Books: The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson, LL.D.

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Armidale is situated on a pretty bay of the narrow sea, which flows
between the main land of Scotland and the Isle of Sky. In front there
is a grand prospect of the rude mountains of Moidart and Knoidart.
Behind are hills gently rising and covered with a finer verdure than I
expected to see in this climate, and the scene is enlivened by a
number of little clear brooks.

Sir Alexander Macdonald having been an Eton scholar, and being a
gentleman of talents, Dr Johnson had been very well pleased with him
in London. But my fellow traveller and I were now full of the old
Highland spirit, and were dissatisfied at hearing of racked rents and
emigration; and finding a chief not surrounded by his clan. Dr Johnson
said, 'Sir, the Highland chiefs should not be allowed to go farther
south than Aberdeen. A strong-minded man, like Sir James Macdonald,
may be improved by an English education; but in general, they will be
tamed into insignificance.'

We found here Mr Janes of Aberdeenshire, a naturalist. Janes said he
had been at Dr Johnson's in London, with Ferguson the astronomer.
JOHNSON. 'It is strange that, in such distant places, I should meet
with any one who knows me. I should have thought I might hide myself
in Sky.'

Friday, 3d September

This day proving wet, we should have passed our time very
uncomfortably, had we not found in the house two chests of books,
which we eagerly ransacked. After dinner, when I alone was left at
table with the few Highland gentlemen who were of the company, having
talked with very high respect of Sir James Macdonald, they were all so
much affected as to shed tears. One of them was Mr Donald Macdonald,
who had been lieutenant of grenadiers in the Highland regiment, raised
by Colonel Montgomery, now Earl of Eglintoune, in the war before last;
one of those regiments which the late Lord Chatham prided himself in
having brought from 'the mountains of the north': by doing which he
contributed to extinguish in the Highlands the remains of disaffection
to the present Royal Family. From this gentleman's conversation, I
first learnt how very popular his Colonel was among the Highlanders;
of which I had such continued proofs, during the whole course of my
tour, that on my return I could not help telling the noble Earl
himself, that I did not before know how great a man he was.

We were advised by some persons here to visit Rasay, in our way to
Dunvegan, the seat of the Laird of Macleod. Being informed that the
Rev. Mr Donald M'Queen was the most intelligent man in Sky, and having
been favoured with a letter of introduction to him, by the learned Sir
James Foulis, I sent it to him by an express, and requested he would
meet us at Rasay; and at the same time enclosed a letter to the Laird
of Macleod, informing him that we intended in a few days to have the
honour of waiting on him at Dunvegan.

Dr Johnson this day endeavoured to obtain some knowledge of the state
of the country; but complained that he could get no distinct
information about any thing, from those with whom he conversed.

Saturday, 4th September

My endeavours to rouse the English-bred chieftain, in whose house we
were, to the feudal and patriarchal feelings, proving ineffectual, Dr
Johnson this morning tried to bring him to our way of thinking.
JOHNSON. 'Were I in your place, sir, in seven years I would make this
an independant island. I would roast oxen whole, and hang out a flag
as a signal to the Macdonalds to come and get beef and whisky.' Sir
Alexander was still starting difficulties. JOHNSON. 'Nay, sir; if you
are born to object, I have done with you. Sir, I would have a magazine
of arms.' SIR ALEXANDER. 'They would rust.' JOHNSON. 'Let there be men
to keep them clean. Your ancestors did not use to let their arms
rust.'

We attempted in vain to communicate to him a portion of our
enthusiasm. He bore with so polite a good-nature our warm, and what
some might call Gothick, expostulations, on this subject, that I
should not forgive myself, were I to record all that Dr Johnson's
ardour led him to say. This day was little better than a blank.

Sunday, 5th September

I walked to the parish church of Slate, which is a very poor one.
There are no church bells in the island. I was told there were once
some; what has become of them, I could not learn. The minister not
being at home, there was no service. I went into the church and saw
the monument of Sir James Macdonald, which was elegantly executed at
Rome, and has the following inscription, written by his friend, George
Lord Lyttelton:

