notion of the situation of our ideas which we have totally forgotten at the time, yet shall afterwards recollect. He paused, meditated a little, and acknowledged his ignorance in the spirit of a philosophical poet by repeating as a very happy allusion a passage in Thomson’s Seasons—“Aye,” said he, “Where sleep the winds when it is calm?”’ London Mag. 1783, p. 157. The passage is in Thomson’s Winter, l. 116:—
‘In what far-distant region of the sky,
Hush’d in deep silence, sleep ye when ‘tis calm?’
[1290] See post, ii. 54, note 3.
[1291] Bernard Lintot, the father, published Pope’s Iliad and Odyssey. Over the sale of the Odyssey a quarrel arose between the two men. Johnson’s Works, viii. 251, 274. Lintot is attacked in the Dunciad, i. 40 and ii. 53; He was High-Sheriff for Sussex in 1736—the year of his death. Gent. Mag. vi. 110. The son is mentioned in Johnson’s Works, viii. 282.
[1292] ‘July 19, 1763. I was with Mr. Johnson to-day. I was in his garret up four pair of stairs; it is very airy, commands a view of St. Paul’s and many a brick roof. He has many good books, but they are all lying in confusion and dust.’ Letters of Boswell, p. 30. On Good Friday, 1764, Johnson made the following entry:—‘I hope to put my rooms in order: Disorder I have found one great cause of idleness.’ On his birthday in the same year he wrote:—‘Tomorrow I purpose to regulate my room.’ Pr. and Med. pp. 50, 60.
[1293] See ante, p. 140, and post, under Sept. 9, 1779.
[1294] Afterwards Rector of Mamhead, Devonshire. He is the grandfather of the present Bishop of London. He and Boswell had been fellow-students at the University of Edinburgh, and seemed in youth to have had an equal amount of conceit. ‘Recollect,’ wrote Boswell, ‘how you and I flattered ourselves that we were to be the greatest men of our age.’ Letters of Boswell, p. 159. They began to correspond at least as early as 1758. The last letter was one from Boswell on his death-bed. Johnson thus mentions Temple (Works, viii. 480):—‘Gray’s character I am willing to adopt, as Mr. Mason has done, from a letter written to my friend Mr. Boswell by the Revd. Mr. Temple, Rector of St. Gluvias in Cornwall; and am as willing as his warmest well-wisher to believe it true.’
[1295] Johnson (Works, vii. 240) quotes the following by Edmund Smith, and written some time after 1708:—‘It will sound oddly to posterity, that, in a polite nation, in an enlightened age, under the direction of the most literary property in 1710, whether by wise, most learned, and most generous encouragers of knowledge in the world, the property of a mechanick should be better secured than that of a scholar! that the poorest manual operations should be more valued than the noblest products of the brain! that it should be felony to rob a cobbler of a pair of shoes, and no crime to deprive the best authour of his whole subsistence! that nothing should make a man a sure title to his own writings but the stupidity of them!’ See post, May 8, 1773, and Feb.7, 1774; and Boswell’s Hebrides, Aug. 17 and 20, 1773.
[1296] The question arose, after the passing of the first statute respecting literary property in 1710, whether by certain of its provisions this perpetual copyright at common law was extinguished for the future. The question was solemnly argued before the Court of King’s Bench, when Lord Mansfield presided, in 1769. The result was a decision in favour of the common-law right as unaltered by the statute, with the disapproval however of Mr. Justice Yates. In 1774 the same point was brought before the House of Lords, and the decision of the court below reversed by a majority of six judges in eleven, as Lord Mansfield, who adhered to the opinion of the minority, declined to interfere; it being very unusual, from motives of delicacy, for a peer to support his own judgment on appeal to the House of Lords. Penny Cylco. viii. I. See post, Feb. 7, 1774. Lord Shelburne, on Feb 27, 1774, humourously describes the scene in the Lords to the Earl of Chatham:—‘Lord Mansfield showed himself the merest Captain Bobadil that, I suppose, ever existed in real life. You can, perhaps, imagine to yourself the Bishop of Carlyle, an old metaphysical head of a college, reading a paper, not a speech, out of an old sermon book, with very bad sight leaning on the table, Lord Mansfield sitting at it, with eyes of fixed melancholy looking at him, knowing that the bishop’s were the only eyes in the House who could not meet his; the judges behind him, full of rage at being drawn into so absurd an opinion, and abandoned in it by their chief; the Bishops waking, as your Lordship knows they do, just before they vote, and staring on finding something the matter; while Lord Townshend was close to the bar, getting Mr. Dunning to put up his glass to look at the head of criminal justice.’ Chatham Corres. iv. 327.
