Boswell the Biographer

by George Mallory

At Sir Joshua Reynolds' dinner he must have suffered acutely. Croker tells the story of Boswell's discomfiture as it was told to him at fourth-hand by the Marquess of Wellesley. 'The wits of Queen Anne's reign were talked of, when Boswell exclaimed, "How delightful it must have been to have lived in the society of Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, Gay, and Bolingbroke! We have no such society in our days." Sir Joshua answered, "I think, Mr. Boswell, you might be satisfied with your great friend's conversation." "Nay, Sir, Mr. Boswell is right," said Johnson, "every man wishes for preferment, and if Boswell had lived in those days, he would have obtained promotion." "How so, Sir?" asked Sir Joshua. "Why, Sir," said Johnson, "he would have had a high place in the Dunciad."' It was a hard blow. How deep was the wound we cannot tell, because we do not know how it was said or how received. It is curious at first sight that Boswell should have been more sulky about this than about many a rough retort recorded in the 'Life.' It is even more remarkable that he should have concealed this story of his humiliation while he told others with perfect frankness. To do so was entirely contrary to his principle and practice. The idea that 'the several people there by no means of the Johnsonian school' should read the story, recall the circumstances and laugh, not good-naturedly but with contempt and malice, must have overcome for once the biographer's 'sacred love of truth.' From QUARREL AND RECONCILIATION these facts, in any case, we may fairly argue that Boswell suffered from his pride as a proud man must have suffered from the Doctor's rude snubs. It is to Boswell's credit that he was willing to run the gauntlet and even to bare his breast for the wound, not only because if he was to have the honour he must endure the pain, but at least as much because he knew that it was his vocation to goad the giant into action, to strike and fan the spark that would ignite the powder. It is to Boswell's credit that he had a part in the fray: he bled from honourable wounds. But since men had been so ill-natured as to despise them it was difficult to display the gashes and the scars; and because from a noble motive he did what was most difficult and most valuable we must praise Boswell exceedingly.

It is further to Boswell's credit that, if he winced for a moment under the sledge-hammer and pouted at the executioner, his natural good-humour and generosity made reconciliation easy.

On Friday, May 8, I dined with him at Mr. Langton's. I was reserved and silent, which I suppose he perceived and might recollect the cause. After dinner, while Mr. Langton was called out of the room, and we were by ourselves, he drew his chair near to mine, and said, in a tone of conciliating courtesy, 'Well, how have you done?' Boswell: 'Sir, you have made me very uneasy by your behaviour to me when we were last at Sir Joshua Reynolds'. You know, my dear Sir, no man has a greater respect and affection for you, or would sooner go to the end of the world to serve you. Now to treat me so——.' He insisted that I had interrupted him, which I assured him was not the case and proceeded—'But why treat me so before people who neither love you nor me?' Johnson: 'Well, I am sorry for it. I'll make it up to you i' twenty different ways as you please.'

Johnson certainly seems to have made himself most agreeable on this occasion, and it would have been churlish of Boswell to have resisted these advances; but nothing could be more truly generous than the way in which he reminded Johnson of his affection and respect. Boswell now proceeds to appease his pride by using the occasion to make a bon mot. 'I said to-day to Sir Joshua, when he observed that you tossed me sometimes—"I don't care how often or how high he tosses me, when only friends are present, for then I fall upon soft ground: but I do not like falling on stones, which is the case when enemies are present." I think this is a pretty good image, Sir.' Johnson assents, with unusual courtesy, 'Sir it is one of the happiest I have ever heard.' And Boswell is now completely satisfied. The account proceeds by giving Johnson a testimonial for good-nature and assuring its readers that the best of relations were at once re-established. 'The truth is, there was no venom in the wounds he inflicted at any time, unless they were irritated by some malignant infusion from other hands. We were instantly as cordial again as ever, and joined HUMILIATION AND ITS REWARD in hearty laugh at some ludicrous but innocent peculiarities of one of our friends.'

The story of this quarrel, if there were no other evidence, would show that Boswell endured not a few rebuffs. The fact indeed has never been challenged. Johnson's method of talking for victory often took the form of mere rudeness, and Boswell was frequently the subject of his rough wit. For Boswell it was a question whether the fun and the interest of making Johnson angry were worth the sacrifice of dignity involved. In retrospect it always was so, and, at the moment too, very often. He tells us how, on one occasion, he had quoted Shakespeare in the course of discussion, and Johnson, who was angry, had made the characteristic reply, 'Nay, if you are to bring in gabble I'll talk no more'; it is evident that this was regarded by him as a successful issue to the argument. Johnson had become angrier and angrier, and Boswell, far from trying to appease him, was glad to bring him to a state of entire unreasonableness. He was conscious of this when he commented with evident pleasure, 'My readers will decide upon this dispute.'

There is something of the same spirit in the tale which Boswell tells of the quarrel on the moor during the Tour in the Hebrides. Boswell towards the end of a day had the not unnatural intention of going on ahead to make preparations at the inn.

It grew dusky; and we had a very tedious ride for what was called five miles; but I am sure would measure ten. We had no conversation. I was riding forward to the inn at Glenelg, on the opposite shore to Skye, that I might take proper measures, before Dr. Johnson, who was now advancing in dreary silence, Hay leading his horse, should arrive. Vass also walked by the side of his horse, and Joseph followed behind: as therefore he was thus attended, and seemed to be in deep meditation, I thought there could be no harm in leaving him for a little while.

Boswell indeed seems to have been particularly thoughtful and even shows some delicacy in not interrupting Johnson's meditations to tell him his plan. The sequel must have surprised him very much. 'He called me back with a tremendous shout, and was really in a passion with me for leaving him. I told him my intentions, but he was not satisfied, and said, "Do you know I should as soon have thought of picking a pocket as doing so?"' This did not annoy Boswell in the least, though it took place in the presence of their servants; he was accustomed by this time to the Doctor's moods, and could only be amused. He replied with a composure which he must have known would irritate Johnson exceedingly; 'I am diverted with you, Sir.' The force of the desired explosion may have been underestimated. 'Johnson: "Sir, I could never be diverted with incivility...." His extraordinary warmth confounded me so much, that I justified myself but lamely to him. Matters in fact were QUARREL IN THE HEBRIDES rather more serious than Boswell had supposed, and he must now make an effort to pacify his companion—but without effect. 'I resumed the subject of my leaving him on the road, and endeavoured to defend it better. He still was violent on that head, and said, "Sir, had you gone on, I was thinking that I should have returned with you to Edinburgh, and then have parted from you, and never spoken to you more."' The storm was indeed a bad one that did not clear up entirely by bedtime. Boswell felt distinctly uneasy in the volcanic atmosphere; but he easily effected a complete reconciliation.