conceive to be inconsistent with that majestick power of mind
which he possesses, and which produces such noble effects. A lofty oak
will not bend like a supple willow.

He told me afterwards, he liked firmness in an old man, and was pleased
to see Mr. M'Lean so orthodox. 'At his age, it is too late for a man to
be asking himself questions as to his belief[784].' We rode to the
northern part of the island, where we saw the ruins of a church or
chapel[785]. We then proceeded to a place called Grissipol, or the
rough Pool.

At Grissipol we found a good farm house, belonging to the Laird of Col,
and possessed by Mr. M'Sweyn. On the beach here there is a singular
variety of curious stones. I picked up one very like a small cucumber.
By the by, Dr. Johnson told me, that Gay's line in _The Beggars Opera_,
'As men should serve a cucumber[786],' &c. has no waggish meaning, with
reference to men flinging away cucumbers as too _cooling_, which some
have thought; for it has been a common saying of physicians in England,
that a cucumber should be well sliced, and dressed with pepper and
vinegar, and then thrown out, as good for nothing. Mr. M'Sweyn's
predecessors had been in Sky from a very remote period, upon the estate
belonging to M'Leod; probably before M'Leod had it The name is certainly
Norwegian, from _Sueno_, King of Norway. The present Mr. M'Sweyn left
Sky upon the late M'Leod's raising his rents. He then got this farm
from Col.

He appeared to be near fourscore; but looked as fresh, and was as strong
as a man of fifty. His son Hugh looked older; and, as Dr. Johnson
observed, had more the manners of an old man than he. I had often heard
of such instances, but never saw one before. Mrs. M'Sweyn was a decent
old gentlewoman. She was dressed in tartan, and could speak nothing but
Erse. She said, she taught Sir James M'Donald Erse, and would teach me
soon. I could now sing a verse of the song _Hatyin foam'eri_[787], made
in honour of Allan, the famous Captain of Clanranald, who fell at
Sherrif-muir[788]; whose servant, who lay on the field watching his
master's dead body, being asked next day who that was, answered, 'He was
a man yesterday.'

We were entertained here with a primitive heartiness. Whiskey was served
round in a shell, according to the ancient Highland custom. Dr. Johnson
would not partake of it; but, being desirous to do honour to the modes
'of other times,' drank some water out of the shell.

In the foren