In the margin of this letter there is a memorandum in these words: "March 16, 1756, Sent six guineas. Witness, Wm. Richardson." For the honour of an admired writer it is to be regretted, that we do not find a more liberal entry. To his friend in distress he sent eight shillings more than was wanted. Had an incident of this kind occurred in one of his Romances, Richardson would have known how to grace his hero; but in fictitious scenes, generosity costs the writer nothing.

The proposal for a new edition of Shakspeare, which had formerly iscarried, was resumed in the year 1756. The booksellers readily agreed to his terms; and seription-tickets were issucd out. For undertaking this work, money, he confessed was the inciting motive. His friends exerted themselves to promote his interest; and, in the mean time, he engaged in a new periodical production called "The Idler." The first number appeared on Saturday, April 15, 1758; and the last, April 5, 1760. The profits of this work, and the subscriptions for the new edition of Shakspeare, were the means by which he supported himself for four or five years. In 1759 was published "Rasselas, Prince of Abys sinia." His translation of Lobo's voyage to Abyssinia seems to have pointed out that country for the scene of action; and Rassila Christos, the General of Sultan Segued, mentioned in that work, most probably suggested the name of the prince. The author wanted to set out on a journey to Litchfield, in order to pay the last offices of filial piety to his mother, who, at the age of ninety, was then near her dissolution; but money was necessary. Mr. Johnston, a booksel ler, who has long since left off business, gave one hundred pounds for the copy. With this supply Johnson set out for Litchfield; but did not arrive in time to close the eyes of a parent whom he loved. He attended the funeral, which, as appears among his memorandums, was on the 23d of January, 1759.

Johnson now found it necessary to retrench his expenses. He gave up his house in Gough square. Mrs. Williams went into lodgings. He retired to Gray's-Inn, and soon removed to chambers in the Inner-Temple-lane, where he lived in poverty, total idleness, and the pride of About this time Johnson contributed several literature. Magni stat nominis umbra. Mr. papers to a periodical Miscellany, called "The Fitzherbert (the father of Lord St. Helens, the VISITOR," from motives which are highly ho- present minister at Madrid,) a man distinnourable to him, a compassionate regard for the guished through life for his benevolence and late Mr. Christopher Smart. The Criticism on other amiable qualities, used to say, that he paid Pope's Epitaphs appeared in that work. In a a morning visit to Johnson, intending from his short time after he became a reviewer in the chambers to send a letter into the City; but, to Literary Magazine, under the auspices of the his great surprise, he found an author by prolate Mr. Newberry, a man of a projecting head, fession without pen, ink, or paper. The late good taste, and great industry. This employ- Dr. Douglas, bishop of Salisbury, was also ment engrossed but little of Johnson's time among those who endeavoured, by constant atHe resigned himself to indolence, took no exer- tention, to soothe the cares of a mind which he cise, rose about two, and then received the visits knew to be afflicted with gloomy apprehensions. of his friends. Authors long since forgotten, At one of the parties made at his house, Boscowaited on him as their oracle, and he gave re-vich, the Jesuit, who had then lately introduced sponses in the chair of criticism. He listened the Newtonian philosophy at Rome, and, after to the complaints, the schemes, and the hopes publishing an elegant Latin poem on the suband fears, of a crowd of inferior writers, "who."ject, was made a Fellow of the Royal Society, he said, in the words of Roger Ascham, "lived, was one of the company invited to meet Dr. men knew not how, and died obscure, men marked Johnson. The conversation at first was mostly not when." He believed that he could give a in French. Johnson, though thoroughly versed better history of Grub-street than any man liv-in that language, and a professed admiter of ing. His house was filled with a succession of visitors till four or five in the evening. During the whole time he presided at his tea-table. Tea was his favourite beverage; and, when the late Jonas Hanway pronounced his anathema against the use of tea, Johnson rose in defence of his habitual practice, declaring himself" in that article a hardened sinner, who had for years diluted his meals with the infusion of that fascinating plant; whose tea-kettle had no time to cool who with tea solaced the midnight hour, and with tea welcomed the morning."

