. 10 dining, or rather being fed, at such too much, he was in danger of losing that degree of estimation to which he was entitled. His friends gave out that he intended his Birthday Odes should be 5 bad; but that was not the case, sir; for he kept them many months by him, and a few years before he died he showed me one of them, with great solicitude to render it as perfect as might be, and I made some corrections, to which he was not very willing to submit. I remember the following couplet in allusion to the King and himself: Perched on the eagle's soaring wing, Sir, he had heard something of the fabulous tale of the wren sitting upon the eagle's wing, and he had applied it to a linnet. Cibber's familiar style, however, was better than that which Whitehead has assumed. Grand nonsense is insupportable. Whitehead is but a little man to inscribe verses to players.' I did not presume to controvert this censure, which was tinctured with his prejudice against players; but I could not help thinking that a dramatic poet might with propriety pay a compliment to an eminent performer, as Whitehead has very happily done in his verses to Mr. Garrick. Sir, I do not think Gray a first-rate poet. He has not a bold imagination, nor much command of words. The obscurity in which he has involved himself will not persuade us that he is sublime. His Elegy in a Churchyard has a happy are called his great things. His Ode which begins Johnson had not observed that I was in the room I followed him, however, and he agreed to meet me in the evening 35 at the Mitre. I called on him, and we went thither at nine. We had a good supper, and port wine, of which he then sometimes drank a bottle. The orthodox high-church sound of the Mitre, the 40 selection of images, but I don't like what figure and manner of the celebrated Samuel Johnson,- the extraordinary power and precision of his conversation, and the pride, arising from finding myself admitted as his companion, produced a 45 variety of sensations, and a pleasing elevation of mind beyond what I had ever before experienced. I find in my Journal the following minute of our conversation, which, though it will give but a very faint notion of what passed, is, in some degree, a valuable record; and it will be curious in this view, as showing how habitual to his mind were some opinions which appear in his works. Colley Cibber, sir, was by no means a blockhead, but by arrogating to himself 50 55 "Ruin seize thee, ruthless King, has been celebrated for its abruptness, Is there ever a man in all Scotland, gree, And then, sir, Yes, there is a man in Westmoreland, There, now, you plunge at once into the subject. You have no previous narration to lead you to it. The two next lines in that Ode are, I think, very good: "Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state."' * 15 my part, sir, I think all christians, whether papists or protestants, agree in the essential articles, and that their differences are trivial, and rather political than 5 religious.' We talked of belief in ghosts. He said, 'Sir, I make a distinction between what a man may experience by the mere strength of his imagination, and what 10 imagination cannot possibly produce. Thus, suppose I should think that I saw a form, and heard a voice cry, "Johnson, you are a very wicked fellow, and unless you repent you will certainly be punished"; my own unworthiness is so deeply impressed upon my mind, that I might imagine I thus saw and heard, and therefore I should not believe that an external_communication had been made to me. But if a form should appear, and a voice should tell me that a particular man had died at a particular place, and a particular hour, a fact which I had no apprehension of, nor any means of knowing, and this fact, with all its circumstances, should afterwards be unquestionably proved, I should in that case be persuaded that I had supernatural intelligence imparted to me.' Finding him in a placid humor, and wishing to avail myself of the opportunity which I fortunately had of consulting a sage, to hear whose wisdom, I conceived, in the ardor of youthful imagination, that 20 men filled with a noble enthusiasm for intellectual improvement would gladly have resorted from distant lands,— I opened my mind to him ingenuously, and gave him a little sketch of my life, to 25 which he was pleased to listen with great attention. I acknowledged that though educated very strictly in the principles of religion, I had for some time been misled into a 30 certain degree of infidelity; but that I was come now to a better way of thinking, and was fully satisfied of the truth of the christian revelation, though I was not clear as to every point considered to 35 be orthodox. Being at all times a curious examiner of the human mind, and pleased with an undisguised display of what had passed in it, he called to me with warmth, Give me your hand, I 40 have taken a liking to you.' He then began to descant upon the force of testimony, and the little we could know of final causes; so that the objections of, 'Why was it so?' or 'Why was it not 45 so?' ought not to disturb us: adding, that he himself had at one period been guilty of a temporary neglect of religion, but that it was not the result of argument, but mere absence of thought. 