object for that magnificent prospect of the Trosachs and Ben Venue, which, piled upon the shining level of Loch Achray, may be viewed so advantageously from this point.

Further along the road, where Loch Achray has narrowed its banks and is lost in the river Turk, and still within the limits of a lady's walk from the Trosachs Hotel, there are the varied attractions of the wild forest of Glenfinlas, with its still wilder legends; the cascade of the river Turk,

Whose waters their wild tumult toss
Adown the black and craggy boss
Of that huge cliff, whose ample verge
Tradition calls the Hero's Targe;-

and the Brig o' Turk itself, where Fitz-James found himself riding alone in his chase of that famous stag whose career set in motion the rolling stone of adventure that led the fair Lady of the Lake to Stirling's tower. It is an ordinary-looking bridge, that spans the narrow river with one arch, and on to whose roadway the coach-road from the Trosachs enters at a disagreeably sharp angle. Beyond are seen the flat fields of Lanrick Mead, the muster-place of the Clan Alpines; the gables of the Trosachs New Hotel' mark the spot where Mr. MacIntyre will receive the tourist with a Highland welcome; to the left the hills rise, ridge on ridge,' to the lofty summit of Ben Ledi; and to the right is the upper end of Loch Vennachar, where FitzJames had his wish '-and from every rock, broom, and bracken, a follower of Roderick Dhu leapt forth to sight, and then, at their leader's whistle, vanished as suddenly as they had appeared.

In short, the comfortable hotel at the Trosachs will be found a famous starting-point for innumerable scenes

A GOOD STARTING-POINT.

261

of the highest beauty and interest; and between here and Edinburgh, by way of Callander, Doune, Dunblane, Bridge of Allan, Stirling, Bannockburn, Falkirk, and Linlithgow, there are many places easily accessible by railway, of which, if I here omit the special mention, it is neither from not having visited them, nor having failed to perceive and appreciate their attractions, but solely because the limits of these pages compel me to pass over certain spots where I would fain have lingered in converse with my reader. But the reader's patience must be considered, and the printer's bounds must not be outstripped; and so I cast overboard the places just mentioned, and others not enumerated. As Newman Nogg's barber said, 'We must draw a line somewhere.'

CHAPTER XXVI.

AULD REEKIE.

First View and Impressions of Edinburgh-First, Second, and
Third Thoughts-A Night View-General Illumination-
Auld ReekiePresent Smells and Past Memories-Knox's
House Grave of Knox-Moray House - The Mound-
Localising Scripture Scenes The Judge and the Wild
Beasts-St. Giles's Church-Blondin Outdone-The Grass
Market-The Porteous Mob-The Caddies-Heriot's Hospital
-Other Hospitals-West Bow and Port-Entry of Charles I.--
Major Weir and his Ghostly Revels-The Haunted House-
Burke and Hare.

THE

HE first view of Edinburgh is always impressive, and a sight to be remembered, even by a travelled man who has seen the older Athens, and Dublin, Rome, Naples, and Constantinople. Sir David Wilkie found congregated in Edinburgh all those beauties. for a sight of which it was thought necessary to make the tour of Europe; and although to this high eulogium we may apply the unavoidable partisanship of the writer's nationality, yet its substantial truth must be acknowledged. My expectations of Edinburgh were pitched to such a very high note, that I never expected it would be sustained when put to the trial; but would at any rate be lowered, if it was even but that half-note which Mrs. Hemans said was invariably lost by the human voice in its song of joy. I may safely say that my note, instead of being depressed, was raised, and that my expectations were more than realised. In short,

IMPRESSIONS OF EDINBURGH.

263

Edinburgh was almost the only city that I have seen, of which my extravagant ideal fell short of the real.

First impressions are momentous, and are usually those to which we cling; for even where second thoughts are really best, they are not commonly adopted. The second thought discusses all the pros and cons of the first impression, and generally leads to a third thought, which, for the most part, agrees with the first. In nine cases out of ten, the first impressions of a tolerably well-educated and observant person are the truest impressions, although they may have to be modified by after-thoughts and circumstances. In the instance of Edinburgh, everyone's first impression of this wonderful city will probably need no material modification by any after-thoughts or prolonged acquaintance. I certainly have never read of or met with any person to whom Edinburgh has been a disappointment. Its very slums are picturesque, and highly agreeable to the pictorial mind, even when most offensive to the moral and physical sense.

Of such a city, the first sight is an event not to be forgotten; and, in my own case, made too great an impression upon me for me ever to lose its memory. We arrived at Edinburgh at half-past eight o'clock on an August evening, when the night was very dark, though starlight. From the rocky ravine of the driedup loch, along whose shadowy depths the railway runs, we peered through the darkness at the enormous piles of houses towering to a great height above our heads, and, high as they really were, yet looking far loftier to us, as we looked up to them from our deep ravine through the mysterious darkness. Rows upon rows of windows, rising higher and higher, and all lighted up as though for a general illumination, the lines of light

twinkling so high up in the solemn deep-blue darkness of the night, that they seemed at last to be lost amid the stars. I had seen the giant factories of Manchester and Stockport similarly illuminated, and producing such a beautiful and striking effect, that I had felt tempted to make the wild assertion that those two important manufacturing towns were really picturesque places. But the illumination of the old town of Edinburgh is far more striking, especially when viewed, as I saw it, from the railway ravine; from which spot the lines of lamps in lofty Princes Street also contribute their share to the general effect. The view is less striking-although, even then, very remarkable— when seen from Princes Street itself, where the spectator is on a level with the lights. The endless series of illuminated windows in the old town is, of course, due to the Scotch system of 'flats' that apportions the various stories to different families, and thus brings about a nightly result that might remind a Romanist of Candlemas and St. Blaise.

It is this ridge of the old town, leading up to the lofty rock that rises from the valley by Holyrood, and ends precipitously in the Castle, that first arrests the stranger's eye. It forms the very backbone of the city, whose giant limbs are now stretched over the neighbouring hills; and in it and about it are closely packed all the historical traditions of what Ben Jonson calls

The heart of Scotland, Britain's other eye.

It was from the narrow wynds and closes that honeycomb these ten and twelve-storied smoky houses,

Piled deep and massy, close and high,

that Edinburgh received and deserved its epithet of 'Auld Reekie,' of which Smollett's Humphrey Clinker'