cumstances.
" Speaking of the French novels, compared with Richardson's, he
said, they might be pretty baubles, but a wren was not an eagle.
" In a Latin conversation with the Pere Boscovich, at the house of
Mrs. Cholmondely, I heard him maintain the superiority of Sir Isaac
Newton over all foreign philosophers, with a dignity and eloquence
that surprised that learned foreigner. It being observed to him, that
a rage for every thing English prevailed much in France after Lord
Chatham's glorious war, he said, he did not wonder at it, for that we
had drubbed those fellows into a proper reverence for us, and that
their national petulance required periodical chastisement.
" Lord Lyttelton's Dialogues he deemed a nugatory performance.
' That man,' said he, ' sat down to write a book, to tell the world what
the world had all his life been telling him.'
" Somebody observing that the Scotch Highlanders, in the year
1745, had made surprising efforts, considering their numerous wants
and disadvantages ; 'Yes, Sir,' said he, 'their wants were numerous :
but you have not mentioned the greatest of them all—the want of
law.'
" Speaking of the inward light, to which some Methodists pre¬
tended, he said, it was a principle utterly incompatible with social or
civil security. ' If a man,' said he, ' pretends to a principle of action
of which I can know nothing, nay, not so much as that he has it, but
1 Aurengzebe, act iv. sc. 1. The reply of Nourmahul I never heard any¬
body mention except Dr. Johnson. Davies' Dram. Misc., vol. iii., p. 160.
—P. Cunningham.
JET. 61.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
517
only that he pretends to it; how can I tell what that person may be
prompted to do? When a person professes to be governed by a
written ascertained law, I can then know where to find him.'
" The poem of Fingal, he said, was a mere unconnected rhapsody,
a tiresome repetition of the same images. ' In vain shall we look for
the lucidus or do, where there is neither end nor object, design or
moral, nec certa recurrit i?nago.''
" Being asked by a young nobleman, what was become of the
gallantry and military spirit of the old English nobility, he replied,
' Why, my lord, I'll tell you what is become of it: it is gone into the
city to look for a fortune.'
" Speaking of a dull, tiresome fellow, whom he chanced to meet,
he said, ' That fellow seems to me to possess but one idea, and that
is a wrong one.'
" Much inquiry having been made concerning a gentleman, who
had quitted a company where Johnson was, and no information 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 patronised them, mere
mirrors of their own superiority. ' They had better,' said he,1 furnish
the man with good implements for his trade, than raise subscriptions
for his poems. He may make an excellent shoemaker, but can never
make a good poet. A schoolboy's exercise may be a pretty thing for
a schoolboy; but it is no treat for a man.'
" Speaking of Boethius, who was the favourite writer of the middle
ages, he said, it was very surprising that, upon such a subject, and in
such a situation, he should be magis philosophus quarn Christianus.
" Speaking of Arthur Murphy, whom he very much loved, ' I don't
know,' said he, ' that Arthur can be classed with the very first dra¬
matic writers: yet at present I doubt much whether we have any
thing superior to Arthur.'
" Speaking of the national debt, he said, 4 it was an idle dream to
suppose that the country could sink under it. Let the public creditors
be ever so clamorous, the interest of millions must ever prevail over
that of thousands.'
" Of Dr. Kennicott's Collations,1 he observed, that ' though the
Dr. Benjamin Kennicott, born in 1718, A.M., and Fellow of Exeter
5i8
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
177 o.
text should not be much mended thereby, yet it was no small advan¬
tage to know that we had as good a text as the most consummate
industry and diligence could procure.'
"Johnson observed, f that so many objections might be made to
every thing, that nothing could overcome them but the necessity of
doing something. No man would be of any profession, as simply
opposed to not being of it; but every one must do something.'
" He remarked, that a London parish was a very comfortless thing :
for the clergyman seldom knew the face of one out of ten of his
parishioners.
" Of the late Mr. Mallet he spoke with no great respect: said, he
was ready for any dirty job; that he had wrote against Byng at the
instigation of the ministry, and was equally ready to write for him, pro¬
vided he found his account in it.
" 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 con¬
versation could only be such as, whether the mutton should be boiled
or roasted, and probably a dispute 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.
" Of old Sheridan he remarked, that he neither wanted parts nor
literature; but that his vanity and Quixotism obscured his merits.
" He said, foppery was never cured; it was the bad stamina of the
mind, which, like those of the body, were never rectified : once a cox¬
comb, and always a coxcomb.
"Being told that Gilbert Cooper called him the Caliban of litera¬
ture. ' Well,' said he, ' I must dub him the Punchinello.'1
College, Oxford, in 1750, and D.D. in 1760,—having distinguished him¬
self by a learned dissertation on the state of the Hebrew text of the Old
Testament, was, about 1759, persuaded by Archbishop Seeker, and en¬
couraged by a large subscription, to undertake a collation of all the
Hebrew MSS. of the Old Testament. The first volume of his learned
labour was, however, not published till 1776 ; and the second, with a
general dissertation, completed the work in 1783. He was Radcliffe
Librarian, and canon of Christ Church ; in which cathedral he was buried
in 1783.—Croker.
1 John Gilbert Cooper, Esq., author of a good deal of prose and verse,
JET. 61.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
519
" Speaking of the old Earl of Cork and Orrery, he said, ' That man
spent his life in catching at an object (literary eminence), which he
had not power to grasp.'
" To find a substitution for violated morality, he said, was the lead¬
ing feature in all perversions of religion.
" He often used to quote, with great pathos, those fine lines of
Virgil:—
' Optima quaeque dies miseris mortalibus asvi
Prima fugit; subeunt morbi, tristisque senectus,
Et labor, et durae rapit inclementia mortis.'1
" Speaking of Homer, whom he venerated as the prince of poets,2
Johnson remarked that the advice given to Diomed3 by his father,
when he sent him to the Trojan war, was the noblest exhortation that
could be instanced in any heathen writer, and comprised in a single
line :—
Axiv apiartvuv Kai virtipoxov efifievai dWojv :
which if I recollect well, is translated by Dr. Clarke thus:—semper
appetere prcestantissima, et omnibus aliis antecellare.
11 He observed, ' it was a most mortifying reflection for any man to
consider, what he had done, compared with what he might have done!
" He said few people had intellectual resources sufficient to forego
the pleasures of wine. They could not otherwise contrive how to fill
the interval between dinner and supper.
" He went with me, one Sunday, to hear my old master, Gregory
Sharpe,4 preach at the Temple. In the prefatory prayer, Sharpe ranted
but best known as the author of a Life of Socrates, and a consequent dis¬
pute with Bishop Warburton. Cooper was in person short and squab ;
hence Johnson's allusion to Punch. He died in 1769.—Croker.
1 Georg. iii. 66.
2 Johnson's usual seal, at one time of his life, was a head of Homer, and
at another, a head of Augustus, as appears from the envelopes of his letters.
— Croker.
3 Dr. Maxwell's memory has deceived him. Glaucus is the person who
received this counsel; and Clarke's translation of the passage (II. vi.
208) is as follows :—" Ut semperfortissime rem gererem, et superior virtute
essem aliis."—J. Boswell,jun.
4 Gregory Sharpe, D.D., F.R.S. and F.A.S., born in 1713. He pub¬
lished some religious works, and several critical Essays on the Hebrew,
Greek, and Latin languages. Maxwell calls him his old master, because
Sharpe was Master of the Temple when Maxwell was assistant preacher.
He died in 1771.—Croker.
520
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
I770.
about liberty, as a blessing most fervently to be implored, and its con¬
tinuance prayed for. Johnson observed, that our liberty was in no
sort of danger :—he would have done much better to pray against our
licentiousness.
" One evening at Mrs. Montagu's, where a splendid company had
assembled, consisting of the most eminent literary characters, I thought
he seemed highly pleased with the respect and attention that were
shown him, and asked him, on our return home, if he was not highly
gratified by his visit. ' No, Sir,' said he, ' not highly gratified; yet I
do not recollect to have passed many evenings with fewer objections.'
" Though of no high extraction himself, he had much respect for
birth and family, especially among ladies. He said, 'adventitious
accomplishments may be possessed by all ranks; but one may easily
distinguish the bom gentlewoman.'
" He said, ' the poor in England were better provided for than in
any other country of the same extent: he did not mean little cantons,
or petty republics. Where a great proportion of the people,' said he,
' are suffered to languish in helpless misery, that country must be ill
policed, and wretchedly governed: a decent provision for the poor is
the true test of civilisation. Gentlemen of education,' he observed,
' were pretty much the same in all countries; the condition of the
lower orders, the poor especially, was the true mark of national dis¬
crimination.'
•" When the corn laws were in agitation in Ireland, by which that
country has been enabled not only to feed itself, but to export corn
to a large amount, Sir Thomas Robinson observed, that those laws
might be prejudicial to the corn-trade of England. 4 Sir Thomas,'
said he, 'you talk the language of a savage : what, Sir, would you pre¬
vent any people from feeding themselves, if by any honest means they
can do it ?'
" It being mentioned, that Garrick assisted Dr. Browne,1 the author
of the 'Estimate,' in some dramatic composition, 'No, Sir,' said
Johnson; ' he would no more suffer Garrick to write a line in his play,
than he would suffer him to mount his pulpit.'
1 Dr. John Browne, born in 1715 ; B.A. of St. John's, Cambridge, in
1735, and D.D. in 1755 ; besides his celebrated Estimate of the Manners
and Principles of the Times,—a work which, in one year, ran through
seven editions, and is now forgotten,—and several religious and miscel¬
laneous works, he was the author of two tragedies, Barbarossa and
Athelstan. He was a man of considerable, but irregular genius ; and died
insane, by his own hand, in 1766.—Croker.
^ET. 6I.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
521
" Speaking of Burke, he said, ' It was commonly observed he spoke
too often in parliament; but nobody could say he did not speak well,
though too frequently and too familiarly.'
" Speaking of economy, he remarked, it was hardly worth while to
save anxiously twenty a pounds a year. If a man could save to that
degree, so as to enable him to assume a different rank in society, then,
indeed, it might answer some purpose.
"He observed, a principal source of erroneous judgment was view¬
ing things partially and only on one side; as for instance, fortune -
hunters, when they contemplated the fortunes singly and separately, it
was a dazzling and tempting object; but when they came to possess
the wives and their fortunes together, they began to suspect they had
not made quite so good a bargain.
"Speaking of the late Duke of Northumberland1 living very mag¬
nificently when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, somebody remarked, it
would be difficult to find a suitable successor to him: ' Then,' ex¬
claimed, Johnson, ' he is only fit to succeed himself.'
" He advised me, if possible, to have a good orchard. He knew,
he said, a clergyman of small income, who brought up a family very
reputably, which he chiefly fed with apple dumplings.
" He said he had known several good scholars among the Irish
gentlemen ; but scarcely any of them correct in quantity. He ex¬
tended the same observation to Scotland.
" Speaking of a certain prelate,2 who exerted himself very laudably
1 Sir Hugh Smithson, who, by his marriage with the daughter of Alger¬
non, last Duke of Somerset, of that branch, became second Earl of Nor¬
thumberland of the new creation, was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from
1763 to 1765 ; he was created a duke in 1766. I suppose Johnson's phrase
was meant as an Hibcrnicism, imitated from Theobald's celebrated blunder,
in the tvspi (5u9ovq,
" N one but himself can be his parallel !"
which, however, Warton discovered to be itself borrowed from Seneca's
Hercules Furens—
" Queris Alcidse parem ?
Nemo, nise ipse." i. 84.
—Croker.
2 Probably Dr. Richard Robinson, Archbishop of Armagh and Primate
of Ireland from 1765 to 1795. He was created Lord Rokebyin 1777, with
remainder to the issue of his cousin, Matthew Robinson, of West Layton.
He built what is called Canterbury Gate, and the adjacent quadrangle, in
Christ Church, Oxford.—Croker.
522
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1770.
in building churches and parsonage houses; ' however,' said he,' I do
not find that he is esteemed a man of much professional learning, or
a liberal patron of it;—yet, it is well where a man possesses any strong
positive excellence. Few have all kinds of merit belonging to their
character. We must not examine matters too deeply. No, Sir, a
fallible being will fail somewhere.'
" Talking of the Irish clergy, he said, ' Swift was a man of great
parts, and the instrument of much good to his country. Berkeley was
a profound scholar, as well as a man of fine imagination ; but Usher,'
he said, ' was the great luminary of the Irish church : and a greater,'
he added, ' no church could boast of; at least in modern times.'
" We dined tete-a-tete at the Mitre, as I was preparing to return to
Ireland, after an absence of many years. I regretted much leaving
London, where I had formed many agreeable connections; ' Sir,' said
he, ' I don't wonder at it: no man, fond of letters, leaves London
without regret. But remember, Sir, you have seen and enjoyed a
great deal;—you have seen life in its highest decorations, and the
world has nothing new to exhibit. No man is so well qualified to
leave public life as he who has long tried it and known it well. We
are always hankering after untried situations, and imagining greater
felicity from them than they can afford. No, Sir, knowledge and
virtue may be acquired in all countries, and your local consequence
will make you some amends for the intellectual gratifications you re¬
linquish.' Then he quoted the following lines with great pathos :—
'"He who has early known the pomps of state,
(For things unknown 'tis ignorance to condemn ;)
And having view'd the gaudy bait,
Can boldly say, the trifle I contemn ;
With such a one contented could I live,
Contented could I die.'1
1 Being desirous to trace these verses to the fountain head, after having
in vain turned over several of our elder poets with the hope of lighting on
them, I applied to Dr. Maxwell, now resident at Bath, for the purpose of
ascertaining their author : but that gentleman could furnish no aid on this
occasion. At length the lines have been discovered by the author's second
son, Mr. James Boswell, in the London Magazine for July 1732, where
they form part of a poem on Retirement, there published anonymously, but
in fact (as he afterwards found) copied, with some slight variations, from
one of Walsh's smaller poems, entitled The Retirement; and they exhibit
another proof of what has been elsewhere obsei'ved by the author of the
work before us, that Johnson retained in his memory fragments of obscure
ALT. 6I.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
523
" He then took a most affecting leave of me; said, he knew it was
a point of duty that called me away.—' We shall all be sorry to lose
you,' said he: ' laudo tamen.' "
or neglected poetry. In quoting verses of that description, he appears by
a slight deviation to have sometimes given them a moral turn, and to have
dexterously adapted them to his own sentiments, where the original had a
very different tendency. Thus, in the present instance (as Mr. J. Boswell
observes to me), " the author of the poem above mentioned exhibits him¬
self as having retired to the country, to avoid the vain follies of a town
life,—ambition, avarice, and the pursuit of pleasure, contrasted with the
enjoyments of the country, and the delightful conversations that the brooks,
&c. furnish ; which he holds to be infinitely more pleasing and instructive
than any which towns afford. He is then led to consider the weakness of
the human mind, and, after lamenting that he (the writer,) who is neither
enslaved by avarice, ambition, or pleasure, has yet made himself a slave
to love, he thus proceeds :—
"' If this dire passion never will be gone,
If beauty always must my heart enthral,
O, rather let me be confined by one,
Than madly thus become a slave to all :
"' One who has early known the pomp of state
(For things unknown 'tis ignorance to condemn),
A nd after having viewed the gaudy bait,
Can coldly say, the trifle I contemn;
"' In her blest arms contented could I live,
Contented could I die. But O, my mind,
Imaginary scenes of bliss deceive
With hopes of joys impossible to find.'"
