Complete Works of Samuel Johnson, page 831
‘Three poets in three distant ages born,’ &c.
and a part of a Latin translation of it done at Oxford: he did not then say by whom.
He received a card from Sir Alexander Gordon, who had been his acquaintance twenty years ago in London, and who, ‘if forgiven for not answering a line from him,’ would come in the afternoon. Dr. Johnson rejoiced to hear of him, and begged he would come and dine with us. I was much pleased to see the kindness with which Dr. Johnson received his old friend Sir Alexander; a gentleman of good family, Lismore, but who had not the estate. The King’s College here made him Professor of Medicine, which affords him a decent subsistence. He told us that the value of the stockings exported from Aberdeen was, in peace, a hundred thousand pounds; and amounted, in time of war, to one hundred and seventy thousand pounds. Dr. Johnson asked, What made the difference? Here we had a proof of the comparative sagacity of the two professors. Sir Alexander answered, ‘Because there is more occasion for them in war.’ Professor Thomas Gordon answered, ‘Because the Germans, who are our great rivals in the manufacture of stockings, are otherwise employed in time of war.’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, you have given a very good solution.’
At dinner, Dr. Johnson ate several plate-fulls of Scotch broth, with barley and peas in it, and seemed very fond of the dish. I said, ‘You never ate it before.’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir; but I don’t care how soon I eat it again.’ My cousin, Miss Dallas, formerly of Inverness, was married to Mr. Riddoch, one of the ministers of the English chapel here. He was ill, and confined to his room; but she sent us a kind invitation to tea, which we all accepted. She was the same lively, sensible, cheerful woman as ever. Dr. Johnson here threw out some jokes against Scotland. He said, ‘You go first to Aberdeen; then to Enbru (the Scottish pronunciation of Edinburgh); then to Newcastle, to be polished by the colliers; then to York; then to London.’ And he laid hold of a little girl, Stuart Dallas, niece to Mrs. Riddoch, and, representing himself as a giant, said, he would take her with him! telling her, in a hollow voice, that he lived in a cave, and had a bed in the rock, and she should have a little bed cut opposite to it!
He thus treated the point, as to prescription of murder in Scotland. ‘A jury in England would make allowance for deficiencies of evidence, on account of lapse of time; but a general rule that a crime should not be punished, or tried for the purpose of punishment, after twenty years, is bad. It is cant to talk of the King’s advocate delaying a prosecution from malice. How unlikely is it the King’s advocate should have malice against persons who commit murder, or should even know them at all. If the son of the murdered man should kill the murderer who got off merely by prescription, I would help him to make his escape; though, were I upon his jury, I would not acquit him. I would not advise him to commit such an act. On the contrary, I would bid him submit to the determination of society, because a man is bound to submit to the inconveniences of it, as he enjoys the good: but the young man, though politically wrong, would not be morally wrong. He would have to say, ‘here I am amongst barbarians, who not only refuse to do justice, but encourage the greatest of all crimes. I am therefore in a state of nature: for, so far as there is no law, it is a state of nature: and consequently, upon the eternal and immutable law of justice, which requires that he who sheds man’s blood should have his blood shed, I will stab the murderer of my father.’
We went to our inn, and sat quietly. Dr. Johnson borrowed, at Mr. Riddoch’s, a volume of Massillon’s Discourses on the Psalms: but I found he read little in it. Ogden too he sometimes took up, and glanced at; but threw it down again. I then entered upon religious conversation. Never did I see him in a better frame: calm, gentle, wise, holy. I said, ‘Would not the same objection hold against the Trinity as against Transubstantiation?’ ‘Yes, (said he,) if you take three and one in the same sense. If you do so, to be sure you cannot believe it: but the three persons in the Godhead are Three in one sense, and One in another. We cannot tell how; and that is the mystery!’
