26 WINTER SUNSHINE 



that springs from full and harmonious life, — a 

 sound heart in accord with a sound body. A man 

 must invest himself near at hand and in common 

 things, and be content with a steady and moderate 

 return, if he would know the blessedness of a cheer- 

 ful heart and the sweetness of a walk over the round 

 earth. This is a lesson the American has yet to 

 learn, — capability of amusement on a low key. He 

 expects rapid and extraordinary returns. He would 

 make the very elemental laws pay usury. He has 

 nothing to invest in a walk; it is too slow, too 

 cheap. We crave the astonishing, the exciting, the 

 far away, and do not know the highways of the gods 

 when we see them, — always a sign of the decay of 

 the faith and simplicity of man. 



If I say to my neighbor, "Come with me, I have 

 great wonders to show you," he pricks up his ears 

 and comes forthwith ; but when I take him on the 

 hills under the full blaze of the sun, or along the 

 country road, our footsteps liglited by the moon and 

 stars, and say to him, "Behold, these are the won- 

 ders, these are the circuits of the 'gods, this we now 

 tread is a morning star," he feels defrauded, and as 

 if I had played him a trick. And yet nothing less 

 than dilatation and enthusiasm like this is the badge 

 of the master walker. 



If we are not sad, we are careworn, hurried, dis- 

 contented, mortgaging the present for the promise 

 of the future. If we take a walk, it is as we 

 take a prescription, with about the same relish and 

 with about the same purpose; and the more the 



