and have hitherto left very few passages unexplained; where I am quite at loss, I confess my ignorance, which is seldom done by commentators.

'I have likewise enclosed twelve receipts; not that I mean to impose upon you the trouble of pushing them with more importunity than may seem proper, but that you may rather have more than fewer than you shall want. The proposals you will disseminate as there shall be an opportunity. I once printed them at length in the Chronicle, and some of my friends (I believe Mr. Murphy, who formerly wrote the Gray's Inn Journal) introduced them with a splendid encomium.

'Since the Life of Browne I have been a little engaged, from time to time, in the Literary Magazine, but not very lately. I have not the collection by me, and therefore cannot draw out a catalogue of my own parts, but will do it, and send it. Do not buy them, for I will gather all those that have anything of mine in them, and send them to Mrs. Burney, as a small token of gratitude for the regard which she is pleased to bestow upon me.-I am, sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

Dr. Burney has kindly favoured me with the following memorandum, which I take the liberty to insert in his own genuine easy style. I love to exhibit sketches of my illustrious friend by various eminent hands :

Soon after this, Mr. Burney, during a visit to the capital, had an interview with him in Gough Square, where he dined and drank tea with him, and was introduced to the acquaintance of Mrs. Williams. After dinner, Mr. Johnson proposed to Mr. Burney to go up with him into his garret; which being accepted, he there found about five or six Greek folios, a deal writing desk, and a chair and a half. Johnson giving to his guest the entire seat, tottered himself on one with only three legs and one arm. Here he gave Mr. Burney Mrs. Williams's history, and showed him some volumes of his Shakspeare already printed to prove that he was in earnest. Upon Mr. Burney's opening the first volume, at the "Merchant of Venice," he observed to him, that he seemed to be more severe on Warburton than Theobald. "O poor Tib!" said Johnson, "he was ready knocked down to my hands; Warburton stands between me and him." But, sir," said Mr. Burney, "you'll have Warburton upon your bones, won't you?" "No, sir; he'll not come out: he'll only growl in his den." "But you think, sir, that Warburton is a superior critic to Theobald?" "O, sir, he'd make two and fifty Theobalds, cut into slices! The worst of Warburton is, that he has a rage for saying something, when there's nothing to be said."-Mr. Burney then asked him whether he had seen the letter which War

66

ON the 15th of April he began a new periodical paper, entitled the Idler [*], which came out every Saturday in a weekly newspaper, called the Universal Chronicle, or Weekly Gazette, published by Newbery.' These essays were continued till April 5, 1760. Of one hundred and three, their total number, twelve were contributed by his friends; of which Nos. 33, 93, and 96 were written by Mr. Thomas Warton; No. 67 by Mr. Langton; and Nos. 76, 79, and 82 by Sir Joshua Reynolds; the concluding words of No. 82, and pollute his canvas with deformity,' being added by Johnson, as Sir Joshua informed

me.

The Idler is evidently the work of the same mind which produced the Rambler, but has less body and more spirit. It has more variety of real life, and greater facility of language. He describes the miseries of idleness with the lively sensations of one who has felt them; and in his private memorandums while engaged in it, we find, "This year I hope to learn diligence.' 2 Many of these excellent essays were written as hastily as an ordinary letter. Mr. Langton remembers Johnson, when on a visit at Oxford, asking him one evening how long it was till the post went out; and on being told about half an hour, he exclaimed, Then we shall do very well.' He, upon this, instantly sat down and finished an Idler, which it was necessary should be in London the next day. Mr. Langton having signified a wish to read it, 'Sir,' said he, 'you shall not do more than I have done myself." He then folded it up, and sent it off.

Yet there are in the Idler several papers which show as much profundity of thought and labour of language as any of this great man's writings. No. 14, Robbery of time;' No. 24, Thinking;' No. 41, 'Death of a friend;' No.

This is a slight mistake. The first number of the Idler appeared on the 15th of April 1758, in No. 2 of the Universal Chronicle, etc., which was published by J. Payne, for whom also the Rambler had been printed. On the 29th of April this newspaper assumed the title of Payne's Universal Chronicle, etc.-MALONE.

