Mr. Eliot mentioned a curious liquor peculiar to his country, which the Cornish fishermen drink.  They call it Mahogany; and it is made of two parts gin, and one part treacle, well beaten together.  I begged to have some of it made, which was done with proper skill by Mr. Eliot.  I thought it very good liquor; and said it was a counterpart of what is called Athol Porridge in the Highlands of Scotland, which is a mixture of whisky and honey.  Johnson said, ’that must be a better liquor than the Cornish, for both its component parts are better.’  He also observed, ’Mahogany must be a modern name; for it is not long since the wood called mahogany was known in this country.’  I mentioned his scale of liquors;—­claret for boys,—­port for men,—­brandy for heroes.  ’Then (said Mr. Burke,) let me have claret:  I love to be a boy; to have the careless gaiety of boyish days.’  Johnson.  ’I should drink claret too, if it would give me that; but it does not:  it neither makes boys men, nor men boys.  You’ll be drowned by it, before it has any effect upon you.’

I ventured to mention a ludicrous paragraph in the newspapers, that Dr. Johnson was learning to dance of Vestris.  Lord Charlemont, wishing to excite him to talk, proposed in a whisper, that he should be asked, whether it was true.  ‘Shall I ask him?’ said his Lordship.  We were, by a great majority, clear for the experiment.  Upon which his Lordship very gravely, and with a courteous air said, ’Pray, Sir, is it true that you are taking lessons of Vestris?’ This was risking a good deal, and required the boldness of a General of Irish Volunteers to make the attempt.  Johnson was at first startled, and in some heat answered, ’How can your Lordship ask so simple a question?’ But immediately recovering himself, whether from unwillingness to be deceived, or to appear deceived, or whether from real good humour, he kept up the joke:  ’Nay, but if any body were to answer the paragraph, and contradict it, I’d have a reply, and would say, that he who contradicted it was no friend either to Vestris or me.  For why should not Dr. Johnson add to his other powers a little corporeal agility?  Socrates learnt to dance at an advanced age, and Cato learnt Greek at an advanced age.  Then it might proceed to say, that this Johnson, not content with dancing on the ground, might dance on the rope; and they might introduce the elephant dancing on the rope.’

On Sunday, April 1, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale’s, with Sir Philip Jennings Clerk and Mr. Perkins, who had the superintendence of Mr. Thrale’s brewery, with a salary of five hundred pounds a year.  Sir Philip had the appearance of a gentleman of ancient family, well advanced in life.  He wore his own white hair in a bag of goodly size, a black velvet coat, with an embroidered waistcoat, and very rich laced ruffles; which Mrs. Thrale said were old fashioned, but which, for that reason, I thought the more respectable, more like a Tory; yet Sir Philip was then in Opposition