BOSWELL. "Should not he provide amusements for himself? Would it not, for instance, be right for him to take a course of chymistry?" JOHNSON. "Let him take a course of chymistry, or a course of rope-dancing, or a course of any thing to which he is inclined at the time: let him contrive to have as many retreats for his mind as he can, as many things to which it can fly from itself. Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy is a valuable work. It is perhaps overloaded with quotation: but there is great spirit and great power in what Burton says, when he writes from his own mind."

Johnson lamented to Mr. Hector the state of one of their school-fellows, Mr. Charles Congreve, a clergyman, which he thus described: "He obtained, I believe, considerable preferment in Ireland, but now lives in London, quite as a valetudinarian, afraid to go into any house but his own. He takes a short airing in his post-chaise every day. He has an elderly woman, whom he calls cousin, who lives with him, and jogs his elbow when his glass has stood too long empty; and encourages him in drinking, in which he is very willing to be encouraged; not that he gets drunk, for he is a very pious man : but he is always muddy. He confesses to one bottle of port every day, and he probably drinks more. He is quite unsocial; his conversation is quite monosyllabical; and when, at my last visit, I asked him what o'clock it was, that signal of my departure had so pleasing an effect on him that he sprung up to look at his watch like a greyhound bounding at a hare.” When Johnson took leave of Mr. Hector, he said, "Don't grow like Congreve; nor let me grow like him, when you are near me.”

He gave Dr. Taylor the same sad account of their schoolfellow, Congreve, that he had given to Mr. Hector; adding a remark of such moment to the rational conduct of a man in the decline of life that it deserves to be imprinted upon every mind : "There is nothing against which an old man should be so much upon his guard as putting himself to nurse. Innumerable have

been the melancholy instances of men, once distinguished for firmness, resolution, and spirit, who in their latter days have been governed, like children, by interested female artifice.

Another time, talking of melancholy, he said, "Some men, and very thinking men too, have not those vexing thoughts. Sir Joshua Reynolds is the same all the year round, Beauclerk, except when ill and in pain, is the same. But I believe most men have them in the degree in which they are capable of having them. If I were in the country, and were distressed by that malady, I would force myself to take a book; and every time I did it I should find it the easier. Melancholy, indeed, should be diverted by every means but drinking."

J

V.

MADNESS.

OHNSON said: "A madman loves to be with people whom

:

he fears not as a dog fears the lash, but of whom he stands in awe." "I was struck," Boswell remarks, "with the justice of this observation. To be with those of whom a person, whose mind is wavering and dejected, stands in awe, represses and composes an uneasy tumult of spirits, and consoles him with the contemplation of something steady, and at least comparatively great."

Johnson added: "Madmen are all sensual in the lower stages of the distemper. They are eager for gratifications to soothe their minds, and divert their attention from the misery which they suffer but when they grow very ill, pleasure is too weak for them, and they seek for pain. Employment, sir, and hardships, prevent melancholy. I suppose in all our army in America there was not one man who went mad."

On another occasion he observed: "Madness frequently discovers itself merely by unnecessary deviation from the usual

modes of the world. My poor friend Smart showed the disturbance of his mind by falling upon his knees, and saying his prayers in the street, or in any unusual place. Now, although, rationally speaking, it is greater madness not to pray at all than to pray as Smart did, I am afraid there are so many who do not pray that their understanding is not called in question.”

BURNEY.

Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher Smart, who was confined in a mad-house, he had, at another time, the following conversation with Dr. Burney. "How does poor Smart do, sir? is he likely to recover?" JOHNSON. "It seems as if his mind had ceased to struggle with the disease; for he grows fat upon it." BURNEY, "Perhaps, sir, that may be from want of exercise." JOHNSON. "No, sir; he has partly as much exercise as he used to have, for he digs in the garden. Indeed before his confinement he used, for exercise, to walk to the ale-house; but he was carried back again. I did not think he ought to be shut up. His infirmities were not noxious to society. He insisted on people praying with him; and I'd as lief pray with Kit Smart as any one else. Another charge was, that he did not love clean linen; and I have no passion for it."

