proceed by Glasgow to Auchinleck, repose there a competent time, and then return to Edinburgh, from whence the Rambler will depart for old England again, as soon as he finds it convenient.  Hitherto we have had a very prosperous expedition.  I flatter myself, servetur ad imum, qualis ab incepto processerit[931].  He is in excellent spirits, and I have a rich journal of his conversation.  Look back, Davy[932], to Litchfield,—­run up through the time that has elapsed since you first knew Mr. Johnson,—­and enjoy with me his present extraordinary Tour.  I could not resist the impulse of writing to you from this place.  The situation of the old castle corresponds exactly to Shakspeare’s description.  While we were there to-day[933], it happened oddly, that a raven perched upon one of the chimney-tops, and croaked.  Then I in my turn repeated—­

     “The raven himself is hoarse,
      That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan,
      Under my battlements.”

’I wish you had been with us.  Think what enthusiastick happiness I shall have to see Mr. Samuel Johnson walking among the romantick rocks and woods of my ancestors at Auchinleck[934]!  Write to me at Edinburgh.  You owe me his verses on great George and tuneful Cibber, and the bad verses which led him to make his fine ones on Philips the musician[935].  Keep your promise, and let me have them.  I offer my very best compliments to Mrs. Garrick, and ever am,

     ’Your warm admirer and friend,

     ‘JAMES BOSWELL.’

‘To David Garrick, Esq., London.’

His answer was as follows:—­

     ’Hampton, September 14, 1773.

’DEAR SIR,

’You stole away from London, and left us all in the lurch; for we expected you one night at the club, and knew nothing of your departure.  Had I payed you what I owed you, for the book you bought for me, I should only have grieved for the loss of your company, and slept with a quiet conscience; but, wounded as it is, it must remain so till I see you again, though I am sure our good friend Mr. Johnson will discharge the debt for me, if you will let him.  Your account of your journey to Fores, the raven, old castle, &c., &c., made me half mad.  Are you not rather too late in the year for fine weather, which is the life and soul of seeing places?  I hope your pleasure will continue qualis ab incepto, &c.

’Your friend[936] ------ threatens me much.  I only wish that he would
put his threats in execution, and, if he prints his play, I will forgive
him.  I remember he complained to you, that his bookseller called for the
money for some copies of his ------, which I subscribed for, and that I
desired him to call again.  The truth is, that my wife was not at
home[937], and that for weeks together I have not ten shillings in my
pocket.—­However, had it been otherwise, it was not so great a crime to
draw his poetical vengeance upon me.  I despise all that he can do, and
am glad that I can so easily get rid of him and his ingratitude.  I am
hardened both to abuse and ingratitude.

’You, I am sure, will no more recommend your poetasters to my civility and good offices.