its being shown both to themselves and to the world. E. The House of Commons is a mixed body. (I except the Minority, which I hold to be pure [smiling] but I take the whole house.) It is a mass by no means pure; but neither is it wholly corrupt, though there is a large proportion of corruption in it. There are many members who generally go with the minister, who will not go all lengths. There are many honest well-meaning country gentlemen who are in parliament only to keep up the consequence of their families. Upon most of these a good speech will have influence. Johnson. We are all more or less governed by interest. But interest will not make us do every thing. In a case which admits of doubt, we try to think on the side which is for our interest, and generally bring ourselves to act accordingly. But the subject must admit of diversity of colouring; it must receive a colour on that side. In the House of Commons there are members enough who will not vote what is grossly unjust or absurd. No, Sir, there must always be right enough, or appearance of right, to keep wrong in countenance. Boswell. There is surely always a majority in parliament who have places, or who want to have them, and who therefore will be generally ready to support government without requiring any pretext. E. True, Sir; that majority will always follow

"Quo clamor vocat et turba faventium."

Boswell. Well now, let us take the common phrase, Place-hunters. I thought they had hunted without regard to any thing, just as their huntsman, the Minister, leads, looking only to the prey. J. But taking your metaphor, you know that in hunting there are few so desperately keen as to follow without reserve. Some do not choose to leap ditches and hedges and risk their necks, or gallop over steeps, or even to dirty themselves in bogs and mire. Boswell. I am glad there are some good, quiet, moderate, political hunters. E. I believe in any body of men in England I should have been in the Minority; I have always been in the Minority. P. The House of Commons resembles a private company. How seldom is any man convinced by another's argument; passion and pride rise against it. R. What would be the consequence, if a Minister, sure of a majority in the House of Commons, should resolve that there should be no speaking at all upon his side. E. He must soon go out. That has been tried; but it was found it would not do.

E. The Irish language is not primitive; it is Teutonic, a mixture of the northern tongues; it has much English in it. Johnson. It may have been originally Teutonic; but English and High Dutch have no similarity to the eye, though radically the same. Once when looking into Low Dutch, I found, in a whole page, only one word similar to English; stroem like stream, and it signified tide. E. I remember having seen a Dutch Sounet, in which I found this word, roesnopies. Nobody would think at first that this could be English; but when we enquire, we find roes, rose and nopie, kuob; so we have rosebuds

Johnson. I have been reading Thicknesse's Travels, which I think are entertaining. Boswell. What, Sir, a good book? Johnson. Yes, Sir, to read once; I do not say you are to make a study of it, and digest it; and I believe it to be a true book in his intentiou. All travellers generally mean to tell truth; though Thicknesse observes, upon Smollett's account of his alarming a whole town in France by firing a blunderbuss, and frightening a French nobleman till he made him tie on his portmanteau, that he would be loth to say Smollet had told two lies in one page; but he had found the only town in France where these things could have happened. Travellers must often be mistaken. In every thing, except where mensuration can be applied, they may honestly differ. There has been, of late, a strange turn in travellers to be displeased.

E. From the experience which I have had,—and I have had a great deal,-I have learnt to think better of mankind. Johnson. From my experience I have found them worse in commercial dealings, more disposed to cheat, than I had any notion of; but more disposed to do one another good than I had conceived. J. Less just and more beneficent. Johnson. And really it is wonderful, considering how much attenaion is necessary for men to take care of themselves, and ward off immediate evils which press upon them, it is wonderful how much they do for others. As it is said of the greatest liar, that he tells more truth than falsehood; so it may be said of the worst man, that he does more good than evil. Boswell, Perhaps from experience inen may be found happier than we suppose. Johnson. No, Sir; the more we enquire we shall find men the less happy. P. As to thinking better or worse of mankind from experience, some cunning people will not he satisfied unless they have put men to the test, as they think. There is a very good story told of Sir Godfrey Kneller, in his character of a justice of the peace. A gentleman brought his servant before him, upon an accusation of having stoleu some money from him; but it having come out that he had laid it purposely in the servant's way, in order to try his honesty, Sir Godfrey sent the master to prison? Johnson. To resist temptation once, is not a sufficient proof of honesty. If a servant, indeed, were to resist the continued temptation of silver lying in a window, as some people let it lye, when he is sure his master does not know how much there is of it, he would give a strong proof of honesty. But this is a proof to which you have no right to put a man. You know, humanly speaking, there is a certain degree of temptation, which will overcome any virtue. Now, in so far as you approach temptation to a man, you do him an injury; and, if he is overcome, you share is guilt. P. And when once overcome, it is easier for him to be got the better of again. Boswell. Yes, you are his seducer; you have debauched him. I have known a man resolve to put friendship to the test, by asking a friend to lend him money, merely with that view, when he did not want it. Johnson. That is very wrong, Sir. Your friend may be a narrow

