(St.), one of the Hebrides, or western islands of Scotland. It lies in the Atlantic ocean, about 58° 30' N. Lat.; and is about three English miles in length from east to west, and its breadth from south to north not less than two. The ground of St Kilda, like much the greatest part of that over all the Highlands, is much better calculated for pasture than tillage.—Retained by idleness, a fault or vice much more pardonable here than in any other part of Great Britain, or discouraged by the form of government under which they live, the people of the island study to rear up sheep, and to kill wild-fowl, much more than to engage deeply in the more toilsome business of husbandry.—All the ground hitherto cultivated in this island lies round the village. The soil is thin, full of gravel, and of consequence very sharp. This, tho' naturally poor, is, however, rendered extremely fertile, by the singular industry of very judicious husbandmen: these prepare and manure every inch of their ground, so as to convert it into a kind of garden. All the instruments of agriculture they use, or indeed require, according to their system, are a spade, a mall, and a rake or harrow. After turning up the ground with a spade, they rake or harrow it very carefully, removing every small stone, every noxious root or growing weed that falls in their way, and pound down every stiff clod into dust. It is certain that a small number of acres well prepared in St Kilda, in this manner, will yield more profit to the husbandman than a much greater number when roughly handled in a hurry, as is the case in the other Western isles. The people of St Kilda sow and reap much earlier than any of their neighbours on the western coast of Scotland. The heat of the sun, reflected from the hills and rocks into a low valley facing the south-east, mull, in the summer-time, be quite intense; and however rainy the climate is, the corn mull, for these reasons, grow very fast, and ripen early.

The harvest is commonly over at this place before the beginning of September; and should it fall out otherwise, the whole crop would be almost destroyed by the equinoctial storms. All the islanders on the western coast have great reason to dread the fury of autumnal tempests: these, together with the excessive quantities of rain they have, generally, throughout seven or eight months of the year, are undoubtedly the most disadvantageous and unhappy circumstances of their lives.

Barley and oats are the only sorts of grain known at St Kilda; nor does it seem calculated for any other. Fifty bolls of the former, old highland measure, are every year brought from thence to Harris; and all the western islanders hardly produce anything so good of the kind. Potatoes have been introduced among that people only of late, and hitherto they have raised but small quantities of them. The only appearance of a garden in this whole land, so the natives call their principal island in their own language, is no more than a very inconsiderable piece of ground, which is inclosed, and planted with some cabbages. On the east side of the island, at the distance of a quarter of a mile from the bay, lies the village, where the whole body of this little people (the number amounting in 1764 to no more than 88) live together like the inhabitants of a town or city. It is certain that the inhabitants were much more numerous formerly than at present; and the island, if under proper regulations, might easily support 300 souls. Martin, who visited it about the end of the last century, found 180 persons there; but about the year 1730, one of the people coming to the island of Harris, was seized with the small-pox and died. Unluckily his clothes were carried away by one of his relations next year; and thus was the infection communicated, which made such havoc, that only four grown persons were left alive. Their houses are built in two rows, regular, and facing one another; with a tolerable causeway in the middle, which they call the street. These habitations are made and contrived in a very uncommon manner. Every one of them is flat in the roof, or nearly so, much like the houses of some oriental nations. That from any one of these the St Kildians have borrowed their manner of building, no man of sense will entertain a suspicion. They have been taught this lesson by their own reason, improved by experience. The place in which their lot has fallen, is peculiarly subject to violent squalls and furious hurricanes: were their houses raised higher than at present, they believe the first winter-storm would would bring them down about their ears. For this reason, the precaution they take in giving them roofs much flatter than ordinary, seems to be not altogether unnecessary. The walls of these habitations are made of a rough gritty kind of stones, huddled up together in haste, without either lime or mortar, from eight to nine feet high. In the heart of the walls are the beds, which are overlaid with flags, and large enough to contain three persons. In the side of every bed is an opening, by way of door, which is much too narrow and low to answer that purpose. All their dwelling-houses are divided into two apartments by partition-walls. In the division next the door, which is much the largest, they have their cattle stalled during the whole winter-season; the other serves for kitchen, hall, and bed-room.

