'Why, then, sir,' said he, 'Horace and you must settle it.' He was not much in the humour of talking. No more of his conversation for some days appears in my journal, except that when a gentleman told him he had bought a suit of lace for his lady, he said, 'Well, sir, you have done a good thing and a wise thing.' 'I have done a good thing,' said the gentleman, 'but I do not know that I have done a wise thing." JOHNSON: 'Yes, sir; no money is better spent than what is laid out for domestic satisfaction. A man is pleased that his wife is dressed as well as other people; and a wife is pleased that she is dressed.' On Friday, April 14, being Good Friday, I repaired to him in the morning, according to my usual custom on that day, and breakfasted with him. I observed that he fasted so very strictly, that he did not even taste bread, and took no milk with his tea-I suppose because it is a kind of animal food. He entered upon the state of the nation, and thus discoursed: 'Sir, the great misfortune now is that Government has too little power. All that it has to bestow must of necessity be given to support itself, so that it cannot reward merit. No man, for instance, can now be made a bishop or his learning and piety;1 his only chance for promotion is his being connected with somebody who has parliamentary interest. Our several ministers in this reign have outbid each other in concessions to the people. Lord Bute, though a very honourable man, -a man who meant well, a man who had his blood full of prerogative, was a theoretical statesman, a bookminister, and thought this country could be governed by the influence of the Crown alone. Then, sir, he gave up a great deal. He advised the King to agree that the judges should hold their places for life, instead of losing them at the accession of a new king. Lord Bute, I suppose, thought to make the King popular by this concession; but the people never minded it; and it was a most impolitic measure. There is no reason why a judge should hold his office for life, more than any other person in public trust. A judge may be partial otherwise than to the Crown: we have seen judges partial to the populace. A judge may become corrupt, and yet there may not be legal evidence against him. A judge may become froward from A judge may grow unfit for his office in many ways. It was desirable that there should be a possibility of being delivered from him by a new king. That is now gone by an act of Parliament ex gratiâ of the Crown. Lord Bute advised the King to give up a very large sum of money, for which nobody thanked him. It was of consequence to the King, but nothing age. 1 From this too just observation there are some eminent exceptions. --BOSWELL. • The money arising from the property of the prizes taken before the declaration of war, which were given to the public among whom it was divided. When I say Lord Bute advised, I mean that such acts were done when he was minister, and we are to suppose that he advised them.-Lord Bute showed an undue partiality to Scotchmen. He turned out Dr. Nichols, a very eminent man, from being physician to the King, to make room for one of his countrymen, a man very low in his profession. He had to go on errands for him. He had occasion for people to go on errands for him, but he should not have had Scotchmen; and certainly he should not have suffered them to have access to him before the first people in Englan 1.' and I told him that the admission of one of them before the first people in England, which had given the greatest offence, was no more than what happens at every minister's levee, where those who attend are admitted in the order that they have come, which is better than admitting them according to their rank; for if that were to be the rule, a man who has waited all the morning might have the mortification to see a peer, newly come, go in before him, and keep him waiting still. JOHNSON: 'True, sir; but should not have come to the levee, to be in the way of people of consequence. He saw Lord Bute at all times; and could have said what he had to say at any time, as well as at the levee. There is now no Prime Minister; there is only an agent for Government in the House of Commons. We are governed by the Cabinet; but there is no one head there since Sir Robert Walpole's time.' BOSWELL: 'What then, sir, is the use of Parliament?' 'JOHNSON: 'Why, sir, Parliament is a large council to the King; and the advantage of such a council is having a great number of men of property concerned in the legislature, who, for their own interest, will not consent to bad laws And you must have observed, sir, the administration is feeble and timid, and cannot act with that authority and resolution which is necessary. Were I in power, I would turn out every man who dared to oppose me. Government has the distribution of offices that it may be enabled to maintain its authority.' 'Lord Bute,' he added, 'took down too fast to his Majesty by the Peace of Paris, and amounted to upwards of £700,000, and from the lands in the ceded islands, which were estimated at £200,000 more. Surely there was a noble munificence in this gift from a monarch to his people. And let it be remembered, that during the Earl of Bute's administration, the King was graciously pleased to give up the hereditary revenues of the Crown, and to accept, instead of them, of the limited sum of £800,000 a year: upon which Blackstone observes, that 'The hereditary revenues, being put under the same management as the other branches of the public patrimony, will produce more and be better collected than heretofore; and the public is a gainer of upwards of £100,000 per annum by this disinterested bounty of his Majesty.'