To His Majestie, anent Mr Thomas Craigis Workis.

Pleis zour Sacred Majestie,

of

THE assuirance gevin to ws, zour Majesteis good pleasour and will to have theworkis of umquhill Mr Thomas Craig, (zit unpublished,) to be perused and sene, hes gevin ws the hardiement now, efter exact consideratioun had be ws of the same, to commend thame to zour Majesteis most gratious patronage, quhilk we the more bauldlie have undertaiken to do, in regard we find the same to conteine most excellent mater, eloquentlie penned be the author, who most learnedlie has not onlie expressed himselff in his bookis de feudis, bot also hes left honnour able monumentis in his poemes written in honour of zour Majesteis selff, zour royall progenitouris, zour Majesteis most excellent quene, and the prince, his grace, zour heynes sone, all of thame selffis worthy to be imparted to the aig present and posteritie, and not so to be schaddowed up in perisching scrollis. The publisching quherof, can not bot beget honnourable credite to this zour Majesties kingdome, and proffitable good to the subjects of the same. We think it nocht expedient to impesche zour sacred earis in declaring with quhat fervent zeale and devotioun to zour heynes service and publict good the author wes consumed quhill he leved, as most notour to zour Majesties selff and whole cuntrey; the reporte quherof we remit to the richt honourable and alwyse learned zour Majesties chancellor of this kingdome, of whome zour Majestie may treulie try the worthy stuff of

these workis, togidder with our fervent desyre and requeist to zour Majestie, to mak suche rare monumentis go abroad to the world, quhilkis justlie craves to receave their dew luster and lyf frome zour Majesties self, whose princelie virtewis and royall dispositioun towardis all learning may onlie ansuerablie ryse up these workis, and restore thame to thair deserved and desyred lycht. We are out of all doubt to find pardoun of zour Majestie, for the offering of these our lyke commendable endevoris to zour heynes protectioun, knowing zour Majestie to be a peerles patrone of all learned eruditioun, in quhom God hes placed suche_rare princelie qualities of force to mak the world wonder and admire thame, and to ws zour Majesties subjectis so powerfull, that in most ardent zeale to the Almichtie, we pray for the happie progres and perpetuitie of the same, in zour Majesties long and happie lenght and glorious reigne, and zour heynes royall progenie. In the quhilk prayer, we maist humblie tak our leive. Sic subscribitur. Zour Majesties most humble and obedient subjectis and servitouris, Jo. Prestoun Blyntyre, Sr T. Hammiltoun, S A. Hay Kilsyth, clericus registri Edzell, Sr A. Hammiltoun, J. Hay, Robert Melvill.

N.B.-Besides this letter from the Privy Council to the King, in favour of his Works, there was a Recommendation from the Estates to his Majestie of wmquhyle Mr Thomas Craige, his works." "Acts of the Parliaments of Scotland." Vol. IV., p. 623. Both are omitted by Mr Tytler.

my temper; and, irritated by the teasing intruder, now settled before me, I struck at the insect, missed it, but peeled my knuckles on the hinge of my desk: yet the reader, if he has patience to peruse the auto-biography which I am about to lay before him, will find that I have borne far greater evils, if not with equanimity, at least without betraying the same impatience and irrascibility. Although this may be thought a digression, it is intended as illustrative of the assertion, that no man is great or wise at all times; and that about all of us there are some things which it were wise to keep concealed, or, in the language of Burns,

7

Aye keep something to oursel's, We scarcely tell to ony. From these considerations, I maintain, that it is seldom for the honour of a character, who is brought before the public, that his biographer should have been too familiar with him of whom he writes; above all things, it is to be desiderated, that he should not have been his doting and enthusiastic admirer, blind to the foibles and frailties which "human flesh is heir to." And the greater the veneration entertained for the character, and the nearerit approaches to idolatry, by so much the more is the danger of injudicious disclosures increased. I would not have errors, or lapses, which may serve as beacons to the public, concealed. There is no great risk of the most devoted admirer attempting to whitewash them, that they may appear as virtues. The danger is, either that the biographer, considering the character of whom he writes as an oracle, retails all his thoughtless and unpremeditated sallies as deliberate cogitations and words of wisdom, or, if they will not bear that appellation, as being at least excusable, on account of him by whom they were uttered. In this case, the biographer resembles a fond mother prating about her child in a company of strangers; when, although she may tickle some itching ears, and gratify those who wish to see her or her bantling made ridiculous, she is rashly exposing both herself, and the object of her idolatry, to the pity or contempt of her auditors. How remarkably has

this been exemplified in the case of the author last quoted! How many of his licentious extemporaneous effusions have been preserved and recorded by blind admirers! They were the ideas of the moment, elicited by convivial hilarity,-unpremeditated sallies, prompted by the impulse of youthful passions and strong feelings, aided by the intoxication of flattery and potent liquor. The preservation of these has caused a blush on the cheek of those who respect his talents, and know what excuses and allowances ought to be made for a frail mortal; while it has afforded his detractors and enemies a fair pretence for insulting his memory, and talking of him with contempt: they can see and know his failings, but they are unacquainted with the strength of his temptations, or how much may have been resisted. When we are informed that Pope was an epicure, Gray a finical spruce fop, and Thomson and Johnson gluttons, in spite of ourselves, it in some de gree lessens our respect for their characters; and although good-nature may philosophically smile at the

Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise, yet bigotry, envy, and narrowminded or malignant dispositions, will exult over these frailties with indecent triumph. But no public character has suffered more severely from the blind idolatry of his biographer than Johnson. The gossipping chit-chat and untiring garrulity of Boswell, has exposed the great man, in his most unguarded moments; forgetting that there are attitudes and positions in which we may allow ourselves to appear before a very intimate friend, at the moment when restraint is banished, and the mind unbent, but which a sense of decorum would paint as an indecent exposure, should we be thus seen by the public. A modest and delicate lady would not admit even a favoured lover into the privacies of her dressing-room, (at least in Britain ;) and would be ready to expire with shame and vexation, could she believe that her chamber-maid, after death, would expose her remains in their original nudity. Yet all this has Boswell done; and the public have gazed on the hapless victim;

some with a sigh of pity, many with wondering curiosity, and not a few with gloating and delighted eye; gazing on every scar, excrescence, or deformity, which was injudiciously laid bare before them; and ever after find him, in his own language, Perversely grave, and positively wrong.

It is to prevent the possibility of having such an injudicious friend for my historian that I have resolved upon being my own biographer; although I believe there is no great risk of my memory being injured in that manner, for I have had few friends; and of those whom I expect to heave a sigh over my dust, there is not one who makes the slightest pretensions to authorship. It is, indeed, a delicate task which I am about to undertake, and I have perhaps resolved too rashly; but I scorn to retract; for I have been through life a reckless mortal, never calculating probabilities, and often overlooking most obvious consequences; enjoying the present, and careless of the future. The degree of credit to be given to my narrative shall be left to the reader's own discretion; at the same time, I can assure him, that I have been too much of a fool ever to wear the mask of wisdom: I did sometimes, at the entreaty of my friends, try to slip it on ; but, like a new shoe, it was always uneasy; sometimes dimming the eye-sight, at others pinching my nose, or stifling my breath; so that, lifting it for a momentary relief, I do not recollect one occasion on which I escaped detection. From my earliest years, I may say from my cradle, till my star of life was descending from its meridian altitude, I preferred fun to philosophy, and would rather have lost a friend than a good joke. I have been angry with myself, and many a man and woman besides; but I never indulged hatred against any one, and knew envy only by description. I was not the slave, but the keen combatant of my passions, with which I have had innumerable skirmishes, and not a few pitched battles, in most of which I confess being defeated. I was almost the child of circumstances, as much as the shepherd's dog, that leaves the sheep to follow a hare, and again turns

from the chase, to pursue the first wild-fowl that springs up before him. People may talk of the happy days and guileless innocence of childhood, when the path is always strewed with flowers, perpetual sunshine, and halcyon seas, smiling above and around them; when the sun never went down on their wrath, and they never rose but with a light heart. I am much inclined to doubt the truth of these descriptions; and suspect they often proceed, not so much from a recollection of former happiness, as a peevish fretfulness under present cares. At any rate, I maintain that my spring of life was like what Nature generally makes that season,— changing April sky, clouds, and sunshine, rain and fair weather, alternately. I had many friends, and, I believe, not few enemies; my friendships were warm, but not permanent; and my feuds were also violent, but of equally short duration. But let me proceed methodically; and, as I intend to speak without disguise of myself, I shall have no reserve concerning others. My chequered life may not be without its use to the world, offering some not unimportant lessons, to both parents and children; but bearing in mind, that Men must be taught, as if we taught them not,

I shall very seldom harass the reader with dry moralizings, but leave him to draw his own conclusions.

Although there is no chance that seven cities will contend for the honour of having given me birth, as the Greeks did for Homer, I shall leave my paternal spot, or, as D'Israeli expressively terms it, my fatherland involved in obscurity, and dark as the fogs that sometimes hovered over my native valley in a winter morning. This may perhaps raise me in the reader's estimation; for every body knows, that mist serves the same purpose as a magnifying glass, representing pygmies as Patagonians, and cottages as enchanted castles. The names of my parents I shall also leave to the reader's conjecture; it being impossible that they can ever be discovered from mine, for I have long ago renounced my patronymick; it was on that evening on which my father gave me