your £200, as you may depend upon its being repaid. My rent-roll
is above £1,600; but deducting annuities, interest of debts, and
expenses absolutely necessary at Auchinleck, I have but about £850
to spend. I reckon my five children at £500 a year. You see what
remains for myself.”... “I am this year to make one trial of the
Lord Chancellor. In short, I cast about everywhere. I do not see the
smallest opening in Westminster Hall; but I like the scene, though I
have attended only one day this last term, being eager to get my ‘Life
of Johnson’ finished. And the delusion that practice may come at any
time (which is certainly true) still possesses me.” He adds, “I have
given up my house, and taken good chambers in the Inner Temple, to
have the appearance of a lawyer. O Temple! Temple! is this realizing
any of the towering hopes which have so often been the subject of our
conversation and letters? Yet I live much with a great man, who, upon
any day that his fancy shall be so inclined, may obtain for me an
office which would make me independent.”
Boswell could cherish no reasonable hope of professional advancement,
save through the patronage of Lord Lonsdale. And the recent escapade
at Lowther Castle might have shown him that sentiments of respect were
unassociated with his lordship’s friendship. What he could not perceive
in August, 1789, was made sufficiently plain in the following June. The
narrative must be presented in his own words. Writing from Carlisle to
Mr. Temple on the 21st June, 1790, he proceeds:—
“At no period during our long friendship have I been more unhappy
than at present. The day on which I was obliged to set out from
London I had no time allowed me after a most shocking conversation
with Lord Lonsdale, and I hastened home in hopes of finding you,
but you were gone out. It was to inform you that upon his seeing
me by no means in good humour, he challenged it roughly, and said,
‘I suppose you thought I was to bring you into Parliament. I never
had any such intention.’ In short, he expressed himself in the most
degrading manner, in presence of a low man from Carlisle, and one
of his menial servants. The miserable state of low spirits I had,
as you too well know, laboured under for some time before made me
almost sink under such unexpected insulting behaviour. He insisted
rigorously on my having solicited the office of Recorder of Carlisle;
and that I could not, without using him ill resign it until the
duties which were now required of it were fulfilled, and without a
sufficient time being given for the election of a successor. Thus was
I dragged away as wretched as a convict; and in my fretfulness I used
such expressions as excited him almost to fury, so that he used such
expressions towards me that I should have, according to the irrational
laws of honour sanctioned by the world, been under the necessity of
risking my life, had not an explanation taken place.... I am down at
an inn, in wretched spirits, and ashamed and sunk on account of the
disappointment of hopes which led me to endure such grievances. I
deserve all that I suffer. I may be kept hanging on for weeks, till
the election and Midsummer Sessions are over; and I am at the same
time distracted what to do in my own county, as to the state of which
I expect letters every day. I am quite in a fever. O my old and most
intimate friend, what a shocking state am I now reduced to! I entreat
of you, if you possibly can, to afford me some consolation, directed
to me here, and pray do not divulge my mortification. I will endeavour
to appear indifferent; and as I now resign my Recordership, I shall
gradually get rid of all communication with this brutal fellow.”
In Boswell’s correspondence Lord Lonsdale’s name only reappears once.
Writing to Mr. Temple on the 21st July, he remarks, “I parted from
the northern tyrant in a strange equivocal state, for he was half
irritated, half reconciled; but I promise you I shall keep myself quite
independent of him.”
Parliament was dissolved in July, and Boswell proposed once more
to offer his services to the Ayrshire constituency. He ultimately
determined more wisely, remarking to Mr. Temple that “he did not go to
Ayrshire, finding that he could only show how small a party he had.”
Amidst these distractions, Boswell found leisure warmly to interest
himself in two objects to which he had pledged his support. The
first of these was to obtain subscribers for two volumes of sermons,
published by his former tutor and early friend, Mr. John Dun, parish
minister of Auchinleck.[96] In these volumes the reverend author
attempted to ridicule the poet Burns. The following verses, a parody
on the bard’s “Address to the Deil,” were regarded by Boswell without
disfavour:—
“THE DEIL’S ANSWER TO HIS VERRA FREEND R. BURNS.
“So zealous Robin, stout an’ fell,
True champion for the cause o’ hell,
Thou beats the righteous down pell mell,
Sae frank and frothy,
That o’ a seat where devils dwell,
There’s nane mair worthy.
* * * * *
“Thou does as weel’s could be expectit,
O’ ane wha’s wit lay long neglectet;
Some _godly folk_ your rhyme, I trow,
Ca’ worthless blether;
But be na feart, ye’s get your due,
When we forgather.
* * * * *
“In hell when I read o’er your sang,
Where rhymes come thun’ring wi’ a bang,
Quoth I, trouth I’s see Rab or lang,
An’ that’s be seen.
Giff Nick should on me ride the stang
To Aberdeen.”
Mr. Dun’s work was still-born. In a letter to Mr. Temple, Boswell
regrets that his friend would, by his performance, be “a sad loser.”
While thus abetting the ridicule of the Ayrshire poet, Boswell’s other
enterprize was more creditable. He gave assistance in raising funds for
a monument to Dr. Johnson in Westminster Abbey. To this undertaking he
thus refers in a letter to Mr. Temple, dated the 28th November, 1789:—
“Last Sunday I dined with him (Malone), with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sir
Joseph Banks, Mr. Metcalfe, Mr. Windham, Mr. Courtenay, and young Mr.
Burke, being a select number of Dr. Johnson’s friends, to settle as to
effectual measures for having a monument erected to him in Westminster
Abbey; it is to be a whole-length statue of him, by Bacon, which will
cost £600. Sir Joshua and Sir William Scott, his executors, are to
send circular letters to a number of people, of whom we make a list,
as supposing they will contribute. Several of us subscribed five
guineas each, Sir Joshua and Metcalfe ten guineas each, Courtenay and
young Burke two guineas each. Will you not be one of us, were it but
for one guinea? We expect that the Bench of Bishops will be liberal,
as he was the greatest supporter of the hierarchy. That venerable
sound brings to my mind the ruffians of France, who are attempting
to destroy all order, ecclesiastical and civil. The present state
of that country is an intellectual earthquake, a whirlwind, a mad
insurrection, without any immediate cause, and therefore we see to
what a horrible anarchy it tends.”
The subject of the monument is resumed in Boswell’s letter to Mr.
Temple, dated 8th February, 1790:—
“You will have seen that Johnson’s friends have been exerting
themselves for his monument, which is to cost six hundred guineas. We
have now near to £400 of the money. Can we have no Cornish coin? I
wish you could assist us in your neighbourhood. As your character of
Gray was adopted by him it would appear well if you sent two guineas.
We shall have a great dispute as to the epitaph. Flood, the orator,
though a distinguished scholar, says it should be in English, as
a compliment to Johnson’s having perpetuated our language; he has
compressed his opinion in these lines:—
“No need of Latin, or of Greek to grace
Our Johnson’s memory and inscribe his grave;
His native tongue demands this mournful space,
To pay the immortality he gave.”
Johnson’s monument in Westminster Abbey was erected in 1796 at the
cost of eleven hundred guineas; it was inscribed with a Latin epitaph
composed by Dr. Parr. Mr. Temple’s name does not appear among the
subscribers.
With the entire prostration of his political and professional
expectations, Boswell relapsed into melancholy. In a letter to Mr.
Temple dated 21st July he expresses himself in this earnest manner:—
“Surely, my dear friend, there must be another world in which such
beings as we are will have our misery compensated. But is not this a
state of probation? and if it is, how awful is the consideration! I am
struck with your question, ‘Have you confidence in the Divine aid?’ In
truth I am sensible that I do not sufficiently ‘_try_ my ways’ as the
Psalmist says, and am ever almost inclined to think with you _that_ my
great _oracle Johnson did allow too much credit to good principles,
without good practice_.”
In this passage Dr. Johnson’s sentiments on practical religion are
strangely perverted. Had not the great moralist warned his companion
against vanity and self-deceit, and the substitution of good intentions
for the active practice of virtue? In the autumn of 1790, Boswell’s
intemperance was excessive. On the 4th December, he wrote to Mr. Malone
in these words:—
“On the day after your departure, that most friendly fellow
Courtenay[97] (begging the pardon of an M.P. for so free an epithet)
called on me, and took my word and honour that, till the 1st of March,
my allowance of wine per diem should not exceed four good glasses
at dinner, and a pint after it; and this I have kept, though I have
dined with Jack Wilkes; at the London Tavern, after the launch of an
Indiaman with dear Edwards; Dilly; at home with Courtenay; Dr. Barrow;
at the mess of the Coldstream; at the Club; at Warren Hastings’;
at Hawkins the Cornish member’s; and at home with a colonel of the
guards, &c. This regulation, I assure you, is of essential advantage
in many respects.”
