Should there be any cold-blooded morose mortals who really dislike this Book, I will give them a story to apply. When the great Duke of Marlborough, accompanied by Lord Cadogan, was one day reconnoitering the army in Flanders, a heavy rain came on and they both called for their cloaks. Lord Cadogan's servant, a good-humoured, alert lad, brought his Lordship's in a minute. The Duke's servant, a lazy sulky dog, was so sluggish, that his Grace being wet to the skin, reproved him, and had for answer, with a grunt, 'I came as fast as I could,' upon which the Duke calmly said, 'Cadogan, I would not for a thousand pounds have that fellow's temper.'

Boswell's satisfaction with his literary labours was certainly well-founded. It is fair to remind those who may condemn this attitude that he allowed an unduly large share of the book's merits to Dr. Johnson. Interesting and lovable as Johnson was, he had little to do with Boswell's execution. The biographer was fortunate—peculiarly fortunate—in his subject: so much must be allowed and no more. Boswell's pride did not exceed his deserts. But his 'moments of self-complacency' must have provided a considerable compensation for despondent moods when he regretted failure in other spheres. His 'satisfaction' reached a very high pitch when he could calmly say to an unappreciative reader—for that is what it amounts to—that he would be sorry to have a temper like that.

It is not remarkable for an author to feel as self-satisfied as Boswell. Many authors tell their readers, though not so frankly, that they ought to be interested in a book, and few give so good reasons as Boswell gave. The point has been laboured here in order to illustrate the final stage in his paradoxical development; to show in what degree Boswell, while realising failure in all his magnificent dreams, was satisfied with the fame he had of another sort. Assuredly he was pleased with what he had; the degree may be judged from this final extract from the Advertisement to the Second Edition:

There are some men, I believe, who have, or think they have, a very small share of vanity. Such may speak of their literary fame in a decorous style of diffidence. But I confess, that I am so formed by nature, and by habit, that to restrain the effusion of LITERARY FAME delight, on having obtained such fame, to me would be truly painful. Why then should I suppress it? Why 'out of the abundance of the heart' should I not speak? Let me then mention with a warm, but no insolent exultation, that I have been regaled with spontaneous praise of my work by many and various persons eminent for their rank, learning, talents and accomplishments; much of which praise I have under their hands to be reposited in my archives at Auchinleck. An honourable and reverend friend, speaking of the favourable reception of my volumes, even in the circles of fashion and elegance, said to me, 'You have made them all talk Johnson.'—Yes, I may add, I have Johnsonised the land; and I trust they will not only talk but think Johnson.

Boswell, after all, had changed very little since the publication of the 'Tour in Corsica' in his desire for literary fame, but he must have had a very different view of what it meant. In early life this literary ambition was but one aspect of the prevailing idea, to be 'the great man'; and he intended to win respect through literature as a wise and honoured 'citizen of the world.' He cannot have retained this delusion after publishing the 'Tour to the Hebrides.' It was in the very month when the 'Life' appeared that he spoke of 'the disappointment of my hopes of success in life.' There was no thought that the 'Life' would redeem these hopes. It was to win praise and bring esteem: but not in the same sphere with these 'hopes of success.' Boswell's literary fame compensated his disappointment in some degree, but by no means banished it. His triumphant satisfaction was founded, as is the case with many literary men, upon the merits of literary work and the applause of competent judges.

.....

Such changes as may be observed in Boswell towards the end of his life arose, it must be repeated, from the failure of his political and legal ambitions. When he ceased to pursue the adventures suggested by his wild imagination, he paid more attention to the natural interests of his position. He was a landlord and a father; and his children had now no mother. Boswell not only accepted his responsibilities, but performed something more than his duty.

When Boswell had left Auchinleck and came to live in London, his opportunities for interesting himself in the welfare of his tenants and dependants were naturally curtailed. With the strict view of a landlord's obligations which is commonly held in this age, we may be inclined to condemn Boswell simply on the ground that he did not live upon his estate. But, though Ayrshire is a far cry from London, the Laird of Auchinleck did not forget his position. He was willing to travel to Scotland 'to transact business with my tenants.' On one occasion, in 1793, he undertook the journey in order to see that the parish was provided AUCHINLECK with a suitable parson: 'The choice of a minister to a worthy parish is a matter of importance, and I cannot be sure of the real wishes of the people without being present.' He went to Auchinleck not because he enjoyed going, but because he thought he ought to go: 'though the journey will no doubt be uncomfortable (probably because Boswell was in bad health), and my being alone in that house where once I was so happy, be dreary in a woeful degree, the consciousness of duty, and being busy, will I hope support me.' In Boswell's will special provisions were made for his tenants and servants:

As there are upon the estate of Auchinleck several tenants whose families have possessed their farms for many generations, I do by these presents grant leases for nineteen years and their respective lifetimes of their present farms to John Templeton etc.... And I do beseech all the succeeding heirs of entail to be kind to the Tenants and not turn out old possessors to get a little more rent.

'Seldom,' exclaims Dr. Rogers, 'has Scottish landlord evinced greater consideration for his tenantry and domestics.'