Neglected Edinburgh 
at the close of the civil war. Queen Mary’s 
apartments remain intact. If one is not 
quite sure of the dark stain upon the floor, it 
is not difficult to believe in, and belief gives 
iise to a wonderful sensation which the 
current historical novel is powerless to re¬ 
produce. 
1 he illustration below shows a huge can¬ 
non mounted on an upper platform of the 
castle, which was built up in 1476, after the 
manner of a barrel, with thick iron bars 
hooped together. 
Its origin has, until lately, been attributed 
to a famous arsenal in Belgium, Mons by 
name, but Scottish archaeologists have now 
pretty well come to the conclusion that it is 
of home manufacture. It was used by 
James IV. in his military operations, and 
burst in 1683 while a salute was being fired. 
It was then removed as an historical trophy, 
to the tower of London but, at the sug¬ 
gestion of Sir Walter Scott, was restored 
to Edinburgh by the Duke of Wellington. 
One’s farewell of Edinburgh should be 
taken from Arthur’s Seat. Here the city, 
and indeed no small part of Scotland, is seen 
in a view quite as national as local. From 
Ben Lomond to the German Ocean, from 
Prestonpans to the old battlefield of the 
Romans and the Piets, every rood of land is 
historic; and it is of strange significance that 
one can see from here the three chief seats of 
royalty in the ancient kingdom Holyrood, 
Stirling and Linlithgow. 
To the north is the one modern blot upon 
the landscape; the hideous Forth bridge 
humping its ugly way across the Firth to 
Oueensferry. So out of scale is it with its 
surroundings, and so unnecessarily and stu¬ 
pidly unpleasing in its outline, that one is 
tempted to hope for it the same fate as its 
brother of the Tay—a malediction which 
recalls the motto of the city of Edinburgh: 
nisi Donnnus jrustra. 
Mons Meg 
15 
