ow than formerly; so it is plain no more
live. The register of births proves nothing, for not one tenth of the
people of London are born there.' BOSWELL. 'I believe, Sir, a great many
of the children born in London die early.' JOHNSON. 'Why, yes, Sir.'
BOSWELL. 'But those who do live, are as stout and strong people as
any: Dr. Price says, they must be naturally stronger to get through.'
JOHNSON. 'That is system, Sir. A great traveller observes, that it is
said there are no weak or deformed people among the Indians; but he with
much sagacity assigns the reason of this, which is, that the hardship
of their life as hunters and fishers does not allow weak or diseased
children to grow up. Now had I been an Indian, I must have died early;
my eyes would not have served me to get food. I indeed now could fish,
give me English tackle; but had I been an Indian I must have starved,
or they would have knocked me on the head, when they saw I could do
nothing.' BOSWELL. 'Perhaps they would have taken care of you: we are
told they are fond of oratory, you would have talked to them.' JOHNSON.
Nay, Sir, I should not have lived long enough to be fit to talk; I
should have been dead before I was ten years old. Depend upon it, Sir, a
savage, when he is hungry, will not carry about with him a looby of
nine years old, who cannot help himself. They have no affection, Sir.'
BOSWELL. 'I believe natural affection, of which we hear so much, is very
small.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, natural affection is nothing: but affection from
principle and established duty is sometimes wonderfully strong.' LOWE.
'A hen, Sir, will feed her chickens in preference to herself.' JOHNSON.
'But we don't know that the hen is hungry; let the hen be fairly hungry,
and I'll warrant she'll peck the corn herself. A cock, I believe,
will feed hens instead of himself; but we don't know that the cock is
hungry.' BOSWELL. 'And that, Sir, is not from affection but gallantry.
But some of the Indians have affection.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, that they help
some of their children is plain; for some of them live, which they could
not do without being helped.'

I dined with him; the company were, Mrs. Williams, Mrs. Desmoulins,
and Mr. Lowe. He seemed not to be well, talked little, grew drowsy soon
after dinner, and retired, upon which I went away.

Having next day gone to Mr. Burke's seat in the country, from whence I
was recalled by an express, that a near relation of mine had killed his
antagonist