During all the time in which Dr. Johnson was employed in relating to the circle at Sir Joshua Reynolds's the particulars of what passed between the King and him, Dr. Goldsmith remained unmoved upon a fopha at fome distance, affecting not to join in the least in the eager curiosity of the company. He assigned as a reason for his gloom and seeming inattention, that he apprehended Johnson had relinquished his purpose of furnishing him with a Prologue to his play, with the hopes of which he had been flattered; but it was strongly fuspected that he was fretting with chagrin and envy at the fingular honour Dr. Johnfon had lately enjoyed. At length, the frankness and fimplicity of his natural character prevailed. He sprung from the sopha, advanced to Johnfon, and in a kind of flutter, from imagining himself in the fituation which he had just been hearing described, exclaimed, "Well, you acquitted yourself in this conversation better than I should have done; for I should have bowed and stammered through the whole of it." I received no letter from Johnson this year; nor have I discovered any of the correfpondence he had, except the two letters to Mr. Drummond, which have been inferted, for the fake of connection with that to the fame gentleman in 1766. His diary affords no light as to his employment at this time. He pafied three months at Lichfield; and I cannot omit an affecting and folemn scene there, as related by himfelf: " Sunday, Oct. 18, 1767. Yesterday, Oct. 17, at about ten in the morning, I took my leave for ever of my dear old friend, Catherine Chambers, who came to live with my mother about 1724, and has been but little parted, from us fince. She buried my father, my brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-eight years old. " I defired all to withdraw, then told her that we were to part for ever; that as Christians, we should part with prayer; and that I would, if she was willing, fay a fhort prayer beside her. She expressed great defire to hear me; and held up her poor hands, as the lay in bed, with great fervour, while I prayed, kneeling by her, nearly in the following words: Almighty and most merciful Father, whose loving-kindness is over all thy works, behold, visit, and relieve this thy fervant, who is grieved with fickness. Grant that the fenfe of her weakness may add ftrength to her faith, and ferioufness to her repentance. And grant that by the help of thy Holy Spirit, after the pains and labours of this short life, we may all obtain everlafting happiness, through JESUS CHRIST our Lord; for whose fake hear our prayers. Amen. Our Father, &c. Talking of fome of the modern plays, he said "False Delicacy" was 1768. totally void of character. He praised Goldsmith's "Good-natured Man;" Ætat. 59. faid, it was the best comedy that had appeared since "The Provoked Hufband," and that there had not been of late any fuch character exhibited on the stage as that of Croaker. I observed it was the Suspirius of his Rambler. He said, Goldsmith had owned he had borrowed it from thence. " Sir, (continued he,) there is all the difference in the world between characters of nature and characters of manners; and there is the difference between the characters of Fielding and those of Richardfon. Characters of manners are very entertaining; but they are to be understood, by a more fuperficial observer, than characters of nature, where a man must dive into the recesses of the human heart." * It is proper here to mention, that when I speak of his correspondence, I confider it independent of the voluminous collection of letters which, in the course of many years, he wrote to Mrs. Thrale, which forms a feparate part of his works; and as a proof of the high estimation fet on any thing which came from his pen, was fold by that lady for the fum of five hundred pounds. through " I then kissed her. She told me, that to part was the greatest pain that she had ever felt, and that she hoped we should meet again in a better place. I expressed, with swelled eyes, and great emotion of tenderness, the fame hopes. We kissed, and parted. I humbly hope to meet again, and to part no more 9." By those who have been taught to look upon Johnson as a man of a harsh and stern character, let this tender and affectionate scene be candidly read; and let them then judge whether more warmth of heart, and grateful kindness, is often found in human nature. We have the following notice in his devotional record : August 2, 1767. I have been disturbed and unfettled for a long time, and have been without resolution to apply to study or to business, being hindered by fudden snatches '." He, however, furnished Mr. Adams with a Dedication* to the King of that ingenious gentleman's " Treatise on the Globes," conceived and expressed in fuch a manner as could not fail to be very grateful to a monarch, distinguished for his love of the sciences. This year was published a ridicule of his style, under the title of " Lexiphanes." Sir John Hawkins ascribes it to Dr. Kenrick, but its authour was one Campbell, a Scotch purfer in the navy. The ridicule consisted in applying Johnson's " words of large meaning," to infignificant matters, as if one should put the armour of Goliath upon a dwarf. The contrast might be laughable; but the dignity of the armour must remain the fame in all confiderate minds. This malicious drollery, therefore, it may easily be supposed, could do no harm to its illustrious object. 1767. Etat. 58. It appears from his notes of the state of his mind, that he fuffered great 1768. perturbation and distraction in 1768. Nothing of his writing was given to the publick this year, except the Prologue* to his friend Goldsmith's comedy of "The Good-natured Man." The first lines of this Prologue are strongly characteristical of the dismal gloom of his mind; which in his cafe, as in the cafe of all who are distressed with the fame malady of imagination, transfers to others its own feelings. Who could suppose that it was to introduce a comedy, when Mr. Bensley folemnly began, "Press'd with the load of life, the weary mind but this dark ground might make Goldsmith's humour shine the more. • Prayers and Meditations, p. 77 and 78. • Ibid. p. 73. 