I spoke of the satisfaction of Christ. He said his notion was, that it did not atone for the sins of the world; but, by satisfying divine justice, by shewing that no less than the Son of God suffered for sin, it shewed to men and innumerable created beings, the heinousness of it, and therefore rendered it unnecessary for divine vengeance to be exercised against sinners, as it otherwise must have been; that in this way it might operate even in favour of those who had never heard of it: as to those who did hear of it, the effect it should produce would be repentance and piety, by impressing upon the mind a just notion of sin: that original sin was the propensity to evil, which no doubt was occasioned by the fall. He presented this solemn subject in a new light to me, and rendered much more rational and clear the doctrine of what our Saviour has done for us; — as it removed the notion of imputed righteousness in co-operating; whereas by this view, Christ has done all already that he had to do, or is ever to do for mankind, by making his great satisfaction; the consequences of which will affect each individual according to the particular conduct of each. I would illustrate this by saying, that Christ’s satisfaction resembles a sun placed to shew light to men, so that it depends upon themselves whether they will walk the right way or not, which they could not have done without that sun, ‘the sun of righteousness’ There is, however, more in it than merely giving light — a light to lighten the Gentiles: for we are told, there is healing under his wings. Dr. Johnson said to me, ‘Richard Baxter commends a treatise by Grotius, De Satisfactione Christi. I have never read it: but I intend to read it; and you may read it.’ I remarked, upon the principle now laid down, we might explain the difficult and seemingly hard text, ‘They that believe shall be saved; and they that believe not shall be damned:’ They that believe shall have such an impression made upon their minds, as will make them act so that they may be accepted by GOD.
We talked of one of our friends taking ill, for a length of time, a hasty expression of Dr. Johnson’s to him, on his attempting to prosecute a subject that had a reference to religion, beyond the bounds within which the Doctor thought such topicks should be confined in a mixed company. JOHNSON. ‘What is to become of society, if a friendship of twenty years is to be broken off for such a cause?’ As Bacon says,
‘Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns the water, or but writes in dust.’
I said, he should write expressly in support of Christianity; for that, although a reverence for it shines through his works in several places, that is not enough. ‘You know, (said I,) what Grotius has done, and what Addison has done. — You should do also.’ He replied, ‘I hope I shall.’
MONDAY, AUGUST 23.
Principal Campbell, Sir Alexander Gordon, Professor Gordon, and Professor Ross, visited us in the morning, as did Dr. Gerard, who had come six miles from the country on purpose. We went and saw the Marischal College, and at one o’clock we waited on the magistrates in the town hall, as they had invited us in order to present Dr. Johnson with the freedom of the town, which Provost Jopp did with a very good grace. Dr. Johnson was much pleased with this mark of attention, and received it very politely. There was a pretty numerous company assembled. It was striking to hear all of them drinking ‘Dr. Johnson! Dr. Johnson!’ in the town-hall of Aberdeen, and then to see him with his burgess-ticket, or diploma, in his hat, which he wore as he walked along the street, according to the usual custom. It gave me great satisfaction to observe the regard, and indeed fondness too, which every body here had for my father.
While Sir Alexander Gordon conducted Dr. Johnson to old Aberdeen, Professor Gordon and I called on Mr. Riddoch, whom I found to be a grave worthy clergyman. He observed, that, whatever might be said of Dr. Johnson while he was alive, he would, after he was dead, be looked upon by the world with regard and astonishment, on account of his Dictionary.
Professor Gordon and I walked over to the Old College, which Dr. Johnson had seen by this time. I stepped into the chapel, and looked at the tomb of the founder, Archbishop Elphinston, of whom I shall have occasion to write in my History of James IV. of Scotland, the patron of my family. We dined at Sir Alexander Gordon’s. The Provost, Professor Ross, Professor Dunbar, Professor Thomas Gordon, were there. After dinner came in Dr. Gerard, Professor Leslie, Professor Macleod. We had little or no conversation in the morning; now we were but barren. The professors seemed afraid to speak.
Dr. Gerard told us that an eminent printer was very intimate with Warburton. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, he has printed some of his works, and perhaps bought the property of some of them. The intimacy is such as one of the professors here may have with one of the carpenters who is repairing the college.’ ‘But, (said Gerard,) I saw a letter from him to this printer, in which he says, that the one half of the clergy of the church of Scotland are fanaticks, and the other half infidels.’ JOHNSON. ‘Warburton has accustomed himself to write letters just as he speaks, without thinking any more of what he throws out. When I read Warburton first, and observed his force, and his contempt of mankind, I thought he had driven the world before him; but I soon found that was not the case; for Warburton, by extending his abuse, rendered it ineffectual.’
