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each impudently squatted in its garden; each roofed and 

carrying chimneys like a house。  And yet a glance of an 

eye discovers their true character。  They are not houses; 

for they were not designed with a view to human 

habitation; and the internal arrangements are; as they 

tell me; fantastically unsuited to the needs of man。  

They are not buildings; for you can scarcely say a thing 

is built where every measurement is in clamant 

disproportion with its neighbour。  They belong to no 

style of art; only to a form of business much to be 

regretted。



Why should it be cheaper to erect a structure where 

the size of the windows bears no rational relation to the 

size of the front?  Is there any profit in a misplaced 

chimney…stalk?  Does a hard…working; greedy builder gain 

more on a monstrosity than on a decent cottage of equal 

plainness?  Frankly; we should say; No。  Bricks may be 

omitted; and green timber employed; in the construction 

of even a very elegant design; and there is no reason why 

a chimney should be made to vent; because it is so 

situated as to look comely from without。  On the other 

hand; there is a noble way of being ugly: a high…aspiring 

fiasco like the fall of Lucifer。  There are daring and 

gaudy buildings that manage to be offensive; without 

being contemptible; and we know that 'fools rush in where 

angels fear to tread。'  But to aim at making a common…

place villa; and to make it insufferably ugly in each 

particular; to attempt the homeliest achievement; and to 

attain the bottom of derided failure; not to have any 

theory but profit and yet; at an equal expense; to 

outstrip all competitors in the art of conceiving and 

rendering permanent deformity; and to do all this in what 

is; by nature; one of the most agreeable neighbourhoods 

in Britain:… what are we to say; but that this also is a 

distinction; hard to earn although not greatly 

worshipful?



Indifferent buildings give pain to the sensitive; 

but these things offend the plainest taste。  It is a 

danger which threatens the amenity of the town; and as 

this eruption keeps spreading on our borders; we have 

ever the farther to walk among unpleasant sights; before 

we gain the country air。  If the population of Edinburgh 

were a living; autonomous body; it would arise like one 

man and make night hideous with arson; the builders and 

their accomplices would be driven to work; like the Jews 

of yore; with the trowel in one hand and the defensive 

cutlass in the other; and as soon as one of these masonic 

wonders had been consummated; right…minded iconoclasts 

should fall thereon and make an end of it at once。



Possibly these words may meet the eye of a builder 

or two。  It is no use asking them to employ an architect; 

for that would be to touch them in a delicate quarter; 

and its use would largely depend on what architect they 

were minded to call in。  But let them get any architect 

in the world to point out any reasonably well…

proportioned villa; not his own design; and let them 

reproduce that model to satiety。





CHAPTER VIII。

THE CALTON HILL。





THE east of new Edinburgh is guarded by a craggy 

hill; of no great elevation; which the town embraces。  

The old London road runs on one side of it; while the New 

Approach; leaving it on the other hand; completes the 

circuit。  You mount by stairs in a cutting of the rock to 

find yourself in a field of monuments。  Dugald Stewart 

has the honours of situation and architecture; Burns is 

memorialised lower down upon a spur; Lord Nelson; as 

befits a sailor; gives his name to the top…gallant of the 

Calton Hill。  This latter erection has been differently 

and yet; in both cases; aptly compared to a telescope and 

a butter…churn; comparisons apart; it ranks among the 

vilest of men's handiworks。  But the chief feature is an 

unfinished range of columns; 'the Modern Ruin' as it has 

been called; an imposing object from far and near; and 

giving Edinburgh; even from the sea; that false air; of a 

Modern Athens which has earned for her so many slighting 

speeches。  It was meant to be a National Monument; and 

its present state is a very suitable monument to certain 

national characteristics。  The old Observatory … a quaint 

brown building on the edge of the steep … and the new 

Observatory … a classical edifice with a dome … occupy 

the central portion of the summit。  All these are 

scattered on a green turf; browsed over by some sheep。



The scene suggests reflections on fame and on man's 

injustice to the dead。  You see Dugald Stewart rather 

more handsomely commemorated than Burns。  Immediately 

below; in the Canongate churchyard; lies Robert 

Fergusson; Burns's master in his art; who died insane 

while yet a stripling; and if Dugald Stewart has been 

somewhat too boisterously acclaimed; the Edinburgh poet; 

