We talked of Letter-writing. JOHNSON. 'It is now become so much the
fashion to publish letters, that in order to avoid it, I put as little
into mine as I can.[331]' BOSWELL. 'Do what you will, Sir, you cannot
avoid it. Should you even write as ill as you can, your letters would be
published as curiosities:
"Behold a miracle! instead of wit,
See two dull lines with Stanhope's pencil writ[332]."'
He gave us an entertaining account of _Bet Flint_[333], a woman of the
town, who, with some eccentrick talents and much effrontery, forced
herself upon his acquaintance. 'Bet (said he) wrote her own Life in
verse[334], which she brought to me, wishing that I would furnish her
with a Preface to it. (Laughing.) I used to say of her that she was
generally slut and drunkard; occasionally, whore and thief. She had,
however, genteel lodgings, a spinnet on which she played, and a boy that
walked before her chair. Poor Bet was taken up on a charge of stealing a
counterpane, and tried at the Old Bailey. Chief Justice ------[335], who
loved a wench, summed up favourably, and she was acquitted. After which
Bet said, with a gay and satisfied air, 'Now that the counterpane is _my
own_, I shall make a petticoat of it.'
Talking of oratory, Mr. Wilkes described it as accompanied with all the
charms of poetical expression. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; oratory is the power
of beating down your adversary's arguments, and putting better in their
place.' WlLKES. 'But this does not move the passions.' JOHNSON. 'He must
be a weak man, who is to be so moved.' WlLKES. (naming a celebrated
orator) 'Amidst all the brilliancy of ----'s[336] imagination, and the
exuberance of his wit, there is a strange want of _taste_. It was
observed of Apelles's Venus[337], that her flesh seemed as if she had
been nourished by roses: his oratory would sometimes make one suspect
that he eats potatoes and drinks whisky.'
Mr. Wilkes observed, how tenacious we are of forms in this country, and
gave as an instance, the vote of the House of Commons for remitting
money to pay the army in America _in Portugal pieces_[338], when, in
reality, the remittance is made not in Portugal money, but in our own
specie. JOHNSON. 'Is there not a law, Sir, against exporting the current
coin of the realm?' WlLKES. 'Yes, Sir: but might not the House of
Commons, in case of real evident necessity, order our own current coin
to be sent into our own colonies?' Here Johnson, with that quickness of
recollection which distinguished him so eminently, gave the _Middlesex
Patriot_ an admirable retort upon his own ground. 'Sure, Sir, _you_
don't think a _resolution of the House of Commons_ equal to _the law of
the land_[339].' WlLKES. (at once perceiving the application) 'GOD
forbid, Sir.' To hear what had been treated with such violence in _The
False Alarm_, now turned into pleasant repartee, was extremely
agreeable. Johnson went on;--'Locke observes well, that a prohibition
to export the current coin is impolitick; for when the balance of trade
happens to be against a state, the current coin must be exported[340].'
Mr. Beauclerk's great library[341] was this season sold in London by
auction. Mr. Wilkes said, he wondered to find in it such a numerous
collection of sermons; seeming to think it strange that a gentleman of
Mr. Beauclerk's character in the gay world should have chosen to have
many compositions of that kind. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you are to consider,
that sermons make a considerable branch of English literature[342]; so
that a library must be very imperfect if it has not a numerous
collection of sermons[343]: and in all collections, Sir, the desire of
augmenting it grows stronger in proportion to the advance in
acquisition; as motion is accelerated by the continuance of the
_impetus_. Besides, Sir, (looking at Mr. Wilkes with a placid but
significant smile) a man may collect sermons with intention of making
himself better by them. I hope Mr. Beauclerk intended, that some time or
other that should be the case with him.'
Mr. Wilkes said to me, loud enough for Dr. Johnson to hear, 'Dr. Johnson
should make me a present of his _Lives of the Poets_, as I am a poor
patriot, who cannot afford to buy them.' Johnson seemed to take no
notice of this hint; but in a little while, he called to Mr. Dilly,
'Pray, Sir, be so good as to send a set of my _Lives_ to Mr. Wilkes,
with my compliments.' This was accordingly done; and Mr. Wilkes paid Dr.
