Transcribed from the 1903 Seeley & Co. Ltd. edition byDavid Price,
EDINBURGH
Picturesque Notes
by
Robert Louis Stevenson
People’s Edition.
london
SEELEY & CO. Ltd., 38 Great Russell Street
1903
CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.
The ancient and famous metropolis of the North sitsoverlooking a windy estuary from the slope and summit of threehills. No situation could be more commanding for the headcity of a kingdom; none better chosen for noble prospects. From her tall precipice and terraced gardens she looks far andwide on the sea and broad champaigns. To the east you maycatch at sunset the spark of the May lighthouse, where the Firthexpands into the German Ocean; and away to the west, over all thecarse of Stirling, you can see the first snows upon Ben Ledi.
But Edinburgh pays cruelly for her high seat in one of thevilest climates under heaven. She is liable to be beatenupon by all the winds that blow, to be drenched with rain, to beburied in cold sea fogs out of the east, and powdered with thesnow as it comes flying southward from the Highland hills. The weather is raw and boisterous in winter, shifty and ungenialin summer, and a downright meteorological purgatory in thespring. The delicate die early, and I, as a survivor, amongbleak winds and plumping rain, have been sometimes tempted toenvy them their fate. For all who love shelter and theblessings of the sun, who hate dark weather and perpetual tiltingagainst squalls, there could scarcely be found a more unhomelyand harassing place of residence. Many such aspire angrilyafter that Somewhere-else of the imagination, where all troublesare supposed to end. They lean over the great bridge whichjoins the New Town with the Old—that windiest spot, or highaltar, in this northern temple of the winds—and watch thetrains smoking out from under them and vanishing into the tunnelon a voyage to brighter skies. Happy the passengers whoshake off the dust of Edinburgh, and have heard for the last timethe cry of the east wind among her chimney-tops! And yetthe place establishes an interest in people’s hearts; gowhere they will, they find no city of the same distinction; gowhere they will, they take a pride in their old home.
Venice, it has been said, differs from another cities in thesentiment which she inspires. The rest may have admirers;she only, a famous fair one, counts lovers in her train. And, indeed, even by her kindest friends, Edinburgh is notconsidered in a similar sense. These like her for manyreasons, not any one of which is satisfactory in itself. They like her whimsically, if you will, and somewhat as avirtuoso dotes upon his cabinet. Her attraction is romanticin the narrowest meaning of the term. Beautiful as she is,she is not so much beautiful as interesting. She ispre-eminently Gothic, and all the more so since she has setherself off with some Greek airs, and erected classic temples onher crags. In a word, and above all, she is acuriosity. The Palace of Holyrood has been left aside inthe growth of Edinburgh, and stands grey and silent in aworkman’s quarter and among breweries and gas works. It is a house of many memories. Great people of yore, kingsand queens, buffoons and grave ambassadors, played their statelyfarce for centuries in