Like the vow under “the solemn yew” at Mamhead, the word of honour
pledged to Mr. Courtenay was soon forgotten. On the 25th February,
1791, Boswell wrote to Mr. Malone as follows:—
“Your friendly admonition as to excess in wine has been often too
applicable; but upon this late occasion I erred on the other side.
However as I am now free from my restriction to Courtenay I shall be
much upon my guard; for, to tell the truth, I did go too deep the day
before yesterday, having dined with Michael Angelo Taylor, and then
supped at the London Tavern with the stewards of the Humane Society.”
In his letter of the 4th December, Boswell affirms that his promise
of sobriety extended till the 1st of March; he reports on the 25th of
February, that the term had closed! His melancholy had returned. On the
7th of February Mr. Temple was addressed thus:—
“Before this time you have been informed of my having had a most
miserable return of bad spirits. Not only have I had a total distaste
of life, but have been perpetually gnawed by a kind of mental fever.
It is really shocking that human nature is liable to such inexplicable
distress. Oh, my friend, what can I do? * * * Your observation in a
former letter, as to time being measured not only by days and years,
but by an advancement in life, is new and striking, and is brought
home to us both, especially to me, who have obtained no advancement
whatever; but let me not harass you with my complaints.”
In his next letter to Mr. Temple, written on the 2nd of April, Boswell
further expatiates on his melancholy. He writes:—
“Your kindness to me fairly makes me shed tears. Alas! I fear that my
constitutional melancholy, which returns in such dismal fits, and is
now aggravated by the loss of my valuable wife, must prevent me from
any permanent felicity in this life. I snatch gratifications, but
have no comfort, at least very little; yet your encouraging letters
make me think at times that I may yet, by God’s blessing, attain to
a portion of happiness, such as philosophy and religion concur in
assuring us that this state of progressive being allows. I get bad
rest in the night, and then I brood over all my complaints, the sickly
mind which I have had from my early years—the disappointment of my
hopes of success in life—the irrevocable separation between me and
that excellent woman, who was my cousin, my friend and my wife; the
embarrassment of my affairs—the disadvantage to my children in having
so wretched a father—nay, the want of absolute certainty of being
happy after death, the _sure prospect_ of which is frightful.”
Within a few months after sustaining that bereavement, which he still
deplored, Boswell contemplated the repair of his shattered fortunes by
contracting a second marriage. While in the North he wrote Mr. Temple
in July, 1790. “I got such accounts of the lady of fortune, whose
reputation you heard something of, that I was quite determined to make
no advances. Whether I shall take any such step I doubt much. The loss
I have experienced is perpetually recurring.”
Boswell resolved closely to watch his opportunity. His letter to Mr.
Temple of the 2nd April, 1791, contains the following:—
“I am to dine with Sir William Scott, the King’s Advocate, at the
Commons to-morrow, and shall have a serious consultation with him, as
he has always encouraged me. It is to be a family party, where I am
to meet Miss Bagnal (his lady’s sister) who may probably have six or
seven hundred a year. She is about seven and twenty, and he tells me
lively and gay—a Ranelagh girl—but of excellent principles, insomuch
that she reads prayers to the servants in her father’s family every
Sunday evening. ‘Let me see such a woman,’ cried I; and accordingly
I am to see her. She has refused young and fine gentlemen. ‘Bravo,’
cried I, ‘we see then what her taste is.’ Here then I am, my Temple,
my flattering self! A scheme—an adventure seizes my fancy. Perhaps
I may not like her; and what should I do with such a companion,
unless she should really take a particular liking to me, which is
surely not probable; and, as I am conscious of my distempered mind,
could I _honestly_ persuade her to unite her fate with mine. As to my
daughters, did I see a rational prospect of so good a scheme, I should
not neglect it on their account, though I should certainly be liberal
to them.”
Miss Bagnal’s name does not reappear. But he informs Mr. Temple on the
22nd of August that his matrimonial plans were still active:—
“You must know,” he writes, “I have had several matrimonial schemes
of late. I shall amuse you with them from Auchinleck. One was Miss
Milles, daughter of the late Dean of Exeter, a most agreeable woman
‘_d’un certain âge_,’ and with a fortune of £10,000; she has left town
for the summer. It was no small circumstance that she said to me, ‘Mr.
Temple is a charming man.’”
The progress of Boswell’s _magnum opus_ has been traced to the 4th
December, 1790. On the 12th of that month the author wrote to Mr.
Temple:—
“My work has met with a delay for a little while—not a whole day,
however—by an unaccountable neglect in having paper enough in
readiness. I have now before me p. 256. My utmost wish is to come
forth on Shrove Tuesday (8th March).”
