After a very good sleep, I rose more refreshed than I had been for some
nights. We were now at but a little distance from the shore, and saw the
sea from our windows, which made our voyage seem nearer. Mr. M'Pherson's
manners and address pleased us much. He appeared to be a man of such
intelligence and taste as to be sensible of the extraordinary powers of
his illustrious guest. He said to me, 'Dr. Johnson is an honour to
mankind; and, if the expression may be used, is an honour to religion.'
Col, who had gone yesterday to pay a visit at Camuscross, joined us this
morning at breakfast. Some other gentlemen also came to enjoy the
entertainment of Dr. Johnson's conversation. The day was windy and
rainy, so that we had just seized a happy interval for our journey last
night. We had good entertainment here, better accommodation than at
Corrichatachin, and time enough to ourselves. The hours slipped along
imperceptibly. We talked of Shenstone. Dr. Johnson said he was a good
layer-out of land[721], but would not allow him to approach excellence
as a poet. He said, he believed he had tried to read all his _Love
Pastorals_, but did not get through them. I repeated the stanza,
'She gazed as I slowly withdrew;
My path I could hardly discern;
So sweetly she bade me adieu,
I thought that she bade me return[722].'
He said, 'That seems to be pretty.' I observed that Shenstone, from his
short maxims in prose, appeared to have some power of thinking; but Dr.
Johnson would not allow him that merit[723]. He agreed, however, with
Shenstone, that it was wrong in the brother of one of his correspondents
to burn his letters[724]: 'for, (said he,) Shenstone was a man whose
correspondence was an honour.' He was this afternoon full of critical
severity, and dealt about his censures on all sides. He said, Hammond's
_Love Elegies_ were poor things[725]. He spoke contemptuously of our
lively and elegant, though too licentious, Lyrick bard, Hanbury
Williams, and said, 'he had no fame, but from boys who drank with
him[726].'
While he was in this mood, I was unfortunate enough, simply perhaps, but
I could not help thinking, undeservedly, to come within 'the whiff and
wind of his fell sword[727].' I asked him, if he had ever been
accustomed to wear a night-cap. He said 'No.' I asked, if it was best
not to wear one. JOHNSON. 'Sir, I had this custom by chance, and perhaps
no man shall ever know whether it is best to sleep with or without a
night-cap.' Soon afterwards he was laughing at some deficiency in the
Highlands, and said, 'One might as well go without shoes and stockings.'
Thinking to have a little hit at his own deficiency, I ventured to
add,------' or without a night-cap, Sir.' But I had better have been
silent; for he retorted directly. 'I do not see the connection there
(laughing). Nobody before was ever foolish enough to ask whether it was
best to wear a night-cap or not. This comes of being a little
wrong-headed.' He carried the company along with him: and yet the truth
is, that if he had always worn a night-cap, as is the common practice,
and found the Highlanders did not wear one, he would have wondered at
their barbarity; so that my hit was fair enough.