We dined this day at the house of Mr. Frazer of
Streichton, who shewed us in his grounds some stones yet standing of a druidical circle,
and what I began to think more worthy of notice, some forest trees of full growth.At night we came to Bamff, where I remember nothing that particularly claimed
my attention. The ancient towns of Scotland have generally an appearance unusual to
Englishmen. The houses, whether great or small, are for the most part built of stones.
Their ends are now and then next the streets, and the entrance into
them is very often by a flight of steps, which reaches up to the second story, the floor
which is level with the ground being entered only by stairs descending within the house.
The art of joining squares of glass with lead is little used in
Scotland, and in some places is totally forgotten. The frames of their windows are all of
wood. They are more frugal of their glass than the English, and will often, in houses not
otherwise mean, compose a square of two pieces, not joining like cracked glass, but with
one edge laid perhaps half an inch over the other. Their windows do not move upon hinges,
but are pushed up and drawn down in grooves, yet they are seldom accommodated with weights
and pullies. He that would have his window open must hold it with his hand, unless what
may be sometimes found among good contrivers, there be a nail which he may stick into a
hole, to keep it from falling.
What cannot be done without some uncommon trouble or particular
expedient, will not often be done at all. The incommodiousness of the Scotch windows keeps
them very closely shut. The necessity of ventilating human habitations has not yet been
found by our northern neighbours; and even in houses well built and elegantly furnished, a
stranger may be sometimes forgiven, if he allows himself to wish for fresher air.
These diminutive observations seem to take away something from the
dignity of writing, and therefore are never communicated but with hesitation, and a little
fear of abasement and contempt. But it must be remembered, that life consists not of a
series of illustrious actions, or elegant enjoyments; the greater part of our time passes
in compliance with necessities, in the performance of daily duties, in the removal of
small inconveniences, in the procurement of petty pleasures; and we are well or ill at
ease, as the main stream of life glides on smoothly, or is ruffled by small obstacles and
frequent interruption. The true state of every nation is the state of common life. The
manners of a people are not to be found in the schools of learning, or the palaces of
greatness, where the national character is obscured or obliterated by travel or
instruction, by philosophy or vanity; nor is public happiness to be estimated by the
assemblies of the gay, or the banquets of the rich. The great mass of nations is neither
rich nor gay: they whn life. The
manners of a people are not to be found in the schools of learning, or the palaces of
greatness, where the national character is obscured or obliterated by travel or
instruction, by philosophy or vanity; nor is public happiness to be estimated by the
assemblies of the gay, or the banquets of the rich. The great mass of nations is neither
rich nor gay: they whose aggregate constitutes the people, are found in the streets, and
the villages, in the shops and farms; and from them collectively considered, must the
measure of general prosperity be taken. As they approach to delicacy a nation is refined,
as their conveniences are multiplied, a nation, at least a commercial nation, must be
denominated wealthy.
