Complete Works of Samuel Johnson

by Samuel Johnson

  He said, ‘Dr. Mead lived more in the broad sunshine of life than almost any man.’ The disaster of General Burgoyne’s army was then the common topic of conversation. It was asked why piling their arms was insisted upon as a matter of such consequence, when it seemed to be a circumstance so inconsiderable in itself. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, a French authour says, “Il y a beaucoup de puerilités dans la guerre.” All distinctions are trifles, because great things can seldom occur, and those distinctions are settled by custom. A savage would as willingly have his meat sent to him in the kitchen, as eat it at the table here; as men become civilized, various modes of denoting honourable preference are invented.’

  He this day made the observations upon the similarity between Rasselas and Candide, which I have inserted in its proper place, when considering his admirable philosophical Romance. He said Candide he thought had more power in it than any thing that Voltaire had written.

  He said, ‘the lyrical part of Horace never can be perfectly translated; so much of the excellence is in the numbers and the expression. Francis has done it the best; I’ll take his, five out of six, against them all.’

  On Sunday, May 17, I presented to him Mr. Fullarton, of Fullarton, who has since distinguished himself so much in India, to whom he naturally talked of travels, as Mr. Brydone accompanied him in his tour to Sicily and Malta. He said, ‘The information which we have from modern travellers is much more authentick than what we had from ancient travellers; ancient travellers guessed; modern travellers measure. The Swiss admit that there is but one errour in Stanyan. If Brydone were more attentive to his Bible, he would be a good traveller.’

  He said, ‘Lord Chatham was a Dictator; he possessed the power of putting the State in motion; now there is no power, all order is relaxed.’ BOSWELL. ‘Is there no hope of a change to the better?’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, yes, Sir, when we are weary of this relaxation. So the City of London will appoint its Mayors again by seniority.’ BOSWELL. ‘But is not that taking a mere chance for having a good or a bad Mayor?’ JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir; but the evil of competition is greater than that of the worst Mayor that can come; besides, there is no more reason to suppose that the choice of a rabble will be right, than that chance will be right.’

  On Tuesday, May 19, I was to set out for Scotland in the evening. He was engaged to dine with me at Mr. Dilly’s, I waited upon him to remind him of his appointment and attend him thither; he gave me some salutary counsel, and recommended vigorous resolution against any deviation from moral duty. BOSWELL. ‘But you would not have me to bind myself by a solemn obligation?’ JOHNSON, (much agitated) ‘What! a vow — O, no, Sir, a vow is a horrible thing, it is a snare for sin. The man who cannot go to Heaven without a vow — may go — .’ Here, standing erect, in the middle of his library, and rolling grand, his pause was truly a curious compound of the solemn and the ludicrous; he half-whistled in his usual way, when pleasant, and he paused, as if checked by religious awe. Methought he would have added — to Hell — but was restrained. I humoured the dilemma. ‘What! Sir, (said I,) In cælum jusseris ibit?’ alluding to his imitation of it, —

  ‘And bid him go to Hell, to Hell he goes.’

  I had mentioned to him a slight fault in his noble Imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, a too near recurrence of the verb spread, in his description of the young Enthusiast at College: —

  ‘Through all his veins the fever of renown,

  Spreads from the strong contagion of the gown;

  O’er Bodley’s dome his future labours spread,

  And Bacon’s mansion trembles o’er his head.’

  He had desired me to change spreads to burns, but for perfect authenticity, I now had it done with his own hand. I thought this alteration not only cured the fault, but was more poetical, as it might carry an allusion to the shirt by which Hercules was inflamed.

