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Title: Life Of Johnson, Volume 4 (of 6)

Author: Boswell

Release Date: December 1, 2003 [EBook #10357]

Language: English

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BOSWELL'S

LIFE OF JOHNSON

INCLUDING BOSWELL'S JOURNAL OF A TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES
AND JOHNSON'S DIARY OF A JOURNEY INTO NORTH WALES

EDITED BY

GEORGE BIRKBECK HILL, D.C.L.

PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD

IN SIX VOLUMES

VOLUME IV.--LIFE (1780-1784)




CONTENTS OF VOL. IV.


LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. (1780-DEC. 13, 1784)

APPENDICES:

A. ALTERCATION BETWEEN DR. JOHNSON AND DEAN BARNARD.
B. JOHNSON AND PRIESTLEY.
C. THE CLUB IN IVY-LANE.
D. THE ESSEX HEAD CLUB.
E. MISS BURNEY'S ACCOUNT OF JOHNSON'S LAST DAYS.
F. NOTES ON JOHNSON'S WILL, ETC.
G. NOTES ON BOSWELL'S NOTE.
H. NOTES ON BOSWELL'S NOTE.
I. PARR'S EPITAPH ON JOHNSON.

FOOTNOTES.




_THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D._

Being disappointed in my hopes of meeting Johnson this year, so that I
could hear none of his admirable sayings, I shall compensate for this
want[1] by inserting a collection of them, for which I am indebted to my
worthy friend Mr. Langton, whose kind communications have been
separately interwoven in many parts of this work. Very few articles of
this collection were committed to writing by himself, he not having that
habit; which he regrets, and which those who know the numerous
opportunities he had of gathering the rich fruits of _Johnsonian_ wit
and wisdom, must ever regret. I however found, in conversations with
him, that a good store of _Johnsoniana_ treasured in his mind[2]; and I
compared it to Herculaneum, or some old Roman field, which when dug,
fully rewards the labour employed. The authenticity of every article is
unquestionable. For the expression, I, who wrote them down in his
presence, am partly answerable.

'Theocritus is not deserving of very high respect as a writer; as to the
pastoral part, Virgil is very evidently superiour. He wrote when there
had been a larger influx of knowledge into the world than when
Theocritus lived. Theocritus does not abound in description, though
living in a beautiful country: the manners painted are coarse and gross.
Virgil has much more description, more sentiment, more of Nature, and
more of art. Some of the most excellent parts of Theocritus are, where
Castor and Pollux, going with the other Argonauts, land on the Bebrycian
coast, and there fall into a dispute with Amycus, the King of that
country; which is as well conducted as Euripides could have done it; and
the battle is well related. Afterwards they carry off a woman, whose two
brothers come to recover her, and expostulate with Castor and Pollux on
their injustice; but they pay no regard to the brothers, and a battle
ensues, where Castor and his brother are triumphant. Theocritus seems
not to have seen that the brothers have the advantage in their argument
over his Argonaut heroes. _The Sicilian Gossips_ is a piece of merit.'

'Callimachus is a writer of little excellence. The chief thing to be
learned from him is his account of Rites and Mythology; which, though
desirable to be known for the sake of understanding other parts of
ancient authours, is the least pleasing or valuable part of their
writings.'

'Mattaire's account of the Stephani[3] is a heavy book. He seems to have
been a puzzle-headed man, with a large share of scholarship, but with
little geometry or logick in his head, without method, and possessed of
little genius. He wrote Latin verses from time to time, and published a
set in his old age, which he called '_Senilia_;' in which he shews so
little learning or taste in writing, as to make _Carteret_ a dactyl[4].
In matters of genealogy it is necessary to give the bare names as they
are; but in poetry, and in prose of any elegance in the writing, they
require to have inflection given to them. His book of the Dialects[5] is
a sad heap of confusion; the only way to write on them is to tabulate
them with Notes, added at the bottom of the page, and references.'

'It may be questioned, whether there is not some mistake as to the
methods of employing the poor, seemingly on a supposition that there is
a certain portion of work left undone for want of persons to do it; but
if that is otherwise, and all the materials we have are actually worked
up, or all the manufactures we can use or dispose of are already
executed, then what is given to the poor, who are to be set at work,
must be taken from some who now have it; as time must be taken for
learning, according to Sir William Petty's observation, a certain part
of those very materials that, as it is, are properly worked up, must be
spoiled by the unskilfulness of novices. We may apply to well-meaning,
but misjudging persons in particulars of this nature, what Giannone[6]
said to a monk, who wanted what he called to _convert_ him: _"Tu sei
santo, ma tu non sei filosofo"_--It is an unhappy circumstance that one
might give away five hundred pounds in a year to those that importune in
the streets, and not do any good[7].'

'There is nothing more likely to betray a man into absurdity than
_condescension_; when he seems to suppose his understanding too powerful
for his company[8].'

'Having asked Mr. Langton if his father and mother had sat for their
pictures, which he thought it right for each generation of a family to
do, and being told they had opposed it, he said, "Sir, among the
anfractuosities[9] of the human mind, I know not if it may not be one,
that there is a superstitious reluctance to sit for a picture."'

'John Gilbert Cooper[10] related, that soon after the publication of his
_Dictionary_, Garrick being asked by Johnson what people said of it,
told him, that among other animadversions, it was objected that he cited
authorities which were beneath the dignity of such a work, and mentioned
Richardson. "Nay, (said Johnson,) I have done worse than that: I have
cited _thee_, David[11]."'

'Talking of expence, he observed, with what munificence a great merchant
will spend his money, both from his having it at command, and from his
enlarged views by calculation of a good effect upon the whole. "Whereas
(said he) you will hardly ever find a country gentleman who is not a
good deal disconcerted at an unexpected occasion for his being obliged
to lay out ten pounds[12]."'

'When in good humour he would talk of his own writings with a wonderful
frankness and candour, and would even criticise them with the closest
severity. One day, having read over one of his Ramblers, Mr. Langton
asked him, how he liked that paper; he shook his head, and answered,
"too wordy." At another time, when one was reading his tragedy of
_Irene_ to a company at a house in the country, he left the room; and
somebody having asked him the reason of this, he replied, Sir, I thought
it had been better[13].'

'Talking of a point of delicate scrupulosity[14] of moral conduct, he
said to Mr. Langton, "Men of harder minds than ours will do many things
from which you and I would shrink; yet, Sir, they will perhaps do more
good in life than we. But let us try to help one another. If there be a
wrong twist it may be set right. It is not probable that two people can
be wrong the same way."'

'Of the Preface to Capel's _Shakspeare_, he said, "If the man would have
come to me, I would have endeavoured to endow his purposes with words;
for as it is, he doth gabble monstrously[15]."'

'He related, that he had once in a dream a contest of wit with some
other person, and that he was very much mortified by imagining that his
opponent had the better of him. "Now, (said he,) one may mark here the
effect of sleep in weakening the power of reflection; for had not my
judgement failed me, I should have seen, that the wit of this supposed
antagonist, by whose superiority I felt myself depressed, was as much
furnished by me, as that which I thought I had been uttering in my own
character."'

'One evening in company, an ingenious and learned gentleman read to him
a letter of compliment which he had received from one of the Professors
of a foreign University. Johnson, in an irritable fit, thinking there
was too much ostentation, said, "I never receive any of these tributes
of applause from abroad. One instance I recollect of a foreign
publication, in which mention is made of _l'illustre Lockman_[16]."'

'Of Sir Joshua Reynolds, he said, "Sir, I know no man who has passed
through life with more observation than Reynolds."'

'He repeated to Mr. Langton, with great energy, in the Greek, our
SAVIOUR'S gracious expression concerning the forgiveness of Mary
Magdalen, "[Greek: Ae pistis sou sesoke se poreuou eis eiraeuaeu.] Thy
faith hath saved thee; go in peace[17]." He said, "the manner of this
dismission is exceedingly affecting."'

'He thus defined the difference between physical and moral truth;
"Physical truth, is, when you tell a thing as it actually is. Moral
truth, is, when you tell a thing sincerely and precisely as it appears
to you. I say such a one walked across the street; if he really did so,
I told a physical truth. If I thought so, though I should have been
mistaken, I told a moral truth."'

'Huggins, the translator of Ariosto, and Mr. Thomas Warton, in the early
part of his literary life, had a dispute concerning that poet, of whom
Mr. Warton in his _Observations on Spenser's Fairy Queen_, gave some
account, which Huggins attempted to answer with violence, and said, "I
will _militate_ no longer against his _nescience_." Huggins was master
of the subject, but wanted expression. Mr. Warton's knowledge of it was
then imperfect, but his manner lively and elegant[18]. Johnson said, "It
appears to me, that Huggins has ball without powder, and Warton powder
without ball."'

'Talking of the Farce of _High Life below Stairs_[19], he said, "Here is
a Farce, which is really very diverting when you see it acted; and yet
one may read it, and not know that one has been reading any thing
at all."'

'He used at one time to go occasionally to the green room of Drury-lane
Theatre[20], where he was much regarded by the players, and was very
easy and facetious with them. He had a very high opinion of Mrs. Clive's
comick powers, and conversed more with her than with any of them. He
said, "Clive, Sir, is a good thing to sit by; she always understands
what you say[21]." And she said of him, "I love to sit by Dr. Johnson;
he always entertains me." One night, when _The Recruiting Officer_ was
acted, he said to Mr. Holland[22], who had been expressing an
apprehension that Dr. Johnson would disdain the works of Farquhar; "No,
Sir, I think Farquhar a man whose writings have considerable merit."'

'His friend Garrick was so busy in conducting the drama, that they could
not have so much intercourse as Mr. Garrick used to profess an anxious
wish that there should be[23]. There might, indeed, be something in the
contemptuous severity as to the merit of acting, which his old preceptor
nourished in himself, that would mortify Garrick after the great
applause which he received from the audience. For though Johnson said of
him, "Sir, a man who has a nation to admire him every night, may well be
expected to be somewhat elated[24];" yet he would treat theatrical
matters with a ludicrous slight. He mentioned one evening, "I met David
coming off the stage, drest in a woman's riding-hood, when he acted in
_The Wonder_[25]; I came full upon him, and I believe he was not
pleased."'

'Once he asked Tom Davies, whom he saw drest in a fine suit of clothes,
"And what art thou to-night?" Tom answered, "The Thane of Ross[26];"
(which it will be recollected is a very inconsiderable character.) "O
brave!" said Johnson.'

'Of Mr. Longley, at Rochester, a gentleman of very considerable
learning, whom Dr. Johnson met there, he said, "My heart warms towards
him. I was surprised to find in him such a nice acquaintance with the
metre in the learned languages; though I was somewhat mortified that I
had it not so much to myself, as I should have thought[27]."'

'Talking of the minuteness with which people will record the sayings of
eminent persons, a story was told, that when Pope was on a visit to
Spence[28] at Oxford, as they looked from the window they saw a
Gentleman Commoner, who was just come in from riding, amusing himself
with whipping at a post. Pope took occasion to say, "That young
gentleman seems to have little to do." Mr. Beauclerk observed, "Then, to
be sure, Spence turned round and wrote that down;" and went on to say to
Dr. Johnson, "Pope, Sir, would have said the same of you, if he had seen
you distilling[29]." JOHNSON. "Sir, if Pope had told me of my
distilling, I would have told him of his grotto[30]."'

'He would allow no settled indulgence of idleness upon principle, and
always repelled every attempt to urge excuses for it, A friend one day
suggested, that it was not wholesome to study soon after dinner.
JOHNSON. "Ah, Sir, don't give way to such a fancy. At one time of my
life I had taken it into my head that it was not wholesome to study
between breakfast and dinner[31]."'

'Mr. Beauclerk one day repeated to Dr. Johnson Pope's lines,

     "Let modest Foster, if he will, excel
      Ten metropolitans in preaching well:" [32]

Then asked the Doctor, "Why did Pope say this?" JOHNSON. 'Sir, he hoped
it would vex somebody.'

'Dr. Goldsmith, upon occasion of Mrs. Lennox's bringing out a play[33],
said to Dr. Johnson at the CLUB, that a person had advised him to go and
hiss it, because she had attacked Shakspeare in her book called
_Shakspeare Illustrated_[34]. JOHNSON. "And did not you tell him he was
a rascal[35]?" GOLDSMITH. "No, Sir, I did not. Perhaps he might not mean
what he said." JOHNSON. "Nay, Sir, if he lied, it is a different thing."
Colman slily said, (but it is believed Dr. Johnson did not hear him,)
"Then the proper expression should have been,--Sir, if you don't lie,
you're a rascal."'

'His affection for Topham Beauclerk was so great, that when Beauclerk
was labouring under that severe illness which at last occasioned his
death, Johnson said, (with a voice faultering with emotion,) "Sir, I
would walk to the extent of the diameter of the earth to save
Beauclerk[36]."'

'One night at the CLUB he produced a translation of an Epitaph which
Lord Elibank had written in English, for his Lady, and requested of
Johnson to turn into Latin for him. Having read _Domina de North et
Gray_, he said to Dyer, "You see, Sir, what barbarisms we are compelled
to make use of, when modern titles are to be specifically mentioned in
Latin inscriptions." When he had read it once aloud, and there had been
a general approbation expressed by the company, he addressed himself to
Mr. Dyer in particular, and said, "Sir, I beg to have your judgement,
for I know your nicety[37]." Dyer then very properly desired to read it
over again; which having done, he pointed out an incongruity in one of
the sentences. Johnson immediately assented to the observation, and
said, "Sir, this is owing to an alteration of a part of the sentence,
from the form in which I had first written it; and I believe, Sir, you
may have remarked, that the making a partial change, without a due
regard to the general structure of the sentence, is a very frequent
cause of errour in composition."'

