and Indian monarchies, the single city of Athens produced a succession of great men, whose works have improved and delighted the world in every succeeding age. While the vast feudal monarchies of Europe were buried in ignorance and barbarism, the little states of Florence, Bologna, Rome, and Venice were far advanced in the career of arts and in the acquisition of knowledge; and at this moment, the traveller neglects the boundless but unknown tracts of Germany and France, to visit the tombs of Raphael, and Michael Angelo, and Tasso, to dwell in a country where every city and every landscape reminds him of the greatness of human genius, or the perfection of human taste. It is from the same cause that the earlier history of the Swiss republic exhibits a firmness and grandeur of political character which we search for in vain in the annals of the great monarchies by which they are surrounded, and that the classical pilgrim forgets the splendour of the Eternal city in his devotion to the spirit of its early republic; and sees not in the ruins which surround him the remains of imperial Rome, the mistress and the capital of the world; but of Rome, when struggling with Corioli and Veii; of Rome, when governed by Regulus and Cincinnatus and traces the scene of her infant wars with the Latian tribes, with a pious interest which all the pomp and magnificence of her subsequent history has not been able to excite.

Examples of this kind have often led historians to consider the situation of small republics as that of all others most adapted to the exaltation and improvement of mankind. To minds of an ardent and enthusiastic cast, who delight in the contemplation of human genius, or in the progress of public improvement, the brilliancy and splendour of such little states forms the most delightful of all objects; and accordingly, the greatest of living historians, in his history of the Italian republics, has expressed a decided opinion that in no other situation is such scope afforded to the expansion of the human mind, or such facility afforded to the progressive improvement of our species.

On the other hand, it is not to be concealed, that such little dynasties are accompanied by many circumstan

ces of continued and aggravated distress. Their small dimensions, and the jealousies which subsist betwixt them, not only furnish the subject of continual disputes, but aggravate to an incredible degree the miseries and devastations of war. Between such states, it is not conducted with the dignity and in the spirit which characterises the efforts of great monarchies, but rather with the asperity and rancour which belongs to a civil contest. While the frontiers only of a great monarchy suffer from the calamities of war, its devastations extend to the very heart of smaller states. Insecurity and instability frequently mark the internal state of these republics; and the activity which the historian admires in their citizens, is too often employed in mutually destroying and pillaging each other, or in disturbing the tranquillity of the state. It is hence that the sunny slopes of the Appenines are everywhere crowned by castellated villages, indicating the universality of the ravages of war among the Italian States in former times; and that the architecture of Florence and Genoa still bears the character of that massy strength which befitted the period when every noble palace was an independent fortress, and when war, tumult, and violence, reigned for centuries within their walls; while the open villages and straggling cottages of England bespeak the security with which her peasants have reposed under the shadow of her redoubted power.

The universality of this fact has led many wise and good men to regard small states as the prolific source of human suffering; and to conclude that all the splendour, whether in arts or in science, with which they are surrounded, is dearly bought at the expence of the peace and tranquillity of the great body of the people. To such men it appears, that the periods of history on which the historian dwells, or which have been marked by extraordinary genius, are not those in which the greatest public happiness has been enjoyed; but that it is to be found rather under the quiet and inglorious government of a great and pacific empire.

Without pretending to determine which of these opinions is the best founded, it is more important for our present purpose to observe, that the

union of the three kingdoms promises to combine for this country the advantages of both these forms of government without the evils to which either is exposed. While her insular situation, and the union and energy of her people, secure for Great Britain peace and tranquillity within her own bounds, the rivalry of the different nations of whom the empire is composed, promises, if properly directed, to animate her people with the ardour and enterprise which have hitherto been supposed to spring only from the collision of smaller states.

Towards the accomplishment of this most desirable object, however, it is indispensible that each nation should preserve the remembrance of its own distinct origin, and look to the glory of its own people, with an anxious and peculiar care. It is quite right that the Scotch should glory with their aged sovereign in the name of Britain: and that, when considered with reference to foreign states, Britain should exhibit an united whole, intent only upon upholding and extending the glory of that empire which her united forces have formed. But it is equally indisputable that her ancient metropolis should not degenerate into a provincial town; and that an independent nation, once the rival of England, should remember, with pride, the peculiar glories by which her people have been distinguished. Without this, the whole good effects of the rivalry of the two nations will be entirely lost; and the genius of her different people, in place of emulating and improving each other, will be drawn into one centre, where all that is original and characteristic will be lost in the overwhelming influence of prejudice and fashion.

