Chapter II: Part 2

For it is the bungalow craze, with all that it now implies, which has most seriously damaged the appearance of rural England during the last eight years. There is nothing inherently unpleasant in the bungalow type of house. Properly designed and constructed, it may be made a thing of beauty harmonising perfectly with its surroundings. But, to my mind, its advantages have been grossly exaggerated. On the count of cost, the primary consideration nowadays, it shows no superiority over the two-floor house; reasonable privacy for its bedrooms is secured with difficulty; and it is apt to sprawl over the ground. One cannot quite realise why it has been so much favoured in recent years; possibly it is merely a transient fashion, like face-powder or crinolines. There was a great and a genuine demand for houses after the War, which had to be satisfied. Nine people out of ten took what they could get, and they got bungalows. For the most part their _ménage_ consisted of husband, wife, and a two-seater. Neither servants nor children entered into the picture. There was a prejudice against everything connected with the pre-War period, especially with its social distinctions, and perhaps the ex-service man sought for the antithesis of the suburban villa. Accustomed for four years to scenes of ruin and to leaky Army huts, his mind readily accepted the slap-dash bungalow with its familiar barbed-wire fence and no-man’s-land of a garden. The effect of flimsiness and impermanence that characterises so many of these little buildings may be ascribed to three causes: the difficulty of paying for a house _and_ a car out of an income that only provided a house before the War, the prevalent restlessness which almost rejects the idea of settling down in one place and letting oneself “take root,” and the insidious hold that the architecture of dumps and sheds had gained on the average man’s mind in 1914-18. His two-seater carried him out into what was (at first) the peace of the country, where land was cheap. Run up at express speed to satisfy an enormous demand, these bungalows spread out for miles along the roads adjoining the towns, thus avoiding the road-making charges that have to be met on an ordinary estate. And next this “ribbon” development continued far out into the country, so that people who had a slight surplus after meeting their hire-purchase payments for car and furniture could enjoy a sight of the sea on Saturday and Sunday from a bungalow perched on the Sussex cliffs. Thus this singular movement has had its main effect in rural districts, whose little Councils, with their often rudimentary by-laws, find the problem almost beyond their power to solve.

For these bungalows are for the most part designed without knowledge or taste, without regard to the tradition of English architecture or the claims of the English landscape. They are generally built of flimsy machine-made materials, largely imported from abroad. Yet they have satisfied a perfectly legitimate demand for accommodation, they have been erected honestly by builders and paid for by their owners, and they have so far complied with the laws of the land that they have earned a Government “subsidy” towards their cost. Hence the bungalow, which many of us regard as the motorist’s least acceptable gift to the countryside, constitutes a topic which must be criticised with extreme tact and caution.

There must be many beauty-spots in England that have been spoilt by motorists and charabancs since the War, but as a fair case one may cite X---- in Romney Marsh. A few years ago this was an artists’ paradise and a haven of peace. It has now become a glorified bus-park, where one is surrounded by petrol-pumps, garages, blatant exorbitant cafés run by loud-voiced aliens, “souvenir” shops full of Brummagem and German products, ice-carts, and innumerable direction-posts to “ladies’ cloak rooms.” All the charm of the place has gone in bribes to the tripper, and when he tires of it the ugliness will remain. When one sees a beautiful village or landscape prostituted to such ends, one wishes that the petrol-engine had never been invented.

But is ugliness an inevitable concomitant of motoring? Last April it was my good fortune to travel some 200 miles over the main roads of Tuscany. In that considerable distance I saw not a single petrol-station, and hardly a poster or a hoarding. The petrol-pumps must have been there, but at any rate they were not obtrusive enough to attract notice. Some people may say that the apparent absence of these accessories of civilisation furnishes an additional proof of Italian backwardness, others that the iron hand of Mussolini prevents progress; but to me, as a lover of Italy, it is a satisfaction that she has contrived to reconcile the legitimate needs of to-day with the beauty of her countryside.

V

THE FUTURE

The first part of this little book described rural England as it existed in its unsullied perfection, the second part the regrettable changes due mainly to the use of coal and petrol, and now we have to consider what prospect there is of saving the best of the old and making the best of the new. If “Rusticus” desires to preserve the remainder of his heritage, he must adopt some bolder policy than that of gazing at the flowing stream. Nor will the tactics of Canute serve his purpose: the tide of “civilisation” will not stop for him. There is every indication that it will flow with undiminished velocity in the coming years.

Our efforts must therefore be directed to two objects: the preservation of such relics of the past as are of recognised worth, and the regulation of all tendencies that are harmful to the beauty of the countryside. It is heartening to see, in the recent formation of the Council for the Preservation of Rural England, some public expression of interest in this vital matter. Without presuming to offer suggestions to so august a body, it is my purpose to set down in order the chief factors in the situation, present and future.

In a previous passage it has been remarked that ruin as such is a matter for regret, not for admiration. One might go a step further and say that old buildings are not necessarily good buildings. Strictly speaking, that is true, but is also dangerous doctrine. Nearly all old buildings _are_ good buildings, and when we find one that we are disposed to reckon as bad, we must not forget that the canons of architectural taste have always been fickle. In the eighteenth century Gothic buildings were ridiculed, and were treated accordingly. In the nineteenth, taste was completely reversed. On the other hand, certain architects of the Gothic Revival were so enamoured of a special variety of Gothic that they endeavoured to remould all old churches of any differing period nearer to their hearts’ desire. Hence the formation in 1877 of that body which is familiarly and even affectionately known as the “Anti-Scrape,” more precisely as the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings. It was founded by architects and others to protest against excessive zeal in “restoration” by architects and others, and has done a noble work. It is still maintained partly by architects, whose disinterested efforts in preserving old buildings are worthy of note because architects naturally depend for their living mainly on _new_ buildings. As its headquarters are in London, its work in other centres is most effectively done through the medium of a local committee. The essential qualifications for such a committee are taste and disinterestedness. Suppose that an old cottage or barn on a village street in Blankshire is threatened with demolition. If the matter is brought to the notice of the Blankshire local committee by any self-appointed (even anonymous) “informer,” that committee will offer an opinion, backed by the expert advice of the S.P.A.B., who may be able to suggest some alternative to demolition. Their knowledge of the technical details of restoration is unrivalled, especially as regards building materials suitable for use in an old structure. If the cottage is older than A.D. 1714 and of sufficient merit, the aid of the Ancient Monuments Commission may be invoked. Once such a building is scheduled as an “ancient monument,” the owner is deprived of his right to demolish or alter it, and its existence is safeguarded by the Government. Another means of frustrating base designs on an old building is to appeal to the National Trust for Places of Historic Interest or Natural Beauty, who may be induced to launch an appeal through the Press for funds to purchase it. At present they maintain over twenty buildings, including some which are of literary interest (e.g., Coleridge’s cottage) rather than of great antiquity. A third alternative is to enlist the sympathies of a local authority or a local philanthropist. In any case the delay in demolition caused by creating an outcry will serve a useful purpose, for a thoughtless owner may be led to reconsider his original intentions, and by so doing may find that the building may be preserved after all. The restoration of old buildings is much more practicable than any yet discovered use of monkey-gland is to old people. But of course there are cases,--and sentimentalists are apt to overlook this fact,--where an old building has no architectural merit, and simply must give way before the march of progress. It is difficult, too, to see how a man can be compelled to maintain a disused windmill. It may be added that bridges are among the “buildings” scheduled as “Ancient Monuments.”

As regards natural features, it must be generally known that the National Trust, already mentioned, has been very active during recent years in acquiring and preserving all manner of beauty-spots in England, including such various sites as the mountains of the Lake District, strategical points on the North and South Downs, river banks, hill-tops and cliff-tops all over the country. Unfortunately the era of enclosing commons is not yet over, and another organisation--the Commons and Footpaths Preservation Society--was founded in 1865 to further the excellent objects indicated by its title. It saved Epping Forest, Hampstead Heath, Wimbledon Common and many other familiar places for us, and continues to watch over the interests of all lovers of the country. But, like the other societies mentioned here, its activities are limited by its funds. However, we must remember that any district which has adopted a town-planning scheme can now invoke the majesty of the law to save its open spaces and natural features, for the first Schedule of the Town-Planning Act of 1925 includes a reference to “the preservation of objects of historical interest or natural beauty.”

There have been many recent agitations--notably in regard to Ken Wood, the Seven Sisters, the Devil’s Dyke, and the Darenth Valley--which have shown that, in the last extremity, the public will sometimes rise to the occasion when a beauty-spot is threatened.

Considering the narrowness of the average village High Street, and the concentration of its historical relics in its centre, there is much to be said for the construction of a “by-pass” road to carry through traffic round the village. Otherwise the village green, the pond, the stocks, the inns, and nearly all the old landmarks would have to go. Traders object in the case of the larger towns, but vested interests always turn up somewhere, and it seems fairly certain that the “by-pass” road meets the needs of the greater number besides preserving the old village intact. Eventually there will have to be a ring-road round all old cities, like Oxford, which stand at the intersection of important highways, or the concentration of traffic at the centre will become unmanageable.

We have hardly grown accustomed yet to the great new arterial roads, though several are already in use. They seem to me to represent one of our highest achievements in civil engineering as they sweep majestically through cuttings and over embankments with an uninterrupted width of a hundred feet or more. In some ways they are the biggest thing we have in England, out of scale with our doll’s-house villages and landscapes, and out of character with our little winding lanes. It will be years before the trees that line them turn them into magnificent avenues, but by that time we shall have learned to accept them and even to admire them. Presumably we shall see an end of telegraph-poles soon, and that will be all to the good. But there are other things that engineers might bear in mind. The great road that runs south-west from Birmingham to the Lickey Hills, a noble highway in width, is disfigured by tramway poles and wires. Is that necessary in 1927? Surely the petrol-engine, which has done much to spoil the country, can atone for some of its crimes here by taking the place of electrically driven vehicles?

In Birmingham, as in the narrow streets of Ipswich, and--still worse--in the beautiful Wharfedale valley, is to be seen a more frightful abortion, the “trackless tram.” There has been a proposal to extend this hideous system in Wharfedale on a broad highway cutting across some fine country. Surely motor-buses could serve every purpose that the lumbering trackless tram fulfils.

The new arterial roads start with a clean sheet: it is to be hoped that it will remain clean. Recently the Minister of Transport addressed a circular to local authorities, reminding them that, under the powers conferred on them by the Advertisement Regulation Act of 1907, they could take action in respect of unsightly advertisements along the great new arteries, and urging them to do so. One distinct advantage of modern road-construction is that the dust nuisance has practically ceased to exist. Another innovation that has recently appeared is a small black and white “lighthouse” at every important crossing. The Ministry of Transport might institute a competition for designs for these useful but not always beautiful accessories.

The question of road-development is inextricably bound up with the larger question of town-planning, on which I have touched already in another connection. Before approaching the vital matter of controlling the design of individual buildings, we must consider this wider aspect. The fact is that town-planning enthusiasts are disappointed with the progress made since the passing of the 1909 Act. We had hoped for more far-reaching results. The nation as a whole has failed to realise the importance of this question or the great responsibility that legislation has put upon all local authorities. Whether from the point of view of appearance, of health, or of mere business, town-planning is the only national method of providing for the future.

