When I came into the City of _Edinburgh_, which is the Capital of the Kingdom, I thought I was got into _West-Smithfield_, for such a Place for Nastiness was not to be found upon Earth, for as the latter was but fill’d with Beasts Dung, the other was more nasty than a common Jakes or Inns-of-Court House of Office, for having a Dung-Tub at the Head of every Pair of Stairs in their Houses, which are 14 or 15 low Stories high, they are emptied a-nights on Peoples Heads without any respect of Persons, so that till 8 or 9 o’ th’ Clock in the Morning, the whole City, which may be a Mile in Length, is scented with the excellent Perfume of _Scotch_ Civit Cats; and all the Woman here look as ugly as the _Four of Clubs_, which some call _Wibling_’s Witch, from one _James Wibling_, who in the Reign of King _James_ the First grew rich by private Gaming, and was commonly observ’d to have this Card in his Hand, so that he never lost a Game but when he mist it.
All the _Scots_ are generally as great Enemies to Gentility and nice Dressing, as _Diogenes_ the morose _Cynic_ was to _Plato_, because of his courtly Compliance with the World; and to be honest would be as great a Mortification to them as _Lent_ to a poor Player. They’ll sit as lovingly about Oaten Cakes and Butter, as a Parcel of Tarpaulins round a Platter of Burgue; and they love Hunger and Ease, as well as a Lawyer does _Term-Time_. Tho’ they hate the solemn Festival of _Christmas_, and other Holy-days, yet they pay some Veneration to St. _Andrew_; and will be as Drunk on the _30th_ of _November_, as any Shoemaker once a Year to the Remembrance of _Crispin_. They hold Fairs in many Places, at which is much Mobbing, Whoring and Drunkenness as at our _Shirking-Fair_ by _Tyburn_: And Mrs. _Cicilia_, they say, is no Saint, but a common Strumpet bred up at a Three-penny Hop in _London_. I never saw the Sign of the _Brats-Tumbler_ any where, which makes me believe every _Scotch_ Woman brings her Urchins into the World, without the Assistance of Madam _Grope_, to save Charges; on a _Sunday_ Morning the _Scots_ will run 4 or 5 Miles to a Conventicle; and in the Afternoon to the Mountains to louse themselves.
It is suppos’d by some, that _Scotland_ is the Land of _Nod_, to which _Cain_ was exil’d a Vagabond for the Murther of his Brother _Abel_; and truly in my Opinion the Supposition may be Very probable, for _Cain_’s being an Inhabitant there, the Ground hath been curst ever since, for it is a most barren Place to this very Day. Had grazing _Nebuchadnezzar_ been here, he would have found but bad Pasture; and _Judas_ as much plagu’d for a Tree to hang himself on. Bag-Pipes they esteem before Organs; there’s as much Hypocrisy in their Pantile-Houses as Irreligion in a _Jews_ Synagogue; and the Dog-Days are not so warm here as in more Southerly Climates, but their Bitches Nights every where are too hot with a Vengeance. Here is every Day an Autumn among the Women; for, for a Noggin of Brandy they will fall as thick on their Backs as the Leaves in St. _James_’s Park do in _September_; and Law and Equity are as great Strangers to the _Scots_, as Honesty to the Justice of Peace that’s lately run from _Clare-Court_ to the _Mint_, and who (when in Commission) was fitter to sit on a Butcher’s Block, as his Father did before him, than in a Magistrate’s Chair.