content to live in the country.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is in theintellectual world as in the physical world; we are told by naturalphilosophers that a body is at rest in the place that is fit for it;they who are content to live in the country, are _fit_ for the country.'Talking of various enjoyments, I argued that a refinement of taste was adisadvantage, as they who have attained to it must be seldomer pleasedthan those who have no nice discrimination, and are therefore satisfiedwith every thing that comes in their way. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir; that is apaltry notion. Endeavour to be as perfect as you can in every respect.'I accompanied him in Sir Joshua Reynolds's coach, to the entry ofBolt-court. He asked me whether I would not go with him to his house; Ideclined it, from an apprehension that my spirits would sink. We badeadieu to each other affectionately in the carriage. When he had got downupon the foot-pavement, he called out, 'Fare you well;' and withoutlooking back, sprung away with a kind of pathetick briskness, if I mayuse that expression, which seemed to indicate a struggle to concealuneasiness, and impressed me with a foreboding of our long, longseparation.I remained one day more in town, to have the chance of talking over mynegociation with the Lord Chancellor; but the multiplicity of hisLordship's important engagements did not allow of it; so I left themanagement of the business in the hands of Sir Joshua Reynolds.Soon after this time Dr. Johnson had the mortification of being informedby Mrs. Thrale, that, 'what she supposed he never believed[1044],' wastrue; namely, that she was actually going to marry Signor Piozzi, anItalian musick-master[1045]. He endeavoured to prevent it; but in vain.If she would publish the whole of the correspondence that passed betweenDr. Johnson and her on the subject, we should have a full view of hisreal sentiments. As it is, our judgement must be biassed by thatcharacteristick specimen which Sir John Hawkins has given us: 'PoorThrale! I thought that either her virtue or her vice would haverestrained her from such a marriage. She is now become a subject for herenemies to exult over; and for her friends, if she has any left, toforget, or pity[1046].'It must be admitted that Johnson derived a considerable portion ofhappiness from the comforts and elegancies which he enjoyed in Mr.Thrale's family[1047]; but Mrs. Thrale assures us he was indebted forthese to her husband alone, who certainly respected him sincerely. Herwords are,--'_Veneration for his virtue, reverence for his talents_, delight _in hisconversation, and_ habitual endurance of a yoke my husband first putupon me, _and of which he contentedly bore his share for sixteen orseventeen years, made me go on so long with_ Mr. Johnson; _but theperpetual confinement I will own to have been_ terrifying _in the firstyears of our friendship, and_ irksome _in the last; nor could I pretendto support _it without help, when my coadjutor was no more_[1048].'Alas! how different is this from the declarations which I have heardMrs. Thrale make in his life-time, without a single murmur against anypeculiarities, or against any one circumstance which attended theirintimacy[1049].As a sincere friend of the great man whose _Life_ I am writing, I thinkit necessary to guard my readers against the mistaken notion of Dr.Johnson's character, which this lady's _Anecdotes_ of him suggest; forfrom the very nature and form of her book, 'it lends deception lighterwings to fly'.[1050]'Let it be remembered, (says an eminent critick[1051],) that she hascomprised in a small volume all that she could recollect of Dr. Johnsonin _twenty years_, during which period, doubtless, some severe thingswere said by him; and they who read the book in _two hours_, naturallyenough suppose that his whole conversation was of this complexion. Butthe fact is, I have been often in his company, and never _once_ heardhim say a severe thing to any one; and many others can attest thesame[1052]. When he did say a severe thing, it was generally extorted byignorance pretending to knowledge, or by extreme vanity or affectation.'Two instances of inaccuracy, (adds he,) are peculiarly worthy ofnotice:'It is said, _"That natural[1053] roughness of his manner so oftenmentioned, would, notwithstanding the regularity of his notions, burstthrough them all from time to time; and he once bade a very celebratedlady, who praised him with too much zeal perhaps, or perhaps too strongan emphasis, (which always offended him,) consider what her flattery wasworth, before she choaked him with it."