In our complicated civilisation it is far more difficult to say
what simplicity of life is. It is certainly not that expensive and
dramatic simplicity which is sometimes contrived by people of
wealth as a pleasant contrast to elaborate living. I remember the
son of a very wealthy man, who had a great mansion in the country
and a large house in London, telling me that his family circle were
never so entirely happy as when they were living at close quarters
in a small Scotch shooting-lodge, where their life was
comparatively rough, and luxuries unattainable. But I gathered that
the main delight of such a period was the sense of laying up a
stock of health and freshness for the more luxurious life which
intervened. The Anglo-Saxon naturally loves a kind of feudal
dignity; he likes a great house, a crowd of servants and
dependants, the impression of power and influence which it all
gives; and the delights of ostentation, of having handsome things
which one does not use and indeed hardly ever sees, of knowing that
others are eating and drinking at one's expense, which is a thing
far removed from hospitality, are dear to the temperament of our
race.
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