The Life of Samuel Johnson, vol 3 | Page 7

which, I flattered myself, he
and Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson were soon to set out; and, therefore, I
pressed it as much as I could. I mentioned, that Mr. Beauclerk had said,
that Baretti, whom they were to carry with them, would keep them so
long in the little towns of his own district, that they would not have
time to see Rome. I mentioned this, to put them on their guard.
JOHNSON. 'Sir, we do not thank Mr. Beauclerk for supposing that we
are to be directed by Baretti. No, Sir; Mr. Thrale is to go, by my advice,
to Mr. Jackson[51], (the all-knowing) and get from him a plan for
seeing the most that can be seen in the time that we have to travel. We
must, to be sure, see Rome, Naples, Florence, and Venice, and as much
more as we can.' (Speaking with a tone of animation.)
When I expressed an earnest wish for his remarks on Italy, he said, 'I do
not see that I could make a book upon Italy[52]; yet I should be glad to
get two hundred pounds, or five hundred pounds, by such a work.' This
shewed both that a journal of his Tour upon the Continent was not
wholly out of his contemplation, and that he uniformly adhered to that
strange opinion, which his indolent disposition made him utter: 'No
man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money[53].' Numerous
instances to refute this will occur to all who are versed in the history of
literature.[54]
He gave us one of the many sketches of character which were treasured
in his mind, and which he was wont to produce quite unexpectedly in a
very entertaining manner. 'I lately, (said he,) received a letter from the
East Indies, from a gentleman whom I formerly knew very well; he had
returned from that country with a handsome fortune, as it was reckoned,
before means were found to acquire those immense sums which have
been brought from thence of late; he was a scholar, and an agreeable

man, and lived very prettily in London, till his wife died. After her
death, he took to dissipation and gaming, and lost all he had. One
evening he lost a thousand pounds to a gentleman whose name I am
sorry I have forgotten. Next morning he sent the gentleman five
hundred pounds, with an apology that it was all he had in the world.
The gentleman sent the money back to him, declaring he would not
accept of it; and adding, that if Mr. ---- had occasion for five hundred
pounds more, he would lend it to him. He resolved to go out again to
the East Indies, and make his fortune anew. He got a considerable
appointment, and I had some intention of accompanying him. Had I
thought then as I do now, I should have gone: but, at that time, I had
objections to quitting England.'
It was a very remarkable circumstance about Johnson, whom shallow
observers have supposed to have been ignorant of the world, that very
few men had seen greater variety of characters; and none could observe
them better, as was evident from the strong, yet nice portraits which he
often drew. I have frequently thought that if he had made out what the
French call une catalogue raisonnée of all the people who had passed
under his observation, it would have afforded a very rich fund of
instruction and entertainment. The suddenness with which his accounts
of some of them started out in conversation, was not less pleasing than
surprising. I remember he once observed to me, 'It is wonderful, Sir,
what is to be found in London. The most literary conversation that I
ever enjoyed, was at the table of Jack Ellis, a money-scrivener behind
the Royal Exchange, with whom I at one period used to dine generally
once a week[55].'
Volumes would be required to contain a list of his numerous and
various acquaintance[56], none of whom he ever forgot; and could
describe and discriminate them all with precision and vivacity. He
associated with persons the most widely different in manners, abilities,
rank and accomplishments[57]. He was at once the companion of the
brilliant Colonel Forrester[58] of the Guards, who wrote The Polite
Philosopher, and of the aukward and uncouth Robert Levet; of Lord
Thurlow, and Mr. Sastres, the Italian master; and has dined one day
with the beautiful, gay, and fascinating Lady Craven,[59] and the next

with good Mrs. Gardiner,[60] the tallow-chandler, on Snow-hill.
On my expressing my wonder at his discovering so much of the
knowledge peculiar to different professions, he told me, 'I learnt what I
know of law, chiefly from Mr. Ballow,[61] a very able man. I learnt
some, too, from Chambers;[62] but was not