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we observe, are to form a subsequent volume by them- that this mode of instruction has only to be tried, in selves. This exercise consists in making it compulsory order to be very extensively adopted. We find that she on the pupil to read with the understanding, by obli- disclaims the merit of originality in the discovery, menging him to fill up all the blank words or phrases which tioning that she saw it accidentally" in a single printare intentionally left in any piece of composition selected sheet, published some time since by Dr Borthwick ed to form the Reading. Whilst the mind, as well as Gilchrist, the well-known Oriental scholar;" but, neverthe memory and the eye, is thus brought into action, a theless, praise scarcely inferior to that of originality is lesson in grammar, and in the exact signification and due to the person who perceives so distinctly the merit application of words and synonymes, is taught at the of a suggestion made by another, that the very first opsame time. The blanks are marked regularly by figures, portunity is taken to revive and enforce it, and make it and the teacher keeps a key with corresponding figures, generally known. to which the words or phrases omitted are affixed. "Sometimes, when in doubt about a word, the children were gratified to find that they had hit upon the right one, the true sense and exact meaning of the author: sometimes their mother said they had found even a better word than the original one.' An example of this sort of Reading will make the matter more distinct :

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"BRITISH INTREPIDITY AND HUMANITY. "A small French vessel, the Leonora of L'Orient, with a (1) of seven men, and a (2) of grain, was, in April 1817, attacked by a violent gale, and in (3) to get into the (4) of Calais, was overpowered by the force of the (5) and currents, and waves, and driven on the rocks to the east of the port, where she struck. The danger soon became (6), and the wrecks thrown on shore, announced the certain (7) of the (8) mariners. Numerous (9) of this scene of desolation, lamented that they could afford no (10). At this (11) moment, there was seen (12) with force of oars, a pinnace-boat sent from the British Yacht, the Royal Sovereign. The boat, commanded by Lieutenant Charles Moore, who had under him eight (13), advanced with (14) in spite of the dangers by which it was (15). Captain Owen, the commander of the yacht, stood on the extremity of the pier of (16), covered with the dashing (17), to cheer and direct the brave lieutenant and his (18) crew. Four of the (19) men on the wreck had, by this time, disappeared; but at last Lieutenant Moore got within a little (20) of it, and by means of a rope which they threw (21) saved two of the (22) men. Not being able longer to keep their position, they attempted to land these two on the pier, when Captain Wilkinson, commander of a Dover packet, threw himself into the boat to assist this manœuvre at the risk of his own (22). All was (23) accomplished, but there was still a poor man who had (24) himself to the mast with a rope, that he might not be (25) overboard. Lieutenant Moore and his brave (26) returned to face anew a danger they already knew to be so great, and had nearly (27) the (28), when the gallant lieutenant, standing up to direct the rowers, was swept into the water by a (29) wave, that (30) over the pinnace. He instantly disappeared! A feeling of horror and consternation struck the (31) spectators on the shore.

The lieutenant, after passing under the boat in that frightful sea, recovered himself, and rose to the surface, where he was immediately taken up by the (32), and replaced in the (33). The courage of this generous man was not (34) by this narrow escape from death; he returned with (35) perseverance to the perishing (36), for whose safety he (37) his own.

We wish Mrs Johnstone all success in this new branch of literature which she has taken under her care. The only fault we can find with the "Diversions of Hollycot," is an occasional disposition to snappishness, and perhaps a little vulgarity on the part of the young people, which we should have been glad to have seen avoided. Mrs Johnstone's good sense will easily enable her to correct a defect of this kind; and, with her abilities, we are aware of no reason why she should not ere long be regarded as the Miss Edgeworth of Scotland.

Knight's and Rumley's Crests of the Nobility and Gentry
of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.
Designed principally for the use of Artists. London,
Sherwood and Co.; Edinburgh, A. Stewart.
Knight's Heraldic Illustrations of Supporters, Shields,
Ornaments, Brackets, Ciphers, &c. Drawn and En-
graved by the first Heraldic Artists. To be completed
in five Parts, published every two months. London,
T. Griffiths; Edinburgh, A. Stewart.
Knight's Modern and Antique Gems.
Griffiths; Edinburgh, A. Stewart.

London, T.

THESE very beautiful heraldic works, executed in a style of elegance and taste seldom surpassed, are as yet hardly known in Scotland. We have much pleasure in recommending them to the attention of our readers, whether as illustrations of heraldry and chivalry, or as specimens of art which reflect the highest credit on the publishers. The crests of the nobility and gentry, comprised in one large quarto volume, and of which several hundreds are given, must be interesting to the antiquarian, from the nature of the subject, and the aid they will afford him in his researches regarding that honourable emblem of distinction, which, being the uppermost part of an armoury, frequently characterised the bearer as much as his arms, was often constituted by royal grant, and was almost always borne by monarchs themselves, as witness the lions of Richard II. of England, and of James I. of Scotland. To herald-painters, engravers, and chasers, the work, in a professional point of view, must also be exceedingly valuable, as exhibiting a specimen of a much correcter style of drawing in this department of art, and entirely doing away with the rudeness and the inaccuracy of the mottos, inscriptions, and sculptures of former times.-The Illustrations of supporters, shields, and other ornaments, is an undertaking of equal merit, but only the first part has yet been published.

The work on " Modern and Antique Gems," which The Key. "(1) crew; (2) cargo; (3) endeavour- contains a very numerous and curious collection, though ing; (4) harbour; (5) wind; (6) imminent; (7) fate; originally designed principally for the use of seal-en(8) wretched; (9) spectators; (10) help; (11) perilous; gravers, may justly be entitled, as suggested in the pre(12) advancing; (13) men; (14) rapidity; (15) surround-face, "A Fancy Scrap-Book." There is in it something ed; (16) Calais; (17) spray; (18) daring; (19) unfortunate; (20) distance; (21) out; (22) unfortunate; (22) life; (23) happily; (24) lashed; (25) washed; (26) crew; (27) reached; (28) wreck; (29) tremendous; (30) broke; (31) anxious; (32) sailors; (33) boat; (34) shaken; (35) unabated; (36) scamen; (37) risk


We heartily agree with Mrs Johnstone, in thinking

to afford a study or an amusement to almost everybody. by a minute examination of many of the subjects; the The admirer of the fine arts will have his taste gratified scholar will find antiques from the Elgin marbles, some fine Grecian heads, and several plates of hieroglyphics; of designs which bear a reference to the tender passion; the young lady will be delighted with the multiplicity the sportsman will be entertained with dogs, horses, and birds innumerable; the man of general literature will

find mythology, sentiment, satire, humour, all at his command; and, with these claims upon attention, we think the "Modern and Antique Gems," or The Fancy Scrap-Book, should be plentifully sprinkled through libraries and drawing-rooms.

"I pretend to offer no opinion upon the value of the work in respect to art-my opinion on that subject is li terally worth nothing in addition to that of the numerous judges of paramount authority which have already admitted its high merits. But I may presume to say, that this valuable and extended series of the portraits of the illustrious dead affords to every private gentleman, at a moderate expense, the interest attached to a large gallery of British portraits, on a plan more extensive than any collection which exists, and, at the same time, the essence of a curious library of historical, bibliographical, and antiquarian works. It is a work which, in regard to England, might deserve the noble motto rendered with such dignity by Dryden :

Lodge's Series of Fortraits of Illustrious Personages of Great Britain, with Historical Memoirs. London, Harding and Lepard; Edinburgh, W. Tait. THIS is a new edition of one of the most interesting works in this department of the fine arts which England has produced. Under the superintendence of Mr Lodge, one hundred and eighty portraits of the illustrious dead of this country were engraved by the most celebrated artists, from original and authentic portraits in the possession of the nobility and gentry. These were accompanied with biographical and historical memoirs, written with much clearness and ability. Two sets of this work were published, a large one, which sold at an immense price, and a smaller one, which has proved so successful that the plates were all worn out. The portraits have been now re-engraved, and are to be published a third time, in monthly numbers, each number containing three, with biographical memoirs attached to each, and to be sold at the moderate price of seven shillings and sixpence. The specimen number is now on our table, containing portraits of James Graham, Marquis of Montrose; Mary Stewart; and Lord Darnley. In other copies Cardinal Beaton is substituted for Montrose. All these are beautifully executed, especially the first. A letter from Sir Walter Scott to the publishers has been printed along with them, which, altogether independent of its remarks upon this work, is valuable as a piece of Art and Nature. A Tale. Edinburgh. Alex. Mackay. literary composition, and shall therefore be transferred to our pages:


"SIR,-I am obliged by your letter, requesting that I
would express to you my sentiments respecting Mr
Lodge's splendid work, consisting of the portraits of the
most celebrated persons of English history, accompa-
nied with memoirs of their lives. I was at first disposed
to decline offering any opinion on the subject; not be-
cause I had the slightest doubt in my own mind con-
cerning the high value of the work, but because in ex-
pressing sentiments I might be exposed to censure, as if
attaching to my own judgment more importance than it
could deserve. Mr Lodge's work is, however, one of
such vast consequence, that a person attached, as I have
been for many years, to the study of history and anti-
quities, may, I think, in a case of this rare and peculiar
kind, be justly blamed for refusing his opinion, if re-
quired, concerning a publication of such value and im-


"Mr Lodge's talents as a historian and antiquary are well known to the public by his admirable collection of ancient letters and documents, entitled Illustrations of British History, a book which I have very frequently consulted; and have almost always succeeded in finding not only the information required, but collected a great deal more as I went in search of it. The present work presents the same talents and industry; the same patient powers of collecting information from the most obscure and hidden sources, and the same talent for selecting the facts which are the rarest and most interesting, and presenting them to the general reader in a lu

minous and concise manner.

"It is impossible for me to conceive a work which ought to be more interesting to the present age than that which exhibits before our eyes our fathers as they lived,' accompanied with such memorials of their lives and characters as enable us to compare their persons and

countenances with their sentiments and actions.

From hence the line of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome.' "I will enlarge no more on the topic, because I am certain that it requires not the voice of an obscure individual to point out to the British public the merits of a collection which at once satisfies the imagination and the understanding, showing us by the pencil how the most distinguished of our ancestors looked, moved, and dressed; and informs us by the pen how they thought, acted, lived, and died. I should, in any other case, have declined expressing an opinion in this public, and almost intrusive manner; but I feel that, when called upon to bear evidence in such a cause, it would be unmanly to decline appearing in court, although expressing an opinion to which, however just, my name can add but little weight.

"Abbotsford, 25th March, 1828."

1828. Pp. 32.

THIS is a production of some seven hundred lines, in which a considerable facility of rhyming is discovered; but what they mean, or for what purpose they were written or published, is quite past our comprehension. The preface, too, which one generally expects will explain something, is as bad as the rest. The author, " in travelling to London, chanced to see in a window a French print," and this print brought to mind a very beautiful and fascinating lady of his acquaintance. But "the inferiority of the print (however graceful and interesting,) was at least as striking as its resemblance to the fair object of his agreeable reminiscences; and this incident gave rise to a series of rhymes, which neither are entitled, nor aspire, to the dignity of a poem." Now, though one does not exactly see what occasion there was to found "a series of rhymes" on this "incident" at all, yet one naturally expects that the rhymes which were founded on it will turn out to have some connexion with it. But they have no more connexion with the said "incident" than they seem to have with any thing else, human or divine, under or above the sun. Nevertheless, there is some cleverness in them, though it is difficult to say of what sort.

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THE PAPER-MAKER'S COFFIN. From the German of Clawren. It was an evening like the present; the snow fell thick and heavy; the sky was gloomy and cloudy; we sat round the warm fire and talked. Our conversation became interesting. The death of our neighbour, the Paper-maker, which had taken place only the day before, occasioned many remarks. The old warder of the forest called the Paper-maker a beggarly rascal; not so much on account of his trade, as from the badness of his character. "Such a fellow," he said, "could have no peace in his grave. He oppressed every one within his power, and was a severe, cruel man all his life."

"Be quiet, husband," said his wife. "He is gone, and we should never speak ill of the dead. The pall which is thrown over the coffin at the interment, should be the mantle of Christian love; it covers the deceased with all his errors and sins. " Judge not, that ye may not be judged.""

