It wanted less than a quarter of
nine when the last gleam faded from the windows of the old town, and left
the crowd of buildings dim and indistinguishable, to reappear on the
morrow in squalor, lifting their meanness skyward, the home of layer upon
layer of unfortunate humanity. The change symbolized the difference
between a poet's imagination of life in the past--or in a state which he
looks at through a colored and illuminated medium--and the sad reality.
This morning we took a cab, and set forth between ten and eleven to see
Edinburgh and its environs; driving past the University, and other
noticeable objects in the old town, and thence out to Arthur's Seat.
Salisbury Crags are a very singular feature of the outskirts. From the
heights, beneath Arthur's Seat, we had a fine prospect of the sea, with
Leith and Portobello in the distance, and of a fertile plain at the foot
of the hill. In the course of our drive our cabman pointed out
Dumbiedikes' house; also the cottage of Jeanie Deans,--at least, the spot
where it formerly stood; and Muschat's Cairn, of which a small heap of
stones is yet remaining. Near this latter object are the ruins of St.
Anthony's Chapel, a roofless gable, and other remains, standing on the
abrupt hillside. We drove homeward past a parade-ground on which a body
of cavalry was exercising, and we met a company of infantry on their
route thither. Then we drove near Calton Hill, which seems to be not a
burial-ground, although the site of stately monuments.
Pages:
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757