brooks here. JOHNSON. 'If Percy is like one of the brooks here, Birch
was like the river Thames. Birch excelled Percy in that, as much as
Percy excels Goldsmith.' I mentioned Lord Hailes as a man of anecdote.
He was not pleased with him, for publishing only such memorials and
letters as were unfavourable for the Stuart family[702]. 'If, (said he,)
a man fairly warns you, "I am to give all the ill; do you find the
good;" he may: but if the object which he professes be to give a view of
a reign, let him tell all the truth. I would tell truth of the two
Georges, or of that scoundrel, King William[703]. Granger's
_Biographical History_[704] is full of curious anecdote, but might have
been better done. The dog is a Whig. I do not like much to see a Whig in
any dress; but I hate to see a Whig in a parson's gown[705].'
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25.
It was resolved that we should set out, in order to return to Slate, to
be in readiness to take boat whenever there should be a fair wind. Dr.
Johnson remained in his chamber writing a letter, and it was long before
we could get him into motion. He did not come to breakfast, but had it
sent to him. When he had finished his letter, it was twelve o'clock, and
we should have set out at ten. When I went up to him, he said to me, 'Do
you remember a song which begins,
"Every island is a prison[706]
Strongly guarded by the sea;
Kings and princes, for that reason,
Prisoners are, as well as we?"'
I suppose he had been thinking of our confined situation[707]. He would
fain have gone in a boat from hence, instead of riding back to Slate. A
scheme for it was proposed. He said, 'We'll not be driven tamely from
it:'-but it proved impracticable.
We took leave of M'Leod and Talisker, from whom we parted with regret.
Talisker, having been bred to physick, had a tincture of scholarship in
his conversation, which pleased Dr. Johnson, and he had some very good
books; and being a colonel in the Dutch service, he and his lady, in
consequence of having lived abroad, had introduced the ease and
politeness of the continent into this rude region.
Young Col was now our leader. Mr. M'Queen was to accompany us half a day
more. We stopped at a little hut, where we saw an old woman grinding
with the _quern_, the ancient Highland instrument, which it is said was
used by the Romans, but which, being very slow in its operation, is
almost entirely gone into disuse.
The walls of the cottages in Sky, instead of being one compacted mass
of stones, are often formed by two exterior surfaces of stone, filled up
with earth in the middle, which makes them very warm. The roof is
generally bad. They are thatched, sometimes with straw, sometimes with
heath, sometimes with fern. The thatch is secured by ropes of straw, or
of heath; and, to fix the ropes, there is a stone tied to the end of
each. These stones hang round the bottom of the roof, and make it look
like a lady's hair in papers; but I should think that, when there is
wind, they would come down, and knock people on the head.
We dined at the inn at Sconser, where I had the pleasure to find a
letter from my wife. Here we parted from our learned companion, Mr.
Donald M'Queen. Dr. Johnson took leave of him very affectionately,
saying, 'Dear Sir, do not forget me!' We settled, that he should write
an account of the Isle of Sky, which Dr. Johnson promised to revise. He
said, Mr. M'Queen should tell all that he could; distinguishing what he
himself knew, what was traditional, and what conjectural.
We sent our horses round a point of land, that we might shun some very
bad road; and resolved to go forward by sea. It was seven o'clock when
we got into our boat. We had many showers, and it soon grew pretty dark.
Dr. Johnson sat silent and patient. Once he said, as he looked on the
black coast of Sky,-black, as being composed of rocks seen in the
dusk,--'This is very solemn.' Our boatmen were rude singers, and seemed
so like wild Indians, that a very little imagination was necessary to
give one an impression of being upon an American river. We landed at
_Strolimus_, from whence we got a guide to walk before us, for two
miles, to _Corrichatachin_. Not being able to procure a horse for our
baggage, I took one portmanteau before me, and Joseph another. We had
but a single star to light us on our way. It was about eleven when we
arrived. We were most hospitably received by the master and mistress,
who were just going to bed, but, with unaffected ready kindness, made a
good fire, and at twelve o'clock at night had supper on the table.
