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
Next morning another set of my acquaintance congratulated me upon my
performance, with such importunity of praise, that I was again forced
to obviate their civilities by a treat. On the third day, I had yet a
greater number of applauders to put to silence in the same manner; and,
on the fourth, those whom I had entertained the first day came again,
having, in the perusal of the remaining part of the book, discovered so
many forcible sentences and masterly touches, that it was impossible for
me to bear the repetition of their commendations. I therefore persuaded
them once more to adjourn to the tavern, and choose some other subject,
on which I might share in their conversation. But it was not in their
power to withhold their attention from my performance, which had so
entirely taken possession of their minds, that no entreaties of mine
could change their topick, and I was obliged to stifle, with claret, that
praise which neither my modesty could hinder, nor my uneasiness repress.
The whole week was thus spent in a kind of literary revel, and I have now
found that nothing is so expensive as great abilities, unless there is
joined with them an insatiable eagerness of praise; for to escape from
the pain of hearing myself exalted above the greatest names, dead and
living, of the learned world, it has already cost me two hogsheads of
port, fifteen gallons of arrack, ten dozen of claret, and five and forty
bottles of champagne.
I was resolved to stay at home no longer, and therefore rose early and
went to the coffee-house; but found that I had now made myself too
eminent for happiness, and that I was no longer to enjoy the pleasure
of mixing, upon equal terms, with the rest of the world. As soon as I
enter the room, I see part of the company raging with envy, which they
endeavour to conceal, sometimes with the appearance of laughter, and
sometimes with that of contempt; but the disguise is such, that I can
discover the secret rancour of their hearts, and as envy is deservedly
its own punishment, I frequently indulge myself in tormenting them with
my presence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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