cold February twilight, and walking from half-past five to half-past six.  I think I see a human being, wearing a very thick and rough great-coat, got for these walks, and never worn on any other occasion, walking very slowly, bearing an extremely thick oak walking-stick (I have it yet) by the shore of the bleak gray sea.  Only on the beach did I ever bear that stick; and by many touches of the sand it gradually wore down till it became too short for use.  I see the human being issuing from the door of a little parsonage (not the one where there are magnificent beeches and rich evergreens and climbing roses), and always waiting at the door for him there was a friendly dog, a terrier, with very short legs and a very long back, and shaggy to that degree that at a cursory glance it was difficult to decide which was his head and which his tail.  Ah, poor old dog, you are grown very stiff and lazy now, and time has not mellowed your temper.  Even then it was somewhat doubtful.  Not that you ever offered to bite me; but it was most unlucky, and it looked most invidious, that occasion when you rushed out of the gate and severely tore the garments of the dissenting minister!  But he was a worthy man:  and I trust that he never supposed that upon that day you acted by my instigation.  You were very active then; and so few faces did you see (though a considerable town was within a few hundred yards), that the appearance of one made you rush about and bark tremendously.  Cross a field, pass through a hedgerow of very scrubby and stunted trees, cross a railway by a path on the level, go on by a dirty track on its further side; and you come upon the sea-shore.  It is a level, sandy beach; and for a mile or two inland the ground is level, and the soil ungenial.  There are sandy downs, thinly covered with coarse grass.  Trees will hardly grow; the few trees there are, are cut down by the salt winds from the Atlantic.  The land view, in a raw twilight of early spring, is dreary beyond description; but looking across the sea, there is a magnificent view of mountain peaks.  And if you turn in another direction, and look along the shore, you will see a fine hill rising from the sea and running inland, at whose base there flows a beautiful river, which pilgrims come hundreds of miles to visit.  How often, O sandy beach, have these feet walked slowly along you!  And in these years of such walks, I did not meet or see in all six human beings.  A good many years have passed since I saw that dismal beach last; I dare say it would look very strange now.  The only excitement of those walks consisted in sending the dog into the sea, and in making him run after stones.  How tremendously he ran; what tiger-like bounds he made, as he overtook the missile!  Just such walks, my friends, many of you have taken.  Homines estis.  And then you have walked into your dwelling again, walked into your study, had tea in solitude, spent the evening alone in reading and writing.  You have got on in life, let it be hoped; but you remember