Another instance of Johnson's retaining in his memory verses by obscure
authors is given post, Aug. 27, 1773.
In the autumn of 1782, when he was at Brighthelmstone, he frequently
accompanied Mr. Philip Metcalfe in his chaise, to take the air; and the
conversation in one of their excursions happening to turn on a celebrated
historian, [no doubt Gibbon], since deceased, he repeated, with great pre¬
cision, some verses, as very characteristic of that gentleman. These
furnish another proof of what has been above observed ; for they are found
in a very obscure quarter, among some anonymous poems appended to
the second volume of a collection frequently printed by Lintot, under the
title of Pope's Miscellanies :—
" See how the wand'ring Danube flows,
Realms and religions parting ;
A friend to all true christian foes,
To Peter, Jack, and Martin.
524 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1771.
In 1771 he published another political pamphlet, entitled
"Thoughts on the late Transactions respecting Falkland's
Islands," in which, upon materials furnished to him by the
ministry, and upon general topics, expanded in his rich style,
he successfully endeavoured to persuade the nation that it was
wise and laudable to suffer the question of right to remain un¬
decided, rather than involve our country in another war. It
has been suggested by some, with what truth I shall not take
upon me to decide, that he rated the consequence of those
islands to Great Britain too low. But however this may be,
every humane mind must surely applaud the earnestness with
which he averted the calamity of war : a calamity so dreadful,
that it is astonishing how civilised, nay, Christian nations, can
deliberately continue to renew it. His description of its mise¬
ries, in this pamphlet, is one of the finest pieces of eloquence in
the English language. Upon this occasion, too, we find John¬
son lashing the party in opposition with unbounded severity,
and making the fullest use of what he ever reckoned a most
effectual argumentative instrument,—contempt. His character
of their very able mysterious champion, Junius, is executed
with all the force of his genius, and finished with the highest
care. He seems to have exulted in sallying forth to single
combat against the boasted and formidable hero, who bade
defiance to " principalities and powers, and the rulers of this
world."
This pamphlet, it is observable, was softened in one parti¬
cular, after the first edition; for the conclusion of Mr. George
" Now Protestant, and Papist now,
Not constant long to either,
At length an infidel does grow,
And ends his journey neither.
" Thus many a youth I've known set out,
• Half Protestant, half Papist,
And rambling long the world about,
Turn infidel or atheist."
In reciting these verses, I have no doubt that Johnson substituted some
word for infidel [perhaps Mussulman\ in the second stanza, to avoid the
disagreeable repetition of the same expression.—Malone.
JET. 62.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
525
Grenville's character stood thus : " Let him not, however, be
depreciated in his grave. He had powers not universally pos¬
sessed : could he have enforced payment of the Manilla ransom,
he could have counted it." Which, instead of retaining its sly
sharp point, was reduced to a mere flat unmeaning expression,
or, if I may use the word,—truism : " He had powers not uni¬
versally possessed : and if he sometimes erred, he was likewise
sometimes right" 1
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.2
" March 20, 1771.
" Dear Sir,
" After much lingering of my own, and much of the ministry,
I have, at length, got out my paper. But delay is not yet at an end.
Not many had been dispersed, before Lord North ordered the sale to
stop. His reasons I do not distinctly know. You may try to find
them in the perusal.3 Before his order, a sufficient number were dis¬
persed to do all the mischief, though, perhaps, not to make all the
sport that might be expected from it.
" Soon after your departure, I had the pleasure of finding all the
danger past with which your navigation was threatened.4 I hope
nothing happens at home to abate your satisfaction ; but that Lady
Rothes,5 and Mrs. Langton and the young ladies, are all well.
" I was last night at the Club. Dr. Percy has written a long ballad
in many jits ; it is pretty enough. He has printed, and will soon pub¬
lish it. Goldsmith is at Bath with Lord Clare.7 At Mr. Thrale's,
1 P. 68, Lond. 1771.
2 This letter appeared for the first time in the Third Edition, ii., 130.—
Editor.
3 By comparing the first with the subsequent editions, this curious cir¬
cumstance of ministerial authorship may be discovered.—Note in the
Third Edition, ii., 131.—Editor.
4 Probably a canal, in which Mr. Langton was, and his family is, I be¬
lieve, still interested. What the danger was is not now recollected.—
Croker.
5 Mr. Langton married May 24,1770, Jane Lloyd, widow of John, eighth
Earl of Rothes, who died in 1767.—Malone.
6 The Hermit of Warkworth; London, 1771, 4to.—P. Cunningham.
7 Robert Nugent, an Irish gentleman, who married the sister and heiress
of Secretary Craggs. He was created, in 1767, Baron Nugent and Vis-
526
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1771.
where I am now writing, all are well. I am, dear Sir, your most
humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Mr. Strahan, the printer, who had been long in intimacy
with Johnson, in the course of his literary labours, who was at
once his friendly agent in receiving his pension for him, and his
banker in supplying him with money when he wanted it; who
was himself now a member of parliament, and who loved much
to be employed in political negotiation ; thought he should do
eminent service, both to government and Johnson, if he could
be the means of his getting a seat in the House of Commons.
With this view, he wrote a letter to one of the Secretaries of
the Treasury,1 of which he gave me a copy in his own hand¬
writing, which is as follows: —
MR. STRAHAN TO .
" New Street, March 30, 1771.
" Sir,
" You will easily recollect, when I had the honour of waiting
upon you some time ago, I took the liberty to observe to you, that
Dr. Johnson would make an excellent figure in the House of Com¬
mons, and heartily wished he had a seat there. My reasons are briefly
these:—
" I know his perfect good affection to his Majesty and his govern¬
ment, which I am certain he wishes to support by every means in his
power.
" He possesses a great share of manly, nervous, and ready eloquence;
is quick in discerning the strength and weakness of an argument; can
cdunt Clare, and in 1777, Earl Nugent. His only daughter married the
first Marquis of Buckingham, on whose second son the title of Baron
Nugent devolved. Lord Nugent wrote some odes and light pieces, which
had some merit and a great vogue. He died in 1788. Goldsmith ad¬
dressed to him his lively verses called The Haunch of Venison. The
characters exhibited in this piece are very comic, and were no doubt drawn
from nature ; but Goldsmith ought to have confessed that he had borrowed
the idea and some of the details from Boileau.- -Croker.
1 The Secretaries of the Treasury, at this time, were Sir Grey Cooper
and James West, Esq.—Croker.
^ET. 62.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
527
express himself with clearness and precision, and fears the face of no
man alive.
" His known character, as a man of extraordinary sense and unim-
peached virtue, would secure him the attention of the House, and
could not fail to give him a proper weight there.
" He is capable of the greatest application, and can undergo any
degree of labour, where he sees it necessary, and where his heart and
affections are strongly engaged. His Majesty's ministers might there¬
fore securely depend on his doing, upon every proper occasion, the
utmost that could be expected from him. They would find him
ready to vindicate such measures as tended to promote the stability
of government, and resolute and steady in carrying them into execu¬
tion. Nor is anything to be apprehended from the supposed im¬
petuosity of his temper. To the friends of the king you will find him
a lamb, to his enemies a lion.
" For these reasons I humbly apprehend that he would be a very
able and useful member. And I will venture to say, the employment
would not be disagreeable to him ; and knowing, as I do, his strong
affection to the king, his ability to serve him in that capacity, and the
extreme ardour with which I am convinced he would engage in that
service, I must repeat, that I wish most heartily to see him in the
House.
" If you think this worthy of attention, you will be pleased to take
a convenient opportunity of mentioning it to Lord North. If his
lordship should happily approve of it, I shall have the satisfaction of
having been, in some degree, the humble instrument of doing my
country, in my opinion, a very essential service. I know your good¬
nature, and your zeal for the public welfare, will plead my excuse for
giving you this trouble. I am, with the greatest respect, Sir, your
most obedient and humble servant, " William Strahan."
This recommendation, we know, was not effectual ; but how,
or for what reason, can only be conjectured.1 It is not to be
1 Hawkins tells us (Life of Johnson, pp. 512-13) that Mr. Thrale made
a like attempt. " Mr. Thrale, a man of slow conceptions, but of a sound
judgment, entertained a design ofbringing Johnson into parliament. We
must suppose that he had previously determined to furnish him with a
legal qualification, and Johnson, it is certain, was willing to accept the trust.
Mr. Thrale had two meetings with the minister, who, at first, seemed in¬
clined to find him a seat; but, whether upon conversation he doubted his
fitness for his purpose, or that he thought himself in no need of his assis-
528
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1771.
believed that Mr. Strahan would have applied, unless Johnson
had approved of it. I never heard him mention the subject ;
but at a later period of his life, when Sir Joshua Reynolds told
him that Mr. Edmund Burke had said, that if he had come
early into parliament, he certainly would have been the greatest
speaker that ever was there, Johnson exclaimed, "I should
like to try my hand now."
It has been much agitated among his friends and others,
whether he would have been a powerful speaker in parliament,
had he been brought in when advanced in life. I am inclined
to think that his extensive knowledge, his quickness and force
of mind, his vivacity and richness of expression, his wit and
humour, and above all, his poignancy of sarcasm, would have
had a great effect in a popular assembly ; and that the magni¬
tude of his figure, and striking peculiarity of his manner, would
have aided the effect. But I remember it was observed by Mr.
Flood, that Johnson, having been long used to sententious
brevity, and the short flights of conversation, might have failed
in that continued and expanded kind of argument, which is
requisite in stating complicated matters in public speaking;
and, as a proof of this, he mentioned the supposed speeches in
parliament written by him for the magazine, none of which, in
his opinion, were at all like real debates. The opinion of one
who was himself so eminent an orator, must be allowed to have
great weight. It was confirmed by Sir William Scott [Lord
Stowell], who mentioned, that Johnson had told him that he
had several times tried to speak in the Society of Arts and
tance, the project failed. Johnson was a little soured at this disappoint¬
ment : he spoke of Lord N orth in terms of severity."
Lord Stowell told me, that it was understood amongst J ohnson's friends
that " Lord North was afraid that Johnson's help (as he himself said of
Lord Chesterfield's) might have been sometimes embarrassing." " He
perhaps thought, and not unreasonably," added Lord Stowell, " that, like
the elephant in the battle, he was quite as likely to trample down his
friends as his foes." This, and perhaps some dissatisfaction with Lord
North, concerning the Falkland Islands pamphlet, may, as Hawkins sug¬
gests, have given Johnson that dislike that he certainly felt towards Lord
N orth.—Croker.
,ET. 62.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
529
Sciences, but " had found he could not get on." 1 From Mr.
William Gerard Hamilton I have heard, that Johnson, when
observing to him that it was prudent for a man who had not
been accustomed to speak in public, to begin his speech in as
simple a manner as possible, acknowledged that he rose in that
society to deliver a speech which he had prepared ; " but," said
he, " all my flowers of oratory forsook me." I however cannot
help wishing, that he had" tried his hand "in Parliament; and
I wonder that ministry did not make the experiment.
I at length renewed a correspondence which had been too
long discontinued :—
TO DR. JOHNSON.
"Edinburgh, April 18, 1771.
" My dear Sir,
" I can now fully understand those intervals of silence in your
correspondence with me, which have often given me anxiety and un¬
easiness ; for although I am conscious that my veneration and love
for Mr. Johnson have never in the least abated, yet I have deferred
for almost a year and a half to write to him."
In the subsequent part of this letter, I gave him an account
of my comfortable life as a married man 2 and a lawyer in prac-
1 Dr. Kippis, however, (Biog. Brit., art. J. Gilbert Cooper, p. 266, n., new
edit.) says, that he " once heard Dr. Johnson speak in the Society of Arts
and Manufactures, upon a subject relative to mechanics, with a propriety,
perspicuity, and energy, which excited general admiration."—Malone.
1 cannot give credit to Dr. Kippis's account against Johnson's own
statement, vouched by Lord Stowell and Mr. Hamilton ; but even if we
could, one speech in the Society of Arts was no test of what Johnson might
have been able to do in parliament; and it may be suspected that, at the
age of sixty-two, he, with all his talents, would have failed to acquire that
peculiar tact and dexterity, without which even great abilities do not suc¬
ceed in that very fastidious assembly.—Croker.
2 Mr. Boswell had married, in November, 1769, Miss Margaret Mont-
gomerie, of the family of the Montgomeries of Lainshawe, who were
baronets, and claimed the peerage of Lyle. Dr. Johnson says of this lady
to Mrs. Thrale, in a letter from Auchinleck, August 23, 1773 :—" Mrs. B.
has the mien and manner of a gentlewoman, and such a person and mind
M M
530
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1771.
tice at the Scotch bar; invited him to Scotland, and promised
to attend him to the Highlands and Hebrides.
TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" London, June 20, 1771.
" Dear Sir,
" If you are now able to comprehend that I might neglect to
write without diminution of affection, you have taught me, likewise,
how that neglect may be uneasily felt without resentment. I wished
for your letter a long time, and when it came, it amply recompensed
the delay. I never was so much pleased as now with your account
of yourself; and sincerely hope, that between public business, im¬
proving studies, and domestic pleasures, neither melancholy nor
caprice will find any place for entrance. Whatever philosophy may
determine of material nature, it is certainly true of intellectual nature,
that it abhors a vacuum: our minds cannot be empty; and evil will
break in upon them, if they are not pre-occupied by good. My dear
Sir, mind your studies, mind your business, make your lady happy,
and be a good Christian. After this,
' iristitiam et metus
' Trades protervis in mare Creticum
1 Portare vent is.'1
"If we perform our duty, we shall be safe and steady, ' Sive per,'
&c. whether we climb the Highlands, or are tossed among the Heb¬
rides ; and I hope the time may come when we may try our powers
both with cliffs and water. I see but little of Lord Elibank,2 I know
not why; perhaps by my own fault. I am this day going into Stafford¬
shire and Derbyshire for six weeks. I am, dear Sir, your most affec¬
tionate and most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
as would not in any place either be admired or condemned. She is in a
proper degree inferior to her husband : she cannot rival him, nor can he
ever be ashamed of her."—Croker.
1 Hor. Od. i. 26, 1.
2 Patrick Murray, fifth Lord Elibank. He had been in the army, and
served as a colonel in the expedition against Carthagena in 1740. He was
a man of wit and talents, and wrote some tracts relative to the statistics
and history of Scotland. He died in 1778, aet. 75.—Croker.
