bed.

Of course one ought to be able to breast weather such as this of to-day,
and to find one's pleasure in the strife with it. For the man sound in
body and serene of mind there is no such thing as bad weather; every sky
has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more
vigorously. I remember the time when I would have set out with gusto for
a tramp along the wind-swept and rain-beaten roads; nowadays, I should
perhaps pay for the experiment with my life. All the more do I prize the
shelter of these good walls, the honest workmanship which makes my doors
and windows proof against the assailing blast. In all England, the land
of comfort, there is no room more comfortable than this in which I sit.
Comfortable in the good old sense of the word, giving solace to the mind
no less than ease to the body. And never does it look more homely, more
a refuge and a sanctuary, than on winter nights.

In my first winter here, I tried fires of wood, having had my hearth
arranged for the purpose; but that was a mistake. One cannot burn logs
successfully in a small room; either the fire, being kept moderate, needs
constant attention, or its triumphant blaze makes the room too hot. A
fire is a delightful thing, a companion and an inspiration. If my room
were kept warm by some wretched modern contrivance of water-pipes or
heated air, would it be the same to me as that beautiful core of glowing
fuel, which, if I sit and gaze into it, becomes a world of wonders? Let
science warm the heaven-forsaken inhabitants of flats and hotels as
effectually and economically as it may; if the choice were forced upon
me, I had rather sit, like an Italian, wrapped in my mantle, softly
stirring with a key the silver-grey surface of the brasier's charcoal.
They tell me we are burning all our coal, and with wicked wastefulness. I
am sorry for it, but I cannot on that account make cheerless perhaps the
last winter of my life. There may be waste on domestic hearths, but the
wickedness is elsewhere--too blatant to call for indication. Use common
sense, by all means, in the construction of grates; that more than half
the heat of the kindly coal should be blown up the chimney is desired by
no one; but hold by the open fire as you hold by whatever else is best in
England. Because, in the course of nature, it will be some day a thing
of the past (like most other things that are worth living for), is that a
reason why it should