Of flocks or herds there was no
appearance. I had now travelled two hundred miles in Scotland, and
seen only one tree not younger than myself.
BAMFF
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.