James Macdonald, of _Knockow_, Kingsburgh's brother, whom we had seen at
Kingsburgh, was there. He shewed me a bond granted by the late Sir James
Macdonald, to old Kingsburgh, the preamble of which does so much honour
to the feelings of that much-lamented gentleman, that I thought it worth
transcribing. It was as follows:--
'I, Sir James Macdonald, of Macdonald, Baronet, now, after arriving at
my perfect age, from the friendship I bear to Alexander Macdonald of
Kingsburgh, and in return for the long and faithful services done and
performed by him to my deceased father, and to myself during my
minority, when he was one of my Tutors and Curators; being resolved, now
that the said Alexander Macdonald is advanced in years, to contribute my
endeavours for making his old age placid and comfortable,'--
therefore he grants him an annuity of fifty pounds sterling.
Dr. Johnson went to bed soon. When one bowl of punch was finished, I
rose, and was near the door, in my way up stairs to bed; but
Corrichatachin said, it was the first time Col had been in his house,
and he should have his bowl;-and would not I join in drinking it? The
heartiness of my honest landlord, and the desire of doing social honour
to our very obliging conductor, induced me to sit down again. Col's bowl
was finished; and by that time we were well warmed. A third bowl was
soon made, and that too was finished. We were cordial, and merry to a
high degree; but of what passed I have no recollection, with any
accuracy. I remember calling _Corrichatachin_ by the familiar
appellation of _Corri_, which his friends do. A fourth bowl was made, by
which time Col, and young M'Kinnon, Corrichatachin's son, slipped away
to bed. I continued a little with Corri and Knockow; but at last I left
them. It was near five in the morning when I got to bed.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26
I awaked at noon, with a severe head-ach. I was much vexed that I should
have been guilty of such a riot, and afraid of a reproof from Dr.
Johnson. I thought it very inconsistent with that conduct which I ought
to maintain, while the companion of the Rambler. About one he came into
my room, and accosted me, 'What, drunk yet?' His tone of voice was not
that of severe upbraiding; so I was relieved a little. 'Sir, (said I,)
they kept me up.' He answered, 'No, you kept them up, you drunken
dog:'-This he said with good-humoured _English_ pleasantry. Soon
afterwards, Corrichatachin, Col, and other friends assembled round my
bed. Corri had a brandy-bottle and glass with him, and insisted I should
take a dram. 'Ay, said Dr. Johnson, fill him drunk again. Do it in the
morning, that we may laugh at him all day. It is a poor thing for a
fellow to get drunk at night, and sculk to bed, and let his friends have
no sport.' Finding him thus jocular, I became quite easy; and when I
offered to get up, he very good naturedly said, 'You need be in no such
hurry now[708].' I took my host's advice, and drank some brandy, which I
found an effectual cure for my head-ach. When I rose, I went into Dr.
Johnson's room, and taking up Mrs. M'Kinnon's Prayer-book, I opened it
at the twentieth Sunday after Trinity, in the epistle for which I read,
'And be not drunk with wine, wherein there is excess[709].' Some would
have taken this as a divine interposition.
Mrs. M'Kinnon told us at dinner, that old Kingsburgh, her father, was
examined at Mugstot, by General Campbell, as to the particulars of the
dress of the person who had come to his house in woman's clothes along
with Miss Flora M'Donald; as the General had received intelligence of
that disguise. The particulars were taken down in writing, that it might
be seen how far they agreed with the dress of the _Irish girl_ who went
with Miss Flora from the Long Island. Kingsburgh, she said, had but one
song, which he always sung when he was merry over a glass. She dictated
the words to me, which are foolish enough:--
'Green sleeves[710] and pudding pies,
Tell me where my mistress lies,
And I'll be with her before she rise,
Fiddle and aw' together.
