‘I have been kept away from you, I know not well how, and of these vexatious hindrances I know not when there will be an end. I therefore send you the poor dear Doctor’s epitaph. Read it first yourself; and if you then think it right, shew it to the Club. I am, you know, willing to be corrected. If you think any thing much amiss, keep it to yourself, till we come together. I have sent two copies, but prefer the card. The dates must be settled by Dr. Percy.
‘I am, Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘May 16, 1776.’
TO THE SAME.
‘SIR,
‘Miss Reynolds has a mind to send the Epitaph to Dr. Beattie; I am very willing, but having no copy, cannot immediately recollect it. She tells me you have lost it. Try to recollect and put down as much as you retain; you perhaps may have kept what I have dropped. The lines for which I am at a loss are something of _rerum civilium sive naturalium_.'[238] It was a sorry trick to lose it; help me if you can. I am, Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘June 22, 1776.
‘The gout grows better but slowly[239].’
It was, I think, after I had left London this year, that this Epitaph gave occasion to a _Remonstrance_ to the MONARCH OF LITERATURE, for an account of which I am indebted to Sir William Forbes, of Pitsligo.
That my readers may have the subject more fully and clearly before them, I shall first insert the Epitaph.
OLIVARII GOLDSMITH,
_Poetae, Physici, Historici,
Qui nullum fere scribendi genus
Non tetigit,
Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit.[240] Sive risus essent movendi,
Sive lacrymae,
Affectuum potens at lenis dominator: Ingenio sublimis, vividus, versatilis,
Oratione grandis, nitidus, venustus: Hoc monumento memoriam coluit
Sodalium amor,
Amicorum fides,
Lectorum veneratio.
Natus in Hibernia Forniae Longfordiensis, In loco cui nomen Pallas,
Nov. XXIX. MDCCXXXI[241];
Eblanae literis institutus;
Obiit Londini,
April IV, MDCCLXXIV.’
Sir William Forbes writes to me thus:–
‘I enclose the _Round Robin_. This _jeu d’esprit_ took its rise one day at dinner at our friend Sir Joshua Reynolds’s.[242] All the company present, except myself, were friends and acquaintance of Dr. Goldsmith[243]. The Epitaph, written for him by Dr. Johnson, became the subject of conversation, and various emendations were suggested, which it was agreed should be submitted to the Doctor’s consideration. But the question was, who should have the courage to propose them to him? At last it was hinted, that there could be no way so good as that of a _Round Robin_, as the sailors call it, which they make use of when they enter into a conspiracy, so as not to let it be known who puts his name first or last to the paper. This proposition was instantly assented to; and Dr. Barnard, Dean of Derry, now Bishop of Killaloe[244], drew up an address to Dr. Johnson on the occasion, replete with wit and humour, but which it was feared the Doctor might think treated the subject with too much levity. Mr. Burke then proposed the address as it stands in the paper in writing, to which I had the honour to officiate as clerk.
‘Sir Joshua agreed to carry it to Dr. Johnson, who received it with much good humour[245], and desired Sir Joshua to tell the gentlemen, that he would alter the Epitaph in any manner they pleased, as to the sense of it; but _he would never consent to disgrace the walls of Westminster Abbey_ with an English inscription.
‘I consider this _Round Robin_ as a species of literary curiosity worth preserving, as it marks, in a certain degree, Dr. Johnson’s character.’
My readers are presented with a faithful transcript of a paper, which I doubt not of their being desirous to see.
Sir William Forbes’s observation is very just. The anecdote now related proves, in the strongest manner, the reverence and awe with which Johnson was regarded, by some of the most eminent men of his time, in various departments, and even by such of them as lived most with him; while it also confirms what I have again and again inculcated, that he was by no means of that ferocious and irascible character which has been ignorantly imagined.
This hasty composition is also to be remarked as one of a thousand instances which evince the extraordinary promptitude of Mr. Burke; who while he is equal to the greatest things, can adorn the least; can, with equal facility, embrace the vast and complicated speculations of politicks, or the ingenious topicks of literary investigation.[246]
‘DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. BOSWELL.
‘MADAM,
‘You must not think me uncivil in omitting to answer the letter with which you favoured me some time ago. I imagined it to have been written without Mr. Boswell’s knowledge, and therefore supposed the answer to require, what I could not find, a private conveyance.
‘The difference with Lord Auchinleck is now over; and since young Alexander[247] has appeared, I hope no more difficulties will arise among you; for I sincerely wish you all happy. Do not teach the young ones to dislike me, as you dislike me yourself; but let me at least have Veronica’s kindness, because she is my acquaintance.
‘You will now have Mr. Boswell home; it is well that you have him; he has led a wild life. I have taken him to Lichfield, and he has followed Mr. Thrale to Bath. Pray take care of him, and tame him. The only thing in which I have the honour to agree with you is, in loving him; and while we are so much of a mind in a matter of so much importance, our other quarrels will, I hope, produce no great bitterness. I am, Madam,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘May 16, 1776.’
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, June 25, 1776.
‘You have formerly complained that my letters were too long. There is no danger of that complaint being made at present; for I find it difficult for me to write to you at all. [Here an account of having been afflicted with a return of melancholy or bad spirits.]
‘The boxes of books[248] which you sent to me are arrived; but I have not yet examined the contents.
* * * * *
‘I send you Mr. Maclaurin’s paper for the negro, who claims his freedom in the Court of Session.[249]’
‘DR. JOHNSON TO MR. BOSWELL.
‘Dear Sir,
‘These black fits, of which you complain, perhaps hurt your memory as well as your imagination. When did I complain that your letters were too long[250]? Your last letter, after a very long delay, brought very bad news. [Here a series of reflections upon melancholy, and–what I could not help thinking strangely unreasonable in him who had suffered so much from it himself,–a good deal of severity and reproof, as if it were owing to my own fault, or that I was, perhaps, affecting it from a desire of distinction.]
‘Read Cheyne’s _English Malady_;[251] but do not let him teach you a foolish notion that melancholy is a proof of acuteness.
‘To hear that you have not opened your boxes of books is very offensive. The examination and arrangement of so many volumes might have afforded you an amusement very seasonable at present, and useful for the whole of life. I am, I confess, very angry that you manage yourself so ill.[252]
‘I do not now say any more, than that I am, with great kindness, and sincerity, dear Sir,
‘Your humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘July 2, 1776.’
‘It was last year[253] determined by Lord Mansfield, in the Court of King’s Bench, that a negro cannot be taken out of the kingdom without his own consent.’
‘DR. JOHNSON TO MR. BOSWELL.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I make haste to write again, lest my last letter should give you too much pain. If you are really oppressed with overpowering and involuntary melancholy, you are to be pitied rather than reproached.
* * * * *
‘Now, my dear Bozzy, let us have done with quarrels and with censure. Let me know whether I have not sent you a pretty library. There are, perhaps, many books among them which you never need read through; but there are none which it is not proper for you to know, and sometimes to consult. Of these books, of which the use is only occasional, it is often sufficient to know the contents, that, when any question arises, you may know where to look for information.
‘Since I wrote, I have looked over Mr. Maclaurin’s plea, and think it excellent. How is the suit carried on? If by subscription, I commission you to contribute, in my name, what is proper. Let nothing be wanting in such a case. Dr. Drummond[254], I see, is superseded. His father would have grieved; but he lived to obtain the pleasure of his son’s election, and died before that pleasure was abated.
‘Langton’s lady has brought him a girl, and both are well; I dined with him the other day.
‘It vexes me to tell you, that on the evening of the 29th of May I was seized by the gout, and am not quite well. The pain has not been violent, but the weakness and tenderness were very troublesome, and what is said to be very uncommon, it has not alleviated my other disorders. Make use of youth and health while you have them; make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell. I am, my dear Sir,
‘Your most affectionate
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘July 6[255], 1776.’
‘Mr. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, July 18, 1776.
‘MY DEAR SIR,
‘Your letter of the second of this month was rather a harsh medicine; but I was delighted with that spontaneous tenderness, which, a few days afterwards, sent forth such balsam as your next brought me. I found myself for some time so ill that all I could do was to preserve a decent appearance, while all within was weakness and distress. Like a reduced garrison that has some spirit left, I hung out flags, and planted all the force I could muster, upon the walls. I am now much better, and I sincerely thank you for your kind attention and friendly counsel.
* * * * *
‘Count Manucci[256] came here last week from travelling in Ireland. I have shewn him what civilities I could on his own account, on yours, and on that of Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. He has had a fall from his horse, and been much hurt. I regret this unlucky accident, for he seems to be a very amiable man.’
As the evidence of what I have mentioned at the beginning of this year, I select from his private register the following passage:
‘July 25, 1776. O GOD, who hast ordained that whatever is to be desired should be sought by labour, and who, by thy blessing, bringest honest labour to good effect, look with mercy upon my studies and endeavours. Grant me, O LORD, to design only what is lawful and right; and afford me calmness of mind, and steadiness of purpose, that I may so do thy will in this short life, as to obtain happiness in the world to come, for the sake of JESUS CHRIST our Lord. Amen.[257]
It appears from a note subjoined, that this was composed when he ‘purposed to apply vigorously to study, particularly of the Greek and Italian tongues.’
