THE EXHILARATIONS OF THE ROAD 27 



privilege of being run over by the engine?) In 

 strolling over the South Downs, too, I was delighted 

 to find that where the hill was steepest some bene- 

 factor of the order of walkers had made notches in 

 the sward, so that the foot could bite the better and 

 firmer; the path became a kind of stairway, which 

 I have no doubt the plowman respected. 



When you see an English country church with- 

 drawn, secluded, out of the reach of wheels, stand- 

 ing amid grassy graves and surrounded by noble 

 trees, approached by paths and shaded lanes, you 

 appreciate more than ever this beautiful habit of 

 the people. Only a race that knows how to use its 

 feet, and holds footpaths sacred, could put such a 

 charm of privacy and humility into such a structure. 

 I think I should be tempted to go to church myself 

 if I saw all my neighbors starting off across the 

 fields or along paths that led to such charmed spots, 

 and were sure I should not be jostled or run over by 

 the rival chariots of the worshipers at the temple 

 doors. I think that is what ails our religion ; humil- 

 ity and devoutness of heart leave one when he lays 

 by his walking shoes and walking clothes, and sets 

 out for church drawn by something. 



Indeed, I think it would be tantamount to an 

 astonishing revival of religion if the people would 

 all walk to church on Sunday and walk home again. 

 Think how the stones would preach to them by the 

 wayside ; how their benumbed minds would warm 



