Odyssey. Amidst a thousand entertaining | to me would be truly painful. Why then

MR. MALONE'S ADVERTISEMENTS.

TO THE THIRD EDITION.

through my hands, I am not answerable for | any typographical errors that may be found in it. Having, however, been printed at the very accurate press of Mr. Baldwin, I make no doubt it will be found not less per8th April, 1799.

fect than the former edition; the greatest
care having been taken, by correctness and
elegance, to do justice to one of the most
instructive and entertaining works in the
English language.
EDM. MALONE.

TO THE FOURTH EDITION.

necessary to say more; yet I cannot refrain
from adding, that, highly as it is now esti-
mated, it will, I am confident, be still more
valued by posterity a century hence, when
all the actors in the scene shall be numbered
with the dead; when the excellent and ex-
traordinary man, whose wit and wisdom
are here recorded, shall be viewed at a still
greater distance; and the instruction and
entertainment they afford will at once pro-
duce reverential gratitude, admiration, and
delight 1.
E. M.

In this edition are inserted some new let- | sand copies have been dispersed, it is not ters, of which the greater part has been obligingly communicated by the Rev. Dr. Vyse, Rector of Lambeth. Those written by Dr. Johnson, concerning his mother in her last illness, furnish a new proof of his great piety and tenderness of heart, and therefore cannot but be acceptable to the readers of this very popular work. Some new notes also have been added, which, as well as the observations inserted in the third edition, and the letters now introduced, are carefully included within crotchets, that the authour may not be answerable for any thing which had not the sanction of his approbation. The remarks of his friends are distinguished as formerly, except those of Mr. Malone, to which the letter M. is now subjoined. Those to which the letter K. is affixed were communicated by my learned friend, the Rev. Dr. Kearney, formerly senior Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin, and now beneficed in the diocess of Raphoe, in Ireland, of which he is archdea

con.

1

20th June, 1804.

and a sixth in 1811; Mr. Chalmers a seventh in [Mr. Malone published a fifth edition in 1807, 1822; and an anonymous editor another, in Oxford, in 1826. Of publications so recent, the editor would not have felt justified in making an unpermitted use; but in fact there was little to be borrowed from any of them, except that of Mr. Chalmers; and his liberality, by pointing out such of the original sources of information as the editor had not himself previously discovered, has enabled him to complete this edition with all the information which Mr. Chalmers could afford.

Of a work which has been before the publick for thirteen years with increasing approbation, and of which near four thou- | ED.]

MR. BOSWELL'S INTRODUCTION.

To write the Life of him who excelled all | though he at different times, in a desultory mankind in writing the lives of others, and manner, committed to writing many parwho, whether we consider his extraordina- ticulars of the progress of his mind and forry endowments, or his various works, has tunes, he never had persevering diligence been equalled by few in any age, is an ardu- enough to form them into a regular compoous, and may be reckoned in me a presump-sition. Of these memorials a few have been tuous task.

Had Dr. Johnson written his own Life, in conformity with the opinion which he has given2, that every man's life may be best written by himself; had he employed in the preservation of his own history, that clearness of narration and elegance of language in which he has embalmed so many eminent persons, the world would probably have had the most perfect example of biography that was ever exhibited. But al

* Idler, No. 84.-BOSWELL.

preserved; but the greater part was consigned by him to the flames, a few days before his death.

As I had the honour and happiness of enjoying his friendship for upwards of twenty years; as I had the scheme of writing his life constantly in view; as he was well apprised of this circumstance, and from time to time obligingly satisfied my inquiries, by communicating to me the incidents of his early years; as I acquired a facility in recollecting, and was very assiduous in recording, his conversation, of which the extraor

dinary vigour and vivacity constituted one |
of the first features of his character; and as
I have spared no pains in obtaining materi-
als concerning him, from every quarter
where I could discover that they were to
be found, and have been favoured with the
most liberal communications by his friends;
I flatter myself that few biographers have
entered upon such a work as this with more
advantages; independent of literary abilities,
in which I am not vain enough to compare
myself with some great names who have
gone before me in this kind of writing.

