When we landed, we found our chaise ready, and passed through Kinghorn,
Kirkaldy, and Cowpar, places not unlike the small or straggling market-
towns in those parts of England where commerce and manufactures have not
yet produced opulence.

Though we were yet in the most populous part of Scotland, and at so small
a distance from the capital, we met few passengers.

The roads are neither rough nor dirty; and it affords a southern stranger
a new kind of pleasure to travel so commodiously without the interruption
of toll-gates. Where the bottom is rocky, as it seems commonly to be in
Scotland, a smooth way is made indeed with great labour, but it never
wants repairs; and in those parts where adventitious materials are
necessary, the ground once consolidated is rarely broken; for the inland
commerce is not great, nor are heavy commodities often transported
otherwise than by water. The carriages in common use are small carts,
drawn each by one little horse; and a man seems to derive some degree of
dignity and importance from the reputation of possessing a two-horse
cart.




ST. ANDREWS


At an hour somewhat late we came to St. Andrews, a city once
archiepiscopal; where that university still subsists in which philosophy
was formerly taught by Buchanan, whose name has as fair a claim to
immortality as can be conferred by modern latinity, and perhaps a fairer