I must here glean some of his conversation at Ulinish, which I have omitted.  He repeated his remark, that a man in a ship was worse than a man in a jail[686].  ’The man in a jail, (said he,) has more room, better food, and commonly better company, and is in safety.’  ’Ay; but, (said Mr. M’Queen,) the man in the ship has the pleasing hope of getting to shore.’  JOHNSON.  ’Sir, I am not talking of a man’s getting to shore; but of a man while he is in a ship:  and then, I say, he is worse than a man while he is in a jail.  A man in a jail may have the "pleasing hope" of getting out.  A man confined for only a limited time, actually has it.’  M’Leod mentioned his schemes for carrying on fisheries with spirit, and that he would wish to understand the construction of boats.  I suggested that he might go to a dock-yard and work, as Peter the Great did.  JOHNSON.  ’Nay, Sir, he need not work.  Peter the Great had not the sense to see that the mere mechanical work may be done by any body, and that there is the same art in constructing a vessel, whether the boards are well or ill wrought.  Sir Christopher Wren might as well have served his time to a bricklayer, and first, indeed, to a brick-maker.’

There is a beautiful little island in the Loch of Dunvegan, called Isa.  M’Leod said, he would give it to Dr. Johnson, on condition of his residing on it three months in the year; nay one month.  Dr. Johnson was highly amused with the fancy.  I have seen him please himself with little things, even with mere ideas like the present.  He talked a great deal of this island;—­how he would build a house there,—­how he would fortify it,—­how he would have cannon,—­how he would plant,—­how he would sally out, and take the isle of Muck;—­and then he laughed with uncommon glee, and could hardly leave off.  I have seen him do so at a small matter that struck him, and was a sport to no one else[687].  Mr. Langton told me, that one night he did so while the company were all grave about him:—­only Garrick, in his significant smart manner, darting his eyes around, exclaimed, ‘Very jocose, to be sure!’ M’Leod encouraged the fancy of Doctor Johnson’s becoming owner of an island; told him, that it was the practice in this country to name every man by his lands; and begged leave to drink to him in that mode:  ‘Island Isa, your health!’ Ulinish, Talisker, Mr. M’Queen, and I, all joined in our different manners, while Dr. Johnson bowed to each, with much good humour.

We had good weather, and a fine sail this day.  The shore was varied with hills, and rocks, and corn-fields, and bushes, which are here dignified with the name of natural wood.  We landed near the house of Ferneley, a farm possessed by another gentleman of the name of M’Leod, who, expecting our arrival, was waiting on the shore, with a horse for Dr. Johnson.  The rest of us walked.  At dinner, I expressed to M’Leod the joy which I had in seeing him