edition of Bacon, at least of his English | said after his death. Sir, I would have gone works, and writing the Life of that great to the world's end to relieve him. The re man. Had he executed this intention, there mark about the dog, if made by me was such can be no doubt that he would have done it a sally as might escape one when painting a man highly. in a most masterly manner. Mallet's Life of Bacon has no inconsiderable merit as an acute and elegant dissertation relative to its subject; but Mallet's mind was not comprehensive enough to embrace the vast extent of Lord Verulam's genius and research. Dr. Warburton therefore observed, with witty justness, "that Mallet in his Life of Bacon had forgotten that he was a philosopher; and if he should write the Life of the Duke of Marlborough, which he had undertaken to do, he would probably forget that he was a General." Wishing to be satisfied what degree of truth there was in a story which a friend of Johnson's and mine had told told me to his disadvantage, I mentioned it to him in direct terms; and it was to this effect: that a gentleman who had lived in great intimacy with him, shewn him much kindness, and even relieved him from a spunging-house, having afterwards fallen into bad circumstances, was one day, when Johnson was at dinner with him, seized for debt, and carried to prison; that Johnson sat still undisturbed, and went on eating and drinking; upon which the gentleman's sister, who was present, could not suppress her indignation; "What, Sir (said she,) are you so unfeeling, as not even to offer to go to my brother in his distress; you who have been so much obliged to him?" And that Johnson answered, Madam, I owe him no obligation; what he did for me he would have done for a dog." Johnson assured me, that the story was absolutely false but like a man conscious of being in the right, and desirous of completely vindicating himself from such a charge, he did not arrogantly rest on a mere denial, and on his general character, but proceeded thus:-"Sir, I was very intimate with that gentleman, and was once relieved by him from an arrest; but I never was present when he was arrested, never knew that he was arrested, and I believe he never was in difficulties after the time when he relieved me. I loved him much: yet, in talking of his general character, I may have said, though I do not remember that I ever did say so, that as his generosity proceeded from no principle, but was a part of his profusion, he would do for a dog what he would do for a friend: but I never applied this remark to any particular instance, and certainly not to his kindness to me. fuse man, who does not value and gives a large sum to a whore, gives half as much, or an equally large sum to relieve a friend, it cannot be esteemed as virtue. On Tuesday, September 23, Johnson was remarkably cordial to me. It being neces sary for me to return to Scotland soun, I had fixed on the next day for my setting out, and I felt a tender concern at the thought of parting with him. He had, at this time, frankly communicated to me many particu lars, which are inserted in this work in their proper places; and once, when I happened to mention that the expense of my jaunt would come to much more than I had computed, he said, “ Why, Sir, if the expense were to be an inconvenience, you would have reason to regret it: but, if you have had the money to spend, I know not that you could have purchased as much pleasure with it in any other way." During this interview at Ashbourne, Johnson and I frequently talked with won derful pleasure of mere trifles which had occurred in our tour to the Hebrides; for it had left a most agreeable and lasting impres sion upon his mind. He found fault with me for using the phrase to make money. "Don't you see (said he) the impropriety of it? To make money is to coin it; you should say get mo ney.' The phrase, however, is, I think, pretty current. But Johnson was at all times jealous of infractions upon the genu ine English Language, and prompt to repress colloquial barbarisms; such as pledg ing myself, for undertaking; line, for depart. ment, or branch, as, the civil line, the banking line. He was particularly indignant against the almost universal use of the word idea in the sense of notion or opinion, when it is clear that idea can only signify something of which an image can be formed in the mind. We may have an idea or image of a mountain, a tree, a building; but we cannot surely have an idea or image of an argument or propo sition. Yet we hear the sages of the law "delivering their ideas upon the question under consideration;" and the first speakers in parliament "entirely coinciding in the idea which has been ably stated by an ho nourable member;" or "reprobating an most dangerous consequences to a great and idea unconstitutional, and fraught with the free country." Johnson called this ** mdern cant." " | I perceived that he pronounced the word heard, as if spelt, with a double e, heerd, inIf a pro- stead of sounding it herd, as is most usually were pronounced herd, there would be a if it This was all that I could say of that gentle- quently written, as doubtless it was pronounced, kard. [In the age of Queen Elizabeth this word was fre man; and, if said at all, it must have been M.] single exception from the English pronunciation of the syllable ear, and he thought it better not to have that exception. He praised Grainger's "Ode on Solitude," in Dodsley's collection, and repeated, with great energy, the exordium: "O Solitude, romantic maid, Whether by nodding towers you tread, Or climb the Andes' clifted side, Or, starting from your half-year's sleep, observing, "This, Sir, is very noble." In the evening our gentleman-farmer, and two others, entertained themselves