armies of England and Scotland for merly met at Flodden or Bannockburn, have now yielded to the emulation and friendship which form the surest basis of their common prosperity.

But it is of the last importance that these feelings of national rivalry should not be extinguished. In every part of the world the good effects of this emulation have been experienced. It is recorded, that at the seige of Namur, when the German troops were repulsed from the breach, king William ordered his English guards to advance; and the veteran warrior was so much affected with the devoted gallantry with which they pressed on to the assault, that, bursting into tears, he exclaimed, "See how my brave English fight." At the storm of Bhurtpoor, when one of the British regiments was forced back by the dreadful fire that played on the beach, one of the native regiments was ordered to advance, and these brave men cheered as they passed the British troops, who lay trembling in the trenches. Every body knows the distinguished gallantry with which the Scottish regiments, in all the actions of the present war, have sought to maintain their ancient reputation; and it is not to be forgotten, that the first occasion on which the Cuirassiers of France were broken, was when the leading regiments of England, Scotland, and Ireland, bore down with rival valour on their columns; and in the enthusiastic cry of the Greys, "Scotland for ever," we may perceive the value of those national recollections which it is the object of the present edifice to reward and perpetuate.

If this spirit shall live in her armies; if the rival valour which was formerly excited in their fatal wars against each other, shall thus continue to animate them when fighting against their common enemies, and if the remembrance of former division is preserved only to cement the bond of present union, England and Scotland may well, like the Douglas and Percy both together "be confident against the world in

arms."

Foreign foe or false beguiling,
Shall our union ne'er divide,
Hand in hand, while peace is smiling,
And in battle side by side.

Before concluding, we cannot avoid saying a few words on the design VOL. V.

which should be followed in this national edifice, and the influence which the adoption of a perfect model is fitted to have on the national taste.

There is no fact more certain than that a due appreciation of the grand or the beautiful in architectural design, is not inherent in any individual or in any people; and that towards the formation of a correct public taste, the existence of fine models is absolutely essential. It is this which gives men who have travelled in Italy or Greece so evident a superiority in considering the merits of the works of art in this country over those who have not had similar advantages; and it is this which renders taste hereditary among a people who have the models of ancient excellence continually before their eyes. The taste of Athens continued to distinguish its people long after they had ceased to be remarkable for any other and more honourable quality; and Rome itself, in the days of its imperial splendour, was compelled to borrow from a people whom she had vanquished, the trophies by which her victories were to be commemorated. To this day the lovers of art flock from the most distant parts of the world to the Acropolis, and dwell with rapture on its unrivalled beauties, and seek to inhale, amid the ruins that surround them, a portion of the spirit by which they were conceived. The remains of ancient Rome still serve as the model of every thing that is great in the designs of modern architects; and in the Parthenon and the Colisseum we find the originals on which the dome of St Peters and the piazza St Marco have been formed. It is a matter of general observation, accordingly, that the inhabitants of Italy possess a degree of taste both in sculpture, architecture, and painting, which few persons of the most cultivated understanding in transalpine countries can acquire. So true it is, that the existence of fine models lays the only foundation of a correct public taste; and that the transference of the model of ancient excellence to this country is the only means of giving to our people the taste by which similar. excellence is to be produced.

Now it has unfortunately happened that the Doric architecture, to which so much of the beauty of Greece and Italy is owing, has been hitherto little understood, and still less put in prac3 C

classical history; and it recalls the brilliant conceptions of national glory as they were received during the ardent and enthusiastic period of youth; while its stern and massy form befits an edifice destined to commemorate the severe virtues and manly character of war. The effect of such a building, and the influence it would have on the public taste, would be increased to an indefinite degree, by the interest of the purpose to which it is destined. An edifice which recalled at once the interest of classical association, and commemorated the splendour of our own achievements, would impress itself in the most indelible manner on the public mind, and force the beauty of its design on the most careless observer. And there can be no doubt that this impression would be far greater, just because it arose from a style of building hitherto unknown in this country, and produced an effect as dissimilar from that of any other architectural design, as the national emotions which it is intended to awaken are from those to which ordinary edifices are destined.

