AH ENGLISHMAN'S HOME.

Marlborough Express, Volume XLIII, Issue 121, 20 May 1909, Page 2

AH ENGLISHMAN'S HOME.

NOT FORGIVING IN.

Wot very many years ago an Englishman's home, was one> of the most important things in his life. When he married he lopked carefully round for a house suitable to his means and position1, and he either bought it or took it on a long lease. He decorated and furnished it in-a durable fashion, he filled the cupboards with linen and the cellar with port, and he settled himself down with the intention of permanency. His house was the centre of his happiness. Except for a month in the summer, and perhaps a fortnight at Easter., he -lived there year after year in repose and contentment. When immersed in affairs of the market, or beset with worries, he couiu look forward to ; returning thither in the evening, knowing well that all was ordered for his comfort and convenience. In those days we fought— or said we did—for_ England, Home, and Duty, and wept tears from uhe deep fountains of emotion when we listened to "Home, Sweet Home." But times have changed, and for the rich and moderately rich the home, instead of being a desirable place of arrival, has become, strangely enough, a place of departure. The initial choice is reduced almost to an empty form, and is governed less "by the attractive qualities of the house, its aspects, and the solidity of its brick work,, than by such inconsiderate matters as hot water circulation and electric light. A flat in a huge block, where hot water is supplied continuously from an engine in the basement, is regarded as the acme of modern comfort, notwithstanding that the bedrooms look into a well courtyard and are as dark as November. When one has taken the house or1 flat for the shortest term to which the landlord will agree, the eminent firm of decorators, Messrs r , are instructed to do it up; and' they put !■ red paper and white paint in the dinj ing-room, ecru and gilding in the drawing-room, and Japanese leather and ebony in the study, exactly aa they have already done in several hundred other residences in the fashionable parts of London. An order is given for a sufficient, quantity of furniture to fill the rooms, and the house is then ready for occupation. It |is pretty and artistic, and everyone i says it is delightful; but it resembles so closely all the other houses in the same street that practically the latchkey is.its. only mark of individuality. HOW WE LIVE NOW. It.'is scarcely surprising that under these conditions the old idea of home is as much out of fashion as the crino-

line. Fireside'pleasures are enjoyed only when bne has a cold, and the chief object of existence is, it seems, to spend as little time as possible under one's own roof. i Thomson of my old friend Hornblower' is a case in point. He has far' more money than is good for him, and recently he married a lady whose income is even more scandalous than his own. On four days in the week he goes to the Stock \Exchange from ten till four, then to the Portland for a couple or rubbers, and home in time to dress and dine out. If he and his wife ask people to dinner, it is at the Savoy or the Ritz, because they consider it "stuffy" to give a dinner party •in their own house. Then on Friday the luggage is packed, and they go off for the .week-end, either to their own cottage or to stay with friends. ; This is when they are in London. But what with Monte Carlo in February, Scotland in August and September, and shooting through the autumn and winter, the year is reduced to about seven months. Now, what; can such people know of the comforts of home? One might as well, talk to them of the comforts/ of Elysium.

, We;have, in factj lost the capacity for sitting quietly in our chairs. We must be up and out, in search of amusement, and because the hansom was not quick enough in carrying us away from our doors we have invented the taxicab. The hearth is no longer reverenced, for it is set, not in a permanent dwelling-place, but in a shortterm lodging, from which;we flit when we see another more convenient. And with the cessation of worship have ceased the votive offerings of choice pictures and china, because we never have time* to appreciate them, and be-' cause we want the money in our pockets to pay over- to waiters and theatrical managers and other purr veyors of excitement.- Thus we have come to regard the home merely as a place where we can obtain bed and breakfast, and keep our clotries, and be ill—a sort of refitting shed for the human machine when it is out of gear and requires overhauling;— St.' James' Gazette. .