In the case of a clergyman, a taste for keeping his churchyard
in becoming order is just like a taste for keeping his garden and
shrubbery in order: only let him begin the work, and the taste
will grow. There is latent in the mind of every man, unless he be
the most untidy and unobservant of the species, a love for well-mown
grass and for sharply outlined gravel-walks. My brethren, credite
experto. I did not know that in my soul there was a chord that
vibrated responsive to trim gravel and grass, till I tried, and
lo! it was there. Try for yourselves: you do not know, perhaps,
the strange affinities that exist between material and immaterial
nature. If any youthful clergyman shall read these lines, who knows
in his conscience that his churchyard-walks are grown up with weeds,
and the graves covered with nettles, upon sight hereof let him summon
his man-servant, or get a labourer if he have no man-servant. Let
him provide a reaping-hook and a large new spade. These implements
will suffice in the meantime. Proceed to the churchyard: do not
get disheartened at its neglected look, and turn away. Begin at
the entrance-gate. Let all the nettles and long grass for six feet
on. either side of the path be carefully cut down and gathered
into heaps. Then mark out with a line the boundaries of the first
ten yards of the walk. Fall to work and cut the edges with the spade;
clear away the weeds and grass that have overspread the walk, also
with the spade. In a little time you will feel the fascination
of the sharp outline of the walk against the grass on each side.
And I repeat, that to the average human being there is something
inexpressibly pleasing in that sharp outline. By the time the ten
yards of walk are cut, you will find that you have discovered a new
pleasure and a new sensation; and from that day will date a love
of tidy walks and grass;--and what more is needed to make a pretty
churchyard? The fuchsias, geraniums, and so forth, are of the nature