governments had not done what Lord Elgin did as an individual, there would not have been a fragment left at this day to exhibit the grandeur of the Grecian art as practised by Phidias. The British nation, by the purchase of these monuments, has secured a possession of inestimable value[86]." From these observations, it would appear that the spoliation of the Parthenon may be vindicated on the ground, that neither the Turks nor the citizens cared any thing about them, and that if they had not been taken away, they would, in a short time, have been destroyed. Respectable testimony, however, is opposed to this: most travellers have inveighed against the spoliation; and two, highly qualified, have given a very different account from what the above statement implies. These are Dr. Clarke and Mr. Dodwell. We shall select the testimony of the latter in preference to that of Dr. Clarke, only because he was at Athens at the very time in which the spoliation was going on. "During my first tour to Greece," says he, "I had the inexpressible mortification of being present when the Parthenon was despoiled of its finest sculpture, and when some of its architectural members were thrown to the ground." * * * "It is, indeed, impossible to suppress the feelings of regret which must arise in the breast of every traveller, who has seen these temples before and since their late dilapidation! Nor have I any hesitation in declaring, that the Athenians in general, nay, even the Turks themselves, did lament the ruin that was committed; and loudly and openly blamed their sovereign for the permission he had granted! I was on the spot at the time, and had an opportunity of observing, and, indeed, of participating, in the sentiment of indignation, which such conduct universally inspired. The whole proceeding was so unpopular in Athens, that it was necessary to pay the labourers more than their usual profits, before any one could be prevailed upon to assist in this work of profanation." "Such rapacity is a crime against all ages and all generations," says Mr. Eustace; "it deprives the past of the trophies of their genius and the title-deeds of their fame; the present of the strongest inducements to exertion, the noblest exhibitions that curiosity can contemplate; and the future of the master-pieces of art, the models of imitation. To guard against the repetition of such depredations is the wish of every man of genius, the duty of every man in power, and the common interest of every civilised nation."