 into the glen on the
south-eastern side of the city of Edinburgh. The prospect, in its general
outline, commands a close-built, high-piled city, stretching itself out beneath
in a form, which, to a romantic imagination, may be supposed to represent that
of a dragon; now, a noble arm of the sea, with its rocks, isles, distant shores,
and boundary of mountains; and now, a fair and fertile champaign country, varied
with hill, dale, and rock, and skirted by the picturesque ridge of the Pentland
mountains. But as the path gently circles around the base of the cliffs, the
prospect, composed as it is of these enchanting and sublime objects, changes at
every step, and presents them blended with, or divided from, each other, in
every possible variety which can gratify the eye and the imagination. When a
piece of scenery so beautiful, yet so varied, - so exciting by its intricacy,
and yet so sublime, - is lighted up by the tints of morning or of evening, and
displays all that variety of shadowy depth, exchanged with partial brilliancy,
which gives character even to the tamest of landscapes, the effect approaches
near to enchantment. This path used to be my favourite evening and morning
resort, when engaged with a favourite author, or new subject of study. It is, I
am informed, now become totally impassable; a circumstance which, if true,
reflects little credit on the taste of the Good Town or its leaders.14
    It was from this fascinating path - the scene to me of so much delicious
musing, when life was young and promised to be happy, that I have been unable to
pass it over without an episodical description - it was, I say, from this
romantic path that Butler saw the morning arise the day after the murder of
Porteous. It was possible for him with ease to have found a much shorter road to
the house to which he was directing his course, and, in fact, that which he
chose was extremely circuitous. But to compose his own spirits, as well as to
while away the time, until a proper hour for visiting the family without
surprise or disturbance, he was induced to extend his circuit by the foot of the
rocks, and to linger upon his way until the morning should be considerably
advanced. While, now standing with his arms across, and waiting the slow
progress of the sun above the horizon, now sitting upon one of the numerous
fragments which storms had detached from the rocks above him, he is meditating,
