However absurd the behaviour of Boswell in the _rôle_ of a man of letters may seem to us when we understand the feelings which prompted it, it is doubtful whether it would have been sufficient alone to give him the reputation of a fool. Extravagance of this kind is not very commonly condemned if it is not seen to be insincere, and though it is easy enough for us who are in possession of all the records of his life to see the imposture, it must have been more difficult for those who knew Boswell to have a real interest in literature, and to be already a man of letters, to understand that he was posing as the literary man. His acquaintance would more readily have called him a fool on account of his vanity. We have all at bottom in some degree the love of self, and vanity is the expression we apply to it when it causes us in some way to lose our sense of proportion, to see things, as it were, in a false perspective. Self-love becomes vanity when we love ourselves undeservedly, or when it makes necessary to us the approbation of others. Usually when it has one effect it has also the other. But Boswell was vain, not, like many people, of qualities which he did not possess, or which, if he did possess them, were no cause for self-congratulation, but because he had an uncontrollable desire that everyone else should know about his success and share his wonder and admiration. It was not so much that he exaggerated his importance, though he did that sometimes, as that he exaggerated the importance to other people of his importance. He not only desired their applause as well as his own, but assumed, with his curious ignorance of the mind of others in matters which concerned himself, that what interested him would naturally interest them. It was vanity of this kind which, more than anything else, made a fool of Boswell. The insatiable desire to be conspicuous which made him as a young man publish what he must have known to be worthless, appear at the Shakespeare Jubilee as Corsican Boswell, and insert notices of his movements in the papers,[33] did not diminish as one might expect with maturity, but rather grew with his years. There is nothing which he wrote so egotistical and vain as some passages in those most serious documents which he addressed to the 'People of Scotland upon the State of the Nation' and to which were pinned his hopes of political honour. In the letter of 1783 he says of himself: 'For my own part, I should claim no credit, did I not flatter myself that I practise what I now presume to recommend. I have mentioned former circumstances, perhaps of too much egotism, to show that I am no time server; and at this moment, friends to whom I am attached by affection, gratitude, and interest, are zealous for the measure which I deem so alarming. Let me add that a dismission of the Portland administration will probably disappoint an object which I have most ardently at heart.