was in 1779, and the whole was completed in 1781. In a memorandum of
that year, he says, some time in March he finished the Lives of the
Poets, which he wrote in his usual way, dilatorily and hastily,
unwilling to work, yet working with vigour and haste. In another place,
he hopes they are written in such a manner, as may tend to the promotion
of piety. That the history of so many men, who, in their different
degrees, made themselves conspicuous in their time, was not written
recently after their deaths, seems to be an omission that does no honour
to the republic of letters. Their contemporaries, in general, looked on
with calm indifference, and suffered wit and genius to vanish out of the
world in total silence, unregarded and unlamented. Was there no friend
to pay the tribute of a tear? No just observer of life to record the
virtues of the deceased? Was even envy silent? It seemed to have been
agreed, that if an author's works survived, the history of the man was
to give no moral lesson to after-ages. If tradition told us that Ben
Jonson went to the Devil tavern; that Shakespeare stole deer, and held
the stirrup at play-house doors; that Dryden frequented Button's
coffee-house; curiosity was lulled asleep, and biography forgot the best
part of her function, which is, to instruct mankind by examples taken from
the school of life. This task remained for Dr. Johnson, when years had
rolled away; when the channels of information were, for the most part,
choked up, and little remained besides doubtful anecdote, uncertain
tradition, and vague report.

"Nunc situs informis premit et deserta vetustas."

The value of biography has been better understood in other ages, and in
other countries. Tacitus informs us, that to record the lives and
characters of illustrious men, was the practice of the Roman authors, in
the early periods of the republic. In France, the example has been