“A very big man said he intended often to have spoke in the House of Commons. ‘I wish you had, sir,’ said Matthew Henderson; ‘for if you had not been heard, you would at least have been seen.’”
Capt. Keith Stuart.
P. 1. “April.—My father said to me, ‘I am much pleased with your conduct in every respect.’ After all my anxiety while abroad, here is the most perfect approbation and calm of mind. I never felt such sollid (sic) happiness. But I feel I am not so happy with this approbation and this calm as I expected to be. Alas! such is the condition of humanity, that we are not allowed here the perfect enjoyment of the satisfaction which arises even from worth. But why do I say alas! when I really look upon this life merely as a transient state?
P. 2. “I must stay at Auchinleck. I have there just the kind of complaining proper for me. All must complain, and I more than most of my fellow-creatures.
P. 3. “A man is but in proportion to the impressions which his power makes. I see there is variety of powers.”
“Saturday, April 19th.—This morning my worthy father wak’d me early and told me of the sudden death of my Lord Justice Clerk (Lord Minto),[174] and repeated with a calm solemnity,—
‘Trahimur sævo rapiente fato.’”
“A modern man of taste found fault with the avenues at Auchinleck, and said he wished to see straggling trees. ‘I wish,’ said Boswell, ‘I could see straggling fools in this world.’”
“Boswell said that business itself helps a man on just as the chaise going down a hill helps on the horse which is in the shafts. ‘When,’ said he, ‘I think of the fatigues of the law I tremble. But when I have once get on the harnessing of a Process, away I go without difficulty. This is just; let a man never despond as to anything, let him be yok’d, and no fear.’”
“When Boswell observed that the Lords of Session were often inattentive, he said he wished he had liberty to speak to the bench as one speaks to a company, where if any one whom one wishes to attend appears to be absent, one can rouse him by directing the discourse particularly to him. ‘So,’ said Boswell, ‘I would say, “My Lord Sagely, your lordship must surely agree,” &c.; “But besides, my Lord Doubtfull, it appears,” &c.’”
“Boswell had a great aversion to the law, but forced himself to enter upon that laborious profession in compliance with the anxious desire of his father, for whom he had the greatest regard. After putting on the gown, he said with great good humour to his brother advocates, ‘Gentlemen, I am prest into the service here; but I have observed that a prest man, either by sea or land, after a little time does just as well as a volunteer.’”
“Lord Auchinleck said the great point for a judge is to conduct a cause with safety and expedition, like a skillfull pilot. ‘The Agents always endeavour to keep a cause afloat. But I keep my eye upon the haven, and the moment I have got him fairly in order I give one hearty push, and there he’s landed.’”
“Boswell said when we see a man of eminence we desire nothing more than to be of his acquaintance; we then wish to have him as a companion; and when we have attained that we are impatient till we gain a superiority over him. Such is the restless progress of man!”
“A sailor, who had been long out at sea, was on his return asked by a companion what sort of voyage they had. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘a very good one; only we had prayers twice. But one of the times there was no more occasion for them than if you and I should fall down and pray this minute.’”
Lord Loudoun.[175]
“My Lord Stair,[176] who wrote a very bad hand, sent once to my Lord Loudoun a written commission to be read to Sir Philip Honeywood.[177] Lord Loudoun received the letter at the British Coffee-house, where he was sitting after dinner with some friends taking a very hearty bottle; and whether the wine made him see double or no, so it was that he read the commission very distinctly. Next morning he went to wait on Sir Philip Honeywood, and being then quite cool and in his sober senses he could not read a word of it, and neither could Sir Philip. Lord Loudoun could not go back to Lord Stair and tell him his hand was not legible, so Sir Philip trusted to Lord Loudoun’s memory of what he had read the day before, and could not then read at all, a most curious fact. When the Duke of Cumberland was told of it he said, ‘Loudoun, why did you not stay and dine with Sir Philip, and then you would both have read it.’”
Lord Loudoun.
“Mr. Clark, uncle to Baron Clark, a most curious mortal, who had been bred a surgeon, had travelled over the greatest part of the world, and always walked. He had the misfortune to break one of his legs, and two pieces of the bone came out of it. He had them drest, and made hafts to a knife and fork of them. When he was dying he sent for Doctor Clark[178] and the Baron.[179] ‘Now, gentlemen,’ said he, ‘this knife and fork will be the most valuable part of my executory, and I’ll leave them to any of you two who shall give me the best inscription to put upon them. The Doctor, who was a fine classical scholar, tried a good many times, but at length the baron fairly got the better of him by a most elegant and well-adapted inscription,—
‘Quæ terra nostri non plena laboris?’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Campbell of Suckoth[180] and his son were both men of great wit. The father had been constantly attached to the Duke of Argyle, but had never got the least assistance from him, upon which the son went and paid court to the Duke of Hamilton. His dutchess (sic) was then of the Spencer family.[181] So young Suckoth planted a mount, which he called Mount Spencer. The dutchess made him a present of some fine foreign trees in flower-pots, so he got a cart and a couple of horses from his father to bring them home with, but most of them broke by the way. The old man was not pleased that his son had deserted his chief, so he says to him, ‘Dear John, why will you pay court to the House of Hamilton, for I see naething ye get frae them but a wheen broken pigs?’ ‘Sir,’ says he, ‘broken pigs are as good as broken promises.’ ‘Very true,’ John, ‘but they’re no sae dear o’ the carriage.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Sir William Gordon[182] wanted a servant who could write well. ‘My father,’ said he, ‘knew of a very clever fellow, but the most drunken, good-for-nothing dog that ever lived.’ ‘Oh,’ said Sir William, ‘no matter for that, let him be sent for.’ So when he came Sir William asked him a great many questions, to which Brodie answered most distinctly. At last he asked, him, ‘Can you write Latin, sir?’ ‘Can your honour read it?’ said he. Sir William was quite fond of him, and had him drest out to all advantage. One day, at his own table, he was telling a story. ‘Not so, sir,’ said Brodie, who was standing at his back. ‘You dog,’ said he, ‘how do you know?’ ‘Because I have heard your honour tell it before.’ He lived with Sir William more than seven years.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Sir William Gordon was always a singular character. When he came to be eighteen it was necessary for him to choose a curator, and he chose his own livery servant, ‘for’ said he, ‘one is plagued seeking for a curator to sign papers with you, and sometimes they refuse to sign.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Mr. Charles Cochrane[183] said one day to my Lord Justice Clerk (Charles Erskine[184]), ‘Pray, my lord, what is the reason that there never was a gentleman a ruling elder, who was not either a knave or a very weak man?’ ‘Ay, Charles’ said he, ‘why, I’m a ruling elder myself, and what do you take me to be?’ ‘A very weak man, my lord.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Sir Walter Pringle,[185] afterwards Lord Newhall, was apt to be very passionate when he thought a lord did not hear him properly. One day he appeared before Lord Forglen,[186] who was very heavy. Sir Walter opened his cause. The other party answered, and among other objections which they stated, they insisted on some trifling point of form, that the cause had not been regularly put up upon the wall. Sir Walter replied to all their objections with accuracy and spirit, but took no notice of the trifling point of form. ‘Lord Forglen,’ said Sir Walter, ‘you have pleaded your cause very well, but what do you say to the wall?’ ‘Indeed’ said he, ‘my lord, I have been speaking to it this half-hour;’ and off he went in a great passion.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Jack Bowes, an Englishman, who was married to a noted midwife at Edinburgh, and was really mad, but had great humour, got up one day on the steps which lead up to the New Kirk (the lady’s steps), and there he gathered a crowd about him, and preached to them. ‘Gentlemen,’ said he, ‘you will find my text in the 2nd Epistle of St. Paul to Timothy, the 4th chapter, and there the 13th verse, ‘The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments.’ ‘We insist upon the first clause. We see, gentlemen, from these words that Paul was a presbyter, for he wore a cloak. He does not say the gown which I left at Troas, but the cloak which I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest bring with thee. Timothy, we all know, was a bishop. Now, my friends, the doctrine I would inculcate from this is, that a presbyter had a bishop for his baggageman.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“A drover owed another ——, as the price of —— lambs. His creditor came and craved time for the money. ‘John,’ said he, ‘let me alone for a fortnight, for I really cannot pay you sooner.’ The creditor insisted, and called him before a judge and put him to his oath. He swore positively that he owed no such debt. After the court was over, the creditor asked him how he could swear against what he had owned so often. ‘Because,’ said he, ‘you forced me, and I had nothing else for it; but, however, John, you shall lose nothing by it, for I shall give you my bill for the money payable in a fortnight,’ and actually he did give his bill and paid him accordingly. A most wonderful mixture of impiety and honesty.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Sir William Gordon would needs make a library because my Lord Sunderland made one, but all he wanted was just dear books. He came in one day to Vanderaa’s shop, in Leyden, and asked if he had got any dear new books. Vanderaa showed him the ‘Thesaurus Italiæ et Siciliæ’ in—— volumes. Sir William turned to Dr. Cooper and said, ‘Pray, Doctor, have I got that book?’ ‘No, Sir William, nor do I think you have occasion for it.’ ‘Mr. Cooper, I cannot be without that book.’ ‘Upon my word, Sir William, I think you might very well be without it.’ ‘There, Mr. Cooper, you and I differ.—Mr. Vanderaa, let that book be packed up and sent for me to London.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Dr. Taylor, the oculist, was one evening supping at William Earl of Dumfries’s, at Edinburgh. He harangued with his usual fluency and impudence, and boasted that he knew the thoughts of everybody by looking at their eyes. The first Lady Dumfries,[187] who was hurt with his behaviour, asked him with a smile of contempt, ‘Pray, sir, do you know what I am thinking?’ ‘Yes, madam,’ said he. ‘Then,’ replied the countess, ‘it’s very safe, for I am sure you will not repeat it.’”
Dr. Webster, who was present.
“When the first Lady Dumfries was within a quarter of an hour of her death, she showed an attention to the interests of religion, and at the same time an address equal to that of any statesman. The earl came down from her all in tears, and told it to the Rev. Mr. Webster. ‘My lord,’ said she, ‘you have always shown a proper regard to the ordinances of religion. People have been pleased to say that you did so out of compliment to me. Providence is now giving your lordship an opportunity to show that it was entirely from yourself.’”
Dr. Webster.
“John Lord Hope[188] was educated at home about his father’s house, full of conceit, full of petulance. His mother, the first Lady Hopetown, stood much in awe of my lord, but when he was not present was very lively and agreeable. One night at supper Lord Hope had made some figure of the crumbs of his bread, and plagued all the company to tell what it was. Many flattered him; some called it a pretty summerhouse; some, one of the ruins of Rome, and so made him exceedingly vain. He at last applied to my lady his mother. ‘Madam,’ said he, ‘you have not told me what you think it is.’ ‘Well,’ said she, ‘if you will have what I think it, I shall tell you I think it a monument of a young lord’s folly.’”
Dr. Webster.
“Mr. William Nairne observed that it maybe said of a well-employed barrister who lays by much money, what Horace says of the ant,—
‘Ore trahit quodcunque potest atque addit acervo.’”
I was present.
“A gentleman expended immense sums of money in attempting to improve a barren soil. Boswell observed ‘that the gentleman was as busy burying gold as others are in digging it up.’”
“It has often occurred to me that artificial passions are stronger than real ones, just as a wall built with good mortar is found to be harder and worse to separate than the natural rock. A passion for pageantry, and many more of the passions generated in civilized life, often influence men more than the real genuine passions natural to man.”