Such a purpose, so expressed, at the age of sixty-seven, is admirable and encouraging; and it must impress all the thinking part of my readers with a consolatory confidence in habitual devotion, when they see a man of such enlarged intellectual powers as Johnson, thus in the genuine earnestness of secrecy, imploring the aid of that Supreme Being, ‘from whom cometh down every good and every perfect gift[258].’
‘TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
‘SIR,
‘A young man, whose name is Paterson, offers himself this evening to the Academy. He is the son of a man[259] for whom I have long had a kindness, and who is now abroad in distress. I shall be glad that you will be pleased to shew him any little countenance, or pay him any small distinction. How much it is in your power to favour or to forward a young man I do not know; nor do I know how much this candidate deserves favour by his personal merit, or what hopes his proficiency may now give of future eminence. I recommend him as the son of my friend. Your character and station enable you to give a young man great encouragement by very easy means. You have heard of a man who asked no other favour of Sir Robert Walpole, than that he would bow to him at his levee.
‘I am, Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘Aug. 3, 1776.’
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, August 30, 1776.
[After giving him an account of my having examined the chests of books which he had sent to me, and which contained what may be truely called a numerous and miscellaneous _Stall Library_, thrown together at random:–]
‘Lord Hailes was against the decree in the case of my client, the minister;[260] not that he justified the minister, but because the parishioner both provoked and retorted. I sent his Lordship your able argument upon the case for his perusal. His observation upon it in a letter to me was, “Dr. Johnson’s _Suasorium_ is pleasantly[261] and artfully composed. I suspect, however, that he has not convinced himself; for, I believe that he is better read in ecclesiastical history, than to imagine that a Bishop or a Presbyter has a right to begin censure or discipline _e cathedra[262]_.”
* * * * *
‘For the honour of Count Manucci, as well as to observe that exactness of truth which you have taught me, I must correct what I said in a former letter. He did not fall from his horse, which might have been an imputation on his skill as an officer of cavalry; his horse fell with him.
‘I have, since I saw you, read every word of Granger’s _Biographical History_. It has entertained me exceedingly, and I do not think him the _Whig_ that you supposed.[263] Horace Walpole’s being his patron[264] is, indeed, no good sign of his political principles. But he denied to Lord Mountstuart that he was a Whig, and said he had been accused by both parties of partiality. It seems he was like Pope,
“While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory[265].”
‘I wish you would look more into his book; and as Lord Mountstuart wishes much to find a proper person to continue the work upon Granger’s plan, and has desired I would mention it to you; if such a man occurs, please to let me know. His Lordship will give him generous encouragement.’
‘TO MR. ROBERT LEVETT.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘Having spent about six weeks at this place, we have at length resolved upon returning. I expect to see you all in Fleet-street on the 30th of this month.
‘I did not go into the sea till last Friday[266], but think to go most of this week, though I know not that it does me any good. My nights are very restless and tiresome, but I am otherwise well.
‘I have written word of my coming to Mrs. Williams. Remember me kindly to Francis and Betsy. I am, Sir,
‘Your humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON[267].’
‘Brighthelmstone[268], Oct. 21, 1776’
I again wrote to Dr. Johnson on the 21st of October, informing him, that my father had, in the most liberal manner, paid a large debt for me[269], and that I had now the happiness of being upon very good terms with him; to which he returned the following answer.
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I had great pleasure in hearing that you are at last on good terms with your father[270]. Cultivate his kindness by all honest and manly means. Life is but short; no time can be afforded but for the indulgence of real sorrow, or contests upon questions seriously momentous. Let us not throw away any of our days upon useless resentment, or contend who shall hold out longest in stubborn malignity. It is best not to be angry; and best, in the next place, to be quickly reconciled. May you and your father pass the remainder of your time in reciprocal benevolence!
* * * * *
‘Do you ever hear from Mr. Langton? I visit him sometimes, but he does not talk. I do not like his scheme of life[271]; but as I am not permitted to understand it, I cannot set any thing right that is wrong. His children are sweet babies.
‘I hope my irreconcileable enemy, Mrs. Boswell, is well. Desire her not to transmit her malevolence to the young people. Let me have Alexander, and Veronica, and Euphemia, for my friends.
‘Mrs. Williams, whom you may reckon as one of your well-wishers, is in a feeble and languishing state, with little hope of growing better. She went for some part of the autumn into the country, but is little benefited; and Dr. Lawrence confesses that his art is at an end. Death is, however, at a distance; and what more than that can we say of ourselves? I am sorry for her pain, and more sorry for her decay. Mr. Levett is sound, wind and limb.
‘I was some weeks this autumn at Brighthelmstone. The place was very dull, and I was not well; the expedition to the Hebrides was the most pleasant journey that I ever made[272]. Such an effort annually would give the world a little diversification.
‘Every year, however, we cannot wander, and must therefore endeavour to spend our time at home as well as we can. I believe it is best to throw life into a method, that every hour may bring its employment, and every employment have its hour. Xenophon observes, in his _Treatise of Oeconomy_[273], that if every thing be kept in a certain place, when any thing is worn out or consumed, the vacuity which it leaves will shew what is wanting; so if every part of time has its duty, the hour will call into remembrance its proper engagement.
‘I have not practised all this prudence myself, but I have suffered much for want of it; and I would have you, by timely recollection and steady resolution, escape from those evils which have lain heavy upon me[274]. I am, my dearest Boswell,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘Bolt-court, Nov. 16, 1776.’
On the 16th of November I informed him that Mr. Strahan had sent me _twelve_ copies of the _Journey to the Western Islands_, handsomely bound, instead of the _twenty_ copies which were stipulated[275]; but which, I supposed, were to be only in sheets; requested to know how they should be distributed: and mentioned that I had another son born to me, who was named David, and was a sickly infant.
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I have been for some time ill of a cold, which, perhaps, I made an excuse to myself for not writing, when in reality I knew not what to say.
‘The books you must at last distribute as you think best, in my name, or your own, as you are inclined, or as you judge most proper. Every body cannot be obliged; but I wish that nobody may be offended. Do the best you can.
‘I congratulate you on the increase of your family, and hope that little David is by this time well, and his mamma perfectly recovered. I am much pleased to hear of the re-establishment of kindness between you and your father. Cultivate his paternal tenderness as much as you can. To live at variance at all is uncomfortable; and variance with a father is still more uncomfortable. Besides that, in the whole dispute you have the wrong side; at least you gave the first provocations, and some of them very offensive[276]. Let it now be all over. As you have no reason to think that your new mother has shewn you any foul play, treat her with respect, and with some degree of confidence; this will secure your father. When once a discordant family has felt the pleasure of peace, they will not willingly lose it. If Mrs. Boswell would but be friends with me, we might now shut the temple of Janus.
‘What came of Dr. Memis’s cause[277]? Is the question about the negro determined[278]? Has Sir Allan any reasonable hopes[279]? What is become of poor Macquarry[280]? Let me know the event of all these litigations. I wish particularly well to the negro and Sir Allan.
‘Mrs. Williams has been much out of order; and though she is something better, is likely, in her physician’s opinion, to endure her malady for life, though she may, perhaps, die of some other. Mrs. Thrale is big, and fancies that she carries a boy; if it were very reasonable to wish much about it, I should wish her not to be disappointed. The desire of male heirs is not appendant only to feudal tenures. A son is almost necessary to the continuance of Thrale’s fortune; for what can misses do with a brewhouse? Lands are fitter for daughters than trades[281].
‘Baretti went away from Thrale’s in some whimsical fit of disgust, or ill-nature, without taking any leave[282]. It is well if he finds in any other place as good an habitation, and as many conveniencies. He has got five-and-twenty guineas by translating Sir Joshua’s _Discourses_ into Italian, and Mr. Thrale gave him an hundred in the spring[283]; so that he is yet in no difficulties.
‘Colman has bought Foote’s patent, and is to allow Foote for life sixteen hundred pounds a year, as Reynolds told me, and to allow him to play so often on such terms that he may gain four hundred pounds more[284]. What Colman can get by this bargain, but trouble and hazard, I do not see. I am, dear Sir,
‘Your humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘Dec. 21, 1776.’
The Reverend Dr. Hugh Blair, who had long been admired as a preacher at Edinburgh, thought now of diffusing his excellent sermons more extensively, and encreasing his reputation, by publishing a collection of them. He transmitted the manuscript to Mr. Strahan, the printer, who after keeping it for some time, wrote a letter to him, discouraging the publication[285]. Such at first was the unpropitious state of one of the most successful theological books that has ever appeared. Mr. Strahan, however, had sent one of the sermons to Dr. Johnson for his opinion; and after his unfavourable letter to Dr. Blair had been sent off, he received from Johnson on Christmas-eve, a note in which was the following paragraph:
‘I have read over Dr. Blair’s first sermon with more than approbation; to say it is good, is to say too little[286].’
I believe Mr. Strahan had very soon after this time a conversation with Dr. Johnson concerning them; and then he very candidly wrote again to Dr. Blair, enclosing Johnson’s note, and agreeing to purchase the volume, for which he and Mr. Cadell gave one hundred pounds. The sale was so rapid and extensive, and the approbation of the publick so high, that to their honour be it recorded, the proprietors made Dr. Blair a present first of one sum, and afterwards of another, of fifty pounds, thus voluntarily doubling the stipulated price; and when he prepared another volume, they gave him at once three hundred pounds, being in all five hundred pounds, by an agreement to which I am a subscribing witness; and now for a third octavo volume he has received no less than six hundred pounds.
