Captain M'Lean joined us this morning at breakfast. There came on a
dreadful storm of wind and rain, which continued all day, and rather
increased at night. The wind was directly against our getting to Mull.
We were in a strange state of abstraction from the world: we could
neither hear from our friends, nor write to them. Col had brought
Daille On the Fathers, Lucas On Happiness, and More's Dialogues, from
the Reverend Mr M'Lean's, and Burnet's History of his own Times, from
Captain M'Lean's; and he had of his own some books of farming, and
Gregory's Geometry. Dr Johnson read a good deal of Burnet, and of
Gregory, and I observed he made some geometrical notes in the end of
his pocket-book. I read a little of Young's Six Weeks Tour through the
Southern Counties; and Ovid's Epistles, which I had bought at
Inverness, and which helped to solace many a weary hour.
We were to have gone with Dr Johnson this morning to see the mine; but
were prevented by the storm. While it was raging, he said, 'We may be
glad we are not damnati ad metalla.'