these, where they have neither wood for palisades, nor thorns for hedges.

Our way was over the Firth of Tay, where, though the water was not wide,
we paid four shillings for ferrying the chaise. In Scotland the
necessaries of life are easily procured, but superfluities and elegancies
are of the same price at least as in England, and therefore may be
considered as much dearer.

We stopped a while at Dundee, where I remember nothing remarkable, and
mounting our chaise again, came about the close of the day to
Aberbrothick.

The monastery of Aberbrothick is of great renown in the history of
Scotland. Its ruins afford ample testimony of its ancient magnificence:
Its extent might, I suppose, easily be found by following the walls among
the grass and weeds, and its height is known by some parts yet standing.
The arch of one of the gates is entire, and of another only so far
dilapidated as to diversify the appearance. A square apartment of great
loftiness is yet standing; its use I could not conjecture, as its
elevation was very disproportionate to its area. Two corner towers,
particularly attracted our attention. Mr. Boswell, whose inquisitiveness
is seconded by great activity, scrambled in at a high window, but found
the stairs within broken, and could not reach the top. Of the other
tower we were told that the inhabitants sometimes climbed it, but we did
not immediately discern the entrance, and as the night was gathering upon
us, thought proper to desist. Men skilled in architecture might do what
we did not attempt: They might probably form an exact ground-plot of this
venerable edifice. They may from some parts yet standing conjecture its
general form, and perhaps by comparing it with other buildings of the
same kind and the same age, attain an idea very near to truth. I should