Chapter XII: Part 12

While he pronounced this response, we sat in a comical sort of restraint, smothering a laugh, which we were afraid might burst out. In his _Life of Gay_, he has been still more decisive as to the inefficiency of _The Beggar's Opera_ in corrupting society[1099]. But I have ever thought somewhat differently; for, indeed, not only are the gaiety and heroism of a highwayman very captivating to a youthful imagination, but the arguments for adventurous depredation are so plausible, the allusions so lively, and the contrasts with the ordinary and more painful modes of acquiring property are so artfully displayed, that it requires a cool and strong judgement to resist so imposing an aggregate: yet, I own, I should be very sorry to have _The Beggar's Opera_ suppressed; for there is in it so much of real London life, so much brilliant wit, and such a variety of airs, which, from early association of ideas, engage, soothe, and enliven the mind, that no performance which the theatre exhibits, delights me more.

The late '_worthy_' Duke of Queensberry[1100], as Thomson, in his _Seasons_, justly characterises him, told me, that when Gay first shewed him _The Beggar's Opera_, his Grace's observation was, 'This is a very odd thing, Gay; I am satisfied that it is either a very good thing, or a very bad thing.' It proved the former, beyond the warmest expectations of the authour or his friends, Mr. Cambridge, however, shewed us to-day, that there was good reason enough to doubt concerning its success. He was told by Quin, that during the first night of its appearance it was long in a very dubious state; that there was a disposition to damn it, and that it was saved by the song[1101],

'Oh ponder well! be not severe!'

the audience being much affected by the innocent looks of Polly, when she came to those two lines, which exhibit at once a painful and ridiculous image,

'For on the rope that hangs my Dear, Depends poor Polly's life.'

Quin himself had so bad an opinion of it, that he refused the part of Captain Macheath, and gave it to Walker[1102], who acquired great celebrity by his grave yet animated performance of it[1103].

We talked of a young gentleman's marriage with an eminent singer[1104], and his determination that she should no longer sing in publick, though his father was very earnest she should, because her talents would be liberally rewarded, so as to make her a good fortune. It was questioned whether the young gentleman, who had not a shilling in the world[1105], but was blest with very uncommon talents, was not foolishly delicate, or foolishly proud, and his father truely rational without being mean. Johnson, with all the high spirit of a Roman senator, exclaimed, 'He resolved wisely and nobly to be sure. He is a brave man. Would not a gentleman be disgraced by having his wife singing publickly for hire? No, Sir, there can be no doubt here. I know not if I should not _prepare_ myself for a publick singer, as readily as let my wife be one.'

Johnson arraigned the modern politicks of this country, as entirely devoid of all principle of whatever kind. 'Politicks (said he) are now nothing more than means of rising in the world. With this sole view do men engage in politicks, and their whole conduct proceeds upon it. How different in that respect is the state of the nation now from what it was in the time of Charles the First, during the Usurpation, and after the Restoration, in the time of Charles the Second. _Hudibras_ affords a strong proof how much hold political principles had then upon the minds of men. There is in _Hudibras_ a great deal of bullion which will always last. But to be sure the brightest strokes of his wit owed their force to the impression of the characters, which was upon men's minds at the time; to their knowing them, at table and in the street; in short, being familiar with them; and above all, to his satire being directed against those whom a little while before they had hated and feared[1106]. The nation in general has ever been loyal, has been at all times attached to the monarch, though a few daring rebels have been wonderfully powerful for a time. The murder of Charles the First was undoubtedly not committed with the approbation or consent of the people. Had that been the case, Parliament would not have ventured to consign the regicides to their deserved punishment. And we know what exuberance of joy there was when Charles the Second was restored. If Charles the Second had bent all his mind to it, had made it his sole object, he might have been as absolute as Louis the Fourteenth.' A gentleman observed he would have done no harm if he had. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, absolute princes seldom do any harm. But they who are governed by them are governed by chance. There is no security for good government.' CAMBRIDGE. 'There have been many sad victims to absolute government.' JOHNSON. 'So, Sir, have there been to popular factions.' BOSWELL. 'The question is, which is worst, one wild beast or many?'

Johnson praised _The Spectator_, particularly the character of Sir Roger de Coverley. He said, 'Sir Roger did not die a violent death, as has been generally fancied. He was not killed; he died only because others were to die, and because his death afforded an opportunity to Addison for some very fine writing. We have the example of Cervantes making Don Quixote die[1107].--I never could see why Sir Roger is represented as a little cracked. It appears to me that the story of the widow was intended to have something superinduced upon it: but the superstructure did not come[1108].'

Somebody found fault with writing verses in a dead language, maintaining that they were merely arrangements of so many words, and laughed at the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, for sending forth collections of them not only in Greek and Latin, but even in Syriac, Arabick, and other more unknown tongues. JOHNSON. 'I would have as many of these as possible; I would have verses in every language that there are the means of acquiring. Nobody imagines that an University is to have at once two hundred poets; but it should be able to show two hundred scholars. Pieresc's[1109] death was lamented, I think, in forty languages. And I would have had at every coronation, and every death of a King, every _Gaudium_, and every _Luctus_, University-verses, in as many languages as can be acquired. I would have the world to be thus told, "Here is a school where every thing may be learnt."'

Having set out next day on a visit to the Earl of Pembroke, at Wilton[1110], and to my friend, Mr. Temple[1111], at Mamhead, in Devonshire, and not having returned to town till the second of May, I did not see Dr. Johnson for a considerable time, and during the remaining part of my stay in London, kept very imperfect notes of his conversation, which had I according to my usual custom written out at large soon after the time, much might have been preserved, which is now irretrievably lost. I can now only record some particular scenes, and a few fragments of his _memorabilia_. But to make some amends for my relaxation of diligence in one respect, I have to present my readers with arguments upon two law cases, with which he favoured me.

On Saturday, the sixth of May, we dined by ourselves at the Mitre, and he dictated to me what follows, to obviate the complaint already mentioned[1112], which had been made in the form of an action in the Court of Session, by Dr. Memis, of Aberdeen, that in the same translation of a charter in which _physicians_ were mentioned, he was called _Doctor of Medicine_.

'There are but two reasons for which a physician can decline the title of _Doctor of Medicine_, because he supposes himself disgraced by the doctorship, or supposes the doctorship disgraced by himself. To be disgraced by a title which he shares in common with every illustrious name of his profession, with Boerhaave, with Arbuthnot, and with Cullen, can surely diminish no man's reputation. It is, I suppose, to the doctorate, from which he shrinks, that he owes his right of practising physick. A doctor of Medicine is a physician under the protection of the laws, and by the stamp of authority. The physician, who is not a Doctor, usurps a profession, and is authorised only by himself to decide upon health and sickness, and life and death. That this gentleman is a Doctor, his diploma makes evident; a diploma not obtruded upon him, but obtained by solicitation, and for which fees were paid. With what countenance any man can refuse the title which he has either begged or bought, is not easily discovered.

'All verbal injury must comprise in it either some false position, or some unnecessary declaration of defamatory truth. That in calling him Doctor, a false appellation was given him, he himself will not pretend, who at the same time that he complains of the title, would be offended if we supposed him to be not a Doctor. If the title of Doctor be a defamatory truth, it is time to dissolve our colleges; for why should the publick give salaries to men whose approbation is reproach? It may likewise deserve the notice of the publick to consider what help can be given to the professors of physick, who all share with this unhappy gentleman the ignominious appellation, and of whom the very boys in the street are not afraid to say, _There goes the Doctor_.

'What is implied by the term Doctor is well known. It distinguishes him to whom it is granted, as a man who has attained such knowledge of his profession as qualifies him to instruct others. A Doctor of Laws is a man who can form lawyers by his precepts. A Doctor of Medicine is a man who can teach the art of curing diseases. There is an old axiom which no man has yet thought fit to deny, _Nil dat quod non habet_. Upon this principle to be Doctor implies skill, for _nemo docet quod non didicit_. In England, whoever practises physick, not being a Doctor, must practise by a licence: but the doctorate conveys a licence in itself.

'By what accident it happened that he and the other physicians were mentioned in different terms, where the terms themselves were equivalent, or where in effect that which was applied to him was the most honourable, perhaps they who wrote the paper cannot now remember. Had they expected a lawsuit to have been the consequence of such petty variation, I hope they would have avoided it[1113]. But, probably, as they meant no ill, they suspected no danger, and, therefore, consulted only what appeared to them propriety or convenience.'

A few days afterwards I consulted him upon a cause, _Paterson and others_ against _Alexander and others_, which had been decided by a casting vote in the Court of Session, determining that the Corporation of Stirling was corrupt, and setting aside the election of some of their officers, because it was proved that three of the leading men who influenced the majority had entered into an unjustifiable compact, of which, however, the majority were ignorant. He dictated to me, after a little consideration, the following sentences upon the subject:--

'There is a difference between majority and superiority; majority is applied to number, and superiority to power; and power, like many other things, is to be estimated _non numero sed pondere_. Now though the greater _number_ is not corrupt, the greater _weight_ is corrupt, so that corruption predominates in the borough, taken _collectively_, though, perhaps, taken _numerically_, the greater part may be uncorrupt. That borough, which is so constituted as to act corruptly, is in the eye of reason corrupt, whether it be by the uncontrolable power of a few, or by an accidental pravity of the multitude. The objection, in which is urged the injustice of making the innocent suffer with the guilty, is an objection not only against society, but against the possibility of society. All societies, great and small, subsist upon this condition; that as the individuals derive advantages from union, they may likewise suffer inconveniences; that as those who do nothing, and sometimes those who do ill, will have the honours and emoluments of general virtue and general prosperity, so those likewise who do nothing, or perhaps do well, must be involved in the consequences of predominant corruption.'

This in my opinion was a very nice case; but the decision was affirmed in the House of Lords.

On Monday, May 8, we went together and visited the mansions of Bedlam[1114]. I had been informed that he had once been there before with Mr. Wedderburne, (now Lord Loughborough,) Mr. Murphy, and Mr. Foote; and I had heard Foote give a very entertaining account of Johnson's happening to have his attention arrested by a man who was very furious, and who, while beating his straw[1115], supposed it was William Duke of Cumberland, whom he was punishing for his cruelties in Scotland, in 1746[1116]. There was nothing peculiarly remarkable this day; but the general contemplation of insanity was very affecting. I accompanied him home, and dined and drank tea with him.

Talking of an acquaintance of ours[1117], distinguished for knowing an uncommon variety of miscellaneous articles both in antiquities and polite literature, he observed, 'You know, Sir, he runs about with little weight upon his mind.' And talking of another very ingenious gentleman[1118], who from the warmth of his temper was at variance with many of his acquaintance, and wished to avoid them, he said, 'Sir, he leads the life of an outlaw.'

On Friday, May 12[1119], as he had been so good as to assign me a room in his house, where I might sleep occasionally, when I happened to sit with him to a late hour, I took possession of it this night, found every thing in excellent order, and was attended by honest Francis with a most civil assiduity. I asked Johnson whether I might go to a consultation with another lawyer upon Sunday, as that appeared to me to be doing work as much in my way, as if an artisan should work on the day appropriated for religious rest. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, when you are of consequence enough to oppose the practice of consulting upon Sunday, you should do it: but you may go now. It is not criminal, though it is not what one should do, who is anxious for the preservation and increase of piety, to which a peculiar observance of Sunday is a great help. The distinction is clear between what is of moral and what is of ritual obligation.'