Such an event would be an incalculable calamity to the metropolis, and to the genius of this country. It is this catastrophe which Fletcher of Salton so eloquently foretold, when he opposed the union with England in the Scottish Parliament. Edinburgh would then become like Lyons, or Toulouse, or Venice, a provincial town, supported only by the occasional influx of the gentlemen in its neighbourhood, and the courts of law which have their seat within its walls. The city and the nation which have produced David Hume, and Adam Smith, and Robert Burns, and Henry

Mackenzie, and Walter Scott, would cease to exist; and the traveller would repair to her classical scenes, as he now does to Venice or Ferrara, to lament the decay of human genius which follows the union of independent states.

Nor would such an event be less injurious to the general progress of science and arts throughout the empire. It is impossible to doubt, that the circumstance of Scotland being a separate kingdom, and maintaining a rivalship with England, has done incalculable good to both countriesthat it has given rise to a succession of great men, whose labours have enlightened and improved mankind, who would not otherwise have acted upon the career of knowledge. Who can say what would have been the present condition of England in philosophy or science, if she had not been stimulated by the splendid progress which Scotland was making? and who can calculate the encouragement which Scottish genius has derived from the generous applause which England has always lavished upon her works? As Scotchmen, we rejoice in the exaltation and eminence of our own country; but we rejoice not less sincerely in the literary celebrity of our sister kingdom; not only from the interest which, as citizens of the united empire, we feel in the celebrity of any of its members, but as affording the secret pledges of the continued and progressive splendour of our own country.

It is impossible, however, to contemplate the effects of the union of the two kingdoms, from which this country has derived such incalculable benefits in its national wealth and domestic industry, without perceiving that in time, at least, a corresponding decay may take place in its literary and philosophic acquirements. There are few examples in the history of mankind, of an independent kingdom being incorporated with another of greater magnitude, without losing, in process of time, the national eminence, whether in arts or in arms, to which it had arrived. A rare succession of great men in our universities, indeed, and an extraordinary combination of talents in the works of imagination, has hitherto prevented this effect from taking place. But who can insure a continuance of men of such extraordinary genius, to keep

alive the torch of science in our northern regions? Is it not to be apprehended that the attractions of wealth, of power, and of fashion, which have so long drawn our nobles and higher classes to the seat of government, may, ere long, exercise a similar influence upon our national genius, and that the melancholy catastrophe which Fletcher of Salton described, with all its fatal consequences, may be, even now, approaching to its accomplishment?

Whatever can arrest this lamentable progress, and fix down, in a permanent manner, the genius of Scotland to its own shores, confers not only an incalculable benefit upon this country, but upon the united empire of which it forms a part. The erection of the National Monument in Edinburgh, seems calculated, in a most remarkable manner, to accomplish this most desirable object.

To those, indeed, who have not been in the habit of attending to the influence of animating recollections upon the developement of every thing that is great or generous in human character, it may appear that the effects we anticipate from this building, are visionary and chimerical. But when a train is ready laid, a spark will set it in flames. The Scotch have always been a proud and an ardent people; and the spirit which animated their forefathers, in this respect, is not yet extinct. Upon a people so disposed, it is difficult to estimate the effects which a splendid edifice, filled with monuments to the greatest men whom the country can boast, may ultimately produce. It will give stability and consistence to the national pride, a feeling which, when properly directed, is the surest foundation of national eminence. It will perpetuate the remembrance of the brave and independent Scottish nation-a feeling, of all others, the best suited to animate the exertions of her remotest descendants. It will teach her inhabitants to look to their own country for the scene of their real glory; and while Ireland laments the absence of a nobility insensible to her fame, it will be the boast of this country, to have erected on her own shores, a monument worthy of her people's glory, and to have disdained to follow merely the triumphs of that nation, whose ancestors they have ere now vanquished in the field.

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Who has not felt the sublime impression which the interior of Westminster Abbey produces, where the poets, the philosophers, and the statesmen of England, sleep with her kings, and dignify the scene?" Who has viewed the church of St Crocè at Florence, and seen the tombs of Galileo, and Machiavelli, and Michael Angelo, and Alfieri, under one sacred roof, without feeling their hearts swell with the remembrance of her ancient glory; and, among the multitudes who will visit the sacred pile that is to perpetuate the memory of Scottish greatness, how many may there be whom so sublime a spectacle may rouse to a sense of their native powers, and animate with the pride of their country's renown; and in whom the remembrance of the "illustrious of ancient days" may awaken the noble feeling of Correggio, when he contemplated the works of the Roman masters; "I too am a Painter."

