He advised me to do it. ‘The great thing to be recorded, (said he), is the state of your own mind[635]; and you should write down every thing that you remember, for you cannot judge at first what is good or bad; and write immediately while the impression is fresh, for it will not be the same a week afterwards[636].’
I again solicited him to communicate to me the particulars of his early life. He said, ‘You shall have them all for twopence. I hope you shall know a great deal more of me before you write my Life.’ He mentioned to me this day many circumstances, which I wrote down when I went home, and have interwoven in the former part of this narrative.
On Tuesday, April 13, he and Dr. Goldsmith and I dined at General Oglethorpe’s. Goldsmith expatiated on the common topick, that the race of our people was degenerated, and that this was owing to luxury. JOHNSON. ‘Sir, in the first place, I doubt the fact[637]. I believe there are as many tall men in England now, as ever there were. But, secondly, supposing the stature of our people to be diminished, that is not owing to luxury; for, Sir, consider to how very small a proportion of our people luxury can reach. Our soldiery, surely, are not luxurious, who live on sixpence a day[638]; and the same remark will apply to almost all the other classes. Luxury, so far as it reaches the poor, will do good to the race of people; it will strengthen and multiply them. Sir, no nation was ever hurt by luxury; for, as I said before, it can reach but to a very few. I admit that the great increase of commerce and manufactures hurts the military spirit of a people; because it produces a competition for something else than martial honours,—a competition for riches. It also hurts the bodies of the people; for you will observe, there is no man who works at any particular trade, but you may know him from his appearance to do so. One part or other of his body being more used than the rest, he is in some degree deformed: but, Sir, that is not luxury. A tailor sits cross-legged; but that is not luxury.’ GOLDSMITH. ‘Come, you’re just going to the same place by another road.’ JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir, I say that is not luxury. Let us take a walk from Charing-cross to White-chapel, through, I suppose, the greatest series of shops in the world; what is there in any of these shops (if you except gin-shops,) that can do any human being any harm?’ GOLDSMITH. ‘Well, Sir, I’ll accept your challenge. The very next shop to Northumberland-house is a pickle-shop.’ JOHNSON. ‘Well, Sir: do we not know that a maid can in one afternoon make pickles sufficient to serve a whole family for a year? nay, that five pickle-shops can serve all the kingdom? Besides, Sir, there is no harm done to any body by the making of pickles, or the eating of pickles.’
We drank tea with the ladies; and Goldsmith sung Tony Lumpkin’s song in his comedy, She Stoops to Conquer, and a very pretty one, to an Irish tune[639], which he had designed for Miss Hardcastle; but as Mrs. Bulkeley, who played the part, could not sing, it was left out. He afterwards wrote it down for me, by which means it was preserved, and now appears amongst his poems[640]. Dr. Johnson, in his way home, stopped at my lodgings in Piccadilly, and sat with me, drinking tea a second time, till a late hour.
I told him that Mrs. Macaulay said, she wondered how he could reconcile his political principles with his moral; his notions of inequality and subordination with wishing well to the happiness of all mankind, who might live so agreeably, had they all their portions of land, and none to domineer over another. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, I reconcile my principles very well, because mankind are happier in a state of inequality and subordination[641]. Were they to be in this pretty state of equality, they would soon degenerate into brutes;—they would become Monboddo’s nation[642];—their tails would grow. Sir, all would be losers were all to work for all:—they would have no intellectual improvement. All intellectual improvement arises from leisure; all leisure arises from one working for another.’
Talking of the family of Stuart[643], he said, ‘It should seem that the family at present on the throne has now established as good a right as the former family, by the long consent of the people; and that to disturb this right might be considered as culpable. At the same time I own, that it is a very difficult question, when considered with respect to the house of Stuart. To oblige people to take oaths as to the disputed right, is wrong. I know not whether I could take them: but I do not blame those who do.’ So conscientious and so delicate was he upon this subject, which has occasioned so much clamour against him.
Talking of law cases, he said, ‘The English reports, in general, are very poor: only the half of what has been said is taken down; and of that half, much is mistaken. Whereas, in Scotland, the arguments on each side are deliberately put in writing, to be considered by the Court. I think a collection of your cases upon subjects of importance, with the opinions of the Judges upon them, would be valuable.’
On Thursday, April 15, I dined with him and Dr. Goldsmith at General Paoli’s. We found here Signor Martinelli, of Florence, authour of a History of England, in Italian, printed at London.
I spoke of Allan Ramsay’s Gentle Shepherd, in the Scottish dialect, as the best pastoral that had ever been written; not only abounding with beautiful rural imagery, and just and pleasing sentiments, but being a real picture of manners; and I offered to teach Dr. Johnson to understand it. ‘No, Sir (said he,) I won’t learn it. You shall retain your superiority by my not knowing it.’
This brought on a question whether one man is lessened by another’s acquiring an equal degree of knowledge with him[644]. Johnson asserted the affirmative. I maintained that the position might be true in those kinds of knowledge which produce wisdom, power, and force, so as to enable one man to have the government of others; but that a man is not in any degree lessened by others knowing as well as he what ends in mere pleasure:—eating fine fruits, drinking delicious wines, reading exquisite poetry.
The General observed, that Martinelli was a Whig. JOHNSON. ‘I am sorry for it. It shows the spirit of the times: he is obliged to temporise.’ BOSWELL. ‘I rather think, Sir, that Toryism prevails in this reign.’ JOHNSON. ‘I know not why you should think so, Sir. You see your friend Lord Lyttelton[645], a nobleman, is obliged in his History to write the most vulgar Whiggism.’
An animated debate took place whether Martinelli should continue his History of England to the present day. GOLDSMITH. ‘To be sure he should.’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir; he would give great offence. He would have to tell of almost all the living great what they do not wish told.’ GOLDSMITH. ‘It may, perhaps, be necessary for a native to be more cautious; but a foreigner who comes among us without prejudice, may be considered as holding the place of a Judge, and may speak his mind freely.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, a foreigner, when he sends a work from the press, ought to be on his guard against catching the errour and mistaken enthusiasm of the people among whom he happens to be.’ GOLDSMITH. ‘Sir, he wants only to sell his history, and to tell truth; one an honest, the other a laudable motive.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, they are both laudable motives. It is laudable in a man to wish to live by his labours; but he should write so as he may live by them, not so as he may be knocked on the head. I would advise him to be at Calais before he publishes his history of the present age. A foreigner who attaches himself to a political party in this country, is in the worst state that can be imagined: he is looked upon as a mere intermeddler. A native may do it from interest.’ BOSWELL. ‘Or principle.’ GOLDSMITH. ‘There are people who tell a hundred political lies every day, and are not hurt by it. Surely, then, one may tell truth with safety.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, in the first place, he who tells a hundred lies has disarmed the force of his lies[646]. But besides; a man had rather have a hundred lies told of him, than one truth which he does not wish should be told.’ GOLDSMITH. ‘For my part, I’d tell truth, and shame the devil.’ JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir; but the devil will be angry. I wish to shame the devil as much you do, but I should choose to be out of the reach of his claws.’ GOLDSMITH. ‘His claws can do you no harm, when you have the shield of truth.’
It having been observed that there was little hospitality in
London;—JOHNSON. ‘Nay, Sir, any man who has a name, or who has the
