In the evening I came to him again.  He was somewhat fretful from his illness.  A gentleman asked him, whether he had been abroad to-day.  ’Don’t talk so childishly, (said he.) You may as well ask if I hanged myself to-day.’  I mentioned politicks.  Johnson.  ’Sir, I’d as soon have a man to break my bones as talk to me of publick affairs, internal or external.  I have lived to see things all as bad as they can be.’

He said, ’Goldsmith’s blundering speech to Lord Shelburne, which has been so often mentioned, and which he really did make to him, was only a blunder in emphasis:  “I wonder they should call your Lordship Malagrida, for Malagrida was a very good man;” meant, I wonder they should use Malagrida as a term of reproach.’

Soon after this time I had an opportunity of seeing, by means of one of his friends, a proof that his talents, as well as his obliging service to authours, were ready as ever.  He had revised The Village, an admirable poem, by the Reverend Mr. Crabbe.  Its sentiments as to the false notions of rustick happiness and rustick virtue were quite congenial with his own; and he had taken the trouble not only to suggest slight corrections and variations, but to furnish some lines, when he thought he could give the writer’s meaning better than in the words of the manuscript.

On Sunday, March 30, I found him at home in the evening, and had the pleasure to meet with Dr. Brocklesby, whose reading, and knowledge of life, and good spirits, supply him with a never-failing source of conversation.

I shall here insert a few of Johnson’s sayings, without the formality of dates, as they have no reference to any particular time or place.

‘The more a man extends and varies his acquaintance the better.’  This, however, was meant with a just restriction; for, he on another occasion said to me, ’Sir, a man may be so much of every thing, that he is nothing of any thing.’

’It is a very good custom to keep a journal for a man’s own use; he may write upon a card a day all that is necessary to be written, after he has had experience of life.  At first there is a great deal to be written, because there is a great deal of novelty; but when once a man has settled his opinions, there is seldom much to be set down.’

Talking of an acquaintance of ours, whose narratives, which abounded in curious and interesting topicks, were unhappily found to be very fabulous; I mentioned Lord Mansfield’s having said to me, ’Suppose we believe one half of what he tells.’  Johnson.  ’Ay; but we don’t know which half to believe.  By his lying we lose not only our reverence for him, but all comfort in his conversation.’  Boswell.  ’May we not take it as amusing fiction?’ Johnson.  ’Sir, the misfortune is, that you will insensibly believe as much of it as you incline to believe.’