We dined at Elgin, and saw the noble ruins of the cathedral. Though it rained much, Dr. Johnson examined them with a most patient attention. He could not here feel any abhorrence at the Scottish reformers, for he had been told by Lord Hailes, that it was destroyed before the Reformation, by the Lord of Badenoch, who had a quarrel with the bishop. The bishop’s house, and those of the other clergy, which are still pretty entire, do not seem to have been proportioned to the magnificence of the cathedral, which has been of great extent, and had very fine carved work. The ground within the walls of the cathedral is employed as a burying-place. The family of Gordon have their vault here; but it has nothing grand.
We passed Gordon Castle this forenoon, which has a princely appearance. Fochabers, the neighbouring village, is a poor place, many of the houses being ruinous; but it is remarkable, they have in general orchards well stored with apple-trees. Elgin has what in England are called piazzas, that run in many places on each side of the street. It must have been a much better place formerly. Probably it had piazzas all along the town, as I have seen at Bologna. I approved much of such structures in a town, on account of their conveniency in wet weather. Dr. Johnson disapproved of them, ‘because (said he) it makes the under story of a house very dark, which greatly over-balances the conveniency, when it is considered how small a part of the year it rains; how few are usually in the street at such times; that many who are might as well be at home; and the little that people suffer, supposing them to be as much wet as they commonly are in walking a street.’
We fared but ill at our inn here; and Dr. Johnson said, this was the first time he had seen a dinner in Scotland that he could not eat.
In the afternoon, we drove over the very heath where Macbeth met the witches, according to tradition. Dr. Johnson again solemnly repeated —
‘How far is’t called to Fores? What are these,
So wither’d, and so wild in their attire?
That look not like the inhabitants o’ the earth,
And yet are on’t?’
He repeated a good deal more of Macbeth. His recitation was grand and affecting, and as Sir Joshua Reynolds has observed to me, had no more tone than it should have: it was the better for it. He then parodied the All-hail of the witches to Macbeth, addressing himself to me. I had purchased some land called Dalblair; and, as in Scotland it is customary to distinguish landed men by the name of their estates, I had thus two titles, Dalblair and Young Auchinleck. So my friend, in imitation of
‘All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!’
condescended to amuse himself with uttering
‘All hail, Dalblair! hail to thee, Laird of Auchinleck!’
We got to Fores at night, and found an admirable inn, in which Dr. Johnson was pleased to meet with a landlord who styled himself ‘Wine-Cooper, from LONDON.’
FRIDAY, AUGUST 27.
It was dark when we came to Fores last night; so we did not see what is called King Duncan’s monument. I shall now mark some gleanings of Dr. Johnson’s conversation. I spoke of Leonidas, and said there were some good passages in it. JOHNSON. ‘Why, you must seek for them.’ He said, Paul Whitehead’s Manners was a poor performance. Speaking of Derrick, he told me ‘he had a kindness for him, and had often said, that if his letters had been written by one of a more established name, they would have been thought very pretty letters.’
This morning I introduced the subject of the origin of evil. JOHNSON. ‘Moral evil is occasioned by free will, which implies choice between good and evil. With all the evil that there is, there is no man but would rather be a free agent, than a mere machine without the evil; and what is best for each individual, must be best for the whole. If a man would rather be the machine, I cannot argue with him. He is a different being from me.’ BOSWELL. ‘A man, as a machine, may have agreeable sensations; for instance, he may have pleasure in musick.’ JOHNSON. ‘No, Sir, he cannot have pleasure in musick; at least no power of producing musick; for he who can produce musick may let it alone: he who can play upon a fiddle may break it: such a man is not a machine.’ This reasoning satisfied me. It is certain, there cannot be a free agent, unless there is the power of being evil as well as good. We must take the inherent possibilities of things into consideration, in our reasonings or conjectures concerning the works of GOD.
We came to Nairn to breakfast. Though a county town and a royal burgh, it is a miserable place. Over the room where we sat, a girl was spinning wool with a great wheel, and singing an Erse song: ‘I’ll warrant you, (said Dr. Johnson.) one of the songs of Ossian.’ He then repeated these lines: —
‘Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound.