To the memory
Of SIR JAMES MACDONALD, BART.
Who in the flower of youth,
Had attained to so eminent a degree of knowledge
in Mathematics, Philosophy, Languages,
And in every other branch of useful and polite learning.
As few have acquired in a long life
Wholly devoted to study:
Yet to this erudition he joined
What can rarely be found with it.
Great talents for business,
Great propriety of behaviour,
Great politeness of manners!
His eloquence was sweet, correct, and flowing;
His memory vast and exact;
His judgement strong and acute;
All which endowments, united
With the most amiable temper
And every private virtue,
Procured him, not only in his own country,
But also from foreign nations,
The highest marks of esteem.
In the year of our Lord
1766,
The 25th of his life,
After a long and extremely painful illness,
Which he supported with admirable patience and fortitude,
He died at Rome,
Where, notwithstanding the difference of religion.
Such extraordinary honours were paid to his memory,
As had never graced that of any other British subject,
Since the death of Sir Philip Sydney.
The fame he left behind him is the best consolation
To his afflicted family,

And to his countrymen in this isle.
For whose benefit he had planned
Many useful improvements,
Which his fruitful genius suggested.
And his active spirit promoted.
Under the sober direction
Of a clear and enlightened understanding.
Reader, bewail our loss,
And that of all Britain.
In testimony of her love,
And as the best return she can make
To her departed son.
For the constant tenderness and affection
Which, even to his last moments,
He shewed for her.
His much afflicted mother.
The LADY MARGARET MACDONALD,
Daughter to the EARL of EGLINTOUNE,
Erected this Monument,
A.D. 1768.

[Footnote: This extraordinary young man, whom I had the pleasure of
knowing intimately, having been deeply regretted by his country, the
most minute particulars concerning him must be interesting to many. I
shall therefore insert his two last letters to his mother. Lady
Margaret Macdonald, which her ladyship has been pleased to communicate
to me.

Rome, July 9th, 1766.

My Dear Mother,

Yesterday's post brought me your answer to the first letter in which I
acquainted you of my illness. Your tenderness and concern upon that
account are the same I have always experienced, and to which I have
often owed my life. Indeed it never was in so great danger as it has
been lately; and though it would have been a very great comfort to me
to have had you near me, yet perhaps I ought to rejoice, on your
account, that you had not the pain of such a spectacle. I have been
now a week in Rome, and wish I could continue to give you the same
good accounts of my recovery as I did in my last: but I must own that
for three days past. I have been in a very weak and miserable state,
which however seems to give no uneasiness to my physician. My stomach
has been greatly out of order, without any visible cause; and the
palpitation does not decrease. I am told that my stomach will soon
recover its tone, and that the palpitation must cease in time. So I am
willing to believe; and with this hope support the little remains of
spirits which I can be supposed to have, on the forty-seventh day of
such an illness. Do not imagine I have relapsed--I only recover slower
than I expected. If my letter is shorter than usual, the cause of it
is a dose of physick, which has weakened me so much to-day, that I am
not able to write a long letter. I will make up for it next post, and
remain always

Your most sincerely affectionate son,
J. Macdonald.

He grew gradually worse; and on the night before his death he wrote as
follows from Frescati:

My Dear Mother,

Though I did not mean to deceive you in my last letter from Rome, yet
certainly you would have very little reason to conclude of the very
great and constant danger I have gone through ever since that time. My
life, which is still almost entirely desperate, did not at that time
appear to me so, otherwise I should have represented, in its true
colours, a fact which acquires very little horror by that means, and
comes with redoubled force by deception. There is no circumstance of
danger and pain of which I have not had the experience, for a
continued series of above a fortnight; during which time I have
settled my affairs, after my death, with as much distinctness as the
hurry and the nature of the thing could admit of. In case of the
worst, the Abbe Grant will be my executor in this part of the world,
and Mr Mackenzie in Scotland, where my object has been to make you and
my younger brother as independent of the eldest as possible.]

Dr Johnson said, the inscription should have been in Latin, as every
thing intended to be universal and permanent, should be.

This being a beautiful day, my spirits were cheered by the mere effect
of climate. I had felt a return of spleen during my stay at Armidale,
and had it not been that I had Dr Johnson to contemplate, I should
have sunk into dejection; but his firmness supported me. I looked at
him, as a man whose head is turning giddy at sea looks at a rock, or
any fixed object. I wondered at his tranquillity. He said, 'Sir, when
a man retires into an island, he is to turn his thoughts intirely to
another world. He has done with this.' BOSWELL. 'It appears to me,
sir, to be very difficult to unite a due attention to this world, and
that which is to come; for, if we engage eagerly in the affairs of
life, we are apt to be totally forgetful of a future state; and, on
the other hand, a steady contemplation of the awful concerns of
eternity renders all objects here so insignificant, as to make us
indifferent and negligent about them.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, Dr Cheyne has
laid down a rule to himself on this subject, which should be imprinted
on every mind: "To neglect nothing to secure my eternal peace, more
than if I had been certified I should die within the day: nor to mind
any thing that my secular obligations and duties demanded of me, less
than if I had been ensured to live fifty years more."

