On Sunday, October 10, we dined together at Mr. Strahan’s.  The conversation having turned on the prevailing practice of going to the East-Indies in quest of wealth;—­Johnson.  ’A man had better have ten thousand pounds at the end of ten years passed in England, than twenty thousand pounds at the end of ten years passed in India, because you must compute what you give for money; and a man who has lived ten years in India, has given up ten years of social comfort and all those advantages which arise from living in England.  The ingenious Mr. Brown, distinguished by the name of Capability Brown, told me, that he was once at the seat of Lord Clive, who had returned from India with great wealth; and that he shewed him at the door of his bed-chamber a large chest, which he said he had once had full of gold; upon which Brown observed, “I am glad you can bear it so near your bed-chamber."’

We talked of the state of the poor in London.—­Johnson.  ’Saunders Welch, the Justice, who was once High-Constable of Holborn, and had the best opportunities of knowing the state of the poor, told me, that I under-rated the number, when I computed that twenty a week, that is, above a thousand a year, died of hunger; not absolutely of immediate hunger; but of the wasting and other diseases which are the consequences of hunger.  This happens only in so large a place as London, where people are not known.  What we are told about the great sums got by begging is not true:  the trade is overstocked.  And, you may depend upon it, there are many who cannot get work.  A particular kind of manufacture fails:  those who have been used to work at it, can, for some time, work at nothing else.  You meet a man begging; you charge him with idleness:  he says, “I am willing to labour.  Will you give me work?”—­“I cannot.”—­“Why, then you have no right to charge me with idleness."’ We left Mr. Strahan’s at seven, as Johnson had said he intended to go to evening prayers.  As we walked along, he complained of a little gout in his toe, and said, ’I shan’t go to prayers to-night; I shall go to-morrow:  Whenever I miss church on a Sunday, I resolve to go another day.  But I do not always do it.’  This was a fair exhibition of that vibration between pious resolutions and indolence, which many of us have too often experienced.

I went home with him, and we had a long quiet conversation.

Boswell.  ’Why, Sir, do people play this trick which I observe now, when I look at your grate, putting the shovel against it to make the fire burn?’ Johnson.  ’They play the trick, but it does not make the fire burn.  There is a better; (setting the poker perpendicularly up at right angles with the grate.) In days of superstition they thought, as it made a cross with the bars, it would drive away the witch.’

Boswell.  ’By associating with you, Sir, I am always getting an accession of wisdom.  But perhaps a man, after knowing his own character—­the limited strength of his own mind, should not be desirous of having too much wisdom, considering, quid valeant humeri, how little he can carry.’  Johnson.  ’Sir, be as wise as you can; let a man be aliis laetus, sapiens sibi: