The Project Gutenberg eBook, Boswelliana, by Charles Rogers

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:

—The text includes a few superscripted words which might be construed as attempts at correction.

BOSWELLIANA.

From an original sketch by Langton.

BOSWELLIANA

THE COMMONPLACE BOOK

OF

JAMES BOSWELL

WITH A MEMOIR AND ANNOTATIONS

BY THE

Rev. CHARLES ROGERS, LL.D.,

HISTORIOGRAPHER OF THE ROYAL HISTORICAL SOCIETY, FELLOW OF THE SOCIETY
OF ANTIQUARIES OF SCOTLAND, AND CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF
THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF NEW ENGLAND.

AND INTRODUCTORY REMARKS

BY THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOUGHTON.

LONDON

PRINTED FOR THE GRAMPIAN CLUB

1874

MEMBERS OF THE GRAMPIAN CLUB.

His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, Patron.

His Grace the Duke of Argyll, K.T.
His Grace the Duke of Athole.
Right Hon. the Earl of Aberdeen.
Right Hon. the Earl of Airlie.
Sir Robert John Abercrombie, Bart., of Birkenbog.
General Sir John Aitchison, K.C.B., G.C.B.
The University of Aberdeen.
Robert Vans Agnew, Esq., of Sheuchan, M.P.
Lieut.-Colonel W. R. E. Alexander.
Lieut.-Colonel A. Stewart Allan.
John Addis, Esq.
Robert Barclay Allardice, Esq.
George Anderson, Esq.
John Anderson, Esq.
James Anderson, Esq., Q.C.
Peter Anderson, Esq.
Edward Adamson, Esq., M.D.
J. W. Adamson, Esq.
Francis Aberdein, Esq., of Keithock.
Walter Armstrong, Esq.
F. S. Arnott, Esq., C.B.
John Aiton, Esq.
Charles J. Alexander, Esq.
John Anderson, Esq., LL.D., C.E.
John Macaulay Arnaud, Esq.
The Most Hon. the Marquess of Bute.
Right Hon. Lord Borthwick.
Right Hon. Lord Burleigh.
Colonel Balfour of Balfour.
Arthur James Balfour, Esq.
John Balfour, Esq., of Balbirnie.
Robert Brown, Esq., of Underwood Park.
Sir Alexander Bannerman, Bart.
Lieut.-General Walter John Browne, C.B.
The Rev. G. R. Badenoch, LL.D., F.R.H.S.
Joseph Bain, Esq., F.S.A. Scot.
Edward Chisholm Batten, Esq., M.A., F.R.S.E., of Aigas.
Richard Bennet, Esq.
Patrick Buchan, Esq., Ph.D.
John Buchanan, Esq., LL.D.
W. G. Beattie, Esq.
John Blackie, Esq.
Mark Boyd, Esq., of Merton Hall.
John Boyd, Esq., M.D.
Rev. George Weare Braikenridge, F.S.A. Scot.
Richard Rolt Brash, Esq. M.R.I.A.
A. J. Dennistoun Brown, Esq., of Balloch Castle.
Adam Brown, Esq.
John Brown, Esq.
James William Baillie, Esq., of Culter Allers.
Alexander Beattie, Esq., J.P.
Colin Rae Brown, Esq.
Walter Berry, Esq., F.S.A. Scot.
William Blewitt, Esq.
John Buchanan, Esq.
James Brunlees, Esq.
William Cunliffe Brooks, Esq., M.P.
Right Hon. the Earl of Camperdown.
Right Hon. the Earl of Cawdor.
Right Hon. Lord Clinton.
Thomas Leslie Melville Cartwright, Esq.
Major Pemberton Campbell.
Captain Campbell.
James Campbell, Esq.
Rev. Francis Cameron, D.D.
Charles Clark, Esq.
J. Ross Coulthart, Esq., F.S.A. Scot.
George Cruikshank, Esq., Honorary.
Skene Craig, Esq.
Benjamin Bond Cabbell, Esq., F.R.G.S.
Benjamin Bond Cabbell, Esq., jun.
Thomas Constable, Esq.
R. H. Campbell, Esq.
R. Campbell, Esq.
Lieut.-Colonel D. Campbell.
F. R. Campbell, Esq.
David A. Carnegie, Esq.
Colonel Charles Cheape.
William Cook, Esq.
A. Angus Croll, Esq.
J. A. Chalmers, Esq., F.S.A. Scot.
F. de Chaumont, Esq.
Captain A. M’Ra Chisholm.
George Christie, Esq.
Jonathan Henry Christie, Esq.
James Crichton, Esq., Kilbryde Castle.
Frederick William Cosens, Esq.
Thomas Craig Christie, Esq., of Bedley.
George T. Clark, Esq., of Dowlais.
T. Moir Clark, Esq.
John Coutts, Esq.
George R. Cox, Esq.
Colonel John H. Corsar.
Captain George Frederick Russell Colt.
The Chisholm.
Chetham Library, Manchester.
Charles Chalmers, Esq.
Anderson Cooper, Esq.
Right Hon. the Earl of Dalhousie, K.T.
Right Hon. the Earl of Dunmore.
Duncan Davidson, Esq., of Tulloch.
George Stirling Home Drummond, Esq., of Blair Drummond.
General John Drummond, F.R.G.S.
Alexander Duncan, Esq.
W. A. Duncan, Esq.
James W. Davidson, Esq.
John Arthur Dalziel, Esq.
A. G. Dallas, Esq., of Dunain.
Peter Denny, Esq.
Edward Octavius Douglas, Esq., of Killichassie.
James Davidson, Esq., of Ruchell.
Hector Drysdale, Esq.
George H. Dickson, Esq.
William Dickson, Esq., J.P., F.S.A., F.S.A. Scot.
A. H. Dennistoun, Esq.
Right Hon. the Earl of Elgin.
Right Hon. the Lord Elibank.
William Euing, Esq., F.R.S.E., F.S.A. Scot.
Andrew Edgar, Esq., LL.D.
The University of Edinburgh.
John Elphinstone, Esq.
Miss Mary Caroline Edgar.
Logan B. Edgar, Esq.
William Erskine, Esq.
John Alexander Ewen, Esq.
James D. Edgar, Esq., M.P., Canada.
Jonathan Edgar, Esq.
Right Hon. the Earl of Fife.
Sir William G. N. T. Fairfax, Bart.
Robert Francis Fairlie, Esq.
A. Falconer, Esq.
Thomas Falconer, Esq.
James R. Ferguson, Esq.
Sir William Forbes, Bart., of Craigievar.
Peter Forbes, Esq.
David Forsyth, Esq.
J. W. Fleming, Esq., F.R.C.S.
Robert Ferguson, Esq.
Robert O. Farquharson, Esq., F.S.A., of Haughton.
Francis Garden Fraser, Esq., of Findrack.
F. Mackenzie Fraser, Esq.
William Fraser, Esq., Edinburgh.
John Fowler, Esq., of Braemore.
William Nathaniel Fraser, Esq., of Tornaveen.
James Fletcher, Esq.
William Fraser, Esq., London.
Peter S. Fraser, Esq.
Right Hon. the Earl of Glasgow.
Lieut.-General Sir J. Hope Grant, G.C.B.
University of Glasgow.
William Galbraith, Esq.
Thomas L. Galbraith, Esq.
H. J. Galbraith, Esq.
J. Graham Girvan, Esq.
Lieut.-Colonel G. Gardyne.
Samuel Gordon, Esq.
J. Chisholm Gooden, Esq.
Peter Graham, Esq.
James Graham, Esq.
W. Cosmo Gordon, Esq., of Fyvie.
Alexander Gordon, Esq.
George J. R. Gordon, Esq., yr., of Ellon.
John Gordon, Esq.
James Guthrie, Esq.
Captain Alexander Graeme, R.N.
E. W. Garland, Esq.
Arbuthnot C. Guthrie, Esq., of Duart.
Colonel C. J. Guthrie, of Scots Calder.
C. Seaton James Guthrie, Esq., Jun., of Scots Calder.
John Gray, Esq., Q.C.
Thomas Gray, Esq.
The Most Hon. the Marquis of Huntly.
The Right Hon. the Earl of Hopetoun.
The Right Hon. the Earl of Home.
Right Hon. Lord Herries.
Right Hon. Lord Houghton, F.S.A.
Rev. J. O. Haldane.
Peter Hall, Esq.
Archibald Hume, Esq.
Robert Hay, Esq., of Nunraw.
James Henderson, Esq.
Archibald Hamilton, Esq., of South Barrow.
H. W. Hope, Esq., of Luffness.
Major John Fergusson Home, of Bassendean.
William Crichton Hepburn, Esq.
Alexander Howe, Esq., W.S.
Charles Edward Hamilton, Esq.
Henry Huggins, Esq.
William H. Hill, Esq.
Charles A. Howall, Esq.
John Hannan, Esq.
The Rev. J. Brodie Innes, of Milton Brodie.
Richard Johnson, Esq.
James Auldjo Jamieson, Esq., W.S.
Andrew Jamieson, Esq.
Colonel W. Ross King, of Tertowie, F.R.G.S., F.S.A. Scot.
Rev. William A. Keith, M.A.
Thomas Kennedy, Esq.
George R. Kinloch, Esq.
John Roger Kinninmont, Esq.
George Middleton Kiell, Esq.
Frederick Baker Kirby, Esq.
The Right Hon. the Earl of Lauderdale.
Alexander Laing, Esq., F.S.A. Scot.
J. W. Larking, Esq.
James Forbes Leith, Esq., of Whitehaugh.
John Lambert, Esq.
Rev. James Legge, D.D., LL.D.
William Leask, Esq.
J. Lenox, Esq.
James Lawrie, Esq.
Alexander Leslie, Esq.
James W. Laidlay, Esq., F.R.S.E., F.R.S. Scot.
James Lawrence, Esq.
David Laing, Esq., LL.D., F.S.A. Scot., Honorary.
William Lidderdale, Esq.
Hugh G. Lumsden, Esq., of Clova.
Right Hon. the Earl of Mar.
Right Hon. the Earl of Minto.
Right Hon. the Earl of Moray.
Keith Stewart Mackenzie, Esq., of Seaforth.
William Alexander Mackinnon, Esq., C.B.
P. Mackinnon, Esq.
The Mackintosh.
Donald MacIntyre, Esq.
Alexander Mackintosh, Esq.
Angus Mackintosh, Esq., of Holme.
Captain Colin Mackenzie.
William Menelaus, Esq.
William MacCash, Esq.
A. M’Culloch, Esq.
Charles Fraser Mackintosh, Esq., of Drummond, M.P.
Donald MacInnes, Esq.
Alexander MacInnes, Esq.
Hugh A. Mackay, Esq.
R. B. E. Macleod, Esq., of Cadboll.
T. Comyn Macgregor, Esq., of Brediland.
Hugh Edmonstoune Montgomerie, Esq., F.S.A.
John D. Macdonald, Esq., M.D., F.R.S.
J. S. Muschet, Esq., M.D., of Birkhill.
Sir James Ranald Martin, C.B., F.R.S.
W. H. Macfarlane, Esq.
George Macfarlane, Esq.
F. W. Malcolm, Esq.
John Malcolm, Esq.
I. McBurney, LL.D., F.S.A. Scot., F.E.I.S.
William Thomas Morrison, Esq.
John Whitefoord Mackenzie, W.S.
Colonel Macdonald Macdonald, of St. Martins.
Sir Robert Menzies, Bart., of Castle Menzies.
Sir Kenneth Mackenzie, Bart.
Robert W. Mylne, Esq., F.R.S., F.G.S., F.S.A. Scot.
Rev W. O. Macfarlane, M.A. Oxon.
Sir William Maxwell, Bart., of Monreith.
F. Maxwell, Esq., of Gribton.
J. Milne, Esq.
James Cornwall Miller, Esq.
Captain C. Munro, of Foulis.
Alexander B. M’Gregor, Esq.
L. Mackinnon, Esq.
John M’Rae, Esq.
David W. Murray, Esq.
James D. Marwick, Esq.
John M’Ewan, Esq.
David P. M’Euen, Esq.
Peter Handyside M’Kerlie, Esq.
Robert Mure M’Kerrell, Esq.
D. Macneil, Esq.
J. B. Murdoch, Esq.
J. W. M’Cardie, Esq., of Newpark, F.R.H.S.
James Maclaren, Esq.
William M’Combie, Esq., of Easterskene.
John C. M’Naughton, Esq., of Kilellan.
George M’Corquodale, Esq.
Colin James Mackenzie, Esq.
Graeme R. Mercer, Esq., of Gorthy.
Right Hon. Lord Napier and Ettrick.
The Hon. Lord Neaves.
W. J. Newman, Esq.
James Neish, Esq., of Laws.
Hugh Neilson, Esq.
Donald Ogilvie, Esq., of Clova.
Thomas L. Kington Oliphant, Esq., of Gask, F.S.A.
Sir J. P. Orde, Bart., of Kilmory.
Dr. William O’Donnovan.
James G. Orchar, Esq.
Colonel J. Oliphant.
R. W. Cochran Patrick, Esq., of Ladyland.
Sir J. Noël Paton, R.A.
James Park, Esq.
Hugh Penfold, Esq.
Cornelius Paine, Esq.
W. S. Purves, Esq.
Alexander Pringle, Esq., of Yair.
His Grace the Duke of Richmond.
Right Hon. the Earl of Rosebery.
Right Hon. the Earl of Rosslyn.
John Rae, Esq., LL.D., F.S.A.
Lieut.-Colonel John Ramsay, of Barra.
William Rider, Esq.
Patrick Rankin, Esq., jun.
Rev. Charles Rogers, LL.D., F.R.H.S., F.S.A. Scot., Secretary, Grampian Lodge, Forest Hill, S.E.
E. William Robertson, Esq., of Chilcote.
Edward J. Reed, Esq., C.B., M.P.
James Robb, Esq.
Andrew Ramsay, Esq., LL.D., F.R.S.
Rev. David Ogilvy Ramsay.
Major Rose, of Kilravock.
George W. H. Ross, Esq.
James Ross, Esq.
Robert Hamilton Ramsay, Esq., M.D.
The Hon. Edward S. Russell.
George Russell, Esq.
William Reid, Esq., W.S., F.S.A. Scot.
R. Milne Redhead, Esq., F.L.S., F.R.G.S.
Right Hon. the Earl of Seafield.
Right Hon. the Earl of Strathmore.
Right Hon. the Earl of Stair.
Right Hon. Lord Saltoun.
Right Hon. Sir John Stuart, F.S.A. Scot.
The Hon. Sir Charles Farquhar Shand.
George Edwin Swithinbank, LL.D., F.S.A. Scot.
William H. Smith, Esq.
Alexander Smith, Esq.
Captain Robert Steuart, of Westwood.
David Semple, Esq., F.S.A. Scot.
Thomas Stratton, Esq., M.D.
Charles A. Stewart, Esq., of Achnacone.
James Stillie, Esq.
T. W. Swinburne, Esq.
Alexander B. Stewart, Esq.
Thomas Sopwith, Esq., F.R.S., F.R.H.S.
Charles Stewart, Esq., R.N., F.S.A. Scot.
A. Campbell Swinton, Esq., F.S.A. Scot., of Kimmerghame.
Charles Shaw, Esq.
Sion College, London.
Robert R. Stodart, Esq.
C. J. Stewart, Esq.
George Stewart, Esq.
William Stewart, Esq.
H. King Spark, Esq.
John Shand, Esq., W.S.
James Frederick Spurr, Esq.
The Right Hon. Lord Talbot de Malahide.
Sir Walter Calverly Trevelyan, Bart., F.S.A., F.G.S., F.S.A. Scot.
The Honourable Society of the Middle Temple.
Alexander Tod, Esq., F.S.A. Scot.
Charles Tennant, Esq.
Gilbert Rainey Tennent, Esq.
Robert Tennant, Esq.
W. J. Taylor, Esq., of Glenbarry.
Thomas Aubrey Turner, Esq.
John Turnbull, Esq.
John Tweed, Esq.
Andrew Usher, Esq.
Right Hon. Lord Wharncliffe.
Sir Albert William Woods, F.S.A.
Rev. John G. Wright, LL.D.
George Ferguson Wilson, Esq., F.R.S.
William Thorburn Wilson, F.S.A. Scot.
Archibald Weir, Esq., M.D.
Thomas A. Wise, Esq., M.D., F.S.A. Scot., F.R.H.S.
J. P. Wise, Esq., Rostellan Castle.
Miss Catherine Mary Watson.
Fountaine Walker, Esq., of Foyers.
J. A. Woods, Esq.
James Wingate, Esq.
Edward Wilson, Esq.
Charles H. H. Wilson, Esq., of Dalnair.
Mrs. W. Wilson.
Andrew Wark, Esq.
Rev. W. H. Wylie.
Allan A. Maconochie Welwood, Esq., of Meadowbank.
T. W. Spencer Waugh, Esq.
Randolph Gordon Erskine Wemyss, Esq., of Wemyss and Torrie.
Mrs. Wilkie.
Evan C. Sutherland Walker, Esq., of Skibo.