All at her work the village maiden sings;
Nor while she turns the giddy wheel around,
Revolves the sad vicissitude of things.’
I thought I had heard these lines before. JOHNSON. ‘I fancy not, Sir; for they are in a detached poem, the name of which I do not remember, written by one Giffard, a parson.’
I expected Mr. Kenneth M’Aulay, the minister of Calder, who published the history of St. Kilda, a book which Dr. Johnson liked, would have met us here, as I had written to him from Aberdeen. But I received a letter from him, telling me that he could not leave home, as he was to administer the sacrament the following Sunday, and earnestly requesting to see us at his manse. ‘We’ll go,’ said Dr. Johnson; which we accordingly did. Mrs. M’Aulay received us, and told us her husband was in the church distributing tokens. We arrived between twelve and one o’clock, and it was near three before he came to us.
Dr. Johnson thanked him for his book, and said ‘it was a very pretty piece of topography.’ M’Aulay did not seem much to mind the compliment. From his conversation, Dr. Johnson was persuaded that he had not written the book which goes under his name. I myself always suspected so; and I have been told it was written by the learned Dr. John M’Pherson of Sky, from the materials collected by M’Aulay. Dr. Johnson said privately to me, ‘There is a combination in it of which M’Aulay is not capable.’ However, he was exceedingly hospitable; and, as he obligingly promised us a route for our Tour through the Western Isles, we agreed to stay with him all night.
After dinner, we walked to the old castle of Calder (pronounced Cawder), the Thane of Cawdor’s seat. I was sorry that my friend, this ‘prosperous gentleman,’ was not there. The old tower must be of great antiquity. There is a draw-bridge — what has been a moat, — and an ancient court. There is a hawthorn-tree, which rises like a wooden pillar through the rooms of the castle; for, by a strange conceit, the walls have been built round it. The thickness of the walls, the small slaunting windows, and a great iron door at the entrance on the second story as you ascend the stairs, all indicate the rude times in which this castle was erected. There were here some large venerable trees.
I was afraid of a quarrel between Dr. Johnson and Mr. M’Aulay, who talked slightingly of the lower English clergy. The Doctor gave him a frowning look, and said, ‘This is a day of novelties; I have seen old trees in Scotland, and I have heard the English clergy treated with disrespect.’
I dreaded that a whole evening at Calder manse would be heavy; however, Mr. Grant, an intelligent and well-bred minister in the neighbourhood, was there, and assisted us by his conversation. Dr. Johnson, talking of hereditary occupations in the Highlands, said, ‘There is no harm in such a custom as this; but it is wrong to enforce it, and oblige a man to be a taylor or a smith, because his father has been one.’ This custom, however, is not peculiar to our Highlands; it is well known that in India a similar practice prevails.
Mr. M’Aulay began a rhapsody against creeds and confessions. Dr. Johnson shewed, that ‘what he called imposition, was only a voluntary declaration of agreement in certain articles of faith, which a church has a right to require, just as any other society can insist on certain rules being observed by its members. Nobody is compelled to be of the church, as nobody is compelled to enter into a society.’ This was a very clear and
just view of the subject: but, M’Aulay could not be driven out of his track. Dr. Johnson said, ‘Sir, you are a bigot to laxness.’
Mr. M’Aulay and I laid the map of Scotland before us; and he pointed out a route for us from Inverness, by Fort Augustus, to Glenelg, Sky, Mull, Icolmkill, Lorn, and Inverary, which I wrote down. As my father was to begin the northern circuit about the 18th of September, it was necessary for us either to make our tour with great expedition, so as to get to Auchinleck before he set out, or to protract it, so as not to be there till his return, which would be about the 10th of October. By M’Aulay’s calculation, we were not to land in Lorn till the 2Oth of September. I thought that the interruptions by bad days, or by occasional excursions, might make it ten days later; and I thought too, that we might perhaps go to Benbecula, and visit Clanranald, which would take a week of itself.
Dr. Johnson went up with Mr. Grant to the library, which consisted of a tolerable collection; but the Doctor thought it rather a lady’s library, with some Latin books in it by chance, than the library of a clergyman. It had only two of the Latin fathers, and one of the Greek fathers in Latin. I doubted whether Dr. Johnson would be present at a Presbyterian prayer. I told Mr. M’Aulay so, and said that the Doctor might sit in the library while we were at family worship. Mr. M’Aulay said, he would omit it, rather than give Dr. Johnson offence: but I would by no means agree that an excess of politeness, even to so great a man, should prevent what I esteem as one of the best pious regulations. I know nothing more beneficial, more comfortable, more agreeable, than that the little societies of each family should regularly assemble, and unite in praise and prayer to our heavenly Father, from whom we daily receive so much good, and may hope for more in a higher state of existence. I mentioned to Dr. Johnson the over-delicate scrupulosity of our host. He said, he had no objection to hear the prayer. This was a pleasing surprise to me; for he refused to go and hear Principal Robertson preach. ‘I will hear him, (said he,) if he will get up into a tree and preach; but I will not give a sanction, by my presence, to a Presbyterian assembly.’
Mr. Grant having prayed, Dr. Johnson said, his prayer was a very good one; but objected to his not having introduced the Lord’s Prayer. He told us, that an Italian of some note in London said once to him, ‘We have in our service a prayer called the Pater Noster, which is a very fine composition. I wonder who is the author of it.’ A singular instance of ignorance in a man of some literature and general inquiry!
SATURDAY, AUGUST 28.
Dr. Johnson had brought a Sallust with him in his pocket from Edinburgh. He gave it last night to Mr. M’Aulay’s son, a smart young lad about eleven years old. Dr. Johnson had given an account of the education at Oxford, in all its gradations. The advantage of being a servitor to a youth of little fortune struck Mrs. M’Aulay much. I observed it aloud. Dr. Johnson very handsomely and kindly said, that, if they would send their boy to him, when he was ready for the university, he would get him made a servitor, and perhaps would do more for him. He could not promise to do more; but would undertake for the servitorship.
I should have mentioned that Mr. White, a Welshman, who has been many years factor (i.e. steward) on the estate of Calder, drank tea with us last night, and upon getting a note from Mr. M’Aulay, asked us to his house. We had not time to accept of his invitation. He gave us a letter of introduction to Mr. Ferne, master of stores at Fort George. He shewed it to me. It recommended ‘two celebrated gentlemen; no less than Dr. Johnson, author of his Dictionary, — and Mr. Boswell, known at Edinburgh by the name of Paoli.’ He said he hoped I had no objection to what he had written; if I had, he would alter it. I thought it was a pity to check his effusions, and acquiesced; taking care, however, to seal the letter, that it might not appear that I had read it.
A conversation took place about saying grace at breakfast (as we do in Scotland) as well as at dinner and supper; in which Dr. Johnson said, ‘It is enough if we have stated seasons of prayer; no matter when. A man may as well pray when he mounts his horse, or a woman when she milks her cow, (which Mr. Grant told us is done in the Highlands,) as at meals; and custom is to be followed.’
We proceeded to Fort George. When we came into the square, I sent a soldier with the letter to Mr. Ferne. He came to us immediately, and along with him came Major Brewse of the Engineers, pronounced Bruce. He said he believed it was originally the same Norman name with Bruce. That he had dined at a house in London, where were three Bruces, one of the Irish line, one of the Scottish line, and himself of the English line. He said he was shewn it in the Herald’s office spelt fourteen different ways. I told him the different spellings of my name. Dr Johnson observed, that there had been great disputes about the spelling of Shakspear’s name; at last it was thought it would be settled by looking at the original copy of his will; but, upon examining it, he was found to have written it himself no less than three different ways.
Mr. Ferne and Major Brewse first carried us to wait on Sir Eyre Coote, whose regiment, the 37th, was lying here, and who then commanded the fort. He asked us to dine with him, which we agreed to do.
