enius, and culture, as Burke and Gibbon doubtless were. Even Goldsmith,
whom he snubbed and loved, is now more popular than he. It was the
heroism of his character which Carlyle so much admired and so vividly
described,--contending with so many difficulties, yet surmounting them
all by his persistent industry and noble aspirations; never losing faith
in himself or his Maker, never servilely bowing down to rank and wealth,
as others did, and maintaining his self-respect in whatever condition he
was placed. In this delightful biography we are made to see the
superiority of character to genius, and the dignity of labor when
idleness was the coveted desire of most fortunate men, as well as the
almost universal vice of the magnates of the land. Labor, to the mind of
Johnson as well as to that of Carlyle, is not only honorable, but is a
necessity which Nature imposes as the condition of happiness and
usefulness. Nor does Carlyle sneer at the wedded life of Johnson, made
up of "drizzle and dry weather," but reverences his fidelity to his best
friend, uninteresting as she was to the world, and his plaintive and
touching grief when she passed away.

Carlyle in this essay exalts a life of letters, however poorly paid
(which Pope in his "Dunciad" did so much to depreciate), showing how it
contributes to the elevation of a nation, and to those lofty pleasures
which no wealth can purchase. But it is the moral dignity of Johnson
which the essay makes to shine most conspicuously in his character,
supported as he was by the truths of religion, in which under all
circumstances he proudly glories, and without which he must have made
shipwreck of himself amid so many discouragements, maladies, and
embarrassments,--for his greatest labors were made with poverty,
distress, and obscurity for his companions,--until at last, victorious
over every external evil and vile temptation, he emerged into the realm
of peace and light, and became an oracle and a sage wherever he chose
to go.

Johnson was the greatest master of conversation in his day, whose
detached sayings are still quoted more often than his most elaborate
periods. I apprehend that there was a great contrast between Johnson's
writings and his conversation. While the former are Ciceronian, his talk
was epigrammatic, terse, and direct; and its charm and power were in his
pointed and vehement Saxon style. Had he talked as he wrote, he would
have been wearisome and pedantic. Still, like