The city of Edinburgh—Views from Arthur's Seat—The Poems of Richard Gall—"Farewell to Ayrshire"—"Arthur's Seat, a Poem"—Extracts—Craigmillar Castle—The Forth, Roslin Castle and the Pentland Hills—Liberty.

We will enter the city on the west side, as if we were coming from Glasgow, pass through Prince's Street, with its elegant buildings and fine promenades, skirting that enclosure of walks and shrubbery, just under the frowning battlements of the Castle, and adorned with the superb statue of Sir Walter Scott, rising rapidly to its completion; then turn the corner at right-angles, cross the North Bridge, enter High Street, and thence plunge down the hill into the old Canongate; and without waiting to look at "the Heart of Midlothian," or even the beautiful ruins of Holyrood House, at the foot of the hill, let us turn to the right, and climb the rocky sides of "Arthur's Seat" with its summit of verdure overlooking the city and the neighboring country. For there the whole panorama of the city will spread itself before us, surrounded with magnificent scenery, stretching far and wide from the Pentland Hills on the one side to the Firth of Forth on the other, from Stirling Castle on the west to the German Ocean on the east. Here we are then, on the very highest point of the mountain, with the warm sunshine around us, tempered as it is by the fresh "westlin wind," at once so sweet and bland. Aye, aye! this is beautiful! What a landscape! How varied and yet how harmonious! Not only beautiful exceedingly, but ineffably grand and striking! Beneath us is the fine old city—new and old at the same time, lying nearly square, with its lofty buildings and elegant monuments, handsome parks and green shrubberies. To the left is the older part of the city, rising gradually from the palace of Holyrood at our feet, and crowned by the Castle, which is built upon a granite rock, whose rough sides, terminating abruptly to the north and west, hang over Prince's Street and the lower part of the city.

Before us and stretching away towards the Forth and the city of Leith is "the new town," surmounted on this side by the Calton Hill, on which stand the monuments of Dugald Stewart and Admiral Nelson, the unfinished Parthenon, and the monument of Robert Burns,—beautiful and imposing objects, reminding us of the Acropolis of Athens, and affording fine relief to the long ranges of smooth and polished buildings beyond. Behind us are the Pentland Hills with their verdant slopes and historic recollections. To the right lie the city and bay of Leith, "the PirÆus" of Edinburgh, the long winding shore in the direction of Portobello, and "the dark blue deep" of the ocean, studded with white sails, glistening in the summer radiance. To the north, at a distance of a few miles, you see the majestic Firth of Forth, and beyond, "in cultur'd beauty," the "Kingdom of Fife," with the distant range of the Ochil and Campsie hills. From this point also you can see, at a distance of some three miles, the gray ruins of Craigmillar Castle, famous in the annals of Scotland, as the residence of Queen Mary, and the scene of those secret machinations, which ended in the tragedy of Holyrood; Inch Keith with its lofty lighthouse; the isle of May, once consecrated to St. Adrian, and on which stands another "star of hope" to the mariner; and old Inchcolm, famous for its ancient convent founded by St. Colomba, one of the patron saints of Scotland. How gloriously, light and shade, land and ocean, park and woodland, old castles and hoary ruins, frowning rocks and smiling meadows mingle and blend in this rare and magnificent landscape.

Here you can easily understand the reason why Edinburgh has been thought to resemble the city of Athens. Mr. Stuart, author of the "Antiquities of Athens," was the first to call attention to this fact, and his opinion has often been confirmed since. Dr. Clarke remarks that the neighborhood of Athens is just the Highlands of Scotland, enriched with the splendid remains of art. Another acute observer states that the distant view of Athens from the Ægean Sea is extremely like that of Edinburgh from the Firth of Forth, "though," he adds, "certainly the latter is considerably superior." "The resemblance," says J. G. Kohl, the celebrated German traveller, "is indeed very striking. Athens, like Edinburgh, was a city of hills and valleys, and its Ilissus was probably not much larger than the Water of Leith. Athens, like Edinburgh, was an inland town, and had its harbor, PirÆus, on the sea-coast. The mountains near Edinburgh very much resemble those near Athens. I have little doubt, however, that Athens is more honored by being compared to Edinburgh, than Edinburgh to Athens; for it is probable that the scenery and position of the Northern are more grand and striking in their beauty, than those of the Southern Athens."

By the way there is a beautiful poem in the Scottish dialect, entitled "Arthur's Seat," written by Richard Gall, a young man of great promise, the friend and correspondent of Burns. He struggled with poverty, and like Fergusson and Michael Bruce, was cut off prematurely, but not before he had written some exquisite poems, in the style of Burns, whom he greatly admired. He was contemporary with the unfortunate but gifted Tannahill of Paisley, and possessed a kindred taste in song writing.[6] His "Farewell to Ayrshire," commencing—

has been often printed, on account of its locality and associations, as the composition of Burns. He is doubtless greatly inferior to Burns, and not quite equal to Bruce or even Tannahill, but his verses possess great sweetness, and contain some graphic and beautiful descriptions. This is the case especially, with "Arthur's Seat," his longest and most elaborate poem. As its sketches of scenery in and around Edinburgh, are at once accurate and pleasing, and as it is entirely unknown in America, we will take the liberty of quoting some of its finest passages.

Gazing from Arthur's Seat, the poet invokes the genius of Burns—

He aptly and strikingly interweaves historical and poetical allusions. The following contains a fine contrast, and a striking description of the ruins of Craigmillar Castle, in the vicinity of Edinburgh.

Craigmillar Castle naturally suggests the name of the beautiful and unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, who once resided within its lordly but now forsaken halls. The poet therefore breaks out into the following animated and pathetic strains, which, it has been said, will bear a comparison with Mr. Burke's celebrated rhapsody on the unfortunate Queen of France.

His descriptions of the Forth and the neighboring regions, of the Pentland hills, and the scenery of the Esk, are strikingly beautiful.

How exquisite, and how entirely and peculiarly Scottish is the following:

The genius of Scotland is one of freedom, of independent thought, and unfettered action in matters civil and religious. This produced the Reformation; this generated the recent secession from the 'Kirk;' this characterizes the literature of the nation. We cannot, therefore, refrain from making one more quotation, which breathes the lofty spirit of freedom: