not that the mind is inactive, but that it will run
exactly whither it is not bidden to go. With subtle ingenuity, it will
find for itself little easy tasks, instead of setting itself down on
that which it is its duty to do at once. With me, I own, it is so weak
as to fly back to things already done, which require no more thinking,
which are, perhaps, unworthy of a place even in the memory, and to revel
in the ease of contemplating that which has been accomplished, rather
than to struggle for further performance. My eyes, which should become
moist with the troubles of the embryo heroine, shed tears as they call
to mind the early sorrow of Mr. ----, who was married and made happy
many years ago. Then, when it comes to this, a great effort becomes
necessary, or that day will for me have no results. It is so easy to
lose an hour in maundering over the past, and to waste the good things
which have been provided in remembering instead of creating!

"But a word about the nature of the wood! It is not always easy to find
a wood, and sometimes when you have got it, it is but a muddy, plashy,
rough-hewn congregation of ill-grown trees,--a thicket rather than a
wood,--in which even contemplation is difficult, and thinking is out of
the question. He who has devoted himself to wandering in woods will
know at the first glance whether the place will suit his purpose. A
crowded undergrowth of hazel, thorn, birch, and elder, with merely a
track through it, will by no means serve the occasion. The trees around
you should be big and noble. There should be grass at your feet. There
should be space for the felled or fallen princes of the forest. A
roadway with the sign of wheels that have passed long since will be an
advantage, so long as the branches above your head shall meet or seem to
meet each other. I will not say that the ground should not be level,
lest by creating difficulties I shall seem to show that the fitting spot
may be too difficult to be found; but, no doubt, it will be an
assistance in the work to be done if occasionally you can look down on
the tops of the trees as you descend, and again look up to them as with
increasing height they rise high above your head. And it should be a
wood--perhaps a forest--rather than a skirting of timber. You should
feel that, if not lost, you are losable. To have trees around you is not
enough, unless you have many. You must have a feeling as of Adam in the
garden. There must be a confirme