[1297] See post April 15 1778, note.
[1298] Dr. Franklin (Memoirs iii. 178), complaining of the high prices of English books, describes ‘the excessive artifices made use of to puff up a paper of verses into a pamphlet, a pamphlet into an octavo, and an octavo into a quarto with white-lines, exorbitant margins, &c., to such a degree that the selling of paper seems now the object, and printing on it only the pretence.’
[1299] Boswell was on friendly terms with him. He wrote to Erskine on Dec. 2, 1761:—‘I am just now returned from eating a most excellent pig with the most magnificent Donaldson.’ Boswell and Erskine Correspondence, p. 20.
[1300] Dr. Carlyle (Auto. p. 516) says that Lord Mansfield this year (1769) ‘talking of Hume and Robertson’s Histories, said that though he could point out few or no faults in them, yet, when he was reading their books, he did not think he was reading English.’ See post, ii. 72, for Hume’s Scotticisms. Hume went to France in 1734 when he was 23 years old and stayed there three years. Hume’s Autobiography, p. vii. He never mastered French colloquially. Lord Charlemont, who met him in Turin in 1748, says:—‘His speech in English was rendered ridiculous by the broadest Scotch accent, and his French was, if possible, still more laughable.’ Hardy’s Charlemont, i. 15. Horace Walpole, who met him in Paris in 1765, writes (Letters, iv. 426):—‘Mr. Hume is the only thing in the world that they [the French] believe implicitly; which they must do, for I defy them to understand any language that he speaks.’ Gibbon (Misc. Works, i. 122) says of Hume’s writings:—‘Their careless inimitable beauties often forced me to close the volume with a mixed sensation of delight and despair.’ Dr. Beattie (Life, p. 243) wrote on Jan. 5, 1778:—‘We who live in Scotland are obliged to study English from books, like a dead language, which we understand, but cannot speak.’ He adds:—‘I have spent some years in labouring to acquire the art of giving a vernacular cast to the English we write.’ Dr. A. Carlyle (Auto, p. 222) says:—‘Since we began to affect speaking a foreign language, which the English dialect is to us, humour, it must be confessed, is less apparent in conversation.’
[1301] Discours sur L’origine et les fondemens de l’inégalité parmi les hommes, 1754.
[1302] ‘I have indeed myself observed that my banker ever bows lowest to me when I wear my full-bottomed wig, and writes me Mr. or Esq., accordingly as he sees me dressed.’ Spectator, No. 150.
[1303] Mr. Croker, quoting Mr. Wright, says:—’See his Quantulumanque (sic) concerning Money.’ I have read Petty’s Quantulumcunque, but do not find the passage in it.
[1304] Johnson told Dr. Burney that Goldsmith said, when he first began to write, he determined to commit to paper nothing but what was new; but he afterwards found that what was new was false, and from that time was no longer solicitous about novelty. BURNEY. Mr. Forster (Life of Goldsmith, i. 421) says that this note ‘is another instance of the many various and doubtful forms in which stories about Johnson and Goldsmith are apt to appear when once we lose sight of the trustworthy Boswell. This is obviously a mere confused recollection of what is correctly told by Boswell [post, March 26, 1779].’ There is much truth in Mr. Forster’s general remark: nevertheless Burney likely enough repeated to the best of his memory what he had himself heard from Johnson.
[1305] ‘Their [the ancient moralists’] arguments have been, indeed, so unsuccessful, that I know not whether it can be shewn, that by all the wit and reason