our sail up the river, in our return to London, was by no means so pleasant as in the morning; for the night air was so cold that it made me shiver. I was the more sensible of it from having sat up all the night before recollecting and writing in my journal what I thought worthy of preservation; an exertion which during the first part of my acquaintance with 10 Johnson, I frequently made. I remember having sat up four nights in one week, without being much incommoded in the daytime.

Johnson, whose robust frame was not 15 in the least affected by the cold, scolded me, as if my shivering had been a paltry effeminacy, saying, 'Why.do you shiver?' Sir William Scott, of the Commons, told me that when he complained of a headache in the post-chaise, as they were traveling together to Scotland, Johnson treated him in the same manner: 'At your age, sir, I had no headache.' It is not easy to make allowance for sensations in others, which we ourselves have not at the time.

heard a woman preach. JOHNSON: Sir, a woman's preaching is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all.'

ΤΟ

On Tuesday, August 2 (the day of my departure from London having been fixed for the 5th), Dr. Johnson did me the honor to pass a part of the morning with me at my chambers. He said, 'that he to always felt an inclination to do nothing.' I observed, that it was strange to think that the most indolent man in Britain had written the most laborious work, The English Dictionary.

stories of him, and to ascribe to him very strange sayings. JOHNSON: 'What do they make me say, sir?' BOSWELL: Why, sir, as an instance very strange 5 indeed,' laughing heartily as I spoke, 'David Hume told me, you said that you would stand before a battery of cannon to restore the Convocation to its full powers.' Little did I apprehend that he had actually said this: but I was soon convinced of my error; for, with a determined look he thundered out, And would I not, sir? Shall the Presbyterian Kirk of Scotland have its General As15 sembly, and the Church of England be denied its Convocation?' He was walking up and down the room while I told him the anecdote; but, when he uttered this explosion of high-church zeal he had come close to my chair, and his eyes flashed with indignation. I bowed to the storm, and diverted the force of it, by leading him to expatiate on the influence which religion derived from maintaining the church with great external respectability.

I mentioned an imprudent publication, by a certain friend of his, at an early period of life, and asked him if he thought it would hurt him. JOHNSON: 'No, sir; not much. It may, perhaps, be mentioned 20 at an election.'

I had now made good my title to be a privileged man, and was carried by him in the evening to drink tea with Miss Williams, whom, though under the misfor-25 tune of having lost her sight, I found to be agreeable in conversation, for she had a variety of literature, and expressed herself well; but her peculiar value was the intimacy in which she had long lived with 30 Johnson, by which she was well acquainted with his habits, and knew how. to lead him on to talk.

I must not omit to mention that he this year wrote The Life of Ascham, and the Dedication to the Earl of Shaftesbury, prefixed to the edition of that writer's English works, published by Mr. Bennet.

On Friday, August 5, we set out early in the morning in the Harwich stagecoach. A fat elderly gentlewoman, and a young Dutchman, seemed the most inclined among us to conversation. At the inn where we dined, the gentlewoman said that she had done her best to educate her children; and particularly, that

After tea he carried me to what he called his walk, which was a long nar- 35 row paved court in the neighborhood, overshadowed by some trees. There we sauntered a considerable time, and I complained to him that my love of London and of his company was such, that I 40 she had never suffered them to be a shrunk almost from the thought of going away even to travel, which is generally so much desired by young men. He roused me by manly and spirited conversation. He advised me, when settled 45 in any place abroad, to study with an eagerness after knowledge, and to apply to Greek an hour every day; and when I was moving about, to read diligently the great book of mankind.

moment idle. JOHNSON: 'I wish, madam, you would educate me too; for I have been an idle fellow all my life.' ‘I am sure, sir,' said she, 'you have not been idle.' JOHNSON: Nay, madam, it is very true: and that gentleman there, pointing to me, has been idle. He was idle at Edinburgh. His father sent him to Glasgow, where he continued to be idle. 50 He then came to London, where he has been very idle; and now he is going to Utrecht, where he will be as idle as ever.' I asked him privately how he could expose me so. JOHNSON: Poh, poh!' said he, they knew nothing about you, and will think of it no more.' In the afternoon the gentlewoman talked violently

On Wednesday, August 3, we had our last social evening at the Turk's Head coffee-house, before my setting out for foreign parts. I had the misfortune, before we parted, to irritate him uninten- 55 tionally. I mentioned to him how common it was in the world to tell absurd

5

against the Roman Catholics, and of the
horrors of the inquisition. To the utter
astonishment of all the passengers but
myself, who knew that he could talk upon
any side of a question, he defended the
inquisition, and maintained that false
doctrine should be checked on its first ap-
pearance; that the civil power should
unite with the church in punishing those
who dare to attack the established re- 10
ligion, and that such only were punished
by the inquisition.' He had in his
pocket, Pomponius Mela de Situ Orbis,
in which he read occasionally, and
seemed very intent upon ancient geogra- 15
phy. Though by no means niggardly, his
attention to what was generally right was
so minute, that having observed at one of
the stages that I ostentatiously gave a
shilling to the coachman, when the custom 20
was for each passenger to give only six-
pence, he took me aside and scolded me,
saying that what I had done would make
the coachman dissatisfied with all the rest
of the passengers, who gave him no more 25
than his due.

