“Now, of what mortal use,” he would say to Mr. Woodburn, as he rode over his farm, or through the neighbourhood with him,—“of what mortal use are these little shapeless crofts and paddocks with their fences running in all sorts of ways but straight lines,—these little, often triangular plots, with their meandering huge hawthorn hedges, actually turning and doubling on themselves? Sweep all these crooked, scrambling fences away, and have some fine, large, shapely pastures instead. And here is a brook now—do look at it. Would any one have supposed, with the present value of land, that it should be allowed to turn and twine about as it does, forming what the Scotch call links, and as we may call them bows and loops, positively occupying three times the ground which it would if reduced to a straight, handsome course, as it soon might be?” Mr. Woodburn replied “that in truth they might remove some of the rambling fences, and enlarge those little plots to advantage, but he should be sorry to see all those beautiful hawthorn hedges now throwing out their odorous sprays of wild roses and eglantine, cut close like the cropped bristly head of a parish pauper.” “Beauty!” said Mr. Trant Drury,—“beauty! My dear sir, we cannot live by beauty. We cannot pay rent by beauty. The interests of this densely populated country cannot be maintained by empty notions of beauty. When you want to go to market with your produce, see what your crop of beauty will bring you. No, sir; as much corn, cattle, hay, potatoes, and the like substantials, for which we labour, and from which we must hope to live, as you please. The greatest possible return for the greatest possible amount of labour and skill expended;—that is my doctrine and my practice; and they are the only principles that will in the long run make this country what it ought to be.” “But man cannot live by bread alone,” said Mr. Woodburn; “that is a principle established by an authority which I hope, Mr. Drury, you consider as of as much validity as your modern save-all doctrine.” “I bow to the wisdom of our Lord,” said Mr. Drury; “but what He undoubtedly meant was, not your visionary thing beauty, but divine grace,—‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word which proceedeth out of the mouth of God.’”