course. Let a man give application; and depend upon it he will soon get
above a despicable state of helplessness, and attain the power of acting
for himself.'
On Saturday, April 7, I dined with him at Mr. Hoole's with Governour
Bouchier and Captain Orme, both of whom had been long in the
East-Indies; and being men of good sense and observation, were very
entertaining. Johnson defended the oriental regulation of different
_casts_ of men, which was objected to as totally destructive of the
hopes of rising in society by personal merit. He shewed that there was a
_principle_ in it sufficiently plausible by analogy. 'We see (said he)
in metals that there are different species; and so likewise in animals,
though one species may not differ very widely from another, as in the
species of dogs,--the cur, the spaniel, the mastiff. The Bramins are the
mastiffs of mankind.'
On Thursday, April 12, I dined with him at a Bishop's, where were Sir
Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Berrenger, and some more company. He had dined the
day before at another Bishop's. I have unfortunately recorded none of
his conversation at the Bishop's where we dined together[288]: but I
have preserved his ingenious defence of his dining twice abroad in
Passion-week[289]; a laxity, in which I am convinced he would not have
indulged himself at the time when he wrote his solemn paper in _The
Rambler_[290], upon that aweful season. It appeared to me, that by
being much more in company, and enjoying more luxurious living, he had
contracted a keener relish of pleasure, and was consequently less
rigorous in his religious rites. This he would not acknowledge; but he
reasoned with admirable sophistry, as follows: 'Why, Sir, a Bishop's
calling company together in this week is, to use the vulgar phrase, not
_the thing_. But you must consider laxity is a bad thing; but
preciseness is also a bad thing; and your general character may be more
hurt by preciseness than by dining with a Bishop in Passion-week. There
might be a handle for reflection. It might be said, 'He refused to dine
with a Bishop in Passion-week, but was three Sundays absent from
Church.' BOSWELL. 'Very true, Sir. But suppose a man to be uniformly of
good conduct, would it not be better that he should refuse to dine with
a Bishop in this week, and so not encourage a bad practice by his
example?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you are to consider whether you might not
do more harm by lessening the influence of a Bishop's character by your
disapprobation in refusing him, than by going to him.'
TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
'DEAR MADAM,
'Life is full of troubles. I have just lost my dear friend Thrale. I
hope he is happy; but I have had a great loss. I am otherwise pretty
well. I require some care of myself, but that care is not ineffectual;
and when I am out of order, I think it often my own fault.
'The spring is now making quick advances. As it is the season in which
the whole world is enlivened and invigorated, I hope that both you and I
shall partake of its benefits. My desire is to see Lichfield; but being
left executor to my friend, I know not whether I can be spared; but I
will try, for it is now long since we saw one another, and how little we
can promise ourselves many more interviews, we are taught by hourly
examples of mortality. Let us try to live so as that mortality may not
be an evil. Write to me soon, my dearest; your letters will give me
great pleasure.
'I am sorry that Mr. Porter has not had his box; but by sending it to
Mr. Mathias, who very readily undertook its conveyance, I did the best I
could, and perhaps before now he has it.
'Be so kind as to make my compliments to my friends; I have a great
value for their kindness, and hope to enjoy it before summer is past. Do
write to me. I am, dearest love,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, April 12, 1781.'
On Friday, April 13, being Good-Friday, I went to St. Clement's church
with him as usual. There I saw again his old fellow-collegian,
Edwards[291], to whom I said, 'I think, Sir, Dr. Johnson and you meet
only at Church.'--'Sir, (said he,) it is the best place we can meet in,
except Heaven, and I hope we shall meet there too.' Dr. Johnson told me,
that there was very little communication between Edwards and him, after
their unexpected renewal of acquaintance. 'But (said he, smiling) he met
me once, and said, "I am told you have written a very pretty book called
_The Rambler_." I was unwilling that he should leave the world in total
darkness, and sent him a set.'
Mr. Berrenger[292] visited him to-day, and was very pleasing. We talked
of an evening society for conversation at a house in town, of which we
were all members, but of which Johnson said, 'It will never do, Sir.
