The Life of Samuel Johnson

‘To THE REVEREND MR. BAGSHAW, at Bromley^a

‘SIR, – I return you my sincere thanks for your additions to my Dictionary; but the new edition has been published some time, and therefore I cannot now make use of them. Whether I shall ever revise it more, I know not. If many readers had been as judicious, as diligent, and as communicative as yourself, my work had been better. The world must at present take it as it is. I am, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,

‘May8,1773.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

On Sunday, May 8,³⁹⁶ I dined with Johnson at Mr. Langton’s with Dr. Beattie and some other company. He descanted on the subject of Literary Property. ‘There seems (said he,) to be in authors a stronger right of property than that by occupancy; a metaphysical right, a right, as it were, of creation, which should from its nature be perpetual; but the consent of nations is against it, and indeed reason and the interests of learning are against it; for were it to be perpetual, no book, however useful, could be universally diffused amongst mankind, should the proprietor take it into his head to restrain its circulation. No book could have the advantage of being edited with notes, however necessary to its elucidation, should the proprietor perversely oppose it. For the general good of the world, therefore, whatever valuable work has once been created by an author, and issued out by him, should be understood as no longer in his power, but as belonging to the publick; at the same time the author is entitled to an adequate reward. This he should have by an exclusive right to his work for a considerable number of years.’

He attacked Lord Monboddo’s strange speculation on the primitive state of human nature; observing, ‘Sir, it is all conjecture about a thing useless, even were it known to be true. Knowledge of all kinds is good. Conjecture, as to things useful, is good; but conjecture as to what it would be useless to know, such as whether men went upon all four, is very idle.’

On Monday, May 9,³⁹⁷ as I was to set out on my return to Scotland next morning, I was desirous to see as much of Dr. Johnson as I could. But I first called on Goldsmith to take leave of him. The jealousy and envy which, though possessed of many most amiable qualities, he frankly avowed, broke out violently at this interview. Upon another occasion, when Goldsmith confessed himself to be of an envious disposition, I contended with Johnson that we ought not to be angry with him, he was so candid in owning it. ‘Nay, Sir, (said Johnson,) we must be angry that a man has such a superabundance of an odious quality, that he cannot keep it within his own breast, but it boils over.’ In my opinion, however, Goldsmith had not more of it than other people have, but only talked of it freely.

He now seemed very angry that Johnson was going to be a traveller; said, ‘he would be a dead weight for me to carry, and that I should never be able to lug him along through the Highlands and Hebrides.’ Nor would he patiently allow me to enlarge upon Johnson’s wonderful abilities; but exclaimed, ‘Is he like Burke, who winds into a subject like a serpent?’ ‘But, (said I,) Johnson is the Hercules who strangled serpents in his cradle.’

I dined with Dr. Johnson at General Paoli’s. He was obliged, by indisposition, to leave the company early; he appointed me, however, to meet him in the evening at Mr. (now Sir Robert) Chambers’s in the Temple, where he accordingly came, though he continued to be very ill. Chambers, as is common on such occasions, prescribed various remedies to him. JOHNSON. (fretted by pain,) ‘Pr’ythee don’t tease me. Stay till I am well, and then you shall tell me how to cure myself.’ He grew better, and talked with a noble enthusiasm of keeping up the representation of respectable families. His zeal on this subject was a circumstance in his character exceedingly remarkable, when it is considered that he himself had no pretensions to blood. I heard him once say, ‘I have great merit in being zealous for subordination and the honours of birth; for I can hardly tell who was my grandfather.’ He maintained the dignity and propriety of male succession, in opposition to the opinion of one of our friends,³⁹⁸ who had that day employed Mr. Chambers to draw his will, devising his estate to his three sisters, in preference to a remote heir male. Johnson called them ‘three dowdies,’ and said, with as high a spirit as the boldest Baron in the most perfect days of the feudal system, ‘An ancient estate should always go to males. It is mighty foolish to let a stranger have it because he marries your daughter, and takes your name. As for an estate newly acquired by trade, you may give it, if you will, to the dog Towser, and let him keep his own name.’

I have known him at times exceedingly diverted at what seemed to others a very small sport. He now laughed immoderately, without any reason that we could perceive, at our friend’s making his will; called him the testator, and added, ‘I dare say, he thinks he has done a mighty thing. He won’t stay till he gets home to his seat in the country, to produce this wonderful deed: he’ll call up the landlord of the first inn on the road; and, after a suitable preface upon mortality and the uncertainty of life, will tell him that he should not delay making his will; and here, Sir, will he say, is my will, which I have just made, with the assistance of one of the ablest lawyers in the kingdom; and he will read it to him (laughing all the time). He believes he has made this will; but he did not make it: you, Chambers, made it for him. I trust you have had more conscience than to make him say, “being of sound understanding;” ha, ha, ha! I hope he has left me a legacy. I’d have his will turned into verse, like a ballad.’

In this playful manner did he run on, exulting in his own pleasantry, which certainly was not such as might be expected from the authour of The Rambler, but which is here preserved, that my readers may be acquainted even with the slightest occasional characteristicks of so eminent a man.

Mr. Chambers did not by any means relish this jocularity upon a matter of which pars magna fuit,³⁹⁹ and seemed impatient till he got rid of us. Johnson could not stop his merriment, but continued it all the way till we got without the Temple-gate. He then burst into such a fit of laughter, that he appeared to be almost in a convulsion; and, in order to support himself, laid hold of one of the posts at the side of the foot pavement, and sent forth peals so loud, that in the silence of the night his voice seemed to resound from Temple-bar to Fleet-ditch.

This most ludicrous exhibition of the awful, melancholy, and venerable Johnson, happened well to counteract the feelings of sadness which I used to experience when parting with him for a considerable time. I accompanied him to his door, where he gave me his blessing.

He records of himself this year, ‘Between Easter and Whitsuntide, having always considered that time as propitious to study, I attempted to learn the Low Dutch language.’^a It is to be observed, that he here admits an opinion of the human mind being influenced by seasons, which he ridicules in his writings. His progress, he says, was interrupted by a fever, ‘which, by the imprudent use of a small print, left an inflammation in his useful eye.’ We cannot but admire his spirit when we know, that amidst a complication of bodily and mental distress, he was still animated with the desire of intellectual improvement. Various notes of his studies appear on different days, in his manuscript diary of this year, such as,

‘Inchoavi lectionem Pentateuchi – Finivi lectionem Conf. Fab. Burdonum. – Legi primum actum Troadum. – Legi Dissertationem Clerici postremam de Pent. – 2 of Clark’s Sermons. – L. Appolonii pugnam Betriciam. – L. centum versus Homeri.’⁴⁰⁰

Let this serve as a specimen of what accessions of literature he was perpetually infusing into his mind, while he charged himself with idleness.

This year died Mrs. Salusbury, (mother of Mrs. Thrale,) a lady whom he appears to have esteemed much, and whose memory he honoured with an Epitaph.^b

In a letter from Edinburgh, dated the 29th of May, I pressed him to persevere in his resolution to make this year the projected visit to the Hebrides, of which he and I had talked for many years, and which I was confident would afford us much entertainment.

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – When your letter came to me, I was so darkened by an inflammation in my eye, that I could not for some time read it. I can now write without trouble, and can read large prints. My eye is gradually growing stronger; and I hope will be able to take some delight in the survey of a Caledonian loch.

‘Chambers is going a Judge, with six thousand a year, to Bengal. He and I shall come down together as far as Newcastle, and thence I shall easily get to Edinburgh. Let me know the exact time when your Courts intermit. I must conform a little to Chambers’s occasions, and he must conform a little to mine. The time which you shall fix, must be the common point to which we will come as near as we can. Except this eye, I am very well.

‘Beattie is so caressed, and invited, and treated, and liked, and flattered, by the great, that I can see nothing of him. I am in great hope that he will be well provided for, and then we will live upon him at the Marischal College, without pity or modesty.

‘— ⁴⁰¹ left the town without taking leave of me, and is gone in deep dudgeon to —.⁴⁰² Is not this very childish? Where is now my legacy?

‘I hope your dear lady and her dear baby are both well. I shall see them too when I come; and I have that opinion of your choice, as to suspect that when I have seen Mrs. Boswell, I shall be less willing to go away. I am, dear Sir, your affectionate humble servant,

‘Johnson’s-court, Fleet-street, ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

July 5, 1773.’

‘Write to me as soon as you can. Chambers is now at Oxford.’

I again wrote to him, informing him that the Court of Session rose on the twelfth of August, hoping to see him before that time, and expressing perhaps in too extravagant terms, my admiration of him, and my expectation of pleasure from our intended tour.

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I shall set out from London on Friday the sixth of this month, and purpose not to loiter much by the way. Which day I shall be at Edinburgh, I cannot exactly tell. I suppose I must drive to an inn, and send a porter to find you.

‘I am afraid Beattie will not be at his College soon enough for us, and I shall be sorry to miss him; but there is no staying for the concurrence of all conveniences. We will do as well as we can. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

‘August 3, 1773.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘DEAR SIR, – Not being at Mr. Thrale’s when your letter came, I had written the enclosed paper and sealed it; bringing it hither for a frank, I found yours. If any thing could repress my ardour, it would be such a letter as yours. To disappoint a friend is unpleasing; and he that forms expectations like yours, must be disappointed. Think only when you see me, that you see a man who loves you, and is proud and glad that you love him. I am, Sir, your most affectionate,

‘August 3, 1773.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘DEAR SIR, ‘Newcastle, Aug. 11, 1773.

‘I came hither last night, and hope, but do not absolutely promise, to be in Edinburgh on Saturday. Beattie will not come so soon. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

‘My compliments to your lady.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘Mr. Johnson sends his compliments to Mr. Boswell, being just arrived at Boyd’s. – Saturday night.’

His stay in Scotland was from the 18th of August, on which day he arrived, till the 22nd of November, when he set out on his return to London; and I believe ninety-four days were never passed by any man in a more vigorous exertion.

He came by the way of Berwick upon Tweed to Edinburgh, where he remained a few days, and then went by St. Andrew’s, Aberdeen, Inverness, and Fort Augustus, to the Hebrides, to visit which was the principal object he had in view. He visited the isles of Sky, Rasay, Col, Mull, Inchkenneth, and Icolmkill. He travelled through Argyleshire by Inverary, and from thence by Lochlomond and Dunbarton to Glasgow, then by Loudon to Auchinleck in Ayrshire, the seat of my family, and then by Hamilton, back to Edinburgh, where he again spent some time. He thus saw the four Universities of Scotland, its three principal cities, and as much of the Highland and insular life as was sufficient for his philosophical contemplation. I had the pleasure of accompanying him during the whole of this journey. He was respectfully entertained by the great, the learned, and the elegant, wherever he went; nor was he less delighted with the hospitality which he experienced in humbler life.

His various adventures, and the force and vivacity of his mind, as exercised during this peregrination, upon innumerable topicks, have been faithfully, and to the best of my abilities, displayed in my Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, to which, as the publick has been pleased to honour it by a very extensive circulation, I beg leave to refer, as to a separate and remarkable portion of his life,^a which may be there seen in detail, and which exhibits as striking a view of his powers in conversation, as his works do of his excellence in writing. Nor can I deny to myself the very flattering gratification of inserting here the character which my friend Mr. Courtenay has been pleased to give of that work:

‘With Reynolds’ pencil, vivid, bold, and true,

So fervent Boswell gives him to our view:

In every trait we see his mind expand;

The master rises by the pupil’s hand;

We love the writer, praise his happy vein,

Grac’d with the naivete of the sage Montaigne.

Hence not alone are brighter parts display’d,

But e’en the specks of character pourtray’d:

We see the Rambler with fastidious smile

Mark the lone tree, and note the heath-clad isle;

But when th’ heroick tale of Flora⁴⁰³ charms,

Deck’d in a kilt, he wields a chieftain’s arms:

The tuneful piper sounds a martial strain,

And Samuel sings, “The King shall have his ain.”’

During his stay at Edinburgh, after his return from the Hebrides, he was at great pains to obtain information concerning Scotland; and it will appear from his subsequent letters, that he was not less solicitous for intelligence on this subject after his return to London.

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I came home last night, without any incommodity, danger, or weariness, and am ready to begin a new journey. I shall go to Oxford on Monday. I know Mrs. Boswell wished me well to go;^a her wishes have not been disappointed. Mrs. Williams has received Sir A’s^b letter.

‘Make my compliments to all those to whom my compliments may be welcome.

Let the box^c be sent as soon as it can, and let me know when to expect it. ‘Enquire, if you can, the order of the Clans: Macdonald is first, Maclean second; further I cannot go. Quicken Dr. Webster.^a I am, Sir, yours affectionately,

‘Nov. 27, 1773.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Dec. 2, 1773.

‘… You shall have what information I can procure as to the order of the Clans. A gentleman of the name of Grant tells me, that there is no settled order among them; and he says, that the Macdonalds were not placed upon the right of the army at Culloden; the Stuarts were. I shall, however, examine witnesses of every name that I can find here. Dr. Webster shall be quickened too. I like your little memorandums; they are symptoms of your being in earnest with your book of northern travels.

‘Your box shall be sent next week by sea. You will find in it some pieces of the broom bush, which you saw growing on the old castle of Auchinleck. The wood has a curious appearance when sawn across. You may either have a little writing-standish made of it, or get it formed into boards for a treatise on witchcraft, by way of a suitable binding.’…

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Dec. 18, 1773.

‘… You promised me an inscription for a print to be taken from an historical picture of Mary Queen of Scots being forced to resign her crown, which Mr. Hamilton at Rome has painted for me. The two following have been sent to me:

“Maria Scotorum Regina meliori seculo digna, jus regium civibus seditiosis invita resignat.”

“Gives seditiosi Mariam Scotorum Reginam sese muneri abdicare invitam cogunt.”⁴⁰⁴

‘Be so good as to read the passage in Robertson, and see if you cannot give me a better inscription. I must have it both in Latin and English; so if you should not give me another Latin one, you will at least choose the best of these two, and send a translation of it.’…

His humane forgiving disposition was put to a pretty strong test on his return to London, by a liberty which Mr. Thomas Davies had taken with him in his absence, which was, to publish two volumes, entitled, Miscellaneous and fugitive Pieces, which he advertised in the news-papers, ‘By the Authour of the Rambler.’ In this collection, several of Dr. Johnson’s acknowledged writings, several of his anonymous performances, and some which he had written for others, were inserted; but there were also some in which he had no concern whatever. He was at first very angry, as he had good reason to be. But, upon consideration of his poor friend’s narrow circumstances, and that he had only a little profit in view, and meant no harm, he soon relented, and continued his kindness to him as formerly.

In the course of his self-examination with retrospect to this year, he seems to have been much dejected; for he says, January 1, 1774, ‘This year has passed with so little improvement, that I doubt whether I have not rather impaired than increased my learning’;^a and yet we have seen how he read, and we know how he talked during that period.

He was now seriously engaged in writing an account of our travels in the Hebrides, in consequence of which I had the pleasure of a more frequent correspondence with him.

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – My operations have been hindered by a cough; at least I flatter myself, that if my cough had not come, I should have been further advanced. But I have had no intelligence from Dr. W—, [Webster,] nor from the Excise-office, nor from you. No account of the little borough.^b Nothing of the Erse language. I have yet heard nothing of my box.

‘You must make haste and gather me all you can, and do it quickly, or I will and shall do without it.

‘Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, and tell her that I do not love her the less for wishing me away. I gave her trouble enough, and shall be glad, in recompense, to give her any pleasure.

‘I would send some porter into the Hebrides, if I knew which way it could be got to my kind friends there. Enquire, and let me know.

‘Make my compliments to all the Doctors of Edinburgh, and to all my friends, from one end of Scotland to the other.

‘Write to me, and send me what intelligence you can: and if any thing is too bulky for the post, let me have it by the carrier. I do not like trusting winds and waves. I am, dear Sir, your most, &c.

‘Jan. 29, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘DEAR SIR, – In a day or two after I had written the last discontented letter, I received my box, which was very welcome. But still I must entreat you to hasten Dr. Webster, and continue to pick up what you can that may be useful.

‘Mr. Oglethorpe was with me this morning. You know his errand. He was not unwelcome.

‘Tell Mrs. Boswell that my good intentions towards her still continue. I should be glad to do any thing that would either benefit or please her.

‘Chambers is not yet gone, but so hurried, or so negligent, or so proud, that I rarely see him. I have, indeed, for some weeks past, been very ill of a cold and cough, and have been at Mrs. Thrale’s, that I might be taken care of. I am much better: novx redeunt in prcelia vires;⁴⁰⁵ but I am yet tender, and easily disordered. How happy it was that neither of us were ill in the Hebrides.

‘The question of Literary Property is this day before the Lords. Murphy drew up the Appellants’ case, that is, the plea against the perpetual right. I have not seen it, nor heard the decision. I would not have the right perpetual.

‘I will write to you as any thing occurs, and do you send me something about my Scottish friends. I have very great kindness for them. Let me know likewise how fees come in, and when we are to see you. I am, Sir, yours affectionately,

‘London, Feb. 7, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

He at this time wrote the following letters to Mr. Steevens, his able associate in editing Shakspeare: –

‘To GEORGE STEEVENS, ESQ., in Hampstead

‘SIR, – If I am asked when I have seen Mr. Steevens, you know what answer I must give; if I am asked when I shall see him, I wish you would tell me what to say.

