An isolated house which formerly stood in Webster’s Close,[12] a little
way down the Castle-hill, was the residence of the Rev. Dr Webster,
a man eminent in his day on many accounts—a leading evangelical
clergyman in Edinburgh, a statist and calculator of extraordinary
talent, and a distinguished figure in festive scenes. The first
population returns of Scotland were obtained by him in 1755; and he was
the author of that fund for the widows of the clergy of the Established
Church which has proved so great a blessing to many, and still exists
in a flourishing state.[13] He was also deep in the consultations of
the magistrates regarding the New Town.
It is not easy to reconcile the two leading characteristics of this
divine—his being the pastor of a flock of noted sternness, called,
from the church in which they assembled, the _Tolbooth Whigs_; and his
at the same time entering heartily and freely into the convivialities
of the more mirthful portion of society. Perhaps he illustrated the
maxim that one man may steal horses with impunity, &c.; for it is
related that, going home early one morning with strong symptoms of
over-indulgence upon him, and being asked by a friend who met him
‘what the Tolbooth Whigs would say if they were to see him at this
moment,’ he instantly replied: ‘They would not believe their own eyes.’
Sometimes he did fall on such occasions under plebeian observation, but
the usual remark was: ‘Ah, there’s Dr Webster, honest man, going hame,
nae doubt, frae some puir afflicted soul he has been visiting. Never
does he tire o’ well-doing!’ And so forth.
The history of Dr Webster’s marriage is romantic. When a young and
unknown man, he was employed by a friend to act as go-between,
or, as it is termed in Scotland, black-fit, or black-foot, in a
correspondence which he was carrying on with a young lady of great
beauty and accomplishment. Webster had not acted long in that
character, till the young lady, who had never entertained any affection
for his constituent, fell deeply in love with himself. Her birth and
expectations were better than his; and however much he might have been
disposed to address her on his own behalf, he never could have thought
of such a thing so long as there was such a difference between their
circumstances. The lady saw his difficulty, and resolved to overcome
it, and that in the frankest manner. At one of these interviews,
when he was exerting all his eloquence in favour of his friend, she
plainly told him that he would probably come better speed if he were
to speak for himself. He took the hint, and, in a word, was soon
after married to her. He wrote upon the occasion an amorous lyric,
which exhibits in warm colours the gratitude of a humble lover for
the favour of a mistress of superior station, and which is perhaps
as excellent altogether in its way as the finest compositions of
the kind produced in either ancient or modern times. There is one
particularly impassioned verse, in which, after describing a process of
the imagination by which, in gazing upon her, he comes to think her a
creature of more than mortal nature, he says that at length, unable to
contain, he clasps her to his bosom, and—
‘Kissing her lips, she turns woman again!’