copy of Shakspeare's works presented to you.'' Dr. Johnson smiled benignantly at this, and did not appear to disapprove of the notion. We went to St. Clement's church again in the afternoon, and then returned and drank tea and coffee in Mrs. Williams's room; Mrs. Desmoulins doing the honours of the tea-table. I observed that he would not even look at a proof-sheet of his "Life of Waller" on Good Friday. Mr. Allen, the printer, brought a book on agriculture, which was printed, and was soon to be published. It was a very strange performance, the author having mixed in it his own thoughts upon various topics, along with his remarks on ploughing, sowing, and other farming operations. He seemed to be an absurd profane fellow, and had introduced in his books many sneers at religion, with equal ignorance and conceit. Dr. Johnson permitted me to read some passages aloud. One was that he resolved to work on Sunday, and did work, but he owned he felt some weak compunction; and he had this very curious reflection: "I was born in the wilds of Christianity, and the briars and thorns still hang about me." Dr. Johnson could not help laughing at this ridiculous image, yet was very angry at the fellow's impiety. "However," said he, "the reviewers will make him hang himself." He however observed, "that formerly there might have been a dispensation obtained for working on Sunday in the time of harvest." Indeed, in ritual observances, were all the ministers of religion what they should be, and what many of them are, such a power might be wisely and safely lodged with the church. 2 On Saturday, 18th April, I drank tea with him. He praised the late Mr. Duncombe, of Canterbury, as a pleasing man. 1 This was Marshall's Minutes of Agriculture. The author lived to publish many more important and less offensive works on this subject.— Chalmers. ' In the Injunctions of Queen Elizabeth [following those of Edward VI.] for the observance of Sunday, there was one exception-viz. for labour in time of harvest, after divine service: but which was not provided for in the act 29 Car. 2, c. 7.-Markland. • William Duncombe, Esq. He married the sister of John Hughes, "He used to come to me; I did not seek much after him. Indeed, I never sought much after any body." BOSWELL. "Lord Orrery, I suppose." JOHNSON. "No, Sir; I never went to him but when he sent for me." BoSWELL. "Richardson?" JOHNSON. "Yes, Sir: but I sought after George Psalmanazar the most. I used to go and sit with him at an alehouse in the city."1 I am happy to mention another instance which I discovered of his seeking after a man of merit. Soon after the Honourable Daines Barrington had published his excellent "Observations on the Statutes," Johnson waited on that worthy and learned gentleman; and, having told him his name, courteously said, "I have read your book, Sir, with great pleasure, and wish to be better known to you." Thus began an acquaintance, which was continued with mutual regard as long as Johnson lived. Talking of a recent seditious delinquent,' he said, "They the poet; was the author of two tragedies, and other ingenious productions; and died 26th Feb., 1769, aged 79.—Malone. 1 "This extraordinary person," says Mrs. Piozzi, "lived and died at a house in Old Street, where Dr. Johnson was witness to his talents and virtues, and to his final preference of the Church of England, after having studied, disgraced, and adorned so many modes of worship. The name he went by was not supposed by his friend to be that of his family, but all inquiries were vain: his reasons for concealing his original were penitentiary; he deserved no other name than that of the impostor, he said. His pious and patient endurance of a tedious illness, ending in an exemplary death (1763), confirmed the strong impression his merit had made upon the mind of Dr. Johnson."—Croker. The Memoir of Psalmanazar, written by himself, and published in 1764, though now a neglected piece of biography, will well repay the reader, as it affords much curious information. [See also Smollett's account of him in Humphrey Clinker.]-Markland. 2 Quarto, 1766. The worthy author died March 13, 1800, aged about 74-Malone. Mr. Horne Tooke, who had been in July, 1777 (Gent. Mag.), convicted of a seditious libel. The sentence-pronounced 23rd Novemberwas a year's imprisonment, and £200 fine. It seems strange that Johnson should, in April, 1778, have spoken conjecturally and prospectively of a sentence passed six months before; but this, perhaps, may be accounted for by Tooke's having obtained a writ of error, which suspended the execution of the sentence.