The Old Greyfriars' churchyard was in perfection that morning, and one could go round and reckon up the associations with no fear of vulgar interruption.
On this stone the Covenant was signed.

In that vault, as the story goes, John Knox took hiding in some Reformation broil.

From that window Burke the murderer looked out many a time across the tombs, and perhaps o' nights let himself down over the sill to rob some new-made grave.
Certainly he would have a selection here.

The very walks have been carried over forgotten resting-places; and the whole ground is uneven, because (as I was once quaintly told) 'when the wood rots it stands to reason the soil should fall in,' which, from the law of gravitation, is certainly beyond denial.

But it is round the boundary that there are the finest tombs.