0^. 
 
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 BOSWELL'S 
 
 LIFE OF JOHNSON 
 AND TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES
 
 Sir iX>sh,u.a, S,e]pio7yaL.<f 
 
 HiJosey. 
 
 SiLF'-
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 
 
 AND THE JOURNAL OF HIS 
 
 TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES ;BOSWELL 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH PORTRAITS BY 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 HENRY MORLEY 
 
 LL.D., Professor of English Literature at 
 University College, Lojidon 
 
 IN FIVE VOLUMES 
 VOL. I 
 
 LONDON 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited 
 
 BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL 
 
 GLASGOW, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK 
 
 1891
 
 TITLE PAGE 
 
 DEDICA TION 
 
 And Advertisement to the 
 
 FIRST EDITION 
 
 ill 
 
 April 1 79 1
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 
 
 COMPREHENDING 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STUDIES 
 AND NUMEROUS WORKS 
 
 IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER 
 
 A SERIES OF HIS EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE 
 AND CONVERSATIONS WITH MANY EMINENT PERSONS 
 
 AND 
 
 VARIOUS ORIGINAL PIECES OF HIS COMPOSITION 
 NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED 
 
 THE WHOLE EXHIBITING A VIEW OF LITERATURE AND LITERARY 
 
 MEN IN GREAT BRITAIN FOR NEARLY HALF A CENTURY 
 
 DURING WHICH HE FLOURISHED 
 
 By JAMES BOSWELL, Esc^. 
 
 " Qub Jit Ut OMNIS 
 
 Votiva pateat veluti descripta tabella 
 Vita senis." — Horat. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 
 LONDON 
 PRINTED BY HENRY BALDWIN 
 
 FOR CHARLES DILLY IN THE POULTRY 
 MDCCXCI
 
 ■■ ■I ■
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 TO 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 
 Every liberal motive that can actuate an Author 
 in the dedication of his labours, concurs in directing 
 me to you, as the person to whom the following Work 
 should be inscribed. 
 
 If there be a pleasure in celebrating the distinguished 
 merit of a contemporary, mixed with a certain degree 
 of vanity not altogether inexcusable in appearing fully 
 sensible of it, where can I find one in complimenting 
 whom I can with more general approbation gratify those 
 feelings ? Your excellence, not only in the Art over 
 which you have long presided with unrivalled fame, 
 but also in Philosophy and elegant Literature, is well 
 known to the present, and will continue to be the 
 admiration of future ages. Your equal and placid
 
 X DEDICA TION. 
 
 temper, your variety of conversation, your true polite- 
 ness, by which you are so amiable in private society, 
 and that enlarged hospitality which has long made your 
 house a common centre of union for the ereat, the 
 accomplished, the learned, and the ingenious — all these 
 qualities I can, in perfect confidence of not being 
 accused of flattery, ascribe to you. 
 
 If a man may indulge an honest pride in having it 
 known to the world, that he has been thought worthy 
 of particular attention by a person of the first eminence 
 in the age in which he lived, whose company has been 
 universally courted, I am justified in availing myself of 
 the usual privilege of a Dedication, when I mention 
 that there has been a long and uninterrupted friendship 
 between us. 
 
 If grratitude should be acknowledo^ed for favours 
 received, I have this opportunity, my dear Sir, most 
 sincerely to thank you for the many happy hours which 
 I owe to your kindness — for the cordiality with which 
 you have at all times been pleased to welcome me — 
 for the number of valuable acquaintances to whom you 
 have introduced me — for the nodes ccencsque Dcum 
 which I have enjoyed under your roof. 
 
 If a work should be inscribed to one who is master 
 of the subject of it, and whose approbation, therefore, 
 must insure it credit and success, the Life of Dr. 
 Johnson is, with the greatest propriety, dedicated to 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was the intimate and 
 beloved friend of that great man ; the friend whom he
 
 DEDICA TION. 
 
 declared to be " the most invulnerable man he knew ; 
 whom, if he should quarrel with him, he should 
 find the most difficulty how to abuse." You, my dear 
 Sir, studied him, and knew him well : you venerated 
 and admired him. Yet, luminous as he was upon the 
 whole, you perceived all the shades which mingled in 
 the grand composition ; all the little peculiarities and 
 slight blemishes which marked the literary Colossus. 
 Your very warm commendation of the specimen which 
 I gave, in vc^y Joztrnal of a Totir to the Hebrides, of 
 my being able to preserve his conversation in an 
 authentick and lively manner — which opinion the Publick 
 has confirmed — was the best encouragement for me to 
 persevere in my purpose of producing the whole of 
 my stores. 
 
 In one respect, this Work will, in some passages, be 
 different from the former. In my "Tour," I was almost 
 unboundedly open in my communications ; and from 
 my eagerness to display the wonderful fertility and 
 readiness of Johnson's wit, freely showed to the world its 
 dexterity, even when I was myself the object of it. I 
 trusted that I should be liberally understood, as knowing 
 very well what I was about, and by no means as simply 
 unconscious of the pointed effects of the satire. I 
 own, indeed, that I was arrogant enough to suppose 
 that the tenor of the rest of the book would sufficiently 
 guard me against such a strange imputation. But it 
 seems I judged too well of the w^orld ; for, though I 
 could scarcely believe it, I have been undoubtedly in- 
 formed, that many persons, especially in distant quarters
 
 xii DEDICATION. 
 
 not penetrating enough into Johnson's character, so as 
 to understand his mode of treating his friends, have 
 arraigned my judgement, instead of seeing that I was 
 sensible of all that they could observe. 
 
 It is related of the great Dr. Clarke, that when, in 
 one of his leisure hours, he was unbending himself with 
 a few friends in the most playful and frolicksome manner, 
 he observed Beau Nash approaching ; upon which he 
 suddenly stopped: — "My boys," (said he,) "let us be 
 grave; here comes a fool." The world, my friend, I 
 have found to be a great fool, as to that particular on 
 which it has become necessary to speak very plainly. 
 I have, therefore, in this work been more reserved ; 
 and though I tell nothing but the truth, I have still 
 kept in my mind that the whole truth is not always 
 to be exposed. This, however, I have managed so as 
 to occasion no diminution of the pleasure which my 
 book should afford ; though malignity may sometimes 
 be disappointed of its gratifications. 
 
 I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 Your much obliged friend, 
 
 And faithful humble servant, 
 
 JAMES BOSWELL. 
 
 London, 
 April 20ih, 1 791.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 / at last deliver to the world a work which I have long 
 promised, and of which, I am afraid, too high expectations have 
 been raised. The delay of its publication must be hnpiited, in 
 a considerable degree, to the extraordinary zeal zvhich has been 
 shown by distinguished persons in all quarters to supply me 
 with additional information concerning its illustrious subject; 
 resembling in this the grateful tribes of ancient nations, of which 
 every individual zvas eager to throw a stone upo?i the grave of 
 a departed Hero, and thus to share in the pious office of erecting 
 an honourable monument to Jus memory. 
 
 The labour and anxious attention ivith zvJiich I have collected 
 and arranged the materials of ivhich these volumes are composed, 
 will hardly be conceived by those zuho read them with careless 
 facility. The stretch of vti?id and prompt assiduity by zvhich so 
 many conversations zvere preserved, I myself, at some distance of 
 time, contemplate zvith wonder ; and I must be allowed to suggest 
 that the nature of the work in other respects, as it consists of 
 innumerable detached particulars, all which, even the most minute, 
 I have spared no pains to ascertain with a scrupidous autheiiticity, 
 has occasioned a degree of trouble far beyond that of any other 
 species of composition. Were I to detail the books wJiich I have 
 constdted, and the inquiries which I have found it necessary to make 
 by various channels, I sJioidd probably be thought ridiculously 
 ostentatious. Let me only observe, as a specimen of my trouble, 
 that I have soinetimes been obliged to run half over London, in
 
 xiv ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 order to fix a date correctly ; wJiich, when I had accomplished, 
 I knew well woidd obtain me no praise, thoiigJi a failure would 
 have been to my discredit. And after all, perhaps, hard as it 
 may be, I shall not be surprised if omissions or mistakes be 
 pointed oiit with invidious severity. I have also been extremely 
 carefid as to the exactness of my quotatiotis ; holding that there is 
 a respect due to the public, whicJi shoidd oblige every Authour to 
 attend to this, and never to presume to introduce them tvith — 
 "I think I have read" — or — "If I remember right," wJien the 
 originals may be examined. 
 
 I beg leave to express my zvarmest thanks to those who have 
 been pleased to favoiir me with communications aiid advice in 
 the conduct of my Work. But I cannot stifficiently acknowledge 
 my obligations to my friend Mr. M ALONE, wJio was so good as to 
 allow me to read to him almost the whole of my ma?iuscript, and 
 make such remarks as were greatly for the advantage of the 
 Work ; though it is hit fair to him to mention, thai upon many 
 occasions I differed from Jiim, and followed my ozvn judgement. 
 I regret sincerely thai I was deprived of the benefit of his revision, 
 when fiot more than one half of the book had passed thro2igh the 
 press ; but after having completed his very laborious and admir- 
 able edition of SHAKESPEARE, for which he generoiisly would 
 accept of 710 other reward but that fame which he had so deservedly 
 obtained, he fulfilled his promise of a long-wished-for visit to his 
 relations in Irelatid ; from whence his safe retiLrn finibus Atticis 
 is desired by Jiis friends here, with all the classical ardour of S\c 
 te Diva potens Cypri ; for there is no man in whom more elegant 
 and worthy qualities are united ; and whose society, therefore, is 
 more valued by those who know him. 
 
 It is painful to vie to tJiink, that zvhile I zuas carrying on this 
 Work, several of those to ivhom it zvould have been most interest- 
 ing have died. Such melancholy disappointments we know to be 
 ijicident to huma7iity ; but we do not feel tJiem the less. Let m.e 
 particidarly lament the Reverend Thomas Warton, and the 
 Reverend Dr. Adams. Mr. Warton, amidst his variety of genius 
 and learning, was an excellent Biographer. His contributions
 
 AD VER TISEMENT, xv 
 
 to my collection are highly estimable ; arid as he had a true 
 relish of my " Tour to the Hebrides," / tr?(st I should now have 
 been gratified with a larger share of his kind approbation. 
 Dr. Ada HIS, eminent as the Head of a College, as a writer, and 
 as a most amiable man, had known fOHNSON from his early 
 years, and was his frie?td through life. What reason I had to 
 hope for the cotmtenance of that vejierable Gentleman to this Work, 
 will appear from what he wrote to me upon a former occasion 
 from Oxford, November 17, 1785: — "Dear Sir, I hazard this 
 letter not knowing where it will find you, to thank you for your 
 very agreeable 'Tour,' which I found here on my return from 
 the country, and in which you have depicted our friend so 
 perfectly to my fancy, in every attitude, every scene and situa- 
 tion, that I have thought myself in the company, and of the 
 party almost throughout. It has given very general satis- 
 faction ; and those who have found most fault with a passage 
 here and there, have agreed that they could not help going 
 through, and being entertained with the whole. I wish, indeed, 
 some few gross expressions had been softened, and a few of 
 our hero's foibles had been a little more shaded ; but it is 
 useful to see the weaknesses incident to great minds ; and you 
 have given us Dr. Johnson's authority that in history all ought 
 to be told." 
 
 Such a sanction to my faculty of giving a just representatioti 
 of Dr. fOHNSON I could not cottceal. Nor zvill I suppress my 
 satisfaction in the conscioustiess, that by recording so considerable 
 a portion of the wisdom and zuit of " the brightest ornament 
 of the eighteenth century,"^ / have largely provided for the 
 instruction and entertainment of mankind. 
 
 London, April 20, 1791. 
 
 1 See Mr. Malone's Preface to his edition of Shakespeare.
 
 [JOHNSON AND REYNOLDS. 
 
 A PREFACE. 
 
 !( Ix 1764 Johnson, aged fifty-five, wrote to Reynolds, who was then 
 
 recovering from a severe illness, " If I should lose you, I should 
 lose almost the only man whom I call a friend." 
 
 Johnson's kind heart and social temper surrounded him with 
 the friendliest acquaintanceships. His uncouth ways, that had their 
 origin in an inherited taint of the blood, his delight in intellec- 
 tual wrestle, and his eager overbearing roar of argument, concealed 
 from none who came near to him the tenderness that his own hard 
 struggles had provoked only to helpful pity for the sufferings of 
 others, the manly fidelity, the faith in God that, more than any 
 other feature of his character, maintained to the last a sound mind 
 in an unsound body. But there was hardly any man but Reynolds 
 towards whom Johnson's ready good will went out, without any 
 disturbing under thought, as equal brotherhood of friendship. His 
 love for his old pupil, David Garrick, was touched by imperfect 
 sympathy with Garrick's calling as a player ; with young Boswell, 
 to whom he was an oracle, such equal brotherhood was, of course, 
 impossible. For Goldsmith Johnson's friendship was more fatherly ; 
 and among other men with whom he had close ties of affection, it 
 was Reynolds, almost alone, from whom he had nothing to take, 
 and to whom he had nothing to give, but friendship, Reynolds 
 also he could regard as intellectually his equal, and his strength 
 was in an art outside the pale of Johnson's rivalry. 
 
 VOL, I, h
 
 xviii JOIIXSON AND MEYAOLDS—A PREFACE. 
 
 In tliG notes to this edition all that are not contained within 
 square brackets [ ] are by Boswell himself, and form, therefore, 
 a part of the original v«'ork. The notes within brackets are those 
 of subsequent editors. To every such note its author's name is 
 appended, except when it happens that the present editor is 
 answerable for it ; in that case it is bracketed unsigned. 
 
 The present editor is answerable also for a summing up of the 
 book, at the close of the last volume, with an estimate of Johnson's 
 character : and he has tried to make a sufficient set of Indexes.]
 
 [SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 Joshua Reynolds, fourteen years younger than Samuel John- 
 son, was born at Plympton Earl, in Devonshire, on the 16th of July, 
 1723. His father, son of a clergyman at Exeter, was master of 
 the grammar school at Plympton Eaii, where he had a house 
 and about £120 a year. He married the daughter of a clergyman, 
 and had ten or twelve children, of whom several died. Joshua, 
 named after an uncle who was a clergyman, was one of the six 
 who lived. 
 
 Joshua Reynolds was taught at Plym23ton in his father's school. 
 When twelve years old, he painted in oil the portrait of a 
 Reverend Thomas Smart, jjerhajDS from a sketch taken in church, 
 the studio being a boathouse at Cremyll Beach, under Mount 
 Edgcumbe, the canvas part of a boat sail, and the paint such paint 
 as shipwrights use. When- Joshua Reynolds was about seventeen 
 years old his father's mind halted between making him an 
 apothecary and making him a painter. He himself told his 
 father that "he would rather be an aj)othecary than an ordinary 
 Dainter ; but if he could be bound to an eminent master he should 
 choose painting." He was apprenticed accoidmgly, with a premium 
 of £120, to Thomas Hudson, a Devonshire man, who was the painter 
 Richardson's pupil and son-in-law. Hudson was one of the chief 
 portrait painters of his time, and in October, 1740, Reynolds made 
 his first appearance in London, at Mr. Hudson's house in Great 
 Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn. Two years later his father wrote 
 to a friend — "As for Joshua, nobody, by his letters to me, was 
 ever better j3leased, in his employment, in his master, in every- 
 thing." And hard work pleased him. He felt, as he afterwards 
 
 li 2
 
 XX SIB JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 said, tliat " those who are determined to excel must go to their 
 work, whether willing or unwilling, morning, noon, and nio-ht, 
 and they will find it to be no play, but on the contrary very 
 hard labour." 
 
 But soon afterwards Hudson fell into some controversy with 
 liis apprentice that caused Reynolds to return to Devonshire 
 before the end of the four years for which he had been bound, 
 his father writing of the difference, whatever it may have been, 
 " I shall only say, there is no controversy I was ever let into, wherein 
 I was so little offended with either party." 
 
 Joshua Reynolds began at once to earn by portrait painting at 
 Plymouth Dock, and in January, 1744, his proud father wrote that 
 he had already painted twenty portraits, including that of the 
 greatest man of the place, the Commissioner of the Dockyard. By 
 the end of that year Reynolds was in London again, working 
 for himself, but on the most cordial terms with Hudson; and 
 his success was assured before his father died, at Christmas time in 
 1746. Joshua Reynolds was then in his twenty-fourth year, and 
 Samuel Johnson had been for eight years wrestling with jioverty 
 in London. It was in the next year, 1747, that Johnson wrote 
 the prologue for his friend Garrick's opening of Druiy Lane, 
 and issued the prospectus of his Dictionary. 
 
 Joshua Reynolds after his father's death had to take his sisters 
 from the schoolmaster's house at Plympton, and he then brought 
 them into a home of his own establishing at Plymouth Docks. 
 During about three years of residence here, he came under the 
 influence of William Gandy, of Exeter, in whose j)on;raits he found 
 large suggestion for his future work. 
 
 In 1749, Commodore Kepjoel, then a young man of twenty-four, 
 having put into Plymouth for repairs when on his way to the 
 Mediterranean, made the acquaintance of young Reynolds, and 
 liked him so much that he gave him a j^assage in his ship. A 
 fall in riding at Minorca cut Reynolds's face, and left a permanent 
 scar on his upper lip. Then, passing from Minorca into Italy, he 
 spent two years at Rome, two married sisters lending him the 
 necessary money. In 1752, his age being then twenty-nine, he 
 studied also at Florence and Venice, and in October of that year 
 he was again in London. Johnson, then forty-three years old, had
 
 SIB JOSHUA REYNOLDS. xxi 
 
 completed his Bamhlcr in the preceding March, and at the same 
 time his wife had died. 
 
 After a few months' rest in Devonshire, Reynolds took rooms in 
 St. Martin's Lane, then fashionable as a painters' quarter. Soon 
 afterwards he moved to 5, Great Newport Street, and raised his 
 prices from five guineas to twelve for a head, twenty-four for a 
 lialf-length, and forty-eight for a whole length, which Avas Hudson's 
 scale of charges. He had with him his sister Frances, who was 
 not even-tempered like himself, but very conscientious. She made 
 copies of her brother's pictures, about which he said that " they 
 make other people laugh, and me cry." When, after some years, 
 she ceased to live with him, he provided amjDly for her means 
 of life. 
 
 It was in Newport Street, in 1754, when Reynolds was thirty-one 
 years old and had distanced every rival, when Johnson was forty- 
 five, and within a year of finishing his seven years' work upon the 
 Dictionary, that Johnson and Reynolds first met at the house of 
 two daughters of Admiral Cotterell, who lived in Newport Street, 
 ojDposite the painter. Johnson, struck with the sagacity and force 
 of some of Reynolds's sayings, went home and supped with him. 
 He and Reynolds at once became intimate friends, and Miss 
 Reynolds won his highest regard for everything she did, except a 
 portrait of himself, which he called " Johnson's grimly ghost." 
 
 It was in 1756 that Reynolds painted for himself the half-length 
 of Johnson sitting at a table, j)en in hand, which he gave afterwards 
 to Boswell, to serve as frontisj)iece to his biography. It forms the 
 frontispiece to the present volume. In 1759, Reynolds, aged 
 thirty-six, painted the first of his seven portraits of Ganick. 
 
 On the 21st of AjDril, 1760, there was opened, in a room in the 
 Strand, belonging to the Society of Arts, the first exhibition of 
 the works of living painters. In this year Reynolds moved to the 
 house in Leicester Square, now occupied by Messrs. Puttick and 
 Simpson, which was his home during the rest of his life. He had 
 raised his prices for the three classes of portraits to twenty-five, 
 fifty, and a hundred guineas. He was soon making six thousand a 
 year, and set up, with footmen in silver lace, a noticeable chariot, 
 Avhich was chiefly to be used by his sister Frances, and which
 
 xxii SIR JOSHUA EEYXOLDS. 
 
 the sensitive sister Frances said she was " quite ashamed to bo 
 seen in." 
 
 In 1764, Reynolds was founder of the Literary Club; in 1768 
 he saw the attainment of an object for which he had been the 
 foremost labourer, in the foundation of the Royal Academy. He 
 was the founder also of the annual Academy dinner. Of the 
 Royal Academy, which then had its quarters in a print warehouse 
 in Pall Mall, Joshua Reynolds was the first president. He delivered 
 the first of his fifteen Discourses on the 2nd of January, 1769, and 
 on the 21st of the following April, a few days before the opening 
 of the first Academy Exhibition, he was knighted. He left a 
 sitter in his studio when he went to be dubbed, came back at once, 
 and went on with the interrupted Avork. So he worked on, until 
 there came that calling away from which there is no return. He 
 survived his friend Johnson a little more than seven years, and 
 died on the 23rd of February, 1792.]
 
 [JAMES BOSWELL 
 
 was the eldest son of a Scottish Judge of the Supreme Court, 
 who took the title of Lord Auchinleck, from an estate he had in 
 Ayrshire. James Boswell was born on the 29th of October, 1740, 
 two years after Samuel Johnson had begun his struggle in London. 
 After study at the Universities of Edinburgh and Glasgow, Boswell 
 began work upon law in Edinburgh ; but he had social ambitions 
 that were not all ignoble. He desired, indeed, to see life in 
 London as a youth of fashion, but looked up also with humble 
 and generous devotion to men gifted with intellectual power, and 
 singled out such as these for hero worship. Before leaving Scot- 
 land he kept a journal of the sayings of Sir David Dalrymple, 
 afterwards Lord Hailes, with whom he went on circuit. 
 
 In 1760 Boswell came to London, with an allowance from his 
 father of £240 a year, associated v.ith men who were wits in a 
 small way, wrote a little himself, thought he would like to have 
 a commission in a fashionable regiment. He sought to know 
 Samuel Johnson, and in May, 1763, when in his twenty-third 
 year, lie secured Johnson's acquaintance in the way told by 
 himself. Johnson liked the simple homage of a youth whose 
 weaknesses were manifest enough, but in whom there were 
 promptings that might help him to rise to a noble life. It was 
 hard to Boswell at first to sit up till the small hours of the 
 morning, drink a bottle of port wine at a sitting, and keep out of 
 bed in his lodging for the rest of the night to post up records 
 of the wisdom that he had been imbibing with the wine. But 
 Johnson was, in the best sense, Boswell's friend. When the young
 
 xxiv JAMES BOSWELL. 
 
 man's father Avished him to study at Utreclit, Johnson sought 
 kindly but strenuously to nerve him for right effort. A letter 
 of good counsel written by Johnson to Boswell at Utrecht contains 
 this playful summary of Bosweli's previous life. "You know a 
 gentleman who, wdien first he set his foot in the gay world, as he 
 prepared himself to whirl in the vortex of pleasure, imagined a 
 total indifference and universal negligence to be the most agreeable 
 concomitants of youth, and the strongest indication of an airy 
 temper and a quick apprehension. Vacant to every object, and 
 sensible of every impulse, he thought that all appearance of dili- 
 gence would deduct something from the reputation of genius ; and 
 hoped that he should appear to attain, amidst all the ease of care- 
 lessness, and all the tumults of diversion, that knowledge and those 
 accomplishments which mortals of the common fabric obtain only 
 by mute abstraction and solitary drudgery. He tried this scheme 
 of life awhile, was made weary of it by his sense and his virtue ; he 
 then wished to return to his studies ; and finding long habits of 
 idleness and pleasure harder to be cured than he expected, still 
 willing to retain his claim to some extraordinary prerogatives, 
 resolved the common consequences of irregularity into an unal- 
 terable decree of destiny, and concluded that Nature had originally 
 formed him incapable of I'ational employment. Let all such 
 fancies, illusive and destructive, be banished henceforward from 
 your thoughts for ever. Resolve, and keep your resolution; 
 choose, and pursue your choice." 
 
 Boswell remained, at Utrecht, what he had been in London. 
 He left Utreclit, and travelled as a gentleman at ease. When in 
 France he visited Voltaire and Rousseau. He went to Corsica, 
 and there settled for a time his hero worship on the patriot 
 Pasquale de Paoli, Paoli had in 1755 been elected generalissimo 
 ngainst the Genoese, and then maintained the indejoendence of 
 the Corsicans. At last the Genoese ceded the island to France, 
 France brought an overwhelming force against the patriots, and 
 Paoli came to England as an exile. Bosweli's strength was in his 
 enthusiasm for the patriot, and in the use of it his weaknesses 
 appeared. He came back to England in 1766, published in 1768 
 his Acco2int of Corsica, Jouriial of a Tour to that Island, and
 
 JAMES BOSWELL. xxv 
 
 Memoirs of Pascal Paoli. He talked Corsica for a time, found 
 conspicuous occasion for wearing Corsican dress, and aimed at 
 social distinction as " Corsican Boswell." 
 
 In 1769 James Boswell married. In 1773 he was with Johnson 
 in the Hebrides, taking notes by the way that appeared in the year 
 after Johnson's death. Johnson died on the 13th of December, 
 1784. In 1785 Boswell published The Journal of a Tour to the 
 Hebrides with Samuel Johnson, of Avhich there was a second edition 
 in the same year, and a third in the next year, 1786. 
 
 After careful digestion of his notes, Boswell next produced, in 
 1791, his Life of Samuel Johnson in two quarto volumes. Sir John 
 Hawkins, Avho had been a member of the Literary Club, was one 
 of Johnson's executors, and had access to many of Johnson's papers, 
 published a Life of Samuel Johnson in 1787, while Boswell was busy 
 with the jjreparation of his book. It contained some useful informa- 
 tion, but Boswell, considering himself to have been in some degree 
 forestalled by a rival, speaks of the book always viciously. A half 
 unconscious jealousy of Johnson's regard for Goldsmith causes him 
 also to show the weaker side of his character whenever Gold- 
 smith is referred to. But, in fact, the strength of Boswell's book, 
 considering its nature, is the greater for the weaknesses of its 
 compiler. They are all transparent, and they help to assure the 
 fidelity of his report. A stronger man might easily have spoilt 
 the book by sitting in independent judgment upon men and things, 
 or by artistic grouping of details to bring out significance of his own 
 finding, and might so have obscured with his own strong jDerson- 
 ality the figure of the person he described. Boswell also, no 
 doubt, gives his oijinions ; but nobody minds them. His pervading 
 personality serves as a foil to the strength of which he records 
 the evidence with marvellous fidelity. When Boswell comments 
 seriously upon lively phrases in which a spirit of fun has dictated 
 some whimsical exaggeration, we see only the more vividly some 
 flashes of a kind of light in Johnson that has a charm unknown to 
 his watchful biographer. Partly it was the reaction from a state of 
 deep depression that raised Johnson at times into a boyish mood of 
 fun, with a man's intellect for the expression of it. The record in 
 Boswell's book is perfect, and it not only shows a strong man in his
 
 xxvi JAMES BOSWELL. 
 
 strength, but fortunate in its weaknesses, and in its kindly 
 simplicity, is able to present Johnson himself to our unbiassetl 
 judgment. 
 
 In 1793, Boswell produced, with additions, a second edition 
 of his Life of Jolinson, in three volumes 8vo., and was preparing 
 a third when he died on the 19th of May, 1795. Of his second 
 edition the Preface was as follows :]
 
 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 That I was anxious for the success of a Work which had 
 employed much of my time and labour, I do not wish to 
 conceal : but whatever doubts I at any time entertained, have 
 been entirely removed by the very favourable reception with 
 which it has been honoured. That reception has excited my 
 best exertions to render my Book more perfect ; and in this 
 endeavour I have had the assistance not only of some of my 
 particular friends, but of many other learned and ingenious men, 
 by which I have been enabled to rectify some mistakes, and to 
 enrich the Work with many valuable additions. These I have 
 ordered to be printed separately in quarto, for the accommoda- 
 tion of the purchasers of the first edition. May I be permitted 
 to say that the typography of both editions does honour to the 
 press of Mr. Henry Baldwin, now Master of the Worshipful 
 Company of Stationers, whom I have long known as a worthy 
 man and an obliging friend. 
 
 In the strangely mixed scenes of human existence, our feelings 
 are often at once pleasing and painful. Of this truth, the progress 
 of the present Work furnishes a striking instance. It was highly 
 gratifying to me that my friend. Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS, to whom 
 it is inscribed, lived to peruse it, and to give the strongest testi- 
 mony to its fidelity ; but before a second edition, Avhich he 
 contributed to improve, could be finished, the world has been 
 deprived of that most valuable man ; a loss of which the regret 
 will be deep, and lasting, and extensive, proportionate to the 
 felicity which he diffused through a wide circle of admirers 
 and friends. 
 
 In reflecting that the illustrious subject of this Work, by being 
 more extensively and intimately known, however elevated before, 
 has risen in the veneration and love of mankind, I feel a satis- 
 faction beyond what fame can afford. We cannot, indeed, too 
 much or too often admire his wonderful powers of mind, when
 
 xxviii ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 we consider that the principal store of wit and wisdom whicli 
 this work contains, was not a particular selection from his general 
 conversation, but was merely his occasional talk at such times 
 as I had the good fortune to be in his company ; and, without 
 doubt, if his discourse at other periods had been collected with 
 the same attention, the whole tenour of what he uttered would 
 have been found equally excellent. 
 
 His strong, clear, and animated enforcement of religion, 
 morality, loyalty, and subordination, while it delights and 
 improves the wise and the good, will, I trust, prove an effectual 
 antidote to that destestable sophistry which has been lately 
 imported from France, under the false name of PJiilosopJiy, and 
 with a malignant industry has been employed against the peace, 
 good order, and happiness of society, in our free and prosperous 
 country; but, thanks be to GOD, without producing the pernicious 
 effects which were hoped for by its propagators. 
 
 It seems to me, in my moments of self-complacency, that this 
 extensive biographical work, however inferior in its nature, may 
 in one respect be assimilated to the Odyssey. Amidst a thou- 
 sand entertaining and instructive episodes, the Hero is never 
 long out of sight ; for they are all in some degree connected with 
 him ; and He, in the whole course of the History, is exhibited 
 by the Authour for the best advantage of his readers : 
 
 ■ — Quid 7'irins et quid sapiciitia possit, 
 Utile proposuit nobis exemplar Ulyssen. 
 
 Should there be any cold-blooded and morose mortals who 
 really dislike this Book, I will give them a story to apply. 
 When the great DUKE of MARLBOROUGH, accompanied by 
 Lord CadoGAN, was one day reconnoitring the army in Flanders, 
 a heavy rain came on, and they both called for their cloaks. 
 Lord Cadogan's servant, a good humoured alert lad, brought 
 his Lordship's in a minute. The Duke's servant, a lazy sulky dog, 
 was so sluggish, that his Grace, being wet to the skin, reproved 
 him, and had for answer with a grunt, " I came as fast as I 
 could ; " upon which the Duke calmly said, — " CadOGAN, I 
 would not for a thousand pounds have that fellow's temper." 
 
 There are some men, I believe, who have, or think they have, 
 a very small share of vanity. Such may speak of their literary 
 fame in a decorous style of diffidence. But I confess, that I am 
 so formed by nature and by habit, that to restrain the effusion 
 of delight, on having obtained such fame, to me would be truly 
 painful. Why then should I suppress it? Why "out of the 
 abundance of the heart" should 1 not speak? Let me then
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. x:dx 
 
 mention with a warm, but no insolent exultation, that I have 
 been regaled with spontaneous praise of my work by many and 
 various persons eminent for their ranlc, learning, talents, and 
 accomplishments ; much of which praise I have under their 
 hands to be reposited in my archives at AiicJiinlcck. An hon- 
 ourable and reverend friend speaking of the favourable recep- 
 tion of my volumes, even in the circles of f ishion and elegance, 
 said to me, "you hav^e made them all talk Johnson." — Yes, I 
 may add, I have Johnsoniscd the land ; and I trust they will not 
 only talk, but think, Johnson. 
 
 To enumerate those to whom I have been thus indebted 
 would be tediously ostentatious. I cannot, however, but name 
 one, whose praise is truly valuable, not only on account of his 
 knowledge and abilities, but on account of the magnificent, yet 
 dangerous embassy, in which he is now employed, which makes 
 every thing that relates to him peculiarly interesting. LORD 
 Macartney favoured me with his own copy of my book, with, 
 a number of notes, of which I have availed myself. On the first 
 leaf I found in his Lordship's handwriting, an inscription of such 
 high commendation, that even I, vain as I am, cannot prevail 
 on myself to publish it. 
 
 [July I, I793-]
 
 [EDMOND M ALONE. 
 
 Boswell's successor in the editino; of successive re-issues of the 
 TAfe of Johnson was Edmoncl Malone, a younger man, who was born 
 in Dublin on the 4th of October, 17-il. He was the second son of 
 n barrister who became in 1766 one of the judges of the Irisli 
 Court of Common Pleas, and who held that office until his death 
 in 1774. In 1758 Edmond Malone took his B.A. degree at Trinity 
 College, Dublin. In 1759 he came to England with his father, 
 whose health needed change, and travelled about the midland 
 counties. \. Then he was studying again in Ireland before he 
 returned to London, and was entered of the Inner Temj^le in 1763. 
 Two years later his mother, who had remained in England, died 
 at Bath. 
 
 In Edmund Southwell, a younger brother of an Irish peer, 
 Malone had a friend who was among the friends of Johnson. 
 Southwell had been a cornet of horse, but left the army after 
 having killed a man in a duel, and lived on his wits. His Avits 
 were lively, but his liveliness, like Johnson's, was often a reaction 
 from deep depression of mind. The slain man lay unburied in his 
 memory. He haunted coffee-houses, was pitied and liked ; even 
 a tavern-keeper suffered him to run up an ideal score for dinners. 
 A kindly friend relieved the trouble of his last years with a pension 
 of a hundred pounds. Johnson looked upon poor Southwell as 
 penitent, religious, and well-bred, and he was very kind to him. To 
 Malone also Southwell appeared to be a pious man, and it was by 
 Southwell that Malone, at the age of twenty-five, was introduced 
 to Johnson, in the year 1766. It was the year after Johnson had 
 produced his edition of Shakespeare. In the autumn of the same 
 year, 1766, Malone travelled with the son and grandson of Lord
 
 XXX ;i EDMOKD M ALONE. 
 
 Southwell to the south of Franco. Soon after his father had 
 become the Honourable ]\Ir. Justice ilalone, Edmond was called to 
 the Irish Bar. The death of his father in 1774 gave Malone a 
 modest independence, and the death of an uncle in 1776 gave 
 to his elder brother a family seat and a fortune. 
 
 Malone, drawn especially towards study of Shakespeare, left 
 Ireland in 1777, and settled in London, living first for a couple of 
 years at No. 7, Marylebone Street, and then for the rest of his life 
 at 55, Queen Arm Street, East, afterwards called Foley Place. 
 Acquaintance with Sir Joshua Reynolds now ripened to intimacy. 
 George Steevens, in whose work on Shakespeare Malone took the 
 most friendly interest, had published in 1766 twenty of Shake- 
 speare's plays, reprinted from the quartos. In 1770, Steevens's notes 
 on Shakespeare were incorporated with those of Johnson in an 
 edition in ten volumes. In 1780 Malone joublished in two stout 
 volumes a Supplement to the Edition of Shalicsjpeare s Plays hy 
 Sanuicl Johnson and George Steevens, half of the first volume con- 
 taining supplemental observations on the plays, actors, and theatres 
 of the time. In 1782, two years before the death of Johnson, 
 Malone became a member of the Literary Club. Johnson and 
 Malone were of one mind as to the Rowley forgeries, they 
 exchanged thoughts on Shakespeare, and what intercourse there 
 was between them deepened Malone's reverence for his dying 
 friend. " Next to Shakespeare," said a lady, who is quoted by 
 Sir James Prior in his Life of Malone, " Dr. Johnson appeared 
 to be the great object of his admiration. He had often visited 
 him in Bolt Court, and in a morning's stroll took me to view the 
 exterior of the house. On one occasion the Doctor, during the 
 decline of his health, proving unusually silent, Malone rose to 
 retire, believing him to be in pain, or his jDresence inconvenient. 
 ' Pray, sir,' said Johnson, ' be seated. I cannot talk, but I like to 
 see you there.' On two or three occasions, also, he had managed 
 the breakfast tea-kettle when Levett was absent or otherwise 
 encrased. Mr. Malone had several engravings of Dr. Johnson 
 in his study." Malone, who then knew nothing of Boswell, was 
 also tempted to set down notes from Johnson's talk, to which he 
 afterwards added notes from the talk of other men, thus making 
 a collection of Maloniana..
 
 EDMOND MALONE. xxxiii 
 
 In the spring of 1783 Malone published about seventy pages as 
 A Second Appendix to Mr. Malone s Supplement to the last Edition 
 of the Plays of Shakespeare. He was at work also upon a memoir 
 of Oliver Goldsmith. In 1785 Malone became acquainted with 
 James Boswell. They met first at a printing-ofiice where Boswell 
 was correcting a proof-sheet of the Tour to the Hebrides. Acquaint- 
 ance became friendship, and when Boswell was carefully revising 
 his notes for his Life of Johnson he secured Malone's help, not 
 only in adding matter to the notes and text, but also in the whole 
 labour of jDreparation and revision. Boswell's letters to his friend 
 Temple show how closely he associated Malone with himself in the 
 shaping of his notes into a finished biography. He wrote in Janu- 
 ary, 1789 : " Whenever I have completed the rough draft, by which 
 I mean the work without nice correction, Malone and I are to pre- 
 pare one half perfectly, and then it goes to press." Again, in the 
 following July, he wrote : " I may perhaps come to you in autumn 
 if Malone goes to Ireland, so that the revising of Johnson's Life 
 cannot proceed till mnter." And in October : " Malone, who 
 obligingly revises my Life of Johnson, is to go to Ireland when 
 his Shakespeare is published, which will be about Christmas. I 
 am, therefore, to get as much of his time as may be while he 
 remains, as he may not return from Ireland till the summer. 
 Yesterday afternoon Malone and I revised and made ready for 
 the press thirty pages of Johnsons Life. He is much pleased with 
 it ; but I feel a sad indifference, and he says I have not the use 
 of my faculties." Again in November he wrote, " The revision 
 of my Life of Johnson by so acute and knowing a critic as 
 Mr. Malone is of most essential consequence, especially as he is 
 Johnsonianissimtts." 
 
 In November, 1790, appeared in ten volumes Malone's edition 
 of The Plays and Poems of William Shakespeare. Next year 
 came Boswell's Johnson. After Boswell's death in 1795, care 
 over the next editions of the Life of Johnson rested wholly on 
 Malone. Boswell had, when he died, intnisted to Malone the care 
 over his writings, and the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth editions 
 of the Life were issued by Malone, with these advertisements 
 prefixed : — ] 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 Several valuable letters, and other curious matter, having 
 been communicated to the Authour too late to be arranged in that 
 chronological order which he had endeavoured uniformly to 
 observe in his work, he was obliged to introduce them in his 
 Second Edition, by way of ADDENDA, as commodiously as he 
 could. In the present edition they have been distributed in their 
 proper places. In revising his volumes for a new edition he had 
 pointed out where some of these materials should be inserted ; 
 but unfortunately, in the midst of his labours, he was seized with 
 a fever, of which, to the great regret of all his friends, he died 
 on the 19th of May, 1795. All the Notes that he had written in 
 the margin of the copy which he had in part revised, are here 
 faithfully preserved ; and a few new Notes have been added, 
 principally by some of those friends to whom the Authour in the 
 former editions acknowledged his obligations. Those subscribed 
 with the letter B. were communicated by Dr. Burnev ; those to 
 which the letters J. B. are annexed, by the Rev. J. B. Blakeway, 
 of Shrewsbury, to whom Mr. BOSWELL acknowledged himself 
 indebted for some judicious remarks on the first edition of his 
 
 work : and the letters J. B . O. are annexed to some remarks 
 
 furnished by the Authour's second son, a Student of Brazen-Nose 
 College in Oxford. Some valuable observations were communi- 
 cated by James Bindley, Esq., First Commissioner in the 
 Stamp-Office, which have beeja acknowledged in their proper 
 places. For all those without any signature, Mr, Malone is 
 answerable, — Every new remark, not written by the Authour, for 
 the sake of distinction has been enclosed within crotchets ; in 
 one instance, however, the printer, by mistake, has affixed this 
 mark to a note relative to the Rev. Thomas Fysche Palmer, 
 (see vo/. iv. p. 92) which was written by Mr, BosWELL, and 
 therefore ought not to have been thus distinguished, 
 
 I have only to add, that the proof-sheets of the present edition
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. xxxv 
 
 not having passed through my hands, I am not answerable for 
 any typographical errours that may be found in it. Having, 
 however, been printed at the very accurate press of Mr. Baldwin, 
 I make no doubt it will be found not less perfect than the 
 former edition , the greatest care having been taken, by correct- 
 ness and elegance, to do justice to one of the most instructive 
 and entertaining works in the English language. 
 
 EDM. M ALONE. 
 April 8, 1799. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 In this edition are inserted some new letters, of which the 
 greater part has been obligingly communicated by the Reverend 
 Doctor Vyse, Rector of Lambeth. Those written by Dr. JOHNSON 
 concerning his mother in her last illness, furnish a new proof of 
 his great piety and tenderness of heart, and therefore cannot but 
 be acceptable to the readers of this very popular work. Some 
 new notes also have been added, which, as well as the observ- 
 ations inserted in the third edition, and the letters now introduced, 
 are carefully included within crotchets, that the authour may not 
 be answerable for any thing which had not the sanction of his 
 approbation. The remarks of his friends are distinguished as 
 formerly, except those of Mr. Malone, to which the letter M. is 
 now subjoined. Those to which the letter K, is affixed were 
 communicated by my learned friend, the Reverend Doctor 
 Kearney, formerly Senior Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin, 
 and now beneficed in the diocese of Raphoe in Ireland, of which 
 he is Archdeacon. 
 
 Of a work which nas been before the publick for thirteen years 
 with increasing approbation, and of which near four thousand 
 copies have been dispersed, it is not necessary to say more ; yet 
 I cannot refrain from adding, that, highly as it is now estimated, 
 it will, I am confident, be still more valued by posterity a century 
 hence, when all the actors in the scene shall be numbered with 
 the dead ; when the excellent and extraordinary man, whose 
 wit and v/isdom are here recorded, shall be viewed at a still 
 greater distance ; and the instruction and entertainment they 
 afford, will at once produce reverential gratitude, admiration, 
 and delight. 
 
 E. M. 
 
 June 20. 1804. 
 
 C 2
 
 xxxvi ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 In this fifth edition some errours of the press, which had crept 
 into the text and notes, in consequence of repeated impressions, 
 have been corrected. Two letters written by Dr. JOHNSON, and 
 several new notes have been added ; by which, it is hoped, this 
 valuable work is still further improved. 
 
 E. M. 
 
 January i, 1807. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SIXTH EDITION. 
 
 Great pains have been taken to make this sixth edition 
 accurate, in point of typography. With this view the entire 
 work has been read over by the authour's second son, James 
 BOSWELL, of the Inner Temple, Esq. ; by which means many 
 errours of the press, occasioned by repeated impressions, have 
 been discovered. All these have been carefully amended. 
 Several new notes and some letters have been added ; and 
 in the Index, — a very useful appendage to a book containing 
 so much miscellaneous and unconnected matter, — many new 
 articles have been inserted. 
 
 By these improvements the present impression has been 
 rendered the amplest, and, it is hoped, will be found the 
 most correct edition of this valuable work, which has yet 
 appeared. 
 
 E. M. 
 Foley Place, May 2, 181 1.
 
 [ALEXANDEE CHALMEKS. 
 
 Edmond Malone died at the age of seventy-one, on the 25th of 
 May, 1812, a year after the publication by him of the sixth edition 
 of the Life, of Johnson. The seventh and eighth editions were re- 
 prints. The ninth was edited by Alexander Chalmers, the son of 
 a printer at Aberdeen. Alexander Chalmers was born at Aberdeen 
 in 1759, and at the age of seventeen declined an office as assistant- 
 surgeon in the West Indies, went to London, became active as a 
 journalist, edited papers, did much work for booksellers, and espe- 
 cially produced, between 1812 and 1817, the General Biographical 
 Dictionary which bears his name. He died in 1884. The ninth 
 edition of Boswell's Johnson was produced by him in 1822, in four 
 volumes 8vo., with careful superintendence of the text, and a few 
 slight touches of added annotation.]
 
 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE NINTH EDITION. 
 
 In Mr. Boswell's Advertisement to the first edition of 
 this work, he laments the death of some of Dr. Johnson's 
 friends, " to whom it would have been most interesting." Since 
 that period, which Mr. BOSWELL himself did not long survive, 
 the grave has closed upon almost the whole of the eminent and 
 affectionate friends who delighted to cherish the memory of 
 Johnson, and were accustomed to derive pleasure from the 
 recollection of those colloquial scenes which Mr. BoswELL has 
 so accurately delineated. 
 
 At the prese'nt time, not above four or five are living who had 
 any personal knowledge of Dr. Johnson or of those whose names 
 occurred in the first edition of his life, as his then surviving 
 friends and companions. It became necessary therefore, in 
 preparing this edition for the press, to follow the example of 
 Mr, Malone, the last editor, and insert notices of the deaths of 
 the principal characters. Mr. Malone has said, probably with 
 great justice, that, highly as the work is now estimated, "it will 
 be still more valued by posterity a century hence, when all the 
 actors in the scene shall be numbered with the dead." 
 
 From the Second Edition, the last which Mr. Boswell lived to 
 superintend, Mr. MALONE continued to revise and improve the 
 work as far as the sixth, published a few months before his 
 death. To that edition, the present Editor, at Mr. Malone'S 
 request, contributed a few notes and corrections ; and has now 
 added many more, as well as some additional particulars that 
 may be found useful in illustrating those passages which, in the 
 lapse of time, are becoming obscure. 
 
 In this undertaking, the Editor had to lament the death of 
 the Authour's youngest son, ]\Ir. James BoSWELL, who inherited 
 all his father's veneration for Dr. Johnson, and contributed
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. xxxix 
 
 many ingenious notes to the preceding edition. He died in 
 February last, a very few weeks before that fatal event which 
 deprived the world of his elder brother, Sir Alexander 
 BOSWELL, Bart. The many passages in this work, in which the 
 cause of Sir Alexander's untimely death is discussed, cannot 
 fail to be now read with additional interest. 
 
 Alex. Chalmers. 
 
 June 24, 1822.
 
 [JOHN WILSON CEOKEE. 
 
 After Chalmers's edition of Boswell's Johnson came in 1826 
 a tenth, also in four volumes 8vo., printed at Oxford, and edited 
 with some additional notes by F. P. Walesby, of Wadham College. 
 In 1831 followed the edition by John Wilson Croker, by whose 
 industry the gap of time was bridged, and names or allusions that 
 were passing out of memory have been brought again for modern 
 readers into Kving association with the substance of the book. 
 
 John Wilson Croker was, like Malone, an Irishman. He was 
 born at Galway on the 20th of December, 1780, and he died on 
 the 10th of August, 1857. He was the only son of John Croker, 
 Surveyor-General of Ireland, and was educated at Trinity College, 
 Dublin, where he graduated in the year 1800. He then entered 
 to Lincoln's Inn, and he was called to the Irish Bar in 1802. He 
 had a lively critical temper, and amused Dublin in 1803 with 
 Familiar Epistles to J. F. Jones, Esquire, on the State of the Irish 
 Stage. He published also in 1805 a satire on Dublin society, as 
 Intercepted Letters from China. In. 1807 he wrote on The State 
 of Ireland, Past and Present. He was an advocate of Catholic 
 Emancipation, and obtained m 1808, by petition, a seat for Down- 
 patrick that had been lost at the poll. In 1809, by a defence of 
 the Duke of York, he obtained the duke's patronage and the post 
 of Secretary to the Admiralty, which he held for twenty years. 
 He sat in Parliament for several constituencies, and in 1827 repre- 
 sented the University of Dublin. In 1828 he was made a Privy 
 Councillor. In 1830 he retired, as the Right Hon. John Wilson 
 Croker, from his post of Secretary to the Admiralty, on a pension 
 of £1,500 a year. His edition of Boswell appeared in the following
 
 xlii JOHN WILSON CROKER. 
 
 year. He was a stout Tory, stout and bitter. As he would not 
 sit in a reformed Parliament, he retired from public life in 1832, 
 but he remained active with his pen, was, as he had long been, an 
 active contributor to the Quarterly Bevieiv ; and however he might 
 be attacked by clever men, whose prejudices in an opposite direc- 
 tion were not weaker than his own, it was not only in his edition 
 of Boswell that he showed his strength. Every subsequent edition 
 of Boswell's Johnson must have to declare its debts to the zeal and 
 industry with which Croker worked for the elucidation of the text. 
 It is a small matter to expunge the little bitternesses of opinion 
 that are best away — and they are all removed from this edition — 
 but it would be a great matter to omit either the notes added by 
 him with so much care to the previous collections, or the thanks 
 due to him from all students of Boswell's Johnson^
 
 PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. 
 
 It were superfluous to expatiate on the merits, at least as a 
 source of amusement, of Boswell's Life of fohnson. What- 
 ever doubts may have existed as to the prudence or the propriety 
 of the original publication — however naturally private confidence 
 was alarmed, or individual vanity offended, the voices of criticism 
 and complaint were soon drowned in the general applause. And 
 no wonder — the work combines within itself the four most 
 entertaining classes of writing — biography, memoirs, familiar 
 letters, and that assemblage of literary anecdotes which the 
 French have taught us to distinguish by the termination Ana. 
 
 It was originally received with an eagerness and relished with 
 a zest which undoubtedly were sharpened by the curiosity which 
 the unexpected publication of the words and deeds of so many 
 persons still living could not but excite. But this motive has 
 gradually become weaker, and may now be said to be extinct ; 
 yet we do not find that the popularity of the work, though 
 somewhat changed in quality, is really diminished ; and as the 
 interval which separates us from the actual time and scene 
 increases, so appear to increase the interest and delight which 
 we feel at being introduced, as it were, into that distinguished 
 society of which Dr. Johnson formed the centre, and of which 
 his biographer is the historian. 
 
 But though every year thus adds to the interest and instruction 
 which this work affords, something is, on the other hand, deducted 
 from the amusement which it gives, by the gradual obscurity 
 that time throws over the persons and incidents of private life : 
 many circumstances known to all the world when Mr. Boswell 
 wrote are already obscure to the best informed, and wholly 
 forgotten by the rest of mankind. 
 
 For instance, when he relates that a " great personage " called 
 the English Divines of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries 
 " Giants," we. conclude that George III. was the great personage ;
 
 xliv PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. 
 
 but all my inquiries (and some of His Majesty's illustrious 
 family have condescended to permit these inquiries to extend 
 even to them) have failed to ascertain to what person or on 
 what occasion that happy expression was used. 
 
 Again : When Mr, Boswell's capricious delicacy induced him 
 to suppress names and to substitute such descriptions as " an 
 eminent friend," "a young gentleman," "a distinguished orator," 
 these were well understood by the society of the day ; but it is 
 become necessary to apprise the reader of our times, that Mr. 
 Burke, Mr, Sheridan, and Mr. Fox were respectively meant. 
 Nor is it always easy to appropriate Mr. Boswell's circumlocu- 
 tory designations. It will be seen in the course of this work, 
 that several of them have become so obscure that even the 
 surviving members of the Johnsonian Society were unable to 
 recollect who were meant, and it was on one of these occasions 
 that Sir James Mackintosh told me that "my work had, at leasts 
 7iot come too soon'' 
 
 Mr, Boswell's delicacy is termed capricious, because he is on 
 some occasions candid even to indiscretion, and on others 
 unaccountably mysterious. In the report of a conversation he 
 will clearly designate half the interlocutors, while the other half, 
 without any apparent reason, he casts into studied obscurity. 
 
 Considering himself to be (as he certainly has been to a 
 greater degree than he could have contemplated) one of the 
 distributors of fame, he has sometimes indulged his partialities 
 or prejudices by throwing more or less light, and lights more or 
 less favourable, on the different persons of his scene ; some of 
 whom he obtrudes into broad day, while others he only " adum- 
 brates" by imperfect allusions. But many, even of those the 
 most clearly designated and spoken of as familiar to every eye 
 and ear, have already lived their day, and are hardly to be heard 
 of except in this work. Yet this w^ork must be read with 
 imperfect pleasure, without some knowledge of the history of 
 those more than half-forgotten persons. 
 
 Facts, too, fade from memory as well as names ; and fashions 
 and follies are still more transient. But, in a book mainly 
 composed of familiar conversation, how large a portion must 
 bear on the facts, the follies, and the fashions of the time ! 
 
 To clear up these obscurities — to supply these deficiencies — to 
 retrieve obsolete and to collect scattered circumstances — and so 
 to restore to the work as much as possible of its original clearness 
 and freshness, were the main objects of the present Editor. I 
 am but too well aware how unequal I am to the task, and how 
 imperfectly I have accomplished it. But as the time was rapidly 
 passing away in which any aid could be expected from the
 
 PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. xlv 
 
 contemporaries of Johnson, or even of Boswell, I determined to 
 undertake the work — believing that, however ill I might perform 
 it I should still do it better than, twenty years later, it could be 
 done by any diligence of research or any felicity of conjecture. 
 
 But there were also deficiencies to be supplied. Notwithstand- 
 ing the diligence and minuteness with which Mr. Boswell detailed 
 what he saw of Dr. Johnson's life, his book left large chasms. 
 It must be recollected that they never resided in the same 
 neighbourhood, and that the detailed account of Johnson's 
 domestic life and conversation is limited to the opportunities 
 afforded by Mr. Boswell's occasional visits to London — by the 
 Scottish Tour — and by one meeting at Dr. Taylor's in Derby- 
 shire. Of above tzventy years, therefore, that their acquaintance 
 lasted, periods equivalent in the whole to about three-quarters of 
 a year only fell under the personal notice of Boswell — and thus 
 has been left many a long hiatus — valde defiendus, and now, alas, 
 quite irreparable ! 
 
 Mr. Boswell endeavoured, indeed, to fill up these chasms as 
 well as he could with letters, memoranda, notes, and anecdotes 
 collected from every quarter ; but the appearance of his work 
 was so long delayed, that Sir John Hawkins, Mrs. Piozzi, Dr. 
 Strahan, Mr, Tyers, Mr, Nichols, and many others, had antici- 
 pated much of what he would have been glad to tell. Some 
 squabbles about copyright had warned him that he must not 
 avail himself of their publications ; and he was on such bad 
 terms with his rival biographers that he could not expect any 
 assistance or countenance from them. He nevertheless went 
 as far as he thought the law would allow in making frequent 
 quotations from the preceding publications ; but as to all the 
 rest, which he did not venture to appropriate to his own use — 
 the grapes were sour — and he took every opportunity of repre- 
 senting the anecdotes of his rivals as extremely inaccurate and 
 generally undeserving of credit. 
 
 It is certain that none of them have attained — indeed they 
 do not pretend to — that extreme verbal accuracy with which 
 Mr. Boswell had, by great zeal and dihgence, learned to record 
 conversations ; nor in the details of facts are they so precise as 
 Mr, Boswell, with good reason, claims to be. After all, however, 
 Mr. Bosv/ell himself is not exempt from those errors — 
 
 quas aut incuria fudit, 
 
 Aut hurnana parum c-avit natura ,; 
 
 and an attentive examination and collation of the authorities 
 (and particularly of Mr. Boswell's own) produced the final
 
 xlvi PREFACE TO MR. CROKERS EDITION. 
 
 conviction that the minor biographers are entitled not merely to 
 more credit than Mr. BosvvcU allows them, but to as much as any 
 person writing from recollection, and not from notes made at the 
 moment, can be. 
 
 But much the largest, and, for the purpose of filling up the 
 intervals of his private history., the most valuable part of Dr. 
 Johnson's correspondence was out of Boswell's reach, namely, 
 that which he for twenty years maintained with Mrs. Thrale, and 
 which- she published in 1788, in two volumes octavo. For 'the 
 copyright of these, Mr. Boswcll says, in a tone of admiring 
 envy, "she received five hundred pounds." The publication, 
 however, was not very successful — it never reached a second 
 edition, and is now almost forgotten. But through these letters 
 are scattered almost the only information we have relative to 
 Johnson during the long intervals between Mr. Boswell's visits ; 
 and from them he has occasionally but cautiously (having the 
 fear of the copyright law before his eyes), made interesting 
 extracts. 
 
 These letters being now public property, I have been at liberty 
 to follow up Mr. Boswell's imperfect example, and have there- 
 fore made numerous and copious selections from them, less as 
 specimens of Johnson's talents for letter-writing, than as notices 
 of his domestic and social life during the intervals of Mr. Boswell's 
 narrative. Indeed, as letters, few of Johnson's can have any 
 great charm for the common reader; they are full of good sense 
 and good nature, but in forms too didactic and ponderous to be 
 very amusing. In the extracts which I have made from Mrs. 
 Thrale's correspondence, I have been guided entirely by the 
 object of completing the history of Johnson's life. 
 
 The most important addition, however, which I have made is 
 one that needs no apology — the incorporation with the Life 
 of the whole of the Totcr to the Hebrides, which Boswell 
 published in one volume in 1785, and which, no doubt, if he 
 could legally have done so, he would himself have incorporated 
 in the Life — of which indeed he expressly tells us, he looks 
 on the Tour but as a portion. It is only wonderful, that since 
 the copyright has expired, any edition of his Life of foJinson 
 should have been published without the addition of this, the 
 most original, curious, and amusing portion of the whole 
 biography. 
 
 The Prayers and Meditations, published by Dr. Strahan too 
 hastily after Johnson's death, and I think in other respects also, 
 indiscreetly, have likewise been made use of to an extent which 
 was forbidden to Mr. Boswell. What Dr. Strahan calls medita- 
 tions are, in fact, nothing but diaries of the author's moral and
 
 PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. xlvii 
 
 religious state of mind, intermixed v.ith some notices of his 
 bodily health and of the interior circumstances of his domestic 
 life. Mr. Boswell had ventured to quote so7)ie of these : the 
 present edition contains all that appear to offer anything of 
 interest. 
 
 I have also incorporated a diary which Johnson had kept 
 during a Toitr through NortJi Wales, made, in 1775, in company 
 with Mr. Thrale and his family. Mr. Boswell had, it appears, 
 inquired in vain for this diary : if he could have obtained it, he 
 would, no doubt, have inserted it, as he did the similar notes of 
 the Tour in France in the succeeding year. By the liberality of 
 Mr. Duppa, who published it in 1S06, with copious explanatory 
 notes, 1 was enabled to add it to my edition. I have likewise 
 given in the Appendix an Account of Dr. Johnson s early life, 
 written by himself published in 1802, but now become scarce; 
 and I have thrown into the notes or the Appendix a few extracts 
 from other published lives and anecdotes of Dr. Johnson which 
 seemed necessary to complete Boswell's picture. 
 
 But besides these /?7«/£'<^ materials, I have been tavoured with 
 many papers connected with Dr. Johnson, his life, and society, 
 hitherto unpublished. Of course, my first inquiries were directed 
 towards the original manuscript of Mr. Boswell's Journal, which 
 would no doubt have enabled me to fill up all the blanks and 
 clear away much of the obscurity that exist in the printed 
 Life. It was to be hoped that the " archives of Anchinleck," 
 which Mr. Boswell frequently and pompously mentions, would 
 contain the original materials of these works, which he himself, 
 as well as the world at large, considered as his best claims to 
 distinction. And I thought that I was only fulfilling the duties 
 of courtesy in requesting from Mr. Boswell's representative any 
 information which he might be disposed to afford on the subject. 
 To that request I never received any answer : though the same 
 inquiry was afterwards, on my behalf, repeated by Sir Walter 
 Scott, whose influence might have been expected to have pro- 
 duced a more satisfactory result. But w^as more fortunate in 
 other quarters. 
 
 The Reverend Doctor Hall, Master of Pembroke College, was 
 so good as to collate the printed copy of ihQ Prayers and Medita- 
 tions with the original papers, now (most appropriately) deposited 
 in the library of that college, and some, not unimportant, light 
 has been thrown on that publication by the personal inspection 
 of the papers w'hich he permitted me to make. Doctor Hall has 
 also elucidated some facts and corrected some misstatements in 
 Mr. Boswell's account of Johnson's earlier life, by an examina- 
 tion of the college records ; and he has found some of Johnson's
 
 xlviii PREFACE TO MR. CROKERS EDITION. 
 
 Oxford exercises, one or two specimens of which have been 
 selected as likely to interest the classical reader. He has further 
 been so obliging as to select and copy several letters written by 
 Dr. Johnson to his early and constant friends, the daughters 
 of Sir Thomas Aston, which, having fallen into the hands of 
 Mrs. Parker, were by her son, the Reverend S. H. Parker, pre- 
 sented to Pembroke College. The papers derived from this 
 source are marked Pemb. JlISS. Dr. Hall, feeling a fraternal 
 interest in the most illustrious of the sons of Pembroke, continued, 
 as will appear in the course of the work, to favour me with his 
 valuable assistance. 
 
 The Reverend Dr. Harwood, the historian of Lichfield, pro- 
 cured for me, through the favour of Mrs. Pearson, the widow of 
 the legatee of Miss Lucy Porter, many letters addressed to this 
 lady by Johnson ; for which, it seems, Mr. Boswell had inquired 
 in vain. These papers are marked Pearson MSS. Dr. Harwood 
 supplied also some other papers, and much information collected 
 by himself. 
 
 Lord Rokeby, the nephew and heir of Mrs. Montague, 
 was so kind as to communicate Dr. Johnson's letters to that 
 lady. 
 
 Mr, Langton, the grandson of Mr. Bennet Langton, has fur- 
 nished some of his grandfather's papers, and several original 
 MSS. of Dr. Johnson's Latin poetry, which have enabled me to 
 explain some errors and obscurities in the published copies of 
 those compositions. 
 
 Mr. J. F. Palmer, the grand-nephew of Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 and of Miss Reynolds, most liberally communicated all the 
 papers of that lady, containing a number of letters or rather 
 notes of Dr. Johnson to her, which, however trivial in themselves, 
 tend to corroborate all that the biographers have stated of the 
 charity and kindness of his private life. Mr. Palmer also contri- 
 buted a paper of more importance — a MS. of about seventy 
 pages, written by Miss Reynolds, and entitled Recollections of 
 Dr. Johnso7i. The authenticity and general accuracy of these 
 Recollections cannot be doubted, and I had therefore admitted 
 extracts from them into the text of my first edition ; I have now 
 given the whole in the Appendix. 
 
 Mr. Markland has, as the reader will see by the notes to which 
 his name is affixed, favoured me with a great deal of zealous 
 assistance and valuable information. 
 
 He also communicated a copy of Mrs. Piozzi's anecdotes, 
 copiously annotated, propria manu, by Mr. Malone. These 
 notes have been of use in explaining some obscurities ; they 
 guide us also to the source of many of Mr. Bos well's charges 
 
 |{
 
 PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. xlix 
 
 against Mrs. Piozzi ; and have had an effect that Mr. Malone 
 could neither have expected nor wished — that of tending rather 
 to confirm than to impeach that lady's veracity, 
 
 Mr. J. L. Anderdon favoured me with the inspection of a port- 
 folio bought at the sale of the library of Boswell's second son 
 James, which contained some of the original letters, memoranda, 
 and note books, which had been used as materials for the Life. 
 Their chief value, now, is to show that as far as we may judge 
 from this specimen, the printed book is a faithful transcript from 
 the original notes, except only as to the suppression of names. 
 Mr. Anderdon's portfolio also contains Johnson's original draft 
 of the Prospectus of the Dictionary, and a fair copy of it (written 
 by an amanuensis, but signed, in form, by Johnson), addressed 
 to Lord Chesterfield, on which his lordship appears to have 
 made a few critical notes. 
 
 Through the obliging interposition of Mr. Appleyard, private 
 secretary of the second Earl Spencer, Mrs. Rose, the daughter 
 of Dr. Strahan, favoured me with copies of several letters of Dr. 
 Johnson to her father, one or two only of which Mr. Boswell had 
 been able to obtain. 
 
 In addition to these contributions of manuscript materials, I 
 have to acknowledge much and valuable assistance from numerous 
 literary and distinguished friends. 
 
 The venerable Lord Stowell, the friend and executor of Dr. 
 Johnson, was one of the first persons who suggested this work 
 to me : he was pleased to take a great interest in it, and kindly 
 endeavoured to explain the obscurities which were stated to 
 him ; but he confessed, at the same time, that the application 
 had in some instances come rather too late, and regretted that 
 an edition on this principle had not been undertaken when full 
 light might have been obtained. His lordship was also so kind 
 as to dictate, in his own happy and peculiar style, some notes 
 of his recollections of Dr. Johnson. These, by a very unusual 
 accident, were lost, and his lordship's great age and increasing 
 infirmity deterred me from again troubling him on the subject. 
 A few points, however, in which I could trust to my own 
 recollection, will be found in the notes. 
 
 To my revered friend, Dr. Thomas Elrington, Lord Bishop of 
 Feme, I had to offer my thanks for much valuable advice and 
 assistance, and for a continuance of that friendly interest with 
 which his lordship for many years, and in more important 
 concerns, honoured me. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, whose personal kindness to me and inde- 
 fatigable good-nature to every body were surpassed only by his 
 genius, found time from his higher occupations to annotate a 
 
 VOL I. d
 
 1 PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. 
 
 considerable portion of this work — the Toiir to the Hebrides — and 
 continued his aid to the very conclusion of my task. 
 
 The Right Honourable Sir James Mackintosh, whose acquaint- 
 ance with literary men and literary history was so extensive, 
 and who, although not of the Johnsonian circle, became early 
 in life acquainted with most of the survivors of that society, not 
 only approved and encouraged my design,but was, as the reader 
 will see, good enough to contribute to its execution. It were to 
 be wished, that he himself could have been induced to undertake 
 the work — too humble indeed for his powers, but which he was, 
 of all men then living, perhaps, the fittest to execute. 
 
 Mr. Alexander Chalmers, the ingenious and learned editor of 
 the last London edition, gave me, with great candour and liber- 
 ality, all the assistance in his power — regretting and wondering, 
 like Lord Stowell and Sir James Mackintosh, that so much 
 should be forgotten of what at no remote period every body 
 must have known. 
 
 To Mr. Disraeli's love and knowledge of literary history, and 
 to his friendly assistance, I was very much indebted ; as well 
 as to ]\Ir. (now Sir Henry) Ellis of the British Museum, for 
 his readiness on this and other occasions to afford me every 
 information in his power. 
 
 The Marquis Wellesley took an encouraging interest in the 
 work, and improved it by some valuable observations; and the 
 Marquis of Lansdowne, Earl Spencer, Lord Bexley, and Lord 
 St. Helens, the son of Dr. Johnson's early friend Mr. Fitzherbert, 
 were so obliging as to answer some inquiries with which I found 
 it necessary to trouble them. 
 
 Of the value of the notes with which my friends favoured me, 
 I can have no doubt ; of my own, I will only say, that I have 
 endeavoured to make them at once concise and explanatory. I 
 hope I have cleared up some obscurities, supplied some de- 
 ficiencies, and, in many cases, saved the reader the trouble of 
 referring to dictionaries and magazines for notices of the various 
 persons and facts which are incidentally mentioned. 
 
 In some cases I candidly confess, and in many more I fear 
 that I have shown, my own ignorance ; but I can say, that when 
 I have so failed, it has not been for want of diligent inquiry 
 after the desired information. 
 
 I have not considered it any part of my duty to defend or to 
 controvert the statements or opinions recorded in the text ; but 
 in a few instances, in which cither a matter oi fact has been evi- 
 dently misstated, or an important /r/V/r///^ has been heedlessly 
 invaded or too Hghtly treated, I have ventured a few words 
 towards correcting the error. 
 
 I
 
 PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. li 
 
 The desultory nature of the work itself, the repetitions in 
 some instances and the contradictions in others, are perplexing 
 to those who may seek for Dr. Johnson's final opinion on any 
 given subject. This difficulty I could not hope, and have, 
 therefore, not attempted to remove ; it is inevitable in the 
 transcript of table-talk so various, so loose, and so extensive ; 
 but I have endeavoured to alleviate it by occasional references 
 to the different places where the same subject is discussed, and 
 by a copious, and I trust, satisfactory index. 
 
 I have added translations of most if not all the classical 
 quotations in the work — generally from the most approved 
 translators — sometimes, when they did not appear to hit the 
 point in question, I have ventured a version of my own. 
 
 With respect to the spirit towards Dr. Johnson himself by 
 which Lwas actuated, I beg leave to say that I feel and have 
 always felt for him a great, but, I hope, not a blind admiration. 
 For his writings, and especially for his Vanity of Human 
 IVzs/ies, the Prefaces to the Dictionary and Shakespeare, and 
 the Lives of the Poets, that admiration has little or no alloy. 
 In his personal conduct and conversation there may be occa- 
 sionally something to regret and (though rarely) something to 
 disapprove, but less, perhaps, than there would be in those of 
 any other man, whose words, actions, and even thoughts should 
 be exposed to public observation so nakedly as, by a strange 
 concurrence of circumstances. Dr. Johnson's have been. 
 
 Having no domestic ties or duties, the latter portion of his 
 life was, as Mrs. Piozzi observes, nothing but coni'ersation, and 
 that conversation was watched and recorded from night to night 
 and from hour to hour with zealous attention and unceasing 
 diligence. No man, the most staid or the most guarded, is 
 always the same in health, in spirits, in opinions. Human life 
 is a series of inconsistencies ; and when Johnson's early mis- 
 fortunes, his protracted poverty, his strong passions, his violent 
 prejudices, and, above all, his bodily and I may say mental 
 infirmities, are considered, it is only wonderful that a portrait so 
 laboriously minute and so painfully faithful does not exhibit 
 more of blemish, incongruity, and error. 
 
 The life of Dr. Johnson is indeed a most curious chapter in 
 the history of man ; for certainly there is no instance of the life 
 of any other human being having been exhibited in so much 
 detail, or with so much fidelity. There are, perhaps, not many 
 men who have practised so much self-examination as to know 
 themselves as well as every reader knows Dr. Johnson. 
 
 We must recollect that it is not his table-talk or his liter- 
 ary conversations only that have been published : all his most 
 
 d 2
 
 Hi PREFACE TO MR. CROKERS EDITION. 
 
 private and most trifling correspondence — all his most common 
 as well as his most confidential intercourses — all his most secret 
 communion with his own conscience — and even the solemn and 
 contrite exercises of his piety, have been divulged and exhibited 
 to the " garish eye " of the world without reserve — I had almost 
 said, without delicacy. Young, with gloomy candour, has said 
 
 " Heaven's Sovereign saves all beings but himself 
 That hideous sight, a naked human heart." 
 
 What a man must Johnson have been, whose heart, having been 
 laid more bare than that of any other mortal ever was, has 
 passed so little blemished through so terrible an ordeal ! 
 
 But while we contemplate with such interest this admirable 
 and perfect portrait, let us not forget the painter. Mr. Burke 
 told Sir James Mackintosh that he thought Johnson showed 
 more powers of mind in company than in his writings, and on 
 another occasion said, that he thought Johnson appeared greater 
 in Boswell's volumes than even in his own. 
 
 It was a strange and fortunate concurrence, that one so prone 
 to talk and who talked so well, should be brought into such close 
 contact and confidence with one so zealous and so able to record. 
 Dr. Johnson was a man of extraordinary powers, but Mr. Boswell 
 had qualities, in their own way, almost as rare. He united 
 lively manners with indefatigable diligence, and the volatile 
 curiosity of a vian about tozun with the drudging patience of a 
 chronicler. With a very good opinion of himself, he was quick 
 in discerning, and frank in applauding, the excellences of others. 
 Though proud of his own name and lineage, and ambitious of 
 the countenance of the great, he was yet so cordial an admirer 
 of merit, wherever found, that much public ridicule, and some- 
 thing like contempt, were excited by the modest assurance with 
 which he pressed his acquaintance on all the notorieties of his 
 time, and by the ostentatious (but in the main, laudable) assiduity 
 with which he attended the exile Paoli and the low-born 
 Johnson ! These were amiable, and, for us, fortunate inconsis- 
 tencies. His contemporaries indeed, not without some colour of 
 reason, occasionally complained of him as vain, inquisitive, 
 troublesome, and giddy ; but his vanity was inoffensive — his 
 curiosity was commonly directed towards laudable objects — 
 when he meddled, he did so, generally, from good-natured 
 motives — his giddiness was only an exuberant gaiety, which 
 never failed in the respect and reverence due to literature, 
 morals, and religion : and posterity gratefully acknowledges the 
 taste, temper, and talents with which he selected, enjoyed, and
 
 PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. liii 
 
 described that polished and intellectual society which still liv^es 
 in his work, and without his work had perished ! 
 
 " Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona 
 Multi : sed oinnes illacrymabiles 
 Urgenter, ignotique longa 
 Nocte, carent quia vate sacro." 
 
 Such imperfect though interesting sketches as Ben Jonsons 
 visit to Drummond, Selden's Table Talk, Swift's Journal, and 
 Spence's Anecdotes, only tantalise our curiosity and excite our 
 regret that there was no Boszvell to preserve the conversation 
 and illustrate the life and times of Addison, of Swift himself, of 
 Milton, and, above all, of Shakespeare ! We can hardly refrain 
 from indulging ourselves with the imagination of works so in- 
 structive and delightful ; but that were idle ; except as it may 
 tend to increase our obligation to the faithful and fortunate 
 biographer of Dr. Johnson. 
 
 Mr. Boswell's birth and education familiarised him with the 
 highest of his acquaintance, and his good-nature and conviviality 
 with the lowest. He describes society of all classes with the 
 happiest discrimination. Even his foibles assisted his curiosity ; 
 he was sometimes laughed at, but always well received ; he 
 excited no envy, he imposed no restraint. It was well known 
 that he made notes of every conversation, yet no timidity was 
 seriously alarmed, no delicacy demurred ; and we are perhaps 
 indebted to the lighter parts of his character for the patient 
 indulgence with which every body submitted to sit for their 
 pictures. 
 
 Mr. Boswell took, indeed, extraordinary and most laudable 
 pains to attain accuracy. Not only did he commit to paper at 
 night the conversation of the day, but even in general society 
 he would occasionally take a note of anything remarkable that 
 occurred ; and he afterwards spared no trouble in arranging and 
 supplying the inevitable deficiencies of these hasty memoranda. 
 
 Nor were his talents inconsiderable. He had looked a good 
 deal into books, and more into the world. The narrative portion 
 of his works is written with good sense, in an easy and per- 
 spicuous style, and without (which seems odd enough) any 
 palpable imitation of Johnson. But in recording conversations 
 he is unrivalled : that he was eminently accurate in substance, 
 we have the evidence of all his contemporaries ; but he is also 
 in a high degree characteristic — dramatic. The incidental obser- 
 vations with which he explains or enlivens the dialogue, are 
 terse, appropriate, and picturesque — we not merely hear his 
 company, zve see them !
 
 liv PREFACE TO MR. CROKER'S EDITION. 
 
 Yet \\\?, father was, we are told, by no means satisfied with the 
 life he led, nor his eldest so)i with the kind of reputation he 
 attained; neither liked to hear of his connection even with Paoli 
 or Johnson ; and both would have been better pleased if he had 
 contented himself with a domestic life of sober respectability. 
 
 The public, however, the dispenser of fame, has judged differ- 
 ently, and considers the biographer of Johnson as the most 
 eminent branch of the family pedigree. With less activity, less 
 indiscretion, less curiosity, less enthusiasm, he might, perhaps, 
 have been what the old lord would, no doubt, have thought 
 more respectable ; and have been pictured on the walls of 
 Auchinleck (the very name of which we never should have 
 heard) by some stiff, provincial painter in a lawyer's wig or a 
 squire's hunting cap ; but his portrait, by Reynolds, would not 
 have been ten times engraved ; his name could never have 
 become — as it is likely to be — as far spread and as lasting as 
 the English language; and "the world had wanted" a work to 
 which it refers as a manual of amusement, a repository of wit, 
 wisdom, and morals, and a lively and faithful history of the 
 manners and literature of England, during a period hardly 
 second in brilliancy, and superior in importance, even to the 
 Augustan age of Anne. 
 
 J. W. C. 
 
 1st May, i8ji.
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE EARLY LIFE OF 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON, 
 
 FROM HIS BIRTH TO HIS ELEVENTH YEAR. 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.^ 
 
 ANNALS. 
 L 1709-10. 
 
 Sept. 7,^ 1709, I was born at Lichfield. My mother had a 
 very difificult and dangerous labour, and was assisted by George 
 Hector, a man mid-wife of great reputation, I was born almost 
 dead, and could not cry for some time. When he had me in his 
 arms, he said, " Here is a brave boy." 
 
 In a few weeks an inflammation was discovered on my buttock, 
 which was at first, I think, taken for a burn ; but soon appeared 
 to be a natural disorder. It swelled, broke, and healed. 
 
 My father being that year sheriff of Lichfield, and to ride the 
 circuit of the county next day, which was a ceremony then 
 performed with great pomp ; he was asked by my mother, 
 "Whom he would invite to the Riding?" and answered, "All 
 the town now." He feasted the citizens with uncommon 
 magnificence, and was the last but one that maintained the 
 splendour of the Riding. 
 
 1 [First published in 1805, with " Original Letters to Dr. Johnson, by Miss 
 Hill Boothby : from the MSS. preserved by the Doctor, and now in possession 
 of Richard Wright, Surgeon, of Lichfield." — " This volume (says Mr. Wright) 
 ivas among that mass of papers which were ordered to be committed to the 
 
 flatnes a few days before Dr. fohftson's death, thirty-two pages of which were 
 torn out by hitnself, and destroyed. Francis Barber, his black servant, un- 
 willing that all the MSS. of his illustrious master should be utterly lost, 
 preserved these relics from the flames. By purchase they came iJtto the 
 possession of the Editor T^ 
 
 2 18, of the present style. — Orig.
 
 Ivi AN A ceo [/NT OF THE 
 
 I was, by my father's persuasion, put to one Marclew, commonly 
 called " Bellison " ^ the servant, or wife of a servant of my father, 
 to be nursed in George Lane, where I used to call when I was a 
 bigger boy, and eat fruit in the garden, which was full of trees. 
 Here it was discovered that my eyes were bad ; and an issue 
 was cut in my left arm,^ of which I took no great notice, as I 
 think my mother has told me, having my little hand in a 
 custard. 
 
 It is observable, that, having been told of this operation, I 
 always imagined that I remembered it, but I laid the scene in 
 the wrong house. Such confusions of memory I suspect to be 
 common. 
 
 My mother visited me every day, and used to go different 
 ways, that her assiduity might not expose her to ridicule ; and 
 often left her fan or glove behind her, that she might have a 
 pretence to come back unexpected ; but she never discovered 
 any token of neglect. Dr. Swinfen told me, that the scrofulous 
 sores which afflicted me proceeded from the bad humours of the 
 nurse, whose son had the same distemper, and was likewise 
 short-sighted, but both in a less degree. My mother thought 
 my diseases derived from her family. 
 
 In ten weeks I was taken home, a poor, diseased infant, 
 almost blind. 
 
 I remember my aunt Nath. Ford told me, when I was about 
 . . . years old, that she would not have picked such a poor 
 creature up in the street. 
 
 In 1767, when I was at Lichfield, I went to look for my nurse's 
 house ; and, inquiring somewhat obscurely, was told "this is the 
 house in which you were nursed." I saw my nurse's son, to 
 whose milk I succeeded, reading a large Bible, which my nurse 
 had bought, as I was then told, some time before her death. 
 
 Dr. Swinfen used to say, that he never knew any child reared 
 with so much difficulty. 
 
 II. 1710-1711. 
 
 In the second year I knew not what happened to me. I 
 believe it was then that my mother carried me to Trysul,^ to 
 consult Dr. Atwood, an oculist of Worcester. My father and 
 
 1 [The name of Marklew, alias Bellison, is yet common in Lichfield, and is 
 usually so distinguished. — R. Wright.] 
 
 - How long this issue was continued I do not remember. I believe it was 
 suffered to dry when I was about six years old. — Ori£. 
 
 3 [Near Wolverhampton.— R. WRIGHT.]
 
 EARLY LIFE OF JOHNSON. Ivii 
 
 Mrs. Harriots, I think, never had much kindness for each other. 
 She was my mother's relation ; and he had none so high to 
 whom he could send any of his family. He saw her seldom 
 himself, and willingly disgusted her, by sending his horses from 
 home on Sunday; which she considered, and with reason, as a 
 breach of duty. My father had much vanity, which his adversity 
 hindered from being fully exerted. I remember, that, mention- 
 ing her legacy in the humility of distress, he called her 02ir good 
 Consul Harriots. My mother had no value for his relations; 
 those indeed whom we knew of were much lower than hers. 
 This contempt began, I know not on which side, very early; 
 but as my father was little at home, it had not much effect. 
 
 My father and mother had not much happiness from each 
 other. They seldom conversed ; for my father could not bear 
 to talk of his affairs ; and my mother, being unacquainted with 
 books, cared not to talk of any thing else. Had my mother been 
 more literate, they had been better companions. She might 
 have sometimes introduced her unwelcome topic with more 
 success, if she could have diversified her conversation. Of busi- 
 ness she had no distinct conception ; and therefore her discourse 
 was com.posed only of complaint, fear, and suspicion. Neither 
 of them ever tried to calculate the profits of trade, or the expenses 
 of living. My mother concluded that we were poor, because we 
 lost by some of our trades ; but the truth was, that my father, 
 having in the early part of his life contracted debts, never had 
 trade sufficient to enable him to pay them, and maintain his 
 family ; he got something, but not enough. 
 
 It was not till about 1768 that I thought to calculate the 
 returns of my father's trade, and by that estimate his probable 
 profits. This, I believe, my parents never did. 
 
 in. 1711-12. 
 
 This year, in Lent — 12. I was taken to London, to be touched 
 for the evil by Queen Anne. My mother was at Nicholson's, 
 the famous bookseller, in Little Britain.^ I always retained 
 some memory of this journey, though I was then but thirty 
 months old. I remembered a little dark room behind the kitchen, 
 where the jack-weight fell through a hole in the floor, into which 
 I once slipped my leg.^ 
 
 1 My mother, then with child, concealed her pregnancy, that she might not 
 be hindered from the journey. — Orig. 
 
 ^ I seem to remember, that I played with a string and a bell, which my 
 cousin Isaac Johnson gave me ; and that there was a cat with a white collar, 
 and a dog called Chops, that leaped over a stick : but I know not whether I 
 remember the thing, or the talk of it. — Orig.
 
 Iviii AN ACCOUNT OF THE 
 
 I remember a boy crying at the palace when I went to be 
 touched. Being asked, " on which side of the shop was the 
 counter ? " I answered, " on the left from the entrance," many 
 years after, and spoke, not by guess, but by memory. We went 
 in the stage-coach, and returned in the waggon, as my mother 
 said, because my cough was violent. The hope of saving a 
 few shillings was no slight motive ; for she, not having been 
 accustomed to money, was afraid of such expenses as now seem 
 very small. She sewed two guineas in her petticoat, lest she 
 should be robbed. 
 
 We were troublesome to the passengers ; but to suffer such 
 inconveniences in the stage-coach was common in these days to 
 persons in much higher rank.^ She bought me a small silver 
 cup and spoon, marked SAM. I., lest, if they had been marked 
 S. I., which was her name, they should, upon her death, have 
 been taken from me. She bought me a speckled linen frock, 
 which I knew afterwards by the name of my London frock. 
 The cup was one of the last pieces of plate which dear Tetty 
 sold in our distress. I have now the spoon. She bought at the 
 same time two tea-spoons, and till my manhood she had no 
 more. 
 
 My father considered tea as very expensive, and discouraged 
 my mother from keeping company with the neighbours, and 
 from paying visits or receiving them. She lived to say, many 
 years after, that if the time were to pass again, she would not 
 comply with such unsocial injunctions, 
 
 I suppose that in this year I was first informed of a future 
 state, I remember, that being in bed with my mother one 
 morning, I was told by her of the two places to which the inha- 
 bitants of this world were received after death : one a fine place 
 filled with happiness, called Heaven ; the other a sad place, 
 called Hell. That this account much affected my imagination, 
 I do not remember. When I was risen, my mother bade me 
 repeat what she had told me to Thomas Jackson, When I told 
 this afterwards to my mother, she seemed to wonder that she 
 should begin such talk so late as that the first time could be 
 remembered. 
 
 \Here there is a chasDi of thirty -eight pages i?t the manuscript P\ 
 examination. We always considered it as a day of ease ; 
 
 for we made no preparation, and indeed were asked commonly 
 
 1 I was sick : one woman fondled me, the other was disgusted. — Orig.
 
 EARLY LIFE OF JOHNSON. li:: 
 
 such questions as we had been asked often before, and could 
 regularly answer. But I believe it was of use at first. 
 
 On Thursday night a small portion of yEsop was learned by 
 heart, and on Friday morning the lessons in /Esop were repeated ; 
 I believe not those in Helvicus. On Friday afternoon we learned 
 Quce Genus; I suppose that other boys might say their repeti- 
 tion, but of this I have now no distinct remembrance. To learn 
 QucB Genus was to me always pleasing ; and As in Prcesenti was, 
 I know not why, always disgusting. 
 
 When we learned our Accidence we had no parts, but, I think, 
 two lessons. The boys that came to school untaught read the 
 Accidence twice through before they learned it by heart. 
 
 When we learned Propria qiics Maribiis, our parts were in the 
 Accidence ; when we learned As in Prcesenti, our parts were in 
 the Accidence and Propria qucs Maribns ; when we learned 
 Syntaxis, in the former three. Propria qua; Maribns I could 
 repeat without any effort of recollection. I used to repeat it to 
 my mother and Tom Johnson ; and remember that I once went 
 as far as the middle of the paragraph, " Mascula dicuntur mono- 
 syllaba," in a dream. 
 
 On Saturday, as on Thursday, we were examined. W^e were 
 sometimes, on one of those days, asked our Catechism,' but with 
 no regularity or constancy. 
 
 The progress of examination was this. When we learned 
 Propria qucs Maribns, we were examined in the Accidence ; 
 particularly we formed Verbs, that is, went through the same 
 person in all the Moods and Tenses. This was very difficult to 
 me ; and I was once very anxious about the next day, when this 
 exercise was to be performed, in which I had failed till I was 
 discouraged. My mother encouraged me, and I proceeded better. 
 When I told her of my good escape, " We often," said she, dear 
 mother ! " come off best when we are most afraid." She told 
 me, that, once when she asked me about forming verbs, I said, 
 " I did not form them in an ugly shape." " You could not," said 
 she, "speak plain; and I was proud that I had a boy who was 
 forming verbs." These little memorials soothe my mind. Of 
 the parts of Corderius or yEsop, which we learned to repeat, I 
 have not the least recollection, except of a passage in one of the 
 Morals, where it is said of some man, that, when he hated another, 
 he made him rich ; this I repeated emphatically in my mother's 
 hearing, who could never conceive that riches could bring any 
 evil. She remarked it, as I expected. 
 
 I had the curiosity, two or three years ago, to look over 
 
 ^ G. Hector [junior], never had been taught his Catechism.— (?;v>.
 
 Ix AN ACCOUNT OF THE 
 
 Garretson's Exercises, Willymot's Particles, and Walker's Exer- 
 cises ; and found very few sentences that I should have recol- 
 lected if I had found them in any other books. That which is 
 read without pleasure is not often recollected nor infixed by 
 conversation, and therefore in a great measure drops from the 
 memory. Thus it happens that those who are taken early from 
 school, commonly lose all that they had learned. 
 
 When we learned As in Pncsenti, we parsed Propria qiiCB 
 Maribus by Hoole's Terminations ; and when we learned Syn- 
 taxiSy we parsed As in Prcssenti ; and afterwards Quce Genus by 
 the same book ; sometimes, as I remember, proceeding in order 
 of the rules, and sometimes, particularly in As in PrcEsenti, 
 taking words as they occurred in the Index. 
 
 The whole week before we broke up, and the part of the 
 week in which we broke up, we spent wholly, I know not why, 
 in examination ; and were therefore easy to both us and the 
 master. The two nights before the vacation were free from 
 exercise. 
 
 This was the course of the school, which I remember with 
 pleasure ; for I was indulged and caressed by my master, and, 1 
 think, really excelled the rest. 
 
 I was with Hawkins but two years, and perhaps four months. 
 The time, till I had computed it, appeared much longer by the 
 multitude of novelties which it supplied, and of incidents, then 
 in my thoughts important, it produced. Perhaps it is not 
 possible that any other period can make the same impression 
 on the memory. 
 
 X. 1719. 
 
 In the Spring of 17 19 our class, consisting of eleven, the 
 number was always fixed in my memory, but one of the names 
 I have forgotten, was removed to the upper school, and put 
 under Holbrook, a peevish and ill-tempered man. We were 
 removed sooner than had been the custom ; for the head-master, 
 intent upon his boarders, left the town-boys long in the lower 
 school. Out removal was caused by a reproof from the Town- 
 clerk ; and Hawkins complained that he had lost half his profit. 
 At this removal I cried. The rest were indifferent. IMy exer- 
 cise in Garretson was somewhere about the Gerunds. Our 
 places in .^sop and Helvicus I have totally forgotten. 
 
 At Whitsuntide Mrs. Longworth brought me s.Hcr)nes Garret- 
 soni, of which I do not remember that I ever could make much 
 use. It was afterwards lost, or stolen at school. My exercise 
 was then in the end of the Syntax. Hermes furnished me with 
 the word inliciiurus, which I did not understand, but used it.
 
 EARLY LIFE OF JOHNSON. Ixi 
 
 This task was very troublesome to me ; I made all the twenty- 
 five exercises, others made but sixteen. I never showed all 
 mine ; five lay long after in a drawer in the shop. I made an 
 exercise in a little time, and showed it my mother; but the 
 task being long upon me, she said, " Though you could make an 
 exercise in so short a time, I thought you would find it difficult 
 to make them all as soon as you should." 
 
 This Whitsuntide, I and my brother were sent to pass some 
 time at Birmingham ; I believe a fortnight. Why such boys 
 were sent to trouble other houses, I cannot tell. ]\Iy mother 
 had some opinion that much improvement was to be had by 
 changing the mode of life. My uncle Harrison was a widower ; 
 and his house was kept by Sally Ford, a young woman of such 
 sweetness of temper, that I used to say she had no fault. We 
 lived most at uncle Ford's, being much caressed by my aunt, a 
 good-natured, coarse woman, easy of converse, but willing to 
 find something to censure in the absent. My uncle Harrison 
 did not much like us, nor did we like him. He was a very 
 mean and vulgar man, drunk every night, but drunk with little 
 drink, very peevish, very proud, very ostentatious, but luckily, 
 not rich. At my aunt Ford's I ate so much of a boiled leg of 
 mutton, that she used to talk of it. My mother who had lived 
 in a narrow sphere, and was then aftected by little things, told 
 me seriously that it would hardly ever be forgotten. Her mind, 
 I think, was afterwards much enlarged, or greater evils wore out 
 the care of less. 
 
 I stayed after tne vacation was over some days ; and remem- 
 ber, when I wrote home, that I desired the horses to come on 
 Thursday of the first school week ; and then, and not till then, 
 they should be welcome to go. I was much pleased with a 
 rattle to my whip, and wrote of it to my mother. 
 
 When my father came to fetch us home, he told the ostler, 
 that he had twelve miles home, and two boys under his care. 
 This offended me. He had then a watch, which he returned 
 when he was to pay for it. 
 
 In making, I think, the first exercise under Holbrook, I per- 
 ceived the power of continuity of attention, of application not 
 suffered to wander or to pause. I was writing at the kitchen 
 windows, as I thought, alone, and turning my head saw Sally 
 dancing. I went on without notice, and had finished almost 
 without perceiving that any time had elapsed. This close 
 attention I have seldom in my whole life obtained. 
 
 In the upper-school I first began to point my exercise, which 
 we made noon's business. Of the method I have not so distinct 
 a remembrance as of the foregoing system. On Thursday
 
 Ixii EARLY LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 morning we had a lesson, as on other mornings. On Thursday 
 afternoon, and on Saturday morning, Ave commonly made 
 examples to the Syntax. 
 
 We were soon raised from .^sop to Phaedrus, and then said 
 our repetition on Friday afternoon to Hunter. I remember the 
 fable of the wolf and lamb, to my draught — that I may drink. 
 At what time we began Phcedrus, I know not. It was the only 
 book which we learned to the end. In the latter part thirty 
 lines were expected for a lesson. What reconciles masters to 
 long lessons is the pleasure of tasking. 
 
 Helvicus was very difficult ; the dialogue Vestitiis Hawkins 
 directed us to omit, as being one of the hardest in the book. 
 As I remember, there was another upon food, and another upon 
 fruits, which we began, and were ordered not to pursue. In the 
 dialogue of Fruits, we perceived that Holbrook did not know 
 the meaning of Uv(2 Crispcs. That lesson gave us great trouble. 
 I observed that we learned Helvicus a long time with very 
 little progress. We learned it in the afternoon on Monday and 
 Wednesday. 
 
 Gladiolus Scriptorius — A little lapse, we quitted it. I got an 
 English Erasmus. 
 
 In Phaedrus we tried to use the interpretation, but never 
 attempted the notes. Nor do I remember that the interpreta- 
 tion helped us. 
 
 In Phsedrus we were sent up twice to the upper master to be 
 punished. The second time we complained that we could not 
 get the passage. Being told that we should ask, we informed 
 him that we had asked, and that the assistant would not tell us.
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D
 
 1
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 
 
 To write the Life of him who excelled all mankind in writing 
 the lives of others, and who, whether we consider his extra- 
 ordinary^ endowments, or his various works, has been equalled 
 by few in any age, is an arduous, and may be reckoned in 
 me a presumptuous task. 
 
 Had Dr. Johnson written his own Life, in conformity with 
 the opinion which he has given,^ that every man's life may 
 be best written by himself; had he employed in the preser- 
 vation of his own history, that clearness of narration and 
 elegance of language in which he has embalmed so many 
 eminent persons, the world would probably have had the 
 most perfect example of biography that was ever exhibited, 
 l^ut although he at different times, in a desultory manner, 
 committed to writing many particulars of the progress of his 
 mind and fortunes, he never had persevering diligence enough 
 to form them into a regular composition. Of these memorials 
 a few have been preserved ; but the greater part was consigned 
 by him to the flames, a few days before his death. 
 
 1 Idler, No. 84. 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [introd. 
 
 As I had the honour and happiness of enjoying his friendship 
 for upwards of twenty years ; as I liad the scheme of writing 
 his Life constantly in view ; as he was well apprised of this 
 circumstance, and from time to time obligingly satisfied my 
 enquiries, by communicating to me the incidents of his early 
 years ; as I acquired a facility in recollecting, and was very 
 assiduous in recording, his conversation, of which the extra- 
 ordinary vigour and vivacity constituted one of the first features 
 of his character ; and as I have spared no pains in obtaining 
 materials concerning him, from every quarter where I could 
 discover that they were to be found, and have been favoured 
 with the most liberal communications by his friends ; I flatter 
 myself that few biographers have entered upon such a work 
 as this, with more advantages ; independent of literary abilities, 
 in which I am not vain enough to compare myself with some 
 great names who have gone before me in this kind of writing. 
 
 Since my work was announced, several Lives and Mem.oirs 
 of Dr. Johnson have been published, the most voluminous of 
 which is one compiled for the booksellers of London, by Sir 
 John Hawkins, Knight,^ a man whom, during my long intimacy 
 with Dr. Johnson, I never saw in his company, I think, but 
 once, and I am sure not above twice. Johnson might have 
 esteemed him for his decent, religious demeanour, and his 
 knowledge of books and literary history ; but from the rigid 
 formality of his manners, it is evident that they never could 
 have lived together with companionable ease and familiarity ; 
 nor had Sir John Hawkins that nice perception which was 
 necessary to mark the finer and less obvious parts of Johnson's 
 
 ^ The greatest part of this book was written while Sir John Hawkins was 
 alive : and I avow, that one object of my strictures was to make him feel 
 some compunction for his illiberal treatment of Dr. Johnson. Since his 
 decease, I have suppressed several of my remarks upon his work. But 
 though I would not " war with the dead" offensively., I think it necessary to 
 be strenuous in defence of my illustrious friend, which I cannot be, without 
 strong animadversions upon a writer who has greatly injured him. Let me 
 add, that though I doubt I should not have been very prompt to gratify Sir 
 John Hawkins with any compliment in his life-time, I do now frankly acknow- 
 ledge that, in my opinion, his volume, however inadequate and improper as a 
 life of Dr. Johnson, and however discredited by unpardonable inaccuracies 
 in other respects, contains a collection of curious anecdotes and observations, 
 which few men but its author could have brought together.
 
 INTROD.] BO SWELL AND SLR JOHN HAWKINS. 3 
 
 character. His being appointed one of his executors, gave 
 him an opportunity of taking possession of such fragments 
 of a diary and other papers as were left ; of which, before 
 dehvering them up to the residuary legatee, whose propert}- 
 they were, he endeavoured to extract the substance. In this 
 he has not been very successful, as I have found upon a 
 perusal of those papers, which have been since transferred to 
 me. Sir John Hawkins's ponderous labours, I must acknow- 
 ledge, exhibit a farrago, of which a considerable portion is 
 not devoid of entertainment to the lovers of literary gossiping ; 
 but besides its being swelled out with long unnecessary extracts 
 from various works, (even one of several leaves from Osborne's 
 Harleian Catalogue, and those not compiled by Johnson, but 
 by Oldys,) a very small part of it relates to the person who 
 is the subject of the book ; and, in that, there is such an 
 inaccuracy in the statement of facts, as in so solemn an authour 
 is hardly excusable, and certainly makes his narrative very 
 unsatisfactory. But what is still worse, there is throughout 
 the whole of it a dark uncharitable cast, by which the most 
 unfavourable construction is put upon almost every circum- 
 stance in the character and conduct of my illustrious friend ; 
 who, I trust, will, by a true and fair delineation, be vindicated 
 both from the injurious misrepresentations of this authour, and 
 from the slighter aspersions of a lady who once lived in great 
 intimacy with him. 
 
 There is, in the British Museum, a letter from Bishop 
 Warburton to Dr. Birch, on the subject of biography; which, 
 though I am aware it may expose me to a charge of artfull}- 
 raising the value of my own work, by contrasting it with that 
 of which I have spoken, is so well conceived and expressed 
 that I cannot refrain from here inserting it : 
 
 " I SHALL endeavour,'' (says Dr. Warburton,) " to give you 
 what satisfaction I can in any thing you want to be satisfied 
 in any subject of Milton, and am extremely glad you intend 
 to write his life. Almost all the life-writers we have had before 
 Toland and Dcsmaiseaux, are indeed strange insipid creatures ; 
 and yet I had rather read the worst of them, than be obliged to 
 go through with this of Milton's, or the other's life of Boileau, 
 
 B 2
 
 4 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [introd. 
 
 where there is such a dull, heavy succession of long quotations 
 of disintercstin<^ passages, that it makes their method quite 
 nauseous. But the verbose, tasteless Frenchman seems to lay 
 it down as a principle, that every life must be a book, and 
 what's worse, it proves a book without a life ; for what do we 
 know of Boileau, after all his tedious stuff? You are the' only 
 one, (and I speak it without a compliment,) that by the vigour 
 of your stile and sentiments, and the real importance of your 
 materials, have the art. (which one would imagine no one could 
 have missed,) of adding agreements to the most agreeable 
 subject in the world, which is literary history.^ 
 
 "Nov. 24, 1 737-" 
 
 Instead of melting down my materials into one mass, and 
 constantly speaking in my own person, by which I might have 
 appeared to have more merit in the execution of the work, I 
 have resolved to adopt and enlarge upon the excellent plan 
 of Mr. Mason, in his Memoirs of Gray. Wherever narrative 
 is necessary to explain, connect, and supply, I furnish it to 
 the best of my abilities ; but in the chronological series of 
 Johnson's life, which I trace as distinctly as I can, year by 
 year, I produce, wherever it is in my power, his own minutes, 
 letters or conversation, being convinced that this mode is more 
 lively, and will make my readers better acquainted with him, 
 than even most of those were who actually knew him, but 
 could know him only partially ; whereas there is here an 
 accumulation of intelligence from various points, by which his 
 character is more fully understood and illustrated. 
 
 Indeed I cannot conceive a more perfect mode of writing 
 any man's life, than not only relating all the most important 
 events of it in their order, but interweaving what he privately 
 wrote, and said, and thought ; by which mankind are enabled 
 as it were to sec him live, and to " live o'er each scene " with 
 him, as he actually advanced through the several stages of his 
 life. Had his other friends been as diligent and ardent as 
 I was, he might have been almost entirely preserved. As it 
 is, I will venture to say that he will be seen in this work more 
 completely than any man who has ever yet lived. 
 
 ^ Brit. Mus. 4320, Ayscough's Catal. Sloane MSS.
 
 INTROD.] BOSWELL ON BIOGRAPHY. 5 
 
 And he will be seen as he really was ; for I profess to write, 
 not his panegyrick, which must be all praise, but his Life ; 
 which, great and good as he was, must not be supposed to be 
 entirely perfect. To be as he was, is indeed subject of pane- 
 gyrick enough to any man in this state of being ; but in every 
 picture there should be shade as well as light, and when I 
 delineate him without reserve, I do what he himself recom- 
 mended, both by his precept and his example. 
 
 " If the biographer v/rites from personal knowledge, and 
 makes haste to gratify the publick curiosity, there is danger 
 lest his interest, his fear, his gratitude, or his tenderness, over- 
 power his fidelity, and tempt him to conceal, if not to invent. 
 There are many who think it an act of piety to hide the faults 
 or failings of their friends, even when they can no longer suffer 
 by their detection ; we therefore see whole ranks of characters 
 adorned with uniform panegyrick, and not to be known from 
 one another but by extrinsick and casual circumstances. ' Let 
 me remember, (says Hale,) when I find myself inclined to pity 
 a criminal, that there is likewise a pity due to the country.' 
 If we owe regard to the memory of the dead, there is yet more 
 respect to be paid to knowledge, to virtue, and to truth." ^ 
 
 What I consider as the peculiar value of the following work, 
 is the quantity it contains of Johnson's conversation ; which is 
 universally acknowledged to have been eminently instructive 
 and entertaining ; and of which the specimens that I have given 
 upon a former occasion,^ have been received with so much 
 approbation, that I have good grounds for supposing that the 
 world will not be indifferent to more ample communications 
 of a similar nature. 
 
 That the conversation of a celebrated man, if his talents 
 have been exerted in conversation, will best display his char- 
 acter, is, I trust, too well established in the judgment of man- 
 kind, to be at all shaken by a sneering observation of Mr. 
 Mason, in his Memoirs of Mr. William WJiitcJicad-'' in which 
 
 ^ Rambler, No. 60. 
 
 - [In the Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, first published in 1785.] 
 ' \_Plays and Poems of Wilham Whitehead, poet laureate, to which are 
 prefixed Memoirs of his Life and Writings by Wilham Mason, M.A.,
 
 6 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [intrcd. 
 
 there is literally no Life, but a mere dry narrative of facts. 
 I do not think it was quite necessary to attempt a depreciation 
 of what is universally esteemed, because it was not to be 
 found in the immediate object of the ingenious WTiter's pen ; 
 for in truth, from a man so still and so tame as to be con- 
 tented to pass many years as the domestick companion of a 
 superannuated lord and lady, conversation could no more be 
 expected, than from a Chinese mandarin on a chimney piece, 
 or the fantastick figures on a gilt leather skreen. 
 
 If authority be required, let us appeal to Plutarch, the prince 
 of ancient biographers. Ovt^ tol'^ eirKparea-Turai^ Trpd^ecrt 
 TTOLVTOds evean b/jXcocns apeTijs f/ kuklus, dXka Tipdyjia ^payy 
 TToAAaKts", KoX pijp-a, kol iraihid rtj ep-cpacnv yjdovi e-ou]a€v 
 IxaXkov Tj p.dxp.i pLVpioveKpoi, Tiapard^eis al ixiyiarai, koI TTuAiopKia 
 TTokciov. " Nor is it always in the most distinguished atchieve- 
 ments that men's virtues or vices may be best discerned ; but 
 very often an action of small note, a short saying, or a jest, 
 shall distinguish a person's real character more than the greatest 
 sieges, or the most important battles." ^ 
 
 To this may be added the sentiments of the very man whose 
 life I am about to exhibit. " The business of the biographer 
 is often to pass slightly over those performances and incidents 
 which produce vulgar greatness, to lead the thoughts into 
 domestic privacies, and display the minute details of daily 
 life, where exteriour appendages are cast aside, and men excel 
 each other only by prudence and by virtue. The account of 
 Thuanus is with great propriety said by its authour to have 
 been written, that it might lay open to posterity the private 
 and familiar character of that man, c^/jhs ingeniiim et candoreni 
 ex ipsiiis scriptis sunt oliui semper miraturi, whose candour and 
 genius will to the end of time be by his writings preserved 
 in admiration. 
 
 London, 1774. William Whitehead was a baker's son who was educated 
 at W'inchester School and Cambridge. He lived with the third Earl of 
 Jersey and his wife, as tutor to their son ; succeeded CoUey Cibber as poet 
 laureate in 1757 ; and died in 1788. There was a contemporary poet, Paul 
 Whitehead, about five years older, and no kin to William.] 
 ^ Plutarch's Life of Alexander. — Langhornc's Translation.
 
 INTROD.] JOHNSON ON BIOGRAPHY. 7 
 
 " There are many invisible circumstances which, whether we 
 read as enquirers after natural or moral knowledge, whether 
 we intend to enlarge our science or increase our virtue, are more 
 important than publick occurrences. Thus Sallust, the great 
 master of nature, has not forgot in his account of Catiline to 
 remark, that his walk was now quick, and again slow, as an 
 indication of a mind revolving with violent commotion. Thus 
 the story of Melanchthon affords a striking lecture on the value 
 of time, by informing us, that when he had made an appoint- 
 ment, he expected not only the hour, but the minute to be 
 fixed, that the day might not run out in the idleness of 
 suspense ; and all the plans and enterprises of De Wit are 
 now of less importance to the world than that part of his * 
 personal character, which represents him as careful of his 
 health, and negligent of his life. 
 
 " But biography has often been allotted to writers, who seem 
 very little acquainted with the nature of their task, or very 
 negligent about the performance. They rarely afford any other 
 account than might be collected from public papers, but imagine 
 themselves writing a life, when they exhibit a chronological 
 series of actions or preferments ; and have so little regard to 
 the manners or behaviour of their heroes, that more knowledge 
 may be gained of a man's real character, by a short conversa- 
 tion with one of his servants, than from a formal and studied 
 narrative, begun with his pedigree, and ended with his 
 funeral. 
 
 " There are, indeed, some natural reasons why these narra- 
 tives are often written by such as were not likely to give much 
 instruction or delight, and why most accounts of particular 
 persons are barren and useless. If a life be delayed till interest 
 and envy are at an end, we may hope for impartiality, but must 
 expect little intelligence ; for the incidents which give excellence 
 to biography are of a volatile and evanescent kind, such as soon 
 escape the memory, and are rarely transmitted by tradition. 
 We know how few can pourtray a living acquaintance, except 
 by his most prominent and observable particularities, and the 
 grosser features of his mind ; and it may be easily imagined 
 how much of this little knowledge may be lost in imparting
 
 8 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [introd. 
 
 it, and how soon a succession of copies will lose all resemblance 
 of the oric^inal."^ 
 
 I am fully aware of the objections which may be made to 
 the minuteness on some occasions of my detail of Johnson's 
 conversation, and how happily it is adapted for the petty 
 exercise of ridicule, by men of superficial understanding, and 
 ludicrous fancy ; but I remain firm and confident in my opinion, 
 that minute particulars are frequently characteristick, and alvva}-s 
 amusing, when they relate to a distinguished man. I am there- 
 fore exceedingly unwilling that any thing, however slight, which 
 my illustrious friend thought it worth his while to express, 
 with any degree of point, should perish. For this almost 
 superstitious reverence, I have found very old and venerable 
 authority, quoted by our great modern prelate, Seeker,^ in 
 whose tenth sermon there is the following passage : 
 
 "Rabbi David KivicJii, a noted Jewish Commentator, who 
 lived about five hundred years ago, explains that passage in 
 the first Psalm, His leaf also shall not zvithcr, from Rabbins 
 yet older than himself, thus : That even the idle talk, so he 
 expresses it, of a good man ought to be regarded ; the most 
 superfluous things he saith are always of some value. And 
 other ancient authours have the same phrase, nearly in the 
 same sense." 
 
 Of one thing I am certain, that considering how highly the 
 small portion which we have of the table-talk and other 
 anecdotes of our celebrated writers is valued, and how earnestly 
 it is regretted that we have not more, I am justified in pre- 
 serving rather too many of Johnson's sayings, than too few ; 
 especially as, from the diversity of dispositions, it cannot be 
 known with certainty beforehand, whether what may seem 
 trifling to some, and perhaps to the collector himself, may not 
 be most agreeable to many ; and the greater number that an 
 authour can please in any degree, the more pleasure does there 
 arise to a benevolent mind. 
 
 1 Rambler, No. 60. 
 
 ■^ [Thomas Seeker was made Bishop of Bristol in 1735, translated to 
 Oxford in 1737, and became Archbishop of Canterbury in 1758. He died 
 in 1768. His sermons were collected into seven volumes, 1769-71.]
 
 Born.] BIRTH AND BAPTIS.V. 9 
 
 To those who are weak enough to think this a desfradiner 
 task, and the time and labour which have been devoted to it 
 misemployed, I shall content myself with opposing the authority 
 of the greatest man of any age, JULIUS C^SAR, of whom 
 Bacon observes, that " in his book of Apophthegms which he 
 collected, we see that he esteemed it more honour to make 
 himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and pithy words 
 of others, than to have every word of his own to be made 
 an apophthegm or an oracle." ^ 
 
 Having said thus much by way of introduction, I commit 
 the following pages to the candour of the Publick. 
 
 Samuel Johnson was born at Lichfield in Staffordshire, on 
 the i8th of September, N.S. 1709; and his initiation into the 
 Christian church was not delayed ; for his baptism is recorded 
 in the register of St. Mary's parish in that city, to have been 
 performed on the day of his birth : his father is there styled 
 Gentleman, a circumstance of which an ignorant panegyrist has 
 praised him for not being proud ; when the truth is, that the 
 appellation of Gentleman, though now lost in the indiscriminate 
 assumption of Esqiiire, was commonly taken by those who 
 could not boast of gentility. His father was Michael Johnson, 
 a native of Derbyshire, of obscure extraction, who settled in 
 Lichfield as a bookseller and stationer. His mother was Sarah 
 Ford, descended of an ancient race of substantial yeomanry in 
 Warwickshire. They were well advanced in years when they 
 married, and never had more than two children, both sons ; 
 Samuel their first-born, who lived to be the illustrious character 
 whose various excellence I am to endeavour to record, and 
 Nathanael, who died in his twenty-fifth year.^ 
 
 ^ 'S>3.coris Adva!!cc7ncnt of Learning, Book i. 
 
 - [Nathanael was bom in 1712, and died in 1737. Their father, Michael 
 Johnson, was born at Cubley, in Derbyshire, in 1656 [in April, 1657], and 
 died at Lichfield in 1731, at the age of seventy-six. Sarah P'ord, his wife, 
 was born at King's-Norton, in the county of Worcester, in 1669, and died at 
 Lichfield in January, 1759, '^ her ninetieth year. — ALA.L0XE.] [Sarah, 
 daughter of William P'ord, had two elder brothers, Joseph and Cornelius,
 
 lo BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1709. 
 
 Mr. Michael Johnson was a man of a large and robust body, 
 and of a strong and active mind ; yet, as in the most solid rocks 
 veins of unsound substance are often discovered, there was in 
 him a mixture of that disease, the nature of which eludes the 
 most minute inquiry, though the effects are well known to be a 
 weariness of life, an unconcern about those things which agitate 
 the greater part of mankind, and a general sensation of gloomy 
 wretchedness. From him then his son inherited, with some 
 other qualities, "a vile melancholy," which in his too strong 
 expression of any disturbance of the mind, " made him mad all 
 his life, at least not sober." ^ Michael was, however, forced by 
 the narrowness of his circumstances to be very diligent in 
 business, not only in his shop, but by occasionally resorting to 
 several towns in the neighbourhood,- some of which were at a 
 considerable distance from Lichfield. At that time booksellers' 
 shops, in the provincial towns of England were very rare : so 
 that there was not one even in Birmingham, in which town old 
 Mr, Johnson used to open a shop every market-day. He was a 
 pretty good Latin scholar, and a citizen so creditable as to be 
 made one of the magistrates of Lichfield ; and being a man of 
 good sense, and skill in his trade, he acquired a reasonable share 
 of wealth, of which, however, he afterwards lost the greatest 
 part, by engaging unsuccessfully in a manufacture of parchment.^ 
 
 and two younger brothers, Samuel and Nathanael, after whom we may- 
 suppose her two sons to have been named. She married Michael Johnson 
 in 1706, he being then forty-nine she thirty-seven years old. Samuel Johnson 
 was, therefore, the first child of a mother aged forty.] 
 
 ^ JoiirJial of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit., p. 213. 
 
 '^ Extract of a letter dated "Trentham, St. Peter's Day, 1716," written by 
 the Rev. George Plaxton, Chaplain at that time to Lord Gower, which may 
 serve to show the high estimation in which the father of our great moralist 
 was held : "Johnson, the Lichfield librarian, is now here; he propagates 
 learning all over this diocese, and advanceth knowledge to its just height; 
 ail the clergy here are his pupils, and suck all they have from him. Allen 
 cannot make a warrant without his precedent, nor our cjuondam John Evans 
 draw a recognizance sine directione Michaclis.''' — Gciiileman's Alagazine, 
 October, 1791. 
 
 2 [Johnson, in his Dictionary, defines " EXCISE, a hateful tax, levied upon 
 commodities, and adjudged not by the common judges of property, but by 
 wretches hired by those to whom excise is paid ;" and in the Idler {No. 65) 
 he calls a Commissioner of Excise " one of the lowest of all human beings." 
 This violence of language seems so unreasonable, that I was induced to 
 suspect some cause of personal animosity ; this mention of the trade in
 
 Born.] FATHER AND MOTHER. n 
 
 He was a i^ealous high-churchman and royahst, and retained 
 his attachment to the unfortunate house of Stuart, though he 
 reconciled himself, by casuistical arguments of expediency and 
 necessity, to take the oaths imposed by the prevailing power. 
 
 There is a circumstance in his life somewhat romantic, but so 
 well authenticated, that I shall not omit it. A young woman of 
 Leek, in Staffordshire, while he served his apprenticeship there, 
 conceived a violent passion for him ; and though it met with no 
 favourable return, followed him to Lichfield, where she took 
 lodgings opposite to the house in which he lived, and indulged 
 her hopeless flame. When he was informed that it so preyed 
 upon her mind that her life was in danger, he with a generous 
 humanity went to her and offered to marry her, but it was then 
 too late : her vital power was exhausted ; and she actually 
 exhibited one of the very rare instances of dying for love. 
 She was buried in the cathedral of Lichfield : and he, with 
 a tender regard, placed a stone over her grave with this 
 inscription : 
 
 Here lies the body of 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Blaney, a Stranger: 
 
 She departed this Life 
 
 20th of September, 1694. 
 
 Johnson's mother was a woman of distinguished understanding,^ 
 
 parchment (an exciseable article) afforded a clue, which has led to the confir- 
 mation cf that suspicion. In the records of the Excise Board is to be found 
 the following letter addressed to the Supervisor of Excise at Lichfield : — 
 "July 27, 1725. The Commissioners received yours of the 22nd inst., and, 
 since the justices would not give judgment against Mr. Michael Johnson, the 
 tanner, notwithstanding the facts were fairly against him, the Board direct 
 that the next time he offends, you do not lay an information against him, but 
 send an affidavit of the fact, that he may be prosecuted in the Exchequer." 
 . . . . M. Johnson was, this very year, chief magistrate of the city. — 
 Croker.] 
 
 1 [It was not, however, much cultivated, as we may collect from Dr. 
 Johnson's own account of his early years, published by R. Phillips, Svo, 1805, 
 a work undoubtedly authentic, and which, though short, is curious, and well 
 worthy of perusal. " My father and mother," says Johnson, " had not much 
 happiness from each other. They seldom conversed ; for my father could 
 not bear to talk of his affairs ; and my mother, being t{7iacquaintcd icith 
 books, cared not to talk of anything else. Had my mother been more literate, 
 they had been better companions. She might have sometimes introduced 
 her unwelcome topic with more success, if she could have diversified her
 
 12 BOSWKLL-S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1709-12. 
 
 I asked his old schoolfellow, Mr. Hector.^ surgeon, of Birming- 
 ham, if she was not vain of her son. He said, "she had too 
 much good sense to be vain, but she knew her son's value." 
 Her piety was not inferior to her understanding ; and to her 
 must be ascribed those early impressions of religion upon the 
 mind of her son, from which the world afterwards derived so 
 much benefit. He told me, that he remembered distinctly 
 having had the first notice of Heaven, " a place to which good 
 people went," and Hell, "a place to which bad people went," 
 communicated to him by her, when a little child in bed with 
 her; and that it might be the better fixed in his memory, .she 
 sent him to repeat it to Thomas Jackson, their man-servant ; he 
 not being in the way, this was not done ; but there was no 
 occasion for any artificial aid for its preservation. 
 
 In following so very eminent a man from his cradle to his 
 grave, every minute particular, which can throw light on the 
 progress of his mind, is interesting. That he was remarkable, 
 even in his earliest years, may easily be supposed ; for to use 
 his own words in his Life of Sydenham, " That the strength of 
 his understanding, the accuracy of his discernment, and the 
 ardour of his curiosity, might have been remarked from his 
 infancy, by a diligent observer, there is no reason to doubt ; for 
 there is no instance of any man, whose history has been 
 minutely related, that did not in ever}^ part of life discover the 
 same proportion of intellectual vigour." 
 
 In all such investigations it is certainly unwise to pay too 
 much attention to incidents which the credulous relate with 
 eager satisfaction, and the more scrupulous or witty inquirer 
 
 conversation. Of business she hud no distinct conception ; and therefore 
 her discourse was composed only of complaint, fear, and suspicion. Neither 
 of them ever tried to calculate the profits of trade or the expenses of living. 
 My mother concluded that we were poor, because we lost by some of our 
 trades ; but the truth was, that my father having in the early part of his life 
 contracted debts, never had trade sufficient to enable him to pay them, and 
 to maintain his family ; he got something, but not enough. It was not till 
 about 1768, that I thought to calculate the returns of my father's trade, and, 
 by that estimate, his probable profits. This I believe my parents never 
 did."— MALONE.J 
 
 ^ [He died Sept. 2, 1794, cet. 85. He was, therefore, about the same age as 
 Johnson. — Croker.J
 
 Age 1-3.] TRAITS OF CHILDHOOD. 13 
 
 considers only as topics of ridicule : yet there is a traditional 
 story of the infant Hercules of toryism, so curiously character- 
 istic, that I shall not withhold it. It was communicated to me 
 in a letter from Miss Mary Adyc, of Lichfield. 
 
 " When Dr. Sacheverel was at Lichfield, Johnson was not 
 quite three years old. My grandfather Hammond observed 
 him at the cathedral perched upon his father's shoulders, 
 listening and gaping at the much-celebrated preacher. Mr. 
 Hammond asked Mr. Johnson how he could possibly think of 
 bringing such an infant to church, and in the midst of so great a 
 crowd. He answered, because it was impossible to keep him at 
 home ; for, young as he was, he believed he had caught the 
 public spirit and zeal for Sacheverel, and would have stayed for 
 ever in the church, satisfied with beholding him." 
 
 Nor can I omit a little instance of that jealous independence 
 of spirit, and impetuosity of temper, which never forsook him. 
 The fact was acknowledged to me by himself, upon the 
 authority of his mother. One day when the servant who used 
 to be sent to school to conduct him home, had not come in 
 time, he set out by himself, though he was then so near-sighted, 
 that he was obliged to stoop down on his hands and knees to 
 take a view of the kennel before he ventured to step over it. 
 His schoolmistress, afraid that he might miss his way, or fall 
 into the kennel, or be run over by a cart, followed him at some 
 distance. He happened to turn about and perceive her. Feel- 
 ing her careful attention as an insult to his manliness, he ran 
 back to her in a rage, and beat her, as well as his strength 
 would permit. 
 
 Of the power of his memory, for which he was all his life 
 eminent to a degree almost incredible, the following early in- 
 stance was told me in his presence at Lichfield, in 1776, by his 
 step-daughter, Mrs. Lucy Porter, as related to her by his mother. 
 When he was a child in petticoats, and had learned to read, 
 Mrs. Johnson one morning put the Common Prayer Book into 
 his hands, pointed to the collect for the day, and said, " Sam, 
 you must get this by heart." She went up stairs, leaving him 
 to study it ; but by the time she had reached the second floor, 
 she heard him following her. " What's the matter .^ " said she.
 
 14 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1709-12. 
 
 " I can say it," he replied ; and repeated it distinctly, though he 
 could not have read it more than twice. 
 
 But there has been another story of his infant precocity 
 generally circulated, and generally believed, the truth of which 
 I am to refute upon his own authority. It is told,^ that, when a 
 child of three years old, he chanced to tread upon a duckling, 
 the eleventh of a brood, and killed it ; upon which, it is said, he 
 dictated to his mother the following epitaph : — 
 
 " Here lies good m.aster duck 
 
 Whom Samuel Johnson trod on ; 
 If it had lived, it had been good luck, 
 For then we'd had an odd otie.'" 
 
 There is surely internal evidence, that this little composition 
 combines in it what no child of three years old could produce, 
 without an extension of its faculties by immediate inspiration ; 
 yet Mrs. Lucy Porter, Dr. Johnson's step-daughter, positively 
 maintained to me, in his presence, that there could be no doubt 
 of the truth of this anecdote, for she had heard it from his 
 mother. So difficult is it to obtain an authentic relation of facts, 
 and such authority may there be for errour ; for he assured me 
 that his father made the verses, and wished to pass them for his 
 child's. He added, " My father was a foolish old man ; that is 
 to say, foolish in talking of his children."- 
 
 ^ Piozzi's Anecdotes and Sir John Hawkins's Life. 
 
