约翰逊博士是十八世纪英国文坛的祭酒，他曾费时七年独立完成睥睨英国文坛的《英文字典》，而他如大熊星座般君临众星的魅力，则在他那充满人生智慧的谈论对话、罕见的巧妙言谈、那意想不到的比喻、卓越的修辞、洋溢的机智中体现，这使得史蒂文森每天都要像读《圣经》那样读上一些，英国语言学家乔艾特更是为之着迷，前后手不释卷地读了五十遍。作者包斯威尔从二十三岁起便与约翰逊成了忘年的莫逆之交，他立志把这位文坛巨擘一点一滴挖掘出来。对爱好智慧的现代人来说，本书正是一座睿智的宝库。在这部千古绝唱的传记中，读者除了看到因缅怀往事而产生的逼人才华、光彩夺目的文字外，还可看到包氏本人的悲剧精神，及由此而生所洋溢的两位不平凡人物的温馨友情。近代传记大师莫洛亚曾赞叹包氏是现代传记文学之父。此书业已成了世界最伟大不朽之传记文学的经典之作。读者可以每十年看一次，而且愈看愈有味，同时领会杰出传记家所赋予人的历史生命以永恒的不朽性。

James Boswell is for some the ideal scribe, for others a sycophantic toady. Edmund Wilson, for example, memorably labeled him "a vain and pushing diarist." Boswell can even be seen as someone unconsciously intent on undermining his idol in sonorous, balanced sentences. Early on in his massive Life, he puts all manner of ideas into our heads with his boobish attempts to clear the youthful Johnson of potential impropriety: "His juvenile attachments to the fair sex were, however, very transient; and it is certain that he formed no criminal connection whatsoever." And while it's often tempting to ignore Boswell's more personal intrusions and delight solely in the melancholic master's words and deeds, there are suchdelightful admissions as, "I was at this time so occupied, shall I call it? or so dissipated, by the amusements of London that our next meeting was not till Saturday, June 25..."

Samuel Johnson was born in 1709 and died in 1784--a long life, though one marred by depression and fear of death. On April 20, 1764, for example, he declared, "I would consent to have a limb amputated to recover my spirits." Many of the quotes Boswell includes are a sort of greatest hits: Johnson's definitions of oats and lexicographer, his love for his cat Hodge, as well as thousands of bon, and mal, mots. ("Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel"; "Sir, a woman's preaching is like a dog's walking on his hinder legs. It is not done well; but you are surprized to find it done at all.") But there are also many unfamiliar pleasures--Boswell's accounts of Johnson's literary industry, including the Dictionary, The Rambler, and Lives of the Poets; Johnson's singular loathing for Scotland and France; and the surprising hints of revelry. Awakened at 3 AM by friends, he greets them with, "What, is it you, you dogs! I'll have a frisk with you." This at age 42. Johnson's final years were marked by pain and loneliness but certainly no loss of wit.