MELLOW ENGLAND. 1 59 



religious architecture, and bringing it into harmony 

 with nature. 



Our climate has a much keener edge, both of frost 

 and fire, and touches nothing so gently or creatively ; 

 yet time would, no doubt, do much for our architect- 

 ure, if we would give it a chance — for that apotheosis 

 of prose, the National Capitol at Washington, upon 

 which, I notice, a returned traveller bases our claim to 

 be considered " ahead " of the Old World, even in ar- 

 chitecture ; but the reigning gods interfere, and each 

 spring or fall give the building a clean shirt, in the 

 shape of a coat of white paint. In like manner, other 

 public buildings never become acclimated, but are an- 

 nually scoured with soap and sand, the national 

 passion for the brightness of newness interfering to 

 defeat any benison which the gods might be disposed 

 to pronounce upon them. Spotlessness, I know, is not 

 a characteristic of our politics, though it is said that 

 whitewashing is, which may account for this ceaseless 

 paint-pot renovation of our public buildings. In a 

 world lit only by the moon our Capitol would be a par- 

 agon of beauty, and the spring whitewashing could also 

 be endured ; but under our blazing sun and merciless 

 sky it parches the vision, and makes it turn with a feel- 

 ing of relief to rocks and trees, or to some weather- 

 stained, dilapidated shed or hovel. 



How winningly and picturesquely in comparison the 

 old architecture of London addresses itself to the eye 

 — St. Paul's Cathedral, for instance, with its vast 



