every thing was fine about her; it was nothing but driving about and visiting and feasting. Life was to her a perpetual revel; it was one long Lord Mayor's day. "Two daughters succeeded to this goodly couple. They certainly were handsome; but there was a supercilious air that chilled admiration, and disposed the spectator to be critical. They were ultra-fashionable in dress; and though no one could deny the richness of their decorations, yet their ap propriateness might be questioned amidst the simplicity of a country church. They descended loftily from the carriage, and moved up the line of peasantry with a step that seemed dainty of the soil it trod on. They cast an excursive glance around, that passed coldly over the lively faces of the peasantry, until they met the eyes of the nobleman's family, when their countenances immediately brightened inte smiles, and they made the most profound and elegant courtesies, which were returned in a manner that showed they were but slight acquaintances.

"I must not forget the two sons of this aspiring citizen, who came to church in a dashing curricle, with two outriders. They were arrayed in the extremity of the mode, with all that pedantry of dress which marks the man of questionable pretensions to style.

"They kept entirely by themselves, eyeing every one askance that came near them, as if measuring his claims to respectability; yet they were without conversation, except the exchange of an occasional cant phrase. They even moved artificially, for their bodies, in compliance with the caprice of the day, had been disciplined into the absence of all ease and freedom. Art had done every thing to accomplish them as men of fashion, but nature had denied them the nameless grace. They were vulgarly shaped, like men formed for the common purposes of life, and had that air of supercilious assumption which is never seen in the true gentleman.

"I have been rather minute in drawing the character of these two families, because I considered them specimens of what is often to be met with in this country-the unpretending great, and the arrogant little. I have no respect for titled rank, unless it be accompanied by true nobility of soul; but I have remarked, in all countries where these artificial distinctions exist, the very highest classes are always the most courteous and unassuming. Those who are well assured of their own standing are least apt to trespass on that of others; whereas nothing is so offensive as the aspiring of vulgarity, which thinks to elevate itself by humiliating

VOL. VI.

its neighbour. As I have brought these families into contrast, I must notice their behaviour in church. That of the nobleman's family was quiet, serious, and attentive. Not that they appeared to have any fervour of devotion, but rather a respect for sacred things, and sacred places, inseparable from good breeding. The others, on the contrary, were in a perpetual flutter and whisper; they betrayed a continual consciousness of finery, and a sorry ambition of being the wonders of a rural congregation. "The old gentleman was the only one really attentive to the service. He took the whole burthen of family-devotion upon himself, stood bolt upright, and uttered the responses with a loud voice that might be heard all over the church. It was evident that he was one of those thorough church and kinsmen, who connect the idea of devotion and loyalty, who consider the Deity, somehow or other, of the government party and religion, a very excellent sort of thing, that ought to be countenanced and kept up.'

When he joined so loudly in the ser vice, it seemed more by way of example to the lower orders, to shew them, that though so great and wealthy, he was not above being religious; as I have seen a turtle fed alderman publicly swallow a basin of charity soup, smacking his lips at every mouthful, and pronouncing it excellent food for the poor."

The

"When the service was at an end, I was curious to witness the several exits of my groups. The young noblemen and their sisters, as the day was fine, preferred strolling home across the fields, chattering with the country people as they went. others departed as they came, in grand pa rade. Again were the equipages wheeled up to the gate. There was again the smacking of whips, the clattering of hoofs, and the glittering of harness. The horses started off almost at a bound; the villagers again hurried to right and left, the wheels threw up a cloud of dust, and the aspiring family was wrapt out of sight in a whirlwind."

Our limits prevent us from entering at present at greater length on the merits of Mr Irving; but in our next Number we propose returning to him, and giving our readers some account of his largest and most masterly work, the History of New York by Diedrick Knickerbocker, a singular production of genius, the existence of which is, we believe, almost entirely unknown on this side the Atlantic.

4 B

We observe, with sincere pleasure, that the foundation stone of Lord Melville's Monument is to be laid early in the following month; and it is generally understood, that the PILLAR of TRAJAN is to be the model of the structure. Before these pages issue from the Press, its site will probably be chosen and perhaps, therefore, the remarks which they contain, may be either unnecessary or too late to attain the object for which they are intended. Yet, as it is possible that these matters may not be finally decided on for some little time, and as it is at any rate of importance, that the principles which should regulate the choice of the situation of public edifices, should be generally understood, we shall make no apology for entering on the subject.

A more splendid and unexceptionable structure than the pillar of Trajan, could not be desired for any monument. It is its SITUATION which alone remains an object of doubt.

We have heard, that it is proposed by the Committee to erect it in the centre of Melville-street, at the point where it joins the street which runs northward from the middle of the Coat's Crescent;-and we know that ground for the purpose has been offered, with his wonted liberality, by the proprietor, Sir Patrick Walker. Being confident that the motives which led this gentleman to make this offer, were of the most disinterested kind; and that if it can be shewn, that the proposed edifice, as an object of public ornament, would be thrown away in that situation, he would be the first to relinquish the plan,—we address these observations as much to him as to the other distinguished persons who compose the Committee.

When an edifice, destined for public ornament, is to be erected, it is of the last importance that the situation should be in a prominent one, and as near as possible to the centre of the metropolis. Every body must be conscious that unless this is done, its beauty is in a great measure lost. Thousands, who never can be induced to go out of their way in search of what is admirable, are nevertheless impressed with its effect when it is brought be

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fore their eyes in a place of common resort: And if this applies to other edifices, most of all is it deserving of consideration in a monument to departed greatness, the very purpose of which is, not merely to testify our gratitude to the dead, but to serve as an incentive to the rising generation, to emulate the deeds by which their country has been ennobled. If such a building is buried in some obscure situation, its peculiar and distinctive objects are entirely sacrificed ;-for it neither testifies to the world in general, the gratitude of those who_raised it, nor is it likely to stimulate the unthinking multitude to acts of patriotic virtue. It is when it is placed in the public eye alone, and proudly brought forward, in the centre of common resort, that it becomes the worthy depository of a nation's gratitude, and the means of awakening the latent desire of distinction in the breast of some of those whom nature has gifted with the means of obtaining it.

Every nation, accordingly, has felt the truth of this observation. It was in the Roman Forum, and in the very centre of common resort, that that magnanimous people raised the temples which were to testify their gratitude to the gods, and the monuments which were to be the emblem of their admiration of man.

When Titus returned from the conquest of Jerusalem, it was at the entrance of the Forum that his triumphal arch was raised: when Trajan brought the captives of Scythia and India to the Roman capital, it was in the centre of the adjoining Forum, which bears his name, that his glorious column was constructed and even in the decay of the empire, when Constantine meditated the removal of the capital to the shores of the Euxine, he still placed his arch in the same vicinity, and gloried in covering with the monument of his trophies, part of that sacred way, where the triumphs of a thousand years had passed. It was round the Forum of Venice, and in the centre of universal gayety and concourse, that the Lion of St Mark was placed, and that the trophies, of Constantinople, of Athens, and of Jerusalem, were accumulated by

the prowess of the Imperial Republic. No one understood better the influence of such monuments on the public mind, than Bonaparte; and accordingly, all his meditated triumphal edifices were assembled within a narrow space, in the most ornamental part of the city.

Nor is it less essential as a matter of mere beauty, and as conducive to public ornament alone, that ornamental edifices, of whatever description, should be brought as nearly as possible together, and placed in the most conspicuous place of the metropolis. In natural scenery, indeed, the eye of taste is delighted by the discovery of beauties lurking in some unseen spot; and frequently an impression is produced by such sequestered charms, which the same objects, placed in a conspicuous eminence, would be incapable of effecting. But this is wholly inapplicable to works of architectural ornament. Such edifices, when placed in a city at least, are felt to be unsuitable but for places of public resort.Being the work of man, and the greatest triumph of human art, they are fitly placed in the scene of business, of festivity, and amusement. A feel ing of disappointment is experienced when we find some beautiful edifice buried in an obscure situation, similar to what would be felt if a brilliant jewel, instead of adorning the brow of grace and beauty, were to be buried under the folds, or concealed by the least ornamental part of her drapery.

Not only, too, are such ornamental edifices wholly lost, as a means of public ornament, when their situation is unhappily chosen, but their individual beauty is destroyed by the same circumstance. No one can have visited the various beautiful buildings which are buried in the smoke, or lost among the narrow streets of London, without having felt the force of this observation. Were these edifices brought into public view, and forced on the public eye as in the place Louis XV. of Paris, they would be esteemed not unworthy of the metropolis of England. And if we require a confirmation of so obvious a truth, we have only to go to the High Street of Edinburgh, where even the beautiful pillars of Athenian Doric lose their effect under the chilling influence of the surrounding buildings.