2 Prayers and Meditations, p. 30.—BOSWELL

43, 'Flight of time;' No. 51, 'Domestic greatness unattainable;' No. 52, 'Self-denial;' No. 58, 'Actual, how short of fancied, excellence ;' No. 89, Physical evil moral good;' and his concluding paper on 'The horror of the last,' will prove this assertion. I know not why a motto, the usual trapping of periodical papers, is prefixed to very few of the Idlers, as I have heard Johnson commend the custom: and he never could be at a loss for one, his memory being stored with innumerable passages of the classics. In this series of essays he exhibits admirable instances of grave humour, of which he had an uncommon share. Nor on some occasions has he repressed that power of sophistry which he possessed in so eminent a degree. In No. 11 he treats with the utmost contempt the opinion that our mental faculties depend in some degree upon the weather; an opinion which they who have never experienced its truths are not to be envied, and of which he himself could not but be sensible, as the effects of weather upon him were very visible. Yet thus he declaims:

'Surely nothing is more reproachful to a being endowed with reason, than to resign its powers to the influence of the air, and live in dependence on the weather and the wind for the only blessings which nature has put into our power--tranquillity and benevolence. This distinction of seasons is produced only by imagination operating on luxury. To temperance, every day is bright; and every hour is propitious to diligence. He that shall resolutely excite his faculties or exert his virtues will soon make himself superior to the seasons, and may set at defiance the morning mist and the evening damp, the blasts of the east, and the clouds of the south.'

Alas! it is too certain that where the frame

has delicate fibres, and there is a fine sensibility,

such influences of the air are irresistible. He might as well have bid defiance to the ague, the

or turned his eyes sometimes to the ceiling and sometimes to the floor,'

A casual coincidence with other writers, or an adoption of a sentiment or image which has been found in the writings of another, and afterwards appears in the mind of one's own, is not unfrequent. The richness of Johnson's fancy, which could supply his page abundantly on all occasions, and the strength of his memory, which at once detected the real owner of any thought, made him less liable to the imputation of plagiarism than perhaps any of our writers. In the Idler, however, there is a paper in which conversation is assimilated to a bowl of punch, where there is the same train of comparison as in a poem by Blacklock, in his collection published in 1756, in which a parallel is ingeniously drawn between human life and that liquor. It ends:

'Say then, physicians of each kind,
Who cure the body or the mind,
What harm in drinking can there be,
Since punch and life so well agree?'

To the Idler, when collected in volumes, he added, beside the Essay on Epitaphs, and the Dissertation on those of Pope, an Essay on the Bravery of the English common Soldiers. He, however, omitted one of the original papers, which in the folio copy is No. 22.1

TO THE REV. MR. THOMAS WARTON.

'LONDON, April 14, 1758. 'DEAR SIR,--Your notes upon my poet were very acceptable. I beg that you will be so kind as to continue your searches. It will be repusorship, to have something of yours in the notes. table to my work, and suitable to your profesAs you have given no directions about your name, I shall therefore put it. I wish your brother would take the same trouble. A com

mentary must arise from the fortuitous discoveries of many men in devious walks of literature. Some of your remarks are on plays already

'I think the Romans call it Stoicism.'

But in this number of his Idler, his spirits seem to run riot; for in the wantonness of his disquisition he forgets for a moment even the reverence for that which he held in high respect, and describes the attendant on a Court' as one whose business it is to watch the looks of a being weak and foolish as himself.'

His unqualified ridicule of rhetorical gesture or action is not surely a test of truth; yet we cannot help admiring how well it is adapted to produce the effect which he wished:

Neither the judges of our laws nor the representatives of our people would be much affected by laboured gesticulations, or believe any man the more because he rolled his eyes, or puffed his cheeks, or spread abroad his arms, or stamped the ground, or thumped his breast,

Notes, so that nothing comes too late.

