uzzled to discover: but I
solemnly and merrily declare, that I never yet saw anybody so
excessively enamoured of London. The effects of this violent passion are
deeply impressed upon every feature in his countenance, his nose not
excepted, which is absolutely most surprising. His body is tossed and
shaken like one afflicted with the hot fit of an ague, or the severest
paroxysms of convulsion. Then as to his mind, it is altogether
distempered. He is perpetually declaiming on the magnificence, the
liberty, and the pleasure, which reigns in the imperial British
metropolis. He swears, that in that glorious place alone we can enjoy
life. He says, there is no breathing beyond St. James's; and he affirms,
that the air of that delicious spot is celestial. He says, there is no
wit except at the Bedford; no military genius but at George's; no wine
but at the Star and Garter; no turbot except at the Tilt-Yard. He
asserts, that there are no clothes made beyond the liberties of
Westminster; and he firmly holds Cheapside to be the sole mart of
stockings. It would fill up two-thirds of a quarto volume to enumerate
the various extravagant exclamations into which he breaks out. He
declares that for his own part, he will never go to church except to St.
Paul's, nor to a lady's private lodgings, except in the neighbourhood of
Soho-square.

I beg it of you, my friend, be very attentive to him; observe his
appearance and behaviour with the greatest accuracy, so that between us
we may be able to have a pretty just notion of this wonderful affair,
and may faithfully draw up his case to be read before the Royal Society,
and transmitted to posterity in these curious annals the Philosophical
Transactions.

I have sent you the second volume, which Donaldson begs leave to present
you with, in consideration of your being one of those who bear the brunt
of the day. He has also done me the same honour. No plain shop copy; no,
no, elegantly bound and gilt.

Adieu, yours sincerely,

JAMES BOSWELL.

* * * * *

LETTER XXII.

Morpeth, March 2, 1762.

Oh, BOSWELL! if you found yourself in the middle of the Firth of Forth,
and the sea fast up-springing through every leak, after the skipper had
remonstrated, in the most warm manner, against proceeding to cross the
water; or if, like me, you found yourself in the midst of a sentence,
without knowing how to end it, you could not feel more pain than I do at
this instan