34 LOVES MEINIE, 



After the feather of the robin's wing, let us examine 

 one from his breast. 



33. I said, just now, he might be at once outshone 

 by a brickbat. Indeed, the day before yesterday, 

 sleeping at Lichfield, and seeing, the first thing when 

 I woke in the morning, (for I never put down the 

 blinds of my bedroom windows,) the not uncommon 

 sight in an English country town of an entire house- 

 front of very neat, and very flat, and very red 

 bricks, with very exactly squared square windows 

 in it ; and not feeling myself in anywise gratified 

 or improved by the spectacle, I was thinking how 

 in this, as in all other good, the too much destroyed 

 all. The breadth of a robin's breast in brick-red 

 is delicious, but a whole house-front of brick-red as 

 vivid, is alarming. And yet one cannot generalize 

 even that trite moral with any safety — for infinite 

 breadth of green is delightful, however green ; and 

 of sea or sky, however blue. 



You must note, however, that the robin's charm 

 is greatly helped by the pretty space of grey 

 plumage which separates the red from the brown 

 back, and sets it off to its best advantage. There 

 is no great brilliancy in it, even so relieved ; only 

 the finish of it is exquisite. 



34. If you separate a single feather, you will find it 

 more like a transparent hollow shell than a feather 