There is nothing served about there, neither tea, nor coffee, nor
lemonade, nor any thing whatever; and depend upon it, Sir, a man does
not love to go to a place from whence he comes out exactly as he went
in.' I endeavoured, for argument's sake, to maintain that men of
learning and talents might have very good intellectual society, without
the aid of any little gratifications of the senses. Berrenger joined
with Johnson, and said, that without these any meeting would be dull and
insipid. He would therefore have all the slight refreshments; nay, it
would not be amiss to have some cold meat, and a bottle of wine upon a
side-board. 'Sir, (said Johnson to me, with an air of triumph,) Mr.
Berrenger knows the world. Every body loves to have good things
furnished to them without any trouble. I told Mrs. Thrale once, that as
she did not choose to have card tables, she should have a profusion of
the best sweetmeats, and she would be sure to have company enough come
to her[293].' I agreed with my illustrious friend upon this subject;
for it has pleased GOD to make man a composite animal, and where there
is nothing to refresh the body, the mind will languish.
On Sunday, April 15, being Easter-day, after solemn worship in St.
Paul's church, I found him alone; Dr. Scott of the Commons came in. He
talked of its having been said that Addison wrote some of his best
papers in _The Spectator_ when warm with wine[294]. Dr. Johnson did not
seem willing to admit this. Dr. Scott, as a confirmation of it, related,
that Blackstone, a sober man, composed his _Commentaries_ with a bottle
of port before him; and found his mind invigorated and supported in the
fatigue of his great work, by a temperate use of it[295].
I told him, that in a company where I had lately been, a desire was
expressed to know his authority for the shocking story of Addison's
sending an execution into Steele's house[296]. 'Sir, (said he,) it is
generally known, it is known to all who are acquainted with the literary
history of that period. It is as well known, as that he wrote _Cato_.'
Mr. Thomas Sheridan once defended Addison to me, by alledging that he
did it in order to cover Steele's goods from other creditors, who were
going to seize them.
We talked of the difference between the mode of education at Oxford,
and that in those Colleges where instruction is chiefly conveyed by
lectures[297]. JOHNSON. 'Lectures were once useful; but now, when all
can read, and books are so numerous, lectures are unnecessary. If your
attention fails, and you miss a part of a lecture, it is lost; you
cannot go back as you do upon a book.' Dr. Scott agreed with him. 'But
yet (said I), Dr. Scott, you yourself gave lectures at Oxford[298].' He
smiled. 'You laughed (then said I) at those who came to you.'
Dr. Scott left us, and soon afterwards we went to dinner. Our company
consisted of Mrs. Williams, Mrs. Desmoulins, Mr. Levett, Mr. Allen, the
printer, and Mrs. Hall[299], sister of the Reverend Mr. John Wesley, and
resembling him, as I thought, both in figure and manner. Johnson
produced now, for the first time, some handsome silver salvers, which he
told me he had bought fourteen years ago; so it was a great day. I was
not a little amused by observing Allen perpetually struggling to talk in
the manner of Johnson, like the little frog in the fable blowing himself
up to resemble the stately ox[300].
I mentioned a kind of religious Robinhood Society[301], which met every
Sunday evening, at Coachmakers'-hall, for free debate; and that the
subject for this night was, the text which relates, with other miracles,
which happened at our SAVIOUR'S death, 'And the graves were opened, and
many bodies of the saints which slept arose, and came out of the graves
after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto
many[302].' Mrs. Hall said it was a very curious subject, and she should
like to hear it discussed. JOHNSON, (somewhat warmly) 'One would not go
to such a place to hear it,--one would not be seen in such a place--to
give countenance to such a meeting.' I, however, resolved that I would
go. 'But, Sir, (said she to Johnson,) I should like to hear _you_
discuss it.' He seemed reluctant to engage in it. She talked of the
resurrection of the human race in general, and maintained that we shall
be raised with the same bodies. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Madam, we see that it is
not to be the same body; for the Scripture uses the illustration of
grain sown, and we know that the grain which grows is not the same with
what is sown[303]. You cannot suppose that we shall rise with a diseased
body; it is enough if there be such a sameness as to distinguish
identity of person.' She seemed desirous of knowing more, but he left
the question in obscurity.
