THURSDAY 28 APRIL

Get up before 8 & dress neat & break[fast] in Parlour, & bring up Journ neat, & be denied[.] At half an hour before 12 Erskine; & take Satires wt. you & account of lett[er]s in writing.1 Then call Blair for Museum.2 At 3 go Temp[le] & be fine. & at night home & letters to Murray &c. Ask Col Douglas for Mrs. Corrie. Call for her & Charles Douglas; & see Erskine[,] Doug[las]3 &c. Be at home every morn & don’t dine till late & so be composed. Go before 11 to Ersk[ine] for Flexney & rather journ more at night.

Temple & I past the day mostly together. I was very unhappy. Erskine was now come;4 & he & I dined with Capt. Arch: Erskine.

FRIDAY 29 APRIL

Order Breakfast for Captains, & none else admitt. Pay Mrs Terrie last week, & also candles. After break[fast] Flex[ney] — then Temp[le]. Then for certain — home all afternoon. have tea & settle. Buy another Chronicle.1 Compose mind. Bring up journ. fall to Hume & try to be as when confined.2 By all means, be clear ’gainst Saturd[ay].3 for child[’s] & N[orth] Brit[on]. By no means go down to Misery.4 Call Douglas[,] Mrs. Corrie

The two Captain Erskines breakfasted with me. Captain Andrew & I dined with Houstoun Stewart.5 We were too extravagant in the ludicrous stile & I was not happy.

SATURDAY 30 APRIL

Call Douglas — Mrs. Corrie. Send for Mrs. Terrie & settle 2 weeks — then break[fast] Douglass & settle more electuary.1 Then Ersk[ine] — then Flex[ney] then Donaldson — then home & just have tea & Bring up forthnight’s journ & letters, so as to be clear on May-day — Now be sure to do this — On Sunday be wt. Temp[le] all day — & after Monday determine to be fine & put yourself under Temp[le]’s tuition.

I breakfasted with Captain Cordwell,2 who formerly lodged in the same house with me, at Edinburgh. I sauntered up and down all the day, very low-spirited & in the afternoon Erskine & I drank tea & Coffee at the Turk’s head Coffee-house.3

SUNDAY 1 MAY

Walk in Park & if you please home & break[fast] & bring up journ & dont see Temp[le] till after review.1 Or go Temp[le] & be wt. him all day & at night Journ & new pen to it. & Landlady up2 — Exert resolution & on tuesday begin & rise at 7 & read allways till 2 & acquire stability & self-command &c. See Lee[,] L[ove,] Garrick &c &c &c &c. Monday leave wash cloaths.

I breakfasted with Macpherson who had just returned from a trip thro’ Holland and France with Lord Elibank. He said his ideas of this Country were lessened by seeing the gayety & splendour of france, and the opulence & cleanliness of Holland. At the same time, he said that to retain our high ideas of any thing, we should not see it. He said too that few, if any[,] people were happy. I was so bad this day, that I could not settle to go to public worship. I met my friend Temple who introduced me to his brother[,] a genteel agreable young man[,] a Lieutenant in the Royal Volunteers.3 Temple sympathised much with my distress, and forgave my not calling on him for some days. I dined at Douglas’s, where was Captain Blair.4 This dinner was comfortable & hearty & relieved me a good deal. Honest Blair was very good company. In the evening I called at Dempster’s where was Erskine.

MONDAY 2 MAY

Dress just queue1 — then leave cloaths wt. Chetwynd — & see Terrie & settle about Lett[er]s — & tell Dempst[er] the story2 to-day — this is Great Day. Go to Ersk[ine] immed & send for both Rev[iew]s then D[empster]’s & read.3 Then Eglint[oune]’s & Temp[le]’s; you could not settle till now — So at night home & bring up [journal]. L[ove]’s this forenoon — be at Lear, solus.4 Be now retenue & never out at night

This morning Erskine & I expected the reviews on our letters. So we breakfasted at Dempster’s. However our time was not yet come. Dempster this day gave us an excellent dinner. We went with him & saw his honour lay out half a guinea in the article of fish. Johnston the Advocate5 was one of the Guests. He pleased me by talking about a man’s having vigour of mind. Indeed there is such a kind of human beings; and happy are they in comparrison with the feeble & fluctuating. We drank tea here. Yet I still remained very low-spirited.

TUESDAY 3 MAY

Dress queue — then see Terrie about Lett[er]s — Then up to tower & see Show1 — & think on King Charles days2 — Then back to Temp[le] & Ersk[ine] — Then Don[aldson] at 2 — Eat moderate — & home at 5 & write lett[er]s — & bring up Journ — & have tea & begin fair retenué & stay in to become Master — except to Little house in park.3 See Cassilis.4

I walked up to the Tower in order to see Mr. Wilkes come out. But he was gone. I then thought I should see Prisoners of one kind or other; So went to Newgate.5 I step’d into a sort of court before the Cells. They are surely most dismal places. There are three rows of ’em[,] four in a row, all above each other. They have double iron Windows & within these strong iron rails; and in these dark mansions are the unhappy criminals confined. I did not go in; but stood in the court where were a number of strange blackguard beings with sad countenances[,] most of them being friends & acquaintances of those under sentence of death. Mr. Rice the Broker6 was confined in another part of the house. In the Cells were Paul Lewis for Robbery & Hannah Diego for theft.7 I saw them pass by to Chapel. The Woman was a big unconcerned being. Paul who had been in the sea service & was called Captain was a genteel, spirited young fellow. He was just a Macheath[.]8 He was drest in a white coat & blue silk vest & silver with his hair neatly queued & a silver lac’d hat smartly cock’d.9 An acquaintance asked him how he was. He said very well; quite resigned. Poor fellow! I realy took a great concern for him, & wished to relieve him. He walked firmly & with a good air, with his chains rattling upon him, to the Chapel.

Erskine and I dined at the renowned Donaldson’s where we were heartily entertained. All this afternoon I felt myself still more melancholy. Newgate hung upon my mind like a black cloud. Poor Lewis was allways coming accross me. I felt myself dreary at night, & made my Barber try to read me asleep with Hume’s History of which he made very sad work. I lay in sad concern.

WEDNESDAY 4 MAY

My curiosity to see the melancholy spectacle of the executions was so strong that I could not resist it; altho’ I was sensible that I would suffer much from it. In my younger years I had read in the lives of the Convicts1 so much about Tyburn,2 that I had a sort of horrid eagerness to be there. I also wished to see the last behaviour of Paul Lewis[,] the handsom fellow whom I had seen the day before. Accordingly I took Captain Temple with me; & He & I got up on a Scaffold, very near the fatal tree; so that we could clearly see all the dismal Scene. There was a most prodigious crowd of Spectators.3 I was most terribly shocked, & thrown into a very deep melancholy. I went to Lord Eglintoune, & beg’d he would try to relieve me. He made me dress & dine with him, & said he would take me at night to Ranelagh,4 and introduce me to some pretty Women. Dress & dinner gave me spirits. But at seven, he proposed to take a little Boy[,] one Baron[,]5 in the coach with us. This is a Boy of great Genius both as a Painter & a Musician & he will probably be a Man of great eminence. But at present, He is a little black trifling being; so that his being in my company is a punishment to me. My Lord therefore having gone out & promised to call with the Coach & take us up, I made my escape very quietly. This was perhaps being too nice & capricious. I went home & chang’d my cloaths. But gloomy terrors came upon me so much, as Night approachd[,] that I durst not stay by myself; so I went & had a bed or rather half a one from honest Erskine, which he most kindly gave me.

THURSDAY 5 MAY

This was a Thanksgiving day for the Peace. But I did not go to Church. Dempster[,] Erskine & I walked out to Kensington to look for country lodgings to the great Orator (i.e. Dempster)[.] It was a fine day & the walking in the Garden delicious. We din’d at ye C-House,1 & came to Dempster’s & past the Evening[.] I was still in horror, & so slept this night with him.

FRIDAY 6 MAY

I awaked as usual heavy, confused & splenetic. Every morning this is the case with me. Dempster prescribed to me to cut two or three brisk capers round the room; which I did, & found attended with most agreable effects. It expelled the phlegm from my heart, gave my blood a free circulation & my spirits a brisk flow; so that I was all at once made happy. I must remember this, & practice it. Tho’ indeed when one is in low spirits he generaly is so indolent & careless, that rather than take a little trouble he will just sink under the load. This morning the famous Wilkes was discharged from his Confinement,1 & followed to his house in Great George Street by an immense Mob, who saluted him with loud huzza’as while he stood bowing from his Window. I should have mentioned on the 29th of last month that Doctor Blair & some more of us went & saw the British Musæum, the numerous curiosities of which amused me a good deal. I forgot also to mention on Tuesday last that I breakfasted with Mr. Garrick. Colman the Author of the Jealous Wife2 was there. He is a sensible[,] clever agreable little Man. Mr. Garrick was very obliging today, & told me that his doors were allways open to me.

I then went to Temple’s where I had not been for some days. He said he excused my unhappy dissipation, & just thought ‘Poor Man! he can’t help it!’ But he hoped I would become composed. He & I & Bob (the Captain) din’d at Clifton’s, Where we intend allways to dine. When I went home at night I was tired & went to bed & thought to sleep. But I was still so haunted with frightfull imaginations, that I durst not lie by myself, but rose & sallied straight to Erskine, who realy had compassion on me, & as before shared his bed with me. I am too easily affected. It is a weakness of mind. I own it.

SATURDAY 7 MAY

Break[fast] Coutts & get 2 doz franks. Then call at Payne’s1 and enquire for Col: Douglas & Charles your cousins. then Temple. Then home, have tea and bring up Journ and lett[er]s till this week[.] You are now in a fair way. Things have taken a turn. encourage the fine humour and become easy & well. Be acquainted wt. Nannie.2

The immense Donaldson3 & I sat a while at Dempster’s this morning. I then went to the City, and dined with Mr. Cochrane, & drank tea. I was very comfortable. My mind was recovering it’s tone. I went home at night, after sauntering with Dempster up & down fleet-market,4 & I went to bed quietly, & slept soundly.

SUNDAY 8 MAY

Dress wt. good Stockings. Then break[fast] Douglas & go to St. Bride’s[.] Dine wt. Temp[le] at Clifton’s. You have brought down journ far enough last night[.] Come home from Dempster’s tea & compleat it & have Chetwynd to read.1 Monday Hume till 12 & every day this week study all morn.

I went to Audley chapel,2 but was still so dissipated, that I could not fix my attention; so I came out after part of the service was over. I then step’d into a Romish Chapel,3 & was filled with most romantic ideas. I dined with Lord Eglintoune where was Lord Thanet & Abel.4

MONDAY 9 MAY

Up soon & dress — & allways rise at 7 & be drest immed — & walk round park. Then break[fast] at 9 & read till 2 & then Temple. This day bring up journ: till 12 & then Foote.1 Begin now serious to do well. Order charcoal.2 Be composed & learn retenué & be much wt. your friend,3 & be happy while you’re together. Value him properly. Call Douglas & Mrs. Corrie.

My gloom was gone; but my spirit of dissipation still remained; so that I was not sollidly happy. I dined at Lord Eglintoune’s. We had an exceeding good Company amongst whom were Mr. Harris of Salisbury[,] Doctor Blair and Mr. Macpherson & Sir James MacDonald. I felt myself happy in such a set, & realy felt gratitude to Lord Eglintoune for his kindness. He was not pleased for my shunning to go to Ranelagh. He said it was very difficult to make me go on right. ‘Jamie (said he) You have a light head, — but a damn’d heavy A—[,] and to be sure such a Man will run easily down hill; but it would be severe work to get him up.’ This illustration is very fine: For I do take lively projects into my head; but as to the execution, there I am tardy. Macpherson and I took a turn as far as Charing-cross. The night was bad & it affected us both & we groaned & said we were wretched. He said he had no relish for any thing in life, except Women & even these he cared but little for. We returned to My Lord’s & lay on the couch an hour in a lounging way; till he & Sir James came home. So we sup’d & were pretty well.

TUESDAY 10 MAY

Dress & break[fast] Dempst[er] & bring up Journ — & at 2 Temple. Be happy & value him properly: & tell him your plans. Now you’ve begun, go on smoothly. & determine to stay out year.1 In the afternoon, tea Douglas’s2 & get notice of Mrs. Corrie. Begin little endearments to Nannie. Set apart a visiting forenoon now & then

What greater proof need be given of dissipation, than my forgetting to mark in my journal of yesterday, that the hours between one and three were past in the little Theatre in the Hay-Market, under the Auspices of Mr. Foote? There did I laugh at his Orators very heartily.3 I was in the first row of the Gallery; & immediatly behind us sat Mr. APrice the original Cadwallader.4 Foote has his manner very much; but the excessive caricatura that he makes him, is altogether unjust & unnatural.

I dined this day with my friend at Clifton’s. At night I waited at Lord Eglintoune’s till he should come in. But the twelfth hour did not bring him. I therefore would wait no longer. At the bottom of the Hay-market I picked up a strong jolly young damsel, and taking her under the Arm I conducted her to Westminster-Bridge, and then in armour compleat did I engage her upon this noble Edifice.5 The whim of doing it there with the Thames rolling below us amused me much. Yet after the brutish appetite was sated I could not but despise myself for being so closely united with such a low Wretch. When I knocked at my lodgings, I could not get in. The poor Girl despairing of my approach, had gone to bed & fallen asleep. I returned to Lord Eglintoune’s[,] as Mr. Crookshanks was out of town & I might have his room. Accordingly, I was just shown into my old little chamber which I slept in, when I first lived at Lord Eglintoune’s. I was happy to get into it. But when I compared my ideas then, with those I had now, the present seem’d very dim and very tasteless. I went to bed at three. My Lord was still abroad.

WEDNESDAY 11 MAY

My Lord made me very wellcome & immediatly He & I began singing Catches, which is realy a most enlivening thing. There is some lively sentiment well accompanied with suitable music, & when sung in parts a fine harmony is produced. I take a lesson from him, whenever I can, & I make very good progress. I had a letter sometime ago from Bruce Campbell in which he told me that he had once drank a bottle of Sherry, in London, for me[,] and he insisted that I should call on a Lady of the Town named Miss Watts,1 and treat her with another of the same. I waited on her last night & found her a sensible quiet well-behaved girl: But as she was engaged, I could not have her company. I promised to call again. This day I dined at Dempster’s. Then drest & at seven went to Lord Eglintoune’s, & with Mrs. Brown & Mrs. Reid went in his coach to Ranelagh. I felt a glow of delight at entering again that elegant place. This is an entertainment quite peculiar to London. The Noble Rotundo all surrounded with Boxes to sit in & such a profusion of well-drest people walking round is very fine. My spirits were now better. Temple was here tonight. I went home with My Lord and his family; & took my bed freely & snugly.

THURSDAY 12 MAY

I went to Drury-lane, & saw Mr. Garrick play King Lear.1 So very high is his reputation even after playing so long, that the Pit was full in ten minutes after four, altho’ the Play did not begin till half an hour after Six. I kept myself at a distance from all acquaintances, & got into a proper frame.2 Mr. Garrick gave me the most perfect satisfaction. I was fully moved & I shed abundance of tears.3 The Farce was Polly Honeycomb,4 at which I laughed a good deal. It gave me a great consolation after my late fit of melancholy to find that I was again capable of receiving such high enjoyment.

FRIDAY 13 MAY

Dress & break[fast] & fall busy to Journ. Allot these two days for it & letters; & begin Hume1 on Monday — In the mean time acquire retenué — At 2 call L[ove] & see for money & be serious wt. him. Then Temple & dine somewhere; & home to Journ at night. & resolve to pluck up spirit, & attain character you value so highly. In the first place, be settled & so your own Master —

I breakfasted with Mr. Garrick. I was proud at being admitted to the Society of so great an Actor. Obrien the Player2 was there, a lively little fellow; but priggish. Mr. Garrick was pleased to hear that Donaldson had set up a Shop for cheap Books, & he walked out with me to the Shop,3 where I introduced Donaldson to him. The prodigious Vender of Literature was very proud of this. It was realy curious to see Mr. Garrick in Donaldson’s shop; & the two talking away busily. Mr. Garrick & I then walked to Lincoln’s Inn, where he went to call for Colman.4 He said he would undoubtedly go to Scotland some one summer, & play a night for each of the charitys at Edinburgh.5 I told him that he would be adored as something above humanity. I parted with him; & then dined at Clifton’s with Temple. We then went to his chambers, where he introduced me to a particular friend of his, a Mr. Nichols6 who had been with him at Cambridge. I never saw any body who engaged me more at the very first than this Gentleman. He discovered an amiable disposition[,] a sweetness of manners & an easy politeness that pleased me much. We went to Tom’s & had a Pot of Coffee & sat there for two hours. Our conversation took a literary turn. We talked of Helvetius[,] Voltaire, Rousseau,7 Hume. Mr. Nichols I found to be sensible & elegantly learned[;] with an agreable moderation of sentiment intermixed his character was finely compleated. I talked realy very well. I have not past so much rational time I dont know when. The degree of distance due to a stranger restrained me from my effusions of ludicrous nonsence, & intemperate mirth. I was rational & composed, yet lively & entertaining. I had a good opinion of myself, & I could perceive my friend Temple much satisfyed with me. Could I but fix myself in such a character & preserve it uniformly, I should be exceedingly happy. I hope to do so, and to attain constancy & dignity, without which I can never be satisfied, as I have these ideas strong, and pride myself in thinking that my natural character is that of dignity. My friend Temple is very good in consoling me by saying that I may be such a Man, and that People will say — ‘Mr. Boswell is quite altered from the dissipated inconstant fellow that he was. He is now a reserved grave sort of a Man. But indeed that was his real character, & he only deviated into these eccentric paths for a while.’ Well then let me see if I have resolution enough to bring that about. I went to Lord Eglintoune’s & supt, together with Sir James, with whom I am now on an excellent footing. I ordered my bed & took up my quarters as usual.

SATURDAY 14 MAY

Every time that I sleep at the Earl’s, I never fail to breakfast before I leave his house. I am realy on an excellent plan at his house. I believe he is as fond of me as Dissipation will allow him to be of any man. I must however complain against fate, that Mrs. Brown stays in his house. For I realy find her to be such a Gawky & so much of a low censorious Scots lass, that I am just in a rage, or rather in a discontent with her. This forenoon I met Dempster. He has now taken country lodgings at Kensington, for himself and Sister. He & I called on Doctor Blair where was Sir James, who asked if they could understand such a strange thing as this. Boswell and Macpherson got into a coach together; both exclaimed they were miserable, and both burst out in loud peals of laughter. This was literaly true. Indeed I have often found that when I vented my complaints of melancholy, it appeared somewhat ludicrous, and I could not but laugh. Blair said that Macpherson must be miserable, because he was absolutely void of curiosity. Blair asked him why he was fond of staying in England, as he surely could not like John Bull. Sir said he I hate John Bull; but I love his daughters. I walked out to Kensington with Dempster, and dined with him. I was glad to see Miss Dempster once more. He is charmingly lodged here, and the fellow enjoys it much. We came all into London together. They were going to the Country, & set me down at Hyde-park corner.

SUNDAY 15 MAY

I was in an excellent calm and serious mood. I attended divine service in Ludgate-church1 with patience and satisfaction and was much edified. I then dined at honest Cochrane’s, after which He & I and two other Gentlemen went to Dr. Fordyce’s meeting in Monkwell Street,2 and heard Doctor Blair preach. I thought this would have done me good. But I found the reverse. Blair’s new-kirk delivery and the Dissenters3 roaring out the Psalms sitting on their Backsides together with the extempore prayers & in short the whole vulgar idea of the Presbyterian worship made me very gloomy. I therefore hastened from this place to St. Paul’s, where I heard the conclusion of service, and had my mind set right again. I should have mentioned that I breakfasted this morning with the illustrious Donaldson. In the evening I went to Temple’s: he brought me acquainted with a Mr. Claxton[,]4 a very good sort of a young man tho’ reserved at first. Mr. Nichols was there too. Our conversation was sensible & lively. I wish I could spend my time allways in such company.

MONDAY 16 MAY

You are now on good Plan. Break[fast] neat today toast rolls & Butter easily & not too laughable.1 Then L[ove]’s & get money or First fin[ish] Journ[.] Keep plan in mind & be in earnest — Keep in this fine frame & be directed by Temple — At night see Pringle[.] Go to Piazza2 & take some negoes e’er you go; or go cool & take Letter & bid him settle all but not too fast.3 Send bretch[es] mend by barb[er’s] boy[.] remember G. D. Georges.4

Temple & his Brother breakfasted with me. I went to Love’s to try to recover some of the money which he owes me. But alas a single guinea was all I could get. He was just going to dinner, so I stayed & eat a bit; tho’ I was angry at myself afterwards. I drank tea at Davies’s in Russel Street and about seven came in the great Mr. Samuel Johnson, whom I have so long wished to see. Mr. Davies introduced me to him. As I knew his mortal antipathy at the Scotch,5 I cried to Davies ‘Don’t tell where I come from.’ However he said From Scotland. Mr. Johnson[,] said I[,] indeed I come from Scotland, but I cannot help it. ‘Sir’ replied he[,] ‘That I find is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot help.’ Mr. Johnson is a Man of a most dreadfull appearance. He is a very big man[,] is troubled with sore eyes, the Palsy & the King’s evil.6 He is very slovenly in his dress & speaks with a most uncouth voice. Yet his great knowledge, and strength of expression command vast respect and render him very excellent company. He has great humour and is a worthy man. But his dogmatical roughness of manners is dissagreable. I shall mark what I remember of his conversation. He said that ‘People might be taken in once in imagining that an Author is greater than other people, in private life. Uncommon parts require uncommon opportunitys for their exertion. In barbarous Society superiority of parts is of real consequence. Great strength or wisdom is of value to an individual. But in more polished times, you have people to do every thing for money. And then there are a number of other superioritys such as those of birth & fortune & rank that dissipate men’s attention and leave superiority of parts no extraordinary share of respect. And this is wisely ordered by Providence, to preserve a Mediocrity. Lord Kames’s Elements is a pretty Essay, and deserves to be held in some Estimation. Tho’ it is chimerical. Wilkes is safe in the eye of the Law. But he is an abusive Scoundrel; and instead of sending My Lord Chief Justice to him, I would send a parcel of footmen, and have him well ducked.7 The Notion of Liberty amuses the People of England & helps to keep off the tædium vitæ.8 When a Butcher says that he is in distress for his country, he has no uneasy feeling. Sheridan will not succeed at Bath,9 for Ridicule has gone down before him, & I doubt10 Derrick is his ennemy.’ I was sorry to leave him there at ten when I had engaged to be at Doctor Pringle’s, with whom I had a serious conversation much to my Mind.

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I stayed this night at Ld. Eglintoune’s[.]

TUESDAY 17 MAY

I sauntered up and down all this forenoon; & dined with Lord Eglintoune, where was Sir James, who said he wondered how I could complain of being miserable, who had allways such a flow of spirits. Melancholy cannot be clearly proved to others; so it is better to be silent about it. I should have been at Lady Northumberland’s rout tonight, but my Barber fell sick;1 so I sallied to the Streets & just at the bottom of our own, I picked up a fresh agreable young Girl called Alice Gibbs. We went down a lane to a snug place; and I took out my armour, but she begged that I might not put it on, as the sport was much pleasanter without it; & as she was quite safe. I was so rash as to trust her, & had a very agreable congress.

WEDNESDAY 18 MAY

Dress & break[fast] in & exclude all but Temp[le][.] Bring up Journ & Hume till 1 Then go to Exhibition.1 Tell Temple your risque2 & make him lay restrictions upon you, never to have any connection without a permission from him as you realy may get into sad scrapes. Dine Clifton’s. Call Don[aldson] & fix a night for Ersk[ine] — Then call Flex[ney.] You may also see Baldwin.3 Persist in Plan to avoid dissipation, & attain command of yourself. Wash feet. Call Chas. Douglas

Much concern was I in from the apprehension of being again reduced to Misery, and in so silly a way too. My benevolence indeed suggested to me to put confidence in the poor Girl; but then[,] said cool reason, what abandoned deceitfull wretches are these Girls, and even supposing her honest, how could she know with any certainty that she was well. Temple was much vexed, & dreaded the worst. I dined with him, at Clifton’s, and at five, Erskine and I walked out to Dempster’s where we past a very pleasant segment of a four and twenty. Erskine has now got into a way of going to taverns with one Fitzgerald,4 and other riotous Gentlemen, which I don’t like.

THURSDAY 19 MAY

Dress & break[fast] — then bring up Journ neat & when that is done, fall to Hume & learn command of self, & give promise to Temp[le] about never touch Girl in Street. At 1 Go to Baldwin & talk & give in large note to Wilkie & in a week or so after the Epigram or rather the Scratch.1 Put letters in Post — Dine Clifton’s. Take Capt. Temp[le] at 5 to Chelsea to see Johnson[.]2 Give in note to N[orthumberland] House[.] try Nanny. Learn retenué. Break[fast] Gar[rick] when Pub: appears.3

Mr. James Coutts told me that he & his brother4 & Mr. Cochrane were to dine with a Mr. Trotter[,] Upholsterer[,]5 a particular friend[,] and that he never went thither without carrying somebody along with him; So he insisted that I should go. I accordingly went & was introduced to Mr. Trotter who is originally from Scotland, but has been here so long, that he is become quite an Englishman. He is a Batchelor[,] an honest hearty good-humoured fellow. The Company were all Scottish except an american Lady[,] wife to Mr. Elliot[,] a son of Lord Minto’s[,]6 Mr. Stewart formerly the noted Provost of Edinburgh7 and some more of these kind of old half-english gentry. We had a good dinner, & plenty of Wine. I resolved to be merry while I could, & soon see whether the foul fiend of the Genitals had again prevailed. We were plain and hearty & comfortable; much better than the people of high fashion. There was a Miss Rutherfoord there[,] a Scotch Girl who had been long in America.8 She & I chatted very neatly. We stayed & drank tea & Coffee, and at seven, being in high glee I called upon Miss Watts whom I found by herself, neatly drest & looking very well. I was free & easy with her, & begged that she would drink a glass of Wine with me, at the Shakespear,9 which she complied with. I told her my name was MacDonald and that I was a Scotch highlander. She said she liked them much; as they had allways spirit and generosity. We were shown into a handsom room, and had a bottle of choice Sherry. We sat near two hours and became very chearfull & agreable to each other. I told her with polite freedom, Madam, I tell you honestly I have no Money to give you, but if you allow me favours without it, I shall be much obliged to you. She smiled & said she would. Her maid then brought her a message that a particular friend from the Country was waiting for her; so that I was obliged to give her up, this night, as I determined to give her no money. She left me pleased & said she hoped to have the pleasure of my company at tea when it was convenient. This I faithfully promised, & took as a good sign of her willingness to establish a friendly communication with me. I then sallied forth to the Piazzas in rich flow of animal spirits, and burning with fierce desire. I met two very pretty little Girls, who asked me to take them with me. ‘My Dear Girls’ said I — ‘I am a poor fellow. I can give you no money. But if you chuse to have a glass of wine and my company, and let us be gay & obliging to each other, without money, I am your Man.’ They agreed with great good humour. So back to the Shakespear I went. ‘Waiter’ said I, ‘I have got here a couple of human beings, I dont know how they’ll do.’ I’ll look, your honour (cried he) & with inimitable effrontery stared them in the face, & then cried they’ll do very well. What said I, are they good fellow-creatures? bring them up, then. We were shown into a good room & had a bottle of Sherry before us in a minute. I surveyed my Seraglio & found them both good subjects for amorous play. I toyed with them, & drank about & sung ‘Youth’s the season’10 and thought myself Captain Macheath: and then I solaced my existence with them, one after the other, according to their Seniority. I was quite raised, as the phrase is. Thought I was in a London Tavern, the Shakespear’s head, enjoying high debauchery, after my sober winter. I parted with my Ladies politely & came home in a glow of spirits.

FRIDAY 20 MAY

Dress & break[fast] home[.] Then bring up Journ. & at 1 go out & call Lord Loudoun1 &c. Then Eglint[oune]’s & dine; & if not, Clifton’s with Temp[le]: set just value on friend, & now study to attain retenué & dignity & read Hume; & then Sully’s Memoirs. Make love to Nanny & stay safe at home. Call for Sr. Roderick & Mr. Trotter. In short, establish good stile of living. Give Temp[le] promise no more street whores.

My blood still thrilled with pleasure. I breakfasted with Macpherson, who read me some of the highland poems in the original. I then went to Lord Eglintoune’s who was highly entertained with my last night’s Exploits, & insisted that I should dine with him, after having walked in Hyde Park, with Macpherson, who was railing against the human species, & in vast discontent. After dinner My Lord & I went to Ranelagh in his chariot by ourselves, where he introduced me to a Mrs. Wattman2 a young, married Lady extremely pretty & agreable. We drank tea & chatted well. I met Lady Margaret Hume, whom I had realy used ill in not waiting upon her one Sunday evening as I engaged to do.3 I apologised for myself by saying that I was an odd man. She seemed to understand my worth, & said it was a pity that I should just be lost in the common stream of people here. I went home & supt with Lord Eglintoune.

SATURDAY 21 MAY

For heaven’s sake, think now that if you dont take care, you’re gone for ever. Sit in all morning & bring up Journ well; so as to have week clear with it’s warm transactions. At 2 call Temp[le] confess errors, & not only resolve but promise, So as to be under his power. In the mean time acquire dignity — Think of living abroad, & in short try all ways.

I dined in the City with my honest friend Cochrane, and in the afternoon, drank tea & sat a long time with Temple, who was in fine frame, and talked to me seriously of getting out of a course of dissipation & rattling, & of acquiring regularity and reserve, in order to attain dignity of character, & happiness. He had much weight with me, and I resolved to be in earnest to pursue the course which he admired.1

SUNDAY 22 MAY

Dress & break[fast] immed. Then St. Paul’s, & be noble. Think you’re now at last begun to do well — So be steady. After service Temp[le]’s — & then Douglas’s & be fine there: & read Chron[icle]. Come off at 7 & go Donaldson’s — Be retenué — Bid him send for Skiffnesh Bundle1 tomorrow before 11 — Resolve in all forenoons to read & at night Journ. Consult Douglas about Girl.2 Make quiet love Nanny, & pray disappear forthnight after review3 — Go not flex[ney] Monday but anothr. Never lie out at night.

I went to St. Andrew’s Church in Holbourn which is a very fine building. At one end of it is a window of very elegant painted glass.4 I was in an excellent frame, & heard Service with true devotion. I dined at Douglas’s very hearty. There is a dinner there every Sunday for Captain Blair — young Douglas of Douglas, young Stewart[,] nephew to Douglas,5 and their own son[,] all Westminster Scholars[,] and I believe I shall allways too make one.

I past the evening at Temple’s very well. Temple has so much good sense[,] good temper and steadiness, that he makes the best friend in the world[,] a character truly great.

MONDAY 23 MAY

Dress for one day in the pink1 till black bretches mended — & then old frock till June. Then have it drest &c. — Break[fast] fine today wt. Muffins. Then Nichols — then Exhibition — then call old Ersk[ine]2 — then Clifton’s — then Miss Watts & home at night for journ — Then settle in each forenoon & attain true character. be much wt. Temple — Pay washerwoman 2 Weeks — Break[fast] Garrick morn[ing] of [P]ublic [Advertiser].

Temple and his Brother and Captain Blair breakfasted with me. Then Temple & I called for Nichols, with whom we went to see the Exhibition of the Artists in Spring Garden, where we were well amused. We walked out to Kensington, and stroled thro’ the delightfull Gardens. It is a glorious thing for the King to keep such walks so near the Metropolis, open to all his subjects. We were very calm & happy. Our conversation was mild & agreable. I dined with Dempster, having engaged to meet Doctor Blair & Macpherson at his house. The Sublime Savage (as I call Macpherson) was very outrageous today; throwing out wild sallies against all established opinions. We were very merry. He & I & Blair walked into town together. I brought on the subject of reserve and dignity of behaviour. Macpherson cursed at it, & Blair said he did not like it. It was unnatural, & did not show the weakness of humanity. In my opinion, however[,] it is a noble quality[;] it is sure to beget respect & to keep impertinence at a distance. No doubt (as Blair affirmed) one must give up a good deal of social mirth. But this I think should not be too much indulged except among particular friends. Blair & I went & sat a while by ourselves in Prince’s Street Coffeehouse & had a serious conversation.

TUESDAY 24 MAY

Dress immed — then Hume — or bring up Journ fairly. In till 2. Then Temp[le] & Pie in room.1 Then Miss Watts Tea & call Temp[le] after. Get Shill[ing]s from Temp[le,] Nichols & young Temple. Resolve keep to Plan of Guards & acquire behaviour by habit more & more. & be sure to be regular & be much at home. Try Nanny & never street.2 Get some white thread Stockings

I received a very polite letter from Mr. Thornton one of the Authors of the Connoisseur,3 informing me that he had written the Criticism on Erskine and Boswell’s Letters in The Public Advertiser, to which I had in return for their civility, sent a little Essay, begging to know who had spoken so favourably of us.4 Mr. Thornton said he should be happy in our acquaintance. I wrote to him my thanks & said I would call upon him at eleven o clock, which I did & found him a well-bred agreable man, lively & odd. He had about £15000 left him by his Father, was bred to Physic,5 but was fond of writing. So he employs himself in that way. In a little, Mr. Wilkes came in[,] to whom I was introduced, as I also was to Mr. Churchill; Wilkes is a lively facetious man. Churchill a rough blunt fellow[,] very clever. Lloyd6 too was there: So that I was just got into the middle of the London Geniuses. They were highspirited & boisterous; but were very civil to me, & Wilkes said he would be glad to see me in George Street. From this chorus which was rather too outrageous & profane I went & waited upon Mr. Samuel Johnson, who received me very courteously.7 He has chambers in the Inner Temple where he lives in Literary state, very solemn and very slovenly. He had some people with him, & when they left him, I rose too. But he cried ‘No — Don’t go away.’ Sir (said I) — I am affraid that I intrude upon you. It is benevolent to allow me to sit & hear you. He was pleased with this Compliment which I sincerely pay’d him, and he said he was obliged to any Man who visited him. I was proud to sit in such Company. He said that mankind had a great aversion at intellectual employment. But even supposing knowledge easily attained, most people were equaly content to be ignorant. Moral good depends on the motive from which we act. If I fling half a crown at a Beggar with intention to break his head, and he picks it up & buys victuals with it, the Physical effect is good, but with respect to me the Action is very wrong. In the same way religious services if not performed with an intention to please God, avail us nothing. As our Saviour saith of people who perform them from other motives, verily they have their reward.8 The Christian Religion has very strong evidences. No doubt it appears in some degree strange to reason. But in History we have many undoubted facts against which a priori in the way of ratiocination, we have more arguments than we have for them[;] but then testimony has great weight & casts the ballance. I would recommend Grotius9 — Doctor Pearse on Miracles10 — & Doctor Clark.11

I listened to this great Oracle with much satisfaction, & as I feel myself uneasy by reason of Scepticism, I had great comfort in hearing so able an Advocate for Revelation, & I resolved to read the Books he mentioned. He prest me to stay a second time, which I did. He said he went out at four in the afternoon & did not come home, for most part, till two in the morning. I asked him if he did not think it wrong to live so, & not make use of his talents. He said it was a bad habit. He said Garrick was the first man in the world for sprightly conversation.

I begged that he would favour me with his company at my lodgings, some evening. He promised he would. I then left him & he shook me cordialy by the hand. Upon my word, I am very fortunate. I shall cultivate this acquaintance. Temple & I dined at Clifton’s. Bob[,] the Captain his Brother[,] is allways with us. He is a fine spirited Boy. Much of a Gentleman. He has taken a particular liking to me. We past the evening with Nichols. Claxton was there, & Morris12 a young man of fortune & learning & worth tho’ uncouth manners. However, he is one of Temple’s set. I am happy to be amongst them. The Evening went well on.

WEDNESDAY 25 MAY

Begin steady to bring up journ & stop not till 2 So as to have your last rich scenes in good order — Then you can read Hume afterwards. See Thornton & mention your liking for paper essays & if genteel the proffits. Break[fast] Garrick tomorrow & then get money from Love. Go on wt. Geniuses moderately — Call Wilkes & leave card wt. full directions.1 Cultivate acquaintance wt. wits to be belle esprit.2

Temple & his Brother & I dined in their chambers where we had dinner brought thinking it a more genteel & agreable way than in a Chophouse. But we found it inconvenient, & so resolved to continue constant to Clifton’s. I gave Bob a ticket to the Play,3 & my worthy friend & I talked seriously. He advised me to force myself to be reserved & grave in a greater degree, otherwise, I would just be Jamie Boswell, without any respect. And he said he imagined that my journal did me harm, as it made me hunt about for adventures to adorn it with, whereas I should endeavour to be calm & studious and regular in my conduct, in order to attain by habit a proper consistency of conduct. No doubt consistency of conduct is of the utmost importance. But I cannot find fault with this my Journal, which is far from wishing for extravagant adventures, and is as willing to receive my silent & serious Meditations, as my loud & boisterous Rhodomontades. Indeed I do think the keeping of a Journal a very excellent scheme, if judiciously executed. To be sure, it may take up too much time from more serious concerns. But I shall endeavour to keep it with as much conciseness as possible.

THURSDAY 26 MAY

Rise soon — after solace of warm bed — Dress and break[fast] Garrick, & take Public [Advertiser] in pocket. Then call Eglintoune’s & fix dinner & also push commission. Then call Old Ersk[ine] & young Bosville & Sir Roderick &c. & at night be sure to be home, & bring up journ. well. & on friday begin Hume. Push Love. Preserve retenué & determine no more street whores but be in good health — Anecdotes Malloch1

I breakfasted with Lord Eglintoune and also dined with him. Honest Captain Blair was with us, who is a very worthy fellow; And yet he & I very seldom meet in this great City. I went quietly home at night.

FRIDAY 27 MAY

Malloch’s Anecdotes. Dress immed — Then break[fast] Sir Roderick or young Bosville & at 11 Eglint[oune]’s & have picture done[.]1 Be in very soon at night — you feel the good of it. Come in each night[.] consult wt. Mrs. Terrie about Cheese & Butter & wine for Sunday2 & tumblers from the Coffeehouse. Be composed, & be sure to acquire good habits & also to read &c. Get gilt paper — By no means go down3

I breakfasted with Lady Frances Erskine. Mr. Erskine her husband is now in town. I sat a good while with him, yesterday; But he was abroad today. I dined with Lord Eglintoune, & took as my guest a Mr. Gascoigne,4 a great Catch-singer, & we were wond’rous merry,5 as the Song goes. Yesterday, I took as my Guest, the Earl of Kelly6 and we had much laughing.

SATURDAY 28 MAY

Dress — Then call L[ove] & see if you get any money to free you from your promise,1 which by the by was not limited to any time for performance. Then go to Garrick’s. Be lively & easy yet retenué & fix a night before he leaves the town.2 Then call Erskine. Then Donaldson about franks & Skiffness. & then Flexney — & then Woodfall3 — & Child’s & Temple’s. Home at 7 & write letters many. Determine Malloch. Be retenué & master of yourself, & dont leave London, or you’re gone.

I breakfasted with Mr. Coutts who is a sensible mild friendly man. His brother Mr. Thomas is a very good fellow and has a great deal of little humour and fun. I then walked to Cochrane’s & got an order4 on Sir Charles Asgill5 for my money. I am realy angry with that fellow Love, who has put me off so long, & never makes any Apology or seems to be concerned about the Matter. I dined at Dolly’s, where I met with George Home of Kames. I then came & sat a while with Temple: And then went home & wrote my letters. I continue to write to Sir David Dalrymple, every Saturday.

SUNDAY 29 MAY

Break[fast] home, & then go to St. Paul’s & then call Erskine & see Donaldson & be all day with Temple. Be home at six & prepare fire & Entertainment for Guests.1 Pay Douglas2 this week. Bid him be moderate. Be still in earnest to study proper behaviour. Have two Candles at night. And learn more & more to do well & reflect youre in London. Dont make yourself cheap.

I breakfasted with Colonel Montgomerie.3 At three o clock I went to Westminster Abbey, & the Verger politely showed me into one of the Prebend’s stalls where I sat in great state with a purple silk cushion before me. I heard service with much devotion in this magnificent and venerable Temple. I recalled the ideas of it, which I had from the Spectator.4

I dined with Lord Eglintoune. Lord Thanet, Lord Coventry & his Brother,5 and Mr. Price a welch member6 were there. It was a day truly english and genteel. I was very comfortable, and spoke a little with a manly confidence. We drank coffee, & parted about eight at night.

