unintentionally, by wishing him joy. I know not why he disliked having his birthday mentioned, unless it were that it reminded him of his approaching nearer to death, of which he had a constant dread.

I mentioned to him a friend of mine who was formerly gloomy from low spirits, and much distressed by the fear of death, but was now uniformly placid, and contemplated his dissolution without any perturbation. "Sir (said Johnson), this is only a disordered imagination taking a different turn."

We talked of a collection being made of all the English Poets who had published a volume of poems. Johnson told me "that a Mr. Coxeter,* whom he knew, had gone the greatest length towards this; having collected, I think, about five hundred volumes of poets whose works were little known; but that upon his death Tom Osborne bought them, and they were dispersed, which he thought a pity, as it was curious to see any series complete; and in every volume of poems something good may be found."

BOSWELL:
JOHNSON :

He observed that a gentleman of eminence in literature had got into a bad style of Poetry of late. He puts (said he) a very common thing in a strange dress till he does not know it himself, and thinks other people do not know it." "That is owing to his being so much versant in old English poetry." "What is that to the purpose, Sir? If I say a man is drunk, and you tell me it is owing to his taking much drink, the matter is not mended. No, Sir, has taken to an odd mode. For example; he'd write thus :

'Hermit hoar, in solemn cell,
Wearing out life's evening gray;'

一十

Gray evening is common enough; but evening gray he'd think fine.—Stay ;—we'll make out the stanza:

'Hermit hoar, in solemn cell,

Wearing out life's evening gray:

Smite thy bosom, sage, and tell,

What is bliss? and which the way?'

BOSWELL: "But, why smite his bosom, Sir?"

66

JOHNSON: 'Why to show

* [Thomas Coxeter, Esq., who had also made a large collection of old plays, and from whose manuscript notes the Lives of the English Poets, by Shiels and Cibber, were principally compiled, as should have been mentioned in a former page. See p. 620 of this edition. Mr. Coxeter was bred at Trinity College, Oxford, and died in London, April 17, 1747, in his fifty-ninth year. A particular account of him may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1781, p. 173. M.]

[This was generally supposed to have been Dr. Percy, but Thomas Warton was meant, and the parodies were intended to ridicule the style of his poems published in 1777. [Warton's] verses are come out," says Mrs. Thrale. "Yes," replied Johnson, "and this frost has struck them in again. Here are some lines I have written to ridicule them but remember that I love the fellow dearly;for all I laugh at him.

'Wheresoe'er I turn my view,

All is strange, yet nothing new:
Endless labour all along.
Endless labour to be wrong:
Phrase that time has flung away;
Uncouth words in disarray,

Trick'd in antique ruff and bonnet,

Ode, and elegy, and sonnet.'"-" Anecdotes."

But

The first lines of two of Warton's best known odes are marked with the kind of inversion which Johnson laughed at " Evening spreads her mantle hoar,” and “Beneath the beech whose branches bare." there is no other point of resemblance that I can discover.-Croker.]

Etat. 68]

WARTON'S POEMS

709

he was in earnest " (smiling). -He at an after period added the following

stanza:

"Thus I spoke; and speaking sigh'd;
-Scarce repress'd the starting tear ;-
When the smiling sage reply'd-

Come, my lad, and drink some beer." *

I cannot help thinking the first stanza very good solemn poetry, as also the first three lines of the second. Its last line is an excellent burlesque surprise on gloomy sentimental inquirers. And, perhaps, the advice is as good as can be given to a low-spirited dissatisfied being :-" Don't trouble your head with sickly thinking : take a cup, and be merry.'

66

The seat of Lord Scarsdale, which Johnson visited with Boswell on September 19th, 1777.

Friday, September 19, after breakfast, Johnson and I set out in Dr. Taylor's chaise to go to Derby. The day was fine, and we resolved to go by Keddlestone, the seat of Lord Scarsdale, that I might see his Lordship's fine house. I was struck

* As some of my readers may be gratified by reading the progress of this little composition, I shall insert it from my notes. When Dr. Johnson and I were sitting tête-à-tête at the Mitre Tavern, May 9, 1778, he said, 'Where is bliss,' would be better. He then added a ludicrous stanza, but would not repeat it, lest I should take it down. It was somewhat as follows; the last line I am sure I remember :

"In spring, 1779, when in better humour, he made the second stanza, as in the text. There was only one variation afterwards made on my suggestion, which was changing hoary, in the third line, to smiling, both to avoid a sameness with the epithet in the first line, and to describe the hermit in his pleasantry. He was then very well pleased that I should preserve it."

with the magnificence of the building; and the extensive park, with the finest verdure, covered with deer, and cattle, and sheep, delighted me. The number of old oaks, of an immense size, filled me with a sort of respectful admiration for one of them, £60 was offered. The excellent smooth gravel roads; the large piece of water, formed by his Lordship from some small brooks, with a handsome barge upon it; the venerable Gothic church, now the family chapel, just by the house; in short, the grand group of objects agitated and distended my mind in a most agreeable manner. "One should think (said I) that the proprietor of all this must be happy."—" Nay, Sir (said Johnson), all this excludes but one evil-poverty.