“Cullen, the mimic,[189] had a wretched manner of his own. He was one forenoon reading Lord Mansfield’s admirable speech on the Privilege Bill. Several of our brother advocates were listening to him. I could not help laughing, for I said hearing Lord Mansfield’s speech read by Cullen was like hearing a piece of Handel’s music played on a (trump) Jew’s harp.”
“I have observed that business has a different effect on the spirits of different men. It sinks the spirits of some and raises the spirits of others. To the spirits of some, a variety of affairs are like stones put into a pool of water, which make the water rise in proportion to the quantity of stones; to the spirits of others, affairs (des affaires) are like sponges put into a pool of water, which suck it up. Men of great firmness can retain their vivacity amidst a multiplicity of business. The King of Prussia is a distinguished example.”[190]
“Mr. John Pettigrew,[191] minister of Govan, was one of the originals amongst the clergy of Scotland, of which there were many in the last age. His presbytery was once violently divided who should be moderator in the room of one Mr. Love,[192] then in the chair. While they were disputing with vast keenness Mr. Petticrew came in, and being asked his opinion, he said, ‘Moderator, let brotherly love continue.’ The presbytery took his advice, and so their disputes were ended in good humour.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Cullen, the mimick,[193] was excessively ugly, having most horrible teeth, and, upon the whole, a physiognomy worse than Wilkes’s. His own manner, as has been observed, was also wretched. One morning when he was grinning and pleading a cause, I stood by and observed, ‘Whom is Cullen taking off? He is taking off the devil.’”
“Sinclair, of Briggend, a Caithness laird, was telling that a gentleman with whom he had played at loo had a way of keeping Pam in the head of his boot, and bringing him out when he found him necessary. ‘Ay,’ said Andrew Erskine, ‘it seems he played booty with you.’”
I was present.
“I was defending one day poor Mrs. C—— at the time when her husband was suing her for a divorce, and saying that she was no worse than the Miss V——s, for all her faults were only innocent improprieties. ‘No worse!’ said Andrew Erskine, ‘she is ten times better; she only intrigued with certain people, but the Miss V——s did it with everybody that was near her, and would have done it with everybody at a distance had it been possible.’”
“Cullen, the mimick, as has been more than once observed, had a wretched manner of his own. I was one day to walk out with him to dine at Craig House with Mr. Lockhart,[194] the Dean of Faculty. I was saying to a lady that I wondered what characters he would give me by the road. ‘Oh,’ said she, ‘no matter, providing you have not himself. As Sir John Falstaff said to the hostess, when she offered the fat knight a hog’s countenance, “Any countenance but thy own.”’”
“John Home showed the Lord Chief Baron Orde a pair of pumps he had on, and desired his lordship to observe how well they were made, telling him at the same time that they had been made for Lord Bute,[195] but were rather too little for him, so his lordship had made John a present of them. ‘I think,’ said the Lord Chief Baron, ‘you have taken the measure of Lord Bute’s foot.’”
Lord Chief Baron Orde.[196]
“A very awkward fellow was dancing at the Edinburgh Assembly. Matthew Henderson[197] said, ‘He looks like a professor of dislocation.’”
Hon. Alex. Gordon, [See note, p. 254].[198]
“A man who uses a great many words to express his meaning shows that he has no distinct idea, no neatness of speech. He is like a bad marksman, who, instead of aiming a single stone at an object, takes up a handful of stones, gravel, sand, and all, and throws at it, thinking that in that manner he may hit it.”
“It sometimes happens that when a man throws out a reflection against one, he, without intending it, pays a compliment. In such a case, I think I am well entitled to take the compliment. If a man throws a snowball at me, and I find a diamond in the heart of it, surely the diamond is mine.”
“One day when a company of us were dining at Mr. Foote’s, in Edinburgh, and I believe I was the only man present who had any faith at all in spirits, many jokes flew around my head; but I stood my ground, and went so far as to say that I did not disbelieve the existence of witches. Matthew Henderson, who is very happy in uncommon wild sallies, cried out, ‘Johnson inoculates him by moonlight.’”
“In talking of Dr. Armstrong’s[199] excessive indolence to Andrew Erskine I used this strong figure, he is sometimes so that his soul cannot turn itself in its bed.”
“Allan Ramsay[200] painted a portrait of David Hume, dressed in scarlet with rich gold lace. ‘George III.,’ said he, ‘thought the picture very like, but thought the dress rather too fine. I wished,’ said Ramsay, ‘posterity should see that one philosopher during your Majesty’s reign had a good coat upon his back.’”
“Lord President Arniston[201] was a man of uncommon fire, but at the same time of a sound strong judgement. When he was at the Bar, and his fancy sometimes ran away with him, Lord Cullen said he was a wise man upon a mad horse.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“The first Earl of Stair[202] was a Captain of Dragoons, and when there was a comparative trial for an election to a regency, as it was called, or a professorship of the College of Glasgow, Mr. Dalrymple, afterwards known as Lord Stair, appeared in his jack-boots as a candidate, and carried the election. When he was afterwards pleading as a lawyer in the Court of Session, some ignorant fellow who was his opponent committed some gross blunders in the Latin which he quoted. ‘Pray’ said Stair, ‘don’t break Priscian’s head!’ ‘Sir,’ said the fellow, ‘I was not bred a schoolmaster.’ ‘No’ replied Stair, ‘nor a scholar either.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Lord Forglen was a most curious mixture of a character. Lord Newhall, who was a grave austere judge, told my father, ‘Forglen is a man of a desultory mind. I was once walking with him on that fine walk upon the river-side at Forglen, when all at once he says, “Now, my lord, this is a fine walk. If ye want to pray to God, can there be a better place? and if ye want to kiss a bonny lass, can there be a better place?”’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“In the southern countries the warmth of the sunny climate makes the people of a due warmth without drinking, but in northern countries men’s hearts are as hard as cold iron till heated by wine. In warm countries they are like the softer metals naturally; but with us there is no making any impression on the heart till it is heated by the fire of strong liquor. I look upon every jovial company among us as a forge of friendship.”