PREFACE.

James Boswell had not, by publishing his great work, the Life of Dr. Samuel Johnson, completed his literary plans. He preserved the letters he received from notable persons, and retained copies of his own. For many years he kept a journal, in which he recorded not merely his conversations with Dr. Johnson, but the diurnal occurrences of his own life. Respecting his journal, in a letter to his friend Mr. Temple, dated 22nd May, 1789, he writes:—“You have often told me that I was the most thinking man you ever knew; it is certainly so as to my own life. I am continually conscious, continually looking back or looking forward, and wondering how I shall feel in situations which I anticipate in fancy. My journal will afford materials for a very curious narrative. I assure you I do not now live with a view to have surprising incidents, though I own I am desirous that my life should tell.” Boswell evidently intended to adapt the contents of his journal to an autobiography; his early death precluded the intention.

Besides a journal, Boswell kept in a portfolio a quantity of loose quarto sheets, inscribed on each page Boswelliana. In certain of these sheets the pages are denoted by numerals in the ordinary fashion; another portion is numbered by the folios; while a further portion consists of loose leaves and letterbacks. The greater part of the entries are made so carefully as to justify the belief that the author intended to embody the whole in a volume of literary anecdotes.

At Boswell’s death his portfolio was sold along with the books contained in his house in London. It came into the possession of John Hugh Smyth Pigott, Esq., of Brockley Hall, Somersetshire, an indefatigable book collector. On Mr. Pigott’s death in 1861 the volume, bound in russia, was sold along with the stores of the Brockley library. Purchased by Mr. Thomas Kerslake, bookseller in Bristol, it was afterwards sold by him to Lord Houghton. By his lordship it was lately handed to the Grampian Club, with a view to publication.

Boswell’s commonplace-book exhibits some of the author’s weaknesses, but is on the whole a valuable repertory. The social talk of leading persons during the latter part of the century is graphically depicted. Considerable light is thrown on the character of individuals respecting whom every fragment of authentic information is treasured with interest. In preparing the commonplace-book for the press the Editor has omitted a few entries which transgressed on decorum. He has generally retained the author’s orthography.

The Memoir has been prepared with a desire to depict the author’s history in his own words. Letters to correspondents have been copiously introduced. Of these a most interesting portion have been obtained from the volume of Boswell’s Letters to Mr. Temple, published by Mr. Bentley, under the care of Mr. Francis. It is curious to remark that these letters, like the commonplace-book, left the family of the owner, and were accidentally discovered in the shop of a trader at Boulogne.

The Editor cannot venture to enumerate all the kind friends who have aided his inquiries. He has been indebted to Lord Houghton for important particulars. The representatives of Thomas David Boswell, the biographer’s brother, and of his uncle, Dr. John Boswell, have been most polite and obliging in their communications. The Rev. W. H. Wylie has kindly furnished Boswell’s address to the Ayrshire constituency.

Grampian Lodge,

Forest Hill, Surrey,

May, 1874.

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS

By Lord Houghton.

There is no word of vindication or appreciation to be added to Mr. Carlyle’s estimate of the character and merits of James Boswell. That judgment places him so high that the most fantastic dream of his own self-importance would have been fully realized, and yet there is no disguise of his follies or condonation of his vices. We understand at once the justice and the injustice of his contemporaries, and while we are amused at the thought of their astonishment could the future fame of the object of so much banter and rude criticism have been revealed to them, we doubt whether, had we been in their place, our misapprehension and depreciation would not have been still greater than theirs.

It was the object of Boswell’s life to connect his own name with that of Dr. Johnson; the one is now identified with the other. He aspired to transmit to future time the more transitory and evanescent forms of Johnson’s genius; he has become the repository of all that is most significant and permanent. The great “Dictionary” is superseded by wider and more accurate linguistic knowledge; the succinct and sententious biographies are replaced, where their subjects are sufficiently important, by closer criticisms and by antiquarian details, while in the majority of his subjects the Lives and Works of the writers are alike forgotten. The “Rambler” and the “Idler” stand among the British Essayists, dust-worn and silent; and though a well-informed Englishman would recognise a quotation from “Rasselas” or “London,” he would hardly be expected to remember the context.[1] But the “Johnsoniad” keeps fresh among us the noble image of the moralist and the man, and when a philosopher of our time says pleasantly of Boswell what Heinrich Heine said gravely of Goethe, that he measures the literary faculty of his friends by the extent of their appreciation of his idol, it is to a composite creation of the genius of the master and of the sympathetic talent of the disciple that is paid this singular homage. For it was assuredly a certain analogy of character that fitted Boswell to be the friendly devotee and intellectual servitor of Dr. Johnson, and the resemblances of style and manner which are visible even in the fragments brought together in this volume cannot be regarded as parodies or conscious imitations, but rather as illustrations of the mental harmony which enabled the reporter to produce with such signal fidelity, in the words of another, his own ideal of all that was good and great.

“Elia,” with his charming othersidedness, writes, in one place, “I love to lose myself in other men’s minds,” and in another, “the habit of too constant intercourse with spirits above you instead of raising you, keeps you down; too frequent doses of original thinking from others restrains what lesser portion of that faculty you may possess in your own. You get entangled in another man’s mind, even as you lose yourself in another man’s ground; you are walking with a tall varlet, whose strides outpace yours to lassitude.” Both observations are true, and instances are not wanting of the spirit of reverence and the habit of waiting on the words and thoughts of those who are regarded as the spokesmen of authority, emasculating the self-reliance and thralling the free action of superior men. This is especially observable in political life, where a certain surrender of independence is indispensable to success, but where, if carried too far, it tends to dwarf the stature and plane down the beneficial varieties of public characters. But there will always be many forces that militate against this courtliness in the Republic of Letters; leading men will have their clique, and too often like to be kings of their company, but more damage is done to themselves than to those who serve them, and there is little fear of too rapid a succession of Boswells or Eckermanns.

In these days of ready and abundant writing the value of Conversation, as the oral tradition of social intercourse, is not what it was in times when speech was almost the exclusive communicator of intelligence between man and man. Yet there will ever be an appreciation of the peculiar talent which reproduces with vivacity those fabrics of the hour, and gives to the passing lights and shades of thought an artistic and picturesque coherence. This is the product of a genial spirit itself delighting in the verbal fray, and of a society at once familiar and intellectual. We have from other sources abundant details of the vivacity of the upper classes of the Scottish community in the latter half of the last century and the beginning of the present. It had the gaiety which is the due relaxation of stern and solid temperaments, and the humour which is the genuine reverse of a deep sense of realities and an inflexible logic. It was intemperate, not with the intemperance of other northern nations, to whom intoxication is either a diversion to the torpor of the senses, or a narcotic applied by a benevolent nature to an anxious and painful existence, but with a conviviality which physical soundness and moral determination enabled them to reconcile with the sharpest attention to their material interests and with the hardest professional work.

FAC-SIMILE OF A PAGE OF BOSWELL’S COMMONPLACE BOOK

IN THE POSSESSION OF LORD HOUGHTON.

Scotland had had the remarkable destiny in its earlier history of assimilating to itself the elements of a finer civilisation without losing its independence or national character; and it had even interchanged with the continent of Europe various influences of manners and speech. It had thus retained a certain intellectual self-sufficiency, especially in its relations with English society and literature, which never showed itself more distinctly than in its estimate of Dr. Johnson and of his connection with Boswell. In the pamphlets, and verses, and pictures of the time, Boswell appears as a monomaniac, and Johnson as an impostor. The oblong quarto of Caricatures which followed their journey to the Hebrides shows that Boswell not only did not gain any favour from his countrymen, by introducing among them the writer, who, however little understood in his entire worth, nevertheless held a high place among English wits and men of letters, but brought abundant ridicule on himself, his family, and his friend. It required all Boswell’s invincible good humour to withstand the sarcasm that assailed him. Dr. Johnson certainly repaid with interest the prejudice and ill-will he encountered, but it remains surprising that so good and intelligent a company did not better recognise so great a man. We did not so receive Burns and Walter Scott. The agreeable reminiscences of Lord Cockburn and Dean Ramsay have given us the evening lights of the long day of social brightness which Scotland, and especially Edinburgh, enjoyed; and if this pleasantness is now a thing of the past, the citizens of the modern Athens have only shared the lot of other sections of mankind, even of France, par excellence, the country of Conversation.[2]

This decadence in the art and practice of the communication of ideas, and in the cultivation of facile and coloured language, is commonly attributed to the wide extension of literature and the press, which give to every man all the knowledge of matters of interest which he can require without the intervention of a fellow-creature. It may be that men may now read and think too much to talk, but the change is, perhaps, rather the effect of certain alterations in the structure of society itself, accompanied by the fastidiousness that tries to make up by silence and seclusion for the arbitrary distinctions and recognised barriers, which limited and defined the game of life, but admitted so much pleasant freedom within the rules. We can however, still acknowledge the value of such records as those of the late Mr. Nassau, Senior, whose “Conversations” with the most eminent politicians and men of action of his time, especially in France, afford trustworthy and interesting materials for the future historian, and where a legal mind and well-trained observation take the place of vivid representation and literary skill. “Quand un bon mot,” writes Monsieur L.’Enfant in one of his prefaces to his “Poggiana” “est en même temps un trait d’Histoire, on fait aisèment grace à’ce qui peut lui manquer du côté de la force et du sel.”

The title of “Boswelliana,” which the editor has taken from the original manuscript, is hardly correct. This is, in fact, one of the note-books of the anecdotes and facetiæ of the society in which Boswell lived; and though such a use of the termination may find some analogy in the Luculliana,—cherries that Lucullus brought from Pontus—and the Appiana—apples introduced into Rome by him of the Appian way,—yet the term “Ana,” in its most important applications, has always referred not to the collector, but to the personage or at any rate to the subject-matter of the book. Some vindication for its use on the present occasion may, however, be found in those instances in which Boswell acts as Bozzy to himself, and where the opinions and the mode of enunciating them are so thoroughly Boswellian that they give a characteristic flavour to the whole. What can be more delightfully his own than the prefixes “Uxoriana,” and “My son Alexander?”

There is some mystery in the insertion of certain occasional Johnsoniana, which could hardly have found their way into this collection, if Boswell had at the time been keeping special memoranda of his great Oracle. They are not very numerous nor consecutive, nor do they imply that at the time they were taken down they were intended as portions of the magnum opus. Most of them, however, are incorporated in it, and are only repeated here to preserve the integrity of the manuscript. The few omissions, such as they are, are of the same character as the lacunæ in the Temple letters.

The historical and biographical annotation of these anecdotes has been a work requiring considerable local knowledge and antiquarian research. Executed, as it is, by Dr. Rogers, it affords an interesting social picture of the Scotland of the day, and there are many families still living, who will here gladly recognise and welcome the words and thoughts of their ancestors.

MEMOIR
OF
JAMES BOSWELL.

As Dr. Johnson’s biographer, and the chronicler of his conversations, James Boswell is entitled to remembrance. On the publication of his “Life of Johnson,”—though seven years had elapsed since the moralist’s decease, and two memoirs had in the interval appeared,—a deep interest was excited; and the author, whose peculiarities had hitherto subjected him to ridicule, at once attained a first place as a biographer. Time, which effects many changes in literary popularity, has borne in an even current the “Life of Johnson,” and therewith in every home of lettered Britons has rendered familiar the name of Boswell.

Representing a landed branch of a Norman House, James Boswell inherited no small share of family pride, a point of character which under proper regulation might have proved salutary. Sieur de Bosville accompanied William of Normandy into England, and held a considerable command at the battle of Hastings. His descendants migrated into Scotland during the reign of David I., and there acquired lands in the county of Berwick. Robert Bosville obtained the lands of Oxmuir, in Berwickshire, under William the Lion; he witnessed many charters in the reign of that monarch. He was father of Adam de Bosville de Oxmuir, whose name appears in an obligation of Philip de Lochore in 1235, during the reign of Alexander II. In the lands of Oxmuir he was succeeded by his son Roger, and his grandson William de Bosville, the latter of whom was compelled with other barons to swear fealty to Edward I. in 1296. Richard, son of William, obtained from King Robert the Bruce, lands near Ardrossan, in Ayrshire, in addition to his estates in Berwickshire.

Roger de Boswell, second son of Richard of Oxmuir, married in the reign of David II., Mariota, daughter and co-heiress of Sir William Lochore of that ilk, with whom he obtained half the barony of Auchterderran, in Fife. In this barony he was succeeded by his son John de Boswell, who espoused Margaret, daughter of Sir Robert Melville, of Carnbee. Their son, Sir William Boswell, was judge in a perambulation of the lands of Kirkness and Lochore. He married Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Alexander Gordon, with whom he got some lands in the constabulary of Kinghorn. His son, Sir John Boswell, designed of Balgregie, married, early in the fifteenth century, Mariota, daughter of Sir John Glen, and with her obtained the barony of Balmuto, in Fife.

Sir John Boswell, of Balmuto, was succeeded by his son David, who married first Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Melville, of Raith, and secondly, Isabel, daughter of Sir Thomas Wemyss, of Rires, relict of David Hay, of Naughton. Robert, younger son by the first marriage, became parson of Auchterderran, and was much esteemed for his piety and learning: he attained his hundredth year. David, the elder son, obtained, in 1458, from James II., by a charter under the great seal, the lands of Glasmont, in Fife. He married first Grizel, daughter of Sir John Wemyss of that ilk; and secondly, in 1430, Lady Margaret Sinclair, daughter of William, Earl of Orkney and Caithness. Thomas, eldest son of the second marriage, obtained from James IV., as a signal mark of royal favour, the estate of Auchinleck,[3] in Ayrshire. He was slain at Flodden on the 9th September, 1513. By his wife Annabella, daughter of Sir Hugh Campbell, of Loudoun, he had an only son David, who, succeeding to the paternal estate, espoused Lady Janet Hamilton, daughter of James, first Earl of Arran. David was succeeded by his son John, whose first wife was Christian, daughter of Sir Robert Dalzell, of Glenae, progenitor of the Earls of Carnwath. Of this marriage, James, the eldest son, succeeded to Auchinleck. He died in 1618, leaving by his wife, Marion Crawford, of Kerse, six sons, three of whom entered the service of Gustavus Adolphus, and ultimately settled in Sweden. David Boswell, the eldest, succeeded to Auchinleck; he was an ardent supporter of Charles I., and was fined ten thousand marks for refusing to subscribe the Covenant. He married Isabel, daughter of Sir John Wallace, of Cairnhill, but having no male issue, he was at his death in 1661 succeeded by his nephew David, son of his next brother James by his wife, a daughter of Sir James Cunninghame, of Glengarnock.

David Boswell of Auchinleck espoused Anne, daughter of James Hamilton of Dalziel, by whom, besides three daughters, he had two sons, James and Robert. The latter settled in Edinburgh as a Writer to the Signet, and acquiring a handsome fortune, purchased from his kinsman, Andrew Boswell, the estate of Balmuto, which had belonged to his ancestors. His son, Claude James Boswell, born in 1742, passed advocate in 1766, and after serving eighteen years as sheriff of Fife, was in 1798 raised to the bench, under the judicial title of Lord Balmuto.[4] His lordship died on the 22nd July, 1824.

James Boswell, elder son of David Boswell of Auchinleck, succeeded to the paternal estate: he practised as an advocate, and attained considerable eminence in his profession. By his wife, Lady Elizabeth Bruce, daughter of Alexander, second Earl of Kincardine, he had two sons and a daughter, Veronica; she married David Montgomerie, of Lainshaw, and his daughter Margaret espoused James Boswell, the subject of this memoir. John, younger son of James Boswell of Auchinleck, studied medicine, and became censor of the Royal College of Physicians, Edinburgh. Alexander, the elder son, succeeded to Auchinleck on his father’s death in 1748.

