Boswell's Life of Johnson
justly considered as due to it. Of this, besides the general tenor
of his conduct in society, some characteristical instances may be
mentioned.
He told Sir Joshua Reynolds, that once when he dined in a numerous
company of booksellers, where the room being small, the head of the
table, at which he sat, was almost close to the fire, he persevered in
suffering a great deal of inconvenience from the heat, rather than quit
his place, and let one of them sit above him.
Goldsmith, in his diverting simplicity, complained one day, in a mixed
company, of Lord Camden. 'I met him (said he,) at Lord Clare's house
in the country, and he took no more notice of me than if I had been an
ordinary man. The company having laughed heartily, Johnson stood forth
in defence of his friend. 'Nay, Gentlemen, (said he,) Dr. Goldsmith
is in the right. A nobleman ought to have made up to such a man as
Goldsmith; and I think it is much against Lord Camden that he neglected
him.'
Nor could he patiently endure to hear that such respect as he thought
due only to higher intellectual qualities, should be bestowed on men
of slighter, though perhaps more amusing talents. I told him, that one
morning, when I went to breakfast with Garrick, who was very vain of his
intimacy with Lord Camden, he accosted me thus:--'Pray now, did you--did
you meet a little lawyer turning the corner, eh?'--'No, Sir, (said I).
Pray what do you mean by the question?'--'Why, (replied Garrick, with an
affected indifference, yet as if standing on tip-toe,) Lord Camden has
this moment left me. We have had a long walk together.' JOHNSON. 'Well,
Sir, Garrick talked very properly. Lord Camden WAS A LITTLE LAWYER to be
associating so familiarly with a player.'
Sir Joshua Reynolds observed, with great truth, that Johnson considered
Garrick to be as it were his PROPERTY. He would allow no man either to
blame or to praise Garrick in his presence, without contradicting him.
Having fallen into a very serious frame of mind, in which mutual
expressions of kindness passed between us, such as would be thought
too vain in me to repeat, I talked with regret of the sad inevitable
certainty that one of us must survive the other. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir,
that is an affecting consideration. I remember Swift, in one of his
letters to Pope, says, "I intend to come over, that we may meet once
more; and when we must part, it is what happens to all human beings."'
BOSWELL. 'The hope that we shall see our departed friends again must
support the mind.' JOHNSON. 'Why yes, Sir.' BOSWELL. 'There is a strange
unwillingness to part with life, independent of serious fears as to
futurity. A reverend friend of ours (naming him) tells me, that he
feels an uneasiness at the thoughts of leaving his house, his study, his
books.' JOHNSON. 'This is foolish in *****. A man need not be uneasy on
these grounds; for, as he will retain his consciousness, he may say with
the philosopher, Omnia mea mecum porto.' BOSWELL. 'True, Sir: we may
carry our books in our heads; but still there is something painful in
the thought of leaving for ever what has given us pleasure. I remember,
many years ago, when my imagination was warm, and I happened to be in
a melancholy mood, it distressed me to think of going into a state of
being in which Shakspeare's poetry did not exist. A lady whom I then
much admired, a very amiable woman, humoured my fancy, and relieved me
by saying, "The first thing you will meet in the other world, will be
an elegant copy of Shakspeare's works presented to you."' Dr. Johnson
smiled benignantly at this, and did not appear to disapprove of the
notion.
We went to St. Clement's church again in the afternoon, and then
returned and drank tea and coffee in Mrs. Williams's room; Mrs.
Desmoulins doing the honours of the tea-table. I observed that he would
not even look at a proof-sheet of his Life of Waller on Good-Friday.
On Saturday, April 14, I drank tea with him. He praised the late Mr.
Duncombe, of Canterbury, as a pleasing man. 'He used to come to me: I
did not seek much after HIM. Indeed I never sought much after any body.'
BOSWELL. 'Lord Orrery, I suppose.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; I never went to
him but when he sent for me.' BOSWELL. 'Richardson?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir.
But I sought after George Psalmanazar the most. I used to go and sit
with him at an alehouse in the city.'
I am happy to mention another instance which I discovered of his SEEKING
AFTER a man of merit. Soon after the Honourable Daines Barrington had
published his excellent Observations on the Statutes, Johnson waited
on that worthy and learned gentleman; and, having told him his name,
courteously said, 'I have read your book, Sir, with great pleasure, and
wish to be better known to you.' Thus began an acquaintance, which was
continued with mutual regard as long as Johnson lived.
Talking of a recent seditious delinquent, he said, 'They should set him
in the pillory, that he may be punished in a way that would disgrace
him.' I observed, that the pillory does not always disgrace. And I
mentioned an instance of a gentleman who I thought was not dishonoured
by it. JOHNSON. 'Ay, but he was, Sir. He could not mouth and strut as he
used to do, after having been there. People are not willing to ask a man
to their tables who has stood in the pillory.'
Johnson attacked the Americans with intemperate vehemence of abuse. I
said something in their favour; and added, that I was always sorry when
he talked on that subject. This, it seems, exasperated him; though he
said nothing at the time. The cloud was charged with sulphureous vapour,
which was afterwards to burst in thunder.--We talked of a gentleman who
was running out his fortune in London; and I said, 'We must get him out
of it. All his friends must quarrel with him, and that will soon drive
him away.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir; we'll send YOU to him. If your company
does not drive a man out of his house, nothing will.' This was a
horrible shock, for which there was no visible cause. I afterwards asked
him why he had said so harsh a thing. JOHNSON. Because, Sir, you made
me angry about the Americans.' BOSWELL. 'But why did you not take your
revenge directly?' JOHNSON. (smiling,) 'Because, Sir, I had nothing
ready. A man cannot strike till he has his weapons.' This was a candid
and pleasant confession.
