PUBLIC IMPROVEMENTS. 205 PUBLIO IMPROVEMENTS. WHAT are possessions? To an individual, the stores of his own heart and mind pre-eminently. His truth and valour are among the first. His contentedness, or his resignation, may be put next. Then his sense of beauty, surely a possession of great moment to him. Then all those mixed possessions which result from the social affections, great possessions, unspeakable delights, much greater than the gift last mentioned in the former class, but held on more uncertain tenure. Lastly, what are generally called possessions. However often we have heard of the vanity, uncertainty, and vexation that beset these last, we must not let this repetition deaden our minds to the fact. Now, national possessions must be estimated by the same gradation that we have applied to individual possessions. If we consider national luxury, we shall see how small a part it may add to national happiness. Men of deserved renown, and peerless women, have lived upon what we should now call the coarsest fare, and paced the rushes in their rooms with as high, or as contented thoughts, as their better-fed and better-clothed descendants can boast of. Man is limited in this direction; I mean in the things that concern his personal gratification: but, when you come to the higher enjoyments, the expansive power both in him and them is greater. As Keats says, A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. What, then, are a nation's possessions? The great words that have been said in it; the great deeds that have been done in it; the great buildings and the great works of art that have been made in it. A man says a noble saying: it is a possession, first to his own race, then to mankind. A people get a noble building built for them it is an honour to them, also a daily delight and instruction. It perishes. The remembrance of it is still a possession. If it was indeed pre-eminent, there will be more pleasure in thinking of it than in being with others of inferior order and design. On the other hand, a thing of ugliness is potent for evil. It de forms the taste of the thoughtless: it frets the man who knows how bad it is it is a disgrace to the nation who raised it; an example and an occasion for more monstrosities. If it is a great building in a great city, thousands of people pass it daily, and are the worse for it, or at least not the better. It must be done away with. Next to the folly of doing a bad thing is that of fearing to undo it. We must not look at what it has cost, but at what it is. Millions may be spent upon some foolish device which will not the more make it into a possession, but only a more noticeable detriment. It must not be supposed that works of art are the only, or the chief, public improvements needed in any country. Wherever men congregate, the elements become scarce. The supply of air, light, and water is then a matter of the highest public importance; and the magnificent utilitarianism of the Romans should precede the nice sense of beauty of the Greeks. Or rather, the former should be worked out in the latter. Sanitary improvements, like most good works, may be made to fulfil many of the best human objects. Charity, social order, conveniency of living, and the love of the Beautiful may all be furthered by such improvements. A people are seldom so well employed as when, not suffering their attention to be absorbed by foreign quarrels and domestic broils, they bethink themselves of winning back those blessings of Nature which assemblages of men mostly vitiate, exclude, or destroy. To return to works of art. In this the genius of the people is to be heeded. There may have been, there may be, nations requiring to be diverted from the love of art to stern labour and industrial conquests. But certainly it is not so with the Anglo-Saxon race, or with the Northern races generally. Money may enslave them; logic may enslave them; art never will. The chief men, therefore, in these races will do well sometimes to contend against the popular current, and to convince their people that there are other sources of delight, and other objects worthy of human endeavour, than severe money-getting or mere material successes of any kind. In fine, the substantial improvement, and even the embellishment of towns is a work which both the central and local governing bodies in a country should keep a steady hand upon. It especially concerns them. What are they there for, but to do that which individuals cannot do? It concerns them, too, as it tells upon the health, morals, education, and refined pleasures of the ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 207 people they govern. In doing it, they should avoid pedantry, parsimony, and favouritism; and their mode of action should be large, considerate, and foreseeing. Large; inasmuch as they must not easily be contented with the second-best in any of their projects. Considerate; inasmuch as they have to think what their people need most, not what will make most show. And therefore they should be contented, for instance, at their work going on under ground for a time, or in by-ways, if needful; the best charity in public works, as in private, being often that which courts least notice. Lastly, their works should be with foresight; recollecting that cities grow up about us, like young people, before we are aware 17 Their lot forbade; nor circumscribed alone 18 The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, 19 Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 20 Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, 21 Their names, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. and 6 For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, No children run to lisp their sire's return, 7 Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, of air, importance; 8 Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys and destiny obscure; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple anr or the Romans should precede the nice sense of beauty of the Greeks. Or rather, the former should be worked out in the latter. Sanitary improvements, like most good works, may be made to fulfil many of the best human objects. Charity, social order, conveniency of living, and the love of the Beautiful may all be furthered by such improvements. A people are seldom so well employed as when, not suffering their attention to be absorbed by foreign quarrels and domestic broils, they bethink themselves of winning back those blessings of Nature which assemblages of men mostly vitiate, exclude, or destroy. To return to works of art. In this the genius of the people is to be heeded. There may have been, there may be, nations requiring to be diverted from the love of art to stern labour and industrial conquests. But certainly it is not so with the Anglo-Saxon race, or with the Northern races generally. Money may enslave them; logic may enslave them; art never will. The chief men, therefore, in these races will do well sometimes to contend against the popular current, and to convince their people that there are other sources of delight, and other objects worthy of human endeavour, than severe money-getting or mere material successes of any kind. In fine, the substantial improvement, and even the embellishment of towns is a work which both the central and local governing bodies in a country should keep a steady hand upon. It especially concerns them. What are they there for, but to do that which individuals cannot do? It concerns them, too, as it tells upon the health, morals, education, and refined pleasures of the ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 14 Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark, unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; 15 Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast 16 Th' applause of listening senates to command, 17 Their lot forbade ; nor circumscribed alone 18 The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, 19 Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 20 Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, 21 Their names, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse, And many a holy text around she strews, |