Sunday, May 5, 2019

Boswell’s Life of Johnson: 258


Edited by Dan Leo, Assistant Professor of 18th Century British Alchemical Studies, Olney Community College; author of Bozzie and Dr. Sam: The Case of the Really Big Sleep, the Olney Community College Press.

Art direction by rhoda penmarq (layout, pencils, inks, colored sidewalk chalks by eddie el creco; lettering by roy dismas) for the penmarqalqemiqal™ enterprises. 

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We were well entertained and very happy at Dr. Nowell's, where was a very agreeable company, and we drank 'Church and King' after dinner, with true Tory cordiality.

We talked of a certain clergyman of extraordinary character, who by exerting his talents in writing on temporary topicks, and displaying uncommon intrepidity, had raised himself to affluence. I maintained that we ought not to be indignant at his success; for merit of every sort was entitled to reward. 


JOHNSON. 'Sir, I will not allow this man to have merit. No, Sir; what he has is rather the contrary; I will, indeed, allow him courage, and on this account we so far give him credit. We have more respect for a man who robs boldly on the highway, than for a fellow who jumps out of a ditch, and knocks you down behind your back. Courage is a quality so necessary for maintaining virtue, that it is always respected, even when it is associated with vice.


{The clergyman in question was the Rev. Henry Bate, who in 1781 was sentenced to a year in prison for, in the words of Horace Walpole, “an atrocious libel on the Duke of Richmond. He was the worst of all the scandalous libellers that had appeared both on private persons as well as public. His life was dissolute, and he had fought more than one duel.” – Editor}

I censured the coarse invectives which were become fashionable in the House of Commons, and said that if members of parliament must attack each other personally in the heat of debate, it should be done more genteely. 


JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; that would be much worse. Abuse is not so dangerous when there is no vehicle of wit or delicacy, no subtle conveyance. The difference between coarse and refined abuse is as the difference between being bruised by a club, and wounded by a poisoned arrow.' 

I have since observed his position elegantly expressed by Dr. Young:—         


'As the soft plume gives swiftness to the dart,
           Good breeding sends the satire to the heart.'

On Saturday, June 12, there drank tea with us at Dr. Adams's, Mr. John Henderson, student of Pembroke-College, celebrated for his wonderful acquirements in Alchymy, Judicial Astrology, and other abstruse and curious learning; and the Reverend Herbert Croft, who, I am afraid, was somewhat mortified by Dr. Johnson's not being highly pleased with some Family Discourses, which he had printed; they were in too familiar a style to be approved of by so manly a mind. 


I have no note of this evening's conversation, except a single fragment. When I mentioned Thomas Lord Lyttelton's vision, the prediction of the time of his death, and its exact fulfilment;— 

JOHNSON. 'It is the most extraordinary thing that has happened in my day. I heard it with my own ears, from his uncle, Lord Westcote. I am so glad to have every evidence of the spiritual world, that I am willing to believe it.' 

DR. ADAMS. 'You have evidence enough; good evidence, which needs not such support.' 

JOHNSON. 'I like to have more.'


Mr. Henderson, with whom I had sauntered in the venerable walks of Merton-College, and found him a very learned and pious man, supped with us. Dr. Johnson surprised him not a little, by acknowledging with a look of horrour, that he was much oppressed by the fear of death. The amiable Dr. Adams suggested that GOD was infinitely good. 

JOHNSON. 'That he is infinitely good, as far as the perfection of his nature will allow, I certainly believe; but it is necessary for good upon the whole, that individuals should be punished. As to an individual, therefore, he is not infinitely good; and as I cannot be sure that I have fulfilled the conditions on which salvation is granted, I am afraid I may be one of those who shall be damned.' (looking dismally.) 


DR. ADAMS. 'What do you mean by damned?' 

JOHNSON. (passionately and loudly) 'Sent to Hell, Sir, and punished everlastingly.' 

DR. ADAMS. 'I don't believe that doctrine.' 

JOHNSON. 'Hold, Sir, do you believe that some will be punished at all?' 

DR. ADAMS. 'Being excluded from Heaven will be a punishment; yet there may be no great positive suffering.' 


JOHNSON. 'Well, Sir; but, if you admit any degree of punishment, there is an end of your argument for infinite goodness simply considered; for, infinite goodness would inflict no punishment whatever. There is not infinite goodness physically considered; morally there is.' 

BOSWELL. 'But may not a man attain to such a degree of hope as not to be uneasy from the fear of death?' 

JOHNSON. 'A man may have such a degree of hope as to keep him quiet. You see I am not quiet, from the vehemence with which I talk; but I do not despair.' 

MRS. ADAMS. 'You seem, Sir, to forget the merits of our Redeemer.' 


JOHNSON. 'Madam, I do not forget the merits of my Redeemer; but my Redeemer has said that he will set some on his right hand and some on his left.' 

He was in gloomy agitation, and said, 'I'll have no more on't.' 

If what has now been stated should be urged by the enemies of Christianity, as if its influence on the mind were not benignant, let it be remembered, that Johnson's temperament was melancholy, of which such direful apprehensions of futurity are often a common effect. We shall presently see that when he approached nearer to his aweful change, his mind became tranquil, and he exhibited as much fortitude as becomes a thinking man in that situation.


(This week’s episode of classix comix™ has been brought to you by Bob’s “Original” Bowery Bar, conveniently located at the northwest corner of Bleecker and the Bowery: “Can it really be May already? Well, it must be, because my favorite watering hole Bob’s Bowery Bar is celebrating May Day all week long, featuring proletarian favorites such as ‘Karl Marx Red-Hot Hot Dogs’, ‘Emma Goldman’s brisket à la Russe’, and, my personal fave, the ‘Trotskyburger’: a quarter-pound of organic carpaccio topped with a raw free-range egg and thick slices of hothouse red onion and even more red tomato, served on a crusty peasant roll with our homemade ‘workman’s ketchup’ on the side.”

– 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 Communist on the Couch”, by Hillaire Pound Sterling, starring Kitty Carlisle as “Dr. Blanche”, with guest star Chuck Connors as “Commissar Charlie”.)

 


part 259



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