“A collection of bonmots or lively sallies which have appeared in law papers before the Court of Session, without being expunged, would be like the pictures preserved in Herculaneum, or like mirrors saved out of the ruins after the earthquake of Lisbon.”
“One of the gownkeepers to the Lords of Session had a wonderful share of natural humour. He was much given to drinking. One day the first Sir Gilbert Elliot, Lord Minto,[203] who from the political fury of the times had, when passing his trials as an advocate, been unjustly remitted to his studies, and Lord Anstruther,[204] another of the judges, who was noted for his ignorance, would needs amuse themselves with wagering so much beer that he could not walk along a certain deal in the floor of the parliament-house without going off it. The gownkeeper began; but being a good deal muddy with tippling, he soon staggered off the right line. ‘You’ve lost,’ cried Minto. ‘At leisure, my Lord,’ said he, ‘I’ll begin again. Your lordship was remitted to your studies; may not I be so too?’ Anstruther gave a good laugh. The gownkeeper turned to him,—‘True, my lord, he was remitted to his studies; but it was not for ignorance.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“The same gownkeeper at the time when the Court of Session used to sit in the afternoon was carrying in a couple of candles. Mr. William Carmichael, advocate, who was remarkably humpbacked, and, like all deformed people, loved a little mischief, stretched out his legs as the gownkeeper passed, which made him come down with a vengeance. The Lord President flew into a great passion, calling out, ‘You drunken beast! this is insufferable.’ The gownkeeper gathering himself up, addressed his lordship slily: ‘An’t please your lordship, I am not drunk; but the truth is, as I was bringing in the candles I fell ow’r Mr. William Carmichael’s back.’ (This fair hit put the whole court in good humour.)”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Wedderburn was a little while in opposition, and then joined the court. It was said by a patriot writer, he just kissed the cause like Judas in order to betray it.”
A newspaper.
“In the debate in Parliament about Falkland Island, Mr. Burke said, ‘Our ministry’s excusing themselves on account of its smallness puts me in mind of an unlucky country girl, who acknowledged that she had indeed a bastard child—but it was a very little one.’”
Newspapers.
“Wilkes was the ugliest fellow that ever lived, and a most notorious infidel. Boswell said he was partial as to one article, for he had too much interest to deny the resurrection of the body.”
“Wilkes was one evening in company with some French esprits forts who were every one atheist. Wilkes opposed them with great spirit, and then said, ‘Now in England Mr. Wilkes is looked upon as the most abandoned and impious fellow alive; and here am I defending the being of a God against you all.’”
From himself.
“Wilkes was one day talking of the resurrection of the body. ‘For my own share,’ said he, ‘I would no more value being raised with the same body than being raised in the same coat, waistcoat, and breeches.’”
I was present.
“Mr. John McLaren,[205] minister of the Tolbooth Church, Edinburgh, was a man of uncommon natural genius. My father wrote the heads of his sermons for many years. His last prayer was pretty much a form, and was full of strong expressions and lively figures: ‘Lord, bless Thy churches abroad in Hungary, Bohemia, Lithuania, Poland;’ and ‘Lord, pity Thy poor servants in France. Thou had once glorious churches there; but now they are like dead men out o’ mind.’ And speaking of hastening the restoration of the Jews, and in-bringing the Gentiles as a sort of joyful consummation, ‘Lord, shule [shovel] awa time.’ As he did not like the Union, ‘Pity poor Scotland. Our rowers have brought us into deep waters [a Scripture phrase], may we have a peur [pure] ministry and peur ordinances, and let the bane o’ Scotland never be a little-worth, lax, frothy ministry, that ken little o’ God, less o’ Christ, and are full of themselves.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“When John, Duke of Argyle, came down to Scotland in all his power, the Presbytery of Edinburgh were to wait upon him. The young fashionable brethren regretted much that Mr. McLaren was moderator, as they did not think he would make a proper elegant speech. However, Mr. McLaren addressed the duke thus:—‘My Lord Deuch (Duke), I am not used to make speeches to men like your Grace. All I shall say is your Grace has come of great and good men. Your Grace excels them all in greatness. I pray God you may excel them all in goodness.’ The duke, who had a high value for his ancestors, was greatly pleased with this speech. He said it was the genteelest compliment he had ever heard, and most suitable from a clergyman.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“When there was a thanksgiving day kept at Edinburgh for a victory by the Whig army over the Jacobites in the year 1715, Betty Frank, daughter to Mr. George Frank, advocate, Matthew Brown the clerk’s second wife, a great Jacobite, was passing by the Talbooth Kirk in the time of publick worship, and she dropped a halfpenny into the plate, wrapped in paper with this inscription,—
‘Stop, good preacher; go no further!
God receives no thanks for murther.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“It was formerly the custom for the magistrates of Edinburgh on the king’s birthday to get upon the Cross, which was hung with carpets and busked (drest) with flowers for the occasion, and before all the citizens to drink the health of the day, &c. The glasses used to be filled before they arrived. One day it was a very heavy rain, so that as the glasses overflowed there was at last hardly the colour of wine in them. On this occasion the same Mr. Brown wrote these lines:—
‘At Cana once heaven’s Lord was pleased
Amongst blithe bridle folks to dine,
And for to countenance their mirth
He turned their water into wine.
