'Life is earnest,' as the poet says.

But I and my dog are rested now, and as I have still a long walk before me I must wish you good-day." "I fear," said Kenelm, with a grave and sweet politeness of tone and manner, which he could command at times, and which, in its difference from merely conventional urbanity, was not without fascination,--"I fear that I have offended you by a question that must have seemed to you inquisitive, perhaps impertinent; accept my excuse: it is very rarely that I meet any one who interests me; and you do." As he spoke he offered his hand, which the wayfarer shook very cordially.
"I should be a churl indeed if your question could have given me offence.

It is rather perhaps I who am guilty of impertinence, if I take advantage of my seniority in years and tender you a counsel.

Do not despise Nature or regard her as a steam-engine; you will find in her a very agreeable and conversable friend if you will cultivate her intimacy.

And I don't know a better mode of doing so at your age, and with your strong limbs, than putting a knapsack on your shoulders and turning foot-traveller like myself." "Sir, I thank you for your counsel; and I trust we may meet again and interchange ideas as to the thing you call Nature,--a thing which science and art never appear to see with the same eyes.