He told me, when we were by ourselves, that he thought it very wrong in the printer to shew Warburton’s letter, as it was raising a body of enemies against him. He thought it foolish in Warburton to write so to the printer; and added, ‘Sir, the worst way of being intimate, is by scribbling.’ He called Warburton’s Doctrine of Grace a poor performance, and so he said was Wesley’s Answer. ‘Warburton, he observed, had laid himself very open. In particular, he was weak enough to say, that, in some disorders of the imagination, people had spoken with tongues, had spoken languages which they never knew before; a thing as absurd as to say, that, in some disorders of the imagination, people had been known to fly.’
I talked of the difference of genius, to try if I could engage Gerard in a disquisition with Dr. Johnson; but I did not succeed. I mentioned, as a curious fact, that Locke had written verses. JOHNSON. ‘I know of none, Sir, but a kind of exercise prefixed to Dr. Sydenham’s Works, in which he has some conceits about the dropsy, in which water and burning are united; and how Dr. Sydenham removed fire by drawing off water, contrary to the usual practice, which is to extinguish fire by bringing water upon it. I am not sure that there is a word of all this; but it is such kind of talk.’ We spoke of Fingal. Dr. Johnson said calmly, ‘If the poems were really translated, they were certainly first written down. Let Mr. Macpherson deposite the manuscript in one of the colleges at Aberdeen, where there are people who can judge; and, if the professors certify the authenticity, then there will be an end of the controversy. If he does not take this obvious and easy method, he gives the best reason to doubt; considering too, how much is against it à priori’.
We sauntered after dinner in Sir Alexander’s garden, and saw his little grotto, which is hung with pieces of poetry written in a fair hand. It was agreeable to observe the contentment and kindness of this quiet, benevolent man. Professor Macleod was brother to Macleod of Talisker, and brother-in-law to the Laird of Col. He gave me a letter to young Col. I was weary of this day, and began to think wishfully of being again in motion. I was uneasy to think myself too fastidious, whilst I fancied Dr. Johnson quite satisfied. But he owned to me that he was fatigued and teased by Sir Alexander’s doing too much to entertain him. I said, it was all kindness. JOHNSON. ‘True, Sir; but sensation is sensation.’ BOSWELL. ‘It is so: we feel pain equally from the surgeon’s probe, as from the sword of the foe.’
We visited two booksellers’ shops, and could not find Arthur Johnston’s Poems’. We went and sat near an hour at Mr. Riddoch’s. He could not tell distinctly how much education at the college here costs, which disgusted Dr. Johnson. I had pledged myself that we should go to the inn, and not stay supper. They pressed us, but he was resolute. I saw Mr. Riddoch did not please him. He said to me, afterwards, ‘Sir, he has no vigour in his talk.’ But my friend should have considered that he himself was not in good humour; so that it was not easy to talk to his satisfaction. We sat contentedly at our inn. He then became merry, and observed how little we had either heard or said at Aberdeen: that the Aberdonians had not started a single mawkin (the Scottish word for hare) for us to pursue.
TUESDAY, AUGUST 24.
We set out about eight in the morning, and breakfasted at Ellon. The landlady said to me, ‘Is not this the great Doctor that is going about through the country?’ I said, ‘Yes.’ ‘Ay, (said she) we heard of him. I made an errand into the room on purpose to see him. There’s something great in his appearance: it is a pleasure to have such a man in one’s house; a man who does so much good. If I had thought of it, I would have shewn him a child of mine, who has had a lump on his throat for some time.’ ‘But, (said I,) he is not a doctor of physick.’ ‘Is he an oculist?’ said the landlord. ‘No, (said I,) he is only a very learned man.’ LANDLORD. ‘They say he is the greatest man in England, except Lord Mansfield.’ Dr. Johnson was highly entertained with this, and I do think he was pleased too. He said, ‘I like the exception: to have called me the greatest man in England, would have been an unmeaning compliment: but the exception marked that the praise was in earnest: and, in Scotland, the exception must be Lord Mansfield, or — Sir John Pringle.’
