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were enough in England; but wild objects,-mountains,-water-falls,-peculiar manners; in short, things which he had not seen before. I have a notion that he at no time has had much taste for rural beauties. I have myself very little.
Dr. Johnson said, there was nothing more contemptible than a country gentleman living beyond his income, and every year growing poorer and poorer. He spoke strongly of the influence which a man has by being rich. "A man, (said he,) who keeps his money, has in reality more use from it, than he can have by spending it." I observed that this looked very like a paradox; but he explained it thus: "If it were certain that a man would keep his money locked up for ever, to be sure he would have no influence: but, as so many want money, and he has the power of giving it, and they know not but by gaining his favour they may obtain it, the rich man will always have the greatest influence. He again who lavishes his money, is laughed at as foolish, and in a great degree with justice, considering how much is spent from vanity. Even those who partake of a man's hospitality, have but a transient kindness for him. If he has not the command of money, people know he cannot help them, if he would; whereas, the rich man always can, if he will, and for the chance of that will have much weight."-Boswell. "But philosophers and satirists have all treated a miser as contemptible."-Johnson. “He is so philosophically; but not in the practice of life.”—Boswell. "Let me see now. -I do not know the instances of misers in England, so as to examine into their influence."-Johnson. have had few misers in England."-Boswell. "There was Lowther."—Johnson. "Why, sir, Lowther, by keeping his money, had the command of the county,
which the family has now lost, by spending it. I take it, he lent a great deal; and that is the way to have influence, and yet preserve one's wealth. A man may lend his money upon very good security, and yet have his debtor much under his power."-Boswell. "No doubt, sir. He can always distress him for the money; as no man borrows, who is able to pay on demand quite conveniently.'
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
* I do not know what was at this time the state of the parliamentary interest of the ancient family of Lowther; a family before the Conquest; but all the na. tion knows it to be very extensive at present. A due mixture of severity and kindness, œconomy and munificence, characterises its present Representative.
NOTE, by Lord Hailes.
"The cathedral of Elgin was burnt by the Lord of Badenoch, because the Bishop of Moray had pronounced an award not to his liking. The indemnification that the see obtained, was, that the Lord of Badenoch stood for three days bare-footed at the great gate of the cathedral. The story is in the chartulary of Elgin.
I am not sure whether the duke was at home. But, not having the honour of being much known to his grace, I could not have presumed to enter his castle, though to introduce even so celebrated a stranger. We were at any rate in a hurry
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 "because (said he) it makes the under story of a house very dark, which greatly overbalances 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,
That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
He repeated a good deal more of Macbeth. His recitation was grand and affecting, and, as sir Joshua Rey
to get forward to the wildness which we came to see. Perhaps, if this noble family had still preserved that sequestered magnificence which they maintained when catholicks, corresponding with the Grand Duke of Tuscany, we might have been induced to have procured proper letters of introduction, and devoted some time to the contemplation of venerable superstitious state.
nolds 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, 27th August.
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
"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 plea. sure 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 concern. ing 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.
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."