very sure, nor to any person present, for such an outrage against society. 66 Of latter years he grew much more companionable, and I have heard him say, that he knew himself to be so. "In my younger days," he would say, "it is true I was much inclined to treat mankind with asperity and contempt; but I found it answered no good end. I thought it wiser and better to take the world as it goes. Besides, as I have advanced in life I have had more reason to be satisfied with it. Mankind have treated me with more kindness, and of course I have more kindness for them.” In the latter part of his life, indeed, his circumstances were very different from what they were in the beginning. Before he had the pension, he literally dressed like a beggar; and from what I have been told, he as literally lived as such; at least as to common conveniences in his apartments, wanting even a chair to sit on, particularly in his study, where a gentleman who frequently visited him whilst writing his " Idlers" constantly found him at his desk, sitting on one with three legs; and on rising from it, he remarked that Dr. Johnson never forgot its defect, but would either hold it in his hand or place it with great composure against some support, taking no notice of its imperfection to his visitor. Whether the visitor sat on a chair, or on a pile of folios, or how he sat, I never remember to have been told. He particularly piqued himself upon his nice observance of ceremonious punctilios towards ladies. A remarkable instance of this was his never suffering any lady to walk from his house to her carriage, through Bolt Court, unattended by himself to hand her into it (at least I have reason to suppose it to be his general custom, from his constant performance of it to those with whom he was the most intimately acquainted); and if any obstacle prevented it from driving off, there he would stand by the door of it, and gather a mob around him; indeed, they would begin to gather the moment he appeared handing the lady down the steps into Fleet Street. But to describe his appearancehis important air-that indeed cannot be described; and his morning habiliments would excite the utmost astonishment in my reader, that a man in his senses could think of stepping outside his door in them, or even to be seen at home. Sometimes he exhibited himself at the distance of eight or ten doors from Bolt Court, to get at the carriage, to the no small diversion of the populace. His best dress was, in his early times, so very mean, that one afternoon as he was following some ladies up stairs, on a visit to a lady of fashion (Miss Cotterel), the servant, not knowing him, suddenly seized him by the shoulder, and exclaimed, "Where are you going?" striving at the same time to drag him back; but a gentleman' who was a few steps behind prevented her from doing or saying more, and Mr. Johnson growled all the way upstairs, as well he might. He seemed much chagrined and discomposed. Unluckily, whilst in this humour, a lady of high rank happening to call upon Miss Cotterel, he was most violently offended with her for not introducing him to her ladyship, and still more so for her seeming to show more attention to her than to him. After sitting some time silent, meditating how to down Miss Cotterel, he addressed himself to Mr. Reynolds, who sat next him, and, after a few introductory words, with a loud voice said, "I wonder which of us two could get most money at his trade in one week, were we to work hard at it from morning till night." I don't remember the answer; but I know that the lady, rising soon after, went away without knowing what trade they were of. She might probably suspect Mr. Johnson to be a poor author by his dress; and because the trade of neither a blacksmith, a porter, or a chairman, which she probably would have taken him for in the street, was not quite so suitable to the place she saw him in. This incident he used to mention with great glee-how he had downed Miss Cotterel, though at the same time he professed a great friendship and esteem for that lady. It is certain, for such kind of mortifications, he never expressed any concern; but on other occasions he has shown an amiable sorrow for the offence he has given, particularly if it seemed to involve the slightest disrespect to the church or to its ministers. I shall never forget with what regret he spoke of the rude reply he made to Dr. Barnard, on his saying that men never improved after the age of forty-five.2 "That is not true, Sir," said Johnson. "You, who perhaps are forty-eight, may still improve, if you will try: I wish you would set about it; and I am afraid," he added, "there is great room for it;" and this was 1 Sir Joshua (then Mr.) Reynolds. - Croker. 