‘But when for joy of Brunswick’s birth
Our tribunes mounted the theatre,
Heaven would not countenance their mirth,
But turned their claret into water.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“The bonnie Earl of Moray,[206] he might ha’ been a queen, used to be ludicrously said of the late James, Earl of Moray. He might ha’ been a queen was, however, a serious compliment to express handsomeness in Regent Moray’s time, of whom it was said, ‘The noble earl,’ &c., and even of late date it was a serious expression in Scotland. My father told me that Taylour, the hill minister, speaking to him of Johnston of Wamphray, who was a very handsome man, said gravely, ‘He might ha’ been a queen.’”
“McIlvaine of Grümet (pronounced Grimmet), in Carrick, was a very great original. My father knew him well. He was a tall stately man, quite erect, with a long sword at right angles with his body, so that when he was going in or out at a door he stuck. All the old anti-revolutioners, of which number he was in a very zealous degree, were much in his style. He was offered a troop of horse at the Revolution, but refused it, as his conscience would not allow him to take the oaths to a new government. He had something of the old Spanish rhodomontade and a great deal of curious humour. He wrote to Mr. Charles Cochrane, with a present of solan geese, thus,—‘Worthy peer, I send you four solan geese to defeat the quadruple alliance, and all alliances, leagues, and covenants that have been made repugnant to religion, honour, and honesty. What we cannot do by works let faith supply, being fortified with the juice of the generous grape, which makes a little pitiful fellow as great as any accidental forte monarch.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Grimmet lived just on the coast of Carrick, and had a little boat which he used to send out, and so had always plenty of fish. Once when my Lord Cathcart[207] had a great deal of company with him, he sent to Grimmet for some fish. Grimmet sent him some with the following letter:—‘I have sent your lordship some fish, but am sorry I could not get more. The truth is, we have of late been infested with a fish called the dog-fish, from the German Ocean, which consumes our fish by sea as much as some people from that country do consume our substance by land.’”
“Bardarrock[208] was one evening drinking with a company of gentlemen. When it came to his toast he gave Miss De Hood. ‘Miss De Hood,’ said they, ‘we never heard of her.’ ‘Neither,’ said he, ‘did I ever hear of ony o’ yours.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“David Hume used to say that he did not find it an irksome task to him to go through a great many dull books when writing his history. ‘I then read,’ said he, ‘not for pleasure, but in order to find out facts.’ He compared it to a sportsman seeking hares, who does not mind what sort of ground it is that he goes over farther than as he may find hares in it.”
From himself.
“As it was said that French cooks will make admirable dishes of things which others throw away as useless, so the French in general can cook up a ragoût of vanity from the most trivial circumstances; nay, from circumstances which naturally ought to humble them. Instance the soldier running before the King of Prussia, who said, ‘Ma fois, c’est un brave homme, ce Roi de Prusse. Je crois qu’il a servi en France.’ And the Chevalier de Malte, who told me that if Lord George Sackville[209] had advanced at Minden, the French army would have turned, ‘et il aurroit ete le plus illustre jour que la France jamais ont.’”
“Mr. William Auld,[210] the minister of Mauchline, took his Sunday’s supper with me one night when I lived in the Canongate. He had provided himself with a large new wig, with the greatest number of curls in it that I almost ever saw. As he walked up the street in his way home some drunken fellows passed him, and his wig having attracted their attention, one of them called out, ‘There’s a wig like the hundred and nineteenth Psalm,’—a droll comparison of the number of curls in the wig to the number of verses in the psalm, very apropos (apposite) to a minister.”
Mr. Brown, my clerk, who was present.
“Mr. Charles Cochrane liked to have a number of curious mortals about him at Ochiltree. Richmond of Bardarrock was one of them, but had more education and genius than most of them. One day they made a kind of butt of Bardarrock, and were all laughing at him, upon which he very gravely said, ‘It’s a changed world now; the lairds of this place were wont to keep hawks, but this laird has an unco’ taste,—he keeps gowks.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Lord Forglen was a great original. Every Sunday evening he had with him his niece Betty Kinloch,[211] afterwards Lady Milton, Charles Forbes, who went out in the 1715, and David Reid, his clerk. He had what he called the exercise, which was singing a psalm and reading a chapter; and his form was this,—‘Betsy, ye hae a sweet voice; lift ye the psalm;—Charles, ye hae a strong voice, read ye the chapter;—and, David, fire ye the plate.’ This was burnt brandy for them. Accordingly all went on, and whenever the brandy was enough, David blew out the flame, which was a signal; the exercise stopped, and they took their pint.”
Lord Auchinleck.