4£T. 62.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
531
TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
In Leicester Fields.
" Ashbourne, July 17, 1771.
" Dear Sir,
" When I came to Lichfield, I found that my portrait1 had
been much visited, and much admired. Every man has a lurking
wish to appear considerable in his native place; and I was pleased
with the dignity conferred by such a testimony of your regard.
" Be pleased, therefore to accept the thanks of, Sir, your most
obliged, and most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
" Compliments to Miss Reynolds."
TO DR. JOHNSON.
" Edinburgh, July 27, 177 r.
" My dear Sir,
" The bearer of this, Mr. Beattie, professor of moral philosophy
at Aberdeen, is desirous of being introduced to your acquaintance.
His genius and learning, and labours in the service of virtue and
religion, render him very worthy of it; and as he has a high esteem
of your character, I hope you will give him a favourable reception.
I ever am, &c., "James Boswell."
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.2
At Langton, near Spilsby, Lincolnshire.
" August 29, 1771.
" Dear Sir,
" I am lately returned from Staffordshire and Derbyshire. The
last letter mentions two others which you have written to me since
you received my pamphlet. Of these two I never had but one, in
which you mentioned a design of visiting Scotland, and, in consequence,
put my journey to Langton out of my thoughts. My summer wan-
1 The second portrait of Johnson, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds ; with
his arms raised and his hands bent. It was at this time, it is believed, in
the possession of Miss Lucy Porter.—Malone.
It is now the property of the Duke of Sutherland.—Croker.
2 First published in the Third Edition, i., 137-8.—Editor.
532
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1771.
derings are now over, and I am engaging in a very great work, the
revision of my Dictionary; from which I know not, at present, how
to get loose. If you have observed, or been told, any errors or omis¬
sions, you will do me a great favour by letting me know them.
" Lady Rothes, I find, has disappointed you and herself. Ladies
will have these tricks. The Queen and Mrs. Thrale, both ladies of
experience, yet both missed their reckoning this summer. I hope, a
few months will recompense your uneasiness.
" Please to tell Lady Rothes how highly I value the honour of her
invitation, which it is my purpose to obey as soon as I have disen¬
gaged myself. In the mean time I shall hope to hear often of her
ladyship, and every day better news and better, till I hear that you
have both the happiness, which to both is very sincerely wished, by,
Sir, your most affectionate and most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
In October I again wrote to him, thanking him for his last
letter, and his obliging reception of Mr. Beattie ; informing
him that I had been at Alnwick lately, and had good accounts
of him from Dr. Percy.
In his religious record of this year we observe that he was
better than usual, both in body and mind, and better satisfied
with the regularity of his conduct. But he is still " trying his
ways " too rigorously. He charges himself with not rising
early enough; yet he mentions what was surely a sufficient
excuse for this, supposing it to be a duty seriously required, as
he all his life appears to have thought it:—" One great hin¬
drance is want of rest; my nocturnal complaints grow less
troublesome towards morning; and I am tempted to repair
the deficiencies of the night."1 Alas ! how hard would
it be, if this indulgence were to be imputed to a sick
man as a crime. In his retrospect on the following Easter-
eve, he says, " When I review the last year, I am able to recol¬
lect so little done, that shame and sorrow, though perhaps
too weakly, come upon me."2 Had he been judging of
any one else in the same circumstances, how clear would he
have been on the favourable side. How very difficult, and in
1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 104.
2 Ibid., p. log.
JET. 63.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
533
my opinion almost constitutionally impossible, it was for him
to be raised early, even by the strongest resolutions, appears
from a note in one of his little paper-books (containing words
arranged for his " Dictionary"), written, I suppose, about
1 /53 :—"I do not remember that, since I left Oxford, I ever
rose early by mere choice, but once or twice at Edial, and two
or three times for the ' Rambler.' " I think he had fair ground
enough to have quieted his mind on the subject, by concluding
that he was physically incapable of what is at best but a com¬
modious regulation.
In 1772 he was altogether quiescent as an author; but it
will be found, from the various evidences which I shall bring
together, that his mind was acute, lively, and vigorous.
TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
" Feb. 27, 1772.
" Dear Sir,
" Be pleased to send to Mr. Banks, whose place of residence
I do not know, this note, which I have sent open, that, if you please,
you may read it. When you send it, do not use your own seal. I
am, Sir, your most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
TO JOSEPH BANKS, ESQ.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, Feb. 27, 1772.
" Perpetua ambita bis terra praemia lactis
Hasc habet altrici Capra secunda Jovis." 1
" Sir,
" I return thanks to you and to Dr. Solander, for the pleasure
which I received in yesterday's conversation. I could not recollect a
motto for your Goat, but have given her one. You, Sir, may perhaps
have an epic poem from some happier pen than, Sir, your most
humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
1 Thus translated by a friend :—
" In fame scarce second to the nurse of Jove,
This Goat, who twice the world had traversed round,
Deserving both her master's care and love,
Ease and perpetual pasture now has found."
534
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
1772.
TO DR. JOHNSON.
" My dear Sir,
" It is hard that I cannot prevail on you to write to me oftener.
But I am convinced that it is in vain to expect from you a private
correspondence with any regularity. I must, therefore, look upon you
as a fountain of wisdom, from whence few rills are communicated to
a distance, and which must be approached at its source, to partake
fully of its virtues.
******
" I am coming to London soon, and am to appear in an appeal
from the Court of Session in the House of Lords. A schoolmaster in
Scotland was, by a court of inferior jurisdiction, deprived of his office,
for being somewhat severe in the chastisement of his scholars. The
Court of Session, considering it to be dangerous to the interest of
learning and education, to lessen the dignity of teachers, and make
them afraid of too indulgent parents, instigated by the complaints of
their children, restored him. His enemies have appealed to the House
of Lords, though the salary is only twenty pounds a year. I was
counsel for him here. I hope there will be little fear of a reversal;
but I must beg to have your aid in my plan of supporting the decree.
It is a general question, and not a point of particular law. * * * *
I am, &c., "James Boswell."
TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" March 15, 1772.
"Dear Sir,
" That you are coming so soon to town I am very glad; and
still more glad that you are coming as an advocate. I think nothing
more likely to make your life pass happily away, than that conscious¬
ness of your own value, which eminence in your profession will cer¬
tainly confer. If I can give you any collateral help, I hope you do
not suspect that it will be wanting. My kindness for you has neither
the merit of singular virtue, nor the reproach of singular prejudice.
Whether to love you be right or wrong, I have many on my side : Mrs.
Thrale loves you, and Mrs. Williams loves you, and, what would have
inclined me to love you, if I had been neutral before, you are a great
favourite of Dr. Beattie.
" Of Dr. Beattie I should have thought much, but that his lady
puts him out of my head; she is a very lovely woman.
JET. 63.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
535
"The ejection which you come hither to oppose, appears very
cruel, unreasonable, and oppressive. I should think there could not
be much doubt of your success.
" My health grows better, yet I am not fully recovered. I believe
it is held, that men do not recover very fast after threescore. I hope
yet to see Beattie's college: and have not given up the western voyage.
But however all this may be or not, let us try to make each other
happy when we meet, and not refer our pleasure to distant times or
distant places.
" How comes it that you tell me nothing of your lady ? I hope to
see her some time, and till then shall be glad to hear of her. I am,
dear Sir, &c., " Sam. Johnson."
TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.
At Langton, near Spilsby, Lincolnshire.
"March 14, 1772.
" Dear Sir,
"I congratulate you and Lady Rothes1 on your little man,
and hope you will all be many years happy together. Poor Miss
Langton can have little part in the joy of her family. She this day
called her aunt Langton to receive the sacrament with her; and made
me talk yesterday on such subjects as suit her condition. It will
probably be her viaticum. I surely need not mention again that she
wishes to see her mother. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
1 Mr. Langton married the Countess Dowager of Rothes.
APPENDIX.
THE Annals here reprinted form part of a small, but exceedingly scarce
volume, published 1805, entitled : An Account of the Life of Dr.
Samuel Johnson, from his Birth to his Eleventh Year, written by Himself.
To which are added, Original Letters to Dr. Samuel Johnson, by Miss
Hill Boothby : From the MSS. preserved by the Doctor ; and now in
Possession of Richard Wright, Surgeon ; Proprietor of the Museum of
Antiquities, Natural and Artificial Curiosities, &c., Lichfield. Mr. Richard
Wright, the editor of it, was the purchaser of what remained of Green's
Museum at its final dispersion : see vol. ii., p. 280 (note). This little
volume consists of two distinct parts : the Annals here reproduced,
and a series of letters addressed by Miss Hill Boothby to Johnson, and
by J ohnson to this lady, which will be found in the volume entitled J ohn-
soniana.
MR. WRIGHT'S PREFACE.
It will be expected, that the Editor of the following curious and
interesting pages should give an account of the manner in which the
original MSS. came into his possession.
Mr. Boswell, in his admirable Life of Dr. Johnson, thus observes:1
" The consideration of the numerous papers of which he was pos¬
sessed seems to have struck Johnson's mind with a sudden anxiety;
and, as they were in great confusion, it is much to be lamented that
he had not intrusted some faithful and discreet person with the care
and selection of them; instead of which, he, in a precipitate manner,
burnt masses of them, as I should apprehend, with little regard to
discrimination Two very valuable articles, I am sure, we have
lost; which were two quarto volumes, containing a full, fair, and
most particular account of his own life, from his earliest recollec¬
tion."
1 Vol. ii., p. 573, 4to edition. 1791.
538
APPENDIX.
It does not appear, that the MS. from which the following short
account of Dr. Johnson's early life is copied, was one of the two
volumes to which Boswell alludes; although it is evident, from his
enumeration of particular dates in the blank pages of the book, that
he intended to have finished these Annals, according to this plan,
with the same minuteness of description, in every circumstance and
event.
This Volume was among that mass of papers which were ordered
to be committed to the flames a few days before his death, thirty-two
pages of which were torn out by himself, and destroyed; the contents
of those which remain are here given with fidelity and exactness.
Francis Barber, his black servant, unwilling that all the MSS. of his
illustrious master should be utterly lost, preserved these relicks from
the flames. By purchase from Barber's widow they came into the
possession of the Editor.
ANNALS.
i. 1709-10.
Sept. 7,1 1709, I was born at Lichfield. My mother had a very
difficult and dangerous labour, and was assisted by George Hector, a
man-midwife of great reputation. I was born almost dead, and could
not cry for some time. When he had me in his arms, he said, " Here
is a brave boy."2
In a few weeks an inflammation was discovered on my buttock,
which was at first, I think, taken for a burn; but soon appeared to be
a natural disorder. It swelled, broke, and healed.
My Father being that year Sheriff of Lichfield, and to ride the
circuit of the County next day, which was a ceremony then performed
with great pomp; he was asked by my mother, " Whom he would
invite to the Riding?" and answered, "All the town now." He feasted
the citizens with uncommon magnificence, and was the last but one
that maintained the splendour of the Riding.
I was, by my father's persuasion, put to one Marclew, commonly
called Bellison,3 the servant, or wife of a servant of my father, to be
1 18, of the present stile.—Orig.
a This was written in January, 1765.—R. Wright.
3 The name of Marklew, alias Bellison, is yet common in Lichfield,
and is usually so distinguished.—R. Wright.
APPENDIX.
539
nursed in George Lane, where I used to call when I was a bigger
boy, and eat fruit in the garden, which was full of trees. Here it was
discovered that my eyes were badand an issue was cut in my left
arm,1 of which I took no great notice, as I think my mother has told
me, having my little hand in a custard.
It is observable, that, having been told of this operation, I always
imagined that I remembered it, but I laid the scene in the wrong
house. Such confusions of memory I suspect to be common.
My mother visited me every day, and used to go different ways,
that her assiduity might not expose her to ridicule; and often left her
fan or glove behind her, that she might have a pretence to come back
unexpected; but she never discovered any token of neglect. Dr.
Swinfen told me, that the scrofulous sores which afflicted me pro¬
ceeded from the bad humours of the nurse, whose son had the same
distemper, and was likewise short-sighted, but both in a less degree.
My mother thought my diseases derived from her family.
In ten weeks I was taken home, a poor, diseased infant, almost
blind.
I remember my aunt Nath. Ford told me, when I was about . . .
years old, that she would not have picked such a poor creature up in
the street.
In ... 67, when I was at Lichfield, I went to look for my nurse's
house; and, inquiring somewhat obscurely, was told "this is the house
in which you were nursed." I saw my nurse's son, to whose milk I
succeeded, reading a large Bible, which my nurse had bought, as I
was then told, some time before her death.
Dr. Swinfen used to say, that he never knew any child reared with
so much difficulty.
2. 1710-11.
In the second year I knew not what happened to me. I believe it
was then that my mother carried me to Trysul,2 to consult Dr.
Atwood, an oculist of Worcester. My father and Mrs. Harriots, I
think, never had much kindness for each other. She was my
mother's relation; and he had none so high to whom he could send
any of his family. He saw her seldom himself, and willingly dis¬
gusted her, by sending his horses from home on Sunday; which she
1 How long this issue was continued I do not remember. I believe it
was suffered to dry when I was about six years old.— Orig.
2 Near Wolverhampton.—R. Wright.
540
APPENDIX.
considered, and with reason, as a breach of duty. My father had
much vanity, which his adversity hindered from being fully exerted.
I remember, that, mentioning her legacy in the humility of distress,
he called her our good Cousin Harriots. My mother had no value for
his relations; those indeed whom we knew of were much lower than
hers. This contempt began, I know not on which side, very early:
but, as my father was little at home, it had not much effect.
My father and mother had not much happiness from each other.
They seldom conversed; for my father could not bear to talk of his
affairs; and my mother, being unacquainted with books, cared not to
talk of anything else. Had my mother been more literate, they had
been better companions. She might have sometimes introduced her
unwelcome topick with more success, if she could have diversified
her conversation. Of business she had no distinct conception; and
therefore her discourse was composed only of complaint, fear, and
suspicion. Neither of them ever tried to calculate the profits of
trade, or the expenses of living. My mother concluded that we were
poor, because we lost by some of our trade; but the truth was, that
my father, having in the early, part of his life contracted debts, never
had trade sufficient to enable him to pay them, and maintain his
family; he got something, but not enough.
It was not till about 1768, that I thought to calculate the returns
of my father's trade, and by that estimate his probable profits. This,
I believe, my parents never did.
3. 1711-12.
This year, in Lent — 12, I was taken to London, to be touched
for the evil by Queen Anne. My mother was at Nicholson's, the
famous bookseller, in Little Britain.1 I always retained some memory
of this journey, though I was then but thirty months old. I
remembered a little dark room behind the kitchen, where the jack-
weight fell through a hole in the floor, into which I once slipped my
leg.2
1 My mother, then with child, concealed her pregnancy, that she might
not be hindered from the journey.—Orig.
