it was his maxim, that “to live in peace with mankind, and in a temper to do good offices, was the most essential part of our duty.”  That notion of moral goodness gave umbrage to sir John Hawkins, and drew down upon the memory of his friend, the bitterest imputations.  Mr. Dyer, however, was admired and loved through life.  He was a man of literature.  Johnson loved to enter with him into a discussion of metaphysical, moral, and critical subjects; in those conflicts, exercising his talents, and, according to his custom, always contending for victory.  Dr. Bathurst was the person on whom Johnson fixed his affection.  He hardly ever spoke of him without tears in his eyes.  It was from him, who was a native of Jamaica, that Johnson received into his service Frank[n], the black servant, whom, on account of his master, he valued to the end of his life.  At the time of instituting the club in Ivy lane, Johnson had projected the Rambler.  The title was most probably suggested by the Wanderer; a poem which he mentions, with the warmest praise, in the life of Savage.  With the same spirit of independence with which he wished to live, it was now his pride to write.  He communicated his plan to none of his friends:  he desired no assistance, relying entirely on his own fund, and the protection of the divine being, which he implored in a solemn form of prayer, composed by himself for the occasion.  Having formed a resolution to undertake a work that might be of use and honour to his country, he thought, with Milton, that this was not to be obtained “but by devout prayer to that eternal spirit, that can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and send out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases.”

Having invoked the special protection of heaven, and by that act of piety fortified his mind, he began the great work of the Rambler.  The first number was published on Tuesday, March the 20th, 1750; and from that time was continued regularly every Tuesday and Saturday, for the space of two years, when it finally closed on Saturday, March 14, 1752.  As it began with motives of piety, so it appears that the same religious spirit glowed, with unabating ardour, to the last.  His conclusion is:  “The essays professedly serious, if I have been able to execute my own intentions, will be found exactly conformable to the precepts of christianity, without any accommodation to the licentiousness and levity of the present age.  I, therefore, look back on this part of my work with pleasure, which no man shall diminish or augment.  I shall never envy the honours which wit and learning obtain in any other cause, if I can be numbered among the writers who have given ardour to virtue, and confidence to truth.”  The whole number of essays amounted to two hundred and eight.  Addison’s, in the Spectator, are more in number, but not half in point of quantity:  Addison was not bound to publish on stated days; he could watch the ebb and flow of