Johnson a visit, was courteously received, and sat with him a long time.
The company gradually dropped away. Mr. Dilly himself was called down
stairs upon business; I left the room for some time; when I returned, I
was struck with observing Dr. Samuel Johnson and John Wilkes, Esq.,
literally _tete-a-tete_; for they were reclined upon their chairs, with
their heads leaning almost close to each other, and talking earnestly,
in a kind of confidential whisper, of the personal quarrel between
George the Second and the King of Prussia[344]. Such a scene of
perfectly easy sociality between two such opponents in the war of
political controversy, as that which I now beheld, would have been an
excellent subject for a picture. It presented to my mind the happy days
which are foretold in Scripture, when the lion shall lie down with the
kid[345].
After this day there was another pretty long interval, during which Dr.
Johnson and I did not meet. When I mentioned it to him with regret, he
was pleased to say, 'Then, Sir, let us live double.'
About this time it was much the fashion for several ladies to have
evening assemblies, where the fair sex might participate in conversation
with literary and ingenious men, animated by a desire to please. These
societies were denominated _Blue-stocking Clubs_, the origin of which
title being little known, it may be worth while to relate it. One of the
most eminent members of those societies, when they first commenced, was
Mr. Stillingfleet[346], whose dress was remarkably grave, and in
particular it was observed, that he wore blue stockings[347]. Such was
the excellence of his conversation, that his absence was felt as so
great a loss, that it used to be said, 'We can do nothing without the
_blue stockings_;' and thus by degrees the title was established. Miss
Hannah More has admirably described a _Blue-stocking Club_, in her _Bas
Bleu_[348], a poem in which many of the persons who were most
conspicuous there are mentioned.
Johnson was prevailed with to come sometimes into these circles, and did
not think himself too grave even for the lively Miss Monckton[349] (now
Countess of Corke), who used to have the finest _bit of blue_ at the
house of her mother, Lady Galway. Her vivacity enchanted the Sage, and
they used to talk together with all imaginable ease. A singular instance
happened one evening, when she insisted that some of Sterne's writings
were very pathetick. Johnson bluntly denied it. 'I am sure (said she)
they have affected _me_.' 'Why (said Johnson, smiling, and rolling
himself about,) that is, because, dearest, you're a dunce[350].' When
she some time afterwards mentioned this to him, he said with equal truth
and politeness; 'Madam, if I had thought so, I certainly should not
have said it.'
Another evening Johnson's kind indulgence towards me had a pretty
difficult trial. I had dined at the Duke of Montrose's with a very
agreeable party, and his Grace, according to his usual custom, had
circulated the bottle very freely. Lord Graham[351] and I went together
to Miss Monckton's, where I certainly was in extraordinary spirits, and
above all fear or awe. In the midst of a great number of persons of the
first rank, amongst whom I recollect with confusion, a noble lady of the
most stately decorum, I placed myself next to Johnson, and thinking
myself now fully his match, talked to him in a loud and boisterous
manner, desirous to let the company know how I could contend with
_Ajax_. I particularly remember pressing him upon the value of the
pleasures of the imagination, and as an illustration of my argument,
asking him, 'What, Sir, supposing I were to fancy that the--(naming the
most charming Duchess in his Majesty's dominions) were in love with me,
should I not be very happy?' My friend with much address evaded my
interrogatories, and kept me as quiet as possible; but it may easily be
conceived how he must have felt[352]. However, when a few days
afterwards I waited upon him and made an apology, he behaved with the
most friendly gentleness[353].
While I remained in London this year[354], Johnson and I dined together
at several places. I recollect a placid day at Dr. Butter's[355], who
had now removed from Derby to Lower Grosvenor-street, London; but of his
conversation on that and other occasions during this period, I neglected
to keep any regular record[356], and shall therefore insert here some
miscellaneous articles which I find in my Johnsonian notes.
