Dunciad. While he was talking loudly in praise of those lines, one of the company ventured to say, "Too fine for fuch a poem :-a poem on what?” JOHNSON, (with a difdainful look,) "Why, on dunces. It was worth while being a dunce then. Ah, Sir, hadst thou lived in those days! It is not worth while being a dunce now, when there are no wits." Bickerstaff observed, as a peculiar circumstance, that Pope's fame was higher when he was alive than it was then. Johnfon faid, his Paftorals were poor things, though the verfification was fine. He told us, with high fatisfaction, the anecdote of Pope's inquiring who was the authour of his "London," and faying he will be foon deterré. He obferved, that in Dryden's poetry there were paffages drawn from a profundity which Pope could never reach. He repeated fome fine lines on love, by the former, (which I have now forgotten,) and gave great applaufe to the character of Zimri. Goldsmith faid, that Pope's character of Addison fhewed a deep knowledge of the human heart. Johnson faid, that the defcription of the temple, in "The Mourning Bride," was the finest poetical paffage he had ever read; he recollected none in Shakspeare equal to it."But, (faid Garrick, all alarmed for the god of his idolatry,') we know not the extent and variety of his powers. We are to suppose there are fuch paffages in his works. Shakspeare muft not fuffer from the badness of our memories." Johnson, diverted by this enthufiaftick jealoufy, went on with greater ardour: "No, Sir; Congreve has nature," (fimiling on the tragick eagerness of Garrick ;) but compofing himself, he added, "Sir, this is not comparing Congreve on the whole, with Shakspeare on the whole; but only maintaining that Congreve has one finer paffage than any that can be found in Shakspeare. Sir, a man may have no more than ten guineas in the' world, but he may have those ten guineas in one piece; and fo may have a finer piece than a man who has ten thousand pounds: but then he has only one tenguinea piece. What I mean is, that you can fhew me no paffage where there is fimply a description of material objects, without any intermixture of moral notions, which produces fuch an effect." Mr. Murphy mentioned Shakspeare's description of the night before the battle of Agincourt; but it was observed, it had men in it. Mr. Davies fuggefted the fpeech of Juliet, in which she figures herself awaking in the tomb of her ancestors. Sorne one mentioned the description of Dover Cliff. JOHNSON. "No, Sir; it fhould be all precipice, all vacuum. The crows impede your fall. The diminished appearance of the boats, and other circumftances, are all very good defcription; but do not imprefs the mind at once with the horrible idea of immense height. The impreffion is divided; you pafs on by computation, from one ftage of 1769. Etat. 60. the 1 1769. Etat. 60. the tremendous space to another. Had the girl in "The Mourning Bride" faid, she could not caft her fhoe to the top of one of the pillars in the temple, it would not have aided the idea, but weakened it." Talking of a Barrister who had a bad utterance, fome one, (to rouse Johnfon,) wickedly faid, that he was unfortunate in not having been taught oratory by Sheridan. JOHNSON. "Nay, Sir, if he had been taught by Sheridan, he would have cleared the room." GARRICK. "Sheridan has too much vanity to be a good man.” We fhall now fee Johnson's mode of defending a man; taking him into his own hands, and difcriminating. JOHNSON. "No, Sir. There is, to be fure, in Sheridan, fomething to reprehend, and every thing to laugh at; but, Sir, he is not a bad man. No, Sir; were mankind to be divided into good and bad, he would stand confiderably within the ranks of good. And, Sir, it must be allowed that Sheridan excels in plain declamation, though he can exhibit no character." I fhould, perhaps, have fuppreffed this difquifition concerning a perfon of whose merit and worth I think with refpect, had he not attacked Johnson fo outrageoufly in his Life of Swift, and, at the fame time, treated us his admirers as a fet of pigmies. He who has provoked the lash of wit, cannot complain that he fmarts from it. Mrs. Montague, a lady distinguished for having written an Effay on Shakfpeare, being mentioned;-REYNOLDS. "I think that effay does her honour." JOHNSON. "Yes, Sir; it does her honour, but it would do nobody else honour. I have, indeed, not read it all. But when I take up the end of a web, and find it packthread, I do not expect, by looking further, to find embroidery. Sir, I will venture to fay, there is not one fentence of