Last night much care was taken of Dr. Johnson, who was still distressed by his cold.  He had hitherto most strangely slept without a night-cap.  Miss M’Leod made him a large flannel one, and he was prevailed with to drink a little brandy when he was going to bed.  He has great virtue in not drinking wine or any fermented liquor, because, as he acknowledged to us, he could not do it in moderation[601].  Lady M’Leod would hardly believe him, and said, ‘I am sure, Sir, you would not carry it too far.’  JOHNSON.  ’Nay, madam, it carried me.  I took the opportunity of a long illness to leave it off.  It was then prescribed to me not to drink wine; and, having broken off the habit, I have never returned to it[602].’

In the argument on Tuesday night, about natural goodness, Dr. Johnson denied that any child was better than another, but by difference of instruction; though, in consequence of greater attention being paid to instruction by one child than another, and of a variety of imperceptible causes, such as instruction being counteracted by servants, a notion was conceived, that of two children, equally well educated, one was naturally much worse than another.  He owned, this morning, that one might have a greater aptitude to learn than another, and that we inherit dispositions from our parents[603].  ’I inherited, (said he,) a vile melancholy from my father, which has made me mad all my life, at least not sober[604].’  Lady M’Leod wondered he should tell this.  ’Madam, (said I,) he knows that with that madness he is superior to other men.’

I have often been astonished with what exactness and perspicuity he will explain the process of any art.  He this morning explained to us all the operation of coining, and, at night, all the operation of brewing, so very clearly, that Mr. M’Queen said, when he heard the first, he thought he had been bred in the Mint; when he heard the second, that he had been bred a brewer.

I was elated by the thought of having been able to entice such a man to this remote part of the world.  A ludicrous, yet just image presented itself to my mind, which I expressed to the company.  I compared myself to a dog who has got hold of a large piece of meat, and runs away with it to a corner, where he may devour it in peace, without any fear of others taking it from him.  ’In London, Reynolds, Beauclerk, and all of them, are contending who shall enjoy Dr. Johnson’s conversation.  We are feasting upon it, undisturbed, at Dunvegan.’

It was still a storm of wind and rain.  Dr. Johnson however walked out with M’Leod, and saw Rorie More’s cascade in full perfection.  Colonel M’Leod, instead of being all life and gaiety, as I have seen him, was at present grave, and somewhat depressed by his anxious concern about M’Leod’s affairs, and by finding some gentlemen of the clan by no means disposed to act a generous or affectionate part to their Chief in his distress, but bargaining with him as with a stranger.  However, he was