I rose, and wrote my _Journal_ till about nine; and then went to Dr.
Johnson, who sat up in bed and talked and laughed. I said, it was
curious to look back ten years, to the time when we first thought of
visiting the Hebrides[778]. How distant and improbable the scheme then
appeared! Yet here we were actually among them. 'Sir, (said he,) people
may come to do any thing almost, by talking of it. I really believe, I
could talk myself into building a house upon island Isa[779], though I
should probably never come back again to see it. I could easily persuade
Reynolds to do it; and there would be no great sin in persuading him to
do it. Sir, he would reason thus: "What will it cost me to be there once
in two or three summers? Why, perhaps, five hundred pounds; and what is
that, in comparison of having a fine retreat, to which a man can go, or
to which he can send a friend?" He would never find out that he may have
this within twenty miles of London. Then I would tell him, that he may
marry one of the Miss M'Leods, a lady of great family. Sir, it is
surprising how people will go to a distance for what they may have at
home. I knew a lady who came up from Lincolnshire to Knightsbridge with
one of her daughters, and gave five guineas a week for a lodging and a
warm bath; that is, mere warm water. _That_, you know, could not be had
in _Lincolnshire_! She said, it was made either too hot or too
cold there.'
After breakfast, Dr. Johnson and I, and Joseph, mounted horses, and Col
and the Captain walked with us about a short mile across the island. We
paid a visit to the Reverend Mr. Hector M'Lean. His parish consists of
the islands of Col and Tyr-yi. He was about seventy-seven years of age,
a decent ecclesiastick, dressed in a full suit of black clothes, and a
black wig. He appeared like a Dutch pastor, or one of the assembly of
divines at Westminster. Dr. Johnson observed to me afterwards, 'that he
was a fine old man, and was as well-dressed, and had as much dignity in
his appearance as the dean of a cathedral.' We were told, that he had a
valuable library, though but poor accommodation for it, being obliged to
keep his books in large chests. It was curious to see him and Dr.
Johnson together. Neither of them heard very distinctly; so each of them
talked in his own way, and at the same time. Mr. M'Lean said, he had a
confutation of Bayle, by Leibnitz. JOHNSON. 'A confutation of Bayle,
Sir! What part of Bayle do you mean? The greatest part of his writings
is not confutable: it is historical and critical.' Mr. M'Lean said, 'the
irreligious part;' and proceeded to talk of Leibnitz's controversy with
Clarke, calling Leibnitz a great man. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, Leibnitz
persisted in affirming that Newton called space _sensorium numinis_,
notwithstanding he was corrected, and desired to observe that Newton's
words were QUASI _sensorium numinis_[780]. No, Sir; Leibnitz was as
paltry a fellow as I know. Out of respect to Queen Caroline, who
patronised him, Clarke treated him too well.[781]' During the time
that Dr. Johnson was thus going on, the old minister was standing with
his back to the fire, cresting up erect, pulling down the front of his
periwig, and talking what a great man Leibnitz was. To give an idea of
the scene, would require a page with two columns; but it ought rather to
be represented by two good players. The old gentleman said, Clarke was
very wicked, for going so much into the Arian system[782]. 'I will not
say he was wicked, said Dr. Johnson; he might be mistaken.' M'LEAN. 'He
was wicked, to shut his eyes against the Scriptures; and worthy men in
England have since confuted him to all intents and purposes.' JOHNSON.
'I know not _who_ has confuted him to _all intents and purposes_.' Here
again there was a double talking, each continuing to maintain his own
argument, without hearing exactly what the other said.
I regretted that Dr. Johnson did not practice the art of accommodating
himself to different sorts of people. Had he been softer with this
venerable old man, we might have had more conversation; but his forcible
spirit, and impetuosity of manner, may be said to spare neither sex nor
age. I have seen even Mrs. Thrale stunned; but I have often maintained,
that it is better he should retain his own manner[783]. Pliability of
address I conceive to be inconsistent with that majestick power of mind
which he possesses, and which produces such noble effects. A lofty oak
will not bend like a supple willow.
He told me afterwards, he liked firmness in an old man, and was pleased
to see Mr. M'Lean so orthodox. 'At his age, it is too late for a man to
be asking himself questions as to his belief[784].' We rode to the
northern part of the island, where we saw the ruins of a church or
chapel[785]. We then proceeded to a place called Grissipol, or the
rough Pool.
At Grissipol we found a good farm house, belonging to the Laird of Col,
and possessed by Mr. M'Sweyn. On the beach here there is a singular
variety of curious stones. I picked up one very like a small cucumber.
