UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 ILLi’f'?!S LIERARY 
 AT Uft^ n j\jA«CHAMPAIGN 
 
 BOOKSTACKS 
 

 
 
 
 
 
edited by 
 J. Fbtter Briscoe, 
 
 F.RH.S. 
 
THE BIBELOTS 
 
 Vol. I. Coleridge’s Table-Talk. 
 
 ,, II. Herrick’s Women, Love, and 
 Flowers. 
 
 ,, III. Leigh Hunt’s The World of Books. 
 
 ,, IV. Gay’s Trivia, and other Poems. 
 
 ,, V. Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. 
 
 ,, VI. Keats’s Shorter Poems. 
 
 ,, VII. Sydney Smith — His Wit and 
 Wisdom. 
 
 ,, VIII. An Elizabethan Garland. 
 
 Daily Telegraph. — ‘ One of the prettiest sets of booklets 
 which have recently exhibited the taste and skill of 
 modern publishers.’ 
 
 Literature . — ‘We have seldom seen any handy reprint so * 
 clearly printed, on such excellent paper, and so well 
 fitted to stand rough wear.’ 
 
 Daily News. — ‘Among the daintiest little volumes on the 
 book market.’ 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. — ‘ The daintiest books of the season.’ 
 Birmingham Post. — ‘ The artistic production of the little 
 book is as perfect as the idea is felicitous. ’ 
 
 Spectator. — ‘As pretty as the first, and we have nothing 
 but commendation for the series.’ 
 
 Punch. — ‘ These daintily bound volumes, a library in 
 themselves precious to the lover of books.’ 
 
 Globe.— 'The binding, type, and paper are irreproachable.’ 
 
 LONDON : GAY AND BIRD 
 
 22 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates 
 
 https://archive.org/details/drjohnsonstablet00john_0 
 
LONDON 
 GAY § BIRD 
 1900 
 

 
 Edinburgh : T. &■ A, Constable , Printers to Her Majesty 
 
SteJb 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 |g3^KAMUEL JOHNSON was born 
 il O If on September 18, 1709, and 
 i| O If died on December 13, 1784, at 
 — 3 the age of seventy-five years. 
 
 He was the eldest child of a 
 bookseller, Michael Johnson, who carried on 
 his business and dwelt in the market-place 
 opposite St. Mary’s Church at Lichfield. At 
 the age of three he was ‘ touched for the king’s 
 evil’ by Queen Anne in London — the last 
 instance, it is believed, of this ceremony 
 being performed in England. Samuel was 
 educated at a dame school ; then by Tom 
 Brown ; later at the local grammar-school, 
 Stourbridge School, and at Pembroke College, 
 Oxford University. He left Oxford in 1731, 
 at the end of which year his father died, 
 after Samuel’s three years’ residence there ; 
 and in the following year young Johnson 
 walked to Market Bosworth to become a 
 j teacher. His stay here was of short dura- 
 tion. After this he passed some time at 
 
vi Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 Hey wood as a private tutor. Subsequently 
 he passed backwards and forwards between 
 Lichfield and Birmingham. At the latter place 
 he made the acquaintance of Mrs. Porter, 
 and married her at Derby on July 9, 1735. 
 They were united for seventeen years, when, 
 in 1752, Mrs. Johnson died, in Gough Square, 
 after a long period of ‘ perpetual illness and 
 perpetual opium. 5 During his married life 
 Johnson set up a school at Edial Hall, and 
 removed to London, where he resided until 
 his death. He published during his wife’s 
 life — which closed about the same time as 
 The Rambler , and while Johnson was en- 
 gaged upon his Dictionary — several works 
 which are specified in a later paragraph. 
 
 In 1755 the degree of Master of Arts was 
 conferred upon him by his university, which 
 gave him hisD.C.L. degree just twenty years 
 later. He became a Dublin LL.D. in 1765. 
 
 Johnson’s places of residence in London 
 were Gough Square (1748-1759), where he 
 compiled the Dictionary, and wrote The 
 Rambler , the major portion of The Idler , 
 and Rasselas. In March 1759 he removed 
 to Staple Inn, but; in December of the same 
 year he dwelt in Gray’s Inn, remaining there 
 until 1760, when he removed to chambers on 
 the first floor of No. 1 Inner Temple Lane. 
 There he stayed until 1766, in which year 
 he took a house in Johnson’s Court. 
 
 His many associations must not, through 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 vii 
 
 the exigencies of space, be treated of here ; 
 but estimates of his character and literary 
 work will be slightly touched upon, and 
 some bibliographical data presented. 
 
 One of our latter-day editors of this £ true- 
 born Englishman, ’ Dr. G. Birkbeck Hill, has 
 stated with great accuracy that ‘ no man has 
 ever held the same place as Johnson,’ for 
 ‘ he was the unrivalled talker, the master of 
 the art of life, the oracle whom all men 
 could consult, the dread of the fool and the 
 atfected, the founder of a great school of 
 truthfulness and accuracy, the profound 
 teacher of morality. Death laid his hand 
 on him in vain ; for though Johnson was 
 gone, the land became more and more John- 
 sonised. Great though his fame was in his 
 lifetime, it is still greater in his death. His 
 written wisdom was indeed great, but it is 
 in his spoken wisdom that he lives.’ 
 
 Boswell’s Life of Johnson is, to quote 
 Burke, ‘a greater monument to Johnson’s 
 fame than all his writings put together’; 
 and, to again use Dr. Hill’s words, it had 
 ‘for its subject a man whose character was 
 noble in itself, and was marked in the 
 deepest and strongest lines. Striking and 
 even wonderful though this character was, 
 yet it seems to be understood only by the 
 English-speaking race. His wit, his humour, 
 his strong common-sense, his truthfulness, 
 his roughness, his tenderness, are known to 
 
viii Johnson ;s table-talk 
 
 us and us alonei Of all Englishmen he was 
 the most English — in his bad qualities as 
 well as in his good, in his prejudices as well 
 as in his wisdom.’ 
 
 The same writer, in the course of a lengthy 
 essay, further crystallises Johnson’s charac- 
 teristics and philosophy as follows: — ‘The 
 most striking quality in Johnson was his 
 wisdom, his knowledge of the whole art of 
 life. If common-sense can be thought of as 
 invested with majesty, it is seen in all its 
 stateliness much more in the dictionary- 
 maker than in the Lord Chancellor. Round 
 about his common-sense and his tenderness, 
 and mingled with them in endless variety, 
 his humour and his wit are ever playing. 
 He is wholly free from all affectation, all 
 cynicism, all moroseness, all peevishness. 
 He is as far removed from the savageness of 
 Swift as from the querulous irritability of 
 Carlyle. He never snarls and he never 
 whines. Life, he holds, is unhappy ; it must 
 be unhappy. He accepts life as it is. The 
 worst thing of all is to sit down and whine. 
 He dislikes all affectation. It is this freedom 
 from affectation which gives such weight and 
 such interest to his criticisms. He is never 
 afraid to speak what he holds to be the truth, 
 however great may be the author whom he 
 reviews. He is no lover of singularity. He 
 is not ashamed to own his natural feelings. 
 In the art of the management of the mind 
 
INTRODUCTION ix 
 
 he is one of the greatest masters. He is full 
 of the most ardent curiosity. In all his 
 greatness it is along the common ways of 
 men that he moves. In every circle he is 
 the first, yet the companions of his home 
 life are a poor blind lady and an obscure 
 practiser in physic. He neither lives in a 
 mist, nor does he ever try for a single 
 moment to throw one round him. He thinks 
 clearly, and he states with perfect clearness 
 what he thinks. It is true that he often 
 talks paradox, but whether he is right or 
 wrong he is as clear as the day.’ 
 
 Goldsmith said that ‘Johnson to be sure 
 has a rough manner, but no man alive has a 
 better heart. He has nothing of the bear 
 but the skin.’ Carlyle describes him as ‘ a 
 mass of genuine manhood,’ while Adam 
 Smith characterised him as ‘a brute,’ and 
 Curran writes of him as ‘a superstitious 
 and brutish bigot,’ who had, ‘with the 
 exception of the English Dictionary, done 
 more injury to the English language than 
 even Gibbon himself.’ Horace Walpole 
 expressed the opinion that ‘ with a lumber of 
 learning and some strong parts, Johnson was 
 an odious and mean character. His manners 
 were sordid, supercilious, and brutal ; his 
 style ridiculously bombastic and vicious ; 
 and, in one word, with all the pedantry, he 
 had all the gigantic littleness of a country 
 schoolmaster.’ 
 
x Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 Respecting his ‘pomp of diction,’ it has 
 been pointed out that this ‘ which has been 
 objected to in Johnson was first assumed in 
 The Rambler . His Dictionary was going on 
 at the same time, and in the course of that 
 work, as he grew familiar with technical and 
 scholastic words, he thought that the bulk of 
 his readers were equally learned, or at least 
 would admire the splendour and dignit} T of 
 the style. And yet it is well known that he 
 praised in Cowley the ease and unaffected 
 structure of the sentences.’ 
 
 In his monograph on Johnson, Dr. Leslie 
 Stephen, in dealing with the mannerisms of 
 the Doctor, says : — ‘ Johnson’s sentences 
 seem to be contorted, as his gigantic limbs 
 used to twitch, by a kind of mechanical 
 spasmodic action. The most obvious peculi- 
 arity is the tendency, which he noticed 
 himself, to “use too big words and too many 
 of them.” ... It was not, however, the 
 mere bigness of the words that distinguished 
 his style, but a peculiar love of putting the 
 abstract for the concrete, of using awkward 
 inversions, and of balancing his sentences in 
 a monotonous rhythm, which gives the 
 appearance, as it sometimes corresponds to 
 the reality, of elaborate logical discrimina- 
 tion. With all its faults the style has the 
 merits of masculine directness. The inver- 
 sions are not such as to complicate the 
 construction. As Boswell remarks, he never 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 uses a parenthesis ; and his style, though 
 ponderous and wearisome, is as transparent 
 as the smarter snip-snap of Macaulay. . . . 
 Johnson’s style is characteristic of the indi- 
 vidual and of the epoch. The preceding 
 generation had exhibited the final triumph 
 of common-sense over the pedantry of a 
 decaying scholasticism.’ 
 
 The wisdom displayed in the numerous 
 products of Johnson’s pen was very great, 
 
 ‘ but it is in his spoken wisdom that he 
 lives ’ ; and Dr. Stephen points out that ‘ the 
 only writing in which we see a distinct re- 
 flection of Johnson’s talk is in the Lives of 
 the Poets. The excellence of that book is of 
 the same kind as the excellence of his 
 conversation.’ 
 
 W raxall wrote of J ohnson : ‘ I consider him 
 as the most illustrious and universal man of 
 letters whom I have personally known. Adam 
 Smith, Jacob Bryant, and Horace Walpole, 
 all of whom I knew, eminent as were their 
 talents, could not on the whole sustain a 
 competition with J ohnson ’ ; and Garrick 
 says that ‘ Rabelais and all other wits are 
 nothing compared to him. You may be 
 diverted by them, but Johnson gives you a 
 forcible hug and squeezes out of you whether 
 you will or no. ’ 
 
 As illustrating the greatly varied character 
 of Johnson’s writings, and for bibliographi- 
 cal purposes, there follows a list of the 
 
xii Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 Doctor’s writings arranged in the order of 
 publication: — A Voyage to Abyssinia, by 
 Father Jerome Lobo (translation), 1735; 
 London, a poem, 1738 ; A Complete Vindica- 
 tion of the Licensers of the Stage, 1739 ; 
 Marmor Norfolciense, 1739 ; Life of Richard 
 Savage, 1744; Miscellaneous Observations on 
 the Tragedy of Macbeth, 17 45 ; The Plan of 
 a Dictionary of the English Language, 17 47 ; 
 The Vanity of Human Wishes, a poem, 1749 ; 
 Irene, a tragedy, 1749 ; The Rambler, 
 1750-2; Dictionary of the English Language, 
 1755 ; The Idler, 1758-1761 ; The Prince of 
 Abyssinia (Rasselas), 1759 ; The Review of 
 a Free Inquiry, 1759 : Preface to his edition 
 of Shakespeare, 1765; The False Alarm, 
 1770 ; Thoughts on the late Transactions 
 respecting Falkland’s Islands, 1771 ; The 
 Patriot, 1774 ; Taxation no Tyranny, 1775 ; 
 A Journey to the Western Islands of Scot- 
 land, 1775 ; The Convict’s Address, 1777 ; 
 Works of the English Poets (biographical 
 and critical introductions), 1779-81 ; Poetical 
 Works, 1785; The Life of Dr. Walls, 1785; 
 Prayers and Meditations, 1785 ; Memoirs of 
 Charles Frederick, King of Prussia, 1786 ; 
 Debates in Parliament, 1787 ; The Works of 
 Samuel Johnson, 1787 ; Sermon written for 
 the Funeral of his Wife, 1788 ; Letters to and 
 from the late Samuel Johnson, 1788 ; 
 Sermons on different subjects, 1788-9; 
 Letter to the Earl of Chesterfield, 1790 ; A 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Xlll 
 
 Conversation between King George in. and 
 Dr. Johnson, 1790 ; Life of Samuel Johnson, 
 written by himself, 1805 ; A Diary of a 
 Journey into North Wales, 1816. As 
 Johnson died in 1784, it will be seen that 
 his poetical works and twelve other literary 
 productions were issued posthumously, and 
 about twenty -two works were associated 
 with his name during his lifetime. 
 
 Those who would pursue the subject 
 further are referred to the Johnson Biblio- 
 graphy, by Mr. J. P. Anderson, of the 
 British Museum Library, which is in Lieut. - 
 Col. F. Grant’s Life of Samuel Johnson , 
 first published in the ‘Great Writers’ series 
 in 1887. 
 
 Under various titles — ‘ Johnsoniana ’ and 
 ‘Beauties’ — two selections of six or seven 
 editions were published in Johnson’s time ; 
 others — ‘Johnsoniana,’ ‘Beauties,’ and 
 ‘Table-talk,’ and new editions of the earlier 
 Ana — came later, and well down into the 
 present century ; and other volumes of 
 extracts by Mrs. Napier, Messrs. A. Howard, 
 W. P. Page, W. A. Clouston, Drs. Macaulay 
 and Birkbeck Hill, and anonymous editors, 
 appeared between 1834 and 1888. 
 
 The present selection is from many of Dr. 
 Johnson’s writings. These are specified at 
 the foot of each example of the wit and the 
 wisdom of the Doctor. It will be noticed 
 that the selections are arranged in alpha- 
 
xiv Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 betical order according to subjects in the 
 front part of this booklet ; and an Index 
 of Subject-headings is furnished, for ready 
 reference, and Indices of Names, at the end. 
 
 It is hoped that the publication of this 
 collection of Johnsoniana may induce 
 readers to renew their interest in the author 
 and his productions, or may create a feeling 
 which will lead them to make acquaintance 
 with the varied writing of the burly Doctor. 
 
 J. P. B. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction, ..... v 
 
 Part I. — Aphorisms, etc., . i 
 
 Part II. — Anecdotes, . . . 105 
 
 Part III. — Estimates of Authors, . 129 
 
 Subject Index to Part I., . . 146 
 
 Index Nominum to Part II., . . 149 
 
 Index Nominum to Part III., . . 150 
 

TABLE-TALK OF 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON 
 
 PART I 
 
 APHORISMS, ETC. 
 
 ABILITY 
 
 I T was well observed by Pythagoras, that 
 ability and necessity dwell near each 
 other. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 ACTIONS 
 
 T HINGS may be seen differently, and 
 differently shown ; but actions are 
 visible, though motives are secret. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
 ADVERSITY 
 
 A DYERSITY has ever been considered 
 ■ *- as the state in which a man most 
 easily becomes acquainted with himself ; 
 and this effect it must produce, by with- 
 
 A 
 
2 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 drawing flatterers, whose business it is to 
 hide our weaknesses from us ; or by giving 
 loose to malice, and licence to reproach ; or, 
 at least, by cutting off those pleasures which 
 called us away from meditation on our own 
 conduct, and repressing that pride which too 
 easily persuades us that we merit whatever 
 we enjoy. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 ADVICE 
 
 T F we consider the manner in which those 
 who assume the office of directing the 
 conduct of others execute their undertaking, 
 it will not be very wonderful that their 
 labours, however zealous or affectionate, 
 are frequently useless. For, what is the 
 advice that is commonly given? A few 
 general maxims, enforced with vehemence 
 and inculcated with importunity ; but fail- 
 ing for want of particular reference and 
 immediate application. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 AFFECTATION 
 
 A FFECTATION naturally counterfeits 
 those excellences which are placed at 
 the greatest distance from possibility of 
 attainment, because, knowing our own de- 
 fects, we eagerly endeavour to supply them 
 with artificial excellence. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 3 
 
 FFECTATION is to be always dis- 
 
 tinguished from hypocrisy , as being 
 the art of counterfeiting those qualities 
 which we might with innocence and safety 
 be known to want. Hypocrisy is the 
 necessary burthen of villainy : Affectation 
 
 part of the chosen trappings of folly ; the 
 one completes a villain, the other only 
 finishes a fop. 
 
 T T E that would pass the latter part of his 
 ^ life with honour and decency, must, 
 when he is young , consider that he shall one 
 day be old , and remember, when he is old , 
 that he has once been young. 
 
 A N old age unsupported with matter for 
 discourse and meditation, is much to 
 be dreaded. No state can be more destitute 
 than that of him, who, when the delights of 
 sense forsake him, has no pleasures of the 
 mind. 
 
 ANTICIPATION 
 
 A A /"HATEYER advantage we snatch be- 
 ^ * yond a certain portion allotted us by 
 nature, is like money spent before it is due, 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 AGE 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
4 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 which at the time of regular payment, will 
 be missed and regretted. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 APHORISMS 
 
 A \ 7E frequentty fall into error and folly, 
 * » not because the true principles of 
 action are not known, but because, for a 
 time, they are not remembered ; he may 
 therefore be justly numbered amongst the 
 benefactors of mankind, who contracts the 
 great rules of life into short sentences, 
 that may be easily impressed on the memory, 
 and taught by frequent recollection to recur 
 habitually to the mind. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 APPARITIONS 
 
 A TOTAL disbelief of apparitions is ad- 
 verse to the opinion of the existence 
 of the soul between death and the last day. 
 The question simply is, whether departed 
 spirits ever have the power of making them- 
 selves perceptible to us. A man who thinks 
 he has seen an apparition can only be con- 
 vinced himself ; his authority will not con- 
 vince another ; and his conviction, if rational, 
 must be founded on being told something 
 which cannot be known but by supernatural 
 means. (See also Ghosts.) 
 
 Boswells Johnson. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 5 
 
 ARMY 
 
 A N army, especially a defensive army, 
 multiplies itself. The contagion of 
 enterprise spreads from one heart to another ; 
 zeal for a native, or detestation for a foreign 
 sovereign ; hope of sudden greatness or 
 riches, friendship or emulation between par- 
 ticular men, or what are perhaps more 
 general and powerful, desire of novelty, and 
 impatience of inactivity, fill a camp with 
 adventurers, add rank to rank, and squadron 
 to squadron. 
 
 Memoirs of the King of P mis si a. 
 
 AUTHORSHIP 
 
 T T is not easy for any man to write upon 
 * literature, or common life, so as not to 
 make himself known to those with whom he 
 familiarly converses, and who are acquainted 
 with his track of study, his favourite topics, 
 his peculiar notions, and his habitual 
 phrases. 
 
 Life of Addison. 
 
 Hr HE two most engaging powers of an 
 author, are to make new things 
 familiar , and familiar things neiv. 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
6 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 AVARICE 
 
 "E* EW listen without a desire of conviction 
 to those who advise them to spare 
 their money. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 A VARICE is always poor, but poor by 
 her own fault. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 BEAUTY 
 
 T N the works of nature, if we compare one 
 species with another, all are equally 
 beautiful, and preference is given from 
 custom, or some association of ideas ; and in 
 creatures of the same species, beauty is the 
 medium or centre of all its various forms. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 B EAUTY without kindness dies unen- 
 joyed and undelighting. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 'XT EITHER man nor woman will have 
 much difficulty to tell how beauty 
 makes riches pleasant , except by declaring 
 ignorance of what every one knows, and 
 confessing insensibility of what every one 
 feels. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 7 
 
 I T is an observation countenanced by 
 Shakespeare, and some of our best 
 writers, that no woman can ever be offended 
 with the mention of her beauty. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 / T''HE bloom and softness of the female 
 sex are not to be expected among 
 the lower classes of life, whose faces are 
 exposed to the rudeness of the climate, and 
 whose features are sometimes contracted by 
 want, and sometimes hardened by blasts. 
 Supreme beauty is seldom found in cottages, 
 or workshops, even where no real hardships 
 are suffered. To expand the human face to 
 its full perfection, it seems necessary that 
 the mind should co-operate by placidness of 
 content, or consciousness of superiority. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 BENEVOLENCE 
 
 npHAT benevolence is always strongest 
 which arises from participation of the 
 same pleasures, since we are naturally most 
 willing to revive in our minds the memory 
 of persons with whom the idea of enjoyment 
 is connected. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
johnson’b table-talk 
 
 BOOKS 
 
 B OOKS, ’ says Bacon, ‘ can never teach the 
 use of books . 3 The student must learn 
 by commerce with mankind to reduce his 
 speculations to practice, and accommodate 
 his knowledge to the purposes of life. 
 