Boileau and La Bruyere, did not understand its pronunciation, nor could he speak it himself with propriety. For the rest of the evening the talk was in Latin. Boscovich had a ready current flow of that flimsy phraseology with which a priest may travel through Italy, Spain, and Germany. Johnson scorned what he called colloquial barbarisms. It was his pride to speak his best. He went on, after a little practice, with as much facility as if it was his native tongue. One sentence his writer well remembers. Observing that Fontenelle at first op

Dr. Johnson's fame excited the curiosity of the King. His Majesty expressed a desire to see a man of whom extraordinary things were said. Accordingly, the librarian at Buckingham-house invited Johnson to see that elegant collection of books, at the same time giving a hint of what was intended. His Majesty entered the room; and, among other things, asked the author, “If he meant to give the world any more of his compositions?" Johnson answered, "That he thought he had written enough." "And I should think so too," replied his Majesty, "if you had not written so well."

gained in the year 1765 another resource, which | Foote, "That the theatre being intended for the contributed more than any thing else to exempt reformation of vice, he would step from the him from the solicitudes of life. He was intro-boxes on the stage, and correct him before the duced to the late Mr. Thrale and his family. audience." Foote knew the intrepidity of his Mrs. Piozzi has related the fact, and it is there- antagonist, and abandoned the design. No illfore needless to repeat it in this place. The will ensued. Johnson used to say, "That, for author of this narrative looks back to the share broad-faced mirth, Foote had not his equal." he had in that business with self-congratulation, since he knows the tenderness which from that time soothed Johnson's cares at Streatham, and prolonged a valuable life. The subscribers to Shakspeare began to despair of ever seeing the promised edition. To acquit himself of this obligation, he went to work unwillingly, but proceeded with vigour. In the month of October, 1765, Shakspeare was published; and, in a short time after, the University of Dublin sent over a diploma, in honourable terms, creating him a Doctor of Laws. Oxford, in eight or ten years afterwards, followed the example; and till then Johnson never assumed the title of Doctor. In 1766 his constitution seemed to be in a 'apid decline; and that morbid melancholy which often clouded his understanding, came upon him with a deeper gloom than ever. Mr. and Mrs. Thrale paid him a visit in this situation, and found him on his knees, with Dr. Delap, the Rector of Lewes, in Sussex, beseeching God to continue to him the use of his understanding. Mr. Thrale took him to his house at Streatham; and Johnson from that time became a constant resident in the family. He went occasionally to the club in Gerard-street; but his head-quarters were fixed at Streatham. An apartment was fitted up for him, and the library was greatly enlarged. Parties were constantly invited from town; and Johnson was every day at an elegant table, with select and polished company. Whatever could be devised by Mr. and Mrs. Thrale to promote the happiness, and establish the health of their guest, was studiously performed from that time to the end of Mr. Thrale's life. Johnson accompanied the family in all their summer excursions to Brighthelmstone, to Wales, and to Paris. It is but justice to Mr. Thrale to say, that a more ingenuous frame of mind no man possessed. His education at Oxford gave him the habits of a gentleman; his amiable temper recommended his conversation; and the goodness of his heart made him a sincere friend. That he was the patron of Johnson is an honour to his memory.

In petty disputes with contemporary writers, or the wits of the age, Johnson was seldom entangled. A single incident of that kind may not be unworthy of notice, since it happened with a man of great celebrity in his time. A number of friends dined with Garrick on a Christmasday. Foote was then in Ireland. It was said at table, that the modern Aristophanes (so Foote was called) had been horse-whipped by a Dublin apothecary, for mimicking him on the stage. "I wonder," said Garrick, "that any man should show so much resentment to Foote; he has a patent for such liberties; nobody ever thought it worth his while to quarrel with him in London." "I am glad," said Johnson, "to find that the man is rising in the world." The expression was afterwards reported to Foote; who, in return, gave out, that he would produce the Caliban of Literature on the stage. Being informed of this design, Johnson sent word to

