Street. We would sit by the fountain in the Temple with Tom Pinch, and take
a wherry to Westminster with Mr. Pepys. We should see London then as a
great spiritual companionship, in which it is our privilege to have a
fleeting part.




ON CATCHING THE TRAIN


Thank heaven! I have caught it.... I am in a corner seat, the compartment
is not crowded, the train is about to start, and for an hour and a half,
while we rattle towards that haven of solitude on the hill that I have
written of aforetime, I can read, or think, or smoke, or sleep, or talk, or
write as I choose. I think I will write, for I am in the humour for
writing. Do you know what it is to be in the humour for writing--to feel
that there is a head of steam somewhere that must blow off? It isn't so
much that you have something you want to say as that you must say
something. And, after all, what does the subject matter? Any peg will do to
hang your hat on. The hat is the thing. That saying of Rameau fits the idea
to perfection. Some one was asking that great composer if he did not find
difficulty in selecting a subject. "Difficulty? A subject?" said Rameau.
"Not at all. One subject is as good as another. Here, bring me the _Dutch
Gazette_."

That is how I feel now, as the lights of London fade in our wake and the
fresh air of the country blows in at the window. Subject? Difficulty? Here
bring me the _Dutch Gazette_. But while any subject would serve there is
one of particular interest to me at this moment. It came into my mind as I