 O man should think so highly of him- 
 
 self, as to imagine he could receive 
 no lights from books, nor so meanly, as to 
 believe he can discover nothing but what is 
 to be learned from them. 
 
 BREEDING 
 
 A DYENTITIOUS accomplishments may 
 be possessed by all ranks ; but one 
 may easily distinguish the born gentle- 
 woman. 
 
 BURLESQUE 
 
 B URLESQUE consists in a disproportion 
 between the style and the sentiments, 
 or between the adventitious sentiments and 
 the fundamental subject. It therefore, like 
 all bodies compounded of heterogeneous 
 parts, contains in it a principle of corruption. 
 All disproportion is unnatural, and from 
 what is unnatural we can derive only the 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Life of Dr. Boerhaave. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 9 
 
 pleasure which novelty produces. We ad- 
 mire it a while as a strange thing; but 
 when it is no longer strange, we perceive its 
 deformity. It is a kind of artifice, which, 
 by frequent repetition, detects itself ; and 
 the reader, learning in time what he is to 
 expect, lays down his book ; as the spectator 
 turns away from a second exhibition of those 
 tricks, of which the only use is, to show that 
 they can be played. 
 
 Life of Butler. 
 
 BUSINESS 
 
 T T very seldom happens to a man that his 
 business is his pleasure. What is done 
 from necessity, is so often to be done when 
 against the present inclination, and so often 
 fills the mind with anxiety, that an habitual 
 dislike steals upon us, and we shrink invol- 
 untarily from the remembrance of our task. 
 This is the reason why almost every one 
 wishes to quit his employment : he does 
 not like another state, but is disgusted with 
 his own. 
 
 Idler . 
 
 A \ WHOEVER is engaged in a multiplicity 
 * ^ of business, must transact much by 
 substitution, and leave something to hazard ; 
 and he that attempts to do all, will waste 
 his life in doing little. 
 
 Idler. 
 
io Johnson’s table-talk 
 CALAMITY 
 
 T~\IFFERENCES are never so effectually 
 laid asleep, as by some common 
 calamity. An enemy unites all to whom 
 he threatens danger. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 CENSURE 
 
 C ENSURE is willingly indulged, because 
 it always implies some superiority. 
 Men please themselves with imagining that 
 the } 7 have made a deeper search, or wider 
 survey than others, and detected faults and 
 follies which escape vulgar observation. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 T HOSE who raise envy will easily incur 
 censure. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 CHANGE 
 
 A LL change, not evidently for the better, 
 alarms a mind taught by experience 
 to distrust itself. 
 
 Vision of Theodore. 
 
 CHARACTER 
 
 I N cities, and yet more in courts, the 
 minute discriminations of character, 
 which distinguish one man from another, 
 are, for the most part, effaced. The pecu- 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 ii 
 
 liarities of temper and opinion are gradually 
 worn away by promiscuous converse, as 
 angular bodies and uneven surfaces lose 
 their points and asperities, by frequent 
 attrition against one another, and approach 
 by degrees to uniform rotundity. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 r I "'HE opinions of every man must be 
 learned from himself. Concerning 
 his practice it is safest to trust the evidence 
 of others. Where those testimonies concur, 
 no higher degree of certainty can be obtained 
 of his character. 
 
 Life of Sir Thomas Browne. 
 
 CHARITY 
 
 C HARITY would lose its name were it 
 influenced by so mean a motive as 
 human praise. 
 
 'T' O do the best can seldom be the lot of 
 man ; it is sufficient if, when oppor- 
 tunities are presented, he is ready to do 
 good. How little virtue could be practised 
 if beneficence were to wait always for the 
 most proper objects, and the noblest occa- 
 sions ; occasions that may never happen, 
 and objects that may never be found? 
 
12 
 
 JOHNSON S TABLE-TALK 
 
 HPHAT charity is best of which the con- 
 **• sequences are most extensive. 
 Introduction to the Proceedings of the Committee 
 for C loathing French Prisoners. 
 
 F Charity it is superfluous to observe, 
 
 that it could have no place if there 
 were no want ; for of a virtue which could 
 not be practised, the omission could not be 
 culpable. Evil is not only the occasional, 
 but the efficient cause of charity. We are 
 incited to the relief of misery, by the con- 
 sciousness that we have the same nature 
 with the sufferer ; that we are in danger of 
 the same distresses ; and may sometimes 
 implore the same assistance. 
 
 CIVILITY 
 
 / ^T'HE civilities of the great are never 
 ^ thrown away. 
 
 Memoirs of the King of Prussia. 
 
 CLERICAL LIFE 
 
 OIR, the life of a parson, of a con- 
 
 scientious clergyman, is not easy. I 
 have always considered a clergyman as the 
 father of a larger family than he is able to 
 maintain. I would rather have Chancery 
 suits upon my hands than the cure of souls. 
 No, sir, I do not envy a clergyman’s life as 
 an easy life, nor do I envy the clergyman 
 who makes it an easy life. 
 
 Idler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 13 
 
 COMPLAINT 
 
 ' | ' HE usual fortune of complaint is to 
 excite contempt more than pity. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
 \ \ ^HAT cannot be repaired is not to be 
 V V regretted. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 / T' HOUGH seldom any good is gotten by 
 complaint, yet we find few forbear to 
 complain but those who are afraid of being 
 reproached as the authors of their own 
 miseries. 
 
 Idler . 
 
 CONJECTURE AND KNOWLEDGE 
 
 K nowledge of ail kinds is good. 
 
 Conjecture as to things useful is 
 good ; but conjecture as to things which it 
 would be useless to know — such as whether 
 men went upon all-fours — is very idle. 
 
 CONTEMPT 
 
 C ONTEMPT is a kind of gangrene, which 
 if it seizes one part of a character 
 corrupts all the rest by degrees. 
 
 Life of Blackmore. 
 
 CONTENT 
 
 T HE foundation of content must spring 
 up in a man’s own mind ; and he who 
 has so little knowledge of human nature as 
 
14 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 to seek happiness by changing anything but 
 his own disposition, will waste his life in 
 fruitless efforts, and multiply the griefs 
 which he purposes to remove. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 COURAGE 
 
 T)EIiSONAL courage is the quality of 
 ^ highest esteem among a warlike and 
 uncivilised people ; and with the ostentatious 
 display of courage are closely connected 
 promptitude of offence, and quickness of 
 resentment. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 W E may as easily make wrong estimates 
 of our own courage, as our own 
 humility ; by mistaking a sudden effer- 
 vescence of imagination for settled resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 Life of Sir Thomas Brozune. 
 
 CREDULITY 
 
 O F all kinds of credulity the most 
 obstinate and wonderful is that of 
 political zealots ; of men who being num- 
 bered they know not how, or why, in any of 
 the parties that divide a state, resign the 
 use of their own eyes and ears, and resolve 
 to believe nothing that does not favour those 
 whom they profess to follow. 
 
 Idler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 15 
 
 C REDULITY on one part is a strong- 
 temptation to deceit on the other. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 \ \ 7"E are inclined to believe those whom 
 * ^ we do not know, because they never 
 have deceived us. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 CRITICISM 
 
 'T"' O choose the best amongst many good , is 
 1 one of the most hazardous attempts of 
 criticism. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
 W HAT Baudius says of Erasmus seems 
 applicable to many ( critics ) — Magis 
 habuit quod fugeret , quam quod sequeretur. 
 They determine rather what to condemn 
 than what to approve. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 T HE care of the theatrical critic should 
 be, to distinguish error from inability, 
 faults of inexperience from defects of 
 nature. Action irregular and turbulent may 
 be reclaimed ; vociferation vehement and 
 confused may be restrained and modulated : 
 the stalk of the tyrant may become the gait 
 of a man ; the yell of inarticulate distress 
 may be reduced to human lamentation. All 
 these faults should be, for a time, over- 
 
16 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 looked, and afterwards censured with 
 gentleness and candour. But if in an actor 
 there appears an utter vacancy of meaning, 
 a frigid equality, a stupid languor, a torpid 
 apathy ; the greatest kindness that can be 
 shown him, is a speedy sentence of expulsion. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Hr HAT a proper respect should be paid to 
 -*■ the rules of criticism will be very 
 readily allowed ; but there is always an 
 appeal from criticism to nature. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 CUNNING 
 
 C UNNING has effect from the credulity 
 of others, rather than from the abilities 
 of those who are cunning. It requires no 
 extraordinary talents to lie and deceive. 
 
 Boswell's Johnson. 
 
 CURIOSITY 
 
 C URIOSITY, like all other desires, pro- 
 duces pain as well as pleasure. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 C URIOSITY is one of the permanent and 
 certain characteristics of a vigorous 
 intellect. Every advance into knowledge 
 opens new prospects, and produces new 
 incitements to further progress. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 17 
 
 URIOSITY is the thrift of the soul ; it 
 
 inflames and torments us, and makes 
 us taste everything with joy, however other- 
 wise insipid, by which it may be quenched. 
 
 CUSTOM 
 
 ‘jP STABLISHED custom is not easily 
 broken, till some great event shakes 
 the whole system of things, and life seems 
 to recommence upon new principles. 
 
 C USTOM is commonly too strong for the 
 most resolute resolver, though fur- 
 nished for the assault with all the weapons 
 of philosophy. ‘ He that endeavours to free 
 himself from an ill habit, ’ says Bacon, ‘ must 
 not change too much at a time, lest he 
 should be discouraged by difficulty ; nor too 
 little, for then he will but make slow 
 advances.’ 
 
 T T was perhaps ordained by Providence, to 
 hinder us from tyrannising over one 
 another, that no individual should be of such 
 importance, as to cause by his retirement or 
 death any chasm in the world. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Rambler, 
 
18 Johnson’s table-talk 
 DEATH 
 
 "\T O wise man will be contented to die if 
 ^ he thinks he is to go into a state of 
 punishment. Nay, no wise man will be con- 
 tented to die if he thinks he is to fall into 
 annihilation ; for however unhappy any 
 man’s existence may be, he yet would rather 
 have it than not exist at all. No ; there is 
 no rational principle by which a man can 
 die contented, but a trust in the mercy of 
 God through the merits of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Some people are not afraid [of death], 
 because they look upon salvation as the 
 effect of an absolute decree, and think they 
 feel in themselves the marks of sanctifica- 
 tion. Others, and those the most rational 
 in my opinion, look upon salvation as con- 
 ditional, and as they never can be sure they 
 have complied with the conditions, they are 
 afraid. 
 
 Boswell's Johnson. 
 
 DECEPTION 
 
 T^vECEIT and falsehood, whatever con- 
 ^ veniences they may for a time pro- 
 mise or produce, are in the sum of life 
 obstacles to happiness. Those who profit by 
 the cheat distrust the deceiver, and the act 
 by which kindness was sought puts an end 
 to confidence. 
 
 Notes on Shakespeare . 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 19 
 
 DECEPTION, SELF- 
 
 T HERE is an art of sophistry by which 
 men have deluded their own con- 
 sciences, by persuading themselves, that 
 what would be criminal in others, is virtuous 
 in them ; as if the obligations which are laid 
 upon us by a higher power, can be over- 
 ruled by obligations which we lay upon 
 ourselves. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 DEPENDENCE 
 
 T HERE is no state more contrary to the 
 dignity of wisdom than perpetual and 
 unlimited dependence, in which the under- 
 standing lies useless, and every motion is 
 received from external impulse. Reason is 
 the great distinction of human nature, the 
 faculty by which we approach to some degree 
 of association with celestial intelligences ; 
 but as the excellence of every power appears 
 only in its operations, not to have reason, 
 and to have it useless and unemployed, is 
 nearly the same. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 W HEREVER there is wealth, there will 
 be dependence and expectation ; and 
 wherever there is dependence, there will be 
 an emulation of servility. 
 
 Rambler , 
 
20 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 DESIRE 
 
 OME desire is necessary to keep life in 
 
 motion ; and he whose real wants are 
 supplied, must admit those of fancy. 
 
 T HE desires of man increase with his 
 acquisitions — every step which he 
 advances brings something within his view, 
 which he did not see before, and which, as 
 soon as he sees it, he begins to want. 
 Where necessity ends, curiosity begins ; and 
 no sooner are we supplied with everything 
 that nature can demand, than we sit down 
 to contrive artificial appetites. 
 
 DEVOTION 
 
 OME men’s minds are so divided be- 
 
 tween heaven and earth, that they 
 pray for the prosperity of guilt, while they 
 deprecate its punishment. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 21 
 
 DIFFICULTY 
 
 N OTHING is difficult, when gain and 
 honour unite their influence. 
 
 Falkland Islands. 
 
 DILIGENCE 
 
 T~\ILIGENCE is never wholly lost. 
 
 ' Life of Collins. 
 
 'T^VlLIGENCE in employments of less 
 consequence is the most successful 
 introduction to greater enterprises. 
 
 Life of Drake. 
 
 DISGUISE 
 
 ISGUISE can gratify no longer than it 
 deceives. 
 
 Life of Somerville. 
 
 DUPLICITY 
 
 T T is generally the fate of a double dealer 
 to lose his power, and keep his enemies. 
 
 Life of Swift. 
 
 DUTY 
 
 A \ ^HEN we act according to our duty, we 
 * * commit the event to Him by whose 
 laws our actions are governed, and who will 
 suffer none to be finally punished for obedi- 
 ence. But when in prospect of some good, 
 whether natural or moral, we break the rules 
 
22 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 prescribed to us, we withdraw from the 
 direction of superior wisdom, and take all 
 consequences upon ourselves. 
 
 R ass e las. 
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 ' I A HE knowledge of external nature, and 
 of the sciences which that knowledge 
 requires, or includes, is not the great, or the 
 frequent business of the human mind. 
 Whether we provide for action, or conversa- 
 tion ; whether we wish to be useful, or 
 pleasing ; the first requisite is the religious 
 and moral knowledge of right and wrong. 
 The next is an acquaintance with the history 
 of mankind, and with those examples, which 
 may be said to embody truth, and prove 
 by events the reasonableness of opinions. 
 Prudence and justice are virtues and ex- 
 cellences of all times, and all places. We 
 are perpetually moralists, but we are geo- 
 metricians by chance. Our intercourse with 
 intellectual nature is necessary ; our specu- 
 lations upon matter are voluntary, and at 
 leisure. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 T AM always for getting a boy forward in 
 his learning, for that is sure good. I 
 would let him at first read any English book 
 which happens to engage his attention ; 
 because you have done a great deal when 
 you have brought him to have entertain- 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 23 
 
 ment from a book. He ’ll get better books 
 afterwards. 
 
 EMPLOYMENT 
 
 E MPLOYMENT is the great instrument 
 of intellectual dominion. The mind 
 cannot retire from its enemy into total 
 vacancy, or turn aside from one object, but 
 by passing to another. The gloomy and the 
 resentful are always found among those who 
 have nothing to do , or who do nothing. We 
 must be busy about good, or evil, and he to 
 whom the present offers nothing? will often 
 be looking backward on the past. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 EMULATION 
 
 A A WHATEVER is done skilfully, appears 
 * * to be done with ease ; and art, when 
 it is once matured to habit, vanishes from 
 observation. We are therefore more power- 
 fully excited to emulation by those who 
 have attained the highest degree of excel- 
 lence, and whom we can therefore with least 
 reason hope to equal. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 ENQUIRY 
 
 T N the zeal of enquiry we do not always 
 reflect on the silent encroachments of 
 time, or remember that no man is in more 
 danger of doing little, than he who flatters 
 himself with abilities to do all. 
 
 Treatise on the Longitude . 
 
24 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 ENVY 
 
 T T E that knows himself despised, will 
 always be envious; and still more 
 envious and malevolent, if he is condemned 
 to live in the presence of those who despise 
 him. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 EQUALITY, HUMAN 
 
 S O far is it from being true that men are 
 naturally equal, that no two people 
 can be half an hour together but one shall 
 acquire an evident superiority over the 
 other. 
 
 ERROR 
 
 E RRORS,’ says Dry den, ‘flow upon the 
 surface ’ ; but there are some who 
 will fetch them from the bottom. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 ESTEEM 
 
 ' I 'O raise esteem, we must benefit others ; 
 to procure love, we must please them. 
 
 Ratnbler. 
 
 EVIL 
 
 N O evil is insupportable, but that which 
 is accompanied with consciousness of 
 
 wrong. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 25 
 
 E STIMABLE and useful qualities joined 
 with an evil disposition, give that evil 
 disposition power over others, who, by 
 admiring the virtue, are betrayed to the 
 malevolence. The Tatler, mentioning the 
 sharpers of his time, observes, ‘ that some of 
 them are men of such elegance and know- 
 ledge, that a young man, who falls in their 
 way, is betrayed as much by his judgment 
 as his passions.’ 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare . 
 
 EXAMPLE 
 
 T^VERY man, in whatever station, has, 
 or endeavours to have, his followers, 
 admirers, and imitators; and has therefore 
 the influence of his example to watch with 
 care ; he ought to avoid not only crimes, but 
 the appearance of crimes, and not only to 
 practise virtue, but to applaud, countenance, 
 and support it; for it is possible, for want 
 of attention, we may teach others faults 
 from which ourselves are free, or, by a 
 cowardly desertion of a cause, which we 
 ourselves approve, may pervert those who fix 
 their eyes upon us, and having no rule of 
 their own to guide their course, are easily 
 misled by the aberrations of that example 
 which they choose for their directions. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
26 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 EXCELLENCE 
 
 HP HOSE wlio attain any excellence, com- 
 * monly spend life in one pursuit ; for 
 excellence is not often gained upon easier 
 terms. 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
 HP HERE is a vigilance of observation, and 
 accuracy of distinction, which books 
 and precepts cannot confer; and from this 
 almost all original and native excellence 
 proceeds. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 HP HEY whose excellence of any kind has 
 been loudly celebrated, are ready to 
 conclude that their powers are universal. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 EXPECTATION 
 
 E XPECTATION, when once her wings 
 are expanded, easily reaches heights 
 which performance never will attain ; and 
 when she has mounted the summit of perfec- 
 tion, derides her follower, who dies in the 
 pursuit. 
 
 Plan of an English Dictionary. 
 
 FAME 
 
 H E that is loudly praised, will be clam- 
 orously censured. He that rises 
 hastil} T into fame, will be in danger of 
 sinking suddenly into oblivion. 
 
 Idler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 27 
 
 /r T'HE memory of mischief is no desirable 
 fame. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 T HE true satisfaction which is to be 
 drawn from the consciousness that we 
 shall share the attention of future times, 
 must arise from the hope, that with our 
 names, our virtues shall be propagated, and 
 that those whom we cannot benefit in our 
 lives, may receive instruction from our 
 example, and incitement from our renown. 
 
 R ambler. 
 
 Tlj'AME is a shuttlecock. If it be struck 
 only at one end of the room it will 
 soon fall to the ground. To keep it up it 
 must be struck at both ends. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 FANCY 
 
 ' I 'HE fanciful sports of great minds are 
 A never without some advantage to 
 knowledge. 
 
 Life of Sir Thomas Browne. 
 
 FAVOUR 
 
 Tj'AYOURS of every kind are doubled 
 when they are speedily conferred. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 FEAR 
 
 A LL fear is in itself painful ; and when 
 it conduces not to safety, is painful 
 without use. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
28 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 "CP EAR is implanted in us as a preserva- 
 tive from evil ; but its duty, like that 
 of other passions, is not to overbear reason, 
 but to assist it ; nor should it be suffered to 
 tyrannise in the imagination, to raise phan- 
 toms of horror, or beset life with super- 
 numerary distresses. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 FLATTERY 
 
 ' I A HE flatterer is not often detected; for 
 an honest mind is not apt to suspect, 
 and no one exerts the power of discernment 
 with much vigour when self-love favours 
 the deceit. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 T T is necessary to the success of flattery, 
 -*• that it be accommodated to particular 
 circumstances, or characters, and enter the 
 heart on that side where the passions stand 
 ready to receive it. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 I N order that all men may be taught to 
 speak truth, it is necessary that all 
 likewise should learn to hear it ; for no 
 species of falsehood is more frequent than 
 flattery, to which the coward is betrayed by 
 fear, the dependant by interest, and the 
 friend by tenderness. Those who are neither 
 servile, nor timorous, are yet desirous to 
 
I 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 29 
 
 bestow pleasure ; and while unjust demands 
 of praise continue to be made, there will 
 always be some whom hope, fear, or kind- 
 ness will dispose to pay them. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 FOLLY 
 
 '\T O man will be found in whose mind 
 airy notions do not sometimes tyran- 
 nise, and force him to hope, or fear, beyond 
 the limits of sober probability. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 FOPPERY 
 
 "P OPPERY is never cured ; it is the bad 
 stamina of the mind, which, like 
 those of the body, are never rectified ; once 
 a coxcomb and always a coxcomb. 
 
