(From the 1775 edition with the corrections noted in the 1785 errata.)
INCH KEITH
I had desired to visit the Hebrides, or Western Islands of
Scotland, so long, that I scarcely remember how the wish was
originally excited; and was in the Autumn of the year 1773 induced
to undertake the journey, by finding in Mr. Boswell a companion,
whose acuteness would help my inquiry, and whose gaiety of
conversation and civility of manners are sufficient to counteract
the inconveniences of travel, in countries less hospitable than we
have passed.
On the eighteenth of August we left Edinburgh, a city too well
known to admit description, and directed our course northward,
along the eastern coast of Scotland, accompanied the first day by
another gentleman, who could stay with us only long enough to shew
us how much we lost at separation.
As we crossed the Frith of Forth, our curiosity was attracted by
Inch Keith, a small island, which neither of my companions had ever
visited, though, lying within their view, it had all their lives
solicited their notice. Here, by climbing with some difficulty
over shattered crags, we made the first experiment of unfrequented
coasts. Inch Keith is nothing more than a rock covered with a thin
layer of earth, not wholly bare of grass, and very fertile of
thistles. A small herd of cows grazes annually upon it in the
summer. It seems never to have afforded to man or beast a
permanent habitation.
We found only the ruins of a small fort, not so injured by time but
that it might be easily restored to its former state. It seems
never to have been intended as a place of strength, nor was built
to endure a siege, but merely to afford cover to a few soldiers,
who perhaps had the charge of a battery, or were stationed to give
signals of approaching danger. There is therefore no provision of
water within the walls, though the spring is so near, that it might
have been easily enclosed. One of the stones had this inscription:
'Maria Reg. 1564.' It has probably been neglected from the time
that the whole island had the same king.
We left this little island with our thoughts employed awhile on the
different appearance that it would have made, if it had been placed
at the same distance from London, with the same facility of
approach; with what emulation of price a few rocky acres would have
been purchased, and with what expensive industry they would have
been cultivated and adorned.
When we landed, we found our chaise ready, and passed through
Kinghorn, Kirkaldy, and Cowpar, places not unlike the small or
straggling market-towns in those parts of England where commerce
and manufactures have not yet produced opulence.
Though we were yet in the most populous part of Scotland, and at so
small a distance from the capital, we met few passengers.