Of apparitions[304], he observed, 'A total disbelief of them is adverse
to the opinion of the existence of the soul between death and the last
day; the question simply is, whether departed spirits ever have the
power of making themselves perceptible to us; a man who thinks he has
seen an apparition, can only be convinced himself; his authority will
not convince another, and his conviction, if rational, must be founded
on being told something which cannot be known but by supernatural means.'
He mentioned a thing as not unfrequent, of which I had never heard
before,--being _called_, that is, hearing one's name pronounced by the
voice of a known person at a great distance, far beyond the possibility
of being reached by any sound uttered by human organs. 'An acquaintance,
on whose veracity I can depend, told me, that walking home one evening
to Kilmarnock, he heard himself called from a wood, by the voice of a
brother who had gone to America; and the next packet brought accounts of
that brother's death.' Macbean[305] asserted that this inexplicable
_calling_ was a thing very well known. Dr. Johnson said, that one day at
Oxford, as he was turning the key of his chamber, he heard his mother
distinctly call Sam. She was then at Lichfield; but nothing ensued[306].
This phaenomenon is, I think, as wonderful as any other mysterious
fact, which many people are very slow to believe, or rather, indeed,
reject with an obstinate contempt.
Some time after this, upon his making a remark which escaped my
attention, Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Hall were both together striving to
answer him. He grew angry, and called out loudly, 'Nay, when you both
speak at once, it is intolerable.' But checking himself, and softening,
he said, 'This one may say, though you _are_ ladies.' Then he brightened
into gay humour, and addressed them in the words of one of the songs in
_The Beggar's Opera_[307]:--
'But two at a time there's no mortal can bear.'
'What, Sir, (said I,) are you going to turn Captain Macheath?' There was
something as pleasantly ludicrous in this scene as can be imagined. The
contrast between Macheath, Polly, and Lucy--and Dr. Samuel Johnson,
blind, peevish Mrs. Williams, and lean, lank, preaching Mrs. Hall, was
exquisite.
I stole away to Coachmakers'-hall, and heard the difficult text of which
we had talked, discussed with great decency, and some intelligence, by
several speakers. There was a difference of opinion as to the appearance
of ghosts in modern times, though the arguments for it, supported by Mr.
Addison's authority[308], preponderated. The immediate subject of debate
was embarrassed by the _bodies_ of the saints having been said to rise,
and by the question what became of them afterwards; did they return
again to their graves? or were they translated to heaven? Only one
evangelist mentions the fact[309], and the commentators whom I have
looked at, do not make the passage clear. There is, however, no occasion
for our understanding it farther, than to know that it was one of the
extraordinary manifestations of divine power, which accompanied the most
important event that ever happened.
On Friday, April 20, I spent with him one of the happiest days that I
remember to have enjoyed in the whole course of my life. Mrs. Garrick,
whose grief for the loss of her husband was, I believe, as sincere as
wounded affection and admiration could produce, had this day, for the
first time since his death, a select party of his friends to dine with
her[310]. The company was Miss Hannah More, who lived with her, and whom
she called her Chaplain[311]; Mrs. Boscawen[312], Mrs. Elizabeth Carter,
Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Burney, Dr. Johnson, and myself. We found
ourselves very elegantly entertained at her house in the Adelphi[313],
where I have passed many a pleasing hour with him 'who gladdened
life[314].' She looked well, talked of her husband with complacency, and
while she cast her eyes on his portrait, which hung over the
chimney-piece, said, that 'death was now the most agreeable object to
her[315].' The very semblance of David Garrick was cheering. Mr.
Beauclerk, with happy propriety, inscribed under that fine portrait of
him, which by Lady Diana's kindness is now the property of my friend Mr.
Langton, the following passage from his beloved Shakspeare:--
'A merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.