 Boswell? s Johnson. 
 
 FORGIVENESS 
 
 W HOEVER considers the weakness both 
 of himself and others, will not long 
 want persuasives to forgiveness. We know 
 not to what degree of malignity any injury 
 is to be imputed, or how much its guilt, if 
 we were to inspect the mind of him that 
 committed it, would be extenuated by mis- 
 take, precipitance, or negligence. We can- 
 not be certain how much more we feel than 
 was intended, or how much we increase the 
 mischief to ourselves by voluntary aggra- 
 vations. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
30 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 FORTUNE 
 
 "P ORTUNE often delights to dignify 
 what nature has neglected, and that 
 renown, which cannot be claimed by intrinsic 
 excellence, or greatness, is sometimes derived 
 from unexpected accidents. 
 
 Falkland Islands. 
 
 A \ THEN fortune strikes her hardest blows, 
 
 * * to be wounded and yet continue 
 calm, requires a generous policy. Perhaps 
 the first emotions of nature are nearly uni- 
 form, and one man differs from another in 
 the power of endurance, as he is better 
 regulated by precept and instruction. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 F RIENDSHIP is not always the sequel 
 of obligation. 
 
 Life of Thomson. 
 
 U NEQUAL friendships are easily dis- 
 solved. This is often the fault of 
 the superior ; yet if we look without prejudice 
 on the world, we shall often find that men 
 whose consciousness of their own merit sets 
 them above the compliances of servility, are 
 apt enough, in their association with su- 
 periors, to watch their own dignity, with 
 troublesome and punctilious jealousy, and 
 in the fervour of independence, to exact 
 that attention which they refuse to pay. 
 
 Life of Gray. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 3i 
 
 CO many qualities are necessary to the 
 ^ possibility of friendship, and so many 
 accidents must concur to its rise and its 
 continuance, that the greatest part of man- 
 kind content themselves without it, and 
 supply its place as they can with interest 
 and dependence. 
 
 HAT friendship may be at once fond 
 
 and lasting, there must not only be 
 equal virtue on each part, but virtue of the 
 same kind ; not only the same end must be 
 proposed, but the same means must be 
 approved by both. 
 
 /^\NE of the Golden Precepts of Pytha- 
 goras directs us — ‘ That a friend 
 should not be hated for little faults.’ 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 'C'RIENDSHIP, like love, is destroyed by 
 
 long absence, though it may be in- 
 creased by short intermissions. Wliat we 
 have missed long enough to want it, we 
 value more when it is regained; but that 
 which has been lost till it is forgotten, will 
 be found at last with little gladness, and 
 with still less if a substitute has supplied 
 the place. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Idler. 
 
32 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 A MONG the many enemies of friendship 
 may be reckoned suspicion and dis- 
 gust. The former is always hardening the 
 cautious, and the latter repelling the delicate. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 TFa man does not make new acquaintance 
 as he advances through life, he will 
 soon find himself left alone. A man, sir, 
 should keep his friendship in constant repair. 
 
 GAMING 
 
 G AMING is a mode of transferring pro- 
 perty without producing any inter- 
 mediate good. Trade gives employment 
 to numbers, and so produces intermediate 
 good. 
 
 GENIUS 
 
 T HOSE who are willing to attribute 
 everything to genius, or natural 
 sagacity, independent of a previous educa- 
 tion, are encouraged to this opinion by 
 laziness or pride, being willing to forego the 
 labour of accurate reading and tedious 
 enquiry, and to satisfy themselves with 
 illustrious examples. 
 
 Life of Dr. Sydenham. 
 
 T RUE genius is a mind of large general 
 powers, accidentally determined to 
 some particular direction. 
 
 Life of C 07 v ley. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 33 
 
 G ENIUS is powerful when invested with 
 the glitter of affluence. Men willingly 
 pay to fortune that regard which they owe 
 to merit, and are pleased when they have an 
 opportunity at once of gratifying their vanity 
 and practising their duty. 
 
 HOEVER is apt to hope good from 
 
 others, is diligent to please them ; but 
 he that believes his powers strong enough to 
 force their own way, commonly tries only to 
 please himself. 
 
 ENIUS now and then produces a lucky 
 
 trifle. We still read the Dove of Ana- 
 creon, and Sparrow of Catullus ; and a writer 
 naturally pleases himself with a performance 
 which owes nothing to the subject. 
 
 GHOSTS 
 
 S IR, I make a distinction between what 
 a man may experience by the mere 
 strength of his imagination and what ima- 
 gination cannot possibty produce. Thus, 
 suppose I should think that I saw a form 
 and heard a voice saj r , ‘Johnson, you are 
 a very wicked fellow, and unless you repent 
 you will certainly be punished ’ ; my own 
 unworthiness is so deeply impressed upon 
 
 Life of Savage. 
 
 Life of Gay. 
 
 Life of Waller. 
 
 C 
 
34 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 my mind, that I might imagine I thus saw 
 and heard, and therefore I should not 
 believe that an external communication had 
 been made to me. But if a form should 
 appear, and a voice should tell me that a 
 particular man had died at a particular 
 place, and a particular hour, — a fact which 
 I had no apprehension of, nor any means of 
 knowing, — and this fact, with all its circum- 
 stances, should afterwards be unquestionably 
 proved, I should in that case be persuaded 
 that I had supernatural intelligence im- 
 parted to me. (See also Apparitions.) 
 
 Boswell's J ohnson. 
 
 GLUTTONY 
 
 G LUTTONY is, I think, less common 
 among women than among men. 
 Women commonly eat more sparingly, and 
 are less curious in the choice of meat ; 
 but if once you find a woman gluttonous, 
 expect from her very little virtue. Her 
 mind is enslaved to the lowest and grossest 
 temptation. 
 
 Piozzi Letters. 
 
 GOOD-HUMOUR 
 
 G OOD-HUMOUR may be defined; a 
 habit of being pleased; a constant 
 and perennial softness of manner, easiness 
 of approach, and suavity of disposition, like 
 that which every one perceives in himself, 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 35 
 
 when the first transports of new felicity have 
 subsided, and his thoughts are only kept in 
 motion by a slow succession of soft impulses. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 G OOD-HUMOUR is a state between 
 gaiety and unconcern; the act of a 
 mind, at leisure, to regard the gratifications 
 of another. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 GOOD-HUMOUR AND GAIETY 
 
 G AIETY is to good-humour as animal 
 perfumes to vegetable fragrance. The 
 one overpowers weak spirits, the other re- 
 creates and revives them. Gaiety seldom 
 fails to give some pain ; the hearers either 
 strain their faculties to accompany its tower - 
 ings, or are left behind in envy or despair. 
 Good-humour boasts no faculties, which 
 every one does not believe in his own power, 
 and pleases principally by not offending. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 GOOD SHOULD BE UNIVERSAL 
 
 A LL skill ought to be exerted for universal 
 good. Every man has owed much to 
 others, and ought to pay the kindness that 
 he has received. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
36 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 GOVERNMENT 
 
 HTO prevent evil is the great end of 
 government, the end for which vigil- 
 ance and severity are properly employed. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 "\T O government could subsist for a day, 
 ^ ^ if single errors could justify defec- 
 tion. 
 
 Taxation no Tyranny. 
 
 G OVERNMENT is necessary to man ; 
 
 and when obedience is not compelled, 
 there is no government. 
 
 Taxation no Tyranny. 
 
 GOVERNMENT, SELF- 
 
 N O man, whose appetites are his masters, 
 can perform the duties of his nature 
 with strictness and regularity. He that 
 would be superior to external influences, 
 must first become superior to his own 
 passions. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 GREATNESS 
 
 H E that becomes acquainted and is 
 invested with authority and in- 
 fluence, will in a short time be convinced 
 that, in proportion as the power of doing 
 well is enlarged, the temptations to do ill 
 are multiplied and enforced. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
JOHNSON S TABLE-TALK 
 
 37 
 
 GRIEF 
 
 A A 7HILE grief is fresh, every attempt to 
 * * divert only irritates. You must wait 
 till grief be digested , and then amusement 
 will dissipate the remains of it. 
 
 GUILT 
 
 G UILT is generally afraid of light ; it 
 considers darkness as a natural shelter, 
 and makes night the confidante of those 
 actions, which cannot be trusted to the tell- 
 tale day. 
 
 O man forgets his original trade ; the 
 
 rights of nations and of kings sink 
 into questions of grammar, if grammarians 
 discuss them. 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 T T seldom happens that all circumstances 
 *■“ concur to happiness or fame. 
 
 R ambler. 
 
 T T APPINESS is not found in self-con- 
 -*■ templation ; it is perceived only 
 when it is reflected from another. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare . 
 
 HABITS 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 Idler. 
 
38 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 A WHATEVER be the cause of happiness 
 * * may be made likewise the cause of 
 misery. The medicine which, rightly 
 applied, has power to cure, has, when rash- 
 ness or ignorance prescribes it, the same 
 power to destroy. 
 
 Dissertation on Authors. 
 
 <r T A HE happiness of the generality of 
 -*• people is nothing if it is not known, 
 and very little if it is not envied. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 'T'HAT man is never happy for the 
 present is so true that all his relief 
 from unhappiness is only forgetting himself 
 for a little while. Life is a progress from 
 want to want, not from enjoyment to en- 
 joyment. 
 
 Boswell’s Johnson 
 
 HP HAT all who are happy are equally 
 ^ happy is not true. A peasant and a 
 philosopher may be equally satisfied, but 
 not equally happy. Happiness consists in 
 the multiplicity of agreeable consciousness. 
 A peasant has not capacity for having equal 
 happiness with a philosopher. 
 
 HELPLESSNESS 
 
 L ET a man give application, and depend 
 upon it, he will soon get above a 
 despicable state of helplessness, and attain 
 the power of acting for himself. 
 
JOHNSON S TABLE-TALK 
 
 39 
 
 HISTORIANS 
 
 RE AT abilities are not requisite for an 
 
 historian ; for in historical composition 
 all the greatest powers of the human mind 
 are quiescent. He has facts ready to his 
 hand ; so there is no exercise of invention. 
 Imagination is not required in any high 
 degree ; only about as 'much as is used in 
 the lower kinds of poetry. Some penetra- 
 tion, accuracy, and colouring will fit a man 
 for the task, if he can give the application 
 which is necessary. 
 
 1 hope there can be no 
 
 T T is seldom that we find either men, or 
 places, such as we expect them. He 
 that has pictured a prospect upon his fancy 
 will receive little jdeasure from his eyes : he 
 that has anticipated the conversation of a 
 wit will wonder to what prejudice he owes 
 his reputation. Yet it is necessary to hope, 
 though hope should always be deluded : for 
 hope itself is happiness ; and its frustrations, 
 however frequent, are yet less dreadful than 
 its extinction. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Idler. 
 
40 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 \ WHATEVER enlarges hope, will like- 
 * V w j se exalt courage. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 IDLENESS 
 
 A S pride is sometimes hid under humility, 
 idleness is often covered by tur- 
 bulence and hurry. He that neglects his 
 own duty, and real employment, naturally 
 endeavours to crowd his mind with some- 
 thing that may bar out the remembrance of 
 his own folly, and does anything but what 
 he ought to do, with eager diligence, that he 
 may keep himself in his own favour. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 N O man is so much open to conviction as 
 the idler ; but there is none on whom 
 it operates so little. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 ' I ''HE drunkard, for a time, laughs over 
 ^ his wine — the ambitious man triumphs 
 
 in the miscarriage of his rival; but the 
 captives of indolence have neither superiority 
 nor merriment. 
 
 Vision of Theodore. 
 
 T DLENESS predominates in many lives 
 where it is not suspected ; for, being a 
 vice which terminates in itself, it may be 
 enjoyed without injury to others, and is 
 therefore not watched like fraud, which 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 4i 
 
 endangers property, or like pride, which 
 naturally seeks its gratifications in another’s 
 inferiority. Idleness is a silent and peaceful 
 quality, that neither raises envy by ostenta- 
 tion, nor hatred by opposition ; and there- 
 fore nobody is busy to censure or detect it. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 IGNORANCE 
 
 G ROSS ignorance every man has found 
 equally dangerous with perverted 
 knowledge. Men left wholly to their 
 appetites and their instincts, with little 
 sense of moral or religious obligation, and 
 with very faint distinctions of right and 
 wrong, can never be safely employed, or 
 confidently trusted. They can be honest 
 only by obstinacj^, and diligent only by 
 compulsion or caprice. Some instruction, 
 therefore, is necessary ; and much, perhaps, 
 may be dangerous. 
 
 Review of the Origin of Evil, 
 
 IGNORANCE AND CONFIDENCE 
 
 T N things difficult there is danger from 
 ignorance ; in things easy, from con- 
 fidence. 
 
 Preface to Dictionary. 
 
 IGNORANCE AND KNOWLEDGE 
 
 ''T'HE expectation of ignorance is inde- 
 finite and that of knowledge often 
 tyrannical. It is hard to satisfy those who 
 
42 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 know not what to demand, or those who 
 demand, by design, what they think impos- 
 sible to be done. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 IMAGINATION 
 
 T T is the great failing of a strong imagina- 
 ^ tion to catch greedily at wonders. 
 
 Memoirs of the King of Prussia. 
 
 A MAN who once resolves upon ideal 
 discoveries, seldom searches long in 
 
 vain. 
 
 Life of Sir Thomas Browne . 
 
 IMITATION 
 
 Hr HE Macedonian conqueror, when he 
 ^ was once invited to hear a man that 
 sung like a nightingale, replied with con- 
 tempt, ‘ That he had heard the nightingale 
 herself ’ : and the same treatment must 
 every man expect, whose praise is that he 
 imitates another. 
 
 Rambler . 
 
 A LMOST all the absurdity of conduct 
 arises from the imitation of those 
 whom we cannot resemble. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 W E are easily flattered by an imitator, 
 when we do not fear ever to be 
 rivalled. 
 
 Ra7iibler , 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 43 
 
 T IMITATIONS produce pain or pleasure, 
 ■*- not because they are mistaken for 
 realities, but because they bring realities to 
 the mind. When the imagination is re- 
 created by a landscape, the trees are not 
 supposed capable to give us shade ; but we 
 consider how we should be pleased with such 
 fountains playing beside us, and such woods 
 waving over us. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 O man was ever great by imitation. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 I T is justly considered as the greatest 
 excellency of art to imitate nature ; but 
 it requires judgment to distinguish those 
 parts of nature which are most proper for 
 imitation. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 IMPOSITION 
 
 T HERE are those who having got the 
 cant of the day , with a superficial 
 readiness of slight and cursory conversation , 
 very often impose themselves as men of 
 understanding, upon wise men. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
44 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 INCIVILITY 
 
 cm, a man has no more right to say an 
 ^ uncivil thing than to act one ; no more 
 right to say a rude thing to another than to 
 knock him down. 
 
 Boswell's Johnson. 
 
 INCONSTANCY 
 
 T NCONSTANCY is in every case a mark 
 of weakness. 
 
 Plan of an English Dictionary. 
 
 INDUSTRY 
 
 T T is below the dignity of a reasonable 
 being to owe that strength to necessity 
 which ought always to act at the call of 
 choice, or to need any other motive to 
 industry than the desire of performing his 
 duty. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 INNOCENCE 
 
 T HERE are some reasoners who fre- 
 quently confound innocence with the 
 mere incapacity of guilt ; but he that never 
 saw, or heard, or thought of, strong liquors, 
 cannot be proposed as a pattern of sobriety. 
 
 Life of Drake. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 45 
 
 INSULT 
 
 A JL WHATEVER be the motive of insult, it 
 * * is always best to overlook it; for 
 folly scarcely can deserve resentment, and 
 malice is punished by neglect. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL LABOUR 
 
 M ANKIND have a great aversion to 
 intellectual labour. But even sup- 
 posing knowledge to be easily attainable, 
 more people would be content to be ignorant 
 than would like even a little trouble to 
 acquire it. 
 
 IRISH AND SCOTCH 
 
 ' I "HE Irish mix better with the English 
 than the Scotch do. Their language 
 is nearer to English ; as a proof of which 
 they succeed very well as players, which 
 Scotchmen do not. Then, sir, they have not 
 that extreme nationality which we find in 
 the Scotch. I will do you, Boswell, the 
 justice to say that you are the most un- 
 scotchified of your countrymen. You are 
 almost the only instance of a Scotchman 
 that I have known who did not at every 
 other sentence bring in some other Scotch- 
 man. 
 
 Boswell's Johnson. 
 
4 6 .Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 IRRESOLUTION 
 
 TT E that knows not whither to go, is in 
 ^ no haste to move. 
 
 Life of Swift. 
 
 JOY 
 
 A S briars have sweetness with their 
 prickles , so are troubles often recom- 
 pensed with joy. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 J UDGMENT is forced upon us by ex- 
 perience. He that reads many books, 
 must compare one opinion, or one style, 
 with another ; and, when he compares, 
 must necessarily distinguish, reject, and 
 prefer. 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
 ' I ''HOSE who have no power to judge of 
 past times, but by their own, should 
 always doubt their conclusions. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 JUSTICE 
 
 /^~ANE of the principal parts of national 
 felicity arises from a wise and im- 
 partial administration of justice. Every 
 man reposes upon the tribunals of his country, 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 47 
 
 the stability of profession and the serenity 
 of life. He therefore who unjustly exposes 
 the courts of judicature to suspicion, either 
 of partiality, or error, not only does an 
 injury to those who dispense the laws, but 
 diminishes the public confidence in the laws 
 themselves and shakes the foundation of 
 public tranquillity. 
 
 Convict's Address. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE 
 
 TV /T AN is not weak ; knowledge is more 
 than equivalent to force. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 O THER things may be seized by might, 
 or purchased with money ; but know- 
 ledge is to be gained only by study, and 
 study to be prosecuted only in retirement. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 '"THE seeds of knowledge ma} T be planted 
 in solitude, but must be cultivated in 
 
 public. 
 
 LANGUAGE 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 T T ANGUAGE] must have come by in- 
 L J— ' spiration. A thousand, nay a million 
 of children could not invent a language. 
 While the organs are pliable there is not 
 understanding enough to form a language ; 
 by the time that there is understanding 
 
48 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 enough the organs are become stiff. We 
 know that after a certain age we cannot 
 learn to pronounce a new language. No 
 foreigner who comes to England when ad- 
 vanced in life ever pronounces English 
 tolerably well ; at least, such instances are 
 very rare. When I maintain that language 
 must have come by inspiration, I do not 
 mean that inspiration is required for rhetoric 
 and all the beauties of language ; for when 
 once man has language we may conceive 
 that he may gradually form modifications of 
 it. I mean only that inspiration seems to 
 me to be necessary to give man the faculty 
 of speech ; to inform him that he may have 
 speech ; which I think he could no more 
 find out without inspiration than cows or 
 hogs would think of such a faculty. 
 
 Boswell's Johnson. 
 
 L ANGUAGE is the dress of thought ; and 
 as the noblest mien, or most graceful 
 action, would be degraded and obscured by 
 a garb appropriated to the gross employ- 
 ments of rustics, or mechanics, so the most 
 heroic sentiments will lose their efficacy, 
 and the most splendid ideas drop their mag- 
 nificence, if they are conveyed by words 
 used commonly upon low and trivial occa- 
 sions, debased by vulgar mouths, and con- 
 taminated by inelegant applications. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 49 
 
 'T^'HE affluence and comprehension of our 
 language is very illustriously displayed 
 in our poetical translations of ancient writers ; 
 a work which the French seem to relinquish 
 in despair, and which we were long unable 
 to perform with dexterity. 
 
 Life of Dry den. 
 
 T ANGUAGE is only the instrument of 
 * science, and words are but the signs 
 of ideas. 
 
 Preface to Dictionary. 
 
 LANGUAGE, ENGLISH 
 
 nr HERE is not, perhaps, one of the liberal 
 ^ arts which may not be completely 
 learned in the English language. 
 
 Preface to Dictionary. 
 
 I T is incident to words, as to their authors, 
 to degenerate from their ancestors, and 
 to change their manners when they change 
 their country. 
 