It is a matter, too, of the greatest moment, in arranging edifices for the present or future ornament of a city, to have them so combined as to form, if possible, some one splendid whole; the attractions of which may withdraw the attention from objects of subordinate or minor interest, and the magnificence of which may produce an indelible impression on the mind of the spectator. If any one be asked if Paris, or Venice, or Rome, be splendid cities, he will immediately answer in the affirmative; but if the recollection of these different capitals be more minutely examined, it will be found that it is the recollection of some one glorious scene in them which has fixed itself in the mind, and, by its brilliancy, communicated a splendid colouring to the whole city of which it forms a part. It is the place Louis XV. at Paris which recurs to the mind of the traveller when he thinks of that celebrated capital; it is the beauty of the gardens of the Thuilleries, of the bridges of the Seine, of the matchless colonnade, and other edifices, which are there assembled, which imprints so fine a character on the whole metropolis. It is the Piazza St Marco, which identifies itself with the recollection of the capital of Venice; and the mind, forgetting the narrow lanes and muddy canals of that singular city, dwells only on the gorgeous magnificence of its pillared scenery, and sees, even after the lapse of years, with all the intenseness of present enjoyment, the Moorish domes, and granite columns, and marble palaces, which give the air of enchantment to that unrivalled spot. It is the Roman forum which has imprinted itself on the memory of all who have visited that ancient capital; it is the venerable sight of the Capitol and the Colysium, the arch of Severus and the temple of Antonine, the palace of the Caesars and the pillars of the senate-house, combined in one landscape, which banishes the recollection of all the deformities with which the modern city is filled. The magnificence of Genoa has, for centuries, been matter of proverbial remark; but those who are acquainted with that city know, that it is to the splendour of a few streets alone, where all the grandeur of the city is combined, that its proud appellation of Genova la superba has been owing,

The Irish justly pride themselves on the beauty of their metropolis; but it is, perhaps, as much to the fortunate combination of circumstances which have brought the Bank, the University, the Post-Office, the pillar of Nelson, and the Custom-House, so near to each other in the centre of this city, as to the elegance of these edifices themselves, that this effect is owing. No one has visited Athens without feeling the imposing effect which the combination of ruined magnificence on the Acropolis produces; an effect greater than any single edifice, however perfect, could possibly occasion; and, notwithstanding the stately buildings which adorn our own metropolis, it is certainly more to the happy nature of their situation, which bring them all into view at once from the Calton Hill, than to their intrinsic excellence, that its well known celebrity is to be ascribed.

Proceeding, therefore, on the principles which experience has proved to be well founded in other cities, it is of the utmost moment to combine, as much as possible, the ornamental edifices of Edinburgh into one centre; and to aid the natural effect of its situation, by assembling, into one view, all that the public spirit of its citizens can produce of the beautiful in architectural design. This object, momentous in every city, is more especially so in this, from the straggling form which the town is every day assuming, and the great width of all the new streets, which threatens, in a short time, to deprive it of the character of a populous and great metropolis. There is no man of taste, who has ever seen the view from the Calton Hill, who has not lamented the wide gap which lies between the Old and New Town. And it is on this account that the new buildings on the North Bridge, though by no means unexceptionable in themselves, have been so often considered by men of the most approved judgment, as a decided improvement to the picturesque effect of the city. For the same reason, the proposed structure on the Mound, if done with taste, and not suffered to rise too high, will add greatly to its beauty. But with a view to correct this obvious defect, and concentrate, as much as possible, the effect of our ornamental edifices, it is absolutely necessary that those which are destin

ed to the purpose of pure ornament should, as much as possible, be brought together. And if this be true in ge neral, of none may it so truly be said as of the proposed Monument to Lord Melville, which is of a kind to form one of the most splendid objects in any combination of architectural scenery.

