a similar dominating site above the plain, and the same
superposition of one rank of society over another, are to
be observed in both. Thus, the broad and comely approach
to Princes Street from the east, lined with hotels and
public offices, makes a leap over the gorge of the Low
Calton; if you cast a glance over the parapet, you look
direct into that sunless and disreputable confluent of
Leith Street; and the same tall houses open upon both
thoroughfares. This is only the New Town passing
overhead above its own cellars; walking, so to speak,
over its own children, as is the way of cities and the
human race. But at the Dean Bridge, you may behold a
spectacle of a more novel order. The river runs at the
bottom of a deep valley, among rocks and between gardens;
the crest of either bank is occupied by some of the most
commodious streets and crescents in the modern city; and
a handsome bridge unites the two summits. Over this,
every afternoon, private carriages go spinning by, and
ladies with card-cases pass to and fro about the duties
of society. And yet down below, you may still see, with
its mills and foaming weir, the little rural village of
Dean. Modern improvement has gone overhead on its high-
level viaduct; and the extended city has cleanly
overleapt, and left unaltered, what was once the summer
retreat of its comfortable citizens. Every town embraces
hamlets in its growth; Edinburgh herself has embraced a
good few; but it is strange to see one still surviving -
and to see it some hundreds of feet below your path. Is
it Torre del Greco that is built above buried
Herculaneum? Herculaneum was dead at least; but the sun