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The Life Of Johnson, Volume 3 of 6

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BOSWELL'S
LIFE OF JOHNSON

INCLUDING BOSWELL'S JOURNAL OF A TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES
AND JOHNSON'S DIARY OF A JOURNEY INTO NORTH WALES

EDITED BY

GEORGE BIRKBECK HILL, D.C.L.

PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD

IN SIX VOLUMES

VOLUME III.--LIFE (1776-1780)


CONTENTS OF VOL. III.

LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. (MARCH 1776--OCT. 1780).

APPENDICES:

A. GEORGE PSALMANAZAR

B. JOHNSON'S TRAVELS AND LOVE OF TRAVELLING

C. ELECTION OF LORD MAYORS OF LONDON

D. THE INMATES OF JOHNSON'S HOUSE

E. BOSWELL'S LETTERS OF ACCEPTANCE OF THE OFFICE
OF SECRETARY FOR FOREIGN CORRESPONDENCE TO
THE ROYAL ACADEMY




THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.


Having left Ashbourne in the evening, we stopped to change horses at
Derby, and availed ourselves of a moment to enjoy the conversation of my
countryman, Dr. Butter, then physician there. He was in great
indignation because Lord Mountstuart's bill for a Scotch militia[1] had
been lost. Dr. Johnson was as violent against it. 'I am glad, (said he,)
that Parliament has had the spirit to throw it out. You wanted to take
advantage of the timidity of our scoundrels;' (meaning, I suppose, the
ministry). It may be observed, that he used the epithet scoundrel very
commonly not quite in the sense in which it is generally understood, but
as a strong term of disapprobation; as when he abruptly answered Mrs.
Thrale, who had asked him how he did, 'Ready to become a scoundrel,
Madam; with a little more spoiling you will, I think, make me a complete
rascal[2]:' he meant, easy to become a capricious and self-indulgent
valetudinarian; a character for which I have heard him express great
disgust.

Johnson had with him upon this jaunt, '_Il Palmerino d'Inghilterra_,' a
romance[3] praised by Cervantes; but did not like it much. He said, he
read it for the language, by way of preparation for his Italian
expedition.--We lay this night at Loughborough.

On Thursday, March 28, we pursued our journey. I mentioned that old Mr.
Sheridan complained of the ingratitude of Mr. Wedderburne[4] and General
Fraser, who had been much obliged to him when they were young Scotchmen
entering upon life in England. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, a man is very apt to
complain of the ingratitude of those who have risen far above him. A man
when he gets into a higher sphere, into other habits of life, cannot
keep up all his former connections. Then, Sir, those who knew him
formerly upon a level with themselves, may think that they ought still
to be treated as on a level, which cannot be; and an acquaintance in a
former situation may bring out things which it would be very
disagreeable to have mentioned before higher company, though, perhaps,
every body knows of them.' He placed this subject in a new light to me,
and shewed that a man who has risen in the world, must not be condemned
too harshly for being distant to former acquaintance, even though he may
have been much obliged to them.' It is, no doubt, to be wished that a
proper degree of attention should be shewn by great men to their early
friends. But if either from obtuse insensibility to difference of
situation, or presumptuous forwardness, which will not submit even to an
exteriour observance of it, the dignity of high place cannot be
preserved, when they are admitted into the company of those raised above
the state in which they once were, encroachment must be repelled, and
the kinder feelings sacrificed. To one of the very fortunate persons
whom I have mentioned, namely, Mr. Wedderburne, now Lord Loughborough, I
must do the justice to relate, that I have been assured by another early
acquaintance of his, old Mr. Macklin[5], who assisted in improving his
pronunciation, that he found him very grateful. Macklin, I suppose, had
not pressed upon his elevation with so much eagerness as the gentleman
who complained of him. Dr. Johnson's remark as to the jealousy
'entertained of our friends who rise far above us,' is certainly very
just. By this was withered the early friendship between Charles
Townshend and Akenside[6]; and many similar instances might be adduced.

He said, 'It is commonly a weak man who marries for love.' We then
talked of marrying women of fortune; and I mentioned a common remark,
that a man may be, upon the whole, richer by marrying a woman with a
very small portion, because a woman of fortune will be proportionally
expensive; whereas a woman who brings none will be very moderate in
expenses. JOHNSON. 'Depend upon it, Sir, this is not true. A woman of
fortune being used to the handling of money, spends it judiciously: but
a woman who gets the command of money for the first time upon her
marriage, has such a gust in spending it, that she throws it away with
great profusion.'

