us parsimony.
Let it be your first care not to be in any man's debt.

'When the thoughts are extended to a future state, the present life
seems hardly worthy of all those principles of conduct, and maxims of
prudence, which one generation of men has transmitted to another; but
upon a closer view, when it is perceived how much evil is produced, and
how much good is impeded by embarrassment and distress, and how little
room the expedients of poverty leave for the exercise of virtue, it
grows manifest that the boundless importance of the next life enforces
some attention to the interests of this.

'Be kind to the old servants, and secure the kindness of the agents and
factors; do not disgust them by asperity, or unwelcome gaiety, or
apparent suspicion. From them you must learn the real state of your
affairs, the characters of your tenants, and the value of your
lands[483].

'Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell; I think her expectations from air
and exercise are the best that she can form. I hope she will live long
and happily.

'I forget whether I told you that Rasay[484] has been here; we dined
cheerfully together. I entertained lately a young gentleman from
Corrichatachin[485].

'I received your letters only this morning. I am, dear Sir,

'Yours &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'London, Sept. 7, 1782.'

In answer to my next letter, I received one from him, dissuading me from
hastening to him as I had proposed[486]; what is proper for publication
is the following paragraph, equally just and tender:--

'One expence, however, I would not have you to spare: let nothing be
omitted that can preserve Mrs. Boswell, though it should be necessary to
transplant her for a time into a softer climate. She is the prop and
stay of your life. How much must your children suffer by losing her.'

My wife was now so much convinced of his sincere friendship for me, and
regard for her, that, without any suggestion on my part, she wrote him a
very polite and grateful letter:--

'DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. BOSWELL.

'DEAR LADY,

'I have not often received so much pleasure as from your invitation to
Auchinleck. The journey thither and back is, indeed, too great for the
latter part of the year; but if my health were fully recovered, I would
suffer no little heat and cold, nor a wet or a rough road to keep me
from you. I am, indeed, not without hope of seeing Auchinleck again; but
to make it a pleasant place I must see its lady well, and brisk, an