, which he did, in a very languid and blase fashion. "You'll
never see such trees again," she told him, giving him a vindictive
shake, "for you'll be brokened long before next time."

She went out, but came back as though she had forgotten something.

"Thank the Christkind so much, Mummy, won't you, for all the lovely
things He brought us. I suppose you're writing to Him now, isn't you?"

I cannot see that there was anything gross about our Christmas, and we
were perfectly merry without any need to pretend, and for at least two
days it brought us a little nearer together, and made us kind. Happiness
is so wholesome; it invigorates and warms me into piety far more
effectually than any amount of trials and griefs, and an unexpected
pleasure is the surest means of bringing me to my knees. In spite of the
protestations of some peculiarly constructed persons that they are the
better for trials, I don't believe it. Such things must sour us, just as
happiness must sweeten us, and make us kinder, and more gentle. And will
anybody affirm that it behoves us to be more thankful for trials
than for blessings? We were meant to be happy, and to accept all the
happiness offered with thankfulness--indeed, we are none of us ever
thankful enough, and yet we each get so much, so very much, more than
we deserve. I know a woman--she stayed with me last summer--who rejoices
grimly when those she loves suffer. She believes that it is our lot,
and that it braces us and does us good, and she would shield no one from
even unnecessary pain; she weeps with the sufferer, but is convinced it
is all for the best. Well, let her continue in her dreary beliefs; she
has no garden to teach her the beauty and the happiness of holiness, nor
does she in the least desire to possess one; her convictions have
the sad gray colouring of the dingy streets and houses she lives
amongst--the sad colour of humanity in masses. Submission to what people
call their "lot" is simply ignoble. If your lot makes you cry and be
wretched, get rid of it and take another; strike out for yourself;
don't listen to the shrieks of your relations, to their gibes or their
entreaties; don't let your own microscopic set prescribe your goings-out
and comings-in; don't be afraid of public opinion in the shape of the
neighbour in the next house, when all the world is before you new and
shining, and everything is possible, if you will only be energetic and
independent and seize opportunity