James Boswell - THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON - All 6 Volumes in One Edition

We went home to his house to tea. Mrs. Williams made it with sufficient dexterity, notwithstanding her blindness, though her manner of satisfying herself that the cups were full enough appeared to me a little aukward; for I fancied she put her finger down a certain way, till she felt the tea touch it[296]. In my first elation at being allowed the privilege of attending Dr. Johnson at his late visits to this lady, which was like being è secretioribus consiliis [297], I willingly drank cup after cup, as if it had been the Heliconian spring. But as the charm of novelty went off, I grew more fastidious; and besides, I discovered that she was of a peevish temper[298].

There was a pretty large circle this evening. Dr. Johnson was in very good humour, lively, and ready to talk upon all subjects. Mr. Fergusson, the self-taught philosopher, told him of a new-invented machine which went without horses: a man who sat in it turned a handle, which worked a spring that drove it forward. ‘Then, Sir, (said Johnson,) what is gained is, the man has his choice whether he will move himself alone, or himself and the machine too.’ Dominicetti[299] being mentioned, he would not allow him any merit. ‘There is nothing in all this boasted system. No, Sir; medicated baths can be no better than warm water: their only effect can be that of tepid moisture.’ One of the company took the other side, maintaining that medicines of various sorts, and some too of most powerful effect, are introduced into the human frame by the medium of the pores; and, therefore, when warm water is impregnated with salutiferous substances, it may produce great effects as a bath. This appeared to me very satisfactory. Johnson did not answer it; but talking for victory, and determined to be master of the field, he had recourse to the device which Goldsmith imputed to him in the witty words of one of Cibber’s comedies: ‘There is no arguing with Johnson; for when his pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it[300].’ He turned to the gentleman, ‘Well, Sir, go to Dominicetti, and get thyself fumigated; but be sure that the steam be directed to thy head , for that is the peccant part ‘. This produced a triumphant roar of laughter from the motley assembly of philosophers, printers, and dependents, male and female.

I know not how so whimsical a thought came into my mind, but I asked, ‘If, Sir, you were shut up in a castle, and a newborn child with you, what would you do?’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, I should not much like my company.’ BOSWELL. ‘But would you take the trouble of rearing it?’ He seemed, as may well be supposed, unwilling to pursue the subject: but upon my persevering in my question, replied, ‘Why yes, Sir, I would; but I must have all conveniencies. If I had no garden, I would make a shed on the roof, and take it there for fresh air. I should feed it, and wash it much, and with warm water to please it, not with cold water to give it pain.’ BOSWELL. ‘But, Sir, does not heat relax?’ JOHNSON. ‘Sir, you are not to imagine the water is to be very hot. I would not coddle the child. No, Sir, the hardy method of treating children does no good. I’ll take you five children from London, who shall cuff five Highland children. Sir, a man bred in London will carry a burthen, or run, or wrestle, as well as a man brought up in the hardiest manner in the country.’ BOSWELL. ‘Good living, I suppose, makes the Londoners strong.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, I don’t know that it does. Our Chairmen from Ireland, who are as strong men as any, have been brought up upon potatoes. Quantity makes up for quality.’ BOSWELL. ‘Would you teach this child that I have furnished you with, any thing?’ JOHNSON. ‘No, I should not be apt to teach it.’ BOSWELL. ‘Would not you have a pleasure in teaching it?’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir, I should not have a pleasure in teaching it.’ BOSWELL. ‘Have you not a pleasure in teaching men?— There I have you. You have the same pleasure in teaching men, that I should have in teaching children.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, something about that.’ BOSWELL. ‘Do you think, Sir, that what is called natural affection is born with us? It seems to me to be the effect of habit, or of gratitude for kindness. No child has it for a parent whom it has not seen.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, I think there is an instinctive natural affection in parents towards their children.’

Russia being mentioned as likely to become a great empire, by the rapid increase of population:—JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, I see no prospect of their propagating more. They can have no more children than they can get. I know of no way to make them breed more than they do. It is not from reason and prudence that people marry, but from inclination. A man is poor; he thinks, “I cannot be worse, and so I’ll e’en take Peggy.”’ BOSWELL. ‘But have not nations been more populous at one period than another?’ JOHNSON. ‘Yes, Sir; but that has been owing to the people being less thinned at one period than another, whether by emigrations, war, or pestilence, not by their being more or less prolifick. Births at all times bear the same proportion to the same number of people.’ BOSWELL. ‘But, to consider the state of our own country;—does not throwing a number of farms into one hand hurt population?’ JOHNSON. ‘Why no, Sir; the same quantity of food being produced, will be consumed by the same number of mouths, though the people may be disposed of in different ways. We see, if corn be dear, and butchers’ meat cheap, the farmers all apply themselves to the raising of corn, till it becomes plentiful and cheap, and then butchers’ meat becomes dear; so that an equality is always preserved. No, Sir, let fanciful men do as they will, depend upon it, it is difficult to disturb the system of life.’ BOSWELL. ‘But, Sir, is it not a very bad thing for landlords to oppress their tenants, by raising their rents?’ JOHNSON. ‘Very bad. But, Sir, it never can have any general influence; it may distress some individuals. For, consider this: landlords cannot do without tenants. Now tenants will not give more for land, than land is worth. If they can make more of their money by keeping a shop, or any other way, they’ll do it, and so oblige landlords to let land come back to a reasonable rent, in order that they may get tenants. Land, in England, is an article of commerce. A tenant who pays his landlord his rent, thinks himself no more obliged to him than you think yourself obliged to a man in whose shop you buy a piece of goods. He knows the landlord does not let him have his land for less than he can get from others, in the same manner as the shopkeeper sells his goods. No shopkeeper sells a yard of ribband for sixpence when seven-pence is the current price.’ BOSWELL. ‘But, Sir, is it not better that tenants should be dependant on landlords?’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, as there are many more tenants than landlords, perhaps, strictly speaking, we should wish not. But if you please you may let your lands cheap, and so get the value, part in money and part in homage. I should agree with you in that.’ BOSWELL. ‘So, Sir, you laugh at schemes of political improvement.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, most schemes of political improvement are very laughable things.’

He observed, ‘Providence has wisely ordered that the more numerous men are, the more difficult it is for them to agree in any thing, and so they are governed. There is no doubt, that if the poor should reason, “We’ll be the poor no longer, we’ll make the rich take their turn,” they could easily do it, were it not that they can’t agree. So the common soldiers, though so much more numerous than their officers, are governed by them for the same reason.’

He said, ‘Mankind have a strong attachment to the habitations to which they have been accustomed. You see the inhabitants of Norway do not with one consent quit it, and go to some part of America, where there is a mild climate, and where they may have the same produce from land, with the tenth part of the labour. No, Sir; their affection for their old dwellings, and the terrour of a general change, keep them at home. Thus, we see many of the finest spots in the world thinly inhabited, and many rugged spots well inhabited.’