 - This anecdote of the ducic, though disproved by internal and external 
 evidence, has nevertheless, upon supposition of its truth, been made the 
 foundation of the foUowmg ingenious and fanciful reflections of Miss Seward, 
 amongst the communications concerning Dr. Johnson with which she has 
 been pleased to favour me : — 
 
 "These infant numbers contain the seeds of those propensities which 
 through his life so strongly marked his character ; of that poetic talent which 
 afterwards bore such rich and plentiful fruits ; for, excepting his orthographick 
 works, everything which Dr. Johnson wrote was poetry, whose essence 
 consists, not in numbers, or in jingle, but in the strength and glow of a fancy 
 to which all the stores of nature and of art stand in prompt administration ; 
 and in an eloquence which conveys their blended illustrations in a language 
 'more tuneable than needs or rhyme or verse to add more harmony.' 
 
 " The above little verses also show that superstitious bias which ' grew with 
 his growth and strengthened with his strength,' and of late years particularly 
 injured his happiness by presenting to him the gloomy side of religion, rather
 
 Age 1-3] HIS EYESIGHT. 15 
 
 Young Johnson had the misfortune to be much afflicted with 
 the scrofula, or King's Evil, which disfigured a countenance 
 naturally well formed, and hurt his visual nerves so much, that 
 he did not see at all with one of his eyes, though its appearance 
 was little different from that of the other. There is among his 
 prayers one inscribed " When my EYE was restored to its ttsc"'^ 
 which ascertains a defect that many of his friends knew he had, 
 though I never perceived it.^ I supposed him to be only near- 
 sighted : and, indeed, I must observe, that in no other respect 
 could I discern any defect in his vision ; on the contrary, the 
 force of his attention and perceptive quickness made him sec 
 and distinguish all manner of objects, whether of nature or of 
 art, with a nicety that is rarely to be found. When he and I 
 were travelling in the Highlands of Scotland, and I pointed out 
 to him a mountain which I observ^ed resembled a cone, he cor- 
 rected my inaccuracy, by showing me, that it was indeed 
 pointed at the top, but that one side of it was larger than the 
 other. And the ladies with whom he was acquainted agree, 
 that no man was more nicely and minutely critical in the 
 elegance of female dress. When I found that he saw the 
 romantick beauties of Islam, in Derbyshire, much better than I 
 did, I told him that he resembled an able performer upon a bad 
 instrument. How false and contemptible, then, are all the 
 remarks which have been made to the prejudice either of his 
 candour or of his philosophy, founded upon a supposition that 
 he was almost blind. It has been said, that he contracted this 
 grievous malady from his nurse.^ His mother yielding to the 
 
 than that bright and cheering one which gilds the period of closing life with 
 the light of pious hope." 
 
 This is so beautifully imagined, that I would not suppress it. But, like 
 many other theories, it is deduced from a supposed fact, which is, indeed, 
 a fiction. 
 
 ^ ]d\\\\son'?, Prayers atid Meditations, p. 27. 
 
 2 [Speaking himself of the imperfection of one of his eyes, he said to Dr. 
 Burney, " the dog was never good for much."— Burnev.] 
 
 ^ [Such was the opinion of Dr. Swinfen. Johnson's eyes were very soon 
 discovered to be bad, and, to relieve them, an issue was cut in his left arm. 
 At the end of ten weeks from his birth, he was taken home from his nurse, 
 "a poor diseased infant, almost blind." See a work, alreadv quoted, entitled 
 An Account of the Life of Dr. Sanutcl Johnson from his Birth to his Eleventh 
 Year ; tvrittcn by Himself. 8vo, 1805. — AIalone.]
 
 i6 BO SWELL'S LIFE OE JOHNSON. [171 1- 19. 
 
 superstitious notion, which it is wonderful to think, prevailed so 
 long in this country, as to the virtue of the regal touch ; a notion 
 which our kings encouraged, and to which a man of such inquiry 
 and such judgment as Carte ^ could give credit; carried him to 
 London, where he was actually touched by Queen Anne.- Mrs. 
 Johnson, indeed, as Mr. Hector informed me, acted by the 
 advice of the celebrated Sir John Floyer, then a physician in 
 Lichfield, Johnson used to talk of this very frankly; and Mrs. 
 Piozzi has preserved his very picturesque description of the 
 scene as it remained upon his fancy. Being asked if he could 
 remember Queen Anne, — " He had," (he said,) "a confused, but 
 somehow a sort of solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, 
 and a long black hood."^ This touch, however, was without 
 any effect, I ventured to say to him, in allusion to the political 
 principles in which he was educated, and of which he ever 
 retained some odour, that " his mother had not carried him far 
 enough ; she should have carried him to ROME." 
 
 He was first taught to read English by Dame Oliver, a 
 widow, who kept a school for young children in Lichfield. He 
 told me she could read the black letter, and asked him to borrow 
 for her, from his father, a Bible in that character. When he was 
 going to Oxford, she came to take leave of him, brought him, in 
 
 1 [Thomas Carte, the son of a divine, had entered the Church, but left it at 
 the age of twenty-eight upon the death of Queen Anne, because he would not 
 take oaths to the hou5e of Hanover. His General History of E7iglandf7-om 
 ilie Earliest Times to A.D. 1654, was published in the years 1747-1755. He 
 died in 1754. Hume, in his History, was a free and frequent borrower from 
 Carte, who was not the less careful about his facts for being stiff in his 
 opinions. The ceremony of touching for the King's Evil was revived by the 
 Tories after the accession of Queen Anne, as one way of reasserting faith in 
 the divine right of kings, by implying that the miraculous power was asso- 
 ciated with her Stuart blood. The superstitious ceremony was set in a 
 religious service, of which forms were printed ; and Michael Johnson, like 
 Thomas Carte, accepted the faith suggested to him by the party leaders 
 whom he trusted. For this reason he caused the healing power of the royal 
 touch to be tried on his son's scrofula. But the experiment did not succeed.] 
 
 - [He was only thirty months old when he was taken to London to be 
 touched for the evil. During this visit, he tells us, his mother purchased for 
 him a small silver cup and spoon. "The cup," he affectingly adds, "was one 
 of the last pieces of plate which dear Tetty sold in our distress. I have now 
 the spoon. She bought at the same time two teaspoons, and till my manhood, 
 she had no more."— Malone.] 
 
 ^ Mrs, Piozzi's Anecdotes, p. 10.
 
 AGE2-IO.] KINGS EVIL. SCHOOL YEARS. l^ 
 
 the simplicity of her kindness, a present of gingerbread, and said 
 he was the best scholar she ever had. He delighted in men- 
 tioning this early compliment : adding, with a smile, that " this 
 was as high a proof of his merit as he could conceive." His 
 next instructor in English was a master, whom, when he spoke 
 of him to me, he familiarly called Tom Brown, who, said he, 
 " published a spelling-book, and dedicated it to the UNIVERSE; 
 but I fear no copy of it can now be had." 
 
 He began to learn Latin with Mr. Hawkins, usher, or under- 
 master, of Lichfield school — " a man," (said he,) " very skilful 
 in his little way." With him he continued two years, and 
 then rose to be under the care of Mr. Hunter, the head 
 master, who, according to his account, "was very severe and 
 wrongheadedly severe. He used," (said he,) "to beat us un- 
 mercifully ; and he did not distinguish between ignorance and 
 negligence ; for he would beat a boy equally for not knowing a 
 thing, as for neglecting to know it. He would ask a boy a 
 question, and if he did not answer it, he would beat him, without 
 considering whether he had an opportunity of knowing how to 
 answer it. For instance, he would call up a boy and ask him 
 Latin for a candlestick, which the boy could not expect to be 
 asked. Now, Sir, if a boy could answer every question, there 
 would be no need of a master to teach him." 
 
 It is, however, but justice to the memory of Mr. Hunter to 
 mention that though he might err in being too severe, the school 
 of Lichfield was very respectable in his time. The late Dr. 
 Taylor, Prebendary of Westminster, who was educated under 
 him, told me, that " he was an excellent master, and that his 
 ushers were most of them men of eminence ; that Holbrook, one 
 of the most ingenious men, best scholars, and best preachers of 
 his age, was usher during the greatest part of the time that 
 Johnson was at school. Then came Hague, of whom as much 
 might be said, with the addition that he was an elegant poet. 
 Hague was succeeded by Green, afterwards Bishop of Lincoln, 
 whose character in the learned world is well known. In the 
 same form with Johnson was Congreve, who afterwards became 
 Chaplain to Archbishop Boulter, and by that connection 
 obtained good preferment in Ireland. He was a younger son of 
 
 VOL. T. C
 
 i8 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1719-24. 
 
 the ancient family of Congreve, in Staffordshire, of which the 
 poet was a branch. His brother sold the estate. There was 
 also Lowe, afterwards Canon of Windsor." 
 
 Indeed, Johnson was very sensible how much he owed to Mr. 
 Hunter. Mr. Langton one day asked him how he had acquired 
 so accurate a knowledge of Latin, in which, I believe, he was 
 exceeded by no man of his time ; he said, " My master whipt me 
 very well. Without that. Sir, I should have done nothing." 
 He told Mr. Langton that while Hunter was flogging his boys 
 unmercifully, he used to say, " And this I do to save you from 
 the gallows." Johnson, upon all occasions, expressed his appro- 
 bation of enforcing instruction by means of the rod.^ " I would 
 rather," (said he,) " have the rod to be the general terrour to all, 
 to make them learn, than tell a child, if you do thus, or 
 thus, you will be more esteemed than your brothers or sisters. 
 The rod produces an effect which terminates in itself A child 
 is afraid of being whipped, and gets his task, and there's an end 
 on't : whereas, by exciting emulation and comparisons of 
 superiority, you lay the foundation of lasting mischief; you 
 make brothers and sisters hate each other." 
 
 When Johnson saw some young ladies in Lincolnshire who 
 were remarkably well behaved, owing to their mother's strict 
 discipline and severe correction, he exclaimed, in one of 
 Shakspeare's lines a little varied,^ 
 
 " Rod, I will honour thee for this thy duty." 
 
 That superiority over his fellows, which he maintained with so 
 much dignity in his march through life, was not assumed from 
 vanity and ostentation, but was the natural and constant effect 
 of those extraordinary powers of mind, of which he could not 
 but be conscious by comparison ; the intellectual difference, 
 which in other cases of comparison of characters, is often a 
 matter of undecided contest, being as clear in his case as the 
 
 ' [Johnson's observations to Dr. Rose, on this subject, may be found in 
 a subsequent part of this work ; near the end of the year 1775.— BURNEY.] 
 
 2 [iMore than a httle. The hne is in King Henry VI., Part ii. Act. iv. 
 Scene Jast : — 
 
 " Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed."— M alone.] 
 
 {
 
 Ageio-15.] at LICHFIELD school. 19 
 
 superiority of stature in some men above others. Johnson did 
 not strut or stand on tiptoe ; he only did not stoop. From his 
 earhest years, his superiority was perceived and acknowledged. 
 He was from the beginning ava^ avhpS>v, a king of men. His 
 schoolfellow, Mr. Hector, has obligingly furnished me with 
 many particulars of his boyish days ; and assured me that he 
 never knew him corrected at school, but for talking and 
 diverting other boys from their business. He seemed to learn 
 by intuition ; for though indolence and procrastination were 
 inherent in his constitution, whenever he made an exertion he 
 did more than any one else. In short, he is a memorable 
 instance of what has been often observed, that the boy is the 
 man in miniature ; and that the distinguishing characteristicks of 
 each individual are the same through the whole course of life. 
 His favourites used to receive very liberal assistance from him ; 
 and such was the submission and deference with which he was 
 treated, such the desire to obtain his regard, that three of the 
 boys, of whom Mr. Hector was sometimes one, used to come in 
 the morning as his humble attendants, and carry him to school. 
 One in the middle stooped while he sat upon his back, and one 
 on each side supported him, and thus he was borne triumphant. 
 Such a proof of the early predominance of intellectual vigour is 
 very remarkable, and does honour to human nature. Talking to 
 me once himself of his being much distinguished at school, he 
 told me, " They never thought to raise me by comparing me to 
 any one ;. they never said Johnson is as good a scholar as such a 
 one, but such a one is as good a scholar as Johnson ; and this 
 was said but of one, but of Lowe : and I do not think he was as 
 good a scholar." 
 
 He discovered a great ambition to excel, which roused him to 
 counteract his indolence. He was uncommonly inquisitive ; and 
 his memory was so tenacious, that he never forgot anything 
 that he either heard or read. Mr. Hector remembers having 
 recited to him eighteen verses, which, after a little pause, he 
 repeated verbatim, varying only one epithet, by which he 
 improved the line. 
 
 He never joined with the other boys in their ordinary 
 diversions : his only amusement was in winter, when he took a 
 
 C 2
 
 20 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1719-25. 
 
 pleasure in being drawn upon the ice by a boy barefooted, who 
 pulled him along by a garter fixed round him ; no very easy 
 operation, as his size was remarkably large. His defective 
 sight, indeed, prevented him from enjoying the common sports ; 
 and he once pleasantly remarked to me, "how wonderfully well 
 he had contrived to be idle without them." Lord Chesterfield, 
 however, has justly observed in one of his letters, when earnestly 
 cautioning a friend against the pernicious effects of idleness, that 
 active sports are not to be reckoned idleness in young people ; 
 and that the listless torpo^of doing nothing, alone deserves that 
 name. Of this dismal inertness of disposition, Johnson had all 
 his life too great a share. Mr, Hector relates, that " he could 
 not oblige him more than by sauntering away the hours of 
 vacation in the fields, during which he was more engaged in 
 talking to himself than to his companion." 
 
 Dr. Percy, the Bishop of Dromore, who was long intimately 
 acquainted with him, and has preserved a few anecdotes con- 
 cerning him, regretting that he was not a more diligent collector, 
 informs me, that " when a boy he was immoderately fond of 
 reading romances of chivalry, and he retained his fondness for 
 them through life ; so that," (adds his lordship,) " spending part 
 of a summer at my parsonage-house in the country, he chose 
 for his regular reading the old Spanish romance Felixmarte 
 of Hircania, in folio, which he read quite through. Yet I have 
 heard him attribute to these extravagant fictions that unsettled 
 turn of mind which prevented his ever fixing in any profession." 
 
 After having resided for some time at the house of his uncle, 
 Cornelius Ford,' Johnson was, at the age of fifteen, removed 
 to the school of Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, of which Mr. 
 Wentworth was then master. This step was taken by the 
 advice of his cousin, the Rev. Mr, Ford, a man in whom both 
 talents and good dispositions were disgraced by licentiousness,- 
 
 ^ [Cornelius Ford was the second of his mother's elder brothers. Her 
 eldest brother, Joseph, a physician, who had seven children, named his first 
 rhild, a son, after his brother Cornelius. That younger Cornelius Ford, 
 Johnson's first cousin, became a dissipated clergyman.] 
 
 '^ [This is that younger Cornelius.] He is said to be the original of the 
 parson in Hogarth's Modern Midnight Conversation. [Sir John Hawkins 
 communicated to Mr. Nichols that the original of the parson was orator 
 Henley. Nichols' Works of Hogarth, 4to, vol. ii. p. no. — Chalmers.]
 
 Ageio-16.] at STOURBRIDGE. 21 
 
 but who was a very able judge of what was right. At this 
 school he did not receive so much benefit as was expected. 
 It has been said, that he acted in the capacity of an assistant 
 to Mr. Wentworth in teaching the younger boys. " Mr. Went- 
 worth," (he told me,) " was a very able man, but an idle man, and 
 to me very severe ; but I cannot blame him much. I was then 
 a big boy ; he saw I did not reverence him, and that he should 
 get no honour by me. I had brought enough with me to carry 
 me through; and all I should get at his school would be ascribed 
 to my own labour, or to my former master. Yet he taught me 
 a great deal." 
 
 He thus discriminated to Dr. Percy, Bishop of Dromore, his 
 progress at his two grammar schools. "At one, I learned much 
 in the school, but little from the master ; in the other, I learned 
 much from the master, but little in the school." 
 
 The bishop also informs me, that " Dr. Johnson's father, before 
 he was received at Stourbridge, applied to have him admitted 
 as a scholar and assistant to the Rev. Samuel Lea, M.A., head- 
 master of Newport School in Shropshire (a very diligent good 
 teacher, at that time in high reputation, under whom Mr. Hollis- 
 is said, in the Memoirs of his Life, to have been also educated.)^ 
 This application to Mr. Lea was not successful ; but Johnson 
 had afterwards the gratification to hear that the old gentleman, 
 who lived to a very advanced age, mentioned it as one of the 
 most memorable events of his life, that he was very near having 
 that great man for his scholar." 
 
 He remained at Stourbridge little more than a year,- and 
 then he returned home, where he may be said to hav^e loitered, 
 for two years, in a state very unworthy his uncommon abilities. 
 He had already given several proofs of his poetical genius, both 
 in his school exercises and in other occasional compositions. 
 Of these I have obtained a considerable collection, by the 
 favour of Mr. Wentworth, son of one of his masters, and of 
 
 ^ As was likewise the Bishop of Dromore many years afterwards. 
 
 2 [Yet here his genius was so distinguished, that although little better than 
 a schoolboy, he was admitted into the best company of the place, and had no 
 common attention paid to him ; of which remarkable instances were long 
 remembered there. — Percy.]
 
 22 nOS WELL'S LIFE Of JOHNSON. [1724-26. 
 
 Mr. Hector/ his schoolfellow and friend ; from which I select 
 the following specimens : — 
 
 Translation of Xl'^GW.. Pastoral I. 
 
 MELIBCEUS. 
 
 Now, Tityrus, you, supine and careless laid, 
 Play on your pipe beneath this beechen shade ; 
 While wretched we about the world must roam, 
 And leave our pleasing fields and native home, 
 Here at your ease you sin<; your amorous flame, 
 And the wood rings with Amarillis' name. 
 
 TITYRUS. 
 
 Those blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd, 
 For I shall never think him less than God : 
 Oft on his altar shall my firsilings lie, 
 Their blood the consecrated stones shall dye : 
 He gave my flocks to graze the flowery meads, 
 And me to tune at ease th' unequal reeds. 
 
 MELIBCEUS. 
 
 My admiration only I exprest 
 (No spark of envy harbours in my breast), 
 That, Avhen confusion o'er the country reigns. 
 To you alone this happy state remains. 
 Here I, though faint myself, must drive my goats, 
 Far from their ancient fields and humble cots. 
 This scarce 1 lead, who left on yonder rock 
 Two tender kids, the hopes of all the flock. 
 Had we not been perverse and careless grown, 
 This dire event by omens was foreshown ; 
 Our trees were blasted by the thunder stroke, ) 
 And left-hand crows, from an old hollow oak, [ 
 Foretold the coming evil by their dismal croak. ) 
 
 Trajislation ^y HORACE. Book I. Ode xxii. 
 
 The man, my friend, whose conscious heart 
 With virtue's sacred ardour glows, 
 
 Nor taints with death the envenom'd dart. 
 Nor needs the guard of Moorish bows : 
 
 ^ [Mr. Hector, Johnson's schoolfellow and friend, was a native of Lichfield, 
 and became an eminent surgeon in Birmingham, where he died September 2, 
 1794, aged 85. He lived for very many years at a house in the Old-square, 
 where he was visited by Johnson in 1781, and again in 1784.]
 
 Age 15-17.] SCHOOL EXERCISES. 
 
 Though Scythia's icy cliffs he treads, 
 Or horrid Afric's faithless sands ; 
 
 Cr where the famed Hydaspes spreads 
 His liquid wealth o'er barbarous land3. 
 
 For while by Chloe's image charm'd, 
 Too far in Sabine woods I stray'd ; 
 
 Me singing, careless and unarm'd, 
 A grizzly wolf surprised, and fled. 
 
 No savage more portentous stain'd 
 Apulia's spacious wilds with gore ; 
 
 No fiercer Juba's thirsty land, 
 Dire nurse of raging lions, bore. 
 
 Place me where no soft summer gale 
 Among the quivering branches sighs ; 
 
 Where clouds condens'd for ever veil 
 With horrid gloom the frowning skies : 
 
 Place me beneath the burning line, 
 A clime deny'd to human race : 
 
 I'll sing of Chloe's charms divine, 
 
 Her heav'nly voice, and beauteous face. 
 
 Translation of WOYIXC^. Book H. Ode ix. 
 
 Clouds do not always veil the skies, 
 
 Nor showers immerse the verdant plain ; 
 
 Nor, do the billows always rise. 
 Or storms afflict the ruffled main : 
 
 Nor, Valgius, on th' Armenian shores 
 Do the chain' d waters always freeze ; 
 
 Not always furious Boreas roars, 
 
 Or bends with violent force the trees. 
 
 But you are ever drown'd in tears. 
 For Mystes dead you ever mourn ; 
 
 No setting Sol can ease your care. 
 But finds you sad at his return. 
 
 The wise experienc'd Grecian sage 
 Mourn'd not Antilochus so long ; 
 
 Nor did King Priam's hoary age 
 So much lament his slaughter'd son. 
 
 Leave off, at length, these woman's sighs, 
 Augustus' numerous trophies sing ; 
 
 Repeat that prince's victories, 
 
 To whom all nations tribute bring. 
 
 Niphates rolls an humbler wave. 
 
 At length the undaunted Scythian yields, 
 
 Content to live the Roman's slave. 
 And scarce forsakes his native fields.
 
 24 BOSWELHS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1724-28. 
 
 Translation of part of the Dialogue beitaeen HECTOR and Andromachk ; 
 from the Sixth Book ^/Homer's Iliad. 
 
 She ceas'd ; then god-like Hector answer 'd kind 
 (His various plumage sporting in the wind). 
 That post, and all the rest, shall be my care ; 
 But shall I, then, forsake the unfinished war ? 
 How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name ! 
 And one base action sully all my fame, 
 Acquired by wounds and battles bravely fought ! 
 Oh ! how my soul abhors so mean a thought ! 
 Long since I Icarn'd to slight this fleeting breath, 
 And view with cheerful eyes approaching death. 
 The inexorable sisters have decreed 
 That Priam's house, and Priam's self shall bleed : 
 The day will come, in which proud Troy shall yield. 
 And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field. 
 Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age. 
 Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage. 
 Nor my brave brothers, that have bit the ground. 
 Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly wound, 
 Can in my bosom half that grief create, 
 As the sad thought of your impending fate : 
 When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose, 
 Mimick your tears, and ridicule your woes ; 
 Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat. 
 And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight • 
 Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry, 
 Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy ! 
 Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes, • 
 And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs. 
 Before that day, by some brave hero's hand 
 May I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand ! 
 
 To a Young Lady on her Birthday.^ 
 
 This tributary verse receive, my fair, 
 Warm wich an ardent lover's fondest pray'r. 
 May this returning day for ever find 
 Thy form more lovely, more adorn' d thy mind ; 
 All pains, all cares, may favouring Heav'n remove. 
 All but the sweet solicitudes of love ! 
 May powerful nature join with grateful art, 
 To point each glance, and force it to the heart ! 
 O then, when conquer"d crowds confess thy sway. 
 When ev'n proud wealth and prouder wit obey, 
 
 ^ Mr. Hector informs me, that this was made almost impromptu, in his 
 presence.
 
 Age 15-19.] EARLY VERSE. 25 
 
 My fair, be mindful of the mighty trust : 
 
 Alas ! 'tis hard for beauty to be just. 
 
 Those sovereign charms with strictest care employ ; 
 
 Nor give the generous pain, the worthless joy : 
 
 With his own form acquaint the forward fool, 
 
 Shown in the faithful glass of ridicule ; 
 
 Teach mimick censure her own faults to find, \ 
 
 No more let coquettes to themselves be blind, ^ 
 
 So shall Belinda's charms improve mankind. ) 
 
 The Young Authour.^ 
 
 When first the peasant, long inclin"d to roam, 
 Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home, 
 Pleas'd with the scene the smiling ocean yields, 
 He scorns the verdant meads and flow'ry fields ; 
 Then dances jocund o'er the watery way. 
 While the breeze whispers, and the streamers play : 
 Unbounded prospects in his bosom roll. 
 And future millions lift his rising soul ; 
 In blissful dreams he digs the golden mine. 
 And raptur'd sees the new-found ruby shine. 
 Joys insincere ! thick clouds invade the skies, 
 Loud roar the billows, high the waves arise ; 
 Sick'ning with fear, he longs to view the shore, 
 And vows to trust the faithless deep no more. 
 
 So the young Authour, panting after fame, 
 
 And the long honours of a lasting name, 
 
 Intrusts his happiness to human i-;ind, 
 
 More false, more cruel, than the seas or wind. 
 
 " Toil on, dull crowd," in ecstacies he cries, 
 
 " For w-ealth or title, perishable prize ; 
 
 While I those transitory blessings scorn, 
 
 Secure of praise from ages yet unborn." 
 
 This thought once form'd, all counsel comes too late, 
 
 He flies to press, and hurries on his fate ; 
 
 Swiftly he sees the imagin'd laurels spread, 
 
 And feels the unfading wreath surround his head. 
 
 Warn'd by another's fate, vain youth, be wise ; 
 
 Those dreams were Settle's once, and Cgilby's. 
 
 The pamphlet spreads, incessant hisses rise, 
 
 To some retreat the baffled writer flies ; 
 
 Where no sour criticks snarl, no sneers molest, 
 
 Safe from the tart lampoon, and stinging jest ; 
 
 There begs of Heaven a less distinguish'd lot. 
 
 Glad to be hid, and proud to be forgot. 
 
 ^ This he inserted, with many alterations, in the Cctitlcmati's Magazine, 
 1743- [He, however, did not add his name. — Malone.]
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1725-28. 
 
 Epilogqe, iiUended to have been spnken by a Ladv wJio zi/as to personate 
 
 the Ghost of WY.\iM\01^^y 
 
 Ye blooming train, who give despair or joy, 
 
 Bless with a smile, or with a frown destroy ; 
 
 In whose fair cheeks destructive Cupids wait, 
 
 And with unerrnig shafts distribute fate ; 
 
 Whose snowy breasts, whose animated eyes, 
 
 Each youth admires, though each admirer dies ; 
 
 Whilst you deride their pangs in barb'rous play, 1 
 
 Unpitying see them weep, and hear them pray. 
 
 And unrelenting sport ten thousand lives away. ) 
 
 For you, ye fair, I quit the gloomy plains. 
 
 Where sable night in all her horrour reigns ; 
 
 No fragrant bowers, no delightful glades, 
 
 Receive the unhappy ghosts of scornful maids. 
 
 For kind, for tender nymphs, the myrtle blooms, 
 
 And weaves her bending boughs in pleasing glooms ; 
 
 Perennial roses deck each purple vale, 
 
 And scents ambrosial breathe in every gale : 
 
 Far hence are banish'd vapours, spleen, and tears, 
 
 Tea, scandal, ivory teeth, and languid airs : 
 
 No pug, nor favourite Cupid, there enjoys 
 
 The balmy kiss, for which poor Thyrsis dies ; 
 
 Form'd to delight, they use no foreign arms. 
 
 Nor torturing whalebones pinch them into charms ; 
 
 No conscious blushes there their cheeks inflame. 
 
 For those who feel no guilt can know no shame ; 
 
 Unfaded still their former charms they show. 
 
 Around them pleasures wait, and joys for ever new. 
 
 But cruel virgins meet severer fates ; 
 
 Expell'd and exil'd from the blissful seats, 
 
 To dismal realms, and regions void of peace. 
 
 Where furies ever howl, and serpents hiss. 
 
 O'er the sad plains perpetual tempests sigh, 
 
 And pois'nous vapours, black'ning all the sky. 
 
 With livid hue the fairest face o'ercast, 
 
 And every beauty withers at the blast : 
 
 Where'er they fly their lovers' ghosts pursue, 
 
 Inflicting rJl those ills which once they knew ; 
 
 Vexation, Fury, Jealousy, Despair, 
 
 Vex ev'ry eye, and every bosom tear ; 
 
 Their foul deformities by all descried. 
 
 No maid to flatter, and no paint to hide. 
 
 Then melt, ye fair, while crowds around you sigh. 
 
 Nor let disdain sit lowring in your eye; 
 
 With pity soften every awful grace, 
 
 And beauty smile auspicious in each face ; 
 
 To ease their pains exert your milder power, 
 
 So shall you guiltless reign, and all mankind adore. 
 
 ^ Some young ladies at Lichfield having proposed to act Tlie Distressed 
 Mother, Johnson wrote this, and gave it to Mr. Hector to convey it privately 
 to them.
 
 Age 16-19.] READING AT HOME. 27 
 
 The two years which he spent at home, after his return 
 from Stourbridge, he passed in what he thought idleness, and 
 was scolded by his father for his want of steady applica- 
 tion.^ He had no settled plan of life, nor looked forward at 
 all, but merely lived from day to day. Yet he read a great 
 deal in a desultory manner, without any scheme of study ; as 
 chance threw books in his way, and inclination directed him 
 through them. He used to mention one curious instance of 
 his casual reading when but a boy. Having imagined that his 
 brother had hid some apples behind a large folio upon an upper 
 shelf in his father's shop, he climbed up to search for them. 
 There were no apples ; but the large folio proved to be Petrarch,^ 
 whom he had seen mentioned in some preface, as one of the 
 restorers of learning. His curiosity having been thus excited, 
 he sat down with avidity, and read a great part of the book. 
 What he read during these two years, he told me, was not works 
 of mere amusement, " not voyages and travels, but all literature. 
 Sir, all ancient writers, all manly : though but little Greek, only 
 some of Anacreon and Hesiod ; but in this irregular manner," 
 added he, " I had looked into a great many books, which were 
 not commonly known at the Universities, where they seldom 
 read any books but what are put into their hands by their 
 tutors ; so that when I came to Oxford, Dr. Adams, now master 
 of Pembroke College, told me I was the best qualified for the 
 University that he had ever known come there." 
 
 In estimating the progress of his mind during these two 
 years, as well as in future periods of his life, we must not regard 
 his own hasty confession of idleness ; for we see, when he 
 explains himself, that he was acquiring various stores ; and 
 indeed he himself concluded the account, with saying, " I would 
 not have you think I was doing nothing then." He might, 
 
 ^ [He probably helped his father in his business. Hawkins heard him 
 say that he himself was able to bind a book, and Dr. Harwood showed me 
 a pocket-book with a parchment cover, said to have been bound by him. — 
 Croker.] 
 
 " [Probably the folio edition of Petrarch's Opera 0)iinia qiice extant^ Bos. 
 1554, which contain both his Latin and Italian works : this accident may 
 have led to Johnson's early, though probably slight, acquaintance with Italian. 
 — Croker.]
 
 28 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1728. 
 
 perhaps, have studied more assiduously ; but it may be doubted 
 whether such a mind as his was not more enriched by roamini^ 
 at large in the fields of literature than if it had been confined 
 to any single spot. The analogy between body and mind is 
 very general, and the parallel will hold as to their food, as well 
 as any other particular. The flesh of animals who feed ex- 
 cursively is allowed to have a higher flavour than that of those 
 who are cooped up. May there not be the same difference 
 between men who read as their taste prompts, and men who 
 are confined in cells and colleges to stated tasks ? 
 
 That a man in Mr. Michael Johnson's circumstances should 
 think of sending his son to the expensive University of Oxford, 
 at his own charge, seems very improbable. The subject was too 
 delicate to questiow Johnson upon ; but I have been assured by 
 Dr. Taylor, that the scheme never would have taken place, 
 had not a gentleman of Shropshire, one of his schoolfellows, 
 spontaneously undertaken to support him at Oxford, in the 
 character of his companion ; though, in fact, he never received 
 any assistance whatever from that gentleman.^ 
 
 He, however, went to Oxford, and was entered a commoner 
 of Pembroke College, on the 31st of October, 1728, being then 
 in his nineteenth year. 
 
 The Reverend Dr. Adams, who aftenvards presided over 
 Pembroke College with universal esteem, told me he was 
 
 ^ [Hawkins says that " A neighbouring gentleman, Mr. Andrew Corbett, 
 having a son, who had been educated in the same school with Johnson, 
 whom he was about to send to Pembroke College, in Oxford, a pro osal was 
 made and accepted, that Johnson should attend his son thither in quality of 
 assistant in his studies :" but the indisputable dates of Corbett's college life 
 do not tally wi;h the accounts of either Boswell or Hawkins. Corbett was 
 of the University twenty months before and twelve or thirteen months after 
 Johnson. And, on reference to the college books, it appears that Corbett's 
 residence Mas so irregular, and so little coincident with Johnson's, that there 
 is no reason to suppose that Johnson was employed either as the private 
 tutor of Corbett, as Hawkins states, or his companion, as Boswell suggests. 
 Much more probable is the statement made in the Memoirs before mentioned, 
 that his godfather, Dr. Swinfen, and some other gentlemen of the neighbour- 
 hood, contributed to send him to Oxford. This is corroborated by the facts 
 of his having been sent to Dr. Swinfen' s own college, and of his constant 
 and generous protection of Mrs. Desmoulins, Dr. Swinfcn's daughter, from 
 whom, indeed, the writer of the Memoirs seems to have derived his informa- 
 tion. — Croker.J
 
 Age 18-19.] SENT TO OXFORD. 29 
 
 present, and gave mc some account of what passed on the night 
 of Johnson's arrival at Oxford. On that evening, his father, 
 who had anxiously accompanied him, found means to have him 
 introduced to Mr. Jorden, who was to be his tutor.^ His being 
 put under any tutor, reminds us of what Wood says of Robert 
 Burton, author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, when elected 
 student of Christ Church ; " for form's sake, though he wanted 
 not a tutor, he was put under the tuition of Dr. John Bancroft, 
 afterwards Bishop of Oxon." ^ 
 
 His father seemed very full of the merits of his son, and told 
 the company he was a good scholar and a poet, and wrote Latin 
 verses. His figure and manner appeared strange to them ; but 
 he behaved modestly, and sat silent, till upon something which 
 occurred in the course of conversation, he suddenly struck in 
 and quoted Macrobius ; and thus he gave the first impression 
 of that more extensive reading in which he had indulged 
 himself. 
 
 His tutor, Mr. Jorden, fellow of Pembroke,^ was not, it seems, 
 
 1 [William, Jorden, M.A. June;, 1708.— B. D.April 8, 1728.— CHALMERS.] 
 
 2 Athen. Oxon., edit. 1721, i. 627. 
 
 3 [There are, as Dr. Hall informed me, several errors in Mr. Boswell's 
 account of Johnson's college life. He either did not consult Dr. Adams, 
 or must have misunderstood Dr. Adams's information. There are at Pem- 
 broke two tutors for the %yhole college, so that Mr. Jorden was no more the 
 tutor of Johnson than of any other student, and Johnson was equally the 
 pupil of the other college tutor. But a more serious error is that as to the 
 period of Johnson's actual residence at Oxford, which pervades, and, in some 
 important points, falsifies Boswell's narrative. Boswell assumes that the 
 years 1729, 1730, and 1731 were all spent — with only the usual interruption 
 of the college vacations — at O.xford, and he adapts all his subsequent state- 
 ments, and several anecdotes, to this hypothesis ; but an examination of the 
 college books proves that Johnson, who entered on the 31st October, 1728, 
 remained there, even during the vacations, to the 12th December, 1729, when 
 he personally left the college, and never returned — though his name remained 
 on the books till the 8th October, 1731. This abrupt termination of his 
 residence was no doubt occasioned by the hypochondriacal illness men- 
 tioned, [on page 32], and it is probable that his name remained on the books 
 in the hjpe that his health and his means might enable him to return. His 
 health, we shall see, mended, but the pecuniary sources failed. If Johnson 
 had remained in college in 1730, there were two scholarships to which he 
 would have been eligible, and one of which Dr. Hall did not doubt that he 
 Avould have obtained. But see, in his visit to Oxford, in 1754, his own opinion 
 that it was fortunate for his literary character that he had been forced out of the 
 routine of a college life. — Croker.] [This contradiction of Boswell rests 
 entirely on the fact that Johnson's name disappeared from the buttery books
 
 30 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSOA'. [1728-31. 
 
 a man of such abilities as we should conceive requisite for the 
 instructor of Samuel Johnson, who gave me the following 
 account of him : — " He was a very worthy man, but a heavy 
 man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. Indeed, 
 I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to 
 college, I waited upon him, and then stayed away four. On 
 the sixth, Mr. Jordcn asked me why I had not attended. I 
 answered, I had been sliding in Christ Church meadow : and 
 this I said with as much noncJialajice as I am now^ talking to 
 you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my 
 tutor." BOSWELL: "That, Sir, was great fortitude of mind." 
 Johnson : " No, Sir ; stark insensibility." ^ 
 
 The fifth of November was at that time kept with great 
 solemnity at Pembroke College, and exercises upon the subject 
 of the day were required. Johnson neglected to perform his, 
 which is much to be regretted ; for his vivacity of imagination, 
 and force of language, would probably have produced some- 
 thing sublime upon the Gunpowder-Plot. To apologise for his 
 neglect, he gave in a short copy of verses, entitled Somniuvt, 
 containing a common thought ; " that the Muse had come to him 
 in his sleep, and whispered, that it did not become him to write 
 on such subjects as politicks ; he should confine himself to 
 humbler themes : " but the versification was truly Virgilian. 
 
 after December 1729, though it remained on the books of the college, and 
 small sums (not battels) were occasionally charged against him. But con- 
 tradiction of Boswell as to the duration of Johnson's residence at Oxford 
 involves rejection of several other statements of his, on the sole ground of 
 their incompatibility with the revised date of his leaving. If it was really 
 impossible for Johnson to study at Oxford, and find in his poverty a way of 
 life that escaped the weekly charge for battels, we must accept the correction ; 
 but all other considerations tell against it.] 
 
 1 Oxford, 20th March, 1776. 
 
 - It ought to be remembered, that Dr. Johnson was apt, in his literary as 
 well as moral exercises, to overcharge his defects. Dr. Adams informed me, 
 that he attended his tutor's lectures, and also the lectures in the College 
 Hall, very regularly. [When he related this anecdote to Mrs. Piozzi, he 
 laughed very heartily at his own insolence, and said they endured it from 
 him with a gentleness that, whenever he thought of it, astonished himselt. 
 Hawkins also says, " that he would oftener risk the payment of a small fine 
 than attend his lectures ; nor was he studious to conceal the reason of his 
 absence. Upon occasion of one such impoaition, he said to Jorden, 'Sir, 
 you have sconced me twopence for non-attendance at a lecture not worth a 
 penny.' " — Crqker.]
 
 AGE 19-21.] AT PEMBROKE COLLEGE. 3 1 
 
 He had a love and respect for Jorden, not for his literature/ 
 but for his worth. " Whenever," said he, " a young man becomes 
 Jorden's pupil, he becomes his son." 
 
 Having given such a specimen of his poetical powers, he was 
 asked by Mr. Jorden to translate Pope's Messiah into Latin 
 verse, as a Christmas exercise.^ He performed it with un- 
 common rapidity, and in so masterly a manner, that he obtained 
 great applause from it, which ever after kept him high in the 
 estimation of his college, and, indeed, of all the University. 
 
 It is said, that Mr. Pope expressed himself concerning it in 
 terms of strong approbation. Dr. Taylor told me, that it was 
 first printed for old Mr. Johnson, without the knowledge of his 
 son, who was very angry when he heard of it. A Miscellany 
 of Poems, collected by a person of the name of Husbands, 
 was published at Oxford in 173 1. In that Miscellany Johnson's 
 translation of the Messiah appeared, with this modest motto 
 from Scaliger's Poeticks : " Ex aliejio ingenio poeta, ex siio tanfuvi 
 versificator." ^ 
 
 I am not ignorant that critical objections have been made 
 to this and other specimens of Johnson's Latin poetry. I 
 acknowledge myself not competent to decide on a question 
 of such extreme nicety. But I am satisfied with the just 
 and discriminative eulogy pronounced upon it by my friend 
 Mr. Courtenay * : — 
 
 " And with like ease his vivid lines assume 
 The garb and dignity of ancient Rome. — 
 Let college verse-men trite conceits express, 
 Trick'd out in splendid shreds of Virgil's dress ; 
 From playful Ovid cull the tinsel phrase. 
 And vapid notions hitch in pilfer'd lays ; 
 
 ^ [Johnson used to say of Jorden, that "he scarcely knew a noun from an 
 adverb." — Nichols. Johnson told Mr. Windham that Jorden was so igno- 
 rant as to say that the Ramei (the disciples of Ramus) were so-called from 
 raJincs, a bough. — Croker.] 
 
 - [This must have been the Christmas, 1728, immediately following his 
 entering into college ; for he never spent a second Christmas at Pembroke. — 
 Croker.] But —1 
 
 2 [It was published, with his name affixed, in the Gentleman' s Magazine, 
 1752, p. 184. — Chalmers.] 
 
 ■* \_Poetical Review of the Literary and Moral Character of Dr. Johnson, 
 by John Courtenay, Esq., M.P. — Croker.J
 
 32 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1728-31. 
 
 Then ■with mosaic art the piece combine, 
 
 And boast the glitter of each dulcet line : 
 
 Johnson adventur'd boldly to transfuse 
 
 His vigorous sense into the Latin muse ; 
 
 Aspir'd to shine by unreflectcd light, 
 
 And with a Roman's ardour think and write. 
 
 He felt the tuneful Nine his breast inspire. 
 
 And, like a master, wak'd the soothing lyre : 
 
 Horatian strains a grateful heart proclaim, 
 
 While Sky's wild rocks resound his Thralia's name. — ^ 
 
 Hesperia's plant, in some less skilful hands, 
 
 To bloom a while factitious heat demands : 
 
 Though glowing Maro a faint warmth supplies, 
 
 The sickly blossom in the hot-house dies : 
 
 By Johnson's genial culture, art, and toil. 
 
 Its root strikes deep, and owns the fost'ring soil ; 
 
 Imbibes our sun through all its swelling veins. 
 
 And grows a native of Britannia's plains." 
 
 The " morbid melancholy," which was lurking in his consti- 
 tution, and to which we may ascribe those particularities, and 
 that aversion to regular life, which at a very early period 
 marked his character, gathered such strength in his twentieth 
 year, as to afflict him in a dreadful manner. While he was 
 at Lichfield, in the college vacation of the year 1729, he felt 
 himself ovenvhelmed with an horrible hypochondria, with per- 
 petual irritation, fretfulness, and impatience; and with a dejection, 
 gloom, and despair, which made existence misery. From this 
 dismal malady he never afterwards was perfectly relieved ; and 
 all his labours, and all his enjoyments, were but temporary 
 interruptions of its baleful influence. How wonderful, how 
 unsearchable are the ways of God I Johnson, who was blest 
 with all the powers of genius and understanding, in a degree 
 far above the ordinary state of human nature, was at the same 
 time visited with a disorder so afflictive, that they who know 
 it by dire experience will not envy his exalted endowments. 
 That it was, in some degree, occasioned by a defect in his 
 
 ^ [ReldciiCL i3 to the last line of the Ode to Mrs. Tkrale, containing five 
 stanzas, of which this was the fifth : — 
 
 Sit memor nostri, fideique merces 
 Stet fides constans, mcritoque blandum 
 ThralicE discant 7'esoi:are nomcn 
 
 Littora Skice. 
 
 Scriptum in Skia, 6th Sept., 1773.]
 
 Age 19-21.] HIS HYPOCHONDRIA. 33 
 
 nervous system, that inexplicable part of our frame, appears 
 highly probable. He told Mr. Paradise^ that he was sometimes 
 so languid and inefficient that he could not distinguish the 
 hour upon the town clock. 
 
 Johnson, upon the first violent attack of this disorder, strove 
 to overcome it by forcible exertions. He frequently walked to 
 Birmingham and back again, and tried many other expedients ; 
 but all in vain. His expression concerning it to me was, " I 
 did not then know how to manage it." His distress became 
 so intolerable, that he applied to Dr. Svvinfen, physician in 
 Lichfield, his godfather, and put into his hands a state of his 
 case, written in Latin. Dr. Swinfen was so much struck with 
 the extraordinary acuteness, research, and eloquence of this 
 pape-r, that, in his zeal for his godson, he showed it to several 
 people. His daughter, Mrs. Desmoulins, who was many years 
 humanely supported in Dr. Johnson's house in London, told 
 me, that upon his discovering that Dr. Swinfen had com- 
 municated his case, he was so much offended, that he was 
 never afterwards fully reconciled to him. He indeed had good 
 reason to be offended ; for though Dr. Swinfen's motive was 
 good, he inconsiderately betrayed a matter deeply interesting 
 and of great delicacy, which had been entrusted to him in 
 confidence ; and exposed a complaint of his young friend and 
 patient, which, in the superficial opinion of the generality of 
 mankind, is attended with contempt and disgrace. 
 
 But let not little men triumph upon knowing that Johnson 
 was an Hypochondriack, was subject to what the learned, 
 philosophical, and pious Dr. Cheyne has so well treated under 
 the title of The English JMahxdy. Though he suffered severely 
 from it he was not therefore degraded. The powers of -his 
 great mind might be troubled, and their full exercise suspended 
 
 ^ [John Paradise, Esq., D.C.L. of Oxford, and F.R.S., was of Greek extrac- 
 tion, the son of the Enirlish consul at Salonica, where he was born : he was 
 educated at Padua, but resided the greater part of his life in London ; in the 
 literary circles of which he was generally known and highly esteemed. He 
 became intimate with Johnson in the latter portion of the Doctor's life ; was 
 a member of his Essex Street Club, and attended his funeral. He died 
 December 12, 1795. — Croker.J 
 
 VOL. L D
 
 34 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHXSON. [1728-30, 
 
 at times ; but the mind itself was ever entire. As a proof of 
 this, it is only necessary to consider that, when he was at the 
 very worst, he composed that state of his own case, which 
 showed an uncommon vigour, not only of fancy and taste, but 
 of judgment. I am aware that he himself was too ready to call 
 such a complaint by the name of madness ; in conformity with 
 which notion, he has traced its gradations, with exquisite nicety, 
 in one of the chapters of his Rassdas} But there is surely a 
 clear distinction between a disorder which affects only the 
 imagination and spirits, while the judgment is sound, and a 
 disorder by which the judgment itself is impaired. This dis- 
 tinction was made to me by the late Professor Gaubius, of 
 Leyden,^ physician to the Prince of Orange, in a conversation 
 which I had with him several years ago ; and he expounded it 
 thus: "If," (said he,) "a man tells me that he is grievously 
 disturbed, for that he imagines he sees a ruffian coming against 
 him with a drawn sword, though at the same time he is eonscious 
 it is a delusion, I pronounce him to have a disordered imagina- 
 tion ; but if a man tells me that he sees this, and in consternation 
 calls to me to look at it, I pronounce him to be mad.'' 
 
 It is a common effect of low spirits or melancholy, to make 
 those who are afflicted with it imagine that they are actually 
 suffering those evils which happen to be most strongly presented 
 to their minds. Some have fancied themselves to be deprived 
 of the use of their limbs, some to labour under .acute diseases, 
 others to be in extreme poverty ; when, in truth, there was not 
 the least reality in any of the suppositions.; so that when the 
 vapours were dispelled they were convinced of the delusion. 
 To Johnson, whose supreme enjoyment was the exercise of his 
 reason, the disturbance or obscuration of that faculty was the 
 evil most to be dreaded. Insanity, therefore, was the object of 
 his most dismal apprehension ; and he fancied himself seized 
 by it, or approaching to it, at the very time when he was giving 
 
 ^ [Chapter XLIV. "On the Dangerous Prevalence of Imagination;" in 
 which Johnson, no doubt, relates his own sensations.^ — Croker.] 
 
 ^ [Jerome David Gaubius was born at Heidelberg, in 1705. He died in 
 1780, leaving several works of considerable value. A translation into English 
 of his Institntiones PathologicB Medicinalis appeared in 1779. — Wright.]
 
 Age 19-21.] HIS HYPOCHONDRIA. 35 
 
 proofs of a more than ordinary soundness and vigour of judge- 
 ment. That his own diseased imagination should have so far 
 deceived him, is strange ; but it is stranger still that some of his 
 friends should have given credit to his groundless opinion, when 
 they had such undoubted proofs that it was totally fallacious ; 
 though it is by no means surprising that those who wish to 
 depreciate him, should, since his death, have laid hold of this 
 circumstance, and insisted upon it with very unfair aggravation. 
 Amidst the oppression, and distraction of a disease, which 
 very few have felt in its full extent, but many have experienced 
 in a slighter degree,-^ Johnson, in his writings, and in his con- 
 versation, never failed to display all the varieties of intellectual 
 excellence. In his march through this world to a better, his 
 mind still appeared grand and brilliant, and impressed all around 
 him with the truth of Virgil's noble sentiment — 
 
 " Igneus est oUis vigor et ccelestis origo." 
 
 The history of his mind as to religion is an important article. 
 I have mentioned the early impressions made upon his tender 
 imagination by his mother, who continued her pious cares with 
 assiduity, but, in his opinion, not with judgement. " Sunday," 
 said he, " was a heavy day to me when I was a boy. My mother 
 confined me on that day, and made me read TJie Whole Duty of 
 Man, from a great part of which I could derive no instruction. 
 When, for instance, I had read the chapter on theft, which from 
 my infancy I had been taught was wrong, I was no more con- 
 vinced that theft was wrong than before ; so there was no 
 accession of knowledge. A boy should be introduced to such 
 books, by having his attention directed to the arrangement, to 
 the style, and other excellences of composition ; that the mind 
 
 1 [January 29, 1791, Boswell writes thus to Mr. Malone : — "I have, for 
 some weeks, had the most woeful return of melancholy ; insomuch that I have 
 not only had no relish of anything, but a continual uneasiness ; and all the 
 prospect before me, for the rest of life, has seemed gloomy and hopeless.'' 
 Again, March 8. — " In the night between the last of February and first of 
 this month, I had a sudden relief from the inexplicable disorder, which occa- 
 sionally clouds my mind and makes me miserable." From the originals in 
 the possession of Mr. Upcott. — Wright.] 
 
 D 2
 
 36 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [i7-'8-3a 
 
 being thus engaged by an amusing variety of objects may not 
 grow weary." 
 
 He communicated to me the following particulars upon the 
 subject of his religious progress : — " I fell into an inattention to 
 religion, or an indifference about it, in my ninth year. The 
 church at Lichfield, in which we had a seat, wanted reparation,^ 
 so I was to go and find a seat in other churches ; and having 
 bad eyes, and being awkward about this, I used to go and read 
 in the fields on Sunday. This habit continued till my fourteenth 
 year; and still I find a great reluctance to go to church. I then 
 became a sort of lax talker against; religion, for I did not much 
 iJiiiik against it ; and this lasted till I went to Oxford, where it 
 would not be suffered. When at Oxford, I took up Law's Serious 
 Call to a Boly Life, it'KY>^c\.\ng to find it a dull book (as such 
 books generally are), and perhaps to laugh at it. But I found 
 La\v^ quite an overmatch for me ; - and this was the first occasion 
 of my thinking in earnest of religion, after I became capable of 
 rational inquir\-."^ 
 
 1 [Johnson's parish church, St. Mary's, being in a decayed state, was taken 
 down in 1716, and the present structure was finished and opened in 1721. — 
 CROKER.] 
 
 - [William Law's Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life had a strong 
 influence also upon the We=leys and the young men at Oxford who joined 
 them in the endeavour to live after the pattern of Christ, without fear of the 
 world. " It is very observable," said Law, "that there is not one command 
 in the Gospel for public worship ; and perhaps it is a duty that is least 
 insisted on in Scripture of any other. The frequent attendance at it is 
 never so much as mentioned in all the New Testament ; whereas that religion 
 and devotion which is to govern the ordinary actions of our life, is to be lound 
 in almost every verse of Scripture." William Law was a Northamptonshire 
 man, born at 'King's Chffe, in 1686, and educated at Emmanuel College, 
 Cambridge. Gibbon, the historian, whose aunt, Hester, had William Law 
 for a teacher, said, " Law's precepts are rigid, but they are founded on the 
 Gospel; his satire is sharp, but is drawn from the knowledge of human life ; 
 and many of his portraits arc not unworthy of the pen of La Bruycre." He 
 died in 1 761.] 
 
 3 Mrs. Piozzi has given a strange fantastical account of the original of Dr. 
 Johnion's belief in our most holy religion. ".At the age of ten years his 
 mind was disturbed by scruples of infidelity, which preyed upon his spirits, 
 and made him very uneasy ; the more so, as he revealed his uneasiness to 
 none, being naturally (as he said) of a sullen temper, and reserved disposi- 
 tion. He searched, however, diligently but fruitlessly, for evidences of the 
 truth of revelation ; and, at length, recollecting a book he had once seen, [/ 
 suppose at five years old,] in his father's shop, entitled L>e Veritate Religionis, 
 Sec, he began to think himself liig/dy culpable for neglecting such a means 
 of information, and took himself severely to task for this sin, adding many
 
 Age 19-21.] HIS RELIGION. ^7 
 
 From this time forward religion was tlie predominant object 
 of his thoughts ; though, with the just sentiments of a conscien- 
 tious Christian, he lamented that his practice of its duties fell 
 far short of what it ought to be. 
 
 This instance of a mind such as that of Johnson being first 
 disposed, by an unexpected incident, to think with anxiety of 
 the momentous concerns of eternity, and of " what he should do 
 to be saved," may for ever be produced in opposition to the 
 superficial and sometimes profane contempt that has been 
 thrown upon those occasional impressions, which it is certain 
 many Christians have experienced ; though it must be acknow- 
 ledged that weak minds, from an erroneous supposition that no 
 man is in a state of grace who has not felt a particular conver- 
 sion, have, in some cases, brought a degree of ridicule upon 
 them ; a ridicule of which it is inconsiderate or unfair to make a 
 general application. 
 
 How seriously Johnson was impressed with a sense of religion, 
 even in the vigour of his youth, appears from the following 
 passage in his minutes, kept by way of diary : — " Sept. 7, 1736. 
 I have this day entered upon my 28th year. Mayest thou, 
 O God, enable me, for Jesus Christ's sake, to spend this in such 
 a manner, that I may receive comfort from it at the hour of 
 death, and in the day of judgment ! Amen." 
 
 The particular course of his reading while at Oxford, and 
 
 acts of voluntary, and, to others, unknown penance. The first opportunity 
 which offered, of course, he seized the book with avidity ; but, on examina- 
 tion, not Jinding hinisclf scholar enougli io peruse iis contents, set his heart 
 at rest ; and not thinking to inquire whether there were any English books 
 written on the subject, followed his usual amusements, and considered his 
 co7iscience as lightoied of a crime. He redoubled his diligence to learn the 
 language that contained the information he most wished ; but from the pain 
 which guilt [namely, having omitted to read what he did not !inderstand'\ had 
 given him, he now began to deduce the soul's immortality [a sensation of pain 
 in this world being an jtnqiiestioiiable proof of existence in anothet\ Mhich 
 was the point t'liat belief first stopped at ; and from that moment re- 
 solving to be a Christian, became one of the most zealous and pious ones 
 our nation ever ■^ro<i\\c&Ar^ Anecdotes, p. 17. 
 
 This is one of the numeroLis misrepresentations of this lively lady, which 
 it is worth while to correct ; for if credit should be given to such a childish, 
 irrational, and ridiculous statement of the foundation of Dr. Johnson's faith 
 in Christianity, how little credit would be due to it. Mrs. Piozzi seems to 
 wish that the Morld should think Dr. Johnson also under the influence of 
 that easy logick, Stct pro rationc voluntas.
 
 38 DOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1728-30. 
 
 during the time of vacation which he passed at home, cannot 
 be traced. Enough has been said of his irregular mode of 
 study. He told me that from his earliest years he loved to read 
 poetry, but hardly ever read any poem to an end ; that he read 
 Shakspeare at a period so early, that the speech of the Ghost 
 in Hamlet terrified him when he was alone ; that Horace's Odes 
 were the compositions in which he took most delight, and it was 
 long before he liked his Epistles and Satires. He told me what 
 he read solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the Grecian hsto- 
 rians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little 
 epigram ; that the study of which he was the most fond was 
 Metaphysicks, but he had not read much, even in that wa)'. I 
 always thought that he did himself injustice in his account of 
 what he had read, and that he must have been speaking with 
 reference to the vast portion of study which is possible, and to 
 which a few scholars in the whole history of literature have 
 attained ; for when I once asked him whether a person, whose 
 name I have now forgotten, studied hard, he answered, "No, 
 Sir ; I do not believe he studied hard. I never knew a man 
 who studied hard. I conclude, indeed, from the effects, that 
 some men have studied hard, as Bentley and Clarke." Trying 
 him by that criterion upon which he formed his judgement of 
 others, we may be absolutely certain, both from his writings and 
 his conversation, that his reading was very extensive. Dr. Adam 
 Smith, than whom few were better judges on this subject, once 
 observed to me, that "Johnson knew more books than any man 
 alive." He had a peculiar facility in seizing at once what was 
 valuable in any book, without submitting to the labour of 
 perusing it from beginning to end. He had, from the irrita- 
 bility of his constitution, at all times an impatience and hurry 
 when he either read or wrote. A certain apprehension arising 
 from novelty made him write his first exercise at college twice 
 over ; but he never took that trouble with any other compo- 
 sition ; and we shall see that his most excellent works were 
 struck off at a heat, with rapid exertion.^ 
 
 ^ [He told Dr. Burney that he never wrote any of his works that were 
 printed, twice over. Dr. Burncy's wonder at seeing several pages of 
 his Lives of the Pods, in manuscript, w ith scarce a blot or erasure, drew
 
 Age 19-21.] STUDY AT OXFORD. 39 
 
 Yet he appears, from his early notes or memorandums in my 
 possession, to have at various times attempted, or at least 
 planned, a methodical course of study, according to computa- 
 tion, of which he was all his life fond, as it fixed his attention 
 steadily upon something without, and' prevented his mind from 
 preying upon itself. Thus I find in his handwriting the number 
 of lines in each of two of Euripides's Tragedies, of the Georgicks 
 of Virgil, of the first six books of the yEiieid, of Horace's Art 
 of Poetry, of three of the books of Ovid's MetmnorpJioses, of 
 some parts of Theocritus, and of the Tenth Satire oi Juvenal; 
 and a table showing, at the rate of various numbers a day (I 
 suppose verses to be read), what would be, in each case, the total 
 amount in a week, month, and year. 
 
 No man had a more ardent love of literature, or a higher 
 respect for it, than Johnson. His apartment in Pembroke 
 College was that upon the second floor over the gateway. The 
 enthusiast of learning will ever contemplate it with veneration. 
 One day, while he was sitting in it quite alone, Dr. Panting,^ 
 then master of the college, whom he called "a fine Jacobite 
 fellow," overheard him uttering this soliloquy in his strong 
 emphatic voice : " Well, I have a mind to see what is done in 
 other places of learning. I'll go and visit the universities abroad. 
 I'll go to France and Italy. I'll go to Padua. — And I'll mind 
 my business. For an Athenian blockhead is the worst of all 
 blockheads.'"^ 
 
 Dr. Adams told me that Johnson, while he was at Pembroke 
 College, " was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay 
 and frolicsome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his 
 
 this observation from him. — Malone.] [But he made large corrections 
 in the second edition of the Rambler, and in the third edition of the Lives 
 of the Poets, the corrections were so considerable as to be printed in a 
 separate pamphlet for the use of former purchasers. — Croker.] [Johnson 
 revised conscientiously, and could do so without "writing twice over."] 
 ^ [Dr. Matthew Panting died 12th February, 1739. — Croker.] 
 2 I had this anecdote from Dr. Adams, and Dr. Johnson confirmed it. 
 Bramston, in his Ma>i of Taste, has the same thought ; 
 
 " Sure, of all blockheads, scholars are the worst." 
 
 [Dr. Adams was about two years older than Johnson, having been born in 
 1707. He became a Fellow of Pembroke in 1723, D.D. in 1756, and Master 
 of the College in 1775.— Croker.]
 
 40 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1728-30. 
 
 life." But this is a striking proof of the fallacy of appearances, 
 and how little any of us know of the real internal state even of 
 those whom we see most frequently ; for the truth is, that he 
 was then depressed by poverty, and irritated by disease. When 
 I mentioned to him this account as given me by Dr. Adams, he 
 said, " Ah, Sir, I was mad and violent. It was bitterness which 
 they mistook for frolick. I was miserably poor, and I thought to 
 fight my way by my literature and my wit ; so I disregarded all 
 power and all authority." 
 
 The Bishop of Dromore observes in a letter to me, " The 
 pleasure he took in vexing the tutors and fellows has been often 
 mentioned. But I have heard him say, what ought to be re- 
 corded to the honour of the present venerable master of that 
 college, the Reverend William Adams, D.D., who was then very 
 }-oung, and one of the junior fellows ; that the mild but judicious 
 expostulations of this worthy man, whose virtue awed him, and 
 whose learning he revered, made him really ashamed of himself, 
 ' though I fear,' said he, ' I was too proud to own it.' 
 
 " I have heard from some of his contemporaries that he was 
 generally seen lounging at the college gate, with a circle of 
 young students round him, whom he was entertaining with wit, 
 and keeping from their studies, if not spiriting them up to 
 rebellion against the college discipline, which in his maturer 
 years he so nmch extolled." ^ 
 
 ^ [There are preserved in Pembroke College, soiiie of these themes, or 
 exercises, both m prose and verse : the following, though the two first lines 
 are awkward, has more point and pleasantry than his epigrams usually have. 
 It may be surmised that the college beer was at this time indifferent : — 
 
 " Mea nee Falcrncc 
 Temperant vites, neque Fo?}nicun 
 
 Focula colles." — HoR. I Od 20. 10. 
 
 " Quid mirum Maro quod digne canit arma virumque, 
 Quid quod putidulum nostra Camtuna sonat 'i 
 
 Limosum nobis Promus dat callidus haustum ; 
 Virgilio vires uva Falerna dedit. 
 
 Carmina vis nostri scribant mciiora Poetae ? 
 Ingenium jubeas purior haustus alat ! " 
 
 No wonder Virgil sang in lofty strain 
 
 " Arms and the Man : '" — good wine inspired his vein ! 
 
 If our poor Muses thick and dull appear,
 
 Age 19-21.] LIFE AT OXFORD. 41 
 
 He very early began to attempt keeping notes or memoran- 
 dums, by way of a diary of his life. I find, in a parcel of loose 
 leaves, the following spirited resolution to contend against his 
 natural indolence: "October, 1729. DesidicB valcdixi ; sy rents 
 isthis cajitibiis siwdmn postJiac a/iran obverstiriis. — I bid fare- 
 well to Sloth, being resolved henceforth not to listen to her 
 syren strains." I have also in my possession a i^w leaves of 
 another Libellus, or little book, entitled Annalcs, in which some 
 of the early particulars of his history are registered in Latin. 
 
 I do not find that he formed any close intimacies with his 
 fellow-collegians. But Dr. Adams told me, that he contracted 
 a love and regard for Pembroke College, which he retained to 
 the last. A short time before his death he sent to that college 
 a present of all his works,^ to be deposited in their library ; and 
 he had thoughts of leaving to it his house at Lichfield ; but his 
 friends who were about him very properly dissuaded him from 
 it, and he bequeathed it to some poor relations. He took a 
 pleasure in boasting of the many eminent men who had been 
 educated at Pembroke. In this list are found the names of 
 Mr. Hawkins the Poetry Professor, Mr. Shenstone, Sir William 
 Blackstone, and others ; - not forgetting the celebrated popular 
 
 We blame the crafty butler's muddy beer ; 
 So, would you have poetic genius shine. 
 Give us a generous Helicon of wine. — C. 
 
 Another is in a graver and better style : — 
 
 '■'■ Adjecere bonce pmilo pltcs artis Athcjicr.'" 
 
 HOR. 2. Ep. 2. 43. 
 
 " Ouas Natura dedit dotes, Academia promit ; 
 Dat menti propriis Musa nitere bonis. 
 Materiam statute sic pr^sbet marmora telkis, 
 Saxea Phidiaca spiral imago manu." 
 
 The talents Nature gives, the Schools expand ; 
 
 The Muse the innate spark of genius fires : 
 Thus a rude block of stone, the sculptor's hand 
 
 Shapes into beauty and with life inspires. — C. 
 
 Johnson repeated this idea in the Latin verses on the termination of his 
 Dictionary, entitled rNQGI SEAYTON, but not, as I think, so elegantly as in 
 the epigram. — Croker.] 
 
 1 [Dr. Hall says, " Certainly not all ; and those which we have arc not all 
 marked as presented by him." — Croker.] 
 
 ^ See Nash's History of Worcesta'shire, vol. i. p. 529.
 
 42 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1728-31. 
 
 preacher, J\lr. George Whitefield, of whom, though Dr. Johnson 
 did not think very highly, it must be acknowledged that his 
 eloquence was powerful, his views pious and charitable, his 
 assiduity almost incredible ; and that, since his death, the 
 integrity of his character has been fully vindicated. Being 
 himself a poet, Johnson was peculiarly happy in mentioning 
 how many of the sons of Pembroke were poets ; adding, with 
 a smile of sportive triumph, " Sir, we are a nest of singing 
 birds." ^ 
 
 He was not, however, blind to what he thought the defects 
 of his own college : and I have, from the information of 
 Dr. Taylor, a very strong instance of that rigid honesty which 
 he ever inflexibly preserved. Ta}lor had obtained his father's 
 consent to be entered of Pembroke, that he might be with his 
 schoolfellow Johnson, with whom, though some years older than 
 himself, he was very intimate. This would have been a great 
 comfort to Johnson. But he fairly told Taylor that he could 
 not, in conscience, suffer him to enter where he knew he could 
 not have an able tutor. He then made inquiry all round the 
 University, and having found that Mr. Bateman, of Christ- 
 church, was the tutor of highest reputation, Taylor was entered 
 of that college. Mr. Bateman's lectures were so excellent, that 
 Johnson used to come and get them at second-hand from 
 Taylor, till his poverty being so extreme, that his shoes were 
 worn out, and his feet appeared through them, he saw that this 
 humiliating circumstance was perceived by the Christ-church 
 men, and he came no more. He was too proud to accept of 
 money, and somebody having set a pair of new shoes at his 
 door, he threw them away with indignation.^ How must we 
 feel when we read such an anecdote of Samuel Johnson .'* 
 
 1 [To the list should be added, Francis Beaumont, the dramatic writer ; 
 Sir Thomas Browne, whose lii'e Johnson wrote ; Sir James Dyer, Chief 
 Justice of tlie King's Bench. Lord Chancellor Harcourt, John Pym, Francis 
 Rous, the Speaker of Cromwell's Parliament, and Bishop Bonner. — 
 Wright.] 
 
 ^ [Authoritatively and circumstantially as this story is told, it seems impos- 
 sible to reconcile it with some indisputable facts and dates. Taylor was 
 admitted commoner of Christchurch 27 June, 1730; but Johnson had left 
 Oxford six months before. The only solution that I can imagine for these
 
 Age 19-22.] LEAVES OXFORD WITHOUT A DECREE. 43 
 
 His spirited refusal of an eleemosynary supply of shoes arose 
 no doubt, from a proper pride. But, considering his ascetic 
 disposition at times, as acknowledged by himself in his Medi- 
 tations, and the exaggeration with which some have treated 
 the peculiarities of his character, I should not wonder to hear it 
 ascribed to a principle of superstitious mortification ; as we are 
 told by Tursellinus, in his Life of St. Ignatius Loyola, that this 
 intrepid founder of the order of Jesuits, when he arrived at 
 Goa, after having made a severe pilgrimage through the eastern 
 deserts, persisted in wearing his miserable shattered shoes, and 
 when new ones were offered him, rejected them as an unsuitable 
 indulgence. 
 
 The res angnsta donii prevented him from having the advan- 
 tage of a complete academical education. The friend to whom 
 he had trusted for support had deceived him.^ His debts in 
 college, though not great, were increasing ; and his scanty 
 remittances from Lichfield, which had all along been made with 
 great difficulty, could be supplied no longer, his father having 
 fallen into a state of insolvency. Compelled, therefore, by 
 irresistible necessity, he left the college in autumn, 1731, 
 without a degree, having been a member of it little more than 
 three years. ^ 
 
 discrepancies is the improbable one of Johnson's having accompanied Taylor 
 to Oxford without reappearing at his own college. — Crokkr.] [This is one 
 of the indications th.it Boswell's statement as to the duration of Johnson's 
 study at Oxford may have been too hastily corrected.] 
 
 ^ [This may mean that Dr. Swinfen, his godfather, who was active in 
 causing him to be sent to college, and to whose college he had been sent, 
 had bro'ien confidence in showing to several persons that account of his 
 symptoms in which Johnson revealed his dread of insanity; and Johnson's 
 wounded spirit then shrank from receiving, further help from him. But see 
 also p ige 28.] 
 
 2 [Error : he was but fourteen months at Oxford. Here, then, are two 
 i iiportant years, the twenty-first and twenty-second of his age, to be 
 accounted for; and Mr. Boswell's assertion (a little farther on), ''that he 
 could not have been assistant to Anthony Blackwall, because Blackwall died 
 in 1730, before Johnson had left college,'' falls to the ground. He might 
 have been for two or three months Avith Blackwall, who died in April, 1730. — 
 Croker.] [Considering how carefully Boswell gathered information, and 
 how many, besides Johnson himself, were able to give it, it is pertinent to 
 observe that the two years unaccounted for are produced wholly by rejection 
 of Boswell's statement that Johnson studied for " little more than three years '' 
 at Oxford.]
 
 44 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1731-32. 
 
 Dr. Adams, the worthy and respectable master of Pembroke 
 College, has generally had the reputation of being Johnson's 
 tutor. The fact, however, is, that in 173 1, Mr. Jorden quitted 
 the college, and his pupils were transferred to Dr. Adams ; so 
 that, had Johnson returned. Dr. Adams wou/d have been his tutor. 
 It is to be wished that this connection had taken place. His 
 equal temper, mild disposition, and politeness of manners, 
 might have insensibly softened the harshness of Johnson, and 
 infused into him those more delicate charities, those petitcs 
 i?iorales, in which, it must be confessed, our great moralist was 
 more deficient than his best friends could fully justify. Dr. 
 Adams paid Johnson this high compliment. He said to me at 
 Oxford in 1776, "I was his nominal tutor; but he was above 
 my mark." When I repeated it to Johnson, his eyes flashed 
 with grateful satisfaction, and he exclaimed, " That was liberal 
 and noble." 
 
 And now (I had almost said poor) Samuel Johnson returned 
 to his native city, destitute, and not knowing how he should 
 gain even a decent livelihood. His father's misfortunes in trade 
 rendered him unable to support his son ; ^ and for some time 
 there appeared no means by which he could maintain himself 
 In the December of this year his father dicd.^ 
 
 The state of poverty in which he died, appears from a note in 
 one of Johnson's little diaries of the following year, which 
 strongly displays his spirit and virtuous dignity of mind. 
 " iy^2, Jiilii 15. Undeciin aiircos dvposui, quo die guicquid ante 
 viatris fumis (quod seriivi sit precor) de paternis bonis spcrari 
 licet, viginti scilicet libras acccpi. Usque adco inihi fortuna 
 fijigejida est. Interea, ne paupcrtatc vires animi langucscaiit, 
 
 * [Hawkins says that Johnson found, when he went home from Oxford, 
 that his father had taken into the house his mother's unmarried sisters, who 
 had been left homeless by the death of their brother, in the summer of 1731. 
 This, again, agrees with Boswell's statement of the duration of Johnson's 
 residence in Oxford ; and does not agree with Croker"s alteration of the 
 date.] 
 
 - [" Johnson's father," says Hawkins, " either during his continuance at the 
 university, or po:isibiy before, had been by misfortunes rendered insolvent, 
 if not, as Johnson told me, an actual ban! rupt." Amongst the MSS. of 
 Pembroke College are some letters which state that his widow was left in 
 great poverty. — Croker.]
 
 Age 22-23- J DEATH OF HIS FATHER. ' 45 
 
 71CC in jlagitia egcstas abigat, cavendum. I laved by eleven 
 guineas on this day, when I received twenty pounds, being all 
 that I have reason to hope for out of my father's effects, previous 
 to the death of my mother ; an event which I pray God may 
 be very remote. I now, therefore, see that I must make my 
 own fortune. Meanwhile let me take care that the powers of 
 my mind be not debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do 
 not force me into any criminal act." 
 
 Johnson was so far fortunate, that the respectable character 
 of his parents, and his own merit, had, from his earliest years, 
 secured him a kind reception in the best families at Lichfield, 
 Among these I can mention Mr. Howard,^ Dr. Swinfen, Mr. 
 Simpson, Mr. Levett,- Captain Garrick, father of the great 
 ornament of the British stage; but above all, ]\Ir. Gilbert 
 Walmsley,^ Registrar of the Ecclesiastical Court of Lichfield, 
 whose character, long after his decease, Dr. Johnson has in 
 his life of Edmund Smith, thus drawn in the glowing colours 
 of gratitude : — 
 
 "Of Gilbert Walmsley, thus presented to my mind, let me 
 indulge myself in the remembrance. I knew him very early ; 
 he was one of the first friends that literature procured me, and 
 
 ^ [Mr. Howard was a proctor in the Ecclesiastical Court, and resided in 
 the Close.— Croker.] 
 
 - [Mr. Levett was a gentleman of fortune in this neighbourhood, and must 
 not be confounded with the humble friend of the same name to whom 
 Johnson was so charitable in after life.- — Croker.] 
 
 2 Mr. Warton informs me, " that this early friend of Johnson was entered 
 a Commoner of Trinity College, Oxford, aged 17, in 1698 ; and is the author 
 of many Latin verse translations in the Gcntlcnian's Magazine. One of 
 them is a translation of 
 
 " ]\Iy time, O ye Muses, was happily spent," &c. 
 
 He died August 3rd, 1751, and a monument to his memory has been erected 
 in the cathedral of Lichfield, with an uiscription written by Mr. Seward, one 
 of the Prebendaries. [His translation of ''My time, O ye Muses/' &c., 
 may be found in the Gentlcnuvis Magazine for 1745, vol. xv. p. 102. It is 
 there subscribed with his name. — Malone.] [He was the son of W. 
 Walmesley (so they spelled their name), LL. D., chancellor of the diocese, 
 and in 1701 1\LP. for the city of Lichtield, and was born in 1680; but I think 
 Ur. Warton was mistaken in attributing the translation of the song to him, 
 for though signed '•' G. Walmsley," it is dated Sid. Col. Cambridge. John- 
 son's friend was at that date (1745) 65 years of age. — Croker.]
 
 46 BOSIVELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1731-32. 
 
 I hope, that at least my gratitude made me worthy of his 
 notice. 
 
 " He was of an advanced age, and I was only not a boy, yet 
 he ncv^er received my notions with contempt. He was a Whig, 
 with all the virulence and malevolence of his party ; yet difference 
 of opinion did not keep us apart. I honoured him and he 
 endured me. 
 
 " He had mingled with the gay world without exemption 
 from its vices or its follies ; but had never neglected the cultiva- 
 tion of his mind. His belief of revelation was unshaken ; his 
 learning preserved his principles ; he grew first regular, and then 
 pious. 
 
 " His studies had been so various, that I am not able to name 
 a man of equal knowledge. His acquaintance with books was 
 great, and what he did not immediately know, he could, at 
 least, tell where to find. Such was his amplitude of learning, 
 and such his copiousness of communication, that it may be 
 doubted vvhether a day now passes in which I have not some 
 advantage from his friendship. 
 
 "At this man's table I enjoyed many cheerful and instructive 
 hours, with companions such as are not ofien found — with one 
 who has lengthened, and one who has gladdened life ; with 
 Dr. James, whose skill in physick will be long remembered ; and 
 with David Garrick, whom 1 hoped to have gratified with this 
 character of our common friend. But what are the hopes of 
 man .-* I am disappointed by that stroke of death, which has 
 eclipsed the gaiety of nations and impoverished the public stock 
 of harmless pleasure." 
 
 In these families he passed much time in his early years. In 
 most of them, he was in the company of ladies, particularly at 
 Mr. Walmsley's, whose wife and sisters-in-law, of the name of 
 Aston, and daughters of a baronet, were remarkable for good 
 breeding ; so that the notion which has been industriously 
 circulated and believed, that he never was in good company till 
 late in life, and consequently had been confirmed in coarse and 
 ferocious manners by long habits, is wholly without foundation. 
 Some of the ladies have assured me, they recollected him well 
 when a young man, as distinguished for his complaisance. 
 
 And that his politeness was not merely occasional and 
 temporary, or confined to the circles of Lichfield, is ascertained 
 by the testimony of a lady, who in a paper with which I have 
 been favoured by a daughter of his intimate friend and
 
 Age 22-23.. HIS LICHFIELD FRIENDS. 47 
 
 physician, Dr. Lawrence, thus describes Dr. Johnson some 
 years afterwards : — 
 
 " As the particulars of the former part of Dr. Johnson's Hfc 
 do not seem to be very accurately known, a lady hopes that the 
 following information may not be unacceptable. 
 
 " She remembers Dr. Johnson on a visit to Dr. Taylor, at 
 Ashbourn, some time between the end of the year '-^y, and the 
 middle of the year '40 ; she rather thinks it to have been after 
 he and his wife were removed to London. DurinfT his stay at 
 Ashbourn, he made frequent visits to Mr. Meynell, at Bradley, 
 where his company was much desired by the ladies of the family, 
 who were, perhaps, in point of elegance and accomplishments, 
 inferior to few of those with whom he was afterwards acquainted. 
 Mr. Meynell's eldest daughter was afterwards married to Mr. 
 Fitzherbert, father to Mr. Alleyne Fitzherbert, lately minister 
 to the court of Russia. Of her. Dr. Johnson said, in Dr. 
 Lawrence's study, that she had the best understanding he ever 
 met with in any human being. At Mr. Meynell's he also 
 commenced that friendship with Mrs. Hill Boothby,^ sister to 
 the present Sir Brook Boothby, which continued till her death, 
 ^\\Q. young zvoman ivJiom he used to call Molly Aston^- was sister 
 to Sir Thomas Aston,^ and daughter to a baronet ; she was also 
 sister to the wife of his friend, Mr. Gilbert Walm-sley. Besides 
 his intimacy with the above-mentioned persons, who were surely 
 people of rank and education, while he was at Lichfield he used 
 to be frequently at the house of Dr. Swinfen, a gentleman of 
 very ancient family in Staffordshire, from which after the death 
 of his elder brother, he inherited a good estate. He was, 
 besides, a physician of very extensive practice ; but for want 
 
 ^ [Miss Boothby was born in 1708, and died in 1756. For the last there 
 years of her hfe this lady maintained a pious and somewhat mystical corre- 
 spondence with Dr. Johnson, which was published in 1805, by Mr. Wright 
 of Lichfield, in the same little volume, with the auto-biographical Account of 
 Dr. Johnsoti's Early Life. Miss SewarJ choosed to imagine that there was 
 an earty attachment between Miss Boothby and Johnson ; but all that lady's 
 stories are worse than apocryphal. Thcfrst letter, dated July, 1753, proves 
 that the acquaintance was then recent. — CruKER.] 
 
 2 The words of Sir John Hawkins, p. 316. 
 
 3 [Sir Thomas Aston, Bart., who died in January, 1724-5, left one son, 
 named Thomas also and eight daughters. C-f the daughters, Catherine 
 married Johnson's friend, the Hon. Henry Hervey ; Margaret, Gilbert 
 WalmJey. Another of these ladies married the Rev. Mr. Gastrell. Mary, 
 or Molly Aston, as she was usually called, became the wife of Captain 
 Brodie, of the Navy. Another sister, who was unmarried, was living at 
 Lichfield in 1776. — M ALONE.]
 
 48 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1732-33. 
 
 of due attention to the management of his domestic concerns, 
 left a very large family in indigence. One of his daughters, 
 Mrs. Desmoulins, afterwards found an asylum in the house of 
 her old friend, whose doors were always open to the unfortunate, 
 and who well observed the precept of the Gospel, for he ' was 
 kind to the unthankful and to the evil.' " 
 
 In the forlorn state of his circumstances, he accepted of an 
 offer to be employed as usher in the school of Market-Bosworth, 
 in Leicestershire, to which it appears, from one of his little 
 fragments of a diary, that he went on foot, on the i6th of July. 
 — '' Julii 16. Bosvortiam pedes pctii." But it is not true, as has 
 been erroneously related, that he was assistant to the famous 
 Anthony Blackwall, whose merit has been honoured by the 
 testimony of Bishop Hurd,^ who was his scholar; for Mr. 
 Blackwall died on the 8th of April, 1730,"' more than a year 
 before Johnson left the University. 
 
 This employment w^as very irksome to him in every respect, 
 and he complained grievously of it in his letters to his friend, 
 Mr. Hector, who was now settled as a surgeon at Birmingham. 
 The letters are lost; but Mr. Hector recollects his writing "that 
 the poet had described the dull sameness of his existence in 
 these words, ' Vitaui contiiict una dies' (one day contains the 
 whole of my life) ; that it was unvaried as the note of the 
 cuckoo ; and that he did not know whether it was more dis- 
 agreeable for him to teach, or the boys to learn, the grammar 
 rules." His general aversion to this painful drudgery was 
 greatly enhanced by a disagreement between him and Sir 
 Wolstan Dixie, the patron of the school, in whose house, I have 
 been told, he officiated as a kind of domestic chaplain, so far, 
 at least, as to say grace at table, but was treated with what he 
 
 ' [There is here (as Mr. James Boswell observes to me) a shght inac- 
 curacy. Bishop Hurd, in the Epistle Dedicatory prefixed to his Coiiuiieiitajy 
 on Horace s Art of Poetry, &c., does not praise Blackwall, but the Rev. Mr. 
 Budworth, Head Master of the Grammar School at Brewood, in Staftord- 
 shire, who had himself been bred under Blackwall. From the information 
 of Mr. John Nichols, Johnson is said to have applied in 1736 to Mr. Bud- 
 worth, to be received by him as an assistant in his school in Staffordshire. — 
 
 M ALONE.] 
 
 2 See Gentleman's Magazine, December, 17S4, p. 957.
 
 Age 23-24] AT BIRMINGHAM. 49 
 
 represented as intolerable harshness ; and, after suffering for a 
 {q.\v months such complicated misery,^ he relinquished a situation 
 which all his life afterwards he recollected with the strongest 
 aversion, and even a degree of horrour. But it is probable that 
 at this period, whatever uneasiness he may have endured, he 
 laid the foundation of much future eminence by application to 
 his studies. 
 
 Being now again totally unoccupied, he was invited by 
 Mr. Hector to pass some time with him at Birmingham, as his 
 guest, at the house of Mr. Warren, with whom Mr. Hector 
 lodged and boarded. Mr. Warren was the first established 
 bookseller in Birmingham, and was very attentive to Johnson, 
 who he soon found could be of much service to him in his 
 trade, by his knowledge of literature ; and he even obtained 
 the assistance of his pen in furnishing some numbers of a 
 periodical Essay printed in the newspaper of which Warren 
 was proprietor. After very diligent inquiry, I have not been 
 able to recover those early specimens of that particular mode 
 of writing by which Johnson afterwards so greatly distinguished 
 himself. 
 
 He continued to live as Mr. Hector's guest for about six 
 months, and then hired lodgings in another part of the town,^ 
 finding himself as well situated at Birmingham as he supposed 
 he could be anywhere, while he had no settled plan of life, and 
 very scanty means of subsistence. He made some valuable 
 acquaintances there, amongst whom were Mr. Porter, a mercer, 
 whose widow he afterwards married, and ]\Ir. Taylor, who by 
 his ingenuity in mechanical inventions, and his success in trade, 
 acquired an immense fortune. But the comfort of being near 
 Mr. Hector, his old schoolfellow and intimate friend, was 
 Johnson's chief inducement to continue here. 
 
 ^ [It appears from a letter of Johnson's to a friend, which I have read, 
 dated Lichfield, July 27, 1732, that he had left Sir Wolstan Dixie's house 
 recently before that letter was written. He then had hopes of succeeding, 
 either as master or usher, in the school of Ashburne. — Malone.] 
 
 - [Sir John Hawkins states, from one of Johnson's diaries, that in June, 
 I733> he lodged in Birmingham at the house of a person named Jervis, pro- 
 bably a relation of Mrs. Porter, whom he afterwards married and whose 
 maiden name was Jervis. — r^lALONE.] 
 
 VOL. L . E
 
 50 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOH.\SON. [1733-35. 
 
 In what manner he employed his pen at this period, or 
 whether he derived from it any pecuniary advantage, I have 
 not been able to ascertain. He probably got a little money 
 from Mr. Warren ; and we are certain that lie executed here one 
 piece of literary labour, of which Mr. Hector has favoured me 
 with a minute account. Having mentioned that he had read at 
 Pembroke College a Voyage to Abyssinia, by Lobo, (a Portu- 
 guese Jesuit,) and that he thought an abridgement and translation 
 of it from the French into English might be an useful and 
 profitable publication, Mr. Warren and Mr. Hector joined in 
 urging him to undertake it.^ He accordingly agreed ; and the 
 book not being to be found in Birmingham, he borrowed it of 
 Pembroke College. A part of the work being very soon done, 
 one Osborn, who was Mr. Warren's printer, was set to work with 
 what was ready, and Johnson engaged to supply the press with 
 copy as it should be wanted, but his constitutional indolence 
 soon prevailed, and the work was at a stand. Mr. Hector, who 
 knew that a motive of humanity would be the most prevailing 
 argument with his friend, went to Johnson, and represented to 
 him, that the printer could have no other employment till this 
 undertaking was finished, and that the poor man and his family 
 were suff"ering. Johnson, upon this, exerted the powers of his 
 mind, though his body was relaxed. He lay in bed with the 
 book, which was a quarto, before him, and dictated while Hector 
 wrote. Mr. Hector carried the sheets to the press, and corrected 
 almost all the proof sheets, very few of which were even seen by 
 Johnson. In this manner, with the aid of Mr. Hector's active 
 friendship, the book was completed, and was published in 1735, 
 with London upon the title-page, though it was in reality printed 
 at Birmingham, a device too common with provincial publishers. 
 For this work he had from Mr, Warren only the sum of five 
 guineas. 
 
 This being the first prose work of Johnson, it is a curious 
 
 1 [Father Jerome Lobo, a Jesuit Missionary, was born at Lisbon, in 1593, 
 where be died, in 1678. His Voyage to Abyssinia Mas translated from 
 the Portuguese into French, by the 'Abbe le Grand, in 1728.— Wright.] 
 [The Abbe le Grand, whom Johnson translated, abridged in 1728 the French 
 translation published in 1674 of Lobo's Historia de Ethiopia, first published 
 in 1659.]
 
 Age 24-26.] TRANSLATES FATHER LOBO. 51 
 
 object of inquiry how much may be traced in it of that style 
 which marks his subsequent writings with such pecuh'ar excel- 
 lence ; with so happy an union of force, vivacity, and perspicuity. 
 I have perused the book with this view, and have found that 
 here, as I believe in every other translation, there is in the work 
 itself no vestige of the translator's own style ; for the language 
 of translation being adapted to the thoughts of another person, 
 insensibly follows their cast, and as it were runs into a mould 
 that is ready prepared. 
 
 Thus, for instance, taking the first sentence that occurs at the 
 opening of the book, p. 4 : — 
 
 "I lived here above a year, and completed my studies in 
 divinity ; in which time some letters were received from the 
 fathers of Ethiopia, with an account that Sultan Segned, Em- 
 perour of Abyssinia, was converted to the church of Rome ; that 
 many of his subjects had followed his example, and that there 
 was a great want of missionaries to improve these prosperous 
 beginnings. Everybody was very desirous of seconding the zeal 
 of our fathers, and of sending them the assistance they requested ; 
 to which we were the m.ore encouraged, because the Emperour's 
 letter informed our Provincial that we might easily enter his 
 dominions by the way of Dancala; but, unhappily, the secretary 
 wrote Geila for Dancala, which cost two of our fathers their 
 lives." 
 
 Every one acquainted with Johnson's manner will be sensible 
 that there is nothing of it here ; but that this sentence might 
 have been composed by any other man. 
 
 But, in the Preface, the Johnsonian style begins to appear ; 
 and though use had not yet taught his wing a permanent and 
 equable flight, there are parts of it which exhibit his best manner 
 in full vigour. I had once the pleasure of examining it with 
 Mr. Edmund Burke, who confirmed me in this opinion, by his 
 superior critical sagacity, and was, I remember, much delighted 
 with the following specimen : — 
 
 " The Portuguese traveller, contrary to the general vein of his 
 countrymen, has amused his reader with no romantick absurdity, 
 or incredible fictions ; whatever he relates, whether true or not, 
 is at least probable ; and he who tells nothing exceeding the 
 
 E 2
 
 52 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1733-35. 
 
 bounds of probability, has a right to demand that they should 
 believe him who cannot contradict him. 
 
 " He appears by his modest and unaffected narration to have 
 described things as he saw them, to have copied nature from the 
 life, and to have consulted his senses, not his imagination. He 
 meets with no basilisks that destroy with their eyes, his croco- 
 diles devour their prey without tears, and his cataracts fall from 
 the rocks without deafening the neighbouring inhabitants. 
 
 " The reader will here find no regions cursed with irremediable 
 barrenness, or blest with spontaneous fecundity ; no perpetual 
 gloom, or unceasing sunshine ; nor are the nations here described, 
 either devoid of all sense of humanity, or consummate in all 
 private or social virtues. Here are no Hottentots without reli- 
 gious policy or articulate language ; no Chinese perfectly polite, 
 and completely skilled in all sciences ; he will discover, what 
 will always be discovered by a diligent and impartial inquirer, 
 that wherever human nature is to be found, there is a mixture 
 of vice and virtue, a contest of passion and reason ; and that the 
 Creator doth not appear partial in his distributions, but has 
 balanced, in most countries, their particular inconveniences by 
 particular favours." 
 
 Here we have an early example of that brilliant and ener- 
 getick expression, which, upon innumerable occasions in his 
 subsequent life, justly impressed the world with the highest 
 admiration. 
 
 Nor can any one, conversant with the writings of Johnson, fail 
 to discern his hand in this passage of the dedication to John 
 Warren, Esq., of Pembrokeshire, though it is ascribed to Warren 
 the bookseller : — 
 
 " A generous and elevated mind is distinguished by nothing 
 more certainly than" an eminent degree of curiosity ;^ nor is that 
 curiosity ever more agreeably or usefully employed, than in 
 examining the laws and customs of foreign nations. I hope, 
 therefore, the present I now presume to make will not be 
 thought improper, which, however, it is not my business as a 
 dedicator to commend, nor as a bookseller to depreciate." 
 
 It is reasonable to suppose, that his having been thus acci- 
 dentally led to a particular study of the history and manners of 
 Abyssinia, was the remote occasion of his writing, many years 
 
 1 See Rambler, No. 103, " Curiosity is the thirst of the soul," &c.
 
 AGE 24-26.] SEEKS OTHER PEN WORK. 53 
 
 afterwards, his admirable philosophical tale, the principal scene 
 of which is laid in that country.^ 
 
 Johnson returned to Lichfield early in 1734, and in August 
 that year he made an attempt to procure some little subsistence 
 by his pen ; for he published proposals for printing by subscrip- 
 tion the Latin Poems of " Politian ;"2 Angeli Politiani Poc7nata 
 Latina, qiiibus, Notas cum historid LatiiKZ poeseos a PetrarchcE 
 (zvo ad Politiani tempora deductd, et vita Politiani fusiiis quam 
 anteJiac enarratd, addidit Sam Johnson.^ 
 
 It appears that his brother Nathanael had taken up his father's 
 trade ; for it is mentioned that " subscriptions are taken in by 
 the Editor, or N. Johnson, bookseller, of Lichfield."^ Notwith- 
 standing the merit of Johnson, and the cheap price at which this 
 book was offered, there were not subscribers enough to ensure 
 a sufficient sale ; so the work never appeared, and probably 
 never was executed. 
 
 We find him again this year at Birmingham, and there is 
 preserved the following letter from him to Mr. Edward Cave,^ 
 
 1 \Rasselas ; written in 1759.] 
 
 2 May we not trace a fanciful similarity between Politian and Johnson ? 
 
 Huetius, speaking of Paulus Pelissonius Fontanerius, says, " in quo 
 
 Natura, ut olim in Angelo Politiano, deformitatem oris e.xcellentis ingenii 
 praestantia compensavit." Comment, de reb. ad eum pertin. Edit. Amstel., 
 1718, p. 200. 
 
 3 The book was to contain more than thirty sheets, the price to be two 
 shillings and sixpence at the time of subscribing, and two shillings and 
 sixpence at the delivery of a perfect book in cjuires. 
 
 * [Nathanael kept the shop as long as he lived, as did his mother, after 
 him, till her death. Miss Seward, who in such a matter as this may perhaps 
 be trusted, gives us an amiable still-life picture of Miss Porter, and telis us, 
 that "from the age of twenty to her fortieth year (when she was raised to a 
 state of competency by the death of her eldest brother), she had boarded 
 in Lichfield with Dr. Johnson's mother, who still kept that litde bookseller's 
 shop by which her husband had supplied the scanty means of subsistence : 
 meantime Lucy Porter kept the best company in our little city, but 
 would make no engagement on market-days, lest Graiuiy, as she called 
 Mrs. Johnson, should catch cold by serving in the shop. There Lucy 
 Porter took her place, standing behind the counter, nor thought it a disgrace 
 to thank a poor person who purchased from her a penny battledore." — 
 Croker.] 
 
 ^ Miss Cave, the grand-niece of Mr. Edward Cave, has obligingly shown 
 me the originals of this and the other letters of Dr. Johnson to him, which 
 were first published in the Gcntiemaii's Magazine, with notes by Mr. John 
 Nichols, the worthy and indefatigable editor of that valuable miscellany, 
 signed N. ; some of which I shall occasionally transcribe in the course of 
 this work.
 
 54 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1734-35. 
 
 J\Iagasine 
 
 the original compiler and editor of the Gcntleinaiis 
 
 "To Mr. Cave. 
 
 "' N'ovejiider 2^, 173-1- 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 "As you appear no less sensible than your readers of 
 the defects of your poetical article, you will not be displeased, 
 if, in order to the improvement of it, I communicate to you the 
 sentiments of a person, who will undertake on reasonable terms, 
 sometimes to fill a column. 
 
 " His opinion is, that the publick would not give you a bad 
 reception, if, beside the current wit of the month, which a critical 
 examination would generally reduce to a narrow compass, you 
 admitted not only poems, inscriptions, &c., never printed before, 
 which he will sometimes supply you with, but likewise short 
 literary dissertations in Latin or English, critical remarks on 
 authours, ancient or modern, forgotten poems, that deserve re- 
 vival, or loose pieces, like Floyer's ^ worth preserving. By this 
 method, your literary article, for so it might be called, will, he 
 thinks, be better recommended to the publick than by low jests, 
 awkward buffoonery, or the dull scurrilities of either party. 
 
 " If such a correspondence will be agreeable to you, be pleased 
 to inform me in two posts, what the conditions are on which you 
 shall expect it. Your late offer- gives me no reason to distrust 
 your generosity. If you engage in any literary projects besides 
 this paper, I have other designs to impart, if I could be secure 
 from having others reap the advantage of what I should hint. 
 
 "Your letter by being directed to vS. Smith, to be left at the 
 Castle, in Birmingham, Warwickshire, will reach 
 
 " Your humble servant." 
 
 1 Sir John Floyer's " Treatise on Cold Baths." Gentleman^ s Magasine, 
 1734, p. 197. [This letter was probably sent by Johnson himself: who, a 
 very short time before his death, pressed Mr. Nichols to give to the public 
 some account of the life and works of Sir John Floyer, "whose learning 
 and piety," he said, " deserve recording." — See Lit. Anec.,\o\.\. p. 19. — 
 Wright.] 
 
 - [A prize of fifty pounds for the best poem "On Life, Death, Judge- 
 ment, Heaven, and Hell." See Gcntlciiian's Magazine, vol. iv. p. 560. — 
 Nichols.] ["Being," says Dr. Johnson, "but newly acquainted with 
 wealth, and thinking the influence of fifty pounds very great, Cave expected 
 the first authors of the kingdom to appear as competitors ; and offered the 
 allotment of the prize to the Universities. But, when the time came, no 
 name was seen among the writers that had ever been seen before." — 
 Life of Cave. A second prize of forty pounds, and some others of inferior 
 value, were offered by Cave, at subsequent periods, for poems on similar 
 subjects. — Croker.]
 
 Age 25-26.] FIRST LETTER TO CAVE. 55 
 
 Mr. Cave has put a note to this letter, " Answered, Dec. 2." 
 But whether anything was done in consequence of it we are not 
 informed. 
 
 Johnson had, from his early youth, been sensible to the 
 influence of female charms. When at Stourbridge school, he 
 was much enamoured of Olivia Lloyd, a young quaker, to whom 
 he wrote a copy of verses, which I have not been able to recover;^ 
 but with what facility and elegance he could warble the amorous 
 lay, will appear from the following lines which he wrote for his 
 friend Mr. Edmund Hector : — 
 
 [1731. Age 22.] 
 
 Verses to a Lady, on receiving from her a Sprig ^Myrtle. 
 
 " What hopes, what terrours does thy gift create, 
 Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate ! 
 The myrtle, ensign of supreme commxand, 
 Consign' d by Venus to Melissa's hand ; 
 Not less capricious than a reigning fair, 
 Now grants, and now rejects a lover's prayer. 
 In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain, 
 In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain : 
 
 ^ [He also wrote some amatory verses, before he left Staffordshire, which 
 our author appears not to have seen. They were addressed " To Miss 
 Hickman, playing on the Spinet." At the back of this early poetical effu- 
 sion, of which the original copy, in Johnson's handwriting, was obligingly 
 communicated to me by Mr. John Taylor, is the following attestation : — 
 
 "Written by the late Dr. Saumel Johnson, on my mother, then 
 Miss Hickman, playing on the Spinet. J. Turton." 
 
 Dr. Turton, the physician, the writer of this certificate, who died in April, 
 1S06, in his 71st year, was born in 1735. The verses in question, therefore, 
 which have been printed in some late editions of Johnson's poems must have 
 been written before that year. — Miss Hickman, it is believed, was a lady of 
 Staffordshire. 
 
 The concluding lines of this early copy of verses have much of the 
 vigour of Johnson's poetry in his maturer years: — 
 
 " When old Timotheus struck the vocal string, 
 Ambitious fury fir'd the Grecian king : 
 Unbounded projects lab' ring in his mind, 
 He pants for room, in one poor world confin'd. 
 Thus wak'd to rage by musick's dreadful power, 
 He bids the sword destroy, the flame devour. 
 Had Stella's gentle touches mov'd the lyre, 
 Soon had the monarch felt a nobler fire ; 
 No more delighted with disastrous war, 
 Ambitious only now to please the fair, 
 Resign'd his thirst of empire to her charms, 
 And found a thousand worlds in Stella's arms." — Malone.]
 
 56 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1735. 
 
 The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads, 
 The unhappy lover's grave the myrtle spreads : 
 O then the meaning of thy gilt impart, 
 And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart ! 
 Soon must this bough, as you shall fix his doom, 
 Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb."^ 
 
 ^ Mrs. Piozzi gives the following account of this little composition from 
 Dr. Johnson's own relation to her, on her inquiring whether it was rightly 
 attributed to him. " I think it is now, just forty years ago, that a young 
 fellow had a sprig of myrtle given him by a girl he courted, and asked me 
 to write him some verses that he might present her in return. I pro- 
 mised, but forgot ; and when he called for his lines at the time agreed on — 
 'Sit still a moment,' (says I,) 'dear Mund, and I'll fetch them thee' — so 
 stepped aside for five minute?, and wrote the nonsense you now keep such 
 a stir about." — Anecdotes, p. 34. 
 
 In my first edition I Avas induced to doubt the authenticity of this 
 account, by the following circumstantial statement in a letter to me from 
 Miss Seward, of Lichfield : — "I know those verses were addressed to Lucy 
 Porter, when he was enamoured of her in his boyish days, two or three 
 years before he had seen her mother, his future wife. He wrote them at 
 my grandfathers, and gave them to Lucy in the presence of my mother, to 
 whom he showed them on the instant. She used to repeat them to me, 
 when I asked her for the Verses Dr. JoJuison gave her ' On a Sprii^ of 
 Myrtle ' ivhicJi he had stolen or begged from her bosom. We all know honest 
 Lucy Portei: to have been incapable of the mean vanity of applying to 
 herself a compliment not intended for her." Such was this Lady's state- 
 ment, which I make no doubt she supposed to be correct : but it shows how 
 dangerous it is to trust too implicitly to traditional testimony and ingenious 
 inference ; for Mr. Hector has lately assured me that Mrs. Piozzi's account 
 is in this instance accurate, and that he was the person for whom Johnson 
 wrote those verses, which have been erroneously ascribed to Mr. Hammond. 
 
 I am obliged in so many instances to notice Mrs. Piozzi's incorrectness of 
 relation, that I gladly seize this opportunity of acknowledging, that however 
 often, she is not always inaccurate. 
 
 The authour having been drawn into a controversy with Miss Anna 
 Seward, in consequence of the preceding statement (which may be found in 
 the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. Ixiii. and Ixiv.), received the following letter 
 from Mr. Edmund Hector, on the subject : 
 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 " I am sorry to see you are engaged in altercation with a lady who 
 seems unwilling to be convinced of her errors. Surely it would be more 
 ingenuous to acknowledge than to persevere. 
 
 "Lately, in looking over some papers I meant to burn, I found the 
 original manuscript of 'The Myrtle,' with the date on it, 1731, which I 
 have enclosed. 
 
 "The true history (which I could swear to) is as follows: — Mr. Morgan 
 Graves, the elder brother of a worthy clergyman near Bath, Mith whom I 
 was acquainted, waited upon a lady in this neighbourhood, who at parting 
 presented him the branch. He showed it me, and wished much to return 
 the compliment in verse. I applied to Johnson, who was with me, and in 
 about half an hour dictated the verses which I sent to my friend. 
 
 " I most solemnly declare, at that time, Johiison was an entire stranger to
 
 Age 26.] HIS INTRODUCTIOX TO MRS. PORTER. 57 
 
 His juvenile attachments to the fair sex were, however, very 
 transient ; and it is certain, that he formed no criminal connec- 
 tion whatsoever. Mr. Hector, who lived with him in his younger 
 days in the utmost intimacy and social freedom, has assured 
 me, that even at that ardent season his conduct was strictly 
 virtuous in that respect ; and that though he loved to exhilarate 
 himself with wine, he never knew him intoxicated but once. 
 
 In a man whom religious education has secured from licen- 
 tious indulgences, the passion of love, when once it has seized 
 him, is exceedingly strong ; being unimpaired by dissipation, and 
 totally concentrated in one object. This was experienced by 
 Johnson, when he became the fervent admirer of Mrs. Porter, 
 after her first husband's death.^ Miss Porter told me, that when 
 he was first introduced to her mother, his appearance was very 
 forbidding ; he was then lean and lank, so that his immense 
 structure of bones was hideously striking to the eye, and the 
 scars of the scrofula were deeply visible. He also wore his 
 hair, which was straight and stiff, and separated behind : and 
 he often had, seemingly, convulsive starts and odd gesticula- 
 tions, which tended to excite at once surprise and ridicule. 
 Mrs, Porter was so much engaged by his conversation that she 
 overlooked all these external disadvantages, and said to her 
 daughter, " this is the most sensible man that I ever saw in 
 my life." 
 
 Though Mrs. Porter was double the age of Johnson,- and 
 
 the Porter family ; and it was almost two years after that I introduced him 
 to the acquaintance of Porter, whom I bought my cloaths of. 
 
 " If you intend to convince this obstinate woman, and to exhibit to the 
 pubhck the truth of your narrative, you are at liberty to make what use you 
 please of this statement. 
 
 " I hope you will pardon mc taking up so much of your time. Wishing 
 you uuilios et f dices aiuios, I shall subscribe myself 
 
 "Your obliged humble servant, 
 " E. Hector, Birmingham, January 9, 1794." 
 
 ^ [It appears from Mr. Hector's letter, that Johnson became acquainted 
 with her three years before he married her.- — Malone.] 
 
 2 [Mrs. Johnson's maiden name was Jervis.- — Though there was a great 
 disparity of years between her and Dr. Johnson, she was not quite so old as 
 she is here represented, having only completed her forty-eighth year in the 
 month of February preceding her marriage, as appears by the following 
 extract from the parish-register of Great Peatling, in Leicestershire, which 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 58 BOSWELHS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1735. 
 
 her person and manner, as described to me by the late Mr. 
 Garrick, were by no means pleasing to others,^ she must have had 
 a superiority of understanding and talents,' as she certainly 
 inspired him with a more than ordinary passion ; and she having 
 signified her willingness to accept of his hand, he went to Lich- 
 field to ask his mother's consent to the marriage ; which he could 
 not but be conscious was a very imprudent scheme, both on 
 account of their disparity of years, and her want of fortune.^^ 
 
 was obligingly made at my request, by the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Ryder, Rector 
 of Lutterworth, in that county : — 
 
 "AnnoDom. i688-[89]. Elizabeth, the daughter of William Jervis, Esq., 
 and Mrs. Anne his wife, born the fourth day of February and maiie, 
 baptised i6th day of the same month by Mr. Smith, Curate of Little 
 Peatling. John Allen, Vicar." 
 
 The family of Jervis, Mr. Ryder informs me, once possessed nearly the 
 whole lordship of Great Peatling (about 2,000 acres), and there are many 
 monuments of them in the Church ; but the estate is noM^ much reduced. 
 The present representative of this ancient family is Mr. Charles Jervis, of 
 Hinckley, Attorney-at-Law. — Malone.] 
 
 ' [That in Johnson's eyes she was handsome, appears from the epitaph 
 which he caused to be inscribed on her tombstone not long before his own 
 death, and which may be found in a subsequent page, under the year 1752. — 
 Malone.] 
 
 2 [The following account of Mrs. Johnson, and her family, is copied from 
 a paper (chiefly relating to Mrs. Anna Williams) written by Lady Knight at 
 Rome, and transmitted by her to the late John Hoole, Esq., the translator of 
 Metastasio, &c., by whom it was inserted in the European Magazine for 
 October, 1799 : — 
 
 " Mrs. Williams's account of Mrs. Johnson was, that she had a good 
 understanding, and great sensibility, but inclined to be satirical. Her first 
 husband died insolvent ; her sons Mere much disgusted with her for her 
 second marriage, perhaps because they being struggling to get advanced in 
 life, were mortified to think she had allied herself to a man who had not 
 any visible means of being useful to them ; however, she always retained 
 her affection for them. While they [Dr. and Mrs. Johnson] resided in 
 Gough Square, her son, the officer, knocked at the door, and asked the maid 
 if her mistress was at home. She answered, ' Yes, Sir, but she is sick in 
 bed.' 'Oh,' says he, 'if it's so, tell her that her son Jervis called to know 
 how she did ; ' and was going away. The maid begged she might run up to 
 tell her mistress, and Mithout attending his answer, left him. Mrs. Johnson, 
 enraptured to hear her son was below, desired the maid to tell him she 
 longed to embrace him. When the maid descended the gentleman was 
 gone, and poor Mrs. Johnson was much agitated by the adventure : it was 
 the only time he ever made an effort to see her. Dr. Johnson did all he 
 could to console his wife, but told Mrs. Williams, 'Her son is uniformly 
 undutiful ; so I conclude, like many other sober men, he might once in his 
 life be drunk, and in that fit nature got the better of his pride.' " — Malone. 
 
 3 [Sir John Hawkins says that upon Johnson's marriage with Mrs. Porter 
 " her fortune, which is conjectured to have been about eight hundred pounds, 
 placed him in a state of affluence to which before he had been a stranger."
 
 Age 26.] BEGINNING OF HIS MARRIED LIFE. 59 
 
 But Mrs. Johnson knev/ too well the ardour of her 
 son's temper, and was too tender a parent to oppose his 
 inclinations. 
 
 I know not for what reason the marriage ceremony was not 
 performed at Birmingham ; but a resolution was taken that it 
 should be at Derby, for which place the bride and bridegroom 
 set out on horseback, I suppose in very good humour. But 
 though Mr. Topham Beauclerk used archly to mention John- 
 son's having told him with much gravity, " Sir, it was a love 
 marriage on both sides," I have had from my illustrious friend 
 the following curious account of their journey to church upon 
 the nuptial morn : [9th July] — " Sir, she had read the old 
 romances, and had got into her head the fantastical notion that 
 a woman of spirit should use her lover like a dog. So, Sir, at 
 first she told me that I rode too fast, and she could not keep up 
 with me ; and, when I rode a little slower, she passed me, and 
 complained that I lagged behind. I was not to be made the 
 slave of caprice ; and I resolved to begin as I meant to end. 
 I therefore pushed on briskly, till I was fairly out of her sight. 
 The road lay between two hedges, so I was sure she could not 
 miss it ; and I contrived that she should soon come up with me. 
 When she did, I observed her to be in tears." 
 
 This, it must be allowed, was a singular beginning of connu- 
 bial felicity ; but there is no doubt that Johnson, though he 
 thus shewed a manly firmness, proved a most affectionate and 
 indulgent husband to the last moment of Mrs. Johnson's life : 
 and in his Prayers and Alcditatious, we find very remarkable 
 
 IMoney of his wife's must have formed the capital invested in the school 
 ■when, says Sir John Hawkins, on the advice of his friend, Mr. Gilbert 
 Walmsley, Registrar of the Ecclesiastical Court at Lichfield, he took a large 
 house, "which, however the name of it be spelt, the common people call 
 Edjal." Mr. Walmsley is said to have caused Captain Garrick to send to 
 Johnson's school his son David "who, though he had been educated in 
 Lichfield school, and was then near eighteen years old, having been diverted 
 in the course of his studies by a call to Lisbon, stood in need of improve- 
 ment in the Latin and French languages." Another pupil was the son of 
 Mr. Cffley, of Staffordshire. Of Mrs. Porter's son and her daughter Lucy, 
 Sir John wrote, " It is certain that she had a son and daughter grown up ; 
 the former was in the last war a captain in the navy, and his sister inherited 
 from him a handsome fortune acquired in the course of a long service.'"]
 
 i 
 
 60 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1736. 
 
 evidence that his regard and fondness for her never ceased, even 
 after her death. 
 
 He now set up a private academy, for which purpose he 
 hired a large house, well situated near his native city. . In 
 the Geiitleinans Magazme for 1736,^ there is the following 
 advertisement : — 
 
 ''At Edial, ;/mr Lichfield, in StaffordsJdre, young gentlemen 
 arc boarded and taught the Latin and Greek languages, by 
 Samuel Johnson." 
 
 But the only pupils that were put under his care were the 
 celebrated David Garrick and his brother George, and a Mr. 
 Offely, a young gentleman of good fortune who died early."'^ 
 As yet, his name had nothing of that celebrity which afterwards 
 commanded the highest attention and respect of mankind. Had 
 such an advertisement appeared after the publication of his 
 London, or his Rambler, or his Dictionary, how would it have 
 burst upon the world ! with what eagerness would the great and 
 the wealthy have embraced an opportunity of putting their sons 
 under the learned tuition of SAMUEL JOHNSON. The truth, 
 however, is, that he was not so well qualified for being a teacher 
 of elements, and a conductor in learning by regular gradations, 
 as men of inferior powers of mind. His own acquisitions had 
 been made by fits and starts, by violent irruptions into the 
 regions of knowledge ; and it could not be expected that his 
 impatience would be subdued, and his impetuosity restrained, 
 so as to fit him for a quiet guide to novices. The art of com- 
 municating instruction, of whatever kind, is much to be valued ; 
 and I have ever thought that those who devote themselves to 
 this employment, and do their duty with diligence and success, 
 are entitled to very high respect from the community, as John- 
 son himself often maintained. Yet I am of opinion, that the 
 greatest abilities are not only not required for this office, but 
 render a man less fit for it. 
 
 In June and July, 1736. The marriage was in July, 1735.] 
 'The Memoirs mention Dr. Hawkesworth as one of his pupils, and 
 seems to imply (as, indeed, does Mr. Garrick's subsequent testimony) that 
 there were more.— Croker.] [Sir John Hawkins says there were five or six 
 pupils, never more than eight, and of those not all boarders.]
 
 Age 27.] AS THE HEAD OF A.V ACADEMY. 61 
 
 While we acknowledge the justness of Thomson's beautiful 
 
 remark, 
 
 " Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, 
 And teach the young idea how to shoot ! " 
 
 we must consider that this delight is perceptible only by " a 
 mind at ease," a mind at once calm and clear ; but that a mind 
 gloomy and impetuous, like that of Johnson, cannot be fixed for 
 any length of time in minute attention, and must be so fre- 
 quently irritated by unavoidable slowness and errour in the 
 advances of scholars, as to perform the duty, with little pleasure 
 to the teacher, and no great advantage to the pupils. Good 
 temper is a most essential requisite in a preceptor. Horace 
 paints the character as bland : 
 
 " Ut pueris olim dant crustula blandi 
 
 Doctores, elementa velint ut discere prima." ^ 
 
 Johnson was not more satisfied with his situation as the 
 master of an academy, than with that of the usher of a school ; 
 we need not wonder, therefore, that he did not keep his academy 
 above a year and a half. From Mr. Garrick's account he did 
 not appear to have been profoundly reverenced by his pupils. 
 His oddities of manner, and uncouth gesticulations, could not 
 but be the subject of merriment to them ; and in particular, the 
 young rogues used to listen at the door of his bedchamber, and 
 peep through the keyhole, that they might turn into ridicule 
 his tumultuous and awkward fondness for Mrs. Johnson, whom 
 he used to name by the familiar appellation of Tetty or Tctscy, 
 which, like Betty or Betsey, is provincially used as a contraction 
 for Elizabeth, her Christian name, but which to us seems ludic- 
 rous, when applied to a woman of her age and appearance. 
 Mr. Garrick described her to me as very fat, with a bosom of 
 more than ordinary protuberance, with swelled cheeks, of a 
 florid red, produced by thick painting, and increased by the 
 liberal use of cordials ; flaring and fantastick in her dress, and 
 affected both in her speech and her general behaviour. I have 
 
 ^ [" As masters blandly soothe their b^iys to read 
 With cakes and sweetmeats — — .'' — Hor. i, Sat. i., 25. 
 
 Francis.]
 
 62 BOSU'ELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSOIV. [1736-37. 
 
 seen Garrick exhibit her, by his exquisite talent of mimickry, so 
 as to excite the heartiest bursts of laughter ; but he, probably, 
 as is the case in all such representations, considerably aggra- 
 vated the picture. 
 
 That Johnson well knew the most proper course to be pur- 
 sued in the instruction of youth, is authentically ascertained by 
 the following paper in his own handwriting, given about this 
 period to a relation, and now in the possession of Mr. John 
 Nichols : — 
 
 " Scheme for the Classes of a Grammar School.^ 
 
 "When the introduction, or formation of nouns and verbs, is 
 perfectly mastered, let them learn 
 
 " Corderius by Mr. Clarke, beginning at the same time to 
 translate out of the introduction, that by this means they may 
 learn the syntax. Then let them proceed to 
 
 " Erasmus, with an English translation, by the same authour. 
 
 "Class II. Learns Eutropius and Cornelius Nepos, or Justin, 
 with the translation. 
 
 " N.B. The firs, class gets for their part every morning the 
 rules which they have learned before, and in the afternoon 
 learns the Latin rules of the nouns and verbs. 
 
 "They are examined in the rules which they have learned, 
 every Thursday and Saturday. 
 
 "The second class does the same whilst they are in Eutro- 
 pius ; afterwards their part is in the irregular nouns and verbs, 
 and in the rules for making and scanning verses. They are 
 examined as the first. 
 
 "Class III. Ovid's Metamorphoses in the morning, and 
 Caesar's Commentaries in the afteriioon. 
 
 ^ [Mr. Boswell was mistaken in supposing tliis to have been one paper. 
 It is clear that there are two separate schemes, the first for a school — the 
 second for the individual studies of some young friend : and surely this 
 crude sketch for the arrangement of the lower classes of a grammar-school 
 does not "authentically ascertain what Johnson thought the most proper 
 course to be pursued in the instruction of youth." It may even be doubted 
 whether it is good as far as it goes, and whether the beginning with 
 authors of inferior latinity, and allowing the assistance of translations, be, 
 mdeed, the most proper course of classical instruction; nor are we, while 
 i'Tnorant of the peculiar circumstances for which the paper was drawn up, 
 entitled to conclude that it contains Dr. Johnson's mature and general senti- 
 ments on even the narrow branch of education to which it refers. — Croker.] 
 [It was "one paper" in Johnson's MS. Sir John Hawkins also gave its 
 whole substance from '■'• a paper which I have now before me.'"]
 
 Age 27-28.] ' SCHEME FOR A SYSTEM OF STUDY. 63 
 
 "Practise in the Latin rules till they are perfect in them; 
 afterwards in Mr. Leeds's Greek Grammar. Examined as 
 before. 
 
 "Afterwards they proceed to Virgil, beginning at the same 
 time to write themes and verses, and to learn Greek ; from 
 thence passing on to Horace, &c., as shall seem most proper. 
 
 " I know not well what books to direct you to, because you 
 have not informed me what study you will apply yourself to. I 
 believe it will be most for your advantage to apply yourself 
 wholly to the languages, till you go the university. The Greek 
 authors I think it best for you to read are these : — 
 
 Cebes. 
 .^lian. 
 Lucian by Leeds. \ Attick 
 
 ) 
 
 Xenophon. j 
 
 Homer, lonick. 
 
 Theocritus. " Dorick. 
 
 Euripides. Attick and Dorick. 
 
 " Thus you will be tolerably skilled in all the dialects, 
 beginning with the Attick, to which the rest must be referred. 
 
 "In the study of Latin, it is proper not to read the latter 
 authors, till you are well versed in those of the purest ages ; 
 as Terence, Tully, Caesar, Sallust, Nepos, Velleius Paterculus, 
 Virgil, Horace, Phaedrus. 
 
 " The greatest and most necessary task still remains, to attain 
 a habit of expression, without which knowledge is of little use. 
 This is necessary in Latin, and more necessary in English ; and 
 can only be acquired by a daily imitation of the best and 
 correctest authors. 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 While Johnson kept his academy, there can be no doubt 
 that he was insensibly furnishing his mind with various know- 
 ledge ; but I have not discovered that he wrote any thing except 
 a great part of his tragedy of Irene, Mr. Peter Garrick, the 
 elder brother of David, told me that he remembered Johnson's 
 borrowing the Turkish History of him, in order to form his 
 play from it.^ When he had finished some part of it, he read 
 
 ^ [Of Knolles's History of the 77^ r/tj-, Johnson says, in the Rambler, "it 
 displays all the excellences that narration can admit, and nothing could
 
 64 nOSWELIJS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1737, 
 
 what he had done to Mr. Walmsley, who objected to his havin^^ 
 already brought his heroine into great distress, and asked him, 
 " How can you possibly contrive to plunge her into deeper 
 calamity ?" Johnson, in sly allusion to the supposed oppressive 
 proceedings of the court of which Mr. Walmsley was registrar, 
 replied, " Sir, I can put her into the Spiritual Court ! " 
 
 Mr. Walmsley, however, was well pleased with this proof of 
 Johnson's abilities as a dramatick writer, and advised him to 
 finish the tragedy, and produce it on the stage. 
 
 Johnson now thought of trying his fortune in London, the 
 great field of genius and exertion, where talents of every kind 
 have the fullest scope, and the highest encouragement. It is 
 a memorable circumstance that his pupil David Garrick went 
 thither at the same time,^ with intent to complete his education, 
 and follow the profession of the law, from which he was soon 
 diverted by his decided preference for the stage. 
 
 This joint expedition of those two eminent men to the metro- 
 polis, was many years afterwards noticed in an allegorical poem 
 on Shakspeare's Mulberry-tree, by Mr. Lovibond, the ingenious 
 author of The Tears of Old May-day. 
 
 They were recommended to Mr. Colson,- an eminent mathe- 
 
 have sunk its author in obscurity, but the remoteness and barbarity of the 
 people whose story he relates." No. 122. " Old Knolles," said Lord Byron, 
 at Alissolonghi, a few weeks before his death, "was one of the first books 
 that gave me pleasure when a child ; and I believe it had much influence 
 on my future wishes to visit the Levant, and gave, perhaps, the oriental 
 colouring which is observed in my poetry." Works, vol. i.x. p. 141. — 
 
 LOCKHART.] 
 
 1 Both of theni used to talk pleasantly of this their first journey to London, 
 Garrick, evidently meaning to embellish a little, said one day in my hearing, 
 "We rode and tied." And the Bishop of Killaloe [Dr. Barnard] informed 
 me, that at another time, when Johnson and Garrick were dining together 
 in a pretty large company, Johnson humorously ascertaining the chronology 
 of something, expressed himself thus : " That was the year when I came 
 to London with twopence halfpenny in my pocket." Garrick overhearing 
 him, e.xclaimcd, "Eh? what do you say? with twopence halfpenny in your 
 pocket?" — Johnson: "Why, yes; when I came with twopence halfpenny 
 in my pocket, and thou, Davy, with three halfpence in thine." [Sir John 
 Hawkins tells, on the authority of a witness, that when they had been but a 
 short time in London, Garrick and Johnson applied together to Mr. Wilcox, 
 a bookseller in the Strand, of whom Garrick had a slight knowledge, and 
 obtained from him a loan of five pounds, which was soon after punctually 
 repaid.] 
 
 - The Reverend John Colson was bred at Emmanuel College, in Cambridge,
 
 Age 28.] WITH GARRICK TO LONDON. 65 
 
 matician and master of an academy, by the following letter 
 from Mr. Walmsley : — 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. COLSON. 
 
 "Lichfield, Marcn 2, 1737. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I had the favour of yours, and am extremely obliged 
 to you ; but I cannot say I had a greater affection for you upon 
 it than I had before, being long since so much endeared to you, 
 as well by an early friendship, as by your many excellent 
 and valuable qualifications ; and, had I a son of my own, it 
 would be my ambition, instead of sending him to the University, 
 to dispose of him as this young gentleman is. 
 
 " He, and another neighbour of mine, one Mr. Samuel John- 
 son, set out this morning for London together. David Garrick 
 is to be with you early the next week, and Mr. Johnson to try 
 his fate with a tragedy, and to see to get himself employed in 
 some translation, either from the Latin or the French. Johnson 
 is a very good scholar and poet, and I have great hopes will 
 turn out a fine tragedy-writer. If it should any way lie in 
 your way, I doubt not but you would be ready to recommend 
 and assist your countryman. 
 
 "G. Walmsley." 
 