Nor do we think that such a monument could produce effects of less importance upon the military character and martial spirit of the Scottish people in future ages. The memory of the glorious achievements of our age, indeed, will never die, and the page of history will perpetuate, to the higher orders, the recollection of the events which have cast so unrivalled a splendour over the British nation, in the commencement of the nineteenth century. But the study of history is confined to few, comparatively speaking, of the population of a country; and the knowledge which it imparts can never extend universally to the poorer class, from whom the materials of an army are to be drawn. In the ruder and earlier periods of society, indeed, the traditions of warlike events are preserved for a series of years, by the romantic ballads, which are che rished by a simple and primitive people. The nature of the occupations in which they are principally engaged, is favourable to the preservation of such heroic recollections. But in the state of society in which we live, it is impossible that the record of past events can be thus engraven on the hearts of a nation. The uniformity of employments in which the lower orders are engaged-the severe and unremitting toil to which they are exposed-the division of labour which fixes them down to one limited and

unchanging occupation, all contribute to destroy those ancient traditions, on the preservation of which so much of the martial spirit of a people depends. The peasantry in the remoter parts of Scotland can still recount some of the exploits, and dwell with enthusiasm on the adventures of Bruce or Wallace; but you will search in vain among the English poor for any record of the victories of Cressy or Azincour, of Blenheim or Ramillies. And even among the higher orders, the experience of every day is sufficient to convince us that the remembrance of ancient glory, though not forgotten, may cease to possess any material influence on the character of our people. The historian, indeed, may recount the glorious victories of Vittoria, Trafalgar, and Waterloo; and their names may be familiar to every ear; but the name may be remembered when the heart-stirring spirit which they should awaken is no longer felt. For a time, and during the lifetime of the persons who were distinguished in these events, they form a leading subject of the public attention; but when a new generation succeeds, and new cares and fashions and events occupy the attention of the nation, the practical effects of these triumphs is lost, how indelibly soever they may be recorded in the pages of history. The victories of Poictiers, and Blenheim, and Minden had long ago demonstrated the superiority of the English over the French troops; but though this fact appeared unquestionable to those who studied the history of past events, every body knows with what serious apprehension a French invasion was contemplated in this country, within our own recollection.

It is of incalculable importance, therefore, that some means should be taken to preserve alive the martial spirit which the recent triumphs have awakened; and to do this, in so prominent a way as may attract the attention of the most thoughtless, and force them on the observation of the most inconsiderate. It is from men of this description-from the young, the gay, and the active, that our armies are filled; and it is on the spirit with which they are animated that the national safety depends. Unless they are impressed with the recollection of past achievements, and a sense of the glo

ries of that country which they are to defend, it will little avail us in the moment of danger, that the victories on which every one now dwells with exultation, are faithfully recorded in history, and well known to the sedentary and pacific part of our population.

It is upon the preservation of this spirit that the safety of every nation must depend.-It is in vain that it may be encircled with fortresses, or defended by mountains, or begirt by the ocean; its real security is to be found in the spirit and the valour of its people. The army which enters the field in the conviction that it is to conquer, has already gained the day. The people, who recollect with pride the achievements of their forefathers, will not prove unworthy of them in the field of battle. The remembrance of their heroic actions preserved the independence of the Swiss republics, amidst the powerful empires by which they were surrounded; and the glory of her armies joined to the terror of her name, upheld the Roman empires for centuries after the warlike spirit of the people was extinct. It is this which constitutes the strength and multiplies the triumphs of veteran soldiers; and it is this which renders the qualities of military valour and prowess hereditary in a nation.

Every people, accordingly, whose achievements are memorable in past history, have felt the influence of these national recollections, and received them as the most valuable inheritance from their forefathers. The statesmen of Athens, when they wished to rouse that fickle people to any great or heroic action, reminded them of the national glory of their ancestors, and pointed to the acropolis crowned with the monuments of their valour; and invoked the shades of those who died at Marathon and Plataea, to sanctify the cause in which they were to be engaged. The Swiss peasants, for five hundred years after the establishment of their independence, assembled on the fields of Morgarten and Laupen, and spread garlands over the graves of the fallen warriors, and prayed for the souls of those who had died for their country's freedom. The Romans attached a superstitious reverence to the rock of the capitol, and loaded its temples with the spoils of the world, and looked back with a mixture of