How womankind, who are confined to the house still more than men,
stand it I do not know; but I have ground to suspect that most of
them do not STAND it at all. When, early in a summer afternoon,
we have been shaking the dust of the village from the skirts of
our garments, making haste past those houses with purely Doric or
Gothic fronts, which have such an air of repose about them, my
companion whispers that probably about these times their
occupants are all gone to bed. Then it is that I appreciate the
beauty and the glory of architecture, which itself never turns
in, but forever stands out and erect, keeping watch over the
slumberers.

No doubt temperament, and, above all, age, have a good deal to do
with it. As a man grows older, his ability to sit still and
follow indoor occupations increases. He grows vespertinal in his
habits as the evening of life approaches, till at last he comes
forth only just before sundown, and gets all the walk that he
requires in half an hour.

But the walking of which I speak has nothing in it akin to taking
exercise, as it is called, as the sick take medicine at stated
hours--as the Swinging of dumb-bells or chairs; but is itself the
enterprise and adventure of the day. If you would get exercise,
go in search of the springs of life. Think of a man's swinging
dumbbells for his health, when those springs are bubbling up in
far-off pastures unsought by him!

Moreover, you must walk like a camel, which is said to be the
only beast which ruminates when walking. When a traveler asked
Wordsworth's servant to show him her master's study, she