He praised the ladies of the present age, insisting that they were more
faithful to their husbands, and more virtuous in every respect, than in
former times, because their understandings were better cultivated[7]. It
was an undoubted proof of his good sense and good disposition, that he
was never querulous, never prone to inveigh against the present times,
as is so common when superficial minds are on the fret. On the contrary,
he was willing to speak favourably of his own age; and, indeed,
maintained its superiority[8] in every respect, except in its reverence
for government; the relaxation of which he imputed, as its grand cause,
to the shock which our monarchy received at the Revolution, though
necessary[9]; and secondly, to the timid concessions made to faction by
successive administrations in the reign of his present Majesty. I am
happy to think, that he lived to see the Crown at last recover its just
influence[10].

At Leicester we read in the news-paper that Dr. James[11] was dead. I
thought that the death of an old school-fellow, and one with whom he had
lived a good deal in London, would have affected my fellow-traveller
much: but he only said, 'Ah! poor Jamy.' Afterwards, however, when we
were in the chaise, he said, with more tenderness, 'Since I set out on
this jaunt, I have lost an old friend and a young one;--Dr. James, and
poor Harry[12].' (Meaning Mr. Thrale's son.)

Having lain at St. Alban's, on Thursday, March 28, we breakfasted the
next morning at Barnet. I expressed to him a weakness of mind which I
could not help; an uneasy apprehension that my wife and children, who
were at a great distance from me, might, perhaps, be ill. 'Sir, (said
he,) consider how foolish you would think it in _them_ to be
apprehensive that _you_ are ill[13].' This sudden turn relieved me for
the moment; but I afterwards perceived it to be an ingenious fallacy. I
might, to be sure, be satisfied that they had no reason to be
apprehensive about me, because I _knew_ that I myself was well: but we
might have a mutual anxiety, without the charge of folly; because each
was, in some degree, uncertain as to the condition of the other.

I enjoyed the luxury of our approach to London, that metropolis which we
both loved so much, for the high and varied intellectual pleasure which
it furnishes[14]. I experienced immediate happiness while whirled along
with such a companion, and said to him, 'Sir, you observed one day at
General Oglethorpe's[15], that a man is never happy for the present, but
when he is drunk. Will you not add,--or when driving rapidly in a
post-chaise[16]?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, you are driving rapidly from
something, or to something.'

Talking of melancholy, he said, 'Some men, and very thinking men too,
have not those vexing thoughts[17]. Sir Joshua Reynolds is the same all
the year round[18]. Beauclerk, except when ill and in pain, is the same.
But I believe most men have them in the degree in which they are capable
of having them. If I were in the country, and were distressed by that
malady, I would force myself to take a book; and every time I did it I
should find it the easier. Melancholy, indeed, should be diverted by
every means but drinking[19].'

We stopped at Messieurs Dillys, booksellers in the Poultry; from whence
he hurried away, in a hackney coach, to Mr. Thrale's, in the Borough. I
called at his house in the evening, having promised to acquaint Mrs.
Williams of his safe return; when, to my surprize, I found him sitting
with her at tea, and, as I thought, not in a very good humour: for, it
seems, when he had got to Mr. Thrale's, he found the coach was at the
door waiting to carry Mrs. and Miss Thrale, and Signor Baretti, their
Italian master, to Bath[20]. This was not shewing the attention which
might have been expected to the 'Guide, Philosopher, and Friend[21],' the
_Imlac_[22] who had hastened from the country to console a distressed
mother, who he understood was very anxious for his return. They had, I
found, without ceremony, proceeded on their intended journey. I was glad
to understand from him that it was still resolved that his tour to Italy
with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale should take place, of which he had entertained
some doubt, on account of the loss which they had suffered; and his
doubts afterwards proved to be well-founded. He observed, indeed very
justly, that 'their loss was an additional reason for their going
abroad; and if it had not been fixed that he should have been one of the
party, he would force them out; but he would not advise them unless his
advice was asked, lest they might suspect that he recommended what he
wished on his own account.' I was not pleased that his intimacy with Mr.
Thrale's family, though it no doubt contributed much to his comfort and
enjoyment, was not without some degree of restraint: not, as has been
grossly suggested, that it was required of him as a task to talk for the
entertainment of them and their company; but that he was not quite at
his ease; which, however, might partly be owing to his own honest
pride--that dignity of mind which is always jealous of appearing too
compliant.

On Sunday, March 31, I called on him, and shewed him as a curiosity
which I had discovered, his _Translation of Lobo's Account of
Abyssinia_, which Sir John Pringle had lent me, it being then little
known as one of his works[23]. He said, 'Take no notice of it,' or 'don't
talk of it.' He seemed to think it beneath him, though done at
six-and-twenty. I said to him, 'Your style, Sir, is much improved since
you translated this.' He answered with a sort of triumphant smile, 'Sir,
I hope it is.'

On Wednesday, April 3, in the morning I found him very busy putting his
books in order, and as they were generally very old ones, clouds of dust
were flying around him. He had on a pair of large gloves such as hedgers
use. His present appearance put me in mind of my uncle, Dr. Boswell's[24]
description of him, 'A robust genius, born to grapple with whole
libraries.'

I gave him an account of a conversation which had passed between me and
Captain Cook, the day before, at dinner at Sir John Pringle's[25]; and he
was much pleased with the conscientious accuracy of that celebrated
circumnavigator, who set me right as to many of the exaggerated accounts
given by Dr. Hawkesworth of his Voyages. I told him that while I was
with the Captain, I catched the enthusiasm[26] of curiosity and
adventure, and felt a strong inclination to go with him on his next
voyage. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, a man _does_ feel so, till he considers how
very little he can learn from such voyages.' BOSWELL. 'But one is
carried away with the general grand and indistinct notion of A VOYAGE
ROUND THE WORLD.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, but a man is to guard himself
against taking a thing in general.' I said I was certain that a great
part of what we are told by the travellers to the South Sea must be
conjecture, because they had not enough of the language of those
countries to understand so much as they have related. Objects falling
under the observation of the senses might be clearly known; but every
thing intellectual, every thing abstract--politicks, morals, and
religion, must be darkly guessed. Dr. Johnson was of the same opinion.
He upon another occasion, when a friend mentioned to him several
extraordinary facts, as communicated to him by the circumnavigators,
slily observed, 'Sir, I never before knew how much I was respected by
these gentlemen; they told _me_ none of these things.'

He had been in company with Omai, a native of one of the South Sea
Islands, after he had been some time in this country. He was struck with
the elegance of his behaviour, and accounted for it thus: 'Sir, he had
passed his time, while in England, only in the best company; so that all
that he had acquired of our manners was genteel. As a proof of this,
Sir, Lord Mulgrave and he dined one day at Streatham; they sat with
their backs to the light fronting me, so that I could not see
distinctly; and there was so little of the savage in Omai, that I was
afraid to speak to either, lest I should mistake one for the other[27].'

We agreed to dine to-day at the Mitre-tavern, after the rising of the
House of Lords, where a branch of the litigation concerning the Douglas
Estate[28], in which I was one of the counsel, was to come on. I brought
with me Mr. Murray, Solicitor-General of Scotland, now one of the Judges
of the Court of Session, with the title of Lord Henderland. I mentioned
Mr. Solicitor's relation, Lord Charles Hay[29], with whom I knew Dr.
Johnson had been acquainted. JOHNSON. 'I wrote something[30] for Lord
Charles; and I thought he had nothing to fear from a court-martial. I
suffered a great loss when he died; he was a mighty pleasing man in
conversation, and a reading man. The character of a soldier is high.
They who stand forth the foremost in danger, for the community, have the
respect of mankind. An officer is much more respected than any other man
who has as little money. In a commercial country, money will always
purchase respect. But you find, an officer, who has, properly speaking,
no money, is every where well received and treated with attention. The
character of a soldier always stands him in stead[31].' BOSWELL. 'Yet,
Sir, I think that common soldiers are worse thought of than other men in
the same rank of life; such as labourers.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, a common
soldier is usually a very gross man[32], and any quality which procures
respect may be overwhelmed by grossness. A man of learning may be so
vicious or so ridiculous that you cannot respect him. A common soldier
too, generally eats more than he can pay for. But when a common soldier
is civil in his quarters, his red coat procures him a degree of
respect[33].' The peculiar respect paid to the military character in
France was mentioned. BOSWELL. 'I should think that where military men
are so numerous, they would be less valued as not being rare.' JOHNSON.
'Nay, Sir, wherever a particular character or profession is high in the
estimation of a people, those who are of it will be valued above other
men. We value an Englishman highly in this country, and yet Englishmen
are not rare in it.'