On Saturday, May 13, I breakfasted with him by invitation, accompanied by Mr. Andrew Crosbie[1120], a Scotch Advocate, whom he had seen at Edinburgh, and the Hon. Colonel (now General) Edward Stopford, brother to Lord Courtown, who was desirous of being introduced to him. His tea and rolls and butter, and whole breakfast apparatus were all in such decorum, and his behaviour was so courteous, that Colonel Stopford was quite surprised, and wondered at his having heard so much said of Johnson's slovenliness and roughness. I have preserved nothing of what passed, except that Crosbie pleased him much by talking learnedly of alchymy, as to which Johnson was not a positive unbeliever, but rather delighted in considering what progress had actually been made in the transmutation of metals, what near approaches there had been to the making of gold; and told us that it was affirmed, that a person in the Russian dominions had discovered the secret, but died without revealing it, as imagining it would be prejudicial to society. He added, that it was not impossible but it might in time be generally known.

It being asked whether it was reasonable for a man to be angry at another whom a woman had preferred to him;--JOHNSON. 'I do not see, Sir, that it is reasonable for a man to be angry at another, whom a woman has preferred to him: but angry he is, no doubt; and he is loath to be angry at himself.'

Before setting out for Scotland on the 23rd[1121], I was frequently in his company at different places, but during this period have recorded only two remarks: one concerning Garrick: 'He has not Latin enough. He finds out the Latin by the meaning rather than the meaning by the Latin[1122].' And another concerning writers of travels, who, he observed, 'were more defective than any other writers[1123].'

I passed many hours with him on the 17th[1124], of which I find all my memorial is, 'much laughing.' It should seem he had that day been in a humour for jocularity and merriment, and upon such occasions I never knew a man laugh more heartily. We may suppose, that the high relish of a state so different from his habitual gloom, produced more than ordinary exertions of that distinguishing faculty of man, which has puzzled philosophers so much to explain[1125]. Johnson's laugh was as remarkable as any circumstance in his manner. It was a kind of good humoured growl. Tom Davies described it drolly enough: 'He laughs like a rhinoceros.'

'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'I have an old amanuensis[1126] in great distress. I have given what I think I can give, and begged till I cannot tell where to beg again. I put into his hands this morning four guineas. If you could collect three guineas more, it would clear him from his present difficulty.

'I am, Sir, 'Your most humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'May 21, 1775.'

'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'I make no doubt but you are now safely lodged in your own habitation, and have told all your adventures to Mrs. Boswell and Miss Veronica. Pray teach Veronica to love me. Bid her not mind mamma.

'Mrs. Thrale has taken cold, and been very much disordered, but I hope is grown well. Mr. Langton went yesterday to Lincolnshire, and has invited Nicolaida[1127] to follow him. Beauclerk talks of going to Bath. I am to set out on Monday; so there is nothing but dispersion.

'I have returned Lord Hailes's entertaining sheets[1128], but must stay till I come back for more, because it will be inconvenient to send them after me in my vagrant state.

'I promised Mrs. Macaulay[1129] that I would try to serve her son at Oxford. I have not forgotten it, nor am unwilling to perform it. If they desire to give him an English education, it should be considered whether they cannot send him for a year or two to an English school. If he comes immediately from Scotland, he can make no figure in our Universities. The schools in the north, I believe, are cheap; and, when I was a young man, were eminently good.

'There are two little books published by the Foulis[1130], Telemachus and Collins's _Poems_, each a shilling: I would be glad to have them.

'Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, though she does not love me. You see what perverse things ladies are, and how little fit to be trusted with feudal estates. When she mends and loves me, there may be more hope of her daughters.

'I will not send compliments to my friends by name, because I would be loath to leave any out in the enumeration. Tell them, as you see them, how well I speak of Scotch politeness, and Scotch hospitality, and Scotch beauty, and of every thing Scotch, but Scotch oat-cakes, and Scotch prejudices.

'Let me know the answer of Rasay[1131], and the decision relating to Sir Allan[1132].

'I am, my dearest Sir, with great affection, 'Your most obliged, and 'Most humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'May 27, 1775.'

After my return to Scotland, I wrote three letters to him, from which I extract the following passages:--

'I have seen Lord Hailes since I came down. He thinks it wonderful that you are pleased to take so much pains in revising his _Annals_. I told him that you said you were well rewarded by the entertainment which you had in reading them.'

'There has been a numerous flight of Hebrideans in Edinburgh this summer, whom I have been happy to entertain at my house. Mr. Donald Macqueen[1133] and Lord Monboddo supped with me one evening. They joined in controverting your proposition, that the Gaelick of the Highlands and Isles of Scotland was not written till of late.'

'My mind has been somewhat dark this summer[1134]. I have need of your warming and vivifying rays; and I hope I shall have them frequently. I am going to pass some time with my father at Auchinleck.'

'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'I am returned from the annual ramble into the middle counties[1135]. Having seen nothing I had not seen before, I have nothing to relate. Time has left that part of the island few antiquities; and commerce has left the people no singularities. I was glad to go abroad, and, perhaps, glad to come home; which is, in other words, I was, I am afraid, weary of being at home, and weary of being abroad. Is not this the state of life? But, if we confess this weariness, let us not lament it, for all the wise and all the good say, that we may cure it.

'For the black fumes which rise in your mind, I can prescribe nothing but that you disperse them by honest business or innocent pleasure, and by reading, sometimes easy and sometimes serious. Change of place is useful; and I hope that your residence at Auchinleck will have many good effects[1136].

