The Life of Samuel Johnson

by James Boswell

  Such was the heat and irritability of his blood, that not only did he pare his nails to the quick; but scraped the joints of his fingers with a pen-knife, till they seemed quite red and raw.

  The heterogeneous composition of human nature was remarkably exemplified in Johnson. His liberality in giving his money to persons in distress was extraordinary. Yet there lurked about him a propensity to paltry saving. One day I owned to him that ‘I was occasionally troubled with a fit of narrowness.’ ‘Why, Sir, (said he,) so am I. But I do not tell it.’ He has now and then borrowed a shilling of me; and when I asked for it again, seemed to be rather out of humour. A droll little circumstance once occurred: as if he meant to reprimand my minute exactness as a creditor, he thus addressed me: – ‘Boswell, lend me sixpence –not to be repaid.’

  This great man’s attention to small things was very remarkable. As an instance of it, he one day said to me, ‘Sir, when you get silver in change for a guinea, look carefully at it; you may find some curious piece of coin.’

  Though a stern true-born Englishman, and fully prejudiced against all other nations, he had discernment enough to see, and candour enough to censure, the cold reserve too common among Englishmen towards strangers: ‘Sir, (said he,) two men of any other nation who are shewn into a room together, at a house where they are both visitors, will immediately find some conversation. But two Englishmen will probably go each to a different window, and remain in obstinate silence. Sir, we as yet do not enough understand the common rights of humanity.’

  Johnson was at a certain period of his life a good deal with the Earl of Shelburne, now Marquis of Lansdown, as he doubtless could not but have a due value for that nobleman’s activity of mind, and uncommon acquisitions of important knowledge, however much he might disapprove of other parts of his Lordship’s character, which were widely different from his own.

  Maurice Morgann, Esq. authour of the very ingenious Essay on the character of Falstaff,a being a particular friend of his Lordship, had once an opportunity of entertaining Johnson for a day or two at Wickham,1104when its Lord was absent, and by him I have been favoured with two anecdotes.

  One is not a little to the credit of Johnson’s candour. Mr. Morgann and he had a dispute pretty late at night, in which Johnson would not give up, though he had the wrong side, and in short, both kept the field. Next morning, when they met in the breakfasting-room, Dr. Johnson accosted Mr. Morgann thus: – ‘Sir, I have been thinking on our dispute last night –You were in the right.’

  The other was as follows: – Johnson, for sport perhaps, or from the spirit of contradiction, eagerly maintained that Derrick had merit as a writer. Mr. Morgann argued with him directly in vain. At length he had recourse to this device. ‘Pray, Sir, (said he,) whether do you reckon Derrick or Smart the best poet?’ Johnson at once felt himself rouzed; and answered, ‘Sir, there is no settling the point of precedency between a louse and a flea.’

  Once, when checking my boasting too frequently of myself in company, he said to me, ‘Boswell, you often vaunt so much as to provoke ridicule. You put me in mind of a man who was standing in the kitchen of an inn with his back to the fire, and thus accosted the person next him, “Do you know, Sir, who I am?” “ No, Sir, (said the other,) I have not that advantage.” “ Sir, (said he,) I am the great Twalmley, who invented the New Flood-gate Iron.” ‘a The Bishop of Killaloe, on my repeating the story to him, defended Twalmley, by observing, that he was entitled to the epithet of great; for Virgil in his groupe of worthies in the Elysian fields –

  Hie manus ob patriam pugnando vulnera passi; &c.1105

  mentions

  Inventas aut qui vitam excoluere per artes.1106

  He was pleased to say to me one morning when we were left alone in his study, ‘Boswell, I think I am easier with you than with almost any body.’

  He would not allow Mr. David Hume any credit for his political principles, though similar to his own; saying of him, ‘Sir, he was a Tory by chance.’

  His acute observation of human life made him remark, ‘Sir, there is nothing by which a man exasperates most people more, than by displaying a superiour ability or brilliancy in conversation. They seem pleased at the time; but their envy makes them curse him in their hearts.’

  My readers will probably be surprised to hear that the great Dr. Johnson could amuse himself with so slight and playful a species of composition as a Charade. I have recovered one which he made on Dr. Barnard, now Lord Bishop of Killaloe; who has been pleased for many years to treat me with so much intimacy and social ease, that I may presume to call him not only my Right Reverend, but my very dear Friend. I therefore with peculiar pleasure give to the world a just and elegant compliment thus paid to his Lordship by Johnson.