‘If you have Lesley’s History of Scotland, or any other book about Scotland, except Boetius and Buchanan, it will be a kindness if you send them to, Sir, your humble servant,

‘Feb. 7, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘SIR,– We are thinking to augment our club and I am desirous of nominating you, if you care to stand the ballot, and can attend on Friday nights at least twice in five weeks: less than that is too little, and rather more will be expected. Be pleased to let me know before Friday. I am, Sir, your most, &c,

‘Feb. 21, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘SIR, – Last night you became a member of the club; if you call on me on Friday, I will introduce you. A gentleman,⁴⁰⁶ proposed after you, was rejected.

‘I thank you for Neander, but wish he were not so fine. I will take care of him. I am, Sir, your humble servant,

‘March 5, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – Dr. Webster’s informations were much less exact and much less determinate than I expected: they are, indeed, much less positive than, if he can trust his own book^a which he laid before me, he is able to give. But I believe it will always be found, that he who calls much for information will advance his work but slowly.

‘I am, however, obliged to you, dear Sir, for your endeavours to help me, and hope, that between us something will some time be done, if not on this, on some occasion.

‘Chambers is either married, or almost married, to Miss Wilton, a girl of sixteen, exquisitely beautiful, whom he has, with his lawyer’s tongue, persuaded to take her chance with him in the East.

‘We have added to the club, Charles Fox, Sir Charles Bunbury, Dr. Fordyce, and Mr. Steevens.

‘Return my thanks to Dr. Webster. Tell Dr. Robertson I have not much to reply to his censure of my negligence; and tell Dr. Blair, that since he has written hither what I said to him, we must now consider ourselves as even, forgive one another, and begin again.⁴⁰⁷ I care not how soon, for he is a very pleasing man. Pay my compliments to all my friends, and remind Lord Elibank of his promise to give me all his works.

‘I hope Mrs. Boswell and little Miss are well. – When shall I see them again? She is a sweet lady, only she was so glad to see me go, that I have almost a mind to come again, that she may again have the same pleasure.

‘Enquire if it be practicable to send a small present of a cask of porter to Dunvegan, Rasay, and Col. I would not wish to be thought forgetful of civilities. I am, Sir, your humble servant,

‘March5,1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

On the 5th of March I wrote to him, requesting his counsel whether I should this spring come to London. I stated to him on the one hand some pecuniary embarrassments, which, together with my wife’s situation at that time, made me hesitate; and, on the other, the pleasure and improvement which my annual visit to the metropolis always afforded me; and particularly mentioned a peculiar satisfaction which I experienced in celebrating the festival of Easter in St. Paul’s cathedral; that to my fancy it appeared like going up to Jerusalem at the feast of the Passover; and that the strong devotion which I felt on that occasion diffused its influence on my mind through the rest of the year.

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

[Not dated, but written about the 15th of March.]

‘DEAR SIR,

‘I am ashamed to think that since I received your letter I have passed so many days without answering it.

‘I think there is no great difficulty in resolving your doubts. The reasons for which you are inclined to visit London, are, I think, not of sufficient strength to answer the objections. That you should delight to come once a year to the fountain of intelligence and pleasure, is very natural; but both information and pleasure must be regulated by propriety. Pleasure, which cannot be obtained but by unseasonable or unsuitable expence, must always end in pain; and pleasure, which must be enjoyed at the expence of another’s pain, can never be such as a worthy mind can fully delight in.

‘What improvement you might gain by coming to London, you may easily supply, or easily compensate, by enjoining yourself some particular study at home, or opening some new avenue to information. Edinburgh is not yet exhausted; and I am sure you will find no pleasure here which can deserve either that you should anticipate any part of your future fortune, or that you should condemn yourself and your lady to penurious frugality for the rest of the year.

‘I need not tell you what regard you owe to Mrs. Boswell’s entreaties; or how much you ought to study the happiness of her who studies yours with so much diligence, and of whose kindness you enjoy such good effects. Life cannot subsist in society but by reciprocal concessions. She permitted you to ramble last year, you must permit her now to keep you at home.

‘Your last reason is so serious, that I am unwilling to oppose it. Yet you must remember, that your image of worshipping once a year in a certain place, in imitation of the Jews, is but a comparison; and simile non est idem;⁴⁰⁸ if the annual resort to Jerusalem was a duty to the Jews, it was a duty because it was commanded; and you have no such command, therefore no such duty. It may be dangerous to receive too readily, and indulge too fondly, opinions, from which, perhaps, no pious mind is wholly disengaged, of local sanctity and local devotion. You know what strange effects they have produced over a great part of the Christian world. I am now writing, and you, when you read this, are reading under the Eye of Omnipresence.

‘To what degree fancy is to be admitted into religious offices, it would require much deliberation to determine. I am far from intending totally to exclude it. Fancy is a faculty bestowed by our Creator, and it is reasonable that all His gifts should be used to His glory, that all our faculties should co-operate in His worship; but they are to co-operate according to the will of Him that gave them, according to the order which His wisdom has established. As ceremonies prudential or convenient are less obligatory than positive ordinances, as bodily worship is only the token to others or ourselves of mental adoration, so Fancy is always to act in subordination to Reason. We may take Fancy for a companion, but must follow Reason as our guide. We may allow Fancy to suggest certain ideas in certain places; but Reason must always be heard, when she tells us, that those ideas and those places have no natural or necessary relation. When we enter a church we habitually recall to mind the duty of adoration, but we must not omit adoration for want of a temple; because we know, and ought to remember, that the Universal Lord is every where present; and that, therefore, to come to Jona,^a or to Jerusalem, though it may be useful, cannot be necessary.

‘Thus I have answered your letter, and have not answered it negligently. I love you too well to be careless when you are serious.

‘I think I shall be very diligent next week about our travels, which I have too long neglected. I am, dear Sir, your most, &c.,

‘Compliments to Madam and Miss.’

‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘DEAR SIR, – The lady who delivers this has a lawsuit, in which she desires to make use of your skill and eloquence, and she seems to think that she shall have something more of both for a recommendation from me; which, though I know how little you want any external incitement to your duty, I could not refuse her, because I know that at least it will not hurt her, to tell you that I wish her well. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

‘May 10, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, May 12, 1774.

‘Lord Hailes has begged of me to offer you his best respects, and to transmit to you specimens of Annals of Scotland, from the Accession of Malcolm Kenmore to the Death of James V, in drawing up which, his Lordship has been engaged for some time. His Lordship writes to me thus: “If I could procure Dr. Johnson’s criticisms, they would be of great use to me in the prosecution of my work, as they would be judicious and true. I have no right to ask that favour of him. If you could, it would highly oblige me.”

‘Dr. Blair requests you may be assured that he did not write to London what you said to him, and that neither by word nor letter has he made the least complaint of you; but, on the contrary, has a high respect for you, and loves you much more since he saw you in Scotland. It would both divert and please you to see his eagerness about this matter.’

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, ‘Streatham, June 21, 1774.

‘Yesterday I put the first sheets of the Journey to the Hebrides to the press. I have endeavoured to do you some justice in the first paragraph. It will be one volume in octavo, not thick.

‘It will be proper to make some presents in Scotland. You shall tell me to whom I shall give; and I have stipulated twenty-five for you to give in your own name. Some will take the present better from me, others better from you. In this, you who are to live in the place ought to direct. Consider it. Whatever you can get for my purpose send me; and make my compliments to your lady and both the young ones. I am, Sir, your, &c, ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, June 24, 1774.

‘You do not acknowledge the receipt of the various packets which I have sent to you. Neither can I prevail with you to answer my letters, though you honour me with returns. You have said nothing to me about poor Goldsmith,^a nothing about Langton.

‘I have received for you, from the Society for propagating Christian Knowledge in Scotland, the following Erse books: –The New Testament; Baxter’s Call; The Confession of Faith of the Assembly of Divines at Westminster; The Mother’s Catechism; A Gaelick and English Vocabulary.^a

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I wish you could have looked over my book before the printer, but it could not easily be. I suspect some mistakes; but as I deal, perhaps, more in notions than in facts, the matter is not great, and the second edition will be mended, if any such there be. The press will go on slowly for a time, because I am going into Wales to-morrow.

‘I should be very sorry if I appeared to treat such a character as that of Lord Hailes otherwise than with high respect. I return the sheets,^b to which I have done what mischief I could; and finding it so little, thought not much of sending them. The narrative is clear, lively, and short.

‘I have done worse to Lord Hailes than by neglecting his sheets: I have run him in debt. Dr. Horne, the President of Magdalen College in Oxford, wrote to me about three months ago, that he purposed to reprint Walton’s Lives, and desired me to contribute to the work: my answer was, that Lord Hailes intended the same publication; and Dr. Horne has resigned it to him. His Lordship must now think seriously about it.

‘Of poor dear Dr. Goldsmith there is little to be told, more than the papers have made publick. He died of a fever, made, I am afraid, more violent by uneasiness of mind. His debts began to be heavy, and all his resources were exhausted. Sir Joshua is of opinion that he owed not less than two thousand pounds. Was ever poet so trusted before?

‘You may, if you please, put the inscription thus: –

“Maria Scotorum Regina nata 15—, a suis in exilium acta 15—, ab hospita neci data 15—.”⁴⁰⁹ You must find the years.

‘Of your second daughter you certainly gave the account yourself, though you have forgotten it. While Mrs. Boswell is well, never doubt of a boy. Mrs. Thrale brought, I think, five girls running, but while I was with you she had a boy.

‘I am obliged to you for all your pamphlets, and of the last I hope to make some use. I made some of the former. I am, dear Sir, your most affectionate servant,

‘July 4, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘My compliments to all the three ladies.’

‘To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., at Langton, near Spilsby, Lincolnshire

‘DEAR SIR,– You have reason to reproach me that I have left your last letter so long unanswered, but I had nothing particular to say. Chambers, you find, is gone far, and poor Goldsmith is gone much further. He died of a fever, exasperated, as I believe, by the fear of distress. He had raised money and squandered it, by every artifice of acquisition, and folly of expence. But let not his frailties be remembered; he was a very great man.

‘I have just begun to print my Journey to the Hebrides, and am leaving the press to take another journey into Wales, whither Mr. Thrale is going, to take possession of, at least, five hundred a year, fallen to his lady. All at Streatham, that are alive, are well.

‘I have never recovered from the last dreadful illness, but flatter myself that I grow gradually better; much, however, yet remains to mend. $$$$.⁴¹⁰

‘If you have the Latin version of Busy, curious, thirsty fly,⁴¹¹ be so kind as to transcribe and send it; but you need not be in haste, for I shall be I know not where, for at least five weeks. I wrote the following tetrastick on poor Goldsmith: –

$$$$.⁴¹²

‘Please to make my most respectful compliments to all the ladies, and remember me to young George and his sisters. I reckon George begins to shew a pair of heels.

‘Do not be sullen now, but let me find a letter when I come back. I am, dear Sir, your affectionate, humble servant,

‘July 5, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘To MR. ROBERT LEVET

‘Llewenny, in Denbighshire, Aug. 16, 1774.

‘DEAR SIR, – Mr. Thrale’s affairs have kept him here a great while, nor do I know exactly when we shall come hence. I have sent you a bill upon Mr. Strahan.

‘I have made nothing of the Ipecacuanha,⁴¹³ but have taken abundance of pills, and hope that they have done me good.

‘Wales, so far as I have yet seen of it, is a very beautiful and rich country, all enclosed, and planted. Denbigh is not a mean town. Make my compliments to all my friends, and tell Frank I hope he remembers my advice. When his money is out, let him have more. I am, Sir, your humble servant,

‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Aug. 30, 1774.

‘You have given me an inscription for a portrait of Mary Queen of Scots, in which you, in a short and striking manner, point out her hard fate. But you will be pleased to keep in mind, that my picture is a representation of a particular scene in her history; her being forced to resign her crown, while she was imprisoned in the castle of Lochlevin. I must, therefore, beg that you will be kind enough to give me an inscription suited to that particular scene; or determine which of the two formerly transmitted to you is the best; and, at any rate, favour me with an English translation. It will be doubly kind if you comply with my request speedily.

‘Your critical notes on the specimen of Lord Hailes’s Annals of Scotland are excellent. I agreed with you in every one of them. He himself objected only to the alteration of free to brave, in the passage where he says that Edward “departed with the glory due to the conquerour of a free people.” He says, “to call the Scots brave would only add to the glory of their conquerour.” You will make allowance for the national zeal of our annalist. I now send a few more leaves of the Annals, which I hope you will peruse, and return with observations, as you did upon the former occasion. Lord Hailes writes to me thus: – “Mr. Boswell will be pleased to express the grateful sense which Sir David Dalrymple has of Dr. Johnson’s attention to his little specimen. The further specimen will show, that

“Even in an Edward he can see desert.”⁴¹⁴

‘It gives me much pleasure to hear that a republication of Isaac Walton’s Lives is intended. You have been in a mistake in thinking that Lord Hailes had it in view. I remember one morning, while he sat with you in my house, he said, that there should be a new edition of Walton’s Lives; and you said, that “they should be benoted a little.” This was all that passed on that subject. You must, therefore, inform Dr. Horne, that he may resume his plan. I enclose a note concerning it; and if Dr. Horne will write to me, all the attention that I can give shall be cheerfully bestowed, upon what I think a pious work, the preservation and elucidation of Walton, by whose writings I have been most pleasingly edified.’…

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Sept. 16, 1774.

‘Wales has probably detained you longer than I supposed. You will have become quite a mountaineer, by visiting Scotland one year and Wales another. You must next go to Switzerland. Cambria will complain, if you do not honour her also with some remarks. And I find concessere columnte,⁴¹⁵ the booksellers expect another book. I am impatient to see your Tour to Scotland and the Hebrides. Might you not send me a copy by the post as soon as it is printed off?’…

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – Yesterday I returned from my Welch journey. I was sorry to leave my book suspended so long; but having an opportunity of seeing, with so much convenience, a new part of the island, I could not reject it. I have been in five of the six counties of North Wales; and have seen St. Asaph and Bangor, the two seats of their Bishops; have been upon Penmanmaur and Snowden, and passed over into Anglesea. But Wales is so little different from England, that it offers nothing to the speculation of the traveller.

‘When I came home, I found several of your papers, with some pages of Lord Hailes’s Annals, which I will consider. I am in haste to give you some account of myself, lest you should suspect me of negligence in the pressing business which I find recommended to my care, and which I knew nothing of till now, when all care is vain.^a

‘In the distribution of my books I purpose to follow your advice, adding such as shall occur to me. I am not pleased with your notes of remembrance added to your names, for I hope I shall not easily forget them.

‘I have received four Erse books, without any direction, and suspect that they are intended for the Oxford library. If that is the intention, I think it will be proper to add the metrical psalms, and whatever else is printed in Erse, that the present may be complete. The donor’s name should be told.

‘I wish you could have read the book before it was printed, but our distance does not easily permit it.

‘I am sorry Lord Hailes does not intend to publish Walton; I am afraid it will not be done so well, if it be done at all.

‘I purpose now to drive the book forward. Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, and let me hear often from you. I am, dear Sir, your affectionate humble servant,

‘London, Octob. i, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

This tour to Wales, which was made in company with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, though it no doubt contributed to his health and amusement, did not give occasion to such a discursive exercise of his mind as our tour to the Hebrides. I do not find that he kept any journal or notes of what he saw there. All that I heard him say of it was, that ‘instead of bleak and barren mountains, there were green and fertile ones; and that one of the castles in Wales would contain all the castles that he had seen in Scotland.’

Parliament having been dissolved, and his friend Mr. Thrale, who was a steady supporter of government, having again to encounter the storm of a contested election, he wrote a short political pamphlet, entitled The Patriot,∗ addressed to the electors of Great-Britain; a title which, to factious men, who consider a patriot only as an opposer of the measures of government, will appear strangely misapplied. It was, however, written with energetick vivacity; and, except those passages in which it endeavours to vindicate the glaring outrage of the House of Commons in the case of the Middlesex election, and to justify the attempt to reduce our fellow-subjects in America to unconditional submission, it contained an admirable display of the properties of a real patriot, in the original and genuine sense; – a sincere, steady, rational, and unbiassed friend to the interests and prosperity of his King and country. It must be acknowledged, however, that both in this and his two former pamphlets, there was, amidst many powerful arguments, not only a considerable portion of sophistry, but a contemptuous ridicule of his opponents, which was very provoking.

To MR. PERKINS^a

‘SIR, – You may do me a very great favour. Mrs. Williams, a gentlewoman whom you may have seen at Mr. Thrale’s, is a petitioner for Mr. Hetherington’s charity: petitions are this day issued at Christ’s Hospital.

‘I am a bad manager of business in a crowd; and if I should send a mean man, he may be put away without his errand. I must therefore intreat that you will go, and ask for a petition for Anna Williams, whose paper of enquiries was delivered with answers at the counting-house of the hospital on Thursday the 20th. My servant will attend you thither, and bring the petition home when you have it.

‘The petition, which they are to give us, is a form which they deliver to every petitioner, and which the petitioner is afterwards to fill up, and return to them again. This we must have, or we cannot proceed according to their directions. You need, I believe, only ask for a petition; if they enquire for whom you ask, you can tell them.

‘I beg pardon for giving you this trouble; but it is a matter of great importance. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

‘October 25, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – There has appeared lately in the papers an account of a boat overset between Mull and Ulva, in which many passengers were lost, and among them Maclean of Col. We, you know, were once drowned;^b I hope, therefore, that the story is either wantonly or erroneously told. Pray satisfy me by the next post.