His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch,
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest;
Which his fair tongue (Conceit's expositor)
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished:
So sweet and voluble is his discourse[316].'
We were all in fine spirits; and I whispered to Mrs. Boscawen, 'I
believe this is as much as can be made of life.' In addition to a
splendid entertainment, we were regaled with Lichfield ale[317], which
had a peculiar appropriated value. Sir Joshua, and Dr. Burney, and I,
drank cordially of it to Dr. Johnson's health; and though he would not
join us, he as cordially answered, 'Gentlemen, I wish you all as well as
you do me.'
The general effect of this day dwells upon my mind in fond remembrance;
but I do not find much conversation recorded. What I have preserved
shall be faithfully given.
One of the company mentioned Mr. Thomas Hollis, the strenuous Whig, who
used to send over Europe presents of democratical books, with their
boards stamped with daggers and caps of liberty. Mrs. Carter said, 'He
was a bad man. He used to talk uncharitably.' JOHNSON. 'Poh! poh! Madam;
who is the worse for being talked of uncharitably? Besides, he was a
dull poor creature as ever lived: And I believe he would not have done
harm to a man whom he knew to be of very opposite principles to his own.
I remember once at the Society of Arts, when an advertisement was to be
drawn up, he pointed me out as the man who could do it best. This, you
will observe, was kindness to me. I however slipt away, and escaped it.'
Mrs. Carter having said of the same person, 'I doubt he was an
Atheist[318].' JOHNSON. 'I don't know that. He might perhaps have
become one, if he had had time to ripen, (smiling.) He might have
_exuberated_ into an Atheist.'
Sir Joshua Reynolds praised _Mudge's Sermons_[319]. JOHNSON. 'Mudge's
Sermons are good, but not practical. He grasps more sense than he can
hold; he takes more corn than he can make into meal; he opens a wide
prospect, but it is so distant, it is indistinct. I love _Blair's
Sermons_. Though the dog is a Scotchman, and a Presbyterian, and every
thing he should not be, I was the first to praise them[320]. Such was my
candour.' (smiling.) MRS. BOSCAWEN. 'Such his great merit to get the
better of all your prejudices.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Madam, let us compound
the matter; let us ascribe it to my candour, and his merit.'
In the evening we had a large company in the drawing-room, several
ladies, the Bishop of Killaloe, Dr. Percy, Mr. Chamberlayne[321], of the
Treasury, &c. &c. Somebody said the life of a mere literary man could
not be very entertaining. JOHNSON. 'But it certainly may. This is a
remark which has been made, and repeated, without justice; why should
the life of a literary man be less entertaining than the life of any
other man? Are there not as interesting varieties in such a life[322]?
As _a literary life_ it may be very entertaining.' BOSWELL. 'But it must
be better surely, when it is diversified with a little active variety--
such as his having gone to Jamaica; or--his having gone to the
Hebrides.' Johnson was not displeased at this.
Talking of a very respectable authour, he told us a curious circumstance
in his life, which was, that he had married a printer's devil. REYNOLDS.
'A printer's devil, Sir! Why, I thought a printer's devil was a creature
with a black face and in rags.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir. But I suppose, he
had her face washed, and put clean clothes on her. (Then looking very
serious, and very earnest.) And she did not disgrace him; the woman had
a bottom of good sense. The word _bottom_ thus introduced, was so
ludicrous when contrasted with his gravity, that most of us could not
forbear tittering and laughing; though I recollect that the Bishop of
Killaloe kept his countenance with perfect steadiness, while Miss Hannah
More slyly hid her face behind a lady's back who sat on the same settee
with her. His pride could not bear that any expression of his should
excite ridicule, when he did not intend it; he therefore resolved to
assume and exercise despotick power, glanced sternly around, and called
out in a strong tone, 'Where's the merriment?' Then collecting himself,
and looking aweful, to make us feel how he could impose restraint, and
as it were searching his mind for a still more ludicrous word, he slowly
pronounced, 'I say the _woman_ was _fundamentally_ sensible;' as if he
had said, hear this now, and laugh if you dare. We all sat composed as
at a funeral[323].
