Winter's Walk," "An Ode," and "To Lyce." None of these pieces were ever acknowledged by Johnson; their signature was indeed used by him sometimes, but it was also used by Hawkesworth, who was then a fellow-contributor to the Gentleman's Magazine, and probably the author of most or all of the poetical pieces published in the Magazine about this period and generally credited to Johnson. A two-fold justice requires the correction of the blunder by means of which these pieces are found among Johnson's writings. No man would more strenuously object to wearing borrowed plumes than would himself while living, and justice to his posthumous reputation demands that his fame be preserved in its truthful integrity. The pieces themselves are also entirely unworthy of the name of the supposed writer.

LORD LOVAT.

In the same connection may be mentioned a short piece on the execution of Lord Lovat, found in the Magazine for April, 1747, which Boswell relates that Johnson would repeat "with great energy," and which, therefore, he suspected was his. Lord Lovat was among the victims of the political troubles of his times; but from the gross viciousness of his life, and the indecent levity with which he met death, he left none to mourn his fate or to cherish his memory. The verses in question are very severe, probably too much so; as will be seen by an extract:

"True to no king, to no religion true,
No fair forgets the ruin he has done;
No child laments the tyrant of his son;
No tory pities, thinking what he was;
No whig compassions, since he left their cause;
The brave regret not, for he was not brave;
The honest mourn not, knowing him a knave."

and execution was most extraordinary. When a principal witness had given in his testimony upon which depended the issue of the trial, the defendant being asked if he had any question to propose to the witness, replied, "I only wish him joy of his young wife;" and after sentence of death had been pronounced against him-in the horrible terms in which sentences for treason are delivered-as he was retiring, he called out, " Fare you well, my lords; we shall not all meet again in one place." At the execution, however, he indulged in no offensive levity, but behaved with great propriety, calling out just at last,-" Dulce et decorum est pro patriâ mori." In the same number of the Magazine is a notice of the execution of Lord Lovat, with reflections upon the indecency of levity in such awful circumstances; this was probably written by Johnson,-the verses bear strong internal evidence of a different origin.

Another event of some interest in the personal history of Johnson occurred in 1747. His early friend, David Garrick, had fairly gotten on the London stage before this date, and now he became joint patentee and chief manager of the Theater Royal of Drury-lane. For the occasion of opening the theater under the new arrangement Johnson prepared a Prologue, to be spoken by Garrick. This merely occasional production strongly indicates the fertility and richness of the mind of the writer, and, as compared with other pieces of the same class, entirely justifies the estimate of Lord Byron, who pronounced this one of the only "two decent prologues in our tongue." It consists of a hasty historical and critical review of the English drama, from the time of Shakspeare, through Ben Jonson's and "the wits of Charles's time" to the period then present, through all of which a steady deterioration is recognized, and the present low condition of the drama confessed. Nor does the prolocutor appear sanguine as to the practicability of the needed reforms. The hopeless enslavement of the stage is confessed by implication, and this is plead as an apology for the probable perpetuation of its unelevated character and condition. about sixty lines, embodies most comprehenThe whole piece, which consists of only sively, and presents with great felicity of

language, the author's notions of both the ideal and the actual of the drama.

The same year is distinguished as the epoch of the public announcement of the forthcoming Dictionary of the English Language, by the publication of the plan and prospectus. When and through what influences he was first led to this great undertaking is uncertain, though it is evident that he had already given the subject a good deal of thought. It is said that some years before this time Dodsley had remarked to him that such a work was needed, and would be well received by the public; to which suggestion he at first listened with apparent interest, but presently replied, "I believe I shall not undertake it." He, however, changed his determination, and probably kept the subject in mind from this time. The plan of the work now laid before the public indicates a comprehensiveness of knowledge and a maturity of judgment that imply a thorough acquaintance with the subject, and evince much study and preparation for the work.

The published "Plan" was itself a pledge and assurance to the public of the author's fitness for the work he had undertaken. "It is worthy of observation," remarks one of his biographers, "that the Plan has not only the substantial merit of comprehension, perspicuity, and precision, but that the language of it is unexceptionably excellent; it being altogether free from that inflation of style, and those uncommon, but apt and energetic words, which in some of his works have been so much censured; and never was there a more dignified strain of compliment than that in which he courts the attention of one who, he had been persuaded to believe, would be a respectable patron." The "Plan" was addressed to Philip Dormer, Earl of Chesterfield, then one of His Majesty's principal secretaries of state; a nobleman well known to be ambitious of the reputation of a patron of learning, who also, upon being informed of the design of this work, had expressed a decided interest in its success. But the association of two characters so utterly unlike as were Johnson and Chesterfield could never be cordial or lasting, as the event in this case proved. The heads of five publishing houses, among whom were Mr. Robert Dodsley and the Messrs. Longman, contracted with Johnson for the work, for which they agreed to pay him fifteen hundred and seventy