1777: AETAT. 68.–In 1777, it appears from his _Prayers and Meditations_, that Johnson suffered much from a state of mind ‘unsettled and perplexed[287],’ and from that constitutional gloom, which, together with his extreme humility and anxiety with regard to his religious state, made him contemplate himself through too dark and unfavourable a medium. It may be said of him, that he ‘saw GOD in clouds[288].’ Certain we may be of his injustice to himself in the following lamentable paragraph, which it is painful to think came from the contrite heart of this great man, to whose labours the world is so much indebted:
‘When I survey my past life, I discover nothing but a barren waste of time, with some disorders of body, and disturbances of the mind, very near to madness,[289] which I hope He that made me will suffer to extenuate many faults, and excuse many deficiencies[290].’
But we find his devotions in this year eminently fervent; and we are comforted by observing intervals of quiet, composure, and gladness.
On Easter-day we find the following emphatick prayer:
‘Almighty and most merciful Father, who seest all our miseries, and knowest all our necessities, look down upon me, and pity me. Defend me from the violent incursion [incursions] of evil thoughts, and enable me to form and keep such resolutions as may conduce to the discharge of the duties which thy providence shall appoint me; and so help me, by thy Holy Spirit, that my heart may surely there be fixed, where true joys are to be found, and that I may serve thee with pure affection and a cheerful mind. Have mercy upon me, O GOD, have mercy upon me; years and infirmities oppress me, terrour and anxiety beset me. Have mercy upon me, my Creator and my Judge. [In all dangers protect me.] In all perplexities relieve and free me; and so help me by thy Holy Spirit, that I may now so commemorate the death of thy Son our Saviour JESUS CHRIST, as that when this short and painful life shall have an end, I may, for his sake, be received to everlasting happiness. Amen[291].’
While he was at church, the agreeable impressions upon his mind are thus commemorated:
‘I was for some time distressed, but at last obtained, I hope from the GOD of Peace, more quiet than I have enjoyed for a long time. I had made no resolution, but as my heart grew lighter, my hopes revived, and my courage increased; and I wrote with my pencil in my Common Prayer Book,
“Vita ordinanda.
Biblia legenda.
Theologiae opera danda.
Serviendum et laetandum[292].”‘
Mr. Steevens whose generosity is well known, joined Dr. Johnson in kind assistance to a female relation of Dr. Goldsmith, and desired that on her return to Ireland she would procure authentick particulars of the life of her celebrated relation[293]. Concerning her there is the following letter:–
‘To GEORGE STEEVENS, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘You will be glad to hear that from Mrs. Goldsmith, whom we lamented as drowned, I have received a letter full of gratitude to us all, with promise to make the enquiries which we recommended to her.
‘I would have had the honour of conveying this intelligence to Miss Caulfield, but that her letter is not at hand, and I know not the direction. You will tell the good news.
‘I am, Sir,
‘Your most, &c.
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘February 25, 1777.’
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, Feb. 14, 1777.
‘My Dear Sir,
‘My state of epistolary accounts with you at present is extraordinary. The balance, as to number, is on your side. I am indebted to you for two letters; one dated the 16th of November, upon which very day I wrote to you, so that our letters were exactly exchanged, and one dated the 21st of December last.
‘My heart was warmed with gratitude by the truely kind contents of both of them; and it is amazing and vexing that I have allowed so much time to elapse without writing to you. But delay is inherent in me, by nature or by bad habit. I waited till I should have an opportunity of paying you my compliments on a new year. I have procrastinated till the year is no longer new.
* * * * *
‘Dr. Memis’s cause was determined against him, with L40 costs. The Lord President, and two other of the Judges, dissented from the majority, upon this ground;–that although there may have been no intention to injure him by calling him _Doctor of Medicine_, instead of _Physician_, yet, as he remonstrated against the designation before the charter was printed off, and represented that it was disagreeable, and even hurtful to him, it was ill-natured to refuse to alter it, and let him have the designation to which he was certainly entitled. My own opinion is, that our court has judged wrong. The defendants were _in mala fide_, to persist in naming him in a way that he disliked. You remember poor Goldsmith, when he grew important, and wished to appear _Doctor Major_ [294], could not bear your calling him _Goldy_[295]. Would it not have been wrong to have named him so in your _Preface to Shakspeare_, or in any serious permanent writing of any sort? The difficulty is, whether an action should be allowed on such petty wrongs. _De minimis non curat lex_.
‘The Negro cause is not yet decided. A memorial is preparing on the side of slavery. I shall send you a copy as soon as it is printed. Maclaurin is made happy by your approbation of his memorial for the black.
‘Macquarry was here in the winter, and we passed an evening together. The sale of his estate cannot be prevented.
‘Sir Allan Maclean’s suit against the Duke of Argyle, for recovering the ancient inheritance of his family, is now fairly before all our judges. I spoke for him yesterday, and Maclaurin to-day; Crosbie spoke to-day against him. Three more counsel are to be heard, and next week the cause will be determined. I send you the _Informations_, or _Cases_, on each side, which I hope you will read. You said to me when we were under Sir Allan’s hospitable roof, “I will help him with my pen.” You said it with a generous glow; and though his Grace of Argyle did afterwards mount you upon an excellent horse, upon which “you looked like a Bishop[296],” you must not swerve from your purpose at Inchkenneth. I wish you may understand the points at issue, amidst our Scotch law principles and phrases.
[Here followed a full state of the case, in which I endeavoured to make it as clear as I could to an Englishman, who had no knowledge of the formularies and technical language of the law of Scotland.]
‘I shall inform you how the cause is decided here. But as it may be brought under the review of our Judges, and is certainly to be carried by appeal to the House of Lords, the assistance of such a mind as yours will be of consequence. Your paper on _Vicious Intromission_[297] is a noble proof of what you can do even in Scotch law.
* * * * *
‘I have not yet distributed all your books. Lord Hailes and Lord Monboddo have each received one, and return you thanks. Monboddo dined with me lately, and having drank tea, we were a good while by ourselves, and as I knew that he had read the _Journey_ superficially, as he did not talk of it as I wished, I brought it to him, and read aloud several passages; and then he talked so, that I told him he was to have a copy _from the authour_. He begged _that_ might be marked on it.
* * * * *
‘I ever am, my dear Sir,
‘Your most faithful,
‘And affectionate humble servant,
‘JAMES BOSWELL.’
‘SIR ALEXANDER DICK TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
‘Prestonfield, Feb. 17, 1777.
‘Sir,
‘I had yesterday the honour of receiving your book of your _Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland_, which you was so good as to send me, by the hands of our mutual friend[298], Mr. Boswell, of Auchinleck; for which I return you my most hearty thanks; and after carefully reading it over again, shall deposit in my little collection of choice books, next our worthy friend’s _Journey to Corsica_. As there are many things to admire in both performances, I have often wished that no Travels or Journeys should be published but those undertaken by persons of integrity and capacity to judge well, and describe faithfully, and in good language, the situation, condition, and manners of the countries past through. Indeed our country of Scotland, in spite of the union of the crowns, is still in most places so devoid of clothing, or cover from hedges and plantations, that it was well you gave your readers a sound _Monitoire_ with respect to that circumstance. The truths you have told, and the purity of the language in which they are expressed, as your _Journey_ is universally read, may, and already appear to have a very good effect. For a man of my acquaintance, who has the largest nursery for trees and hedges in this country, tells me, that of late the demand upon him for these articles is doubled, and sometimes tripled. I have, therefore, listed Dr. Samuel Johnson in some of my memorandums of the principal planters and favourers of the enclosures, under a name which I took the liberty to invent from the Greek, _Papadendrion_[299]. Lord Auchinleck and some few more are of the list. I am told that one gentleman in the shire of Aberdeen, _viz_. Sir Archibald Grant, has planted above fifty millions of trees on a piece of very wild ground at Monimusk: I must enquire if he has fenced them well, before he enters my list; for, that is the soul of enclosing. I began myself to plant a little, our ground being too valuable for much, and that is now fifty years ago; and the trees, now in my seventy-fourth year, I look up to with reverence, and shew them to my eldest son now in his fifteenth year, and they are full the height of my country-house here, where I had the pleasure of receiving you, and hope again to have that satisfaction with our mutual friend, Mr. Boswell. I shall always continue, with the truest esteem, dear Doctor,
‘Your much obliged,
‘And obedient humble servant,
‘ALEXANDER DICK[300].’
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, Esq.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘It is so long since I heard any thing from you[301], that I am not easy about it; write something to me next post. When you sent your last letter, every thing seemed to be mending; I hope nothing has lately grown worse. I suppose young Alexander continues to thrive, and Veronica is now very pretty company. I do not suppose the lady is yet reconciled to me, yet let her know that I love her very well, and value her very much.
‘Dr. Blair is printing some sermons. If they are all like the first, which I have read, they are _sermones aurei, ac auro magis aurei_. It is excellently written both as to doctrine and language. Mr. Watson’s book[302] seems to be much esteemed.
* * * * *
‘Poor Beauclerk still continues very ill[303]. Langton lives on as he used to do[304]. His children are very pretty, and, I think, his lady loses her Scotch. Paoli I never see.
‘I have been so distressed by difficulty of breathing, that I lost, as was computed, six-and-thirty ounces of blood in a few days[305]. I am better, but not well.
