ith
transient notice; so that the images, for want of that reimpression
which discussion and comparison produce, easily fade away; but I keep a
book of remarks, and Boswell writes a regular journal of our travels,
which, I think, contains as much of what I say and do, as of all other
occurrences together; "for such a faithful chronicler as Griffith."

I hope, dearest madam, you are equally careful to reposit proper
memorials of all that happens to you and your family, and then, when we
meet, we shall tell our stories. I wish you had gone this summer, in
your usual splendour, to Brighthelmstone.

Mr. Thrale probably wonders, how I live all this time without sending to
him for money. Travelling in Scotland is dear enough, dearer, in
proportion to what the country affords, than in England, but residence
in the isles is unexpensive. Company is, I think, considered as a supply
of pleasure, and a relief of that tediousness of life which is felt in
every place, elegant or rude. Of wine and punch they are very liberal,
for they get them cheap; but as there is no custom-house on the island,
they can hardly be considered as smugglers. Their punch is made without
lemons, or any substitute.

Their tables are very plentiful; but a very nice man would not be
pampered. As they have no meat but as they kill it, they are obliged to
live, while it lasts, upon the same flesh. They kill a sheep, and set
mutton boiled and roast on the table together. They have fish, both of
the sea and of the brooks; but they can hardly conceive that it requires
any sauce. To sauce, in general, they are strangers: now and then butter
is melted, but I dare not always take, lest I should offend by disliking
it. Barley broth is a constant dish, and is made well in every house. A
stranger, if he is prudent, will secure his share, for it is not certain
that he will be able to eat any thing else.

Their meat, being often newly killed, is very tough, and, as nothing is
sufficiently subdued by the fire, is not easily to be eaten. Carving is
here a very laborious employment, for the knives are never whetted.
Table knives are not of long subsistence in the highlands: every man,
while arms were a regular part of dress, had his knife and fork
appendant to his dirk. Knives they now lay upon the table, but the
handles are apt to show that they have been in other hands, and the
blades have neither brightness nor edge.

Of silver, there is no want, and it will last lo