‘I have printed two hundred and forty pages. I am able to do nothing much worth doing to dear Lord Hailes’s book. I will, however, send back the sheets; and hope, by degrees, to answer all your reasonable expectations.

‘Mr. Thrale has happily surmounted a very violent and acrimonious opposition; but all joys have their abatements: Mrs. Thrale has fallen from her horse, and hurt herself very much. The rest of our friends, I believe, are well. My compliments to Mrs. Boswell. I am, Sir, your most affectionate servant,

‘London, Octob. 27, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

This letter, which shews his tender concern for an amiable young gentleman to whom we had been very much obliged in the Hebrides, I have inserted according to its date, though before receiving it I had informed him of the melancholy event that the young Laird of Col was unfortunately drowned.

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – Last night I corrected the last page of our Journey to the Hebrides. The printer has detained it all this time, for I had, before I went into Wales, written all except two sheets. The Patriot was called for by my political friends on Friday, was written on Saturday, and I have heard little of it. So vague are conjectures at a distance.^a As soon as I can, I will take care that copies be sent to you, for I would wish that they might be given before they are bought; but I am afraid that Mr. Strahan will send to you and to the booksellers at the same time. Trade is as diligent as courtesy. I have mentioned all that you recommended. Pray make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell and the younglings. The club has, I think, not yet met.

‘Tell me, and tell me honestly, what you think and what others say of our travels. Shall we touch the continent?^b I am, dear Sir, your most humble servant,

‘Nov. 26, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

In his manuscript diary of this year, there is the following entry: –

‘Nov. 27. Advent Sunday. I considered that this day, being the beginning of the ecclesiastical year, was a proper time for a new course of life. I began to read the Greek Testament regularly at 160 verses every Sunday. This day I began the Acts.

‘In this week I read Virgil’s Pastorals. I learned to repeat the Pollio and Gallus.⁴¹⁷ I read carelessly the first Georgick.’

Such evidences of his unceasing ardour, both for ‘divine and human lore,’ when advanced into his sixty-fifth year, and notwithstanding his many disturbances from disease, must make us at once honour his spirit, and lament that it should be so grievously clogged by its material tegument. It is remarkable, that he was very fond of the precision which calculation produces. Thus we find in one of his manuscript diaries, ‘12 pages in 4to. Gr. Test. and 30 pages in Beza’s folio, comprize the whole in 40 days.’

‘DR. JOHNSON to JOHN HOOLE, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I have returned your play,^c which you will find underscored with red, where there was a word which I did not like. The red will be washed off with a little water.

‘The plot is so well framed, the intricacy so artful, and the disentanglement so easy, the suspense so affecting, and the passionate parts so properly interposed, that I have no doubt of its success. I am, Sir, your most humble servant, ‘December 19, 1774.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

1775: yEtat. 66.] – The first effort of his pen in 1775 was, ‘Proposals for publishing the Works of Mrs. Charlotte Lennox,’† in three volumes quarto. In his diary, January 2, I find this entry: ‘Wrote Charlotte’s Proposals.’ But, indeed, the internal evidence would have been quite sufficient. Her claim to the favour of the publick was thus enforced: –

‘Most of the pieces, as they appeared singly, have been read with approbation, perhaps above their merit, but of no great advantage to the writer. She hopes, therefore, that she shall not be considered as too indulgent to vanity, or too studious of interest, if, from that labour which has hitherto been chiefly gainful to others, she endeavours to obtain at last some profit for herself and her children. She cannot decently enforce her claim by the praise of her own performances; nor can she suppose, that, by the most artful and laboured address, any additional notice could be procured to a publication, of which HER MAJESTY has condescended to be the PATRONESS.’

He this year also wrote the Preface to Baretti’s Easy Lessons in Italian and English.†

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

DEAR SIR, – You never did ask for a book by the post till now, and I did not think on it. You see now it is done. I sent one to the King, and I hear he likes it.

‘I shall send a parcel into Scotland for presents, and intend to give to many of my friends. In your catalogue you left out Lord Auchinleck.

‘Let me know, as fast as you read it, how you like it; and let me know if any mistake is committed, or any thing important left out. I wish you could have seen the sheets. My compliments to Mrs. Boswell, and to Veronica, and to all my friends. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

‘January 14, 1775.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Jan. 19, 1775.

‘Be pleased to accept of my best thanks for your Journey to the Hebrides, which came to me by last night’s post. I did really ask the favour twice; but you have been even with me by granting it so speedily. Bis dat qui cito dat.⁴¹⁸ Though ill of a bad cold, you kept me up the greatest part of the last night; for I did not stop till I had read every word of your book. I looked back to our first talking of a visit to the Hebrides, which was many years ago, when sitting by ourselves in the Mitre tavern, in London, I think about witching time o’ night;⁴¹⁹ and then exulted in contemplating our scheme fulfilled, and a monumentum perenne⁴²⁰ of it erected by your superiour abilities. I shall only say, that your book has afforded me a high gratification. I shall afterwards give you my thoughts on particular passages. In the mean time, I hasten to tell you of your having mistaken two names, which you will correct in London, as I shall do here, that the gentlemen who deserve the valuable compliments which you have paid them, may enjoy their honours. In page 106, for Gordon read Murchison; and in page 357, for Maclean read Macleod….

‘But I am now to apply to you for immediate aid in my profession, which you have never refused to grant when I requested it. I enclose you a petition for Dr. Memis, a physician at Aberdeen, in which Sir John Dalrymple has exerted his talents, and which I am to answer as Counsel for the managers of the Royal Infirmary in that city. Mr. Jopp, the Provost, who delivered to you your freedom, is one of my clients, and, as a citizen of Aberdeen, you will support him.

‘The fact is shortly this. In a translation of the charter of the Infirmary from Latin into English, made under the authority of the managers, the same phrase in the original is in one place rendered Physician, but when applied to Dr. Memis is rendered Doctor of Medicine. Dr. Memis complained of this before the translation was printed, but was not indulged with having it altered; and he has brought an action for damages, on account of a supposed injury, as if the designation given to him were an inferiour one, tending to make it be supposed he is not a Physician, and, consequently, to hurt his practice. My father has dismissed the action as groundless, and now he has appealed to the whole Court.’^a

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I long to hear how you like the book; it is, I think, much liked here. But Macpherson is very furious; can you give me any more intelligence about him, or his Fingal? Do what you can, and do it quickly. Is Lord Hailes on our side?

‘Pray let me know what I owed you when I left you, that I may send it to you.

‘I am going to write about the Americans. If you have picked up any hints among your lawyers, who are great masters of the law of nations, or if your own mind suggests any thing, let me know. But mum, it is a secret.

‘I will send your parcel of books as soon as I can; but I cannot do as I wish. However, you find every thing mentioned in the book which you recommended.

‘Langton is here; we are all that ever we were. He is a worthy fellow, without malice, though not without resentment.

‘Poor Beauclerk is so ill, that his life is thought to be in danger. Lady Di nurses him with very great assiduity.

Reynolds has taken too much to strong liquor,^a and seems to delight in his new character.

‘This is all the news that I have; but as you love verses, I will send you a few which made upon Inchkenneth;^b but remember the condition, that you shall not show them, except to Lord Hailes, whom I love better than any man whom I know so little. If he asks you to transcribe them for him, you may do it, but I think he must promise not to let them be copied again, nor to show them as mine.

I have at last sent back Lord Hailes’s sheets. I never think about returning them, because I alter nothing. You will see that I might as well have kept them. However, I am ashamed of my delay; and if I have the honour of receiving any more, promise punctually to return them by the next post. Make my compliments to dear Mrs. Boswell, and to Miss Veronica. I am, dear Sir, yours most faithfully,

‘Jan. 21,1775.’

SAM. JOHNSON.^c

‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Jan. 27, 1775.

‘… You rate our lawyers here too high, when you call them great masters of the law of nations….

‘As for myself, I am ashamed to say that I have read little and thought little on the subject of America. I will be much obliged to you, if you will direct me where I shall find the best information of what is to be said on both sides. It is a subject vast in its present extent and future consequences. The imperfect hints which now float in my mind, tend rather to the formation of an opinion that our government has been precipitant and severe in the resolutions taken against the Bostonians.⁴²¹ Well do you know that I have no kindness for that race. But nations, or bodies of men, should, as well as individuals, have a fair trial, and not be condemned on character alone. Have we not express contracts with our colonies, which afford a more certain foundation of judgement, than general political speculations on the mutual rights of States and their provinces or colonies? Pray let me know immediately what to read, and I shall diligently endeavour to gather for you any thing that I can find. Is Burke’s speech on American taxation published by himself? Is it authentick? I remember to have heard you say, that you had never considered East-Indian affairs; though, surely, they are of much importance to Great-Britain. Under the recollection of this, I shelter myself from the reproach of ignorance about the Americans. If you write upon the subject I shall certainly understand it. But, since you seem to expect that I should know something of it, without your instruction, and that my own mind should suggest something, I trust you will put me in the way….

‘What does Becket mean by the Originals of Fingal and other poems of Ossian, which he advertises to have lain in his shop?’…

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – You sent me a case to consider, in which I have no facts but which are against us, nor any principles on which to reason. It is vain to try to write thus without materials. The fact seems to be against you; at least I cannot know nor say any thing to the contrary. I am glad that you like the book so well. I hear no more of Macpherson. I shall long to know what Lord Hailes says of it. Lend it him privately. I shall send the parcel as soon as I can. Make my compliments to Mrs. BOSWELL. I am, Sir, &c.,

‘Jan. 28, 1775.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Feb. 2, 1775.

‘… As to Macpherson, I am anxious to have from yourself a full and pointed account of what has passed between you and him. It is confidently told here, that before your book came out he sent to you, to let you know that he understood you meant to deny the authenticity of Ossian’s poems; that the originals were in his possession; that you might have inspection of them, and might take the evidenceof people skilledinthe Erse language; and thathe hoped, after this fair offer, you would not be so uncandid as to assert that hehad refused reasonable proof. That you paid no regard to his message, but published your strong attack upon him; that then he wrote a letter to you, in such terms as he thought suited to one who had not acted as a man of veracity. You may believe it gives me pain to hear your conduct represented as unfavourable, while I can only deny what is said, on the ground that your character refutes it, without having any information to oppose. Let me, I beg it of you, be furnished with a sufficient answer to any calumny upon this occasion.

‘Lord Hailes writes to me, (for we correspond more than we talk together,) “As to Fingal, I see a controversy arising, and purpose to keep out of its way. There is no doubt that I might mention some circumstances; but I do not choose to commit them to paper.” What his opinion is, I do not know. He says, “I am singularly obliged to Dr. Johnson for his accurate and useful criticisms. Had he given some strictures on the general plan of the work, it would have added much to his favours.” He is charmed with your verses on Inchkenneth, says they are very elegant, but bids me tell you he doubts whether

“Legitimas faciunt pectora pura preces” ⁴²²

be according to the rubrick: but that is your concern; for, you know, he is a Presbyterian.’…

ToDr. Lawrence.^a

‘SIR, ‘Feb. 7, 1775.

‘One of the Scotch physicians is now prosecuting a corporation that in some publick instrument have stiled him Doctor of Medicine instead of Physician. Boswell desires, being advocate for the corporation, to know whether Doctor of Medicine is not a legitimate title, and whether it may be considered as a disadvantageous distinction. I am to write to-night; be pleased to tell me. I am, Sir, your most, &c,

‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘MY DEAR BOSWELL, – I am surprized that, knowing as you do the disposition of your countrymen to tell lies in favour of each other,^b you can be at all affected by any reports that circulate among them. Macpherson never in his life offered me the sight of any original or of any evidence of any kind; but thought only of intimidating me by noise and threats, till my last answer, – that I would not be deterred from detecting what I thought a cheat, by the menaces of a ruffian – put an end to our correspondence.

‘The state of the question is this. He, and Dr. Blair, whom I consider as deceived, say, that he copied the poem from old manuscripts. His copies, if he had them, and I believe him to have none, are nothing. Where are the manuscripts? They can be shewn if they exist, but they were never shewn. De non existentibus et non apparentibus, says our law, eadem est ratio.⁴²³ No man has a claim to credit upon his own word, when better evidence, if he had it, may be easily produced. But, so far as we can find, the Erse language was never written till very lately for the purposes of religion. A nation that cannot write, or a language that was never written, has no manuscripts.

‘But whatever he has, he never offered to show. If old manuscripts should now be mentioned, I should, unless there were more evidence than can be easily had, suppose them another proof of Scotch conspiracy in national falsehood.

‘Do not censure the expression; you know it to be true.

‘Dr. Memis’s question is so narrow as to allow no speculation; and I have no facts before me but those which his advocate has produced against you.

‘I consulted this morning the President of the London College of Physicians, who says, that with us, Doctor of Physick (we do not say Doctor of Medicine) is the highest title that a practicer of physick can have; that Doctor implies not only Physician, but teacher of physick; that every Doctor is legally a Physician; but no man, not a Doctor, can practice physick but by licence particularly granted. The Doctorate is a licence of itself. It seems to us a very slender cause of prosecution….

‘I am now engaged, but in a little time I hope to do all you would have. My compliments to Madam and Veronica. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

‘February 7, 1775.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

What words were used by Mr. Macpherson in his letter to the venerable Sage, I have never heard; but they are generally said to have been of a nature very different from the language of literary contest. Dr. Johnson’s answer appeared in the news-papers of the day, and has since been frequently re-published; but not with perfect accuracy. I give it as dictated to me by himself, written down in his presence, and authenticated by a note in his own hand-writing, ‘This, I think, is a true copy.’^a

‘MR. JAMES MACPHERSON, – I received your foolish and impudent letter. Any violence offered me I shall do my best to repel; and what I cannot do for myself, the law shall do for me. I hope I shall never be deterred from detecting what I think a cheat, by the menaces of a ruffian.

‘What would you have me retract? I thought your book an imposture; I think it an imposture still. For this opinion I have given my reasons to the publick, which I here dare you to refute. Your rage I defy. Your abilities, since your Homer, are not so formidable; and what I hear of your morals, inclines me to pay regard not to what you shall say, but to what you shall prove. You may print this if you will.

‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

Mr. Macpherson little knew the character of Dr. Johnson, if he supposed that he could be easily intimidated; for no man was ever more remarkable for personal courage. He had, indeed, an aweful dread of death, or rather, ‘of something after death;’⁴²⁴ and what rational man, who seriously thinks of quitting all that he has ever known, and going into a new and unknown state of being, can be without that dread? But his fear was from reflection; his courage natural. His fear, in that one instance, was the result of philosophical and religious consideration. He feared death, but he feared nothing else, not even what might occasion death. Many instances of his resolution may be mentioned. One day, at Mr. Beauclerk’s house in the country, when two large dogs were fighting, he went up to them, and beat them till they separated; and at another time, when told of the danger there was that a gun might burst if charged with many balls, he put in six or seven, and fired it off against a wall. Mr. Langton told me, that when they were swimming together near Oxford, he cautioned Dr. Johnson against a pool, which was reckoned particularly dangerous; upon which Johnson directly swam into it. He told me himself that one night he was attacked in the street by four men, to whom he would not yield, but kept them all at bay, till the watch came up, and carried both him and them to the roundhouse. In the playhouse at Lichfield, as Mr. Garrick informed me, Johnson having for a moment quitted a chair which was placed for him between the side-scenes, a gentleman took possession of it, and when Johnson on his return civilly demanded his seat, rudely refused to give it up; upon which Johnson laid hold of it, and tossed him and the chair into the pit. Foote, who so successfully revived the old comedy, by exhibiting living characters, had resolved to imitate Johnson on the stage, expecting great profits from his ridicule of so celebrated a man. Johnson being informed of his intention, and being at dinner at Mr. Thomas Davies’s the bookseller, from whom I had the story, he asked Mr. Davies ‘what was the common price of an oak stick;’ and being answered six-pence, ‘Why then, Sir, (said he,) give me leave to send your servant to purchase me a shilling one. I’ll have a double quantity; for I am told Foote means to take me off, as he calls it, and I am determined the fellow shall not do it with impunity.’ Davies took care to acquaint Foote of this, which effectually checked the wantonness of the mimick. Mr. Macpherson’s menaces made Johnson provide himself with the same implement of defence; and had he been attacked, I have no doubt that, old as he was, he would have made his corporal prowess be felt as much as his intellectual.

His Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland∗ is a most valuable performance. It abounds in extensive philosophical views of society, and in ingenious sentiments and lively description. A considerable part of it, indeed, consists of speculations, which many years before he saw the wild regions which we visited together, probably had employed his attention, though the actual sight of those scenes undoubtedly quickened and augmented them. Mr. Orme, the very able historian, agreed with me in this opinion, which he thus strongly expressed: – ‘There are in that book thoughts, which, by long revolution in the great mind of Johnson, have been formed and polished like pebbles rolled in the ocean!’

That he was to some degree of excess a true-born Englishman, so as to have ever entertained an undue prejudice against both the country and the people of Scotland, must be allowed. But it was a prejudice of the head, and not of the heart. He had no ill-will to the Scotch; for, if he had been conscious of that, he would never have thrown himself into the bosom of their country, and trusted to the protection of its remote inhabitants with a fearless confidence. His remark upon the nakedness of the country, from its being denuded of trees, was made after having travelled two hundred miles along the eastern coast, where certainly trees are not to be found near the road; and he said it was ‘a map of the road’ which he gave. His disbelief of the authenticity of the poems ascribed to Ossian, a Highland bard, was confirmed in the course of his journey, by a very strict examination of the evidence offered for it; and although their authenticity was made too much a national point by the Scotch, there were many respectable persons in that country, who did not concur in this; so that his judgement upon the question ought not to be decried, even by those who differ from him. As to myself, I can only say, upon a subject now become very uninteresting, that when the fragments of Highland poetry first came out, I was much pleased with their wild peculiarity, and was one of those who subscribed to enable their editor, Mr. Macpherson, then a young man, to make a search in the Highlands and Hebrides for a long poem in the Erse language, which was reported to be preserved somewhere in those regions. But when there came forth an Epick Poem in six books, with all the common circumstances of former compositions of that nature; and when, upon an attentive examination of it, there was found a perpetual recurrence of the same images which appear in the fragments; and when no ancient manuscript, to authenticate the work, was deposited in any publick library, though that was insisted on as a reasonable proof, who could forbear to doubt?

Johnson’s grateful acknowledgements of kindnesses received in the course of this tour, completely refute the brutal reflections which have been thrown out against him, as if he had made an ungrateful return; and his delicacy in sparing in his book those who we find from his letters to Mrs. Thrale were just objects of censure, is much to be admired. His candour and amiable disposition is conspicuous from his conduct, when informed by Mr. Macleod, of Rasay, that he had committed a mistake, which gave that gentleman some uneasiness. He wrote him a courteous and kind letter, and inserted in the news-papers an advertisement, correcting the mistake.^a

The observations of my friend Mr. Dempster in a letter written to me, soon after he had read Dr. Johnson’s book, are so just and liberal, that they cannot be too often repeated: –

‘… There is nothing in the book, from beginning to end, that a Scotchman need to take amiss. What he says of the country is true; and his observations on the people are what must naturally occur to a sensible, observing, and reflecting inhabitant of a convenient metropolis, where a man on thirty pounds a year may be better accommodated with all the little wants of life, than Col or Sir Allan.

‘I am charmed with his researches concerning the Erse language, and the antiquity of their manuscripts. I am quite convinced; and I shall rank Ossian and his Fingals and Oscars amongst the nursery tales, not the true history of our country, in all time to come.

‘Upon the whole, the book cannot displease, for it has no pretensions. The authour neither says he is a geographer, nor an antiquarian, nor very learned in the history of Scotland, nor a naturalist, nor a fossilist. The manners of the people, and the face of the country, are all he attempts to describe, or seems to have thought of. Much were it to be wished, that they who have travelled into more remote, and of course more curious regions, had all possessed his good sense. Of the state of learning, his observations on Glasgow University show he has formed a very sound judgement. He understands our climate too; and he has accurately observed the changes, however slow and imperceptible to us, which Scotland has undergone, in consequence of the blessings of liberty and internal peace.’…

Mr. Knox, another native of Scotland, who has since made the same tour, and published an account of it,⁴²⁵ is equally liberal.

‘I have read (says he,) his book again and again, travelled with him from Berwick to Glenelg, through countries with which I am well acquainted; sailed with him from Glenelg to Rasay, Sky, Rum, Col, Mull, and Icolmkill, but have not been able to correct him in any matter of consequence. I have often admired the accuracy, the precision, and the justness of what he advances, respecting both the country and the people.

‘The Doctor has every where delivered his sentiments with freedom, and in many instances with a seeming regard for the benefit of the inhabitants and the ornament of the country. His remarks on the want of trees and hedges for shade, as well as for shelter to the cattle, are well founded, and merit the thanks, not the illiberal censure of the natives. He also felt for the distresses of the Highlanders, and explodes, with great propriety, the bad management of the grounds, and the neglect of timber in the Hebrides.’

Having quoted Johnson’s just compliments on the Rasay family, he says: ‘On the other hand, I found this family equally lavish in their encomiums upon the Doctor’s conversation, and his subsequent civilities to a young gentleman of that country, who, upon waiting upon him at London, was well received, and experienced all the attention and regard that a warm friend could bestow. Mr. Macleod having also been in London, waited upon the Doctor, who provided a magnificent and expensive entertainment in honour of his old Hebridean acquaintance.’ And talking of the military road by Fort Augustus, he says: ‘By this road, though one of the most rugged in Great Britain, the celebrated Dr. Johnson passed from Inverness to the Hebride Isles. His observations on the country and people are extremely correct, judicious, and instructive.’^a

Mr. Tytler, the acute and able vindicator of Mary Queen of Scots, in one of his letters to Mr. James Elphinstone, published in that gentleman’s Forty Years’ Correspondence, says:

‘I read Dr. Johnson’s Tour with very great pleasure. Some few errours he has fallen into, but of no great importance, and those are lost in the numberless beauties of his work.

‘If I had leisure, I could perhaps point out the most exceptionable places; but at present I am in the country, and have not his book at hand. It is plain he meant to speak well of Scotland; and he has in my apprehension done us great honour in the most capital article, the character of the inhabitants.’

His private letters to Mrs. Thrale, written during the course of his journey, which therefore may be supposed to convey his genuine feelings at the time, abound in such benignant sentiments towards the people who showed him civilities, that no man whose temper is not very harsh and sour, can retain a doubt of the goodness of his heart.

It is painful to recollect with what rancour he was assailed by numbers of shallow irritable North Britons, on account of his supposed injurious treatment of their country and countrymen, in his Journey. Had there been any just ground for such a charge, would the virtuous and candid Dempster have given his opinion of the book, in the terms which I have quoted? Would the patriotick Knox^a have spoken of it as he has done? Would Mr. Tytler, surely

‘— a Scot, if ever Scot there were,’⁴²⁶

have expressed himself thus? And let me add, that, citizen of the world as I hold myself to be, I have that degree of predilection for my natale solum,⁴²⁷ nay, I have that just sense of the merit of an ancient nation, which has been ever renowned for its valour, which in former times maintained its independence against a powerful neighbour, and in modern times has been equally distinguished for its ingenuity and industry in civilized life, that I should have felt a generous indignation at any injustice done to it. Johnson treated Scotland no worse than he did even his best friends, whose characters he used to give as they appeared to him, both in light and shade. Some people, who had not exercised their minds sufficiently, condemned him for censuring his friends. But Sir Joshua Reynolds, whose philosophical penetration and justness of thinking were not less known to those who lived with him, than his genius in his art is admired by the world, explained his conduct thus: ‘He was fond of discrimination, which he could not shew without pointing out the bad as well as the good in every character; and as his friends were those whose characters he knew best, they afforded him the best opportunity for showing the acuteness of his judgement.’

He expressed to his friend Mr. Windham of Norfolk, his wonder at the extreme jealousy of the Scotch, and their resentment at having their country described by him as it really was; when, to say that it was a country as good as England, would have been a gross falsehood. ‘None of us, (said he,) would be offended if a foreigner who has travelled here should say, that vines and olives don’t grow in England.’ And as to his prejudice against the Scotch, which I always ascribed to that nationality which he observed in them, he said to the same gentleman, ‘When I find a Scotchman, to whom an Englishman is as a Scotchman, that Scotchman shall be as an Englishman to me.’ His intimacy with many gentlemen of Scotland, and his employing so many natives of that country as his amanuenses, prove that his prejudice was not virulent; and I have deposited in the British Museum, amongst other pieces of his writing, the following note in answer to one from me, asking if he would meet me at dinner at the Mitre, though a friend of mine, a Scotchman, was to be there: –

‘Mr. Johnson does not see why Mr. Boswell should suppose a Scotchman less acceptable than any other man. He will be at the Mitre.’

My much-valued friend Dr. Barnard, now Bishop of Killaloe, having once expressed to him an apprehension, that if he should visit Ireland he might treat the people of that country more unfavourably than he had done the Scotch, he answered, with strong pointed double-edged wit, ‘Sir, you have no reason to be afraid of me. The Irish are not in a conspiracy to cheat the world by false representations of the merits of their countrymen. No, Sir; the Irish are a FAIR PEOPLE; – they never speak well of one another.’

Johnson told me of an instance of Scottish nationality, which made a very unfavourable impression upon his mind. A Scotchman, of some consideration in London, solicited him to recommend, by the weight of his learned authority, to be master of an English school, a person of whom he who recommended him confessed he knew no more but that he was his countryman. Johnson was shocked at this unconscientious conduct.

All the miserable cavillings against his Journey, in news-papers, magazines, and other fugitive publications, I can speak from certain knowledge, only furnished him with sport. At last there came out a scurrilous volume, larger than Johnson’s own, filled with malignant abuse, under a name, real or fictitious, of some low man⁴²⁸ in an obscure corner of Scotland, though supposed to be the work of another Scotchman,⁴²⁹ who has found means to make himself well known both in Scotland and England. The effect which it had upon Johnson was, to produce this pleasant observation to Mr. Seward, to whom he lent the book: ‘This fellow must be a blockhead. They don’t know how to go about their abuse. Who will read a five shilling book against me? No, Sir, if they had wit, they should have kept pelting me with pamphlets.’

‘MR. BOSWELL to DR. JOHNSON

‘Edinburgh, Feb. 18, 1775.

‘You would have been very well pleased if you had dined with me to-day. I had for my guests, Macquharrie, young Maclean of Col, the successor of our friend, a very amiable man, though not marked with such active qualities as his brother; Mr. Maclean of Torloisk in Mull, a gentleman of Sir Allan’s family; and two of the clan Grant; so that the Highland and Hebridean genius reigned. We had a great deal of conversation about you, and drank your health in a bumper. The toast was not proposed by me, which is a circumstance to be remarked, for I am now so connected with you, that any thing that I can say or do to your honour has not the value of an additional compliment. It is only giving you a guinea out of that treasure of admiration which already belongs to you, and which is no hidden treasure; for I suppose my admiration of you is co-existent with the knowledge of my character.

‘I find that the Highlanders and Hebrideans in general are much fonder of your Journey than the low-country or hither Scots. One of the Grants said to-day, that he was sure you were a man of a good heart, and a candid man, and seemed to hope he should be able to convince you of the antiquity of a good proportion of the poems of Ossian. After all that has passed, I think the matter is capable of being proved to a certain degree. I am told that Macpherson got one old Erse MS. from Clanranald, for the restitution of which he executed a formal obligation; and it is affirmed, that the Gaelick (call it Erse or call it Irish,) has been written in the Highlands and Hebrides for many centuries. It is reasonable to suppose, that such of the inhabitants as acquired any learning, possessed the art of writing as well as their Irish neighbours, and Celtick cousins; and the question is, can sufficient evidence be shewn of this?

‘Those who are skilled in ancient writings can determine the age of MSS. or at least can ascertain the century in which they were written; and if men of veracity, who are so skilled, shall tell us that MSS. in the possession of families in the Highlands and isles are the works of a remote age, I think we should be convinced by their testimony.

‘There is now come to this city, Ranald Macdonald from the Isle of Egg, who has several MSS. of Erse poetry, which he wishes to publish by subscription. I have engaged to take three copies of the book, the price of which is to be six shillings, as I would subscribe for all the Erse that can be printed, be it old or new, that the language may be preserved. This man says, that some of his manuscripts are ancient; and, to be sure, one of them which was shewn to me does appear to have the duskyness of antiquity….

‘The enquiry is not yet quite hopeless, and I should think that the exact truth may be discovered, if proper means be used. I am, &c.

‘JAMES BOSWELL.’

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I am sorry that I could get no books for my friends in Scotland. Mr. Strahan has at last promised to send two dozen to you. If they come, put the names of my friends into them; you may cut them out,^a and paste them with a little starch in the book.

‘You then are going wild about Ossian. Why do you think any part can be proved? The dusky manuscript of Egg is probably not fifty years old; if it be an hundred, it proves nothing. The tale of Clanranald has no proof. Has Clanranald told it? Can he prove it? There are, I believe, no Erse manuscripts. None of the old families had a single letter in Erse that we heard of. You say it is likely that they could write. The learned, if any learned there were, could; but knowing by that learning, some written language, in that language they wrote, as letters had never been applied to their own. If there are manuscripts, let them be shewn, with some proof that they are not forged for the occasion. You say many can remember parts of Ossian. I believe all those parts are versions of the English; at least there is no proof of their antiquity.

‘Macpherson is said to have made some translations himself; and having taught a boy to write it, ordered him to say that he had learnt it of his grandmother. The boy, when he grew up, told the story. This Mrs. Williams heard at Mr. Strahan’s table. Do not be credulous; you know how little a Highlander can be trusted. Macpherson is, so far as I know, very quiet. Is not that proof enough? Every thing is against him. No visible manuscript; no inscription in the language: no correspondence among friends: no transaction of business, of which a single scrap remains in the ancient families. Macpherson’s pretence is, that the character was Saxon. If he had not talked unskilfully of manuscripts, he might have fought with oral tradition much longer. As to Mr. Grant’s information, I suppose he knows much less of the matter than ourselves.

‘In the mean time, the bookseller says that the sale^a is sufficiently quick. They printed four thousand. Correct your copy wherever it is wrong, and bring it up. Your friends will all be glad to see you. I think of going myself into the country about May.

‘I am sorry that I have not managed to send the books sooner. I have left four for you, and do not restrict you absolutely to follow my directions in the distribution. You must use your own discretion.

‘Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell: I suppose she is now just beginning to forgive me. I am, dear Sir, your humble servant,

‘Feb. 25, 1775.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

On Tuesday, March 21, I arrived in London; and on repairing to Dr. Johnson’s before dinner, found him in his study, sitting with Mr. Peter Garrick, the elder brother of David, strongly resembling him in countenance and voice, but of more sedate and placid manners. Johnson informed me, that ‘though Mr. Beauclerk was in great pain, it was hoped he was not in danger, and that he now wished to consult Dr. Heberden to try the effect of a new understanding.’ Both at this interview, and in the evening at Mr. Thrale’s, where he and Mr. Peter Garrick and I met again, he was vehement on the subject of the Ossian controversy; observing, ‘We do not know that there are any ancient Erse manuscripts; and we have no other reason to disbelieve that there are men with three heads, but that we do not know that there are any such men.’ He also was outrageous, upon his supposition that my countrymen ‘loved Scotland better than truth,’⁴³⁰ saying, ‘All of them, – nay not all, – but droves of them, would come up, and attest any thing for the honour of Scotland.’ He also persevered in his wild allegation, that he questioned if there was a tree between Edinburgh and the English border older than himself. I assured him he was mistaken, and suggested that the proper punishment would be that he should receive a stripe at every tree above a hundred years old, that was found within that space. He laughed, and said, I believe I might submit to it for a baubee!

The doubts which, in my correspondence with him, I had ventured to state as to the justice and wisdom of the conduct of Great-Britain towards the American colonies, while I at the same time requested that he would enable me to inform myself upon that momentous subject, he had altogether disregarded; and had recently published a pamphlet, entitled, Taxation no Tyranny; an answer to the Resolutions and Address of the American Congress.∗⁴³¹

He had long before indulged most unfavourable sentiments of our fellow-subjects in America. For, as early as 1769, I was told by Dr. John Campbell, that he had said of them, ‘Sir, they are a race of convicts, and ought to be thankful for any thing we allow them short of hanging.’

Of this performance I avoided to talk with him; for I had now formed a clear and settled opinion, that the people of America were well warranted to resist a claim that their fellow-subjects in the mother-country should have the entire command of their fortunes, by taxing them without their own consent; and the extreme violence which it breathed, appeared to me so unsuitable to the mildness of a Christian philosopher, and so directly opposite to the principles of peace which he had so beautifully recommended in his pamphlet respecting Falkland’s Islands, that I was sorry to see him appear in so unfavourable a light. Besides, I could not perceive in it that ability of argument, or that felicity of expression, for which he was, upon other occasions, so eminent. Positive assertion, sarcastical severity, and extravagant ridicule, which he himself reprobated as a test of truth, were united in this rhapsody.

That this pamphlet was written at the desire of those who were then in power, I have no doubt; and, indeed, he owned to me, that it had been revised and curtailed by some of them. He told me, that they had struck out one passage, which was to this effect: – ‘That the Colonists could with no solidity argue from their not having been taxed while in their infancy, that they should not now be taxed. We do not put a calf into the plow; we wait till he is an ox.’ He said, ‘They struck it out either critically as too ludicrous, or politically as too exasperating. I care not which. It was their business. If an architect says, I will build five stories, and the man who employs him says, I will have only three, the employer is to decide.’ ‘Yes, Sir, (said I,) in ordinary cases. But should it be so when the architect gives his skill and labour gratis?’

Unfavourable as I am constrained to say my opinion of this pamphlet was, yet, since it was congenial with the sentiments of numbers at that time, and as everything relating to the writings of Dr. Johnson is of importance in literary history, I shall therefore insert some passages which were struck out, it does not appear why, either by himself or those who revised it. They appear printed in a few proof leaves of it in my possession, marked with corrections in his own handwriting. I shall distinguish them by Italicks.

In the paragraph where he says the Americans were incited to resistance by European intelligence from ‘Men whom they thought their friends, but who were friends only to themselves,’ there followed, –‘and made by their selfishness, the enemies of their country?

And the next paragraph ran thus: – ‘On the original contrivers of mischief, rather than on those whom they have deluded, let an insulted nation pour out its vengeance.’

The paragraph which came next was in these words: –‘Unhappy is that country in which men can hope for advancement by favouring its enemies. The tranquillity of stable government is not always easily preserved against the machinations of single innovators; but what can be the hope of quiet, when factions hostile to the legislature can be openly formed and openly avowed?’

