Unaccepted as a lover, Zelide declined becoming a correspondent; she was soon forgotten. Mr. Temple was opposed to Miss Dick, and Boswell, though he disapproved his friend’s opinion, began to look elsewhere. After two months,[46] he writes to Mamhead, that he had found another mistress—a certain Mary Anne, an Irish beauty. He congratulates himself on having escaped “the insensible Miss B. and the furious Zelide,” and “rejoices in the finest creature that ever was formed, la belle Irlandaise.” “Imagine to yourself, Temple,” he adds, “a young lady just sixteen, formed like a Grecian nymph, with the sweetest countenance, full of sensibility, accomplished, with a Dublin education, always half the year in the north of Ireland, her father a councillor-at-law, with the estate of £1,000 a year, and above £10,000 in ready money; her mother a sensible, well-bred woman; she the darling of her parents, and no other child but her sister.” He adds, “Upon my honour I never was so much in love; I never was before in a situation to which there was not some objection, but here every flower is united, and not a thorn to be found.... What a fortunate fellow am I! What a variety of adventures in all countries! I was allowed to walk a great deal with Miss——; I repeated my fervent passion to her again and again; she was pleased, and I could swear that her little heart beat. I carved the first letter of her name on a tree; I cut off a lock of her hair, male pertinax. She promised not to forget me, nor to marry a lord before March.... This is the most agreeable passion I ever felt; sixteen, innocence, and gaiety make me quite a Sicilian swain. Before I left London I made a vow in St. Paul’s church that I would not allow myself ... for six months. I am hitherto firm to my vow, and already feel myself a superior being.... In short, Maria has me without any rival.”
Amidst these vows and assurances of amendment, Boswell acknowledges that he had during the last two months “employed a great deal of time in gaming,” and had thereby wasted his means. Within three months he has forgotten Mary Anne, is again a visitor at Adamtown, and on his knees before Miss Blair. That lady is provokingly curt, and Boswell is assured by her mother that he had made such a joke of his love for her in every company that she was piqued.[47] After “this relapse of fever” has continued a few weeks he bids a second adieu to Adamtown, and determines to renew his addresses to Mary Anne. “Then,” he writes, “came a kind letter from my amiable aunt Boyd in Ireland, and all the charms of sweet Mary Anne revived. Since that time I have been quite constant to her, and as indifferent towards Kate as if I never had thought of her.... After her behaviour, do I, the candid, generous Boswell, owe her anything? Am I anyhow bound by passionate inclinations to which she did not even answer? Write to me, my dear friend. She will be here soon. I am quite easy with her. What should I do? By all that’s enchanting I go to Ireland in March!”
To the letter just quoted Boswell adds two postscripts. In the first he intimates that he is “a good deal in debt.” In the second, he remarks, “My present misfortune is occasioned by drinking. Since my return to Scotland I have fallen a great deal too much into that habit, which still prevails in Scotland. Perhaps the coldness of the Scots requires it, but my young blood is turned to madness by it. This will be a warning to me, and from henceforth I shall be a perfect man; at least, I hope so.” Confessions which close the letter strongly proved that the writer’s aspirations after perfection were altogether illusory.
In May, 1769, Boswell fulfilled his intention of visiting Ireland. Through the influence of Mr. Sibthorpe, a landowner in the county or Down, husband of one of his cousins, he was introduced into elegant and lettered society. At Dublin he dined with Lord Charlemont, and met such literary celebrities as Dr. Leland, Mr. Flood, Dr. Macbride, and George Falconer, the friend of Swift and Chesterfield. More conspicuous hospitalities which attended him at Dublin he deemed worthy of a place in a reputed organ of fashionable intelligence. At his request the Public Advertiser informed its readers on the 7th of July that “James Boswell, Esq., having now visited Ireland, he dined with his Grace the Duke of Leinster at his seat at Carton: he went also by special invitation to meet the Lord Lieutenant at his country seat at Leixlip, to which he was conducted, in one of his Excellency’s coaches, by Lieut.-Colonel Walshe. He dined there and stayed all night, and next morning came in the coach with his Excellency to the Phœnix Park, and was present at a review of Sir Joseph Yorke’s dragoons. He also dined with the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor. He is now set out on his return to Scotland.” In Ireland he remained six weeks, chiefly occupied in prosecuting his suit. But the “charming Mary Anne” would only laugh at his protestations. In deepest mortification he complained to his cousin Margaret Montgomerie, who had accompanied him to Ireland. She offered her sympathy, and Boswell in gratitude tendered his hand. It was accepted cordially. Miss Montgomerie was not rich, but she possessed largely what her lover entirely lacked—discretion and common sense. Her pedigree justified her union with the heir of Auchinleck. Paternally she was related to the noble house of Eglinton, and her father, Mr. David Montgomerie, of Lainshaw, claimed the dormant peerage of Lyle. To Lord Auchinleck the proposed union gave entire satisfaction.