I must here observe, that though Dr Johnson appeared now to be
philosophically calm, yet his genius did not shine forth as in
companies, where I have listened to him with admiration. The vigour of
his mind was, however, sufficiently manifested, by his discovering no
symptoms of feeble relaxation in the dull, 'weary, flat and
unprofitable' state in which we now were placed.

I am inclined to think that it was on this day he composed the
following Ode upon the Isle of Sky, which a few days afterwards he
shewed me at Raysay:

ODA

Ponti profundis clausa recessibus,
Strepens procellis, rupibus obsita,
Quam grata defesso virentem
Skia sinum nebulosa pandis.

His cura, credo, sedibus exulat;
His blanda certe pax habitat locis:
Non ira, non moeror quietis
Insidias meditatur horis.

At non cavata rupe latescere,
Menti nec aegrae montibus aviis
Prodest vagari, nec frementes
E scopulo numerare fluctus

Humana virtus non sibi sufficit,
Datur nee aequum cuique animum sibi
Parare posse, ut Stoicorum
Secta crepet nimis alta fallax.

Exaestuantis pectoris impetum.
Rex summe, solus tu regis arbiter,
Mentisque, te tollente, surgunt,
Te recidunt moderante fluctus.

[Footnote: VARIOUS READINGS. Line 2. In the manuscript. Dr Johnson,
instead of rupibus obsita, had written imbribus uvida. and uvida
nubibus, but struck them both out. Lines 15 & 16. Instead of these two
lines, he had written, but afterwards struck out, the following:

Parare posse, utcunque jactet
Grandiloquus nimis alta Zeno.]

After supper, Dr Johnson told us, that Isaac Hawkins Browne drank
freely for thirty years, and that he wrote his poem, De Animi
Immortalitate, in some of the last of these years. I listened to this
with the eagerness of one, who, conscious of being himself fond of
wine, is glad to hear that a man of so much genius and good thinking
as Browne had the same propensity.

Monday, 6th September

We set out, accompanied by Mr Donald M'Leod (late of Canna) as our
guide. We rode for some time along the district of Slate, near the
shore. The houses in general are made of turf, covered with grass. The
country seemed well peopled. We came into the district of Strath, and
passed along a wild moorish tract of land till we arrived at the
shore. There we found good verdure, and some curious whin-rocks, or
collections of stones like the ruins of the foundations of old
buildings. We saw also three cairns of considerable size.

About a mile beyond Broadfoot, is Corrichatachin, a farm of Sir
Alexander Macdonald's, possessed by Mr M'Kinnon, [Footnote: That my
readers may have my narrative in the style of the country through
which I am travelling, it is proper to inform them, that the chief of
a clan is denominated by his SURNAME alone, as M'Leod, M'Kinnon.
M'Intosh. To prefix MR to it would be a degradation from THE M'Leod,
&c. My old friend, the Laird of M'Farlane, the great antiquary, took
it highly amiss, when General Wade called him Mr M'Farlane. Dr Johnson
said, he could not bring himself to use this mode of address: it
seemed to him to be too familiar, as it is the way in which, in all
other places, intimates or inferiors are addressed. When the chiefs
have TITLES, they are denominated by them, as SIR JAMES GRANT. SIR
ALLAN M'LEAN. The other Highland gentlemen, of landed property, are
denominated by their ESTATES, as RASAY, BOISDALE; and the wives of all
of them have the title of ladies. The TACKSMEN, or principal tenants,
are named by their farms, as KINGSBURGH, CORRICHATACHIN; and their
wives are called the MISTRESS of Kingsburgh, the MISTRESS of
Corrichatachin. Having given this explanation, I am at liberty to use
that mode of speech which generally prevails in the Highlands and the
Hebrides.] who received us with a hearty welcome, as did his wife, who
was what we call in Scotland a LADY-LIKE woman. Mr Pennant, in the
course of his tour to the Hebrides, passed two nights at this
gentleman's house. On its being mentioned, that a present had here
been made to him of a curious specimen of Highland antiquity, Dr
Johnson said, 'Sir, it was more than he deserved: the dog is a Whig.'