After the paragraph which now concludes the pamphlet, there followed this, in which he certainly means the great Earl of Chatham, and glances at a certain popular Lord Chancellor.⁴³²

‘If, by the fortune of war, they drive us utterly away, what they will do next can only be conjectured. If a new monarchy is erected, they will want a KING. He who first takes into his hand the sceptre of America, should have a name of good omen. WILLIAM has been known both as conqueror and deliverer; and perhaps England, however contemned, might yet supply them with ANOTHER WILLIAM. Whigs, indeed, are not willing to be governed; and it is possible that KING WILLIAM may be strongly inclined to guide their measures: but Whigs have been cheated like other mortals, and suffered their leader to become their tyrant, under the name of their PROTECTOR. What more they will receive from England, no man can tell. In their rudiments of empire they may want a CHANCELLOR.’

Then came this paragraph: –

‘Their numbers are, at present, not quite sufficient for the greatness which, in some form of government or other, is to rival the ancient monarchies; but by Dr. Franklin’s rule of progression, they will, in a century and a quarter, be more than equal to the inhabitants of Europe. When the Whigs of America are thus multiplied, let the Princes of the earth tremble in their palaces. If they should continue to double and to double, their own hemisphere would not contain them. But let not our boldest oppugners of authority look forward with delight to this futurity of Whiggism.’

How it ended I know not, as it is cut off abruptly at the foot of the last of these proof pages.

His pamphlets in support of the measures of administration were published on his own account, and he afterwards collected them into a volume, with the title of Political Tracts, by the Authour of the Rambler, with this motto: –

‘Fallitur egregio quisquis sub Principe credit

Servitium; nunquam libertas gratior extat

Quam sub Rege pio.’ CLAUDIANUS.⁴³³

These pamphlets drew upon him numerous attacks. Against the common weapons of literary warfare he was hardened; but there were two instances of animadversion which I communicated to him, and from what I could judge, both from his silence and his looks, appeared to me to impress him much.

One was, A Letter to Dr. Samuel Johnson, occasioned by his late political Publications. It appeared previous to his Taxation no Tyranny, and was written by Dr. Joseph Towers. In that performance, Dr. Johnson was treated with the respect due to so eminent a man, while his conduct as a political writer was boldly and pointedly arraigned, as inconsistent with the character of one, who, if he did employ his pen upon politics, ‘It might reasonably be expected should distinguish himself, not by party violence and rancour, but by moderation and by wisdom.’

It concluded thus: – ‘I would, however, wish you to remember, should you again address the publick under the character of a political writer, that luxuriance of imagination or energy of language will ill compensate for the want of candour, of justice, and of truth. And I shall only add, that should I hereafter be disposed to read, as I heretofore have done, the most excellent ofallyourperformances,TheRambler, thepleasurewhichIhavebeenaccus-tomed to find in it will be much diminished by the reflection that the writer of so moral, so elegant, and so valuable a work, was capable of prostituting his talents in such productions as The False Alarm, the Thoughts on the Transactions respecting Falkland’s Islands, and The Patriot.’

I am willing to do justice to the merit of Dr. Towers, of whom I will say, that although I abhor his Whiggish democratical notions and propensities, (for I will not call them principles,) I esteem him as an ingenious, knowing, and very convivial man.

The other instance was a paragraph of a letter to me, from my old and most intimate friend, the Reverend Mr. Temple, who wrote the character of Gray, which has had the honour to be adopted both by Mr. Mason and Dr. Johnson in their accounts of that poet. The words were, – ‘How can your great, I will not say your pious; but your moral friend, support the barbarous measures of administration, which they have not the face to ask even their infidel pensioner Hume to defend.’

However confident of the rectitude of his own mind, Johnson may have felt sincere uneasiness that his conduct should be erroneously imputed to unworthy motives, by good men; and that the influence of his valuable writings should on that account be in any degree obstructed or lessened.

He complained to a Right Honourable friend⁴³⁴ of distinguished talents and very elegant manners, with whom he maintained a long intimacy, and whose generosity towards him will afterwards appear, that his pension having been given to him as a literary character, he had been applied to by administration to write political pamphlets; and he was even so much irritated, that he declared his resolution to resign his pension. His friend shewed him the impropriety of such a measure, and he afterwards expressed his gratitude, and said he had received good advice. To that friend he once signified a wish to have his pension secured to him for his life; but he neither asked nor received from government any reward whatsoever for his political labours.

On Friday, March 24, I met him at the LITERARY CLUB, where were Mr. Beauclerk, Mr. Langton, Mr. Colman, Dr. Percy, Mr. Vesey, Sir Charles Bunbury, Dr. George Fordyce, Mr. Steevens, and Mr. Charles Fox. Before he came in, we talked of his Journey to the Western Islands, and of his coming away ‘willing to believe the second sight,’^a which seemed to excite some ridicule. I was then so impressed with the truth of many of the stories of it which I had been told, that I avowed my conviction, saying, ‘He is only willing to believe: I do believe. The evidence is enough for me, though not for his great mind. What will not fill a quart bottle will fill a pint bottle. I am filled with belief.’ ‘Are you? (said Colman,) then cork it up.’

I found his Journey the common topick of conversation in London at this time, wherever I happened to be. At one of Lord Mansfield’s formal Sunday evening conversations, strangely called Levees, his Lordship addressed me, ‘We have all been reading your travels, Mr. BOSWELL.’ I answered, ‘I was but the humble attendant of Dr. JOHNSON.’ The Chief Justice replied, with that air and manner which none, who ever saw and heard him, can forget, ‘He speaks ill of nobody but Ossian.’

Johnson was in high spirits this evening at the club, and talked with great animation and success. He attacked Swift, as he used to do upon all occasions. The Tale of a Tub is so much superiour to his other writings, that one can hardly believe he was the authour of it.^b ‘There is in it such a vigour of mind, such a swarm of thoughts, so much of nature, and art, and life.’ I wondered to hear him say of Gulliver’s Travels, ‘When once you have thought of big men and little men, it is very easy to do all the rest.’ I endeavoured to make a stand for Swift, and tried to rouse those who were much more able to defend him; but in vain. Johnson at last, of his own accord, allowed very great merit to the inventory of articles found in the pockets of the Man Mountain, particularly the description of his watch, which it was conjectured was his God, as he consulted it upon all occasions. He observed, that ‘Swift put his name to but two things, (after he had a name to put,) The Plan for the Improvement of the English Language, and the last Drapier’s Letter.’

From Swift, there was an easy transition to Mr. Thomas Sheridan. – JOHNSON. ‘Sheridan is a wonderful admirer of the tragedy of Douglas, and presented its authour with a gold medal. Some years ago, at a coffee-house in Oxford, I called to him, “Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Sheridan, how came you to give a gold medal to Home, for writing that foolish play?” This, you see, was wanton and insolent; but I meant to be wanton and insolent. A medal has no value but as a stamp of merit. And was Sheridan to assume to himself the right of giving that stamp? If Sheridan was magnificent enough to bestow a gold medal as an honorary reward of dramatick excellence, he should have requested one of the Universities to choose the person on whom it should be conferred. Sheridan had no right to give a stamp of merit: it was counterfeiting Apollo’s coin.’⁴³⁵

On Monday, March 27, I breakfasted with him at Mr. Strahan’s. He told us, that he was engaged to go that evening to Mrs. Abington’s benefit. ‘She was visiting some ladies whom I was visiting, and begged that I would come to her benefit. I told her I could not hear: but she insisted so much on my coming, that it would have been brutal to have refused her.’ This was a speech quite characteristical. He loved to bring forward his having been in the gay circles of life; and he was, perhaps, a little vain of the solicitations of this elegant and fashionable actress. He told us, the play was to be The Hypocrite, altered from Cibber’s Nonjuror,⁴³⁶ so as to satirize the Methodists. ‘I do not think (said he,) the character of The Hypocrite justly applicable to the Methodists, but it was very applicable to the Nonjurors. I once said to Dr. Madan, a clergyman of Ireland, who was a great Whig, that perhaps a Nonjuror would have been less criminal in taking the oaths imposed by the ruling power, than refusing them; because refusing them, necessarily laid him under almost an irresistible temptation to be more criminal; for, a man must live, and if he precludes himself from the support furnished by the establishment, will probably be reduced to very wicked shifts to maintain himself.’^a BOSWELL. ‘I should think, Sir, that a man who took the oaths contrary to his principles, was a determined wicked man, because he was sure he was committing perjury; whereas a Nonjuror might be insensibly led to do what was wrong, without being so directly conscious of it.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, a man who goes to bed to his patron’s wife is pretty sure that he is committing wickedness.’ BOSWELL. ‘Did the nonjuring clergymen do so, Sir?’ JOHNSON. ‘I am afraid many of them did.’

I was startled at his argument, and could by no means think it convincing. Had not his own father complied with the requisition of government, (as to which he once observed to me, when I pressed him upon it, ‘That, Sir, he was to settle with himself,’) he would probably have thought more unfavourably of a Jacobite who took the oaths:

‘—had he not resembled

My father as he swore—.’⁴³⁸

Mr. Strahan talked of launching into the great ocean of London, in order to have a chance for rising into eminence; and, observing that many men were kept back from trying their fortunes there, because they were born to a competency, said, ‘Small certainties are the bane of men of talents;’ which Johnson confirmed. Mr. Strahan put Johnson in mind of a remark which he had made to him; ‘There are few ways in which a man can be more innocently employed than in getting money.’ ‘The more one thinks of this, (said Strahan,) the juster it will appear.’

Mr. Strahan had taken a poor boy from the country⁴³⁹ as an apprentice, upon Johnson’s recommendation. Johnson having enquired after him, said, ‘Mr. Strahan, let me have five guineas on account, and I’ll give this boy one. Nay, if a man recommends a boy, and does nothing for him, it is sad work. Call him down.’

I followed him into the court-yard, behind Mr. Strahan’s house; and there I had a proof of what I had heard him profess, that he talked alike to all. ‘Some people (said he), tell you that they let themselves down to the capacity of their hearers. I never do that. I speak uniformly, in as intelligible a manner as I can.’

‘Well, my boy, how do you go on?’ – ‘Pretty well, Sir; but they are afraid I an’t strong enough for some parts of the business.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, I shall be sorry for it; for when you consider with how little mental power and corporeal labour a printer can get a guinea a week, it is a very desirable occupation for you. Do you hear, – take all the pains you can; and if this does not do, we must think of some other way of life for you. There’s a guinea.’

Here was one of the many, many instances of his active benevolence. At the same time, the slow and sonorous solemnity with which, while he bent himself down, he addressed a little thick short-legged boy, contrasted with the boy’s aukwardness and awe, could not but excite some ludicrous emotions.

I met him at Drury-lane play-house in the evening. Sir Joshua Reynolds, at Mrs. Abington’s request, had promised to bring a body of wits to her benefit; and having secured forty places in the front boxes, had done me the honour to put me in the group. Johnson sat on the seat directly behind me; and as he could neither see nor hear at such a distance from the stage, he was wrapped up in grave abstraction, and seemed quite a cloud, amidst all the sunshine of glitter and gaiety. I wondered at his patience in sitting out a play of five acts, and a farce of two. He said very little; but after the prologue to Bon Ton⁴⁴⁰ had been spoken, which he could hear pretty well from the more slow and distinct utterance, he talked of prologue-writing, and observed, ‘Dryden has written prologues superiour to any that David Garrick has written; but David Garrick has written more good prologues than Dryden has done. It is wonderful that he has been able to write such a variety of them.’

At Mr. Beauclerk’s, where I supped, was Mr. Garrick, whom I made happy with Johnson’s praise of his prologues; and I suppose, in gratitude to him, he took up one of his favourite topicks, the nationality of the Scotch, which he maintained in his pleasant manner, with the aid of a little poetical fiction. ‘Come, come, don’t deny it: they are really national. Why, now, the Adams are as liberal-minded men as any in the world: but, I don’t know how it is, all their workmen are Scotch. You are, to be sure, wonderfully free from that nationality: but so it happens, that you employ the only Scotch shoe-black in London.’ He imitated the manner of his old master with ludicrous exaggeration; repeating, with pauses and half-whistlings interjected,

‘Os homini sublime dedit, — ccelumque tueri

Jussit, — et erectos ad sidera — tollere vultus;’⁴⁴¹

looking downwards all the time, and, while pronouncing the four last words, absolutely touching the ground with a kind of contorted gesticulation.

Garrick, however, when he pleased, could imitate Johnson very exactly; for that great actor, with his distinguished powers of expression which were so universally admired, possessed also an admirable talent of mimickry. He was always jealous that Johnson spoke lightly of him. I recollect his exhibiting him to me one day, as if saying, ‘Davy has some convivial pleasantry about him, but ’tis a futile fellow;’ which he uttered perfectly with the tone and air of JOHNSON.

I cannot too frequently request of my readers, while they peruse my account of Johnson’s conversation, to endeavour to keep in mind his deliberate and strong utterance. His mode of speaking was indeed very impressive;^a and I wish it could be preserved as musick is written, according to the very ingenious method of Mr. Steele,^b who has shewn how the recitation of Mr. Garrick, and other eminent speakers, might be transmitted to posterity in score.^c

Next day I dined with Johnson at Mr. Thrale’s. He attacked Gray, calling him a ‘dull fellow.’ BOSWELL. ‘I understand he was reserved, and might appear dull in company; but surely he was not dull in poetry.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, he was dull in company, dull in his closet, dull everywhere. He was dull in a new way, and that made many people think him great. He was a mechanical poet.’ He then repeated some ludicrous lines, which have escaped my memory, and said, ‘Is not that great, like his Odes?’ Mrs. Thrale maintained that his Odes were melodious; upon which he exclaimed,

‘Weave the warp, and weave the woof;’ –

I added, in a solemn tone,

‘The winding-sheet of Edward’s race.’

‘There is a good line.’ ‘Ay, (said he,) and the next line is a good one,’ (pronouncing it contemptuously;)

‘Give ample verge and room enough.’ –⁴⁴²

‘No, Sir, there are but two good stanzas in Gray’s poetry, which are in his Elegy in a Country Church-yard.’ He then repeated the stanza,

‘For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey,’ &c.

mistaking one word; for instead of precincts he said confines. He added, ‘The other stanza I forget.’

A young lady who had married a man⁴⁴³ much her inferiour in rank being mentioned, a question arose how a woman’s relations should behave to her in such a situation; and, while I recapitulate the debate, and recollect what has since happened, I cannot but be struck in a manner that delicacy forbids me to express. While I contended that she ought to be treated with an inflexible steadiness of displeasure, Mrs. Thrale was all for mildness and forgiveness, and, according to the vulgar phrase, ‘making the best of a bad bargain.’ JOHNSON. ‘Madam, we must distinguish. Were I a man of rank, I would not let a daughter starve who had made a mean marriage; but having voluntarily degraded herself from the station which she was originally entitled to hold, I would support her only in that which she herself had chosen; and would not put her on a level with my other daughters. You are to consider, Madam, that it is our duty to maintain the subordination of civilized society; and when there is a gross and shameful deviation from rank, it should be punished so as to deter others from the same perversion.’

After frequently considering this subject, I am more and more confirmed in what I then meant to express, and which was sanctioned by the authority, and illustrated by the wisdom, of Johnson; and I think it of the utmost consequence to the happiness of Society, to which subordination is absolutely necessary. It is weak, and contemptible, and unworthy, in a parent to relax in such a case. It is sacrificing general advantage to private feelings. And let it be considered, that the claim of a daughter who has acted thus, to be restored to her former situation, is either fantastical or unjust. If there be no value in the distinction of rank, what does she suffer by being kept in the situation to which she has descended? If there be a value in that distinction, it ought to be steadily maintained. If indulgence be shewn to such conduct, and the offenders know that in a longer or shorter time they shall be received as well as if they had not contaminated their blood by a base alliance, the great check upon that inordinate caprice which generally occasions low marriages will be removed, and the fair and comfortable order of improved life will be miserably disturbed.

Lord Chesterfield’s Letters being mentioned, Johnson said, ‘It was not to be wondered at that they had so great a sale, considering that they were the letters of a statesman, a wit, one who had been so much in the mouths of mankind, one long accustomed virum volitare per ora.’⁴⁴⁴

On Friday, March 31, I supped with him and some friends at a tavern. One of the company⁴⁴⁵ attempted, with too much forwardness, to rally him on his late appearance at the theatre; but had reason to repent of his temerity. ‘Why, Sir, did you go to Mrs. Abington’s benefit? Did you see?’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir.’ ‘Did you hear?’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir.’ ‘Why then, Sir, did you go?’ JOHNSON. ‘Because, Sir, she is a favourite of the publick; and when the publick cares the thousandth part for you that it does for her, I will go to your benefit too.’

Next morning I won a small bet from Lady Diana Beauclerk, by asking him as to one of his particularities, which her Ladyship laid I durst not do. It seems he had been frequently observed at the Club to put into his pocket the Seville oranges, after he had squeezed the juice of them into the drink which he made for himself. Beauclerk and Garrick talked of it to me, and seemed to think that he had a strange unwillingness to be discovered. We could not divine what he did with them; and this was the bold question to be put. I saw on his table the spoils of the preceding night, some fresh peels nicely scraped and cut into pieces. ‘O, Sir, (said I,) I now partly see what you do with the squeezed oranges which you put into your pocket at the Club.’ JOHNSON. ‘I have a great love for them.’ BOSWELL. ‘And pray, Sir, what do you do with them? You scrape them, it seems, very neatly, and what next?’ JOHNSON. ‘I let them dry, Sir.’ BOSWELL. ‘And what next?’ JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir, you shall know their fate no further.’ BOSWELL. ‘Then the world must be left in the dark. It must be said (assuming a mock solemnity,) he scraped them, and let them dry, but what he did with them next, he never could be prevailed upon to tell.’ JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir, you should say it more emphatically: – he could not be prevailed upon, even by his dearest friends, to tell.’

