BOSWELL. 'But is not the fear of death natural to man?' JOHNSON. 'So
much so, Sir, that the whole of life is but keeping away the thoughts of
it[285].' He then, in a low and earnest tone, talked of his meditating
upon the aweful hour of his own dissolution, and in what manner he
should conduct himself upon that occasion: 'I know not (said he,)
whether I should wish to have a friend by me, or have it all between GOD
and myself.'

Talking of our feeling for the distresses of others;--JOHNSON. 'Why,
Sir, there is much noise made about it, but it is greatly exaggerated.
No, Sir, we have a certain degree of feeling to prompt us to do good:
more than that, Providence does not intend. It would be misery to no
purpose[286].' BOSWELL. 'But suppose now, Sir, that one of your intimate
friends were apprehended for an offence for which he might be hanged.'
JOHNSON. 'I should do what I could to bail him, and give him any other
assistance; but if he were once fairly hanged, I should not suffer.'
BOSWELL. 'Would you eat your dinner that day, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir;
and eat it as if he were eating it with me. Why, there's Baretti, who is
to be tried for his life to-morrow, friends have risen up for him on
every side; yet if he should be hanged, none of them will eat a slice of
plumb-pudding the less. Sir, that sympathetic feeling goes a very little
way in depressing the mind[287].'

I told him that I had dined lately at Foote's, who shewed me a letter
which he had received from Tom Davies, telling him that he had not been
able to sleep from the concern which he felt on account of '_This sad
affair of Baretti_[288],' begging of him to try if he could suggest any
thing that might be of service; and, at the same time, recommending to
him an industrious young man who kept a pickle-shop. JOHNSON. 'Ay, Sir,
here you have a specimen of human sympathy; a friend hanged, and a