‘I wish you would be vigilant and get me Graham’s _Telemachus_[306] that was printed at Glasgow, a very little book; and _Johnstoni Poemata_[307], another little book, printed at Middleburgh.
‘Mrs. Williams sends her compliments, and promises that when you come hither, she will accommodate you as well as ever she can in the old room[308]. She wishes to know whether you sent her book[309] to Sir Alexander Gordon[310].
‘My dear Boswell, do not neglect to write to me; for your kindness is one of the pleasures of my life, which I should be sorry to lose.
‘I am, Sir,
‘Your humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘February 18, 1777.’
‘To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, Feb. 24, 1777.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘Your letter dated the 18th instant, I had the pleasure to receive last post. Although my late long neglect, or rather delay, was truely culpable, I am tempted not to regret it, since it has produced me so valuable a proof of your regard. I did, indeed, during that inexcusable silence, sometimes divert the reproaches of my own mind, by fancying that I should hear again from you, inquiring with some anxiety about me, because, for aught you knew, I might have been ill.
‘You are pleased to shew me, that my kindness is of some consequence to you. My heart is elated at the thought. Be assured, my dear Sir, that my affection and reverence for you are exalted and steady. I do not believe that a more perfect attachment ever existed in the history of mankind. And it is a noble attachment; for the attractions are Genius, Learning, and Piety.
‘Your difficulty of breathing alarms me, and brings into my imagination an event, which although in the natural course of things, I must expect at some period, I cannot view with composure.
* * * * *
‘My wife is much honoured by what you say of her. She begs you may accept of her best compliments. She is to send you some marmalade of oranges of her own making.
* * * * *
‘I ever am, my dear Sir,
‘Your most obliged
‘And faithful humble servant,
‘JAMES BOSWELL.’
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I have been much pleased with your late letter, and am glad that my old enemy Mrs. Boswell, begins to feel some remorse. As to Miss Veronica’s Scotch, I think it cannot be helped. An English maid you might easily have; but she would still imitate the greater number, as they would be likewise those whom she must most respect. Her dialect will not be gross. Her Mamma has not much Scotch, and you have yourself very little. I hope she knows my name, and does not call me _Johnston_[311].
‘The immediate cause of my writing is this:–One Shaw[312], who seems a modest and a decent man, has written an _Erse Grammar_, which a very learned Highlander, Macbean[313], has, at my request, examined and approved.
‘The book is very little, but Mr. Shaw has been persuaded by his friends to set it at half a guinea, though I advised only a crown, and thought myself liberal. You, whom the authour considers as a great encourager of ingenious men, will receive a parcel of his proposals and receipts. I have undertaken to give you notice of them, and to solicit your countenance. You must ask no poor man, because the price is really too high. Yet such a work deserves patronage.
‘It is proposed to augment our club from twenty to thirty, of which I am glad; for as we have several in it whom I do not much like to consort with[314], I am for reducing it to a mere miscellaneous collection of conspicuous men, without any determinate character.
* * * * *
‘I am, dear Sir,
‘Most affectionately your’s,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘March 11, 1777.’
‘My respects to Madam, to Veronica, to Alexander, to Euphemia, to David.’
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, April 4, 1777.
[After informing him of the death of my little son David, and that I could not come to London this spring:–]
‘I think it hard that I should be a whole year without seeing you. May I presume to petition for a meeting with you in the autumn? You have, I believe, seen all the cathedrals in England, except that of Carlisle. If you are to be with Dr. Taylor, at Ashbourne, it would not be a great journey to come thither. We may pass a few most agreeable days there by ourselves, and I will accompany you a good part of the way to the southward again. Pray think of this.
‘You forget that Mr. Shaw’s _Erse Grammar_ was put into your hands by myself last year. Lord Eglintoune put it into mine. I am glad that Mr. Macbean approves of it. I have received Mr. Shaw’s Proposals for its publication, which I can perceive are written _by the hand of a_ MASTER.
* * * * *
‘Pray get for me all the editions of _Walton’s Lives_: I have a notion that the republication of them with Notes will fall upon me, between Dr. Home and Lord Hailes[315].’
Mr. Shaw’s Proposals[dagger] for _An Analysis of the Scotch Celtick Language_, were thus illuminated by the pen of Johnson:
‘Though the Erse dialect of the Celtick language has, from the earliest times, been spoken in Britain, and still subsists in the northern parts and adjacent islands, yet, by the negligence of a people rather warlike than lettered, it has hitherto been left to the caprice and judgement of every speaker, and has floated in the living voice, without the steadiness of analogy, or direction of rules. An Erse Grammar is an addition to the stores of literature; and its authour hopes for the indulgence always shewn to those that attempt to do what was never done before. If his work shall be found defective, it is at least all his own: he is not like other grammarians, a compiler or transcriber; what he delivers, he has learned by attentive observation among his countrymen, who perhaps will be themselves surprized to see that speech reduced to principles, which they have used only by imitation.
‘The use of this book will, however, not be confined to the mountains and islands; it will afford a pleasing and important subject of speculation, to those whose studies lead them to trace the affinity of languages, and the migrations of the ancient races, of mankind.’
‘To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
‘Glasgow, April 24, 1777.
‘MY DEAR SIR,
‘Our worthy friend Thrale’s death having appeared in the newspapers, and been afterwards contradicted, I have been placed in a state of very uneasy uncertainty, from which I hoped to be relieved by you: but my hopes have as yet been vain. How could you omit to write to me on such an occasion? I shall wait with anxiety.
‘I am going to Auchinleck to stay a fortnight with my father. It is better not to be there very long at one time. But frequent renewals of attention are agreeable to him.
‘Pray tell me about this edition of “_The English Poets_, with a Preface, biographical and critical, to each Authour, by Samuel Johnson, LL.D.” which I see advertised. I am delighted with the prospect of it. Indeed I am happy to feel that I am capable of being so much delighted with literature.[316] But is not the charm of this publication chiefly owing to the _magnum nomen_ in the front of it?
‘What do you say of Lord Chesterfield’s _Memoirs and last Letters_?[317]
‘My wife has made marmalade of oranges for you. I left her and my daughters and Alexander all well yesterday. I have taught Veronica to speak of you thus;–Dr. John_son_, not Jon_ston_.
‘I remain, my dear Sir,
‘Your most affectionate,
‘And obliged humble servant,
‘JAMES BOSWELL.’
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘The story of Mr. Thrale’s death, as he had neither been sick nor in any other danger, made so little impression upon me, that I never thought about obviating its effects on any body else. It is supposed to have been produced by the English custom of making April fools, that is, of sending one another on some foolish errand on the first of April.
‘Tell Mrs. Boswell that I shall taste her marmalade cautiously at first. _Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes_.[318] Beware, says the Italian proverb, of a reconciled enemy. But when I find it does me no harm, I shall then receive it and be thankful for it, as a pledge of firm, and, I hope, of unalterable kindness. She is, after all, a dear, dear lady.
‘Please to return Dr. Blair thanks for his sermons. The Scotch write English wonderfully well.
‘Your frequent visits to Auchinleck, and your short stay there, are very laudable and very judicious. Your present concord with your father gives me great pleasure; it was all that you seemed to want.
‘My health is very bad, and my nights are very unquiet.[319] What can I do to mend them? I have for this summer nothing better in prospect than a journey into Staffordshire and Derbyshire, perhaps with Oxford and Birmingham in my way.
‘Make my compliments to Miss Veronica; I must leave it to _her_ philosophy to comfort you for the loss of little David. You must remember, that to keep three out of four is more than your share. Mrs. Thrale has but four out of eleven.[320]
‘I am engaged to write little Lives, and little Prefaces, to a little edition of _The English Poets_. I think I have persuaded the book-sellers to insert something of Thomson; and if you could give me some information about him, for the life which we have is very scanty, I should be glad. I am, dear Sir,
‘Your most affectionate humble servant, ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘May 3, 1777.’
To those who delight in tracing the progress of works of literature, it will be an entertainment to compare the limited design with the ample execution of that admirable performance, _The Lives of the English Poets_, which is the richest, most beautiful and indeed most perfect production of Johnson’s pen. His notion of it at this time appears in the preceding letter. He has a memorandum in this year, ’29 May[321], Easter Eve, I treated with booksellers on a bargain, but the time was not long[322].’ The bargain was concerning that undertaking; but his tender conscience seems alarmed lest it should have intruded too much on his devout preparation for the solemnity of the ensuing day. But, indeed, very little time was necessary for Johnson’s concluding a treaty with the booksellers; as he had, I believe, less attention to profit from his labours than any man to whom literature has been a profession.[323] I shall here insert from a letter to me from my late worthy friend Mr. Edward Dilly, though of a later date, an account of this plan so happily conceived; since it was the occasion of procuring for us an elegant collection of the best biography and criticism of which our language can boast.
‘TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘Southill, Sept. 26, 1777.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘You will find by this letter, that I am still in the same calm retreat, from the noise and bustle of London, as when I wrote to you last. I am happy to find you had such an agreeable meeting with your old friend Dr. Johnson; I have no doubt your stock is much increased by the interview; few men, nay I may say, scarcely any man, has got that fund of knowledge and entertainment as Dr. Johnson in conversation. When he opens freely, every one is attentive to what he says, and cannot fail of improvement as well as pleasure.
