The Tolbooth was originally a parliament house, and at last a prison. It is referred to in Sir Walter Scott's "Heart of Midlothian," and is marked as the northwest corner of St. Giles's by the figure of a heart cut in the pavement.
The house in which Knox resided is one of the quaintest imaginable. It is not far from St. Giles's, and is very irregular in outline, of a dark brown color, three and a half projecting stories in height. He occupied it from 1560 to 1572, when he died in the 67th year of his age. Over the door is the inscription:—
Lufe God abuf all, and ye nychtbour as yiself.
One can imagine some of the remarkable questions here considered, for matters pregnant with great issues were held in this building. At one time the care of all the Scotch churches, and even of the nation itself, rested heavily on the spirit of John Knox; but he was not often the morose fanatic he is sometimes represented. Few men enjoyed social intercourse more than he, or more readily availed themselves of an opportunity for its enjoyment. A few days before his death he desired his servant to tap a cask of wine that had been presented to him, that he might share it with friends who were paying him a visit, remarking that he was "not likely to tarry till it be finished." We must content ourselves with an extract from the Diary of James Melville, in which he gives a graphic description of his preaching, and more especially that of his last days:—
In the opening of his text he was moderat the space of an halff houre: but when he enterit to application, he made me sa to grew and tremble, that I could nocht hald a pen to wryt. Mr. Knox wald sumtyme come in and repose him in our college-yard, and call us scholars to him, and bless us, and exort us to know God and His wark in our country, and to stand by the guid caus. I saw him every day in his doctrine [preaching] go hulie and fear [cautiously] with a furring of martriks about his neck, a staff in the ane hand, and guid godlie Richart Ballenden, his servand, holdin up the other oxtar, from the abbey to the paroche kirk, and by the said Richart and another servand, lifted up to the pulpit, where he behovdit to lean at his first entrie, but or he had done with his sermon, he was sa active and vigorous that he was like to ding that pulpit in blads and flee out of it.
As early as 1746 a theatre was established in Edinburgh, and the church of those days, intensely conservative though it was, rather encouraged than opposed it, for Dr. Carlyle says:—
When Mrs. Siddons first appeared in Edinburgh during the sitting of the General Assembly, the court was obliged to fix all its important business for the alternate days when she did not act, as the younger members of the clergy, as well as the laity, took their stations in the theatre on those days by three in the afternoon.
On St. John Street near by, Smollett, the historian and novelist for a time resided with his sister, Mrs. Telfer. The next building to this was the Canongate Kilwinning Lodge, where Robert Burns, poet-laureate to the lodge, was made a Royal Arch Mason. At No. 13 lived Lord Monboddo and his beautiful daughter, Miss Burnet, whose death Burns so touchingly commemorated. Lord Monboddo anticipated Darwin, for he propounded the theory that the human family had ascended from the monkey. His contemporaries were not disposed to favor his opinions, which exposed the noble lord to the jocular request, "Show us your tail, Monboddo." At No. 10 was the residence of James Ballantine, the printer of the first editions of the Waverley Novels, whose commercial failure involved Sir Walter Scott, as a partner, in the anxieties which beclouded the best years of his life, and compelled him to overtask his strength in the honorable ambition to "owe no man anything." Ballantine was in the habit of giving a great dinner at this house on the occasion of every new publication by Sir Walter, and therefore it is linked with the memory of most of Scott's literary contemporaries, who, with the Duke of Buccleuch, were usually invited to the feast. At Panmure Close the celebrated Adam Smith lived for twelve years, and died July 8, 1790.
Before closing this account of places of especial interest—and we have spoken of but one of a thousand—we must name what is called the Abbey Sanctuary, the only one remaining in Scotland. This is a large territory, in the vicinity of Holyrood Palace, and includes the whole range of Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, and the Queen's Park. It was set apart centuries ago, as a district into which poor but honest debtors might flee for safety from imprisonment. So long as they could prove that they were not fraudulent bankrupts, they were safe in this land of refuge, and on the Sabbath they could go over the city, wherever they pleased, until sunset. This freedom naturally tempted some of them to transgress the hour, and they were then in peril of the bumbailiffs; but history says that "as the bailiffs would no more dare to cross the sacred strand than a witch can pursue its victim over a running stream, there were often tremendous treats at the foot of Canongate." On one such occasion the fugitive fell just as he was at the strand, or boundary line. His body was on the safe side, but his legs were captured, and held by the bailiffs till an arrangement was made for his temporary relief. The question of jurisdiction came up in Parliament, and after much grave discussion it was decided and resolved that, "as the bailiff could do nothing with a man's legs unless he had the body they belonged to, the debtor must be allowed to take his legs along with him."
Sir Walter Scott's residence for some years was No. 39 Castle Street, and a literary Frenchman has remarked that "it was a right number for Sir Walter, as it was fitting that the Three Graces and Nine Muses should take their station there." It was in this house that occurred the ludicrous incident which Sir Walter utilizes in the "Bride of Lammermoor," when he represents the faithful Caleb Balderstone as excusing the non-appearance of dinner by the fact of a fall of soot down the chimney. Sir Walter had invited numerous guests to dinner. As they were chatting together the butler entered with a face like that of him "who drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night." Beckoning to his master he informed him of the catastrophe which had taken place. Sir Walter carried his guests to Oman's Hotel in Charlotte Square, where the mishap added zest to the banquet thus speedily prepared.