190 NATURE IN DOWNLAND 



in hot weather I have thought of the church and 

 churchyard before me as of a shaded fountain in a 

 parched desert. Arrived at the place I have gone 

 straight to the church, and am happy to say that 

 in many instances I have found it open " for private 

 meditation and prayer." When on such occasions I 

 find the door locked against me, then the building 

 is no longer what it was originally intended for, and 

 sacred, but is that inhospitable place where a cup 

 of cold water was refused me when I was athirst, 

 and my only wish is for a piece of red chalk to set 

 a mark upon it. 



Coming from the burning heat and glare of noon, 

 how grateful the coolness and how beautiful the 

 rich everlasting twilight of the interior seem ! It 

 is in the ancient peaceful village church, of all houses 

 made with hands, that one can know that perfect 

 rest and contentment, the peace which passeth under- 

 standing, experienced in our communings with nature, 

 where nature has not been marred by man. 



Only on one occasion did I experience feelings 

 very different from those I have described, in a down- 

 land church, which I found open one day at noon, my 

 favourite hour. On taking a seat about the middle of 

 the church, I noticed that there was but one memorial 

 in it — a mural tablet of enormous size — on the wall at 

 my right, lettered from top to bottom ; but for some 

 time I paid no attention to it. By-and-by turning my 

 sight that way the huge solitary marble with the big 



