air of festival. It seems (I do not know how else to put
my meaning) as if it were a trifle too good to be true.
It is what Paris ought to be. It has the scenic quality
that would best set off a life of unthinking, open-air
diversion. It was meant by nature for the realisation of
the society of comic operas. And you can imagine, if the
climate were but towardly, how all the world and his wife
would flock into these gardens in the cool of the
evening, to hear cheerful music, to sip pleasant drinks,
to see the moon rise from behind Arthur's Seat and shine
upon the spires and monuments and the green tree-tops in
the valley. Alas! and the next morning the rain is
splashing on the windows, and the passengers flee along
Princes Street before the galloping squalls.

It cannot be denied that the original design was
faulty and short-sighted, and did not fully profit by the
capabilities of the situation. The architect was
essentially a town bird, and he laid out the modern city
with a view to street scenery, and to street scenery
alone. The country did not enter into his plan; he had
never lifted his eyes to the hills. If he had so chosen,
every street upon the northern slope might have been a
noble terrace and commanded an extensive and beautiful
view. But the space has been too closely built; many of
the houses front the wrong way, intent, like the Man with
the Muck-Rake, on what is not worth observation, and
standing discourteously back-foremost in the ranks; and,
in a word, it is too often only from attic-windows, or
here and there at a crossing, that you can get a look