indisputably his. If it was his, I shall only say, he was impar sibi.'

We gave him as good a dinner as we could. Our Scotch muir-fowl, or
growse, were then abundant, and quite in season; and, so far as wisdom
and wit can be aided by administering agreeable sensations to the
palate, my wife took care that our great guest should not be
deficient.

Sir Adolphus Oughton, then our Deputy Commander in Chief, who was not
only an excellent officer, but one of the most universal scholars I
ever knew, had learned the Erse language, and expressed his belief in
the authenticity of Ossian's poetry. Dr Johnson took the opposite side
of that perplexed question; and I was afraid the dispute would have
run high between them. But Sir Adolphus, who had a very sweet temper,
changed the discourse, grew playful, laughed at Lord Monboddo's notion
of men having tails, and called him a Judge, a posteriori, which
amused Dr Johnson; and thus hostilities were prevented.

At supper we had Dr Cullen, his son the advocate, Dr Adam Fergusson,
and Mr Crosbie, advocate. Witchcraft was introduced. Mr Crosbie said,
he thought it the greatest blasphemy to suppose evil spirits
counteracting the Deity, and raising storms, for instance, to destroy
his creatures. JOHNSON. 'Why, sir, if moral evil be consistent with
the government of the Deity, why may not physical evil be also
consistent with it? It is not more strange that there should be evil
spirits, than evil embodied spirits. And as to storms, we know there
are such things; and it is no worse that evil spirits raise them, than
that they rise.' CROSBIE. 'But it is not credible, that witches should
have effected what they are said in stories to have done.' JOHNSON.
'Sir, I am not defending their credibility. I am only saying, that