pofterity, are forgotten, for the very reafon for which they might expect to be remembered. It has been long lamented, that the duration of the monuments • of genius and study, as well as of wealth and power, • depends in no small measure on their bulk; and that * volumes, confiderable only for their size, are handed down from one age to another, when compendious treatises, of far greater importance, are suffered to ' perifh, as the compactest bodies sink into the water, while those of which the extension bears a greater • proportion to the weight, float upon the furface. This obfervation hath been so often confirmed by experience, that, in the neighbouring nation, the * common appellation of fmall performances is derived • from this unfortunate circumstance; a flying sheet, or a 'fugitive piece, are the terms by which they are diftin'guished, and diftinguished with too great propriety, as they are subject, after having amufed mankind for a while, to take their flight and disappear for ever. • What are the losses which the learned have already • fuftained, by having neglected to fix those fugitives ' in some certain residence, it is not easy to say; but there is no doubt that many valuable observations ⚫ have been repeated, because they were not preferved; and that, therefore, the progress of knowledge has been retarded, by the necessity of doing what had ⚫ been already done, but was done for those who forgot 'their benefactor. • The obvious method of preventing these loffes, of • preserving to every man the reputation he has me• rited by long affiduity, is to unite these scattered 'pieces L2 ، pieces into volumes, that those which are too fmall to preserve themselves, may be secured by their combination with others; to consolidate these atoms ' of learning into systems, to collect these disunited rays, that their light and their fire may become per'ceptible. Of encouraging this useful design, the studious • and inquisitive have now an opportunity, which, • perhaps, was never offered them before, and which, • if it should now be loft, there is not any probability that they will ever recover. They may now conceive themselves in possession of the lake into which • all those rivulets of science have for many years been flowing: but which, unless its waters are turned into proper channels, will foon burst its banks, or be dif' persed in imperceptible exhalations. ، ، ' In the Harleian library, which I have purchased, < are treasured a greater number of pamphlets and • small treatifes, than were perhaps ever yet seen in one place; productions of the writers of all parties, and of every age, from the reformation; collected ' with an unbounded and unwearied curiofity, without • exclusion of any fubject. So great is the variety, that it has been no small ' labour to peruse the titles, in order to reduce them to a rude divifion, and range their heaps under general heads, of which the number, though not yet in* creased by the subdivision which an accurate survey ' will neceffarily produce, cannot but excite the curio sity of all the studious, as there is scarcely any part ' of knowledge which fome of these articles do not C comprehend. [Then ، [Then follows an enumeration of articles to the amount of more than an hundred and fifty, which it is needless here to infert.] As many of these tracts must be obscure by ' length of time, or defective for want of those difcoveries which have been made since they were written, there will be added fome historical, explanatory, or fupplemental notes, in which the occasion of the ' treatise will be shewn, or an account given of the author, allusions to forgotten facts will be illustrated, or the subject farther elucidated from other ' writers.' We may well conclude that the proposal met with all due encouragement, as the pieces recommended in it were in the year 1749, published in eight quarto volumes. To the first of them was prefixed, as an introduction, an essay on the origin and importance of small tracts and fugitive pieces. Osborne was an opulent tradesman, as may be judged from his ability to make so large a purchase as that above-mentioned; he was used to boast that he was worth forty thousand pounds, but of booksellers he was one of the most ignorant: of title-pages or editions he had no knowledge or remembrance, but in all the tricks and arts of his trade he was most expert. Johnson, in his life of Pope says, that he was entirely destitute of shame, without sense of any disgrace, but that of poverty. He purchased a number of unfold copies of Mr. Pope's Iliad, of the folio size, printed on an inferior paper and without cuts, and cutting off the tap and bottom margins, which were very large, had the impudence to call them the subscription books, and to vend then as such *. His infolence to his cuftomers was alfo frequently past bearing. If one came for a book in his catalogue, he would endeavour to force on him some new publication of his own, and, if he refused, would affront him. I mention the above particulars of this worthless fellow as an introduction to a fact respecting his behaviour to Johnson, which I have often heard related, and which himself confefsed to be true. Johnson, while employed in selecting pieces for the Harleian Miscellany, was neceffitated, not only to peruse the title-page of each article, but frequently to examine its contents, in order to form a judgment of its worth and importance, in the doing whereof, it must be supposed, curiosity might sometimes detain him too long, and whenever it did, Ofborne was offended. Seeing Johnson one day deeply engaged in perusing a book, and the work being for the instant at a stand, he reproached him with inattention and delay, in fuch coarse language as few men would use, and still fewer could brook: the other in his juftification afferted fomewhat, which Ofborne answered by giving him the lie; Johnson's anger at fo foul a charge, was not so great as to make him forget that he had weapons at hand: he seized a folio that lay near him, and with it felled his adversary to the ground, with some exclamation, which, as it is differently related, I will not venture to repeat. This transaction, which has been seldom urged with any other view than to shew that Johnfon was of * See a note on the Dunciad, Book ii. verse 167, in the later editions. an 1 an irafcible temper, is generally related as an entertaining story: with me it has always been a subject of melancholy reflection. In our estimation of the enjoyments of this life, we place wisdom, virtue, and learning in the first class, and riches and other adventitious gifts of fortune in the last. The natural fubordination of the one to the other we fee and approve, and when that is disturbed we are forry. How then must it affect a sensible mind to contemplate that misfortune, which could subject a man endued with a capacity for the highest offices, a philosopher, a poet, an orator, and, if fortune had so ordered, a chancellor, a prelate, a statefman, to the insolence of a mean, worthless, ignorant fellow, who had nothing to justify the superiority he exercised over a man so endowed, but those advantages which Providence indiscriminately difpenfes to the worthy and the worthlefs! to fee such a man, fer the fupply of food and raiment, submitting to the commands of his inferior, and, as a hireling, looking up to him for the reward of his work, and receiving it accompanied with reproach and contumely, this, I fay, is a subject of melancholy reflection, Having completed the Harleian catalogue and mifcellany, and thereby disengaged himself from Ofhorne, Johnfon was at liberty to purfue fome scheme of profit, less irksome than that in which he had fo lately been employed. Biography was a kind of writing that he delighted in; it called forth his powers of reflection, and gave him occafion to contemplate human life and manners. He had made some essays of his talent in the lives of Barretier and Boerhaave, men unknown to him, and was now prompted to give to the world L4 |