"Neither do I judge,” replied the old man, holding out his hand affectionately to his wife; "I only think, that if all the tears lay upon my heart which that villain made to flow, I should never sink peaceably to my eternal rest. The fellow died frightfully, and no wonder; -pain had distorted all his limbs; and his last word was a tremendous oath. In the morning he had declared that he would go that night to the fir plantation, and show the bailiff the boundary; but when he said so, he little suspected he was standing on the brink of the grave. Three hours afterwards he was a corpse."

"Dear father," said Mina, half playfully, half in earnest, and casting a look full of meaning at me,-"dear father, do not talk about the fir plantation; for there is one here who must go through it to-night."

"Oh, never mind that, Mina. Should ten Papermakers stand in my way, I and my black horse would gallop by them or over them. What is the history about the boundary ?"

"Do you really mean to go home in this weather ?" said the old lady. "It is so dark, that one cannot see one's hand. The country is covered with snow; you will not be able to find the road, and the night is no man's friend."

I could not consent to stay, I was only a short league from home; and whilst my horse was getting ready, I learned the following particulars :

who had been apprehended, remained in the mean time in chains. This very evening there was to have been a meeting at the place of dispute. The Paper-maker had said, on the morning of the day on which he died, being then in sound health, that he would attend the meeting, but it might be late, as he had business of consequence to transact. Shortly afterwards, he was taken suddenly and violently ill; but, notwithstanding his excruciating pains, he remembered his rancour against the Bailiff; and just an hour before his death, whilst writhing in agony, he said, that if a million of devils held him down on his bed, he would nevertheless appear at the place of dispute, and confront the Bailiff.

My horse, which was to carry me in a few minutes over the spot in question, was now saddled, and waiting for me at the door. I took leave, and my good steed darted off with me like lightning. I willingly gave him the rein; he pranced on through the deep snow, and went snorting across the dreary flat, till we entered the fir plantation. There the road was narrower, the snow deeper, and my horse became more impatient. He was dashing impetuously along, when he stopped so suddenly, that I was nearly thrown over his head by the jerk. I kept on my saddle, however, tightened the rein, and spurred him forward, but the animal was immovable; he pawed with his fore feet, reared up, pricked his ears, and snorted.

"What if the Paper-maker"-the idea only passed half through my mind; yet I stood on the spot where the poor old woman had breathed out her soul in the struggle with the murderer. "Coward!" said I to myself, and again had recourse to the spur; but the horse only made a spring sideways. I now tried to coax him; I patted his neck with a trembling hand; but nothing could induce him to advance a step. I began to feel convinced that something either stood or lay in his way; but, though it had ceased snowing, I could not see five steps before me. I have tolerable nerve; but people may say as they will-I felt a very uncomfortable sort of sensation creeping over me; I alighted, led my horse with my left hand, and held my switch before me with the right. The horse followed a few steps trembling; he then suddenly stopped, and again snorted loudly from his wide.extended nostrils. I looked steadily before me

my eye fell on a black coffin which stood in the middle of the way. I had courage enough to strike it with my switch; but the stroke sounded dreadfully hollow, and, as the horse at the same moment darted still farther off, my heart failed me. I recollected there was a footpath which led through the plantation. I remounted, and rode back till I reached its commencement, and then turned into it. It ran parallel with the road, and at no great distance from it. When I got again to the neighbourhood of the coffin, the horse resumed his symptoms of uneasiness; but no sooner had he passed the spot, than he dashed forward at full speed, as if for life and death. For my own part, I was so cold and frozen, that every limb shook. My brother had not gone to bed, and I related to him my adventures. He laughed at me ; but I protested, on my honour, the truth of what I had seen and heard.

"Then I will prove the whole a piece of rodomontade," said he. "My two land bailiffs shall go with you to the spot. If you find the coffin, I will pay each of them a dollar for his trouble: if you do not find it, it is but right that you should reward them."

