mind. Rising late in the morning and the untidy state
of his papers seemed unforgivable sins. There is hardly any more moving
picture in the history of mankind than that of the rugged old doctor
pouring out his innocent petitions for greater strength in ordering his
life and bewailing his faults of sluggishness, indulgence at table and
disorderly thoughts. Let us begin with his entry on September 18, 1760,
his fifty-second birthday:

RESOLVED, D.j.

To combat notions of obligation.

To apply to study.

To reclaim imaginations.

To consult the resolves on Tetty's [his wife's] coffin.

To rise early.

To study religion.

To go to church.

To drink less strong liquors.

To keep a journal.

To oppose laziness by doing what is to be done to-morrow.

Rise as early as I can.

Send for books for history of war.

Put books in order.

Scheme of life.

The very human feature of these little notes is that the same good
resolutions appear year after year. Thus, four years after the above, we
find him writing:

Sept. 18, 1764.

This is my 56th birthday, the day on which I have concluded 55 years.

I have outlived many friends, I have felt many sorrows. I have made few
improvements. Since my resolution formed last Easter, I have made no
advancement in knowledge or in goodness; nor do I recollect that I have
endeavored it. I am dejected, but not hopeless.

I resolve,

To study the Scriptures; I hope, in the original languages. Six hundred
and forty verses every Sunday will nearly comprise the Scriptures in a
year.

To read good books; to study theology.

To treasure in my mind passages for recollection.

To rise early; not later than six, if I can; I hope sooner, but as soon
as I can.

To keep a journal, both of employment and of expenses. To keep accounts.

To take care of my health by such means as I have designed.

To set down at night some plan for the morrow.

To-morrow I purpose to regulate my room.

* * * * *

At Easter, 1765, he confesses sadly that he often lies abed until two in
the afternoon; which, after all, was not so deplorable, for he usually
went to bed very late. Boswell has spoken of "the unseasonable hour at
which he had habituated himself to expect the oblivion of repose." On
New Year's Day, 1767, he prays: "Enable me, O Lord, to use all
enjoyments with due temperance, preserve me from unseasonable and
immoderat