s Boswell, "gave him a significant look, but made no
answer; and I told Lochbuie that he was not Johnston, but Johnson, and
that he was an Englishman."

I regret to say that the great war saddle, which was in Lochbuie's
possession in 1773, and which Boswell did not see because the young
laird had taken it to Falkirk with a drove of black cattle, is no longer
in the island: somebody took it to America, and forgot to bring it
back.

The present laird is greatly beloved by his tenantry. At the lecture I
gave at Lochbuie, he was unable, owing to illness, to take the chair.
His absence was a terrible grief to the people, and the piper of the
family, in a brief speech, alluded in a most touching way to the sorrow
felt by all present.[30]

INVERARAY CASTLE.

Three days after Johnson and his friend left Lochbuie, they were
entertained by the Duke of Argyll in Inveraray Castle. Boswell's
description of the incidents of this visit is one of his finest efforts.
He tells us that Johnson admired the "utter defiance of expense" shown
by the Duke in the building and appointments of the place. Records exist
which show that the masons were paid at the rate of 41/2d. a day,
_plus_ a weekly bonus of meal!

It is interesting to note that the Rev. John Macaulay (grandfather of
Lord Macaulay) was one of the ministers of Inveraray in 1773. Boswell
gives him a very high character, but this had no emollient effect on the
great historian, when he came to review _Croker's Edition of Boswell's
Johnson_.

Inveraray Castle is a superb object-lesson in Scotch history. All the
Campbells of note for centuries past are hanging on the walls, from the
old Duke who passed away last, to the squinting Marquis (_Gleed Argyll_
mentioned in the "Bonnie House o' Airlie"), who was beheaded on the
Castle Hill of Edinburgh in 1661. The Duke, who commanded at Sheriffmuir
("when we ran and they ran, and they ran and we ran," etc.) is standing
in his accoutrements of pride, painted by the son of Allan Ramsay:

"Argyll the State's whole thunder, born to wield
And shake alike the Senate and the Field."

Mediaeval armour, firelocks from Culloden, flags from a score of
battlefields, mutely suggest the glory and gore of the olden times. It
is impossible to walk through the rooms of such a place without feeling
intimately in touch with the events of the past.

The present hotel is the one in which Johnson and his biographer lodged.
Burns came sixteen y