published; I shall then have a character
which I must support." Unhappily the time for his perfection was again
and again put off. Johnson, in speaking of Derrick, said--"Derrick may
do very well, as long as he can outrun his character; but the moment his
character gets up with him, it is all over." With Boswell, just the
opposite was the case. He soon acquired a character--a character which
he was bound to support. But he could never get up with it. The friend
of Paoli, the friend of Johnson, was, unhappily, given to drink. The gay
spirits and lively health of youth supported him for a while; but, even
in these early days, he was too often troubled with that depression of
spirit which follows on a debauch. But, as time passed on, and the habit
grew stronger upon him, his health began to give way, and his
cheerfulness of mind to desert him. He lived but four years after the
publication of his great work.

In the preface to the second edition of the "Life of Johnson" he shows
his delight in his fame. "There are some men, I believe, who have, or
think they have, a very small share of vanity. Such may speak of their
literary fame in a decorous state of diffidence. But I confess that I am
so formed by nature and by habit, that to restrain the effusion of
delight on having obtained such fame, to me would be truly painful. Why,
then, should I suppress it? Why, 'out of the abundance of the heart,'
should I not speak?" This preface bears the date of July 1, 1793. Only
ten days earlier he had written to tell Temple how he had been drinking,
and had been robbed. "The robbery is only of a few shillings; but the
cut on my head and bruises on my arms were sad things, and confined me
to bed in pain, and fever, and helplessness, as a child, many days....
This shall be a crisis in my life: I trust I shall henceforth be a
sober, regular man. Indeed, my indulgence in wine has, of late years
especially, been excessive.... Your suggestion as to my being carried
off in a state of intoxication, is awful. I thank you for it, my dear
friend. It impressed me much, I assure you." It was too late in life to
form resolutions. A year later he was again "resolved anew to be upon
his guard." In the May of 1795, he died, after an illness of great
suffering. To him might be applied some of the lines which the great
poet who lived so near him wrote as his own epitaph:--

"He keenly felt the friendly glow,
And softer flame;
B