This

Though Johnson thought he had written enough, his genius, even in spite of bodily slug. gishness, could not lie still. In 1770 we find him entering the lists as a political writer. The flame of discord that blazed throughout the nation on the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, and the final determination of the House of Commons, that Mr. Luttrell was duly elected, by 206 votes against 1143, spread a general spirit of discontent. To allay the tumult, Dr. Johnson published The False Alarm. Mrs. Piozzi informs us, “That this pamphlet was written at her house, between eight o'clock on Wednesday night and twelve on Thursday night." celerity has appeared wonderful to many, and some have doubted the truth. It may, how ever, be placed within the bounds of probability. Johnson has observed that there are different methods of composition. Virgil was used to pour out a great number of verses in the morning, and pass the day in retrenching the exuberances, and correcting inaccuracies; and it was Pope's custom to write his first thoughts in his first words, and gradually to amplify, decorate, rectify, and refine them. Others employ at once memory and invention, and with little intermediate use of the pen, form and polish large masses by continued meditation, and write their productions only, when, in their opinion, they have completed them. This last was Johnson's method. He never took his pen in hand till he had well weighed his subject, and grasped in his mind the sentiments, the train of argument, and the arrangement of the whole. As he often thought aloud, he had, perhaps, talked it over to himself. This may account for that rapidity with which, in general, he despatched his sheets to the press, without being at the trouble of a fair copy. Whatever may be the logic or eloquence of the False Alarm, the House of Commons have since erased the resolution from the Journals. But whether they have not left materials for a future controversy, may be made a question.

In 1771, he published another tract, on the subject of Falkland islands. The design was to show the impropriety of going to war with Spain for an island thrown aside from human use, stormy in winter, and barren in summer. For this work it is apparent that materials were furnished by direction of the minister.

At the approach of the general election in

1774, he wrote a short discourse, called The Patriot; not with any visible application to Mr. Wilkes; but to teach the people to reject the leaders of opposition, who called themselves patriots. In 1775 he undertook a pamphlet of more importance, namely, Taxation no Tyranny, in answer to the Resolutions and Address of the American Congress. The scope of the argument was, that distant colonies, which had in their assemblies a legislature of their own, were, notwithstanding, liable to be taxed in a British Parliament, where they had neither peers in one house, nor representatives in the other. He was of opinion, that this country was strong enough to enforce obedience. "When an Englishman," he says, "is told that the Americans shoot up like the hydra, he naturally considers how the hydra was destroyed." The event has shown how much he and the minister of that day were mistaken.

him from the natives of Scotland. Being a cordial well-wisher to the constitution in Church and State, he did not think that Calvin and John Knox were proper founders of a national religion. He made, however, a wide distinction hetween the Dissenters of Scotland and the Separatists of England. To the former he imputed no disaffection, no want of loyalty. Their soldiers and their officers had shed their blood with zeal and courage in the service of Great Britain; and the people, he used to say, were content with their own established modes of worship, without wishing, in the present age, to give any disturbance to the Church of England. This he was at all times ready to admit; and therefore declared, that whenever he found a Scotchman to whom an Englishman was as a Scotchman, that Scotchman should be as an Englishman to him. In this, surely, there was no rancour, no malevolence. The Dissenters on this side the Tweed appeared to him in a dif ferent light. Their religion, he frequently said,, was too worldly, too political, too restless and ambitious. The doctrine of cashiering kings, and erecting on the ruins of the constitution a new form of government, which lately issued from their pulpits, he always thought was, under a calm disguise, the principle that lay lurking in their hearts. He knew that a wild democracy had overturned Kings, Lords, and Commons; and that a set of Republican Fanatics, who would not bow at the name of Jesus, had taken possession of all the livings and all the parishes in the kingdom. That those scenes of horror might never be renewed, was the ardent wish of Dr. Johnson; and though he apprehended no danger from Scotland, it is probable that his dislike of Calvinism mingled sometimes with his reflections on the natives of that country. The association of ideas could not be easily broken; but it is well known that he loved and respected many gentlemen from that part of the island. Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland, and Dr. Beattie's Essays, were subjects of his constant praise. Mr. Boswell, Dr. Rose of Chiswick, Andrew Millar, Mr. Hamilton, the printer, and the late Mr. Strahan, were among his most intimate friends. Many others might be added to the list. He scorned to enter Scotland as a spy; though Hawkins, his biographer, and the professing defender of his fame, allowed himself leave to represent him in that ignoble character. He went into Scotland, to survey men and manners. Antiquities, fossils, and minerals, were not within his province. He did not visit that country to settle the station of Roman camps, or the spot where Galgacus fought the last battle for public liberty. The people, their customs, and the progress of literature were his objects. The civilities which he received in the course of his tour have been repaid with grateful acknowledgment, and generally, with great elegance of expression. His crime is, that he found the country bare of trees, and he has stated the fact. This, Mr. Boswell, in his Tour to the Hebrides, has told us, was resented by his countrymen with anger inflamed to rancour; but he admits that there are few trees on the east side of Scotland. Mr. Pennant, in his Tour, says, that in some parts of the eastern *Mr. Boswell's account of this introduction is very different from the above. See bis Life of Johnson, vol. I. side of the country, he saw several large plantap. 360, 8vo. Edit. 1804

