Life of Johnson Volume III Part 2

Sir Joshua mentioned Mr. c.u.mberland's _Odes_,[134] which were just published. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, they would have been thought as good as Odes commonly are, if c.u.mberland had not put his name to them; but a name immediately draws censure, unless it be a name that bears down everything before it. Nay, c.u.mberland has made his _Odes_ subsidiary to the fame of another man.[135] They might have run well enough by themselves; but he has not only loaded them with a name, but has made them carry double.'

We talked of the Reviews, and Dr. Johnson spoke of them as he did at Thrale's.[136] Sir Joshua said, what I have often thought, that he wondered to find so much good writing employed in them, when the authours were to remain unknown, and so could not have the motive of fame. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, those who write in them, write well, in order to be paid well.'

Soon after this day, he went to Bath with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. I had never seen that beautiful city, and wished to take the opportunity of visiting it, while Johnson was there. Having written to him, I received the following answer.

'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'Why do you talk of neglect? When did I neglect you? If you will come to Bath, we shall all be glad to see you. Come, therefore, as soon as you can.

'But I have a little business for you at London. Bid Francis look in the paper-drawer of the chest of drawers in my bed-chamber, for two cases; one for the Attorney-General,[137] and one for the Solicitor-General.[138]

They lie, I think, at the top of my papers; otherwise they are somewhere else, and will give me more trouble.

'Please to write to me immediately, if they can be found. Make my compliments to all our friends round the world, and to Mrs. Williams at home.

'I am, Sir, your, &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Search for the papers as soon as you can, that, if it is necessary, I may write to you again before you come down.'

On the 26th of April, I went to Bath;[139] and on my arrival at the Pelican inn, found lying for me an obliging invitation from Mr. and Mrs.

Thrale, by whom I was agreeably entertained almost constantly during my stay. They were gone to the rooms;[140] but there was a kind note from Dr.

Johnson, that he should sit at home all the evening. I went to him directly, and before Mr. and Mrs. Thrale returned, we had by ourselves some hours of tea-drinking and talk.

I shall group together such of his sayings as I preserved during the few days that I was at Bath.

Of a person[141] who differed from him in politicks, he said, 'In private life he is a very honest gentleman; but I will not allow him to be so in publick life. People _may_ be honest, though they are doing wrong: that is, between their Maker and them. But _we_, who are suffering by their pernicious conduct, are to destroy them. We are sure that ---- acts from interest. We know what his genuine principles were. They who allow their pa.s.sions to confound the distinctions between right and wrong, are criminal. They may be convinced; but they have not come honestly by their conviction.'[142]

It having been mentioned, I know not with what truth, that a certain female political writer,[143] whose doctrines he disliked, had of late become very fond of dress, sat hours together at her toilet, and even put on rouge:--JOHNSON. 'She is better employed at her toilet, than using her pen. It is better she should be reddening her own cheeks, than blackening other people's characters.'

He told us that 'Addison wrote Budgell's papers in the _Spectator_, at least mended them so much, that he made them almost his own; and that Draper, Tonson's partner, a.s.sured Mrs. Johnson, that the much admired Epilogue to _The Distressed Mother_, which came out in Budgell's name, was in reality written by Addison.'[144]

'The mode of government by one may be ill adapted to a small society, but is best for a great nation. The characteristick of our own government at present is imbecility.[145] The magistrate dare not call the guards for fear of being hanged. The guards will not come, for fear of being given up to the blind rage of popular juries.'[146]

Of the father of one of our friends, he observed, 'He never clarified his notions, by filtrating them through other minds. He had a ca.n.a.l upon his estate, where at one place the bank was too low.--I dug the ca.n.a.l deeper,' said he.[147]

He told me that 'so long ago as 1748[148] he had read "_The Grave_, a Poem[149]," but did not like it much.' I differed from him; for though it is not equal throughout, and is seldom elegantly correct, it abounds in solemn thought, and poetical imagery beyond the common reach. The world has differed from him; for the poem has pa.s.sed through many editions, and is still much read by people of a serious cast of mind.

A literary lady of large fortune[150] was mentioned, as one who did good to many, but by no means 'by stealth,' and instead of 'blus.h.i.+ng to find it fame,[151] acted evidently from vanity. JOHNSON. 'I have seen no beings who do as much good from benevolence, as she does, from whatever motive.