'That I should have given pain to Rasay, I am sincerely sorry; and am therefore very much pleased that he is no longer uneasy. He still thinks that I have represented him as personally giving up the Chieftainship. I meant only that it was no longer contested between the two houses, and supposed it settled, perhaps, by the cession of some remote generation, in the house of Dunvegan. I am sorry the advertisement was not continued for three or four times in the paper.

'That Lord Monboddo and Mr. Macqueen should controvert a position contrary to the imaginary interest of literary or national prejudice, might be easily imagined; but of a standing fact there ought to be no controversy: If there are men with tails, catch an _homo caudatus_; if there was writing of old in the Highlands or Hebrides, in the Erse language, produce the manuscripts. Where men write, they will write to one another, and some of their letters, in families studious of their ancestry, will be kept. In Wales there are many manuscripts.

'I have now three parcels of Lord Hailes's history, which I purpose to return all the next week: that his respect for my little observations should keep his work in suspense, makes one of the evils of my journey. It is in our language, I think, a new mode of history, which tells all that is wanted, and, I suppose, all that is known, without laboured splendour of language, or affected subtilty of conjecture. The exactness of his dates raises my wonder. He seems to have the closeness of Henault[1137] without his constraint.

'Mrs. Thrale was so entertained with your _Journal_[1138], that she almost read herself blind. She has a great regard for you.

'Of Mrs. Boswell, though she knows in her heart that she does not love me, I am always glad to hear any good, and hope that she and the little dear ladies will have neither sickness nor any other affliction. But she knows that she does not care what becomes of me, and for that she may be sure that I think her very much to blame.

'Never, my dear Sir, do you take it into your head to think that I do not love you; you may settle yourself in full confidence both of my love and my esteem; I love you as a kind man, I value you as a worthy man, and hope in time to reverence you as a man of exemplary piety. I hold you, as Hamlet has it, 'in my heart of hearts[1139],' and therefore, it is little to say, that I am, Sir,

'Your affectionate humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'London, Aug. 27, 1775.'

TO THE SAME.

'SIR,

'If in these papers[1140] there is little alteration attempted, do not suppose me negligent. I have read them perhaps more closely than the rest; but I find nothing worthy of an objection.

'Write to me soon, and write often, and tell me all your honest heart.

'I am Sir, 'Yours affectionately, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Aug. 30, 1775.'

TO THE SAME.

'MY DEAR SIR,

'I now write to you, lest in some of your freaks and humours you should fancy yourself neglected. Such fancies I must entreat you never to admit, at least never to indulge: for my regard for you is so radicated and fixed, that it is become part of my mind, and cannot be effaced but by some cause uncommonly violent; therefore, whether I write or not, set your thoughts at rest. I now write to tell you that I shall not very soon write again, for I am to set out to-morrow on another journey.

* * * * *

'Your friends are all well at Streatham, and in Leicester-fields[1141]. Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, if she is in good humour with me.

'I am, Sir, &c. 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'September 14, 1775.'

What he mentions in such light terms as, 'I am to set out to-morrow on another journey,' I soon afterwards discovered was no less than a tour to France with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. This was the only time in his life that he went upon the Continent.

'To MR. ROBERT LEVET.

'Sept. 18[1142], 1775. Calais.

'DEAR SIR,

'We are here in France, after a very pleasing passage of no more than six hours. I know not when I shall write again, and therefore I write now, though you cannot suppose that I have much to say. You have seen France yourself[1143]. From this place we are going to Rouen, and from Rouen to Paris, where Mr. Thrale designs to stay about five or six weeks. We have a regular recommendation to the English resident, so we shall not be taken for vagabonds. We think to go one way and return another, and for [?see] as much as we can. I will try to speak a little French[1144]; I tried hitherto but little, but I spoke sometimes. If I heard better, I suppose I should learn faster. I am, Sir,

'Your humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

To THE SAME.

'Paris, Oct. 22, 1775.

'DEAR SIR,

'We are still here, commonly very busy in looking about us. We have been to-day at Versailles. You have seen it, and I shall not describe it. We came yesterday from Fontainbleau, where the Court is now. We went to see the King and Queen at dinner, and the Queen was so impressed by Miss[1145], that she sent one of the Gentlemen to enquire who she was. I find all true that you have ever told me of Paris. Mr. Thrale is very liberal, and keeps us two coaches, and a very fine table; but I think our cookery very bad[1146]. Mrs. Thrale got into a convent of English nuns, and I talked with her through the grate, and I am very kindly used by the English Benedictine friars. But upon the whole I cannot make much acquaintance here; and though the churches, palaces, and some private houses are very magnificent, there is no very great pleasure after having seen many, in seeing more; at least the pleasure, whatever it be, must some time have an end, and we are beginning to think when we shall come home. Mr. Thrale calculates that, as we left Streatham on the fifteenth of September, we shall see it again about the fifteenth of November.

'I think I had not been on this side of the sea five days before I found a sensible improvement in my health. I ran a race in the rain this day, and beat Baretti. Baretti is a fine fellow, and speaks French, I think, quite as well as English[1147].

'Make my compliments to Mrs. Williams; and give my love to Francis; and tell my friends that I am not lost.

I am, dear Sir,

'Your affectionate humble, &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.

'Edinburgh, Oct. 24, 1775.

'MY DEAR SIR,

'If I had not been informed that you were at Paris, you should have had a letter from me by the earliest opportunity, announcing the birth of my son, on the 9th instant; I have named him Alexander[1148], after my father. I now write, as I suppose your fellow traveller, Mr. Thrale, will return to London this week, to attend his duty in Parliament, and that you will not stay behind him.

'I send another parcel of Lord Hailes's _Annals_, I have undertaken to solicit you for a favour to him, which he thus requests in a letter to me: "I intend soon to give you _The Life of Robert Bruce_, which you will be pleased to transmit to Dr. Johnson. I wish that you could assist me in a fancy which I have taken, of getting Dr. Johnson to draw a character of Robert Bruce, from the account that I give of that prince. If he finds materials for it in my work, it will be a proof that I have been fortunate in selecting the most striking incidents."