'You give yourself too much uneasiness, dear sir, about the loss of the papers. The loss is nothing, if nobody has found them; nor even then, perhaps, if the numbers be known. You are not the only friend that has had the same mischance. You may repair your want out of a stock which is deposited with Mr. Allen, of Magdalen Hall, or out of a parcel which I have just sent to Mr. Chambers,3 for the use of any body that will be so kind as to want them. Mr. Langtons are well; and Miss Roberts, whom

1 This paper may be found in Stockdale's supplemen tal volume of Johnson's Miscellaneous Pieces. -BosWELL.

2 Receipts for Shakspeare.-WARTON.

3 Then of Lincoln College, Now Sir Robert Chambers, one of the Judges in India. -WARTON.

may be derived from error must be, like its original, fallacious and fugitive.-I am, dear, dear sir, your most humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

In 1759, in the month of January, his mother died at the great age of ninety, an event which deeply affected him; not that 'his mind had acquired no firmness by the contemplation of mortality," but that his reverential affection for her was not abated by years, as indeed he retained all his tender feelings even to the latest period of his life. I have been told that he regretted much his not having gone to visit his mother for several years previous to her death. But he was constantly engaged in literary labours, which confined him to London; and though he had not the comfort of seeing his aged parent, he contributed liberally to her support.

"TO MRS. JOHNSON, IN LICHFIELD."

'Jan. 13, 1758.3 'HONOURED MADAM, The account which Miss [Porter] gives me of your health, pierces my heart. God comfort, and preserve you, and save you, for the sake of Jesus Christ.

'I would have Miss read to you from time to time the Passion of our Saviour, and sometimes the sentences in the Communion Service-Come unto me, all ye that travail and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

'I have just now read a physical book, which inclines me to think that a strong infusion of the bark would do you good. Do, dear mother, try it.

'Pray, send me your blessing, and forgive all that I have done amiss to you. And whatever you would have done, and what debts you would have paid first, or anything else that you would direct, let Miss put it down; I shall endeavour to obey you.

'I have got twelve guineas to send you, but unhappily am at a loss how to send it to-night. If I cannot send it to-night, it will come by the next post.

'Pray do not omit anything mentioned in

1 Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 395.-BOSWELL.

Since the publication of the third edition of this work, the following letters of Dr. Johnson, occasioned by the last illness of his mother, were obligingly communicated to Mr. Malone by the Rev. Dr. Vyse. They are placed here agreeably to the chronological order almost uniformly observed by the author; and so strongly evince Dr. Johnson's piety and tenderness of heart, that every reader must be gratified by their inBertion-MALONE.

Written by mistake for 1759, as the subsequent letters show. In the next letter he had inadvertently falien into the same error, but corrected it. On the de of the letter of the 13th was written by another hand, Pray acknowledge the receipt of this by return of the post, without fail.-MALONE.

* Six of these twelve guineas Johnson appears to have horrowed from Mr. Allen, the printer. See Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 366, n.—MALONE.

this letter. God bless you for ever and ever. 'SAM. JOHNSON.' I am, your dutiful son,

'TO MISS PORTER, AT MRS. JOHNSON'S, IN

LICHFIELD.

'Jan. 16, 1759.

1

'MY DEAR MISS,-I think myself obliged to you beyond all expression of gratitude for your care of my dear mother. God grant it may not be without success. Tell Kitty that I shall never forget her tenderness for her mistress. Whatever you can do, continue to do. My heart is very full.

'I hope you received twelve guineas on Monday. I found a way of sending them by means of the Postmaster, after I had written my letter, and hope they came safe. I will send you more in a few days. God bless you all.-I am, my dear, your most obliged and most humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON. 'Over the leaf is a letter to my mother.'

'Jan. 16, 1759. 'DEAR HONOURED MOTHER,-Your weakness afflicts me beyond what I am willing to communicate to you. I do not think you unfit to face death, but I know not how to bear the thought of losing you. Endeavour to do all you [can] for yourself. Eat as much as you can.

'I pray often for you; do you pray for me. I have nothing to add to my last letter.-I am, dear, dear mother, your dutiful son,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

TO MRS. JOHNSON IN LICHFIELD.
'Jan. 18, 1759.

"DEAR HONOURED MOTHER,-I fear you are too ill for long letters; therefore I will only tell you, you have from me all the regard that can possibly subsist in the heart. I pray God to bless you for evermore, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.

'Let Miss write to me every post, however short.-I am, dear mother, your dutiful son, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

TO MISS PORTER, AT MRS. JOHNSON'S, IN

LICHFIELD.

