tains of Johnson's conversation, which is universally acknowledged to have been eminently instructive and entertaining; and of which the specimens that I have given upon a former occasion have been received with so much approbation, that I have good grounds for supposing that the world will not be indifferent to more ample communications of a similar nature. enlarge upon the excellent plan of Mr. MaBon, in his Memoirs of Gray. Wherever narrative is necessary to explain, connect and supply, I furnish it to the best of my abilities; but in the chronological series of Johnson's life, which I trace as distinctly as I can, year by year, I produce, wherever it is in my power, his own minutes, letters, or conversation, being convinced that this mode is more lively, and will make my readers better acquainted with him than even most of those were who actually knew him, but could know him only partially; whereas there is here an accumulation of intelligence from various points, by which his character is more fully understood and il-moirs of Mr. William Whitehead, in lustrated. Indeed I cannot conceive a more perfect mode of writing any man's life, than not only relating all the most important events of it in their order, but interweaving what he privately wrote, and said, and thought; by which mankind are enabled as it were to see him live, and to “live o’er each scene" with him, as he actually advanced through the several stages of his life. Had his other friends been as diligent and ardent as I was, he might have been almost entirely preserved. As it is, I will venture to say that he will be seen in this work more completely than any man who has ever yet lived. And he will be seen as he really was; for I profess to write not his panegyrick, which must be all praise, but his life, which, great | and good as he was, must not be supposed to be entirely perfect. To be as he was, is indeed subject of panegyrick enough to any man in this state of being; but in every picture there should be shade as well as light, and when I delineate him without reserve, I do what he himself recommended, both by his precept and his example. That the conversation of a celebrated man, if his talents have been exerted in conversation, will best display his character, is, I trust, too well established in the judgment of mankind to be at all shaken by a sneering observation of Mr. Mason, in his mewhich there is literally no life, but a mere dry narrative of facts. I do not think it was quite necessary to attempt a depreciation of what is universally esteemed, because it was not to be found in the immediate object of the ingenious writer's pen; for in truth, from a man so still and so tame, as to be contented to pass many years as the domestick companion of a superannuated lord and lady, conversation could no more be expected than from a Chinese mandarin on a chimneypiece, or the fantastick figures on a gilt leather skreen. ενέστε If authority be required, let us appeal to Plutarch, the prince of ancient biographers. ούτε ταις επιφανεσταταις πράξεσι παντως nors agerns & rankas, αλλα πραγμα βραχυ πολλακις, και ρήμα, και παίδια τις εμφασιν ήθους εποίησεν μάλλον η μαχαι μυριονεκροί, παρατάξεις απ μέγισται, και πολιορκια πολεων. "Nor is it always in the most distinguished achievements that men's virtues or vices may be best discerned; but very often an action of small note, a short saying, or a jest, shall distinguish a person's real character more than the greatest sieges or the most important battles 2." -If the biographer writes from personal knowledge, and makes haste to gratify the To this may be added the sentiments of publick curiosity, there is danger lest his in- the very man whose life I am about to exhiterest, his fear, his gratitude, or his tender- bit. "The business of the biographer is ness, overpower his fidelity, and tempt him often to pass slightly over those performto conceal, if not to invent. There are ances and incidents which produce vulgar many who think it an act of piety to hide greatness, to lead the thoughts into domesthe faults or failings of their friends, even tick privacies, and display the minute details when they can no longer suffer by their de- of daily life, where exteriour appendages tection; we therefore see whole ranks of are cast aside, and men excel each other oncharacters adorned with uniform panegy-ly by prudence and by virtue. The account Tick, and not to be known from one another but by extrinsick and casual circumstances. 'Let me remember,' says Hale, when I find myself inclined to pity a criminal, that there is likewise a pity due to the country.' If we owe regard to the memory of the dead, there is yet more respect to be paid to knowledge, to virtue, and to truth 1." What I consider as the peculiar value of the following work, is the quantity it con ''Rambler, No. 60.-BosWELL. of Thuanus is with great propriety said by its authour to have been written, that it might lay open to posterity the private and familiar character of that man, cujus ingenium et candorem ex ipsius scriptis sunt olim semper miraturi, whose candour and genius will to the end of time be by his writings preserved in admiration. "There are many invisible circumstances • Plutarch's Life of Alexander-Langhorne's translation.-BOSWELL. dinary vigour and vivacity constituted one | gossiping; but besides its being swe with long unnecessary extracts from works (even one of several leaves fr borne's Harleian Catalogue, and th compiled by Johnson, but by Oldys ry small part of it relates to the pers is the subject of the book; and in that such an inaccuracy in the statement as in so solemn an authour is hardly sable, and certainly makes his narra ry unsatisfactory. But what is still there is throughout the whole of it uncharitable cast, by which the m favourable construction is put upon every circumstance in the charac conduct of my illustrious friend; trust, will, by a true and fair deli be vindicated both from the injuri representations of this authour, an the slighter aspersions of a lady wh lived in great intimacy with him. There is, in the British Museum ter from Bishop Warburton to Dr on the subject of biography; which, I am aware it may expose me to a of artfully raising the value of n work, by contrasting it with that of I have spoken, is so well conceived pressed, that I cannot refrain from serting it. Since my work was announced, several Lives and Memoirs of Dr. Johnson have been published, the most voluminous of which is one compiled for the booksellers of London, by Sir John Hawkins, Knt.1, a man, whom, during my long intimacy with Dr. Johnson, I never saw in his company, I think, but once, and I am sure not above twice. Johnson might have esteemed him for his decent, religious demeanour, and his knowledge of books and literary history; but from the rigid formality of his manners, it is evident that they never could have lived together with companionable ease and familiarity; nor had Sir John Hawkins that nice perception which was necessary to mark the finer and less obvious parts of Johnson's character. His being appointed one of his executors gave him an opportu- "I shall endeavour," says Dr. V nity of taking possession of such fragments ton, "to give you what satisfactio of a diary and other papers as were left; of in any thing you want to be satisfied which, before delivering them up to the re-subject of Milton, and am extreme siduary legatee, whose property they were, he endeavoured to extract the substance. In this he has not been very successful, as I have found upon a perusal of those papers, I which have been since transferred to me. Sir John Hawkins's ponderous labours, I must acknowledge, exhibit a farrago, of which a considerable portion is not devoid of entertainment to the lovers of literary The greatest part of this book was written while Sir John Hawkins was alive; and I avow, that one object of my strictures was to make him feel some compunction for his illiberal treatment of Dr. Johnson. Since his decease, I have suppressed several of my remarks upon his work. But though I would not "war with the dead" offensively, I think it necessary to be strenuous in defence of my illustrious friend, which I cannot be, without strong animadversions upon a writer who has greatly injured him. Let me add, that though I doubt I should not have been very prompt to gratify Sir John Hawkins with any compliment in his lifetime, I do now frankly acknowledge, that, in my opinion, his volume, however inadequate and improper as a life of Dr. Johnson, and however discredited by unpardonable inaccuracies in other respects, contains a collection of curious anecdotes and observations, which few men but its author could have brought together. BoswELL. "24th Nov. you intend to write his life. Almos life-writers we have had before Tol Desmaiseaux, are indeed strange creatures; and yet I had rather r worst of them, than be obliged through with this of Milton's, or the life of Boileau, where there is such heavy succession of long quotations interesting passages, that it make method quite nauseous. But the tasteless Frenchman, seems to lay as a principle, that every life must be and what's worse, it proves a book a life; for what do we know of Boil ter all his tedious stuff? You are 1 one (and I speak it without a comp that by the vigour of your style an ments, and the real importance of y terials, have the art (which one w the agreements to the most agreeal agine no one could have missed) of ject in the world, which is literary his Instead of melting down my n into one mass, and constantly spea my own person, by which I might 1 peared to have more merit in the e of the work, I have resolved to ad 2 British Museum, 4320, Ayscough Sloane MSS.-BOSWELL. #rge upon the excellent plan of Mr. Ma- | tains of Johnson's conversation, which is wan his Memoirs of Gray. Wherever universally acknowledged to have been emalve is necessary to explain, connect inently instructive and entertaining; and of an supply, I furnish it to the best of my which the specimens that I have given ups; but in the chronological series of on a former occasion have been received lesso's life, which I trace as distinctly with so much approbation, that I have ➜iran, year by year, I produce, wherever good grounds for supposing that the world any power, his own minutes, letters, will not be indifferent to more ample comcaversation, being convinced that this munications of a similar nature. txe is more lively, and will make my reabetter acquainted with him than even ➡t of those were who actually knew him, btc, d know him only partially; whereLere is here an accumulation of intellipere from various points, by which his aracter is more fully understood and il-moirs of Mr. William Whitehead, in watch That the conversation of a celebrated man, if his talents have been exerted in conversation, will best display his character, is, I trust, too well established in the judgment of mankind to be at all shaken by a sneering observation of Mr. Mason, in his me which there is literally no life, but a mere dry narrative of facts. I do not think it was quite necessary to attempt a depreciation of what is universally esteemed, because it was not to be found in the immediate object of the ingenious writer's pen; for in truth, from a man so still and so tame, as to be contented to pass many years as the domestick companion of a superannuated lord and lady, conversation could no more be expected than from a Chinese mandarin on a chimneypiece, or the fantastick figures on a gilt leather skreen. Indeed I cannot conceive a more perfect 4 writing any man's life, than not onating all the most important events of i uair order, but interweaving what he ratey wrote, and said, and thought; h mankind are enabled as it were te him live, and to "live o'er each scene" #t him, as he actually advanced through te ver si stages of his life. Had his other s been as diligent and ardent as I www, he might have been almost entirely erved. As it is, I will venture to say that he will be seen in this work more competer than any man who has ever yet lived. 4 at 2 will be seen as he really was; for. lantess to write not his panegyrick, which is ageтns n rankas, αλλα призма вдали Better and praise, but his life, which, great πολλακις, και ρήμα, και παιδία τις εμφασιν ήθους And as he was, must not be supposed εποίησεν μάλλον η μαχαι μυριονεκροί, παρατάξεις απ to be entirely perfect. To be as he was, is μεγισται, και πολιορκια πολεων. "Nor is it aland enbeet of panegyrick enough to any ways in the most distinguished achievethis state of being; but in every pic-ments that men's virtues or vices may be best Are there should be shade as well as light, discerned; but very often an action of small axt when I delineate him without reserve, note, a short saying, or a jest, shall distinle what he himself recommended, both guish a person's real character more than precept and his example. the greatest sieges or the most important battles 2." It the biographer writes from personal ge, and makes haste to gratify the par curiosity, there is danger lest his inst, a fear, his gratitude, or his tender, overpower his fidelity, and tempt him ceal, if not to invent. There are sary who think it an act of piety to hide aces or failings of their friends, even vs they can no longer suffer by their dearia; we therefore see whole ranks of aracters adorned with uniform panegy778, at Dt to be known from one another ay extrinsick and casual circumstances. Let me remember,' says Hale, when I inclined to pity a criminal, that kewise a pity due to the country.' we uwe regard to the memory of the here is yet more respect to be paid to krize, to virtue, and to truth 1." What I consider as the peculiar value of Swing work, is the quantity it con **Rambler, No. 60.-BOSWELL. If authority be required, let us appeal to Plutarch, the prince of ancient biographers. Ούτε ταις επιφανεστάταις πράξεσι παντως ενεστι To this may be added the sentiments of the very man whose life I am about to exhibit. "The business of the biographer is often to pass slightly over those performances and incidents which produce vulgar greatness, to lead the thoughts into domestick privacies, and display the minute details of daily life, where exteriour appendages are cast aside, and men excel each other only by prudence and by virtue. The account of Thuanus is with great propriety said by its authour to have been written, that it might lay open to posterity the private and familiar character of that man, cujus ingenium et candorem ex ipsius scriptis sunt olim semper miraturi, whose candour and genius will to the end of time be by his writings preserved in admiration. "There are many invisible circumstances Plutarch's Life of Alexander-Langhorne's translation.-BOSWELL. which, whether we read as inquirers after | sation, and how happily it is adap the petty exercise of ridicule, by superficial understanding, and lu fancy; but I remain firm and confi my opinion, that minute particul frequently characteristic, and alway sing, when they relate to a distin man. I am therefore exceedingly un that any thing, however slight, wh illustrious friend thought it worth h to express, with any degree of point perish. For this almost superstitio natural or moral knowledge, whether we intend to enlarge our science or increase our virtue, are more important than publick occurrences. Thus Sallust, the great master of nature, has not forgotten, in his account of Catiline, to remark, that his walk was now quick, and again slow, as an indication of a mind revolving with violent commotion. Thus the story of Melancthon affords a striking lecture on the value of time, by informing us, that when he had made an appointment, he expected not on-erence, I have found very old and ve ly the hour, but the minute to be fixed, that the day might not run out in the idleness of suspense; and all the plans and enterprises of De Wit are now of less importance to the world than that part of his personal character, which represents him as careful of his health, and negligent of his life. authority, quoted by our great mod late, Secker, in whose tenth sermo is the following passage: "Rabbi David Kimchi, a noted commentator, who lived about five years ago, explains that passage in psalm, His leaf also shall not withe Rabbins yet older than himself, thu even the idle talk, so he expresses good man ought to be regarded; t superfluous things he saith are al some value. And other ancient a have the same phrase, nearly in t sense." "But biography has often been allotted to writers, who seem very little acquainted with the nature of their task, or very negligent about the performance. They rarely afford any other account than might be collected from publick papers, but imagine themselves writing a life, when they exhib- Of one thing I am certain, that c it a chronological series of actions or pre-ing how highly the small portion w ferments; and have so little regard to the have of the table-talk and other ar manners or behaviour of their heroes, that of our celebrated writers is valued, a more knowledge may be gained of a man's earnestly it is regretted that we h real character, by a short conversation with more, I am justified in preserving ra one of his servants, than from a formal and many of Johnson's sayings, than t studied narrative, begun with his pedigree, especially as from the diversity of and ended with his funeral. tions it cannot be known with c beforehand, whether what may seen to some, and perhaps to the collect self, may not be most agreeable to and the greater number that an auth please in any degree, the more does there arise to a benevolent mi "There are, indeed, some natural reasons why these narratives are often written by such as were not likely to give much instruction or delight, and why most accounts of particular persons are barren and useless. If a life be delayed till interest and envy are at an end, we may hope for To those who are weak enough impartiality, but must expect little intelli- this a degrading task, and the time gence; for the incidents which give excel-bour which have been devoted to it lence to biography are of a volatile and ev-ployed, I shall content myself with o anescent kind, such as soon escape the me- the authority of the greatest man mory, and are rarely transmitted by tradi- age, Julius Cæsar, of whom Ba tion. We know how few can pourtray a serves, that "in his book of apopl living acquaintance, except by his most which he collected, we see that he prominent and observable particularities, ed it more honour to make himse and the grosser features of his mind; and pair of tables, to take the wise an it may be easily imagined how much of this words of others, than to have eve little knowledge may be lost in imparting of his own to be made an apophth it, and how soon a succession of copies will an oracle 2." lose all resemblance of the original 1." I am fully aware of the objections which may be made to the minuteness on some occasions of my detail of Johnson's conver 1 Rambler, No. 60.