It is futile to write letters to _The Times_ about lost opportunities: common-sense would have saved the situation in nearly every case, for town-planning is idealised common-sense. People who have bought a house in a half-developed suburb wake up one morning to find a shop rising on the opposite side of their road. They pack up their furniture and flit to another half-built district a mile further out; and then it happens again. So they keep on moving, at considerable expense to themselves. They lose all interest in local affairs, indeed they never stay long enough to acquire such an interest, and nobody gains by their journeys except the removal contractor. But in a town-planned district an area is set apart for dwelling-houses, another for shops, another for factories. The position of each area is determined by local conditions, by the “lie of the land,” by the prevailing wind, and by the situation of railways and roads. There is a place for everything, and everything is in its place. This branch of town-planning is called “zoning.” Sites are reserved for municipal buildings, for schools, churches, cinemas and all the other requirements of our complex life. Roads are planned wide where heavy traffic is anticipated, narrow elsewhere. Thus in a properly planned area there is no need for large sums to be paid out of the rates for compensation when a road has to be made or widened, because the land for the road has been earmarked in advance. A man who erects a shop in a new street runs no risk of having made an error of judgment in selecting his site: he knows that this will be the main shopping street and no other. Thus town-planning is good business, but like many other movements for reform its inception was due to far-sighted dreamers. However, it has not yet caught hold of the popular imagination, and, in the recent case of the East Kent coalfield, where, if ever, there was a crying need for its adoption, the imaginative enterprise of some leading Men of Kent seems to have started the movement which made it possible. This last example shows admirably how town-planning may be utilised to save the countryside. In one sense East Kent could not be saved: coal had been found there, and was too valuable to be neglected, for, after all, we cannot afford to throw away any of our natural resources at the present time. Yet it was unthinkable that this lovely district, the cradle of our race and the playground of half London, should be allowed to become a second Black Country. So everything that can be done will be done to preserve Canterbury and Sandwich and other priceless relics of antiquity, to save trees, to prevent the blackening of the fields by smoke and the disfigurement of the landscape by tall chimneys, above all to avoid any repetition of those squalid black villages that have driven miners to desperation in other colliery districts. This is one of the ways in which town-planning can serve the nation.

The development of a modern town is inevitably centrifugal; it spreads and sprawls outwards along the main roads into the country unless that tendency be checked. Every mile that it grows outwards means a few minutes’ extra time for travelling to and from work, congestion increases at the centre, and the country--as a place for recreation--is driven further and further away. A feeling that this system is essentially wrong has resulted in some well-meant efforts to create “Satellite Towns,” of which Letchworth and Welwyn are examples. They are satellites to London in the sense that London is within hail for emergencies: thus Harley Street is a useful resort in some cases, while the sanctuary of the British Museum Reading Room satisfies bookworms, and Oxford Street contents the other sex. But the main object of the promoters was to remove industries and workers bodily into the country, so that labour might be carried on in pleasant surroundings, never more than a few minutes’ walk from green fields. The intention is to limit the ultimate population of these towns to 30,000-50,000. When that figure is reached, another centre will be started. So far, neither town has grown very rapidly, and industry has been slow to move out, in spite of the heavy cost of carrying on business in London. But the “Satellite Town,” a praiseworthy attempt to secure the amenities of the old country town for modern workers, is a factor to be reckoned with in the future. The new L.C.C. town at Becontree in Essex is being properly laid out on rational town-planning lines, but is to be purely residential, for people working in London, so does not constitute a “Satellite Town.” A remarkably successful scheme for providing something better than the ordinary haphazard suburb, which normally deteriorates with the certainty of clockwork, is to be seen in the Hampstead Garden Suburb. This will never deteriorate appreciably, because its residents are guaranteed against any interference with their amenities. It is laid out scientifically, not merely exploited on short-sighted commercial methods.

But though so much can be done by means of town-planning, that new power has not yet been utilised to any appreciable extent in regard to controlling the actual design of buildings. The high level of design achieved at Hampstead and Welwyn is due to private control exercised by a Company, but Ruislip, Bath, and--quite recently--Edinburgh, have adopted the clause in the Town-Planning Act which allows an authority to prescribe the “character” of buildings, and thus to veto any design which, in their opinion, is likely to conflict with the amenities of the place.

There was, as we all know, a great development of municipal housing after the War. It was encouraged, subsidised, and even controlled to some extent by the State, which still continues its work in that direction, though in a greatly modified form. The houses erected under these auspices have been subjected to a great deal of criticism, much of it both ignorant and ill-natured. Let us recall the circumstances. A vast number of dwellings had to be provided in a great hurry for men who had every claim on the nation’s gratitude. Through no fault of their own they were homeless. For a variety of reasons these houses were very expensive, even allowing for the general rise in prices. There was a wave of idealism in the air, and the authorities had taken opinions from every reliable source as to the type of house required: these were to be “homes for heroes,” with a bath h. and c. A book of designs was prepared in Whitehall for the guidance of local authorities and their architects. These designs met with general approval among competent critics, but with some derision from the general public, who greeted the “homes for heroes” as “rabbit-hutches” or “boxes.” That was because they were devoid of trimmings and built in small groups instead of in long rows. There are housing-schemes good and bad, but most people who understand architecture and who are prepared to wait a few years, till hedges and trees have given these simple buildings their proper setting, consider that the new houses generally represent an advance on anything done hitherto. Simplicity in building is, within limits, a virtue, especially in the country.

The design of these houses was entrusted to architects to an extent never approached previously; sometimes they were the work of private practitioners, sometimes of young architects employed under the direction of the local surveyor, sometimes by the local surveyor or engineer himself. The degree of ability in design possessed by these several functionaries is naturally reflected in their products. In that queer book _Antic Hay_, Mr. Aldous Huxley makes an eccentric architect, “Gumbril Senior,” voice his views on the design of artisan houses: “I’m in luck to have got the job, of course, but really, that a civilised man should have to do jobs like that. It’s too much. In the old days these creatures built their own hovels, and very nice and suitable they were too. The architects busied themselves with architecture--which is the expression of human dignity and greatness, which is man’s protest, not his miserable acquiescence.” But Gumbril Senior was a visionary, and most architects feel that they can do much to save England in her present plight. The trouble is that they are allowed to do so little.