  CHARADE.

  My firsta shuts out thieves from your house or your room,

  My secondb expresses a Syrian perfume.

  My wholec is a man in whose converse is shar’d,

  The strength of a Bar and the sweetness of Nard.’

  Johnson asked Richard Owen Cambridge, Esq. if he had read the Spanish translation of Sallust, said to be written by a Prince of Spain, with the assistance of his tutor,1107 who is professedly the authour of a treatise annexed, on the Phœnician language.

  Mr. Cambridge commended the work particularly, as he thought the Translator understood his authour better than is commonly the case with Translators: but said, he was disappointed in the purpose for which he borrowed the book; to see whether a Spaniard could be better furnished with inscriptions from monuments, coins, or other antiquities which he might more probably find on a coast, so immediately opposite to Carthage, than the Antiquaries of any other countries. Johnson. ‘I am very sorry you was not gratified in your expectations.’ CAMBRIDGE. ‘The language would have been of little use, as there is no history existing in that tongue to balance the partial accounts which the Roman writers have left us.’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir. They have not been partial, they have told their own story, without shame or regard to equitable treatment of their injured enemy; they had no compunction, no feeling for a Carthaginian. Why, Sir, they would never have borne Virgil’s description of æneas’s treatment of Dido, if she had not been a Carthaginian.’

  I gratefully acknowledge this and other communications from Mr. Cambridge, whom, if a beautiful villa on the banks of the Thames, a few miles distant from London, a numerous and excellent library, which he accurately knows and reads, a choice collection of pictures, which he understands and relishes, an easy fortune, an amiable family, an extensive circle of friends and acquaintance, distinguished by rank, fashion and genius, a literary fame, various, elegant and still increasing, colloquial talents rarely to be found, and with all these means of happiness, enjoying, when well advanced in years, health and vigour of body, serenity and animation of mind, do not entitle to be addressed fortunate senex!1108 I know not to whom, in any age, that expression could with propriety have been used. Long may he live to hear and to feel it!

  Johnson’s love of little children, which he discovered upon all occasions, calling them ‘pretty dears,’ and giving them sweetmeats, was an undoubted proof of the real humanity and gentleness of his disposition.

  His uncommon kindness to his servants, and serious concern, not only for their comfort in this world, but their happiness in the next, was another unquestionable evidence of what all, who were intimately acquainted with him, knew to be true.

  Nor would it be just, under this head, to omit the fondness which he shewed for animals which he had taken under his protection. I never shall forget the indulgence with which he treated Hodge, his cat: for whom he himself used to go out and buy oysters, lest the servants having that trouble should take a dislike to the poor creature. I am, unluckily, one of those who have an antipathy to a cat, so that I am uneasy when in the room with one; and I own, I frequently suffered a good deal from the presence of this same Hodge. I recollect him one day scrambling up Dr. Johnson’s breast, apparently with much satisfaction, while
my friend smiling and half-whistling, rubbed down his back, and pulled him by the tail; and when I observed he was a fine cat, saying, ‘why yes, Sir, but I have had cats whom I liked better than this;’ and then as if perceiving Hodge to be out of countenance, adding, ‘but he is a very fine cat, a very fine cat indeed.’

  This reminds me of the ludicrous account which he gave Mr. Langton, of the despicable state of a young Gentleman of good family. ‘Sir, when I heard of him last, he was running about town shooting cats.’ And then in a sort of kindly reverie, he bethought himself of his own favourite cat, and said, ‘But Hodge shan’t be shot; no, no, Hodge shall not be shot.’

  He thought Mr. Beauclerk made a shrewd and judicious remark to Mr. Langton, who, after having been for the first time in company with a well known wit about town, was warmly admiring and praising him, ‘See him again,’ said Beauclerk.

  His respect for the Hierarchy, and particularly the Dignitaries of the Church, has been more than once exhibited in the course of this work. Mr. Seward saw him presented to the Archbishop of York, and described his Bow to an Arch-Bishop, as such a studied elaboration of homage, such an extension of limb, such a flexion of body, as have seldom or ever been equalled.

