of this age of mechanical enterprise; and the cheering revival of some consideration for the beautiful—though too often misdirected—makes it certain that such scenes of natural grandeur or loveliness as are still unspoiled, will be doubly dear to the next generation. When we see our large towns beginning to vie with one another in the formation of parks, and the preservation of open spaces; when we learn how eagerly the consolations of Nature—though but a few flowers, a simple creeper, or a tiny plot of garden—are prized in the dark places of our cities; when we see every one, from the labourer who rears a solitary window plant, to the man who can spend his thousands on a country home, striving to obtain, at cost, some elements of beauty in their surroundings; above all, when we remember that the possibilities of enjoying natural scenery are being every year curtailed; we must surely feel that nothing short of a cogent and inevitable necessity must exist, before the people of this country suffer the spoiling of their free and birthright inheritance in the loveliness of this Cumberland valley.
It cannot be shown that, in the present case, any such necessity exists. Upon her own estimate, Manchester requires, for herself and the places she supplies, 16,000,000 gallons of water daily; and can command a daily supply of 24,000,000 gallons.
And though it is possible that Manchester may put forward the requirements of neighbouring towns, as a reason for herself undertaking the profitable supply of their necessities, it will be felt, I think, that the promoters of this speculation should not be allowed to carry it out at Thirlmere, unless they can prove to the satisfaction of Parliament, and of the country,—not only that the necessity which they