His disorderly habits, when 'making provision for the day that was
passing over him[357],' appear from the following anecdote, communicated
to me by Mr. John Nichols:--'In the year 1763, a young bookseller, who
was an apprentice to Mr. Whiston, waited on him with a subscription to
his _Shakspeare_: and observing that the Doctor made no entry in any
book of the subscriber's name, ventured diffidently to ask, whether he
would please to have the gentleman's address, that it might be properly
inserted in the printed list of subscribers. '_I shall print no list of
subscribers_;' said Johnson, with great abruptness: but almost
immediately recollecting himself, added, very complacently, 'Sir, I have
two very cogent reasons for not printing any list of subscribers;--one,
that I have lost all the names,--the other, that I have spent all
the money.'
Johnson could not brook appearing to be worsted in argument, even when
he had taken the wrong side, to shew the force and dexterity of his
talents. When, therefore, he perceived that his opponent gained ground,
he had recourse to some sudden mode of robust sophistry. Once when I was
pressing upon him with visible advantage, he stopped me thus:--'My dear
Boswell, let's have no more of this; you'll make nothing of it. I'd
rather have you whistle a Scotch tune.'
Care, however, must be taken to distinguish between Johnson when he
'talked for victory[358],' and Johnson when he had no desire but to
inform and illustrate. 'One of Johnson's principal talents (says an
eminent friend of his)[359] was shewn in maintaining the wrong side of
an argument, and in a splendid perversion of the truth. If you could
contrive to have his fair opinion on a subject, and without any bias
from personal prejudice, or from a wish to be victorious in argument, it
was wisdom itself, not only convincing, but overpowering.'
He had, however, all his life habituated himself to consider
conversation as a trial of intellectual vigour and skill[360]; and to
this, I think, we may venture to ascribe that unexampled richness and
brilliancy which appeared in his own. As a proof at once of his
eagerness for colloquial distinction, and his high notion of this
eminent friend, he once addressed him thus:-'----, we now have been
several hours together; and you have said but one thing for which I
envied you.'
He disliked much all speculative desponding considerations, which tended
to discourage men from diligence and exertion. He was in this like Dr.
Shaw, the great traveller[361], who Mr. Daines Barrington[362] told me,
used to say, 'I hate a _cui bono_ man.' Upon being asked by a
friend[363] what he should think of a man who was apt to say _non est
tanti_;-'That he's a stupid fellow, Sir; (answered Johnson): What would
these _tanti_ men be doing the while?' When I in a low-spirited fit, was
talking to him with indifference of the pursuits which generally engage
us in a course of action, and inquiring a _reason_ for taking so much
trouble; 'Sir (said he, in an animated tone) it is driving on the
system of life.'
He told me, that he was glad that I had, by General Oglethorpe's means,
become acquainted with Dr. Shebbeare. Indeed that gentleman, whatever
objections were made to him, had knowledge and abilities much above the
class of ordinary writers, and deserves to be remembered as a
respectable name in literature, were it only for his admirable _Letters
on the English Nation_, under the name of 'Battista Angeloni, a
Jesuit[364].'
Johnson and Shebbeare[365] were frequently named together, as having in
former reigns had no predilection for the family of Hanover. The authour
of the celebrated _Heroick Epistle to Sir William Chambers_, introduces
them in one line, in a list of those 'who tasted the sweets of his
present Majesty's reign[366].' Such was Johnson's candid relish of the
merit of that satire, that he allowed Dr. Goldsmith, as he told me, to
read it to him from beginning to end, and did not refuse his praise to
its execution[367].
Goldsmith could sometimes take adventurous liberties with him, and
escape unpunished. Beauclerk told me that when Goldsmith talked of a
project for having a third Theatre in London, solely for the exhibition
of new plays, in order to deliver authours from the supposed tyranny of
managers, Johnson treated it slightingly; upon which Goldsmith said,
'Ay, ay, this may be nothing to you, who can now shelter yourself behind
the corner of a pension;' and that Johnson bore this with good-humour.
Johnson praised the Earl of Carlisle's Poems[368], which his Lordship
had published with his name, as not disdaining to be a candidate for
literary fame. My friend was of opinion, that when a man of rank
appeared in that character, he deserved to have his merit handsomely
allowed[369]. In this I think he was more liberal than Mr. William
Whitehead[370], in his _Elegy to Lord Villiers_, in which under the
pretext of 'superiour toils, demanding all their care,' he discovers a
jealousy of the great paying their court to the Muses:--
'------to the chosen few
Who dare excel, thy fost'ring aid afford,
Their arts, their magick powers, with honours due
Exalt;--but be thyself what they record[371].'