Through his father, Alexander Boswell was attracted to legal studies; he passed advocate 29th December, 1729, and after a period of successful practice at the bar, was in 1743 appointed sheriff of Wigtonshire. He was raised to the bench in 1754, when he assumed the title of Lord Auchinleck;[5] he was appointed a Lord of Justiciary in the following year.

About the year 1739, Alexander Boswell married his cousin[6] Euphemia Erskine, descended of the ennobled House of Erskine of Mar. Her father, Colonel John Erskine, was a younger son of the Hon. Sir Charles Erskine, first baronet of Alva, and her mother was Euphemia, one of the four daughters of William Cochrane of Ochiltree, a scion of the noble House of Dundonald by his wife Lady Mary Bruce, eldest daughter of Alexander, second Earl of Kincardine. Of the marriage of Alexander Boswell and Euphemia Erskine were born three sons: John, the second son, became a military officer and died unmarried; David, the youngest, entered a house of business, and at the close of his apprenticeship in 1768 joined partnership with Charles Herries, a Scotsman, and Honorius Dalliol, a Frenchman, in establishing a mercantile house at Valencia in Spain. On account of the Spaniards being prejudiced against the name of David, as of Jewish origin, he assumed the Christian name of Thomas. On account of the war he left Spain in 1780, when he settled in London, and commenced business as a merchant and banker. He afterwards accepted a post in the Navy Office, where he became the head of the Prize Department. He purchased the estate of Crawley Grange, Buckinghamshire, and died in 1826. A man of grave deportment and correct morals, he was esteemed for his discretion, urbanity, and intelligence. By his marriage with Anne Catherine, sister of General Sir Charles Green, Bart., he became father of one child, Thomas David, who was born 24th September, 1800. This gentleman succeeded his father in the estate of Crawley Grange; he married in 1841 Jane, daughter of John Barker, Esq. Having died without issue, his estate passed to another branch of the Boswell family.

James Boswell, eldest son of Lord Auchinleck, was born at Edinburgh on the 29th October, 1740. He received his rudimentary training from a private tutor, Mr. John Dun, a native of Eskdale, and who, on the presentation of his father, was, in 1752, ordained minister of Auchinleck. He was afterwards sent to a school at Edinburgh, taught by Mr. James Mundell, a teacher of eminence. Afterwards he was enrolled as a pupil in the High School, under Mr. John Gilchrist, one of the masters, a celebrated classical scholar.[7]

Possessed of strong religious and political convictions, Lord Auchinleck sought to imbue his children with a love of Presbyterianism and a loyal attachment to the House of Hanover. In those aims he was assisted by his wife, a woman of vigorous sagacity and most exemplary piety. To her affectionate counsel rather than to the wishes of his father, the eldest son was disposed to yield some reverence. But he early affected to despise the simple ritual of the Presbyterian Church, and in direct antagonism to his father’s commands he declared himself a Jacobite and a warm adherent of the exiled House. He related to Dr. Johnson, that when his father prayed for King George, he proceeded to pray for King James, till one day his uncle, General Cochrane, gave him a shilling on condition that he would pray for the Hanoverian monarch. The bribe overcame his scruples, and he did as he was asked.

With a view to his becoming an advocate at the Scottish Bar, Boswell entered the University of Edinburgh. There he formed the acquaintance of Mr. William Johnson Temple, from Allardine in Northumberland, a young gentleman preparing in the literary classes for orders in the English Church. Mr. Temple was Boswell’s senior, and much surpassed him in general knowledge. He belonged to an old and respectable, if not an affluent family, and he was of a pleasing and gentlemanly deportment. The exiled king being forsaken, he became Boswell’s next hero. In parting from him at the close of their first college session, Boswell begged that their friendship might be maintained by correspondence; and letters actually passed between them for thirty-seven years. To Boswell’s share of that correspondence we are indebted for many materials illustrative of his life.

It will be convenient at this point to present a few particulars of Mr. Temple’s career, closely associated as that gentleman was with the subject of our history. After leaving Edinburgh he sustained the loss of a considerable fortune through the embarrassments of his father. Proceeding to the University of Cambridge, he took the degree of LL.B., and soon afterwards entered into orders. In 1767 he was preferred to the Rectory of Mamhead, Devonshire, which, added to the Vicarage of St. Gluvias, Cornwall, brought him, with the remains of his private fortune, an income of £500 a year. In youth he afforded proof of original power; he was a considerable politician, and an excellent classical scholar. He composed neatly; his character of the poet Gray, with whom he was acquainted, has been quoted approvingly by Dr. Mason, his biographer, and likewise by Dr. Johnson. He published an essay on the studies of the clergy, another “On the Abuse of Unrestrained Power,” and “A Selection of Historical and Political Memoirs;” but none of these compositions were much sought after. He died on the 8th August, 1796, surviving our author little more than a year. He was oppressed by an habitual melancholy, which the untoward temper of his wife served materially to intensify. He has been described as “Boswell’s faithful monitor;” he was scarcely so, for his remonstrances were feeble. Had he reproved sternly he might have been of some service.

In a letter to Mr. Temple dated 29th July, 1758, Boswell informs him that he had been introduced to Mr. Hume, whom he thus describes:—“He is a most discreet, affable man, as ever I met with, and has really a great deal of learning, and a choice collection of books. He is indeed an extraordinary man,—few such people are to be met with now-a-days. We talk a great deal of genius, fine language, improving our style, &c., but I am afraid solid learning is much wore out. Mr. Hume, I think, is a very proper person for a young man to cultivate an acquaintance with. Though he has not perhaps the most delicate taste, yet he has applied himself with great attention to the study of the ancients, and is likewise a great historian, so that you are not only entertained in his company, but may reap a great deal of useful instruction.”

When Mr. Temple proceeded to Cambridge he reported to his Edinburgh friend that he was studying in earnest. In his reply, dated 16th December, 1758, Boswell describes his own studies:—“I can assure you,” he writes, “the study of the law here is a most laborious task.... From nine to ten I attend the law class; from ten to eleven study at home; and from one to two attend a college [class] upon Roman antiquities; the afternoon and evening I always spend in study. I never walk except on Saturdays.” Thanking his friend for the perusal of a MS. poem he adds, “To encourage you I have enclosed a few trifles of my own.... I have published now and then the production of a leisure hour in the magazines. If any of these essays can give entertainment to my friend, I shall be extremely happy.”

On the importance of religion Boswell reciprocated his friend’s sentiments. After informing him that the continuance of his friendship made him “almost weep with joy,” he proceeds, “May indulgent Heaven grant a continuance of our friendship! As our minds improve in knowledge may the sacred flame still increase, until at last we reach the glorious world above when we shall never be separated, but enjoy an everlasting society of bliss. Such thoughts as these employ my happy moments, and make me—

‘Feel a secret joy

Spring o’er my heart, beyond the pride of kings.’”

After a reference to companionship he adds, “I hope by Divine assistance, you shall still preserve your amiable character amidst all the deceitful blandishments of vice and folly.”

In the same letter Boswell informed Mr. Temple that he had fallen desperately in love. The object of his affection was a Miss W—— t, for so he disguises her name—a reticence in matters of the heart which he does not evince subsequently. After expatiating on the lady’s charms and angelic qualities, especially her “just regard for true piety and religion,” he remarks that “she is a fortune of thirty thousand pounds.” With so large a dowry, he feels that she might be difficult to win, but he conceives that “a youth of his turn has a better chance to gain the affections of a lady of her character than of any other.” He adds complacently, “As I told you before, my mind is in such an agreeable situation, that being refused would not be so fatal as to drive me to despair.” He sums up by assuring his correspondent that he had entrusted the secret of his passion only to another whose name was “Love.”

Mr. Love was one of Boswell’s early heroes. A native of England, he was originally connected with Drury Lane Theatre, but for some cause he left London and sojourned at Edinburgh. There he at first practised private theatricals, but afterwards became a teacher of elocution. He read with Miss W—— t, and also with Boswell, though at different hours, and advised the latter to look after the pretty heiress. Boswell took the hint; but the dream soon passed away, for the name of the rich beauty does not reappear.

To his young friend Mr. Love administered more useful counsel by advising him to cultivate an easy style of composition. To accomplish this he recommended him to keep a journal or commonplace-book, and daily to record in it notes of conversations, and of more remarkable occurrences. Boswell acted on Mr. Love’s suggestion. Writing to Mr. Temple, he reports that having gone with his father to the Northern Circuit, he travelled in a chaise with Sir David Dalrymple the whole way, and that he kept an exact journal at the particular desire of his friend Mr. Love, and sent it to him in sheets, by every post. Such was Boswell’s first effort in journal-making; it was next to be practised on Paoli, and latterly, with unprecedented success, on Dr. Johnson. As to Mr. Love, it may be remarked that he compensated himself for his early counsel by sponging his pupil. “Love is to breakfast with me to-morrow,” wrote Boswell to Mr. Temple in July 1763. “I hope I shall get him to pay me up some more of what he owes me. Pray, is pay up an English phrase, I know pay down is?”

Sir David Dalrymple, Bart., better known by his judicial title of Lord Hailes, was now an Advocate Depute,[8] one of the faculty specially retained by the Crown for arraigning offenders in the Justiciary Court. An able lawyer, he had already afforded evidence of his ability and accurate scholarship in several separate publications and in various contributions to the periodicals. Possessing a fund of information which he communicated with much suavity of manner, Boswell hailed him as his Mæcenas. Having enrolled him among his divinities, he was disposed to idolize likewise all those whom he approved. Of these the most conspicuous was Dr. Samuel Johnson, whose existence was first made known to him in a post-chaise conversation. He was delighted to learn that he still lived, was the centre of a literary circle, had composed a literary medley styled the Rambler, and had edited a dictionary. As Sir David expatiated on his learning and his virtues, Boswell resolved that one day Johnson should have a place among his gods.

In November, 1759, Boswell entered the University of Glasgow as a student of civil law; he also attended the lectures of Dr. Adam Smith on moral philosophy and rhetoric. His evenings were spent in places of public amusement. From Mr. Love he had contracted a fancy for dramatic art, which in the absence of a licensed theatre he could not gratify in the capital. With more enlightened views the merchants of Glasgow tolerated theatrical representations, obtaining on their boards such talent as their provincial situation could afford. Among those who sought a livelihood at the Glasgow theatre was Francis Gentleman, a native of Ireland, and originally an officer in the army. This amiable gentleman sold his commission in the hope of obtaining fame and opulence as a dramatic author; but disappointed in obtaining a patron, he attempted to subsist as an actor. He was entertained by Boswell, who encouraged him to publish an edition of Southern’s tragedy of “Oroonoco,” himself accepting the poetical dedication. The dedicatory verses closed thus:—

“But, where, with honest pleasure, she can find
Sense, taste, religion, and good nature joined,
There gladly will she raise her feeble voice,
Nor fear to tell that Boswell is her choice.”

Boswell’s patronage did not avail the unfortunate player. He was compelled to leave Glasgow; thereafter he removed from place to place, “experiencing all the hardships of a wandering actor, and all the disappointments of a friendless author.” He died in September, 1784.

At Glasgow, while spending his week-day evenings in places of amusement, Boswell began to frequent on Sundays the services of the Church of Rome. Before the end of the College session he had resolved to embrace the Catholic faith, and to qualify himself for orders in the Romish Church. These vagaries were so distressing to his parents that he was recalled to Edinburgh. He consented to abandon his sacerdotal aspirations, provided he was allowed to substitute for the law the profession of arms. In March 1760 his father accompanied him to London in order to procure him a commission in the Guards. They waited on the Duke of Argyll, who, according to Boswell’s narrative, keenly discommended the military proposal. “My lord,” said the Duke, “I like your son; this boy must not be shot at for three shillings and sixpence a day.” Lord Auchinleck soon after returned to Edinburgh.

Boswell was allowed to remain in London. His religious views were opposed to his interests in the North, and it was evident that he would not be restrained from avowing his belief in public. It was therefore advisable that he should meanwhile reside in London. At the request of his father, Lord Hailes introduced him to Dr. Jortin, in the hope that that eminent divine would lead him to conform to the doctrines of the English Church. The following letter from Dr. Jortin to Lord Hailes, dated 27th April, 1760, would imply that Boswell had already, amidst the gaieties of London, ceased to concern himself with ecclesiastical questions:—

“Your young gentleman[9] called at my house on Thursday noon, April 3. I was gone out for the day, and he seemed to be concerned at the disappointment, and proposed to come the day following. My daughter told him that I should be engaged at church, it being Good Friday. He then left your letter, and a note with it for me, promising to be with me on Saturday morning. But from that time to this I have heard nothing of him. He began, I suppose, to suspect some design upon him, and his new friends and fathers may have represented me to him as an heretic and an infidel, whom he ought to avoid as he would the plague. I should gladly have used my best endeavours upon this melancholy occasion, but, to tell you the truth, my hopes of success would have been small. Nothing is more intractable than a fanatic. I heartily pity your good friend. If his son be really sincere in his new superstition, and sober in his morals, there is some comfort in that, for surely a man may be a papist and an honest man. It is not to be expected that the son should feel much for his father’s sorrows. Religious bigotry eats up natural affection, and tears asunder the dearest bonds. Yet, if I had an opportunity I should have touched that string, and tried whether there remained in his breast any of the veteris vestigia flammæ.”

To his early attachment to the Romish Church, Boswell afterwards refers only once. In a letter addressed to Mr. Temple in November, 1789, he remarks that his “Popish imagination induces him to regard his correspondent’s friendship as a kind of credit on which he may in part repose.”

With his father Boswell was not candid in his professed military ardour. In seeking a commission in the Guards, he informed Mr. Temple[10] his desire was “to be about court, enjoying the happiness of the beau monde and the company of men of genius.” As to military zeal he afterwards announced in a pamphlet,[11] that he was troubled with a natural timidity of personal danger, which cost him some philosophy to overcome.

He protracted his residence in London for a whole year. For some time he resided with Alexander, tenth Earl of Eglinton, a warm friend of the Auchinleck family. By his lordship he was introduced “into the circle of the great, the gay, and the ingenious.” Having been presented to the Jockey Club, and carried to Newmarket, he was deeply moved by the events of the racecourse. Retiring to the coffee-room he composed a poem, making himself the theme, though in styling himself “The Cub at Newmarket” he gratified his egotism by the forfeiture of dignity. Presented by Lord Eglinton to the Duke of York, he invited his Royal Highness to listen to his poem, and ventured to offer him the dedication. The Duke accepted what it would have been ungracious to refuse, and Boswell printed his poem with an epistle dedicatory, in which he “let the world know that this same Cub has been laughed at by the Duke of York, had been read to his Royal Highness by the genius himself, and warmed by the immediate beams of his kind indulgence.” Boswell thus describes himself:—

“Lord * * * * n, who has, you know,
A little dash of whim or so;
Who through a thousand scenes will range,
To pick up anything that’s strange,
By chance a curious cub had got,
On Scotia’s mountains newly caught;
And after driving him about
Through London, many a diff’rent route,
The comic episodes of which
Would tire your lordship’s patience much;
Newmarket Meeting being near,
He thought ’twas best to have him there.
*****
He was not of the iron race
Which sometimes Caledonia grace;
Though he to combat could advance,
Plumpness shone in his countenance;
And belly prominent declared
That he for beef and pudding cared;
He had a large and pond’rous head,
That seemed to be composed of lead;
From which hung down such stiff, lank hair,
As might the crows in autumn scare.”

For some time Lord Eglinton was amused by the juvenile ardour and vivacity of his guest. At length, overcome by his odd ways, he checked in plain terms his visitor’s vanity and recklessness. The admonition was probably unheeded, for his Lordship seems to have withdrawn his patronage. His own career was cut short by a sad and memorable occurrence; he was shot on his own estate by a poacher, whose firelock he had forcibly seized. He died on the 25th October, 1769.

In London, Boswell got acquainted with the poet Derrick, who became his companion and guide. Derrick was in his thirty-sixth year. A native of Dublin, he had been apprenticed to a linendraper, but speedily relinquished the concerns of trade. In 1751 he proceeded to London and tried his fortune on the stage. He next sought distinction as a poet. Introduced to Dr. Johnson, he obtained a share of the lexicographer’s regard; but, while entertaining affection for him as a man, the moralist reproved his muse and condemned his levity. Writing to Mr. Temple, Boswell refers to some of Derrick’s verses as “infamously bad.” When Nash died, Derrick succeeded him as master of ceremonies at Bath. He died there about the year 1770.

