' Lady M'Leod asked, if no man was naturally
good? JOHNSON. 'No, Madam, no more than a wolf.' BOSWELL. 'Nor no woman,
Sir?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir.[590]' Lady M'Leod started at this, saying, in a
low voice, 'This is worse than Swift.'
M'Leod of Ulinish had come in the afternoon. We were a jovial company at
supper. The Laird, surrounded by so many of his clan, was to me a
pleasing sight. They listened with wonder and pleasure, while Dr.
Johnson harangued. I am vexed that I cannot take down his full strain of
eloquence.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15.
The gentlemen of the clan went away early in the morning to the harbour
of Lochbradale, to take leave of some of their friends who were going to
America. It was a very wet day. We looked at Rorie More's horn, which is
a large cow's horn, with the mouth of it ornamented with silver
curiously carved. It holds rather more than a bottle and a half. Every
Laird of M'Leod, it is said, must, as a proof of his manhood, drink it
off full of claret, without laying it down. From Rorie More many of the
branches of the family are descended; in particular, the Talisker
branch; so that his name is much talked of. We also saw his bow, which
hardly any man now can bend, and his _Glaymore>_, which was wielded with
both hands, and is of a prodigious size. We saw here some old pieces of
iron armour, immensely heavy.
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