I should as soon have thought of building a man of war, as of collecting 1776.

. fuch a museum.”. Mr. Green's obliging alacrity in Thewing it was very

Ætat. 67. pleasing. His engraved portrait, with which he has favoured me, has a motto truly characteristical of his disposition, “ Nemo fibi vivat.”

A physician being mentioned who had lost his practice, because his whimsically changing his religion had made people distrustful of him, I maintained that this was unreasonable, as religion is unconnected with medical skill. Johnson. “ Sir, it is not unreasonable ; for when people see a man absurd in what they understand, they may conclude the same of him in what they do not understand. If a physician were to take to eating of horse-feh, nobody

. would employ him; though one may eat horse-flesh, and be a very skilful physician. If a man were educated in an absurd religion, his continuing to profess it would not hurt him, though his changing to it would.”

We: drank tea and coffee at Mr. Peter Garrick's, where was Mrs. Aston, one of the maiden sisters of Mrs. Walmsley, wife of Johnson's first friend, and fister also of the lady of whom Johnson used to speak with the warmest admiration, by the name of Molly Aston, who was afterwards married to Captain Brodie of the navy.

On Sunday, March 24, we breakfasted with Mrs. Cobb, a widow lady, who lived in an agreeable sequestered place close by the town, called the Friary, it having been formerly a religious house. She and her niece, Miss Adey, were great admirers of Dr. Johnson; and he behaved to them with a kindness and easy pleasantry, such as we fee between old and intimate acquaintance. He accompanied Mrs. Cobb to St. Mary's church, and I went to the cathedral, where I was very much delighted with the musick, finding it to be peculiarly folemn, and accordant with the words of the service.

We dined at Mr. Peter Garrick's, who was in a very lively humour, and verified Johnson's saying, that if he had cultivated gaiety as much as his brother David, he might have equally excelled in it. He was to-day quite a London narrator, telling us a variety of anecdotes with that earnestness and attempt at mimickry which we usually find in the wits of the metropolis. Dr. Johnson went with me to the cathedral in the afternoon. It was grand and pleasing to contemplate this illustrious writer, now full of fame, worshipping in" the folemn temple” of his native city.

I returned to tea and coffee at Mr. Peter Garrick's, and then found Dr. Johnson at the Reverend Mr. Seward's, Canon Residentiary, who inhabited the Bishop's palace, in which Mr. Walmsley lived, and which had been the scene of many happy hours in Johnson's early life. Mr. Seward had, with

the

1776. ecclesiastical hospitality and politeness, asked me in the morning, merely as a Atat. 67. stranger, to dine with him; and in the afternoon, when I was introduced to

him, he asked Dr. Johnson and me to spend the evening and sup with him. He was a genteel well-bred dignified clergyman, had travelled with Lord Charles Fitzroy, uncle of the present Duke of Grafton, who died when abroad, and he had lived much in the great world. He was an ingenious and literary man, had published an edition of Beaumont and Fletcher, and written verses in Dodsley's collection. His lady was the daughter of Mr. Hunter, Johnson's first schoolmaster. And now, for the first time, I had the pleasure of seeing his celebrated daughter, Miss Anna Seward, to whom I have since been indebted for many civilities, as well as some obliging communications concerning Johnson.

Mr. Seward mentioned to us the observations which he had made upon strata of earth in volcanos, from which it appeared, that they were so very different in depth in different periods, that no calculation whatever could be made as to the time required for their formation. This fully refuted an antimosaical remark introduced into Captain Brydone's entertaining Tour, I hope heedlessly, from a kind of vanity which is too common in those who have not fufficiently studied the most important of all subjects. Dr. Johnson, indeed,

, , had said before, independent of this observation, “ Shall all the accumulated evidence of the history of the world ;-—shall the authority of what is unquestionably the most ancient writing, be overturned by an uncertain remark such as this?”,

On Monday, March 25, we breakfasted at Mrs. Lucy Porter's. He had sent an express to Dr. Taylor's, acquainting him of our being at Lichfield, and Taylor had returned an answer that his post-chaise should come for us this day. While we sat at breakfast, Dr. Johnson received a letter by the post, which seemed to agitate him very much. When he had read it, he exclaimed, “One of the most dreadful things that has happened in my time.” The phrase my time, like the word age, is usually understood to refer to an event of a publick or general nature. I imagined fomething like an assassination of the King-like a gunpowder plot carried into execution—or like another fire of London. When asked, “ What is it, Sir?” he answered, “ Mr. Thrale has lost his only fon!” This was, no doubt, a very great aMiction to Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, which their friends would consider accordingly; but from the manner in which the intelligence of it was communicated by Johnson, it appeared for the moment to be comparatively small. I however, foon felt a sincere concern, and was curious to observe how Dr. Johnson would

be

a

be affected. He said, “ This is a total extinction to their family, as much as 1776.
if they were sold into captivity.” Upon my mentioning that Mr. Thrale Ætat. 77.
had daughters, who might inherit his wealth ;—“ Daughters, (said Johnson,
warmly,) he'll no more value his daughters than—"

I was going to
speak.—“Sir, (faid he,) don't you know how you yourself think? Sir, he
wishes to propagate his name.” In short, I saw male succession strong in his
mind, even where there was no name, no family of any long standing. I
faid, it was lucky he was not present when this misfortune happened. Johnson.
" It is lucky for me. People in distress never think that you feel enough.”
Boswell. “ And, Sir, they will have the hope of seeing you, which will be
a relief in the mean time; and when you get to them, the pain will be so far
abated, that they will be capable of being consoled by you, which, in the first
violence of it, I believe, would not be the case.” Johnson. “ No, Sir;

“
violent pain of mind, as violent pain of body, must be severely felt.”
Boswell. “ I own, Sir, I have not so much feeling for the distress of others,
as some people have, or pretend to have: but I know this, that I would do
all in my power to relieve them.” Johnson. “ Sir, it is affectation to pre-
tend to feel the distress of others, as much as they do themselves. It is
equally so, as if one should pretend to feel as much pain while a friend's
leg is cutting off, as he does. No, Sir; you have expressed the rational and
jult nature of sympathy. I would have gone to the extremity of the earth
to have preserved this boy.”

