We have walk'd 15 Miles in a soaking rain to Oban opposite the Isle of Mull which is so near Staffa we had thought to pass to it--but the expense is 7 Guineas and those rather extorted.--Staffa you see is a fashionable place and therefore every one concerned with it either in this town or the Island are what you call up. 'Tis like paying sixpence for an apple at the playhouse--this irritated me and Brown was not best pleased--we have therefore resolved to set northward for fort William to-morrow morning. I fed upon a bit of white Bread to-day like a Sparrow--it was very fine--I cannot manage the cursed Oat Cake. Remember me to all and let me hear a good account of you at Inverness--I am sorry Georgy had not those lines. Good-bye.
My dear Bailey--The only day I have had a chance of seeing you when you were last in London I took every advantage of--some devil led you out of the way--Now I have written to Reynolds to tell me where you will be in Cumberland--so that I cannot miss you. And when I see you, the first thing I shall do will be to read that about Milton and Ceres, and Proserpine--for though I am not going after you to John o' Grot's, it will be but poetical to say so. And here, Bailey, I will say a few words written in a sane and sober mind, a very scarce thing with me, for they may, hereafter, save you a great deal of trouble about me, which you do not deserve, and for which I ought to be bastinadoed. I carry all matters to an extreme--so that when I have any little vexation, it grows in five minutes into a theme for Sophocles. Then, and in that temper, if I write to any friend, I have so little self-possession that I give him matter for grieving at the very time perhaps when I am laughing at a Pun. Your last letter made me blush for the pain I had given you--I know my own disposition so well that I am certain of writing many times hereafter in the same strain to you--now, you know how far to believe in them. You must allow for Imagination. I know I shall not be able to help it.