 How he employed himself upon his first coming to London 
 is not particularly known. ^ I never heard that he found any 
 protection or encouragement by the means of Mr. Colson, to 
 
 and in 1728, when George IL visited that University, was created Master of 
 Arts. About that time he became First Master of the Free School at 
 Rochester, founded by Sir Joseph Williamson. In 1739, he was appointed 
 Lucasian Professor of Mathematics in the University of Cambridge, on the 
 death of Professor Sanderson, and held that office till 1759, when he died. 
 He published Lectures on Experi)nental Philosophy, translated from the 
 French of I'Abb^ Nodet, 8vo, 1732, and some other tracts. Our author, it 
 is believed, was mistaken in stating him to have been Master of an Academy. 
 Garrick, probably, during his short residence at Rochester, lived in his house 
 as a private pupil." 
 
 [The character of Gelidus, the philosopher, in the Rambler (No. 24), 
 was meant to represent this gentleman. See Mrs. Piozzi's Anecdotes, iSic, 
 p. 49. — Malone.] 
 
 '^ One curious anecdote was communicated by himself to Mr. John 
 Nichols. Mr. Wilcox the bookseller, on being informed by him that his 
 intention was to get his livelihood as an author, eyed his robust frame 
 attentively, and with a significant look said, "You had better buy a 
 porter's knot." He however added, " Wilcox was one of my best friends." 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 66 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1737- 
 
 whose academy David Garrick went. Mrs. Lucy Porter told 
 me, that Mr. Walmsley gave him a letter of introduction to 
 Lintot his bookseller, and that Johnson wrote some things for 
 him ; but I imagine this to be a mistake, for I have discovered 
 no trace of it, and I am pretty sure he told me that Mr. 
 Cave was the first publisher by whom his pen was engaged in 
 London. 
 
 He had a little money when he came to town, and he knew 
 how he could live in the cheapest manner. His first lodgings 
 were at the house of Mr. Norris, a staymaker, in Exeter-street, 
 adjoining Catherine-street, in the Strand. " I dined (said he) 
 very well for eightpence, with very good company, at the 
 Pine-Apple, in New-street, just by. Several of them had 
 travelled. They expected to meet every day ; but did not 
 know one another's names. It used to cost the rest a shilling, 
 for they drank wine ; but I had a cut of meat for sixpence, and 
 bread for a penny, and gave the waiter a penny; so that I was 
 quite well served, nay, better than the rest, for they gave the 
 waiter nothing." ^ 
 
 He at this time, I believe, abstained entirely from fermented 
 liquors : a practice to which he rigidly conformed for many 
 years together, at different periods of his life.^ 
 
 His Of dins? in the Art of Living in London, I have heard 
 
 ' [But, if we may trust Mr. Cumberland's recollection, he was about this 
 time, or very soon after, reduced still lower; "for, painful as it is to relate," 
 (says that gentleman in his Mcmohs, vol. i. p. 355), "I have heard that 
 illustrious scholar, Dr. Johnson, assert, and he never varied from the truth of 
 fact, that he subsisted himself for a considerable space of time upon the 
 scanty pittance of fourpence halfpenny per day." — Croker.] 
 
 ^ [.\t this time his abstinence from wine may, perhaps, be attributed to 
 poverty, but in his subsequent life he was restrained from that indulgence 
 by, as it appears, moral, or rather medical considerations. He found by 
 experience that wine, though it dissipated for a moment, yet eventually 
 aggravated the hereditary disease under which he suffered ; and perhaps it 
 may have been owing to a long course of abstinence that his mental health 
 seems to have been better in the latter than in the earlier portion of his 
 life. He says, in his Prayers atid Meditations (17 August, 1767), "By 
 abstinence from wine and suppers, I obtained sudden and great relief, and 
 had freedom of mind restored to me ; which I have wanted for all this year, 
 without being able to find any means of obtaining it." — Croker.] 
 
 ^ Ofellus was a philosophic countryman, commemorated by Horace, Sat. 
 ii. 2. [Horace's Ofella rented a farm on an estate of his own that had 
 been taken from him.]
 
 Age 28.] CHEAP LIVING IN LONDON. 67 
 
 him relate, was an Irish painter, whom he knew at Birmingham, 
 and who had practised his own precepts of economy for 
 several years in the British capital. He assured Johnson, who, 
 I suppose, was then meditating to try his fortune in London, 
 but was apprehensive of the expence, "that thirty pounds a 
 year was enough to enable a man to live there without being 
 contemptible. He allowed ten pounds for cloaths and linen. 
 He said a man might live in a garret at eighteen-pence a week ; 
 few people would inquire where he lodged : and if they did, it 
 was easy to say, ' Sir, I am to be found at such a place.' By 
 spending threepence in a coffee-house, he might be for some 
 hours every day in very good company; he might dine for 
 sixpence, breakfast on bread and milk for a penny, and do 
 without supper. On dcan-shirt-day he went abroad, and paid 
 visits." I have heard him more than once talk of his frugal friend, 
 whom he recollected with esteem and kindness, and did not like 
 to have one smile at the recital. " This man" (said he, gravely) 
 " was a very sensible man, who perfectly understood common 
 affairs ; a man of a great deal of knowledge of the world, fresh 
 from life, not strained through books. He borrowed a horse 
 and ten pounds at Birmingham. Finding himself master of so 
 much money, he set off for West Chester, in order to get to 
 Ireland. He returned the horse, and probably the ten pounds 
 too, after he got home." 
 
 Considering Johnson's narrow circumstances in the early part 
 of his life, and particularly at the interesting aera of his launching 
 into the ocean of London, it is not to be wondered at, that an 
 actual instance, proved by experience, of the possibility of 
 enjoying the intellectual luxury of social life upon a very small 
 income, should deeply engage his attention, and be ever recol- 
 lected by him as a circumstance of much importance. He 
 amused himself, I remember, by computing how much more 
 expence was absolutely necessary to live upon the same scale 
 with that which his friend described, when the value of money 
 was diminished by the progress of commerce. It may be 
 estimated that double the money might now with difficulty 
 be sufficient. 
 
 Amidst this cold obscurity, there was one brilliant circum- 
 
 F 2
 
 68 nOSVVELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1737. 
 
 stance to cheer him ; he was well acquainted with Mr. Henry 
 Hervey,^ one of the branches of the noble family of that name, 
 who had been quartered at Lichfield as an officer of the army, 
 and had at this time a house in London, where Johnson was 
 frequently entertained, and had an opportunity of meeting 
 genteel company. Not very long before his death, he mentioned 
 this, among other particulars of his life, which he was kindly 
 communicating to me ; and he described this early friend, 
 " Harry Hervey," thus : " He was a vicious man, but very kind 
 to me. If you call a dog Hervey, I shall love him."^ 
 
 He told me he had now written only three acts of his Irene, 
 and that he retired for some time to lodgings at Greenwich, 
 where he proceeded in it somewhat further, and used to compose, 
 walking in the Park ; but did not stay long enough at that place 
 to finish it. 
 
 At this period we find the following letter from him to Mr. 
 Edward Cave, which, as a link in the chain of his literary 
 history, it is proper to insert : — 
 
 " TO MR. CAVE. 
 
 '' Greenwich, next door to the Golden Heart, Church-street, 
 July 12, 1737. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " Having observed in your papers very uncommon 
 offers of encouragement to men of letters, I have chosen, being 
 a stranger in London, to communicate to you the following 
 
 ^ The Honourable Henry Hervey, third son of the first Earl of Bristol, 
 quitted the army and took orders. He married a sister of Sir Thomas 
 Aston, by whom he got the Aston Estate, and assumed the name and arms 
 of that family. 
 
 [The Honourable Henry Hervey was nearly of the same age with Johnson, 
 having been born about nine months before him, in the year 1709. He 
 married Catherine, the sister of Sir Thomas Aston, in 1739 ; and as that 
 lady had seven sisters, she probably succeeded to the Aston estate on the 
 death of her brother under his will. Mr. Hervey took the degree of Master 
 of Arts at Cambridge, at the late age of thirty-five, in 1744; about which 
 time, it is believed, he entered into holy orders. — Malone.] 
 
 ^ [For the excesses which Dr. Johnson justly characterises as vicious, 
 Mr. Hervey was, perhaps, as much to be pitied as blamed. He was very 
 eccentric. His eldest brother was the celebrated Lord Hervey, Pope's 
 Sporus ; the next, Thomas, of whom we shall see more hereafter (October, 
 1766), was also very clever, but very mad. — Croker.]
 
 Age 28.] IN LODGINGS AT GREENWICH. 69 
 
 design, which, I hope, if you join in it, will be of advantage to 
 both of us. 
 
 " The History of the Council of Trent having been lately 
 translated into French, and published with large Notes by Dr. 
 Le Courayer, the reputation of that book is so much revived in 
 England, that, it is presumed, a new translation of it from the 
 Italian, together with Le Courayer's Notes from the French, 
 could not fail of a favourable reception. 
 
 " If it be answered, that the History is already in English, it 
 must be remembered, that there was the same objection against 
 Le Courayer's undertaking, with this disadvantage, that the 
 French had a version by one of their best translators, whereas 
 you cannot read three pages of the English History without 
 discovering that the style is capable of great improvements ; 
 but whether those improvements are to be expected from this 
 attempt, you must judge from the specimen, which, if you 
 approve the proposal, I shall submit to your examination. 
 
 " Suppose the merit of the versions equal, we may hope that 
 the addition of the notes will turn the balance in our favour, 
 considering the reputation of the Annotator. 
 
 " Be pleased to favour me with a speedy answer, if you are 
 not willing to engage in this scheme ; and appoint me a day to 
 wait upon you, if you are. 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 
 " Your humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 It should seem from this letter, though subscribed with his 
 own name, that he had not yet been introduced to Mr. Cave. 
 We shall presently see what was done in consequence of the 
 proposal which it contains. 
 
 In the course of the summer he returned to Lichfield, where 
 he had left Mrs. Johnson, and there he at last finished his 
 tragedy, which was not executed with his rapidity of composition 
 upon other occasions, but was slowly and painfully elaborated. 
 A few days before his death, while burning a great mass of 
 papers, he picked out from among them the original unformed 
 sketch of this tragedy, in his own hand-writing, and gave it to 
 Mr. Langton, by whose favour a copy of it is now in my posses- 
 .sion. It contains fragments of the intended plot, and speeches 
 for the different persons of the drama, partly in the raw materials 
 of prose, partly worked up into verse ; as also a variety of hinls
 
 70 
 
 nOSlVELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1737- 
 
 for illustration, borrowed from the Greek, Roman, and modern 
 writers. The hand-writing is very difficult to be read, even by 
 those who were best acquainted with Johnson's mode of penman- 
 ship, which at all times was very particular. The King having 
 graciously accepted of this manuscript as a literary curiosity, 
 Mr. Langton made a fair and distinct copy of it, which he 
 ordered to be bound up with the original and the printed 
 tragedy ; and the volume is deposited in the King's library.^ 
 His Majesty was pleased to permit Mr. Langton to take a copy 
 of it for himself. 
 
 The whole of it is rich in thought and imagery, and happy 
 expressions ; and of the disjecta inenibra scattered throughout, 
 and as yet unarranged, a good dramatic poet might avail himself 
 with considerable advantage. I shall give my readers some 
 specimens of different kinds, distinguishing them by the 
 italic character. 
 
 " Nor think to say, here will I stop, 
 Here will I Jix the limits of transgression, 
 Nor farther tempt the avenging rage of heaven. 
 When guilt like this onee harboitrs in the breast, 
 Those holy beings, whose nnseeti direetion 
 Guides through the maze of life the steps of man. 
 Fly the detested mansions of impiety. 
 And quit their charge to horro7(r and to ruin.'''' 
 
 A small part only of this interesting admonition is preserved 
 in the play, and is varied, I think, not to advantage : — 
 
 "The soul once tainted with so foul a crime, 
 No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd ardour, 
 Those holy bemgs whose superior care 
 Guides erring mortals to the paths of virtue, 
 Affrighted at impiety like thine. 
 Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin." 
 
 " I feel the soft infection 
 Flush in my cheek, and wander in my veins. 
 Teach me the Grecian arts of soft persuasion.'^ 
 
 " Stire this is love, which heretofore I conceived the dream of idle maids 
 and wanton poets.''' 
 
 1 [The "King's library" (that of George III.) was given by his son and 
 successor, George IV'., to the British IMubCum.— Malone.]
 
 Age 28.] AT LICHFIELD FINISHING ''IRENEr 71 
 
 " Though no comets or prodigies foretold the niift of Greece, signs which 
 heaven must by another tniracle enable us to understand, yet might it 
 be foreshewn, by tokens no less certain, by the vices -which always bring 
 it on." 
 
 This last passage is worked up in the tragedy itself, as 
 
 follows : — 
 
 Leontius. 
 
 -That power that kindly spreads 
 
 The clouds, a signal of impending showers, 
 To warn the wand'ring linnet to the shade, 
 Beheld, without concern, expiring Greece, 
 And not one prodigy foretold our fate. 
 
 Demetrius. 
 
 A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it ; 
 A feeble government, eluded laws, 
 A factious populace, luxurious nobles. 
 And all the maladies of sinking States. 
 When public villainy, too strong for justice. 
 Shews his bold front, the harbinger of ruin, 
 Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders. 
 Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard ? 
 When some neglected fabrick nods beneath 
 The weight of years, and totters to the tempest. 
 Must heaven despatch the messengers of light, 
 Cr wake the dead to warn us of its fall?" 
 
 Mahomet (to Irene). "/ have tried thee, and joy to find that thou 
 deservest to be loved by Mahomet, — with a tnind great as his own. Sure, 
 thou art an err our of natitre, and an exception to the rest of thy sex, and art 
 immortal; for sentiments like thine were never to sink into nothing. I 
 thought all the thoughts of the fair had been to select the graces of the day, 
 dispose the colours of the flaunting {flowing) robe, tune the voice and roll 
 the eye, place the gem, choose the dress, and add new roses to the fading 
 cheek, but — sparkling.'" 
 
 Thus in the tragedy : — 
 
 " Illustrious maid, new wonders fix me thine ; 
 Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face ; 
 I thought, forgive my fair, the noblest aim. 
 The strongest effort of a female soul, 
 Was but to choose the graces of the day. 
 To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll. 
 Dispose the colours of the flowing robe. 
 And add new roses to the faded cheek."' 
 
 I shall select one other passage, on account of the doctrine 
 which it illustrates. IRENE observes, 
 
 " That the Stipreme Being 7i.'ill accept of virtue, whatever outward cir- 
 cumstances it may be accompanied witli, and may be del/ghted with varieties
 
 72 
 
 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1737-38. 
 
 of worship :'" but is answered, " That variety cannot affect that Being, who, 
 infinitely happy in his own perfections, wants no external gratifications; 
 fior can infinite truth be delighted with falsehood j that though he may guide 
 or pity those he leaves in darkness, he abandons those who shut their eyes 
 against the beams of day.' ' 
 
 Johnson's residence at Lichfield, on his return to it at this 
 time, was only for three months ; and as he had as yet seen but 
 a small part of the wonders of the metropolis, he had little to 
 tell his townsmen. He related to me the followinc: minute 
 anecdote of this period : — " In the last age, when my mother 
 Hved in London, there were two sets of people, those who gave 
 the wall, and those who took it : the peaceable and the quarrel- 
 some. When I returned to Lichfield, after having been in 
 London, my mother asked me, whether I was one of those who 
 gave the wall, or those who took it. Now it is fixed that every 
 man keeps to the right ; or, if one is taking the wall, another 
 yields it ; and it is never a dispute." ^ 
 
 He now removed to London with Mrs. Johnson ; but her 
 daughter, who had lived with them at Edial, was left with her 
 relations in the country. His lodgings were for some time in 
 Woodstock-street, near Hanover-square, and afterwards in Castle- 
 street, near Cavendish-square. As something pleasingly inte- 
 resting, to many, in tracing so great a man through all his 
 different habitations, I shall, before this work is concluded, 
 present my readers with an exact list of his lodgings and houses 
 in order of time, which, in placid condescension to my respectful 
 curiosity, he one evening dictated to me, but without specifying 
 how long he lived at each. In the progress of his life I shall 
 have occasion to mention some of them as connected with 
 particular incidents, or with the writing of particular parts of 
 his works. To some, this minute attention may appear trifling ; 
 but when we consider the punctilious exactness with which the 
 different houses in which Milton resided have been traced by 
 the writers of his life, a similar enthusiasm may be pardoned in 
 the biographer of Johnson. 
 
 His tragedy being by this time, as he thought, completel}' 
 
 ^ fournal of a Tour to the Hebrides.
 
 Age 28-29.] SETTLED IN LONDON. 73 
 
 finished and fit for the stage, he was very desirous that it should 
 be brought forward. Mr. Peter Garrick told me that Johnson 
 and he went together to the Fountain tavern, and read it over, 
 and that he afterwards solicited Mr. Fleetwood, the patentee of 
 Drury-lane theatre, to have it acted at his house ; but Mr. 
 Fleetwood would not accept it, probably because it was not 
 patronized by some man of high rank ; and it was not acted till 
 1749, when his friend David Garrick was manager of that theatre. 
 
 The Gentleman's Magazine, begun and carried on by Mr. 
 Edward Cave, under the name of Sylvanus Urban, had at- 
 tracted the notice and esteem of Johnson, in an eminent degree, 
 before he came to London as an adventurer in literature. He told 
 me that when he first saw St. John's Gate, the place where that 
 deservedly popular miscellany was originally printed, he " beheld 
 it with reverence." I suppose, indeed, that every young authour 
 has had the same kind of feeling for the magazine or periodical 
 publication which has first entertained him, and in which he has 
 first had an opportunity to see himself in print, without the risk 
 of exposing his name. I myself recollect such impressions from 
 " The Scots Magazine," which was begun at Edinburgh in the 
 year 1739, and has been ever conducted with judgment, accuracy, 
 and propriety. I yet cannot help thinking of it with an affec- 
 tionate regard. Johnson has dignified the Gentleman's Magazine 
 by the importance with which he invests the life of Cave ; but he 
 has given it still greater lustre by the various admirable Essays 
 which he wrote for it. 
 
 Though Johnson was often solicited by his friends to make a 
 complete list of his writings, and talked of doing it, I believe 
 with a serious intention that they should all be collected on his 
 own account, he put it off from year to year, and at last died 
 without having done it perfectly. I have one in his own hand- 
 writing, which contains a certain number ; I indeed doubt if he 
 could have remembered every one of them, as they were so 
 numerous, so various, and scattered in such a multiplicity of 
 unconnected publications ; nay, several of them published under 
 the names of other persons, to whom he liberally contri- 
 buted from the abundance of his mind. We must, there- 
 fore, be content to discover them, partly from occasional
 
 74 
 
 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1738. 
 
 information given by him to his friends, and partly from 
 internal evidence.^ 
 
 His first performance in the Gentleman's Magazine, which for 
 many years was his principal resource for employment and 
 support, was a copy of Latin verses, in March, 1738, addressed 
 to the editor in so happy a style of compliment, that Cave must 
 have been destitute both of taste and sensibility, had he not felt 
 himself highly gratified. 
 
 ^^Urbanum.* 
 
 Urbane, iiullisfesse laboribiis. 
 Urbane, nullis vide caltiinniis, 
 Ciii fronte sertiim in encdita 
 PcrpetHO virct et virebit; 
 
 Quid moliatnr gens imitantium, 
 (2nid et jninetnr, solicitus pariim^ 
 Vacare solis pcrge Musis, 
 Juxta aninio stiidiisqiie felix. 
 
 Lingua procacis plmnbea spicula, 
 Fid ens, superbo /range silentio ; 
 I 'icirix per obstantes catervas- 
 Sedulitas animosa tendet. 
 
 Intende tiervos^foriis, inanibus 
 Risurus olim nisibus cemuli ; 
 Intende jam nervos, habebis 
 Participes opera Canicenas. 
 
 Non tilla Mitsis pagina gratior, 
 On ant quce severis liidicra jungere 
 Novit,fatigatamqiie nugis 
 Utilibus recreare mentem. 
 
 Texente Nymphis serta Lycoride, 
 RoscF rtiboreni sic viola adjuvat 
 Iniinista, sic Iris refulget 
 
 uEthereis variatafucis? — S. J. 
 
 1 While in the course of my narrative I enumerate his writings, I shall 
 take care that my readers shall not be left to waver in doubt, between certainty 
 and conjecture, with regard to their authenticity, and, for that purpose, shall 
 mark with an asterisk (*) those which he acknowledged to his friends, and 
 with a daoi^er (t) those which are ascertained to be his by internal evidence. 
 When any' other pieces are ascribed to him, I shall give my reasons. 
 
 '■^ A translation of this Ode, by an unknown correspondent, appeared in the 
 Magazine for the month of i\Iay following : 
 
 " Hail Urban ! indefatigable man, 
 
 Unwearied yet by all thy useful toil !
 
 Age 29-] WORKS FOR ''THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE." 75 
 
 It appears that he was now enlisted by Mr. Cave as a regular 
 coadjutor in his magazine, by which he probably obtained a 
 tolerable livelihood. At what time, or by what means, he had 
 acquired a competent knowledge both of French and Italian, I 
 do not know ; but he was so well skilled in them, as to be 
 sufficiently qualified for a translator. That part of his labour 
 which consisted in emendation and improvement of the produc- 
 tions of other contributors, like that employed in levelling 
 ground, can be perceived only by those who had an opportunity 
 of comparing the original with the altered copy. What we 
 certainly know to have been done by him in this way, was the 
 
 Whom num'rous slanderers assault in vain ; 
 
 Whom no base calumny can put to foil. 
 But still the laurel on thy learned brow 
 Flourishes fair, and shall for ever grow. 
 
 " What mean the servile, imitating crew, 
 
 What the'T vain blust'ring, and their empty noise, 
 
 Ne'er seek ; but still thy noble ends pursue, 
 Unconquer'd by the rabble's venal voice, 
 
 Still to the Muse thy studious mind apply, 
 
 Happy in temper, as in industry. 
 
 "The senseless sneerings of an haughty tongue, 
 
 Unworthy thy attention to engage. 
 Unheeded pass : and tho' they mean thee wrong, 
 
 By manly silence disappoint their rage. 
 Assiduous diligence conf^ounds its foes, 
 Resistless, tho' malicious crowds oppose. 
 
 " Exert thy powers, nor slacken in the course, 
 
 Thy spotless fame shall quash all false reports : 
 
 Exert thy powers, nor fear a rival's force. 
 But thou shalt smile at all his vain efforts ; 
 
 Thy labours shall be crown 'd with large success ; 
 
 The Muse's aid thy Magazine shall bless. 
 
 " No page more grateful to th' harmonious Nine 
 Than that wherein thy labours we survey ; 
 Where solemn themes in fuller splendour shine, 
 
 (Delightful mixture,) blended with the gay. 
 Where in improving, various joys we find, 
 A welcome respite to the wearied mind. 
 
 " Thus when the nymphs in some fair verdant mead, 
 Of various flow'rs a beauteous wreath compose, 
 
 The lovely violet's azure-painted head 
 
 Adds lustre to the crimson-blushing rose. 
 
 Thus splendid Iris, with her varied dye, 
 
 Shines in the Kther, and adorns the sky. — BRITON."
 
 76 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1738. 
 
 Debates in both houses of Parliament, under the name of "The 
 Senate of Lilliput," sometimes with feigned denominations of 
 the several speakers, sometimes with denominations formed of 
 the letters of their real names, in the manner of what is called 
 anagram, so that they might easily be decyphered. Parliament 
 then kept the press in a kind of mysterious awe, which made it 
 necessary to have recourse to such devices. In our time it has 
 acquired an unrestrained freedom, so that the people in all parts 
 of the kingdom have a fair, open, and exact report of the actual 
 proceedings of their representatives and legislators, which in our 
 constitution is highly to be valued ; though, unquestionably, 
 there has of late been too much reason to complain of the 
 petulance with which obscure scribblers have presumed to treat 
 men of the most respectable character and situation. 
 
 This important article of the Gentleman's Magazine was, for 
 several years, executed by Mr. William Guthrie, a man who 
 deserves to be respectably recorded in the literary annals of this 
 country. He was descended of an ancient family in Scotland ; but 
 having a small patrimony, and being an adherent of the unfortun- 
 ate house of Stuart, he could not accept of any office in the state ; 
 he therefore came to London, and employed his talents and 
 learning as an " Authour by profession." His writings in history, 
 criticism, and politicks, had considerable merit.^ He was the first 
 English historian who had recourse to that authentick source of 
 information, the Parliamentary Journals ; and such was the power 
 of his political pen, that, at an early period, Government thought it 
 worth their while to keep it quiet by a pension, which he enjoyed 
 till his death.2 Johnson esteemed him enough to wish that his 
 life should be written. The debates in Parliament, which were 
 brought home and digested by Guthrie, whose memory, though 
 surpassed by others who had since followed him in the same 
 
 1 How much poetry he wrote, I know not ; but he informed me that he was 
 the authour of the beautiful little piece, " The Eagle and Robin Redbreast," 
 in the collection of poems entitled " The Union," though it is there said 
 to be written by Archibald Scott, before the year 1600. 
 
 2 [See, in D' Israeli's Calamities 0/ Authors, vol. i. p. 5, a letter from 
 Guthrie to the minister, dated June 3, 1762, stating that a pension of 200/. 
 a year had been "regularly and quarterly" paid him ever since the year 
 1745-6. Guthrie was born at Brechin in 1708, and died in 1770. — Croker.]
 
 Age 29-] ''THE SENATE OF LILLIPUT" 77 
 
 department, was yet very quick and tenacious, were sent by 
 Cave to Johnson for his revision ; and, after some time, when 
 Guthrie had attained to greater variety of employment, and the 
 speeches were more and more enriched by the accession of 
 Johnson's genius, it was resolved that he should do the whole 
 himself, from the scanty notes furnished by persons employed to 
 attend in both houses of Parliament. Sometimes, however, as 
 he himself told me, he had nothing more communicated to him 
 than the names of the several speakers, and the part which they 
 had taken in the debate. 
 
 Thus was Johnson employed during some of the best years of 
 his life, as a mere literary labourer, " for gain, not glory," solely 
 to obtain an honest support. He however indulged himself in 
 occasional little sallies, which the French so happily express by 
 the term jetix desprit, and which will be noticed in their order, in 
 the progress of this work. 
 
 But what first displayed his transcendent powers, and " gave 
 the world assurance of the Man," was his " London, a Poem, 
 in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal ; " which came out in 
 May this year, and burst forth with a splendour, the rays of which 
 will for ever encircle his name. Boileau had imitated the same 
 satire with great success, applying it to Paris : but an attentive 
 comparison will satisfy every reader, that he is much excelled by 
 the English Juvenal. Oldham had also imitated it, and applied 
 it to London ; all which performances concur to prove, that great 
 cities, in every age, and in every country, will furnish similar 
 topicks of satire. Whether Johnson had previously read Oldham's 
 imitation, I do not know ; but it is not a little remarkable, that 
 there is scarcely any coincidence found between the two perform- 
 ances, though upon the very same subject. The only instances 
 are in describing London as the sink of foreign worthlessness : 
 
 " the cummon shore, 
 
 Where France does all her filth and ordure pour ; " — Oldham. 
 
 . " The coiiniion sliore of Paris and of Rome." — JOHNSON. 
 
 and, 
 
 " No calling or profession comes amiss, 
 A 7iecdy mottsieur can be what he please.'— Oldham. 
 
 "All sciences ?i fasting monsieur knows."' — Johnson.
 
 78 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1738. 
 
 The particulars which Oldham has collected, both as exhibitinfr 
 the horrours of London, and of the times, contrasted with better 
 days, are different from those of Johnson, and in general well 
 chosen, and well exprest.^ 
 
 There are, in Oldham's imitation, many prosaick verses and 
 bad rhymes, and his poem sets out with a strange inadvertent 
 blunder : 
 
 "Tho' much concern'd to leave my dear old friend, 
 I must, however, Jus design commend 
 Of fixing in the country — ." 
 
 It is plain he was not going to leave \ns friend; his friend was 
 
 going to leave him. A young lady at once corrected this with 
 
 good critical sagacity, to 
 
 " Tho' much concerned to lose my dear old friend." 
 
 There is one passage in the original, better transfused by 
 Oldham than by Johnson : 
 
 " A7/ Iinbet iiifelix pauper tas duriiis in se, 
 Quain quod fuiiculos Iw7nines facit.'^ 
 
 which is an exquisite remark on the galling meanness and con- 
 tempt annexed to poverty: Johnson's imitation is, 
 
 " Of all the griefs that harass the distrest, 
 Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest." 
 
 Oldham's, though less elegant, is more just : 
 
 " Nothing in poverty so ill is borne, 
 As its exposing men to grinning scorn." 
 
 ^ I own it pleased me to find amongst them one trait of the manners of the 
 age in London, in the last century, to shield from the sneer of English 
 ridicule, what was some time ago too common a practice in my native city 
 of Edinburgh ! 
 
 "If what I have said can't from the town affright, 
 Consider other dangers of tJie 7iig]it ; 
 When brickbats are from upper stories thrown, 
 And emptied chamber pots come poicri7ig down 
 From garret windowsr 
 
 [Perhaps both nations may defend themselves on the score of precedents, 
 by appealing to the " Praxis Rerum Criminalium " of Damhouderius, a cele- 
 brated lawyer of Bruges. This curious and scarce work, published about the 
 middle of the sixteenth century, is a system of criminal law, in which every 
 crime is illustrated by a wood-cut, shewing the manner of committing it. 
 The nuisance alluded to by Mr. Boswell is the subject of chap. 143, entitled 
 " De damno per ejecta,'' and has a very appropriate engraving. — Chalmers.]
 
 Age 29-] PUBLISHES "LONDON;' A POEM. 79 
 
 Where, or in what manner this poem was composed, I am sorry 
 that I neglected to ascertain with precision, from Johnson's own 
 authority. He has marked upon his corrected copy of the first 
 edition of it, "Written in 1738 ;" and, as it was pubhshed in the 
 month of May in that year, it is evident that much time was not 
 employed in preparing it for the press. The history of its pub- 
 lication I am enabled to give in a very satisfactory manner ; and 
 judging from myself, and many of my friends, I trust that it will 
 not be uninteresting to my readers. 
 
 We may be certain, though it is not expressly named in the 
 following letters to Mr. Cave, in 1738, that they all relate to it : 
 
 ^' TO MR. CAVE. 
 
 " Castle-Street, Wednesday Morning. 
 \_No date, 1738.] 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " When I took the liberty of writing to you a few days 
 ago, I did not expect a repetition of this same pleasure so soon ; for 
 a pleasure I shall always think it, to converse in any manner with 
 an ingenious and candid man ; but having the inclosed poem in 
 my hands to dispose of for the benefit of the authour, (of whose 
 abilities I shall say nothing, since I send you his performance,) 
 I believe I could not procure more advantageous terms from any 
 person than from you, who have so much distinguished yourself 
 by your generous encouragement of poetry ; and whose judge- 
 ment of that art nothing but your commendation of my trifle^ 
 can give me any occasion to call in question. I do not doubt 
 but you will look over this poem with another eye, and reward 
 it in a different manner from a mercenary bookseller, who counts 
 the lines he is to purchase, and considers nothing but the bulk. 
 I cannot help taking notice that besides what the authour may 
 hope for on account of his abilities, he has likewise another 
 claim to your regard, as he lies at present under very disadvan- 
 tageous circumstances of fortune. I beg, therefore, that you will 
 favour me with a letter to-morrow, that I may know what you 
 can afford to allow him, that he may either part with it to you, 
 or find out (which I do not expect,) some other way more to his 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " I have only to add, that as I am sensible I have transcribed it 
 very coarsely, which, after having altered it, I was obliged to do, I 
 
 ^ [His Ode "Ad Urbanum," probably.— NiCHOLS.]
 
 8o BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1738. 
 
 will, if you please to transmit the sheets from the press, correct 
 it for you ; and take the trouble of altering any stroke of satire 
 which you may dislike. 
 
 " By exerting on this occasion your usual generosity, you will 
 not only encourage learning, and relieve distress, but (though it 
 be in comparison of the other motives of very small account) 
 oblige in a very sensible manner, Sir, 
 
 " Your very humble Servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 " to mr. cave. 
 
 " Monday, No. 6, Castle-street. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " I AM to return you thanks for the present you were so 
 kind as to send by me, and to intreat that you will be pleased 
 to inform me by the penny-post, whether you resolve to print 
 the poem. If you please to send it me by the post, with a note 
 to Dodsley, I will go and read the lines to him, that we may 
 have his consent to put his name in the title-page. As to the 
 printing, if it can be set immediately about, I will be so much 
 the authour's friend, as not to content myself with mere solicita- 
 tions in his favour. I propose, if my calculation be near the 
 truth, to engage for the reimbursement of all that you shall lose 
 by an impression of 500 ; provided, as you very generously 
 propose, that the profit, if any, be set aside for the authour's use, 
 excepting the present you made, which, if he be a gainer, it is 
 fit he should repay. I beg that you will let one of your servants 
 write an exact account of the expence of such an impression, 
 and send it with the poem, that I may know what I engage for. 
 I am very sensible, from your generosity on this occasion, of 
 your regard to learning, even in its unhappiest state ; and cannot 
 but think such a temper deserving of the gratitude of those who 
 suffer so often from a contrary disposition. I am, Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble Servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 " to mr. cave. 
 
 \^No daie^ 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " I WAITED on you to take the copy to Dodsley 's : as I 
 remember the number of lines which it contains, it will be no 
 longer than EUGENIO,^ with the quotations, which must be 
 
 1 A poem, published in 1737, of which see an account under April 30, 
 J 773-
 
 Age 29.] PUBLISHES ''LONDON',' A POEM. 81 
 
 subjoined at the bottom of the page ; part of the beauty of the 
 performance (if any beauty be allowed it) consisting in adapting 
 Juvenal's sentiments to modern facts and persons. It will, with 
 those additions, very conveniently make five sheets. And since 
 the expence will be no more, I shall contentedly insure it, as I 
 mentioned in my last. If it be not therefore gone to Dodsley's, 
 I beg it may be sent me by the penny-post, that I may have it 
 in the evening. I have composed a Greek Epigram to Eliza. ^ 
 and think she ought to be celebrated in as many different lan- 
 guages as Lewis le Grand. Pray send me word when you will 
 begin upon the poem, for it is a long way to walk. I would leave 
 my Epigram, but have not day-light to transcribe it. I am. Sir, 
 
 " Yours, &c., 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "TO MR. CAVE. 
 
 \No dateP\ 
 " SIR, 
 
 " I AM extremely obliged by your kind letter, and will 
 not fail to attend you to-morrow with IRENE, who looks upon 
 you as one of her best friends. 
 
 " I was to-day with Mr. Dodsley, who declares very warmly 
 in favour of the paper you sent him, which he desires to have a 
 share in, it being, as he says, a creditable thing to be concerned in. 
 I knew not what answer to make till I had consulted you, nor 
 what to demand on the authour's part, but am very willing that, 
 if you please, he should have a part in it, as he will undoubtedly 
 be more diligent to disperse and promote it. If you can send 
 me word to-morrow what I shall say to him, I will settle matters, 
 and bring the poem with me for the press, which, as the town 
 empties, we cannot be too quick with. — I am, Sir, 
 
 "Yours, &c., 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 To us who have long known the manly force, bold spirit, and 
 masterly versification of this poem, it is a matter of curiosity to 
 observe the diffidence with which its authour brought it forward 
 into publick notice, while he is so cautious as not to avow it to be 
 
 ^ [The learned Mrs. Elizabeth Carter. This lady, of whom frequent 
 mention will be found in these Memoirs, was daughter of Nicholas Carter, 
 D.D. She died in Clarges-street, February 19, 1S06, in her eighty-ninth 
 year. — Malone.] 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1738. 
 
 his own production ; and with what humiHty he offers to allow 
 the printer to " alter any stroke of satire which he might 
 dislike." That any such alteration was made, wc do not know. 
 If we did, we could not but feel an indignant regret; but how 
 painful is it to see that a writer of such vigorous powers of mind 
 was actually in such distress, that the small profit which so 
 short a poem, however excellent, could yield, was courted as 
 a " relief" 
 
 It has been generally said, I know not with what truth, that 
 Johnson offered his " London " to several booksellers, none of 
 whom would purchase it. To this circumstance Mr. Derrick^ 
 alludes in the following lines of his " F"oRTUNE, A Rhapsody : " 
 
 " Will no kind patron Johnson own } 
 Shall Johnson, friendless, range the town ? 
 And every publisher refuse 
 The offspring of his happy Muse.-*" 
 
 But we have seen that the worthy, modest, and ingenious 
 Mr. Robert Dodsley- had taste enough to perceive its uncommon 
 merit, and thought it creditable to have a share in it. The fact 
 is, that, at a future conference, he bargained for the whole pro- 
 perty of it, for which he gave Johnson ten guineas ; who told 
 me, " I might perhaps have accepted of less ; but that Paul 
 Whitehead had a little before got ten guineas for a poem ; and 
 I would not take less than Paul Whitehead." 
 
 I may here observe, that Johnson appeared to me to un- 
 dervalue Paul Whitehead upon every occasion when he was 
 
 1 [Samuel Derrick, a native of Ireland, was born in 1724. He was 
 apprenticed to a linen-draper, but abandoned that calUng, first, for the stage, 
 where he soon failed, and then for the trade of literature, in which he is 
 forgotten. Johnson had " a great kindness " for him, and he was Boswell's 
 " first tutor in the ways of London." In 1761 he succeeded Beau Nash as 
 master of the ceremonies at Bath, but his extravagance and irregularities 
 always kept him poor. He died in 1769.— CrOKER.] 
 
 ' [Robert Dodsley was born in 1703. He had been a livery servant to 
 Miss Lowthcr, and in 1733 published by subscription a volume of poems 
 entitled The Muse in Livery. He afterwards wrote The Toyshop, The King 
 and the Millc7' of Mattsjield, Cleonc,a Tragedy, The Economy of Humati Life, 
 and other pieces. In 1758 he projected, in concert with Mr. Burke, The 
 Annual Register, and in 1759 he was succeeded in his business as a book- 
 seller by his brother James. R. Dodsley died in 1764. — Croker.]
 
 Age 29.] PUBLISHES '^ LONDON," A POEM. 83 
 
 mentioned, and, in my opinion, did not do him justice ; but 
 when it is considered that Paul Whitehead was a member of 
 a riotous and profane club,^ we may account for Johnson's 
 having a prejudice against him. Paul Whitehead was, indeed, 
 unfortunate in being not only slighted by Johnson, but violently 
 attacked by Churchill, who utters the following imprecation : 
 
 " May I (can worse disgrace on manhood fall ?) 
 Be born a Whitehead, and baptized a Paul ! " 
 
 yet I shall never be persuaded to think meanly of the authour 
 of so brilliant and pointed a satire as " MANNERS." 
 
 Johnson's "London" was published in May, 1738; -and it is 
 remarkable, that it came out on the same morning with Pope's 
 satire, entitled " 1738 ; " so that England had at once its Juvenal 
 and Horace as poetical monitors. The Reverend Dr. Douglas, 
 now Bishop of Salisbury,^ to whom I am indebted for some 
 
 1 " The Monks of Medmenham Abbey.'' 
 
 - Sir John Hawkins, p. 86, tells us, "The event is antedated, in the poem 
 of ' London ; ' but in every particular, except the difference of a year, what is 
 there said of the departure of Thales, must be understood of Savage, and 
 looked upon as true history.'" This conjecture is, I believe, entirely ground- 
 less. I have been assured that Johnson said he was not so much as 
 acquainted with Savage, when he wrote his " London." If the departure men- 
 tioned in it was the departure of Savage, the event was not antedated, but 
 foreseen; for "London'' was published in May, 1738, and Savage did not set 
 out for Wales till July, 1739. However well Johnson could defend the 
 credibility of second sight, he did not pretend that he himself was possessed 
 of that faculty. [Notwithstanding these proofs, the identity of Savage and 
 Thales has been repeated by all the biographers, and has obtained general 
 vogue. It is therefore worth while to add the decisive fact, that if Thales 
 had been Savage, Johnson could never have admitted into his poem two lines 
 that point so forcibly at the drunken fray, in which Savage stabbed a 
 Mr. Sinclair, for which he was convicted of murder : — 
 
 " Some frolic drunkard, reeling from a feast. 
 Provokes a broil, and stabs you in a jest." 
 
 Mr. Murphy endeavours to reconcile the difficulties by supposing that Savage's 
 retirement was in contemplation eighteen months before it was carried into 
 effect : but even if this were true (which is very improbable), it would not 
 alter the facts — that London was written before Johnson knew Savage ; and 
 that one of the severest strokes in the satire touched Savage's sorest point. — 
 Croker.] 
 
 ^ [Dr. John Douglas was a Scotchman by birth, but educated at St. Mary 
 Hall and Balliol College, Oxford (M.A. 1743, D.D. 1758), and owed his first 
 promotions to Lord Bath (to whose son he had been tutor), and his literary 
 
 G 2
 
 84 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHXSON. [1738. 
 
 obliging communications, was then a student at Oxford, and re- 
 members well the effect which " London " produced. Every body 
 was delighted with it ; and there being no name to it, the first 
 buz of the literary circles was, " here is an unknown poet, greater 
 even than Pope." And it is recorded in the Gentleman's 
 Magazine of that year,^ that it " got to the second edition in the 
 course of a week," 
 
 One of the warmest patrons of this poem on its first appear- 
 ance was General OGLETHORPE,^ whose "strong benevolence of 
 soul " was unabated during the course of a very long life ; though 
 it is painful to think, that he had but too much reason to be- 
 come cold and callous, and discontented with the world, from 
 the neglect which he experienced of his publick and private 
 worth, by those in whose power it was to gratify so gallant a 
 veteran with marks of distinction. This extraordinary person 
 was as remarkable for his learning and taste, as for his other 
 eminent qualities ; and no man was more prompt, active, and 
 generous, in encouraging merit, I have heard Johnson grate- 
 fully acknowledge, in his presence, the kind and effectual 
 support which he gave to his " London," though unacquainted 
 with its authour. 
 
 Pope, who then filled the poetical throne without a rival, it 
 may reasonably be presumed, must have been particularly 
 struck by the sudden appearance of such a poet ; and, to his 
 credit, let it be remembered, that his feelings and conduct on 
 
 reputation to his detection of Lauder. He was made Bishop of Carlisle in 
 1788, and translated to Salisbury in 1 791, in Avhich see he died in 1807. — 
 Croker.] 
 
 ^ Page 269. 
 
 ^ [General Oglethorpe was James, third son of Sir Theophilus Oglethorpe. 
 He was born in 1689, educated at Corpus Christi College, Oxford; was in 
 1710 an ensign in the army ; was in 1714 Captain-Lieutenant of the first 
 troop of the Queen's Life Guards ; succeeded to the family estate at West- 
 brook, near Godalming, and in 1722 entered Parliament as member for 
 Haslemerc. In 1729 he began his career as a reformer of prisons, and 
 became Chairman or a Jail Committee, which exposed and sought to remedy 
 the cruel oppressions to which prisoners then were subject. In pursuance 
 of this beneficent work, Oglethorpe conceived the design of forming in the 
 New World a colony of ruined gentlemen ^\\o had become prisoners for 
 debt in England. A charter was obtained for the colony in 1732, and it was 
 named, from the king, Georgia. In 1745 Oglethorpe was promoted to the 
 rank of Major-General. He died at the age of ninety-six, in 1785.]
 
 Age 29.] ''LONDON'; A POEM. 85 
 
 the occasion were candid and liberal. He requested Mr. 
 Richardson, son of the painter,^ to endeavour to find out who 
 this new authour was. Mr. Richardson, after some inquiry, 
 having informed him that he had discovered only that his name 
 was Johnson, and that he was some obscure man, Pope said, 
 " He will soon be de'terre." ^ We shall presently see, from a 
 note written by Pope, that he was himself afterwards more 
 successful in his inquiries than his friend. 
 
 That in this justly celebrated poem may be found a few 
 rhymes which the critical precision of English prosody at this 
 day would disallow, cannot be denied ; but with this small 
 imperfection, which in the general blaze of its excellence is not 
 perceived, till the mind has subsided into cool attention, it is, 
 undoubtedly, one of the noblest productions in our language, 
 both for sentiment and expression. The nation was then in 
 that ferment against the Court and the Ministry, which some 
 years after ended in the downfall of Sir Robert Walpole ; and 
 as it has been said, that Tories are Whigs when out of place ; 
 and Whigs Tories when in place ; so, as a Whig Administration 
 ruled with what force it could, a Tory Opposition had all the 
 animation and all the eloquence of resistance to power, aided 
 by the common topicks of patriotism, liberty, and independ- 
 ence ! Accordingly, we find in Johnson's " London " the most 
 spirited invectives against tyranny and oppression, the warmest 
 predilection for his own country, and the purest love of virtue ; 
 interspersed with traits of his own particular character and 
 situation^ not omitting his prejudices as a " true-born English- 
 man"^ not only against foreign countries, but against Ireland 
 
 ^ [There were three Richardsons known at this period in the literary 
 world : ist, Jonathan the elder, usually called the Painter, though he was an 
 author as well as a painter; he died in 1745, aged 80; and, Jonathan the 
 younger, who is the person mentioned in the text, who also painted, though 
 not as a profession, and who published several works; he died in 1771, 
 aged TJ ; 3rd, Samuel, the author of the celebrated novels. He was by 
 trade a printer, and had the good sense to continue, during the height of his 
 fame, his attention to his business. He died in 1761, aged 72. — Croker.] 
 
 2 Sir Joshua Reynolds, from the information of the younger Richardson. 
 
 ^ It is, however, remarkable that he uses the epithet, which undoubtedly, 
 since the union between England and Scotland, ought to denominate the 
 natives of both parts of our island. 
 
 " Was early taught a Briton's rights to prize."
 
 86 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [173S. 
 
 and Scotland, On some of these topicks I shall quote a few 
 passages : 
 
 "The cheated nation's happy fav'rites see ; 
 Mark whom the great caress, who frown on me."' 
 
 " Has heaven reserv'd, in pity to the poor, 
 No pathless waste, or undiscover'd shore ? 
 No secret island in the boundless main ? 
 No peaceful desart yet unclaim'd by Spain ? 
 Quick let us rise, the happy seats explore, 
 And bear Oppression's insolence no more.' 
 
 " How, when competitors like these contend. 
 Can surly Virtue hope to find a friend ? " 
 
 "This mournful truth is every where confess'd. 
 Slow rises worth, by poverty depress'd ! " 
 
 We may easily conceive with what feeling a great mind like 
 his, cramped and galled by narrow circumstances, uttered this 
 last line, which he marked by capitals. The whole of the poem 
 is eminently excellent, and there are in it such proofs of a 
 knowledge of the world, and of a mature acquaintance with 
 life, as cannot be contemplated without wonder, when we 
 consider that he was then only in his twenty-ninth year, and 
 had yet been so little in the " busy haunts of men." 
 
 Yet, while we admire the poetical excellence of this poem, 
 candour obliges us to allow, that the flame of patriotism and 
 zeal for popular resistance with which it is fraught, had no just 
 cause. There was, in truth, no "oppression ; " the "nation" was 
 not "cheated." Sir Robert Walpole was a wise and a bene- 
 volent minister, who thought that the happiness and prosperity 
 of a commercial country like ours, would be best promoted by 
 peace, which he accordingly maintained with credit, during a 
 very long period. Johnson himself afterwards honestly acknow- 
 ledged the merit of Walpole, whom he called " a fixed star ; " 
 while he characterised his opponent, Pitt, as a " meteor." 
 But Johnson's juvenile poem was naturally impregnated with 
 the fire of opposition, and upon every account was universally 
 admired. 
 
 Though thus elevated into faine, and conscious of uncommon 
 powers, he had not that bustling confidence, or, I may rather 
 say, that animated ambition, which one might have supposed
 
 Age 29-] ''LONDON'' A POEM. 87 
 
 would have urged him to endeavour at rising in hfe. But such 
 was his inflexible dignity of character, that he could not stoop 
 to court the great ; without which, hardly any nnan has made 
 his way to a high station. He could not expect to produce 
 many such works as his " LONDON," and he felt the hardships 
 of writing for bread ; he was therefore willing to resume the 
 office of a schoolmaster, so as to have a sure, though moderate 
 income for his life ; and an offer being made to him of the 
 mastership of a school,^ provided he could obtain the degree of 
 
 1 In a billet written by Mr. Pope in the following year, this school is said 
 to have been in Shropshire j but as it appears from a letter from Earl Gower, 
 that the trustees of it were "some worthy gentlemen in Johnson's neighbour- 
 hood," I in my first edition suggested that Pope must have, by mistake, 
 written Shropshire instead of Staffordshire. But I have since been obliged 
 to Mr. Spearing, attorney-at-law, for the following information : — " William 
 Adams, formerly citizen and haberdasher of London, founded a school at 
 Newport, in the county of Salop, by deed dated 27th November, 1656, by 
 which he granted the ' yearly sum of sixty pounds to such able and learned 
 schoolmaster, from time to time, being of godly life and conversation, who 
 should have been educated at one of the Universities of O.vford or Cam- 
 bridge, and had taken the degree of Master of Arts, and was well read in 
 the Greek and Latin tongues, as should be nominated from time to time by 
 the said William Adams, during his life, and after the decease of the said 
 William Adams, by the governours (namely, the Master and Wardens of the 
 Haberdashers' Company of the City of London) and their successors.' The 
 manour and lands out of which the revenues for the maintenance of the 
 school were to issue, are situate at Knighton and Adbaston, in the County 
 of Siaffordy From the foregoing account of this foundation, particularly the 
 circumstances of the salary being sixty pounds, and the degree of ^Master of 
 Arts being a requisite qualification in the teacher, it seemed probable that 
 this Avas the school in contemplation ; and that Lord Gower erroneously sup- 
 posed that the gentlemen who possessed the lands, out of which the revenues 
 issued, were trustees of the charity. [To this note in Boswell's second 
 edition, there was added in the third : — ] 
 
 Such was probable conjecture. But in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for 
 May, 1793, there is a letter from Mr. Henn, one of the masters of the school 
 of Appleby, in Leicestershire, in which he writes as follows : 
 
 " I compared time and circumstance together, in order to discover 
 whether the school in question might not be this of Appleby. Some of the 
 trustees at that period were ' worthy gentlemen of the neighbourhood of 
 Lichfield.' Appleby itself is not far from the neighbourhood of Lichfield: 
 the salary, the degree requisite, together with the time of election, all agreeing 
 with the statutes of Appleby. The election, as said in the letter, ' could not 
 be delayed longer than the nth of next month,' which was the nth of Sep- 
 tember, just three months after the annual audit-day of Appleby school, 
 which is always on the nth of June; and the statutes enjoin Jie uUius 
 prcEceptoriim e lectio din tins trilnis niensibits moraretnr, &^c. 
 
 "These I thought to be convincing proofs that my conjecture was not ill-
 
 88 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1738-39. 
 
 Master of Arts, Dr. Adams was applied to, by a common friend, 
 to know whether that could be granted him as a favour from 
 the University of Oxford. But though he had made such a 
 figure in the literary world, it was then thought too great a 
 favour to be asked. 
 
 Pope, without any knowledge of him but from his " London," 
 recommended him to Earl Gower, who endeavoured to procure 
 for him a degree from Dublin, by the following letter to a 
 friend of Dean Swift : 
 
 "SIR, 
 
 "Mr. Samuel Johnson (author of London, a satire, 
 and some other poetical pieces) is a native of this country, and 
 much respected by some worthy gentlemen in his neighbour- 
 hood, who are trustees of a chanty-school now vacant ; the 
 certain salary is sixty pounds a year, of which they are desirous 
 to make him master ; but, unfortunately, he is not capable of 
 receiving their bounty, which zaould make Jiini happy for life, 
 not being a Master of Arts; which, by the statutes of this school, 
 the master of it must be. 
 
 " Now these gentlemen do me the honour to think that I have 
 interest enough in you, to prevail upon you to write to Dean 
 Swift, to persuade the University of Dublin to send a diploma 
 to me, constituting this poor man Master of Arts in their 
 University. They highly extol the man's learning and probity ; 
 and will not be persuaded that the University will make any 
 difficulty of conferring such a favour upon a stranger, if he is 
 recommended by the Dean. They say, he is not afraid of the 
 strictest examination, though he is of so long a journey ; and 
 will venture it, if the Dean thinks it necessary ; choosing rather 
 to die upon the road, tlian be starved to death in translating for 
 booksellers, which has been his only subsistence for some 
 time past, 
 
 " I fear there is more difficulty in this aff'air, than those good- 
 natured gentlemen apprehend ; especially as their election can- 
 not be delayed longer than the nth of next month. If you see 
 
 founded, and that, in a future edition of that book, the circumstance might 
 be recorded as fact. 
 
 " But what banishes every shadow of doubt is the Minute-book of the 
 school, which declares the head-mastership to be at that time VACANT." 
 
 I cannot omit returning thanks to this learned gentleman for the very 
 handsome manner in which he has in that letter been so good as to speak of 
 this work.
 
 Age 29-30.] THE LOST CHANCE OF A SCHOOL. S9 
 
 this matter in the same Hght that it appears to me, I hope you 
 will burn this, and pardon me for giving you so much trouble 
 about an impracticable thing ; but, if you think there is a 
 probability of obtaining the favour asked, I am sure your 
 humanity, and propensity to relieve merit in distress, will incline 
 you to serve the poor man, without my adding any more to the 
 trouble I have already given you, than assuring you that I am, 
 with great truth, Sir, 
 
 " Your faithful servant, 
 
 " GOWER.^ 
 Trentham, Aug. i, 1739." 
 
 It was, perhaps, no small disappointment to Johnson that 
 this respectable application had not the desired effect ; yet how 
 much reason has there been, both for himself and his country, to 
 rejoice that it did not succeed, as he might probably have wasted 
 in obscurity those hou^s in which he afterwards produced his 
 incomparable works. 
 
 About this time he made one other effort to emancipate 
 himself from the drudgery of authorship. He applied to Dr. 
 Adams, to consult Dr. Smalbroke^ of the Commons, whether a 
 
 ^ [At this time only Lord Gower. It seems not easy to reconcile Lord 
 Gower's and Pope's letters, and Mr. Boswell's account of this transaction. 
 Lord Gower' s letter says that it is written at the request of some Stafford- 
 shire neighbours. Nothing more natural. He does not even allude to 
 Pope ; and certainly it would have been most extraordinary that Pope, the 
 dearest friend of Swift, should sohcit Lord Gower to ask a favour of the 
 Dean. The more natural supposition would be, that Lord Gower's 
 letter was addressed to Pope himself ; but Pope says that he wrote un- 
 sohcited to Lord Gower in Johnson's favour for a school in Shropshire ; 
 but did not succeed. He makes no allusion to Swift, or the Master's degree. 
 Lord Gower's letter was first published with the date of 1737, then with that 
 of 1738, and, finally, as of 1739. The first of these dates is clearly wrong; 
 the latter, I suppose, has been assigned from that of Pope's note, which must 
 have been subsequent to May, 1739; but that note does not say how long 
 before it was written the application to Lord Gower had been made. In 
 short, I cannot reconcile these discrepancies, but by the unsatisfactory con- 
 jecture that Pope had applied in the first instance to Lord Gower ; that Lord 
 Gower was willing to assist Johnson, but was met by the difficulty about the 
 degree of A.M. ; and that then it was arranged that his Lordship should write 
 to Pope such a letter as he could transmit to Swift. The matter is in itself 
 of no importance, except as it might explain Johnson's strong dislike both of 
 Lord Gower and Dean Swift ; which may have arisen from somie misappre- 
 hension of their share in this disappointment. — Croker.] 
 
 2 [Richard Smalbroke, LL.D., second son of Bishop Smalbroke whose 
 family were long connected with Lichfield, died the senior member of the 
 College of Advocates. — Croker.]
 
 90 BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1738. 
 
 person might be permitted to practise as an advocate there, 
 without a doctor's degree in Civil Law. " I am (said he) a total 
 stranger to these studies ; but whatever is a profession, and 
 maintains numbers, must be within the reach of common 
 abiHties, and some degree of industry." Dr. Adams was mucli 
 pleased with Johnson's design to employ his talents in that 
 manner, being confident he would have attained to great emin- 
 ence. And, indeed, I cannot conceive a man better qualified 
 to make a distinguished figure as a lawyer ; for, he would have 
 brought to his profession a rich store of various knowledge, an 
 uncommon acuteness, and a command of language, in which 
 few could have equalled, and none have surpassed him. He 
 who could display eloquence and wit in defence of the decision 
 of the House of Commons upon Mr. Wilkes's election for 
 Middlesex, and of the unconstitutional taxation of our fellow- 
 subjects in America, must have been a powerful advocate 
 in any cause. But here, also, the want of a degree was an 
 insurmountable bar. 
 
 He was, therefore, under the necessity of persevering in that 
 course into which he had been forced ; and we find, that his 
 proposal from Greenwich to Mr. Cave, for a translation of 
 Father Paul Sarpi's History was accepted.^ 
 
 Some sheets of this translation were printed off, but the design 
 was dropt ; for it happened, oddly enough, that another person 
 
 1 In the Weekly Miscellany, October 21, 1738, there appeared the following 
 advertisement : "Just published, proposals for printing- the History of the 
 Council of Trent, translated from the Italian of Father Paul Sarpi ; with the 
 Authour's life, and Notes theological, historical, and critical, from the 
 French edition of Dr. Le Courayer. To which arc added, Observations on 
 the History, and Notes and Illustrations from various Authours, both printed 
 and manuscript. By S. Johnson, i. The work will consist of two hundred 
 sheets, and be two volumes in quarto, printed on good paper and letter. 2. 
 The price will be iSs. each volume, to be paid, half a guinea at the delivery 
 of the first volume, and the rest at the delivery of the second volume in sheets. 
 3. Two-pence to be abated for every sheet less than two hundred. It may 
 be had on a large paper, in three volumes, at the price of three guineas ; one 
 to be paid at the time of subscribing, another at the delivery of the first, and 
 the rest at the delivery of tlie other volumes. The work is now tn the press, 
 and will be diligently prosecuted. Subscriptions are taken in by Mr. Dodslcy 
 in Pail-Mall, Mr. Rivington in St. Paul's Church-yard, by E. Cave at 
 St. John's Gate, and the Translator, at No. 6, in Castle-street, by Cavendish- 
 square,"
 
 Age 29.] WORKING FOR CAVE. 91 
 
 of the name of Samuel Johnson, Librarian of St. Martin's in 
 the Fields, and Curate of that parish, engaged in the same 
 undertaking, and was patronised by the Clergy, particularly by 
 Dr. Pearce, afterwards Bishop of Rochester, Several light 
 skirmishes passed between the rival translators, in the news- 
 papers of the day; and the consequence was that they destroyed 
 each other, for neither of them went on with the work. It is 
 much to be regretted that the able performance of that cele- 
 brated genius, Fra Paolo, lost the advantage of being 
 incorporated into British literature by the masterly hand of 
 Johnson. 
 
 I have in my possession, by the favour of Mr. John Nichols, a 
 paper in Johnson's hand-writing, entitled " Account between 
 Mr. Edward Cave and Sam. Johnson, in relation to a version of 
 Father Paul, &c. begun August the 2d, 1738;" by which it 
 appears, that from that day to the 21st of April, 1739, Johnson 
 received for this work 49/. js. in sums of one, two, three, and 
 sometimes four guineas at a time, most frequently two. And 
 it is curious to observe the minute and scrupulous accuracy, with 
 which Johnson had pasted upon it a slip of paper, which he has 
 entitled " Small account," and which contains one article : 
 " Sept. 9th, Mr. Cave laid down 2s. 6d." There is subjoined to 
 this account, a list of some subscribers to the work, partly in 
 Johnson's hand-writing, partly in that of another person ; and 
 there follows a leaf or two on which are written a number of 
 characters which have the appearance of a short hand, which, 
 perhaps, Johnson was then trying to learn. 
 
 " TO MR. CAVE. 
 
 " Wednesday 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " I DID not care to detain your servant while I wrote an 
 answer to your letter, in which you seem to insinuate that I had 
 promised more than I am ready to perform. If I have raised 
 your expectations by any thing that may have escaped my 
 memory, I am sorry ; and if you remind me of it, shall thank 
 you for the favour. If I made fewer alterations than usual in 
 the Debates, it was only because there appeared, and still 
 appears to be, less need of alteration. The verses to Lady
 
 92 
 
 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON 
 
 [1738. 
 
 Fircbrace ^ may be had when you please, for you know that 
 such a subject neither deserves much thought, nor requires it. 
 
 " The Chinese Stories - may be had folded down when you 
 please to send, in which I do not recollect that you desired any 
 alterations to be made. 
 
 " An answer to another query I am very willing to write, 
 and had consulted with you about it last night, if there had 
 been time ; for I think it the most proper way of inviting such 
 a correspondence as may be an advantage to the paper, not 
 a load upon it. 
 
 " As to the Prize Verses, a backwardness to determine their 
 degrees of merit is not peculiar to me. You may, if you 
 please, still have what I can say ; but I shall engage with 
 little spirit in an affair, which I shall Jiardly end to my own 
 satisfaction, and certainly not to the satisfaction of the parties 
 concerned.^ 
 
 "As to Father Paul, I have not yet been just to my proposal, 
 but have met with impediments, which, I hope, are now at an 
 end ; and if you find the progress hereafter not such as you 
 have a right to expect, you can easily stimulate a negligent 
 translator. 
 
 " If any or all of these have contributed to your discontent, 
 I will endeavour to remove it ; and desire you to propose the 
 question to which you wish for an answer. 
 
 " I am, Sir, your humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "TO MR. CAVE. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 {^No dateJ] 
 
 " I AM pretty much of your opinion, that the Commentary 
 cannot be prosecuted with any appearance of success ; for as 
 the names of the authors concerned are of more weight in 
 the performance than its own intrinsick merit, the publick 
 will be soon satisfied with it. And I think the Examen should 
 be pushed forward with the utmost expedition. Thus, This 
 day, &c. An Examen of Mr. Pope's Essay, &c., containing 
 
 1 They afterwards appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine with this title 
 — "Verses to Lady Firebrace, at Bury Assizes." 
 
 2 [Uu Halde's Description of China was then publishing by Mr. Cave in 
 ■weekly numbers, whence Johnson was to select pieces for the embellishment 
 of the Magazine. — N ICHOLS.] 
 
 3 [The premium of forty pounds proposed for the best poem on the Divine 
 Attributes is here alluded to. — Nichols.]
 
 Age 29.] WORKING FOR CA VE. 93 
 
 a succinct Account of the Philosophy of Mr. Leibnitz on the 
 System of the Fatahsts, with a Confutation of their Opinions, 
 and an Illustration of the Doctrine of Free-will ; (with what 
 else you think proper.) 
 
 " It will, above all, be necessary to take notice, that it is a 
 thing distinct from the Commentary. 
 
 " I was so far from imagining they stood still,^ that I con- 
 ceived them to have a good deal before-hand, and therefore 
 was less anxious in providing them more. But if ever they 
 stand still on my account, it must doubtless be charged to me ; 
 and whatever else shall be reasonable, I shall not oppose ; 
 but beg a suspense of judgment till morning, when I must 
 entreat you to send me a dozen proposals, and you shall then 
 have copy to spare. 
 
 " I am, Sir, yours, hnpransiis, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " Pray muster up cne Proposals if you can, or let the boy 
 recall them from the booksellers." 
 
 But although he corresponded with Mr. Cave concerning a 
 translation of Crousaz's Examen of Pope's Essay on Man, 
 and gave advice as one anxious for its success, I was long 
 ago convinced by a perusal of the Preface that this translation 
 was erroneously ascribed to him ; and I have found this point 
 ascertained beyond all doubt, by the following article in Dr. 
 Birch's Manuscripts in the British Museum. 
 
 "ELiSiE Carters, S. P. D. Thomas Birch. 
 
 " Versionem tumn Examinis Crojisaziani jam perlegi. Sunimam styli 
 et elega7itiani, et in re difficillimd proprietatem, admiratus. 
 
 '' Dabam Novemb. 27°, 1738." 2 
 
 Indeed Mrs. Carter has lateiy acknowledged to Mr. Seward 
 that she was the translator of the " Examen." 
 
 ^ [The Compositors in Mr. Cave's printing-office, who appear by this letter 
 to have then waited for copy. — Nichols.] 
 
 ■- Birch MSS. Brit. Mus. 4323. [See Mrs. Carter's Life by the Rev. 
 Montague Pennington, oct. edit. pp. 42-46 — Chaoiers.] 
 
 [There is no doubt that Miss Carter was the translator of the Examen, 
 but Johnson seems to have been busy with another work of the same author 
 on the same subject — " a distinct thing," as he calls it — viz. Crousaz's
 
 94 
 
 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1738-39- 
 
 It is remarkable, that Johnson's last quoted letter to Mr. Cave 
 concludes with a fair confession that he had not a dinner; and 
 it is no less remarkable, that though in this state of want 
 himself, his benevolent heart was not insensible to the necessi- 
 ties of an humble labourer in literature, as appears from the 
 very next letter ; 
 
 "TO T^IR. CAVE. 
 
 \No dateJ] 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " You may remember I have formerly talked with you 
 about a Military Dictionary. The eldest Mr. Macbean, who 
 was with Mr. Chambers, has very good materials for such a 
 work, which I have seen, and will do it at a very low rate.^ 
 I think the terms of War and Navigation might be comprised, 
 with good explanations^ in one 8vo. Pica, which he is willing to 
 do for twelve shillings a sheet, to be made up to a guinea at the 
 second impression. If you think on it, I will wait on you 
 with him. 
 
 " I am, Sir, your humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 " Pray lend me Topsel on Animals." 
 
 I must not omit to mention, that this Mr. Macbean was a 
 native of Scotland. 
 
 In the Gentleman's Magazine of this year, Johnson gave a 
 Life of Father Paul ; * and he wrote the Preface to the Volume,i- 
 which, though prefixed to it when bound, is always published 
 with the Appendix, and is therefore the last composition 
 belonging to it. The ability and nice adaptation with which 
 he could draw up a prefatory address, was one of his peculiar 
 excellences. 
 
 It appears too, that he paid a friendly attention to Mrs. 
 Elizabeth Carter ; for in a letter from Mr. Cave to Dr. Birch, 
 November 28th, this year, I find " Mr. Johnson advises Miss C. 
 to undertake a translation of BoetJiius de Cons, because there 
 is prose and verse, and to put her name to it when published." 
 
 Comnientary on the Abbe Resnel's translation of the Essay on Man ; an 
 anonymous translation of which was published in 1741, and quoted in 
 the GentLman' s Magazine {qx 1743. — Croker.] 
 ^ This book was published.
 
 Age 29-30.] IVORKIXG FOR CA VE. 95 
 
 This advice was not followed ; probably from an apprehension 
 that the work was not sufficiently popular for an extensive sale. 
 How well Johnson himself could have executed a translation of 
 this philosophic poet, we may judge from the following specimen 
 which he has given in the Rambler : {Motto to No. 7.) 
 
 " O qui perpetua miindum ratioiie gubernas, 
 
 Tcrrarum cccliqiie sator / 
 
 Disjice icrj-encE nebulas et poiidera tnolis, 
 At que tuo splendor e mica ! Tu nanique sereman, 
 Tu reqtties tr-a}iquilla pi is. Te cernere finis, 
 Principium, vector, dux, sanita, terminus, idejii." 
 
 ' O THOU whose power o'er moving worlds presides, 
 Whose voice created, and whose wisdom guides, 
 On darkling man in pure effulgence shine, 
 And cheer the clouded mind with light divine. 
 'Tis thine alone to calm the pious breast, 
 With silent confidence and holy rest ; 
 From thee, great God ! we spring, to thee we tend, 
 Path, motive, guide, original, and end !" 
 
 In 1739, beside the assistance which he gave to the Parlia- 
 mentary Debates, his writings in the Gentleman's Magazine 
 were, "The life of Boerhaave," * in which it is to be observed, 
 that he discovers that love of chymistry which never forsook 
 him; "An Appeal to the Publick, in behalf of the Editor ;"-|- 
 " An Address to the Reader ; " "j" " An Epigram both in Greek 
 and Latin to Eliza ;"*^ and also English verses to her;* 
 
 1 [Mr. Boswell here confounds the years 1738 and 1739. The Greek and 
 Latin epigram to Eliza (Miss Carter) were in the Magazine for April, 1738 ; 
 and another in July to the same lady, on gathering laurels in Pope's garden, 
 is no doubt his. 
 
 " Elysios Popi dum ludit Iteta per hortos. 
 En avida lauros carpit Elisa manu, 
 Nil opus est furto. Lauros tibi, dulcis Elisa, 
 Si neget optatas Popus, Apollo dabit.'' 
 
 " In Pope's Elysian scenes Eliza roves. 
 And spoils with greedy hands his laurel groves ; 
 A needless theft — a laurel wreath to thee 
 Should Pope deny, Apollo would decree." — C. 
 
 Johnson may have accompanied his young friend to Twickenham, and 
 witnessed the incident. The same year's Magazine also contains the
 
 96 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1739. 
 
 and "A Greek Epigram to Dr. Birch."* It has been erro- 
 neously swpposed, that an Essay, pubh'shed in that Magazine 
 this year, entitled " The Apotheosis of Milton," was written by 
 Johnson ; and on that supposition it has been improperly in- 
 serted in the edition of his works by the Booksellers, after his 
 decease. Were there no positive testimony as to this point, the 
 style of the performance, and the name of Shakspeare not being 
 mentioned in an Essay professedly reviewing the principal 
 English poets, would ascertain it not to be the production of 
 Johnson. But there is here no occasion to resort to internal 
 evidence ; for my Lord Bishop of Salisbury (Dr. Douglas) has 
 assured me that it was written by Guthrie. His separate 
 publications were, " A Complete Vindication of the Licensers 
 of the Stage, from the malicious and scandalous Aspersions of 
 Mr. Brooke,^ Authour of Gustavus Vasa," * being an ironical 
 Attack upon them for their Suppression of that Tragedy ; and, 
 " Marmor Norfolciense ; or an Essay on an ancient prophetical 
 Inscription, in monkish Rhyme, lately discovered near Lynne, 
 
 celebrated Latin epigram " To a Lady (Miss Maria Ashton) who spoke in 
 Defence of Liberty," the neatest of Johnson's couplets — 
 
 " Liber ut esse velim suasisti pulcra Maria. 
 Ut maneam liber, pulcra Maria vale ! " 
 
 " You wish me, fair Maria, to be free ; 
 Then, fair Maria, I must fly from thee." — C 
 
 and a Greek epigram to " Dr. Birch." I can find in the Magazine for 1739 
 but one copy of English verses to Eliza. They are in December, and 
 signed Amasius, a signature used by Dr. Swan, the translator of Sydenham, 
 and by Collins upon one occasion in the same magazine. — Croker.] 
 
 ^ [Henry Brooke, the author of the celebrated novel of The Fool of Quality, 
 was a native of Ireland. In 1738, his tragedy of Gustavus Vasa was 
 rehearsed at Drury Lane ; but, it being supposed to satirise Sir Robert 
 Walpole, an order came from the Lord Chamberlain to prohibit its appear- 
 ance. This, however, did Brooke no injury, as he was encouraged to 
 publish the play by a subscription, which amounted to 800/. He died in 
 1783. — Croker.] [Licensing of plays had its origin in the desire to prevent 
 Henry Fielding from using his wit against political corruption. Plelding 
 having been silenced as a dramatist by the Bill introduced in 1737, requiring 
 that every dramatic piece should obtain the license of the Lord Chamberlain 
 before it was represented, the Lord Chamberlain distinguished himself in 
 1739 by prohibiting the Edward and Eleatiore of James Thomson, the 
 author of the Seasons, as well as the play here referred to as Gtistavus Vasa. 
 In 1884 this function of the Lord Chamberlain, discreditable in its origin, still 
 contributes to the degradation of the English stage.]
 
 AGE30.] ''M ARMOR NORFOLCIENSE." 97 
 
 in Norfolk, by ProbuS Britannicus." * In this performance 
 he, in a feigned inscription, supposed to have been found in 
 Norfolk, the county of Sir Robert Walpole, then the obnoxious 
 prime minister of this country, inveighs against the Brunswick 
 succession, and the measures of government consequent upon 
 it.^ To this supposed prophecy he added a Commentary, 
 making each expression apply to the times, with warm Anti- 
 Hanoverian zeal. 
 
 This anonymous pamphlet, I believe, did not make so much 
 noise as was expected, and, therefore, had not a very extensive 
 circulation. Sir John Hawkins relates, that " warrants were 
 issued, and messengers employed to apprehend the authour ; 
 who, though he had forborne to subscribe his name to the 
 pamphlet, the vigilance of those in pursuit of him had dis- 
 covered ; " and we are informed, that he lay concealed in 
 Lambeth-marsh till the scent after him grew cold. This, how- 
 ever, is altogether without foundation, for Mr. Steele, one of the 
 Secretaries of the Treasury, who amidst a variety of important 
 business, politely obliged me with his attention to my inquiry, 
 informed me, that " he directed every possible search to be made 
 in the records of the Treasury and Secretary of State's Office, 
 but could find no trace whatever of any warrant having been 
 issued to apprehend the authour of this pamphlet." 
 
 " Marmor Norfolciense " became exceedingly scarce, so that 
 I for many years indeavoured in vain to procure a copy of it. 
 At last I was indebted to the malice of one of Johnson's 
 numerous petty adversaries, who, in 1775, published a new 
 edition of it, " with Notes and a Dedication to Samuel Johnson, 
 LL.D., by Tribunus ; " in which some puny scribbler in- 
 vidiously attempted to found upon it a charge of inconsistency 
 against its authour, because he had accepted of a pension from 
 his present Majesty, and had written in support of the measures 
 of government. As a mortification to such impotent malice, of 
 which there are so many instances towards men of eminence, 
 I am happy to relate, that this ieliiui inibdlc did not reach 
 
 1 The Inscription and the Translation of it are preserved in the London 
 Magazine for the year 1739, P- 244. 
 
 VOL. L H
 
 qS BOSWELUS life of JOHNSON. [1739. 
 
 its exalted object till about a year after it thus appeared, 
 when I mentioned it to him, supposing' that he knew of the 
 re-publication. To my surprise he had not yet heard of it. 
 He requested me to go directly and get it for him, which I did. 
 He looked at it and laughed, and seemed to be much diverted 
 with the feeble efforts of his unknown adversary, who, I hope, 
 is alive to read this account. " Now (said he) here is some- 
 body who thinks he has vexed me sadly : yet if it had not been 
 for you, you rogue, I should probably never have seen it." 
 
 As Mr. Pope's note concerning Johnson, alluded to in a 
 former page, refers both to his " London," and his " Marmor 
 Norfolciense," I have deferred inserting it till now. I am 
 indebted for it to Dr. Percy, the Bishop of Dromore, who 
 permitted me to copy it from the original in his possession. 
 It was presented to his Lordship by Sir Joshua Reynolds, to 
 whom it w'as given by the son of Mr. Richardson the painter, 
 the person to whom it is addressed. I have transcribed it with 
 minute exactness, that the peculiar mode of writing, and im- 
 perfect spelling of that celebrated poet, may be exhibited to 
 the curious in literature. It justifies Swift's epithet of "paper- 
 sparing Pope," for it is written on a slip no larger than a 
 common message-card, and was sent to Mr. Richardson, along 
 with the imitation of Juvenal. 
 
 " This is imitated by one Johnson who put in for a Publick- 
 school in Shropshire,^ but was disappointed. He has an 
 infirmity of the convulsive kind, that attacks him sometimes 
 so as to make Him a sad Spectacle. Mr. P. from the Merit of 
 This Work which was all the knowledge he had of Him, 
 endeavoured to serve Him without his ov/n application ; & 
 wrote to my \J^ gore, but he did not succeed. Mr. Johnson 
 published aftervv*^^ another Poem in Latin with Notes the w^hole 
 very Humerous call'd the Norfolk Prophecy. 
 
 " P." 
 
 Johnson had been told of this note ; and Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 informed him of the compliment which it contained, but, from 
 delicacy, avoided shewing him the paper itself. When Sir 
 
 ^ See note, p. 87.
 
 Age 30.] HIS CONVULSIVE TWITCHES. 99 
 
 Joshua observed to Johnson that he seemed very desirous to 
 see Pope's note, he answered, " Who would not be proud to 
 have such a man as Pope so soHcitous in inquiring about him ? " 
 The infirmity to which Mr. Pope alludes, appeared to me 
 also, as I have elsewhere^ observed, to be of the convulsive 
 kind, and of the nature of that distemper called St. Vitus's 
 dance ; and in this opinion I am confirmed by the description 
 which Sydenham gives of that disease, " This disorder is a 
 kind of convulsion. It manifests itself by halting or unsteadi- 
 ness of one of the legs, which the patient draws after him like 
 an ideot. If the hand of the same side be applied to the 
 breast, or any other part of the body, he cannot keep it a 
 moment in the same posture, but it will be drawn into a 
 different one by a convulsion, notwithstanding all his efforts 
 to the contrary." Sir Joshua Reynolds, however, was of a 
 different opinion, and favoured me with the following paper. 
 
 "Those motions or tricks of Dr. Johnson are improperly 
 called convulsions. He could sit motionless when he was told 
 so to do, as well as any other man. My opinion is, that it 
 proceeded from a habit ^ which he had indulged himself in, of 
 accompanying his thoughts with certain untoward actions, and 
 those actions always appeared to me as if they were meant to 
 reprobate some part of his past conduct. Whenever he was 
 not engaged in conversation, such thoughts were sure to rush 
 into his mind ; and, for this reason, any company, any employ- 
 ment whatever, he preferred to being alone. The great business 
 of his life (he said) was to escape from himself ; this disposition 
 he considered as the disease of his mind, which nothing cured 
 but company. 
 
 *' One instance of his absence of mind and particularity, as it 
 is characteristick of the man, may be worth relating. When 
 he and I took a journey together into the West, we visited the 
 late Mr. Banks, of Dorsetshire; the conversation turning upon 
 pictures, which Johnson could not well see, he retired to a 
 corner of the room, stretching out his right leg as far as he 
 
 1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit. p. 8. 
 
 - [Sir Joshua Reynolds's notion on this subject is confirmed by what 
 Johnson himself said to a young lady, the niece of his friend Christopher 
 .Smart. See a note by Mr. Boswell on some particulars communicated by 
 Reynolds, under March 30, 1783. — Malone.] 
 
 H 2
 
 loo BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON [1739-40. 
 
 could reach before him, then bringing up his left leg, and 
 stretching his right still further on. The old gentleman observ- 
 ing him, went up to him, and in a very courteous manner 
 assured him, though it was not a new house, the flooring was 
 perfectly safe. The Doctor started from his reverie, like a 
 person waked out of his sleep, but spoke not a word." 
 
 While we are on this subject, my readers may not be dis- 
 pleased with another anecdote, communicated to me by the 
 same friend, from the relation of Mr. Hogarth. 
 
 Johnson used to be a pretty frequent visitor at the house 
 of Mr. Richardson, authour of Clarissa, and other novels of 
 extensive reputation. Mr. Hogarth came one day to see 
 Richardson, soon after the execution of Dr. Cameron, for 
 having taken arms for the house of Stuart in 1745-6; and 
 being a warm partisan of George the Second, he observed to 
 Richardson, that certainly there must have been some very 
 unfavourable circumstances lately discovered in this particular 
 case, which had induced the King to approve of an execution 
 for rebellion so long after the time when it was committed, as 
 this had the appearance of putting a man to death in cold 
 blood,^ and was very unlike his Majesty's usual clemency. 
 While he was talking, he perceived a person standing at a 
 window in the room, shaking his head, and rolling himself about 
 in a strange ridiculous manner. He concluded that he was an 
 ideot, whom his relations had put under the care of Mr. 
 Richardson, as a very good man. To his great surprize, 
 however, this figure stalked forwards to where he and Mr. 
 
 1 Impartial posterity may, perhaps, be as little inclined as Dr. Johnson 
 was, to justify the uncommon rigour exercised in the case of Dr. Archibald 
 Cameron. He was an amiable and truly honest man ; and his offence was 
 owing to a generous, though mistaken principle of duty. Being obliged, after 
 1746, to give up his profession as a physician, and to go into foreign parts, 
 he was honoured with the ran'c of Colonel, both in the French and Spanish 
 service. He was a son of the ancient and respectable family of Cameron of 
 Lochiel ; and his brother who was the Chief of that brave clan, distinguished 
 himself by moderation and humanity, while the Highland army marched 
 victorious'through Scotland. It is remarkable of this Chief, that though he 
 'had earnestly remonstrated against the attempt as hopeless, he was of too 
 heroick a spirit not to venture his life and fortune in the cause, when person- 
 ally asked by him whom he thought his Prince.
 
 AGE30-31-] WORKING FOR CAVE. loi 
 
 Richardson were sitting, and all at once took up the argument, 
 and burst out into an invective against George the Second, as 
 one, who, upon all occasions, was unrelenting and barbarous ; 
 mentioning many instances, particularly, that when an officer 
 of high rank had been acquitted by a Court Martial, George 
 the Second had with his own hand struck his name off the 
 list. In short, he displayed such a power of eloquence, that 
 Hogarth looked at him with astonishment, and actually 
 imagined that this ideot had been at the moment inspired. 
 Neither Hogarth nor Johnson were made known to each 
 other at this interview. 
 
 In 1740 he wrote for the Gentleman's Magazine the 
 " Preface," t "the Life of Admiral Blake,"* and the first 
 parts of those of " Sir Francis Drake," * and " Philip 
 Barretier," * ^ both which he finished the following year. He 
 also wrote an " Essay on Epitaphs," * and an " Epitaph on 
 Philips, a Musician," * which was afterwards published with 
 some other pieces of his, in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. 
 This Epitaph is so exquisitely beautiful, that I remember 
 even Lord Karnes, strangely prejudiced as he was against 
 Dr. Johnson, was compelled to allow it very high praise. It 
 has been ascribed to Mr. Garrick, from its appearing at first 
 with the signature G. ; but I have heard Mr. Garrick declare, 
 that it was written by Dr. Johnson, and give the following 
 account of the manner in which it was composed. Johnson 
 and he were sitting together; when, amongst other things, 
 Garrick repeated an Epitaph upon this Philips, by a Dr. 
 Wilkes, in these words : 
 
 " Exalted soul ! whose harmony could please 
 The love-sick virgin, and the gouty ease : 
 Could jarring discord, like Amphion, move 
 To beauteous order and harmonious love ; 
 Rest here in peace, till angels bid thee rise, 
 And meet thy blessed Saviour in the skies." 
 
 Johnson shook his head at these common-place funeral lines, 
 and said to Garrick, " I think, Davy, I can make a better." 
 
 ^ [To which in 1742 he made very large additions, which have been in- 
 corporated in the edition of Barretier' s Life, in the Biographical Dictionary. 
 — Chalmers.]
 
 I02 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1740-41. 
 
 Then stirring about his tea for a httle while, in a state of 
 
 meditation, he almost extempore produced the following 
 
 verses ; 
 
 "Philips, whose touch harmonious could remove 
 The pangs of guilty power or hapless love ; 
 Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more, 
 Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before ; 
 Sleep, undisturb'd, within this peaceful shrine, 
 Till angels wake thee with a note like thine ! " ^ 
 
 At the same time that Mr. Garrick favoured me with this 
 anecdote, he repeated a very pointed Epigram by Johnson, on 
 George the Second and Colley Gibber, which has never yet 
 appeared, and of which I know not the exact date. Dr. Johnson 
 afterwards gave it to me himself; 
 
 "Augustus still survives in Maro's strain, 
 And Spenser's verse prolongs Eliza's reign ; 
 Great George's acts let tuneful Gibber sing; 
 For Nature form'd the Poet for the King." 
 
 \} The epitaph of Philips is in the porch of Wolverhampton church. The 
 prose part of it is curious : 
 
 " Near this place lies 
 
 Charles Claudius Philips, 
 
 Whose absolute contempt of riches 
 
 and inimitable performances on the violin, 
 
 made him the admiration of all that knew him. 
 
 He was born in Wales, 
 
 made the tour of Europe, 
 
 and, after the experience of both kinds of fortune, 
 
 Died in 1732." 
 
 Mr. Garrick appears not to have recited the verses correctly, the original 
 being as follows. One of the various readings is remarkable, as it is the germ 
 of Johnson's concluding line : 
 
 " Exalted soul, thy various sounds could please 
 The love sick virgin, and the gouty ease ; 
 Could jarring n'owds, like old Amphion, move 
 To beauteous order and harmonious love ; 
 Rest here in peace, till Angels bid thee rise, 
 And meet thy Saviour's consort in the skies." 
 
 Dr. Wilkes, the authour of these lines, was a Fellow of Trinity College, 
 in Oxford, and Rector of Pitchford, in Shropshire : he collected materials 
 for a history of that county, and is spoken of by Brown Willis, in his History 
 of Mitred Abdies, vol. ii. p. 189. But he was a native of Staffordshire ; and 
 to the antiquities of that county was his attention chiefly confined. Mr. Shaw 
 has had the use of his papers. — H. Blakenay.] 

 
 Age 31-32] WORKING FOR CAVE. 103 
 
 In 1741 he wrote for the Gentleman's Magazine, "the 
 Preface," f " Conclusion of his Lives of Drake and Barretier," *" 
 "A free translation of the Jests of Hierocles, with an Intro- 
 duction ; " t and, I think, the following- pieces : " Debate on the 
 Proposal of parliament to Cromwell, to assume the Title of 
 King, abridged, modified, and digested ;"t "Translation of 
 Abbe Guyon's Dissertation on the Amazons ; " f " Translation 
 of Fontenelle's Panegyrick on Dr. Morin." f Two notes upon 
 this appear to me undoubtedly his. He this year, and the two 
 following, wrote the Parliamentary Debates. He told me 
 himself, that he was the sole composer of them for those three 
 years only. He was not, however, precisely exact in his state- 
 ment, which he mentioned from hasty recollection ; for it is 
 sufficiently evident, that his compositiom of them began 
 November 19, 1740, and ended February 23, 1742-3.^ 
 
 It appears from some of Cave's letters to Dr. Birch, that 
 Cave had better assistance ^for that branch of his Magazine 
 than has been generally supposed ; and that he was indefatig- 
 able in getting it made as perfect as he could. 
 
 Thus, 2ist July, 1735, "I trouble you with the inclosed, 
 because you said you could easily correct what is here given for 
 
 Lord C Id's speech. I beg you will do so as soon as you 
 
 can for me, because the month is far advanced." 
 
 And 15th July, 1737, "As you remember the debates so far 
 as to perceive the speeches already printed are not exact, I beg 
 the favour that you will peruse the inclosed, and, in the best 
 manner your memory will serve, correct the mistaken passages, 
 or add any thing that is omitted. I should be very glad to 
 
 ^ [Boswell must mean that the sole and exclusive composition by Johnson 
 began at this date ; because "we have seen that he had been employed on 
 these debates as early as 1738. I, however, see abundant reason to believe 
 that he wrote them from the time (June 1738) that they assumed the 
 Lilliputian title, and even the " Introduction " to this new form is evidently 
 his; and when Mr. Boswell limits Johnson's share to the 23rd of February, 
 1743, he refers to the date of the debate itself, and not to that of the report, 
 for the debates on the Gin Act (certainly reported by Johnson), which took 
 place in February, 1743, were not concluded in the Magazine till February, 
 1744 : so that instead of two years and nine months, according to Mr. 
 lioswell's reckoning, we have, I think, Johnson's own evidence that he 
 was employed in this way for near six years — from 1738 to 1744 — Croker.]
 
 104 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1741. 
 
 have something of the Duke of N le's speech, which would 
 
 be particularly of service. 
 
 "A gentleman has Lord Bathurst's speech to add some- 
 thing to." 
 
 And July 3, 1744, "You will see what stupid, low, abomi- 
 nable stuff is put ^ upon your noble and learned friend's^ 
 character, such as I should quite reject, and endeavour to do 
 something better towards doing justice to the character. But 
 as I cannot expect to attain my desire in that respect, it would 
 be a great satisfaction, as well as an honour to our work, to 
 have the favour of the genuine speech. It is a method that 
 several have been pleased to take, as I could shew, but I think 
 myself under a restraint. I shall say so far, that I have had 
 some by a third hand, which I understood well enough to come 
 from the first ; others by penny-post, and others by the speakers 
 themselves, who have been pleased to visit St. John's gate, and 
 show particular marks of their being pleased." ^ 
 
 There is no reason, I believe, to doubt the veracity of Cave. 
 It is, however, remarkable, that none of these letters are in the 
 years during which Johnson alone furnished the Debates, and 
 one of them is in the very year after he ceased from that labour. 
 Johnson told me, that as soon as he found that the speeches 
 were thought genuine, he determined that he would write no 
 more of them ; " for he would not be accessary to the propaga- 
 tion of falsehood." And such was the tenderness of his 
 conscience, that a short time before his death he expressed 
 his regret for his having been the authour of fictions which 
 had passed for realities. 
 
 He nevertheless agreed with me in thinking, that the debates 
 which he had framed were to be valued as orations upon 
 questions of publick importance. They have accordingly been 
 collected in volumes, properly arranged, and recommended to 
 the notice of parliamentary speakers by a preface, written by 
 no inferior hand.* I must, however, observe, that although 
 
 ^ I suppose in another compilation of the same kind. 
 
 - Doubtless, Lord Hardwick. 
 
 ^ Birch's MSS. in the British Museum, 4302. 
 
 * I am assured that the editor is Mr. George Chalmers, whose commercial 
 works are well known and esteemed. [This collection is stated in the 
 Preface to the Parliamentary History, vol. x., to be very incomplete: of
 
 AgE32."j working for CAVE. 105 
 
 there is in those debates a wonderful store of pohtical informa- 
 tion, and very powerful eloquence, I cannot agree that they 
 exhibit the manner of each particular speaker, as Sir John 
 Hawkins seems to think. But, indeed, vyhat opinion can we 
 have of his judgment and taste in public speaking, who pre- 
 sumes to give, as the characteristicks of two celebrated orators, 
 " the deep-mouthed rancour of Pulteney, and the yelping 
 pertinacity of Pitt."^ 
 
 This year I find that his tragedy of Irene had been for some 
 time ready for the stage, and that his necessities made him 
 desirous of getting as much as he could for it without delay ; 
 for there is the following letter from Mr, Cave to Dr. Birch in 
 the same volume of manuscripts in the British Museum, from 
 which I copied those above quoted. They were most obligingly 
 pointed out to me by Sir William Musgrave, one of the Curators 
 of that noble repository. 
 
 " Sept. 9, 1741. 
 " I HAVE put Mr. Johnson's play into Mr. Gray's ^ hands, in 
 order to sell it to him, if he is inclined to buy it ; but I doubt 
 whether he will or not. He would dispose of the copy, and 
 whatever advantage may be made by acting it. Would your 
 society,^ or any gentleman, or body of men that you know, take 
 such a bargain } He and I are very unfit to deal with theatrical 
 persons. Fleetwood was to have acted it last season, but 
 Johnson's diffidence or * prevented it." 
 
 I have already mentioned that " Irene " was not brought 
 
 thirty-two debates, twelve are given under wrong dates, and several of John- 
 son's best compositions are wholly omitted ; amongst others the important 
 debate of Feb. 13, 1 741, on Mr. Sandys's motion for the removal of Sir Robert 
 Walpole : other omissions, equally striking, are complained of. — Croker.] 
 
 ^ Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 100. 
 
 2 A bookseller of London. [John Gray was a bookseller, at the Cross Keys 
 in the Poultry, the shop formerly kept by Dr. Samuel Chandler. Like his 
 predecessor, he became a dissenting minister; but he afterwards took orders 
 in the Church, and held a living at Ripon in Yorkshire. — Wright.] 
 
 ^ Not the Royal Society : but the Society for the Encouragement of 
 Learning, of which Dr. Birch was a leading member. Their object was, to 
 assist authours in printing expensive works. It existed from about 1735 to 
 1746, when, having incurred a considerable debt, it was dissolved. 
 
 ■* There is no erasure here, but a mere blank : to fill up which may be an 
 exercise for ingenious conjectui'e.
 
 io6 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1742. 
 
 into publick notice till Garrick was manager of Drury-lane 
 theatre. 
 
 In 1742^ he wrote for the Gentleman's Magazine the 
 " Preface," -f- the " Parliamentary Debates," * " Essay on the 
 Account of the Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough," * 
 then the popular topick of conversation. This Essay is a 
 short but masterly performance.^ We find him in No. 13 
 of his Rambler, censuring a profligate sentiment in that 
 "Account;"^ and again insisting upon it strenuously in conver- 
 sation.* " An account of the Life of Peter Burman," * I believe 
 chiefly taken from a foreign publication ; as, indeed, he could 
 not himself know much about Burman ; " Additions to his Life 
 of Barretier ; " * " The Life of Sydenham," * afterwards prefixed 
 to Dr. Swan's edition of his works ; " Proposals for printing 
 Bibliotheca Harleiana, or a Catalogue of the Library of the 
 Earl of Oxford."* His account of that celebrated collection 
 of books, in which he displays the importance to literature, 
 of what the French call a catalogue raisojinc, when the subjects 
 of it are extensive and various, and it is executed with ability, 
 cannot fail to impress all his readers with admiration of his 
 philological attainments. It was afterwards prefixed to the first 
 volume of the Catalogue, in which the Latin accounts of books 
 were written by him. He was employed in this business by 
 Mr. Thomas Osborne, the bookseller, who purchased the 
 library for 13,000/., a sum which Mr. Oldys says, in one of his 
 manuscripts, was not more than the binding of the books had 
 
 ^ [From one of his letters to a friend, written in June 1742, it should seem 
 that he then purposed to write a play on the subject of Charles the Twelrth 
 of Sweden, and to have it ready for the ensuing winter. The passage alluded 
 to, however, is somewhat ambiguous ; and the work which he then had in 
 contemplation may have been a history of that monarch. — Malone.] 
 
 2 [The most singular part of it is his character of King William, at the 
 conclusion, p. 300. — Chalmers.] 
 
 3 [The passage alluded to runs as follows : — "A late female minister of 
 state has been shameless enough to inform the world that she used, when 
 she wanted to extract anything from her sovereign, to remind her of 
 Montaigne's reasoning — who has determined that to tell a secret to a friend 
 is no breach of fidelity, because the number of persons is not multiplied ; a 
 man and his friend being virtually the same."— Wright.] 
 
 * Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit. p. 167.
 
 Age 33.] HE BE A TS A BOOKSELLER. 107 
 
 cost ; ' yet, as Dr, Johnson assured me, the slowness of the sale 
 was such, that there was not much gained by it. It has been 
 confidently related, with many embellishments, that Johnson 
 one day knocked Osborne down in his shop, with a folio, and 
 put his foot upon his neck. The simple truth I had from 
 Johnson himself " Sir, he was impertinent to me, and I beat 
 him. But it was not in his shop : it was in my own chamber." 
 
 A very diligent observer may trace him where we should not 
 easily suppose him to be found. I have no doubt that he 
 wrote the little abridgement entitled " Foreign History," in the 
 Magazine for December. 
 
 To prove it, I shall quote the Introduction : " As this is that 
 season of the year in which Nature may be said to command 
 a suspension of hostilities, and which seems intended, by putting 
 a short stop to violence and slaughter, to afford time for malice 
 to relent, and animosity to subside ; we can scarce expect any 
 other account than of plans, negociations, and treaties, of pro- 
 posals for peace, and preparations for war." As also this 
 passage : " Let those who despise the capacity of the Swiss, 
 tell us by what wonderful policy, or by what happy conciliation 
 of interests, it is brought to pass, that in a body made up of 
 different communities and different religions, there should be no 
 civil commotions, though the people are so warlike, that to 
 nominate and raise an army is the same." 
 
 I am obliged to Mr. Astle-for his ready permission to copy 
 the two following letters, of which the originals are in his 
 possession. Their contents show that they were written about 
 this time, and that Johnson was now engaged in preparing an 
 historical account of the British Parliament. 
 
 '•To Mr. Cave. 
 
 " SIR, 
 " I BELIEVE I am going to write a long letter, and have 
 therefore taken a whole sheet of paper. The first thing to be 
 written about is our historical desitrn. 
 
 ^ [See Censura Literaria, vol. i. p. 438. — Wright.] 
 
 2 [Thomas Astle, Esq., many years Keeper of the Records in the Tower, 
 one of the Keepers of the Paper Office, and Trustee of the British Museum. 
 He contributed many articles to the Archa^ologia ; but his principal work 
 was the Origin and Progress of Writing, as well Hieroglyphic as Elementary. 
 He died Dec. i, 1803. — Wright.]
 
 loS BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1742-43. 
 
 "You mentioned the proposal of printinj^ in numbers, as an 
 alteration in the scheme, but I believe you mistook, some 
 way or other, my meaning ; I had no other view than that 
 you might rather print too many of five sheets, than of 
 five-and-thirty. 
 
 " With regard to what I shall say on the manner of proceed- 
 ing, I would have it understood as wholly indifferent to me, and 
 my opinion only, not my resolution. Euiptoris sit cligerc. 
 
 " I think the insertion of the exact dates of the most im- 
 portant events in the margin, or of so many events as may 
 enable the reader to regulate the order of facts with sufficient 
 exactness, the proper medium between a journal, which has 
 only regard to time, and a history which ranges facts according 
 to their dependence on each other, and postpones or anticipates 
 according to the convenience of narration. I think the work 
 ought to partake of the spirit of history, which is contrary to 
 minute exactness, and of the regularity of a journal, which is in- 
 consistent with spirit. For this reason I neither admit numbers 
 or dates, nor reject them. 
 
 " I am of your opinion with regard to placing most of the 
 resolutions, &c., in the margin, and think we shall give the most 
 complete account of Parliamentary proceedings that can be con- 
 trived. The naked papers, without an historical treatise inter- 
 woven, require some other book to make them understood. I 
 will date the succeeding facts with some exactness, but I think 
 in the margin. You told me on Saturday that I had received 
 money on this work, and found set down 13/. 2s 6d., reckoning 
 the half guinea of last Saturda5\ As you hinted to me that you 
 had many calls for money, I would not press you too hard, and 
 therefore shall desire only, as I send it in, two guineas for a 
 sheet of copy ; the rest you may pay me when it may be more 
 convenient ; and even by this sheet-payment I shall, for some 
 time, be very expensive. 
 
 " The Life of Savage I am ready to go upon ; and in Great 
 Primer and Pica notes, I reckon on sending in half a sheet a 
 day ; but the money for that shall likewise lye by in your hands 
 till it is done. With the debates, shall not I have business 
 enough ? if I had but good pens. 
 
 " Towards Mr. Savage's Life, what more have you got .-' I 
 would willingly have his trial, &c., and know whether his defence 
 be at Bristol, and would have his collection of poems, on account 
 of the Preface ; — " The Plain Dealer," ^ — all the mag-azines that 
 have any thing of his or relating to him. 
 
 'ts"- 
 
 1 The " Plain Dealer" was published in 1724, and contained some account 
 of Savage.
 
 Age 33-34.] WORKING FOR CA VE. 109 
 
 " I thought my letter would be long, but it is now ended ; and, 
 
 " I am, Sir, yours, &c., 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 " The boy found me writing this almost in the dark, when I 
 could not quite easily read yours. 
 
 " I have read the Italian : — nothing in it is well. 
 
 " I had no notion of having any thing for the inscription ? 
 I hope you don't think I kept it to extort a price. I could 
 think of nothing, till to-day. If you could spare me another 
 guinea for the history, I should take it very kindly to-night ; 
 but if you do not I shall not think it an injury. — I am almost 
 well again." 
 
 " TO MR. CAVE. 
 "SIR, 
 
 " You did not tell me your determination about the Soldiers 
 Letter,^ which I am confident was never printed. I think it 
 will not do by itself, or in any other place so well as the I\Iag. 
 Extraordinary. If you will have it at all, I believe you do not 
 think I set it high, and I will be glad if what you give, you will 
 give quickly. 
 
 " You need not be in care about something to print, for I have 
 got the State Trials, and shall extract Layer, Atterbury, and 
 Macclesfield from them, and shall bring them to you in a 
 fortnight ; after which I will try to get the South Sea Report." 
 
 [A'b date, nor sigjiatiire.'] 
 
 I would also ascribe to him an " Essay on the Description of 
 China, from the French of Du Hale." f 
 
 His writings in the Gentleman's Magazine, in 1743, are, the 
 Preface,-}- the Parliamentary Debates, -|- "Considerations on the 
 Dispute between Crousaz and Warburton, on Pope's Essay on 
 Man;"-|- in which, while he defends Crousaz, he shews an 
 admirable metaphysical acuteness and temperance in con- 
 troversy; "Ad Lauram parituram Epigramma ; " -* and, "A 
 
 ^ I have not discovered what this was. 
 
 - " Angliacas inter pulcherrima Laura puellas, 
 
 ]\[ox uteri pondus depositura grave, 
 
 Adsit, Laura, tibi facihs Lucina dolenti, 
 
 Neve tibi noceat prasnituisse Dea;." 
 
 Mr. Hector was present when this Epigram was made i7npromptu. The
 
 no BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1742-43. 
 
 Latin Translation of Pope's Verses on his Grotto ; " * and, as he 
 could employ his pen with equal success upon a small matter 
 
 first line was propobed by Dr. James, and Johnson was called upon by the 
 company to finish it, which he instantly did. 
 
 [The following eleg.mt Latin Ode, which appeared in the Gentlemaiis 
 Magazine for 1743, (vol. xiii. p. 548,) was many years ago pointed out to 
 James Bindley, Esq., as written by Johnson, and may safely be attributed 
 to him. 
 
 AD ORNATISSIMAM PUELLAM. 
 
 Van^ sit arti, sit studio modus, 
 
 Formosa virgo : sit speculo cjuies, 
 Curamque quserendi decoris 
 
 Mitte, supervacuosque cultus. 
 
 Ut fortuitis verna coloribus 
 
 Depicta vulgo rura magis placent, 
 Nee invident horto nitenti 
 
 Divitias operosiores : 
 
 Lenique fons cum murmure pulchrior 
 
 Obliquat ultro pra^cipitcm fugam 
 Inter reluctantes lapillos, at 
 
 Ducit aquas temere sequentes : 
 
 Utque inter undas, inter et arbores, 
 Jam vere primo duke strepunt aves, 
 
 Et arte nulla gratiores 
 
 Ingeminant sine lege cantus : 
 
 Nativa sic te gratia, te nitor 
 
 Simplex decebit, te veneres tuse ; 
 Nudus Cupido suspicatur 
 
 Artifices nimis apparatus. 
 
 Ergo fluentem, tu male sedula, 
 
 Ne sa^va inuras semper acu comam; 
 
 Nee sparsa odorato nitentes 
 Pulvere dedecores capillos 
 
 Ouales nee olim vel Ptolemaeia 
 
 Jactabat uxor, sidereo in choro 
 Utcuncjue devotas refulgent 
 
 Verticis exuviae decori ; 
 
 Nee diva mater, cum similem tuae 
 Mentita formam, et pulchrior aspici, 
 
 Permisit incomptas protervis 
 Fusa comas agitare ventis. 
 
 In vol. xiv\ p. 46, of the same work, an elegant Epigram was inserted, in 
 answer to the foregoing Ode, which was written by Dr. Inyon, of Pulham, 
 in Norfolk, a physician, and an excellent classical scholar : 
 
 Ad Aiiihorcm Carminis AD Ornatissimam Puellam. 
 
 O cui non potuit, quia culta, placere puella. 
 
 Qui speras Alusam posse placere tuam? — Malone.] 
 
 I
 
 Age 33-34-] HIS LATIN AND ENGLISH VERSE. iii 
 
 as a great, I suppose him to be the author of an advertisement 
 for Osborne, concerning the great Harleian Catalogue. 
 
 But I should think myself much wanting, both to my 
 illustrious friend and my readers, did I not introduce here, 
 with more than ordinary respect, an exquisitely beautiful Ode, 
 which has not been inserted in any of the collections of Johnson's 
 poetry, written by him at a very early period, as Mr. Hector 
 informs me, and inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine of 
 this year. 
 
 Friendship, an Ode.* 
 
 Friendship, peculiar boon of heav'n, 
 
 The noble mind's delight and pride, 
 To men and angels only giv'n, 
 
 To all the lower world deny'd. 
 
 While love, unknown among the blest, 
 
 Parent of thousand wild desires, 
 The savage and the human breast 
 
 Torments alike with raging fires ; 
 
 With bright, but oft destructive gleam, 
 
 Alike o'er all his lightnings fly; 
 Thy lambent glories only beam 
 
 Around the fav'rites of the sky. 
 
 Thy gentle flows of guiltless joys 
 
 On fools and villains ne'er descend ; 
 In vain for thee the tyrant sighs, 
 
 And hugs a flatterer for a friend. 
 
 Directress of the brave and just, 
 
 O guide us through life's darksome way ! 
 
 And let the tortures of mistrust 
 On selfish bosoms only prey. 
 
 Nor shall thine ardour cease to glow, 
 When souls to blissful climes remove : 
 
 What rais'd our virtue here below. 
 Shall aid our happiness above. 
 
 Johnson had now an opportunity of obliging his schoolfellow 
 Dr. James, of whom he once observed, " No man brings more 
 m.ind to his profession." James published this year his " Medi- 
 cinal Dictionary," in three volumes folio. Johnson, as I under- 
 stood from him, had written, or assisted in writing, the proposals 
 for this work ; and being very fond of the study of physick, in 
 which James was his master, he furnished some of the articles.
 
 112 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1743-44. 
 
 Ile, however, certainly wrote for it the Dedication to Dr. Mead,-|- 
 which is conceived with great address, to conciliate the patronage 
 of that very eminent man.^ 
 
 It has been circulated, I know not on what authenticity, that 
 Johnson considered Dr. Birch as a dull writer, and said of him, 
 "Tom Birch is as brisk as a bee in conversation ; but no sooner 
 does he take a pen in his hand, than it becomes a torpedo to 
 him, and benumbs all his faculties."^ That the literature of 
 this country is much indebted to Birch's activity and diligence 
 must certainly be acknowledged. We have seen that Johnson 
 honoured him with a Greek Epigram ; and his correspondence 
 with him, during many years, proves that he had no mean 
 opinion of him. 
 
 " TO DR. BIRCH. 
 
 " Thursday, Sept. 29, 1743. 
 " SIR, 
 " I HOPE you will excuse me for troubling you on an occasion 
 on which I know not whom else I can apply to ; I am at a loss 
 for the Lives and Characters of Earl Stanhope, the tw^o Craggs, 
 and the minister Sunderland ; and beg that you will inform [me] 
 where I may find them, and send any pamphlets, &c. relating to 
 them to Mr. Cave to be perused for a few days by. Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 1 "to dr. mead. 
 
 " SIR, 
 "That the Medicinal Dictionary is dedicated to you, is to be imputed 
 only to your reputation for superior skill in those sciences \yhich I have 
 endeavoured to explain and facilitate : and you are, therefore, to consider 
 this address, if it be agreeable to you, as one of the rewards of merit ; and if 
 otherwise, as one of the inconveniences of eminence. 
 
 " However you shall receive it, my design cannot be disappointed ; because 
 this publick appeal to your judgement Avill shew that I do not found my hopes 
 of approbation upon the ignorance of my readers, and that I fear his censure 
 least, whose knowledge is most extensive. 
 
 " I am. Sir, your most obedient humble servant, 
 
 " R. James." 
 
 2 [By Hawkins. Life, p. 209. There seems no reason to doubt that Dr. 
 Birch's conversation exceeded his writings in vivacity, but the phrase itself 
 is, as Mr. P. Cunningham observes, borrowed from Beau Nash, who said of 
 himself that "his pen was a torpedo, which, when he grasped it, benumbed 
 all his faculties." Goldsmith's Life of Nash. — Croker.]
 
 Age 34-35-] THE HOUSE AT LICHFIELD. 113 
 
 His circumstances were at this time embarrassed ; yet his 
 affection for his mother was so warm, and so Hberal, that he took 
 upon himself a debt of hers, which, though small in itself, was 
 then considerable to him.^ This appears from the following 
 letter which he wrote to Mr. Levett, of Lichfield, the original 
 of which lies now before me. 
 
 " TO MR. LEVETT ; IN LICHFIELD. 
 
 " December i, 1743. 
 SIR, 
 
 " I AM extremely sorry that we have encroached so much 
 upon your forbearance with respect to the interest, which a great 
 perplexity of affairs hindered me from thinking of with that 
 attention that I ought, and which I am not immediately able 
 to remit to you, but will pay it (I think twelve pounds,) in two 
 months. I look upon this, and on the future interest of that 
 mortgage, as my own debt ; and beg that you will be pleased 
 to give me directions how to pay it, and not to mention it to 
 my dear mother. If it be necessary to pay this in less time, I 
 believe I can do it; but I take two months for certainty, and beg 
 an answer whether you can allow me so much time. I think my- 
 self very much obliged to your forbearance, and shall esteem it 
 a great happiness to be able to serve you. I have great op- 
 portunities of dispersing any thing that you may think it proper 
 to make publick. I will give a note for the money, payable at 
 the time mentioned, to any one here that you shall appoint. 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 "Your most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " At Mr. Osborne's, bookseller, in Gray's Inn." 
 
 It does not appear that he wrote any thing in 1744 for the 
 Gentleman's Magazine, but the Preface. -|- His life of Barretier 
 was now re-published in a pamphlet by itself. But he produced 
 one work this year, fully sufficient to maintain the high reputa- 
 tion which he had acquired. This was " The Life of Richard 
 Savage ; " * a man of whom it is difficult to speak impartially, 
 
 ^ [Mr. Croker pointed out that in this case Johnson might be said to care 
 at once for himself and his mother, when he kept up payment of mortgage 
 interest on the house at Lichfield, which, after his mother's death, was to 
 become his own.] 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 1 14 BOSWELnS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1744. 
 
 without wondering that he was for some time the intimate com- 
 panion of Johnson ; for his character^ was marked by profligacy, 
 insolence, and ingratitude : yet, as he undoubtedly had a warm 
 and vigorous, though unregulated mind, had seen life in all its 
 varieties, had been much in the company of the statesmen and 
 wits of his time, he could communicate to Johnson an abundant 
 supply of such materials as his philosophical curiosity most 
 eagerly desired ; and as Savage's misfortunes and misconduct 
 had reduced him to the lowest state of wretchedness as a writer 
 for bread, his visits to St. John's Gate naturally brought Johnson 
 and him together.^ 
 
 It is melancholy to reflect, that Johnson and Savage were 
 
 1 As a specimen of his temper, I insert the following letter from him to a 
 noble Lord, to whom he was under great obligations, but who, on account of 
 b.is bad conduct, was obliged to discard him. The original was in the hands 
 of the late Francis Cockayne Cust, Esq., one of his Majesty's Counsel learned 
 in the law : 
 
 " Right Honourable Brute and Booby, 
 
 " I FIND you want (as Mr. is pleased to hint,) to swear away my 
 
 life, that is, the life of your creditor, because he asks you tor a debt. — The 
 publick shall soon be acquainted with this, to judge whether you are not 
 titter to be an Irish Evidence, than to be an Irish Peer. — I defy and despise 
 you. I am 
 
 " Your determined adversary, 
 
 " R.S." 
 
 - Sir John Hawkins gives the world to understand, that Johnson, "being 
 an admirer of genteel manners, was captivated by the address and demeanour 
 of Savage, who, as to his exterior, was to a remarkable degree accomplished. " 
 — Hawkins's Life, p. 52. But Sir John's notions of gentility must appear 
 somewhat ludicrous, from his stating the following circumstance as pre- 
 sumptive evidence that Savage was a good swordsman : " That he understood 
 the exercise of a gentleman's weapon, may be inferred from the use made of 
 it in that rash encounter which is related in his Life." The dexterity here 
 alluded to was, that Savage, in a nocturnal fit of drunkenness, stabbed a man 
 at a coffee-house, and killed him : for which he was tried at the Old Bailey, 
 and found guilty of murder. 
 
 Johnson, indeed, describes him as having " a grave and manly deportment, 
 a solemn dignity of mien : but which, upon a nearer acquaintance, softened 
 into an engaging easiness of manners." How highly Johnson admired him 
 for that knowledge which he himself so much cultivated, and what kindness 
 he entertained for him, appears from the following lines in the Gentleman's 
 Magazine for April, 1738, which 1 am assured were written by Johnson : 
 
 ^^ Ad RiCARDUM Savage. 
 
 " Hiiinani stitdium generis cui pectore fervet 
 O co.'al hiimanmn te fovcatqiie genits."
 
 Age 35-] ii^S ''LIFE OF RICHARD SAVAGE:' 115 
 
 sometimes in such extreme indigence/ that they could not pay 
 for a lodging ; so that they have wandered together whole nights 
 in the streets.^ Yet in these almost incredible scenes of distress, 
 we may suppose that Savage mentioned many of the anecdotes 
 with which Johnson afterwards enriched the life of his unhappy 
 companion, and those of other Poets. 
 
 He told Sir Joshua Reynolds, that one night in particular, 
 when Savage and he walked round St. James's-square for want 
 of a lodging, they were not at all depressed by their situation ; 
 but in high spirits, and brimful of patriotism, traversed the 
 square for several hours, inveighed against the minister, and 
 " resolved they would stand by their countiy.'' 
 
 I am afraid, however, that by associating with Savage, who 
 was habituated to the dissipation and licentiousness of the town, 
 Johnson, though his good principles remained steady, did not 
 entirely preserve that conduct for which, in days of greater 
 simplicity, he was remarked by his friend Mr. Hector; but was 
 imperceptibly led into some indulgences which occasioned much 
 distress to his virtuous mind. 
 
 ^ [The following striking proof of Johnson's extreme indigence, when he 
 published the Life of Savage, was communicated to Mr. Boswell, by Mr. 
 Richard Stowe, of Apsley, in Bedfordshire, from the information of Mr. 
 Walter Harte, authour of the Life of Gustavus Adolphus : 
 
 " Soon after Savage's Life was published, Mr. Harte dined with Edward 
 Cave, and occasionally praised it. Soon after meeting him. Cave said, ' You 
 made a man very happy t'other day.' — ' How could that be?' says Harte; 
 'nobody was there but ourselves.' Cave answered, by reminding him that a 
 plate of victuals was sent behind a screen, which was to Johnson, dressed so 
 shabbily, that he did not choose to appear ; but on hearing the conversation, 
 he was highly delighted with the encomiums on his book." — Malone.] 
 
 ^ [As Johnson was married before he settled in London, and must have 
 always had a habitation for his wife, some readers have wondered bow he 
 ever could have been driven to stroll about with Savage, all night, for want 
 of a lodging. But it should be remembered, that Johnson, at different 
 periods, had lodgings in the vicinity of London ; and his finances certainly 
 would not admit of a double establishment. When, therefore, he spent a 
 convivial day in London, and found it too late to return to any country 
 residence he may occasionally have had, having no lodging in town, he was 
 obliged to pass the night in the manner described above ; for, though at that 
 period, it was not uncommon for two men to sleep together, Savage, it 
 appears, could accommodate him with nothing but his company in the 
 open air. — The Epigram given above, which doubtless was written by 
 Johnson, shews that their acquaintance commenced before April, 1738. — 
 Malone.] 
 
 1 2
 
 ii6 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. \\~\\. 
 
 That Johnson was anxious that an authentick and favourable 
 account of his extraordinary friend should first get possession 
 of the publick attention, is evident from a letter which he wrote 
 in the Gentleman's Magazine for August of the year preceding 
 its publication. 
 
 "MR. URBAN, 
 
 " As your collections shew how often you have owed the 
 ornaments of your poetical pages to the correspondence of the 
 unfortunate and ingenious Mr. Savage, I doubt not but you have 
 so much regard to his memory, as to encourage any design that 
 may have a tendency to the preservation of it from insults or 
 calumnies ; and therefore, with some degree of assurance, intreat 
 you to inform the publick, that his life will speedily be published 
 by a person who was favoured with his confidence, and received 
 from himself an account of most of the transactions which he 
 proposes to mention, to the time of his retirement to Swansea, 
 in Wales. 
 
 " From that period, to his death in the prison of Bristol, 
 the account will be continued from materials still less liable to 
 objection ; his own letters, and those of his friends, some of which 
 will be inserted in the work, and abstracts of others subjoined 
 in the margin. 
 
 " It may be reasonably imagined, that others may have the 
 same design ; but as it is not credible that they can obtain the 
 same materials, it must be expected they will supply from in- 
 vention the want of intelligence ; and that under the title of 
 * The Life of Savage,' they will publish only a novel, filled with 
 romantick adventures, and imaginary amours. You may there- 
 fore, perhaps, gratify the lovers of truth and wit, by giving me 
 leave to inform them in your Magazine, that my account will be 
 published in 8vo. by Mr. Roberts, in Warwick-lane." 
 
 \^No SignatJireJ] 
 
 In February, 1744, it accordingly came forth from the shop of 
 Roberts, between whom and Johnson I have not traced any 
 connection, except the casual one of this publication.^ In 
 
 1 [I find that J. Roberts printed, in April, 1744, The Life of Barreiier, 
 probably a reprint from the Gentletnaii's Magaziyie, but I have not seen it. 
 Cave sometimes permitted the name of another printer to appear on the
 
 Age 35-] HIS '-LIFE OF RICHARD SAVAGE." 117 
 
 Johnson's " Life of Savage," although it must be allowed that 
 its moral is the reverse of — " Respicere exemplar vitcB inorumque 
 jubebo,'' a very useful lesson is inculcated, to guard men of 
 warm passions from a too free indulgence of them ; and the 
 various incidents are related in so clear and animated a manner, 
 and illuminated throughout with so much philosophy, that it is 
 one of the most interesting narratives in the English language. 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds told me, that upon his return from Italy 
 he met with it in Devonshire, knowing nothing of its authour, 
 and began to read it while he was standing with his arm leaning 
 against a chimney-piece. It seized his attention so strongly, 
 that, not being able to lay down the book till he had finished it, 
 when he attempted to move, he found his arm totally benumbed. 
 The rapidity with which this work was composed, is a wonder- 
 ful circumstance. Johnson has been heard to say, " I wrote 
 forty-eight of the printed octavo pages of the Life of Savage 
 at a sitting ; but then I sat up all night." ^ 
 
 He exhibits the genius of Savage to the best advantage, in 
 the specimens of his poetry which he has selected, some of 
 which are of uncommon merit. We, indeed, occasionally find 
 such vigour and such point, as might make us suppose that 
 the generous aid of Johnson had been imparted to his friend. 
 Mr. Thomas Warton made this remark to me ; and, in support of 
 it, quoted from the poem entitled " The Bastard," a line in \vhich 
 the fancied superiority of one "stamped in Nature's mint with 
 
 title-pages of books of which he was, in fact, the pubUsher, as Miss Carter's 
 Examen was printed under the name of Dodd« In this case the fact is 
 certain; as it appears from the letter to Cave, August, 1743, that Johnson 
 sold the work to him even before it was written.— Croker.] [Cave was the 
 purchaser of the copyright, and the following is a copy of Johnson's receipt 
 for the money :— "The 14th day of December, received of Mr. Ed. Cave the 
 sum of fifteen guineas, in full, for compiling and writing The Life of Richard 
 Savage^ Esq., deceased; and in full for all materials thereto applied, and not 
 found by the said Edward Cave. I say, received by me, Sam. Johnson. 
 Dec. 14, 1743."— Wright.] 
 
 [Roberts was, for whatever reason, employed by Cave to publish theyf/'j'/ 
 edition of this life. Cave was the purchaser of the copyright, and Johnson's 
 receipt for the money (fifteen guineas) appeared lately in the Gent. Mag. with 
 another agreement between Johnson and Cave, respecting the Rambler. — 
 Chalmers.] 
 
 ^ Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3rd edit. p. 35.
 
 iiS BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [174; 
 
 extas}-," is contrasted with a regular lawful descendant of some 
 great and ancient family : 
 
 " No tenth transmitter of a foolish face." 
 
 15 ut the fact is, that this poem was published some years before 
 Johnson and Savage were acquainted.^ 
 
 It is remarkable, that in this biographical disquisition there 
 appears a very strong symptom of Johnson's prejudice against 
 players ; a prejudice which may be attributed to the following 
 causes : first, the imperfection of his organs, which were so 
 defective that he was not susceptible of the fine impressions 
 which theatrical excellence produces upon the generality of man- 
 kind ; secondly, the cold rejection of his tragedy; and, lastly, 
 the brilliant success of Garrick, who had been his pupil, who had 
 come to London at the same time with him, not in a much more 
 prosperous state than himself, and whose talents he undoubtedly 
 rated low, compared with his own. His being outstripped by 
 his pupil in the race of immediate fame, as well as of fortune, 
 probably made him feel some indignation, as thinking that 
 whatever might be Garrick's merits in his art, the reward was 
 too great when compared with what the most successful eff'orts 
 of literary labour could attain. At all periods of his life, 
 Johnson used to talk contemptuously of players; but in this 
 work he speaks of them with peculiar acrimony; for which, 
 perhaps, there was formerly too much reason from the 
 licentious and dissolute manners of those engaged in that pro- 
 fession. It is but justice to add, that in our ow^n time such 
 a change has taken place, that there is no longer room for such 
 an unfavourable distinction. 
 
 His schoolfellow and friend. Dr. Taylor, told me a pleasant 
 anecdote of Johnson's triumphing over his pupil, David Garrick. 
 When that great actor had played some little time at Goodman's- 
 fields, Johnson and Taylor went to see him perform, and after- 
 wards passed the evening at a tavern with him and old Giffard."- 
 Johnson, who was ever depreciating stage-players, after cen- 
 
 1 [In 1728.] 
 
 2 [Giffard was the manager of Goodman's Fields playhouse, where 
 Garrick made his first appearance, Oct. 19, 1741, in the character of 
 Richard the i hird.— WRIGHT.]
 
 Age 35-] ^^S ''LIFE OF RICHARD SAVAGE." 119 
 
 suring some mistakes in emphasis, which Garrick had committed 
 in the course of that night's acting, said, " the players. Sir, have 
 got a kind of rant, with which they run on, without any regard 
 either to accent or emphasis." Both Garrick and Giffard were 
 offended at this sarcasm, and endeavoured to refute it ; upon 
 which Johnson rejoined, "Well, now, I'll give you something to 
 speak, with which you are little acquainted, and then we shall 
 see how just my observation is. That shall be the criterion. 
 Let me hear you repeat the ninth Commandment, ' Thou shalt 
 not bear false witness against thy neighbour.' " Both tried at it, 
 said Dr. Taylor, and both mistook the emphasis, which should 
 be upon not and false witness} Johnson put them right, and 
 enjoyed his victory with great glee. 
 
