There may be a prejudice against another quality of these stone walls.  They are rough.  Roughness means want of culture and labor; that implies want of money, and that is—­unpardonable.  But roughness does not mean any such thing.  What are mouldings and frets and carvings but a roughening of otherwise smooth surfaces?  Artists of all kinds seek to remove even the appearance of an unbroken plane, and nature abhors a flat exterior, never allows one, even in the most plastic material, if it can be broken.  See the waves of the ocean, the mimic billows on a snow-covered plain, the rugged grandeur of the everlasting hills.  Fancy a pine, an oak, or an elm tree with trunk and limbs smoothly polished!  What if the outside of your walls are somewhat uneven?  Let them be so.  The shadows will be all the richer, the vines will cling more closely, and maybe the birds will hang their nests in some sunny corner.  Do not, then, try to improve the natural faces of the stones with pick and hammer; you will find it hard work, and, very likely, worse than thrown away.

I think you will like, both in exterior effect and in practical result, the plan of building the walls of the first story of stone with brick dressings, as described in my last letter, making the remainder of the house of wood, be the same more or less.  If the sketches I send you do not make you in love with this style, or if you do not like to risk the experiment, examine something already built before deciding against it.  But first explore the country around you and see if the stony prospect is good.

[Illustration:  Second story of wood.]

Mr. Donald G. Mitchell not only writes in favor of this mode of building, but proves his faith by his work; his new house at Edgewood being an admirable specimen of it.  You will find, too, some noteworthy examples at Newport, for which, with much else in the way of applying a refined taste to rural affairs, we are indebted, directly or indirectly, to the same well-known writer.  If, after the pictures, Mrs. John is still doubtful of the result, the examples above mentioned will certainly allay her misgivings.

You must not think I would recommend this as a universal fashion, even where the materials are abundant, but give it place according to its merit.

I hope you will be spared the folly of building your house of dressed stone of uniform size and color, lest it be mistaken for a large tomb or a small jail.  That you may not at present be compelled to take up your abode in either, is my sincere wish.

LETTER X.

From John.

Trout Brooks are better than street sewers.