If there are such under the earth, or in the clouds, I wish they would come up, or come down. What Soame Jenyns says upon this subject is not to be minded; he is a wit. No, Sir; to act from pure benevolence is not possible for finite beings. Human benevolence is mingled with vanity, interest, or some other motive.'[152]

He would not allow me to praise a lady then at Bath; observing 'She does not gain upon me, Sir; I think her empty-headed.' He was, indeed, a stern critick upon characters and manners. Even Mrs. Thrale did not escape his friendly animadversion at times. When he and I were one day endeavouring to ascertain, article by article, how one of our friends[153]

could possibly spend as much money in his family as he told us he did, she interrupted us by a lively extravagant sally, on the expence of clothing his children, describing it in a very ludicrous and fanciful manner. Johnson looked a little angry, and said, 'Nay, Madam, when you are declaiming, declaim; and when you are calculating, calculate.' At another time, when she said, perhaps affectedly, 'I don't like to fly.'

JOHNSON. 'With _your_ wings, Madam, you _must_ fly: but have a care, there are _clippers_ abroad.' How very well was this said, and how fully has experience proved the truth of it! But have they not _clipped_ rather _rudely_, and gone a great deal _closer_ than was necessary?[154]

A gentleman[155] expressed a wish to go and live three years at Otaheite, or New-Zealand, in order to obtain a full acquaintance with people, so totally different from all that we have ever known, and be satisfied what pure nature can do for man. JOHNSON. 'What could you learn, Sir?

What can savages tell, but what they themselves have seen? Of the past, or the invisible, they can tell nothing. The inhabitants of Otaheite and New-Zealand are not in a state of pure nature; for it is plain they broke off from some other people. Had they grown out of the ground, you might have judged of a state of pure nature. Fanciful people may talk of a mythology being amongst them; but it must be invention. They have once had religion, which has been gradually debased. And what account of their religion can you suppose to be learnt from savages? Only consider, Sir, our own state: our religion is in a book; we have an order of men whose duty it is to teach it; we have one day in the week set apart for it, and this is in general pretty well observed: yet ask the first ten gross men you meet, and hear what they can tell of their religion.'

On Monday, April 29, he and I made an excursion to Bristol, where I was entertained with seeing him enquire upon the spot, into the authenticity of 'Rowley's Poetry,'[156] as I had seen him enquire upon the spot into the authenticity of 'Ossian's Poetry.'[157] George Catcot, the pewterer, who was as zealous for Rowley, as Dr. Hugh Blair[158] was for Ossian, (I trust my Reverend friend will excuse the comparison,) attended us at our inn, and with a triumphant air of lively simplicity called out, 'I'll make Dr. Johnson a convert.' Dr. Johnson, at his desire, read aloud some of Chatterton's fabricated verses, while Catcot stood at the back of his chair, moving himself like a pendulum, and beating time with his feet, and now and then looking into Dr. Johnson's face, wondering that he was not yet convinced. We called on Mr. Barret, the surgeon, and saw some of the _originals_ as they were called, which were executed very artificially;[159] but from a careful inspection of them, and a consideration of the circ.u.mstances with which they were attended, we were quite satisfied of the imposture, which, indeed, has been clearly demonstrated from internal evidence, by several able criticks.'[160]

Honest Catcot seemed to pay no attention whatever to any objections, but insisted, as an end of all controversy, that we should go with him to the tower of the church of St. Mary, Redcliff, and _view with our own eyes_ the ancient chest in which the ma.n.u.scripts were found. To this, Dr. Johnson good-naturedly agreed; and though troubled with a shortness of breathing, laboured up a long flight of steps, till we came to the place where the wonderous chest stood. '_There_, (said Catcot, with a bouncing confident credulity,) _there_ is the very chest itself.'[161]

'After this _ocular demonstration_, there was no more to be said. He brought to my recollection a Scotch Highlander, a man of learning too, and who had seen the world, attesting, and at the same time giving his reasons for the authenticity of Fingal:--'I have heard all that poem when I was young.'--'Have you, Sir? Pray what have you heard?'--'I have heard Ossian, Oscar, and _every one of them_.'