Talking of the melancholy end of a gentleman who had destroyed himself. JOHNSON. "It was owing to imaginary difficulties in his affairs, which, had he talked of them with any friend, would soon have vanished." BoSWELL. "Do you think, sir, that all who commit suicide are mad?" JOHNSON. "Sir, they are often not universally disordered in their intellects; but one passion presses so upon them that they yield to it, and commit suicide, as a passionate man will stab another. I have often thought that, after a man has taken the resolution to kill himself, it is not courage in him to do any thing, however desperate, because he has nothing to fear." GOLDSMITH. "I don't see that." JOHNSON. "Nay, but my dear sir, why should not you see what every one else sees ?" GOLDSMITH. "It is for fear of something that he has resolved to kill himself: and will not that timid disposition

restrain him?" JOHNSON. "It does not signify that the fear of something made him resolve; it is upon the state of his mind, after the resolution is taken, that I argue. Suppose a man, either from fear, or pride, or conscience, or whatever motive, has resolved to kill himself; when once the resolution is taken, he has nothing to fear. He may then go and take the king of Prussia by the nose, at the head of his army. He cannot fear the rack, who is resolved to kill himself. When Eustace Budgell was walking down to the Thames, determined to drown himself, he might, if he pleased, without any apprehension of danger have turned aside, and set fire to St. James's Palace."

VI.

PREJUDICE.

OHNSON'S prejudice against Scotland appeared remarkably strong at times. When Boswell talked of the advancement of the Scotch in literature, "Sir," said he, "you have learnt a little from us, and you think yourselves very great men. Hume would never have written history, had not Voltaire written it before him. He is an echo of Voltaire." BOSWELL. "But, sir, we have Lord Kames." JOHNSON. "You have Lord Kames. Keep him. Ha! ha! ha! We don't envy you him. Do you ever see Dr. Robertson?" BOSWELL. "Yes, sir.” JOHNSON. “Does the dog talk of me?” Boswell. "Indeed, sir, he does, and loves you." Boswell adds: "Thinking that I now had him in a corner, and, being solicitous for the literary fame of my country, I pressed him for his opinion on the merit of Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland. But, to my surprise, he escaped. Sir, I love Robertson, and I won't talk of his book.' It is but justice, both to him and Dr. Robertson, to add that, though he indulged himself in this sally

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of wit, he had too good taste not to be fully sensible of the merits of that admira le work."

"He played off his wit against Scotland with a goodhumoured pleasantry, which gave me,” says Boswell, “though no bigot to national prejudices, an opportunity for a little contest with him. I having said that England was obliged to us for gardeners, almost all their good gardeners being Scotchmen: JOHNSON. Why, sir, that is because gardening is much more necessary amongst you than with us, which makes so many of your people learn it. It is all gardening with you. Things which grow wild here must be cultivated with great care in Scotland. Pray, now,' (throwing himself back in his chair, and laughing) are you ever able to bring the sloe to perfection?'"

"I boasted that we had the honour of being the first to abolish the unhospitable, troublesome, and ungracious custom of giving vails to servants. JOHNSON. Sir, you abolished vails, because you were too poor to be able to give them.'"

He would not allow Scotland to derive any credit from Lord Mansfield; for he was educated in England. "Much," said he, "may be made of a Scotchman, if he be caught young.'

Boswell told him he had been informed by Mr. Orme that many parts of the East Indies were better mapped than the Highlands of Scotland. JOHNSON. “That a country may be mapped it must be travelled over." "Nay," said Boswell, meaning to laugh with him at one of his prejudices, “can't you say it is not worth mapping?

Johnson expressed to his friend Mr. Windham, of Norfolk, his wonder at the extreme jealousy of the Scotch, and their resentment at having their country described by him as it really was ; when to say that it was a country as good as England would have been a gross falsehood. "None of us," said he, "would be offended, if a foreigner who has travelled here should say that vines and olives don't grow in England." And as to his prejudice against the Scotch, which Boswell always ascribed to