I stated the character of a noble friend of mine, as a curious case for his opinion:—
'He is the most inexplicable man to me that I ever knew. Can you explain him, Sir? He is, I really believe, noble-minded, generous, and princely. But his most intimate friends may be separated from him for years, without his ever asking a question concerning them. He will meet them with a formality, a coldness, a stately indifference; but when they come close to him, and fairly engage him in conversation, they find him as easy, pleasant, and kind, as they could wish. One then supposes that what is so agreeable will soon be renewed; but stay away from him for half a year, and he will neither call on you, nor send to inquire about you.'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I cannot ascertain his character exactly, as I do not know him; but I should not like to have such a man for my friend. He may love study, and wish not to be interrupted by his friends; Amici fures temporis {“Friends are thieves of time – Editor}. He may be a frivolous man, and be so much occupied with petty pursuits, that he may not want friends. Or he may have a notion that there is a dignity in appearing indifferent, while he in fact may not be more indifferent at his heart than another.'
We went to evening prayers at St. Clement's, at seven, and then parted.
On Sunday, April 20, being Easter-day, after attending solemn service at St. Paul's, I came to Dr. Johnson, and found Mr. Lowe, the painter, sitting with him. Mr. Lowe mentioned the great number of new buildings of late in London, yet that Dr. Johnson had observed, that the number of inhabitants was not increased.
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, the bills of mortality prove that no more people die now than formerly; so it is plain no more live. The register of births proves nothing, for not one tenth of the people of London are born there.'
BOSWELL. 'I believe, Sir, a great many of the children born in London die early.'
JOHNSON. 'Why, yes, Sir.'
BOSWELL. 'But those who do live, are as stout and strong people as any: Dr. Price says, they must be naturally stronger to get through.'
JOHNSON. 'That is system, Sir. A great traveller observes, that it is said there are no weak or deformed people among the Indians; but he with much sagacity assigns the reason of this, which is, that the hardship of their life as hunters and fishers does not allow weak or diseased children to grow up.
Now had I been an Indian, I must have died early; my eyes would not have served me to get food. I indeed now could fish, give me English tackle; but had I been an Indian I must have starved, or they would have knocked me on the head, when they saw I could do nothing.'
BOSWELL. 'Perhaps they would have taken care of you: we are told they are fond of oratory, you would have talked to them.'
JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, I should not have lived long enough to be fit to talk; I should have been dead before I was ten years old. Depend upon it, Sir, a savage, when he is hungry, will not carry about with him a looby of nine years old, who cannot help himself. They have no affection, Sir.'
BOSWELL. 'I believe natural affection, of which we hear so much, is very small.'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, natural affection is nothing: but affection from principle and established duty is sometimes wonderfully strong.'
LOWE. 'A hen, Sir, will feed her chickens in preference to herself.'
JOHNSON. 'But we don't know that the hen is hungry; let the hen be fairly hungry, and I'll warrant she'll peck the corn herself. A cock, I believe, will feed hens instead of himself; but we don't know that the cock is hungry.'
BOSWELL. 'And that, Sir, is not from affection but gallantry. But some of the Indians have affection.'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, that they help some of their children is plain; for some of them live, which they could not do without being helped.'
I dined with him; the company were, Mrs. Williams, Mrs. Desmoulins, and Mr. Lowe. He seemed not to be well, talked little, grew drowsy soon after dinner, and retired, upon which I went away.
Having next day gone to Mr. Burke's seat in the country, from whence I was recalled by an express, that a near relation of mine had killed his antagonist in a duel, and was himself dangerously wounded, I saw little of Dr. Johnson till Monday, April 28, when I spent a considerable part of the day with him, and introduced the subject, which then chiefly occupied my mind.
{This duel was fought on April 21, between Mr. Riddell of the Horse-Grenadiers, and Mr. Cunningham of the Scots Greys. Riddell had the first fire, and shot Cunningham through the breast. After a pause of two minutes Cunningham returned the fire, and gave Riddell a wound of which he died next day. Boswell's grandfather's grandmother was a Miss Cunningham; there does not appear to be a nearer connection. – Editor}
JOHNSON. 'I do not see, Sir, that fighting is absolutely forbidden in Scripture; I see revenge forbidden, but not self-defence.'
BOSWELL. 'The Quakers say it is; "Unto him that smiteth thee on one cheek, offer him also the other."'
JOHNSON. 'But stay, Sir; the text is meant only to have the effect of moderating passion; it is plain that we are not to take it in a literal sense. We see this from the context, where there are other recommendations, which I warrant you the Quaker will not take literally; as, for instance, "From him that would borrow of thee, turn thou not away." Let a man whose credit is bad, come to a Quaker, and say, "Well, Sir, lend me a hundred pounds;" he'll find him as unwilling as any other man.
No, Sir, a man may shoot the man who invades his character, as he may shoot him who attempts to break into his house. So in 1745, my friend, Tom Cumming the Quaker, said, he would not fight, but he would drive an ammunition cart; and we know that the Quakers have sent flannel waistcoats to our soldiers, to enable them to fight better.'
BOSWELL. 'When a man is the aggressor, and by ill-usage forces on a duel in which he is killed, have we not little ground to hope that he is gone into a state of happiness?'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, we are not to judge determinately of the state in which a man leaves this life. He may in a moment have repented effectually, and it is possible may have been accepted by GOD. There is in Camden's Remains, an epitaph upon a very wicked man, who was killed by a fall from his horse, in which he is supposed to say,
'" Between the stirrup and the ground,
I mercy ask'd, I mercy found."'
BOSWELL. 'Is not the expression in the Burial-service, "in the sure and certain hope of a blessed resurrection," too strong to be used indiscriminately, and, indeed, sometimes when those over whose bodies it is said, have been notoriously profane?'
JOHNSON. 'It is sure and certain hope, Sir; not belief.'
I did not insist further; but cannot help thinking that less positive words would be more proper.
(classix comix™ is brought to you by Bob’s Bowery Bar, open as usual from 7am to 4am all through the holidays of all religions: “Are you far from the ancestral midwestern manse this Yuletide, and unable or unwilling to buy a bus ticket home? Or perhaps you are a poor orphan boy or gal, with no home to go to?
Hey, maybe you just plain don’t get along with your ‘folks’! If any of the above situations describes your status, may I suggest that you join me at my favorite ‘home away from home’, Bob’s Bowery Bar, very convenient to public transportation, at the northwest corner of Bleecker and the Bowery? I and many of my friends will be there both Christmas Eve and probably all day and night on Christmas day, making merry, singing carols and slightly bawdy roundelays by the old Steinway upright, swilling quantities of Bob’s justly vaunted basement-brewed bock and steaming pewter tankards of Bob’s hot buttered Royal Navy rum, and enjoying second and third helpings of the Christmas Turkey blue-plate special, featuring your choice of light or dark meat, gravy ‘n’ biscuits, candied yams ‘n’ carrots, and Mom’s homemade cranberry sauce!”
– Horace P. Sternwall, host and narrator of Bob’s Bowery Bar Presents Philip Morris Commander’s “Blanche Weinberg, Lady Psychiatrist”, broadcast live 8pm Sundays {EST}exclusively on the Dumont Television Network. This week’s play: “A Bowery Christmas Miracle”, by Henry P. Strumpfly, starring Kitty Carlisle as “Dr. Blanche”, and featuring special guest star Charles Laughton as “Daddy Christmas”.)
part 241
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