We talked of our worthy friend Mr. Langton.  He said, ’I know not who will go to Heaven if Langton does not.  Sir, I could almost say, Sit anima mea cum Langtono.’  I mentioned a very eminent friend as a virtuous man.  Johnson.  ’Yes, Sir; but ------ has not the evangelical virtue of Langton. ------, I am afraid, would not scruple to pick up a wench.’

He however charged Mr. Langton with what he thought want of judgment upon an interesting occasion.  ’When I was ill, (said he,) I desired he would tell me sincerely in what he thought my life was faulty.  Sir, he brought me a sheet of paper, on which he had written down several texts of Scripture, recommending christian charity.  And when I questioned him what occasion I had given for such an animadversion, all that he could say amounted to this,—­that I sometimes contradicted people in conversation.  Now what harm does it do to any man to be contradicted?’ Boswell.  ’I suppose he meant the manner of doing it; roughly,—­and harshly.’  Johnson.  ‘And who is the worse for that?’ Boswell.  ’It hurts people of weak nerves.’  Johnson.  ‘I know no such weak-nerved people.’  Mr. Burke, to whom I related this conference, said, ’It is well, if when a man comes to die, he has nothing heavier upon his conscience than having been a little rough in conversation.’

Johnson, at the time when the paper was presented to him, though at first pleased with the attention of his friend, whom he thanked in an earnest manner, soon exclaimed, in a loud and angry tone, ’What is your drift, Sir?’ Sir Joshua Reynolds pleasantly observed, that it was a scene for a comedy, to see a penitent get into a violent passion and belabour his confessor.

He had dined that day at Mr. Hoole’s, and Miss Helen Maria Williams being expected in the evening, Mr. Hoole put into his hands her beautiful Ode on the Peace:  Johnson read it over, and when this elegant and accomplished young lady was presented to him, he took her by the hand in the most courteous manner, and repeated the finest stanza of her poem; this was the most delicate and pleasing compliment he could pay.  Her respectable friend, Dr. Kippis, from whom I had this anecdote, was standing by, and was not a little gratified.

Miss Williams told me, that the only other time she was fortunate enough to be in Dr. Johnson’s company, he asked her to sit down by him, which she did, and upon her inquiring how he was, he answered, ’I am very ill indeed, Madam.  I am very ill even when you are near me; what should I be were you at a distance?’

He had now a great desire to go to Oxford, as his first jaunt after his illness; we talked of it for some days, and I had promised to accompany him.  He was impatient and fretful to-night, because I did not at once agree to go with him on Thursday.  When I considered how ill he had been, and what allowance should be made for the influence of sickness upon his temper, I resolved to indulge him, though with some inconvenience to myself, as I wished to attend the musical meeting in honour of Handel, in Westminster-Abbey, on the following Saturday.