re, and through every variety which fancy may
suggest. There never was, and never can be, a universal _beau ideal_ in
architecture, and the arrival at all local models of beauty would be the
task of ages; but we can always, in some degree, determine those of our
own lovely country. We cannot, however, in the present case, pass from
the contemplation of the villa of a totally different climate, to the
investigation of what is beautiful here, without the slightest reference
to styles now or formerly adopted for our own "villas," if such they are
to be called; and therefore it will be necessary to devote a short time
to the observance of the peculiarities of such styles, if we possess
them; or, if not, of the causes of their absence.

148. We have therefore headed this paper "The Villa, England;"
awakening, without doubt, a different idea in the mind of every one who
reads the words. Some, accustomed to the appearance of metropolitan
villas, will think of brick buildings, with infinite appurtenances of
black nicked chimney-pots, and plastered fronts, agreeably varied with
graceful cracks, and undulatory shades of pink, brown, and green,
communicated to the cement by smoky showers. Others will imagine large,
square, many-windowed masses of white, set with careful choice of
situation exactly where they will spoil the landscape to such a
conspicuous degree, as to compel the gentlemen traveling on the outside
of the mail to inquire of the guard, with great eagerness, "whose place
that is;" and to enable the guard to reply with great distinctness, that
it belongs to Squire ----, to the infinite gratification of Squire ----,
and the still more infinite edification of the gentlemen on the outside
of the mail. Others will remember masses of very red brick, quoined with
stone; with columnar porticoes, about one-third of the height of the
building, and two niches, with remarkable looking heads and bag-wigs in
them, on each side; and two teapots, with a pocket-handkerchief hanging
over each (described to the astonished spectator as "Grecian urns")
located upon the roof, just under the chimneys. Others will go back to
the range of Elizabethan gables; but none will have any idea of a fixed
character, stamped on a class of national edifices. This is very
melancholy, and very discouraging; the more so, as it is not without
cause.

149. In the first place, Britain unites in itself so many geological
formations, each giving a peculiar cha