“When Lord Forglen was dying my grandfather went and visited him, and found him quite cheerful. ‘Come awa, Mr. Boswell,’ said he, ‘and learn to dee (die), man. I’m ga’n awa to see your old friend Cullen[212] and mine. He was a gude honest man! but his walk and yours was nae very steady when you used to come in frae Maggy Johnston’s[213] upo’ the Saturday afternoons.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Old Dr. Clark told my father that he came in to see Lord Forglen when he was dying. ‘Weel, Doctor’ said he, ‘what news?’ ‘I canna say I hear any,’ said the Doctor. ‘Dear man,’ said he, ‘wha do they say’s to succeed me?’ ‘It’s time enough,’ said the Doctor, ‘to speak o’ that, my lord, when ye’re dead.’ ‘Hoot, daft body,’ said Forglen, ‘will ye tell us?’ Upon which the Doctor mentioned such a man. ‘What’s his interest?’ ‘So-and-so.’ ‘Poh, that ’ill no do. Wha else?’ ‘Sic a man.’ ‘What’s his interest?’ ‘So-and-so.’ ‘Poh, that ’ill no do either.’ Then the Doctor mentioned a third man and his interest. ‘I’ll lay my siller on his head against the field.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“Old Dr. Clark told my father the day Lord Forglen died he called at his door, and was met by David Reid, his clerk. ‘How does my lord do?’ ‘I hope he’s weel.’ So the Doctor knew he was dead. David conducted him into a room, and when he looked beneath the table there was (sic) two dozen of wine. In a little in came the rest of the Doctors. So they all sat down, and David gave them some of my lord’s last words, at the same time putting the bottels (sic) about very busily. After they had taken a glass or two they arose to go away. ‘No, gentlemen,’ said David, ‘not so; it was the express will o’ the dead that I should fill you a’ fou, and I maun fulfil the will o’ the dead.’ All the time the tears were running down his cheeks. ‘And indeed,’ said the Doctor, ‘he did fulfil it, for there was na ane o’ us able to bite his ain thumb.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“——[214] was a very religious young woman. She refused Mr. James Dundas,[215] of Arniston, because he was a rake. Some years afterwards she married Mr. Alexander Leslie,[216] brother to the Earl of Leven, who at length was Earl of Leven himself, but had very little when she married him. Upon which Monypenny, of Pitmilly, wrote these lines:—
‘Celia, who cast her eyes to heaven,
Now turns them back and looks to Leven;
Her former coyness she repents,
And thinks of men of lower rents,
Which makes it true what old folks says—
There’s difference of market days.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
It is curious that Pitmilly’s[217] sister was second wife to Mr. Leslie after he came to be earl.
“The old laird of Blair[218] was a man of singular humour. He and the laird of Baidlin were once visiting at Eglintoune. When they were coming away, Blair says, ‘Baidlin, we have been very kindly entertained in this house. I think we’ll leave a crown, the price o’ drink-money.’ ‘I think so too,’ said Baidlin. Blair contrived to let Baidlin go before him, who gave his crown. In a little after Blair came down, and he says to the butler, ‘Heark’ye! did Baidlin gie you the crown I gied him to gie you?’ ‘Yes, an’t please your honour,’ said the butler, and bowed to the ground; so that Blair got all the honour. He was a man, however, who used to brag of his tricks, so Baidlin got notice of this, and was determined to be evens with him. The next time he was at Blair the laird had got a kind of threatening letter from Mr. William Blair,[219] one of the regents of the College of Glasgow, craving him for the annual rent of £500 which the laird of Blair owed him, and a letter of apology from Blair, with entreaties of delay, was lying open on the table. Mr. William Blair was married to a daughter of Orbistoun’s,[220] with whom he got a good deal of money, and both he and she squinted a good deal. When the laird went out of the room Baidlin wrote a postscript to the letter,—
‘Glee’d Will Blair has gotten a wife,
And Orbistoun defraud it;
Their eyes are in continual strife,
Similis simili gaudet.’
“The laird without looking into his letter again seals it and sends it off; upon receiving it, Mr. William Blair was in a most horrid rage, and immediately sent him a charge of horning. The laird got upon his horse, came to Mr. William, and begged to know why he used him so severely. ‘Used!’ said he, ‘after writing to me in that impertinent manner!’ The laird desired to see what he had written; and on being shown the postscript, ‘Oh,’ said he, ‘that has been Baidlin.’”
Lord Auchinleck.
“I have often remarked how strongly people’s faults are painted when once we are exasperated against them. The faults of indifferent people are, as it were, written in invisible ink; we scarcely perceive them, and only know where they exist. But the moment our resentment is kindled against these same people their faults appear black like the characters written in invisible ink when held to the fire.”
“Pope told Lord Marchmont of his intention to have Warburton[221] write notes upon his works. ‘Well said, my lord; it will be a very good trial of the strength of your genius to see how much nonsense you can carry down to posterity when you have Warburton on your back.’”
David Hume, Esq., who had it from Lord Marchmont.
“Warburton was a prodigious flatterer of Lord Mansfield, and consequently a favourite. David Hume was one day speaking violently against him to his lordship, who said, ‘Upon my word, Mr. Hume, he is quite a different man in conversation from what he is in his books.’ ‘Then, my Lord,’ said Hume, ‘he must be the most agreeable man in the world.’”
Mr. David Hume.
“David Hume was one day observing to me that he could not conceive what satisfaction envious people could have by saying that a work of genius such as the ‘Gentle Shepherd’ was not written by its reputed author, but by some other person, as one should imagine that they must be equally hurt by one person’s being admired as by another. I accounted for it in this way: that by ascribing it to another person than its reputed author, they raise doubts whether the praise is due to the one or the other, and so the admiration, instead of being fixed to one, is kept in equilibrio, like Mahomet’s coffin between the two loadstones.”
“The celebrated Mr. Banks[222] before he set sail on his first expedition was in love with a Miss Blosset; when he returned he found himself so enthusiastically fond of roving in search of unknown regions, that he could not think of matrimony. At the same time he had shown such an attachment to the lady that it was matter of great doubt in the world of private news whether he would think himself bound in honour to marry her. General Paoli asked Mr. Richard Owen Cambridge, ‘Pray, do you think Mr. Banks will marry Miss Blosset?’ ‘Oh no, sir,’ said Mr. Cambridge, ‘his thoughts are all beyond Cape Horn.’”
General Paoli.
“Dempster said that Cullen the mimick was to men’s characters like wax to intaglios—to seals cut inwards: That men had particularities, but that we did not perceive them till the impressions of them were shown, reversed, bold, and prominent (or words to that purpose), by Cullen’s mimickry.”
I was present.
“In the spring, 1772, Dempster gave me the following lively representation of Sir William Meredith.[223] ‘He is no longer with us,’ said he, ‘nor has he yet joined the ministry. He is like a wart round which there is a string tied. All circulation is stopped between him and us; and he is ready to be cut off whenever the ministry please.’”