He had this morning received his Diploma as Doctor of Laws from the University of Oxford. He did not vaunt of his new dignity, but I understood he was highly pleased with it. I shall here insert the progress and completion of that high academical honour, in the same manner as I have traced his obtaining that of Master of Arts.

To the Reverend Dr. FOTHERGILL, vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford, to be communicated to the Heads of Houses, and proposed in Convocation.

‘MR. VICE-CHANCELLOR AND GENTLEMEN,

‘The honour of the degree of M.A. by diploma, formerly conferred upon Mr. Samuel Johnson, inconsequence of his having eminently distinguished himself by the publication of a series of Essays, excellently calculated to form the manners of the people, and in which the cause of religion and morality has been maintained and recommended by the strongest powers of argument and elegance of language, reflected an equal degree of lustre upon the University itself.

‘The many learned labours which have since that time employed the attention and displayed the abilities of that great man, so much to the advancement of literature and the benefit of the community, render him worthy of more distinguished honours in the Republick of letters: and I persuade myself, that I shall act agreeably to the sentiments of the whole University, in desiring that it may be proposed in Convocation to confer on him the degree of Doctor in Civil Law by diploma, to which I readily give my consent; and am, Mr. Vice-Chancellor and Gentlemen, your affectionate friend and servant, ‘Downing-street, March 23, 1775.’ ‘North.’^a

DIPLOMA.

‘CANCELLARIUS, Magistri, etScbolares Universitatis Oxoniensis omnibus ad quos prcesentes Literce pervenerint, Salutem in Domino Sempiternam.

‘SCIATIS, virum illustrem, SAMUELEM JOHNSON, in omni bumaniorum literarum genere eruditum, omniumque scientiarum comprebensione felicissi-mum, scriptis suis, adpopularium mores formandos summa verborum elegantiä ac sententiarum gravitate compositis, ita olim inclaruisse, ut dignus videretur cui ab Academiä suä eximia qucedam laudis prcemia {deferrentur} quique {in} venerabilem Magistrorum Ordinem summa cum dignitate cooptaretur:

Cum verb eundem clarissimum virum tot posteä tantique labores, in patriä prcesertim linguä ornandä et stabiliendä feliciter impensi, ita insigniverint, ut in Literarum Republicä PRINCEPS jam et PRIMARIUS jure babeatur; Nos CANCELLARIUS, Magistri, etScbolares Universitatis Oxoniensis, quo talis viri merita pari honoris remuneratione excequentur, etperpetuum suce simul laudis, nostrceque ergä literas propensissimce voluntatis extet monumentum, in solenni Convocatione Doctorum et Magistrorum Regentium, et non Regentium, prce-dictum SAMUELEM JOHNSON Doctorem in Jure Civili renunciavimus et constituimus, eumque virtute prcesentis Diplomatis singulis juribus, privilegiis et bonoribus, ad istum gradum quäquä pertinentibus, frui et gaudere jussimus. In cujus rei testimonium commune Universitatis Oxoniensis sigillum prcesentibus apponi fecimus.

‘Datum in Domo nostrce Convocationis die tricesimo Mensis Martii, Anno Domini Millesimo septingentesimo, septuagesimo quinto.’^b446

‘Viro Reverendo TNOMAE FOTHERGILL, S.T.P. Universitatis Oxoniensis Vice-Cancellario.

‘S. P. D.

‘SAM. JOHNSON.

‘MULTIS non est opus, ut testimonium quo, te preside, Oxonienses nomen meum posteris commendärunt, quali animo acceperim compertum faciam. Nemo sibi placens non IcBtatur; nemo sibi non placet, qui vobis, literarum arbitris, placere potuit. Hoc tarnen habet incommodi tantum beneficium, quod mihi nunquam posthäc sine vestrcB fames detrimento vel labi liceat vel cessare; semperque sit timendum, ne quod mihi tarn eximicB laudi est, vobis aliquando fiat opprobrio. Vale.’^a

‘7 Id. Apr., 1775.’⁴⁴⁸

He revised some sheets of Lord Hailes’s Annals of Scotland; and wrote a few notes on the margin with red ink, which he bade me tell his Lordship did not sink into the paper, and might be wiped off with a wet sponge, so that he did not spoil his manuscript. I observed to him that there were very few of his friends so accurate as that I could venture to put down in writing what they told me as his sayings. JOHNSON. ‘Why should you write down my sayings?’ BOSWELL. ‘I write them when they are good.’ JOHNSON. ‘Nay, you may as well write down the sayings of any one else that are good.’ But where, I might with great propriety have added, can I find such?

I visited him by appointment in the evening, and we drank tea with Mrs. Williams. He told me that he had been in the company of a gentleman⁴⁴⁹ whose extraordinary travels had been much the subject of conversation. But I found that he had not listened to him with that full confidence, without which there is little satisfaction in the society of travellers. I was curious to hear what opinion so able a judge as Johnson had formed of his abilities, and I asked if he was not a man of sense. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, he is not a distinct relater; and I should say, he is neither abounding nor deficient in sense. I did not perceive any superiority of understanding.’ BOSWELL. ‘But will you not allow him a nobleness of resolution, in penetrating into distant regions?’ JOHNSON. ‘That, Sir, is not to the present purpose. We are talking of his sense. A fighting cock has a nobleness of resolution.’

Next day, Sunday, April 2, I dined with him at Mr. Hoole’s. We talked of Pope. JOHNSON. ‘He wrote his Dunciad for fame. That was his primary motive. Had it not been for that, the dunces might have railed against him till they were weary, without his troubling himself about them. He delighted to vex them, no doubt; but he had more delight in seeing how well he could vex them.’

The Odes to Obscurity and Oblivion, in ridicule of ‘cool Mason and warm Gray,’ being mentioned, Johnson said, ‘They are Colman’s best things.’ Upon its being observed that it was believed these Odes were made by Colman and Lloyd jointly; – JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir, how can two people make an Ode? Perhaps one made one of them, and one the other.’ I observed that two people had made a play, and quoted the anecdote of Beaumont and Fletcher, who were brought under suspicion of treason, because while concerting the plan of a tragedy when sitting together at a tavern, one of them was overheard saying to the other, ‘I’ll kill the King.’ JOHNSON. ‘The first of these Odes is the best: but they are both good. They exposed a very bad kind of writing.’ BOSWELL. ‘surely, Sir, Mr. Mason’s Elfrida is a fine Poem: at least you will allow there are some good passages in it.’ JOHNSON. ‘There are now and then some good imitations of Milton’s bad manner.’

I often wondered at his low estimation of the writings of Gray and Mason. Of Gray’s poetry I have in a former part of this work expressed my high opinion; and for that of Mr. Mason I have ever entertained a warm admiration. His Elfrida is exquisite, both in poetical description and moral sentiment; and his Caractacus is a noble drama. Nor can I omit paying my tribute of praise to some of his smaller poems, which I have read with pleasure, and which no criticism shall persuade me not to like. If I wondered at Johnson’s not tasting the works of Mason and Gray, still more have I wondered at their not tasting his works; that they should be insensible to his energy of diction, to his splendour of images, and comprehension of thought. Tastes may differ as to the violin, the flute, the hautboy, in short all the lesser instruments: but who can be insensible to the powerful impressions of the majestick organ?

His Taxation no Tyranny being mentioned, he said, ‘I think I have not been attacked enough for it. Attack is the re-action; I never think I have hit hard, unless it rebounds.’ BOSWELL. ‘I don’t know, Sir, what you would be at. Five or six shots of small arms in every newspaper, and repeated cannonading in pamphlets, might, I think, satisfy you. But, Sir, you’ll never make out this match, of which we have talked, with a certain political lady,⁴⁵⁰ since you are so severe against her principles.’ JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir, I have the better chance for that. She is like the Amazons of old; she must be courted by the sword. But I have not been severe upon her.’ BOSWELL. ‘Yes, Sir, you have made her ridiculous.’ JOHNSON. ‘That was already done, Sir. To endeavour to make her ridiculous, is like blacking the chimney.’

I put him in mind that the landlord at Ellon in Scotland said, that he heard he was the greatest man in England, – next to Lord Mansfield. ‘Ay, Sir, (said he,) the exception defined the idea. A Scotchman could go no farther:

“The force of Nature could no farther go.”

Lady Miller’s collection of verses by fashionable people, which were put into her Vase at Batheaston villa, near Bath, in competition for honorary prizes, being mentioned, he held them very cheap: ‘Bouts rime´ s⁴⁵² (said he,) is a mere conceit, and an old conceit now; I wonder how people were persuaded to write in that manner for this lady.’ I named a gentleman of his acquaintance who wrote for the Vase.⁴⁵³ JOHNSON. ‘He was a blockhead for his pains.’ BOSWELL. ‘The Duchess of Northumberland wrote.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, the Duchess of Northumberland may do what she pleases: nobody will say anything to a lady of her high rank. But I should be apt to throw∗∗∗∗∗∗’s verses in his face.’

I talked of the cheerfulness of Fleet-street, owing to the constant quick succession of people which we perceive passing through it. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, Fleet-street has a very animated appearance; but I think the full tide of human existence is at Charing-cross.’

He made the common remark on the unhappiness which men who have led a busy life experience, when they retire in expectation of enjoying themselves at ease, and that they generally languish for want of their habitual occupation, and wish to return to it. He mentioned as strong an instance of this as can well be imagined. ‘An eminent tallow-chandler in London, who had acquired a considerable fortune, gave up the trade in favour of his foreman, and went to live at a country-house near town. He soon grew weary, and paid frequent visits to his old shop, where he desired they might let him know their melting-days, and he would come and assist them; which he accordingly did. Here, Sir, was a man, to whom the most disgusting circumstance in the business to which he had been used was a relief from idleness.’

On Wednesday, April 5, I dined with him at Messieurs Dilly’s, with Mr. John Scott of Amwell, the Quaker, Mr. Langton, Mr. Miller, (now Sir John,) and Dr. Thomas Campbell, an Irish clergyman, whom I took the liberty of inviting to Mr. Dilly’s table, having seen him at Mr. Thrale’s, and been told that he had come to England chiefly with a view to see Dr. Johnson, for whom he entertained the highest veneration. He has since published A Philosophical Survey of the South of Ireland, a very entertaining book, which has, however, one fault; – that it assumes the fictitious character of an Englishman.

We talked of publick speaking. – JOHNSON. ‘We must not estimate a man’s powers by his being able or not able to deliver his sentiments in publick. Isaac Hawkins Browne, one of the first wits of this country, got into Parliament, and never opened his mouth. For my own part, I think it is more disgraceful never to try to speak, than to try it and fail; as it is more disgraceful not to fight, than to fight and be beaten.’ This argument appeared to me fallacious; for if a man has not spoken, it may be said that he would have done very well if he had tried; whereas, if he has tried and failed, there is nothing to be said for him. ‘Why then, (I asked,) is it thought disgraceful for a man not to fight, and not disgraceful not to speak in publick?’ JOHNSON. ‘Because there may be other reasons for a man’s not speaking in publick than want of resolution: he may have nothing to say, (laughing.) Whereas, Sir, you know courage is reckoned the greatest of all virtues; because, unless a man has that virtue, he has no security for preserving any other.’

He observed, that ‘the statutes against bribery were intended to prevent upstarts with money from getting into Parliament;’ adding, that ‘if he were a gentleman of landed property, he would turn out all his tenants who did not vote for the candidate whom he supported.’ Langton. ‘Would not that, Sir, be checking the freedom of election?’ JOHNSON. ‘sir, the law does not mean that the privilege of voting should be independent of old family interest; of the permanent property of the country.’

On Thursday, April 6, I dined with him at Mr. Thomas Davies’s, with Mr. Hicky, the painter, and my old acquaintance Mr. Moody, the player.

Dr. Johnson, as usual, spoke contemptuously of Colley Cibber. ‘It is wonderful that a man, who for forty years had lived with the great and the witty, should have acquired so ill the talents of conversation: and he had but half to furnish; for one half of what he said was oaths.’ He, however, allowed considerable merit to some of his comedies, and said there was no reason to believe that the Careless Husband was not written by himself. Davies said, he was the first dramatick writer who introduced genteel ladies upon the stage. Johnson refuted this observation by instancing several such characters in comedies before his time. Davies. (trying to defend himself from a charge of ignorance,) ‘I mean genteel moral characters.’ ‘I think (said Hicky,) gentility and morality are inseparable.’ BOSWELL. ‘By no means, Sir. The genteelest characters are often the most immoral. Does not Lord Chesterfield give precepts for uniting wickedness and the graces? A man, indeed, is not genteel when he gets drunk; but most vices may be committed very genteelly: a man may debauch his friend’s wife genteelly: he may cheat at cards genteelly.’ Hicky. ‘I do not think that is genteel.’ BOSWELL. ‘sir, it may not be like a gentleman, but it may be genteel.’ JOHNSON. ‘You are meaning two different things. One means exteriour grace; the other honour. It is certain that a man may be very immoral with exteriour grace. Lovelace, in Clarissa,⁴⁵⁴ is a very genteel and a very wicked character. Tom Hervey, who died t’other day, though a vicious man, was one of the genteelest men that ever lived.’ Tom Davies instanced Charles the Second. JOHNSON. (taking fire at any attack upon that Prince, for whom he had an extraordinary partiality,) ‘Charles the Second was licentious in his practice; but he always had a reverence for what was good. Charles the Second knew his people, and rewarded merit. The Church was at no time better filled than in his reign. He was the best King we have had from his time till the reign of his present Majesty, except James the Second, who was a very good King, but unhappily believed that it was necessary for the salvation of his subjects that they should be Roman Catholicks. He had the merit of endeavouring to do what he thought was for the salvation of the souls of his subjects, till he lost a great Empire. We, who thought that we should not be saved if we were Roman Catholicks, had the merit of maintaining our religion, at the expence of submitting ourselves to the government of King William, (for it could not be done otherwise,) – to the government of one of the most worthless scoundrels that ever existed. No; Charles the Second was not such a man as —, (naming another King).⁴⁵⁵ He did not destroy his father’s will. He took money, indeed, from France: but he did not betray those over whom he ruled: he did not let the French fleet pass ours. George the First knew nothing, and desired to know nothing; did nothing, and desired to do nothing: and the only good thing that is told of him is, that he wished to restore the crown to its hereditary successor.’ He roared with prodigious violence against George the Second. When he ceased, Moody interjected, in an Irish tone, and with a comick look, ‘Ah! poor George the Second.’

I mentioned that Dr. Thomas Campbell had come from Ireland to London, principally to see Dr. JOHNSON. He seemed angry at this observation. Davies. ‘Why, you know, Sir, there came a man from Spain to see Livy; and Corelli came to England to see Purcell, and when he heard he was dead, went directly back again to Italy.’ JOHNSON. ‘I should not have wished to be dead to disappoint Campbell, had he been so foolish as you represent him; but I should have wished to have been a hundred miles off.’ This was apparently perverse; and I do believe it was not his real way of thinking: he could not but like a man who came so far to see him. He laughed with some complacency, when I told him Campbell’s odd expression to me concerning him: ‘That having seen such a man, was a thing to talk of a century hence,’ – as if he could live so long.

We got into an argument whether the Judges who went to India might with propriety engage in trade. Johnson warmly maintained that they might. ‘For why (he urged,) should not Judges get riches, as well as those who deserve them less?’ I said, they should have sufficient salaries, and have nothing to take off their attention from the affairs of the publick. JOHNSON. ‘No Judge, Sir, can give his whole attention to his office; and it is very proper that he should employ what time he has to himself, for his own advantage, in the most profitable manner.’ ‘Then, Sir, (said Davies, who enlivened the dispute by making it somewhat dramatick,) he may become an insurer; and when he is going to the bench, he may be stopped, – “Your Lordship cannot go yet: here is a bunch of invoices: several ships are about to sail.” ‘ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, you may as well say a Judge should not have a house; for they may come and tell him, “Your Lordship’s house is on fire;” and so, instead of minding the business of his Court, he is to be occupied in getting the engine with the greatest speed. There is no end of this. Every Judge who has land, trades to a certain extent in corn or in cattle; and in the land itself, undoubtedly. His steward acts for him, and so do clerks for a great merchant. A Judge may be a farmer; but he is not to geld his own pigs. A Judge may play a little at cards for his amusement; but he is not to play at marbles, or at chuck-farthing in the Piazza. No, Sir; there is no profession to which a man gives a very great proportion of his time. It is wonderful, when a calculation is made, how little the mind is actually employed in the discharge of any profession. No man would be a Judge, upon the condition of being obliged to be totally a Judge. The best employed lawyer has his mind at work but for a small proportion of his time: a great deal of his occupation is merely mechanical. I once wrote for a magazine: I made a calculation, that if I should write but a page a day, at the same rate, I should, in ten years, write nine volumes in folio, of an ordinary size and print.’ BOSWELL. ‘such as Carte’s History?’ JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir. When a man writes from his own mind, he writes very rapidly.^a The greatest part of a writer’s time is spent in reading, in order to write: a man will turn over half a library to make one book.’

