Boswell's Life of Johnson
Satire, one of the couplets upon the vanity of wishes even for literary
distinction stood thus:
'Yet think what ills the scholar's life assail,
Pride, envy, want, the GARRET, and the jail.'
But after experiencing the uneasiness which Lord Chesterfield's
fallacious patronage made him feel, he dismissed the word garret from
the sad group, and in all the subsequent editions the line stands--
'Pride, envy, want, the PATRON, and the jail.'
That Lord Chesterfield must have been mortified by the lofty contempt,
and polite, yet keen satire with which Johnson exhibited him to himself
in this letter, it is impossible to doubt. He, however, with that
glossy duplicity which was his constant study, affected to be quite
unconcerned. Dr. Adams mentioned to Mr. Robert Dodsley that he was sorry
Johnson had written his letter to Lord Chesterfield. Dodsley, with the
true feelings of trade, said 'he was very sorry too; for that he had a
property in the Dictionary, to which his Lordship's patronage might have
been of consequence.' He then told Dr. Adams, that Lord Chesterfield had
shewn him the letter. 'I should have imagined (replied Dr. Adams) that
Lord Chesterfield would have concealed it.' 'Poh! (said Dodsley) do you
think a letter from Johnson could hurt Lord Chesterfield? Not at all,
Sir. It lay upon his table; where any body might see it. He read it
to me; said, "this man has great powers," pointed out the severest
passages, and observed how well they were expressed.' This air of
indifference, which imposed upon the worthy Dodsley, was certainly
nothing but a specimen of that dissimulation which Lord Chesterfield
inculcated as one of the most essential lessons for the conduct of life.
His Lordship endeavoured to justify himself to Dodsley from the charges
brought against him by Johnson; but we may judge of the flimsiness of
his defence, from his having excused his neglect of Johnson, by saying
that 'he had heard he had changed his lodgings, and did not know where
he lived;' as if there could have been the smallest difficulty to inform
himself of that circumstance, by inquiring in the literary circle with
which his Lordship was well acquainted, and was, indeed, himself one of
its ornaments.
Dr. Adams expostulated with Johnson, and suggested, that his not being
admitted when he called on him, was, probably, not to be imputed to Lord
Chesterfield; for his Lordship had declared to Dodsley, that 'he would
have turned off the best servant he ever had, if he had known that he
denied him to a man who would have been always more than welcome;' and,
in confirmation of this, he insisted on Lord Chesterfield's general
affability and easiness of access, especially to literary men. 'Sir
(said Johnson) that is not Lord Chesterfield; he is the proudest man
this day existing.' 'No, (said Dr. Adams) there is one person, at least,
as proud; I think, by your own account, you are the prouder man of the
two.' 'But mine (replied Johnson, instantly) was DEFENSIVE pride.' This,
as Dr. Adams well observed, was one of those happy turns for which he
was so remarkably ready.
Johnson having now explicitly avowed his opinion of Lord Chesterfield,
did not refrain from expressing himself concerning that nobleman with
pointed freedom: 'This man (said he) I thought had been a Lord among
wits; but, I find, he is only a wit among Lords!' And when his Letters
to his natural son were published, he observed, that 'they teach the
morals of a whore, and the manners of a dancing master.'
On the 6th of March came out Lord Bolingbroke's works, published by
Mr. David Mallet. The wild and pernicious ravings, under the name of
Philosophy, which were thus ushered into the world, gave great offence
to all well-principled men. Johnson, hearing of their tendency, which
nobody disputed, was roused with a just indignation, and pronounced this
memorable sentence upon the noble authour and his editor. 'Sir, he was a
scoundrel, and a coward: a scoundrel, for charging a blunderbuss against
religion and morality; a coward, because he had not resolution to fire
it off himself, but left half a crown to a beggarly Scotchman, to draw
the trigger after his death!'
Johnson this year found an interval of leisure to make an excursion to
Oxford, for the purpose of consulting the libraries there.
Of his conversation while at Oxford at this time, Mr. Warton preserved
and communicated to me the following memorial, which, though not written
with all the care and attention which that learned and elegant writer
bestowed on those compositions which he intended for the publick eye,
is so happily expressed in an easy style, that I should injure it by any
alteration:
'When Johnson came to Oxford in 1754, the long vacation was beginning,
and most people were leaving the place. This was the first time of his
being there, after quitting the University. The next morning after his
arrival, he wished to see his old College, Pembroke. I went with him.
He was highly pleased to find all the College-servants which he had left
there still remaining, particularly a very old butler; and expressed
great satisfaction at being recognised by them, and conversed with them
familiarly. He waited on the master, Dr. Radcliffe, who received him
very coldly. Johnson at least expected, that the master would order a
copy of his Dictionary, now near publication: but the master did not
choose to talk on the subject, never asked Johnson to dine, nor even to
visit him, while he stayed at Oxford. After we had left the lodgings,
Johnson said to me, "THERE lives a man, who lives by the revenues of
literature, and will not move a finger to support it. If I come to live
at Oxford, I shall take up my abode at Trinity." We then called on the
Reverend Mr. Meeke, one of the fellows, and of Johnson's standing. Here
was a most cordial greeting on both sides. On leaving him, Johnson said,
"I used to think Meeke had excellent parts, when we were boys together
at the College: but, alas!
'Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!'
I remember, at the classical lecture in the Hall, I could not bear
Meeke's superiority, and I tried to sit as far from him as I could, that
I might not hear him construe."
'As we were leaving the College, he said, "Here I translated Pope's
Messiah. Which do you think is the best line in it?--My own favourite
is,
'Vallis aromaticas fundit Saronica nubes.'"
I told him, I thought it a very sonorous hexameter. I did not tell him,
it was not in the Virgilian style. He much regretted that his FIRST
tutor was dead; for whom he seemed to retain the greatest regard. He
said, "I once had been a whole morning sliding in Christ-Church Meadow,
and missed his lecture in logick. After dinner, he sent for me to his
room. I expected a sharp rebuke for my idleness, and went with a beating
heart. When we were seated, he told me he had sent for me to drink a
glass of wine with him, and to tell me, he was NOT angry with me for
missing his lecture. This was, in fact, a most severe reprimand. Some
more of the boys were then sent for, and we spent a very pleasant
afternoon." Besides Mr. Meeke, there was only one other Fellow of
Pembroke now resident: from both of whom Johnson received the greatest
civilities during this visit, and they pressed him very much to have a
room in the College.
'In the course of this visit (1754), Johnson and I walked, three or four
times, to Ellsfield, a village beautifully situated about three miles
from Oxford, to see Mr. Wise, Radclivian librarian, with whom Johnson
was much pleased. At this place, Mr. Wise had fitted up a house and
gardens, in a singular manner, but with great taste. Here was an
excellent library; particularly, a valuable collection of books in
Northern literature, with which Johnson was often very busy. One day
Mr. Wise read to us a dissertation which he was preparing for the press,
intitled, "A History and Chronology of the fabulous Ages." Some old
divinities of Thrace, related to the Titans, and called the CABIRI, made
a very important part of the theory of this piece; and in conversation
afterwards, Mr. Wise talked much of his CABIRI. As we returned to Oxford
in the evening, I out-walked Johnson, and he cried out Sufflamina, a
Latin word which came from his mouth with peculiar grace, and was as
much as to say, Put on your drag chain. Before we got home, I again
walked too fast for him; and he now cried out, "Why, you walk as if you
were pursued by all the CABIRI in a body." In an evening, we frequently
took long walks from Oxford into the country, returning to supper. Once,
in our way home, we viewed the ruins of the abbies of Oseney and Rewley,
near Oxford. After at least half an hour's silence, Johnson said,
"I viewed them with indignation!" We had then a long conversation on
Gothick buildings; and in talking of the form of old halls, he said, "In
these halls, the fire place was anciently always in the middle of the
room, till the Whigs removed it on one side."--About this time there had
been an execution of two or three criminals at Oxford on a Monday.
Soon afterwards, one day at dinner, I was saying that Mr. Swinton
the chaplain of the gaol, and also a frequent preacher before the
University, a learned man, but often thoughtless and absent, preached
the condemnation-sermon on repentance, before the convicts, on the
preceding day, Sunday; and that in the close he told his audience, that
he should give them the remainder of what he had to say on the subject,
the next Lord's Day. Upon which, one of our company, a Doctor of
Divinity, and a plain matter-of-fact man, by way of offering an apology
for Mr. Swinton, gravely remarked, that he had probably preached the
same sermon before the University: "Yes, Sir, (says Johnson) but the
University were not to be hanged the next morning."
'I forgot to observe before, that when he left Mr. Meeke, (as I have
told above) he added, "About the same time of life, Meeke was left
behind at Oxford to feed on a Fellowship, and I went to London to get my
living: now, Sir, see the difference of our literary characters!"'
The degree of Master of Arts, which, it has been observed, could not be
obtained for him at an early period of his life, was now considered as
an honour of considerable importance, in order to grace the title-page
of his Dictionary; and his character in the literary world being by this
time deservedly high, his friends thought that, if proper exertions were
made, the University of Oxford would pay him the compliment.
To THE REVEREND THOMAS WARTON.
'DEAR SIR,--I am extremely sensible of the favour done me, both by Mr.
Wise and yourself. The book* cannot, I think, be printed in less than
six weeks, nor probably so soon; and I will keep back the title-page,
for such an insertion as you seem to promise me. . . .
'I had lately the favour of a letter from your brother, with some
account of poor Collins, for whom I am much concerned. I have a notion,
that by very great temperance, or more properly abstinence, he may yet
recover. . . .
'You know poor Mr. Dodsley has lost his wife; I believe he is much
affected. I hope he will not suffer so much as I yet suffer for the loss
of mine.
[Greek text omitted]
I have ever since seemed to myself broken off from mankind; a kind of
solitary wanderer in the wild of life, without any direction, or
fixed point of view: a gloomy gazer on a world to which I have little
relation. Yet I would endeavour, by the help of you and your brother,
to supply the want of closer union, by friendship: and hope to have long
the pleasure of being, dear Sir, most affectionately your's,
'[London.] Dec. 21, 1754.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
* 'His Dictionary'--WARTON.
1755: AETAT. 46.]--In 1755 we behold him to great advantage; his degree