* * *

does not mind his belly will hardly mind anything else.' He now appeared to me Jean Bull philosophe, and he was for the moment not only serious, but vehement, yet I have heard him, upon other occasions, talk with great contempt of people who were anxious to gratify their palates: and the 206th number of his Rambler is a masterly essay against gulosity. His practice, indeed, I must acknowledge, may be considered as casting the balance of his different opinions upon this subject; for I never knew any man who relished good eating more than he did. When at table he was totally absorbed in the business of the moment: his looks seemed riveted to his plate; nor would he, unless when in very high company, say one word, or even pay the least attention to what was said by others, till he had satisfied his appetite, which was so fierce, and indulged with such intenseness, that while in the act of eating, the veins of his forehead swelled, and generally a strong perspiration was visible. To those whose sensations were delicate, this could not but be disgusting; and it was doubtless not very suitable to the 30 character of a philosopher, who should be distinguished by self-command. But it must be owned that Johnson, though he could be rigidly abstemious, was not a temperate man either in eating or drinking. He could refrain, but he could not use moderately. He told me that he had fasted two days without inconvenience, and that he had never been hungry but once. They who beheld with wonder how much he ate upon all occasions, when his dinner was to his taste, could not easily conceive what he must have meant by hunger; and not only was he remarkable for the extraordinary quantity which 45 he ate, but he was, or affected to be, a man of very nice discernment in the science of cookery. He used to descant critically on the dishes which had been at table where he had dined or supped, and to recollect very minutely what he had liked. I remember when he was in Scotland, his praising 'Gordon's palates' (a dish of palates at the Honorable Alexander Gordon's) with a warmth of expression which might have done honor to more important subjects. As for Maclaurin's imitation of a made dish, it was a wretched attempt.' He about the same

Having stopped a night at Colchester, Johnson talked of that town with veneration, for having stood a siege for Charles the First. The Dutchman alone now remained with us. He spoke English tolerably well; and thinking to recommend. himself to us by expatiating on the superi- 35 ority of the criminal jurisprudence of this country over that of Holland, he inveighed against the barbarity of putting an accused person to the torture, in order to force a confession. But Johnson was 40 as ready for this as for the inquisition. 'Why, sir, you do not, I find, understand the law of your own country. To torture in Holland is considered as a favor to an accused person; for no man is put to the torture there, unless there is as much evidence against him as would amount to conviction in England. An accused person, among you, therefore, has one chance more to escape punishment than those who are tried among us.'

At supper this night he talked of good eating with uncommon satisfaction. 'Some people,' said he, have a foolish way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they eat. For my part, I mind my belly very studiously and very carefully; for I look upon it, that he who

50

some time here.' The practice of using words of disproportionate magnitude, is, no doubt, too frequent everywhere; but, I think, most remarkable among the 5 French, of which, all who have traveled in France must have been struck with innumerable instances.

We went and looked at the church, and having gone into it, and walked up to the altar, Johnson, whose piety was constant and fervent, sent me to my knees, saying, Now that you are going to leave your native country, recommend yourself to the protection of your Creator and Re

time was so much displeased with the per-
formances of a nobleman's French cook,
that he exclaimed with vehemence, 'I'd
throw such a rascal into the river;' and
he then proceeded to alarm a lady at
whose house he has to sup, by the follow-
ing manifesto of his skill:-'I, madam,
who live at a variety of good tables, am
a much better judge of cookery, than any
person who has a very tolerable cook, but 10
lives much at home; for his palate is
gradually adapted to the taste of his cook;
whereas, madam, in trying by a wider
range, I can more exquisitively judge.'
When invited to dine, even with an inti- 15 deemer.'
mate friend, he was not pleased if some-
thing better than a plain dinner was not
prepared for him. I have heard him say
on such an occasion. This was a good
dinner enough to be sure; but it was not 20
a dinner to ask a man to.' On the other
hand, he was wont to express, with great
glee, his satisfaction when he had been
entertained quite to his mind.

