Here is Dr Johnson’s first “Idler” column. It was published in the Gentleman’s Magazine.

“Vacui sub umbra lusimus” means “at leisure we played in the shade”.

No. 1. SATURDAY, APRIL 15, 1758.

_–Vacui sub umbra

Lusimus_.–Hor. Lib. i. Ode xxxii. 1.

Those who attempt periodical essays seem to be often stopped in the

beginning, by the difficulty of finding a proper title. Two writers,

since the time of the Spectator, have assumed his name[1] without any

pretensions to lawful inheritance; an effort was once made to revive the

Tatler[2], and the strange appellations, by which other papers have been

called, show that the authors were distressed, like the natives of

America, who come to the Europeans to beg a name.

It will be easily believed of the Idler, that if his title had required

any search, he never would have found it. Every mode of life has its

conveniencies. The Idler, who habituates himself to be satisfied with

what he can most easily obtain, not only escapes labours which are often

fruitless, but sometimes succeeds better than those who despise all that

is within their reach, and think every thing more valuable as it is

harder to be acquired.

If similitude of manners be a motive to kindness, the Idler may flatter

himself with universal patronage. There is no single character under

which such numbers are comprised. Every man is, or hopes to be, an

Idler. Even those who seem to differ most from us are hastening to

increase our fraternity; as peace is the end of war, so to be idle is

the ultimate purpose of the busy.

There is perhaps no appellation by which a writer can better denote his

kindred to the human species. It has been found hard to describe man by

an adequate definition. Some philosophers have called him a reasonable

animal; but others have considered reason as a quality of which many

creatures partake. He has been termed likewise a laughing animal; but it

is said that some men have never laughed. Perhaps man may be more

properly distinguished as an idle animal; for there is no man who is not

sometimes idle. It is at least a definition from which none that shall

find it in this paper can be excepted; for who can be more idle than the

reader of the Idler?

That the definition may be complete, idleness must be not only the

general, but the peculiar characteristick of man; and perhaps man is the

only being that can properly be called idle, that does by others what he

might do himself, or sacrifices duty or pleasure to the love of ease.

Scarcely any name can be imagined from which less envy or competition is

to be dreaded. The Idler has no rivals or enemies. The man of business

forgets him; the man of enterprise despises him; and though such as

tread the same track of life fall commonly into jealousy and discord,

Idlers are always found to associate in peace; and he who is most famed

for doing nothing, is glad to meet another as idle as himself.

What is to be expected from this paper, whether it will be uniform or

various, learned or familiar, serious or gay, political or moral,

continued or interrupted, it is hoped that no reader will inquire. That

the Idler has some scheme, cannot be doubted, for to form schemes is the

Idler’s privilege. But though he has many projects in his head, he is

now grown sparing of communication, having observed, that his hearers

are apt to remember what he forgets himself; that his tardiness of

execution exposes him to the encroachments of those who catch a hint and

fall to work; and that very specious plans, after long contrivance and

pompous displays, have subsided in weariness without a trial, and

without miscarriage have been blasted by derision.

Something the Idler’s character may be supposed to promise. Those that

are curious after diminutive history, who watch the revolutions of

families, and the rise and fall of characters either male or female,

will hope to be gratified by this paper; for the Idler is always

inquisitive and seldom retentive. He that delights in obloquy and

satire, and wishes to see clouds gathering over any reputation that

dazzles him with its brightness, will snatch up the Idler’s essays with

a beating heart. The Idler is naturally censorious; those who attempt

nothing themselves, think every thing easily performed, and consider the

unsuccessful always as criminal.

I think it necessary to give notice, that I make no contract, nor incur

any obligation. If those who depend on the Idler for intelligence and

entertainment, should suffer the disappointment which commonly follows

ill-placed expectations, they are to lay the blame only on themselves.

Yet hope is not wholly to be cast away. The Idler, though sluggish, is

yet alive, and may sometimes be stimulated to vigour and activity. He

may descend into profoundness, or tower into sublimity; for the

diligence of an Idler is rapid and impetuous, as ponderous bodies forced

into velocity move with violence proportionate to their weight.

But these vehement exertions of intellect cannot be frequent, and he

will therefore gladly receive help from any correspondent, who shall

enable him to please without his own labour. He excludes no style, he

prohibits no subject; only let him that writes to the Idler remember,

that his letters must not be long; no words are to be squandered in

declarations of esteem, or confessions of inability; conscious dulness

has little right to be prolix, and praise is not so welcome to the Idler

as quiet.

[1] The Universal Spectator in 1728, by the celebrated antiquary William

Oldys.

The Female Spectator in 1744, by Eliza Haywood.

These were followed by the New Spectator in 1784; and lastly, by the

Country Spectator in 1792. This last is a production of very

considerable merit.

[2] This attempt was made in 1750, under the title of the Tatler

Revived. After a short trial it completely failed.