May our affairs abroad succeed,
And may our king come home with speed,
And all pretenders shake for dread,
And let _his_ health go round.
To all our injured friends in need,
This side and beyond the Tweed!--
Let all pretenders shake for dread,
And let _his_ health go round.
Green sleeves,' &c.
While the examination was going on, the present Talisker, who was there
as one of M'Leod's militia, could not resist the pleasantry of asking
Kingsburgh, in allusion to his only song, 'Had she _green sleeves_?'
Kingsburgh gave him no answer. Lady Margaret M'Donald was very angry at
Talisker for joking on such a serious occasion, as Kingsburgh was really
in danger of his life. Mrs. M'Kinnon added that Lady Margaret was quite
adored in Sky. That when she travelled through the island, the people
ran in crowds before her, and took the stones off the road, lest her
horse should stumble and she be hurt[711]. Her husband, Sir Alexander,
is also remembered with great regard. We were told that every week a
hogshead of claret was drunk at his table.
This was another day of wind and rain; but good cheer and good society
helped to beguile the time. I felt myself comfortable enough in the
afternoon. I then thought that my last night's riot was no more than
such a social excess as may happen without much moral blame; and
recollected that some physicians maintained, that a fever produced by it
was, upon the whole, good for health: so different are our reflections
on the same subject, at different periods; and such the excuses with
which we palliate what we know to be wrong.
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 27.
Mr. Donald M'Leod, our original guide, who had parted from us at
Dunvegan, joined us again to-day. The weather was still so bad that we
could not travel. I found a closet here, with a good many books, beside
those that were lying about. Dr. Johnson told me, he found a library in
his room at Talisker; and observed, that it was one of the remarkable
things of Sky, that there were so many books in it.
Though we had here great abundance of provisions, it is remarkable that
Corrichatachin has literally no garden: not even a turnip, a carrot, or
a cabbage. After dinner, we talked of the crooked spade used in Sky,
already described, and they maintained that it was better than the usual
garden-spade, and that there was an art in tossing it, by which those
who were accustomed to it could work very easily with it. 'Nay, (said
Dr. Johnson,) it may be useful in land where there are many stones to
raise; but it certainly is not a good instrument for digging good land.
A man may toss it, to be sure; but he will toss a light spade much
better: its weight makes it an incumbrance. A man _may_ dig any land
with it; but he has no occasion for such a weight in digging good land.
You may take a field piece to shoot sparrows; but all the sparrows you
can bring home will not be worth the charge.' He was quite social and
easy amongst them; and, though he drank no fermented liquor, toasted
Highland beauties with great readiness. His conviviality engaged them so
much, that they seemed eager to shew their attention to him, and vied
with each other in crying out, with a strong Celtick pronunciation,
'Toctor Shonson, Toctor Shonson, your health!'
This evening one of our married ladies, a lively pretty little woman,
good-humouredly sat down upon Dr. Johnson's knee, and, being encouraged
by some of the company, put her hands round his neck, and kissed him.
'Do it again, (said he,) and let us see who will tire first.' He kept
her on his knee some time, while he and she drank tea. He was now like a
_buck_[712] indeed. All the company were much entertained to find him so
easy and pleasant. To me it was highly comick, to see the grave
philosopher,--the Rambler,-toying with a Highland beauty[713]!--But what
could he do? He must have been surly, and weak too, had he not behaved
as he did. He would have been laughed at, and not more respected, though
less loved.
He read to-night, to himself, as he sat in company, a great deal of my
Journal, and said to me, 'The more I read of this, I think the more
highly of you.' The gentlemen sat a long time at their punch, after he
and I had retired to our chambers. The manner in which they were
attended struck me as singular:--The bell being broken, a smart lad lay
on a table in the corner of the room, ready to spring up and bring the
kettle, whenever it was wanted. They continued drinking, and singing
Erse songs, till near five in the morning, when they all came into my
room, where some of them had beds. Unluckily for me, they found a bottle
of punch in a corner, which they drank; and Corrichatachin went for
another, which they also drank. They made many apologies for disturbing
me. I told them, that, having been kept awake by their mirth, I had once
thoughts of getting up, and joining them again. Honest Corrichatachin
said, 'To have had you done so, I would have given a cow.'
