It was a storm of wind and rain; so we could not set out. I wrote some
of this Journal, and talked awhile with Dr Johnson in his room, and
passed the day, I cannot well say how, but very pleasantly. I was here
amused to find Mr Cumberland's comedy of the Fashionable Lover, in
which he has very well drawn a Highland character, Colin M'Cleod, of
the same name with the family under whose roof we now were. Dr Johnson
was much pleased with the Laird of Macleod, who is indeed a most
promising youth, and with a noble spirit struggles with difficulties,
and endeavours to preserve his people. He has been left with an
incumbrance of forty thousand pounds debt, and annuities to the amount
of thirteen hundred pounds a year. Dr Johnson said, 'If he gets the
better of all this, he'll be a hero; and I hope he will. I have not
met with a young man who had more desire to learn, or who has learnt
more. I have seen nobody that I wish more to do a kindness to than
Macleod.' Such was the honourable elogium, on this young chieftain,
pronounced by an accurate observer, whose praise was never lightly
bestowed.
There is neither justice of peace, nor constable in Rasay. Sky has Mr
M'Cleod of Ulinish, who is the sheriff substitute, and no other
justice of peace. The want of the execution of justice is much felt
among the islanders. Macleod very sensibly observed, that taking away
the heritable jurisdictions had not been of such service in the
islands, as was imagined. They had not authority enough in lieu of
them. What could formerly have been settled at once, must now either
take much time and trouble, or be neglected. Dr Johnson said, 'A
country is in a bad state, which is governed only by laws; because a
thousand things occur for which laws cannot provide, and where
authority ought to interpose. Now destroying the authority of the
chiefs set the people loose. It did not pretend to bring any positive
good, but only to cure some evil; and I am not well enough acquainted
with the country to know what degree of evil the heritable
jurisdictions occasioned.' I maintained hardly any; because the chiefs
generally acted right, for their own sakes.
Dr Johnson was now wishing to move. There was not enough of
intellectual entertainment for him, after he had satisfyed his
curiosity, which he did, by asking questions, till he had exhausted
the island; and where there was so numerous a company, mostly young
people, there was such a flow of familiar talk, so much noise, and so
much singing and dancing, that little opportunity was left for his
energetick conversation. He seemed sensible of this; for when I told
him how happy they were at having him there, he said, 'Yet we have not
been able to entertain them much.' I was fretted, from irritability of
nerves, by M'Cruslick's too obstreperous mirth. I complained of it to
my friend, observing we should be better if he was gone. 'No, sir,'
said he. 'He puts something into our society, and takes nothing out of
it.' Dr Johnson, however, had several opportunities of instructing the
company; but I am sorry to say, that I did not pay sufficient
attention to what passed, as his discourse now turned chiefly on
mechanicks, agriculture and such subjects, rather than on science and
wit. Last night Lady Rasay shewed him the operation of wawking cloth,
that is, thickening it in the same manner as is done by a mill. Here
it is performed by women, who kneel upon the ground, and rub it with
both their hands, singing an Erse song all the time. He was asking
questions while they were performing this operation, and, amidst their
loud and wild howl, his voice was heard even in the room above.
They dance here every night. The queen of our ball was the eldest Miss
Macleod, of Rasay, an elegant well-bred woman, and celebrated for her
beauty over all those regions, by the name of Miss Flora Rasay.
[Footnote: She had been some time at Edinburgh, to which she again
went, and was married to my worthy neighbour, Colonel Mure Campbell,
now Earl of Loudoun; but she died soon afterwards, leaving one
daughter.] There seemed to be no jealousy, no discontent among them;
and the gaiety of the scene was such, that I for a moment doubted
whether unhappiness had any place in Rasay. But my delusion was soon
dispelled, by recollecting the following lines of my fellow-traveller:
Yet hope not life from grief or danger free,
Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee!