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for he found here a constant succession of what gave him the highest enjoyment, the society of the learned, the witty, and the eminent in every way; who were assembled in numerous companies, called forth his wonderful powers, and gratified him with admiration, to which no man could be insensible.

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In the October of this year he at length gave to the world his edition of "Shakspeare," which, if it had no other merit but that of producing his Preface, in which the excellences and defects of that immortal bard are displayed with a masterly hand, the nation would have had no reason to complain. A blind indiscriminate admiration of Shakspeare had exposed the British nation to the ridicule of foreigners. Johnson, by candidly admitting the faults of his poet, had the more credit in bestowing on him deserved and indisputable praise; and doubtless none of all his panegyrists have done him half so much honour. Their praise was like that of a counsel, upon his own side of the cause: Johnson's was like the grave, well-considered, and impartial opinion of the judge, which falls from his lips. with weight, and is received with reverence. What he did as a commentator has no small share of merit, though his researches were not so ample, and his investigations so

1 Johnson was insensible to Churchill's abuse; but the poem before mentioned had brought to remembrance that his edition of Shakespeare had long been due. His friends took the alarm, and, by all the arts of reasoning and persuasion, laboured to convince him that, having taken subscriptions for a work in which he had made no progress, his credit was at stake. He confessed he was culpable, and promised from time to time to begin a course of such reading as was necessary to qualify him for the work this was no more than he had formerly done in an engagement with Coxeter, to whom he had bound himself to write the Life of Shakespeare, but he never could be prevailed on to begin it, so that even now it was questioned whether his promises were to be relied on. For this reason Sir Joshua Reynolds, and some other of his friends, who were more concerned for his reputation than himself seemed to be, contrived to entangle him by a wager, or some other pecuniary engagement, to perform his task by a certain time.—Hawkins' Life, p. 440.

Grainger thus writes to Percy on this subject, "27th June, 1758: I have several times called on Johnson to pay him part of your subscription-I say part, because he never thinks of working if he has a couple of guineas in his pocket." And again, 20th July: "As to his Shakespeare, movet sed non promovet. I shall feed him occasionally with guineas."-Prior's Goldsmith, i., 235.-Croker.

acute, as they might have been; which we now certainly know from the labours of other able and ingenious critics who have followed him. He has enriched his edition with a concise account of each play, and of its characteristic excellence. Many of his notes have illustrated obscurities in the text, and placed passages eminent for beauty in a more conspicuous light; and he has, in general, exhibited such a mode of annotation, as may be beneficial to all subsequent editors.

His "Shakspeare" was virulently attacked by Mr. William Kenrick, who obtained the degree of LL.D. from a Scotch university, and wrote for the booksellers in a great variety of branches. Though he certainly was not without considerable merit, he wrote with so little regard to decency, and principles, and decorum, and in so hasty a manner, that his reputation was neither extensive nor lasting. I remember one evening, when some of his works were mentioned, Dr. Goldsmith said, he had never heard of them; upon which Dr. Johnson observed, "Sir, he is one of the many who have made themselves public, without making themselves known."

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A young student of Oxford, of the name of Barclay, wrote an answer to Kenrick's review of Johnson's "Shakspeare." Johnson was at first angry that Kenrick's attack should have the credit of an answer. But afterwards, considering the young man's good intention, he kindly noticed him, and probably would have done more, had not the young man died.

In his Preface to" Shakspeare," Johnson treated Voltaire very contemptuously, observing, upon some of his remarks, "These are the petty cavils of petty minds." Voltaire, in revenge, made an attack upon Johnson, in one of his numerous literary sallies which I remember to have read;

Kenrick was born at Watford, Herts, and was brought up to the business of a rule-maker, which he quitted for literature.

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Of this

attack," entitled "A Review of Dr. Johnson's new edition of Shakespeare; in which the Ignorance or Inattention of that Editor is exposed, and the Poet defended from the Persecution of his Commentators," Dr. Johnson only said, "He did not think himself bound by Kenrick's rules." In 1774 he delivered Lectures on Shakespeare, and the next year commenced the London Review, which he continued to his death, June 10, 1779.-Wright.

but, there being no general index to his voluminous works, have searched in vain, and therefore cannot quote it.1

Voltaire was an antagonist with whom I thought Johnson should not disdain to contend. I pressed him to answer. He said, he perhaps might; but he never did.