'Johnson was well acquainted with Mr. Dossie, authour of a treatise on
Agriculture[38]; and said of him, "Sir, of the objects which the Society
of Arts have chiefly in view, the chymical effects of bodies operating
upon other bodies, he knows more than almost any man." Johnson, in order
to give Mr. Dossie his vote to be a member of this Society, paid up an
arrear which had run on for two years. On this occasion he mentioned a
circumstance as characteristick of the Scotch. One of that nation, (said
he,) who had been a candidate, against whom I had voted, came up to me
with a civil salutation. Now, Sir, this is their way. An Englishman
would have stomached it, and been sulky, and never have taken further
notice of you; but a Scotchman, Sir, though you vote nineteen times
against him, will accost you with equal complaisance after each time,
and the twentieth time, Sir, he will get your vote.'

'Talking on the subject of toleration, one day when some friends were
with him in his study, he made his usual remark, that the State has a
right to regulate the religion of the people, who are the children of
the State[39]. A clergyman having readily acquiesced in this, Johnson,
who loved discussion, observed, "But, Sir, you must go round to other
States than our own. You do not know what a Bramin has to say for
himself[40]. In short, Sir, I have got no further than this: Every man
has a right to utter what he thinks truth, and every other man has a
right to knock him down for it. Martyrdom is the test[41]."'

'A man, he observed, should begin to write soon; for, if he waits till
his judgement is matured, his inability, through want of practice to
express his conceptions, will make the disproportion so great between
what he sees, and what he can attain, that he will probably be
discouraged from writing at all[42]. As a proof of the justness of this
remark, we may instance what is related of the great Lord Granville[43];
that after he had written his letter, giving an account of the battle of
Dettingen, he said, "Here is a letter, expressed in terms not good
enough for a tallow-chandler to have used.'"

'Talking of a Court-martial that was sitting upon a very momentous
publick occasion, he expressed much doubt of an enlightened decision;
and said, that perhaps there was not a member of it, who in the whole
course of his life, had ever spent an hour by himself in balancing
probabilities[44].'

'Goldsmith one day brought to the CLUB a printed Ode, which he, with
others, had been hearing read by its authour in a publick room at the
rate of five shillings each for admission[45]. One of the company having
read it aloud, Dr. Johnson said, "Bolder words and more timorous
meaning, I think never were brought together."'

'Talking of Gray's _Odes_, he said, "They are forced plants raised in a
hot-bed[46]; and they are poor plants; they are but cucumbers after
all." A gentleman present, who had been running down Ode-writing in
general, as a bad species of poetry, unluckily said, "Had they been
literally cucumbers, they had been better things than Odes."--"Yes, Sir,
(said Johnson,) for a _hog_."'

'His distinction of the different degrees of attainment of learning was
thus marked upon two occasions. Of Queen Elizabeth he said, "She had
learning enough to have given dignity to a bishop;" and of Mr. Thomas
Davies he said, "Sir, Davies has learning enough to give credit to a
clergyman[47]."'

'He used to quote, with great warmth, the saying of Aristotle recorded
by Diogenes Laertius[48]; that there was the same difference between one
learned and unlearned, as between the living and the dead.'

'It is very remarkable, that he retained in his memory very slight and
trivial, as well as important things[49]. As an instance of this, it
seems that an inferiour domestick of the Duke of Leeds had attempted to
celebrate his Grace's marriage in such homely rhimes as he could make;
and this curious composition having been sung to Dr. Johnson he got it
by heart, and used to repeat it in a very pleasant manner. Two of the
stanzas were these:--

     "When the Duke of Leeds shall married be
      To a fine young lady of high quality,
      How happy will that gentlewoman be
      In his Grace of Leeds's good company.

      She shall have all that's fine and fair,
      And the best of silk and sattin shall wear;
      And ride in a coach to take the air,
      And have a house in St. James's-square[50]."

To hear a man, of the weight and dignity of Johnson, repeating such
humble attempts at poetry, had a very amusing effect. He, however,
seriously observed of the last stanza repeated by him, that it nearly
comprized all the advantages that wealth can give.'

'An eminent foreigner, when he was shewn the British Museum, was very
troublesome with many absurd inquiries. "Now there, Sir, (said he,) is
the difference between an Englishman and a Frenchman. A Frenchman must
be always talking, whether he knows any thing of the matter or not; an
Englishman is content to say nothing, when he has nothing to say."'

'His unjust contempt for foreigners was, indeed, extreme. One evening,
at old Slaughter's coffee-house[51], when a number of them were talking
loud about little matters, he said, "Does not this confirm old
Meynell's[52] observation--_For any thing I see, foreigners are
fools_[53]."'

'He said, that once, when he had a violent tooth-ach, a Frenchman
accosted him thus:--_Ah, Monsieur vous etudiez trop_[54].'

'Having spent an evening at Mr. Langton's with the Reverend Dr. Parr, he
was much pleased with the conversation of that learned gentleman; and
after he was gone, said to Mr. Langton, "Sir, I am obliged to you for
having asked me this evening. Parr is a fair man. I do not know when I
have had an occasion of such free controversy. It is remarkable how much
of a man's life may pass without meeting with any instance of this kind
of open discussion[55]."'

'We may fairly institute a criticism between Shakspeare and
Corneille[56], as they both had, though in a different degree, the
lights of a latter age. It is not so just between the Greek dramatick
writers and Shakspeare. It may be replied to what is said by one of the
remarkers on Shakspeare, that though Darius's shade[57] had
_prescience_, it does not necessarily follow that he had all _past_
particulars revealed to him.'

'Spanish plays, being wildly and improbably farcical, would please
children here, as children are entertained with stories full of
prodigies; their experience not being sufficient to cause them to be so
readily startled at deviations from the natural course of life[58]. The
machinery of the Pagans is uninteresting to us[59]: when a Goddess
appears in Homer or Virgil, we grow weary; still more so in the Grecian
tragedies, as in that kind of composition a nearer approach to Nature is
intended. Yet there are good reasons for reading romances; as--the
fertility of invention, the beauty of style and expression, the
curiosity of seeing with what kind of performances the age and country
in which they were written was delighted: for it is to be apprehended,
that at the time when very wild improbable tales were well received, the
people were in a barbarous state, and so on the footing of children, as
has been explained.'

'It is evident enough that no one who writes now can use the Pagan
deities and mythology; the only machinery, therefore, seems that of
ministering spirits, the ghosts of the departed, witches[60], and
fairies, though these latter, as the vulgar superstition concerning them
(which, while in its force, infected at least the imagination of those
that had more advantage in education, though their reason set them free
from it,) is every day wearing out, seem likely to be of little further
assistance in the machinery of poetry. As I recollect, Hammond
introduces a hag or witch into one of his love elegies, where the effect
is unmeaning and disgusting[61].'

'The man who uses his talent of ridicule in creating or grossly
exaggerating the instances he gives, who imputes absurdities that did
not happen, or when a man was a little ridiculous describes him as
having been very much so, abuses his talents greatly. The great use of
delineating absurdities is, that we may know how far human folly can go;
the account, therefore, ought of absolute necessity to be faithful. A
certain character (naming the person) as to the general cast of it, is
well described by Garrick, but a great deal of the phraseology he uses
in it, is quite his own, particularly in the proverbial comparisons,
"obstinate as a pig," &c., but I don't know whether it might not be true
of Lord ------[62], that from a too great eagerness of praise and
popularity, and a politeness carried to a ridiculous excess, he was
likely, after asserting a thing in general, to give it up again in
parts. For instance, if he had said Reynolds was the first of painters,
he was capable enough of giving up, as objections might happen to be
severally made, first his outline,--then the grace in form,--then the
colouring,--and lastly, to have owned that he was such a mannerist, that
the disposition of his pictures was all alike.'

'For hospitality, as formerly practised, there is no longer the same
reason; heretofore the poorer people were more numerous, and from want
of commerce, their means of getting a livelihood more difficult;
therefore the supporting them was an act of great benevolence; now that
the poor can find maintenance for themselves, and their labour is
wanted, a general undiscerning hospitality tends to ill, by withdrawing
them from their work to idleness and drunkenness. Then, formerly rents
were received in kind, so that there was a great abundance of provisions
in possession of the owners of the lands, which, since the plenty of
money afforded by commerce, is no longer the case.'

'Hospitality to strangers and foreigners in our country is now almost at
an end, since, from the increase of them that come to us, there have
been a sufficient number of people that have found an interest in
providing inns and proper accommodations, which is in general a more
expedient method for the entertainment of travellers. Where the
travellers and strangers are few, more of that hospitality subsists, as
it has not been worth while to provide places of accommodation. In
Ireland there is still hospitality to strangers, in some degree; in
Hungary and Poland probably more.'

'Colman, in a note on his translation of _Terence_, talking of
Shakspeare's learning, asks, "What says Farmer to this? What says
Johnson[63]?" Upon this he observed, "Sir, let Farmer answer for
himself: _I_ never engaged in this controversy. I always said,
Shakspeare had Latin enough to grammaticise his English[64]."'

'A clergyman, whom he characterised as one who loved to say little
oddities, was affecting one day, at a Bishop's table, a sort of slyness
and freedom not in character, and repeated, as if part of _The Old Mans
Wish_, a song by Dr. Walter Pope, a verse bordering on licentiousness.
Johnson rebuked him in the finest manner, by first shewing him that he
did not know the passage he was aiming at, and thus humbling him: "Sir,
that is not the song: it is thus." And he gave it right. Then looking
stedfastly on him, "Sir, there is a part of that song which I should
wish to exemplify in my own life:--

"May I govern my passions with absolute sway[65]!"'

'Being asked if Barnes knew a good deal of Greek, he answered, "I doubt,
Sir, he was _unoculus inter caecos[66]_."'

'He used frequently to observe, that men might be very eminent in a
profession, without our perceiving any particular power of mind in them
in conversation. "It seems strange (said he) that a man should see so
far to the right, who sees so short a way to the left. Burke is the only
man whose common conversation corresponds with the general fame which
he has in the world. Take up whatever topick you please, he is ready to
meet you[67]."'

'A gentleman, by no means deficient in literature, having discovered
less acquaintance with one of the Classicks than Johnson expected, when
the gentleman left the room, he observed, "You see, now, how little any
body reads." Mr. Langton happening to mention his having read a good
deal in Clenardus's _Greek Grammar_, "Why, Sir, (said he,) who is there
in this town who knows any thing of Clenardus but you and I?" And upon
Mr. Langton's mentioning that he had taken the pains to learn by heart
the Epistle of St. Basil, which is given in that Grammar as a praxis,
"Sir, (said he,) I never made such an effort to attain Greek[68]."'

'Of Dodsley's _Publick Virtue, a Poem_, he said, "It was fine _blank_
(meaning to express his usual contempt for blank verse[69]); however,
this miserable poem did not sell, and my poor friend Doddy said, Publick
Virtue was not a subject to interest the age."'

'Mr. Langton, when a very young man, read Dodsley's _Cleone a
Tragedy_[70], to him, not aware of his extreme impatience to be read to.
As it went on he turned his face to the back of his chair, and put
himself into various attitudes, which marked his uneasiness. At the end
of an act, however, he said, "Come let's have some more, let's go into
the slaughter-house again, Lanky. But I am afraid there is more blood
than brains." Yet he afterwards said, "When I heard you read it, I
thought higher of its power of language: when I read it myself, I was
more sensible of its pathetick effect;" and then he paid it a compliment
which many will think very extravagant. "Sir, (said he,) if Otway had
written this play, no other of his pieces would have been remembered."
Dodsley himself, upon this being repeated to him, said, "It was too
much:" it must be remembered, that Johnson always appeared not to be
sufficiently sensible of the merit of Otway[71].'

'Snatches of reading (said he) will not make a Bentley or a Clarke. They
are, however, in a certain degree advantageous. I would put a child into
a library (where no unfit books are) and let him read at his choice. A
child should not be discouraged from reading any thing that he takes a
liking to, from a notion that it is above his reach. If that be the
case, the child will soon find it out and desist; if not, he of course
gains the instruction; which is so much the more likely to come, from
the inclination with which he takes up the study[72].'

'Though he used to censure carelessness with great vehemence, he owned,
that he once, to avoid the trouble of locking up five guineas, hid them,
he forgot where, so that he could not find them.'

'A gentleman who introduced his brother to Dr. Johnson was earnest to
recommend him to the Doctor's notice, which he did by saying, "When we
have sat together some time, you'll find my brother grow very
entertaining."--"Sir, (said Johnson,) I can wait."'

'When the rumour was strong that we should have a war, because the
French would assist the Americans, he rebuked a friend with some
asperity for supposing it, saying, "No, Sir, national faith is not yet
sunk so low."'

'In the latter part of his life, in order to satisfy himself whether his
mental faculties were impaired, he resolved that he would try to learn a
new language, and fixed upon the Low Dutch, for that purpose, and this
he continued till he had read about one half of _Thomas a Kempis_; and
finding that there appeared no abatement of his power of acquisition, he
then desisted, as thinking the experiment had been duly tried[73]. Mr.
Burke justly observed, that this was not the most vigorous trial, Low
Dutch being a language so near to our own; had it been one of the
languages entirely different, he might have been very soon satisfied.'

'Mr. Langton and he having gone to see a Freemason's funeral procession,
when they were at Rochester[74], and some solemn musick being played on
French horns, he said, "This is the first time that I have ever been
affected by musical sounds;" adding, "that the impression made upon him
was of a melancholy kind." Mr. Langton saying, that this effect was a
fine one,--JOHNSON. "Yes, if it softens the mind, so as to prepare it
for the reception of salutary feelings, it may be good: but inasmuch as
it is melancholy _per se_, it is bad[75]."'