on the other hand; is most unrighteously forgotten。  The 

votaries of Burns; a crew too common in all ranks in 

Scotland and more remarkable for number than discretion; 

eagerly suppress all mention of the lad who handed to him 

the poetic impulse and; up to the time when he grew 

famous; continued to influence him in his manner and the 

choice of subjects。  Burns himself not only acknowledged 

his debt in a fragment of autobiography; but erected a 

tomb over the grave in Canongate churchyard。  This was 

worthy of an artist; but it was done in vain; and 

although I think I have read nearly all the biographies 

of Burns; I cannot remember one in which the modesty of 

nature was not violated; or where Fergusson was not 

sacrificed to the credit of his follower's originality。  

There is a kind of gaping admiration that would fain roll 

Shakespeare and Bacon into one; to have a bigger thing to 

gape at; and a class of men who cannot edit one author 

without disparaging all others。  They are indeed mistaken 

if they think to please the great originals; and whoever 

puts Fergusson right with fame; cannot do better than 

dedicate his labours to the memory of Burns; who will be 

the best delighted of the dead。



Of all places for a view; this Calton Hill is 

perhaps the best; since you can see the Castle; which you 

lose from the Castle; and Arthur's Seat; which you cannot 

see from Arthur's Seat。  It is the place to stroll on one 

of those days of sunshine and east wind which are so 

common in our more than temperate summer。  The breeze 

comes off the sea; with a little of the freshness; and 

that touch of chill; peculiar to the quarter; which is 

delightful to certain very ruddy organizations and 

greatly the reverse to the majority of mankind。  It 

brings with it a faint; floating haze; a cunning 

decolourizer; although not thick enough to obscure 

outlines near at hand。  But the haze lies more thickly to 

windward at the far end of Musselburgh Bay; and over the 

Links of Aberlady and Berwick Law and the hump of the 

Bass Rock it assumes the aspect of a bank of thin sea 

fog。



Immediately underneath upon the south; you command 

the yards of the High School; and the towers and courts 

of the new Jail … a large place; castellated to the 

extent of folly; standing by itself on the edge of a 

steep cliff; and often joyfully hailed by tourists as the 

Castle。  In the one; you may perhaps see female prisoners 

taking exercise like a string of nuns; in the other; 

schoolboys running at play and their shadows keeping step 

with them。  From the bottom of the valley; a gigantic 

chimney rises almost to the level of the eye; a taller 

and a shapelier edifice than Nelson's Monument。  Look a 

little farther; and there is Holyrood Palace; with its 

Gothic frontal and ruined abbey; and the red sentry 

pacing smartly too and fro before the door like a 

mechanical figure in a panorama。  By way of an outpost; 

you can single out the little peak…roofed lodge; over 

which Rizzio's murderers made their escape and where 

Queen Mary herself; according to gossip; bathed in white 

wine to entertain her loveliness。  Behind and overhead; 

lie the Queen's Park; from Muschat's Cairn to 

Dumbiedykes; St。 Margaret's Loch; and the long wall of 

Salisbury Crags: and thence; by knoll and rocky bulwark 

and precipitous slope; the eye rises to the top of 

Arthur's Seat; a hill for magnitude; a mountain in virtue 

of its bold design。  This upon your left。  Upon the 

right; the roofs and spires of the Old Town climb one 

above another to where the citadel prints its broad bulk 

and jagged crown of bastions on the western sky。 … 

Perhaps it is now one in the afternoon; and at the same 

instant of time; a ball rises to the summit of Nelson's 

flagstaff close at hand; and; far away; a puff of smoke 

followed by a report bursts from the half…moon battery at 

the Castle。  This is the time…gun by which people set 

their watches; as far as the sea 

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