Mr. Malone was now in Ireland, and Boswell, in reporting to him the
progress of his undertaking, also communicated the miserable details of
his private embarrassments. In a letter to Mr. Malone, dated the 18th
January, 1791, he writes thus:—
“I have been so disturbed by sad money matters that my mind has been
quite fretful; £500 which I borrowed and lent to a first cousin, an
unlucky captain of an Indiaman, were due on the 15th to a merchant in
the city. I could not possibly raise that sum, and was apprehensive
of being hardly used. He, however, indulged me with an allowance to
make partial payments, £150 in two months, £150 in eight months, and
the remainder, with the interests, in eighteen months. How I am to
manage I am at a loss, and I know you cannot help me. So this, upon
my honour, is no hint. I am really tempted to accept of the £1000 for
my life of Johnson. Yet it would go to my heart to sell it at a price
which I think much too low. Let me struggle and hope. I cannot be out
on Shrove Tuesday as I flattered myself. P. 376 of Vol. II. is ordered
for the press, and I expect another proof to-night. But I have yet
near 200 pages of copy, besides letters, and _the death_, which is not
yet written.”
Writing to Mr. Malone on the 29th January, Boswell makes these
deplorable revelations:—
“I have for some weeks had the most woeful return of melancholy,
insomuch that I have not only had no relish of anything, but a
continual uneasiness and all the prospect before me for the rest
of life has seemed gloomy and hopeless. The state of my affairs is
exceedingly embarrassed. I mentioned to you that the £500 which I
borrowed several years ago and lent to a first cousin, an unfortunate
India captain, must now be paid; £150 on the 18th of March, £150 on
the 18th October, and £257 15s. 6d. on the 18th July, 1792. This
debt presses upon my mind, and it is uncertain if I shall ever get a
shilling of it again. The clear money on which I can reckon out of my
estate is scarcely £900 a year. What can I do? My grave brother urges
me to quit London and live at my seat in the country, where he thinks
that I might be able to save so as gradually to relieve myself. But,
alas! I should be _absolutely_ miserable. In the meantime such are
my projects and sanguine expectations, that you know I purchased an
estate which was given long ago to a younger son of our family, and
came to be sold last autumn, and paid for it £2500, £1500 of which I
borrow upon itself by a mortgage. But the remaining £1000 I cannot
conceive a possibility of raising, but by the mode of annuity which
is I believe a very heavy disadvantage. I own it was imprudent in me
to make a clear purchase at a time when I was sadly straitened, but
if I had missed the opportunity it never again would have occurred,
and I should have been vexed to see an ancient appanage, a piece
of, as it were, the flesh and blood of the family in the hands of a
stranger. And now that I have made the purchase I should feel myself
quite despicable should I give it up. In this situation, then, my
dear sir, would it not be wise in me to accept 1000 guineas for my
Life of Johnson, supposing the person who made the offer should now
stand to it, which I fear may not be the case; for two volumes may be
considered as a disadvantageous circumstance. Could I indeed raise
£1000 upon the credit of the work, I should incline to _game_, as Sir
Joshua says, because it may produce double the money, though Steevens
_kindly_ tells me that I have over printed, and that the curiosity
about Johnson is _now_ only in our own circle. Pray decide for me;
and if, as I suppose, you are for my taking the offer inform me with
whom I am to treat. In my present state of spirits I am all timidity.
Your absence has been a severe shake to me. I am at present quite at
a loss what to do.... I have now desired to have but one compositor.
Indeed, I go sluggishly and comfortlessly about my work. As I pass
your door I cast many a longing look.... We had a numerous club on
Tuesday; I in the chair, quoting Homer and Fielding, &c. to the
astonishment of Jo. Warton, who with Langton and Seward eat a plain
bit with me in my new house last Saturday.”
On the 10th February, Boswell informed Mr. Malone that he had invested
£16 8s. in a lottery ticket, and that instead of obtaining £5000 had
drawn a blank. He proceeds:—
“Oh, could I but get a few thousands, what a difference would it make
upon my state of mind, which is harassed by thinking of my debts! I am
anxious to have your determination as to my _magnum opus_. I am very
unwilling to part with the property of it, and certainly would not,
if I could but get credit for £1000 for three or four years. Could
you not assist me in that way, on the security of the book, and of
an assignment to one half of my rents, £700, which, upon my honour,
are always due, and would be forthcoming in the case of my decease. I
_will_ not sell till I have your answer as to this.”
Mr. Malone did not reply. On the 25th Boswell made a new proposal.