-Book 1. chap. viii. p. 330.-BOSWELL without building up something new.' BosWELL: 'Because, sir, he found a rotten building. The political coach was drawn by a set of bad horses, it was necessary to change them.' JOHNSON: 'But he should have changed them one by one.' I told him that I had been informed by Mr. Orme that many parts of the East Indies were better mapped than the Highlands of Scotland. JOHNSON: 'That a country may be mapped, it must be travelled over.' 'Nay,' said I, meaning to laugh with him at one of his prejudices, 'can't you say it is not worth mapping?' As we walked to St. Clement's Church, and saw several shops open upon this most solemn fast-day of the Christian world, I remarked that one disadvantage arising from the immensity of London was that nobody was heeded by his neighbour; there was no fear of censure for not observing Good Friday as it ought to be kept, and as it is kept in country towns. He said it was, upon the whole, very well observed even in London. He, however, owned that London was too large; but added, 'It is nonsense to say the head is too big for the body. It would be as much too big though the body were ever so large; that is to say, though the country were ever so extensive. It has no similarity to a head connected with a body.' Dr. Wetherell, Master of the University College, Oxford, accompanied us home from church; and after he was gone, there came two other gentlemen, one of whom uttered the commonplace complaints, that by the increase of taxes labour would be dear, other nations would undersell us, and our commerce would be ruined. JOHNSON (smiling): 'Never fear, sir. Our commerce is in a very good state; and suppose we had no commerce at all, we could live very well on the produce of our own country.' I cannot omit to mention, that I never knew any man less disposed to be querulous than Johnson. Whether the subject was his own situation, or the state of the public, or the state of human nature in general, though he saw the evils, his mind was turned to resolution and never to whining or complaint. noon. We went again to St. Clement's in the afterHe had found fault with the preacher in the morning for not choosing a text adapted to the day. The preacher in the afternoon had chosen one extremely proper: 'It is finished.' After the evening service, he said, 'Come, you shall go home with me, and sit just an hour.' But he was better than his word; for after we had drunk tea with Mrs. Williams, he asked me to go up to his study with him, where we sat a long while together in a serene, undis turbed frame of mind, sometimes in silence, and sometimes conversing, as we felt ourselves inclined, or more properly speaking, as he was inclined; for during all the course of my long intimacy with him, my respectful attention never abated, and my wish to hear him was such that I constantly watched every dawning of communication from that great and illuminated mind. He observed, 'All knowledge is of itself of some value. There is nothing so minute or inconsiderable, that I would not rather know it than not. In the same manner all power, of whatever sort, is of itself desirable. A man would not submit to learn to hem a ruffle of his wife, or of his wife's maid; but if a mere wish could attain it, he would rather wish to be able to hem a ruffle.' He again advised me to keep a journal fully and minutely, but not to mention such trifles as that meat was too much or too little done, or that the weather was fair or rainy. He had till very near his death a contempt for the notion that the weather affects the human frame. I told him that our friend Goldsmith had said to me that he had come too late into the world, for that Pope and other poets had taken up the places in the Temple of Fame; so that, as but a few at any period can possess poetical reputation, a man of genius can now hardly acquire it. JOHNSON: 'That is one of the most sensible things I have ever heard of Goldsmith. It is difficult to get literary fame, and it is every day growing more difficult. Ah, sir, that should make a man think of securing happiness in another world, which all who try sincerely for it may attain. In comparison of that, how little are all other things! The belief of immortality is impressed upon all men, and all men act under an impression of it, however they may talk, and though perhaps they may be scarcely sensible of it.' I said it appeared to me that some people had not the least notion of immortality; and I mentioned a distinguished gentleman of our acquaintance. JOHNSON: 'Sir, if it were not for the notion of immortality, he would cut a throat to fill his pockets.' When I quoted this to Beauclerk, who knew much more of the gentleman than we did, he said in his acid manner, 'He would cut a throat to fill his pockets, if it were not for fear of being hanged.' Dr. Johnson proceeded: 'Sir, there is a great cry about infidelity, but there are in reality very few infidels. I have heard a person, originally a Quaker, but now I am afraid a Deist, say that he did not believe there were, in all England, above two hundred infidels.' He was pleased to say, 'If you come to settle here, we will have one day in the week on which we will meet by ourselves. That is the happiest conversation where there is no competition, no vanity, but a calm, quiet interchange of sentiments.' In his