MONDAY 30 MAY

Rise soon & run to Dash after dress — & keep up retenué wt. him. ’Tis now time to carry it on. You’re fairly begun. Engage him to break[fast] wt. you on Wed[nesday]. At 10 Home & Bosville & be fine[.] At 11 Eglint[oune]’s & Picture till 12 Then call People till 2 & then Piazza & Miss Temple1 & behave nice & romantic & bold. Home at night. If you go Edin[bu]r[gh] youre ruind

Young Bosville of the Guards breakfasted with me; and we walked in the Park, together. I then sat at Lord Eglintoune’s, to a Miniature Painter, at his Lordship’s desire, but he proved to be a stupid, half-blind Boy.2 So I engaged him to come this day senight. He may come. But I shall not. I dined at Clifton’s with the Temples.

TUESDAY 31 MAY

Break[fast] home, & be denied & read Hume till 2 & then call Miss T[emple] & resolve just to see out this advent[ure]. Then call Temple. dine Clift[on]’s — & walk to Kensington to tea. Be fine wt. Dempst[er] & get franks — & be more retenue. Home at night & Journ & go to bed — Pay Douglas & Flex[ney] — & Barber. Order 13 to Dodsley1 today before you call Temp[le]. Prepare for Reviews on Wed[nesday] & keep good resolves to attain dignity

Bob Temple who is a handsom, spirited young Dog, has introduced himself to a Miss Temple, an exceeding pretty Girl. She is kept by a Man of £4000 a year. She is very amorous, & is kind to her favourites, without any views of interest. This is a very agreable circumstance to little Robert, who is now on half-pay, & it is no less so to me. With her permission he introduced me to her, yesterday, under the name of Mr. Howard, a distant relation of the Duke of Norfolk’s.2 I was quite charmed with her. She told him today, that She thought me very like a Gentleman. It is realy generous in Bob to do this for me. But he is very fond of me; more so than of any body except his brother. I dined at Clifton’s today; & at night was at Temple’s with Claxton; I stayed all night, as Temple was anxious till Bob came in, who had been at Vauxhall.3 I had Bob’s bed, & slept fine.

WEDNESDAY 1 JUNE

This Morning the Critical Review on our Letters came out. Erskine breakfasted with me; and in great form did we read it. They did not use us with candour; but they were less abusive, than we imagined they might be.1

I introduced the Captain to Mr. Thornton, with whom he was much pleased. We then sauntered about an hour or two. I went & dined at Lord Eglintoune’s without being invited; He made me very wellcome; But I felt myself mean somehow, & I resolved never to go in that way again. This was quite an irregular day.

THURSDAY 2 JUNE

Dress & then break[fast] & call on Landlord & Landlady & be expert — & tell future. Then Hume all forenoon till 2 & then call Miss T[emple] & if not up, fix time & when wt. her — be honest & gross — At night Kensington, if Ersk[ine] goes & ask leave to have Hume ano[the]r week and mention plan of quietness[.] Be [much] wt. Temp[le] — don’t leave Lond[on]

I am now getting into the habit of sitting at home all the morning, & reading, which composes my mind, & makes me happy all day. I dined at Clifton’s, & at four called on Miss Temple. Her keeper was there; but she spoke to me in the stair, & said she would meet me in the Park. No — she bid me call as she was going to the Park. Bob & I called but she was gone. We then walked in the park, with my friend Temple, who went home with me, and drank a little Negoes. We were rather jaded & dull. Yet we made a shift to entertain ourselves.

FRIDAY 3 JUNE

Dress & break[fast] Home & Journ all forenoon & at 2 call Ersk[ine] then Miss T[emple] a minute — & if not in, appoint 8 at night. Then go to Dempster’s &c Try a little more with Nannie. Wear Shoes — Keep up retenué and try to come into proper way & be grave wt. Bob Temple. Claxton’s at night. See about cane1 on Sat[urday] — & write to Love monday. Write soon to Cairnie.

Erskine & I walked out to Kensington, & dined with Dempster. After getting into or studying to get into a proper well-behaved plan, with the assistance of my friend Temple, the Scotch tones & rough & roaring freedom of manners which I heard today, disgusted me a good deal. I am allways resolving to study propriety of conduct. But I never persist with any steadiness. I hope, however, to attain it. I shall perhaps go abroad a year or two, which may confirm me in proper habits. In the mean time let me strive to do my best.

SATURDAY 4 JUNE

Dress break[fast] home & Journ a little; & write Sr. Dav[id] — Then Eglint[oune]’s & see him drest. Then Miss T[emple]’s. & if not in appoint time at night[.] Then go to City & see about Cane. Then Temp[le] — & dine Clifton’s[.] Then rove about all afternoon & see illuminations.1 Now resolve to be in earnest to attain proper conduct with Temp[le]’s advice & see to settle some plan & see about Commission in mean time — ’twill do no harm

Bob Temple breakfasted with me; & I carried him with me to Lord Eglintoune’s. I dined at Clifton’s. The two Temples drank tea with me. It was the King’s Birth-night and I resolved to be a Blackguard & to see all that was to be seen. I drest myself in my second-mourning suit2 in which I had been powdered, many months, dirty buckskin bretches & black Stockings, a Shirt of Lord Eglintoune’s which I had worne two days, & little round hat with tarnished silver lace, belonging to a disbanded officer of the Royal Volunteers.3 I had in my hand an old oaken stick battered against the pavement. And was not I a compleat Blackguard? I went to the park, picked up a low Brimstone,4 called myself a Barber, & agreed with her for Sixpence, went to the bottom of the park, arm in arm, & dipped my machine in the Canal,5 & performed most manfully. I then went as far as St. Paul’s Church-yard roaring along. And then came to Ashley’s Punch-house & drank three threepenny Bowls.6 In the Strand, I picked up a little profligate wretch & gave her sixpence. She allowed me entrance. But the miscreant refused me performance. I was much stronger than her; and volens nolens7 pushed her up against the Wall. She however gave a sudden spring from me; & screaming out, a parcel of more Whores & Soldiers came to her relief. ‘Brother Soldiers (said I) should not a halfpay Officer r-g-r for sixpence? And here has she used me so & so.’ I got them on my side & I abused her in blackguard stile, & then left them. At Whitehall I picked up another girl to whom I called myself a highwayman, & told her I had no Money; & begged she would trust me. But she would not. My Vanity was somewhat gratify’d tonight, that notwithstanding of my dress, I was allways taken for a Gentleman in disguise. I came home about two o clock, much fatigued.

SUNDAY 5 JUNE

The fatigues of last night rendered me very lazy and disposed to relish ease. I therefore caused the Maid make tea for me, and I breakfasted in bed, which I think a piece of high Luxury. I found myself calm & indolent & meditative, so I stretched my weary limbs at full length, & lay till near three o clock, when My friend Temple and his Brother came in. They were diverted to see me solacing myself. I then got up, & drest, and went to Miss Temple’s whom I found at home by herself. She was in fine spirits; gave me Strawberries and cream, & used every endearing amourous blandishment. But alas! my last night’s rioting & this morning’s indulgence joined with my being realy in love with her had quite enervated me, and I had no tender inclinations. I made an Apology very easily; and she was very good, & said it happened very commonly after drinking. However, I was much vexed. The Temples & I drank tea & Coffee at the Piazza, and we were very comfortable.

MONDAY 6 JUNE

Dress & break[fast] in & bring up Journ. cleverly. Eat hearty break[fast] — strong tea & only 3 dishes. Dont go to blind painter. He’s a forward boy. But as man of fashion forget.1 — Be denied. Stay in all forenoon till half past two Then if things stand2 call at 3 — & if not in — Dine Harris’s on Mutton boiled or roasted & Porter — & no wines — & wash mouth. Pay Landlady, write Cairnie. If not well send Temple3

I must not omitt to record in this my Journal, a most curious transaction. We have now in the house where I lodge, a neat little Maid called Nancy newly imported from Cumberland. I had given her a frank of Lord Eglintoune’s in which she had inclosed a letter to a companion in the Country, but not having directed it fully, it was brought to My Lord, who opened it when I was with him. He gave it to me, & put me upon the scheme of making her believe that I had the second sight.4 Accordingly, I picked out many circumstances from her letter about her friends, and her journey to town, and all her concerns which I solemnly told her, & for two days, she firmly believed that I had intelligence from the Devil. I then let her into the Secret.

Nothing remarkable happened this day; and from henceforth, I am determined to show more respect to this my Journal. I shall never set down the mere common trifling occurrences of life: But say nothing at all, except when I have something worth while.

TUESDAY 7 JUNE

Dress & break[fast] & learn to rise soon each morn to brace nerves. Then fall to Journ & resolve this day to bring it fairly up. Write till 2. Then Bob comes, & be moderately chearfull with him. & get affairs settled for tonight.1 Write to Love strongly Sir &c. & threaten him. Write Cairnie[.] Study retenué.

I just read, eat[,] drank & walked.

WEDNESDAY 8 JUNE

Rise at 7 & dress — then take franks in pocket. Call Coutts break[fast] & get some. Then Col. Montgom[erie] & get some. Then Eglint[oune] & get some.1 Then call Temple & show letter2 & take his advice. Mention to him the hopes of being in Parlmt. the pleasing your Father &c. But mention also 2 years abroad first[.] Then, you can be here every spring. & have Temp[le] down every harvest.3 & live in a respectfull way[.] But, don’t be rash.

I breakfasted with Mr. Coutts and I sauntered about idly all forenoon; which gave me pain. At night I received a very kind letter from my Father, in which he told me that he would allow me to follow any Profession that I pleased, but at the same time, said that the Army was but a poor scheme, & that if I would pursue the law tho’ moderately, & be in the stile of his eldest Son, that he would give me all encouragement. It was a most sensible & indulgent Letter. It made me think seriously, & I considered that I had now experienced how little I could depend on the favour of the great, which when only founded on personal liking, is very slight. I considered too that I could have no prospect of rising in the Army. That my being in that way contrary to my Parents’ advice was uphill work, & that I could not long be fond of it. I considered that by getting into the plan of civil life, I should have all things smooth & easy, be on a respectfull footing & of consequence in my own country, & please my worthy Father, who tho’ somewhat narrow in his notions, is one of the best Men in the World.

THURSDAY 9 JUNE

I communicated my designs to Temple who approved much of my Resolution. I however determined to insist on first going abroad, as I am resolved to maintain a grave & respectfull character. Temple said that I might live like Sir David Dalrymple at Edinburgh: be at London three months in the year, and live more comfortably, than if I pushed the scheme of the Guards. I dined with Lord Eglintoune. At night, I told Doctor Pringle my intentions.

FRIDAY 10 JUNE

Rise 7. Do this each morn. & jump up when you wake. Dress & have Crooks[hanks] at break[fast] & be moderate wt. him. When he goes fall to Hume till 2. Then either go with Temple, or walk to City — Be in at night. & bring up Journ. & write Sr. Dav[id] & Mcquhae & Father short — & say you’ll write fully, by and by. Think serious[ly] on being of consequence like Sr. Dav[id]. The ideas of John Smith, & Niddery’s Wynd concerts & the Miss Elliots of Minto are like the seven dials here.1 You will do well if you promise firmly to Temple

Crookshanks breakfasted with me. He is a fine, lively, extravagant fellow. I shall give a specimen of him. — ‘Mr. Boswell, you could not deceive My Lord Auchinleck. Such a sensible man[,] by the Lord[,] can pick the truth from falshood as easily as one picks the Strawberrys from among the leaves.’ ‘Poh! Poh! What is it to me that Lord Bute is a Scotsman? If he had dropt from the brains of a Woodcock in his passage from the Moon, I should have thought him equaly my Countryman.’

At night I went to Chelsea & saw Johnson2 ride, standing upon one, & then two horses at full gallop; with all his feats of agility. I was highly diverted. It was a true English entertainment. The Horses moved about to the tune of Shilinagarie;3 for Music[,] such as it is, makes allways a part of John’s Bull’s public amusement. While I stood gazing about, whom did I suddenly perceive but — Miss Sally Forrester? my first Lady of Venus’s Bedchamber whom I have sought for, eagerly, but could never find. I approached her with something like the air of a Tragedy Hero. She immediately knew me. I felt realy a fine romantic Sensation at meeting her. Miss Simson who lodged in the house with her,4 & was very civil to me, was with her tonight. We went into the Star & Garter, and I treated them with tea. We resumed5 our former Adventures. I cannot express the curious feelings which I had, when I looked back three years, called up my ideas then; & all that has happened to me since. Alas! my ideas have not now that giddy fervour which they had when I was first in London. However, I now walk on surer ground. She said she was married to Captain Peter Grant a Scotch Officer,6 and she would not allow me to renew my joy. But she promised to meet me at her Companion’s house[,] who also said she was married[, and] called herself Mrs. Tredwell.7 We walked into town, together. The evening was delicious, & I glowed with pleasing Imagination. I felt a great degree of satisfaction at thinking that my Father would now be happy, & all things go well, & that I might indulge whim, with a higher relish. I parted from them at Spring-Gardens, & promised to see my dear Sally; They surely jok’d about their marriages. I then called on Miss Temple. She pretended that she had waited two hours at home for me; said she was busy, & could not admit me. I was picqued, & resolved never again to go near her, except she let me know that I should be exceedingly wellcome. I past the evening very pleasantly with my friend Temple.

SATURDAY 11 JUNE

Break[fast] Home. Then write Father and Sr. Dav[id]1 & Mcquhae & at 2 call Temple[.] Then go to City & dine & be back to Temp[le] at 5 and from this day give over dissipation & have retenué & learn to do well. Call Dun about Box.2 Read each forenoon till 2. At 9 see Pringle & fix.3 Then see Eglint[oune] & be silent to all, & keep counsel.4

Bob Temple breakfasted with me. I dined at Mr. Cochrane’s.

SUNDAY 12 JUNE

Dress — call Blair & take him to Temp[le]’s & then go to Church at 11 — Be on your guard serious from this day, & behave with propriety to Captn. Temple and avoid Childishness. Dine Pringle & be fine — & at 6 Eglint[oune]’s & settle affairs with him about Lord Bute,1 & Tuesday’s Music.2 Resolve read much & attain self command & you’ll do well. Now try in good earnest. Get letter to Eglint[oune] from Scotland and cause print in Advertiser[.]3 See Dun about cane.

Captain Blair & I breakfasted at Temple’s, after which I went to St. Sepulchre’s Church upon Snow-hill.4 I dined at Doctor Pringle’s, where was the celebrated Monsieur de la Condamine.5 He was very old, & so deaf that he could hear only by the assistance of a horn. He said he knew Madam Maintenon.6 But that she was a very discontented woman. He said that Helvetius de l’esprit was a dangerous book7 for Women & young People, whose principles were unfixed. Pringle said ‘if I thought Deism8 the true Religion, I would not say so to my Wife.’

MONDAY 13 JUNE

Rise 7 Dress & break[fast] home. Receive Dun & Everdale1 & Washerwoman; & read Hume till 2. Let this be a week of tryal like the Scholars of Pythagoras2 — Pray consider youv’e a whole character to attain. Silence is the main point. & to be like Sr. D[avid] but more easy. Tuesday write Fathr.3 & Johnston & Mcquhae.4 Dine Clif[ton]’s each day this week & have Temp[le]s at tea. Nanny’s husband.5 No more low wretches.

Temple & I came up by water, from the Temple-stairs6 to Whitehall. This is the first time, this season, that I have been upon the silver Thames. It is very pleasant to sail upon it; and I shall do it oftener. We drank tea cordialy at my lodgings; and my friend gave me much good Advice. At night, Lord Eglintoune & Bob Temple called in My Lord’s coach & carried us to Vauxhall, which was quite delicious. There was a quarrel between a Gentleman and a Waiter[;] a great crowd gathered round & roared out a Ring — a Ring; which is the signal for making room for the parties to box it out. My spirits rose, & I was exerting myself with much vehemence. At last the Constable came to quell the Riot. I siezed his Batton in a good-humoured way which made him laugh & I rapp’d upon the People’s heads, bawling out ‘Who will resist the Peace? A Ring. a Ring.’ However all would not do. My Lord brought us home in his Coach; & the Temples supt with me, on a slight Repast.

TUESDAY 14 JUNE

Break[fast] & borrow tea Then Hume till 2 & leave note to Dash, & go Temp[le]. Resolve be on guard & acquire &c See Johnson oft & all the Literati1 And also Places round London, so as to talk of ’em abroad. Pray give promise to Temple of behaviour & be secret from Bob.

I should have mentioned yesterday, that I waited on Mr. Johnson; who was very civil to me. He said that such a Man as Johnson the Rider should be encouraged; as his performances showed the extent of the human powers in one instance, & so tended to raise our opinion of the Nature of Man, & that he showed the great effects of industry and application. So that every Man might hope that by giving as much application, altho’ perhaps he might never ride three horses at a time, or dance upon the wire, yet he might be equaly expert in whatever profession he chose to pursue. Such is the views that Mr. Johnson has of the most trivial matters! I never am with this great man, without feeling myself bettered & rendered happier. He shook me by the hand, at parting, & asked me why I did not call oftener. I said I was affraid of being troublesom. He said I was not; & he was very glad to see me. Can I help being vain of this? Nothing happened today.

WEDNESDAY 15 JUNE

I breakfasted with Lord Eglintoune. We then walked in the green Park. He said I was the only man he ever knew who had a vast deal of vanity, & yet was not in the least degree offensive. I dined with him today. He had some Newmarket People with him. We sung some catches, & were very jolly, as the saying is.

THURSDAY 16 JUNE

Dress & recollect 23 pages last night. Then either review in Hyde park1 or Brooksbanks2 somewhere to break[fast]. Have franks in Pocket & call Ersk[ine] at 11 & walk Slow to Kensingt[on] & try to be retenué & well-behaved in moderation. Dine soon, much Cyder & light things3 & dont speak of self. Put Lett[er]s in Post4 e’er you go out[.] At night Temp[le] & be fine.

Erskine & I went out to Dempster’s & past the whole day very merrily. They were glad to hear that I was upon good terms with my Father.

FRIDAY 17 JUNE

Get guinea from Mr. Terrie. Then go & break[fast] Bosville & cultivate;1 & then Buy tea & come home at 12 & bring up Hume. At 3 Temp[le] & tea at home, & then bring up journ. Resolve to acquire right habits. Get Erskine’s Institutes & read; & stay much in. See Johnson on Sat[urday]. See him 2 & 3 times a week & have him wt. you next week, & see for Garrick.2 Pray take care. Be in no hurry — Get Love’s coin.

I breakfasted at Mr. James Erskine’s. The day was trifled away.

SATURDAY 18 JUNE

Dress — get guinea from T[errie] — Then break[fast] somewhere — At 1 call Johnston.1 Be fine & appoint him to Sup with you next week. Think of telling him your imbecillity — your disposition to ridicule &c. & take his advice — go Ersk[ine]2 & dine, & say little so as no contradiction. Sr. Dav[id] fine & with Temple’s leave, Tothil Street3

See Pringle soon[.] Pray dont be in a hurry — & don’t go down4 — ’twill ruin you. Be first abroad — You have Johnston & Wilkes & Churchill &c to be well with. Next week, Swear to be in all forenoon & have painter here. & promise never mention spleen

I breakfasted with Colonel Montgomerie. Then stroled about, with young Graham of Garthmore.5 I dined with Mr. James Erskine, & I was very vivacious; yet kept myself in moderate bounds. I am happy every Saturday, in writing to Sir David Dalrymple. It allways puts me in a good frame. At night I took a street-walker into privy Garden,6 & indulged sensuality. The wretch picked my pocket of my handkerchief; & then swore that she had not. When I got home, I was shocked to think that I had been intimately united with a low abandoned perjured pilfering creature. I determined to do so no more; but if the Cyprian fury7 should seize me to participate my amorous flame with a genteel Girl.

SUNDAY 19 JUNE

Break[fast] young Bosville or Coffeehouse & go to Bloomsbury Church.1 At 2 Temple, & at 3 Clif[ton]’s & home at 5 & journ till 8 & be in all night to bring it up — Take Temp[le] privately by himself & own your depravity, & how vexed you are & promise never more to indulge low venery. This last Thief & monster may cure you completely. Attain self-government & please father. Monday Blair & Wardour Street.2

I sat a good part of the forenoon at Erskine’s, with Macpherson, and Scott who writes an Evening’s Walk near the Royal Palace of Linlithgow.3 At Two, I breakfasted at the Somerset,4 & at three went to St. Paul’s. Mr. Cowper[,]5 one of the Gentlemen of the Chapel Royal, who belongs to the Choir of this Cathedral, & whom I have seen at Lord Eglintoune’s, gave me a good seat by himself;6 & after service which elevated my mind, I drank tea with him; then walked in the Park. Then supt at Temple’s.

MONDAY 20 JUNE

Dress & go wt. Temp[le] to Blair & leave word for Washerwoman to leave cloaths — Be moderate at Blair’s. At 12 Wardour Street next to King’s Arms1 & after that Reynolds &c.2 & then Clift[on]’s & then buy Hogarth3 & at night — Foote’s & think on Mrs. Brooke[.]4 Buy tea — Write to Love — After this day, in all forenoon & study retenué to please worthy father

Temple & I breakfasted with Captain Blair: After which, we went & saw Reynolds’s Portraits which pleased us much. I then went with Erskine & had some games at Billiards, not for money. It is a pretty game. I scarcely ever play at it; as I would grow too fond of it. At night I went to the opening of Mr. Foote’s little Theatre in the Hay-market, for this season,5 with the Minor6 in which I saw Wilkinson for the first time, a most admirable Mimic.7 The mayor of Garrat[,]8 a new piece[,] was also played. I laughed much at it. I sat by Churchill just at the Spikes.9 I was vain to be seen talking with that great Bard. After the Play I carried Bob Temple home to a Repast.

TUESDAY 21 JUNE

Rise soon & go buy tea at Mee’s1 ¼ of a pound. Then call Blair & home & have Ersk[ine] at break[fast]. & talk of forming other plans; & of his sending up yr. letters & of his wanting to know the success & all the news &c.2 At 1 Sit picture & then Johnson — & then Clif[ton]’s &c. & at night bring up journ — & then D Hume all the week & pray learn retenue. Keep Bob right & roger Miss T.3

I went to Love’s in the Evening & received £10 of his debt to me. I supt with him. He was free & ill-bred.

WEDNESDAY 22 JUNE

Doctor Boswell1 is now in town. I breakfasted with him today. He was very happy to see me. We walked about all the forenoon. It was a curious thing to see the Doctor in London. At night Temple and Bob & Claxton supt with me. We were moderately chearfull.

THURSDAY 23 JUNE

Mark Accts & bring up Journ till 2 — Then picture then Muffins &c at some coffeehouse & home & read Hume — Then call Miss Owen1 & engage her on friday night — & be just fine once e’er you leave England. Remember you’ve now begun to pursue plan.2 Wash feet at Miss O[wen]’s. Be much wt. Doctor.

Dempster and Erskine breakfasted with me. I then stroled about with them up & down the City; & then we went out to Dempster’s & din’d. In the evening, we walked in Kensington Gardens, and talked of being abroad, & what was to be acquired. I said I wanted to get rid of folly & to acquire sensible habits. They laughed.

FRIDAY 24 JUNE

Dress careless & run to Doctor’s fast, & then go see Review1 — Leave orders break[fast] home. Be in till 2 & then call Low Painter,2 & make Apology, & sit it out. Be fine wt. Doctor; & resolve to be much wt. him & to be quite friendly &c — Come home at 7 & bring up Journ. & on Sat[urday] sit in at Hume. Now attain command of self & studious plan and retenué & dont leave England rashly but like Father3

The Doctor breakfasted with me. I dined at Lord Eglintoune’s, with Lord Litchfield[,] Chancellor of the University of Oxford[,]4 a most humane agreable Man; and Doctor Jardine5 Minister at Edinburgh, a hard-headed jolly Dog. We were very well.

SATURDAY 25 JUNE

Finish Journ. Then Hume till 2 — Then call Claxt[on] & Jardine & leave Cards & then Temple & Cliff[ton]’s — & then home & write Sr. Dav[id]1 & Father fully enquiring. What books to take &c. & no papers — but leave ’em wt. Johnst[on].2 Call Dun & get note of Ship & horn nailed on3 — Call Miss Owen & appoint next week some day. Not on friday — cure whims. Make her be certain as to safety. Pay Douglas[;] have but 1 Guinea when you go & Sh[illing for] Maid. Be grave even now.

Mr. Johnson dined at Clifton’s in the same room with me. He & an Irishman got into a dispute about the reason of some part of mankind being black. ‘Three ways have been taken to account for it. Either that they are the Posterity of Ham who was cursed.4 Or that God at first created two kinds of Men, one black & another White; or that by the heat of the Sun the skin is scorched and so gets the sooty hue. This matter has been much canvassed among Naturalists. But has never been brought to any certain Issue’. The Irishman grew very hot, & Johnson just rose up & quietly walked off. The Teague5 said he had a most ungainly figure and an affectation of Pomposity, unworthy of a Man of Genius. At nine in the evening Mr. Johnson & I went to the Mitre Tavern in Fleet-street.6 He was vastly obliging to favour me with his Company. I was quite proud to think on whom I was with. He said Colley Cibber was by no means a Blochead; but by arrogating to himself too much, he was in danger of losing what he realy had.7 He said his friends gave out that he intended his Birth-day Odes should be bad;8 but that was not the case; for a few years before he died, he showed me (said Johnson) one of them with the greatest care, & I made some corrections. Sir, he had them many months by him.9 Indeed Cibber’s familiar stile was better than that which Whitehead10 has taken. That grand Nonsence is terrible. Whitehead is but a little man, to write verses inscribed to Players.11 I shall mark Johnson’s conversation without any order or without marking my questions: only now & then, I shall take up the form of dialogue.

Sir[,] I do not think Mr. Gray a superior sort of Poet. He has not a bold Imagination, nor much command of Words. The Obscurity in which he has involved himself will not make us think him sublime. His Elegy in a Churchyard has a happy Selection of Images. But I don’t like his great things. His Ode which begins

Ruin sieze thee ruthless King

Perdition on thy banners wait12

has been celebrated for it’s abrupt breaking off, & plunging into the subject all at once. But such arts as these have no merit but in being original. The first time is the only time that we admire them; and that Abruptness is nothing new. We have had it often before. Nay we have it in the Song of Johny Armstrong.13

There is never a man in the North Country

To compare with Johny Armstrong.

There now you plunge into the Subject. You have no previous Narration. I then told my history to Mr. Johnson which he listened to with attention. I told him how I was a very strict Christian & was turned from that to Infidelity. But that now I had got back to a very agreable way of thinking[;] That I believed the Christian Religion; tho’ I might not be clear in many particulars. He was much pleased with my ingenuous open way; & he cried ‘Give me your hand. I have taken a liking to You.’ He then confirmed me in my belief, by showing the force of testimony, & how little we could know of final causes. So that the Objections of why was it so? or why was it not so? can avail little; & that for his part he thought all Christians whether Papists or Protestants agreed in the essential Articles; & that their differences were trivial, or were rather political than Religious.

He talked of belief in Ghosts; and he said that he made a distinction between what a Man might find out by the strength of his Imagination, & what could not possibly be found out so. Thus suppose I should think that I saw a form and heard a voice cry ‘Johnson! you are a very wicked fellow; and unless you repent, you will certainly be punished.’ This is a thought which is so deeply imprest upon my mind, that I might imagine I saw & heard so & so; and therefore I would not credit this[,] at least would not insist on your believing it. But if a form appeared, and a voice told me such a Man is dead at such a place & such an hour[:] If this proves true upon enquiry I should certainly think I had supernatural intelligence given me. He said that he himself was once a talker against Religion; for he did not think against it, but had an absence of thought. I told him all my Story. Sir said he, Your Father has been wanting to make the Man of you at twenty, which you will be at thirty. Sir, let me tell you that to be a Scotch Landlord, where you have a number of familys dependent upon, & attached to you, is perhaps as high a Situation as Humanity can arrive at. A Merchant upon Change14 with a hundred thousand pounds is nothing. The Duke of Bedford15 with all his immense fortune is but a little man in reality[.] He has no tennants who consider themselves as under his patriarchal care. Sir[,] a Father & a Son should part at a certain time of life. I never believed what my Father said. I allways thought, that he spoke ex officio, as a Priest does. Sir[,] I am a friend to Subordination. It is most conducive to the happiness of Society. There is a reciprocal pleasure in governing & being governed. Sir[,] I think you’re breaking off idle connections by going abroad is a matter of importance. I would go where there are courts, and learned men. I then complained to him how little I knew; & mentioned Study. Sir said he don’t talk of Study just now. I will put you upon a plan. It will require some time to talk of that. I put out my hand. Will you realy take a charge of me? It is very good in you, Mr. Johnson, to allow me to sit with you thus. Had I but thought some years ago, that I should pass an Evening with the Author of the Rambler! These expressions were all from the heart & he perceived that they were, and he was very complacent & said Sir I am glad we have met. I hope we shall pass many evenings and mornings too together. He said Doctor Goldsmith is one of the first men we have as an Author at present; & a very worthy man too. He has been loose in his principles. But he is coming right. Sir, said he, there is a good deal of Spain that has not been perambulated; and a Man of inferior parts to you, might give us usefull observations on that Country. This pleased me. We sat till between one & two; & finished a couple of bottles of Port. I went home in high exultation.

SUNDAY 26 JUNE

I should have mentioned that Mr. Johnson said, he thought I had a lucky escape from the Guards (of the Guards I mean) as I was past those Puerilitys. I breakfasted with Douglas, and dined with My Landlord, which brought back the ideas of the beginning of Winter. I then walked out to Islington & went to Cannonbury House, a curious old monastic Building, now let out in lodgings, where Doctor Goldsmith stays.1 I drank tea with him, and found him very chatty. He lamented however that the praise due to literary merit is allready occupied by the first Writers, who will keep it, and get the better even of the superior merit which the moderns may posess. He said David Hume was one of those who seeing the first place occupied on the right side, rather than take a second, wants to have a first in what is wrong. I supt with Lord Eglintoune.

This forenoon Mr. Cowper took me to the Chapel Royal where I had a good seat & saw the King.

MONDAY 27 JUNE

Dress & run to Review — just see King1 & be back to break[fast] — and see Dr. & at 12 call Ogilvie2 & at 2 Painter. Appoint dine Pringle Wednesday. Dine Clif[ton]’s today — & pray now begin retenué[,] cure of narrowness3 & reading. Swear in each forenoon. Bring yourself into due frame, for a week or two & then let Temple go to Cambridge.4 See Miss O[wen] Soon &c. have negoes in night.

The Doctor breakfasted with me. At night Temple[,] Claxton[,] Bob and I went to Vauxhall by water. Somehow or another, I was very low-spirited and melancholy, and could not relish that gay entertainment, and was very discontent. I left my Company, and mounting on the back of a hackney coach rattled away to Town in the attitude of a Footman. The whimsical oddity of this, the jolting of the machine, & the soft breeze of the evening made me very well again.

TUESDAY 28 JUNE

Have Ogilvie &c at Break[fast] — After which Hume — then call Miss O[wen] And send Card to Temp[le] asking him to tea here by himself in the afternoon[.] Talk over with him all things & keep him from Cam[bridge] a week longer & complain of Bob’s being a hindrance[.] You can see Painter either today or another & have not Miss O[wen] till Thursday when not engaged. beware of going too soon,1 you’re very well here[.] If you restrain high spirits twill ne’er be observed.

Temple & I drank Coffee at Will’s so often mentioned in the Spectator.2

WEDNESDAY 29 JUNE

Have Ogilvie at break[fast]. Recollect former days, Sr[.] Dav[id] & Scots Magazine & be fine wt. him — & try Contemplation. When he goes, fall to Hume & try again to get into consistent plan. At 2 D[octo]r calls, & go wt. him to Pringle’s & before Dinner, speak about abroad & low spirits; & how much give Douglas — at 8 in Park, till 9 — Then home & Journ & try to come right. Write Father, Presid[ent] & Advocate1 Thursday &c. See Heron & Sr. W — you was at their houses.2 Poor Johnst[on] is dull[.]3 get B[ob] Temp[le’]s guineas.4

The Doctor and I dined at Doctor Pringle’s. They dulled me by telling how I was to study at Utrecht for the Winter. The Doctor was weakly passionate with me for insisting on a gayer place. In the evening, my friend Erskine & I walked a while in the park. But I did not now set the same value on our outré flights, being realy bent on pursuing a grave, prudent course.

THURSDAY 30 JUNE

Write D[octo]r Break[fast] on Saturday — then hair cut — then Lett[er]s to Fathr, Pres[ident,] Advoc[ate] & Johnst[on]1 — short and plain — Then if time, Journ — Write also to J. Bruce about Race2 — At 2 call Heron & Sr. W[illiam] — Then Johns[on] — & fix friday or Saturday — Then Temp[le] — Home in afternoon to Journ. Now pray compose & be in earnest to fix. Give Hat to dress &c. & be in all frid[ay] & Sat[urday] & Temp[le] wt. you.

My friend Temple who is my great comfort in all difficulties kept up my spirits by saying that I might go to Utrecht and if I turned gloomy, might move to some more agreable Place.

FRIDAY 1 JULY

Dress neat & have Ersk[ine] at break[fast] — & Review after calling on him. Read it with relish as your last.1 Be sensible yet free wt. E[rskine] — At half an hour past 11 hasten to Temple, & hear Lord Chancellor2 & at 2 Johnston3 & at 3 Clif[ton]’s then home & Journ till 8 — & then Mitre &c. & be moderate & learn[.] Sat[urday] — Hogarth4 — Get fine tea D[octo]r & Douglas at break[fast.] Settle night wt. Thornton. Prepare for abroad — Finish Hume & settle all[.] See Heron Sat[urday] —

Mr. Johnson[,] Doctor Goldsmith and I supt together at the Mitre. I had curious ideas when I considered that I was sitting with London Authors by Profession. Goldsmith wanted too much to show away. He tryed to maintain that knowledge was not allways desireable on it’s own account; as it was often attended with inconveniencys. Johnson allowed that it might have disadvantages; but affirmed that knowledge per se was certainly an object which every man would wish to attain; altho’ perhaps he might not chuse to take the trouble necessary for attaining it. He said that Campbell who wrote the lives of the Admirals5 is a man of much knowledge and a very good share of Imagination & he told us a diverting enough anecdote, that his Wife was a Printer’s Devil6 (as the cant word is) and when she used to bring him the proofsheets, he fell in love with her, and married her. He began to lash Churchill. I said he was not a fair Judge; as Churchill was a sort of Ennemy of his.7 Sir said he, I am a very fair Judge; because he turned my ennemy when he found that I did not like his Poetry. And indeed, I have a better opinion of him now, than I had at first as he has shown more fertility than I expected. To be sure he is a tree that cannot produce true fruit. He only bears Crabs. But Sir a tree that produces a great many Crabs, is better than one which produces only a few Crabs. He said that Campbell’s Hermippus Redivivus8 is very entertaining as an account of the Rosicrusian Philosophy9 and furnishing some history of the human mind. If it were merely imaginary, it would be nothing at all. He was repeating some of Thornton’s burlesque ode10 which he said had humour. He said the Connoisseur wanted matter.11 Before Johnson came in, Goldsmith repeated me some poetry of his own, which I liked, and I advised him to publish a Volume. He said I had a method of making people speak. Sir said I that is next best to speaking myself. Nay said he, but you do both. I must say indeed that if I excell in any thing it is in address, and making myself easily agreable. This evening past very well. I was very quiet & attentive.

SATURDAY 2 JULY

Go for tea & then have D[octo]r at Break[fast] & Doug[las]1 & then go to Coote’s & Troughton’s in Fenchurch Street &c2 Home at 5 & write Sr. D[avid] & Johnst[on.]3 Call Heron & be wt. him, in the evening. Bring up Journ well for Tuesday. Send excuse to Flexney not to meet. And pray be wt. Temp[le] much & fix all things: & give or leave him Gray.4 See Ogilvie.

I should have mentioned yesterday that Erskine and I past a very good morning at Dempster’s, where we met with Doctor Robertson5 and Mr. Fordyce.6 I was in an excellent moderate lively humour, so that Robertson observed afterwards that I was ‘a pleasant man.’ Altho’ our conversation that morning was admirable, yet I was hurt with a mixture of the Edinburgh familiarity & raillery.

The Doctor breakfasted with me; and I brought him acquainted with my friend Douglas in Pallmall. I met Lord Eglintoune today, whom I have not seen for near a week. Jamie[,] said he, I hear you are giving up all your bad Company. But I beg I may not be included in the Number.

SUNDAY 3 JULY

If up in time break[fast] Temp[le]: If not, Journ all forenoon. Pray bring it up neat; & finish Hume e’er you go; & let not dissipation prevent thought & schemes for your Journey. Write Miss Montgomerie & Miss Dallas.1 This day, if not home by forenoon, home at 5 & journ till 9 & then in Park. Be wt. Miss O[wen] on Monday. Have Ogilvie here soon & appoint Goldsmith.2 Send Apology to Flex[ney]: See Ersk[ine] & settle matters[.] Painter on Monday. Also Cochrane — Prepare for Wednesday

I was too late of rising, to go to Church. I called upon Cochrane who is just come from Utrecht, & he gave me a dreary account of it.3 However, I considered that after I am abroad, I can proceed as I please. I then past all the day with Temple, who advised me by all means to acquire habits of Study, & self-command, and then I will be happy in myself and respected by others. At night we walked in the Park. Lord Eglintoune advised me much against going to a dull Place. He said it would revolt me against improvement; as it would make Study appear gloomy: and that I would grow very bad. I said application depended upon habit. Yes[,] said he[,] as a Blacksmith’s arm grows stronger by use. But except he have natural vigour, he may make his bread, but will never excell, and so it is with the mind, which if it has not natural strength will never do a great deal. The Earl is very happy in his allusions: And this I believe may be pretty just. However, the mind may be covered up so many ways that it’s natural powers may be hid; so that by application alone, we can judge how far a man is able to go in any branch of improvement. The Temples & I supt at Claxton’s in our usual light, elegant way. It is very agreable to me to have good english acquaintances in the Inns of Court.

MONDAY 4 JULY

I should have mentioned some days ago, that Ogilvie the Poet is come to town, & breakfasted with me, and chatted away finely, & showed me much respect.

I breakfasted with Temple; and the Doctor and I drank tea with him. This afternoon I went & saw Mrs. Salmon’s famous wax-work1 in fleetstreet. It is excellent in it’s kind; and amused me very well for a quarter of an hour.

TUESDAY 5 JULY

Try Terrie for Guinea & bid Mrs Terrie bespeak Ducks &c for Supper & dont be dissipated; but settle week’s accounts — & then get franks from D[empster] & then Pringle a little & then Eglint[oune] — franks & horse to Bob.1 Then Temple & then Cochrane for money2 — & then Temp[le] & have him home wt. you & see him home at night — & after this except on Wed[nesday]: at 2 wt. Painter, be in all forenoon; or you can’t be steady. See Ersk[ine] to carry guineas to Johnst[on].3

I waited upon Mr. Johnson. He said he had looked at Ogilvie’s Poems; But he could find no thinking in them. And what might be called Imagination in them, was to be sure Imagination once; but it is no more Imagination in him, than the echo is sound. And his expression too is not his own. We have long ago seen white-rob’d Innocence, and flower-bespangled Meads.4 In short I found that Mr. Johnson had but a poor opinion of my Aberdeenshire poetical friend. I cannot help however thinking that he has more merit than this great Censor will allow.5 There is some thought prettily exprest in his Poetry with some elegance of Imagination. And for his want of Novelty, I fancy that can scarcely be had. Johnson indeed might answer that it is scarcely to be had because true Genius is very scarce. At night Temple and his Brother sat with me at my lodgings over some Negoes and as they were in a frolicksom humour, & were tickling me, & jumping about, we made a good deal of Noise. Mr. Terrie my Landlord whose character I have formerly delineated pretty strongly in this my Journal, now showed himself in full force of low rudeness and passionate ill-manners. He took it into his head that we had the maid with us, and came & rapp’d furiously at the Parlour door, calling my name. I went out & asked him what he meant. He bawled out that he would be in, & would turn us every one out. He then called the Watch, desired him at his peril, to bring more of his Brethren, & said he charged us with a riot, and would send us to the Roundhouse.6 However when the Watch returned he began to dread the consequence of false imprisonment, and desisted. But he still behaved very impertinently. Unluckily I had taken the parlour only for the Mornings, and my being there at night was a matter of courtesy; for if it had been my own lodging, I could have got him severely soused.7 I luckily kept my temper, and behaved with the greatest calmness. I determined however to quit his house, as Temple was of the same opinion.

WEDNESDAY 6 JULY

Rise & dress — & break[fast] & wait & see if Terrie comes. If he does behave wt. firmness, & show how rude he was: & insist on his calling, or writing to Temp[le]s.

