nd amid much confused and imperfect
recollection of picturesque groups of ancient buildings, and magnificent
assemblages of elegant modern ones, I carried away with me two vividly
distinct ideas--first results, as a painter might perhaps say, of a
"fresh eye," which no after survey has served to freshen or intensify. I
felt that I had seen, not one, but two cities--a city of the past and a
city of the present--set down side by side, as if for purposes of
comparison, with a picturesque valley drawn like a deep score between
them, to mark off the line of division. And such in reality seems to be
the grand peculiarity of the Scottish capital--its distinguishing trait
among the cities of the empire; though, of course, during the
twenty-nine years that have elapsed since I first saw it, the more
ancient of its two cities--greatly modernized in many parts--has become
less uniformly and consistently antique in its aspect. Regarded simply
as matters of taste, I have found little to admire in the improvements
that have so materially changed its aspect. Of its older portions I used
never to tire: I found I could walk among them as purely for the
pleasure which accrued, as among the wild and picturesque of nature
itself; whereas one visit to the elegant streets and ample squares of
the new city always proved sufficient to satisfy; and I certainly never
felt the desire to return to any of them to saunter in quest of pleasure
along the smooth, well-kept pavements. I of course except Princes
Street. There the two cities stand ranged side by side, as if for
comparison; and the eye falls on the features of a natural scenery that
would of itself be singularly pleasing even were both the cities away.
Next day I waited on the town-clerk, Mr. Veitch, to see whether he could
not suggest to me some way in which I might shake myself loose from my
unfortunate property on the Coal-hill. He received me civilly--told me
that the property was not quite so desperate an investment as I seemed
to think it, as at least the site, in which I had an interest with the
other proprietors, was worth something, and as the little courtyard was
exclusively my own; and that he thought he could get the whole disposed
of for me, if I was prepared to accept of a small price. And I was of
course, as I told him, prepared to accept of a very small one. Further,
on learning that I was a stone-cutter, and unemployed, he kindly
introduced me to one of his friends, a master