Mr. Burney having occasion to write to Johnson for some receipts for subscriptions to his "Shakspeare," which Johnson had omitted to deliver when the money was paid, he availed himself of that opportunity of thanking Johnson for the great pleasure which he had received from the perusal of his Preface to "Shakspeare;" which, although it excited much clamour against him at first, is now justly ranked among the most excellent of his writings, To this letter Johnson returned the following answer:—

"SIR,

TO CHARLES BURNEY, ESQ.,

In Poland Street.

your

"Oct. 16, 1765.

"I am sorry that kindness to me has brought upon you so much trouble, though you have taken care to abate that sorrow, by the pleasure which I received from your approbation. I defend my criticism in the same manner with you. We must confess the faults of our favourite, to gain credit to our praise of his excellencies. He that claims, either in himself or for another, the honours of perfection, will surely injure the reputation which he designs to assist. Be pleased to make my compliments to your family. I am, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant,

"SAM. JOHNSON."

From one of his Journals I transcribed what follows:"At church, Oct.—65.

2 "Je ne veux point soupçonner le sieur Jonson d'être un mauvais plaisant, et d'aimer trop le vin: mais je trouve un peu singulier qu'il compte la bouffonnerie et l'ivrognerie parmi les beautés du théâtre tragique;" &c., &c. Dictionnaire Philosophique, art. "Art Drama

tique." Voltaire, édit. 1784, vol. xxxviii., p. 10.—Wright.

"To avoid all singularity: Bonaventura.1

"To come in before service, and compose my mind by meditation, or by reading some portions of scripture. Tetty.

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If I can hear the sermon, to attend it, unless attention be more troublesome than useful.

"To consider the act of prayer as a reposal of myself upon God, and a resignation of all into his holy hand."

Both in 1764 and 1765 it should seem that he was so busily employed with his edition of Shakspeare, as to have had little leisure for any other literary exertion, or, indeed, even for private correspondence. He did not favour me with a single letter for more than two years, for which it will appear that he afterwards apologised.

He was, however, at all times ready to give assistance to his friends, and others, in revising their works, and in writing for them, or greatly improving, their Dedications. In that courtly species of composition no man excelled Dr. Johnson. Though the loftiness of his mind prevented him from ever dedicating in his own person, he wrote a very great number of Dedications for others. Some of these, the persons who were favoured with them are unwilling should be mentioned, from a too anxious apprehension, as I think, that they might be suspected of having received larger assistance; and some, after all the diligence I have bestowed, have escaped my inquiries. He told me, a great many years ago, "he believed he had dedicated to all the Royal Family round;" and it was indifferent to him what was the subject of the work dedicated, provided it were innocent. He once dedicated some music for the German Flute to Edward, Duke of York. In writing Dedications for others, he considered himself as by no means speaking his own sentiments.

Notwithstanding his long silence, I never omitted to write to him, when I had any thing worthy of communicating. I generally kept copies of my letters to him, that I might have a full view of our correspondence, and never be at a loss to understand any reference in his letters. He kept the greater part of mine very carefully; and a short

He was probably proposing to himself the model of this excellent person, who for his piety was named the Seraphic Doctor.

time before his death was attentive enough to seal them up in bundles, and ordered them to be delivered to me, which was accordingly done. Amongst them I found one, of which I had not made a copy, and which I own I read with pleasure at the distance of almost twenty years. It is dated November, 1765, at the palace of Pascal Paoli, in Corte, the capital of Corsica, and is full of generous enthusiasm. After giving a sketch of what I had seen and heard in that island, it proceeded thus: "I dare to call this a spirited tour. I dare to challenge your approbation." This letter produced the following answer, which I found on my arrival at Paris.

"DEAR SIR,

A M. M. BOSWELL.

Chez M. Waters, Banquier, à Paris.

"Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, Jan. 14, 1766.

"Apologies are seldom of any use. We will delay till your arrival the reasons, good or bad, which have made me such a sparing and ungrateful correspondent. Be assured, for the present, that nothing has lessened either the esteem or love with which I dismissed you at Harwich. Both have been increased by all that I have been told of you by yourself or others; and when you return, you will return to an unaltered, and, I hope, unalterable friend.

"All that you have to fear from me is the vexation of disappointing me. No man loves to frustrate expectations which have been formed in his favour; and the pleasure which I promise myself from your journals and remarks is so great, that perhaps no degree of attention or discernment will be sufficient to afford it.

"Come home, however, and take your chance. I long to see you, and to hear you; and hope that we shall not be so long separated again. Come home, and expect such welcome as is due to him, whom a wise and noble curiosity has led, where perhaps no native of this country ever was before.

"I have no news to tell you that can deserve your notice; nor would I willingly lessen the pleasure that any novelty may give you at your return. I am afraid we shall find it difficult to keep

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