It is equally possible to expect a reasonably high standard of design in the other buildings erected under a local authority: its schools, libraries, and so on. Nor ought one to find unworthy architecture produced by any Government Department, whether it be a post-office, a telephone-exchange, a military barracks, or a coastguard station on a lonely cliff. There was a time when every post-office and police-station bore the marks of red-tape, but of late there has been a noteworthy change for the better. Again and again one sees with pleasure a village post-office or telephone-exchange which harmonises perfectly with the old village street. No longer are the designs stereotyped; local tradition and local colouring are considered. As time passes we may hope to witness the disappearance of the hideous sheds and huts that survive to remind us of the War, now so long ended.

Apart from national and municipal architecture, the design of which must be assumed to be in competent hands, there is a great deal of building carried out by large corporate bodies who have it in their power to insist on good design, and above all on design which accords with local surroundings. Among these are railway companies, banks, “multiple” shops, and brewery companies. Among many of these various undertakings there seems to be positively an architectural renaissance at work, and real imagination is being displayed at last. The Underground Railways in and round London are employing clever artists to design their stations and notices and posters, some of the other railways are providing really attractive houses for their employees, and both public-houses and banks in the country-towns are slowly beginning to take on the colour of their environment. There are two other types of commercial undertaking which might well follow this excellent example: the cinema companies and the garage proprietors. Between them they continue to furnish us with a plentiful stock of eyesores all over the country, mainly because they are striving to attract notice and because they always forget to take their hats off to the village street. If the Council for the Preservation of Rural England can do anything to teach them better manners they will effect a real service to England. Occasionally one sees an attractive petrol-station: a few pounds spent in prizes would produce a crop of good designs from architects. One hesitates to offer any advice to the builders of churches of any kind, but here again one asks no more than decent respect for the spirit of old England.

The toughest nut to crack in all this matter of design is, however, the question of the shop and the dwelling-house, under which head I include, as a matter of courtesy, the bungalow. An Englishman’s house is his castle, and he resents any interference with the rights of the subject. Is it reasonable to impose on him any restriction as to the outward appearance of his home, in regard to its design, its colour, or the materials of which it is composed? It is true that he has to submit to local building by-laws which prescribe the thicknesses of walls, size of timbers, precautions to be taken against fire, and many matters concerned with health. Often he has to place his house a specified distance back from the road, behind what is called a “building-line.” But the local authority is not empowered to interfere in any matter of æsthetics, unless it adopts the Town-Planning Act and enforces the clause, already mentioned, relating to the “character” of buildings.

But such “interference” is not unknown in the case of leasehold property. Many owners of large estates insert clauses in leases prescribing the materials to be used in building, the size of house to be erected, perhaps the tints to be used in painting, and almost always insist that painting is to be done every so many years. They may also require that no garages, sheds, or other excrescences are to be added to the building without the permission of their surveyor. It is quite reasonable to suggest that these restrictions might be increased to achieve the purpose we have in mind. Thus the frequent instances that we see of a row of stucco dwellings being distempered different colours, and thereby destroying the effect of a balanced architectural scheme, might be avoided. The present ruling autocrat in Italy has recently introduced a measure to deal with this very point, and tenants of houses in a street have to distemper their external walls the same colour at the same time. Much of the “restless” appearance of modern streets and terraces is due to a neglect of this obvious procedure. A concerted appeal to large owners of property to safeguard the amenities of their estates by further action on various lines might lead to great improvement, and something might even be done in the same direction by restrictive covenants in conveyances of freehold land.

Much has been said lately about the necessity for the control of the speculative builder who continues to provide most of the smaller houses and bungalows and shops in this country, and this is the most difficult problem of all. Such control must obviously have the sanction of the law to be effective, and therefore must be ultimately vested in the local authorities, for it is impossible to imagine that Whitehall is to be held responsible for the approval of every plan in the country. As I have already pointed out, the rural districts present the most urgent case for our attention, and here control is most difficult of all. In a great city like Manchester or Leeds a local Fine Art Committee might be formed of people competent enough and disinterested enough to exercise this very delicate function in a statesmanlike way, without fear or favour. Edinburgh, Bath and Oxford have already led the way: towns like Cambridge, Coventry, and Canterbury would be well advised to follow suit. Birmingham has an Advisory Art Committee without statutory powers.

But imagine the Rural District Council of Nether Footlesby dealing with a design by Sir Felix Lutfield, R.A., for a large country-house in their area, for it must be remembered that control of design would apply to houses great and small, designed by architects great and small as well as by people who were not architects. These worthy men might reject his plans because they disliked the appearance of the chimneys; or Councillor Trapp, a plumber by calling, might have a grievance against Sir Felix owing to an unfortunate difference of opinion arising from a previous association in building. It is evident that such a position is unthinkable. Nor would the situation be materially improved if the two auctioneer-architects practising in Nether Footlesby, the retired art-mistress living in the village, and the Vicar of the parish, were entrusted with this responsible task. It needs little imagination to realise that a small advisory committee of this calibre would be nearly as dangerous and quite as futile as the Rural District Council itself. Even if control were administered on a county basis, there are small counties in England where it would be difficult to enlist a committee of men whose decisions would be readily accepted by the bigwigs of the architectural profession. It seems to me that a very carefully drafted scheme of control might be organised for most of the large cities and perhaps half the counties of England, though even then the situation would bristle with difficulties, but for the more scattered districts--where at least an equal number of mistakes is being made--the problem seems insoluble. The London Society and the Birmingham Civic Society are the sort of bodies that might be trusted to frame a scheme, but even they would experience many setbacks before they obtained statutory powers. Much good work in the direction of controlling unwise development in France has been done by the local _Syndicats d’initiative_, bodies which exist to preserve the amenities of each town or district. A study of the methods used in France, and of measures adopted recently in Italy, would doubtless be helpful in our own case.

