has fallen over a precipice to which he has walked too near, 'His two legs brought him to that;'-is he not the better for having two legs ? "

At Dr. Blair's I left him, in order to attend a consultation, during which he and his amiable host were by themselves. I returned to supper, at which were Principal Robertson, Mr. Nairne, and some other gentlemen. Dr. Robertson and Dr. Blair, I remember, talked well upon subordination and government; and, as my friend and I were walking home, he said to me, Sir, these two doctors are good men, and wise men."-I begged of Dr. Blair to recollect what he could of the long conversation that passed between Dr. Johnson and him alone this evening, and he obligingly wrote to me as follows:

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March 3, 1785.

DEAR SIR-AS so many years have intervened, since I chanced to have that conversation with Dr. Johnson in my house, to which you refer, I have forgotten most of what then passed, but remember that I was both instructed and entertained by it. Among other subjects, the discourse happened to turn on modern Latin poets, the Dr. expressed a very favourable opinion of Buchanan, and instantly repeated, from beginning to end, an ode of his, intituled 'Calendæ Maia' (the eleventh in his 'Miscel laneorum Liber'), beginning with these words, 'Salvete sacris deliciis sacræ,' with which I had formerly been unacquainted; but upon perusing it, the praise which he bestowed upon it, as one of the happiest of Buchanan's poetical compositions, appeared to me very just. He also repeated to me a Latin ode he had composed in one of the western islands, from which he had lately returned. We had much discourse concerning his excursion to those islands, with which he expressed himself as having been highly pleased; talked in a favourable manner of the hospitality of the inhabitants; and particularly spoke much of his happiness in having you for his companion; and said, that the longer he knew you, he loved and esteemed you the more. This conversation passed in the interval between tea and supper, when we were by ourselves. You, and the rest of the company who were with us at supper, have often taken notice that he was uncommonly bland and gay that evening, and gave much pleasure to all who were present. This is all that I can recollect distinctly of that long conversation. Yours sincerely,

HUGH BLAIR.

dependants he (Mr. Ferguson) has seen, in consequence of the then existing right of heritable jurisdiction, three or four, and sometimes half-a-dozen, hung up by the heels for hours, on the few trees round the mansion."-(King's " Munimenta Antiqua.") In 1745 Lovat wrote to the Lord Advocate as follows:-"My clan and I have been so neglected these many years past, that I have not twelve stand of arms in my country though, I thank God, I could bring 1,200 good men to the field for the King's service if I had arms and other accoutrements for them." The Lord Advocate was too wise to intrust arms with the wily old chief, who was then in treaty with the Jacobite leaders. The Master of Lovat joined Prince Charles in January 1746 with 600 of his father's vassals. Of Simon Lord Lovat, who, as Sir Walter Scott remarks, united in miniature the arts of a Machiavel with the tyranny of a Cæsar Borgia, an interesting life has been written (1847) by Mr. J. Hill Burton, Advocate.-ED.

At Lord Hailes's, we spent a most agreeable day; but again I must lament that I was so indolent as to let almost all that passed evaporate into oblivion. Dr. Johnson observed there, that "it is wonderful how ignorant many officers of the army are, considering how much leisure they have for study, and the acquisition of knowledge." I hope he was mistaken; for he maintained that many of them were ignorant of things belonging immediately to their own profession; "for instance, many cannot tell how far a musket will carry a bullet;" in proof of which, I suppose, he mentioned some particular person, for Lord Hailes, from whom I solicited what he could recollect of that day, writes to me as follows:

"As to Dr. Johnson's observations about the ignorance of officers, in the length that a musket will carry, my brother, Colonel Dalrymple, was present, and he thought that the doctor was either mistaken, by putting the question wrong, or that he had conversed on the subject with some person out of service.

"Was it upon that occasion that he expressed no curiosity to see the room at Dumfermline, where Charles I. was born? I know that he was born,' said he, 'no matter where.' Did he envy us the birth-place of the king?"

Near the end of his " Journey," Dr. Johnson has given liberal praise to Mr. Braidwood's academy for the deaf and dumb. When he visited it, a circumstance occurred which was truly characteristical of our great lexicographer. "Pray," said he, can they pronounce any long words?" Mr. Braidwood informed him they could. Upon which Dr. Johnson wrote one of his sesquipedalia verba, which was pronounced by the scholars, and he was satisfied. My readers may perhaps wish to know what the word was; but I cannot gratify their curiosity. Mr. Braidwood told me, it remained long in his school, but had been lost before I made my inquiry.*

Dr. Johnson one day visited the Court of Session. He thought the mode of pleading there too vehement, and too much addressed to the passions of the judges. "This," said he, " is not the Areopagus." At old Mr. Drummond's, Sir John Dalrymple quaintly said, the two noblest animals in the world were a Scotch Highlander and an English sailor. Why, sir," said Dr. Johnson, “I shall say nothing

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* One of the best critics of our age" does not wish to prevent the admirers of the incorrect and nerveless style which generally prevailed for a century before Dr. Johnson's energetic writings were known, from enjoying the laugh that this story may produce, in which he is very ready to join them." He, however, requests me to observe that," my friend very properly chose a long word on this occasion, not, it is believed, from any predilection for polysyllables (though he certainly had a due respect for them), but in order to put Mr. Braidwood's skill to the strictest test, and to try the efficacy of his instruction by the most difficult exertion of the organs of his pupils."-Boswell.

7

as to the Scotch Highlander; but as to the English sailor, I cannot agree with you." Sir John said, he was generous in giving away his money.-JOHNSON : "Sir, he throws away his money, without thought, and without merit. I do not call a tree generous, that sheds its fruit at every breeze." Sir John having affected to complain of the attacks made upon his "Memoirs," Dr. Johnson said, “Nay, sir, do not complain. It is advantageous to an author that his book should be attacked as well as praised. Fame is a shuttlecock. If it be struck only at one end of the room, it will soon fall to the ground. To keep it up, it must be struck at both ends." Often have I reflected on this since; and, instead of being angry at many of those who have written against me, have smiled to think that they were unintentionally subservient to my fame, by using a battledoor to make me virum volitare per ora.

At Sir Alexander Dick's, from that absence of mind to which every man is at times subject, I told, in a blundering manner, Lady Eglintoune's complimentary adoption of Dr. Johnson as her son; for I unfortunately stated that her ladyship adopted him as her son, in consequence of her having been married the year after he was born. Dr. Johnson instantly corrected me. "Sir, don't you perceive that you are defaming the countess? For, supposing me to be her son, and that she was not married till the year after my birth, I must have been her natural son." A young lady of quality, who was present, very handsomely said, "Might not the son have justified the fault?" -My friend was much flattered by this compliment, which he never forgot. When in more than ordinary spirits, and talking of his journey in Scotland, he has called to me, "Boswell, what was it that the young lady of quality said of me at Sir Alexander Dick's?" Nobody will doubt that I was happy in repeating it.

My illustrious friend, being now desirous to be again in the great theatre of life and animated exertion, took a place in the coach, which was to set out for London on Monday the 22nd of November. Sir John Dalrymple pressed him to come on the Saturday before, to his house at Cranston, which being twelve miles from Edinburgh, upon the middle road to Newcastle, (Dr. Johnson had come to Edinburgh by Berwick, and along the naked coast,) it would make his journey easier, as the coach would take him up at a more seasonable hour than that at which it sets out. Sir John, I perceived, was ambitious of having such a guest; but, as I was well assured, that at this very time he had joined with some of his prejudiced countrymen in railing, at Dr. Johnson, and had said, "He wondered how any gentleman of Scotland could keep company with him," I thought he did not deserve the honour; yet, as it might be a convenience to Dr. Johnson, I con

trived that he should accept the invitation, and engaged to conduct him. I resolved that, on our way to Sir John's, we should make a little circuit by Roslin Castle and Hawthornden, and wished to set out soon after breakfast; but young Mr. Tytler came to show Dr. Johnson some essays which he had written; and my great friend, who was exceedingly obliging when thus consulted, was detained so long, that it was, I believe, one o'clock before we got into our postchaise. I found that we should be too late for dinner at Sir John Dalrymple's, to which we were engaged; but I would by no means lose the pleasure of seeing my friend at Hawthornden, of seeing Sam Johnson at the very spot where Ben Jonson visited the learned and poetical Drummond.*

We surveyed Roslin Castle, the romantic scene around it, and the beautiful Gothic chapel, and dined and drank tea at the inn; after which we proceeded to Hawthornden, and viewed the caves; and I all the while had Rare Ben in my mind, and was pleased to think that this place was now visited by another celebrated wit of England.