_'Now let the genuine anecdote be contrasted with this. The person thusrepresented as being harshly treated, though a very celebratedlady[1054], was _then_ just come to London from an obscure situation inthe country. At Sir Joshua Reynolds's one evening, she met Dr. Johnson.She very soon began to pay her court to him in the most fulsome strain."Spare me, I beseech you, dear Madam," was his reply. She still _laid iton_. "Pray, Madam, let us have no more of this;" he rejoined. Not payingany attention to these warnings, she continued still her eulogy. Atlength, provoked by this indelicate and vain obtrusion of compliment, heexclaimed, "Dearest lady, consider with yourself what your flattery isworth, before you bestow it so freely[1055]."'How different does this story appear, when accompanied with all thesecircumstances which really belong to it, but which Mrs. Thrale eitherdid not know, or has suppressed.'She says, in another place[1056], _"One gentleman, however, who dinedat a nobleman's house in his company, and that of_ Mr. Thrale, _to whomI was obliged for the anecdote, was willing to enter the lists indefence of_ King William's _character; and having opposed andcontradicted_ Johnson _two or three times, petulantly enough, the masterof the house began to feel uneasy, and expect disagreeable consequences;to avoid which, he said, loud enough for the Doctor to hear,--'Ourfriend here has no meaning now in all this, except just to relate atclub to-morrow how he teized_ Johnson _at dinner to-day; this is all todo himself_ honour.' _No, upon my word, (replied the other,') I see no_honour _in it, whatever you may do. Well, Sir, (returned_ Mr. Johnson,_sternly,) if you do not_ see _the honour, I am sure I_ feel _thedisgrace_."'This is all sophisticated. Mr. Thrale was _not_ in the company, thoughhe might have related the story to Mrs. Thrale. A friend, from whom Ihad the story, was present; and it was _not_ at the house of a nobleman.On the observation being made by the master of the house on agentleman's contradicting Johnson, that he had talked for the honour,&c., the gentleman muttered in a low voice, "I see no honour in it;" andDr. Johnson said nothing: so all the rest, (though _bien trouvee_) ismere garnish.'I have had occasion several times, in the course of this work, to pointout the incorrectness of Mrs. Thrale, as to particulars which consistedwith my own knowledge[1057]. But indeed she has, in flippant termsenough, expressed her disapprobation of that anxious desire ofauthenticity which prompts a person who is to record conversations, towrite them down _at the moment_[1058]. Unquestionably, if they are to berecorded at all, the sooner it is done the better. This lady herselfsays[1059],--_'To recollect, however, and to repeat the sayings of_ Dr. Johnson, _isalmost all that can be done by the writers of his Life; as his life, atleast since my acquaintance with him, consisted in little else thantalking, when he was not [absolutely] employed in some serious pieceof work.'_She boasts of her having kept a common-place book[1060]; and we find shenoted, at one time or other, in a very lively manner, specimens of theconversation of Dr. Johnson, and of those who talked with him; but hadshe done it recently, they probably would have been less erroneous; andwe should have been relieved from those disagreeable doubts of theirauthenticity, with which we must now peruse them.She says of him[1061],--_'He was the most charitable of mortals, without being what we call an_active friend. _Admirable at giving counsel; no man saw his way soclearly; but he_ would not stir a finger _for the assistance of those towhom he was willing enough to give advice.'_ And again on the same page,_'If you wanted a slight favour, you must apply to people of otherdispositions; for_ not a step would Johnson move _to obtain a man a votein a society, to repay a compliment which might be useful or pleasing,to write a letter of request, &c., or to obtain a hundred pounds a yearmore for a friend who, perhaps, had already two or three. No force couldurge him to diligence, no importunity could conquer his resolution tostand still.'_It is amazing that one who had such opportunities of knowing Dr.Johnson, should appear so little acquainted with his real character. Iam sorry this lady does not advert, that she herself contradicts theassertion of his being obstinately defective in the _petites morales_,in the little endearing charities of social life, in conferring smallerfavours; for she says[1062],--'Dr. Johnson _was liberal enough in granting literary assistance toothers, I think; and innumerable are the Prefaces, Sermons, Lectures,and Dedications which he used to make for people who begged of him._'I am certain that a _more active friend_ has rarely been found in anyage[1063]. This work, which I fondly hope will rescue his memory fromobloquy, contains a thousand instances of his benevolent exertions inalmost every way that can be conceived; and particularly in employinghis pen with a generous readiness for those to whom its aid could beuseful. Indeed his obliging activity in doing little offices ofkindness, both by letters and personal application, was one of the mostremarkable features in his character; and for the truth of this I canappeal to a number of his respectable friends: Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr.Langton, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Burke, Mr. Windham, Mr. Malone, the Bishop ofDromore, Sir William Scott, Sir Robert Chambers. And can Mrs. Thraleforget the advertisements which he wrote for her husband at the time ofhis election contest[1064]; the epitaphs on him and her mother[1065];the playful and even trifling verses, for the amusement of her and herdaughters; his corresponding with her children[1066], and entering intotheir minute concerns[1067], which shews him in the most amiable light?She relates[1068],--That Mr. Ch-lm-ley unexpectedly rode up to Mr. Thrale's carriage, inwhich Mr. Thrale and she, and Dr. Johnson were travelling; that he paidthem all his proper compliments, but observing that Dr. Johnson, who wasreading, did not see him, _'tapt him gently on the shoulder. "'Tis_ Mr.Ch-lm-ley;" _says my husband. "Well, Sir--and what if it is_ Mr.Ch-lm-ley;" _says the other, sternly, just lifting his eyes a momentfrom his book, and returning to it again, with renewed avidity.'