Failing control of this kind, it has been suggested that the builder must be “brought to his senses,” in the diplomatic words of a writer in _The Times_ of January 7th, 1927. But, so long as the builder continues to sell his houses without any difficulty and at a considerable profit, he may not see any reason for admitting that he is deficient in sense. Who, for instance, is to be empowered to stop him decorating his gables with a ludicrous parody of half-timbering, made of inch boards which warp in the sun? The small builder obtains many of his designs from printed books or from weekly journals, and the following authentic extract from a recent publication shows how it is done:

“Having a plot of land 80-ft. frontage by 120-ft., I should be
pleased if some reader would submit a plan and elevation-sketch of a
detached house, something attractive, dainty, and _very arresting_.”

The words I have italicised explain some of our present troubles. The desire of the builder and of his client, for the “very arresting” house causes many of the incongruous additions to our landscape. Something might be done, as the President of the R.I.B.A. has suggested, to supply the builder with stock designs of good character, adapted to the needs of each locality; for, as I have noted before, the use of copybooks in the eighteenth century produced houses which if sometimes dull were at least dignified and often charming. But a process of very slow conversion will be necessary before we can hope to rid the public of this desire for “very arresting” buildings.

In the control of design would have to be included restrictions on colour and material _so far as is reasonable_, but it is quite impracticable nowadays to insist that a man building a house in a Yorkshire dale must employ the traditional stone walls and stone slates: it is doubtful if anybody will ever legally prevent him using the pink asbestos-cement tiles that clash so violently with the dull tones of the landscape. Similarly, it is idle to expect that a modern factory building should be erected to harmonise perfectly with rural surroundings: one can only ask that its designer may bear in mind the spirit of the place, and treat it as tenderly as circumstances permit. But we may reasonably press for further action in the abatement of factory smoke and domestic smoke, for that nuisance spreads forty or fifty miles away from industrial areas, and cities like Leicester--where smoke is hardly visible--are few and far between. The Coal Smoke Abatement Society has long worked towards this end, and its arguments are familiar to most people. Its supporters are convinced that smoky chimneys are wasteful as well as unhealthy and unpleasant. But it seems certain that we can eliminate a large part of our coal-smoke by utilising electric power far more extensively than we now do, by harnessing our rivers and by utilising all the waste water-power that is running from reservoirs to towns in aqueducts and pipes.

It has been suggested lately that much of the ugliness of colliery districts might be mitigated by judicious planting of trees on pit-banks. But smoke is one factor that prevents this, for it blackens and stunts all vegetation. Then the recent coal-strike showed that in any such emergency gleaners would soon be at work on the banks, grubbing for coal among the tree-roots. Lastly, even if trees did grow in such inhospitable soil, there is some doubt whether they would be tenderly treated by those for whose benefit they were planted.

It has been pointed out, earlier in this chapter, that Acts of Parliament have already empowered local authorities to remove unsightly hoardings and advertisements of all kinds, so that it only remains now for public opinion to press them to proceed in this admirable work. The author of _Nuntius_, in this series of essays, prophesies that advertising will not become more aggressive, adding that a sign which spoils a beautiful landscape is a very ineffective advertisement and hence that the “few existing” (_sic_) will soon disappear. Let us hope so. But one hesitates to accept his earlier statement that, if there were no hoardings on empty sites, these would become rubbish dumps. At all events, the recent action of the petrol combines in removing their hideous advertisements nearly all over the countryside represents a great victory for public opinion. On the whole, advertising is becoming more artistic, possibly more restrained. But house-agents continue to be terrible sinners in this respect. Close to my home is an avenue, still miraculously preserving its beauty, though surely doomed. But at the end of it is a group of seven enormous hoardings erected cheek-by-jowl by rival agents and completely spoiling a fine vista. I cannot see that any hardships would be inflicted on those Philistine touts if all agents’ boards were restricted to a maximum size of 2 square feet. Those who wished could still read them, others need not. There are many little details of design in village streets--the inn-signs, the lettering of street-names, the lamp-standards--capable of improvement on simple lines. In this connection one may mention the work of the Rural Industries Bureau which, among its other activities in encouraging the rustic craftsman, has endeavoured to find employment for the village blacksmith on simple wrought-iron accessories in common use and has prepared a selection of designs for his guidance.

Some day a genius may show us how to make wireless masts less unsightly, or perhaps we may be able to discard them altogether as science advances. But this innovation has not greatly spoiled our villages, nor does it seem probable that air travel will much affect the appearance of the countryside: a few more aerodromes perhaps, and on them, it is to be hoped, a more attractive type of building. The air lighthouse or beacon will spring up here and there; another subject for the ambitious young architect in competition.

