I48 OLD AND NEW EDINBURGH. rportobeiio.
angles from this Parade there was constructed in
1871 a very handsome promenade iron pier, 1,250
feet long, at a cost of L7,ooo ; and in the following
year a fine bowling-green was formed in Lee Crescent,
off Brighton Place, measuring 40 yards by
45 ; and a roller skating-rink was opened in Bath
Street in 1876, comprising a hall-rink, an out-door
rink, a gallery or orchestra, and retiring-room.
In Portobello are to be found quarters for all
classes of visitors and summer residents. ? Many
A house in Tower Street was the residence of
Hugh Miller-that self-taught and self-made Scottish
genius, author of ?? The Old Red Sandstone,?
and other geological works, with lighter productions,
such as ?? My Schools and Schoolmasters ; ??
and there, worn out by the ovenvork of a highly
sensitive brain, he shot himself with a revolver in
1856. The event caused great excitement in
Edinburgh, and his funeral was a vast and solemn
one. ?You should have been in Edinburgh toof
the private houses,? says a recent writer,
?? the mansions and villas, are the homes of capitalists
and annuitants, who have adopted Portobello
as their constant retreat, and who people it in sufficient
numbers to give its resident or unshifting
population a tone of selectness and elegance. In
winter the town is far from having the forsaken and
wan aspect which pervades a mere seabathing
station ; and in summer it has an animation and
gaiety superior to those of any other sea-bathing
station in Scotland.? In 1839 a valuable oysterbed
was discovered off the town.
The Town Hall, with the Council Chambers and
offices of the Commissioners of Police, is a handsome
building in the principal thoroughfare,
JOCK?S LODGE.
day,? wrote Sydney Dobell to a friend, ?and seen
the great army of the body that debouched inexhaustibly
through all its main streets-a waving
parti-coloured river, where a fallen child or a blind
beggar made an instant mob, as in a stream at
flood so much as a walking-stick set straight will
make an eddy. It was curious to walk up the
same streetson Monday, as I walked often past Hugh
Miller?s house, and to think what different causes
could produce the same ?pomp and circumstance?
of populous life. Never since the death of Chalmers
has Edinburgh been so unanimous in honour.
Even Christopher North?s funeral was sectarial and
cold in comparison. The shops were shut j the
common people drew back in thick masses on each