  I cannot help mentioning with much regret, that by my own negligence I lost an opportunity of having the history of my family from its founder Thomas Boswell, in 1504, recorded and illustrated by Johnson’s pen. Such was his goodness to me, that when I presumed to solicit him for so great a favour, he was pleased to say, ‘Let me have all the materials you can collect, and I will do it both in Latin and English; then let it be printed and copies of it be deposited in various places for security and preservation.’ I can now only do the best I can to make up for this loss, keeping my great Master steadily in view. Family histories, like the imagines majorum1109 of the Ancients, excite to virtue; and I wish that they who really have blood, would be more careful to trace and ascertain its course. Some have affected to laugh at the history of the house of Yvery:a it would be well if many others would transmit their pedigrees to posterity, with the same accuracy and generous zeal with which the Noble Lord, who compiled that work has honoured and perpetuated his ancestry.

  On Thursday, April 10, I introduced to him, at his house in Bolt-court, the Honourable and Reverend William Stuart, son of the Earl of Bute; a gentleman truly worthy of being known to Johnson; being, with all the advantages of high birth, learning, travel, and elegant manners, an exemplary parish priest in every respect.

  After some compliments on both sides, the tour which Johnson and I had made to the Hebrides was mentioned. JOHNSON. ‘I got an acquisition of more ideas by it than by any thing that I remember. I saw quite a different system of life.’ BOSWELL. ‘You would not like to make the same journey again?’ JOHNSON. ‘Why no, Sir; not the same: it is a tale told. Gravina, an Italian critick, observes, that every man desires to see that of which he has read; but no man desires to read an account of what he has seen: so much does description fall short of reality. Description only excites curiosity: seeing satisfies it. Other people may go and see the Hebrides.’ BOSWELL. ‘I should wish to go and see some country totally different from what I have been used to; such as Turkey, where religion and everything else are different.’ JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir; there are two objects of curiosity, – the Christian world, and the Mahometan world. All the rest may be considered as barbarous.’ BOSWELL. ‘Pray, Sir, is the Turkish Spy1110 a genuine book?’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir. Mrs. Manley, in her Life, says that her father wrote the first two volumes: and in another book, Dunton’s Life and Errours, we find that the rest was written by one Sault, at two guineas a sheet, under the direction of Dr. Midgeley.’b

  BOSWELL. ‘This has been a very factious reign, owing to the too great indulgence of Government.’ JOHNSON. ‘I think so, Sir. What at first was lenity, grew timidity. Yet this is reasoning à posteriori,1111 and may not be just. Supposing a few had at first been punished, I believe faction would have been crushed; but it might have been said, that it was a sanguinary reign. A man cannot tell à priori1112 what will be best for Government to do. This reign has been very unfortunate. We have had an unsuccessful war; but that does not prove that we have been ill governed. One side or other must prevail in war, as one or other must win at play. When we beat Louis, we were not better governed; nor were the French better governed when Louis beat us.’1113

  On Saturday, April 12, I visited him, in company with Mr. Windham, of Norfolk, whom, though a Whig, he highly valued. One of the best things he ever said was to this gentleman; who, before he set out for Ireland as Secretary to Lord Northington, when Lord Lieutenant, expressed to the Sage some modest and virtuous doubts, whether he could bring himself to practise those arts which it is supposed a person in that situation has occasion to employ. ‘Don’t be afraid, Sir, (said Johnson, with a pleasant smile,) you will soon make a very pretty rascal.’

  He talked to-day a good deal of the wonderful extent and variety of London, and observed, that men of curious enquiry might see in it such modes of life as very few could even imagine. He in particular recommended to us to explore Wapping, which we resolved to do.a

  Mr. Lowe, the painter, who was with him, was very much distressed that a large picture which he had painted was refused to be received into the Exhibition of the Royal Academy. Mrs. Thrale knew Johnson’s character so superficially, as to represent him as unwilling to do small acts of benevolence; and mentions in particular, that he would hardly take the trouble to write a letter in favour of his friends. The truth, however, is, that he was remarkable, in an extraordinary degree, for what she denies to him; and, above all, for this very sort of kindness, writing letters for those to whom his solicitations might be of service. He now gave Mr. Lowe the following, of which I was diligent enough, with his permission, to take copies at the next coffee-house, while Mr. Windham was so good as to stay by me.

  ‘To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS

  ‘SIR, – Mr. Lowe considers himself as cut off from all credit and all hope, by the rejection of his picture from the Exhibition. Upon this work he has exhausted all his powers, and suspended all his expectations: and, certainly, to be refused an opportunity of taking the opinion of the publick, is in itself a very great hardship. It is to be condemned without a trial.