But though it is now evident that a very great deal may be done for the preservation of rural England by the exercise of legislative powers which local authorities already possess, and by pressure on corporate bodies and private landowners of the best type, the ultimate success of the new crusade will depend on its ability to influence public opinion. Two kinds of opinion are involved, that of the country dwellers themselves, and that of the urban invaders of the countryside. Probably most young people now employed in remote villages and on farms would give their skin to get away from what they regard as the monotony of rural life, and one must sympathise with that view. The introduction of wireless and cinemas will make their existence less irksome, and the phenomenal increase of motor-bus facilities allows them to travel cheaply and frequently to the nearest town, with its shops and bright streets. But none of these things will teach them to prize the country, rather the reverse, for many of the films they see show them uglification at its worst--in the ricketty shacks of Western America. It might be possible to teach them to admire their own heritage by occasional lectures at the village institutes on town-planning and architecture; not the architecture of great cathedrals and of foreign buildings like the Parthenon, but the simple homely architecture of the village church, the village barn, and the village cottage. A competent lecturer accustomed to such an audience, avoiding like the plague all sentimental talk about the glory of country life, might explain the beauty of old bridges and mills, the simple skill of old craftsmen, in such a way that his hearers would be less anxious to substitute suburban vulgarities for everything that their rude forefathers of the hamlet had made. Recently there was organised, in my own village, an exhibition of drawings, engravings, maps, old documents, etc., illustrating the history and development of the district. It was visited by a large number of people, including many children, and undoubtedly it aroused much interest in things that had hitherto passed unnoticed.

The urban motorist, whether he travels in a Rolls-Royce or a charabanc, often provides an equally difficult problem. He may be a superior person of great wealth, who avoids the hackneyed resorts of trippers because he objects to the sight of beer-bottles and paper bags on the heather, but, as a humorous artist recently reminded us, he probably goes to a more secluded common and instructs his chauffeur to leave the champagne bottles and disembowelled lobsters under a gorse-bush there, for he has the soul and breeding of the tripper, and litter does not offend him. The beach X---- in Romney Marsh, already mentioned, was littered from end to end with newspapers, cigarette packets, and confectioners’ debris, when last I saw it.

Untidiness, ugliness, lack of respect for history and beauty, an insane craze for speed in getting from one futile pursuit to another, blatant advertisement, sordid commercialism--these are some of the things we have borrowed from American life to vulgarise our own. But when Americans come over to England, the thing that impresses them most--far more than anything we can do in our towns--is the harmony and peace of the English village and the English countryside. They feel in their bones that there we “have them beat.”

It is simply heart-breaking, to those of us who know how future uglification may be avoided and how much of the blundering of the past may be remedied, to see the process of deterioration steadily continuing. With more of brains and less of greed, more of public spirit and less of vested interests, rural England may yet be saved.

SOME ADDRESSES

THE COUNCIL FOR THE PRESERVATION OF RURAL ENGLAND,

33, Bloomsbury Square, W.C. 1.

THE GARDEN CITIES AND TOWN PLANNING ASSOCIATION,

3, Gray’s Inn Place, W.C. 1.

THE SOCIETY FOR THE PROTECTION OF ANCIENT BUILDINGS,

20, Buckingham Street, W.C. 2.

THE COMMONS AND FOOTPATHS PRESERVATION SOCIETY,

7, Buckingham Palace Gardens, S.W. 1.

THE COAL SMOKE ABATEMENT SOCIETY,

7, Buckingham Palace Gardens, S.W. 1.

THE NATIONAL TRUST FOR PLACES OF HISTORIC INTEREST OR NATURAL BEAUTY,

7, Buckingham Palace Gardens, S.W. 1.

THE SCAPA SOCIETY FOR THE PREVENTION OF DISFIGUREMENT IN TOWN AND
COUNTRY,

7, Buckingham Palace Gardens, S.W. 1.

THE RURAL INDUSTRIES INTELLIGENCE BUREAU,

20, Eccleston Street, S.W. 1.

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW

_Each, pott 8vo, boards, 2/6 net_

This series of books, by some of the most distinguished English thinkers, scientists, philosophers, doctors, critics, and artists, was at once recognized as a noteworthy event. Written from various points of view, one book frequently opposing the argument of another, they provide the reader with a stimulating survey of the most modern thought in many departments of life. Several volumes are devoted to the future trend of Civilization, conceived as a whole; while others deal with particular provinces. It is interesting to see in these neat little volumes, issued at a low price, the revival of a form of literature, the Pamphlet, which has been in disuse for many years.

_Published by_
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD.
Broadway House: 68-74 Carter Lane, London, E.C. 4.

_FROM THE REVIEWS_

_Times Literary Supplement_: “An entertaining series.”

_Spectator_: “Scintillating monographs.”

_Observer_: “There seems no reason why the brilliant To-day and
To-morrow Series should come to an end for a century of to-morrows.
At first it seemed impossible for the publishers to keep up the sport
through a dozen volumes, but the series already runs to more than two
score. A remarkable series....”

_Nation_: “We are able to peer into the future by means of that
brilliant series [which] will constitute a precious document upon the
present time.”--T. S. ELIOT.

_Manchester Dispatch_: “The more one reads of these pamphlets, the
more avid becomes the appetite. We hope the list is endless.”

_Irish Statesman_: “Full of lively controversy.”

_Daily Herald_: “This series has given us many monographs of
brilliance and discernment.... The stylistic excellences of this
provocative series.”

_Field_: “We have long desired to express the deep admiration felt by
every thinking scholar and worker at the present day for this series.
We must pay tribute to the high standard of thought and expression
they maintain. As small gift-books, austerely yet prettily produced,
they remain unequalled of their kind. We can give but the briefest
suggestions of their value to the student, the politician, and the
voter....”

_Japan Chronicle_: “While cheap prophecy is a futile thing, wisdom
consists largely in looking forward to consequences. It is this that
makes these books of considerable interest.”

_New York World_: “Holds the palm in the speculative and
interpretative thought of the age.”

