y travel on
schedule with a motor car--at least so long as pneumatic tires are used.
An obstinate case of tire trouble just as we got outside of Newark meant
a delay of an hour or more, and it was after sunset before we were again
started on our journey. There is a cathedral at Southwell, and as we
permitted no cathedral to escape us, we paused there for a short time.
It is a great country church of very unusual architecture, elevated to
the head of a diocese in 1888. The town of Southwell is a retired place
of evident antiquity and will be remembered as having been the home of
Lord Byron and his mother for some time during his youth. The route
which we followed to Nottingham was well off the main highway--a
succession of sharp turns and steep little hills that made us take
rather long chances in our flight around some of the corners. But,
luckily, the way was clear and we came into Nottingham without mishap,
though it became so dark that we were forced to light our lamps--a
thing that was necessary only two or three times during our summer's
tour.

Our route south from Nottingham was over a splendid and nearly level
road that passes through Leicester, one of the most up-to-date business
towns in the Kingdom. I do not remember any place outside of London
where streets were more congested with all kinds of traffic. The town is
of great antiquity, but its landmarks have been largely wiped out by the
modern progress it has made. We did not pause here, but directed our way
to Lutterworth, a few miles farther, where the great reformer, John
Wyclif, made his home, the famous theologian who translated the bible
into English and printed it two hundred years before the time of Martin
Luther. This act, together with his fearless preaching, brought him into
great disfavor with the church, but owing to the protection of Edward
III, who was especially friendly to him, he was able to complete his
work in spite of fierce opposition. Strangely enough, considering the
spirit of his time, Wyclif withstood the efforts of his enemies, lived
to a good old age, and died a natural death. Twenty years afterward the
Roman Church again came into power and the remains of the reformer were
exhumed and burned in the public square of Lutterworth. To still further
cover his memory with obloquy, the ashes were thrown into the clear,
still, little river that we crossed on leaving the town. But his
enemies found it too late to overthrow the work he had