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Reality, as they stand written for us in Professor far that your Machinery' is avowedly niecha Gottfried Sauerteig's Æsthetische Springuürzel: nical and unbelieved.--ithat is it else, if we a Work, perhaps, as yet new to most English dare tell ourselves the truth, but a miserable, readers. The Professor and Doctor is not a meaningless Deception kept up by old use and man whom we can praise without reservation; wont alone? If the gods of an Iliad are to us neither shall we say that his Springuürzel (a sort no longer authentic Shapes of Terror, heartof magical pick-locks, as he affectedly names stirring, heart-appalling, but only vague-glitthem) are adequate to "stari" every bolt that tering Shadows,—what must the dead Pa. locks up an æsthetic mystery; nevertheless, in gan gods of an Epigoniad be, the dead-living nis crabbed, one-sided way, he sometimes hits Pagan-Christian gods of a Lusiad, the concretemasses of the truth. We endeavour to trans- abstract, evangelical-metaphysical gods of a late faithfully, and trust the reader will find it Paradise Lost? Superannuated lumber! Cast worth serious perusal:
raiment, at best; in which some poor mime, “ The significance, even for poetic purposes,” strutting and swaggering, may or may not set says Sauerteig, “ that lies in Reality, is too forth new noble Human Feelings, (again a Reaapt to escape us; is perhaps only now begin- lity,) and so secure, or not secure, our pardon ning to be discerned. When we named Rous- of such hoydenish masking,—for which, in any sau's Confessions an elegiaco-didactic Poem, we case, he has a pardon to ask. meant more than an empty figure of speech; " True enough, none but the earliest Epic we meant an historical scientific fact,
Poems can claim this distinction of entire cre* Fiction, while the feigner of it knows that dibility, of Reality: after an Iliad, a Shaster, a he is feigning, partakes, more than we suspect, Koran, and other the like primitive performof the nature of lying; and has ever an, in some ances, the rest seem, by this rule of mine, to be degree, unsatisfactory character. All Mytho- altogether excluded from the list. Accordingly, logies were once Philosophies; were believed: what are all the rest from Virgil's Æneid downthe Epic Poems of old time, so long as they wards, in comparison ?-Frosty, artificial, hecontinued epic, and had any complete impres- terogeneous things; more of gumflowers than siveness, were Histories, and understood to be of roses; at best, of the tivo mixed incoherently parratives of facts. In so far as Homer em- together: to some of which, indeed, it were ployed his gods as mere ornamental fringes, hard to deny the title of Poems; yet to no one and had not himself, or at least did not expect of which can that title belong in any sense even his hearers to have, a belief that they were resembling the old high one it, in those old days, real agents in those antique doings; so far did conveyed, when the epithet “divine' or sahe fail to be genuine; so far was he a partially cred,' as applied to the uttered Word of man, kollow and false singer; and sang to please only was not a vain metaphor, a vain sound, but a a portion of man's mind, not the whole thereof. real name with meaning. Thus, too, the farther
- Imagination is, after all, but a poor matter we recede from those early days, when Poetry, when it must part company with Understand as true Poetry is always, was still sacred or ing, and even front it hostilely in flat contra- divine, and inspired, (what ours, in great part, diction. Our mind is divided in twain: there only pretends to be,)—the more impossible is contest; wherein that which is weaker must becomes it to produce any, we say not true needs come to the worse. Now of all feelings, Poetry, but tolerable semblance of such; the states, principles, call it what you will, in man's hollower, in particular, grow all manner of mind, is not Belief the clearest, strongest; Epics; till at length, as in this generation, the against which all others contend in vain ? very name of Epic sets men a-yawning, the Belief is, indeed, the beginning and first con- announcement of a new Epic is received as a dition of all spiritual Force whatsoever: only public calamily. in so far as Imagination, were it but momen- “But what is the impossible being once for all tarily, is believed, can there be any use or mean- quite discarded, the probable be well adhered to ; ing in it, any enjoyment of it. And what is how stands it with fiction then? Why, then, I momentary Belief? The enjoyment of a mo- would say, the evil is much mended, but noment. Whereas a perennial Belief were en- wise completely cured. We have then, in place joyment perennially, and with the whole united of the wholly dead modern Epic, the partially soul.
living modern Novel; to which latter it is much * It is thus that I judge of the Supernatural easier to lend thai above-mentioned, so essenin an Epic Poem; and would say, the instant lial.momentary credence,' than to the former: it had ceased to be authentically supernatural, indeed infinitely easier : for the former being and become what you call Machinery;' sweep flatly incredible, no mortal cun for a moment it out of sight (schaff’es mir vom Halse)! Of a credit it, for a moment enjoy it. Thus, here truth, that same 'Machinery,' about which the and there, a Tom Jones, a Neister, a Crusoe, will critics make such hubbub, was well named yield no little solacement to the minds of men : Machinery; for it is in very deed mechanical, no- though still immeasurably less than a Reality wise inspired or poetical. Neither for us is would, were the significance thereof as imthere the smallest æsthetic enjoyment in it; pressively unfolded, were the genius that could save only in this way: that we believe it to have so unfold it once given us by the kind Heavens. been believed, -by the Singer or his Hearers; into Neither say thou that proper Realities are whose case we now laboriously struggle to wanting: for Man's Life, now as of old, is the transport ourselves; and so, with stinted genuine work of God; wherever there is a enough result, catch some reflex of the Rea- Man, a God also is revealed, and all that is God. lity, which for them was wholly real, and vi- like: a whole epitome of the Infinite, with its sible face to face. Whenever it has come so meanings, lies enfolded in the Life of every Man. Only, alas, that the Seer to discern this | Truth, what we can call a Revelation; which same Godlike, and with fit utterance unfold it last does undoubtedly transcend all other po for us, is wanting, and may long be wanting! etic efforts, nor can Herr Sauerteig be too
“Nay, a question arises on us here, wherein loud in its praises. But, on the other hand, the whole German reading-world will eagerly whether such effort is still possible for man, join: Whether man can any longer be so in- Herr Sauerteig and the bulk of the world are terested by the spoken Word, as he often was probably at issue,-and will probably continue in those primeval days, when, rapt away by its till that same “ Revelation" or new " Inveninscrutable power, he pronounced it, in such tion of Reality," of the sort he desiderates, dialect as he had, to be transcendental, (10 shall itself make its appearance. transcend all measure,) to be sacred, prophetic, Meanwhile, quilling these airy regions, let and the inspiration of a god? For myself, I, any one bethink him how impressive the (ich meines Ortes,) by faith or by insight, do smallest historical fact may become, as conheartily understand that the answer to such trasted with the grandest fictitious erent ; what question will be, Yea! For never, that I could an incalculable force lies for us in this consiin searching find out, has Man been, by Time deration : The Thing which I here bold imaged which devours so much, deprivated of any fa- in my mind did actually occur ; was, in very culty whatsoever that he in any era was pos- truth, an element in the system of the All, sessed of. To my seeming, the babe born yester whereof I too form part; had therefore, and day has all the organs of Body, Soul, and Spirit, has, through all time, an authentic being; is and in exactly the same combination and entire- not a dream, but a reality! We ourselves can ness, that the oldest Pelasgic Greek, or Meso- remember reading in Lord Clarendon, with feel. potamian Patriarch, or Father Adam himself ings perhaps somehow accidentally opened to could boast of. Ten fingers, one heart with it,-certainly with a depth of impression venous and arterial blood therein, still belong strange to us then and now,—that insignifi. to man that is born of woman: when did he cant looking passage, where Charles, after the lose any of his spiritual Endowments either: battle of Worcester, glides down, with Squire above all, his highest spiritual Endowment, that Careless, from the Royal Oak, at nigbl-fall, of revealing Poetic Beauty, and of adequately being hungry: how, “making a shili to get receiving the same? Not the material, not the over hedges and ditches, after walking at least susceptibility is wanting; only the poet, or long eight or nine miles, which were the more series of Poets, to work on these. True, alas grievous to the King by the weight of his too true, the Poet is still utterly wanting, or all boots, (for he could not put them off, when he but utterly: nevertheless have we not centuries cut off his hair, for want of shoes,) before enough before us to produce him in ? Him and morning they came to a poor coltuge, the oioner much else!-I, for the present, will but predict whereof being a Roman Catholic was known to Care that chiefly by working more and more on less." How this poor drudge, being knocked Reality, and evolving more and more wisely up from his snoring, “ carried them into a litits inexhaustible meanings; and, in brief, speak tle barn full of hay, which was a better lodging forth in fit utterance whatsoever our whole ing than he had for himself;" and by and by, soul believes, and ceasing to speak forth what not without difficulty, brought his Majesty “a thing soever our whole soul does not believe,- piece of bread and a great pot of butter-milk," will this high emprise be accomplished, or ap- saying candidly that he himself lived by his proximated to.”