‘The edition of _The Poets_, now printing, will do honour to the English press; and a concise account of the life of each authour, by Dr. Johnson, will be a very valuable addition, and stamp the reputation of this edition superiour to any thing that is gone before. The first cause that gave rise to this undertaking, I believe, was owing to the little trifling edition of _The Poets_, printing by the Martins, at Edinburgh, and to be sold by Bell, in London. Upon examining the volumes which were printed, the type was found so extremely small, that many persons could not read them; not only this inconvenience attended it, but the inaccuracy of the press was very conspicuous. These reasons, as well as the idea of an invasion of what we call our Literary Property[324], induced the London Booksellers to print an elegant and accurate edition of all the English Poets of reputation, from Chaucer to the present time.
‘Accordingly a select number of the most respectable booksellers met on the occasion; and, on consulting together, agreed, that all the proprietors of copy-right in the various Poets should be summoned together; and when their opinions were given, to proceed immediately on the business. Accordingly a meeting was held, consisting of about forty of the most respectable booksellers of London, when it was agreed that an elegant and uniform edition of _The English Poets_ should be immediately printed, with a concise account of the life of each authour, by Dr. Samuel Johnson; and that three persons should be deputed to wait upon Dr. Johnson, to solicit him to undertake the Lives, _viz_., T. Davies, Strahan, and Cadell. The Doctor very politely undertook it, and seemed exceedingly pleased with the proposal. As to the terms, it was left entirely to the Doctor to name his own: he mentioned two hundred guineas[325]: it was immediately agreed to; and a farther compliment, I believe, will be made him.[326] A committee was likewise appointed to engage the best engravers, _viz_., Bartolozzi, Sherwin, Hall, etc. Likewise another committee for giving directions about the paper, printing, etc., so that the whole will be conducted with spirit, and in the best manner, with respect to authourship, editorship, engravings, etc., etc. My brother will give you a list of the Poets we mean to give, many of which are within the time of the Act of Queen Anne[327], which Martin and Bell cannot give, as they have no property in them; the proprietors are almost all the booksellers in London, of consequence. I am, dear Sir,
‘Ever your’s,
‘EDWARD DILLY.’
I shall afterwards have occasion to consider the extensive and varied range which Johnson took, when he was once led upon ground which he trod with a peculiar delight, having long been intimately acquainted with all the circumstances of it that could interest and please.
‘DR. JOHNSON TO CHARLES O’CONNOR, Esq.[328]
‘SIR,
‘Having had the pleasure of conversing with Dr. Campbell about your character and your literary undertaking, I am resolved to gratify myself by renewing a correspondence which began and ended a great while ago, and ended, I am afraid, by my fault; a fault which, if you have not forgotten it, you must now forgive.
‘If I have ever disappointed you, give me leave to tell you, that you have likewise disappointed me. I expected great discoveries in Irish antiquity, and large publications in the Irish language; but the world still remains at it was, doubtful and ignorant. What the Irish language is in itself, and to what languages it has affinity, are very interesting questions, which every man wishes to see resolved that has any philological or historical curiosity. Dr. Leland begins his history too late: the ages which deserve an exact enquiry are those times (for[329] such there were) when Ireland was the school of the west, the quiet habitation of sanctity and literature. If you could give a history, though imperfect, of the Irish nation, from its conversion to Christianity to the invasion from England, you would amplify knowledge with new views and new objects. Set about it therefore, if you can: do what you can easily do without anxious exactness. Lay the foundation, and leave the superstructure to posterity. I am, Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘May 19, 1777.’
Early in this year came out, in two volumes quarto, the posthumous works of the learned Dr. Zachary Pearce, Bishop of Rochester; being _A Commentary, with Notes, on the four Evangelists and the Acts of the Apostles_, with other theological pieces. Johnson had now an opportunity of making a grateful return to that excellent prelate, who, we have seen[330], was the only person who gave him any assistance in the compilation of his _Dictionary_. The Bishop had left some account of his life and character, written by himself. To this Johnson made some valuable additions[331][dagger], and also furnished to the editor, the Reverend Mr. Derby, a Dedication[dagger], which I shall here insert, both because it will appear at this time with peculiar propriety; and because it will tend to propagate and increase that ‘fervour of _Loyalty_[332],’ which in me, who boast of the name of TORY, is not only a principle, but a passion.
‘To THE KING.
‘SIR,
‘I presume to lay before your Majesty the last labours of a learned Bishop, who died in the toils and duties of his calling[333]. He is now beyond the reach of all earthly honours and rewards; and only the hope of inciting others to imitate him, makes it now fit to be remembered, that he enjoyed in his life the favour of your Majesty.
‘The tumultuary life of Princes seldom permits them to survey the wide extent of national interest, without losing sight of private merit; to exhibit qualities which may be imitated by the highest and the humblest of mankind; and to be at once amiable and great.
‘Such characters, if now and then they appear in history, are contemplated with admiration. May it be the ambition of all your subjects to make haste with their tribute of reverence: and as posterity may learn from your Majesty how Kings should live, may they learn, likewise, from your people, how they should be honoured. I am,
‘May it please your Majesty,
With the most profound respect,
Your Majesty’s
Most dutiful and devoted
Subject and Servant.’
In the summer he wrote a Prologue[*] which was spoken before _A Word to the Wise_, a comedy by Mr. Hugh Kelly[334], which had been brought upon the stage in 1770; but he being a writer for ministry, in one of the news-papers, it fell a sacrifice to popular fury, and in the playhouse phrase, was _damned_. By the generosity of Mr. Harris, the proprietor of Covent Garden theatre, it was now exhibited for one night, for the benefit of the authour’s widow and children. To conciliate the favour of the audience was the intention of Johnson’s Prologue, which, as it is not long, I shall here insert, as a proof that his poetical talents were in no degree impaired.
‘This night presents a play, which publick rage, Or right or wrong, once hooted from the stage: From zeal or malice, now no more we dread, For English vengeance _wars not with the dead_. A generous foe regards with pitying eye
The man whom Fate has laid where all must lie. To wit, reviving from its authour’s dust, Be kind, ye judges, or at least be just: Let no renewed hostilities invade
Th’ oblivious grave’s inviolable shade. Let one great payment every claim appease, And him who cannot hurt, allow to please; To please by scenes, unconscious of offence, By harmless merriment, or useful sense.
Where aught of bright or fair the piece displays, Approve it only;–’tis too late to praise. If want of skill or want of care appear, Forbear to hiss;–the poet cannot hear.
By all, like him, must praise and blame be found, At last, a fleeting gleam, or empty sound; Yet then shall calm reflection bless the night, When liberal pity dignified delight;
When pleasure fir’d her torch at virtue’s flame, And mirth was bounty with an humbler name.'[335]
A circumstance which could not fail to be very pleasing to Johnson occurred this year. The Tragedy of _Sir Thomas Overbury_, written by his early companion in London, Richard Savage[336] was brought out with alterations at Drury-lane theatre[337]. The Prologue to it was written by Mr. Richard Brinsley Sheridan; in which, after describing very pathetically the wretchedness of
‘Ill-fated Savage, at whose birth was giv’n No parent but the Muse, no friend but Heav’n:’
he introduced an elegant compliment to Johnson on his _Dictionary_, that wonderful performance which cannot be too often or too highly praised; of which Mr. Harris, in his _Philological Inquiries_[338], justly and liberally observes: ‘Such is its merit, that our language does not possess a more copious, learned, and valuable work.’ The concluding, lines of this Prologue were these:–
‘So pleads the tale that gives to future times The son’s misfortunes and the parent’s crimes; There shall his fame (if own’d to-night) survive, Fix’d by THE HAND THAT BIDS OUR LANGUAGE LIVE[339].’
Mr. Sheridan here at once did honour to his taste and to his liberality of sentiment, by shewing that he was not prejudiced from the unlucky difference which had taken place between his worthy father and Dr. Johnson. I have already mentioned, that Johnson was very desirous of reconciliation with old Mr. Sheridan.[340] It will, therefore, not seem at all surprizing that he was zealous in acknowledging the brilliant merit of his son. While it had as yet been displayed only in the drama, Johnson proposed him as a member of THE LITERARY CLUB, observing, that ‘He who has written the two best comedies of his age, is surely a considerable man[341].’ And he had, accordingly, the honour to be elected; for an honour it undoubtedly must be allowed to be, when it is considered of whom that society consists, and that a single black ball excludes a candidate.
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘July 9, 1777.[342]
‘MY DEAR SIR,
‘For the health of my wife and children I have taken the little country-house at which you visited my uncle, Dr. Boswell[343], who, having lost his wife, is gone to live with his son. We took possession of our villa about a week ago; we have a garden of three quarters of an acre, well stocked with fruit-trees and flowers, and gooseberries and currants, and peas and beans, and cabbages, &c. &c., and my children are quite happy. I now write to you in a little study, from the window of which I see around me a verdant grove, and beyond it the lofty mountain called Arthur’s Seat.
