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.
Pages:
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379