Mr. Murray praised the ancient philosophers for the candour and good
humour with which those of different sects disputed with each other.
JOHNSON. 'Sir, they disputed with good humour, because they were not in
earnest as to religion. Had the ancients been serious in their belief,
we should not have had their Gods exhibited in the manner we find them
represented in the Poets. The people would not have suffered it. They
disputed with good humour upon their fanciful theories, because they
were not interested in the truth of them: when a man has nothing to
lose, he may be in good humour with his opponent. Accordingly you see in
Lucian, the Epicurean, who argues only negatively, keeps his temper; the
Stoick, who has something positive to preserve, grows angry[34]. Being
angry with one who controverts an opinion which you value, is a
necessary consequence of the uneasiness which you feel. Every man who
attacks my belief, diminishes in some degree my confidence in it, and
therefore makes me uneasy; and I am angry with him who makes me
uneasy[35]. Those only who believed in revelation have been angry at
having their faith called in question; because they only had something
upon which they could rest as matter of fact.' MURRAY. 'It seems to me
that we are not angry at a man for controverting an opinion which we
believe and value; we rather pity him.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir; to be sure
when you wish a man to have that belief which you think is of infinite
advantage, you wish well to him; but your primary consideration is your
own quiet. If a madman were to come into this room with a stick in his
hand, no doubt we should pity the state of his mind; but our primary
consideration would be to take care of ourselves. We should knock him
down first, and pity him afterwards. No, Sir; every man will dispute
with great good humour upon a subject in which he is not interested. I
will dispute very calmly upon the probability of another man's son being
hanged; but if a man zealously enforces the probability that my own son
will be hanged, I shall certainly not be in a very good humour with
him.' I added this illustration, 'If a man endeavours to convince me
that my wife, whom I love very much, and in whom I place great
confidence, is a disagreeable woman, and is even unfaithful to me, I
shall be very angry, for he is putting me in fear of being unhappy.'
MURRAY. 'But, Sir, truth will always bear an examination.' JOHNSON.
'Yes, Sir, but it is painful to be forced to defend it. Consider, Sir,
how should you like, though conscious of your innocence, to be tried
before a jury for a capital crime, once a week.'

We talked of education at great schools; the advantages and
disadvantages of which Johnson displayed in a luminous manner; but his
arguments preponderated so much in favour of the benefit which a boy of
good parts[36] might receive at one of them, that I have reason to
believe Mr. Murray was very much influenced by what he had heard to-day,
in his determination to send his own son to Westminster school[37].--I
have acted in the same manner with regard to my own two sons; having
placed the eldest at Eton, and the second at Westminster. I cannot say
which is best.[38] But in justice to both those noble seminaries, I with
high satisfaction declare, that my boys have derived from them a great
deal of good, and no evil: and I trust they will, like Horace[39], be
grateful to their father for giving them so valuable an education.

I introduced the topick, which is often ignorantly urged, that the
Universities of England are too rich[40]; so that learning does not
flourish in them as it would do, if those who teach had smaller
salaries, and depended on their assiduity for a great part of their
income. JOHNSON. 'Sir, the very reverse of this is the truth; the
English Universities are not rich enough. Our fellowships are only
sufficient to support a man during his studies to fit him for the world,
and accordingly in general they are held no longer than till an
opportunity offers of getting away. Now and then, perhaps, there is a
fellow who grows old in his college; but this is against his will,
unless he be a man very indolent indeed. A hundred a year is reckoned a
good fellowship, and that is no more than is necessary to keep a man
decently as a scholar. We do not allow our fellows to marry, because we
consider academical institutions as preparatory to a settlement in the
world. It is only by being employed as a tutor, that a fellow can obtain
any thing more than a livelihood. To be sure a man, who has enough
without teaching, will probably not teach; for we would all be idle if
we could[41]. In the same manner, a man who is to get nothing by
teaching, will not exert himself. Gresham-College was intended as a
place of instruction for London; able professors were to read lectures
gratis, they contrived to have no scholars; whereas, if they had been
allowed to receive but sixpence a lecture from each scholar, they would
have been emulous to have had many scholars. Every body will agree that
it should be the interest of those who teach to have scholars; and this
is the case in our Universities[42]. That they are too rich is certainly
not true; for they have nothing good enough to keep a man of eminent
learning with them for his life. In the foreign Universities a
professorship is a high thing. It is as much almost as a man can make by
his learning; and therefore we find the most learned men abroad are in
the Universities[43]. It is not so with us. Our Universities are
impoverished of learning, by the penury of their provisions. I wish
there were many places of a thousand a-year at Oxford, to keep
first-rate men of learning from quitting the University.' Undoubtedly if
this were the case, Literature would have a still greater dignity and
splendour at Oxford, and there would be grander living sources of
instruction.