While we were left by ourselves, after 25 the Dutchman had gone to bed, Dr. Johnson talked of that studied behavior which many have recommended and practised. He disapproved of it; and said, 'I never

After we came out of the church, we stood talking for some time together, of Bishop Berkeley's ingenious sophistry to prove the non-existence of matter, and that everything in the universe is merely ideal. I observed that, though we are satisfied his doctrine is not true, it is impossible to refute it. I never shall forget the alacrity with which Johnson answered, striking his foot with mighty force against a large stone, till he rebounded from it, I refute it thus.'

* * *

My revered friend walked down with

considered whether I should be a grave 30 me to the beach, where we embraced and

man, or a merry man, but just let inclination, for the time, have its course.'

35

parted with tenderness, and engaged to correspond by letters. I said, 'I hope, sir, you will not forget me in my absence.' JOHNSON: Nay, sir, it is more likely you should forget me, than that I should forget you.' As the vessel put out to sea, I kept my eyes upon him for a considerable time, while he remained rolling his majestic frame in his usual manner;

Next day we got to Harwich, to dinner; and my passage in the packet boat to Helvoetsluys being secured, and my baggage put on board, we dined at our inn by ourselves. I happened to say it would be terrible if he should not find a speedy opportunity of returning to London, and be confined in so dull a place. JOHNSON: 40 and at last I perceived him walk back into

'Don't, sir, accustom yourself to use big words for little matters. It would not be terrible, though I were to be detained

the town, and he disappeared.

(1791)

EDMUND BURKE (1729-1797)

a firm

The career of Burke belongs to the history of English politics, its memorials to English literature. His father was a Dublin solicitor and a Protestant; his mother was Catholic, and he spent a part of his school days under the tuition of a Quaker. He was himself brought up a Protestant, but on this as other subjects preserved a large and open mind. He took his bachelor's degree at Trinity College, Dublin, in 1748, and later read law at the Middle Temple in London. For upwards of a decade after his removal to England, in 1750, his ambition pointed to literature. In 1756 he published A Vindication of Natural Society, an ironical imitation of Bolingbroke intended to throw ridicule upon the political theories of that writer. Burke foresaw from the first,' an English statesman of our own day has said, 'what, if rationalism were allowed to run its course, would be the really great business of the second half of his century.' The same year he printed his youthful essay On the Sublime and Beautiful and three years later became editor of Dodsley's Annual Register. But his literary abilities soon marked him out for the public service. In some way, not very well understood, his financial disability was overcome, and he entered upon a career in Parliament, making his first speech in January, 1766. His Observations on the Present State of the Nation (1769) showed his grasp of economic detail, and his pamphlet, entitled, Thoughts on the Present Discontents, the following year, for the first time exhibited the full breadth of his political philosophy. Four years later the struggle with the American colonies which had been going on ever since Burke entered Parliament had reached the stage of threatened war. It was in the debate upon this great occasion that Burke's mastery of economic detail, and his broad and lucid command of principle were welded together by his gift of passionate exposition into the three documents of political philosophy which will be cherished wherever the race flourishes in whose language they were delivered. The Speech on American Taxation was given in April, 1774, The Speech for Conciliation, March 22, 1775, and the Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol was issued in 1777. The other subjects upon which Burke distinguished himself as an orator were the Impeachment of Warren Hastings and the incidents of the French Revolution. His views in regard to the latter were such as sometimes to perplex his party and his friends and he was often almost solitary in his position. In spite of Goldsmith's accusation that he to party gave up what was meant for mankind,' Burke's gifts were not those of the successful politician. He retired from Parliament in 1794, having wielded great power at times, but having won no official position of high dignity. His achievements were such as grow more lustrous with the passage of time.

FROM THE SPEECH FOR CONCILIA-
TION WITH THE COLONIES

These, sir, are my reasons for not entertaining that high opinion of untried force, by which many gentlemen, for whose sentiments in other particulars I have great respect, seem to be so greatly captivated. But there is still behind a third consideration concerning this ob- 10 ject, which serves to determine my opinion on the sort of policy which ought to be pursued in the management of America, even more than its population and its commerce, I mean its temper and 15 character.

In this character of the Americans, a

love of freedom is the predominating feature which marks and distinguishes the whole; and as an ardent is always a jealous affection, your colonies become sus5 picious, restive, and untractable, whenever they see the least attempt to wrest from them by force or shuffle from them by chicane, what they think the only advantage worth living for. This fierce spirit of liberty is stronger in the English colonies probably than in any other people of the earth; and this from a great variety of powerful causes; which, to understand the true temper of their minds, and the direction which this spirit takes, it will not be amiss to lay open somewhat more largely.