'But Don't Think Foolishly'

You can tell a lot about a person by the things he chooses to get angry about, how angry he wants to get, and how long he wishes to remain angry. Anger is just one of a thousand emotional options available to us, and is never fated except among the mentally ill, though many adopt anger and stick with it for good. Its attractiveness is the sense of power that accompanies it. Seriously angry people experience a surge of righteousness and strength the rest of us may never know. They tend to be unaware that anger is tiresome to spectators. When someone chooses to get angry, we generally ignore them. Anger is the toddler’s choice. Adults keep it safely packed away and reserve it for special occasions.     

On this date, May 15, in 1783, Boswell in the Life says, “I wish much to be in Parliament, Sir,” and Johnson replies, “Why, Sir, unless you come resolved to support any administration, you would be the worse for being in Parliament, because you would be obliged to live more expensively.”

Boswell: “Perhaps, Sir, I should be the less happy for being in Parliament. I never would sell my vote, and I should be vexed if things went wrong.”

Johnson: “That’s cant, Sir. It would not vex you more in the house than in the gallery: publick affairs vex no man.”

Boswell: “Have not they vexed yourself a little, Sir? Have not you been vexed by all the turbulence of this reign, and by that absurd vote of the House of Commons, ‘That the influence of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished?’”

Johnson: “Sir, I have never slept an hour less, nor eat an ounce less meat. I would have knocked the factious dogs on the head, to be sure; but I was not vexed.”

Up to this point, both men are playing their assigned roles: Boswell the provocateur, Johnson his contrary respondent. Now Boswell pivots and concedes Johnson’s point. The emphasis shifts from vex to cant: “I declare, Sir, upon my honour, I did imagine I was vexed, and took a pride in it; but it was, perhaps, cant; for I own I neither eat less, nor slept less.”

Johnson replies with one of his best-known lines: “My dear friend, clear your mind of cant. You may talk as other people do: you may say to a man, ‘Sir, I am your most humble servant.’ You are not his most humble servant. You may say, ‘These are bad times; it is a melancholy thing to be reserved at such times.’ You don't mind the times. You tell a man, ‘I am sorry you had such bad weather the last day of your journey, and were so much wet.’ You don't care six-pence whether he is wet or dry. You may talk in this manner; it is a mode of talking in Society: but don't think foolishly.”

The OED’s entry for cant: “phraseology taken up and used for fashion’s sake, without being a genuine expression of sentiment; canting language.” Much of what we hear and read fits this definition. An earlier meaning is revealing: “the secret language or jargon used by gipsies, thieves, professional beggars.” In current parlance, the usual bullshit.