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TO MISS VIOLET WALLACE

Parkstone, Dorset.  March 8, 1899.

My dear Violet,—­ ...  I have now finished reading the “Maha Bharata,” which is on the whole very fine—­finer, I think, than the “Iliad.”  I have read a good deal of it twice, and it will bear reading many times.  It corresponds pretty nearly in date with the “Iliad,” the scenes it describes being supposed to be about B.C. 1500.  Many of the ideas and moral teachings are beautiful; equal to the best teaching and superior to the general practice of to-day.  I have made a lot of emendations and suggestions, which I am going to send to the translator, as the proofs have evidently not been carefully read by any English literary man.

About the year 1899 Dr. Wallace began to think of leaving Parkstone, partly for reasons of health and partly to get a larger garden, if possible.  He spent three years in looking for a suitable spot in many of the southern counties, and we were all pressed to join in the search.  Finally he found just the spot he wanted at Broadstone; only three miles away.  The following letters describe his final success—­all written with his usual optimism and high spirits: 

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TO MR. W.G.  WALLACE

Parkstone, Dorset.  October 26, 1901.

My dear Will,—­At length the long quest has come to an end, and I have agreed to buy three acres of land at Broadstone.  Ma and I have just been over again this morning to consider its capabilities, and the exact boundaries that will be the most advantageous, as I have here the great advantage of choosing exactly what I will have.  I only wish I could afford five acres instead of three, or even ten; but the three will contain the very eye of the whole.  I enclose you a bit of the 6-inch ordnance on which I have marked the piece I have finally fixed upon in red chalk.  The attractive bit is the small enclosure of one acre, left rather paler, which is an old orchard in a little valley sloping downward to the S.S.E.  There are, perhaps, a score of trees in it—­apples, pears, plums and cherries, I believe, and under them a beautiful green short turf like a lawn—­kept so, I believe, by rabbits.  From the top of this orchard is a fine view over moor and heather, then over the great northern bay of Poole Harbour, and beyond to the Purbeck Hills and out to the sea and the Old Harry headland.  It is not very high—­about 140 feet, I think, but being on the edge of one of the plateaus the view is very effective.  On the top to the left of the road track is a slightly undulating grass field, of which I have a little less than an acre.  To the right of the fence, and coming down to the wood, is very rough ground densely covered with heather and dwarf gorse, a great contrast to the field.  The wood on the right is mixed but