you?" JOHNSON. "What do you mean, | enough to forego it for a day, as Mr. Dilly sir? What do you take me for? Do you is a very worthy man, has frequently had think I am so ignorant of the world as to agreeable parties at his house for Dr. Johnimagine that I am to prescribe to a gentle- son, and will be vexed if the Doctor neglects man what company he is to have at his him to-day. And then, madam, be pleased table?" BOSWELL. "I beg your pardon, to consider my situation; I carried the sir, for wishing to prevent you from meet- message, and I assured Mr. Dilly that Dr. ing people whom you might not like. Johnson was to come; and no doubt he has Perhaps he may have some of what he calls made a dinner, and invited a company, and his patriotick friends with him." JOHNSON. boasted of the honour he expected to have. "Well, sir, and what then? What care II shall be quite disgraced if the Doctor is for his patriotick friends? Poh!" BosWELL." I should not be surprised to find Jack Wilkes there." JOHNSON. "And if Jack Wilkes should be there, what is that to me, sir? My dear friend, let us have no more of this. I am sorry to be angry with you; but really it is treating me strangely to talk to me as if I could not meet any company whatever, occasionally." BosWELL. "Pray forgive me, sir: I meant well. But you shall meet whoever comes, for me." Thus I secured him, and told Dilly that he would find him very well pleased to be one of his guests on the day appointed. not there." She gradually softened to my solicitations, which were certainly as earnest as most entreaties to ladies upon any occasion, and was graciously pleased to empower me, to tell Dr. Johnson, "that, all things considered, she thought he should certainly go." I flew back to him, still in dust, and careless of what should be the event, "indifferent in his choice to go or stay;" but as soon as I had announced to him Mrs. Williams's consent, he roared, "Frank, a clean shirt," and was very soon dressed. When I had him fairly seated in a hackney-coach with me, I exulted as much as a fortune-hunter who has got an heiress. into a post-chaise with him to set out for Gretna-Green. When we entered Mr. Dilly's drawingroom, he found himself in the midst of a company he did not know. I kept myself snug and silent, watching how he would conduct himself. I observed him whispering to Mr. Dilly, "Who is that gentleman, sir? "Mr. Arthur Lee." JOHNSON. Upon the much expected Wednesday, I called on him about half an hour before dinner, as I often did when we were to dine out together, to see that he was ready in time, and to accompany him. I found him buffeting his books, as upon a former occasion, covered with dust, and making no preparation for going abroad. "How is this, sir?" said I. "Don't you recollect that you are to dine at Mr. Dilly's?""Too, too, too" (under his breath), which JOHNSON. "Sir, I did not think of going to Dilly's: it went out of my head. I have ordered dinner at home with Mrs. Williams." Boswell. "But, my dear sir, you know you were engaged to Mr. Dilly, and I told him so. He will expect you, and will be much disappointed if you don't come." JOHNSON. "You must talk to Mrs. Williams about this." Here was a sad dilemma. I feared that what I was so confident I had secured would yet be frustrated. He had accustomed himself to show Mrs. Williams such a degree of humané attention, as frequently imposed some restraint upon him; and I knew that if she should be obstinate, he would not stir. I hastened down stairs to the blind lady's room, and told her I was in great uneasiness, for Dr. Johnson had engaged to me to dine this day at Mr. Dilly's, but that he had told me he had forgotten his engagement, and had ordered dinner at home. "Yes, sir," said she, pretty peevishly, "Dr. Johnson is to dine at home." "Madam," said I, "his respect for you is such, that I know he will not leave you, unless you absolutely desire it. But as you have so much of his company, I hope you will be good was one of his habitual mutterings. Mr. Arthur Lee could not but be very obnoxious to Johnson, for he was not only a patriot, but an American. He was afterwards minister from the United States at the court of Madrid. "And who is the gentleman in lace?" "Mr. Wilkes, sir." This information confounded him still more; he had some difficulty to restrain himself, and, taking up a book, sat down upon a windowseat and read, or at least kept his eye upon it intently for some time, till he composed himself. His feelings, I dare say, were awkward enough. But he no doubt recollected his having rated me for supposing that he could be at all disconcerted by any company, and he, therefore, resolutely set himself to behave quite as an easy man of the world, who could adapt himself at once to the disposition and manners of those whom he might chance to meet. The cheering sound of " Dinner is upon the table," dissolved his reverie, and we all sat down without any symptom of ill humour. There were present, beside Mr. Wilkes and Mr. Arthur Lee, who was an old companion of mine when he studied physick at Edinburgh, Mr. (now Sir John) Miller 2, Dr. Lettsom, and Mr. Slater, the druggist. Mr. | Wilkes