entally in the
course of the argument. "So, sir, I should think from your argument,"
said Johnson, for once condescending to an irresistible pun. It is
recorded, too, that he once made a bull himself, observing that a horse
was so slow that when it went up hill, it stood still. If he now failed
to appreciate Burke's argument, he made one good remark. Another speaker
said that unhealthy countries were the most populous. "Countries which
are the most populous," replied Johnson, "have the most destructive
diseases. That is the true state of the proposition;" and indeed, the
remark applies to the case of emigration.

A discussion then took place as to whether it would be worth while for
Burke to take so much trouble with speeches which never decided a vote.
Burke replied that a speech, though it did not gain one vote, would have
an influence, and maintained that the House of Commons was not wholly
corrupt. "We are all more or less governed by interest," was Johnson's
comment. "But interest will not do everything. In a case which admits of
doubt, we try to think on the side which is for our interest, and
generally bring ourselves to act accordingly. But the subject must admit
of diversity of colouring; it must receive a colour on that side. In the
House of Commons there are members enough who will not vote what is
grossly absurd and unjust. No, sir, there must always be right enough,
or appearance of right, to keep wrong in countenance." After some
deviations, the conversation returned to this point. Johnson and Burke
agreed on a characteristic statement. Burke said that from his
experience he had learnt to think better of mankind. "From my
experience," replied Johnson, "I have found them worse on commercial
dealings, more disposed to cheat than I had any notion of; but more
disposed to do one another good than I had conceived." "Less just, and
more beneficent," as another speaker suggested. Johnson proceeded to say
that considering the pressure of want, it was wonderful that men would
do so much for each other. The greatest liar is said to speak more truth
than falsehood, and perhaps the worst man might do more good than not.
But when Boswell suggested that perhaps experience might increase our
estimate of human happiness, Johnson returned to his habitual pessimism.
"No, sir, the more we inquire, the more we shall find men less happy."
The talk soon wandered off into a disquisition upon the folly of
deliberately testing the