A journey to Italy was once in his thoughts. He said, "A man who has not been in Italy is always conscious of an inferiority, from his not having seen what it is expected a man should see. The grand object of travelling is to see the shores of the Mediterranean. On those shores were the four great Empires of the world; the Assyrian, the Persian, the Grecian, and the Roman. All our religion, almost all our law, almost all our arts, almost all that sets us above savages, has come to us from the shores of the Mediterranean." It was observed, that 'THE MEDITERRANEAN Would be a noble subject for a poem.'

He upon all occasions shewed an aversion to go to Ireland, where Mr. B. proposed to him that they should make a tour.-JOHNSON. "It is the last place where I should wish to travel."-BosWELL. "Should you not like to see Dublin, Sir?" -J." No Sir; Dublin is only a worse capital."— B. "Is not the Giant's Causeway worth seeing?" -J. "Worth seeing, yes; but not worth going

to see."

Yet he had a kindness for the Irish nation, and thus generously expressed himself to a gentleman from that country, on the subject of an UNION, which artful politicians often had in view;-" Do not make an union with us, Sir. We should unite with you only to rob you.-We should have

robbed the Scotch, if they had had any thing of which we could have robbed them."

It was his opinion that the information we have from modern travellers is much more authentic than what we had from ancient travellers."Ancient travellers (said he) guessed; modern travellers measure. The Swiss admit that there is but one error in Stanyan. If Brydone were more attentive to his Bible, he would be a good traveller."

Mr. Boswell once asked him if modesty was not natural.-JOHNSON. "I cannot say, Sir, as we find no people quite in a state of nature;— but I think the more they are taught, the more modest they are. The French are a gross, illbred, untaught people; a lady there will spit on the floor and rub it with her foot. What I gained by being in France was, learning to be better satisfied with my own country. Time may be employed to more advantage from nineteen to twenty-four almost in any way than in travelling: when you set travelling against mere negation, against doing nothing, it is better, to be sure; but how much more would a young man improve were he to study during those years. Indeed, if a young man is wild, and must run after women and bad company, it is better this should be done abroad, as, on his return, he can

break off such connections, and begin at home a new man, with a character to form, and acquaintances to make. How little does travelling supply to the conversation of any man who has travelled; how little to Beauclerk;"-B." What say you to Lord ———— .?"-J." I never but

once heard him talk of what he had seen, and that was of a large serpent in one of the pyramids. of Egypt."-B. "Well, I happened to hear him tell the same thing, which made me mention him."

Of a young female tourist, he said, "Miss Nancy has doubtless kept a constant and copious journal. Let her review her journal often, and set down what she knows herself to have omitted, that she may trust to memory as little as possible, for memory is soon confused by a quick succession of things; and she will grow every day less conscious of the truth of her own narratives unless she can recur to some written memorials. If she has satisfied herself with hints, instead of full representations, let her supply the deficiencies now, while her memory is yet fresh, and while her father's memory may help her. If she observes this direction, she will not have travelled in vain; for she will bring home a book with which she may entertain herself to the end of life. If it were not now too late, I would ad

vise her to note the impression which the first sight of any thing new and wonderful made upon her mind. Let her now set her thoughts down as she can recollect them; for faint as they may already be, they will grow every day fainter."

One day dining at an excellent inn, he expatiated on the felicity of England in its taverns and inns, and triumphed over the French for not having, in any perfection, the tavern life.-"There is no private house (said he) in which people can enjoy themselves so well, as at a capital tavern. Let there be ever so great plenty of good things, ever so much grandeur, ever so much elegance, ever so much desire that every body should be easy; in the nature of things it cannot be there must always be some degree of care and anxiety. The master of the house is anxious to entertain his guests; the guests are anxious to be agreeable to him; and no man, but a very impudent dog indeed, can as freely command what is in another man's house, as if it were his own. Whereas, at a tavern, there is a general freedom from anxiety. You are sure you are welcome; and the more noise you make, the more trouble you give, the more good things you call for, the welcomer you are. No servants will attend you with the alacrity which waiters do, who are incited by the prospect of an immediate reward in proportion as they please. No,

Sir; there is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn *". He then repeated, with great emotion, Shenstone's lines:

"Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round,
"Where'er his stages may have been,
"May sigh to think he still has found
"The warmest welcome at an inn."

* Sir John Hawkins (says Mr. B.) has preserved very few Memorabilia of Johnson. There is, however, to be found, in his bulky tome, a very excellent one upon this subject. "In contradiction to those who, having a wife and children, prefer domestic enjoyment to those which a tavern affords, I have heard him assert, that a tavern chair was the throne of human felicity. As soon (said he) as I enter the door of a tavern, I experience an oblivion of care, and a freedom from solicitude; when I am seated, I find the master courteous, and the servants obsequious to my call; anxious to know and ready to supply my wants: wine there exhilarates my spirits, and prompts me to free conversation and an interchange of discourse with those whom I most love: I dogmatise and am contradicted, and in this conflict of opinions and sentiments I find delight." "