and lost to the world. On the warm tiles of the central building, some vines may be trained; and the produce of these, and every part of the garden, such as fruits and flowers, may be exposed to sale on the public road, and the profits of these commodities might be the reward of extraordinary industry, or good behaviour.

In this plan there is no pretension to ornament in any respect that may incur unnecessary expense, except, perhaps, in the small cupola for the bell; and this appendage, trifling as it is, gives to the whole that characteristic feature which distinguishes it as a public building.

To you, my dear Edward, it is unnecessary to remark one circumstance, which you may, perhaps, find an opportunity of inculcating to your parishioners; that, in providing for the future comforts of the poor, they may possibly be anticipating the future happiness of themselves, or their descendants; since we too often see the hard-hearted opulent oppressor, in the vicissitudes of life, reduced to look for support to those public institutions to which he has reluctantly contributed.*

It may, perhaps, be objected to the design, that something more ornamental might have been proposed, perhaps adopting the Gothic style; but the answer is obvious, the first consideration in a poor-house is economy.

The prevailing taste for fragments of Gothic architecture is apt to display itself in the doors and windows of a dairy, for which there can be no plausible reason assigned; but, if the Gothic character be introduced in any small building, there is none more appropriate than the schools, either public or private, which, of late, have been erected, sometimes by the parishes, and sometimes by individuals, as ornamental appendages to their parks; under the latter circumstances, a more costly design may be recommended. Having made several for this purpose, one of them is annexed (see vignette p. 563), which has been proposed for a school, endowed and patronized by Mrs. Burton, at Longnor, near Shrewsbury.

This plan was, at first, highly approved by the leading persons in the parish, till it was discovered that the situation proposed was so desirable, that the site, occupied in private houses, would produce more profit, and, therefore, the poor, for the present, continue in their former unwholesome abode; but, as a late orator observed of negro slaves, compared with eels flayed alive" they are used to it."

FRAGMENT XXXVI.

HARESTREET.

OF QUANTITY AND APPROPRIATION.

ALTHOUGH, during a long and active life, my efforts have contributed to the happiness of some hundred individuals, and the employment of some thousands; I trust, that not a single instance can be adduced in which useless expenditure was advised, for unreasonable gratification of vanity; but wealth is never so well employed, as in improvements that display the genius of art, and call into active employment the labourer and artificer. To demonstrate the little consequence of quantity or value, when speaking of the beauty of scenery, many places have been mentioned, which may, perhaps, appear too inconsiderable in a work that treats of dukedoms and royal domains: but I wish to evince, that, in many cases, great effect may be produced by a very contracted quantity of land, and, not unfrequently, that almost everything depends on the foreground. Thus, in the villas on the margin of the lake of Geneva (like that of Gibbon), nothing more is necessary than a terrace, or a few shrubs and flowers, to form a frame to the picture: thus, also, it frequently happens, that, by the enclosure of a common, or the grant of a small piece of land from a forest, the most essential benefit may be derived, although the quantity of land acquired be very trifling; and I have often observed, that the cupidity natural on such occasions, generally leads to the obtaining more land than can be rendered useful; since it is either too small to be fed, or too large to be kept under the scythe and roller.

In my former volume, I used the word appropriation, to describe that sort of command over the landscape, visible from the windows, which denotes it to be private property belonging to the place.

A view into a square, or into the parks, may be cheerful and beautiful, but it wants appropriation; it wants that charm which only belongs to ownership, the exclusive right of enjoyment, with the power of refusing that others should share our pleasure: and, however painful the reflection, this pro

pensity is part of human nature. I have too frequently witnessed a greater satisfaction in turning a public road, in stopping a foot-path, or in hiding a view by a pale and a screen, than in the most beautiful improvements to the scenery; and sometimes have contended in vain against the firs and poplars, which, on the verge of a forest, presented more agreeable objects to the proprietor than the scenery of the forest itself; one acknowledged that he would rather look at a young sapling of his own, than the most venerable oaks belonging to the Crown.

The propensity for appropriation and exclusive enjoyment is so prevalent, that, in my various intercourse with proprietors of land, I have rarely met with those who agreed with me in preferring the sight of mankind to that of herds of cattle, or the moving objects in a public road, to the dull monotony of lawns and woods. Of these few, I cannot resist mentioning one venerable nobleman, who enjoyed health, cheerfulness, and benevolent feelings, more than eighty years, retaining to the last his predilection for the scenery of a garden, rather than that of a park; and who used, at his villa, on Ham Common, to enjoy the sight of the public passengers from his garden-seat, surrounded by roses. To this rare instance of benevolence in the noble Viscount Torrington, may be added that of his friend and cotemporary, the late Duke of Portland, who gave leave to all persons to pass through the park at Bulstrode, and even encouraged the neighbouring inhabitants to play at cricket on the lawn. How different is this from the too common orders given at the gates and lodges of new places, recently purchased by strangers, and only visible to themselves and their own inmates! For the honour of the country, let the parks and pleasure-grounds of England be ever open, to cheer the hearts, and delight the eyes, of all who have taste to enjoy the beauties of nature. It was, formerly, one of the pleasures of life to make tours of picturesque inquiry; and to visit the improvements in different parts of the kingdom: this is now changed to the residence at a wateringplace, where the dissipation of a town life is cultivated in a continual round of idle, heartless society; without that home which formerly endeared the life of a family in the country. And, after all, the most romantic spot, the most picturesque

situations, and the most delightful assemblage of nature's choicest materials, will not long engage our interest, without some appropriation; something we can call our own; and if not our own property, at least, it may be endeared to us by calling it our own home.

I will conclude these Fragments with the most interesting subject I have ever known; it is the view [figs. 252 and 253],

(Fig. 252. View from Mr. Repton's cottage, at Harestreet, before it was improved.]

from the humble cottage to which, for more than thirty years, I have anxiously retreated from the pomp of palaces, the elegances of fashion, or the allurements of dissipation: it stood originally within five yards of a broad part of the high road: this area was often covered with droves of cattle, of pigs, or geese [see fig. 252]. I obtained leave to remove the paling twenty yards further from the windows; and, by this appropriation of twenty-five yards of garden, I have obtained a frame to my landscape; the frame is composed of flowering shrubs and evergreens; beyond which are seen, the cheerful village, the high road, and that constant moving scene, which I would not exchange for any of the lonely parks that I have improved for others [see fig. 253]. Some of their proprietors, on viewing the scene I have described, have questioned my taste; but my answer has always been, that, in improving places for others, I must consult their inclinations; at Hare

street, I follow my own. Others prefer still life-I delight in movement; they prefer lawns fed by their own cattle-I love to see mankind; they derive pleasure from seeing the sheep and oxen fatten, and calculate on the produce of their beef and mutton: perhaps, they might not object to the butcher's shop, which I have taken some pains to hide, giving the preference to a basket of roses. This specimen may serve to shew how much may be effected by the foreground; how a very

small object, aptly placed near the eye, may hide an offensive object ten times as large; whilst a hedge of roses and sweetbriars may hide the dirt of a road, without concealing the moving objects which animate the landscape. Such is the lesson of quantity and appropriation. And, as I have now approached near the end of my labours, and am still permitted, though with difficulty, to collect my thoughts on a subject most interesting to my feelings, I will add a lesson of far greater moment. When I first appeared before the public, in 1794, in a work which has long been out of print ["Hints, &c." pp. 25, 26], the Introduction began with these words:

"My opinions on the general principles of landscape gar"dening have been diffused in separate MS. volumes, as op