daily labour, and that what he had brought These notable, and not unfounded, though him was the fare he and his wife had :" ca partial and deep-seeing rather than wide-seeing which nourishing diet his Majesiy, “staying observations on the great import of REALITY, upon the haymow,” feeds thankfully for two considered even as a poetic material, we have days; and then departs, under new guidance, inserted the more willingly, because a tran- having first changed clothes dowu to the very sient feeling to the same purpose may often shirt and “old pair of shoes," with his land. have suggested itself to many readers; and, lord; and so as worthy Bunyan has it, "goes on the whole, it is good that every reader and on his way, and sees him no more."* Singu. every writer understand, with all'intensity of lar enough if we will think of it! This then conviction, what quite infinite worth lies in was a genuine Aesh-and-blood Rustic of the Truth ; how all-pervading, omnipotent, in year 1651: he did actually swallow bread and man's mind, is the thing we name Belief. For butter-milk (not having ale and bacon.) and the rest, Herr Sauerteig, though one-sided, on do field labour; with these hob-nailed “shoes" this matter of Reality, seems heartily per- has sprawled through mud-roads in winter, suaded, and is not perhaps so ignorant as he and, jocund or not, driven his team a-field in looks. It cannot be unknown to him, for ex- summer; he made bargains; had chafferings ample, what noise is made about " Invention ;" and higglings, now a sore heart, now a glad what a supreme rank this faculty is reckoned one; was born ; was a son, was a father;to hold in the poetic endowment. Great truly toiled in many ways, being forced to it, till the is Invention ; nevertheless, that is but a poor strength was all worn ont of him: and thenexercise of it with which Belief is not con- lay down “ to rest his galled back," and sleep cerned. “ An Irishman with whisky in his there till the long-distant morning !-How head,” as poor Byron said, will invent you, in comes it, that he alone of all the British rusthis kind, till there is enough and to spare. tics who tilled and lived along with him, Nay, perhaps, if we consider well, the highest on whom the blessed sun on thai same “fifth exercise of Invention has, in very deed, nothing to do with Fiction ; but is an invention of new :
* History of the Rebellion, iii. 625.
day of September” was shining, should have for himself what it is that gives such pitiful inchanced to rise on us; that this poor pair of cidents their memorableness; his aim likewise clouted Shoes, out of a million million hides is, above all things, to be memorable. Half the that have been tanned, and cut, and worn, effect, we already perceive, depends on the should still subsist, and hang visibly together? object, on its being real, on its being really seen. We see him but for a moment; for one mo- The other half will depend on the observer; ment, the blanket of the Night is rent asun- and the question now is: How are real objects der, so that we behold and see, and then to be so seen; on what quality of observing, or closes over him--for ever.
of style in describing, does this so intense picSo too, in some Boswell's Life of Johnson, how torial power depend? Often a slight circumindelible, and magically brighi, does many a stance contributes curiously to the result: some little Reality dwell in our remembrance ! little, and perhaps to appearance accidental, fea. There is no need that the personages on the ture is presented; a light-gleam, which instanscene be a King and Clown; that the scene taneously excites the mind, and urges it to com. be the Forest of the Royal Oak, “on the bor- plete the picture, and evolve the meaning, ders of Staffordshire :" need only that the thereof for itself. By critics, such light-gleams scene lie on this old firm Earth of ours, where and their almost magical influence have free we also have so surprisingly arrived; that the quently been noted: but the power to produce personages be men, and seen with the eyes of a such, to select such features as will produce man. Foolish enough, how some slight, per- them, is generally treated as a knack, or trick haps mean and even ugly incident-if real, and of the trade, a secret for being “graphic;" well presented—will fix itself in a susceptive whereas these magical feats are, in truth, memory, and lie ennobled there; silvered over rather inspirations; and the gift of performing with the pale cast of thought, with the pathos them, which acts unconsciously, without fore. which belongs only to the Dead. For the thought, and as if by nature alone, is properly Past is all holy to us; the Dead are all holy, a genius for description. even they that were base and wicked while One grand, invaluable secret there is, howalive. Their baseness and wickedness was ever, which includes all the rest, and, what is not They, was but the heavy unmanageable comfortable, lies clearly in every man's power: Environment that lay round them, with which to have an open, loving heart, and what follows they fought unprevailing : they (the ethereal from the possession of such! Truly has ii been God-given Force that dwelt in them, and was said, emphatically in these days ought it to be their Self ) have now shuffled off that heavy repeated: A loving heart is the beginning of Environment, and are free and pure : their all Knowledge. This it is that opens the whole life-long Battle, go how it might, is all ended, mind, quickens every faculty of the intellect to with many wounds or with fewer; they have do its fit work, that of knowing; and therefrom, been recalled from it, and the once harsh-jar- by sure consequence, of rividly uttering forth. ring battle-field has become a silent awe-in. Other secret for being “ graphic" is there none, spiring Golgotha, and Goltesacker-Field of worth having: but this is an all-sufficient one. God!