'Goldsmith had long a visionary project, that some time or other when
his circumstances should be easier, he would go to Aleppo, in order to
acquire a knowledge as far as might be of any arts peculiar to the East,
and introduce them into Britain. When this was talked of in Dr.
Johnson's company, he said, "Of all men Goldsmith is the most unfit to
go out upon such an inquiry; for he is utterly ignorant of such arts as
we already possess, and consequently could not know what would be
accessions to our present stock of mechanical knowledge. Sir, he would
bring home a grinding barrow, which you see in every street in London,
and think that he had furnished a wonderful improvement[76]."'

'Greek, Sir, (said he,) is like lace; every man gets as much of it as he
can[77].'

'When Lord Charles Hay[78], after his return from America, was preparing
his defence to be offered to the Court-Martial which he had demanded,
having heard Mr. Langton as high in expressions of admiration of
Johnson, as he usually was, he requested that Dr. Johnson might be
introduced to him; and Mr. Langton having mentioned it to Johnson, he
very kindly and readily agreed; and being presented by Mr. Langton to
his Lordship, while under arrest, he saw him several times; upon one of
which occasions Lord Charles read to him what he had prepared, which
Johnson signified his approbation of, saying, "It is a very good
soldierly defence." Johnson said, that he had advised his Lordship, that
as it was in vain to contend with those who were in possession of power,
if they would offer him the rank of Lieutenant-General, and a
government, it would be better judged to desist from urging his
complaints. It is well known that his Lordship died before the sentence
was made known.'

'Johnson one day gave high praise to Dr. Bentley's verses[79] in
Dodsley's _Collection_, which he recited with his usual energy. Dr. Adam
Smith, who was present, observed in his decisive professorial manner,
"Very well--Very well." Johnson however added, "Yes, they _are_ very
well, Sir; but you may observe in what manner they are well. They are
the forcible verses of a man of a strong mind, but not accustomed to
write verse[80]; for there is some uncouthness in the expression[81]."'

'Drinking tea one day at Garrick's with Mr. Langton, he was questioned
if he was not somewhat of a heretick as to Shakspeare; said Garrick, "I
doubt he is a little of an infidel[82]."--"Sir, (said Johnson) I will
stand by the lines I have written on Shakspeare in my Prologue at the
opening of your Theatre[83]." Mr. Langton suggested, that in the line

     "And panting Time toil'd after him in vain,"

Johnson might have had in his eye the passage in _The Tempest_, where
Prospero says of Miranda,

     "-------She will outstrip all praise,
      And make it halt behind her[84]."

Johnson said nothing. Garrick then ventured to observe, "I do not think
that the happiest line in the praise of Shakspeare." Johnson exclaimed
(smiling,) "Prosaical rogues! next time I write, I'll make both time and
space pant[85]."'

'It is well known that there was formerly a rude custom for those who
were sailing upon the Thames, to accost each other as they passed, in
the most abusive language they could invent, generally, however, with as
much satirical humour as they were capable of producing. Addison gives a
specimen of this ribaldry, in Number 383 of _The Spectator_, when Sir
Roger de Coverly and he are going to Spring-garden[86]. Johnson was once
eminently successful in this species of contest; a fellow having
attacked him with some coarse raillery, Johnson answered him thus, "Sir,
your wife, _under pretence of keeping a bawdy-house_, is a receiver of
stolen goods[87]." One evening when he and Mr. Burke and Mr. Langton
were in company together, and the admirable scolding of Timon of Athens
was mentioned, this instance of Johnson's was quoted, and thought to
have at least equal excellence.'

'As Johnson always allowed the extraordinary talents of Mr. Burke, so
Mr. Burke was fully sensible of the wonderful powers of Johnson. Mr.
Langton recollects having passed an evening with both of them, when Mr.
Burke repeatedly entered upon topicks which it was evident he would have
illustrated with extensive knowledge and richness of expression; but
Johnson always seized upon the conversation, in which, however, he
acquitted himself in a most masterly manner. As Mr. Burke and Mr.
Langton were walking home, Mr. Burke observed that Johnson had been very
great that night; Mr. Langton joined in this, but added, he could have
wished to hear more from another person; (plainly intimating that he
meant Mr. Burke.) "O, no (said Mr. Burke) it is enough for me to have
rung the bell to him[88]."'

'Beauclerk having observed to him of one of their friends, that he was
aukward at counting money, "Why, Sir, said Johnson, I am likewise
aukward at counting money. But then, Sir, the reason is plain; I have
had very little money to count."'

'He had an abhorrence of affectation[89]. Talking of old Mr. Langton, of
whom he said, "Sir, you will seldom see such a gentleman, such are his
stores of literature, such his knowledge in divinity, and such his
exemplary life;" he added, "and Sir, he has no grimace, no
gesticulation, no bursts of admiration on trivial occasions; he never
embraces you with an overacted cordiality[90]."'

'Being in company with a gentleman who thought fit to maintain Dr.
Berkeley's ingenious philosophy, that nothing exists but as perceived by
some mind[91]; when the gentleman was going away, Johnson said to him,
"Pray, Sir, don't leave us; for we may perhaps forget to think of you,
and then you will cease to exist[92]."'

'Goldsmith, upon being visited by Johnson one day in the Temple, said to
him with a little jealousy of the appearance of his accommodation, "I
shall soon be in better chambers than these." Johnson at the same time
checked him and paid him a handsome compliment, implying that a man of
his talents should be above attention to such distinctions,--'Nay, Sir,
never mind that. _Nil te quaesiveris extra_[93].'

'At the time when his pension was granted to him, he said, with a noble
literary ambition, "Had this happened twenty years years ago, I should
have gone to Constantinople to learn Arabick, as Pococke did[94]."'

'As an instance of the niceness of his taste, though he praised West's
translation of Pindar, he pointed out the following passage as faulty,
by expressing a circumstance so minute as to detract from the general
dignity which should prevail:

     "Down then from thy glittering nail,
      Take, O Muse, thy Dorian _lyre_[95].'"

'When Mr. Vesey[96] was proposed as a member of the LITERARY CLUB, Mr.
Burke began by saying that he was a man of gentle manners. "Sir, said
Johnson, you need say no more. When you have said a man of gentle
manners; you have said enough."'

'The late Mr. Fitzherbert[97] told Mr. Langton that Johnson said to him,
"Sir, a man has no more right to _say_ an uncivil thing, than to _act_
one; no more right to say a rude thing to another than to knock
him down."'

'My dear friend Dr. Bathurst[98], (said he with a warmth of approbation)
declared he was glad that his father, who was a West-Indian planter, had
left his affairs in total ruin, because having no estate, he was not
under the temptation of having slaves.'

'Richardson had little conversation[99], except about his own works, of
which Sir Joshua Reynolds said he was always willing to talk, and glad
to have them introduced. Johnson when he carried Mr. Langton to see him,
professed that he could bring him out into conversation, and used this
allusive expression, "Sir, I can make him _rear._" But he failed; for in
that interview Richardson said little else than that there lay in the
room a translation of his _Clarissa_ into German[100].'

'Once when somebody produced a newspaper in which there was a letter of
stupid abuse of Sir Joshua Reynolds, of which Johnson himself came in
for a share,--"Pray," said he, "let us have it read aloud from beginning
to end;" which being done, he with a ludicrous earnestness, and not
directing his look to any particular person, called out, "Are we alive
after all this satire!"'

'He had a strong prejudice against the political character of
Seeker[101], one instance of which appeared at Oxford, where he
expressed great dissatisfaction at his varying the old established
toast, "Church and King." "The Archbishop of Canterbury, said he (with
an affected smooth smiling grimace) drinks,' Constitution in Church and
State.'" Being asked what difference there was between the two toasts,
he said, "Why, Sir, you may be sure he meant something." Yet when the
life of that prelate, prefixed to his sermons by Dr. Porteus and Dr.
Stinton his chaplains, first came out, he read it with the utmost
avidity, and said, "It is a life well written, and that well deserves to
be recorded."'

'Of a certain noble Lord, he said, "Respect him, you could not; for he
had no mind of his own. Love him you could not; for that which you could
do with him, every one else could[102]."'

'Of Dr. Goldsmith he said, "No man was more foolish when he had not a
pen in his hand, or more wise when he had[103]."'

'He told in his lively manner the following literary anecdote: "Green
and Guthrie[104], an Irishman and a Scotchman, undertook a translation
of Duhalde's _History of China_. Green said of Guthrie, that he knew no
English, and Guthrie of Green, that he knew no French; and these two
undertook to translate Duhalde's _History of China_. In this translation
there was found 'the twenty-sixth day of the new moon.' Now as the whole
age of the moon is but twenty-eight days, the moon instead of being new,
was nearly as old as it could be. Their blunder arose from their
mistaking the word _neuvieme_ ninth, for _nouvelle_ or _neuve_, new."'

'Talking of Dr. Blagden's copiousness and precision of communication,
Dr. Johnson said, "Blagden, Sir, is a delightful fellow[105]."'

'On occasion of Dr. Johnson's publishing his pamphlet of _The False
Alarm_[106], there came out a very angry answer (by many supposed to be
by Mr. Wilkes). Dr. Johnson determined on not answering it; but, in
conversation with Mr. Langton, mentioned a particular or two, which if
he _had_ replied to it, he might perhaps have inserted. In the
answerer's pamphlet, it had been said with solemnity, "Do you consider,
Sir, that a House of Commons is to the people as a Creature is to its
Creator[107]?" To this question, said Dr. Johnson, I could have replied,
that--in the first place--the idea of a CREATOR must be such as that he
has a power to unmake or annihilate his creature.'

'Then it cannot be conceived that a creature can make laws for its
CREATOR[108].'

'Depend upon it, said he, that if a man _talks_ of his misfortunes,
there is something in them that is not disagreeable to him; for where
there is nothing but pure misery, there never is any recourse to the
mention of it[109].'

'A man must be a poor beast that should _read_ no more in quantity than
he could _utter_ aloud.'

'Imlac in _Rasselas_, I spelt with a _c_ at the end, because it is less
like English, which should always have the Saxon _k_ added to the
_c_[110].'

'Many a man is mad in certain instances, and goes through life without
having it perceived[111]: for example, a madness has seized a person of
supposing himself obliged literally to pray continually[112]--had the
madness turned the opposite way and the person thought it a crime ever
to pray, it might not improbably have continued unobserved.'

'He apprehended that the delineation of _characters_ in the end of the
first Book of the _Retreat of the Ten Thousand_ was the first instance
of the kind that was known.'

'Supposing (said he) a wife to be of a studious or argumentative turn,
it would be very troublesome[113]: for instance,--if a woman should
continually dwell upon the subject of the Arian heresy.'

'No man speaks concerning another, even suppose it be in his praise, if
he thinks he does not hear him, exactly as he would, if he thought he
was within hearing.'

'The applause of a single human being is of great consequence[114]: This
he said to me with great earnestness of manner, very near the time of
his decease, on occasion of having desired me to read a letter addressed
to him from some person in the North of England; which when I had done,
and he asked me what the contents were, as I thought being particular
upon it might fatigue him, it being of great length, I only told him in
general that it was highly in his praise;--and then he expressed himself
as above.'

'He mentioned with an air of satisfaction what Baretti had told him;
that, meeting, in the course of his studying English, with an excellent
paper in the _Spectator_, one of four[115] that were written by the
respectable Dissenting Minister, Mr. Grove of Taunton, and observing the
genius and energy of mind that it exhibits, it greatly quickened his
curiosity to visit our country; as he thought if such were the lighter
periodical essays of our authours, their productions on more weighty
occasions must be wonderful indeed!'

'He observed once, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, that a beggar in the street
will more readily ask alms from a _man_, though there should be no marks
of wealth in his appearance, than from even a well-dressed woman[116];
which he accounted for from the greater degree of carefulness as to
money that is to be found in women; saying farther upon it, that the
opportunities in general that they possess of improving their condition
are much fewer than men have; and adding, as he looked round the
company, which consisted of men only,--there is not one of us who does
not think he might be richer if he would use his endeavour.'

'He thus characterised an ingenious writer of his acquaintance: "Sir, he
is an enthusiast by rule[117]."'

'_He may hold up that SHIELD against all his enemies_;'--was an
observation on Homer, in reference to his description of the shield of
Achilles, made by Mrs. Fitzherbert, wife to his friend Mr. Fitzherbert
of Derbyshire, and respected by Dr. Johnson as a very fine one[118]. He
had in general a very high opinion of that lady's understanding.'

'An observation of Bathurst's may be mentioned, which Johnson repeated,
appearing to acknowledge it to be well founded, namely, it was somewhat
remarkable how seldom, on occasion of coming into the company of any new
person, one felt any wish or inclination to see him again[119].'

This year the Reverend Dr. Franklin[120] having published a translation
of _Lucian_, inscribed to him the _Demonax_ thus:--

'To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON, the Demonax of the present age, this piece is
inscribed by a sincere admirer of his respectable[121] talents,

'THE TRANSLATOR.'

Though upon a particular comparison of Demonax and Johnson, there does
not seem to be a great deal of similarity between them, this Dedication
is a just compliment from the general character given by Lucian of the
ancient Sage, '[Greek: ariston on oida ego philosophon genomenon], the
best philosopher whom I have ever seen or known.'

1781: AETAT. 72.--In 1781 Johnson at last completed his _Lives of the
Poets_, of which he gives this account: 'Some time in March I finished
the _Lives of the Poets_, which I wrote in my usual way, dilatorily and
hastily, unwilling to work, and working with vigour and haste[122].' In
a memorandum previous to this, he says of them: 'Written, I hope, in
such a manner as may tend to the promotion of piety[123].'