private register this evening is thus marked : 'Boswell sat with me till night; we had some serious talk.'" 1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 128. It also appears from the same record, that after I left him he was occupied in religious duties, in 'giving Francis, his servant, some directions for preparation to communicate; in reviewing his life, and resolving on better con duct.' The humility and piety which he discovers on such occasions is truly edifying. No saint, however, in the course of his religious warfare, was more sensible of the unhappy failure of pious resolves than Johnson. He said one day, talking to an acquaintance on this subject, 'Sir, Hell is paved with good intentions.'1 On Sunday, April 16, being Easter-day, after having attended the solemn service at St Paul's, I dined with Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Williams. I maintained that Horace was wrong in placing happiness in Nil admirari, for that I thought admiration one of the most agreeable of all our feelings; and I regretted that I had lost much of my disposition to admire, which people generally do as they advance in life. JOHNSON: 'Sir, as a man advances in life, he gets what is better than admiration, -judgment, to estimate things at their true value.' I still insisted that admiration was more pleasing than judgment, as love is more pleasing than friendship. The feeling of friendship is like that of being comfortably filled with roast beef; love, like being enlivened with champagne. JOHNSON: 'No, sir; admiration and love are like being intoxicated with champagne; judgment and friendship like being enlivened. Waller has hit upon the same thought with you; but I don't believe you have borrowed from Waller. I wish you would enable yourself to borrow more.' He then took occasion to enlarge on the advantages of reading, and combated the idle, superficial notion that knowledge enough may be acquired in conversation. 'The foundation,' said he, 'must be laid by reading. General principles must be had from books, which, however, must be brought to the test of real life. In conversation you never get a system. What is said upon a subject is to be gathered from a hundred people. The parts of a truth which a man gets thus, are at such a distance from each other that he never attains to a full view.' O BENNET LANGTON, ESQ. 'April 17, 1775. 'DEAR SIR, -I have inquired more minutely about the medicine for the rheumatism, which 1 This is a proverbial sentence. 'Hell,' says Herbert, 'is full of good meanings and wishings.'-Jacula Prudentum, p. 11, edit. 1651.-MALONE. Amoret's as sweet and good That is mortal can sustain.'-BOSWELL. I am sorry to hear that you still want. The receipt is this : 'Take equal quantities of flour of sulphur and flour of mustard seed; make them an electuary with honey or treacle, and take a bolus as big as a nutmeg several times a day, as you can bear it, drinking after it a quarter of a pint of the infusion of the root of Lovage. 'Lovage, in Ray's Nomenclature, is Levisticum: perhaps the botanists may know the Latin name. 'Of this medicine I pretend not to judge. There is all the appearance of its efficacy which a single instance can afford. The patient was very old, the pain very violent, and the relief, I think, speedy and lasting. 'My opinion of alterative medicine is not high, but quid tentasse nocebit / If it does harm, or does no good, it may be omitted; but that it may do good, you have, I hope, reason to think is desired by, sir, your most affectionate humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.' CHAPTER XXXIL. 1775. On Tuesday, April 11, Johnson and I were engaged to go with Sir Joshua Reynolds to dine with Mr. Cambridge, at his beautiful villa on the banks of the Thames, near Twickenham. Dr. Johnson's tardiness was such, that Sir Joshua, who had an appointment at Richmond early in the day, was obliged to go by himself on horseback, leaving his coach to Johnson and me. Johnson was in such good spirits, that everything seemed to please him as we drove along. 'Public Our conversation turned on a variety of subjects. He thought portrait-painting an improper employment for a woman. practice of any art,' he observed, 'and staring in men's faces, is very indelicate in a female.' I happened to start a question, whether, when a man knows that some of his intimate friends are invited to the house of another friend with whom they are all equally intimate, he may join them without an invitation. JOHNSON: 'No, sir; he is not to go when he is not invited. They may be invited on purpose to abuse him' (smiling). As a curious instance how little a man knows, or wishes to know his own character in the world, or rather, as a convincing proof that Johnson's roughness was only external, and did not proceed from his heart, I insert the following dialogue. JOHNSON: 'It is wonderful, sir, how rare a quality good-humour is in life. We meet with very few good-humoured men.' I mentioned four of our friends, none of whom he would allow to be good-humoured. One was acid, another was muddy, and to the others he had objections which have escaped me. Then, shaking his head and stretching himself at ease in the coach, and smiling with much complacency, he turned to me and said, 'I look upon myself as a good-humoured fellow.' The epithet fellow, applied to the great Lexicographer, the stately Moralist, the masterly Critic, as if it had | been Sam Johnson, a mere pleasant companion, was highly diverting; and this light notion of