He allowed very great influence to education. "I do not deny, Sir, but 1776. there is fome original difference in minds; but it is nothing in comparison of Etat. 67. what is formed by education. We may inftance the fcience of numbers, which all minds are equally capable of attaining; yet we find a prodigious difference in the powers of different men, in that refpect, after they are grown up, because their minds have been more or lefs exercised in it; and I think the fame caufe will explain the difference of excellence in other things, gradations admitting always fome difference in the first principles.”

This is a difficult fubject; but it is beft to hope that diligence may do a great deal. We are fure of what it can do, in increasing our mechanical force and dexterity.

I again vifited him on Monday. He took occafion to enlarge, as he often did, upon the wretchedness of a fea-life. "A fhip is worse than a gaol. There is, in a gaol, better air, better company, better conveniency of every kind; and a ship has the additional disadvantage of being in danger. When men come to like a fea-life, they are not fit to live on land."-" Then (faid I,) it would be cruel in a father to breed his fon to the fea." JOHNSON. "It would be cruel in a father who thinks as I do. Men go to fea, before they know the unhappiness of that way of life; and when they have come to know it, they cannot escape from it, because it is then too late to choose another profeffion; as indeed is generally the cafe with men, when they have once engaged in any particular way of life."

On Tuesday, March 19, which was fixed for our propofed jaunt, we met in the morning at the Somerfet coffee-houfe in the Strand, where we were taken up by the Oxford coach. He was accompanied by Mr. Gwyn, the architect; and a gentleman of Merton College, whom we did not know, had the fourth feat. We foon got into conversation; for it was very remarkable of Johnson, that the prefence of a ftranger was no restraint upon his talk. I obferved that Garrick, who was about to quit the stage, would foon have an easier life. JOHNSON. "I doubt that, Sir." BOSWELL. "Why, Sir, he will be Atlas with the burthen off his back." JOHNSON. "But I know not, Sir, if he will be so steady without his load. However, he should never play any more, but be entirely the gentleman, and not partly the player: he should no longer fubject himself to be hiffed by a mob, or to be infolently treated by performers, whom he used to rule with a high hand, and who would gladly retaliate." BOSWELL. "I think he should play once a year for the benefit of decayed actors, as it has been faid he means to do." JOHNSON. Sir! he will foon be a decayed actor himself.”

"Alas,

Johnfon

1776.

Etat. 67.

Г

Johnfon expreffed his difapprobation of ornamental architecture, fuch as magnificent columns fupporting a portico, or expensive pilafters fupporting merely their own capitals, "because it confumes labour difproportionate to its utility." For the fame reafon he fatyrised ftatuary. Painting (faid he,) confumes labour not difproportionate to its effect; but a fellow will hack half a year at a block of marble to make fomething in ftone that hardly resembles. a man. The value of ftatuary is owing to its difficulty. You would not value the fineft head cut upon a carrot." Here he seemed to me to be ftrangely deficient in tafte; for furely ftatuary is a noble art of imitation, and preferves a wonderful expreffion of the varieties of the human frame; and although it must be allowed that the circumftances of difficulty enhances the value of a marble head, we fhould confider, that if it requires a long time in the performance, it has a proportionate value in durability.

Gwyn was a fine lively rattling fellow. Dr. Johnfon kept him in fubjection, but with a kindly authority. The spirit of the artist, however, rose against what he thought a Gothick attack, and he made a brifk defence. “What, Sir, will you allow no value to beauty in architecture or in ftatuary? Why fhould we allow it then in writing? Why do you take the trouble to give us fo many fine allufions, and bright images, and elegant phrases? You might convey all your instruction without these ornaments." Johnson fimiled with complacency; but faid, "Why, Sir, all these ornaments are ufeful, because they obtain an easier reception for truth; but a building is not at all more convenient for being decorated with fuperfluous carved work."