This is the work which of all Dr. Johnson's writings will perhaps be
read most generally, and with most pleasure. Philology and
biography[124] were his favourite pursuits, and those who lived most in
intimacy with him, heard him upon all occasions, when there was a proper
opportunity, take delight in expatiating upon the various merits of the
English Poets: upon the niceties of their characters, and the events of
their progress through the world which they contributed to illuminate.
His mind was so full of that kind of information, and it was so well
arranged in his memory, that in performing what he had undertaken in
this way, he had little more to do than to put his thoughts upon paper,
exhibiting first each Poet's life, and then subjoining a critical
examination of his genius and works. But when he began to write, the
subject swelled in such a manner, that instead of prefaces to each poet,
of no more than a few pages, as he had originally intended[125], he
produced an ample, rich, and most entertaining view of them in every
respect. In this he resembled Quintilian, who tells us, that in the
composition of his _Institutions of Oratory[126], Latius se tamen
aperiente materia, plus quam imponebatur oneris sponte suscepi._ The
booksellers, justly sensible of the great additional value of the
copy-right, presented him with another hundred pounds, over and above
two hundred, for which his agreement was to furnish such prefaces as he
thought fit[127].

This was, however, but a small recompense for such a collection of
biography, and such principles and illustrations of criticism, as, if
digested and arranged in one system, by some modern Aristotle or
Longinus, might form a code upon that subject, such as no other nation
can shew. As he was so good as to make me a present of the greatest part
of the original and indeed only[128] manuscript of this admirable work,
I have an opportunity of observing with wonder, the correctness with
which he rapidly struck off such glowing composition. He may be
assimilated to the Lady in Waller, who could impress with 'Love at
first sight:'

     'Some other nymphs with colours faint,
      And pencil slow may Cupid paint,
      And a weak heart in time destroy;
      She has a stamp, and prints the boy[129].'

That he, however, had a good deal of trouble, and some anxiety in
carrying on the work[130], we see from a series of letters to Mr.
Nichols the printer[131], whose variety of literary inquiry and
obliging disposition, rendered him useful to Johnson. Mr. Steevens
appears, from the papers in my possession, to have supplied him with
some anecdotes and quotations; and I observe the fair hand of Mrs.
Thrale as one of his copyists of select passages. But he was principally
indebted to my steady friend Mr. Isaac Reed, of Staple-inn, whose
extensive and accurate knowledge of English literary history I do not
express with exaggeration, when I say it is wonderful; indeed his
labours[132] have proved it to the world; and all who have the pleasure
of his acquaintance can bear testimony to the frankness of his
communications in private society.

It is not my intention to dwell upon each of Johnson's _Lives of the
Poets_, or attempt an analysis of their merits, which, were I able to
do it, would take up too much room in this work; yet I shall make a few
observations upon some of them, and insert a few various readings.

The Life of COWLEY he himself considered as the best of the whole, on
account of the dissertation which it contains on the _Metaphysical
Poets_. Dryden, whose critical abilities were equal to his poetical, had
mentioned them in his excellent Dedication of his Juvenal, but had
barely mentioned them[133]. Johnson has exhibited them at large, with
such happy illustration from their writings, and in so luminous a
manner, that indeed he may be allowed the full merit of novelty, and to
have discovered to us, as it were, a new planet in the poetical
hemisphere[134].

It is remarked by Johnson, in considering the works of a poet[135], that
'amendments are seldom made without some token of a rent;' but I do not
find that this is applicable to prose[136]. We shall see that though his
amendments in this work are for the better, there is nothing of the
_pannus assutus_[137]; the texture is uniform: and indeed, what had been
there at first, is very seldom unfit to have remained.

_Various Readings[138] in the Life of COWLEY._

'All [future votaries of] _that may hereafter pant for_ solitude.

'To conceive and execute the [agitation or perception] _pains and the
pleasures_ of other minds.

'The wide effulgence of [the blazing] a _summer_ noon.'

In the Life of WALLER, Johnson gives a distinct and animated narrative
of publick affairs in that variegated period, with strong yet nice
touches of character; and having a fair opportunity to display his
political principles, does it with an unqualified manly confidence, and
satisfies his readers how nobly he might have executed a _Tory History_
of his country.

So easy is his style in these Lives, that I do not recollect more than
three uncommon or learned words[139]; one, when giving an account of the
approach of Waller's mortal disease, he says, 'he found his legs grow
_tumid_;' by using the expression his legs _swelled_, he would have
avoided this; and there would have been no impropriety in its being
followed by the interesting question to his physician, 'What that
_swelling_ meant?' Another, when he mentions that Pope had _emitted_
proposals; when _published_ or _issued_ would have been more readily
understood; and a third, when he calls Orrery and Dr. Delany[140],
writers both undoubtedly _veracious_[141], when _true, honest_, or
_faithful_, might have been used. Yet, it must be owned, that none of
these are _hard_ or _too big_ words; that custom would make them seem as
easy as any others; and that a language is richer and capable of more
beauty of expression, by having a greater variety of synonimes.

His dissertation[142] upon the unfitness of poetry for the aweful
subjects of our holy religion, though I do not entirely agree with with
him, has all the merit of originality, with uncommon force and
reasoning.

_Various Readings in the Life of_ WALLER.

'Consented to [the insertion of their names] _their own nomination_.

'[After] _paying_ a fine of ten thousand pounds.

'Congratulating Charles the Second on his [coronation] _recovered
right_.

'He that has flattery ready for all whom the vicissitudes of the world
happen to exalt, must be [confessed to degrade his powers] _scorned as a
prostituted mind_.

'The characters by which Waller intended to distinguish his writings are
[elegance] _sprightliness_ and dignity.

'Blossoms to be valued only as they [fetch] _foretell_ fruits.

'Images such as the superficies of nature [easily] _readily_ supplies.

'[His] Some applications [are sometimes] _may be thought_ too remote and
unconsequential.

'His images are [sometimes confused] _not always distinct_?

Against his Life of MILTON, the hounds of Whiggism have opened in full
cry[143]. But of Milton's great excellence as a poet, where shall we
find such a blazon as by the hand of Johnson? I shall select only the
following passage concerning _Paradise Lost_[144]:

'Fancy can hardly forbear to conjecture with what temper Milton surveyed
the silent progress of his work, and marked his reputation stealing its
way in a kind of subterraneous current, through fear and silence. I
cannot but conceive him calm and confident, little disappointed, not at
all dejected, relying on his own merit with steady consciousness, and
waiting without impatience the vicissitudes of opinion, and the
impartiality of a future generation[145].'

Indeed even Dr. Towers, who may be considered as one of the warmest
zealots of _The Revolution Society_[146] itself, allows, that 'Johnson
has spoken in the highest terms of the abilities of that great poet, and
has bestowed on his principal poetical compositions the most honourable
encomiums[147].'

That a man, who venerated the Church and Monarchy as Johnson did, should
speak with a just abhorrence of Milton as a politician, or rather as a
daring foe to good polity, was surely to be expected; and to those who
censure him, I would recommend his commentary on Milton's celebrated
complaint of his situation, when by the lenity of Charles the Second, 'a
lenity of which (as Johnson well observes) the world has had perhaps no
other example, he, who had written in justification of the murder of his
Sovereign, was safe under an Act of Oblivion[148].'

'No sooner is he safe than he finds himself in danger, _fallen on evil
days and evil tongues_, [and] _with darkness and with danger compassed
round_[149]. This darkness, had his eyes been better employed, had
undoubtedly deserved compassion; but to add the mention of danger, was
ungrateful and unjust. He was fallen, indeed, on _evil days_; the time
was come in which regicides could no longer boast their wickedness. But
of _evil tongues_ for Milton to complain, required impudence at least
equal to his other powers; Milton, whose warmest advocates must allow,
that he never spared any asperity of reproach, or brutality of
insolence[150].'

I have, indeed, often wondered how Milton, 'an acrimonious and surly
Republican[151],'--'a man who in his domestick relations was so severe
and arbitrary[152],' and whose head was filled with the hardest and most
dismal tenets of Calvinism[153], should have been such a poet; should
not only have written with sublimity, but with beauty, and even gaiety;
should have exquisitely painted the sweetest sensations of which our
nature is capable; imaged the delicate raptures of connubial love; nay,
seemed to be animated with all the spirit of revelry. It is a proof that
in the human mind the departments of judgement and imagination,
perception and temper, may sometimes be divided by strong partitions;
and that the light and shade in the same character may be kept so
distinct as never to be blended[154].

In the Life of Milton, Johnson took occasion to maintain his own and the
general opinion of the excellence of rhyme over blank verse, in English
poetry[155]; and quotes this apposite illustration of it by 'an
ingenious critick,' that _it seems to be verse only to the eye_[156].
The gentleman whom he thus characterises, is (as he told Mr. Seward) Mr.
Lock[157], of Norbury Park, in Surrey, whose knowledge and taste in the
fine arts is universally celebrated; with whose elegance of manners the
writer of the present work has felt himself much impressed, and to whose
virtues a common friend, who has known him long, and is not much
addicted to flattery, gives the highest testimony.

_Various Readings in the Life of_ MILTON.

'I cannot find any meaning but this which [his most bigotted advocates]
_even kindness and reverence_ can give.

'[Perhaps no] _scarcely any_ man ever wrote so much, and praised so few.

'A certain [rescue] _perservative_ from oblivion.

'Let me not be censured for this digression, as [contracted] _pedantick_
or paradoxical.

'Socrates rather was of opinion, that what we had to learn was how to
[obtain and communicate happiness] _do good and avoid evil_.

'Its elegance [who can exhibit?] _is less attainable._'

I could, with pleasure, expatiate upon the masterly execution of the
Life of DRYDEN, which we have seen[158] was one of Johnson's literary
projects at an early period, and which it is remarkable, that after
desisting from it, from a supposed scantiness of materials, he should,
at an advanced age, have exhibited so amply.

His defence[159] of that great poet against the illiberal attacks upon
him, as if his embracing the Roman Catholick communion had been a
time-serving measure, is a piece of reasoning at once able and candid.
Indeed, Dryden himself, in his _Hind and Panther_, has given such a
picture of his mind, that they who know the anxiety for repose as to the
aweful subject of our state beyond the grave, though they may think his
opinion ill-founded, must think charitably of his sentiment:--

     'But, gracious GOD, how well dost thou provide
      For erring judgements an unerring guide!
      Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light,
      A blaze of glory that forbids the sight.
      O! teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd,
      And search no farther than thyself reveal'd;
      But Her alone for my director take,
      Whom thou hast promis'd never to forsake.
      My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires;
      My manhood long misled by wand'ring fires,
      Follow'd false lights; and when their glimpse was gone,
      My pride struck out new sparkles of her own.
      Such was I, such by Nature still I am;
      Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame.
      Good life be now my task: my doubts are done;
      What more could shock[160] my faith than Three in One?'

In drawing Dryden's character, Johnson has given, though I suppose
unintentionally, some touches of his own. Thus:--'The power that
predominated in his intellectual operations was rather strong reason
than quick sensibility. Upon all occasions that were presented, he
studied rather than felt; and produced sentiments not such as Nature
enforces, but meditation supplies. With the simple and elemental
passions as they spring separate in the mind, he seems not much
acquainted. He is, therefore, with all his variety of excellence, not
often pathetick; and had so little sensibility of the power of effusions
purely natural, that he did not esteem them in others[161].' It may
indeed be observed, that in all the numerous writings of Johnson,
whether in prose or verse, and even in his Tragedy, of which the subject
is the distress of an unfortunate Princess, there is not a single
passage that ever drew a tear[162].

_Various Readings in the Life of_ DRYDEN.

'The reason of this general perusal, Addison has attempted to [find in]
_derive from_ the delight which the mind feels in the investigation
of secrets.

'His best actions are but [convenient] _inability of_ wickedness.

'When once he had engaged himself in disputation, [matter] _thoughts_
flowed in on either side.

'The abyss of an un-ideal [emptiness] _vacancy_.

'These, like [many other harlots,] _the harlots of other men_, had his
love though not his approbation.

'He [sometimes displays] _descends to display_ his knowledge with
pedantick ostentation.

'French words which [were then used in] _had then crept into_
conversation.'

The Life of POPE[163] was written by Johnson _con amore_, both from the
early possession which that writer had taken of his mind, and from the
pleasure which he must have felt, in for ever silencing all attempts to
lessen his poetical fame, by demonstrating his excellence, and
pronouncing the following triumphant eulogium[164]:--'After all this, it
is surely superfluous to answer the question that has once been asked,
Whether Pope was a poet? otherwise than by asking in return, If Pope be
not a poet, where is poetry to be found? To circumscribe poetry by a
definition, will only shew the narrowness of the definer; though a
definition which shall exclude Pope will not easily be made. Let us look
round upon the present time, and back upon the past; let us enquire to
whom the voice of mankind has decreed the wreath of poetry; let their
productions be examined, and their claims stated, and the pretensions of
Pope will be no more disputed.'

I remember once to have heard Johnson say, 'Sir, a thousand years may
elapse before there shall appear another man with a power of
versification equal to that of Pope.' That power must undoubtedly be
allowed its due share in enhancing the value of his captivating
composition.

Johnson, who had done liberal justice to Warburton in his edition of
_Shakspeare_[165], which was published during the life of that powerful
writer, with still greater liberality[166] took an opportunity, in the
Life of Pope, of paying the tribute due to him when he was no longer in
'high place,' but numbered with the dead[167].

It seems strange, that two such men as Johnson and Warburton, who lived
in the same age and country, should not only not have been in any degree
of intimacy, but been almost personally unacquainted. But such
instances, though we must wonder at them, are not rare. If I am rightly
informed, after a careful enquiry, they never met but once, which was at
the house of Mrs. French, in London, well known for her elegant
assemblies, and bringing eminent characters together. The interview
proved to be mutually agreeable[168].