 His "Life of Savage" was no sooner published, than the 
 following liberal praise was given to it, in "The Champion/' a 
 periodical paper : 
 
 "This pamphlet is, without flattery to its authour, as just 
 and well-written a piece as of its kind I ever saw ; so that 
 at the same time that it highly deserves, it certainly stands 
 very little in need of this recommendation. As to the history 
 of the unfortunate person, whose memoirs compose this work, 
 it is certainly penned with equal accuracy and spirit, of 
 which I am so much the better judge, as I know many 
 of the facts mentioned to be strictly true, and very fairly 
 related. Besides, it is not only the story of Mr. Savage, but 
 innumerable incidents relating to other persons, and other 
 affairs, which renders this a very amusing, and, withal, a very 
 instructive and valuable performance. The authour's observa- 
 tions are short, significant, and just, as his narrative is remark- 
 ably smooth, and well disposed. His reflections open to all the 
 recesses of the human heart ; and, in a word, a more just or 
 pleasant, a more engaging or a more improving treatise, on all 
 the excellencies and defects of human nature, is scarce to hz 
 found in our own, or perhaps, any other language." ^ 
 
 ^ I suspect Dr. Taylor was inaccurate in this statement. The emphasis 
 should be equally upon shalt and tiot, as both concur to form the negative 
 injunction ; and false wz'/Hess, like the other acts prohibited in the Decalogue, 
 should not be marked by any peculiar emphasis, but only be distinctly 
 enunciated. 
 
 [A moderate emphasis should be placed on false. — Kearney.] 
 
 2 This character of the Life of Savage was not written by Fielding, as has
 
 I20 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1744. 
 
 Johnson's partiality for Savage made him entertain no doubt 
 of his story, however extraordinary and improbable. It never 
 occurred to him to question his being the son of the Countess 
 of Macclesfield, of whose unrelenting barbarity he so loudly 
 complained, and the particulars of which are related in so 
 strong and affecting a manner in Johnson's Life of him. John- 
 son was certainly well warranted in publishing his narrative, 
 however offensive it might be to the lady and her relations, 
 because her alledged unnatural and cruel conduct to her son, 
 and shameful avowal of guilty were stated in a Life of Savage 
 now lying before me, which came out so early as 1727, and no 
 attempt had been made to confute it, or to punish the authour 
 or printer as a libeller : but for the honour of human nature, 
 we should be glad to find the shocking tale not true ; and from 
 a respectable gentleman ^ connected with the lady's family, I 
 have received such information and remarks, as joined to my 
 own inquiries, will, I think, render it at least somewhat doubtful, 
 especially when we consider that it must have originated from 
 the person himself who went by the name of Richard Savage. 
 
 If the x^'a.^xm., falsian in u7io,falsu!n in omnibus, were to be 
 received without qualification, the credit of Savage's narrative, 
 as conveyed to us, would be annihilated ; for it contains some 
 assertions which, beyond a question, are not true. 
 
 I. In order to induce a belief that the Earl Rivers, on 
 account of a criminal connection with whom. Lady Maccles- 
 field is said to have been divorced from her husband, by Act 
 of Parliament- had a peculiar anxiety about the child which 
 she bore to him, it is alledged, that his Lordship gave him his 
 own name, and had it duly recorded in the register of St, 
 Andrew's, Holborn. I have carefully inspected that register, 
 but no such entry is to be found. ^ 
 
 been supposed, but most probably by Ralph, who, as appears from tie 
 minutes of the Partners of " The Champion " in the possession of Mr. Reed, 
 of Staple Inn, succeeded Fielding in his share of the paper, before the date 
 of that eulogium. 
 
 1 The late Francis Cockayne Cust, Esq., one of his Majesty's Counsel. 
 
 2 1697. 
 
 2 [Mr. Cust's reasoning, with respect to the filiation of Richard Savage, 
 always appeared to me e.;trcniely unsatisfactory ; and is entirely overturned
 
 Age 35-] ^^-"^^ RICHARD SAVAGE AX IMPOSTOR? 121 
 
 2. It is stated, that " Lady Macclesfield having lived for some 
 time upon very uneasy terms with her husband, thought a 
 publick confession of adultery the most obvious and expedi- 
 tious method of obtaining her liberty ; " and Johnson, assuming 
 this to be true, stigmatises her with indignation, as " the wretch 
 who had, without scruple, proclaimed herself an adultress." ^ 
 But I have perused the Journals of both houses of Parliament 
 at the period of her divorce, and there find it authentically 
 ascertained, that so far from voluntarily submitting to the 
 ignominious charge of adultery, she made a strenuous defence 
 by her Counsel; the bill having been first moved the 15th of 
 January, 1697-8, in the house of Lords, and proceeded on, (with 
 various applications for time to bring up witnesses at a distance, 
 &c.) at intervals, till the 3d of March, when it passed. It was 
 
 by the following decisive observations, for which the reader is indebted to the 
 unwearied researches of Mr. Bindley. — -The story on which Mr. Cust so much 
 relies, that Savage was a supposititious child, not the son of Lord Rivers and 
 Lady Macclesfield, but the offspring of a shoemaker, introduced in con- 
 sequence of her real son's death, was, without doubt, grounded on the cir- 
 cumstance of Lady Macclesfield having, in 1696, previously to the birth of 
 Savage, had a daughter by the Earl Rivers, who died in her infancy : a fact, 
 which, as the same gentleman observes to me, was proved in the course of 
 the proceedings on Lord Macclesfield's Bill of Divorce. Most fictions of this 
 kind have some admixture of truth in them. — Malone.] 
 
 [From "the Earl of Macclesfield's Case,' which, in 1697-8, was presented 
 to the Lords, in order to procure an act of divorce, it appears, that "Anne, 
 Countess of Macclesfield, under the name of Madam Smith, was delivered 
 of a male child in Fox Court, near Brook-street, Holborn, by Mrs. Wright, a 
 midwife, on Saturday, the i6;h of January, 1696-7, at si.x o'clock in the 
 morning, who was baptized on the Alonday following, and registered by the 
 name of Richard, the son of John Smith, by Mr. Burbridge, assistant to 
 Dr. Manningham's Curate for St. Andrew's, Holborn : that the child was 
 christened on Monday, the i8th of January, in Fox Court; and, from the 
 privacy, was supposed by Mr. Burbridge to be 'a by-blow, or bastard.'" It 
 also appears, that during her delivery, the lady wore a mask ; and that Mary 
 Pegler, on the next day after the baptism (Tuesday) took a male child, whose 
 mother was called Madam Smith, from the house of Mrs. Pheasant, in Fox 
 Court, (running from Brook Street into Gray's-lnn Lane.) who went by the 
 name of Mrs. Lee. 
 
 Conformable to this statement is the entry in the Register of St. .Andrew's, 
 Holborn, which is as follows, and which unquestionably records the baptism 
 of Richard Savage, to whom Lord Rivers gave his own Christian name, pre- 
 fixed to the assumed surname of his mother : Jan. 1696-7. "Richard, son 
 of John Smith and Mary, in Fox Court, in Gray's-lnn Lane, baptized the 
 18th." — Bindley.] 
 
 ^ [No divorce can be obtained in the Courts, on confession of the party. 
 There must be proofs.— Kearney.]
 
 I 22 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1744- 
 
 brought to the Commons, by a message from the Lords, the 5th 
 of March, proceeded on the 7th, loth, nth, 14th, and 15th, on 
 which day, after a full examination of witnesses on both sides, 
 and hearing of Counsel, it was reported without amendments, 
 passed, and carried to the Lords. That Lady Macclesfield was 
 convicted of the crime of which she was accused, cannot be 
 denied ; but the question now is, whether the person calling 
 himself Richard Savage was her son. 
 
 It has been said,^ that when Earl Rivers was dying, and 
 anxious to provide for all his natural children, he was informed 
 by Lady Macclesfield that her son by him was dead. Whether, 
 then, shall we believe that this was a malignant lie, invented by 
 a mother to prevent her own child from receiving the bounty of 
 his father, which was accordingly the consequence, if the person 
 whose life Johnson wrote, was her son ; or shall we not rather 
 believe that the person who then assumed the name of Richard 
 Savage was an impostor, being in reality the son of the shoe- 
 maker, under whose wife's care - Lady Macclesfield's child was 
 placed ; that after the death of the real Richard Savage he 
 attempted to personate him ; and that the fraud being known 
 to Lady Macclesfield, he was therefore repulsed by her with 
 just resentment. 
 
 There is a strong circumstance in support of the last supposi- 
 tion ; though it has been mentioned as an aggravation of Lady 
 Macclesfield's unnatural conduct, and that is, her having pre- 
 vented him from obtaining the benefit of a legacy left to him 
 by Mrs. Lloyd, his god-mother. For if there was such a legacy 
 left, his not being able to obtain payment of it, must be 
 imputed to his consciousness that he was not the real person. 
 The just inference should be, that by the death of Lady 
 Macclesfield's child before its god-mother, the legacy became 
 
 1 [By Johnson, in his Life of Savage. — Malone.] 
 
 2 [This, as an accurate friend remarks to me, is not correctly stated. The 
 shoemaker under whose care Savage was placed, with a view to his becom- 
 ing his apprentice, was not the husband of his nurse. — See Johnson's Life of 
 Savage. — J. Boswell, junior.] [Johnson's sterling honesty causes him so to 
 tell Savage's story, that the modern reader has no difficulty in seeing him as 
 he was, and even seeing through the imposture by which Johnson and many 
 others were deceived.]
 
 Age 35] ^^AS RICHARD SAVAGE AN IMPOSTOR? 123 
 
 lapsed, and therefore that Johnson's Richard Savage was an 
 impostor. 
 
 If he had a title to the legacy, he could not have found any 
 difficulty in recovering it ; for had the executors resisted his 
 claim, the whole costs, as well as the legacy, must have been 
 paid by them, if he had been the child to whom it was 
 given. ^ 
 
 The talents of Savage, and the mingled fire, rudeness, pride, 
 meanness, and ferocity of his character,^ concur in making it 
 credible that he was fit to plan and carry on an ambitious and 
 daring scheme of imposture, similar instances of which have 
 not been wanting in higher spheres, in the history of different 
 countries, and have had a considerable degree of success. 
 
 Yet, on the other hand, to the companion of Johnson, (who, 
 through whatever medium he was conveyed into this world — 
 be it ever so doubtful " To whom related, or by whom begot/' 
 was, unquestionably, a man of no common endowments,) we 
 must allow the weight of general repute as to his Stains or 
 parentage, though illicit ; and supposing him to be an impostor, 
 it seems strange that Lord Tyrconnel, the nephew of Lady 
 Macclesfield, should patronise him, and even admit him as 
 a guest in his family.^ Lastly, it must ever appear very 
 
 ^ [This is decisive : if Savage was what he represented himself to be, no- 
 thing could have prevented his recovering his legacy. — Croker.] 
 
 - Johnson's companion appears to have persuaded that lofty-minded man, 
 that he resembled him in having a noble pride ; for Johnson, after painting in 
 strong colours the quarrel between Lord Tyrconnel and Savage, asserts that 
 " the spirit of Mr. Savage, indeed, never suffered him to solicit a reconcilia- 
 tion : he returned reproach for reproach, and insult for insult." But the 
 respectable gentleman to whom I have alluded, has in his possession a letter 
 from Savage, after Lord Tyrconnel had discarded him, addressed to the 
 Reverend Mr. Gilbert, his Lordship's Chaplain, in which he requests him, in 
 the humblest manner, to represent his case to the Viscount. 
 
 2 Trusting to Savage's information, Johnson represents this unhappy man's 
 being received as a companion by Lord Tyrconnel, and pensioned by his 
 Lordship, as posteriour to Savages conviction and pardon. But I am assured, 
 that Savage had received the voluntary bounty of Lord Tyrconnel, and had 
 been dismissed by him long before the murder was committed, and that his 
 Lordship was very instrumental in procuring Savage's pardon, by his interces- 
 sion with the Queen, through Lady Hertford. If, therefore, he had been 
 desirous of preventing the publication by Savage, he would have left him to 
 his fate. Indeed I must observe, that although Johnson mentions that Lord 
 Tyrconnel's patronage of Savage was " upon his promise to lay aside his
 
 124 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1744-45- 
 
 suspicious, that three different accounts of the Life of Richard 
 Savage, one published in "The Plain Dealer," in 1724, another 
 in 1727, and another by the powerful pen of Johnson, in 1744, 
 and all of them while Lady Macclesfield was alive, should, not- 
 withstanding the severe attacks upon her, have been suffered to 
 pass without any publick and effectual contradiction, 
 
 I have thus endeavoured to sum up the evidence upon the 
 case, as fairly as I can ; and the result seems to be, that the 
 world must vibrate in a state of uncertainty as to what was 
 the truth. 
 
 This digression, I trust, will not be censured, as it relates to a 
 matter exceedingly curious, and very intimately connected with 
 Johnson, both as a man and an authour.^ 
 
 He this year wrote " the Preface to the Harleian Miscellany." * 
 The selection of the pamphlets of which it was composed was 
 
 design of exposing the cruelty of his mother," the great biographer has for- 
 gotten that he himself has mentioned, that Savage's story had been told 
 several years before in "The Plain Dealer;" from which he quotes this 
 strong saying of the generous Sir Richard Steele, that the "inhumanity of his 
 mother had given him a right to find every good man his father." At the 
 same time it must be acknowleged, that Lady Macclesfield and her relations 
 might still wish that her story should not be brought into more conspicuous 
 notice by the satirical pen of Savage. [Steele at one time, believing Savage's 
 story, tried to befriend him, and had to give him up. He then became the 
 author of a lie or two against Steele.] 
 
 1 Miss Mason, after having forfeited the title of Lady Macclesfield by 
 divorce, was married to Colonel Brett, and, it is said, was well known in all 
 the polite circles. Colley Cibber, I am informed, had so high an opinion of 
 her taste and judgment as to genteel life and manners, that he submitted 
 every scene of his " Careless Husband " to Mrs. Brett's revisal and correction. 
 Colonel Brett was reported to be free in his gallantry with his Lady's Maid. 
 Mrs. Brett came into a room one day in her own house, and found the 
 Colonel and her maid both fast asleep in two chairs. She tied a Avhite 
 handkerchief round her husband's neck, which was a sufficient proof that she 
 had discovered his intrigue ; but she never at any time took notice of it to 
 him. This incident, as I am told, gave occasion to the well-wrought scene 
 of Sir Charles and Lady Easy and Edging. 
 
 [Lady Macclesfield died 1753, aged above 80. Her eldest daughter, by 
 Col. Brett, was, for the few last months of his life, the mistress of George 1. 
 (See Walpole's Remitiiscences^ Her marriage ten years after her royal 
 lover's death is thus announced in the Gent. Mag. 1737:^" Sept. 17. Sir 
 W. Leman, of Northall, Bart., to Miss Brett of Bond Street, an heiress ; " and 
 again ne.xt month — " Oct. 8. Sir William Leman, of Northall, Baronet, to 
 Miss Brett, half sister to Mr. Savage, son to the late Earl Rivers ; " for the 
 difterence of date I know not how to account ; but the second insertion was, 
 no doubt, made by Savage to countenance his own pretensions. — Croker.]
 
 Age 35-36.] PROPOSAL TO EDIT SHAKESPEARE. 125 
 
 made by Mr. Oldys,^ a man of eager curiosity, and indefatigable 
 diligence, who first exerted that spirit of inquiry into the litera- 
 ture of the old English writers, by which the works of our great 
 dramatic poet have of late been so signally illustrated. 
 
 In 1745 he published a pamphlet entitled, "Miscellaneous 
 Observations on the Tragedy of Macbeth, with Remarks on 
 Sir T. H.'s (Sir Thomas Hanmer's) Edition of Shakspeare." *- 
 To which he affixed, proposals for a new edition of that 
 poet. 
 
 As we do not trace any thing else published by him during 
 the course of this year, we may conjecture^ that he was occupied 
 entirely with that work. But the little encouragement which 
 was given by the publick to his anonymous proposals for the 
 execution of a task which Warburton was known to have under- 
 taken, probably damped his ardour. His pamphlet, however, 
 was highly esteemed, and was fortunate enough to obtain the 
 approbation even of the supercilious Warburton himself, who, in 
 the Preface to his Shakspeare published two years afterwards, 
 thus mentioned it : " As to all those things which have been 
 published under the titles of Essays, Remarks, Observations, &c., 
 on Shakspeare, if you except some Critical Notes on Macbeth, 
 given as a specimen of a projected edition, and written, as 
 appears, by a man of parts and genius, the rest are absolutely 
 below a serious notice." 
 
 Of this flattering distinction shewn to him by Warburton, a 
 very grateful remembrance was ever entertained by Johnson, 
 who said, " He praised me at a time when praise was of 
 value to me." 
 
 In 1746 it is probable that he was still employed upon his 
 
 1 [William Oldys was born in 1696. In 1737 he published The British 
 Librarian ; an Abstract of our most scarce, useful, and valuable Books; 
 and, in 1738, a Life of Sir Walter Raleigh. He also contributed several 
 articles to the General Dictionary and the Biographia Britannica. He died 
 in 1761. — Wright.] 
 
 2 [Sir Thomas Hanmer was born in 1676. He was Speaker of the 
 House of Commons in Queen Anne's last parhament, and died May 5, 1746. 
 His Shakespeare, in six volumes quarto, was published in 1744.— WRIGHT.] 
 
 ^ [Johnson's inactivity as a writer in 1745 and 1746 has been ascribed to a 
 more than passive sympathy with the Rebellion of '45.]
 
 126 
 
 BOSIVELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSOA\ 
 
 [1746-47. 
 
 Shakspeare, which perhaps he laid aside for a time, upon 
 account of the high expectations which were formed of War- 
 burton's edition of that great poet. It is somewhat curious, 
 that his hterary career appears to have been almost totally 
 suspended in the years 1745 and 1746, those years which were 
 marked by a civil war in Great Britain, when a rash attempt was 
 made to restore the House of Stuart to the throne. That he had 
 a tenderness for that unfortunate House, is well known ; and 
 some may fancifully imagine, that a sympathetick anxiety im- 
 peded the exertion of his intellectual powers : but I am inclined 
 to think, that he was, during this time, sketching the outlines 
 of his great philological work. 
 
 None of his letters during those years are extant, so far as I 
 can discover. This is much to be regretted. It might afford 
 seme entertainment to see how he then expressed himself to his 
 private friends concerning State affairs. Dr. Adams informs 
 me, that "at this time a favourite object which he had in con- 
 templation was 'The Life of Alfred;' in which, from the warmth 
 with which he spoke about it, he would, I believe, had he been 
 master of his own will, have engaged himself, rather than on 
 any other subject." 
 
 In 1747 it is supposed that the Gentleman's Magazine for 
 May was enriched by him with five short poetical pieces, 
 distinguished by three asterisks. The first is a translation, or 
 rather a paraphrase, of a Latin Epitaph on Sir Thomas Hanmer. 
 Whether the Latin was his, or not, I have never heard, though 
 I should think it probably was, if it be certain that he wrote the 
 English ; as to which my only cause of doubt is, that his slight- 
 ing character of Hanmer as an editor, in his " Observations on 
 Macbeth," is very different from that in the Epitaph. It may 
 be said, that there is the same contrariety between the character 
 in the Observations, and that in his own Preface to Shakspeare ; 
 but a considerable time elapsed between the one publication 
 and the other, whereas the Observations and the Epitaph came 
 
 close together. The others are, " To Miss , on her giving 
 
 the Authour a gold and silk net-work Purse of her own 
 
 weaving;" "Stella in Mourning;" "The Winter's Walk;" 
 
 'An Ode;" and "To Lyce, an elderly Lady." I am not
 
 AGE37-3S-] SYMPATHY WITH THE REBELLION. 127 
 
 positive that all these were his productions;^ but as "The 
 Winter's Walk " has never been controverted to be his, and all 
 of them have the same mark, it is reasonable to conclude that 
 they are all written by the same hand. Yet to the Ode, in 
 which we find a passage very characteristick of him, being a 
 learned description of the gout, 
 
 " Unhappy, whom to beds of pain 
 Arlhritic/c tyranny consigns;" 
 
 there is the following note, " The authour being ill of the gout ; " 
 but Johnson was not attacked with that distemper till a very 
 late period of his life. May not this, however, be a poetical 
 fiction .? Why may not a poet suppose himself to have the 
 gout, as well as suppose himself to be in love, of which we have 
 innumerable instances, and which has been admirably ridiculed 
 by Johnson in his " Life of Cowley ? " I have also some difficulty 
 to believe that he could produce such a group of conceits as 
 appear in the verses to Lyce, in which he claims for this ancient 
 personage as good a right to be assimilated to heaven, as nymphs 
 whom other poets have flattered ; he therefore ironically ascribes 
 to her the attributes of the sky, in such stanzas as this : 
 
 '•' Her teeth the night with darkness dies, 
 She's starr'd y^'iih. pimples o'er; 
 Her tongue like nimble i/g/itning plies, 
 And can with tliundcr roar. " 
 
 Eut as at a very advanced age he could condescend to trifle in 
 namby-pamby rhymes to please Mrs, Thrale and her daughter, he 
 may have, in his earlier years, composed such a piece as this. 
 
 It is remarkable, that in this first edition of " The Winter's 
 Walk," the concluding line is much more Johnsonian than it was 
 
 ^ [In the Universal V'isiter, to which Johnson contributed, the mark 
 which is affixed to some pieces unquestionably his, is also found subjoined to 
 others, of which he certainly was r.ot the authour. The mark therefore will 
 not ascertain the poems in question to have been written by him. Some of 
 them were probably the productions of Hawkesworth, who, it is believed, was 
 afflicted with the gout. The verses on a purse were inserted afterwards 
 in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies, and are, unquestionably, Johnson's. — 
 Malone.]
 
 I2S 
 
 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1747- 
 
 afterwards printed ; for in subsequent additions, after praying 
 Stella to "■ snatch him to her arms," he says, 
 
 "And shield me from the ills of life.'' 
 
 Whereas in the first edition it is 
 
 " And hide me from the sight of life." 
 
 A horrour at life in general is more consonant with Johnson's 
 habitual gloomy cast of thought. 
 
 I have heard him repeat with great energy the following 
 verses, which appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine for April 
 this year ; but I have no authority to say they were his own. 
 Indeed one of the best criticks of our age suggests to me, that 
 " the word iiidifferently being used in the sense of without concern, 
 and being also very unpoetical, renders it improbable that they 
 should have been his composition." 
 
 " On Lord Lovat's Execuiioft. 
 
 " Pity'd hy gentle minds Kilmarnock died ; 
 The brave, Balmerino, were on thy side; 
 Radcliffe, unhappy in his crimes of youth, 
 Steady in what he still mistook for truth, 
 Beheld his death so decently unmov'd, 
 The soft lamented, and the brave approv'd. 
 But Lovat's fate indifferently we view. 
 True to no King, to no religion true : 
 "Ho fair forgets the ruin he has done ; 
 No (t/z/A/ laments the tyrant of his so7i ; 
 No tory pities, thinking what he was ; 
 No whig compassions, y't'r he left the cause ; 
 The brave regret not, for he was not brave ; 
 The honest mourn not, knowing him a knave ! ''^ 
 
 1 These verses are somewhat too severe on the extraordinary person who 
 is the chief figure in them ; for he was undoubtedly brave. His pleasantry 
 during his solemn trial (in which, by the way, I have heard Mr. David Hume 
 observe, that we have one of the very lew speeches of Mr. Murray, now Earl 
 of Mansfield, authentically given) was very remarkable. When asked if he 
 had any questions to put to Sir Everard Fawkencr, who was one of the 
 strongest witnesses against him, he answered, " 1 only wish him joy of his 
 young wife." And after sentence of death, in the horrible terms in such cases 
 of treason, was pronounced upon him, and he was retiring from the bar, he 
 said, " Fare you well, my Lords, we shall not all meet again in one place." 
 He behaved with perfect composure at his execution, and called out, '■'■ Dnlce 
 et decorum est pro patrid mori^
 
 Age 38.] PROLOGUE FOR DRURY LANE. 129 
 
 This year his old pupil and friend, David Garrick, having 
 become joint patentee and manager of Drury-Iane theatre, 
 Johnson honoured his opening of it with a Prologue,* which 
 for just and manly dramatick criticism on the whole range of the 
 English stage, as well as for poetical excellence,^ is unrivalled- 
 Like the celebrated Epilogue to the " Distressed Mother," - it 
 was, during the season, often called for by the audience. The 
 most striking and brilliant passages of it have been so often 
 repeated, and are so well recollected by all the lovers of the 
 drama, and of poetry, that it would be superfluous to point them 
 out. — In the Gentleman's Magazine for December this year, he 
 inserted an " Ode on Winter," which is, I think, an admirable 
 specimen of his genius for lyrick poetry. 
 
 But the year 1747 is distinguished as the epoch, when 
 Johnson's arduous and important work, his DICTIONARY OF 
 THE English Language, was announced to the world, by 
 the publication of its Plan or PROSPECTUS. 
 
 How long this immense undertaking had been the object of 
 his contemplation, I do not know. I once asked him by what 
 means he had attained to that astonishing knowledge of our 
 language, by which he was enabled to realize a design of such 
 extent and accumulated difficulty. He told me, that " it was 
 not the effect of particular study ; but that it had grown up 
 in his mind insensibly." I have been informed by Mr. James 
 Dodsley, that several years before this period, when Johnson 
 was one day sitting in his brother Robert's shop, he heard his 
 
 ^ My friend Mr. Courtnay, whose eulogy on Johnson's Latin Poetry has 
 been inserted in this Work, is no less happy in praising his English Poetry. 
 
 But hark, he sings ! the strain even Pope admires ; 
 
 Indignant virtue her own bard inspires, 
 
 Sublime as Juvenal he pours his lays, 
 
 And with the Roman shares congenial praise : — 
 
 In glowing numbers now he fires the age, 
 
 And Shakspeare's sun relumes the clouded stage. 
 
 2 ["In 17 1 2, Ambrose Philips brought upon the stage, The Distressed 
 Mother, almost a translation of Racine's Androtnaqtie. It was concluded 
 with the most successful epilogue that was ever yet spoken on the English 
 theatre. The three first nights it was recited twice, and continued to be 
 demanded through the run, as it is termed, of the plav." — Johnson, Life of 
 A. /'/^z7z>.— Wright.] 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 i-,o •.;:• BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1747. 
 
 brother suggest to him, that a Dictionary of the English 
 Language would be a work that would be well received by the 
 publick ; that Johnson seemed at first to catch at the proposi- 
 tion ; but, after a pause, said, in his abrupt decisive manner, " I 
 believe I shall not undertake it." That he, however, had be- 
 stowed much thought upon the subject, before he published 
 his "Plan," is evident from the enlarged, clear, and accurate 
 views which it exhibits ; and we find him mentioning in that 
 tract, that many of the writers whose testimonies were to be 
 produced as authorities, were selected by Pope ; which proves 
 that he had been furnished, probably by Mr. Robert Dodsley, 
 with whatever hints that eminent poet had contributed towards 
 a great literary project, that had been the subject of important 
 consideration in a former reign. 
 
 The booksellers who contracted with Johnson, single and 
 unaided, for the execution of a work, which in other countries 
 has not been effected but by the co-operating exertions of many, 
 were Mr. Robert Dodsley, Mr. Charles Hitch, Mr. Andrew 
 Millar, the two Messieurs Longman, and the two Messieurs 
 Knapton. The price stipulated was fifteen hundred and 
 seventy-five pounds. 
 
 The " Plan " was addressed to Philip Dormer, Earl of Chester- 
 field, then one of his Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State ; 
 a nobleman who was very ambitious of literary distinction, and 
 who, upon being informed of the design, had expressed himself 
 in terms very favourable to its success. There is, perhaps, in 
 every thing of any consequence, a secret history which it would 
 be amusing to know, could we have it authentically communi- 
 cated. Johnson told me,^ " Sir, the way in which the plan of my 
 Dictionary came to be inscribed to Lord Chesterfield, was this : 
 I had neglected to write it by the time appointed. Dodsley 
 suo-o-csted a desire to have it addressed to Lord Chesterfield. I 
 laid hold of this as a pretext for delay, that it might be better 
 done, and let Dodsley have his desire. I said to my friend, Dr. 
 Bathurst, ' Now if any good comes of my addressing to Lord 
 
 1 September 22, 1777, going from Ashbourne in Derbyshire, to see Islam.
 
 Age 38.] PLAN OF THE DICTIONARY. 131 
 
 Chesterfield, it will be ascribed to deep policy, when, in fact, it 
 was only a casual excuse for laziness.' " 
 
 It is worthy of observation, that the " Plan " has not only the 
 substantial merit of comprehension, perspicuity, and precision, 
 but that the language of it is unexceptionably excellent ; it being 
 altogether free from that inflation of style, and those uncommon 
 but apt and energetick words, which in some of his writings 
 have been censured, with more petulance than justice ; and never 
 was there a more dignified strain of compliment than that in 
 which he courts the attention of one, who, he had been persuaded 
 to believe, would be a respectable patron. 
 
 " With regard to questions of purity or propriety, (says he) I 
 was once in doubt whether I should not attribute to myself too 
 much in attempting to decide them, and whether my province 
 was to extend beyond the proposition of the question, and the 
 display of the suffrages on each side ; but I have been since 
 determined, by your Lordship's opinion, to interpose my own 
 judgement, and shall therefore endeavour to support what appears 
 to me most consonant to grammar and reason. Ausonius 
 thought that modesty forbade him to plead inability for a task 
 to which Caesar had judged him equal : 
 
 Cur me posse negent, posse quod ille putat ? 
 
 And I may h-ope, my Lord, that since you, whose authority in 
 our language is so generally acknowledged, have commissioned 
 me to declare my own opinion, I shall be considered as exercising 
 a kind of vicarious jurisdiction : and that the power which might 
 have been denied to my own claim, will be readily allowed me 
 as the delegate of your Lordship." 
 
 This passage proves, that Johnson's addressing his " Plan " to 
 Lord Chesterfield was not merely in consequence of the result 
 of a report by means of Dodsley, that the Earl favoured the 
 design ; but that there had been a particular communication 
 with his Lordship concerning it. Dr. Taylor told me, that 
 Johnson sent his " Plan " to him in manuscript, for his perusal ; 
 and that when it was lying upon his table, Mr. William White- 
 head happened to pay him a visit, and being shewn it, was highly 
 pleased with such parts of it as he had time to read, and begged 
 
 K 3
 
 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1747- 
 
 to take it home with him, which he was allowed to do ; that 
 from him it got into the hands of a noble Lord, who carried it 
 to Lord Chesterfield. When Taylor observed this might be an 
 advantage, Johnson replied, " No, Sir, it would have come out 
 with more bloom, if it had not been seen before by any body." 
 
 The opinion conceived of it by another noble authour appears 
 from the following extract of a letter from the Earl of Orrery i 
 to Dr. Birch :— 
 
 " Caledon, Dec. 30, 1747. 
 " I HAVE just now seen the specimen of Mr. Johnson's 
 Dictionary, addressed to Lord Chesterfield. I am much pleased 
 with the plan, and I think the specimen is one of the best that 
 I have ever read. Most specimens disgust rather than prejudice 
 us in favour of the work to follow ; but the language of Mr. 
 Johnson's is good, and the arguments are properly and modestly 
 expressed. However, some expressions may be cavilled at, but 
 they are trifles. I'll mention one : the bari'en laurel. The laurel 
 is not barren, in any sense whatever ; it bears fruits and flowers. 
 Sed JicB sunt iiiigce, and I have great expectations from the per- 
 formance." - 
 
 That he was fully aware of the arduous nature of the under- 
 taking, he acknowledges; and shews himself perfectly sensible of 
 it in the conclusion of his " Plan ; " but he had a noble conscious- 
 ness of his own abilities, which enabled him to go on with 
 undaunted spirit. 
 
 Dr. Adams found him one day busy at his Dictionary, when 
 the following dialogue ensued. — " ADAMS. This is a great work. 
 Sir. How are you to get all the etymologies } JOHNSON, 
 Why, Sir, here is a shelf with Junius, and Skinner, and others ; 
 
 ^ [John Boyle, born in 1707; educated first under the private tuition of 
 Fenton the poet, and afterwards at Westminster school and Christchurch 
 College, Oxford; succeeded his father as fifth Earl of Orrery in 1737; 
 D.C.L. of Oxford in 1743; F.R.S. in 1750 ; and, on the death of his cousin, 
 in 1753, fifth Earl of Cork. He published several ^vorks, but, the only 
 original one of any note is his Life of Swift, written with great professions 
 of friendship, but, in fact, with considerable severity towards the dean. 
 Lord Orrery's influence may have tended to increase Johnson's dislike of 
 Swift. Lord Orrery's estate was much encumbered, and his pecuniary cir- 
 cumstances much embarrassed. " If he had been rich," said Johnson {post, 
 22nd Sept., 1773), "he would have been a very liberal patron." — Croker.] 
 
 2 Birch MSS. Brit. Mus. 4303.
 
 Age 38.] PLAN OF THE DICTIONARY. 133 
 
 and there is a Welch gentleman who has published a collection 
 of Welch proverbs, who will help me with the Welch. ADAMS. 
 But, Sir, how can you do this in three years } JOHNSON. Sir, 
 I have no doubt that I can do it in three years. ADAMS. But 
 the French Academy, which consists of forty members, took 
 forty years to compile their Dictionary. JOHNSON. Sir, thus 
 it is. This is the proportion. Let me see ; forty times forty is 
 sixteen hundred. As three to sixteen hundred, so is the pro- 
 portion of an Englishman to a Frenchman." With so much 
 ease and pleasantry could he talk of that prodigious labour 
 which he had undertaken to execute. 
 
 The publick has had, from another pen,^ a long detail of what 
 had been done in this country by prior Lexicographers ; and no 
 doubt Johnson was wise, to avail himself of them, so far as they 
 went : but the learned, yet judicious research of etymology, the 
 various, yet accurate display of definition, and the rich collection 
 of authorities, were reserved for the superior mind of our great 
 philologist. For the mechanical part he employed, as he told 
 me, six amanuenses ; and let it be remembered by the natives 
 of North-Britain, to whom he is supposed to have been so hostile, 
 that five of them were of that country. There were two Messieurs 
 Macbean ;- Mr. Shiels, who, we shall hereafter see, partly wrote 
 the Lives of the Poets, to which the name of Gibber is affixed : ^ 
 Mr. Stewart, son of Mr. George Stewart, bookseller at Edin- 
 burgh; and a Mr. Maitland. The sixth of these humble 
 assistants was Mr. Peyton, who, I believe, taught French, and 
 published some elementary tracts. 
 
 To all these painful labourers Johnson shewed a never-ceasing 
 kindness, so far as they stood in need of it. The elder Mr. 
 Macbean had afterwards the honour of being Librarian to 
 Archibald, Duke of Argyle, for many years, but was left without 
 a shilling. Johnson wrote for him a Preface to "A System of 
 Ancient Geography:" and, by the favour of Lord Thurlow, got 
 
 ^ See Sir John Hawkins's Life of Johnson. [Sir John Hawkins's I'st of 
 former EngHsh Dictionaries is, however, by no means complete. — Malone.] 
 
 2 [Alexander and William, both authours by profession, and both poor. — 
 Chalmers.] 
 
 2 See under April 10, 1776. *
 
 '34 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1747-48. 
 
 him admitted a poor brother of the Charterhouse. For Shiels, 
 who died of a consumption, he had much tenderness ; and it has 
 been thought that some choice sentences in the Lives of the 
 Poets were supplied by him.^ Peyton, when reduced to penury, 
 had frequent aid from the bounty of Johnson, who at last was 
 at the expence of burying him and his wife. 
 
 While the Dictionary was going forward, Johnson lived part of 
 the time in Holborn, part in Gough-square, Fleet-street ; and he 
 had an upper room fitted up like a counting-house for the pur- 
 pose, in which he gave to the copyists their several tasks. The 
 words partly taken from other dictionaries, and partly supplied 
 by himself, having been first written down with spaces left between 
 them, he delivered in writing their etymologies, definitions, and 
 various significations.^ The authorities were copied from the 
 books themselves, in which he had marked the passages with a 
 black-lead pencil, the traces of which could easily be effaced.=^ 
 I have seen several of them, in which that trouble had not been 
 taken ; so that they were just as when used by the copyists. It 
 is remarkable that he was so attentive in the choice of the pas- 
 sages in which words were authorised, that one may read page 
 after page of his Dictionary with improvement and pleasure ; 
 and it should not pass unobserved, that he has quoted no 
 authour whose writings had a tendency to hurt sound religion 
 and morality. 
 
 The necessary expence of preparing a work of such magnitude 
 for the press, must have been a considerable deduction from the 
 
 1 [Shiels was the chief author of Theophilus Gibber's Lives of the Poeis.] 
 - [Boswell's account of the manner in which Johnson compiled his 
 Dictionary is confused and erroneous. He began his task (as he himself 
 expressly described to me), by devoting his first care to a diligent perusal of 
 all such English writers as were most correct in their language, and under 
 every sentence which he meant to quote he drew a line, and noted in the 
 margin the first letter of the word under which it was to occur. He then 
 delivered these books to his clerks, who transcribed each sentence on a 
 separate slip of paper, and arranged the same under the word referred to. 
 By these means he collected the several words and their different significa- 
 tions; and when the whole arrangement was alphabetically formed, he gave 
 the definitions of their meanings, and collected their etymologies from 
 Skinner, Junius, and other writers on the subject. — PERCY.] 
 
 3 [Johnson's copy of Hudibras. 1726, with the passages thus marked on 
 every page, is now in Mr. Upcott's collection. It has Johnson's signature, 
 dated .Aug. 1747. — Wright.]
 
 Age 38-39-] DICTIONARY-MAKING IN GOUGH-SQUARE 135 
 
 price stipulated to be paid for the copyright. I understand that 
 nothing was allowed by the booksellers on that account ; and I 
 remember his telling me, that a large portion of it having, by 
 mistake, been written upon both sides of the paper, so as to be 
 inconvenient for the compositor, it cost him twenty pounds to 
 have it transcribed upon one side only. 
 
 He is now to be considered as " tugging at his oar," as engaged 
 in a steady continued course of occupation, sufficient to employ 
 all his time for some years ; and which was the best preventive 
 of that constitutional melancholy which was ever lurking about 
 him, ready to trouble his quiet. But his enlarged and lively 
 mind could not be satisfied without more diversity of employ- 
 ment, and the pleasure of animated relaxation.^ He therefore 
 not only exerted his talents in occasional composition, v^ery 
 different from Lexicography, but formed a club in Ivy-lane, 
 Paternoster- row, with a view to enjoy literary discussion, and 
 amuse his evening hours. The members associated with him in 
 this little society were, his beloved friend Dr. Richard Bathurst, 
 Mr. Hawkesworth, afterwards well known by his writings, Mr. 
 John Hawkins, an attorney,^ and a few others of different 
 professions.^ 
 
 ^ [For the sake of relaxation from his Hterary labours, and probably, also, 
 for Mrs. Johnson's health, he this summer visited Tunbridge Wells, then a 
 place of much greater resort than it is at present. Here he met Mr. Gibber, 
 Mr. Garrick, Mr. Samuel Richardson, Mr. Whiston, Mr. Onslow, (the 
 Speaker,) Mr. Pitt, Mr. Lyttelton, and several other distinguished persons. 
 In a print, representing some of " the remarkable characters " who were at 
 Tunbridge Wells in 1748, and copied from a drawing of the same size, (See 
 Richardson's Correspondence,) Dr. Johnson stands the first figure. — 
 Malone.] 
 
 ^ He was afterwards for several years Chairman of the Middlesex Justices, 
 and upon occasion of presenting an address to the King, accepted the usual 
 offer of Knighthood. He is authour of "A History of Musick," in five 
 volumes in quarto. By assiduous attendance upon Johnson in his last illness, 
 he obtained the office of one of his executors ; in consequence of Avhich, the 
 booksellers of London employed him to publish an edition of Dr. Johnson's 
 works, and to write his Life. 
 
 2 [Sir John Hawkins says: "The club met weekly at the King's Head, 
 a famous beef-steak house, in Ivy Lane, every Tuesday evening. Thither 
 Johnson constantly resorted, and, with a disposition to please and be pleased, 
 would pass those hours in a free and unrestrained interchange of sentiments, 
 which otherwise had been spent at home in painful reflection. The persons 
 who composed this little society were — the Rev. Dr. Salter, father of the late 
 Master of the Charterhouse ; Dr. Hawkesworth ; Mr. Ryland, a merchant ;
 
 136 BOSWELnS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1748. 
 
 In the Gentleman's Magazine for May of this year he wrote a 
 " Life of Roscommon," * with Notes ; which he afterwards much 
 improved, (indenting the notes into text,) and inserted amongst 
 his Lives of the EngHsh Poets. 
 
 Mr. John Payne, then a bookseller ; Mr. Samuel Dyer, a learned young man 
 intended for the dissenting ministry ; Dr. William M'Ghie, a Scoti physician ; 
 Dr. Edmund Barker, a young physician ; Dr. Richard Bathurst, also a young 
 physician ; and myself. — At these meetings I had ojponunitics of observing, 
 not only that in conversation Johnson made it a rule to talk his best, but 
 that on many subjects he was not uniform in his opinions, contending as 
 often for victory as for truth. At one time good, at another evil, was pre- 
 dominant in the moral constitution of the world. Upon one occasion, he 
 would deplore the non-observance of Good Friday, and on another deny 
 that among us of the present age there is any decline of public worship. He 
 would sometimes contradict self-evident propositions, such as, that the 
 luxury of this country has increased with its riches ; and that the practice of 
 card-playing is more general than heretofore. At this versatility of temper 
 none, however, took offence : as Alexander and Cassar were born for conquest, 
 so was Johnson for the office of a symposiarch, to preside in all conversa- 
 tions ; and I never yet saw the man who would venture to contest his right. 
 —Let it not, however, be imagined, that the members of this our club met 
 together with the temper of gladiators, or that there was wanting among 
 them a disposition to yield to each other in all diversities of opinion : and, 
 indeed, disputation was not, as in many associations of this kind, the purpose 
 of the meeting ; nor were their conversations, like those of the Rota Club, 
 restrained to particular topics. On the contrary, it may be said, that with 
 the gravest discourses was intermingled 'mirth that after no repenting 
 draws' (Milton); for not only in Johnson's melancholy there were lucid 
 intervals, but he was a great contributor to the mirth of conversation, by the 
 many witty sayings he uttered, and the many excellent stories which his 
 memory had treasured up, and he would on occasion relate ; so that those 
 are greatly mistaken who infer, either from the general tendency of his 
 writings, or that appearance of hebetude which marked his countenance 
 when living, and is discernible in the pictures and prints of him, that he 
 could only reason and discuss, dictate and control. In the talent of humour 
 there hardly ever was his equal, except, perhaps, among the old comedians, 
 such as Tarleton, and a few others mentioned by Gibber. By means of this 
 he was enabled to give to any relation that required it, the graces and aids 
 of expression, and to discriminate, with the nicest exactness, the characters 
 of those whom it concerned. In aping this faculty, I have seen Warburton 
 disconcerted, and when he would fain have been thought a man of pleasantry, 
 not a little out of countenance." — Life, p. 257. 
 
 Mr. Murphy, a better judge than Sir J. Hawkins, tells us, to the same 
 effect, that " Johnson was surprised to be told, but it was certainly true, that 
 with all his great powers of mind, wit and humour were his most shining 
 talents;" and Mrs. Piozzi says, that "his vein of humour was rich and 
 apparently inexhaustible — to such a degree that Mr. Murphy used to say he 
 was incomparable at buffoonery." This should be borne in mind in reading 
 Johnson's conversations, because much of that peculiarity called humour 
 cannot be adequately conveyed in words, and many things may appear trite, 
 dull, or offensively rude in mere narration, which were enlivened or softened 
 by the air and style of the delivery. — Croker.]
 
 I 
 
 Age 39-40.] " THE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES:' 137 
 
 Mr. Dodsley this year brought out his PRECEPTOR, one of the 
 most valuable books for the improvement of young minds that 
 has appeared in any language ; and to this meritorious work 
 Johnson furnished " The Preface," * containing a general sketch 
 of the book, with a short and perspicuous recommendation of 
 each article ; as also, " The Vision of Theodore, the Hermit, 
 found in his Cell," * a most beautiful allegory of human life, 
 under the figure of ascending the mountain of Existence. The 
 Bishop of Dromore heard Dr. Johnson say, that he thought 
 this was the best thing he ever wrote. 
 
 In January, 1749, he published "The VANITY OF HUMAN 
 Wishes, being the Tenth Satire of Juvenal imitated." * He, I 
 believe, composed it the preceding year.^ Mrs. Johnson, for the 
 sake of country air, had lodgings at Hampstead, to which he 
 resorted occasionally, and there the greatest part, if not the 
 whole, of this imitation was written. The fervid rapidity with 
 which it was produced is scarcely credible. I have heard him 
 say, that he composed seventy lines of it in one day, without 
 putting one of them upon paper till they were finished. I 
 remember when I once regretted to him that he had not given 
 us more of Juvenal's Satires, he said, he probably should give 
 more, for he had them all in his head ; by which I understood, 
 that he had the originals and correspondent allusions floating in 
 his mind, which he could, when he pleased, embody and render 
 permanent without much labour. Some of them, however, he 
 observed, were too gross for imitation. 
 
 The profits of a single poem, however excellent, appear to 
 have been very small in the last reign, compared with what a 
 publication of the same size has since been known to yield. 
 I have mentioned upon Johnson's own authority, that for his 
 London he had only ten guineas ; and now, after his fame 
 was established, he got for his "Vanity of Human Wishes" 
 but five guineas more, as is proved by an authentick document 
 in my possession.^ 
 
 1 Sir John Hawkins, with solemn inaccuracy, represents this poem as a 
 consequence of the indifferent reception of his tragedy. But the fact is, that 
 the poem was published on the 9th of January, and the tragedy was not acted 
 till the 6th of the February following. 
 
 •2 "Nov. 25, 1748, I received of Mr. Dodsley fifteen guineas, for which I
 
 i.^S BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1749. 
 
 It will be observed, that he reserves to himself the right of 
 printing one edition of this satire, which was his practice upon 
 occasion of the sale of all his writings; it being his fixed 
 intention to publish at some period, for his own profit, a 
 complete collection of his w^orks. 
 
 His "Vanity of Human Wishes" has less of common life, but 
 more of a philosophick dignity than his "London." More 
 readers, therefore, will be delighted with the pointed spirit of 
 "London," than with the profound reflection of "The Vanity of 
 Human Wishes." Garrick, for instance, observed in his sprightly 
 manner, with more vivacity than regard to just discrimination, 
 as is usual with wits, "When Johnson lived much with the 
 Herveys, and saw a good deal of what was passing in life, he 
 wrote his ' London,' which is lively and easy : when he became 
 more retired, he gave us his 'Vanity of Human Wishes,' which 
 is as hard as Greek. Had he gone on to imitate another satire, 
 it would have been as hard as Hebrew." ^ 
 
 But "The Vanity of Human Wishes" is, in the opinion of the 
 best judges, as high an effort of ethick poetry as any language 
 can shew. The instances of variety of disappointment are 
 chosen so judiciously, and painted so strongly, that, the moment 
 they are read, they bring conviction to every thinking mind. 
 
 That of the scholar must have depressed the too sanguine 
 expectations of many an ambitious student.^ That of the 
 
 assign to him the right of copy of an Imitation of the Tenth Satire of 
 Juvenal, written by me, reserving to myself the right of printing one edition. 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " London, 29 June, 1786. A true copy, from the original in Dr. Johnson's 
 handwriting. 
 
 "Ja^ Dodsley." 
 ^ From Mr. Langton. 
 
 - In this poem one of the instances mentioned of unfortunate learned men 
 is Lydiat : 
 
 " Here Lydiat's Life, and Galileo's end." 
 
 The History of Lydiat being little known, the following account of him may 
 be acceptable to many of my readers. It appeared as a note in the Supple- 
 ment to the Gentleman's Magazine for 1748, in which some passages ex- 
 tracted from Johnson's poem were inserted, and it should have been added in 
 the subsequent editions.-- "A very learned divine and mathematician, fellow 
 of New College, Oxon, and Rector of Okerlon, near Banbury. He wrote, 
 among many others, a Latin treatise * De Natura CceH, dr^c' in which he
 
 AGE39-40.] ''THE VANITY UF HUMAN WISHESy 139 
 
 warrior, Charles of Sweden, is, I think, as highly finished a 
 picture as can possibly be conceived. 
 
 Were all the other excellences of this poem annihilated, it 
 must ever have our grateful reverence from its noble conclusion ; 
 in which we are consoled with the assurance that happiness may 
 be attained, if we " apply our hearts " to piety : 
 
 " Where then shall hope and fear their objects find ? 
 Shall dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind ? 
 Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, 
 Roll darkhng down the torrent of his fate ? 
 Shall no dislike alarm, no wishes rise, 
 No cries attempt the mercy of the skies ? 
 Inquirer, cease ; petitions yet remain, 
 Which Heav'n may hear, nor deem Religion vain. 
 Still raise for good the supplicating voice, 
 But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice. 
 Safe in His hand, whose eye discern afar 
 The secret ambush of a specious pray'r ; 
 Implore his aid, in his decisions rest, 
 Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best : 
 Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires, 
 And strong devotion to the skies aspires, 
 Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, 
 Obedient passions, and a will resign'd ; 
 For love, which scarce collective man can fill ; 
 For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill : 
 For faith, which panting for a happier seat. 
 Counts death kind Nature's signal for retreat, 
 These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain, 
 These goods He grants, who grants the power to gain ; 
 With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, 
 And makes the happiness she does not find."^ 
 
 attacked the sentiments of Scaliger and Aristotle, not bearing to hear it 
 urged, that some tilings are true in philosophy, and false in divinity. He 
 made above six hundred Sermons on the harmony of the Evangelists. Being 
 unsuccessful in publishing his works, he lay in the prison of Bocardo at Oxford, 
 and in the King's Bench, till Bishop Usher, Dr. Laud, Sir William Boswell, 
 and Dr. Pink, released him by paying his debts. He petitioned King Charles I. 
 to be sent into Ethiopia, &;c. to procure MSS. Having spoken in favour 
 of Monarchy and bishops, he was plundered by the parliament forces, and 
 twice carried away prisoner from his rectory ; and afterwards had not a shirt 
 to shift him in three months, without he borrowed it, and died very poor in 
 1646." 
 
 1 [In this poem, a line in which the danger attending on female beauty is 
 mentioned, has very generally, I believe, been misunderstood : 
 
 " Yet \'ane could tell what ills from beauty spring, 
 And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king." 
 
 The lady mentioned in the first of these verses, was not the celebrated 
 Lady Vane, whose memoirs were given to the publick by Dr. Smollett, but
 
 I40 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1749. 
 
 Garrick being now vested with theatrical power by being 
 manager of Drury-Iane theatre, he kindly and generously made 
 use of it to bring out Johnson's tragedy, which had been long 
 kept back for want of encouragement. But in this benevolent 
 purpose he met with no small difficulty from the temper of 
 Johnson, which could not brook that a drama which he had 
 formed with much study, and had been obliged to keep more 
 than the nine years of Horace, should be revised and altered at 
 the pleasure of an actor. Yet Garrick knew well, that without 
 some alterations it would not be fit for the stage. A violent 
 dispute having ensued between them, Garrick applied to the 
 Reverend Dr. Taylor to interpose. Johnson was at first very 
 obstinate. " Sir, (said he) the fellow wants me to make Mahomet 
 run mad, that he may have an opportunity of tossing his hands 
 and kicking his heels." ^ He was, however, at last, with difficulty, 
 prevailed on to comply with Garrick's wishes, so as to allow of 
 some changes ; but still there were not enough. 
 
 Dr. Adams was present the first night of the representation of 
 Irene, and gave me the following account : " Before the curtain 
 drew up, there were catcalls whistling, which alarmed Johnson's 
 
 Anne Vane, who was mistress to Frederick, Prince of Wales, and died in 
 1736, not long before Johnson settled in London. Some account of this lady 
 was published, under the title of The Secret History of Vanella, 8vo. 1732. 
 See also Vanella in the Straw, 4to. 1732. In Mr. Boswell's Tour to the 
 Hebrides (p. 37, 4th edit.), we find some observations respecting the lines in 
 question : 
 
 " In Dr. Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes, there is the following 
 passage : 
 
 ' The teeming mother anxious for her race. 
 
 Begs for each birth the fortune of a face ; 
 
 Yet Vane,' &c. 
 
 " Lord Hailes told him Qohnson] he was mistaken in the instances he had 
 given of unfortunate fair ones, for neither Vane nor Sedley had a title to 
 that description." — His lordship therefore thought that the lines should rather 
 have run thus : — 
 
 " Yet Sho}-e could tell 
 
 And Valiere curs'd " 
 
 "Our friend (he added in a subsequent note, addressed to Mr. Boswell 
 on this subject) chose Vane, who was far from being well-look'd, and Sedley, 
 who was so ugly that Charles II. said — his brother had her by way of 
 penance." — Mai.ONE.] 
 
 ^ Mahomet was in fact played by Mr. Barry, and Demetrius by Mr. 
 Garrick : but probably at this time the parts were not yet cast.
 
 AGE39-40.] "IRENE'' AT DRURY LANE. 141 
 
 friends. The Prologue, which was written by himself in a manly- 
 strain, soothed the audience/ and the play went off tolerably, till 
 it came to the conclusion, when Mrs. Pritchard, the heroine of 
 the piece, was to be strangled upon the stage, and was to speak 
 two lines with the bow-string round her neck. The audience 
 cried out ' Murder ! Murder ! ' ^ She several times attempted 
 to speak ; but in vain. At last she was obliged to go off the 
 stage alive." This passage was afterwards struck out, and she 
 was carried off to be put to death behind the scenes, as the play 
 now has it. The Epilogue, as Johnson informed me, was written 
 by Sir William Yonge.^ I know not how his play came to be 
 thus graced by the pen of a person then so eminent in the 
 political world. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the support of such performers as Garrick, 
 Barry, Mrs. Gibber, Mrs. Pritchard, and every advantage of dress 
 and decoration, the tragedy of Irene did not please the publick.* 
 
 1 The expression used by Dr. Adams was "soothed." I should rather 
 think the audience was awed by the extraordinary spirit and dignity of the 
 following lines : 
 
 " Be this at least his praise, be this his pride, 
 To force applause no modern arts are tried : 
 Should partial catcalls all his hopes confound, 
 He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound ; 
 Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit, 
 He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit ; 
 No snares to captivate the judgement spreads, 
 Nor bribes your eyes, to prejudice your heads. 
 Unmov'd, though witlings sneer and rivals rail, 
 Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail. 
 He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain, 
 With merit needless, and without it vain ; 
 In Reason, Nature, Truth, he dares to trust ; 
 Ye fops be silent, and ye wits be just ! " 
 
 2 [This shews how ready modern audiences are to condemn in a new play 
 what they have frequently endured very quietly in an old one. Rovve has 
 made Moneses in Tamerlane die by the bow-string, without offence. — 
 Malone.] 
 
 3 [The Right Honourable Sir William Yonge, Secretary at War, in Sir 
 Robert Walpole's administration, and a distinguished parliamentary speaker. 
 He was the father of Sir George Yonge, who was Secretary at War under 
 Mr. Pitt. Johnson must, before this, have had some communication with 
 Sir W. Yonge, who told him that great should be pronounced so as to 
 rhyme with seat, while Lord Chesterfield thought it should rhyme to state. 
 — Croker.] 
 
 * [I know not what Sir John Hawkins means by the cold reception of Irene.
 
 142 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1749. 
 
 Mr. Garrick's zeal carried it through for nine nights, so that the 
 authour had his three nights' profits ; ^ and from a receipt signed 
 by him, now in the hands of Mr. James Dodsley, it appears 
 that his friend, Mr. Robert Dodsley, gave him one hundred 
 pounds for the copy, with his usual reservation of the right 
 of one edition. 
 
 Irene, considered as a poem, is entitled to the praise of 
 superiour excellence. Analysed into parts, it will furnish a rich 
 store of noble sentiments, fine imagery, and beautiful language ; 
 
 [See note, p. 169.] I was at the first representation, and most of the sub- 
 sequent. It was much applauded the first night, particularly the speech on 
 to-morrow. It ran nine nights at least. It did not indeed become a stock- 
 play, but there Avas not the least opposition during the representation, except 
 the first night in the last act, where Irene was to be strangled on the stage, 
 which John could not bear, though a dramatick poet may stab or slay by 
 hundreds. The bow-string was not a Christian nor an ancient Greek or 
 Roman death. But this offence was removed after the first night, and Irene 
 went off the stage to be strangled.^Many stories were circulated at the time, 
 of the authour's being observed at the representation to be dissatisfied with 
 some of the speeches and conduct of the play, himself ; and, like la Fontaine, 
 expressing his disapprobation aloud. — Burney.] 
 
 1 [Mr. Murphy, in his Life of Johnson, p. 53, says, "the amount of the three 
 benefit nights for the tragedy of Irene, it is to be feared, were not very con- 
 siderable, as the profit, that stimulating motive, never invited the authour to 
 another dramatick attempt." 
 
 On the word '^ profit," the late Mr. Isaac Reed, in his copy of that Life, which 
 I purchased at the sale of his library, has added a manuscript note, contain- 
 ing the following receipts on Johnson's three benefit nights : 
 
 " 3d night's receipt .... £1-]-] i 6 
 
 6th 106 4 o 
 
 9th loi II 6 
 
 384 17 o 
 Charges of the House ... 189 o o 
 
 Profit 195 17 o 
 
 He also received for the Copy 100 o o 
 
 In all ;^295 17 o" 
 
 In a preceding page (52) Mr. Murphy says, "Irene was acted at Drury- 
 lane on Monday, Feb. 6, and from that time, without interruption, to Monday, 
 February the 20th, being in all thirteen nights." 
 
 On this Mr. Reed somewhat indignantly has written — " This is false. It 
 was acted only nine nights, and never repeated afterwards. Mr. Murphy, 
 in making the above calculation, includes both the Sundays and Lent-days.'" 
 
 The blunder, however, is that of the Monthly Reviewer, from whom 
 Murphy took, without acknowledgment, the greater'part of his Essay. M. R. 
 vol. Ixxvii. p. 135. — Chal.mers.]
 
 AGE39-40.] ''IRENE" AT DRURY LAAE. 143 
 
 but it is deficient in pathos, in that delicate power of touching 
 the human feehngs, which is the principal end of the drama. ^ 
 Indeed Garrick has complained to me, that Johnson not only 
 had not the faculty of producing the impressions of tragedy, 
 but that he had not the sensibility to perceive them. His great 
 friend Mr. Walmsley's prediction, that he would " turn out a fine 
 tragedy writer," was, therefore, ill-founded. Johnson was wise 
 enough to be convinced that he had not the talents necessary 
 to write successfully for the stage, and never made another 
 attempt in that species of composition. 
 
 When asked how he felt upon the ill success of his traged}'> 
 he replied, " Like the Monument ; " meaning that he continued 
 firm and unmoved as that column. And let it be remembered, 
 as an admonition to the genus irritabile of dramatick writers, 
 that this great man, instead of peevishly complaining of the bad 
 taste of the town, submitted to its decision without a murmur. 
 He had, indeed, upon all occasions, a great deference for the 
 general opinion : " A man (said he) who writes a book, thinks 
 himself wiser or wittier than the rest of mankind ; he supposes 
 that he can instruct or amuse them, and the publick to whom he 
 appeals, must, after all, be the judges of his pretensions." 
 
 On occasion of this play being brought upon the stage, Johnson 
 had a fancy that as a dramatick authour, his dress should be 
 more gay than what he ordinarily wore ; he therefore appeared 
 behind the scenes, and even in one of the side-boxes, in a 
 scarlet waistcoat, with rich gold lace, and a gold-lace hat. He 
 humourously observed to Mr. Langton, " that when in that dress 
 he could not treat people with the same ease as when in his 
 usual plain clothes." Dress indeed, we must allow, has more 
 effect even upon strong minds than one should suppose, without 
 having had the experience of it. His necessary attendance while 
 his play was in rehearsal, and during its performance, brought 
 him acquainted with many of the performers of both sexes, which 
 produced a more favourable opinion of their profession than he 
 
 ^ Aaron Hill (vol. ii. p. 355), in a letter to Mr. Mallet, gives the following 
 account of Irene, after having seen it : " I was at the anomalous Mr. Johnson's 
 benefit, and found the play his proper representative ; strong sense ungraced 
 by sweetness or decorum."
 
 144 BOSWELnS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750. 
 
 had harshly expressed in his Life of Savage. With some of 
 them he kept up an acquaintance as long as he and they lived, 
 and was ever ready to shew them acts of kindness. He for 
 a considerable time used to frequent the Grem-Roovi, and 
 seemed to take delight in dissipating his gloom, by mixing in 
 the sprightly chit-chat of the motley circle then to be found 
 there. Mr. David Hume related to me from Mr. Garrick, that 
 Johnson at last denied himself this amusement, from considera- 
 tions of rigid virtue ; saying, " I'll come no more behind your 
 scenes, David ; for the silk stockings and white bosoms of your 
 actresses excite my amorous propensities." 
 
 In 1750 he came forth in the character for which he was 
 eminently qualified, a majestick teacher of moral and religious 
 Avisdom. The vehicle which he chose was that of a periodical 
 paper, which he knew had been, upon former occasions, employed 
 with great success. The Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian, were 
 the last of the kind published in England, which had stood 
 the test of a long trial ; and such an interval had now elapsed 
 since their publication, as made him justly think that, to many 
 of his readers, this form of instruction would, in some degree, 
 have the advantage of novelty. A few days before the first of 
 his Essays came out, there started another competitor for fame 
 in the same form, under the title of " The Tatler Revived," 
 which I believe was " born but to die." Johnson was, I think, 
 not very happy in the choice of his title, — " The Rambler ; " 
 which certainly is not suited to a series of grave and moral dis- 
 courses ; which the Italians have literally, but ludicrously, trans- 
 lated by // Vagabondo, and which has been lately assumed as 
 the denomination of a vehicle of licentious tales, " The Rambler's 
 Magazine." He gave Sir Joshua Reynolds the llolowing account 
 of its getting this name ; " What must be done, S\x,will be done. 
 When I was to begin publishing that paper, I was at a loss how 
 to name it. I sat down at night upon my bedside, and resolved 
 that I would not go to sleep till I had fixed its title. The 
 Rambler seemed the best that occurred, and I took it." ^ 
 
 ^ I have heard Dr. Warton mention, that he was at Mr. Robert Dodsley's 
 with the late Mr. Moore, and several of his friends, considering what should
 
 Age 41.] " THE RAMBLER:' 145 
 
 With what devout and conscientious sentiments this paper 
 was undertaken, is evidenced by the following prayer, which 
 he composed and offered up on the occasion : 
 
 " Almighty GOD, the giver of all good things, without whose 
 help all labour is ineffectual, and without whose grace all wisdom 
 is folly ; grant, I beseech Thee, that in this undertaking thy 
 Holy Spirit may not be withheld from me, but that I may pro- 
 mote thy glory, and the salvation of myself and others : grant 
 this, O Lord, for the sake of thy Son, jESUS Christ. Amen." ^ 
 
 The first paper of the Rambler was published on Tuesday 
 the 20th of March, 1749-50: and its authourwas enabled to con- 
 tinue it, without interruption, every Tuesday and Saturday, 
 till Saturday the 17th of March, ^ 1752, on which day it closed. 
 This is a strong confirmation of the truth of a remark of his, 
 which I have had occasion to quote elsewhere,^ that " a man may 
 write at any time, if he will set himself doggedly to it ; " for, 
 notwithstanding his constitutional indolence, his depression of 
 spirits, and his labour in carrying on his Dictionary, he answered 
 the stated calls of the press twice a week from the stores of his 
 mind, during all that time ; having received no assistance, except 
 four billets in No. 10, by Miss Mulso, now Mrs. Chapone ; No. 30, 
 by Mrs. Catharine Talbot ; No. 97, by Mr. Samuel Richardson, 
 whom he describes in an introductory note as " An authour who 
 has enlarged the knowledge of human nature, and taught the 
 
 be the name of the periodical paper which Moore had undertaken. Garrick 
 proposed the , Sallad, which, by a curious coincidence, was afterwards 
 appHed to himself by Goldsmith : 
 
 " Our Garrick's a sallad, for in him we see 
 Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree ! '' 
 
 At last, the company having separated, without any thing of which they 
 approved having been offered, Dodsley himself thought of The World. 
 ^ Prayers and Meditations, p. 9. 
 
 2 This is a mistake, into which the authour was very pardonably led by 
 the inaccuracy of the original folio edition of the Rambler, in which the 
 concluding paper of that work is dated on " Saturday, March 17." But 
 Saturday was in fact the fourteejith of March. [New Style.] This circum- 
 stance, though it may at first appear of very little importance, is yet worth 
 notice ; for Mrs. Johnson died on the seventeenth of March. [Old Style.] 
 — Malone.] 
 
 3 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit. p. 28. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52; 
 
 passions to move at the command of virtue ; " and Numbers 44 
 and 100, by Mrs. Elizabeth Carter. 
 
 Posterity will be astonished when they are told, upon the 
 authority of Johnson himself, that many of these discourses, 
 which we should suppose had been laboured with all the slow 
 attention of literary leisure, were written in haste as the moment 
 pressed, without even being read over by him before they were 
 printed. It can be accounted for only in this way ; that by 
 reading and meditation, and a very close inspection of life, he 
 had accumulated a great fund of miscellaneous knowledge, which, 
 by a peculiar promptitude of mind, was ever ready at his call, 
 and which he had constantly accustomed himself to clothe in 
 the most apt and energetick expression. Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 once asked him by what means he had attained his extraordi- 
 nary accuracy and flow of language. He told him, that he had 
 early laid it down as a fixed rule to do his best on every occa- 
 sion, and in every company : to impart whatever he knew in 
 the most forcible language he could put it in : and that by 
 constant practice, and never suffering any careless expressions 
 to escape him, or attempting to deliver his thoughts without 
 arranging them in the clearest manner, it became habitual 
 to him.^ 
 
 Yet he was not altogether unprepared as a periodical writer ; 
 for I have in my possession a small duodecimo volume, in which 
 he has written, in the form of Mr. Locke's Common-Place Book, 
 a variety of hints for essays on different subjects. He has 
 marked upon the first blank leaf of it, "To the 128th page, 
 collections for the Rambler ; " and in another place, " in fifty- 
 two there were seventeen provided ; in 97 — 21 ; in 190 — 25." 
 At a subsequent period (probably after the work was finished) 
 he added, " In all, taken of provided materials, 30." 
 
 Sir John Hawkins, who is unlucky upon all occasions, tells 
 us, that " this method of accumulating intelligence had been 
 
 1 [The rule ^yhich Dr. Johnson observed, is sanctioned by the authority of 
 two great writers of antiquity : " Ne id quidem tacenduin est, quod eidem 
 Ciceroni placet, nullum nostrum usquam negligentem esse sermonem ; 
 qiiicqtdd loqueimir^ ubicunque, sit pro sua scilicet portione perfectiitn'^ 
 — Quinctil. x. 7.— Malone.]
 
 AGE4I-43-] THE RAMBLERS 147 
 
 practised by Mr. Addison, and is humourously described in 
 one of the Spectators, wherein he feigns to have dropped his 
 paper of notanda, consisting of a diverting medley of broken 
 sentences and loose hints, which he tells us he had collected, 
 and meant to make use of Much of the same kind is Johnson's 
 Adversaria."^ But the truth is, that there is no resemblance 
 at all between them. Addison's note was a fiction, in which 
 unconnected fragments of his lucubrations were purposely 
 jumbled together, in as odd a manner as he could, in order to 
 produce a laughable effect. Whereas Johnson's abbreviations 
 are all distinct, and applicable to each subject of which the 
 head is mentioned. 
 
 For instance, there is the following specimen : — 
 
 YoiitJis Eiitry, &c. 
 
 " Baxter's account of things in which he had changed his 
 mind as he grew up. Voluminous. — No wonder. — If every man 
 was to tell, or mark, on how many subjects he has changed, 
 it would make vols, but the changes not always observed by 
 man's self. — From pleasure to bus. [business] to quiet ; from 
 thoughtfulness to reflect, to piety ; from dissipation to 
 domestic, by imperfect gradat. but the change is certain. Dial 
 Jio/i progredi, progress, esse coiispicinius. Look back, consider 
 what was thought at some dist. period. 
 
 " Hope predoni. in youth. Mind not zvillingly indulges unpleasing 
 thoughts. The world lies all enamelled before him, as a 
 distant prospect sun-gilt ; - inequalities only found by coming 
 to it. Love is to be all joy — cJiildrcn excellent — Fame to be 
 constant — caresses of the great — applauses of the learned — 
 smiles of Beauty. 
 
 " Fear of disgrace — Bashfulncss — Finds things of less import- 
 ance. Miscarriages forgot like excellencies ; — if remembered, 
 of no import. Danger of sinking into negligence of reputation ; 
 — lest the fear of disgrace destroy activity. 
 
 " Confidence in hijnself. Long tract of life before him — No 
 thought of sickness. — Embarrassment of affairs. — Distraction of 
 family. Publick calamities. — No sense of the prevalence of 
 
 ^ Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 268. 
 
 ^ This most beautiful image of the enchanting delusion of youthful prospect 
 has not been used in any of Johnson's essays. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 BOSIVELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 bad habits. Negligent of time — ready to undertake — careless 
 to pursue — all changed by time. 
 
 " Confident of others — unsuspecting as unexperienced — im- 
 agining himself secure against neglect, never imagines they 
 will venture to treat him ill. Ready to trust ; expecting to be 
 trusted. Convinced by time of the selfishness, the meanness, 
 the cowardice, the treachery of men. 
 
 " Youth ambitious, as thinking honours easy to be had. 
 
 " Different kinds of praise pursued at different periods. Of 
 the gay in youth, — dang, hurt, &c. despised. 
 
 " Of the fancy in manhood. Ambit. — stocks — bargains. — Of 
 the wise and sober in old age — seriousness — formality — maxims, 
 but general — only of the rich, otherwise age is happy — but at 
 last every thing referred to riches — no having fame, honour, 
 influence, without subjection to caprice. 
 
 *' Horace. 
 
 " Hard it would be if men entered life with the same views 
 with which they leave it, or left as they enter it — No hope 
 ■ — no undertaking — no regard to benevolence — no fear of 
 disgrace, &c. 
 
 "Youth to be taught the piety of age — age to retain the 
 honour of youth." 
 
 This, it will be observed, is the sketch of Number 196 of the 
 Rambler. I shall gratify my readers with another specimen. 
 
 " Cojifederacies difficult ; ivhy. 
 
 " Seldom in Avar a match for single persons — nor in peace ; 
 therefore kings make themselves absolute. Confederacies in 
 learning — every great work the work of one. Bruy. Scholars' 
 friendship like ladies. Scribebamus, &c., Mart.^ The apple of 
 discord — the laurel of discord — the poverty of criticism. Swift's 
 opinion of the power of six geniuses united. That union scarce 
 possible. His remarks just ; — man a social, not steady nature. 
 Drawn to man by words, repelled by passions. Orb drawn by 
 attraction, rep. \repclled\ by centrifugal. 
 
 " Common danger unites by crushing other passions. — but 
 they return. Equality hinders compliance. Superiority pro- 
 duces insolence and envy. Too much regard in each to private 
 interest ; — too little. 
 
 "The mischiefs of private and exclusive societies. — The 
 
 ^ [Lib. xii. 96. " In Tuccam acmulum omnium suorum studiorum." — 
 M ALONE.]
 
 Age 41-43.] " THE RAMBLERr 149 
 
 fitness of social attraction diffused through the whole. The 
 mischiefs of too partial love of our country. Contraction of 
 moral duties. — 01' (pcXoi, ov 0tAos. 
 
 " Every man moves upon his own center, and therefore 
 repels others from too near a contact, though he may comply 
 with some general laws. 
 
 " Of confederacy with superiors every one knows the incon- 
 venience. With equals, no authority ; — every man his own 
 opinion — his own interest. 
 
 " Man and wife hardly united ; — scarce ever without children. 
 Computation, if two to one against two, how many against five ? 
 If confederacies were easy — useless ; — many oppresses many. — 
 If possible only to some, dangerous. Principum amicitiasy 
 
 Here we see the embryo of Number 45 of The Adventurer ; 
 and it is a confirmation of what I shall presently have occasion 
 to mention, that the papers in that collection marked T. were 
 written by Johnson. 
 
 This scanty preparation of materials will not, however, much 
 diminish our wonder at the extraordinary fertility of his mind ; 
 for the proportion which they bear to the number of essays 
 which he wrote, is very small ; and it is remarkable, that those 
 for which he had made no preparation, are as rich and as highly- 
 finished, as those for which the hints were lying by him. It is 
 also to be observed, that the papers formed from his hints are 
 worked up with such strength and elegance, that we almost lose 
 sight of the hints, which become like " drops in the bucket." 
 Indeed, in several instances, he has made a very slender use of 
 them, so that many of them remain still unapplied.^ 
 
 As the Rambler was entirely the work of one man, there was, 
 
 ^ Sir John Hawkins has selected from this little collection of materials, 
 what he calls the " Rudiments of two of the papers of the Rambler.'' But 
 he has not been able to read the manuscript distinctly. Thus he writes, 
 p. 266, " Sailor's fate any mansion ; " whereas the original is, "Sailor's life 
 my aversion." He has also transcribed the unappropriated hints on Writers 
 for bread, in which he decyphers these notable passages, one in Latin, y^z/?« 
 «(?« y^wt?, instead oi fami non fatna ; Johnson having in his mind what 
 Thuanus says of the learned German antiquary and linguist, Xylander, who, 
 he tells us, lived in such poverty, that he was supposed fami non fanicB 
 scribere ; and another in French, Degente de fate et affame d^ argent, instead 
 of Degoiite de fame (an old word for retwjnme) et affame d'argent. The 
 manuscript being written in an exceedingly small hand, is indeed very hard 
 to read ; but it would have been better to have left blanks than to write 
 nonsense.
 
 ISO BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 of course, such a uniformity in its texture, as very much to 
 exclude the charm of variety ; and the grave and often solemn 
 cast of thinking, which distinguished it from other periodical 
 papers, made it, for some time not generally liked. So slowly 
 did this excellent work, of which twelve editions have now 
 issued from the press, gain upon the world at large, that even 
 in the closing number the authour says, "I have never been 
 much a favourite of the publick." ^ 
 
 Yet, very soon after its commencement, there were who felt 
 and acknowledged its uncommon excellence. Verses in its 
 praise appeared in the newspapers ; and the editor of the 
 Gentleman's Magazine mentions, in October, his having received 
 several letters to the same purpose from the learned. " The 
 Student, or Oxford and Cambridge Miscellany," in which Mr. 
 Bonnel Thornton and Mr. Colman - were the principal writers, 
 
 1 [The Ramblers certainly were little noticed at first. Smart, the poet, first 
 mentioned them to me as excellent papers, before I had heard any one else 
 speak of them. When I went into Norfolk, in the autumn of 175 1, I found 
 but one person, (the Rev. Mr. Squires, a man of learning, and a general 
 purchaser of new books,) who knew any thing of them. But he had been 
 misinformed concerning the true authour, for he had been told they were 
 written by a Mr. Johnson of Canterbury, the son of a clergyman who had had 
 a controversy with Bentley : and who had changed the readings of the old 
 ballad entitled Norton Falgate, in Bentley's bold style, {meo pcriatlo) till not 
 a single word of the original song was left. Before I left Norfolk in the year 
 1760, the Ramblers were in high favour among persons of learning and good 
 taste. Others there were, devoid of both, who said that the hard words in 
 the Rambler were used by the authour to render his Dictionary indispensably 
 necessary.— BURNEY.] 
 
 [It may not be improper to correct a slight errour in the preceding note, 
 though it does not at all affect the principal object of Dr. Burney's remark. 
 The clergyman above alluded to, was Mr. Richard Johnson, Schoolmaster at 
 Nottingham, who in 17 17 published an octavo volume in Latin, against 
 Bentley's edition of Horace, entitled Aristarchus Anti-Bentleianus. 
 In the middle of this Latin work (as Mr. Bindley observes to me), he has 
 introduced four pages of English criticism, in which he ludicrously corrects, 
 in Bentley's manner, one stanza, not of the ballad the hero of which lived 
 in Norton Falgate, but of a ballad celebrating the achievements of Tom 
 BOSTOCK ; who in a sea-fight performed prodigies of valour. The stanza, 
 on which this ingenious writer has exercised his wit, is as follows : 
 
 "Then old Tom Bostock he fell to the work. 
 He pray'd like a Christian, but fought like a Turk, 
 And cut 'em off all in a jerk. 
 Which nobody can deny," &c. — Malone.] 
 
 2 [I doubt if Colman wrote in this work. Smart Avas the principal con- 
 tributor, and T. Warton a very considerable one. — Chalmers.]
 
 Age 4 1 -43-] ''■ THE RAMBLER." 151 
 
 describes it as " a work that exceeds any thing of the kind ever 
 pubhshed in this kingdom, some of the Spectators excepted, — 
 if, indeed, they may be excepted." And afterwards, " May the 
 pubhck favours crown his merits, and may not the English, 
 under the auspicious reign of GEORGE the Second, neglect a 
 man, who, had he lived in the first century, would have been 
 one of the greatest favourites of Augustus." This flattery of 
 the monarch had no effect. It is too well known, that the 
 second George never was an Augustus to learning or genius.^ 
 
 ^ [Richardson, the author of Clai'issa to whom Cave had sent the first five 
 numbers of the Rambler, became, as they proceeded, "so inexpressibly pleased 
 with them," that he wrote to Cave in strong commendation, and intimated 
 his conviction (the name of the author being still a secret), that Johnson was 
 the only man who could write them. Cave, in his answer, dated " St. John's 
 Gate, August 23, 1750/' says :— 
 
 " Excuse this ramble from the purpose of your letter. I return to answer, 
 that Mr. Johnson is the Great Rambler, being, as you observe, the only man 
 who can furnish two such papers in a week, besides his other great business, 
 and has not been assisted with above three. I may discover to you, that the 
 world is not so kind to itself as you wish it. The encouragement, as to sale, 
 is not in proportion to the high character given to the work by the judicious, 
 not to say the raptures expressed by the few that do read it ; but its being 
 thus relished in numbers gives hopes that the sets must go off, as it is 
 a fine paper, and, considering the late hour of having the copy, tolerably 
 printed. 
 
 " When the author was to be kept private (which was the first scheme), two 
 gentlemen, belonging to the Prince's court, came to me to inquire his name, 
 in order to do him service ; and also brought a list of seven gentlemen to be 
 served with the Rambler. As I was not at liberty, an inference was drawn, 
 that I was desirous to keep to myself so excellent a writer. Soon after Mr. 
 Doddington [afterwards Lord Melcombe] sent a letter directed to the 
 Rambler, inviting him to his house, when he should be disposed to enlarge 
 his acquaintance. In a subsequent number a kind of excuse was made, with 
 a hint* that a good writer might not appear to advantage in conversation. 
 Since Cnat time several circumstances, and Mr. Garrick and others, who knew 
 the author's powers and style from the first, unadvisedly asserting their (but) 
 suspicions, overturned the scheme of secrecy. (About which there is also 
 one paper.) 
 
 " I have had letters of approbation from Dr. Young, Dr. Hartley, Dr. Sharp, 
 Miss Carter, &c. tS:c., most of them, like you, setting them in a rank equal, 
 and some superior, to the Spectators (of which I have not read many, for the 
 reasons which you assign) : but, notwithstanding such recommendation, 
 whether the price of twopence, or the unfavourable season of their first 
 publication, hinders the demand, no boast can be made of it. The author 
 (who thinks highly of your writings) is obliged to you for contributing your 
 endeavours; and so is, for several marks of your friendship, good Sir, your 
 admirer, and very humble servant," &c. &c. 
 
 The two Ramblers alluded to are probably Nos. 14. and 13. Richardson 
 had said, in his letter to Cave, " I remember not any thing in those Spectators
 
 152 BOSIVELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 Johnson told mc, with an amiable fondness, a Httle pleasing 
 circumstance relative to this work. Mrs. Johnson, in whose 
 judgement and taste he had great confidence, said to him, after 
 a few numbers of the Rambler had come out, " I thought 
 very well of you before ; but I did not imagine you could have 
 written any thing equal to this." Distant praise, from whatever 
 quarter, is not so delightful as that of a wife whom a man 
 loves and esteems. Her approbation may be said to " come home 
 to his bosom;" and being so near, its effect is most sensible 
 and permanent. 
 
 Mr. James Elphinston,^ who has since published various 
 works, and who was ever esteemed by Johnson as a worthy 
 man, happened to be in Scotland while the Rambler was coming 
 out in single papers at London. With a laudable zeal at once 
 for the improvement of his countrymen, and the reputation 
 of his friend, he suggested and took the charge of an edition of 
 those Essays at Edinburgh, which followed progressively the 
 London publication.^ 
 
 The following letter written at this time, though not dated, 
 will show how much pleased Johnson was with his publication, 
 and what kindness and regard he had for Mr. Elphinston. 
 
 that I read, for I never found time to read them all, that half so much struck 
 me." It seems very strange that men of literary habits, like Richardson and 
 Cave, should have read the Spectator so imperfectly. It is the stranger, with 
 regard to Richardson, for his only paper in the Rambler (No. 97) is written 
 in the character of a professed admirer of the Spectator. — Croker.] 
 
 1 [Mr. James Elphinston was born in Edinburgh, in 1721. He, when very 
 young, was a private tutor in two or three eminent families : but about 1752 
 set up a boarding-school at Kensington, where Dr. Johnson sometimes 
 visited him. He died at Hammersmith in 1809. His works are forgotten. — 
 Croker.] 
 
 2 It was executed in the printing-office of Sands, Murray, and Cochran, 
 ■with uncommon elegance, upon writing-paper, of a duodecimo size, and with 
 the greatest correctness : and Mr. Elphinston enriched it with translations 
 of the mottos. When completed, it made eight handsome volumes. It is, 
 unquestionably, the most accurate and beautiful edition of this work ; and 
 there being but a small impression, it is now become scarce, and sells at a 
 very high price. 
 
 [With respect to the correctness of this edition, the authour probably 
 derived his information from some other person, and appears to have been 
 misinformed ; for it was not accurately printed, as we learn from Mr. A. 
 Chalmers.— J. Boswell.]
 
 Age 41-43] " I^HE RAMBLERr 153 
 
 "TO MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON. 
 
 {No daie?[ 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I CANNOT but confess the failures of my correspondence, 
 but hope the same regard which you express for me on every 
 other occasion, will incline you to forgive me. I am often, very 
 often, ill ; and, when I am well, am obliged to work : and, 
 indeed, have never much used myself to punctuality. You are, 
 however, not to make unkind inferences, when I forbear to reply 
 to your kindness ; for be assured, I never receive a letter from 
 you without great pleasure, and a very warm sense of your 
 generosity and friendship, which I heartily blame myself for not 
 cultivating with more care. In this, as in many other cases, I 
 go wrong, in opposition to conviction ; for I think scarce any 
 temporal good equally to be desired with the regard and 
 familiarity of worthy men. I hope we shall be some time 
 nearer to each other, and have a more ready way of pouring 
 out our hearts. 
 
 " I am glad that you still find encouragement to proceed in 
 your publication, and shall beg the favour of six more volumes 
 to add to my former six, when you can with any convenience, 
 send them me. Please to present a set in my name, to Mr. 
 Ruddiman,^ of whom, I hear, that his learning is not his highest 
 excellence. I have transcribed the mottos, and returned them, 
 I hope not too late, of which I think many very happily per- 
 formed. Mr. Cave has put the last in the magazine^ in which 
 I think he did well. I beg of you to write soon, and to write 
 often, and to write long letters, which I hope in time to repay 
 you ; but you must be a patient creditor. I have, however, this 
 of gratitude, that I think of you with regard, when I do not, 
 perhaps, give the proofs which I ought, of being, Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged and most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 ^ Mr. Thomas Ruddiman, the learned grammarian of Scotland, well known 
 for his various excellent works, and for his accurate editions of several 
 authours. He was also a man of a most worthy private character. His zeal 
 for the Royal House of Stuart did not render him less estimable in Dr. 
 Johnson's eye. 
 
 2 [If the Magazine here referred to be that for October, 1752 (See Gent. 
 Mag. vol. 22, p. 468), then this letter belongs to a later period. If it relates 
 to the Magazine for Sept. 1750 (See Gent. Mag. vol. 20, p. 406), then it may 
 be ascribed to the month of October in that year, and should have followed 
 the subsequent letter. — Malone.]
 
 154 BOSWELL S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 This year he wrote to the same gentleman another letter 
 upon a mournful occasion. 
 
 "TO MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON. 
 
 "September 25, 1750. 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " You have, as I find by every kind of evidence, lost an 
 excellent mother ; and I hope you will not think me incapable 
 of partaking of your grief. I have a mother, now eighty-two 
 years of age, whom, therefore, I must soon lose, unless it please 
 God that she should rather mourn for me. I read the letters 
 in which you relate your mother's death to Mrs. Strahan,^ and 
 think I do myself honour, when I tell you that I read them with 
 tears ; but tears are neither to you nor to vie of any farther use, 
 when once the tribute of nature has been paid. The business 
 of life summons us away from useless grief, and calls us to 
 the exercise of those virtues of which we are lamenting our 
 deprivation. The greatest benefit which one friend can confer 
 upon another, is to guard, and excite, and elevate, his virtues. 
 This your mother will still perform, if you diligently preserve 
 the memory of her life, and of her death : a life, so far as I can 
 learn, useful, wise, and innocent ; and a death resigned, peaceful, 
 and holy. I cannot forbear to mention, that neither reason nor 
 revelation denies you to hope, that you may increase her happiness 
 by obeying her precepts ; and that she may, in her present state, 
 look with pleasure upon every act of virtue to which her instruc- 
 tions or example have contributed. Whether this be more than a 
 pleasing dream, or a just opinion of separate spirits, is, indeed, 
 of no great importance to us, when we consider ourselves as 
 acting under the eye of GOD ; yet, surely, there is something 
 pleasing in the belief, that our separation from those whom we 
 love is merely corporeal ; and it may be a great incitement to 
 virtuous friendship, if it can be made probable, that that union 
 that has received the divine approbation shall continue to 
 eternity. 
 
 " There is one expedient by which you may, in some degree, 
 continue her presence. If you write down minutely what you 
 remember of her from your earliest years, you will read it with 
 great pleasure, and receive from it many hints of soothing 
 recollection, when time shall remove her yet farther from you, 
 and your grief shall be matured to veneration. To this, 
 however painful for the present, I cannot but advise you, as to 
 
 ^ [Elphinston's sister.]
 
 AGE4I-43-] '' THE RAMBLER." 155 
 
 a source of comfort and satisfaction in the time to come ; for 
 all comfort and all satisfaction is sincerely wished you by, 
 dear Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged, most obedient, 
 
 " And most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 The Rambler has increased in fame as in age. Soon after 
 its first foHo edition was concluded, it was published in six 
 duodecimo volumes ; ^ and its authour lived to see ten numerous 
 editions of it in London, beside those of Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 I profess myself to have ever entertained a profound ven- 
 eration for the astonishing force and vivacity of mind, which 
 the Rambler exhibits. That Johnson had penetration enough 
 to see, and seeing would not disguise the general misery of man 
 in this state of being, may have given rise to the superficial 
 notion of his being too stern a philosopher. But men of 
 reflection will be sensible that he has given a true representation 
 of human existence, and that he has, at the same time, with a 
 generous benevolence displayed every consolation which our 
 state affords us ; not only those arising from the hopes of 
 futurity, but such as may be attained in the immediate progress 
 through life. He has not depressed the soul to despondency 
 and indifference. He has every where inculcated study, labour, 
 and exertion. Nay, he has shewn, in a very odious light, a 
 man, whose practice is to go about darkening the views of 
 others, by perpetual complaints of evil, and awakening those 
 considerations of danger and distress, which are, for the most 
 part, lulled into a quiet oblivion. This he has done very 
 strongly in his character of Suspirius, - from which Goldsmith 
 
 1 [This is not quite accurate. In the Gent. Mag. for Nov. 1751, while 
 the work was yet proceeding, is an advertisement, announcing that four 
 volumes of the Rambler would speedily be published ; and it is believed that 
 they were published in the next month. The fifth and sixth volumes, with 
 tables of contents and translations of the mottos, were published in July 
 1752, by Payne, (the original publisher,) three months after the close of 
 the work. 
 
 When the Rambler was collected into volumes, Johnson revised and 
 corrected it throughout. Mr. Boswell was not aware of this circumstance, 
 which has lately been discovered and accurately stated by Mr. Alexander 
 Chalmers in a new edition of these and various other periodical Essays, 
 under the title of " the British Essayists." — Malone.] 
 
 2 No. 55.
 
 156 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 took that of Croaker, in his comedy of "The Good-natured 
 Man," as Johnson told me he acknowledged to him, and which 
 is, indeed, very obvious. 
 
 To point out the numerous subjects which the Rambler treats, 
 with a dignity and perspicuity which are there united in a 
 manner which we shall in vain look for any where else, would 
 take up too large a portion of my book, and would, I trust, be 
 superfluous, considering how universally those volumes are now 
 disseminated. Even the most condensed and brilliant sentences 
 which they contain, and which have very properly been selected 
 under the names of ^' BEAUTIES,"^ are of considerable bulk. 
 But I may shortly observe, that the Rambler furnishes such an 
 assemblage of discourses on practical religion and moral duty, 
 of critical investigations, and allegorical and oriental tales, that 
 no mind can be thought very deficient that has, by constant 
 study and meditation, assimilated to itself all that may be found 
 there. No. 7, written in Passion-week on abstraction and self- 
 examination, and No. no, on penitence and the placability of 
 the Divine Nature, cannot be too often read. No. 54, on the 
 effect which the death of a friend should have upon us, though 
 rather too dispiriting, may be occasionally very medicinal to the 
 mind. Every one must suppose the writer to have been deeply 
 impressed by a real scene ; but he told me that was not the 
 case ; which shews how well his fancy could conduct him to the 
 "house of mourning." Some of these more solemn papers, I 
 doubt not, particularly attracted the notice of Dr. Young, the 
 authour of "The Night Thoughts," of whom my estimation is 
 such, as to reckon his applause an honour even to Johnson. I 
 have seen some volumes of Dr. Young's copy of the Rambler, 
 in which he has marked the passages which he thought 
 particularly excellent, by folding down a corner of the page ; 
 and such as he rated in a super-eminent degree are marked by 
 
 1 Dr. Johnson was gratified by seeing this selection, and wrote to Mr. 
 Kearsley, bookseller, in Fleet-street, the following note : 
 
 " Mr. Johnson sends compliments to Mr. Kearsley, and begs the favour 
 of seeing him as soon as he can. Mr. Kearsley is desired to bring with him 
 the last edition of what he has honoured with the name of Beauties. 
 
 "May 20, 1782."
 
 AGE4I-43-] ''THE RAMBLERP 157 
 
 double folds. I am sorry that some of the volumes are lost. 
 Johnson was pleased when told of the minute attention with 
 which Young had signified his approbation of his Essays. 
 
 I will venture to say, that in no writings whatever can be 
 found more bark and steel for the mind, if I may use the 
 expression ; more that can brace and invigorate every manl)^ 
 and noble sentiment. No. 32, on patience, even under extreme 
 misery, is wonderfully lofty, and as much above the rant of 
 stoicism, as the Sun of Revelation is brighter than the twilight 
 of Pagan philosophy. I never read the following sentence with- 
 out feeling my frame thrill : " I think there is some reason for 
 questioning whether the body and mind are not so proportioned, 
 that the one can bear all which can be inflicted on the other ; 
 whether virtue cannot stand its ground as long as life, and 
 whether a soul well principled will not be sooner separated 
 than subdued." 
 
 Though instruction be the predominant purpose of the 
 Rambler, yet it is enlivened with a considerable portion of 
 amusement. Nothing can be more erroneous than the notion 
 which some persons have entertained, that Johnson was then a 
 retired authour, ignorant of the world ; and, of consequence, 
 that he wrote only from his imagination, when he described 
 characters and manners. He said to me, that before he wrote 
 that work, he had been "running about the world," as he 
 expressed it, more than almost any body ; and I have heard 
 him relate, with much satisfaction, that several of the characters 
 in the Rambler were drawn so naturally, that when it first 
 circulated in numbers, a club in one of the towns in Essex 
 imagined themselves to be severally exhibited in it, and were 
 much incensed against a person who, they suspected, had thus 
 made them objects of publick notice ; nor were they quieted 
 till authentick assurance was given them, that the Rambler was 
 written by a person who had never heard of any one of them. 
 Some of the characters are believed to have been actually 
 drawn from the life, particularly that of Prospero from Garrick,^ 
 
 1 [That of Gelidus, in No. 24, from Professor Colson, and that of 
 EUPHUES in the same paper, which, -with many others, was doubtless drawn 
 from the Hfe. EuPHUES, I once thought, might have been intended to
 
 158 BOSIVELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 who never entirely forgave its pointed satire. For instances of 
 fertility of fancy, an accurate description of real life, I appeal to 
 No. 19, a man who wanders from one profession to another, 
 with most plausible reasons for every change : No. 34, female 
 fastidiousness and timorous refinement : No. 82, a Virtuoso who 
 has collected curiosities : No. ZZ, petty modes of entertaining a 
 company, and conciliating kindness: No. 182, fortune-hunting: 
 No. 194-195, a tutor's account of the follies of his pupil : No. 
 197-198, legacy-hunting : He has given a specimen of his nice 
 observation of the mere external appearances of life, in the 
 following passage in No. 179, against affectation, that frequent 
 and most disgusting quality : " He that stands to contemplate 
 the crowds that fill the streets of a populous city, will see many 
 passengers, whose air and motions it will be difficult to behold 
 without contempt and laughter : but if he examine what are 
 the appearances that thus powerfully excite his risibility, he will 
 find among them neither poverty nor disease, nor any involun- 
 tary or painful defect. The disposition to derision and insult, 
 is awakened by the softness of foppery, the swell of insolence, 
 the liveliness of levity, or the solemnity of grandeur ; by the 
 sprightly trip, the stately walk, the formal strut, and the lofty 
 mien ; by gestures intended to catch the eye, and by looks 
 elaborately formed as evidences of importance." 
 
 Every page of the Rambler shews a mind teeming with 
 classical allusion and poetical imagery : illustrations from other 
 writers are, upon all occasions, so ready, and mingle so easily, 
 in his periods, that the whole appears of one uniform vivid 
 texture. 
 
 The style 01 this work has been censured by some shallow 
 criticks as involved and turgid, and abounding with antiquated 
 and hard words. So ill-founded is the first part of this objec- 
 tion, that I will challenge all who may honour this book with a 
 perusal, to point out any English writer whose language conveys 
 his meaning with equal force and perspicuity. It must, indeed, 
 
 represent either Lord Chesterfield or Soame Jenyns : but Mr. Bindley, 
 with more probability, thinks that George Bubb Dodington, who was remark- 
 able for the homeliness of his person, and the finery of his dress, was the 
 person meant under that character. — Malone.]
 
 AGE4I-43-] JOHNSON'S STYLE. 159 
 
 be allowed, that the structure of his sentences is expanded, and 
 often has somewhat of the inversion of Latin ; and that he 
 delighted to express familiar thoughts in philosophical language ; 
 being in this the reverse of Socrates, who, it is said, reduced 
 philosophy to the simplicity of common life. But let us attend 
 to what he himself says in his concluding paper : " When 
 common words were less pleasing to the ear, or less distinct in 
 their signification, I have familiarised the terms of philosophy, 
 by applying them to popular ideas." ^ And, as to the second 
 part of this objection, upon a late careful revision of the work, 
 I can with confidence say, that it is amazing how few of those 
 words, for which it has been unjustly characterised, are actually 
 to be found in it ; I am sure, not the proportion of one to each 
 paper. This idle charge has been echoed from one babbler to 
 another, who have confounded Johnson's Essays with Johnson's 
 Dictionary ; and because he thought it right in a Lexicon of our 
 language to collect many words which had fallen into disuse, but 
 were supported by great authorities, it has been imagined that 
 all of these have been interwoven into his own compositions. 
 That some of them have been adopted by him unnecessarily, 
 may, perhaps, be allowed ; but, in general they are evidently an 
 advantage, for without them his stately ideas would be confined 
 and cramped. " He that thinks with more extent than another, 
 will want words of a larger meaning."^ He once told me, that 
 he had formed his style upon that of Sir William Temple, and 
 upon Chambers's Proposal for his Dictionary.^ He certainly 
 was mistaken ; or if he imagined at first that he was imitating 
 Temple, he was very unsuccessful ; ^ for nothing can be more 
 
 ^ Yet his style did not escape the harmless shafts of pleasant humour ; 
 for the ingenious Bonnell -Thornton published a mock Rambler in the Drury- 
 lane Journal. 
 
 ^ Idler, No. 70. 
 
 2 [The Paper here alluded to, was, I believe, Chambers's Proposal for a 
 second and improved edition of his Dictionary, which, I think, appeared in 
 1738. This proposal was probably in circulation in 1737, when Johnson first 
 came to London. — Malone.] 
 
 * [The authour appears to me to have misunderstood Johnson in this 
 instance. He did not, I conceive, mean to say, that, when he first began to 
 write, he made Sir William Temple his model, with a view to form a style 
 that should resemble his in all its parts ; but that he formed his style on that 
 of Temple and others ; by taking from each those characteristic excellencies
 
 i6o BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 unlike than the simphcity of Temple and the richness of 
 Johnson. Their styles differ as plain cloth and brocade. 
 Temple, indeed, seems equally erroneous in supposing that he 
 himself had formed his style upon Sandys's View of the state 
 of Religion in the Western parts of the World. 
 
 The style of Johnson was, undoubtedly, much formed upon 
 that of the great writers in the last century, Hooker, Bacon, 
 Sanderson, Hakewell and others ; those " GlANTS," as they 
 were well characterised by A GREAT PERSONAGE, whose 
 authority, were I to name him, would stamp a reverence on the 
 opinion. 
 
 We may, with the utmost propriety, apply to his learned 
 style that passage of Horace, a part of which he has taken as 
 the motto to his Dictionary : 
 
 " Cicjii tabidis aiiiimnn censoris siimet honesti ; 
 Andebit quceannqtte parum spleiidoris habebiint 
 Et sine pondcre erunt, ct lunwre iiidig7ia ferentur, 
 Verba viovere loco, quainvis invita recedant, 
 Et vcrsentiir adhiic intra penetralia Vestce. 
 Obscurata diu populo bonns crnet, atque 
 Pf'ofcret ill lucent speciosa vocabnla rerum, 
 Qjice priscis incinorata CatoJiibus atque Cethegis, 
 Nunc situs informis preniit et deserta vetustas : 
 Adsciscet nova, quce genitor produxerit usus : 
 Vekejnens, et liquidus, picroque si7iiillim7is afiini, 
 Fundet opes Latiumque beabit divite litigud." ^ 
 
 which were most worthy of imitation. — See this matter further explained 
 under April 9, 1778 ; where, in a conversation at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, 
 Johnson himself mentions the particular improvements which Temple made 
 in the English style. These, doubtless, were the objects of bis imitation, 
 so far as that writer was his model. — Malone.] 
 ^ Horat. Epist. Lib. ii. Epist. ii. 
 
 [" But how severely with themselves proceed 
 The men, who wrote such verse as we can read ! 
 Their own strict judges, not a word they spare 
 That wants or force, or light, or weight, or care, 
 Howe'er unwillingly it quits its place — 
 Nay, though at court (perhaps) it may find grace — 
 Such they'll degrade ; and sometimes, in its stead, 
 In downright charity revive the dead ; 
 Mark where a bold expressive phrase appears, 
 Bright through the rubbish of some hundred years ; 
 Command old words that long have slept to wake. 
 Words that wise Bacon or brave Raleigh spake ; 
 Or bid the new be English, ages hence,
 
 AGE4I-43-] JOHNSON'S STYLE. i6i 
 
 To so great a master of thinking, to one of such vast and 
 various knowledge as Johnson, might have been allowed a 
 liberal indulgence of that licence which Horace claims in 
 another place : 
 
 Si forte neccsse est 
 
 Indiciis monstrare recetitibus abdita rerum, 
 Fhigere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis 
 Continget, dabitiirqiie licentia sjDnpta ftidoiter : 
 Et novajictaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si 
 GrcEco fj7ite cadant, puree detorta. Quid autem 
 CcEcilio Plmdoque dabit Roniamis, adeniptuni 
 Virgilio Varioqiie? Ego cur, acqiiirere pauca 
 Si possutn, invideor ; cum lingua Catonis et Enni 
 Sernioiietn patritim ditaverit, et nova rerum 
 Nomina protulerit ? Liciiit, semperque licebii 
 Signatuin prcesente notd producer e nojnen."^ 
 
 Yet Johnson assured me, that he had not taken upon him to 
 add more than four or five words to the English language, of 
 his own formation ; and he was very much offended at the 
 general licence by no means " modestly taken " in his time, not 
 only to coin new words, but to use many words in senses quite 
 
 (For Use will father what's begot by Sense ;) 
 
 Pour the full tide of eloquence along, 
 
 Serenely pure, and yet divinely strong, 
 
 Rich with the treasures of each foreign tongue." — POPE.] 
 
 1 [" Words must be chosen and be placed with skill : 
 
 You gain your point, when, by the noble art 
 
 Of good connection, an unusual word 
 
 Is made at first familiar to the ear : 
 
 But if you write of things abstruse or new, 
 
 Some of your own inventing may be used. 
 
 So it be seldom and discreetly done ; 
 
 But he that hopes to have new words allow'd, 
 
 Must so derive them from the Grecian spring, 
 
 As they may seem to flow without constraint. 
 
 Can an impartial reader discommend 
 
 In Varius or in Virgil, what he likes 
 
 In Plautus or Cscilius ? Why should I 
 
 Be envied for the little I invent. 
 
 When Ennius and Cato's copious style 
 
 Have so enrich'd and so adorn' d our tongue ? 
 
 Men ever had, and ever will have, leave 
 
 To coin new words well suited to the age." — RoscOMMON.] 
 
 2 Horat. De Arte Poetica. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 i62 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 dififcrent from their established meaning, and those frequently 
 very fantastical. 
 
 Sir Thomas Browne, whose Life Johnson wrote, was remark- 
 ably fond of Anglo-Latin diction ; and to his example we are 
 to ascribe Johnson's sometimes indulging himself in this kind 
 of phraseology.^ Johnson's comprehension of mind was the 
 mould for his language. Had his conceptions been narrower, 
 his expression would have been easier. His sentences have a 
 dignified march ; and, it is certain, that his example has given a 
 general elevation to the language of his country, for many of our 
 best writers have approached very near to him ; and, from the 
 influence which he has had upon our composition, scarcely any- 
 thing is written now that is not better expressed than was 
 usual before he appeared to lead the national taste. 
 
 This circumstance, the truth of which must strike every critical 
 reader, has been so happily enforced by Mr, Courtenay, in his 
 *' Moral and Literary Character of Dr. Johnson," that I cannot 
 prevail on myself to withhold it, notwithstanding his, perhaps, 
 too great partiality for one of his friends : 
 
 " By nature's gifts ordain'd mankind to rule. 
 He, like a Titian, form'd his brilliant school ; 
 And taught congenial spirits to excel, 
 While from his lips impressive wisdom fell. 
 Our boasted Goldsmith felt the sovereign sway ; 
 From him deriv' d the sweet, yet nervous lay. 
 To Fame's proud cliff he bade our Raffaelle rise : 
 Hence Reynolds' pen with Reynolds' pencil vies. 
 With Johnson's flame melodious BURNEY glows, 
 While the grand strain in smoother cadence flows. 
 And you, Malone, to critick learning dear, 
 Correct and elegant, refin' d though clear. 
 By studying him, acquir'd that classick taste. 
 Which high in Shakespeare's fane thy statue plac'd. 
 Near Johnson Steevens stands, on scenick ground, 
 Acute, laborious, fertile, and profound. 
 Ingenious Hawkesworth to this school we owe. 
 And scarce the pupil from the tutor know. 
 Here early parts accomplish' d J ONES sublimes, 
 
 ^ The observation of his having imitated Sir Thomas Brown has been made 
 by many people ; and lately it has been insisted on, and illustrated by a 
 variety of quotations from Brown, in one of the popular Essays Avritten by 
 the Rev. Mr. Knox, master of Tunbridge-school, whom I have set down in 
 my list of those who have sometimes not unsuccessfully imitated Dr. Johnson's 
 style.
 
 Age 41-43 •] JOHNSON'S STYLE. 163 
 
 And science blends with Asia's lofty rhymes : 
 
 Harmonious Jones ! who in his splendid strains 
 
 Sings Camdeo's sports on Agra's flowery plains, 
 
 In Hindu fictions, while we fondly trace 
 
 Love and the Muses, deck'd with Attick grace. 
 
 Amid these names can Boswell be forgot. 
 
 Scarce by North Britons now esteem'd a Scot?^ 
 
 Who to the sage devoted from his youth, 
 
 Imbib'd from him the sacred love of truth ; 
 
 The keen research, the exercise of mind, 
 
 And that best art, the art to know mankind. — 
 
 Nor was his energy confin'd alone 
 
 To friends around his philosophick throne ; 
 
 lis influence wide improv'd our letter d isle. 
 
 And liccid vigour niark'd the general style : 
 
 As Nile's proud waves, swoln from their oozy bed, 
 
 First o'er the neighbouring meads majestick spread ; 
 
 TiU gathering force, they more and more expand. 
 
 And with new virtue fertilise the land." 
 
 Johnson's language, however, must be allowed to be too 
 masculine for the delicate gentleness of female writing. His 
 ladies, therefore, seem strangely formal, even to ridicule ; and 
 are well denominated by the names which he has given them, 
 as Misella, Zozima, Properantia, Rhodoclia. 
 
 It has of late been the fashion to compare the style of Addison 
 and Johnson, and to depreciate, I think, very unjustly, the style 
 of Addison as nerveless and feeble, because it has not the 
 strength and energy of that of Johnson. Their prose may be 
 balanced like the poetry of Dryden and Pope. Both are 
 excellent, though in different ways. Addison writes with the 
 ease of a gentleman. His readers fancy that a wise and 
 accomplished companion is talking to them ; so that he 
 insinuates his sentiments and taste into their minds by an 
 imperceptible influence. Johnson writes like a teacher. He 
 
 1 [The following observation in Mr. Boswell' s Journal of a Tour to the 
 Hebrides, may sufficiently account for that Gentleman's being "now scarcely 
 esteemed a Scot " by many of his countrymen : " If he [Dr. Johnson] was 
 particularly prejudiced against the Scots, it was because they were more in 
 his way ; because he thought their success in England rather exceeded the 
 due proportion of their real merit ; and because he could not but sec in them 
 that nationality which, I believe, no liberal-minded Scotchman will deny." 
 Mr. Boswell, indeed, is so free from national prejudices, that he might with 
 equal propriety have been described as — 
 
 " Scarce by South Britons now esteem'd a Scot."— Courtenay.] 
 
 M 2
 
 i64 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750-52. 
 
 dictates to his readers as if from an academical chair. They 
 attend with awe and admiration ; and his precepts are impressed 
 upon them by his commanding eloquence. Addison's style, like 
 a light wine, pleases every body, from the first. Johnson's, like 
 a liquor of more body, seems too strong at first, but, by 
 degrees, is highly relished ; and such is the melody of his periods, 
 so much do they captivate the ear, and seize upon the attention, 
 that there is scarcely any writer, however inconsiderable, who 
 does not aim, in some degree, at the same species of excellence. 
 But let us not ungratefully undervalue that beautiful style, 
 which has pleasingly conveyed to us much instruction and enter- 
 tainment. Though comparatively weak, opposed to Johnson's 
 Herculean vigour, let us not call it positively feeble. Let us 
 remember the character of his style, as given by Johnson him- 
 self: "What he attempted, he performed ; he is never feeble, and 
 he did not wish to be energetic ; he is never rapid, and he 
 never stagnates. His sentences have neither studied amplitude 
 nor affected brevity ; his periods, though not diligently rounded, 
 are voluble and easy.^ Whoever wishes to attain an English 
 style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious, 
 must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison." ^ 
 
 Though the Rambler was not concluded till the year 1752, I 
 shall under this year, say all that I have to observe upon it. 
 Some of the translations of the mottos by himself, are admirably 
 done. He acknowledges to have received " elegant translations " 
 
 1 [When Johnson shewed me a proof-sheet of the character of Addison, 
 in which he so highly extols his style, I could not help observing, that it had 
 not been his own model, as no two styles could differ more from each other. 
 —"Sir, Addison had his style, and I have mine."— When I ventured to ask 
 him, whether the difference did not consist in this, that Addison's style was 
 full of idioms, colloquial phrases, and proverbs ; and his own more strictly 
 o-rammatical, and free from such phraseology and modes of speech as can 
 never be literally translated or understood by foreigners ; he allowed the 
 discrimination to be just.— Let any one who doubts it, try to translate one of 
 Addison's Spectators into Latin, French, or Italian ; and though so easy, 
 familiar, and elegant, to an Englishman, as to give the intellect no trouble ; 
 vet he would find the transfusion into another language extremely ditticult, 
 if not impossible. But a Rambler, Adventurer, or Idler, of Johnson, \TOuld 
 fall into any classical or European language, as easily as if it had been 
 originally conceived in it. — BURNEY.] . c a i j- ' 
 
 2 I shall probably, in another work, maintain the merit of Addison s 
 poetry, which has been very unjustly depreciated.
 
 AGE4I-43-] ''THE RAMBLERS 165 
 
 of many of them from Mr. James Elphinston ; and some are 
 very happily translated by a Mr. F. Lewis, of whom I never 
 heard more, except that Johnson thus described him to Mr. 
 Malone : " Sir, he lived in London, and hung loose upon 
 society." ^ The concluding paper of his Rambler is at once 
 dignified and pathetick. I cannot, however, but wish that he 
 had not ended it with an unnecessary Greek verse, translated - 
 also into an English couplet. It is too much like the conceit 
 of those dramatick poets, who used to conclude each act with 
 a rhyme; and the expression in the first line of his couplet, 
 " Celestial powers" though proper in Pagan poetry, is ill suited 
 to Christianity, with " a conformity " to which he consoles him- 
 self. How much better would it have been, to have ended 
 with the prose sentence " I shall never envy the honours which 
 wit and learning obtain in any other cause, if I can be num- 
 bered among the writers who have given ardour to virtue, and 
 confidence to truth." 
 
 His friend Dr. Birch, being now engaged in preparing an 
 edition of Ralegh's smaller pieces. Dr. Johnson wrote the 
 following letter to that gentleman : 
 
 "TO DR. BIRCH. 
 
 "Gough Square, May 12, 1750. 
 "SIR 
 
 " Knowing that you are now preparing to favour the publick 
 with a new edition of Ralegh's miscellaneous pieces, I have 
 taken the liberty to send you a Manuscript, which fell by chance 
 within my notice. I perceive no proofs of forgery in my ex- 
 amination of it ; and the owner tells me, that, as he has heard, 
 
 ^ [In the Gentleman's Magazine for October, 1752, p. 468, he is styled 
 " the Rev. Francis Lewis, of Chiswick." The late Lord Macartney, while 
 he resided at Chiswick, at my request, made some inquiry concerning him 
 at that place, but no intelligence was obtained. 
 
 The translations of the mottos supplied by Mr. Elphinston, appeared first 
 in the Edinburgh edition of the Rambler, and in some instances were revised 
 and improved, probably by Johnson, before they were inserted in the London 
 octavo edition. The translations of the mottos affixed to the first thirtv 
 numbers of the Rambler, were published, from the Edinburgh edition, in the 
 Gentleman's Magazine for September 1750, before the work was collected 
 into volumes. — Malone.] 
 
 ^ [Not in the original edition, in folio. — Malone.]
 
 1 66 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1750. 
 
 the handwriting is Sir Walter's. If you should find reason to 
 conclude it genuine, it will be a kindness to the owner, a blind 
 person,^ to recommend it to the booksellers. I am, Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 His just abhorrence of Milton's political notions was ever 
 strong. But this did not prevent his warm admiration of 
 Milton's great poetical merit, to which he has done illustrious 
 justice beyond all who have written upon the subject. And 
 this year he not only wrote a Prologue, which was spoken 
 by Mr. Garrick, before the acting of Comus, at Drury-lane- 
 theatre, for the benefit of Milton's grand-daughter, but took 
 a very zealous interest in the success of the charity. On the 
 day preceding the performance, he published the following 
 letter in the " General Advertiser," addressed to the printer of 
 that paper : 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " That a certain degree of reputation is acquired merely by 
 approving the works of genius, and testifying a regard to the 
 memory of authours, is a truth too evident to be denied ; and 
 therefore to ensure a participation of fame with a celebrated 
 poet, many who would, perhaps, have contributed to starve him 
 when alive, have heaped expensive pageants upon his grave.^ 
 
 " It must, indeed, be confessed, that this method of becoming 
 known to posterity with honour, is peculiar to the great, or at 
 least to the wealthy; but an opportunity now offers for almost 
 every individual to secure the praise of paying a just regard to 
 the illustrious dead, united with the pleasure of doing good to 
 the living. To assist industrious indigence, struggling with 
 distress, and debilitated by age, is a display of virtue, and an 
 acquisition of happiness and honour. 
 
 "Whoever, then, would be thought capable of pleasure in 
 reading the works of our incomparable Milton, and not so 
 destitute of gratitude as to refuse to lay out a trifle in rational 
 and elegant entertainment, for the benefit of his living remains, 
 for the exercise of their own virtue, the increase of their 
 reputation, and the pleasing consciousness of doing good, should 
 
 1 Mrs. Williams is probably the person meant. 
 
 2 [Alluding probably to Mr. Auditor Benson. See the Dunciad, b. iv. 
 Malone.]
 
 Age 41.] HIS INTEREST IN MIL TON'S GRANDDA UGHTER. 167 
 
 appear at Drury-lane theatre to-morrow, April 5, when Com us 
 will be performed for the benefit of Mrs. Elizabeth Foster, 
 grand-daughter to the authour/ and the only surviving branch 
 of his family. 
 
 " N.B. There will be a new prologue on the occasion, written 
 by the authour of Irene^ and spoken by Mr. Garrick ; and, by 
 particular desire, there will be added to the Masque a dramatick 
 satire, called Lethe, in which Mr. Garrick will perform." 
 
 In 175 1 we are to consider him as carrying on both his 
 Dictionary and Rambler. But he also wrote ''The Life of 
 Cheynel," * in the miscellany called " The Student ; " and the 
 Rev. Dr. Douglas having with uncommon acuteness clearly 
 detected a gross forgery and imposition upon the public by 
 William Lauder, a Scotch schoolmaster, who had with equal 
 impudence and ingenuity, represented Milton as a plagiary 
 from certain modern Latin poets, Johnson, who had been so far 
 imposed upon as to furnish a Preface and Postscript to his work, 
 now dictated a letter for Lauder, addressed to Dr. Douglas, 
 acknowledging his fraud in terms of suitable contrition. ^ 
 
 This extraordinary attempt of Lauder was no sudden effort. 
 He had brooded over it for many years : and to this hour it is 
 uncertain what his principal motive was, unless it were a vain 
 
 1 [Mrs. Elizabeth Foster died May 9, 1754. — CHALMERS.] [She died childless.] 
 
 2 Lest there should be any person, at any future period, absurd enough to 
 suspect that Johnson was a partaker in Lauder's fraud, or had any knowledge 
 of it, when he assisted him with his masterly pen, it is proper here to quote 
 the words of Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, at the time when he 
 detected the imposition. "It is to be hoped, nay it is expected, that the 
 elegant and nervous writer, whose judicious sentiments and inimitable style 
 point out the authour of Lauder's Preface and Postscript, will no longer 
 allow one to phime himself with his feathers, who appeareth so little to 
 deserve assistance : an assistance which I am persuaded would never have 
 been communicated, had there been the least suspicion of those facts which 
 I have been the instrument of conveying to the world in these sheets." — 
 Milton no Plagiary, 2d edit. p. 78. And his Lordship has been pleased now 
 to authorise me to say, in the strongest m.anner, that there is no ground 
 whatever for any unfavourable reflection against Dr. Johnson, who expressed 
 the strongest indignation against Lauder. 
 
 [Lauder renewed his attempts on Milton's character in 1754, in a pamphlet 
 entitled, "The Grand Impostor detected, or Milton convicted of forgery 
 against King Charles I. ;"— which was reviewed, probably by Johnson, in 
 the Gent. Mag. 1754, p. 97. — Chalmers.] 
 
 [Lauder afterwards went to Barbadoes, where he died very miserably about 
 the year 1771. — Malone.]
 
 1 68 
 
 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1751- 
 
 notion of his superiority, in being able, by whatever means, to 
 deceive mankind. To effect this, he produced certain passages 
 from Grotius, Masenius, and others, which had a faint re- 
 semblance to some parts of the " Paradise Lost." In these he 
 interpolated some fragments of Hog's Latin translation of that 
 poem, alleging that the mass thus fabricated was the archetype 
 from which Milton copied. These fabrications he published 
 from time to time in the Gentleman's Magazine ; and, exulting 
 in his fancied success, he, in 1750, ventured to collect them into 
 a pamphlet, entitled " An Essay on Milton's Use and Imitation 
 of the Moderns in his Paradise Lost." To this pamphlet Johnson 
 wrote a Preface, in full persuasion of Lauder's honesty, and a 
 Postscript recommending, in the most persuasive terms, a 
 subscription for the relief of the grand-daughter of Milton, of 
 whom he thus speaks : 
 
 " It is yet in the power of a great people to reward the poet 
 whose name they boast, and from their alliance to whose genius 
 they claim some kind of superiority to every other nation of 
 the earth ; that poet, whose works may possibly be read when 
 every other monument of British greatness shall be obliterated ; 
 to reward him, not with pictures or with medals, which, if he sees, 
 he sees with contempt, but with tokens of gratitude, which he, 
 perhaps, may even now consider as not unworthy the regard of 
 an immortal spirit." 
 
 Surely this is inconsistent with " enmity towards Milton," 
 which Sir John Hawkins imputes to Johnson upon this occasion, 
 adding, 
 
 " I could all along observe that Johnson seemed to approve 
 not only of the design, but of the argument ; and seemed to exult 
 in a persuasion, that the reputation of Milton was likely to 
 suffer by this discovery. That he was not privy to the im- 
 posture, I am well persuaded ; that he wished well to the argu- 
 ment, may be inferred from the Preface, which indubitably was 
 written by Johnson," 
 
 Is it possible for any man of clear judgement to suppose that 
 Johnson, who so nobly praised the poetical excellence of Milton 
 in a Postscript to this very " discovery," as he then supposed it,
 
 Age 42.] LAUDER ON MILTON. 169 
 
 could, at the same time, exult in a persuasion that the great 
 poet's reputation was likely to suffer by it ? This is an incon- 
 sistency of which Johnson was incapable ; nor can any thing 
 more be fairly inferred from the Preface, than that Johnson, 
 who was alike distinguished for ardent curiosity and love of 
 truth, was pleased with an investigation by which both were 
 gratified. That he was. actuated by these motives, and cer- 
 tainly by no unworthy desire to depreciate our great epick 
 poet, is evident from his own words ; for, after mentioning 
 the general zeal of men of genius and literature, "to advance 
 the honour, and distinguish the beauties of Paradise Lost," 
 he says, 
 
 " Among the inquiries to which this ardour of criticism has 
 naturally given occasion, none is more obscure in itself, or more 
 worthy of rational curiosity, than a retrospect of the progress 
 of this mighty genius in the construction of his work ; a view 
 of the fabrick gradually rising, perhaps, from small beginnings, 
 till its foundation rests in the centre, and its turrets sparkle 
 in the skies ; to trace back the structure through all its 
 varieties, to the simplicity of its fiirst plan ; to find what was 
 first projected, whence the scheme was taken, how it was 
 improved, by what assistance it was executed, and from what 
 stores the materials were collected ; whether its founder dug 
 them from the quarries of Nature, or demolished other buildings 
 to embeUish his own." ^ 
 
 Is this the language of one who wishes to blast the laurels 
 of Milton ? 
 
 Though Johnson's circumstances were at this time far from 
 being easy, his humane and charitable disposition was con- 
 stantly exerting itself. Mrs. Anna Williams,- daughter of a 
 
 ^ [" Proposals [written evidently by Johnson] for printing the Adamus 
 EXUL of Grotius, with a Translation and Notes by \Vm. Lauder, A.M." — 
 Gent. Mag. 1747, vol. 17, p. 404.— M alone.] 
 
 2 [" Before the calamity of total deprivation of sight befell Mrs. Williams, 
 she, with the assistance of her father, had acquired a knowledge of the French 
 and Italian languages, and had made great improvements in literature, which, 
 together with the exercise of her needle, at which she was very dexterous, as 
 well after the loss of her sight as before, contributed to support her under her 
 affliction, till a time when it was thought by her friends that relief might be 
 obtained from the hand of an operating surgeon. At the request of Dr. Johnson, 
 I went with her to a friend of mine, Mr. Samuel Sharp, senior surgeon of 
 Guy's Hospital, who before had given me to understand that he would couch
 
 I70 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [175 1. 
 
 very ingenious Welsh physician, and a woman of more than 
 ordinary talents in literature, having come to London in hopes 
 
 her gratis if the cataract was ripe ; but upon making the experiment it was 
 found otherwise, and that the crystalline humour was not sufficiently in- 
 spissated for the needle to take effect. She had been almost a constant 
 companion of Mrs. Johnson for some time before her decease, but had never 
 resided in the house ; afterwards, for the convenience of performing the 
 intended operation, Johnson took her home; and, upon the failure of that, 
 kept her as the partner of his dwelling till he removed into chambers. After- 
 wards, in 1766, upon his taking a house in Johnson's Court, in Fleet Street, 
 he invited her thither, and in that, and his last house, in Bolt Court, she 
 successively dwelt for the remainder of her life. The loss of her sight made 
 but a small abatement of her cheerfulness, and was scarce any interruption 
 of her studies. With the assistance of two female friends, she trans- 
 lated from the French of Pere La Bleterie TJie Life of the Eviperor Julian. 
 Mr. Garrick, ever disposed to help the afflicted, indulged her with a 
 benefit play that produced her two hundred pounds; and, in 1766, she 
 published, by subscription, a quarto volume of Miscellajiies, in prose and 
 verse, and thereby increased her little fund to three hundred pounds, which, 
 being prudently invested, yielded an income that, under such protection as 
 she experienced from Dr. Johnson, was sufficient for her support. She was 
 a woman of an enlightened understanding; plain, as it is called, in her person, 
 and easily provoked to anger, but possessing, nevertheless, some excellent 
 moral qualities, among which no one was more conspicuous than her desire 
 to promote the welfare and happiness of others, and of this she gave a signal 
 proof, by her solicitude in favour of an institution for the maintenance and 
 education of poor deserted females in the parish of St. Sepulchre, London, 
 supported by the voluntary contributions of ladies ; and, as the foundation- 
 stone of a fund for its future subsistence, she bequeathed to it the whole of 
 the little which she had been able to accumulate. To the endowments and 
 qualities here ascribed to her, may be added a larger share of experimental 
 prudence than is the lot of most of her sex. Johnson, in many exigencies, 
 found her an able counsellor, and seldom showed his wisdom more than when 
 he hearkened to her advice. In return, she received from his conversation 
 the advantages of religious and moral improvement, which she cultivated so 
 as in a great measure to smooth the constitutional asperity of her temper." 
 — Sir John Hawkins, pp. 322-24.] 
 
