did read left a clearness of impression to which I had long been unaccustomed.  And what was the root and cause of all this miracle?  Fresh air, wholesome food, rude health—­nothing more!  To feel that it is bliss to be alive, health alone is needed.  And by health I mean not the absence of physical ailment or disease, but a high condition of vitality.  This the country gave me; this the town denied me.  The only question was then, at what rate did I value the boon?

This brought me immediately to the much more complex problem of economics.  I knew that men could live in the country on small means, for men did so; but I perceived that the art of living in the country did not come by nature.  Every one supposes that he can drive a horse or grow potatoes; and, when we recollect how many thousands of men go to Canada to take up agricultural pursuits without the least knowledge of the business, it is clear that the belief is general that any man can farm.  I may claim the merit of freedom from this popular delusion.  I not only knew that I could not farm, but I did not wish to be a farmer.  What I wished was to live in the country in some modest way that answered to my needs; to earn by some form of exertion a small income; and at the most, to grow my own vegetables, catch my own fish, and snare my own rabbits.

A legacy of two hundred a year would have served my purpose admirably, but modesty forbade me laying my case before benevolent millionaires, and a destitution of maiden aunts put an end to any hopes of a bequest by natural causes.

What was my precise position then?  I had a salary of two hundred and fifty pounds a year.  An investment that had turned out fortunately gave me about forty pounds a year.  I had done from time to time a little work for the press, which had been worth to me about thirty pounds a year more.  My total budget showed, then, an annual income of three hundred and twenty pounds, which I found barely sufficient for my needs as a dweller in towns.  If I migrated to a cottage, how would matters stand with me?  I should lose my two hundred and fifty pounds per annum of course, and this was an alarming prospect.  But, on the other hand, I reminded myself that I had never really possessed it.  I prepared various tables in which I arranged the items of my expenditure under two heads, viz. the expenditure that was inevitable, and the expenditure that was evitable, because it was the result of town life.  I shall best explain by giving a sample of these tables:—­

  Table I.

  Inevitable expenditure.  L. s. d.

Food and general household expenses,
calculated at 30s. per week   . . . . .  78  0   0
Books, magazines, and papers  . . . . . .   5  0   0
Clothes for two adults and two children .  20  0   0
Insurances  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  25  0   0
Holidays  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  30  0   0
Education   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  35  0   0
Sundries  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  10  0   0
Rent, rates, and taxes  . . . . . . . . .  65  0   0
----------
L268  0   0

Table II.