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degree, before he came to London as an adventurer in literature. He told me, that when he first saw St. John's Gate, the place where that deservedly popular miscellany was originally printed, he "beheld it with reverence." I suppose, indeed, that every young author has had the same kind of feeling for the magazine or periodical publication which has first entertained him, and in which he has first had an opportunity to see himself in print, without the risk of exposing his name. I myself recollect such impressions from the Scots Magazine," which was begun at Edinburgh in the year 1739, and has been ever conducted with judgment, accuracy, and propriety. I yet cannot help thinking of it with an affectionate regard. Johnson has dignified the "Gentleman's Magazine" by the importance with which he invests the life of Cave; but he has given it still greater lustre by the various admirable essays which he wrote for it.

Though Johnson was often solicited by his friends to make a complete list of his writings, and talked of doing it, I believe with a serious intention that they should all be collected on his own account, he put it off from year to year, and at last died without having done it perfectly. I have one in his own handwriting, which contains a certain number; I indeed doubt if he could have remembered every one of them, as they were so numerous, so various, and scattered in such a multiplicity of unconnected publications; nay, several of them published under the names of other persons, to whom he liberally contributed from the abundance of his mind. We must, therefore, be content to discover them, partly from occasional information given by him to his friends, and partly from internal evidence.1

His first performance in the "Gentleman's Magazine," which for many years was his principal source of employment and support, was a copy of Latin verses, in March,

1 While, in the course of my narrative, I enumerate his writings, I shall take care that my readers shall not be left to waver in doubt, between certainty and conjecture, with regard to their authenticity, and for that purpose shall mark with an asterisk (*) those which he acknowledged to his friends, and with a dagger (†) those which are ascertained to be his by internal evidence. When any other pieces are ascribed to him I shall give my reasons.

1738, addressed to the editor in so happy a style of compliment, that Cave must have been destitute both of taste and sensibility, had he not felt himself highly gratified.

Ad URBANUM.*

URBANE, nullis fesse laboribus,
URBANE, nullis victe calumniis,
Cui fronte sertum in eruditâ
Perpetuò viret et virebit;

Quid moliatur gens imitantium,
Quid et minetur, solicitus parùm,
Vacare solis perge Musis,

Juxta animo studiisque felix.

Linguæ procacis plumbea spicula,
Fidens, superbo frange silentio ;
Victrix per obstantes catervas
Sedulitas animosa tendet.

Intende nervos, fortis, inanibus
Risurus olim nisibus æmuli;
Intende jam nervos, habebis
Participes operæ Camœnas.

Non ulla Musis pagina gratior,
Quam quæ severis ludicra jungere
Novit, fatigatamque nugis
Utilibus recreare mentem.

Texente Nymphis serta Lycoride,
Rosæ ruborem sic viola adjuvat
Immista, sic Iris refulget

Æthereis variata fucis.1

S. J.

1 A translation of this Ode, by an unknown correspondent, appeared in the Magazine for the month of May following.

"Hail Urban! indefatigable man,

Unwearied yet by all thy useful toil!
Whom num'rous slanderers assault in vain;
Whom no base calumny can put to foil.

But still the laurel on thy learned brow
Flourishes fair, and shall for ever grow.

It appears that he was now enlisted by Mr. Cave as a regular coadjutor in his Magazine, by which he probably obtained a tolerable livelihood. At what time, or by what means, he had acquired a competent knowledge both of French and Italian, I do not know; but he was so well skilled in them, as to be sufficiently qualified for a translator. That part of his labour which consisted in emendation and improvement of the productions of other contributers, like that employed in levelling ground, can be perceived only by those who had an opportunity of comparing the original with the altered copy. What we certainly know to have been done by him in this way was the debates in both houses of Parliament, under the name of "The Senate of Lilliput," sometimes with feigned deno

"What mean the servile, imitating crew,

What their vain blust'ring, and their empty noise,
Ne'er seek but still thy noble ends pursue,
Unconquer'd by the rabble's venal voice.

Still to the Muse thy studious mind apply,
Happy in temper as in industry.

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The senseless sneerings of an haughty tongue,
Unworthy thy attention to engage,

Unheeded pass: and tho' they mean thee wrong,
By manly silence disappoint their rage.
Assiduous diligence confounds its foes,
Resistless, tho' malicious crowds oppose.

