stige of religion. I perceived a large
company coming out from the house. We met them as we walked up. There
were Rasay himself; his brother Dr. Macleod; his nephew the Laird of
M'Kinnon; the Laird of Macleod; Colonel Macleod of Talisker, an officer
in the Dutch service, a very genteel man, and a faithful branch of the
family; Mr. Macleod of Muiravenside, best known by the name of Sandie
Macleod, who was long in exile on account of the part which he took in
1745; and several other persons. We were welcomed upon the green, and
conducted into the house, where we were introduced to Lady Rasay, who
was surrounded by a numerous family, consisting of three sons and ten
daughters. The Laird of Rasay is a sensible, polite, and most hospitable
gentleman. I was told that his island of Rasay, and that of Rona, (from
which the eldest son of the family has his title,) and a considerable
extent of land which he has in Sky, do not altogether yield him a very
large revenue[497]: and yet he lives in great splendour; and so far is
he from distressing his people, that, in the present rage for
emigration, not a man has left his estate. It was past six o'clock
when we arrived. Some excellent brandy was served round immediately,
according to the custom of the Highlands, where a dram is generally
taken every day. They call it a _scalch_[498]. On a side-board was
placed for us, who had come off the sea, a substantial dinner, and a
variety of wines. Then we had coffee and tea. I observed in the room
several elegantly bound books, and other marks of improved life. Soon
afterwards a fidler appeared, and a little ball began. Rasay himself
danced with as much spirit as any man, and Malcolm bounded like a roe.
Sandie Macleod, who has at times an excessive flow of spirits, and had
it now, was, in his days of absconding, known by the name of
_M'Cruslick_[499], which it seems was the designation of a kind of
wild man in the Highlands, something between Proteus and Don Quixote;
and so he was called here. He made much jovial noise. Dr. Johnson was so
delighted with this scene, that he said, 'I know not how we shall get
away.' It entertained me to observe him sitting by, while we danced,
sometimes in deep meditation,--sometimes smiling complacently,--sometimes
looking upon Hooke's _Roman History_,--and sometimes talking a
little, amidst the noise of the ball, to Mr. Donald M'Queen, who
anxiously gathered knowledge from him. He was pleased with M'Queen, and