-BosWELL. Having said thus much by way duction, I commit the following the candour of the publick. 2 Bacon's "Advancement of Learning I.-BOSWELL. THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. SAMTEL JOHNSON was born at Lichfield, | Lichfield, and to ride the circuit of Account Account of Life, P. 3. in Staffordshire, on the 18th of September, N. S. 1709, [as he himself states, adding, "that his mother had a very difficult and dangerous labour, and was assisted by George Hector, a man-midwife of great reputation. He was born almost dead, and could not ery for some time."] His initiation into the Christian church was not delayed; for his baptism is recorded, in the register of St. Mary's parish in that city, to have been performed on the day of his birth: his father is there styled Gentleman, a circumstance of which an ignorant panegyrist has praised him for not being proud; when the truth is, that the appellation of Gentleman, though now lost in the indiscriminate assumption of Esquire, was commonly taken by those who could not boast of gentility 2. His father was Michael Johnson, a native of Derbyshire, of obscure extraction, who settled in Lichfield as a bookseller and stationer 3. [He-being that year sheriff of p. 2. the county the day after his son's of Life, birth, which was a ceremony then performed with great pomp, was asked the bishop, dean, &c. aided by the neighbouring gentry: Michael Johnson's name stands the twelfth in the list; and his contribution, though only 108., was not comparatively contemptible; for no one, except the bishop and dean, gave so much as 107. Baronets and knights gave a guinea or two, and the great body of the contributors gave less than 1694, we find him burying in the cathedral, and Johnson. (Harwood's Lichfield, p. 69.) In placing a marble stone over a young woman in whose fate he was interested. His house, a handsome one, and in one of the best situations in the town, was his own freehold; and he appears to have added to it, for we find in the books of the corporation the following entry: "1708, July 13. Agreed, that Mr. Michael Johnson, bookseller, have a lease of his encroachment of his house in Sadler's-street, for forty years, at 2s. 6d. per an.” And this lease, at the expiration of the forty years, was renewed to the Doctor, as a mark of the respect of his fellow-citizens. In 1709, Michael Johnson served the office of sheriff of the county of the city of Lichfield. In 1718, he was elected junior bailiff; and in 1725, senior bailiff, or chief magistrate. Thus respected and apparently thriving in Lichfield, the following extract of a letter, written by the Rev. George Plaxton, chaplain to Lord Gower, will show the high estimation in which the father of our great moralist was held in the neighbouring country: "Trentham, St. Peter's day, 1716. Johnson, the Lichfield librarian, [There seems some difficulty in arriving at a is now here; he propagates learning all over this st-fartory opinion as to Michael Johnson's real diocese, and advanceth knowledge to its just condition and circumstances. That in the latter height; & the clergy here are his pupils, and suck years of his life he was poor, is certain; and Doc- all they have from him; Allen cannot make a or Johnson (in the "Account of his early Life,") warrant without his precedent, nor our quondam t only admits the general fact of poverty, but John Evans draw a recognizance sine directione gres several instances of what may be called in- Michaelis." (Gentleman's Magazine, Octodigence: yet, on the other hand, there is evidence ber, 1791.) On the whole, it seems probable that for near fifty years he occupied a respectable that the growing expenses of a family, and losses rank amongst his fellow-citizens, and appears in in trade, had in his latter years reduced Mr. Johnthe annals of Lichfield on occasions not bespeak-son, from the state of competency which he had poverty. In 1687, a subscription for recast- before enjoyed, to very narrow circumstances.ing the cathedral bells was set on foot, headed by ED.] [To have been born almost dead has been related of many eminent men, amongst others of Addison, Lord Lyttelton, and Voltaire.-ED.] *[The title Gentleman had still, in 1709, some degree of its original meaning, and as Mr. Johnson served the office of sheriff of Lichfield in that year, he seems to have been fully entitled to it The Doctor, at his entry on the books of Pembroke college, and at his matriculation, designated himself as filius generosi.—ED.] |