Page:Romance & Reality 2.pdf/218

216 brick house, well closed in with wall and hedge;—a few miles farther, the dislocating town of Brentford, driven through at the risk of the joints of your frame and the springs of your carriage, which George II. pronounced so beautiful—it was "so like Yermany." So much for taste, and the doctrine of association. Those fit gates for a summer palace, the light and airy arches which lead to Sion House, passed also, the country begins to take an air of town—houses and gardens are smaller—single blessedness is rarer—turnpikes more frequent—and terraces, places, and crescents, are many in number;—then the town of Kensington, small and mean, looking a century behind its neighbourhood. The road now becomes a noble and a wide one. On foot, and by daylight, the brick walls on either side are dreary enough; but at night they only give depth to the shadow, and the eye catches the lighted windows and the stately roofs of the houses they enclose. To my own individual taste, these are the most delightful of dwellings, close upon the park for drives, close upon the streets for dinners, enclosed, large, and to themselves, having as much of rural felicity within their walls as I at least desire; that is