Here, as 1 have already described, they rested that twentieth

Sunday after Trinity, when Boswell, recovering from his drinking bout, " by divine interposition, as some would have taken it," opened his Prayer Book at the Apostles' injunction against drunken- ness contained in the Epistle for that day. Here, too, the High- landers, drinking their toasts over the punch, won by Johnson's easy and social manners, " vied with each other in crying out, with a strong Celtic pronunciation, ' Toctor Shonson, Toctor Shonson, your health ! " The weather was so stormy that it was not till the afternoon of Tuesday, September 28, that they were able to

���SAILING PAST THE ISLE OF RUM.

��continue their journey. That night they arrived at Ostig, on the north-western side of the promontory of Slate, and found a hospi- table reception at the Manse. Here, too, they were kept prisoners by wind and rain. " I am," writes Johnson, " still confined in Skye. We were unskilful travellers, and imagined that the sea was an open road which we could pass at pleasure ; but we have now learned with some pain that we may still wait for a long time the caprices of the equinoctial winds, and sit reading or writing, as I now do, while the tempest is rolling the sea or roaring in the moun- tains." Nevertheless, so good was the entertainment which they received that, as Boswell tells us, " the hours slipped along imper ceptibly." They had books, and company, and conversation. In

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