 [Mrs. Williams was a person extremely interesting. She had uncommon 
 firmness of mind, a boundless curiosity, retentive memory, and strong judg- 
 ment. She had various powers of pleasing. Her personal afflictions and 
 slender fortune she seemed to forget, when she had the power of doing an act 
 of kindness ; she was social, cheerful, and active, in a state of body that was 
 truly deplorable. Her regard to Dr. Johnson was formed with such strength 
 of judgment and firm esteem, that her voice never hesitated when she 
 repeated his maxims, or recited his good deeds ; though upon many other 
 occasions her want of sight led her to make so much use of her ear, as to 
 affect her speech. Mrs. Williams was blind before she was acquainted with 
 Dr. Johnson. She had many resources, though none very great. With the 
 Miss Wilkinsons she generally passed a part of the year, and received from 
 them presents, and from the first who died, a legacy of clothes and money. 
 The last of them, Mrs. Jane, left her an annual rent ; but from the blundering 
 manner of the will, I fear she never reaped the benefit of it. The lady left 
 money to erect a hospital for ancient maids : but the number she had allotted
 
 Age 42.] ANNA WILLIAMS. 171 
 
 of being cured of a cataract in both her eyes, which afterwards 
 ended in total bhndness, was kindly received as a constant 
 visitor at his house while Mrs. Johnson lived ; and, after her 
 death, having come under his roof in order to have an operation 
 upon her eyes performed with more comfort to her than in 
 lodgings, she had an apartment from him during the rest of 
 her life, at all times when he had a house. 
 
 In 1752 he was almost entirely occupied with his Dictionary. 
 The last paper of his Rambler was published March 2} this 
 
 being too great for the donation, the Doctor (Johnson) said, it would be better 
 to expunge the word maintain, and put in to starve such a number of old 
 maids. They asked him what name should be given it : he replied, "Let it 
 be called Jenny's Whim." [The name of a well-known tavern near Chelsea 
 in former days.] — " Lady Phillips made her a small annual allowance, and 
 some other Welsh ladies, to all of whom she was related. Mrs. Montague, 
 on the death of Mr. Montague, settled upon her (by deed) ten pounds per 
 annum. As near as I can calculate, Mrs. Williams had about thirty-five or 
 forty pounds a year. The furniture she used [in her apartment in Dr. 
 Johnson's house] was her own ; her expenses were small, tea and bread and 
 butter being at least half of her nourishment. Sometimes she had a servant 
 or charwoman to do the ruder offices of the house ; but she was herself active 
 and industrious. I have frequently seen her at work. Upon remarking one 
 day her facility in moving about the house, searching into drawers, and find- 
 ing books, without the help of sight, ' Believe me (said she), persons who 
 cannot do these common offices without sight, did but little while they enjoyed 
 that blessing.' Scanty circumstances, bad health, and blindness, are surely a 
 sufficient apology for her being sometimes impatient : her natural disposition 
 was good, friendly, and humane." — Lady Knight. {European Review, 
 Oct. 1799.) 
 
 " I see her now — a pale, shrunken old lady, dressed in scarlet, made in the 
 handsome French fashion of the time (1775), with a lace cap, with two 
 stiffened projecting wings on the temples, and a black lace hood over it. 
 Her temper has been recorded as marked with Welsh fire, and this might be 
 excited by some of the meaner inmates of the upper floors [of Dr. Johnson's 
 house] ; but her gentle kindness to me I never shall forget, or think con- 
 sistent with a bad temper. I know nobody from whose discourse there was 
 a better chance of deriving high ideas of moral rectitude." — Miss Hawkins' s 
 Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 152. Se&post, sub November, 1766. — Croker.] 
 
 ^ [Here the authour's memory failed him, for, according to the account 
 given in a former page (see p. 145), we should here read March 17 ; but in truth, 
 as has been already observed, the Rambler closed on Saturday, the y^z/'r/^^tv/Z/^ 
 of March ; at which time Mrs. Johnson was near her end, for she died on the 
 following Tuesday, March 17. \_Old Style. The Rambler ended March 14 
 New Style ; but March 3 Old Style ; fourteen, not three, days before Mrs. 
 Johnson's death.] Had the concluding paper of that work been written on the 
 day of her death, it would have been still more extraordinary than it is, 
 considering the extreme grief into which the authour was plunged by that 
 event. — The melancholy cast of that concluding essay is sufficiently accounted 
 for by the situation of Mrs. Johnson at the time it was written ; and her death 
 three [fourteen] days afterwards put an end to the Paper. — Malone.]
 
 172 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1752. 
 
 ye^r ; after which, there was a cessation for some time of any 
 exertion of his talents as an essayist. But, in the same 
 year, Dr. Hawkesworth, who was his warm admirer, and a 
 studious imitator of his style,^ and then lived in great in- 
 timacy with him, began a periodical paper, entitled, "THE 
 Adventurer," in connection with other gentlemen, one of 
 whom was Johnson's much-loved friend, Dr. Bathurst ; and, 
 without doubt, they received many valuable hints from his 
 conversation, most of his friends having been so assisted in 
 the course of their works. 
 
 That there should be a suspension of his literary labours 
 during a part of the year 1752, will not seem strange, when it is 
 considered that soon after closing his Rambler, he suffered a loss 
 which, there can be no doubt, affected him with the deepest 
 distress. For on the 17th of March, O.S., his wife died. Why 
 Sir John Hawkins should unwarrantably take upon him even to 
 suppose that Johnson's fondness for her was dissembled (meaning 
 simulated or assumed,) and to assert, that if it was not the case, 
 " it was a lesson he had learned by rote," I cannot conceive ; 
 unless it proceeded from a want of similar feelings in his own 
 breast. To argue from her being much older than Johnson, or 
 any other circumstances, that he could not really love her, is 
 absurd ; for love is not a subject of reasoning, but of feeling, 
 and therefore there are no common principles upon which one 
 can persuade another concerning it. Every man feels for him- 
 self, and knows how he is affected by particular qualities in 
 the person he admires, the impressions of which are too minute 
 and delicate to be substantiated in language. 
 
 The following very solemn and affecting prayer was found 
 after Dr. Johnson's decease, by his servant, Mr. P'rancis Barber, 
 who delivered it to my worthy friend the Reverend Mr. Strahan, 
 Vicar of Islington, who at my earnest request has obligingly 
 favoured me with a copy of it, which he and I compared with 
 the original. I present it to the world as an undoubted proof of 
 a circumstance in the character of my illustrious friend, which, 
 though some, whose hard minds I never shall envy, may attack 
 
 ^ [Perhaps the most successful of all his contemporaries. See, as specimens, 
 Gentleman's Magazine, vol. x.\x. p. 554, and .xxxi. p. 293. — Chalmers.]
 
 Age 43-] DEATH OF JOHNSON'S WIFE. 173 
 
 as superstitious, will I am sure endear him more to numbers of 
 good men. I have an additional, and that a personal motive for 
 presenting it, because it sanctions what I myself have always 
 maintained, and am fond to indulge : 
 
 "April 26th, 1752, being after 12 at Night of the 25th. 
 " O Lord ! Governour of heaven and earth, in whose hands 
 are embodied and departed Spirits, if thou hast ordained the 
 Souls of the Dead to minister to the Living, and appointed my 
 departed Wife to have care of me, grant that I may enjoy the 
 good effects of her attention and ministration, whether exercised 
 by appearance, impulses, dreams, or in any other manner 
 agreeable to thy Government, Forgive my presumption, 
 enlighten my ignorance, and however meane agents are em- 
 ployed, grant me the blessed influences of thy holy Spirit, 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." 
 
 What actually followed upon this most interesting piece of 
 devotion by Johnson, we are not informed ; but I, whom it has 
 pleased GOD to afflict in a similar manner to that which occa- 
 sioned it, have certain experience of benignant communication 
 by dreams.^ 
 
 That his love for his wife was of the most ardent kind, and, 
 during the long period of fifty years, was unimpaired by the 
 lapse of time, is evident from various passages in the series 
 of his Prayers and Meditations, published by the Rev. Mr. 
 Strahan,^ as well as from other memorials, two of which I 
 select, as strongly marking the tenderness and sensibility of 
 his mind. 
 
 "March 28, 1753. I kept this day as the anniversary of my 
 Tetty's death, with prayer and tears in the morning. Li the 
 evening I prayed for her conditionally, if it were lawful." 
 
 "April 23, 1753. I know not whether I do not too much 
 
 ^ [Boswell's wife died ten months before the pubhcation of his Life of 
 Johnson^ 
 
 ^ [The originals of this pubhcation are now deposited in Pembroke College. 
 It is to be observed, that they consist of a few little memorandum books, and 
 a great number of separate scraps of paper, and bear no marks of having 
 been arranged or intended for publication by Dr. Johnson. Each prayer is 
 on a separate piece of paper, generally a sheet — but sometimes a fragment — 
 of note paper. The memoranda and observations are generally in little books 
 of a few leaves sewed together. — Croker.]
 
 174 BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1752. 
 
 indulge the vain longings of affection ; but I hope they 
 intenerate my heart, and that when I die like my Tetty, this 
 affection will be acknowledged in a happy interview, and that 
 in the mean time I am incited by it to piety. I will, however, 
 not deviate too much from common and received methods of 
 devotion." 
 
 Her wedding-ring, when she became his wife, was, after her 
 death, preserved by him, as long as he lived, with an affectionate 
 care, in a little round wooden box, in the inside of which he 
 pasted a slip of paper, thus inscribed by him in fair characters, 
 as follows : 
 
 ''Eheu ! 
 
 Eliz. Johnson, 
 Nuptajnl.(f 1736, 
 Mortna, eheu ! 
 Mart. \f 1752." 
 
 After his death, Mr. Francis Barber, his faithful servant and 
 residuary legatee, offered this memorial of tenderness to Mrs. 
 Lucy Porter, Mrs. Johnson's daughter ; but she having declined 
 to accept of it, he had it enamelled as a mourning ring for his 
 old master, and presented it to his wife, Mrs. Barber, who now 
 has it. 
 
 The state of mind in which a man must be upon the death 
 of a woman whom he sincerely loves, had been in his con- 
 templation many years before. In his IRENE, w^e find the 
 following fervent and tender speech of Demetrius, addressed to 
 his Aspasia : 
 
 " From those bright regions of eternal day. 
 Where now thou shin'st amongst thy fellow saints, 
 Array'd in purer light, look down on me ! 
 In pleasing visions and assuasive dreams, 
 O ! soothe my soul, and teach me how to lose thee." 
 
 I have, indeed, been told by Mrs. Desmoulins, who, before 
 her marriage, lived for some time with Mrs, Johnson at 
 Hampstead, that she indulged herself in country air and nice 
 living, at an unsuitable expense, while her husband was 
 drudging in the smoke of London, and that she by no means 
 treated him with that complacency which is the most engaging
 
 Age 43.] DEA TH OF JOHNSON'S WIFE. 175 
 
 quality in a wife,^ But all this is perfectly compatible with 
 his fondness for her, especially when it is remembered that 
 he had a high opinion of her understanding and that the 
 impressions which her beauty, real or imaginary, had originally 
 made upon his fancy, being continued by habit, had not been 
 effaced, though she herself was doubtless much altered for 
 the worse. The dreadful shock of separation took place in 
 the night ; and he immediately despatched a letter to his 
 friend, the Reverend Dr. Taylor, which, as Taylor told me, 
 expressed grief in the strongest manner he had ever read ; 
 so that it is much to be regretted it has not been preserved.^ 
 The letter was brought to Dr. Taylor, at his house in the 
 Cloysters, Westminster, about three in the morning ; and as 
 it signified an earnest desire to see him, he got up, and went 
 to Johnson as soon as he was dressed, and found him in 
 
 1 [" I asked him if he ever disputed with his wife " (I had heard that he 
 loved her passionately). " Perpetually," said he : "my wife had a particular 
 reverence for cleanhness, and desired the praise of neatness in her dress and 
 furniture, as many ladies do, till they become troublesome to their best 
 friends, slaves to their own besoms, and only sigh for the hour of sweeping their 
 husbands out of the house as dirt and useless lumber : a clean floor is so 
 comfortable, she would say sometimes, by way of twitting ; till at last I told 
 her, that I thought we had had talk enough about the floor, we would now 
 have a touch at the ceiling." On another occasion I have heard him blame 
 her for a fault many people have, of setting the miseries of their neighbours, 
 half unintentionally, half wantonly, before their eyes, showing them the bad 
 side of their profession, situation, &c. He said, " She would lament the 
 dependence of pupilage to a young heir, &c., and once told a waterman who 
 rowed her along the Thames in a wherry, that he was no happier than a 
 galley-slave, one being chained to the oar by authority, the other by want. She 
 read comedy better than any body he ever heard (he said) ; in tragedy she 
 mouthed too much." Garrick, however, told Mr. Thrale that she was a little 
 painted puppet of no value at all, and quite disguised with affectation, full of 
 odd airs of rural elegance ; and he made out some comical scenes, by mimick- 
 ing her in a dialogue he pretended to have overheard. Mr. Johnson has told 
 me that her hair was eminently beautiful, quite blonde like that of a baby ; 
 but that she fretted about the colour, and was always desirous to dye it black, 
 which he very judiciously hindered her from doing. The picture I found of 
 her at Lichfield was very pretty, and her daughter, Mrs. Lucy Porter, said it 
 was like. — Mrs. Piozzi.] 
 
 ^ [In the Gentleman's Magazine for February, 1794, (p. 100,) was printed a 
 letter pretending to be that written by Johnson on the death of his wife. 
 But it is merely a transcript of the 41st number of " The Idler," on the death 
 of a friend. A fictitious date, March 17, 1751, O.S. was added by some 
 person, previously to this paper's being sent to the publisher of that miscellany, 
 to give a colour to this deception. — Malone.]
 
 176 BOSWELES LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1752. 
 
 tears and in extreme agitation. After being a little while 
 together, Johnson requested him to join with him in prayer. 
 He then prayed extempore, as did Dr. Taylor ; and thus by 
 means of that piety which was ever his primary object, his 
 troubled mind was, in some degree, soothed and composed. 
 The next day he wrote as follows : 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND DR. TAYLOR. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " Let me have your company and instruction. Do not 
 live away from me. My distress is great. 
 
 " Pray desire Mrs. Taylor to inform me what mourning I 
 should buy for my mother and Miss Porter, and bring a note in 
 writing with you. 
 
 " Remember me in your prayers, for vain is the help of man. 
 
 " I am, dear Sir, &c., 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "March 18, 1752." 
 
 That his sufferings upon the death of his wife were severe, 
 beyond what are commonly endured, I have no doubt, from 
 the information of many who were then about him, to none 
 of whom I give more credit than to Mr. Francis Barber, 
 his faithful negro servant,^ who came into his family about 
 a fortnight after the dismal event. These sufferings were 
 aggravated by the melancholy inherent in his constitution ; 
 and although he probably was not oftener in the wrong than 
 she was, in the little disagreements which sometimes troubled 
 his married state, during which, he owned to me, that the 
 gloomy irritability of his existence was more painful to him 
 
 ^ Francis Barber was born in Jamaica, and was brought to £ngland in 
 1750 by Colonel Bathurst, father of Johnson's very intimate friend, Dr. 
 Bathurst. He was sent for some time to the Reverend Mr. Jackson's school 
 at Barton, in Yorkshire. The Colonel by his will left him his freedom, and Dr. 
 Bathurst was willing that he should enter into Johnson's service, in which he 
 continued from 1752 till Johnson's death, with the exception of two intervals ; 
 in one of which, upon some difference with his master, he went and served 
 an apothecary in Cheapside, but still visited Dr. Johnson occasionally ; in 
 another, he took a fancy to go to sea. Part of the time, indeed, he was, by 
 the kindness of his master, at a school in Northamptonshire, that he might 
 have the advantage of some learning. So early, and so lasting a connection 
 was there between Dr. Johnson and this humble friend.
 
 Age 43-] DEATH. OF JOHNSON'S WIFE. 177 
 
 than ever, he might very naturally after her death, be tenderly 
 disposed to charge himself with slight omissions and offences, 
 the sense of which would give him much uneasiness.^ Accord- 
 ingly we find, about a year after her decease, that he thus 
 addressed the Supreme Being : 
 
 " O Lord, who givest the grace of repentance, and hearest 
 . the prayers of the penitent, grant that by true contrition I may 
 obtain forgiveness of all the sins committed, and of all duties 
 neglected, in my union with the wife whom thou hast taken 
 from me ; for the neglect of joint devotion, patient exhortation, 
 and mild instruction." ^ 
 
 The kindness of his heart, notwithstanding the impetuosity 
 of his temper, is well known to his friends ; and I cannot 
 trace the smallest foundation for the following dark and 
 uncharitable assertion by Sir John Hawkins : " The apparition 
 of his departed wife was altogether of the terrifick kind, and 
 hardly afforded him a hope that she was in a state of happi- 
 ness." ^ That he, in conformity with the opinion of many 
 of the most able, learned, and pious Christians in all ages, 
 supposed that there was a middle state after death, previous 
 to the time at which departed souls are finally received to 
 eternal felicity, appears, I think, unquestionably from his 
 devotions : — " And, O Lord, so far as it may be lawful in 
 me, I commend to thy fatherly goodness tJie soul of my 
 departed wife ; beseeching thee to grant her whatever is best 
 in her present state, and finally to receive Jier to eternal Jiappi- 
 ness." * But this state has not been looked upon with horrour, 
 but only as less gracious. 
 
 He deposited the remains of Mrs. Johnson in the church 
 of Bromley in Kent,^ to which he was probably led by the 
 residence of his friend Hawkesworth at that place. The funeral 
 sermon which he composed for her, which was never preached, 
 but having been given to Dr. Taylor, has been published 
 
 ^ [See his beautiful and affecting Rambler, No. 54. — ]\1 alone.] 
 
 2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 19. 
 
 ^ Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 316. 
 
 ^ Prayers and Meditations, p. 20. 
 
 ^ [A few months before his death Johnson honoured her memory by the 
 
 VOL. L N
 
 178 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1752. 
 
 since his death, is a performance of uncommon excellence, 
 and full of rational and pious comfort to such as are depressed 
 by that severe affliction which Johnson felt when he wrote 
 it. When it is considered that it was written in such an 
 agitation of mind, and in the short interval between her death 
 and burial, it cannot be read without wonder. 
 
 P>om Mr. Francis Barber I have had the following authentick 
 and artless account of the situation in which he found him 
 recently after his wife's death : 
 
 " He was in great affliction. Mrs. Williams was then living in 
 his house, which was in Gough-square. He was busy with the 
 Dictionary. Mr. Shiels, and some others of the gentlemen who 
 had formerly written for him, used to come about him. He had 
 then little for himself, but frequently sent money to Mr. Shiels 
 when in distress. The friends who visited him at that time were 
 chiefly Dr. Bathurst,^ and Mr. Diamond, an apothecary in Cork- 
 street, Burlington-gardens, with whom he and Mrs. Williams 
 generally dined every Sunday. There was a talk of his going 
 to Iceland with him, which would probably have happened, had 
 he lived. There were also Mr. Cave, Dr. Hawkesworth, Mr. 
 Ryland, merchant on Tower-hill, Mrs. Masters, the poetess,2who 
 
 following epitaph, which was inscribed on her tomb-stone, in the church of 
 Bromley : 
 
 " Hie conduntur reliquiae 
 
 ELIZABETHS, 
 
 Antiqua Jarvisiorum gente, 
 
 Peatlingte, apud Leicestrienses, ortas ; 
 
 Formosae, cultse, ingeniosa;, pi^ ; 
 
 Uxoris, primis nuptiis, Henrici Porter, 
 
 Secundis Samuelis Johnson : 
 
 Qui multum amatam, diuque defletam 
 
 Hoc lapide contexit. 
 
 Obiit Londini, Mense Mart. 
 
 A.D. MDCCLII." Malone.] 
 
 ^ Dr. Bathurst, though a physician of no inconsiderable merit, had not 
 the good fortune to get much practice in London. He was, therefore, willing 
 to accept of employment abroad, and, to the regret of all who knew him, 
 fell a sacrifice to the destructive climate, in the expedition against the 
 Havannah. Mr. Langton recollects the following passage in a letter from 
 Dr. Johnson to Mr. Beauclerk : "The Havannah is taken ; — a conquest too 
 dearly obtained ; for Bathurst died before it. 
 
 " Vix PriaJiuis tanti totaqiie Trojaftdt" 
 
 [Before Dr. Bathurst went abroad, he was chosen physician to the 
 Middlesex Hospital, Sept. 1754. — Chalmers.] 
 
 - [Mary Masters published a small volume of poems about 173S, and, in 
 1755, " Familiar Letters and Poems," in octavo. She is supposed to have 
 died about 1759. — Croker.]
 
 AGE 43] JOHNSON'S FRIENDS— ROBERT LEVET. 179 
 
 lived with Mr. Cave, Mrs. Carter, and sometimes Mrs. Macaulay ; 
 also Mrs. Gardiner, wife of a tallow-chandler on Snow-hill, not in 
 the learned way, but a worthy good woman ; Mr. (now Sir 
 Joshua) Reynolds ; Mr. Miller, Mr. Dodsley, Mr. Bouquet, Mr. 
 Payne, of Paternoster-row, bookseller ; Mr. Strahan, the printer ; 
 the Earl of Orrery, Lord Southwell, Mr. Garrick." 
 
 Many are, no doubt, omitted in this catalogue of his friends, 
 and in particular, his humble friend Mr. Robert Levet,^ an 
 obscure practiser in physick amongst the lower people, his fees 
 being sometimes very small sums, sometimes whatever provi- 
 sions his patients could afford him ; but of such extensive practice 
 in that way, that Mrs. Williams has told me his walk was from 
 Hounsditch to Marybone. It appears from Johnson's diary 
 that their acquaintance commenced about the year 1746; and 
 such was Johnson's predilection for him, and fanciful estimation 
 of his moderate abilities, that I have heard him say he should 
 not be satisfied, though attended by all the College of Physicians 
 unless he had Mr. Levet with him. Ever since I was acquainted 
 with Dr. Johnson, and many years before, as I have been 
 assured by those who knew him earlier, Mr. Levet had an 
 apartment in his house or his chambers, and waited upon him 
 every morning, through the whole course of his late and tedious 
 breakfast. He was of a strange, grotesque appearance, stiff and 
 formal in his manner, and seldom said a word while any 
 company was present.'-^ 
 
 The circle of his friends, indeed, at this time was extensive 
 and various, far beyond what has been generally imagined.^ 
 
 1 [Robert Levet, though an Englishman by birth, became early in life a 
 waiter at a coffee-house in Paris ; where the surgeons who frequented it, find- 
 ing him of an inquisitive turn, and attentive to their conversation, made a purse 
 for him, and gave him some instructions in their art. They afterwards 
 furnished him with the means of other knowledge, by procuring him free 
 admission to such lectures in pharmacy and anatomy as were read by the 
 ablest professors of that period. Where the middle part of his life was spent 
 is uncertain. He resided about twenty years under Johnson's hospitable 
 roof, who never wished him to be regarded as an inferior, or treated him like 
 a dependent. — Steevens.] 
 
 ^ [A more particular account of this person may be found in the Gentle- 
 man's Magazine for February, 1785. It originally appeared in the St. 
 James's Chronicle, and, I believe, was written by the late George 
 Steevens, Esq. — Malone.] 
 
 ^ [Mr. Murphy, who is, as to this period, better authority than Mr. Boswell, 
 says, "It was late in life before he had the habit of mixing, otherwise than 
 
 N 2
 
 I So 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1752. 
 
 To trace his acquaintance with each particular person, if it could 
 be done, would be a task, of which the labour would not be 
 repaid by the advantage. But exceptions are to be made ; one 
 of which must be a friend so eminent as Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 who was truly his dulce deciis, and with whom he maintained 
 an uninterrupted intimacy to the last hour of his life. When 
 Johnson lived in Castle-street, Cavendish-square, he used 
 frequently to visit two ladies who lived opposite him. Miss 
 Cotterells, daughters of Admiral Cotterell. Reynolds used 
 also to visit there, and thus they met> Mr. Reynolds, as 
 I have observed above, had, from the first reading of his 
 Life of Savage, conceived a very high admiration of 
 Johnson's powers of writing. His conversation no less 
 delighted him ; and he cultivated his acquaintance with the 
 laudable zeal of one who was ambitious of general improve- 
 ment. Sir Joshua, indeed, was lucky enough, at the very first 
 meeting, to make a remark, which was so much above the 
 common-place style of conversation, that Johnson at once 
 perceived that Reynolds had the habit of thinking for himself- 
 The ladies were regretting the death of a friend, to whom they 
 
 occasionally, with polite company ; " and Dr. Harwood favoured me with the 
 following memorandum, in Johnson's writing, made about this time, of certain 
 visits which he was to pay (perhaps on his return from Oxford in 1754) ; and 
 which, as it contains the names of some of the highest and lowest of his 
 acquaintance, is probably a list of nearly all his friends : — 
 " Visits to 
 
 Brodie 
 
 Fowke 
 
 Taylor 
 
 Elphinston 
 
 Osborne 
 
 Garden 
 
 Richardson 
 
 Strahan 
 
 Millar 
 
 Tonson 
 
 Dodsley 
 
 1 [The two Miss Cotterells lived opposite to Reynolds in Great Newport 
 Street, but it was not until 1753 (Reynolds's age being then 30 and Johnson's 
 44) that Reynolds removed from apartments at No. 104 St. Martin's Lane, 
 then an artist's quarter, to the full possession of a house at No. 5, Great 
 Newport Street. The acquaintance could not have been earlier than the 
 beo-inning of 1753, but probably began then, as Francis Barber, by confusion 
 of memory, placed Reynolds among the friends who visited Johnson after 
 his wife's death the year before.] 
 
 Reynolds 
 
 Henry 
 
 Craster 
 
 Lenox 
 
 Tyers 
 
 Simpson 
 
 Gully 
 
 Hawkins 
 
 Rose 
 
 Hawkesworth 
 
 Ryland 
 
 Giffard 
 
 Gardiner 
 
 Payne 
 
 Gregory 
 
 Drew 
 
 Newberry 
 
 Desmoulins 
 
 Lawrence 
 
 Bathurst 
 
 Lloyd 
 
 Garrick 
 
 Grainger 
 
 Sherrard." 
 
 Robinson, sen. 
 
 Baker 
 
 — Croker.] 
 
 Boyle 
 
 Weston 
 
 
 Wilson 
 
 Millar 

 
 Age 43-] JOHNSON'S FRIENDS. i8i 
 
 owed great obligations ; upon which Reynolds observed, " You 
 have, however,' the comfort of being relieved from a burthen of 
 o-ratitude." They were shocked a little at this alleviating 
 suggestion, as too selfish ; but Johnson defended it in his clear 
 and forcible manner, and was much pleased with the mind, the 
 fair view of human nature,^ which it exhibited, like some of 
 the reflections of Rochefaucault. The consequence was, that 
 he went home with Reynolds and supped with him. 
 
 Sir Joshua told me a pleasant characteristical anecdote of 
 Johnson, about the time of their first acquaintance. When they 
 were one evening together at Miss Cotterells', the then Duchess 
 of Argyle,'^ and another lady of high rank came in. Johnson 
 thinking that the Miss Cotterells were too much engrossed by 
 them, and that he and his friend was neglected, as low com- 
 pany of whom they were somewhat ashamed, grew angry : and 
 resolving to shock their supposed 'pride, by making their great 
 visitors imagine that his friend and he were low indeed, he 
 addressed himself in a loud tone to Mr. Reynolds, saying, 
 " How much do you think you and I could get in a week, 
 if we were to zvoj'k as hard as we could .'' " — as if they had 
 been common mechanicks. 
 
 His acquaintance with Bennet Langton, Esq., of Langton, in 
 Lincolnshire,^ another much valued friend, commenced soon 
 
 ^ Qohnson himself has a sentiment somewhat similar in his 87th Rambler : 
 " There are minds so impatient of inferiority, that their gratitude is a species 
 of revenge, and they return benefits, not because recompence is a pleasure 
 but because obligation is a pain." — J. Boswell, jun.] 
 
 2 [Jane Warburton, second wife of John second Duke of Argyle. His 
 Grace died 1743- She survived till 1767. — Croker.] 
 
 ^ [Mr. Langton was only fifteen when the Rambler was terminated, having 
 been born about 1737, and he entered Trinity College, Oxford, July 7, 1757. 
 S J much of his history is told with that of Dr. Johnson' s, that it is unnecessary 
 to say more in this place, except that he was remarkable for his knowledge of 
 Greek, and on Dr. Johnson's death, he succeeded him as professor of ancient 
 literature in the Royal .Academy. He died on the loth of December, 1801, and 
 was buried at Southampton. The following description of his person and 
 appearance later in life is interesting, and its resemblance is confirmed by a 
 beautiful portrait by Reynolds in the possession of his family. '' O ! that we 
 could sketch him with his mild countenance, his elegant features, and his 
 sweet smile, sitting with one leg twisted round the other, as if fearing to 
 occupy more space than was equitable ; his person inclining forward, as if 
 wanting strength to support his height, and his arms crossed over his bosom, 
 or his hands locked together on his knee; his oblong gold-mounted snuff-box,
 
 1 82 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1752. 
 
 after the conclusion of liis Rambler; which that gentleman, then 
 a youth, had read with so much admiration, that he came to 
 London chiefly with a view of endeavouring to be introduced to 
 its authour. By a fortunate chance, he happened to take 
 lodgings in a house where Mr. Levet frequently visited ; and 
 having mentioned his wish to his landlady, she introduced him 
 to ]\Ir. Levet, who readily obtained Johnson's permission to bring 
 Mr. Langton to him ; as, indeed, Johnson, during the whole 
 course of his life, had no shyness, real or affected, but was easy 
 of access to all who were properly recommended, and even 
 wished to see numbers at his levee, as his morning circle of 
 company might, with strict propriety, be called. Mr. Langton 
 was exceedingly surprised when the sage first appeared. He 
 had not received the smallest intimation of his figure, dress, or 
 manner. From perusing his writings, he fancied he should see 
 a decent, well-drest, in short, a remarkably decorous philosopher. 
 Instead of which, down from his bedchamber, about noon, came, 
 as newly risen, a huge uncouth figure, with a little dark wig 
 which scarcely covered his head, and his clothes hanging loose 
 about him. But his conversation was so rich, so animated, and so 
 forcible, and his religious and political notions so congenial with 
 those in which Langton had been educated, that he conceived 
 for him that veneration and attachment which he ever preserved. 
 Johnson was not the less ready to love Mr. Langton, for his 
 being of a very ancient family ; for I have heard him say, with 
 pleasure, " Langton, Sir, has a grant of free-warren from Henry 
 the Second ; and Cardinal Stephen Langton, in King John's 
 reign, was of this family." 
 
 Mr. Langton afterwards went to pursue his studies at Trinity 
 College, Oxford, where he formed an acquaintance with his 
 fellow-student, Mr. Topham Beauclerk ; ^ who, though their 
 
 taken from the waistcoat pocket opposite his hand, and either remaining 
 between his fingers or set by him on the table, but which was never used but 
 when hi5 mind was occupied on conversation ; so soon as conversation 
 began, the box was produced." — Miss Hawkins's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 282. — 
 Croker.] 
 
 1 [Topham Beauclerk, only son of Lord Sidney Beauclerk, third son of the 
 first Duke of St. Albans, was born in 1739, ^"^ entered Trinity College, 
 Oxford, in November, 1757.— Croker.]
 
 Age 43-] BENNE T LA NG TON— TOP HA M BE A UCLERK 1 83 
 
 opinions and modes of life were so different, that it seemed 
 utterly improbable that they should at all agree, had so ardent 
 a love of literature, so acute an understanding, such elegance of 
 manners, and so well discerned the excellent qualities of Mr. 
 Langton, a gentleman eminent not only for worth and learning, 
 but for an inexhaustible fund of entertaining conversation, that 
 they became intimate friends. 
 
 Johnson, soon after this acquaintance began, passed a con- 
 siderable time at Oxford. He at first thought it strange that 
 Langton should associate so much with one who had the 
 character of being loose, both in his principles and practice : 
 but, by degrees, he himself was fascinated. Mr. Beauclerk's 
 being of the St. Alban's family, and having, in some particulars, 
 a resemblance to Charles the Second, contributed, in Johnson's 
 imagination, to throw a lustre upon his other qualities ; and in a 
 short time, the moral, pious Johnson, and the gay, dissipated 
 Beauclerk, were companions. " What a coalition ! (said Garrick, 
 when he heard of this : ) I shall have my old friend to bail out of 
 the Round-house." But I can bear testimony that it was a very 
 agreeable association. Beauclerk was too polite, and valued 
 learning and wit too much, to offend Johnson by sallies of 
 infidelity or licentiousness ; and Johnson delighted in the good 
 qualities of Beauclerk, and hoped to correct the evil. In- 
 numerable were the scenes in which Johnson was amused by 
 these young men. Beauclerk could take more liberty with him, 
 than any body with whom I ever saw him ; but, on the other 
 hand, Beauclerk was not spared by his respectable companion, 
 when reproof was proper. Beauclerk had such a propensity to 
 satire, that at one time Johnson said to him, "You never open 
 your mouth but with intention to give pain ; and you have often 
 given me pain, not from the power of what you said, but from 
 seeing your intention." At another time applying to him, with 
 a slight alteration, a line of Pope, he said, 
 
 " ' Thy love of folly, and thy scorn of fools ' — 
 
 Every thing thou dost shews the one, and every thing thou 
 say'st, the other." At another time he said to him, " Thy body
 
 iS4 BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1752-53. 
 
 ?s all vice, and thy mind all virtue." Bcauclerk not seeming to 
 relish the compliment Johnson said, " Nay, Sir, Alexander the 
 Great, marching in triumph into Babylon, could not have 
 desired to have had more said to him." 
 
 Johnson was some time with Beauclerk at his house at 
 Windsor, where he was entertained with experiments in natural 
 philosophy. One Sunday, when the weather was very fine, 
 Beauclerk enticed him, insensibly, to saunter about all the 
 morning. They went into a church-yard in the time of divine 
 service, and Johnson laid himself down at his ease upon one 
 of the tombstones. " Now, Sir, (said Beauclerk) you are like 
 Hogarth's Idle Apprentice." When Johnson got his pension, 
 Beauclerk said to him, in a humourous phrase of Falstaff, " I 
 hope you'll now purge and live cleanly, like a gentleman." 
 
 One night when Beauclerk and Langton had supped at a 
 tavern in London, and sat till about three in the morning, it 
 came into their heads to go and knock up Johnson, and see 
 if they could prevail on him to join them in a ramble. They 
 rapped violently at the door of his chambers in the Temple, 
 till at last he appeared in his shirt, with his little black wig 
 on the top of his head, instead of a nightcap, and a poker in 
 his hand, imagining, probably, that some ruffians were coming 
 to attack him. When he discovered who they were, and was 
 told their errand, he smiled, and with great good humour agreed 
 to their proposal : " What, is it you, you dogs ! I'll have a frisk 
 with you." ^ He was soon dressed, and they sallied forth 
 together into Covent-Garden, when the greengrocers and 
 fruiterers were beginning to arrange their hampers, just come 
 in from the country. Johnson made some attempts to help 
 them ; but the honest gardeners stared so at his figure and 
 manner, and odd interference, that he soon saw his services 
 were not relished. They then repaired to one of the neigh- 
 bouring taverns, and made a bowl of that liquor called Bishops 
 which Johnson had always liked : while, in joyous contempt 
 
 ^ [Johnson, as Mr. Keinblc observes to me, might here have had in his 
 thoughts the words of Sir John Brute (a character which doubtless he had 
 seen represented by Garrick), who uses nearly the same expression in the 
 "Provoked Wife," Act iii., sc. i.— Malone.]
 
 Ag^ ^y^P^LANGTON—BEAUCLERK—'' TBE ADVENTURER:' 185 
 
 of sleep, from which he had been roused, he repeated the festive 
 
 Hnes, 
 
 "Short, O short, then be thy reign, 
 And give us to the world again ! " ^ 
 
 They did not stay long, but walked down to the Thames, 
 took a boat, and rowed to Billingsgate. Beauclerk and Johnson 
 were so well pleased with their amusement, that they resolved 
 to persevere in dissipation for the rest of the day : but Langton 
 deserted them, being engaged to breakfast with some young 
 Ladies. Johnson scolded him for "leaving his social friends, 
 to go and sit with a set of wretched iin-idea'd girls." Garrick 
 being told of this ramble, said to him smartly, " I heard of 
 your frolick t'other night. You'll be in the Chronicle." Upon 
 which Johnson afterwards observed, " He durst not do such a 
 thing. His zvife would not let him ! " 
 
 He entered upon this year, 1753, with his usual piety, as 
 appears from the following prayer, which I transcribed from 
 that part of his diary which he burned a few days before his 
 death : 
 
 "Jan. I, 1753, N.S., which I shall use for the future. 
 
 "Almighty GOD, who hast continued my life to this day, 
 grant that, by the assistance of thy Holy Spirit, I may improve 
 the time which thou shalt grant me, to my eternal salvation. 
 Make me to remember, to thy glory, thy judgements and thy 
 mercies. Make me so to consider the loss of my wife, whom 
 thou hast taken from me, that it may dispose me by thy grace, 
 to lead the residue of my life in thy fear. Grant this, O LORD, 
 for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen." 
 
 He now relieved the drudgery of his Dictionary, and the 
 melancholy of his griefs, by taking an active part in the com- 
 position of " The Adventurer," in which he began to write, 
 April 10, marking his essays with the signature T., by which 
 most of his papers in that collection are distinguished : those, 
 however, which have that signature, and also that of Mysargyi'us, 
 
 ^ Mr. Langton recollected, or Ur. Johnson repeated, the passage wrong. 
 The lines are in Lord Lansdowne's Drinking Song to Sleep, and run thus ; 
 
 " Short, very short, be then thy reign. 
 For I'm in haste to laugh and drink again."
 
 1 86 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1753. 
 
 were not written by him, but, as I suppose, by Dr. Bathurst. 
 Indeed, Johnson's energy of thought and richness of language 
 are still more decisive" marks than any signature. As a proof 
 of this, my readers, I imagine, will not doubt that number 
 39, on Sleep, is his; for it not only has the general texture 
 and colour of his style, but the authours with whom he was 
 peculiarly conversant are readily introduced in it in cursory 
 allusion. The translation of a passage in Statins,^ quoted in 
 that paper, and marked C.B., has been erroneously ascribed 
 to Dr. Bathurst, whose Christian name was Richard. How 
 much this amiable man actually contributed to "The Ad- 
 venturer," cannot be known. Let me add, that Hawkesworth's 
 imitations of Johnson are sometimes so happy, that it is 
 extremely difficult to distinguish them, with certainty, from 
 the composition of his great archetype. Hawkesworth was 
 his closest imitator, a circumstance of which that writer would 
 once have been proud to be told ; though, when he had become 
 elated by having risen into some degree of consequence, he, in 
 a conversation with me, had the provoking effrontery to say 
 he was not sensible of it. 
 
 Johnson was truly zealous for the success of "The Adven- 
 turer ; " and very soon after his engaging in it, he wrote the 
 following letter : 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND DR. JOSETII WARTON. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 "I OUGHT to have written to you before now, but I ought 
 to do many things which I do not ; nor can I, indeed, claim any 
 merit from this letter ; for being desired by the authours and 
 proprietor of the Adventurer, to look out for another hand, my 
 thoughts necessarily fixed upon you, whose fund of literature will 
 enable you to assist them, with very little interruption of your 
 studies. 
 
 " They desire you to engage to furnish one paper a month, at 
 two guineas a paper, which you may very readily perform. We 
 have considered that a paper should consist of pieces of imagina- 
 tion, pictures of life, and disquisitions of literature. The part 
 
 ^ [This is a slight inaccuracy. The Latin Sapphicks, translated by C. B. 
 in that paper, were written by Cowley, and are in his fourth book on Plants. 
 — Malone.]
 
 Age 44-] '' THE adventurer:' 1S7 
 
 which depends on the imagination is very well supplied, as you 
 will find when you read the paper ; for descriptions of life, there 
 is now a treaty almost made with an authour and an authouress ; ^ 
 and the province of criticism and literature they are very desirous 
 to assign to the commentator on Virgil. 
 
 " I hope this proposal will not be rejected, and that the next 
 l^ost will bring us your compliance. I speak as one of the 
 fraternity, though I have no part in the paper, beyond now and 
 then a motto ; but two of the writers are my particular friends, 
 and I hope the pleasure of seeing a third united to them, will 
 not be denied to, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your most obedient, 
 
 "And most humble servant, 
 
 "March 8, 1753." " SaM. JoHNSON." 
 
 The consequence of this letter was. Dr. Warton's enriching 
 the collection with several admirable essays. 
 
 Johnson's saying, " I have no part in the paper, beyond now 
 and then a motto," may seem inconsistent with his being the 
 authour of the papers marked T. But he had at this time 
 written only one number;- and, besides, even at any after 
 period, he might have used the same expression, considering it 
 
 1 [It is not improbable that the "authour and authouress, with whom a 
 treaty was almost made — f^r descriptions of life," and who are mentioned in 
 a manner that seems to indicate some connection between them, were Henry, 
 and his sister Sally, Fielding, as she was then popularly called. Fielding 
 had previously been a periodical essayist, and certainly was well acquainted 
 with life in all its varieties, more especially within the precincts of London ; 
 and his sister was a lively and ingenious writer. To this notion perhaps it 
 may be objected, that no papers in The Adventurer are known to be their 
 productions. But it should be remembered, that of several of the Essays in 
 that work, the authours are unknown ; and some of these may have been 
 written by the persons here supposed to be alluded to. Nor would the 
 objection be decisive, even if it were ascertained that neither of them con- 
 tributed anything to THE ADVENTURER; for the treaty above-mentioned 
 might afterwards have been broken off. The negotiator, doubtless, was 
 Hawkesworth, and not Johnson. — Fielding was at this time in the highest 
 reputation; having, in 1751, produced his AMELIA, of which the whole 
 impression was sold off on the day of its publication.- — Malone.] 
 
 2 [The authour, I conceive, is here in an errour. He had before stated that 
 Johnson began to write in "The Adventurer" on April loth (when No. 43 
 was published), above a month after the date of his letter to Dr. Warton. 
 The two papers published previously with the signature T., and subscribed 
 Mysargyrus (Nos. 34 and 4i),ATere written, I believe, by Bonnel Thornton, 
 who contributed also all the papers signed A. This information I received 
 several years ago ; but do not precisely remember from whom I derived it. 
 I believe, however, my informer was Dr. Warton. 
 
 With respect to No. 39, on Sleep, which our authour has ascribed ta
 
 i88 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1753. 
 
 as a point of honour not to own them ; for Mrs. Wilh'ams told me 
 that, " as he had given those Essays to Dr. Bathurst who sold 
 them at two guineas each, he never would own them ; nay, 
 he used to say, he did not write them : but the fact was, that 
 he dictated them while Bathurst wrote." I read to him Mrs. 
 Williams's account ; he smiled, and said nothing. 
 
 I am not quite satisfied with the casuistry by which the 
 productions of one person are thus passed upon the world for the 
 productions of another. I allow that not only knowledge, but 
 powers and qualities of mind may be communicated ; but the 
 actual effect of individual exertion never can be transferred, 
 with truth, to any other than its own original cause. One 
 person's child may be made the child of another person by 
 adoption, as among the Romans, or by the ancient Jewish 
 mode of a wife having children borne to her upon her knees, 
 by her handmaid. But these were children in a different sense 
 from that of nature. It was clearly understood that they were 
 not of the blood of their nominal parents. So in literary children, 
 an authour may give the profits and fame of his composition 
 to another man, but cannot make that other the real authour. 
 
 Johnson (see p. 186), even if it were written by him, it would not be incon- 
 sistent with his statement to Dr. Warton ; for it appeared on March 20th, 
 near a fortniglit after the date of Johnson's letter to that gentleman. — But 
 on considering it attentively, though the style bears a strong resemblance to 
 that of Johnson, I believe it was written by his friend, Dr. Bathurst, and 
 perhaps touched in a few places by Johnson. Mr. Boswell has observed, 
 that "this paper not only has the general texture and colour of his style, but 
 the authours with whom he was peculiarly conversant are readily introduced 
 in it, in cursory allusion." Now the authours mentioned in that paper are, 
 Fontenelle, Milton, Ramazzini, Madlle. Scudcri, Swift, Homer, Barretier, 
 Statius, Cowley, and Sir Thomas Browne. With many of these, doubtless, 
 Johnson was particularly conversant ; but I doubt whether he would have 
 characterised the expression quoted from Swift as elegant; and with the 
 works of Ramazzini it is very improbable that he should have been ac- 
 quainted. Ramazzini was a celebrated physician, who died at Padua, in 
 1 7 14, at the age of 81 ; with whose writings Dr. Bathurst may be supposed 
 to have been conversant. So also with respect to Cowley; Johnson, without 
 doubt, had read his Latin poem on plants ; lout Bathurst's profession probably 
 led him to read it with more attention than his friend had given to it; and 
 Cowley's eulogy on the poppy would more readily occur to the Naturalist 
 and the Physician than to a more general reader. I believe, however, that 
 the last paragraph of the paper on Sleep, in which Sir Thomas Browne is 
 quoted, to shew the propriety of prayer before we lie dowij to rest, was added 
 by Johnson.— Malone.]
 
 Age 44-] HIS PAl'ERS IN ''THE ADVENTURER:^ 189 
 
 A Highland gentleman, a younger branch of a family, once 
 consulted me if he could not validly purchase the Chieftainship 
 of his family from the Chief, who was willing to sell it. I told 
 him it was impossible for him to acquire, by purchase, a right 
 to be a different person from what he really was ; for that the 
 right of Chieftainship attached to the blood of primogeniture, 
 and, therefore, was incapable of being transferred. I added, 
 that though Esau sold his birth -right, or the advantages belong- 
 ing to it, he still remained the first-born of his parents ; and that 
 whatever agreement a Chief might make with any of the clan, 
 the Heralds' Office could not admit of the metamorphosis, or 
 with any decency attest that the younger was the elder; but 
 I did not convince the worthy gentleman. 
 
 Johnson's papers in the Adventurer are very similar to those 
 of the Rambler ; but being rather more varied in their subjects,^ 
 and being mixed with essays by other writers, upon topicks 
 more generally attractive than even the most elegant ethical 
 discourses, the sale of the work, at first, was more extensive. 
 Without meaning, however, to depreciate the Adventurer, I 
 must observe, that as the value of the Rambler came, in the 
 progress of time, to be better known, it grew upon the publick 
 estimation, and that its sale has far exceeded that of any other 
 periodical papers since the reign of Queen Anne. 
 
 In one of the books of his diary I find the following entry : 
 
 "Apr. 3, 1753. I began the second vol. of my Dictionary, 
 room being left in the first for Preface, Grammar, and History, 
 none of them yet begun. 
 
 " O God, who hast hitherto supported me, enable me to 
 proceed in this labour, and in the whole task of my present 
 state ; that when I shall render up, at the last day, an account 
 of the talent committed to me, I may receive pardon, for the 
 sake of Jesus CHRIST, Amen." 
 
 He this year favoured Mrs. Lenox- with a Dedication* to the 
 Earl of Orrery, of her " Shakespeare Illustrated." 
 
 ^ [Dr. Johnson lowered and somewhat disguised his style in writing the 
 Adventurers in order that his Papers might pass for those of Dr. Bathurst, 
 to whom he consigned the profits. This was Hawkesworth's opinion. — 
 BURNEY.] 
 
 2 [Dr. Warton, in a letter to his brother, 7th June, 1753, says, " I want to see
 
 I90 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1754. 
 
 In 1754 I can trace nothing published by him, except his 
 numbers of the Adventurer, and " The Life of Edward Cave," * 
 in the Gentleman's Magazine for February. In biography there 
 can be no question that he excelled, beyond all who have 
 attempted that species of composition ; upon which, indeed, he 
 set the highest value. To the minute selection of character- 
 
 Charlotte Lenox's book ; " upon Avhich Mr. Wooll, in his Life of Warton, adds 
 this silly note : "This eminently learned lady translated the Enchiridion of 
 Epictctus, and the Greek theatre of Le Pere Brumoy." — Life of W. p. 217. 
 Poor Mrs. Lenox had no claim to the title of " an eminently learned lady." 
 She did not translate Epictetus ; and her translation from the French of 
 Brumoy was not published till 1759. It was probably her above-mentioned 
 book on Shakspeare that Dr. Warton was desirous of seeing in 1753. 
 
 Mrs. Charlotte Lenox was born in 1720. Her father, Colonel Ramsay, 
 Lieutenant-Governor of New York, sent her over to England at the age of 
 fifteen : but, unfortunately, the relative to whose care she was consigned was 
 either dead or in a state of insanity on Miss Ramsay's arrival. A lady who 
 heard of, and pitied so extraordinary a disappointment, interested Lady 
 Rockingham in the fate of Miss Ramsay ; and the result was, that she was 
 received into her ladyship's family, where she remained till she fancied that a 
 gentleman who visited at the house had become enamoured of her : though 
 she is said to have been very plain in her person. This fancied passion led 
 her into some extravagancies of vanity and jealousy, which terminated her 
 residence with Lady Rockingham. Her moral character, however, was never 
 impeached, and she obtained some countenance and protection from the 
 Uuchess of Newcastle ; but was chiefly dependent for a livelihood on her own 
 literary exertions. In 1747, she published a volume of poems, and became, 
 probably about that time, known to Mr. Strahan, the printer, in consequence 
 of which she became acquainted with and married a Mr. Lenox, who was in 
 Mr. Strahan's employ^ but in what capacity is not known. She next published, 
 in 175 1, the novel of Hm-riot Stuart, in which it is supposed she gave her own 
 history. The Duchess of Newcastle honoured her by standing godmother to 
 her first child, who was called Henrietta Holies, and did her the more sub- 
 stantial benefits of procuring for Mr. Lenox the place of tidewaiter in the 
 Customs, and for herself an apartment in Somerset House. Nothing more 
 is remembered of Mr. Lenox, except that he, at a later period of life, put for- 
 ward some claim to a Scottish peerage. Mrs. Lenox lost her apartments by 
 the pulling down of Somerset House ; and, in the later part of her life, was 
 reduced to great distress. Besides her acquaintance with Dr. Johnson (who 
 was always extremely kind to her), and other literary characters, she had the 
 good fortune to become accjuainted, at Mr. Strahan' s, with the late Right 
 Hon. George Rose, who liberally assisted her in the latter years of her life — 
 particularly in her last illness, and was at the expense of her burial in the 
 beginning of January, 1804. — For most of the foregoing details, I am in- 
 debted to my friend the Right Hon. Sir George Rose, whose venerable 
 mother still (1831) remembers Mrs. Lenox. — Hawkins gives a graphic account 
 of a Johnsonian orgy in honour of Mrs. Lenox. — 
 
 " Mrs. Lenox, a lady now well known to the literary world, has written a 
 novel, entitled The Life of Harriot Stuart, which in the spring of 1751 was 
 ready for publication. One evening at the [Ivy Lane] Club, Johnson pro- 
 posed, to us the celebrating the birth of Mrs. Lenox's first literary child, as he
 
 Age 45-] LIFE OF CAVE— LORD CHESTERFIELD 191 
 
 istical circumstances, for which the ancients were remarkable, he 
 added a philosophical research, and the most perspicuous and 
 energetick language. Cave was certainly a man of estimable 
 qualities, and was eminently diligent and successful in his own 
 business, which, doubtless, entitled him to respect. But he was 
 peculiarly fortunate in being recorded by Johnson ; who, of the 
 narrow life of a printer and publisher, without any digressions 
 or adventitious circumstances, has made an interesting and 
 agreeable narrative. 
 
 The Dictionary, we may believe, afforded Johnson full 
 occupation this year. As it approached to its conclusion, he 
 probably worked with redoubled vigour, as seamen increase their 
 exertion and alacrity when they have a near prospect of 
 their haven. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield, to wiiom Johnson had paid the high 
 compliment of addressing to his Lordship the Plan of his 
 Dictionary, had behaved to him in such a manner as to excite 
 his contempt and indignation. The world has been for many 
 years amused with a story confidently told, and as confidently 
 repeated with additional circumstances, that a sudden disgust 
 was taken by Johnson upon occasion of his having been one 
 day kept long in waiting in his Lordship's antechamber, for 
 
 called her book, by a whole night spent in festivity. Upon his mentioning it 
 to me, I told him I had never sat up a whole night in my life ; but he continu- 
 ing to press me, and saying, that I should find great delight in it, I, as did all 
 the rest of our company, consented. The place appointed was the Devil 
 Tavern, and there, about the hour of eight, Mrs. Lenox and her husband, and 
 a lady of her acquaintance, still [1785] living, as also the club, and friends to 
 the number of near twenty, assembled. The supper was elegant, and Johnson 
 had directed that a magnificent hot apple-pie should make a part of it, and 
 this he would have stuck with bay leaves, because, forsooth, Mrs. Lenox was 
 an authoress, and had written verses ; and further, he had prepared for her a 
 crown of laurel, with which, but not till he had invoked the Muses by some 
 ceremonies of his own invention, he encircled her brows. The night passed, 
 as must be imagined, in pleasant conversation and harmless mirth, inter- 
 mingled, at different periods, with the refreshments of coffee and tea. About 
 five, Johnson's face shone with meridian splendour, though his drink had 
 been only lemonade : but the far greater part of the company had deserted 
 the colours of Bacchus, and were with difficulty rallied to partake of a second 
 refreshment of coflee, which was scarcely ended when the day began to dawn. 
 This phenomenon began to put us in mind of our reckoning ; but the waiters 
 were all so overcome with sleep, that it was two hours before a bill could be 
 had, and it v/as not till near eight that the creaking of the street door gave the 
 signal for our departure." — Croker.]
 
 192 BOSIVELL S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1754. 
 
 which the reason assigned was, that he had company with him ; 
 and that at last, when the door opened, out walked Collcy 
 Gibber ; and that Johnson was so violently provoked when 
 he found for whom he had been so long excluded, that he went 
 away in a passion, and never would return. I remember having 
 mentioned this story to George Lord Lyttelton, who told me 
 he was very intimate with Lord Ghesterfield ; and holding it 
 as a well-known truth, defended Lord Ghesterfield by saying, 
 that " Gibber, who had been introduced familiarly by the back- 
 stairs, had probably not been there above ten minutes." It 
 may seem strange even to entertain a doubt concerning a story 
 so long and so widely current, and thus implicitly adopted, if 
 not sanctioned, by the authority which I have mentioned ; 
 but Johnson himself assured me, that there was not the least 
 foundation for it. He told me, that there never was any 
 particular incident which produced a quarrel between Lord 
 Ghesterfield and him ; but that his Lordship's continued 
 neglect was the reason why he resolved to have no con- 
 nection with him. When the Dictionary was upon the eve 
 of publication. Lord Ghesterfield, who, it is said, had flattered 
 himself with expectations that Johnson would dedicate the 
 work to him, attempted, in a courtly manner, to soothe and 
 insinuate himself with the Sage, conscious, as it should seem, 
 of the cold indifference with which he had treated its learned 
 authour ; and further attempted to conciliate him, by writing 
 two papers in " The World," in recommendation of the work ; 
 and it must be confessed, that they contain some studied 
 compliments, so finely turned, that if there had been no 
 previous offence, it is probable that Johnson would have been 
 highly delighted. Praise, in general, was pleasing to him ; but 
 by praise from a man of rank and elegant accomplishments, 
 he was peculiarly gratified. His Lordship says, 
 
 " I think the publick in general, and the republick of letters 
 in particular, are greatly obliged to Mr. Johnson, for having 
 undertaken and executed so great and desirable a work. Per- 
 fection is not to be expected from man : but if we are to judge 
 by the various works of Johnson already published, we have 
 good reason to believe, that he will bring this as near to
 
 Age 45.] LORD CHESTERFIELD IX " THE WORLD:' 193 
 
 perfection as any man could do. The plan of it, which he 
 pubHshed some years ago, seems to me to be a proof of it. 
 Nothing can be more rationally imagined, or more accurately 
 and elegantly expressed. I therefore recommend the previous 
 perusal of it to all those who intend to buy the Dictionary, and 
 who, I suppose, are all those who can afford it 
 
 " It must be owned, that our language is, at present, in a state 
 of anarchy, and hitherto, perhaps, it may not have been the 
 worse for it. During our free and open trade, many words and 
 expressions have been imported, adopted, and naturalized from 
 other languages, which have greatly enriched our own. Let it 
 still preserve what real strength and beauty it may have 
 borrowed from others ; but let it not, like the Tarpeian maid, 
 be overwhelmed and crushed by unnecessary ornaments. The 
 time for discrimination seems to be now come. Toleration, 
 adoption, and naturalization have run their length. Good order 
 and authority are now necessary. But where shall we find them, 
 and at the same time, the obedience due to them .'' We must 
 have recourse to the old Roman expedient in times of confusion, 
 and chuse a dictator. Upon this principle, I give my vote for 
 Mr. Johnson, to fill that great and arduous post ; and I hereby 
 declare, that I make a total surrender of all my rights and 
 privileges in the English language, as a free-born British subject, 
 to the said Mr. Johnson, during the term of his dictatorship. 
 Nay more, I will not only obey him like an old Roman, as my 
 dictator, but, like a modern Roman, I will implicitly believe in 
 him as my Pope, and hold him to be infallible while in the 
 chair, but no longer. More than this he cmnot well require; 
 for, I presume, that obedience can never be expected, when there 
 is neither terrour to enforce, nor interest to invite it 
 
 " But a Grammer, a Dictionary, and a History of our 
 Language, through its several stages, were still wanting at 
 home, and importunately called for from abroad. Mr. Johnson's 
 labours will now, I dare say, very fully supply that want, and 
 greatly contribute to the farther spreading of our language in 
 other countries. Learners were discouraged, by finding no 
 standard to resort to ; and, consequently, thought it incapable of 
 any. They will now be undeceived and encouraged." 
 
 This courtly device failed of its effect. Johnson, who thought 
 that " all was false and hollow," despised the honeyed words, 
 and was even indignant that Lord Chesterfield should, for a 
 moment, imagine, that he could be the dupe of such an artifice. 
 H,s expression to me concerning Lord Chesterfield, upon this 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1754. 
 
 occasion, was, " Sir, after making great professions, he had, for 
 many years, taken no notice of me ; but when my Dictionary 
 was coming out, he fell a scribbling in * The World ' about it. 
 Upon which, I wrote him a letter expressed in civil terms, but 
 such as might shew him that I did not mind what he said or 
 wrote, and that I had done with him." 
 
 This is that celebrated letter of which so much has been said, 
 and about which curiosity has been so long excited, without 
 being gratified. I for many years solicited Johnson to favour 
 me with a copy of it, that so excellent a composition might not 
 be lost to posterity. He delayed from time to time to give it 
 me •} till at last, in 1781, when we were on a visit at Mr. Dilly's 
 at Southill in Bedfordshire, he was pleased to dictate it to 
 me from memory. He afterwards found among his papers a 
 copy of it, which he had dictated to Mr. Baretti, with its title 
 and corrections, in his own handwriting. This he gave to Mr. 
 Langton ; adding, that if it were to come into print, he wished 
 it to be from that copy. By Mr. Langton's kindness, I am 
 enabled to enrich my work with a perfect transcript of what 
 the world has so eagerly desired to see. 
 
 " TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD. 
 
 " February 7, 1755. 
 " MY LORD, 
 
 " I HAVE been lately informed, by the proprietor of the 
 World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended 
 to the publick, were written by your Lordship. To be so 
 distinguished, is an honour which, being very little accustomed 
 to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in 
 what terms to acknowledge. 
 
 " When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your 
 Lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the 
 enchantment of your address, and could not forbear to wish that 
 
 ^ Dr. Johnson appeared to have had a remarkable delicacy with respect 
 to the circulation of this letter; for Ur. Douglas, Bishop of Salisbury, informs 
 me, that having many years ago pressed him to be allowed to read it to the 
 second Lord Ilardwickc, who was very desirous to hear it, (promising at the 
 same time, that no copy of it should be taken,) Johnson seemed much pleased 
 that it had attracted the attention of a nobleman of such respectable 
 character ; but after pausing some time, declined to comply with the request, 
 saying, with a smile, " No, Sir ; I have hurt the dog too much already ;" or 
 words to that purpose. 
 
 J
 
 Age 45] LETTER TO LORD CHESTERFLELD. 195 
 
 I might boast myself Levainquciir die vainqjieiir de la terre ; — that 
 I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending ; 
 but I found my attendance so little encouraged, that neither 
 pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had 
 once addressed your Lordship in publick, I had exhausted all the 
 art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess, 
 I had done all that I could ; and no man is well pleased to have 
 his all neglected, be it ever so little. 
 
 " Seven years, my Lord, have now past, since I waited in your 
 outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door ; during which 
 time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of 
 which it is useless to complain, and have brought it, at last, to 
 the verge of publication, without one act of assistance,^ one 
 word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment 
 I did not expect, for I never had a Patron before. 
 
 "The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, 
 and found him a native of the rocks. 
 
 " Is not a Patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on 
 a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached 
 ground, encumbers him with help .'' The notice which you have 
 been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been 
 kind ; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot 
 enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it;- till I am 
 known, and do not want" it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity, 
 not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or 
 to be unwilling that the Publick should consider me as owing 
 that to a Patron, which Providence has enabled me to do for 
 myself. 
 
 " Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation 
 to any favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed though I 
 should conclude it, if less be possible, with less ; for I have been 
 
 ^ The following note is subjoined by Mr. Langton. " Dr. Johnson, when 
 he gave me this copy of his letter, desired that I would annex to it his infor- 
 mation to me, that whereas it is said jn the letter that 'no assistance has 
 been received,' he did once receive from Lord Chesterfield the sum of ten 
 pounds ; but as that was so inconsiderable a sum, he thought the mention 
 of it could not properly find a place in a letter of the kind that this was." 
 
 2 In this passage Dr. Johnson evidently alludes to the loss of his wife. 
 We find the same tender recollection recurring to his mind upon innumerable 
 occasions : and, perhaps, no man ever more forcibly felt the truth of the 
 sentiment so elegantly expressed by my friend Mr. Malone, in his Prologue 
 to Mr. Jephson's tragedy of JULIA : 
 
 " Vain — Avealth and fame, and fortune's fostering care, 
 If no fond breast the splendid blessings share ; 
 And, each day's bustling pageantry once past, 
 There, only there, our bliss is found at last." 
 
 O 2
 
 196 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. Vl'A- 
 
 long wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted 
 myself with so much exultation. 
 
 I\Iy Lord, 
 " Your Lordship's most humble, 
 
 " Most obedient servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." ^ 
 
 "While this was the talk of the town, (says Dr. Adams, in a 
 letter to me,) I happened to visit Dr. Warburton, who, finding 
 that I was acquainted with Johnson, desired me earnestly to 
 carry his compliments to him, and to tell him that he honoured 
 him for his manly behaviour in rejecting these condescensions 
 of Lord Chesterfield, and for resenting the treatment he had 
 received from him in a proper spirit. Johnson was visibly 
 pleased with this compliment, for he had alwa}'s a high opinion 
 of Warburton."- Indeed, the force of mind which appeared in 
 this letter, was congenial with that which Warburton himself 
 amply possessed. 
 
 There is a curious minute circumstance which struck mc, in 
 comparing the various editions of Johnson's Imitations of 
 Ju\-cnal. In the tenth Satire one of the couplets upon the 
 vanity of wishes even for literary distinction, stood thus : 
 
 "Yet think what ill; the scholar's life assail, 
 Toil, envy, want, x\\e. gan'ct, and the jail." 
 
 Eut after experiencing the uneasiness which Lord Chesterfield's 
 
 fallacious patronage made him feel, he dismissed \\\(t\\oxA garret 
 
 from the sad group, and in all the subsequent editions the 
 
 line stands, 
 
 "Toil, envy, want, the Pafron, and the jail." 
 
 ^ Upon comparing this copy with that which Dr. Johnson dictated to me 
 from recollection, the variations are found to be so slight, that this must bs 
 added to the many other proofs which he gave of the wonderful extent and 
 accuracy of his jncmory. To gratify the curiou; in composition, I have 
 deposited both copies in the 13riti^h Museum. 
 
 ^ Soon after Edwards's "Canons of Criticism" came out, Johnson was 
 dining at Tonson the Bookseller's, with Hayman the Painter and some more 
 company. Hayman related to Sir Joshua Reynolds, that the conversation 
 haviiig turned upon Edwards's boo.'.', the gentlemen praised it much, and 
 Johnson allowed its merit. But w'len they went farther, and appeared to put 
 ihat authour upon a level with Warburton, "Nay (said Johnson), he has 
 given him some smart hits to be sure ; but there is no proportion between 
 the two men ; they must not be named together. A fly, Sir, may sting a 
 stately horr,e, and make him wince ; but one is but an insect, and the other 
 iz a horse still." 
 
 «
 
 /.._43-] ^^^ REPUDIATED PATRO.W 197 
 
 That Lord Chesterfield must have been mortified by the lofty 
 contempt, and polite, yet keen, satire with which Johnson ex- 
 hibited him to himself in this letter, it is impossible to doubt. 
 He, however, with that glossy duplicity which was his constant 
 study, affected to be quite unconcerned. Dr. Adams mentioned 
 to Mr. Robert Dodsley that he was sorry Johnson had written 
 his letter to Lord Chesterfield. Dodsley, with the true feelings 
 of trade, said, " he was very sorry too ; for that he had a 
 property in the Dictionary, to which his Lordship's patronage 
 might have been of consequence." He then told Dr. Adams, 
 that Lord Chesterfield had shewn him the letter. " I should 
 have im.agined (replied Dr. Adams) that Lord Chesterfield would 
 have concealed it." " Poh ! (said Dodsley) do you think a letter 
 from Johnson could hurt Lord Chesterfield .'' Not at all. Sir. 
 It lay upon his table where anybody might see it. He read it to 
 me; said, 'this man has great powers,' pointed out the severest 
 passages, and observed how well they were expressed." The 
 air of indifference, which imposed upon the worthy Dodsley, 
 was certainly nothing but a specimen of that dissimulation 
 which Lord Chesterfield inculcated as one of the most essential 
 lessons for the conduct of life. His Lordship endeavoured to 
 justify himself to Dodsley from the charges brought against him 
 by Johnson ; but we may judge of the flimsiness of his defence, 
 from his having excused his neglect of Johnson, by saying, that 
 "he heard he Had changed his lodgings, and did not know where 
 he lived ; " as if there would have been the smallest difficulty to 
 inform himself of that circumstance, by enquiring in the literary 
 circle with wdiich his Lordship was well acquainted, and was, 
 indeed, himself, one of its ornaments. 
 
 Dr. Adams expostulated with Johnson, and suggested, that 
 his not being admitted when he called on him, was probably not 
 to be imputed to Lord Chesterfield ; for his Lordship had 
 declared to Dodsley, that " he would have turned off the best 
 servant he ever had, if he had known that he denied him to a 
 man who would have been always more than welcome ; " and in 
 confirmation of this, he insisted on Lord Chesterfield's general 
 affability and easiness of access, especially to literary men. 
 " Sir, (said Johnson) that is not Lord Chesterfield ; he is the
 
 iqS BOSWELUS life of JOHNSON. [1754. 
 
 proudest man this day existing." " No, (said Dr. Adams) there 
 is one person, at least, as proud ; I think, by your own account, 
 you are the prouder man of the two." " But mine (replied 
 Johnson instantly) was defensive pride." This, as Dr. Adams 
 well observed, was one of those happy turns, for which he was 
 so remarkably ready. 
 
 Johnson having now explicitly avowed his opinion of Lord 
 Chesterfield, did not refrain from expressing himself concerning 
 that nobleman with pointed freedom : " This man (said he) I 
 thought had been a Lord among wits, but, I find, he is only a 
 wit among Lords." ^ And when his Letters to his natural son 
 were published, he observed that " they teach the morals of a 
 whore, and the manners of a dancing-master." ^ 
 
 The character of a " respectable Hottentot," in Lord 
 Chesterfield's Letters, has been generally understood to be 
 meant for Johnson, and I have no doubt that it was. But I 
 remember when the Literary Property of those letters was 
 contested in the Court of Session in Scotland, and Mr. Henry 
 Dundas,^ one of the counsel for the proprietors, read this 
 
 ^ [Johnson's character of Chesterfield seems lo be imitated from — inter 
 dodos iiobilissimus. inter tiobiles doctissimics, inter utrosque optimns ; (ex 
 Apulcio. V. Erasm. — Dedication of Adagies to Lord Jvlountjoy;) and from 
 ilidiTTjQ hi (pi\6<jo(potQ, (pi\i'iao<poQ tv tSioTaic. Proclus de Critia. — KEARNEY.] 
 
 2 That collection of letters cannot be vindicated from the serious charge of 
 e -.couraging, in some passages, one of the vices most destructive to the good 
 order and comfort of society, which his Lordship represents as mere fashion- 
 able gallantry ; and, in others, of inculcating the base practice of dissimula- 
 tion, and recommending, with disproportionate anxiety, a perpetual attention 
 to external elegance of manners. But it must, at the same time, be allowed, 
 that they contain many good precepts of conduct, and much genuine infor- 
 mation upon life and manners, very happily expressed ; and that there was 
 considerable merit in paying so much attention to the improvement of one 
 who was dependent upon his Lordship's protection ; it has, probably, been 
 exceeded in no instance by the most exemplary parent ; and though I can by 
 no means approve of confounding the distinction between lawful and illicit 
 offspring, which is, in eftect, insulting the civil establishment of our country, 
 to look no higher ; I cannot help thinking it laudable to be kindly attentive 
 to those, of whose existence we have, in any way, been the cause. Mr. 
 Stanhope's character has been unjustly represented as diametrically opposite 
 to what Lord Chesterfield wished him to be. He has been called dull, gross, 
 and aukward : but I knew him at Dresden, when he was Envoy to that 
 court ; and though he could not boast of the graces, he was, in truth, a 
 sensible, civil, well-behaved man. 
 
 3 Now[i792] one of his Majesty's principal Secretaries of State. [.Afterwards 
 Viscount Melville. He died in 181 1.— Croker.1
 
 AGE45J .uALLET'S EDITJOM OF BOLINGBROKE. 199 
 
 character as an exhibition of Johnson, Sir David Dalrymple, 
 Lord Hailes, one of the Judges, maintained, with some warmth, 
 that it was not intended, as a portrait of Johnson, but of a late 
 noble Lord, distinguished for abstruse science. I have heard 
 Johnson himself talk of the character, and say that it was meant 
 for George Lord Lyttelton, in which I could by no means agree; 
 for his Lordship had nothing of that violence which is a 
 consp'cuous feature in the composition. Finding that my 
 illustrious friend could bear to have it supposed that it might be 
 meant for him, I said, laughingly, that there was one trait which 
 unquestionably did not belong to him ; " he throws his meat 
 anywhere but down his throat." " Sir, (said he) Lord Chesterfield 
 never saw me eat in his life." 
 
 On the 6th of March came out Lord Bolingbroke's works, 
 published by Mr. David Mallet. The wild and pernicious 
 ravings, under the name of " Philosophy/' which uxre thus 
 ushered into the world, gave great offence to all well-principled 
 men. Johnson, hearing of their tendency, which nobody dis- 
 puted, was roused with a just indignation, and pronounced this 
 memorable sentence upon the noble authour and his editor. 
 " Sir, he was a scoundrel, and a coward : a scoundrel for charging 
 a blunderbuss against religion and morality ; a coward, because 
 he had not resolution to fire it off himself, but left half-a-crown 
 to a beggarly Scotchman, to draw the trigger after his death ! " 
 Garrick, who, I can attest from my own knowledge, had his 
 mind seasoned with pious reverence, and sincerely disapproved 
 of the infidel writings of several, whom in the course of his 
 almost universal gay intercourse with men of eminence he 
 treated with external civility, distinguished himself upon this 
 occasion. Mr. Pelham having died on the very day on which 
 Lord Bolingbroke's works came out, he wrote an elegant Ode on 
 his death, beginning. 
 
 " Let others hail the rising sun, 
 I bow to that whose course is run ; ' 
 
 in which is the following stanza : 
 
 " The same sad morn, to Church and State 
 (So for our sins 'twas fix'd by fate,) 
 A double stroke was given ;
 
 200 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [175.. 
 
 Black as the whirlwinds of the North, 
 St. John's fell genius issued forth, 
 And Pelham fled to heaven." 
 
 Johnson tin's year found an interval of leisure to make an 
 excursion to Oxford, for the purpose of consulting the libraries 
 there. Of this, and of many interesting- circumstances con- 
 cerning him, during a part of his life when he conversed but 
 little with the world, I am enabled to give a particular account, 
 by the liberal communications of the Reverend Mr. Thomas 
 Warton, who obligingly furnished me with several of our 
 common friend's letters, which he illustrated with notes. These 
 I shall insert in their proper places. 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " It is but an ill return for the book with which you were 
 pleased to favour me,^ to have delayed my thanks for it till 
 now. I am too apt to be negligent ; but I can never de- 
 liberately shew my disrespect to a man of your character ; 
 and I now pay you a very honest acknowledgment, for the 
 advancement of the literature of our native country. You 
 have shewn to all, who shall hereafter attempt the stud\' 
 of our ancient authours, the way to success ; by directing 
 them to the perusal of the books which those authours had 
 read. Of this method, Hughes,"^ and men much greater than 
 Hughes, seem never to have thought. The reason why the 
 authours, which are }'et read, of the sixteenth century, arc 
 so little understood, is, that they are read alone ; and no 
 help is borrowed from those who lived with them, or before 
 them. Some part of this ignorance I hope to remove by my 
 book,^ which now draws towards its end ; but which I cannot 
 finish to my mind, without visiting the libraries of Oxford, which 
 I therefore hope to see in a fortnight.'* I know not how long I 
 
 1 [Observations on Spenser's Fairy Queen, the first edition of which was 
 n >\\ published.] 
 
 Hughes published an edition of Spenser. — Warton.] 
 'His Dictionary. — Warton.] 
 
 [He came to Oxford within a fortnight, and stayed about five weeks. He 
 lodged at a house called Kettel-hall, near Trinity College. — Warton.] [Hut 
 during his visit at Oxford he collected nothing in the libraries for his Uictionar\ . 
 — Malone.]
 
 Age 45] VISIT TO OXFORD— THOMAS WARTON. 201 
 
 shall stay, or where I shall lodge ; but shall be sure to look for 
 you at my arrival, and wc shall easily settle the rest. I am, 
 
 dear Sir, 
 
 "Your most obedient, &c., 
 
 "[London], July 16, IZSV " SaM. JOHNSON. 
 
 Of his conversation while at Oxford at this time, Mr, Warton 
 preserved and communicated to me the following- memorial, 
 which, though not written with all the care and attention which 
 that learned and elegant writer bestowed on those compositions 
 which he intended for the public eye, is so happily expressed in 
 an easy style, that I should injure it by any alteration : 
 
 "When Johnson came to Oxford in 1754, the long vacation 
 was beginning, and most people were leaving the place. This 
 was the first time of his being there after quitting the University. 
 The next morning after his arrival, he wished to see his old 
 College, Pevibroke. I went with him. He was highly pleased 
 to find all the College servants which he had left there still 
 remaining, particularly a very old butler ; and expressed great 
 satisfaction at being recognised by them, and conversed with 
 them familiarly. He waited on the master, Dr. Radcliffe, who 
 received him very coldly. Johnson at least expected,. that the 
 master would order a copy of his Dictionar\-, now near 
 publication ; but the master did not choose to talk on the 
 subject, never asked Johnson to dine, nor even to visit him, 
 while he stayed at Oxford. After we had left the lodgings, 
 Johnson said to me, ' There lives a man, who lives by the re- 
 venues of literature, and will not move a finger to support it. 
 If I come to live at Oxford, I shall take up my abode at Trinity.' 
 We then called on the Reverend Mr. Meeke, one of the fellows, 
 and of Johnson's standing. Here was a most cordial greeting on 
 both sides. On leaving him, Johnson said, ' I used to think 
 Meeke had excellent parts, when we were boys together at 
 the colleP"e : but alas ! 
 
 '&'■ 
 
 " ■ Lost in a convent's solitary gloom I '-- 
 
 I remember, at the classical lecture in the Hall, I could not 
 bear Meeke's superiority, and I tried to sit as far from him 
 as I could, that I might not hear him construe.' 
 
 "As we were leaving the College, he said, ' Here I translated 
 Pope's Messiah. Which do you think is the best line in it .'' — 
 Aly ov.-n favourite is, 
 
 " ' Vailis a)07iiaticas fiindit Saronica nubcs.'
 
 202 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1754- 
 
 I told him, I thought it a very sonorous hexameter. I did not 
 tell him, it was not in the Virgilian style. He much regretted 
 that \i\'& first tutor was dead ; for whom he seemed to retain the 
 greatest regard. lie said, ' I once had been a whole morning 
 sliding in Christ-Church meadows, and missed his lecture in 
 logick. After dinner he sent for me to his room. I expected a 
 sharp rebuke for my idleness, and went with a beating heart. 
 When we were seated, he told me he had sent for me to drink 
 a glass of wine with him, and to tell me, he was not angry with 
 me for missing his lecture. This was, in fact, a most severe 
 reprimand. Some more of the boys were then sent for, and 
 we spent a very pleasant afternoon.' Besides Mr. Meeke, there 
 was only one other Fellow of Pembroke now resident : from 
 both of whom Johnson received the greatest civilities during 
 this visit, and they pressed him very much to have a room 
 in the College. 
 
 "In the course of this visit (1754), Johnson and I walked 
 three or four times to Ellsfield, a village beautifully situated 
 about three miles from Oxford, to see Mr. Wise, Radclivian 
 librarian, with whom Johnson was much pleased. At this place, 
 Mr. Wise had fitted up a house and gardens, in a singular 
 manner, but with great taste. Here was an excellent library, 
 particularly a valuable collection of books in Northern literature, 
 with which Johnson was often ver}^ busy. One day Mr. Wise 
 read to us a dissertation which he was preparing for the press, 
 intitled, 'A History and Chronology of the Fabulous Ages.' 
 Some old divinities of Thrace, related to the Titans, and called 
 the Cabiri, made a very important part cf the theory of this 
 piece ; and in conversation afterwards, Mr. Wise talked much of 
 his Cabiri. As we returned to Oxford in the evening, I out- 
 walked Johnson, and he cried out Siifflaviina, a Latin word, 
 which came from his mouth with peculiar grace, and was as much 
 as to say, Put 07i your drag chain. Before we got home, I again 
 walked too fast for him ; and now he cried out, ' Why, you walk 
 as if you were pursued b}' all the Cabiri in a body.' In an 
 evening we frequently took long walks from Oxford into the 
 countr\-, returning to supper. Once, in our way home, we 
 viewed the ruins of the abbies of Oscney and Rewley, near 
 Oxford. After at least half an hour's silence, Johnson said, ' I 
 viewed them with indignation ! ' We had then a long con- 
 versation on Gothic buildings : and in talking of the form of 
 old halls, he said, ' In these halls, the fire-place was antiently 
 always in the middle of the room, till the Whigs removed it on 
 one side.' — About this time there had been an execution of two 
 or three crimnals at Oxford on a Monday. Soon afterwards,
 
 Age 45-] JOHNSON A T OXFORD. 203 
 
 one day at dinner, I was saying that Mr. Swinton, the chaplain 
 of the gaol, and also a frequent preacher before the University, 
 a learned man, but often thoughtless and absent, preached the 
 condemnation-sermon on repentance, before the convicts, on the 
 preceding day, Sunday ; and that in the close he told his 
 audience, that he should give them the remainder of what he 
 had to say on the subject, the next Lord's Day. Upon which, 
 one of our company, a Doctor of Divinity, and a plain matter- 
 of-fact man, by way of offering an apology for Mr. Swinton, 
 gravely remarked, that he had probably preached the same 
 sermon before the University : ' Yes, Sir, (says Johnson) but 
 the University were not to be hanged the next morning.' 
 
 " I forgot to observe before, that when he left Mr. Meeke (as 
 I have told above), he added, ' About the same time of life, 
 Meeke was left behind at Oxford to feed on a Fellowship, and 
 I went to London to get my living : now, Sir, see the difference 
 of our literary characters ! " 
 
 The following letter was written by Dr. Johnson to Mr. 
 Chambers, of Lincoln College, afterwards Sir Robert Chambers, 
 one of the judges in India : ^ 
 
 " TO MR. CHAMBERS, OF LINCOLN COLLEGE.^ 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " The commission which I delayed to trouble you with 
 at your departure, I am now obliged to send you ; and beg that 
 you will be so kind as to carry it to Mr. Warton, of Trinity, to 
 whom I should have written immediately, but that I know not 
 if he be yet come back to Oxford. 
 
 " In the Catalogue of MSS. of Gr. Brit, see vol. i. page 
 18, MSS. Bodl. Martyrium xv. martyriini sub Juliana, auctorc 
 ThcopJiylacto. 
 
 " It is desired that Mr. Warton will enquire, and send word, 
 what will be the cost of transcribing this manuscript, 
 
 ^ Communicated by the Reverend Mr. Thomas Warton, who had tlic 
 original. 
 
 "^ [Sir Robert Chambers was born in 1737, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, and 
 educated at the same school with Lord Stowell and his brother the Earl of 
 Eldon, and afterwards (like them) a member of University College. It was 
 by visiting Chambers, when a fellow of University, that Johnson became 
 acquainted with Lord Stowell; and when Chambers went to India, Lord 
 Stowell, as he expressed it to " seemed to succeed to his place in Johnson's 
 friendship." — Croker.]
 
 204 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOIINSOX. [1754. 
 
 "Vol. ii. p. 32. Num. 1022. 58. COLL. Nov. — Commcniaria iii 
 Acta Apostol. — Coinuient. in Septcj?i Epis tolas Catholicas. 
 
 " He is desired to tell what is the age of each of these 
 manuscripts ; and what it will cost to have a transcript of 
 the two first pages of each. 
 
 "If Mr. Warton be not in Oxford, you may try if you can 
 get it done by anybody else ; or stay till he comes according 
 to your own convenience. It is for an Italian /iterate?. 
 
 " The answer is to be directed to his Excellency Mr. Zon, 
 Venetian Resident, Soho-Square. 
 
 " I hope, dear Sir, that you do not regret the change of London 
 for Oxford. Mr. Baretti is well, and Miss Williams ; ^ and we 
 shall all be glad to hear from you, whenever you shall be so 
 kind as to write to, Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Joiin.son. 
 
 " Nov. 21, 175-1..' 
 
 The degree of Master of Arts, which, it has been observed, 
 could not be obtained for him at an early period of his life, was 
 now considered as an honour of considerable importance, in order 
 to grace the title-page of his Dictionary ; and his character in 
 the literary world being by this time deservedly high, his frien<ls 
 thought that, if proper exertions were made, the University of 
 Oxford would pay him the compliment. 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON. 
 
 "DEAR SH^l, 
 
 " I AM extremely obliged to }'ou and to Mr. Wise, xor the 
 
 1 [I presume she was a relation of Mr. Zacbariah Williams, who died in 
 his eighty-third year, July 12, 1755. When Dr. Johnson was with me at 
 0.xford, in 1755, he gave to the Bodleian Library a thin quarto of twenty-one 
 pages, a work in Italian, with an English translation on the opposite page. 
 The English title-page is this : "An Account of an Attempt to ascertain the 
 Longitude at Sea, by an exact Variation of the Magnetical Needle, &c. By 
 Zachariah Williams. London, printed for Dodsley, 1755." The English 
 translation, from the strongest internal marks, is unc[ueslionably the work of 
 Johnson. In a blank leaf, Johnson has written the age, and time of death, 
 of the authour, Z. Williams, as I have said above. On another blank leaf is 
 pasted a paragraph from a newspaper, of the death and character of Williams, 
 which is plainly written by Johnson. He was very anxious about placing 
 this book in the Bodleian : and, for fear of any omission or mistake, he 
 entered, in the great Catalogue, the title-page of it with his own hand. — 
 W.A.RTON.] 
 
 [In this statement there is a slight mistake. The English account, which 
 was written by Johnson, was the 07-iginal; the Italian was a translation, done 
 by Baretti.— Malone.]
 
 Ac . : 45.] DICTION AR Y PRINTED, EXCEPT TITLE-PA GE. 205 
 
 uncommon care which you have taken of my interest ;^ if you 
 can accomplish your kind design, I shall certainly take me a 
 little habitation among you. 
 
 " The books which I promised to Mr. Wise,- I have not been 
 able to procure ; but I shall send him a Finnick Dictionary, the 
 only copy, perhaps, in England, which was presented to me by 
 a learned Swede ; but I keep it back, that it may make a set of 
 my own books of the new edition, with which I shall accompany 
 it, more welcome. You will assure him of my gratitude. 
 
 " Poor dear Collins !^ — Would a letter give him any pleasure ? 
 I have a mind to write. 
 
 " I am glad of your hindrance in your Spenserian design,^ yet 
 I would not have it delayed. Three hours a day stolen from 
 
 ^ [In procuring him the degree of ^Master of Arts by diploma at Oxford. — 
 Warton.] 
 
 2 [Lately Fellow of Trinity College, and at this time Radclivian librarian 
 at ( xford. He was a man of very considerable learning, and eminently 
 skilled in Roman and Anglo-Saxon antiquities. He died in 1767. — Warton.] 
 
 3 [Collins (the poet) was at this time at Oxford, on a visit to Mr. Warton ; 
 but 1 ibouring under the most deplorable languor of body and dejection of 
 mind. — Warton.] 
 
 [In a letter to Dr. Joseph Warton, written some months before. (March 8, 
 1754,) Dr. Johnson thus speaks of Collins. 
 
 " But how little can we venture to exult in any intellectual powers or literary 
 attainments, when we consider the condition of poor Collins. I knew him 
 a few years ago full of hopes, and full of projects, versed in many languages, 
 high in fancy, and strong in retention. This busy and forcible mind is now 
 under the government of those, who lately could not have been able to com- 
 prehend the least and most narrow of his designs. What do you hear of 
 him? are there hopes of his recovery? or is he to pass the remainder of his 
 life in misery and degradation ? perhaps, with a complete consciousness of 
 his calamity." 
 
 In a subsequent letter to the same gentleman (Dec. 24, 1754), he thus 
 feelingly alludes to their unfortunate friend : 
 
 " Poor dear Collins ! Let me know whether you think it would give him 
 pleasure if I should write to him. I have often been near his state, and 
 therefore have it in great commiseration." 
 
 Again, — April 9, 1756: 
 
 "What becomes of poor dear Collins? I wrote him a letter which he 
 never answered. I suppose writing is very troublesome to him. That man 
 is no common loss. The moralists all talk of the uncertainty of fortune, 
 and the transitoriness of beauty : but it is yet more dreadful to consider that 
 the powers of the mind are equally liable to change, that understanding may 
 make its appearance and depart, that it may blaze and expire." 
 
 See Biographical Memoirs of the late Reverend Dr. Joseph Warton, by 
 the Rev. John Wool, A.M. 4to. 1806. 
 
 Mr. Collins, who was the son of a hatter at Chichester, was born 
 December 25, 1720, and was released from the dismal state here so 
 pathetically described, in 1756. — Malone.] 
 
 * [Of publishing a volume of observations on the best of Spenser's works. 
 It was hindered by my taking pupils in this college.— Warton.]-
 
 2o6 BOSIVELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1-^55. 
 
 sleep and amusement will produce it. Let a Servitour ^ tran- 
 scribe the quotations, and interleave them with references, to 
 save time. This will shorten the work, and lessen the fatigue. 
 
 " Can I do any thing to promote the diploma } I would not 
 be wanting to co-operate with your kindness ; of which, 
 whatever be the effect, I shall be, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged, &c., 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "[London,] Nov. 28, 1754." 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I am extremely sensible of the favour done me, both by 
 Mr. Wise and yourself. The book -cannot, I think, be printed 
 in less than six weeks, nor probably so soon ; and I will keep 
 back the title-page, for such an insertion as you seem to promise 
 me. Be pleased to let me know what money I shall send you 
 for bearing the expence of the affair ; and I will take care that 
 you may have it ready at your hand. 
 
 " I had lately the favour of a letter from your brother, with 
 some account of poor Collins, for whom I am much concerned. 
 I have a notion, that by very great temperance, or more 
 properly abstinence, he may yet recover. 
 
 "There is an old English and Latin book of poems by 
 Barclay, called ' The Ship of Fools : ' at the end of which are a 
 number of Eglogiies, — so he writes it, from Egloga, — which are 
 probably the first in our language. If you cannot find the 
 book, I will get Mr. Dodsley to send it you. 
 
 " I shall be extremely glad to hear from you again, to know if 
 the affair proceeds." I have ment oned it to none of my friends, 
 for fear of being laughed at for my disappointment. 
 
 "You know poor Mr. Dodsley has lost his wife; I believe he 
 is much affected. I hope he will not suffer so much as I yet 
 suffer for the loss of mine, 
 
 Oi/iot rt ti' oi/iot ; Qvi\Tii yi'if) TrtTruvQu/jitu.* 
 
 I have ever since seemed to myself broken off from mankind ; 
 a kind of solitary wanderer in the wild of life, without any 
 
 1 [Young students of the lowest rank at Oxford are so called.— Warton.] 
 
 - [His Dictionary.— Warton.] 
 
 3 'Of the degree at O.xford.- Warton.] 
 
 ■* This verse is taken from the long lost IjELLF:rophon, a tragedy by 
 Euripides. It is preserved by Suidas in his Lexicon, Voc. Oi/ioi II. p. 666; 
 where the reading is OvtjTci rot TmrovQajxtv. — Rev. C. Burnkv.]
 
 Age 46.] DEGREE OB TAhXED—DJCTIONAR \ ' P UB LI SHED. 207 
 
 direction, or fixed point of view ; a gloomy gazer on the world 
 to which I have little relation. Yet I would endeavour, by the 
 help of you and your brother, to supply the want of closer 
 union, by friendship : and hope to have long the pleasure of 
 being, dear Sir, 
 
 " Most affectionately yours, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson, 
 
 "[London,] Dec. 21, I754-" 
 
 In 1755 we behold him to great advantage; his degree of 
 Master of Arts conferred upon him, his Dictionary published, his 
 correspondence animated, his benevolence exercised. 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I wrote to you some weeks ago, but believe did not direct 
 accurately, and therefore know not whether you had my letter. 
 I would, likewise, write to your brother, but know not where to 
 find him. I now begin to see land, after having wandered, 
 according to Mr. Warburton's phrase, in this vast sea of words. 
 What reception I shall meet with on the shore, I know not ; 
 whether the sound of bells, and acclamations of the people, 
 which Ariosto talks of in his last Canto, or a general murmur 
 of dislike, I know not : whether I shall find upon the coast a 
 Calypso that will court, or a Polypheme that will resist. But 
 if Polypheme comes have at his eye. I hope, however, the 
 criticks will let me be at peace ; for though I do not much fear 
 their skill and strength, I am a little afraid of myself, and would 
 not willingly feel so much ill-will in my bosom as literary 
 quarrels are apt to excite. 
 
 "Mr. Earetti is about a work, for which he is in great want of 
 Crescimbeni, which you may have again when you please. 
 
 " There is nothing considerable done or doing among us here. 
 We are not, perhaps, as innocent as villagers, but most of us 
 seem to be as idle. I hope however, you are busy ; and should 
 be glad to know what \-ou arc doing. 
 
 " I am, dearest Sir, 
 
 " Your humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "[London,] Feb. 4, 1755." 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I RECEIVED }our letter this day, with great sense of the
 
 2oS BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 favour that lias been done me;^ for which I return my most 
 sincere thanks ; and entreat you to pay to Mr. Wise such, 
 returns as I ought to make for so much kindness so httle 
 deserved. 
 
 "I sent Mr. Wise the Lexicon, and afterwards wrote to him ; 
 but know not whether he had either the book or letter. Be 
 so good as to contrive to inquire. 
 
 " But why does my dear Mr. Warton tell me nothing of 
 himself.-' Where hangs the new volume.'- Can I help.'' Let 
 not the past labour be lost for want of a little more : but snatch 
 what time }'ou can from the Hall, and the pupils, and the coffee- 
 house, and the parks, and complete your design. 
 
 " I am, dear Sir, &c., 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "[London,] Feb. 4, 1755-" 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I HAD a letter last week from Mr. Wise, but have yet 
 heard nothing from you, nor know in what state my affair^ 
 stands; of which I beg you to inform me, if you can to-morrow, 
 by the return of the post. 
 
 " Mr. Wise sends me word, that he has not had the Finnick 
 Lexicon }-et which I sent some time ago; and if he has not, you 
 must enquire after it. However, do not let your letter stay 
 for that. 
 
 " Your brother, who is a better correspondent than you, and 
 not much better, sends me word that your pupils keep you in 
 College ; but do they keep you from writing too } Let them, 
 at least, give you time to write to, dear Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate, &c., 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "[London,] Feb. 13, 1755."' 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " Dr. King^ was with me a few minutes before your letter ; 
 this, however, is the first instance in which your kind intentions 
 
 ' [His degree had now past, according to the usual form, the suffrages of 
 the licads of Colleges : but was not yet finally granted by the University. It 
 •was carried without a single dissentient voice. — Warton.] 
 
 On Spenser.— Warton.] 
 
 Of the degree. — Warton.] 
 
 Principal of Saint Mary Hall at Oxford. He brought with him the 
 diploma from Oxford.— Warton.]
 
 Age 46.] SAMUEL JOHNSON, M.A. 209 
 
 to me have ever been frustrated.^ I have now the full effect 
 of your care and benevolence ; and am far from thinking it a 
 slight honour, or a small advantage ; since it will put the 
 enjoyment of your conversation more frequently in the power 
 of, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged and affectionate, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " P.S. I have enclosed a letter to the Vice-Chancellor," which 
 you will read ; and, if you like it, seal and give him. 
 " [London,] Feb. 1755.'' 
 
 As the Publick will doubtless be pleased to see the whole 
 progress of this well-earned academical honour, I shall insert 
 the Chancellor of Oxford's letter to the University,^ the 
 diploma, and Johnson's letter of thanks to the Vice-Chancellor. 
 
 " TO THE REVEREND DR. HUDDESFORD, 
 
 Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford ; to be communicated to the 
 Heads of Houses, and proposed in Convocation. 
 
 " MR. VICE-CHANCELLOR AND GENTLEMEN, 
 
 Mr. Samuel Johnson, who was formerly of Pembroke 
 College, having very eminently distinguished himself by the 
 publication of a scries of Essays, excellently calculated to 
 form the manners of the people, and in which the cause of 
 religion and morality is every where maintained by the strongest 
 powers of argument and language ; and who shortly intends to 
 publish a Dictionary of the English Tongue, formed on a new 
 plan, and executed with the greatest labour and judgement: 
 I persuade myself that I shall act agreeable to the sentiments 
 of the whole University, in desiring that it may be pro- 
 posed in convocation to confer on him the degree of Master of 
 Arts by diploma, to which I readily give my consent ; 
 and am, 
 
 " Mr. Vice-Chancellor and Gentlemen, 
 
 "Your affectionate friend and servant, 
 
 "Arran. • 
 " Grosvenor-street, Feb. 4, 1755." 
 
 1 [I suppose Johnson means that my kind intention oi being \X\q first to 
 give him the good news of the degree being granted was fnis/j'ated, because 
 Dr. King brought it before my intelligence arrived. — Warton.] 
 
 2 [Dr. Huddesford, President of Trinity College. — Warton.] 
 ^ Extracted from the Convocation-Register, Oxford. 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 :io 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [i755- 
 
 Term. S<^«!. 
 
 iiiiarii. "Diploma Magistri Johnson. 
 
 1755- 
 
 " CANCELLARIUS, Magistri ct Scholares Universitatis 
 Oxonicnsis omnibus ad giios hoc prescns scrip tiini pcrvcnerit, 
 sahitem in Domino sempitcrnani. 
 
 " Cum eiim in finem gradus academici a majoribus nostris 
 instituti fucrint, ut viri ingenio et doctrmd prcBSta7ites titulis 
 g2coque pnetor ccetcros insignircntur ; ciimqice vir doctissimus 
 Samuel Johnson e CoUegio Pcmbrochiensi, scriptis suis popu- 
 larintn mores informantibus dudum literato orbi innotiierit ; quin 
 et lingucB patrics tum ornandce turn stabiliend(E {Lexicon scilicit 
 Anglicanum snmmo studio, summo a se judicio congestum 
 propediem cditurus) etiam nunc utilissimam impcndat operant ; 
 Nos igitur Canccllaritis, Magistri, et Scholares antedicti, 
 ne viriim de Uteris humanioribus optime ineritum diutius 
 inhonoratum prcutercamus, in soknni Convocatione Doctorum, 
 Magistrorum, Regcntium, et non Regentium, deciino die Mensis 
 Febriiarii Anno Domini Millcsimo Septingentesimo Quinqua- 
 gesimo quinto Jiabitd, prcefatum virum Samuelem Johnson 
 {conspirantibus omnium suffragiis) Magistrum in Artibus, 
 renunciavimus ct constituimus ; eumque, virtute prcescntis 
 dip/omatis, singulis juribus privilegiis et honoribus ad istum 
 gradient quaqua pertincntibus frui et gatidcre jussimus. 
 
 ''In cujus rci testimonium sigillum Universitatis Oxoniensis 
 prcesentibus apponifccimus. 
 
 " Datum in Domo nostrce Convocationis die 20° 
 Mensis Feb. Anno Dom. prcedicto. 
 
 Diploma supra scriptuut per Rcgistrarium Icctum erat, et 
 ex decreto vcncrabilis Domiis communi Universitatis sigillo 
 
 munitum 
 
 " 1 
 
 "Londini, 4to Cal. Mart. 1755. 
 "VIRO REVERENDO— HUDDESFORD, S.T.P. 
 "Universitatis O.xoniensis Vice-Cancellario Dignissimo, S.P.D. 
 
 Sam. Johnson.2 
 
 " INGRA TUS plani et tibi ct mihi vidcar, nisi quanta me 
 gaudio affeccrint, quos nupcr mihi honorcs {te, credo, auctore,) 
 "decrevit Senatus Acadcmicus, literarum, quo tamen nihil levins 
 officio, significcm; tngrattis etiam, nisi comitatcnt, qua vir 
 
 1 The original is in my possession. 
 
 2 [Tine superscription of this letter was not quite correct in the early 
 editions of this work. It is here given from Dr. Johnson's original letter, now 
 before me.— M alone.]
 
 Age 46.] THE DIPLOMA FROM OXFORD. 211 
 
 eximhis'^ mihi vestri testimoneiini amoris in iiianns tradidit, 
 agnoscain et laudem. Si quid est, iinde rei tam grates accedat 
 gratia, hoc ipso inagis mihi placet, quod eo tempore in ordines 
 Academicos demib cooptatiis sim, quo tuani imntinnere auctoritatem, 
 famamqne Oxonii Iccdere, omnibus modis conantiir homines vafri, 
 nee tamen aciiti : qiiibns ego, pront viro nmbratico licuit, semper 
 restiti, semper restiturus. Qui enim, inter has reriim proccllas, 
 vel tibi vel Academics defiierit, ilium virtuti ei Uteris, sibique 
 et posteris, defuturum existimo. Vale I' 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 " After I received my diploma, I wrote you a letter of 
 thanks, with a letter to the Vice-Chancellor, and sent another 
 to Mr. Wise ; but have heard from nobody since, and begin to 
 think myself forgotten. It is true, I sent you a double letter, 
 and you may fear an expensive correspondent: but I would have 
 taken it kindly if you had returned it treble : and what is a 
 double letter to a petty king, that \\a.v\ng fellowship and fines, 
 can sleep without a modus in his headf^ 
 
 " Dear Mr. Warton, let me hear from you, and tell me 
 something, I care not what, so I hear it but from you. 
 Something I will tell you : — I hope to see my Dictionary bound 
 and lettered, next week ; — vastd mole sjiperbus. And I have a 
 great mind to come to Oxford at Easter ; but you will not 
 invite me. Shall I come uninvited, or stay here where nobody 
 perhaps would miss me if I went .'' A hard choice ! But such 
 is the world to, dear Sir, Yours, &c., 
 
 " Sam. Johnson.^ 
 
 "[London,] March 20, 1755." 
 
 ^ We may conceive what a high gratification it must have been to Johnson 
 to receive his diploma from the hands of the great Dr. King, whose 
 principles were so congenial with his own. 
 
 2 [The words in Italicks are allusions to passages in Mr. Warton's poem, 
 called "The Progress of Discontent," now lately published. — Warton.] 
 
 2 [The following extract of a letter from Thomas Warton to his brother 
 will show his first sentiments on this great work : — " 19th April, 1755. The 
 Dictionary is arrived ; the preface is noble. There is a grammar prefi-xed, 
 and the history of the language is pretty full ; but you may plainly perceive 
 strokes of laxity and indolence. They are two most unwieldy volumes. I 
 have written him an invitation. I fear his preface will disgust, by the ex- 
 pressions of his consciousness of superiority, and of his contempt of patron- 
 age. The Rawlinson benefaction won't do for Johnson, which is this — a 
 professorship of 80/. per annum, which is not to take place these forty years ; 
 a fellowship to Hertford College, which is too ample for them to receive 
 agreeably to Newton's statutes ; and a fellowship to St. John's College. 
 Neither of the last are to take place these forty years." By the Rawlinson 
 
 r 2
 
 212 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 " Though not to write, when a man can write so well, is an 
 offence sufficiently heinous, yet I shall pass it by. I am very 
 glad that the Vice-Chancellor was pleased with my note. I 
 shall impatiently expect you at London, that we may consider 
 what to do next. I intend in the winter to open a BibliotJieque, 
 and remember, that you are to subscribe a sheet a year : let us 
 try, likewise, if we cannot persuade your brother to subscribe 
 another. My book is now coming in luminis oras. What will 
 be its fate I know not, nor think much, because thinking is to no 
 ])urpose. I must stand the censure of the great vitigar and the 
 small ; of those that understand it, and that understand it not. 
 But in all this, I suffer not alone ; every writer has the same 
 difficulties, and, perhaps, every writer talks of them more than 
 he thinks. 
 
 " You will be pleased to make my compliments to all my 
 friends ; and be so kind, at every idle hour, as to remember, 
 dear Sir, 
 
 " Yours, &c. 
 
 "Sam. Johnson 
 
 "[London,] March 25, 1755." 
 
 Dr. Adams told me, that this scheme of a Bibliothique was a 
 serious one : for upon his visiting him one day, he found his 
 parlour floor covered with parcels of foreign and English literary 
 journals, and he told Dr. Adams he meant to undertake a 
 Review. " How, Sir (said Dr. Adams) can you think of doing 
 it alone ? All branches of knowledge must be considered in it. 
 Do you know IMathematicks ? Do you know Natural History } " 
 Johnson answered, "Why, Sir, I must do as well as I can. My 
 chief purpose is to give my countrymen a view of what is doing 
 in literature upon the continent ; and I shall have, in a good 
 measure, the choice of my subject, for I shall select such books 
 as I best understand." Dr. Adams suggested, that as Dr. Maty^ 
 
 benefaction, Dr. H.iU understood the Anglo-Saxon professorship which was 
 founded in 1750, but did not take effect before 1795. — Croker.] 
 
 1 [Matthew Maty, M.D. and F.R.S., was born in Holland in 1718, and 
 educated at Leydcn, but he came in 1740 to settle in England. He became 
 secretary to the Royal Society in 1765, and in 1772, principal librarian of the 
 British Museum. Maty being the friend and admirer of Lord Chesterfield,
 
 Age 46.] JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY. 213 
 
 had just then finished his BibliotJieque Britanniquc, which was 
 a well-executed work, giving foreigners an account of British 
 publications, he might, with great advantage, assume him as an 
 assistant. " He, (said Johnson) the little black dog ! I'd throw 
 him into the Thames." The scheme, however, was dropped. 
 
 In one of his little memorandum-books I find the following 
 hints for his intended Review or Literary Journal : " The Annals 
 of Literature, foreign as zvcll as dojuestick. Imitate Le Clerc — 
 Bayle — Barbeyrac. Infelicity of Journals in England. 'Works 
 of the learned." We cannot take in all. Sometimes copy from 
 foreign Journalists. Always tell." 
 
 "TO DR. BIRCH. 
 
 "March 29, 1755. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " I HAVE sent some parts of my Dictionary, such as were 
 at hand, for your inspection. The favour which I beg is, that if 
 you do not like them, you will say nothing. I am, Sir, 
 
 " Your most afiectionate humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "to mr. samuel johnson. 
 
 " Norfolk Street, April 23, 1755. 
 
 " The part of your Dictionary which you have favoured 
 me with the sight of has given me such an idea of the whole, 
 that I most sincerely congratulate the publick upon the ac- 
 quisition of a work long wanted, and now executed with an 
 industry, accuracy, and judgement, equal to the importance of 
 the subject. You might, perhaps, have chosen one in which 
 your genius would have appeared to more advantage, but you 
 could not have fixed upon any other in which your labours 
 would have done such substantial service to the present age and 
 
 whose works he afterwards pubHshed, would, as Dr. Hall observes, par- 
 ticularly at this period, have little recommendation to the good opinion of the 
 lexicographer ; but his Journal Britanniqiie is mentioned by Mr. Gibbon in 
 a tone very different from Dr. Johnson's. " This humble though useful 
 labour, which had once been dignified by the genius of Bayle and the learn- 
 ing of Le Clerc, was not disgraced by the taste, the knowledge, and the 
 judgment of Maty. His style is pure and eloquent, and in his virtues or 
 even in his defects he may be reckoned as one of the last disciples of the 
 school of Fontenelle." — Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works. Dr. ?^Iaty died in 
 1776.— Croker.]
 
 214 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 to posterity. I am glad that your health has supported the 
 appHcation necessary to the performance of so vast a task ; and 
 can undertake to promise you as one (though perhaps the 
 only) reward of it, the approbation and thanks of every 
 well-wisher to the honour of the English language. I am, 
 with the greatest regard, Sir, 
 " Your most faithful, 
 
 " And most affectionate humble servant, 
 
 " Tho. Birch." 
 
 Mr. Charles Burney,^ who has since distinguished himself so 
 much in the science of Musick, and obtained a Doctor's degree 
 from the University of Oxford, had been driven from the capital 
 by bad health, and was now residing at Lynne Regis in Norfolk. 
 He had been so much delighted by Johnson's Rambler, and 
 the plan of his Dictionary, that when the great work was 
 announced in the news-papers as nearly finished, he wrote to 
 Dr. Johnson, begging to be informed when and in what manner 
 his Dictionary would be published ; entreating, if it should be 
 by subscription, or he should have any books at his own disposal, 
 to be favoured with six copies for himself and friends. 
 
 In answer to this application, Dr. Johnson wrote the following 
 letter, of which (to use Dr. Burney's own words) "if it be re- 
 membered that it was written to an obscure young man, who 
 
 ^ [Charles Burney was born in Shrewsbury on the 7th of April, 1726, 
 educated at the free school there and at Chester, where he was taught music 
 by the organist of Chester Cathedral. He returned to Shrewsbury aged 
 fifteen and continued his musical studies under a half-brother, who was 
 organist of St. Mary's Church. Then he was sent to London, and became 
 for three years a pupil of Dr. Arne. In 1749 he became organist of a City 
 Church, with a salary of ;^30 a year, and conductor of a concert established 
 at the King's Arms, Cornhill. In 1749 and 1750 he produced the music of 
 three plays for Drury Lane. In 1751, health failing, he went to Lynn in 
 Norfolk, was made organist of a church there, and remained at Lynn till 
 1760. Then he returned to London with recovered health and continued his 
 career as a musician. In 1769, the University of O.xford conferred on him 
 the degrees of Bachelor and Doctor of Music. In 1770 he travelled in 
 France and Italy, and produced, as the result of his tour, in 1771, a volume 
 on "The Present State of Music in France and Italy." As the result of 
 another tour, he published, in 1773, two volumes on "The Present State of 
 Music in Germany, the Netherlands, and United Provinces." In 1776, he 
 published the first volume of a " History of Music" ; the second volume in 
 1782, the third and fourth volumes in 1789. In that year he was appointed, 
 through Burke's influence, organist to Chelsea Hospital, and he died at 
 Chelsea College, at the age of 88, in April 18 14.]
 
 Age 46.] CHARLES BURNEY. 215 
 
 at this time had not much distinguished himself even in his 
 own profession, but whose name could never have reached the 
 authour of The Rambler, the politeness and urbanity may be 
 opposed to some of the stories which have been lately circulated 
 of Dr. Johnson's natural rudeness and ferocity." 
 
 "TO MR. BURNEY, IN LYNNE REGIS, NORFOLK. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " If you imagine that by delaying my answer I intended 
 to shew any neglect of the notice with which you have favoured 
 me, you will neither think justly of yourself nor of me. Your 
 civilities were offered with too much elegance not to engage 
 attention ; and I have too much pleasure in pleasing men like 
 you, not to feel very sensibly the distinction you have bestowed 
 upon me. 
 
 " Few consequences of my endeavours to please or to benefit 
 mankind have delighted me more than your friendship thus 
 voluntarily offered, which now I have it I hope to keep, because 
 I hope to continue to deserve it. 
 
 " 1 have no Dictionaries to dispose of for myself, but shall be 
 glad to have you direct your friends to Mr. Dodsley, because it 
 was by his recommendation that I was employed in the work. 
 
 " When you have leisure to think again upon me, let me be 
 favoured with another letter ; and another yet when you have 
 looked into my Dictionary. If you find faults I shall endeavour 
 to mend them ; if you find none, I shall think you blinded by 
 kind partiality : but to have made you partial in his favour, 
 will very much gratify the ambition of. Sir, 
 
 " You most obliged, 
 
 " And most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " Gough-square, Fleet-street, April 8, I75S-" 
 
 Mr. Andrew Millar, bookseller in the Strand, took the principal 
 charge of conducting the publication of Johnson's Dictionary ; 
 and as the patience of the proprietors was repeatedly tried and 
 almost exhausted by their expecting that the work would be 
 compleated, within the time which Johnson had sanguinely 
 supposed, the learned authour was often goaded to despatch, 
 more especially as he had received all the copy money, by 
 different drafts, a considerable time before he had finished his
 
 2i6 BOSIVELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 task. When the messenger who carried the last sheet to Millar 
 returned, Johnson asked him, "Well, what did he say?" — "Sir, 
 answered tlie messenger,) he said, thank GOD I have done with 
 him." " I am glad (replied Johnson, with a smile) that he 
 thanks GOD for any thing." ^ It is remarkable, that those with 
 whom Johnson chiefly contracted for his literary labours were 
 Scotchmen, Mr. Millar and Mr. Strahan.^ Mr. Millar, though 
 himself no great judge of literature, had good sense enough to 
 have for his friends very able men, to give him their opinion 
 and advice in the purchase of copy-right ; the consequence of 
 which was his acquiring a very large fortune, with great 
 liberality. Johnson said of him, " I respect Millar, Sir ; he 
 has raised the price of literature." The same praise may be 
 justly given to Panckoucke, the eminent bookseller of Paris.^ 
 Mr. Straham's liberality, judgment, and success are well known. 
 
 "TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY, 
 
 LINCOLNSHIRE. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " Pr has been long observed, that men do not suspect 
 faults which they do not commit ; your own elegance of 
 manners, and punctuality of complaisance, did not suffer you 
 to impute to me that negligence of which I was guilty, and 
 which I have not since atoned. I received both your letters, 
 and received them with pleasure proportioned to the esteem 
 which so short an acquaintance strongly impressed, and which 
 I hope to confirm by nearer knowledge, though I am afraid 
 that gratification will be for a time withheld. 
 
 " I have, indeed, published my Book,* of which I beg to 
 know your father's judgment, and yours ; and I have now staid 
 
 1 Sir John Hawkins, p. 341, inserts two notes as having passed formally 
 between Andrew Millar and Johnson, to the above effect. I am assured this 
 was not the case. In the way of incidental remark it was a pleasant play of 
 raillery. To have deliberately written notes in such terms would have been 
 morose. 
 
 ^ [Dodslcy was the first who suggested the employment of Dr. Johnson in 
 the Dictionary. The other proprietors were Knapton, Hitch, and Hawes, 
 Millar, and M. and T. Longman. In a letter now before me, Johnson invites 
 these gentlemen (to sign and seal the articles of agreement) to breakfast at 
 his lodgings. "At the Golden Anchor near Holborn Bars." — Chalmers.] 
 
 ^ [Panckoucke was the founder of the French official Journal, Le 
 Monitetir?^ 
 
 * His Dictionary.
 
 Age 46.] JOHNSON'S MOTHER. 217 
 
 long enough to watch its progress in the world. It has, you 
 see, no patrons, and I think, has yet had no opponents, except 
 the criticks of the coffee-house, whose outcries are soon dispersed 
 into the air, and are thou:^ht on no more ; from this, therefore, I 
 am at liberty, and think of taking the opportunity of this 
 interval to make an excursion, and why not then into Lincoln- 
 shire ? or, to mention a stronger attraction, why not to dear 
 Mr. Langton } I will give the true reason, which I know you 
 will approve : — I have a mother more than eighty years old, 
 who has counted the days to the publication of my book, in 
 hopes of seeing me ; and to her, if I can disengage myself here, 
 I resolve to go. 
 
 " As I know, dear Sir, that to delay my visit for a reason like 
 this, will not deprive me of your esteem, I beg it may not 
 lessen your kindness. I have very seldom received an offer of 
 friendship which I so earnestly desire to cultivate and mature. 
 I shall rejoice to hear from you, till I can see you, and will see 
 you as soon as I can ; for when the duty that calls me to 
 Lichfield is discharged, my inclination will carry me to Langton. 
 I shall delight to hear the ocean roar, or see the stars twinkle, 
 in the company of men to whom Nature does not spread her 
 volume or utter her voice in vain. 
 
 " Do not, dear Sir, make the slowness of this letter a pre- 
 cedent for delay, or imagine that I approved the incivility that 
 I have committed ; for 1 have known you enough to love you, 
 and sincerely to wish a further knowledge ; and I assure you 
 once more that to live in a house that contains such a father 
 and such a son, will be accounted a very uncommon degree of 
 pleasure, by, dear Sir, 
 
 "Your most obliged, 
 
 " And most humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "May 6, 1755." 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I AM grieved that you should think me capable of 
 neglecting your letters ; and beg you will never admit any such 
 suspicion again. I purpose to come down next week, if you 
 shall be there ; or any other week that shall be more agreeable 
 to you. Therefore let me know. I can stay this visit but a 
 week ; but intend to make preparations for longer stay next 
 time, being resolved not to lose sight of the University. How
 
 2 1 8 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSOiY. [1755. 
 
 goes Apollonius?^ Don't let him be forgotten. Some things 
 of this kind must be done, to keep us up. Pay my compliments 
 to Mr. Wise, and all my other friends. I think to come to 
 Kettel-Hall.- I am, Sir, 
 
 " Your most affectionate, &c. 
 
 "Samuel Johnson. 
 
 "[London,] May 13, 1755." 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " It is strange how many things will happen to intercept 
 every pleasure, though it [be] only that of two friends meeting 
 together. I have promised myself every day to inform you 
 when you might expect me at Oxford, and have not been able 
 to fix a time. This time, however, is, I think, at last come ; and 
 I promise myself to repose in Kettel-Hall, one of the first 
 nights of the next week. I am afraid my stay with you cannot 
 be long ; but what is the inference .-* We must endeavour to 
 make it cheerful. I wish your brother could meet us, that we 
 might go and drink tea with Mr. Wise in a body. I hope he 
 will be at Oxford, or at his nest of British and Saxon 
 antiquities.^ I shall expect to see Spenser finished, and many 
 other things begun. Dodsley is gone to visit the Dutch. The 
 Dictionary sells well. The rest of the world goes on as it did. 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 " Your most affectionate, &c. 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "[London,] June 10. 1755." 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " To talk of coming to you, and not yet to come, has an 
 air of trifling which I would not willingly have among you ; and 
 which, I believe, you will not willingly impute to me, when I 
 
 1 [A translation of ApoUonius Rhodius was now intended by Mr. Warton. 
 — Warton.] 
 
 ^ [Kettel-Hall is an ancient tenement, adjoining to Trinity College, built 
 about the year 161 5, by Dr. Ralph Kettel, then President, for the accommoda- 
 tion of Commoners of that society. In this ancient hostel, then in a very 
 ruinous state, about forty years after Johnson had lodged there, Mr. Wind- 
 ham and the present writer were accommodated with two chambers, of 
 primitive simplicity, during the installation of the Duke of Pordand as 
 Chancellor of the University of Oxford, in 1793. It has since been converted 
 into a commodious private house. — Malone.] 
 
 ^ [At Ellsfield, a village three miles from Oxford.— Warton.]
 
 Age 46.] LETTERS TO THOMAS WARTON. 219 
 
 have told you, that since my promise, two of our partners^ are 
 dead, and that I was soHcited to suspend my excursion till we 
 could recover from our confusion. 
 
 " I have not laid aside my purpose ; for every day makes me 
 more impatient of staying from you. But death, you know, 
 hears not supplications, nor pays any regard to the convenience 
 of mortals. I hope now to see you next week ; but next week 
 is but another name for to-morrow, which has been noted for 
 promising and deceiving. 
 
 " I am, &c. 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 '•' [London] June 24, 1755." 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I TOLD you that among the manuscripts are some things 
 of Sir Thomas More. I beg you to pass an hour in looking on 
 them, and procure a transcript of the ten or twenty first lines 
 of each, to be compared with what I have ; that I may know 
 whether they are yet published. The manuscripts are these : 
 
 "Catalogue of Bodl. MS. pag. 122. F. 3. Sir Thomas 
 More, I. Fall of angels. 2. Creation and fall of mankind. 
 
 3. Determination of the Trinity for the rescue of mankind. 
 
 4. Five lectures of our Saviour's passion. 5. Of the institution 
 of the Sacrament, three lectures. 6. How to receive the blessed 
 body of our Lord sacramentally. 7. Neomenia, the new moon. 
 8. De tristitia, tadw, pavore, et oratione Christi ante captioneui 
 ejus. 
 
 " Catalogue, pag. 1 54. Life of Sir Thomas More. Qu. 
 Whether Roper's } Page 363. Dc rcsigiuitione Magni SigiUi 
 171 niamis Regis per D. Thomain JMornni. Pag. 364. Alori 
 Defcnsio ]\Iori(B. 
 
 " If you procure the young gentleman in the library to write 
 out what you think fit to be written, I will send to Mr. Prince 
 the bookseller to pay him what you shall think proper. 
 
 " Be pleased to make my compliments to Mr. Wise, and 
 all my friends. 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 " Your affectionate, &c. 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "[London] Aug. 7, 1755." 
 
 ^ [Booksellers concerned in his Dictionary. — Warton. Mr. Paul Knapton 
 died on the 12th, and Mr. Thomas Longman on the i8th June, 1755. — 
 Croker.]
 
 220 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 The Dictionary, with a Grammar and History of the Enghsh 
 Language, being now at length pubHshed, in two vohimes, foh'o,^ 
 the world contemplated with wonder so stupendous a work 
 atchieved by one man, while other countries had thought such 
 undertakings fit only for whole academies. Vast as his powers 
 were, I cannot but think that his imagination deceived him, 
 when he supposed that by constant application he might have 
 performed the task in three years. Let the Preface be attentively 
 perused, in which is given, in a clear, strong, and glowing style, 
 a comprehensive, yet particular, view of what he had done ; and 
 it will be evident, that the time he employed upon it was com- 
 paratively short. I am unwilling to swell my book with long 
 quotations from what is in everybody's hands, and I believe 
 there are few prose compositions in the English language that 
 are- read with more delight, or are more impressed upon the 
 memory, than that preliminary discourse. One of its excellen- 
 cies has always struck me with peculiar admiration ; I mean the 
 perspicuity with which he has expressed abstract scientifick 
 notions. As an instance of this, I shall quote the following 
 sentence : 
 
 "When the radical idea branches out into parallel ramifica- 
 tions, how can a consecutive series be formed of senses in their 
 own nature collateral ? " We have here an example of what has 
 been often said, and I believe with justice, that there is for every 
 thought a certain nice adaptation of words which none other 
 could equal, and which, when a man has been so fortunate as to 
 hit, he has attained, in that particular case, the perfection 
 of language. 
 
 The extensive reading which was absolutely necessary for the 
 accumulation of authorities, and which alone may account for 
 Johnson's retentive mind being enriched with a very large and 
 various store of knowledge and imagery, must have occupied 
 several years. The Preface furnishes an eminent instance of a 
 double talent, of which Johnson was fully conscious. Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds heard him say, " There are two things which I am 
 confident I can do very well : one is an introduction to any 
 
 1 [ April 15, 1755, price l\ lox]
 
 Age 46.] JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY. 221 
 
 literary work, stating what it is to contain, and how it should be 
 executed in the most perfect manner : the other is a conclusion 
 shewing from various causes why the execution has not been 
 equal to what the authour promised to himself and to the 
 publick." 
 
