Complete Works of Samuel Johnson, page 689
1750: ÆTAT. 41. — In 1750 he came forth in the character for which he was eminently qualified, a majestick teacher of moral and religious wisdom. The vehicle which he chose was that of a periodical paper, which he knew had been, upon former occasions, employed with great success. The Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian, were the last of the kind published in England, which had stood the test of a long trial; and such an interval had now elapsed since their publication, as made him justly think that, to many of his readers, this form of instruction would, in some degree, have the advantage of novelty. A few days before the first of his Essays came out, there started another competitor for fame in the same form, under the title of The Tatler Revived, which I believe was ‘born but to die.’ Johnson was, I think, not very happy in the choice of his title, The Rambler, which certainly is not suited to a series of grave and moral discourses; which the Italians have literally, but ludicrously translated by Il Vagabondo; and which has been lately assumed as the denomination of a vehicle of licentious tales, The Rambler’s Magazine. He gave Sir Joshua Reynolds the following account of its getting this name: ‘What must be done, Sir, will be done. When I was to begin publishing that paper, I was at a loss how to name it. I sat down at night upon my bedside, and resolved that I would not go to sleep till I had fixed its title. The Rambler seemed the best that occurred, and I took it.’
With what devout and conscientious sentiments this paper was undertaken, is evidenced by the following prayer, which he composed and offered up on the occasion: ‘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.’
The first paper of the Rambler was published on Tuesday the 20th of March, 1750; and its authour was enabled to continue it, without interruption, every Tuesday and Friday, till Saturday the 17th of March, 1752, on which day it closed. This is a strong confirmation of the truth of a remark of his, which I have had occasion to quote elsewhere, that ‘a man may write at any time, if he will set himself doggedly to it;’ for, notwithstanding his constitutional indolence, his depression of spirits, and his labour in carrying on his Dictionary, he answered the stated calls of the press twice a week from the stores of his mind, during all that time; having received no assistance, except four billets in No. 10, by Miss Mulso, now Mrs. Chapone; No. 30, by Mrs. Catharine Talbot; No. 97, by Mr. Samuel Richardson, whom he describes in an introductory note as ‘An author who has enlarged the knowledge of human nature, and taught the passions to move at the command of virtue;’ and Nos. 44 and 100 by Mrs. Elizabeth Carter.
Posterity will be astonished when they are told, upon the authority of Johnson himself, that many of these discourses, which we should suppose had been laboured with all the slow attention of literary leisure, were written in haste as the moment pressed, without even being read over by him before they were printed. It can be accounted for only in this way; that by reading and meditation, and a very close inspection of life, he had accumulated a great fund of miscellaneous knowledge, which, by a peculiar promptitude of mind, was ever ready at his call, and which he had constantly accustomed himself to clothe in the most apt and energetick expression. Sir Joshua Reynolds once asked him by what means he had attained his extraordinary accuracy and flow of language. He told him, that he had early laid it down as a fixed rule to do his best on every occasion, and in every company; to impart whatever he knew in the most forcible language he could put it in; and that by constant practice, and never suffering any careless expressions to escape him, or attempting to deliver his thoughts without arranging them in the clearest manner, it became habitual to him.
Yet he was not altogether unprepared as a periodical writer; for I have in my possession a small duodecimo volume, in which he has written, in the form of Mr. Locke’s Common-Place Book, a variety of hints for essays on different subjects. He has marked upon the first blank leaf of it, ‘To the 128th page, collections for the Rambler;’ and in another place, ‘In fifty-two there were seventeen provided; in 97-21; in 190-25.’ At a subsequent period (probably after the work was finished) he added, ‘In all, taken of provided materials, 30.’
Sir John Hawkins, who is unlucky upon all occasions, tells us, that ‘this method of accumulating intelligence had been practised by Mr. Addison, and is humourously described in one of the Spectators, wherein he feigns to have dropped his paper of notanda, consisting of a diverting medley of broken sentences and loose hints, which he tells us he had collected, and meant to make use of. Much of the same kind is Johnson’s Adversaria’. But the truth is, that there is no resemblance at all between them. Addison’s note was a fiction, in which unconnected fragments of his lucubrations were purposely jumbled together, in as odd a manner as he could, in order to produce a laughable effect. Whereas Johnson’s abbreviations are all distinct, and applicable to each subject of which the head is mentioned.
For instance, there is the following specimen:
Youth’s Entry, &c.
‘Baxter’s account of things in which he had changed his mind as he grew up. Voluminous. — No wonder. — If every man was to tell, or mark, on how many subjects he has changed, it would make vols. but the changes not always observed by man’s self. — From pleasure to bus. [business] to quiet; from thoughtfulness to reflect. to piety; from dissipation to domestic. by impercept. gradat. but the change is certain. Dial non progredi, progress. esse conspicimus. Look back, consider what was thought at some dist. period.
‘Hope predom. in youth. Mind not willingly indulges unpleasing thoughts. The world lies all enameled before him, as a distant prospect sun-gilt; inequalities only found by coming to it. Love is to be all joy — children excellent — Fame to be constant — caresses of the great — applauses of the learned — smiles of Beauty.
‘Fear of disgrace — bashfulness — Finds things of less importance. Miscarriages forgot like excellencies; — if remembered, of no import. Danger of sinking into negligence of reputation. Lest the fear of disgrace destroy activity.
‘Confidence in himself. Long tract of life before him. — No thought of sickness. — Embarrassment of affairs. — Distraction of family. Publick calamities. — No sense of the prevalence of bad habits. — Negligent of time — ready to undertake — careless to pursue — all changed by time.
‘Confident of others — unsuspecting as unexperienced — imagining himself secure against neglect, never imagines they will venture to treat him ill. Ready to trust; expecting to be trusted. Convinced by time of the selfishness, the meanness, the cowardice, the treachery of men.
‘Youth ambitious, as thinking honours easy to be had.
‘Different kinds of praise pursued at different periods. Of the gay in youth, dang. hurt, &c. despised.
‘Of the fancy in manhood. Ambit. — stocks — bargains. — Of the wise and sober in old age — seriousness — formality — maxims, but general — only of the rich, otherwise age is happy — but at last every thing referred to riches — no having fame, honour, influence, without subjection to caprice.
‘Horace.
‘Hard it would be if men entered life with the same views with which they leave it, or left as they enter it. — No hope — no undertaking — no regard to benevolence — no fear of disgrace, &c.
‘Youth to be taught the piety of age — age to retain the honour of youth.’
This, it will be observed, is the sketch of Number 196 of the Rambler.
I shall gratify my readers with another specimen:
‘Confederacies difficult; why.
‘Seldom in war a match for single persons — nor in peace; therefore kings make themselves absolute. Confederacies in learning — every great work the work of one. Bruy. Scholar’s friendship like ladies. Scribebamus, &c. Mart. the apple of discord — the laurel of discord — the poverty of criticism. Swift’s opinion of the power of six geniuses united. That union scarce possible. His remarks just; man a social, not steady nature. Drawn to man by words, repelled by passions. Orb drawn by attraction rep. [repelled] by centrifugal.
‘Common danger unites by crushing other passions — but they return.
Equality hinders compliance. Superiority produces insolence and envy.
Too much regard in each to private interest — too little.
‘The mischiefs of private and exclusive societies — the fitness of social attraction diffused through the whole. The mischiefs of too partial love of our country. Contraction of moral duties — [Greek: oi philoi on philos].
‘Every man moves upon his own center, and therefore repels others from too near a contact, though he may comply with some general laws.
‘Of confederacy with superiours, every one knows the inconvenience. With equals, no authority; — every man his own opinion — his own interest.
‘Man and wife hardly united; — scarce ever without children. Computation, if two to one against two, how many against five? If confederacies were easy — useless; — many oppresses many. — If possible only to some, dangerous. Principum amicitias’.
Here we see the embryo of Number 45 of the Adventurer; and it is a confirmation of what I shall presently have occasion to mention, that the papers in that collection marked T. were written by Johnson.
This scanty preparation of materials will not, however, much diminish our wonder at the extraordinary fertility of his mind; for the proportion which they bear to the number of essays which he wrote, is very small; and it is remarkable, that those for which he had made no preparation, are as rich and as highly finished as those for which the hints were lying by him. It is also to be observed, that the papers formed from his hints are worked up with such strength and elegance, that we almost lose sight of the hints, which become like ‘drops in the bucket.’ Indeed, in several instances, he has made a very slender use of them, so that many of them remain still unapplied.
As the Rambler was entirely the work of one man, there was, of course, such a uniformity in its texture, as very much to exclude the charm of variety; and the grave and often solemn cast of thinking, which distinguished it from other periodical papers, made it, for some time, not generally liked. So slowly did this excellent work, of which twelve editions have now issued from the press, gain upon the world at large, that even in the closing number the authour says, ‘I have never been much a favourite of the publick.’
Yet, very soon after its commencement, there were who felt and acknowledged its uncommon excellence. Verses in its praise appeared in the newspapers; and the editor of the Gentleman’s Magazine mentions, in October, his having received several letters to the same purpose from the learned. The Student, or Oxford and Cambridge Miscellany, in which Mr. Bonnell Thornton and Mr. Colman were the principal writers, describes it as ‘a work that exceeds anything of the kind ever published in this kingdom, some of the Spectators excepted — if indeed they may be excepted.’ And afterwards, ‘May the publick favours crown his merits, and may not the English, under the auspicious reign of GEORGE the Second, neglect a man, who, had he lived in the first century, would have been one of the greatest favourites of Augustus.’ This flattery of the monarch had no effect. It is too well known, that the second George never was an Augustus to learning or genius.
Johnson told me, with an amiable fondness, a little pleasing circumstance relative to this work. Mrs. Johnson, in whose judgement and taste he had great confidence, said to him, after a few numbers of the Rambler had come out, ‘I thought very well of you before; but I did not imagine you could have written any thing equal to this.’ Distant praise, from whatever quarter, is not so delightful as that of a wife whom a man loves and esteems. Her approbation may be said to ‘come home to his bosom;’ and being so near, its effect is most sensible and permanent.
Mr. James Elphinston, who has since published various works, and who was ever esteemed by Johnson as a worthy man, happened to be in Scotland while the Rambler was coming out in single papers at London. With a laudable zeal at once for the improvement of his countrymen, and the reputation of his friend, he suggested and took the charge of an edition of those Essays at Edinburgh, which followed progressively the London publication.
The following letter written at this time, though not dated, will show how much pleased Johnson was with this publication, and what kindness and regard he had for Mr. Elphinston.
‘To MR. JAMES ELPHINSTON.
[No date.]
‘DEAR SIR,
‘I cannot but confess the failures of my correspondence, but hope the same regard which you express for me on every other occasion, will incline you to forgive me. I am often, very often, ill; and, when I am well, am obliged to work: and, indeed, have never much used myself to punctuality. You are, however, not to make unkind inferences, when I forbear to reply to your kindness; for be assured, I never receive a letter from you without great pleasure, and a very warm sense of your generosity and friendship, which I heartily blame myself for not cultivating with more care. In this, as in many other cases, I go wrong, in opposition to conviction; for I think scarce any temporal good equally to be desired with the regard and familiarity of worthy men. I hope we shall be some time nearer to each other, and have a more ready way of pouring out our hearts.