and the company with a great number of tunes on the fiddle. Johnson desired to have" Let ambition fire thy mind" played over again, and appeared to give a patient attention to it; though he owned to me that he was very insensible to the power of music. I told him that it affected me to such a degree, as often to agitate my nerves painfully, producing in my mind alternate sensations of pathetic dejection, so that I was ready to shed tears; and of daring resolution, so that I was inclined to rush into the thickest part of the battle. "Sir, (said he,) I should never hear it, if it made me such a fool." Much of the effect of music, I am satisfied, is owing to the association of ideas. That air, which instantly and irresistibly excites in the Swiss, when in a foreign land, the maladie du pais, has, I am told, no intrinsic power of sound. And I know from my own experience, that Scotch reels, though brisk, make me melancholy, because I used to hear them in my early years, at a time when Mr. Pitt called for soldiers "from the mountains of the north," and numbers of brave Highlanders were going abroad, never to return. Whereas the airs in "The Beggar's Opera," many of which are very soft, never fail to render me gay, because they are associated with the warm sensations and high spirits of London.-This evening, while some of the tunes of ordinary composition were played with no great skill, my frame was agitated, and I was conscious of a generous attachment to Dr. Johnson, as my preceptor and friend, mixed with an affectionate regret that he was an old man, whom I should probably lose in a short time. I thought I could defend him at the point of my sword. My reverence and affection for him were in full glow. I said to him, "My dear Sir, we must meet every year, if you don't quarrel with me." JOHNSON: "Nay, Sir, you are more likely to quarrel with me, than I with you. My regard for you is greater almost than I have words to express; but I do not choose to be always repeating it; write it down in the first leaf of your pocket-book, and never doubt of it again." I talked to him of misery being the "doom of man," in this life, as displayed in his "Vanity of Human Wishes." Yet I observed that things were done upon the supposition of happiness; grand houses were built, fine gardens were made, splendid places of public amusement were contrived, and crowded with company. JOHNSON: Alas, Sir, these are all only struggles for happiness. When I first entered Ranelagh, it gave an expansion and gay sensation to my mind, such as I never experienced any where else. But, as Xerxes wept when he viewed his immense army, and considered that not one of that great multitude would be alive a hundred years afterwards, so it went to my heart to consider that there was not one in all that brilliant circle, that was not afraid to go home and think; but that. the thoughts of each individual there would be distressing when alone." This reflection was experimentally just. The feeling of languor, which succeeds the animation of gaiety, is itself a very severe pain; and when the mind is then vacant, a thousand disappointments and vexations rush in and excruciate. Will not many even of my fairest readers allow this to be true? I suggested, that being in love, and flattered with hopes of success; or having some favourite scheme in view for the next day, might prevent that wretchedness of which we had been talking. JOHNSON: "Why, Sir, it may sometimes be so as you suppose; but my conclusion is in general but too true." While Johnson and I stood in calm conference by ourselves in Dr. Taylor's garden, at a pretty late hour in a serene autumn night, looking up to the heavens, I directed the discourse to the subject of a future state. My friend was in a placid and most benignant frame of mind. "Sir, (said he,) I do not imagine that all things will be made clear to us immediately after death, but that the ways of Providence will be explained to us very gradually." I ventured to ask him whether, although the words of some texts of Scripture seemed strong in support of the dreadful doctrine of an eternity of punishment, we might not hope that the denunciation was figurative, and would not literally be executed. JOHNSON: "Sir, you are to consider the intention of punishment in a future state. We have no reason to be sure that we shall then be no longer liable to offend against GOD. We do not know that even the angels are quite in a state of security; nay, we know that some of them have fallen. It may therefore, perhaps, be necessary, in order to preserve both men and angels in a state of rectitude, that they should have continually before them the punishment of those who have deviated from it; but we may hope that by some other means a fall from rectitude may be prevented. Some of the texts of Scripture, upon this subject, are, as you observe, indeed strong; but they may admit of a mitigated interpretation." He talked to me upon this awful and delicate question in a gentle tone, and as if afraid to be decisive. After supper I accompanied him to his apartment, and at my request he dictated to me an argument in favour of the negro who was then claiming his liberty, in an ac-parently injurious to the rights of mankind, tion in the Court of Session in Scotland. He had always been very zealous against slavery in every form, in which I with all deference thought that he discovered "a zeal without knowledge." Upon one occasion, when in company with some very grave men at Oxford, his toast was, "Here's to the next insurrection of the negroes in the West Indies." His violent prejudice against our West Indian and American settlers appeared whenever there was an opportunity. Towards the conclusion of his Taxation no Tyranny," he says, "How is it that we hear