'Jan, 20, 1759. "DEAR MISS,-I will, if it be possible, come down to you. God grant that I may yet [find] my dear mother breathing and sensible. Do not tell her, lest I disappoint her. If I miss to write next post, I am on the road.-I am, my dearest Miss, your most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

1 Catherine Chambers, Mrs. Johnson's maid-servant. She died in October 1767. See Dr. Johnson's Prayers and Meditations, p. 71: Sunday, October 18, 1767. Yesterday, October 17, I took my leave for ever of my dear old friend Catherine Chambers, who came to live with my mother about 1724, and has been but little parted from us since. She buried my father, my brother, and my mother. She is now fifty-eight years old.'-MALONE.

[On the other side.]

'Jan. 20, 1759. 'DEAR HONOURED MOTHER,'-Neither your condition nor your character make it fit for me to say much. You have been the best mother, and I believe the best woman, in the world. I thank you for your indulgence to me, and beg forgiveness of all that I have done ill, and all that I have omitted to do well.2 God grant you his Holy Spirit, and receive you to everlasting happiness, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. Lord Jesus receive your spirit. Amen.—I am, dear, dear mother, your dutiful son,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

" TO MISS PORTER, IN LICHField.

'Jan. 23, 1759.3

'You will conceive my sorrow for the loss of my mother, of the best mother. If she were to live again, surely I should behave better to her. But she is happy, and what is past is nothin to her; and for me, since I cannot repair my faults to her, I hope repentance will efface them. I return you and all those that have been good to her my sincerest thanks, and pray God to repay you all with infinite advantage. Write to me, and comfort me, dear child. I shall be glad likewise, if Kitty will write to me. I shall send a bill of twenty pounds in a few days, which I thought to have brought to my mother; but God suffered it not. I have not power or composure to say much more. God bless you, and bless us all.—I am, dear Miss, your affectionate humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

Soon after this event he wrote his Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia [*]; concerning the publication of which Sir John Hawkins guesses vaguely and idly, instead of having taken the trouble to inform himself with authentic precision. Not to trouble my readers with a repetition of the Knight's reveries, I have to mention that the late Mr Strahan, the printer, told me that Johnson wrote it, that with the profits he might defray the expense of his mother's funeral, and pay some little debts which she had left. He told Sir Joshua Reynolds that he composed it in the evenings of

This letter was written on the second leaf of the preceding, addressed to Miss Porter.-MALONE.

one week,' sent it to the press in portions as it was written, and had never since read it over. Mr. Strahan, Mr. Johnston, and Mr. Dodsley purchased it for a hundred pounds, but afterwards paid him twenty-five pounds more when it came to a second edition.

Considering the large sums which have been received for compilations, and works requiring not much more genius than compilations, we cannot but wonder at the very low price which he was content to receive for this admirable

performance; which, though he had written nothing else, would have rendered his name immortal in the world of literature. None of his writings have been so extensively diffused over Europe; for it has been translated into most, if not all, of the modern languages. This tale, with all the charms of oriental imagery, and all the force and beauty of which the English language is capable, leads us through the most important scenes of human life, and shows us that this stage of our being is full of vanity and vexation of spirit.' To those who look no further than the present life, or who maintain that human nature has not fallen from the state in which it was created, the instruction of this sublime story will be of no avail. But they who think justly, and feel with strong sensibility, will listen with eagerness and admiration to its truth and wisdom. Voltaire's Candide, written to refute the system of Optimism, which it has accomplished with brilliant success, is wonderfully similar in its plan and conduct to Johnson's Rasselas; insomuch that I have heard Johnson say, that if they had not been published so closely one after the other that there was not time for imitation, it would have been in vain to deny that the scheme of that which came latest was taken from the other. Though the proposition illustrated by both these works was the same,-namely, that in our present state there is more evil than good,—the intention of the writers was very different. Voltaire, I am afraid, meant only by wanton profaneness to obtain a sportive victory over religion, and to discredit the belief of a superintending Providence. Johnson meant, by showing the unsatisfactory nature of things temporal, to direct the hopes of man to things eternal. Rasselas, as was observed to me by a very accomplished lady, may be considered as a more enlarged and more deeply philosophical discourse in prose, upon the interesting truth, which in his Vanity of Human Wishes he had so successfully enforced in verse.

The fund of thinking which this work contains is such, that almost every sentence of it

1 Rasselas was published in March or April 1759.

2 See under June 2, 1781. Finding it then accidentally in a chaise with Mr. Boswell, he read it eagerly. This was doubtless long after his declaration to Sir Joshua Reynolds.-MALONE.