placed himself next to Dr. Johnson, and behaved to him with so much attention and politeness, that he gained upon him insensibly. No man ate more heartily than Johnson, or loved better what was nice and delicate. Mr. Wilkes was very assiduous in helping him to some fine veal. "Pray give me leave, sir-It is better here-A little of the brown-Some fat, sir-A little of the stuffing-Soine gravy-Let me have the pleasure of giving you some butter Allow me to recommend a squeeze of this orange; or the lemon, perhaps, may have "Sir; sir, I am obliged to you, sir," cried Johnson, bowing, and turning his head to him with a look for some time of "surly virtue 1," but, in a short while, of complacency. more zest." Foote being mentioned, Johnson said, "He is not a good mimick." One of the company added, "A merry-andrew, a buffoon." JOHNSON. "But he has wit too, and is not deficient in ideas, or in fertility and variety of imagery, and not empty of reading; he has knowledge enough to fill up his part. One species of wit he has in an eminent degree, that of escape. You drive him into a corner with both hands; but he's gone, sir, when you think you have got him-like an animal that jumps over your head. Then he has a great range for wit; he never lets truth stand between him and a jest, and he is sometimes mighty coarse. Garrick is under many restraints from which Foote is free." WILKES. "Garrick's wit is more like Lord Chesterfield's." JOHNSON. "The first time I was in company with Foote was at Fitzherbert's. Having no good opinion of the fellow, I was resolved not to be pleased; and it is very difficult to please a man against his will. I went on eating my dinner pretty sullenly, affecting not to mind him. But the dog was so very comical, that I was obliged to lay down my knife and fork, throw myself back upon my chair, and fairly laugh it out. No, Sir, he was irresistible 2. He upon one occasion experienced, in an extraordinary degree, the efficacy of his powers of entertaining. Amongst the many and various modes which he tried of getting money, he became a partner with a small-beer brewer, and he was to have a share of the profits for procuring customers amongst his numerous acquaintance. Fitzherbert was one who took his small-beer; but it was so bad that the servants resolved not to drink it. They Johnson's "London, a Poem," v. 145.BOSWELL. 2 Foote told me, that Johnson said of him, "For loud, obstreperous, broad-faced mirth, I know not his equal."-BOSWELL. [See ante, p. 32.-ED.] were at some loss how to notify their resolution, being afraid of offending their master, who they knew liked Foote much as a companion. At last they fixed upon a little black boy, who was rather a favourite, to be their deputy, and deliver their remonstrance; and, having invested him with the whole authority of the kitchen, he was to inform Mr. Fitzherbert, in all their names, upon a certain day, that they would drink Foote's small-beer no longer. On that day Foote happened to dine at Fitzherbert's, and this boy served at table; he was so delighted with Foote's stories, and merriment, and grimace, that when he went down stairs, he told them, 'This is the finest man I have ever seen. I will not deliver your message. I will drink his smallbeer.'" Somebody observed that Garrick could not have done this. WILKES. "Garrick would have made the small-beer still smaller. He is now leaving the stage; but he will play Scrub all his life." I knew that Johnson would let nobody attack Garrick but himself, as Garrick said to me, and I had heard him praise his liberality; so to bring out his commendation of his celebrated pupil, I said, loudly, "I have heard Garrick is liberal." JOHNSON. "Yes, sir, I know that Garrick has given away more money than any man in England that I am acquainted with, and that not from ostentatious views. Garrick was very poor when he began life; so when he came to have money, he probably was very unskilful in giving away, and saved when he should not. But Garrick began to be liberal as soon as he could; and I am of opinion, the reputation of avarice which he has had has been very lucky for him, and prevented his having many enemies. You despise a man for avarice, but do not hate him. Garrick might have been much better attacked for living with more splendour than is suitable to a player; if they had had the wit to have assaulted him in that quarter, they might have galled him more. But they have kept clamouring about his avarice, which has rescued him from much obloquy and envy.' Talking of the great difficulty of obtaining authentick information for biography, Johnson told us, "When I was a young fellow, I wanted to write the Life of Dryden 3,' and, in order to get materials, I applied to the only two persons then alive who had seen him; these were old Swinney 4, and old Cibber. Swinney's informa 3 [This was probably for "Cibber's Lives," as well as the "Life of Shakspeare," mentioned ante, p. 60, n.