CHAPTER XI
The habit which annoyed Mrs. Thrale was necessary to Boswell's conception of his task; it involved what he spoke of as his 'authenticity.'
To understand what he meant by this, an attitude perhaps not only towards himself, but to the public also, since he wished very much that those who read his book should feel that it was true in every detail, we must examine more nearly Boswell's method of carrying out his biographical plan.
It is remarkable that Boswell should have begun his system of recording when quite a young man. A man of forty is more easily forgiven some eccentricity than one of two-and-twenty. Yet we find Boswell, during his travels on the Continent, tablets in hand on his first visit to Paoli, who gives an amusing account of him:
He came to my country and he fetched me some letter of recommending him: but I was of the belief he might be an impostor, and I supposed in my minte, he was an espy; for I look away from him and in a moment I look to him again, and I behold his tablets. Oh! he was to the work of writing down all I say! Indeed I was angry. But soon I discover he was no impostor and no espy; and I only find I was myself the monster he had come to discover. Oh—he is a very good man, I love him indeed; so cheerful! so gay! so pleasant! but at the first, oh! indeed I was angry.[1]
Boswell's method of recording conversations was not completed in these memoranda taken down at the moment. He had, besides these, his journal. It has been remarked already that he began to keep this regularly as early as 1758 during his tour on the Northern Circuit in the company of his father and Lord Hailes, and he tells us something of it at the time of his journey to Greenwich with Johnson in 1763:
I was the more sensible of it (the cold) from having sat up all the night before recollecting and writing in my journal what I thought worthy of preservation; an exertion which, during the first part of my acquaintance with Johnson, I frequently made. I remember having sat up four nights in one week, without being much incommoded in the daytime.
In the 'Tour to Corsica,' also, he tells us:
From my first setting out on this tour, I wrote down every night what I had observed during the day, throwing together a great deal, that I might afterwards select at leisure.[2]
We have then two processes mentioned by which Boswell recorded conversation: the notes taken down REPORTING CONVERSATION at the moment, and the journal written up at night. The relation of these two—the function which each of them performed—is not difficult to conjecture.
Boswell's object was to get his records written up as soon as possible after the events or conversations which he was describing:
I found, from experience, that to collect my friend's conversation so as to exhibit it with any degree of its original flavour, it was necessary to write it down without delay. To record his sayings, after some distance of time, was like preserving or pickling long-kept or faded fruits, or other vegetables, which, when in that state, have little or nothing of their taste when fresh.[3]
It was upon the fact that he trusted, not to his memory, but to 'exact transcript of conversations,' that Boswell based his claim to authenticity.[4] He was so absolutely truthful himself, that it never occurred to him to think that the truth of what was actually written down at the time could be doubted, and it was to him an entire refutation of any adversary to confront him with his method.
If this book should again be reprinted, I shall with the utmost readiness correct any errours I may have committed, in stating conversations, provided it can be clearly shown to me that I have been inaccurate. But I am slow to believe (as I have elsewhere observed) that any man's memory, at the distance of several years, can preserve facts or sayings with such fidelity as may be done by writing them down when they are recent: and I beg it may be remembered, that it is not upon memory, but upon what was written at the time, that the authenticity of my 'Journal' rests.[5]
But it is clear enough that the notes which Boswell made at the time must have been very unlike the final form in which he wrote the dialogue. In the course of conversations in which he himself took part, it would have been impossible without shorthand to make so full a record. The kind of notes which Boswell took may be gathered from the following passage:
I this evening boasted, that though I did not write what is called stenography, or short-hand, in appropriated characters devised for the purpose, I had a method of my own of writing half words, and leaving out some altogether, so as yet to keep the substance and language of any discourses which I had heard so much in view, that I could give it very completely soon after I had taken it down.[6]
It would seem then that what was written down during a conversation was far from including every word which was spoken; it was rather an aid, though a very substantial aid, to memory. We may conjecture that the most important expressions were recorded, and the course of the argument indicated, so as to be intelligible to Boswell, but not even to him, perhaps, after a long THE RECORDS interval. He was able to 'keep in view' the 'substance and language.'
To give a full and permanent form to these rough drafts must therefore have been a work of considerable labour; and it is this no doubt that the journal accomplished.
We may see in the 'Life' the traces of two kinds of record. For we have sometimes the actual words of the speakers, but at others only the purport of their remarks. What we should naturally suppose—if this theory of the respective functions of the notes and the journal is correct—that the former came from the journal and the latter from the notes taken down at the moment, or sometimes perhaps shortly afterwards—is confirmed by the fact that, when we have only the less complete account, Boswell very often regrets the neglect of his journal, and talks of presenting such scraps as he has; and on one occasion says:
I kept very imperfect notes of his conversation, which had I according to my usual custom written out at large soon after the time, much might have been preserved.[7]
He was obliged in consequence of his neglect to write the text directly from notes; with their aid he filled in what he could remember; but he dispensed with the intermediate assistance of the journal, and the account is therefore far less full.
