several of our large towns. His congregations were mostly very large, and the excitement he produced was intense. Thousands regarded him as a very special messenger-a prophet to whom God vouchsafed particular revelations. His sermons generally were very short, and those that I heard him preach were incoherent and full of rhapsody; at the same time I could not but admire the general delicacy and beauty of his accent, pronunciation, tone, and emphasis. I thought him the most polished man for a revivalist I ever heard. He would come for three nights in succession with the same text, telling us "the Lord" had instructed him to do so. But I knew perfectly well, while he was with us, that his days were employed not so much in pulpit preparations as in writing his volumes of "Letters" for the press. The most remarkable thing in his proceedings was, his holding "penitent benches," or calling people round the communion rails to be prayed for and directed to "believe," that they might "get liberty" from their sins, and know that they were pardoned. He went about among the people in the pews urging them vehemently to come up to the rail, and be prayed for. numbers of them obeyed him; but as a preliminary step I used to notice him giving previous and private instructions in the vestry, and terrifying them, especially girls and young women, by intimating that they must come to the rail or incur the risk of going to hell!

Great

I went into this thing for a night or two, fancying it might be right, and addressed the congre

gation in his favour; but I soon saw more than enough to convince me that the affair contained much delusion, and was not entirely free from imposition. Some good indeed was done, and much harm also. It would take a book to give my whole mind on the subject of this Revivalist and his revivals. He appeared to me to be a good scholar, and a man of genius and taste; but he was a great curiosity, and, if report be true, munificently rewarded for his services. Englishmen will sometimes give more for curiosities than ordinary things of greater value. In most of the places where he exercised his peculiar "calling," the services of the regular ministers were for a time suspended. How could the people endure to hear the preaching of mortal men, when to their thinking they had got an angel? In my private conversations with him I saw nothing to dislike. He enjoyed a bit of innocent fun in the way of anecdote. "He was," said a brother minister to me, as playful as a kitten." As a companion in the parlour I rather admired him; but in his public work as a revivalist I could not go all his length, and I told him so. What we do in public is open to public and even private comment, and therefore I do no wrong by using my most unquestionable liberty of making my statement and shewing my opinion. It has ever appeared to me that every Christian minister as such is a revivalist; not indeed in the modern and popular acceptation of that term, but in effect. No good man can faithfully preach the word of God without reviving Christianity more or less, either

by bringing sinners to repentance, or improving the piety of such as believe. Therefore men should not set up distinctions without a real difference. To give a preacher the supplementary title of "revivalist" is to give him a fictitious elevation above other men, many of whom may be much superior, in all solid qualifications, to himself.

Chesterfield is remarkable for its parish church with a crooked spire. The neighbourhood, with the county at large, is famed for noble hills and extensive prospects. It is also distinguished for ancient mansions and castles. Chatsworth, the seat of the Duke of Devonshire, and other important places, are so well known that it would be a waste of time for me to trouble the reader about them. Derbyshire is justly famous for its hills, mountains, caverns, and rocks; but go to Chesterfield or to Derby and the booksellers will, at a moderate price, let you have a volume containing all the information you need about Chesterfield, and the "appurtenances thereof." I am very sorry I cannot stay to describe this singularly beautiful county.

CHAPTER XIII.

I

MADELEY.

SECTION I.

HAVE not seen the "Banks of the Severn," through the whole length of their course, and shall therefore leave them to the prose, poetical, and graphical description of all who love the picturesque, the beautiful, and the sublime, who choose to follow me up by a more extended, elaborate, and philosophical description. And as to those departments of Severn's banks which I have seen, the geologist must excuse me for leaving the strata and minerals to the study and development of his own genius and capabilities as a man of science and a philosopher. I freely confess that it is no compliment to myself to say that I have not studied geology. A Christian cannot study every thing. "Of many things, my son," says Thomas à Kempis, "content thyself with being ignorant."

The banks of the Severn, at Iron Bridge and its vicinity, will ever be interesting to pious clergymen and Wesleyan ministers, on account of their connexion with Madeley, once the residence of the Rev.

John Fletcher. When a Methodist minister is put by the Conference to be stationed at Madeley, he thinks of Fletcher. He persuades himself he is going to stand on "holy ground," and, superstition apart, he is not altogether mistaken. Fletcher laid the foundation of that practical Christianity which, before his time, had scarcely the germ of existence in these mining districts. Consult his "Life," either by Benson or Cox, or both, and see his ministry and the fruits of it. For me to write even "recollections" of Fletcher, would be mere affectation; it is enough for me to say, that his spirit exists in the faithful preaching of the present vicar and the neighbouring clergy. I often see his tomb. I have seen his study, the chamber in which he died. I have occupied the pulpit in which he preached (not to preach). I have preached in one of the chapels he built, and seen and handled many little articles of property that belonged to him. I have listened to many traditional accounts of him, which serve to convince me that he was great and good,— -one to whom the language of our national poet, Shakespeare, may probably be more fitly applied than to the father of Hamlet, prince of Denmark,—

"He was a MAN, take him for all in all,

We shall not look upon his like again."

Now for the Banks. In Madeley itself you see nothing remarkable as to banks. It is a long, populous village, consisting for the most part of plain, comfortable houses for miners and colliers