-Croker. should set him in the pillory, that he may be punished in a way that would disgrace him." I observed, that the pillory does not always disgrace. And I mentioned an instance of a gentleman,' who I thought was not dishonoured by it. JOHNSON. Ay, but he was, Sir. He could not mouth and strut about as he used to do, after having been there. People are not willing to ask a man to their tables, who has stood in the pillory." The gentleman who had dined with us at Dr. Percy's came in. Johnson attacked the Americans with intemperate vehemence of abuse. I said something in their favour; and added, that I was always sorry when he talked on that subject. This, it seems, exasperated him; though he said nothing at the time. The cloud was charged with sulphureous vapour, which was afterwards to burst in thunder. We talked of a gentleman [Mr. Langton], who was running out his fortune in London; and I said, "We must get him out of it. All his friends must quarrel with him, and that will soon drive him away." JOHNSON. "Nay, Sir, we'll send you to him. If your company does not drive a man out of his house, nothing will." This was a horrible shock, for which there was no visible cause. I afterwards asked him, why he had said so harsh a thing. JOHNSON. "Because, Sir, you made me angry about the Americans." BOSWELL. "But why did you not take your revenge directly?" JOHNSON (Smiling). "Because, Sir, I had nothing ready. A man cannot strike till he has his weapons." This was a candid and pleasant confession. 1 Probably Dr. Shebbeare. It was Shebbeare's exposure on the pillory which suggested the witty allusion of the Heroic Epistle, แ "Does envy doubt? Witness, ye chosen train, But his ears were not endangered; indeed he was so favourably treated, being allowed to stand on, and not in, the pillory, and to have certain other indulgences, that the sheriff was afterwards prosecuted for partiality towards him.-Croker. He showed me to-night his drawing-room, very genteelly fitted up, and said, "Mrs. Thrale sneered, when I talked of my having asked you and your lady to live at my house. I was obliged to tell her, that you would be in as respectable a situation in my house as in hers. Sir, the insolence of wealth will creep out." BOSWELL. "She has a little both of the insolence of wealth and the conceit of parts." JOHNSON. "The insolence of wealth is a wretched thing; but the conceit of parts has some foundation. To be sure, it should not be. But who is without it?" BOSWELL. "Yourself, Sir." JOHNSON. "Why, I play no tricks: I lay no traps." BOSWELL. "No, Sir. You are six feet high, and you only do not stoop." We talked of the numbers of people that sometimes have composed the household of great families. I mentioned that there were a hundred in the family of the present Earl of Eglingtoune's father. Dr. Johnson seeming to doubt it, I began to enumerate; "Let us see, my lord and my lady, two." JOHNSON. "Nay, Sir, if you are to count by twos, you may be long enough." BOSWELL. "Well, but now I add two sons and seven daughters, and a servant for each; that will make twenty; so we have the fifth part already." JOHNSON. "Very true. You get at twenty pretty readily; but you will not so easily get further on. We grow to five feet pretty readily; but it is not so easy to grow to seven." On Sunday, 19th April, being Easter-day, after the solemnities of the festival in St. Paul's church, I visited him, but could not stay to dinner. I expressed a wish to have the arguments for Christianity always in readiness, that my religious faith might be as firm and clear as any proposition whatever; so that I need not be under the least uneasiness when it should be attacked. JOHNSON. "Sir, you cannot answer all objections. You have demonstration for a first cause: you see he must be good as well as powerful, because there is nothing to make him otherwise, and goodness of itself is preferable. Yet you have against this, what is very certain, the unhappiness of human life. This, however, gives us reason to hope for a future state of compensation, that there may be a perfect system. But of that we were not sure, till we had a positive revelation." I told him, that his "Rasselas" had often made me unhappy; for it represented the misery of human life so well, and so convincingly to a thinking mind, that if at any time the impression wore off, and I felt myself easy, I began to suspect some delusion. On Monday, 20th April, I found him at home in the morning. We talked of a gentleman [Mr. Langton] who we apprehended was gradually involving his circumstances by bad management. JOHNSON. "Wasting a fortune is evaporation by a thousand imperceptible means. If it were a stream, they'd stop it. You must speak to him. It is really miserable. Were he a gamester, it could be said he had hopes of winning. Were he a bankrupt in trade, he might have grown rich; but he has neither spirit to spend, nor resolution to spare. He does not spend fast enough to have pleasure from it. He has the crime of prodigality, and the wretchedness of parsimony. If a man is killed in a duel, he is killed as many a one has been killed; but it is a sad thing for a man to lie down and die; to bleed to death, because he has not fortitude enough to sear the wound, or even to stitch it up." I cannot but pause a moment to admire the fecundity of fancy, and choice of language, which in this instance, and, indeed, on almost all occasions, he displayed. It was well observed by Dr. Percy (now Bishop of Dromore), "The conversation of Johnson is strong and clear, and may be compared to an antique statue, where every vein and muscle is distinct and bold. Ordinary conversation resembles an inferior cast." On Saturday, 25th April, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, with the learned Dr. Musgrave; Counsellor Leland of Ireland, son to the historian; Mrs. Cholmondeley, and some more ladies. "The Project," a new poem, was read to the company by Dr. Musgrave. JOHNSON. "Sir, it has no power. 1 The Project, a poem (published anonymously in 1778), by Richard Tickell, author of Anticipation.-Croker. |