Produced by Steve Harris, Charles Franks and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team.
by
James Boswell
My Dear Sir,
In every narrative, whether historical or biographical, authenticityis of the utmost consequence. Of this I have ever been so firmlypersuaded, that I inscribed a former work to that person who was thebest judge of its truth. I need not tell you I mean General Paoli;who, after his great, though unsuccessful, efforts to preserve theliberties of his country, has found an honourable asylum in Britain,where he has now lived many years the object of Royal regard andprivate respect; and whom I cannot name without expressing my verygrateful sense of the uniform kindness which he has been pleased toshew me.
The friends of Doctor Johnson can best judge, from internal evidence,whether the numerous conversations which form the most valuable partof the ensuing pages, are correctly related. To them, therefore I wishto appeal, for the accuracy of the portrait here exhibited to theworld.
As one of those who were intimately acquainted with him, you have atide to this address. You have obligingly taken the trouble to perusethe original manuscript of this tour, and can vouch for the strictfidelity of the present publication. Your literary alliance with ourmuch lamented friend, in consequence of having undertaken to renderone of his labours more complete, by your edition of Shakespeare, awork which I am confident will not disappoint the expectations of thepublick, gives you another claim. But I have a still more powerfulinducement to prefix your name to this volume, as it gives me anopportunity of letting the world know that I enjoy the honour andhappiness of your friendship; and of thus publickly testifying thesincere regard with which I am.
My dear Sir,
Your very faithful and obedient servant,
James Boswell.
London, 20 September 1785.
"He was of an admirable pregnancy of wit, and that pregnancy muchimproved by continual study from his childhood; by which he had gottensuch a promptness in expressing his mind, that his extemporal speecheswere little inferior to his premeditated writings. Many, no doubt, hadread as much and perhaps more than he; but scarce ever any concoctedhis reading into judgement as he did."—Baker's Chronicle
Dr Johnson had for many years given me hopes that we should gotogether, and visit the Hebrides. Martin's Account of those islandshad impressed us with a notion that we might there contemplate asystem of life almost totally different from what we had beenaccustomed to see; and, to find simplicity and wildness, and all thecircumstances of remote time or place, so near to our native greatisland, was an object within the reach of reasonable curiosity. DrJohnson has said in his Journey, 'that he scarcely remembered how thewish to visit the Hebrides was excited'; but he told me, in summer,1763, that his father put Martin's Account into his hands when he wasvery young, and that he was much pleased with it. We reckoned therewould be some inconveniencies and hardships, and perhaps a littledanger; but these we were persuaded were magnified in the imaginationof every body. When I was at Ferney, in 1764, I mentioned our designto Voltaire. He looked at me, as if I had talked of going to the NorthPole, and said, 'You do not insist on my accompanying you?' 'No, s