weather at all seasons; and having no manse or plebe, and no fund
for communion elements, and no mortification for schools or any
pious purpose in either of the islands, and the air being
unwholesome, he was dissatisfied;" and so, to the great regret of
the parishioners whom he was leaving behind, he migrated to
Harris, where he discharged the clerical duties for nearly half a
century.

Aulay was the father of fourteen children, of whom one, Kenneth,
the minister of Ardnamurchan, still occupies a very humble niche
in the temple of literature. He wrote a History of St. Kilda
which happened to fall into the hands of Dr. Johnson, who spoke
of it more than once with favour. His reason for liking the book
is characteristic enough. Mr. Macaulay had recorded the belief
prevalent in St. Kilda that, as soon as the factor landed on the
island, all the inhabitants had an attack which from the account
appears to have partaken of the nature both of influenza and
bronchitis. This touched the superstitious vein in Johnson, who
praised him for his "magnanimity" in venturing to chronicle so
questionable a phenomenon; the more so because,--said the
Doctor,--"Macaulay set out with a prejudice against prejudice,
and wanted to be a smart modern thinker." To a reader of our day
the History of St. Kilda appears to be innocent of any trace of
such pretension; unless it be that the author speaks slightingly
of second-sight, a subject for which Johnson always had a strong
hankering. In 1773 Johnson paid a visit to Mr. Macaulay, who by
that time had removed to Calder, and began the interview by
congratulating him on having produced "a very pretty piece of
topography,"--a compliment which did not seem to the taste of the
author. The conversation turned upon rather delicate subjects,