By this time "the waning night was growing old," and we were yet several miles from Sir John Dalrymple's. Dr. Johnson did not seem much troubled at our having treated the baronet with so little attention to politeness; but when I talked of the grievous disappointment it must have been to him that we did not come to the feast that he had prepared for us, (for he told us he had killed a seven-year old sheep on purpose,) my friend got into a merry mood, and jocularly said, “I dare say, sir, he has been very sadly distressed: Nay, we do not know but the consequence may have been fatal. Let me try to describe his situation in his own historical style. I have as good a right to make him think and talk, as he has to tell us how people thought and talked a hundred years ago, of which he has no evidence. All history, so far as it is not supported by contemporary evidence, is romance. Stay now. Let us consider!"-He then (heartily laughing all the while) proceeded in his imitation, I am sure to the following

* The visit so finely alluded to by Collins:

"Then will I dress once more the faded bower,

Where Jonson sat in Drummond's classic shade."

"Rare Ben" visited Scotland in the summer of 1618. He was then in his forty-fifth year, and was gross and heavy in person ("my mountain belly and my rocky face") yet he performed the long journey on foot. He had written an account of his journey, a poem, "with all the adventures," but the manuscript was destroyed, along with several other papers, by an accidental fire. This misfortune led the poet to pour out a rhyming execration upon Vulcan, in which all his readers will cordially join. Drummond states that Jonson had an intention of writing" a fisher or pastoral play, and set the stage of it in the Lomond lake." Also, "He is to write his foot-pilgrimage hither, and to call it a Discovery. In a poem he calleth Edinburgh

'The heart of Scotland. Britain's other eye. "-ED.

effect, though now, at the distance of almost twelve years, I cannot pretend to recollect all the precise words:

"Dinner being ready, he wondered that his guests were not yet come. His wonder was soon succeeded by impatience. He walked about the room in anxious agitation; sometimes he looked at his watch, sometimes he looked out of the window with an eager gaze of expectation, and revolved in his mind the various accidents of human life. His family beheld him with mute concern. Surely (said he, with a sigh), they will not fail me.'-The mind of man can bear a certain pressure; but there is a point when it can bear no more. A rope was in his view, and he died a Roman death." *

It was very late before we reached the seat of Sir John Dalrymple, who, certainly with some reason, was not in very good humour. Our conversation was not brilliant. We supped, and went to bed in ancient rooms, which would have better suited the climate of Italy in summer, than that of Scotland in the month of November.†

I recollect no conversation of the next day, worth preserving, xcept one saying of Dr. Johnson, which will be a valuable text for many decent old dawagers, and other good company, in various circles to descant upon. He said, "I am sorry I have not learnt to play at cards. It is very useful in life: it generates kindness, and consolidates society."-He certainly could not mean deep play.

My friend and I thought we should be more comfortable at the inn at Blackshields, two miles farther on. We therefore went thither in the evening, and he was very entertaining; but I have preserved nothing but the pleasing remembrance, and his verses on George the Second and Cibber, and his epitaph on Parnell, which he was then so good as to dictate to me. We breakfasted together next morning, and then the coach came and took him up. He had, as one of his companions in it as far as Newcastle, the worthy and ingenious Dr. Hope, botanical professor at Edinburgh. Both Dr. Johnson and he

* "Essex was at that time confined to the same chamber of the Tower from which his father, Lord Capel, had been led to death, and in which his wife's grandfather had inflicted a voluntary death upon himself. When he saw his friend carried to what he reckoned certain fate, their common enemies enjoying the spectacle, and reflected that it was he who had forced Lord Howard upon the confidence of Russel, he retired, and, by a Roman death, put an end to his misery." (Dalrymple's "Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland," vol. i. p. 36.)--BOSWELL

+ Johnson, when at Sir James Colquhoun's, claimed for himself the character of a very polite man ;" and Boswell added his testimony to the same effect. Sir John Dalrymple would not have countersigned the statement. The conduct of the travellers towards the learned baronet was certainly uncivil and contemptuous. There was also great indelicacy, to say the least of it, in Boswell's publishing the above during Sir John's life-time. The baronet became a Baron of Exchequer in Scotland, and died in 1810, aged eighty-four years.-ED.