Johnson said of Chatterton, 'This is the most extraordinary young man that has encountered my knowledge. It is wonderful how the whelp has written such things.'[162]

We were by no means pleased with our inn at Bristol. 'Let us see now, (said I,) how we should describe it.' Johnson was ready with his raillery. 'Describe it, Sir?--Why, it was so bad that Boswell wished to be in Scotland!'

After Dr. Johnson's return to London,[163] I was several times with him at his house, where I occasionally slept, in the room that had been a.s.signed to me.[164] I dined with him at Dr. Taylor's, at General Oglethorpe's, and at General Paoli's. To avoid a tedious minuteness, I shall group together what I have preserved of his conversation during this period also, without specifying each scene where it pa.s.sed, except one, which will be found so remarkable as certainly to deserve a very particular relation. Where the place or the persons do not contribute to the zest of the conversation, it is unnecessary to enc.u.mber my page with mentioning them. To know of what vintage our wine is, enables us to judge of its value, and to drink it with more relish: but to have the produce of each vine of one vineyard, in the same year, kept separate, would serve no purpose. To know that our wine, (to use an advertising phrase,) is 'of the stock of an Amba.s.sadour lately deceased,' heightens its flavour: but it signifies nothing to know the bin where each bottle was once deposited.

'Garrick (he observed,) does not play the part of Archer in _The Beaux Stratagem_ well. The gentleman should break out through the footman, which is not the case as he does it.'[165]

'Where there is no education, as in savage countries, men will have the upper hand of women. Bodily strength, no doubt, contributes to this; but it would be so, exclusive of that; for it is mind that always governs.

When it comes to dry understanding, man has the better.'

'The little volumes ent.i.tled _Respublicae_,[166] which are very well done, were a bookseller's work.'

'There is much talk of the misery which we cause to the brute creation; but they are recompensed by existence[167]. If they were not useful to man, and therefore protected by him, they would not be nearly so numerous.' This argument is to be found in the able and benignant Hutchinson's _Moral Philosophy_. But the question is, whether the animals who endure such sufferings of various kinds, for the service and entertainment of man, would accept of existence upon the terms on which they have it. Madame Sevigne[168], who, though she had many enjoyments, felt with delicate sensibility the prevalence of misery, complains of the task of existence having been imposed upon her without her consent[169].

'That man is never happy for the present is so true, that all his relief from unhappiness is only forgetting himself for a little while. Life is a progress from want to want, not from enjoyment to enjoyment.'[170]

'Though many men are nominally entrusted with the administration of hospitals and other publick inst.i.tutions, almost all the good is done by one man, by whom the rest are driven on; owing to confidence in him, and indolence in them.'[171]

'Lord Chesterfield's _Letters to his Son_, I think, might be made a very pretty book. Take out the immorality, and it should be put into the hands of every young gentleman. An elegant manner and easiness of behaviour are acquired gradually and imperceptibly. No man can say "I'll be genteel." There are ten genteel women for one genteel man, because they are more restrained. A man without some degree of restraint is insufferable; but we are all less restrained than women. Were a woman sitting in company to put out her legs before her as most men do, we should be tempted to kick them in.'

No man was a more attentive and nice observer of behaviour in those in whose company he happened to be, than Johnson; or, however strange it may seem to many, had a higher estimation of its refinements[172]. Lord Eliot informs me, that one day when Johnson and he were at dinner at a gentleman's house in London, upon Lord Chesterfield's Letters being mentioned, Johnson surprized the company by this sentence: 'Every man of any education would rather be called a rascal, than accused of deficiency in _the graces_.' Mr. Gibbon, who was present, turned to a lady who knew Johnson well, and lived much with him, and in his quaint manner, tapping his box, addressed her thus: 'Don't you think, Madam, (looking towards Johnson,) that among _all_ your acquaintance, you could find _one_ exception?' The lady smiled, and seemed to acquiesce.[173]

'I read (said he,) Sharpe's letters on Italy over again, when I was at Bath. There is a great deal of matter in them.'[174]

'Mrs. Williams was angry that Thrale's family did not send regularly to her every time they heard from me while I was in the Hebrides. Little people are apt to be jealous: but they should not be jealous; for they ought to consider, that superiour attention will necessarily be paid to superiour fortune or rank. Two persons may have equal merit, and on that account may have an equal claim to attention; but one of them may have also fortune and rank, and so may have a double claim.'

