the best architect in the world, to add anything to this bit of composition, and not to spoil it.
Again, W. says, first, that the monument "could be placed so as to appear quite distinct and unconnected" with the ruins; and, a few lines below, he says, that its effect will be "taken in connexion with the ruins." Now, though Charles Lamb says that second thoughts are not best, with W. they very certainly are: the effect would, without doubt, be taken in very close connexion with the ruins, rather too close, indeed, for the comfort of either monument: both would be utterly spoiled. Nothing in the way of elevated architecture will harmonise with ruin, but ruin: evidence of present humble life, a cottage or pigsty, for instance, built up against the old wall, is often excellent by way of contrast, but the addition or association of high architecture is total destruction.
But suppose we were to throw the old chapel down, would the site be fit for Scott? Not by any means. It is conspicuous certainly, but only conspicuous to the London road, and the Leith glass-houses. It is visible certainly from the Calton and the Castle: but, from the first, barely distinguishable from the huge, black, overwhelming cliff behind; and, from the second, the glimpse of it is slight and unimportant, for it merely peeps out from behind the rise to Salisbury Crags, and the bold mound on which it stands is altogether concealed; while, from St. Leonard's and the south approaches, it is quite invisible. Then for the site itself, it is a piece of perfect desolation; a lonely