Gwyn at last was lucky enough to make one reply to Dr. Johnson, which he allowed to be excellent. Johnfon cenfured him for taking down a church which might have ftood many years, and building a new one at a different place, for no other reason but that there might be a direct road to a new bridge; and his expreffion was, "You are taking a church out of the way, that the people may go in a straight line to the bridge."-" No, Sir (faid Gwyn) I am putting the church in the way, that the people may not go out of the way." JOHNSON. (with a hearty loud laugh of approbation,) "Speak no more. Reft your colloquial fame upon this."

Upon our arrival at Oxford, Dr. Johnson and I went directly to University College, but were disappointed on finding that one of the fellows, his friend Mr. Scott, who accompanied him from Newcastle to Edinburgh, was gone to the country. We put up at the Angel inn, and paffed the evening by ourselves in eafy and familiar converfation. Talking of constitutional melancholy, he obferved, "A man fo afflicted, Sir, must divert diftreffing

thoughts,

1776.

thoughts, and not combat with them." BOSWELL." May not he think them down, Sir?" JOHNSON. "No, Sir. To attempt to think them down is Etat. 67. madness. He should have a lamp conftantly burning in his bed-chamber during the night, and if wakefully disturbed, take a book, and read, and compose himself to reft. To have the management of the mind is a great art, and it may be attained in a confiderable degree by experience and habitual exercise." BOSWELL." Should not he provide amusements for himfelf? Would it not, for inftance, be right for him to take a course of chymistry?" JOHNSON. "Let him take a course of chymistry, or a course of rope-dancing, or a course of any thing to which he is inclined at the time. Let him contrive to have as many retreats for his mind as he can, as many things to which it can fly from itself. Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy' is a valuable work. It is, perhaps, overloaded with quotation. But there is great fpirit and great power in what Burton fays, when he writes from his own mind." Next morning we visited Dr. Wetherell, Mafter of University College, with whom Dr. Johnfon conferred on the moft advantageous mode of difpofing of the books printed at the Clarendon prefs, on which subject his letter has been inferted in a former page. I often had occafion to remark, Johnfon loved bufinefs, loved to have his wifdom actually operate on real life. Dr. Wetherell and I talked of him without referve in his own prefence. WETHERELL. "I would have given him a hundred guineas if he would. have written a preface to his Political Tracts,' by way of a Discourse on the British Conftitution." BOSWELL. "Dr. Johnson, though in his writings, and upon all occafions a great friend to the conftitution both in church and state, has never written exprefsly in fupport of either. There is really a claim upon him for both. I am fure he could give a volume of no great bulk upon each, which would comprife all the fubftance, and with his fpirit would. effectually maintain them. He fhould erect a fort on the confines of each." I could perceive that he was difpleafed by this dialogue. He burft out, Why should I be always writing?" I hoped he was confcious that the debt was juft, and meant to difcharge it, though he difliked being dunned.

We then went to Pembroke College, and waited on his old friend Dr. Adams, the mafter of it, whom I found to be a moft polite, pleafing, communicative man. Before his advancement to the headship of his College, I had intended to go and vifit him at Shrewsbury, where he was rector of St. Chad's, in order to get from him what particulars he could recollect of Johnfon's academical life. He now obligingly gave me part of that

authentick

1776.

Etat. 67.

authentick information, which, with what I afterwards owed to his kindness, will be found incorporated in its proper place in this work.

Dr. Adams had diftinguifhed himself by an able anfwer to David Hume's "Effay on Miracles." He told me he had once dined in company with Hume in London; that Hume shook hands with him, and faid, "You have treated me much better than I deferve;" and that they exchanged vifits. I took the liberty to object to treating an infidel writer with smooth civility. Where there is a controverfy concerning a paffage in a claffick authour, or concerning a queftion in antiquities, or any other fubject in which human happiness is not deeply interested, a man may treat his antagonist with politeness and even refpect. But where the controverfy is concerning the truth of religion, it is of fuch vaft importance to him who maintains it, to obtain the victory; that the perfon of an opponent ought not to be fpared. If a man firmly believes that religion is an invaluable treasure, he will confider a writer who endeavours to deprive mankind of it as a robber; he will look upon him as odious, though the Infidel may think himself in the right. A robber who reasons as the gang do in the "Beggar's Opera," who call themselves practical philofophers, and may have as much fincerity as pernicious fpeculative philofophers, is not the lefs an object of just indignation. An abandoned profligate may think that it is not wrong to debauch my wife; but fhall I, therefore, not deteft him? And if I catch him making an attempt fhall I treat him with politenefs? No, I will kick him down ftairs, or run him through the body: that is, if I really love my wife, or have a true rational notion of honour. An Infidel then should not be treated handsomely by a Chriftian, merely because he endeavours to rob with ingenuity. I do declare, however, that I am exceedingly unwilling to be provoked to anger, and could I be perfuaded that truth would not fuffer from a cool moderation in its defenders, I fhould wish to preserve good humour, at least, in every controverfy; nor, indeed, do I fee why a man fhould lose his temper while he does all he can to refute an opponent. I think ridicule may be fairly used against an infidel; for inftance, if he be an ugly fellow, and yet abfurdly vain of his perfon, we may contrast his appearance with Cicero's beautiful image of Virtue, could fhe be feen. Johnfon coincided with me and faid, "When a man voluntarily engages in, an important controverfy, he is to do all he can to leffen his antagonist, becaufe authority from perfonal refpect has much weight with most people, and often more than reafoning. If my antagonist writes bad language, though that may not be effential to the question, I will attack him for his bad language." ADAMS. "You would

not jostle a chimney-fweeper." JOHNSON. "Yes, Sir, if it were neceffary 1776. to joftle him down."

Dr. Adams told us, that in fome of the Colleges at Oxford, the fellows had excluded the ftudents from focial intercourfe with them in the common room. JOHNSON. "They are in the right, Sir, for there can be no real converfation, no fair exertion of mind amongst them, if the young men are by; for a man who has a character does not choose to stake it in their prefence." BOSWELL. "But, Sir, may there not be very good converfation without a conteft for fuperiority?" JOHNSON. "No animated converfation, Sir, for it cannot be but one or other will come off fuperiour. I do not mean that the victor must have the better of the argument, for he may take the weak fide; but his fuperiority of parts and knowledge will neceffarily appear: and he to whom he thus fhews himfelf fuperiour is leffened in the eyes of the young You know it was faid, Mallem cum Scaligero errare quam cum Clavio rectè fapere.' In the fame manner take Bentley's and Jafon de Neres' Comments upon Horace, you will admire Bentley more when wrong, than Jafon when right."

men.

We walked with Dr. Adams into the mafter's garden, and into the common room. JOHNSON. (after a reverie of meditation,) Aye! Here I used to play at drafts with Phil. Jones and Fludyer. Jones loved beer, and did not get very forward in the church. Fludyer turned out a scoundrel, a Whig, and said he was ashamed of having been bred at Oxford. He had a living at Putney, and got under the eye of fome retainers to the court at that time, and fo became a violent Whig: but he had been a fcoundrel all along, to be fure." BOSWELL. "Was he a fcoundrel, Sir, in any other way than being a political fcoundrel? Did he cheat at drafts?" JOHNSON. "Sir, we never played for money."

He then carried me to vifit Dr. Bentham, Canon of Chrift-Church, and Divinity Profeffor, with whofe learned and lively converfation we were much pleased. He gave us an invitation to dinner, which Dr. Johnfon told me was a high honour. "Sir, it is a great thing to dine with the Canons of Chrift-Church." We could not accept his invitation, as we were engaged to dine at University College. We had an excellent dinner there, with the Master and Fellows, it being St. Cuthbert's day, which is kept by them as a festival, as he was a faint of Durham, with which this College is much connected.

We drank tea with Dr. Horne, Prefident of Magdalen College, now Bishop of Norwich, of whofe abilities, in different refpects, the publick has had

VOL. II.

E

eminent

Ætat. 67.