charged with some jointures. His tenants had lost, in that severe winter, above a third of their cattle, which constituted their substance; their spirits were soured by their losses, and the late augmentations of rent; and their ideas of America were inflamed by the strongest representations, and the example of their neighbouring clans. My friend and I were empowered to grant such deductions in the rents as might seem necessary and reasonable; but we found it terrible to decide between the justice to creditors, the necessities of an ancient family which we ourselves represented, and the claims and distresses of an impoverished tenantry. To God I owe, and I trust will ever pay, the most fervent thanks that this terrible task enabled us to lay the foundation of circumstances (though then unlooked for) that I hope will prove the means not only of the rescue, but of the aggrandisement of our family. I was young, and had the warmth of the liberal passions natural to that age; I called the people of the different districts of our estate together; I laid before them the situation of our family — its debts, its burthens, its distress; I acknowledged the hardships under which they laboured; I described and reminded them of the manner in which they and their ancestors had lived with mine; I combated their passion for America by a real account of the dangers and hardships they might encounter there; I besought them to love their young chieftain, and to renew with him the ancient manners; I promised to live among them; I threw myself upon them; I recalled to their remembrance an ancestor who had also found his estate in ruin, and whose memory was held in the highest veneration; I desired every district to point out some of their oldest and most respected men, to settle with me every claim; and I promised to do every thing for their relief which in reason I could. My worthy relation ably seconded me, and our labour was not in vain. We gave considerable abatements in the rents; few emigrated; and the clan conceived the most lively attachment to me, which they most effectually manifested, as will be seen in the course of these memoirs. When we were engaged in these affairs, my

grandfather died, and was buried at St. Andrew's. I returned to Hampshire, and easily prevailed with my excellent mother and sisters to repair, in performance of my promise, to my clan, to Dunvegan. In my first visit to Skye, Mr. Pennant arrived there; and he has kindly noticed in his Tour the exertions we then made.

“I remained at home with my family and clan till the end of 1774; but I confess that I consider this as the most gloomy period of my life. Educated in a liberal manner, fired with ambition, fond of society, I found myself in confinement in a rernote corner of the world; without any hope of extinguishing the debts of my family, or of ever emerging from poverty and obscurity. A long life of painful economy seemed my only method to perform the duty I owed to my ancestors and posterity; and the burthen was so heavy, that only partial relief could be hoped even from that melancholy sacrifice. I had also the torment of seeing my mother and sisters, who were fitted for better scenes, immured with me; and their affectionate patience only added to my sufferings.

"In 1774 (1) Dr. Samuel Johnson, with his companion, Mr. Boswell, visited our dreary regions: it was my good fortune to be enabled to practise the virtue of hospitality on this occasion. The learned traveller spent a fortnight at Dunvegan; and indeed amply repaid our cares to please him by the most instructive and entertaining conversation. I procured for him the company of the most learned clergymen and sagacious inhabitants of the islands; and every other assistance within our power to the inquiries he wished to make.

"The nature of those inquiries, and the extraordinary character of Dr. Johnson, may make some account of them from me agreeable.

"His principal design was to find proofs of the inauthenticity of Ossian's poems; and in his inquiries it, became very soon evident that he wished not to find them genuine. I was pre

(1) The reader will perhaps agree with the editor that this little error of date adds to the interest of these memoirs: it is an additional proof that they were not studied or corrected for the public eye. It must be remembered that Mr. Boswell's Tour was not published when this was written.-C.

sent in a part of his search; his decision is now well known; and I will very freely relate what I know of them. Dr. M'Queen, a very learned minister in Skye, attended him; and was the person whom he most questioned, and through whom he proposed his questions to others.

The first question he insisted on was whether any person had ever seen the Poems of Ossian in manuscript, as the translator had found them; how and where these manuscripts had been preserved ? and whether faith was given to them by the Highlanders? I must avow that, from the answers given to these questions, he had no right to believe the manuscript genuine. In this he exulted much; and formed an unjust conclusion, that because the translator had been guilty of an imposition, the whole poems were impositions. Dr. M'Queen brought him, in my opinion, very full proofs of his error. He produced several gentlemen who had heard repeated in Erse long passages of these poems (1), which they averred did coincide with the translation; and he even procured a person who recited some lines himself. Had Dr. Johnson's time permitted, many proofs of the same nature would have been adduced; but he did not wish for them My opinion of this controversy is that the poems certainly did exist in detached pieces and fragments; that few of them had been committed to paper before the time of the translator; that he collected most of them from persons who could recite them, or parts of them; that he arranged and connected the parts, and perhaps made imitative additions for the sake of connection; that those additions cannot (2) be large or numerous; and that the foundation and genuine remains of the poems are sufficiently authentic for every purpose of taste or criticism. It might be wished, for the sake of squeamish critics, that the translator

