from him, and he is ready to pity and help his less happy brethren.  After he has settled to labour again, his hours of rest are made calmly contented by the chance visions that come to him and show him the blown sea, the rustling whiteness of fretted surges, the painted meadows, and the solemn colours of the dying day.  And all this talk we have got only through letting our minds go wandering away on the subject of going a-walking.  I have always said that the sweetest pleasures are almost costless.  The placid “look of the bay mare” took all the silliness out of Walt Whitman; and there is more in his queer phrase than meets the eye.  One word.  When you go a-walking, do not try to be obtrusively merry.  Meet a group of tramping gentlemen who have been beer-drinking at noon; they are surprisingly vivacious until the gaze of the sun becomes importunate; they even sing as they go, and their hearty laughter resounds far and near.  See them in the afternoon, and ask where the merriment is; their eyes are glazed, their nerves crave slumber, their steps are by no mean sprightly, and they probably form a doleful company, ready to quarrel or think pessimistic thoughts.  Be calm, placid, even; do not expect too much, and your reward will be rich.

June, 1888.

"SPORT."

Simple folk fancy that “sport” must be a joyous pursuit, and that a sportsman is a jovial, light-hearted, and rather innocent person.  It may be useful to many parents, and perhaps to some young people, if I let them know what “sport” really means nowadays.  Those who have their imaginations filled with pictures of merry red-coated riders, or of sturdy gaitered squires tramping through stubble behind their dogs, are quite welcome to their agreeable visions.  The hounds of course meet in hundreds of places in winter-time, and the bold riders charge gaily across meadows and over fences.  It is a splendid, exhilarating sight; and no one can find much fault with the pursuit, for it gives health to thousands.  The foxes may perhaps object a little; but, if a philosopher could explain to them that, if they were not preserved for hunting purposes, they would soon be exterminated, we have no doubt that they would choose the alternative which gives them a chance.  Shooting is engaged in with more enthusiasm now than ever it was before; and doubtless the gentlemen who sit in snug corners and knock down tame pheasants derive benefit—­physical and moral—­from the lively exercise.  But the word “sport” in England does not now refer to hunting and shooting; it has a wide application, and it describes in a generic way a number of pursuits which are, to say the least, not improving to those who engage in them.