The Account of the Tour to the Western Islands of Scotland, which was undertaken in the autumn of 1773, in company with Mr. Boswell, was not published till some time in the year 1775. This book has been variously received; by some extolled for the elegance of the narrative, and the depth of observation on life and manners; by others, as much condemned, as a work of avowed hostility to the Scotch nation. The praise was, beyond all question, fairly deserved; and the censure, on due examination, will appear hasty and ill-founded. That Johnson entertained some prejudices against the Scotch, must not be dissembled. It is true, as Mr. Boswell says, "that he thought their success in England exceeded their proportion of real merit, and he could not but see in them that nationality which no liberal-minded Scotsman will deny." The author of these memoirs well remembers, that Johnson one day asked him, "Have you observed the difference between your own country impudence and Scotch impudence?" The answer being in the negative: Then I will tell you," said Johnson. The impudence of an Irishman is the impudence of a fly, that buzzes about you, and you put it away, but it returns again, and flutters and teazes you. The impudence of a Scotsman is the impudence of a leech, that fixes, and sucks your blood." Upon another occasion, this writer went with hun into the shop of Davis the bookseller, in Russel-street, Covent-garden. Davis came running to him almost out of breath with joy: "The Scots gentleman is come, Sir; his principal wish is to see you; he is now in the back-parlour." "Well, well, I'll see the gentleman," said Johnson. He walked towards the room. Mr. Boswell was the person. This writer followed with no small curiosity. "I find," said Mr. Boswell, "that I am come to London at a bad time, when great popular prejudice has gone forth against us North Britons; but when I am talking to you, I am talking to a large and liberal mind, and you know that I cannot help coming from Scotland." "Sir," said Johnson, "no more can the rest of your countrymen.".

He had other reasons that helped to alienate

tions of pine planted by gentlemen near their

seats; and in this respect such a laudable spirit | ker, what can a man do?" We come now to the prevails, that, in another half century it never shall be said, "To spy the nakedness of the land are you come." "Johnson could not wait for that half century, and therefore mentioned things as he found them. If in any thing he has been mistaken, he has made a fair apology in the last paragraph of his book, avowing with candour, "That he may have been surprised by modes of life, and appearances of nature, that are familiar to men of wider survey, and more varied conversation. Novelty and ignorance must always be reciprocal; and he is conscious that his thoughts on national manners are the thoughts of one who has seen but little."