He told me a good story of Dr. Goldsmith. Graham, who wrote Telemachus, a Masque, was sitting one night with him and Dr. Johnson, and was half drunk. He rattled away to Dr. Johnson: ‘You are a clever fellow, to be sure; but you cannot write an essay like Addison, or verses like the RAPE OF THE LOCK.’ At last he said, ‘Doctor, I should be happy to see you at Eaton.’ ‘I shall be glad to wait on you,’ answered Goldsmith. ‘No, (said Graham,) ’tis not you I mean, Dr. Minor; ’tis Doctor Major, there.’ Goldsmith was excessively hurt by this. He afterwards spoke of it himself. ‘Graham, (said he,) is a fellow to make one commit suicide.’
We had received a polite invitation to Slains castle. We arrived there just at three o’clock, as the bell for dinner was ringing. Though, from its being just on the North-east Ocean, no trees will grow here, Lord Errol has done all that can be done. He has cultivated his fields so as to bear rich crops of every kind, and he has made an excellent kitchen-garden, with a hot-house. I had never seen any of the family: but there had been a card of invitation written by the honourable Charles Boyd, the earl’s brother. We were conducted into the house, and at the dining-room door were met by that gentleman, whom both of us at first took to be Lord Errol; but he soon corrected our mistake. My Lord was gone to dine in the neighbourhood, at an entertainment given by Mr. Irvine of Drum. Lady Errol received us politely, and was very attentive to us during the time of dinner. There was nobody at table but her ladyship, Mr. Boyd, and some of the children, their governour and governess. Mr. Boyd put Dr. Johnson in mind of having dined with him at Cumming the Quaker’s, along with a Mr. Hall and Miss Williams: this was a bond of connection between them. For me, Mr. Boyd’s acquaintance with my father was enough. After dinner, Lady Errol favoured us with a sight of her young family, whom she made stand up in a row. There were six daughters and two sons. It was a very pleasing sight.
Dr. Johnson proposed our setting out. Mr. Boyd said, he hoped we would stay all night; his brother would be at home in the evening, and would be very sorry if he missed us. Mr. Boyd was called out of the room. I was very desirous to stay in so comfortable a house, and I wished to see Lord Errol. Dr Johnson, however, was right in resolving to go, if we were not asked again, as it is best to err on the safe side in such cases, and to be sure that one is quite welcome. To my great joy, when Mr. Boyd returned, he told Dr. Johnson that it was Lady Errol who had called him out, and said that she would never let Dr. Johnson into the house again, if he went away that night; and that she had ordered the coach, to carry us to view a great curiosity on the coast, after which we should see the house. We cheerfully agreed.
Mr. Boyd was engaged, in 1745-6, on the same side with many unfortunate mistaken noblemen and gentlemen. He escaped, and lay concealed for a year in the island of Arran, the ancient territory of the Boyds. He then went to France, and was about twenty years on the continent. He married a French Lady, and now lived very comfortably at Aberdeen, and was much at Slains castle. He entertained us with great civility. He had a pompousness or formal plenitude in his conversation, which I did not dislike. Dr. Johnson said, ‘there was too much elaboration in his talk.’ It gave me pleasure to see him, a steady branch of the family, setting forth all its advantages with much zeal. He told us that Lady Errol was one of the most pious and sensible women in the island; had a good head, and as good a heart. He said, she did not use force or fear in educating her children. JOHNSON. ‘Sir, she is wrong; I would rather have the rod to be the general terror to all, to make them learn, than tell a child if you do thus or thus, you will be more esteemed than your brothers or sisters. The rod produces an effect which terminates in itself. A child is afraid of being whipped, and gets his task, and there’s an end on’t; whereas, by exciting emulation, and comparisons of superiority, you lay the foundation of lasting mischief; you make brothers and sisters hate each other.’