  We had a quiet comfortable meeting at Mr. Dilly’s; nobody there but ourselves. Mr. Dilly mentioned somebody having wished that Milton’s Tractate on Education should be printed along with his Poems in the edition of The English Poets then going on. JOHNSON. ‘It would be breaking in upon the plan; but would be of no great consequence. So far as it would be any thing, it would be wrong. Education in England has been in danger of being hurt by two of its greatest men, Milton and Locke. Milton’s plan is impracticable, and I suppose has never been tried. Locke’s, I fancy, has been tried often enough, but is very imperfect; it gives too much to one side, and too little to the other; it gives too little to literature. — I shall do what I can for Dr. Watts; but my materials are very scanty. His poems are by no means his best works; I cannot praise his poetry itself highly; but I can praise its design.’

  My illustrious friend and I parted with assurances of affectionate regard.

  I wrote to him on the 25th of May, from Thorpe in Yorkshire, one of the seats of Mr. Bosville, and gave him an account of my having passed a day at Lincoln, unexpectedly, and therefore without having any letters of introduction, but that I had been honoured with civilities from the Reverend Mr. Simpson, an acquaintance of his, and Captain Broadley, of the Lincolnshire Militia; but more particularly from the Reverend Dr. Gordon, the Chancellor, who first received me with great politeness as a stranger, and when I informed him who I was, entertained me at his house with the most flattering attention; I also expressed the pleasure with which I had found that our worthy friend Langton was highly esteemed in his own county town.

  ‘To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.

  ‘Edinburgh, June 18, 1778.

  ‘MY DEAR SIR,

  * * * * *

  ‘Since my return to Scotland, I have been again at Lanark, and have had more conversation with Thomson’s sister. It is strange that Murdoch, who was his intimate friend, should have mistaken his mother’s maiden name, which he says was Hume, whereas Hume was the name of his grandmother by the mother’s side. His mother’s name was Beatrix Trotter, a daughter of Mr. Trotter, of Fogo, a small proprietor of land. Thomson had one brother, whom he had with him in England as his amanuensis; but he was seized with a consumption, and having returned to Scotland, to try what his native air would do for him, died young. He had three sisters, one married to Mr. Bell, minister of the parish of Strathaven; one to Mr. Craig, father of the ingenious architect, who gave the plan of the New Town of Edinburgh; and one to Mr. Thomson, master of the grammar-school at Lanark. He was of a humane and benevolent disposition; not only sent valuable presents to his sisters, but a yearly allowance in money, and was always wishing to have it in his power to do them more good. Lord Lyttelton’s observation, that “he loathed much to write,” was very true. His letters to his sister, Mrs. Thomson, were not frequent, and in one of them he says, “All my friends who know me, know how backward I am to write letters; and never impute the negligence of my hand to the coldness of my heart.” I send you a copy of the last letter which she had from him; she never heard that he had any intention of going into holy orders. From this late interview with his sister, I think much more favourably of him, as I hope you will. I am eager to see more of your Prefaces to the Poets; I solace myself with the few proof-sheets which I have.

  ‘I send another parcel of Lord Hailes’s Annals, which you will please to return to me as soon as you conveniently can. He says, “he wishes you would cut a little deeper;” but he may be proud that there is so little occasion to use the critical knife. I ever am, my dear Sir,

  ‘Your faithful and affectionate,

  ‘humble servant,

  ‘JAMES BOSWELL.’

  Mr. Langton has been pleased, at my request, to favour me with some particulars of Dr. Johnson’s visit to Warley-camp, where this gentleman was at the time stationed as a Captain in the Lincolnshire militia. I shall give them in his own words in a letter to me.

  ‘It was in the summer of the year 1778, that he complied with my invitation to come down to the Camp at Warley, and he staid with me about a week; the scene appeared, notwithstanding a great degree of ill health that he seemed to labour un
der, to interest and amuse him, as agreeing with the disposition that I believe you know he constantly manifested towards enquiring into subjects of the military kind. He sate, with a patient degree of attention, to observe the proceedings of a regimental court-martial, that happened to be called, in the time of his stay with us; and one night, as late as at eleven o’clock, he accompanied the Major of the regiment in going what are styled the Rounds, where he might observe the forms of visiting the guards, for the seeing that they and their sentries are ready in their duty on their several posts. He took occasion to converse at times on military topicks, one in particular, that I see the mention of, in your Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, which lies open before me, as to gun-powder; which he spoke of to the same effect, in part, that you relate.