'I suppose by _The Life of Robert Bruce_, his Lordship means that part of his _Annals_ which relates the history of that prince, and not a separate work.

'Shall we have _A Journey to Paris_ from you in the winter? You will, I hope, at any rate be kind enough to give me some account of your French travels very soon, for I am very impatient. What a different scene have you viewed this autumn, from that which you viewed in autumn 1773! I ever am, my dear Sir,

'Your much obliged and 'Affectionate humble servant, 'JAMES BOSWELL.'

'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'I am glad that the young Laird is born, and an end, as I hope, put to the only difference that you can ever have with Mrs. Boswell[1149]. I know that she does not love me; but I intend to persist in wishing her well till I get the better of her.

'Paris is, indeed, a place very different from the Hebrides, but it is to a hasty traveller not so fertile of novelty, nor affords so many opportunities of remark. I cannot pretend to tell the publick any thing of a place better known to many of my readers than to myself. We can talk of it when we meet.

'I shall go next week to Streatham, from whence I purpose to send a parcel of the _History_ every post. Concerning the character of Bruce, I can only say, that I do not see any great reason for writing it; but I shall not easily deny what Lord Hailes and you concur in desiring.

'I have been remarkably healthy all the journey, and hope you and your family have known only that trouble and danger which has so happily terminated. Among all the congratulations that you may receive, I hope you believe none more warm or sincere, than those of, dear Sir,

'Your most affectionate, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'November 16, 1775[1150].'

'TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD[1151].

'DEAR MADAM,

'This week I came home from Paris. I have brought you a little box, which I thought pretty; but I know not whether it is properly a snuff-box, or a box for some other use. I will send it, when I can find an opportunity. I have been through the whole journey remarkably well. My fellow-travellers were the same whom you saw at Lichfield[1152], only we took Baretti with us. Paris is not so fine a place as you would expect. The palaces and churches, however, are very splendid and magnificent; and what would please you, there are many very fine pictures; but I do not think their way of life commodious or pleasant[1153].

'Let me know how your health has been all this while. I hope the fine summer has given you strength sufficient to encounter the winter.

'Make my compliments to all my friends; and, if your fingers will let you, write to me, or let your maid write, if it be troublesome to you. I am, dear Madam,

'Your most affectionate humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'November 16, 1775.'

TO THE SAME.

'DEAR MADAM,

'Some weeks ago I wrote to you, to tell you that I was just come home from a ramble, and hoped that I should have heard from you. I am afraid winter has laid hold on your fingers, and hinders you from writing. However, let somebody write, if you cannot, and tell me how you do, and a little of what has happened at Lichfield among our friends. I hope you are all well.

'When I was in France, I thought myself growing young, but am afraid that cold weather will take part of my new vigour from me. Let us, however, take care of ourselves, and lose no part of our health by negligence.

'I never knew whether you received the _Commentary on the New Testament_ and the _Travels_, and the glasses.

'Do, my dear love, write to me; and do not let us forget each other. This is the season of good wishes, and I wish you all good. I have not lately seen Mr. Porter[1154], nor heard of him. Is he with you?

'Be pleased to make my compliments to Mrs. Adey, and Mrs. Cobb, and all my friends; and when I can do any good, let me know.

'I am, dear Madam, 'Yours most affectionately, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'December, 1775.'

It is to be regretted that he did not write an account of his travels in France; for as he is reported to have once said, that 'he could write the Life of a Broomstick[1155],' so, notwithstanding so many former travellers have exhausted almost every subject for remark in that great kingdom, his very accurate observation, and peculiar vigour of thought and illustration, would have produced a valuable work. During his visit to it, which lasted but about two months, he wrote notes or minutes of what he saw. He promised to show me them, but I neglected to put him in mind of it; and the greatest part of them has been lost, or perhaps, destroyed in a precipitate burning of his papers a few days before his death, which must ever be lamented. One small paper-book, however, entitled 'FRANCE II,' has been preserved, and is in my possession. It is a diurnal register of his life and observations, from the 10th of October to the 4th of November, inclusive, being twenty-six days, and shows an extraordinary attention to various minute particulars. Being the only memorial of this tour that remains, my readers, I am confident, will peruse it with pleasure, though his notes are very short, and evidently written only to assist his own recollection.

'Oct. 10. Tuesday. We saw the _Ecole Militaire_, in which one hundred and fifty young boys are educated for the army. They have arms of different sizes, according to the age;--flints of wood. The building is very large, but nothing fine, except the council-room. The French have large squares in the windows;--they make good iron palisades. Their meals are gross.

'We visited the Observatory, a large building of a great height. The upper stones of the parapet very large, but not cramped with iron. The flat on the top is very extensive; but on the insulated part there is no parapet. Though it was broad enough, I did not care to go upon it. Maps were printing in one of the rooms.

'We walked to a small convent of the Fathers of the Oratory. In the reading-desk of the refectory lay the lives of the Saints.

'Oct. 11. Wednesday. We went to see _Hotel de Chatlois_[1156], a house not very large, but very elegant. One of the rooms was gilt to a degree that I never saw before. The upper part for servants and their masters was pretty.

'Thence we went to Mr. Monville's, a house divided into small apartments, furnished with effeminate and minute elegance.--Porphyry.

'Thence we went to St. Roque's church, which is very large;--the lower part of the pillars incrusted with marble.--Three chapels behind the high altar;--the last a mass of low arches.--Altars, I believe, all round.

'We passed through _Place de VendA'me_, a fine square, about as big as Hanover-square.--Inhabited by the high families.--Lewis XIV. on horse-back in the middle.

'Monville is the son of a farmer-general. In the house of Chatlois is a room furnished with japan, fitted up in Europe.

'We dined with Boccage[1157], the Marquis Blanchetti, and his lady.--The sweetmeats taken by the Marchioness Blanchetti, after observing that they were dear.--Mr. Le Roy, Count Manucci, the AbbA(C), the Prior[1158], and Father Wilson, who staid with me, till I took him home in the coach.

'Bathiani is gone.

'The French have no laws for the maintenance of their poor.--Monk not necessarily a priest.--Benedictines rise at four; are at church an hour and half; at church again half an hour before, half an hour after, dinner; and again from half an hour after seven to eight. They may sleep eight hours.--Bodily labour wanted in monasteries.

'The poor taken to hospitals, and miserably kept.--Monks in the convent fifteen:--accounted poor.

'Oct. 12. Thursday. We went to the Gobelins.--Tapestry makes a good picture;--imitates flesh exactly.--One piece with a gold ground;--the birds not exactly coloured.--Thence we went to the King's cabinet;--very neat, not, perhaps, perfect.--Gold ore.--Candles of the candle-tree.-- Seeds.--Woods. Thence to Gagnier's house, where I saw rooms nine, furnished with a profusion of wealth and elegance which I never had seen before.--Vases.--Pictures.--The Dragon china.--The lustre said to be of crystal, and to have cost 3,500AL.--The whole furniture said to have cost 125,000AL.--Damask hangings covered with pictures.--Porphyry.--This house struck me.--Then we waited on the ladies to Monville's.--Captain Irwin with us[1159].--Spain. County towns all beggars.--At Dijon he could not find the way to Orleans.--Cross roads of France very bad.--Five soldiers.--Woman.--Soldiers escaped.--The Colonel would not lose five men for the death of one woman.--The magistrate cannot seize a soldier but by the Colonel's permission.--Good inn at Nismes.--Moors of Barbary fond of Englishmen.--Gibraltar eminently healthy;--It has beef from Barbary;--There is a large garden.--Soldiers sometimes fall from the rock.

'Oct. 13. Friday. I staid at home all day, only went to find the Prior, who was not at home.--I read something in Canus[1160].--_Nec admiror, nec multum laudo_.

Oct. 14. Saturday. We went to the house of Mr. Argenson, which was almost wainscotted with looking-glasses, and covered with gold.--The ladies' closet wainscotted with large squares of glass over painted paper. They always place mirrours to reflect their rooms.

'Then we went to Julien's, the Treasurer of the Clergy:--30,000AL a year.--The house has no very large room, but is set with mirrours, and covered with gold.--Books of wood here, and in another library.

'At D----'s[1161] I looked into the books in the lady's closet, and, in contempt, shewed them to Mr. T.--_Prince Titi_[1162]; _Bibl. des FA(C)es_, and other books.--She was offended, and shut up, as we heard afterwards, her apartment.

'Then we went to Julien Le Roy, the King's watch-maker, a man of character in his business, who shewed a small clock made to find the longitude[1163].--A decent man.

'Afterwards we saw the _Palais Marchand_[1164], and the Courts of Justice, civil and criminal.--Queries on the _Sellette_[1165].--This building has the old Gothick passages, and a great appearance of antiquity.--Three hundred prisoners sometimes in the gaol[1166].

'Much disturbed; hope no ill will be[1167].

'In the afternoon I visited Mr. Freron the journalist[1168]. He spoke Latin very scantily, but seemed to understand me.--His house not splendid, but of commodious size.--His family, wife, son, and daughter, not elevated but decent.--I was pleased with my reception.--He is to translate my books, which I am to send him with notes.

'Oct. 15. Sunday. At Choisi, a royal palace on the banks of the Seine, about 7m. from Paris.--The terrace noble along the river.--The rooms numerous and grand, but not discriminated from other palaces.--The chapel beautiful, but small.--China globes.--Inlaid tables.--Labyrinth. --Sinking table[1169].--Toilet tables.

'Oct. 16. Monday. The Palais Royal very grand, large, and lofty.--A very great collection of pictures.--Three of Raphael.--Two Holy Family.--One small piece of M. Angelo.--One room of Rubens--I thought the pictures of Raphael fine[1170].

'The Thuilleries.--Statues.--Venus.--Aen. and Anchises in his arms.--Nilus.--Many more. The walks not open to mean persons.--Chairs at night hired for two sous apiece.--Pont tournant[1171].

'Austin Nuns.--Grate.--Mrs. Fermor, Abbess[1172].--She knew Pope, and thought him disagreeable.--Mrs. ------- has many books[1173];--has seen life.--Their frontlet disagreeable.--Their hood.--Their life easy.--Rise about five; hour and half in chapel.--Dine at ten.--Another hour and half at chapel; half an hour about three, and half an hour more at seven:--four hours in chapel.--A large garden.--Thirteen pensioners[1174].--Teacher complained.

'At the Boulevards saw nothing, yet was glad to be there.--Rope-dancing and farce.--Egg dance.

'N. [Note.] Near Paris, whether on week-days or Sundays, the roads empty.

'Oct. 17, Tuesday. At the Palais Marchand I bought

A snuff-box[1175], 24 L.
------------- 6
Table book 15
Scissars 3 p [pair] 18
----
63--2 12 6[1176]

'We heard the lawyers plead.--N. As many killed at Paris as there are days in the year. _Chambre de question_[1177].--Tournelle[1178] at the Palais Marchand.--An old venerable building.

'The Palais Bourbon, belonging to the Prince of CondA(C). Only one small wing shown;--lofty;--splendid;--gold and glass.--The battles of the great CondA(C) are painted in one of the rooms. The present Prince a grandsire at thirty-nine[1179].

'The sight of palaces, and other great buildings, leaves no very distinct images, unless to those who talk of them. As I entered, my wife was in my mind[1180]: she would have been pleased. Having now nobody to please, I am little pleased.

'N. In France there is no middle rank[1181].

'So many shops open, that Sunday is little distinguished at Paris.--The palaces of Louvre and Thuilleries granted out in lodgings.

'In the _Palais de Bourbon_, gilt globes of metal at the fire-place.

'The French beds commended.--Much of the marble, only paste.

'The Colosseum a mere wooden building, at least much of it.

'Oct. 18. Wednesday. We went to Fontainebleau, which we found a large mean town, crowded with people.--The forest thick with woods, very extensive.--Manucci[1182] secured us lodgings.--The appearance of the country pleasant. No hills, few streams, only one hedge.--I remember no chapels nor crosses on the road.--Pavement still, and rows of trees.

'N. Nobody but mean people walk in Paris[1183].

'Oct. 19. Thursday. At Court, we saw the apartments;--the King's bed-chamber and council-chamber extremely splendid--Persons of all ranks in the external rooms through which the family passes:--servants and masters.--Brunet with us the second time.

'The introductor came to us;--civil to me.--Presenting.--I had scruples.--Not necessary.--We went and saw the King[1184] and Queen at dinner.--We saw the other ladies at dinner--Madame Elizabeth[1185], with the Princess of GuimenA(C).--At night we went to a comedy. I neither saw nor heard.--Drunken women.--Mrs. Th. preferred one to the other.

'Oct. 20. Friday. We saw the Queen mount in the forest--Brown habit; rode aside: one lady rode aside.--The Queen's horse light grey; martingale.--She galloped.--We then went to the apartments, and admired them.--Then wandered through the palace.--In the passages, stalls and shops.--Painting in Fresco by a great master, worn out.--We saw the King's horses and dogs.--The dogs almost all English.--Degenerate.

'The horses not much commended.--The stables cool; the kennel filthy.

'At night the ladies went to the opera. I refused, but should have been welcome.

'The King fed himself with his left hand as we.

'Saturday, 21. In the night I got ground.--We came home to Paris.--I think we did not see the chapel.--Tree broken by the wind.--The French chairs made all of boards painted.

N. Soldiers at the court of justice.--Soldiers not amenable to the magistrates.--Dijon woman[1186].

'Faggots in the palace.--Every thing slovenly, except in the chief rooms.--Trees in the roads, some tall, none old, many very young and small.

'Women's saddles seem ill made.--Queen's bridle woven with silver.--Tags to strike the horse.

'Sunday, Oct. 22. To Versailles[1187], a mean town. Carriages of business passing.--Mean shops against the wall.--Our way lay through SA¬ve, where the China manufacture.--Wooden bridge at SA¬ve, in the way to Versailles.--The palace of great extent.--The front long; I saw it not perfectly.--The Menagerie. Cygnets dark; their black feet; on the ground; tame.--Halcyons, or gulls.--Stag and hind, young.--Aviary, very large; the net, wire.--Black stag of China, small.--Rhinoceros, the horn broken and pared away, which, I suppose, will grow; the basis, I think, four inches 'cross; the skin folds like loose cloth doubled over his body, and cross his hips; a vast animal, though young; as big, perhaps, as four oxen.--The young elephant, with his tusks just appearing.--The brown bear put out his paws;--all very tame.--The lion.--The tigers I did not well view.--The camel, or dromedary with two bunches called the Huguin[1188], taller than any horse.--Two camels with one bunch.--Among the birds was a pelican, who being let out, went to a fountain, and swam about to catch fish. His feet well webbed: he dipped his head, and turned his long bill sidewise. He caught two or three fish, but did not eat them.

'Trianon is a kind of retreat appendant to Versailles. It has an open portico; the pavement, and, I think, the pillars, of marble.--There are many rooms, which I do not distinctly remember--A table of porphyry, about five feet long, and between two and three broad, given to Louis XIV. by the Venetian State.--In the council-room almost all that was not door or window, was, I think, looking-glass.--Little Trianon is a small palace like a gentleman's house.--The upper floor paved with brick.--Little Vienne.--The court is ill paved.--The rooms at the top are small, fit to sooth the imagination with privacy. In the front of Versailles are small basons of water on the terrace, and other basons, I think, below them. There are little courts.--The great gallery is wainscotted with mirrors, not very large, but joined by frames. I suppose the large plates were not yet made.--The play-house was very large.--The chapel I do not remember if we saw--We saw one chapel, but I am not certain whether there or at Trianon.--The foreign office paved with bricks.--The dinner half a Louis each, and, I think, a Louis over.--Money given at Menagerie, three livres; at palace, six livres.

'Oct. 23. Monday. Last night I wrote to Levet.--We went to see the looking-glasses wrought. They come from Normandy in cast plates, perhaps the third of an inch thick. At Paris they are ground upon a marble table, by rubbing one plate upon another with grit between them. The various sands, of which there are said to be five, I could not learn. The handle, by which the upper glass is moved, has the form of a wheel, which may be moved in all directions. The plates are sent up with their surfaces ground, but not polished, and so continue till they are bespoken, lest time should spoil the surface, as we were told. Those that are to be polished, are laid on a table, covered with several thick cloths, hard strained, that the resistance may be equal; they are then rubbed with a hand rubber, held down hard by a contrivance which I did not well understand. The powder which is used last seemed to me to be iron dissolved in aqua fortis: they called it, as Baretti said, _marc de beau forte_, which he thought was dregs. They mentioned vitriol and salt-petre. The cannon ball swam in the quicksilver. To silver them, a leaf of beaten tin is laid, and rubbed with quicksilver, to which it unites. Then more quicksilver is poured upon it, which, by its mutual [attraction] rises very high. Then a paper is laid at the nearest end of the plate, over which the glass is slided till it lies upon the plate, having driven much of the quicksilver before it. It is then, I think, pressed upon cloths, and then set sloping to drop the superfluous mercury; the slope is daily heightened towards a perpendicular.