the loudest yelps for liberty among the drivers of negroes ?" and in his conversation with Mr. Wilkes he asked, "Where did Beckford and Trecothick learn English?" That Trecothick could both speak and write good English, is well known. I myself was favoured with his correspondence concerning the brave Corsicans. And that Beckford could speak it with a spirit of honest resolution even to his Majesty, as his "faithful Lord Mayor of London," is commemorated by the noble monument erected to him in Guildhall. The argument dictated by Dr. Johnson, was as follows: "It must be agreed, that in most ages many countries have had part of their inhabitants in a state of slavery; yet it may be doubted whether slavery can ever be supposed the natural condition of man. It is impossible not to conceive that men in their original state were equal; and very difficult to imagine how one would be subjected to another but by violent compulsion. An individual may, indeed, forfeit his liberty by a crime; but he cannot by that crime forfeit the liberty of his children. What is true of a criminal seems true likewise of a captive. A man may accept life from a conquering enemy, on condition of perpetual servitude; but it is very doubtful whether he can entail that servitude on his descend • See page 311. ants; for no man can stipulate without com. mission for another. The condition which he himself accepts, his son or grandson per haps would have rejected. If we should admit, what perhaps may with more reason be denied, that there are certain relations be tween man and man which may make slavery necessary and just, yet it can never be proved that he who is now suing for his freedom ever stood in any of those relations. He is certainly subject by no law, but that of violence, to his present master; who pretends no claim to his obedience, but that he bought him from a merchant of slaves, whose right to sell him never was examined. It is said that according to the constitutions of Jamaica he was legally enslaved; these constitutions are merely positive; and ap because whoever is exposed to sale is condemned to slavery without appeal; by whatever fraud or violence he might have been originally brought into the merchant's power. In our own time Princes have been sold, by wretches to whose care they were intrusted, that they might have a European education; but when once they were brought to a market in the plantations, little would avail either their dignity or their wrongs. The laws of Jamaica afford a negro no redress His colour is considered as a sufficient tes timony against him. It is to be lamented that moral right should ever give way to political convenience. But if temptations of interest are sometimes too strong for human virtue, let us at least retain a virtue where there is no temptation to quit it. In the present case there is apparent right on one side, and no convenience on the other. Inhabitants of this island can neither gain riches nor power by taking away the liberty of any part of the human species. The sum of the argument is this:- No man is by nature the property of another: The defend. ant is, therefore, by nature free: The rights of nature must be some way forfeited be fore they can be justly taken away: That the defendant has by any act forfeited the rights of nature, we require to be proved; and if no proof of such forfeiture can be given, we doubt not but the justice of the court will declare him free." I record Dr. Johnson's argument fairly upon this particular case; where, perhaps he was in the right. But I beg leave to enter my most solemn protest against his general doctrine with respect to the Store Trade. For I will resolutely say that his unfavourable notion of it was owing to prejudice, and imperfect or false information. The wild and dangerous attempt which has for some time been persisted in to obtain an act of our Legislature, to abolish so very important and necessary a branch of commercial interest, must have been crushed at once, had not the insignificance of the| -shut the gates of mercy on mankind.” Whatever may have passed elsewhere concerning it, the HOUSE OF LORDS is wise and independent: Intaminatis fulget honoribus; Nec sumit aut ponit secures I have read, conversed, and thought much upon the subject, and would recommend to all who are capable of conviction, an excellent Tract by my learned aud ingenious friend John Ranby, Esq. entitled "Doubts on the Abolition of the Slave Trade." To Mr. Ranby's "Doubts," I will apply Lord Chancellor Hardwicke's expression in praise of a Scotch Law Book, called "Dirleton's Doubts;""His Doubts (said his Lordship) are better than most people's Certainties." When I said now to Johnson, that I was afraid I kept him too late up, "No, Sir, (said he,) I don't care though I sit all night with you." This was an animated speech from a man in his sixty-ninth year. Had I been as attentive not to displease him as I ought to have been, I know not but this vigil might have been fulfilled; but I unluckily entered upon the controversy concerning the right of Great Britain to tax America, and attempted to argue in favour of our fellow-subjects on the other side of the Atlantic. I insisted that America might be very well governed, and made to yield sufficient revenue by the means of influence, as exemplified in Ireland, while the people might be pleased with the imagination of their participating of the British constitution, by having a body of represen tatives, without whose consent money could not be exacted from them. Johnson could Horat. Carm. 1. III. Od. II. 18. not bear my thus opposing his avowed opi. nion, which he had exerted himself with an extreme degree of heat to enforce; and the violent agitation into which he was thrown, while answering, or rather