, from want of the
society to which he had of late been accustomed. But this unusual mood of
mind soon gave way to the influence of his natural good spirits, excited
by the exercise and the bracing effects of the frosty air. He whistled as
he went along, not 'from want of thought,' but to give vent to those
buoyant feelings which he had no other mode of expressing. For each
peasant whom he chanced to meet he had a kind greeting or a good-humoured
jest; the hardy Cumbrians grinned as they passed, and said, 'That's a
kind heart, God bless un!' and the market-girl looked more than once over
her shoulder at the athletic form, which corresponded so well with the
frank and blythe address of the stranger. A rough terrier dog, his
constant companion, who rivalled his master in glee, scampered at large
in a thousand wheels round the heath, and came back to jump up on him and
assure him that he participated in the pleasure of the journey. Dr.
Johnson thought life had few things better than the excitation produced
by being whirled rapidly along in a post-chaise; but he who has in youth
experienced the confident and independent feeling of a stout pedestrian
in an interesting country, and during fine weather, will hold the taste
of the great moralist cheap in comparison.

Part of Brown's view in choosing that unusual track which leads through
the eastern wilds of Cumberland into Scotland, had been a desire to view
the remains of the celebrated Roman Wall, which are more visible in that
direction than in any other part of its extent. His education had been
imperfect and desultory; but neither the busy scenes in which he had been
engaged, nor the pleasures of youth, nor the precarious state of his own
circumstances, had diverted him from the task of mental improvement. 'And
this then is the Roman Wall,' he said, scrambling up to a height which
commanded the course of that celebrated work of antiquity. 'What a
people! whose labours, even at this extremity of their empire,
comprehended such space, and were executed upon a scale of such grandeur!
In future ages, when the science of war shall have changed, how few
traces will exist of the labours of Vauban and Coehorn, while this
wonderful people's remains will even then continue to interest and
astonish posterity! Their fortifications, their aqueducts, their
theatres, their fountains, all their public works, bear the grave, solid,
and majestic character of their language; while our modern