—I D..] 4 Owen M'Swinney, who died in 1754, and bequeathed his fortune to Mrs. Woffington, the actress. He had been a manager of Drury-lane. tion was no more than this,' That at Will's Dr. Johnson and Mr. Wilkes talked of coffee-house Dryden had a particular chair the contested passage in Horace's "Art of for himself, which was set by the fire in Poetry," Difficile est propriè communia winter, and was then called his winter dicere. Mr. Wilkes, according to my note, chair; and that it was carried out for him gave the interpretation thus: "It is difficult to the balcony in summer, and was then to speak with propriety of common things; called his summer chair.' Cibber could tell as, if a poet had to speak of Queen Carono more but that he remembered him a line drinking tea, he must endeavour to decent old man, arbiter of critical disputes avoid the vulgarity of cups and saucers." at Will's.' You are to consider that Cib- But, upon reading my note, he tells me that ber was then at a great distance from Dry- he meant to say, that "the word comden, had perhaps one leg only in the room, munia being a Roman law term, signifies and durst not draw in the other." Bos- here things communis juris, that is to say, WELL. "Yet Cibber was a man of obser- what have never yet been treated by any vation ?" JOHNSON. "I think not. " body; and this appears clearly from what BOSWELL. "You will allow his Apology' followed, to be well done." JOHNSON. "Very well done, to be sure, sir. That book is a striking proof of the justice of Pope's remark: ‹ Each might his several province well command, Would all but stoop to what they understand.'"' BOSWELL. "And his plays are good." JOHNSON. "Yes; but that was his trade; l'esprit du corps; he had been all his life among players and play-writers. I wondered that he had so little to say in conversation, for he had kept the best company, and learnt all that can be got by the ear. He abused Pindar to me, and then showed me an ode of his own, with an absurd couplet, making a linnet soar on an eagle's wing. I told him that when the ancients made a simile, they always made it like something real." Mr. Wilkes remarked, that ". among all the bold flights of Shakspeare's imagination, the boldest was making Birnam-wood march to Dunsinane; creating a wood where there never was a shrub; a wood in Scotland! ha! ha! ha!" And he also observed, that "the clannish slavery of the Highlands of Scotland was the single exception to Mi!ton's remark of the mountain nymph, sweet Liberty,' being worshipped in all hilly countries." "When I was at Inverary," said he, "on a visit to my old friend Archibald, Duke of Argyle, his dependants congratulated me on being such a favourite of his grace. I said, 'It is, then, gentlemen, truly lucky for me; for if I had displeased the duke, and he had wished it, there is not a Campbell among you but would have been ready to bring John Wilkes's head to him in a charger. It would have been only Off with his head! so much for Aylesbury.' I was then member for Aylesbury." theatre, and afterwards of the Queen's theatre in the Haymarket. He was also a dramatick writer, having produced a comedy entitled "The Quacks, or Love's the Physician," 1705, and two operas.-MALONE. See ante, v. i. p. 181.-BoswELL. -Tuque Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus, "Si quid inexpertum scenæ committis, et audes Unde pedem proferre pudor vetat aut operis lex." The "Commentary" thus illustrates it: "Put the formation of quite new characters is a work of great difficulty and hazard. For here there is no generally received and fixed archetype to work after, but every one judges of common right according to the extent and comprehension of his old characters and subjects, particularly those own idea; therefore he advises to labour and refit made known and authorized by the practice of Homer and the epic writers." The note is, Difficile est propriè communia dicere." Lambin's comment is "Communia hoc loco appellat Horatius argumenta fabularum à nullo adhuc tractata: et ita, quæ cuivis exposita sunt et in medio quodammodo posita, quasi vacua et à nemine occupata." And that this is the true meaning of communia is evidently fixed by the words ignota indictaque, which are explanatory of it; so that the sense given it in the commentary is unquestionably the right one. Yet, notwithstanding the clearness of the case, a late critick has this strange passage: "Difficile quidem esse propriè communia dicere, hoc est, materiem vulgarem, notam et è medio petitam, ita immutare atque exornare, ut nova et scriptori propria videatur, WILKES. "We have no city-poet now: that is an office which has gone into disuse. The last was Elkanah Settle. There is something in names which one cannot help feeling. Now Elkanah Settle sounds so queer, who can expect much from that name? We should have no hesitation to give it for John Dryden, in preference to Elkanah Settle, from the names only, without knowing their different merits." JOHNSON. "I suppose, sir, Settle did as well for alderman in his time, as John Home could do now. Where did Beckford and Tre cothick learn English?" Mr. Arthur Lee mentioned some Scotch who had taken possession of a barren part ultro concedimus; et maximi procul dubio ponderis ista est observatio. Sed omnibus utrinque collatis, et tum difficilis tum venusti, tam judicii quam ingenii ratione habitâ, major videtur esse gloria fabulam formare penitùs novam, quàm veterem, utcunque mutatam de novo exhibere."