What a glorious thing to see people and sovereign linked so together, keeping in the front rank of civilisation, and carrying civilisation and Christianity--carrying civilisation, Christianity-- 'Great God, deliver me from this terrible haunting spirit of doubt! Give me back full faith and peace.' Now he began to hurry. He went up Constitution Hill, crossed Piccadilly, and entered the Park at Hyde Park Corner. There were very few people here now. It was dreary and desolate. The bare trees looked sad and deserted in the bleak grey air. They seemed the forgotten skeletons of funeral plumes that had waved over the dead season. Nothing here appealed to his imagination. He continued his walk. Having followed the Serpentine for some minutes, he broke off from it near the Humane Society's House, and found his way out of the Park in the Bayswater Road through the Victoria Gate. He walked to his left, and turned up into Kensington Garden Terrace, and thence into the Grand Junction Road. Keeping north and following the bend of the road, he came into the Marylebone Road. He held on until he came to Park Square; he turned into the west side of Park Square; then taking a wheel to the right, and then one to the left, he entered the Broad Walk of Regent's Park. 'The Zoological Gardens!' he exclaimed to himself, with an inward shudder. He was moving away to go, when he suddenly thought, 'Coward.' Am I a coward? Am I afraid to look any of God's creatures in the face?' He turned on his heel and entered the Gardens. Like the Park, they were almost deserted. But, unlike the Park, they were full of interest to him. Some of the books he had recently been looking into, had begun as treatises on natural history, and ended as indictments against faith. It was a little past two o'clock, and few people were in front of the cages, so he had every opportunity of inspecting the collection. He looked into cage after cage with steady disliking eyes. There was a feeling of impulsion towards the cages, and repulsion from the creatures behind the bars. The grey and gloomy day deadened his spirits. He had slept nothing the night before. He had eaten nothing that day. He did not notice the weather was dull. He did not remember he had not slept. He had no knowledge of whether he had eaten or not. All he knew was, he was trying to beat down his mind, and he thought open air and exercise were the best remedies for his disease. But this zoological collection had been thrown across his path like a challenge, and come what might, he had taken up the glove. For half-an-hour he wandered from cage to cage, until at last he stood in front of the monkey-house. He paused awhile here, looked from right to left, as though he would avoid the place if he could, then set his face resolutely, and entered. As with the rest of the place, the monkey-house was almost deserted. There were not more than a dozen people in it.