It may seem unnecessary to direct the attention of the public again either to this volume or its subject, both of which have already engaged the public attention to a degree greatly beyond their value and importance; but Sir Henry, with all his foppery and parade of decorating parks, approaches, and lawns, and all that sort of chateau millinery, has now and then risen above his subject, and not only given us several hints useful in rural economy, but has also pretensions to have brought out some facts hitherto but imperfectly known, and to have traced them to general principles. {227} It is curious to remark of how much greater importance the elder part of society—those upon whom wealth has at length devolved, are generally held. Any device, however trifling, which can in any way divert the fancy, pamper the lingering senses, or patch up the body of our second childhood, is infinitely more useful to the discoverer, and meets with higher patronage and more eclat, than what is of a thousand times more consequence to the young. Now, if this were the fruit of filial love, all would be very well—we would idolize the picture: but when we see these discoveries only patronized by the old themselves, in the merest egotism, we blush for our patriarchs, and wonder if time and suffering will be spent as unprofitably upon ourselves. We wonder much what fascination can exist to a mind of so much ability and culture as that of Sir Henry Steuart, in decorating a few dull unprofitable acres,—causing a few bushes and bush-like trees to change place from one side of a dull green to the other!—laying digested plans of action, embracing a great number of years, to accomplish this very important feat, which most probably the next heir will make _the business of his life_ to undo, by turning them back to their old quarters, if he does not, with more wisdom, grub them out {228} altogether as cumberers of the soil! For ourselves, we would rather _baa_ with the silly sheep, and nibble the turf, than pass our time in acting over this most pitiful trifling, or in publishing a memorial of our shame. We know not how others are affected, but there is no other place on earth where we have felt such oppression and weariness, as in the extensive smoothed park and lawns around the country seat. We sicken under the uniformity of the heavy-looking round-headed trees,—the dulness of the flat fat pasture, undecorated by a single weed,—the quiet stupid physiognomy of the cattle,—the officiousness of the sleek orderly menial. It may be we are very destitute of taste in this; here every thing is experiencing satiety of sensual enjoyment, is full to repletion; every thing has been sedulously arranged to please, and we ought certainly to admire; but we have no sympathy with such a scene.