himself struck me with wonder. I answered, also smiling, 'No, no, sir; that will not do. You are good-natured, but not good-humoured; you are irascible. You have not patience with folly and absurdity. I believe you would pardon them, if there were time to deprecate your vengeance; but punishment follows so quick after sentence that they cannot escape.' I had brought with me a great bundle of Scotch magazines and newspapers, in which his Journey to the Western Islands was attacked in every mode; and I read a great part of them to him, knowing they would afford him entertainment. I wish the writers of them had been present; they would have been sufficiently vexed. One ludicrous imitation of his style, by Mr. Maclaurin, now one of the Scotch judges, with the title of Lord Dreghorn, was distinguished by him from the rude mass. 'This,' said he, 'is the best. But I could caricature my own style much better myself.' He defended his remark upon the general insufficiency of education in Scotland; and he confirmed to me the authenticity of his witty saying on the learning of the Scotch:- 'Their learning is like bread in a besieged town: every man gets a little, but no man gets a full meal.' 'There is,' said he, 'in Scotland a diffusion of learning, a certain portion of it widely and thinly spread. A merchant has as much learning as one of their clergy.' He talked of Isaac Walton's Lives, which was one of his most favourite books. Dr. Donne's Life, he said, was the most perfect of them. He observed, that 'it was wonderful that Walton, who was in a very low situation of life, should have been familiarly received by so many great men, and that at a time when the ranks of society were kept more separate than they are now.' He supposed that Walton had then given up his business as a linen-draper and sempster, and was only an author; and added, 'that he was a great panegyrist.' BosWELL: 'No quality will get a man more friends than a disposition to admire the qualities of others. I do not mean flattery, but a sincere admiration.' JOHNSON: 'Nay, sir, flattery pleases very generally. In the first place, the flatterer may think what he says to be true; 1 Johnson's conjecture was erroneous. Walton did not retire from business till 1643. But in 1664 Dr. King, Bishop of Chichester, in a letter prefixed to his Lives, mentions his having been familiarly acquainted with him for forty years; and in 1631 he was so intimate with Dr. Donne, that he was one of the friends who attended him on his death-bed.-J. BoSWELL, jun. but in the second place, whether he thinks so or not, he certainly thinks those whom he flatters of consequence enough to be flattered.' I No sooner had we made our bow to Mr. Cambridge, in his library, than Johnson ran eagerly to one side of the room, intent on poring over the backs of the books.1 Sir Joshua observed (aside), 'He runs to the books as I do to the pictures; but I have the advantage. can see much more of the pictures than he can of the books.' Mr. Cambridge, upon this, politely said, 'Dr. Johnson, I am going, with your pardon, to accuse myself, for I have the same custom which I perceive you have. But it seems odd that one should have such a desire to look at the backs of books.' Johnson, ever ready for contest, instantly started from his reverie, wheeled about and answered, 'Sir, the reason is very plain. Knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information upon it. When we inquire into any subject, the first thing we have to do is to know what books have treated of it. This leads us to look at catalogues, and the backs of books in libraries.' Sir Joshua observed to me the extraordinary promptitude with which Johnson flew upon an argument. 'Yes,' said I, 'he has no formal preparation, no flourishing with his sword, he is through your body in an instant.' Johnson was here solaced with an elegant entertainment, a very accomplished family, and much good company; among whom was Mr. Harris, of Salisbury, who paid him many compliments on his Journey to the Western Islands. The common remark as to the utility of reading history being made: - JOHNSON : 'We must consider how very little history there is; I mean real authentic history. That certain kings reigned, and certain battles were fought, we can depend upon as true; but all the colouring, all the philosophy of history, is conjecture.' BoSWELL: 'Then, sir, you would reduce all history to no better than an almanac, a mere chronological series of remarkable events." Mr. Gibbon, who must at that time have been employed upon his history, of which he published the first volume in the following year, was present, but did not step forth in defence of that species of writing. He probably did not like to trust himself with Johnson. Johnson observed that the force of our early habits was so great, that though reason approved, nay, though our senses relished a different course, almost every man returned to them. I 1 The first time he dined with me, he was shown into my book-room, and instantly pored over the let tering of each volume within his reach. My collection of books is very miscellaneous, and I feared there might be some among them that he would not like. But seeing the number of volumes very considerable, he said, 'You are an honest man to have formed so great an accumulation of knowledge.'