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 28.
The weather was worse than yesterday. I felt as if imprisoned. Dr.
Johnson said, it was irksome to be detained thus: yet he seemed to have
less uneasiness, or more patience, than I had. What made our situation
worse here was, that we had no rooms that we could command; for the good
people had no notion that a man could have any occasion but for a mere
sleeping-place; so, during the day, the bed chambers were common to all
the house. Servants eat in Dr. Johnson's; and mine was a kind of general
rendezvous of all under the roof, children and dogs not excepted. As the
gentlemen occupied the parlour, the ladies had no place to sit in,
during the day, but Dr. Johnson's room. I had always some quiet time for
writing in it, before he was up; and, by degrees, I accustomed the
ladies to let me sit in it after breakfast, at my _Journal_, without
minding me.
Dr. Johnson was this morning for going to see as many islands as we
could; not recollecting the uncertainty of the season, which might
detain us in one place for many weeks. He said to me, 'I have more the
spirit of adventure than you.' For my part, I was anxious to get to
Mull, from whence we might almost any day reach the main land.
Dr. Johnson mentioned, that the few ancient Irish gentlemen yet
remaining have the highest pride of family; that Mr. Sandford, a friend
of his, whose mother was Irish, told him, that O'Hara (who was true
Irish, both by father and mother) and he, and Mr. Ponsonby, son to the
Earl of Besborough, the greatest man of the three, but of an English
family, went to see one of those ancient Irish, and that he
distinguished them thus: 'O'Hara, you are welcome! Mr. Sandford, your
mother's son is welcome! Mr. Ponsonby, you may sit down.'
He talked both of threshing and thatching. He said, it was very
difficult to determine how to agree with a thresher. 'If you pay him by
the day's wages, he will thresh no more than he pleases; though to be
sure, the negligence of a thresher is more easily detected than that of
most labourers, because he must always make a sound while he works. If
you pay him by the piece, by the quantity of grain which he produces, he
will thresh only while the grain comes freely, and, though he leaves a
good deal in the ear, it is not worth while to thresh the straw over
again; nor can you fix him to do it sufficiently, because it is so
difficult to prove how much less a man threshes than he ought to do.
Here then is a dilemma: but, for my part, I would engage him by the day:
I would rather trust his idleness than his fraud.' He said, a roof
thatched with Lincolnshire reeds would last seventy years, as he was
informed when in that county; and that he told this in London to a great
thatcher, who said, he believed it might be true. Such are the pains
that Dr. Johnson takes to get the best information on every
subject[714].
He proceeded:--'It is difficult for a farmer in England to find
day-labourers, because the lowest manufacturers can always get more than
a day-labourer. It is of no consequence how high the wages of
manufacturers are; but it would be of very bad consequence to raise the
wages of those who procure the immediate necessaries of life, for that
would raise the price of provisions. Here then is a problem for
politicians. It is not reasonable that the most useful body of men
should be the worst paid; yet it does not appear how it can be ordered
otherwise. It were to be wished, that a mode for its being otherwise
were found out. In the mean time, it is better to give temporary
assistance by charitable contributions to poor labourers, at times when
provisions are high, than to raise their wages; because, if wages are
once raised, they will never get down again[715].'
Happily the weather cleared up between one and two o'clock, and we got
ready to depart; but our kind host and hostess would not let us go
without taking a _snatch_, as they called it; which was in truth a very
good dinner. While the punch went round, Dr. Johnson kept a close
whispering conference with Mrs. M'Kinnon, which, however, was loud
enough to let us hear that the subject of it was the particulars of
Prince Charles's escape. The company were entertained and pleased to
observe it. Upon that subject, there was something congenial between the
soul of Dr. Samuel Johnson, and that of an isle of Sky farmer's wife. It
is curious to see people, how far so ever removed from each other in the
general system of their lives, come close together on a particular point
which is common to each. We were merry with Corrichatachin, on Dr.
