The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. in Nine Volumes, Volume 02: The Rambler, Volume IJohnson, Samuel
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The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. in Nine Volumes, Volume 02: The Rambler, Volume I
Johnson, Samuel
English essays -- 18th century
I have now known Suspirius fifty-eight years and four months, and have
never yet passed an hour with him in which he has not made some attack
upon my quiet. When we were first acquainted, his great topick was the
misery of youth without riches; and whenever we walked out together he
solaced me with a long enumeration of pleasures, which, as they were
beyond the reach of my fortune, were without the verge of my desires, and
which I should never have considered as the objects of a wish, had not
his unseasonable representations placed them in my sight.
Another of his topicks is the neglect of merit, with which he never fails
to amuse every man whom he sees not eminently fortunate. If he meets
with a young officer, he always informs him of gentlemen whose personal
courage is unquestioned, and whose military skill qualifies them to
command armies, that have, notwithstanding all their merit, grown old
with subaltern commissions. For a genius in the church, he is always
provided with a curacy for life. The lawyer he informs of many men of
great parts and deep study, who have never had an opportunity to speak
in the courts: and meeting Serenus the physician, "Ah, doctor," says
he, "what a-foot still, when so many block-heads are rattling in their
chariots? I told you seven years ago that you would never meet with
encouragement, and I hope you will now take more notice, when I tell you
that your Greek, and your diligence, and your honesty, will never enable
you to live like yonder apothecary, who prescribes to his own shop, and
laughs at the physician."
Suspirius has, in his time, intercepted fifteen authors in their way to
the stage; persuaded nine and thirty merchants to retire from a prosperous
trade for fear of bankruptcy, broke off an hundred and thirteen matches
by prognostications of unhappiness, and enabled the small-pox to kill
nineteen ladies, by perpetual alarms of the loss of beauty.
Whenever my evil stars bring us together, he never fails to represent to
me the folly of my pursuits, and informs me that we are much older than
when we began our acquaintance, that the infirmities of decrepitude are
coming fast upon me, that whatever I now get, I shall enjoy but a little
time, that fame is to a man tottering on the edge of the grave of very
little importance, and that the time is at hand when I ought to look for
no other pleasures than a good dinner and an easy chair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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