Early in the afternoon Mr. Boswell observed that we were at no
great distance from the house of lord Monboddo. The magnetism of
his conversation easily drew us out of our way, and the
entertainment which we received would have been a sufficient
recompense for a much greater deviation.
The roads beyond Edinburgh, as they are less frequented, must be
expected to grow gradually rougher; but they were hitherto by no
means incommodious. We travelled on with the gentle pace of a
Scotch driver, who having no rivals in expedition, neither gives
himself nor his horses unnecessary trouble. We did not affect the
impatience we did not feel, but were satisfied with the company of
each other as well riding in the chaise, as sitting at an inn. The
night and the day are equally solitary and equally safe; for where
there are so few travellers, why should there be robbers.
ABERDEEN
We came somewhat late to Aberdeen, and found the inn so full, that
we had some difficulty in obtaining admission, till Mr. Boswell
made himself known: His name overpowered all objection, and we
found a very good house and civil treatment.
I received the next day a very kind letter from Sir Alexander
Gordon, whom I had formerly known in London, and after a cessation
of all intercourse for near twenty years met here professor of
physic in the King's College. Such unexpected renewals of
acquaintance may be numbered among the most pleasing incidents of
life.
The knowledge of one professor soon procured me the notice of the
rest, and I did not want any token of regard, being conducted
wherever there was any thing which I desired to see, and
entertained at once with the novelty of the place, and the kindness
of communication.
To write of the cities of our own island with the solemnity of
geographical description, as if we had been cast upon a newly
discovered coast, has the appearance of very frivolous ostentation;
yet as Scotland is little known to the greater part of those who
may read these observations, it is not superfluous to relate, that
under the name of Aberdeen are comprised two towns standing about a
mile distant from each other, but governed, I think, by the same
magistrates.
Old Aberdeen is the ancient episcopal city, in which are still to
be seen the remains of the cathedral. It has the appearance of a
town in decay, having been situated in times when commerce was yet
unstudied, with very little attention to the commodities of the
harbour.
New Aberdeen has all the bustle of prosperous trade, and all the
shew of increasing opulence. It is built by the water-side. The
houses are large and lofty, and the streets spacious and clean.
They build almost wholly with the granite used in the new pavement
of the streets of London, which is well known not to want hardness,
yet they shape it easily. It is beautiful and must be very
lasting.
What particular parts of commerce are chiefly exercised by the
merchants of Aberdeen, I have not inquired. The manufacture which
forces itself upon a stranger's eye is that of knit-stockings, on
which the women of the lower class are visibly employed.
In each of these towns there is a college, or in stricter language,
an university; for in both there are professors of the same parts
of learning, and the colleges hold their sessions and confer
degrees separately, with total independence of one on the other.
In old Aberdeen stands the King's College, of which the first
president was Hector Boece, or Boethius, who may be justly
reverenced as one of the revivers of elegant learning. When he
studied at Paris, he was acquainted with Erasmus, who afterwards
gave him a public testimony of his esteem, by inscribing to him a
catalogue of his works. The stile of Boethius, though, perhaps,
not always rigorously pure, is formed with great diligence upon
ancient models, and wholly uninfected with monastic barbarity. His
history is written with elegance and vigour, but his fabulousness
and credulity are justly blamed. His fabulousness, if he was the
author of the fictions, is a fault for which no apology can be
made; but his credulity may be excused in an age, when all men were
credulous. Learning was then rising on the world; but ages so long
accustomed to darkness, were too much dazzled with its light to see
any thing distinctly. The first race of scholars, in the fifteenth
century, and some time after, were, for the most part, learning to
speak, rather than to think, and were therefore more studious of
elegance than of truth. The contemporaries of Boethius thought it
sufficient to know what the ancients had delivered. The
examination of tenets and of facts was reserved for another
generation.
Boethius, as president of the university, enjoyed a revenue of
forty Scottish marks, about two pounds four shillings and sixpence
of sterling money. In the present age of trade and taxes, it is
difficult even for the imagination so to raise the value of money,
or so to diminish the demands of life, as to suppose four and forty
shillings a year, an honourable stipend; yet it was probably equal,
not only to the needs, but to the rank of Boethius. The wealth of
England was undoubtedly to that of Scotland more than five to one,
and it is known that Henry the eighth, among whose faults avarice
was never reckoned, granted to Roger Ascham, as a reward of his
learning, a pension of ten pounds a year.
The other, called the Marischal College, is in the new town. The
hall is large and well lighted. One of its ornaments is the
picture of Arthur Johnston, who was principal of the college, and
who holds among the Latin poets of Scotland the next place to the
elegant Buchanan.