2 See Life, vol. iv. (May, 1781). said in rather a large party of ladies and gentlemen at dinner. Soon after the ladies withdrew from the table, Dr. Johnson followed them, and, sitting down by the lady of the house, he said, "I am very sorry for having spoken so rudely to the dean." "You very well may, Sir." "Yes," he said, "it was highly improper to speak in that style to a minister of the Gospel, and I am the more hurt on reflecting with what mild dignity he received it." When the dean came up into the drawing-room, Dr. Johnson immediately rose from his seat, and made him sit on the sofa by him, and with such a beseeching look for pardon, and with such fond gestures-literally smoothing down his arms and his knees-tokens of penitence, which were so graciously received by the dean as to make Dr. Johnson very happy, and not a little added to the esteem and respect he had previously entertained for his character. The next morning the dean called on Sir Joshua Reynolds with the following verses: "I lately thought no man alive "No, Sir,' says Johnson, 'tis not so; Encouraged thus to mend my faults, "Then come, my friends, and try your skill ; (My books are at a distance); With you I'll live and learn, and then So lend me your assistance. "Dear knight of Plympton,' teach me how And smile serene as thine, The jest uncouth and truth severe; "Thou say'st not only skill is gain'd, "Thy art of pleasing teach me, Garrick, A second time read o'er; Oh! could we read thee backwards too, "If I have thoughts and can't express 'em, "Let Johnson teach me how to place Talking on the subject of scepticism, he said, "The eyes of the mind are like the eyes of the body; they can see only at such a distance: but because we cannot see beyond this point, is there nothing beyond it? Talking of the want of memory, he said, "No, Sir, it is not true; in general every person has an equal capacity for reminiscence, and for one thing as well as another, otherwise it would be like a person complaining that he could hold silver in his hand, but could not hold copper." "No, Sir," he once said, "people are not born with a par 1 [Sir Joshua Reynolds.] 2 [A humorous attempt of Garrick's to read one of Cumberland's odes backwards.] ticular genius for particular employments or studies, for it would be like saying that a man could see a great way east, but could not west. It is good sense applied with diligence to what was at first a mere accident, and which, by great application, grew to be called, by the generality of mankind, a particular genius." Some person advanced, that a lively imagination disqualified the mind from fixing steadily upon objects which required serious and minute investigation. JOHNSON. "It is true, Sir, a vivacious quick imagination does sometimes give a confused idea of things, and which do not fix deep, though, at the same time, he has a capacity to fix them in his memory, if he would endeavour at it. It being like a man that, when he is running, does not make observations on what he meets with, and consequently is not impressed by them; but he has, nevertheless, the power of stopping and informing himself." 66 A gentleman was mentioning it as a remark of an acquaintance of his, "that he never knew but one person that was completely wicked." JOHNSON. "Sir, I don't know what you mean by a person completely wicked." GENTLEMAN. Why, any one that has entirely got rid of all shame." JOHNSON. "How is he, then, completely wicked? He must get rid, too, of all conscience." GENTLEMAN. "I think conscience and shame the same thing." JOHNSON. "I am surprised to hear you say so; they spring from two different sources, and are distinct perceptions: one respects this world, the other the next." A LADY. "I think, however, that a person who has got rid of shame is in a fair way to get rid of conscience." JOHNSON. "Yes, 'tis a part of the way, I grant; but there are degrees at which men stop, some for the fear of men, some for the fear of God: shame arises from the fear of men, conscience from the fear of God." Dr. Johnson seemed to delight in drawing characters; and when he did so con amore, delighted every one that heard him. Indeed, I cannot say I ever heard him draw any con odio, though he professed himself to be, or at least to love, a good hater. But I have remarked that his dislike of any one seldom prompted him to say much more than that the fellow is a blockhead, a poor creature, or some such epithet. I shall never forget the exalted character he drew of his friend Mr. Langton, nor with what energy, what fond delight, he expatiated in his praise, giving him every excellence that nature could bestow, and every perfection that humanity could acquire. A literary lady was present, Miss |