Talking of his notes on Shakspeare, he said, 'I despise those who do not see that I am right in the pa.s.sage where _as_ is repeated, and "a.s.ses of great charge" introduced. That on "To be, or not to be," is disputable.'[175]

A gentleman, whom I found sitting with him one morning, said, that in his opinion the character of an infidel was more detestable than that of a man notoriously guilty of an atrocious crime. I differed from him, because we are surer of the odiousness of the one, than of the errour of the other. JOHNSON. 'Sir, I agree with him; for the infidel would be guilty of any crime if he were inclined to it.'

'Many things which are false are transmitted from book to book, and gain credit in the world. One of these is the cry against the evil of luxury.

Now the truth is, that luxury produces much good[176]. Take the luxury of buildings in London. Does it not produce real advantage in the conveniency and elegance of accommodation, and this all from the exertion of industry? People will tell you, with a melancholy face, how many builders are in gaol. It is plain they are in gaol, not for building; for rents are not fallen.--A man gives half a guinea for a dish of green peas. How much gardening does this occasion? how many labourers must the compet.i.tion to have such things early in the market, keep in employment? You will hear it said, very gravely, Why was not the half-guinea, thus spent in luxury, given to the poor? To how many might it have afforded a good meal. Alas! has it not gone to the _industrious_ poor, whom it is better to support than the _idle_ poor? You are much surer that you are doing good when you _pay_ money to those who work, as the recompence of their labour, than when you _give_ money merely in charity. Suppose the ancient luxury of a dish of peac.o.c.k's brains were to be revived, how many carcases would be left to the poor at a cheap rate: and as to the rout that is made about people who are ruined by extravagance, it is no matter to the nation that some individuals suffer. When so much general productive exertion is the consequence of luxury, the nation does not care though there are debtors in gaol; nay, they would not care though their creditors were there too.'[177]

The uncommon vivacity of General Oglethorpe's mind, and variety of knowledge, having sometimes made his conversation seem too desultory, Johnson observed, 'Oglethorpe, Sir, never _completes_ what he has to say.'

He on the same account made a similar remark on Patrick Lord Elibank: 'Sir, there is nothing _conclusive_ in his talk.'[178]

When I complained of having dined at a splendid table without hearing one sentence of conversation worthy of being remembered, he said, 'Sir, there seldom is any such conversation.' BOSWELL. 'Why then meet at table?' JOHNSON. 'Why to eat and drink together, and to promote kindness; and, Sir, this is better done when there is no solid conversation; for when there is, people differ in opinion, and get into bad humour, or some of the company who are not capable of such conversation, are left out, and feel themselves uneasy. It was for this reason, Sir Robert Walpole said, he always talked bawdy at his table, because in that all could join.'[179]

Being irritated by hearing a gentleman[180] ask Mr. Levett a variety of questions concerning him, when he was sitting by, he broke out, 'Sir, you have but two topicks, yourself and me. I am sick of both.' 'A man, (said he,) should not talk of himself, nor much of any particular person. He should take care not to be made a proverb; and, therefore, should avoid having any one topick of which people can say, "We shall hear him upon it."' There was a Dr. Oldfield, who was always talking of the Duke of Marlborough. He came into a coffee-house one day, and told that his Grace had spoken in the House of Lords for half an hour. 'Did he indeed speak for half an hour?' (said Belchier, the surgeon,)-- 'Yes.'--'And what did he say of Dr. Oldfield?'--'Nothing.'--'Why then, Sir, he was very ungrateful; for Dr. Oldfield could not have spoken for a quarter of an hour, without saying something of him.'

'Every man is to take existence on the terms on which it is given to him[181]. To some men it is given on condition of not taking liberties, which other men may take without much harm. One may drink wine, and be nothing the worse for it; on another, wine may have effects so inflammatory as to injure him both in body and mind, and perhaps, make him commit something for which he may deserve to be hanged.'

'Lord Hailes's _Annals of Scotland_[182] have not that painted form which is the taste of this age; but it is a book which will always sell, it has such a stability of dates, such a certainty of facts, and such a punctuality of citation. I never before read Scotch history with certainty.'