He and I walked away together; we stopped a little while by the rails of
the Adelphi, looking on the Thames, and I said to him with some emotion
that I was now thinking of two friends we had lost, who once lived in
the buildings behind us, Beauclerk and Garrick. 'Ay, Sir, (said he,
tenderly) and two such friends as cannot be supplied[324].'
For some time after this day I did not see him very often, and of the
conversation which I did enjoy, I am sorry to find I have preserved but
little. I was at this time engaged in a variety of other matters, which
required exertion and assiduity, and necessarily occupied almost all
my time.
One day having spoken very freely of those who were then in power, he
said to me, 'Between ourselves, Sir, I do not like to give opposition
the satisfaction of knowing how much I disapprove of the ministry.' And
when I mentioned that Mr. Burke had boasted how quiet the nation was in
George the Second's reign, when Whigs were in power, compared with the
present reign, when Tories governed;--'Why, Sir, (said he,) you are to
consider that Tories having more reverence for government, will not
oppose with the same violence as Whigs, who being unrestrained by that
principle, will oppose by any means.'
This month he lost not only Mr. Thrale, but another friend, Mr. William
Strahan, Junior, printer, the eldest son of his old and constant friend,
Printer to his Majesty.
'TO MRS. STRAHAN.
'DEAR MADAM,
'The grief which I feel for the loss of a very kind friend is sufficient
to make me know how much you suffer by the death of an amiable son; a
man, of whom I think it may truly be said, that no one knew him who does
not lament him. I look upon myself as having a friend, another friend,
taken from me.
'Comfort, dear Madam, I would give you if I could, but I know how little
the forms of consolation can avail. Let me, however, counsel you not to
waste your health in unprofitable sorrow, but go to Bath, and endeavour
to prolong your own life; but when we have all done all that we can, one
friend must in time lose the other.
'I am, dear Madam,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'April 23, 1781.'
On Tuesday, May 8[325], I had the pleasure of again dining with him and
Mr. Wilkes, at Mr. Billy's[326]. No _negociation_ was now required to
bring them together; for Johnson was so well satisfied with the former
interview, that he was very glad to meet Wilkes again, who was this day
seated between Dr. Beattie and Dr. Johnson; (between _Truth_[327] and
_Reason_, as General Paoli said, when I told him of it.) WILKES. 'I have
been thinking, Dr. Johnson, that there should be a bill brought into
parliament that the controverted elections for Scotland should be tried
in that country, at their own Abbey of Holy-Rood House, and not here;
for the consequence of trying them here is, that we have an inundation
of Scotchmen, who come up and never go back again. Now here is Boswell,
who is come up upon the election for his own county, which will not last
a fortnight.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, I see no reason why they should be
tried at all; for, you know, one Scotchman is as good as another.'
WILKES. 'Pray, Boswell, how much may be got in a year by an Advocate at
the Scotch bar?' BOSWELL. 'I believe two thousand pounds.' WlLKES. 'How
can it be possible to spend that money in Scotland?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir,
the money may be spent in England: but there is a harder question. If
one man in Scotland gets possession of two thousand pounds, what remains
for all the rest of the nation?' WILKES. 'You know, in the last war, the
immense booty which Thurot[328] carried off by the complete plunder of
seven Scotch isles; he re-embarked with _three and six-pence_.' Here
again Johnson and Wilkes joined in extravagant sportive raillery upon
the supposed poverty of Scotland, which Dr. Beattie and I did not think
it worth our while to dispute.
The subject of quotation being introduced, Mr. Wilkes censured it as
pedantry[329]. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, it is a good thing; there is a
community of mind in it. Classical quotation is the _parole_ of literary
men all over the world.' WlLKES. 'Upon the continent they all quote the
vulgate Bible. Shakspeare is chiefly quoted here; and we quote also
Pope, Prior, Butler, Waller, and sometimes Cowley[330].'