‘I am glad that you still find encouragement to proceed in your publication, and shall beg the favour of six more volumes to add to my former six, when you can, with any convenience, send them me. Please to present a set, in my name, to Mr. Ruddiman, of whom, I hear, that his learning is not his highest excellence. I have transcribed the mottos, and returned them, I hope not too late, of which I think many very happily performed. Mr. Cave has put the last in the magazine, in which I think he did well. I beg of you to write soon, and to write often, and to write long letters, which I hope in time to repay you; but you must be a patient creditor. I have, however, this of gratitude, that I think of you with regard, when I do not, perhaps, give the proofs which I ought, of being, Sir,
‘Your most obliged and
‘Most humble servant.
SAM. JOHNSON.’
This year he wrote to the same gentleman another letter, upon a mournful occasion,
‘To Mr. JAMES ELPHINSTON.
September 25, 1750.
‘DEAR SIR,
‘You have, as I find by every kind of evidence, lost an excellent mother; and I hope you will not think me incapable of partaking of your grief. I have a mother, now eighty-two years of age, whom, therefore, I must soon lose, unless it please GOD that she rather should mourn for me. I read the letters in which you relate your mother’s death to Mrs. Strahan, and think I do myself honour, when I tell you that I read them with tears; but tears are neither to you nor to me of any further use, when once the tribute of nature has been paid. The business of life summons us away from useless grief, and calls us to the exercise of those virtues of which we are lamenting our deprivation. The greatest benefit which one friend can confer upon another, is to guard, and excite, and elevate his virtues. This your mother will still perform, if you diligently preserve the memory of her life, and of her death: a life, so far as I can learn, useful, wise, and innocent; and a death resigned, peaceful, and holy. I cannot forbear to mention, that neither reason nor revelation denies you to hope, that you may increase her happiness by obeying her precepts; and that she may, in her present state, look with pleasure upon every act of virtue to which her instructions or example have contributed. Whether this be more than a pleasing dream, or a just opinion of separate spirits, is, indeed, of no great importance to us, when we consider ourselves as acting under the eye of GOD: yet, surely, there is something pleasing in the belief, that our separation from those whom we love is merely corporeal; and it may be a great incitement to virtuous friendship, if it can be made probable, that that union that has received the divine approbation shall continue to eternity.
‘There is one expedient by which you may, in some degree, continue her presence. If you write down minutely what you remember of her from your earliest years, you will read it with great pleasure, and receive from it many hints of soothing recollection, when time shall remove her yet farther from you, and your grief shall be matured to veneration. To this, however painful for the present, I cannot but advise you, as to a source of comfort and satisfaction in the time to come; for all comfort and all satisfaction is sincerely wished you by, dear Sir,
‘Your most obliged, most obedient,
‘And most humble servant,
‘SAM. JOHNSON.’
The Rambler has increased in fame as in age. Soon after its first folio edition was concluded, it was published in six duodecimo volumes; and its authour lived to see ten numerous editions of it in London, beside those of Ireland and Scotland.
I profess myself to have ever entertained a profound veneration for the astonishing force and vivacity of mind which the Rambler exhibits. That Johnson had penetration enough to see, and seeing would not disguise the general misery of man in this state of being, may have given rise to the superficial notion of his being too stern a philosopher. But men of reflection will be sensible that he has given a true representation of human existence, and that he has, at the same time, with a generous benevolence displayed every consolation which our state affords us; not only those arising from the hopes of futurity, but such as may be attained in the immediate progress through life. He has not depressed the soul to despondency and indifference. He has every where inculcated study, labour, and exertion. Nay, he has shewn, in a very odious light, a man whose practice is to go about darkening the views of others, by perpetual complaints of evil, and awakening those considerations of danger and distress, which are, for the most part, lulled into a quiet oblivion. This he has done very strongly in his character of Suspirius, from which Goldsmith took that of Croaker, in his comedy of The Good-Natured Man, as Johnson told me he acknowledged to him, and which is, indeed, very obvious.
