During the lifetime of the late peer, Holland House obtained a certain degree of fame as the occasional rendezvous of the wits of the age; and the fêtes at which they were assembled furnished brilliant themes for the exercise of poetical talent; but the records of genius there fostered and encouraged are singularly few. The historian, the poet, the artist, and the man of science, became guests in the mansion when they had acquired fame, but those who were achieving greatness, and stood in need of “patronage,” were not permitted to share its enjoyments and advantages. The grounds and gardens of Holland House have been skilfully and tastefully laid out; the trees are remarkably fine, and give a character of delicious solitude to the place, keeping away all thought of the vast city, the distant hum of which is at all times audible; and, although “prospects fresh and fair” are in a great degree shut out, imagination may easily follow the steps of Addison into this calm retreat, and quote the lines of Tickell on the poet’s death, as applicable to the present day as they were to a century back:-- “Thou hill, whose brow the antique structures grace, Rear’d by bold chiefs of Warwick’s noble race; Why, scene so lov’d! where’er thy bower appears, O’er my dim eyeballs glance the sudden tears? How sweet were once thy prospects fresh and fair, Thy sloping walks, and unpolluted air! How sweet the gloom beneath thy aged trees, Thy noontide shadow, and thy evening breeze; His image thy forsaken bowers restore, Thy walks and airy prospects charm no more. No more the summer in thy glooms allay’d, Thy evening breezes and thy noon-day shade!” The prospect, however, notwithstanding the multiplicity of houses by which the grounds are surrounded, is not all destroyed; vistas are here and there formed between the trees, which command extensive views; and garden-seats still exist, to wile the visitor into “shady places,” where the hill of Harrow and other striking objects are seen in the distance, while the surrounding shadow enhances the value of the bright scene beyond:-- “For loftie trees, y’clad with summer’s pride, Did spread so broad, that heaven’s light did hide, Not pierceable with power of any starre; And all within are paths and alleies wide, With footinge worne, and leading inward farre.” But judgment, tastefully exercised, has made many openings among those thick woods; and those who wander among them enjoy the feelings of entire solitude--a feeling augmented if the time be evening; for, as we have intimated, although scarcely two miles distant from the heart of London, here the nightingale “Supplies the night with mournful strains, And melancholy music fills the plains.” [Illustration]