I am well informed, that Warburton said of Johnson, 'I admire him, but I
cannot bear his style:' and that Johnson being told of this, said, 'That
is exactly my case as to him[169].' The manner in which he expressed his
admiration of the fertility of Warburton's genius and of the variety of
his materials was, 'The table is always full, Sir. He brings things from
the north, and the south, and from every quarter. In his _Divine
Legation_, you are always entertained. He carries you round and round,
without carrying you forward to the point; but then you have no wish to
be carried forward.' He said to the Reverend Mr. Strahan, 'Warburton is
perhaps the last man who has written with a mind full of reading and
reflection[170].'

It is remarkable, that in the Life of Broome[171], Johnson takes notice
of Dr. Warburton using a mode of expression which he himself used, and
that not seldom, to the great offence of those who did not know him.
Having occasion to mention a note, stating the different parts which
were executed by the associated translators of _The Odyssey_, he says,
'Dr. Warburton told me, in his warm language, that he thought the
relation given in the note _a lie_. The language is _warm_ indeed; and,
I must own, cannot be justified in consistency with a decent regard to
the established forms of speech. Johnson had accustomed himself to use
the word _lie_[172], to express a mistake or an errour in relation; in
short, when the _thing was not so as told_, though the relator did not
_mean_ to deceive. When he thought there was intentional falsehood in
the relator, his expression was, 'He _lies_, and he _knows_ he _lies_.'

Speaking of Pope's not having been known to excel in conversation,
Johnson observes, that 'traditional memory retains no sallies of
raillery, or[173] sentences of observation; nothing either pointed or
solid, wise or merry[174]; and that one apophthegm only is
recorded[175].' In this respect, Pope differed widely from Johnson,
whose conversation was, perhaps, more admirable than even his writings,
however excellent. Mr. Wilkes has, however, favoured me with one
repartee of Pope, of which Johnson was not informed. Johnson, after
justly censuring him for having 'nursed in his mind a foolish dis-esteem
of Kings,' tells us, 'yet a little regard shewn him by the Prince of
Wales melted his obduracy; and he had not much to say when he was asked
by his Royal Highness, _how he could love a Prince, while he disliked
Kings_[176]?' The answer which Pope made, was, 'The young lion is
harmless, and even playful; but when his claws are full grown he becomes
cruel, dreadful, and mischievous.'

But although we have no collection of Pope's sayings, it is not
therefore to be concluded, that he was not agreeable in social
intercourse; for Johnson has been heard to say, that 'the happiest
conversation is that of which nothing is distinctly remembered but a
general effect of pleasing impression.' The late Lord Somerville[177],
who saw much both of great and brilliant life, told me, that he had
dined in company with Pope, and that after dinner the _little man_, as
he called him, drank his bottle of Burgundy, and was exceedingly gay and
entertaining.

I cannot withhold from my great friend a censure of at least culpable
inattention, to a nobleman, who, it has been shewn[178], behaved to him
with uncommon politeness. He says, 'Except Lord Bathurst, none of Pope's
noble friends were such as that a good man would wish to have his
intimacy with them known to posterity[179].' This will not apply to Lord
Mansfield, who was not ennobled in Pope's life-time; but Johnson should
have recollected, that Lord Marchmont was one of those noble friends. He
includes his Lordship along with Lord Bolingbroke, in a charge of
neglect of the papers which Pope left by his will; when, in truth, as I
myself pointed out to him, before he wrote that poet's life, the papers
were 'committed to _the sole care and judgement_ of Lord Bolingbroke,
unless he (Lord Bolingbroke) shall not survive me;' so that Lord
Marchmont had no concern whatever with them[180]. After the first
edition of the _Lives_, Mr. Malone, whose love of justice is equal to
his accuracy, made, in my hearing, the same remark to Johnson; yet he
omitted to correct the erroneous statement[181]. These particulars I
mention, in the belief that there was only forgetfulness in my friend;
but I owe this much to the Earl of Marchmont's reputation, who, were
there no other memorials, will be immortalised by that line of Pope, in
the verses on his Grotto:

     'And the bright flame was shot through Marchmont's soul.'

_Various Readings in the Life of POPE._

'[Somewhat free] _sufficiently bold_ in his criticism.

'All the gay [niceties] _varieties_ of diction.

'Strikes the imagination with far [more] _greater_ force.

'It is [probably] _certainly_ the noblest version of poetry which the
world has ever seen.

'Every sheet enabled him to write the next with [less trouble] _more
facility_.

'No man sympathizes with [vanity, depressed] _the sorrows of vanity_.

'It had been [criminal] _less easily excused_.

'When he [threatened to lay down] _talked of laying down_ his pen.

'Society [is so named emphatically in opposition to] _politically
regulated, is a state contra-distinguished from_ a state of nature.

'A fictitious life of an [absurd] _infatuated_ scholar.

'A foolish [contempt, disregard,] _disesteem_ of Kings.

'His hopes and fears, his joys and sorrows [were like those of other
mortals] _acted strongly upon his mind_.

'Eager to pursue knowledge and attentive to [accumulate] _retain it_.

'A mind [excursive] _active_, ambitious, and adventurous.

'In its [noblest] _widest_ researches still longing to go forward.

'He wrote in such a manner as might expose him to few [neglects]
_hazards_.

'The [reasonableness] _justice_ of my determination.

'A [favourite] _delicious_ employment of the poets.

'More terrifick and more powerful [beings] _phantoms_ perform on the
stormy ocean.

'The inventor of [those] _this_ petty [beings] _nation_.

'The [mind] _heart_ naturally loves truth.'

In the Life of ADDISON we find an unpleasing account of his having lent
Steele a hundred pounds, and 'reclaimed his loan by an execution[182].'
In the new edition of the _Biographia Britannica_, the authenticity of
this anecdote is denied. But Mr. Malone has obliged me with the
following note concerning it:--

'Many persons having doubts concerning this fact, I applied to Dr.
Johnson to learn on what authority he asserted it. He told me, he had it
from Savage, who lived in intimacy with Steele, and who mentioned, that
Steele told him the story with tears in his eyes.--Ben Victor[183], Dr.
Johnson said, likewise informed him of this remarkable transaction, from
the relation of Mr. Wilkes[184] the comedian, who was also an intimate
of Steele's.--Some in defence of Addison, have said, that "the act was
done with the good natured view of rousing Steele, and correcting that
profusion which always made him necessitous."--"If that were the case,
(said Johnson,) and that he only wanted to alarm Steele, he would
afterwards have _returned_ the money to his friend, which it is not
pretended he did."--"This too, (he added,) might be retorted by an
advocate for Steele, who might alledge, that he did not repay the loan
_intentionally_, merely to see whether Addison would be mean and
ungenerous enough to make use of legal process to recover it. But of
such speculations there is no end: we cannot dive into the hearts of
men; but their actions are open to observation[185]."

'I then mentioned to him that some people thought that Mr. Addison's
character was so pure, that the fact, _though true_, ought to have been
suppressed[186]. He saw no reason for this[187]. "If nothing but the
bright side of characters should be shewn, we should sit down in
despondency, and think it utterly impossible to imitate them in _any
thing_. The sacred writers (he observed) related the vicious as well as
the virtuous actions of men; which had this moral effect, that it kept
mankind from _despair_, into which otherwise they would naturally fall,
were they not supported by the recollection that others had offended
like themselves, and by penitence and amendment of life had been
restored to the favour of Heaven."

'E.M.'

'March 15, 1782.'

The last paragraph of this note is of great importance; and I request
that my readers may consider it with particular attention. It will be
afterwards referred to in this work[188].

_Various Readings in the Life of_ ADDISON.

'[But he was our first great example] _He was, however, one of our
earliest examples_ of correctness.

And [overlook] _despise_ their masters.

His instructions were such as the [state] _character_ of his [own time]
_readers_ made [necessary] _proper_.

His purpose was to [diffuse] _infuse_ literary curiosity by gentle and
unsuspected conveyance [among] _into_ the gay, the idle, and
the wealthy.

Framed rather for those that [wish] _are learning_ to write.

Domestick [manners] _scenes_.'

In his Life of PARNELL, I wonder that Johnson omitted to insert an
Epitaph which he had long before composed for that amiable man, without
ever writing it down, but which he was so good as, at my request, to
dictate to me, by which means it has been preserved.

     '_Hic requiescit_ THOMAS PARNELL, _S.T.P.
        Qui sacerdos pariter et poeta,
        Utrasque partes ita implevit,
        Ut neque sacerdoti suavitas poetae,
        Neo poetae sacerdotis sanctitas_[189], _deesset_.'

     _Various Readings in the Life of_ PARNELL.

'About three years [after] _afterwards_.

[Did not much want] _was in no great need of_ improvement.

But his prosperity _did not last long_ [was clouded by that which took
away all his powers of enjoying either profit or pleasure, the death of
his wife, whom he is said to have lamented with such sorrow, as hastened
his end[190].] His end, whatever was the cause, was now approaching.

In the Hermit, the [composition] _narrative_, as it is less airy, is
less pleasing.'

In the Life of BLACKMORE, we find that writer's reputation generously
cleared by Johnson from the cloud of prejudice which the malignity of
contemporary wits had raised around it[191]. In this spirited exertion
of justice, he has been imitated by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in his praise
of the architecture of Vanburgh[192].

We trace Johnson's own character in his observations on Blackmore's
'magnanimity as an authour.' 'The incessant attacks of his enemies,
whether serious or merry, are never discovered to have disturbed his
quiet, or to have lessened his confidence in himself.' Johnson, I
recollect, once told me, laughing heartily, that he understood it had
been said of him, 'He _appears_ not to feel; but when he is _alone_,
depend upon it, he _suffers sadly_.' I am as certain as I can be of any
man's real sentiments, that he _enjoyed_ the perpetual shower of little
hostile arrows as evidences of his fame.

_Various Readings in the Life of_ BLACKMORE.

To [set] _engage_ poetry [on the side] _in the cause_ of virtue.

He likewise [established] _enforced_ the truth of Revelation.

[Kindness] _benevolence_ was ashamed to favour.

His practice, which was once [very extensive] _invidiously great_.
There is scarcely any distemper of dreadful name [of] which he has not
[shewn] _taught his reader_ how [it is to be opposed] _to oppose_.

Of this [contemptuous] _indecent_ arrogance.

[He wrote] _but produced_ likewise a work of a different kind.

At least [written] _compiled_ with integrity.

Faults which many tongues [were desirous] _would have made haste_ to
publish.

But though he [had not] _could not boast of_ much critical knowledge.

He [used] _waited for_ no felicities of fancy.

Or had ever elevated his [mind] _views_ to that ideal perfection which
every [mind] _genius_ born to excel is condemned always to pursue and
never overtake.

The [first great] _fundamental_ principle of wisdom and of virtue.'

_Various Readings in the Life of_ PHILIPS.

'His dreaded [rival] _antagonist_ Pope.

They [have not often much] _are not loaded with_ thought.

In his translations from Pindar, he [will not be denied to have reached]
_found the art of reaching_ all the obscurity of the Theban bard.'

_Various Readings in the Life of_ CONGREVE.

'Congreve's conversation must surely have been _at least_ equally
pleasing with his writings.

It apparently [requires] _pre-supposes_ a familiar knowledge of many
characters.

Reciprocation of [similes] _conceits_.

The dialogue is quick and [various] _sparkling_.

Love for Love; a comedy [more drawn from life] _of nearer alliance to
life_.

The general character of his miscellanies is, that they shew little wit
and [no] _little_ virtue.

[Perhaps] _certainly_ he had not the fire requisite for the higher
species of lyrick poetry.'

_Various Readings in the Life of_ TICKELL.

'[Longed] _long wished_ to peruse it.

At the [accession] _arrival_ of King George.

Fiction [unnaturally] _unskilfully_ compounded of Grecian deities and
Gothick fairies.'

_Various Readings in the Life of_ AKENSIDE.

'For [another] _a different_ purpose.

[A furious] _an unnecessary_ and outrageous zeal.

[Something which] _what_ he called and thought liberty.

A [favourer of innovation] _lover of contradiction_.

Warburton's [censure] _objections_.

His rage [for liberty] _of patriotism_.

Mr. Dyson with [a zeal] _an ardour_ of friendship.'

In the Life of LYTTELTON, Johnson seems to have been not favourably
disposed towards that nobleman[193]. Mrs. Thrale suggests that he was
offended by _Molly Aston's_[194] preference of his Lordship to him[195].
I can by no means join in the censure bestowed by Johnson on his
Lordship, whom he calls 'poor Lyttelton,' for returning thanks to the
Critical Reviewers for having 'kindly commended' his _Dialogues of the
Dead_. Such 'acknowledgements (says my friend) never can be proper,
since they must be paid either for flattery or for justice.' In my
opinion, the most upright man, who has been tried on a false accusation,
may, when he is acquitted, make a bow to his jury. And when those who
are so much the arbiters of literary merit, as in a considerable degree
to influence the publick opinion, review an authour's work, _placido
lumine_[196], when I am afraid mankind in general are better pleased
with severity, he may surely express a grateful sense of their
civility[197].

_Various Readings in the Life of_ LYTTELTON.

'He solaced [himself] _his grief_ by writing a long poem to her memory.

The production rather [of a mind that means well than thinks vigorously]
_as it seems of leisure than of study, rather effusions than
compositions_.

His last literary [work] _production_.

[Found the way] _undertook_ to persuade.'