  ‘On one occasion, when the regiment were going through their exercise, he went quite close to the men at one of the extremities of it, and watched all their practices attentively; and, when he came away, his remark was, “The men indeed do load their muskets and fire with wonderful celerity.” He was likewise particular in requiring to know what was the weight of the musquet balls in use, and within what distance they might be expected to take effect when fired off.

  ‘In walking among the tents, and observing the difference between those of the officers and private men, he said that the superiority of accommodation of the better conditions of life, to that of the inferiour ones, was never exhibited to him in so distinct a view. The civilities paid to him in the camp were, from the gentlemen of the Lincolnshire regiment, one of the officers of which accommodated him with a tent in which he slept; and from General Hall, who very courteously invited him to dine with him, where he appeared to be very well pleased with his entertainment, and the civilities he received on the part of the General; the attention likewise, of the General’s aid-de-camp, Captain Smith, seemed to be very welcome to him, as appeared by their engaging in a great deal of discourse together. The gentlemen of the East York regiment likewise on being informed of his coming, solicited his company at dinner, but by that time he had fixed his departure, so that he could not comply with the invitation.’

  ‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

  ‘DEAR SIR,

  ‘I have received two letters from you, of which the second complains of the neglect shewn to the first. You must not tye your friends to such punctual correspondence. You have all possible assurances of my affection and esteem; and there ought to be no need of reiterated professions. When it may happen that I can give you either counsel or comfort, I hope it will never happen to me that I should neglect you; but you must not think me criminal or cold if I say nothing when I have nothing to say.

  ‘You are now happy enough. Mrs. Boswell is recovered; and I congratulate you upon the probability of her long life. If general approbation will add anything to your enjoyment, I can tell you that I have heard you mentioned as a man whom everybody likes. I think life has little more to give.

  ‘ —— has gone to his regiment. He has laid down his coach, and talks of making more contractions of his expence: how he will succeed I know not. It is difficult to reform a household gradually; it may be better done by a system totally new. I am afraid he has always something to hide. When we pressed him to go to —— , he objected the necessity of attending his navigation; yet he could talk of going to Aberdeen, a place not much nearer his navigation. I believe he cannot bear the thought of living at —— in a state of diminution; and of appearing among the gentlemen of the neighbourhood shorn of his beams. This is natural, but it is cowardly. What I told him of the encreasing expence of a growing family seems to have struck him. He certainly had gone on with very confused views, and we have, I think, shewn him that he is wrong; though, with the common deficiency of advisers, we have not shewn him how to do right.

  ‘I wish you would a little correct or restrain your imagination, and imagine that happiness, such as life admits, may be had at other places as well as London. Without asserting Stoicism, it may be said, that it is our business to exempt ourselves as much as we can from the power of external things. There is but one solid basis of happiness; and that is, the reasonable hope of a happy futurity. This may be had every where.

  ‘I do not blame your preference of London to other places, for it is really to be preferred, if the choice is free; but few have the choice of their place, or their manner of life; and mere pleasure ought not to be the prime motive of action.

  ‘Mrs. Thrale, poor thing, has a daughter. Mr. Thrale dislikes the times, like the rest of us. Mrs. Williams is sick; Mrs. Desmoulins is poor. I have miserable nights. Nobody is well but Mr. Levett.

  ‘I am, dear Sir, Your most, &c.

  ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

  ‘London, July 3, 1778.’

  In the course of this year there was a difference between him and his friend Mr. Strahan; the particulars of which it is unnecessary to relate. Their reconciliation was communicated to me in a letter from Mr. Strahan, in the following words: —

  ‘The notes I shewed you that passed between him and me were dated in March last. The matter lay dormant till July 27, when he wrote to me as follows:

  “To William Strahan, Esq.

