Virginibus Puerisque, and Other PapersStevenson, Robert Louis
General
Virginibus Puerisque, and Other Papers
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Essays
Yet there is one thing I object to in these words of his, one thing in
the great master’s practice that seems to me not wholly wise. I do not
approve of that leaping and running. Both of these hurry the
respiration; they both shake up the brain out of its glorious open-air
confusion; and they both break the pace. Uneven walking is not so
agreeable to the body, and it distracts and irritates the mind. Whereas,
when once you have fallen into an equable stride, it requires no
conscious thought from you to keep it up, and yet it prevents you from
thinking earnestly of anything else. Like knitting, like the work of a
copying clerk, it gradually neutralises and sets to sleep the serious
activity of the mind. We can think of this or that, lightly and
laughingly, as a child thinks, or as we think in a morning dose; we can
make puns or puzzle out acrostics, and trifle in a thousand ways with
words and rhymes; but when it comes to honest work, when we come to
gather ourselves together for an effort, we may sound the trumpet as loud
and long as we please; the great barons of the mind will not rally to the
standard, but sit, each one, at home, warming his hands over his own fire
and brooding on his own private thought!
In the course of a day’s walk, you see, there is much variance in the
mood. From the exhilaration of the start, to the happy phlegm of the
arrival, the change is certainly great. As the day goes on, the
traveller moves from the one extreme towards the other. He becomes more
and more incorporated with the material landscape, and the open-air
drunkenness grows upon him with great strides, until he posts along the
road, and sees everything about him, as in a cheerful dream. The first
is certainly brighter, but the second stage is the more peaceful. A man
does not make so many articles towards the end, nor does he laugh aloud;
but the purely animal pleasures, the sense of physical wellbeing, the
delight of every inhalation, of every time the muscles tighten down the
thigh, console him for the absence of the others, and bring him to his
destination still content.
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