Anecdotes of the late Samuel Johnson [62]
in matters of business," said he, "no woman stops at integrity." This was, I think, the only sentence I ever observed him solicitous to explain away after he had uttered it. He was not at all displeased at the recollection of a sarcasm thrown on a whole profession at once; when a gentleman leaving the company, somebody who sat next Dr. Johnson asked him, who he was? "I cannot exactly tell you, sir," replied he, "and I would be loth to speak ill of any person who I do not know deserves it, but I am afraid he is an ATTORNEY." He did not, however, encourage general satire, and for the most part professed himself to feel directly contrary to Dr. Swift; "who," says he, "hates the world, though he loves John and Robert, and certain individuals."
Johnson said always, "that the world was well constructed, but that the particular people disgraced the elegance and beauty of the general fabric." In the same manner I was relating once to him how Dr. Collier observed that the love one bore to children was from the anticipation one's mind made while one contemplated them. "We hope," says he, "that they will sometime make wise men or amiable women; and we suffer 'em to take up our affection beforehand. One cannot love LUMPS OF FLESH, and little infants are nothing more." "On the contrary," says Johnson, "one can scarcely help wishing, while one fondles a baby, that it may never live to become a man; for it is so probable that when he becomes a man, he should be sure to end in a scoundrel." Girls were less displeasing to him; "for as their temptations were fewer," he said, "their virtue in this life, and happiness in the next, were less improbable; and he loved," he said, "to see a knot of little misses dearly."
Needlework had a strenuous approver in Dr. Johnson, who said "that one of the great felicities of female life was the general consent of the world that they might amuse themselves with petty occupations, which contributed to the lengthening their lives, and preserving their minds in a state of sanity." "A man cannot hem a pocket-handkerchief," said a lady of quality to him one day, "and so he runs mad, and torments his family and friends." The expression struck him exceedingly, and when one acquaintance grew troublesome, and another unhealthy, he used to quote Lady Frances's observation, "That a man cannot hem a pocket-handkerchief."
The nice people found no mercy from Mr. Johnson; such, I mean, as can only dine at four o'clock, who cannot bear to be waked at an unusual hour, or miss a stated meal without inconvenience. HE had no such prejudices himself, and with difficulty forgave them in another. "Delicacy does not surely consist," says he, "in impossibility to be pleased, and that is false dignity indeed which is content to depend upon others."
The saying of the old philosopher who observes, "That he who wants least is most like the gods, who want nothing," was a favourite sentence with Dr. Johnson, who on his own part required less attendance, sick or well, than ever I saw any human creature. Conversation was all he required to make him happy; and when he would have tea made at two o'clock in the morning, it was only that there might be a certainty of detaining his companions round him. On that principle it was that he preferred winter to summer, when the heat of the weather gave people an excuse to stroll about and walk for pleasure in the shade, while he wished to sit still on a chair and chat day after day, till somebody proposed a drive in the coach, and that was the most delicious moment of his life. "But the carriage must stop some time," he said, "and the people would come home at last," so his pleasure was of short duration.
I asked him why he doated on a coach so? and received for answer, "That in the first place the company were shut in with him THERE, and could not escape, as out of a room. In the next place, he heard all that was said in a carriage, where it was my turn to be deaf," and very impatient was he at my occasional difficulty of hearing. On this account he wished to travel
Johnson said always, "that the world was well constructed, but that the particular people disgraced the elegance and beauty of the general fabric." In the same manner I was relating once to him how Dr. Collier observed that the love one bore to children was from the anticipation one's mind made while one contemplated them. "We hope," says he, "that they will sometime make wise men or amiable women; and we suffer 'em to take up our affection beforehand. One cannot love LUMPS OF FLESH, and little infants are nothing more." "On the contrary," says Johnson, "one can scarcely help wishing, while one fondles a baby, that it may never live to become a man; for it is so probable that when he becomes a man, he should be sure to end in a scoundrel." Girls were less displeasing to him; "for as their temptations were fewer," he said, "their virtue in this life, and happiness in the next, were less improbable; and he loved," he said, "to see a knot of little misses dearly."
Needlework had a strenuous approver in Dr. Johnson, who said "that one of the great felicities of female life was the general consent of the world that they might amuse themselves with petty occupations, which contributed to the lengthening their lives, and preserving their minds in a state of sanity." "A man cannot hem a pocket-handkerchief," said a lady of quality to him one day, "and so he runs mad, and torments his family and friends." The expression struck him exceedingly, and when one acquaintance grew troublesome, and another unhealthy, he used to quote Lady Frances's observation, "That a man cannot hem a pocket-handkerchief."
The nice people found no mercy from Mr. Johnson; such, I mean, as can only dine at four o'clock, who cannot bear to be waked at an unusual hour, or miss a stated meal without inconvenience. HE had no such prejudices himself, and with difficulty forgave them in another. "Delicacy does not surely consist," says he, "in impossibility to be pleased, and that is false dignity indeed which is content to depend upon others."
The saying of the old philosopher who observes, "That he who wants least is most like the gods, who want nothing," was a favourite sentence with Dr. Johnson, who on his own part required less attendance, sick or well, than ever I saw any human creature. Conversation was all he required to make him happy; and when he would have tea made at two o'clock in the morning, it was only that there might be a certainty of detaining his companions round him. On that principle it was that he preferred winter to summer, when the heat of the weather gave people an excuse to stroll about and walk for pleasure in the shade, while he wished to sit still on a chair and chat day after day, till somebody proposed a drive in the coach, and that was the most delicious moment of his life. "But the carriage must stop some time," he said, "and the people would come home at last," so his pleasure was of short duration.
I asked him why he doated on a coach so? and received for answer, "That in the first place the company were shut in with him THERE, and could not escape, as out of a room. In the next place, he heard all that was said in a carriage, where it was my turn to be deaf," and very impatient was he at my occasional difficulty of hearing. On this account he wished to travel