If he does not come, at 10, call Low, & say you’ll come next day, & then Cochrane — & get money — Then Temp[le] & Johnson; & order supper at Mitre. Then home, pay off after advice & send Hume to Dempst[er] — except last Vol1 — & take all things to Chambers.2 Call Stewart3 soon & thank him genteely. Now you have a tryal[.] Be easy at Mitre.

Those who would endeavour to extirpate evil from the World, know little of human Nature. As well might Punch be palatable without sowring,4 as Existence agreable without care. I got up this morning, before seven[,] finely agitated, & away I went to Mr. Cochrane my Merchant, with whom I breakfasted & after telling my Story, got him to advance me my next allowance, & carried him with me to the Plantation Office where we found Terrie, with whom I talked over the affair. The Dog denied he was drunk, & continued as obstinate as ever. When he had told Mr. Cochrane his Story, Mr. Cochrane said ‘I was affraid Sir that my friend had perhaps been in the wrong, but from your own account of the matter, I find that you have behaved very rudely; and Sir no Gentleman can put up with such usage.’ I then demanded how much I owed him; he said with a hard-fac’d Impudence, ‘We go by English Laws.’ I wish Sir (said I) that you had english manners. He looked at me with a Northland sulkiness. As he would not then say how much was due, I left him. By the advice of Mr. Coutts, I went to Sir John Fielding’s[,] that great Seat of Westminster Justice. A more curious Scene I never beheld: it brought fresh into my mind the ideas of London Roguery & Wickedness which I conceived in my younger days, by reading The lives of the Convicts, and other such Books. There were Whores and Chairmen and greasy Blackguards of all Denominations assembled together. The blind Justice had his court in a back Hall. His Clerk5 who officiates as a sort of Chamber Council, hears all the causes, and gives his Opinion. As I had no formal Complaint to make, he did not carry me into the Justice, but told me that as my Landlord had used me rudely, altho’ I had taken my lodging by the year, I was only obliged to pay him for the time that I had lived in his house. A great difficulty still remained. I had engaged Mr. Johnson and some more Company to sup at my lodgings, and as my having the Parlour of an evening was a favour from my Landlord, I would by no means think of it. I went to Mr. Johnson, & told him my distress. He laughed and bid me consider how little a distress it would appear a twelvemonth hence. He said that if My Landlord insisted that the Bargain should stand and the lodgings be mine for a year, that I could certainly use them as I pleased. So Sir, said he, you may quarter two Lifeguard men upon him;6 or you may get the greatest Scoundrel you can find, & send into his house; or you may say that you want to make some experiments in Natural Philosophy,7 and may burn a large quantity of Assa fœtida8 in his house. Such ludicrous fertility can this great Man throw out! What amazing universality of Genius has Mr. Johnson who has written The English Dictionary[,] a work of infinite labour and knowledge; The Rambler which contains a rich Store of Morality and knowledge of human life embellished with great Imagination. Rasselas,9 where we find a humane Preceptor delighting the fancy and Mending the heart. The life of Savage,10 which is distinguished for perspicuity of Narration, and abounds with excellent Reflection. The Translations of the Third and Tenth Satyres of Juvenal,11 and The Prologue spoken at Mr. Garrick’s opening Drury-lane Theatre,12 which display strong Poetical Genius; strength of Sentiment[,] keen[n]ess of Satire, vivaciousness of Wit and humour and manly power of Versification. His conversation too is as great as his Writing. He throws out all his powers with force of expression; and he mixes inimitable Strokes of Vivacity, with sollid good sense and knowledge, so that he is highly instructive, and highly entertaining. I made myself easy as to my Company, by letting them know that they were to consider the Mitre Tavern, as my lodgings for that night. Accordingly, I ordered Supper there and I had as my Guests, Mr. Samuel Johnson. Doctor Goldsmith. Mr. Ogilvie. Mr. Davies[,] Bookseller[,] and Mr. Eccles an irish Gentleman of fortune,13 a good ingenious sort of Man. I was well drest, and in excellent spirits[,] neither muddy nor flashy. I sat with much secret pride thinking of my having such a Company with me. I behaved with ease and propriety, & did not attempt at all to show away; but gently assisted Conversation, by those little arts which serve to make people throw out their sentiments with ease and freedom. Ogilvie was rapt in admiration of the Stupendous Johnson. Goldsmith was in his usual stile too eager to be bright, and held a keen dispute with Johnson against that Maxim in the British Constitution14 ‘The King can do no wrong;’ affirming that what was moraly false could not be politicaly true: And as the King might command & cause the doing of what was wrong, He certainly could do wrong. Johnson showed that in our Constitution the King is the head, & that there is no power by which he can be tried; and therefore it is that redress is allways to be had against oppression, by punishing the immediate Agents. The King cannot force a Judge to condemn a Man wrongfully; therefore it is the Judge that we pursue. Political Institutions are formed upon the consideration of what will most frequently tend to the good of the whole; altho’ now & then exceptions may occur. Thus it is better in general, that a Nation should have a supreme legislative power, altho’ it may at times be abused. But then, there is this consideration that if the Abuse be enormous, Nature will rise up, and claiming her original rights, overturn a corrupted political System. We talked of the Geniuses in England, in Queen Anne’s reign. Mr. Johnson said he thought Doctor Arbuthnot the first man among them; as he was the most universal Genius; being an excellent Physician, a man of deep learning, and also great humour. Mr. Addison was, to be sure, a great Man. His learning was not very deep: but his morality, his humour and his elegance of writing set him very high.

In recollecting Mr. Johnson’s conversation, I labour under much difficulty. It requires more parts than I am master of, even to retain that strength of Sentiment & perspicuity of expression for which he is remarkable. I shall just do my best, and relate as much as I can. He said that great parts were not requisite for a Historian; as in that kind of composition, all the greatest powers of the human mind are quiescent. He has facts ready to his hand; So he has no exercise of Invention. Imagination is not required in any high degree; only about as much as is used in the lower parts of Poetry. Some penetration, Accuracy and colouring will fit a Man for such a task, who can give the Application which is necessary. He said Bayle’s Dictionary15 was a very usefull Work to consult for those who love the Biographical part of Literature; which he said he loved most.16 We talked of Scotland. Ogilvie who is a rank Scot, defended his native land with all the powers that he could muster up. I was diverted to see how great a man a London Wit is in comparrison of one of your country Swans who sing ever so bonnily. Ogilvie said there was very rich country round Edinburgh. No no said Goldsmith with a sneering laugh; It is not rich country.17 Ogilvie then said that Scotland had a great many noble wild prospects. Sir, said Johnson, I beleive you have a great many noble wild Prospects. Norway too has some noble wild Prospects, and Lapland is remarkable for prodigious noble wild Prospects. But Sir, I beleive the noblest Prospect that a Scotsman ever sees, is the road which leads him to England. We gave a roar of Applause to this most excellent Sally of strong humour.18 At the same time, I could not help thinking that Mr. Johnson showed a want of taste in laughing at the wild grandeur of Nature, which to a mind undebauched by Art, conveys the most pleasing awfull19 sublime ideas. Have not I experienced the full force of this, when gazing at thee O Arthur Seat! thou venerable Mountain! whether in the severity of Winter thy brow has been covered with Snow, or wrap’d in mist; or in the gentle mildness of Summer the evening Sun has shone upon thy verdant sides diversifyed with rugged moss-clad rocks, and rendered religious by the ancient Chapel of St. Anthony.20 Beloved Hill! the Admiration of my youth! thy noble image shall ever fill my mind. Let me travel over the whole earth, I shall still remember thee; and when I return to my native country, while I live I will visit thee with affection & reverence.

Mr. Johnson was exceeding good company all this Evening. We parted at one. I was very happy. I am now reaping the fruits of my œconomy during the Winter; and I have got rid of the narrowness & love of money which my frugality made me contract. I am affraid I have a disposition to be a Miser. But I will combat this by my Benevolence which I have much of. I find I can cure narrowness, by practising free liberality. I have certainly had more enjoyment of my money, this evening, than if I had spent it, in one of your splendid court-end taverns,21 among a parcel of people that I did not care a farthing for; and could receive no benefit from. This evening I have had much pleasure. That is being truly rich. And Riches are only a good because Men have a pleasure in spending them; or in hoarding them up. I have received this night both Instruction & Pleasure.

THURSDAY 7 JULY

Yesterday afternoon before I went to the Mitre, I went to my lodgings in Downing-Street, got Chetwynd who has been a sort of prime minister to me, & packed up all my things. Then called up Mrs. Terrie & discharged what little debts I owed her. Poor Woman! she seemed much affected & hoped I would not mention Mr. Terrie’s Behaviour. I told her that I should allways speak well of her. But that I would most certainly represent her husband as a very rude unmannerly fellow, in whose house no Gentleman could be safe to stay: And I advised her to make him give over letting lodgings, as he was very unfit for it. So curious a composition is the mind of Man, that I felt a degree of sorrow at leaving the room in which I had past the Winter, where I had been confined five weeks, and where this my Journal and all my other little lucubrations have been written. I then put my Baggage into a hackney-coach, got into it myself and drove to the Temple. My friend Temple was to go to Cambridge, this morning, and kindly insisted that I should live in his Chambers which he has taken by the year. This morning He & I got up at five, & breakfasted, after which I accompanied him to Bishops’-gate Street, where the Cambridge Machine inns.1 Nobody had taken a place, besides himself; So I got in also, and rode till we were fairly out of London. The pleasing Melancholy which posesses the mind when about to separate from a friend in the highest sense of the word, had full power over us both. We recollected the many happy days which we have past together, the long intimacy which has subsisted between us, and which continues as strong as ever. We exprest in the warmest manner our mutual cordiality and Affection. We regretted that we were now to part for some years (— Good God! that is a very serious thought! —) We promised to corespond as frequently as we could and as fully. My friend advised me with much earnestness to study propriety of behaviour, and to acquire a habit of Study, so that I might be independently happy, and keep up the dignity of my character. He advised me to go to Utrecht, as my Father wished me to do so. He said I might find it favourable to Study and to getting rid of dissipation, so as to prepare me for travelling into the other parts of Europe, with advantage. He said I might diversify the scene, by trips to the Hague and other places; and if I found Holland very dissagreable, I might move away to some other place; such as Berlin, or any other gayer Capital. He said he hoped that I would return to England much improved, and that we might live much together with pleasure and comfort. He also advised me to follow Virtue which, upon the whole, would yield me most satisfaction. We then took leave of each other. My friend pursued his journey, and I walked calmly back to London. This Morning has left a very good Impression upon my Mind. I hope it will be pleasing and usefull to me, while I am abroad. True friendship is a noble Virtue. None but finer souls can posess it. I am very happy in that respect. And here I must relate an interview which I had with Captain Erskine. Two days before he left London, I went & sat awhile with him. I believe Boswell, said he, you don’t consider me as a friend. You dont consider Dempster and me as you do Temple and Johnston. You would not tell us your deep secrets. I replied that I liked Dempster and him much, but that I considered them more as literary partners, & as Companions, than as friends. That I had known Temple & Johnston very long, and very intimately[,] and therefore could have the greatest confidence in them. That if I were to fall into misfortune & become void of mirth & lively conversation, that Dempster & Erskine would probably have their jokes, & say ‘Poor Brute; he is turned an arrant idiot now.’ But that Temple and Johnston would then regard me as much as ever. I showed him the difference between a companion and a friend. A Companion loves some agreable qualitys which a Man may posses; but a friend loves the Man himself. I was very happy to find that honest Erskine understood perfectly what I meant; & yet was very well pleased. I joked & said that if [I] was going to be married, Temple & Johnston would be the men whom I would have in my room, with the door locked, a piece of cheese[,] two moulded candles and a bottle of claret upon the Mahogany table round which we would sit in quiet attention consulting and examining the Settlements. But that when the Wedding was over and festivity was going on, then I would send for Dempster and Erskine, and we would be jolly & hearty & laugh & talk & make sport. Erskine said we ought to write now & then to each other a Letter of good amusing facts, which I agreed to. We were both in excellent humour; so I took leave of him then, so as to carry off a good impression. Farewell, said he, may you be the best of Travellers, and may you perambulate Spain.2

And now I was left in my chambers in the Temple, with little Captain Bob[,] who waited in town till he should receive some money, and then he was to go to Cambridge. This day past pretty well.

FRIDAY 8 JULY

Break[fast] neat — & let the Captain1 & you behave wt. proper politeness — At 10 call Low & have picture finished. Then call Eglint[oune] — fix tomorrow & get franks — and give him ye Lady’s letter.2 Then home, & read or write till 3 then dress like Temp3 — Then Cliff[ton]’s & then George’s4 & then Journ — till 7 & then Flexney &c till 11 & remember Caxton his Printer5 — & after this — allways in at night

I dined with Lord Eglintoune. M. de Léry a Canadian6 was there. I made a sort of shift to speak a little french with him. At night I met at the Queen’s head in Holbourn,7 with Chandler my Printer, and Flexney my Bookseller. We had a bit of Supper, and every man drank his bottle of Rhenish8 with Sugar. Flexney is a fine smart obliging merry little man. And Chandler an honest well-behaved good-humoured laughing fellow. I thought an Evening of this kind very proper after our letters were fairly published. They admired me much, and I gave them all encouragement. We were very good friends, and very lively & chatty. They saw me half-way home. They parted from me, at the Rolls in Chancery-lane9 & Flexney said he hoped I would have One for breakfast next morning: For Flexney is a Punster of his kind. The connection between Authours[,] Printers and Booksellers must be kept up.

SATURDAY 9 JULY

Break[fast] & in all forenoon: & bring up Journ. & mark Expences; & Write to Sr. D[avid] & Johnston1 — And at 2 call Johnson — & resolve no more taverns but 1 wt. Johnson & 1 wt. Churchill. Resolve study utmost sobriety & care & see to {establish character fine}

Be much at home now. Be at City between 11 & 12 & Lett[er]s after 7, here.

Master Robert and I agree pretty well. But, as he is very young, and has not read much[,] he can be a companion to me, in no other way than in laughing, & talking harmless lively nonsence. And this will not last long; I have unluckily let myself too much down, by my extreme jocularity before him: So that when I want to assume any superiority over him, the little Dog immediatly rebells and cries ‘Come, come, James, You are wanting to be the great Man. But it won’t do.’ — Being the great Man has been quite our cant word for sometime. Bob is however so sprightly a Boy, that any little quarrels between us, never last long. I wish I had kept him all along at a due distance; for too much familiarity especialy with those much younger than ourselves is allways attended with dissagreable circumstances. I realy find this is what I am most apt to fall into; & as it often makes me look little & so gives me pain, I must guard against it. I dined this day at Lord Eglintoune’s. Lord March, Doctor Robertson, Dr. Jardine and Dempster were there. Before dinner My Lord was roasting me about my Publications. Gentlemen (said I) I let my Lord go on a while. But only think of a Man’s criticising Books, who can scarcely read his own name. This was so home to his Lordship[,] who reads so little, that it made him look very foolish for the space of a minute. He can bear no manner of licking, altho’ he is much disposed to use the lash to others. But I am determined allways to return him as much as he gives. The same genius & temper that qualifys a Man to cut others, make him sensible of being cut himself. Indeed I think the less cutting which is used in a Society, so much the happier will it be. Lord March acquitted himself very well today. He was polite[,] sensible & acute & even lively. The two Lords went to Vauxhall, and I and the rest of the Company went to the Green-Park. But we gathered many more Scotsmen, and the conversation grew familiar to a detestable degree. I therefore left them; happy to be rid of their rude want of distinction, & to retreat to my calm retirement in the Temple.

SUNDAY 10 JULY

Break[fast,] dress & at 11 Bow church1 — & after it, home & Hume till dinner — Dine Cliff[ton]’s. Then walk King’s Bench2 then George’s — Then home & bring up Journ. Call Clack3 Monday forenoon; & have him at night — Now you’re in temple, study to be Composed & grave &c. Mark in Boswell. Dav[id] Hume fear the King. Johnson’s Scotch prospect Boswell’s roasting &c4

I went to Bow-church; the true centrical temple for the bluff Citizens.5 I had many comfortable ideas. And here I must mention that some days ago I went to the old Printing Office in Bow-church Yard kept by Dicey6 whose family have kept it fourscore years. There, are ushered into the World of Literature, Jack and the Giants, The seven wise men of Gotham and other Storybooks which in my dawning years amused me as much as Rasselas does now. I saw the whole Scheme with a kind of pleasing romantic feeling to find myself realy where all my old darlings were printed. I bought two dozen of the Story-books, and had them bound up with this Title[:] ‘Curious Productions.7 I thought myself like old Lord Somerville or some other Man of whim & wished my whims might be all as quiet.

MONDAY 11 JULY

Break[fast] & sit in at ease wt. Journ. till Shirts &c are brought. & discharge Laundress. Call Clack today & have him at night. Labour hard to bring up Journ. so as to be easy[.] Write to Johnst[on] also, today; as you’re to be in City to get receipt1 tomorrow forenoon after seeing D[octo]r & wt. Sr. W. Maxwell at night sober & only taking a glass or two. See Johnson soon & consult on Plan fully and be as oft wt. him as you can.

{Fuck} once in {cundum} to recover {manhood} as you must not trust any Girls — then Churchill one ev[ening] &c.

Claxton past the evening with us. We were very well. Being in such company is improving at any rate whether much be said or not; as it accustoms me to decent & polite behaviour.

TUESDAY 12 JULY

Break[fast] Dr. Boswell & {talk over} what {Doug[las] said}. Only be cautious — Then City & get receipt. Then home & Letters to Temp[le]1 & Johnst[on] &c — & don’t dine but slightly — At 8 Howell’s2 wt. Sr. William Maxwell, tété a téte after calling at Eglintoune’s & seeing Crooks[hanks] & consulting on Journey3 in all particulars. Be retenué wt. Sr. W. & part before or at 11. Mem. {Guard against childishness}; what you {think wit} is mere {folly. Be silent and keep Bob} at {distance}

I neglected last Saturday to mention that I called for Mr. Johnson. But there were several people with him & I remember nothing that past. This night, I supt téte a tété with Sir William Maxwell, at Howell’s in Half-moon-street. I was in sound, chearfull frame. I found myself much more prudent & less extravagant, than when I last saw him, in Annandale.4 We talked like Cousins and friends[,] as the word goes. We sat till near two, & I went home and slept at his lodgings; a thing which disconcerted me.

WEDNESDAY 13 JULY

I took leave of Sir William who was to set out next day for Paris. I walked round Grosvenor Square with Mr. Fordyce of Edinburgh, who gave me his opinion with regard to the steps proper for my brother Davie. Fordyce is a sensible clever goodhumoured Man.1 But I must find one fault with all the Poker Club, as they are called; that is to say with all that set who associate with David Hume & Robertson. They are doing all that they can to destroy politeness. They would abolish all respect due to rank & external circumstances, and they would live like a kind of literary Barbarians. For my own share, I own I would rather want their instructive conversation than be hurt by their rudeness. However, they don’t allways show this. Therefore I like their company best, when it is qualify’d by the presence of a Stranger. This afternoon I had some low debauchery with Girls who patrole the courts in the Temple.

THURSDAY 14 JULY

When {you rise speak grave to Bob and try to make him ride1 — write to Temple today to take him down2 by all means. As you had low profligacy last night and could not fulfil your purpose3 think either to have one} in {park tonight} or {to let} it {alone altogether}. But to be sure you have time before {nine} — when you are to be wt. Johnson {to go and have one} in {park}. Write Journ all forenoon & bring it up neat. And afternoon Dempster’s[.] {Speak less to Bob and keep him right} Pay Johnson Shilling.4 Write soon to all freinds e’er you go[.] Call for trunk at St Paul’s5

Mr. Johnson and I met at the Mitre by ourselves. He was in most excellent humour tho’ the night was very rainy. I said it was good for the vegetable part of the Creation. Ay Sir said he, and for the Animals who eat those Vegetables, and for the Animals who eat those Animals. We had a good Supper, which made us very comfortable. I said[:] You and I[,] Sir[,] are very good Companions: But my Father and I are not so. Now what can occasion this? For, you are as old a Man as my Father, and you are certainly as learned and as knowing. Sir (said he) I am a Man of the World. I live in the world, and I take in some measure, the colour of the world, as it moves along. But your Father is a Judge in a remote part of the country, and all his notions are taken from the Old World. Besides, there must allways be a Struggle between a Father and Son, while the one aims at power, and the other at Independency. I told him that I was affraid of my Father’s forcing me to be a Lawyer. Why Sir (said he) you need not be affraid of his forcing you to be a laborious practising Lawyer. That is not in his power. For, as the Proverb says, one man may lead a horse to the Water, but twenty cannot make him drink. He may be displeased, but it will not go far. If he only insists on your having as much law as is necessary for a man of property, and endeavours to get you into Parliament, he is quite in the right.

