DOMESTIC SCENERY OF NEW ENGLAND. xiii 



dence. In Europe no such objects are to be seen. There the 

 houses of the peasantry are not scattered in this charmingly 

 picturesque manner over the land. They are huddled to- 

 gether in cantonments, like the Irish houses in the suburbs of 

 our cities, seldom leaving any space for a garden, and render- 

 ing neatness and cleanliness impossible. 



The plain and economical system of agriculture still pre- 

 vailing in many parts of the country, where the only changes 

 that have been adopted are improvements in tillage and im- 

 plements, has left the face of nature undespoiled of its native 

 embroidery by the vandalism of taste. Here the country is 

 still charming to every philanthropist. We may walk, in many 

 parts, over a distance of several miles of such landscape, in- 

 terspersed with hundreds of plain houses and their workshops, 

 as beautiful as they are plain and simple, and as picturesque 

 as the wild vines that trail over their fences. But these 

 charming scenes are rapidly disappearing, and in the same 

 ratio is village landscape growing ostentatious and insipid, 

 showing forth the vanity of the owners and artists, and con- 

 cealing the occupations and all the interesting habits of the 

 villagers under a vapid counterfeit of the fashions of cities. 



There are few things more agreeable in village scenery than 

 the evidences of independent labor as distinguished from 

 associated labor under an overseer. Hence the beauty of 

 those little shoemaker's shops, formerly so numerous in the 

 country, and, on the other hand, the gloomy appearance of 

 large buildings for manufactures. Even if there were proof 

 that the operatives in the employ of a capitalist are as com- 

 fortable, as thrifty, and as happy as if they were independent 

 workmen, we still associate subordinate labor with the ambi- 

 tious striving of a few at the expense of the many. A factory 

 village, where the homes of those who labor are in large tene- 

 ment-blocks, and the only houses outside of the village are 

 the ornate residences of masters and superintendents, is vapid 

 and uninteresting. Farm labor is rapidly losing its indepen- 

 dent character in a similar way, by the gradual absorption of 

 agricultural property into the hands of wealthy mortgagees, 