We here enjoyed the comfort of a table plentifully furnished, the
satisfaction of which was heightened by a numerous and cheerful
company; and we for the first time had a specimen of the joyous social
manners of the inhabitants of the Highlands. They talked in their own
ancient language, with fluent vivacity, and sung many Erse songs with
such spirit, that, though Dr Johnson was treated with the greatest
respect and attention, there were moments in which he seemed to be
forgotten. For myself, though but a lowlander, having picked up a few
words of the language, I presumed to mingle in their mirth, and joined
in the choruses with as much glee as any of the company. Dr Johnson
being fatigued with his journey, retired early to his chamber, where
he composed the following Ode, addressed to Mrs Thrale:

Oda

Permeo terras, ubi nuda rupes
Saxeas miscet nebulis ruinas,
Torva ubi rident steriles coloni
Rura labores.

Pervagor gentes, hominum ferorum
Vita ubi nullo decorata cultu
Squallet informis, tugurique fumis
Foeda latescit.

Inter erroris salebrosa longi,
Inter ignotae strepitus loquelae,
Quot modis mecum, quid agat, requiro,
Thralia dulcis

Seu viri curas pia nupta mulcet,
Seu fovet mater sobolem benigna.
Sive cum libris novitate pascet
Sedula mentem;

Sit memor nostri, fideique merces,
Stet fides constans, meritoque blandum
Thraliae discant resonare nomen
Littora Skiae.

Scriptum in Skia, Sept. 6, 1773.

Tuesday, 7th September

Dr Johnson was much pleased with his entertainment here. There were
many good books in the house: Hector Boethius in Latin; Cave's Lives
of the Fathers; Baker's Chronicle; Jeremy Collier's Church History; Dr
Johnson's small Dictionary; Craufurd's Officers of State, and several
more: a mezzotinto of Mrs Brooks the actress (by some strange chance
in Sky); and also a print of Macdonald of Clanranald, with a Latin
inscription about the cruelties after the battle of Culloden, which
will never be forgotten.

It was a very wet stormy day; we were therefore obliged to remain
here, it being impossible to cross the sea to Rasay.

I employed a part of the forenoon in writing this Journal. The rest of
it was somewhat dreary, from the gloominess of the weather, and the
uncertain state which we were in, as we could not tell but it might
clear up every hour. Nothing is more painful to the mind than a state
of suspence, especially when it depends upon the weather, concerning
which there can be so little calculation. As Dr Johnson said of our
weariness on the Monday at Aberdeen, 'Sensation is sensation.'
Corrichatachin, which was last night a hospitable house, was, in my
mind, changed to-day into a prison. After dinner I read some of Dr
Macpherson's Dissertations on the Ancient Caledonians. I was disgusted
by the unsatisfactory conjectures as to antiquity, before the days of
record. I was happy when tea came. Such, I take it, is the state of
those who live in the country. Meals are wished for from the cravings
of vacuity of mind, as well as from the desire of eating. I was hurt
to find even such a temporary feebleness, and that I was so far from
being that robust wise man who is sufficient for his own happiness. I
felt a kind of lethargy of indolence. I did not exert myself to get Dr
Johnson to talk, that I might not have the labour of writing down his
conversation. He inquired here, if there were any remains of the
second sight. Mr M'Pherson, Minister of Slate, said, he was RESOLVED
not to believe it, because it was founded on no principle. JOHNSON.
'There are many things then, which we are sure are true, that you will
not believe. What principle is there, why a loadstone attracts iron?
Why an egg produces a chicken by heat? Why a tree grows upwards, when
the natural tendency of all things is downwards? Sir, it depends upon
the degree of evidence that you have.' Young Mr M'Kinnon mentioned one
M'Kenzie, who is still alive, who had often fainted in his presence,
and when he recovered, mentioned visions which had been presented to
him. He told Mr M'Kinnon, that at such a place he should meet a
funeral, and that such and such people would be the bearers, naming
four; and three weeks afterwards he saw what M'Kenzie had predicted.
The naming the very spot in a country where a funeral comes a long
way, and the very people as bearers, when there are so many out of
whom a choice may be made, seems extraordinary. We should have sent
for M'Kenzie, had we not been informed that he could speak no English.
Besides, the facts were not related with sufficient accuracy.

Mrs M'Kinnon, who is a daughter of old Kingsburgh, told us that her
father was one day riding in Sky, and some women, who were at work in
a field on the side of the road, said to him, they had heard two
taiscks (that is, two voices of persons about to die), and what was
remarkable, one of them was an ENGLISH taisck, which they never heard
before. When he returned, he at that very place met two funerals, and
one of them was that of a woman who had come from the main land, and
could speak only English. This, she remarked, made a great impression
upon her father.

How all the people here were lodged, I know not. It was partly done by
separating man and wife, and putting a number of men in one room, and
of women in another.