In April, 1761, Boswell, in reluctant obedience to his father’s wishes, returned to Edinburgh. Writing to Mr. Temple on the 1st May, he implores his friend’s commiseration. “Consider this poor fellow [meaning himself] hauled away to the town of Edinburgh, obliged to conform to every Scotch custom, or be laughed at—‘Will you hae some jeel? oh, fie! oh, fie!’—his flighty imagination quite cramped, and he obliged to study ‘Corpus Juris Civilis;’ and live in his father’s strict family; is there any wonder, sir, that the unlucky dog should be somewhat fretful? Yoke a Newmarket courser to a dung-cart, and I’ll lay my life on’t he’ll either caper or kick most confoundedly, or be as stupid and restive as an old battered post-horse.” In the same letter Boswell acknowledges that his behaviour in London had been the reverse of creditable. On his return to Edinburgh, he contributed to a local periodical some notes on London life. This narrative attracted the notice of John, thirteenth Lord Somerville, a nobleman of singular urbanity and considerable literary culture. His lordship invited the author to his table, commended his composition, and urged him to perseverance. Lord Somerville died in 1765. Boswell cherished his memory with affection.

At Edinburgh, Boswell was admitted into the literary circles. He dined familiarly with Lord Kames, was the disciple and friend of Sir David Dalrymple, and passed long evenings with Dr. Robertson and David Hume. His passion for the drama gained force. At this period there was no licensed theatre in Edinburgh, and among religious families playgoing was proscribed. Just five years had elapsed since the Rev. John Home, minister of Athelstaneford, had, on account of taking part in the private representation of his tragedy of “Douglas,” been constrained to resign his parochial charge. The popular prejudice against theatricals was a sufficient cause for our author falling into the opposite extreme; he threw his whole energies into a movement which led six years afterwards to a theatre being licensed in the capital.

Boswell’s chief associate in theatrical concerns was Mr. David Ross, a tragedian who sometime practised on the London boards, but who, like our author’s friends, Messrs. Love and Gentleman, had been driven northward by misfortune. A native of London, Mr. Ross was of Scottish parentage. His father had practised in Edinburgh as a Writer to the Signet; he settled in London in 1722 as a Solicitor of Appeals. Born in 1728, David, his only son, was sent to Westminster School. There he committed some indiscretion, which led to his expulsion and his father’s implacable resentment. For some years he earned subsistence as a commercial clerk, but obtaining from Quin lessons in the dramatic art, he came on Covent Garden stage in 1753, where he acquired a second rank as a tragedian. Irregular habits interfered with his advancement, and he proceeded to Edinburgh, in the hope of obtaining professional support. He became Master of Revels, and gave private entertainments which were appreciated and patronized. At length, on the 9th December, 1767, he was privileged to open the first licensed theatre in the capital. Boswell, at his request, composed the ‘prologue;’ the verses, now unhappily irrecoverable, were described by Lord Mansfield as “witty and conciliating.” The theatre proved a success, and the player soon afterwards acquired by marriage considerable emolument. He accepted as his wife Fanny Murray, who had in a less honourable connexion been associated with a deceased nobleman, receiving with her an annuity of two hundred pounds. Ross obtained a further advance of fortune in a manner singularly unexpected. On his death-bed his father made a will, excluding him from any share of his property, and cruelly stipulating that his sister “should pay him one shilling annually, on the first day of May, his birthday, to remind him of his misfortune in being born”! On the plea that by the law of Scotland, a person could not bequeath an estate by mere words of exclusion without an express conveyance of inheritance, Ross obtained a reduction of the settlement, and on a decision by the House of Lords got possession of six thousand pounds. He now retired from the Edinburgh theatre, and renewed his engagements at Covent Garden; but he soon became a victim to reckless improvidence. To the close Boswell cherished his society, though he did not venture to introduce him into literary circles. He died in September, 1790. The following extract from Boswell’s letter to Mr. Temple, dated 16th September, 1790, will close the narrative of his career:—

“My old friend Ross, the player, died suddenly yesterday morning. I was sent for, as his most particular friend in town, and have been so busy in arranging his funeral, at which I am to be chief mourner, that I have left myself very little time—only about ten minutes. Poor Ross! he was an unfortunate man in some respects; but he was a true bon vivant, a most social man, and never was without good eating and drinking, and hearty companions. He had schoolfellows and friends who stood by him wonderfully. I have discovered that Admiral Barrington once sent him £100, and allowed him an annuity of £60 a year.”

Among those of his own age and standing who supported Boswell in managing theatricals at Edinburgh was the Honourable Andrew Erskine, youngest son of Alexander, fifth Earl of Kellie. This young gentleman, then a lieutenant in the 71st regiment, was abundantly facetious, and composed respectable verses. Replying to a letter from Boswell, dated at Auchinleck on the 25th August, Erskine expressed himself in verse, and letters were exchanged on both sides for a considerable period. Boswell meanwhile resolved to lay further claim to the poet’s bays. In November he issued a poem in sixteen Spenserian stanzas, covering a like number of printed pages, entitled “An Ode to Tragedy, by a Gentleman of Scotland.” It was characteristically inscribed to himself—the epistle dedicatory proceeding thus:—

“The following ode which courts your acceptance is on a subject grave and solemn, and therefore may be considered by many people as not so well suited to your volatile disposition. But I, sir, who enjoy the pleasure of your intimate acquaintance, know that many of your hours of retirement are devoted to thought, and that you can as strongly relish the productions of a serious muse as the most brilliant sallies of sportive fancy.”

Writing to Erskine on the 17th December, Boswell further enlarges on his own personal qualities. “The author of ‘The Ode to Tragedy,’” he proceeds, “is a most excellent man; he is of an ancient family in the west of Scotland, upon which he values himself not a little. At his nativity appeared omens of his future greatness. His parts are bright, and his education has been good. He has travelled in post-chaises miles without number. He eats of every good dish, especially apple pie. He drinks old hock. He has a very fine temper. He is somewhat of a humourist, and a little tinctured with pride. He has a good manly countenance, and owns himself to be amorous. He has infinite vivacity, yet is observed at times to have a melancholy cast. He is rather fat than lean, rather short than tall, rather young than old. His shoes are neatly made, and he never wears spectacles.”

In 1760, Mr. Erskine edited the first volume of a work in duodecimo, entitled “A Collection of Original Poems, by the Rev. Mr. Blacklock and other Scotch gentlemen.” This publication contained compositions by Mr. Blacklock, Dr. Beattie, Mr. Gordon of Dumfries, and others; it was published by Alexander Donaldson,[12] an Edinburgh bookseller, and was intended as the first of a series of three volumes. The second volume was considerably delayed, owing to Mr. Erskine’s absence with his regiment, and on Boswell were latterly imposed the editorial labours. As contributors Erskine and Boswell were associated with Mr. Home, author of Douglas, Mr. Macpherson, editor of Ossian, and others. Of twenty-eight pieces from Boswell’s pen one is subjoined, eminently characteristic of its author.

“B——, of Soapers[13] the king,

On Tuesdays at Tom’s does[14] appear,

And when he does talk, or does sing,

To him ne’er a one can come near

For he talks with such ease and such grace,

That all charm’d to attention we sit,

And he sings with so comic a face,

That our sides are just ready to split.

“B—— is modest enough,

Himself not quite Ph[oe]bus he thinks,

He never does flourish with snuff,

And hock is the liquor he drinks.

And he owns that Ned C——t,[15] the priest,

May to something of honour pretend,

And he swears that he is not in jest,

When he calls this same C——t his friend.

“B—— is pleasant and gay,

For frolic by nature design’d;

He heedlessly rattles away

When the company is to his mind.

‘This maxim,’ he says, ‘you may see,

We can never have corn without chaff;’

So not a bent sixpence cares he,

Whether with him or at him you laugh.

“B—— does women adore,

And never once means to deceive,

He’s in love with at least half a score;

If they’re serious he smiles in his sleeve.

He has all the bright fancy of youth,

With the judgment of forty and five.

In short, to declare the plain truth,

There is no better fellow alive.”

Writing to Erskine on the 8th December, 1761, Boswell remarks that the second volume of the “Collection” was about to appear, adding that his friend would “make a very good figure, and himself a decent one.” But the public, while not disapproving the strain of the known authors, condemned the levity of the anonymous contributors, and thrust aside the book. The publishing enterprise was ruined, and the projected third volume did not appear.

Boswell determined to leave Edinburgh, assuring his father that a military life was alone suited to his tastes. In a letter to Erskine, dated the 4th of May, he proceeds:—

“My fondness for the Guards must appear very strange to you, who have a rooted antipathy at the glare of scarlet. But I must inform you that there is a city called London, for which I have as violent an affection as the most romantic lover ever had for his mistress. There a man may indeed soap his own beard, and enjoy whatever is to be had in this transitory state of things. Every agreeable whim may be fully indulged without censure. I hope, however, you will not impute my living in England to the same cause for which Hamlet was advised to go there, because the people were all as mad as himself.”[16]

Paternal remonstrances having proved unavailing, Boswell was permitted to return to the metropolis. From Parliament Place, Edinburgh, writing to Erskine on the 10th November, he informs him that “on Monday next he is to set out for London.” On the 20th November he writes from London, “If I can get into the Guards, it will please me much; if not, I can’t help it.”

Boswell brought from Scotland a recommendation to Charles, Duke of Queensberry, the patron of Gay, but that nobleman took no part in his concerns. He again sought the field of authorship. He and Erskine had corresponded on a variety of topics, and he fancied that their letters might attract attention. The letters were printed in an octavo volume,[17] Boswell remarking in the preface, that he and his correspondent “have made themselves laugh, and hope they will have the same effect upon other people.” Erskine and Boswell were afterwards associated in writing “Critical Strictures” on Mallet’s tragedy of “Elvira,” acted at Drury Lane in the winter of 1762-3. In 1764, Erskine published a drama entitled “She’s not Him, and He’s not Her; a Farce in Two Acts, as it is performed in the Theatre in the Canongate.” In 1773 he issued “Town Eclogues,” a poem of twenty-two quarto pages, intended “to expose the false taste for florid description which prevails in modern poetry.”

From the 71st Erskine in 1763 exchanged into the 24th Regiment, in which he became Captain. Retiring from the army, he settled at Edinburgh. There he resided after 1790 with his sister, Lady Colville, at Drumsheugh, near the Dean Bridge. He was an extraordinary pedestrian, and walked nearly every morning to Queensferry, about ten miles distant, where he breakfasted at Hall’s Inn. He dispensed with attendance, and when he had finished his repast, left payment under a plate. He was of a tall, portly form, and to the last wore gaiters and a flapped vest. Though satirical with his pen, he was genial and humorous in conversation. He was an early admirer and occasional correspondent of the poet Burns. Like his brother, “the musical Earl of Kellie,” he was a lover of Scottish melodies, and was one of a party of amateurs who associated with Mr. George Thomson in designing his “Collection of Scottish Airs.” He actively assisted Mr. Thomson in the earlier stages of his undertaking. Several songs from his pen, Burns, in a letter to Mr. Thomson, written in June, 1793, described as “pretty,” adding, his “Love song is divine.” The composition so described beginning “How sweet this lone vale,” became widely popular; but the opening stanza only was composed by him. He was one of the early friends of Archibald Constable, the eminent publisher, who, in an autobiographical fragment has described him as having “an excellent taste in the fine arts,” and being “the most unassuming man he had ever met.”[18] His habits were regular, but he indulged occasionally at cards, and was partial to the game of whist. Having sustained a serious loss at his favourite pastime he became frantic, and threw himself into the Forth, and perished. This sad event took place in September, 1793. In a letter to Mr. Thomson, dated October, 1791, Burns writes that the tidings of Erskine’s death had distressed and “scared” him.

From the day Sir David Dalrymple first named Dr. Samuel Johnson in the post-chaise, Boswell entertained a hope of forming the lexicographer’s acquaintance. On his former visit to London he had exerted some effort to procure an introduction. Derrick promised it, but lacked opportunity. During the summer of 1761, Thomas Sheridan lectured at Edinburgh on the practice of elocution, and charmed Boswell by descanting on Dr. Johnson’s virtues. Through Sheridan an introduction seemed easy, but Boswell on visiting him found that he and the lexicographer had differed. Boswell did not despair. He obtained leave to occupy his friend Mr. Temple’s chambers in the Inner Temple, near Dr. Johnson’s residence, and adjoining his well-known haunts.

A further effort was necessary. Boswell ingratiated himself with Mr. Thomas Davies, bookseller, of No. 8, Russell Street, Covent Garden, formerly a player. Mr. Davies knew Dr. Johnson well, saw him frequently in his shop, and was privileged to entertain him at his table. To meet Boswell, the lexicographer was invited more than once, but as our author puts it, “he was by some unlucky accident or other prevented from coming to us.” In an unexpected manner Boswell at length attained his wishes. The occurrence must be described in his own words:—“At last, on Monday, the 16th of May, when I was sitting in Mr. Davies’ back parlour, after having drunk tea with him and Mrs. Davies,[19] Johnson unexpectedly came into the shop; and Mr. Davies having perceived him through the glass door in the room in which we were sitting advancing towards us, he announced his awful approach to me something in the manner of an actor in the part of Horatio, when he addresses Hamlet on the appearance of his father’s ghost,—‘Look, my lord, it comes!’ * * * Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and respectfully introduced me to him. I was much agitated; and recollecting his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had heard much, I said to Davies, ‘Don’t tell where I come from.’ ‘From Scotland,’ cried Davies, roguishly. ‘Mr. Johnson,’ said I, ‘I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help it.’ I am willing to flatter myself that I meant this as light pleasantry to soothe and conciliate him, and not as a humiliating abasement at the expense of my country. But however that might be, this speech was somewhat unlucky; for with that quickness of wit for which he was so remarkable he seized the expression “come from Scotland,” which I used in the sense of being of that country; and as if I had said I had come away from it or left it, retorted, ‘That, sir, I find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot help.’ This stroke stunned me a good deal; and when we had sat down I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and apprehensive of what might come next. He then addressed himself to Davies: ‘What do you think of Garrick? He has refused me an order for the play for Miss Williams, because he knows the house will be full, and that an order would be worth three shillings.’ Eager to take any opening to get into conversation with him, I ventured to say, ‘Oh, sir, I cannot think Mr. Garrick would grudge such a trifle to you.’ ‘Sir,’ said he, with a stern look, ‘I have known David Garrick longer than you have done, and I know no right you have to talk to me on this subject.’ Perhaps I deserved this check; for it was rather presumptuous in me, an entire stranger, to express any doubt of the justice of his animadversion upon his old acquaintance and pupil. I now felt myself much mortified, and began to think that the hope which I had long indulged of obtaining his acquaintance was blasted. And in truth, had not my ardour been uncommonly strong, and my resolution uncommonly persevering, so rough a reception might have deterred me for ever from making any further attempts. Fortunately, however, I remained upon the field not wholly discomfited, and was soon rewarded by hearing some of his conversation.” Boswell closes his narrative thus:—“I had for a part of the evening been left alone with him, and had ventured to make an observation now and then, which he received very civilly, so that I was satisfied that though there was a roughness in his manner, there was no ill-nature in his disposition. Davies followed me to the door, and when I complained to him a little of the hard blows which the great man had given me, he kindly took upon him to console me by saying, ‘Don’t be uneasy. I can see he likes you very well.’”

Dr. Johnson regarded Boswell as an adventurer, who had come to London in quest of literary employment. Davies perceiving this, privately explained to him that Boswell was the son of a Scottish judge and heir to a good estate. “A few days afterwards,” writes Boswell, “I called on Davies, and asked him if he thought I might take the liberty of waiting on Mr. Johnson at his chambers in the Temple. He said I certainly might, and that Mr. Johnson would take it as a compliment. So upon Tuesday, the 24th of May, after having been enlivened by the witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton, Wilkes, Churchill, and Lloyd, with whom I had passed the morning, I boldly repaired to Johnson. His chambers were on the first floor of No. 1, Inner Temple Lane, and I entered them with an impression given me by the Rev. Dr. Blair, of Edinburgh, who had been introduced to me not long before and described his having ‘found the giant in his den,’ an expression which, when I came to be pretty well acquainted with Johnson, I repeated to him, and he was diverted at this picturesque account of himself. * * * He received me very courteously; but it must be confessed that his apartment and furniture and morning dress were sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of clothes looked very rusty; he had on a little old shrivelled unpowdered wig, which was too small for his head; his shirt-neck and knees of his breeches were loose; his black worsted stockings ill drawn up, and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers. But all these slovenly particularities were forgotten the moment that he began to talk. Some gentlemen, whom I do not recollect, were sitting with him; and when they went away I also rose, but he said to me, ‘Nay, don’t go.’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I am afraid that I intrude upon you. It is benevolent to allow me to sit and hear you.’ He seemed pleased with this compliment, which I sincerely paid him, and answered, ‘Sir, I am obliged to any man who visits me.’ * * * Before we parted he was so good as to promise to favour me with his company one evening at my lodgings; and as I took my leave, shook me cordially by the hand. It is almost needless to add that I felt no little elation at having now so happily established an acquaintance of which I had been so long ambitious.”

