Addison and Steele therefore in their age acted wisely; their cotemporaries would have been driven[3] "by the sternness of the Rambler's philosophy to more cheerful and airy companions." The pages of the Tatler were enlivened by foreign and domestic politics, by the current scandal of the town, and by easy critiques on the last new play; by advertisements of "orangerie for beaux[4]," and by prescriptions for the cure of love-sickness or the spleen. The Guardian uttered forth his moral lessons from the wide and voracious mouth of an imaginary lion, whose roarings were to have influence[5] "for the purifying of behaviour and the bettering of manners." But for Johnson was reserved a different task, and one for which his powers and the natural bent of his mind were peculiarly fitted. He disdained, as derogatory from the dignity of a teacher, to thus humour trifling minds, and to barter by idle conceits for the reception of his precepts. His aim was not to amuse but to instruct, not to ridicule the frivolities of fashion, but to lash the enormities of guilt. He resolved to write a book in which nothing should be flattered that men had agreed to flatter, and in which no tenderness should be shown to public prejudice or to private folly[6]. In pursuance of this deep and solemn purpose we accordingly find him imploring assistance in his labours from that "Giver of all good things, without whose help all labour is ineffectual, and without whose grace all wisdom is folly[7]." The Rambler was published on Tuesday March 20, 1749-50, and appeared without intermission every Tuesday and Saturday until March 14, 1752, on which day it closed[8]. The Author was not exhausted nor weary; his latter pages do not fall off; perhaps, without partiality, we may say, that he evidently gathered strength as he proceeded in his work. But prepared as the age had been by preceding writers, it was not enlightened to an extent adequate to the universal reception of truths so abstract and so spoken out[9]; it could not comprehend within its reach of sight such bold and broad sketches of human nature. In the sententious and didactic papers of the Rambler, where truth appears "towering and majestic, unassisted and alone[10]," lighter readers missed with regret the sportive variety of his predecessors. We can adduce perhaps no stronger proof of Johnson's elevation above his times, than the fact that the meagre, common-place, and jejune paper of Richardson, was the only one that obtained an immediate popularity[11]. The sale of the Rambler seldom exceeded five hundred; while it is on record that twenty thousand Spectators were sometimes sold in a day[12]. But Johnson wrote not for his own generation alone, but for posterity, and posterity will pay him his meed of immortality.