Thursday, 7th October

Captain M’Lean joined us this morning at breakfast. There came on a dreadful storm of wind and rain, which continued all day, and rather increased at night. The wind was directly against our getting to Mull. We were in a strange state of abstraction from the world: we could neither hear from our friends, nor write to them. Col had brought Daille On the Fathers, Lucas On Happiness, and More’s Dialogues, from the Reverend Mr M’Lean’s, and Burnet’s History of his own Times, from Captain M’Lean’s; and he had of his own some books of farming, and Gregory’s Geometry. Dr Johnson read a good deal of Burnet, and of Gregory, and I observed he made some geometrical notes in the end of his pocket-book. I read a little of Young’s Six Weeks Tour through the Southern Counties; and Ovid’s Epistles, which I had bought at Inverness, and which helped to solace many a weary hour.

We were to have gone with Dr Johnson this morning to see the mine; but were prevented by the storm. While it was raging, he said, ‘We may be glad we are not damnati ad metalla.’