 LAW, THE 
 
 H^HE law is the last result of human 
 wisdom acting on human experience 
 for the good of the public. 
 
 D 
 
50 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 LAWYERS 
 
 A LAWYER has no business with the jus- 
 tice or injustice of the cause which he 
 undertakes, unless his client asks his opinion, 
 and then he is bound to give it honestly. 
 The justice or injustice of the cause is to be 
 decided by the judge. Consider, sir, what 
 is the purpose of courts of justice. It is 
 that every man may have his cause fairly 
 tried by men appointed to try causes. A 
 lawyer is not to tell what he knows to be a 
 lie ; he is not to produce what he knows to 
 be a false deed ; but he is not to usurp the 
 province of the jury and the judge, and 
 determine what shall be the effect of 
 evidence, what shall be the result of legal 
 argument. As it rarely happens that a 
 man is fit to plead his own cause, lawyers 
 are a class of the community who, by study 
 and experience, have acquired the art and 
 power of arranging evidence, and of applying 
 to the points at issue what the law has 
 settled. A lawyer is to do for his client all 
 that his client might fairly do for himself 
 if he could. If, by a superiority of attention 
 or knowledge, of skill, and a better method 
 of communication, he has the advantage of 
 his adversary, it is an advantage to which 
 he is entitled. There must always be some 
 advantage, on one side or other, and it is 
 better that advantage should be had by 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 51 
 
 talents than chance. If lawyers were to 
 undertake no causes till they were sure they 
 were just, a man might be precluded alto- 
 gether from a trial of his claim, though 
 were it judiciously examined, it might be 
 found a very just claim. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 LEARNING 
 
 T T is not by comparing line with line y that 
 -*■ the merit of great works is to be 
 estimated ; but by their general effects and 
 ultimate result. 
 
 Life of Dry den* 
 
 A A THEN learning was first rising on the 
 * * world, in the fifteenth century, ages 
 so long accustomed to darkness were too 
 much dazzled with its light to see anything 
 distinctly. The first race of scholars, hence, 
 for the most part, were learning to speak 
 rather than to think, and were therefore 
 more studious of elegance than truth. The 
 contemporaries of Boethius thought it suffi- 
 cient to know what the ancients had de- 
 livered ; the examination of tenets and facts 
 was reserved for another generation. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF Western Islands. 
 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY 
 
 AT URiANA CHAMPAION 
 
52 
 
 JOHNSON S TABLE-TALK 
 
 LIBERTY 
 
 A ZEAL, which is often thought, and 
 called liberty, sometimes disguises 
 from the world, and not rarely from the 
 mind which it possesses, an envious desire 
 of plundering wealth, or degrading greatness ; 
 and of which the immediate tendency is 
 innovation and anarchy, or imperious eager- 
 ness to subvert and confound, with very 
 little care what shall be established. 
 
 Life of Akenside. 
 
 I T has been observed, that they who most 
 loudly clamour for liberty , do not most 
 liberally grant it. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 LIFE 
 
 T HE main of life is composed of small 
 incidents and petty occurrences, of 
 wishes for objects not remote, and grief for 
 disappointments of no fatal consequence ; of 
 insect vexations, which sting us and fly 
 away ; and impertinences which buzz a 
 while about us, and are heard no more. 
 Thus a few pains ; and a few pleasures, are 
 all the materials of human life ; and of 
 these the proportions are partly allotted by 
 Providence, and partly left to the arrange- 
 ment of reason and choice. 
 
 Rambler . 
 
JOHNSON S TABLE-TALK 
 
 53 
 
 T IFE may be lengthened by care, though 
 1 * death cannot ultimately be defeated. 
 
 Preface to Dictionary. 
 
 'T''HE great art of life is to play for much, 
 and stake little. 
 
 Dissertation on Authors . 
 
 IFE is not to be. counted by the ignor- 
 
 ance of infancy, or the imbecility of 
 age. We are long before we are able to 
 think, and we soon cease from the power of 
 acting. 
 
 T IFE, however short, is made still shorter 
 ■*— 1 * by waste of time ; and its progress 
 towards happiness, though naturally slow, 
 is yet retarded by unnecessary labour. 
 
 LITERATURE 
 
 ITERATURE is a kind of intellectual 
 
 light, which, like the light of the sun, 
 may sometimes enable us to see what we do 
 not like ; but who would wish to escape 
 unpleasing objects, by condemning himself 
 to perpetual darkness ? 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 Dissertation on Authors. 
 
54 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 LIVING OVER AGAIN 
 
 T^VERY man would lead his life over 
 again ; for every man is willing to go 
 on, and take an addition to his life, which, 
 as he grows older, he has no reason to think 
 will be better, or even so good as what has 
 preceded. 
 
 LOYALTY 
 
 A S a man inebriated only by vapours 
 soon recovers in the open air, a nation 
 discontented to madness, without any 
 adequate cause, will return to its wits and 
 allegiance, when a little pause has cooled 
 it to reflection. 
 
 E should not despise the malice of the 
 
 weakest. We should remember that 
 venom supplies the want of strength ; and 
 that the lion may perish by the puncture of 
 an asp. 
 
 T HE natural discontent of inferiority 
 will seldom fail to operate, in some 
 degree of malice, against him who professes 
 to superintend the conduct of others, especi- 
 
 Bosivell's Johnson. 
 
 False Alarm. 
 
 MALICE 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 55 
 
 ally if he seats himself uncalled in the chair 
 of judicature, and exercises authority by his 
 own commission. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 MAN 
 
 ' I ' HERE is an inequality happens to 
 every man , in every mode of exertion, 
 manual or mental. The mechanic cannot 
 handle his hammer and his file, at all times, 
 with equal dexterity ; there are hours, he 
 knows not why, tvhen his hand is out. 
 
 Life of Milton* 
 
 TV /T AN is seldom willing to let fall the 
 opinion of his own dignity. He is 
 better content to want diligence than 
 power, and sooner confesses the depravity 
 of his will, than the imbecility of his nature. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 MANNERS 
 
 / T > HE manners of a people are not to be 
 found in the schools of learning, or 
 the palaces of greatness, where the national 
 character is obscured, or obliterated by 
 travel, or instruction, by philosophy, or 
 vanity ; nor is public happiness to be esti- 
 mated by the assemblies of the gay, or the 
 banquets of the rich. The great mass of 
 nations is neither rich nor gay. They whose 
 
56 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 aggregate constitutes the people, are found 
 in the streets and the villages ; in the shops 
 and farms ; and from them, collectively 
 considered, must the measure of general 
 prosperity be taken. As they approach to 
 delicacy, a nation is refined ; as their con- 
 veniences are multiplied, a nation, at least 
 a commercial nation, must be denominated 
 wealthy. 
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 T T is not likely that the marriage state is 
 eminently miserable ; since we see such 
 numbers, whom the death of their partners 
 has set free from it, entering it again. 
 
 OST people marry upon mingled 
 
 motives between convenience and 
 
 M ARRIAGE is the best state for man 
 in general ; and every man is a worse 
 man, in proportion as he is unfit for the 
 married state. 
 
 MEMORY 
 
 T HE true art of memory is the art of 
 attention. No man will read with 
 much advantage, who is not able, at pleasure, 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 inclination. 
 
 Life of Sir Thomas Browne. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 57 
 
 to evacuate his mind, and who brings not to 
 his author an intellect defecated and pure ; 
 neither turbid with care, nor agitated with 
 pleasure. If the repositories of thought are 
 already full, what can they receive ? If the 
 mind is employed on the past, or future, the 
 book will be held before the eyes in vain. 
 
 MERIT ALWAYS RECOGNISED 
 
 T NEVER knew a man of merit neglected ; 
 
 it was generally by his own fault that 
 he failed of success. 
 
 METHOD 
 
 A S the end of method is perspicuity, that 
 • l - series is sufficiently regular that 
 avoids obscurity ; and where there is no 
 obscurity, it will not be difficult to discover 
 method. 
 
 N envious and unsocial mind, too proud 
 
 to give pleasure, and too sullen to re- 
 ceive it, always endeavours to hide its 
 malignity from the world and from itself — 
 under the plainness of simple honesty, or 
 the dignity of haughty independence. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Boswell’s Johnson . 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
 MIND 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
58 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 VERY man is obliged, by the Supreme 
 Master of the universe, to improve all 
 the opportunities of good which are afforded 
 him, and to keep in continual activity such 
 abilities as are bestowed upon him. But he 
 has no reason to repine, though his abilities 
 are small, and his opportunities few. He 
 that has improved the virtue, or advanced 
 the happiness of one fellow-creature — he 
 that has ascertained a single moral proposi- 
 tion, or added one useful experiment to 
 natural knowledge — may be contented with 
 his own performance ; and, with respect to 
 mortals like himself, may demand, like 
 Augustus, to be dismissed, at his departure, 
 with applause. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 MIRTH 
 
 M ERRIMENT is always the effect of a 
 sudden impression ; the jest which is 
 expected is already destroyed. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 A NY passion, too strongly agitated, puts 
 an end to that tranquillity which is 
 necessary to mirth. Whatever we ardently 
 wish to gain, we must, in the same degree, 
 be afraid to lose ; and fear and pleasure 
 cannot dwell together. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 59 
 
 T3 EAL mirth must be always natural ; 
 
 and nature is uniform. Men have 
 been wise in different modes, but they have 
 always laughed the same way. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
 'T'HE perverseness of mankind makes it 
 ■*- often mischievous in men of eminence 
 to give way to merriment: The idle and the 
 illiterate will often shelter themselves under 
 what they say in those moments. 
 
 Life of Blackmore. 
 
 MISFORTUNES 
 
 T^\EPEND upon it, that if a man talks 
 of his misfortunes there is something 
 in them that is not disagreeable to him ; for 
 where there is nothing but pure misery, 
 there never is any recourse to the mention 
 of it. 
 
 BostuelVs Johnson. 
 
 MONEY 
 
 HTO mend the world by banishing money 
 is an old contrivance of those who did 
 not consider that the quarrels and mischiefs 
 which arise from money as the sign, or 
 ticket of riches, must, if money were to 
 cease, arise immediately from riches them- 
 selves, and could never be at an end until 
 every man was contented with his own 
 share of the goods of life. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
6o 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 NOVELTY 
 
 E VERY novelty appears more wonderful, 
 as it is more remote from anything 
 with which experience or testimony have 
 hitherto acquainted us; and if it passes 
 further beyond the notions that we have 
 been accustomed to form, it becomes at last 
 incredible. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 / '~T' O oblige the most fertile genius to say 
 only what is new , would be to con- 
 tract his volumes to a few pages. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 NUMBERS 
 
 ' I A O count, is a modern practice : the 
 
 ^ ancient method was, to guess ; and 
 when numbers are guessed, they are always 
 magnified. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 OBLIGATION 
 
 / T^O be obliged is to be in some respect 
 inferior to another, and few willingly 
 indulge the memory of an action which raises 
 one whom they have always been accustomed 
 to think below them, but satisfy themselves 
 with faint praise, and penurious payment, 
 and then drive it from their own minds, 
 and endeavour to conceal it from the know- 
 ledge of others. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
JOHNSON S TABLE-TALK 
 
 6l 
 
 OPINION 
 
 ' I "'HE opinion prevalent in one age, as 
 truths above the reach of controversy, 
 are confuted and rejected in another, and 
 rise again to reception in remoter times. 
 Thus, the human mind is kept in motion 
 without progress. Thus, sometimes, truth 
 and error, and sometime's contrarieties of 
 error, take each other’s place by reciprocal 
 invasion. 
 
 M UCH of the pain and pleasure of man- 
 • kind arises from the conjectures 
 which every one makes of the thoughts of 
 others. We all enjoy praise which we do 
 not hear, and resent contempt which we do 
 not see. 
 
 OPPORTUNITY 
 
 O improve the golden moment of op- 
 
 portunity, and catch the good that is 
 within our reach, is the great art of life. 
 
 T)AIN is less subject than pleasure to 
 caprices of expression. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 Idler . 
 
 PAIN 
 
 Idler. 
 
62 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 PATRIOT 
 
 A PATRIOT is he whose public conduct 
 is regulated by one single motive, viz. 
 the love of his country ; who, as an agent, 
 in parliament, has for himself, neither 
 hope, nor fear ; neither kindness nor resent- 
 ment; but refers everything to the common 
 interest. 
 
 The Patriot. 
 
 PEEVISHNESS 
 
 S UCH is the 
 ness, it can 
 despised. 
 
 consequence of peevish- 
 be borne only when it is 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 T T E that resigns his peace to little 
 A casualties, and suffers the course 
 of his life to be interrupted by fortuitous 
 inadvertencies, or offences, delivers up him- 
 self to the direction of the wind, and loses 
 all that constancy, and equanimity, which 
 constitute the chief praise of a wise man. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 ■pEEYISIINESS is generally the vice of 
 narrow minds, and except when it is 
 the effect of anguish and disease, by which 
 the resolution is broken, and the mind made 
 too feeble to bear the lightest addition to 
 its miseries, proceeds from an unreasonable 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 63 
 
 persuasion of the importance of trifles. 
 The proper remedy against it is, to consider 
 the dignity of human nature, and the folly 
 of suifering perturbation and uneasiness, 
 from causes unworthy of our notice. 
 
 PEOPLE 
 
 \T O people can be great who have ceased 
 -L ^ to be virtuous. 
 
 Political State of Great Britain. 
 
 n^HE prosperity of a people is proportion - 
 ate to the number of hands and minds 
 usefully employed. To the community, 
 sedition is a fever, corruption is a gangrene, 
 and idleness an atrophy. Whatever body, 
 and whatever society wastes more than it 
 requires, must gradually decay ; and every 
 being that continues to be fed, and ceases 
 to labour, takes away something from the 
 public stock. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 PERFECTION 
 
 'T^O pursue perfection in any science, 
 ^ where perfection is unattainable, is 
 like the first inhabitants of Arcadia to chase 
 the sun, which, when they had reached the 
 hill, where he seemed to rest, was still 
 beheld at the same distance from them. 
 
 Life of Waller. 
 
64 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 T T seldom happens that all the necessary 
 causes concur to any great effect. Will 
 is wanting to power, or power to will, or 
 both are impeded by external obstructions. 
 
 PERFIDY 
 
 C OMBINATIONS of wickedness would 
 overwhelm the world, by the advan- 
 tage which licentious principles afford, did 
 not those who have long practised perfidy 
 grow faithless to each other. 
 
 ITY is not natural to man. Children 
 
 are always cruel. Savages are always 
 cruel. Pity is acquired and improved by 
 the cultivation of reason. We may have 
 uneasy sensations from seeing a creature 
 in distress, without pity ; for we have 
 not pity unless we wish to relieve them. 
 When I am on my way to dine with a friend, 
 and, finding it late, bid the coachman make 
 haste, if I happen to attend when he whips 
 his horses, I may feel unpleasantly that 
 the animals are put to pain, but I do not 
 wish him to desist ; no, sir, I wish him to 
 drive on. 
 
 Life of Dry den. 
 
 Life of Waller. 
 
 PITY 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 65 
 
 T)ITY is to many of the unhappy a 
 h source of comfort in hopeless dis- 
 
 tresses, as it contributes to recommend them 
 to themselves, by proving that they have 
 not lost the regard of others; and heaven 
 seems to indicate the duty even of barren 
 compassion, by inclining us to weep for evils 
 which we cannot remedy. 
 
 Rambler . 
 
 PLEASURE 
 
 W HATEVER professes to benefit by 
 pleasing, must please at once. 
 "VVhat is perceived by slow degrees, may 
 gratify us with the consciousness of im- 
 provement, but will never strike us with the 
 sense of pleasure. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
 ' I ' HE merit of pleasing must be estimated 
 by the means. Favour is not always 
 gained by good actions, or laudable qualities. 
 Caresses and preferments are often bestowed 
 on the auxiliaries of vice, the procurers of 
 pleasure, or the flatterers of vanity. 
 
 Life of Dry den. 
 
 T)LEASURE is only received when we 
 believe that we give it in return. 
 
 ^ Rambler. 
 
 E 
 
66 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 T3LEASURE is seldom such as it appears 
 -*■ to others, nor often such as we repre- 
 sent it to ourselves. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 1\ /T EN may be convinced, but they cannot 
 ^ be pleased against their will. But 
 though taste is obstinate, it is very variable, 
 and time often prevails, when arguments 
 have failed. 
 
 Life of Congreve, 
 
 POETS AND POETRY 
 
 T N almost all countries, the most ancient 
 poets are considered as the best. Whether 
 it be that every other kind of knowledge is 
 an acquisition gradually attained, and poetry 
 is a gift conferred at once ; or that the first 
 poetry of every nation surprised them as a 
 novelty, and retained the credit by consent, 
 which it received by accident at first ; or 
 whether, as the province of poetry is to de- 
 scribe nature and passion, which are always 
 the same, the first writers took possession of 
 the most striking objects for description, and 
 the most probable occurrences for fiction, and 
 left nothing to those that followed them, but 
 transcription of the same events, and new 
 combinations of the same images. What- 
 ever be the reason, it is commonly observed, 
 that the early writers are in possession of 
 nature , and their followers of art. 
 
 Rassclas. 
 
OMPOSITIONS, merely pretty, have 
 
 the fate of other pretty things, and 
 are quitted in time for something useful. 
 They are flowers fragrant and fair, but of 
 short duration; or they are blossoms only 
 to be valued as they foretell fruits. 
 
 'T^HOSE who admire the beauties of a 
 -*■ great poet, sometimes force their own 
 judgment into a false approbation of his 
 little pieces, and prevail upon themselves to 
 think that admirable which is only singular. 
 All that short compositions can commonly 
 attain is neatness and elegance. 
 
 POLITENESS 
 
 T30LITENESS is one of those advantages 
 which we never estimate rightly, but 
 by the inconvenience of its loss. Its in- 
 fluence upon the manners is constant and 
 uniform, so that, like an equal motion, it 
 escapes perception. The circumstances of 
 every action are so adjusted to each other, 
 that we do not see where any error could 
 have been committed, and rather acquiesce 
 in its propriety, than admire its exactness. 
 
 Life of Waiter. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 R ambler . 
 
68 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 HE true effect of genuine politeness 
 
 seems to be rather ease , than pleasure. 
 The power of delighting must be conferred 
 by nature, and cannot be delivered by pre- 
 cept, or obtained by imitation ; but though 
 it be the privilege of a very small number 
 to ravish and to charm, every man may 
 hope, by rules and caution, not to give pain, 
 and may, therefore, by the help of good- 
 breeding, enjoy the kindness of mankind, 
 though he should have no claim to higher 
 distinctions. 
 
 OLITENESS is fictitious benevolence. 
 
 It supplies the place of it among those 
 who see each other only in public, or but 
 little. Depend upon it, the want of it never 
 fails to produce something disagreeable to 
 one or other. I have always applied to good- 
 breeding what Addison in his Cato says 
 of honour : — 
 
 ‘ Honour ’s a sacred tie : the law of kings ; 
 
 The noble mind’s distinguishing perfection ; 
 
 That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets 
 her, 
 
 And imitates her actions where she is not.’ 
 
 \ \ fHEN the pale of ceremony is once 
 » ’ broken, rudeness and insult soon 
 enter the breach. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 69 
 
 POLITICS 
 
 T30LITICAL truth is equally in danger 
 
 from the praises of courtiers, and the 
 exclamation of patriots. 
 
 HE poor are insensible of many little 
 
 vexations which sometimes imbitter 
 the possessions, and pollute the enjoyments 
 of the rich. They are not pained by casual 
 incivility, or mortified by the mutilation of 
 a compliment : but this happiness is like 
 that of a malefactor, who ceases to feel the 
 cords that bind him when the pincers are 
 tearing his flesh. 
 
 O OME men are poor by their own faults : 
 ^ some by the fault of others. 
 
 Life of Roger A s chain. 
 
 1\ yT ANY men are made the poorer by 
 opulence. 
 
 Life of Sir Thomas Browne. 
 
 OVERTY has, in large cities, very 
 
 different appearances. It is often con- 
 cealed in splendour, and often in extrava- 
 gance. It is the care of a very great part 
 of mankind to conceal their indigence from 
 
 Life of Waller. 
 
 POVERTY 
 
 Review of the Origin of Evil. 
 
70 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 the rest. They support themselves by 
 temporary expedients, and every day is lost 
 in contriving for to-morrow. 
 
 POVERTY AND IDLENESS 
 
 / 'T A 0 be idle and to be poor have always 
 
 been reproaches, and therefore every 
 man endeavours, with his utmost care, to 
 hide his poverty from others, and his idleness 
 from himself. 
 
