Far from me, and
from my friends, be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent
and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery,
or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not
gain force upon the plain of _Marathon_, or whose piety would not grow
warmer among the ruins of _Iona_[898]!'
Upon hearing that Sir Allan M'Lean was arrived, the inhabitants, who
still consider themselves as the people of M'Lean, to whom the island
formerly belonged, though the Duke of Argyle has at present possession
of it, ran eagerly to him.
We were accommodated this night in a large barn, the island, affording
no lodging that we should have liked so well. Some good hay was strewed
at one end of it, to form a bed for us, upon which we lay with our
clothes on; and we were furnished with blankets from the village[899].
Each of us had a portmanteau for a pillow. When I awaked in the morning,
and looked round me, I could not help smiling at the idea of the chief
of the M'Leans, the great English Moralist, and myself, lying thus
extended in such a situation.
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 20.
Early in the morning we surveyed the remains of antiquity at this place,
accompanied by an illiterate fellow, as _Cicerone_, who called himself a
descendant of a cousin of Saint Columba, the founder of the religious
establishment here.
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