-BURNEY. do not believe there is any observation upon human nature better founded than this; and, in many cases, it is a very painful truth; for where early habits have been mean and wretched, the joy and elevation resulting from better modes of life must be damped by the gloomy consciousness of being under an almost inevitable doom to sink back into a situation which we recollect with disgust. It surely may be prevented by constant attention and unremitting exertion to establish contrary habits of superior efficacy. The Beggars' Opera, and the common question whether it was pernicious in its effects, having been introduced-JOHNSON: 'As to this matter, which has been very much contested, I myself am of opinion that more influence has been ascribed to The Beggars' Opera than it in reality ever had; for I do not believe that any man was ever made a rogue by being present at its representation. At the same time, I do not deny that it may have some influence, by making the character of a rogue familiar, and in some degree pleasing.' Then collecting himself, as it were, to give a heavy stroke: 'There is in it such a labefactation of all principles as may be injurious to morality.' While he pronounced this response, we sat in a comical sort of restraint, smothering a laugh, which we were afraid might burst out. In his life of Gay he has been still more decisive as to the inefficiency of The Beggars' Opera in corrupting society. But I have ever thought somewhat differently; for, indeed, not only are the gaiety and heroism of a highwayman very captivating to a youthful imagination, but the arguments for adventurous depredation are so plausible, the allusions so lively, and the contrasts with the ordinary and more painful modes of acquiring property are so artfully displayed, that it requires a cool and strong judgment to resist so imposing an aggregate: yet, I own, I should be very sorry to have The Beggars' Opera suppressed; for there is in it so much of real London life, so much brilliant wit, and such a variety of airs, which, from early association of ideas, engage, soothe, and enliven the mind, that no performance which the theatre exhibits delights me more. The late 'worthy' Duke of Queensberry, as 1 A very eminent physician, whose discernment is as acute and penetrating in judging of the human character as it is in his own profession, remarked once at a club where I was, that a lively young man, fond of pleasure, and without money, would hardly resist a solicitation from his mistress to go upon the highway, immediately after being present at the representation of The Beggars' Opera. I have been told of an ingenious observation by Mr. Gibbon, that 'The Beggars' Opera may perhaps have sometimes increased the number of highwaymen; but that it has had a beneficial effect in refining that class of men, making them less ferocious, more polite-in short, more like gentlemen.' Upon which, Mr. Courtenay said that 'Gay was the Orpheus of highwaymen.'-BOSWELL. Thomson, in his Seasons, justly characterizes him, told me, that when Gay showed him The Beggars' Opera, his Grace's observation was, 'This is a very odd thing, Gay; I am satisfied that it is either a very good thing or a very bad thing.' It proved the former, beyond the warmest expectations of the author or his friends. Mr. Cambridge, however, showed us to-day that there was good reason enough to doubt concerning its success. He was told by Quin, that during the first night of its appearance it was long in a very dubious state; that there was a disposition to damn it, and that it was saved by the song, 'Oh ponder well! be not severe l' the audience being much affected by the innocent looks of Polly, when she came to those two lines, which exhibit at once a painful and ludicrous image, For on the rope that hangs my dear, Quin himself had so bad an opinion of it, that he refused the part of Captain Macheath, and gave it to Walker, who acquired great celebrity by his grave yet animated performance of it. We talked of a young gentleman's1 marriage with an eminent singer, and his determination that she should no longer sing in public, though his father was very earnest she should, because her talents would be liberally rewarded, so as to make her a good fortune. It was questioned whether the young gentleman, who had not a shilling in the world, but was blest with very uncommon talents, was not foolishly delicate, or foolishly proud, and his father truly rational, without being mean. JOHNSON, with all the high spirit of a Roman senator, exclaimed, 'He resolved wisely and nobly, to be sure. He is a brave man. Would not a gentleman be disgraced by having his wife singing publicly for hire? No, sir, there can be no doubt here. I know not if I should not prepare myself for a public singer as readily as let my wife be one.' Johnson arraigned the modern politics of this country, as entirely devoid of all principle of whatever kind. 'Politics,' said he, 'are now nothing more than means of rising in the world. With this sole view do men engage in politics, and their whole conduct proceeds upon it. How different in that respect is the state of the nation now from what it was in the time of Charles the First, during the Usurpation, and after the Restoration, in the time of Charles the Second! Hudibras affords a strong proof how much hold political principles had then upon the minds of There is in Hudibras a great deal of bullion which will always last. But, to be sure, the brightest strokes of his wit owed their force to the impression of the characters which was upon men's minds at the time; to their knowing them at table and in the street; in short, being familiar men. 1 Believed to be Richard Brinsley Sheridan. |