  “Sir,

  “It would be very foolish for us to continue strangers any longer. You can never by persistency make wrong right. If I resented too acrimoniously, I resented only to yourself. Nobody ever saw or heard what I wrote. You saw that my anger was over, for in a day or two I came to your house. I have given you longer time; and I hope you have made so good use of it, as to be no longer on evil terms with, Sir,

  “Your, &c.

  “Sam. Johnson.”

  ‘On this I called upon him; and he has since dined with me.’

  After this time, the same friendship as formerly continued between Dr. Johnson and Mr. Strahan. My friend mentioned to me a little circumstance of his attention, which, though we may smile at it, must be allowed to have its foundation in a nice and true knowledge of human life. ‘When I write to Scotland, (said he,) I employ Strahan to frank my letters, that he may have the consequence of appearing a Parliament-man among his countrymen.’

  ‘To CAPTAIN LANGTON, WARLEY-CAMP.

  ‘DEAR SIR,

  ‘When I recollect how long ago I was received with so much kindness at Warley Common, I am ashamed that I have not made some enquiries after my friends.

  ‘Pray how many sheep-stealers did you convict? and how did you punish them? When are you to be cantoned in better habitations? The air grows cold, and the ground damp. Longer stay in the camp cannot be without much danger to the health of the common men, if even the officers can escape.

  ‘You see that Dr. Percy is now Dean of Carlisle; about five hundred a year, with a power of presenting himself to some good living. He is provided for.

  ‘The session of the CLUB is to commence with that of the Parliament. Mr. Banks desires to be admitted; he will be a very honourable accession.

  ‘Did the King please you? The Coxheath men, I think, have some reason to complain: Reynolds says your camp is better than theirs.

  ‘I hope you find yourself able to encounter this weather. Take care of your own health; and, as you can, of your men. Be pleased to make my compliments to all the gentlemen whose notice I have had, and whose kindness I have experienced.

  ‘I am, dear Sir,

  ‘Your most humble servant,

  ‘Sam. Johnson.’

  ‘October 31, 1778.’

  I wrote to him on the 18th of August, the 18th of September, and the 6th of November; informing him of my having had another son born, whom I had called James; that I had passed some time at Auchinleck; that the Countess of Loudoun, now in her ninety-ninth year, was as fresh as when he saw her, and remembered him with respect; and that his mother by adoption, the Countess of Eglintoune, had said to me, ‘Tell Mr. Johnson I love him exceedingly;’ that I had again suffered much from bad spirits; and that as it was very long since I heard from him, I was not a little uneasy.

 
The continuance of his regard for his friend Dr. Burney, appears from the following letters: —

  ‘To THE REVEREND DR. WHEELER, OXFORD.

  ‘DEAR SIR,

  ‘Dr. Burney, who brings this paper, is engaged in a History of Musick; and having been told by Dr. Markham of some MSS. relating to his subject, which are in the library of your College, is desirous to examine them. He is my friend; and therefore I take the liberty of intreating your favour and assistance in his enquiry: and can assure you, with great confidence, that if you knew him he would not want any intervenient solicitation to obtain the kindness of one who loves learning and virtue as you love them.

  ‘I have been flattering myself all the summer with the hope of paying my annual visit to my friends; but something has obstructed me: I still hope not to be long without seeing you. I should be glad of a little literary talk; and glad to shew you, by the frequency of my visits, how eagerly I love it, when you talk it.

  ‘I am, dear Sir,

  ‘Your most humble servant,

  ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

  ‘London, November 2, 1778.’

  ‘TO THE REVEREND DR. EDWARDS, OXFORD.

  ‘SIR,

  ‘The bearer, DR. BURNEY, has had some account of a Welsh Manuscript in the Bodleian library, from which he hopes to gain some materials for his History of Musick; but being ignorant of the language, is at a loss where to find assistance. I make no doubt but you, Sir, can help him through his difficulties, and therefore take the liberty of recommending him to your favour, as I am sure you will find him a man worthy of every civility that can be shewn, and every benefit that can be conferred.