He was soon quite calm. The letter was from Mr. Thrale's clerk, and
concluded, “I need not say how much they wish to see you in London.”'
He said, “ We shall hasten back from Taylor's.”

Mrs. Lucy Porter and some other ladies of the place talked a great deal of him when he was out of the room, not only with veneration but affection. It pleased me to find that he was so much beloved in his native city.

Mrs. Aston, whom I had seen the preceding night, and her sister, Mrs. Gastrel, a widow lady, had each a house and garden, and pleasure ground, prettily situated upon Stowhill, a gentle eminence adjoining to Lic: field. Johnson walked away to dinner there, leaving me by myself without any apology; I wondered at this want of that facility of manners, from which a man has no difficulty in carrying a friend to a house where he is intimate; I felt it very unpleasant to be thus left in folitude in a country town, where I was an entire stranger, and began to think myself unkindly deserted; but I was soon relieved, and convinced that my friend instead of being deficient in delicacy, had conducted the matter with perfect propriety, for I received the following

1776. note in his hand-writing: “Mrs. Gastrel, at the lower house on Stowhill,

, Ætat. 67. desires Mr. Boswell's company to dinner at two." I accepted of the

invitation, and had here another proof how amiable his character was in the opinion of those who knew him best. I was not informed, till afterwards, that Mrs. Gastrel's husband was the clergyman who, while he lived at Stratford upon Avon, where he was proprietor of Shakspeare's garden, with Gothick barbarity cut down his mulberry-tree, and, as Dr. Johnson told me, did it to vex his neighbours. His lady, I have reason to believe, participated in the guilt of what the enthusiasts for our immortal bard deen almost a species of facrilege.

After dinner Dr. Johnson wrote a letter to Mrs. Thrale, on the death of her son. I said it would be very distressing to Thrale, but she would foon forget it, as she had so many things to think of. Johnson. “ No, Sir, Thrale will forget it first. She has many things that she may think of. He has many things that he must think of.” This was a very just remark upon the different effect of those light pursuits which occupy a vacant and easy mind, and those ferious engagements which arrest attention, and keep us from brooding over grief.

He observed of Lord Bute, “It was said of Augustus, that it would have been better for Rome that he had never been born, or had never died. So it would have been better for this nation if Lord Bute had never been minister, or had never resigned.”

In the evening we went to the Town-hall, which was converted into a temporary theatre, and saw “Theodosius,” with “ The Stratford Jubilee.” I was happy to see Dr. Johnson sitting in a conspicuous part of the pit, and receiving affectionate homage from all his acquaintance. We were quite gay and merry. I afterwards mentioned to him that I condemned myself for being so, when poor Mr. and Mrs. Thrale were in such distress. Johnson.

. “ You are wrong, Sir ; twenty years hence Mr. and Mrs. Thrale will not suffer much pain from the death of their son. Now, Sir, you are to consider that distance of place, as well as distance of time, operates upon the human feelings. I would not have you be gay in the presence of the distressed, because it would shock them; but you may be gay at a distance. Pain for the loss of a friend, or of a relation whom we love, is occasioned by the want which we feel. In time the vacuity is filled with something else; or, sometimes the vacuity closes up of itself.”

Mr. Seward and Mr. Pearson, another clergyman here, supt with us at our inn, and after they left us, we sat up late as we used to do in London.

Herc 1776.

Ætat. 67.

Here I shall record fome fragments of my friend's conversation during this jaunt.

« Marriage, Sir, is much more necessary to a man than to a woman; for he is much less able to supply himself with domestick comforts. You will recollect my saying to some ladies the other day, that I had often wondered why young women should marry, as they have so much more freedom, and so much more attention paid to them while unmarried, than when married. I indeed did not mention the strong reason for their marrying—the mechanical reason." Boswell.“ Why that is a strong one. ”

. But does not imagination make it seem much more important than it is in reality? Is it not, to a certain degree, a delusion in us as well as in women ?” Johnson. “Why yes, Sir; but it is a delusion that is always beginning again.” Boswell. “I don't

I know but there is upon the whole more misery than happiness produced by that passion.” Johnson. “ I don't think so, Sir.”

“ Never speak of a man in his own presence. It is always indelicate, and may be offensive.”

Questioning is not the mode of conversation among gentlemen. It is assuming a fuperiority, and it is particularly wrong to question a man concerning himself. There may be parts of his former life which he may not wish to be made known to other persons, or even brought to his own recollection.”

" A man should be careful never to tell tales of himself to his own difadvantage. People may be amused and laugh at the time, but they will be remembered, and brought out against him upon some subsequent occasion.”

“ Much may be done if a man puts his whole mind to a particular object. By doing so, Norton has made himself the great lawyer that he is allowed to be."

I mentioned an acquaintance of mine, a sectary, who was a very religious man, who not only attended regularly on publick worship with those of his communion, but made a particular study of the Scriptures, and even wrote a commentary on some parts of them, yet was known to be very licentious in indulging himself with women, maintaining that men are to be saved by faith alone, and that the Christian religion had not prescribed any fixed rule for the intercourse between the fexes. Johnson. “Sir, there is no trusting to that

. crazy piety.”

I observed that it was strange how well Scotchmen were known to one another in their own country, though born in very distant counties; for we do not find that the gentlemen of neighbouring counties in England are VOL. II.

G

mutually