reprimanding me, alarmed me so, that I heartily repented of my having unthinkingly introduced the subject. I myself, however, grew warm, and the change was great, from the calm state of philosophical discussion in which we had a little before been pleasingly employed. I talked of the corruption of the British Parliament, in which I alleged that any question, however unreasonable or unjust, might be carried by a venal majority; and I spoke with high admiration of the Roman Senate, as if composed of men sincerely desirous to resolve what they should think best for their country. My friend would allow no such character to the Roman Senate; and he maintained that the British Parlia ment was not corrupt, and that there was no occasion to corrupt its members; asserting, that there was hardly ever any question of great importance before Parliament, any question in which a man might not very well vote either upon one side or the other. He said there had been none in his time except that respecting America. We were fatigued by the contest, which was produced by my want of caution; and he was not then in the humour to slide into easy and cheerful talk. It therefore so happened, that we were, after an hour or two, very willing to separate and go to bed. On Wednesday, September 24, I went into Dr. Johnson's room before he got up, and finding that the storm of the preceding night was quite laid, I sat down upon his bed-side, and he talked with as much readiness and good humour as ever. He recommended me to plant a considerable part of a large moorish farm which I had purchased, and he made several calculations of the expense and profit; for he delighted in exercising his mind on the science of numbers. He pressed upon me the importance o planting at the first in a very sufficient manner, quoting the saying "In bello non licet bis errare:" and adding, "this is equally true in planting.' 99 I spoke with gratitude of Dr. Taylor's hospitality; and as evidence that it was not on account of his good table alone that John. son visited him often, I mentioned a little anecdote which had escaped my friend's recollection, and at hearing which repeated, he smiled. One evening, when I was sitting with him, Frank delivered this message; "Sir, Dr. Taylor sends his compliments to you, and begs you will dine with him to morrow. He has got a hare." My com. pliments, (said Johnson,) and I'll dine with im-hare or rabbit." After breakfast I departed, and pursued my journey northwards. I took my post From this weeting at Asbourne I derived a tuwdisatie weston to my Johnwotion I commanicated my original Journal to hir William kortes, in whom I have always paced deserved confidence; and what he wrote to me concerning it is so much to my credit as the blographer of Johnson, that my readers will, I hope, grant me their indigence for here inserting it: "It is not once or twice going over it, (says Sir WilJim, that will satisfy me; for I find in it a high degree of instruction as well as entertainment; and I derive more benefit from Dr. Johnson's admirable discussions than I should be able to draw from his personal conversation; for, I suppose there is not a man in the world to whom he discloses his sentiments so freely as to yourself." I cannot omit a curious circumstance which occurred at Edensor-inn, close by Chatsworth, to survey the magnificence of which I had gone a considerable way out of my road to Scotland. The inn was then kept by a very jolly landlord, whose name, I think, was Malton. He happened to mention, that "the celebrated Dr. Johnson had been in his house." I inquired who this Dr. Johnson was, that I might hear my host's notion of him. "Sir, (said he,) Johnson, the great writer; Oddity, as they call him. He's the greatest writer in England; he writes for the ministry; he has a correspondence abroad, and lets them know what's going on." My friend, who had a thorough dependance upon the authenticity of my relation without any embellishment, as falsehood or fiction is too gently called, laughed a good deal at this representation of himself. "MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON. MY DEAR SIR, "Edinburgh, Sep. 29, 1777, "By the first post I inform you of my 1 the exramai men mesues I had mentined to me of the gentleman vil at ut me the i much to his safranare, die midd he had computerT TEST: 3 2 having dice s m le meri s breath of crobience at det me vhuse society I valled:-therefre amety re questing that no more mile f to any body, till I shroud de in Laun of have an opportunity to talk in verwith the gentleman.] "TO JAMES BOSWELL, ISQ "DEAR SIR, "You will wonder, or you have wondered, why no letter has come from me. What you wrote at your return, had an it such a strain I could not well do what you wished; I had of cowardly caution as gave me no plosure no need to vex you with a refusal. I have seen Mr. set all right, without any inconvenience, so , and, as to him have far as I know, to you. Mrs. Thrale had for got the story. You may now be at ease. "And at ease I certainly wish you, for the kindness that you shewed in coming st long a journey to see me. keep you so long in pain, but, upon review It was pity to ing the matter, I do not see what I could have done better than I did. "I hope you found at your return my dear enemy, and all her little people, quite well, and had no reason to repent of your journey. I think on it with great gratitude Doctor's, and I grew worse; yet I stayed "I was not well when you left me at the on, and at Lichfield was very ill. Travel ling, however, did not make me worse; and when I came to London, I complied with a summons to go to Brighthelmstone, where I saw Beauclerk, and stayed three days. "Our CLUB has recommenced last Friday, but I was not there. Langton has another |