2 Ibid. p. 81. In 1768. Ætat. 59. In the spring of this year, having published my "Account of Corsica, with the Journal of a Tour to that Island," I returned to London, very defirous to fee Dr. Johnfon, and hear him upon the subject. I found he was at Oxford, with his friend Mr. Chambers, who was now Vinerian Professor, and lived in New Inn Hall. Having had no letter from him since that in which he criticised the Latinity of my Thesis, and having been told by fomebody that he was offended at my having put into my book an extract of his letter to me at Paris, I was impatient to be with him, and therefore followed him to Oxford, where I was entertained by Mr. Chambers, with a civility which I shall ever gratefully remember. I found that Dr. Johnson had fent a letter to me to Scotland, and that I had nothing to complain of but his being more indifferent to my anxiety than I wished him to be. Instead of giving, with the circumstances of time and place, such fragments of his conversation as I preserved during this vifit to Oxford, I shall throw them together in continuation. I asked him whether, as a moralist, he did not think that the practice of the law, in fome degree, hurt the nice feeling of honesty. JOHNSON. "Why no, Sir, if you act properly. You are not to deceive your clients with false representations of your opinion: you are not to tell lies to a judge." BOSWELL. "But what do you think of supporting a cause which you know to be bad?" JOHNSON. "Sir, you do not know it to be good or bad till the Judge deter mines it. I have faid that you are to ftate facts fairly; fo that your thinking, or what you call knowing a cause to be bad, must be from reasoning, must be from your fuppofing your arguments to be weak and inconclusive. But, Sir, that is not enough. An argument which does not convince yourself, may convince the Judge to whom you urge it: and if it does convince him, why then, Sir, you are wrong, and he is right. It is his business to judge; and you are not to be confident in your own opinion that a cause is bad, but to say all you can for your client, and then hear the Judge's opinion." BOSWELL. "But, Sir, does not affecting a warmth when you have no warmth, and appearing to be clearly of one opinion when you are in reality of another opinion, does not fuch diffimulation impair one's honesty? Is there not fome danger that a lawyer may put on the fame mask in common life, in the intercourse with his friends?" JOHNSON. "Why no, Sir. Every body knows you are paid for affecting warmth for your client; and it is, therefore, properly no diffimulation: the moment you come from the bar you refume your usual behaviour. Sir, a man will no more carry the artifice of the bar into the common intercourse of fociety, than a man who is paid for tumbling upon his hands will continue to tumble upon his hands when he should walk on his feet." It always appeared to me that he estimated the compofitions of Richardfon too highly, and that he had an unreasonable prejudice against Fielding. In comparing those two writers, he used this expression; "that there was as great a difference between them as between a man who knew how a watch was made, and a man who could tell the hour by looking on the dial-plate." This was a short and figurative state of his distinction between drawing characters of nature and characters only of manners. But I cannot help being of opinion, that the neat watches of Fielding are as well constructed as the large clocks of Richardson, and that his dial-plates are brighter. Fielding's characters, though they do not expand themselves so widely in difsertation, are as just pictures of human nature, and I will venture to say, have more striking features, and nicer touches of the pencil; and though Johnfon used to quote with approbation a saying of Richardson's, " that the virtues of Fielding's heroes were the vices of a truly good man," I will venture to add, that the moral tendency of Fielding's writings, though it does not encourage a strained and rarely possible virtue, is ever favourable to honour and honesty, and cherishes the benevolent and generous affections. He who is as good as Fielding would make him, is an amiable member of society, and may be led on by more regulated inftructors, to a higher state of ethical perfection. Johnson proceeded: "Even Sir Francis Wronghead is a character of manners, though drawn with great humour." He then repeated, very happily, all Sir Francis's credulous account to Manly of his being with "the great man," and fecuring a place. I asked him if the "Sufpicious Husband" did not furnish a well-drawn character, that of Ranger. JOHNSON. "No, Sir; Ranger is just a rake, a mere rake, and a lively young fellow, but no character." The great Douglas cause was at this time a very general fubject of difcuffion. I found he had not studied it with much attention, but had only heard Qq 2 parts 4 { 1768. parts of it occafionally. He, however, talked of it, and said, "I am of Ætat. 59. opinion that positive proof of fraud should not be required of the plaintiff, but that the Judges should decide according as probability shall appear to preponderate, granting to the defendant the prefumption of filiation to be strong in his favour. And I think too, that a good deal of weight should be allowed to the dying declarations, because they were spontaneous. There is a great difference between what is faid without our being urged to it, and what is faid from a kind of compulfion. If I praise a man's book without being asked my opinion of it, that is honest praise, to which one may trust. But if an authour asks me if I like his book, and I give him something like praise, it must not be taken as my real opinion. " I have not been troubled for a long time with authours defiring my opinion of their works. I used once to be fadly plagued with a man who wrote verses, but who literally had no other notion of a verse, but that it consisted of ten fyllables. Lay your knife and your fork across your plate, was to him a verse : Lay your knife and your fork, across your plate. As he wrote a great number of verses he sometimes by chance made good ones, though he did not know it." He renewed his promife of coming to Scotland, and going with me to the Hebrides, but faid he would now content himself with feeing one or two of the most curious of them. He said "Macaulay, who writes the account of St. Kilda, fet out with a prejudice against prejudices, and wanted to be a smart modern thinker; and yet he affirms for a truth, that when a ship arrives there all the inhabitants are seized with a cold." He expatiated on the advantages of Oxford for learning. "There is here, Sir, (faid he,) such a progressive emulation. The students are anxious to appear well to their tutors; the tutors are anxious to have their pupils appear well in the college; the colleges are anxious to have their students appear well in the University; and there are excellent rules of difcipline in every college. That the rules are sometimes ill observed, may be true; but is nothing againft the system. The members of an University may, for a feafon, be unmindful of their duty. I am arguing for the excellency of the institution." Of Guthrie he said, "Sir, he is a man of parts. He has no great regular fund of knowledge; but by reading so long, and writing so long, he no doubt has picked up a good deal." He faid he had lately been a long while at Lichfield, but had grown very weary before he left it. BOSWELL. " I wonder at that, Sir; it is your native place." JOHNSON. "Why so is Scotland your native place.' LIOTHEC His |