The evident sincerity of Boswell’s respect pleased and flattered Dr. Johnson. He listened to details of literary life in Edinburgh, and was gratified to learn that certain Scotsmen appreciated his learning. He visited Boswell in his chambers, and invited him to the Mitre Tavern, where afterwards they frequently supped, and drank port till long after midnight. At one of these festive meetings Boswell related the story of the post-chaise, and expatiated on the merits of Sir David Dalrymple with the ardour of a hero worshipper. Dr. Johnson toasted Sir David in a bumper as “a man of worth, a scholar, and a wit.” He added, “I have, however, never heard of him except from you; but let him know my opinion of him, for as he does not show himself much in the world, he should know the praise of the few who hear of him.” On the 2nd of July, Boswell communicated with Sir David Dalrymple in these terms:[20]—

“I am now upon a very good footing with Mr. Johnson. His conversation is instructive and entertaining. He has a most extensive fund of knowledge, a very clear expression, and much strong humour. I am often with him. Some nights ago we supped by ourselves at the Mitre Tavern, and sat over a sober bottle till between one and two in the morning. We talked a good deal of you. We drank your health, and he desired me to tell you so. When I am in his company I am rationally happy, I am attentive and eager to learn, and I would hope that I may receive advantage from such society.”

To Boswell’s letter, in its allusion to Dr. Johnson, Sir David Dalrymple made the following answer:—[21]

“It gives me pleasure to think that you have obtained the friendship of Mr. Samuel Johnson. He is one of the best moral writers which England has produced. At the same time I envy you the free and undisguised converse with such a man. May I beg you to present my best respects to him, and to assure him of the veneration which I entertain for the author of the ‘Rambler’ and of ‘Rasselas.’”

On the 15th July Boswell thus communicated with Mr. Temple:—

“I had the honour of supping tête-à-tête with Mr. Johnson last night; by-the-bye, I need not have used a French phrase. We sat till between two and three. He took me by the hand cordially, and said, ‘My dear Boswell, I love you very much.’ Now, Temple, can I help indulging vanity?”

After quoting a portion of Sir David Dalrymple’s letter, he proceeds:—

“Mr. Johnson was in vast good humour, and we had much conversation. I mentioned Fresnoy to him, but he advised me not to follow a plan, and he declared that he himself never followed one above two days. He advised me to read just as inclination prompted me, which alone, he said, would do me any good; for I had better go into company than read a set task. Let us study ever so much, we must still be ignorant of a good deal. Therefore the question is, what parts of science do we want to know? He said, too, that idleness was a distemper which I ought to combat against, and that I should prescribe to myself five hours a day, and in these hours gratify whatever literary desires may spring up. He is to give me his advice as to what books I should take with me from England. I told him that the Rambler shall accompany me round Europe, and so be a Rambler indeed. He gave me a smile of complacency.”

The tête-à-tête with Dr. Johnson on the 14th of July, so described to Mr. Temple, also forms the subject of a letter to Sir David Dalrymple. That letter proceeds thus:—[22]

“On Wednesday evening, Mr. Johnson and I had another tête-à-tête at the ‘Mitre.’ Would you believe that we sat from half an hour after eight till between two and three! He took me cordially by the hand and said, ‘My dear Boswell! I love you very much.’ Can I help being somewhat vain? * * * He advises me to combat idleness as a distemper, to read five hours every day, but to let inclination direct me what to read. He is a great enemy to a stated plan of study. He advises me when abroad to go to places where there is most to be seen and learnt. He is not very fond of the notion of spending a whole winter in a Dutch town. He thinks I may do much more by private study than by attending lectures. He would have me to perambulate (a word in his own style) Spain. He says a man might see a good deal by visiting their inland towns and universities. He also advises me to visit the northern kingdoms, where more that is new is to be seen than in France and Italy, but he is not against my seeing these warmer regions.”

These allusions to foreign travel refer to a proposal by Lord Auchinleck that his son should study civil law at Utrecht, and in which Boswell was disposed to acquiesce, believing that in thus gratifying his father’s wishes he might be permitted before returning home to visit the principal countries of the Continent.

On Wednesday, the 21st July, Johnson supped at Boswell’s chambers, when were also present Mr. George Dempster, M.P., and the host’s paternal uncle, Dr. John Boswell, from Edinburgh. The occasion was one of the most memorable in the course of Boswell’s intercourse with his illustrious associate. Dr. Boswell entertained loose notions of religion, and Mr. Dempster was a disciple of David Hume. Dempster made a violent attack on Christianity, repeating the arguments of Rousseau, and quoting approvingly the sentiments of Hume and Gibbon. Dr. Boswell preserved a general silence, but was disposed to smile approvingly at Dempster’s sallies. In the society of his new acquaintance, Dr. Johnson was appalled to find a bold upholder of infidel sentiments, and his indignation was proportionate. He assailed Dempster with much severity, exposing the sophistry of his school. Boswell took notes of the conversation, doubtless intending to utilize what he had written. Next morning he hastened to Dr. Johnson’s chambers to express disapproval of Dempster’s sentiments. Dr. Johnson answered, “I have not met with any man for a long time who has given me such general displeasure. He is totally unfixed in his principles, and wants to puzzle other people.” This utterance is presented by Boswell in Dr. Johnson’s memoirs with the prefatory remark, “Of a gentleman who was mentioned he said,” &c. Boswell became very intimate with Mr. Dempster, and so erased from his journal all memorials of the evening’s conversation. Not very creditably he affirms, in Johnson’s Life, that the evening was wholly occupied “in the discussion of social and political questions.” But the truth, which Boswell sought to suppress, reaches us in his own words from two different channels. To Mr. Temple, on the 23rd of July, he wrote thus:—

“On Wednesday evening, Mr. Johnson, Dempster, and my uncle Dr. Boswell, supped with me at my chambers. I had prodigious satisfaction to find Dempster’s sophistry (which he has learned from Hume and Rousseau) vanquished by the solid sense and vigorous reasoning of Johnson. It was a very fertile evening, and my journal is stored with its fruits. Dempster was as happy as a vanquished argumentator could he; and the honest Doctor was cheerful and conversible and highly entertained.”

On the same day Boswell communicated with Sir David Dalrymple in these words:—

“Mr. Johnson did me the honour to sup with me at my chambers some nights ago. Entre nous, he said that Dempster, who was also with me, gave him more general displeasure than any man he has met with of a long time. He saw a pupil of Hume and of Rousseau totally unsettled as to principles, and endeavouring to puzzle and shake other people with childish sophistry. I had infinite satisfaction in hearing solid truth confuting vain subtilty. * * * I thank God that I have got acquainted with Mr. Johnson. He has done me infinite service. He has assisted me to obtain peace of mind; he has assisted me to become a rational Christian; I hope I shall ever remain so.”[23]

In referring to his having become a rational Christian, Boswell desired to satisfy his Scottish Mæcenas that he had personally abandoned the superstitions of Romish worship. Mr. Dempster’s religious views, together with his personal history and his acquaintance with Boswell, may be finally disposed of. Grandson of George Dempster, merchant and banker at Dundee, he succeeded to several important estates, which his ancestor had acquired by granting extensive loans on mortgages to the former proprietors. Born in 1735, he studied at the University of Edinburgh, and in that city formed the intimacy of Dr. William Robertson, Alexander Carlyle, John Home, and other eminent clergymen. Under their auspices he sat as a lay member in the General Assembly; and in that court he opposed his friends by seconding the injunction of the House passed in 1757, forbidding the clergy to countenance theatricals.[24] Becoming acquainted with David Hume, he renounced Presbyterianism, and embraced infidelity. He abandoned the Scottish Bar to which he had been called, and became candidate for the parliamentary representation of the Fife and Forfar burghs. By a narrow majority he secured his seat, but he was convicted of bribery and the election was annulled. To accomplish his end he had sold two fine estates, and expended nearly £15,000. On presenting himself to the constituents the second time he was returned under less exceptionable circumstances. He retained his seat from 1762 till 1790. He would join no political party, probably owing to an uncertainty of judgment, which was partly an inheritance; two of his ancestors being deposed and afterwards restored to the ministry for certain changes in their civil and ecclesiastical opinions. According to Boswell he early cherished republican sentiments; latterly he resisted the revolutionary ferment created by the French Directory. By the general public he was esteemed a patriot, and was provincially known as “Honest George.” The poet Burns held that he should have been ennobled. He supported some liberal measures, and certain important services are associated with his name. He denounced the conflict with the American colonies, opposed the sovereignty exercised by the East India Company, sought to remove all restraints from the national commerce, and advocated the abolition of sinecures. On retiring from Parliament, he devoted himself to the promotion of agriculture and manufactures in North Britain. He established an agricultural society on his estate.[25] He improved the condition of the Scottish fisheries, and discovered a method of preserving salmon for the London market. He was much respected on his estate, was benevolent to the poor, and exercised a generous hospitality. He did not attend church on the plea of feeble health, but he associated with the clergy of his neighbourhood, and to his household spoke reverently of religion. In some twenty of his letters, written at intervals during a period of twenty-five years preceding his decease, the writer has on a close examination been unable to detect any remark savouring of scepticism. Yet it is nearly certain that he cherished to the close of a long life the blighting infidelity of David Hume. To the Right Hon. John Wilson Croker was communicated by Sir Walter Scott the following metrical epitaph, which it was alleged Mr. Dempster composed upon himself:—

“Pray for the soul of deceased George Dempster,
In his youth a great fool, in his old age a gamester;
What you’re to know, on this tomb you shall see,
Life’s thread he let go when just ninety-three.
So sound was his bottom, his acquaintance all wonder’d
How old Nick had got him till he lived out the hundred.
To his money concerns he paid little attention,
First selling his land, then pawning his pension;[26]
But his precious time he much better did manage,
To the end of his life from his earliest nonage,
He divided his hours into two equal parts,
And spent one half in sleeping, the other at cartes.”[27]

Mr. Dempster died on his estate of Dunnichen, Forfarshire, on the 13th February, 1818, at the age of eighty-four.

In May, 1763, two months before the period reached in the preceding narrative, Boswell asked Sir David Dalrymple to interpose with his father, who was threatening to disinherit him on account of his unsettled habits. He concludes a letter to Sir David in these words,—“Tell him to have patience with me for a year or two, and I may be what he pleases.” In June he informs Sir David that his father’s proposal that he should proceed to Utrecht, there to study civil law under the celebrated M. Trotz had met with his acceptance, and that his father was “much pleased to find in him so prudent a disposition.”[28]

He adds,—

“My great object is to attain a proper conduct in life. How sad will it be if I turn no better than I am! I have much vivacity, which leads me to dissipation and folly. This I think I can restrain. But I will be moderate, and not aim at a stiff sageness and buckram correctness. I must, however, own to you that I have at bottom a melancholy cast, which dissipation relieves by making me thoughtless, and therefore an easier though a more contemptible animal. I dread a return of this malady. I am always apprehensive of it.”

About the Utrecht scheme he writes to Mr. Temple on the 15th July, “I have had a long letter from my father, full of affection and good counsel. Honest man, he is now very happy: it is amazing to think how much he has had at heart my pursuing the road of civil life; he is anxious for fear I should fall off from my prudent system, and return to my dissipated, unsettled way of thinking; and in order to make him easy, he insists on having my solemn promise that I will persist in the scheme on which he is so earnestly bent: he knows my fidelity, and he concludes that my promise will fix me. Indeed he is much in the right; the only question is, how much I am to promise. I think I may promise this much,—that I shall from this time study propriety of conduct, and to be a man of knowledge and prudence, as far as I can; that I shall make as much improvement as possible while I am abroad, and when I return shall put on the gown as a member of the Faculty of Advocates, and be upon the footing of a gentleman of business, with a view to my getting into Parliament.”

For the use of Mr. Temple’s chambers Boswell paid his proportion of rent, but his occupancy was burdened with the condition that his friend’s brother, a youth of seventeen, might as occasion suited share the accommodation. This young gentleman, Mr. Robert Temple, held a commission in the line, but was not very ardent in his military duties. Boswell’s early intercourse with him was abundantly characteristic. To his brother he reported of him on the 15th July, that “his genius and application consisted in washing his face and brushing his hat, which he will execute in a few hours;” adding, “I find it somewhat inconvenient to have anybody in chambers with me.... I have allowed him to be too free with me; and I own it hurts me when I find my folly bringing me into the situation of being upon an equality with if not below the young man.” On the 23rd of July he in these doggerel verses celebrated the youth on his returning from a visit to Salisbury:—

“Bob Temple has at Sarum been,
And all the pretty girls has seen;
But he came back in the machine

Because he was the barber!

“From Mother Bowles he got good wine;
He licked his lips and called it fine;
But now the dog at Cliff’s must dine,

And is not that the barber?”

In a few days afterwards, Master Robert having begun to borrow one guinea after another, is described as “selfish,” of a “heedless disposition,” and having “no great powers either of understanding or imagination.” Boswell sums up; “I am glad he goes down to Cambridge.”

In his letter to Sir David Dalrymple of the 23rd July, Boswell enters into some details respecting the Utrecht scheme, and expresses a determination thoroughly to acquaint himself with the law of nations. He has resolved to transcribe the whole of Erskine’s Institutes,[29] that the details might be impressed in his memory.

The progress of the Utrecht arrangement is reported in the following letter to Mr. Temple, dated 20th July:—

“I have this night received a large packet from my father, with my letter of credit, and several letters of recommendation to different people in Holland. The letters have been sent open for me to seal, so I have been amused to see the different modes of treating that favourite subject myself. Sir David Dalrymple has written to Count Nassau; his letter is in French and is exceedingly genteel. He recommends Mr. Boswell as un jeune homme de famille et de mérite, and hopes he will find in the Count le guide et le protecteur de sa jeunesse. My father writes to Mynheer Abrahamus Gronovius, an old literatus at Leyden. It is an excellent letter, and recalls their old ideas with more liveliness than you would imagine. I have several other letters, so that I can be at no loss where I am going, especially as I have got some relations of the first fashion at the Hague. My father has allowed me £60 a quarter—£240 a year; that is not a great allowance, but with economy I may live very well upon it, for Holland is a cheap country. However, I am determined not to be straitened, nor to encourage the least narrowness of disposition as to saving money, but will draw upon my father for any sums I find necessary. My affairs being thus far settled, I must set out soon. I can have no excuse for indulging myself in a much longer stay in London; and yet I must own to you, my dear friend, that I feel a good deal of uneasiness at the thoughts of quitting the place where my affection is truly centred, for there I enjoy most happiness; however, I am determined to go next week. I hope I shall not be feeble-minded, but pluck up manly resolution, and consider that I am leaving London in order to see the world, store my mind with more ideas, establish a proper character, and then return to the metropolis much happier, and more qualified for a solid relish of its advantages.”

After the lapse of three days Boswell wrote to Mr. Temple as follows:—

“Inner Temple,

28th July, 1763.

My dear Temple,

I have now fixed to-morrow se’nnight, Friday, the 5th of August, for the day of my departure; and on Saturday, the 6th, I shall be upon the Channel. Alas, my friend! let me disclose my weakness to you. My departure fills me with a kind of gloom that quite overshadows my mind. I could almost weep to think of leaving dear London and the calm retirement of the Inner Temple. I am now launching into the wide world, and am to be long at a distance from my dear Temple, whose kind and amiable counsel never failed to soothe my dejected mind. You may see I am somewhat melancholy; pray comfort me. This is very effeminate and very young, but I cannot help it. My time is fixed, and I will go; I have taken my resolution, and you shall see that I can keep to it. I enclose you a friendly dissertation, which you may read at your leisure; it will show how much stronger my mind was last night only. I am just going to meet Mr. Johnson at the ‘Turk’s Head.’”