Since my work was announced, several Lives and Memoirs of Dr. Johnson have been published, the most voluminous of which is one compiled for the booksellers of London, by Sir John Hawkins, Knt.1, a man, whom, during my long intimacy with Dr. Johnson, I never saw in his company, I think, but once, and I am sure not above twice. Johnson might have esteemed him for his decent, religious demeanour, and his knowledge of books and literary history; but from the rigid formality of his manners, it is evident that they never could have lived together with companionable ease and familiarity; nor had Sir John Hawkins that nice perception which was necessary to mark the finer and less obvious parts of Johnson's character. His being appointed one of his executors gave him an opportunity of taking possession of such fragments of a diary and other papers as were left; of which, before delivering them up to the residuary legatee, whose property they were, he endeavoured to extract the substance. In this he has not been very successful, as I have found upon a perusal of those papers, which have been since transferred to me. Sir John Hawkins's ponderous labours, I must acknowledge, exhibit a farrago, of which a considerable portion is not devoid of entertainment to the lovers of literary

wri

gossiping; but besides its being swelled out with long unnecessary extracts from various works (even one of several leaves from Osborne's Harleian Catalogue, and those not compiled by Johnson, but by Oldys), a very small part of it relates to the person who is the subject of the book; and in that there is such an inaccuracy in the statement of facts, as in so solemn an authour is hardly excusable, and certainly makes his narrative very unsatisfactory. But what is still worse, there is throughout the whole of it a dark uncharitable cast, by which the most unfavourable construction is put upon almost every circumstance in the character and conduct of my illustrious friend; who, I trust, will, by a true and fair delineation, be vindicated both from the injurious misrepresentations of this authour, and from the slighter aspersions of a lady who once lived in great intimacy with him.

There is, in the British Museum, a letter from Bishop Warburton to Dr. Birch, on the subject of biography; which, though I am aware it may expose me to a charge of artfully raising the value of my own work, by contrasting it with that of which I have spoken, is so well conceived and expressed, that I cannot refrain from here inserting it.

"24th Nov. 1737.

"I shall endeavour," says Dr. Warburton, "to give you what satisfaction I can in any thing you want to be satisfied in any subject of Milton, and am extremely glad you intend to write his life. Almost all the life-writers we have had before Toland and Desmaiseaux, are indeed strange insipid creatures; and yet I had rather read the worst of them, than be obliged to go through with this of Milton's, or the other's life of Boileau, where there is such a dull, heavy succession of long quotations of disinteresting passages, that it makes their method quite nauseous. But the verbose, tasteless Frenchman, seems to lay it down as a principle, that every life must be a book; and what's worse, it proves a book without a life; for what do we know of Boileau, after all his tedious stuff? You are the only that by the vigour of your style and sentione (and I speak it without a compliment), ments, and the real importance of your materials, have the art (which one would imthe agreements to the most agreeable subagine no one could have missed) of adding ject in the world, which is literary history 2."

The greatest part of this book was written while Sir John Hawkins was alive; and I avow, that one object of my strictures was to make him feel some compunction for his illiberal treatment of Dr. Johnson. Since his decease, I have suppressed several of my remarks upon his work. But though I would not "war with the dead" offensively, I think it necessary to be strenuous in defence of my illustrious friend, which I cannot be, without strong animadversions upon a ter who has greatly injured him. Let me add, that though I doubt I should not have been very prompt to gratify Sir John Hawkins with any compliment in his lifetime, I do now frankly acInstead of melting down my materials knowledge, that, in my opinion, his volume, how-into one mass, and constantly speaking in ever inadequate and improper as a life of Dr. Johnson, and however discredited by unpardonable inaccuracies in other respects, contains a collection of curious anecdotes and observations, which few men but its author could have brought together. Boswell.

my own person, by which I might have appeared to have more merit in the execution of the work, I have resolved to adopt and

2 British Museum, 4320, Ayscough's Catal. Sloane MSS.-BOSWELL.

inently instructive and entertaining; and of which the specimens that I have given upon a former occasion have been received with so much approbation, that I have good grounds for supposing that the world will not be indifferent to more ample communications of a similar nature.