‘Your last letter, in which you desire me to send you some additional information concerning Thomson, reached me very fortunately just as I was going to Lanark, to put my wife’s two nephews, the young Campbells, to school there, under the care of Mr. Thomson, the master of it, whose wife is sister to the authour of _The Seasons_. She is an old woman; but her memory is very good; and she will with pleasure give me for you every particular that you wish to know, and she can tell. Pray then take the trouble to send me such questions as may lead to biographical materials. You say that the _Life_ which we have of Thomson is scanty. Since I received your letter I have read his _Life_, published under the name of Cibber, but as you told me, really written by a Mr. Shiels[344]; that written by Dr. Murdoch; one prefixed to an edition of the Seasons, published at Edinburgh, which is compounded of both, with the addition of an anecdote of Quin’s relieving Thomson from prison[345]; the abridgement of Murdoch’s account of him, in the _Biographia Britannica_, and another abridgement of it in the _Biographical Dictionary_, enriched with Dr. Joseph Warton’s critical panegyrick on the _Seasons_ in his _Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope_: from all these it appears to me that we have a pretty full account of this poet. However, you will, I doubt not, shew me many blanks, and I shall do what can be done to have them filled up. As Thomson never returned to Scotland, (which _you_ will think very wise,) his sister can speak from her own knowledge only as to the early part of his life. She has some letters from him, which may probably give light as to his more advanced progress, if she will let us see them, which I suppose she will[346]. I believe George Lewis Scott[347] and Dr. Armstrong[348] are now his only surviving companions, while he lived in and about London; and they, I dare say, can tell more of him than is yet known. My own notion is, that Thomson was a much coarser man than his friends are willing to acknowledge[349]. His _Seasons_ are indeed full of elegant and pious sentiments: but a rank soil, nay a dunghill, will produce beautiful flowers[350].
‘Your edition of _The English Poets_[351] will be very valuable, on account of the _Prefaces_ and _Lives_. But I have seen a specimen of an edition of _The Poets_ at the Apollo press, at Edinburgh, which, for excellence in printing and engraving, highly deserves a liberal encouragement.
‘Most sincerely do I regret the bad health and bad rest with which you have been afflicted; and I hope you are better. I cannot believe that the Prologue which you generously gave to Mr. Kelly’s widow and children the other day, is the effusion of one in sickness and in disquietude: but external circumstances are never sure indications of the state of man. I send you a letter which I wrote to you two years ago at Wilton[352]; and did not send it at the time, for fear of being reproved as indulging too much tenderness; and one written to you at the tomb of Melancthon[353], which I kept back, lest I should appear at once too superstitious and too enthusiastick. I now imagine that perhaps they may please you.
‘You do not take the least notice of my proposal for our meeting at Carlisle[354]. Though I have meritoriously refrained from visiting London this year, I ask you if it would not be wrong that I should be two years without having the benefit of your conversation, when, if you come down as far as Derbyshire, we may meet at the expence of a few days’ journeying, and not many pounds. I wish you to see Carlisle, which made me mention that place. But if you have not a desire to complete your tour of the English cathedrals, I will take a larger share of the road between this place and Ashbourne. So tell me _where_ you will fix for our passing a few days by ourselves. Now don’t cry “foolish fellow,” or “idle dog.” Chain your humour, and let your kindness play.
‘You will rejoice to hear that Miss Macleod, of Rasay[355], is married to Colonel Mure Campbell, an excellent man, with a pretty good estate of his own, and the prospect of having the Earl of Loudoun’s fortune and honours. Is not this a noble lot for our fair Hebridean? How happy am I that she is to be in Ayrshire. We shall have the Laird of Rasay, and old Malcolm, and I know not how many gallant Macleods, and bagpipes, &c. &c. at Auchinleck. Perhaps you may meet them all there.
‘Without doubt you have read what is called _The Life_ of David Hume[356], written by himself, with the letter from Dr. Adam Smith subjoined to it. Is not this an age of daring effrontery? My friend Mr. Anderson, Professor of Natural Philosophy at Glasgow, at whose house you and I supped[357], and to whose care Mr. Windham[358], of Norfolk, was entrusted at that University, paid me a visit lately; and after we had talked with indignation and contempt of the poisonous productions with which this age is infested, he said there was now an excellent opportunity for Dr. Johnson to step forth. I agreed with him that you might knock Hume’s and Smith’s heads together, and make vain and ostentatious infidelity exceedingly ridiculous. Would it not be worth your while to crush such noxious weeds in the moral garden?
‘You have said nothing to me of Dr. Dodd[359]. I know not how you think on that subject; though the newspapers give us a saying of your’s in favour of mercy to him. But I own I am very desirous that the royal prerogative of remission of punishment should be employed to exhibit an illustrious instance of the regard which GOD’s VICEGERENT will ever shew to piety and virtue. If for ten righteous men the ALMIGHTY would have spared Sodom, shall not a thousand acts of goodness done by Dr. Dodd counterbalance one crime? Such an instance would do more to encourage goodness, than his execution would do to deter from vice. I am not afraid of any bad consequence to society; for who will persevere for a long course of years in a distinguished discharge of religious duties, with a view to commit a forgery with impunity?
‘Pray make my best compliments acceptable to Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, by assuring them of my hearty joy that the _Master_[360], as you call him, is alive. I hope I shall often taste his Champagne–_soberly_.
‘I have not heard from Langton for a long time. I suppose he is as usual,
“Studious the busy moments to deceive[361].”
* * * * *
‘I remain, my dear Sir,
‘Your most affectionate, and faithful humble servant,
‘JAMES BOSWELL.’
On the 23rd of June, I again wrote to Dr. Johnson, enclosing a ship-master’s receipt for a jar of orange-marmalade, and a large packet of Lord Hailes’s _Annals of Scotland_.
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I have just received your packet from Mr. Thrale’s, but have not day-light enough to look much into it. I am glad that I have credit enough with Lord Hailes to be trusted with more copy[362]. I hope to take more care of it than of the last. I return Mrs. Boswell my affectionate thanks for her present, which I value as a token of reconciliation.
‘Poor Dodd was put to death yesterday, in opposition to the recommendation of the jury[363]–the petition of the city of London[364]–and a subsequent petition signed by three-and-twenty thousand hands. Surely the voice of the publick, when it calls so loudly, and calls only for mercy, ought to be heard[365].
‘The saying that was given me in the papers I never spoke; but I wrote many of his petitions, and some of his letters. He applied to me very often. He was, I am afraid, long flattered with hopes of life; but I had no part in the dreadful delusion; for, as soon as the King had signed his sentence[366], I obtained from Mr. Chamier[367] an account of the disposition of the court towards him, with a declaration that there _was no hope even of a respite_. This letter immediately was laid before Dodd; but he believed those whom he wished to be right, as it is thought, till within three days of his end. He died with pious composure and resolution. I have just seen the Ordinary that attended him. His address to his fellow-convicts offended the Methodists[368]; but he had a Moravian with him much of his time[369]. His moral character is very bad: I hope all is not true that is charged upon him. Of his behaviour in prison an account will be published.
‘I give you joy of your country-house, and your pretty garden; and hope some time to see you in your felicity. I was much pleased with your two letters that had been kept so long in store[370]; and rejoice at Miss Rasay’s advancement, and wish Sir Allan success.
‘I hope to meet you somewhere towards the north, but am loath to come quite to Carlisle. Can we not meet at Manchester? But we will settle it in some other letters.
‘Mr. Seward[371], a great favourite at Streatham, has been, I think, enkindled by our travels with a curiosity to see the Highlands. I have given him letters to you and Beattie. He desires that a lodging may be taken for him at Edinburgh, against his arrival. He is just setting out.
‘Langton has been exercising the militia[372]. Mrs. Williams is, I fear, declining. Dr. Lawrence says he can do no more. She is gone to summer in the country, with as many conveniences about her as she can expect; but I have no great hope. We must all die: may we all be prepared!
‘I suppose Miss Boswell reads her book, and young Alexander takes to his learning. Let me hear about them; for every thing that belongs to you, belongs in a more remote degree, and not, I hope, very remote, to, dear Sir,
‘Yours affectionately,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘June, 28, 1777.’
TO THE SAME.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘This gentleman is a great favourite at Streatham, and therefore you will easily believe that he has very valuable qualities. Our narrative has kindled him with a desire of visiting the Highlands, after having already seen a great part of Europe. You must receive him as a friend, and when you have directed him to the curiosities of Edinburgh, give him instructions and recommendations for the rest of his journey. I am, dear Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘June 24, 1777.’
Johnson’s benevolence to the unfortunate was, I am confident, as steady and active as that of any of those who have been most eminently distinguished for that virtue. Innumerable proofs of it I have no doubt will be for ever concealed from mortal eyes. We may, however, form some judgement of it, from the many and very various instances which have been discovered. One, which happened in the course of this summer, is remarkable from the name and connection of the person who was the object of it. The circumstance to which I allude is ascertained by two letters, one to Mr. Langton, and another to the Reverend Dr. Vyse, rector of Lambeth, son of the respectable clergyman at Lichfield, who was contemporary with Johnson, and in whose father’s family Johnson had the happiness of being kindly received in his early years.
‘DR. JOHNSON TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I have lately been much disordered by a difficulty of breathing, but am now better. I hope your house is well.
‘You know we have been talking lately of St. Cross, at Winchester; I have an old acquaintance whose distress makes him very desirous of an hospital, and I am afraid I have not strength enough to get him into the Chartreux. He is a painter, who never rose higher than to get his immediate living, and from that, at eighty-three, he is disabled by a slight stroke of the palsy, such as does not make him at all helpless on common occasions, though his hand is not steady enough for his art.
‘My request is, that you will try to obtain a promise of the next vacancy, from the Bishop of Chester. It is not a great thing to ask, and I hope we shall obtain it. Dr. Warton has promised to favour him with his notice, and I hope he may end his days in peace. I am, Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘June 29, 1777.’
