290 POT-POURRI FROM A SURREY GARDEN 



general well-being of the establishment, then the oneness 

 of married life cannot possibly be carried on without a 

 certain sacrifice of what is best for the growing-up 

 children. But, again, in the evening of Ufe, when friends 

 gradually fall away, and we become rather a duty and 

 perhaps even a slight burden to our children and 

 relations, who have their own lives to attend to, I 

 consider that residing in the suburbs solves, once more, 

 a great many of the difficulties of our complicated family 

 existence. Our children can easily visit us, and, if we 

 are not too old, we can so well go to London for duty or 

 pleasure, and in this way see, and hear, and learn all that 

 is going on. If all this is true, as I think it is, we are 

 saved, without actually living in London, from the 

 reproach that, being buried in the country, we let our- 

 selves go, and grow old prematurely. To be an easy 

 distance from town, though saying this may seem rather 

 a drop from the sublime to the ridiculous, certainly helps 

 us to cultivate the enjoyment of Nature, and, at the 

 same time, gives us the opportunity, if we have the 

 power in however slight a degree, of acquiring knowledge 

 for its own sake without regard to its practical applica- 

 tion. Surely these are the only two perfect sources of 

 human happiness? I do not say this thoughtlessly. 

 Love, in all its forms, gives a far intenser happiness, but 

 even in its purest form — parental love — it is accompanied 

 by anxiety and doubt. It begins with a kind of animal 

 enjoyment, and ends in the practising of continual self- 

 denial. 



Much as I dislike leaving my garden, yesterday I 

 obeyed the summons of my oldest friend to spend the 

 day in London with her ; and certainly it turned out an 

 example of what I have been saying — so much so, that 

 I yield to the temptation of giving a sUght account of it. 

 We spent our time in visiting Burlington House, and I 