_VOLUMES READY_

=Daedalus=, or Science and the Future. By J. B. S. HALDANE, Reader in
Biochemistry, University of Cambridge. _Seventh impression._

“A fascinating and daring little book.”--_Westminster Gazette._
“The essay is brilliant, sparkling with wit and bristling with
challenges.”--_British Medical Journal._ “Predicts the most
startling changes.”--_Morning Post._

=Callinicus=, a Defence of Chemical Warfare. By J. B. S. HALDANE.
_Second impression._

“Mr. Haldane’s brilliant study.”--_Times Leading Article._ “A
book to be read by every intelligent adult.”--_Spectator._ “This
brilliant little monograph.”--_Daily News._

=Icarus=, or the Future of Science. By BERTRAND RUSSELL, F.R.S.
_Fourth impression._

“Utter pessimism.”--_Observer._ “Mr. Russell refuses to believe
that the progress of Science must be a boon to mankind.”--_Morning
Post._ “A stimulating book, that leaves one not at all
discouraged.”--_Daily Herald._

=What I Believe.= By BERTRAND RUSSELL, F.R.S. _Third impression._

“One of the most brilliant and thought-stimulating little books
I have read--a better book even than Icarus.”--_Nation._ “Simply
and brilliantly written.”--_Nature._ “In stabbing sentences he
punctures the bubble of cruelty, envy, narrowness, and ill-will
which those in authority call their morals.”--_New Leader._

=Tantalus=, or the Future of Man. By F. C. S. SCHILLER, D.SC., Fellow
of Corpus Christi College, Oxford. _Second impression._

“They are all (_Daedalus_, _Icarus_, and _Tantalus_) brilliantly
clever, and they supplement or correct one another.”--_Dean
Inge_, in _Morning Post_. “Immensely valuable and infinitely
readable.”--_Daily News._ “The book of the week.”--S_pectator._

=Cassandra=, or the Future of the British Empire. By F. C. S.
SCHILLER, D.SC.

“We commend it to the complacent of all parties.”--_Saturday
Review._ “The book is small, but very, very weighty; brilliantly
written, it ought to be read by all shades of politicians and
students of politics.”--_Yorkshire Post._ “Yet another addition to
that bright constellation of pamphlets.”--_Spectator._

=Quo Vadimus?= Glimpses of the Future. By E. E. FOURNIER D’ALBE,
D.SC., author of “Selenium, the Moon Element,” etc.

“A wonderful vision of the future. A book that will be talked
about.”--_Daily Graphic._ “A remarkable contribution to a
remarkable series.”--_Manchester Dispatch._ “Interesting and
singularly plausible.”--_Daily Telegraph._

=Thrasymachus=, the Future of Morals. By C. E. M. JOAD, author of
“The Babbitt Warren,” etc. _Second impression._

“His provocative book.”--_Graphic._ “Written in a style of
deliberate brilliance.”--_Times Literary Supplement._ “As outspoken
and unequivocal, a contribution as could well be imagined.
Even those readers who dissent will be forced to recognize the
admirable clarity with which he states his case. A book that will
startle.”--_Daily Chronicle._

=Lysistrata=, or Woman’s Future and Future Woman. By ANTHONY M.
LUDOVICI, author of “A Defence of Aristocracy,” etc. _Second
Impression._

“A stimulating book. Volumes would be needed to deal, in the
fullness his work provokes, with all the problems raised.”--_Sunday
Times._ “Pro-feminine, but anti-feministic.”--_Scotsman._ “Full of
brilliant common-sense.”--_Observer._

=Hypatia=, or Woman and Knowledge. By MRS. BERTRAND RUSSELL. With a
frontispiece. _Third impression._

An answer to _Lysistrata_. “A passionate vindication of the rights
of women.”--_Manchester Guardian._ “Says a number of things
that sensible women have been wanting publicly said for a long
time.”--_Daily Herald._

=Hephaestus=, the Soul of the Machine. By E. E. FOURNIER D’ALBE, D.SC.

“A worthy contribution to this interesting series. A delightful
and thought-provoking essay.”--_Birmingham Post._ “There is a
special pleasure in meeting with a book like _Hephaestus_. The
author has the merit of really understanding what he is talking
about.”--_Engineering._ “An exceedingly clever defence of
machinery.”--_Architects’ Journal._

=The Passing of the Phantoms=: a Study of Evolutionary Psychology and
Morals. By C. J. PATTEN, Professor of Anatomy, Sheffield University.
With 4 Plates.

“Readers of _Daedalus_, _Icarus_ and _Tantalus_, will be
grateful for an excellent presentation of yet another point
of view.”--_Yorkshire Post._ “This bright and bracing little
book.”--_Literary Guide._ “Interesting and original.”--_Medical
Times._

=The Mongol in our Midst=: a Study of Man and his Three Faces. By
F. G. CROOKSHANK, M.D., F.R.C.P. With 28 Plates. _Second Edition,
revised._

“A brilliant piece of speculative induction.”--_Saturday Review._
“An extremely interesting and suggestive book, which will reward
careful reading.”--_Sunday Times._ “The pictures carry fearful
conviction.”--_Daily Herald._

=The Conquest of Cancer.= By H. W. S. WRIGHT, M.S., F.R.C.S.
Introduction by F. G. CROOKSHANK, M.D.

“Eminently suitable for general reading. The problem is fairly
and lucidly presented. One merit of Mr. Wright’s plan is that he
tells people what, in his judgment, they can best do, _here and
now_.”--From the _Introduction_.

=Pygmalion=, or the Doctor of the Future. By R. MCNAIR WILSON, M.B.

“Dr. Wilson has added a brilliant essay to this series.”--_Times
Literary Supplement._ “This is a very little book, but there is
much wisdom in it.”--_Evening Standard._ “No doctor worth his salt
would venture to say that Dr. Wilson was wrong.”--_Daily Herald._

=Prometheus=, or Biology and the Advancement of Man. By H. S.
JENNINGS, Professor of Zoology, Johns Hopkins University.

“This volume is one of the most remarkable that has yet appeared
in this series. Certainly the information it contains will be
new to most educated laymen. It is essentially a discussion
of ... heredity and environment, and it clearly establishes
the fact that the current use of these terms has no scientific
justification.”--_Times Literary Supplement._ “An exceedingly
brilliant book.”--_New Leader._

=Narcissus=: an Anatomy of Clothes. By GERALD HEARD. With 19
illustrations.