man, and have yet many good qualities: narrowness may be his only

fault. Now you are trying his general character as a friend by one particular singly, in which he happens to be defective, when, in truth, his character is composed of many particulars.

E. I understand the hogshead of claret, which this society was favoured with by our friend the Dean, is nearly out; I think he should be written to, to send another of the same kind. Let the request be made with a happy ambiguity of expression, so that we may have the chance of his sending it also as a present. Johnson. I am willing to offer my services as secretary on this occasion. P. As many as are for Dr. Johuson being secretary hold up your hands.-Carried unanimously. Boswell. He will be our Dictator. Johnson. No, the company is to dictate to me. I am only to write for wine; and I am quite disinterested, as I drink none; I shall not be suspected of having forged the application. I am no more than humble scribe. E. Then you shall prescribe. Boswell. Very well. The first play of words to-day. J. No, no; the bulls in Ireland. Johuson. Were I your Dictator, you should have no wine. It would be my business cavere ne quid detrimenti Respublica caperet, and wine is dangerous. Rome was ruined by luxury. (smiling.) E. If you allow no wine as Dictator, you shall not have me for your master of horse.

On Saturday, April 4, I drank tea with Johnson at Dr. Taylor's. where he had dined. He entertained us with an account of a tragedy written by a Dr. Kennedy, (not the Lisbon physician.) "The catastrophe of it (said he) was, that a King, who was jealous of his Queen with his prime-minister, castrated himself. This tragedy was actually shewn about in manuscript to several people, and, amongst others, to Mr. Fitzherbert, who repeated to me two lines of the Prologue:

"Our hero's fate we have but gently touch'd;

" The fair might blame us, if it were less couch'd,'

It is hardly to believed what absurd and indecent images men will introduce into their writings, without being sensible of the absurdity and indecency. I remember Lord Orrery told me, that there was a pamphlet written against Sir Robert Walpole, the whole of which was an allegory on the PHALLIC OBSCENITY. The Duchess of Buckingham asked Lord Orrery who this person was? He answered he did not know. She said, she would send to Mr. Pulteney, who, she supposed, could inform her. So then, to preveut her from making herself ridiculous, Lord Orrery sent her Grace a note, in which he gave her to understand what was

meant.

He was very silent this evening; and read in a variety of books: suddenly throwing down one, and taking up another.

He talked of going to Streatham that night. Taylor. You'll be robbed, if you do: or you must shoot a highwayman. Now I would rather be robbed than do that; I would not shoot a highwayman. John

s›n. But I would rather shoot him in the instant when he is attempting to rob me, than afterwards swear against him at the Old Baily, to take away his life, after he had robbed me. I am surer I am right in the one case, than in the other. I may be mistaken as to the man when I swear; I cannot be mistaken, if I shoot him in the act. Besides, we feel less reluctance to take away a man's life, when we are heated by the injury, than to do it at a distance of time by an oath, after we have cooled. Boswell. So, Sir, you would rather act from the motive of private passion, than that of public advantage. Johnson. Nay, Sir, when I shoot the highwayman, I act from both. Boswell. Very well, very well.-There is no catching him. Johnson. At the same time, one does not know what to say. For perhaps one may, a year after, hang himself from uneasiness for having shot a highwayman. Few minds are fit to be trusted with so great a thing. Boswell. Then, Sir, you would not shoot him? Johnson. But I might be vexed afterwards for that too.