We cannot help considering this as a matter of great importance to this city, and to the taste of the age in which we live. It is no inconsiderable matter to have one building of faultless design erected, and to have the youth of our people accustomed from their infancy to behold the work of Phidias. But the ultimate effect which such a circumstance might produce on the taste of the nation, and the celebrity of this metropolis, is far more important. It is in vain to conceal, that the wealth and the fashion of England is every day attracting the higher part of our society to another capital; and that Edinburgh can never possess attractions of the same description with London, sufficient to enable her to stand an instant in the struggle. But while London must always eclipse this city in all that depends on wealth, power, or fashionable elegance, nature has given to it the means of establishing a superiority of a higher and a more permanent kind. The matchless beauty of its situation, the superb cliffs by which it is surrounded, the magnificent prospects of the bay, which it commands, have given to Edinburgh the means of becoming the most beautiful town that exists in the world. And the inexhaustible quarries of free

stone, which lie in the immediate vicinity, have rendered architectural embellishment an easier object in this city than in any other in the empire. It cannot be denied, however, that much still remains to be done in this respect, and that every stranger observes the striking contrast between the beauty of its private houses, and the deplorable scantiness of its public buildings. The establishment of a taste for edifices of an ornamental description, and the gradual purification of the popular taste, which may fairly be expected from the influence of so perfect a model as the Parthenon of Athens, would ultimately, in all probability, render this city the favourite residence of the fine arts; the spot to which strangers would resort, both as the place where the rules of taste are to be studied, and the models of art are to be found. And thus, while London is the Rome of the empire, to which the young, and the ambitious, and the gay, resort for the pursuit of pleasure, of fortune, or of ambition, Edinburgh might become another Athens, in which the arts and the sciences flourished, under the shade of her ancient fame, and established a dominion over the minds of men more permanent than even that which the Roman arms were able to effect.

Should the Parthenon be finally fixed on as the model for the national monument, it seems hardly necessary to hint at the situation in which it ought to be placed. It is observed by Clarke, that of all the cities which he had visited during his extensive travels, Edinburgh bears the closest resemblance to the cities of ancient Greece. Its position on a rock, in the middle of a fertile and champagne country; the vicinity of the sea, and the disposition of the town at the base of the fortress, resemble in the most striking manner the situation of Corinth, Athens, Argos, and most of the Grecian capitals. To make the resemblance complete, he adds, it is only necessary to have a temple of great dimensions placed on the Calton Hill; and such an edifice, seen from all quarters, and forming an object in every landscape, would give a classical air to that beautiful city of which the value cannot easily be conceived. We are thoroughly persuaded, that the erection of the Parthenon on the Calton Hill would do more to add to the

beauty of Edinburgh, than a million laid out in any other situation.

The Greeks always fixed on an eminence for the situation of their temples, and whatever was the practice of a people of such exquisite taste is well worthy of imitation. The Acropolis of Athens, the Acrocorinthus of Corinth, the temple of Jupiter Panhellenius in Eginâ, are instances of the beauty of these edifices when placed on such conspicuous situations. At Athens in particular, the Temple of Jupiter Olympius and of Theseus are situated in the plain; but although the former is built in a style of magnificence to which there is no parallel, and is double the size of the Parthenon, its effect is infinitely less striking than that of the temple of Minerva, which crowns the Acropolis, and meets the eye from every part of the adjacent country. The Temple of Jupiter Panhellenius, in the island of Egina, is neither so large nor so beautiful as the Temple of Theseus; but there is no one who ever thought of comparing the effect which the former produces crowning a rich and wooded hill, to that which is felt on viewing the latter standing in the plain of Attica. The Temple of Neptune, at Pestum, has a sublime effect from the desolation that surrounds it, and from the circumstance of there being no eminence for many miles to interfere with its stern and venerable form; but there is no one who must not have felt that the grandeur of this edifice would be entirely lost if it was placed in a modern city, and overtopped by buildings destined for the most ordinary purposes. The Temple of Vesta, at Tivoli, perched on the crag which overhangs the cataract, is admired by all the world; but the temple to the same goddess, on the banks of the Tiber at Rome, is passed over without notice, though the intrinsic beauty of the one is nearly as great as that of the other. To come nearer home, the Temple of St Bernard's Well is perhaps nearly as beautiful a building as the observatory on the Calton Hill, but no one we believe ever thought of comparing the delight experienced by the sight of the one to that which the other produces; and the county rooms are built precisely, so far as the columns go, on the model of the Erych theum at Athens; but no one who

has seen these columns only in their present situation, overtopped by the lofty piles by which they are surrounded, could conceive the beauty of the originals, standing on the rock of the Acropolis, and gilded by the rays of an Athenian sun.