I argued warmly against the Judges trading, and mentioned Hale as an instance of a perfect Judge, who devoted himself entirely to his office. JOHNSON. ‘Hale, Sir, attended to other things besides law: he left a great estate.’ BOSWELL. ‘That was, because what he got, accumulated without any exertion and anxiety on his part.’

While the dispute went on, Moody once tried to say something upon our side. Tom Davies clapped him on the back, to encourage him. Beauclerk, to whom I mentioned this circumstance, said, ‘that he could not conceive a more humiliating situation than to be clapped on the back by Tom Davies.’

We spoke of Rolt, to whose Dictionary of Commerce Dr. Johnson wrote the Preface. JOHNSON. ‘Old Gardner the bookseller employed Rolt and Smart to write a monthly miscellany, called The Universal Visitor. There was a formal written contract, which Allen the printer saw. Gardner thought as you do of the Judge. They were bound to write nothing else; they were to have, I think, a third of the profits of this sixpenny pamphlet; and the contract was for ninety-nine years. I wish I had thought of giving this to Thurlow, in the cause about Literary Property. What an excellent instance would it have been of the oppression of booksellers towards poor authours!’^b (smiling.) Davies, zealous for the honour of the Trade, said, Gardner was not properly a bookseller. JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir; he certainly was a bookseller. He had served his time regularly, was a member of the Stationers’ company, kept a shop in the face of mankind, purchased copy-right, and was a bibliopole,⁴⁵⁶ Sir, in every sense. I wrote for some months in The Universal Visitor, for poor Smart, while he was mad, not then knowing the terms on which he was engaged to write, and thinking I was doing him good. I hoped his wits would soon return to him. Mine returned to me, and I wrote in The Universal Visitor no longer.’

Friday, April 7, I dined with him at a Tavern, with a numerous company. JOHNSON. ‘I have been reading Twiss’s Travels in Spain, which are just come out. They are as good as the first book of travels that you will take up. They are as good as those of Keysler or Blainville; nay, as Addison’s, if you except the learning. They are not so good as Brydone’s, but they are better than Pococke’s. I have not, indeed, cut the leaves yet; but I have read in them where the pages are open, and I do not suppose that what is in the pages which are closed is worse than what is in the open pages. It would seem (he added,) that Addison had not acquired much Italian learning, for we do not find it introduced into his writings. The only instance that I recollect, is his quoting ”Stavo bene; per star meglio, sto qui.” ‘^a

I mentioned Addison’s having borrowed many of his classical remarks from Leandro Alberti. Mr. Beauclerk said, ‘It was alledged that he had borrowed also from another Italian authour.’⁴⁵⁷ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, all who go to look for what the Classicks have said of Italy, must find the same passages; and I should think it would be one of the first things the Italians would do on the revival of learning, to collect all that the Roman authours have said of their country.’

Ossian being mentioned; – JOHNSON. ‘supposing the Irish and Erse language to be the same, which I do not believe, yet as there is no reason to suppose that the inhabitants of the Highlands and Hebrides ever wrote their native language, it is not to be credited that a long poem was preserved among them. If we had no evidence of the art of writing being practised in one of the counties of England, we should not believe that a long poem was preserved there, though in the neighbouring counties, where the same language was spoken, the inhabitants could write. Beauclerk. ‘The ballad of Lilliburlero⁴⁵⁸ was once in the mouths of all the people of this country, and is said to have had a great effect in bringing about the Revolution. Yet I question whether any body can repeat it now; which shews how improbable it is that much poetry should be preserved by tradition.’

One of the company⁴⁵⁹ suggested an internal objection to the antiquity of the poetry said to be Ossian’s, that we do not find the wolf in it, which must have been the case had it been of that age.

The mention of the wolf had led Johnson to think of other wild beasts; and while Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Langton were carrying on a dialogue about something which engaged them earnestly, he, in the midst of it, broke out, ‘Pennant tells of Bears – ‘ [what he added, I have forgotten.] They went on, which he being dull of hearing, did not perceive, or, if he did, was not willing to break off his talk; so he continued to vociferate his remarks, and Bear (‘like a word in a catch’ as Beauclerk said,) was repeatedly heard at intervals, which coming from him who, by those who did not know him, had been so often assimilated to that ferocious animal, while we who were sitting around could hardly stifle laughter, produced a very ludicrous effect. Silence having ensued, he proceeded: ‘We are told, that the black bear is innocent; but I should not like to trust myself with him.’ Mr. Gibbon muttered, in a low tone of voice, ‘I should not like to trust myself with you.’ This piece of sarcastick pleasantry was a prudent resolution, if applied to a competition of abilities.

Patriotism having become one of our topicks, Johnson suddenly uttered, in a strong determined tone, an apophthegm, at which many will start: ‘Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.’ But let it be considered, that he did not mean a real and generous love of our country, but that pretended patriotism which so many, in all ages and countries, have made a cloak for self-interest. I maintained, that certainly all patriots were not scoundrels. Being urged, (not by Johnson,) to name one exception, I mentioned an eminent person,⁴⁶⁰ whom we all greatly admired. JOHNSON. ‘sir, I do not say that he is not honest; but we have no reason to conclude from his political conduct that he is honest. Were he to accept of a place from this ministry, he would lose that character of firmness which he has, and might be turned out of his place in a year. This ministry is neither stable, nor grateful to their friends, as Sir Robert Walpole was, so that he may think it more for his interest to take his chance of his party coming in.’

Mrs. Pritchard being mentioned, he said, ‘Her playing was quite mechanical. It is wonderful how little mind she had. Sir, she had never read the tragedy of Macbeth all through. She no more thought of the play out of which her part was taken, than a shoemaker thinks of the skin, out of which the piece of leather, of which he is making a pair of shoes, is cut.’

On Saturday, May 8,⁴⁶¹ I dined with him at Mr. Thrale’s, where we met the Irish Dr. Campbell. Johnson had supped the night before at Mrs. Abington’s, with some fashionable people whom he named; and he seemed much pleased with having made one in so elegant a circle. Nor did he omit to pique his mistress a little with jealousy of her housewifery; for he said, (with a smile,) ‘Mrs. Abington’s jelly, my dear lady, was better than yours.’

Mrs. Thrale, who frequently practised a coarse mode of flattery, by repeating his bon-mots in his hearing, told us that he had said, a certain celebrated actor⁴⁶² was just fit to stand at the door of an auction-room with a long pole, and cry ‘Pray gentlemen, walk in;’ and that a certain authour,⁴⁶³ upon hearing this, had said, that another still more celebrated actor⁴⁶⁴ was fit for nothing better than that, and would pick your pocket after you came out. JOHNSON. ‘Nay, my dear lady, there is no wit in what our friend added; there is only abuse. You may as well say of any man that he will pick a pocket. Besides, the man who is stationed at the door does not pick people’s pockets; that is done within, by the auctioneer.’

Mrs. Thrale told us, that Tom Davies repeated, in a very bald manner, the story of Dr. Johnson’s first repartee to me, which I have related exactly.^a He made me say, ‘I was born in Scotland,’ instead of ‘I come from Scotland;’ so that Johnson saying, ‘That, Sir, is what a great many of your countrymen cannot help,’ had no point, or even meaning: and that upon this being mentioned to Mr. Fitzherbert, he observed, ‘It is not every man that can carry a bon mot.’

On Monday, April 10, I dined with him at General Oglethorpe’s, with Mr. Langton and the Irish Dr. Campbell, whom the General had obligingly given me leave to bring with me. This learned gentleman was thus gratified with a very high intellectual feast, by not only being in company with Dr. Johnson, but with General Oglethorpe, who had been so long a celebrated name both at home and abroad.^a

I must, again and again, intreat of my readers not to suppose that my imperfect record of conversation contains the whole of what was said by Johnson, or other eminent persons who lived with him. What I have preserved, however, has the value of the most perfect authenticity.

He this day enlarged upon Pope’s melancholy remark,

‘Man never is, but always to be blest.’⁴⁶⁶

He asserted that the present was never a happy state to any human being; but that, as every part of life, of which we are conscious, was at some point of time a period yet to come, in which felicity was expected, there was some happiness produced by hope. Being pressed upon this subject, and asked if he really was of opinion, that though, in general, happiness was very rare in human life, a man was not sometimes happy in the moment that was present, he answered, ‘Never, but when he is drunk.’

He urged General Oglethorpe to give the world his Life. He said, ‘I know no man whose Life would be more interesting. If I were furnished with materials, I should be very glad to write it.’^b

Mr. Scott of Amwell’s Elegies were lying in the room. Dr. Johnson observed, ‘They are very well; but such as twenty people might write.’ Upon this I took occasion to controvert Horace’s maxim,

‘—mediocribus esse poetis

Non Di, non homines, non concess&re columnce.’⁴⁶⁷

For here, (I observed,) was a very middle-rate poet, who pleased many readers, and therefore poetry of a middle sort was entitled to some esteem; nor could I see why poetry should not, like every thing else, have different gradations of excellence, and consequently of value. Johnson repeated the common remark, that, ‘as there is no necessity for our having poetry at all, it being merely a luxury, an instrument of pleasure, it can have no value, unless when exquisite in its kind.’⁴⁶⁸I declared myself not satisfied. ‘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 gentleman⁴⁶⁹ told him he had bought a suit of laces 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 domestick satisfaction. A man is pleased that his wife is drest as well as other people; and a wife is pleased that she is drest.’

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 for his learning and piety;^a his only chance for promotion is his being connected with somebody who has parliamentary interest. Our several ministries 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 book-minister, – 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 impolitick measure. There is no reason why a Judge should hold his office for life, more than any other person in publick 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 age. 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 gratia of the Crown. Lord Bute advised the King to give up a very large sum of money,^a for which nobody thanked him. It was of consequence to the King, but nothing to the publick, 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 shewed 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.⁴⁷⁰ He had ∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗⁴⁷¹ and ∗∗∗∗⁴⁷² 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 England.’

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, as in Sir Robert Walpole’s time.’ BOSWELL. ‘What then, Sir, is the use of Parliament?’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, Parliament is a larger 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, that 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, 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 University College, Oxford, accompanied us home from church; and after he was gone, there came two other gentlemen,⁴⁷³ 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 who was less disposed to be querulous than JOHNSON. Whether the subject was his own situation, or the state of the publick, 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.

We went again to St. Clement’s in the afternoon. He had found fault with the preacher in the morning⁴⁷⁴ for not choosing a text adapted to the day. The preacher in the afternoon⁴⁷⁵ 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 undisturbed 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 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.⁴⁷⁶ 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,⁴⁷⁷ 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.’^a 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;⁴⁷⁸ in reviewing his life, and resolving on better conduct.’ The humility and piety which he discovers on such occasions, is truely 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 acquaintance⁴⁷⁹ on this subject, ‘sir, Hell is paved with good intentions.’^a

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,⁴⁸⁰ 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 – judgement, to estimate things at their true value.’ I still insisted that admiration was more pleasing than judgement, 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; judgement and friendship like being enlivened. Waller has hit upon the same thought with you:^b 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.’

‘To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I have enquired more minutely about the medicine for the rheumatism, which 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 electuary⁴⁸² with honey or treacle; and take a bolus⁴⁸³ 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?⁴⁸⁴ 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,

‘April 17, 1775.’ ’sAM. JOHNSON.’

On Tuesday, April 18, he 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 every thing seemed to please him as we drove along.

Our conversation turned on a variety of subjects. He thought portrait-painting an improper employment for a woman. ‘Publick practice of any art, (he observed,) and staring in men’s faces, is very indelicate in a female.’ I happened to start a question of propriety, 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,⁴⁸⁵ 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 his 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 Critick, as if he 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 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 there 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 in 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 linendraper and sempster, and was only an authour; and added, ‘that he was agreat 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: but, in the second place, whether he thinks so or not, he certainly thinks those whom he flatters of consequence enough to be flattered.’

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. Sir Joshua observed, (aside,) ‘He runs to the books, as I do to the pictures: but I have the advantage. I 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 enquire 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 at 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 authentick 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 almanack, 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!^a

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 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 superiour efficacy.

The Beggar’s Opera,⁴⁸⁶ 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 Beggar’s 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.’^b Then collecting himself as it were, to give a heavy stroke: ‘There is in it such a labefactation⁴⁸⁸ 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 Beggar’s 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 judgement to resist so imposing an aggregate: yet, I own, I should be very sorry to have The Beggar’s 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 Thomson, in his Seasons, justly characterises him,⁴⁸⁹ told me, that when Gay first shewed him The Beggar’s 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 authour or his friends. Mr. Cambridge, however, shewed 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!’

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 ridiculous image,

‘For on the rope that hangs my Dear,

Depends poor Polly’s life.’

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’s marriage with an eminent singer,⁴⁹⁰ and his determination that she should no longer sing in publick, 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 truely 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 publickly for hire? No, Sir, there can be no doubt here. I know not if I should not prepare myself for a publick singer, as readily as let my wife be one.’

Johnson arraigned the modern politicks of this country, as entirely devoid of all principle of whatever kind. ‘Politicks (said he,) are now nothing more than means of rising in the world. With this sole view do men engage in politicks, 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 men. There is in Hudibras⁴⁹¹ 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 with them; and above all, to his satire being directed against those whom a little while before they had hated and feared. The nation in general has ever been loyal, has been at all times attached to the monarch, though a few daring rebels have been wonderfully powerful for a time. The murder of Charles the First was undoubtedly not committed with the approbation or consent of the people. Had that been the case, Parliament would not have ventured to consign the regicides to their deserved punishment. And we know what exuberance of joy there was when Charles the Second was restored. If Charles the Second had bent all his mind to it, had made it his sole object, he might have been as absolute as Louis the Fourteenth.’ A gentleman⁴⁹² observed he would have done no harm if he had. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, absolute princes seldom do any harm. But they who are governed by them are governed by chance. There is no security for good government.’ Cambridge. ‘There have been many sad victims to absolute power.’ JOHNSON. ‘so, Sir, have there been to popular factions.’ BOSWELL. ‘The question is, which is worst, one wild beast or many?’

Johnson praised The Spectator, particularly the character of Sir Roger de Coverley.⁴⁹³ He said, ‘sir Roger did not die a violent death, as has been generally fancied. He was not killed; he died only because others were to die, and because his death afforded an opportunity to Addison for some very fine writing. We have the example of Cervantes making Don Quixote die. – I never could see why Sir Roger is represented as a little cracked. It appears to me that the story of the widow was intended to have something superinduced upon it: but the superstructure did not come.’

Somebody⁴⁹⁴ found fault with writing verses in a dead language, maintaining that they were merely arrangements of so many words, and laughed at the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, for sending forth collections of them not only in Greek and Latin, but even in Syriac, Arabick, and other more unknown tongues. JOHNSON. ‘I would have as many of these as possible; I would have verses in every language that there are the means of acquiring. Nobody imagines that an University is to have at once two hundred poets; but it should be able to show two hundred scholars. Pieresc’s death was lamented, I think, in forty languages. And I would have at every coronation, and every death of a King, every Gaudium, and every Luctus,⁴⁹⁵ University verses, in as many languages as can be acquired. I would have the world to be thus told, ”Here is a school where every thing may be learnt.”’

Having set out next day on a visit to the Earl of Pembroke, at Wilton, and to my friend, Mr. Temple,^a at Mamhead, in Devonshire, and not having returned to town till the second of May, I did not see Dr. Johnson for a considerable time, and during the remaining part of my stay in London, kept very imperfect notes of his conversation, which had I according to my usual custom written out at large soon after the time, much might have been preserved, which is now irretrievably lost. I can now only record some particular scenes, and a few fragments of his memorabilia. But to make some amends for my relaxation of diligence in one respect, I have to present my readers with arguments upon two law cases, with which he favoured me.

On Saturday, the sixth of May, we dined by ourselves at the Mitre, and he dictated to me what follows, to obviate the complaint already mentioned,^b which had been made in the form of an action in the Court of Session, by Dr. Memis, of Aberdeen, that in the same translation of a charter in which physicians were mentioned, he was called Doctor of Medicine.

‘There are but two reasons for which a physician can decline the title of Doctor of Medicine, because he supposes himself disgraced by the doctorship, or supposes the doctorship disgraced by himself. To be disgraced by a title which he shares in common with every illustrious name of his profession, with Boerhaave, with Arbuthnot, and with Cullen, can surely diminish no man’s reputation. It is, I suppose, to the doctorate, from which he shrinks, that he owes his right of practising physick. A Doctor of Medicine is a physician under the protection of the laws, and by the stamp of authority. The physician, who is not a Doctor, usurps a profession, and is authorised only by himself to decide upon health and sickness, and life and death. That this gentleman is a Doctor, his diploma makes evident; a diploma not obtruded upon him, but obtained by solicitation, and for which fees were paid. With what countenance any man can refuse the title which he has either begged or bought, is not easily discovered.

‘All verbal injury must comprise in it either some false position, or some unnecessary declaration of defamatory truth. That in calling him Doctor, a false appellation was given him, he himself will not pretend, who at the same time that he complains of the title, would be offended if we supposed him to be not a Doctor. If the title of Doctor be a defamatory truth, it is time to dissolve our colleges; for why should the publick give salaries to men whose approbation is reproach? It may likewise deserve the notice of the publick to consider what help can be given to the professors of physick, who all share with this unhappy gentleman the ignominious appellation, and of whom the very boys in the street are not afraid to say, There goes the Doctor.

