“to be indeed a poet, and does not happen to more than one man in a century; but Churchill, the great Churchill, deserved that name.” He made him, more than any other writer, his model.’ Southey’s Cowper, i. 87, 8.
[1246] Mr. Forster says that ‘Churchill asked five guineas for the manuscript of The Rosciad (according to Southey, but Mr. Tooke says he asked twenty pounds).’ Finding no purchaser he brought the poem out at his own risk. Mr. Forster continues:—‘The pulpit had starved him on forty pounds a year; the public had given him a thousand pounds in two months.’ Forster’s Essays, ii. 226, 240. As The Rosciad was sold at one shilling a copy, it seems incredible that such a gain could have been made, even with the profits of The Apology included. ‘Blotting and correcting was so much Churchill’s abhorrence that I have heard from his publisher he once energetically expressed himself, that it was like cutting away one’s own flesh.’ D’Israeli’s Curiosities of Literature, ed. 1834, iii. 129. D’Israeli ‘had heard that after a successful work he usually precipitated the publication of another, relying on its crudeness being passed over by the public curiosity excited by its better brother. He called this getting double pay, for thus he secured the sale of a hurried work.’
[1247] In the opening lines of Gotham, Bk. iii, there is a passage of great beauty and tenderness.
[1248] In 1769 I set Thornton’s burlesque Ode. It was performed at Ranelagh in masks, to a very crowded audience, as I was told; for I then resided in Norfolk. BURNEY. Dr. Burney’s note cannot be correct. He came to reside in London in 1760 (Memoirs of Dr. Burney, i. 133) The Ode is in the list of ‘new books, published’ in the Gent. Mag. for June 1763, and is described as having been performed at Ranelagh.
[1249] The Connoisseur was started by Thornton and Colman in 1754. Cowper and Lloyd were contributors. Southey’s Cowper, i. 46, 49, 65.
[1250] See ante, p. 350, note.
[1251] See post, Aug. 2, 1763, and Oct. 26, 1769.
[1252] See post. Sept. 20, 1777, note.
[1253] The northern bard mentioned page 421. When I asked Dr. Johnson’s permission to introduce him, he obligingly agreed; adding, however, with a sly pleasantry, ‘but he must give us none of his poetry.’ It is remarkable that Johnson and Churchill, however much they differed in other points, agreed on this subject. See Churchill’s Journey.
[‘Under dark Allegory’s flimsy veil
Let Them with Ogilvie spin out a tale
Of rueful length,’
Churchill’s Poems, ii. 329.]
It is, however, but justice to Dr. Ogilvie to observe, that his Day of Judgement has no inconsiderable share of merit. BOSWELL.
[1254] ‘Johnson said:—“Goldsmith should not be for ever attempting to shine in conversation.”’ Post, April 27, 1773. See also post, May 7, 1773.
[1255] Fifteen years later Lord George Germaine, Secretary of State, asserted in a debate ‘that the King “was his own Minister,” which Charles Fox took up admirably, lamenting that His Majesty “was his own unadvised Minister.”’ Walpole’s Journal of the Reign of George III, ii. 314.
[1256] ‘The general story of mankind will evince that lawful and settled authority is very seldom resisted when it is well employed…. Men are easily kept obedient to those who have temporal dominion in their hands, till their veneration is dissipated by such wickedness and folly as can neither be defended nor concealed.’ The Rambler, No. 50. See post, March 31, 1772.
[1257] ‘It is natural to believe … that no writer has a more easy task than the historian. The philosopher has the works of omniscience to examine…. The poet trusts to his invention…. But the happy historian has no other labour than of gathering what tradition pours down before him, or records treasure for his use.’ The Rambler, No. 122.
[1258] See Boswell’s Hebrides, Aug. 21, 1773.
[1259] ‘Arbuthnot was a man of great comprehension, skilful in his profession, versed in the sciences, acquainted with ancient literature, and able to animate his mass of knowledge by a bright and active imagination; a scholar with great brilliancy of wit; a wit, who in the crowd of life retained and discovered a noble ardour of religious zeal.’ Johnson’s Works, viii. 296.
[1260] Goldsmith wrote from Edinburgh in 1753:—‘Shall I tire you with a description of this unfruitful country, where I must lead you over their hills all brown with heath, or their vallies scarce able to feed a rabbit? Man alone seems to be the only creature who has arrived to the natural size in this poor soil. Every part of the country presents the same dismal landscape.’ Forster’s Goldsmith, i. 433.
[1261] See Boswell’s Hebrides, Nov. 10, 1773.
[1262] Johnson would suffer none of his friends to fill up chasms in conversation with remarks on the weather: ‘Let us not talk of the weather.’ BURNEY.
[1263] See ante, p. 332.
[1264] Boswell wrote to Temple on Sept. 9, 1767:—‘How unaccountable is it that my father and I should be so ill together! He is a man of sense and a man of worth; but from some unhappy turn in his disposition he is much dissatisfied with a son whom you know. I write to him with warmth, with an honest pride, wishing that he should think of me as I am; but my letters shock him, and every expression in them is interpreted unfavourably. To give you an instance, I send you a letter I had from him a few days ago. How galling is it to the friend of Paoli to be treated so! I have answered him in my own style; I will be myself.’ Letters of Boswell, p. 110. In the following passage in one of his Hypochondriacks he certainly describes his father. ‘I knew a father who was a violent Whig, and used to attack his son for being a Tory, upbraiding him with being deficient in “noble sentiments of liberty,” while at the same time he made this son live under his roof in such bondage, that he was not only afraid to stir from home without leave, like a child, but durst scarcely open his mouth in his father’s presence. This was sad living. Yet I would rather see such an excess of awe than a degree of familiarity between father and son by which all reverence is destroyed.’ London Mag. 1781, p. 253.
[1265] Boswell, the day after this talk, wrote:—‘I have had a long letter from my father, full of affection and good counsel. Honest man! he is now very happy: it is amazing to think how much he has had at heart, my pursuing the road of civil life.’ Letters of Boswell, p. 25.
[1266] Gray, says Nicholls, ‘disliked all poetry in blank verse, except Milton.’ Gray’s Works, ed. 1858, v. 36. Goldsmith, in his Present State of Polite Learning (ch. xi.), wrote in 1759:—‘From a desire in the critic of grafting the spirit of ancient languages upon the English have proceeded of late several disagreeable instances of pedantry. Among the number, I think, we may reckon blank verse. Nothing but the greatest sublimity of subject can render such a measure pleasing; however, we now see it used upon the most trivial occasions.’ On the same page he speaks of ‘the tuneless flow of our blank verse.’ See post, 1770, in Dr. Maxwell’s Collectanea and the beginning of 1781, under The Life of Milton, for Johnson’s opinion of blank verse.
[1267] ‘Johnson told me, that one day in London, when Dr. Adam Smith was boasting of Glasgow, he turned to him and said, “Pray, Sir, have you ever seen Brentford?’” Boswell’s Hebrides, Oct. 29, 1773. See post, April 29, 1778.
[1268] ‘He advised me to read just as inclination prompted me, which alone, he said, would do me any good; for I had better go into company than read a set task. He said, too, that I should prescribe to myself five hours a day, and in these hours gratify whatever literary desires may spring up.’ Letters of Boswell, p. 28. The Editor of these Letters compares Tranio’s advice:—
‘No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en:
In brief, Sir, study