3 I seem to remember, that I played with a string and a bell, which my
cousin Isaac Johnson gave me; and that there was a cat with a white
collar, and a dog, called Chops, that leaped over a stick : but I know not
whether I remember the thing, or the talk of it.—Orig.
APPENDIX.
541
I remember a boy crying at the palace when I went to be touched.
Being asked " on which side of the shop was the counter ?" I
answered, "on the left from the entrance," many years after, and
spoke, not by guess, but by memory. We went in the stage-coach,
and returned in the waggon, as my mother said, because my cough
was violent. The hope of saving a few shillings was no slight motive;
for she, not having been accustomed to money, was afraid of such
expenses as now seem very small. She sewed two guineas in her
petticoat, lest she should be robbed.
We were troublesome to the passengers; but to suffer such incon¬
veniences in the stage-coach was common in these days to persons in
much higher rank.1 She bought me a small silver cup and spoon,
marked SAM. I. lest if they had been marked S. I. which was her
name, they should, upon her death, have been taken from me. She
bought me a speckled linen frock, which I knew afterwards by the
name of my London frock. The cup was one of the last pieces of
plate which dear Tetty sold in our distress. I have now the spoon.
She bought at the same time two teaspoons, and till my manhood she
had no more.
My father considered tea as very expensive, and discouraged my
mother from keeping company with the neighbours, and from paying
visits or receiving them. She lived to say, many years after, that, if
the time were to pass again, she would not comply with such unsocial
injunctions.
I suppose that in this year I was first informed of a future state. I
remember, that being in bed with my mother one morning, 1 was told
by her of the two places to which the inhabitants of this world were
received after death; one a fine place filled with happiness, called
Heaven ; the other a sad place, called Hell. That this account
much affected my imagination, I do not remember. When I was
risen, my mother bade me repeat what she had told me to Thomas
Jackson. When I told this afterwards to my mother, she seemed to
wonder that she should begin such talk so late as that the first time
could be remembered.
\Here there is a chasm of thirty-eight pages in the manuscript.]
" examination. We always considered it as a day of ease;
for we made no preparation, and indeed were asked commonly such
questions as we had been asked often before, and could regularly
answer. But I believe it was of use at first.
1 I was sick ; one woman fondled me, the other was disgusted.—Orig.
542
APPENDIX.
On Thursday night a small portion of ^Esop was learned by heart,
and on Friday morning the lessons in ^sop were repeated; I believe,
not those in Helvicus. On Friday afternoon we learned Quce Genus;
I suppose that other boys might say their repetition, but of this I
have now no distinct remembrance. To learn Quce. Genus was to
me always pleasing ; and As in Prczsenti was, I know not why, always
disgusting.
When we learned our Accidence we had no parts, but, I think, two
lessons. The boys that came to school untaught read the Accidence
twice through before they learned it by heart.
When we learned Propria quce. Maribus, our parts were in the
Accidence; when we learned As in Prcesenti, our parts were in the
Accidence and Propria quce. Maribus ; when we learned Syntaxis, in
the former three. Propria quce Maribus I could repeat without any
effort of recollection. I used to repeat it to my mother and Tom
Johnson; and remember, that I once went as far as the middle of the
paragraph, " Mascula dicuntur monosyllaba," in a dream.
On Saturday, as on Thursday, we were examined. We were some¬
times, on one of those days, asked our Catechism,1 but with no regu¬
larity or constancy.
The progress of examination was this. When we learned Propria
quce. Maribus, we were examined in the Accidence; particularly we
formed Verbs, that is, went through the same person in all the Moods
and Tenses. This was very difficult to me; and I was once very
anxious about the next day, when this exercise was to be performed,
in which I had failed till I was discouraged. My mother encouraged
me, and I proceeded better. When I told her of my good escape,
" We often," said she, dear mother! " come off best, when we are
most afraid." She told me, that, once when she asked me about
forming verbs, I said, "I did not form them in an ugly shape."
" You could not," said she, " speak plain; and I was proud that I had
a boy who was forming verbs." These little memorials sooth my
mind. Of the parts of Corderius or yEsop, which we learned to re¬
peat, I have not the least recollection, except of a passage in one of
the Morals, where it is said of some man, that, when he hated another,
he made him rich; this I repeated emphatically in my mother's hear¬
ing, who could never conceive that riches could bring any evil. She
remarked it, as I expected.
I had the curiosity, two or three years ago, to look over Garretson's
1 G. Hector never had been taught his Catechism.—Orig.
APPENDIX.
543
Exercises, Willymot's Particles, and Walker's Exercises; and found
very few sentences that I should have recollected if I had found
them in any other books. That which is read without pleasure is
not often recollected nor infixed by conversation, and therefore in
a great measure drops from the memory. Thus it happens that those
who are, taken early from school, commonly lose all that they had
learned.
When we learned As in Prcesenti, we parsed Propria qua. Maribus
by Hool's Terminations; and, when we learned Syntaxis, we parsed
As in Prcesenti; and afterwards Quce Genus, by the same book ; some¬
times, as I remember, proceeding in order of the rules, and some¬
times, particularly in As in Prczsenti, taking words as they occurred in
the Index.
The whole week before we broke up, and the part of the week in
which we broke up, were spent wholly, I know not why, in examina¬
tion ; and were therefore easy to both us and the master. The two
nights before the vacation were free from exercise.
This was the course of the school, which I remember with pleasure;
for I was indulged and caressed by my master, and, I think, really
excelled the rest.
I was with Hawkins but two years, and perhaps four months. The
time, till I had computed it, appeared much longer by the multitude
of novelties which it supplied, and of incidents, then in my thoughts
important, it produced. Perhaps it is not possible that any other
period can make the same impression on the memory..
10. 1719.
In the Spring of 1719, our class consisting of eleven, the number
was always fixed in my memory, but one of the names I have forgotten,
was removed to the upper school, and put under Holbrook, a peevish
and ill-tempered man. We were removed sooner than had been the
custom; for the head-master, intent upon his boarders, left the town-
boys long in the lower school. Our removal was caused by a reproof
from the Town-clerk; and Hawkins complained that he had lost half
his profit. At this removal I cried. The rest were indifferent. My
exercise in Garretson was somewhere about the Gerunds. Our places
in ^Esop and Helvicus I have totally forgotten.
At Whitsuntide Mrs. Longworth brought me a " Hermes Garret-
soni," of which I do not remember that I ever could make much use.
544
APPENDIX.
It was afterwards lost, or stolen at school. My exercise was then in
the end of the Syntax. Hermes furnished me with the word inlici-
turus, which I did not understand, but used it.
This task was very troublesome to me; I made all the twenty-five
exercises, others made but sixteen. I never shewed all mine; five
lay long after in a drawer in the shop. I made an exercise in a little
time, and shewed it my mother; but the task being long upon me,
she said, " Though you could make an exercise in so short a time,
I thought you would find it difficult to make them all as soon as you
should."
This Whitsuntide, I and my brother were sent to pass some time at
Birmingham; I believe, a fortnight. Why such boys were sent to
trouble other houses, I cannot tell. My mother had some opinion
that much improvement was to be had by changing the mode of life.
My uncle Harrison was a widower; and his house was kept by Sally
Ford, a young woman of such sweetness of temper, that I used to say
she had no fault. We lived most at uncle Ford's, being much caressed
by my aunt, a good-natured, coarse woman, easy of converse, but
willing to find something to censure in the absent. My uncle
Harrison did not much like us, nor did we like him. He was a very
mean and vulgar man, drunk every night, but drunk with little drink,
very peevish, very proud, very ostentatious, but, luckily, not rich. At
my aunt Ford's I eat so much of a boiled leg of mutton, that she used
to talk of it. My mother, who had lived in a narrow sphere, and was
then affected by little things, told me seriously that it would hardly
ever be forgotten. Her mind, I think, was afterwards much enlarged,
or greater evils wore out the care of less.
I staid after the vacation was over some days; and remember, when
I wrote home, that I desired the horses to come on Thursday of the
first school week; and then, and not till then, they should be welcome
to go. I was much pleased with a rattle to my whip, and wrote of it
to my mother.
When my father came to fetch us home, he told the ostler, that he
had twelve miles home, and two boys under his care. This offended
me. He had then a watch, which he returned when he was to pay
for it.
In making, I think, the first exercise under Holbrook, I perceived
the power of continuity of attention, of application not suffered to
wander or to pause. I was writing at the kitchen windows, as I
thought, alone, and turning my head saw Sally dancing. I went on
without notice, and had finished almost without perceiving that any
APPENDIX.
545
time had elapsed. This close attention I have seldom in my whole
life obtained.
In the upper-school, I first began to point my exercise, which we
made noon's, business. Of the method I have not so distinct a
remembrance as of the foregoing system. On Thursday morning we
had a lesson, as on other mornings. On Thursday afternoon, and
on Saturday morning, we commonly made examples to the Syntax.
We were soon raised from ^Esop to Phsedrus, and then said our
repetition on Friday afternoon to Hunter. I remember the fable of
the wolf and lamb, to my draught—that I may drink. At what time
we began Phsedrus, I know not. It was the only book which we
learned to the end. In the latter part thirty lines were expected for
a lesson. What reconciles masters to long lessons is the pleasure of
tasking.
Helvicus was very difficult: the dialogue Vestitus, Hawkins directed
us to omit, as being one of the hardest in the book. As I remember,
there was another upon food, and another upon fruits, which we
began, and were ordered not to pursue. In the dialogue of Fruits,
we perceived that Holbrook did not know the meaning of Uvce
Crispce. That lesson gave us great trouble. I observed that we
learned Helvicus a long time with very little progress. We learned it
in the afternoon on Monday and Wednesday.
Gladiolus Scriptorius.—A little lapse, we quitted it. I got an
English Erasmus.
In Phsedrus we tried to use the interpretation, but never attempted
the notes. Nor do I remember that the interpretation helped us.
In Phsedrus we were sent up twice to the upper master to be
punished. The second time we complained that we could not get the
passage. Being told that we should ask, we informed him that we had
asked, and that the assistant would not tell us.
N N
54-6
APPENDIX.
VARIOUS LETTERS,
FROM JOHNSON TO DIFFERENT PERSONS,
From October, 1731, to April, 1771; published by Mr. Croker
in the first and subsequent editions of his Boswell's " Life
of Johnson."
JOHNSON TO MR. G. HICKMAN.1
" Lichfield, Oct. 30, 1731.
" Sir,
" I have so long neglected to return you thanks for the favour
and assistance received from you at Stourbridge, that I am afraid you
have now done expecting it. I can, indeed, make no apology, but by
assuring you, that this delay, whatever was the cause of it, proceeded
neither from forgetfulness, disrespect, nor ingratitude. Time has not
made the sense of obligation less warm, nor the thanks I return less
sincere. But while I am acknowledging one favour, I must beg
another—that you would excuse the composition of the verses you
desired. Be pleased to consider, that versifying against one's inclina¬
tion is the most disagreeable thing in the world; and that one's own
disappointment is no inviting subject; and that though the gratifying
of you might have prevailed over my dislike of it, yet it proves, upon
reflection, so barren, that to attempt to write upon it, is to undertake
to build without materials. As I am yet unemployed, I hope you will,
if any thing should offer, remember and recommend,
" Sir, your humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, vol. viii., p. 416.
1 Gregory Hickman, Johnson's cousin : see ante, p. 58, note.—Editor.
APPENDIX.
547
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.1
" Goff Square, July 12, 1749.
" Dear Miss,
"I am extremely obliged to you for your letter, which I
would have answered last post, but that illness prevented me. I
have been often out of order of late, and have very much neglected
my affairs. You have acted very prudently with regard to Levett's
affair,2 which will, I think, not at all embarrass me, for you may
promise him, that the mortgage shall be taken up at Michaelmas, or,
at least, some time between that and Christmas; and if he requires to
have it done sooner, I will endeavour it. I make no doubt, by that
time, of either doing it myself, or persuading some of my friends to
do it for me.
" Please to acquaint him with it, and let me know if he be satisfied.
When he once called on me, his name was mistaken, and therefore I
did not see him ; but, finding the mistake, wrote to him the same day,
but never heard more of him, though I entreated him to let me know
where to wait on him. You frighted me, you little gipsy, with your
black wafer, for I had forgot you were in mourning, and was afraid
your letter had brought me ill news of my mother, whose death is one
of the few calamities on which I think with terror. I long to know
how she does, and how you all do. Your poor mamma is come
home, but very weak; yet I hope she will grow better, else she
shall go into the country. She is now up stairs, and knows not of
my writing. I am, dear Miss, your most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO RICHARDSON.
" March 9, 1750-1.
" Dear Sir,
" Though 'Clarissa' wants no help from external splendour, I
was glad to see her improved in her appearance, but more glad to find
that she was now got above all fears of prolixity, and confident enough
1 This and several other letters to Miss Porter, Johnson's step-daughter,
were obtained by Mr. Croker from Mr. Pearson, of Lichfield, to whom
the originals had been bequeathed by Miss Porter.
s See ante, p. 121.
548
APPENDIX.
of success to supply whatever had been hitherto suppressed. I never
indeed found a hint of any such defalcation, but I regretted it; for
though, the story is long, every letter is short.
" I wish you would add an index rerum, that when the reader
recollects any incident, he may easily find it, which at present he
cannot do, unless he knows in which volume it is told; for ' Clarissa'
is not a performance to be read with eagerness, and laid aside for
ever • but will be occasionally consulted by the busy, the aged, and the
studious; and therefore I beg that this edition, by which I suppose
posterity is to abide, may want nothing that can facilitate its use.
" I am, sir, yours, &c.
"Sam. Johnson."
Rich. Cor.
JOHNSON TO RICHARDSON.
"26th Sept., 1753.
"Dear Sir,
" I return you my sincerest thanks for the volumes of your
new work;1 but it is a kind of tyrannical kindness to give only so much
at a time, as makes more longed for; but that will probably be thought,
even of the whole, when you have given it.
" I have no objection but to the preface, in which you first mention
the letters as fallen by some chance into your hands, and afterwards
mention your health as such, that you almost despaired of going
through your plan. If you were to require my opinion which part
should be changed, I should be inclined to the suppression of that
part which seems to disclaim the composition. What is modesty,
if it deserts from truth ? Of what use is the disguise by which nothing
is concealed?
" You must forgive this, because it is meant well.
" I thank you once more, dear Sir, for your books; but cannot I
prevail this time for an index?—such I wished, and shall wish, to
' Clarissa.' Suppose that in one volume an accurate index was made
to the three works—but while I am writing an objection arises—
such an index to the three would look like the preclusion of a
fourth, to which I will never contribute; for if I cannot benefit
mankind, I hope never to injure them. I am, Sir, your most obliged
and most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
1 The sixth and seventh volumes of Sir Charles Grandison.—Croker.
APPENDIX.
549
JOHNSON TO JOSEPH WARTON.
"[London,] Dec. 24, 1754.