The solemnization of the marriage was deferred till autumn. Meanwhile Boswell resolved to pay another visit to the metropolis. Misfortune had attended Paoli. With the sum of £700, which he raised by subscription, Boswell, in August, 1768, shipped for Corsica a quantity of cannon from the Carron Ironworks.[48] Whether the artillery reached its destination, and to what extent it proved useful, has not been related. Unable to overcome Paoli, the Genoese transferred Corsica to the French, who accepting the gift, despatched an army under the Marshal de Vaux to take possession. The inhabitants fought bravely, but were overwhelmed by numbers. Paoli embarked on the 16th June, 1769, in an English vessel bound for Leghorn. Crossing the Continent he repaired to London, where he was hailed with the honours due to his patriotism. Boswell hastened from Scotland to offer his respects. Paoli received him warmly.
On the 6th September a national jubilee at Stratford-on-Avon celebrated the memory of Shakspere. Writing on this subject to the Scots Magazine of the same month, Boswell, while generally commending the proceedings, expressed regret that the demonstration commenced with an oratorio. “I could have wished,” he wrote, “that prayers had been read, and a short sermon preached; it would have consecrated our jubilee to begin it with devotion—with gratefully adoring the Supreme Father of all spirits, from whom cometh every good and perfect gift.” In strange contrast with these devotional sentiments was Boswell’s own procedure at the jubilee. He took the part of a buffoon, in supposed tribute to patriotism. Rejoicing in his achievement, he published an account of his appearance in the London Magazine for September, accompanied with his portrait. His narrative proceeds thus:—
“One of the most remarkable masks upon this occasion was James Boswell, Esq., in the dress of an armed Corsican chief. He entered the amphitheatre about twelve o’clock. He wore a short dark-coloured coat of coarse cloth, scarlet waistcoat and breeches, and black spatter-dashes; his cap or bonnet was of black cloth; on the front of it was embroidered in gold letters, “Viva la Liberta,” and on one side of it was a handsome blue feather and cockade, so that it had an elegant as well as a warlike appearance. On the breast of his coat was sewed a Moor’s head, the crest of Corsica, surrounded with branches of laurel. He had also a cartridge pouch into which was stuck a stiletto, and on his left side a pistol was hung upon the belt of his cartridge pouch. He had a fusee slung across his shoulder, wore no powder in his hair, but had it plaited at full length with a knot of blue ribbons at the end of it. He had, by way of staff, a very curious vine all of one piece, with a bird finely carved upon it emblematical of the sweet bard of Avon. He wore no mask, saying that it was not proper for a gallant Corsican. So soon as he came into the room he drew universal attention. The novelty of the Corsican dress, its becoming appearance, and the character of that brave nation concurred to distinguish the armed Corsican chief. He was first accosted by Mrs. Garrick, with whom he had a good deal of conversation. Mr. Boswell danced both a minuet and a country dance with a very pretty Irish lady, Mrs. Sheldon, wife to Captain Sheldon, of the 38th Regiment of Foot, who was dressed in a genteel domino, and before she danced threw off her mask.”
In honour of Corsica, Boswell read to the assemblage at Stratford a poem which he published the same month in the Scots Magazine. These are the concluding lines:—
“Let me plead for liberty distressed,