 RAISE, like gold and diamonds, owes 
 
 its value only to its scarcity. It be- 
 comes cheap as it becomes vulgar, and will 
 no longer raise expectation, or animate 
 enterprise. It is, therefore, not only neces- 
 sary that wickedness, even when it is not 
 safe to censure it, be denied applause, but 
 that goodness be commended only in pro- 
 portion to its degree ; and that the garlands 
 due to the great benefactors of mankind, be 
 not suffered to fade upon the brow of him, 
 who can boast only petty services and easy 
 virtues. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 PRAISE 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 7 1 
 
 PRECIPITANCY 
 
 T T E that too early aspires to honours 
 ^ -*• must resolve to encounter, not only 
 the opposition of interest, but the malignity 
 of envy. He that is too eager to be rich, 
 generally endangers his fortune in wild 
 adventures and uncertain projects ; and he 
 that hastens too speedily to reputation, often 
 raises his character by artifices and fallacies, 
 decks himself in colours which quickly fade, 
 or in plumes which accident may shake off, 
 or competition pluck away. 
 
 PREJUDICE 
 
 TO be prejudiced is always to be weak, 
 
 yet there are prejudices so near to 
 being laudable, that they have been often 
 praised, and are always pardoned. 
 
 MALL things make mean men proud. 
 
 T3RIDE is a vice, which pride itself inclines 
 every man to find in others, and to 
 overlook in himself. 
 
 Life of Sir Thomas Brozvne. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Taxation no Tyranny. 
 
 PRIDE 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
72 Johnson’s tab.l e-talk 
 PR IDE AND ENVY 
 
 pREDE i s seldom delicate, it will please 
 ^ itself with very mean advantages ; and 
 envy feels not its own happiness, but when 
 it may be compared with the misery of 
 others. 
 
 R ass e las. 
 
 PROPRIETY 
 
 'P' HE polite are always catching at modish 
 innovations, and the learned depart 
 from established forms of speech, in hopes 
 of finding or making better. But propriety 
 resides in that kind of conversation which is 
 above grossness and below refinement. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 PROSPERITY 
 
 T3ROSPERITY, as is truly asserted by 
 Seneca, very much obstructs the know- 
 ledge of ourselves. No man can form a just 
 estimate of his own powers, by inactive 
 speculation. That fortitude which has 
 encountered no dangers, that prudence 
 which has surmounted no difficulties, that 
 integrity which has been attacked by no 
 temptations, can at best be considered but 
 as gold, not yet brought to the test, of which 
 therefore the true value cannot be assigned. 
 Equally necessary is some variety of fortune 
 to a nearer inspection of the manners, prin- 
 ciples and affections of mankind. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 73 
 PROVIDENCE 
 
 T F the extent of the human view could 
 comprehend the whole frame of the 
 universe, perhaps it would be found invari- 
 ably true, that Providence has given that in 
 greatest plenty, which the condition of life 
 makes of greatest use ; and that nothing is 
 penuriously imparted, or placed far from 
 the reach of men, of which a more liberal 
 distribution, or more easy acquisition, would 
 increase real and rational felicity. 
 
 PRUDENCE 
 
 'DRUDENCE operates on life in the same 
 manner as rules on composition ; it 
 produces vigilance rather than elevation, 
 rather prevents loss than procures advan- 
 tage, and often escapes miscarriages, but 
 seldom reaches either power or honour. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 PRUDENCE AND JUSTICE 
 
 A RISTOTLE is praised for naming forti- 
 ^ tude, first of the cardinal virtues, as 
 that without which no other virtue can 
 steadily be practised ; but he might, with 
 equal propriety, have placed prudence and 
 justice before it ; since without prudence 
 fortitude is mad, without justice it is mis- 
 chievous. 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
74 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 RAILLERY 
 
 T T E who is in the exercise of Raillery 
 should prepare himself to receeive it 
 in turn. When Lewis the xiy. was asked 
 why with so much wit he never attempted 
 Raillery, he answered, that he who practised 
 Raillery ought to bear it in his turn, and that 
 to stand the butt of Raillery was not suitable 
 to the dignity of a king. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 READING 
 
 T T is strange that there should be so little 
 reading in the world, and so much 
 writing. People in general do not willingly 
 read if they can have anything else to amuse 
 them. There must be an external impulse, 
 emulation, or vanity, or avarice. The pro- 
 gress which the understanding makes through 
 a book has more pain than pleasure in it. 
 Language is scanty and inadequate to ex- 
 press the nice gradations and mixtures of 
 our feelings. No man reads a book of 
 science from pure inclination. The books 
 that we do read with pleasure are light 
 compositions, which contain a quick suc- 
 cession of events. 
 
 I DLENESS is a disease which must be 
 combated ; but I would not advise a 
 rigid adherence to a particular plan of study. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 75 
 
 I myself have never persisted in any plan 
 for two days together. A man ought to read 
 just as inclination leads him ; for what he 
 reads as a task will do him little good. A 
 young man should read five hours in the 
 day, and so may acquire a great deal of 
 knowledge. 
 
 REASON AND FANCY 
 
 TO EASON is like the sun, of which the 
 light is constant, uniform and lasting. 
 Fancy, a meteor of bright but transitory 
 lustre, irregular in its motion, and delusive 
 in its direction. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 REBELLION 
 
 T O bring misery on those who have not 
 deserved it, is part of the aggregated 
 guilt of rebellion. 
 
 Taxation no Tyranny. 
 
 N OTHING can be more noxious to- 
 society than that erroneous clemency, 
 which, when a rebellion is suppressed, 
 exacts no forfeiture, and establishes no- 
 securities, but leaves the rebels in their 
 former state. 
 
 Taxation no Tyranny. 
 
RELIGION 
 
 O be of no church, is dangerous. Re- 
 
 ligion, of which the rewards are 
 distant, and which is animated only by 
 faith and hope, will glide by degrees out of 
 the mind, unless it be invigorated, and re- 
 impressed by external ordinances, by stated 
 calls to worship, and the salutary influence 
 of example. 
 
 / T'HE great talk of him who conducts his 
 life by the precepts of religion , is to 
 make the future predominate over the 
 present, to impress Upon his mind so strong 
 a sense of the importance of obedience to 
 the divine will, of the value of the reward 
 promised to virtue, and the terrors of the 
 punishment denounced against crimes, as 
 may overbear all the temptations which 
 temporal hope, or fear, can bring in his wajq 
 and enable him to bid equal defiance to joy 
 and sorrow, to turn away at one time from 
 the allurements of ambition, and push 
 forward at another against the threats of 
 calamity. 
 
 'PHILOSOPHY may infuse stubbornness, 
 but Religion only can give patience. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 77 
 
 TV /T ALEYOLENCE to the clergy is seldom 
 ^ ^ at a great distance from irreverence 
 to Religion. 
 
 Life of Dry den. 
 
 REPROOF 
 
 T3 EPROOF should not exhaust its power 
 upon petty failings ; let it watch 
 diligently against the incursion of vice, and 
 leave foppery and futility to die of them- 
 selves. 
 
 Idler. . 
 
 RESOLUTION 
 
 W HEN desperate ills demand a speedy 
 cure, distrust is cowardice and pru- 
 dence folly. 
 
 I rene. 
 
 R ESOLUTION and success reciprocally 
 produce each other. 
 
 Life of Drake. 
 
 "TV /T OST men may review all the lives 
 ^ ^ that have passed within their obser- 
 vation, without remembering one efficacious 
 resolution, or being able to tell a single 
 instance of a course of practice suddenly 
 changed, in consequence of a change of 
 opinion, or an establishment of determina- 
 tion. Many, indeed, alter their conduct, 
 and are not at fifty what they were at 
 thirty ; but they commonly varied imper- 
 ceptibly from themselves, followed the train 
 
78 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 of external causes, and rather suffered refor- 
 mation than made it. 
 
 Idler . 
 
 RESPECT 
 
 T} ESPECT is often paid in proportion 
 ^ as it is claimed. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 RETALIATION 
 
 I T is too common for those who have un- 
 justly suffered pain, to inflict it likewise 
 in their turn with the same injustice, and to 
 imagine they have a right to treat others as 
 they themselves have been treated. 
 
 Life of Savage. 
 
 RETIREMENT 
 
 S OME suspension of common affairs, some 
 pause of temporal pain and pleasure, 
 is doubtless necessary to him that deliberates 
 for eternity, who is forming the only plan 
 in which miscarriage cannot be repaired, 
 and examining the only question in which 
 mistake cannot be rectified. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 RETROSPECTION 
 
 / ^T V HERE are few higher gratifications 
 than thatr of reflection on surmounted 
 evils, when they were not incurred nor pro- 
 tracted by our fault, and neither reproach 
 us with cowardice nor guilt. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 79 
 
 A LL useless misery is certainly folly, 
 and he that feels evils before they 
 come, may be deservedly censured ; yet 
 surely to dread the future, is more reason- 
 able than to lament the past. The business 
 of life is to go forward ; he who sees evils in 
 prospect, meets it in his way ; but he who 
 catches it by retrospection, turns back to 
 find it. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 r | ''HERE is certainly no greater happiness 
 than to be able to look back on a life 
 usefully and virtuously employed ; to trace 
 our own progress in existence, by such tokens 
 as excite neither shame nor sorrow. It ought 
 therefore to be the care of those who wish 
 to pass the last hours with comfort, to lay 
 up such a treasure of pleasing ideas, as shall 
 support the expenses of that time, which is 
 to depend wholly upon the fund already 
 acquired. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 TV/T ARSHAL TURENNE, among the ac- 
 ^ knowledgments which he used to pay 
 in conversation to the memory of those by 
 whom he had been instructed in the art of 
 war, mentioned one, with honour, who 
 taught him not to spend his time in regret- 
 ting any mistake which he had made , but to 
 
80 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 set himself immediately and vigorously to 
 repair it. — Patience and submission should 
 be carefully distinguished from cowardice 
 and indolence ; we are not to repine, but we 
 may lawfully struggle; for the calamities 
 of life, like the necessities of nature, are 
 calls to labour, and exercises of diligence. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 REVENGE 
 
 Tf ORBEARANCE of revenge, when re- 
 venge is within reach, is scarcely ever 
 to be found among princes. 
 
 Memoirs of the King of Prussia. 
 
 RHYME 
 
 TA HYME, says Milton, and says truly, is 
 no necessary adjunct of true poetry. 
 But, perhaps, of poetry, as a mental opera- 
 tion, metre or music is no necessary adjunct ; 
 it is, however, by the music of metre that 
 poetry has been discriminated in all lan- 
 guages ; and in languages melodiously con- 
 structed, by a due proportion of long and 
 short syllables, metre is sufficient. But one 
 language cannot communicate its rules to 
 another. Where metre is scanty and im- 
 perfect, some help is necessary. The music 
 of the English heroic line strikes the ear so 
 faintly, that it is easily lost, unless all the 
 syllables of every line co-operate together. 
 
JOHNSON S TABLE-TALK 
 
 8l 
 
 This co-operation can be only obtained by the 
 preservation of every verse, unmingled with 
 another, as a distinct system of sounds ; and 
 this distinctness is obtained, and preserved, 
 by the artifice of rhyme. 
 
 O attempt any further improvement of 
 
 versification , beyond what Pope has 
 given us in his translation of Homer’s Iliad , 
 will be dangerous. Art and diligence have 
 now done their best ; and what shall be 
 added, will be the effort of tedious toil, and 
 needless curiosity. 
 
 EALTH is nothing in itself ; it is not 
 
 useful but when it departs from us : 
 its value is found only in that which it can 
 purchase, which, if we suppose it put to its 
 best use, seems not much to deserve the 
 desire, or envy, of a wise man. It is certain 
 that, with regard to corporal enjoyment, 
 money can neither open new avenues to 
 pleasure, nor block up the passages of an- 
 guish. Disease and infirmity still continue 
 to torture and enfeeble, perhaps exasperated 
 by luxury, or promoted by softness. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
 RICHES 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 F 
 
82 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 HP HOUGH riches often prompt extrava- 
 gant hopes and fallacious appearances, 
 there are purposes to which a wise man may 
 be delighted to apply them. They may, by 
 a rational distribution to those who want 
 them, ease the pains of helpless disease, 
 still the throbs of restless anxiety, relieve 
 innocence from oppression, and raise im- 
 becility to cheerfulness and vigour. This 
 they will enable a man to perform ; and this 
 will afford the only happiness ordained for 
 our present state, the consequence of divine 
 favour, and the hope of future rewards. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 I T is observed of gold by an old epigram- 
 matist, ‘ that to have it, is to be in fear, 
 and to want it, to be in sorrow.’ 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 E VERY man is rich or poor, according to 
 the proportion between his desires and 
 enjoj^ments. Any enlargement of riches is 
 therefore equally destructive to happiness 
 with the diminution of possession ; and he 
 that teaches another to long for what he 
 shall never obtain, is no less an enemy to 
 his quiet, than if he had robbed him of part 
 of his patrimony. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 83 
 
 RICHES AND UNDERSTANDING 
 
 A S many more can discover that a man 
 is richer than themselves, superiority 
 of understanding is not so readily acknow- 
 ledged as that of fortune ; nor is that 
 haughtiness, which the consciousness of 
 great abilities incites, borne with the same 
 submission as the tyranny of affluence. 
 
 SATIRE 
 
 T3ERSONAL resentment, though no laud- 
 able motive to satire, can add great force 
 to general principles. Self-love is a busy 
 prompter. 
 
 A LL truth is valuable, and satirical criti- 
 cism may be considered as useful, 
 when it rectifies error, and improves judg- 
 ment. He that refines the public taste is a 
 public benefactor. 
 
 HE whole doctrine, as well as the 
 
 practice of secrecy is so perplexing 
 and dangerous, that next to him who is com- 
 pelled to trust, that man is unhappy who 
 is chosen to be trusted ; for he is often 
 involved in scruples, without the liberty of 
 calling in the help of any other under- 
 
 Life of Savage. 
 
 Life of Dry den. 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
 SECRECY 
 
84 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 standing ; he is frequently drawn into guilt, 
 under the appearance of friendship and 
 honesty ; and sometimes subjected to sus- 
 picion, by the treachery of others, who are 
 engaged without his knowledge in the same 
 schemes : for he that has one confidant, has 
 generally more ; and when he is, at last, 
 betrayed, is in doubt on whom he shall fix 
 the crime. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 T HE rules that may be proposed concern- 
 ing secrecy, and which it is not safe 
 to deviate from, without long and exact 
 deliberation, are, 
 
 First, Never to solicit the knowledge of a 
 secret — nor willingly , nor without many 
 limitations , accept such confidence, when it 
 is offered. 
 
 Second, when a secret is once admitted, 
 to consider the trust as of a very high 
 nature, important as society — and sacred as 
 truth — and therefore not to be violated for 
 any incidental convenience , or slight appear- 
 ance of contrary fitness. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 SECRETS 
 
 S ECRETS are so seldom kept, that it may 
 be with some reason doubted, whether 
 a secret has not some subtle volatility by 
 which it escapes, imperceptibly, at the 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 85 
 
 smallest vent, or some power of fermenta- 
 tion, by which it expands itself, so as to 
 burst the heart that will not give it way. 
 
 O tell our own secrets is generally folly, 
 
 but that folly is without guilt. To 
 communicate those with which we are in- 
 trusted, is always treachery, and treachery 
 for the most part combined with folly. 
 
 SEDUCTION 
 
 ' I 'HERE is not perhaps, in all the stores 
 of ideal anguish, a thought more 
 painful, than the consciousness of having 
 propagated corruption by vitiating prin- 
 ciples ; of having not only drawn others 
 from the paths of virtue, but blocked up the 
 way by which they should return ; of having 
 blinded them to every beauty, but the paint 
 of pleasure ; and deafened them to every 
 call, but the alluring voice of the sirens of 
 destruction. 
 
 SENSE, GOOD- 
 
 G OOD-SENSE is a sedate and quiescent 
 quality, which manages its possessions 
 well, but does not increase them ; it collects 
 few materials for its own operations, and 
 preserves safety, but never gains supremacy. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Life of Pope. 
 
86 
 
 jotinson’s table-talk 
 
 SHAME 
 
 QHAME, above any other passion, pro- 
 pagates itself. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 T T is, perhaps, kindly provided by nature, 
 that as the feathers and strength of a 
 bird grow together, and her wings are not 
 completed till she is able to fly ; so some 
 proportion should be observed in the human 
 mind, between judgment and courage. The 
 precipitation of experience is therefore re- 
 strained by shame , and we remain shackled 
 by timidity, till we have learned to speak 
 and act with propriety. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 S HAME operates most strongly in our 
 earliest years. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 SINGULARITY 
 
 S INGULARITY, as it implies a contempt 
 of general practice, is a kind of 
 defiance, which justly provokes the hostility 
 of ridicule. He therefore who indulges 
 peculiar habits, is worse than others, if he 
 be not better. 
 
 Life of Swift. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 87 
 
 SOLITUDE 
 
 I N solitude, if we escape the example of 
 bad men, we likewise want the counsel 
 and conversation of the good. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 T HE life of a solitary man will be 
 certainly miserable, but not certainly 
 devout. 
 
 Rasselas. 
 
 STUDY 
 
 A S in life, so in study, it is dangerous to 
 do more things than one at a time ; 
 and the mind is not to be harassed with 
 unnecessary obstructions, in a way of which 
 the natural and unavoidable asperity is such, 
 as too frequently produces despair. 
 
 Preface to the Preceptor. 
 
 STYLE 
 
 TT^EW faults of style, whether real or 
 -*■ imaginary, excite the malignity of a 
 more numerous class of readers, than the 
 use of hard words. But words are only 
 hard to those who do not understand them ; 
 and the critic ought always to inquire, 
 whether he is incommoded by the fault of 
 the writer, or by his own. 
 
 Idler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 TZJ'VERY language of a learned nation 
 necessarily divides itself into diction 
 scholastic and popular, grave and familiar, 
 elegant and gross ; and, from a nice distinc- 
 tion of these different parts, arises a great 
 part of the beauties of style. 
 
 Life of Dry den. 
 
 SUBLIMITY 
 
 S UBLIMITY is produced by aggrega- 
 tion, and littleness by dispersion. 
 Great thoughts are always general, and 
 consist in positions not limited by excep- 
 tions, and in descriptions not descending to 
 minuteness. 
 
 Life of C gw ley. 
 
 SUBORDINATION 
 
 TT E that encroaches on another’s dignity, 
 ^ puts himself in his power ; he is 
 either repelled with helpless indignity, or 
 endured by clemency and condescension. A 
 great mind disdains to hold anything by 
 courtesy, and therefore never usurps what a 
 lawful claimant may take away. 
 
 Life of Sw:ft. 
 
 SUSPICION 
 
 S USPICION is no less an enemy to virtue, 
 than to happiness. He that is already 
 corrupt, is naturally suspicious ; and he that 
 becomes suspicious, will quickly be corrupt. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 89 
 
 T T E that suffers by imposture has too 
 * often his virtue more impaired than 
 his fortune. But as it is necessary not to 
 invite robbery by supineness, so it is our 
 duty not to suppress tenderness by suspicion. 
 It is better to suffer wrong, than to do it ; 
 and happier to be sometimes cheated, than 
 not to trust. 
 
 Rambler . 
 
 T T E who is spontaneously suspicious, 
 ^ may be justly charged with radical 
 corruption ; for if he has not known the 
 prevalence of dishonesty by information, 
 nor had time to observe it with his own 
 eyes, whence can he take his measures of 
 judgment but from himself ? 
 
 Rambler . 
 
 TEMPTATION 
 
 T T is a common plea of wickedness to call 
 temptation destiny. 
 
 Notes tip on Shakespeare. 
 
 TIME 
 
 HPIME, amongst other injuries, diminishes 
 the power of pleasing. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
9 o 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 * I 'I ME ought, above all other kinds of 
 property, to be free from invasion ; 
 and yet there is no man who does not claim 
 the power of wasting that time which is the 
 right of others. 
 
 T IFE is continually ravaged by invaders ; 
 
 ' one steals away an hour, and another 
 a day ; one conceals the robbery by hurrying 
 us into business, another by lulling us with 
 amusement ; the depredation is continued 
 through a thousand vicissitudes of tumult 
 and tranquillity, till, having lost all, we 
 can lose no more. 
 
 O put every man in possession of his 
 
 own time, and rescue the day from 
 a succession of usurpers, is beyond hope ; 
 yet, perhaps, some stop might be put to 
 this unmerciful persecution, if all would 
 seriously reflect, that whoever pays a visit 
 that is not desired, or talks longer than the 
 hearer is willing to attend, is guilty of an 
 •injury which he cannot repair, and takes 
 away that which he cannot give. 
 
 IME, with all its celerity, moves slowly 
 
 to him whose whole employment is 
 to watch its flight. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 Idler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 ' I A IME is, of all modes of existence, most 
 obsequious to the imagination. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
 T T E that runs against time has an ant- 
 
 ^ ^ agonist not subject to casualties. 
 
 Life of Pope . 
 
 ' I 'IME, like money, may be lost by un- 
 seasonable avarice. 
 
 Life of Bu?-v i an. 
 
 ' I ' IME is the inflexible enemy of all false 
 hypotheses. 
 
 Treatise on the Longitude. 
 
 TRAGEDY 
 
 HE reflection that strikes the heart at a 
 
 tragedy, is not that the evils before 
 us are real evils, but that they are evils to 
 which we ourselves may be exposed. If 
 there be any fallacy, it is not that we fancy 
 the players, but that we fancy ourselves, 
 unhappy for a moment ; but we rather 
 lament the possibility than suppose the 
 presence of misery ; as a mother weeps over 
 her babe, when she remembers that death 
 may take it from her. In short, the delight 
 of tragedy proceeds from our consciousness 
 of fiction ; if we thought murders and 
 treasons real, they would please no more. 
 
 Preface to Shakespeare. 
 
92 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 TRAVELLING 
 
 I T is by studying at home that we must 
 obtain the ability of travelling with 
 intelligence and improvement. 
 
 Life of Gray. 
 
 LL travel has its advantages : if the 
 
 passenger visits better countries, he 
 may learn to improve his own ; and if for- 
 tune carries him to worse, he may learn to 
 enjoy it. 
 
 TRUTH 
 
 '^'T'RUTH has no gradations; nothing 
 which admits of increase can be so 
 much what it is — as truth is truth. There 
 may be a strange thing, and a thing more 
 strange. But if a proposition be true , there 
 can be none more true. 
 
 i\/r ALICE often bears down truth. 
 
 T RUTH, like beauty, varies its fashions, 
 and is best recommended by different 
 dresses, to different minds. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 Idler. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 93 
 
 'T^'HERE is no crime more infamous than 
 the violation of truth ; it is apparent 
 that men can be sociable beings no longer 
 than they can believe each other. When 
 speech is employed only as the vehicle of 
 falsehood, every man must disunite himself 
 from others, inhabit his own cave, and seek 
 prey only for himself. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 UNDERSTANDING 
 
 A S the mind must govern the hands, so in 
 every society the man of intelligence 
 must direct the man of labour. 
 
 Western Islands. 
 
 UNIVERSALITY 
 
 A 1 THAT is fit for everything, can fit 
 * * nothing well. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
 VANITY 
 
 Hr HE greatest human virtue bears no 
 proportion to human vanity. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 VAUNTING 
 
 T ARGE offers, and sturdy rejections, are 
 ' ' among the most common topics of 
 falsehood. 
 
 Life of Milton. 
 
94 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 VICE 
 
 Y 7ICES, like diseases, are often hereditary. 
 
 * The property of the one is to infect 
 the manners, as the other poisons the 
 springs of life. 
 
 Idler . 
 
 VIRTUE 
 
 T T E who desires no virtue in his com- 
 -1- ^ panion, has no virtue in himself. 
 Hence, when the wealthy and the dissolute 
 connect themselves with indigent com- 
 panions, for their power of entertainment, 
 their friendship amounts to little more than 
 paying the reckoning for them. They only 
 desire to drink and laugh ; their fondness is 
 without benevolence, and their familiarity 
 without friendship. 
 
 Life of Otway. 
 
 "|\ /T ANY men mistake the love for the 
 4VA practice of virtue, and are not so 
 much good men, as the friends of goodness. 
 
 Life of Savage. 
 
 V IRTUE is undoubtedly most laudable 
 in that state which makes it most 
 difficult. 
 
 Life of Savage. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 95 
 
 A VIRTUE is the surest foundation both of 
 * reputation and fortune, and the first 
 step to greatness is to be honest. 
 
 Life of Drake. 
 
 I N the bottle, discontent seeks for comfort, 
 cowardice for courage, and bashfulness 
 for confidence ; but who ever asked succour 
 from Bacchus, that was able to preserve him- 
 self from being enslaved by his auxiliary ? 
 
 WISDOM 
 
 '^T'HE two powers which, in the opinion 
 of Epictetus, constitute a wise man , 
 are those of bearing and forbearing. 
 
 Life of Savage. 
 
 A A 7TSDOM comprehends at once the end 
 * * and the means, estimates easiness or 
 difficulty, and is cautious or confident in due 
 proportion. 
 
 IT is that which is at once natural and 
 
 new, and which, though not obvious, 
 is, upon its first production, acknowledged 
 to be just. 
 
 WINE 
 
 Life of Addison. 
 
 Idler. 
 
 WIT 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
g6 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 W IT will never make a man rich, but 
 there are nlaces where riches will 
 
 IT, like every other power, has its 
 
 boundaries. Its success depends on 
 the aptitude of others to receive impressions ; 
 and that as some bodies, indissoluble by heat, 
 can set the furnace and crucible at defiance, 
 there are minds upon which the rays of 
 fancy may be pointed without effect, and 
 which no fire of sentiment can agitate, or 
 
 TT is a calamity incident to grey-haired 
 wit , that his merriment is unfashion- 
 able. His allusions are forgotten facts, his 
 illustrations are drawn from notions obscured 
 by time, his wit therefore may be called 
 single, such as none has any part in but 
 himself. 
 
 W IT, like all other things subject by 
 their nature to the choice of man, 
 has its changes and fashions, and at different 
 times takes different forms. 
 
 exalt. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
Johnson’s. table-talk 97 
 
 ' I ' HE pride of wit and knowledge is often 
 mortified, by finding that they confer 
 no security against the common errors which 
 mislead the weakest and meanest of man- 
 kind. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 I T is common to find men break out into 
 a rage at any insinuations to the dis- 
 advantage of their wit , who have borne with 
 great patience reflections on their morals. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 A 1 7TT being an unexpected copulation of 
 ^ * ideas, the discovery of some occult 
 relation between images in appearance re- 
 mote from each other ; an effusion of wit, 
 therefore, presupposes an accumulation of 
 knowledge ; a memory stored with notions, 
 which the imagination may cull out to com- 
 pose new assemblages. Whatever may be 
 the native vigour of the mind, she can never 
 form many combinations from few ideas ; 
 as many changes can never be rung upon 
 a few bells. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 \T OTHING was ever said with uncommon 
 ^ felicity, but by the co-operation of 
 chance ; and therefore wit , as well as valour, 
 must be content to share its honours with 
 fortune. 
 
 Idler. 
 
WOMEN 
 
 W OMEN are always most observed, 
 when they seem themselves least 
 to observe, or to lay out for observation. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 T T is observed, that the unvaried com- 
 plaisance which women have a right of 
 exacting, 'keeps them generally unskilled in 
 human nature. 
 
 T T is said of a woman who accepts a worse 
 match than those which she had refused, 
 that she has passed through the ivood, and 
 at last has taken a crooked stick. 
 
 OTHINGr is more common than for the 
 
 younger part of the sex, upon certain 
 occasions, to say in a pet what they do not 
 think, or to think for a time on what they 
 do not finally resolve. 
 
 T T may be particularly observed, of women, 
 that they are for the most part good or 
 bad, as they fall among those who practise 
 vice or virtue ; and that neither education 
 nor reason gives them much security against 
 the influence of example. Whether it be, 
 that they have less courage to stand against 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 99 
 
 opposition, or that tlieir desire of admiration 
 makes them sacrifice their principles to the 
 poor pleasure of worthless praise, it is 
 certain, whatever be the cause, that female 
 goodness seldom keeps its ground against 
 laughter, flattery, or fashion. 
 
 F women it has been always known, 
 
 that no censure wounds so deeply, or 
 rankles so long, as that which charges them 
 with want of beauty. 
 
 rORDS being arbitrary, must owe 
 
 their power to association, and have 
 the influence, and that only, which custom 
 has given them. 
 
 ORDS too familiar, or too remote, 
 
 defeat the purpose of a poet. From 
 these sounds, which we hear on small, or 
 coarse occasions, we do not easily receive 
 strong impressions, or delightful images ; 
 and words to which we are nearly strangers, 
 whenever they occur, draw that attention 
 on themselves , which they should convey to 
 things. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 WORDS 
 
 Life of Cowley. 
 
 Life of Dry den. 
 
IOO 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 WRONG 
 
 'T^HE power of doing wrong with im- 
 punity seldom waits long for the 
 
 will. 
 
 Observations on the State of Affairs. 
 
 M EN are wrong for want of sense, but 
 they are wrong by halves for want 
 of spirit. 
 
 Taxation no Tyrrany. 
 
 WRONGS 
 
 M EN easily forgive Wrongs which are 
 not committed against themselves. 
 
 Notes tip on Shakespeare. 
 
 YOUTH 
 
 "\7 OUTH is the time in which the qualities 
 -*■ of modesty and enterprise ought chiefly 
 to be found. Modesty suits well with in- 
 experience, and enterprise with health and 
 vigour, and an extensive prospect of life. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 Y OUTH is the time of enterprise and 
 hope : having yet no occasion for 
 
 comparing our force with any opposing 
 power, we naturally form presumptions in 
 our own favour, and imagine that obstruction 
 and impediment will give way before us. 
 
 Rambler . 
 
Johnson’s table-talk ioi 
 YOUTH AND AGE 
 
 A 1 THEN we are young we busy ourselves 
 ^ * in forming schemes for succeeding 
 time, and miss the gratifications that are 
 before us ; when we are old we amuse the 
 languor of age with the recollection of 
 youthful pleasures or performances ; so that 
 our life, of which no part is filled with the 
 business of the present time, resembles our 
 dreams after dinner, when the events of the 
 morning are mingled with the designs of the 
 evening. 
 
 Notes upon Shakespeare. 
 
 I N youth it is common to measure right 
 and wrong by the opinion of the world, 
 and in age to act without any measure but 
 interest, and to lose shame without sub- 
 stituting virtue. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
 '~T'HE notions of the old and young are 
 like liquors of different gravity and 
 texture, which never can unite. 
 
 Rambler. 
 
PART II 
 
 ANECDOTES 
 

PART II 
 
 ANECDOTES 
 
 ?R. JOHNSON said to Boswell 
 
 D l one morning when they were 
 II at Birmingham, ‘ You will see, 
 sir, at Mr. Hector’s, his sister, 
 Mrs. Careless, a clergyman’s 
 widow. She was the first woman with whom 
 I was in love. It dropped out of my head 
 imperceptibly ; but she and I shall always 
 have a kindness for each other.’ He laughed 
 at the notion that a man can never really be 
 in love but once, and considered it as a mere 
 romantic fancy. 
 
 T T E once in his life was known himself to 
 have uttered what is called a bull. 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds, when they were riding 
 together in Devonshire, complained that he 
 had a very bad horse, for that even when 
 going down hill he moved slowly step by 
 
 105 
 
io6 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 step. ‘Ay,’ said Johnson, ‘and when he 
 goes up hill, he stands still.' 
 
 O F the father of one of his friends, he 
 observed, ‘ He never clarified his 
 notions by filtrating them through other 
 minds ; he had a canal upon his estate, 
 where at one place the bank was too low — “ I 
 dug the canal deeper,” said he . 5 
 
 J OHNSON censured Gwyn for taking 
 down a church, which might have stood 
 many years, and building a new one at a 
 different place, for no other reason, but that 
 there might be a direct road to a new 
 bridge ; and his expression was, ‘ You are 
 taking a church out of the way, that the 
 people may go in a straight line to the 
 bridge . 5 Gwyn : ‘No, sir ; I am putting the 
 church in the way, that the people may not 
 go out of the way ' Johnson (with a hearty 
 loud laugh of approbation) : ‘ Speak no 
 
 more ; rest your colloquial fame upon this . 5 
 
 H E told Boswell that he went up to his 
 library without mentioning it to liis 
 servant, when he wanted to study secure 
 from interruption ; for he would not allow 
 his servant to say he was not at home, when 
 he really was. ‘A servant’s strict regard 
 for truth , 5 said he, ‘must be weakened by 
 such a practice. A philosopher may know, 
 
johnson’-s table-talk 107 
 
 that it is merely a form of denial ; but few 
 servants are such nice distinguishes. If I 
 accustom a servant to lie for me, have I not 
 reason to apprehend that he will tell many 
 lies for himself ? ’ 
 
 A QUAKER having objected to the ■ 
 ‘ observance of da} T s, and months, and 
 years,’ Johnson answered, ‘The church does 
 not superstitiously observe days, merely as 
 days, but as memorials of important facts. 
 Christmas might be kept as well upon one day 
 of the year as another ; but there should be 
 a stated day for commemorating the birth of 
 our Saviour, because there is danger that 
 what may be done on any day will be 
 neglected.’ 
 
 PEAKING of a dull tiresome fellow, 
 ^ whom he chanced to meet, he said, 
 
 ‘ That fellow seems to me to possess but one 
 idea, and that is a wrong one.’ 
 
 A GENTLEMAN, having to some of the 
 usual arguments for drinking, added 
 this, ‘You know, sir, drinking drives away 
 care, and makes us forget whatever is dis- 
 agreeable : would not you allow a man to 
 drink for that reason?’ Johnson: ‘Yes, 
 sir, if he sat next you.' 
 
108 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 H E was no admirer of blank verse, and 
 said, ‘ It always fails, unless sustained 
 by the dignity of the subject. In blank 
 verse, the language suffers more distortion, 
 to keep it out of prose, than any inconveni- 
 ence or limitation to be apprehended from 
 the shackles and circumspection of rhyme.’ 
 
 T ALKING of religious orders, he said, 
 
 ‘ If convents should be allowed at all, 
 they should only be retreats for persons 
 unable to serve the public, or who have 
 served it. It is our first duty to serve 
 society ; and after we have done that, we 
 may attend wholly to the salvation of our 
 own souls. A youthful passion for abstracted 
 devotion should not be encouraged.’ 
 
 B URTON’S Anatomy of Melancholy , he 
 said, was the only book that ever took 
 him out of bed two hours sooner than he 
 wished to rise. 
 
 S PEAKING of Mr. Hanway, who pub- 
 lished An Eight Days’ Journey from 
 London to Portsmouth , ‘Jonas,’ said he, 
 
 ‘ acquired some reputation by travelling 
 abroad, but lost it all by travelling at home.’ 
 
 J OHNSON, in high spirits one evening at 
 the club, attacked Swift, as he used to 
 do upon all occasions. ‘ The Tale of a Tub 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 109 
 
 is so much superior to liis other writings, 
 that one can hardly believe he was the 
 author of it ; there is in it such a vigour of 
 mind, such a swarm of thoughts, so much of 
 nature, and art, and life.’ Boswell wondered 
 to hear him say of Gulliver’s Travels , ‘ When 
 once you have thought of big men and little 
 men, it is very easy to do .all the rest.’ 
 
 F the celebrated dean of St. Patrick’s 
 
 Johnson said, ‘Swift has a higher 
 reputation than he deserves. His excellence 
 is strong sense ; for his humour, though very 
 well, is not remarkably good. I doubt 
 whether the Tale of a Tub be his ; for he 
 never owned it, and it is much above his 
 usual manner.’ 
 
 A GENTLEMAN, who had been very 
 ■L - unhappy in marriage, married im- 
 mediately after his wife died. Johnson said, 
 ‘ It is the triumph of hope over experience.’ 
 
 ‘AITHEN I censured a gentleman of my 
 
 * " acquaintance,’ says Boswell, ‘for 
 marrying a second time, as it showed a dis- 
 regard of his first wife, he said, “Not at all, 
 sir. On the contrary, were he not to marry 
 again, it might be concluded that his first 
 wife had given him a disgust to marriage ; 
 but by taking a second wife, he pays the 
 highest compliment to the first, by showing 
 
no 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 that she made him so happy as a married 
 man, that he wishes to be so a second time.” 
 So ingenious a turn did he give to this 
 delicate question. And yet, on another 
 occasion, he owned, that he once had almost 
 asked a promise of Mrs. Johnson that she 
 would not marry again, but had checked 
 himself.’ 
 
 1\ /T R. SEWARD heard Johnson once say, 
 ^ that £ a man has a very bad chance 
 for happiness in that state, unless he marries 
 a woman of strong and fixed principles of 
 religion.’ 
 
 A^IJHEN Johnson saw some young ladies 
 
 * * in Lincolnshire, who were remark- 
 ably well behaved, owing to their mother’s 
 strict discipline and severe correction, he 
 exclaimed, in one of Shakespeare’s lines, a 
 little varied, 
 
 ( Rod, I will honour thee for this thy duty.’ 
 
 At a subsequent period, he observed to Dr. 
 Rose, 4 There is now less flogging in our 
 great schools than formerly, but then less 
 is learned there ; so that what the boys get 
 at one end they lose at the other.’ 
 
 /r "T' HE imjDortance of strict and scrupulous 
 veracity cannot be too often incul- 
 cated. Johnson was known to be so rigidly 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 hi 
 
 attentive to it, that even in his common 
 conversation the slightest circumstance was 
 mentioned with exact precision. The know- 
 ledge of his having such a principle and 
 habit made his friends have a perfect 
 reliance on the truth of everything that he 
 told, however it might have been doubted, 
 if told by many others. - 
 
 T3ESIDES tending to refute the notion of 
 ■D Johnson’s bigotry, the following very 
 liberal sentiment has the additional value of 
 obviating an objection to our holy religion, 
 founded upon the discordant tenets of 
 Christians themselves : ‘For my part, sir, I 
 think all Christians, whether Papists or 
 Protestants, agree in the essential articles, 
 and that their differences are . trivial, and 
 rather political than religious.’ 
 
 A T another time, he and Boswell talked 
 of the Roman Catholic religion, and 
 how little difference there was in essential 
 matters between ours and it. J ohnson : 
 ‘ True, sir : all denominations of Christians 
 have really little difference in point of 
 doctrine, though they may differ widely in 
 external forms. There is a prodigious differ- 
 ence between the external form of one of 
 your Presbyterian churches in Scotland, and 
 a church in Italy ; yet the doctrine taught is 
 essentially the same.’ 
 
1 12 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 A 1 THEN Dr. Johnson liad finished some 
 * * part of his tragedy of Irene , he read 
 what he had done to Mr. Walmsley, who 
 objected to his having already brought his 
 heroine into great distress ; and asked him, 
 ‘How can you possibly contrive to plunge 
 her into deeper calamity?’ Johnson, in sly 
 allusion to the supposed oppressive proceed- 
 ings of the court of which Mr. Walmsley 
 was registrar, replied, ‘Sir, I can put her 
 into the spiritual court ! ’ 
 
 S OON after Edwards’s Canons of Criticism 
 came out, Johnson was dining at 
 Tonson the bookseller’s, with Hayman the 
 painter, and some more company. Hayman 
 related to Sir Joshua Reynolds that the 
 conversation having turned upon Edwards’s 
 book, the gentlemen praised it much, and 
 Johnson allowed its merit : but when they 
 went farther, and appeared to put that 
 author upon a level with Warburton, ‘Nay,’ 
 said J ohnson, ‘ he has given him some smart 
 hits to be sure ; but there is no proportion 
 between the two men ; they must not be 
 named together. A fly, sir, may sting a 
 stately horse, and make him wince ; but one 
 is but an insect, and the other is a horse still.’ 
 
 T^VR. BURNEY having remarked, that 
 Mr. Garrick was begining to look old, 
 Johnson said, ‘ Why, sir, you are not to 
 
wonder at that ; no man’s face has had more 
 wear and tear.’ 
 
 IR, I do not think Gray a first-rate 
 
 poet. He has not a bold imagination, 
 nor much command of words. The obscurity 
 in which he has involved himself will not 
 persuade us that he is sublime. His Elegy 
 in a Churchyard has a happy selection of 
 images, but I don’t like what are called his 
 great things. His ode, which begins 
 
 Ruin seize thee, ruthless king ! 
 
 has been celebrated for its abruptness, and 
 plunging into the subject all at once. But 
 such arts as these have no merit, unless 
 when they are original.’ 
 
 H E did not approve of late marriages, 
 observing, that more was lost in point 
 of time, than compensated for by any possible 
 advantages. Even ill-assorted marriages 
 were preferable to cheerless celibacy. 
 
 O NE Sunday, Boswell dined with him at 
 Mr. Hoole’s. They talked of Pope. 
 Johnson : ‘ He wrote his Dunciad for fame ; 
 that was his primary motive. Had it not 
 been for that, the dunces might have railed 
 against him till they were weary, without 
 his troubling himself about them. He 
 
 Confusion on thy banners wait ! 
 
ii4 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 delighted to vex them, no doubt ; but he 
 had more delight in seeing how well he 
 could vex them.’ 
 
 D R. GOLDSMITH’S new play, She 
 Stoops to Conquer , being mentioned 
 — Johnson : ‘ I know of no comedy, for many 
 years, that has so much exhilarated an 
 audience — that has answered so much the 
 great end of comedy— making an audience 
 merry.’ 
 