"Dear Sir,
" I am sat down to answer your kind letter, though I know
not whether I shall direct it so as that it may reach you; the mis¬
carriage of it will be no great matter, as I have nothing to send but
thanks, of which I owe you many; yet, if a few should be lost, I shall
amply find them in my own mind; and professions of respect, of
which the profession will easily be renewed while the respect con¬
tinues : and the same causes which first produced can hardly fail to
preserve it. Pray let me know, however, whether my letter finds its
way to you.
" Poor dear Collins !—Let me know whether you think it would
give him pleasure if I should write to him. / have often been near his
state, and therefore have it in great commiseration.
"I sincerely wish you the usual pleasures of this joyous season, and
more than the usual pleasures, those of contemplation on the great
event which this festival commemorates. I am, dear Sir, your most
affectionate and most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Woo/l's Life.
JOHNSON TO RICHARDSON.
"Tuesday, 19th Feb., 1756.
"Dear Sir,
" I return you my sincerest thanks for the favour which you
were pleased to do me two nights ago. Be pleased to accept of this
little book [probably the " Account of the Longitude "], which is all
that I have published this winter. The inflammation is come again
into my eye, so that I can write very little. I am, Sir, your most
obliged and most humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Rich. Corresp.
JOHNSON TO RICHARDSON.
" Gough Square, 16th March, 1756.
"Sir,
"I am obliged to entreat your assistance; I am now under an
arrest for five pounds eighteen shillings. Mr. Strahan, from whom I
55°
APPENDIX.
should have received the necessary help in this case, is not at home,
and I am afraid of not finding Mr. Millar.. If you will be so good as
to send me this sum, I will very gratefully repay you, and add it to all
former obligations. I am, Sir, your most obedient and most humble
servant, " Sam. Johnson."
"Sent six guineas.
" Witness, William Richardson."
Gent. Mag.
f
JOHNSON TO [THOMAS WARTON.] 1
" Oct. 27, 1757,
" Dear Sir,
" I have been thinking and talking with Mr. Allen about some
literary business for an inhabitant of Oxford. Many schemes might
be plausibly proposed, but at present these may be sufficient. 1. An
Ecclesiastical History of England. In this there are a great many
materials which must be compressed into a narrow compass. This
book must not exceed 4 vols. 8vo. 2. A History of the Reforma¬
tion (not of England only, but of Europe;) this must not exceed the
same bulk, and will be full of and very entertaining,
3. The Life of Richard the First. 4. The Life of Edward the
Confessor.
"All these are works for which the requisite materials may be
found at Oxford, and any of them well executed would be well
received. I impart these designs to you in confidence, that what you
do not make use of yourself shall revert to me uncommunicated to any
other. The schemes of a writer are his property and his revenue, and
therefore they must not be made common. I am, Sir, your most
humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
1 This letter was found by Mr. Peter Cunningham, in the papers of
Allen, the printer, and was intended, no doubt, for Thomas Warton,
though, perhaps from some change of opinion, not forwarded to him.—
Croker.
APPENDIX.
551
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
"25th Jan., 1759.
{The beginning is torn and lost.)
" You will forgive me if I am not yet so composed as to give any
directions about any thing. But you are wiser and better than I, and
I shall be pleased with all that you shall do. It is not of any use for
me now to come down; nor can I bear the place. If you want any
directions, Mr. Howard will advise you. The twenty pounds I could
not get a bill for to-night, but will send it on Saturday. I am, my
dear, your affectionate servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" 6th Feb., 1759.
" Dear Miss,
" I have no reason to forbear writing, but that it makes my
heart heavy, and I had nothing particular to say which might not be
delayed to the next post; but had no thoughts of ceasing to corre¬
spond with my dear Lucy, the only person now left in the world with
whom I think myself connected. There needed not my dear
mother's desire, for every heart must lean to somebody, and I have
nobody but you; in whom I put all my little affairs with too much
confidence to desire you to keep receipts, as you prudently proposed.
" If you and Kitty will keep the house, I think I shall like it best.
Kitty may carry on the trade for herself, keeping her own stock apart,
and laying aside any money that she receives for any of the goods
which her good mistress has left behind her. I do not see, if this
scheme be followed, any need of appraising the books. My mother's
debts, dear mother, I suppose I may pay with little difficulty; and the
little trade may go silently forward. I fancy Kitty can do nothing
better; and I shall not want to put her out of a house, where she has
lived so long, and with so much virtue. I am very sorry that she is
ill, and earnestly hope that she will soon recover; let her know that
I have the highest value for her, and would do any thing for her ad¬
vantage. Let her think of this proposal. I do not see any likelier
552
APPENDIX.
method by which she may pass the remaining part of her life in quiet¬
ness and competence.
" You must have what part of the house you please, while you are
inclined to stay in it; but I flatter myself with the hope that you and
I shall some time pass our days together. I am very solitary and
comfortless, but will not invite you to come hither till I can have
hope of making you live here so as not to dislike your situation.
Pray, my dearest, write to me as often as you can. I am, dear Madam,
your affectionate humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS,
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" ist March, 175 §[9],
" Dear Madam,
" I thought your last letter long in coming; and did not require
or expect such an inventory of little things as you have sent me. I
could have taken your word for a matter of much greater value. I
am glad that Kitty is better; let her be paid first, as my dear, dear
mother ordered, and then let me know at once the sum necessary to
discharge her other debts, and I will find it you very soon.
" I beg, my dear, that you would act for me without the least
scruple, for I can repose myself very confidently upon your prudence,
and hope we shall never have reason to love each other less. I shall
take it very kindly if you make it a rule to write to me once at least
every week, for I am now very desolate, and am loth to be universally
forgotten. I am, dear sweet, your affectionate servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" March 23, 1759.
" Dear Madam,
" I beg your pardon for having so long omitted to write. One
thing or other has put me off. I have this day moved my things, and
you are now to direct to me at Staple Inn, London. I hope, my
dear, you are well, and Kitty mends. I wish her success in her trade. I
APPENDIX.
553
am going to publish a little story book [" Rasselas"], which I will send
you when it is out.1 Write to me, my dearest girl, for I am always
glad to hear from you. I am, my dear, your humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" May 10, 1759.
" Dear Madam,
" I am almost ashamed to tell you that all your letters came
safe, and that I have been always very well, but hindered, I hardly
know how, from writing. I sent, last week, some of my works, one
for you, one for your aunt Hunter, who was with my poor dear mother
when she died, one for Mr. Howard, and one for Kitty.
" I beg you, my dear, to write often to me, and tell me how you
like my little book. I am, dear love, your affectionate humble
servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
TO MRS. MONTAGU.
" Gray's Inn, Dec. 17, 1759.
" Madam,
"Goodness so conspicuous as yours will be often solicited, and
perhaps sometimes solicited by those who have little pretension to
your favour. It is now my turn to introduce a petitioner, but such
as I have reason to believe you will think worthy of your notice. Mrs.
Ogle, who kept the music-room in Soho Square, a woman who struggles
with great industry for the support of eight children, hopes by a
benefit concert to set herself free from a few debts, which she cannot
otherwise discharge. She has, I know not why, so high an opinion
of me as to believe that you will pay less regard to her application than
to mine. You know, Madam, I am sure you know, how hard it is to
deny, and therefore would not wonder at my compliance, though I
were to suppress a motive which you know not, the vanity of being
supposed to be of any importance to Mrs. Montagu. But though I
may be willing to see the world deceived for my advantage, I am not
deceived myself, for I know that Mrs. Ogle will owe whatever favours
1 See ante, p. 278, note.—Editor,
554
APPENDIX.
she shall receive from the patronage which we humbly entreat on this
occasion, much more to your compassion for honesty in distress,
than to the request of, Madam, your most obedient and most humble
servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Montagu MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS REYNOLDS.
" 21st Dec., 1762.
"Dear Madam,
" If Mr. Mudge should make the offer you mention, I shall
certainly comply with it, but I cannot offer myself unasked. I am
much pleased to find myself so much esteemed by a man whom I so
much esteem.
" Mr. Tolcher is here; full of life, full of talk, and full of enterprise.
To see brisk young fellows of seventy-four, is very surprising to those
who begin to suspect themselves of growing old.
"You may tell at Torrington that whatever they may think, I have
not forgot Mr. Johnson's widow, nor school—Mr. Johnson's salmon
•—nor Dr. Morison's ' Idler.' For the widow I shall apply very soon
to the Bishop of Bristol, who is now sick. The salmon I cannot yet
learn any hope of making a profitable scheme, for where I have in¬
quired, which was where I think the information very faithful, I was
told that dried salmon may be bought in London for a penny a pound;
but I shall not yet drop the search.
" For the school, a sister of Miss Carwithen's has offered herself to
Miss Williams, who sent her to Mr. Reynolds, where the business
seems to have stopped. Miss Williams thinks her well qualified, and
I am told she is a woman of elegant manners, and of a lady-like
appearance. Mr. Reynolds must be written to, for, as she knows
more of him than of me, she will probably choose rather to treat with
him.
" Dr. Morison's Books shall be sent to him with my sincere acknow¬
ledgements of all his civilities.
" I am going for a few days or weeks to Oxford, that I may free
myself from a cough, which is sometimes very violent; however, if
you design me the favour of any more letters, do not let the uncer¬
tainty of my abode hinder you, for they will be sent after me, and be
very gladly received by, Madam, your most obliged humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
AFPENDIX.
555
JOHNSON TO GEORGE STRAHAN,
At School.
"19th Feb. [1763.]
"Dear George,
" I am glad that you have found the benefit of confidence, and
hope you will never want a friend to whom you may safely disclose
any painful secret. The state of your mind you had not so concealed
but that it was suspected at home; which I mention, that if any hint
should be given you, it may not be imputed to me, who have told
nothing but to yourself, who had told more than you intended.
" I hope you read more of Nepos, or of some other book, than you
construe to Mr. Bright. The more books you look into for your enter¬
tainment, with the greater variety of style you will make yourself
acquainted. Turner I do not know; but think that if Clark be better,
you should change it, for I shall never be willing that you should
trouble yourself with more than one book to learn the government of
words. What book that one shall be, Mr. Bright must determine. Be
but diligent in reading and writing, and doubt not of the success. Be
pleased to make my compliments to Miss Page and the gentlemen. I
am, dear Sir, yours affectionately, "Sam. Tohnson."
Rose MSS.
JOHNSON TO GEORGE STRAHAN.
" 26th March, 1763.
" Dear Sir,
"You did not very soon answer my letter, and therefore can¬
not complain that I make no great haste to answer yours. I am well
enough satisfied with the proficiency that you make, and hope that
you will not relax the vigour of your diligence. I hope you begin now
to see that all is possible which was professed. Learning is a wide
field, but six years spent in close application are a long time; and I
am still of opinion, that if you continue to consider knowledge as the
most pleasing and desirable of all acquisitions, and do not suffer your
course to be interrupted, you may take your degree not only without
deficiency, but with great distinction.
"You must still continue to write Latin. This is the most difficult
part—indeed, the only part that is very difficult of your under-
556 APPENDIX.
taking. If you can exemplify the rules of syntax, I know not
whether it will be worth while to trouble yourself with any more
translations. You will more increase your number of words, and ad¬
vance your skill in phraseology, by making a short theme or two every
day; and when you have construed properly a stated number of
verses, it will be pleasing to go from reading to composition, and from
composition to reading. But do not be very particular about method;
any method will do, if there be but diligence. Let me know, if you
please, once a week what you are doing. I am, dear George, your
humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Rose MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
"April 12, 1763.
" My Dear,
"The newspaper has informed me of the death of Captain
Porter. I know not what to say to you, condolent or consolatory,
beyond the common considerations which I suppose you have pro¬
posed to others, and know how to apply to yourself. In all afflictions
the first relief is to be asked of God.
" I wish to be informed in what condition your brother's death has
left your fortune; if he has bequeathed you competence or plenty, I
shall sincerely rejoice; if you are in any distress or difficulty, I will
endeavour to make what I have, or what I can get, sufficient for us
both. I am, Madam, yours affectionately, "Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO GEORGE STRAHAN.
" 16th April, 1763.
" Dear Sir,
" Your account of your proficience is more nearly equal, I
find, to my expectations than your own. You are angry that a theme
on which you took so much pains was at last a kind of English Latin;
what could you expect more ? If at the end of seven years you write
good Latin, you will excel most of your contemporaries : Scribendo
disces scribere. It is only by writing ill that you can attain to write
well. Be but diligent and constant, and make no doubt of success.
APPENDIX.
557
"I will allow you but six weeks for Tully's Offices. Walker's
Particles I would not have you trouble yourself to learn at all by
heart, but look in it from time to time, and observe his notes and re¬
marks, and see how they are exemplified. The translation from
Clark's history will improve you, and I would have you continue it to
the end of the book.
" I hope you read by the way at loose hours other books, though
you do not mention them; for no time is to be lost; and what can
be done with a master is but a small part of the whole. I would have
you now and then try at some English verses. When you find that
you have mistaken any thing, review the passage carefully, and settle
it in your mind.
" Be pleased to make my compliments, and those of Miss Williams,
to all our friends. I am, dear Sir, yours most affectionately,
" Sam. Johnson."
Rose MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" Inner Temple Lane, Jan. 13, 1761.
" Dearest Madam,
" I ought to have begun the new year with repairing the omis¬
sions of the last, and to have told you sooner, what I can always tell
you with truth, that I wish you long life and happiness, always
increasing till it shall end at last in the happiness of heaven.
" I hope, my dear, you are well; I am at present pretty much dis¬
ordered by a cold and cough; I have just been blooded, and hope I
shall be better.
" Pray give my love to Kitty. I should be glad to hear that she
goes on well. I am, my dearest dear, your most affectionate ser¬
vant, " Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
"July 5, 1763.
" My dearest Dear,
" I am extremely glad that so much prudence and virtue as
yours is at last awarded with so large a fortune;1 and doubt not but
1 Miss Porter had just received a legacy of .£10,000 by the death of
her brother.—Croker.
558
APPENDIX.
that the excellence which you have shewn in circumstances of diffi¬
culty will continue the same in the convenience of wealth.
" I have not written to you sooner, having nothing to say, which
you would not easily suppose—nothing but that I love you and wish
you happy; of which you may be always assured, whether I write or
not.
" I have had an inflammation in my eyes; but it is much better,
and will be, I hope, soon quite well.
" Be so good as to let me know whether you design to stay at Lich¬
field this summer; if you do, I purpose to come down. I shall bring
Frank with me; so that Kitty must contrive to make two beds, or get
a servant's bed at the Three Crowns, which may be as well. As I
suppose she may want sheets, and table linen, and such things, I have
sent ten pounds, which she may lay out in conveniences. I will pay
her for our board what you think proper ; I think a guinea a week for
me and the boy.
" Be pleased to give my love to Kitty.—I am, my dearest love, your
most humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
"July 12, 1763.
" My dearest Love,
" I had forgot my debt to poor Kitty; pray let her have the
note, and do what you can for her, for she has been always very good.