enlarge upon the excellent plan of Mr. Ma- | tains of Johnson's conversation, which is son, in his Memoirs of Gray. Wherever universally acknowledged to have been emnarrative is necessary to explain, connect and supply, I furnish it to the best of my abilities; but in the chronological series of Johnson's life, which I trace as distinctly as I can, year by year, I produce, wherever it is in my power, his own minutes, letters, or conversation, being convinced that this mode is more lively, and will make my readers better acquainted with him than even most of those were who actually knew him, but could know him only partially; whereas there is here an accumulation of intelligence from various points, by which his character is more fully understood and il-moirs of Mr. William Whitehead, in lustrated.

That the conversation of a celebrated man, if his talents have been exerted in conversation, will best display his character, is, I trust, too well established in the judgment of mankind to be at all shaken by a sneering observation of Mr. Mason, in his mewhich there is literally no life, but a mere dry narrative of facts. I do not think it was quite necessary to attempt a depreciation of what is universally esteemed, because it was not to be found in the immediate object of the ingenious writer's pen; for in truth, from a man so still and so tame, as to be contented to pass many years as the domestick companion of a superannuated lord and lady, conversation could no more be expected than from a Chinese mandarin on a chimneypiece, or the fantastick figures on a gilt leather skreen.

Indeed I cannot conceive a more perfect mode of writing any man's life, than not only relating all the most important events of it in their order, but interweaving what he privately wrote, and said, and thought; by which mankind are enabled as it were to see him live, and to “live o'er each scene" with him, as he actually advanced through the several stages of his life. Had his other friends been as diligent and ardent as I was, he might have been almost entirely preserved. As it is, I will venture to say that he will be seen in this work more com- If authority be required, let us appeal to pletely than any man who has ever yet lived. Plutarch, the prince of ancient biographers. And he will be seen as he really was; for Ουτε ταις επιφανεσταταις πράξεσι παντως I profess to write not his panegyrick, which dois agerns a maniaS αλλα πραγμα βραχυ must be all praise, but his life, which, great πολλακις, και ρημα, και παιδία τις εμφασιν ήθους and good as he was, must not be supposed εποίησεν μάλλον η μαχαι μυριονεκροί, παρατάξεις αν to be entirely perfect. To be as he was, is μεγισται, και πολιορκια πολεαν. "Nor is it alindeed subject of panegyrick enough to any ways in the most distinguished achieveman in this state of being; but in every pic-ments that men's virtues or vices may be best ture there should be shade as well as light, and when I delineate him without reserve, I do what he himself recommended, both by his precept and his example.

EVETTL

discerned; but very often an action of small note, a short saying, or a jest, shall distinguish a person's real character more than the greatest sieges or the most important battles 2."

"If the biographer writes from personal knowledge, and makes haste to gratify the To this may be added the sentiments of publick curiosity, there is danger lest his in- the very man whose life I am about to exhiterest, his fear, his gratitude, or his tender- bit. "The business of the biographer is ness, overpower his fidelity, and tempt him often to pass slightly over those performto conceal, if not to invent. There are ances and incidents which produce vulgar many who think it an act of piety to hide greatness, to lead the thoughts into domesthe faults or failings of their friends, even tick privacies, and display the minute details when they can no longer suffer by their de- of daily life, where exteriour appendages tection; we therefore see whole ranks of are cast aside, and men excel each other oncharacters adorned with uniform panegy-ly by prudence and by virtue. The account rick, and not to be known from one another but by extrinsick and casual circumstances. Let me remember,' says Hale, when I find myself inclined to pity a criminal, that there is likewise a pity due to the country.' If we owe regard to the memory of the dead, there is yet more respect to be paid to knowledge, to virtue, and to truth 1.”

What I consider as the peculiar value of the following work, is the quantity it con

'Rambler, No. 60.-Boswell.

of Thuanus is with great propriety said by its authour to have been written, that it might lay open to posterity the private and familiar character of that man, cujus ingenium et candorem ex ipsius scriptis sunt olim semper miraturi, whose candour and genius will to the end of time be by his writings preserved in admiration.

