14 DIVERSIONS OF A NATURALIST 



have been knocked to pieces by emancipated country- 

 folk — no longer restrained either by superstition or by 

 reverence — to mend roads and to make enclosures. 



Happily the new self-consciousness is taking note of 

 these things. That strange lumbering body which we 

 call " the mother of parliaments " has dimly reflected the 

 better thought of the community, and given a feeble sort 

 of protection to ancient monuments. The newspapers 

 have lately managed to excite some public interest in a 

 fine old house in Dean Street, Soho, and to arouse a 

 feeling of shame that the richest city in the richest 

 Empire of the world should allow the few remnants of 

 beautiful things of the past still existing in its midst to 

 be destroyed by the uncontrolled operation of mercenary 

 " progress." I have, in common with many others, 

 visited this doomed mansion. It is a charming old 

 place, of no great size or importance, and, with its well- 

 proportioned panelled rooms and fine staircase, was 

 destined to be a private residence. It is not large 

 enough to be a museum, but its rooms might serve for 

 the show place of a first-rate maker or vender of things 

 of fine workmanship. There ought to be some public 

 authority — municipal or departmental — with power to 

 acquire such interesting houses as this, not necessarily 

 to convert them into permanent public shows, but to 

 keep them in repair, and to let them on lease, at a 

 reasonable rent, to tenants, subject to the condition of 

 their being open on certain days in the year to artists 

 and others provided with orders of admission by the 

 authority. In other countries such arrangements are 

 made ; with us they are not made simply because we 

 have not assigned to any authority the duty of acting 

 in this way for the public benefit. Our public authorities 

 have little or no public spirit, and resemble private com- 



