Edinburgh / Painted by John Fulleylove; described by Rosaline Masson

West from the Hill shows the picturesque and irregular mass of the Castle, immediately behind the classic monument to Dugald Stewart, which occupies the foreground of the picture. On the right of the monument and the south side of Princes Street appear in succession the tower of the North British Railway Hotel, and the monument to Sir Walter Scott. On the left of the picture is seen part of the Old Town, with the Imperial Crown of St. Giles’s, the spire of the Tolbooth Church, and the dome of the Bank of Scotland, forming a well-assorted trio. Under these, and over the railway, stretches the North Bridge; below lies the Calton Old burial-ground, with its obelisk. In the near foreground of the picture is a rustic stone seat much used by weary sightseers.
PAINTED BY JOHN FULLEYLOVE, R.I. DESCRIBED BY ROSALINE MASSON WITH TWENTY-ONE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR LONDON: ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK COMPANY, LTD. 1904
On page 88, line 2, for James III. read James V.
The Illustrations in this volume were engraved in England by the Hentschel Colourtype Process.


There, watching high the least alarms, Thy rough, rude fortress gleams afar; Like some bold veteran, gray in arms, And marked with many a scamy scar; The ponderous wall and massy bar, Grim rising o’er the rugged rock, Have oft withstood assailing war, And oft repelled the invader’s shock. Burns.
THE great line of east coast lying between the two headlands of Norfolk and Aberdeenshire is nowhere broken by another so bold and graceful indentation as that of the Firth of Forth. The Forth has its birth among hills that look down on Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond; flows thence in a pretty tortuous course towards the east, forming a boundary-line between the countries of the Gael and the Sassenach; is replenished by the Teith from the Trossachs and by the Allan from Strathmore; meanders at the foot of Stirling Castle, and seems never to weary of weaving its silver windings into that green expanse of country where most the Scottish imagination loves to linger; until at last, when there is poured into it the Devon from the Ochils, its channel widens to the sea somewhat suddenly. But even here the diverging banks, once so near, show an occasional friendly inclination to meet; and at one point there is only a mile of blue water and white waves between them, and then the view widens and the shores part irrevocably, the one stretching away to the extreme “east neuk” of Fife, and looking