As the introduction to his critical examination of the genius and
writings of YOUNG, he did Mr. Herbert Croft[198], then a Barrister of
Lincoln's-inn, now a clergyman, the honour to adopt[199] a _Life of
Young_ written by that gentleman, who was the friend of Dr. Young's son,
and wished to vindicate him from some very erroneous remarks to his
prejudice. Mr. Croft's performance was subjected to the revision of Dr.
Johnson, as appears from the following note to Mr. John Nichols[200]:--

'This _Life of Dr. Young_ was written by a friend of his son. What is
crossed with black is expunged by the authour, what is crossed with red
is expunged by me. If you find any thing more that can be well omitted,
I shall not be sorry to see it yet shorter[201]'

It has always appeared to me to have a considerable share of merit, and
to display a pretty successful imitation of Johnson's style. When I
mentioned this to a very eminent literary character[202], he opposed me
vehemently, exclaiming, 'No, no, it is _not_ a good imitation of
Johnson; it has all his pomp without his force; it has all the
nodosities of the oak without its strength.' This was an image so happy,
that one might have thought he would have been satisfied with it; but he
was not. And setting his mind again to work, he added, with exquisite
felicity, 'It has all the contortions of the Sybil, without the
inspiration.'

Mr. Croft very properly guards us against supposing that Young was a
gloomy man[203]; and mentions, that 'his parish was indebted to the
good-humour of the authour of the _Night Thoughts_ for an Assembly and a
Bowling-Green[204].' A letter from a noble foreigner is quoted, in which
he is said to have been 'very pleasant in conversation[205].'

Mr. Langton, who frequently visited him, informs me, that there was an
air of benevolence in his manner, but that he could obtain from him less
information than he had hoped to receive from one who had lived so much
in intercourse with the brightest men of what has been called the
Augustan age of England; and that he shewed a degree of eager curiosity
concerning the common occurrences that were then passing, which appeared
somewhat remarkable in a man of such intellectual stores, of such an
advanced age, and who had retired from life with declared disappointment
in his expectations.

An instance at once of his pensive turn of mind, and his cheerfulness of
temper, appeared in a little story which he himself told to Mr. Langton,
when they were walking in his garden: 'Here (said he) I had put a
handsome sun-dial, with this inscription, _Eheu fugaces!_[206] which
(speaking with a smile) was sadly verified, for by the next morning my
dial had been carried off.'[207]

'It gives me much pleasure to observe, that however Johnson may have
casually talked,[208] yet when he sits, as "an ardent judge zealous to
his trust, giving sentence" [209] upon the excellent works of Young, he
allows them the high praise to which they are justly entitled.
"The _Universal Passion_ (says he) is indeed a very great
performance,--his distichs have the weight of solid sentiment, and his
points the sharpness of resistless truth."'[210]

But I was most anxious concerning Johnson's decision upon _Night
Thoughts_, which I esteem as a mass of the grandest and richest poetry
that human genius has ever produced; and was delighted to find this
character of that work: 'In his _Night Thoughts_, he has exhibited a
very wide display of original poetry, variegated with deep reflections
and striking allusions; a wilderness of thought, in which the fertility
of fancy scatters flowers of every hue and of every odour. This is one
of the few poems in which blank verse could not be changed for rhime but
with disadvantage.'[211] And afterwards, 'Particular lines are not to be
regarded; the power is in the whole; and in the whole there is a
magnificence like that ascribed to Chinese plantation[212], the
magnificence of vast extent and endless diversity.'

But there is in this Poem not only all that Johnson so well brings in
view, but a power of the _Pathetick_ beyond almost any example that I
have seen. He who does not feel his nerves shaken, and his heart pierced
by many passages in this extraordinary work, particularly by that most
affecting one, which describes the gradual torment suffered by the
contemplation of an object of affectionate attachment, visibly and
certainly decaying into dissolution, must be of a hard and obstinate
frame[213].

To all the other excellencies of _Night Thoughts_ let me add the great
and peculiar one, that they contain not only the noblest sentiments of
virtue, and contemplations on immortality, but the _Christian
Sacrifice_, the _Divine Propitiation_, with all its interesting
circumstances, and consolations to 'a wounded spirit[214],' solemnly and
poetically displayed in such imagery and language, as cannot fail to
exalt, animate, and soothe the truly pious. No book whatever can be
recommended to young persons, with better hopes of seasoning their minds
with _vital religion_, than YOUNG'S _Night Thoughts_.

In the Life of SWIFT, it appears to me that Johnson had a certain degree
of prejudice against that extraordinary man, of which I have elsewhere
had occasion to speak[215]. Mr. Thomas Sheridan imputed it to a supposed
apprehension in Johnson, that Swift had not been sufficiently active in
obtaining for him an Irish degree when it was solicited[216], but of
this there was not sufficient evidence; and let me not presume to charge
Johnson with injustice, because he did not think so highly of the
writings of this authour, as I have done from my youth upwards. Yet that
he had an unfavourable bias is evident, were it only from that passage
in which he speaks of Swift's practice of saving, as, 'first ridiculous
and at last detestable;' and yet after some examination of
circumstances, finds himself obliged to own, that 'it will perhaps
appear that he only liked one mode of expence better than another, and
saved merely that he might have something to give[217].'

One observation which Johnson makes in Swift's life should be often
inculcated:--

'It may be justly supposed, that there was in his conversation what
appears so frequently in his letters, an affectation of familiarity with
the great, an ambition of momentary equality, sought and enjoyed by the
neglect of those ceremonies which custom has established as the barriers
between one order of society and another. This transgression of
regularity was by himself and his admirers termed greatness of soul; but
a great mind disdains to hold any thing by courtesy, and therefore never
usurps what a lawful claimant may take away. He that encroaches on
another's dignity puts himself in his power; he is either repelled with
helpless indignity, or endured by clemency and condescension[218].'

_Various Readings in the Life of Swift_.

'Charity may be persuaded to think that it might be written by a man of
_a_ peculiar [opinions] _character_, without ill intention.

He did not [disown] _deny_ it.

'[To] _by_ whose kindness it is not unlikely that he was [indebted for]
_advanced to_ his benefices.

[With] _for_ this purpose he had recourse to Mr. Harley.

Sharpe, whom he [represents] _describes_ as "the harmless tool of
others' hate."

Harley was slow because he was [irresolute] _doubtful_.

When [readers were not many] _we were not yet a nation of readers_.

[Every man who] _he that could say he_ knew him.

Every man of known influence has so many [more] petitions [than] _which_
he [can] _cannot_ grant, that he must necessarily offend more than he
[can gratify] _gratifies_.

Ecclesiastical [preferments] _benefices_.

'Swift [procured] _contrived_ an interview.

[As a writer] _In his works_ he has given very different specimens.

On all common occasions he habitually [assumes] _affects_ a style of
[superiority] _arrogance_.

By the [omission] _neglect_ of those ceremonies.

That their merits filled the world [and] _or that_ there was no [room
for] _hope of_ more.'

I have not confined myself to the order of the _Lives_, in making my few
remarks. Indeed a different order is observed in the original
publication, and in the collection of Johnson's _Works_. And should it
be objected, that many of my various readings are inconsiderable, those
who make the objection will be pleased to consider, that such small
particulars are intended for those who are nicely critical in
composition, to whom they will be an acceptable selection[219].

_Spence's Anecdotes_, which are frequently quoted and referred to in
Johnson's _Lives of the Poets_, are in a manuscript collection, made by
the Reverend Mr. Joseph Spence[220], containing a number of particulars
concerning eminent men. To each anecdote is marked the name of the
person on whose authority it is mentioned. This valuable collection is
the property of the Duke of Newcastle, who upon the application of Sir
Lucas Pepys, was pleased to permit it to be put into the hands of Dr.
Johnson, who I am sorry to think made but an aukward return. 'Great
assistance (says he) has been given me by Mr. Spence's Collection, of
which I consider the communication as a favour worthy of publick
acknowledgement[221];' but he has not owned to whom he was obliged; so
that the acknowledgement is unappropriated to his Grace.

While the world in general was filled with admiration of Johnson's
_Lives of the Poets_, there were narrow circles in which prejudice and
resentment were fostered, and from which attacks of different sorts
issued against him[222]. By some violent Whigs he was arraigned of
injustice to Milton; by some Cambridge men of depreciating Gray; and his
expressing with a dignified freedom what he really thought of George,
Lord Lyttelton, gave offence to some of the friends of that nobleman,
and particularly produced a declaration of war against him from Mrs.
Montagu, the ingenious Essayist on Shakspeare, between whom and his
Lordship a commerce of reciprocal compliments had long been carried
on[223]. In this war the smaller powers in alliance with him were of
course led to engage, at least on the defensive, and thus I for one was
excluded from the enjoyment of 'A Feast of Reason,' such as Mr.
Cumberland has described, with a keen, yet just and delicate pen, in his
_Observer_[224]. These minute inconveniencies gave not the least
disturbance to Johnson. He nobly said, when I talked to him of the
feeble, though shrill outcry which had been raised, 'Sir, I considered
myself as entrusted with a certain portion of truth. I have given my
opinion sincerely; let them shew where they think me wrong[225].'

While my friend is thus contemplated in the splendour derived from his
last and perhaps most admirable work, I introduce him with peculiar
propriety as the correspondent of WARREN HASTINGS! a man whose regard
reflects dignity even upon JOHNSON; a man, the extent of whose abilities
was equal to that of his power; and who, by those who are fortunate
enough to know him in private life, is admired for his literature and
taste, and beloved for the candour, moderation, and mildness of his
character. Were I capable of paying a suitable tribute of admiration to
him, I should certainly not withhold it at a moment[226] when it is not
possible that I should be suspected of being an interested flatterer.
But how weak would be my voice after that of the millions whom he
governed. His condescending and obliging compliance with my
solicitation, I with humble gratitude acknowledge; and while by
publishing his letter to me, accompanying the valuable communication, I
do eminent honour to my great friend, I shall entirely disregard any
invidious suggestions, that as I in some degree participate in the
honour, I have, at the same time, the gratification of my own vanity
in view.

'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ. Park Lane, Dec. 2, 1790.

SIR,

I have been fortunately spared the troublesome suspense of a long
search, to which, in performance of my promise, I had devoted this
morning, by lighting upon the objects of it among the first papers that
I laid my hands on: my veneration for your great and good friend, Dr.
Johnson, and the pride, or I hope something of a better sentiment, which
I indulged in possessing such memorials of his good will towards me,
having induced me to bind them in a parcel containing other select
papers, and labelled with the titles appertaining to them. They consist
but of three letters, which I believe were all that I ever received from
Dr. Johnson. Of these, one, which was written in quadruplicate, under
the different dates of its respective dispatches, has already been made
publick[227], but not from any communication of mine. This, however, I
have joined to the rest; and have now the pleasure of sending them to
you for the use to which you informed me it was your desire to
destine them.

'My promise was pledged with the condition, that if the letters were
found to contain any thing which should render them improper for the
publick eye, you would dispense with the performance of it. You will
have the goodness, I am sure, to pardon my recalling this stipulation to
your recollection, as I should be both to appear negligent of that
obligation which is always implied in an epistolary confidence. In the
reservation of that right I have read them over with the most scrupulous
attention, but have not seen in them the slightest cause on that ground
to withhold them from you. But, though not on that, yet on another
ground I own I feel a little, yet but a little, reluctance to part with
them: I mean on that of my own credit, which I fear will suffer by the
information conveyed by them, that I was early in the possession of such
valuable instructions for the beneficial employment of the influence of
my late station, and (as it may seem) have so little availed myself of
them. Whether I could, if it were necessary, defend myself against such
an imputation, it little concerns the world to know. I look only to the
effect which these relicks may produce, considered as evidences of the
virtues of their authour: and believing that they will be found to
display an uncommon warmth of private friendship, and a mind ever
attentive to the improvement and extension of useful knowledge, and
solicitous for the interests of mankind, I can cheerfully submit to the
little sacrifice of my own fame, to contribute to the illustration of so
great and venerable a character. They cannot be better applied, for that
end, than by being entrusted to your hands. Allow me, with this
offering, to infer from it a proof of the very great esteem with which I
have the honour to profess myself, Sir,

     Your most obedient
          And most humble servant,
              'WARREN HASTINGS.'

'_P.S_. At some future time, and when you have no further occasion for
these papers, I shall be obliged to you if you would return them.'

The last of the three letters thus graciously put into my hands, and
which has already appeared in publick, belongs to this year; but I shall
previously insert the first two in the order of their dates. They
altogether form a grand group in my biographical picture.

TO THE HONOURABLE WARREN HASTINGS, ESQ.

'SIR,

Though I have had but little personal knowledge of you, I have had
enough to make me wish for more; and though it be now a long time since
I was honoured by your visit, I had too much pleasure from it to forget
it. By those whom we delight to remember, we are unwilling to be
forgotten; and therefore I cannot omit this opportunity of reviving
myself in your memory by a letter which you will receive from the hands
of my friend Mr. Chambers[228]; a man, whose purity of manners and
vigour of mind are sufficient to make every thing welcome that
he brings.

That this is my only reason for writing, will be too apparent by the
uselessness of my letter to any other purpose. I have no questions to
ask; not that I want curiosity after either the ancient or present state
of regions in which have been seen all the power and splendour of
wide-extended empire; and which, as by some grant of natural
superiority, supply the rest of the world with almost all that pride
desires and luxury enjoys. But my knowledge of them is too scanty to
furnish me with proper topicks of enquiry; I can only wish for
information; and hope, that a mind comprehensive like yours will find
leisure, amidst the cares of your important station, to enquire into
many subjects of which the European world either thinks not at all, or
thinks with deficient intelligence and uncertain conjecture. I shall
hope, that he who once intended to increase the learning of his country
by the introduction of the Persian language[229], will examine nicely
the traditions and histories of the East; that he will survey the
wonders of its ancient edifices, and trace the vestiges of its ruined
cities; and that, at his return, we shall know the arts and opinions of
a race of men, from whom very little has been hitherto derived.