--Boswell relates this in itself smallest See, for example, what a small Boswell can and poorest of occurrences : “ As we walked do! Hereby, indeed, is the whole man made a along the Strand to-night, arm in arm, a wo- living mirror, wherein the wonders of this everman of the town accosted us in the usual en wonderful Universe are, in their true light, ticing manner. "No, no, my girl,' said John- (which is ever a magical, miraculous one,) reson; "it won't do.' He, however, did not presented, and reflected back on us. It has treat her with harshness, and we talked of the been said, “the heart sees farther than the wretched life of such women.” Strange power head :" but, indeed, without the seeing heart of Reality! Not even this poorest of occur- there is no true seeing for the head so much as rences, but now, after seventy years are come possible; all is mere oversight, hallucination, and gone, has a meaning for us. Do but con- and vain superficial phantasmagoria, which sider that it is true ; that it did in very deed can permanently profit no one. occur! That unhappy Outcast, with all her Here, too, may we not pause for an instant, sins and woes, her lawless desires, too com- and make a practical reflection ? Considering plex mischances, her wailings and her riot- the multitude of mortals that handle the Pen ings, has departed utterly: alas ! her siren in these days, and can mostly spell, and write finery has got all besmutched; ground, gene without daring violations of grammar, the rations since, into dust and smoke, of her des question naturally arises : How is it, then, that graded body, and whole miserable earthly no Work proceeds from them, bearing any existence, all is away: she is no longer here, stamp of authenticity and permanence; of but far from us, in the bosom of Eternity,- worth for more than one day? Ship-loads of whence we too came, whither we too are Fashionable Novels, Sentimental Rhymes, bound ! Johnson said, “No, no, my girl; it Tragedies, Farces, Diaries of Travel, Tales by won't do ;" and then “ we talked ;"--and here- nood and field, are swallowed monthly into the with the wretched one, seen but for the twink- bottomless Pool; still does the Press toil: inling of an eye, passes on into the utter Dark- numerable Paper-makers, Compositors, Printness. No high Calista, that ever issued from ers' Devils, Bookbinders, and Hawkers grown Story-teller's brain, will impressus more hoarse with loud proclaiming, rest not from deeply than this meanest of the mean; and their labour; and still, in torrents, rushes on for a good reason : That she issued from the the great array of Publications, unpausing, 10 Maker of Men.
their final home; and sull Oblivion, like the It is well worth the Artist's while to examine Grave, cries: Give! Give! How is it that of
all these countless multitudes, no one can attain stead of one Boswell and one White, the world to the smallest mark of excellence, or produce will rejoice in a thousand,-stationed on their ought that shall endure longer than “snow. I thousand several watch-towers, to instruct us flake on the river,” or the foam of penny-beer? by indubitable documents, of whatsoever in We answer: Because they are foam; because our so stupendous world comes to light and is! there is no Reality in them. These Three O, had the Editor of this Magazine but a Thousand men, women, and children, that magic rod to turn all that not inconsiderable make up the army of British Authors, do not, Intellect, which now deluges us with artificial if we will well consider it, see any thing what- fictitious soap-lather, and mere Lying, into the ever; consequently have nothing that they can faithful study of Reality,—what knowledge of record and utter, only more or fewer things great, everlasting Nature, and of Man's ways that they can plausibly pretend to record. The and doings therein, would not every year bring Universe, of Man and Nature, is still quite us in! Can we but change one single soapshut up from them; the “open secret” still latherer and mountebank Juggler, into a true utterly a secret; because no sympathy with Thinker and Doer, that even tries honestly to * Man or Nature, no love and free simplicity of think and do-great will be our reward. heart has yet unfolded the same. Nothing but a pitiful Image of their own pitisul Self, But to return; or rather from this point to with its vanities, and grudgings, and ravenous begin our journey! If now, what with Herr hunger of a kinds, hangs for ever painted in Sauerteig's Springuürzel, what with so much luthe retina . these unfortunate persons : so that cubration of our own, it have become apparent the starry 1ll, with whatsoever it embraces, how deep, immeasurable is the worth that lies does but appear as some expanded magic- in Reality,” and farther, how exclusive the inlantern shadow of tha: same Image, and natu. terest which man takes in the Histories of rally looks pitisul enough.