He

five pounds-a sum that was very considerably diminished by the expenses incurred in the preparation of the work. To facilitate his labor, he removed his residence from Holborn to Gough-square, in Fleetstreet, where he had an upper room fitted up like a counting-house in which to prosecute his great enterprise. To relieve himself as far as possible of all merely mechanical drudgery, he employed six copyists. But before he could advantageously avail himself of such assistance he must have advanced far in the preparation of the materials of the work. had been unconsciously occupied in doing this all his lifetime. In answer to a question from Boswell, as to how he obtained the knowledge requisite to the production of such a work, he replied: "It was not the effect of any particular study; it grew up in my mind insensibly." He availed himself of whatever helps were offered in the extant works on themes similar to his own, but he chiefly relied upon his own original labors in gathering his materials from the unharvested fields of English literature. Of this part of his labors it has been said: "He began his toil by devoting his first care to a diligent perusal of all such English writers as were most correct in their language; and under every sentence which he meant to quote he drew a line, and noted in the margin the first letter of the word under which it was to occur. He then delivered these books to his clerks, who transcribed each sentence on a separate slip of paper, and arranged the same under the word referred to. By these means he collected the several words and their different significations; and when the whole arrange

ment was alphabetically formed, he gave the definitions of their meanings, and collected their etymologies from Skinner, Junius, and other writers on that subject. In completing his alphabetical arrangement he consulted other Dictionaries, to see if any words had escaped him. It is remarkable that, as Boswell observes, he was so attentive in the choice of the passages in which words were authorized that one may read page after page of his Dictionary with improvement and pleasure; and that he has quoted from no author whose writings had, in his estimation, a tendency to injure religion and good morals." The prosecution of this great undertaking occupied its author-though not to the exclusion of other important literary pursuits -during the next seven years. The history of its publication will occur in its proper chronological place.

In the summer of 1748, to give himself the necessary relaxation from his incessant toils, as well as for the benefit of Mrs. Johnson's health, which had become somewhat impaired, he visited Tunbridge Wells, then among the most frequented of the public watering-places in those parts. Here he met with some of the most celebrated wits of the age-Lords Chatham and Lyttleton, Speaker Onslow, Colly Cibber, and his friend Garrick-by all of whom he was treated with such marked deference as indicated on their part a proper appreciation of his character, which was the more grateful, as, while it was new to him, he felt that it was not undeserved.

The same year we find him engaging in further recreations, and forming certain social relations for which his name is scarcely less celebrated than for his literary labors. To facilitate his intercourse with his literary associates, and, as might be deemed expedient, to admit new members to the select circle of wits of which he was becoming the acknowledged center, he originated a CLUB, to meet weekly, to spend an evening in social and literary conviviality. At its organization this famous body consisted of ten members, of whom, however, only two, Sir John Hawkins and Mr. Hawkesworth, were of the afterward celebrated Johnsonian Symposiasts. At these meetings it was remarked that Johnson made it his rule to talk his best on every subject that came up, and while maintaining his own opinions with constant vehemence he was often in

consistent with himself, not only defending incompatible tenets, but holding directly opposite opinions on the same points at different times. This versatility and inconsistency was no cause of offense to his associates; he was the acknowledged head of the body, and whether as a philosopher among his disciples, or the lord of misrule in the revel, his supremacy was confessed with a tacit but cordial assent. Though in some cases the members of the club seemed to meet as intellectual gladiators, they nevertheless were extremely forbearing toward all diversities of opinion that were entertained among them. Their conversations were confined to no particular class of topics, and their gravest discussions were often enlivened by bursts of wit and sallies of good-natured raillery. In this, no less than in grave arguments, Johnson was the chief contributor to the entertainment; for though he was often a victim of the most terrible melancholy, yet, as is not unfrequently the case with occasional hypochondriacs, he dealt largely in the keenest wit and the most genial humor. These traits of his social character and habits are but faintly indicated in his writings, where he is uniformly serious and in earnest. In the talent of humor, which is the very soul of good-fellowship, he is said to have had few equals; for in conversation he could give to any relation such aids of expression, and so justly discriminate the characters of those about him, that what in writing may seem offensively severe or without point, as uttered by him possessed the highest qualities of conversational excellence. Humor consists much more in the manner than in the substance of expression, and the import of words and sentences is often wholly changed in force and meaning by the manner of their enunciation. These things must be remembered when we attempt to estimate Johnson's social and colloquial abilities.

A DRUNKARD is the annoyance of modesty, the trouble of civility, the spoil of wealth, the distraction of reason. He is only the brewer's agent, the tavern and alehouse benefactor, the beggar's companion, the constable's trouble. He is his wife's woe, his children's sorrow, his own shame. In summer he is a tub of swill, a spirit of sleep, a picture of a beast, and a monster of a man.

prey; suffice it for our present purpose to state that they may be generally recognized by their hooked beaks and stout feet, armed with strong hooked claws. They are among the feathered race what the carnivora, or flesh-devourers, are among beasts; but their destructive propensities, however calculated at first to shock our conceptions of order and harmony, are appointed with regard to the due adjustment of the balance of creation.

