Previously to the commencement of the 'Rambler' he had drawn the outlines of many essays, of which specimens may be seen in the biographies of Sir John Hawkins and Boswell; and it is probable that the sentiments of all these papers had been long floating in his mind. With such preparation he began the 'Rambler,' without any communication with his friends or desire of assistance. Whether he proposed the scheme himself does not appear; but he was fortunate in forming an engagement with Mr. John Payne, a bookseller in Paternoster Row (and afterwards the chief accountant of the Bank of England), a man with whom he lived many years in habits of friendship, and who, on the present occasion, treated his author with liberality. He engaged to pay two guineas for each paper, or four guineas per week, which, at that time, must have been to Johnson a very considerable sum; and he admitted him to a share of the future profits of the work when it should be collected into volumes, which share Johnson afterwards sold. It has been observed that objections have been offered to the name 'Rambler.' Johnson's account to Sir Joshua Reynolds forms, probably, as good an excuse as so trifling a circumstance demands. 'What must be done, sir, will be done. When I was to begin publishing that paper, I was at a loss how to name it. I sat down at night upon my bedside, and resolved that I would not go to sleep till I had fixed its title. The "Rambler" seemed the best that occurred, and I took it.' The Italians have literally translated this name 'Il Vagabondo.'
The first paper was published on Tuesday, March 20, 1749-50, and the work continued without the least interruption every Tuesday and Saturday until Saturday, March 14, 1752, on which day it closed. Each number was handsomely printed on a sheet and a half of fine paper, at the price of twopence, and with great typographical accuracy, not above a dozen errors occurring in the whole work—a circumstance the more remarkable, because the copy was written in haste, as the time urged, and sent to the press without being revised by the author. When we consider that, in the whole progress of the work, the sum of assistance he received scarcely amounted to five papers, we must wonder at the fertility of a mind engaged during the same period on that stupendous labour, the English Dictionary, and frequently distracted by disease and anguish. Other essayists have had the choice of their days, and their happy hours, for composition; but Johnson knew no remission, although he very probably would have been glad of it, and yet continued to write with unabated vigour, although even this disappointment might be supposed to have often rendered him uneasy; and his natural indolence—not the indolence of will, but of constitution—would, in other men, have palsied every effort. Towards the conclusion there is so little of that 'falling off' visible in some works of the same kind, that it might probably have been extended much further, had the encouragement of the public borne any proportion to its merits.
The assistance Johnson received was very trifling: Richardson, the novelist, wrote No. 97. The four letters in No. 10 were written by Miss Mulso, afterwards Mrs. Chapone, who also contributed the story of 'Fidelia' to the 'Adventurer,' a paper conducted by Doctors Hawkesworth, Johnson, Thornton, and Warton, which succeeded the 'Rambler.' No. 30 was written by Miss Catharine Talbot, and Nos. 44 and 100 were written by Mrs. Elizabeth Carter.
The 'Rambler' made its way very slowly into the world. All scholars, all men of taste, saw its excellence at once, and crowded round the author to solicit his friendship and relieve his anxieties. It procured him a multitude of friends and admirers among men distinguished for rank as well as genius, and it constituted a perpetual apology for that rugged and uncourtly manner which sometimes rendered his conversation formidable, and, to those who looked from the book to the man, presented a contrast that would no doubt frequently excite amazement.
Still, it must be confessed, there were at first many prejudices against the 'Rambler' to be overcome. The style was new; it appeared harsh, involved, and perplexed; it required more than a transitory inspection to be understood; it did not suit those who run as they read, and who seldom return to a book if the hour it helped to dissipate can be passed away in more active pleasures. When reprinted in volumes, however, the sale gradually increased; it was recommended by the friends of religion and literature as a book by which a man might learn to think; and the author lived to see ten large editions printed in England, besides those which were clandestinely printed in other parts of the kingdom and in America. Since Johnson's death the number of editions has been multiplied.
Sir John Hawkins informs us that these essays hardly ever underwent a Revision before they were sent to the press, and adds: 'The original manuscripts of the "Rambler" have passed through my hands, and by the perusal of them I am warranted to say, as was said of Shakespeare by the players of that time, that he never blotted out a line, and I believe without the retort which Ben Jonson made to them: "Would he had blotted out a thousand!"'
However, Dr. Johnson's desire to carry his essays, which he regarded in some degree as his monument to posterity, as near perfection as his labours could achieve, induced him to devote such attention to the preparation of the 'Ramblers' for the collected series that the alterations in the second and third editions far exceed six thousand—a number which may perhaps justify the use of the expression 're-wrote,' although it must not be taken in its literal acceptation.
With respect to the plan of the 'Rambler,' Dr. Johnson may surely be said to have executed what he intended: he has successfully attempted the propagation of truth, and boldly maintained the dignity of virtue. He has accumulated in this work a treasury of moral science which will not be soon exhausted. He has laboured to refine our language to grammatical purity, and to clear it from colloquial barbarisms, licentious idioms, and irregular combinations. Something he has certainly added to the elegance of its construction, and something to the harmony of its cadence.
Comparisons have been formed between the 'Rambler' and its predecessors, or rather between the genius of Johnson and Addison, but have generally ended in discovering a total want of resemblance. As they were both original writers, they must be tried, if tried at all, by laws applicable to their respective attributes. But neither had a predecessor. We find no humour like Addison's, no energy and dignity like Johnson's. They had nothing in common but moral excellence of character; they could not have exchanged styles for an hour. Yet there is one respect in which we must give Addison the preference—more general utility. His writings would have been understood at any period; Johnson's are more calculated for an improved and liberal education. In both, however, what was peculiar was natural. The earliest of Dr. Johnson's works confirm this; from the moment he could write at all he wrote in stately periods, and his conversation from first to last abounded in the peculiarities of his composition.
Addison principally excelled in the observation of manners, and in that exquisite ridicule he threw on the minute improprieties of life. Johnson, although not ignorant of life or manners, could not descend to familiarities with tuckers and commodes, with furs and hoop-petticoats. A scholarly professor and a writer from necessity, he loved to bring forward subjects so near and dear as the disappointments of authors—the dangers and miseries of literary eminence—anxieties of literature—contrariety of criticism—miseries of patronage—value of fame—causes of the contempt of the learned—prejudices and caprices of criticism—vanity of an author's expectations—meanness of dedications—necessity of literary courage, and all those other subjects which relate to authors and their connection with the public. Sometimes whole papers are devoted to what may be termed the personal concerns of men of literature, and incidental reflections are everywhere interspersed for the instruction or caution of the same class.