Johnson had called twice on the Bishop of Killaloe[372] before his
Lordship set out for Ireland, having missed him the first time. He said,
'It would have hung heavy on my heart if I had not seen him. No man ever
paid more attention to another than he has done to me[373]; and I have
neglected him, not wilfully, but from being otherwise occupied. Always,
Sir, set a high value on spontaneous kindness. He whose inclination
prompts him to cultivate your friendship of his own accord, will love
you more than one whom you have been at pains to attach to you.'
Johnson told me, that he was once much pleased to find that a
carpenter, who lived near him, was very ready to shew him some things in
his business which he wished to see: 'It was paying (said he) respect to
literature.'
I asked him if he was not dissatisfied with having so small a share of
wealth, and none of those distinctions in the state which are the
objects of ambition. He had only a pension of three hundred a year. Why
was he not in such circumstances as to keep his coach? Why had he not
some considerable office? JOHNSON, 'Sir, I have never complained of the
world[374]; nor do I think that I have reason to complain. It is rather
to be wondered at that I have so much. My pension is more out of the
usual course of things than any instance that I have known. Here, Sir,
was a man avowedly no friend to Government at the time, who got a
pension without asking for it. I never courted the great; they sent for
me; but I think they now give me up. They are satisfied; they have seen
enough of me.' Upon my observing that I could not believe this, for they
must certainly be highly pleased by his conversation; conscious of his
own superiority, he answered, 'No, Sir; great lords and great ladies
don't love to have their mouths stopped[375].' This was very expressive
of the effect which the force of his understanding and brilliancy of his
fancy could not but produce; and, to be sure, they must have found
themselves strangely diminished in his company. When I warmly declared
how happy I was at all times to hear him;--'Yes, Sir, (said he); but if
you were Lord Chancellor, it would not be so: you would then consider
your own dignity.'
There was much truth and knowledge of human nature in this remark. But
certainly one should think, that in whatever elevated state of life a
man who _knew_ the value of the conversation of Johnson might be placed,
though he might prudently avoid a situation in which he might appear
lessened by comparison; yet he would frequently gratify himself in
private with the participation of the rich intellectual entertainment
which Johnson could furnish. Strange, however, it is, to consider how
few of the great sought his society[376]; so that if one were disposed
to take occasion for satire on that account, very conspicuous objects
present themselves. His noble friend, Lord Elibank, well observed, that
if a great man procured an interview with Johnson, and did not wish to
see him more, it shewed a mere idle curiosity, and a wretched want of
relish for extraordinary powers of mind[377]. Mrs. Thrale justly and
wittily accounted for such conduct by saying, that Johnson's
conversation was by much too strong for a person accustomed to
obsequiousness and flattery; it was _mustard in a young child's mouth!_
One day, when I told him that I was a zealous Tory, but not enough
'according to knowledge[378],' and should be obliged to him for 'a
reason[379],' he was so candid, and expressed himself so well, that I
begged of him to repeat what he had said, and I wrote down as follows:--
OF TORY AND WHIG.
'A wise Tory and a wise Whig, I believe, will agree[380]. Their
principles are the same, though their modes of thinking are different. A
high Tory makes government unintelligible: it is lost in the clouds. A
violent Whig makes it impracticable: he is for allowing so much liberty
to every man, that there is not power enough to govern any man. The
prejudice of the Tory is for establishment; the prejudice of the Whig is
for innovation. A Tory does not wish to give more real power to
Government; but that Government should have more reverence. Then they
differ as to the Church. The Tory is not for giving more legal power to
the Clergy, but wishes they should have a considerable influence,
founded on the opinion of mankind; the Whig is for limiting and watching
them with a narrow jealousy.'
To MR. PERKINS.
'SIR,
However often I have seen you, I have hitherto forgotten the note, but I
have now sent it: with my good wishes for the prosperity of you and your
partner[381], of whom, from our short conversation, I could not judge
otherwise than favourably.
I am, Sir,
Your most humble servant,
SAM. JOHNSON.
June 2, 1781.'
On Saturday, June 2, I set out for Scotland, and had promised to pay a
visit in my way, as I sometimes did, at Southill, in Bedfordshire, at
the hospitable mansion of 'Squire Dilly, the elder brother of my worthy
friends, the booksellers, in the Poultry. Dr. Johnson agreed to be of
the party this year, with Mr. Charles Dilly and me, and to go and see
Lord Bute's seat at Luton Hoe. He talked little to us in the carriage,
being chiefly occupied in reading Dr. Watson's[382] second volume of
_Chemical Essays_[383], which he liked very well, and his own _Prince
of Abyssinia_, on which he seemed to be intensely fixed; having told us,
that he had not looked at it since it was first published. I happened to
take it out of my pocket this day, and he seized upon it with avidity.
He pointed out to me the following remarkable passage[384]:--
'By what means (said the prince) are the Europeans thus powerful; or
why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa for trade or
conquest, cannot the Asiaticks and Africans invade their coasts, plant
colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural princes? The
same wind that carries them back would bring us thither.' 'They are more
powerful, Sir, than we, (answered Imlac,) because they are wiser.
Knowledge will always predominate over ignorance, as man governs the
other animals. But why their knowledge is more than ours, I know not
what reason can be given, but the unsearchable will of the
Supreme Being.'
He said, 'This, Sir, no man can explain otherwise.'
We stopped at Welwyn, where I wished much to see, in company with Dr.
Johnson, the residence of the authour of _Night Thoughts_, which was
then possessed by his son, Mr. Young. Here some address was requisite,
for I was not acquainted with Mr. Young, and had I proposed to Dr.
Johnson that we should send to him, he would have checked my wish, and
perhaps been offended. I therefore concerted with Mr. Dilly, that I
should steal away from Dr. Johnson and him, and try what reception I
could procure from Mr. Young; if unfavourable, nothing was to be said;
but if agreeable, I should return and notify it to them. I hastened to
Mr. Young's, found he was at home, sent in word that a gentleman desired
to wait upon him, and was shewn into a parlour, where he and a young
lady, his daughter, were sitting. He appeared to be a plain, civil,
country gentleman; and when I begged pardon for presuming to trouble
him, but that I wished much to see his place, if he would give me leave;
he behaved very courteously, and answered, 'By all means, Sir; we are
just going to drink tea; will you sit down?' I thanked him, but said,
that Dr. Johnson had come with me from London, and I must return to the
inn and drink tea with him; that my name was Boswell, I had travelled
with him in the Hebrides. 'Sir, (said he) I should think it a great
honour to see Dr. Johnson here. Will you allow me to send for him?'
Availing myself of this opening, I said that 'I would go myself and
bring him, when he had drunk tea; he knew nothing of my calling here.'
Having been thus successful, I hastened back to the inn, and informed
Dr. Johnson that 'Mr. Young, son of Dr. Young, the authour of _Night
Thoughts_, whom I had just left, desired to have the honour of seeing
him at the house where his father lived.' Dr. Johnson luckily made no
inquiry how this invitation had arisen, but agreed to go, and when we
entered Mr. Young's parlour, he addressed him with a very polite bow,
'Sir, I had a curiosity to come and see this place. I had the honour to
know that great man[385], your father.' We went into the garden, where
we found a gravel walk, on each side of which was a row of trees,
planted by Dr. Young, which formed a handsome Gothick arch; Dr. Johnson
called it a fine grove. I beheld it with reverence.
We sat some time in the summer-house, on the outside wall of which was
inscribed, _'Ambulantes in horto audiebant vocem Dei_[386];' and in
reference to a brook by which it is situated, _'Vivendi recte qui
prorogat horam_[387],' &c. I said to Mr. Young, that I had been told his
father was cheerful[388]. 'Sir, (said he) he was too well-bred a man not
to be cheerful in company; but he was gloomy when alone. He never was
cheerful after my mother's death, and he had met with many
disappointments.' Dr. Johnson observed to me afterwards, 'That this was
no favourable account of Dr. Young; for it is not becoming in a man to
have so little acquiescence in the ways of Providence, as to be gloomy
because he has not obtained as much preferment as he expected[389]; nor
to continue gloomy for the loss of his wife. Grief has its time[390].'
