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people are by, who do not know him as well as I da, and apt to think him narrow-minded.* I thereforé diverted the subject.

The English chapel, to which we went this morning was but mean. The altar was à bare fir table, with a coarse stool for kneeling on, covered with a piece of thick sail cloth doubled, by way of cushion. The congrë. gation was small. Mr. Tait, the clergyman, read prayers very well, though with much of the Scotch accent. He preached on “ Love your Enemies." It was remarkable that, when talking of the connections amongst men, he said, that some connected themselves with men of distinguished talents, and since they could not equal them, tried to deck themselves with their merit, by being their companions. The sentence was to this purpose. It had an odd coincidence with what might be said of my connecting myself with Dr. Johnson.

After church, we walked down to the Quay. We then went to Macbeth's castle. I had a romantick sa. tisfaction in seeing Dr. Johnson actually in it. It perfectly corresponds with Shakspeare's description, which Sir Joshua Reynolds has so happily illustrated, in one of his notes on our immortal poet:

6 This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air
“ Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
“ Unto our gentle sense,” &c.

Just as we came out of it, a raven perched on one of the chimney-tops, and croaked. Then I repeated

-The raven himself is hoarse,
" That croaks the fatal enterance of Duncan
“ Under my battlements.”

* It is remarkable that Dr. Johnson read this gentle remonstrance, and took no notice of it to me.

We dined at Mr. Keith's. Mrs. Keith was rather too attentive to Dr. Johnson, asking him many questions about his drinking only water. He repressed that observation, by saying to me, “ You may remember that Lady Errol took no notice of this."

Dr. Johnson has the happy art (for which I have heard my father praise the old Earl of Aberdeen) of instructing himself, by making every man he meets tell him something of what he knows best. He led Keith to talk to him of the Excise in Scotland, and in the course of conversation, mentioned that his friend Mr. Thrale, the great brewer, paid twenty thousand pounds a year to the revenue; and that he had four casks, each of which holds sixteen hundred barrels,-above a thousand hogsheads.

After this there was little conversation that deserves to be remembered. I shall therefore here again glean what I have omitted on former days. Dr. Gerrard, at Aberdeen, told us, that when he was in Wales, he was shewn a valley inhabited by Danes, who still retain their own language, and are quite a distinct people. Dr. Johnson thought it could not be true, or all the kingdom must have heard of it. He said to me, as we travelled, “ these people, sir, that Gerrard talks of, may have somewhat of a peregrinity in their dialect, which relation has augmented to a different language.” I asked him if peregrinity was an English word : he laughed, and said, “No.” I told him this was the second time I had heard him coin a word. When Foote broke his leg, I observed that it would make him fitter for taking off George Faulkner as Peter Paragraph, poor George having a wooden leg. Dr. Johnson at that time said, “George will rejoice at the depeditation of Foote; and when I challenged that word, laughed,

and owned he had made it ; and added that he had not made above three or four in his Dictionary.*

Having conducted Dr. Johnson to our inn, I begged permission to leave him for a little, that I might run about and pay some short visits to several good people of Inverness. He said to me, “ You have all the old-fashioned principles, good and bad.”-I acknowledge I have. That of attention to relations in the remotest degree, or to worthy persons in every state whom I have once known, I inherit from my father. It gave me much satisfaction to hear every body at Inverness speak of him with uncommon regard.—Mr. Keith and Mr. Grant, whom we had seen at Mr. M'Aulay's, supped with us at the inn. We had roasted kid, which Dr. Johnson had never tasted before. lished it much,

He re

Monday, 30th August.

This day we were to begin our equitation, as I said ; for I would needs make a word too. It is remarkable, that my noble, and to me most constant friend, the Earl of Pembroke, (who, if there is too much ease on my part, will be pleased to pardon what his benevolent, gay, social intercourse, and lively correspondence, have sensibly produced,) has since hit upon the very same word. The title of the first edition of his lordship's very useful book was, in simple terms, “A Method of break

• When upon the subject of this peregrinity, he told me some particulars concering the compilation of his Dictionary, and concerning his throwing off Lord Chesterfield's patronage, of which very erroneous accounts have been circulated. These particulars, with others which he afterwards gave me,--as also his celebrated letter to Lord Chesterfield, which he dictated to me,-) reserve for his "LIFE."

ing Horses, and teaching Soldiers to ride.” The title of the second edition is, “MILITARY EQUITATION."

We might have taken a chaise to Fort Augustus; but, had we not hired horses at Inverness, we should not have found them afterwards : so we resolved to begin here to ride. We had three horses, for Dr. Johnson, myself, and Joseph, and one which carried our portmanteaus, and two Highlanders who walked along with us, John Hay and Lauchlan Vass, whom Dr. Johnson has remembered with credit in his Journey, though he has omitted their names. Dr. Johnson rode very well.

About three miles beyond Inverness, we saw, just by the road, a very complete specimen of what is called a Druid's temple. There was a double circle, one of very large, the other of smaller stones.

. Dr. Johnson justly observed, that, “ to go and see one druidical temple is only to see that it is nothing, for there is neither art nor power in it; and seeing one is quite enough.”

It was a delightful day. Lochness, and the road upon the side of it, shaded with birch trees, and the hills above it, pleased us much. The scene was as sequestered and agreeably wild as could be desired, and for a time engrossed all our attention.

To see Dr. Johnson in any new situation is always an interesting object to me; and, as I saw him now for the first time on horseback, jaunting about at his ease in quest of pleasure and novelty, the very different occupations of his former laborious life, his admirable productions, his London, his Rambler,' &c. &c. immediately presented themselves to my mind, and the contrast made a strong impression on my imagination.

When we had advanced a good way by the side of Lochness, I perceived a little hut, with an old-looking woman at the door of it. I thought here might be a scene that would amuse Dr. Johnson; so I mentioned it to him, “Let's go in,” said he. So we dismount. ed, and we and our guides entered the hut. It was a wretched little hovel of earth only, I think, and for a window had only a small hole, which was stopped with a piece of turf, that was taken out occasionally to let in , light. In the middle of the room or space which we entered, was a fire of peat, the smoke going out at a hole in the roof. She had a pot upon it, with goat's flesh, boiling. There was at one end under the same roof, but divided by a kind of partition made of wattles, a pen or fold in which we saw a good many kids.

Dr. Johnson was curious to know where she slept. I asked one of the guides, who questioned her in Erse. She answered with a tone of emotion, saying (as he told us,) she was afraid we wanted to go to bed to her. This coquetry, or whatever it may be called, of so wretched a being, was truly ludicrous. Dr. Johnson and I afterwards were merry upon it. I said, it was he who alarmed the poor woman's virtue.—“No, sir, (said he) she'll say,

“there came a wicked young fellow, a wild dog, who I believe would have ravished me, had there not been with him a grave old gentleman, who repressed him; but when he gets out of the sight of his tutor, I'll warrant you

he'll spare no woman he meets, young or old.”—“No, sir, (I replied,) she'll say, 'There was a terrible ruffian who would have forced me, had it not been for a civil decent young man, who, I take it, was an angel sent from heaven to protect me.”

Dr. Johnson would not hurt her delicacy, by insisting on“ seeing her bed-chamber," like Archer in the Beaux Stratagem. But my curiosity was more ardent; I lighted a piece of paper, and went into the place where

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