It must not be imagined that a walking tour, as some would
have us fancy, is merely a better or worse way of seeing
the country. There are many ways of seeing landscape quite
as good; and none more vivid, in spite of canting
dilettantes, than from a railway train. But landscape on a
walking tour is quite accessory. He who is indeed of the
brotherhood does not voyage in quest of the picturesque,
but of certain jolly humours--of the hope and spirit with
which the march begins at morning, and the peace and
spiritual repletion of the evening's rest. He cannot tell
whether he puts his knapsack on, or takes it off, with more
delight. The excitement of the departure puts him in key
for that of the arrival. Whatever he does is not only a
reward in itself, but will be further rewarded in the
sequel; and so pleasure leads on to pleasure in an endless
chain.

*

Nor does the scenery any more affect the thoughts than the
thoughts affect the scenery. We see places through our
humours as through differently-coloured glasses. We are
ourselves a term in the equation, a note of the chord, and
make discord or harmony almost at will. There is no fear
for the result, if we can but surrender ourselves
sufficiently to the country that surrounds and follows us,
so that we are ever thinking suitable thoughts or telling
ourselves some suitable sort of story as we go. We become
thus, in some sense, a centre of beauty; we are provocative
of beauty, much as a gentle and sincere character is