l
the ground in America? I was young, and youth was the time to marry in,
and to labour in. I had the use of all my faculties; my eyes, it is
true, were rather dull from early study, and from writing the Life of
Joseph Sell; but I could see tolerably well with them, and they were not
bleared. I felt my arms, and thighs, and teeth--they were strong and
sound enough; so now was the time to labour, to marry, eat strong flesh,
and beget strong children--the power of doing all this would pass away
with youth, which was terribly transitory. I bethought me that a time
would come when my eyes would be bleared, and, perhaps, sightless; my
arms and thighs strengthless and sapless; when my teeth would shake in my
jaws, even supposing they did not drop out. No going a wooing then, no
labouring, no eating strong flesh, and begetting lusty children then; and
I bethought me how, when all this should be, I should bewail the days of
my youth as misspent, provided I had not in them founded for myself a
home, and begotten strong children to take care of me in the days when I
could not take care of myself; and thinking of these things, I became
sadder and sadder, and stared vacantly upon the fire till my eyes closed
in a doze.

* * * * *

On I went in my journey, traversing England from west to east, ascending
and descending hills, crossing rivers by bridge and ferry, and passing
over extensive plains. What a beautiful country is England! People run
abroad to see beautiful countries, and leave their own behind unknown,
unnoticed--their own the most beautiful! And then, again, what a country
for adventures! especially to those who travel it on foot, or on
horseback. People run abroad in quest of adventures, and traverse Spain
or Portugal on mule or on horseback; whereas there are ten times more
adventures to be met with in England than in Spain, Portugal, or stupid
Germany to boot. Witness the number of adventures narrated in the
present book--a book entirely devoted to England. Why, there is not a
chapter in the present book which is not full of adventures, with the
exception of the present one, and this is not yet terminated.

After traversing two or three counties, I reached the confines of
Lincolnshire. During one particularly hot day I put up at a
public-house, to which, in the evening, came a party of harvesters to
make merry, who, finding me wandering about the house a stranger, invited
me to partake of their ale; so I