 How should puny scribblers be abashed and disappointed, 
 when they find him displaying a perfect theory of lexicographical 
 excellence, yet at the same time candidly and modestly allowing 
 that he " had not satisfied his own expectations." Here was a 
 fair occasion for the exercise of Johnson's modesty, when he 
 was called upon to compare his own arduous performance, not 
 with those of other individuals, (in which case his inflexible 
 regard to truth would have been violated had he affected 
 diffidence,) but with speculative perfection ; as he, who can 
 outstrip all his competitors in the race, may yet be sensible of 
 his deficiency when he runs against time. Well might he say, 
 that " the English Dictionary was written with little assistance 
 of the learned ; " for he told me, that the only aid which he 
 received was a paper containing twenty etymologies, sent to 
 him by a person then unknown, who he was afterwards informed 
 was Dr. Pearce, Bishop of Rochester.^ The etymologies, though 
 they exhibit learning and judgement, are not, I think, entitled 
 to the first praise amongst the various parts of this immense 
 work. The definitions have always appeared to me such 
 astonishing proofs of acuteness of intellect and precision of 
 language, as indicate a genius of the highest rank. That it is 
 which marks the superior excellence of Johnson's Dictionary 
 and others equally or even more voluminous, and must have 
 made it a work of much greater mental labour than mere 
 Lexicons, or Word-Books, as the Dutch call them. They, who 
 will make the experiment of trying how they can define a few 
 words of whatever nature, will soon be satisfied of the un- 
 questionable justice of this observation, which I can assure my 
 
 1 [Zachary Pearce, born in 1690, was the son of a distiller in High Hol- 
 born : he was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, and became Bishop of 
 Rochester in 1756. He died June 29, 1774. See^os/, under 19th May, 1777. 
 — Croker.]
 
 222 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 readers is founded upon much study, and upon communication 
 with more minds than my own. 
 
 A few of his definitions must be admitted to be erroneous.- 
 Thus, Windward and Leeward} though directly of opposite 
 meaning, are defined identically the same way ; ^ as to which 
 inconsiderable specks it is enough to observe, that his Preface 
 announces that he was aware there might be many such in so 
 immense a work ; nor was he at all disconcerted when an 
 instance was pointed out to him. A lady once asked him how 
 he came to define Pastern the kiiee of a horse ; instead of 
 making an elaborate defence, as she expected, he at once 
 answered, " Ignorance, Madam, pure ignorance." His defini- 
 tion of Network^ has been often quoted with sportive malignity, 
 as obscuring a thing in itself very plain. But to these frivolous 
 censures no other answer is necessary than that with which we 
 are furnished by his own Preface. 
 
 " To explain, requires the use of terms less abstruse than that 
 which is to be explained, and such terms cannot always be 
 found. For as nothing can be proved but by supposing some- 
 thing intuitively known, and evident without proof, so nothing 
 can be defined but by the use of words too plain to admit of 
 definition. Sometimes easier words are changed into harder; 
 as burial, into scpultiirc or inter jucjit ; dry, into desiccative ; 
 dryness, into siceity or aridity ; fit, into paroxism; for, the 
 easiest word, whatever it be, can never be translated into one 
 more easy." 
 
 His introducing his own opinions, and even prejudices, under 
 general definitions of words, while at the same time the original 
 meaning of the words is not explained, as his Tory, Whig, 
 Pension, Oats, Excise,^ and a few more, cannot be fully defended, 
 
 ^ [Towards the wind.] 
 
 ^ [He owns in his Preface the deficiency of the technical part of his work ; 
 and he said he should be much obhged to me for definitions of musical 
 terms for his next edition, which he did not hve to superintend. — Burney.] 
 
 3 [" Anything reticulated or decussated at equal distances, with interstices 
 between the intersections.''] 
 
 * He thus defines Excise : "A hateful tax levied upon commodities, and 
 adjudged not by the common judges of property, but wretches hired by those 
 to whom Excise is paid." The Commissioners of Excise being offended by 
 this severe reflection, consulted Mr. Murray, then Attorney-General, to know
 
 ^GE46.] DEFINITIONS IN THE DICTIONARY. 223 
 
 and must be placed to the account of capricious and humorous 
 indulgence. Talking to me upon this subject when we were at 
 Ashbourne in 1777, he mentioned a still stronger instance of the 
 predominance of his private feelings in the composition of this 
 work, than any now to be found in it. "You know, Sir, Lord 
 Gower forsook the old Jacobite interest. When I came to the 
 word Renegado, after telling that it meant ' one who deserts to 
 the enemy, a revoltcr,' I added, Souictimes zve say a GoWER. 
 Thus it went to the press : but the printer had more wit than I, 
 and struck it out." 
 
 whether redress could be legally obtained. I wished to have procured for 
 my readers a copy of the opinion which he gave, and which may now be 
 justly considered as history : but the mysterious secresy of office, it seems, 
 would not permit it. I am, however, informed, by very good authority, that 
 its import was, that the passage might be considered as actionable ; but that 
 it would be more prudent in the board not to prosecute. Johnson never made 
 the smallest alteration in this passage. We find he still retained his early 
 prejudice against Excise ; for in " The Idler," No. 65, there is the following 
 very extraordinary paragraph: "The authenticity of Clarendoiis history, 
 though printed with the sanction of one of the first Universities of the world, 
 had not an unexpected manuscript been happily discovered, would, with the 
 help of factious credulity, have been brought into question by the two lowest 
 of all human beings, a Scribbler for a party, and a Commissioner of Excise." 
 The persons to whom he alludes were Mr. John Oldmixon, and George 
 Ducket, Esq. 
 
 [I am more fortunate than Mr. Boswell, in being able (through the favour of 
 Sir F. Doyle, deputy-chairman of the Excise Board) to present the reader 
 with the case submitted to Lord Mansfield, and his opinion. 
 
 " Case for the opinion of Mr. Attorney-General. 
 
 " Mr. Samuel Johnson has lately published 'A Dictionary of the English 
 Language,' in which are the following words : 
 
 " ' Excise, ;/. s. A hateful tax levied upon commodities, and adjudged 
 not by the common judges of property, but by wretches hired by those to 
 whom excise is paid.' 
 
 " The author's definition being observed by the Commissioners of Excise, 
 they desire the favour of your opinion. ' Qii. Whether it will not be con- 
 sidered as a libel, and if so, whether it is not proper to proceed against the 
 author, printers, and publishers thereof, or any and which of them, by in- 
 formation, or how otherwise .'' 
 
 "I am of opinion that it is a libel. But under all the circumstances, I 
 should think it better to give him an opportunity of altering his definition ; 
 and, in case he do not, to threaten him with an information. 
 
 "W. Murray. 
 
 "29th Nov. 1755." 
 
 Whether any such step was taken, Sir Francis Doyle was not able to 
 discover: probably not ; but Johnson, in his own octavo abridgment of the 
 Dictionary, had the good sense to omit the more oftensive parts of the 
 definitions of both EXCISE and PENSION. We have already seen {ante, p. 11. 
 n. 3.) the probable motive of the attack on the Excise. — Croker.]
 
 224 BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 Let it, however, be remembered, that this indulgence does not 
 display itself only in sarcasm towards others, but sometimes in 
 playful allusion to the notions commonly entertained of his own 
 laborious task. Thus ; " Grub-street, the name of a street in 
 London, much inhabited by writers of small histories, diction- 
 aries, and temporary poems; whence any mean production is 
 called Grub-street." — "Lexicographer, a writer of dictionaries, a 
 harmless dnidge." 
 
 At the time when he was concluding his very eloquent 
 Preface, Johnson's mind appears to have been in such a state 
 of depression, that we cannot contemplate without wonder the 
 vigorous and splendid thoughts which so highly distinguish that 
 performance. " I (says he) may surely be contented without 
 the praise of perfection, which if I could obtain in this gloom 
 of solitude, what would it avail me .? I have protracted my 
 work till most of those whom I wished to please have sunk into 
 the grave ; and success and miscarriage are empty sounds. I 
 therefore dismiss it with frigid tranquillity, having little to fear 
 or hope from censure or from praise." That this indifference 
 was rather a temporary than an habitual feeling, appears, I 
 think, from his letters to Mr. Warton ; and however he may 
 have been affected for the moment, certain it is that the honours 
 which his great work procured him, both at home and abroad, 
 were very grateful to him. His friend, the Earl of Corke and 
 Orrery, being at Florence, presented it to the Acadcmia della 
 Crusca. That Academy sent Johnson their Vocabolario, and the 
 French Academy sent him their Dictionnaire, which Mr. Langton 
 had the pleasure to convey to him. 
 
 It must undoubtedly seem strange, that the conclusion of his 
 Preface should be expressed in terms so desponding, when it is 
 considered that the authour was then only in his forty-sixth 
 year. But we must ascribe its gloom to that miserable dejection 
 of spirits to which he was constitutionally subject, and which 
 was aggravated by tlic death of his wife two years before. I 
 have heard it ingeniously observed by a lady of rank and 
 elegance, that "his melancholy was then at its meridian." It 
 pleased GOD to grant him almost thirty years of life after this 
 time ; and once, when he was in a placid frame of mind, he
 
 Age 46.] THE TOUCH OF HYPOCHONDRIA. 225 
 
 was obliged to own to me that he had enjoyed happier days, 
 and had many more friends, since that gloomy hour, than 
 before. 
 
 It is a sad saying, that " most of those whom he wished to 
 please had sunk into the grave ; " and his case at forty-five was 
 singularly unhappy, unless the circle of his friends was very 
 narrow. I have often thought, that as longevity is generally 
 desired, and I believe, generally expected, it would be wise to be 
 continually adding to the number of our friends, that the loss of 
 some may be supplied by others. Friendship, " the wine of life," 
 should, like a well-stocked cellar, be thus continually renewed ; 
 and it is consolatory to think, that although we can seldom 
 add what will equal the generous first growths of our youth, yet 
 friendship becomes insensibly old in much less time than is 
 commonly imagined, and not many years are required to make 
 it very mellow and pleasant. Warmth will, no doubt make a 
 considerable difference. Men of affectionate temper and bright 
 fancy will coalesce a great deal sooner than those who are cold 
 and dull. 
 
 The proposition which I have now endeavoured to illustrate 
 was, at a subsequent period of his life, the opinion of Johnson 
 himself. He said to Sir Joshua Reynolds, " If a man does not 
 make new acquaintances as he advances through life, he will soon 
 find himself left alone. A man, Sir, should keep his friendship 
 in constant repair." 
 
 The celebrated Mr. Wilkes, whose notions and habits of 
 life were very opposite to his, but who was ever eminent 
 for literature and vivacity, sallied forth with a little Jcii 
 iVEsprit upon the following passage in his Grammar of the 
 English Tongue, prefixed to the Dictionary : " H seldom, 
 perhaps never, begins any but the first syllable." In an 
 essay printed in " the Publick Advertiser," this lively writer 
 enumerated many instances in opposition to this remark ; 
 for example : " The authour of this observation must be a 
 man of a quick apprc-hension, and of a most compre-hcnsivc 
 genius." The position is undoubtedly expressed with too 
 much latitude. 
 
 This light sally, we may suppose, made no great impression 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1755. 
 
 on our Lexicographer ; for wc find that he did not alter the 
 passage till many years afterwards.^ 
 
 He had the pleasure of being treated in a very different 
 manner by his old pupil Mr. Garrick, in the following com- 
 plimentary Epigram : 
 
 "ON JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY. 
 
 " Talk of war with a Briton, he'll boldly advance, 
 That one English soldier will beat ten of France ; 
 Would we alter the boast from the sword to the pen, 
 Our odds are still greater, still greater our men ; 
 In the deep mines of science though Frenchmen may toil, 
 Can their strength be compar'd to Locke, Newton, and Boyle ? 
 Let them rally their heroes, send forth all their pow'rs, 
 Their verse-men and prose-men, then match them with ours ! 
 First Shakspeare and Milton, like Gods in the fight. 
 Have put their whole drama and epick to flight ; 
 In satires, epistles, and odes, would they cope, 
 Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope; 
 And Johnson, well-arm'd, like a hero of yore. 
 Has beat forty French,^ and will beat forty more ! " 
 
 Johnson this year gave at once a proof of his benevolence, 
 quickness of apprehension, and admirable art of composition, 
 in the assistance which he gave to Mr. Zachariah Williams, 
 father of the blind lady whom he had humanely received under 
 his roof. Mr. Williams had followed the profession of physick 
 in Wales ; but having a very strong propensity to the study of 
 natural philosophy, had made many ingenious advances towards 
 a discovery of the longitude, and repaired to London in hopes of 
 obtaining the great parliamentary reward. He failed of success ; 
 but Johnson having made himself master of his principles and 
 experiments, wrote for him a pamphlet, published in quarto, 
 with the following title: "An Account of an Attempt to 
 ascertain the Longitude at Sea, by an exact Theory of the 
 Variation of the Magnetical Needle ; with a Table of the 
 Variations at the most remarkable Cities in Europe, from the 
 year 1660 to 1680. "-f- To diffuse it more extensively, it was 
 
 ^ In the third edition, published in 1773, he left out the words perhaps 
 never, and added the following paragraph : — ■ 
 
 "It sometimes begins middle or final syllables in words compounded, as 
 block-head, or derived from the Latin, as compre-hendedy 
 
 2 The number of the French Academy employed in settling their 
 language.
 
 Age 46.] ZACHARIAH WILLIAMS— RELIGION. 227 
 
 accompanied with an Italian translation on the opposite page, 
 which it is supposed was the work of Signor Baretti/ an Italian 
 of considerable literature, who having come to England a few 
 years before, had been employed in the capacity both of a 
 language master and an authour, and formed an intimacy with 
 Dr. Johnson. This pamphlet Johnson presented to the Bodleian 
 library. On a blank leaf of it is pasted a paragraph cut out of 
 a newspaper, containing an account of the death and character 
 of Williams, plainly written by Johnson.^ 
 
 In July this year he had formed some scheme of mental 
 improvement, the particular purpose of which does not appear. 
 But we find in his "Prayers and Meditations," p. 25, a prayer 
 entitled, " On the study of Philosophy, as an instrument of 
 living ; " and after it follows a note, " This study was not 
 pursued." 
 
 On the 13th of the same month he wrote in his Journal the 
 following scheme of life, for Sunday : " Having lived " (as he 
 with tenderness of conscience expresses himself) " not without 
 an habitual reverence for the Sabbath, yet without that attention 
 to its religious duties which Christianity requires ; " 
 
 " I. To rise early, and in order to it, to go to sleep early on 
 Saturday. 
 
 " 2. To use some extraordinary devotion in the morning. 
 
 " 3. To examine the tenour of my life, and particularly the 
 last week ; and to mark my advances in religion, or recession 
 from it. 
 
 ^.[This ingenious foreigner, -vvho was a native of Piedmont, came to 
 England about the year 1753, and died in London, May 5, 1789. A very 
 candid and judicious account of him and his works, beginning with the words 
 " So much asperity," and written, it is believed, by a distinguished dignitary 
 in the church, may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine for that year, 
 
 p. 469.— M ALONE.] 
 
 ■'' "On Saturday the 12th, about twelve at night, died Mr. Zachariah 
 Williams, in his eighty-third year, after an illness of eight months, in full 
 possession of his mental faculties. He has been long known to philosophers 
 and seamen for his skill in magnetism, and his proposal to ascertain the 
 longitude by a peculiar system of the variation of the compass. He was a 
 man of industry indefatigable, of conversation inoffensive, patient of adversity 
 and disease, eminently sober, temperate, and pious ; and worthy to have ended 
 life with better fortune." [A note of Thomas Warton's fixes the date of the 
 death of Zachariah Williams as the 12th of July in this year, 1755.] 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1756. 
 
 "4. To read the Scripture methodically with such helps as 
 arc at hand. 
 
 " 5- To go to church twice. 
 
 " 6. To read books of Divinity, either speculative or practical. 
 
 "7. To instruct my family. 
 
 " 8. To wear off by meditation any worldly soil contracted 
 in the week." 
 
 In 1756 Johnson found that the great fame of his Dictionary 
 had not set him above the necessity of " making provision for 
 the day that was passing over him." ^ No royal or noble patron 
 extended a munificent hand to give independence to the man 
 who had conferred stability on the language of his countr)'. 
 We may feel indignant that there should have been such 
 unworthy neglect ; but we must, at the same time, congratulate 
 ourselves, when we consider, that to this very neglect, operating 
 to rouse the natural indolence of his constitution, we owe many 
 valuable productions, which otherwise, perhaps, might never 
 have appeared. 
 
 He had spent, during the progress of the work, the money for 
 which he had contracted to write his Dictionary. We have seen 
 that the reward of his labour was only fifteen hundred and 
 seventy-five pounds ; and when the expence of amanuenses and 
 paper, and other articles, are deducted, his clear profit was 
 very inconsiderable. I once said to him, " I am sorry. Sir, you 
 did not get more for your Dictionary." His answer was, " I am 
 sorry too. But it was very well. The booksellers are generous, 
 liberal-minded men." He, upon all occasions, did ample justice 
 to their character in this respect. He considered them as the 
 patrons of literature ; and, indeed, although they have eventually 
 been considerable gainers by his Dictionary, it is to them that 
 
 1 He was so far from being " set above the necessity of making provision 
 for the day that was passing over him," that he appears to have been in this 
 year in great pecuniary distress, having been arrested for debt ; on which 
 occasion his friend, Samuel Richardson, became his surety. See a letter 
 from Johnson to him, on that subject, dated Feb. 19, 1756. Richardson's 
 Correspondence, vol. v. p. 283. — Malone.] [Dr. Johnson made another 
 application to Mr. Richardson, in a letter dated March 19, of the sanoe year, 
 stating that he was arrested for 5/. iSi'. Mr. Richardson sent six guineas. 
 See Murphy's Life of Johnson, p. 86. It appeared first in the Gent. Mag. 
 circa 1786-7. — CHALMERS.]
 
 AGE 47.] rOVERTY— SICKNESS— RELIGION. 229 
 
 we owe its having been undertaken and carried through at the 
 risk of great expence, for they were not absolutely sure of 
 being indemnified. 
 
 On the first day of this year^ we find from his private 
 devotions, that he had then recovered from sickness,^ and in 
 February, that his eye was restored to its use.^ The pious 
 gratitude with which he acknowledges mercies upon every 
 occasion is very edifying ; as is the humble submission which 
 he breathes, when it is the will of his heavenly Father to try 
 him with afflictions. As such dispositions become the state 
 of man here, and are the true effects of religious discipline, we 
 cannot but venerate in Johnson one of the most exercised minds 
 that our holy religion hath ever formed. If there be any 
 thoughtless enough to suppose such exercise the weakness of a 
 great understanding, let them look up to Johnson, and be 
 convinced that what he so earnestly practised must have 
 a rational foundation. 
 
 His works this year were, an abstract or epitome, in octavo, 
 of his folio Dictionary, and a few essays in a monthly pub- 
 lication, entitled "The Universal Visiter." Christopher 
 Smart, with whose unhappy vacillation of mind he sincerely 
 sympathised, was one of the stated undertakers of this mis- 
 cellany ; and it was to assist him that Johnson sometimes 
 employed his pen. All the essays marked with two asterisks 
 have been ascribed to him ; but I am confident, from internal 
 evidence, that of these, neither " The Life of Chaucer," 
 " Reflections on the State of Portugal," nor an " Essay on 
 Architecture," were written by him. I am equally confident, 
 upon the same evidence, that he wrote " Further Thoughts on 
 Agriculture ; " ^ being the sequel of a very inferior essay on the 
 
 ^ [In April in this year, Johnson wrote a letter to Dr. Joseph Warton, in 
 consequence of having read a few pages of that gentleman's newly published 
 " Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope." The only paragraph in it that 
 respects Johnson's personal history is this : " For my part I have not lately done 
 much. I have been ill in the winter, and my eye has been inflamed ; but I 
 please myself with the hopes of doing many things, with which I have long 
 pleased and deceived myself!" Memoirs of Dr. J. Warton, (S:c. 4to. 1806. 
 — Malone.] 
 
 2 Prayers and Meditations. 
 ' ^ Ibid. p. 27.
 
 230 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1756. 
 
 same subject, and which, though carried on as if by the same 
 hand, is both in thinking and expression so far above it, and so 
 strikingly peculiar, as to leave no doubt of its true parent; and 
 that he also wrote, " A Dissertation on the State of Literature, 
 and Authours," -f and " A Dissertation on the Epitaphs written 
 by Pope." * The last of these, indeed, he afterwards added to 
 his " Idler." " Why the essays truly written by him are marked 
 in the same manner with some which he did not write, I cannot 
 explain ; but with deference to those who have ascribed to him 
 the three essays which I have rejected, they want all the 
 characteristical marks of Johnsonian composition. 
 
 He engaged also to superintend and contribute largely to 
 another monthly publication, entitled " THE LITERARY MAGA- 
 ZINE, OR Universal Review;"* the first number of which 
 came out in May^ this year. What were his emolu- 
 ments from this undertaking, and what other writers were 
 employed in it, I have not discovered. He continued to write 
 in it, with intermissions, till the fifteenth number ; and I think 
 that he never gave better proofs of the force, acuteness, and 
 vivacity of his mind, than in this miscellany, whether we consider 
 his original essays, or his reviews of the works of others. The 
 " Preliminary Address " ^ to the publick, is a proof how this 
 great man could embellish, with the graces of superiour com- 
 position, even so trite a thing as the plan of a magazine. 
 
 His original essays are, "An Introduction to the Political 
 State of Great Britain ;"t "Remarks on the Militia Bill;"t 
 " Observations on his Britannick Majesty's Treaties with the 
 Empress of Russia and the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel ; " + 
 " Observations on the Present State of Affairs ; " "j* and, 
 "Memoirs of Frederick IIP, King ot Prussia.""]* In all 
 these he displays extensive political knowledge and sagacity, 
 expressed with uncommon energy and perspicuity, without any 
 of those words which he sometimes took a pleasure in adopting, 
 in imitation of Sir Thomas Browne ; of whose " Christian 
 Morals " he this year gave an edition, with his " Life " * prefixed 
 
 ^ [The first number came out on April 15, the second in May. They 
 were pubHshcd, unlike the other Magazines, on the 15th of each month. — 
 Chalmers.]
 
 Age 47-] ESSAYS AND REVIEWS. 231 
 
 to it, which is one of Johnson's best biographical performances. 
 In one instance only in these essays has he indulged his 
 Brownisvi. Dr. Robertson, the historian, mentioned it to me, 
 as having at once convinced him that Johnson was the authour 
 of the " Memoirs of the King of Prussia." Speaking of the 
 pride which the old King, the father of his hero, took in being 
 master of the tallest regiment in Europe, he says, " To review 
 this towering regiment was his daily pleasure ; and to perpetuate 
 it was so much his care, that when he met a tall woman he 
 immediately commanded one of Titanian retinue to marry her, 
 that they might propagate procerity." For this Anglo-Latin 
 \Yor d procerity, Johnson had, however, the authority of Addison. 
 His reviews are of the following books : " Birch's History 
 of the Royal Society ;" ■(■ "Murphy's Gray's-Inn Journal ;"-j- 
 "Warton's Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope," 
 vol. i. ; i* " Hampton's Translation of Polybius ; " -|* " Blackwell's 
 Memoirs of the Court of Augustus ; " f " Russell's Natural 
 History of Aleppo ; " i* " Sir Isaac Newton's Arguments in Proof 
 of a Deity ;"-f- " Borlase's History of the Isles of Scilly;"-}* 
 " Holme's Experiments on Bleaching ; " f " Browne's Christian 
 Morals ; " f " Hales on Distilling Sea-Water, Ventilators in 
 Ships, and Curing an ill Taste in Milk ; " -f* " Lucas's Essay on 
 Waters ;"t "Keith's Catalogue of the Scottish Bishops ;" f 
 "Browne's History of Jamaica ;" -f" "Philosophical Trans- 
 actions/' vol. xlix. ;-f- "Mrs. Lennox's Translation of Sully's 
 Memoirs ; " * " Miscellanies, by Elizabeth Harrison ; " f 
 " Evans's Map and Account of the Middle Colonies in 
 America ;"-f- "Letter on the Case of Admiral Byng ; " * 
 "Appeal to the People concerning Admiral Byng;"* 
 " Hanway's Eight Days' Journey, and Essay on Tea ; " * " The 
 Cadet, a Military Treatise ; " -f " Some further Particulars in 
 Relation to the Case of Admiral Byng, by a Gentleman of 
 Oxford ; " * " The Conduct of the Ministry relating to the 
 present War impartially examined ;"i- "A Free Inquiry into 
 the Nature and Origin of Evil." * All these, from internal 
 evidence, were written by Johnson : some of them I know he 
 avowed, and have marked them with an asterisk accordingly. 
 Mr. Thomas Davies, indeed, ascribed to him the Review of INIr.
 
 232 BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1756. 
 
 Burke's " Inquiry into the Origin of our ideas of the Sublime 
 and Beautiful ; " and Sir John Hawkins, with equal discernment, 
 has inserted it in his collection of Johnson's works : whereas it 
 has no resemblance to Johnson's composition, and is well known 
 to have been written by Mr. Murphy, who has acknowledged it 
 to me and many others. 
 
 It is worthy of remark, in justice to Johnson's political char- 
 acter, which has been misrepresented as abjectly submissive 
 to power, that his " Observations on the present State of 
 Affairs" glow with as animated a spirit of constitutional liberty 
 as can be found any where. Thus he begins : 
 
 " The time is now come, in which every Englishman expects 
 to be informed of the national affairs ; and in which he has 
 a right to have that expectation gratified. For, whatever 
 may be urged by Ministers, or those whom vanity or interest 
 make the followers of Ministers, concerning the necessity of 
 confidence in our governours, and the presumption of prying 
 with profane eyes into the recesses of policy, it is evident 
 that this reverence can be claimed only by counsels yet un- 
 executed, and projects suspended in deliberation. But when 
 a design has ended in miscarriage or success, when every eye 
 and every ear is witness to general discontent, or general 
 satisfaction, it is then a proper time to disentangle confusion 
 and illustrate obscurity ; to shew by what causes every event 
 was produced, and in what effects it is likely to terminate ; to 
 lay down with distinct particularity what rumour always 
 huddles in general exclamation, or perplexes by indigested 
 narratives ; to shew whence happiness or calamity is derived, 
 and whence it may be expected ; and honestly to lay before 
 the people what inquiry can gather of the past, and conjecture 
 can estimate of the future." 
 
 Here we have it assumed as an incontrovertible principle, that 
 in this country the people are the superintendents of the con- 
 duct and measures of those by whom government is adminis- 
 tered ; of the beneficial effect of which the present reign afforded 
 an illustrious example, when addresses from all parts of the 
 kingdom controuled an audacious attempt to introduce a new 
 power subversive of the crown. ^ 
 
 1 [Mr. Boswell means Mr. Fo.x's celebrated India Bill, as an adversary of
 
 Age 47-] ESSAYS AND REVIEWS. 233 
 
 A still stronger proof of his patriotick spirit appears in his 
 review of an " Essay on Waters, by Dr. Lucas," ^ of whom, 
 after describing him as a man well known to the world for his 
 daring defiance to power, when he thought it exerted on the side 
 of wrong, he thus speaks : 
 
 "The Irish Ministers drove him from his native country by a 
 proclamation, in which they charge him with crimes of which 
 they never intended to be called to the proof, and oppressed him 
 by methods equally irresistible by guilt and innocence. Let the 
 man thus driven into exile, for having been the friend of his 
 country, be received in every other place as a confessor of 
 liberty ; and let the tools of power be taught in time, that they 
 may rob, but cannot impoverish." 
 
 Some of his reviews in this Magazine are very short accounts 
 of the pieces noticed, and I mention them only that Dr. Johnson's 
 opinion of the works may be known ; but many of them are 
 examples of elaborate criticism, in the most masterly style. \n 
 his review of the " Memoirs of the Court of Augustus," he has 
 •the resolution to think and speak from his own mind, regardless 
 of the cant transmitted from age to age, in praise of the ancient 
 Romans. Thus : " I know not why any one but a school-boy in 
 his declamation should whine over the Commonwealth of Rome, 
 which grew great only by the misery of the rest of mankind. 
 The Romans, like others, as soon as they grew rich, grew cor- 
 rupt ; and in their corruption sold the lives and freedoms of 
 themselves, and of one another." Again, " A people, who while 
 they were poor robbed mankind ; and as soon as they became 
 rich, robbed one another." In his review of the Miscellanies in 
 prose and verse, published by Elizabeth Harrison, but written by 
 many hands, he gives an eminent proof at once of his orthodoxy 
 and candour. 
 
 which he distinguished himself as much as a man in a private station could 
 do. — Croker.] 
 
 ^ [Dr. Lucas was an apothecary in Dublin (afterwards M.D.), who brought 
 himself into public notice and a high degree of popularity by his writings and 
 speeches against the government. He was elected representative of l3ublin 
 in 1 761 ; and a marble statue to his honour is erected in the Royal Exchange 
 of that city. He died in Nov. 1771. — Croker.]
 
 234 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1756. 
 
 " The authours of the essays in prose seem generally to have 
 imitated, or tried to imitate, the copiousness and luxuriance of 
 Mrs. Rozvc. This, however, is not all their praise ; they have 
 laboured to add to her brightness of imagery, her purity of sen- 
 timents. The poets have had Dr. Watts before their eyes ; a 
 writer, who, if he stood not in the first class of genius, com- 
 pcrrsated that defect by a ready application of his powers to the 
 promotion of piety. The attempt to employ the ornaments of 
 romance in the decoration of religion, was, I think, first made 
 by Vix. Boyle s Martyrdom of Theodora ; but ^<?7/^'j philosophical 
 studies did not allow him time for the cultivation of style : and 
 the completion of the great design was reserved for Mrs. Rozue. 
 Dr. Watts was one of the first who taught the dissenters to write 
 and speak like other men, by shewing them that elegance might 
 consist with piety. They would have both done honour to a 
 better society, for they had that charity which might well make 
 their failings forgotten, and with which the whole Christian 
 world might wish for communion. They were pure from all the 
 heresies of an age, to which every opinion is become a favourite 
 that the universal church has hitherto detested ! This praise 
 the general interest of mankind requires to be given to writers 
 who please and do not corrupt, who instruct and do not weary. 
 But to them all human eulogies are vain, whom I believe 
 applauded by angels, and numbered with the just." 
 
 His defence of tea against Mr. Jonas Hanway's violent attack 
 upon that elegant and popular beverage, shews how very well a 
 man of genius can write upon the slightest subject, when he 
 writes, as the Italians say, co7i ainore :'^ I suppose no person ever 
 enjoyed with more relish the infusion of that fragrant leaf than 
 Johnson. The quantities which he drank of it at all hours were 
 so great, that his nerves must have been uncommonly strong, not 
 to have been extremely relaxed by such an intemperate use of 
 it. He assured me that he never felt the least inconvenience 
 
 ^ [In this review, Johnson candidly describes himself as "a hardened and 
 shameless tea-drinker, who has for many years diluted his meals with only 
 the infusion of this fascinating plant ; whose kettle has scarcely time to cool ; 
 who with tea amuses the evening, with tea solaces the midnight, and with tea 
 welcomes the morning." This last phrase his friend, Tom Tyers, happily 
 parodied, "/^ veniente die — te decedentc." Hawkins calls his addiction to it 
 unnianly, and almost gives it the colour of a crime. The Rev. Mr. Parker, of 
 Henley, is in possession of a tea-pot which belonged to Dr. Johnson, and 
 which contains above two quarts. — Croker.]
 
 Age 47-] DEFENCE OF TEA. 235 
 
 from it ; which is a proof that the fault of his constitution was 
 rather a too great tension of fibres, than the contrary. Mr. 
 Hanway wrote an angry answer to Johnson's review of his Essay 
 on Tea, and Johnson, after a full and deliberate pause, made a 
 reply to it ; the only instance, I believe, in the whole course of 
 his life, when he condescended to oppose any thing written that 
 was against him. I suppose when he thought of any of his little 
 antagonists, he was ever justly aware of the high sentiment of 
 Ajax in Ovid : 
 
 " Iste tulit pretiimi jam nunc certamhiis hiij'us, 
 Qui, cum victus erit, mecum ccrtasse fereiur." ^ 
 
 But, indeed, the good Mr. Hanway laid himself so open to 
 ridicule, that Johnson's animadversions upon his attack were 
 chiefly to make sport. 
 
 The generosity with which he pleads the cause of Admiral 
 Byng is highly to the honour of his heart and spirit. Though 
 Voltaire affects to be witty upon the fate of that unfortunate 
 officer, observing that he was shot "pour encourager les antrcs" 
 the nation has long been satisfied that his life was sacrificed to 
 the political fervour of the times. In the vault belonging to the 
 Torrington family, in the church of Southill, in Bedfordshire, 
 there is the following Epitaph upon his monument, which I 
 have transcribed : 
 
 " To THE PERPETUAL DISGRACE 
 
 OF PUBLICK Justice, 
 The Honourable John Byng, Esq. 
 Admiral of the Blue, 
 Fell a Martyr to political 
 
 Persecution, 
 
 March 14, in the year 1757 ; 
 
 WHEN Bravery and Loyalty 
 
 were insufficient Securities 
 
 for the Life and Honour of 
 
 A Naval Officer." 
 
 Johnson's most exquisite critical essay in the Literary 
 Magazine, and indeed any where, is his review of Soame 
 Jenyns's " Inquiry into the Origin of Evil." Jenyns was 
 
 ^ [Losing, he wins, because his name will be 
 Ennobled by defeat, who durst contend with me. — Dryden.]
 
 236 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1756- 
 
 possessed of lively talents, and a style eminently pure and easy, 
 
 and could very happily play with a light subject, cither in prose 
 
 or verse ; but when he speculated on that most difficult and 
 
 excruciating question, the Origin of Evilj he "ventured far 
 
 beyond his depth," and, accordingly, was exposed by Johnson, 
 
 both with acute argument and brilliant wit. I remember when 
 
 the late Mr. Bicknell's humorous performance, entitled "The 
 
 Musical Travels of Joel Collyer," in which a slight attempt 
 
 is made to ridicule Johnson, was ascribed to Soame Jenyns, 
 
 " Ha ! (said Johnson) I thought I had given /mn enough of it." 
 
 His triumph over Jenyns is thus described by my friend 
 
 Mr. Courtenay in his " Poetical Review of the literary and 
 
 moral Character of Dr. Johnson ; " a performance of such 
 
 merit, that had I not been honoured with a very kind and 
 
 partial notice in it, I should echo the sentiments of men of the 
 
 first taste loudly in its praise : 
 
 "When specious sophists with presumption scan 
 The source of evil hidden still from man ; 
 Revive Arabian tales, and vainly hope 
 To rival St. John, and his scholar Pope : 
 Though metaphysicks spread the gloom of night. 
 By reason's star he guides our aching sight ; 
 The bounds of knowledge marks, and points the way 
 To pathless wastes, where wilder'd sages stray ; 
 Where, like a farthing link-boy, Jenyns stands, 
 And the dim torch drops from his feeble hands." ^ 
 
 1 Some time after Dr. Johnson's death, there appeared in the newspapers 
 and magazines an illiberal and petulant attack upon him, in the form of an 
 Epitaph, under the name of Mr. Soame Jenyns, very unworthy of that gentle- 
 man, who had quietly submitted to the critical lash while Johnson lived. It 
 assumed, as characteristicks of him, all the vulgar circumstances of abuse 
 which had circulated amongst the ignorant. It was an unbecoming indulgence 
 of puny resentment, at a time when he himself was at a very advanced age, 
 and had a near prospect of descending to the grave. I was truly sorry for it ; 
 for he was then become an avowed, and (as iny Lord Bishop of London, who 
 had a serious conversation with him on the subject, assures me) a sincere 
 Christian. He could not expect that Johnson's numerous friends would 
 patiently bear to have the memory of their master stigmatized by no mean 
 pen, but that, at least, one would be found to retort. Accordingly, this 
 unjust and sarcastick Epitaph was met in the same publick field by an 
 answer, in terms by no means soft, and such as wanton provocation only 
 could justify : 
 
 " EPITAPH, 
 
 "^ Prepared for a creature not quite dead^;/^/. 
 
 " Here lies a little ugly nauseous elf, 
 Who judging only from his wretched self,
 
 Age 47-] SOAME JENYNS— THE GAME OF DRAUGHTS. 237 
 
 This year Mr. William Payne, brother of the respectable 
 bookseller of that name, published " An Introduction to the 
 Game of Draughts," to which Johnson contributed a Dedication 
 to the Earl of Rochford,* and a Preface,* both of which are 
 admirably adapted to the treatise to which they are prefixed. 
 Johnson, I believe, did not play at draughts after leaving 
 College, by which he suffered ; for it would have afforded him 
 an, innocent soothing relief from the melancholy which dis- 
 tressed him so often. I have heard him regret that he had not 
 learnt to play at cards ; and the game at draughts we know is 
 peculiarly calculated to fix the attention without straining it. 
 There is a composure and gravity in draughts which insensibly 
 tranquillises the mind ; and, accordingly, the Dutch are fond 
 of it, as they are of smoaking, of the sedative influence of 
 which, though he himself never smoaked, he had a high 
 opinion. 1 Besides, there is in draughts some exercise of the 
 faculties ; and, accordingly, Johnson, wishing to dignify the 
 subject in his Dedication with what is most estimable in 
 it, observes, " Triflers may find or make any thing a trifle ; 
 but since it is the great characteristick of a wise man to 
 see events in their causes, to obviate consequences, and 
 ascertain contingencies, your Lordship will think nothing a 
 trifle by which the mind is inured to caution, foresight, and 
 circumspection." 
 
 As one of the little occasional advantages which he did not 
 disdain to take by his pen, as a man whose profession was 
 literature, he this year accepted of a guinea from Mr. Robert 
 Dodsley, for writing the introduction to " The London 
 Chronicle," an evening newspaper ; and even in so slight a 
 
 Feebly attempted, petulant and vain, 
 
 The ' Origin of Evil' to explain. 
 
 A mighty Genius at this elf displeas'd, 
 
 With a strong critick grasp the urchin squeez'd. 
 
 For thirty years its coward spleen it kept. 
 
 Till in the dust the mighty Genius slept : 
 
 Then stunk and fretted in expiring snuff. 
 
 And blink' d at Johnson with its last poor puff." 
 
 ^ Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit. p. 48.
 
 238 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1756. 
 
 performance exhibited peculiar talents.^ This Chronicle still 
 subsists, and from what I observed, when I was abroad, has 
 a more extensive circulation upon the Continent than any 
 of the English news-papers. It was constantly read by 
 Johnson himself; and it is but just to observe, that it has all 
 along been distinguished for good sense, accuracy, moderation, 
 and delicacy. 
 
 Another instance of the same nature has been communicated 
 to me by the Reverend Dr. Thomas Campbell, who has done 
 himself considerable credit by his own writings. " Sitting with 
 Dr. Johnson one morning alone, he asked me if I had known 
 Dr. Madden, who was authour of the premium-scheme 2 in 
 Ireland. On my answering in the affirmative, and also that 
 I had for some years lived in his neighbourhood, &c., he begged 
 of me that when I returned to Ireland, I would endeavour to 
 procure for him a poem of Dr. Madden's, called ' Boulter's 
 Monument.' 3 The reason (said he) why I wish for it, is this : 
 when Dr. Madden came to London, he submitted that work to 
 my castigation ; and I remember I blotted a great many lines, 
 and might have blotted many more without making the poem 
 worse.^ However, the Doctor was very thankful, and very 
 
 1 {^The London Chronicle, or Universal Evening Post, was published three 
 times a week. The first number, containing Johnson's introduction, 
 appeared Jan. i. 1757. Mr. Boswell often wrote in this journal.— Croker.] 
 
 - [In the College of Dublin, four quarterly Examinations of the students are 
 held in each year, in various prescribed branches of literature and science ; 
 and premiums, consisting of books impressed with the College Arms, are 
 adjudged by Examiners (composed generally of the Junior Fellows), to those 
 who ha.ve most distinguished themselves in the several classes, after a very 
 rigid trial, which lasts two days. This regulation, which has subsisted about 
 seventy years, has been attended with the most beneficial effects. 
 
 Dr. Samuel Madden was the first proposer of premiums in that University. 
 They were instituted about the year 1734, He was also one of the founders 
 of the Dublin Society for the encouragement of arts and agriculture. In 
 addition to the premiums which were and are still annually given by that 
 society for this purpose, Dr. Madden gave others from his own fund. Hence 
 he was usually called " Premium Madden." — Malone.] 
 
 3 Dr. Hugh Boulter, Archbishop of Armagh, and Primate of Ireland. He 
 died Sept. 27, 1742, at which time he was, for the thirteenth time, one of the 
 Lords Justices of that kingdom. Johnson speaks of him in high terms of 
 commendation, in his Life of Ambrose Philips. 
 
 ■> [Dr. Madden wrote very bad verses. V. those prefixed to Leland's 
 Life of Philip of Macedon, 4to. 1758. — Kearney.]
 
 Age 47-] PROPOSALS FOR HIS SHAKESPEARE. 239 
 
 o-enerous, for he gave me ten guineas, which was to me at that 
 time a great sum." ^ 
 
 He this year resumed his scheme of giving an edition of 
 Shakspeare with notes. He issued Proposals of considerable 
 length,^ in which he shewed that he perfectly well knew what a 
 variety of research such an undertaking required ; but his in- 
 dolence prevented him from pursuing it with that diligence 
 which alone can collect those scattered facts, that genius, how- 
 ever acute, penetrating, and luminous, cannot discover by its 
 own force. It is remarkable, that at this time his fancied 
 activity was for the moment so vigorous, that he promised his 
 work should be published before Christmas, 1757. Yet nine 
 years elapsed before it saw the light. His throes in bringing it 
 forth had been severe and remittent ; and at last we may almost 
 conclude that the Csesarean operation was performed by the 
 knife of Churchill, whose upbraiding satire, I dare say, made 
 Johnson's friends urge him to despatch. 
 
 " He for subscribers baits his hook, 
 And takes your cash ; but where' s the book ? 
 No matter where ; wise fear, you know, 
 Forbids the robbing of a foe ; 
 But what, to serve our private ends. 
 Forbids the cheating of our friends .'* " 
 
 About this period he was offered a living of considerable 
 value in Lincolnshire,^ if he were inclined to enter into holy 
 orders. It was a rectory in the gift of Mr. Langton, the father 
 
 ^ [" Such casual emoluments as these, Johnson frequently derived from his 
 profession of an author. . . . About this time, as it is supposed, he, for sundry 
 beneficed clergymen that requested him, composed pulpit discourses, and for 
 these, he made no scruple of confessing, he was paid : his price, I am in- 
 formed, was a moderate one, two guineas ; and such was his notion of 
 justice, that having been paid, he considered them so absolutely the property 
 of the purchaser, as to renounce all claim to them. He reckoned that he 
 had written about forty sermons ; but, except as to some, knew not in what 
 hands they were. ' I have,' said he, 'been paid for them, and have no right 
 to inquire about them.'" — SiR JOHN HAWKINS'S Life 0/ Johnson, \)^. 391, 392. 
 Sir John adds in a note that he himself heard a sermon in St. Margaret's, 
 Westminster, which he judged to be Johnson's. Johnson was present, and 
 Hawkins told him it was he who preached. This Johnson did not deny.] 
 
 ^ They have been reprinted by Mr. Malone, in the preface to his edition 
 of Shakspeare. 
 
 ^ [Langton, near Partney. — Croker.]
 
 Uo 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1757. 
 
 of his much-valued friend. But he did not accept of it ; partly I 
 believe from a conscientious motive, being persuaded that his 
 temper and habits rendered him unfit for that assiduous and 
 familiar instruction of the vulgar and ignorant, which he held 
 to be an essential duty in a clergyman ; and partly because his 
 love of a London life was so strong, that he would have thought 
 himself an exile in any other place, particularly if residing in 
 the country.^ Whoever would wish to see his thoughts upon 
 that subject displayed in their full force, may peruse the 
 Adventurer, Number 126. 
 
 In 1757 it does not appear that he published anything, except 
 some of those articles in the Literary Magazine, which have 
 been mentioned. That magazine, after Johnson ceased to write 
 in it, gradually declined, though the popular epithet of Anti- 
 gallicaji was added to it; and in July, 1758, it expired. He 
 probably prepared a part of his Shakspeare this year, and he 
 dictated a speech on the subject of an address to the Throne, 
 after the expedition to Rochefort, which was delivered by one 
 of his friends, I know not in what publick meeting. It is 
 printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for October 1785 as his, 
 and bears sufficient marks of authenticity. 
 
 By the favour of Mr. Joseph Cooper Walker,^ of the 
 Treasury, Dublin, I have obtained a copy of the following 
 letter from Johnson to the venerable authour of " Dissertations 
 on the History of Ireland." 
 
 1 [Hawkins, who first told this fact on Johnson's own authority, does not 
 mention this latter and lower motive for Johnson's refusal. "It was," he 
 says, "in a pleasant country, and of such yearly value, as might have tempted 
 one in better circumstances, but he had scruples about the duties of the 
 ministerial functions.'' " I have not," Johnson said, "the requisites for the 
 office, and I cannot in conscience shear the flock which I am unable to feed." 
 And Hawkins further informs us that about this period he was in circum- 
 stances more straitened than usual, and even his ordinary relaxation of his 
 club failed him. "About the year 1756, time had produced a change in the 
 situation of many of Johnson's friends, who were used to meet him in Ivy-lane. 
 Death had taken from them M'Ghie ; Barker went to settle as a practising 
 physician at Trowbridge ; Uyer went abroad ; Hawkesworth was busied in 
 forming new connections ; and I had lately made one that removed from me 
 all temptations to pass my evenings from home. The consequence was, that 
 our symposium at the King's Head broke up." — Croker.] 
 
 2 [Mr. Walker was a member of the Royal Irish Academy, author of the 
 Historical Memoirs of the IrisJi Bards, an Historical Memoir ofi Italian 
 Tragedy, &c. He died in i8io. — Croker.]
 
 Age 48.] CORRESPONDENCE. 241 
 
 "TO CHARLES O'CONNER, ESQ.* 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " I HAVE lately, by the 'favour of Mr. Faulkner, seen your 
 account of Ireland, and cannot forbear to solicit a prosecution 
 of your design. Sir William Temple complains that Ireland is 
 less known than any other country, as to its ancient state. The 
 natives have but little leisure, and little encouragement for en- 
 quiry ; and strangers, not knowing the language, have had 
 no ability. 
 
 " I have long wished that the Irish literature were cultivated.- 
 Ireland is known by tradition to have been once the seat of 
 piety and learning ; and surely it would be very acceptable to 
 all those who are curious either in the original of nations, or the 
 affinities of languages, to be further informed of the revolution 
 of a people so ancient, and once so illustrious. 
 
 " What relation there is between the W'elsh and Irish 
 language, or between the language of Ireland and that of 
 Biscay, deserves enquiry. Of these provincial and unextended 
 tongues, it seldom happens that more than one are understood 
 by any one man ; and, therefore, it seldom happens that a fair 
 comparison can be made. I hope you v/ill continue to cultivate 
 this kind of learning, which has too long lain neglected, and 
 which, if it be suffered to remain in oblivion for another century, 
 may, perhaps, never be retrieved. As I wish well to all useful 
 undertakings, I would not forbear to let you know how much 
 you deserve in my opinion, from all lovers of study, and how 
 much pleasure your work has given to, Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged, and most humble servant, 
 
 ''■ Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "London, April 9, 1757." 
 
 1 [Of this gentleman, who died at his seat at Ballinegare, in the county of 
 Roscommon, in Ireland, July i, 1791, in his 82d year, some account may be 
 found in the Gentleman's Magazine of that date. Of the -work here alluded 
 to by Dr. Johnson — "Dissertations on the History of Ireland" — a second 
 and much improved edition was published by the authour in 1766. — 
 
 M ALONE.] 
 
 2 The celebrated oratour, Mr. Flood, has shewn himself to be of Dr. 
 Johnson's opinion ; having by his will bequeathed his estate, after the death 
 of his wife. Lady Frances, to the University of Dublin; "desiring that 
 immediately after the said estate shall come into their possession, they shall 
 appoint two professors, one for the study of the native Erse or Irish 
 language, and the other for the study of Irish antiquities and Irish history, 
 and for the study of any other European language illustrative of, or auxiliary 
 to, the study of Irish antiquities or Irish history : and that they shall give 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1757. 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " Dr. Marsili, of Padua, a learned gentleman, and good 
 Latin poet, has a mind to see Oxford. I have given him a 
 letter to Dr. Huddcsford,i and shall be glad if you will intro- 
 duce him, and shew him any thing in Oxford. 
 " I am printing my new edition of Shakspeare. 
 " I long to see you all, but cannot conveniently come yet. 
 You might write to me now and then, if you were good for any 
 thing. But Jwnorcs viutani mores? Professors forget their 
 fiien'ds. I shall certainly complain to Miss Jones.^ 
 
 " I am, yours, &c., 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "Please to make my compliments to Mr. Wise. 
 "[London.] June 21, 1757-'' 
 
 Mr. Burney having enclosed to him an extract from the 
 review of his Dictionary in the BibliotJicque des Savaiis^ and a 
 list of subscribers to his Shakspeare, which Mr. Burney had 
 procured in Norfolk, he wrote the following answer: — 
 
 "TO MR. BURNEY, IN LYNNE, NORFOLK. 
 "STR, 
 
 " That I may shew myself sensible of your favours, and not 
 commit the same' fault a second time, I make haste to answer 
 the letter which I received this morning. The truth is, the 
 
 yearly two liberal premiums for two compositions, one in verse, and the other 
 in prose, in the Irish language." 
 
 [Since the above was written, Mr. Flood's Will has besn set aside, after a 
 trial at bar, in the Court of Exchequer in Ireland.— Malone.] 
 
 > [Now, or late, Vice-Chancellor.— \Varton.] 
 
 2 [Mr. Warton was elected Professor of Poetry at Oxford in the preceding 
 year. — Warton.] 
 
 3 [Miss Jones lived at Oxford, and was often of our parties. She was a 
 very ingenious poetess, and published a volume of poems ; and, on the whole. 
 was a most sensible, agreeable, and amiable woman. She was sister to 
 the Reverend River Jones, Chanter of Christ-Church cathedral, Oxford, and 
 lohnson used to call her the Chantrcss. I have heard him often address her 
 in this passage from " iL Penseroso" : 
 
 "Thee, Chantress, oft the woods among 
 I woo," &c. 
 She died unmarried.— AVarton.] 
 ■* Tome iii. p. 4S2.
 
 Age 48.] LETTERS TO WARTON AND BURNEY. 243 
 
 other likewise was received, and I wrote an answer ; but being 
 desirous to transmit you some proposals and receipts, I waited 
 till I could find a convenient conveyance, and day was passed 
 after day, till other things drove it from my thoughts ; yet not 
 so, but that I remember with great pleasure your commendation 
 of my Dictionary. Your praise was welcome, not only because 
 I believe it was sincere, but because praise has been very scarce. 
 A man of your candour will be surprised when I tell you, that 
 among all my acquaintance there were only two, who, upon the 
 publication of my book, did not endeavour to depress me with 
 threats of censure from the publick, or with objections learned 
 from those who had learned them from my own preface. Yours 
 is the only letter of good-will that I have received ; though, 
 indeed, I am promised something of that sort from Sweden. 
 
 " How my new edition ^ will be received I know not ; the 
 subscription has not been very successful. I shall publish 
 about March. 
 
 "If you can direct me how to send proposals, I should wish 
 that they were in such hands. 
 
 " I remember. Sir, in some of the first letters with which you 
 favoured me, you mentioned your lady. May I enquire after 
 her .-• In return for the favours which you have shewn me, it 
 is not much to tell you, that I wish you and her all that can 
 conduce to your happiness. I am. Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged, and most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " Gough-square, Dec. 24, 1757." 
 
 In 1758 we find him, it should seem, in as easy and pleasant a 
 state of existence, as constitutional unhappiness ever permitted 
 him to enjoy. 
 
 "TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, LINCOLNSHIRE. 
 
 " DEAREST SIR, 
 
 " I must have indeed slept very fast not to have been 
 awakened by your letter. None of your suspicions are true ; 
 I am not much richer than when you left me ; and, what is 
 worse, my omission of an answer to your first letter, will prove 
 that I am not much wiser. But I go on as I formerly did, 
 designing to be some time or other both rich and wise ; and yet 
 cultivate neither mind nor fortune. Do you take notice of my 
 example, and learn the danger of delay. When I was as you 
 
 ^ Of Shakspeare. 
 
 R 2
 
 244 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1758. 
 
 arc now, towering in confidence of twenty-one, little did I 
 suspect that I should be at forty-nine what I now am. 
 
 " But you do not seem to need my admonition. You are 
 busy in acquiring and in communicating knowledge, and while 
 you are studying, enjoy the end of study, by making others 
 wiser and happier. I was much pleased with the tale that you 
 told me of being tutour to your sisters. I, who have no sisters 
 nor brothers, look Avith some degree of innocent envy on those 
 who may be said to be born to friends ; and cannot see, without 
 wonder, how rarely that native union is afterwards regarded. It 
 sometimes, indeed, happens, that some supervenient cause of 
 discord may overpower this original amity ; but it seems to me 
 more frequently thrown away with levity, or lost by negligence, 
 than destroyed by injury or violence. We tell the ladies that 
 good wives make good husbands ; I believe it is a more certain 
 position that good brothers make good sisters. 
 
 " I am satisfied with your stay at home, as Juvenal with his 
 friend's retirement to Cum.Te : I know that your absence is best, 
 though it be not best for me. 
 
 *!=>' 
 
 ' Quamvis dii^rcssu rietcris coiifustis amtci, 
 Laitdo tafniH vaaiis quod sedon Jigere Cujnis 
 Dcstinct, atque unum civem donare Sibylla^ ' 
 
 " Langton is a good Cumcr, but who must be Sibylla } 
 IVIrs. Langton is as wise as Sibyl, and as good ; and will live, if 
 my wishes can prolong life, till she shall in time be as old. But 
 she differs in this, that she has not scattered her precepts in the 
 wind, at least not those which she bestowed upon you. 
 
 "The two Wartons just looked into the town, and were taken 
 to see Clcone, where David ^ says, they were starved for want of 
 company to keep them warm. David and Doddy ^ have had a 
 new quarrel, and, I think, cannot conveniently quarrel any more. 
 * Cleone'" was well acted by all the characters, but Bellamy left 
 nothing to be desired. I went the first night, and supported 
 it as well as I might ; for Doddy, you know, is my patron, 
 and I would not desert him. The play was very well received. 
 
 1 " Grieved though I am to see the man depart, 
 
 Who long has shared, and still must share my heart, 
 
 Yet (when I call my better judgment home) 
 
 I praise his purpose ; to retire from Rome, 
 
 And give on Cuniit's solitary coast. 
 
 The Sibyl— one inhabitant to boast ! "— GiFFORD. 
 
 - Mr. Garrick. 
 
 ^ Mr. Dodsley, the aulhour of Cleone.
 
 Age 49] LETTERS TO LANGTON AND BURNEY. 245 
 
 Doddy, after the danger was over, went every night to the 
 stage-side, and cryed at the distress of poor Cleone. 
 
 " I have left off housekeeping, and therefore make presents of 
 the game which you were pleased to send me. The pheasant I 
 gave to Mr. Richardson,^ the bustard to Dr. Lawrence, and the 
 pot I placed with Miss Williams, to be eaten by myself. She 
 desires that her compliments and good wishes may be accepted 
 by the family ; and I make the same request for myself. 
 
 "Mr. Reynolds has within these {^\v days raised his price to 
 twenty guineas a head, and Miss is much employed in miniatures. 
 I know not anybody [else] whose prosperity has increased since 
 you left them. 
 
 " Murphy is to have his ' Orphan of China ' acted next month ; 
 and is therefore, I suppose, happy. I wish I could tell you of 
 any great good to which I was approaching, but at present 
 my prospects do not much delight me ; however, I am always 
 pleased when I find that you, dear Sir, remember 
 
 "Your affectionate, humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. John.son. 
 
 "Jan. 9, I758."2 
 
 "TO MR. BURNEY, AT LYNNE, NORFOLK. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 "Your kindness is so great, and my claim to any particular 
 regard from you so little, that I am at a loss how to express my 
 sense of your favours;^ but I am, indeed, much pleased to be 
 thus distinguished by you. 
 
 " I am ashamed to tell you that my Shakspeare will not be 
 out so soon as I promised my subscribers ; but I did not pro- 
 mise them more than I promised myself. It will, however, be 
 published before summer. 
 
 " I have sent you a bundle of proposals, which, I think, do not 
 profess more than I have hitherto performed. I have printed 
 many of the plays, and have hitherto left very {q.\'^ passages 
 unexplained ; where I am quite at loss, I confess my ignorance, 
 which is seldom done by commentators. 
 
 " I have likewise enclosed twelve receipts ; not that I mean to 
 impose upon you the trouble of pushing them with more im- 
 portunity than may seem proper, but that you may rather have 
 more than fewer than you will want. The proposals you will 
 
 ^ Mr. Samuel Richardson, aulhour of Clarissa. 
 
 2 [Mr. Croker, from internal evidence, changed the date of this letter to 
 Jan. 9, 1759, and placed it later in the volume.] 
 
 "^ This letter was an a .swer to one, in which was enclosed a draft for the 
 payment of some subscriptions to his Shakspeare.
 
 246 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSOX. [1758. 
 
 disseminate as there shall be an opportunity. I once printed 
 them at length in the Chronicle, and some of my friends (I 
 believe Mr. Murphy, who formerly wrote the Gray's-Inn Journal,) 
 introduced them with a splendid encomium. 
 
 " Since the Life of Browne, I have been a little engaged, from 
 time to time in the Literary Magazine, but not very lately. 
 I have not the collection by me, and therefore cannot draw out 
 a catalogue of my own parts, but will do it, and send it. Do 
 not buy them, for I will gather all those that have any thing of 
 mine in them, and send them to Mrs. Burney, as a small token of 
 gratitude for the regard which she is pleased to bestow upon me. 
 " I am, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " London, March 8, 1758." 
 
 Dr. Burney has kindly favoured me with the following 
 memorandum, which I take the liberty to insert in his own 
 genuine easy style. I love to exhibit sketches of my illustrious 
 friend by various eminent hands. 
 
 " Soon after this, Mr, Burney, during a visit to the capital, had 
 an interview with him in Gough-squate, where he dined and 
 drank tea with him, and was introduced to the acquaintance of 
 Mrs. Williams. After dinner, Mr. Johnson proposed to Mr. 
 Burney to go up with him to his garret, which being accepted, 
 he there found about five or six Greek folios, a deal writing- 
 desk, and a chair and a half. Johnson giving to his guest the 
 entire seat tottered himself on one with only three legs and one 
 arm. Here he gave Mr. Burney Mrs. Williams's history, and 
 showed him some volumes of his Shakspeare already printed, 
 to prove that he was in earnest. Upon Mr. Burney's opening 
 the first volume, at the Merchant of Venice, he observed to him, 
 that he seemed to be more severe on Warburton than Theobald. 
 ' O poor Tib ! (said Johnson,) he was ready knocked down to my 
 hands ; Warburton stands between me and him.' ' But, Sir, 
 (said Mr. Burney,) you'll have Warburton upon your bones, 
 won't you.^' 'No, Sir; he'll not come out : he'll only growl in 
 his den.' ' But you think. Sir, that Warburton is a superiour 
 critick to Theobald.!"' — 'O Sir, he'd make two-and-fifty 
 Theobalds, cut into slices ! The worst of Warburton is, that 
 he has a rage for saying something, when there's nothing to be
 
 Age 49.] AT WORK ON SHAKESPEARE—'' THE IDLER." 247 
 
 said.' — Mr. Burney then asked him whether he had seen the 
 letter which Warburton had written in answer to a pamphlet 
 addressed, * To the most impudent Man alive.' He answered in 
 the negative. Mr. Burney told him it was supposed to be 
 written by Mallet. The controversy now raged between the 
 friends of Pope and Bolingbroke ; and Warburton and Mallet 
 were the leaders of the several parties. Mr. Burney asked him 
 then if he had seen Warburton's book against Bolingbroke's 
 Philosophy .-• ' No, Sir ; I have never read Bolingbroke's impiety, 
 and therefore am not interested about its confutation.' " 
 
 On the fifteenth of April he began a new periodical paper, 
 entitled "The Idler,"* which came out every Saturday in a 
 weekly newspaper, called " The Universal Chronicle, or Weekl}- 
 Gazette," published by Newbery.^ These essays were continued 
 till April 5, 1760. Of one hundred and three, their total 
 number, twelve were contributed by his friends ; of which, 
 Numbers 33, 93, and 96, were written by Mr. Thomas Warton ; 
 No. 67 by Mr. Langton ; and Nos. yG, 79, and ^2, by Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds ; the concluding words of No. 82, " and pollute 
 his canvas with deformity," being added by Johnson ; as Sir 
 Joshua informed me. 
 
 The Idler is evidently the work of the same mind which 
 produced the Rambler, but has less body and more spirit. It 
 has more variety of real life, and greater facility of language. 
 He describes the miseries of idleness, with the lively sensations 
 of one who has felt them ; and in his private memorandums 
 while engaged in it, we find, " This year I hope to learn dili- 
 gence." ^ Many of these excellent essays were written as hastily 
 
 1 [This is a slight mistake. The first number of the " Idler" appeared on 
 the 15th of April, 1758, in No. 2 of the Universal Chronicle, &c., which was 
 published by J. Payne, for whom also the Rambler had been printed. On 
 the 29ih of April this newspaper assumed the title of Payne's Universal 
 Chronicle, &c. — Malone.] 
 
 2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 30. [Of this period of his life, Hawkins 
 says, " The profits accruing from the sale of this paper, and the subscriptions 
 which, from the year 1756, he was receiving for the edition of Shakspeare by 
 him proposed, were the only known means of his subsistence for a period of 
 near four years, and we may suppose them hardly adequate to his wants, for, 
 upon finding the balance of the account for the Dictionary against him, he 
 quitted his house in Gough Square, and took chambers in Gray's Inn ; and 
 Mr3. Williams, upon this removal, fixed herself in lodgings at a boarding-
 
 24S 
 
 BOSVVELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [175S. 
 
 \ 
 
 as an ordinary letter. Mr. Langton remembers Johnson when 
 on a visit at Oxford, asking him one evening how long it was 
 till the post went out ; and on being told about half an hour, he 
 exclaimed, " Then wc shall do very well." He upon this in- 
 stantly sat down and finished an Idler which it was necessary 
 should be in London the next day. Mr. Langton having 
 signified a wish to read it, " Sir (said he), you shall not do 
 more than I have done myself." He then folded it up, and 
 sent it off. 
 
 Yet there are in the Idler several papers which shew as much 
 profundity of thought, and labour of language, as any of this 
 great man's writings. No. 14, "Robbery of time;" No. 24, 
 "Thinking;" No. 41, "Death of a friend ;" No. 43, "Flight of 
 time;" No. 51, " Domestick greatness unattainable;" No. 52, 
 "Self-denial;" No. 58, "Actual, how short of fancied, ex- 
 cellence ; " No. 89, " Physical evil moral good ; " and his 
 concluding paper on " The horrour of the last," will prove this 
 assertion. I know not why a motto, the usual trapping of 
 periodical papers, is prefixed to very few of the Idlers, as I 
 have heard Johnson commend the custom ; and he never could 
 be at a loss for one, his memory being stored with innumerable 
 passages of the classicks. In this series of essays he exhibits 
 admirable instances of grave humour, of which he had an 
 uncommon share. Nor on some occasions has he repressed that 
 power of sophistry which he possessed in so eminent a degree. 
 In No. II, he treats with the utmost contempt the opinion that 
 our mental faculties depend, in some degree, upon the weather ; 
 an opinion, which they who have never experienced its truth are* 
 not to be envied, and of which he himself could not but be 
 
 school, in the neighbourhood of their former dwelling." And Mr. Murphy 
 tells us, that " he retired to Gray's Inn, and soon removed to chambers in 
 the Inner Temple Lane, Mhere he lived in poverty, total idleness, and the 
 pride of literature. Mr. Fitzherbert (the father of Lord St. Helen's), a man 
 distinguished through life for his benevolence and other amiable qualities, 
 used to say, that he paid a morning visit to Johnson, intending from his 
 chambers to send a letter into the city ; but, to his great surprise, he found 
 an author by profession without pen, ink, or paper. The present Bishop of 
 Salisbury [Douglas] was also among those who endeavoured by constant 
 attention, to soothe the cares of a mind which he knew to be afflicted with 
 gloomy apprehensions." — Croker.]
 
 AGE 49.] " THE idler:' 249 
 
 sensible, as the effects of weather upon him were very visible. 
 Yet thus he declaims : 
 
 " Surely nothing is more reproachful to a being endowed with 
 reason, than to resign its powers to the influence of the air, and 
 live in dependence on the weather and the wind for the only 
 blessings which nature has put into our power, tranquillity and 
 benevolence. — This distinction of seasons is produced only by 
 imagination operating on luxury. To temperance, every day is 
 bright ; and every hour is propitious to diligence. He that 
 shall resolutely excite his faculties or exert his virtues, will soon 
 make himself superiour to the seasons ; and may set at defiance 
 the morning mist and the evening damp, the blasts of the east, 
 and the clouds of the south." 
 
 Alas ! it is too certain, that where the frame has delicate 
 fibres, and there is a fine sensibility, such influences of the air 
 are irresistible. He might as well have bid defiance to the ague, 
 the palsy, and all other bodily disorders. Such boasting of the 
 mind is false elevation. 
 
 " I think the Romans call it Stoicism." 
 
 But in this number of his Idler his spirits seem to run riot ; for 
 in the wantonness of his disquisition he forgets, for a moment, 
 even the reverence for that which he held in high respect, and 
 describes, "the attendant on a Court," as one "whose business is 
 to watch the looks of a being, weak and foolish as himself." 
 
 His unqualified ridicule of rhetorical gesture or action is not, 
 surely, a test of truth ; yet we cannot help admiring how well it 
 is adapted to produce the effect which he wished. 
 
 "Neither the judges of our laws, nor the representatives of 
 our people, would be much affected by laboured gesticulations, 
 or believe any man the more because he rolled his eyes, or 
 puffed his cheeks, or spread abroad his arms, or stamped the 
 ground, or thumped his breast ; or turned his eyes sometimes to 
 the ceiling, and sometimes to the floor." 
 
 A casual coincidence with other writers, or an adoption of 
 a sentiment or image which has been found in the writings of 
 another, and afterwards appears in the mind as one's own, is not
 
 250 
 
 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSOX. 
 
 L175S 
 
 unfrequent. The richness of Johnson's fancy, which could 
 supply his page abundantly on all occasions, and the strength 
 of his memory, which at once detected the real owner of any 
 thought, made him less liable to the imputation of plagiarism 
 than, perhaps, any of our writers. In the Idler, however, there 
 is a paper, in which conversation is assimilated to a bowl of 
 punch, where there is the same train of comparison as in a 
 poem by Blacklock, in his collection published in 1756; in 
 which a parallel is ingeniously drawn between human life and 
 that liquor. It ends, 
 
 " Say, then, physicians of each kind. 
 Who cure the body or the mind, 
 What harm in drinking can there be, 
 Since punch and life so well agree ? " 
 
 To the Idler, when collected in volumes,^ he added, beside 
 the Essay on Epitaphs, and the Dissertation on those of Pope, 
 an Essay on the Bravery of the English Common Soldiers. 
 He, however, omitted one of the original papers, which in the 
 folio copy is No. 22r 
 
 "TO THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " Your notes upon my poet were very acceptable. I beg 
 that you will be so kind as to continue your searches. It will 
 be reputable to my work, and suitable to your professorship, to 
 have something of yours in the notes. As you have given no 
 directions about your name, I shall therefore put it. I wish 
 your brother would take the same trouble. A commentary 
 must arise from the fortuitous discoveries of many men in 
 devious walks of literature. Some of your remarks are on plays 
 already printed : but I purpose to add an Appendix of Notes, 
 so that nothing comes too late. 
 
 1 [From Newbury's accounts, examined by Mr. Prior when writing his Life 
 of Goldsmith, it appears that the profit upon 1500 copies printed of "The 
 Idler" in two vols, was 126/. 3^. 6d. of which Johnson received two thirds 
 (84/. 2S. 4^/).] 
 
 ^ This paper may be found in Stockdale's supplemental volume of Johnson's 
 Miscellaneous Pieces. [Johnson wrote in this paper, political remarks on 
 passing events. A specimen may be seen in Gent. Mag. vol. xxviii. — 
 Chalmers.]
 
 Age 49] LETTERS TO THOMAS WART OX. 251 
 
 'You give yourself too much uneasiness, dear Sir, about the 
 loss of the papers.^ The loss is nothing, if nobody has found 
 them ; nor even then, perhaps, if the numbers be known. You are 
 not the only friend that has had the same mischance. You may 
 repair your want out of a stock, which is deposited with Mr. 
 Allen, of Magdalen-Hall ; or out of a parcel which I have just 
 sent to Mr. Chambers,'^ for the use of any body that will be 
 so kind as to want them. The Langtons are well ; and Miss 
 Roberts, whom I have at last brought to speak, upon the 
 information which you gave me, that she had something 
 
 to say. 
 
 *' I am, &c. 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 '•[London] April 14, 1758." 
 
 TO THE SAMF. 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 "You will receive this by Mr. Baretti, a gentleman par- 
 ticularly intitled to the notice and kindness of the Professor of 
 poesy. He has time but for a short stay, and will be glad to 
 have it filled up with as much as he can hear and see, 
 
 " In recommending another to your favour, I ought not to 
 omit thanks for the kindness which you have shown to myself. 
 Have you any more notes on Shakspeare } I shall be glad 
 of them. 
 
 " I see your pupil sometimes ; ^ his mind is as exalted as his 
 stature. I am half afraid of him ; but he is no less amiable 
 than formidable. He will, if the forwardness of his spring be 
 not blasted, be a credit to you, and to the University. He 
 brings some of my plays* with him, which he has my per- 
 mission to shew you, on condition you will hide them from 
 every body else. 
 
 ■' I am, dear Sir, &c. 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " [London] June i, 1758." 
 
 1 [Receipts for Shakspeare. — Warton.] 
 
 2 [Then of Lincoln College. Now Sir Robert Chambers, one of the 
 Judges in India. — Warton.] [He returned to England in 1799, and died 
 May 9, 1803. — Chalmers.] 
 
 3 [Mr. Lan^ton. — Wartox.] 
 
 * [Part of the impression of the Shakspeare, which Dr. Jolmson conducted 
 alone, and published by subscription. This edition came out in 1765. — 
 Warton.]
 
 252 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1758. 
 
 "TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., OF TRINITY COLLEGE, OXFORD- 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " Though I might have expected to hear from you, upon 
 your entrance into a new state of life at a new place, yet 
 recollecting (not without some degree of shame) that I owe you 
 a letter upon an old account, I think it my part to write first. 
 This, indeed, I do not only for complaisance, but from interest ; 
 for living on in the old way, I am very glad of a correspondent 
 so capable as yourself, to diversify the hours. You have, at 
 present, too many novelties about you to need any help from me 
 to drive along your time. 
 
 " I know not any thing more pleasant, or more instructive, 
 than to compare experience with expectation, or to register from 
 time to time the difference between idea and reality. It is by 
 this kind of observation that we grow daily less liable to be 
 disappointed. You, who are very capable of anticipating 
 futurity, and raising phantoms before your own eyes, must often 
 have imagined to yourself an academical life, and have con- 
 ceived what would be the manners, the views, and the conversa- 
 tion, of men devoted to letters ; how they would choose their 
 companions, how they would direct their studies, and how they 
 would regulate their lives. Let me know what you expected, 
 and what you have found. At least record it to yourself before 
 custom has reconciled you to the scenes before you, and the 
 disparity of your discoveries to your hopes has vanished from 
 your mind. It is a rule never to be forgotten, that whatever 
 strikes strongly, should be described while the first impression 
 remains fresh upon the mind. 
 
 " I love, dear Sir, to think on you, and therefore, should 
 willingly write more to you, but that the post will not now give 
 me leave to do more than send my compliments to Mr. Warton, 
 and tell you that I am, dear Sir, most affectionately, 
 
 " Your very humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "June 28,' 1758.'' 
 
 "TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY, 
 
 LINCOLNSHIRE. 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I SHOULD be sorry to think that what engrosses the 
 attention of my friend should have no part of mine. Your mind 
 
 ^ [Croker corrected this date to Jan. 28 ; as Langton, having entered 
 Trinity College, Oxford, in July 1757, must have gone into residence in or 
 after October.]
 
 Age 49] LETTERS TO BENNET LANGTON. 253 
 
 is now full of the fate of Dury ; ' but his fate is past, and nothing 
 remains but to try what reflection will su:^gest to mitigate the 
 terrours of a violent death, which is more formidable, at the first 
 glance, than on a nearer and more steady view. A violent 
 death is never very painful ; the only danger is, lest it should 
 be unprovided. But if a man can be supposed to make no 
 provision for death in war, what can be the state that would 
 have awakened him to the care of futurity } When would that 
 man have prepared himself to die, who went to seek death with- 
 out preparation } What then can be the reason why we lament 
 more him that dies of a wound, than him that dies of a fever ? 
 A man that languishes with disease, ends his life with more 
 pain, but with less virtue : he leaves no example to his friends, 
 nor bequeaths any honour to his descendants. The only reason 
 why we lament a soldier's death, is, that we think he might have 
 lived longer ; yet this cause of grief is common to many other 
 kinds of death, which are not so passionately bewailed. The 
 truth is, that every death is violent which is the effect of 
 accident ; every death, which is not gradually brought on by 
 the miseries of age, or when life is extinguished for any other 
 reason than that it is burnt out. He that dies before sixty, of a 
 cold or consumption, dies, in reality, by a violent death ; yet his 
 death is borne with patience, only because the cause of his 
 untimely end is silent and invisible. Let us endeavour to see 
 things as they arc, and then enquire whether we ought to 
 complain. Whether to see life as it is, will give us much 
 consolation, I know not ; but the consolation which is drawn 
 from truth, if any there be, is solid and durable : that which 
 may be derived from errour, must be, like its original, fallacious 
 and fugitive. 
 
 " I am, dear, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble servant, 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 "Sept. 21, 1758." 
 
 In 1759, in the month of January, his mother died at the 
 great age of ninety, an event which deeply affected him ; not 
 that " his mind had acquired no firmness by the contemplation 
 of mortality," ^ but that his reverential affection for her was not 
 
 ^ Major-General Alexander Uury, of the first regiment of foot-guards, ^yho 
 fell in the gallant discharge of his duty, near St. Cas, in the well-known 
 unfortunate expedition against France, in 1758. His lady and Mr. Langton's 
 mother were sisters. He left an only son, Lieutenant-Colonel Dury, who has 
 a company in the same regiment. 
 
 ■■^ Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 395.
 
 254 ■ BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1759. 
 
 abated by years, as indeed he retained all his tender feeling, 
 even to the latest period of his life. I have been told, that he 
 regretted much his not having gone to visit his mother for 
 several years previous to her death. But he was constantly 
 engaged in literary labours, which confined him to London ; and 
 though he had not the comfort of seeing his aged parent, he 
 contributed liberally to her support. 
 
 "TO MRS. JOHNSON, IN LICHFIELD.^ 
 
 "HONOURED MADAM, 
 
 "The account which Miss [Porter] gives me of your 
 health, pierces my heart. God comfort and preserve you and 
 save you, for the sake of Jesus Christ. 
 
 " I would have Miss read to you from time to time the 
 Passion of our Saviour, and sometimes the sentences in the 
 Communion Service, beginning, — Come unto Jiie, all yc that travail 
 and are heavy laden, and I zvill give you rest. 
 
 " I have just been reading a physical book, which inclines me 
 to think that a strong infus'on of the bark would do you good. 
 Do, dear mother, try it. 
 
 " Pray, send me your blessing, and forgive all that I have 
 done amiss to you. And whatever you would have done, 
 and what debts you would have paid first, or any thing else 
 that you would direct, let Miss put it down ; I shall endeavour 
 to obey you. 
 
 " I have got twelve guineas" to send you, but unhappily am 
 at a loss how to send it to-night. If I cannot send it to-night, 
 it will come by the next post. 
 
 " Pray, do not omit any thing mentioned in this letter. GoD 
 bless you f jr ever and ever. I am, 
 
 "Your dutiful Son, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "Jan. 13, 1758."'^ 
 
 1 [Since t'le publicat'.on of t'le third edition of this work, the following 
 letters of Dr. Johnson, occasioned by the last illness of his mother, were 
 obligingly communicated to Mr. Malone by the Rev. Dr. \'yse. They are 
 placed here agreeably to the chronological order almost uniformly observed 
 by the authour ; and so strongly evince Dr. Johnson's piety and tenderness 
 of heart, that every reader must be gratified by their insertion. — Malone.] 
 
 2 [Six of these twelve guineas Johnson appears to have borrowed from 
 ]\Ir. Allen, the Printer. See Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 366 n. — 
 Malone.] 
 
 2 [Written by mistake for 1759, as the subsequent letter-, shew. In the 
 ne.xt letter he had inadvertently fallen into the same crrour, but corrected it.
 
 Age 50.] DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 255 
 
 "TO MISS PORTER, AT MRS. JOHNSON'S, IN LICHFIELD, 
 
 " MY DEAR MISS, 
 
 " I THINK myself obliged to you beyond all expression 
 of gratitude for your care of my dear mother. GOD grant it 
 may not be without success. Tell Kitty,^ that I shall never 
 forget her tenderness for her mistress. Whatever you can do, 
 continue to do. My heart is very full. 
 
 " I hope you received twelve guineas on Monday. I found a 
 way of sending them by means of the Postmaster, after I had 
 written my letter, and hope they came safe. I will send you 
 more in a io.^ days. GOD bless you all. 
 " I am, my dear, 
 
 " Your most obliged and most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " Over the leaf is a letter to my mother. 
 "Jan. 16, 1759." 
 
 "DEAR HONOURED MOTHER, 
 
 "Your weakness afflicts me beyond what I am willing 
 to communicate to you. I do not think you unfit to face 
 death, but I know not how to bear the thought of losing 
 you. Endeavour to do all you [can] for yourself. Eat as 
 much as you can. 
 
 " I pray often for you ; do you pray for me. — I have nothing 
 to add to my last letter. I am, dear, dear Mother, 
 
 " Your dutiful Son, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "Jan. 16, I759-" 
 
 "TO MRS. JOHNSON IN LICHFIELD. 
 
 "DEAR HONOURED MOTHER, 
 
 " I FEAR you are too ill for long letters ; therefore I will 
 only tell you, you have from me all the regard that can possibly 
 subsist in the heart. I pray GOD to bless you for evermore, for 
 Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. 
 
 On the outside of the letter of the ijth was wriiten by another hand — 
 " Pray acknowledge the receipt of this by return of post, Mithout fail." — 
 Malone.] 
 
 ^ [Catharine Chambers, Mrs. Johnson's maid- servant. She died in October, 
 1767. See Dr. Johnson's Praveks AND Meditations, p. 71 : "Sunday, 
 Oct. 18, 1767. Yesterday, Oct. 17, I took my leave for ever of my dear old 
 friend, Catharine Chambers, who came to live with my mother about 1724, 
 and has been but little parted from us since. She buried my father, my 
 brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-eight years old."— Malone.]
 
 2 56 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1759. 
 
 " Let Miss write to me every post, however short. I am, 
 dear Mother, 
 
 " Your dutiful Son, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "Jan 18, 1759." 
 
 "TO MISS PORTER, AT MRS. JOHNSON'S IN LICHFIELD. 
 
 <i 
 
 DEAR MISS, 
 
 " I WILL, if it be possible, come down to you. GOD 
 errant I may yet [find] my dear mother breathing and sensible. 
 Do not tell her, lest I disappoint her. If I miss to write next 
 post, I am on the road. I am, my dearest Miss, 
 
 " Your most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. John.son. 
 
 "Jan. 20, 1759." 
 
 " On ihe other side. 
 " DEAR HONOURED MOTHER,^ 
 
 " Neither your condition nor your character make it fit 
 for me to say much. You have been the best mother, and I 
 believe the best woman in the world. I thank you for your 
 indulgence to me, and beg forgiveness of all that I have done 
 ill, and all that I have omitted to do well.^ GoD grant you 
 his Holy Spirit, and receive you to everlasting happiness, for 
 Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. Lord Jesus receive your spirits 
 Amen. 
 
 " I am, dear, dear Mother, 
 
 " Your dutiful Son, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "Jan. 20, 1759." 
 
 " TO MISS PORTER, IN LICHFIELD. 
 
 " You will conceive my sorrow for the loss of my mother, of 
 the best mother. If she were to live again, surely I should 
 lichave better to her. But she is happy, and what is past is 
 nothing to her ; and for me, since I cannot repair my faults to 
 
 • [This letter was written on the second leaf of the preceding, addressed 
 to Miss Porter. — M ALONE.] 
 
 2 [So, in the Prayer which he composed on this occasion : "Almighty 
 God, merciful Father, in whose hands are life and death, sanctify unto me 
 the sorrow which I now feel. Forgh>e me whatez'er I have done unkindly 
 to my Mother, and ivhatever I have ot7titted to do kindly. Make me to 
 remember her good precepts and good example, and to reform my life 
 according to thy holy word," &;c. — Prayers and Meditations, p. 31. — 
 Malone.]
 
 AGE50.] ''RASSELAS." 257 
 
 her, I hope repentance will efface them. I return you and all 
 those that have been good to her, my sincerest thanks, and pray 
 God to repay you all with infinite advantage. Write to mc, and 
 comfort me, dear child. I shall be glad likewise if Kitty will 
 write to me. I shall send a bill of twenty pounds in a few days 
 Avhich I thought to have brought to my mother ; but GOD 
 suffered it not. I have not power or composure to say much 
 more. GOD bless you, and bless us all. 
 
 " I am, dear Miss, 
 " Your affectionate humble Servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson 
 
 "Jan. 23, 1759."^ 
 
 Soon after this event, he wrote his Rasselas, Prince of 
 Abyssinia,* concerning the publication of which Sir John 
 Hawkins guesses vaguely and idly, instead of having taken the 
 trouble to inform himself with authentick precision. Not to 
 trouble my readers with a repetition of the Knight's reveries, I 
 have to mention, that the late Mr. Strahan, the printer, told 
 me, that Johnson wrote it, that with the profits he might defray 
 the expence of his mother's funeral, and pay some little debts 
 which she had left. He told Sir Joshua Reynolds that he had 
 composed it in the evenings of one week,^ sent it to the press in 
 portions as it was written, and had never since read it over.^ 
 Mr. Strahan, Mr. Johnston, and Mr. Dodsley, purchased it for a 
 hundred pounds, but afterwards paid him twenty-five pounds 
 more when it came to a second edition. 
 
 Considering the large sums which have been received for 
 compilations, and works requiring not much more genius than 
 compilations, we cannot but wonder at the very low price which 
 he was content to receive for this admirable performance ; which, 
 though he had written nothing else, would have rendered his 
 name immortal in the world of literature. None of his writings 
 have been so extensively diffused over Europe ; for it has been 
 translated into most, if not all, of the modern languages. This 
 
 1 [Mrs. Johnson probably died on the 20th or 21st January, and was 
 buried on the day this letter was written. — Malone.] 
 
 2 Rasselas was published in March or April, 1759. 
 
 ^ [See under June 2, 1781. Finding it then accidentally in a chaise with 
 Mr. Boswell, he read it eagerly. — ^This was doubtless long after his declaration 
 to Sir Joshua Reynolds. — Malone.] 
 
 vol. I. S
 
 258 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1759. 
 
 Tale, with all the charms of oriental imagery, and all the force 
 and beauty of which the English language is capable, leads us 
 through the most important scenes of human life, and shews 
 us that this stage of our being is full of "vanity and vexation 
 of spirit." To those who look no further than the present life, 
 or who maintain that human nature has not fallen from the state 
 in which it was created, the instruction of this sublime story 
 will be of no avail. But they who think justly, and feel with 
 strong sensibility, will listen with eagerness and admiration 
 to its truth and wisdom. Voltaire's Candide, written to 
 refute the system of Optimism, which it has accomplished 
 with brilliant success, is wonderfully similar in its plan and 
 conduct to Johnson's Rasselas ; insomuch, that I have heard 
 Johnson say, that if they had not been published so closely one 
 after the other that there was not time for imitation, it would 
 have been in vain to deny that the scheme of that which came 
 latest was taken from the other. Though the proposition 
 illustrated by both these works was the same, namely, that 
 in our present state there is more evil than good, the intention 
 of the writers was very different. Voltaire, I am afraid, meant 
 only by w^anton profaneness to obtain a sportive victory over 
 religion, and to discredit the belief of a superintending 
 Providence : Johnson meant, by shewing the unsatisfactory 
 nature of things temporal, to direct the hopes of man to 
 things eternal. Rasselas, as was observed to me by a very 
 accomplished lady, may be considered as a more enlarged and 
 more deeply philosophical discourse in prose, upon the interest- 
 ing truth, which in his "Vanity of Human Wishes" he had so 
 successfully enforced in verse. 
 
 The fund of thinking which this work contains is such, that 
 almost every sentence of it may furnish a subject of long 
 meditation. I am not satisfied if a year passes without my 
 having read it through ; and at every perusal, my admiration 
 of the mind which produced it is so highly raised, that I can 
 scarcely believe that I had the honour of enjoying the intimacy 
 of such a man. 
 
 I restrain myself from quoting passages from this excellent 
 work, or even referring to them, because I should not know
 
 Age 50.] '' RASSELAS." 259 
 
 what to select, or rather, what to omit. I shall, however, 
 transcribe one, as it shews how well he could state the 
 arguments of those who believe in the appearance of departed 
 spirits ; a doctrine which it is a mistake to suppose that he 
 himself ever positively held : 
 
 "If all your fear be of apparitions, (said the Prince,) I will 
 promise you safety : there is no danger from the dead ; he that 
 is once buried will be seen no m.ore." 
 
 " That the dead are seen no more, (said Imlac,) I will not 
 undertake to maintain, against the concurrent and unvaried 
 testimony of all ages, and of all nations. There is no people, 
 rude or learned, among whom apparitions of the dead are not 
 related and believed. This opinion, which prevails as far as 
 human nature is diffused, could become universal only by its 
 truth ; those that never heard of one another, would not have 
 agreed in a tale which nothing but experience can make credible. 
 That it is doubted by single cavillers, can very little weaken the 
 general evidence ; and some who deny it with their tongues 
 confess it by their fears." 
 
 Notwithstanding my high admiration of Rasselas, I will not 
 maintain that the "morbid melancholy" in Johnson's con- 
 stitution may not, perhaps, have made life appear to him more 
 insipid and unhappy than it generally is : for I am sure that he 
 had less enjoyment from it than I have. Yet, whatever addi- 
 tional shade his own particular sensations may have thrown 
 on his representation of life, attentive observation and close 
 enquiry have convinced me, that there is too much reality in the 
 gloomy picture. The truth, however, is, that we judge of the 
 happiness and misery of life differently at different times, 
 according to the state of our changeable frame. I always 
 remember a remark made to me by a Turkish lady, educated 
 in France : " Ma foi, Monsietir, notrc botiJictir depend de la faqo)i 
 que 7iotre sang circule." This have I learnt from a pretty hard 
 course of experience, and would, from sincere benevolence, im- 
 press upon all who honour this book with a perusal, that until 
 a steady conviction is obtained, that the present life is an 
 imperfect state, and only a passage to a better, if we comply 
 with the divine scheme of progressive improvement ; and also 
 
 S 2
 
 c6o BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHXSON. [1759. 
 
 that it is a part of the mysterious plan of Providence, that 
 intellectual beings must " be made perfect through suffering ; " 
 there will be a continual recurrence of disappointment and 
 uneasiness. But if we walk with hope in " the mid-day sun " 
 of revelation, our temper and disposition will be such, that the 
 comforts and enjoyments in our way will be relished, while we 
 patiently support the inconveniences and pains. After much 
 speculation and various reasonings, I acknowledge myself con- 
 vinced of the truth of Voltaire's conclusion, " Apres tout, cest un 
 'ynondc passable^ But we must not think too deeply : 
 
 " — where ignorance is bliss, 
 
 'Tis folly to be wise," 
 
 is, in many respects, more than poetically just. Let us cultivate, 
 under the command of good principles, " la tlicorie des sensations 
 agreables;" and, as Mr, Burke once admirably counselled a 
 grave and anxious gentleman, " live pleasant." 
 
 The effect of Rasselas, and of Johnson's other moral tales, is 
 thus beautifully illustrated by Mr. Courtenay : 
 
 " Impressive truth, in splendid fiction drest. 
 Checks the vain wish, and calms the troubled breast ; 
 O'er the dark mind a light celestial throws, 
 And sooths the angry passions to repose ; 
 As oil effus'd illumes and smooths the deep. 
 When round the bark the foaming surges sweep." ^ 
 
 It will be recollected that during all this year, he carried on 
 his Idler,- and, no doubt, was proceeding, though slowly, in his 
 
 * Literary and Moral Character of Johnson. 
 
 2 This paper was in such high estimation before it was collected into 
 volumes, that it was seized on with avidity by various publishers of news- 
 papers and magazines, to enrich their publications. Johnson, to put a stop 
 to this unfair proceeding, wrote for the Universal Chronicle the following 
 advertisement ; in which there is, perhaps, more pomp of words than the 
 occasion demanded : 
 
 " London, Jan. 5, 1759. ADVERTISEMENT. The proprietors of the paper 
 entitled ' The Idler,' having found that those essays are inserted in the news- 
 papers and magazines with so little regard to justice or decency, that the 
 Universal Chronicle, in which they first appear, is not always mentioned, 
 think it necessary to declare to the publishers of those collections, that 
 however patiently they have hitherto endured these injuries, made yet more 
 injurious by contempt, they have now determined to endure them no longer. 
 They have already seen essays, for which a very large price is paid, trans- 
 ferred, with the most shameless rapacity, into the weekly or monthly
 
 Age 50.] MISCELLANEOUS IVRITLXCS. 261 
 
 edition of Shakespeare. He, however, from that hberah'ty 
 which never failed, when called upon to assist other labourers in 
 literature, found time to translate for Mrs. Lennox's English 
 version of Brumoy, "A Dissertation on the Greek Comedy,"f 
 and "The General Conclusion of the Book."-}- 
 
 An enquiry into the state of foreign countries was an object 
 that seems at all times to have interested Johnson. Hence Mr. 
 Newbery found no great difficulty in persuading him to write the 
 Introduction* to a collection of voyages and travels published 
 by him under the title of " The World Displayed : " the first 
 volume of which appeared this year, and the remaining volumes 
 in subsequent years. 
 
 I would ascribe to this year the following letter to a son 
 of one of his early friends at Lichfield, Mr. Joseph Simpson, 
 Barrister, and authour of a tract entitled " Reflections on the 
 Study of the Law." 
 
 "TO JOSEPH SIMPSON, ESQ. 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 "Your father's inexorability not only grieves but amazes 
 me : he was your father ; he is always accounted a wise man : nor 
 do I remember any thing to the disadvantage of his good 
 nature ; but in his refusal to assist you there is neither good 
 nature, fatherhood, nor wisdom. It is the practice of good 
 nature to overlook faults which have already, by the con- 
 sequences, punished the delinquent. It is natural for a father 
 
 compilations, and their right, at least for the present, alienated from them, 
 before they could themselves be said to enjoy it. But they would not 
 willingly be thought to want tenderness, even for men by whom no tender- 
 ness hath been shewn. The past is without remedy, and shall be without 
 resentment. But those who have been thus busy with their sickles in the 
 fields of their neighbours, are henceforward to take notice, that the time of 
 impunity is at an end. Whoever shall, without our leave, lay the hand of 
 rapine upon our papers, is to expect that we shall vindicate our due, by the 
 means which justice prescribes, and which are warranted by the immemorial 
 prescriptions of honourable trade. We shall lay hold, in our turn, on their 
 copies, degrade them from the pomp of wide margin and diffuse typography, 
 contract them into a narrow space, and sell them at an humble price ; yet 
 not with a view of growing rich by confiscations, for we think not much 
 better of money got by punishment than by crimes. We shall therefore, 
 when our losses are repaid, give what profit shall remain to the Magdalens ; 
 for we know not who can be more properly taxed for the support of penitent 
 prostitutes, than prostitutes in whom there yet appears neither penitence 
 nor shame."
 
 2'62 BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1759. 
 
 to think more favourably than others of his children ; and it is 
 always wise to give assistance, while a little help will prevent 
 the necessitv of c^reater, 
 
 " If you married imprudently, you miscarried at your own 
 hazard, at an age when you had a right of choice. It would be 
 hard if the man might not choose his own wife, who has a right 
 to plead before the Judges of his country. 
 
 " If your imprudence has ended in difficulties and incon- 
 veniences, you are yourself to support them ; and, with the help 
 of a little better health, you would support them and conquer 
 them. Surely, that want which accident and sickness produce, 
 is to be supported in every region of humanity, though there 
 were neither friends nor fathers in the world. You have certainly 
 from your father the highest claim of charity, though none of 
 right : and therefore I would counsel you to omit no decent nor 
 manly degree of importunity. Your debts in the whole are not 
 large, and of the whole but a small part is troublesome. Small 
 debts are like small shot ; they are rattling on every side, and 
 can scarcely be escaped without a wound : great debts are like 
 cannon ; of loud noise, but little danger. You must, therefore, 
 be enabled to discharge petty debts, that you may have leisure, 
 with security, to struggle with the rest. Neither the great nor 
 little debts disgrace you. I am sure you have my esteem for 
 the courage with which you contracted them, and the spirit with 
 which you endure them. I wish my esteem could be of more 
 use. I have been invited, or have invited myself, to several 
 parts of the kingdom : and will not incommode my dear Lucy 
 by coming to Lichfield, while her present lodging is of any use 
 to her.^ I hope in a {c\w days to be at leisure, and to make 
 visits. Whither I shall fly is matter of no importance. A man 
 unconnected is at home every where ; unless he may be said to 
 be at home no where. I am sorry, dear Sir, that where you 
 have parents, a man of your merits should not have a home. I 
 wish I could give it you. 
 
 " I am, my dear Sir, affectionately yours, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 He now refreshed himself by an excursion to Oxford, of which 
 the following short characteristical notice, in his own words, 
 is preserved : — 
 
 " is now making tea for me. I have been in my 
 
 gown ever since I came here. It was, at my first coming, quite 
 
 ' [She resided in the house which, by his mother's death, Avas now become 
 the property of Johnson. — Croker.]
 
 AGE50.] CORRESPONDENCE— FRANCIS BARBER. 263 
 
 new and handsome. I have swum thrice, which I had disused 
 for many years. I have proposed to Vansittart ^ chmbing over 
 the wall, but he has refused me. And I have clapped my hands 
 till they are sore, at Dr. King's speech." - 
 
 His negro servant, Francis Barber, having left him, and been 
 some time at sea, not pressed, as has been supposed, but with 
 his own consent, it appears from a letter to John Wilkes, Esq., 
 from Dr. Smollett, that his master kindly interested himself in 
 procuring his release from a state of life of which Johnson always 
 expressed the utmost abhorrence. He said, " No man will be a 
 sailor who has contrivance enough to get himself into a jail ; for 
 being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being 
 drowned."^ And at another time, "A man in a jail has more 
 room, better food, and commonly better company." * The letter 
 was as follows : 
 
 "Chelsea, March 16, 1759. 
 *' DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I AM again your petitioner, in behalf of that great Cham ^ 
 of literature, Samuel Johnson. His black, servant, whose name 
 
 ^ Dr. Robert Vansittart, of the ancient and respectable family of that name 
 in Berkshire. He was eminent for learning and worth, and much esteemed 
 by Dr. Johnson. [Dr. Robert Vansittart, LL.D., professor of civil law at 
 Oxford, and recorder of Windsor. He was a senior fellow of All Souls, 
 where, after he had given up the profession in London, he chiefly resided in 
 a set of rooms, formerly the old library, which he had fitted up in the Gothic 
 style, and where he died about 1794. He was remarkable for his good 
 humour and inoffensive wit, and a great favourite on the Oxford circuit. He 
 was tall and very thin ; and the bar gave the name of Counsellor Van to a 
 sharp-pointed rock on the Wye, which still retains the name. He was the 
 elder brother of Mr. Henry Vansittart, governor of Bengal, father of the 
 present Lord Bexley, to whom I am indebted for the above particulars 
 relative to his uncle. — Croker.] 
 
 ^ Gentleman's Magazine, April, 1785. 
 
 2 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit. p. 126. 
 
 * Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit. 
 
 * In my first edition this word was printed Chum, as it appears in one of 
 Mr. Wilkes"s Miscellanies, and I animadverted on Dr. Smollett's ignorance ; 
 for which let me propitiate the manes of that ingenious and benevolent 
 gentleman. Chum was certainly a mistaken reading for Cham, the title of 
 the Sovereign of Tartary, which is well applied to Johnson, the Monarch of 
 Literature ; and was an epithet familiar to Smollett. See '' Roderic'.c 
 Random," chap. 56. For this correction I am indebted to Lord Palmerston, 
 whose talents and literary acquirements accord well with his respectable 
 pedigree of Temple. 
 
 [After the publication of the second edition of this work, the authour was
 
 264 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1759. 
 
 is Francis Barber, has been pressed on board the Stag frigate, 
 Captain Angel, and our lexicographer is in great distress. He 
 says the boy is a sickly lad, of a delicate frame, and particularly 
 subject to a malady in his throat, which renders him very unfit 
 for his Majesty's service. You know what matter of animosity 
 the said Johnson has against you : and I dare say you desire no 
 other opportunity of resenting it, than that of laying him under 
 an obligation. He was humble enough to desire my assistance 
 on this occasion, though he and I were never cater-cousins ; and 
 I gave him to understand that I would make application to my 
 friend Mr. Wilkes, who, perhaps, by his interest with Dr. Hay 
 and Mr. Elliot, might be able to procure the discharge of his 
 lacquey. It would be superfluous to say more on the subject, 
 which I leave to your own consideration ; but I cannot let slip 
 this opportunity of declaring that I am, with the most inviolable 
 esteem and attachment, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your affectionate, obliged, humble servant, 
 
 ^ " T. Smollett." 
 
 Mr. Wilkes, who, upon all occasions, has acted, as a private 
 gentleman, with most polite liberality, applied to his friend. 
 Sir George Hay, then one of the Lords Commissioners of the 
 Admiralty ; and Francis Barber was discharged, as he has told 
 me, without any wish of his own. He found his old master in 
 Chambers in the Inner Temple, and returned to his service. 
 
 What particular new scheme of life Johnson had in view this 
 year, I have not discovered ; but that he meditated one of some 
 sort, is clear from his private devotions, in which we find ^ " the 
 change of outward things which I am now to make ; " and 
 " Grant me the grace of thy Holy Spirit, that the course which 
 I am now beginning may proceed according to thy laws, and 
 end in the enjoyment of thy favour." But he did not, in fact^ 
 make any external or visible change.^ 
 
 furnished by Mr. Abercrombie of Philadelphia, with the copy of a letter 
 written by Dr. John Armstrong, the poet, to Ur. Smollett, at Leghorn, 
 containing the following paragraph : 
 
 "As to the K. Bench patriot, it is hard to say from what motive he 
 published a letter of yours asking some trifling favour of him in behalf of 
 somebody for whom the great CHAM of literature, Mr. Johnson, had in- 
 terested himself." — Malone.] 
 
 ' Prayers and Meditations, pp. 30 and 40. 
 
 - It seems, from a note of his to Miss Porter, that Johnson on the 23rd of 
 March, of this year, left his house in Gough-square, and went to reside in
 
 Age 50.] BUILDING OF BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE. 265 
 
 At this time, there being a competition among the architects 
 of London to be employed in the building of Blackfriars-bridgc, 
 a question was very warmly agitated, whether semicircular or 
 elliptical arches were preferable. In the design offered by Mr. 
 Mylne, the elliptical form was adopted, and therefore it was the 
 great object of his rivals to attack it. Johnson's regard for his 
 friend, Mr. Gwyn, induced him to engage in this controversy 
 against Mr. Mylne ; ^ and after being at considerable pains to 
 
 Staple Inn ; Miss Williams took eparate lodgings. [The note to Miss 
 Porter, given by Mr. Croker is this : 
 
 " March 23, 1759. 
 " Dear Madam, — I beg your pardon for having so long omitted to write. 
 One thing or other has put me olT. I have this day moved my things, and 
 you are now to direct to me at Staple Inn, London. I hope, my dear, you 
 are well, and Kitty mends. I wish her success in her trade. I am going to 
 publish a little story book [Rasselas], which I will send you when it is out. 
 Write to me, my dearest girl, for I am always glad to hear from you. 
 
 " I am, my dear, your humble servant, 
 —Pearson MSS. "Sam. Johnson."] 
 
 1 Sir John Hawkins has given a long detail of it, in that manner \-uigarly, 
 but significantly, called rigmm-ole ; in which, amidst an ostentatious exhibi- 
 tion of arts and artists, he talks of " proportions of a column being taken 
 from that of the human figure, and adjusted by nature — masculine and femi- 
 nine — in a man, sesqiiioctave of the head, and in a woman sesquinonal ; " 
 nor has he failed to introduce a jargon of musical terms, which do not seem 
 much to correspond with the subject, but serve to make up the heterogeneous 
 mass. To follow the Knight through all this, would be an useless fatigue to 
 myself, and not a little disgustmg to my readers. I shall, therefore, only 
 make a few remarks upon his statement. — He seems to exult in having 
 detected Johnson in procuring "from a person eminently skilled in mathe- 
 maticks and the principles of architecture, answers to a string of questions 
 drawn up by himself, touching the comparative strength of semicircular and 
 elliptical arches." Now I cannot conceive how Johnson could have acted 
 more wisely. Sir John complains that the opinion of that excellent mathe- 
 matician, Mr. Thomas Simpson, did not preponderate in favour of the 
 semicircular arch. But he should have known, that however eminent Mr. 
 Simpson was in the higher parts of abstract mathematical science, he was 
 little versed in mixed and practical mechanicks. Mr. MuUer, of Woolwich 
 Academy, the scholastick father of all the great engineers which this country 
 has employed for forty years, decided the question by declaring clearly in 
 favour of the elliptical arch. 
 
 It is ungraciously suggested, that Johnson's motive for opposing Mr. Mylne's 
 scheme may have been his prejudice against him as a native of North 
 Britain ; when, in truth, as has been stated, he gave the aid of his able pen 
 to a friend, who was one of the candidates ; and so far was he from having 
 any illiberal antipathy to Mr. Mylne, that he afterwards lived with that 
 gentleman upon very agreeable terms of acquaintance, and dined Mith him 
 at his house. Sir John Hawkins, indeed, gives full vent to his own prejudice 
 in abusing Blackfriars-bridge, calling it " an edifice, in which beauty and
 
 266 nOSVVELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [176c 
 
 study the subject, he wrote three several letters in the Gazetteer 
 in opposition to his plan. 
 
 If it should be remarked that this was a controversy which lay 
 quite out of Johnson's way, let it be remembered, that after all, 
 his employing his powers of reasoning and eloquence upon a 
 subject which he had studied on the moment, is not more 
 strange than that we often observe in lawyers, who, as Quicqitid 
 agiint homines is the matter of law-suits, are sometimes obliged 
 to pick up a temporary knowledge of an art or science of which 
 they understood nothing till their brief was delivered, and 
 appear to be much masters of it. In like manner, members of 
 the legislature frequently introduce and expatiate upon subjects 
 of which they have informed themselves for the occasion. 
 
 In 1760 he wrote "an Address of the Painters to George III. 
 on his Accession to the Throne of these Kingdoms," -}- which no 
 monarch ever ascended with more sincere congratulations from 
 his people. Two generations of foreign princes had prepared 
 their minds to rejoice in having again a King, who gloried in 
 being " born a Eriton." ^ He also wrote for Mr. Baretti the 
 Dedication -f- of his Italian and English Dictionary, to the 
 Marquis of Abreu, then Envoy-Extraordinary from Spain at 
 the Court of Great-Britain. 
 
 symmetry are in vain sought for ; by which the citizens of London have 
 perpetuated their own disgrace, and subjected a whole nation to the reproach 
 of foreigners." Whoever has contemplated, placido luinine, this stately, 
 elegant, and airy structure, which has so fine an effect, especially on ap- 
 proaching the capital on that quarter, must wonder at such unjust and 
 ill-tempered censure ; and I appeal to all foreigners of good taste, whether 
 this bridge be not one of the most distinguished ornaments of London. As 
 to the stability of the fabrick, it is certain that the City of London took every 
 precaution to have the best Portland stone for it ; but as this is to be found 
 in the quarries belonging to the publick under the direction of the Lords of 
 the Treasury, it so happened that parliamentary interest, which is often the 
 bane of fair pursuits, thwarted their endeavours. Notwithstanding this 
 disadvantage, it is well known that not only has Blackfriars-bridge never 
 sunk either in its foundation or in its arches, which were so much the subject 
 of contest, but any injuries which it has suffered from the effects of severe 
 frosts have been already, in some measure, repaired with sounder stone, and 
 every necessary renewal can be completed at a moderate expence. [It 
 became necessary to remove the bridge as unsafe, and a new bridge has 
 occupied its place since 1869.] 
 
 1 [" Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of Briton." — 
 George IH.'s first Speech to his Parliament.^CROKER.]
 
 AGE51.] MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS. 267 
 
 Johnson was now either very idle, or very busy with his 
 Shakspeare ; for I can find no other pubHck composition by 
 him except an Introduction to the proceedings of the Committee 
 for cloathing the French Prisoners ; * one of the many proofs 
 that he was ever awake to the calls of humanity ; and an account 
 which he gave in the Gentleman's Magazine of Mr. Ty tier's 
 acute and able vindication of Mary, Queen of Scots.* The 
 generosity of Johnson's feelings shines forth in the following 
 sentence : 
 
 " It has now been fashionable, for near half a century, to 
 defame and vilify the house of Stuart, and to exalt and 
 magnify the reign of Elizabeth. The Stuarts have found few 
 apologists, for the dead cannot pay for praise ; and who will, 
 without reward, oppose the tide of popularity } Yet there 
 remains still among us, not wholly extinguished, a zeal for truth, 
 a desire of establishing right in opposition to fashion." 
 
 In this year I have not discovered a single private letter 
 written by him to any of his friends. It should seem, however, 
 that he had at this period a floating intention of writing a 
 history of the recent and wonderful successes of the British arms 
 in all quarters of the globe ; for among his resolutions and 
 memorandums, September iS, there is," Send for books for Hist, 
 of War." ^ How much is it to be regretted that this intention 
 
 1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 42. — [The following memorandum, made on 
 his birthday in this year, may be quoted as an example of the rules and reso- 
 lutions which he was in the habit of making, for the guidance of his moral 
 conduct and literary studies : 
 
 "Sept. iS. Resolved, Y:){€o)]{iivante), 
 
 To combat notions of obligation : 
 
 To apply to study : 
 
 To reclaim imaginations : 
 
 To consult the resolves on Tetty's coffin : 
 
 To rise early : 
 
 To study religion : 
 
 To go to church : 
 
 To drink less strong liquors : 
 
 To keep a journal : 
 
 To oppose laziness, by doing what is to be done to-morrow : 
 
 Rise as early as 1 can : 
 
 Send for Books for Hist, of War : 
 
 Put books in order : 
 
 Scheme of life' Pr. and Med. — Crokkr.]
 
 268 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1760. 
 
 was not fulfilled. His majestick expressions would have carried 
 down to the latest posterity the glorious achievements of his 
 country, with the same fervent glow which they produced on 
 the mind at the time. He would have been under no temptation 
 to deviate in any degree from truth, which he held very sacred, 
 or to take a licence, which a learned divine told me he once 
 seemed, in a conversation, jocularly to allow to historians, 
 
 " There are (said he) inexcusable lies and consecrated lies. 
 F'or instance, we are told that on the arrival of the news of the 
 unfortunate battle of Fontenoy, every heart, and every eye was 
 in tears. Now we know that no man ate his dinner the worse, 
 but there should have been all this concern ; and to say there 
 was (smiling), may be reckoned a consecrated lie." 
 
 This year Mr. Murphy, having thought himself ill-treated by 
 the Reverend Dr. Franklin, who was one of the writers of the 
 "Critical Review," published an indignaat vindication in "A 
 Poetical Epistle to Samuel Johnson, A.M.,"^ in which he 
 compliments Johnson in a just and elegant manner : — 
 
 " Transcendant Genius ! whose prolifick vein 
 Ne'er knew the frigid poet's toil and pain ; 
 To ■whom Apollo opens all his store, 
 And every Muse presents her sacred lore ; 
 Say, pow'rful JOHNSON, whence thy verse is fraught 
 With so much grace, such energy of thought ; 
 Whether thy Juvenal instructs the age 
 In chaster numbers, and new points his rage ; 
 Or fair Irene sees, alas ! too late 
 Her innocence exchang'd for guilty state ; 
 Whate'er you write, in every golden line 
 Sublimity and elegance combine ; 
 Thy nervous phrase impresses every soul, 
 While harmony gives rapture to the whole." 
 
 Again, towards the conclusion : 
 
 " Thou then, my friend, who see'st the dang'rous strife 
 In which some demon bids me plunge my life, 
 To the Aonian fount direct my feet, 
 Say, where the Nine thy lonely musings meet ? 
 Where warbles to thy ear the sacred throng, 
 Thy moral sense, thy dignity of song ? 
 
 1 [Based on Boilcau's Poetical Epistle to Molicre.]
 
 AGE5I-] ARTHUR MURPHY. 269 
 
 Tell, for you can, by what unerring art 
 
 You wake to finer feelings every heart ; 
 
 In each bright page some truth important give, 
 
 And bid to future times thy Rambler live." 
 
 I take this opportunity to relate the manner in which an 
 acquaintance first commenced between Dr. Johnson and Mr. 
 Murphy. During the publication of "The Gray's-Inn Journal," 
 a periodical paper which was successfully carried on by Mr. 
 Murphy alone, when a very young man, he happened to be in 
 the country with Mr, Foote ; and havmg mentioned that he was 
 obliged to go to London in order to get ready for the press one 
 of the numbers of that Journal, Foote said to him, " You need 
 not go on that account. Here is a French magazine, in which 
 you will find a very pretty oriental tale ; translate that, and send 
 it to your printer." Mr. Murphy having read the tale, was highly 
 pleased with it, and followed Foote's advice. When he returned 
 to Town, this tale was pointed out to him in " The Rambler," 
 from whence it had been translated into the French magazine. 
 Mr. Murphy then waited upon Johnson, to explain this curious 
 incident. His talents, literature, and gentleman-like manners, 
 were soon perceived by Johnson, and a friendship was formed 
 which was never broken.^ 
 
 1 [When Mr. Murphy first became acquainted with Dr. Johnson, he was 
 about thirty-one years old. He died at Knightsbridge, June 18, 1S05, it is 
 believed in his eighty-second year. 
 
 In an account of this gentleman, published recently after his death, he is 
 reported to have said, that "he was but twcHty-one" when he had the im- 
 pudence to write a periodical paper, during the time that Johnson was 
 publishing " The Rambler." — In a subsequent page, in which Mr. Boswell 
 gives an account of his first introduction to Johnson, will be found a striking 
 instance of the incorrectness of Mr. Murphy's memory ; and the assertion 
 above-mentioned, if indeed he made it, which is by no means improbable, 
 furnishes an additional proof of his inaccuracy ; for both the facts asserted 
 are unfounded. He appears to have been eight years older than twenty-one, 
 when he began the Gray's-Inn Journal ; and that paper, instead of running a 
 race with Johnson's production, did not appear till after the closing of the 
 Rambler, which ended March 14, 1752. The first number of the Gray's-Inn 
 Journal made its appearance about seven months afterwards, in a news-paper 
 of the time, called the Craftsman, October 21, 1752 ; and in that form the first 
 forty-nine numbers were given to the publick. On Saturday, Sept. 29, 1753, 
 it assumed a new form, and was published as a distinct periodical paper ; and 
 in that shape it continued to be published till the 21st of Sept. 1754, when it 
 finally closed ; forming in the whole one hundred and one Essays, in the folio 
 copy. The extraordinary paper mentioned in the text (the History of
 
 270 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1760-61. 
 
 "TO BENNET LANGTOX, ESQ, AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY, 
 
 LINCOLNSHIRE. 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 " You that travel about the world, have more materials 
 for letters, than I who stay at home: and should, therefore, write 
 with frequency equal to your opportunities. I should be glad to 
 have all England surveyed by you, if you would impart your 
 observations in narratives as agreeable as your last. Knowledge 
 is always to be wished to those who can communicate it well. 
 While you have been riding and running, and seeing the tombs 
 of the learned, and the camps of the valiant, I have only staid 
 at home, and intended to do great things, which I have not 
 done. Beau^ went away to Cheshire, and has not yet found his 
 way back. Chambers passed the vacation at Oxford. 
 
 " I am very sincerely solicitous for the preservation or curing 
 of Mr. Langton's sight, and am glad that the chirurgeon at 
 Coventry gives him so much hope. Mr. Sharpe is of opinion 
 that the tedious maturation of the cataract is a vulgar errour, 
 and that it may be removed as soon as it is formed. This 
 notion deserves to be considered ; I doubt whether it be uni- 
 versally true ; but if it be true in some cases, and those cases 
 can be distinguished, it may save a long and uncomfortable 
 delay. 
 
 " Of dear Mrs. Langton you give me no account ; which is the 
 
 Abouzaid the son of Morad) is No. 38 of the second series, published on June 
 i5i 1754; which is a retranslation from the French version of Johnson's 
 Rambler, No. 190. It was omitted in the republication of these Essays in two 
 volumes l2mo. in which one hundred and four are found, and in which the 
 papers are not always dated on the days when they really appeared ; so that 
 the motto prefixed to this Anglo-Gallick Eastern X.-Aq, obscuris ver-a tnvolvens, 
 might very properly have been prefixed to this work when republished. Mr. 
 Murphy did not, I believe, wait on Johnson recently after the publication or 
 this adumbration of one of his Ramblers, as seems to be stated in the 
 text; for, in his concluding Essay, Sept. 21, 1754, we find the following 
 paragraph : 
 
 " Besides, why may not a person rather choose an air of bold negligence, 
 than the obscure diligence of pedants and writers of affected phraseology. 
 For my part, I have always thought an easy style more eligible than a pomp- 
 ous diction, lifted up by metaphor, amplified by epithet, and dignified by too 
 frequent insertions of the Latin idiom." It is probable that the Rambler was 
 here intended to be censured, and that the authour, when he wrote it, was not 
 acquainted with Johnson, whom, from his first introduction, he endeavoured 
 to conciliate. Their acquaintance, therefore, it may be presumed, did not 
 commence till towards the end of this year 1754. Murphy, however, had 
 highly praised Johnson in the preceding year. No. 14, of the second series, 
 Dec. 22, 1753. — Malone.] 
 
 ^ Topham Beauclerk, Esq.
 
 Age 51-52.] THOMAS SHERIDAN— RICHARD ROLT. 271 
 
 less friendly, as you know how highly I think of her, and how 
 much I interest myself in her health. I suppose you told her 
 of my opinion, and likewise suppose it was not followed ; how- 
 ever, I still believe it to be right. 
 
 " Let me hear from you again, wherever you are, or whatever 
 you are doing ; whether you wander or sit still, plant trees or 
 make Rusticks} play with your sisters or muse alone ; and in 
 return I will tell you the success of Sheridan,^ who at this 
 instant is playing Cato, and has already played Richard twice. 
 He had more company the second than the first night, and will 
 make, I believe, a good figure in the whole, though his faults 
 seem to be very many ; some of natural deficience, and some of 
 laborious affectation. He has, I think, no power of assuming 
 either that dignity or elegance which some men, who have little 
 of either in common life, can exhibit on the stage. His voice 
 when strained is unpleasing, and when low is not always heard. 
 He seems to think too much on the audience, and turns his face 
 too often to the galleries. 
 
 " However, I wish him well ; and among other reasons, be- 
 cause I like his wife.^ 
 
 " Make haste to write to, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your most affectionate Servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "Oct. 18, 1760." 
 
 In 1 76 1 Johnson appears to have done little. He was 
 still, no doubt, proceeding in his edition of Shakspeare ; but 
 what advances he made in it cannot be ascertained. He 
 certainly was at this time not active ; for, in his scrupulous 
 examination of himself on Easter eve, he laments, in his too 
 rigorous mode of censuring his own conduct, that his life, since 
 the communion of the preceding Easter, had been " dissipated 
 and useless."* He, however, contributed this year the Preface* 
 to " Rolt's Dictionary of Trade and Commerce," in which he 
 displays such a clear and comprehensive knowledge of the 
 
 ^ Essays with that title, written about this time by Mr. Langton, but not 
 published. 
 
 2 [Thomas Sheridan, son of the friend of Swift, and father of Richard 
 ]>rinsley Sheridan, was born at Ouilca, in Ireland, in 1721, and died in 1788. 
 This was his first appearance at Drury Lane for sixteen years. — Croker.] 
 
 ^ Mrs. Sheridan was authour of " Memoirs of Miss Sydney Biddulph," a 
 novel of great merit, and of some other pieces. [She died in 1767.] 
 
 * Prayers and Meditations, p. 44.
 
 272 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1761. 
 
 subject, as might lead the reader to think that its anthour 
 had devoted all his life to it. I asked him, whether he knew 
 much of Rolt, and of his work. " Sir (said he), I never saw 
 the man, and never read the book. The booksellers wanted 
 a Preface to a Dictionary of Trade and Commerce. I knew 
 very well what such a Dictionary should be, and I wrote a 
 Preface accordingly," Rolt, who wrote a great deal for the 
 booksellers, was, as Johnson told me, a singular character. 
 Though not in the least acquainted with him, he used to say, 
 "I am just come from Sam. Johnson." This was a sufficient 
 specimen of his vanity and impudence. But he gave a more 
 eminent proof of it in our sister kingdom, as Dr. Johnson 
 informed me. When Akenside's " Pleasures of the Imagina- 
 tion " first came out, he did not put his name to the poem. 
 Rolt went over to Dublin, published an edition of it, and put 
 his own name to it. Upon the fame of this he lived for several 
 months, being entertained at the best tables as " the ingenious 
 Mr. Rolt." ^ His conversation, indeed, did not discover much 
 of the fire of a poet ; but it was recollected that both Addison 
 and Thomson were equally dull till excited by wine. Akenside 
 having been informed of this imposition, vindicated his right 
 by publishing the poem with its real authour's name. Several 
 instances of such literary fraud have been detected. The 
 Reverend Dr. Campbell of St. Andrew's, wrote "An Enquiry 
 into the original of Moral Virtue," the manuscript of which he 
 sent to Mr. Innes, a clergyman in England, who was his 
 countryman and acquaintance. Innes published it with his 
 own name to it ; and before the imposition was discovered, 
 obtained considerable promotion, as a reward of his merit.- 
 The celebrated Dr. Hugh Blair, and his cousin, Mr. George 
 Bannatine, when students in divinity, wrote a poem, entitled 
 
 ' I have had enquiry made in Ireland as to this story, but do not find it 
 recollected there. I give it on the authority of Ur. Johnson, to which may be 
 added, that of the "Biographical Dictionary," and " Biographia Dramatica;" 
 in both of which it has stood many years. [Richard Roll's Dictionary of 
 Trade and Commerce had been published, with Johnson's Preface, in a folio, 
 in 1756. In 1759 ^^^'^ published a folio of Lives of the Principal Reformers ; 
 being lives of 21 men, with their portraits.] 
 
 2 I have both the books. Innes was the clergyman who brought Psalman- 
 azar to England, and was an accomplice in his extraordinary fiction.
 
 Age 52.] FILIATION OF BOOKS. 273 
 
 "The Resurrection," copies of which were handed about in 
 manuscript. They were, at length, very much surprized to see 
 a pompous edition of it in foHo, dedicated to the Princess 
 Dowager of Wales, by a Dr. Douglas, as his own. Some years 
 ago a little novel, entitled " The Man of Feeling," was assumed 
 by Mr. Eccles, a young Irish clergyman, who was afterwards 
 drowned near Bath.^ He had been at the pains to transcribe 
 the whole book, with blottings, interlineations, and corrections, 
 that it might be shewn to several people as an original. It was 
 in truth, the production of Mr. Henry Mackenzie, an attorney 
 in the Exchequer at Edinburgh, who is the authour of several 
 other ingenious pieces ; ^ but the belief with regard to Mr. 
 Eccles became so general, that it was thought necessary for 
 Messieurs Strahan and Cadell to publish an advertisement in 
 the newspapers, contradicting the report, and mentioning that 
 they purchased the copy-right of Mr. Mackenzie.^ I can 
 cenceive this kind of fraud to be very easily practised with 
 successful effrontery. The Filiation of a literary performance 
 is difficult of proof; seldom is there any witness present at its 
 birth. A man, either in confidence or by improper means, 
 obtains possession of a copy of it in manuscript, and boldly 
 publishes it as his own. The true authour, in many cases, may 
 not be able to make his title clear. Johnson, fndeed, from the 
 
 ^ [" Died, the Rev. Mr. Eccles, at Bath. In attempting to save a boy whom 
 he saw sinking in the Avon, he, together with the youth, were both drowned."' 
 — Cent. Mag. Aug. 15. 1777. And in the magazine for the next month are 
 some verses on this event, with an epitaph, of which the first hne is, 
 
 " Beneath this stone the Alan of Feeling \its."^-CKO'K.^v..'\ 
 
 2 [Henry Mackenzie Hved to the age of eighty-six, and died rich in social 
 honours in 1831. His Ma7i of Feeling., first pubhshed in 1771, was an 
 imitation of Sterne ; but without any attempt at humour it only reflected the 
 extravagance of sentiment associated with the movements of literature that 
 preceded and followed the French Revolution, and was influenced greatly by 
 the genius of Rousseau.] 
 
 ' [In 1777 an "Elegiac Ode to the memory of the Rev. Charles Steuart 
 Eccles," was published, in which, not only "The Man, of Feeling," but 
 Mr. Mackenzie's other novels are attributed to him, as well as in some lines 
 on his death, which appeared in the Gent. Mag. of that year. He was 
 Rector of Birts Morton, Worcestershire, and perished in endeavouring to 
 save a youth who had fallen into the river Avon. — Chalmers.] 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1762. 
 
 peculiar features of his literary offspring, might bid defiance to 
 any attempt to appropriate them to others : 
 
 " But Shakspeare's magick could not copied be, 
 Within that circle none durst walk but he." 
 