We talked of denying Christianity[.] He said it was easy to be on the negative side. If a man were now to deny that there is salt upon the table, you could not reduce him to an Absurdity. I deny that Canada is taken, and I can support my Assertion with pretty good Arguments. The french are a much more numerous People than we, & it is not likely that they would allow us to take it. — But the Ministry tell us so. — True. But the Ministry have put us to an enormous expence and it is their interest to perswade us that we have got something for our money. — But we are told so by thousands of Men who were at the taking of it. Ay — But these Men have still more interest in deceiving us. They don’t want you should think they have gone a fool’s errand; and they don’t want you should think that the french have beat them; but that they have beat the French. Now suppose you should go over & see if it is so, that would only satisfy yourself; for when you come home, we will not believe you. We will say you have been brib’d. — Yet, for all these plausible Objections, we believe that Canada is realy ours. Such is the weight of common testimony. He said he would not advise a plan of Study; for he had never pursued one, two days. And a Man ought just to read as inclination leads him, for, what he reads as a task, will do him little good. Idleness is a disease which must be combated. A young man should read five hours every day; and so may acquire a great deal of knowledge. He advised me when abroad to be as much as possible with men of learning; especialy the Professors in the Universitys, and the Clergy. Indeed, I imagine myself that the Clergy, especialy the Jesuits will be my most instructive Companions. I hope to learn from them; and to settle by degrees, into a composed and a knowing Man. I told Mr. Johnson what a strange Mortal Macpherson was, or affected to be; and how he railed at all established Systems. So would he tumble in a Hog-stye, (said Johnson) as long as you look at him, and cry to him to come out. But, let him alone, never mind him, and he’ll soon give it over. Mr. Johnson and I had formerly drank the health of Sir David Dalrymple, whom he gave as his toast. I this night read part of a letter from Sir David, since my informing him of it, in which he bid me assure him of the veneration which he entertained for the Authour of the Rambler and of Rasselas. He pay’d Mr. Johnson some very pretty compliments which pleased him much.6

Mr. Johnson considered reading what you have an inclination for, as eating what you have an appetite for. But then I consider that a Stomach which has fasted very long, will have no desire for any kind of food. The longer it wants food, it will be the worse; and therefore we must not wait till an Appetite returns, but immediately throw in some wholesom sustenance. The Stomach may then recover it’s tone; and it’s natural taste may spring up and grow vigourous, and then let it be indulged. So it is with the Mind; when by a long course of dissipation it is quite relaxed. We must recover it gradualy, and then we can better judge what course of Study to pursue. This must now be my endeavour: And when I go to Utrecht, I hope to make proficiency in usefull Literature. When we went into the Mitre, tonight, Mr. Johnson said ‘We will not drink two Bottles of Port.’ When one was drank[,] He called for another Pint; & when we had got to the bottom of that, & I was distributing it equaly; Come said he, you need not measure it so exactly. Sir, said I, it is done. Well Sir, said he, are you satisfy’d? or would you chuse another? Would you, Sir? said I. Yes, said he, I think I would. I think two Bottles would seem to be the quantity for us. Accordingly we made them out. I take a pleasure in recording every little circumstance about so great a man as Mr. Johnson. This little specimen of social pleasantry will serve me to tell as an agreable enough Story to literary People. He took me cordialy by the hand; & said My Dear Boswell! I do love you very much. — I will be vain, there’s enough.

FRIDAY 15 JULY

Break[fast] & then bring up Journ. as Johnson desired you should.1 {Behave distant to Bob. Begin} now immed to right Plan. Get Lady Mary Wortley & read2 — Tea Demp[ster]’s[.] Call Trunkmaker’s tomorrow & settle. Write Temple today & Sr. D[avid] & Lord Kames &c tomorrow. {Swear to have no more rogering before you leave England} except Mrs. — in Chambers.3 Prepare for journey soon.

A Bottle of thick english Port is a very heavy and a very inflammatory doze. I felt it last time that I drank it,4 for several days: And this Morning it was boiling in my veins. Dempster came & saw me, & said I had better be palsied at eighteen than not keep company with such a Man as Johnson. I sailed with Dempster up to the Navy Office, & then sailed back to his house in Manchester Buildings,5 (for he has now got a house in town). It was a prodigious bad day. We got into a covered Boat. But it was very horrid as it rained and thundered, all the time that we were going up the River. I dined with Dempster, & his Sister. We talked lively enough. But conversation without a Subject and constantly mixed up with ludicrous Witticisms, appears very trifling after being with Mr. Johnson.

SATURDAY 16 JULY

I carried Bob Temple with me to breakfast at Dempster’s, and introduced him to Dempster and his Sister, where he was very well received. Since my being honoured with the friendship of Mr. Johnson, I have more seriously considered the dutys of Morality and Religion, and the dignity of Human Nature. I have considered that promiscous concubinage is certainly wrong. It is contributing one’s share towards bringing confusion and misery into Society; and it is a transgression of the Laws of the Allmighty Creator who has ordained Marriage for the mutual comfort of the Sexes, and the Procreation & right educating of Children. Sure it is, that if all the men & women in Britain were merely to consult Animal gratification[,] Society would be a most shocking scene: Nay it would soon cease altogether. Notwithstanding of these Reflections, I have stooped to mean profligacy even yesterday. However, I am now resolved to guard against it.

At my last meeting with Mr. Johnson, he said that when he came first to London,1 and was upon his shifts, he was told by a very clever Man2 who understood perfectly the common Affairs of life, that £30 a year was enough to make a man live, without being Contemptible; that is to say, you might be allways clean. He allowed £10 for Cloaths & linnen. He said you might live in a Garret at eighteen pence a week as few people would enquire where you lodge; and if they do, it is easy to say, ‘Sir I am to be found at such a Place.’ For spending 3d. in a Coffeehouse, you may be for hours in very good Company. You may dine for Sixpence. You may breakfast on Bread and Milk, and you may want Supper.

He advised me to keep a Journal of my life, fair and undisguised; He said it would be a very good exercise, and would yeild me infinite Satisfaction, when the ideas were faded from my Remembrance. I told him that I had done so, ever since I left Scotland. He said he was very happy that I pursued so good a Plan.3 And now O My Journal! art thou not highly dignifyd? Shalt thou not flourish tenfold? No former Sollicitations or Censures could tempt me to lay thee aside;4 And now is there any Argument which can outweigh the Sanction of Mr. Samuel Johnson? He said indeed that I should keep it private, and that I might surely have a friend who would burn it in case of my death. For my own part, I have at present such an Affection for this my Journal, that it shocks me to think of burning it. I rather encourage the idea of having it carefully laid up among the Archives of Auchinleck. However, I cannot judge fairly of it, now. Some years hence I may. I told Mr. Johnson that I put down all sorts of little incidents in it. ‘Sir’ (said he) ‘there is nothing too little for so little a Creature as Man. It is by studying little things that we attain the great knowledge of having as little misery, and as much happiness[,] as possible.’

He told me that he intended to give us some more imitations of Juvenal. When I sometime ago mentioned the Universality of Mr. Johnson’s Abilitys, and mentioned his Works, I am surprised how I omitted The Idler which is a more easy & lively paper than the Rambler but is distinguished for the same good sense & strong humour; and his Tragedy of Irene which is far from deserving the indiscriminate censure of frigidity which Dempster gave it in the beginning of Winter, as may be seen in a former page of this my Journal. Irene is upon the whole, perhaps, no great Play; but it abounds with sentiment and with Poetry. I had not read it, when I marked Dempster’s Criticism; and I have read it now; tho’, to be sure, I have read it with some partiality to the work of my valuable friend. It is surprising to think how much the judgment even of the greatest men may be biazed in this way.

SUNDAY 17 JULY

Break[fast] & dress — Then Temple Church. Then home & bring up Journ. Then Dempster’s & see about Robertson. Sit down sedate & consider all matters how to proceed & don’t go1 till August. Consider you’re going to make the tour. To learn french; to be an œconomist. To stay no longer in a place than you find it agreable by seeing their manners, and yt. you are at a distance from idle connections & acquiring proper dignity[.] See Eglint[oune] — Send shirt2 by Chairman near his house. Tis mean to keep it longer.

The method of living in the Inner Temple, is, in my opinion, the most agreable in the World for a single man. We have genteel agreable chambers in that calm Retreat of which I have given a pretty full picture in a former part of my Journal. When a Templar goes out he shuts his door which locks of itself and takes his key in his pocket, so that he can come in and go out, at all hours, without giving disturbance to any Mortal. If he has a Servant, it is a piece of Luxury, and he is somewhat easier: But he may do very well without one. At present we have an old Woman called Mrs. Legge for a Laundress, who has breakfast set every Morning[,] washes our linnen[,] cleans the chambers, wipes our Shoes, and in short, does every thing in the world that we can require of an old Woman. She is perhaps as curious an Animal as has appeared in human shape. She presents a strong idea of one of the frightfull Witches in Macbeth; and yet the Beldame boasts that she was once as handsom a Girl as you could clap your eyes upon; and withall exceedingly virtuos; in so much that she refused £500 from the late Lord Hervey.3 She was servant in many great familys, and then she married, for love, a tall strapping fellow who died. She then owns that she married Mr. Legge for Money. He is a little queer round creature; and claiming kindred with Baron Legge,4 he generaly goes by the name of The Baron; & fine fun we have with him. He serves as Porter when we have any Message to send at a distance. To give a specimen of Mrs. Legge who is a prodigious Prater, She said to Bob this morning, ‘Ay ay Master Robert! you may talk. But we knows what you young Men are. Just Cocksparrows. You can’t stand it out. But the Baron! O lord! the Baron is a staunch Man. Ay ay, did you never hear that God never made a little Man; but he made it up to him in something else. Yes, yes, the Baron is a good Man[,] an able Man. He layd a married Woman upon the floor while he sent the Maid out for a pint of Porter. But he was discovered, and so I come to know of it.’ In this way will she run ye on as long as you please to hear her; and longer too for rather than be silent She’ll talk to herself till any moderate tongue would be as dry as a crust of brown-bread. Bob this day was obliged to go down to Salisbury to attend the Assizes where an Appeal from a Court martial5 of which he was one, was to be tried. I took a seat in his chaise to Hounslow, & returned in it to town. I took in Lord Shellburne’s Steward6 a sensible well-behaved Man, who has travelled a great deal. We got to town about one. I dined & went to the Temple Church. The Afternoon turned very wet. I went to Dempster’s to pass away the time. But time surely never passed on with so woefull a visage. A rainy Sunday in Scotland is but a type of7 the misery which we endured. Dempster and his Sister were both lowspirited. I thought him a poor contemptible fool; and her an ugly dissagreable wretch, and myself the silliest and most dreary of Mankind. I stayed till twelve at night. But there was nothing but the most gloomy wretchedness.

MONDAY 18 JULY

Read Cicero, or some othr. book till 1 & then Johnson. Dress at 3 & then Clif[ton]’s — & then George’s & then Journ. all afternoon — & night resolve never late out[,] it hurts you much. Prepare mind for travelling; by reading & Reflection. Get trunk & great-coat & set out week after next at farthest & have no whims of days.1 Have resolution, & write to Temple &c.

I called at Dempster’s a minute to take off last night’s gloom. He & Miss Dempster were very well today. At the head of St. James’s street I observed three Turks staring about in a strange manner. I spoke a little of english[,] french and latin to them, neither of which they understood a word of. They showed me a pass from a Captain of a Ship declaring that they were Algerines, who had been taken by the Spaniards & made Slaves. That they made their escape, got to Lisbon, and from thence were brought to England. I carried them with me to a french house2 where I got a Man who spoke a little spanish to one of them, & learnt that they wanted to see the Ambassador from Tripoli3 who tho’ not from the same division of territory4 is yet under the grand Signior5 as they are. I accordingly went with him to the Ambassador’s house, where I found a Turk who could speak english & interpret what they said and he told me that they had landed that morning, & had allready been with the Embassador begging that he would get liberty for them to go in an english Ship to their own country; that he was to get them liberty from the Lords of the Admiralty; and that he had ordered them Victuals. I gave them half a crown. They were very thankfull, & my turkish friend who spoke english said ‘God reward you. The same God make the Turk that make the Christian. But the English have the tender heart. The Turk have not the tender heart.’ I was anxious to have My poor Strangers taken care of and I begged that they might sleep in the house with the Ambassador. The Landlady[,] a hard-hearted Shrew[,] opposed this vehemently. ‘Indeed (said she) I would not suffer one of ’em to lye in my beds. Who knows what vermin & nastiness they may have brought with them. To be sure I may allow them to sleep upon the floor, as they do in their own country; but, for my beds, Sir — as I’m a Christian — I could not let them sleep in a Bed of mine.’ Her christian Argument was truly conclusive. Abandoned Wretch! to make the Religion of the Prince of Peace, the Religion which so warmly inculcates universal Charity, a cloak for thy unfeeling barbarity. However I was glad to have it fixed that they should sleep under a roof; and I begged my friend to take care that they lay comfortably. I then went to Lord Eglintoune’s[.] He was in a serious humour. I said ‘nothing but power or riches could engage the mind of man when he comes to a certain Age; for that all other pursuits were frivoulous & vain.’ ‘No Jamie, (said the Earl) I cannot agree with you. My Lord Bute is a strong instance that power is not a great enjoyment; for you see he gave it up very soon.’ Beg your pardon, My Lord, (said I) My Lord Bute is no instance at all: he was not fit for power, & so he could not keep it. His complaining of power is just as if a very unskillfull Rider should be thrown off, & then cry This riding is a damn’d bad exercise. Now it is not a bad exercise: But he is a bad Rider. Now My Lord Bute instead of getting upon one of his own highland Shelties6 and then upon a Galloway,7 and so training himself by degrees, he must mount the great state-horse all at once, and take Sir Harry Erskine before him, & John Home behind him; while you & Lord March & the rest of you were run[n]ing like so many Ostlers, to hold his Lordship’s Stirrup till he should mount, and every man getting half a crown for his pains. ‘My Lord: you shall be a Lord of the Bedchamber and Lord Talbot being the Servant out of livery he must have a crown: be made Lord Steward’.8 And so[,] My Lord[,] away goes this equipage prancing along, till Wilkes a Colonel of Militia9 came by, beating his drum to the tune of Britons strike home[,]10 and Churchill a Parson, with great Zeal blowing the trumpet in Zion.11 The Horse frighten’d at this noise, fell to plunging and capering; when Sir Harry with the perpendicular dignity of a Prologue-maker,12 flew off at the ears, while Johny Home came tragically off at the tail:13 And then his Bootship14 came sowse15 into the Mire crying out[:] My Lord Shelburn I told you a year ago, that I was to take this fall. His Lordship did not seem over fond of this,16 and fell a whistling & turned absent but I waked him out of his Reverie, with a My Lord! how do you like my Nag? I supt with him, tonight, for the last time this many a day & bid him recollect our old days in his house, when I was first in town. We took leave and agreed to Corespond. Our parting had a mixture of sorrow in it.17

TUESDAY 19 JULY

Get Pens — & Ink — & fall to work wt. spirit & bring up Journal. You have much to insert & ’tis a treasure. — Write till near 2. Then call Johnst1 — & sit — & ask to present Dempster &c[.] Then home — dress dine coffee Turks2 & journ all night. Write Fathr, J. Bruce[,] Johnston & Temp[le.]3 Call Dun[,] Brooksbanks[,] Chas. Douglas. You’ve now taken leave of Eglint[oune.] So begin french4 — & prepare for Journey, Call for trunk & be like Coll. Ersk[ine].5

I breakfasted with Doctor Boswell, who said the longer he knew me the better he liked me. However I found the honest Doctor had not the refined notions of friendship which I have. He said he would trust his Journal to no man, from which I saw that he had no idea of people being so connected that they were but as one person. He talked too something about Jesus Christ’s being his friend. I was quite provoked at this. My dear Doctor (said I) You would bring your Religion6 into every thing. I beleive you will make it mend your breeches, & soal your shoes by & by. This was too ludicrous. But I could not help it. At eleven, I went to St. Paul’s Church,7 walked up to the whispering gallery,8 which is a most curious thing. I had here the mortification to observe that the noble paintings on the cieling of the Cupola,9 are a good deal damaged by the moisture of Winter. I then went up to the roof of the Cupola, & went out upon the leads, and walk’d round it. I went up to the highest story of roof. Here I had the immense prospect of London and it’s Environs. London gave me no great idea. I just saw a prodigious groupe of tiled roofs and narrow lanes opening here & there: for the Streets & beauty of the buildings cannot be observed on account of the distance. The Thames and the Country arround, the beautifull hills of Hampstead & of Highgate looked very fine: And yet I did not feel the same enthusiasm that I have felt sometime ago, at viewing these rich prospects. I called upon Mr. Johnson. Sir Thomas Robinson10 was with him. He said the King of Prussia valued himself upon three things. Upon being a Hero, a Musician and an Authour.11 ‘Pretty well’ (said Mr. Johnson) ‘for one man. But as to his being an Authour, I have not looked at his Poetry; but his prose is cursed Stuff. He just writes as you would suppose Voltaire’s Foot-boy12 to do. He has such a share of parts as the Valet might have, and about as much of the colouring of his Master’s stile, as might be got, by transcribing his works.’ I could not help observing how much less parts is required to make a King, than to make an Authour. ‘For the King of Prussia is confessedly the greatest king now upon earth, and yet, he makes but a very poor figure as an Authour.’ Mr. Johnson has a curious-looking little man called Levet13 who stays with him. I asked Goldsmith what this man was. ‘Sir’ (said he) ‘he is poor & honest, which is enough to Johnson.’ Levet went up with me to Mr. Johnson’s library, which is four pair of Stairs up, in two garrets where Lintot (son to the famous Lintot) had his printing-house.14 I was much pleased to be in the library of this great Man, where I saw a number of good books, but very dusty & confusedly placed. I saw too an Apparatus for Chymical experiments, of which it seems Mr. Johnson was fond: And I saw manuscript leaves scattered up & down which I looked upon with a degree of veneration as they perhaps might be pieces of the Rambler, or of Rasselas. Mr. Johnson goes up to his library when he wants to Study, as he will not allow his Servant to say he is not at home, when he is. I don’t know but I may have mentioned before in my Journal, that he thinks that a Servant’s notions of truth would be hurt by such a practise. A philosopher may know that it is a mere form of denial; but few Servants are such nice distinguishers. No place can be more favourable for Meditation than such a Retirement as this Garret. I could not help indulging a scheme of taking it for myself, many years hence, when it’s present great Posessor will in all probability be gone to a more exalted Situation. This was in a strong sense ‘building my Castle in the air.’ I sat in all the afternoon at french, & writing letters. Claxton came & past the evening with me.

WEDNESDAY 20 JULY

Rise at 7 Then go call Doctor & give letter & money.1 & talk cordialy & bid him farewell &c Then call Trunkmaker’s and order home trunk tomorrow at 3 —Then call Dempster — & go fix Johnston at night.2 Then cause Mrs. Legg get cold Beef or Lamb & tarts & Port from Mitre — or perhaps have waiter — call Francis3 & show him the way: At night be quite the man. Speak general & not of self & now resolve set out. Mem composure & dignity.