  ‘If you could procure the revocation of this incapacitating edict, you would deliver an unhappy man from great affliction. The Council has sometimes reversed its own determination; and I hope, that by your interposition this luckless picture may be got admitted. I am, &c.

  ‘April 12, 1783.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

  ‘To MR. BARRY

  ‘SIR, – Mr. Lowe’s exclusion from the exhibition gives him more trouble than you and the other gentlemen of the Council could imagine or intend. He considers disgrace and ruin as the inevitable consequence of your determination.

  ‘He says, that some pictures have been received after rejection; and if there be any such precedent, I earnestly intreat that you will use your interest in his favour. Of his work I can say nothing; I pretend not to judge of painting; and this picture I never saw: but I conceive it extremely hard to shut out any man from the possibility of success; and therefore I repeat my request that you will propose the re-consideration of Mr. Lowe’s case; and if there be any among the Council with whom my name can have any weight, be pleased to communicate to them the desire of, Sir, your most humble servant,

  ‘April 12, 1783.’ ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

  Such intercession was too powerful to be resisted; and Mr. Lowe’s performance was admitted at Somerset Place. The subject, as I recollect, was the Deluge, at that point of time when the water was verging to the top of the last uncovered mountain. Near to the spot was seen the last of the antediluvian race, exclusive of those who were saved in the ark of Noah. This was one of those giants, then the inhabitants of the earth, who had still strength to swim, and with one of his hands held aloft his infant child. Upon the small remaining dry spot appeared a famished lion, ready t
o spring at the child and devour it. Mr. Lowe told me that Johnson said to him, ‘Sir, your picture is noble and probable.’ ‘A compliment, indeed, (said Mr. Lowe,) from a man who cannot lie, and cannot be mistaken.’

  About this time he wrote to Mrs. Lucy Porter, mentioning his bad health, and that he intended a visit to Lichfield. ‘It is, (says he,) with no great expectation of amendment that I make every year a journey into the country; but it is pleasant to visit those whose kindness has been often experienced.’

  On April 18, (being Good-Friday,) I found him at breakfast, in his usual manner upon that day, drinking tea without milk, and eating a cross-bun to prevent faintness; we went to St. Clement’s church, as formerly. When we came home from church, he placed himself on one of the stone-seats at his garden-door, and I took the other, and thus in the open air and in a placid frame of mind, he talked away very easily. JOHNSON. ‘Were I a country gentleman, I should not be very hospitable, I should not have crowds in my house.’ BOSWELL. ‘Sir Alexander Dick tells me, that he remembers having a thousand people in a year to dine at his house: that is, reckoning each person as one, each time that he dined there.’ JOHNSON. ‘That, Sir, is about three a day.’ BOSWELL. ‘How your statement lessens the idea.’ JOHNSON. ‘That, Sir, is the good of counting. It brings every thing to a certainty, which before floated in the mind indefinitely.’ BOSWELL. ‘But Omne ignotum pro magnifico est:1114 one is sorry to have this diminished.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, you should not allow yourself to be delighted with errour.’ BOSWELL. ‘Three a day seem but few.’ JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir, he who entertains three a day, does very liberally. And if there is a large family, the poor entertain those three, for they eat what the poor would get: there must be superfluous meat; it must be given to the poor, or thrown out.’ BOSWELL. ‘I observe in London, that the poor go about and gather bones, which I understand are manufactured.’ JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir; they boil them, and extract a grease from them for greasing wheels and other purposes. Of the best pieces they make a mock ivory, which is used for hafts to knives, and various other things; the coarser pieces they burn and pound, and sell the ashes.’ BOSWELL. ‘For what purpose, Sir?’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, for making a furnace for the chymists for melting iron. A paste made of burnt bones will stand a stronger heat than any thing else. Consider, Sir; if you are to melt iron, you cannot line your pot with brass, because it is softer than iron, and would melt sooner; nor with iron, for though malleable iron is harder than cast iron, yet it would not do; but a paste of burnt-bones will not melt.’ BOSWELL. ‘Do you know, Sir, I have discovered a manufacture to a great extent, of what you only piddle at, – scraping and drying the peel of oranges.a At a place in Newgate-street, there is a prodigious quantity prepared, which they sell to the distillers.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, I believe they make a higher thing out of them than a spirit; they make what is called orange-butter, the oil of the orange inspissated,1115 which they mix perhaps with common pomatum,1116 and make it fragrant. The oil does not fly off in the drying.’