The meeting with Johnson in the “Turk’s Head” coffee-house is duly chronicled in the “Life.” Boswell expressed himself as resolved on proceeding to Utrecht, and asked for advice.

“Come,” said Johnson, “let us make a day of it; let us go down to Greenwich and dine, and talk of it fully, so that I shall say,—

‘On Thames’s bank in silent thought we stood,
Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood.’”[30]

The friends proceeded to Greenwich on Saturday, the 30th. They inspected the hospital, walked in the park, and returning to London by the river, closed the day’s excursion by supping together at the “Turk’s Head.” During the evening Boswell entertained his Mentor by expatiating on the history of his House, and the extent and importance of the family estate. By Johnson no allusion was made to the ostensible purpose of the meeting; it was enough that on a day of the week when Boswell was likely to meet with bad counsellors, he and his purse were protected from their embrace. The friends met on Sunday. On Tuesday they were both morning and evening together. On Wednesday evening they supped at the “Turk’s Head,” when Johnson renewed his promise to start with his friend for Harwich early on Friday morning.

As Boswell was for a considerable period to be left to his own control, Sir David Dalrymple sent him a letter of advice, along with some commissions to be executed in course of his tour. To Sir David’s letter Boswell on the 2nd August made the following answer:—

“My scepticism was not owing to thinking wrong, but to not thinking at all. It is a matter of great moment to keep a sense of religion constantly impressed upon our minds. If that divine guest does not occupy part of the space, vain intruders will; and when once they have got in it is difficult to get them out again. I shall remember your commission about the Greek Lyrics. I shall hear what the librarian says, and I shall make diligent search myself. As to the MSS. of Anacreon, Mr. Johnson says he doubts much if there be such a thing at Leyden.”

Of no settled convictions, Boswell was, under his protestations of orthodoxy, considerably tinged with Dempster’s scepticism. Sir David Dalrymple, who had formerly sought to rescue him from the Scylla of credulity, was now attempting his deliverance from the Charybdis of doubt. Boswell on the 3rd August communicated with Mr. Temple:—

“To-morrow morning, at five o’clock, I set out upon my travels. I am much hurried with putting all my things in order. I have left some parcels in one of the drawers, which I beg you will keep for me till I return. I have been a great deal with Mr. Johnson of late, and (would you believe it?) his friendship for me is so great that he insists on seeing me sail, and has actually taken a place in the coach to accompany me to Harwich.”

In the “Life of Johnson” the narrative is continued:—

“On Friday, August 5, we set out early in the morning in the Harwich stage-coach. A fat elderly gentlewoman and a young Dutchman seemed the most inclined among us to conversation. At the inn where we dined, the gentlewoman said that she had done her best to educate her children; and particularly that she had never suffered them to be a moment idle. Johnson: ‘I wish madam, you would educate me too; for I have been an idle fellow all my life.’ ‘I am sure, sir,’ said she, ‘you have not been idle.’ Johnson: ‘Nay, madam, it is very true; and that gentleman there,’ pointing to me, ‘has been idle. He was idle at Edinburgh. His father sent him to Glasgow, where he continued to be idle. He then came to London, where he has been very idle; and now he is going to Utrecht, where he will be as idle as ever.’ I asked him privately how he could expose me so. Johnson: ‘Pooh! pooh!’ said he; ‘they know nothing about you, and will think of it no more.’ ... Next day we got to Harwich to dinner; and my passage in the packet-boat to Helvoetsluys being secured, and my baggage put on board, we dined at an inn by ourselves.... We went and looked at the church, and having gone into it, and walked up to the altar, Johnson, whose piety was constant and fervent, sent me to my knees, saying, ‘Now that you are going to leave your native country, recommend yourself to the protection of your Creator and Redeemer.’ ... My revered friend walked down with me to the beach, where we embraced and parted with tenderness, and engaged to correspond by letters. I said, ‘I hope, sir, you will not forget me in my absence.’ Johnson: ‘Nay, sir, it is more likely that you should forget me than that I should forget you.’ 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; and at last I perceived him walk back into the town, and he disappeared.”

On the 8th December Dr. Johnson addressed to Boswell his first letter. He entreated him to study civil law as his father had advised, and the ancient languages, as he had personally resolved upon. He then proceeds to depict his friend’s weaknesses in these forcible terms:—

“You know a gentleman, who when first he set his foot in the gay world, as he prepared himself to whirl in the vortex of pleasure, imagined a total indifference and universal negligence to be the most agreeable concomitants of youth, and the strongest indication of an easy temper and a quick apprehension. Vacant to every object, and sensible of every impulse, he thought that an appearance of diligence would deduct something from the reputation of genius, and hoped that he should appear to attain, amidst all the ease of carelessness, and all the tumult of diversion, that knowledge and those accomplishments which mortals of the common fabric obtain only by mute abstraction and solitary drudgery. He tried this scheme of life awhile, was made weary of it by his sense and his virtue; he then wished to return to his studies, and finding long habits of idleness and pleasure harder to be cured than he expected, still wishing to retain his claim to some extraordinary prerogatives, resolved the common consequences of irregularity into an unalterable decree of destiny, and concluded that nature had originally formed him incapable of rational enjoyment. Let all such fancies, illusive and destructive, be banished henceforward from your thoughts for ever. Resolve and keep your resolution; choose, and pursue your choice. If you spend this day in study, you will find yourself still more able to study to-morrow; not that you are to expect that you shall at once obtain a complete victory.”

Johnson had commended his friend for keeping a journal.[31] He concludes his letter by expressing a hope that he is “enriching his journal with many observations upon the country” in which he was residing.

At Utrecht Boswell obtained the friendship of M. Trotz, the learned civilian, whose prelections on civil law he attended for some months. He also became intimate with the Rev. William Brown, pastor of the English congregation at Utrecht, subsequently Professor of Church History at St. Andrews. Anecdotes related by M. Trotz and Mr. Brown are preserved in Boswell’s Commonplace-book.

Lord Auchinleck had designed that his son should prosecute his studies at Utrecht for two years. The proposal was not a hopeful one, and it was not realized. Before his first term was completed, Boswell longed for the pleasures of travel: as the term closed he hastened into the country. He visited Leyden and other noted localities in the Netherlands, and passed into Germany. He reached Berlin in July, where he delivered a letter of introduction to Mr., afterwards Sir Andrew Mitchell, British Ambassador at the Prussian Court. By this accomplished gentleman he was well received and hospitably entertained. From Berlin he wrote a letter to his father, expatiating on the advantages of travel, and entreating that such a remittance might be sent him as would carry him into Switzerland, and from thence into Italy. Pending his father’s answer, he visited the duchies of Hanover and Brunswick. Returning to Berlin on the 27th of August he found a letter from his father, strongly disapproving his proposal for a lengthened tour, and allowing him only the indulgence of visiting France before resuming his legal studies at Utrecht. Mortified by his father’s decision, and the severely peremptory character of his letter, he thought of waiting on Mr. Mitchell to entreat his aid and intervention. The ambassador was from home; he had gone with his family to Spa, where he was still to remain some weeks. Procuring his address, Boswell sent him a lengthened communication, which owing to its peculiar manner we present without abridgment:—

“You may believe, sir, that I was a good deal surprised to hear, upon my return to Berlin, that onze Gezant[32] was gone. There was indeed a surmise at Brunswick that you intended to return to England this season. I was asked if it was true, and very innocently affirmed that there was nothing in it. I find however, that when a man leaves a Minister at a foreign Court but for a fortnight, he is not sure of finding him upon his return. Your departure is a good deal unlucky for me, not only as it deprives me of conversation which gave me uncommon pleasure, and invariably accustomed me to rational thinking and honourable sentiment, but because I now particularly stand in need of your prudent and kind counsel with respect to my travels. I have had another letter from my father, in which he continues of opinion that travelling is of very little use, and may do a great deal of harm. I shall not repeat what I have formerly said of my father’s particular character; I say particular, for rarely will you find a man of so excellent a frame of body, and so noble a mind as to have passed through life with uniform propriety of conduct.[33] For my own part, I own that I am not such a favourite of nature. Think not that I intend to plead machinery, and escape from the censure due to the faults which I have committed. I only would have you consider that judgment is a natural gift as well as imagination, and force of mind is in a great measure independent of our endeavours: think of me as I am, and pronounce accordingly.

“I esteem and love my father, and I am determined to do what is in my power to make him easy and happy; but you will allow that I may endeavour to make him happy and at the same time not be too hard upon myself. I must use you so much with the freedom of a friend as to tell you that, with the vivacity which you allowed me, I have a melancholy disposition. To escape from the gloom of dark speculation, I have made excursions into the fields of amusement, perhaps of folly. I have found that amusement and folly are beneath me, and that without some laudable pursuit my life must be insipid and wearisome. I therefore took the resolution of leaving London, and settled myself for the winter at Utrecht, where I recovered my inclination for study and rational thinking. I then laid my account with travelling for a couple of years, but I found my father’s views to be entirely different. You saw the letter which I wrote him from this, and I flatter myself that you approved of it. I cannot expect his answer for some weeks; in the meantime he tells me that he would not oppose my passing another winter at Utrecht, so that he does not grudge the time which I ask. As for the money, I should think for one year a little extraordinary expense is not thrown away, when it is also to be considered that what I spend now I shall not have some years hence. My father seems much against my going to Italy, but gives me leave to go from there and pass some months in Paris. I own that the words of the apostle Paul, “I must see Rome,” are strongly borne in upon my mind; it would give me infinite pleasure; it would give me talk for a lifetime, and I should go home to Auchinleck with serene contentment. I am no libertine, and have a moral certainty of suffering no harm in Italy; I can also assure you that I shall be as moderate as possible in my expenses. I do not intend to travel as Mi Lord Anglois, but merely as a scholar and a man of elegant curiosity, and I am told that in that character I may live in Italy very reasonably. I obviate your objection of my being obliged to live like others, by assuring you that I have none of that second-rate ambition which actuates most young men of fortune upon their travels. After passing four months on classic ground, I would come through France, and go home, as I said to my father, uti conviva satur.

“Now, sir, tell me fairly if I am unreasonable. Upon my honour I cannot think that I am. I give you my word that my father’s inclinations shall be as inviolable laws to his son; but don’t you think that I may just remonstrate before I consider an act as passed? Don’t you think that, rather than go home contrary to what I much desire, and cannot help thinking very proper,—don’t you think it worth while to humour me so far as to allow me my year and a reasonable sum, after which I return clear and contented, without any pretence for my stormy disposition to murmur at? I would beg, sir, that you may write to my father your opinion as to this matter, and put it in the light that you think it deserves. In the meantime I can see little advantage to be had at Berlin. I shall, however, remain here a fortnight, after which I intend passing by Mannheim, and one or two more of the German Courts, to Geneva; I am then at the point from which I may either steer to Italy or to France. I shall see Voltaire. I shall also see Switzerland and Rousseau; these two men are to me greater objects than most statues or pictures. I take this opportunity to assure the loved and respected friend of my father that I am serenely happy at having obtained his acquaintance. I would hope that I shall not be found unworthy of his regard, and I wish very honestly for an opportunity of showing my real esteem for such a character as I could draw to any one else but to himself.”[34]

In a postscript Boswell begged an early reply. His letter, somewhat Johnsonian in style, actually reflected some of Dr. Johnson’s sentiments respecting himself, in the letter received at Utrecht. It was sufficiently candid to induce friendship, and not more ambitious than the ardour of youth might have excused or justified. But Mr. Mitchell had no desire to arbitrate between father and son in a matter with which he was personally unconcerned. He contented himself with administering to the young traveller a lecture on filial obedience, and declined all further negotiation. Lord Auchinleck meanwhile relented without further pressure, assented to the Italian project, and sent the necessary funds. To the Ambassador Boswell addressed a letter from Geneva on the 26th December; it commenced in a style sufficiently exultant:—

“I thank you for your letter from Spa, although it gave me no great encouragement in my scheme of going to Italy. You tell me gravely to follow the plan which my father prescribed, whatever it may be, and in doing so I shall certainly act most wisely. I forgive you this, for I say just the same to young people when I advise. To enter into detail of the little circumstances which compose the felicity of another, is what a man of any genius can hardly submit to. We therefore give a good, wholesome, general counsel; and he who consults us thinks a little, and then endeavours to take his own way as well as he can. I have, however, the happiness to inform you that my father has consented that I shall go to Italy. Upon my soul, I am grateful to the most worthy of men: it will be hard if we are not well together, for I love him with the strongest affection. If I find that I cannot succeed in my own plans in such a way as to convince my father that I am in the right, I shall do my utmost to fulfil the plan beyond which he cannot think to look. You may suppose what my ideas are, for they are of your old acquaintances. One thing I am sure of, and by the undisguised honour of a man of probity I swear, shall chiefly influence me—a regard to the happiness of him to whom I owe so much, Believe me I have a soul.”

Had Boswell concluded his letter at this point he might have merited some praise for snubbing the ambassador who had lectured him on filial duty. But he goes on to entreat Mr. Mitchell’s influence on behalf of the father and brother of his friend Mr. Temple. The father he describes as formerly an officer in the Customs, who had forfeited his appointment by becoming insolvent. The son, Master Robert, is now a lieutenant on half-pay. Through Mr. Mitchell he desires a Government post for the one, and full pay for the other. He assures the ambassador that excepting his Sovereign he is “the only man in Britain” he would ask a favour of. “If you can aid me,” he adds, “you will most truly oblige a worthy fellow, for such I am.” To this second communication the ambassador vouchsafed no answer.

Through a part of Germany Boswell was accompanied by the Earl Marischal, who ordinarily resided at Berlin, and who had, during a recent visit to Scotland, formed the acquaintance of Lord Auchinleck. With introductions from his lordship he visited Voltaire at Ferney, and Rousseau in the wilds of Neufchatel. It is to be regretted that he did not record his conversations with these celebrated persons. Crossing the Alps, he visited the principal towns of Italy. He spent some time in Italy with Lord Mountstuart, eldest son of the Earl of Bute. To this nobleman he dedicated his thesis when he was called to the Bar.

The inhabitants of Corsica were at this time engaged against the Genoese in their memorable struggle for liberty, and Pascal Paoli, their patriotic leader, had become celebrated over Europe. To Boswell he had been warmly commended by Rousseau, who had corresponded with the Corsicans respecting the formation of their laws. Boswell hinted to Rousseau that he might proceed to Corsica, and when in April, 1765, he reached Rome, he addressed a letter to the philosopher, begging an introduction to Paoli. Not receiving a reply, he wrote to Rousseau a second time, informing him that should he withhold the introduction sought for “he should certainly go without it, and probably be hanged as a spy.”[35] On his arrival at Florence, in August, he received a letter from “the wild philosopher,” recommending him first to Mr. Buttafoco, Captain of the Royal Italian Regiment at Viscovado, and in his absence to General Paoli. At Leghorn he procured from Count Rivarola, the Sardinian Consul, a special letter to Paoli and other leading persons at Corsica.

Arriving in the island, Boswell was courteously received by Signor Antonetti, to whom he presented a letter from Count Rivarola. After entertaining him at his house, Antonetti facilitated his progress to the town of Sollacarò, the headquarters of Paoli. On his route Boswell heard that in the castle of Corte were detained three murderers, a woman and two men; he gratified his curiosity by conversing with them. At his request the executioner was also presented to him.

Reaching Sollacarò, Boswell was brought into the presence of Paoli, to whom he handed his credentials. Paoli received him with reserve, but afterwards became friendly. To the general he described himself in these terms:—“With a mind naturally inclined to melancholy, and a keen desire of inquiry, I have intensely applied myself to metaphysical researches, and reasoned beyond my depth on such subjects as it is not given to man to know. I have rendered my mind a comera (sic) obscura; in the very heat of youth I felt the non est tanti, the omnia vanitas of one who has exhausted all the sweets of his being, and is weary with dull repetition. I told him that I had almost become for ever incapable of taking a part in active life.”[36]

Paoli introduced Boswell to his nobility, who severally honoured him with visits. He was one day mounted on Paoli’s horse, with its rich garniture of crimson velvet and gold lace. In journeying he was attended by the general’s guards, an honour from which he “enjoyed a sort of luxury of noble sentiment.” From Paoli’s palace at Corte, the capital of Corsica, he addressed a letter to Dr. Johnson, which he describes as “full of generous enthusiasm.” Having related what he had done and seen, he summed up; “I dare to call this a spirited tour; I dare to challenge your approbation.”[37]

From Corsica Boswell communicated to Rousseau, now in France, the details of his visit to Paoli, and on his reaching Paris received the philosopher’s commands to bring with him into England, whither he had preceded him, the notorious companion of his household, Therése La Vasseur. Boswell accepted the mission, and accompanied Rousseau’s mistress from Paris to London. In reference to his intended progress, Mr. Hume, at whose instance Rousseau proceeded to England, thus communicated with his ingenious correspondent, the Countess de Bouflers:—

“12th of January, 1766.

