The Cruise of the Betsey: or, A Summer Ramble Among the Fossiliferous Deposits of the Hebrides. With Rambles of a Geologist or, Ten Thousand Miles Over the Fossiliferous Deposits of ScotlandMiller, Hugh
Philosophy
The Cruise of the Betsey: or, A Summer Ramble Among the Fossiliferous Deposits of the Hebrides. With Rambles of a Geologist or, Ten Thousand Miles Over the Fossiliferous Deposits of Scotland
Miller, Hugh
Geology -- Scotland
thoroughly and on system;--it seems bad policy; and I have not succeeded
in thinking any the better of it though assured by economists that there
are more than people enough in Scotland still. There are, I believe,
more than enough in our workhouses,--more than enough on our
pauper-rolls,--more than enough huddled up, disreputable, useless, and
unhappy, in the miasmatic alleys and typhoid courts of our large towns;
but I have yet to learn how arguments for local depopulation are to be
drawn from facts such as these. A brave and hardy people, favorably
placed for the development of all that is excellent in human nature,
form the glory and strength of a country;--a people sunk into an abyss
of degradation and misery, and in which it is the whole tendency of
external circumstances to sink them yet deeper, constitute its weakness
and its shame; and I cannot quite see on what principle the ominous
increase which is taking place among us in the worse class, is to form
our solace or apology for the wholesale expatriation of the better. It
did not seem as if the depopulation of Rum had tended much to any one's
advantage. The single sheep-farmer who had occupied the holdings of so
many had been unfortunate in his speculations, and had left the island:
the proprietor, his landlord, seemed to have been as little fortunate as
the tenant, for the island itself was in the market; and a report went
current at the time, that it was on the eve of being purchased by some
wealthy Englishman, who purposed converting it into a deer-forest. How
strange a cycle! Uninhabited originally save by wild animals, it became
at an early period a home of men, who, as the gray wall on the hill-side
testified, derived, in part at least, their sustenance from the chase.
They broke in from the waste the furrowed patches on the slopes of the
valleys,--they reared herds of cattle and flocks of sheep,--their number
increased to nearly five hundred souls,--they enjoyed the average
happiness of human creatures in the present imperfect state of
being,--they contributed their portion of hardy and vigorous manhood to
the armies of the country,--and a few of their more adventurous spirits,
impatient of the narrow bounds which confined them, and a course of
life little varied by incident, emigrated to America. Then came the
change of system so general in the Highlands; and the island lost all
its original inhabitants, on a wool and mutton speculation,--inhabitants,
the descendants of men who had chased the deer on its hills five hundred
years before, and who, though they recognized some wild island lord as
their superior, and did him service, had regarded the place as indisputably
their own. And now yet another change was on the eve of ensuing, and the
island was to return to its original state, as a home of wild animals,
where a few hunters from the mainland might enjoy the chase for a month or
two every twelvemonth, but which could form no permanent place of human
abode.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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