'In the way I saw the Greve, the Mayor's house, and the Bastile.[1189]

'We then went to Sans-terre, a brewer. He brews with about as much malt as Mr. Thrale, and sells his beer at the same price, though he pays no duty for malt, and little more than half as much for beer. Beer is sold retail at 6d. a bottle. He brews 4,000 barrels a year. There are seventeen brewers in Paris, of whom none is supposed to brew more than he:--reckoning them at 3,000 each, they make 51,000 a year.--They make their malt, for malting is here no trade. The moat of the Bastile is dry.

'Oct. 24, Tuesday. We visited the King's library--I saw the _Speculum humanae Salvationis_, rudely printed, with ink, sometimes pale, sometimes black; part supposed to be with wooden types, and part with pages cut on boards.--The Bible, supposed to be older than that of Mentz, in 62[1190]: it has no date; it is supposed to have been printed with wooden types.--I am in doubt; the print is large and fair, in two folios.--Another book was shown me, supposed to have been printed with wooden types;--I think, _Durandi Sanctuarium_[1191] in 58. This is inferred from the difference of form sometimes seen in the same letter, which might be struck with different puncheons.--The regular similitude of most letters proves better that they are metal.--I saw nothing but the _Speculum_ which I had not seen, I think, before.

'Thence to the Sorbonne.--The library very large, not in lattices like the King's. _Marbone_ and _Durandi_, q. collection 14 vol. _Scriptores de rebus Gallicis_, many folios.--_Histoire GA(C)nA(C)alogique of France_, 9 vol.--_Gallia Christiana_, the first edition, 4to. the last, f. 12 vol.--The Prior and Librarian dined [with us]:--I waited on them home.--Their garden pretty, with covered walks, but small; yet may hold many students.--The Doctors of the Sorbonne are all equal:--choose those who succeed to vacancies.--Profit little.

'Oct. 25. Wednesday. I went with the Prior to St. Cloud, to see Dr. Hooke.--We walked round the palace, and had some talk.--I dined with our whole company at the Monastery.--In the library,_Beroald_,--_Cymon_,-- _Titus_, from Boccace.--_Oratio Proverbialis_ to the Virgin, from Petrarch; Falkland to Sandys; Dryden's Preface to the third vol. of Miscellanies[1192].

'Oct. 26. Thursday. We saw the china at SA¬ve, cut, glazed, painted. Bellevue, a pleasing house, not great: fine prospect.--Meudon, an old palace.--Alexander, in Porphyry: hollow between eyes and nose, thin cheeks.--Plato and Aristotle--Noble terrace overlooks the town.--St. Cloud.--Gallery not very high, nor grand, but pleasing.--In the rooms, Michael Angelo, drawn by himself, Sir Thomas More, Des Cartes, Bochart, Naudacus, Mazarine.--Gilded wainscot, so common that it is not minded.--Gough and Keene.--Hooke came to us at the inn.--A message from Drumgold.

'Oct. 27. Friday. I staid at home.--Gough and Keene, and Mrs. S----'s friend dined with us.--This day we began to have a fire.--The weather is grown very cold, and I fear, has a bad effect upon my breath, which has grown much more free and easy in this country.

'Sat. Oct. 28. I visited the Grand Chartreux built by St. Louis.--It is built for forty, but contains only twenty-four, and will not maintain more. The friar that spoke to us had a pretty apartment[1193].--Mr. Baretti says four rooms; I remember but three.--His books seemed to be French.--His garden was neat; he gave me grapes.--We saw the Place de Victoire, with the statues of the King, and the captive nations.

We saw the palace and gardens of Luxembourg, but the gallery was shut.--We climbed to the top stairs.--I dined with Colbrooke, who had much company:--Foote, Sir George Rodney, Motteux, Udson, Taaf.--Called on the Prior, and found him in bed.

'Hotel--a guinea a day.--Coach, three guineas a week.--Valet de place[1194], three l.[1195] a day.--_Avantcoureur_, a guinea a week.-- Ordinary dinner, six l. a head.--Our ordinary seems to be about five guineas a day.--Our extraordinary expences, as diversions, gratuities, clothes, I cannot reckon.--Our travelling is ten guineas a day.

'White stockings, 18 l.--Wig.--Hat.

'Sunday, Oct. 29. We saw the boarding-school.--The _Enfans trouvA(C)s_ [1196].--A room with about eighty-six children in cradles, as sweet as a parlour.--They lose a third[1197]; take in to perhaps more than seven [years old]; put them to trades; pin to them the papers sent with them. --Want nurses.--Saw their chapel.

'Went to St. Eustatia; saw an innumerable company of girls catechised, in many bodies, perhaps 100 to a catechist.--Boys taught at one time, girls at another.--The sermon; the preacher wears a cap, which he takes off at the name:--his action uniform, not very violent.

'Oct. 30. Monday. We saw the library of St. Germain[1198].--A very noble collection.--_Codex Divinorum Officiorum_, 1459:--a letter, square like that of the _Offices_, perhaps the same.--The _Codex_, by Fust and Gernsheym.--_Meursius_, 12 v. fol.--_Amadis_, in French, 3 v. fol.-- CATHOLICON _sine colophone_, but of 1460.--Two other editions[1199], one by ... _Augustin. de Civitate Dei_, without name, date, or place, but of Fust's square letter as it seems.

'I dined with Col. Drumgold;--had a pleasing afternoon.

'Some of the books of St. Germain's stand in presses from the wall, like those at Oxford.