About a year ago, an old woman was murdered in the fir plantation. The assassin had dragged her several steps away from the spot where he committed the deed, and concealed her behind a hillock. The spot where she was murdered was very evident from the marks in the sand, and the quantity of blood. The infamous act was committed behind a bush close to the road-side. The bush lay in the demesne of the Prince, but the mound I had no objections to the conditions, and ordered in which the woman was found buried was, according to my horse to be brought out again. The bailiffs accomthe assertion of the Justice, on the property of the Pa-panied me, and we drew near the plantation. My horse per maker. The latter, however, affirmed that his property began only at the back of the hillock. The question had not yet been decided who should bear the expenses of the prosecution, whether the proprietor of the post where the murder was committed, or of the spot where the murdered person was found. The assassin,

went on quietly-we reached the spot of terror-the coffin had vanished-I was two dollars poorer—and when I got back they all laughed most unmercifully. I remained, however, perfectly convinced that my senses had not deceived me. I scarcely slept an hour all nightthe black coffin was continually before me--I heard the

hollow stroke of the whip, and felt the trembling of the terrified horse under me.

Next morning I made it my first business to ride back to the plantation. The traces of my horse's feet were still visible; he had trampled down the snow all round the spot where the coffin had stood; but there was nothing else to be seen. I rode on to Mina's house, and related the whole circumstances there. "I told you so," said the old man; "I knew he would have no peace in his grave!" His wife folded her hands, and said mildly, "Bless them which persecute you; bless, and curse not; he will certainly be judged, but God will judge him!"

"No doubt, no doubt," answered her husband; "but the devil has already got him in his clutches. You hear that it was his coffin."

"Of a truth," said Mina, more seriously and energetically than she was wont," of a truth, it was his


Her manner surprised me; there was none of her usual gaiety in it; my pulse began to beat quick.

"What do you know of the matter, Mina ?" She raised up her head from her work, flung back the ringlets that clustered over her brow, and looking significantly about her, she beckoned us to gather round her work-table.

"You know the deceased Paper-maker's boy, Martin? Well, yesterday evening, Martin went to fetch his master's coffin from the undertaker's; but as it was badly secured on the sledge, it slipped off behind, while Martin went on quite unconscious of his loss. You and your horse came to the spot; got into a terrible fever of fright, and galloped off by the side path. Meanwhile Martin got home, missed the coffin, returned, and carried it away; so when you and the two bailiffs heroically came back, the apparition had vanished. Martin told me the whole story this morning."

For at least a fortnight, I was the laughing-stock of the country.



By Dr Memes, Author of "Memoirs of the Life of Canova," &c.

"Art is the half of man's nature.


THE history of our early architecture, whether compared with itself, or in reference to English and continental art, exhibits remarkable peculiarities. As respects general characteristics, the architectural labours of no modern nation present a style of composition so little varied, or which appears to have been so uniformly governed by external influences. Posterior even to the former part of last century, there existed only the two grand divisions of sacred and feudal erections, by which, in other states, the middle ages of improvement and of empire are distinguished. In each of these classes its own uniformity of taste prevails; while they possess distinctive features of the most opposite description. Our sacred architecture, (inferior though it certainly be in extent and magnificence of undertaking,) in purity of design, variety, and richness of decoration, equals the best examples of the south, and excels those of the east and north of Europe. The reverse is the case of our baronial remains. These, in design, workmanship, and extent, not only partake of the general inferiority of their class, as compared with ecclesiastical buildings, but rest far beneath the feudal strongholds of all our neighbours. Through the connexion, always to be traced between the modes of refinement, and the political condition among any people, it would prove not difficult to reconcile these seeming anomalies. At pre

sent, we can barely indicate the principles of elucidation. Of these, the isolation of Scotland-her limited resources-the peculiar character of her warfare-the briefness of foreign dominion-the means, habits, privileges and knowledge of her hierarchy and noblesabove all, the absence during many centuries of even a resemblance to a tiers état, will furnish the chief.

The Reformation first created a third political estate, by calling into action the energies and weight of the people; but to the arts in Scotland, the spirit of the reformers proved doubly destructive. During the reigns of the English Stuarts, some advances were effected to. wards the introduction of classical architecture, and even some of the designs of Inigo Jones were executed. These attempts, however, as well as a few buildings at a later period by Campbell and Bruce, excited little attention, and no sympathy in the nation at large. Nor till the last reign, when the numerous works of Chambers, Clerk, Adams, and Stark, but especially the commencement of a new capital, awakened the public mind to the interest of the subject, does the state of architecture in Scotland merit much attention. The names now mentioned formed the school in which our living architects chiefly studied. The masters, however, have been excelled by the pupils. The former took as their model, Palladio, an imitator, though a graceful one, at second-hand, for he imitated the Roman imitators. The architects of the present day, we mean of our own country, and to them as a body the praise is understood to be restricted, have advanced to the origin and sacred source of art; following the pure, and simple, and universal modes of Greece.