Wednesday, 8th September

When I waked, the rain was much heavier than yesterday; but the wind
had abated. By breakfast, the day was better, and in a little while it
was calm and clear. I felt my spirits much elated. The propriety of
the expression, 'the sunshine of the breast', now struck me with
peculiar force; for the brilliant rays penetrated into my very soul.
We were all in better humour than before. Mrs M'Kinnon, with
unaffected hospitality and politeness, expressed her happiness in
having such company in her house, and appeared to understand and
relish Dr Johnson's conversation, as indeed all the company seemed to
do. When I knew she was old Kingsburgh's daughter, I did not wonder at
the good appearance which she made.

She talked as if her husband and family would emigrate, rather than be
oppressed by their landlord; and said, 'how agreeable would it be, if
these gentlemen should come in upon us when we are in America'.
Somebody observed that Sir Alexander Macdonald was always frightened
at sea. JOHNSON. 'HE is frightened at sea; and his tenants are
frightened when he comes to land.'

We resolved to set out directly after breakfast. We had about two
miles to ride to the sea-side, and there we expected to get one of the
boats belonging to the fleet of bounty herring-busses then on the
coast, or at least a good country fishing-boat. But while we were
preparing to set out, there arrived a man with the following card from
the Reverend Mr Donald M'Queen:

Mr M'Queen's compliments to Mr Boswell, and begs leave to acquaint him
that, fearing the want of a proper boat, as much as the rain of
yesterday, might have caused a stop, he is now at Skianwden with
Macgillichallum's [Footnote: The Highland expression for Laird of
Rasay.] carriage, to convey him and Dr Johnson to Rasay, where they
will meet with a most hearty welcome, and where Macleod, being on a
visit, now attends their motions.--Wednesday afternoon.

This card was most agreeable; it was a prologue to that hospitable and
truly polite reception which we found at Rasay. In a little while
arrived Mr Donald M'Queen himself; a decent minister, an elderly man
with his own black hair, courteous, and rather slow of speech, but
candid, sensible and well informed, nay learned. Along with him came,
as our pilot, a gentleman whom I had a great desire to see, Mr Malcolm
Macleod, one of the Rasay family, celebrated in the year 1745-6. He
was now sixty-two years of age, hale, and well proportioned, with a
manly countenance, tanned by the weather, yet having a ruddiness in
his cheeks, over a great part of which his rough beard extended. His
eye was quick and lively, yet his look was not fierce, but he appeared
at once firm and good-humoured. He wore a pair of brogues, tartan hose
which came up only near to his knees, and left them bare, a purple
camblet kilt, a black waistcoat, a short green cloth coat bound with
gold cord, a yellowish bushy wig, a large blue bonnet with a gold
thread button. I never saw a figure that gave a more perfect
representation of a Highland Gentleman. I wished much to have a
picture of him just as he was. I found him frank and POLITE, in the
true sense of the word.

The good family at Corrichatachin said, they hoped to see us on our
return. We rode down to the shore; but Malcolm walked with graceful
agility.

We got into Rasay's CARRIAGE, which was a good strong open boat made
in Norway. The wind had now risen pretty high, and was against us; but
we had four stout rowers, particularly a Macleod, a robust,
black-haired fellow, half naked, and bear-headed, something between a
wild Indian and an English tar. Dr Johnson sat high on the stern, like
a magnificent Triton. Malcolm sung an Erse song, the chorus of which
was 'Hatyin foam foam eri', with words of his own. The tune resembled
'Owr the muir amang the heather', the boatmen and Mr M'Queen chorused,
and all went well. At length Malcolm himself took an oar, and rowed
vigorously. We sailed along the coast of Scalpa, a rugged island,
about four miles in length. Dr Johnson proposed that he and I should
buy it, and found a good school, and an episcopal church (Malcolm
said, he would come to it), and have a printing-press, where he would
print all the Erse that could be found. Here I was strongly struck
with our long projected scheme of visiting the Hebrides being
realized. I called to him, 'We are contending with seas;' which I
think were the words of one of his letters to me. 'Not much,' said he;
and though the wind made the sea lash considerably upon us, he was not
discomposed. After we were out of the shelter of Scalpa, and in the
sound between it and Rasay, which extended about a league, the wind
made the sea very rough. I did not like it. JOHNSON. 'This now is the
Atlantick. If I should tell at a tea table in London, that I have
crossed the Atlantick in an open boat, how they'd shudder, and what a
fool they'd think me to expose myself to such danger.' He then
repeated Horace's ode,

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