He shewed me to-night his drawing-room, very genteelly fitted up; and
said, 'Mrs. Thrale sneered when I talked of my having asked you and your
lady to live at my house. I was obliged to tell her, that you would be
in as respectable a situation in my house as in hers. Sir, the insolence
of wealth will creep out.' BOSWELL. 'She has a little both of the
insolence of wealth, and the conceit of parts.' JOHNSON. 'The insolence
of wealth is a wretched thing; but the conceit of parts has some
foundation. To be sure it should not be. But who is without it?'
BOSWELL. 'Yourself, Sir.' JOHNSON. 'Why, I play no tricks: I lay no
traps.' BOSWELL. 'No, Sir. You are six feet high, and you only do not
stoop.'
We talked of the numbers of people that sometimes have composed the
household of great families. I mentioned that there were a hundred
in the family of the present Earl of Eglintoune's father. Dr. Johnson
seeming to doubt it, I began to enumerate. 'Let us see: my Lord and my
Lady two.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, if you are to count by twos, you may
be long enough.' BOSWELL. 'Well, but now I add two sons and seven
daughters, and a servant for each, that will make twenty; so we have
the fifth part already.' JOHNSON. 'Very true. You get at twenty pretty
readily; but you will not so easily get further on. We grow to five feet
pretty readily; but it is not so easy to grow to seven.'
On Monday, April 20, I found him at home in the morning. We talked of a
gentleman who we apprehended was gradually involving his circumstances
by bad management. JOHNSON. 'Wasting a fortune is evaporation by a
thousand imperceptible means. If it were a stream, they'd stop it. You
must speak to him. It is really miserable. Were he a gamester, it could
be said he had hopes of winning. Were he a bankrupt in trade, he might
have grown rich; but he has neither spirit to spend nor resolution to
spare. He does not spend fast enough to have pleasure from it. He has
the crime of prodigality, and the wretchedness of parsimony. If a man is
killed in a duel, he is killed as many a one has been killed; but it is
a sad thing for a man to lie down and die; to bleed to death, because he
has not fortitude enough to sear the wound, or even to stitch it up.' I
cannot but pause a moment to admire the fecundity of fancy, and
choice of language, which in this instance, and, indeed, on almost all
occasions, he displayed. It was well observed by Dr. Percy, now Bishop
of Dromore, 'The conversation of Johnson is strong and clear, and may be
compared to an antique statue, where every vein and muscle is distinct
and bold. Ordinary conversation resembles an inferiour cast.'
On Saturday, April 25, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, with
the learned Dr. Musgrave, Counsellor Leland of Ireland, son to the
historian, Mrs. Cholmondeley, and some more ladies.
'Demosthenes Taylor, as he was called, (that is, the Editor of
Demosthenes) was the most silent man, the merest statue of a man that I
have ever seen. I once dined in company with him, and all he said during
the whole time was no more than Richard. How a man should say only
Richard, it is not easy to imagine. But it was thus: Dr. Douglas was
talking of Dr. Zachary Grey, and ascribing to him something that was
written by Dr. Richard Grey. So, to correct him, Taylor said, (imitating
his affected sententious emphasis and nod,) "RICHARD."'
Mrs. Cholmondeley, in a high flow of spirits, exhibited some lively
sallies of hyperbolical compliment to Johnson, with whom she had been
long acquainted, and was very easy. He was quick in catching the MANNER
of the moment, and answered her somewhat in the style of the hero of a
romance, 'Madam, you crown me with unfading laurels.'
We talked of a lady's verses on Ireland. MISS REYNOLDS. 'Have you seen
them, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'No, Madam. I have seen a translation from Horace,
by one of her daughters. She shewed it me.' MISS REYNOLDS. 'And how was
it, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Why, very well for a young Miss's verses;--that
is to say, compared with excellence, nothing; but, very well, for the
person who wrote them. I am vexed at being shewn verses in that manner.'
MISS REYNOLDS. 'But if they should be good, why not give them hearty
praise?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Madam, because I have not then got the better
of my bad humour from having been shown them. You must consider, Madam;
beforehand they may be bad, as well as good. Nobody has a right to put
another under such a difficulty, that he must either hurt the person
by telling the truth, or hurt himself by telling what is not true.'
BOSWELL. 'A man often shews his writings to people of eminence, to
obtain from them, either from their good-nature, or from their not
being able to tell the truth firmly, a commendation, of which he may
afterwards avail himself.' JOHNSON. 'Very true, Sir. Therefore the man,
who is asked by an authour, what he thinks of his work, is put to the
torture, and is not obliged to speak the truth; so that what he says is
not considered as his opinion; yet he has said it, and cannot retract
it; and this authour, when mankind are hunting him with a cannister
at his tail, can say, "I would not have published, had not Johnson, or
Reynolds, or Musgrave, or some other good judge, commended the work."
Yet I consider it as a very difficult question in conscience, whether
one should advise a man not to publish a work, if profit be his object;
for the man may say, "Had it not been for you, I should have had the