“I was one of Mr. Ross[224] the player’s counsel as a friend. His spouse, the celebrated Fanny Murray, made me a present of some very pretty straw mats for setting dishes on. Lord Auchinleck observed to me, ‘Well, James, she cannot say that then she does not value your advice a straw.’”
“Mr. C. F. told a story in a company in a very confused manner, and then said he told it in confidence, and then begged they would not repeat it. ‘Pray,’ said Dempster, ‘do you think any of us can repeat this story’?”
“A Jew having been brought before Lord Mansfield as Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, applied to be admitted to bail. He was dressed in very rich lace clothes. The counsel against him disputed for a considerable time, alleging that the bail which he offered was not good. My lord was tired and in a hurry, and looking at the Jew’s rich clothes, ‘Why, sir,’ said he, ‘he will burn for the money.’”
Councillor Vansittart, who was present.
“At the exhibition of the Royal Academy at London in 1772 there was a picture of Lord Clive renouncing Meer Jaffier’s legacy in favour of the East India Company, for the support of invalids. Dempster did not perfectly believe the story of this picture. He was dining at Sir George Colebrooke’s,[225] and Lady Colebrooke would needs expatiate upon this picture, and on the subject of it. ‘Madam,’ said Dempster, ‘I take it that affair won’t bear to be canvassed.’”
Mr. Dempster.
“On Monday, the 2nd November, 1772, I dined at Fortune’s in company with Mr. Banks, Dr. Solander,[226] and several more, at an entertainment given by Mr. Hamilton, of Bangour,[227] when the following good things passed:
“Lord Kelly[228] said of a Mr. Wright who was present, ‘He has been in several parts of the world, and I expect to see him in Otaheite before he dies.’ ‘So then, my lord,’ said David Hume, Esq., ‘you expect to be there yourself.’ My lord, in order to retort upon Hume for this catching at his word, set himself in a steady posture, and said, ‘My dear David, if you were to go there you would be obliged to retract all your essays on miracles.’ ‘Oh no, my lord,’ said Hume, ‘everything there is in nature.’ ‘Aye,’ said the Earl, ‘(but) there are different natures.’”
“Mr. Hamilton of Bangour’s lady, was that morning delivered of a son, who was not yet baptized. Lord Kelly proposed his health; but addressing himself to Principal Robertson, said, ‘Doctor, this is not a safe toast for you, for he’s not a Christian.’ ‘My lord,’ said the Principal, ‘there are good hopes.’ Hume laughed. Said the Earl, ‘David, if there are hopes, I am afraid it will be worse for you.’”
“Somebody observed that Lord Elibank[229] was constantly reading Lucretius; another asked, ‘Has he given up Tacitus?’ Said Lord Kelly, ‘It’s long since he gave up Tacitus; for he never can hold his tongue a minute, and he has taken to Lucretius because he feels himself grown so old that he would make but a poor figure with Lucretia.’ At saying this the earl laughed, as if in scorn, and cried, ‘Such nonsense!’”
“Our frame and temper of mind depends much on the state of our bodies. The human body is often called a machine, and a wonderful machine it is. The blood is like quicksilver, the veins like feathers, the nerves like springs. The soul sits in the machine. As one who in a chaise when driving hard cannot hear or give attention, I have been conscious of the corporeal machine running on with such rapidity that I felt to apply seriously to anything was in vain for me while that continued.”
“Mr. Crosbie,[230] the advocate, when he once took up an idea retained it most obstinately, even after there was convincing evidence against it. On occasion of the great cause between Nabob Fullerton[231] and Orangefield,[232] where he and I were on opposite sides, he persisted in thinking Fullerton in the right, when every one else was clear against him. I said Crosbie’s head was like a Christmas-box with a slit in the top of it. If once a thing has got into it, you cannot get it out again but by breaking the box. ‘We must break your head, Crosbie,’ said I.”
“It’s a good thing for Scotland that we can appeal to the House of Lords. I look upon that court, the House of Lords, as a great rolling stone, which by going over a cause effectually smooths it at once, when our fifteen lords, who have been breaking the clods with their mallets for a long time, may have left some parts rough; or sometimes may have found large masses which they have not been able to break at all. The rolling stone can never do harm. If the cause is smooth, it will make it more firmly so; if rough in whole or in part, will smooth it.”
“Banks and Solander were telling of a monstrous crater which they had found in Iceland, which threw up prodigious quantities of hot water to an amazing height. The story, I believe, was true. But I had my joke on them as travellers; I said they had found a kettle to boil Pontopidan the Bishop of Berghen’s wonderful fish.”
“I have observed that the Lords of Justiciary in Scotland, though they proceed with strong common sense and in general with material justice, yet have not studied criminal law as a science, though it is a very extensive, important, and nice one. Being lords of session, their attention is chiefly taken up with civil affairs, and they take criminal matters only by the bye. They are like barber-surgeons, who shave—and bleed—upon occasions.”
“There are a variety of little circumstances in life, which, like pins in a lady’s dress, are necessary for keeping it together, and giving it neatness and elegance.”
“A man of fame and acknowledged judgment as an author giving his opinion to a bookseller in favour of a literary work, the copy of which is offered for sale, when he does not sincerely think as he says, is a piece of real dishonesty, quite different from those commendations which a good-natured though not strictly honest flattery bestows. It is like a goldsmith, to whom suspicious metal is referred, certifying that it is gold when he knows it to be brass or a bad mixture.”
“Dr. Johnson had a very high opinion of Edmund Burke. He said, ‘That fellow calls forth all my powers;’ and once, when he was out of spirits and rather dejected, he said, ‘Were I to see Burke now ’twould kill me.’”
Mr. Langton.[233]
“Mr. Johnson used to laugh at a passage in Carte’s ‘Life[234] of the Duke of Ormond,’ where he gravely observes ‘that he was always in full dress when he went to court; too many being in the practice of going thither with double lapells.’”