It will be readily expected, that a race of men and women, bred in St Kilda, must be a very slovenly generation, and every way inelegant. It is indeed impossible to defend them from this imputation. Their method of preparing a sort of manure, to them indeed of vast use, proves that they are very indelicate. After having burnt a considerable quantity of dried turf, they spread the ashes with the nicest care over the floor of that apartment in which they eat and sleep. These ashes, so exactly laid out, they cover with a rich friable sort of earth; over this bed of earth they scatter a proportionable heap of that dust into which peats are apt to crumble away: this done, they water, tread, and beat the whole compost into a hard floor, on which they immediately make new fires very large, and never extinguished till they have a sufficient stock of new ashes on hand. The same operations are repeated with a never-failing punctuality, till they are just ready to sow their barley; by that time the walls of their houses are sunk down, or, to speak more properly, the floors risen, about four or five feet.

To have room enough for accumulating heaps of this compost one above another, the ancient St Kildians had ingenuity enough to contrive their beds within the linings of their walls; and it was for the same reason they took care to raise these walls to an height far from being common in the other western islands. The manure produced in this way must undoubtedly be good, though probably rather sharp than of long duration, as it is scattered in small quantities upon the surface of the ground. Be that as it will, those who practise this art are abundantly lavish in its praises. They call it a commodity ineffinably precious; and one may venture to affirm, that a genuine St Kildian would scruple to barter it away for all the diamonds in Brazil and Golconda.

It is certain that cleanliness must contribute greatly to health, and of course longevity; but in spite of that instance of indelicacy now given, and many more which might have been added, the people of this island are not more short-lived than other men. Their total want of those articles of luxury, which have so natural a tendency to destroy the constitution of the human body, and their moderate exercises, will, together with some other circumstances, keep the balance of life equal enough between them and those who are absolute strangers to slovenliness.

Besides the dwelling-houses already described, there are a prodigious number of little cells, dispersed over all the island: which consist entirely of stones, without any the smallest help of timber. These cells are from twelve to eighteen feet in length, and a little more than seven in height. Their breadth at the foundation is nearly equal to the height. Every stone hangs above that immediately below, not perpendicularly, but inclines forward, so as to be nearer the opposite side of the grotto, and thus by imperceptible degrees till the two highest courses are near enough to be covered by a single flag at the top. To hinder the rain from falling down between the interstices above, the upper part of the building is overlaid with turf, which looks like a fine greensward while new. The inhabitants secure their peats, eggs, and wild-fowl, within these small repositories: every St Kildian has his share of them, in proportion to the extent of land he possesses, or the rent he pays to the steward. From the construction of these cells, and the toil they must have cost before they could have been finished, it seems plain, that those who put them together, were, if not more ingenious than their neighbours in the adjacent islands, at least more industrious than their own successors.

The St Kilda method of catching wild-fowl is very entertaining. The men are divided into fowling-parties, each of which consists generally of four persons distinguished by their agility and skill. Each party must have at least one rope about thirty fathoms long; this rope is made out of a strong raw cow-hide, fitted for that very purpose, and cut circularly into three thongs, all of equal length; these thongs being closely twisted together, form a three-fold cord, able to sustain a great weight, and durable enough to last for about two generations: to prevent the injuries it would otherwise receive from the sharp edges of the rocks, against which they must frequently strike, the cord is lined with sheep-skins, dressed in much the same manner.

This rope is a piece of furniture indispensably necessary, and the most valuable implement a man of substance can be possessed of in St Kilda. In the testament of a father, it makes the very first article in favour of his eldest son: should it happen to fall to a daughter's share, in default of male heirs, it is reckoned equal in value to the two best cows in the island.

By the help of such ropes, the people of the greatest prowess and experience here traverse and examine rocks prodigiously high. Lashed together in couples, each having either end of the cord fastened about his waist, they go frequently through the most dreadful precipices: when one of the two descends, his colleague plants himself on a strong shelf, and takes care to have such sure footing there, that if his fellow-adventurer makes a false step, and tumbles over, he may be able to save him.

The following anecdote of the present steward of St Kilda's deputy, will give the reader a specimen of the dangers they undergo, and, at the same time, of the uncommon strength of the St Kildians. This man, observing his colleague lose his hold, and tumbling down from above, placed himself so firmly upon the shelf where he stood, that he sustained the weight of his friend, after falling the whole length of the rope. Undoubtedly these are stupendous adventures, and equal to any thing in the feats of chivalry. Mr Macaulay.