It is in vain to tell him that we are now all within ourselves; that every body is surprised to see how snug we are; and that nobody can suspect so many temples, and groves, and terraces, and ascents, and descents, and clumps, and shrubberies, and vistas, and glades, and dells, and canals, and statues, and rocks, and ruins are in existence, till they are in the very midst of them. And then! Oh how have I enjoyed their admiration! Nothing is so great a pleasure to me as to bring a gentleman of taste, who knows how to be struck with what he sees, and set him down in the middle of one of my great gravel walks! For all the world allows, Abimelech, that our gravel walks at Wenbourne-Hill are some of the broadest, the straightest, and the finest in the kingdom. Yet observe how men differ, Abimelech. Sir Alexander wants me to turf them over! He says that, where you may have the smooth verdure, gravel walks are ridiculous; and are only tolerable in common pathways, where continual treading would wear away the greensward. But I know what has given him such a love for the soft grass. Sir Alexander is gouty, and loves to tread on velvet. Beside he is a cynic. He blames all we have done, and says he would render one of the deserts of Arabia the garden of Eden, with the money we have wasted in improving Wenbourne-Hill; which he affirms, before we touched it, was one of the most beautiful spots in the three kingdoms. I confess, Aby, that, if as I said I did not know him to be a cynic, I should be heartily vexed. But it either is, or at any rate it shall be, one of the most beautiful spots in the three kingdoms, ay or in the whole world! Of that I am resolved; so go on with your work, Abimelech. Do not be idle. The love of fame is a noble passion; and the name of Arthur St. Ives shall be remembered at Wenbourne-Hill, long after his remains are laid in their kindred clay, as the poet says. I desired your son Frank to accompany us to London. He is a spirited young fellow, and behaved well on the road, where he had an affair with a highwayman, and got a slight wound; but he is in no danger. He is a fine fellow, a brave fellow, and an honour to you, honest Aby. Some grounds which I saw on my journey, with water purling, meandering, and occasionally dashing down a steep declivity, or winding along a more gentle descent, as it happened to be, suggested an idea to me. It came into my mind that, as we lie high, if we had but a lake sufficiently large on the top of the hill, we could send the water down in rivulets on every side. But then the difficulty struck me how to get it up again. Perhaps it may be overcome. It would have a charming effect, and we will think of it hereafter.