Mr. Langton.
“——, who translated ‘Ariosto,’ had a dispute with Tom Wharton[235] as to some passages of it. —— knew the subject perfectly, but could not express himself. Wharton knew it very superficially, but wrote with ease and vivacity. Johnson said ‘the one had ball without powder, and the other powder without ball.’”
“Johnson had a sovereign contempt for Wilkes and his party, whom he looked upon as a mere rabble. ‘Sir,’ said he, ‘had Wilkes’s mob prevailed against Government, this nation had died of phthiriasis.’ Mr. Langton told me this. The expression, Morbus pediculosus, as being better known, would strike more. Lousy disease may be put in a parenthesis.”
“Mr. Ilay Campbell[236] spoke with admirable good sense and ingenuity, but had a very weak voice and a diminutive appearance and manner. I said his pleading was like Giardini’s playing on a child’s fiddle.”
“The extracts of a book given in the review often please us much more than the book itself does. The extracts are embellished and illustrated with criticism. It is like collops well-seasoned and served up with a good sauce, which are better eating than the sirloin or rump from whence they are cut. (Or, thus one eats with greater relish slices or collops well seasoned and served up with a good sauce, than one does the sirloin or rump from whence they are cut).”
“I said the Court of Session was much more quiet and agreeable when President Dundas[237] was absent. ‘When he is there,’ said I, ‘you feel yourself as in a bleachfield with a large dog in it. He is chained and does not bite you. But he barks wowf, wowf, and makes you start; your nerves are hurt by him.’”
“Mr. Alexander Murray,[238] said that the President Dundas upon the bench was like Lord Kelly playing in a concert—very quick, loud, and rumbling. Nothing can be a more lively representation of his manner than this, when you harangue a little with the president’s blustering tone and bounces of voice at intervals—‘I cannot agree to give you this cause against the Duke of Gordon, sitting here as judge on great revolution principles,’ &c.”
“I said that Mr. Charles Hay[239] and I, who studied Scotch law together, used to go to Mr. McLaurin,[240] when we found any difficulty, as to a mill to get it ground. ‘Yes,’ said Crosbie, ‘and he made you twenty difficulties out of one.’ ‘The observation,’ said I, ‘is just and witty. It reminds me of the fable of the lady, who when she was not pleased with her looks dashed the mirror in pieces, and so saw a multitude of ugly faces instead of one.’”
“26th June, 1774.—At a Sunday’s supper at Dr. Webster’s, when I was finding fault with a lady for going to visit a relation who had married a low man, the Doctor said that treating such people with mere civility was the best way to get the better of them. I answered, ‘I don’t want to get the better of them, I want to get rid of them: you may get the better of a sow by going into the mire and boxing it; but who would do it?’ My wife, who wanted to support Dr. Webster, though she had not much attended to the dispute, said something which was of pretty much the same import with my remarks. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘this is good enough. She thinks she is opposing me, and yet she agrees with me; she thinks she is riding a race with me and getting the better, and all the time she is behind me.’”
“My father told me that when he got his gown upon the resignation of the worthy Lord Dun,[241] he went and waited upon him, and said, ‘My lord, as I am to be your lordship’s unworthy successor I am come to ask your blessing.’ ‘Sir,’ said Lord Dun, ‘I held that office too long, for I was come to be but half a judge. Nay, what do I say? I was come to be worse, for I was able to give corporal presence but one-half of the year, and when I was present I could not have given that attention which every man ought to have who decides on the property of others. But to tell you the truth, I held my office from an apprehension that they might put in a man even worse than half a judge. However, sir, since you are to be my successor,’—(he then paid my father some genteel compliments); he added, ‘I have no title to give a blessing, but if my prayers can be of any service to you, while I live they shall never be wanting.’”
“29th June, 1774.—I said the business of the Court of Session went on as fast without the President[242] as with him, though with less noise, when he was absent the court was a plain girr (hoop), which ran smoothly and quietly; when he was there, it was a girr with jinglers.’”
“When Charles Townshend[243] read some of Lord Kames’[244] ‘Elements of Criticism,’ he said, ‘This is the work of a dull man grown whimsical,’—a most characteristical account of Lord Kames as a writer.”
Mr. George Wallace.[245]
“Mr. Andrew Balfour[246] said of Lord Kames, ‘He has the obstinacy of a mule and the levity of a harlequin.’”
Mr. Charles Hay.
“Mr. Alexander Lockhart, Dean of the Faculty of Advocates, very readily shed tears when he pleased, whether from feeling or from a weakness in his eyes was disputed. He was also very fond of getting his fees. I applied to him a part of a fine passage in Shakspere,—
‘He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as the day.’”
“When Andrew Stuart declared himself a candidate as member of Parliament for Lanarkshire after being stigmatised so severely by Thurlow and Lord Camden for his conduct in the Douglas cause, Sir John Douglas, who was very keen in the great cause, and had admirable extravagant sallies, said, ‘What think you of this fellow? He has brass indeed! why, you may make ten dozen of tea-kettles out of his forehead.’”
I was present.
“I always wished to go to the English bar. When I found I could labour, I said it was pity to dig in a lead mine when I could get to a gold one.”
“In 1774 there came on before the Court of Session a cause at the instance of a black[247] for having it declared that he was free. I was one of the counsel. We took no fees; and I said I knew one thing, that he was not a Guinea black.”
“General Scott[248] was a man of wonderful good luck. He married Lady Mary Hay, a very fine woman. She ran off with Captain Sutherland, but was catched at Barnet, and the General got a divorce with the utmost ease. He then married Miss Peggy Dundas, who proved an admirable wife. Everything turned out well for him. Sandie Murray[249] said he was like a cat, throw him as you please he always falls on his feet. Nairne,[250] on hearing this, quoted the motto of the Isle of Man,—