BREAKING BULK AT STOWE.
STowB still resounds to the hammer of the auctioneer ; the sale being endless. The catalogue of curiosities, works of art, furni- ture, &c., reads more like the inventory of a dealer in verta than that of a private residence. The place was a museum, only not scientifically arranged, and not accessible to the public. All the ruinously lavish expenditure was devoted to a collection which was after all too large for individual enjoyment. The veriest en- thusiast in art or upholstery cannot daily glow with admiration at the whole contents of a warehouse. What enjoyment, then, was extracted from this immense mass of materials ? A very poor Proportion, we imagine. A vast amount of a3sthetic capital was locked up without profit—was all invested to do little more than fill the ducal bosom with a vague and vain pride of possession. A fragment of the park, a section of the house, a single group of the statuary, might have sufficed to fill a large space in the enjoy- ment of any mind open to impressions of beauty : the very amassing of so much might almost be taken to prove how dull Was the sense for which a very small portion would not suffice. The ruin, therefore, which all will regret for its personal mortifi- cations, is not an unmixed evil. This vast collection of materials for enjoyment is diffused abroad, and will fructify. For one eye that rested on each chef d'ceuvre, hundreds perhaps thousands, will now gaze, and each with a fuller amplitude of gratification.
Philosophic Epicureans have before remarked, that the owner of property which he does not enjoy does not really possess it—it
is not his : at the most, he only keeps out others, so that he can get no further than the sense of their privation ; a very poor species of indulgence. But such accumulations as that at Stowe, which oppress and overlay the sense, fortify the old lesson, that moderation is needed for the truest enjoyment. We may dis- cover that truth it priori, by the consideration that in order to perfect enjoyment we need not only sufficient external materials, but also the free play of our own functions; which is not possible if we give them too much to do. The plethora of a surfeit con- verts the feast to a nauseous poison, because the gustative and digestive part of the affair is over-tasked. Fully to comprehend and therefore to enjoy a work of art, needs concentrated attention and prolonged contemplation. Time and leisure are needed tho- roughly to assimilate the ideas of beauty. The poor and mode- rate man of cesthetical vigour, who comprehends and takes in the rare work of art as it crosses his path, attains to a fulness of pos- session which is wanting to the mere owner.
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