The architectural character of a country depends upon that of its individual buildings, as is chiefly the case in Italy, or upon the beauty of its cities, as generally throughout Europe. It is in like manner to her capital that Scotland is indebted for what celebrity in this respect she may have attained. Than Edinburgh, few cities, perhaps not one, enjoy more excellent capabilities of natural site; while none, Vienna not even excepted, whose plan admitted this precious and rare beauty to a very great extent, supplies an instance of the contrast of two entire cities, each of different age, manners, and associations; not only so, but each furnishing a most noble specimen in itself,-fer in varied grandeur of effect than the High Street, the sixteenth century has scarcely left a finer example. Much of all this certainly has been felt and realized, but it is equally true, that neither the moral nor the natural capabilities of the scene have been justly evoked. Nay, good taste is often shocked by strange and inexplicable dereliction of advantages, easier far to have been embraced; and features have been effaced in wantonness, for the preservation of which sacrifices were rather to be made.

The subject generally will derive illustration from further consideration of this topic. Edinburgh, that is the New Town, possesses the greatest simplicity and regularity of plan; while, if judiciously made available, the situation would have enabled the architect, with this simplicity, to have united variety of parts and force of contrast-the very perfection of street architecture-the most arduous department of the profession. Unfortunately, it is exactly here that the failure has occurred. Of the three noble routes, forming the master lines in the ichnography-Prince's Street, fronting the Castle and the ancient city, in site the finest, is in architecture the most irregular, and the meanest. On the contrary, to have preserved, or even heightened, the distinctive character and associations of ancient feudal power, and modern refinement, which we have mentioned as diffusing over the whole a rare and elevating charm, as constituting the very poetry of the spot, Prince's Street should have been conspicuous for rich and varied, but strictly regular and classical embellishment. Queen's Street, the corresponding terrace on the north, looking out upon

a landscape of almost unrivalled beauty and magnificence, should have accorded in an architecture simple, yet noble, in which the chaste Ionic predominated. Instead of this, the buildings here are without pretensions to distinctive character of any kind. The central range of George Street might have commanded almost every beauty of street scenery. Fine terminations, lateral divisions, admitting with great propriety of varied compartments, or symmetrical mutations of manner, an elevated position, giving an unbroken skyline,-all have been overlooked, and a monotonous unfeeling style adopted, differing little from a continuous wall. These remarks are not to be regarded merely as gratuitous criticisms upon what might, or might not have been done. The principles which they advocate are founded in nature, and appear sufficiently obvious, while to have acted upon them would have added little to the original expense, had they, from the first, been held in view. We wish, therefore, to impress their results as supplying two essential maxims, either unknown or hitherto disregarded in Scottish Architecture:

I. It should always be remembered, that street scenery admits, with advantage, greater variety of embellishment, than its component edifices separately and apart could with propriety receive.

II. In the architecture of cities, greatness of general effect can seldom or never be attained by mere extent; there must be variety combined with symmetry in the constituents of that grandeur. It is on the principle of variety that ancient cities are so generally picturesque; it is the want of symmetry that renders them so seldom beautiful or grand.

fortunate his pupils, who discovers and applies such incentives most extensively. The awaking of such feelings in the youthful mind, therefore, as ranking, in the present instance, with the principle of utility the accomplishment of the effect, is one of the highest and most legitimate beauties of art. The minor imperfections and improprieties which appear amid this splendour of general result, are to be ascribed to the original plan: Adams wanted the soul,-the genius-the exquisite cultivation, which lives only in the majesty of simplicity; of this we are the more convinced from observing the classical purity of other works, by the present accomplished architect, and from the simple beauty of his part of the internal arrangement. We note especially the library, not unworthy of the Palatine itself, when the repository of the undiminished treasures of Grecian and Roman literature. We would venture to suggest what cannot have escaped his penetrationthat a difficulty of no little magnitude still remains ;one which would escape the unpractised eye-but one, upon the successful removal of which, much of the beauty and firmness of effect in the basement depends, namely the providing of proper means of access to the numerous entrances.

