The evening was now approaching, and we were yet at a considerable distance from the end of our expedition.  We could therefore stop no more to make remarks in the way, but set forward with some degree of eagerness.  The day soon failed us, and the moon presented a very solemn and pleasing scene.  The sky was clear, so that the eye commanded a wide circle:  the sea was neither still nor turbulent:  the wind neither silent nor loud.  We were never far from one coast or another, on which, if the weather had become violent, we could have found shelter, and therefore contemplated at ease the region through which we glided in the tranquillity of the night, and saw now a rock and now an island grow gradually conspicuous and gradually obscure.  I committed the fault which I have just been censuring, in neglecting, as we passed, to note the series of this placid navigation.

We were very near an Island, called Nun’s Island, perhaps from an ancient convent.  Here is said to have been dug the stone that was used in the buildings of Icolmkill.  Whether it is now inhabited we could not stay to inquire.

At last we came to Icolmkill, but found no convenience for landing.  Our boat could not be forced very near the dry ground, and our Highlanders carried us over the water.

We were now treading that illustrious Island, which was once the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge, and the blessings of religion.  To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible, if it were endeavoured, and would be foolish, if it were possible.  Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses; whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings.  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!

We came too late to visit monuments:  some care was necessary for ourselves.  Whatever was in the Island, Sir Allan could command, for the inhabitants were Macleans; but having little they could not give us much.  He went to the headman of the Island, whom Fame, but Fame delights in amplifying, represents as worth no less than fifty pounds.  He was perhaps proud enough of his guests, but ill prepared for our entertainment; however, he soon produced more provision than men not luxurious require.  Our lodging was next to be provided.  We found a barn well stocked with hay, and made our beds as soft as we could.

In the morning we rose and surveyed the place.  The churches of the two convents are both standing, though unroofed.  They were built of unhewn stone, but solid, and not inelegant.  I brought away rude measures of the buildings, such as I cannot much trust myself, inaccurately taken, and obscurely noted.  Mr. Pennant’s delineations, which are doubtless exact, have made my unskilful description less necessary.