In the landscapes too of Claude and Poussin, who knew so well the situation in which every building appears to most advantage, the ruins of temples are almost always placed on prominent fronts, or on the summit of small hills; in such a situation, in short, as the Calton Hill presents. The practice of the ancient Greeks, in the choice of situations for their temples, joined to that of the modern Italian painters in their ideal representations of the same objects, leaving no room to doubt that the course which they followed was that which the peculiar nature of the building requir ed.

If it shall be said that the Calton Hill would be too crowded, and that there is not sufficient room for the observatory and such a temple as has now been proposed, the answer is, that on the Acropolis of Athens, which has been admired for two thousand years, the temples are much more crowded, and in particular that the Erychtheum bears nearly the same proportion to the Parthenon which the observatory would do to the proposed edifice. If the monument to Lord Nelson is an obstacle to such a building, nothing would be easier than to pull it down and build up another in some other situation more worthy of the hero to whom it is consecrated, and more consonant to the public taste, which has improved so remarkably since it was built. The expense of such a proceeding would not be a fourth part of the cost of the ground in any other central situation in the city.

It is difficult to estimate the addition which the Parthenon, if placed on the rock where Nelson's Monument now stands, would make to the beauty of Edinburgh. To a stranger who enters the city from the London Road, it would be the most splendid of all objects, both in approaching the eastern slope of the Calton Hill, and crowning the superb cliff that overhangs the road immediately before you enter Waterloo place. From the North Bridge it would rise in une

qualled majesty above the other edifices with which the southern front of the Calton Hill is covered; and give the last finish to that romantic group of towers, rocks, and castellated buildings, which are collected on that interesting spot. From Prince's Street it would form the appropriate background to the magnificent vista of Waterloo Place, and exhibit at the close of that beautiful Grecian Street the most splendid of Grecian triumphal edifices. From every side it would give a classical air to the scenery in

In his Essay on English Poetry, Mr Campbell has found fault with Mr Bowles for certain alledged observations on the genius and moral character of Pope. Mr Bowles feels himself rather unfairly dealt with by the distinguished Critic, and in a very temperate and manly letter has pointed out his unintentional misrepresentations. It is always to be lamented when any misunderstanding takes place between men of genius,-more especially with regard to those subjects dearest to their hearts, and on which it is natural to believe their opinions would perfectly harmonize, were they fully and clearly expressed.

Mr

Bowles is evidently much hurt at being held up by so high an authority as Mr Campbell as an unfair and unphilosophical critic on the genius of a poet whom it has lately been the vulgar fashion to decry, and we think he has done perfectly right in thus publicly vindicating himself from such a charge. It must have been unpleasant enough to Mr Bowles to hear this most unfounded charge against him widely circulated by the Edinburgh Review-and chanted by so many mocking birds from all the shrub beries of criticism,—but while it would have been beneath his dignity to notice the abuse of those whose professed trade," he says, " is misrepresentation," it would have shewn either a consciousness of its truth or an indifference to its falsehood, to

have remained silent when such an accusation was repeated or echoed by one of the greatest poets of the age. We think that Mr Campbell, though one of the fairest and most generous of critics, has altogether misconceived the scope and tendency of Mr Bowles's observations, and that this may be put in a clear light in a very few words.

Mr Bowles courteously but plainly tells Mr Campbell, that he could not have read his criticism on Pope, except in the pages of the Edinburgh Review where it is so grossly misrepresented, and therefore he gives it, verbatim, as follows:

"All images drawn from what is BEAUTIFUL or SUBLIME in the WORKS of NATURE, are MORE beautiful and sublime than images drawn from art, and are therefore more poetical. In like manner, those PASSIONS of the HUMAN HEART which belong to nature in general, are, per se, more adapted to the HIGHER SPECIES of poetry than those which are derived from incidental and transient manners.'

"The reader will instantly perceive, that these propositions are connected and consecutive; and to prevent the possibility of their being understood otherwise, I added, as illustrations, the following instances, equally connected and consecutive.

66

A description of a forest is more poetical than a cultivated garden; and the passions which are pourtrayed in the EPIS TLE OF ELOISA, render such a poem more poetical, (whatever might be the difference of merit in point of composition) intrinsically more poetical, than a poem founded on the characters, incidents, and modes of