Life Of Johnson, Vol. 1 by Boswell, Edited by Birkbeck Hill

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Mr. Thomas Davies the actor, who then kept a bookseller's shop in
Russel-street, Covent-garden[1151], 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.

[Page 391: Mr. Davies's back-parlour. AEtat 54.]

Mr. Thomas Davies was a man of good understanding and talents, with the
advantage of a liberal education[1152]. Though somewhat pompous, he was an
entertaining companion; and his literary performances[1153] 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[1154],)
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[1155]. 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 impatience more and more to see the extraordinary man
whose works I highly valued, and whose conversation was reported to be
so peculiarly excellent.

[Page 392: Boswell's introduction to Johnson. A.D. 1763.]

[Page 393: His first record of Johnson's talk. AEtat 54.]

At last, on Monday the 16th 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[1156]; and Mr. Davies having perceived him
through the glass-door in the room in which we were sitting, advancing
towards us,--he announced his aweful 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 engraving 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 where I come from.'--'From Scotland,' cried Davies
roguishly. 'Mr. Johnson, (said I) I do indeed come from Scotland, but I
cannot help it[1157].' 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 would 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[1158]. 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 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 consequence.
Great strength or great wisdom is of much value to an individual. But in
more polished times there are people to do every thing 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.'

[Page 394: Sheridan's lectures on Oratory. A.D. 1763.]

'Sir, this book (_The Elements of Criticism_'[1159], 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[1160].'

'The notion of liberty amuses the people of England, and helps to keep
off the _taedium vitae_. When a butcher tells you that _his heart bleeds
for his country_, he has, in fact, no uneasy feeling.'

'Sheridan will not succeed at Bath with his oratory. Ridicule has gone
down before him, and, I doubt, Derrick is his enemy[1161].'

'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.'

[Page 395: Boswell's first call on Johnson. AEtat 54.]

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.'

[Page 369: The Giant in his den. A.D. 1763.]

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 upon Tuesday the 24th of May, after having been
enlivened by the witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton[1162], Wilkes,
Churchill and Lloyd[1163], with whom I had passed the morning, I boldly
repaired to Johnson. His Chambers were on the first floor of No. 1,
Inner-Temple-lane, and I entered them with an impression given me by the
Reverend Dr. Blair[1164], 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[1165]. At this time the controversy concerning the pieces published
by Mr. James Macpherson, as translations of Ossian[1166], 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 written such
poems? Johnson replied, 'Yes, Sir, many men, many women, and many
children[1167].' 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[1168].'

[Page 397: Christopher Smart's madness. AEtat 54.]

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 unpowdered 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 seemed
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 understanding is not called in question.'

Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher Smart, who was confined in
a mad-house, 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 ale-house; but he
was _carried_ back again. I did not think he ought to be shut up. His
infirmities were not noxious to society. He insisted on people praying
with him[1169]; 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[1170]; 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.'

[Page 398: Johnson's mode of life. A.D. 1763.]

'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 from other motives, "Verily
they have their reward[1171]."

'The Christian religion has very strong evidences[1172]. It, indeed,
appears in some degree strange to reason; but in History we have
undoubted facts, against which, reasoning _a priori_, we have more
arguments than we have for them; but then, testimony has great weight,
and casts the balance. I would recommend to every man whose faith is yet
unsettled, Grotius,--Dr. Pearson,--and Dr. Clarke[1173].'

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 went abroad at four in the afternoon, and
seldom came home till two in the morning[1174]. 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[1175]. 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.

[Page 399: Johnson the horse-rider. AEtat 54.]

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[1176], 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 from him at our 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 then 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.'

[Page 400: A revolution in Boswell's life. A.D. 1763.]

[Page 401: The Mitre. AEtat 54.]

A revolution of some importance in my plan of life had just taken place;
for instead of procuring a commission in the footguards, which was my
own inclination[1177], 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 that 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
amusements of London, that our next meeting was not till Saturday, June
25, when happening to dine at Clifton's eating-house, in Butcher-row[1178],
I was surprized 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 GOD at first created two kinds of men, one black and another
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
naturalists, 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 intemperate 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.

[Page 402: Cibber and Whitehead. A.D. 1763.]

'Colley Cibber[1179], 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 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[1180]. Whitehead is but a
little man to inscribe verses to players.'

I did not presume to controvert this censure, which was tinctured with
his prejudice against players[1181]; 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[1182].

[Page 403: The abruptness of Gray's Ode. AEtat 54.]

'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[1183]. His
_Elegy in a Church-yard_ 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,
Confusion on thy banners wait!"

has been celebrated for its abruptness, and plunging into the subject
all at once[1184]. 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[1185]:

"Is there ever a man in all Scotland
From the highest estate to the lowest degree, &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 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[1186]."'

[Page 404: Boswell opens his mind. A.D. 1763.]

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[1187], 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,
regardless 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 intellectual 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[1188].

[Page 405: The differences of Christians. AEtat 54.]

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 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[1189].

After having given credit to reports of his bigotry, I was agreeably
surprized 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[1190].'

We talked of belief in ghosts. He said, 'Sir, I make a distinction
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 unworthiness 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 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.'

[Page 406: The Cock-lane Ghost. A.D. 1763.]

Here it is proper, once for all, to give a true and fair statement of
Johnson's way of thinking upon the question, whether departed 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, as to make him submit his understanding to what was
authentically proved, though he could not comprehend why it was so.
Being thus disposed, he was willing to inquire into the truth of any
relation of supernatural agency, a general belief of which has prevailed
in all nations and ages[1191]. But so far was he from being the 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[1192],' 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[1193]. 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 undoubted 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[1194]; and in this research he was
assisted by the Reverend Dr. Douglas[1195], 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[1196].