“A letter has come open to me from Guy, the bookseller, by which I learn that Mademoiselle[38] sets out first in company with a friend of mine, a young gentleman very good-humoured, very agreeable, and very mad. He visited Rousseau in his mountains, who gave him a recommendation to Paoli, the King of Corsica; where this gentleman, whose name is Boswell, went last summer in search of adventures. He has such a rage for literature, that I dread some event fatal to our friend’s honour. For remember the story of Terentia, who was first married to Cicero, then to Sallust, and at last, in her old age, married a young nobleman, who imagined that she must possess some secret which would convey to him eloquence and genius.”

At Paris, in the house of Mr. Waters, an English banker, Boswell found a letter from Dr. Johnson, dated the 14th January. It proceeded thus:—

“Be assured for the present, that nothing has lessened either the esteem or love with which I dismissed you at Harwich. Both have been increased by all that I have been told of you by yourself or others, and when you return, you will return to an unaltered and, I hope, unalterable friend.

“All that you have to fear from me is the vexation of disappointing me. No man loves to frustrate expectations which have been formed in his favour; and the pleasure which I promise myself from your journals and remarks is so great, that perhaps no degree of attention or discernment will be sufficient to afford it.

“Come home, however, and take your chance. I long to see you and to hear you, and hope that we shall not be so long separated again. Come home, and expect such welcome as is due to him whom a wise and noble curiosity has led where perhaps, no native of this country ever was before.

******

“As your father’s liberality has indulged you with so long a ramble, I doubt not but that you will think his sickness, or even his desire to see you, a sufficient reason for hastening your return. The longer we live, and the more we think, the higher value we learn to put on the friendship and tenderness of parents and friends. Parents we can have but once; and he promises himself too much who enters life with the expectation of finding many friends. Upon some motive I hope that you will be here soon, and am willing to think that it will be an inducement to your return that it is sincerely desired by, dear sir, your affectionate humble servant,

“Sam Johnson.”

Boswell reached London in the beginning of February, and at once visited Dr. Johnson at his house in Johnson’s Court. Received with much cordiality, he proceeded to entertain the lexicographer with Voltaire’s opinions of some of the English poets. In the evening the friends supped together at the Mitre Tavern, when Boswell learnt, for the first time, that Johnson had become practically an abstainer. On Saturday, the 15th February, Boswell and Johnson again met at the “Mitre,” the former being accompanied by his friend Mr. Temple. Boswell spoke of Rousseau, and said he had met with Mr. Wilkes in Italy, and had enjoyed his society. Johnson denounced both the philosopher and the politician in his severest manner.

In the course of their conversation General Paoli had remarked to Boswell that he might inform the members of his court that the Corsicans were worthy of greater support than they had hitherto received. Boswell construed the remark into a request, and, before he left the island, commissioned a Corsican dress in which he might, to members of the English Cabinet, plead the cause of Paoli. In this costume he waited on several members of Government, and some noted politicians. From Mr. Walpole he experienced a courteous reception. Mr. Pitt wrote him a short letter, which, in the hope of producing a correspondence between him and the minister, he acknowledged as follows:—

“St. James’ Street, Feb. 19, 1766.

“Sir,—I have the honour to receive your most obliging letter, and can with difficulty restrain myself from paying you compliments on the very genteel manner in which you are pleased to treat me. But I come from a people among whom even the lowest arts of insinuation are unknown. However you may, by political circumstances, be in one view a simple individual, yet, sir, Mr. Pitt will always be the prime minister of the brave, the secretary of freedom and of spirit; and I hope that I may with propriety talk to him of the views of the illustrious Paoli. Be that as it may, I shall very much value the honour of being admitted to your acquaintance.

“I am, &c.,

James Boswell.”[39]

Informed of his mother’s death, Boswell left London for Auchinleck. His father was pleased to find him somewhat less volatile, and quite reconciled to the legal profession. On the 26th July he was admitted advocate. His “Thesis on Civil Law,” published at his admission, he transmitted to Dr. Johnson, who criticised it with severity; he, however, heartily commended his resolution to obey his father, and seriously to occupy himself with business. His proposal to write a history of Corsica Dr. Johnson objected to. “You have,” he wrote, “no materials which others have not, or may have. You have, somehow or other, warmed your imagination. I wish there were some cure, like the lover’s leap, for all heads of which some single idea has obtained an unreasonable and irregular possession. Mind your own affairs, and leave the Corsicans to theirs.”

Aware of Boswell’s tendency to form resolutions, which he afterwards departed from, Dr. Johnson entreated him to abandon his practice of vow-making. To a letter from the lexicographer on this subject Boswell made the following answer:—

“Auchinleck, 6th November, 1766.

“Might I venture to differ from you with regard to the utility of vows? I am sensible that it may be very dangerous to make vows rashly, and without a due consideration. But I cannot help thinking that they may often be of great advantage to one of a variable judgment and irregular inclinations. I always remember a passage in one of your letters to our Italian friend, Baretti; where, talking of the monastic life, you say you do not wonder that serious men should put themselves under the protection of a religious order, when they have found how unable they are to take care of themselves. For my own part, without affecting to be a Socrates, I am sure I have a more than ordinary struggle to maintain with the Evil Principle; and all the methods I can devise are little enough to keep me tolerably steady in the paths of rectitude.”

In February, 1767, Boswell conveyed his congratulations to Mr. Temple on his being admitted to priest’s orders, and instituted Rector of Mamhead. The following remarks with which his congratulations were accompanied would have reflected credit on Dr. Johnson:—

“I am sincerely happy that you are at length the Reverend Mr. Temple. I view the profession of a clergyman in an amiable and respectable light. Don’t be moved by declamations against ecclesiastical history, as if that could blacken the sacred order. I confess that it is not in ecclesiastical history that we find the most agreeable account of divines: their politics, their ambition, and their cruelty are there displayed; but remember, Temple, you are there reading the vices of only political divines,—of such individuals as in so numerous a body have been very unworthy members of the Church, and should have rather been employed in the rudest secular concerns. But if you would judge fairly of the priests of Jesus, you must consider how many of the distressed they have comforted, how many of the wicked they have reclaimed, how many of the good they have improved; consider the lives of thousands of worthy pious divines who have been a blessing to their parishes. This is just, Temple. You say the truths of morality are written in the hearts of all men, and they find it their interest to practise them. My dear friend, will you believe a specious moral essayist against your own experience? Don’t you in the very same letter complain of the wickedness of those around you? Don’t you talk of the tares in society? My friend, it is your office to labour cheerfully in the vineyard, and, if possible, to leave not a tare in Mamhead.

*****

“In a word, my dear Temple, be a good clergyman, and you will be happy both here and hereafter.”

Boswell proceeds to advise his friend to marry a suitable wife, and expresses a regret that he himself cannot wed so long as his father lives. Having administered these virtuous counsels, he intimates that he has involved himself in an illicit amour—or, as he expresses it, that he is attached to “a dear infidel.” The person so described was a married woman, who had separated from her husband. Boswell had met her in the autumn of 1765 at Moffat Spa, where he had been sojourning with his friend Mr. Johnston, of Grange, a Dumfriesshire landowner. He had brought her to Edinburgh, and she was now maintained at his expense. In mitigation of his conduct in associating with her, he thus expatiates to Mr. Temple:—

“Don’t think her unfaithful; I could not love her if she was. There is baseness in all deceit which my soul is virtuous enough to abhor, and therefore I look with horror on adultery. But my amiable mistress is no longer bound to him who was her husband: he has used her shockingly ill; he has deserted her; he lives with another. Is she not then free? She is, it is clear, and no arguments can disguise it. She is now mine; and were she to be unfaithful to me, she ought to be pierced with a Corsican poniard; but I believe she loves me sincerely. She has done everything to please me: she is perfectly generous, and would not hear of any present.”

The first part of Boswell’s letter embracing these incongruous details is dated “1st February,” and occupies seven folio pages. With temporary discretion the writer hesitated to send off so strange a communication; at length, on the 28th of the month, he resumed his narrative, which after another interval was concluded on the 4th March, and thereupon despatched. Respecting his unhappy amour he writes:—

“I have talked a great deal of my sweet little mistress; I am, however, uneasy about her. Furnishing a house and maintaining her with a maid will cost me a great deal of money, and it is too like marriage, or too much a settled plan of licentiousness; but what can I do? I have already taken the house, and the lady has agreed to go in at Whitsuntide; I cannot in honour draw back.... Now am I tormented because my charmer has formerly loved others. Besides, she is ill-bred, quite a rompish girl. She debases my dignity; she has no refinement, but she is very handsome and very lively. What is it to me that she has formerly loved? so have I. I am positive that since I first courted her at Moffat she has been constant to me; she is kind, she is generous. What shall I do? I wish I could get off; and yet how awkward would it be!... What is to be thought of this life, my friend? Hear the story of my last three days. After tormenting myself with reflecting on my charmer’s former loves, and ruminating on parting with her, I went to her. I could not conceal my being distressed. I told her I was very unhappy, but I would not tell her why. She took this very seriously, and was so much affected that she went next morning and gave up her house. I went in the afternoon and secured the house, and then drank tea with her. She was much agitated; she said she was determined to go and board herself in the north of England, and that I used her very ill. I expostulated with her; I was sometimes inclined to let her go, and sometimes my heart was like to burst within me. I held her dear hand; her eyes were full of passion; I told her what made me miserable; she was pleased to find it was nothing worse. She had imagined I was suspicious of her fidelity, and she thought that very ungenerous in reconsidering her behaviour. She said I should not mind her faults before I knew her, since her conduct was now more circumspect. She owned that she loved me more than she had ever done her husband. All was well again.”

Boswell went out, and the same evening got drunk, and committed gross follies. On the 30th March he wrote to Mr. Temple from Auchinleck. He informed him that as his Circe had gone to Moffat, he has “had time to think coolly,” and to call up “that reason which he had so often contradicted.” He proceeds:—

“Johnston, an old friend of mine, a writer in Edinburgh, but too much of an indolent philosopher to have great business, being rather a worthy country gentleman, with a paternal estate of £100 a year, was much distressed with my unhappy passion. He was at Moffat when it first began, and he marked the advance of the fever. It was he who assured me, upon his honour, that my fair one had a very bad character, and gave me some instances which made my lovesick heart recoil. He had some influence with me, but my brother David had more. To him I discovered my weakness, my slavery, and begged his advice. He gave it me like a man. I gloried in him. I roused all my spirit, and at last I was myself again. I immediately wrote her a letter, of which I enclose the scroll for your perusal. She and I have always corresponded in such a manner that no mischief could come of it, for we supposed a Miss——, to whom all my amorous vows were paid.... I have not yet got her answer: what will it be, think you? I shall judge of her character from it. I shall see if she is abandoned or virtuous; I mean both in a degree; I shall at any rate be free. What a snare have I escaped! Do you remember Ulysses and Circe?—

‘Sub domina meretrice vixisset turpis et excors.’

“My life is one of the most romantic that I believe either you or I really know of, and yet I am a very sensible, good sort of man. What is the meaning of this, Temple? You may depend upon it that very soon my follies will be at an end, and I shall turn out an admirable member of society. Now that I have given my mind the turn, I am totally emancipated from my charmer, as much as from the gardener’s daughter who now puts on my fire and performs menial offices like any other wench, and yet just this time twelvemonth I was so madly in love as to think of marrying her. Should not this be an everlasting lesson to me?... How strangely do we colour over our vices! I startle when you talk of keeping another man’s wife, yet that was literally my scheme, though imagination represented it just as being fond of a pretty, lovely, black little lady, who to oblige me stayed in Edinburgh, and I very genteelly paid her expenses.”

From several letters to Mr. Temple at subsequent dates, it appears that Boswell’s discreditable amour was protracted for some time longer. In the same letter he invited his friend’s counsel respecting certain matrimonial projects on which he had embarked.

Amidst his dissipations and follies Boswell was not altogether idle. To Mr. Temple he reported, in March, that he had at the Bar earned sixty-five guineas during the winter, and that his employment was steadily on the increase. He stated that Mr. Hume augured favourably of his work on Corsica; that Rousseau had quarrelled with him as he had done with Hume; that Dr. Gregory had sought his acquaintance, and that he had received a long letter from General Paoli, and one of three pages from Lord Chatham.

To Lord Chatham Boswell replied in characteristic fashion:—

“Auchinleck, April 8th, 1767.

“I have communicated to General Paoli the contents of your lordship’s letter, and I am persuaded he will think as I do.... Your lordship applauds my ‘generous warmth for so striking a character as the able chief.’ Indeed, my lord, I have the happiness of being able to contemplate with supreme delight those distinguished spirits by which God is sometimes pleased to honour humanity, and as I have no personal favour to ask of your lordship, I will tell you, with the confidence of one who does not fear to be thought a flatterer, that your character, my lord, has filled many of my best hours with that noble admiration which a disinterested soul can enjoy in the bower of philosophy.”

After informing his correspondent that he is about to publish an account of Corsica, he proceeds:—

“As for myself, to please a worthy and respected father, one of our Scots judges, I studied law, and am now fairly entered to the bar. I begin to like it; I can labour hard, I feel myself coming forward, and I hope to be useful to my country. Could your lordship find time to honour me now and then with a letter?

“I have been told how favourably your lordship has spoken of me. To correspond with a Paoli and with a Chatham is enough to keep a young man ever ardent in the pursuit of virtuous fame.”

The cool egotism which prompted Boswell, an undistinguished youth, to beg an occasional letter from an illustrious and veteran statesman is without a parallel in biography. At Edinburgh, notwithstanding his obvious eccentricity, he enjoyed a kind of literary status. As a patron of histrionic art he led a considerable section of the Edinburgh youth; and we have already related, that at the request of Ross, the player, he composed the prologue spoken at the opening of the Edinburgh theatre in December, 1767. By an act of indiscretion he nearly crushed the institution he had helped to rear. He brought on the Edinburgh stage a comedy entitled “The Coquettes,” to oblige Lady Houston, by whom it was composed. On the third performance it was condemned as a bad translation of one of Corneille’s worst plays. Lady Houston was sister of Lord Cathcart, one of Boswell’s friends, and creditably enough he was content to bear the censure of producing the piece rather than expose the foolish gentlewoman who had placed it in his hands.

In his letter to Mr. Temple of the 30th March, 1767, he reports concerning his forthcoming venture—“I am now seriously engaged in my account of Corsica; it elevates my soul, and makes me spernere humum. I shall have it finished by June.” Through Mr. Hume he endeavoured to secure Mr. Andrew Millar as publisher; but negotiations being unsatisfactory, he sold his MS. for 100 guineas to Messrs. Edward and Charles Dilly, booksellers in the Poultry. In an ordinary octavo the work appeared in the spring of 1768, with the title, “An Account of Corsica: the Journal of a Tour to that Island, and Memoirs of Pascal Paoli, by James Boswell, Esq.” It was dedicated, in flattering terms, to Paoli; but the peculiarities of the writer were more apparent in his preface. He there indicates his peculiar system of orthography. “Of late,” he writes, “it has become the fashion to render our language more neat and trim by leaving out k after c, and u in the last syllable of words which used to end in our. The illustrious Mr. Samuel Johnson, who has alone executed in England what was the task of whole academies in other countries, has been careful in his dictionary to preserve the k as a mark of Saxon original. He has for most part, too, been careful to preserve the u, but he has also omitted it in several words. I have retained the k, and have taken upon me to follow a general rule with regard to words ending in our. Wherever a word originally Latin has been transmitted to us through the medium of the French I have written it with the characteristical u. Our attention to this may appear trivial, but I own I am one of those who are curious in the formation of language in its various modes; and therefore, with that, the affinity of English with other tongues may not be forgotten. If this work should at any future period be reprinted, I hope that care will be taken of my orthography.”

