Endowed with natural abilities above the average, which had been cultivated during nine years in Italy, and fortified by the most powerful patronage of the age, it is no wonder that Kent was able to cut a good figure in the world of art. He became the fashionable decorator of the time in many directions, especially in relation to great houses and their surroundings. Walpole had a poor opinion of him as a painter, admired him as an architect, and praised him highly as a garden designer. To us in the present day he appears as a man of considerable ability and culture, who seldom rose above mediocrity, especially in his architecture, which, however sound and correct, is wanting in vivacity. Holkham is a case in point. There is nothing novel about the plan (Fig. 188), save that the wings are closer to the main building than usual; but in spite of this the kitchen is a long way from the dining-room. The rooms are not particularly striking: the finest are the entrance hall, and the sculpture gallery or “statue gallery,” as it is called on the plan in “Vitruvius Britannicus.” The house was designed for the reception of the numerous works of art which the owner and builder, Thomas Coke (afterwards created Earl of Leicester), collected in Italy. The collection of pictures, statues, antiques, books, and manuscripts ranks among the finest in England. The opinions of critics on the house are by no means unanimous. Sir William Chambers, for instance, remarks how difficult it is to give pleasing proportions to rooms of differing sizes, but which are all of the same height, and so to arrange the smaller as to contrive suitable mezzanines above them. “Holkham,” he says, “is a masterpiece in this respect, as well as in many others. It deserves much commendation, and does credit to the memory of Mr. Kent, it being exceedingly well contrived both for state and convenience.”[74] Ferguson, on the other hand, says: “We are left to conjecture whether the noble host and hostess sleep in a bedroom 40 ft. high, or are relegated like their guests to a garret or an outhouse, or perhaps may have their bedroom windows turned inwards on a lead flat.” He goes on to say that although the house may be “a monumental whole, yet the occupants would probably prefer rooms of appropriate dimensions, where they could get fresh air and a view of the park.”[75] Both opinions are, or were, probably right. At the time it was built, and for the wants of that period, Holkham was no doubt both convenient and stately. But Ferguson’s criticisms find a ready echo in our own bosoms, and they are a measure of the difference between the ideas of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries as to domestic comfort.