Non-Fiction > Uncollected essays > Volumes 33-38, 1876-1878 - Cornhill magazine > Volume 33

685
Malhhtig ^0urs.
It must not he imagined that a walking tour, as some -Would have ua
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 brother-
hood does not voyage in quest of the picturesque, but of certaiu jolly
humours — of the hope and spirit with which the march begins at
morning, and the peace and spiritual I'epletion 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. It is this that so few can understand ; they will
either be always lounging, or always at five miles an hour ; they do not
play cif the one against the other, prepare all day for the evening,
and all evening for the next day. And, above all, it is here that your
over-walker fails of comprehension. His heart rises against those who
drink their cura^oa in liqueur glasses, when he himself can swill it in a
brown John. He will not believe that the flavour is more delicate in the
smaller dose. He will not believe that to walk this unconscionable
distance is merely to stupify and brutalise himself, and come to his inn,
at night, with a sort of frost on his five wits, and a starless night of
darkness in his spirit. Not for him the mUd luminous evening of the
temperate walker ! He has nothing left of man but a physical need for
bedtime and a double nightcap ; and even his pipe, if he be a smoker,
will be savourless and disenchanted. It is the fete of such an one to
take twice as much trouble as is needed to obtain happiness, and miss
the happiness in the end ; he is the man of the proverb, in short, who
goes farther and fares worse.
Now, to be properly enjoyed, a walking tour should be gone upon
alone. If you go in a company, or even in pairs, it is no longer a
walking tour ii\ anything but name ; it is something else and more in
the nature of a picnic. It should be gone upon alone, because freedom is
of the essence ; because you should be able to stop and go on, and follow
this way or that, as the freak takes you ; and because you must have
your own pace, and neither trot alongside a champion walker, nor mince
in time with a girl. And then you must be open to all impressions and
let your thoughts take colour from what you see. You should be as a