CLAYGATE Ixxi 



c Nov. 17. . . . I am very glad we married young. I would 

 not have missed these five years, no, not for any hopes ; they 

 are my own. 



1 Nov. 30. I got through my Chatham lecture very fairly 

 though almost all my apparatus went astray. I dined at the 

 mess, and got home to Isleworth the same evening ; your father 

 very kindly sitting up for me. 



' Dec. 1. Back at dear Claygate. Many cuttings flourish, 

 especially those which do honour to your hand. Your Cali- 

 fornian annuals are up and about. Badger is fat, the grass 

 green. . . . 



' Dec. 3. Odden will not talk of you, while you are away, 

 having inherited, as I suspect, his father's way of declining to 

 consider a subject which is painful, as your absence is. ... I 

 certainly should like to learn Greek and I think it would be a 

 capital pastime for the long winter evenings. . . . How things 

 are misrated ! I declare croquet is a noble occupation compared 

 to the pursuits of business men. As for so-called idleness that 

 is, one form of it I vow it is the noblest aim of man. When 

 idle, one can love, one can be good, feel kindly to all, devote 

 oneself to others, be thankful for existence, educate one's mind, 

 one's heart, one's body. When busy, as I am busy now or have 

 been busy to-day, one feels just as you sometimes felt when 

 you were too busy, owing to want of servants. 



( Dec. 5. On Sunday I was at Isleworth, chiefly engaged 

 in playing with Odden. We had the most enchanting walk 

 together through the brickfields. It was very muddy, and, as 

 he remarked, not fit for Nanna, but fit for us men. The dreary 

 waste of bared earth, thatched sheds and standing water, was a 

 paradise to him ; and when we walked up planks to deserted 

 mixing and crushing mills, and actually saw where the clay 

 was stirred with long iron prongs, and chalk or lime ground 

 with ' a tind of a mill,' his expression of contentment and 

 triumphant heroism knew no limit to its beauty. Of course on 

 returning I found Mrs. Austin looking out at the door in an 

 anxious manner, and thinking we had been out quite long 

 enough. ... I am reading Don Quixote chiefly and am his 