true criticifm in her book." GARRICK. "But, Sir, furely it fhews how much Voltaire has mistaken Shakspeare, which nobody else has done." JOHNSON. "Sir, nobody else has thought it worth while. And what merit is there in that? You may as well praise a schoolmafter for whipping a boy who has conftrued ill. No, Sir, there is no real criticism in it; none fhewing the beauty of thought, as formed on the workings of the human heart." The admirers of this Effay may be offended at the flighting manner in which Johnson spoke of it; but let it be remembered, that he gave his honeft opinion, 4 + Of whom I acknowledge myself to be one, confidering it as a piece of the fecondary or comparative fpecies of criticism, and not of that profound fpecies which alone Dr. Johnson would allow to be "real criticifm." It is, befides, clearly and elegantly expreffed, and has done effectually what it professed to do, namely, vindicated Shakspeare from the mifrepresentations of Voltaire ; and 1769. opinion, unbiassed by any prejudice, or any proud jealoufy of a woman intruding herself into the chair of criticism; for Sir Joshua Reynolds has told Etat. 60. me, that when the Effay firft came out, and it was not known who had written it, Johnson wondered how Sir Joshua could like it. At this time Sir Joshua himself had received no information concerning the authour, except being affured by one of our most eminent literati, that it was clear its authour did not know the Greek tragedies in the original. One day at Sir Joshua's table, when it was related that Mrs. Montague, in an excefs of compliment to the authour of a modern tragedy, had exclaimed, "I tremble for Shakspeare;" Johnfon faid, "When Shakspeare has got - for his rival, and Mrs. Montague for his defender, he is in a poor ftate indeed." Johnson proceeded: "The Scotchman has taken the right method in his Elements of Criticifm.' I do not mean that he has taught us any thing; but he has told us old things in a new way." MURPHY. "He feems to have read a great deal of French criticism, and wants to make it his own; as if he had been for years anatomising the heart of man, and peeping into every cranny of it." GOLDSMITH. "It is easier to write that book, than to read it." JOHNSON. "We have an example of true criticism in Burke's 'Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful;' and, if I recollect, there is alfo Du Bos; and Bouhours, who fhews all beauty to depend on truth. There is no great merit in telling how many plays have ghofts in them, and how this ghoft is better than that. You must fhew how terrour is impreffed on the human heart.—In the description of night in Macbeth, the beetle and the bat detract from the general idea of darkness,—infpiffated gloom.” Politicks being mentioned, he faid, "This petitioning is a new mode of diftreffing government, and a mighty easy one. I will undertake to get petitions either against quarter guineas or half guineas, with the help of a little hot wine. There must be no yielding to encourage this. The object is not important enough. We are not to blow up half a dozen palaces, because one cottage is burning." The converfation then took another turn. JOHNSON. "It is amazing what ignorance of certain points one fometimes finds in men of eminence. A wit about town, who wrote Latin bawdy verfes, afked me, how it happened that England and Scotland, which were once two kingdoms, were now one :-and Sir and confidering how many young people were misled by his witty, though false observations, Mrs. Montague's Effay was of fervice to Shakspeare with a certain clafs of readers, and is, therefore, entitled to praise. Johnfon, I am affured, allowed the merit which I have stated, faying, (with reference to Voltaire,)" it is conclufive ad hominem,” Fletcher 1769. Etat. 60. Fletcher Norton did not feem to know that there were fuch publications as the "The ballad of Hardyknute has no great merit, if it be really ancient. People talk of nature. But mere obvious nature may be exhibited with very little power of mind." On Thursday, October 19, I paffed the evening with him at his house. He advised me to complete a Dictionary of words peculiar to Scotland, of which I fhewed him a fpecimen. "Sir, (faid he,) Ray has made a collection of north-country words. By collecting those of your country, you will do a useful thing towards the hiftory of the language." He bade me alfo go on with collections which I was making upon the antiquities of Scotland. "Make a large book; a folio." BOSWELL. "But of what ufe will it be, Sir?" JOHNSON. "Never mind the ufe; do it." I complained that he had not mentioned Garrick in his Preface to Shakfpeare; and asked him if he did not admire him. JOHNSON. "Yes, as a poor player, who frets and ftruts his hour upon the stage;—as a shadow." BOSWELL. "But has he not brought Shakspeare into notice?" JOHNSON. "Sir, to allow that, would be to lampoon the age. Many of Shakspeare's plays are the worfe for being acted: Macbeth, for inftance." BOSWELL. "What, Sir, is nothing gained by decoration and action? Indeed, I do wish that you had mentioned Garrick." JOHNSON. "My dear Sir, had I mentioned him, I must have mentioned many more: Mrs. Pritchard, Mrs. Cibber,-nay, and Mr. Cibber too; he too altered Shakspeare.' BOSWELL. "You have read his apology, Sir?" JOHNSON. "Yes, it is very entertaining. But as for Cibber himself, taking from his conversation all that he ought not to have said, he was a poor creature. I remember when he brought me one of his Odes to have my opinion of it, I could not bear fuch nonsense, and would not let him read it to the end; fo little refpect had I for that great man (laughing). Yet I remember Richardfon wondering that I could treat him with familiarity." I mentioned to him that I had feen the execution of feveral convicts at Tyburn, two days before, and that none of them feemed to be under any concern. JOHNSON. "Moft of them, Sir, have never thought at all." BOSWELL." But is not the fear of death natural to man?" JOHNSON. "So much fo, Sir, that the whole of life is but keeping away the thoughts of it." He then, in a low and earnest tone, talked of his meditating upon the aweful hour of his own diffolution, and in what manner he fhould conduct himfelf that occafion: "I know not (faid he,) whether I should wish to have a friend by me, or have it all between GoD and myself.” upon Talking Talking of our feeling for the distresses of others ;-JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, there is much noife made about it, but it is greatly exaggerated. No, Sir, we have a certain degree of feeling to prompt us to do good: more than that, Providence does not intend. It would be mifery to no purpose." BOSWELL. "But fuppofe now, Sir, that one of your intimate friends were apprehended for an offence for which he might be hanged." JOHNSON. "I fhould do what I could to bail him, and give him any other affiftance; but if he were once fairly hanged, I should not fuffer." BOSWELL. “Would you eat your dinner that day, Sir?" JOHNSON. "Yes, Sir; and eat it as if he were eating it with me. Why, there's Baretti, who is to be tried for his life to-morrow, friends have risen up for him on every fide; yet if he fhould be hanged, none of them will eat a flice of plumb-pudding the lefs. Sir, that fympathetick feeling goes a very little way in depreffing the mind." I told him that I had dined lately at Foote's, who fhewed me a letter to him from Tom Davies, telling him that he had not been able to sleep from the concern which he felt on account of this fad affair of Baretti, begging of him to try if he could fuggeft any thing that might be of service to him; and at the fame time recommending to him an industrious young man who kept a pickle-shop. JOHNSON. "Aye, Sir, here you have a fpecimen of human fympathy; a friend hanged, and a cucumber pickled. We know not whether Baretti or the pickle-man has kept Davies from fleep, nor does he know himself. And as to his not fleeping, Sir; Tom Davies is a very great man; Tom has been upon the stage, and knows how to do thofe things: I have not been upon the stage, and cannot do those things." BOSWELL. "I have often blamed myfelf, Sir, for not feeling for others as fenfibly as many fay they do." JOHNSON. "Sir, don't be duped by them any more. You will find these very feeling people are not very ready to do you good. They pay you by feeling." BOSWELL." Foote has a great deal of humour?" JOHNSON. "Yes, Sir." BOSWELL." He has a fingular talent of exhibiting character." JOHNSON. "Sir, it is not a talent, it is a vice; it is what others abftain from. It is not comedy, which exhibits the character of a species, as that of a mifer gathered from many mifers; it is farce, which exhibits individuals." BOSWELL. “Did not he think of exhibiting you, Sir?" JOHNSON. "Sir, fear reftrained him; he knew I would have broken his bones. I would have faved him the trouble of cutting off a leg; I would not have left him a leg to cut off." BOSWELL. Pray, Sir, is not Foote an infidel?" JOHNSON. "I do not know, Sir, that the fellow is an infidel; but if he be an infidel, he is an infidel as a dog 1769. tat. 60. |