On Wednesday, April 10, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale’s, where were Mr. Murphy and some other company.  Before dinner, Dr. Johnson and I passed some time by ourselves.  I was sorry to find it was now resolved that the proposed journey to Italy should not take place this year.  He said, ’I am disappointed, to be sure; but it is not a great disappointment.’  I wondered to see him bear, with a philosophical calmness, what would have made most people peevish and fretful.  I perceived, however, that he had so warmly cherished the hope of enjoying classical scenes, that he could not easily part with the scheme; for he said:  ’I shall probably contrive to get to Italy some other way.  But I won’t mention it to Mr. and Mrs. Thrale, as it might vex them.’  I suggested, that going to Italy might have done Mr. and Mrs. Thrale good.  Johnson.  ’I rather believe not, Sir.  While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates.  You must wait till grief be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.’

I said, I disliked the custom which some people had of bringing their children into company, because it in a manner forced us to pay foolish compliments to please their parents.  Johnson.  ’You are right, Sir.  We may be excused for not caring much about other people’s children, for there are many who care very little about their own children.  It may be observed, that men, who from being engaged in business, or from their course of life in whatever way, seldom see their children, do not care much about them.  I myself should not have had much fondness for a child of my own.’  Mrs. Thrale.  ‘Nay, Sir, how can you talk so?’ Johnson.  ’At least, I never wished to have a child.’

He talked of Lord Lyttelton’s extreme anxiety as an authour; observing, that ’he was thirty years in preparing his History, and that he employed a man to point it for him; as if (laughing) another man could point his sense better than himself.’  Mr. Murphy said, he understood his history was kept back several years for fear of Smollet.  Johnson.  ’This seems strange to Murphy and me, who never felt that anxiety, but sent what we wrote to the press, and let it take its chance.’  Mrs. Thrale.  ’The time has been, Sir, when you felt it.’  Johnson.  ’Why, really, Madam, I do not recollect a time when that was the case.’

On Thursday, April 11, I dined with him at General Paoli’s, in whose house I now resided, and where I had ever afterwards the honour of being entertained with the kindest attention as his constant guest, while I was in London, till I had a house of my own there.  I mentioned my having that morning introduced to Mr. Garrick, Count Neni, a Flemish Nobleman of great rank and fortune, to whom Garrick talked of Abel Drugger as A small part; and related, with pleasant vanity, that a Frenchman who had seen him in one of his low characters, exclaimed, ’Comment! je ne