I will help her to a little more money if she wants it, and will write.
I intend that she shall have the use of the house as long as she and I
live.
" That there should not be room for me at the house is some dis¬
appointment to me, but the matter is not very great. I am sorry you
have had your head filled with building, for many reasons. It was
not necessary to settle immediately for life at any one place; you
might have staid and seen more of the world. You will not have your
work done, as you do not understand it, but at twice the value. You
might have hired a house at half the interest of the money for which
you build it, if your house cost you a thousand pounds. You might
have the Palace for twenty pounds, and make forty of your thousand
pounds; so in twenty years you would have saved four hundred
pounds, and still have had your thousand. I am, dear dear, yours,
&c., " Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
APPENDIX.
559
JOHNSON TO GEORGE STRAHAN.
" 14th July, 1763.
"Dear George,
"To give pain ought always to be painful, and I am sorry that
I have been the occasion of any uneasiness to you, to whom I hope
never to [do] any thing but for your benefit or your pleasure. Your
uneasiness was without any reason on your part, as you had written
with sufficient frequency to me, and I had only neglected to answer
them, because as nothing new had been proposed to your study, no
new direction or incitement could be offered you. But if it had hap¬
pened that you had omitted what you did not omit, and that I had
for an hour, or a week, or a much longer time thought myself put out
of your mind by something to which presence gave that prevalence,
which presence will sometimes give even where there is the most
prudence and experience, you are not to imagine that my friendship
is light enough to be blown away by the first cross blast, or that my
regard or kindness hangs by so slender a hair as to be broken off by
the unfelt weight of a petty offence. I love you, and hope to love you
long. You have hitherto done nothing to diminish my good will, and
though you had done much more than you have supposed imputed to
you, my good will would not have been diminished.
" I write thus largely on this suspicion, which you have suffered to
enter into your mind, because in youth we are apt to be too rigorous
in our expectations, and to suppose that the duties of life are to be
performed with unfailing exactness and regularity; but in our pro¬
gress through life we are forced to abate much of our demands, and
to take friends such as we can find them, not as we would make
them.
"These concessions every wise man is more ready to make to
others, as he knows that he shall often want them for himself; and
when he remembers how often he fails in the observance of a cultiva¬
tion of his best friends, is willing to suppose that his friends may in
their turn neglect him, without any intention to offend him.
" When therefore it shall happen, as happen it will, that you or I
have disappointed the expectation of the other, you are not to suppose
that you have lost me, or that I intended to lose you; nothing will
remain but to repair the fault, and to go on as if it never had been
committed. I am, Sir, your affectionate servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
Rose MSS.
560
APPENDIX.
JOHNSON TO GEORGE STRAHAN.
"20th Sept., 1763.
" Dear Sir,
" I should have answered your last letter sooner if I could have
given you any valuable or useful directions; but I know not any way
by which the composition of Latin verses can be much facilitated. Of
the grammatical part, which comprises the knowledge of the measure
of the foot, and quantity of the syllables, your grammar will teach you
all that you can be taught, and even of that you can hardly know any¬
thing by rule but the measure of the foot. The quantity of syllables,
even of those for which rules are given, is commonly learned by
practice and retained by observation. For the poetical part, which com¬
prises variety of expression, propriety of terms, dexterity in selecting
commodious words, and readiness in changing their order, it will all
be produced by frequent essays and resolute perseverance. The less
help you have the sooner you will be able to go forward without help.
" I suppose you are now ready for another author. I would not
have you dwell longer upon one book than till your familiarity with
its style makes it easy to you. Every new book will for a time be
difficult. Make it a rule to write something in Latin every day; and
let me know what you are now doing, and what your scheme is to do
next. Be pleased to give my compliments to Mr. Bright, Mr. Stevenson,
and Miss Page. I am, dear Sir, your affectionate servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
Rose MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS REYNOLDS.
" Oxford, 27th Oct. [1763.]
" Your letter has scarcely come time enough to make an answer
possible. I wish we could talk over the affair. I cannot go now. I
must finish my book. I do not know Mr. Collier. I have not money
beforehand sufficient. How long have you known Collier, that you
should have put yourself into his hands ? I once told you that ladies
were timorous, and yet not cautious.
" If I might tell my thoughts to one with whom they never had any
weight, I should think it best to go through France. The expense is
APPENDIX.
561
not great; I do not much like obligation, nor think the grossness of a
ship very suitable to a lady. .Do not go till I see you. I will see you
as soon as I can. I am, my dearest, most sincerely yours,
" Sam. Johnson."
Reyn. MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" London, Jan. 10, 1764.
" My Dear,
" I was in hopes that you would have written to me before this
time, to tell me that your house was finished, and that you were
happy in it. I am sure I wish you happy. By the carrier of this
week you will receive a box, in which I have put some books, most of
which were your poor dear mamma's, and a diamond ring, which I
hope you will wear as my new year's gift. If you receive it with as
much kindness as I send it, you will not slight it, you will be very
fond of it.
" Pray give my service to Kitty, who, I hope, keeps pretty well. I
know not now when I shall come down; I believe it will not be very
soon. But I shall be glad to hear of you from time to time.
" I wish you, my dearest, many happy years; take what care you
can of your health. I am, my dear, your affectionate humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO GARRICIv.
"May 18, 1765.
" Dear Sir,
" I know that great regard will be had to your opinion of an
Edition of Shakspeare. I desire, therefore, to secure an honest pre¬
judice in my favour by securing your suffrage, and that this prejudice
may really be honest, I wish you would name such plays as you would
see, and they shall be sent you by, Sir, your most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
Upcott MSS.
o o
562
APPENDIX.
JOHNSON TO GEORGE STRAHAN,
University College, Oxford.
" May 25, 1765.
" Dear Sir,
" That I have answered neither of your letters you must not
impute to any declension of good will, but merely to the want of
something to say. I suppose you pursue your studies diligently, and
diligence will seldom fail of success. Do not tire yourself so much
with Greek one day as to be afraid of looking on it the next; but give
it a certain portion of time, suppose four hours, and pass the rest of
the day in Latin or English. I would have you learn French, and
take in a literary journal once a month, which will accustom you to
various subjects, and inform you what learning is going forward in the
world. Do not omit to mingle some lighter books with those of more
importance; that which is read remisso animo is often of great use,
and takes great hold of the remembrance. However, take what
course you will, if you be diligent you will be a scholar. I am, dear
Sir, yours affectionately, " Sam. Johnson."
Rose MSS.
JOHNSON TO DR. JOSEPH WARTON.
" Oct. 9, 1765.
" Dear Sir,
" Mrs. Warton uses me hardly in supposing that I could forget
so much kindness and civility as she showed me at Winchester. I
remember, likewise, our conversation about St. Cross. The desire of
seeing her again will be one of the motives that will bring me into
Hampshire.
" I have taken care of your book; being so far from doubting your
subscription, that I think you have subscribed twice : you once paid
your guinea into my own hand in the garret in Gough Square. When
you light on your receipt, throw it on the fire ; if you find a second
receipt, you may have a second book.
"To tell the truth, as I felt no solicitude about this work, I receive
no great comfort from its conclusion; but yet am well enough pleased
that the public has no farther claim upon me. I wish you would
write more frequently to, dear Sir, your affectionate humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
APPENDIX.
563
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, Jan. 14, 1766.
" Dear Madam,
" The reason why I did not answer your letters was that I can
please myself with no answer. I was loth that Kitty should leave the
house till I had seen it once more, and yet for some reasons I cannot
well come during the session of parliament. I am unwilling to sell
it, yet hardly know why. If it can be let, it should be repaired, and
I purpose to let Kitty have part of the rent while we both live; and
wish that you would get it surveyed, and let me know how much
money will be necessary to fit it for a tenant. I would not have you
stay longer than is convenient, and I thank you for your care of Kitty.
" Do not take my omission amiss. I am sorry for it, but know
not what to say. You must act by your own prudence, and I shall
be pleased. Write to me again; I do not design to neglect you any
more. It is great pleasure for me to hear from you; but this whole
affair is painful to me. I wish you, my dear, many happy years.
Give my respects to Kitty. I am, dear Madam, your most affectionate
humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MRS. ASTON.
"Nov. 17, 1767.
" Madam,
" If you impute it to disrespect or inattention, that I took no
leave when I left Lichfield, you will do me great injustice. I know
you too well not to value your friendship.
"When I came to Oxford I enquired after the product of our
walnut-tree, but it had, like other trees this year, but very few nuts,
and for those few I came too late. The tree, as I told you, Madam,
we cannot find to be more than thirty years old, and, upon measuring
it, I found it, at about one foot from the ground, seven feet in circum¬
ference, and at the height of about seven feet, the circumference is
five feet and a half; it would have been, I believe, still bigger, but
that it has been lopped. The nuts are small, such as they call single
nuts; whether this nut is of quicker growth than better I have not
yet inquired; such as they are, I hope to send them next year.
5^4
APPENDIX.
"You know, dear Madam, the liberty I took of hinting, that I did
not think your present mode of life very pregnant with happiness.
Reflection has not yet changed my opinion. Solitude excludes plea¬
sure, and does not always secure peace. Some communication of
sentiments is commonly necessary to give vent to the imagination,
and discharge the mind of its own flatulencies. Some lady surely
might be found, in whose conversation you might delight, and in
whose fidelity you might repose. The World,, says Locke, has people
of all sorts. You will forgive me this obtrusion of my opinion; I am
sure I wish you well.
" Poor Kitty has done what we have all to do, and Lucy has the
world to begin anew : I hope she will find some way to more content
than I left her possessing.
" Be pleased to make my compliments to Mrs. Hinckley and Miss
Turton. I am, Madam, your most obliged and most humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
Parker MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
"Oxford, April 18, 1768.
" Mv dear, dear LOVE,
"You have had a very great loss. To lose an old friend, is
to be cut off from a great part of the little pleasure that this life allows.
But such is the condition of our nature, that as we live on we must see
those whom we love drop successively, and find our circle of relations
grow less and less, till we are almost unconnected with the world;
and then it must soon be our turn to drop into the grave. There is
always this consolation, that we have one Protector who can never be
lost but by our own fault, and every new experience of the uncertainty
of all other comforts should determine us to fix our hearts where true
joys are to be found. All union with the inhabitants of earth must in
time be broken; and all the hopes that terminate here, must on [one]
part or other end in disappointment.
" I am glad that Mrs. Adey and Mrs. Cobb do not leave you alone.
Pay my respects to them, and the Sewards, and all my friends. When
Mr. Porter comes, he will direct you. Let me know of his arrival,
and I will write to him.
" When I go back to London, I will take care of your reading-glass.
Whenever I can do any thing for you, remember, my dear darling,
that one of my greatest pleasures is to please you.
APPENDIX.
565
" The punctuality of your correspondence I consider as a proof of
great regard. When we shall see each other, I know not, but let us
often think on each other, and think with tenderness. Do not forget
me in your prayers. I have for a long time back been very poorly ;
but of what use is it to complain ? Write often, for your letters always
give great pleasure to, my dear, your most affectionate and most
humble servant, "Sam. Johnson."
Malone.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" June 18, 1768.
" My Love,
"It gives me great pleasure to find that you are so well satis¬
fied with what little things it has been in my power to send you. I
hope you will always employ me in any office that can conduce to
your convenience. My health is, I thank God, much better • but it
is yet very weak; and very little things put it into a troublesome
state; but still I hope all will be well. Pray for me.
"My friends at Lichfield must not think that I forget them.
Neither Mrs. Cobb, nor Mrs. Adey, nor Miss Adey, nor Miss Seward,
nor Miss Vise, are to suppose that I have lost all memory of their
kindness. Mention me to them when you see them. I hear Mr.
Vise has been lately very much in danger. I hope he is better.
" When you write again, let me know how you go on, and what
company you keep, and what you do all day. I love to think on you,
but do not know when I shall see you. Pray, write very often. I
am, dearest, your humble servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MRS. ASTON.
" Brighthelmstone, Aug. 26, 1769.
" Madam,
I suppose you have received the mill: the whole apparatus
seemed to be perfect, except that there is wanting a little tin spout at
the bottom, and some ring or knob, on which the bag that catches the
meal is to be hung. When these are added, I hope you will be able
to grind your own bread, and treat me with a cake made by yourself,
of meal from your own corn of your own grinding.
566
APPENDIX.
" I was glad, Madam, to see you so well, and hope your health will
long increase, and then long continue. I am, Madam, your most
obedient servant, "Sam. Johnson."
Parker MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" May i, 1770.
" Dearest Madam,
" Among other causes that have hindered me from answering
your last kind letter, is a tedious and painful rheumatism, that has
afflicted me for many weeks, and still continues to molest me. I
hope you are well, and will long keep your health and your cheerfulness.
" One reason why I delayed to write was, my uncertainty how
to answer your letter. I like the thought of giving away the money
very well; but when I consider that Tom Johnson is my nearest
relation, and that he is now old and in great want; that he was my
playfellow in childhood, and has never done any thing to offend me ;
I am in doubt, whether I ought not rather give it him than any
other.
" Of this, my dear, I would have your opinion. I would willingly
please you, and I know that you will be pleased best with what you
think right. Tell me your mind, and do not learn of me to neglect
writing ; for it is a very sorry trick, though it be mine.
"Your brother is well; I saw him to-day, and thought it long since
I saw him before : it seems he has called often, and could not find me.
I am, my dear, your affectionate humble servant,
"Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO MISS PORTER.
" London, May 29, 1770.
" My dearest Dear,
" I am very sorry that your eyes are bad; take great care of
them, especially by candlelight. Mine continue pretty good, but they
are sometimes dim. My rheumatism grows gradually better. I have
considered your letter, and am willing that the whole money should
go where you, my dear, originally intended. I hope to help Tom
some other way. So that matter is over.
APPENDIX.
5 67
"Dr. Taylor has invited me to pass some time with him at Ash¬
bourne ; if I come, you may be sure that I shall take you and
Lichfield in my way. When I am nearer coming, I will send you
word.
" Of Mr. Porter I have seen very little, but I know not that it is
his fault, for he says that he often calls, and never finds me; I am
sorry for it, for I love him. Mr. Mathias has lately had a great deal
of money left him, of which you have probably heard already. I am,
my dearest, your most affectionate servant, " Sam. Johnson."
Pearson MSS.
JOHNSON TO GARRICK.
" Streatham, Dec. 12, 1771.
" Dear Sir,
" I have thought upon your epitaph, but without much effect.
An epitaph is no easy thing.
" Of your three stanzas, the third is utterly unworthy of you. The
first and third together give no discriminative character. If the first
alone were to stand, Hogarth would not be distinguished from any
other man of intellectual eminence. Suppose you worked upon some¬
thing like this :
" The Hand of Art here torpid lies
That traced the essential form of Grace :
Here Death has closed the curious eyes
That saw the manners in the face.
"If Genius warm thee, Reader, stay,
If Merit touch thee, shed a tear;
Be Vice and Dulness far away !
Great Hogarth's honour'd dust is here."
" In your second stanza, pictured morals is a beautiful expression,
which I would wish to retain; but learn and mourn cannot stand for
rhymes. Art and nature have been seen together too often. In the
first stanza is feeling, in the second feel. Feeling for tenderness or
sensibility is a word merely colloquial, of late introduction, not yet
sure enough of its own existence to claim a place upon a stone. If
thou hast neither, is quite prose, and prose of the familiar kind. Thus
easy is it to find faults, but it is hard to make an Epitaph.
" When you have reviewed it, let me see it again : you are welcome
568
APPENDIX.
to any help that I can give, on condition that you make my compli¬
ments to Mrs. Garrick. I am, dear Sir, your most, &c.,
" Sam. Johnson."
MS.
JOHNSON TO MISS LANGTON.
" London, April 17, 1771 [2].
" Madam,
" If I could have flattered myself that my letters could have
given pleasure, or have alleviated pain, I should not have omitted to
write to a lady to whom I do sincerely wish every increase of pleasure,
and every mitigation of uneasiness.
" I knew, dear Madam, that a very heavy affliction had fallen upon
you; but it was one of those which the established course of nature
makes necessary, and to which kind words give no relief. Success is,
on these occasions, to be expected only from time.
" Your censure of me, as deficient in friendship, is therefore too
severe. I have neither been unfriendly, nor intentionally uncivil.
The notice with which you have honoured me, I have neither for¬
gotten, nor remembered without pleasure. The calamity of ill health,
your brother will tell you that I have had, since I saw you, sufficient
reason to know and to pity. But this is another evil against which
we can receive little help from one another. I can only advise you,
and I advise you with great earnestness, to do nothing that may hurt
you, and to reject nothing that may do you good. To preserve health
is a moral and religious duty : for health is the basis of all social vir¬
tues ; we can be useful no longer than while we are well.
" If the family knows that you receive this letter, you will be pleased
to make my compliments. I flatter myself with the hopes of seeing
Langton after Lady Rothes's recovery ; and then I hope that you and
I shall renew our conferences, and that I shall find you willing as
formerly to talk and to hear; and shall be again admitted to the
honour of being, Madam, your most obedient and most humble
servant, "Sam. Johnson."
Gent. Mag. vol. lxx. p. 915.
APPENDIX.
569
JOHNSON'S RESIDENCE AT OXFORD.
" Compelled, therefore, by irresistible necessity, he left the College
in Autumn 1731, without a degree, having been a member of it
little more than three years," (Vol. i. p. 46.)
There is no question that one part of this statement is correct;
Johnson left Oxford without a degree. But in the first and subse¬
quent editions of his Boswell, Mr. Croker, on the authority of Dr.
Hall, Master- of Pembroke (1809-1843), impugned the accuracy of
Boswell's information as to the length of Johnson's residence at Pem¬
broke. Instead of having resided there rather more than three years,
Croker, supported by Dr. Hall's investigations in the battel books of
the College, reduced the length of his residence to the shorter period
of fourteen months ; from his matriculation, October 31st, 1728, till
his departure in Christmas vacation, 1729. This difference has led
to a controversy, in which much labour has been expended, and con¬
siderable ingenuity displayed, greater, indeed, than the intrinsic
importance of the question would seem to warrant.
The general accuracy and precision of Boswell's statements cannot
be questioned. In his two books, the Life and the Tour, abounding
with facts minutely recorded, it may well excite both our admiration
and wonder that so few of them have been questioned, and fewer still
proved to be inaccurate. He seems to have taken particular pains
to acquaint himself with the earlier portion of the life of Johnson.
With this end in view, he conversed and corresponded with Edmund
Hector, the oldest, perhaps, of all Johnson's friends. Thus, in their
jaunt, March, 1776, when they paid a visit to Birmingham, Boswell
tells us that "from Mr. Hector I now learnt many particulars of
Johnson's early life, which with others that he gave me at different
times since, have contributed to the formation of this work." (Vol. ii.
p. 275.) Is it to be imagined that Boswell forgot his cunning and
failed to interrogate Hector on the important point of Johnson's resi¬
dence at Oxford ?
But Taylor could tell him even more: Taylor had been Johnson's
schoolfellow at Hunter's; by the advice and recommendation of
570
APPENDIX.
Johnson Taylor entered at Christ Church : he matriculated there,1
February 24th, 1729 : was made a prebendary of Westminster, became
rector of Bosworth, and inherited a good estate at Ashbourne in
Derbyshire, where, for at least a part of the year, he resided, living as a
very prosperous gentleman; there he was frequently visited by Johnson,
and on two occasions he entertained Johnson in company with Bos-
well. There were opportunities then and afterwards for the eager
inquiries of Boswell.
But there was another source of information open to Boswell.
" The history of my Oxford exploits," Mrs. Piozzi reports him to have
said, "lies all between Taylor and Adams."2
William Adams was born at Shrewsbury, 1707. M. A. and Junior
Fellow of the College in 1727, Master of the College 1775. Adams
was present in Jorden's rooms when Johnson, accompanied by his
father, made his first appearance at Oxford, and he continued through
life a true and affectionate friend of Johnson.
Johnson, accompanied by Boswell, visited Oxford March, 1776, and
they together wait on Dr. Adams in the lodge of Pembroke. " Before
his advancement to the headship of his College, I had intended to go
and visit him at Shrewsbury, where he was rector of St. Chad's, in
order to get from him what particulars he could recollect of Johnson's
academical life. He now obligingly gave me part of that authentic
information which, with what I afterwards owed to his kindness, will
be found incorporated in its proper place in this work." (Vol. ii. p.
260.) So that the information, which we find in Boswell's Life, would
seem to be imparted by Adams himself.
But not content with prosecuting his inquiries with the friends
of Johnson, he carried them on with Johnson himself. Thus, after
meeting him at dinner at General Paoli's, Tuesday, March 31st,
1772, Boswell goes on to tell us3 that, as they drank tea together in his
lodgings in Conduit Street, previous to their going to the Pantheon,
they talked among other things of Goldsmith's Life of Parnell, which
Johnson said was 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 with him." Whereupon Boswell, always on
the watch to gather materials, said : " If it was not troublesome and
presuming too much, I would request him to tell me all the little
1 See Birkbeck Hill's Johnson, his Friends and Critics, Appendix,
P- 343-
2 Johnsoniana, p. 15. 3 Life, vol. ii. p. 20.
APPENDIX.
571
circumstances of his life; what schools he attended, when he came
to Oxford, when he came to London, &c. &c. He did not disapprove
my curiosity as to these particulars, but said, ' They'll come out by
degrees, as we talk together.'" (Vol. ii. p. 20-21.) And as they
talked together on Easter Sunday, April nth, 1773, when Boswell
enjoyed the rare honour of dining with him in " the dusky recess of a
court in Fleet Street," " I again solicited him to communicate to me
the particulars of his early life."1 He said, " You shall have them
all for two pence. . . . He mentioned to me this day many circum¬
stances, which I wrote down when I went home and have inter¬
woven in the former part of this narrative." Now, though Johnson
might have resented too close a questioning on the subject of his
academical life, for as he himself said, " it is particularly wrong to
question a man concerning himself—there may be parts of his former
life he may not wish to be made known to other persons, or even
brought to his own recollection,"2 yet Boswell would encounter no
reticence of this nature in Hector, or Taylor, or Adams. It is
possible, indeed, that from his ignorance of English academical life,
Boswell may have mistaken what they said; but his statement that
Johnson left Pembroke in the Autumn of 1731, would seem built
on information which almost amounts to positive evidence, and
which remained unchallenged from the publication of the first edition
in 1791 down to the time of Mr. Croker's editorship. In his first,
and all subsequent editions, Mr. Croker, on the authority of the
buttery books of the College, which had been carefully examined
by Dr. Hall, the Master, questioned the rather more than three
years' residence, and reduced it to fourteen months. It would be
idle to dispute the authoritative character of these buttery books. By
their evidence, and theirs alone, the College authorities, both then
and now, would determine the question of residence, which is the
necessary preliminary to proceeding to the degree of Bachelor of
Arts. Mr. Fitzgerald, though he carefully examined them, remained
constant to Boswell's representation, not considering, as I think,
the distinction between a name being borne on the books of the
College, and battels being charged consecutively to that name, which
alone would prove residence. He has shown that weekly battels
were charged to Johnson with regularity from November 1st, 1728, to
December 12th, 1729. His name, indeed, remains on the books,
and sums of small amount are charged occasionally, at long intervals,
1 Life, vol. ii. p. 64.
: Life, vol. ii. p. 286.
572 APPENDIX.
against him; probably College charges of some kind, but not battels.
In October, 1731, the name finally disappears from the books. The
Editor cordially sympathizes with Mr. Fitzgerald's loyal belief in the
accuracy of Boswell. He has made an excellent fight for it, but
those terrible buttery books present evidence which cannot be con¬
futed, and which bears down all opposing statements. Like Mr.
Fitzgerald, the Editor had the help of Professor Chandler and Mr.
Mowat, the Bursar of the College, in examining their records. He
owes much to the kindness of these gentlemen, who, all their courtesy
notwithstanding, may well entertain a very pardonable dread of anxious
and inquiring editors. Reluctantly, I am obliged to confess, that
Boswell was mistaken and Mr. Croker right in his correction of the
mistake. The whole question, not very important after all, has been
well sifted and clearly stated by Dr. Birkbeck Hill in his excellent
volume on "Dr. Johnson, his Friends and his Critics:" London,
1878.
JOHNSON'S PARLIAMENTARY DEBATES.
" He this year and the two following {i.e., 1741-2-3) wrote the Parlia¬
mentary Debates. He told me himself, that he was the sole composer
of them for those three years only. He was not, however, precisely
exact in his statement, which he mentioned from hasty recollection ;
for it is sufficiently evident that his composition of them began
Nov. 19, 1740, and ended Feb. 23, 1743."1
The sufficient evidence on which Boswell founds his very definite
statement was, it may be presumed, the same as that which enabled
the editor and publisher of the Debates to specify the first as occurring
on the 19th Nov., 1740, and the last on the 23rd Feb., 1743. These
are the limits assigned in the first edition, published under the editor¬
ship of George Chalmers in the year 1787 : a period of two years
and three months; and these have been accepted by the different
editors of Boswell's " Life/' and were first questioned by Mr. Croker.
It will be respectful to reproduce here the note which he appended
in all his editions to the above statement of Boswell:—" Boswell
must mean that the sole and exclusive composition by Johnson
1 Life, vol. i. p. 112.
APPENDIX.
573
began at this date, because we have seen that he had been em¬
ployed on these Debates as early as 1738. I, however, see abun¬
dant reason to believe that he wrote them from the time that they
assumed the Lilliputian title; and even the introduction to this
new form is evidently his. And when Mr. Boswell limits Johnson's
share to the 23rd of Feb., 1743, he refers to the date of the de¬
bate itself, and not to that of the report, for the debates on the
Gin Act (certainly reported by Johnson), which took place in
Feb., 1743, were not concluded in the Magazine till Feb., 1744;
so that, instead of two years and nine months, according to Mr.
Boswell's reckoning, we have, I think, Johnson's own evidence that
he was employed in this way for near six years—from 1738 to
1744." Two years and nine months is not Mr. Boswell's reckon¬
ing, but Mr. Croker's blunder: from Nov. 19, 1740, to Feb. 23,
1743—the dates assigned by the editor of the first edition of the
Debates, and followed by Boswell—do not constitute two years
and nine months, but two years and three months. Nor can it be
shown from Johnson's own evidence, or from the evidence of anyone
else, that he was employed on the Debates for a period of six years.
Admitting that from the first to the last of his connection with the
Magazine he was the sole editor and reporter of them—which is not
the fact—that connection did not extend over six, but was limited to
five, years. Though indeed the last of his debates appeared in the
number of "Gentleman's Magazine" for Feb., 1744, that only proves
the publication, not the composition, of the debate. The examination
of these debates as they appear, both in the " Gentleman's Magazine "
and in the " London," shows, that the reports were published some¬
times a year—sometimes even more—after they were written. In
flat contradiction to Boswell's distinct testimony, that Johnson in¬
formed him that he was the sole composer of them for those three
years only, i.e., 1741-42-43, Mr. Croker "sees abundant reason"
to believe that Johnson wrote them from June, 1^38, when they
assumed the title of the Debates in the Senate of Lilliput, and wrote
even the introduction to this new form. All this must be grounded,
of course, on internal evidence (the most fallacious and dangerous of
all tests of authenticity); for until Mr. Croker's day, no one that we
are aware of ever questioned, that in 1738, and the subsequent years,
the debates in Parliament, brought home and digested by Guthrie,
were sent by Cave to Johnson for his revision. The passage in John¬
son's letter to Cave, see ante, p. 100 : "If I made fewer alterations
than usual in the Debates, it was only because there appeared, and
574
APPENDIX.
still appears to be, less need of alteration," confirms this view. After
some time, however, it was resolved that he should do the whole
himself. There were, then, two periods in Johnson's connection with
the Magazine in relation to the Debates—the first, when, as we see
from his letter to Cave, he was, so to speak, the reviser of Guthrie's
reports; the second, when, according to Johnson's own testimony, he
was the sole composer of them. This is Boswell's representation,
which has not been invalidated by any of Mr. Croker's busy, but
blundering, annotations.
Many years after his connection with the Magazine in this capacity,
we find, in Boswell, another and very curious mention of Johnson as
a composer of speeches. On the 13th May, 1779, Boswell tells us
that he spent all the day with him at Streatham, when he talked a
great deal, and was in very good humour. "Looking at Messrs.
Dilly's splendid edition of Lord Chesterfield's Miscellaneous Works,"
which had been published in two quartos, 1777, he laughed, and
said, " Here, now, are two speeches ascribed to him, both of which
were written by me; and the best of it is, they have found out that
one is like Demosthenes, and the other like Cicero." This, in sub¬
stance, was the remark of Dr. Maty, who, to his fulsome " Life of
Chesterfield," subjoined remarks on the various miscellanies of the
collection. Johnson, as we see, claimed only two out of the three
speeches which Maty selects as specimens of Chesterfield's eloquence
—the first " in the strong nervous style of Demosthenes, the two latter
in the witty, ironical manner of Tully." But Mr. Croker, wiser than
Johnson, asserts that all three speeches were certainly Johnson's com¬
position. But the first of the three—Speech on the Licensing Bill,
or, as it is called in the Parliamentary debates, the Playhouse Bill—
is not Johnson's, but Chesterfield's. It is, we suppose, that which
Dr. Maty considered as written " in the strong nervous style of
Demosthenes." An incorrect and defective abstract of this speech
appeared in " Fog's Journal," No. 5, in the month of August, 1737.