Before dinner we examined the fort. The Major explained the fortification to us, and Mr. Ferne gave us an account of the stores. Dr. Johnson talked of the proportions of charcoal and salt-petre in making gunpowder, of granulating it, and of giving it a gloss. He made a very good figure upon these topicks. He said to me afterwards, that ‘he had talked ostentatiously.’ We reposed ourselves a little in Mr. Ferne’s house. He had every thing in neat order as in England; and a tolerable collection of books. I looked into Pennant’s Tour in Scotland. He says little of this fort; but that ‘the barracks, &c. form several streets.’ This is aggrandising. Mr. Ferne observed, if he had said they form a square, with a row of buildings before it, he would have given a juster description. Dr. Johnson remarked, ‘how seldom descriptions correspond with realities; and the reason is, that people do not write them till some time after, and then their imagination has added circumstances.’
We talked of Sir Adolphus Oughton. The Major said, he knew a great deal for a military man. JOHNSON. ‘Sir, you will find few men, of any profession, who know more. Sir Adolphus is a very extraordinary man; a man of boundless curiosity and unwearied diligence.’
I know not how the Major contrived to introduce the contest between Warburton and Lowth. JOHNSON. ‘Warburton kept his temper all along, while Lowth was in a passion. Lowth published some of Warburton’s letters. Warburton drew him on to write some very abusive letters, and then asked his leave to publish them; which he knew Lowth could not refuse, after what he had done. So that Warburton contrived that he should publish, apparently with Lowth’s consent, what could not but shew Lowth in a disadvantageous light.’
At three the drum beat for dinner. I, for a little while, fancied myself a military man, and it pleased me. We went to Sir Eyre Coote’s, at the governour’s house, and found him a most gentleman-like man. His lady is a very agreeable woman, with an uncommonly mild and sweet tone of voice. There was a pretty large company: Mr. Ferne, Major Brewse, and several officers. Sir Eyre had come from the East-Indies by land, through the Desarts of Arabia. He told us, the Arabs could live five days without victuals, and subsist for three weeks on nothing else but the blood of their camels, who could lose so much of it as would suffice for that time, without being exhausted. He highly praised the virtue of the Arabs; their fidelity, if they undertook to conduct any person; and said, they would sacrifice their lives rather than let him be robbed. Dr. Johnson, who is always for maintaining the superiority of civilized over uncivilized men, said, ‘Why, Sir, I can see no superiour virtue in this. A serjeant and twelve men, who are my guard, will die, rather than that I shall be robbed.’ Colonel Pennington, of the 37th regiment, took up the argument with a good deal of spirit and ingenuity. PENNINGTON. ‘But the soldiers are compelled to this by fear of punishment. ‘JOHNSON. ‘Well, Sir, the Arabs are compelled by the fear of infamy.’ PENNINGTON. ‘The soldiers have the same fear of infam
y, and the fear of punishment besides; so have less virtue; because they act less voluntarily.’ Lady Coote observed very well, that it ought to be known if there was not, among the Arabs, some punishment for not being faithful on such occasions.
We talked of the stage. I observed, that we had not now such a company of actors as in the last age; Wilks, Booth, &c. &c. JOHNSON. ‘You think so, because there is one who excels all the rest so much: you compare them with Garrick, and see the deficiency. Garrick’s great distinction is his universality. He can represent all modes of life, but that of an easy fine bred gentleman.’ PENNINGTON. ‘He should give over playing young parts.’ JOHNSON. ‘He does not take them now; but he does not leave off those which he has been used to play, because he does them better than any one else can do them. If you had generations of actors, if they swarmed like bees, the young ones might drive off the old. Mrs. Cibber, I think, got more reputation than she deserved, as she had a great sameness; though her expression was undoubtedly very fine. Mrs. Clive was the best player I ever saw. Mrs. Prichard was a very good one; but she had something affected in her manner: I imagine she had some player of the former age in her eye, which occasioned it.’ Colonel Pennington said, Garrick sometimes failed in emphasis; as for instance, in Hamlet,
‘I will speak daggers to her; but use none.’
Complete Works of Samuel Johnson Page 833