and jagged crown of bastions on the western sky. -
Perhaps it is now one in the afternoon; and at the same
instant of time, a ball rises to the summit of Nelson's
flagstaff close at hand, and, far away, a puff of smoke
followed by a report bursts from the half-moon battery at
the Castle. This is the time-gun by which people set
their watches, as far as the sea coast or in hill farms
upon the Pentlands. - To complete the view, the eye
enfilades Princes Street, black with traffic, and has a
broad look over the valley between the Old Town and the
New: here, full of railway trains and stepped over by the
high North Bridge upon its many columns, and there, green
with trees and gardens.

On the north, the Calton Hill is neither so abrupt
in itself nor has it so exceptional an outlook; and yet
even here it commands a striking prospect. A gully
separates it from the New Town. This is Greenside, where
witches were burned and tournaments held in former days.
Down that almost precipitous bank, Bothwell launched his
horse, and so first, as they say, attracted the bright
eyes of Mary. It is now tesselated with sheets and
blankets out to dry, and the sound of people beating
carpets is rarely absent. Beyond all this, the suburbs
run out to Leith; Leith camps on the seaside with her
forest of masts; Leith roads are full of ships at anchor;
the sun picks out the white pharos upon Inchkeith Island;
the Firth extends on either hand from the Ferry to the
May; the towns of Fifeshire sit, each in its bank of
blowing smoke, along the opposite coast; and the hills