Boswell's Life of Johnson
to divest it. You remember that the Emperour Charles V, when he read
upon the tomb-stone of a Spanish nobleman, "Here lies one who never knew
fear," wittily said, "Then he never snuffed a candle with his fingers."'
Dr. Johnson went home with me, and drank tea till late in the night. He
said, 'General Paoli had the loftiest port of any man he had ever seen.'
He denied that military men were always the best bred men. 'Perfect good
breeding,' he observed, 'consists in having no particular mark of any
profession, but a general elegance of manners; whereas, in a military
man, you can commonly distinguish the BRAND of a soldier, l'homme
d'epee.'
Dr. Johnson shunned to-night any discussion of the perplexed question
of fate and free will, which I attempted to agitate. 'Sir, (said he,) we
KNOW our will is free, and THERE'S an end on't.'
He honoured me with his company at dinner on the 16th of October, at my
lodgings in Old Bond-street, with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Garrick, Dr.
Goldsmith, Mr. Murphy, Mr. Bickerstaff, and Mr. Thomas Davies. Garrick
played round him with a fond vivacity, taking hold of the breasts of his
coat, and, looking up in his face with a lively archness, complimented
him on the good health which he seemed then to enjoy; while the sage,
shaking his head, beheld him with a gentle complacency. One of the
company not being come at the appointed hour, I proposed, as usual upon
such occasions, to order dinner to be served; adding, 'Ought six people
to be kept waiting for one?' 'Why, yes, (answered Johnson, with a
delicate humanity,) if the one will suffer more by your sitting down,
than the six will do by waiting.' Goldsmith, to divert the tedious
minutes, strutted about, bragging of his dress, and I believe was
seriously vain of it, for his mind was wonderfully prone to such
impressions. 'Come, come, (said Garrick,) talk no more of that. You
are, perhaps, the worst--eh, eh!'--Goldsmith was eagerly attempting to
interrupt him, when Garrick went on, laughing ironically, 'Nay, you
will always LOOK like a gentleman; but I am talking of being well or ILL
DREST.' 'Well, let me tell you, (said Goldsmith,) when my tailor brought
home my bloom-coloured coat, he said, "Sir, I have a favour to beg of
you. When any body asks you who made your clothes, be pleased to mention
John Filby, at the Harrow, in Waterlane."' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, that was
because he knew the strange colour would attract crowds to gaze at it,
and thus they might hear of him, and see how well he could make a coat
even of so absurd a colour.'
After dinner our conversation first turned upon Pope. Johnson said, his
characters of men were admirably drawn, those of women not so well. He
repeated to us, in his forcible melodious manner, the concluding lines
of the Dunciad. While he was talking loudly in praise of those lines,
one of the company* ventured to say, 'Too fine for such a poem:--a poem
on what?' JOHNSON, (with a disdainful look,) 'Why, on DUNCES. It was
worth while being a dunce then. Ah, Sir, hadst THOU lived in those
days! It is not worth while 'being a dunce now, when there are no wits.'
Bickerstaff observed, as a peculiar circumstance, that Pope's fame was
higher when he was alive than it was then. Johnson said, his Pastorals
were poor things, though the versification was fine. He told us, with
high satisfaction, the anecdote of Pope's inquiring who was the authour
of his London, and saying, he will be soon deterre. He observed, that in
Dryden's poetry there were passages drawn from a profundity which Pope
could never reach. He repeated some fine lines on love, by the former,
(which I have now forgotten,) and gave great applause to the character
of Zimri. Goldsmith said, that Pope's character of Addison shewed a deep
knowledge of the human heart. Johnson said, that the description of the
temple, in The Mourning Bride, was the finest poetical passage he had
ever read; he recollected none in Shakspeare equal to it. 'But, (said
Garrick, all alarmed for the 'God of his idolatry,') we know not the
extent and variety of his powers. We are to suppose there are such
passages in his works. Shakspeare must not suffer from the badness of
our memories.' Johnson, diverted by this enthusiastick jealousy, went
on with greater ardour: 'No, Sir; Congreve has NATURE;' (smiling on the
tragick eagerness of Garrick;) but composing himself, he added, 'Sir,
this is not comparing Congreve on the whole, with Shakspeare on the
whole; but only maintaining that Congreve has one finer passage than any
that can be found in Shakspeare. Sir, a man may have no more than ten
guineas in the world, but he may have those ten guineas in one piece;
and so may have a finer piece than a man who has ten thousand pounds:
but then he has only one ten-guinea piece. What I mean is, that you
can shew me no passage where there is simply a description of material
objects, without any intermixture of moral notions, which produces such
an effect.' Mr. Murphy mentioned Shakspeare's description of the night
before the battle of Agincourt; but it was observed, it had MEN in it.
Mr. Davies suggested the speech of Juliet, in which she figures herself
awaking in the tomb of her ancestors. Some one mentioned the description
of Dover Cliff. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; it should be all precipice,--all
vacuum. The crows impede your fall. The diminished appearance of the
boats, and other circumstances, are all very good descriptions; but do
not impress the mind at once with the horrible idea of immense height.
The impression is divided; you pass on by computation, from one stage
of the tremendous space to another. Had the girl in The Mourning Bride
said, she could not cast her shoe to the top of one of the pillars in
the temple, it would not have aided the idea, but weakened it.'
* Everyone guesses that 'one of the company' was Boswell.
--HILL.