Thrale's carriage not having come for him, as he expected, I accompanied him some part of the way home to his own house. I told him, that I had talked of him to Mr. Dunning a few days before, and had said, that in his company we did not so much interchange conversation, as listen to him; and that Dunning observed, upon this, Oue is always willing to listen to Dr. Johnson; to which I answered, That is a great deal from you, Sir.-Yes, Sir, (said Johnson,) a great deal indeed. Here is a man willing to listen, to whom the world is listening all the rest of the year. Boswell. I think, Sir, it is right to tell one man of such a handsome thing, which has been said of him by another. It tends to increase benevolence." Johnson. Undoubtedly it is right, Sir.

On Tuesday, April 7. I breakfasted with him at his house. He said, nobody was content. I mentioned to him a respectable person in Scotland whom he knew: and I asserted, that I really believed he was always content. Johnson. No, Sir, he is not conteut with the present; he has always some new scheme, some new plantation, something which is future. You know he was not content as a widower; for he married again. Boswell. But he is not restless. Johnson. Sir, he is only locally at rest. A chymist is locally at rest; but his mind is hard at work. This gentleman has done with external exertions. It is too late for him to engage in distant projects." Boswell. He seems to amuse himself quite well; to have his attention fixed, and his tranquillity preserved, by very small matters. I have tried this; but it would not do with me. Johnson. (laughing) No. Sir; it must be born with a man to be contented with little things. Women have a great advantage that they may take up with little things, without disgracing themselves: a man caunot, except with fiddling. Had I learnt to fiddle, I should have done nothing else. Boswell. Pray, Sir, did you ever play on any musical instrument? Johnson. No, Sir. I once bought me a flagelet; but I never made out a tune. Boswell. A flagelet, Sir !—so small an instrument? I should have liked to hear you play on the violoncello. That

should have been your instrument. Johnson. Sir, I might as well have played on the violoncello as another; but I should have done nothing else. No, Sir; a man would never undertake great things, could he be amused with small. I once tried knotting. Dempster's sister undertook to teach me; but I could not learn it. Boswell. So, Sir; It will be related in pompous narrative, Once for his amusement he tried knotting; nor did this Hercules disdain the distaff. Johnson. Knitting of stockings is a good amusement. As a freeman of Aberdeen I should be a knitter of stockings. He asked me to go down with him and dine at Mr. Thrale's at Streatham, to which I agreed. I had lent him “ An Account of Scotland, in 1702," written by a man of various enquiry, an English chaplain to a regiment stationed there. Johnson. It is sad stuff, Sir, miserably written, as books in general then were. There is now an elegance of style universally diffused. No man now writes so ill as Martin's Account of the Hebrides is written. A man could not write so ill, if he should try. Set a merchant's clerk now to write, and he'll do better.

He talked to me with serious concern of a certain female friend's "laxity of narration, and inattention to truth."-I am as much vexed (said he) at the ease with which she hears it mentioned to her, as at the thing itself. I told her, Madam, you are contented to hear every day said to you, what the highest of mankind have died for, rather than bear. You know, Sir, the highest of mankind have died rather than bear to be told they had uttered a falsehood. Do talk to her of it: I am weary.

Boswell. Was not Dr. John Campbell a very inaccurate man in his narrative, Sir? He once told me, that he drank thirteen bottles of port at a sitting. Johnson. Why, Sir, I do not know that Campbell ever lied with pen and ink; but you could not entirely depend on any thing he told you in conversation, if there was fact mixed with it. However, I loved Campbell: he was a solid orthodox man: he had a reverence for religion. Though defective in practice, he was religious in principle; and he did nothing grossly wrong that I have heard.

I told him, that I had been present the day before, when Mrs. Montague, the literary lady, sat to Miss Reynolds for her picture; and that she said, "she had bound up Mr. Gibbon's History without the last two offensive chapters; for that she thought the book so far good, as it gave, in an elegant manner, the substance of the bad writers medii ævi, which the late Lord Lyttelton advised her to read." Johnson. Sir, she has not read them: she shews none of this impetuosity to me: she does not know Greek, and, I faucy, knows little Latin. She is willing you should think she knows them; but she does not say she does. Boswell. Mr. Harris, who was present, agreed with her. Johnson. Harris was laughing at her, Sir. Harris is a sound sullen scholar; he does not like interlopers. Harris, however, is a prig, and a bad prig. I looked into his book, and thought he did not understand his own system. Boswell. He says plain things in a forma! and abstract way, to be sure; but his