e others who were happy to receive it.

I returned home sooner than I was expected, and told my people, at the
evening meeting, the things I had seen and heard; and they "glorified
God."

CHAPTER 19

A Mission in the "Shires." 1853.

At the time of which I am writing, twenty-six or twenty-seven years ago,
special services for preaching were not called by the name of
"Missions." I think that word has been derived from some Roman Catholic
perverts, who made aggressive efforts in London, which they called
"Catholic Missions." From them it has been adopted by some who love to
copy Rome and Romish phrases. Strange infatuation, by which these
Romanizers in vain court a Church which despises them, and gives them
neither place nor quarter! However, the word is now well understood, and
its meaning is plainer than any definitions of mine could make it.

My first journey to "foreign parts" (as the Cornish call it) was to a
town in Devonshire, where I stopped three or four days. The day I
arrived I preached in the church, because it was the regular evening
service; special services were not then known, unless it was for some
Missionary Society, or other such advocacy. The idea of preaching to
awaken souls, was considered very strange and fanatical. The church I
preached in had high pews, which prevented my seeing the occupants. I
was told that it was full, and certainly there were faces visible here
and there; but the whole congregation was so still, that the dropping of
the proverbial "pin" might have been heard. It was all very chilling and
dead, no "Amens!" or "Glory!" as in Cornwall; indeed, the stillness had
such an effect upon me, that I found it difficult to get on. After
making two or three hard appeals, and meeting with nothing but silence
for a response, I concluded, and came away much disappointed and
disheartened. However, the next morning, the vicar showed me some beads,
leathers, and flowers which had been left in the pews of the church. So
I found that the shots had hit somewhere, or something.

Walking through the town in the course of the day, a tall mason, with a
large whitewash brush in his hand, came running after me (not to
whitewash me) but to ask the question, which he did most eagerly, "Are
you the man that preached last night?"

I said, "Yes, I am."

"Oh," he replied, "will you preach tonight?"

I answered him somewhat doubtfully, "I suppose not," for the vicar did
not know what excuse there co