“A most suggestive book.”--_Nation._ “Irresistible. Reading it
is like a switchback journey. Starting from prehistoric times we
rocket down the ages.”--_Daily News._ “Interesting, provocative,
and entertaining.”--_Queen._

=Thamyris=, or Is There a Future for Poetry? By R. C. TREVELYAN.

“Learned, sensible, and very well-written.”--_Affable Hawk_, in
_New Statesman_. “Very suggestive.”--_J. C. Squire_, in _Observer_.
“A very charming piece of work, I agree with all, or at any rate,
almost all its conclusions.”--_J. St. Loe Strachey_, in _Spectator_.

=Proteus=, or the Future of Intelligence. By VERNON LEE, author of
“Satan the Waster,” etc.

“We should like to follow the author’s suggestions as to the
effect of intelligence on the future of Ethics, Aesthetics,
and Manners. Her book is profoundly stimulating and should be
read by everyone.”--_Outlook._ “A concise, suggestive piece of
work.”--_Saturday Review._

=Timotheus=, the Future of the Theatre. By BONAMY DOBRÉE, author of
“Restoration Drama,” etc.

“A witty, mischievous little book, to be read with
delight.”--_Times Literary Supplement._ “This is a delightfully
witty book.”--_Scotsman._ “In a subtly satirical vein he visualizes
various kinds of theatres in 200 years time. His gay little book
makes delightful reading.”--_Nation._

=Paris=, or the Future of War. By Captain B. H. LIDDELL HART.

“A companion volume to _Callinicus_. A gem of close thinking
and deduction.”--_Observer._ “A noteworthy contribution to a
problem of concern to every citizen in this country.”--_Daily
Chronicle._ “There is some lively thinking about the future of war
in _Paris_, just added to this set of live-wire pamphlets on big
subjects.”--_Manchester Guardian._

=Wireless Possibilities.= By Professor A. M. LOW. With 4 diagrams.

“As might be expected from an inventor who is always so fresh, he
has many interesting things to say.”--_Evening Standard._ “The
mantle of Blake has fallen upon the physicists. To them we look for
visions, and we find them in this book.”--_New Statesman._

=Perseus=: of Dragons. By H. F. SCOTT STOKES. With 2 illustrations.

“A diverting little book, chock-full of ideas. Mr. Stokes’
dragon-lore is both quaint and various.”--_Morning Post._ “Very
amusingly written, and a mine of curious knowledge for which the
discerning reader will find many uses.”--_Glasgow Herald._

=Lycurgus=, or the Future of Law. By E. S. P. HAYNES, author of
“Concerning Solicitors,” etc.

“An interesting and concisely written book.”--_Yorkshire Post._ “He
roundly declares that English criminal law is a blend of barbaric
violence, medieval prejudices, and modern fallacies.... A humane
and conscientious investigation.”--_T.P.’s Weekly._ “A thoughtful
book--deserves careful reading.”--_Law Times._

=Euterpe=, or the Future of Art. By LIONEL R. MCCOLVIN, author of
“The Theory of Book-Selection.”

“Discusses briefly, but very suggestively, the problem of the
future of art in relation to the public.”--_Saturday Review._
“Another indictment of machinery as a soul-destroyer ... Mr. Colvin
has the courage to suggest solutions.”--_Westminster Gazette._
“This is altogether a much-needed book.”--_New Leader._

=Pegasus=, or Problems of Transport. By Colonel J. F. C. FULLER,
author of “The Reformation of War,” etc. With 8 Plates.

“The foremost military prophet of the day propounds a solution
for industrial and unemployment problems. It is a bold essay
... and calls for the attention of all concerned with imperial
problems.”--_Daily Telegraph._ “Practical, timely, very interesting
and very important.”--J. St. Loe Strachey, in _Spectator_.

=Atlantis=, or America and the Future. By Colonel J. F. C. FULLER.

“Candid and caustic.”--_Observer._ “Many hard things have been
said about America, but few quite so bitter and caustic as
these.”--_Daily Sketch._ “He can conjure up possibilities of a new
Atlantis.”--_Clarion._

=Midas=, or the United States and the Future. By C. H. BRETHERTON,
author of “The Real Ireland”, etc.

A companion volume to _Atlantis_. “Full of astute observations
and acute reflections ... this wise and witty pamphlet, a
provocation to the thought that is creative.”--_Morning Post._
“A punch in every paragraph. One could hardly ask for more
‘meat.’”--_Spectator._

=Nuntius=, or Advertising and its Future. By GILBERT RUSSELL.

“Expresses the philosophy of advertising concisely and
well.”--_Observer._ “It is doubtful if a more straightforward
exposition of the part advertising plays in our public and private
life has been written.”--_Manchester Guardian._

=Birth Control and the State=: a Plea and a Forecast. By C. P.
BLACKER, _M.C._, M.A., M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P.

“A very careful summary.”--_Times Literary Supplement._ “A
temperate and scholarly survey of the arguments for and against
the encouragement of the practice of birth control.”--_Lancet._
“He writes lucidly, moderately, and from wide knowledge; his book
undoubtedly gives a better understanding of the subject than any
other brief account we know. It also suggests a policy.”--_Saturday
Review._

=Ouroboros=, or the Mechanical Extension of Mankind. By GARET GARRETT.

“This brilliant and provoking little book.”--_Observer._ “A
significant and thoughtful essay, calculated in parts to make our
flesh creep.”--_Spectator._ “A brilliant writer, Mr. Garrett is a
remarkable man. He explains something of the enormous change the
machine has made in life.”--_Daily Express._

=Artifex=, or the Future of Craftsmanship. By JOHN GLOAG, author of
“Time, Taste, and Furniture.”