·

pects to live out the leasehold term which he takes to build upon. But things would be better done, if people were more averse to having any thing to do with leasehold property. C. always says that the modern lath and plaster system is a wickedness, and upon my word I think he is right. It is inconceivable to me how a man can make up his mind to build, or do any thing else, in a temporary, slight, insincere fashion. What has a man to say for himself, who must sum up the doings of his life in this way. "I chiefly employed myself in making or selling things which seemed to be good and were not. And nobody has occasion to bless me for any thing I have done."

ELLESMERE. Humph, you put it mildly. But the man has made perhaps seven per cent. of his money, or if he has made no per cent. has ruined several men of his own trade, which is not to go for nothing, when a man is taking stock of his good deeds.

MILVERTON. There is one thing I forgot to say, that we want more índividual will in building, I think. As it is at present, a great builder takes a plot of ground and turns out innumerable houses, all alike, the same faults and merits running through each: thus adding to the general dulness of things.

ELLESMERE. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, when she came from abroad, remarked that all her friends seemed to have got into drawing-rooms which were like a grand piano, first a large square or oblong room, and then a small one. Quite Georgian, this style of architecture. But now I think we are improving immensely, at any rate in the outside of houses. By the way, Milverton, I want to ask you one thing; How is

it that Governments and Committees, and the bodies that manage matters of taste, seem to be more tasteless than the average run of people? I will wager any thing that the cabmen round Trafalgar Square would have made a better thing of it than it is. If you had put before them several prints of fountains, they would not have chosen those.

MILVERTON. I think with you, but I have no theory to account for it. I suppose that these committees are frequently hampered by other considerations than those which come before the public when they are looking at the work done. And this may be some excuse. There was a custom which I have heard prevailed in former days in some of the Italian cities, of making large models of the works of art that were to adorn the city, and putting them up in the places intended for the works when finished, and then inviting criticism. It would really be a very good plan in some

cases.

ELLESMERE. Now, Milverton, would you not forthwith pull down such things as Buckingham Palace and the National Gallery? Dunsford looks at me as if I were going to pull down the Constitution.

MILVERTON. I would pull them down to a certainty, or some parts of them at any rate; but whether "forthwith," is another question. There are greater things, perhaps, to be done first. We must consider, too,

"That eternal want of pence
Which vexes public men."

Still I think we ought always to look upon such buildings as temporary arrangements, and they vex one less

then. The Palace ought to be in the higher part of the Park, perhaps on that slope opposite Piccadilly.

DUNSFORD. Well, it does amuse me the way in which you youngsters go on, pulling down, in your industrious imaginations, palaces and national galleries, building aqueducts and cloaca maximæ, forming parks, destroying smoke, so large a part of every Londoner's diet, and abridging plaster, without fear of Chancellors of the Exchequer, and the resistance of mankind in general.

MILVERTON. We must begin by thinking boldly about things. That is a larger part of any undertaking than it seems, perhaps.

DUNSFORD. We must, I am afraid, break off our pleasant employment of projecting public improvements, unless we mean to be dinnerless.

ELLESMERE. A frequent fate of great projectors, I

fear.

MILVERTON. Now then, homewards.

VOL. I.

12

CHAPTER XI.

My readers will, perhaps, agree with me in being sorry to find that we are coming to the end of our present series. I say "my readers," though I have so little part in purveying for them, that I mostly consider myself one of them. It is no light task, however, to give a good account of a conversation; and I say this, and would wish people to try whether I am not right in saying so, not to call attention to my labor in the matter, but because it may be well to notice how difficult it is to report any thing truly. Were this better known, it might be an aid to charity, and prevent some of those feuds which grow out of the poverty of man's powers to express, to apprehend, to represent, rather than out of any malignant part of his nature. But I must not go on moralizing. I almost feel that Ellesmere is looking over my shoulder and breaking into my discourse with sharp words, which I have lately been so much accustomed to.

I had expected that we should have many more readings this summer, as I knew that Milverton had prepared more essays for us. But finding, as he said, that the other subjects he

had in hand were larger than he had anticipated, or was prepared for, he would not read even to us what he had written. Though I was very sorry for this, for I may not be the chronicler in another year, I could not but say he was right. Indeed, my ideas of literature, nourished as they have been in much solitude and by the reading, if I may say so, mainly of our classical authors, are very high placed, though I hope not fantastical. And, therefore, I would not discourage any one in expending whatever thought and labor might be in him upon any literary work.

In fine, then, I did not attempt to dissuade Milverton from his purpose of postponing our readings; and we agreed that there should only be one more for the present. I wished it to be at our favorite place on the lawn, which had become endeared to me, as the spot of many of our friendly councils.

It was later than usual when I came over to Worth-Ashton for this reading; and as I gained the brow of the hill, some few clouds tinged with red were just grouping together to form the accustomed pomp upon the exit of the setting sun. I believe I mentioned in the introduction to our first conversation, that the ruins of an old castle could be seen from our place of meeting. Milverton and Ellesmere were talking about it as I joined them.