Monday, 30.--We set out in a fine morning. A little before we reached Nairn, we were met by a messenger from the minister, Mr. Dunbar; he desired that I would breakfast with him and give them a sermon in his church. Afterward we hastened to Elgin, through a pleasant and well-cultivated country. When we set out from hence, the rain began and poured down till we came to the Spey, the most impetuous river I ever saw. Finding the large boat was in no haste to move, I stepped into a small one, just going off. It whirled us over the stream almost in a minute. I waited at the inn at Fochabers (dark and dirty enough in all reason), till our friends overtook me with the horses. The outside of the inn at Keith was of the same hue, and promised us no great things. But we were agreeably disappointed. We found plenty of everything and so dried ourselves at leisure.
Sunday, May 6.--I preached in the college kirk at Old Aberdeen, to a very serious (though mostly genteel) congregation. In the evening I preached at our own room and early in the morning took my leave of this loving people. We came to Montrose about noon. I had designed to preach there but found no notice had been given. However, I went down to the green and sang a hymn. People presently flocked from all parts, and God gave me great freedom of speech; I hope we did not meet in vain.
At seven in the evening I preached at Arbroath, properly Aberbrothwick. The whole town seems moved: the congregation was the largest I have seen since we left Inverness. And the society, though but of nine months' standing, is the largest in the kingdom, next that of Aberdeen.
Tuesday, 8.--I took a view of the small remains of the abbey. I know nothing like it in all North Britain. I paced it and found it a hundred yards long. The breadth is proportionable. Part of the west end, which is still standing, shows it was fully as high as Westminster Abbey. The south end of the cross aisle likewise is standing, near the top of which is a large circular window. The zealous Reformers, they told us, burnt this down. God deliver us from reforming mobs!
I have seen no town in Scotland which increases so fast, or which is built with so much common sense, as this. Two entirely new streets and part of a third have been built within these two years. They run parallel with each other and have a row of gardens between them. So that every house has a garden, and thus both health and convenience are consulted.
Monday, 14.--After ten years' inquiry, I have learned what are the Highlands of Scotland. Some told me, "The Highlands begin when you cross the Tay"; others, "when you cross the North Esk"; and others, "when you cross the river Spey." But all of them missed the mark. The truth of the matter is, the Highlands are bounded by no river at all, but by carns, or heaps of stones laid in a row, southwest and northeast, from sea to sea. These formerly divided the kingdom of the Picts from that of the Caledonians, which included all the country north of the carns; several whereof are still remaining. It takes in Argyleshire, most of Perthshire, Murrayshire, with all the northwest counties. This is called the Highlands because a considerable part of it (though not the whole) is mountainous. But it is not more mountainous than North Wales, nor than many parts of England and Ireland; nor do I believe it has any mountain higher than Snowdon Hill, or the Skiddaw in Cumberland. Talking Erse [Gaelic], therefore, is not the thing that distinguishes these from the Lowlands. Neither is this or that river; both the Tay, the Esk, and the Spey running through the Highlands, not south of them.
Friday, 18.--We rode over to the Earl of Haddington's seat, finely situated between two woods. The house is exceedingly large and pleasant, commanding a wide prospect both ways; and the Earl is cutting walks through the woods, smoothing the ground and much enlarging and beautifying his garden. Yet he is to diel In the evening, I trust God broke some of the stony hearts of Dunbar. A little increase here is in the society likewise, and all the members walk unblamably.