Of the
Mediterranean lave the mountainous coast of sunny Italy; in the
fertile lowlands of Belgium; or out where the Alps rear their
snowy summits, we felt ourselves less alien when we could detect
kinship between European and American plants.
But to visit foreign lands is not our real need, for if we fail
to see the common beauty everywhere about us how much can we
hope to find in a strange land?
Most people take their cares along with them to the woods and
hills, but there is little use of going to the woods, lakes, or
mountains without going there in spirit. We must, like real
travelers, get rid of our excess baggage, as did the boys who
went over the top, if we would really get anywhere.
So many people consider it a waste of time to learn of some of
the wonders God has placed about them, yet, God loved beauty or
never would He have been so prodigal of it. If we really try, we
too can see wherein it is good. "Consider the lilies of the
field," for their consideration will in no way hinder your true
success.
Thoreau said: "If the day and night are such as you, greet them
with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet
scented herbs; is more elastic, more starry, more immortal - that
is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have
cause momentarily to bless yourself."
If the reader finds anything of merit in this rambling book of
travel it will be due to the various quotations interspersed
throughout it. If he is inspired to a greater love for the
beauty of God's creation, to be found in his own immediate
environment, or feels a deeper pleasure in listening to the
music of singing bird or rippling stream, we shall be truly
grateful.
CHAPTER I
WAYSIDE SKETCHES
In beginning on our journey we disregarded Horace Greeley's
advice and went east. True, the course of empires has ever been
Westward and the richest gold fields lie in that direction. But
the glamour which surrounds this land of "flowing gold" has
caused vast numbers to lose their interest in both worlds, until
they missed the joys in this and the radiant hope of that to
come.
"All that glitters is not gold,
Gilded tombs do worms infold."
The land of the rising sun is not less lovely than that of its
setting. There is a freshness and a parity in the early dawn not
found in the evening time, and the birds greet the purpling east
with their sweetest songs. No one may know how cheerful, how far
reaching, how thrilling the singing of birds may be unless he
has listened to them telling the gladness of the morning while
the last star melts in the glowing east.