-Poet. Præl. v. ii. p. 164. Where, having first put a wrong construction on the word communia, he employs it to introduce an impertinent criticism. For where does the poet prefer the glory of refitting old subjects to that of inventing new ones? The contrary is implied in what he urges about the superior difficulty of the latter, from which he dissuades his countrymen, only in respect of their abilities and inexperience in these matters; and in order to cultivate in them, which is the main view of the epistle, a spirit of correctness, by sending them to the old subjects, treated by the Greek writers. For my own part (with all deference for Dr. Hurd, who thinks the case clear), I consider the passage, "Difficile est propriè communia dicere," to be a crux for the criticks on Horace. The explication which my Lord of Worcester treats with so much contempt is, nevertheless, countenanced by authority which I find quoted by the learned Baxter in his edition of Horace, " Difficile est propriè communia dicere, h. é. res vulgares disertis verbis enarrare, vel humile thema cum dignitate tractare. Difficile est communes res propriis explicare verbis. Vet. Schol." I was much disappointed to find that the great critick, Dr. Bentley, has no note upon this very difficult passage, as from his vigorous and illuminated mind I should have expected to receive more satisfaction than I have yet had. Sanadon thus treats of it: "Propriè communia dicere: c'est à dire, qu'il n'est pas aisé de former à ces personnages d'imagination, des caractères particuliers et cependant vraisemblables. Comme l'on a été le maître de les former tels qu'on a voulu, les fautes que l'on fait en cela sont moins pardonnables. C'est pourquoi Horace conseille de prendre toujours des sujets connus, tels que sont par exemple ceux que l'on peut tirer des poemes d'Homère." And Dacier observes upon it, "Après avoir marqué les deux qualités qu'il faut donner aux personnages qu'on invente, il conseille aux poètes tragiques, de n'user pas trop of America, and wondered why they should choose it. JOHNSON. "Why, sir, all barrenness is comparative. The Scotch would not know it to be barren." Boswell. "Come, come, he is flattering the English. You have now been in Scotland, sir, and say if you did not see meat and drink enough there." JOHNSON. Why, yes, sir; meat and drink enough to give the inhabitants sufficient strength to run away from home." All these quick and lively sallies were said sportively, quite in jest, and with a smile, which showed that he meant only wit. Upon this topick he and Mr. Wilkes could perfectly assimilate; here was a bond of union between them, and I was conscious that as both of them had visited Caledonia, both were fully satisfied of the strange narrow ignorance of those facilement de cette liberté qu'ils ont d'en inventer, car il est très difficile de réussir dans ces nouveaux caractères. Il est mal aisé, dit Horace, de traiter proprement, c'est à dire, convenablement des sujets communs; c'est à dire, des sujets inventés, et qui n'ont aucun fondement ni dans l'histoire ui dans la fable; et il les appelle communs, parcequ'ils sont en disposition à tout le monde, et que tout le monde a le droit de les inventer, et qu'ils sont, comme on dit, au premier occupant." See his observations at large on this expression and the following. After all, I cannot help entertaining some doubt whether the words Difficile est propriè communia dicere may not have been thrown in by Horace to form a separate article in a "choice of difficulties" which a poet has to encounter who chooses a new subject; in which case it must be uncertain which of the various explanations is the true one, and every reader has a right to decide as it may strike his own fancy. And even should the words be understood, as they generally are, to be connected both with what goes before and what comes after, the exact sense cannot be absolutely ascertained; for instance, whether propriè is meant to signify in an appropriated manner, as Dr. Johnson here understands it, or, as it is often used by Cicero, with propriety or elegantly. In short, it is a rare instance of a defect in perspicuity in an admirable writer, who, with almost every species of excellence, is peculiarly remarkable for that quality. The length of this note perhaps requires an apology. Many of my readers, I doubt not, will admit that a critical discussion of a passage in a favourite classick is very engaging.-BOSWELL. [This passage was the subject of an ingenious discussion between the young Marquis de Sevigné and M. Dacier, which will be found, together with Sanadon's and Dumarsais' opinions, in the last volume of the best edition of Madame de Sevigne's letters. It seems to result from the whole discussion that, in the ordinary meaning of the words, the passage is obscure, and that, to make sense, we must either alter the words, or assign to them an unusual interpretation. All commentators are agreed-by the help of the context-what the general meaning must be, but no one seems able verbum verbo reddere fidus interpres.