Mr. Johnson[,] Doctor Boswell and Mr. Dempster supt with me, at my chambers. Johnson said Pity was not a natural Passion: for children are allways cruel, and Savages are allways cruel. Pity is acquired & improved by the cultivation of reason. We have no doubt uneasy sensations from seeing a creature in distress, without Pity; for it is not pity, unless you wish to relieve them. The Doctor was much shocked at this, who is exceedingly fond of his children,4 & imagines them possest of all human virtues, as soon as they are born. Mr. Johnson then abused Donaldson as a rogue who took advantage of the law, to cheat his brethren; for, notwithstanding the Statute, which allows only fourteen years, it has allways been understood by the trade, that he who buys a book from the Authour, obtains a perpetual property, & upon that belief, numberless bargains are made to transferr property after the expiration of the legal term.5 Now Donaldson takes advantage here of people who have realy an equitable right from usage; & if we consider how few books which they buy the property of, succeed so well as to bring proffit, we should be of opinion that fourteen years is too short a term. It should be Sixty years. But (said Dempster) Mr. Donaldson is anxious for the encouragement of literature. He brings books so cheap, that poor Students may buy them. Well, (said Johnson) allowing that to be his motive, he is no better than Robin Hood, who robbed the rich, in order to give it to the poor. Come (said the Doctor) here is a health to bold Robin Hood. Mr. Johnson said that the structure of David Hume’s sentences was quite french. Now, that structure and the english Structure may in the Nature of things be equaly good: But if you allow that the English language is established, he is wrong. My name might have been Nicholson originaly as well as Johnson: But if you were to call me Nicholson, now, you would call me very absurdly. Dempster argued on Rousseau’s plan,6 that the goods of fortune and advantages of rank were nothing to a wise Man, who ought only to value internal Merit. Replied Johnson, if Man were a Savage, living in the woods by himself, this might be true. But, in civilized society we all depend upon each other, and our happiness is very much owing to the good opinion of others. Now, Sir in civilized Society, external advantages make us more respected by Individuals. A Man who has a good coat upon his back, meets with a better reception than he who has a bad one. Sir, you may analyze this & say what is there in it. But that is not fair. Pound St. Paul’s Church into Atoms, & consider every single Atom. It is to be sure good for nothing. But put all these Atoms together, and you have Saint Paul’s Church. So it is with human felicity which is made up of many ingredients each of which may be shown to be very insignificant. In civilized Society internal goodness will not serve you so much as Money will. Sir, you may make the experiment. Go to the street, and give one man a lecture of morality, and another, a shilling; & see who will respect you most. Sir, I was once a great arguer for the advantages of Poverty; but I was at the same time very discontented. Sir, the great deal of arguing which we hear to represent poverty as no evil, show it to be evidently a great one. You never knew People labouring to convince you that you might live very happily upon a plentifull fortune. In the same way, you hear People talking, how miserable a King must be. And yet every one of them would wish to have his Place. Dempster suggested that Kings must be unhappy because they are deprived of the greatest of all satisfactions, free & agreable Society. Replied Johnson, ‘That is an ill-founded idea. Being a King, does not exclude a man from Society. Great Kings have allways been social. The King of Prussia, the only great King at present, is very social. Charles the Second[,] the last King of England who was a man of parts, was social, and our Henrys and Edwards were all social.’ Dempster then argued that internal merit ought to make the only distinction amongst Mankind. Replied Johnson, ‘Mankind have found from experience, that this could not be. How shall we determine the proportion of internal merit. Had we no other distinction but that, we should soon fall a fighting about the degrees of it. Were all distinctions abolished the strongest would not permit it long. And why not let people be distinguished by their bodily strength? But, Sir, as Subordination is absolutely necessary for Society, and contentions for it very dangerous, Mankind, that is to say all civilized Nations[,] have settled it upon a plain, invariable footing. A Man is born to hereditary rank, or his obtaining particular offices, gives him a certain rank. Subordination tends greatly to the happiness of Men. There is a reciprocation of pleasure in commanding and in obeying. Were we all upon an æquality, none of us would be happy any more than single Animals who enjoyed mere animal pleasure. Sir if you want merely to support nature’ (for now I recollect some more about poverty & riches, that must not be omitted), ‘Sir William Petty7 fixes your allowance at three pounds a year. But, as times are much altered, we shall call it six. This will fill your belly, shelter you from the weather, & even get you a strong lasting coat, supposing it made of good Bull’s hide. Now, Sir, all beyond this, is artificial taste, and is desired in order to obtain a greater degree of respect from our fellow-creatures. And Sir, if Six hundred a year procure a man more consequence, & of course more happiness than six; the same proportion will hold good as to six thousand, and so on as far as Opulence can be carried. Perhaps, He who has a large fortune may not be so happy as he who has a small one; but that must proceed from other causes, than from his having the great fortune; For cæteris paribus,8 he who is rich, in a civilized society, must be happier than he who is poor, as riches if properly used (which it is a man’s own fault if they are not) must be productive of the highest advantages. Money, to be sure, of itself is of no use, for it’s only use is to part with it. Rousseau and all these people who deal in Paradoxes, are led away by a childish desire of novelty. When I was a Boy, I used allways to chuse the wrong side of a debate, because most ingenious things[,] that is to say, most New things could be advanced upon it. Sir, there is nothing that you may not muster up some plausible Arguments for. Why there now is stealing; why should it be considered as a crime. When we consider by what unjust methods property has been often acquired, and that what was unjustly got it must be unjust to keep[,] I see no harm in one man’s taking the property of another from him. Besides, when we consider the bad use that many People make of their property, and how much better use the thief would make of it, I think it is a very allowable practice. And yet, Sir, the experience of Mankind has discovered Stealing to be so very bad a thing, that they make no scruple to hang a man for it.’ I said that in civilized Society, I considered distinction of rank of so much importance, that if I were asked to dine with the Duke of Norfolk, or with The first Man for genius, and instructive and agreable conversation, I should hesitate which to preferr. Dempster looked odd at this. But Johnson said[:] To be sure, Sir, if you were to dine only once, and if it were never to be known where you dined, you would chuse to dine with the first Genius. But in order to gain most respect, you would dine with the Duke of Norfolk. For, nine people in ten that you meet with, would have a higher opinion of you, because you had dined with the Duke; and the great Genius himself would receive you better in some degree, because you had been with the great Duke. Thus did Mr. Johnson show upon sollid principles, the necessity and the Advantages of Subordination, which gave much satisfaction to Me, who have allways had strong monarchical Inclinations, but could never give strong reasons in their justification. The Republican Dempster was fully silenced; but being obstinately fond of his shallow views he would not own his conviction. I shall now mark some scattered fragments of Mr. Johnson’s Conversation. He said that no man who lived by Literature, had lived more independant than he had done. He said that thro’ Idleness, he had taken longer time to compose his Dictionary, than was necessary. (The honest Doctor drank to him, returning him many thanks for his noble Dictionary)[.] He said the Academy della Crusca at Florence, would not beleive that his Dictionary had been done by one Man.9 The Doctor left us at eleven and when I accompanied him to the door[,] He looked very serious, and said there are few people in Edinburgh who would keep company with this Man — meaning Mr. Johnson, who had been somewhat of the Bashaw10 to the Doctor. Well may I reverse the Doctor’s saying; for sure I am There are very few People in Edinburgh, with whom Mr. Johnson would keep company. I behaved extremely well tonight. I was attentive & chearfull and Manly. After Johnson went away, I took up the Argument for Subordination against Dempster, and indeed after his hearty drubbing from the hard-tongued Johnson, he was but a feeble Antagonist. He appeared to me a very weak man; and I exulted at the triumph of sound Principles over Sophistry.

THURSDAY 21 JULY

Break[fast] & journ. all forenoon. You have much good matter to insert. Pray now resolve to attain & preserve decency of character. Let Long-nose & Lord B’s riding be your last printings.1 Send your letters to Johnson, & ask him to say freely whether you have or may have powers, or if you had better not try to run.2 Be a Christian indeed. When Bob returns be chearfully decent. You see the pleasure in propriety of conduct. Study it & french — & now see Johns[on] oft — & get directions &c. See Gould soon

I remember nothing that happened worth relating, this day.3 How many such days does Mortal Man pass!

FRIDAY 22 JULY

Will this pen write[?] I dont know[.] Break[fast] — Then journ & french. for Wed’s journ. Mem name Nicholson — Robin Hood — Savage unlike City — No natural Pity — Encyclop only knowledge to be clear. Rousseau Paradox childish very easy. It is strang[e] that all argue ag[ains]t riches &c. — Nobody convinces how easy to live with riches. Greatness & — In short, lose none1 Mem prepare, & be more {master of} myself. Write Sr. Dav[id] long Saturday, &c.

Bob Temple returned last night. In his Absence, I had an opportunity of knowing how very comfortable and independent chambers in the Temple are. Altho’ Robert is a goodhumoured little fellow, yet he is a good deal selfish. He insists upon having the best things to himself. He persisted, notwithstanding of my most serious remonstrances, in taking up his Brother’s Bed, which is in the Bed-chamber, while I was obliged to sleep in the Study, where I was disturbed by the light breaking in upon me, at the earliest dawn, as the Windows have only half-blinds. Such things as these (trifling as they are) disturb human life; and realy it is a bad thing in Robert, to discover such dispositions.

I called upon Mr. Johnson. He said he did not like Dempster. He said he had not met with any man of a long time, who had given him such general displeasure. That he was totally unfixed in his principles, and wanted to puzzle other People. I told him that Dempster’s principles were poisoned by David Hume; But that he was a good benevolent sort of man. ‘Sir’ (said Mr. Johnson) ‘I can lay but little stress upon that instinctive[,] that Constitutional goodness[,] that is not founded upon Principle. I grant you that such a Man may be a very good member of Society. I can conceive him placed in such a Situation that he is not much tempted to deviate from what is right; and so, as goodness is most eligible when there is not some strong inticement to transgress it’s precepts, I can conceive him doing no harm. But if such a Man stood in need of Money I should not like to trust him. And even now, I should not trust Mr. Dempster with young Ladies; for there is allways a temptation.’ Mr. Johnson was rather hard upon Dempster; But his reasoning is very just. Indeed, it is of the utmost consequence to be well established in good principles, without which, there is no living in comfort. Mr. Johnson said that Mr. Hume and all other Sceptical Innovators were vain men; and finding Mankind allready in possession of truth, they could not gratify their vanity by supporting her; & so they have taken to error. Sir, said he, Truth is a Cow, which will yeild such people no more milk; and so, they are gone to milk the Bull. He said that all the things which David Hume has advanced against Christianity, had past through his own mind, long before Hume wrote.2 He bid me allways remember this, that after a System is well settled upon positive evidence, a few Objections ought not to shake it. The human mind is so limited, that it cannot take in all parts of a Subject. So that there may be objections raised against any thing. There are objections against a Plenum; and Objections against a Vacuum.3 Yet one of them must certainly be true. I told him that I was somewhat staggered with David Hume’s argument against Miracles: ‘That to beleive a Miracle, we must have such powerfull testimony that it would be more improbable that the Witnesses should be asserting a falshood, than that the Miracle should be true, and that as yet, we have no such testimony for Miracles.’4 Mr. Johnson said that the great difficulty of proving Miracles, should make us very cautious in beleiving them. He said that although God has made Nature operate by certain fixed laws, yet, it is not unreasonable to think that he may suspend these laws, in order to conferr credit on a System highly beneficial to Mankind. Now, the Christian Religion is a most beneficial System, as it gives us light and certainty, when before we were in darkness and doubt. The Miracles which prove it, are attested by Men who had no interest in deceiving us; but who on the contrary, were told that they should suffer tribulation, and did actualy lay down their lives in confirmation of what they taught; and indeed for some centurys, the heathens did not pretend to deny the Miracles; But they said they were performed by the aid of evil Spirits. This is a strong argument for them. Then when we consider the prior proofs by Prophecys which have been so exactly fullfilled, we have very strong evidence. Supposing a Miracle possible, we have as strong evidence for the Miracles in support of Christianity as can be.

At night, Mr. Johnson and I had a room at the Turk’s head Coffeehouse, which he encouraged because the Mistress of the house5 is a good civil Woman, & wants Business. And indeed we found better entertainment here, than at the Mitre, and as reasonable. I said that our reason for going to the Mitre was it’s being an Orthodox tavern.6 Perhaps, I may have mentioned this, before. Mr. Johnson said he loved the acquaintance of young People; because, (said he) in the first place, I don’t like to think myself turning old. In the next place Young Acquaintances must last longest, if they do last, and in the next place, young Men have more virtue than old Men. They have more generous sentiments in every respect. I love the young dogs of this Age; They have more wit & humour & knowledge of life, than we had. But then the dogs are not so good Scholars. Sir, in my early years I read very hard. It is a hard enough Reflection but a true one, that I knew allmost as much at eighteen, as I do now. My Judgment, to be sure, was not so good, but I had all the facts. I remember very well when I was about five & twenty an old Gentleman at Oxford said to me, ‘Young Man, ply your book diligently now and acquire a stock of knowledge; for when years come upon you, you will find that poring upon Books, will be but an irksome task.’ I complained to Mr. Johnson that I was much afflicted with Melancholy, which was hereditary in our family; He said that he himself had been greatly distrest with it, & for that reason had been obliged to fly from Study and Meditation to the dissipating variety of life. He advised me to have constant Occupation of mind, to take a great deal of exercise, and to live moderately, especialy to shun drinking at night. Melancholy People (said he) are apt to fly to Intemperance, which gives a momentary relief, but sinks the Soul much lower in Misery. He observed that labouring Men who work much and live sparingly, are seldom or never troubled with low spirits. It gave me great relief to talk of my disorder, with Mr. Johnson, and when I discovered that he himself was subject to it, I felt that strange satisfaction which human Nature feels at the idea of participating distress with others, and the greater person our fellow sufferer is so much the more good does it do us. Mr. Johnson said that he had been writing and sauntering about for these many years: and that no Man had ever lived more independent, who lived by literature.7 After this, I shall just mark Mr. Johnson’s Memorabilia, as they rise up in my memory, observing, however, as much as convenient, the times at which they were said. He insisted again on Subordination of Rank. ‘Sir’ (said he) ‘I would no more deprive a Nobleman of his respect, than of his money; I consider myself as acting a part in the great System; and do to others, as I would have them do to me. Sir I would behave to a Nobleman, as I would expect he should behave to me, were I a Nobleman, and he Sam. Johnson. Sir there is one Mrs. Mcaulay8 in this town, a great Republican. I came to her one day and said I was quite a convert to her republican System, and thought mankind all upon a footing; and I begged that her footman might be allowed to dine with us. She has never liked me since. Sir, your levellers count down only the length of themselves; They would all have some people below them; why not then, have people above them? Suppose a Shoemaker should claim an equality with Doctor Robertson as he does with a Lord. How would the Doctor stare — But Sir, says the Shoemaker, I do great service to Society. ’Tis true I am pay’d for doing it. But so are you Sir; and I am sorry to say it, better paid than me for doing something not so necessary, for Mankind could do better without your history, than without my Shoes; & so it would go on, were there no fixed invariable external rules of distinction of rank, which create no Jealousy, as they are allowed to be accidental. He said Joseph Warton was a very pretty Man and his Essay on Pope very agreable. He said Thomas Warton had also good parts, but being originaly poor had got a turn for mean company & low jocularity[;] a very bad thing.9 You ought no more to think it enough if you laugh, than you think it enough if you speak. You may laugh in as many ways as you speak; & surely every way of speaking that is practised, cannot be admired.’ This was a very good lesson for me, who am addicted to low jocularity. I am determined to get rid of it. I told him that Sir James Macdonald had never seen him but that he had a great respect, tho’ at the same time, a great terror for him. Sir (said he) if he were to see me, it might lessen both. He said he wished to visit the western isles of Scotland & would go thither with me,10 when I returned from abroad, unless some very good Companion should offer when I was absent; which he did not think probable. He said there are few people whom I take so much to, as you: and when I talked of leaving England, he said (with an affection that allmost made me cry) My dear Boswell! I should be very unhappy at parting, did I think we were not to meet again.

He maintained that a Boy at school was the happiest being. I maintained that a man was more so.11 He said a Boy’s having his backside flogg’d was not so severe as a Man’s having the hiss of the world against him. He talked of the anxiety which Men have for fame; and how the greater it is, the more affraid are they of losing it. I considered how wonderfull it must be if even the great Mr. Johnson did not think himself secure. But, indeed, I have seen People who even attempted to rail at him as a Writer. He drank a bumper to Sir David Dalrymple whom he considers as a very worthy Man, a Scholar & a Man of wit. He never heard of him, but from me. But he bid me let Sir David know his opinion,12 as he did not show himself much in the world, & so should have the praise of the few who hear of him.

SATURDAY 23 JULY

You have much to do. Stay in all this day & dine on Coffee. Write to Sr. Dav[id,] Temple[,] Johnston at length1 — and bring up Journal fully — You have a rich store of Materials. Write letter strong & accurate not too long, to Lord Kames — friendly & tender. At 8 see George Hume, & show letter2 — Then put lett[er]s in office. And then call Clack; or perhaps Bob may go to him first — or be in at french. Mem Johnson’s directions — not drink & write so to Grange.3 Send letters & write today.

I wrote letters allmost all day.

SUNDAY 24 JULY

Dress & run to Doctor’s & if not in come back to break[fast] & then at 11 Go to Bloomsbury Church. Then call Clack but resolve in at night to mark Sr. Tho Robinson. Voltaire’s Foot boy — the Bull — egg & Chicken. Miracle may be — as strong proof as could be — love young fellows — a man does not wish to grow old — They last long — They have the generous Sentiments. Young dogs more wit. Johnson knew all at eighteen. Ply your book. Melancholy[,] Sr. Dav[id]. Spain farewell[;] pain to part & not meet. Tom Warton & Joe &c[.] English Schools. Happiness of youth.1

Tea Dempster[.] Home at night[.] Mem too Goldie shine in conversation2

I was at a Church by Lombard Street.3 But I do not remember the name. I dined at Douglas’s. Captain Blair was there. He is a good worthy lad. But he has not enough of imagination, and mixes too much in the common rough intercourse of Society for me. So, we are very seldom together.

MONDAY 25 JULY

Break[fast] & if in humour journ all forenoon taken from prior materials. If not, call Clack & see Morris then call Thornton & have evening &c — And see not Johnson till Tuesday. See Love & Enquire about Yates1 also get bill renewed2 Have him to breakfast for auld lang syne high up stairs,3 at Edinr. & get bill renewed; & settle Money. Make Bob go & get ring and money. & send him down.4 Tuesday write Temp[le] again,5 & Johnston. Give Rambler time to look at letters6 & then have much of him.

I went to the Robin-hood Society,7 & took a great inclination to speak. An impudent blochead who is a great Orator there, said that the prejudice against excise,8 was a Giant which he would combat; and he said he was for an excise, upon principle. I rose up. ‘Mr. President! We have had the prejudice against excise represented to us as an enormous Giant; & this Gentleman, like the valiant Jack the Giant-killer[,] has stood forth to combat this Giant. But, Sir, I wish he had been an abler antagonist, for altho’ he has put himself a good deal in a heat, & a good deal out of breath, the Giant seems to me to be as strong & in as good health as when he began with him. Sir, The Gentleman says he is a friend to Excise, upon principle. I dont know indeed, how the Gentleman’s principles may be founded. A great many Philosophers have consider’d self-interest as a very strong principle. I can see how a number of my countrymen may be freinds to Excise, upon that principle, when there are so many Excisemens’ Posts9 to be given away; Far be it from me to suspect that the honourable Gentleman is actuated by any such views.’ I then gave them the commonplace arguments against excise, and when I sat down, They gave me a thunder of Applause. Yet I was so bashfull & so distrustfull that I thought I did but poorly. Whether or no I shall ever make a tollerable public Speaker, it is impossible to say. I should like it much. But when one does not succeed, it must be very galling. However, I shall not determine now, but wait some years.

TUESDAY 26 JULY

I called upon Mr. Johnson. It was a very wet day, and I complained that it made me gloomy. He said it was all imagination, which Physicians encouraged. For Man lives in air as a fish does in water; so that if the Atmosphere press heavy from above, there is an equal resistance from below. However, Mr. Johnson is a strong Man, & not easily affected. I am sure the weather affects me. He said to be sure, bad weather was hard upon those who were obliged to be abroad, and they could not labour so much as in good weather, But he said a Smith or a Taylor whose work is within doors, would surely do as much in rainy weather as in fair. He owned that delicate frames might be affected; but not the common run of constitutions. We talked of the education of children & what was best to teach them first. Sir said he there is no matter what you teach them first any more than what leg you shall put into your breeches, first. Sir, you may stand disputing which is best to put in, first; but, in the mean time, your backside is bare. Sir while you are considering which of two things you should teach your child, first, another boy has learnt ’em both.

I should have mentioned last Sunday, that I met the worthy Doctor in Saint Paul’s Church yard.1 We went into the King’s Arms,2 and had some white wine (tho’ it was the forenoon) and drank most cordialy to each other’s health as he was to sail for Leith, next day, & we were parting for a long time, probably some years. Honest Man! there is a great affection between us.

WEDNESDAY 27 JULY

Captain Maxwell of Dalswinton and his brother Captain George1 and I dined together, at Clifton’s[,] & were very merry. This was a cheap method both as to time & money, of meeting with my Cousins.