Our names were sent up, and a well-dressed elderly housekeeper, a most distinct articulator, showed us the house; which I need not describe, as there is an account of it published in "Adams's Works in Architecture." Dr. Johnson thought better of it to-day than when he saw it before; for he had lately attacked it violently, saying, "It would do excellently for a town-hall. The large room with the pillars (said he) would do for the Judges to sit in at the Assizes; the circular room for a jury-chamber; and the room above for prisoners." Still he thought the large room ill-lighted, and of no use but for dancing in; and the bed-chambers but indifferent rooms; and that the immense sum which it cost was injudiciously laid out. Dr. Taylor had put him in mind of his appearing pleased with the house. "But (said he) that was when Lord Scarsdale was present. Politeness obliges us to appear pleased with a man's works when he is present. No man will be so ill-bred as to question you. You may therefore pay compliments without saying what is not true. I should say to Lord Scarsdale, of his large room, My Lord, this is the most costly room that I ever saw;' which is true."

Dr. Manningham, physician in London, who was visiting at Lord Scarsdale's, accompanied us through many of the rooms, and soon afterwards my Lord himself, to whom Dr. Johnson was known, appeared, and did the honours of the house. We talked of Mr. Langton. Johnson, with a warm vehemence of affectionate regard, exclaimed, "The earth does not bear a worthier man than Bennet Langton. We saw a good many fine pictures, which I think are described in one of "Young's Tours." There is a printed catalogue of them, which the housekeeper put into my hand; I should like to view them at leisure. I was much struck with Daniel interpreting Nebuchadnezzar's dream, by Rembrandt.-We were shown a pretty large library. In his Lordship's dressing-room lay Johnson's small Dictionary: he showed it to me, with some eagerness, saying, "Look'ye! Quæ regio in terris nostri non plena laboris ?" He observed, also, Goldsmith's He observed, also, Goldsmith's "Animated Nature; " and said, "Here's our friend! The poor Doctor would have been happy to hear of this.” In our way, Johnson strongly expressed his love of driving fast in a post-chaise. "If (said he) I had no duties, and no reference to futurity, I would spend my life in driving briskly in a post-chaise with a pretty woman; but she should be one who could understand me, and would add something to the conversation." I observed that we were this day to stop just where the Highland army did in 1745. JOHNSON: "It was a noble attempt." BOSWELL: "I wish we could have an authentic history of it." JOHNSON: "If you were not an idle dog, you might write it, by collecting from everybody what they can tell, and putting down your authorities." BOSWELL:

* When I mentioned Dr. Johnson's remark to a lady of admirable good sense and quickness of understanding, she observed, "It is true, all this excludes only one evil; but how much good does it let in?". -To this observation much praise has been justly given. Let me then now do myself the honour to mention that the lady who made it was the late Margaret Montgomerie, my very valuable wife, and the very affectionate mother of my children, who, if they inherit her good qualities, will have no reason to complain of their lot. Dos magna parentum virtus.

Etat. 681

JOHNSON AT KEDDLESTONE

711

"But I could not have the advantage of it in my life-time." JOHNSON: "You might have the satisfaction of its fame, by printing it in Holland; and as to profit, consider how long it was before writing came to be considered in a pecuniary view. Baretti says he is the first

man that ever received copymoney in Italy." I said that I would endeavour to do what Dr. Johnson suggested; and I thought that I might write so as to venture to publish my "History of the Civil War in Great Britain, in 1745 and 1746," without being obliged to go to a foreign press.'

*

When we arrived at Derby, Dr. Butter accompanied us to see the manufactory of china there. I admired the ingenuity and delicate art with which a man fashioned clay into a cup, a saucer, or a tea-pot, while a boy turned round a wheel to give the mass rotundity. I thought this as excellent in its species of power as making good verses in its species. Yet I had no respect for this potter. Neither, indeed, has a man of any extent of thinking for a mere verse-maker, in whose numbers, however perfect, there is no poetry, no mind. The china was beautiful, but Dr. Johnson justly observed it was too dear; for that he could have vessels of silver, of the same size, as cheap as what were here made of porcelain.

