Boswellian

The serious faced fellow above is one James Boswell, born this day 1740, in Edinburgh, Scotland. Born the eldest son of a judge, Boswell had a rough childhood. It seems he had inherited some "nervous illness" that made his life unhappy at the school he was sent to as a child. A bit of a wild child, Boswell ran away at the age of nineteen after deciding to convert to Catholicism, and spending three months living the high life in London. His father fetched him home, and made him sign away most of his inheritance for an allowance of pound 100 per year. He passed his first oral exam to become a lawyer in 1762 (lucky him), and was allowed to return to London for a time. It was during this time that he wrote his London journals which raised him to hero status in my eyes. These journals of his time in London make a womanizer proud (not that I am a womanizer). This is an example of the life he led while out in London Town; Thus, in 1767, in a letter to W.J.Temple, he wrote, "I got myself quite intoxicated, went to a Bawdy-house and past a whole night in the arms of a Whore. She indeed was a fine strong spirited Girl, a Whore worthy of Boswell if Boswell must have a whore." Sounds like a wild ride, and one that he went on frequently, and with abandon. All these whores worthy of Boswell, managed to give him the clap no less than seventeen times in his life! Despite his travel journals being relatively successful, Boswell was an unsuccessful advocate. He never was happy being the dutiful lawyer son in Edinburgh, and really wanted to be a man of letter in London. This was the major tragedy of his life, trapped in a marriage with a family, while he really wanted to be the libertine gad about town, footloose, and fancy free. In some respects Boswell typifies the struggle all men face, the struggle another hero of a later day (one W. Somerset Maugham) face, the call of duty, and the idea to "do the right thing," settle down, have kids, and be a productive member of society on the one hand, and on the other the gambling, not tied down, bounder that has no responsibility other than to sort out where the next drink is coming from, and what to bet on next. Boswell tried to do both, and in someways he succeeded in both, but he was miserable a great deal of the time. By the late 1770's he had descended further into alcoholism, and gambling addiction, ( a lawyer that drinks too much, and gambles too much, surprise, surprise), and was on his merry way to a fairly early grave at the age of 54. But, for writing that famous biography The Life of Samuel Johnson, and for those lovely London Journals that make for very interesting reading, James Boswell (October 29th,1740- May 19th, 1795, at the age of 54), you are my hero of the day.