Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 05
History
Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 05
Literature -- Collections
A few days afterwards I called on Davies, and asked him if he thought I
might take the liberty of waiting on Mr. Johnson at his chambers in the
Temple. He said I certainly might, and that Mr. Johnson would take it as
a compliment. So on Tuesday the 24th of May, after having been enlivened
by the witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton, Wilkes, Churchill, and
Lloyd, with whom I had passed the morning, I boldly repaired to Johnson.
His chambers were on the first floor of No. 1, Inner-Temple-lane, and I
entered them with an impression given me by the Reverend Dr. Blair, of
Edinburgh, who had been introduced to him not long before, and described
his having "found the giant in his den"; an expression which, when I
came to be pretty well acquainted with Johnson, I repeated to him, and
he was diverted at this picturesque account of himself. Dr. Blair had
been presented to him by Dr. James Fordyce. At this time the controversy
concerning the pieces published by Mr. James Macpherson as translations
of Ossian was at its height. Johnson had all along denied their
authenticity; and what was still more provoking to their admirers,
maintained that they had no merit. The subject having been introduced by
Dr. Fordyce, Dr. Blair, relying on the internal evidence of their
antiquity, asked Dr. Johnson whether he thought any man of a modern age
could have written such poems. Johnson replied, "Yes, sir, many men,
many women, and many children." Johnson, at this time, did not know that
Dr. Blair had just published a Dissertation, not only defending their
authenticity, but seriously ranking them with the poems of Homer and
Virgil; and when he was afterwards informed of this circumstance, he
expressed some displeasure at Dr. Fordyce's having suggested the topic,
and said, "I am not sorry that they got thus much for their pains. Sir,
it was like leading one to talk of a book when the author is concealed
behind the door."
He received me very courteously; but it must be confessed that his
apartment and furniture and morning dress were sufficiently uncouth. His
brown suit of clothes looked very rusty; he had on a little shriveled
unpowdered wig, which was too small for his head; his shirt-neck and the
knees of his breeches were loose; his black worsted stockings ill drawn
up; and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers. But all
these slovenly particularities were forgotten the moment that he began
to talk. Some gentlemen, whom I do not recollect, were sitting with him;
and when they went away, I also rose; but he said to me, "Nay, don't
go."--"Sir" (said I), "I am afraid that I intrude upon you. It is
benevolent to allow me to sit and hear you." He seemed pleased with this
compliment, which I sincerely paid him, and answered, "Sir, I am obliged
to any man who visits me."
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