The rough notes of the moment and the elaborate journal made by writing them out at large 'soon after the time'—these, then, form the basis of Boswell's method for preserving Johnson's talk. It is not to be supposed that Boswell strictly adhered to this method on every occasion. He was too much an experimentalist for that; and sometimes it must have been very difficult to take notes. We cannot imagine that when Boswell was alone with Johnson he pulled out 'tablets' in the course of an argument. More probably he seized an opportunity, as soon afterwards as possible, when Johnson was not talking, to put down the more striking phrases and record the point of the discussion. But there must have been some occasions when opportunities did not occur. Johnson, no doubt, became accustomed to his companion's habits and was often willing to help him by telling him details about his early life or dictating the text of a letter for Boswell to write down there and then. But sometimes he was in the mood to resent memoranda; and sometimes the talk was too continuous for Boswell's task to be an easy one. At such times Boswell may have written the journal as well as he could without the notes, and as soon afterwards as possible. At Ashbourne, for instance, in 1777, he may have done this: he was alone with Johnson more than usual, and several discussions made Johnson very angry; he may well have waited to record anything until he wrote the journal, for he had no lack of time to devote to this purpose while staying in the quiet country town, and in point of fact he actually kept the journal more fully at this time than at any other. He mentions that he has 'acquired a facility in recollecting his conversation.'[8] This may refer to the effort of memory required in recalling altogether what had been said, as well as to the effort of reconstructing the talk from what he had written down at the moment. In the early part of the 'Life' Boswell says:
In progress of time, when my mind was, as it were, strongly impregnated with the Johnsonian æther, I could, with much more facility and exactness, carry in my memory and commit to paper the exuberant variety of his wisdom and wit.[9]
Here again he may well have had in mind a process of writing the journal with no notes to help him.
All the original documents from which Boswell compiled the 'Life' are concealed from this generation. There are, however—or at least there were—in existence two of Boswell's note-books. Mr. Fitzgerald relates that in Mr. Pocock's 'Johnsonian Catalogue' there was
a note-book in which Boswell jotted down from day to day the actual sayings and doings of the eminent lexicographer. This volume contains literary opinions and aphorisms peculiar to this great man, and of which many have never been published. He gives a specific account of the manner in which he compiled the 'Dictionary,' and relates other matters of interest, bearing on his long literary career and contemporaries.
This manuscript, if it were to be seen, might reveal more definitely what Boswell's method was. The description of it can do nothing but emphasise the use of the 'tablets'; but its value as evidence depends upon its accuracy with regard to the sequence of the notes: if they were really 'jotted down from day to day,' then they are the 'tablets' without a doubt.
The other note-book is 'Boswelliana'; and it is of a different kind.
Boswell kept in a portfolio a quantity of loose quarto sheets, inscribed on each page Boswelliana. In certain of these sheets the pages are denoted by numerals in the ordinary fashion; another portion is numbered by the folios; while a further portion consists of loose leaves and letter-backs. The greater part of the entries are made so carefully as to justify the belief that the author intended to embody the whole in a volume of literary anecdotes.[10]
Emphatically this collection was not 'tablets.' It was probably intended for a particular purpose. Boswell may have had several collections of a similar kind. But it is clear that the purpose of 'Boswelliana' has no connection with the 'Life of Johnson.'[11] Stories of Johnson it does indeed contain; but they are few, and are unconnected by any chronological arrangement. They form only a small part of the whole.
The journal itself was kept in quarto and octavo volumes,[12] and Boswell on one occasion showed it to Sir William Forbes.[13] It seems that his object in doing this was to get an opinion which might encourage him to publish; he quotes with great pleasure in the 'Life' the praise which this gentleman had bestowed upon it. One would suppose that the journal displayed in this way gave the Johnsonian conversations and anecdotes in words almost identical with the text of the 'Life.' In the preface to the 'Corsican Journal' Boswell says of the Paoli memoirs:
As I have related his remarkable sayings, I declare upon my honour, that I have neither added nor diminished; nay, so scrupulous have I been, that I would not make the smallest variation even when my friends thought it would be an improvement. I know with how much pleasure we read what is perfectly authentick.[14]
One might easily expect that the same words would equally well apply to the 'Life.' But this is not the case.
It is reasonable to suppose that the Johnsonian stories in 'Boswelliana' are not less polished than those in the journal; they are themselves in a definite form; and since the journal itself is only the second stage of Boswell's method, these stories must be in a state at the least no less advanced. And yet the verbal differences between these stories and those in the 'Life' are often considerable and sometimes large. The truth is that Boswell's method must have developed very much in one direction from the account he gave of it in the 'Tour to Corsica.' As Dr. Birkbeck Hill has clearly proved, he made changes in the way of 'touching up' the conversations and stories.