Talking of a Barrister who had a bad utterance, some one, (to rouse
Johnson,) wickedly said, that he was unfortunate in not having been
taught oratory by Sheridan. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, if he had been taught
by Sheridan, he would have cleared the room.' GARRICK. 'Sheridan has
too much vanity to be a good man.' We shall now see Johnson's mode of
DEFENDING a man; taking him into his own hands, and discriminating.
JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. There is, to be sure, in Sheridan, something to
reprehend, and every thing to laugh at; but, Sir, he is not a bad man.
No, Sir; were mankind to be divided into good and bad, he would stand
considerably within the ranks of good. And, Sir, it must be allowed
that Sheridan excels in plain declamation, though he can exhibit no
character.'
Mrs. Montagu, a lady distinguished for having written an Essay on
Shakspeare, being mentioned; REYNOLDS. 'I think that essay does her
honour.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir: it does HER honour, but it would do nobody
else honour. I have, indeed, not read it all. But when I take up the end
of a web, and find it packthread, I do not expect, by looking further,
to find embroidery. Sir, I will venture to say, there is not one
sentence of true criticism in her book.' GARRICK. 'But, Sir, surely it
shews how much Voltaire has mistaken Shakspeare, which nobody else has
done.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, nobody else has thought it worth while. And
what merit is there in that? You may as well praise a schoolmaster
for whipping a boy who has construed ill. No, Sir, there is no real
criticism in it: none shewing the beauty of thought, as formed on the
workings of the human heart.'
The admirers of this Essay may be offended at the slighting manner in
which Johnson spoke of it; but let it be remembered, that he gave his
honest opinion unbiassed by any prejudice, or any proud jealousy of
a woman intruding herself into the chair of criticism; for Sir Joshua
Reynolds has told me, that when the Essay first came out, and it was not
known who had written it, Johnson wondered how Sir Joshua could like it.
At this time Sir Joshua himself had received no information concerning
the authour, except being assured by one of our most eminent literati,
that it was clear its authour did not know the Greek tragedies in the
original. One day at Sir Joshua's table, when it was related that Mrs.
Montagu, in an excess of compliment to the authour of a modern
tragedy, had exclaimed, 'I tremble for Shakspeare;' Johnson said,
'When Shakspeare has got ---- for his rival, and Mrs. Montagu for his
defender, he is in a poor state indeed.'
On Thursday, October 19, I passed the evening with him at his house. He
advised me to complete a Dictionary of words peculiar to Scotland,
of which I shewed him a specimen. 'Sir, (said he,) Ray has made a
collection of north-country words. By collecting those of your country,
you will do a useful thing towards the history of the language. He bade
me also go on with collections which I was making upon the antiquities
of Scotland. 'Make a large book; a folio.' BOSWELL. 'But of what use
will it be, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Never mind the use; do it.'
I complained that he had not mentioned Garrick in his Preface to
Shakspeare; and asked him if he did not admire him. JOHNSON. 'Yes, as
"a poor player, who frets and struts his hour upon the stage;"--as
a shadow.' BOSWELL. 'But has he not brought Shakspeare into notice?'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, to allow that, would be to lampoon the age. Many
of Shakspeare's plays are the worse for being acted: Macbeth, for
instance.' BOSWELL. 'What, Sir, is nothing gained by decoration and
action? Indeed, I do wish that you had mentioned Garrick.' JOHNSON. 'My
dear Sir, had I mentioned him, I must have mentioned many more: Mrs.
Pritchard, Mrs. Cibber,--nay, and Mr. Cibber too; he too altered
Shakspeare.' BOSWELL. 'You have read his apology, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Yes,
it is very entertaining. But as for Cibber himself, taking from his
conversation all that he ought not to have said, he was a poor creature.
I remember when he brought me one of his Odes to have my opinion of it;
I could not bear such nonsense, and would not let him read it to the
end; so little respect had I for THAT GREAT MAN! (laughing.) Yet I
remember Richardson wondering that I could treat him with familiarity.'
I mentioned to him that I had seen the execution of several convicts at
Tyburn, two days before, and that none of them seemed to be under
any concern. JOHNSON. 'Most of them, Sir, have never thought at all.'
BOSWELL. 'But is not the fear of death natural to man?' JOHNSON. 'So
much so, Sir, that the whole of life is but keeping away the thoughts of
it.' He then, in a low and earnest tone, talked of his meditating upon
the aweful hour of his own dissolution, and in what manner he should
conduct himself upon that occasion: 'I know not (said he,) whether
I should wish to have a friend by me, or have it all between GOD and
myself.'
Talking of our feeling for the distresses of others;--JOHNSON. 'Why,
Sir, there is much noise made about it, but it is greatly exaggerated.
No, Sir, we have a certain degree of feeling to prompt us to do good:
more than that, Providence does not intend. It would be misery to no
purpose.' BOSWELL. 'But suppose now, Sir, that one of your intimate
friends were apprehended for an offence for which he might be hanged.'
JOHNSON. 'I should do what I could to bail him, and give him any other
assistance; but if he were once fairly hanged, I should not suffer.'
BOSWELL. 'Would you eat your dinner that day, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir;
and eat it as if he were eating it with me. Why, there's Baretti, who
is to be tried for his life to-morrow, friends have risen up for him on
every side; yet if he should be hanged, none of them will eat a slice of
plumb-pudding the less. Sir, that sympathetic feeling goes a very little
way in depressing the mind.'