On Tuesday, July 18, I found tall Sir Thomas Robinson sitting with Johnson.  Sir Thomas said, that the king of Prussia valued himself upon three things;—­upon being a hero, a musician, and an authour.  Johnson.  ’Pretty well, Sir, for one man.  As to his being an authour, I have not looked at his poetry; but his prose is poor stuff.  He writes just as you might suppose Voltaire’s footboy to do, who has been his amanuensis.  He has such parts as the valet might have, and about as much of the colouring of the style as might be got by transcribing his works.’  When I was at Ferney, I repeated this to Voltaire, in order to reconcile him somewhat to Johnson, whom he, in affecting the English mode of expression, had previously characterised as ‘a superstitious dog;’ but after hearing such a criticism on Frederick the Great, with whom he was then on bad terms, he exclaimed, ‘An honest fellow!’

Mr. Levet this day shewed me Dr. Johnson’s library, which was contained in two garrets over his Chambers, where Lintot, son of the celebrated bookseller of that name, had formerly his warehouse.  I found a number of good books, but very dusty and in great confusion.  The floor was strewed with manuscript leaves, in Johnson’s own handwriting, which I beheld with a degree of veneration, supposing they perhaps might contain portions of The Rambler or of Rasselas.  I observed an apparatus for chymical experiments, of which Johnson was all his life very fond.  The place seemed to be very favourable for retirement and meditation.  Johnson told me, that he went up thither without mentioning it to his servant, when he wanted to study, secure from interruption; for he would not allow his servant to say he was not at home when he really was.  ’A servant’s strict regard for truth, (said he) must be weakened by such a practice.  A philosopher may know that it is merely a form of denial; but few servants are such nice distinguishers.  If I accustom a servant to tell a lie for me, have I not reason to apprehend that he will tell many lies for himself.’

Mr. Temple, now vicar of St. Gluvias, Cornwall, who had been my intimate friend for many years, had at this time chambers in Farrar’s-buildings, at the bottom of Inner Temple-lane, which he kindly lent me upon my quitting my lodgings, he being to return to Trinity Hall, Cambridge.  I found them particularly convenient for me, as they were so near Dr. Johnson’s.

On Wednesday, July 20, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Dempster, and my uncle Dr. Boswell, who happened to be now in London, supped with me at these Chambers.  Johnson.  ’Pity is not natural to man.  Children are always cruel.  Savages are always cruel.  Pity is acquired and improved by the cultivation of reason.  We may have uneasy sensations from seeing a creature in distress, without pity; for we have not pity unless we wish to relieve them.  When I am on my way to dine with a friend, and finding it late, have bid the coachman make haste, if I happen to attend when he whips his horses, I may feel unpleasantly that the animals are put to pain, but I do not wish him to desist.  No, Sir, I wish him to drive on.’