‘To THE REVEREND DR. VYSE, AT LAMBETH.
‘SIR,
‘I doubt not but you will readily forgive me for taking the liberty of requesting your assistance in recommending an old friend to his Grace the Archbishop, as Governour of the Charter-house.
‘His name is De Groot; he was born at Gloucester; I have known him many years. He has all the common claims to charity, being old, poor, and infirm, in a great degree. He has likewise another claim, to which no scholar can refuse attention; he is by several descents the nephew of Hugo Grotius; of him, from whom perhaps every man of learning has learnt something. Let it not be said that in any lettered country a nephew of Grotius asked a charity and was refused.[373]
‘I am, reverend Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘July 9, 1777.’
‘REVEREND DR. VYSE TO MR. BOSWELL.
‘Lambeth, June 9, 1787.
‘SIR,
‘I have searched in vain for the letter which I spoke of, and which I wished, at your desire, to communicate to you. It was from Dr. Johnson, to return me thanks for my application to Archbishop Cornwallis in favour of poor De Groot. He rejoices at the success it met with, and is lavish in the praise he bestows upon his favourite, Hugo Grotius. I am really sorry that I cannot find this letter, as it is worthy of the writer. That which I send you enclosed[374] is at your service. It is very short, and will not perhaps be thought of any consequence, unless you should judge proper to consider it as a proof of the very humane part which Dr. Johnson took in behalf of a distressed and deserving person. I am, Sir,
‘Your most obedient humble servant,
‘W. VYSE.’
‘DR. JOHNSON TO MR. EDWARD DILLY[375].
‘SIR,
‘To the collection of _English Poets_, I have recommended the volume of Dr. Watts to be added; his name has long been held by me in veneration[376], and I would not willingly be reduced to tell of him only that he was born and died. Yet of his life I know very little, and therefore must pass him in a manner very unworthy of his character, unless some of his friends will favour me with the necessary information; many of them must be known to you; and by your influence, perhaps I may obtain some instruction. My plan does not exact much; but I wish to distinguish Watts, a man who never wrote but for a good purpose. Be pleased to do for me what you can.
‘I am, Sir, your humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘Bolt-Court, Fleet-street,
July 7, 1777.’
‘To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, July 15, 1777.
‘MY DEAR SIR,
‘The fate of poor Dr. Dodd made a dismal impression upon my mind.
* * * * *
‘I had sagacity enough to divine that you wrote his speech to the Recorder, before sentence was pronounced. I am glad you have written so much for him; and I hope to be favoured with an exact list of the several pieces when we meet.
‘I received Mr. Seward as the friend of Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, and as a gentleman recommended by Dr. Johnson to my attention. I have introduced him to Lord Kames, Lord Monboddo, and Mr. Nairne. He is gone to the Highlands with Dr. Gregory; when he returns I shall do more for him.
‘Sir Allan Maclean has[377] carried that branch of his cause, of which we had good hopes: the President and one other Judge only were against him. I wish the House of Lords may do as well as the Court of Session has done. But Sir Allan has not the lands of _Brolos_ quite cleared by this judgement, till a long account is made up of debts and interests on the one side, and rents on the other. I am, however, not much afraid of the balance.
‘Macquarry’s estates[378], Staffa and all, were sold yesterday, and bought by a Campbell. I fear he will have little or nothing left out of the purchase money.
‘I send you the case against the negro[379], by Mr. Cullen, son to Dr. Cullen, in opposition to Maclaurin’s for liberty, of which you have approved. Pray read this, and tell me what you think as a _Politician_, as well as a _Poet_, upon the subject.
‘Be so kind as to let me know how your time is to be distributed next autumn. I will meet you at Manchester, or where you please; but I wish you would complete your tour of the cathedrals, and come to Carlisle, and I will accompany you a part of the way homewards.
‘I am ever,
‘Most faithfully yours,
‘JAMES BOSWELL.’
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘Your notion of the necessity of an yearly interview is very pleasing to both my vanity and tenderness. I shall, perhaps, come to Carlisle another year; but my money has not held out so well as it used to do. I shall go to Ashbourne, and I purpose to make Dr. Taylor invite you. If you live awhile with me at his house, we shall have much time to ourselves, and our stay will be no expence to us or him. I shall leave London the 28th; and after some stay at Oxford and Lichfield, shall probably come to Ashbourne about the end of your Session, but of all this you shall have notice. Be satisfied we will meet somewhere.
‘What passed between me and poor Dr. Dodd you shall know more fully when we meet.
‘Of lawsuits there is no end; poor Sir Allan must have another trial, for which, however, his antagonist cannot be much blamed, having two Judges on his side. I am more afraid of the debts than of the House of Lords. It is scarcely to be imagined to what debts will swell, that are daily increasing by small additions, and how carelessly in a state of desperation debts are contracted. Poor Macquarry was far from thinking that when he sold his islands he should receive nothing. For what were they sold? And what was their yearly value? The admission of money into the Highlands will soon put an end to the feudal modes of life, by making those men landlords who were not chiefs. I do not know that the people will suffer by the change; but there was in the patriarchal authority something venerable and pleasing. Every eye must look with pain on a _Campbell_ turning the _Macquarries_ at will out of their _sedes avitae_, their hereditary island.
‘Sir Alexander Dick is the only Scotsman liberal enough not to be angry that I could not find trees, where trees were not. I was much delighted by his kind letter.
‘I remember Rasay with too much pleasure not to partake of the happiness of any part of that amiable family. Our ramble in the islands hangs upon my imagination, I can hardly help imagining that we shall go again. Pennant seems to have seen a great deal which we did not see: when we travel again let us look better about us.
‘You have done right in taking your uncle’s house. Some change in the form of life, gives from time to time a new epocha[380] of existence. In a new place there is something new to be done, and a different system of thoughts rises in the mind. I wish I could gather currants in your garden. Now fit up a little study, and have your books ready at hand; do not spare a little money, to make your habitation pleasing to yourself.
‘I have dined lately with poor dear —-[381]. I do not think he goes on well. His table is rather coarse, and he has his children too much about him[382]. But he is a very good man.
‘Mrs. Williams is in the country to try if she can improve her health; she is very ill. Matters have come so about that she is in the country with very good accommodation; but age and sickness, and pride, have made her so peevish that I was forced to bribe the maid to stay with her, by a secret stipulation of half a crown a week over her wages.
‘Our CLUB ended its session about six weeks ago[383]. We now only meet to dine once a fortnight. Mr. Dunning[384], the great lawyer, is one of our members. The Thrales are well.
‘I long to know how the Negro’s cause will be decided. What is the opinion of Lord Auchinleck, or Lord Hailes, or Lord Monboddo?
‘I am, dear Sir,
‘Your most affectionate, &c.
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘July 22, 1777.’
‘DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. BOSWELL.
‘MADAM,
‘Though I am well enough pleased with the taste of sweetmeats, very little of the pleasure which I received at the arrival of your jar of marmalade arose from eating it[385]. I received it as a token of friendship, as a proof of reconciliation, things much sweeter than sweetmeats, and upon this consideration I return you, dear Madam, my sincerest thanks. By having your kindness I think I have a double security for the continuance of Mr. Boswell’s, which it is not to be expected that any man can long keep, when the influence of a lady so highly and so justly valued operates against him. Mr. Boswell will tell you that I was always faithful to your interest, and always endeavoured to exalt you in his estimation. You must now do the same for me. We must all help one another, and you must now consider me, as, dear Madam,
‘Your most obliged,
‘And most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘July 22, 1777.’
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, July 28, 1777.
‘My Dear Sir,
‘This is the day on which you were to leave London and I have been amusing myself in the intervals of my law-drudgery, with figuring you in the Oxford post-coach. I doubt, however, if you have had so merry a journey as you and I had in that vehicle last year, when you made so much sport with Gwyn[386], the architect. Incidents upon a journey are recollected with peculiar pleasure; they are preserved in brisk spirits, and come up again in our minds, tinctured with that gaiety, or at least that animation with which we first perceived them.’
* * * * *
[I added, that something had occurred, which I was afraid might prevent me from meeting him[387]; and that my wife had been affected with complaints which threatened a consumption, but was now better.]
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘Do not disturb yourself about our interviews; I hope we shall have many; nor think it any thing hard or unusual, that your design of meeting me is interrupted. We have both endured greater evils, and have greater evils to expect.
‘Mrs. Boswell’s illness makes a more serious distress. Does the blood rise from her lungs or from her stomach? From little vessels broken in the stomach there is no danger. Blood from the lungs is, I believe, always frothy, as mixed with wind. Your physicians know very well what is to be done. The loss of such a lady would, indeed, be very afflictive, and I hope she is in no danger. Take care to keep her mind as easy as is possible.
‘I have left Langton in London. He has been down with the militia, and is again quiet at home, talking to his little people, as, I suppose, you do sometimes. Make my compliments to Miss Veronica[388]. The rest are too young for ceremony.
‘I cannot but hope that you have taken your country-house at a very seasonable time, and that it may conduce to restore, or establish Mrs. Boswell’s health, as well as provide room and exercise for the young ones. That you and your lady may both be happy, and long enjoy your happiness, is the sincere and earnest wish of, dear Sir,
‘Your most, &c.
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘Oxford, Aug. 4, 1777.’
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
[Informing him that my wife had continued to grow better, so that my alarming apprehensions were relieved: and that I hoped to disengage myself from the other embarrassment which had occurred, and therefore requesting to know particularly when he intended to be at Ashbourne.]
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I am this day come to Ashbourne, and have only to tell you, that Dr. Taylor says you shall be welcome to him, and you know how welcome you will be to me. Make haste to let me know when you may be expected.
‘Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, and tell her, I hope we shall be at variance no more. I am, dear Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘August 30, 1777.’
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘On Saturday I wrote a very short letter, immediately upon my arrival hither, to shew you that I am not less desirous of the interview than yourself. Life admits not of delays; when pleasure can be had, it is fit to catch it. Every hour takes away part of the things that please us, and perhaps part of our disposition to be pleased. When I came to Lichfield, I found my old friend Harry Jackson dead[389]. It was a loss, and a loss not to be repaired, as he was one of the companions of my childhood. I hope we may long continue to gain friends, but the friends which merit or usefulness can procure us, are not able to supply the place of old acquaintance, with whom the days of youth may be retraced, and those images revived which gave the earliest delight. If you and I live to be much older, we shall take great delight in talking over the Hebridean Journey.
‘In the mean time it may not be amiss to contrive some other little adventure, but what it can be I know not; leave it, as Sidney says,
“To virtue, fortune, wine, and woman’s breast[390];”
for I believe Mrs. Boswell must have some part in the consultation.
‘One thing you will like. The Doctor, so far as I can judge, is likely to leave us enough to ourselves. He was out to-day before _I_ came down, and, I fancy, will stay out till dinner. I have brought the papers about poor Dodd, to show you, but you will soon have dispatched them.
‘Before I came away I sent poor Mrs. Williams into the country, very ill of a pituitous defluxion, which wastes her gradually away, and which her physician declares himself unable to stop. I supplied her as far as could be desired, with all conveniences to make her excursion and abode pleasant and useful. But I am afraid she can only linger a short time in a morbid state of weakness and pain.
‘The Thrales, little and great, are all well, and purpose to go to Brighthelmstone at Michaelmas. They will invite me to go with them, and perhaps I may go, but I hardly think I shall like to stay the whole time; but of futurity we know but little.
‘Mrs. Porter is well; but Mrs. Aston, one of the ladies at Stowhill, has been struck with a palsy, from which she is not likely ever to recover. How soon may such a stroke fall upon us!
‘Write to me, and let us know when we may expect you.
‘I am, dear Sir,
‘Your most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘Ashbourne, Sept. 1, 1777.’
‘MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
‘Edinburgh, Sept. 9, 1777.
[After informing him that I was to set out next day, in order to meet him at Ashbourne.]
‘I have a present for you from Lord Hailes; the fifth book of _Lactantius_, which he has published with Latin notes. He is also to give you a few anecdotes for your _Life of Thomson_, who I find was private tutor to the present Earl of Hadington, Lord Hailes’s cousin, a circumstance not mentioned by Dr. Murdoch. I have keen expectations of delight from your edition of _The English Poets_.
‘I am sorry for poor Mrs. Williams’s situation. You will, however, have the comfort of reflecting on your kindness to her. Mr. Jackson’s death, and Mrs. Aston’s palsy, are gloomy circumstances. Yet surely we should be habituated to the uncertainty of life and health. When my mind is unclouded by melancholy, I consider the temporary distresses of this state of being, as “light afflictions[391],” by stretching my mental view into that glorious after-existence, when they will appear to be as nothing. But present pleasures and present pains must be felt. I lately read _Rasselas_ over again with great satisfaction[392].
‘Since you are desirous to hear about Macquarry’s sale I shall inform you particularly. The gentleman who purchased Ulva is Mr. Campbell, of Auchnaba: our friend Macquarry was proprietor of two-thirds of it, of which the rent was L156 5s 1-1/2d. This parcel was set up at L4,069 5s. 1d., but it sold for no less than L5,540. The other third of Ulva, with the island of Staffa, belonged to Macquarry of Ormaig. Its rent, including that of Staffa, L83 12s. 2-1/2d. set up at L2178 16s. 4d.–sold for no less than L3,540. The Laird of Col wished to purchase Ulva, but he thought the price too high. There may, indeed, be great improvements made there, both in fishing and agriculture; but the interest of the purchase-money exceeds the rent so very much, that I doubt if the bargain will be profitable. There is an island called Little Colonsay, of L10 yearly rent, which I am informed has belonged to the Macquarrys of Ulva for many ages, but which was lately claimed by the Presbyterian Synod of Argyll, in consequence of a grant made to them by Queen Anne. It is believed that their claim will be dismissed, and that Little Colonsay will also be sold for the advantage of Macquarry’s creditors. What think you of purchasing this island, and endowing a school or college there, the master to be a clergyman of the Church of England? How venerable would such an institution make the name of DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON in the Hebrides! I have, like yourself, a wonderful pleasure in recollecting our travels in those islands. The pleasure is, I think, greater than it reasonably should be, considering that we had not much either of beauty or elegance to charm our imaginations, or of rude novelty to astonish. Let us, by all means, have another expedition. I shrink a little from our scheme of going up the Baltick[393]. I am sorry you have already been in Wales; for I wish to see it. Shall we go to Ireland, of which I have seen but little? We shall try to strike out a plan when we are at Ashbourne. I am ever,
‘Your most faithful humble servant,
‘JAMES BOSWELL.’
‘To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I write to be left at Carlisle, as you direct me; but you cannot have it. Your letter, dated Sept. 6, was not at this place till this day, Thursday, Sept. 11; and I hope you will be here before this is at Carlisle[394]. However, what you have not going, you may have returning; and as I believe I shall not love you less after our interview, it will then be as true as it is now, that I set a very high value upon your friendship, and count your kindness as one of the chief felicities of my life. Do not fancy that an intermission of writing is a decay of kindness. No man is always in a disposition to write; nor has any man at all times something to say.
‘That distrust which intrudes so often on your mind is a mode of melancholy, which, if it be the business of a wise man to be happy, it is foolish to indulge; and if it be a duty to preserve our faculties entire for their proper use, it is criminal. Suspicion is very often an useless pain. From that, and all other pains, I wish you free and safe; for I am, dear Sir,
‘Most affectionately yours,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
‘Ashbourne, Sept. 11, 1777.’
On Sunday evening Sept. 14, I arrived at Ashbourne, and drove directly up to Dr. Taylor’s door. Dr. Johnson and he appeared before I had got out of the post-chaise, and welcomed me cordially[395].
I told them that I had travelled all the preceding night, and gone to bed at Leek in Staffordshire; and that when I rose to go to church in the afternoon, I was informed there had been an earthquake[396], of which, it seems, the shock had been felt in some degree at Ashbourne. JOHNSON. ‘Sir, it will be much exaggerated in popular talk: for, in the first place, the common people do not accurately adapt their thoughts to the objects; nor, secondly, do they accurately adapt their words to their thoughts: they do not mean to lie; but, taking no pains to be exact, they give you very false accounts. A great part of their language is proverbial. If anything rocks at all, they say _it rocks like a cradle_; and in this way they go on.’
The subject of grief for the loss of relations and friends being introduced, I observed that it was strange to consider how soon it in general wears away. Dr. Taylor mentioned a gentleman of the neighbourhood as the only instance he had ever known of a person who had endeavoured to _retain_ grief. He told Dr. Taylor, that after his Lady’s death, which affected him deeply, he _resolved_ that the grief, which he cherished with a kind of sacred fondness, should be lasting; but that he found he could not keep it long. JOHNSON. ‘All grief for what cannot in the course of nature be helped, soon wears away; in some sooner, indeed, in some later; but it never continues very long, unless where there is madness, such as will make a man have pride so fixed in his mind, as to imagine himself a King; or any other passion in an unreasonable way: for all unnecessary grief is unwise, and therefore will not be long retained by a sound mind[397]. If, indeed, the cause of our grief is occasioned by our own misconduct, if grief is mingled with remorse of conscience, it should be lasting.’ BOSWELL. ‘But, Sir, we do not approve of a man who very soon forgets the loss of a wife or a friend.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, we disapprove of him, not because he soon forgets his grief, for the sooner it is forgotten the better, but because we suppose, that if he forgets his wife or his friend soon, he has not had much affection for them[398].’
I was somewhat disappointed in finding that the edition of _The English Poets_, for which he was to write Prefaces and Lives, was not an undertaking directed by him: but that he was to furnish a Preface and Life to any poet the booksellers pleased. I asked him if he would do this to any dunce’s works, if they should ask him. JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir; and _say_ he was a dunce.’ My friend seemed now not much to relish talking of this edition.
On Monday, September 15, Dr. Johnson observed, that every body commended such parts of his _Journey to the Western Islands_, as were in their own way. ‘For instance, (said he,) Mr. Jackson (the all-knowing)[399] told me there was more good sense upon trade in it, than he should hear in the House of Commons in a year, except from Burke. Jones commended the part which treats of language; Burke that which describes the inhabitants of mountainous countries[400].’
After breakfast, Johnson carried me to see the garden belonging to the school of Ashbourne, which is very prettily formed upon a bank, rising gradually behind the house. The Reverend Mr. Langley[401], the head-master, accompanied us.
While we sat basking in the sun upon a seat here, I introduced a common subject of complaint, the very small salaries which many curates have,