 He this year lent his friendly assistance to correct and improve 
 a pamphlet written by Mr. Gwyn, the architect, entitled 
 "Thoughts on the Coronation of George III."* 
 
 Johnson had now for some years admitted Mr. Baretti to his 
 intimacy ; nor did their friendship cease upon their being 
 separated by Baretti's revisiting his native country, as appears 
 from Johnson's letters to him. 
 
 " TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN.i 
 
 "You reproach me very often with parsimony of writing; 
 but you may discover by the extent of my paper, that I design 
 to recompense rarity by length. A short letter to a distant 
 friend is, in my opinion, an insult like that of a slight bow or 
 cursory salutation ; — a proof of unwillingness to do much, even 
 where there is a necessity of doing something. Yet it must be 
 remembered, that he who continues the same course of life in 
 the same place, will have little to tell. One week and one year 
 are very like one another. The silent changes made by time are 
 not always perceived ; and if they are not perceived, cannot be 
 recounted. I have risen and lain down, talked and mused, while 
 you have roved over a considerable part of Europe ; yet I have 
 not envied my Baretti any of his pleasures, though, perhaps, 
 I have envied others his company : and I am glad to have other 
 nations made acquainted with the character of the English, by 
 a traveller who has so nicely inspected our manners, and so 
 successfully studied our literature. I received your kind letter 
 from Falmouth, in which you gave me notice of your departure 
 for Lisbon ; and another from Lisbon, in which you told me, 
 that you were to leave Portugal in a few days. To either of 
 these how could any answer be returned .-' I have had a third 
 from Turin, complaining that I have not answered the former. 
 Your English style still continues in its purity and vigour. 
 
 ^ The originals of Dr. Johnson's three letters to Mr. Baretti, which are 
 among the very best he ever wrote, were communicated to the proprietors of 
 that instructive and elegant monthly miscellany, "The European Magazine," 
 in which they tirst appeared.
 
 Age 52.] LETTER TO BARETTI. 275 
 
 With vigour your genius will supply it : but its purity must be 
 continued by close attention. To use two languages familiarly, 
 and without contaminating one by the other, is very difficult ; 
 and to use more than two, is hardly to be hoped. The praises 
 which some have received for their multiplicity of languages, 
 may be sufficient to excite industry, but can hardly generate 
 confidence. 
 
 " I know not whether I can heartily rejoice at the kind 
 reception which you have found, or at the popularity to which 
 you are exalted. I am willing that your merit should be 
 distinguished ; but cannot wish that your affections may be 
 gained. I would have you happy wherever you are : yet I 
 would have you wish to return to England. If ever you visit us 
 again you will find the kindness of your friends undiminished. 
 To tell you how many enquiries are made after you, would be 
 tedious, or if not tedious, would be vain ; because you may be 
 told in a very few words, that all who knew you wish you well ; 
 and that all that you embraced at your departure, will caress 
 you at your return : therefore do not let Italian academicians 
 nor Italian ladies drive us from your thoughts. You may find 
 among us what you will leave behind, soft smiles and easy 
 sonnets. Yet I shall not wonder if all our invitations should 
 be rejected; for there is a pleasure in being considerable at 
 home, which is not easily resisted. 
 
 "By conducting Mr. Southwell to Venice, you fulfilled, 1 
 know, the original contract : yet I would wish you not wholly 
 to lose him from your notice, but to recommend him to such 
 acquaintance as may best secure him from suffering by his 
 own follies, and to take such general care both of his safety and 
 his interest as may come within your power. His relations will 
 thank you for any such gratuitous attention : at least they will 
 not blame you for any ev-il that may happen, whether they thank 
 you or not for any good. 
 
 "You know that we have a new King and a new Parliament. 
 Of the new Parliament Fitzherbert is a member. W'c were so 
 weary of our old King, that we are much pleased with his 
 successor ; of whom we are so much inclined to hope great 
 things, that most of us begin already to believe them. The 
 young man is hitherto blameless ; but it would be unreasonable 
 to expect much from the immaturity of juvenile years, and the 
 ignorance of princely education. He has been long in the hands 
 of the Scots, and has already favoured them more than the 
 English will contentedly endure. But, perhaps, he scarcely 
 knows whom he has distinguished, or whom he has disgusted. 
 
 ** The Artists have instituted a yearly Exhibition of pictures 
 
 T 2
 
 276 BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1761. 
 
 'and "^statues, in imitation, as I am told, of foreign academics. 
 This year was the second exhibition. They please themselves 
 much with the multitude of spectators, and imagine that the 
 English School will rise in reputation. Reynolds is without a 
 rival, and continues to add thousands to thousands, which he 
 deserves, among other excellencies, by retaining his kindness 
 for Baretti. This Exhibition has filled the heads of the Artists 
 and lovers of art. Surely life, if it be not long, is tedious, since 
 we are forced to call in the assistance of so many trifles to rid us 
 of our time, of that time which never can return.^ 
 
 " I know my Baretti will not be satisfied with a letter in which 
 I give him no account of myself: yet what account shall I give 
 him .'' I have not, since the day of our separation, suffered or 
 done any thing considerable. The only change in my way of 
 life is, that I have frequented the theatre more than in former 
 seasons. But I have gone thither only to escape from myself. 
 We have had many new farces, and the comedy called ' The 
 Jealous Wife,' ^ which, though not written with much genius, 
 was yet so well adapted to the stage, and so well exhibited by 
 
 ^ [This classification of the art of painting and the exhibition of its pro- 
 ductions among the futile trifles by which mankind endeavour to get rid of 
 time, will excite some surprise, but Hawkins tells us that "of the beauties of 
 painting, notwithstanding the many eulogiums on that art which, after the 
 commencement of his friendship with Sir Joshua Reynolds, he inserted in 
 his writings, Johnson had not the least conception ; and the notice of this 
 defect led me to mention the following fact. One evening, at the club, 1 
 came in with a small roll of prints, which, in the afternoon, I had picked up : 
 I think they were landscapes of Perelle, and laying it down with my hat, 
 Johnson's curiosity prompted him to take it up and unroll it : he viewed the 
 prints severally with great attention, and asked me what sort of pleasure such 
 things could afford me : I replied that, as representations of nature, contain- 
 ing an assemblage of such particulars as render rural scenes delightful, they 
 presented to my mind the objects themselves, and that my imagination 
 realised the prospect before me. He said, that was more than his would do, for 
 that in his whole life he was never capable of discerning the least resemblance 
 of any kind between the picture and the subject it was intended to represent." 
 To the delights of music he was equally insensible : neither voice nor instru- 
 ment, nor the harmony of concordant sounds, had power over his affec- 
 tions, or even to engage his attention. Of music in general, he has been 
 heard to say, " It excites in my mind no ideas, and hinders me from contem- 
 plating my own ; " and of a fine singer, or instrumental performer, that " he 
 had the merit of a Canary-bird." I\ot that his hearing was so defective as 
 to account for this insensibility, but he laboured under the misfortune which 
 he has noted in the Life of Barretter, of wanting that additional sense or 
 faculty, which renders music grateful to the human ear. — Croker,] 
 
 - [George Colman, the elder, born in 1733 in Florence, when his father was 
 British Envoy there, was educated at Westminster and Christchurch, Oxford, 
 left Law for Literature, and first made his mark as a dramatist with T]ie 
 Jealous Wife, produced in February, 1761.]
 
 Age 52.] REYNOLDS— FIRST ARTISTS' EXHIBITIONS. 277 
 
 the actors, that it was crowded for near twenty nights. I am 
 digressing from myself to the play house ; but a barren plan 
 must be filled with episodes. Of myself I have nothing to say, 
 but that I have hitherto lived without the concurrence of my 
 own judgement ; yet I continue to flatter myself, that when you 
 return, you will find me mended. I do not wonder that where 
 the monastick life is permitted, every order finds votaries, and 
 every monastery inhabitants. Men will submit to any rule, by 
 which they may be exempt from the tyranny of caprice and of 
 chance. They are glad to supply by external authority their 
 own want of constancy and resolution, and court the government 
 of others, when long experience has convinced them of their 
 own inability to govern themselves. If I were to visit Italy, my 
 curiosity would be more attracted by convents than by palaces ; 
 though I am afraid I should find expectation in both places 
 equally disappointed, and life in both places supported with 
 impatience and quitted with reluctance. That it must be so 
 soon quitted, is a powerful remedy against impatience ; but 
 what shall free us from reluctance .'' Those who have en- 
 deavoured to teach us to die well, have taught few to die 
 willingly : yet I cannot but hope that a good life might end at 
 last in a contented death. 
 
 " You see to what a train of thought I am drawn by the men- 
 tion of myself Let me now turn my attention upon you. I hope 
 you take care to keep an exact journal, and to register all 
 occurrences and observations ; for your friends here expect such 
 a book of travels as has not been often seen. You have given us 
 good specimens in your letters from Lisbon. I wish you had 
 staid longer in Spain, for no country is less known to the rest of 
 Europe ; but the quickness of your discernment must make 
 amends for the celerity of your motions. He that knows which 
 way to direct his view, sees much in a little time. 
 
 " Write to me very often, and I will not neglect to write to 
 you ; and I may, perhaps, in time, get something to write : at 
 least you will know by my letters, whatever else they may have 
 or want, that 1 continue to be, 
 
 " Your most affectionate friend, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "[London,] June 10, 1761." 
 
 In 1762 he wrote for the Reverend Dr. Kennedy, Rector of 
 Bradley in Derbyshire, in a strain of very courtly elegance, a 
 Dedication to the King * of that gentleman's work, entitled " A 
 complete System of Astronomical Chronology, unfolding the
 
 278 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1762. 
 
 Scriptures." He had certainly looked at this work before it was 
 printed ; for the concluding- paragraph is undoubtedly of his 
 composition, of which let my readers judge ; 
 
 " Thus have I endeavoured to free Religion and History from 
 the darkness of a disputed and uncertain chronology ; from 
 difficulties which have hitherto appeared insuperable, and dark- 
 ness which no luminary of learning has hitherto been able to 
 dissipate. I have established the truth of the Mosaical account, 
 by evidence which no transcription can corrupt, no negligence 
 can lose, and no interest can pervert. I have shewn that the 
 universe bears witness to the inspiration of its historian, by the 
 revolution of its orbs and the succession of its seasons ; that the 
 stars in their course fight against incredulity, that the works of 
 God give hourly confirmation to the law, the prophets, and the 
 gospel, of which one day telleth another, and one night certifieth 
 another ; and that the validity of the sacred writings never can 
 be denied, while the moon shall increase and wane, and the sun 
 shall know his going down." 
 
 He this year wrote also the Dedication f to the Earl of 
 Middlesex, of Mrs. Lennox's "Female Quixote," and the Preface 
 to the " Catalogue of the Artists' Exhibition." -f- 
 
 The following letter, which, on account of its intrinsick merit, 
 it would have been unjust both to Johnson and the publick to 
 have withheld, was obtained for me by the solicitation of my 
 friend Mr. Seward : 
 
 "TO' DR. STAUNTON,! (NOW SIR GEORGE STAUNTON, BARONET). 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I MAKE haste to answer your kind letter, in hope of 
 hearing again from you before you leave us. I cannot but 
 
 ! [George Leonard Staunton was born in Galway, in Ireland, 1737, and 
 having adopted the profession of medicine, which he studied in France, he 
 came to London in 1760, where he wrote for the periodical pubhcations of 
 the day, and formed an acciuaintance with Dr. Johnson. In 1762 he went 
 to the West Indies, where he practised as a pliysician for a short time, and 
 by that and some civil offices, accumulated a competent fortune, which he 
 invested in estates in the island of Granada. He returned to England in 
 1770 ; but, in 1772, again went to Granada, where he was appointed attorney- 
 general, and made the valuable acquaintance of Lord Macartney, who 
 became governor of that island in 1774. By the capture of Granada by the 
 French in 1779, Lord Macartney lost his government, and Staunton his 
 property. He returned to England with, it is supposed, little of the wreck
 
 Age 53.] MISCELLANEOUS WRITING— CORRESPONDENCE. 279 
 
 regret that a man of your qualifications should find it necessary 
 to seek an establishment in Guadaloupe, which if a peace 
 should restore to the French, I shall think it some alleviation 
 of the loss, that it must restore likewise Dr. Staunton to the 
 English. 
 
 " It is a melancholy consideration, that so much of our time 
 is necessarily to be spent upon the care of living, and that we 
 can seldom obtain ease in one respect but by resigning it in 
 another : yet I suppose we are by this dispensation not less 
 happy in the whole, than if the spontaneous bounty of Nature 
 poured all that we want into our hands. A few, if they were 
 left thus to themselves, would, perhaps, spend their time in 
 laudable pursuits ; but the greater part would prey upon the 
 quiet of each other, or, in want of other objects, would prey 
 upon themselves. 
 
 " This, however, is our condition, which we must improve and 
 solace as we can : and though we cannot choose always our 
 place of residence, we may in every place find rational amuse- 
 ments, and possess in every place the comforts of piety and 
 a pure conscience. 
 
 " In America there is little to be observed except natural 
 curiosities. The new world must have many vegetables and 
 animals with which philosophers are but little acquainted. 
 I hope you will furnish yourself with some books of natural 
 history, and some glasses and other instruments of observation. 
 Trust as little as you can to report ; examine all you can by your 
 own senses. I do not doubt but you will be able to add much 
 to knovv^ledge, and, perhaps, to medicine. Wild nations trust 
 to simples ; and, perhaps, the Peruvian bark is not the only 
 specifick which those extensive regions may afford us. 
 
 " Wherever you are, and whatever be your fortune, be certain, 
 dear Sir, that you carry with you my kind wishes ; and that 
 v/hether you return hither or stay in the other hemisphere, to 
 hear that you are happy will give pleasure to, Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate humble Servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "June I, 1762." 
 
 of his fortune. He, however, had acquired Lord Macartney's friendship, and 
 he accompanied his Lordship to Madras in 1781 ; and for his distinguished 
 services during his official residence there had a pension of ^500 per annum 
 settled on him, in 1784, by the East India Company, and was created a 
 baronet. When Lord Macartney was selected for the celebrated embassy 
 to China, Sir George was named to accompany him as secretary and minister 
 plenipotentiar}^ His splendid account of that embassy is well known. He 
 died in London, January 14, 1801, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. — 
 Croker.]
 
 28o BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1762. 
 
 A lady having at this time solicited him to obtain the Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury's patronage to have her son sent to the 
 University, one of those solicitations which are too frequent, 
 where people, anxious for a particular object, do not consider 
 propriety, or the opportunity which the persons whom they 
 solicit have to assist them, he wrote to her the following an- 
 swer; with a copy of which I am favoured by the Reverend 
 Dr. Farmer,^ Master of Emanuel College, Cambridge. 
 
 " Madam, 
 
 ' I HOPE you will believe that my delay in answering your 
 letter could proceed only from my unwillingness to destroy any 
 hope that you had formed. Hope is itself a species of happiness, 
 and, perhaps, the chief happiness which this world affords : but 
 like all other pleasures immoderately enjoyed, the excesses of 
 hope must be expiated by pain ; and expectations improperly 
 indulged, must end in disappointment. If it be asked, what 
 is the improper expectation which it is dangerous to indulge, 
 experience will quickly answer, that it is such expectation as 
 is dictated not by reason, but by desire ; expectation raised, 
 not by the common occurrences of life, but by the wants of the 
 expectant ; an expectation that requires the common course 
 of things to be changed, and the general rules of action to 
 be broken. 
 
 " When you made your request to me, you should have con- 
 sidered, Madam, what you were asking. You ask me to solicit 
 a great man, to whom I never spoke, for a young person whom 
 I had never seen, upon a supposition which I had no means of 
 knowing to be true. There is no reason why, amongst all the 
 great, I should chuse to supplicate the Archbishop, nor why, 
 among all the possible objects of his bounty, the Archbishop 
 should chuse your son. I know. Madam, how unwillingly con- 
 viction is admitted, when interest opposes it ; but surely, Madam, 
 you must allow, that there is no reason why that should be done 
 by me, which every other man may do with equal reason, and 
 which, indeed, no man can do properly, without some very 
 particular relation both to the Archbishop and to you. If I 
 
 ^ [Dr. Richard Farmer was born at Leicester, ih 1735, and educated at 
 Emanuel College, Cambridge, of which he became Master in 1775. In 1766 
 he published his celebrated " Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare : " a 
 work by which, as Dr. Warton emphatically expresses it, " an end is put for 
 ever to the dispute concerning the Learning of Shakspeare." He died 
 Sept. 6, 1797.— Croker.]
 
 Age 53.] CORRESPONDENCE— LETTER TO BARETTI. 2S1 
 
 could help you in this exigence by any proper means, it would 
 give me pleasure ; but this proposal is so very remote from 
 usual methods, that I cannot comply with it, but at the risk of 
 such answer and suspicions as I believe you do not wish me 
 to undergo. 
 
 " I have seen your son this morning ; he seems a pretty youth, 
 and will, perhaps, find some better friend than I can procure 
 him ; but though he should at last miss the University, he may 
 still be wise, useful, and happy. 
 
 " I am, Madam, your most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. . 
 
 "Junes, 1762." 
 
 "TO :\IR. JOSEPH BARETTI, AT MILAN. 
 
 " London, July 20th, 1762. \ 
 
 "SIR, 
 " However justly you may accuse me for want of punctuality 
 in correspondence, I am not so far lost in negligence as to omit 
 the opportunity of writing to you. which Mr. Beauclerk's passage 
 through Milan affords me. 
 
 " I suppose you received the Idlers, and I intend that you 
 shall soon receive Shakspeare, that you may explain his works 
 to the ladies of Italy, and tell them the story of the editor, 
 among the other strange narratives with which your long 
 residence in this unknown region has supplied you. 
 
 " As you have now been long away, I suppose your curiosity 
 may pant for some news of your old friends. Miss Williams and 
 I live much as we did. Miss Cotterel still continues to cling 
 to Mrs. Porter, and Charlotte is now big of the fourth child. ^ 
 Mr. Reynolds gets six thousand a year. Levet -is lately 
 married, not without much suspicion that he has been wretchedly 
 cheated in his miatch.^ Mr, Chambers is gone this day, for 
 
 1 [Mrs. Porter, the actress, lived some time with Mrs. Cotterel and her 
 eldest daughter. The younger Miss Cotterel (Charlotte), had married the 
 Rev. John Lewis, who became Dean of Ossory in 1755. — Croker.] 
 
 2 [" Levett married, when he was near sixty, a woman of the town, who had 
 persuaded him (notwithstanding their place of congress was a small coal shed 
 in Fetter Lane) that she was nearly related to a man of fortune, but was kept 
 by him out of large possessions. Johnson used to say, that, compared with 
 the marvels of this transaction, the Arabian Nights seemed familiar occur- 
 rences. Never was hero more completely duped. He had not been married 
 four months before a writ was taken out against him for debts contracted by 
 his wife. He was secreted, and his friends then procured him a protection 
 from a foreign minister. In a short time afterwards she ran away from him. 
 and was tried for picking pockets at the Old Bailey. She pleaded her own 
 cause, and was acquitted ; a separation took place : and Johnson then took 
 Levett home, where he continued till his death." — Steevens. — Croker.]
 
 2S2 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 the first time, the circuit with the Judges. Mr. Richardson ^ 
 is dead of an apoplexy, and his second daughter has married 
 a merchant.^ 
 
 " My vanity, or my kindness, makes me flatter myself, that 
 you would rather hear of me than of those whom I have 
 mentioned ; but of myself I have very little which I care to tell. 
 Last winter I went down to my native town, where I found the 
 streets much narrower and shorter than I thought I had left 
 them, inhabited by a new race of people, to whom I was very 
 little known. My play-fellows were grown old, and forced me to 
 suspect that I was no longer young. My only remaining friend 
 has changed his principles, and was become the tool of the 
 predominant faction. My daughter-in-law, from whom I ex- 
 pected most, and whom I met with sincere benevolence, has 
 lost the beauty and gaiety of youth, without having gained 
 much of the wisdom of age. I wandered about for five days, 
 and took the first convenient opportunity of returning to a 
 place, where, if there is not much happiness, there is, at least, 
 such a diversity of good and evil, that slight vexations do not 
 fix upon the heart. 
 
 " I think in a few weeks to try another excursion ; though to 
 what end '>. Let me know, my Baretti, what has been the result 
 of your return to your own country : whether time has made 
 any alteration for the better, and whether, when the first raptures 
 of salutation were over, you did not find your thoughts confessed 
 their disappointment. 
 
 " Moral sentences appear ostentatious and tumid, when they 
 have no greater occasions than the journey of a wit to his own 
 town : yet such pleasures and such pains make up the general 
 mass of life; and as nothing is little to him that feels it with 
 great sensibility, a mind able to see common incidents in their 
 real state, is disposed by very common incidents to very serious 
 contemplations. Let us trust that a time will come, when the 
 present moment shall be no longer irksome ; when we shall not 
 borrow all our happiness from hope, which at last is to end in 
 disappointment. 
 
 " 1 beg that you will show Mr. Beauclerk all the civilities 
 which you have in your power ; for he has always been kind 
 to me. 
 
 " I have lately seen Mr. Stratico, Professor of Padua, who has 
 told me of your quarrel with an Abbot of the Celestine order; 
 
 ' [Samuel Richardson, the authour of Clarissa, Sir Charles Grandison, (S:c. 
 He died July 4, 1761, aged 72 — MaLONE.] 
 
 - [Martha, his chief amanuensis, married Edward Bridgen, April, 1762. — 
 Croker.]
 
 Age 53.] THE PENSION FROM GEORGE III. 283 
 
 but had not the particulars very ready in his memory. When 
 you write to Mr. MarsiH, let him know that I remember him 
 with kindness. 
 
 " May you, my Baretti, be very happy at Milan, or some other 
 place nearer to, Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate humble Servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson," 
 
 The accession of George the Third to the throne of these 
 kingdoms, opened a new and brighter prospect to men of 
 literary merit, who had been honoured with no mark of royal 
 favour in the preceding reign. His present Majesty's education 
 in this country, as well as his taste and beneficence, prompted 
 him to be the patron of science and the arts ; and early this 
 year, Johnson having been represented to him as a very learned 
 and good man, without any certain provision, his Majesty was 
 pleased to grant him a pension of three hundred pounds a year. 
 The Earl of Bute, who was then Prime Minister, had the honour 
 to announce this instance of his Sovereign s bounty, concerning 
 which, many and various stories, all equally erroneous, have 
 been propagated ; maliciously representing it as a political 
 bribe to Johnson, to desert his avowed principles, and become 
 the tool of a Government which he held to be founded 
 in usurpation. I have taken care to have it in my power to 
 refute them from the most authentick information. Lord Bute 
 told me, that Mr. Wedderburne, now Lord Loughborough, was 
 the person who first mentioned this subject to him. Lord 
 Loughborough told me, that the pension was granted to 
 Johnson solely as the reward of his I'terary merit, without 
 any stipulation whatever, or even tacit understanding that he 
 should write for the administration. His Lordship added, that he 
 was confident the political tracts which Johnson afterwards did 
 write, as they were entirely consonant with his own opinions 
 would have been written by him, though no pension had been 
 granted to him. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Sheridan and I\Ir. Murphy, who then lived a 
 good deal both with him and Mr. Wedderburne, told me, that 
 they previously talked with Johnson upon this matter, and that 
 it was perfectly understood by all parties that the pension wa?
 
 284 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1762. 
 
 merely honorary. Sir Joshua Reynolds told me, that Johnson 
 called on him after his Majesty's intention had been notified to 
 him, and said he wished to consult his friends as to the propriety 
 of his accepting this mark of the royal favour, after the definitions 
 which he had given in his Dictionary of pension and pensioners} 
 He said he should not have Sir Joshua's answer till next day, 
 when he would call again, and desired he might think of it. 
 Sir Joshua answered that he was clear to give his opinion then, 
 that there could be no objection to his receiving from the King 
 a reward for literary merit ; and that certainly the definitions in 
 his Dictionary were not applicable to him. Johnson, it should 
 seem, was satisfied, for he did not call again till he had accepted 
 the pension, and had waited on Lord Bute to thank him. He 
 then told Sir Joshua that Lord Bute said to him expressly, " It 
 is not given you for anything you are to do, but for what you 
 have done." His Lordship, he said, behaved in the handsomest 
 manner. He repeated the words twice, that he might be sure 
 Johnson heard them, and thus set his mind perfectly at ease. This 
 nobleman, who has been so virulently abused, acted with great 
 honour in this instance, and displayed a mind truly liberal. A 
 minister of a more narrow and selfish disposition would have 
 availed himself of such an opportunity to fix an implied 
 obligation on a man of Johnson's powerful talents to give 
 him his support. 
 
 Mr. Murphy and the late Mr. Sheridan severally contended 
 for the distinction of having been the first who mentioned to 
 Mr. Wedderburne that Johnson ought to have a pension.^ 
 
 1 [" Pension. An allowance made to any one without an equivalent. In 
 England it is generally understood to mean pay given to a state hireling for 
 treason to his country." 
 
 " Pensioner. A slave of state hired by a stipend to obey his master."] 
 - [This is not correct. Mr. Murphy did not " contest this distinction " 
 with Mr. Sheridan. He claimed, we see, not the first suggestion to Lord 
 Loughborough, but the first notice/;w;z his Lordship to Johnson. His words 
 arc : " Lord Loughborough, who, perhaps, was originally a mover in the 
 business, had authority to mention it. He was w^ell acquainted with 
 Johnson ; but, having heard much of his independent spirit, and of the down- 
 fall of Osborne, the bookseller, he did not know but his benevolence might 
 be rewarded with a folio on his head. He desired the authour of these 
 Memoirs to undertake the task. This writer thought the opportunity of 
 doing so much good the most happy incident of his life. He went, without
 
 Age 53.] JOHNSON ACCEPTS A PENSION. 285 
 
 When I spoke of this to Lord Loughborough, wishing to 
 know if he recollected the prime mover in the business, he 
 said, " All his friends assisted ; " and when I told him that Mr, 
 Sheridan strenuously asserted his claim to it, his Lordship said, 
 " He rang the bell,"' And it is but just to add, that Mr, Sheridan 
 told me, that when he communicated to Dr. Johnson that a 
 pension was to be granted him, he replied in a fervour of 
 gratitude, " The English language does not afford me terms 
 adequate to my feelings on this occasion. I must have recourse 
 to the French. I am penetre with his Majesty's goodness." 
 When I repeated this to Dr. Johnson, he did not contradict it. 
 
 His definitions oi pension zxiA pensioner, partly founded on the 
 satirical verses of Pope, which he quotes, may be generally true ; 
 and yet every body must allow, that there may be, and have 
 been, instances of pensions given and received upon liberal and 
 honourable terms. Thus, then, it is clear, that there was 
 nothing inconsistent or humiliating in Johnson's accepting 
 of a pension so unconditionally and so honourably offered 
 to him. 
 
 But I shall not detain my readers longer by any words of my 
 own, on a subject on which I am happily enabled, by the favour 
 of the Earl of Bute, to present them with what Johnson himself 
 wrote ; his lordship having been pleased to communicate to me 
 a copy of the following letter to his late father, which does great 
 honour both to the writer, and to the noble person to whom it 
 is addressed : 
 
 " TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF BUTE. 
 
 "MY LORD, 
 
 " When the bills were yesterday delivered to me by Mr. 
 Wedderburne, I was informed by him of the future favours which 
 
 delay, to the chambers in the Inner Temple Lane, which, in fact, were the 
 abode of wretchedness. By slow and studied approaches the message was 
 disclosed. Johnson made a long pause : he asked if it was seriously intended ? 
 He fell into a profound meditation, and his own definition of a pensioner 
 occurred to him. He was told ' that he, at least, did not come within the 
 definition.' He desired to meet next day, and dine at the Mitre Tavern. At 
 that meeting he gave up all his scruples. On the following day Lord 
 Loughborough conducted him to the Earl of Bute." — Murphy, p. 92 — 
 Crokkr]
 
 286 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1762. 
 
 his Majesty has, by your Lordship's recommendation, been 
 induced to intend for me. 
 
 " Bounty always receives part of its value from the manner in 
 which it is bestowed ; your Lordship's kindness includes every 
 circumstance that can gratify delicacy, or enforce obligation. 
 You have conferred your favours on a man who has neither 
 alliance nor interest, who has not merited them by services, nor 
 courted them by officiousness ; you have spared him the shame 
 of solicitation, and the anxiety of suspense. 
 
 " What has been thus elegantly given, will, I hope, not be 
 reproachfully enjoyed ; I shall endeavour to give your Lordship 
 the only recompense which generosity desires, — the gratification 
 of finding that your benefits are not improperly bestowed. I 
 am, my Lord, 
 
 " Your Lordship's most obliged, 
 " Most obedient, and most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson.^ 
 
 "July 20, 1762." 
 
 This year, his friend, Sir Joshua Reynolds, paid a visit of 
 some weeks to his native country, Devonshire, in which he was 
 accompanied by Johnson, who was much pleased with this jaunt, 
 and declared he had derived from it a great accession of new 
 
 ^ [" The addition of three hundred pounds a year to what Johnson was able 
 to earn by the ordinary exercise of his talents, raised him to a state of 
 comparative affluence, and afforded him the means of assisting many whose 
 real or pretended wants had formerly excited his compassion. He now 
 practised a rule w^hich he often recommended to his friends, always to go 
 abroad with some loose money to give to beggars, imitating therein, though 
 certainly without intending it, that good but weak man, old Mr. Whiston, 
 whom I have seen distributing, in the streets, money to beggars on each hand 
 of him, till his pocket was nearly exhausted." — Hawkins. "He loved the 
 poor as I never yet saw any one else do, with an earnest desire to make them 
 happy. What signifies, says some one, giving halfpence to common beggars ? 
 they only lay it out in gin or tobacco. ' And why (says Johnson) should they 
 be denied such sweeteners of their existence ? it is surely very savage to refuse 
 them every possible avenue to pleasure, reckoned too coarse for our own 
 acceptance. Life is a pill which none of us can bear to swallow without 
 gilding ; yet for the poor we delight in stripping it still barer, and are not 
 ashamed to show even visible displeasure, if ever the bitter taste is taken 
 from their mouths.' In pursuance of this principle he nursed whole nests of 
 people in his house, where the lame, the blind, the sick, and the sorrowful 
 found a sure retreat from all the evils whence his little income could secure 
 them." — Fiozzi. " When visiting Lichfield, towards the latter part of his 
 life, he was accustomed, on his arrival, to deposit with Miss Porter as much 
 cash as would pay his expenses back to London. He could not trust him- 
 self with his own money, as he felt himself unable to resist the importunity 
 of the numerous claimants on his benevolence."' — Hat-wood. — Croker.]
 
 Age 53-] WITH REYNOLDS TO DEVONSHIRE. 287 
 
 ideas. He was entertained at the seats of several noblemen and 
 gentlemen in the west of England ;i but the greatest part of this 
 time was passed at Plymouth, where the magnificence of the 
 navy, the ship-building and all its circumstances, afforded him 
 a grand subject of contemplation. The Commissioner of the 
 Dock-yard paid him the compliment of ordering the yacht to 
 convey him and his friend to the Eddystone, to which they 
 accordingly sailed. But the weather was so tempestuous that 
 they could not land. 
 
 Reynolds and he were at this time the guests of Dr. Mudge, 
 the celebrated surgeon, and now physician of that place, not 
 more distinguished for quickness of parts and variety of know- 
 ledge, than loved and esteemed for his amiable manners ; ^ and 
 here Johnson formed an acquaintance with Dr. Mudge's father, 
 that very eminent divine, the Reverend Zachariah Mudge, 
 Prebendary of Exeter, who was idolised in the west, both for 
 his excellence as a preacher and the uniform perfect propriety of 
 his private conduct. He preached a sermon purposely that 
 Johnson might hear him ; and we shall see afterwards that 
 Johnson honoured his memory by drawing his character.^' 
 While Johnson was at Plymouth, he saw a great many of its 
 inhabitants, and was not sparing of his very entertaining 
 
 1 At one of these seats Dr. Amyat, Physician in London, told me he 
 happened to meet him. In order to amuse him till dinner should be ready, 
 he was taken out to walk in the garden. The master of the house thinking 
 it proper to introduce something scientifick into the conversation, addressed 
 him thus: "Are you a botanist. Dr. Johnson?" "No, Sir, (answered 
 Johnson,) I am not a botanist ; and (alluding, no doubt, to his near-sighted- 
 ness), should I wish to become a botanist, I must first turn myself into a 
 reptile." 
 
 - [Dr. John Mudge died in 1791. He was the father of Colonel William 
 Mudge, distinguished by his trigonometrical survey of England and Wales, 
 carried on by order of the Ordnance. — Wright.] 
 
 ■* [See/(?i/, March, 1781. "I have heard Sir Joshua declare, that Air. Z. 
 Mudge was, in his opinion, the wisest man he ever met with, and that 
 he had intended to have republished his Sermons, and written a sketch of 
 his life and character." — Northcote. Thomas Mudge, the celebrated watch- 
 maker of Fleet Street, who made considerable improvements in time-keepers, 
 and wrote several pamphlets on that subject, was another son of Mr. 
 Zachariah Mudge. He died in 1794. — Croker. One of Reynolds's best 
 portraits is a head of Zachariah Mudge, and one of Chantrey's best busts a 
 trajtslation of it into marble ; part of a monument to Mudge's memory 
 erected in the church of St. Andrew's, Plymouth. — P. Cunningham.]
 
 288 
 
 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1762. 
 
 conversation. It was here that he made that frank and truly 
 original confession, that "ignorance, pure ignorance," was the 
 cause of a wrong definition in his Dictionary of the word pastern, 
 to the no small surprise of the Lady who put the question to 
 him ; who, having the most profound reverence for his character, 
 so as almost to suppose him endowed with infallibility, expected 
 to hear an explanation (of what, to be sure, seemed strange to a 
 common reader) drawn from some deep-learned source with 
 which she was unacquainted. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds, to whom I was obliged for my 
 information concerning this excursion, mentions a very charac- 
 teristical anecdote of Johnson while at Plymouth. Having 
 observed, that in consequence of the Dock-yard, a new town had 
 arisen about two miles off as a rival to the old ; and knowing 
 from his sagacity, and just observation of human nature, that it 
 is certain if a man hates at all, he will hate his next neighbour ; 
 he concluded that this new and rising town could not but excite 
 the envy and jealousy of the old, in which conjecture he was 
 very soon confirmed ; he therefore set himself resolutely on the 
 side of the old town, the established town, in which his lot was 
 cast, considering it as a kind of duty to stand by it. He 
 accordingly entered warmly into its interests, and upon every 
 occasion talked of the dockers, as the inhabitants of the new 
 town were called, as upstarts and ahens. Plymouth is very 
 plentifully supplied with water by a river brought into it from a 
 great distance, which is so abundant that it runs to waste in the 
 town. The Dock, or New-town, being totally destitute of water, 
 petitioned Plymouth that a small portion of the conduit might 
 be permitted to go to them, and this was now under consider- 
 ation. Johnson affecting to entertain the passions of the place, 
 was violent in opposition ; and half laughing at himself for his 
 pretended zeal, where he had no concern, exclaimed, " No, no ! 
 I am against the dockers ; I am a Plymouth man. Rogues ! let 
 them die of thirst. They shall not have a drop ! " ^ 
 
 1 [A friend of mine once heard him, during this visit, exclaim with' the 
 utmost vehemence," I hate a Docker." — Blakeway. Dock is now absurdly 
 enough called Devonport. — Croker.]
 
 Age 53.] LETTER TO LORD BUTE. 289 
 
 Lord Macartney obligingly favoured me with a copy of the 
 following letter, in his own hand-writing, from the original, which 
 was found, by the present Earl of Bute, among his father's 
 papers. 
 
 "TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF BUTE. 
 
 "MY LORD, 
 
 "That generosity oy which I was recommended to the 
 favour of his Majesty, will not be offended at a solicitation 
 necessary to make that favour permanent and effectual. 
 
 " The pension appointed to be paid me at Michaelmas I have 
 not received, and know not where or from whom I am to ask it. 
 I beg, therefore, that your lordship will be pleased to supply 
 Mr. Wedderburne with such directions as may be necessary, 
 which, I believe, his friendship will make him think it no trouble 
 to convey to me. 
 
 " To interrupt your lordship at a time like this, with such 
 petty difficulties, is improper and unseasonable ; but your know- 
 ledge of the world has long since taught you, that every man's 
 affairs, however little, are important to himself. Every man 
 hopes that he shall escape neglect ; and, with reason, may every 
 man, whose vices do not preclude his claim, expect favour from 
 that beneficence which has been extended to, my Lord, 
 " Your Lordship's most obliged, 
 
 "And most humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " Temple-Lane, 
 "Nov. 3, 1762." 
 
 TO MR. JOSEPH BARETTI,'AT MILAN. 
 
 "London, Dec. 21, 1762. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " You are not to suppose, with all your conviction of my 
 idleness, that I have passed all this time without writing to my 
 Baretti. I gave a letter to Mr. Beauclerk, who in my opinion, 
 and in his own, was hastening to Naples for the recovery of his 
 health ; but he has stopped at Paris, and I know not when he 
 will proceed. Langton is with him. 
 
 " I will not trouble you with speculations about peace and 
 war. The good or ill success of battles and embassies extends 
 itself to a very small part of domestick life : we all have good 
 and evil, which we feel more sensibly than our petty part of 
 publick miscarriage or prosperity. I am sorry for your 
 disappointment, with which you seem more touched than 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1762-63. 
 
 I should expect a man of your resolution and experience to 
 have been, did I not know that general truths are seldom applied 
 to particular occasions ; and the fallacy of our self-love extends 
 itself as wide as our interest or affections. Every man believes 
 that mistresses are unfaithful, and patrons capricious ; but he 
 excepts his own mistress and his own patron. We have all 
 learned that greatness is negligent and contemptuous, and that 
 in Courts life is often languished away in ungratified expect- 
 ation ; but he that approaches greatness, or glitters in a Court, 
 imagines that destiny has at last exempted him from the 
 common lot. 
 
 " Do not let such evils overwhelm you as thousands have 
 suffered, and thousands have surmounted ; but turn your 
 thoughts with vigour to some other plan of life, and keep 
 always in your mind, that, with due submission to Providence, 
 a man of genius has been seldom ruined but by himself. Your 
 Patron's weakness or insensibility will finally do you little hurt, 
 if he is not assisted by your own passions. Of your love I know 
 not the propriety, nor can estimate the power ; but in love, as in 
 every other passion of which hope is the essence, we ought 
 always to remember the uncertainty of events. There is, indeed, 
 nothing that so much seduces reason from vigilance, as the 
 thought of passing life with an amiable woman ; and if all would 
 happen that a lover fancies, I know not what other terrestrial 
 happiness would deserve pursuit. But love and marriage are 
 different states. Those who are to suffer the evils together,^ and 
 to suffer often for the sake of one another, soon lose that 
 tenderness of look, and that benevolence of mind, which arose 
 from the participation of unmingled pleasure and successive 
 amusement. A woman, we are sure, will not be always fair; 
 we are not sure she will always be virtuous : and man cannot 
 retain through life that respect and assiduity by which he 
 pleases for a day or for a month. I do not, however, pretend to 
 have discovered that life has anything more to be desired than 
 a prudent and virtuous marriage ; therefore know not what 
 counsel to give you. 
 
 "If you can quit your imagination of love and greatness, and 
 leave your hopes of preferment and bridal raptures to try once 
 more the fortune of literature and industry, the way through 
 PVance is now open. We flatter ourselves that we shall cultivate, 
 with great diligence, the arts of peace ; and every man will be 
 
 1 [Johnson probably wrote "the evils of life together." The words in 
 Italicks, however, are not found in Baretti's original edition of this letter, 
 but they may have been omitted inadvertently either in his transcript or at 
 the press.— Malone.]
 
 Age 53-54.] LETTER TO BARETTI. 291 
 
 welcome among us who can teach us any thing we do not know. 
 For your part, you will find all your old friends willing to 
 receive you. 
 
 " Reynolds still continues to increase in reputation and in 
 riches. Miss Williams, who very much loves you, goes on in the 
 old way. Miss Cotterel is still with Mrs. Porter. Miss Charlotte 
 is married to Dean Lewis, and has three children. Mr. Levet 
 has married a street-walker. But the gazette of my narration 
 must now arrive to tell you, that Bathurst went physician to the 
 army, and died at the Havannah. 
 
 " I know not whether I have not sent you word that Huggins 
 and Richardson are both dead. When we see our enemies and 
 friends gliding away before us, let us not forget that we are 
 subject to the general law of mortality, and shall soon be where 
 our doom will be fixed for ever. 
 
 " I pray GOD to bless you, and am, Sir, 
 " Your most affectionate humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 " Write soon." 
 
 In 1763 he furnished to the " Poetical Calendar," published 
 by Fawkes and Woty, a character of Collins,* which he after- 
 wards ingrafted into his entire life of that admirable poet, in the 
 collection of lives which he wrote for the body of English 
 poetry, formed and published by the booksellers of London. 
 His account of the melancholy depression with which Collins 
 was severely afflicted, and which brought him to his grave, is, I 
 think, one of the most tender and interesting passages in the 
 whole series of his writings. He also favoured Mr. Hoole with 
 the Dedication of his translations of Tasso to the Queen,* 
 which is so happily conceived and elegantly expressed, that I 
 cannot but point it out to the peculiar notice of my readers.^ 
 
 1 "Madam, 
 "To approach the high and illustrious has been in all ages the privilege 
 of Poets ; and though translators cannot justly claim the same honour, yet 
 they naturally follow their authours as attendants ; and I hope that in return 
 for having enabled Tasso to diffuse his fame through the British dominions, 
 I may be introduced by him to the presence of YOUR Majesty. 
 
 "Tasso has a peculiar claim to Your Majesty's favour, as follower and 
 panegyrist of the House of Este, which has one common ancestor with tha 
 House of Hanover; and in reviewing his life it is not easy to forbear a 
 wish that he had lived in a happier time, when he might among the 
 
 U 2
 
 292 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 This is to me a memorable year ; for in it I had the happiness 
 to obtain the acquaintance of that extraordinary man whose 
 memoirs I am now writing ; an acquaintance which I shall ever 
 esteem as one of the most fortunate circumstances in my life. 
 Though then but two-and-twenty, I had for several years read 
 his works with delight and instruction, and had the highest 
 reverence for their authour, which had grown up in my fancy 
 into a kind of mysterious veneration, by figuring to myself a 
 state of solemn elevated abstraction, in which I supposed him 
 to live in the immense metropolis of London. Mr. Gentleman,' 
 a native of Ireland, who passed some years in Scotland as a 
 player, and as an instructor in the English language, a man 
 whose talents and worth were depressed by misfortunes, had 
 given me a representation of the figure and manner of 
 Dictionary Johnson ! as he was then generally called ;2 and 
 during my first visit to London, which was for three months in 
 1760, Mr. Derrick, the poet, who was Gentleman's friend and 
 countryman, flattered me with hopes that he would introduce 
 me to Johnson, an honour of which I was very ambitious. But 
 
 descendants of that illustrious family have found a more liberal and potent 
 patronage. 
 
 " I cannot but observe, Madam, how unequally reward is proportioned to 
 merit, when I reflect that the happiness which was withheld from Tasso is 
 reserved for me ; and that the poem which once hardly procured to its 
 authour the countenance of the Princes of Ferrara, has attracted to its 
 translator the favourable notice of a BRITISH QUEEN. 
 
 "Had this been the fate of Tasso, he would have been able to have 
 celebrated the condescension of Your Majesty in nobler language, but 
 could not have felt it with more ardent gratitude than, 
 
 "Madam, 
 
 " Your Majesty's 
 
 " Most faithful and devoted servant." 
 
 1 [Francis Gentleman was born in 1728, and educated in Dublin. His 
 father was an officer in the army, and he, at the age of fifteen, obtained a 
 commission in the same regiment ; on the reduction, at the peace of 1748, he 
 lost this profession, and adopted that of the stage, both as an author and an 
 actor; in neither of which did he attain any eminence. He died in 
 December, 1784 ; having, in the latter course of his life, experienced "all the 
 hardships of a wandering actor, and all the disappointments of a friendless 
 author."— Croker.] 
 
 2 As great men of antiquity such as Scipio Africanus\v2i(l an epithet added 
 to their names, in consequence of some celebrated action, so my illustrious 
 friend was often called Dictionary Johnson, from that wonderful achieve- 
 ment of genuis and labour, his " Dictionary of the English Language ;" the 
 merit of which I contemplate with more and more admiration.
 
 Age 54-] BOSWELL SEEKS INTRODUCTION TO JOHNSON. 293 
 
 he never found an opportunity ; which made me doubt that he 
 had promised to do what was not in his power ; till Johnson, 
 some years afterwards, told me, " Derrick, Sir, might very well 
 have introduced you. I had a kindness for Derrick, and am 
 sorry he is dead." 
 
 In the summer of 1761 Mr. Thomas Sheridan was at Edin- 
 burgh, and delivered lectures upon the English Language and 
 Publick Speaking to large and respectable audiences. I was 
 often in his company, and heard him. frequently expatiate upon 
 Johnson's extraordinary knowledge, talents, and virtues, repeat 
 his pointed sayings, describe his particularities, and boast of his 
 being his guest sometimes till two or three in the morning. At 
 his house I hoped to have many opportunities of seeing the 
 sage, as Mr. Sheridan obligingly assured me I should not be 
 disappointed. 
 
 When I returned to London in the end of 1762, to my surprise 
 and regret I found an irreconcileable difference had taken place 
 between Johnson and Sheridan. A pension of two hundred 
 pounds a year had been given to Sheridan. Johnson, who, as 
 has been already mentioned, thought slightingly of Sheridan's art, 
 upon hearing that he was also pensioned, exclaimed " What ! have 
 they given Jiini a pension } Then it is time for me to give up 
 mine." Whether this proceeded from a momentary indignation, 
 as if it were an affront to his exalted merit that a player should 
 be rewarded in the same manner with him, or was the sudden 
 effect of a fit of peevishness, it was unluckily said, and, indeed, 
 cannot be justified. Mr. Sheridan's pension was granted to 
 him not as a player, but as a sufferer in the cause of govern- 
 ment, when he was manager of the Theatre Royal in Ireland, 
 when parties ran high in 1753. And it must also be allowed 
 that he was a man of literature, and had considerably im- 
 proved the arts of reading and speaking with distinctness 
 and propriety. 
 
 Besides, Johnson should have recollected that Mr, Sheridan 
 taught pronunciation to Mr. Alexander Wedderburne, whose 
 sister was married to Sir Harry Erskine, an intimate friend of 
 Lord Bute, who was the favourite of the King ; and surely the 
 most outrageous W'hig will not maintain, that whatever ought to
 
 294 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1763- 
 
 be the principle in the disposal of offices, a pension ought never 
 to be granted from any bias of court connection. Mr. Macklin, 
 indeed, shared with Mr. Sheridan the honour of instructing Mr. 
 Wedderburne ; and though it was too late in life for a Caledonian 
 to acquire the genuine English cadence, yet so successful were Mr. 
 Wedderburne's instructors, and his own unabating endeavours, 
 that he got rid of the coarse part of his Scotch accent, retaining 
 only as much of the " native wood-note wild " as to mark his 
 country ; which, if any Scotchman should affect to forget, I 
 should heartily despise him. Notwithstanding the difficulties 
 which are to be encountered by those who have not had the 
 advantage of an English education, he, by degrees, formed a 
 mode of speaking to which Englishmen do not deny the praise 
 of elegance. Hence his distinguished oratory, which he exerted 
 in his own country as an advocate in the Court of Session, and 
 a ruling elder of the Kirk, has had its fame and ample reward 
 in much higher spheres. When I look back on this noble person 
 at Edinburgh, in situations so unworthy of his brilliant powers, 
 and behold LORD LOUGHBOROUGH at London, the change 
 seems almost like one of the metamorphoses in Ovid, and 
 as his two preceptors, by refining his utterance, gave currency 
 to his talents, we may say, in the words of that poet, '■'Nam 
 vos imitastis." 
 
 I have dwelt the longer upon this remarkable instance of 
 successful parts and assiduity ; because it affords animating 
 encouragement to other gentlemen of North-Britain to try their 
 fortunes in the southern part of the island, where they may hope 
 to gratify their utmost ambition ; and now that we are one 
 people of the Union, it would surely be il'liberal to maintain, 
 that they have not an equal title with the natives of any other 
 part of his Majesty's dominions. 
 
 Johnson complained that a man who disliked him repeated his 
 sarcasm to Mr. Sheridan, without telling him what followed, 
 which was, that after a pause he added, " However, I am glad 
 that Mr. Sheridan has a pension, for he is a very good man." 
 Sheridan could never forgive his hasty contemptuous expression. 
 It rankled in his mind ; for though I informed him of all that John- 
 son said, and that he would be very glad to meet him amicably,
 
 Age 54.] JOHNSON AND THOMAS SHERIDAN. 295 
 
 he positively declined repeated offers which I made, and once 
 went off abruptly from a house where he and I were engaged 
 to dine, because he was told that Dr. Johnson was to be there. 
 I have no sympathetick feeling with such persevering resentment. 
 It is painful when there is a breach between those who have 
 lived together socially and cordially ; and I wonder that there is 
 not, in all such cases, a mutual wish that it should be healed. 
 I could perceive that Mr. Sheridan was by no means satisfied 
 with Johnson's acknowledging him to be a good man. That 
 could not sooth his injured vanity. I could not but smile, 
 at the same time that I was offended, to observe Sheridan, in 
 The Life of Swift, which he afterwards published, attempting 
 in the writhings of his resentment, to depreciate Johnson, by 
 characterising him as " a writer of gigantick fame, in these days 
 of little men;" that very Johnson whom he once so highly 
 admired and venerated. 
 
 This rupture with Sheridan deprived Johnson of one of his 
 most agreeable resources for amusement in his lonely even- 
 ings ; for Sheridan's well-informed, animated, and bustling mind 
 never suffered conversation to stagnate ; and Mrs. Sheridan was 
 a most agreeable companion to an intellectual man. She was 
 sensible, ingenious, unassuming, yet communicative. I recollect, 
 with satisfaction, many pleasing hours which I passed with her 
 under the hospitable roof of her husband, who was to me a very 
 kind friend. Her novel, entitled " Memoirs of Miss Sidney 
 Biddulph," contains an excellent moral, while it inculcates a 
 future state of retribution ; ^ and what it teaches is impressed 
 
 1 My position has been very well illustrated by Mr. Belsham of Bedford, in 
 his Essay on Dramatick Poetry. "The fashionable doctrine (says he) both 
 of moralists and criticks in these times is, that virtue and happiness are con- 
 stant concomitants ; and it is regarded as a kind of dramatick impiety to 
 maintain that virtue should not be rewarded, nor vice punished, in the last 
 scene of the last act of every tragedy. This conduct in our modern poets is, 
 however, in my opinion, extremely injudicious ; for, it labours in vain to in- 
 culcate a doctrine in theory, which every one knows to be false in fact, viz. 
 that virtue in real life is always productive of happiness ; and vice of misery. 
 Thus Congreve concludes the Tragedy of ' The Mourning Bride' with the 
 following foolish couplet : 
 
 'For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, • 
 And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds.' 
 
 "When a man eminently virtuous, a Brutus, a Cato, or a Socrates, finally
 
 296 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 upon the mind by a series of as deep distress as can affect 
 humanity, in the amiable and pious heroine, who goes to her 
 grave unreheved, but resigned, and full of hope of "heaven's 
 mercy." Johnson paid her this high compliment upon it : "I 
 know not, Madam, that you have a right, upon moral principles, 
 to make your readers suffer so much." 
 
 Mr. Thomas Davies, the actor, who then kept a bookseller's 
 shop in Russell-street, Convent-garden,^ told me that Johnson was 
 very much his friend, and came frequently to his house, where he 
 more than once invited me to meet him ; but by some unlucky 
 accident or other he was prevented from coming to us. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Davies was a man of good understanding and 
 talents, with the advantage of a liberal education. Though 
 somewhat pompous, he was an entertaining companion ; and 
 his literary performances have no inconsiderable share of merit. 
 He was a friendly and very hospitable man. Both he and 
 his wife (who has been celebrated for her beauty), though 
 upon the stage for many years, maintained an uniform decency 
 of character; and Johnson esteemed them, and lived in as 
 easy an intimacy with them as with any family which he used 
 to visit. Mr. Davies recollected several of Johnson's remarkable 
 sayings, and was one of the best of the many imitators of his 
 voice and manner, while relating them. He increased my 
 
 sinks under the pressure of accumulated misfortune, we are not only led to 
 entertain a more indignant hatred of vice, than if he rose from his distress, 
 but we are inevitably induced to cherish the sublime idea that a day of future 
 retribution will arrive when he shall receive not merely poetical, but real and 
 substantial justice."— Essays Philosophical, Historical, and Literary, London, 
 1791, vol. ii. 8vo, p. 317. 
 
 This is well reasoned and well expressed. I wish, indeed, that the ingenious 
 authour had not thought it necessary to introduce Tiny instance o( "a man 
 eminently virtuous;" as he would then have avoided mentioning such a 
 ruffian as Brutus under that description. Mr. Belsham discovers in his 
 "Essays" so much reading, and thinking, and good composition, that 1 
 regret his not having been fortunate enough to be educated a member of our 
 excellent national establishment. Had he not been nursed in nonconformity, 
 he probably would not have been tainted with those heresies (as I sincerely, 
 and on no slight investigation, think them) both in religion and politicks, 
 which, while I read, I am sure, with candour, I cannot read without 
 offence. 
 
 1 No. 8. — The very place where I was fortunate enough to be introduced 
 to the illustrious subject of this work, deserves to be particularly marked. 
 I never pass by it without feeling reverence and regret.
 
 Age 54-] FIRST CONTACT OF BOS WELL WITH JOHNSON. 297 
 
 impatience more and more to see the extraordinary man whose 
 works I highly valued, and whose conversation was reported to 
 be so peculiarly excellent. 
 
 At last, on Monday the l6th of May, when I was sitting in 
 Mr. Davies's back-parlour, after having drunk tea with him 
 and Mrs. Davies, Johnson unexpectedly came into the shop;^ 
 and Mr. Davies having perceived him through the glass-door 
 in the room in which we were sitting, advancing towards us, — 
 he announced his awful approach to me, somewhat in the 
 manner of an actor in the part of Horatio, when he addresses 
 Hamlet on the appearance of his father's ghost, "Look, my 
 Lord, it comes ! " I found that I had a very perfect idea of 
 Johnson's figure, from the portrait of him painted by Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds soon after he had published his Dictionary, 
 in the attitude of sitting in his easy-chair in deep meditation ; 
 which was the first picture his friend did for him, which Sir 
 Joshua very kindly presented to me, and from which an engrav- 
 ing has been made for this work.^ Mr. Davies mentioned my 
 name, and respectfully introduced me to him. I was much 
 agitated ; and recollecting his prejudice against the Scotch, 
 of which I had heard much, I said to Davies, " Don't tell him 
 
 1 Mr. Murphy, in his "Essay on the Life and Genius of Dr. Johnson," has 
 given an account of this meeting considerably different from mine, I am 
 persuaded without any consciousness of errour. His memory, at the end of 
 near thirty years, has undoubtedly deceived him, and he supposes himself to 
 have been present at a scene, which he has probably heard inaccurately 
 described by others. In my note taken on the very day, in which I am 
 confident I marked every thing material that passed, no mention is made of 
 this gentleman ; and I am sure that I should not have omitted one so well 
 known in the literary world. It may easily be imagined that this my first 
 interview with Dr. Johnson, with all its circumstances, made a strong im- 
 pression on my mind, and would be registered with peculiar attention. 
 
 [It is remarkable, that m the editions of Murphy's Life of Johnson, published 
 subsequently to the appearance of this note, in 1791, he never corrected the 
 mis-statement here mentioned. — Maloxe.] 
 
 [Mr. Malone is mistaken here as to dates. The appearance of this note 
 could not be in 1791, as Murphy's Life was not published till 1793. The note 
 then appeared in Mr. Boswell's Second Edition, 3 vols, octavo. Mr. Murphy 
 had no subsequent connection with the publication, either of his Life ot 
 Johnson, or of Johnson's works. — CHALMERS.] 
 
 2 [This half-length of Johnson at a table, pen in hand, was painted in 1756, 
 and Reynolds must have painted it for himself, since he was able afterwards 
 to give it to Boswell, for whom it was engraved for publication with the Life. 
 The original is in Mr. Morrison's gallery at Basildon.]
 
 298 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 where I come from." — " From Scotland," cried Davies, roguishly. 
 "Mr. Johnson (said I), I do indeed come from Scotland, but 
 I cannot help it." I am willing to flatter myself that I meant 
 this as light pleasantry to sooth and conciliate him, and not 
 as an humiliating abasement at the expence of my country. 
 But however that might be, this speech was somewhat unlucky ; 
 for with that quickness of wit for which he was so remarkable, 
 he seized the expression, " come from Scotland," which I used 
 in the sense of being of that country ; and, as if I had said 
 that I had come away from it, or left it, retorted, " That, Sir, 
 I find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot 
 help." This stroke stunned me a good deal ; and when we had 
 sat down, I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and apprehensive 
 of what might come next. He then addressed himself to 
 Davies : " What do you think of Garrick } He has refused 
 me an order for the play for Miss Williams, because he knows 
 the house will be full, and that an order will be worth three 
 shillings." Eager to take any opening to get into conversation 
 with him, I ventured to say, " O Sir, I cannot think Mr. Garrick 
 would grudge such a trifle to you." " Sir, (said he with a stern 
 look,) I have known David Garrick longer than you have done ; 
 and I know no right you have to talk to me on the subject." 
 Perhaps I deserved this check ; for it was rather presumptuous 
 in me, an entire stranger, to express any doubt of the justice 
 of his animadversion upon his old acquaintance and pupil.^ I 
 now felt myself much mortified, and began to think that the hope 
 which I had long indulged of obtaining his acquaintance was 
 blasted. And, in truth, had not my ardour been uncommonly 
 strong, and my resolution uncommonly persevering, so rough 
 a reception might have deterred me for ever from making any 
 further attempts. Fortunately, however, I remained upon the 
 
 
 1 That this was a momentary sally against Garrick there can be no doubt ; 
 for at Johnson's desire he had, some years before, given a benefit night at his 
 theatre to this very person, by which she had got two hundred pounds.. 
 Johnson, indeed, upon all other occasions, when I was in his company, 
 praised the very liberal charity of Garrick. 1 once mentioned to him, "It 
 is observed, Sir, that you attack Garrick yourself, but will suffer nobody else 
 to do it." Johnson (smiling), "Why, Sir, that is true." [Did Boswell 
 never, like other men, playfully revile a friend whom he Avas ready to protect 
 against the slightest breath of censure from a stranger .?]
 
 Age 54.] JOHNSON'S FIRST TALK WITH BOS WELL. 299 
 
 field not wholly discomfited ; and was soon rewarded by hearing 
 some of his conversation, of which I preserved the following 
 short minute, without marking the questions and observations 
 by which it was produced. 
 
 " People (he remarked) may be taKen in once, who imagine 
 that an authour is greater in private life than other men. 
 Uncommon parts require uncommon opportunities for their 
 exertion." 
 
 " In barbarous society, superiority of parts is of real conse- 
 quence. Great strength or great wisdom is of much value to an 
 individual. But in more polished times there are people to do 
 everything for money ; and then there are a number of other 
 superiorities, such as those of birth, and fortune, and rank, 
 that dissipate men's attention, and leave no extraordinary 
 share of respect for personal and intellectual superiority. 
 This is wisely ordered by Providence, to preserve some 
 equality among mankind." 
 
 " Sir, this book (' The Elements of Criticism,' which he had 
 taken up) is a pretty essay, and deserves to be held in some 
 estimation, though much of it is chimerical." 
 
 Speaking of one who with more than ordinary boldness 
 attacked publick measures and the royal family, he said, 
 " I think he is safe from the law, but he is an abusive 
 scoundrel ; and instead of applying to my Lord Chief Justice 
 to punish him, I would send half a dozen footmen, and have 
 him well ducked." 
 
 "The notion of liberty amuses the people of England, and 
 helps to keep off the tcedhim vitce. When a butcher tells you 
 that Jiis heart bleeds for his country, he has, in fact, no uneasy 
 feeling." 
 
 " Sheridan will not succeed at Bath with his oratory. Ridi- 
 cule has gone down before him, and, I doubt. Derrick is his 
 enemy." 
 
 " Derrick may do very well, as long as he can outrun his 
 character ; but the moment his character gets up with him, it is 
 all over." 1 
 
 ^ Mr. Sheridan was then reading lectures upon Oratory at Bath, where 
 Derrick was Master of the Ceremonies ; or, as the phrase is, KiNG.
 
 300 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 It is, however, but just to record, that some years afterwards, 
 when I reminded him of this sarcasm, he said, " Well, but 
 Derrick has now got a character that he need not run away 
 from." 
 
 I was highly pleased with the extraordinary vigour of his 
 conversation, and regretted that I was drawn away from it by 
 an engagement at another place. I had, for a part of the 
 evening, been left alone with him, and had ventured to make 
 an observation now and then, which he received very civilly ; 
 so that I was satisfied that though there was a roughness in his 
 manner, there was no ill-nature in his disposition. Davies 
 followed me to the door, and when I complained to him a 
 little of the hard blows which the great man had given me, he 
 kindly took upon him to console me by saying, " Don't be 
 uneasy. I can see he likes you very well." 
 
 A few days afterwards I called on Davies, and asked him if 
 he thought I might take the liberty of waiting on Mr. Johnson 
 at his chambers in the Temple. He said I certainly might, 
 and that Mr. Johnson would take it as a compliment. So on 
 Tuesday, the 24th of May, after having been enlivened by the 
 witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton, Wilkes, Churchill, and 
 Lloyd, with whom I had passed the morning, I boldly repaired 
 to Johnson. His Chambers were on the first floor of No. i, 
 Inner-Temple-lane, and I entered them with an impression 
 given me by the Reverend Dr. Blair of Edinburgh, who had 
 been introduced to him not long before, and described his 
 having " found the Giant in his den ; " an expression which, 
 when I came to be pretty well acquainted with Johnson, I 
 repeated to him, and he was diverted at this picturesque 
 account of himself. Dr. Blair had been presented to him by 
 Dr. James Fordyce. At this time the controversy concerning 
 the pieces published by Mr. James Macpherson, as translations 
 from Ossian, was at its height. Johnson had all along denied 
 their authenticity ; and, what was still more provoking to their 
 admirers, maintained that they had no merit. The subject 
 having been introduced by Dr. Fordyce, Dr. Blair, relying on 
 the internal evidence of their antiquity, asked Dr. Johnson 
 whether he thought any man of a modern age could have
 
 Age 54.] FIRST VISIT TO JOHNSON'S CHAMBERS. 301 
 
 written such poems. Johnson replied, " Yes, Sir, many men, 
 many women, and many children." Johnson, at this time, did not 
 know that Dr. Blair ^ had just published a Dissertation, not only 
 defending their authenticity, but seriously ranking them with 
 the poems of Homer and Virgil ; and when he was afterwards 
 informed of this circumstance, he expressed some displeasure 
 at Dr. Fordyce's '^ having suggested the topick, and said, '* I 
 am not sorry that they got thus much for their pains. Sir, it 
 was like leading one to talk of a book, when the authour is 
 concealed behind the door." 
 
 He received me very courteously ; but, it must be confessed, 
 that his apartment, and furniture, and morning dress, were 
 sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of cloaths looked very 
 rusty ; he had on a little old shrivelled unpovvdered wig, which 
 was too small for his head ; his shirt-neck and knees of his 
 breeches were loose ; his black worsted stockings ill drawn 
 up ; and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers. 
 But all these slovenly particularities were forgotten the moment 
 that he began to talk. Some gentlemen, whom I do not recollect, 
 were sitting with him ; and when they went away, I also rose ; 
 but he said to me, " Nay, don't go." — " Sir, (said I,) I am afraid 
 that I intrude upon you. It is benevolent to allow me to sit 
 and hear you." He see-med pleased with this compliment, which 
 I sincerely paid him, and answered, " Sir, I am obliged to any 
 man who visits me." — I have preserved the following short 
 minute of what passed this day. 
 
 " Madness frequently discovers itself merely by unnecessary 
 deviation from the usual modes of the world. My poor friend 
 Smart shewed the disturbance of his mind, by falling upon his 
 knees, and saying his prayers in the street, or in any other 
 unusual place. Now although, rationally speaking, it is greater 
 madness not to pray at all, than to pray as Smart did, I am 
 afraid there are so many who do not pray, that their under- 
 standing is not called in question." 
 
 1 Dr. Hugh Blair, the celebrated professor and minister of Edinburgh ; 
 born in 1718, died in 1800. The Doctor's Dissertation on Ci-j/aw appeared in 
 1762. — Wright.] 
 
 2 [Dr. James Fordyce, author of Sermons to Yomig Women, &c., was born 
 at Aberdeen in 1720, and died at Bath in 1796, — Wright.]
 
 302 
 
 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1763. 
 
 Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher Smart, who was 
 confined in a madhouse, he had, at another time, the following 
 conversation with Dr. Burney. — BuRNEY. " How does poor 
 Smart do, Sir ; is he likely to recover ? " — Johnson. " It seems 
 as if his mind had ceased to struggle with the disease ; for he 
 grows fat upon it." — Burney. " Perhaps, Sir, that may be from 
 want of exercise." — JOHNSON. " No, Sir ; he has partly as much 
 exercise as he used to have, for he digs in the garden. Indeed 
 before his confinement, he used for exercise to walk to the 
 alehouse ; but he was carried back again. I did not think he 
 ought to be shut up. His infirmities were not noxious to society, 
 tie insisted on people praying with him ; and I'd as lief pray 
 with Kit Smart as any one else. Another charge was, that he 
 did not love clean linen ; and I have no passion for it." 
 
 Johnson continued. " Mankind have a great aversion to 
 intellectual labour ; but even supposing knowledge to be easily 
 attainable, more people would be content to be ignorant than 
 would take even a little trouble to acquire it. 
 
 " The morality of an action depends on the motive from which 
 we act. If I fling half a crown to a beggar with intention to 
 break his head, and he picks it up and buys victuals with it, the 
 physical effect is good ; but with respect to me the action is 
 very wrong. So, religious exercises, if not performed with an 
 intention to please GOD, avail us nothing. As our Saviour says 
 of those who perform them for other motives, ' Verily they have 
 their reward.' 
 
 " The Christian religion has very strong evidences. It indeed 
 appears, in some degree, strange to reason ; but in History we 
 have undoubted facts, against which, in reasoning a priori, we 
 have more arguments than we have for them ; but then, testi- 
 mony has great weight, and casts the balance. I would 
 recommend to every man whose faith is yet unsettled, Grotius, 
 — Dr. Pearson, — and Dr. Clarke." 
 
 Talking of Garrick, he said, " He is the first man in the world 
 for sprightly conversation." 
 
 When I rose a second time, he again pressed me to stay, 
 which I did. 
 
 He told me, that he generally w'ent abroad at four in the
 
 Age S4-] ACQUAINTANCESHIP ESTABLISHED 303 
 
 afternoon, and seldom came home till two in the morning. 
 I took the liberty to ask if he did not think it wrong to live 
 thus, and not make more use of his great talents. He owned it 
 was a bad habit. On reviewing, at the distance of many years, 
 my journal of this period, I wonder how, at my first visit, I 
 ventured to talk to him so freely, and that he bore it with so 
 much indulgence. 
 
 Before we parted, he was so good as to promise to favour me 
 with his company one evening at my lodgings, and, as I took 
 my leave, shook me cordially by the hand. It is almost 
 needless to add, that I felt no little elation at having now so 
 happily established an acquaintance of which I had been so 
 long ambitious. 
 
 My readers will, I trust, excuse me for being thus minutely 
 circumstantial, when it is considered that the acquaintance of 
 Dr. Johnson was to me a most valuable acquisition, and laid 
 the foundation of whatever instruction and entertainment they 
 may receive from my collections concerning the great subject of 
 the work which they are now perusing. 
 
 I did not visit him again till Monday, June 13, at which time 
 I recollect no part of his conversation, except that when I told 
 him I had been to see Johnson ^ ride upon three horses, he said, 
 " Such a man, Sir, should be encouraged ; for his performances 
 shew the extent of the human powers in one instance, and thus 
 tend to raise our opinion of the faculties of man. He shews 
 what may be attained by persevering application ; so that every 
 man may hope, that by giving as much application, although 
 perhaps he may never ride three horses at a time, or dance 
 upon a wire, yet he may be equally expert in whatever 
 profession he has chosen to pursue." 
 
 He again shook me by the hand at parting, and asked me 
 why I did not come oftener to him. Trusting that I was now in 
 his good graces, I answered, that he had not given me much 
 encouragement, and reminded him of the check I had received 
 
 1 ["In the year 1762 one Johnson, an Irishman, exhibited many feats of 
 activity in horsemanship, and was, it is believed, the first performer, at that 
 time, in or about London. He w^as an active clever fellow m his way." 
 Prior's Life of Burke, vol. i. p. 124. — Croker.]
 
 304 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 from him on my first interview. " Poh, poh ! (said he with a 
 complacent smile), never mind these things. Come to me as 
 often as you can. I shall be glad to see you." 
 
 I had learnt that his place of frequent resort was the Mitre 
 tavern in Fleet-street, where he loved to sit up late, and I 
 begged I might be allowed to pass an evening with him there 
 soon, which he promised I should. A few days afterwards, I 
 met him near Temple-bar about one o'clock in the morning, 
 and asked if he would the-n go to the Mitre. " Sir, (said he,) 
 it is too late, they won't let us in. But I'll go with you another 
 night, with all my heart." 
 
 A revolution of some importance in my plan of life had just 
 taken place ; for instead of procuring a commission in the 
 foot-guards, which was my own inclination, I had, in compliance 
 with my father's wishes, agreed to study the law, and was soon 
 to set out for Utrecht, to hear the lectures of an excellent 
 Civilian in the University, and then to proceed on my travels. 
 Though very desirous of obtaining Dr. Johnson's advice and 
 instructions on the mode of pursuing my studies, I was at this 
 time so occupied, shall I call it .'* or so dissipated by the amuse- 
 ments of London, that our next meeting was not till Saturday, 
 June 25, when happening to dine at Clifton's eating-house, in 
 Butcher- row,^ I was surprised to perceive Johnson come in and 
 take his seat at another table. The mode of dining, or rather 
 being fed, at such houses in London, is well known to many to 
 be particularly unsocial, as there is no Ordinary, or united 
 company, but each person has his own mess, and is under no 
 obligation to hold any intercourse with any one. A liberal and 
 full-minded man, however, who loves to talk, will break through 
 this churlish and unsocial restraint. Johnson and an Irish 
 gentleman got into a dispute concerning the cause of some part 
 of mankind being black. "Why, Sir, (said Johnson,) it has 
 been accounted for in three ways : either by supposing 
 that they are the posterity of Ham, who was cursed ; or that 
 
 ^ A row of tenements in the Strand, between Wych Street and Temple 
 Bar, and "so called from the butchers' shambles on the south side." (Strype, 
 B. iv. p. 118.) Butcher Row was pulled down in 1813, and the present Pickett 
 Street erected in its stead. — P. CUNNINGHAM.]
 
 Age 54-] ^^V EVENING AT THE MITRE. 305 
 
 God at first created two kinds of men, one black and a«nother 
 white ; or that by the heat of the sun the skin is scorched, and 
 so acquires a sooty hue. This matter has been much canvassed 
 among naturahsts, but has never been brought to any certain 
 issue." What the Irishman said is totally obliterated from 
 my mind ; but I remember that he became very warm and in- 
 temperate in his expressions ; upon which Johnson rose, and 
 quietly walked away. When he had retired, his antagonist took 
 his revenge, as he thought, by saying, " He has a most ungainly 
 figure, and an affectation of pomposity unworthy of a man of 
 genius." 
 
 Johnson had not observed that I was in the room. I followed 
 him, however, and he agreed to meet me in the evening at the 
 Mitre. I called on him, and we went thither at nine. We had 
 a good supper, and port wine, of which he then sometimes drank 
 a bottle. The orthodox high-church sound of the MiTRE, — 
 the figure and manner of the celebrated Samuel Johnson, — 
 the extraordinary power and precision of his conversation, and 
 the pride arising from finding myself admitted as his companion, 
 produced a variety of sensations, and a pleasing elevation of 
 mind beyond what I had ever before experienced. I find in my 
 Journal the following minute of our conversation, which, though 
 it will give but a very faint notion of what passed, is, in some 
 degree, a valuable record ; and it will be curious in this view, as 
 shewing how habitual to his mind were some opinions which 
 appear in his works. 
 
 " Colley Gibber,^ Sir, was by no means a blockhead : but by 
 arrogating to himself too much, he was in danger of losing that 
 degree of estimation to which he was entitled. His friends gave 
 out that he intended his birth-day odes should be bad : but that 
 was not the case, Sir ; for he kept them many months by him, 
 and a few years before he died he shewed me one of them, with 
 
 ^ [Colley Gibber was born in 1671, bore arms in favour of the Revolution, 
 and soon after went on the stage as an actor. In 1695 he appeared as a 
 writer of comedies with great and deserved success. He quitted the stage in 
 1730, on being appointed poet laureate, and died in 1757. — Croker.] [He 
 was the hero of Pope's Dunciad in its second form, partly as laureate of the 
 day and little worthy of the laurel, partly because he had offended Pope by 
 his insults to the Roman Catholic religion, in "The Nonjuror'' especially.] 
 
 VOL. L X
 
 3o6 BOSIVELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 great solicitude to render it as perfect as might be, and I made 
 
 some corrections, to which he was not very willing to submit. 
 
 I remember the following couplet in allusion to the King and 
 
 himself: 
 
 " 'Perch'd on the eagle's soaring wing, 
 The lowly linnet loves to sing.' 
 
 Sir, he had heard something of the fabulous tale of the wren 
 sitting upon the eagle's wing, and he had applied it to a linnet. 
 Gibber's familiar style, however, was better than that which 
 Whitehead^ has assumed. Grand nonsense is insupportable. 
 Whitehead is but a little man to inscribe verses to players." 
 
 I did not presume to controvert this censure, which was tinc- 
 tured with his prejudice against players, but I could not help 
 thinking that a dramatick poet might with propriety pay a 
 compliment to an eminent performer, as Whitehead has very 
 happily done in his verses to Mr, Garrick. 
 
 " Sir, I do not think Gray a first-rate poet. He has not a 
 bold imagination, nor much command of words. The obscurity 
 in which he has involved himself will not persuade us that he is 
 sublime. His Elegy in a churchyard has a happy selection of 
 images, but I don't like what are called his great things. His 
 Ode which begins 
 
 " ' Ruin seize thee, ruthless King, 
 Contusion on thy banners wait ! ' 
 
 has been celebrated for its abruptness, and plunging into the 
 subject all at once. But such arts as these have no merit, 
 unless when they are original. We admire them only once ; 
 and this abruptness has nothing new in it. We have had it 
 often before. Nay, we have it in the old song of Johnny 
 Armstrong : 
 
 & 
 
 " ' Is there ever a man in all Scotland, 
 
 From the highest estate to the lowest aegree,' &c. 
 
 And then. Sir. 
 
 " ' Yes, there is a man in Westmoreland, 
 And Johnny Armstrong they do him call.' 
 
 There, now, you plunge at once into the subject. You have no 
 
 1 [William Whitehead, who succeeded Gibber as Poet Laureate.] 
 
 I
 
 Age 54.] CIBBER— WHITEHEAD— GRA Y. 307 
 
 previous narration to lead you to it. — The two next lines in that 
 Ode are, I think, very good : 
 
 " ' Though fann'd by conquest's crimson wing, 
 They mock the air with idle state.' "^ 
 
 Here let it be observed, that although his opinion of Gray's 
 poetry was widely different from mine, and I believe from that 
 of most men of taste, by whom it is with justice highly admired, 
 there is certainly much absurdity in the clamour which has been 
 raised, as if he had been culpably injurious to the merit of that 
 bard, and had been actuated by envy. Alas ! ye little short- 
 sighted criticks, could Johnson be envious of the talents of any 
 of his contemporaries.'' That his opinion on this subject was 
 what in private and in publick he uniformly expressed, regard- 
 less of what others might think, we may wonder, and perhaps 
 regret; but ;it is shallow and unjust to charge him with 
 expressing what he did not think. 
 
 Finding him in a placid humour, and wishing to avail myself 
 of the opportunity which I fortunately had of consulting a sage, 
 to hear whose wisdom, I conceived, in the ardour of youthful 
 imagination, that men filled with a noble enthusiasm for in- 
 tellectual improvement would gladly have resorted from distant 
 lands ; — I opened my mind to him ingenuously, and gave him a 
 little sketch of my life, to which he was pleased to listen with 
 great attention. 
 
 I acknowledged, that though educated very strictly in the 
 principles of religion, I had for some time been misled into a 
 certain degree of infidelity ; but that I was come now to a 
 better way of thinking, and was fully satisfied of the truth of 
 the Christian revelation, though I was not clear as to every 
 point considered to be orthodox. Being at all times a curious 
 examiner of the human mind, and pleased with an undisguised 
 display of what had passed in it, he called to me with warmth, 
 " Give me your hand ; I have taken a liking to you." He then 
 began to descant upon the force of testimony, and the little we 
 
 ^ My friend Mr. Malone, in his valuable comments on Shakspeare, has 
 traced in that great poet the disjecta mejtibra of these lines. 
 
 X 2
 
 3o8 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 could know of final causes; so that the objections of, "Why 
 was it so ? " or " Why was it not so ? " ought not to disturb us : 
 adding, that he himself had at one period been guilty of a 
 temporary neglect of religion, but that it was not the result of 
 argument, but mere absence of thought. 
 
 After having given credit to reports of his bigotry, I was 
 agreeably surprised when he expressed the following very liberal 
 sentiment, which has the additional value of obviating an 
 objection to our holy religion, founded upon the discordant 
 tenets of Christians themselves : " For my part, Sir, I think all 
 Christians, whether Papists or Protestants, agree in the essential 
 articles, and that their differences are trivial, and rather political 
 than religious." 
 
 We talked of belief in ghosts. He said, " Sir, I make a dis- 
 tinction between what a man may experience by the mere 
 strength of his imagination, and what imagination cannot possibly 
 produce. Thus, suppose I should think that I saw a form, and 
 heard a voice cry, 'Johnson, you are a very wicked fellow, and 
 unless you repent you will certainly be punished,' my own un- 
 worthiness is so deeply impressed upon my mind, that I might 
 imagine I thus saw and heard, and therefore I should not believe 
 that an external communication had been made to me. But if a 
 form should appear, and a voice should tell me that a particular 
 man had died at a particular place, and at a particular hour, a 
 fact which I had no apprehension of, nor any means of knowing, 
 and this fact, with all its circumstances, should afterwards be 
 unquestionably proved, I should, in that case be persuaded 
 that I had supernatural intelligence imparted to me." 
 
 Here it is proper, once for all, to give a true and fair statement 
 of Johnson's way of thinking upon the question, whether de- 
 parted spirits are ever permitted to appear in this world, or in 
 any way to operate upon human life. He has been ignorantly 
 misrepresented as weakly credulous upon that subject; and 
 therefore, though I feel an inclination to disdain and treat with 
 silent contempt so foolish a notion concerning my illustrious 
 friend, yet as I find it has gained ground, it is necessary to 
 refute it. The real fact then is, that Johnson had a very 
 philosophical mind, and such a rational respect for testimony,
 
 Age 54.] THE COCK LANE GHOST. 309 
 
 as to make him submit his understanding to what was authen- 
 tically proved, though he could not comprehend why it was so. 
 Being thus disposed, he was willing to enquire into the truth of 
 any relation of supernatural agency, a general belief of which 
 has prevailed in all nations and ages. But so far was he from 
 being a dupe of implicit faith, that he examined the matter with 
 a jealous attention, and no man was more ready to refute its 
 falsehood when he had discovered it. Churchill, in his poem 
 entitled " The Ghost," availed himself of the absurd credulity 
 imputed to Johnson, and drew a caricature of him under the 
 name of " POMPOSO," representing him as one of the believers 
 of the story of a Ghost in Cock-lane, which, in the year 1762, 
 had gained very general credit in London. Many of my 
 readers, I am convinced, are to this hour under an impression 
 that Johnson was thus foolishly deceived. It will therefore 
 surprise them a good deal when they are informed upon un- 
 doubted authority, that Johnson was one of those by whom the 
 imposture was detected. The story had become so popular, 
 that he thought it should be investigated ; and in this research 
 he was assisted by the Reverend Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of 
 Salisbury, the great detector of impostures ; who informs me, 
 that after the gentlemen who went and examined into the 
 evidence were satisfied of its falsity, Johnson wrote in their 
 presence an account of it, which was published in the newspapers 
 and Gentleman's Magazine, and undeceived the world.^ 
 
 1 The account was as follows : " On the night of the ist of February, many- 
 gentlemen eminent for their rank and character, were, by the invitation of 
 the Reverend Mr. Aldrich, of Clerkenwell, assembled at his house, for the 
 examination of the noises supposed to be made by a departed spirit, for the 
 detection of some enormous crime. 
 
 " About ten at night the gentlemen met in the chamber in which the girl, 
 supposed to be disturbed by a spirit, had, with proper caution, been put to 
 bed by several ladies. They sat rather more than an hour, and hearing no- 
 thing, went down-stairs, when they interrogated the father of the girl, who 
 denied, in the strongest terms, any knowledge or belief of fraud. 
 
 "The supposed spirit had before publickly promised, by an affirmative 
 knock, that it would attend one of the gentlemen into the vault under the 
 church of St. John, Clerkenwell, where the body is deposited, and give a 
 token of her presence there, by a knock upon her coffin ; it was therefore 
 determined to make this trial of the existence or veracity of the supposed 
 spirit. 
 
 " While they were enquiring and deliberating, they were summoned into
 
 31 o BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 Our conversation proceeded. " Sir, (said he,) I am a 
 friend to subordination, as most conducive to the happiness of 
 society. There is a reciprocal pleasure in governing and being 
 governed." 
 
 " Dr. Goldsmith is one of the first men we now have as an 
 authour, and he is a very worthy man too. He has been loose in 
 his principles, but he is coming right." 
 
 I mentioned Mallei's tragedy of " ELVIRA," which had been 
 acted the preceding winter at Drury-lane, and that the 
 Honourable Andrew Erskine, Mr. Dempster,^ and myself, had 
 joined in writing a pamphlet, entitled "Critical Strictures,"^ 
 against it. That the mildness of Dempster's disposition had, 
 however, relented ; and he had candidly said, "We have hardly 
 a right to abuse this tragedy ; for bad as it is, how vain should 
 either of us be to write one not near so good." JOHNSON. 
 "Why no. Sir; this is not just reasoning. You may abuse a 
 tragedy, though you cannot write one. You may scold a 
 
 the girl's chamber by some ladies who were near her bed, and who had heard 
 knocks and scratches. When the gentlemen entered, the girl declared that 
 she felt the spirit like a mouse upon her back, and was required to hold her 
 hands out of bed. From that time, though the spirit was very solemnly re- 
 quired to manifest its existence by appearance, by impression on the hand or 
 body of any present, by scratches, knocks, or any other agency, no evidence 
 of any preternatural power was exhih'ted. 
 
 "The spirit was then very seriously advertised that the person to whom the 
 promise was made of striking tlie coffin, was then about to visit the vault, and 
 that the performance of the promise was then claimed. The company at one 
 o'clock went into the church, and the gentleman to whom the promise was 
 made, went with another into the vault. The spirit was solemnly required to 
 perform its promise, but nothing more than silence ensued : the person 
 supposed to be accused by the spirit, then went down with several others, but 
 no effect was perceived. Upon their return they examined the girl, but could 
 draw no confession from her. Between two and three she desired and was 
 permitted to go home with her father. 
 
 " It is, therefore, the opinion of the whole assembly, that the child has 
 some art of making or counterfeiting a particular noise, and that there is no 
 agency of any higher cause." 
 
 1 [George Dempster, of Dunnichen, secretary to the Order of the Thistle, 
 and long M.P. for the Fife district of boroughs. He was a man of talents 
 and very agreeable manners. Burns mentions him more than once with 
 eulogy. Mr. Dempster retired from parliament in 1790, and died in 181 8, in 
 his 86th year.— Crokkk.] 
 
 ^ The Critical Review, in which Mallet himself sometimes wrote, character- 
 ised this pamphlet as "the crude efforts of envy, petulance, and self-conceit.'' 
 There being thus three epithets, we the three authours had a humourous 
 contention how each should be appropriated.
 
 Age 54-] GOLDSMITH— MALLET— LANDLORDS— TRAVEL. 311 
 
 carpenter who has made you a bad table, though you cannot 
 make a table. It is not your trade to make tables." 
 
 When I talked to him of the paternal estate to which I was 
 heir, he said, " Sir, let me tell you, that to be a Scotch landlord 
 where you have a number of families dependent upon you, and 
 attached to you, is, perhaps, as high a situation as humanity can 
 arrive at. A merchant upon the 'Change of London, with a 
 hundred thousand pounds, is nothing ; an English Duke, with 
 an immense fortune, is nothing : he has no tenants who consider 
 themselves as under his patriarchal care, and who will follow him 
 into the field upon an emergency." 
 
 His notion of the dignity of a Scotch landlord had been 
 formed upon what he had heard of the Highland Chiefs ; for it 
 is long since a Lowland landlord had been so curtailed in his 
 feudal authority, that he has little more influence over his 
 tenants than an English landlord ; and of late years most of the 
 Highland Chiefs have destroyed, by means too well known, the 
 princely power which they once enjoyed.^ 
 
 He proceeded : " Your going abroad. Sir, and breaking off 
 idle habits, may be of great importance to you. I would go 
 where there are courts and learned men. There is a greal deal 
 of Spain that has not been perambulated. I would have you go 
 thither. A man of inferiour talents to yours may furnish us with 
 useful observations upon that country." His supposing me, at 
 that period of life, capable of writing an account of my travels 
 that would deserve to be read, elated me not a little. 
 
 I appeal to every impartial reader whether this faithful detail 
 of his frankness, complacency, and kindness to a young man 
 a stranger and a Scotchman, does not refute the unjust opinion 
 of the harshness of his general demeanour. His occasional 
 reproofs of folly, impudence, or impiety, and even the sudden 
 sallies of his constitutional irritability of temper, which have 
 been preserved for the poignancy of their wit, have produced that 
 
 1 [Boswell alludes, principally at least, to the substitution of sheep-farming 
 for the old black-cattle system in the Highlands and islands of Scotland, in 
 consequence of which, fewer hands being required on the chiefs' estates, 
 a large portion of their clansmen were driven into exile in America. We 
 shall hear more of these affairs in the course of the Hebridean journal, j^^j-/. 
 
 — LOCKHART.]
 
 312 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 opinion among those who have not considered that such 
 instances, though collected by Mrs. Piozzi into a small volume, 
 and read over in a few hours, were, in fact, scattered through a 
 long series of years : years in which his time was chiefly spent 
 in instructing and delighting mankind by his writings and con- 
 versation, in acts of piety to GOD, and good-will to men. 
 
 I complained to him that I had not yet acquired much 
 knowledge ; and asked his advice as to my studies. He said, 
 " Don't talk of study now. I will give you a plan ; but it will 
 require some time to consider of it." " It is very good in you (I 
 replied), to allow me to be with you thus. Had it been foretold 
 to me some years ago that I should pass an evening with the 
 authour of the RAMBLER, how should I have exulted ! " What 
 I then expressed was sincerely from the heart. He was satisfied 
 that it was, and cordially answered, " Sir, I am glad we have met. 
 I hope we shall pass many evenings, and mornings too, together." 
 We finished a couple of bottles of port, and sat till between one 
 and two in the morning. 
 
 He wrote this year in the Critical Review, the account of 
 " Telemachus, a Mask," by the Reverend George Graham, of 
 Eton College. The subject of this beautiful poem was 
 particularly interesting to Johnson, who had much experience 
 of " the conflict of opposite principles," which he describes 
 as " The contention between pleasure and virtue, a struggle 
 which will always be continued while the present system of 
 nature shall subsist ; nor can history or poetry exhibit more 
 than pleasure triumphing over virtue, and virtue subjugating 
 pleasure." 
 
 As Dr. Oliver Goldsmith will frequently appear in this 
 narrative, I shall endeavour to make my readers in some 
 degree acquainted with his singular character. He was a 
 native of Ireland, and a contemporary with Mr. Burke, at Trinity 
 College, Dublin, but did not then give much promise of future 
 celebrity.^ He, however, observed to Mr. Malone, that "though 
 
 ^ [Goldsmith got a premium at a Christmas examination in Trinity College, 
 Dublin, which I have seen.— Kearney.] 
 
 [A premium obtained at the Christmas examination is generally more 
 honourable than any other, because it ascertains the person who receives it to
 
 Age 54.] OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 313 
 
 he made no great figure in mathematicks, which was a study in 
 much repute there, he could turn an Ode of Horace into EngHsh 
 better than any of them." He afterwards studied physick at 
 Edinburgh, and upon the Continent : and I have been informed, 
 was enabled to pursue his travels on foot, partly by demanding 
 at Universities to enter the lists as a disputant, by which* 
 according to the custom of many of them, he was entitled to the 
 premium of a crown, when, luckily for him, his challenge was not 
 accepted ; so that, as I once observed to Dr. Johnson, he disputed 
 his passage through Europe. He then came to England, and 
 was employed successively in the capacities of an usher to an 
 academy, a corrector of the press, a reviewer, and a writer for a 
 newspaper. He had sagacity enough to cultivate assiduously 
 the acquaintance of Johnson, and his faculties were gradually 
 enlarged by the contemplation of such a model. To me and 
 many others it appeared that he studiously copied the manner of 
 Johnson, though, indeed, upon a smaller scale. 
 
 At this time I think he had published nothing with his name, 
 though it was pretty generally known that one Dr. Goldsmith 
 was the authour of "An Enquiry into the present State of 
 Polite Learning in Europe," and of " The Citizen of the World," 
 a series of letters supposed to be written from London by a 
 Chinese.-^ No man had the art of displaying with more 
 advantage, as a writer, whatever literary acquisitions he made. 
 "' Nihil quod tetigit nan ornavit.'"^ His mind resembled a fertile, 
 but thin soil. There was a quick, but not a strong vegetation, 
 of whatever chanced to be thrown upon it. No deep root could 
 be struck. The oak of the forest did not grow there ; but the 
 elegant shrubbery and the fragrant parterre appeared in gay 
 succession. It has been generally circulated and believed that 
 
 be the first in literary merit. At the other examinations, the person thus 
 distinguished may be only the second in merit ; he who has previously 
 obtained the same honorary reward sometimes receiving a written cer- 
 tificate that he was the best answerer, it being a rule that not more than one 
 premium should be adjudged to the same person in one year. See p. 180. — 
 Malone.] 
 
 ^ [He had also pubhshed in 1759, "The Bee ; being Essays on the most 
 interesting Subjects." — Malone.] 
 
 2 See his Epitaph in Westminster Abbey, written by Dr. Johnson.
 
 3H BOSWELUS LIFE OF JOHNSON. 1763. 
 
 lie was a mere fool in conversation ; ^ but, in truth, this has been 
 greatly exaggerated. He had, no doubt, a more than common 
 share of that hurry of ideas which we often find in his country- 
 men, and which sometimes produces a laughable confusion in 
 expressing them. He was very much what the French call 
 uii c'tourdi, and from vanity and an eager desire of being 
 conspicuous wherever he was, he frequently talked carelessly 
 without knowledge of the subject, or even without thought. 
 His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his 
 deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy 
 gentleman. Those who were in any way distinguished, excited 
 envy in him to so ridiculous an excess, that the instances of it 
 are hardly credible. When accompanying two bea-utiful young 
 ladies,"^ with their mother, on a tour in France, he was seriously 
 angry that more attention was paid to them than to him : and 
 once at the exhibition of the Fantoccini in London, when those 
 who sat next him observed with what dexterity a puppet was 
 made to toss a pike, he could not bear that it should have such 
 praise, and exclaimed, with some warmth, " Pshaw ! I can do it 
 better myself! "^ 
 
 He, I am afraid, had no settled system of any sort, so that 
 his conduct must not be strictly scrutinized ; but his affections 
 were social and generous, and when he had money he gave 
 it away very liberally. His desire of imaginary consequence 
 
 ^ In allusion to this, Mr. Horace Walpole, who admired his writings, said 
 he was " an inspired idiot ; " and Garrick described him as one 
 
 " for shortness call'd Noll, 
 
 Who wrote like an angel, and talk'd like poor Poll." 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds mentioned to me that he frequently heard Goldsmith 
 talk warmly of the pleasure of being liked, and observe how hard it would be 
 if literary excellence should preclude a man from that satisfaction, which he 
 perceived it often did, from the envy which attended it ; and therefore Sir 
 Joshua was convinced that he was intentionally more absurd, in order to 
 lessen himself in social intercourse, trusting that his character would be 
 sufficiently supported by his works. If it indeed was his intention to appear 
 absurd in company, he was often very successful. But with due deference to 
 Sir Joshua's ingenuity, I think the conjecture too refined. 
 
 2 Miss Hornecks, one of whom is now married to Henry Bunbury, Esq., 
 and the other to Colonel Gwyn. 
 
 ^ He went home with Mr. Burke to supper ; and broke his shin by attempt- 
 ing to exhibit to the company how much better he could jump over a stick 
 than the puppets. [Goldsmith is, this year, 35 and Boswell 23.]
 
 Age 54-] ''VICAR OF WAKEFIELD'' SOLD (IN 1761). 
 
 3'5 
 
 predominated over his attention to truth. When he began to 
 rise into notice, he said he had a brother who was Dean of 
 Durham/ a fiction so easily detected, that it is wonderful how 
 he should have been so inconsiderate as to hazard it. He 
 boasted to me at this time of the power of his pen in command- 
 ing money, which I believe was true in a certain degree, though 
 in the instance he gave he was by no means correct. He told 
 me that he had sold a novel for four hundred pounds. This 
 was his " Vicar of Wakefield." But Johnson informed me that 
 he had made the bargain for Goldsmith, and the price was sixty 
 pounds. " And, Sir, (said he,) a sufficient price too, when it was 
 sold ; for then the fame of Goldsmith had not been elevated, as 
 it afterwards was, by his 'Traveller;' and the bookseller had 
 such faint hopes of profit by his bargain, that he kept the 
 manuscript by him a long time, and did not publish it till 
 after the 'Traveller' had appeared. Then, to be sure, it was 
 accidentally worth more money." 
 
 Mrs. Piozzi^and Sir John Hawkins ^ have strangely mis-stated 
 the history of Goldsmith's situation and Johnson's friendly 
 interference, when this novel was sold. I shall give it authentic- 
 ally from Johnson's own exact narration : 
 
 " I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith that 
 he was in great distress, and as it was not in his power to come 
 to me, begging that I would come to him as soon as possible. 
 I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him directly. 
 I accordingly went as soon as I was dressed, and found that his 
 landlady had arrested him for his rent, at which he was in a 
 violent passion. I perceived that he had already changed my 
 guinea, and had got a bottle of Madeira and a glass before him. 
 I put the cork into the bottle, desired he would be calm, and 
 began to talk to him of the means by which he might be 
 extricated. He then told me that he had a novel ready for the 
 press, which he produced to me. I looked into it, and saw its 
 merit ; told the landlady I should soon return, and having gone 
 
 1 I am ■willing to hope that there may have been some mistake as to this 
 anecdote, though I had it from a Dignitary of the church. Dr. Isaac Gold- 
 smith, his near relation, was Dean of Cloyne, in 1747. 
 
 2 Anecdotes of Johnson, p. 119. 
 " Life of Johnson, p. 420.
 
 3i6 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 to a bookseller, sold it for sixty pounds. I brought Goldsmith 
 the money, and he discharged his rent, not without rating his 
 landlady in a high tone for having used him so ill." ^ 
 
 My next meeting with Johnson was on Friday, the ist of July, 
 when he and I and Dr. Goldsmith supped at the Mitre. I 
 was before this time pretty well acquainted with Goldsmith, who 
 was one of the brightest ornaments of the Johnsonian school. 
 Goldsmith's respectful attachment to Johnson was then at its 
 height ; for his own literary reputation had not yet distinguished 
 him so much as to excite a vain desire of competition with his 
 great Master. He had increased my admiration of the good- 
 ness of Johnson's heart, by incidental remarks in the course of 
 
 ^ It may not be improper to annex here Mrs. Piozzi's account of this 
 transaction, in her own words, as a specimen of the extreme inaccuracy with 
 which all her anecdotes of Dr. Johnson are related, or rather discoloured and 
 distorted. " I have forgotten the year, but it could scarcely, I think, be later 
 than 1765 or 1766, that he was called abruptly ffom our house after diimer, 
 and returning/// about three hours, said he had been with an enraged authour, 
 whose landlady pressed him for payment within doors, while the bailiffs beset 
 him without ; that he was drhiking himself drunk with Madeira, to drown 
 care, and fretting over a novel, which, when finished, was to be his whole 
 fortune, but lie could not get it done for distraction, nor could he step out of 
 doors to offer it for sale. Mr. Johnson, therefore, sent away the bottle, and 
 went to the bookseller, recommending the performance, and desiring some 
 inunediate relief; which when he brought back to the writer, he called the 
 ivoman of the house directly to partake of punch, and pass their time in merri- 
 menty — Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, p. 119. [Johnson sometimes repeated the 
 same anecdote with different circumstances. Here the greatest discrepancy 
 between the two stories is the time of the day at which it happened ; and, un- 
 luckily, the admitted fact of the bottle of Madeira stems to render Mrs. 
 Piozzi's version the more probable of the two. If, according to Mr. Boswell's 
 account. Goldsmith had, in the morning, changed Johnson's charitable guinea 
 for the purpose of getting a bottle of Madeira, we cannot wonder that 
 Mrs. Piozzi represents him as "drinking himself drunk with Madeira; " but 
 there is a more serious objection to Mrs. Piozzi's story. She says, Johnson 
 left the table to go and sell the novel ; now the novel was sold in 1761 — four 
 years before Johnson's acquaintance with the Thrales, — though it was not 
 published till March, 1766. The Traveller appeared December, 1764. It 
 maybe doubtful whether the sale was not later than I76i,but it certainly was 
 long before his acquaintance with the Thrales. Steevens tells a not dis- 
 similar story of Johnson himself, who "confessed to have been sometimes in 
 the power of bailiffs. Richardson, the author of Clarissa, was his constant 
 friend on such occasions. ' I remember writing to him,' said Johnson, 'from 
 a sponging house ; and was so sure of my deliverance through his kindness 
 and liberality, that, before his reply was brought, I knew I could afford to 
 joke with the rascal who had me in custody, and did so, over a pint of 
 adulterated wine, for which, at that instant, I had no money to pay.' " London 
 Mag. vol. Iv. p. 253.— Ckoker.]
 
 Age 54] GOLDSMITH AND JOHNSON. 317 
 
 conversation, such as, when I mentioned Mr. Levet, whom he 
 entertained under his roof, " He is poor and honest, which is 
 recommendation enough to Johnson;" and when I wondered 
 that he was very kind to a man of whom I had heard a very 
 bad character, " He is now become miserable, and that ensures 
 the protection of Johnson." 
 
 Goldsmith attempted this evening to maintain, I suppose from 
 an affectation of paradox, " that knowledge was not desirable on 
 its own account, for it often was a source of unhappiness." 
 Johnson. " Why, Sir, that knowledge may in some cases 
 produce unhappiness, I allow. But, upon the whole, knowledge, 
 per se, is certainly an object which every man would wish to 
 attain, although, perhaps, he may not take the trouble necessary 
 for attaining it." 
 
 Dr. John Campbell, the celebrated political and biographical 
 writer, being mentioned, Johnson said, " Campbell is a man of 
 much knowledge, and has a good share of imagination. His 
 ' Hermippus Redivivus ' is very entertaining, as an account of 
 Hermetick philosophy, and as furnishing a curious history of 
 the extravagancies of the human mind. If it were merely 
 imaginary, it would be nothing at all. Campbell is not always 
 rigidly careful of truth in his conversation ; but I do not 
 believe there is anything of this carelessness in his books. 
 Campbell is a good man, a pious man. I am afraid he has not 
 been in the inside of a church for many years ; ^ but he never 
 passes a church without pulling off his hat. This shews that he 
 has good principles, I used to go pretty often to Campbell's on 
 
 ^ I am inclined to think that he was misinformed as to this circumstance. 
 I own I am jealous for my worthy friend Dr. John Campbell. For though 
 Milton could without remorse absent himself from public worship, I cannot. 
 On the contrary, I have the same habitual impressions upon my mind, with 
 those of a truly venerable Judge, who said to Mr. Langton, " Friend Langton, 
 if I have not been at church on Sunday, I do not feel myself easy." Dr. 
 Campbell was a sincerely religious man. Lord Macartney, who is eminent 
 for his variety of knowledge, and attenrion to men of talents, and knew him 
 well, told me, that when he called on him in a morning, he found him reading 
 a chapter in the Greek New Testament, which he informed his Lordship was 
 his constant practice. The quantity of Dr. Campbell's composition is almost 
 incredible, and his labours brought him large profits. Dr. Joseph Warton 
 told me that Johnson said of him, " He is the richest authour that ever grazed 
 the common of literature."
 
 ;i8 
 
 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1765. 
 
 a Sunday evening, till I began to consider that the shoals of 
 Scotchmen who flocked about him might probably say, when 
 anything of mine was well done, 'Ay, ay, he has learnt this of 
 Cawmell ! '" 
 
 He talked very contemptuously of Churchill's poetry, 
 observing, that " it had a temporary currency, only from its 
 audacity of abuse, and being filled with living names, and that 
 it would sink into oblivion." I ventured to hint that he was not 
 quite a fair judge, as Churchill had attacked him violently. 
 Johnson, " Nay, Sir, I am a very fair judge. He did not 
 attack me violently till he found I did not like his poetry ; and 
 his attack on me shall not prevent me from continuing to say 
 what I think of him, from an apprehension that it may be 
 ascribed to resentment. No, Sir, I called the fellow a block- 
 head at first, and I will call him a blockhead still. However, I 
 will acknowledge that I have a better opinion of him now, than 
 I once had ; for he has shewn more fertility than I expected. 
 To be sure, he is a tree that cannot produce good fruit : he only 
 bears crabs. But, Sir, a tree that produces a great many crabs, 
 is better than a tree which produces only a few." 
 
 In this depreciation of Churchill's poetry I could not agree 
 with him. It is very true that the greatest part of it is upon 
 the topicks of the day, on which account, as it brought him 
 great fame and profit at the time, it must proportionably slide 
 out of the publick attention, as other occasional objects succeed. 
 But Churchill had extraordinary vigour both of thought and 
 expression. His portraits of the players will ever be valuable 
 to the true lovers of the drama ; and his strong caricatures of 
 several eminent men of his age, will not be forgotten by the 
 curious. Let me add, that there are in his works m.any passages 
 which are of a general nature; and his " Prophecy of Famine" 
 is a poem of no ordinary merit. It is, indeed, falsely injurious 
 to Scotland ; but therefore may be allowed a greater share 
 of invention. 
 
 Bonnell Thornton had just published a burlesque "Ode on 
 St. Cecilia's day," adapted to the ancient British musick, viz. 
 the salt-box, the Jew's-harp, the marrow-bones and cleaver, 
 the hum-strum, or hurdy-gurdy, &c. Johnson praised its
 
 Age 54.] CHURCHILL— BONMELL THORNTON. 319 
 
 humour, and seemed much diverted with it. He repeated the 
 following passage : 
 
 "In strains more exalted the salt-box shall join, 
 And clattering and battering and clapping combine ; 
 With a rap and a tap, while the hollow side sounds. 
 Up and down leaps the flap, and with rattling rebomids."^ 
 
 1 mentioned the periodical paper called " The Connoisseur." 
 He said it wanted matter. — No doubt it had not the deep 
 thinking of Johnson's writings. But surely it has just views 
 of the surface of life, and a very sprightly manner. His opinion 
 of The World was not much higher than of the Connoisseur. 
 
 Let me here apologize for the imperfect manner in which 
 I am obliged to exhibit Johnson's conversation at this period. 
 In the early part of my acquaintance with him, I was so wrapt 
 in admiration of his extraordinary colloquial talents, and so 
 little accustomed to his peculiar mode of expression, that 
 I found it extremely difficult to recollect and record his con- 
 versation with its genuine vigour and vivacity. In progress of 
 time, when my mind was, as it were, strongly impregnated zvith 
 the J oJmsonian (ZtJier, I could, with much more facility and 
 exactness, carry in my memory and commit to paper the 
 exuberant variety of his wisdom and wit. 
 
 At this time Miss Wiliams,^ as she was then called, though 
 she did not reside with him in the Temple under his roof, but 
 had lodgings in Bolt-court, Fleet-street, had so much of his 
 attention, that he every -night drank tea with her before he 
 went home, however late it might be, and she always sat up 
 
 ^ [In 1769 I set for Smart and Newbury, Thornton's burlesque Ode, on 
 St. Cecilia's day. It was performed at Ranelagh in masks, to a very crowded 
 audience, as I was told ; for I then resided in Norfolk. Beard sung the salt- 
 box song, which was admirably accompanied on that instrument by Brent, 
 the Fencing-master, and father of Miss Brent, the celebrated singer; Skeggs 
 on the broom-stick, as bassoon, and a remarkable performer on the Jew-harp, 
 — " Buzzing twangs the iron lyre." Cleavers were cast in bell-metal for this 
 entertainment. All the performers of the old woman's Oratory, employed 
 by Foote, were, I believe, employed at Ranelagh, on this occasion. — 
 
 BURNEY.] 
 
 2 [This lady resided in Dr. Johnson's house in Gough-square from about 
 1753 to 1758 ; and in that year, on his removing to Gray's Inn, she went into 
 lodgings. At a subsequent period, she again became an inmate with Johnson, 
 in Johnson's-court. — Malone.]
 
 320 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 for him. This, it may be fairly conjectured, was not alone 
 a proof of his regard for her, but of his own unwillingness to 
 go into solitude, before that unseasonable hour at which he 
 had habituated himself to expect the oblivion of repose. Dr. 
 Goldsmith, being a privileged man, went with him this night, 
 strutting away, and calling to me with an air of superiourity, 
 like that of an esoterick over an exoterick disciple of a sage 
 of antiquity, " I go to Miss Williams." I confess, I then 
 envied him this mighty privilege, of which he seemed so proud ; 
 but it was not long before I obtained the same mark of 
 distinction. 
 
 On Tuesday, the 5th day of July, I again visited Johnson. 
 He told me he had looked into the poems of a pretty voluminous 
 writer, Mr. (now Dr.) John Ogilvie, one of the Presbyterian 
 ministers of Scotland, which had lately come out, but could 
 find no thinking in them. BOSWELL. " Is there not imagina- 
 tion in them, Sir.?" Johnson. "Why^, Sir, there is in them 
 what zvas imagination, but it is no more imagination in Jiim, 
 than sound is sound in the echo. And his diction too is not 
 his own. We have long ago seen ivkite-robed innocence and 
 flower-bespangled meads" 
 
 Talking of London, he observed, " Sir, if you wish to have 
 a just notion of the magnitude of this city, you must not be 
 satisfied with seeing its great streets and squares, but must 
 survey the innumerable little lanes and courts. It is not in 
 the showy evolutions of buildings, but in the multiplicity of 
 human habitations which are crowded together, that the 
 wonderful immensity of London consists." — I have often 
 amused myself with thinking how different a place London 
 is to different people. They^ whose narrow minds are con- 
 tracted to the consideration of some particular pursuit, view 
 it only through that medium. A politican thinks of it merely 
 as the seat of government in its different departments ; a 
 grazier, as a vast market for cattle ; a mercantile man, as a 
 place where a prodigious deal of business is done upon 
 'Change ; a dramatick enthusiast, as the grand scene of 
 theatrical entertainments ; a man of pleasure, as an assemblage 
 of taverns, and the great emporium for ladies of easy virtue.
 
 Age 54.] ANOTHER SUPPER AT THE MITRE. 521 
 
 But the intellectual man is struck with it, as comprehending 
 the whole of human life in all its variety, the contemplation 
 of which is inexhaustible. 
 
 On Wednesday, July 6, he was engaged to sup with me 
 at my lodgings in Downing-street, Westminster. But on the 
 preceding night my landlord having behaved very rudely 
 to me and some company who were with me, I had resolved 
 not to remain another night in his house. I was exceedingly 
 uneasy at the awkward appearance I supposed I should make 
 to Johnson and the other gentlemen whom I had invited, not 
 being able to receive them at home, and being obliged to 
 order supper at the Mitre : I went to Johnson in the morning 
 and talked of it as of a serious distress. He laughed, and 
 said, " Consider, Sir, how insignificant this will appear a 
 twelvemonth hence." — Were this consideration to be applied 
 to most of the little vexatious incidents of life, by which our 
 quiet is too often disturbed, it would prevent many painful 
 sensations. I have tried it frequently with good effect. " There 
 is nothing, (continued he,) in this mighty misfortune ; nay, 
 we shall be better at the Mitre." I told him that I had been 
 at Sir John Fielding's office, complaining of my landlord, and 
 had been informed, that though I had taken my lodgings for 
 a year, I might, upon proof of his bad behaviour, quit when I 
 pleased, without being under an obligation to pay rent for any 
 longer time than while I possessed them. The fertility of 
 Johnson's mind could shew itself even upon so small a matter 
 as this. " Why, Sir, (said he,) I suppose this must be the law, 
 since you have been told so in Bow-street. But if your 
 landlord could hold you to your bargain, and tlic lodgings 
 should be yours for a year, you may certainly use them as 
 you think fit. So, Sir, you may quarter two life-guardmen 
 upon him; or you may send the greatest scoundrel you can 
 find into your apartments ; or you may say that you want to 
 make some experiments in natural philosophy, and may 
 burn a large quantity of asafoetida in his house." 
 
 I had as my guests this evening at the Mitre Tavern, Dr. 
 Johnson, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Thomas Davies, Mr. Eccles, an 
 Irish gentleman for whose agreeable company I was obliged to 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 322 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 IMr. Davies, and the Reverend ]\Ir. John Ogilvie/ who was 
 desirous of being in company with my illustrious friend, while 
 I, in my turn, was proud to have the honour of shewing one of 
 my countrymen upon what easy terms Johnson permitted me 
 to live with him. 
 
 Goldsmith, as usual, endeavoured, with too much eagerness, 
 to shine, and disputed very warmly with Johnson against the 
 well-known maxim of the British constitution, " the King can 
 do no wrong;" affirming, that "what was morally false could 
 not be politically true ; and as the King might, in the exercise 
 of his regal power, command and cause the doing of what was 
 wrong, it certainly might be said, in sense and in reason, that he 
 could do wrong." JOHNSON. " Sir, you are to consider, that 
 in our constitution, according to its true principles, the King 
 is the head, he is supreme ; he is above every thing, and there 
 is no power by which he can be tried. Therefore, it is. Sir, that 
 we hold the King can do no wrong; that whatever may happen 
 to be wrong in government may not be above our reach, by 
 being ascribed to majesty. Redress is always to be had against 
 oppression, by punishing the immediate agents. The King, 
 though he should command, cannot force a Judge to condemn 
 a man unjustly ; therefore it is the Judge whom we prosecute 
 and punish. Political institutions are formed upon the consider- 
 ation of what will most frequently tend to the good of the 
 whole, although now and then exceptions may occur. Thus 
 it is better in general that a nation should have a supreme 
 legislative power, although it may at times be abused. And 
 then. Sir, there is this consideration, that if the abuse be 
 enormous, Nature luill rise up, and claiming her original rights, 
 overturn a corrupt political system!^ I mark this animated 
 sentence with peculiar pleasure, as a noble instance of that truly 
 dignified spirit of freedom which ever glowed in his heart, 
 
 ^ The Northern bard mentioned p. 320. When I asked Dr. Johnson's 
 permission to introduce him, he obHgingly agreed ; adding, however, with a 
 sly pleasantry, " But he must give us none of his poetry." It is remarkable 
 that Johnson and Churchill, however much they differed in other points, 
 agreed on this subject. See Churchill's "Journey." It is, however, but justice 
 to Dr. Ogilvie to observe, that his " Day of Judgment" has no inconsiderable 
 share of merit. 
 
 {
 
 Age 54.] MONARCHY— ARBUTHXOT—SCOTLAND. 323 
 
 though he was charged with slavish tenets by superficial 
 observers ; because he was at all t.'mes indignant against that 
 false patriotism, that pretended love of freedom, that unruly 
 restlessness, which is inconsistent with the stable authority 
 of any good government. 
 
 This generous sentiment, which he uttered with great fervour, 
 struck me exceedingly, and stirred my blood to that pitch of 
 fancied resistance, the possibility of which I am glad to keep in 
 mind, but to which I trust I never shall be forced. 
 
 "Great abilities (said he) are not requisite for an Historian ; 
 for in historical composition, all the greatest powers of the 
 human mind are quiescent. He has facts ready to his hand : so 
 there is no exercise of invention. Imagination is not required 
 in any high degree : only about as much as is used in the lower 
 kinds of poetry. Some penetration, accuracy, and colouring, 
 will fit a man for the task, if he can give the application which 
 is necessary." 
 
 "Bayle's Dictionary is a very useful work for those to consult 
 who love the biographical part of literature, which is what 
 I love most." 
 
 Talking of the eminent writers in Queen Anne's reign, he 
 observed, " I think Dr. Arbuthnot the first man among them. 
 He was the most universal genius, being an excellent physician, 
 a man of deep learning, and a man of much humour. IMr, 
 Addison was, to be sure, a great man ; his learning was not 
 profound ; but his morality, his humour, and his elegance of 
 writing, set him very high." 
 
 Mr. Ogilvie was unlucky enough to choose for the topick of 
 his conversation the praises of h.'s native country. He begr.n 
 with saying, that there was very rich land around Edinburgh. 
 Goldsmith, who had studied physick there, contradicted this, 
 very untruly, with a sneering laugh. Disconcerted a little by 
 this, jMr. Ogilvie then took a new ground, where, I suppose, he 
 thought himself perfectly safe ; for he observed, that Scotland 
 had a great many noble wild prospects. JOHNSON. " I believe. 
 Sir, you have a great many. Norway, too, has noble wild 
 prospects ; and Lapland is remarkable for prodigious noble wild 
 prospects. But, Sir, let me tell you, the noblest prospect which 
 
 Y 2
 
 32+ BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 a Scotchman ever sees, is the high-road that leads him to 
 England ! " This unexpected and pointed sally produced a roar 
 of applause. After all, however, those who admire the rude 
 grandeur of Nature cannot deny it to Caledonia. 
 
 On Saturday, July 9,^ I found Johnson surrounded with a 
 numerous levee, but have not preserved any part of his con- 
 versation. On the 14th we had another evening by ourselves at 
 the Mitre. It happening to be a very rainy right, I made some 
 common-place observations on the relaxation of nerves and 
 depression of spirits which such weather occasioned;^ adding, 
 however, that it was good for the vegetable creation. Johnson, 
 who, as we have already seen, denied that the temperature of 
 the air had any influence on the human frame, answered, with 
 a smile of ridicule, " Why yes. Sir, it is good for vegetables, and 
 for the animals who eat those vegetables, and for the animals 
 who eat those animals." This observation of his, aptly enough 
 
 ^ [In this July Johnson wrote the following letter to his stepdaughter, 
 Lucy Porter, who had just received ten thousand pounds by a legacy from 
 her brother. She spent nearly a third of it in building herself a house at 
 Lichfield. 
 
 "Julys, 1763. 
 
 " My dearest Dear, — I am extremely glad that so much prudence and 
 virtue as yours is at last awarded with so large a fortune, and doubt not but 
 that the excellence which you have shewn in circumstances of difficulty will 
 continue the same in the convenience of wealth. 
 
 " I have not written to you sooner, having nothing to say, which you would 
 not easily suppose — nothing but that I love you and wish you happy ; of which 
 you may be always assured, whether I write or not. 
 
 " I have had an inflammation in my eyes ; but it is much better, and will 
 be, I hope, soon quite well. 
 
 '• Be so good as to let me know whether you design to stay at Lichfield this 
 summer ; if you do, I purpose to come down. I shall bring Frank with me ; 
 so that Kitty must contrive to make two beds, or get a servant's bed at the 
 Three Crowns, which may be as well. As I suppose she may want sheets, 
 and table linen, and such things, I have sent ten pounds, which she may lay 
 out in conveniences. I will pay her for our board what you think proper ; I 
 thin': a guinea a week for me and the boy. 
 
 " Be pleased to give my love to Kitty. — I am, my dearest love, your most 
 humbie servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson." 
 — Pearson MSS.] 
 
 - [Johnson would suffer none of his friends to fill up chasms in conversa- 
 tion with remarks on the weather : " Let us not talk of the weather." — 
 BURNEY.]
 
 Age 54-] TALK OF THE WEATHER— RHYME. 325 
 
 introduced a good supper ; and I soon forgot, in Johnson's 
 company, the influence of a moist atmosphere. 
 
 FeeHng myself now quite at ease as his companion, though I 
 had all possible reverence for him, I expressed a regret that I 
 could not be so easy with my father, though he was not much 
 older than Johnson, and certainly however respectable, had not 
 more learning and greater abilities to depress me. I asked 
 him the reason of this. JOHNSON. " Why, Sir, I am a man of 
 the world. I live in the world, and I take, in some degree, 
 the colour of the world as it moves along. Your father is a 
 Judge in a remote part of the island, and all his notions are 
 taken from the old world. Besides, Sir, there must always be a 
 struggle between a father and a son, while one aims at power, 
 and the other at independence." I said, I was afraid my father 
 would force me to be a lawyer. JOHNSON. " Sir, you need not 
 be afraid of his forcing you to be a laborious practising lawyer ; 
 that is not in his power. For as the proverb says, ' One man 
 may lead a horse to the water, but twenty cannot make him 
 drink.' He may be displeased that you are not what he wishes 
 you to be ; but that displeasure will not go far. If he insists 
 only on your having as much law as is necessary for a man of 
 property, and then endeavours to get you into Parliament, 
 he is quite in the right." 
 
 He enlarged very convincingly upon the excellence of rhyme 
 over blank verse in English poetry. I mentioned to him that 
 Dr. Adam Smith, in his lectures upon composition, when I 
 studied under him in the College of Glasgow, had maintained 
 the same opinion strenuously, and I repeated some of his 
 arguments. JOHNSON. " Sir, I was once in company with 
 Smith, and we did not take to "each other ; but had I known 
 that he loved rhyme as much as you tell me he does, I should 
 have HUGGED him." 
 
 Talking of those who denied the truth of Christianity, he 
 said, " It is always easy to be on the negative side. If a man 
 were now to deny that there is salt upon the table, you could 
 not reduce him to an absurdity. Come, let us try this a little 
 further. I deny that Canada is taken, and I can support my 
 denial by pretty good arguments. The French are a much more
 
 326 BOS WELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. ■ [1763. 
 
 numerous people than \vc ; and it is not likely that they would 
 allow us to take it. ' But the ministry have assured us, in all 
 the formality of the Gazette, that it is taken.' — Very true. But 
 the ministry have put us to an enormous expence by the war in 
 America, and it is their interest to persuade us that we have 
 got something for our money. — ' But the fact is confirmed by 
 thousands of men who were at the taking of it.' — Ay, but these 
 men have still more interest in deceiving us. They don't want 
 that you should think the French have beat them, but that 
 they have beat the French. Now suppose you should go over 
 and find that it really is taken, that would only satisfy yourself; 
 for when you come home we will not believe you. We will say, 
 you have been bribed. — Yet, Sir, notwithstanding all these 
 plausible objections, we have no doubt that Canada is really 
 ours. Such is the weight of common testimony. How much 
 stronger are the evidences of the Christian religion } " 
 
 " Idleness is a disease which must be combated ; but I would 
 not advise a rigid adherence to a particular plan of study. I my- 
 self have never persisted in any plan for two days together, 
 A man ought to read just as inclination leads him : for what 
 he reads as a task will do him little good, A young man 
 should read five hours in a day, and so may acquire a great 
 deal of knowledge." 
 
 To a man of vigorous intellect and ardent curiosity like his 
 own, reading without a regular plan may be beneficial ; though 
 even such a man must submit to it, if he would attain a full 
 understanding of any of the sciences. 
 
 To such a degree of unrestrained frankness had he now 
 accustomed me, that in the course of this evening I talked of 
 the numerous reflections which had been thrown out against 
 him, on account of his having accepted a pension from his 
 present Majesty, " Why, Sir, (said he, with a hearty laugh,) it 
 is a mighty foolish noise that they make.^ I have accepted of a 
 pension as a reward which has been thought due to my literary 
 merit ; and now that I have this pension, I am the same man in 
 
 1 When I mentioned the same idle clamour to him -several years afterwards, 
 he said, with a smile, " I wish my pension were twice as large, that they 
 misrht make twice as much noise." 
 
 i
 
 Age 54.] NEGATION— READING -JOHNSON'S JACOBITISM. 327 
 
 every respect that I have ever been ; I retain the same prin- 
 ciples. It is true, that I cannot now curse (smiling) the 
 House of Hanover; nor would it be decent for me to drink 
 King James's health in the wine that King George gives me 
 money to pay for. But, Sir, I think that the pleasure of curs- 
 ing the House of Hanover, and drinking King James's health, 
 are amply overbalanced by three hundred pounds a year." 
 
 There was here, most certainly, an affectation of more 
 Jacobitism than he really had ; and indeed an intention of 
 admitting, for the moment, in a much greater extent than it 
 really existed, the charge of disaffection imputed to him by the 
 world, merely for the purpose of shewing how dexterously he 
 could repel an attack, even though he were placed in the most 
 disadvantageous position ; for I have heard him declare, that 
 if holding up his right hand would have secured victory at 
 Culloden to Prince Charles's army, he was not sure he would 
 have held it up ; so little confidence had he in the right claimed 
 by the House of Stuart, and so fearful was he of the consequences 
 of another revolution on the throne of Great-Britain ; and Mr. 
 Topham Beauclerk assured me, he had heard him say this before 
 he had his pension. At another time he said to Mr. Langton, 
 " Nothing has ever offered, that has made it worth my while to 
 consider the question fully." He, however, also said to the 
 same gentleman, talking of King James the Second, " It was 
 become impossible for him to reign any longer in this country." 
 He no doubt had an early attachment to the House of Stuart ; 
 but his zeal had cooled as his reason strengthened. Indeed I 
 heard him once say, " that after the death of a violent 
 Whig, with whom he used to contend with great eagernes?, 
 he felt his Toryism much abated." ' I suppose he meant 
 Mr. Walmsley. 
 
