When we were alone, I introduced the subject of death, and endeavoured to maintain that the fear of it might be got over.  I told him that David Hume said to me, he was no more uneasy to think he should not be after this life, than that he had not been before he began to exist.  Johnson.  Sir, if he really thinks so, his perceptions are disturbed; he is mad:  if he does not think so, he lies.  He may tell you, he holds his finger in the flame of a candle, without feeling pain; would you believe him?  When he dies, he at least gives up all he has.’  Boswell.  ’Foote, Sir, told me, that when he was very ill he was not afraid to die.’  Johnson.  ’It is not true, Sir.  Hold a pistol to Foote’s breast, or to Hume’s breast, and threaten to kill them, and you’ll see how they behave.’  Boswell.  ‘But may we not fortify our minds for the approach of death?’ Here I am sensible I was in the wrong, to bring before his view what he ever looked upon with horrour; for although when in a celestial frame, in his Vanity of Human Wishes he has supposed death to be ’kind Nature’s signal for retreat,’ from this state of being to ‘a happier seat,’ his thoughts upon this aweful change were in general full of dismal apprehensions.  His mind resembled the vast amphitheatre, the Colisaeum at Rome.  In the centre stood his judgement, which, like a mighty gladiator, combated those apprehensions that, like the wild beasts of the Arena, were all around in cells, ready to be let out upon him.  After a conflict, he drives them back into their dens; but not killing them, they were still assailing him.  To my question, whether we might not fortify our minds for the approach of death, he answered, in a passion, ’No, Sir, let it alone.  It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives.  The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a time.’  He added, (with an earnest look,) ’A man knows it must be so, and submits.  It will do him no good to whine.’

I attempted to continue the conversation.  He was so provoked, that he said, ‘Give us no more of this;’ and was thrown into such a state of agitation, that he expressed himself in a way that alarmed and distressed me; shewed an impatience that I should leave him, and when I was going away, called to me sternly, ‘Don’t let us meet tomorrow.’

I went home exceedingly uneasy.  All the harsh observations which I had ever heard made upon his character, crowded into my mind; and I seemed to myself like the man who had put his head into the lion’s mouth a great many times with perfect safety, but at last had it bit off.

Next morning I sent him a note, stating, that I might have been in the wrong, but it was not intentionally; he was therefore, I could not help thinking, too severe upon me.  That notwithstanding our agreement not to meet that day, I would call on him in my way to the city, and stay five minutes by my watch.  ’You are, (said I,) in my mind, since last night, surrounded with cloud and storm.  Let me have a glimpse of sunshine, and go about my affairs in serenity and chearfulness.’