_This surely conveys a notion of Johnson, as if he had been grossly rudeto Mr. Cholmondeley[1069], a gentleman whom he always loved andesteemed. If, therefore, there was an absolute necessity for mentioningthe story at all, it might have been thought that her tenderness for Dr.Johnson's character would have disposed her to state any thing thatcould soften it. Why then is there a total silence as to what Mr.Cholmondeley told her?--that Johnson, who had known him from hisearliest years, having been made sensible of what had doubtless astrange appearance, took occasion, when he afterwards met him, to make avery courteous and kind apology. There is another little circumstancewhich I cannot but remark. Her book was published in 1785, she had thenin her possession a letter from Dr. Johnson, dated in 1777[1070], whichbegins thus:--'Cholmondeley's story shocks me, if it be true, which Ican hardly think, for I am utterly unconscious of it: I am very sorry,and very much ashamed[1071].' Why then publish the anecdote? Or if shedid, why not add the circumstances, with which she was well acquainted!In his social intercourse she thus describes him[1072]:--'_Ever musing till he was called out to converse, and conversing tillthe fatigue of his friends, or the promptitude of his own temper to takeoffence, consigned him back again to silent meditation_.'Yet, in the same book[1073], she tells us,--'_He was, however, seldom inclined to be silent, when any moral orliterary question was started; and it was on such occasions that, likethe Sage in _"Rasselas[1074]," _he spoke, and attention watched hislips; he reasoned, and conviction closed his periods_.'His conversation, indeed, was so far from ever _fatiguing_ his friends,that they regretted when it was interrupted, or ceased, and couldexclaim in Milton's language,--'With thee conversing, I forget all time[1075].'I certainly, then, do not claim too much in behalf of my illustriousfriend in saying, that however smart and entertaining Mrs. Thrale's_Anecdotes_ are, they must not be held as good evidence against him; forwherever an instance of harshness and severity is told, I beg leave todoubt its perfect authenticity; for though there may have been _some_foundation for it, yet, like that of his reproof to the 'very celebratedlady,' it may be so exhibited in the narration as to be very unlike thereal fact.The evident tendency of the following anecdote[1076] is to represent Dr.Johnson as extremely deficient in affection, tenderness, or even commoncivility:--_'When I one day lamented the loss of a first cousin killed in_America,--"_Prithee, my dear, (said he,) have done with canting; howwould the world be the worse for it, I may ask, if all your relationswere at once spitted like larks, and roasted for_ Presto's_supper?"_--Presto[1077] _was the dog that lay under the table whilewe talked._'I suspect this too of exaggeration and distortion. I allow that he madeher an angry speech; but let the circumstances fairly appear, as told byMr. Baretti, who was present:--'Mrs. Thrale, while supping very heartily upon larks, laid down herknife and fork, and abruptly exclaimed, "O, my dear Mr. Johnson, do youknow what has happened? The last letters from abroad have brought us anaccount that our poor cousin's head was taken off by a cannon-ball."Johnson, who was shocked both at the fact, and her light unfeelingmanner of mentioning it, replied, "Madam, it would give _you_ verylittle concern if all your relations were spitted like those larks, anddrest for Presto's supper[1078]."'It is with concern that I find myself obliged to animadvert on theinaccuracies of Mrs. Piozzi's _Anecdotes_, and perhaps I may be thoughtto have dwelt too long upon her little collection. But as from Johnson'slong residence under Mr. Thrale's roof, and his intimacy with her, theaccount which she has given of him may have made an unfavourable andunjust impression, my duty, as a faithful biographer, has obliged mereluctantly to perform this unpleasing task.Having left the _pious negotiation_, as I called it, in the best hands,I shall here insert what relates to it. Johnson wrote to Sir JoshuaReynolds on July 6, as follows:--'I am going, I hope, in a few days, to try the air of Derbyshire, buthope to see you before I go. Let me, however, mention to you what I havemuch at heart. If the Chancellor should continue his attention to Mr.Boswell's request, and confer with you on the means of relieving mylanguid state, I am very desirous to avoid the appearance of askingmoney upon false pretences. I desire you to represent to his Lordship,what, as soon as it is suggested, he will perceive to bereasonable,--That, if I grow much worse, I shall be afraid to leave myphysicians, to suffer the inconveniences of travel, and pine in thesolitude of a foreign country; That, if I grow much better, of whichindeed there is now little appearance, I shall not wish to leave myfriends and my domestick comforts; for I do not travel for pleasure orcuriosity; yet if I should recover, curiosity would revive. In mypresent state, I am desirous to make a struggle for a little longerlife, and hope to obtain some help from a softer climate. Do for mewhat you can.'He wrote to me July 26:--'I wish your affairs could have permitted a longer and continuedexertion of your zeal and kindness. They that have your kindness maywant your ardour. In the mean time I am very feeble and very dejected.'By a letter from Sir Joshua Reynolds I was informed, that the LordChancellor had called on him, and acquainted him that the applicationhad not been successful; but that his Lordship, after speaking highly inpraise of Johnson, as a man who was an honour to his country, desiredSir Joshua to let him know, that on granting a mortgage of his pension,he should draw on his Lordship to the amount of five or six hundredpounds; and that his Lordship explained the meaning of the mortgage tobe, that he wished the business to be conducted in such a manner, thatDr. Johnson should appear to be under the least possible obligation. SirJoshua mentioned, that he had by the same post communicated all this toDr. Johnson.How Johnson was affected upon the occasion will appear from what hewrote to Sir Joshua Reynolds:--'Ashbourne, Sept. 9. Many words I hope are not necessary between you andme, to convince you what gratitude is excited in my heart by theChancellor's liberality, and your kind offices....[1079] I have encloseda letter to the Chancellor, which, when you have read it, you will bepleased to seal with a head, or any other general seal, and convey it tohim: had I sent it directly to him, I should have seemed to overlook thefavour of your intervention.''To THE LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR[1080].MY LORD, After a long and not inattentive observation of mankind, thegenerosity of your Lordship's offer raises in me not less wonder thangratitude[1081]. Bounty, so liberally bestowed, I should gladly receive,if my condition made it necessary; for, to such a mind, who would not beproud to own his obligations? But it has pleased GOD to restore me to sogreat a measure of health, that if I should now appropriate so much of afortune destined to do good, I could not escape from myself the chargeof advancing a false claim. My journey to the continent, though I oncethought it necessary, was never much encouraged by my physicians; and Iwas very desirous that your Lordship should be told of it by Sir JoshuaReynolds, as an event very uncertain; for if I grew much better, Ishould not be willing, if much worse, not able, to migrate. YourLordship was first solicited without my knowledge; but, when I was toldthat you were pleased to honour me with your patronage, I did not expectto hear of a refusal; yet, as I have had no long time to brood hope, andhave not rioted in imaginary opulence, this cold reception has beenscarce a disappointment; and, from your Lordship's kindness, I havereceived a benefit, which only men like you are able to bestow. I shallnow live _mihi carior_, with a higher opinion of my own merit.'I am, my Lord,Your Lordship's most obliged,Most grateful, andMost humble servant,SAM. JOHNSON.''September, 1784.'Upon this unexpected failure I abstain from presuming to make anyremarks, or to offer any conjectures.[1082]Having after repeated reasonings[1083], brought Dr. Johnson to agree tomy removing to London, and even to furnish me with arguments in favourof what he had opposed; I wrote to him requesting he would write themfor me; he was so good as to comply, and I shall extract that part ofhis letter to me of June 11[1084], as a proof how well he could exhibita cautious yet encouraging view of it:--'I remember, and intreat you to remember, that _virtus est vitiumfugere_[1085]; the first approach to riches is security from poverty.The condition on which you have my consent to settle in London is, thatyour expence never exceeds your annual income. Fixing this basis ofsecurity, you cannot be hurt, and you may be very much advanced. Theloss of your Scottish business, which is all that you can lose, is notto be reckoned as any equivalent to the hopes and possibilities thatopen here upon you. If you succeed, the question of prudence is at anend; every body will think that done right which ends happily; andthough your expectations, of which I would not advise you to talk toomuch, should not be totally answered, you can hardly fail to get friendswho will do for you all that your present situation allows you to hope;and if, after a few years, you should return to Scotland, you willreturn with a mind supplied by various conversation, and manyopportunities of enquiry, with much knowledge, and materials forreflection and instruction.'Let us now contemplate Johnson thirty years after the death of his wife,still retaining for her all the tenderness of affection.'TO THE REVEREND MR. BAGSHAW, AT BROMLEY[1086].'SIR,'Perhaps you may remember, that in the year 1753[1087], you committed tothe ground my dear wife. I now entreat your permission to lay a stoneupon her; and have sent the inscription, that, if you find it proper,you may signify your allowance.'You will do me a great favour by showing the place where she lies, thatthe stone may protect her remains.'Mr. Ryland[1088] will wait on you for the inscription[1089], andprocure it to be engraved. You will easily believe that I shrink fromthis mournful office. When it is done, if I have strength remaining, Iwill visit Bromley once again, and pay you part of the respect to whichyou have a right from, Reverend Sir,