From the upper square of the castle another side of the Palace can be examined, and from here can best be seen the corner statue of James V., disguised as “The Gudeman o’ Ballengeich.” The Parliament House, having been so much changed for the worse, is hardly worth regarding from this point of view; but the past can be recalled on the north side of the quadrangle, where stands the Chapel of James VI. Immediately after the re-erection of the building, that pillared doorway was thronged with a gay procession, pressing in to witness the baptism of baby Henry, the first-born son of the King of Scots. Great nobles of the kingdom as well as powerful lairds accompanied James and the foreign ambassadors into the sacred edifice; but the interior to-day has such a profaned appearance that even the most imaginative persons find it nearly impossible to picture to themselves the interesting religious ceremony. A number of years later, when James VI. returned from England to visit his native land, the Chapel was the scene of a long series of discourses, which the Regents or Professors of the Edinburgh College delivered to their sovereign in Latin and Greek. As the exterior of the building is almost precisely the same as it was when King James looked with pride upon it, so it is in the doorway again that the pedantic monarch can be summoned up as he slowly leaves the Chapel--where he had followed all the arguments--at the head of a company of courtiers and scholars. Now let the visitor proceed to the Douglas Garden, a name that conjures up a passionate monarch’s crime. The tall buildings overlooking the lawn do not contain the actual chamber where the Earl of Douglas supped with James II. Fire made away with most of the apartments in this interesting portion of the castle, but fortunately the little closet was spared where the King and his attendants stabbed the nobleman to death. There, above the old archway, it lies open to public view, and the window still exists through which the body was hurled after it had stained with blood the floor of the royal chamber. There is a grim fascination about that little room. The Earl of Douglas, the most powerful lord in Scotland, sat there and quietly but firmly refused to obey his sovereign’s command, till James of the Fiery Face grew hot with indignation and suddenly put an end to the career of his over-powerful subject. The scene as the corpse was flung through the window, while the King stood by half angry and half afraid, can vividly be brought to mind even although the small apartment is not in appearance exactly as it was in the middle of the fifteenth century.