“I have met but one or two persons who have understood the art of Walking, who have had a genius for sauntering: which word is beautifully derived from idle people who roved about the country in the Middle Ages and asked charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte Terre to the Holy Land, until the children exclaimed, “There goes a Sainte-Terrer,” a Saunterer.

Every walk is a sort of crusade, but we are but faint-hearted crusaders nowadays, who undertake no persevering, never-ending enterprises. Our expeditions are but tours, and come round again at evening to the old hearth-side from which we set out. Half the walk is but retracing our steps. We should go forth on the shortest walk, perchance, in the spirit of undying adventure, never to return. If you are ready to leave behind father and mother, and wife and child and friends, and never see them again,—if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and are a free man, then you are ready for a walk.