But if all fools are alike in so far as they have this common foundation upon which the flimsy fabric of folly is erected, yet they differ widely in the manner of their foolishness. To say that a man is a fool is to say but little of all that is meant by the expression in his individual case. Boswell was a fool in a number of ways which we shall now have to consider.
The extract of Boswell's letter to his father which we have quoted above in his letter to Temple is typical of one phase of all his foolishness. The impulse which made him write in this place about 'cultivating his little farm and ornamenting his nuptial villa' is one which he frequently had. It is difficult to find a name which exactly fits it. It is the melodramatic instinct applied to real life. The words which he uses in this case contain a sentiment beyond the mere facts they represent; and it is a false sentiment—false not because he did not feel it, but because there was no occasion for it; sentiment is wasted. In Boswell there was a sentimental side to the affectation that we have already spoken of as having been partially cured by Johnson. It is not meant, by this expression, that Boswell consciously assumed sentiment which he did not feel: we cannot always tell whether he was conscious or not; and it does not matter. Affectation implies only the presence of what is unreal; it is concerned as much with the feeling of what is false as with falsely pretending to feel.
EXTRAVAGANT WORDSPerhaps the most remarkable of Boswell's extravagant utterances are those to Temple on the subject of their friendship. He idealises this to suit his conception of the most perfect of human relationships, and frequently alludes to it. '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!' He was able to enjoy the 'luxury of philosophy and friendship,' and 'invaluable hours of elegant friendship and classical sociality,' and 'calmly smile' in consequence 'at the attacks of envy or of malevolence.' Temple, 'whose kind and amiable counsel never failed to soothe my dejected mind,' was told to 'reflect, my friend, that you have sure comfort, you have true friends—you have Nichols and Boswell, whom you may look upon as parts of yourself. Consider this as an exalted comfort which few enjoy, although they have many of the shining gifts of fortune.' He seems at one moment to have suspected that he might grow cold in his affection:
I am a quick fire, but I know not if I last sufficiently, though, surely, my dear Temple, there is always a warm place for you. With many people I have compared myself to a taper, which can light up a great and lasting fire though itself is soon extinguished.
The friendship, indeed, was of the greatest value to Boswell; as we see, behind his absurd manner of expressing it, it must have been a comfort to him in many disappointments:
When harassed and fretted with Court of Sessions business, when vexed to think myself a coarse labourer in an obscure corner, I get into good humour again by recollecting that I am Temple's most intimate friend.[20]
His friendship with Mrs. Stuart is treated in the same manner:
We talked with unreserved freedom, as we had nothing to fear; we were philosophical, upon honour,—not deep, but feeling; we were pious, we drank tea and bid each other adieu as finely as romance paints. She is my wife's dearest friend, so you see how beautiful our intimacy is.[21]