Now the proposed situation of this Monument, in the centre of Melvillestreet, though doubtless striking with reference to that single street, appears to be eminently defective with a view to the general embellishment of the city. It can never be seen from any of the principal streets in the New town, on account of the vast mass of St George's, which lies so directly in its front. Its summit will merely be discernible at a great distance, from the Calton hill. A few outside passengers, in the Mail coach going to Glasgow or Aberdeen, may get a glimpse of it as they drive past Melville-street or the Coats Crescent, but the inhabitants in general will have no opportunity of enjoying its beauties; and the strangers who visit our metropolis will, not improbably, in many instances at least, take their departure without knowing even of its existence. And thus, while the level and monotonous streets of the New Town are universally observed to require some elevated buildings to vary their outline, will one of the noblest pillars in the world be thrown away in a situation, where it is incapable of affording that relief, which, in its immediate neighbourhood, is so grievously required.

This is on the supposition that the proposed streets round Melville-street are all completed, and the town, in that quarter, entirely finished: but every body knows that this is very far from being likely; that the tendency of the city to extend in the direction of Leith Walk, has been long observed; and the proposed edifices on the Calton Hill, with the matchless advantages which the houses on its northern side will possess, must, in all probability, determine the propensity. If this be the case, the ultimate completion of Melville-street must be postponed, in the most favourable view, for a very long period. How unfortunate, then, would it be, if this noble Monument were to be placed in a situation where, during a great many years at least, it will be

surrounded only with rubbish, and mason's sheds, and stone quarries, amongst half-finished streets and empty houses? And yet, that such will be the case, is rendered highly probable by the difficulty which several proprietors in Melville-street, who wish to dispose of their houses, have, for many years past, experienced in finding purchasers.

The subscribers to this splendid undertaking will doubtless be anxious that the work, which they have promoted with such praise-worthy spirit, should be placed in some central and conspicuous spot, where it may testify, in a public manner, the gratitude and patriotic feeling of those who raised it. The friends of the eminent Statesman, whose departed worth it is intended to commemorate, and whose invaluable services in the navy have so long and universally been acknowledged, will look, with anxious hope, to the choice of a site where his mo nument is to be raised. How grievously will both be disappointed, if, in place of finding it in a proud and conspicuous situation, in the centre of that metropolis which gave him birth, they find it buried behind St George's church, and raising its graceful form in a situation where no eye of taste can see it, and no patriotic heart be warmed by the recollections which it should awaken!

These considerations are so obvious, that they must have forced themselves on every one's thoughts who has attended for a moment to the subject; and they would, we are persuaded, have led to the instant change of the proposed site, were it not that a difficulty is imagined to exist in finding a better. That this, however, is not the case, and that many situations, infinitely preferable to that we have mentioned, might be obtained, seems too obvious to admit of a doubt.

In the first place, a most noble and conspicuous situation might be obtained at the northern extremity of the Mound, on the spot where the Peristrephic Panorama now stands. The advantages of this spot are obvious. Placed in the very centre of the metropolis, between the Old and New Town, in front of the most frequented terrace in the city, it combines the advantage of being proudly conspicuous, with that of forming a link between its almost-dis

severed parts. To a stranger entering either from the east or the west, it would form the first object which would strike the eye, and in both would possess the inestimable advantage of having its whole outline displayed on the sky. It might be combined in the most beautiful manner with the edifices which are now in contemplation for that central situation. These edifices must consist of low buildings of one or two stories, with colonnades along their sides; and it is with buildings of precisely the same description that the column of Trajan was surrounded in that splendid forum, whose ruins still exist, to justify the admiration of ancient times. Whoever has visited this spot since the form of the forum was laid open by the excavations of the French, must have perceived, that the colonnades which surround the pillar bear a very close resemblance to those which it is proposed to construct on the Mound. It is no inconsiderable advantage, therefore, that by placing the Monument in this situation, it will not only be fixed in one of the most central points of the city, but may be combined with the very same edifices which the taste of antiquity had selected to enhance its beauties.

In the second place, a very fine situation might be obtained at the head of Leith Walk, at the junction of that street and Picardy Place. This situation combines the advantage of being conspicuous from Leith Walk, York. Place, and the New London Road, with that of being placed in one of the most striking points and most frequented thoroughfares of the city. And the great width of the streets, in that vicinity, removes the danger of its being objected to, on account of the obstruction which it might afford to the passage of carriages.

In the third place, it might be placed at the eastern side of Charlotte Square, near the door leading into the garden from George Street. No one surely can doubt, that this splendid column, placed in that situation, would be a great addition to the magnificence of the square; and certainly in no other point could the subscribers hope to have it surrounded with so elegant and ornamental a pile of buildings. From George Street it would form an object worthy of its