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played the whole force of my eloquence, with no manner of effect on her understanding, in defence of the RAMBLER, she afterwards almost convinced me that there was a tolerable degree of merit in the idle foolish farce of “ Miss in her Teens." I must positively take care how. I venture to engage with her again, for fear she should take it into her head to convince me of the wit, good sense, and morality of

Mrs. Cibber's Oracle."*

Had Johnson, instead of dealing in general truths, exercised his pen in temporary and personal descriptions of manners and characters, he would have instantly engaged the attention of vulgar minds, and procured present fame to his essays; but he would have composed them of fading materials, which would long since have perished and been forgotten.-- It is probable that those papers in the Spectator, which, sporting with the little foibles and petty customs of the day, have long since lost their interest, and are now only an incumbrance to the work, were, when first published the most popular.

The fate of the RAMBLER holds out a lesson of encouragement to the virtuous exertions of a pure and unsophisticated mind. To such a mind the passing subjects of fashionable interest in the intercourse of familiar life, are unattractive, and even contemptible.

“ I have never,” says Johnson, « complied with temporary curiosity, nor enabled my readers to discuss the topic of the day. I have rarely exemplified my assertions by living characters; in my papers no man could look for censures of his enemies, or praises of himself, and they only were expected to peruse them, whose passions left them leisure for abstracted truth, and whom virtue could please by its naked dignity.”

* From Mrs. Carter's Letters,

It would be uncandid to deny that the criticism of Miss Talbot on these Essays is just. Johnson wants the happy ease of Addison, whose exquisitely nice touches of character were beyond the attainment of his successor, both in point of perception and language. The pen of Johnson makes its strokes with a heavy and laborious hand; but the strokes have force and truth, though perhaps a little exaggerated. -If there be " the nodosity of the oak,” there is also “its strength.” Johnson had not in early life, like Addison, been familiar with the circles of polished society; and the structure of his own mind and disposition was not calculated to counteract this deficiency. He was indeed so far from wanting a moral sensibility, that it predominated in every act and expression of his life. It flowed from a constant contemplation of the frailties and sorrows of human nature. But he wanted those delicate and excessive feelings, which are instantaneous; and too often are opposite to reason; never the result of it. His characters of FROLICK and RHODOCLEA, if full of good sense, are coarse; the outline is well drawn, but it is not filled up with felicity or niceness; the colours are laid on with a trowel; and the lights and shades are not happily blended.

But what human work is perfect? And what author, unless Shakspeare, ever possessed every

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varied excellence? There is merit enough in the RAMBLER to reflect eternal disgrace on its cotemporaries, by whom it was so coldly received.

Jan. 14, 1809.

ART. DCCLVIII.

N°. LIX. On the Love of Fame.

" Fame is the spur which the clear spirit doth raise To scorn delights, and live laborious days."

MILTON. The love of Fame, if we limit the word to the result of virtuous and honourable exertions, burns brightest in those bosoms, whose powers are best adapted to attain it. It is a generous passion, which is unfelt by selfish minds. Its gratifications are generally ideal; and remote both in point of time and place.

The effects of wealth and titles come home to the presence of the possessor; they feed his sensual gratifications, and are seen by the eye, and heard by the ear. The ardour therefore with which they are pursued, and the sacrifices which are made to acquire them, are perfectly consistent with the most narrow and the basest motives.

It may be admitted, that of Fame, which is justly won, these observations are not equally applicable to every different kind. Of a warrior the fame in some degree surrounds him; accompanies his footsteps; precedes his march; and follows at his heels. Nor is the orator unattended by a reward which comes directly home to him. · All these recompences

however are empty sound to the selfish disposition; which demands something that it deems more solid; that is, something better calculated to please the part of our nature approaching nearest to the brutes of the field.

Of all Fame, the passion for literary Fame is the most praiseworthy, as it is the purest, the most abstract, and the least liable to the suspicion of being intermingled with those grovelling views, which would debase it. Its nutriment is airy food; it is cheered by sounds which are not heard by common ears; and the chaplets with which it is crowned are invisible to common eyes.

He who gives up his days and nights to win esteem by his intellectual exertions from those who are capable of appreciating his merits, or receiving pleasure from his productions, is treated by his neighbours, and by those among whom he is thrown by the common intercourse of life, with coldness and neglect, if not dislike. To their vulgar judgments it would be the bighest presumption and ignorance to place him in competition with Folly or Vice themselves, should they possess more rank, or a better fortune.

True it is that this ordinary and contemptible estimate prevails more in country neighbourhoods than in a metropolis; and I am not sure that if a man of genius have any alloy in his desire of renown, he ought to pass his life among rural acquaintances. But, 0! how much would he lose by the exchange! Airs of heaven, that blow upon the breast of the poet in all your purity, and fan his solitary and uninterrupted meditations! Leaves, that spread yourselves beneath his feet, and delight his senses with your fragrance! Deep woods, that shelter from his sight the polluted haunts of men! And songs of birds, whose tender notes, distinctly thrilling the quiet atmosphere, make him forget the hum and clamour of distracted cities ! Would he forsake the exquisite enjoyments, which you afford him, for a little addition of stupid flattery?

If there should be any one so mistaken as to fix on the pursuit of literature for any other purposes than the intrinsic pleasure which it affords, and the honourable fame, which may be the remote reward of the instruction or the amusement it will confer; bitter disappointment will be the almost necessary consequence of his error. It is not an occupation fitted for the ends of the worldling. The castles which it builds in the clouds give no satisfaction to him; and the “ ideal nothing," in which its riches consist, in his opinion only deserves the pity, which is excited by the straw crowns of the maniac.

But we cannot suppose that this intense desire of Fame, as well future as distant, is implanted in us for nothing: we cannot suppose it would be most violent in those endowed with the highest qualities both of head and heart, unless for some wise and important purposes. Nor does it seem to me consistent with the benevolence and justice of the Creator to animate us with the wish for delusive rewards as the result of virtuous exertions. I can never therefore bring my mind to believe that that fame which is sought and won by the pure efforts of intellectual labour, is, when obtained, hollow and valueless.

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