Next morning I stated to Mrs. Thrale at breakfast, before he came down, the dispute of last night as to the influence of character upon success in life. She said he was certainly wrong; and told me, that a Baronet873 lost an election in Wales, because he had debauched the sister of a gentleman in the county, whom he made one of his daughters invite as her companion at his seat in the country, when his lady and his other children were in London. But she would not encounter Johnson upon the subject.
I staid all this day with him at Streatham. He talked a great deal, in very good humour.
Looking at Messrs. Dilly’s splendid edition of Lord Chesterfield’s miscellaneous works, he laughed, and said, ‘Here now are two speeches ascribed to him, both of which were written by me: and the best of it is, they have found out that one is like Demosthenes, and the other like Cicero.’
He censured Lord Kames’s Sketches of the History of Man, for misrepresenting Clarendon’s account of the appearance of Sir George Villiers’s ghost, as if Clarendon were weakly credulous; when the truth is, that Clarendon only says, that the story was upon a better foundation of credit, than usually such discourses are founded upon; nay, speaks thus of the person who was reported to have seen the vision, ‘the poor man, if he had been at all waking;’ which Lord Kames has omitted. He added, ‘in this book it is maintained that virtue is natural to man, and that if we would but consult our own hearts we should be virtuous. Now after consulting our own hearts all we can, and with all the helps we have, we find how few of us are virtuous. This is saying a thing which all mankind know not to be true.’ BOSWELL. ‘Is not modesty natural?’ JOHNSON. ‘I cannot say, Sir, as we find no people quite in a state of nature; but I think the more they are taught, the more modest they are. The French are a gross, ill-bred, untaught people; a lady there will spit on the floor and rub it with her foot. What I gained by being in France was, learning to be better satisfied with my own country. Time may be employed to more advantage from nineteen to twenty-four almost in any way than in travelling; when you set travelling against mere negation, against doing nothing, it is better to be sure; but how much more would a young man improve were he to study during those years. Indeed, if a young man is wild, and must run after women and bad company, it is better this should be done abroad, as, on his return, he can break off such connections, and begin at home a new man, with a character to form, and acquaintances to make. How little does travelling supply to the conversation of any man who has travelled? how little to Beauclerk?’ BOSWELL. ‘What say you to Lord –?’874 JOHNSON. ‘I never but once heard him talk of what he had seen, and that was of a large serpent in one of the Pyramids of Egypt.’ BOSWELL. ‘Well, I happened to hear him tell the same thing, which made me mention him.’
I talked of a country life. JOHNSON. ‘Were I to live in the country, I would not devote myself to the acquisition of popularity; I would live in a much better way, much more happily; I would have my time at my own command.’ BOSWELL. ‘But, Sir, is it not a sad thing to be at a distance from all our literary friends?’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, you will by and by have enough of this conversation, which now delights you so much.’
As he was a zealous friend of subordination, he was at all times watchful to repress the vulgar cant against the manners of the great; ‘High people, Sir, (said he,) are the best; take a hundred ladies of quality, you’ll find them better wives, better mothers, more willing to sacrifice their own pleasure to their children than a hundred other women. Tradeswomen (I mean the wives of tradesmen) in the city, who are worth from ten to fifteen thousand pounds, are the worst creatures upon the earth, grossly ignorant, and thinking viciousness fashionable. Farmers, I think, are often worthless fellows. Few lords will cheat; and, if they do, they’ll be ashamed of it: farmers cheat and are not ashamed of it: they have all the sensual vices too of the nobility, with cheating into the bargain. There is as much fornication and adultery among farmers as amongst noblemen.’ BOSWELL. ‘The notion of the world, Sir, however is, that the morals of women of quality are worse than those in lower stations.’ JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir, the licentiousness of one woman of quality makes more noise than that of a number of women in lower stations; then, Sir, you are to consider the malignity of women in the city against women of quality, which will make them believe any thing of them, such as that they call their coachmen to bed. No, Sir, so far as I have observed, the higher in rank, the richer ladies are, they are the better instructed and the more virtuous.’
This year the Reverend Mr. Horne published his Letter to Mr. Dunning on the English Particle; Johnson read it, and though not treated in it with sufficient respect, he had candour enough to say to Mr. Seward, ‘Were I to make a new edition of my Dictionary, I would adopt severala of Mr. Horne’s etymologies; I hope they did not put the dog in the pillory for his libel; he has too much literature for that.’
On Saturday, May 16, I dined with him at Mr. Beauclerk’s with Mr. Langton, Mr. Steevens, Dr. Higgins, and some others. I regret very feelingly every instance of my remissness in recording his memorabilia; I am afraid it is the condition of humanity (as Mr. Windham, of Norfolk, once observed to me, after having made an admirable speech in the House of Commons, which was highly applauded, but which he afterwards perceived might have been better:) ‘that we are more uneasy from thinking of our wants, than happy in thinking of our acquisitions.’ This is an unreasonable mode of disturbing our tranquillity, and should be corrected; let me then comfort myself with the large treasure of Johnson’s conversation which I have preserved for my own enjoyment and that of the world, and let me exhibit what I have upon each occasion, whether more or less, whether a bulse,876 or only a few sparks of a diamond.
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 arms877 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 puerilites dans la guerre.”878 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 evenin
g. 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 celum jusseris ibit?’879 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.a 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
‘MY DEAR SIR, ‘Edinburgh, June 18, 1778.
‘… 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 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 under, 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,a 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;b the attention likewise, of the General’s aide-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.
‘–881 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 –,882 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.883 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, shown him that he is wrong; though, with the common deficience of advisers, we have not shown 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 assertinga 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.
The Life of Samuel Johnson Page 110