Pursuant to his system, Boswell indulged the satisfaction of writing authour for author, and tremenduous for a word known only as tremendous. He closed his preface by intimating his literary aspirations:—

“I should,” he writes, “be proud to be known as an authour, and I have an ardent ambition for literary fame; for of all possessions I should imagine literary fame to be the most valuable. A man who has been able to furnish a book which has been approved by the world has established himself as a respectable character in distant society, without any danger of having that character lessened by the observation of his weaknesses. To preserve an uniform dignity among those who see us every day is hardly possible, and to aim at it must put us under the fetters of a perpetual restraint. The authour of an approved book may allow his natural disposition an easy play, and yet indulge the pride of superior genius when he considers that by those who know him only as an authour he never ceases to be respected. Such an authour, when in his hours of gloom and discontent, may have the consolation to think that his writings are at that very time giving pleasure to numbers, and such an authour may cherish the hope of being remembered after death, which has been a great object to the noblest minds in all ages. Whether I may merit any portion of literary fame the public will judge. Whatever my ambition may be, I trust that my confidence is not too great, nor my hopes too sanguine.”

Though subjected to some ridicule, owing to the extreme egotism of the writer, the Corsican Journey was well received. A second edition was called for within a few months. Boswell proceeded to London to enjoy an anticipated ovation. When he arrived Dr. Johnson was on a visit at Oxford, but Boswell by letter solicited his commendation. Contrary to his hopes he received this laconic answer—“I wish you would empty your head of Corsica, which I think has filled it rather too long.” From Dr. Johnson such a reproof was intolerable. Boswell at once despatched the following reply:—

“How can you bid me empty my head of Corsica? My noble-minded friend, do you not feel for an oppressed nation bravely struggling to be free? Consider fairly what is the case. The Corsicans never received any kindness from the Genoese. They never agreed to be subject to them. They owe them nothing, and when reduced to an abject state of slavery by force, shall they not rise in the great cause of liberty, and break the galling yoke? And shall not every liberal soul be warm for them? Empty my head of Corsica! Empty it of honour, empty it of humanity, empty it of friendship, empty it of piety. No! while I live, Corsica and the cause of the brave islanders shall ever employ much of my attention, shall ever interest me in the sincerest manner.”

Though Dr. Johnson imparted no praise, Boswell, on account of his book, met with considerable attention. To Mr. Temple he wrote on the 14th May,—

“I am really the great man now. I have had David Hume in the forenoon, and Mr. Johnson in the afternoon of the same day visiting me. Sir John Pringle, Dr. Franklin, and some more company, dined with me to-day; and Mr. Johnson and General Oglethorpe one day, Mr. Garrick alone another, and David Hume and some more literati, dine with me next week. I give admirable dinners and good claret; and the moment I go abroad again, which will be in a day or two, I set up my chariot. This is enjoying the fruit of my labours, and appearing like the friend of Paoli. By-the-bye, the Earl of Pembroke and Captain Meadows are just setting out for Corsica, and I have the honour of introducing them by letter to the General. David Hume came on purpose the other day to tell me that the Duke of Bedford was very fond of my book, and had recommended it to the Duchess.”

In the beginning of 1769 Boswell issued under the publishing auspices of Messrs. Dilly, a duodecimo volume entitled “British Essays in favour of the brave Corsicans”—a work which was followed by the third edition of his work on Corsica. In a preface to this edition, dated at Auchinleck, 29th October, 1768, he thus disposes of his critics:—“To those who have imagined themselves very witty in sneering at me for being a Christian, I would recommend the serious study of theology; and I hope they will attain to the same comfort that I have in the belief of a revelation by which a Saviour is proclaimed to the world, and ‘life and immortality are clearly brought to light.’” He closes by congratulating himself on having obtained literary reputation.

“May I be permitted to say,” he writes, “that the success of this book has exceeded my warmest hopes. When I first ventured to send it into the world I fairly owned an ardent desire for literary fame. I have obtained my desire; and whatever clouds may overcast my days, I can now walk here among the rocks and woods of my ancestors with an agreeable consciousness that I have done something worthy.”

Complacently as he had expressed himself, Boswell was ill at ease, for though his book sold, and was generally approved, Dr. Johnson remained silent. After enduring the affront for eighteen months, he at length, in September, 1769, addressed a letter to the lexicographer, charging him with unkindness. In these terms Dr. Johnson rebutted the accusation:—

“Why do you charge me with unkindness? I have omitted nothing that could do you good or give you pleasure, unless it be that I have forborne to tell you my opinion of your ‘Account of Corsica.’ I believe my opinion, if you think well of my judgment, might have given you pleasure; but when it is considered how much vanity is excited by praise, I am not sure that it would have done you good. Your history is like other histories, but your journal is in a very high degree curious and delightful. There is between the history and the journal that difference which there will always be found between notions borrowed from without and notions generated within. Your history was copied from books; your journal rose out of your own experience and observation. You express images which operated strongly upon yourself, and you have impressed them with great force upon your readers. I know not whether I could name any narrative by which curiosity is better excited or better gratified.”

These words from Dr. Johnson made Boswell happy. The Doctor’s opinion as to the interest of the work mainly depending on the narrative of the writer’s own experiences was shared generally. Respecting Boswell and his performance, Mr. Walpole, in a letter to the poet Gray, dated 18th February, 1768, thus expresses himself:—“Pray read the new account of Corsica; what relates to Paoli will amuse you much. There is a deal about the island and its dimensions that one does not care a straw for. The author, Boswell, is a strange being, and, like Cambridge,[40] has a rage for knowing anybody that was ever talked of. He forced himself upon me in spite of my teeth and my doors, and I see has given a foolish account of all he could pick up from me about King Theodore. He then took an antipathy to me on Rousseau’s account, abused me in the newspapers, and expected Rousseau to do so too; but as he came to see me no more, I forgave all the rest. I see he is now a little sick of Rousseau himself, but I hope it will not cure him of his anger to me; however, his book will amuse you.”

This is caustic enough. Gray’s reply is equally in praise of Boswell’s Journal and condemnatory of its author:—[41]

“Pembroke College, February 25, 1768.

“Mr. Boswell’s book I was going to recommend to you when I received your letter. It has pleased and moved me strangely—all (I mean) that relates to Paoli.... The pamphlet proves what I have always maintained, that any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and said with veracity. Of Mr. Boswell’s truth I have not the least suspicion, because I am sure he could invent nothing of the kind. The title of this part of his work is a dialogue between a Green Goose and a Hero.”[42]

Inflated with his success as an author, and his supposed popularity as the friend of the Corsicans and of Paoli, Boswell, on his return to Edinburgh in the summer of 1768, began to eschew his legal duties and spend his evenings at the gambling-table. To this practice he had been formerly addicted, but he had temporarily renounced it, on the counsel of Mr. Sheridan. In August, 1768, he reported to Mr. Temple that “he found the fever still lurking in his veins,” and so indulged his propensity. During the previous autumn he had experienced his father’s resentment for his encouragement of theatricals and constant talk about Paoli. In reference to his father’s displeasure he thus communicated with Mr. Temple in September, 1767:—

“How unaccountable is it that my father and I should be so ill together! He is a man of sense and a man of worth; but from some unhappy turn in his disposition he is much dissatisfied with a son whom you know. I write to him with warmth, with an honest pride, wishing that he should think of me as I am; but my letters shock him, and every expression in them is interpreted unfavourably. To give you an instance, I send you a letter I had from him a few days ago. How galling is it to the friend of Paoli to be treated so! I have answered him in my own style. I will be myself.... Temple, would you not like such a son? would you not feel a glow of parental joy? I know you would; and yet my worthy father writes to me in the manner you see, with that Scots strength of sarcasm which is peculiar to a North Briton. But he is offended with that fire which you and I cherish as the essence of our souls; and how can I make him happy? Am I bound to do so at the expense, not of this or the other agreeable wish, but at the expense of myself? The time was when such a letter from my father as the one I enclose would have depressed; but I am now firm, and as my revered friend Mr. Samuel Johnson used to say, I feel the privileges of an independent human being. However, it is hard that I cannot have the pious satisfaction of being well with my father.”

To lose the paternal favour was perilous; so Boswell’s next literary performance was of a professional character. When he commenced practice as an advocate, society in Edinburgh and in the country generally was much agitated in connection with the Douglas case. The question at issue was whether Mr. Archibald Douglas was the real heir to the estates of Douglas, the succession otherwise devolving on the Duke of Hamilton. The Lady Jane Douglas was twice married. By her first union, which subsisted for many years she had no children; she married secondly Mr. Stewart, afterwards Sir John Stewart, Bart., of Grandtully, an aged gentleman in feeble health, and by this marriage, as was alleged, gave birth to twin sons in her fifty-first year. Lady Jane long resided in France; her alleged accouchement took place in the house of a Madame le Brun, in Paris, and it was asserted that the children which she claimed as her sons were purchased from a Parisian rope-dancer. The younger of the two boys died in childhood, and on the death of the Duke of Douglas his Grace’s estates were claimed by Archibald, the elder son. The validity of his claim was disputed, and the evidence adduced on both sides occupies several quarto volumes. In the Court of Session the claimant’s birth was pronounced supposititious, on the casting vote of the Lord President Dundas. On appeal that decision was reversed by the House of Lords, Lord Camden, the Chancellor, alleging that “a more ample and positive proof of the child’s being the son of a mother never appeared in a court of justice.”

While the Douglas case was exciting its utmost interest, Boswell became a keen supporter of the claimant, Mr. Archibald Douglas; and in November, 1767, produced a pamphlet entitled “The Essence of the Douglas Cause.” This brochure was issued in reply to a small publication entitled “Considerations on the Douglas Cause,” but failed to excite any general attention. The author, however, cherished the belief that he had been of essential service to Mr. Douglas, and accordingly requested that his name might be added to the list of counsel retained on his behalf.

Boswell, we have seen, had begun to think of matrimony. In that direction his thoughts were sufficiently persistent, though in respect to the object of affection singularly variable. On the 30th March, 1767, he thus addressed Mr. Temple:—

“What say you to my marrying? I intend, next autumn, to visit Miss Bosville in Yorkshire; but I fear, my lot being cast in Scotland, that beauty would not be content. She is, however, grave; I shall see. There is a young lady in the neighbourhood here who has an estate of her own between two and three hundred a year, just eighteen, a genteel person, an agreeable face, of a good family, sensible, good-tempered, cheerful, pious. You know my grand object is the ancient family of Auchinleck—a venerable and noble principle. How would it do to conclude an alliance with the neighbouring princess, and add her lands to our dominions? I should at once have a very pretty little estate, a good house, and a sweet place. My father is very fond of her: it would make him perfectly happy: he gives me hints in this way:—‘I wish you had her,’—‘No bad scheme this; I think it a very good one.’ But I will not be in a hurry; there is plenty of time.”

Writing to Mr. Temple on the 12th June, Boswell omits all reference to Miss Bosville, but extols “the young lady in his neighbourhood” as a kind of goddess.

“The lady in my neighbourhood,” he writes, “is the finest woman I have ever seen. I went and visited her, and she was so good as to prevail with her mother to come to Auchinleck, where they stayed four days, and in our romantic groves I adored her like a divinity. I have already given you her character. My father is very desirous I should marry her; all my relations, all my neighbours, approve of it. She looked quite at home in the house of Auchinleck. Her picture would be an ornament to the gallery. Her children would be all Boswells and Temples, and as fine women as these are excellent men. And now my friend, my best adviser, comes to hear me talk of her and to fix my wavering mind.”

In his next letter to Mr. Temple, Boswell reveals that his “angelic princess” is “Miss Blair, of Adamtown,” adding that on the preceding Tuesday he had got inebriated in drinking her health, and in that condition had committed miserable follies. He proceeds:—

“You must resolve to visit my goddess. You are a stranger, and may do a romantic thing. You shall have consultation guineas, as an ambassador has his appointments. You see how I use you. In short, between us two, all rules and all maxims are suspended. Pray prepare yourself for this adventure; we shall settle it, I hope; I cannot go with you, though. You are to see our country for a jaunt upon my recommendation.”

Boswell was practical for once. In assuring his reverend friend that he would have his “consultation guineas” he meant that his travelling costs would be defrayed should he consent to visit Ayrshire, and recommend him to Miss Blair. The proposal was acceded to. Mr. Temple agreed to proceed on his mission at once on being furnished with the needful instructions. Before the end of July he was in Scotland, provided with an itinerary, from which we extract the following:—

“Wednesday.—Thomas[43] will bring you to Adamtown a little after eleven. Send up your name; if possible, put up your horses there, they can have cut grass; if not, Thomas will take them to Mountain, a place a mile off, and come back and wait at dinner. Give Miss Blair my letter. Salute her and her mother; ask to walk. See the place fully; think what improvements should be made. Talk of my mare, the purse, the chocolate. Tell them you are my very old and intimate friend. Praise me for my good qualities, you know them; but talk also how odd, how inconstant, how impetuous, how much accustomed to women of intrigue. Ask gravely, ‘Pray don’t you imagine there is something of madness in that family?’ Talk of my various travels, German princes, Voltaire and Rousseau. Talk of my father, my strong desire to have my own house. Observe her well. See how amiable! Judge if she would be happy with your friend. Think of me as the great man at Adamtown—quite classical, too! Study the mother. Remember well what passes. Stay tea. At six order horses and go to New Mills, two miles from Loudoun; but if they press you stay all night, do it. Be a man of as much ease as possible. Consider what a romantic expedition you are on; take notes; perhaps you now fix me for life.”

Instructions more extraordinary were never before delivered by lovesick swain to the friend of his suit. That friend was to inform the lady of his affections that he was “much accustomed to women of intrigue;” that he was “odd,” “inconstant,” and “impetuous;” and he was even to hint that there was madness in his family. That Boswell should have brought his friend 500 miles so to describe him to the lady of his affections is not the least remarkable feature of his strange career. Mr. Temple, it is hoped, was more discreet than his client.

On his return to Mamhead Mr. Temple married a gentlewoman who brought him a fortune of £1,300. Boswell wrote to Miss Blair, thanking her for her attention to his friend, but the lady was silent. Her suitor became perplexed; he feared that a certain nabob had “struck in,” or that Temple “had told her his faults too honestly.” At length, after he had endured the miseries of “a feverish disorder, the lady relented, and sent him a most agreeable letter.” She made an excuse that a letter of his had been delayed at the Ayr post office; but he had written several. On the 28th August he again communicates with Mr. Temple. He assumes the designation of a sovereign prince, and holds the clergyman as his ambassador.

“Are you not happy,” he writes, “to find that all is well between the Prince of Auchinleck and his fair neighbouring princess? In short, sir, I am one of the most fortunate men in the world. As Miss Blair is my great object at present, and you are a principal minister in forwarding the alliance, I enclose you the latest papers on the subject. You will find the letter I wrote her when ill, where you will see a Scots word roving, from the French rêver, as if to dream awake. I put it down as a good English word, not having looked in Johnson. You will next find the lady’s answer, then a long letter from me, which required an extraordinary degree of good sense and temper to answer it with an agreeable propriety; then her answer, which exceeds my highest expectations. Read these papers in their order, and let me have your excellency’s opinion. Am I not now as well as I can be? What condescension! what a desire to please! She studies my disposition, and resolves to be cautious, &c. Adorable woman! Don’t you think I had better not write again till I see her? I shall go west in a fortnight, but I can hardly restrain myself from writing to her in transport. I will go to Adamtown and stay a week. I will have no disguise; we shall see each other fairly. We are both independent; we have no temptation to marry but to make each other happy. Let us be sure if that would be the consequence.”

On the 5th of November Boswell writes to Mr. Temple from Adamtown:—

“My dear Temple,—The pleasure of your countenance in reading the date of this letter is before me at this moment.... In short, I am sitting in the room with my princess, who is at this moment a finer woman than ever she appeared to me before. But, my valuable friend, be not too certain of your Boswell’s felicity, for indeed he has little of it at present.... For ten days I was in a fever, but at last I broke the enchantment. However, I could not be too sullen in my pride; I wrote to her from Auchinleck, and wished her joy, &c.; she answered me, with the same ease as ever, that I had no occasion. I then wrote her a strange sultanish letter, very cold and very formal, and did not go to see her for near three weeks....

“But the princess and I have not yet made up our quarrel; she talks lightly of it. I am resolved to have a serious conversation with her to-morrow morning. If she can still remain indifferent as to what has given me much pain, she is not the woman I thought her, and from to-morrow morning shall I be severed from her as a lover. I shall just bring myself, I hope, to a good easy tranquillity. If she feels as I wish her to do, I shall adore her while my blood is warm.”