 ‘ 'T^HE Beggar’s Opera,’ and the common 
 question, whether it is pernicious in 
 its effects, having been introduced in con- 
 versation — Johnson: ‘As to this matter, 
 which has been very much contested, I 
 myself am of opinion, that more influence 
 has been ascribed to The Beggar’s Opera 
 than it, in reality, ever had ; for I do not 
 believe that any man was ever made a 
 rogue by being present at its representation. 
 At the same time, I do not deny, that it 
 may have some influence, by making the 
 character of a rogue familiar, and in some 
 degree pleasing.’ 
 
 O F London, Johnson observed, ‘Sir, if 
 you wish to have a just notion of the 
 magnitude of the city, you must not be 
 satisfied with seeing its great streets and 
 squares, but must survey the innumerable 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 115 
 
 little lanes and courts. It is not in the 
 showy evolutions of buildings, but in the 
 multiplicity of human habitations which are 
 crowded together, that the wonderful im- 
 mensity of London consists.’ 
 
 TJOSWELL talked of the cheerfulness of 
 Fleet Street, owing to the constant 
 quick succession of people which we perceive 
 passing through it. Johnson : ‘ Why, sir, 
 Fleet Street has a very animated appearance ; 
 but I think the full tide of human existence 
 is at Charing Cross.’ 
 
 T T E related the following minute anec- 
 ^ dote of this period : * In the last age, 
 when my mother lived in London, there were 
 two sets of people, those who gave the wall, 
 and those who took it ; the peaceable and 
 the quarrelsome. When I returned to Lich- 
 field, after having been in London, my 
 mother asked me, whether I was one of those 
 that gave the wall, or those who took it. 
 Noiv it is fixed that every man keeps to the 
 right ; or, if one is taking the wall, another 
 yields it ; and it is never a dispute.’ 
 
 H E said, ‘ Get as much force of mind as 
 you can. Live within your income. 
 Always have something saved at the end of 
 the year. Let your imports be more than 
 your exports, and you’ll never go far wrong.’ 
 
n6 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 O NE Sunday, Boswell told him he had 
 been that morning at a meeting of the 
 people called Quakers, where he heard a 
 woman preach. Johnson: ‘Sir, a woman’s 
 preaching is like a dog’s walking on his hind 
 legs ; it is not done well ; but you are 
 surprised to find it done at all.’ 
 
 D R. ADAMS found him one day busy at 
 his Dictionary, when the following 
 dialogue ensued: — Adams: ‘This is a great 
 work, sir : how are you to get all the 
 etymologies?’ Johnson: ‘ Why, sir, here is 
 a shelf with J unius, and Skinner, and others : 
 and there is a Welsh gentleman who has 
 published a collection of Welsh proverbs, 
 who will help me with the Welsh.’ Adams : 
 ‘But, sir, how can you do this in three 
 years ? ’ Johnson : ‘ Sir, I have no doubt that 
 I can do it in three years.’ Adams: ‘But 
 the French Academy, which consists of forty 
 members, took forty years to compile their 
 Dictionary.’ Johnson : ‘ Sir, thus it is ; this 
 is the proportion : let me see — forty times 
 forty is sixteen hundred : as three to sixteen 
 hundred, so is the proportion of an English- 
 man to a Frenchman.’ 
 
 J OHNSON informed Boswell that he 
 made the bargain for Goldsmith’s Vicar 
 of Wakefield, and the price was sixty pounds. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 117 
 
 ‘And sir,’ said he, £ a sufficient price too, 
 when it was sold ; for then the fame of 
 Goldsmith had not been elevated, as it after- 
 wards was, by his Traveller ; and the book- 
 seller had such faint hopes of profit by his 
 bargain, that he kept the manuscript by him 
 a long time, and did not publish it till after 
 The Traveller had appeared. Then, to be 
 sure, it was accidentally worth more money.’ 
 
 A PENSION of two hundred pounds a 
 year having been given to Sheridan, 
 Johnson, who thought slightingly of Sheri- 
 dan’s art, upon hearing it, exclaimed, 
 ‘ What ! have they given him a pension ? 
 Then it is time for me to give up mine.’ 
 Whether this proceeded from a momentary 
 indignation, as if it were an affront to his 
 exalted merit that a player should be 
 rewarded in the same manner with him, or 
 was the sudden effect of a fit of peevishness, 
 it was unluckily said, and indeed cannot be 
 justified. Mr. Sheridan’s pension was 
 granted to him, not as a player, but as a 
 sufferer in the cause of Government, when 
 he was manager of the Theatre Royal in 
 Ireland, when parties ran high in 1753 : and 
 it must also be allowed that he was a man 
 of literature, and had considerably improved 
 the arts of readiug and speaking with dis- 
 tinctness and propriety. 
 
n8 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 Johnson afterwards complained that a 
 man who disliked him, repeated his sarcasm 
 to Mr. Sheridan, without telling him what 
 followed, which was, that after a pause, he 
 added, ‘ However, I am glad that he has a 
 pension, for he is a very good man.’ 
 
 A N essay, written by Mr. Deane, a 
 divine of the Church of England, 
 maintaining the future life of brutes by an 
 explication of certain parts of the Scriptures, 
 was mentioned, and the doctrine insisted on 
 by a gentleman, who seemed fond of curious 
 speculation. Johnson, who did not like to 
 hear of anything concerning a future state, 
 which was not authorised by the regular 
 canons of orthodoxy, discouraged this talk ; 
 and being offended at its continuation, he 
 watched an opportunity to give the gentle- 
 man a blow of reprehension. So, when the 
 poor speculatist, with a serious metaphysical 
 pensive face, addressed him, ‘But really, 
 sir, when we see a very sensible dog, we 
 don’t know what to think of him,’ — John- 
 son, rolling with joy at the thought which 
 beamed in his eye, turned quickly round, 
 and replied, ‘ True, sir ; and when we see a 
 very foolish fellow , we don’t know what to 
 think of him.’ He then rose up, strode to 
 the fire, and stood for some time laughing 
 and exulting. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 119 
 
 '""T'ALKING of an acquaintance, whose 
 narratives, which abounded in curious 
 and interesting topics, were unhappily found 
 to be very fabulous, Boswell mentioned 
 Lord Mansfield’s having said to him, ‘ Sup- 
 pose we believe one half of what he tells.’ 
 Johnson: ‘Ay; but we don’t know which 
 half to believe. By his lying we lose, not 
 only our reverence for him, but all comfort 
 in his conversation.’ Boswell : ‘ May we not 
 take it as an amusing fiction ? ’ J ohnson : 
 ‘Sir, the misfortune is, that you will in- 
 sensibly believe as much of it as you incline 
 to believe.’ 
 
 M RS. THRALE disputed with him on 
 the merit of Prior. He attacked him 
 powerfully ; said he wrote of love like a 
 man who had never felt it ; his love verses 
 were college verses ; and he repeated the 
 song ‘Alexis shunn’d his fellow swains,’ etc., 
 in so ludicrous a manner, as to make us all 
 wonder how any one could have been pleased 
 with such fantastical stuff. Mrs. Thrale 
 stood to her gun with great courage, in 
 defence of amorous ditties, which Johnson 
 despised, till he at last silenced her by 
 saying, ‘ My dear lady, talk no more of 
 this : nonsense can be defended but by 
 
 nonsense.’ 
 
120 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 A \ THEN the messenger, who carried the 
 » * last sheet of Johnson’s Dictionary to 
 Millar, returned, Johnson asked him, ‘Well, 
 what did he say?’ ‘Sir,’ answered the 
 messenger, ‘ he said, ‘ ‘ Thank God, I have 
 done with him.”’ ‘I am glad,’ replied 
 J ohnson, with a smile, ‘ that he thanks God 
 for anything. ’ 
 
 A T a gentleman’s seat in the west of 
 England, in order to amuse him till 
 dinner should be ready, he was taken out to 
 walk in the garden. The master of the 
 house, thinking it proper to introduce 
 something scientific into the conversation, 
 addressed him thus: ‘Are you a botanist, 
 Dr. Johnson?’ ‘No, sir,’ answered John- 
 son, ‘ I am not a botanist ; and (alluding, 
 no doubt, to his near-sightedness) should I 
 wish to become a botanist, I must first turn 
 myself into a reptile.’ 
 
 nPHE ‘ worthy' 1 Duke of Queensberry, 
 ^ as Thomson, in his Seasons, justly 
 characterises him, told Boswell, that when 
 Gay showed him The Beggar's Opera, his 
 grace’s observation was, ‘ This is a very odd 
 thing, Gay ; I am satisfied that it is either a 
 very good thing or a very bad thing.’ It 
 proved the former, beyond the warmest 
 expectations of the author or his friends. 
 Mr. Cambridge, however, mentioned, that 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 121 
 
 there was good reason enough to doubt 
 concerning its success. He was told by 
 Quin, that during the first night of its 
 appearance it was long in a very dubious 
 state ; that there was a disposition to damn 
 it, and that it was saved by the song, 
 
 O, ponder well ! be not severe ! 
 
 the audience being much affected by the 
 innocent looks of Polly, when she came to 
 those two lines, which exhibit at once a 
 painful and ridiculous image, 
 
 F or on the rope that hangs my dear, 
 Depends poor Polly’s life. 
 
 Quin himself had so bad an opinion of it, 
 that he refused the part of Captain Mac- 
 heath ; and gave it to Walker, who acquired 
 great celebrity by his grave, yet animated 
 performance of it. 
 
 H E communicated to Boswell the 
 following particulars upon the 
 subject of his religious progress. ‘ I fell 
 into an inattention to religion, or an in- 
 difference about it, in my ninth year. The 
 church at Lichfield, in which we had a seat, 
 wanted reparation ; so I was to go and 
 find a seat in other churches ; and, having 
 bad eyes, and being awkward about this, I 
 used to go and read in the fields on Sunday. 
 This habit continued till my fourteenth 
 
122 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 year ; and still I find a great reluctance to 
 go to church. I then became a sort of lax 
 talker against religion, for I did not much 
 think against it ; and this lasted till I went 
 to Oxford, where it would not be suffered. 
 When at Oxford, I took up Law’s Serious 
 Call to a Holy Life , expecting to find it a 
 dull book (as such books generally are), 
 and, perhaps, to laugh at it. But I found 
 Law quite an overmatch for me ; and this 
 was the first occasion of my thinking in 
 earnest of religion, after I became capable 
 of rational inquiry.’ 
 
 A T Mr. Thrale’s, one evening, Johnson 
 had defended the propriety of re- 
 cording in biography the weaknesses of 
 human nature. Next morning, while at 
 breakfast, he gave a very earnest recom- 
 mendation of what he himself practised 
 with the utmost conscientiousness — a strict 
 attention to truth, even in the most minute 
 particulars. ‘ Accustom your children, ’ said 
 he, ‘ constantly to this ; if a thing happened 
 at one window, and they, when relating it, 
 say that it happened at another; do not let it 
 pass, but instantly check them ; you do not 
 know where deviation from truth will end.’ 
 Boswell : ‘ It may come to the door ; and 
 when once an account is at all varied in one 
 circumstance, it may by degrees be varied 
 so as to be totally different from what really 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 123 
 
 happened.’ Their lively hostess, whose 
 fancy was impatient of the rein, fidgeted 
 at this, and ventured to say, ‘ Nay, this is 
 too much. If Mr. Johnson should forbid me 
 to drink tea, I would compty, as I should 
 feel the restraint only twice a day ; but 
 little variations in narrative must happen a 
 thousand times a day, if one is not perpetu- 
 ally watching.’ Johnson: ‘Well, madam, 
 and you ought to be perpetually watching. 
 It is more from carelessness about truth, 
 than from intentional lying, that there is 
 so much falsehood in the world.’ 
 
 T3 OS WELL having expressed his regret 
 that Goldsmith would, upon every 
 occasion, endeavour to shine, by which he 
 often exposed himself. Langton : ‘ He is 
 not like Addison, who was content with the 
 fame of his writings ; he did not aim also at 
 excellence in conversation, for which he 
 found himself unfit ; and said to a lady, 
 who complained of his having talked little 
 in company, “Madam, I have but nine- 
 pence in ready money, but I can draw for a 
 thousand pounds.’” Boswell: ‘Goldsmith 
 has a great deal of gold in his cabinet ; but 
 not content with this, he is always taking 
 out his purse.’ Johnson: ‘Yes, sir, and 
 
 that so often an empty purse ! ’ 
 
 Of the same celebrated author, Johnson 
 said, ‘ He is not an agreeable companion, 
 
124 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 for he talks always for fame : a man who 
 does so never can be pleasing. The man 
 who talks to unburthen his mind is the man 
 to delight you. An eminent friend of ours 
 is not so agreeable as the variety of his 
 knowledge would otherwise make him, be- 
 cause he talks partly from ostentation.’ 
 Again : ‘ The misfortune of Goldsmith in 
 conversation is this — he goes on without 
 knowing how he is to get off. His genius 
 is great, but his knowledge is small. As 
 they say of a generous man, it is a pity he 
 is not rich, we may say of Goldsmith, it is a 
 pity he is not knowing : he would not keep 
 his knowledge to himself.’ 
 
 And on another occasion : ‘ Goldsmith 
 
 should not be for ever attempting to shine 
 in conversation : he has not temper for it, 
 he is so much mortified when he fails.’ 
 
 J OHNSON praised John Bunyan highly. 
 
 ‘ His Pilgrim's Progress has great merit 
 both for invention, imagination, and the 
 conduct of the story: and it has had the 
 best evidence of its merit, the general and 
 continued approbation of mankind : few 
 books, I believe, have had a more extensive 
 sale. It is remarkable that it begins very 
 much like the poem of Dante ; yet there 
 was no translation of Dante when Bunyan 
 wrote. There is reason to think that he 
 had read Spenser.’ 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 125 
 
 S OME of the company expressed a wonder, 
 why the author of so excellent a book 
 as the Whole Duty of Man should conceal 
 himself. Johnson: ‘There maybe differ- 
 
 ent reasons assigned for this, any one of 
 which would be very sufficient. He may 
 have been a clergyman, and may have 
 thought that his religious counsels would 
 have less weight when known to come from 
 a man whose profession was theology. He 
 may have been a man whose practice was 
 not suitable to his principles ; so that his 
 character might injure the effect of his book, 
 which he had written in a season of peni- 
 tence. Or, he may have been a man of 
 rigid self-denial ; so that he would have no 
 reward for his pious labours while in this 
 world, but refer it all to a future state.’ 
 
 H E talked of Isaac Walton’s Lives , 
 which was one of his most favourite 
 books : Dr. Donne’s Life, he said, was the 
 most perfect of them. He observed, that 
 ‘it was wonderful that Walton, who was in 
 a very low situation in life, should have been 
 familiarly received by so many great men, 
 and that at a time when the ranks of society 
 were kept more separate than they are now.’ 
 
 F IELDING being mentioned, Johnson 
 exclaimed, ‘ He was a blockhead ’ : 
 and, upon Boswell’s expressing his astonish- 
 
126 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 ment at so strange an assertion, lie said, 
 ‘ What I mean by being a blockhead is, that 
 he was a barren rascal.’ Boswell: ‘Will 
 
 you not allow, sir, that he draws very 
 natural pictures of human life?’ Johnson : 
 ‘ Why, sir, it is of very low life. Richard- 
 son used to say, that had he not known who 
 Fielding was, he should have believed he 
 was an ostler. Sir, there is more knowledge 
 of the heart in one letter of Richardson’s, 
 than in all Tom Jones. I, indeed, never 
 read Joseph Andreivs.’ Erskine : ‘Surely, 
 sir, Richardson is very tedious.’ Johnson: 
 ‘ Why, sir, if you were to read Richardson 
 for the story, your impatience would be so 
 much fretted, that you would hang yourself ; 
 but you must read him for the sentiment, 
 and consider the story as only giving occa- 
 sion to the sentiment.’ 
 
PART III 
 
 ESTIMATES OF AUTHORS 
 
PART III 
 
 ESTIMATES OF AUTHORS 
 
 ADDISON 
 
 ADDISON to be sure was a 
 ill TV /T t S’ reat man > hi s learning was 
 I iVl 1 not profound ; but his morality, 
 his humour, and his elegance 
 of writing set him very high. 
 
 ARBUTHNOT 
 
 I THINK Dr. Arbuthnot the first man 
 among the eminent writers in Queen 
 Anne’s time. He was the most universal 
 genius, being an excellent physician, a man 
 of deep learning, and a man of much 
 humour. 
 
 ASCHAM 
 
 T T ADDON and Ascham, the pride of 
 * Elizabeth’s reign, however they have 
 succeeded in prose, no sooner attempt verse 
 than they provoke derision. 
 
130 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 BACON 
 
 T3 ACON, in writing his history of Henry 
 vii., does not seem to have consulted 
 an}^ record, but to have taken what he found 
 in other histories, and blended it with what 
 he learned by tradition. 
 
 BLACKMORE 
 
 H IS name was so long used to point every 
 epigram upon dull writers, that it 
 became at last a byword of contempt. 
 
 BOLINGBROKE 
 
 S IR, he was a scoundrel and a coward : a 
 scoundrel for discharging a blunderbuss 
 against religion and morality ; a coward 
 because he had not resolution to fire it off 
 himself, but left half a crown to a beggarly 
 Scotsman (Mallet) to draw the trigger after 
 his death. 
 
 BOSWELL 
 
 B OSWELL in the year 1745 was a fine 
 boy, wore a white cockade and prayed 
 for King James, till one of his uncles gave 
 him a shilling, on condition that he would 
 pray for King George, which he accordingly 
 did. So you see that Whigs of all ages are 
 made the same way. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 131 
 
 IS style strikes, but does not please ; 
 
 his tropes are hard, and his combina- 
 tions uncouth. . . . His innovations are 
 sometimes pleasing, and his temerities happy 
 . . . . It is on his own writings that Browne 
 is to depend for the esteem of posterity, of 
 which he shall not be easily deprived while 
 learning shall have any reverence among 
 men. 
 
 BUNYAN 
 
 H IS Pilgrim’s Progress has great merit, 
 both for invention, imagination, and 
 the conduct of the story ; and it has had 
 the best evidence of its merit, the general 
 and continued approbation of mankind. 
 Few books, I believe, have had a more exten- 
 sive sale. It is remarkable that it begins 
 very much like the poem of Dante ; yet 
 there was no translation of Dante when 
 Bunyan wrote. There is reason to think 
 that he had read Spenser. 
 
 BURNET 
 
 'DURNET’S History of his own Times 
 U is very entertaining. The style indeed 
 is mere chit-chat. I do not believe that 
 Burnet intentionally lied ; but he was so 
 
 BROWNE 
 
132 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 much prejudiced that he took no pains to 
 find out the truth. He is like a man who 
 is resolved to regulate his time by a certain 
 watch, but will not inquire whether the 
 watch be right or not. 
 
 BUTLER 
 
 / 'T' HERE is in Hudibras a great deal of 
 bullion that will always last. But to 
 be sure the highest strokes of his wit owed 
 their force to the impression of the char- 
 acters which was upon men’s minds at the 
 time, to their knowing them at table and in 
 the street, in being familiar with them, and, 
 above all, to his satire being directed against 
 those whom a little while before they had 
 hated and feared. 
 
 CHATTERTON 
 
 T HIS is the most extraordinary young 
 man that has encountered my know- 
 ledge. It is wonderful how the whelp has 
 written such things. 
 
 CHESTERFIELD 
 
 'T^'HIS man, I thought, had been a lord 
 ^ among wits ; but I find he is only a 
 wit among lords. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 133 
 
 COLLINS 
 
 M R. COLLINS was a man of extensive 
 literature and of vigorous faculties. 
 He was acquainted not only with the learned 
 tongues, but with the Italian, French, and 
 Spanish languages. He had employed his 
 mind chiefly on works of fiction and subjects 
 of fancy ; and, by indulging some peculiar 
 habits of thought, was eminently delighted 
 with those flights of imagination which pass 
 the bounds of nature, and to which the mind 
 is reconciled only by a passive acquiescence 
 in popular traditions. He loved fairies, 
 genii, giants, and monsters ; he delighted 
 to rove through the meanders of enchant- 
 ment, to gaze on the magnificence of golden 
 palaces, to repose by the waterfalls of 
 Elysian gardens. 
 
 CONGREVE 
 
 T T IS scenes exhibit not much of humour, 
 ^ imagery, or passion ; his personages 
 are a kind of intellectual gladiators ; every 
 sentence is to ward or strike. His comedies 
 have therefore in some degree the operation 
 of tragedies ; they surprise rather than 
 divert, and raise admiration rather than 
 merriment. But they are the works of a 
 mind replete with images and quick in 
 combinations. 
 