You, Sir, have no need of being told by me, how much may be added by
your attention and patronage to experimental knowledge and natural
history. There are arts of manufacture practised in the countries in
which you preside, which are yet very imperfectly known here, either to
artificers or philosophers. Of the natural productions, animate and
inanimate, we yet have so little intelligence, that our books are
filled, I fear, with conjectures about things which an Indian peasant
knows by his senses.

Many of those things my first wish is to see; my second to know, by such
accounts as a man like you will be able to give.

As I have not skill to ask proper questions, I have likewise no such
access to great men as can enable me to send you any political
information. Of the agitations of an unsettled government, and the
struggles of a feeble ministry[230], care is doubtless taken to give you
more exact accounts than I can obtain. If you are inclined to interest
yourself much in publick transactions, it is no misfortune to you to be
so distant from them.

That literature is not totally forsaking us, and that your favourite
language is not neglected, will appear from the book[231], which I
should have pleased myself more with sending, if I could have presented
it bound: but time was wanting. I beg, however, Sir, that you will
accept it from a man very desirous of your regard; and that if you think
me able to gratify you by any thing more important you will employ me.

I am now going to take leave, perhaps a very long leave, of my dear Mr.
Chambers. That he is going to live where you govern, may justly
alleviate the regret of parting; and the hope of seeing both him and you
again, which I am not willing to mingle with doubt, must at present
comfort as it can, Sir, Your most humble servant,

SAM. JOHNSON.
March 30, 1774.'

To THE SAME.

'SIR,
Being informed that by the departure of a ship, there is now an
opportunity of writing to Bengal, I am unwilling to slip out of your
memory by my own negligence, and therefore take the liberty of reminding
you of my existence, by sending you a book which is not yet
made publick.

I have lately visited a region less remote, and less illustrious than
India, which afforded some occasions for speculation; what has occurred
to me, I have put into the volume[232], of which I beg your acceptance.

Men in your station seldom have presents totally disinterested; my book
is received, let me now make my request.

There is, Sir, somewhere within your government, a young adventurer, one
Chauncey Lawrence, whose father is one of my oldest friends. Be pleased
to shew the young man what countenance is fit, whether he wants to be
restrained by your authority, or encouraged by your favour. His father
is now President of the College of Physicians, a man venerable for his
knowledge, and more venerable for his virtue[233].

I wish you a prosperous government, a safe return, and a long enjoyment
of plenty and tranquillity.

     I am, Sir,
        Your most obedient
          And most humble servant,

                 SAM. JOHNSON[234].

London, Dec. 20, 1774.'

TO THE SAME.

'Jan. 9, 1781.

Sir,

Amidst the importance and multiplicity of affairs in which your great
office engages you, I take the liberty of recalling your attention for a
moment to literature, and will not prolong the interruption by an
apology which your character makes needless.

Mr. Hoole, a gentleman long known, and long esteemed in the India-House,
after having translated Tasso[235], has undertaken Ariosto. How well he
is qualified for his undertaking he has already shewn. He is desirous,
Sir, of your favour in promoting his proposals, and flatters me by
supposing that my testimony may advance his interest.

It is a new thing for a clerk of the India-House to translate poets;
--it is new for a Governour of Bengal to patronize learning. That he may
find his ingenuity rewarded, and that learning may flourish under your
protection, is the wish of, Sir, Your most humble servant,

SAM. JOHNSON.'

I wrote to him in February, complaining of having been troubled by a
recurrence of the perplexing question of Liberty and Necessity;--and
mentioning that I hoped soon to meet him again in London.

'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

DEAR SIR,

I hoped you had got rid of all this hypocrisy of misery. What have you
to do with Liberty and Necessity[236]? Or what more than to hold your
tongue about it? Do not doubt but I shall be most heartily glad to see
you here again, for I love every part about you but your affectation
of distress.

I have at last finished my _Lives_, and have laid up for you a load of
copy[237], all out of order, so that it will amuse you a long time to
set it right. Come to me, my dear Bozzy, and let us be as happy as we
can. We will go again to the Mitre, and talk old times over.

     I am, dear Sir,
          Yours affectionately,
               'SAM. JOHNSON.'

March, 14, 1781.

On Monday, March 19, I arrived in London, and on Tuesday, the 20th, met
him in Fleet-street, walking, or rather indeed moving along; for his
peculiar march is thus described in a very just and picturesque manner,
in a short Life[238] of him published very soon after his death:--'When
he walked the streets, what with the constant roll of his head, and the
concomitant motion of his body, he appeared to make his way by that
motion, independent of his feet.' That he was often much stared at while
he advanced in this manner, may easily be believed; but it was not safe
to make sport of one so robust as he was. Mr. Langton saw him one day,
in a fit of absence, by a sudden start, drive the load off a porter's
back, and walk forward briskly, without being conscious of what he
had done.

The porter was very angry, but stood still, and eyed the huge figure
with much earnestness, till he was satisfied that his wisest course was
to be quiet, and take up his burthen again.

Our accidental meeting in the street after a long separation was a
pleasing surprize to us both. He stepped aside with me into
Falcon-court, and made kind inquiries about my family, and as we were in
a hurry going different ways, I promised to call on him next day; he
said he was engaged to go out in the morning. 'Early, Sir?' said I.
JOHNSON: 'Why, Sir, a London morning does not go with the sun.'

I waited on him next evening, and he gave me a great portion of his
original manuscript of his _Lives of the Poets_, which he had
preserved for me.

I found on visiting his friend, Mr. Thrale, that he was now very ill,
and had removed, I suppose by the solicitation of Mrs. Thrale, to a
house in Grosvenor-square[239]. I was sorry to see him sadly changed in
his appearance.

He told me I might now have the pleasure to see Dr. Johnson drink wine
again, for he had lately returned to it. When I mentioned this to
Johnson, he said, 'I drink it now sometimes, but not socially.' The
first evening that I was with him at Thrale's, I observed he poured a
large quantity of it into a glass, and swallowed it greedily. Every
thing about his character and manners was forcible and violent; there
never was any moderation; many a day did he fast, many a year did he
refrain from wine; but when he did eat, it was voraciously; when he did
drink wine, it was copiously. He could practise abstinence, but not
temperance[240].

Mrs. Thrale and I had a dispute, whether Shakspeare or Milton had drawn
the most admirable picture of a man[241]. I was for Shakspeare; Mrs.
Thrale for Milton; and after a fair hearing, Johnson decided for
my opinion.

I told him of one of Mr. Burke's playful sallies upon Dean Marlay[242]:
'I don't like the Deanery of _Ferns_, it sounds so like a _barren_
title.'--'Dr. Heath should have it;' said I. Johnson laughed, and
condescending to trifle in the same mode of conceit, suggested Dr.
_Moss_[243].

He said, 'Mrs. Montagu has dropt me. Now, Sir, there are people whom one
should like very well to drop, but would not wish to be dropped
by[244].' He certainly was vain of the society of ladies, and could make
himself very agreeable to them, when he chose it; Sir Joshua Reynolds
agreed with me that he could. Mr. Gibbon, with his usual sneer,
controverted it, perhaps in resentment of Johnson's having talked with
some disgust of his ugliness[245], which one would think a _philosopher_
would not mind. Dean Marlay wittily observed, 'A lady may be vain, when
she can turn a wolf-dog into a lap-dog.'

The election for Ayrshire, my own county, was this spring tried upon a
petition, before a Committee of the House of Commons. I was one of the
Counsel for the sitting member, and took the liberty of previously
stating different points to Johnson, who never failed to see them
clearly, and to supply me with some good hints. He dictated to me the
following note upon the registration of deeds:--

'All laws are made for the convenience of the community: what is legally
done, should be legally recorded, that the state of things may be known,
and that wherever evidence is requisite, evidence may be had. For this
reason, the obligation to frame and establish a legal register is
enforced by a legal penalty, which penalty is the want of that
perfection and plentitude of right which a register would give. Thence
it follows, that this is not an objection merely legal: for the reason
on which the law stands being equitable, makes it an equitable
objection.'

'This (said he) you must enlarge on, when speaking to the Committee. You
must not argue there as if you were arguing in the schools[246]; close
reasoning will not fix their attention; you must say the same thing over
and over again, in different words. If you say it but once, they miss it
in a moment of inattention. It is unjust, Sir, to censure lawyers for
multiplying words when they argue; it is often necessary for them to
multiply words[247].' His notion of the duty of a member of Parliament,
sitting upon an election-committee[248], was very high; and when he was
told of a gentleman upon one of those committees, who read the
newspapers part of the time, and slept the rest, while the merits of a
vote were examined by the counsel; and as an excuse, when challenged by
the chairman for such behaviour, bluntly answered, 'I had made up my
mind upon that case;'--Johnson, with an indignant contempt, said, 'If he
was such a rogue as to make up his mind upon a case without hearing it,
he should not have been such a fool as to tell it.' 'I think (said Mr.
Dudley Long[249], now North) the Doctor has pretty plainly made him out
to be both rogue and fool.'

Johnson's profound reverence for the Hierarchy[250] made him expect from
bishops the highest degree of decorum; he was offended even at their
going to taverns; 'A bishop (said he) has nothing to do at a
tippling-house. It is not indeed immoral in him to go to a tavern;
neither would it be immoral in him to whip a top in Grosvenor-square.
But, if he did, I hope the boys would fall upon him, and apply
the whip to _him_. There are gradations in conduct; there is
morality,--decency,--propriety. None of these should be violated by a
bishop. A bishop should not go to a house where he may meet a young
fellow leading out a wench.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, every tavern does not
admit women.' JOHNSON. 'Depend upon it, Sir, any tavern will admit a
well-drest man and a well-drest woman; they will not perhaps admit a
woman whom they see every night walking by their door, in the street.
But a well-drest man may lead in a well-drest woman to any tavern in
London. Taverns sell meat and drink, and will sell them to any body who
can eat and can drink. You may as well say that a mercer will not sell
silks to a woman of the town.'

He also disapproved of bishops going to routs, at least of their staying
at them longer than their presence commanded respect. He mentioned a
particular bishop. 'Poh! (said Mrs. Thrale) the Bishop of ----[251] is
never minded at a rout.' BOSWELL. 'When a bishop places himself in a
situation where he has no distinct character, and is of no consequence,
he degrades the dignity of his order.' JOHNSON. 'Mr. Boswell, Madam, has
said it as correctly as it could be.'

Nor was it only in the dignitaries of the Church that Johnson required a
particular decorum and delicacy of behaviour; he justly considered that
the clergy, as persons set apart for the sacred office of serving at the
altar, and impressing the minds of men with the aweful concerns of a
future state, should be somewhat more serious than the generality of
mankind, and have a suitable composure of manners. A due sense of the
dignity of their profession, independent of higher motives, will ever
prevent them from losing their distinction in an indiscriminate
sociality; and did such as affect this, know how much it lessens them in
the eyes of those whom they think to please by it, they would feel
themselves much mortified.

Johnson and his friend, Beauclerk, were once together in company with
several clergymen, who thought that they should appear to advantage, by
assuming the lax jollity of _men of the world;_ which, as it may be
observed in similar cases, they carried to noisy excess. Johnson, who
they expected would be _entertained,_ sat grave and silent for some
time; at last, turning to Beauclerk, he said, by no means in a whisper,
'This merriment of parsons is mighty offensive.'

Even the dress of a clergyman should be in character, and nothing can be
more despicable than conceited attempts at avoiding the appearance of
the clerical order; attempts, which are as ineffectual as they are
pitiful. Dr. Porteus, now Bishop of London, in his excellent charge when
presiding over the diocese of Chester, justly animadverts upon this
subject; and observes of a reverend fop, that he 'can be but _half a
beau_[252].'

Addison, in _The Spectator_[253], has given us a fine portrait of a
clergyman, who is supposed to be a member of his _Club_; and Johnson has
exhibited a model, in the character of Mr. Mudge[254], which has escaped
the collectors of his works, but which he owned to me, and which indeed
he shewed to Sir Joshua Reynolds at the time when it was written. It
bears the genuine marks of Johnson's best manner, and is as
follows[255]:--

'The Reverend Mr. _Zacariah Mudge_, Prebendary of Exeter, and Vicar of
St. Andrew's in Plymouth; a man equally eminent for his virtues and
abilities, and at once beloved as a companion and reverenced as a
pastor. He had that general curiosity to which no kind of knowledge is
indifferent or superfluous; and that general benevolence by which no
order of men is hated or despised.

His principles both of thought and action were great and comprehensive.
By a solicitous examination of objections, and judicious comparison of
opposite arguments, he attained what enquiry never gives but to industry
and perspicuity, a firm and unshaken settlement of conviction. But his
firmness was without asperity; for, knowing with how much difficulty
truth was sometimes found, he did not wonder that many missed it.

The general course of his life was determined by his profession; he
studied the sacred volumes in the original languages; with what
diligence and success, his _Notes upon the Psalms_ give sufficient
evidence. He once endeavoured to add the knowledge of Arabick to that of
Hebrew; but finding his thoughts too much diverted from other studies,
after some time desisted from his purpose.

His discharge of parochial duties was exemplary. How his _Sermons_[256]
were composed, may be learned from the excellent volume which he has
given to the publick; but how they were delivered, can be known only to
those that heard them; for as he appeared in the pulpit, words will not
easily describe him. His delivery, though unconstrained was not
negligent, and though forcible was not turbulent; disdaining anxious
nicety of emphasis, and laboured artifice of action, it captivated the
hearer by its natural dignity, it roused the sluggish, and fixed the
volatile, and detained the mind upon the subject, without directing it
to the speaker.

The grandeur and solemnity of the preacher did not intrude upon his
general behaviour; at the table of his friends he was a companion
communicative and attentive, of unaffected manners, of manly
cheerfulness, willing to please, and easy to be pleased. His
acquaintance was universally solicited, and his presence obstructed no
enjoyment which religion did not forbid. Though studious he was popular;
though argumentative he was modest; though inflexible he was candid; and
though metaphysical yet orthodox[257].'

