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164
Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore
·
Charles Kingsley
39
have
become
impossible
for
the
greater
number:
and
athletic
exercises
are
now,
in
England
at
least,
becoming
more
and
more
artificialized
and
expensive;
and
are
confined
more
and
more—
with
the
honourable
exception
of
the
football
games
in
Battersea
Park—
to
our
Public
Schools
and
the
two
elder
Universities.
All
honour,
meanwhile,
to
the
Volunteer
movement,
and
its
moral
as
well
as
its
physical
effects.
But
it
is
only
a
comparatively
few
of
the
very
sturdiest
who
are
likely
to
become
effective
Volunteers,
and
so
really
gain
the
benefits
of
learning
to
be
soldiers.
And
yet
the
young
man
who
has
had
no
substitute
for
such
occupations
will
cut
but
a
sorry
figure
in
Australia,
Canada,
or
India;
and
if
he
stays
at
home,
will
spend
many
a
pound
in
doctors’
bills,
which
could
have
been
better
employed
elsewhere.
“Taking
a
walk”—
as
one
would
take
a
pill
or
a
draught—
seems
likely
soon
to
become
the
only
form
of
outdoor
existence
possible
for
too
many
inhabitants
of
the
British
Isles.
But
a
walk
without
an
object,
unless
in
the
most
lovely
and
novel
of
scenery,
is
a
poor
exercise;
and
as
a
recreation,
utterly
nil.
I
never
knew
two
young
lads
go
out
for
a
“constitutional,”
who
did
not,
if
they
were
commonplace
youths,
gossip
the
whole
way
about
things
better
left
unspoken;
or,
if
they
were
clever
ones,
fall
on
arguing
and
brainsbeating
on
politics
or
metaphysics
from
the
moment
they
left
the
door,
and
return
with
their
wits
even
more
heated
and
tired
than
they
were
when
they
set
out.
I
cannot
help
fancying
that
Milton
made
a
mistake
in
a
certain
celebrated
passage;
and
that
it
was
not
“sitting
on
a
hill
apart,”
but
tramping
four
miles
out
and
four
miles
in
along
a
turnpike-road,
that
his
hapless
spirits
discoursed
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