nversation alone, or what led to it, or was
interwoven with it, is the business of this work.

On Saturday, May 1, we dined by ourselves at our old rendezvous, the
Mitre tavern. He was placid, but not much disposed to talk. He observed
that 'The Irish mix better with the English than the Scotch do; their
language is nearer to English; as a proof of which, they succeed very
well as players, which Scotchmen do not. Then, Sir, they have not that
extreme nationality which we find in the Scotch. I will do you,
Boswell, the justice to say, that you are the most UNSCOTTIFIED of your
countrymen. You are almost the only instance of a Scotchman that I
have known, who did not at every other sentence bring in some other
Scotchman.'

On Friday, May 7, I breakfasted with him at Mr. Thrale's in the Borough.
While we were alone, I endeavoured as well as I could to apologise for
a lady who had been divorced from her husband by act of Parliament. I
said, that he had used her very ill, had behaved brutally to her, and
that she could not continue to live with him without having her delicacy
contaminated; that all affection for him was thus destroyed; that the
essence of conjugal union being gone, there remained only a cold form, a
mere civil obligation; that she was in the prime of life, with qualities
to produce happiness; that these ought not to be lost; and, that the
gentleman on whose account she was divorced had gained her heart while
thus unhappily situated. Seduced, perhaps, by the charms of the lady in
question, I thus attempted to palliate what I was sensible could not be
justified; for when I had finished my harangue, my venerable friend
gave me a proper check: 'My dear Sir, never accustom your mind to mingle
virtue and vice. The woman's a whore, and there's an end on't.'

He described the father of one of his friends thus: 'Sir, he was so
exuberant a talker at publick meeting, that the gentlemen of his county
were afraid of him. No business could be done for his declamation.'

He did not give me full credit when I mentioned that I had carried on a
short conversation by signs with some Esquimaux who were then in London,
particularly with one of them who was a priest. He thought I could not
make them understand me. No man was more incredulous as to particular
facts, which were at all extraordinary; and therefore no man was more
scrupulously inquisitive, in order to discover the truth.

I dined with him this day at the house of