DR. WILLIAM CULLEN (b. 1712, d. 1790) was a native of Lanarkshire, apprenticed to a surgeon at Glasgow, and at one time partner with Dr. William Hunter. In 1751 he was appointed King's Professor of Medicine at Glasgow University. He removed to Edinburgh in 1756 and became Professor of Chemistry at the university, where, in 1766, he was elected to the chair of medicine. Johnson obtained, through Boswell, the advice of Dr. Cullen, in his last illness.

I felt a pleasure in walking about Derby, such as I always have in walking about any town to which I am not accustomed. There is an immediate sensation of novelty; and one speculates on the way in which life is passed in it, which, although there is a sameness everywhere upon the whole, is yet minutely diversified. The minute diversities in every thing are wonderful. Talking of shaving, the other night at Dr. Taylor's, Dr. Johnson said, "Sir, of a thousand shavers, two do not shave so much alike as not to be distinguished." I thought this not possible, till he specified so many of the varieties in shaving;-holding the razor more or less perpendicular;-drawing long or short strokes ;-beginning at the upper part of the face, or the under-at the right side or the left side. Indeed, when one considers what variety of sounds can be uttered by the wind-pipe, in the compass of a very

I am now happy to understand that Mr. John Home, who was himself gallantly in the field for the reigning family, in that interesting warfare, but is generous enough to do justice to the other side, is preparing an account of it for the press.

small aperture, we may be convinced how many degrees of difference there may be in the application of a razor.

66

We dined with Dr. Butter,* whose lady is daughter of my cousin Sir John Douglas, whose grandson is now presumptive heir of the noble family of Queensberry. Johnson and he had a good deal of medical conversation. Johnson said he had somewhere or other given an account of Dr. Nichols's discourse "De Anima Medicâ.” He told us that whatever a man's distemper was, Dr. Nichols would not attend him as a physician, if his mind was not at ease; for he believed that no medicines would have any influence. He once attended a man in trade, upon whom he found none of the medicines he prescribed had any effect; he asked the man's wife privately whether his affairs were not in a bad way? She said no. He continued his attendance some time, still without success. At length the man's wife told him she had discovered that her husband's affairs were in a bad way. When Goldsmith was dying, Dr. Turton said to him, ' Your pulse is in greater disorder than it should be, from the degree of fever which you have: is your mind at ease?' Goldsmith answered it was not."

After dinner, Mrs. Butter went with me to see the silk-mill which Mr. John Lombe † had had a patent for, having brought away the contrivance from Italy. I am not very conversant with mechanics; but the simplicity of this machine, and its multiplied operations, struck me with an agreeable surprise. I had learnt from Dr. Johnson, during this interview, not to think with a dejected indifference of the works of art, and the pleasures of life, because life is uncertain and short; but to consider such indifference as a failure of reason, a morbidness of mind; for happiness should be cultivated as much as we can, and the objects which are instrumental to it should be steadily considered as of importance, with a reference not only to ourselves, but to multitudes in successive ages. Though it is proper to value small parts, as "Sands make the mountain, moments make the year; " ‡

yet we must contemplate, collectively, to have a just estimation of objects. One moment's being uneasy or not, seems of no consequence; yet this may be thought of the next, and the next, and so on, till there is a large portion of misery. In the same way one must think of happiness, of learning, of friendship. We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over. We must not divide objects of our attention into minute parts, and think separately of each part. It is by contemplating a large mass of human existence, that a man, while he sets a just value on his own life, does not think of his death as annihilating all that is great and pleasing in the world, as if actually contained in his mind, according to Berkeley's reverie. If his imagination be not sickly and feeble, it "wings its distant way" far beyond himself, and views the world in unceasing activity of every sort. It must be acknowledged, however, that Pope's plaintive reflection, that all things would be as gay as ever, on the day of his death, is natural and common. We are apt to transfer to all around us our own gloom, without considering that at any given point of time

[* Dr. Butter was at this time a practising physician at Derby. He afterwards removed to London, where he died in his 79th year, March 22, 1805. He is author of several medical tracts. M.]

† See Hutton's History of Derby," a book which is deservedly esteemed for its information, accuracy, and good narrative. Indeed, the age in which we live is eminently distinguished by topographical excellence.

+ Young.