Scotsman James Boswell always spoke good English when in England, but he was careful to leave a little Scots in.
James Boswell, Dr Johnson’s Scottish friend, believed that when anyone moves to a new area, the locals should not have to sweat at trying to understand him for any longer than is necessary. Migrants such as he was have a duty to learn to speak good English — but not too good.
After Oliver Goldsmith’s landlady lost patience with her cash-strapped tenant, Dr Johnson took charge and a literary classic entered the world.
Irish novelist and playwright Oliver Goldsmith (1730-1774) was perpetually hard up, living hand-to-mouth on his writing. There came a day however when his landlady lost patience, and would not let her tenant out of her sight until he paid up. Goldsmith turned in desperation to his friend Samuel Johnson, the famous critic and lexicographer.
Dr Johnson’s cat left James Boswell cold, but the great man himself would do anything to avoid hurting the little fellow’s feelings.
Dr Samuel Johnson has a reputation today as a master of put-downs and unkind cracks, but his private prayers and various passages from James Boswell’s biography show another, much gentler side. Here, we meet Hodge, the distinguished lexicographer’s cat in the 1760s.
A literary man tries to trick Samuel Johnson into an honest opinion, which was neither necessary nor very rewarding.
James Macpherson published two poems, ‘Fingal’ in 1762 and ‘Temora’ a year later, which he said were translations of Irish oral tradition. He attributed them to Ossian, the legendary 3rd century Irish bard, who told of the ‘endless battles and unhappy loves’ of his father Fingal and son Oscar. Dr Johnson was, like most modern scholars, unconvinced.