last of his literary labours. At the request of the Booksellers he undertook the Lives of the Poets. The first publication was in 1779, and the whole was completed in 1781. In a memorandum of that year he says, some time in March he finished the Lives of the Poets, which he wrote in his usual way, dilatorily and hastily, unwilling to work, yet working with vigour and haste. In another place, he hopes they are written in such a manner as may tend to the promotion of piety. That the history of so many men, who, in their different degrees, made themselves conspicuous in their time, was not written recently after their deaths, seems to be an omission that does no honour to the Republic of Letters. Their contemporaries in general looked on with calm indifference, and suffered Wit and Genius to vanish out of the world in total silence, unregarded, and unlamented. Was there no friend to pay the tribute of a tear? No just observer of life, to record the virtues of the

have been agreed, that if an author's works survived, the history of the man was to give no moral lesson to after ages. If tradition told us that Ben Johnson went to the Devil Tavern; that Shakspeare stole deer, and held the stirrup at playhouse doors; that Dryden frequented Button's Coffee-house; curiosity was lulled asleep, and biography forgot the best part of her function, which is to instruct mankind by examples taken from the school of life. This task remained for Dr. Johnson, when years had rolled away; when the channels of information were, for the most part, choked up, and little remained besides doubtful anecdote, uncertain tradition, and vague report.

The Poems of Ossian made a part of Johnson's inquiry during his residence in Scotland and the Hebrides. On his return to England, November, 1773, a storm seemed to be gathering over his head; but the cloud never burst, and the thunder never fell.-Ossian, it is well known, was presented to the public as a translation from the Earse; but that this was a fraud, John-deceased? Was even Envy silent? It seemed to son declared without hesitation. "The Earse," he says, 66 was always oral only, and never a written language. The Welsh and the Irish were more cultivated. In Earse there was not in the world a single manuscript a hundred years old. Martin, who in the last century published an Account of the Western Islands, mentions Irish, but never Earse manuscripts, to be found in the islands in his time. The bards could not read; if they could, they might probably have written. But the bard was a barbarian among barbarians, and, knowing nothing himself, lived with others that knew no more. If there is a manuscript from which the translation was made, in what age was it written, and where is it? If it was collected from oral recitation, it could only be in detached parts and scattered fragments; the whole is too long to be remembered. Who put it together in its present form?" For these and such like reasons, John-derstood in other ages, and in other countries. son calls the whole an imposture. He adds, "The editor, or author, never could show the original, nor can it be shown by any other. To revenge reasonable incredulity, by refusing evidence, is a degree of insolence with which the world is not yet acquainted; and stubborn audacity is the last refuge of guilt." This reasoning carries with it great weight. It roused the resentment of Mr. Macpherson. He sent a threatening letter to the author; and Johnson answered him in the rough phrase of stern defiance. The two heroes frowned at a distance, but never came to action.

"Nunc situs informis premit et deserta Vetustas.

The value of Biography has been better un Tacitus informs us, that to record the lives and characters of illustrious men was the practice of the Roman authors, in the early periods of the Republic. In France the example has been fol lowed. Fontenelle, D'Alembert, and Monsieur Thomas have left models in this kind of composition. They have embalmed the dead. But it is true, that they had incitements and advan tages, even at a distant day, which could not, by any diligence, be obtained by Dr. Johnson. The wits of France had ample materials. They lived in a nation of critics, who had at heart the honour done to their country by their Poets, In the year 1777, the misfortunes of Dr. Dodd their Heroes, and their Philosophers. They excited his compassion. He wrote a speech for had, besides, an Academy of Belles-Lettres, where that unhappy man, when called up to receive Genius was cultivated, refined, and encouraged. judgment of death; besides two petitions, one They had the tracts, the essays, and dissertato the King, and another to the Queen: and a tions, which remain in the memoirs of the Aca sermon to be preached by Dodd to the convicts demy, and they had the speeches of the several in Newgate. It may appear trifling to add, that members, delivered at their first admission to a about the same time he wrote a prologue to the seat in that learned Assembly. In those speechcomedy of "A Word to the Wise," written by es the new Academician did ample justice to Hugh Kelly. The play, some years before, had the memory of his predecessor; and though his been damned by a party on the first night. It harangue was decorated with the colours of elowas revived for the benefit of the author's wi- quence, and was, for that reason, called panedow. Mrs. Piozzi relates, that when Johnson gyric, yet being pronounced before qualified was rallied for these exertions, so close to one, judges, who knew the talents, the conduct ana another, his answer was, "When they come to morals of the deceased, the speaker could not, me with a dying Parson, and a dead Stay-ma-] with propriety, wander into the regions of fic