hem never can
approve.'

He praised Signor Baretti. 'His account of Italy is a very entertaining
book; and, Sir, I know no man who carries his head higher in
conversation than Baretti. There are strong powers in his mind. He has
not, indeed, many hooks; but with what hooks he has, he grapples very
forcibly.'

At this time I observed upon the dial-plate of his watch a short Greek
inscription, taken from the New Testament, [Greek text omitted], being
the first words of our SAVIOUR'S solemn admonition to the improvement of
that time which is allowed us to prepare for eternity: 'the night
cometh when no man can work.' He sometime afterwards laid aside this
dial-plate; and when I asked him the reason, he said, 'It might do very
well upon a clock which a man keeps in his closet; but to have it upon
his watch which he carries about with him, and which is often looked
at by others, might be censured as ostentatious.' Mr. Steevens is now
possessed of the dial-plate inscribed as above.

He remained at Oxford a considerable time; I was obliged to go to
London, where I received his letter, which had been returned from
Scotland.

'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'MY DEAR BOSWELL,--I have omitted a long time to write to you, without
knowing very well why. I could now tell why I should not write; for who
would write to men who publish the letters of their friends, without
their leave? Yet I write to you in spite of my caution, to tell you that
I shall be glad to see you, and that I wish you would empty your head
of Corsica, which I think has filled it rather too long. But, at
all events, I shall be glad, very glad to see you. I am, Sir, yours
affectionately,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Oxford, March 23, 1768.'

Upon his arrival in London in May, he surprized me one morning with a
visit at my lodgings in Half-Moon-street, was quite satisfied with my
explanation, and was in the kindest and most agreeable frame of mind.
As he had objected to a part of one of his letters being published,
I thought it right to take this opportunity of asking him explicitly
whether it would be improper to publish his letters after his death. His
answer was, 'Nay, Sir, when I am dead, you may do as you will.'

He talked in his usual style with a rough contempt of popular liberty.
'They make a rout about UNIVERSAL liberty, without considering that
all that is to be valued, or indeed can be enjoyed by individuals, is
PRIVATE liberty. Political liberty is good