Life of Samuel Johnson, Vol. I — Part 31

[Page 471: Bishop Berkley's sophistry.

Ætat 54. ] 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 opportunity of returning to London, and be confined to so dull a place.

JOHNSON.

'Don't, Sir, accustom yourself to use big words for little matters[1384].

It would _not_ be _terrible_, though I _were_ 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.'

[Page 472: Boswell embarks for Holland.

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1763. ] 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 _thus_[1385].'

This was a stout exemplification of the _first truths of Pere Bouffier_[1386], 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 him from calm philosophy aside[1387].'

What an admirable display of subtilty, united with brilliance, might his contending with Berkeley have afforded us[1388]!

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[1389]?'

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 you.'

As the vessel put out to sea, I kept my eyes upon him for a considerable time, while he remained rolling his majestick frame in his usual manner: and at last I perceived him walk back into the town, and he disappeared[1390].

[Page 473: Johnson's first letter to Boswell.

Ætat 54. ] 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. BOSWELL, À 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.

[Page 474: Boswell's character sketched by Johnson.

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1763. ] '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 sat last together, and that your acquaintance continue to speak of you with their former kindness, topicks with which 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 recommend.

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 predominant 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.

[Page 475: The Frisick language.

Ætat 54. ] '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 aversion, and another actuate desires, till they rise 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, while he was chill, was harmless; but when warmth gave him strength, exerted it in poison.

You know a gentleman, who, when 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 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 tumult of diversion, that knowledge and those accomplishments which mortals 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 concluded 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 study to-morrow; not that you are to expect that you shall at once obtain a complete victory.

Depravity is not very easily overcome.

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 observations 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 Sir, 'Your most affectionate servant, 'SAM.

JOHNSON.'

'London, Dec.

8, 1763.' 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.

[Page 476: Johnson's visit to Langton.

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1764. ] '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 _Beschryvinge van die Heerlykheid van Friesland_; and his _Historia Frisica_.

I have not yet been able to find these books.

Professor 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 at this day, I have procured a specimen.

It is _Gisbert Japix's Rymelerie_, which is the only book that they have.

It is amazing, that they have no translation of the bible, no treatises of devotion, nor even any of the ballads and storybooks which are so agreeable to country people.

You shall have _Japix_ by the first convenient opportunity.

I doubt not to pick up _Schotanus_.

Mynheer Trotz has promised me his assistance.'

1764: ÆTAT.

55. ] 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[1391].

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[1392],' 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[1393].

Johnson, during his stay at Langton, had the advantage of a good library, and saw several gentlemen of the neighbourhood.

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[1394]; 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.'

[Page 477: The Literary Club.

Ætat 55. ] 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[1395]?'

[Page 478: The Literary Club.

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1764. ] [Page 479: List of the members.

Ætat 55. ] 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[1396].

Sir Joshua Reynolds had the merit of being the first proposer of it[1397], to which Johnson acceded, and the original members were, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Edmund Burke, Dr. Nugent[1398], Mr. Beauclerk, Mr. Langton, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier[1399], and Sir John Hawkins[1400].

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[1401].

This club has been gradually increased to its present number, thirty-five[1402].

After about ten years, instead of supping weekly, it was resolved to dine together once a fortnight 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 [1403].

Between the time of its formation, and the time at which this work is passing through the press, (June 1792,)[1404] 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 Charlemont, Sir Robert Chambers, Dr. Percy Bishop of Dromore, Dr. Barnard Bishop of Killaloe, Dr. Marlay Bishop of Clonfert, Mr. Fox, Dr. George Fordyce, Sir William Scott, Sir Joseph Banks, Sir Charles Bunbury, Mr. Windham of Norfolk, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Gibbon, Sir William Jones, Mr. Colman, 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 William Hamilton, Dr. Warren, Mr. Courtenay, Dr. Hinchcliffe Bishop of Peterborough, the Duke of Leeds, Dr. Douglas Bishop of Salisbury, and the writer of this account.

[Page 480: Garrick and the Literary Club.

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1764. ] Sir John Hawkins[1405] represents himself as a '_seceder_' from this society, and assigns as the reason of his '_withdrawing_' 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[1406].

He is equally inaccurate with respect to Mr. Garrick, of whom he says, 'he trusted that the least intimation of a desire to come 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[1407].'

[Page 481: Grainger's Sugar Cane.

Ætat 55. ] 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'll be of us_, (said Johnson) how does he know we will _permit_ him?

The first Duke in England has no right to hold such language.'

However, when Garrick was regularly proposed some time afterwards, 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.

[1408] Surely, one ought to sit in a society like ours, 'Unelbow'd by a gamester, pimp, or player[1409].'

I am happy to be enabled by such unquestionable authority as that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, as well as from my own knowledge, to vindicate at once the heart of Johnson and the social merit of Garrick[1410].

[Page 482: Johnson's self-accusations.

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1764. ] In this year, except what he may have done in revising _Shakspeare_, we do not find that he laboured much in literature.

He 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 it distinctly, for it appears to be mostly, if not altogether, his own[1411].

He also wrote in _The Critical Review_, an account of Goldsmith's excellent poem, _The Traveller_[1412].

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[1413].'

And next morning he thus feelingly complains:-- '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, 'This is not the life to which heaven is promised[1414];' and he earnestly resolves an amendment.

[Page 483: A severe attack of hypochondria.

Ætat 55. ] 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[1415]:--'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.

0 GOD, grant me to resolve aright, and to keep my resolutions, for JESUS CHRIST'S sake.

Amen[1416].'

Such a tenderness of conscience, 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.

He was so ill, as, notwithstanding his remarkable love of company, to be entirely averse to society, the most fatal symptom 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 deplorable 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[1417].'

[Page 484: Johnson's particularities.

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1764. ] 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[1418].

His friend Mr. Thomas Davies, of whom Churchill says, 'That Davies hath a very pretty wife[1419],'