Johnson's whispering with his wife. She, perceiving this, humourously
cried, 'I am in love with him. What is it to live and not to love?' Upon
her saying something, which I did not hear, or cannot recollect, he
seized her hand eagerly, and kissed it.
As we were going, the Scottish phrase of '_honest man_!' which is an
expression of kindness and regard, was again and again applied by the
company to Dr. Johnson. I was also treated with much civility; and I
must take some merit from my assiduous attention to him, and from my
contriving that he shall be easy wherever he goes, that he shall not be
asked twice to eat or drink any thing (which always disgusts him), that
he shall be provided with water at his meals, and many such little
things, which, if not attended to, would fret him. I also may be allowed
to claim some merit in leading the conversation: I do not mean leading,
as in an orchestra, by playing the first fiddle; but leading as one does
in examining a witness--starting topics, and making him pursue them. He
appears to me like a great mill, into which a subject is thrown to be
ground. It requires, indeed, fertile minds to furnish materials for this
mill. I regret whenever I see it unemployed; but sometimes I feel myself
quite barren, and have nothing to throw in. I know not if this mill be a
good figure; though Pope makes his mind a mill for turning verses[716].
We set out about four. Young Corrichatachin went with us. We had a fine
evening, and arrived in good time at _Ostig_, the residence of Mr.
Martin M'Pherson, minister of Slate. It is a pretty good house, built by
his father, upon a farm near the church. We were received here with much
kindness by Mr. and Mrs. M'Pherson, and his sister, Miss M'Pherson, who
pleased Dr. Johnson much, by singing Erse songs, and playing on the
guittar. He afterwards sent her a present of his _Rasselas_. In his
bed-chamber was a press stored with books, Greek, Latin, French, and
English, most of which had belonged to the father of our host, the
learned Dr. M'Pherson; who, though his _Dissertations_ have been
mentioned in a former page[717] as unsatisfactory, was a man of
distinguished talents. Dr. Johnson looked at a Latin paraphrase of the
song of Moses, written by him, and published in the _Scots Magazine_ for
1747, and said, 'It does him honour; he has a good deal of Latin, and
good Latin.' Dr. M'Pherson published also in the same magazine, June
1739, an original Latin ode, which he wrote from the isle of Barra,
where he was minister for some years. It is very poetical, and exhibits
a striking proof how much all things depend upon comparison: for Barra,
it seems, appeared to him so much worse than Sky, his _natale
solum_[718], that he languished for its 'blessed mountains,' and thought
himself buried alive amongst barbarians where he was. My readers will
probably not be displeased to have a specimen of this ode:--
'Hei mihi! quantos patior dolores,
Dum procul specto juga ter beata;
Dum ferae Barrae steriles arenas
Solus oberro.
'Ingemo, indignor, crucior, quod inter
Barbaros Thulen lateam colentes;
Torpeo languens, morior sepultus,
Carcere coeco.'
After wishing for wings to fly over to his dear country, which was in
his view, from what he calls _Thule_, as being the most western isle of
Scotland, except St. Kilda; after describing the pleasures of society,
and the miseries of solitude, he at last, with becoming propriety, has
recourse to the only sure relief of thinking men,--_Sursum
corda_[719]--the hope of a better world, disposes his mind to
resignation:--
'Interim fiat, tua, rex, voluntas:
Erigor sursum quoties subit spes
Certa migrandi Solymam supernam,
Numinis aulam.'
He concludes in a noble strain of orthodox piety:--
'Vita tum demum vocitanda vita est.
Tum licet gratos socios habere,
Seraphim et sanctos TRIADEM verendam
Concelebrantes.'