-ED.] Mr. Wilkes held a candle to show a fine print of a beautiful female figure which hung in the room, and pointed out the elegant contour of the bosom with the finger of an arch connoisseur. He afterwards in a conversation with me waggishly insisted, that all the time Johnson showed visible signs of a fervent admiration of the corresponding charms of the fair Quaker. who imagine that it is a land of famine. | governed Scotland only, I should not have But they amused themselves with persever- taken the trouble to write his eulogy, and ing in the old jokes. When I claimed a dedicate MORTIMER' to him." superiority for Scotland over England in one respect, that no man can be arrested there for a debt merely because another swears it against him; but there must first be the judgment of a court of law ascertaining its justice; and that a seizure of the person, before judgment is obtained, can take place only if his creditor should swear that he is about to fly from the country, or, as it is technically expressed, is in meditatione fuge. WILKES. "That, I should think, may be safely sworn of all the Scotch nation." JOHNSON (to Mr. Wilkes). "You must know, sir, I lately took my friend Boswell, and showed him genuine civilized life in an English provincial town. I turned him loose at Lichfield, my native city, that he might see for once real civility; for you know he lives among savages in Scotland, and among rakes in London." WILKES. Except when he is with grave, sober, decent people, like you and me." JOHNSON (Smiling). "And we ashamed of him." They were quite frank and easy. Johnson told the story of his asking Mrs. Macaulay to allow her footman to sit down with them, to prove the ridiculousness of the argument for the equality of mankind; and he said to me afterwards, with a nod of satisfaction, "You saw Mr. Wilkes acquiesced." Wilkes talked with all imaginable freedom of the ludicrous title given to the attorney-general, Diabolus regis; adding, "I have reason to know something about that officer; for I was prosecuted for a libel." Johnson, who many people would have supposed must have been furiously angry at hearing this talked of so lightly, said not a word. He was now, indeed, "a good-humoured fellow." After dinner we had an accession of Mrs. Knowles, the Quaker lady, well known for her various talents, and of Mr. Alderman Lee. Amidst some patriotick groans, somebody (I think the alderman) said, "Poor old England is lost." JOHNSON. "Sir, it is not so much to be lamented that old England is lost, as that the Scotch have found it." WILKES. "Had Lord Bute [It is to this gentleman that allusion is supposed to be made in the following anecdote: "Some one mentioned a gentleman of that party for having behaved oddly on an occasion where faction was not concerned: Is he not a citizen of London, a native of North America, and a whig?' said Johnson. Let him be absurd, I beg of you: when a monkey is too like a man, it shocks one.'"' -Piozzi, p. 64.-ED.] It would not become me to expatiate on this strong and pointed remark, in which a very great deal of meaning is condensed.-BOSWELL. This record, though by no means so perfect as I could wish, will serve to give a notion of a very curious interview, which was not only pleasing at the time, but had the agreeable and benignant effect of reconciling any animosity, and sweetening any acidity, which, in the various bustle of political con test, had been produced in the minds of two men, who, though widely different, had so many things in common-classical learn ing, modern literature, wit and humour, and ready repartee-that it would have been much to be regretted if they had been for ever at a distance from each other. Mr. Burke gave me much credit for this successful negotiation; and pleasantly said, "that there was nothing equal to it in the whole history of the corps diplomatique.” I attended Dr. Johnson home, and had the satisfaction to hear him tell Mrs. Williains how much he had been pleased with Mr. Wilkes's company, and what an agreeable day he had passed. [The following is Dr. Johnson's own good-humoured account to Mrs. Thrale of this meeting. ED. "For my part I begin to settle, Letters, and keep company with grave alder- vol. i. men. I dined yesterday in the Poul- p. 325. try with Mr. Alderman Wilkes, and Mr. Alderman Lee, and Councillor Lee, his brother. There sat you the while thinking, What is Johnson doing? What should he be doing? He is breaking jokes with Jack Wilkes upon the Scotch. Such, madam, are the vicissitudes of things! And there was Mrs. Knowles, the Quaker, that works the sutile pictures 3, who is a great admirer of your conversation."] I talked a good deal to him of the celebrated Margaret Caroline Rudd, whom I had visited, induced by the fame of her talents, address, and irresistible power of fascination'. To a lady who disapproved of my visiting her, he said on a former occa 3 [Mrs. Piozzi had printed this "futile pictures." They were copies of pictures in needlework.-ED.] 4 [See ante, p. 38. Her power of fascination was celebrated, because it was the fashion to suppose that she had fascinated her lover to the gallows.-ED.] |