But old men forget in a wonderful degree their own feelings in the early part of life, are angry because the young are not as sedate in the season of effervescence as they are, would have the fruit where in the course of nature there should be only the blossom, and complain because another generation has not been able to ascend the steep of prudence in a fourth part of the time which they themselves have taken.
These few quotations may suffice to show that Boswell's essays are worthy of some attention. They can be read with pleasure because Boswell was both a capable writer and an agreeable man. And, moreover, Boswell was a good man. It is a somewhat ridiculous exclamation, because the fact is so striking and so indisputable. One might dispute the proposition that to write an unrivalled biography a man must be good: BOSWELL AS ESSAYIST it would probably be a foolish discussion, for the common sense of mortals refuses to believe that one who has done a supremely good thing is not himself essentially good. But to dispute it in the case of Boswell—when we consider how many hearts he has won, and with how excellent a wooing, surely that would be preposterous! He was not wholly good more than other men, nor less than the majority; but he possessed a quantity of good that might be envied of the best. And this is true, not of the man only, but of the writer. The test is a very simple one: the plain fact is that it is impossible to read Boswell without feeling better. Boswell does not edify in the spiritual fashion of Michael Angelo or Milton; but he edifies just as truly. With Boswell we never want to leave the world for something better, but we want to live in it and enjoy life to the full; and we want especially to love other men. It is not a small matter that we should feel this: and as we may feel it in the 'Life of Johnson,' we may feel it also, though in a less degree, in the essays.
But 'The Hypochondriack' is not to be read for the sake of the author's opinions, nor even for the arguments by which he supports them. For Boswell writes from a conventional point of view. His conclusions are not his very own. He has never been tossed in the great void and fought long doubtful battles for a sure place to stand on. His children have not been begotten with pangs, but adopted for pleasure.
And here we return to the main battle. Boswell was conventional. But this is by no means a sufficient explanation. Clearly, in some respects, it is not even true. What then is the range of Boswell's conventionality and what are its limits?
Beliefs are the result, as a rule, either of tradition, or of emotional experience, or of mere desire. In a few rare spirits they may be determined in more intellectual fashion; but Reason is seldom mistress, and very often she is servant and nurse. By reason, we seek to justify our prejudices and convictions. With varying degrees of intellectual dishonesty we make use of reason to reject what we dislike and nourish what we prefer.
Boswell's case was somewhat uncommon. He was clearly not very critical. Having once adopted an attitude he marched through life without looking back. We have seen something of the outlook he adopted conventionally. He deceived himself, however, far less than most men of those opinions. And in the effort to believe what he wished to believe, Boswell used reason in a curiously deliberate fashion. He accepted the conventional beliefs and standards in an unconventional manner—not chaotically and aimlessly, but perceiving what the conventional aim essentially was, and approving it as a mode of living.
Boswell's philosophy of life, as far as he had a BELIEFS philosophy, was to have in all (including, that is, the future life of happiness which he flattered himself that he would be able to enjoy) the maximum amount of pleasure. Pleasure and happiness, these are ends in themselves; and except in so far as pleasure must be restrained for the sake of happiness either in this state of being or in another—and Boswell can hardly be said to have practised restraint in any remarkable degree—they are not distinguished. Pleasure he speaks of as 'not only the aim but the end of our being.' 'To be happy,' he says, 'as far as mortality and human imperfection allow, is the wisest study of men.'
In the 'Hypochondriack' essays we see how entirely Boswell's philosophy of life is a philosophy of comfort. With regard, for instance, to Love—a subject which, since three papers of 'The Hypochondriack' are devoted to it, must have been considered important—though too logical to be entirely conventional, his doctrine is frankly based upon his view of happiness:
As no disorder of the imagination has produced more evils than the passion of love, it behoves us to guard ourselves with caution against its first appearance.
However coldness or indifference is unpleasant, yet excess of love or fondness is bad, not only as it is not lasting, but also because it is disagreeable at the time.
It is in his religious views that we see best this attitude of Boswell. While his opinions were on the one hand completely conventional, they yet depended quite consciously upon this doctrine of happiness.