"There are many invisible circumstances

2 Plutarch's Life of Alexander-Langhorne's translation.-BOSWELL.

which, whether we read as inquirers after | sation, and how happily it is adapted for

natural or moral knowledge, whether we in- the petty exercise of ridicule, by men of tend to enlarge our science or increase superficial understanding, and ludicrous our virtue, are more important than publick fancy; but I remain firm and confident in Occurrences. Thus Sallust, the great mas- my opinion, that minute particulars are ter of nature, has not forgotten, in his ac- frequently characteristic, and always amucount of Catiline, to remark, that his walk sing, when they relate to a distinguished was now quick, and again slow, as an indi- man. I am therefore exceedingly unwilling cation of a mind revolving with violent that any thing, however slight, which my commotion. Thus the story of Melancthon illustrious friend thought it worth his while affords a striking lecture on the value of to express, with any degree of point, should time, by informing us, that when he had perish. For this almost superstitious revmade an appointment, he expected not on-erence, I have found very old and venerable ly the hour, but the minute to be fixed, that the day might not run out in the idleness of suspense; and all the plans and enterprises of De Wit are now of less importance to the world than that part of his personal character, which represents him as careful of his health, and negligent of his life.

"But biography has often been allotted to writers, who seem very little acquainted with the nature of their task, or very negligent about the performance. They rarely afford any other account than might be collected from publick papers, but imagine themselves writing a life, when they exhibit a chronological series of actions or preferments; and have so little regard to the manners or behaviour of their heroes, that more knowledge may be gained of a man's real character, by a short conversation with one of his servants, than from a formal and studied narrative, begun with his pedigree, and ended with his funeral.

authority, quoted by our great modern prelate, Secker, in whose tenth sermon there is the following passage:

"Rabbi David Kimchi, a noted Jewish commentator, who lived about five hundred years ago, explains that passage in the first psalm, 'His leaf also shall not wither,' from Rabbins yet older than himself, thus: That even the idle talk, so he expresses it, of a good man ought to be regarded; the most superfluous things he saith are always of some value. And other ancient authours have the same phrase, nearly in the same sense."

Of one thing I am certain, that considering how highly the small portion which we have of the table-talk and other anecdotes of our celebrated writers is valued, and how earnestly it is regretted that we have not more, I am justified in preserving rather too many of Johnson's sayings, than too few; especially as from the diversity of dispositions it cannot be known with certainty beforehand, whether what may seem trifling to some, and perhaps to the collector himself, may not be most agreeable to many; and the greater number that an authour can please in any degree, the more pleasure does there arise to a benevolent mind.

"There are, indeed, some natural reasons why these narratives are often written by such as were not likely to give much instruction or delight, and why most accounts of particular persons are barren and useless. If a life be delayed till interest and envy are at an end, we may hope for To those who are weak enough to think impartiality, but must expect little intelli- this a degrading task, and the time and lagence; for the incidents which give excel- bour which have been devoted to it misemlence to biography are of a volatile and ev-ployed, I shall content myself with opposing anescent kind, such as soon escape the memory, and are rarely transmitted by tradition. We know how few can pourtray a living acquaintance, except by his most prominent and observable particularities, and the grosser features of his mind; and it may be easily imagined how much of this little knowledge may be lost in imparting it, and how soon a succession of copies will lose all resemblance of the original 1."

I am fully aware of the objections which may be made to the minuteness on some occasions of my detail of Johnson's conver

1 Rambler, No. 60.—Boswell.

the authority of the greatest man of any age, Julius Cæsar, of whom Bacon observes, that "in his book of apophthegms which he collected, we see that he esteemed it more honour to make himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and pithy words of others, than to have every word of his own to be made an apophthegm or an oracle 2."

Having said thus much by way of introduction, I commit the following pages to the candour of the publick.

Bacon's "Advancement of Learning," Book I.-BOSWELL.