an autobiography-第18节
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the corner of some ruin； and there roast our potatoes； or broil a red herring on an extempore gridiron we contrived for the purpose。 We lit the fire by means of a flint and steel and a tinder…box； which in those days every boy used to possess。 The bramble…berries gave us our dessert。 We thoroughly enjoyed these glorious Saturday afternoons。 It gave us quite a Robinson Crusoe sort of feeling to be thus secluded from the world。 Then the beauty of the scenery amidst which we took our repast was such as I cannot attempt to describe。 A walk of an hour or so would bring us into the presence of an old castle； or amongst the rocky furze and heather…clad hills； amidst clear rapid streams； so that； but for the distant peeps of the city； one might think that he was far from the busy haunts of men and boys。
To return to my school…days。 Shortly after I left the school in George Street； where the schoolmaster had almost split my skull in battering it upon the wall behind me； I was entered as a pupil at the Edinburgh High School； in October 1817。 The school was situated near the old Infirmary。 Professor Pillans was the rector； and under him were four masters。 I was set to study Latin under Mr。 Irvine。 He was a mere schoolmaster in the narrowest sense of the term。 He was not endowed with the best of tempers； and it was often put to the breaking strain by the tricks and negligence of the lower…form portion of his class。 It consisted of nearly two hundred boys； the other three masters had about the same number of scholars。 They each had a separate class…room。
I began to learn the elementary rudiments of Latin grammar。 But not having any natural aptitude for aquiring classic learning so called； I fear I made but little progress during the three years that I remained at the High School。 Had the master explained to us how nearly allied many of the Latin and Greek roots were to our familiar English words； I feel assured that so interesting and valuable a department of instruction would not have been neglected。 But our memories were strained by being made to say off 〃by heart；〃 as it was absurdly called； whole batches of grammatical rules； with all the botheration of irregular verbs and suchlike。 So far as I was concerned； I derived little benefit from my High School teaching； except that I derived one lesson which is of great use in after life。 I mean as regards the performance of duty。 I did my tasks punctually and cheerfully； though they were far from agreeable。 This is an exercise in early life that is very useful in later years。
In my walks to and from the High School； the usual way was along the North and South Bridges；the first over the Nor' Loch； now the railway station； and the second over the Cowgate。 That was the main street between the Old Town and the New。 But there were numerous wynds and closes （as the narrow streets are called） which led down from the High Street and the upper part of the Canongate to the High School； through which I often preferred to wander。 So long as Old Edinburgh was confined within its walls the nobles lived in those narrow streets； and the Old houses are full of historical incident。 My father often pointed out these houses to me； and I loved to keep up my recollections。 I must have had a little of the antiquarian spirit even then。 I got to know the most remarkable of those ancient housesmany of which were distinguished by the inscriptions on the lintel of the entrance； as well as the arms of the former possessors。 Some had mottoes such as this： 〃BLESIT BE GOD AND HYS GIFTIS。 1584。〃 There was often a tower…shaped projection from the main front of the house； up which a spiral stair proceeded。
This is usually a feature in old Scotch buildings。 But in these closes the entrance to the houses was through a ponderous door； studded with great broad…headed nails； with loopholes at each side of the door； as if to present the strongest possible resistance to any attempt at forcible entrance。 Indeed； in the old times before the Union the nobles were often as strong as the King； and many a time the High Street was reddened by the blood of the noblest and bravest of the land。 In 1588 there was a cry of 〃A Naesmyth；〃 〃A Scott；〃 in the High Street。 It was followed by a clash of arms； and two of Sir Michael Naesmyth's sons were killed in that bloody feud。 Edinburgh was often the scene of such disasters。 Hence the strengthening of their houses； so as to resist the inroads of feudal enemies。
＇Image＇ Doorhead； from an old mansion
The mason…work of the doors was executed with great care and dexterity。 It was chamfered at the edges in a bold manner； and ornamented with an O。G。 bordering； which had a fine effect while it rendered the entrance more pleasant by the absence of sharp angles。 The same style of ornamentation was generally found round the edges of the stone…work of the windows； most commonly by chamfering off the square angle of the stone…work。 This not only added a grim grace to the appearance of the windows； but allowed a more free entrance of light into the apartments； while it permitted the inmates to have a better ranged view up and down the Close。 These gloomy…looking mansions were grim in a terrible sense； and they reminded one of the fearful transactions of 〃the good old times！〃
On many occasions； when I was taking a daunder through these historic houses in the wynds and closes of the Old Town； I have met Sir Walter Scott showing them to his visitors； and listened to his deep； earnest voice while narrating to them some terrible incident in regard to their former inhabitants。 On other occasions I have frequently met Sir Walter sturdily limping along over the North Bridge； while on his way from the Court of Session （where he acted as Clerk of the Records） to his house in Castle Street。 In the same way I saw most of the public characters connected with the Law Courts or the University。 Sir Waiter was easily distinguished by his height； as well as his limp or halt in his walk。 My father was intimate with most； if not all； of the remarkable Edinburgh characters； and when I had the pleasure of accompanying him in his afternoon walks I could look at them and hear them in the conversations that took place。
I remember； when I was with my father in one of his walks； that a young English artist accompanied us。 He had come across the Border to be married at Gretna Green； and he brought his bride onward to Edinburgh。 My father wished to show him some of the most remarkable old buildings of the town。 It was about the end of 1817； when one of the most interesting buildings in Edinburgh was about to be demolished。 This was no less a place than the Old Tolbooth in the High Street；a grand but gloomy old building。 It had been originally used as the city palace of the Scottish kings。 There they held their councils and dispensed justice。 But in course of time the King and Court abandoned the place； and it had sunk into a gaol or prison for the most abandoned of malefactors。 After their trial the prisoners were kept there waiting for execution； and they were hanged on a flat…roofed portion of the building at its west end。
＇Image＇ The Old Tolbooth； Edinburgh。 By Alexander Nasmyth。 From the drawing in the possession of lord Inglis； Lord Justice…General。
At one of the strongest parts of the building a strong oak chest； iron…plated； had been built in； held fast by a thick wall of stone and mortar on each side。 The iron chest measured about nine feet square； and was closed by a strong iron door with heavy bolts and locks。 This was the Heart of Midlothian； the condemned cell of the Tolbooth。* ＇footnote。。。 Long after the condemned cell had been pulled down； an English Chartist went down to Edinburgh to address a large meeting of his brother politicians。 He began by addressing them as 〃Men of the Heart of Midlothian！〃 There was a loud guffaw throughout the audience。 He addressed them as if they were a body of condemned malefactors。 。。。＇
The iron chest was so heavy that the large body of workmen could not； with all their might； pull it out。 After stripping it of its masonry； they endeavoured by strong levers to tumble it down into the street。 At last； with a 〃Yo！ heave ho！〃 it fell down with a mighty crash。
The iron chest was so strong that it held together； and only the narrow iron door； with its locks； bolts； and bars； was burst open； and jerked off amongst the bystanders。
It was quite a scene。 A large crowd had assembled； and amongst them was Sir Walter Scott。 Recognising my father； he stood by him； while both awaited the ponderous crash。 Sir Walter was still the Great Unknown。 When his Heart of Midlothian was published in the course of the following year； it was pretty well known that he was the author of that fascinating novel。 Sir Waiter got the door and the key； as relics； for his house at Abbotsford。
There was a rush of people towards the iron chest to look into the dark interior of that veritable chamber of horrors。 My father's artist friend went forward with the rest； and endeavoured to pick up some remnant of the demolished structure。 As soon as the clouds of dust had been dispersed； he observed； under the place where the iron box
