254 



A SPRING WALK. 



fills the air with his sweet, full notes; the Chaffinch chirrups in plenitude 

 of song from some neighbouring bough; and the Hedge-Sparrow utters its 

 sweet inward notes from the brake at your side. The Woodpecker's joyous 

 laugh echoes through the green arches of the coppice; the Wryneck 

 monotones from the oak, whilst the Cuckoo is heard in the distance, and 

 what sweet scenes do you fancy that distance will realize! The Swallows 

 twittering in the blue ether skim overhead, whilst higher still the Larks 

 soar in the fleecy clouds, or flutter in mid-air, filling the vault of heaven 

 with their rich melody. These are moments which exalt the soul, and 

 may be said to constitute a sublime pleasure. 



As I thus wander through the fields, after having been shut up, per- 

 haps for months in town, I cannot help reflecting on the definition of 

 pleasure, which says that the absence of pain alone constitutes a pleasure. 

 It is so no doubt, but it is of an inferior kind, and partakes rather of 

 the nature of ease, which is certainly a great species of enjoyment. It is 

 this feeling, however, which doubtless enables us, when we have been long 

 enthralled by business, and confined to the brick walls of a city, to enjoj' 

 the pleasing contrast of a visit to the country with a double zest. On 

 this principle, if the weather was fine, my practice was merely to shake 

 off" the dust of my journey, and before tasting either dinner or conversa- 

 tion, to put on my shooting jacket, don my cap, seize my stick, whistle 

 my dog, and haste into the flowery solitudes of .nature. It comes upon 

 us in this manner with a novel freshness perfectly enchanting, and the 

 minutest thing which habit might soon cause us to pass by unnoticed, is 

 observed with a sensitiveness to which at other times we are strangers. 

 Everything wears an air of such purity; the soft breeze that meets you 

 is full of freshness and perfume, your prospect seems so unbounded, and 

 there is a sweet freedom in the scene that communicates itself to the 

 spirits in a joyous impulse. As you contemplate it you feel a hilarity you 

 scarce know why, and a propensity to exclaim "This is pleasure." As you 

 stand wrapt, as it were, in silent yet delighted contemplation, you cast 

 your eye aside, and there sits the patient little companion of your walk, 

 your dog. Assuredly this faithful animal was formed to be the companion 

 of man; see how he watches and understands every turn of your counte- 

 nance; and as he sees your eyes beaming with the fresh impulse which 

 has been given to your spirits, at once partakes of your feelings, and looks 

 delighted too; and if you extend your hand, licks it with ecstacy — token 

 of participation in the sensations that fill your own heart. What can give 

 us more true pleasure than to have beside us one who enters into, shares, 

 and agrees with all our feelings! To admire Nature is to adore the Great 

 Creator, for you cannot contemplate any of His works without at once a 

 pleasing and awful admiration. You may use many things for good, enjoy 



