Dined at Clapham, at Mr. Smiths. Dr. Kippis, Dr. Reese, Dr. Harris, Mr. Pais, Mr.
Towgood and his two Sons, Mr. Channing were the Company.1
Mr. Pais told a Story, admirably well of a Philosopher, and a Scotsman. The Wit attempted
to divert himself, by asking the Scot if he knew the immense Distance to Heaven? It
was so many Millions of Diameters of the Solar System, and a Cannon Ball would be
so many Thousand Years in running there. I dont know the Distance nor the Time says
the Scot, but I know it will not take you a Millionth part of the Time to go to Hell.—The
Scottish Dialect, and Accent was admirably imitated. The Conversation was uniformly
agreable. Nothing to interrupt it.