THURSDAY 28 JULY

I sat up all last night, writing letters,1 and bringing up my lagging Journal, which, like a stone to be rolled up a hill, must be kept constantly going. I sat up some nights ago. I beleive on Monday. I was not a bit the worse for it, this morning. Poor Bob was to leave me, and go down to his brother at Cambridge. I accompanied him to Gray’s-Inn lane and saw him into the Fly. When I took leave of the little dog, not to meet, perhaps, for many years, it affected me. I dined with Mr. Cochrane.

I should have mentioned that Mr. Love breakfasted with me.2 I should also have mentioned some time ago, that Peggy Doig the Mother of my little boy3 is in town. I have seen her and advised her not to fall into such a scrape again. I realy don’t know how to talk on such a Subject, when I consider that I led her into the Scrape. However, it was not the first time; and she has been well taken care of. At night, Mr. Johnson and I had a room at the Turk’s head. He said Swift had a higher reputation than he deserved; that his excellency was in strong sense; for his humour was (tho very well) not remarkably great. He doubted if the Tale of a Tub was Swift’s, as he never owned it, and as it is much above his usual manner.4 He said that Addison was a great Man. This I now remember was illustrated in a former conversation. We then talked of Me. He said that I was very forward in knowledge, for my age; that a man had no reason to complain, who held a middle place, and had many below him; and that, perhaps, I had not six above me. Perhaps, not one. He did not know one. This was very high. I asked him if he was my Father, and if I did well at the law, if he would be pleased with me. Sir, said he, I should be pleased with you, whatever way of life you followed; since you are now in so good a way. Time will do all that is wanting. Indeed, when you was in the irreligious way, I should not have been pleased with you. I returned him many thanks for having established my Principles. He said that human experience, which was constantly contradicting Theory, was the great test of truth. He said that the experience built upon the discoverys of a great many minds was allways of greater weight than the mere workings of one mind which can do little of itself. There is not so poor a Book in the World, but would be a prodigious Work, were it wrought out entirely by a single Mind, without the aid of prior investigators. The french are so superficial, because they are not Scholars, and so proceed upon the mere power of their own minds; & we see how very little power they have. As to the Christian Religion, Sir, we have a ballance in it’s favour from the number of great Men who have been convinced of it’s truth after a serious consideration of it. Grotius was an acute Man, a lawyer, a man accustomed to examine evidence, & he was convinced; and he was no recluse Man, but a Man of the World, who surely had no biaz towards it. Sir Isaac Newton set out as an Infidel; but came to be a very firm Beleiver.5

Mr. Johnson persisted in advising me to go to Spain. I said ‘it would divert him to get a letter from me, dated at Salamancha’. I love the University of Salamancha, (said he) for when the Spaniards were in doubt if they should conquer the west Indies, the University of Salamancha gave it as their Opinion that they should not.6 We talked how wretched a writer Derrick was. To be sure, Sir, said he; But it was his being a literary Man, that got him made King of Bath.7 Sir, he has nothing to say for himself, but that he is a Writer. Had Derrick not been a Writer, he must have been sweeping the crosses8 in the streets, and asking half pence from every body that past. I begg’d Mr. Johnson’s advice as to my method of Study, at Utrecht. Come, said he, let us make a day of it. Let us go down to Greenwich,9 and dine. Accordingly, Saturday was fixed for that jaunt, if a sail on the River may be so exprest. It must be something curious for the people in the Turk’s head Coffee-house, to see this great Man, and poor Me so often together, by ourselves. My Vanity is much flattered.

As we walk’d along the strand tonight, arm in arm, a Woman of the town came enticingly near us. ‘No’ (said Mr. Johnson) ‘No, my Girl, it won’t do.’10 We then talked of the unhappy situation of these wretches, & how much more misery than happiness, upon the whole, is produced by irregular love. He parted from me, at the Temple-Gate, as he allways does. And here I must record perhaps the most curious singularity that ever a Man had. When Mr. Johnson’s Wife11 was alive, she brought into the house as a Companion, Miss Williams[,]12 an amiable ingenious Woman who had attained a remarkable knowledge of the modern languages. This Lady’s eyes were tender. The disorder increast, & ended at last, in a gutta serena13 so that she became stone blind. Mrs. Johnson died, & while Mr. Johnson continued to keep house, Miss Williams remained with him. When he took to Chambers in the Temple, Miss Williams then went to a lodging of her own.14 But Mr. Johnson is never a night without seeing her. Let him be never so late in company, Miss Williams sits up till he comes and drinks tea with her. I beleive Miss Williams is supported chiefly by Mr. Johnson’s generosity, and I beleive nobody has ever had the folly or the malice to suspect any thing criminal between them. He has promised to introduce me there, soon.

FRIDAY 29 JULY

Sound was the sleep which I enjoyed last night. As I am now determined to humour my Father as much as I can, and may in time, perhaps apply to the law in Scotland, I have written to Lord President to whom I said that experience had now taught me that my Father is as wise as myself, and that I am to follow his plan of life.1 I thank his Lordship for his former good offices while I was an Idler, & hope he will not withhold them from me when I endeavour to be a man of business. To Pitfour I say that his prophecy that I would return to the law will be fullfilled, & I say that if a Saint nowadays obtained the gift of prophecy, none can have a better chance for it, than Pitfour. I bid him tell his Son to hasten on at the Bar, lest he be overtaken by a younger Man. To Lord Advocate I talk in the easy stile of a companion as he & I were allways easy, & mention with Satisfaction, my having more rational views. Such is the substance of these letters which I exprest very neatly. I am sure they will do good, as they will be shown or at least quoted to my Father. I have touched every Man on the proper key & yet have used no deceit.

SATURDAY 30 JULY

Mr. Johnson and I took a boat and sailed down the silver Thames. I asked him if a knowledge of the Greek & Roman languages was necessary. He said, by all means; for they who know them have a very great advantage over those who do not. Nay it is surprising what a difference it makes upon people in the intercourse of life, which does not appear to be much connected with it. And yet (said I) people will go thro’ the world very well, and do their business very well, without them. Why, (said he) that may be true where they could not possibly be of any use; for instance, this Boy rows us as well without literature, as if he could sing the song which Orpheus sung to the Argonauts,1 Who were the first Sailors in the World. He then said to the Boy, ‘what would you give, Sir, to know about the Argonauts?’ Sir (said he) I would give what I have. The reply pleased Mr. Johnson much; and we gave him a double fare. Sir (said Mr. Johnson) a desire of knowledge is the natural feeling of Mankind; And every Man who is not debauched would give all that he has, to get knowledge.

We landed at the Old Swan,2 and walked to Billingsgate,3 where we took Oars,4 and moved smoothly along the River. We were entertained with the immense number and variety of Ships that were lying at Anchor. It was a pleasant day, and when we got clear out into the Country, we were charmed with the beautifull fields on each side of the River. We talked of preaching, and of the great success that the Methodists have. He said that was owing to their preaching in a plain vulgar5 manner, which was the only way to do good to common people & which men of learning & genius ought to do, as their duty; and for which they would be praised by men of sense. He said that talking of drunken[n]ess as a crime, because it debases Reason, the noblest faculty of Man, would do no service to the vulgar. But to tell them that they might have died in their drunken[n]ess, & show how dreadfull that would be, would affect them much. He said when the Scotch Clergy give up their homely stile, that Religion must decay. When we got to Greenwich I felt great pleasure in being at the Place which Mr. Johnson celebrates in his London a Poem.6 I had the Poem in my pocket and read the passage on the banks of the Thames, and literaly ‘kist the consecrated earth.’7 Mr. Johnson said that the building at Greenwich was too magnificent for a place of Charity, & too much detached to make one great whole.8 He said Buchanan was a very fine Poet. That he first gave the different perfections of the Goddesses, to a Lady;9 but that Johnston improved upon it,10 by making her also free from their defects. He said he had country lodgings at Greenwich, and used to compose in the Park; particularly, his Irene.11 We walked about, & then had a good dinner (which he likes very well) after which He run over the grand Scale of human knowledge, advised me to select some particular branch to excell in; But to have a little of every kind. We then came up by water. I was a little discomposed even by this small excursion,12 and felt warm comfort at being again in London. We supt at the Turk’s head. Mr. Johnson said ‘I must see thee go; I will go down with you to Harwich.’13 This prodigious mark of his affection filled me with gratitude & Vanity. I gave him an Account of the family of Auchinleck, and of the Place.14 He said I15 must be there, and we will live in the Old Castle, and if there is no room remaining, we will build one. This was the most pleasing idea that I could possibly have, to think of seeing this great Man at the venerable Seat of my Ancestors. I had been up all last night, yet was not sleepy.

SUNDAY 31 JULY

At 11 Quakers in Lombard Street.1 Then call Capt. Bosville[,] Chas. Douglas &c. dine Clif[ton]’s at 2 & then St. Paul’s to take leave of grand Church of England.

See not Dempster but once tomorrow, & tell that Johnson goes down with you. At 6 tonight be in park & then home & Journ hard till 12 & then bed; & be regular now while in England. Pay no more visits But just stay in closs & pack all, & get books, & make out lists & get boots & breeches in order. Be quite Col. Erskine[.] Begin serious ag[ains]t blabbing & drollery. [ ] turks.2

In the forenoon I was at a Quaker’s meeting, in Lombard-street, & in the Afternoon, at St. Paul’s, where I was very devout, and very happy. After service I stood in the Center & took leave of the Church, bowing to every quarter. I cannot help having a reverence for it. Mr. Johnson says the same. Mr. Johnson said today that a Woman’s preaching was like a Dog’s walking on his hinder legs. It was not done well; But you were surprised to find it done at all.3

MONDAY 1 AUGUST

Sit in all forenoon at Journ. Mem Methodists preaching. Boy & Argonauts Greenwich — Buchanan[,] Johns[t]on[,] Greek & Latin, method of Study[,] Natural Beauty.1 Home by Water. Turk’s head. Go wt. thee &c. &c.

Resolve now study in earnest. Consider you’re not to be so much a Student as a Traveller[.] Be a liberal Student. Learn to be reserved[.] Keep your melancholy to yourself & you’ll easily conceal your joy.

Home all day, save hour wt. Johnson. Be not obstinate as to his going with you2 Tho’ if he does ’tis great. Prepare like Father — Picture in Holland.3

Mark this & keep in Pocket[.] You are not to consider yourself alone. You have a worthy Father whose happiness depends on your behaving so, as at least to give no Offence; & there is a prudent way to save appearances. Be reserved and calm & sustain a consistent character. It will please you when high — & when low it will be a sure comfort tho’ all things seem trifling; & when high again ’twill delight. So when you return to Auchinleck you’ll have dignity

Write Sr. D[avid,] Dr. Blair &c.

I have nothing more to record but that Dempster & I went upon the Thames, and saw the Watermen row for Dogget’s Badge4 & other Prizes. We saw most excellent sport.

TUESDAY 2 AUGUST

Let this be a laborious day, & stay in all day. Write Sr. D[avid,]1 Blair, Johnst[on] Treesbank,2 J. Bruce, Johny,Davie,3 & Doctor John or divide them for two Posts — Bring up Journ. Be wt. Johnson at 2 & dress at 3. Give out linnens & pack up — & be placid & get into grave humour for Journey & write out Instructions. &c.

I should have mentioned yesterday, that I dined with Coutts, where we were very merry. Friday the fifth of this Month was now fixed as the day of my departure. I had taken leave of Doctor Pringle, and had all my letters of recommendation and other things prepared. Mr. Johnson did me the honour to come & see me at my chambers, this forenoon. Dempster too came in. Johnson said that he allways felt an inclination to do nothing. I said it was strange to think that the most indolent Man in Britain had written the most laborious work, The English Dictionary. He said he took ten years to do it; but that if he had applyed properly, he might have done it in three. In the Afternoon he carried me to drink tea with Miss Williams who has a snug lodging in Bolt-court Fleet-street. I found her a facetious4 agreable Woman, tho’ stone blind. I was chearfull, & well received. He then carried me to what he called his Walk; which is a paved long court overshadowed by some trees in a neighbouring Garden. There he advised me when fixed in a place, abroad[,] to read with a keen[n]ess after knowledge, & to read every day an hour at greek; And when I was moving about, to read diligently the great book of Mankind. We supt at the Turk’s head; I was somewhat melancholy; but it went off. Mr. Johnson filled my mind with so many noble and just sentiments that the Dæmon of despondency was driven away.

WEDNESDAY 3 AUGUST

I should have mentioned that on Monday night, coming up the Strand, I was tapp’d on the shoulder by a fine fresh lass. I went home with her. She was an Officer’s daughter, & born at Gibraltar. I could not resist indulging myself with the enjoyment of her. Surely, in such a Situation, when the Woman is allready abandoned, the crime must be alleviated, tho’ in strict morality, illicite love is allways wrong.

I last night sat up again, but I shall do so, no more, for I was very stupid today & had a kind of feverish headach. At night Mr. Johnson and I supt at the Turk’s head; He talked much for restoring the Convocation of the Church of England to it’s full powers,1 & said that Religion was much assisted & imprest on the Mind, by external Pomp. My want of Sleep sat heavy upon me; & made me like to nodd, even in Mr. Johnson’s company. Such must be the case while we are united with flesh and blood.

THURSDAY 4 AUGUST

Memorandum1

Set out for Harwich like Father grave & comfortable. Be alert all along, yet composed. Speak little — make no intimates. Be in earnest to improve. It is not you alone concerned — but your worthy father. Be reserved in Grief; You’ll be so, in Joy. Go abroad with a manly resolution to improve, & corespond with Johnson. Be gratefull to him. See to attain a fixed & consistent character to have dignity. Never despair.

Remember Johnson’s precepts on experience of mankind. Consider there is truth. Consider that when you come home with a settled composure you will enjoy life much, without exhausting spirits & setting yourself up as a Buffoon or a jolly dog. Study like Lord Chesterfield2 manly. Your’e your own master quite. Accustom yourself not to vent your feelings & be never querulous & so resemble Johnson.

Study Philosophy & so have mind allways calm. Your mind will strengthen by years. Give it only fair play.

This is now my last day in London before I set out upon my travels, and makes a very important period in my Journal. Let me recollect my life, since this Journal began. Has it not past like a dream? Yes, but I have been attaining a knowledge of the World. I came to town to go into the Guards. How different is my Scheme now! I am now upon a less pleasurable but a more rational and lasting plan. Let me pursue it with Steadiness, and I may be a Man of dignity. My mind is strangely agitated. I am happy to think of going upon my travels and seeing the diversity of foreign parts; and yet my feeble Mind shrinks somewhat at the idea of leaving Britain in so very short a time from the moment in which I now make this remark. How strange must I feel myself in foreign parts. My mind too is gloomy and dejected at the thoughts of leaving London, where I am so comfortably situated, & where I have enjoyed most happiness. However, I shall be the happier for being abroad, as long as I live. Let me be Manly. Let me commit myself to the care of my mercifull Creator.

The end of My Journal before my Travels

[Continued from the first draft of the manuscript Life of Johnson]

On Thursday the 4 August I saw him but little as I was running all over the town taking leave of friends, but he promised to be in readiness to set out with me early next morning in the Harwich Stage coach, which we accordingly did.

[FRIDAY 5 AUGUST]

We were in all six passengers of whom a fat Gentlewoman and a Young Dutchman seemed most inclined for conversation. At the Inn where we dined the Gentlewoman said that she had done her best to educate her children; & for one thing she had never suffered them to be a moment idle. ‘I wish Madam’ said Johnson, ‘you would educate me too; for I have been idle all my life.’ ‘I am sure Sir’ said she ‘you have not been idle.’ Johnson. ‘Nay Madam it is very true; and that Gentleman there’ (pointing to me) ‘has been idle. He was idle at Edinburgh. His Father sent him to Glasgow where he continued to be idle. He then came to London where he has been very idle, and now he is going to Utrecht where he will be as idle as ever.’

I afterwards asked him privately how he could expose me so? ‘Poh poh’ said he, ‘they knew nothing about you & will think of it no more.’ In the afternoon the Gentlewoman talked violently against the Roman Catholicks, and how horrible the Inquisition1 was. To the utter astonishment of all the passengers but myself,2 he defended the Inquisition, and maintained that ‘false doctrine should be checked on its first appearance; that the Civil Power should unite with the church in punishing those who dared to attack the established Religion, and that such only were punished by the Inquisition.’ He had in his pocket Pomponius Mela de situ orbis3 in which he read occasionally and seemed very intent upon ancient Geography. Though by no means niggardly upon the road, his attention to what was generally right was so minute that having observed at one of the stages that I ostentatiously gave a shilling to the coachman, when the custom was for each passenger to give only sixpence, he took me aside and scolded me, saying that what I had done would make the Coachman dis[s]atisfied with all the rest of the passengers who gave him no more than his due. This was a just reprimand; for in whatever way a man may indulge his generosity or his vanity in spending his money, for the sake of other people he ought not to raise the price of any article which is in constant demand.

At Colchester where we lay,4 he talked of that town with veneration for having stood a siege for Charles the First.5 The Dutchman alone now remained with us. He spoke english tolerably well; and thinking to recommend himself to us by expatiating on the superiority of the criminal Jurisprudence of this country over that of Holland, he inveighed against the barbarity of putting an accused person to the torture in order to force a confession. But Johnson was as ready for this as for the Inquisition. ‘Why Sir, you do not I find understand the law of your own country. The torture in Holland is considered as a favour to an accused person; for no man is put to the torture there unless there is as much evidence against him as would amount to conviction in England. An accused person among you therefore has one chance more to escape punishment than those who are tried among us.’6

At supper this night he talked of good eating with uncommon glee, & said, [‘]Some people have a foolish way of not minding or pretending not to mind what they eat. For my part I mind my belly very studiously and very carefully; for I look upon it that he who does not mind his belly will hardly mind anything else.’ This was quite philosophising as John Bull, and he was at the time not only serious but eager. Yet I have heard him at other times talk with great contempt of people who were anxious to gratify their palates and the [206th] Number of his Rambler is a masterly essay against Gulosity.7 His practice indeed I must acknowledge may be considered as casting the ballance of his different opinions upon this subject; for, I never knew any man who relished good eating more than he did.

While we were left by ourselves after the dutchman had gone to bed, I had teised Mr. Johnson with some fanciful apprehensions of unhappiness. A moth flew round the candle and burnt itself. The Sage instantly laid hold of this little incident to admonish me[,] saying with a sly look and in a solemn but quiet tone[,] ‘That creature was its own tormentor, and I believe its name was Boswell.’

[SATURDAY 6 AUGUST]

Next day we got to Harwich to dinner; and my passage in the Pacquet boat to Helvoetsluys being secured and my baggage put on board, we dined at the Inn and sat an hour or two, saying little. As next day was Sunday on which no Stage coach went to London, and Mr. Johnson would not take a post chaise for himself alone[,] I happened to say to Mr. Johnson that it would be terrible if he should not find a speedy opportunity of returning to London, but be confined to so dull a place. ‘Sir’ said he ‘don’t accustom yourself to use big words for little matters. It would not be terrible though I were to be detained here for some time.’ The practice of using words of disproportionate magnitude is no doubt too frequent every where; but I think most remarkably so among the french, of which all who have travelled in France must have been struck with innumerable instances.

We went and looked at the Church1 and having gone into it, & walked up to the Altar, Mr. Johnson whose Piety was constant and fervent sent me to my knees saying ‘Now that you are going to leave your native country, recommend yourself to the protection of your Creator and Redeemer.’

After we came out of the Church we stood talking for some time together of Bishop Berkeley’s ingenious puzzle to prove the nonexistence of matter, and that every thing in the Universe is merely ideal.2 I said though you are satisfied his system is wrong it is impossible to disprove it. I never shall forget the alacrity with which Johnson answered, striking his foot with mighty force against one of the large projecting foundation stones of the Building[,] ‘I refute it thus.’3 This was a stout exemplification of the first truths of Pere Bouffier,4 and the original principles of Reid and Beattie5 without admitting which, we can no more argue in Metaphysicks than we can argue in Mathematicks without admitting Axioms. To me it is not conceivable how Berkeley can be answered by pure reasoning …6

My much revered Friend walked down with me to the beach, where we embraced and parted with mutual tenderness, and engaged to correspond by letters. As the Vessel put out to sea I kept my eyes upon him, for a considerable time while he remained rowling his majestic frame in his usual manner. At last I perceived him walk back into the town, and he disappeared.

Utrecht having at first appeared very dull to me after the animated scenes of London, my spirits were sadly affected …7