stant places. It may then be said that there are really no bad
guide-books, and that those that are good in the highest sense are
beyond praise. A reverential sentiment, which is almost religious in
character, connects itself in our minds with the very name of Murray. It
is, however, possible to make an injudicious use of these books, and by
so doing to miss the fine point of many a pleasure. The very fact that
these books are guides to us and invaluable, and that we readily acquire
the habit of taking them about with us and consulting them at frequent
intervals, comes between us and that rarest and most exquisite enjoyment
to be experienced amidst novel scenes. He that visits a place new to him
for some special object rightly informs himself of all that the book can
tell him. The knowledge may be useful; pleasure is with him a secondary
object. But if pleasure be the main object, it will only be experienced
in the highest degree by him who goes without book and discovers what
old Fuller called the "observables" for himself. There will be no
mental pictures previously formed; consequently what is found will not
disappoint. When the mind has been permitted to dwell beforehand on
any scene, then, however beautiful or grand it may be, the element
of surprise is wanting and admiration is weak. The delight has been
discounted.

My own plan, which may be recommended only to those who go out
for pleasure--who value happiness above useless (otherwise useful)
knowledge, and the pictures that live and glow in memory above albums
and collections of photographs--is not to look at a guide-book until the
place it treats of has been explored and left behind.

The practical person, to whom this may come as a new idea and who wishes
not to waste any time in experiments, would doubtless like to hear how
the plan works. He will say that he certainly wants all the happiness to
be got out of his rambles, but it is clear that without the book in his
pocket he would miss many interesting things: Would the greater degree
of pleasure experienced in the others be a sufficient compensation?
I should say that he would gain more than he would lose; that vivid
interest and pleasure in a few things is preferable to that fainter,
more diffused feeling experienced in the other case. Again, we have to
take into account the value to us of the mental pictures gathered in our
wanderings. For we know that only when a scene is viewed emotionally,
when it pr