,
with Miss Blair, Sir Alexander Gilmour, M.P. for Midlothian, for his
efforts at providing better legislation.

Rasay is one of the happiest descriptions in the tour. 'This,' said
Johnson, 'is truly the patriarchal life; this is what we came to find.'
They heard from home and had letters. At Kingsburgh they were welcomed
by the lady of the house, 'the celebrated Miss Flora Macdonald, a little
woman of genteel appearance; and uncommonly mild and well-bred.' 'I was
in a cordial humour, and promoted a cheerful glass. Honest Mr M'Queen
observed that I was in high glee, "my governor being gone to bed." ...
The room where we lay was a celebrated one. Dr Johnson's bed was the
very bed in which the grandson of the unfortunate King James the Second
lay, on one of the nights after the failure of his rash attempt in
1745-6. To see Dr Samuel Johnson lying in that bed, in the Isle of Sky,
in the house of Miss Flora Macdonald, struck me with such a group of
ideas as it is not easy for words to describe, as they passed through
the mind. The room was decorated with a great variety of maps and
prints. Among others, was Hogarth's print of Wilkes grinning, with a cap
of liberty on a pole by him.' Certainly Bozzy had never thought of
finding a remembrance of his 'classic friend' in such circumstances.

Dunvegan and the castle of the Macleods received them in hospitable
style. 'Boswell,' said Johnson, in allusion to Sir Alexander's stinted
ways, 'we came in at the wrong end of the island;' the memories of their
visit had not been forgotten when Scott was there on his Lighthouse Tour
in 1814. The Rambler 'had tasted lotus, and was in danger of forgetting
he was ever to depart.'

Landing at Strolimus, they proceeded to Corrichatachin, 'with but a
single star to light us on our way.' There took place the scene that,
though familiar, must be given in the writer's own words. A man who, for
artistic setting and colour, could write it deliberately down even to
his own disadvantage, and who could appeal to serious critics and
readers of discernment and taste against the objections which he saw
himself would be raised from the misinterpretation of others, is a
figure not to be met with every day in literature.

'Dr Johnson went to bed soon. When one bowl of punch was
finished, I rose, and was near the door, on my way upstairs to
bed; but Corrichatachin said, it was the first time Col had
been in his house, and he should have his