One hundred years ago
It is one hundred years ago today since Samuel Johnson died. Since that time the world has moved with a rapid- ity of which he could not even have dreamed. It may be almost said, indeed, that politically, morally, and socially a new world has been created in England. We have ceased in many respects to think as Johnson thought, or to live as he lived. The 'Great Cham of Litera- ture' occupied a throne in London which no longer exists. Like Addison before him, he gave laws in his little senate, and men like Burke and Reynolds were willing to obey. His position was unique, almost uncon- tested; and yet in literature Johnson had superiors in his own day, and has assuredly had many since. No one would dream of placing him on an equality with Burke for political sagac- ity, with Macaulay for wealth of acquisi- tion, with Carlyle for extent of know- ledge and suggestiveness of thought, with Lamb as an essayist, with many a third-rate novelist for invention, with many a second-rate poet for imagina- tion, with Hallam as a critic, with Lockhart or Southey as a biographer; and there are spheres of thought traversed by modern writers of which Johnson was wholly ignorant. All these admissions may be made, and yet John- son's figure stands out today more prominently than that of any conspi- cuous British author of his century or of ours, with the sole exception, perhaps, of Sir Walter Scott.
Spectator, 13 December 1884
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