One or two instances of these variations will illustrate Boswell's treatment of his materials; the stories are given below in double columns for purpose of comparison.
| Boswelliana | Life |
|---|---|
| 2. Boswell told Mr. Samuel Johnson that a gentleman of their acquaintance maintained in public company that he could see no distinction between virtue and vice. 'Sir,' said Mr. Johnson, 'does he intend that we should believe that he is lying, or that he is in earnest? If we think him a lyar, that is not honouring him very much. But if we think him in earnest, when he leaves our houses let us count our spoons.' | The same gentleman maintained that there was no distinction between virtue and vice. Johnson: 'Why, Sir, if the fellow does not think as he speaks, he is lying; and I see not what honour he can propose to himself from having the character of a liar. But if he does really think that there is no distinction between virtue and vice, why, Sir, when he leaves our houses let us count our spoons.' |
A comparison of the two versions of No. 1 reveals at once the brevity of the final form. It is evident, as Mr. Fitzgerald remarks, that the text itself could not have represented the talk as it came from Johnson's lips. 'The whole is too deliberate, too close, too well winnowed, as it were.' Conversation is more discursive. Boswell's method as we see it here is in the first place to compress—to give not the whole of Johnson's words, but only the essence of them. In the result the story in its last state preserves the most important expressions and is more pointed for being shorter.
The second story in the table has not been cut down in the same fashion. It illustrates very well another process. It is the process, one may say, of Johnsonising. Not only has the argument, as in the former case, been made clearer and more concise, but the words themselves have been considerably altered. The result indicates the reason of these changes. The version in the 'Life' is stronger and more convincing; it has more of the energy of human tongues. The assertion 'he is lying' has more force than the corresponding question: the 'why, Sir,' introduced before the climax gives the proper snort of war before the culminating triumph of the dilemma. Boswell made these changes that he might retain the spirit of Johnson's talk and the atmosphere of the moment as the listeners felt it. He succeeded whenever he added force and directness; one may easily be convinced of this by recalling the uncouth figure with its suggestion of abnormal strength which uttered slowly in a very loud voice, occasionally shaking the head, 'as if to promote the fermentation of his wit.'
A most remarkable instance of the two processes—of compressing and Johnsonising—is furnished by two stories in 'Boswelliana' which become one story in the 'Life.'
The compression and alteration are of the same character as in the two previous stories. The argument is closer and the point clearer; and the effect of the whole is stronger. One verbal change is very striking. One might expect that the image with which Johnson summarises his views would be wholly inviolate. Yet here we see Dover and Calais substituted for Whitechapel and Westminster: probably the reason is that Boswell regrets the phrase he has omitted, 'He is like a man attempting to stride across the English Channel,' and tries to combine the two images.
It must not be forgotten that the stories in 'Boswelliana' were probably not used by Boswell in writing the 'Life.' If they were to be written down in full once only, then why not in the proper Johnsonian stores? Or why should this peculiar collection of 'Boswelliana' take precedence? Some of the stories, indeed, must have been in the journal; the record in 'Boswelliana,' for instance, of Johnson's retort about Scotland—the first remark he made to Boswell—cannot be the only record of the famous meeting in Tom Davies' back parlour; clearly Boswell must have kept a more elaborate account. But though the 'Boswelliana' manuscripts were not used, as seems most likely, it may fairly be argued that the difference between the versions given there and the final forms in the 'Life' are a proper indication of Boswell's method of adapting his material. There is no reason to suppose that Boswell was less accurate in the 'Boswelliana' than in his journal and other Johnsonian stores; or indeed, that there was a great difference between 'Boswelliana' versions and any others in an unfinished state. And it is clear that two versions of a story, both in an unfinished state, must differ from the final form more or less, perhaps, but with the same species of difference.
It is contended, therefore, that Boswell altered his written Johnsoniana in a way which could account for the differences we have observed between the versions of stories in 'Boswelliana' and those in the 'Life.' This proposition, however, casts no reflection upon his reputation for accuracy. He preserved the 'substance and language'; and if he changed some words he preserved the colouring and made the whole a better representation of Johnson.
Boswell himself gives some suggestion of his method when he presents a series of Johnsoniana for which he was indebted to Mr. Langton:
Very few articles in this collection were committed to writing by himself, he not having that habit....
The authenticity of every article is unquestionable. For the expressions, I, who wrote them down, am partly answerable.
By 'unquestionable authenticity' it was meant, no doubt, that the purport of what Johnson said had been correctly reported. In 'Boswelliana' a story told by Mr. Langton is written out with suggestions for its improvement. It may be quoted as a final example of the manner in which Boswell was partly answerable for the expressions:
Johnson had a sovereign contempt for Wilkes and his party, whom he looked upon as a mere rabble. 'Sir,' said he, 'had Wilkes's mob prevailed against Government, this nation would have died of phthiriasis! Mr. Langton told me this. The expression morbus pediculosus, as being better known, would strike more. Lousy disease may be put in a parenthesis.'
[1:] Miss Burney's Diary, ii, 100.
[2:] Tour to Corsica, p. 297.
[3:] Life of Johnson, iii, 183.
[4:] Tour to the Hebrides, p. 434 (Dr. Hill's edition).
[5:] Tour to the Hebrides, Appendix 1.
[6:] Life of Johnson, iii, 270.
[7:] Life of Johnson, ii, 372.
[8:] Life of Johnson, i, 26.
[9:] Ib., i, 421.
[10:] Boswelliana, Grampian Club, 1874. Preface.
[11:] Boswell on one occasion told a lady that her joke should be included in Boswelliana.
[12:] Life of Johnson, iv, 83.
[13:] Ib., iii, 308.
[14:] p. xiii.