Upon some isolated pinnacle, some horrid crag of the Andes, we behold the nest of the condor-that giant among vultures. There she rears her brood, and from thence she surveys the plain far beneath in quest of food. Like the rest of the vulture family, the condor prefers carrion, with which it gorges itself to repletion, so that it becomes incapable of flight, and in this state is easily captured with the lasso of the expert Indian. After some of the eastern battles voracious animals will crowd from all quarters to the field, of which jackals, hyenas, and vultures are the chief; while vast multitudes will be seen in the air flocking to the general carnage. "In some parts of the torrid zone the carrion vultures haunt the towns in immense multitudes. In Carthagena they may be seen sitting on the roofs of the houses, or even stalking slowly along the streets. They

otherwise, by its intolerable stench, render the climate still more unwholesome than it is."

The lammer-geyer, or the bearded or lamb vulture, is described by Cuvier as the largest bird of prey on the continent. It attacks chamois, goats, sheep, marmots, &c., and even man on the edge of a precipice. Sailing on the air, above the summits of the stupendous Alps, it watches till its unwary victim approaches the edge of a precipice, or traverses the pass of a narrow ledge, and then, sudden and impetuous as the avalanche of its native regions, down it rushes, hurling the helpless animal into the abyss below, when, proudly wheeling round by a few gyrations, as if to contemplate the effect of its sanguinary deed, it plunges below to gorge on the yet quivering flesh. Though the bird prefers the fruits of its rapacious prowess, it does not refuse carrion; and it is often seen slowly sweeping along the ground toward the expected banquet. The following anecdote will illustrate its boldness and voracity: "Upon the highest top of the mountain Lamalmon," says a celebrated traveler in Abyssinia, "while my servants were refreshing themselves from that toilsome rugged ascent, and enjoying the pleasure of a most delightful climate, eating their dinner in the outer air, with several dishes

of goat's flesh before them, this enemy, as he turned out to be to them, suddenly appeared; he did not stoop rapidly from a height, but came flying slowly along the ground, and sat down close to the meat, within the ring the men had made round it. A great shout, or rather a cry of distress, called me to the place. I saw the creature stand for a minute, as if to recollect himself; while the servants ran for their lances and shields. I walked up as nearly to him as I had time to do. His attention was fully fixed upon the flesh. There were two large pieces, a leg and a shoulder, lying upon a wooden platter; into these he thrust both his claws, and carried them off; but I thought he still looked wistfully at the large piece which remained in the warm water. Away he went slowly along the ground, as he had come. The face of the cliff over which criminals are thrown took him from our sight." In a few min

THE LAMMER-GEYER.

utes, however, he returned, but he was shot by the traveler before he could procure a second freight.

The golden eagle was once an inhabitant of England; it still occupies the mountains of Scotland and Ireland, and occasionally makes its appearance in Wales. It is extensively spread over the European continent, and we have specimens from India. It has been generally thought to bear the same dominion over the birds which has been attributed to the lion over the quadrupeds. The following points of resemblance are given from Buffon:"Magnanimity is equally conspicuous in

both; they despise the small animals, and disregard their insults. It is only after a series of provocations, after being teased with the noisy or harsh notes of the raven or magpie, that the eagle determines to punish their temerity or their insolence with death. Besides, both disdain the possession of that property which is not the fruit of their own industry; rejecting with contempt the prey which is not procured by their own exertions. Both are remarkable for their temperance. This species seldom devours the whole of his game, but, like the lion, leaves the fragments and offal to the other animals. Though famished for want of prey, he disdains to feed upon carrion. Like the lion also he is solitary, the inhabitant of a desert, over which he reigns supreme, excluding all the other birds from his silent domain. It is more uncommon, perhaps, to see two pairs of eagles in the same tract

of mountain, than two families of lions in the same part of the forest. They separate from each other at such wide intervals as to afford ample range for subsistence; and esteem the value and extent of their dominion to consist in the abundance of the prey with which it is replenished. The eyes of the eagle have the glare of those of the lion, and are nearly of the same color; the claws are of the same shape; the organs of sound are equally powerful, and the cry equally terrible. Destined, both of them, for war and plunder, they are equally fierce, bold, and untractable."

The golden eagle feeds its young with the carcasses of such small animals as lambs, hares, and geese. An Irish countryman, during a summer of famine, obtained a comfortable subsistence for his family out of an eagle's nest, by clipping the wings of the young birds, thus retarding their flight, and tying them so as to increase their cries. This, while it prolonged the attention of the parent birds to their young, also quickened their speed in supplying their wants. It was well for the Irishman that he was not detected by the parents, otherwise he might have met with the fate of a peasant who some years ago