The buildings in the Grecian style, now erecting or recently completed in Edinburgh, exhibit pleasing proofs of the advanced state of Scottish Architecture, furnishing practical illustrations of the precept," think as the ancients thought," being composed both in the spirit and in the very modes of antiquity. The precept should ever thus be united with its corollary. They are also in this union the more anxiously pointed out, as evincing the conveIn Edinburgh, excluding the churches, the public nience of the classic forms applied to the usages of mobuildings are in two styles; those of an earlier date, dern life. A theory and practice opposite to this, has Palladian; the more recent, Grecian in design. Not supplied pretext for every innovation, and for more than as a question of mere taste, but on principles of real half the absurdity introduced into the art. It is matter science, we prefer the latter, although to the former of much regret, that the only one of these edifices yet more strictly belongs the most superb structure, not only finished-the "Royal Institution," as an architectural in the capital, but of Scotland. The College, standing, as feature in the general scene, realizes not its full purpose. in great measure it does, the representative of our na- There are two axioms common alike to good taste and to tional taste, as of our national learning, we rank, not utility, ever to be held in mind, with regard especially to amongst, but with, the noblest quadrangles of Europe. It public buildings, namely, that in itself the structure may possesses, too, this singular merit, that while complete appear to the greatest possible advantage from all the in itself, no feature harshly discordant is obtruded upon principal points of view,-and that, as a part of one the antique and hallowed associations of the locality. grand whole, it contributes the most largely to the geneThis effect, always so desirable, is here most judiciously ral embellishment. In practice, these two propositions preserved by the massive and unpretending plainness of will rarely, if ever, be found independent of each other. the exterior; the front indeed belongs to a different For the accomplishment of these ends, two other co-rela character, but in spite of barbarisms and puerilities, tive principles must be studied; the position of the edithe master thought is grand and imposing. These re-fice on its site, and the selection of that site. In the marks will explain, why we by no means unite in the case before us, the site is happily chosen,-but the pocensure so universally expressed both by foreigners and sition is bad, being too low. No important erection, natives, that this fine structure is not insulated. We especially no columned portico, should be looked down see no primary advantage, far less any improvement now, upon in any of the chief approaches. The whole ought commensurate with the expense of exposing three una- to have been elevated, and rendered distinct from the dorned walls, while all that has architectural pretensions general plane of the Mound, by a terrace, on which the externally is open to view. The noble edifice is to be temple itself should have been reared, with access by a regarded in itself; it borrows and could receive nothing noble flight of steps in front. We may here just menfrom surrounding objects. This is precisely what should tion, that more space still is wanted on each side, and have been in a site to which no grounds were attached, that the junction of the Mound should be formed into a an adjunct by the way little necessary for a winter circular sweep, in order to correct or conceal the original session in a northern climate, and where no peculiar ex- want of a retiring circus at the union of Hanover with cellence of surrounding art required an accessory. Let Prince's Street. then this truly national work be viewed as it ought. Enter, the whole is one magnificent burst of beauty! Nor can we well imagine an effect better calculated to arouse genuine and manly enthusiasm in the mind of the student, to awaken him to the ambition and the dig-. nity of letters. He finds himself at once, and only within his college, surrounded by order, and beauty, and majesty, fitting associations for the calm delights, the elevating pursuits of letters and philosophy. These are matters not of mere sentiment. They mingle in the great business of education, as less obvious indeed, but most powerful instruments; and happy is that instructor, and

Of original adaptation in the use of the purest classic modes, yet adaptation where all their native grace is preserved, the new High School presents a beautiful example. The general design to which this praise is given, similar indeed to all truly good works, is extremely sim. ple, we had almost said common,-being merely a quadrangle, with corner turrets, having also, from the inequality of the ground, fronts of different elevation. But such are the powers of real talent, that, out of elements so meagre, and in common hands disadvantageous, has been created an effect-one of the most august in architecture-that of a Grecian temple on an elevated position.

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