sit:--

"I had before dinner repeated a ridiculous story told me by an old
man, who had been a passenger with me in the stage-coach to-day. Mrs.
Thrale, having taken occasion to allude to it in talking to me,
called it, 'The story told you by the old _woman_.' 'Now, Madam,'
said I, 'give me leave to catch you in the fact: it was not an old
_woman_, but an old _man_, whom I mentioned as having told me this.'
I presumed to take an opportunity, in the presence of Johnson, of
showing this lively lady how ready she was, unintentionally, to
deviate from exact authenticity of narration."

In the margin: "Mrs. Thrale knew there was no such thing as an Old
Man: when a man gets superannuated, they call him an Old Woman."

The remarks on the value of truth attributed to Johnson are just and
sound in the main, but when they are pointed against character, they
must be weighed in reference to the very high standard he habitually
insisted upon. He would not allow his servant to say he was not at
home when he was. "A servant's strict regard for truth," he
continued, "must be weakened by such a practice. A philosopher may
know that it is merely a form of denial; but few servants are such
nice distinguishers. If I accustom a servant to tell a lie for me,
have I not reason to apprehend that he will tell many lies for
himself?"

One of his townspeople, Mr. Wickens, of Lichfield, was walking with
him in a small meandering shrubbery formed so as to hide the
termination, and observed that it might be taken for an extensive
labyrinth, but that it would prove a deception, though it was,
indeed, not an unpardonable one. "Sir," exclaimed Johnson, "don't
tell me of deception; a lie, Sir, is a lie, whether it be a lie to
the eye or a lie to the ear." Whilst he was in one of these
paradoxical humours, there was no pleasing him; and he has been known
to insult persons of respectability for repeating current accounts of
events, sounding new and strange, which turned out to be literally
true; such as the red-hot shot at Gibraltar, or the effects of the
earthquake at Lisbon. Yet he could be lax when it suited him, as
speaking of epitaphs: "The writer of an epitaph should not be
considered as saying nothing but what is strictly true. Allowance
must be made for some degree of exaggerated praise. In lapidary
inscriptions a man is not upon oath." Is he upon oath in narrating an
anecdote? or could he do more than swear to the best of his
recollection a