After referring to a severe attack of melancholy which had lately
oppressed him, he proceeds:—
“I am in a distressing perplexity how to decide as to the property of
my book. You must know that I am certainly informed that a certain
person, who delights in mischief, has been depreciating it, so that
I fear the sale of it may be very dubious. _Two quartos_ and _two
guineas_ sound in an alarming manner. I believe in my present frame
I should accept even of £500, for I suspect that were I now to talk
to Robinson, I should find him not disposed to give £1000. Did he
absolutely offer it, or did he only express himself so as that you
_concluded_ he would give it? The pressing circumstance is that I must
lay down £1000 by the 1st of May on account of the purchase of land,
which my old family enthusiasm urged me to make. You, I doubt not,
have full confidence in my honesty. May I then ask you if you could
venture to join with me in a bond for that sum, as then I would take
my chance, and as Sir Joshua says, Game with my book? Upon my honour,
your telling me that you cannot comply with what I propose will not
in the least surprise me, or make any manner of difference as to my
opinion of your friendship. I mean to ask Sir Joshua if he will join;
for, indeed, I should be vexed to sell my _magnum opus_ for a great
deal less than its intrinsic value. I meant to publish on Shrove
Tuesday, but if I can get out within the month of March I shall be
satisfied.”
Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Malone both declined pecuniary
responsibility, but Boswell was nevertheless relieved from his
embarrassments. He obtained in Scotland a loan of £600 on the credit
of his rents, and Dilly and Baldwin made an advance on the credit of
his book. Writing to Mr. Malone on the 8th March, he excuses that
gentleman’s unwillingness to incur monetary risk, and elated in having
overcome the pressure of his creditors, he resolves to keep the
property of his book, “believing that he should not _repent_ it.” There
is a new grievance:—
“You would observe,” he writes, “some stupid lines on Mr. Burke
in the ‘Oracle’ by _Mr. Boswell_. I instantly wrote to Mr. Burke,
expressing my indignation at such impertinence, and had next morning
a most obliging answer. Sir William Scott told me I could have no
legal redress. So I went _civilly_ to Bell, and he promised to mention
_handsomely_ that _James Boswell_, Esq., was not the author of the
lines. The note, however, on the subject, was a second impertinence.
But I can do nothing. I wish Fox, in his bill upon libels, would make
a heavy penalty the consequence of forging any person’s name to any
composition, which in reality such a trick amounts to.”
Four days after conveying to Mr. Malone the tidings of his his
deliverance from pecuniary troubles, Boswell condoles with his friend,
in his lottery ticket having drawn a blank, since had a prize turned
up, he would have expected the accommodation of a loan! He proceeds:—
“As it is, I shall, as I wrote to you, be enabled to weather my
difficulties for some time; but I am still in great anxiety about
the sale of my book. I find so many people shake their heads at the
_two quartos_ and _two guineas_. Courtenay is clear that I should
sound Robinson and accept of a thousand guineas, if he will give
that sum. Meantime, the title-page must be made as good as may be.
It appears to me that mentioning his studies, works, conversations,
and letters, is not sufficient; and I would suggest comprehending an
account, in chronological order, of his studies, works, friendships,
acquaintances, and other particulars; his conversation with eminent
men; a series of his letters to various persons; also several original
pieces of his compositions never before published. The whole, &c. You
will probably be able to assist me in expressing my idea and arranging
the parts. In the advertisement I intend to mention the letter to Lord
Chesterfield, and perhaps the interview with the King, and the names
of the correspondents, in alphabetical order.... Do you know that my
bad spirits are returned upon me to a certain degree; and such is
the sickly fondness for change of place, and imagination of relief,
that I sometimes think you are happier by being in Dublin, than one
is in this great metropolis, where hardly any man cares for another.
I am persuaded I should relish your Irish dinners very much. I have
at length got chambers in the Temple, in the very staircase where
Johnson lived, and when my _magnum opus_ is fairly launched, then
shall I make a trial.”
In his letter to Mr. Temple of the 2nd April, Boswell refers to his
forthcoming work in these terms:—
“My ‘Life of Johnson’ is at last drawing to a close. I am correcting
the last sheet.... I really hope to publish it on the 25th current....
I am at present in such bad spirits that I have every fear concerning
it—that I may get no profit, nay, may lose—that the public may be
disappointed, and think that I have done it poorly—that I may make
many enemies, and even have quarrels. But, perhaps, the very reverse
of all this may happen.”
Boswell adds in reference to his professional aspirations:—