Samuel Johnson, by John Wain

Samuel Johnson By John Wain Viking, 388 pp., $12.50 “As the vessel put out to sea, I kept my eyes upon him for a considerable time, while he remained rolling his majestic frame in his usual manner.” That was James Boswell’s last piquant glimpse of Dr. Samuel Johnson as he sailed off to study law in Holland. The year was 1763—almost two decades before Boswell would write Dr. Johnson up in the greatest biography in the language.

Dr. Johnson, we know, was a tall ungainly figure, full of lurches, shuffles, tics, and twitches; but in just what “usual manner” he rolled his frame on the quay at Harwich, Boswell leaves to one’s imagination. The word that catches us is “majestic,” for there was true majesty in Dr. Johnson that has entranced connoisseurs of strong character for two centuries. As for his work, an entire course in the liberal arts could be built around it. He wrote poems like “The Vanity of Human Wishes” that no anthologist dares ignore. He compiled our first great dictionary; and the more dated or eccentric its definitions become, the more fun it is to read. He was a fine political reporter, essayist (“steering close to the obvious,” writes Mr. Wain of the two

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Edwin M. Yoder Jr.

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Samuel Johnson By John Wain Viking, 388 pp., $12.50 “As the vessel put out to sea, I kept my eyes upon him for a considerable time, while he remained rolling his majestic frame in his usual manner.” That was James Boswell’s last piquant glimpse of Dr. Samuel Johnson as he sailed off to study law in Holland. The year was 1763—almost two decades before Boswell would write Dr. Johnson up in the greatest biography in the language.

Dr. Johnson, we know, was a tall ungainly figure, full of lurches, shuffles, tics, and twitches; but in just what “usual manner” he rolled his frame on the quay at Harwich, Boswell leaves to one’s imagination. The word that catches us is “majestic,” for there was true majesty in Dr. Johnson that has entranced connoisseurs of strong character for two centuries. As for his work, an entire course in the liberal arts could be built around it. He wrote poems like “The Vanity of Human Wishes” that no anthologist dares ignore. He compiled our first great dictionary; and the more dated or eccentric its definitions become, the more fun it is to read. He was a fine political reporter, essayist (“steering close to the obvious,” writes Mr. Wain of the two