‘What is implied by the term Doctor is well known. It distinguishes him to whom it is granted, as a man who has attained such knowledge of his profession as qualifies him to instruct others. A Doctor of Laws is a man who can form lawyers by his precepts. A Doctor of Medicine is a man who can teach the art of curing diseases. There is an old axiom which no man has yet thought fit to deny, Nil dat quod non habet.⁴⁹⁶ Upon this principle to be Doctor implies skill, for nemo docet quod non didicit.⁴⁹⁷ In England, whoever practises physick, not being a Doctor, must practise by a licence: but the doctorate conveys a licence in itself.

‘By what accident it happened that he and the other physicians were mentioned in different terms, where the terms themselves were equivalent, or where in effect that which was applied to him was the more honourable, perhaps they who wrote the paper cannot now remember. Had they expected a lawsuit to have been the consequence of such petty variation, I hope they would have avoided it.^a But, probably, as they meant no ill, they suspected no danger, and, therefore, consulted only what appeared to them propriety or convenience.’

A few days afterwards I consulted him upon a cause, Paterson and others against Alexander and others, which had been decided by a casting vote in the Court of Session, determining that the Corporation of Stirling was corrupt, and setting aside the election of some of their officers, because it was proved that three of the leading men who influenced the majority had entered into an unjustifiable compact, of which, however, the majority were ignorant. He dictated to me, after a little consideration, the following sentences upon the subject:-

‘There is a difference between majority and superiority; majority is applied to number, and superiority to power; and power, like many other things, is to be estimated non numero sed pondere.⁴⁹⁸ Now though the greater number is not corrupt, the greater weight is corrupt, so that corruption predominates in the borough, taken collectively, though, perhaps, taken numerically, the greater part may be uncorrupt. That borough, which is so constituted as to act corruptly, is in the eye of reason corrupt, whether it be by the uncontrolable power of a few, or by an accidental pravity of the multitude. The objection, in which is urged the injustice of making the innocent suffer with the guilty, is an objection not only against society, but against the possibility of society. All societies, great and small, subsist upon this condition; that as the individuals derive advantages from union, they may likewise suffer inconveniences; that as those who do nothing, and sometimes those who do ill, will have the honours and emoluments of general virtue and general prosperity, so those likewise who do nothing, or perhaps do well, must be involved in the consequences of predominant corruption.’

This in my opinion was a very nice case; but the decision was affirmed in the House of Lords.

On Monday, May 8, we went together and visited the mansions of Bedlam.⁴⁹⁹ I had been informed that he had once been there before with Mr. Wedderburne, (now Lord Loughborough,) Mr. Murphy, and Mr. Foote; and I had heard Foote give a very entertaining account of Johnson’s happening to have his attention arrested by a man who was very furious, and who, while beating his straw, supposed it to be William Duke of Cumberland, whom he was punishing for his cruelties in Scotland, in 1746.^a There was nothing peculiarly remarkable this day; but the general contemplation of insanity was very affecting. I accompanied him home, and dined and drank tea with him.

Talking of an acquaintance of ours,⁵⁰⁰ distinguished for knowing an uncommon variety of miscellaneous articles both in antiquities and polite literature, he observed, ‘You know, Sir, he runs about with little weight upon his mind.’ And talking of another very ingenious gentleman,⁵⁰¹ who from the warmth of his temper was at variance with many of his acquaintance, and wished to avoid them, he said, ‘sir, he leads the life of an outlaw.’

On Friday, May 12, as he had been so good as to assign me a room in his house, where I might sleep occasionally, when I happened to sit with him to a late hour, I took possession of it this night, found every thing in excellent order, and was attended by honest Francis with a most civil assiduity. I asked Johnson whether I might go to a consultation with another lawyer upon Sunday, as that appeared to me to be doing work as much in my way, as if an artisan should work on the day appropriated for religious rest. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, when you are of consequence enough to oppose the practice of consulting upon Sunday, you should do it: but you may go now. It is not criminal, though it is not what one should do, who is anxious for the preservation and increase of piety, to which a peculiar observance of Sunday is a great help. The distinction is clear between what is of moral and what is of ritual obligation.’

On Saturday, May 13, I breakfasted with him by invitation, accompanied by Mr. Andrew Crosbie, a Scotch Advocate, whom he had seen at Edinburgh, and the Hon. Colonel (now General) Edward Stopford, brother to Lord Courtown, who was desirous of being introduced to him. His tea and rolls and butter, and whole breakfast apparatus were all in such decorum, and his behaviour was so courteous, that Colonel Stopford was quite surprized, and wondered at his having heard so much said of Johnson’s slovenliness and roughness. I have preserved nothing of what passed, except that Crosbie pleased him much by talking learnedly of alchymy, as to which Johnson was not a positive unbeliever, but rather delighted in considering what progress had actually been made in the transmutation of metals, what near approaches there had been to the making of gold; and told us that it was affirmed, that a person in the Russian dominions had discovered the secret, but died without revealing it, as imagining it would be prejudicial to society. He added, that it was not impossible but it might in time be generally known.

It being asked whether it was reasonable for a man to be angry at another whom a woman had preferred to him; – JOHNSON. ‘I do not see, Sir, that it is reasonable for a man to be angry at another, whom a woman has preferred to him: but angry he is, no doubt; and he is loath to be angry at himself.’

Before setting out for Scotland on the 23 rd, I was frequently in his company at different places, but during this period have recorded only two remarks: one concerning Garrick: ‘He has not Latin enough. He finds out the Latin by the meaning, rather than the meaning by the Latin.’ And another concerning writers of travels, who, he observed, ‘were more defective than any other writers.’

I passed many hours with him on the 17th, of which I find all my memorial is, ‘much laughing.’ It should seem he had that day been in a humour for jocularity and merriment, and upon such occasions I never knew a man laugh more heartily. We may suppose, that the high relish of a state so different from his habitual gloom, produced more than ordinary exertions of that distinguishing faculty of man, which has puzzled philosophers so much to explain. Johnson’s laugh was as remarkable as any circumstance in his manner. It was a kind of good humoured growl. Tom Davies described it drolly enough: ‘He laughs like a rhinoceros.’

‘To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I have an old amanuensis⁵⁰² in great distress. I have given what I think I can give, and begged till I cannot tell where to beg again. I put into his hands this morning four guineas. If you could collect three guineas more, it would clear him from his present difficulty. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

‘May 21, 1775.’ ’sAM. JOHNSON.”

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I make no doubt but you are now safely lodged in your own habitation, and have told all your adventures to Mrs. Boswell and Miss Veronica. Pray teach Veronica to love me. Bid her not mind mamma.

‘Mrs. Thrale has taken cold, and been very much disordered, but I hope is grown well. Mr. Langton went yesterday to Lincolnshire, and has invited Nicolaida^a to follow him. Beauclerk talks of going to Bath. I am to set out on Monday; so there is nothing but dispersion.

‘I have returned Lord Hailes’s entertaining sheets, but must stay till I come back for more, because it will be inconvenient to send them after me in my vagrant state.

‘I promised Mrs. Macaulay^b that I would try to serve her son at Oxford. I have not forgotten it, nor am unwilling to perform it. If they desire to give him an English education, it should be considered whether they cannot send him for a year or two to an English school. If he comes immediately from Scotland, he can make no figure in our Universities. The schools in the north, I believe, are cheap; and, when I was a young man, were eminently good.

‘There are two little books published by the Foulis, Telemachus and Collins’s Poems, each a shilling: I would be glad to have them.

‘Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, though she does not love me. You see what perverse things ladies are, and how little fit to be trusted with feudal estates. When she mends and loves me, there may be more hope of her daughters.

‘I will not send compliments to my friends by name, because I would be loath to leave any out in the enumeration. Tell them, as you see them, how well I speak of Scotch politeness, and Scotch hospitality, and Scotch beauty, and of every thing Scotch, but Scotch oat-cakes, and Scotch prejudices.

Let me know the answer of Rasay, and the decision relating to Sir Allan.^a I am, my dearest Sir, with great affection, your most obliged, and most humble servant,

‘May 27, 1775.’ ’sAM. JOHNSON.”

After my return to Scotland, I wrote three letters to him, from which I extract the following passages: –

‘I have seen Lord Hailes since I came down. He thinks it wonderful that you are pleased to take so much pains in revising his Annals. I told him that you said you were well rewarded by the entertainment which you had in reading them.’

‘There has been a numerous flight of Hebrideans in Edinburgh this summer, whom I have been happy to entertain at my house. Mr. Donald Macqueen and Lord Monboddo supped with me one evening. They joined in controverting your proposition, that the Gaelick of the Highlands and Isles of Scotland was not written till of late.’

‘My mind has been somewhat dark this summer. I have need of your warming and vivifying rays; and I hope I shall have them frequently. I am going to pass some time with my father at Auchinleck.’

‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I am now returned from the annual ramble into the middle counties. Having seen nothing I had not seen before, I have nothing to relate. Time has left that part of the island few antiquities; and commerce has left the people no singularities. I was glad to go abroad, and, perhaps, glad to come home; which is, in other words, I was, I am afraid, weary of being at home, and weary of being abroad. Is not this the state of life? But, if we confess this weariness, let us not lament it, for all the wise and all the good say, that we may cure it.

‘For the black fumes which rise in your mind, I can prescribe nothing but that you disperse them by honest business or innocent pleasure, and by reading, sometimes easy and sometimes serious. Change of place is useful; and I hope that your residence at Auchinleck will have many good effects….

‘That I should have given pain to Rasay, I am sincerely sorry; and am therefore very much pleased that he is no longer uneasy. He still thinks that I have represented him as personally giving up the Chieftainship. I meant only that it was no longer contested between the two houses, and supposed it settled, perhaps, by the cession of some remote generation, in the house of Dunvegan. I am sorry the advertisement was not continued for three or four times in the paper.

‘That Lord Monboddo and Mr. Macqueen should controvert a position contrary to the imaginary interest of literary or national prejudice, might be easily imagined; but of a standing fact there ought to be no controversy: If there are men with tails, catch an homo caudatus;⁵⁰³ if there was writing of old in the Highlands or Hebrides, in the Erse language, produce the manuscripts. Where men write, they will write to one another, and some of their letters, in families studious of their ancestry, will be kept. In Wales there are many manuscripts.

‘I have now three parcels of Lord Hailes’s history, which I purpose to return all the next week: that his respect for my little observations should keep his work in suspense, makes one of the evils of my journey. It is in our language, I think, a new mode of history, which tells all that is wanted, and, I suppose, all that is known, without laboured splendour of language, or affected subtilty of conjecture. The exactness of his dates raises my wonder. He seems to have the closeness of Henault without his constraint.

Mrs. Thrale was so entertained with your Journal,^a that she almost read herself blind. She has a great regard for you.

‘Of Mrs. Boswell, though she knows in her heart that she does not love me, I am always glad to hear any good, and hope that she and the little dear ladies will have neither sickness nor any other affliction. But she knows that she does not care what becomes of me, and for that she may be sure that I think her very much to blame.

‘Never, my dear Sir, do you take it into your head to think that I do not love you; you may settle yourself in full confidence both of my love and my esteem; I love you as a kind man, I value you as a worthy man, and hope in time to reverence you as a man of exemplary piety. I hold you, as Hamlet has it, ”in my heart of hearts,”⁵⁰⁴ and therefore, it is little to say, that I am, Sir, your affectionate humble servant,

‘London, Aug. 27, 1775.’ ’sAM. JOHNSON.”

To THE SAME

’sIR, – If in these papers^a there is little alteration attempted, do not suppose me negligent. I have read them perhaps more closely than the rest; but I find nothing worthy of an objection.

‘Write to me soon, and write often, and tell me all your honest heart. I am, Sir, yours affectionately,

‘Aug. 30, 1775.’ ’sAM. JOHNSON.”

To THE SAME

‘MY DEAR SIR, – I now write to you, lest in some of your freaks and humours you should fancy yourself neglected. Such fancies I must entreat you never to admit, at least never to indulge: for my regard for you is so radicated and fixed, that it is become part of my mind, and cannot be effaced but by some cause uncommonly violent; therefore, whether I write or not, set your thoughts at rest. I now write to tell you that I shall not very soon write again, for I am to set out to-morrow on another journey….

Your friends are all well at Streatham, and in Leicester-fields.^b Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, if she is in good humour with me. I am, Sir, &c.

‘September 14, 1775.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

What he mentions in such light terms as, ‘I am to set out to-morrow on another journey,’ I soon afterwards discovered was no less than a tour to France with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. This was the only time in his life that he went upon the Continent.

‘To MR. ROBERT LEVET

‘DEAR SIR, ‘sept. 18, 1775. Calais.

‘We are here in France, after a very pleasing passage of no more than six hours. I know not when I shall write again, and therefore I write now, though you cannot suppose that I have much to say. You have seen France yourself. From this place we are going to Rouen, and from Rouen to Paris, where Mr. Thrale designs to stay about five or six weeks. We have a regular recommendation to the English resident, so we shall not be taken for vagabonds. We think to go one way and return another, and see as much as we can. I will try to speak a little French; I tried hitherto but little, but I spoke sometimes. If I heard better, I suppose I should learn faster. I am, Sir, your humble servant,

‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

To THE SAME

‘DEAR SIR, ‘Paris, Oct. 22, 1775.

‘We are still here, commonly very busy in looking about us. We have been to-day at Versailles. You have seen it, and I shall not describe it. We came yesterday from Fontainbleau, where the Court is now. We went to see the King and Queen⁵⁰⁵ at dinner, and the Queen was so impressed by Miss,^a that she sent one of the Gentlemen to enquire who she was. I find all true that you have ever told me of Paris. Mr. Thrale is very liberal, and keeps us two coaches, and a very fine table; but I think our cookery very bad. Mrs. Thrale got into a convent of English nuns, and I talked with her through the grate, and I am very kindly used by the English Benedictine friars. But upon the whole I cannot make much acquaintance here; and though the churches, palaces, and some private houses are very magnificent, there is no very great pleasure after having seen many, in seeing more; at least the pleasure, whatever it be, must some time have an end, and we are beginning to think when we shall come home. Mr. Thrale calculates that, as we left Streatham on the fifteenth of September, we shall see it again about the fifteenth of November.

‘I think I had not been on this side of the sea five days before I found a sensible improvement in my health. I ran a race in the rain this day, and beat Baretti. Baretti is a fine fellow, and speaks French, I think, quite as well as English.

‘Make my compliments to Mrs. Williams; and give my love to Francis; and tell my friends that I am not lost. I am, dear Sir, your affectionate humble, &c.

’sAM. JOHNSON.’

‘To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON

‘MY DEAR SIR, ‘Edinburgh, Oct. 24, 1775.

‘If I had not been informed that you were at Paris, you should have had a letter from me by the earliest opportunity, announcing the birth of my son, on the 9th instant; I have named him Alexander, after my father. I now write, as I suppose your fellow traveller, Mr. Thrale, will return to London this week, to attend his duty in Parliament, and that you will not stay behind him.

‘I send another parcel of Lord Hailes’s Annals. I have undertaken to solicit you for a favour to him, which he thus requests in a letter to me: ”I intend soon to give you The Life of Robert Bruce, which you will be pleased to transmit to Dr. JOHNSON. I wish that you could assist me in a fancy which I have taken, of getting Dr. Johnson to draw a character of Robert Bruce, from the account that I give of that prince. If he finds materials for it in my work, it will be a proof that I have been fortunate in selecting the most striking incidents.”

‘I suppose by The Life of Robert Bruce, his Lordship means that part of his Annals which relates the history of that prince, and not a separate work.

‘Shall we have A Journey to Paris from you in the winter? You will, I hope, at any rate be kind enough to give me some account of your French travels very soon, for I am very impatient. What a different scene have you viewed this autumn, from that which you viewed in autumn 1773! I ever am, my dear Sir, your much obliged and affectionate humble servant,

‘JAMES BOSWELL.’

To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

‘DEAR SIR, – I am glad that the young Laird is born, and an end, as I hope, put to the only difference that you can ever have with Mrs. BOSWELL.^a I know that she does not love me; but I intend to persist in wishing her well till I get the better of her.

‘Paris is, indeed, a place very different from the Hebrides, but it is to a hasty traveller not so fertile of novelty, nor affords so many opportunities of remark. I cannot pretend to tell the publick any thing of a place better known to many of my readers than to myself. We can talk of it when we meet.

‘I shall go next week to Streatham, from whence I purpose to send a parcel of the History every post. Concerning the character of Bruce, I can only say, that I do not see any great reason for writing it; but I shall not easily deny what Lord Hailes and you concur in desiring.

‘I have been remarkably healthy all the journey, and hope you and your family have known only that trouble and danger which has so happily terminated. Among all the congratulations that you may receive, I hope you believe none more warm or sincere, than those of, dear Sir, your most affectionate,

‘November 16, 1775.’ ’sAM. JOHNSON.’

‘To MRS. LUCY PORTER, in Lichfield^b

‘DEAR MADAM, – This week I came home from Paris. I have brought you a little box, which I thought pretty; but I know not whether it is properly a snuff-box, or a box for some other use. I will send it, when I can find an opportunity. I have been through the whole journey remarkably well. My fellow-travellers were the same whom you saw at Lichfield, only we took Baretti with us. Paris is not so fine a place as you would expect. The palaces and churches, however, are very splendid and magnificent; and what would please you, there are many very fine pictures; but I do not think their way of life commodious or pleasant.