in imitation of the third satire of Juvenal." This poem was published without the name of the author, but Pope, who was desirous of knowing whose it was, said to Dodsley, the publisher, "Whoever he is, he will not be long concealed.”

We pass over the intermediate space of Johnson's life, to notice the publication of the Prospectus of his Dictionary, which appeared in 1747, addressed to Lord Chesterfield.

The price stipulated for his Dictionary, was 15757, which he was to receive as the copy was delivered. The work itself, came out in 1755, the author having previously been complimented by his University with the degree of Master of Arts. completing the copy, and sending it to Andrew Millar, the bookseller, the latter returned this curious acknowledgment :

On

"Andrew Millar sends his compliments to Mr. Samuel Johnson, with the money for the last sheet of copy of the Dictionary, and thanks God he has done with him."

Johnson immediately sent back this answer :

"Samuel Johnson returns his compliments to Mr. Andrew Millar, and is very glad to find, as he does by his note, that Andrew Millar has the grace to thank God for any thing.”

While he was compiling this great work, Johnson wrote his Rambler, which came out in weekly numbers. What opinion he had of his undertaking, and in what spirit he engaged in it, appears

from

from the prayer that he wrote at the commencement of it.

"Almighty God, the giver of all good things, without whose help, all labour is ineffectual, and without whose grace, all wisdom is folly, grant I beseech thee, that in this undertaking, thy holy Spirit may not be with-held from me, but that I may promote thy glory, and the salvation of myself and others; grant this O Lord, for the sake of thy son Jesus Christ, Amen."

This gives a picture of the mind of Johnson in his most secret and retired moments, that must shame the infidel, and confound all those who have basely endeavoured to depreciate his character. He has been called a proud pedant, and an ostentatious moralist. But here we see him humbly prostrate before his God, acknowledging the inefficiency of all labour without his help, and the folly of all wisdom unsanctified by his grace. The most abandoned surely can hardly read this without an awful reverence, and the most malignant will never have the audacity to call that an act of ostentation, which passed without the notice of human witness.

Though Johnson addressed the plan of his Dictionary to Lord Chesterfield, his lordship paid no attention to him during the progress of his labour, which was completed silently, and amidst heavy difficulties. But just as the Dictionary was on the eve of publication, Chesterfield began to recollect himself, and though he had neglected the author

2 N

author, he wished to share in his fame. It was his desire that a work of such importance should be dedicated to him, and therefore to attain this object of his ambition, he wrote two recommendatory papers for it in the World. But Johnson was not to be wheedled. The panegyrick and the author were the objects of his just contempt, and instead of a dedication, he wrote to his lordship this admirable letter:

"MY LORD,

"I HAVE been lately informed, by the proprietor of the World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the publick, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished, is an honour, which, being very little accustomed to favour from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge.

"When upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your address; and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself le vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre; that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending;-but I found my attendance so little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your lordship in publick, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little.

"Seven years, my lord, have now past, since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour.

Such

Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before.

"The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him a native of the rocks.

"Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, encumbering him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind: but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling that the publick should consider me as owing that to a patron, which Providence has enabled me to do for myself.

"Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself, with so much exultation,

"My Lord,

"Your Lordship's most humble

" and most obedient servant,

"SAM. JOHNSON."

As another proof of his uncommon memory, Johnson repeated this letter many years after at several times to different friends, who compared their respective copies, and found them to agree to a word, though, when he sent the original, he did not take any copy.

Here the reader will excuse our inserting an anecdote connected with this famous letter, though

the circumstance happened some years after Chesterfield's death.

Dr. Johnson being invited to spend some days at Bowood, the seat of the late Marquis of Lansdowne, enjoyed himself there highly to his satisfaction, and the entertainment of the noble marquis and the company who were on a visit there at the same time.

He told several stories of literary characters of his acquaintance, and particularly repeated his letter to Lord Chesterfield. Whilst the feast of reason and the flow of soul' was thus enjoying, a gentleman from London happened to ar rive; but being too late for dinner, his lordship was making his apologies, and added, "but you have lost a better thing than dinner, in not being here time enough to hear Dr. Johnson repeat his charming letter to Lord Chesterfield, though I dare say the doctor will be kind enough to give it to us again."—" Indeed, my lord," says Johnson, "but I will not. I told the story at first for my own amusement, but I will not be dragged in as a story-teller to a company."

In the course of the night, which the doctor enjoyed to a very late hour, he differed very much upon some subject with one of the gentlemen at table, and used some strong expressions, which the latter took no notice of, from the particularity of the doctor's manner.

In the morning, however, when Johnson cooled upon it, he went up to the gentleman with

great