Man,-may it not seem lamentable, that so few It is vain for these persons to allege that genuinely good Biographies have yet been accuthey are naturally without gift, naturally stu- mulated in Literature; that in the whole world, pid and sightless, and so can attain to no one cannot find, going strictly to work, above knowledge of any thing; therefore, in writing some dozen, or baker's dozen, and those chiefly of any thing, must needs write falsehoods of of very ancient date? Lamentable; yet, after it, there being in it no truth for them. Not so, what we have just seen, accountable. An. good Friends. The stupidest of you has a other question might be asked: How comes it certain faculty; were it but that of articulate that in England we have simply one good speech, (say, in the Scottish, the Irish, the Biography, this Bosuell's Johnson : and of good, Cockney dialect, or even in “ Governess-Eng. indifferent, or even bad attempts at Biography, lish,") and of physically discerning what lies fewer than any civilized people ? Consider under your nose. The stupidest of you would the French and Germans, with their Moreris, perhaps grudge to be compared in faculty Bayles, Jürdenses, Jüchers, their innumerable with James Boswell; yet see what he has pro- Mémoires, and Schilderungen, and Biographies duced! You do not use your faculty honestly; Universelles; not to speak of Rousseaus, Goethes, your heart is shut up; full of greediness, ma- Schubarts, Jung-Sullings : and then contrast lice, discontent; so your intellectual sense with these our poor Birches, and Kippises and cannot be open. It is vain also to urge that Pecks,-ihe whole breed of whom, moreover, James Boswell had opportunities ; saw great is now extinct ! men and great things, such as you can never With this question, as the answer might hope to look on. What make ye of Parson lead us far, and come out undattering to patriWhite in Selborne ? He had not only no great otic sentiment, we shall not intermeddle; bat men to look on, but not even men; merely turn rather, with greater pleasure, to the fact, sparrows and cock-chafers : yet has he left us that one excelleni Biography is actually Eng. a Biography of these; which, under its title lish ;-and even now lie, in Five new Volumes, Natural History of Selborne, still remains valu. at our hand, soliciting a new consideration able to us; which has copied a little sentence from us; such as, age after age (the Perenor two faithfully from the inspired volume of nial showing ever new phases as our position Nature, and so is itself not without inspiration. alters,) it may long be profitable to bestow on Go ye and do likewise. Sweep away utterly il;-10 which task we here, in this age, gladly all frothiness and falsehood from your heart; address ourselves. struggle unweariedly to acquire, what is pos- First, however, Let the foolish April-fool sible for every god-created Man, a free, open, day pass by ; and our Reader, during these humble soul: speak not at all, in any wise, till tweniy-nine days of uncertain weather that you have somewhat to speak ; care not for the will follow, keep pondering, according to conreward of your speaking, but simply and with venience, the purport of BIOGRAPHY in genes undivided mind for the truth of your speaking: ral: then, with the blessed dew of May-day, then be placed in what section of Space and and in unlimited convenience of space, shall of Time soever, do but open your eyes, and all that we have written on Johnson, and Bose they shall actually see, and bring you real well's Johnson, and Croker's Boswell's Johnson, bro isnowledge, woi drous, worthy of belief; and in-faithfully laid before him.
BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON.
(FRASER'S MAGAZINE, 1832.]
