He thought it foolish in Warburton to write so to the printer; and added, 'Sir, the worst way of being intimate, is by scribbling.' He called Warburton's Doctrine of Grace a poor performance, and so he said was Wesley's Answer. 'Warburton,' he observed, 'had laid himself very open. In particular, he was weak enough to say, that, in some disorders of the imagination, people had spoken with tongues, had spoken languages which they never knew before; a thing as absurd as to say, that, in some disorders of the imagination, people had been known to fly.'
I talked of the difference of genius, to try if I could engage Gerard in a disquisition with Dr Johnson; but I did not succeed. I mentioned, as a curious fact, that Locke had written verses. JOHNSON. 'I know of none, sir, but a kind of exercise prefixed to Dr Sydenham's Works, in which he has some conceits about the dropsy, in which water and burning are united; and how Dr Sydenham removed fire by drawing off water, contrary to the usual practice, which is to extinguish fire by bringing water upon it. I am not sure that there is a word of all this; but it is such kind of talk.' [Footnote: All this, as Dr Johnson suspected at the time, was the immediate invention of his own lively imagination; for there is not one word of it in Mr Locke's complimentary performance. My readers will, I have no doubt, like to be satisfied, by comparing them: and, at any rate, it may entertain them to read verses composed by our great metaphysician, when a Bachelor in Physick.
AUCTORI, IN TRACTATUM EJUS DE FEBRIBUS.
Febriles aestus, victumque ardoribus orbem Flevit, non tantis par Medicina malis. Et post mille artes, medicae tentamina curae, Ardet adhuc Febris; nec velit arte regi. Praeda sumus flammis; solum hoc speramus ab igne, Ut restet paucus, quem capit urna, cinis. Dum quaerit medicus febris caussamque, modumque, Flammarum et tenebras, et sine luce faces; Quas tractat patitur flammas, et febre calescens, Corruit ipse suis victima rapta focis. Qui tardos potuit morbos, artusque trementes, Sistere, febrili se videt igne rapi. Sic faber exesos fulsit tibicine muros; Dum trahit antiquas lenta ruina domos. Sed si flamma vorax miseras incenderit aedes, Unica flagrantes tunc sepelire salus. Fit fuga, tectonicas nemo tunc invocat artes; Cum perit artificis non minus usta domus. Se tandem Sydenham febrisque Scholaeque furori]
We spoke of Fingal. Dr Johnson said calmly, 'If the poems were really translated, they were certainly first written down. Let Mr Macpherson deposite the manuscript in one of the colleges at Aberdeen, where there are people who can judge; and, if the professors certify the authenticity, then there will be an end of the controversy. If he does not take this obvious and easy method, he gives the best reason to doubt; considering too, how much is against it a priori.'
We sauntered after dinner in Sir Alexander's garden, and saw his little grotto, which is hung with pieces of poetry written in a fair hand. It was
[Footnote: Opponens, morbi quaerit, et artis opem. Non temere incusat tectae putedinis ignes; Nec fictus, febres qui fovet, humor erit, Non bilem ille movet, nulla hic pituita; Salutis Quae spes, si fallax ardeat intus aqua Nec doctas magno rixas ostentat hiatu, Quis ipsis major febribus ardor inest. Innocuas placide corpus jubet urere flammas, Et justo rapidos temperat igne focos. Quid febrim exstinguat; varius quid postulat usus, Solari aegrotos, qua potes arte, docet. Hactenus ipsa suum timuit Natura calorem, Dum saepe incerto, quo calet, igne perit: Dum reparat tacitos male provida sanguinis ignes, Praelusit busto, fit calor iste rogus. Jam secura suas foveant praecordia flammas, Quem Natura negat, dat Medicina modum. Nec solum faciles compescit sanguinis aestus, Dum dubia est inter spemque metumque salus; Sed fatale malum domuit, quodque astra malignum Credimus, iratam vel genuisse Stygem. Extorsit Lachesi cultros, Pestique venenum Abstulit, et tantos non sinit esse metus. Quis tandem arte nova domitam mitescere Pestem Credat, et antiquas ponere posse minas Post tot mille neces, cumulataque funera busto, Victa jacet, parvo vulnere, dira Lues. Aetheriae quanquam spargunt contagia flammae, Quicquid inest istis ignibus, ignis erit. Delapsae coelo flammae licet acrius urant, Has gelida exstingui non nisi morte putas Tu meliora paras victrix Medicina; tuusque, Pestis qua superat cuncta, triumphus eris. Vive liber, victis febrilibus ignibus; unus Te simul et mundum qui manet, ignis erit. J. LOCK, A. M. Ex. Aede Christi, Oxon.]
agreeable to observe the contentment and kindness of this quiet, benevolent man. Professor Macleod was brother to Macleod of Talisker, and brother-in-law to the Laird of Col. He gave me a letter to young Col. I was weary of this day, and began to think wishfully of being again in motion. I was uneasy to think myself too fastidious, whilst I fancied Dr Johnson quite satisfied.