"Exert thy powers, nor slacken in the course,
Thy spotless fame shall quash all false reports:
Exert thy powers, nor fear a rival's force,

But thou shalt smile at all his vain efforts;
Thy labours shall be crowned with large success:
The Muses' aid thy magazine shall bless.
"No page more grateful to th' harmonious Nine,
Than that wherein thy labours we survey,
Where solemn themes in fuller splendour shine.
(Delightful mixture,) blended with the gay,
Where in improving, various joys we find,
A welcome respite to the wearied mind.

"Thus when the nymphs in some fair verdant mead,
Of various flow'rs a beauteous wreath compose,

The lovely violet's azure-painted head

Adds lustre to the crimson blushing rose.

Thus splendid Iris, with her varied dye,

Shines in the aether, and adorns the sky."-Briton.

minations of the several speakers, sometimes with denominations formed of the letters of their real names in the manner of what is called anagram, so that they might easily be deciphered. Parliament then kept the press in a kind of mysterious awe, which made it necessary to have recourse to such devices. In our time it has acquired an unrestrained freedom, so that the people in all parts of the kingdom have a fair, open, and exact report of the actual proceedings of their representatives and legislators, which in our constitution is highly to be valued; though, unquescionably, there has of late been too much reason to complain of the petulance with which obscure scribblers have presumed to treat men of the most respectable character and situation.

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This important article of the "Gentleman's Magazine' was, for several years, executed by Mr. William Guthrie, a man who deserves to be respectably recorded in the literary annals of this country. He was descended of an ancient family in Scotland; but having a small patrimony, and being an adherent of the unfortunate house of Stuart, he could not accept of any office in the State; he therefore came to London, and employed his talents and learning as an "author by profession." His writings in history, criticism, and politics, had considerable merit.' He was the first English historian who had recourse to that authentic source of information, the "Parliamentary Journals; and such was the power of his political pen, that, at an early period, government thought it worth while to keep it quiet with a pension," which he enjoyed till his death. Johnson esteemed him enough to wish that his life should be written. The debates in Parliament, which were brought home and digested by Guthrie, whose memory, though surpassed by others who have since followed him in the same department, was yet very quick and tenacious, were

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1 How much poetry he wrote I know not; but he informed me that he was the author of the beautiful little piece, The Eagle and Robin Redbreast, in the collection of poems entitled, The Union, though it is there said to be written by Alexander Scott, before the year 1600.

2 See, in D'Israeli's Calamities of Authors, vol. i., p. 5, a letter from Guthrie to the minister, dated June 3rd, 1762, stating that a pension of £200 a-year had been "regularly and quarterly" paid him ever since the year 1745-6. Guthrie was born at Brechin, in 1708, and died in 1770.-Croker.

sent by Cave to Johnson for his revision; and after some time, when Gutherie had attained to greater variety of employment, and the speeches were more and more enriched by the accession of Johnson's genius, it was resolved that he should do the whole himelf, from the scanty notes furnished by persons employed to attend in both houses of Parliament. Sometimes, however, as he himself told me, he had nothing more communicated to him than the names of the several speakers, and the part which they had taken in the debate.

Thus was Johnson employed during some of the best years of his life, as a mere literary labourer "for gain, not glory," solely to obtain an honest support. He, however, indulged himself in occasional little sallies, which the French so happily express by the term jeux d'esprit, and which will be noticed in their order, in the progress of this work.

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But what first displayed his transcendent powers, and gave the world assurance of the man," was his "London, a Poem, in imitation of the third Satire of Juvenal;" which came out in May this year, and burst forth with a splendour, the rays of which will for ever encircle his name. Boileau had imitated the same satire with great success, applying it to Paris; but an attentive comparison will satisfy every reader, that he is much excelled by the English Juvenal.' Oldham 2 had also imitated it, and applied it to

It is hardly fair to compare the poems in this antagonist way: Boileau's was a mere badinage, complaining of, or rather laughing at, the personal dangers and inconveniences of Paris. Johnson's main object, like Juvenal's, was to satirize gravely, the moral depravity of an overgrown city.-Croker.

2 John Oldham, whose Satires against the Jesuits gained him the appellation of "the English Juvenal," was born in 1653, and died in 1683, in his thirtieth year. At one period of his life he was a perfect votary of the bottle. In a letter (now in the Bodleian Library) written by him to one of his companions, after he had retired from London, he says, "Thou knowest, Jack, there was never a more unconcerned coxcomb than myself once; but experience and thinking have made me quit that humour. I think virtue and sobriety (how much soever the men of wit may turn 'em into ridicule) the only measures to be happy, and believe the feast of a good conscience the best treat that can make a true epicure. I find I retain all the briskness, airiness, and gaiety I had, but purged from the dross and lees of debauchery; and am as merry as ever, though not so mad."-Wright.

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