liament Close." On two sides this Close is surrounded by houses of the same gigantic kind of elevation which I have already described to you, and in these, of old, were lodged a great proportion of the dignitaries and principal practitioners of the adjacent courts. At present, however, they are dedicated, like most of the houses in the same quarter of the city, to the accommodation of trades-people, and the inferior persons attached to the Courts of Law. The western side of the quadrangle, is occupied in all its length by the Church of St. Giles's, which in the latter times of Scottish Episcopacy possessed the dignity of a Cathedral, and which, indeed, has been the scene of many of the most remarkable incidents in the ecclesiastical history of Scotland. In its general exterior, this church presents by no means a fine specimen of the Gothic architecture, although there are several individual parts about the structure which display great beauty-the tower, above all, which rises out of the centre of the pile, and is capped with a very rich and splendid canopy in the shape of a Crown Imperial. This beautiful tower and canopy form a fine point in almost every view of the city of Edinburgh; but the effect of the whole building, when one hears and thinks of it as a Cathedral, is a thing of no great significance. The neighbourhood of the Castle would indeed take something from the impression produced by the greatest Cathedral I am acquainted with, were it placed on the site of St. Giles's; but nothing assuredly could have formed a finer accompaniment of softening and soothing interest to the haughty and imperious sway of that majestic fortress, than some large reposing mass of religious architecture, lifting itself, as if under its protection, out of the heart of the city which it commands. The only want, if want there be, in the whole aspect of this city, is, that of some such type of the grandeur of Religion rearing itself in the air, in somewhat of its due proportion of magnitude and magnificence. It is the only great city, the first impression of whose greatness is not blended with ideas suggested by the presence of some such edifice, piercing the sky in splendour or in gloom, far

above the frailer and lowlier habitations of those that come to worship beneath its roof. You remember those fine lines of Wordsworth, when, talking of the general external aspect of England, he says

"Not wanting at wide intervals the bulk
Of ancient Minster, lifted above the clouds
Of the dense air, which town or city breeds,
To intercept the sun's glad beams."-

I know not, indeed, that any advantages, even of natural grandeur of situation or scenery, can entirely make up for the want of some such effect as the poet would describe, in the general view of any city set apart for the dwelling-place of Men, and of Christians. It seems to be the most natural and proper of all things, that from whatever side the traveller approaches to a Christian city, his eye should be invited, nay, commanded, to repose on some majestic monument of its Faith and its Devotion.-Every one, for example, that has ever sailed up the Thames-the only avenue that is worthy of LONDON-must recollect what a grand mixture of feelings arose within him, when-beyond forests of masts, and above one dark, impenetrable, and limitless ocean of smoke,-he saw for the first time the holy dome of St. Paul's, hung afar off, serene and golden among the clouds. What a calm radiance of sanctity and sublimity does that mighty temple appear to diffuse over the huge city, stretched out in endless pomp and endless darkness at its feet! How that one supreme presence sheds gracefulness and majesty over all that

is done beneath its shadow!

There is a plan in agitation at present for erecting a splendid church in Edinburgh, as a great National Monument, in memory of the events of the late war, and already I find a large sum of money has been subscribed for carrying this plan into execution. I heartily wish it speedy and entire suc

cess.

The sketch which I have seen of the intended edifice, appears to me to be one of the finest things that architectural genius has for many ages produced. In front, there is a

portico, as grand as that of the Pantheon; behind this, a dome of most majestic height and dimension is lifted above a hall, around the exterior of which, tier above tier, and line within line of massy columns, are seen swelling or diminishing in endless variety of classical splendour. This hall is destined for the reception of statues and inscriptions, and it forms the entrance way into a stately church, which shoots out from the side opposite to the portico. Where it is proposed to place this fine edifice, I know not; but wherever it is placed, so it be placed at all, it cannot fail to add immeasurably to the effect of the finest situation, and the finest city in the world. But I have wandered widely from St. Giles's and the Parliament Close.