A fuller report, evidently drawn up by Chesterfield himself, was
sent to the two magazines, and appeared in the " Gentleman's Maga¬
zine," 1737, p. 409, and foil., and in the "London Magazine,"
1737, p. 401, and foil. These two reports are verbatim et lite¬
ratim the same; and the speech thus reported was transferred by
Maty, without any alteration, to his edition of the " Miscellaneous
Works," vol. i., p. 229, and foil. Johnson had no hand in this
admirable speech. It is remarkable, however, that shortly after
Chesterfield delivered it in the House of Lords, June, 1737, Johnson
APPENDIX.
575
wrote the most vigorous, perhaps, of all his pamphlets (published
in the year 1739), "A Complete Vindication of the Licensers of
the Stage," a fine piece of ironical reasoning, conceived very much
in the spirit of Chesterfield's arguments. The two speeches, how¬
ever, in the "witty and ironical manner of Tully" are no doubt
Johnson's. The first purports to be Lord Chesterfield's speech
on the Gin Act, Feb. 21, 1743 ("Miscellaneous Works," vol. i., p.
242, and foil.). It is the same, paragraph for paragraph, even word
for word, as that which appears in the " Gentleman's Magazine," Dec.,
1743, p. 625, and foil., and also in Stockdale's edition of Johnson's
debates, except that in Maty's version of it, there were two consider¬
able paragraphs (pp. 245, 246), the one beginning, " Luxury, my
lords, is to be taxedthe other, " We have already, my lords, several
kinds of funds," which Maty has added from the report in the
"London Magazine " for 1743, pp. 487, 488, to the version of the
speech which, in other respects, he adopted from the " Gentleman's
Magazine." The other is the second speech of Lord Chesterfield on
the Gin Act, Feb. 24, 1743 (" Miscellaneous Works," vol. i., p. 248,
and foil.), identical with Johnson's report, except that Johnson's
has a portion of the paragraph, " I cannot but sometimes wonder,"
and two short paragraphs, p. 494, which are not found in Maty. So
that, as given in Chesterfield's works, the first speech contains rather
more, and the second rather less, than Johnson's version.
During the publication of the debates, their origin and authorship
remained a secret. This, however, transpired several years after¬
wards, and was avowed by himself on the following occasion. " Mr.
Wedderburne (now Lord Loughborough), Dr. Johnson, Dr. Francis
(the translator of Horace), the present writer, Arthur Murphy, and
others, dined with the late Mr. Foote. An important debate towards
the end of Sir Robert Walpole's administration being mentioned, Dr.
Francis observed, 'That Mr. Pitt's speech, on that occasion, was the
best he had ever read.' He added,' That he had employed eight years
of his life in the study of Demosthenes, and finished a translation of
that celebrated orator, with all the decorations of style and language
within the reach of his capacity; but he had met with nothing equal
to the speech above-mentioned.' Many of the company remembered
the debate; and some passages were cited, with the approbation and
applause of all present. During the ardour of conversation Johnson
remained silent. As soon as the warmth of praise subsided, he
opened with these words: ' That speech I wrote in a garret in
Exeter-street.' The company was struck with astonishment. After
576
APPENDIX.
staring at each other in silent amaze, Dr. Francis asked, ' How that
speech could be written by him ?' ' Sir,' said Johnson,' I wrote it in
Exeter-street. I never had been in the gallery of the House of Com¬
mons but once. Cave had interest with the door-keepers. He, and
the persons employed under him, gained admittance : they brought
away the subject of discussion, the names of the speakers, the side
they took, and the order in which they rose, together with notes of
the arguments advanced in the course of the debate. The whole was
afterwards communicated to me, and I composed the speeches in the
form which they now have in the Parliamentary debates.' To this dis¬
covery Dr. Francis made answer: 'Then, Sir, you have exceeded
Demosthenes himself; for to say, that you have exceeded Francis's
Demosthenes, would be saying nothing.' The rest of the company
bestowed lavish encomiums on Johnson : one, in particular, praised
his impartiality; observing, that he dealt out reason and eloquence
with an equal hand to both parties. ' That is not quite true,' said
J ohnson; ' I saved appearances tolerably well; but I took care that
the whig dogs should not have the best of it.'"—Arthur Murphy's
Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson, p. 43-45.
But it would appear as if his conscience remained morbidly sensi¬
tive to his share in these compositions even to his last days. In a
postscript to a letter to Mr. Urban (" Gentleman's Magazine," 1784, p.
891), Mr.John Nichols gives this remarkable testimony:—"Yetsuch
was the goodness of his heart that, no longer ago than Tuesday last,
the 7th of Dec.—he died on the 13th—he declared to the writer of
these lines that those debates were the only part of his writings which
then gave him any compunction; but that at the time he wrote them
he had no conception he was imposing on the world." . . . . " He
never," the good man added, " wrote any part of his work with equal
velocity. Three columns of the Magazine in an hour was no un¬
common effort, which was faster than most persons could have trans¬
cribed that quantity. In one day in particular, and that not a very
long one, he wrote twelve pages, more than he ever wrote at any other
time, except in the ' Life of Savage,' of which forty-eight pages in
8vo were the product of one long day, including a part of the night."
APPENDIX.
5 77
THE CLUB.
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 Friday; and about that time
instead of supping they agreed to dine together once in every fortnight
during the sitting of Parliament.
In 1773, The Club, which soon after its foundation consisted of
twelve members, was enlarged to twenty; March 11, 1777^0 twenty-
six; November 27, 1778, to thirty; May 9, 1780, to thirty-five; and
it was then resolved that, it never should exceed forty.
They met originally at the "Turk's Head," in Gerrard Street, and
continued to meet there till 1783, when the landlord died, and the
house was soon afterwards shut up. They then removed to Prince's
in Sackville Street; and on his house being soon afterwards shut up,
they removed to Baxter's, which afterwards became Thomas's, in
Dover Street. In January, 1792, they removed to Parsloes, in St.
James's Street; and on February 26, 1799, to the " Thatched House,"
in the same street. The "Thatched House" having been pulled
down, The Club met, in 1863, at the "Clarendon," in Albemarle
Street, but it removed to Willis's Rooms in 1869. From the founda¬
tion to this time, the number of members has been one hundred
and eighty-four: among whom are found, omitting the mention of
living members, many illustrious historical names—of men of letters,
such as Johnson, Goldsmith, Adam Smith, Walter Scott, Sydney
Smith; of statesmen, such as Burke, C. J. Fox, Sheridan, Windham,
Canning, Mackintosh, Brougham, Russell; of historians, such as
Gibbon, Hallam, Grote, Macaulay; of artists, such as Reynolds,
Chantrey, Lawrence; of men of science, such as Davy, Wollaston,
Young, Whewell; of churchmen, such as Copleston, Wilberforce,
Stanley, Tait, besides of many eminent in social life.
At the meetings of The Club the chair is taken in rotation by the
members, according to the alphabetical arrangement of their names ;
the only permanent officer being the Treasurer.
Mr. Malone was the first treasurer, and upon his decease, in 1812,
Sir Henry Charles Englefield was elected to that office, which, how¬
ever, on account of weakness of sight, he resigned in 1814, when the
Rev. Dr. Charles Burney was chosen, and continued to be treasurer
P P
578
APPENDIX.
until his death, which took place in December, 1817, and on the 10th
of March, 1818, Mr. Hatchett was elected. On the resignation of
Mr. Hatchett, June 22nd, 1841, the Rev. H. H. Milman, afterwards
Dean of St. Paul's, was elected; and on the resignation of the Dean,
the Right Hon. Sir Edmund Head, in June, 1864. He continued
to fill the office until his death in January, 1868. At the first meet¬
ing of The Club in that year (February, 1868), Mr. Henry Reeve
was requested by The Club to succeed him.
LETTER FROM DR. JOHNSON TO
MR. BARNARD.1
" May 28, 1768.
" Sir,
" It is natural for a scholar to interest himself in an expedition,
undertaken, like yours, for the importation of literature ; and there¬
fore, though, having never travelled myself, I am very little qualified
to give advice to a traveller; yet, that I may not seem inattentive to
a design so worthy of regard, I will try whether the present state of
my health will suffer me to lay before you what observation or report
have suggested to me, that may direct your inquiries, or facilitate
your success. Things of which the mere rarity makes the value, and
which are prized at a high rate by a wantonness rather than by use,
are always passing from poorer to richer countries; and therefore,
though Germany and Italy were principally productive of typogra¬
phical curiosities, I do not much imagine that they are now to be
found there in great abundance. An eagerness for scarce books and
early editions, which prevailed among the English about half a cen¬
tury ago, filled our shops with all the splendour and nicety of litera¬
ture ; and when the Harleian Catalogue was published, many of the
books were bought for the library of the King of France.
" I believe, however, that by the diligence with which you have
enlarged the library under your care, the present stock is so nearly
1 Mr., afterwards Sir Francis, Barnard, was Librarian to King George
III. See ante, p. 441.—This is the letter which, I cannot guess why, Mr.
Barnard refused to Boswell after his Majesty had consented to its produc¬
tion.—Croker.
APPENDIX.
579
exhausted, that, till new purchases supply the booksellers with new
stores, you will not be able to do much more than glean up single
books, as accident shall produce them; this, therefore, is the time
for visiting the continent.
" What addition you can hope to make by ransacking other coun¬
tries we will now consider. English literature you will not seek in
any place but in England. Classical learning is diffused every where,
and is not, except by accident, more copious in one part of the polite
world than in another. But every country has literature of its own,
which may be best gathered in its native soil. The studies of the
learned are influenced by forms of government and modes of religion;
and, therefore, those books are necessary and common in some
places, which, where different opinions or different manners prevail,
are of little use, and for that reason rarely to be found.
" Thus in Italy you may expect to meet with canonists and scho¬
lastic divines, in Germany with writers on the feudal laws, and in
Holland with civilians. The schoolmen and canonists must not be
neglected, for they are useful to many purposes ; nor too anxiously
sought, for their influence among us is much lessened by the Refor¬
mation. Of the canonists at least a few eminent writers may be
sufficient. The schoolmen are of more general value. But the feudal
and civil law I cannot but wish to see complete. The feudal consti¬
tution is the original of the law of property, over all the civilized part
of Europe; and the civil law, as it is generally understood to include
the law of nations, may be called with great propriety a regal study.
Of these books, which have been often published, and diversified by
various modes of impression, a royal library should have at least the
most curious edition, the most splendid, and the most useful. The
most curious edition is commonly the first, and the most useful may
be expected among the last. Thus, of Tully's Offices, the edition of
Fust is the most curious, and that of Grgevius the most useful. The
most splendid the eye will discern. With the old printers you are
now become well acquainted ; if you can find any collection of their
productions to be sold, you will undoubtedly buy it; but this can
scarcely be hoped, and you must catch up single volumes where you
can find them. In every place things often occur where they are
least expected. I was shown a Welsh grammar written in Welsh,
and printed at Milan, I believe, before any grammar of that language
had been printed here. Of purchasing entire libraries, I know not
whether the inconvenience may not overbalance the advantage. Of
libraries connected with general views, one will have many books in
580
APPENDIX.
common with another. When you have bought two collections, you
will find that you have bought many books twice over, and many in
each which you have left at home, and, therefore, did not want ; and
when you have selected a small number, you will have the rest to sell
at a great loss, or to transport hither at perhaps a greater. It will
generally be more commodious to buy the few that you want, at a
price somewhat advanced, than to encumber yourself with useless
books. But libraries collected for particular studies will be very
valuable acquisitions. The collection of an eminent civilian, feudist,
or mathematician, will perhaps have very few superfluities. Topo¬
graphy or local history prevails much in many parts of the continent.
I have been told that scarcely a village of Italy wants its historian.
These books may be generally neglected, but some will deserve atten¬
tion by the celebrity of the place, the eminence of the authors, or the
beauty of the sculptures. Sculpture has always been more cultivated
among other nations than among us. The old art of cutting on wood,
which decorated the books of ancient impression, was never carried
here to any excellence; and the practice of engraving on copper,
which succeeded, has never been much employed among us in adorn¬
ing books. The old books with wooden cuts are to be diligently
sought; the designs were often made by great masters, and the prints
ate such as cannot be made by any artist now living. It will be of
great use to collect in every place maps of the adjacent country, and
plans of towns, buildings, and gardens. By this care you will form a
more valuable body of geography than can otherwise be had. Many
countries have been very exactly surveyed, but it must not be expected
that the exactness of actual mensuration will be preserved, when the
maps are reduced by a contracted scale, and incorporated into a
general system.
" The king of Sardinia's Italian dominions are not large, yet the
maps made of them in the reign of Victor fill two Atlantic folios.
This part of your design will deserve particular regard, because, in
this, your success will always be proportioned to your diligence. You
are too well acquainted with literary history not to know that many
books derive their value from the reputation of the printers. Of the
celebrated printers you do not need to be informed, and if you did,
might consult Baillet, "Jugernens des Savans." The productions of
Aldus are enumerated in the Bibliotheca Graeca, so that you may
know when you have them all; which is always of use, as it prevents
needless search. The great ornaments of a library, furnished for
magnificence as well as use, are the first editions, of which, therefore,
ArPENDIX.
581
I would not willingly neglect the mention. You know, sir, that the
annals of typography begin with the Codex, 1457 ; but there is great
reason to believe, that there are latent, in obscure corners, books
printed before it. The secular feast, in memory of the invention of
printing, is celebrated in the fortieth year of the century; if this tradi¬
tion, therefore, is right, the art had in 1457 been already exercised
nineteen years.
" There prevails among typographical antiquaries a vague opinion,
that the Bible had been printed three times before the edition of 1462,
which Calmet calls ' La premiere edition bien averee.' One of these
editions has been lately discovered in a convent, and transplanted
into the French king's library. Another copy has likewise been found,
but I know not whether of the same impression, or another. These
discoveries are sufficient to raise hope and instigate inquiry. In the
purchase of old books, let me recommend to you to inquire with great
caution, whether they are perfect. In the first edition the loss of a
leaf is not easily observed. You remember how near we both were to
purchasing a mutilated Missal at a high price.
" All this perhaps you know already, and, therefore, my letter may
be of no use. I am, however, desirous to show you, that I wish pros¬
perity to your undertaking. One advice more I will give, of more
importance than all the rest, of which I, therefore, hope you will have
still less need. You are going into a part of the world divided, as it
is said, between bigotry and atheism : such representations are always
hyperbolical, but there is certainly enough of both to alarm any mind
solicitous for piety and truth; let not the contempt of superstition
precipitate you into infidelity, or the horror of infidelity ensnare you
in superstition.—I sincerely wish you successful and happy, for I am,
Sir, &c., "Sam. Johnson."
END OF VOL. I.
CH1SWICK PRESS I C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE.
ERRATA.
Page 236, note, line 4, for first, read second.
„ 260, note 2, line 5, for 1776, read 1766.
„ 441, in Editor's note, for Mr. Ba?'nard's letter, read
The letter to Mr. Barnard.
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