sprung out of the necessities of their ancestors, as an evidence not only of good sense, but of good taste.  The immigrants, arriving from time to time, might have disabused them, but these would naturally fall into the ways and sentiments of the people, and were their tastes ever so ambitious, probably had not the means to gratify them.  This is the origin, and thus is to be explained the continuance of American architecture.”

“An architecture,” said the Judge, “that would have driven a Greek out of his senses.  But though I will not quarrel with you about its origin, does not its perpetuation for so long a time affect the character of our countrymen for taste?”

“It will pass away,” said Armstrong, gloomily, “and with it the stern virtues that are of more importance than a trifle like this.”

“There can be no connection between an improvement in architecture, and a deterioration of morals.”

“Prosperity brings wealth, and wealth is the means to gratify the caprices of luxury and taste.  Perhaps, at some future day when stone and marble shall have susperseded wood and brick; and magnificent Grecian and Gothic temples, resplendent in stained glass, taken the places of the humble, unpretentious meeting-houses, the thoughtful and judicious will sigh for those times of primitive simplicity, when an humble heart was more than an ostentatious offering, and God’s word was listened to devoutly on hard seats instead of being dozed over in cushioned pews.”

“You are becoming gloomy, Armstrong,” said the Judge.  “This will never do.  Progress, man, progress I tell you is the word.  The world is improving every day.  Banish these sick fancies.”

Armstrong shook his head.  “I envy you,” he said, “your hopeful and joyous spirit, while I know you are mistaken.”

“Well, well, my friend, I wish I could give you a portion of it.  But to come back to where we started from.  After finding so much fault, it is time to praise.  However we may ridicule the ugliness of our houses, this much must be admitted in favor of our villages and country towns, that in cleanliness and an appearance of substantial comfort, they infinitely surpass their rivals in Europe.  I do not except the villages in England.  Who can walk through one of our New England country towns, where majestic elms throw their shadows over spacious streets, and the white rose clambers over the front doors of the neat, white painted houses, standing back a rod or two from the street with gardens stretching behind, while Peace and Plenty bless the whole, and not be grateful for a scene so fair, for a land so fortunate!”

They had now arrived in sight of the Judge’s farm-house, which stood at some distance from the main road, from which a lane planted on both sides with maples, led to it.  As they drove along the Judge pointed out the changes he had made since he became the owner.