The southern side of the square, and a small part of the eastern side, are filled with venerable Gothic buildings, which for many generations have been devoted to the accommodation of the Courts of Law, but which are now entirely shut. out from the eye of the public, by a very ill-conceived and tasteless front-work of modern device, including a sufficient allowance of staring square windows, and Ionic pillars and pilasters. What beauty the front of the structure may have possessed in its original state, I have no means of ascertaining; but Mr. W— sighs every time we pass through the Close, as pathetically as could be wished, over "the glory that hath departed." At all events, there can be no question, that the present frontispiece is every way detestable. It is heavy and clumsy in itself; and extremely ill chosen, moreover, whether one considers the character and appearance of the hall to which it gives access, or the aspect of the cathedral, and the old buildings in immediate juxta-position without. Had it been resolved to remove entirely the seat of the Courts of Law, and provide for them more convenient and more extensive accommodation in some more modern part of the city, I am informed the money that has been thrown away within the last thirty years upon repairs and alterations, none of which have added any thing to the beauty or much

to the convenience of the old Courts, would have been abundantly sufficient to cover the expense of building the new.

Right in front of the main entrance to the Courts as they stand, a fine equestrian statue of Charles II. enjoys a much more conspicuous situation than the merits of its original seem at all entitled to claim-more particularly from the people of Scotland. I think it rather unfortunate that this should be the only statue which salutes the public eye in the streets of Edinburgh. To say the truth, he is the only one of all our monarchs for whose character I think it impossible to feel one touch of sympathy or respect. Even his more unfortunate brother had honesty of principle, and something of the feelings of an Englishman. But why should the poor pensioned profligate, whose wit only rendered his vices more culpable, and whose good temper only rendered them more dangerous-why should he be selected for such a mark of distinguishing and hallowing remembrance as this? I should have been better pleased to see Scotland atoning by some such symbol of reverence for her sad offences against his father. I shall conduct you into the interior of the Parliament-House in my next letter.

P. M.

LETTER XXIX.

TO THE SAME.

AFTER passing through one or two dark and dungeon-like lobbies or anti-chambers, or by whatever more appropriate name they may be designated, one enters by a low pair of folding-doors, into what is called the Outer-House, wherein all civil cases are tried, in the first instance, by individual Judges, or Lords Ordinaries, before being submitted to the ultimate decision either of the whole Bench, or of one of its great Divisions. On being admitted, one sees a hall of very

spacious dimensions, which, although not elegant in its finishing or decorations, has nevertheless an air of antique grandeur about it, that is altogether abundantly striking. The roof is very fine, being all of black oak, with the various arches of which it is composed resting one upon another, exactly as in Christ-Church Hall.

The area of this hall is completely filled with law-practitioners, consisting of Solicitors and Advocates, who move in two different streams, along the respective places which immemorial custom has allotted to them on the floor. The crowd which is nearest the door, and in which I first found myself involved, is that of the Solicitors, Agents, Writers, or Men of Business, (for by all these names are they called.) Here is a perfect whirl of eagerness and activity-every face alert, and sharpened into the acutest angles. Some I could see were darting about among the different bars, where pleadings were going forward, like midshipmen in an engagement, furnishing powder to the combatants. They brought their great guns, the advocates, to bear sometimes upon one Judge, and sometimes upon another; while each Judge might be discovered sitting calmly, like a fine piece of stone-work amidst the hiss of bombs and the roar of forty-pounders.

In the meantime, the "men of business," who were not immediately occupied in this way, paced rapidly along-each borne on his particular wave of this great tide of the affairs of men, but all having their faces well turned up above the crowd, and keeping a sharp look-out. This was, I think, their general attitude. It reminded me of trouts bobbing near the surface of a stream, all equally sharp-set and anxious for a snap at whatever is going. Any staring or idle person must have appeared quite out of place amongst them, like a fixed point among Epicurus's concourse of atoms; and indeed I think, after I began to collect myself a little, I could easily observe that I myself, standing firm in the midst of the hubbub, with my arms folded ut mos est, attracted some notice from a few of those that were hurrying past me, to and