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. 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,
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
accomodation 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
quasisensorium numinis. No, sir, Leibnitz was as paltry a fellow as I
know. Out of respect to Queen Caroline, who patronized him, Clarke
treated him too well.'
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. '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.
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.'
We rode to the northern part of the island, where we saw the ruins of
a church or chapel. 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
Beggar's Opera, 'As men should serve a cucumber,' &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, made in honour of Allan, the famous Captain of Clanranald,
who fell at Sherrif-muir; 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. Whisky 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'. 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. It was all in sport. Malo me petit lasciva puella.
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."'
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. 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.' 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 BUT-END OF IT.'