50 After having given credit to reports of his bigotry, I was agreeably surprised. when he expressed the following very liberal sentiment, which has the additional value of obviating an objection to our 55 holy religion, founded upon the discordant tenets of christians themselves: 'For Here it is proper, once for all, to give a true and fair statement of Johnson's way of thinking upon the question, whether departed spirits are ever permitted to appear in this world, or in any way to operate upon human life. He has been ignorantly misrepresented as weakly credulous upon that subject; and, therefore, though I feel an inclination to disdain and treat with silent contempt so foolish a notion concerning my illustrious friend, yet, as I find it has gained ground, it is necessary to refute it. The real fact then is, that Johnson had a very philosophical mind, and such a rational respect for testimony, as to make him submit his understanding to what was authentically proved, though he could not comprehend why it was so. Being thus disposed, he was willing to inquire into the truth of any relation of supernatural agency, a general belief of which has prevailed in all nations and ages. But so far was he from being the dupe of implicit faith, that he examined the matter with a jealous attention, and no man was more ready to refute its falsehood when he had discovered it. Churchill, in his 5 poem entitled The Ghost, availed him- Our conversation proceeded. Sir,' said he, 'I am a friend to subordination as most conducive to the happiness of 30 society. There is a reciprocal pleasure in governing and being governed.' 'Dr. Goldsmith is one of the first men we now have as an author, and he is a very worthy man too. He has been loose 35 in his principles, but he is coming right.' Critical I mentioned Mallet's tragedy of Elvira, which had been acted the preceding winter at Drury-lane, and that the Honorable Andrew Erskine, Mr. 40 Dempster, and myself, had joined in. writing a pamphlet, entitled Critical Strictures, against it. That the mildness of Dempster's disposition had, however, relented; and he had candidly said, 'We 45 have hardly a right to abuse this tragedy, for, bad as it is, how vain should either of us be to write one not near so good!' JOHNSON: Why, no sir; this is not just reasoning. You may abuse a tragedy, 50 though you cannot write one. You may scold a carpenter who has made you a bad table, though you cannot make a table. It is not your trade to make tables.' When I talked to him of the paternal estate to which I was heir, he said, 'Sir, let me tell you, that to be a Scotch landlord, where you have a number of families dependent upon you, and attached to you, is, perhaps, as high a situation as humanity can arrive at. A merchant upon the 'Change of London, with a hundred thousand pounds, is nothing; an English Duke, with an immense fortune, is nothing; he has no tenants who consider themselves as under his patriarchal care, and who will follow him to the field upon an emergency.' * I complained to him that I had not yet acquired much knowledge, and asked his advice as to my studies. He said, 'Don't talk of study, now. I will give you a plan; but it will require some time to consider of it.' 'It is very good in you,' I replied, to allow me to be with you thus. Had it been foretold to me some years ago that I should pass an evening with the author of the Rambler, how should I have exulted!' What I then expressed was sincerely from my heart. He was satisfied that it was, and cordially answered, 'Sir, I am glad we have met. I hope we shall pass many evenings, and mornings too, together.' We finished a couple of bottles of port, and sat till between one and two in the morning. a He wrote this year, in the Critical Review, the account of Telemachus, Mask, by the Rev. George Graham, of Eton College. The subject of this beautiful poem was particularly interesting to Johnson, who had much experience ofthe conflict of opposite principles,' which he describes as the contention between pleasure and virtue, a struggle which will always be continued while the present system of nature shall subsist; nor can history or poetry exhibit more than pleasure triumphing over virtue, and virtue subjugating pleasure.' As Dr. Oliver Goldsmith will frequently appear in this narrative, I shall endeavor to make my readers in some degree acquainted with his singular character. He was a native of Ireland, and a contemporary with Mr. Burke, at Trinity College, Dublin, but did not then give much promise of future celebrity. He, however, observed to Mr. Malone, 55 that though he made no great figure in mathematics, which was a study in much repute there, he could turn an Ode of 5 Horace into English better than any of wherever he was, he frequently talked carelessly without knowledge of the subject, or even without thought. His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. Those who were in any way distinguished, excited envy in him to so ridiculous an excess, that the instances of it are hardly credible. When accompanying two beautiful young ladies," with their mother, on a tour in France, he was seriously angry that more attention was paid to them than to him; and once at the exhibition of the Fantoccini in London, when those who sat next to him observed with what dexterity a puppet was made to toss a pike, he could not bear that it should have such praise, and exclaimed, with some warmth, Pshaw! I can do it better myself.' 3 He, I am afraid, had no settled system of any sort, so that his conduct must not be strictly scrutinized; but his affections At this time I think he had published 25 were social and generous, and when he nothing with his name, though it was had money he gave it away very liberally. pretty generally known that one Dr. His desire of imaginary consequence Goldsmith was the author of An Inquiry predominated over his attention to truth. into the present State of Polite Learning When he began to rise into notice, he in Europe, and of The Citizen of the 30 said he had a brother who was dean of World, a series of letters supposed to be Durham, a fiction so easily detected, that written from London by a Chinese. No it is wonderful how he should have been man had the art of displaying with more so inconsiderate as to hazard it. He advantage, as a writer, whatever literary boasted to me at this time of the power acquisitions he made. Nihil quod tetigit 35 of his pen in commanding money, which non ornavit1 [There was nothing he I believe was true in a certain degree, touched he did not adorn]. His mind re- though in the instance he gave he was sembled a fertile but thin soil. There by no means correct. He told me that was a quick, but not a strong, vegeta- he had sold a novel for four hundred tion, of whatever chanced to be thrown 40 pounds. This was his Vicar of Wakeupon it. No deep root could be struck. field. But Johnson informed me that he The oak of the forest did not grow there; had made the bargain for Goldsmith, and but the elegant shrubbery and the fra- the price was sixty pounds. 'And, sir,' grant parterre appeared in gay succession. said he, a sufficient price too, when it It has been generally circulated and be- 45 was sold; for then the fame of Goldsmith lieved that he was a mere fool in con- had not been elevated, as it afterwards versation; but, in truth, this has been was, by his Traveller; and the bookseller greatly exaggerated. He had, no doubt, had such faint hopes of profit by his bara more than common share of that hurry gain, that he kept the manuscript by him of ideas which we often find in his 50 a long time, and did not publish it till countrymen, and which sometimes pro- after The Traveller had appeared. Then, duces a laughable confusion in expressing them. He was very much what the French call un étourdi, and from vanity and an eager desire of being conspicuous 55 1 See his epitaph in Westminster Abbey, written by Dr. Johnson. 2 Miss Hornecks, one of whom is now married to Henry Bunbury, Esq., and the other to Colonel Gwyn. 3 He went home with Mr. Burke to supper; and broke his shin by attempting to exhibit to the company how much better he could jump over a stick than the puppets. to be sure, it was accidentally worth more money.' be sure, he is a tree that cannot produce good fruit: he only bears crabs. But, sir, a tree that produces a great many crabs, is better than a tree which produces only 5 a few.' Mrs. Piozzi and Sir John Hawkins have strangely misstated the history of Goldsmith's situation and Johnson's friendly interference, when this novel was sold. I shall give it authentically from Johnson's own exact narration: 'I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith that he was in great distress, 10 and, as it was not in his power to come to me, begging that I would come to him as soon as possible. I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was dressed, 15 and found that his landlady had arrested him for his rent, at which he was in a violent passion. I perceived that he had already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of Madeira and a glass before him. 20 I put the cork into the bottle, desired he would be calm, and began to talk to him of the means by which he might be extricated. He then told me that he had a novel ready for the press, which he pro- 25 duced to me. I looked into it, and saw its merits; told the landlady I should return; and, having gone to a bookseller, sold it for sixty pounds. I brought Goldsmith the money, and he discharged his 30 rent, not without rating his landlady in a high tone for having used him so ill.' My next meeting with Johnson was on Friday, the 1st of July, when he and I and Dr. Goldsmith supped at the Mitre. * * at Let me here apologize for the imperfect manner in which I am obliged to exhibit Johnson's conversation this period. In the early part of my acquaintance with him, I was so wrapt in admiration of his extraordinary colloquial talents, and so little accustomed to his peculiar mode of expression, that I found it extremely difficult to recollect and record his conversation with its genuine vigor and vivacity. In progress of time, when my mind was, as it were, strongly impregnated with the Johnsonian aether, I could with much more facility and exactness, carry in my memory and commit to paper the exuberant variety of his wisdom and wit. At this time Miss Williams, as she was then called, though she did not reside with him in the Temple under his roof, but had lodgings in Bolt-court, Fleetstreet, had so much of his attention, that he every night drank tea with her before he went home, however late it might be, and she always sat up for him. This it may be conjectured, was not alone a proof of his regard for her, but of his own unwillingness to go into solitude, before 35 that unseasonable hour at which he had habituated himself to expect the oblivion of repose. Dr. Goldsmith, being a privileged man, went with him this night, strutting away, and calling to me with an air of superiority, like that of an esoteric over an exoteric disciple of a sage of antiquity, 'I go to Miss Williams.' I confess, I then envied him this mighty privilege, of which he seemed so proud; He talked very contemptuously of Churchill's poetry, observing, that it had a temporary currency, only from its 40 audacity of abuse, and being filled with living names, and that it would sink into oblivion.' I ventured to hint that he was not quite a fair judge, as Churchill had attacked him violently. JOHNSON: Nay 45 but it was not long before I obtained the sir, I am a very fair judge. He did not attack me violently till he found I did not like his poetry; and his attack on me shall not prevent me from continuing to say what I think of him, from an apprehension that it may be ascribed to resentment. No, sir, I called the fellow a blockhead at first, and I will call him a blockhead still. However, I will acknowledge that I have a better opinion of 55 him now than I once had; for he has shown more fertility than I expected. To same mark of distinction. * * * On Wednesday, July 6, he was engaged to sup with me at my lodgings in 50 Downing-street, Westminster. But on the preceding night my landlord having behaved very rudely to me and some company who were with me, I had resolved not to remain another night in his house. I was exceedingly uneasy at the awkward appearance I supposed I should make to Johnson and the other gentlemen whom |