134 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 COWLEY 
 
 I N the general review of Cowley’s poetry, 
 it will be found that he wrote with 
 abundant fertility, but negligent or unskil- 
 ful selection ; with much thought, but with 
 little imagery ; that he is never pathetic and 
 rarely sublime ; but always either ingenious 
 or learned, either acute or profound. 
 
 DE FOE 
 
 N OBODY ever laid down the book of 
 Robinson Crusoe without wishing it 
 
 longer. 
 
 DENHAM 
 
 H E is one of the writers that improved 
 our taste, and advanced our language ; 
 and whom therefore we ought to read with 
 gratitude, though, having done much, he left 
 much to do. 
 
 DONNE 
 
 A MAN of very extensive and various 
 knowledge. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 135 
 DRYDEN 
 
 O F Dryden’s works it was said by Pope 
 that ‘ he could select from them 
 better specimens of every mode of poetry 
 than any other English writer could supply.’ 
 Perhaps no nation ever produced a writer 
 that enriched his language with such a 
 variety of models. To him we owe the 
 improvement, perhaps the completion of our 
 metre, the refinement of our language, and 
 much of the correctness of our sentiments. 
 By him we were taught sapere et fari , to 
 think naturally and express forcibly. 
 
 FENTON 
 
 F his morals and his conversation the 
 
 account is uniform ; he was never 
 named but with praise and fondness, as a 
 man in the highest degree amiable and ex- 
 cellent. Such was the character given of 
 him by the Earl of Orrery, his pupil ; such 
 is the testimony of Pope ; and such were 
 the suffrages of all who could boast of his 
 acquaintance. 
 
 FIELDING 
 
 QJ IR, he was a blockhead. 
 
136 
 
 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 gay 
 
 A \ TE owe to Gay the ballad opera, a mode 
 * * of comedy which at first was sup- 
 posed only to delight by its novelty, but has 
 now, by the experience of half a century, 
 been found so well accommodated to the 
 disposition of a popular audience, that it is 
 likely to keep long possession of the stage. 
 Whether this new drama was the product 
 of judgment or luck, the praise of wit must 
 be given to the inventor ; ajid there are 
 many writers read with more reverence, to 
 whom such merits of originality cannot be 
 attributed. 
 
 GOLDSMITH 
 
 O man was more foolish when he had 
 
 not a pen in his hand, or more wise 
 when he had. 
 
 GRAY 
 
 O IR, I don’t think Gray a first-rate poet. 
 
 ^ He has not a bold imagination, nor 
 much command of words. The obscurity in 
 which he has involved himself will not 
 persuade us that he is sublime. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 137 
 
 JONSON 
 
 HEN Jonson came, instructed from 
 
 the school 
 
 To please in method, and invent by rule ; 
 His studious patience and laborious art 
 By regular approach essay’d the heart. 
 
 Cold approbation gave the lingering bays 
 For those who durst llot censure, scarce 
 could praise. 
 
 A mortal born, he met the general doom, 
 But left, like Egypt’s kings, a lasting tomb. 
 
 JUNIUS 
 
 T SHOULD have believed Burke to be 
 Junius, because I knew no man but 
 Burke who is capable of writing these 
 Letters ; but Burke spontaneously denied it 
 to me. The case would have been different, 
 had I asked him if he was the author ; a man 
 so questioned, as to anonymous publication, 
 may think he has a right to deny it. 
 
 MILTON 
 
 1\ /T ILTON, madam, was a genius that 
 could cut a Colossus from a rock, 
 but could not carve heads upon cherry- 
 stones. 
 
MONTAGU 
 
 F him, who from a poet, became a 
 
 patron of poets, it will be readily 
 believed that the works would not miss of 
 celebration. Addison began to praise him 
 early, and was followed or accompanied by 
 other poets ; perhaps by all except Swift 
 and Pope, who forbore to flatter him in his 
 life, and after his death spoke of him, Swift 
 with slight censure, and Pope, in the char- 
 acter of Bufo, with acrimonious contempt. 
 
 MONTAGU, MRS. 
 
 M RS. MONTAGU does not make a trade 
 of her wit ; but Mrs. Montagu is a 
 very extraordinary woman ; she has a con- 
 stant stream of conversation, and it is always 
 impregnated, it has always a meaning. 
 
 OTWAY 
 
 O TWAY had not much cultivated versi- 
 fication, nor much replenished his 
 mind with general knowledge. His prin- 
 cipal power was in moving the passions, to 
 which Drj r den in his latter years left an 
 illustrious testimony. He appears, by some 
 of his verses, to have been a zealous loyalist, 
 and had what was in those times the 
 common reward of loyalty ; he lived and 
 died neglected. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 139 
 PARNELL 
 
 T HE general character of Parnell is not 
 great extent of comprehension or 
 fertility of mind. Of the little that appears 
 still less is his own. His praise must be 
 derived from the easy sweetness of his 
 diction ; in his verse there is more happiness 
 than pains ; he is sprightly without effort, 
 and always delights though he never ravishes ; 
 everthing is proper, yet everything seems 
 casual. If there is some appearance of 
 elaboration in The Hermit, the narrative, 
 as it is less airy, is less pleasing. 
 
 FTER all this, it is surely superfluous 
 
 to answer the question that has once 
 been asked, whether Pope was a poet? 
 otherwise than by asking in return, if Pope 
 be not a poet, where is poetry to be found ? 
 To circumscribe poetry by a definition will 
 only show the narrowness of the definer, 
 though a definition which shall exclude Pope 
 will not easily be made. Let us look round 
 upon the present time, and back upon the 
 past ; let us inquire to whom the voice of 
 mankind has decreed the wreath of poetry ; 
 let their productions be examined, and their 
 claims stated, and the pretensions of Pope 
 will be no more disputed. 
 
 POPE 
 
140 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 PRIOR 
 
 T MENTIONED Lord Hales’ censure of 
 -*• Prior in his preface to a collection of 
 sacred poems, by various hands, published 
 by him at Edinburgh a great many years 
 ago, where he mentions ‘ these impure tales 
 which will be the eternal opprobrium of their 
 ingenious author.’ Johnson: ‘Sir, Lord 
 
 Hales has forgot. There is nothing in Prior 
 that Avill excite to lewdness. If Lord 
 Hales thinks there is, he must be more com- 
 bustible than other people.’ I instanced the 
 tale of ‘Paulo Purganti and his Wife.’ 
 Johnson : ‘ Sir, there is nothing there but 
 that his wife wanted to be kissed, when poor 
 Paulo was out of pocket. No, sir, Prior is a 
 lady’s book. No lady is ashamed to have it 
 standing in her library.’ 
 
 ROSCOMMON 
 
 T T E is the only correct writer in verse 
 ^ -*■ before Addison. 
 
 ROWE 
 
 W HENCE has Rowe his reputation? 
 
 From the reasonableness and pro- 
 priety of some of his schemes, from the 
 elegance of his diction, and the suavity of 
 his verse. He seldom moves either piety or 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 141 
 
 terror ; but he often elevates the sentiments ; 
 he seldom pierces the breast, but he always 
 delights the ear, and often improves the 
 understanding. 
 
 SAVAGE 
 
 / T' HOUGH he may not be altogether 
 secure against the objections of the 
 critics, it must, however, be acknowledged 
 that his works are the productions of a 
 genius truly poetical ; and, what many 
 writers who have been more lavishly ap- 
 plauded cannot boast, that they have an 
 original air which has no resemblance of 
 any foregoing writer, that the versification 
 and sentiments have a cast peculiar to them- 
 selves, which no man can imitate with suc- 
 cess, because what was nature in Savage 
 would in another be affectation. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE 
 
 HE merit of Shakespeare is such as the 
 ignorant can take in and the learned 
 add nothing to. 
 
 ACH change of many-colour’d life he 
 ^ drew : 
 
 Exhausted worlds and then imagined new ; 
 Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, 
 And panting time toil’d after him in vain. 
 
142 Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 SHENSTONE 
 
 T_T IS mind was not very comprehensive, 
 ^ ^ nor his curiosity active ; he had no 
 value for those parts of knowledge which 
 he had not himself cultivated. 
 
 SHERIDAN 
 
 T T E who has written the two best 
 comedies of his age is surely a 
 considerable man. 
 
 STERNE 
 
 J OHNSON : ‘ Any man who has a name 
 or who has the power of pleasing will 
 be very generally invited in London. The 
 man Sterne, I have been told, has had en- 
 gagements for three months.’ Goldsmith : 
 ‘ And a very dull fellow.’ Johnson : ‘ Why, 
 no, sir.’ 
 
 SWIFT 
 
 S WIFT is clear, but shallow. In coarse 
 humour he is inferior to Arbuthnot ; in 
 delicate humour he is inferior to Addison. 
 So he is inferior to his contemporaries, with- 
 out putting him against the whole world. 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 
 
 143 
 
 TEMPLE 
 
 S IR WILLIAM TEMPLE was the first 
 writer who gave cadence to English 
 prose. Before his time they were careless 
 of arrangement, and did not mind whether 
 a sentence ended with an important word or 
 an insignificant word ; or with what part of 
 speech it was concluded.' 
 
 THOMSON 
 
 'T^HOMSON had a true poetical genius, 
 the power of viewing everything in a 
 poetical light. His fault is such a cloud of 
 words sometimes that the sense can hardly 
 peep through. Sheils, who compiled Cibber's 
 Lives of the Poets , was one day sitting with 
 me. I took down Thomson and read aloud 
 a large portion of him, and then asked, ‘ Is 
 not this fine ? ’ Sheils having expressed the 
 highest admiration, ‘Well, sir,’ said I, ‘I 
 have omitted every other line.’ 
 
 WALLER 
 
 IT E added something to our elegance of 
 diction, and something to our pro- 
 priety of thought. 
 
144 Johnson’s table-talk 
 WARBURTON 
 
 T T E was a man of vigorous faculties, a 
 mind fervid and vehement, supplied 
 by incessant and unlimited inquiry, with 
 wonderful extent and variety of knowledge, 
 which yet had not oppressed his imagination 
 nor clouded his perspicacity. To every work 
 he brought a memory full fraught, together 
 with a fancy fertile of original combinations, 
 and at once exerted the powers of the scholar, 
 the reasoner, and the wit. But his know- 
 ledge was too multifarious to be always 
 exact, and his pursuits too eager to be 
 always cautious. His abilities gave him a 
 haughty confidence, which he disdained to 
 conceal or mollify ; and his impatience of 
 opposition disposed him to treat his adver- 
 saries with such contemptuous superiority 
 as made his readers commonly his enemies, 
 and excited against the advocate the wishes 
 of some who favoured the cause. 
 
 YOUNG 
 
 O F Young’s poems it is difficult to give 
 any general character, for he has no 
 uniformity of manner ; one of his pieces has 
 no great resemblance to another. He began 
 to write early and continued long; and at 
 different times had different modes of poli- 
 tical excellence in view. His numbers are 
 
Johnson’s table-talk 145 
 
 sometimes smooth and sometimes rugged ; 
 his style is sometimes concatenated and 
 sometimes abrupt ; sometimes diffusive and 
 sometimes concise. His plans seem to have 
 started in his mind at the present moment ; 
 and his thoughts appear the effect of chance, 
 sometimes adverse, and sometimes lucky, 
 with very little operation,of judgment. 
 
 K 
 
PART I.— SUBJECT INDEX 
 
 Ability, i. 
 
 Actions, i. 
 
 Adversity, i. 
 
 Advice, 2. 
 
 Affectation, 2. 
 
 Age, 3. See also Youth. 
 Anticipation, 3. 
 Aphorisms, 4. 
 Apparitions, 4. 
 
 Army, 5. 
 
 Authorship, 5. 
 
 Avarice, 6. 
 
 Beauty, 6. 
 Benevolence, 7. 
 
 Books, 8. 
 
 Breeding, 8. 
 
 Burlesque, 8. 
 
 Business, 9. 
 
 Calamity, 10. 
 
 Censure, 10. 
 
 Change, 10. 
 
 Character, 10. 
 
 Charity, n. 
 
 Civility, 12. 
 
 146 
 
 Clerical life, 12. 
 Complaint, 13. 
 Conjecture, 13. 
 Contempt, 13. 
 Content, 13. 
 Courage, 14. 
 Credulity, 14. 
 Criticism, 15. 
 Cunning, 16. 
 Curiosity, 16. 
 Custom, 17. 
 
 Death, 18. 
 Deception, 18. 
 Deception, Self-, 19. 
 Dependence, 19. 
 Desire, 20. 
 
 Devotion, 20. 
 Difficulty, 21. 
 Diligence, 21. 
 Disguise, 21. 
 Duplicity, 21. 
 
 Duty, 21. 
 
 Education, 22. 
 Employment, 23. 
 
INDICES 
 
 147 
 
 Emulation, 23. 
 
 Enquiry, 23. 
 
 Envy, 24. See also 
 
 Pride. 
 
 Equality, 24. 
 
 Error, 24. 
 
 Esteem, 24. 
 
 Evil, 24. 
 
 Example, 25. 
 Excellence, 26. 
 Expectation, 26. 
 
 Fame, 26. 
 
 Fancy, 27. See also 
 
 Reason. 
 
 Favour, 27. 
 
 Fear, 27. 
 
 Flattery, 28. 
 
 Folly, 29. 
 
 Foppery, 29. 
 Forgiveness, 29. 
 Fortune, 30. 
 
 Friendship, 30. 
 
 Gaming, 32. 
 
 Genius, 32. 
 
 Ghosts, 33. 
 
 Gluttony, 34. 
 Good-humour, 34. 
 
 Good - humour and 
 Gaiety, 35. 
 
 Good, Universal, 35. 
 Government, 36. 
 Government, Self-, 36. 
 Greatness, 36. 
 
 Grief, 37. 
 
 Guilt, 37. 
 
 Habits, 37. 
 
 Happiness, 37. 
 Helplessness, 38. 
 Historians, 39. 
 
 Hope, 39. 
 
 Idleness, 40. See also 
 Poverty. 
 
 Ignorance, 41. 
 
 Ignorance and Con- 
 fidence, 41. 
 
 Ignorance and Know- 
 ledge, 41. 
 Imagination, 42. 
 Imitation, 42. 
 Imposition, 43. 
 Incivility, 44. 
 Inconstancy, 44. 
 Industry, 44. 
 
 Innocence, 44. 
 
 Insult, 45. 
 
 Intellectual labour, 45. 
 Irish and Scotch, 45. 
 Irresolution, 46. 
 
 Joy, 46. 
 
 Judgment, 46. 
 
 Justice, 46. See also 
 Prudence. 
 
 I Knowledge, 47. 
 
148 
 
 INDICES 
 
 Language, 47. 
 Language, English, 49. | 
 Law, the, 49. 
 
 Lawyers, 50. 
 
 Learning, 51. 
 
 Liberty, 52. 
 
 Life, 52. 
 
 Literature, 53. 
 
 Living over again, 54. 
 Loyalty, 54. 
 
 Malice, 54. 
 
 Man, 55. 
 
 Manners, 55. 
 
 Marriage, 56. 
 
 Memory, 56. 
 
 Merit, 57. 
 
 Method, 57. 
 
 Mind, 57. 
 
 Mirth, 58. 
 
 Misfortunes, 59. 
 
 Money, 59. 
 
 Novelty, 60. 
 
 Numbers, 60. 
 
 Obligation, 60. 
 Opinion, 61. 
 Opportunity, 61. 
 
 Pain, 61. 
 
 Patriot, 62. 
 
 Peevishness, 62. 
 
 People, 63. 
 
 Perfection, 63. 
 
 Perfidy, 64. 
 
 Pity, 64. 
 
 Pleasure, 65. 
 
 Poets and Poetry, 66. 
 Politeness, 67. 
 
 Politics, 69. 
 
 Poverty, 69. 
 
 Poverty and Idleness, 
 70. See also Idle- 
 ness. 
 
 Praise, 70. 
 
 Precipitancy, 71. 
 Prejudice, 71. 
 
 Pride, 71. 
 
 Pride and Envy, 72. 
 
 See also Envy. 
 Propriety, 72. 
 Prosperity, 72. 
 Providence, 73. 
 Prudence, 73. 
 
 Prudence and Justice, 
 73 - 
 
 Raillery, 74. 
 
 Reading, 74. 
 
 Reason and Fancy, 75. 
 Rebellion, 75. 
 
 Religion, 76. 
 
 Reproof, 77. 
 Resolution, 77. 
 Respect, 78. 
 Retaliation, 78. 
 Retirement, 78. 
 Retrospection, 78. 
 Revenge, 80. 
 
 Rhyme, 80. 
 
INDICES 
 
 149 
 
 Riches, 81. 
 
 Riches and Understand- 
 ing, 83. 
 
 Satire, 83. 
 
 Scotch. See Irish. 
 Secrecy, 83. 
 
 Secrets, 84. 
 
 Seduction, 85. 
 
 Sense, Good-, 85. 
 Shame, 86. 
 
 Singularity, 86. 
 Solitude, 87. 
 
 Study, 87. 
 
 Style, 87. 
 
 Sublimity, 88. 
 Subordination, 88. 
 Suspicion, 88. 
 
 Temptation, 89. 
 
 Time, 89. 
 
 Tragedy, 91. 
 
 Travelling, 92. 
 
 Truth, 92. 
 
 Understanding, 93. 
 
 See also Riches. 
 Universality, 93. . 
 
 Vanity, 93. 
 
 Vaunting, 93. 
 
 Vice, 94. 
 
 Virtue, 94. 
 
 Wine, 95. 
 
 Wisdom, 95. 
 
 Wit, 95. 
 
 Women, 98. 
 
 Words, 99. 
 
 Wrong, roo. 
 
 Wrongs, 100. 
 
 Youth, 100. 
 
 Youth and Age, 101. 
 
 PART II.— INDEX NOMINUM 
 
 Adams, Dr., 116. 
 Addison,. 123. 
 
 Boswell, 107, 109, hi, 
 113, 115, 116, 119, 121, 
 122, 123, 126. 
 Bunyan, 124. 
 
 Burney, Dr., 112. 
 Burton, 108. 
 
 Cambridge, 120. 
 Careless, Mrs., 105. 
 
 Dante, 124. 
 
 Deane, Rev. Mr., 118. 
 Donne, Dr., 125. 
 
 Erskine, 126. 
 Fielding, 125. 
 
Prior, 1 19. 
 
 Garrick, 112 
 Gay, 120. 
 
 Goldsmith, 114, 117, 
 
 123, 124. 
 
 Gray, 113. 
 
 Gwyn, 106. 
 
 Hanway, 108. 
 Hayman, 112. 
 
 Hector, 105. 
 
 Hoole, 1 13. 
 
 Langton, 123. 
 
 Law, 122. 
 
 Macheath, Captain, 
 
 I2T. 
 
 Mansfield, Lord, 119. 
 Millar, publisher, 120. 
 
 Pope, 113. 
 
 Queensberry, 120. 
 Quin, 12 1. 
 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 
 105, 112. 
 
 Richardson, 126. 
 
 Rose, Dr., no. 
 
 Seward, ito. 
 
 Sheridan, 117, 118. 
 Spenser, 124. 
 
 Swift, 108. 
 
 Thomson, T20. 
 
 Thrale, Mrs., 119, 122. 
 Tonson, 112. 
 
 Walmsley, 112. 
 
 Walton, Isaac, 125. 0 
 
 PART III.— INDEX NOMINUM 
 
 Addison, 129. 
 Arbuthnot, 129. 
 Ascham, 129. 
 
 Bacon, 130. 
 Blackmore, 130. 
 Bolingbroke, 130. 
 Boswell, 130. 
 Browne, 131. 
 
 Bunyan, 131. 
 Burnet, 131. 
 
 Butler, 132. 
 
 Chatterton, 132. 
 Chesterfield, 132. 
 Collins, 133. 
 Congreve, 133. 
 Cowley, 134. 
 
INDICES 
 
 151 
 
 De Foe, 134. 
 Denham, 134. 
 Donne, 134. 
 
 Dryden, 135. 
 
 Fenton, 135. 
 Fielding, 135. 
 
 Gay, 136. 
 Goldsmith, 136. 
 Gray, 136. 
 
 JONSON, 137. 
 
 Junius, 137. 
 
 Milton, 137. 
 Montagu, 138. 
 Montagu, Mrs., 138. 
 
 Otway, 138. 
 
 Parnell, 139. 
 Pope, 139. 
 
 Prior, 140. 
 
 Roscommon, 140. 
 Rowe, 140. 
 
 Savage, 141. 
 Shakespeare, 141. 
 Shenstone, 142. 
 Sheridan, 142. 
 Sterne, 142. 
 
 Swift, 142. 
 
 Temple, 143. 
 Thomson, 143. 
 
 Waller, 143. 
 Warburton, 144. 
 
 Young, 144. 
 
 Edinburgh : T. & A. Constable , Printers to Her Majesty