On Friday, March 30, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, with
the Earl of Charlemont, Sir Annesley Stewart, Mr. Eliot of Port-Eliot,
Mr. Burke, Dean Marlay, Mr. Langton; a most agreeable day, of which I
regret that every circumstance is not preserved; but it is unreasonable
to require such a multiplication of felicity.

Mr. Eliot, with whom Dr. Walter Harte had travelled[258], talked to us
of his _History of Gustavus Adolphus_, which he said was a very good
book in the German translation. JOHNSON. 'Harte was excessively vain. He
put copies of his book in manuscript into the hands of Lord Chesterfield
and Lord Granville, that they might revise it. Now how absurd was it to
suppose that two such noblemen would revise so big a manuscript. Poor
man! he left London the day of the publication of his book, that he
might be out of the way of the great praise he was to receive; and he
was ashamed to return, when he found how ill his book had succeeded. It
was unlucky in coming out on the same day with Robertson's _History of
Scotland_[259]. His husbandry[260], however, is good.' BOSWELL. 'So he
was fitter for that than for heroick history: he did well, when he
turned his sword into a plough-share.'

Mr. Eliot mentioned a curious liquor peculiar to his country, which the
Cornish fishermen drink. They call it _Mahogany_; and it is made of two
parts gin, and one part treacle, well beaten together. I begged to have
some of it made, which was done with proper skill by Mr. Eliot. I
thought it very good liquor; and said it was a counterpart of what is
called _Athol Porridge_ in the Highlands of Scotland, which is a mixture
of whisky and honey. Johnson said, 'that must be a better liquor than
the Cornish, for both its component parts are better.' He also
observed, '_Mahogany_ must be a modern name; for it is not long since
the wood called mahogany was known in this country.' I mentioned his
scale of liquors[261];--claret for boys--port for men--brandy for
heroes. 'Then (said Mr. Burke) let me have claret: I love to be a boy;
to have the careless gaiety of boyish days.' JOHNSON. 'I should drink
claret too, if it would give me that; but it does not: it neither makes
boys men, nor men boys. You'll be drowned by it, before it has any
effect upon you.'

I ventured to mention a ludicrous paragraph in the newspapers, that Dr.
Johnson was learning to dance of Vestris[262]. Lord Charlemont, wishing
to excite him to talk, proposed in a whisper, that he should be asked,
whether it was true. 'Shall I ask him?' said his Lordship. We were, by a
great majority, clear for the experiment. Upon which his Lordship very
gravely, and with a courteous air said, 'Pray, Sir, is it true that you
are taking lessons of Vestris?' This was risking a good deal, and
required the boldness of a General of Irish Volunteers to make the
attempt. Johnson was at first startled, and in some heat answered, 'How
can your Lordship ask so simple a question?' But immediately recovering
himself, whether from unwillingness to be deceived, or to appear
deceived, or whether from real good humour, he kept up the joke: 'Nay,
but if any body were to answer the paragraph, and contradict it, I'd
have a reply, and would say, that he who contradicted it was no friend
either to Vestris or me. For why should not Dr.[263] Johnson add to his
other powers a little corporeal agility? Socrates learnt to dance at an
advanced age, and Cato learnt Greek at an advanced age. Then it might
proceed to say, that this Johnson, not content with dancing on the
ground, might dance on the rope; and they might introduce the elephant
dancing on the rope. A nobleman[264] wrote a play, called _Love in a
hollow Tree_. He found out that it was a bad one, and therefore wished
to buy up all the copies, and burn them. The Duchess of Marlborough had
kept one; and when he was against her at an election, she had a new
edition of it printed, and prefixed to it, as a frontispiece, an
elephant dancing on a rope; to shew, that his Lordship's writing comedy
was as aukward as an elephant dancing on a rope[265].'

On Sunday, April 1, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's, with Sir Philip
Jennings Clerk and Mr. Perkins[266], who had the superintendence of Mr.
Thrale's brewery, with a salary of five hundred pounds a year. Sir
Philip had the appearance of a gentleman of ancient family, well
advanced in life. He wore his own white hair in a bag of goodly size, a
black velvet coat, with an embroidered waistcoat, and very rich laced
ruffles; which Mrs. Thrale said were old fashioned, but which, for that
reason, I thought the more respectable, more like a Tory; yet Sir Philip
was then in Opposition in Parliament[267]. 'Ah, Sir, (said Johnson,)
ancient ruffles and modern principles do not agree.' Sir Philip defended
the Opposition to the American war ably and with temper, and I joined
him. He said, the majority of the nation was against the ministry.
JOHNSON. '_I_, Sir, am against the ministry[268]; but it is for having
too little of that, of which Opposition thinks they have too much. Were
I minister, if any man wagged his finger against me, he should be turned
out[269]; for that which it is in the power of Government to give at
pleasure to one or to another, should be given to the supporters of
Government. If you will not oppose at the expence of losing your place,
your opposition will not be honest, you will feel no serious grievance;
and the present opposition is only a contest to get what others have.
Sir Robert Walpole acted as I would do. As to the American war, the
_sense_ of the nation is _with_ the ministry. The majority of those who
can _understand_ is with it; the majority of those who can only _hear_,
is against it; and as those who can only hear are more numerous than
those who can understand, and Opposition is always loudest, a majority
of the rabble will be for Opposition.'

This boisterous vivacity entertained us; but the truth in my opinion
was, that those who could understand the best were against the American
war, as almost every man now is, when the question has been coolly
considered.

Mrs. Thrale gave high praise to Mr. Dudley Long, (now North). JOHNSON.
'Nay, my dear lady, don't talk so. Mr. Long's character is very _short_.
It is nothing. He fills a chair. He is a man of genteel appearance, and
that is all[270]. I know nobody who blasts by praise as you do: for
whenever there is exaggerated praise, every body is set against a
character. They are provoked to attack it. Now there is Pepys[271]; you
praised that man with such disproportion, that I was incited to lessen
him, perhaps more than he deserves[272]. His blood is upon your
head[273]. By the same principle, your malice defeats itself; for your
censure is too violent. And yet (looking to her with a leering smile)
she is the first woman in the world, could she but restrain that wicked
tongue of hers;--she would be the only woman, could she but command that
little whirligig[274].'

Upon the subject of exaggerated praise I took the liberty to say, that I
thought there might be very high praise given to a known character which
deserved it, and therefore it would not be exaggerated. Thus, one might
say of Mr. Edmund Burke, He is a very wonderful man. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir,
you would not be safe if another man had a mind perversely to
contradict. He might answer, "Where is all the wonder? Burke is, to be
sure, a man of uncommon abilities, with a great quantity of matter in
his mind, and a great fluency of language in his mouth. But we are not
to be stunned and astonished by him." So you see, Sir, even Burke would
suffer, not from any fault of his own, but from your folly.'

Mrs. Thrale mentioned a gentleman who had acquired a fortune of four
thousand a year in trade, but was absolutely miserable, because he could
not talk in company; so miserable, that he was impelled to lament his
situation in the street to ----[275], whom he hates, and who he knows
despises him. 'I am a most unhappy man (said he). I am invited to
conversations. I go to conversations; but, alas! I have no
conversation.' JOHNSON. 'Man commonly cannot be successful in different
ways. This gentleman has spent, in getting four thousand pounds a year,
the time in which he might have learnt to talk; and now he cannot talk.'
Mr. Perkins made a shrewd and droll remark: 'If he had got his four
thousand a year as a mountebank, he might have learnt to talk at the
same time that he was getting his fortune.'

Some other gentlemen came in. The conversation concerning the person
whose character Dr. Johnson had treated so slightingly, as he did not
know his merit, was resumed. Mrs. Thrale said, 'You think so of him,
Sir, because he is quiet, and does not exert himself with force. You'll
be saying the same thing of Mr. ---- there, who sits as quiet--.' This
was not well-bred; and Johnson did not let it pass without correction.
'Nay, Madam, what right have you to talk thus? Both Mr. ---- and I have
reason to take it ill. _You_ may talk so of Mr. ----; but why do you
make _me_ do it. Have I said anything against Mr. ----? You have _set_
him, that I might shoot him: but I have not shot him.'

One of the gentlemen said, he had seen three folio volumes of Dr.
Johnson's sayings collected by me. 'I must put you right, Sir, (said I;)
for I am very exact in authenticity. You could not see folio volumes,
for I have none: you might have seen some in quarto and octavo. This is
inattention which one should guard against.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is a want
of concern about veracity. He does not know that he saw _any_ volumes.
If he had seen them he could have remembered their size[276].'

Mr. Thrale appeared very lethargick to-day. I saw him again on Monday
evening, at which time he was not thought to be in immediate danger; but
early in the morning of Wednesday, the 4th[277], he expired[278].
Johnson was in the house, and thus mentions the event: 'I felt almost
the last flutter of his pulse, and looked for the last time upon the
face that for fifteen years had never been turned upon me but with
respect and benignity[279].' Upon that day there was a Call of the
LITERARY CLUB; but Johnson apologised for his absence by the
following note:--

'MR. JOHNSON knows that Sir Joshua Reynolds and the other gentlemen will
excuse his incompliance with the call, when they are told that Mr.
Thrale died this morning.' Wednesday.'

Mr. Thrale's death was a very essential loss to Johnson[280], who,
although he did not foresee all that afterwards happened, was
sufficiently convinced that the comforts which Mr. Thrale's family
afforded him, would now in a great measure cease. He, however continued
to shew a kind attention to his widow and children as long as it was
acceptable; and he took upon him, with a very earnest concern, the
office of one of his executors, the importance of which seemed greater
than usual to him, from his circumstances having been always such, that
he had scarcely any share in the real business of life[281]. His friends
of the CLUB were in hopes that Mr. Thrale might have made a liberal
provision for him for his life, which, as Mr. Thrale left no son, and a
very large fortune, it would have been highly to his honour to have
done; and, considering Dr. Johnson's age, could not have been of long
duration; but he bequeathed him only two hundred pounds, which was the
legacy given to each of his executors[282]. I could not but be somewhat
diverted by hearing Johnson talk in a pompous manner of his new office,
and particularly of the concerns of the brewery, which it was at last
resolved should be sold[283]. Lord Lucan[284] tells a very good story,
which, if not precisely exact, is certainly characteristic: that when
the sale of Thrale's brewery was going forward, Johnson appeared
bustling about, with an ink-horn and pen in his button-hole, like an
excise-man; and on being asked what he really considered to be the value
of the property which was to be disposed of, answered, 'We are not here
to sell a parcel of boilers and vats but the potentiality of growing
rich, beyond the dreams of avarice[285].'

On Friday, April 6, he carried me to dine at a club, which, at his
desire, had been lately formed at the Queen's Arms, in St. Paul's
Church-yard. He told Mr. Hoole, that he wished to have a _City Club_,
and asked him to collect one; but, said he, 'Don't let them be
_patriots_[286].' The company were to-day very sensible, well-behaved
men. I have preserved only two particulars of his conversation. He said
he was glad Lord George Gordon had escaped[287], rather than that a
precedent should be established for hanging a man for _constructive
treason_; which, in consistency with his true, manly, constitutional
Toryism, he considered would be a dangerous engine of arbitrary power.
And upon its being mentioned that an opulent and very indolent Scotch
nobleman, who totally resigned the management of his affairs to a man of
knowledge and abilities, had claimed some merit by saying, 'The next
best thing to managing a man's own affairs well is being sensible of
incapacity, and not attempting it, but having full confidence in one who
can do it:' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, this is paltry. There is a middle
course. Let a man give application; and depend upon it he will soon get
above a despicable state of helplessness, and attain the power of acting
for himself.'

On Saturday, April 7, I dined with him at Mr. Hoole's with Governour
Bouchier and Captain Orme, both of whom had been long in the
East-Indies; and being men of good sense and observation, were very
entertaining. Johnson defended the oriental regulation of different
_casts_ of men, which was objected to as totally destructive of the
hopes of rising in society by personal merit. He shewed that there was a
_principle_ in it sufficiently plausible by analogy. 'We see (said he)
in metals that there are different species; and so likewise in animals,
though one species may not differ very widely from another, as in the
species of dogs,--the cur, the spaniel, the mastiff. The Bramins are the
mastiffs of mankind.'

On Thursday, April 12, I dined with him at a Bishop's, where were Sir
Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Berrenger, and some more company. He had dined the
day before at another Bishop's. I have unfortunately recorded none of
his conversation at the Bishop's where we dined together[288]: but I
have preserved his ingenious defence of his dining twice abroad in
Passion-week[289]; a laxity, in which I am convinced he would not have
indulged himself at the time when he wrote his solemn paper in _The
Rambler_[290], upon that aweful season. It appeared to me, that by
being much more in company, and enjoying more luxurious living, he had
contracted a keener relish of pleasure, and was consequently less
rigorous in his religious rites. This he would not acknowledge; but he
reasoned with admirable sophistry, as follows: 'Why, Sir, a Bishop's
calling company together in this week is, to use the vulgar phrase, not
_the thing_. But you must consider laxity is a bad thing; but
preciseness is also a bad thing; and your general character may be more
hurt by preciseness than by dining with a Bishop in Passion-week. There
might be a handle for reflection. It might be said, 'He refused to dine
with a Bishop in Passion-week, but was three Sundays absent from
Church.' BOSWELL. 'Very true, Sir. But suppose a man to be uniformly of
good conduct, would it not be better that he should refuse to dine with
a Bishop in this week, and so not encourage a bad practice by his
example?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you are to consider whether you might not
do more harm by lessening the influence of a Bishop's character by your
disapprobation in refusing him, than by going to him.'

TO MRS. LUCY PORTER