 Yet there is no doubt that at earlier periods he was wont often 
 to exercise both his pleasantry and ingenuity in talking Jaco- 
 bitism. My much respected friend. Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of 
 Salisbury, has favoured me with the following admirable instance 
 from his Lordship's own recollection. One day when dining at 
 
 ^ Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit. p. 420.
 
 328 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 old Mr. Langton's, where Miss Roberts, his niece, was one of the 
 company, Johnson, with his usual complacent attention to the 
 fair sex, took her by the hand and said, " My dear, I hope you 
 are a Jacobite." Old Mr. Langton, who, though a high and 
 steady Tory, was attached to the present Royal Family, seemed 
 offended, and asked Johnson, with great warmth, what he could 
 mean by putting such a question to his niece .-' " Why, Sir, 
 (said Johnson,) I meant no offence to your niece, I meant her 
 a great compliment. A Jacobite, Sir, believes in the divine 
 right of Kings. He that believes in the divine right of Kings 
 believes in a Divinity. A Jacobite believes in the divine right 
 of Bishops. He that believes in the divine right of Bishops, 
 believes in the divine authority of the Christian religion. 
 Therefore, Sir, a Jacobite is neither an Atheist nor a Deist. 
 That cannot be said of a Whig ; for Whigisvi is a negation 
 of all principle y 
 
 He advised me, when abroad, to be as much as I could with 
 the Professors in the Universities, and with the Clergy ; for from 
 their conversation I might expect the best accounts of every 
 thing in whatever country I should be, with the additional 
 advantage of keeping my learning alive. 
 
 It will be observed, that when giving me advice as to my 
 travels, Dr. Johnson did not dwell upon cities, and palaces, and 
 pictures, and shows, and Arcadian scenes. He was of Lord 
 Essex's opinion, who advises his kinsman, Roger Earl of 
 Rutland, "rather to go a hundred miles to speak with one 
 wise man, than five miles to see a fair town." 2 
 
 I described to him an impudent fellow from Scotland, who 
 affected to be a savage, and railed at all established systems. 
 Johnson. " There is nothing surprising in this. Sir. He 
 wants to make himself conspicuous. He would tumble in a 
 hogstye, as long as you looked at him and called to him to 
 
 ^ He used to tell, with great humour, from my relation to him, the following 
 little story of my early years which was literally true : " Boswell, in the year 
 J 745, was a fine boy, wore a white cockade, and prayed for King James, till 
 one of his uncles (General Cochran) gave him a shilling on condition that he 
 would pray for King George, which he accordingly did. So you see (says 
 Boswell) that Whigs of all ngcs arc made the same ivay" 
 
 ' Letter to Rutland on Travel, i6mo. 1596.
 
 Age 54-] JACOBITES— WHIGS. 329 
 
 come out. But let him alone, never mind him, and he'll soon 
 give it over," 
 
 I added that the same person maintained that there was no 
 distinction between virtue and vice. JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, if 
 the fellow does not think as he speaks, he is lying ; and I see 
 not what honour he can propose to himself from having the 
 character of a lyar. But if he does really think that there is 
 no distinction between virtue and vice, why, Sir, when he leaves 
 our houses let us count our spoons." 
 
 Sir David Dalrymple, now one of the Judges of Scotland by 
 the title of Lord Hailes,^ had contributed much to increase my 
 high opinion of Johnson, on account of his writings, long before 
 I attained to a personal acquaintance with him ; I, in return, had 
 informed Johnson of Sir David's eminent character for learning 
 and religion ; and Johnson was so much pleased, that at one of 
 our evening meetings he gave him for his toast. I at this time 
 kept up a very frequent correspondence with Sir David ; and I 
 read to Dr. Johnson to-night the following passage from the 
 letter which I had last received from him : 
 
 " It gives me pleasure to think that you have obtained the 
 friendship of Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is one of the best moral 
 writers which England has produced. At the same time, I envy 
 you the free and undisguised converse with such a man. May 
 I beg you to present my best respects to him, and to assure him 
 of the veneration which I entertain for the authour of the 
 Rambler and of Rasselas t Let me recomn:iend this last work 
 to you ; with the Rambler you certainly are acquainted. In 
 Rasselas you will see a tender-hearted operator, who probes the 
 wound only to heal it. Swift, on the contrary, mangles human 
 nature, lie cuts and slashes, as if he took pleasure in the 
 operation, like the tyrant who said, Ita feri lit se sentiat c7nori." 
 
 Johnson seemed to be much gratified by this just and well- 
 turned compliment. 
 
 He recommended to me to keep a journal of my life, full and 
 
 1 [This learned and excellent person was born in 1726 ; educated at Eton, 
 and afterwards at Utrecht ; called to the Scotch bar in 174S ; a lord of session 
 in 1766. He died in 1792. Rewrote some papers in the U 'orld 3.nd. iMirror, 
 and published several original tracts on religious, historical, and antiquarian 
 subjects, and republished a great many more. — Croker.]
 
 330 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 unreserved. He said it would be a very good exercise, and 
 would yield me great satisfaction when the particulars were 
 faded from my remembrance. I was uncommonly fortunate in 
 having had a previous coincidence of opinion with him upon this 
 subject, for I had kept such a journal for some time ; and it was 
 no small pleasure to me to have this to tell him, and to receive 
 his approbation. He counselled me to keep it private, and said 
 I might surely have a friend who would burn it in case of my 
 death. From this habit I have been enabled to give the world 
 so many anecdotes, which would otherwise have been lost to 
 posterity. I mentioned that I was afraid I put into my journal 
 too many little incidents. JOHNSON. " There is nothing, Sir, 
 too little for so little a creature as man. It is by studying little 
 things that we attain the great art of having as little misery and 
 as much happiness as possible." 
 
 Next morning Mr. Dempster happened to call on me, and was 
 so much struck even with the imperfect account which I gave 
 him of Dr. Johnson's conversation, that to his honour be it 
 recorded, when I complained that drinking port and sitting up 
 late with him, affected my nerves for some time after, he said, 
 " One had better be palsied at eighteen than not keep company 
 with such a man." 
 
 On Tuesday, July 18, I found tall Sir Thomas Robinson/ 
 sitting with Johnson. Sir Thomas said that the King of Prussia 
 valued himself upon three things ; — upon being a hero, a 
 musician, and an authour. JOHNSON. " Pretty well. Sir, for 
 one man. As to his being an authour, I have not looked at his 
 poetry; but his prose is poor stuff. He writes just as you may 
 
 ^ [The elder brother of the first Lord Rokeby, called long Sir Thomas 
 Robinson, on account of his height, and to distinguish him from Sir Thomas 
 Robinson, first Lord Grantham. He was a familiar acquaintance of Lord 
 Chesterfield, and by him, as Hawkins relates, employed as a mediator with 
 Johnson, who, on his first visit, treated him very indignantly. It was on his 
 request for an epigram that Lord Chesterfield made the distich — 
 
 " Unlike my subject will I make my song. 
 It shall be witty and it sha'n't be long : " 
 
 and to whom he said in his last illness, " Ah, Sir Thomas, it will be sooner 
 over with me than it would be with you, for I am dying by inches." Lord 
 Chesterfield was very short. Sir Thomas did not long survive his witty 
 friend, and died in 1777. — Croker.]
 
 Age 54.] FREDERICK THE GREAT— JOHNSON'S LIBRARY. 331 
 
 suppose Voltaire's footboy to do, who has been his amanuensis. 
 He has such parts as the valet might have, and about as much 
 of the colouring of the style as might be got by transcribing his 
 works." When I was at Ferney, I repeated this to Voltaire, in 
 order to reconcile him somewhat to Johnson, whom he, in 
 affecting the English mode of expression, had previously 
 characterised as "a superstitious dog;" but after hearing such 
 a criticism on Frederick the Great, with whom he was then on 
 bad terms, he exclaimed, " An honest fellow ! " 
 
 But I think the criticism much too severe ; for the " Memoirs 
 of the House of Brandenburgh " are written as well as many 
 works of that kind. His poetry, for the style of which he 
 himself makes a frank apology, " Jargonnant tin Franqois 
 barbare," though fraught with pernicious ravings of infidelity, 
 has, in many places, great animation, and in some a pathetick 
 tenderness. 
 
 Upon this contemptuous animadversion on the King of Prussia, 
 I observed to Johnson, " It would seem then, Sir, that much 
 less parts are necessary to make a King, than to make an 
 Authour : for the King of Prussia is confessedly the greatest 
 King now in Europe, yet you think he makes a very poor figure 
 as an authour." 
 
 Mr. Levet this day shewed me Dr. Johnson's library, which 
 was contained in two garrets over his Chambers, where Lintot, 
 son of the celebrated bookseller of that name, had formerly 
 his warehouse. I found a number of good books, but very 
 dusty and in great confusion. The floor was strewed with 
 manuscript leaves, in Johnson's own handwriting, which I beheld 
 with a degree of veneration, supposing they perhaps might 
 contain portions of the Rambler, or of Rasselas. I observed an 
 apparatus for chymical experiments, of which Johnson was all 
 his life very fond. The place seemed to be very favourable for 
 retirement and meditation. Johnson told me, that he went up 
 thither without mentioning it to his servant when he wanted to 
 study, secure from interruption ; for he would not allow his servant 
 to say he was not at home when he really was. " A servant's strict 
 regard for truth (said he) must be weakened by such a practice. 
 A philosopher may know that it is merely a form of denial ; but
 
 332 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 few servants arc such nice distinguishers. If I accustom a 
 servant to tell a lie for me, have I not reason to apprehend that 
 he will tell many lies for hwtself." I am, however, satisfied that 
 every servant, of any degree of intelligence, understands saying 
 his master is not at home, not at all as the affirmation of a fact, 
 but as customary words, intimating that his master wishes not to 
 be seen ; so that there can be no bad effect from it 
 
 Mr. Temple, now vicar of St. Gluvias, Cornwall,^ who had 
 been my intimate friend for many years, had at this time 
 chambers in Farrar's-buildings, at the bottom of Inner Temple- 
 lane, which he kindly lent me upon my quitting my lodgings, 
 he being to return to Trinity Hall, Cambridge. I found 
 them particularly convenient for me, as they were so near 
 Dr. Johnson's. 
 
 On Wednesday, July 20, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Dempster, and my 
 uncle. Dr. Boswell, who happened to be now in London, supped 
 with me at these Chambers. JOHNSON. " Pity is not natural to 
 man. Children are always cruel. Savages are always cruel. 
 Pity is acquired and improv^ed by the cultivation of reason. We 
 may have uneasy sensations from seeing a creature in distress, 
 without pity ; for we have not pity unless we wish to relieve them. 
 When I am on my way to dine with a friend, and finding it late, 
 have bid the coachman make haste, if I happen to attend when 
 he whips his horses, I may feel unpleasantly that the animals are 
 put to pain, but I do not wish him to desist. No, Sir, I wish 
 him to drive on." 
 
 Mr. Alexander Donaldson, bookseller, of Edinburgh, had for 
 some time opened a shop in London, and sold his cheap editions 
 of the most popular English books, in defiance of the supposed 
 common-law right of Literary Property. Johnson, though he 
 concurred in the opinion which was afterwards sanctioned by a 
 judgement of the House of Lords, that there was no such right, 
 
 ^ [William Johnson Temple, LL.B., of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. Boswell 
 had formed an intimacy with this gentleman at the University of Glasgow. 
 Temple's sketch of Gray's character, adopted both by Mason and Johnson, 
 has transmitted his name to posterity. For some particulars of his prefer- 
 ment and works, see Mitford's Cray, p. lii. He died Aug. 8. 1796. — 
 Markland.] [Letters of Boswell to this friend of his were discovered at 
 Boulogne in a parcel of waste paper, and pubhshed in 1857.] 
 
 \
 
 Age 54] PITY— COPYRIGHT— HUME'S STYLE. 333 
 
 was at this time very angry that the Booksellers of London, for 
 
 whom he uniformly professed much regard, should suffer from an 
 
 invasion of what they had ever considered to be secure ; and he 
 
 was loud and violent against Mr. Donaldson. " He is a fellow 
 
 who takes advantage of the law to injure his brethren ; for 
 
 notwithstanding that the statute secures only fourteen years of 
 
 exclusive right, it has always been understood by the trade, that 
 
 he, who buys the copyright of a book from the authour obtains 
 
 a perpetual property ; and upon that belief, numberless bargains 
 
 are made to transfer that property after the expiration of the 
 
 statutory term. Now Donaldson, I say, takes advantage here, 
 
 of people who have really an equitable title from usage ; and if 
 
 we consider how few of the books, of which they buy the 
 
 property, succeed so well as to bring profit, we should be of 
 
 opinion that the term of fourteen years is too short ; it should be 
 
 sixty years." Dempster. " Donaldson, Sir, is anxious for the 
 
 encouragement of literature. He reduces the price of books, 
 
 so that poor students may buy them," JOHNSON (laughing). 
 
 " Well, Sir, allowing that to be his motive, he is no better 
 
 than Robin Hood, who robbed the rich in order to give to 
 
 the poor." 
 
 It is remarkable, that when the great question concerning 
 Literary Property came to be ultimately tried before the 
 supreme tribunal of this country, in consequence of the very 
 spirited exertions of Mr. Donaldson, Dr. Johnson was zealous 
 against a perpetuity ; but he thought that the term of the 
 exclusive right of authours should be considerably enlarged. 
 He was then for granting a hundred years. 
 
 The conversation now turned upon Mr. David Hume's style. 
 Johnson. " Why, Sir, his style is not English ; the structure of 
 his sentences is French. Now the French structure and the 
 English stucture may, in the nature of things, be equally good. 
 But if you allow that the English language is established, he is 
 wrong. My name might originally have been Nicholson, as well 
 as Johnson ; but were you to call me Nicholson now, you would 
 call me very absurdly." 
 
 Rousseau's treatise on the inequality of mankind was at this 
 time a fashionable topick. It gave rise to an observation by
 
 334 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763* 
 
 ]\Ir. Dempster, that the advantages of fortune and rank were 
 nothing- to a wise man, who ought to value only merit. JOHNSON, 
 " If man were a savage, Hving in the woods by himself, this 
 might be true; but in civilized society we all depend upon 
 each other, and our happiness is very much owing to the good 
 opinion of mankind. Now, Sir, in civilized society, external 
 advantages make us more respected. A man with a good coat 
 upon his back meets with a better reception than he who has a 
 bad one. Sir, you may analyse this, and say what is there in it .-* 
 But that will avail you nothing, for it is a part of a general 
 system. Pound St. Paul's church into atoms, and consider any 
 single atom ; it is, to be sure, good for nothing : but put all these 
 atoms together, and you have St. Paul's church. So it is with 
 human felicity, which is made up of many ingredients, each of 
 w4iich may be shewn to be very insignificant. In civilized 
 society, personal merit will not serve you so much as money 
 will. Sir, you may make the experiment. Go into the street 
 and give one man a lecture on morality, and another a shilling, 
 and see which will respect you most. If you wish only to 
 support nature, Sir William Petty fixes your allowance at 
 three pounds a year ; but as times are much altered, let us 
 call it six pounds. This sum will fill your belly, shelter you 
 from the weather, and even get you a strong lasting coat, 
 supposing it to be made of good bull's hide. Now, Sir, all 
 beyond this is artificial, and is desired in order to obtain a 
 greater degree of respect from our fellow-creatures. And, Sir, 
 if six hundred pounds a year procure a man more consequence, 
 and, of course, more happiness than six pounds a year, the same 
 proportion will hold as to six thousand, and so on, as far as 
 opulence can be carried. Perhaps he who has a large fortune 
 may not be so happy as he who has a small one ; but that must 
 proceed from other causes than from his having the large 
 fortune : for, ccetcris paribus, he who is rich in a civilized society 
 must be happier than he who is poor ; as riches, if properly used 
 (and it is a man's own fault if they are not), must be productive 
 of the highest advantages. Money, to be sure, of itself is of no 
 use : for its only use is to part with it. Rousseau, and all those 
 yIio deal in paradoxes, are led away by a childish desire of
 
 AGE 54] ROUSSEAU— MERIT AND WEALTH. 335 
 
 novelty.^ When I was a boy I used always to choose the wrong 
 side of a debate, because most ingenious things, that is to say, 
 most new things, could be said upon it. Sir, there is nothing for 
 which you may not muster up more plausible arguments, than 
 those which are urged against wealth and other external 
 advantages. Why, now, there is stealing ; why should it be 
 thought a crime .-* W^hen we consider by what unjust methods 
 property has been often acquired, and that what was unjustly 
 got it must be unjust to keep, where is the harm in one man's 
 taking the property of another from hiru .'' Besides, Sir, when 
 we consider the bad use that many people make of their 
 property, and how much better use the thief may make of it, it 
 may be defended as a very allowable practice. Yet, Sir, the 
 experience of mankind has discovered stealing to be so very bad 
 a thing, that they make no scruple to hang a man for it. When 
 I was running about this town a very poor fellow, I was a great 
 arguer for the advantages of poverty; but I was, at the same 
 time, very sorry to be poor. Sir, all the arguments which are 
 brought to represent poverty as no evil, shew it to be evidently 
 a great evil. You never find people labouring to convince you 
 that you may live very happily upon a plentiful fortune. — So 
 you hear people talking how miserable a King must be; and 
 yet they all wish to be in his place." 
 
 It was suggested that Kings must be unhappy because 
 they are deprived of the greatest of all satisfactions, easy 
 and unreserved society. JOHNSON. " That is an ill-founded 
 notion. Being a King does not exclude a man from such 
 society. Great Kings have always been social. The King 
 of Prussia, the only great King at present, is very social. 
 Charles the Second, the last King of England who was a 
 man of parts, was social ; and our Henrys and Edwards were 
 all social." 
 
 Mr. Dempster having endeavoured to maintain that intrinsick 
 merit oiigJit to make the only distinction amongst mankind, 
 
 ^ [Johnson told Dr. Burney that Goldsmith said, when he first began to 
 write, he determined to commit to paper nothing but what was new ; but he 
 afterwards found that what was new was generally false, and from that time 
 was no longer solicitous about novelty.— BURNEY.]
 
 336 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSOX. [1763 
 
 Johnson. "Why, Sir, mankind have found that this cannot 
 be. How shall we determine the proportion of intrinsick 
 merit ? Were that to be the only distinction amongst 
 mankind, we should soon quarrel about the degrees of it. 
 Were all distinctions abolished, the strongest would not long 
 acquiesce, but would endeavour to obtain a superiority by their 
 bodily strength. But, Sir, as subordination is very necessary 
 for society, and contentions for superiority very dangerous, 
 mankind, that is to say, all civilized nations, have settled it 
 upon a plain invariable principle. A man is born to hereditary 
 rank ; or his being appointed to certain offices gives him a 
 certain rank. Subordination tends greatly to human happiness. 
 Were we all upon an equality, we should have no other enjoy- 
 ment than mere animal pleasure." 
 
 I said, I consider distinction of rank to be of so much 
 importance in civilized society, that if I were asked on the 
 same day to dine with the first Duke in England, and with the 
 first man in Britain for genius, I should hesitate which to 
 prefer. JOHNSON. " To be sure, Sir, if you were to dine only 
 once, and it were never to be known where you dined, you 
 would choose rather to dine with the first man for genius ; 
 but to gain most respect, you should dine with the first Duke 
 in England. For nine people in ten that you meet with, 
 would have a higher opinion of you for having dined with a 
 Duke ; and the great genius himself would receive you better, 
 because you had been with the great Duke." 
 
 He took care to guard himself against any possible suspicion 
 that his settled principles of reverence for rank and respect for 
 wealth were at all owing to mean or interested motives ; for he 
 asserted his own independence as a literary man. " No man 
 (said he) who ever lived by literature, has lived more independently 
 than I have done." He said he had taken longer time than he 
 needed to have done in composing his Dictionary. He received 
 our compliments upon that great work with complacency, and 
 told us that the Academy delta Criisca could scarcely believe 
 that it was done by one man. 
 
 Next morning I found him alone, and have preserved the 
 following fragments of his conversation. Of a gentleman who
 
 Age 54.] INFIDELITY— DA VID HUME. 337 
 
 was mentioned, he said, " I have not met with any man for a 
 long time who has given me such general displeasure. He is 
 totally unfixed in his principles, and wants to puzzle other 
 people." I said his principles had been poisoned by a noted 
 infidel writer, but that he was nevertheless, a benevolent, good 
 man. JOHNSON. " We can have no dependence upon that 
 instinctive, that constitutional goodness, which is not founded 
 upon principle. 1 grant you that such a man may be a very 
 amiable member of society. I can conceive him placed in such 
 a situation that he is not much tempted to deviate from what is 
 right ; and as every man prefers virtue, when there is not some 
 strong incitement to transgress its precepts, I can conceive him 
 doing nothing wrong. But if such a man stood in need of 
 money, I should not like to trust him ; and I should certainly 
 not trust him with young ladies, for tJiere, there is always 
 temptation. Hume, and other sceptical innovators, are vain 
 men, and will gratify themselves at any expence. Truth will 
 not afford sufficient food to their vanity ; so they have betaken 
 themselves to errour. Truth, Sir, is a cow which will yield such 
 people no more milk, and so they are gone to milk the bull. 
 If I could have allowed myself to gratify my vanity at the ex- 
 pence of truth, what fame might I have acquired t Every thing 
 which Hume has advanced against Christianity had passed 
 through my mind long before he wrote. Always remember 
 this, that after a system is well settled upon positive evidence, a 
 few partial objections ought not to shake it. The human mind 
 is so limited, that it cannot take in all the parts of a subject, so 
 that there may be objections raised against any thing. There 
 are objections against 2. plcimm, and objections against a vacuum ; 
 yet one of them must certainly be true." 
 
 I mentioned Hume's argument against the belief of miracles, 
 that it is more probable that the witnesses to the truth of them 
 are mistaken, or speak falsely, than that the miracles should 
 be true. JOHNSON. " Why, Sir, the great difficulty of proving 
 miracles should make us very cautious in believing them. But 
 let us consider ; although GoD has made Nature to operate by 
 certain fixed laws, yet it is not unreasonable to think that he 
 may suspend those laws, in order to establish a system highly 
 
 VOL. I. Z
 
 338 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 advantageous to mankind. Now the Christian Religion is a 
 most beneficial system, as it gives us light and certainty where 
 we were before in darkness and doubt. The miracles which 
 prove it are attested by men who had no interest in deceiving 
 us ; but who, on the contrary, were told that they should suffer 
 persecution, and did actually lay down their lives in confirmation 
 of the truth of the facts which they asserted. Indeed, for some 
 centuries the heathens did not pretend to deny the miracles ; 
 but said they were performed by the aid of evil spirits. This is 
 a circumstance of great weight. Then, Sir, when we take the 
 proofs derived from prophecies which have been so exactly 
 fulfilled, we have most satisfactory evidence. Supposing a 
 miracle possible, as to which, in my opinion, there can be no 
 doubt, we have as strong evidence for the miracles in support 
 of Christianity, as the nature of the thing admits." 
 
 At night, Mr. Johnson and I supped in a private room at the 
 Turk's Head coffee-house, in the Strand.^ " I encourage this 
 house, (said he,) for the mistress of it is a good civil woman, and 
 has not much business." 
 
 " Sir, I love the acquaintance of young people ; because, in 
 the first place, I don't like to think myself growing old. In the 
 next place, young acquaintances must last longest, if they do 
 last ; and then. Sir, young men have more virtue than old men ; 
 they have more generous sentiments in every respect. I love 
 the young dogs of this age, they have more wit and humour and 
 knowledge of life than we had ; but then the dogs are not so 
 good scholars. Sir, in my early years I read very hard. It is a 
 sad reflection, but a true one, that I knew almost as much at 
 eighteen as I do now.^ My judgment, to be sure, was not so 
 good ; but I had all the facts. I remember very well, when 
 I was at Oxford, an old gentleman said to me, * Young man, ply 
 your book diligently now, and acquire a stock of knowledge ; 
 for when years come upon you, you will find that poring upon 
 books will be but an irksome task.' " 
 
 ^ [A coffee-house over against Catherine Street, in the Strand, recently 
 rebuilt and called " Wright's Hotel." — P. Cunningham.] 
 
 ■^ [His great period of study was from the age of twelve to that of eighteen ; 
 as he told Mr. Langton, who ga^■e me this information. — Malone.]
 
 Age 54. J MIRACLES— LOVE FOR THE YOUNG— READING. 339 
 
 This account of his reading, given by himself in plain words, 
 sufficiently confirms what I had already advanced upon the 
 disputed question as to his application. It reconciles any 
 seeming inconsistency in his way of talking upon it at different 
 times; and shews that idleness and reading hard were with him 
 relative terms, the import of which, as used by him, m.ust be 
 gathered from a comparison with what scholars of different 
 degrees of ardour and assiduity have been known to do. And 
 let it be remembered, that he was now talking spontaneously, 
 and expressing his genuine sentiments ; whereas at other times 
 he might be induced, from his spirit of contradiction, or more 
 properly from his love of argumentative contest, to speak lightly 
 of his own application to study. It is pleasing to consider that 
 the old gentleman's gloomy prophecy as to the irksomeness of 
 books to men of an advanced age, which is too often fulfilled, 
 was so far from being verified in Johnson, that his ardour for 
 literature never failed, and his last writings had more ease 
 and vivacity than any of his earlier productions. 
 
 He mentioned it to me now, for the first time, that he had 
 been distressed by melancholy, and for that reason had been 
 obliged to fly from study and meditation to the dissipating 
 variety of life. Against melancholy he recommended constant 
 occupation of mind, a great deal of exercise, moderation in 
 eating and drinking, and especially to shun drinking at night. 
 He said melancholy people were apt to fly to intemperance for 
 relief, but that it sunk them much deeper in misery. He 
 observed, that labouring men who work hard, and live sparingly, 
 are seldom or never troubled with low spirits. 
 
 He again insisted on the duty of maintaining subordination 
 of rank. " Sir, I would no more deprive a nobleman of his 
 respect than of his money. I consider myself as acting a part 
 in the great system of society, and I do to others as I would 
 have them do to me. I would behave to a nobleman as I should 
 expect he would behave to me, were I a nobleman, and he 
 Sam. Johnson. Sir, there is one Mrs. Macaulay,^ in this town, 
 a great republican. One day when I was at her house, I put on 
 
 ^ This one Mrs. Macaulay was the same personage who afterwards made 
 herself so much known as " the celebrated female historian." 
 
 Z 2
 
 340 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 a very grave countenance, and said to her, ' Madam, I am now 
 become a convert to your way of thinking, I am convinced that 
 all mankind are upon an equal footing ; and to give you an 
 unquestionable proof. Madam, that I am in earnest, here is 
 a very sensible, civil, well-behaved fellow-citizen, your footman ; 
 I desire that he may be allowed to sit down and dine with us." 
 I thus, Sir, shewed her the absurdity of the levelling doctrine. 
 She has never liked me since. Sir, your levellers wish to level 
 down as far as themselves ; but they cannot bear levelling tip to 
 themselves. They would all have some people umder them ; 
 why not then have some people above them .'' " 
 
 I mentioned a certain authour who disgusted me by his 
 forwardness, and by shewing no deference to noblemen into 
 whose company he was admitted. JOHNSON, " Suppose a 
 shoemaker should claim an equality with him, as he does with 
 a Lord : how he would stare. ' Why, Sir, do you stare .'' (says the 
 shoemaker). I do great service to society. 'Tis true I am paid 
 for doing it ; but so are you. Sir : and I am sorry to say it, 
 better paid than I am, for doing something not so necessary. 
 For mankind could do better without your books than without 
 my shoes.' Thus, Sir, there would be a perpetual struggle for 
 precedence were there no fixed invariable rules for the dis- 
 tinction of rank, which creates no jealousy, as it is allowed 
 to be accidental." 
 
 He said. Dr. Joseph Warton was a very agreeable man, and 
 his "Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope" a very 
 pleasing book. I wondered that he delayed so long to give 
 us the continuation of it. JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, I suppose 
 he finds himself a little disappointed, in not having been able 
 to persuade the world to be of his opinion as to Pope." 
 
 W^e have now been favoured with the concluding volume, in 
 which, to use a parliamentary expression, he has explained, so as 
 not to appear quite so adver.se to the opinion of the world, con- 
 cerning Pope, as was at first thought ; and we must all agree, that 
 his work is a most valuable accession to English literature. 
 
 A writer of deserved eminence being mentioned; Johnson said, 
 "Why, Sir, he is a man of good parts, but being originally poor, 
 he has got a love of mean company and low jocularity; a very
 
 Age 54-] LEVELLING— L^'TEREST IN THE HEBRIDES 341 
 
 bad thing, Sir. To laugh is good, and to talk is good. But you 
 ought no more to think it enough if you laugh, than you are to 
 think it enough if you talk. You may laugh in as many ways 
 as you talk ; and surely every way of talking that is practised 
 cannot be esteemed." 
 
 I spoke of Sir James Macdonald as a young man of most dis- 
 tinguished merit, who united the highest reputation at Eton and 
 Oxford, with the patriarchal spirit of a great Highland Chieftain. 
 I mentioned that Sir James had said to me, that he had never seen 
 Mr. Johnson, but he had a great respect for him, though at the same 
 time it was mixed with some degree of terrour. JOHNSON. " Sir, 
 if he were to be acquainted with me, it might lessen both." 
 
 The mention of this gentleman led us to talk of the Western 
 Islands of Scotland, to visit which he expressed a wish that then 
 appeared to me a very romantick fancy, which I little thought 
 would be afterwards realised. He told me that his father had 
 put Martin's account of those islands into his hands when he was 
 very young, and that he was highly pleased with it ; that he was 
 particularly struck with the St. Kilda man's notion that the high 
 church of Glasgow had been hollowed out of a rock ; a circum- 
 stance to which old Mr. Johnson had directed his attention. He 
 said he would go to the Hebrides with me when I returned from 
 my travels, unless some very good companion should offer when 
 I was absent, which he did not think probable ; adding, " There 
 are few people whom I take so much to as you." And when I 
 talked of my leaving England, he said with a very affectionate 
 air, "My dear Boswell, I should be very unhappy at parting, did 
 I think we were not to meet again." — I cannot too often remind 
 my readers, that although such instances of his kindness are 
 doubtless very flattering to me, yet I hope my recording them 
 will be ascribed to a better motive than to vanity ; for they afford 
 unquestionable evidence of his tenderness and complacency, 
 which some, while they were forced to acknowledge his great 
 powers, have been so strenuous to deny. 
 
 He maintained that a boy at school was the happiest of human 
 beings. I supported a different opinion, from which I have never 
 yet varied, that a man is happier : and I enlarged upon the 
 anxiety and sufferings which are endured at school. JOHNSON.
 
 342 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 "Ah! Sir, a boy's being flogged is not so severe as a man's 
 having the hiss of the world against him. Men have a soHcitudc 
 about fame ; and the greater share they have of it, the more 
 afraid they are of losing it." I silently asked myself, " Is it 
 possible that the great Samuel JOHNSON really entertains any 
 such apprehension, and is not confident that his exalted fame is 
 established upon a foundation never to be shaken }" 
 
 He this evening drank a bumper to Sir David Dalrymple, "as 
 a man of worth, a scholar, and a wit." " I have (said he,) never 
 heard of him, except from you ; but let him know my opinion 
 of him : for as he does not shew himself much in the world, 
 he should have the praise of the few who hear of him." 
 
 On Tuesday, July 26, I found Mr. Johnson alone. It was a 
 very wet day, and I again complained of the disagreeable effects 
 of such weather. JOHNSON. " Sir, this is all imagination, which 
 physicians encourage ; for man lives in air, as a fish lives in 
 water; so that if the atmosphere press heavy from above, there is 
 an equal resistance from below. To be sure, bad weather is hard 
 upon people who are obliged to be abroad ; and men cannot labour 
 so well in the open air in bad weather as in good ; but. Sir, a smith 
 or a taylor, whose work is within doors, will surely do as much 
 in rainy weather, as in fair. Some very delicate frames, indeed, 
 may be aftected by wet weather ; but not common constitutions." 
 
 We talked of the education of children ; and I asked him what 
 he thought was best to teach them first. JOHNSON. " Sir, it is 
 no matter what you teach them first, any more than what leg you 
 shall put into your breeches first. Sir, you may stand disputing 
 which is best to put in first, but in the meantime your breech is 
 bare. Sir, while you are considering which of two things you 
 should teach your child first, another boy has learnt them both." 
 
 On Thursday, July 28, we again supped in private at the Turk's 
 Head coffee-house. Johnson. " Swift has a higher reputa- 
 tion than he deserves. His excellence is strong sense ; for his 
 humour, though very well, is not remarkably good. I doubt 
 whether the ' Tale of a Tub ' be his ; for he never owned it, and 
 it is much above his usual manner." ^ 
 
 ^ This opinion was given by him more at large at a subsequent period. See 
 •Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides," 3d edit. p. 33. 
 
 \
 
 Age 54] EDUCATI0N-SIVIF7— THOMSON— SHERIDAN. 343 
 
 "Thomson, I think, had as much of the poet about him as 
 most writers. Every thing appeared to him through the 
 medium of his favourite pursuit. He could not have viewed 
 those two candles burning but with a poetical eye." 
 
 " Has not ^ a great deal of wit, Sir ? " JOIINSON. " I do 
 
 not think so, Sir. He is, indeed, continually attempting wit, 
 but he fails. And I have no more pleasure in hearing a man 
 attempting wit and failing, than in seeing a man trying to leap 
 over a ditch and tumbling into it." 
 
 He laughed heartily when I mentioned to him a saying of his 
 concerning Mr. Thomas Sheridan, which Foote took a wicked 
 pleasure to circulate. " Why, Sir, Sherry is dull, naturally 
 dull ; but it must have taken him a great deal of pains to 
 become what we now see him. Such an excess of stupidity. 
 Sir, is not in Nature." — " So, (said he,) I allowed him all his 
 own merit." 
 
 He now added, " Sheridan cannot bear me. I bring his 
 declamation to a point. I ask him a plain question, ' What 
 do you mean to teach .^ ' Besides, Sir, what influence can 
 Mr. Sheridan have upon the language of this great country, 
 by his narrow exertions } Sir, it is burning a farthing candle 
 at Dover, to shew light at Calais." 
 
 Talking of a young man ^ who was uneasy from thinking that 
 he was very deficient in learning and knowledge, he said, " A 
 man has no reason to complain who holds a middle place, and 
 has many below him; and perhaps he has not six of his years 
 above him ; — perhaps not one. Though he may not know any 
 thing perfectly, the general mass of knowledge that he has 
 acquired is considerable. Time will do for him all that is 
 wanting." 
 
 The conversation then took a philosophical turn. JOHNSON. 
 " Human experience, which is constantly contradicting theory, 
 is the great test of truth. A system, built upon the discoveries 
 of a great many minds, is always of more strength, than what is 
 
 ^ [There is no doubt that this blank must be filled with the name of 
 Tylr. Burke. See /c^^/, Aug. 15. and Sept. 15. 1773, and April 25, 177S — 
 Croker.] 
 
 ^ [No doubt Boswell himself, now about twenty-two. — Croker.]
 
 344 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON [1763. 
 
 produced by the mere workings of any one mind, which, of itself, 
 can do httlc. There is not so poor a book in the world that 
 would not be a prodigious effort were it wrought out entirely 
 by a single mind, without the aid of prior investigators. The 
 French writers are superficial, because they are not scholars, 
 and so proceed upon the mere power of their own minds ; and 
 we see how very little power they have." 
 
 " As to the Christian Religion, Sir, besides the strong evidence 
 which we have for it, there is a balance in its favour from the 
 number of great men who have been convinced of its truth, after 
 a serious consideration of the question. Grotius was an acute 
 man, a lawyer, a man accustomed to examine evidence, and he 
 was convinced. Grotius was not a recluse, but a man of the 
 world, who certainly had no bias to the side of religion. Sir 
 Isaac Newton set out an infidel, and came to be a very firm 
 believer." 
 
 He this evening again recommended to me to perambulate 
 Spain.^ I said it would amuse him to get a letter from me 
 dated at Salamancha. JOHNSON. " I love the University of 
 Salamancha ; for when the Spaniards were in doubt as to the 
 lawfulness of their conquering America, the University of 
 Salamancha gave it as their opinion that it was not lawful." 
 He spoke this with great emotion, and with that generous 
 warmth which dictated the lines in his " London," against 
 Spanish encroachment.- 
 
 I expressed my opinion of my friend Derrick as but a poor 
 writer. JOHNSON. " To be sure, Sir, he is : but you are to 
 consider that his being a literary man has got for him all that 
 he has. It has made him King of Bath, Sir, he has nothing 
 to say for himself but that he is a writer. Had he not been a 
 
 ^ I fully intended to have followed advice of such weight ; but having staid 
 much longer both in Germany and Italy than I proposed to do, and having 
 also visited Corsica, I found that I had exceeded the time allowed me by my 
 father, and hastened to P>ance in my way homewards. 
 
 2 [" Has Heaven reserved, in pity to the poor, 
 No pathless waste, or undiscovered shore? 
 No secret island in the boundless main ? 
 No peaceful desert yet unclaimed by Spain ?" — Croker.]
 
 Ace 54.] COLLECTIVE MAN—SAMUEL DERRICK. 345 
 
 writer, he must have been sweeping the crossings in the streets 
 and asking halfpence from every body that passed." 
 
 In justice, however, to the memory of Mr. Derrick, who was 
 my first tutor in the ways of London, and shewed me the town 
 in all its variety of departments both literary and sportive, the 
 particulars of which Dr. Johnson advised me to put in writing, 
 it is proper to mention what Johnson, at a subsequent period^ 
 said of him both as a writer and an editor : " Sir, I have often 
 said, that if Derrick's letters had been written by one of a more 
 established name, they would have been thought very pretty 
 letters." ^ And, " I sent Derrick to Dryden's relations to gather 
 materials for his life ; and I believe he got all that I myself 
 should have got." ^ 
 
 Poor Derrick ! I remember him with kindness. Yet I cannot 
 withhold from my readers a pleasant humourous sally which 
 could not have hurt him had he been alive, and now is per- 
 fectly harmless. In his collection of poems, there is one upon 
 entering the harbour of Dublin, his native city, after a long 
 absence. It begins thus : 
 
 " Eblana ! much lov'd city, hail ! 
 Where first I saw the light ot day." 
 
 And after a solemn reflection on his being " numbered with 
 forgotten dead," there is Ihe following stanza : 
 
 " Unless my lines protract my fame, 
 
 And those, who chance to read them, cry, 
 I knew him ! Derrick was his name, 
 In yonder tomb his ashes lie " ; 
 
 which was thus happily parodied by Mr. John Home, to whom 
 we owe the beautiful and pathetick tragedy of " Douglas " : 
 
 " Unless my deeds protract my fame, 
 And he who passes sadly sings, 
 I knew him ! Derrick was his name, 
 On yonder tree his carcase swings ! " 
 
 I doubt much whether the amiable and ingenious authour of 
 these burlesque lines will recollect them ; for they were produced 
 
 1 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 2d edit. p. 104. 
 ^ Ibid. p. 142. [Derrick died in March, 1769.]
 
 346 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 extempore one evening while he and I were walking together in 
 the dining-room at Eglintoune Castle, in 1760, and I have never 
 mentioned them to him since. 
 
 Johnson said once to me, " Sir, I honour Derrick for his 
 presence of mind. One night, when Floyd,^ another poor 
 authour, was wandering about the streets in the night, he found 
 Derrick fast asleep upon a bulk ; upon being suddenly waked, 
 Derrick suddenly started up, ' My dear Floyd, I am sorry to see 
 you in this destitute state ; will you go home with me to my 
 lodgings." 
 
 I again begged his advice as to my method of study at 
 Utrecht. " Come, (said he,) let us make a day of it. Let us go 
 down to Greenwich and dine, and talk of it there." The 
 following Saturday was fixed for this excursion. 
 
 As we walked along the Strand to-night, arm in arm, a woman 
 of the town accosted us, in the usual enticing manner. "No, 
 no, my girl, (said Johnson,) it won't do." He, however, did 
 not treat her with harshness ; and we talked of the wretched 
 life of such women, and agreed, that much more misery than 
 happiness, upon the whole, is produced by illicit commerce 
 between the sexes. 
 
 On Saturday, July 30, Dr. Johnson and I took a sculler at 
 the Temple-stairs, and set out for Greenwich. I asked him if 
 he really thought a knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages 
 an essential requisite to a good education. JOHNSON. "Most 
 certainly. Sir ; for those who know them have a very great 
 advantage over those who do not. Nay, Sir, it is wonderful 
 what a difference learning makes upon people even in the 
 common intercourse of life, which does not appear to be much 
 connected with it." " And yet, (said I,) people go through the 
 world very well, and carry on the business of life to good 
 advantage, without learning." JOHNSON. " Why, Sir, that may 
 be true in cases where learning cannot possibly be of any use ; 
 for instance, this boy rows us as well without learning, as if he 
 could sing the song of Orpheus to the Argonauts, who were the 
 first sailors." He then called to the boy, " What would you give, 
 
 ^ Thomas Floyd published, in 1760, Biblioiheca Biographica ; a Synopsis 
 of Universal Biograp/iy, in three volumes, 8\o.
 
 Age 54.] IN A BOA T TO GREENWICH. ZM 
 
 my lad, to know about the Argonauts ?" " Sir, (said the boy,) 
 I would give what I have." Johnson was much pleased with his 
 answer, and we gave him a double fare. Dr. Johnson then 
 turning to me, " Sir, (said he,) a desire of knowledge is the 
 natural feeling of mankind ; and every human being whose 
 mind is not debauched, will be willing to give all that he has 
 to get knowledge." 
 
 We landed at the Old Swan, and walked to Billingsgate, where 
 we took oars, and moved smoothly along the silver Thames. It 
 was a very fine day. We were entertained with the immense 
 number and variety of ships that were lying at anchor, and 
 with the beautiful country on each side of the river, 
 
 I talked of preaching, and of the great success which those 
 called methodists^ have. JOHNSON. " Sir, it is owing to their 
 expressing themselves in a plain and familiar manner, which is 
 the only way to do good to the common people, and which 
 
 1 All who are acquainted with the history of rehgion, (the most important, 
 surely, that concerns the human mind,) know that the appellation oi Methodists 
 was first given to a society of students in the University of Oxford, who about 
 the year 1730, were distinguished by an earnest and methodical attention to 
 devout exercises. This disposition of mind is not a novelty, or peculiar to 
 any sect, but has been and still may be found, in many Christians of ever>' 
 denomination. Johnson himself was, in a dignified manner, a Methodist. 
 In his Rambler, No. no, he mentions with respect "the whole discipline of 
 regulated piety ; " and in his " Prayers and Meditations," many instances 
 occur of his anxious examination into his spiritual state. That this religious 
 earnestness, and in particular an observation of the influence of the Holy 
 Spirit, has sometimes degenerated into folly, and sometimes been counter- 
 feited for base purposes, cannot be denied. Cut it is not, therefore, fair to 
 decry it when genuine. The principal argument in reason and good sense 
 against methodism is, that it tends to debase human nature, and prevent the 
 generous exertions of goodness, by an unworthy supposition that GOD will 
 pay no regard to them; although it is positively said in the Scriptures, that 
 He " will reward every man according to his works." But I am happy to 
 have it in my power to do justice to those whom it is the fashion to ridicule, 
 without any knowledge of their tenets ; and this I can do by quoting a passage 
 from one of their best apologists, Mr. Milner, who thus expresses their doctrine 
 upon this subject: "Justified by faith, renewed in his faculties, and con- 
 strained by the love of Christ, the believer moves in the sphere of love and 
 gratitude, and all his duties '^ow more or less from this principle. And though 
 they a?-e acciiinitlatins; for him in Jicavcn a treasure of bliss proportioned to 
 Ins faithfulness and activity, and it is by no means iticonsisteiit with his 
 principles to feel t lie force of this consideration., yet love itself sweetens every 
 duty to his mind ; and he thinks there is no absurdity in his feeling the love 
 of God as the grand commanding principle of his life." — Essays on several 
 religious Subjects, &^c., byfoscph Milner, A.M., Master of the Grammar School 
 of Kingston-icpon-Hull, 1789, p. it.
 
 34S LOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 clergymen of genius and learning ought to do from a principle 
 of duty, when it is suited to their congregations ; a practice, for 
 which they will be praised by men of sense. To insist against 
 drunkenness as a crime, because it debases reason, the noblest 
 faculty of man, would be of no service to the common people : 
 but to tell them that they may die in a fit of drunkenness, and 
 shew them how dreadful that would be, cannot fail to make a 
 deep impression. Sir, when your Scotch clergy give up their 
 homely manner, religion will soon decay in that country." Let 
 this observation, as Johnson meant it, be ever remembered. 
 
 1 was much pleased to find myself with Johnson at Green- 
 wich, which he celebrates in his " London " as a favourite scene. 
 I had the poem in my pocket, and read the lines aloud with 
 enthusiasm : 
 
 " On Thames's banks in silent thought we stood, 
 Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood : 
 Pleas'd with the seat which gave Eliza birth, 
 We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth." 
 
 He remarked that the structure of Greenwich hospital was 
 too magnificent for a place of charity, and that its parts were 
 too much detached, to make one great whole. 
 
 Buchanan, he said, was a very fine poet ; and, observed that 
 he was the first who complimented a lady, by ascribing to her 
 the different perfections of the heathen goddesses ; ^ but that 
 Johnstone^ improved upon this, by making his lady, at the 
 same time, free from their defects. 
 
 He dwelt upon Buchanan's elegant verses to Mary, Queen of 
 Scots, Nyinpha Calcdonics, &c., and spoke with enthusiasm of 
 the beauty of Latin verse. "All the modern languages (said 
 he) cannot furnish so melodious a line as 
 
 ' Fonnosatn resonare doces Amarillida silvas.' " ^ 
 
 ^ [Epigram. Lib. II. "In Elizabeth. Anglias Reg." — I suspect that the 
 authour's memory here deceived him, and that Johnson said, "the first 
 modern poet ; " for there is a well-known Epigram in the Anthologia 
 containing this kind of eulogy. — Malone.] 
 
 '^ [Arthur Johnstone, born near Aberdeen in 1587, an elegant Latin poet. 
 His principal works are a volume of epigrams (in which is to be found that 
 to which Dr. Johnson alludes) and a Latin paraphrase of the Psalms. He 
 died at Oxford in 1641. — Croker.] 
 
 2 [" And the wood rings with Amarillis' name." — Virg. Eel. i. 5.]
 
 Age 54-] HOMELY PREACHING—GEORGE BUCHANAN. 349 
 
 Afterwards he entered upon the business of the day, whicli 
 was to give me his advice as to a course of study. And here I 
 am to mention with much regret, that my record of what he 
 said is miserably scanty. I recollect with admiration an animat- 
 ing blaze of eloquence, which roused ever>' intellectual power 
 in me to the highest pitch, but must have dazzled me so much, 
 that my memory could not preserve the substance of his dis- 
 course ; for the note which I find of it is no more than this : — 
 " He ran over the grand scale of human knowledge ; advised me 
 to select some particular branch to excel in, but to acquire a 
 little of every kind." The defect of my minutes will be fully 
 supplied by a long letter upon the subject, which he favoured 
 me with, after I had been some time at Utrecht, and which my 
 readers will have the pleasure to peruse in its proper place. 
 
 We walked, in the evening, in Greenwich Park. He asked 
 me, I suppose, by way of trying my disposition, " Is not this 
 very fine.''" Having no exquisite relish of the beauties of 
 Nature, and being more delighted with " the busy hum of men," 
 I answered, " Yes, Sir ; but not equal to Fleet-street." JOHNSON. 
 " You are right, Sir." 
 
 I am aware that many of my readers may censure my want 
 of taste. Let me, however, shelter myself under the authority of 
 a very fashionable Baronet ^ in the brilliant world, who, on his 
 attention being called to the fragrance of a May evening in the 
 country, observed, " This may be very well ; but for my part, I 
 prefer the smell of a flambeau at the play-house." 
 
 We staid so long at Greenwich, that our sail up the river, in 
 our return to I-ondon, was by no means so pleasant as in the 
 morning ; for the night air was so cold that it made me shiver. 
 I was the more sensible of it from having sat up all the night 
 before recollecting and writing in my Journal what I thought 
 
 ^ My friend Sir Michael Le Fleming, of Rydal, in Westmoreland. This 
 gentleman, with all his experience of sprightly and elegant life, inherits, with 
 the beautiful family domain, no inconsiderable share of that love of literature, 
 which distinguished his venerable grandfather, the Bishop of Carlisle. He 
 one day observed to me, of Dr. Johnson, in a felicity of phrase, " There is a 
 blunt dignity about him on every occasion." 
 
 [Sir Michael Le Fleming died of an apoplectick fit, while conversing at 
 the Admiralty with Lord Howick, (now the Earl Grey,) May 19, 1S06. — 
 Malone.]
 
 350 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 worthy of preservation ; an exertion which, during the first 
 part of my acquaintance with Johnson, I frequently made. I 
 remember having sat uj) four nights in one week, without being 
 much incommoded in the day-time. 
 
 Johnson, whose robust frame was not in the least aftected by 
 the cold, scolded me, as if my shivering had been a paltry 
 effeminacy, saying, "Why do you shiver?" Sir William Scott, 
 of the Commons, told me, that when he complained of a headach 
 in the post-chaise, as they were travelling together to Scotland, 
 Johnson treated him in the same manner : " At your age. Sir, 
 I had no headach." It is not easy to make allowance for sen- 
 sations in others, which we ourselves have not at the time. We 
 must all have experienced how very differently we are affected 
 by the complaints of our neighbours, when we are well, and when 
 we are ill. In full health, we can scarcely believe that they suffer 
 much ; so faint is the image of pain upon our imagination : 
 when softened by sickness, we readily sympathize with the 
 sufferings of others. 
 
 We concluded the day at the Turk's Head coffee-house very 
 socially. He was pleased to listen to a particular account which 
 I gave him of my family, and of its hereditary estate, as to the 
 extent and population of which he asked questions, and made 
 calculations ; recommending, at the same time, a liberal kindness 
 to the tenantry, as people over whom the proprietor was placed 
 by Providence. He took delight in hearing my description of 
 the romantick seat of my ancestors. " I must be there. Sir, (said 
 he,) and we will live in the old castle ; and if there is not a room 
 in it remaining, we will build one." I was highly flattered, but 
 could scarcely indulge a hope that Auchinleck would indeed 
 be honoured by his presence, and celebrated by a description, 
 as it afterwards was, in his " Journey to the Western Islands." 
 
 After we had again talked of my setting out for Holland, he 
 said, " I must see thee out of England ; I will accompany you to 
 Harwich." I could not find words to express what I felt upon 
 this unexpected and very great mark of his affectionate regard. 
 
 Next day, Sunday, July 31, I told him I had been that 
 morning at a meeting of the people called Quakers, where I had 
 heard a woman preach. Johnson. " Sir, a woman's preaching
 
 AGE 54-] I'O TEA WITH MISS WILLIAMS. -351 
 
 is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not done well ; but 
 you are surprised to find it done at all." 
 
 On Tuesday, August 2, (the day of my departure from 
 London having been fixed for the 5th,) Dr. Johnson did me the 
 honour to pass a part of the morning with me at my chambers. 
 He said, that "he always felt an inclination to do nothing.' I 
 observed, that it was strange to think that the most indolent 
 man in Britain had written the most laborious work, THE 
 English Dictionary. 
 
 I mentioned an imprudent publication by a certain friend of 
 his, at an early period of life, and asked him if he thought it 
 would hurt him. JOHNSON. "No, Sir; not much. It may, 
 perhaps, be mentioned at an election." ^ 
 
 I had now made good my title to be a privileged man, and 
 was carried by him in the evening to drink tea with Miss 
 Williams, whom, though under the misfortune of having lost 
 her sight, I found to be agreeable in conversation ; for she had a 
 variety of literature, and expressed herself well ; but her peculiar 
 value was the intimacy in which she had long lived with Johnson, 
 by which she was well acquainted with his habits, and knew how 
 to lead him on to talk. 
 
 After tea he carried me to what he called his walk^ which was 
 a long narrow paved court in the neighbourhood,- overshadowed 
 by some trees. There we sauntered a considerable time ; and I 
 complained to him that my love of London and of his company 
 was such, that I shrunk almost from the thought of going away 
 
 ^ [This probably alludes to Mr. Burke's Viiidication of Natural Society, tx. 
 work published in 1756, in a happy imitation of Lord Bolingbroke's style, and 
 in an ironical adoption of his principles : the whole was so well done, that it 
 at first passed as a genuine work of Lord Bolingbroke's, and subsequently as 
 a serious and (as in style and imagery it certainly is) splendid exposition of 
 the principles of one of his disciples. Lord Chesterfield and Bishop 
 Warburton are stated to have been so deceived ; and it would seem, from the 
 passage in the text, that Johnson and Boswell were in the same error. In 
 1765, Mr. Burke reprinted this piece, with a preface, in which he throws off 
 altogether the mask of irony. Mr. Boswell calls him a friend of Johnson's, 
 for he himself had not yet met Mr. Burke. — Croker.] 
 
 - [This was probably the court running off from the eastern corner 
 of Gough-square, towards Shoe-lane. There are still two trees to be 
 seen in the line, and there were probably many more at the time Boswell 
 speaks of]
 
 352 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 even to travel, which is generally so nnuch desired by young 
 men. He roused me by manly and spirited conversation. He 
 advised me, when settled in any place abroad, to study with an 
 eagerness after knowledge, and to apply to Greek an hour every 
 day ; and when I was moving about, to read diligently the great 
 book of mankind. 
 
 On Wednesday, August 3, we had our last social evening at 
 the Turk's Head coffee-house, before my setting out for foreign 
 parts. I had the misfortune, before we parted, to irritate him 
 unintentionally. I mentioned to him how common it was in the 
 world to tell absurd stories of him, and to ascribe to him very 
 strange sayings, JOHNSON. " What do they make me say, 
 Sir.'"' BOSWELL. "Why, Sir, as an instance very strange 
 indeed, (laughing heartily as I spoke,) David Hume told me, you 
 said that you would stand before a battery of cannon to restore 
 the Convocation to its full powers." Little did I apprehend 
 that he had actually said this : but I was soon convinced of my 
 errour ; for, with a determined look, he thundered out, "And 
 would I not. Sir } Shall the Presbyterian Kirk of Scotland 
 have its General Assembly, and the Church of England be 
 denied its Convocation ? " He was walking up and down the 
 room, while I told him the anecdote ; but when he uttered this 
 explosion of high-church zeal he had come close to my chair, 
 and his eyes flashed with indignation, I bowed to the storm, 
 and diverted the force of it, by leading hini to expatiate on the 
 influence which religion derived from maintaining the church 
 with great external respectability. 
 
 I must not omi. to mention that he this year wrote "The Life 
 of Ascham,"i-^ and the Dedication to the Earl of Shaftesbury,-f- 
 prefixed to the edition of that writer's English works, published 
 by Mr. Bennct.^ 
 
 ^ Qohnson was, in fact, the editor of this work, as appears from a letter of 
 Mr. T. Davies to the Rev. Edm. Bettesworth : — " Reverend Sir, — I take the 
 liberty to send you Roger Ascham's works in English. Though Air. Bennet's 
 name is in the title, the editor was in reality Mr. Johnson, the author of the 
 Rambler, who wrote the life of the author, and added several notes. Mr. 
 Johnson gave it to Mr. Bennet, for his advantage," &o. I have not discovered 
 why Johnson took this interest in Mr. Bennet. — Croker.] 
 
 - [This edition was published by subscription, and Dr. Johnson wrote the 
 
 I
 
 Ace 54] CONFOCA TION—JO URNE V TO HARWICH. 353 
 
 On Friday, August 5, we set out early in the morning in the 
 Harwich stage-coach. A fat elderly gentlewoman, and a young 
 Dutchman, seemed the most inclined among us to conversation. 
 At the inn where we dined, the gentlewoman said that she had 
 done her best to educate her children ; and particularly, that 
 she had never suffered them to be a moment idle. Johnson. 
 " I wish, Madam, you would educate me too ; for I have been 
 an idle fellow all my life." " I am sure, Sir, (said she,) you have 
 not been idle." JOHNSON. " Nay, Madam, it is very true : 
 and that gentleman there, (pointing to me,) has been idle. He 
 was idle at Edinburgh. His father sent him to Glasgow, where 
 he continued to be idle. He then came to London, where he has 
 been very idle ; and now he is going to Utrecht, where he will 
 be as idle as ever." I asked him privately how he could expose 
 me so. Johnson. " Poh poh ! (said he) they knew nothing 
 about you, and will think of it no more." 
 
 In the afternoon the gentlewoman talked violently against the 
 Roman Catholicks, and of the horrours of the Inquisition. To 
 the utter astonishment of all the passengers but myself, who 
 knew that he could talk upon any side of a question, he defended 
 the Inquisition, and maintained, that " false doctrine should be 
 checked on its first appearance ; that the civil power should 
 unite with the church in punishing those who dare to attack the 
 
 Proposals^ which were issued by Messrs. Dodsley, and John Newbery, in Feb. 
 1758. The following passage carries irresistible internal evidence : 
 
 " The first degree of literary reputation is certainly due to him who adorns 
 or improves his country by original writings : but some degree, if not of fame, 
 at least of benevolence, may be claimed by such as carry on the work of 
 learning in humbler stations, by preserving or retrieving books which time 
 has obscured, or over-sight neglected. 
 
 "To this inferior degree of praise I hope to be entitled by the edition which 
 I now offer to the public of the English works of Mr. Ascham, a man in his 
 own time of high eminence, admitted to the familiarity of the great, and the 
 correspondence of the learned, and advanced by his merit to the honour of 
 instructing that Queen, at whose name every Englishman exults. That the 
 productions of such a writer should fall into oblivion would be somewhat 
 strange, if every nation did not afford instances of the like neglect. There is 
 a time when it is necessary to look back, and inquire what we have left 
 behind in the progress of knowledge. On this design many English criticks 
 have been lately employed, and some of our ancient writers have been 
 diligently illustrated. I hope the same candour which has favoured their 
 endeavours, will encourage mine : for none of thein have endeavoured to 
 retrieve an authour of more learning or greater elegance." — Chalmers.] 
 
 vol. I. A A
 
 354 BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 established religion, and that such only were punished by the 
 Inquisition." 
 
 He had in his pocket " Poinponius Mela de Situ Orbis" in 
 which he read occasionally, and seemed very intent upon ancient 
 geography. 
 
 Though by no means niggardly, his attention to what was 
 generally right was so minute, that having observed at one of 
 the stages that I ostentatiously gave a shilling to the coachman, 
 when the custom was for each passenger to give only six-pence, 
 he took me aside and scolded me, saying that what I had done 
 would make the coachman dissatisfied with all the rest of the 
 passengers who gave him no more than his due. This was a 
 just reprimand ; for in whatever way a man may indulge his 
 generosity or his vanity in spending his money, for the sake of 
 others he ought not to raise the price of any articles for which 
 there is a constant demand. 
 
 He talked of Mr. Blacklock's^ poetry, so far as it was 
 descriptive of visible objects : and observed that "as its authour 
 had the misfortune to be blind, we may be absolutely sure that 
 such passages are combinations of what he has remembered of 
 the works of other writers who could see. That foolish fellow 
 Spence, has laboured to explain philosophically how Blacklock 
 may have done, by means of his own faculties, what it is im- 
 possible he should do. The solution, as I have given it, is plain. 
 Suppose, I know a man to be so lame that he is absolutely 
 incapable to move himself, and I find him in a different room 
 from that in which I left him ; shall I puzzle myself with idle 
 conjectures that, perhaps, his nerves have by some unknown 
 change all at once become effective ? No, Sir, it is clear how he 
 got into a different room ; he was carried." 
 
 ^ [Dr. Thomas Blacklock was the son of a Scotch bricklayer. He was 
 blinded by smallpox in his infancy, and developed more than usual powers 
 through being much read to by friends. When he was nineteen his father was 
 crushed by the fall of a kiln. Dr. Stevenson of Edinburgh then befriended 
 the blind youth, gave him access to higher culture, enabled him to become a 
 scholar and a poet, to take an office in the University as means of life, then 
 to take orders and become D.D. It was Blacklock who helped Burns with the 
 first words of warm encouragement and found him friends at Edinburgh 
 m 1787.]
 
 Age 54-] BLACKLOCK— JOHNSON AT FEEDING-TIME. 355 
 
 Having stopped a night at Colchester, Johnson talked of that 
 town with veneration, for having stood a siege for Charles the 
 First. The Dutchman alone now remained with us. He spoke 
 English tolerably well ; and thinking to recommend himself to 
 us by expatiating on the superiority of the criminal jurisprudence 
 of this country over that of Holland, he inveighed against the 
 barbarity of putting an accused person to the torture, in order to 
 force a confession. But Johnson was as ready for this as for the 
 Inquisition. "Why, Sir, you do not, I find, understand the law 
 of your own country. To torture in Holland is considered as a 
 favour to an accused person ; for no man is put to the torture 
 there, unless there is as much evidence against him as would 
 amount to conviction in England. An accused person, among 
 you, therefore, has one chance more to escape punishment, than 
 those who are tried among us." 
 
 At supper this night he talked of good eating with uncommon 
 satisfaction. " Some people (said he) have a foolish way of not 
 minding, or pretending not to mind, what they eat. For my 
 part, I mind my belly very studiously, and very carefully ; for I 
 look upon it, that he who does not mind his belly will hardly 
 mind any thing else." He now appeared to me Jean Bull 
 philosophe, and he was for the moment, not only serious, but 
 vehement. Yet I have heard him, upon other occasions, talk 
 with great contempt of people who were anxious to gratify their 
 palates ; and the 206th number of his Rambler is a masterly 
 essay against gulosity. His practice, indeed, I must ac- 
 knowledge, may be considered as casting the balance of his 
 different opinions upon this subject ; for I never knew any man 
 who relished good eating more than he did. When at table, he 
 was totally absorbed in the business of the moment ; his looks 
 seemed riveted to his plate ; nor would he, unless when in very 
 high company, say one word, or even pay the least attention to 
 what was said by others, till he had satisfied his appetite ; which 
 was so fierce, and indulged with such intenseness, that while in 
 the act of eating, the veins of his forehead swelled, and generally 
 a strong perspiration was visible. To those whose sensations 
 were delicate, this could not but be disgusting ; and it was 
 doubtless not very suitable to the character of a philosopher, 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 BOS WELL'S LLFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 who should be distinguished by self-command. But it must be 
 owned, that Johnson, though he could be rigidly abstemious, was 
 not a temperate man either in eating or drinking. He could 
 refrain, but he could not use moderately. He told me that he 
 had fasted two days without inconvenience, and that he had 
 never been hungry but once. They who beheld with wonder 
 how much he eat upon all occasions, when his dinner was to his 
 taste, could not easily conceive what he must have meant by 
 hunger ; and not only was he remarkable for the extraordinary 
 quantity which he eat, but he was, or affected to be, a man of 
 very nice discernment in the science of cookery. He used to 
 descant critically on the dishes which had been at table where 
 he had dined or supped, and to recollect very minutely what he 
 had liked. I remember when he was in Scotland, his praising 
 " Gordon s palates " (a dish of palates at the Honourable Alexander 
 Gordon's) with a warmth of expression which might have done 
 honour to more important subjects. " As for Maclaurin's imita- 
 tion of a made dish, it was a wretched attempt." He about the 
 same time was so much displeased with the performances of a 
 nobleman's French cook, that he exclaimed with vehemence, 
 " I'd throw such a rascal into the river ;" and he then proceeded 
 to alarm a lady at whose house he was to sup, by the following 
 manifesto of his skill : " I, Madam, who live at a variety of good 
 tables, am a much better judge of cookery, than any person who 
 has a very tolerable cook, but lives much at home ; for his palate 
 is gradually adapted to the taste of his cook : whereas, Madam, 
 in trying by a wider range, I can more exquisitely judge." 
 When invited to dine, even with an intimate friend, he was not 
 pleased if something better than a plain dinner was not prepared 
 for him. I have heard him say on such an occasion, " This was 
 a good dinner enough to be sure : but it was not a dinner to ask 
 a man to." On the other hand, he was wont to express, with 
 great glee, his satisfaction when he had been entertained quite 
 to his mind. One day when he had dined with his neighbour 
 and landlord, in Bolt-court, Mr. Allen, the printer/ whose old 
 housekeeper had studied his taste in every thing, he pronounced 
 
 ^ [Edward Allen was a very excellent printer in Bolt Court. His office 
 imited to Johnson's dwelling. He died in 1780. — NiCHOLS.] 
 
 1
 
 Age 54.] HIS NOTIONS ABOUT EATING. 357 
 
 this eulogy : " Sir, we could not have had a better dinner, had 
 there been a Synod of Cooks." ^ 
 
 While we were left by ouselves, after the Dutchman had gone 
 to bed, Dr. Johhson talked of that studied behaviour which 
 many have recommended and practised. He disapproved of 
 it: and said, "I never considered whether I should be a grave 
 man, or a merry man, but just let inclination, for the time, have 
 its course." 
 
 He flattered me with some hopes that he would, in the course 
 of the following summer, come over to Holland, and accompany 
 me in a tour through the Netherlands, 
 
 I teased him with fanciful apprehensions of unhappiness. A 
 moth having fluttered round the candle, and burnt itself, he laid 
 hold of this little incident to admonish me ; saying, with a sly 
 look, and in a solemn but a quiet tone, " That creature was its 
 own tormenter, and I believe its name was BOSWELL." 
 
 ^ [Johnson's notions about eating, says Mrs. Piozzi, however, were nothing 
 less than dehcate : a leg of pork boiled till it dropped from the bone, a veal 
 pie with plums and sugar, or the outside cut of a salt buttock of beef, were 
 his favourite dainties : with regard to drink, his liking was for the strongest, 
 as it was not the flavour, but the effect he sought for, and professed to desire : 
 and when I first knew him, he used to pour capillaire into his port wine. For 
 the last twelve years, howe^'er, he left off all fermented liquors. To make 
 himself some amends, indeed, he took his chocolate liberally, pouring in large 
 quantities of cream, or even melted butter ; and was so fond of fruit, that 
 though he would eat seven or eight large peaches of a morning before breakfast 
 began, and treated them with proportionate attention after dinner again, yet 
 1 have heard him protest, that lie never had quite as much as he wished of 
 wall-fruit, except once in his life, and that was when we w-ere all together at 
 Ombersley, the seat of my Lord Sandys : and yet, when his Irish friend 
 Grierson, \seQ post, sub 1770,] hearing him enumerate the qualities necessary 
 to the formation of a poet, began a comical parody upon his ornamented 
 harangue in praise of a cook, concluding with this observation, that he who 
 dressed a good dinner was a more excehent and a more useful member of 
 society than he who wrote a good poem. " And in this opinion," said Mr. 
 Johnson, in reply, " all the dogs in the town will join you." — He loved his 
 dinner exceedingly, and has often said in my hearing, perhaps for my edifi- 
 cation, '' that wherever the dinner is ill got up, there is poverty, or there is 
 avarice, or there is stupidity ; in short, the family is somehow grossly wrong : 
 for," continued he, " a man seldom thinks with more earnestness of any thing 
 than he does of his dinner : and if he cannot get that well dressed, he should 
 be suspected of inaccuracy in other things." One day, when he was speaking 
 upon the subject, I asked him, if he ever huffed his wife about his dinner .? 
 " So often," replied he, " that at last she called to me, when about to say 
 grace, and said, ' Nay, hold, Mr. Johnson, and do not make a farce of thank- 
 ing God for a dinner which, in a few minutes, you will pronounce not eatable ' " 
 — Croker.]
 
 358 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 Next day we got to Harwich, to dinner ; and my passage in 
 the packet-boat to Helvoetsluys being secured, and my baggage 
 put on board, we dined at our inn by ourselves. I happened to 
 say it would be terrible if he should not find a speedy oppor- 
 tunity of returning to London, and be confined in so dull a place. 
 Johnson. " Don't, Sir, accustom yourself to use big words for 
 little matters. It would not be terrible, though I zvere to be 
 detained some time here." The practice of using words of 
 disproportionate magnitude, is, no doubt, too frequent every- 
 where ; but, I think, most remarkable among the French, of 
 which, all who have travelled in France, must have been struck 
 with innumerable instances. 
 
 We went and looked at the church, and having gone into it, 
 and walked up to the altar, Johnson, whose piety was constant 
 and fervent, sent me to my knees, saying, " Now that you are 
 going to leave your native country, recommend yourself to the 
 protection of your CREATOR and REDEEMER." 
 
 After we came out of the church, we stood talking for some 
 time together of Bishop Berkeley's ingenious sophistry to prove 
 the non-existence of matter, and that every thing in the universe 
 is merely ideal. I observed, that though we are satisfied his 
 doctrine is not true, it is impossible to refute it. I never shall 
 forget the alacrity with which Johnson answered, striking his 
 foot with mighty force against a large stone, till he rebounded 
 from it, — " I refute it tJius!' ^ This was a stout exemplification 
 of the first truths of Pi:re Boiifficr, or the original principles of 
 Reid and of Beattie : without admitting which, we can no more 
 argue in metaphysicks, than we can argue in mathematicks 
 without axioms. To me it is not conceivable how Berkeley can 
 be answered by pure reasoning ; but I know that the nice and 
 difficult task was to have been undertaken by one of the most 
 luminous minds- of the present age, had not politicks "turned 
 
 ^ [Dr. Johnson seems to have been imperfectly acquainted with Berkeley's 
 doctrine : as his experiment only proves that we have the sensation of solidity, 
 which Berkeley did not deny. — He admitted that we had sensations or ideas 
 that are usually called sensible qualities, one of which is solidity : he only 
 denied the existence of 7iiattcr, i.e. an inert senseless substance, in which 
 they are supposed to subsist. — Johnson's exemplification concurs with the 
 vul'jar notion, that solidity is matter. — KEARNEY.] 
 
 2 [Mr. Burke. — Croker.]
 
 Age 54-] BOSWELL SAILS FROM HARWICH. 359 
 
 him from calm philosophy aside." What an admirable display 
 of subtilty, united with brilliance, might his contending with 
 Berkeley have afforded us ! How must we, when we reflect on 
 the loss of such an intellectual feast, regret that he should be 
 characterised as the man, 
 
 " Who born for the universe, narrow' d his mind, 
 And to party gave up what was meant for mankind ! " 
 
 My revered friend walked down with me to the beach, where 
 we embraced and parted with tenderness, and engaged to 
 correspond by letters. I said, " I hope. Sir, you will not forget 
 me in my absence." JOHNSON. " Nay, Sir, it is more likely 
 you should forget me, than that I should forget )'ou." As the 
 vessel put out to sea, I kept my eyes upon him for a consider- 
 able time, while he remained rolling his majestic frame in his 
 usual manner ; and at last I perceived him walk back into the 
 town, and he disappeared. 
 
 Utrecht seeming at first very dull to me, after the animated 
 scenes of London, my spirits were grievously affected ; and I 
 wrote to Johnson a plaintive and desponding letter, to which he 
 paid no regard. Afterwards, when I had acquired a firmer tone 
 of mind, I wrote him a second letter, expressing much anxiety 
 to hear from him. At length I received the following epistle, 
 which was of important service to me, and, I trust, will be so 
 to many others, 
 
 " A MR. MR. BOSWELL, A LA COUR DE L'EMPEREUR, UTRECHT. 
 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 "You are not to think yourself forgotten, or criminally 
 neglected, that you have had yet no letter from me. I love to see 
 my friends, to hear from them, to talk to them, and to talk of 
 them ; but it is not without a considerable effort of resolution 
 that I prevail upon myself to write. I would not, however, 
 gratify my own indolence by the omission of any important 
 duty, or any office of real kindness. 
 
 " To tell you that I am or am not well, that I have or have 
 not been in the country, that I drank your health in the room in 
 which we last sat together, and that your acquaintance continue 
 to speak of you with their former kindness, topicks with which
 
 36o BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1763. 
 
 those letters are commonly filled which are written only for the 
 sake of writing, I seldom shall think worth communicating ; 
 but if I can have it in my power to calm any harassing disquiet, 
 to excite any virtuous desire, to rectify any important opinion, 
 or fortify any generous resolution, you need not doubt but I 
 shall at least wish to prefer the pleasure of gratifying a friend 
 much less esteemed than yourself, before the gloomy calm of idle 
 vacancy. Whether I shall easily arrive at an exact punctuality 
 of correspondence, I cannot tell. I shall, at present, expect that 
 you will receive this in return for two which I have had from 
 you. The first, indeed, gave me an account so hopeless of 
 the state of your mind, that it hardly admitted or deserved 
 an answer ; by the second I was much better pleased ; and 
 the pleasure will still be increased by such a narrative of 
 the progress of your studies, as may evince the continuance 
 of an equal and rational application of your mind to some 
 useful enquiry. 
 
 " You will, perhaps, wish to ask, what study I would re- 
 commend. I shall not speak of theology, because it ought not 
 to be considered as a question whether you shall endeavour to 
 know the will of GoD. 
 
 " I shall, therefore, consider only such studies as we are at 
 liberty to pursue or to neglect ; and of these I know not how 
 you will make a better choice, than by studying the civil law, as 
 your father advises, and the ancient languages, as you had 
 determined for yourself; at least resolve, while you remain in 
 any settled residence, to spend a certain number of hours every 
 day amongst your books. The dissipation of thought of which 
 you complain, is nothing more than the vacillation of a mind 
 suspended between different motives, and changing its direction 
 as any motive gains or loses strength. If you can but kindle 
 in your mind any strong desire, if you can but keep pre- 
 dominant any wish for some particular excellence or attainment, 
 the gusts of imagination will break away, without any effect 
 upon your conduct, and commonly without any traces left upon 
 the memory. 
 
 " There lurks, perhaps, in every human heart a desire of 
 distinction, which inclines every man first to hope, and then 
 to believe, that nature has given him something peculiar to 
 himself. This vanity makes one mind nurse aversions and another 
 actuate desires, till they arise by art much above their original 
 state of power : and as affectation, in time improves to habit, 
 they at last tyrannise over him who at first encouraged them 
 only for show. Every desire is a viper in the bosom, who, 
 v.^hile he was chill, was harmless ; but when warmth gave him
 
 Age 54] LETTER TO BOSWELL AT UTRECHT. 361 
 
 strength, exerted it in poison. You know a gentleman, who, 
 when first he set his foot in the gay .world, as he prepared him- 
 self to whirl in the vortex of pleasure, imagined a total in- 
 difference and universal negligence to be the most agreeable 
 concomitants of youth, and the strongest indication of an airy 
 temper and a quick apprehension. Vacant to every object, and 
 sensible of every impulse, he thought that all appearance of 
 diligence would deduct something from the reputation of genius ; 
 and hoped that he should appear to attain, amidst all the ease 
 of carelessness, and all the tumults of diversion, that knowledge 
 and those accomplishments which m.ortals of the common fabrick 
 obtain only by mute abstraction and solitary drudgery. He 
 tried this scheme of life awhile, was made weary of it by his 
 sense and his virtue ; he then wished to return to his studies ; and 
 finding long habits of idleness and pleasure harder to be cured 
 than he expected, still willing to retain his claim to some 
 extraordinary prerogatives, resolved the common consequences 
 of irregularity into an unalterable decree of destiny, and con- 
 cluded that Nature had originally formed him incapable of 
 rational employment. 
 
 " Let all such fancies, illusive and destructive, be banished 
 henceforward from your thoughts for ever. Resolve, and keep 
 your resolution ; choose, and pursue your choice. If you spend 
 this day in study, you will find yourself still more able to stud)' 
 to-morrow; not that you are to expect that you shall at once 
 obtain a complete victory. Depravity is not very easily over- 
 come. Resolution will sometimes relax, and diligence will 
 sometimes be interrupted ; but let no accidental surprise or 
 deviation, whether short or long, dispose you to despondency. 
 Consider these failings as incident to all mankind. Begin again 
 where you left off, and endeavour to avoid the seducements that 
 prevailed over you before. 
 
 " This, my dear Boswell, is advice which, perhaps, has been 
 often given you, and given you without effect. But this advice, 
 if you will not take from others, you must take from your own 
 reflections, if you purpose to do the duties of the station to which 
 the bounty of Providence has called you. 
 
 " Let me have a long letter from you as soon as you can. I 
 hope you continue your Journal, and enrich it with many obser- 
 vations upon the country in which you reside. It will be a favour 
 if you can get me any books in the Frisick language, and can 
 enquire how the poor are maintained in the Seven Provinces. 
 " I am, dear Sn', your most affectionate servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "London, Dec. 8, 1763."
 
 362 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1764. 
 
 I am sorry to observe, that neither in my own minutes, 
 nor in my letters to Johnson which have been preserved by 
 him, can I find any information how the poor are maintained 
 in the Seven Provinces. But I shall extract from one of 
 my letters what I learnt concerning the other subject of his 
 curiosity. 
 
 " I have made all possible enquiry with respect to the Frisick 
 language, and find that it has been less cultivated than any 
 other of the northern dialects ; a certain proof of which is their 
 deficiency of books. Of the old Frisick, there are no remains, 
 except some ancient laws preserved by Schotanus in his ' Bcschry- 
 vinge van die HeerlykJieid van Fricsland ;' and his ' Historia 
 Frisica.' I have not yet been able to find these books. Profess- 
 or Trotz, who formerly was of the University of Vranyken in 
 Friesland, and is at present preparing an edition of all the 
 Frisick laws, gave me this information. Of the modern Frisick, 
 or what is spoken by the boors of this day, I have procured a 
 specimen. It is Gisbert Japix's 'i?;/;/^r/^;7>,' which is the only 
 book that they have. It is amazing that they have no trans- 
 lation of the Bible, no treatises of devotion, nor even any of the 
 ballads and story-books which are so agreeable to country 
 people. You shall have Japix by the first convenient Oppor- 
 tunity. I doubt not to pick up Schotanus. Mynheer Trotz has 
 promised me his assistance." 
 
 Early in 1764 Johnson paid a visit to the Langton family, at 
 their seat of Langton, in Lincolnshire, where he passed some 
 time, much to his satisfaction. His friend, Bennet Langton, it 
 will not be doubted, did every thing in his power to make the 
 place agreeable to so illustrious a guest ; and the elder Mr. 
 Langton and his lady, being fully capable of understanding his 
 value, were not wanting in attention. He, however, told me, 
 that old Mr. Langton, though a man of considerable learning, 
 had so little allowance to make for his occasional " laxity of 
 talk," that because, in the course of discussion, he sometimes 
 mentioned what might be said in favour of the peculiar tenets 
 of the Romish church, he went to his grave believing him to 
 be of that communion. 
 
 Johnson, during his stay at Langton, had the advantage of a 
 good library, and saw several gentlemen of the neigbourhood.
 
 Age 55-] IN LINCOLNSHIRE— THE LITERARY CLUB. 363 
 
 I have obtained from Mr. Langton the following particulars of 
 this period. 
 
 He was now fully convinced that he could not have been 
 satisfied with a country living ; for talking of a respectable 
 clergyman in Lincolnshire, he observed, " This man, Sir, fills up 
 the duties of his life well. I approve of him, but could not 
 imitate him." 
 
 To a lady who endeavoured to vindicate herself from blame 
 for neglecting social attention to worthy neighbours, by saying, 
 " I would go to them if it would do them any good ; " he said, 
 " What good. Madam, do you expect to have in your power to 
 do them .'' It is shewing them respect, and that is doing 
 them good." 
 
 So socially accommodating was he, that once, when Mr. 
 Langton and he were driving together in a coach, and Mr. 
 Langton complained of being sick, he insisted that they should 
 go out, and sit on the back of it in the open air, which they 
 did. And being sensible how strange the appearance must be, 
 observed, that a countryman whom they saw in a field would 
 probably be thinking, " If these two madmen should come 
 down, what would become of me .'* " 
 
 Soon after his return to London, which was in February, was 
 founded that Club which existed long without a name, but at 
 Mr. Garrick's funeral became distinguished by the title of THE 
 Literary Club. Sir Joshua Reynolds had the merit of being 
 the first proposer of it, to which Johnson acceded ; and the 
 original members were. Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Johnson, Mr. 
 Edmund Burke, Dr. Nugent, Mr. Beauclerk, Mr. Langton, Dr. 
 Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John Hawkins. They met at 
 the Turk's Head, in Gerrard-street, Soho, one evening in every 
 week, at seven, and generally continued their conversation till a 
 pretty late hour.^ This club has been gradually increased to 
 
 ^ It was Johnson's original intention, that the number of this club should 
 not exceed nine, but Mr. Dyer, a member of that in Ivy Lane before spoken 
 of, and A¥ho for some years had been abroad, made his appearance among 
 them, and was cordially received. The hours which Johnson spent in this 
 society seemed to be the happiest of his life. He would often applaud his 
 own sagacity in the selection of it, and was so constant at its meetings as 
 never to absent himself. It is true, he came late, but then he stayed late, for,
 
 364 BOSIVELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1764. 
 
 its present number, thirty-five. After about ten years, instead 
 of supping weekly, it was resolved to dine together once a fort- 
 night during the meeting of Parliament. Their original tavern 
 having been converted into a private house, they moved first to 
 Prince's, in Sackville-street, then to Le Telier's, in Dover-street, 
 and now meet at Parsloe's, St. James's-street. Between the 
 time of its formation, and the time at which this work is passing 
 through the press (June, 1792),! the following persons, now dead, 
 were members of it : Mr. Dunning (afterwards Lord Ashburton), 
 Mr. Samuel Dyer, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Shipley Bishop of St. Asaph, 
 Mr. Vesey, Mr. Thomas Warton, and Dr. Adam Smith. The 
 present members are, Mr. Burke, Mr. Langton, Lord Charle- 
 mont, Sir Robert Chambers, Dr. Percy Bishop of Dromore, 
 Dr. Barnard Bishop of Killaloe, Dr. Marlay Bishop of Clon- 
 fert, Mr. Fox, Dr. George Fordyce, Sir William Scott, Sir 
 Joseph Banks, Sir Charles Bunbury, Mr. Windham of Norfolk, 
 Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Gibbon, Sn- William Jones, Mr. Coleman, 
 Mr. Steevens, Dr. Burney, Dr. Joseph Warton, Mr. Malone, 
 Lord Ossory, Lord Spencer, Lord Lucan, Lord Palmerston, 
 Lord Eliot, Lord Macartney, Mr. Richard Burke, junior, Sir 
 
 as has been already said of him, he little regarded hours. Our evening 
 toast was the motto of Padre Paolo, " Esto perpetua." A lady,* distin- 
 guished by her beauty and taste for literature, invited us, two successive years, 
 to a dinner at her house. Curiosity was her motive, and possibly a desire of 
 intermingling with our conversation the charms of her own. She affected to 
 consider us as a set of literary men, and perhaps gave the first occasion for 
 distinguishing the society by the name of the " Literary Club," an appellation 
 which It never assumed to itself —At these meetings, Johnson, as indeed he 
 did everywhere, led the conversation, yet was lie far from arrogating to him- 
 self that superiority, which, some years before, he was disposed to contend 
 for. He had seen enough of the world to know, that respect was not to be 
 extorted, and began now to be satisfied with that degree of eminence to which 
 his writings had exalted him. This change in his behaviour was remarked 
 by those who were best acquainted with his character, and it rendered him 
 an easy and delightful companion. Our discourse was miscellaneous, but 
 chiefly literary. Politics alone were excluded.— //<;iT<y/[7>/^. " It was a supper- 
 meeting then," says Mrs. Piozzi, "on a Friday night, and I fancy Dr. Nugent 
 [Mrs. Burke's father, who was a Roman Catholic] ordered an omelet : and 
 Johnson felt very painful sensations at the sight of that dish soon after his 
 death, and cried, ' Ah, my poor dear friend, I shall never eat omelet with 
 thee again ! ' quite in an agony." — Croker.] 
 
 ^ [The second edition is here spoken of — Malone.] 
 
 * [Either Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Vesey, or Mrs. Ord.— Mr. Pennington (Miss 
 Carter's nephew) thought the latter.— Croker].
 
 Age 55-] THE LITERARY CLUB. 365 
 
 William Hamilton, Dr. Warren, Mr. Courtenay, Dr. Hinchliffe 
 Bishop of Peterborough, the Duke of Leeds, Dr. Douglas 
 Bishop of Salisbury, and the writer of this account.^ 
 
 Sir John Hawkins^ represents himself as a " secedcr" from 
 this society, and assigns as the reason of his " zvithdrawiug" 
 himself from it, that its late hours were inconsistent with his 
 domestick arrangements. In this he is not accurate : for the 
 fact was, that he one evening attacked Mr. Burke, in so rude a 
 manner, that all the company testified their displeasure ; and 
 at their next meeting his reception was such that he never 
 came again.^ 
 
 He is equally inaccurate with respect to Mr. Garrick, of whom 
 he says, " He trusted that the least intimation of a desire to come 
 
 ^ [The Literary Club has since been deprived by death of Dr. Hinchhfife 
 Bishop of Petei-borough, Mr. Gibbon, Sir William Jones, Mr. Richard Burke, 
 Mr. Colman, Mr. Boswell, (the authour of this work,) the Marquis of Bath, 
 Dr. Warren, Mr. Burke, the Rev. Dr. Farmer, the Duke of Leeds, the Earl 
 of Lucan, James Earl of Charlemont, Mr. Stevens, Dr. Warton, Mr. Langton, 
 Lord Palmerston, Dr. Fordyce, Dr. Marlay Bishop of Waterford, Sir William 
 Hamilton, Sir Robert Chambers, Lord Eliot, Lord Macartney, Dr. Barnard 
 Bishop of Limerick, Mr. Fox, Dr. Horsley Bishop of St. Asaph, Dr. Douglas 
 Bishop of Salisbury, and Dr. French Lawrence. Its latest and its irreparable 
 loss was that of the Right Hon. William Windham, the delight and admira- 
 tion of this society, and of every other with whom he ever associated. — Of 
 the persons above-mentioned some were chosen members of it, after the 
 preceding account was written. It has since that time acquired Sir Charles 
 Blagden, Major Rennell, the Hon. Frederick North, the Right Hon. George 
 Canning, Mr. Marsden, the Right Hon. J. H. Frere, the Right Hon. Thomas 
 Grenville, the Reverend Dr. Vincent Dean of Westminster, Mr. William 
 Lock, jun., Mr. George Ellis, Lord Minto, the Right Hon. Sir William Grant 
 Master of the Rolls, Sir George Staunton, Bart, Mr. Charles Wilkins, the 
 Right Hon. Sir William Drummond, Sir Henry Halford, M.D., Sir Henry 
 Englefield, Bart., Henry Lord Holland, John Earl of Aberdeen, Mr. Charles 
 Hatchett, Mr. Charles Vaughan, Mr. Humphry Davey, and the Rev. Dr. 
 Burney. — The Club, some years after Mr Boswell's death, removed (in 1799) 
 from. Parsloe's to the Thatched House, in' St. James's-street, where they still 
 continue to meet. 
 
 The total number of those who have been members of this Club, from its 
 foundation to the present time, (October, 18 10), is seventy-six, of whom 
 FIFTY-FIVE have been authours. Of the seventy-six members above-mentioned, 
 forty-three are dead ; thirty-three living. — Malone.] [Since the above note 
 was written, death has deprived the Club of Mr. Malone, Mr. George Ellis, 
 Dr. Burney, Dr. Vincent, &c. — Chalmers.] 
 
 - Life of Johnson, p. 425. 
 
 ^ From Sir Joshua Reynolds. [The Knight having refused to pay his 
 portion of the reckoning for supper, because he usually eat no supper at home, 
 Johnson observed " Sir John, Sir, is a very undubable man." — BuRNEY.]
 
 366 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1764. 
 
 among us would procure him a ready admission ; but in this he 
 was mistaken. Johnson consulted me upon it; and when I could 
 find no objection to receiving him, exclaimed, — ' He will disturb 
 us by his buffoonery ; ' — and afterwards so managed matters, 
 that he was never formally proposed, and, by consequence, never 
 admitted." ^ 
 
 In justice both to Mr. Garrick and Dr. Johnson, I think it 
 necessary to rectify this mis-statement. The truth is, that not 
 very long after the institution of our club, Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 was speaking of it to Garrick. " I like it much, (said he,) I 
 think I shall be of you." When Sir Joshua mentioned this to 
 Dr. Johnson, he was much displeased with the actor's conceit. 
 ''He 7/ be of lis, (said Johnson,) how does he know we \\\\\ permit 
 him .'' The first duke in England has no right to hold such 
 language." However, when Garrick was regularly proposed some 
 time aftewards, Johnson, though he had taken a momentary 
 offence at his arrogance, warmly and kindly supported him, and 
 he was accordingly elected," was a most agreeable member, and 
 continued to attend our meetings to the time of his death. 
 
 Mrs. Piozzi^ has also given a similar misrepresentation of 
 Johnson's treatment of Garrick in this particular, as if he had 
 used these contemptuous expressions : "If Garrick does apply, 
 I'll black-ball him. — Surely, one ought to sit in a society like 
 ours, 
 
 ' Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player.' " 
 
 I am happy to be enabled by such unquestionable authority 
 as that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, as well as from my own know- 
 ledge, to vindicate at once the heart of Johnson and the social 
 merit of Garrick. 
 
 In this year, except what he may have done in revising 
 Shakspeare, wc do not find that he laboured much in literature, 
 lie wrote a review of Grainger's "Sugar Cane," a poem, in the 
 London Chronicle. He told me, that Dr. Percy wrote the 
 greatest part of this review ; but, I imagine, he did not recollect 
 
 ^ Life of Johnson, p. 425. 
 
 '^ [Mr. Garrick was elected in March, 1773. — M alone] 
 
 3 Letters to and from Dr. Johnson, vol. ii. p. 278.
 
 Age 55- THE BATTLE WITH INDOLENCE. 367 
 
 it distinctly, for it appears to be mostly, if not altogether, his 
 own. He also wrote in the Critical Review, an account i" of 
 Goldsmith's excellent poem, " The Traveller." 
 
 The ease and independence to which he had at last attained 
 by royal munificence, increased his natural indolence. In his 
 "Meditations," he thus accuses himself: " GoOD FRIDAY, 
 April 20, 1764. I have made no reformation ; I have lived 
 totally useless, more sensual in thought, and more addicted to 
 wine and meat."^ And next morning he thus feelingly com- 
 plains: " My indolence, since my last reception of the sacrament, 
 has sunk into grosser sluggishness, and my dissipation spread 
 into wilder negligence. My thoughts have been clouded with 
 sensuality ; and except that from the beginning of this year I 
 have, in some measure, forborne excess of strong drink, my 
 appetites have predominated over my reason, A kind of strange 
 oblivion has overspread me, so that I know not what has become 
 of the last year ; and perceive that incidents and intelligence 
 pass over me without leaving any impression." He then solemnly 
 says, " ^^his is not the life to which heaven is promised;"^ and 
 he earnestly resolves an amendment. 
 
 It was his custom to observe certain days with a pious 
 abstraction : viz.. New-year's day, the day of his wife's death, 
 Good Friday, Easter-day, and his own birth-day. He this year 
 says, " I have now spent fifty-five years in resolving : having, 
 from the earliest time almost that I can remember, been forming 
 schemes of a better life. I have done nothing. The need of 
 doing, therefore, is pressing, since the time of doing is short. O 
 God, grant me to resolve aright, and to keep my resolutions, for 
 Jesus Christ's sake. Amen." ^ Such a tenderness of con- 
 science, such a fervent desire of improvement, will rarely be 
 found. It is, surely, not decent in those who are hardened in 
 indifference to spiritual improvement, to treat this pious anxiety 
 of Johnson with contempt. 
 
 About this time he was afflicted with a very severe return of 
 the hypochondriack disorder, which was ever lurking about him. 
 
 1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 53. 
 
 2 Ibid. p. 51. 
 
 3 Ibid. p. 584.
 
 o 
 
 68 BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1764. 
 
 He was so -ill, as, notwithstanding his remarkable love of 
 company, to be entirely averse to society, the most fatal symp- 
 tom of that malady. Dr. Adams told me, that, as an old friend 
 he was admitted to visit him, and that he found him in a deplor- 
 able state, sighing, groaning, talking to himself, and restlessly 
 walking from room to room. He then used this emphatical 
 expression of the misery which he felt : " I would consent to 
 have a limb amputated to recover my spirits." 
 
 Talking to himself was, indeed, one of his singularities ever 
 since I knew him. I was certain that he was frequently uttering 
 pious ejaculations ; for fragments of the Lord's Prayer have 
 been distinctly overheard. His friend, Mr. Thomas Davies, of 
 whom Churchill says, 
 
 " That Davies has a very pretty wife, — " 
 
 when Dr. Johnson muttered — " lead us not into temptation," 
 used, with waggish and gallant humour, to whisper Mrs. Davies, 
 " You, my dear, are the cause of this." 
 
 He had another particularity, of which none of his friends ever 
 ventured to ask an explanation. It appeared to me some super- 
 stitious habit, which he had contracted early, and from which he 
 had never called upon his reason to disentangle him. This 
 was his anxious care to go out or in at a door or passage, by a 
 certain number of steps from a certain point, or at least so as that 
 either his right or his left foot (I am not certain which,) should 
 constantly make the first actual movement when he came close 
 
 ^ [It used to be imagined at Mr. Thrale's, when Johnson retired to a window 
 or corner of the room, by perceiving his lips in motion, and hearing a murmur 
 without audible articulation, that he was praying ; but this was not always 
 the case, for I was once, perhaps unperceived by him, writing at a table, so 
 near the place of his retreat, that I heard him repeating some lines in an ode 
 of Horace, over and over again, as if by iteration to exercise the organs of 
 speech, and fix the ode in his memory : 
 
 Audiet civcs acadsse f err tun. 
 Quo graves Persas nielius perirent, 
 Audiet pugnas .... 
 
 " Our sons shall hear, shall hear to latest times, 
 Of Roman arms with civil gore imbued, 
 Which better had the Persian foe subdued."— FRANCIS.] 
 
 [It was during the American war.— Burney.]
 
 Age 55.] HYPOCHONDRIA— PERSONAL ODDITIES. 369 
 
 to the door or passage. Thus I conjecture : for I have, upon 
 innumerable occasions, observed him suddenly stop, and then 
 seem to count his steps with a deep earnestness ; and when he 
 had neglected or gone wrong in this sort of magical movement, 
 I have seen him go back again, put himself in a proper posture 
 to begin the ceremony, and, having gone through it, break from 
 his abstraction, walk briskly on, and join his companion. A 
 strange instance of something of this nature, even when on horse- 
 back, happened when he was in the Isle of Sky.^ Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds has observed him to go a good way about, rather than 
 cross a particular alley in Leicester-fields ; but this Sir Joshua 
 imputed to his having had some disagreeable recollection 
 associated with it. 
 
 That the most minute singularities which belonged to him, and 
 made very observable parts of his appearance and manner, may 
 not be omitted, it is requisite to mention, that while talking or 
 even musing as he sat in his chair, he commonly held his head to 
 one side towards his right shoulder, and shook it in a tremulous 
 manner, moving his body backwards and forwards, and rubbing 
 his left knee in the same direction, with the palm of his hand. 
 In the intervals of articulating he made various sounds with his 
 mouth ; sometimes as if ruminating, or what is called chewing 
 the cud, sometimes giving a half whistle, sometimes making his 
 tongue play backwards from the roof of his mouth, as if clucking 
 like a hen, and sometimes protruding it against his upper gums 
 in front, as if pronouncing quickly under his breath, too, too, too : 
 all this, accompanied sometimes with a thoughtful look, but more 
 frequently with a smile. Generally when he had concluded a 
 period, in the course of a dispute, by which time he was a good 
 deal exhausted by violence and vociferation, he used to blow out 
 his breath like a whale. This I suppose was a relief to his 
 lungs; and seemed in him to be a contemptuous mode of expres- 
 sion, as if he had made the arguments of his opponent fly like 
 chaff before the wind. 
 
 I am fully aware how very obvious an occasion I here give for 
 the sneering jocularity of such as have no relish of an exact 
 
 ^ Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d edit. p. 316. 
 VOL. I. B B
 
 370 
 
 BO SWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 
 
 [1764. 
 
 likeness ; which, to render complete, he who draws it must not 
 disdain the slightest strokes. But if witlings should be inclined 
 to attack this account, let them have the candour to quote what 
 I have offered in my defence. 
 
 He was for some time in the summer at Easton Maudit, 
 Northamptonshire, on a visit to the Reverend Dr. Percy, now 
 Bishop of Dromore.^ Whatever dissatisfaction he felt at what he 
 considered as a slow progress in intellectual improvement, we 
 find that his heart was tender, and his affections w^arm, as 
 appears from the following very kind letter : — 
 
 " TO JOSHUA REYNOLDS, ESQ., IN LEICESTER-FIELDS, LONDON. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I DID not hear of your sickness till I heard likewise of 
 your recovery, and therefore escaped that part of your pain, 
 which every man must feel, to whom you are known as you 
 are known to mc. 
 
 " Having had no particular account of your disorder, I know 
 not in what state it has left you. If the amusement of my 
 company can exhilarate the languor of a slow recovery, I 
 will not delay a day to come to you ; for I know not how I 
 can so effectually promote my own pleasure as by pleasing 
 you, or my own interest as by preserving you, in whom, if I 
 should lose you, I should lose almost the only man whom I 
 call a friend. 
 
 " Pray, let me hear of you from yourself, or from dear Miss 
 Reynolds.^ Make my compliments to Mr. Mudge. I am, 
 dear Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate and most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "At the Rev. Mr. Percy's, at Easton Maudit, Northamptonshire, 
 (by Castle Ashby,) Aug. 19, 1764." 
 
 1 [He spent parts of the months of June, July, and August with me, accom- 
 panied by his friend, Mrs. Williams, whom Mrs. Percy found a very agreeable 
 companion. — Percy.] [Percy was the son of a grocer at Bridgenorth, who 
 entered the Church, attached himself very profitably as a "Percy" to the 
 Duke of Northumberland, and married, in 1759, ^ ^^^y who had nursed a 
 prince. His chief and great service to literature was the publication, in 1765, 
 of his Reliqucs 0/ Ancient E?iglish Poetty from a MS. book containing copies 
 of pieces pleasant to their transcriber, which he had found in his home at 
 Bridgenorth.] 
 
 '^ Sir Joshua's sister, for whom Johnson had a particular affection, and to 
 whom he wrote many letters which I have seen, and which I am sorry her too 
 nice delicacy will not permit to be published.
 
 Age 55-] FRIENDSHIP WITH REYNOLDS. 371 
 
 Early in the year 1765 he paid a short visit to the University 
 of Cambridge, v.^ith his friend Mr. Beauclerk. There is a Hvely 
 picturesque account of his behaviour on this visit, in the Gentle- 
 man's Magazine for March 1785, being an extract of a letter 
 from the late Dr. John Sharp. The two following sentences are 
 very characteristical : " He drank his large potations of tea with 
 me, interrupted by many an indignant contradiction, and many 
 a noble sentiment." — " Several persons got into his company the 
 last evening at Trinity, where, about twelve, he began to be very 
 great ; stripped poor Mrs. Macaulay to the very skin, then gave 
 her for his toast, and drank her in two bumpers." 
 
 The strictness of his self-examination, and scrupulous Chris- 
 tian humility, appear in his pious meditation on Easter-day this 
 year. — 
 
 " I purpose again to partake of the blessed sacrament ; yet 
 when I consider how vainly I have hitherto resolved at this 
 annual commemoration of my Saviour's death, to regulate my 
 life by his laws, I am almost afraid to renew my resolutions." 
 
 The concluding words are very remarkable, and shew that he 
 laboured under a severe depression of spirits. 
 
 " Since the last Easter I have reformed no evil habit ; my 
 time has been unprofitably spent, and seems as a dream that 
 has left nothing behind. My memory grows confused, and I 
 know not how the days pass over me. Good Lord, deliver me ! " ^ 
 
 No man was more gratefully sensible of any kindness done to 
 him than Johnson. There is a little circumstance in his diary 
 this year, which shews him in a very amiable light. 
 
 "July 2. I paid Mr. Simpson ten guineas, which he had for- 
 merly lent me in my necessity, and for which Tetty expressed 
 her gratitude." 
 
 "July 8. I lent Mr. Simpson ten guineas more." 
 
 Here he had a pleasing opportunity of doing the same kind- 
 ness to an old friend, which he had formerly received from him. 
 
 1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 61. 
 
 B B 2
 
 372 BOSWELVS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1765. 
 
 Indeed his liberality as to money was very remarkable. The 
 next article in his diary is, "July i6th, I received seventy-five 
 pounds. Lent Mr. Davies twenty-five." 
 
 Trinity College, Dublin, at this time surprised Johnson with 
 a spontaneous compliment of the highest academical honours, 
 by creating him Doctor of Laws. The diploma, which is in my 
 possession, is as follows : 
 
 "OMNIBUS ad qiios prcesentes litcrcB pcrvenerint, saint an. 
 Nos Prcspositus et Socii Seniores Collcgii saa^osaiictcs et individiicc 
 Trinitatis Regince ElizabctJice jiixta Dublin, testamur, Samueli 
 Johnson, Annigcro, oh egrcgiain scriptoriim degantiain et titilita- 
 tcni, gratiani concessam fiiisse pro gradu Ductoratiis in ntroque 
 Jure, octavo die JiUii, Anno Domini inillcsimo septingentesimo 
 scxagesimo-qninto. In cujns rei testimonium sin^ulorinn manus 
 et sigillnm qno in liisce ntimur apposnimns ; viccsimo tcrtio die 
 Julii, Anno Domini millesivw septingentesimo scxagesimo-qninto. 
 
 "GuL. Clement. Fran. Andrews. R. Murray. 
 Tho. Wilson. Prcef. Rob'"' Law. 
 
 Tho. Leland. Mich. Kearney " 
 
 This unsolicited mark of distinction, conferred on so great a 
 literary character, did much honour to the judgement and 
 liberal spirit of that learned body. Johnson acknowledged the 
 favour in a letter to Dr. Leland, one of their number ; but I 
 have not been able to obtain a copy of it.^ 
 
 He appears this year to have been seized with a temporary fit 
 of ambition, for he had thoughts both of studying law and of 
 
 1 [Since the publication of the edition in 1S04, a copy of this letter has been 
 obligingly communicated to me by John Leland, Esq., son to the learned 
 Historian, to whom it is addressed : 
 
 "to the rev. dr. leland. 
 
 "SIR, 
 
 "Among the names subscribed to the degree which I have had the 
 honour of receiving from the University of Dublin, I find none of which 1 
 have any personal knowledge but those of Dr. Andrews and yourself. 
 
 " Men can be estimated by those who know them not, only as they are 
 represented by those who know them ; and therefore I flatter myself that 
 I owe much of the pleasure which this distinction gives me, to your 
 concurrence with Dr. Andrews in recommending me to the learned society. 
 
 " Having desired the Provost to return my general thanks to the University.
 
 Age 56.] BECOMES '' DOCTOR" JOHNSON. 373 
 
 eiif^af^ine in politicks. His " Prayer before the Study of Law," 
 
 is truly admirable : _ 
 
 'Sept. 26, 1765. 
 "Almighty GOD, the giver of wisdom, without whose help 
 resolutions are vain, without whose blessing study is ineffectual ; 
 enable me, if it be thy will, to attain such knowledge as may 
 qualify me to direct the doubtful, and instruct the ignorant ; to 
 prevent wrongs and terminate contentions ; and grant that I 
 may use that knowledge which I shall attain, to thy glory and 
 my own salvation, for jESUS CHRIST'S sake. Amen." ^ 
 
 His prayer in the view of becoming a politician is entitled, 
 
 " En"-aginsf in POLITICKS with H n," no doubt, his friend, the 
 
 Rio-ht Honourable William Gerald Hamilton, for whom, during 
 a long acquaintance, he had a great esteem, and to whose con- 
 versation he once paid this high compliment : " I am very 
 unwilling to be left alone. Sir, and therefore I go with my 
 company down the first pair of stairs, in some hopes that they 
 may, perhaps, return again ; I go with you. Sir, as far as the 
 street-door." In what particular department he intended to 
 engage,^ does not appear, nor can Mr. Hamilton explain. His 
 prayer is in general terms : 
 
 I beg that you, Sir, will accept my particular and immediate acknow- 
 ledgments. 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 " Your most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 " Johnson's-court, Fleet-street, 
 London, Oct. 17, 1765." 
 
 I have not been able to recover the letter which Johnson wrote to Dr. 
 Andrews on this occasion. — ALvLONE.] [The college bestowed the same 
 degree at this time on William Alelmoth, Esq., translator of Pliny, &c. — 
 Chalmers.] 
 
 1 Prayers and Meditations, p. 66. 
 
 2 [In the Preface to a late Collection of Mr. Hamilton's Pieces, it has been 
 observed, that our authour was, by the generality of Johnson's words, "led 
 to suppose that he was seized with a temporary fit of ambition, and that 
 hence he was induced to apply his thoughts to law and politicks. But Mr. 
 Boswell was certainly mistaken in this respect : and these words merely 
 allude to Johnson's having at that time entered into some engagement with 
 Mr. Hamilton occasionally to furni h him with his sentiments on the great 
 political topicks which should be considered in Parliament." In consequence 
 of this engagement, Johnson, in November, 1766, wrote a very valuable 
 tract, entitled, "Considerations on Corn," which is printed as an Appendix 
 to the works of Mr. Hamiltons, published by T. Payne, 1808.— M ALONE.]
 
 374 BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1765. 
 
 " Enlighten my understanding with knowledge of right, and 
 govern my will by thy laws, that no deceit may mislead me, nor 
 temptation corrupt me ; and that I may always endeavour to do 
 good, and hinder evil." ^ 
 
 There is nothing upon the subject in his diary. 
 This year was distinguished by his being introduced into the 
 family of Mr. Thrale, one of the most eminent brewers in 
 England, and member of Parliament for the borough of South- 
 wark. Foreigners are not a little amazed, when they hear of 
 brewers, distillers, and men in similar departments of trade, 
 held forth as persons of considerable consequence. In this 
 great commercial country it is natural that a situation which 
 produces much wealth should be considered as very respectable ; 
 and, no doubt, honest industry is entitled to esteem. But, per- 
 haps, the too rapid advances of men of low extraction tends to 
 lessen the value of that distinction by birth and gentility, which 
 has ever been found beneficial to the grand scheme of subor- 
 dination. Johnson used to give this account of the rise of 
 Mr. Thrale's father : " He worked at six shillings a week for 
 twenty years in the great brewery, which afterwards was his 
 own. The proprietor of it^ had an only daughter, who was 
 married to a nobleman. It was not fit that a peer should 
 continue the business. On the old man's death, therefore, the 
 brewery was to be sold. To find a purchaser for so large a 
 property was a difficult matter ; and, after some time, it was 
 suggested, that it would be adviseable to treat with Thrale, a 
 sensible, active, honest man, who had been employed in the 
 house, and to transfer the whole to him for thirty thousand 
 pounds, security being taken upon the property. This was 
 accordingly settled. In eleven years Thrale paid the purchase- 
 money. He acquired a large fortune, and lived to be a member 
 
 ^ Prayers and Meditations, p. 67. 
 
 ^ [The predecessor ofrold Thrale was Edmund Halsey, Esq. ; the nobleman 
 who married his daughter, was Lord Cobhara, great uncle of the Marquis of 
 Buckingham. But I believe Dr. Johnson was mistaken in assigning so very 
 low an origin to Mr. Thrale. The Clerk of St. Albans, a very aged man, 
 told me, that he (the elder Thrale) married a sister of Mr. Halsey. It is at 
 least certain that the family of Thrale was of some consideration in that 
 town : in the abbey church is a handsome monument to the memory of Mr, 
 
 II
 
 Age 56.] IS INTRODUCED TO THE THRALES. 375 
 
 of Parliament for Southvvark.^ But what was most remarkable 
 was the liberality with which he used his riches. He gave his 
 son and daughters the best education. The esteem which his 
 good conduct procured him from the nobleman who had married 
 his master's daughter, made him be treated with much attention ; 
 and his son, both at school and at the University of Oxford, 
 associated with young men of the first rank. His allowance 
 from his father after he left college was splendid ; not less than 
 a thousand a year. This, in a man who had risen as old Thrale 
 did, was a very extraordinary instance of generosity. He used 
 to say, * If this young dog does not find so much after I am 
 gone as he expects, let him remember that he has had a great 
 deal in my own time.' " 
 
 The son, though in affluent circumstances, had good sense 
 enough to carry on his father's trade, which was of such an 
 extent, that I remember he once told me, he would not quit it 
 for an annuity of ten thousand a year ; " Not (said he) that I 
 get ten thousand a year by it, but it is an estate to a family." 
 Having left daughters only, the property was sold for the immense 
 sum of one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds ; a magni- 
 ficent proof of what may be done b> fair trade in a long period 
 of time. 
 
 There may be some who think that a new system of gentility ^ 
 
 John Thrale, late of London, Merchant, who died in 1704, aged 54 ; Margaret, 
 his wife, and three of their children who died young, between the years 1676 
 and 1690. The arms upon the monument are, paly of eight, gules and or, 
 impaling, ermine, on a chief indented vert, three wolves' (or gryphons') heads, 
 or, couped at the neck : — Crest on a ducal coronet, a tree, vert. — 
 Blakeway.] 
 
 ^ [In 1733 he served the office of High Sheriff for Surrey; was elected 
 M.P. for Southwark in 1740; and died in April 9, 1758. His widow died 
 April 3, 1760. — Chalmers.] 
 
 ^ Mrs. Burney informs me that she heard Dr. Johnson say, " An English 
 Merchant is a new species of Gentleman." He, perhaps, had' in his mind the 
 following ingenious passage in "The Conscious Lovers," Act iv., Scene ii., 
 where Mr. Sealand thus addresses Sir John Bevil : "Give me leave to say, 
 that we merchants are a species of gentry that have grown into the world this 
 last century, and are as honourable, and almost as useful, as you landed-folks, 
 that have always thought yourselves so much above us ; for your trading 
 forsooth is extended no farther than a load of hay, or a fat ox. You are 
 pleasant people, indeed ! because you are generally bred up to be lazy; there- 
 fore, I warrant you, industry is dishonourable."
 
 37^ BOSWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1765. 
 
 might be established upon principles totally different from what 
 have hitherto prevailed. Our present heraldry, it may be said, 
 is suited to the barbarous times in which it had its origin. It is 
 chiefly founded upon ferocious merit, upon military excellence. 
 Why, in civilized times, we may be asked, should there not be 
 rank and honours, upon principles which, independent of long 
 custom, are certainly not less worthy, and wdiich, when once 
 allowed to be connected with elevation and precedency, would 
 obtain the same dignity in our imagination } Why should not 
 the knowledge, the skill, the expertness, the assiduity, and the 
 spirited hazards of trade and commerce, when crowned with 
 success, be entitled to give those flattering distinctions by 
 which mankind are so universally captivated .'' 
 
 Such are the specious but false arguments for a proposition 
 which always will find numerous advocates in a nation where 
 men are every day starting up from obscurity to wealth. 
 To refute them is needless. The general sense of mankind 
 cries out, with irresistible force, " Un gentilJiomme est toujojirs 
 gentilJiomme" 
 
 Mr. Thrale had married Miss Hester Lynch Salusbury, of 
 good Welch extraction, a lady of lively talents, improved by 
 education. That Johnson's introduction into Mr. Thrale's 
 family, which contributed so much to the happiness of his life, 
 was owing to her desire for his conversation, is a very probable 
 and the general supposition : but it is not the truth. Mr. 
 Murphy, who was intimate with Mr. Thrale, having spoken 
 very highly of Dr. Johnson, he was requested to make them 
 acquainted. This being mentioned to Johnson, he accepted of 
 an invitation to dinner at Thrale's, and was so much pleased 
 with his reception, both by Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, and they so 
 much pleased with him, that his invitations to their house were 
 more and more frequent, till at last he became one of the 
 family, and an apartment was appropriated to him, both in 
 their house at Southwark, and in their villa at Streatham.^ 
 
 ^ ["The first time," says Mrs. Piozzi, "I ever saw this extraordinary man 
 was in the year 1764, when Mr. Murphy, who had long been the friend and 
 confidential intimate of Mr. Thrale, persuaded him to wish for Johnson's 
 conversation, extolling it in terms which that of no other person could have
 
 Age 56.] MR. AND MRS. THRALE. 2>77 
 
 Johnson had a very sincere esteem for Mr. Thrale, as a man 
 of excellent prhiciples, a good scholar, well skilled in trade, of 
 a sound understanding, and of manners such as presented 
 the character of a plain independent English 'Squire. As this 
 family will frequently be mentioned in the course of the follow- 
 ing pages, and as a false notion has prevailed that Mr. Thrale 
 was inferiour, and in some degree insignificant, compared with 
 Mrs. Thrale, it may be proper to give a true state of the case 
 from the authority of Johnson himself in his own words. 
 
 " I know no man (said he) who is more master of his wife and 
 family than Thrale. If he but holds up a finger, he is obeyed. 
 It is a great mistake to suppose that she is above him in literary 
 attainments. She is more flippant, but he has ten times her 
 learning ; he is a regular scholar, but her learning is that of 
 a school-boy in one of the lower forms." My readers may 
 naturally wish for some representations of the figures of this 
 couple. Mr. Thrale was tall, well-proportioned, and stately. As 
 for Madani^ or my Mistress, by which epithets Johnson used to 
 mention Mrs. Thrale, she was short, plump, and brisk. She has 
 herself given us a lively view of the idea which Johnson had 
 of her person, on her appearing before him in a dark-coloured 
 gown: "You little creatures should never wear those sort of 
 clothes, however ; they are unsuitable in every way. What ! 
 have not all insects gay colours ? " ^ Mr. Thrale gave his wife 
 a liberal indulgence, both in the choice of their company, and 
 in the mode of entertaining them. He understood and valued 
 
 deserved, till we were only in doubt how to obtain his company, and find an 
 excuse for the invitation. The celebrity of Mr. Woodhouse, a shoemaker, 
 whose verses were at that time the subject of common discourse, soon afforded 
 a pretence, and Mr. Murphy brought Johnson to meet him, giving me general 
 cautions not to be surprised at his figure, dress, or behaviour. What I recol- 
 lect best of the day's talk was his earnestly recommending Addison's works 
 to Mr. Woodhouse as a model for imitation. ' Give nights and days, Sir,' 
 said he, 'to the study of Addison, if you mean either to be a good writer, or 
 what is more worth, an honest man.' When I saw something like the same 
 expression in his criticism on that author, in the Lives of the Poets, I put 
 him in mind of his past injunctions to the young poet, to which he replied, 
 'that he wished the shoemaker might have remembered them as well' Mr. 
 Johnson liked his new acquaintance so much, however, that from that time 
 he dined with us every Thursday through the winter." — Croker.] [Mrs. 
 Thrale' s age then was about twenty-five, and Johnson's fifty-six.] 
 ^ Mrs. Piozzi's Anecdotes, p. 279.
 
 37S BOS WELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1765. 
 
 Johnson, without remission, from their first acquaintance to the 
 day of his death. Mrs. Thrale was enchanted with Johnson's 
 conversation for its own sake, and had also a very allowable 
 v^anity in appearing to be honoured with the attention of so 
 celebrated a man. 
 
 Nothing could be more fortunate for Johnson than this con- 
 nection. He had at Mr. Thrale's all the comforts and even 
 luxuries of life : his melancholy was diverted, and h:s irregular 
 habits lessened by association with an agreeable and well- 
 ordered family. He was treated with the utmost respect, and 
 even affection. The vivacity of Mrs. Thrale's literary talk 
 roused him to cheerfulness and exertion, even when they were 
 alone. But this was not often the case ; for he found here a 
 constant succession of what gave him the highest enjoyment, 
 the society of the learned, the witty, and the eminent in every 
 way, who were assembled in numerous companies, called forth 
 his wonderful powers, and gratified him with admiration, to 
 which no man could be insensible. 
 
 In the October of this year^ he at length gave to the world 
 his edition of Shakspeare, which, if it had no other merit but 
 that of producing his Preface, in which the excellencies and 
 defects of that immortal bard are displayed with a masterly 
 hand, the nation would have had no reason to complain. A 
 blind indiscriminate admiration of Shakspeare had exposed the 
 British nation to the ridicule of foreigners. Johnson, by candidly 
 admitting the faults of his poet, had the more credit in bestowing 
 on him deserved and indisputable praise ; and doubtless none of 
 all his panegyrists have done him half so much honour. Their 
 
 1 [From a letter written by Dr. Johnson to Dr. Joseph Warton, the day 
 after the publication of his Shakspeare, Oct. 9, 1765 (see Wooll's Memoirs of 
 Dr. Warton, 4to. i8o5) it appears that Johnson spent some tnne with that 
 gentleman at Winchester in this year. In a letter written by Dr. Warton, to 
 Mr. Thomas Warton, not long afterwards (January 28, 1766), is a paragraph, 
 which may throw some light on various passages in Dr. Warton' s edition of 
 I'opc, relative to Johnson :— " I only dined with Johnson, who seemed cold 
 and indifferent, and scarce said any thing to me : perhaps he has heard what 
 I said of his Shakspeare, or rather was offended at what I wrote to him : 
 —as he pleases." The letter here alluded to, it is believed, has not been 
 preserved : at least, it does not appear in the collection above referred to.— 
 Malone.]
 
 Age 56.] HIS EDITION OF SHAKSPEARE PUBLISHED. 379 
 
 praise was like that of a counsel upon his own side of the cause ; 
 Johnson's was like the grave, well-considered, and impartial 
 opinion of the judge, which fails from his lips with weight, and 
 is received with reverence. What he did as a commentator has 
 no small share of merit, though his researches were not so ample, 
 and his investigations so acute, as they might have been ; which 
 we now certainly know from the labours of other able and in- 
 genious criticks who have followed him. He has enriched his 
 edition with a concise account of each play, and of its charac- 
 tcristick excellence. Many of his notes have illustrated obscurities 
 in the text and placed passages eminent for beauty in a more 
 conspicuous light ; and he has, in general, exhibited such a mode 
 of annotation, as may be beneficial to all subsequent editors. 
 
 His Shakspeare was virulently attacked by Mr. William 
 Kenrick,^ who obtained the degree of LL.D. from a Scotch 
 University, and wrote for the booksellers in a great variety of 
 branches. Though he certainly was not without considerable 
 merit, he wrote with so little regard to decency, and principles, 
 and decorum, and in so hasty a manner, that his reputation was 
 neither extensive nor lasting. I remember one evening, when 
 some of his works were mentioned Dr. Goldsmith said he had 
 never heard of them ; upon which Dr. Johnson observed, " Sir, 
 he is one of the many who have made themselves piiblick 
 without making themselves knoivn!' 
 
 A young student of Oxford, of the name of Barclay, wrote 
 an answer to Kenrick's review of Johnson's Shakspeare. Johnson 
 was at first angry that Kenrick's attack should have the credit 
 of an answer. But afterwards, considering the young man's 
 good intention, he kindly noticed him, and probably would have 
 done more, had not the young man died. 
 
 In his Preface to Shakspeare, Johnson treated Voltaire very 
 
 ^ [Kenrick was born at Watford, Herts, and was brought up to the business 
 of a rule-maker., which he quitted for literature. Of this ''attack," entitled 
 " A Review of Dr. Johnson's new edition of Shakspeare ; in which the 
 Ignorance or Inattention of that Editor is exposed, and the Poet defended 
 from the Persecution of his Commentators," Dr. Johnson only said, " He did 
 not think himself bound by Kenrick's rules." In 1774 he delivered Lectures 
 on Shakspeare, and the next year commenced the London Review, which he 
 continued to his death, June 10, 1779. — Wright.]
 
 38o BO SWELLS LIFE OF JOHNSON. [1765. 
 
 contemptuously, observing, upon some of his remarkS; " These 
 are the petty cavils of petty minds." Voltaire, in revenge, made 
 an attack upon Johnson in one of his numerous literary sallies, 
 which I remember to have read ; but there being- no general 
 index to his voluminous works, have searched in vain, and 
 therefore cannot quote it.^ 
 
 Voltaire was an antagonist v/ith whom I thought Johnson 
 should not disdain to contend. I pressed him to answer. He 
 said, he perhaps might ; but he never did. 
 
 Mr. Burney having occasion to write to Johnson for some 
 receipts for subscriptions to his Shakspeare, which Johnson had 
 omitted to deliver when the money was paid, he availed himself 
 of that opportunity of thanking Johnson for the great pleasure 
 which he had received from the perusal of his Preface to Shak- 
 speare ; which, although it excited much clamour against him 
 at first, is now justly ranked among the most excellent of 
 his writings. To this letter Johnson returned the following 
 answer : — 
 
 "TO CHARLES BURNEY, ESQ., IN POLAND-STREET. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 "I AM sorry that your kindness to me has brought 
 upon you so much trouble, though you have taken care to abate 
 that sorrow, by the pleasure which I receive from your appro- 
 bation. I defend my criticism in the same manner with you. 
 We must confess the faults of our favourite to gain credit to 
 our praise of his excellencies. He that claims, either in himself 
 or for another, the honours of perfection, will surely injure the 
 reputation which he designs to assist. 
 
 "Be pleased to make my compliments to your family. I 
 am, Sir, 
 
 " Your most obliged 
 
 " And most humble servant, 
 
 " Sam. Johnson. 
 
 "Oct. 16, 1765." 
 
 ^ [" Je ne veux point soup^onner le sieur Jonson d'etre un mauvais plaisant, 
 et d'aimcr trop le vin : mais je trouve un peu singulier qu'il compte Li 
 bouffonncrie et I'ivrog-neric parmi les beautes du theatre tragique ; " iSic. &c. 
 — Dictionnaire Philosophique, art. " Art Dramatiquc." Voltaire, edit. 1784, 
 vol. xxxviii. p. 10. — Wright.]
 
 Age 56.] TRUST IN GOD. 381 
 
 From one of his Journals I transcribe what follows : — 
 
 " At church, Oct. —65. 
 
 " To avoid all singularity ; Bonaventura. 
 
 " To come in before service, and compose my mind by 
 meditation or by reading some portions of Scripture. Tetty. 
 
 " If I can hear the sermon, to attend it, unless attention be 
 more troublesome than useful. 
 
 "To consider the act of prayer as a reposal of myself upon 
 God, and a resignation of all into his holy hand." 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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