And indeed, for a man who has been much tumbled round Orcadian skerries, what scene could be more agreeable to witness?
On such a day, the valley wears a surprising air of festival.
It seems (I do not know how else to put my meaning) as if it were a trifle too good to be true.

It is what Paris ought to be.

It has the scenic quality that would best set off a life of unthinking, open-air diversion.

It was meant by nature for the realisation of the society of comic operas.

And you can imagine, if the climate were but towardly, how all the world and his wife would flock into these gardens in the cool of the evening, to hear cheerful music, to sip pleasant drinks, to see the moon rise from behind Arthur's Seat and shine upon the spires and monuments and the green tree-tops in the valley.