Æsop's Fly, sitting on the axle of the cha- these. Let us admit, too, that he has been very riot, has been much laughed at for exclaiming : diligent; seems to have made inquiries perseWhat a dust I do raise! Yet which of us, in veringly far and near; as well as drawn freely his way, has not sometimes been guilty of the from his own ample stores; and so tells us to like? Nay, so foolish are men, they often, stand- appearance quite accurately, much that he has ng at ease and as spectators on the highway, not found lying on the highways, but has had to will volunteer to exclaim of the Fly (not being seek and dig for. Numerous persons, chiefly tempted to it, as he was) exacıly to the same pur- of quality, rise to view in these Notes; when pori: What a dust thou dost raise ! Smallest of and also where they came into this world, remortals, when mounted aloft by circumstances, ceived office or promotion, died, and were come to seem great; smallest of phenomena buried (only whai they did, except digest, reconnected with them are treated as important, maining often too mysterious,)-is faithfully and must be sedulously scanned, and com- enough set down. Whereby all that their vaJented upon with loud emphasis.
rious and doubtless widely-scattered TombThat Mr. Croker should undertake to edit stones could have taught us, is here presented, Boswell's Life of Johnson, was a praiseworthy at once, in a bound Book. Thus is an indubibut no miraculous procedure: neither could table conquest, though a small one, gained the accomplishment of such undertaking be, over our great enemy, the all-destroyer Time; in an epoch like ours, anywise regarded as an and as such shall have welcome. event in Universal History; the right or the Nay, let us say that the spirit of Diligence, wrong accomplishment thereof was, in very exhibited in this department, seems to attend truth, one of the most insignificant of things. the Editor honestly throughout: he keeps However, it sat in a great environment, on the everywhere a watchful outlook on his Text; axle of a high, fast-rolling, parliamentary reconciling the distant with the present, or at chariot; and all the world has exclaimed over least indicating and regretting their irreconit, and the author of it: What a dust thou dost cilability ; elucidating, smoothing down; in raise! List to the Reviews, and “Organs of all ways, exercising, according to ability, a Public Opinion,” from the National Omnibus strict editorial superintendence. Any little upwards; criticisms, vituperative and laudato- Latin or even Greek phrase is rendered into ry, stream from their thousand throats of brass English, in general with perfect accuracy; and leather; here chanting to paans : there citations are verified, or else corrected. On grating harsh thunder, or vehement shrew- all hands, moreover, there is a certain spirit mouse squeaklets; till the general ear is filled, of Decency maintained and insisted on : if nou and nigh deafened. Boswell's Book had a good morals, yet good manners, are rigidly innoiseless birth, compared with this Edition of culcated; if not Religion, and a devout ChrisBoswell's Book. On the other hand, consider tian heart, yet Orthodoxy, and a cleanly, Shovel. with what degree of tumult Paradise Lost and hatted look,—which, as compared with flat the Iliad were ushered in !
Nothing, is something very considerable. To swell such clamor, or prolong it beyond Grant too, as no contemptible triumph of this the time, seems nowise our vocation here. At latter spirit, that though the Editor is koown most, perhaps we are bound to inform simple as a decided Politician and Party-man, he has readers, with all possible brevity, what manner carefully subdued all temptations to transgress of performance and Edition this is; especial in that way: except by quite involuntary indily, whether, in our poor judgment, it is worth cations, and rather as it were the pervading laying out three pounds sterling upon, yea or temper of the whole, you could not discover not. The whole business belongs distinctly to on which side of the Political Warfare he is the lower ranks of the trivial class.
enlisted and fights. This, as we said, is a Let us admit, then, with great readiness, that great triumph of the Decency-principle: for as Johnson once said, and the Editor repeats, this, and for these other graces and perform“all works which describe manners, require ances, let the Editor have all praise. potes in sixty or seventy years, or less ;” that, Herewith, however, must the praise unforaccordingly, a new Edition of Boswell was de- tunately terminate. Diligence, Fidelity, De. sirable; and that Mr. Croker has given one. cency, are good and indispensable; yet, withFor this task he had various qualifications: out Faculty, without Light, they will not do his own voluntary resolution to do it; his high the work. Along with that Tombstone inforplace in society unlocking all manner of ar- mation, perhaps even without much of it, we chives to him; not less, perhaps, a certain could have liked to gain some answer, in one anecdotico-biographic turn of mind, natural way or other, to this wide question : What and or acquired; we mean, a love for the minuler how was English Life in Johnson's time; events of History, and talent for investigating wherein has ours grown to differ therefrom?
In other words: What things have we to for*Tne Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D.: including a get, wbat to fancy and remember, before we, Tour to the Hebrides. By James Boswell, Esq.A new from such distance, can put ourselves in Edition, with numerous Additions and Notes. By John Wilsna Croker, LL.D., F. R. 8. 5 vols. London, 1831. Johnson's pluce; and so, in the full sense of