(1) We readily forgive Macleod his desire to save as much as possible from the wreck of Qssian; and subsequent publications have certainly adduced some passages of Macpherson's version which have been found in the original Erse; but we can find in Boswell (who probably quotes all that Johnson knew) but one such passage, and that passage was accompanied by two others; one of which was something like, and the other nothing like Macpherson's version.-C.

(2) Why not? All the evidence goes to show that they formed the bulk, though, perhaps, not the spirit of the work.-C.

had given them to the world as he found them; though as a reader, I own myself delighted with Fingal and Temora, in their present appearance.

"The most sceptical writers on other subjects never applied the laws of evidence more strictly than Dr. Johnson did in his inquiries about Ossian: he was not so precise in other matters. The ridiculous notion of the second sight, or of supernatural visions, was not disrelished by him. He listened to all the fables of that nature which abound in the Highlands; and, though no one fact was so well vouched as to command its particular belief, he held that the thing was not impossible; and that the number of facts alleged formed a favourable presumption.

"No human being is perfect in any thing: the mind which is filled with just devotion is apt to sink into superstition; and, on the other hand, the genius which detects holy imposition frequently slides into presumptuous infidelity."

Thus abruptly ends a paper which every reader will wish had been longer.-C.

No. V.

ACCOUNT OF THE ESCAPE OF THE YOUNG PRETENDER, DRAWN UP BY MR. BOSWELL.

[See antè, p. 208.]

PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD, after the battle of Culloden, was conveyed to what is called the Long Island, where he lay for some time concealed. But intelligence having been obtained where he was, and a number of troops having come in quest of him, it became absolutely necessary for him to quit that country without delay. Miss Flora Macdonald, then a young lady, animated by what she thought the sacred principle of loyalty,

offered, with the magnanimity of a heroine, to accompany him in an open boat to Sky, though the coast they were to quit was guarded by ships. He dressed himself in women's clothes, and passed as her supposed maid, by the name of Betty Bourke, an Irish girl. They got off undiscovered, though several shots were fired to bring them to, and landed at Mugstot, the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald. Sir Alexander was then at Fort Augustus, with the Duke of Cumberland; but his lady was at home. Prince Charles took his post upon a hill near the house. Flora Macdonald waited on Lady Margaret (1), and acquainted her of the enterprise in which she was engaged. Her ladyship, whose active benevolence was ever seconded by superior talents, showed a perfect presence of mind and readiness of invention, and at once settled that Prince Charles should be conducted to old Rasay, who was himself concealed with some select friends. The plan was instantly communicated to Kingsburgh, who was despatched to the hill to inform the wanderer, and carry him refreshments. When Kingsburgh approached, he started up, and advanced, holding a large knotted stick, and in appearance ready to knock him down, till he said, "I am Macdonald of Kingsburgh, come to serve your Highness." The wanderer answered, "It is well," and was satisfied with the plan.

Flora Macdonald dined with the Lady Margaret, at whose table there sat an officer of the army, stationed here with a party of soldiers to watch for Prince Charles in case of his flying to the Isle of Sky. She afterwards often laughed in good humour with this gentleman on her having so well deceived him.

(1) Though her husband took arms for the house of Hanover, she was suspected of being an ardent Jacobite; and, on that supposition, Flora Macdonald guided the Pretender to Mugshot.-C.-On the subject of Lady Margaret Macdonald, it is impossible to omit an anecdote which does much honour to Frederick, Prince of Wales. By some chance Lady Margaret had been presented to the princess, who, when she learnt what share she had taken in the Chevalier's escape, hastened to excuse herself to the prince, and explain to him that she was not aware that Lady Margaret was the person who had harboured the fugitive. The prince's answer was noble: "And would you not have done the same, madam, had he come to you, as to her, in distress and danger? I hope-I am sure you would!"WALTER SCOTT.