I mentioned Mr. Maclaurin's[44] uneasiness on account of a degree of
ridicule carelessly thrown on his deceased father, in Goldsmith's
_History of Animated Nature_, in which that celebrated mathematician is
represented as being subject to fits of yawning so violent as to render
him incapable of proceeding in his lecture; a story altogether
unfounded, but for the publication of which the law would give no
reparation[45]. This led us to agitate the question, whether legal
redress could be obtained, even when a man's deceased relation was
calumniated in a publication. Mr. Murray maintained there should be
reparation, unless the author could justify himself by proving the fact.
JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is of so much more consequence that truth should be
told, than that individuals should not be made uneasy, that it is much
better that the law does not restrain writing freely concerning the
characters of the dead. Damages will be given to a man who is
calumniated in his life-time, because he may be hurt in his worldly
interest, or at least hurt in his mind: but the law does not regard that
uneasiness which a man feels on having his ancestor calumniated[46]. That
is too nice. Let him deny what is said, and let the matter have a fair
chance by discussion. But, if a man could say nothing against a
character but what he can prove, history could not be written; for a
great deal is known of men of which proof cannot be brought. A minister
may be notoriously known to take bribes, and yet you may not be able to
prove it.' Mr. Murray suggested, that the authour should be obliged to
shew some sort of evidence, though he would not require a strict legal
proof: but Johnson firmly and resolutely opposed any restraint whatever,
as adverse to a free investigation of the characters of mankind[47].

On Thursday, April 4, having called on Dr. Johnson, I said, it was a
pity that truth was not so firm as to bid defiance to all attacks, so
that it might be shot at as much as people chose to attempt, and yet
remain unhurt. JOHNSON. 'Then, Sir, it would not be shot at. Nobody[48]
attempts to dispute that two and two make four: but with contests
concerning moral truth, human passions are generally mixed, and
therefore it must ever be liable to assault and misrepresentation.'

On Friday, April 5, being Good Friday, after having attended the morning
service at St. Clement's Church[49], I walked home with Johnson. We
talked of the Roman Catholick religion. JOHNSON. 'In the barbarous ages,
Sir, priests and people were equally deceived; but afterwards there were
gross corruptions introduced by the clergy, such as indulgences to
priests to have concubines, and the worship of images, not, indeed,
inculcated, but knowingly permitted.' He strongly censured the licensed
stews at Rome. BOSWELL. 'So then, Sir, you would allow of no irregular
intercourse whatever between the sexes?' JOHNSON. 'To be sure I would
not, Sir. I would punish it much more than it is done, and so restrain
it. In all countries there has been fornication, as in all countries
there has been theft; but there may be more or less of the one, as well
as of the other, in proportion to the force of law. All men will
naturally commit fornication, as all men will naturally steal. And, Sir,
it is very absurd to argue, as has been often done, that prostitutes are
necessary to prevent the violent effects of appetite from violating the
decent order of life; nay, should be permitted, in order to preserve the
chastity of our wives and daughters. Depend upon it, Sir, severe laws,
steadily enforced, would be sufficient against those evils, and would
promote marriage.'

I stated to him this case:--'Suppose a man has a daughter, who he knows
has been seduced, but her misfortune is concealed from the world? should
he keep her in his house? Would he not, by doing so, be accessory to
imposition? And, perhaps, a worthy, unsuspecting man might come and
marry this woman, unless the father inform him of the truth.' JOHNSON.
'Sir, he is accessory to no imposition. His daughter is in his house;
and if a man courts her, he takes his chance. If a friend, or, indeed,
if any man asks his opinion whether he should marry her, he ought to
advise him against it, without telling why, because his real opinion is
then required. Or, if he has other daughters who know of her frailty, he
ought not to keep her in his house. You are to consider the state of
life is this; we are to judge of one another's characters as well as we
can; and a man is not bound, in honesty or honour, to tell us the faults
of his daughter or of himself. A man who has debauched his friend's
daughter is not obliged to say to every body--"Take care of me; don't
let me into your houses without suspicion. I once debauched a friend's
daughter. I may debauch yours."'

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