By the by, Dr. Johnson told me, that Gay's line in _The Beggars Opera_,
'As men should serve a cucumber[786],' &c. has no waggish meaning, with
reference to men flinging away cucumbers as too _cooling_, which some
have thought; for it has been a common saying of physicians in England,
that a cucumber should be well sliced, and dressed with pepper and
vinegar, and then thrown out, as good for nothing. Mr. M'Sweyn's
predecessors had been in Sky from a very remote period, upon the estate
belonging to M'Leod; probably before M'Leod had it The name is certainly
Norwegian, from _Sueno_, King of Norway. The present Mr. M'Sweyn left
Sky upon the late M'Leod's raising his rents. He then got this farm
from Col.
He appeared to be near fourscore; but looked as fresh, and was as strong
as a man of fifty. His son Hugh looked older; and, as Dr. Johnson
observed, had more the manners of an old man than he. I had often heard
of such instances, but never saw one before. Mrs. M'Sweyn was a decent
old gentlewoman. She was dressed in tartan, and could speak nothing but
Erse. She said, she taught Sir James M'Donald Erse, and would teach me
soon. I could now sing a verse of the song _Hatyin foam'eri_[787], made
in honour of Allan, the famous Captain of Clanranald, who fell at
Sherrif-muir[788]; whose servant, who lay on the field watching his
master's dead body, being asked next day who that was, answered, 'He was
a man yesterday.'
We were entertained here with a primitive heartiness. Whiskey was served
round in a shell, according to the ancient Highland custom. Dr. Johnson
would not partake of it; but, being desirous to do honour to the modes
'of other times,' drank some water out of the shell.
In the forenoon Dr. Johnson said, 'it would require great resignation to
live in one of these islands.' BOSWELL. 'I don't know, Sir; I have felt
myself at times in a state of almost mere physical existence, satisfied
to eat, drink, and sleep, and walk about, and enjoy my own thoughts; and
I can figure a continuation of this.' JOHNSON. 'Ay, Sir; but if you were
shut up here, your own thoughts would torment you. You would think of
Edinburgh or London, and that you could not be there.'
We set out after dinner for _Breacacha_, the family seat of the Laird of
Col, accompanied by the young laird, who had now got a horse, and by the
younger Mr. M'Sweyn, whose wife had gone thither before us, to prepare
every thing for our reception, the laird and his family being absent at
Aberdeen. It is called _Breacacha_, or the Spotted Field, because in
summer it is enamelled with clover and daisies, as young Col told me. We
passed by a place where there is a very large stone, I may call it a
_rock_;--'a vast weight for Ajax[789].' The tradition is, that a giant
threw such another stone at his mistress, up to the top of a hill, at a
small distance; and that she in return, threw this mass down to
him[790]. It was all in sport.
'Malo me petit lasciva puella[791].'
As we advanced, we came to a large extent of plain ground. I had not
seen such a place for a long time. Col and I took a gallop upon it by
way of race. It was very refreshing to me, after having been so long
taking short steps in hilly countries. It was like stretching a man's
legs after being cramped in a short bed. We also passed close by a large
extent of sand-hills, near two miles square. Dr. Johnson said, 'he never
had the image before. It was horrible, if barrenness and danger could be
so.' I heard him, after we were in the house of _Breacacha_, repeating
to himself, as he walked about the room,
'And smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies[792].'
Probably he had been thinking of the whole of the simile in _Cato_, of
which that is the concluding line; the sandy desart had struck him so
strongly. The sand has of late been blown over a good deal of meadow,
and the people of the island say, that their fathers remembered much of
the space which is now covered with sand, to have been under
tillage[793]. Col's house is situated on a bay called _Breacacha_ Bay.
We found here a neat new-built gentleman's house, better than any we had
been in since we were at Lord Errol's. Dr. Johnson relished it much at
first, but soon remarked to me, that 'there was nothing becoming a Chief
about it: it was a mere tradesman's box[794].' He seemed quite at home,
and no longer found any difficulty in using the Highland address; for as
soon as we arrived, he said, with a spirited familiarity, 'Now, _Col_,
if you could get us a dish of tea.' Dr. Johnson and I had each an
excellent bed-chamber. We had a dispute which of us had the best
curtains. His were rather the best, being of linen; but I insisted that
my bed had the best posts, which was undeniable. 'Well, (said he,) if
you _have_ the best _posts_, we will have you tied to them and whipped.'
I mention this slight circumstance, only to shew how ready he is, even
in mere trifles, to get the better of his antagonist, by placing him in
a ludicrous view. I have known him sometimes use the same art, when hard
pressed in serious disputation. Goldsmith, I remember, to retaliate for
many a severe defeat which he has suffered from him, applied to him a
lively saying in one of Cibber's comedies, which puts this part of his
character in a strong light.--'There is no arguing with Johnson; for,
_if his pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of
it_[795].'