riven in from the country to bring some relatives of his to the
train, and did not care to go back alone. "Would one of us, or both,
take pity on him, and give him our company?" As soon as he heard of our
position he greatly rejoiced, and said, "Come, all of you; I have plenty
of room!" He took the invalid, with some of the children. I shut up the
house, and followed with the others and the nurse, in the fly, which
duly arrived at two o'clock. By five o'clock we were all out in the
green fresh country, and our patient was already revived, and walking
about the garden.

There happened to be a farm-house vacant, which we took, and removing
some of the furniture, made it comfortable for the present. This we
called "home" for a little time during my unsettled state.

CHAPTER 28

A Mission to the North, 1855.

When my family were all comfortably settled and surrounded by kind
friends, I went off to the north of England, on a visit to a clergyman,
who had invited me. He had already suffered for doing this on a previous
occasion, in the diocese of Oxford; where the bishop took away his
licence, because he had me to preach for him. The real cause of offence
was, that there was a revival in the parish; and complaint was made to
the bishop, that people were kept up till "all hours of the night,
howling and praying." His lordship sent forthwith for my friend's
licence; I advised him to send it, saying, "He will be sure to return it
to you; but perhaps with a reprimand." Instead of this, the bishop kept
it, and said that he would countersign his testimonials to go to another
diocese. My friend was at first disgusted and disposed to rebel; but
instead of this, he bore the treatment patiently; and went to another
position and charge at G--, in the north of England.

Thither, nothing afraid, he invited me to come. In this part of the
country I found a hearty lively people, something like the Cornish. Here
I soon regained my spirits, and got to work in right earnest.

In this place a revival began at once; and every day we had people
crying for mercy, very much in the way they did in Cornwall. Among
others, there came to the church on Sunday afternoon, a tall
Yorkshireman, in his working clothes. He stood under the gallery, in his
shirt sleeves, with a clay pipe sticking out of his waistcoat pocket,
and a little cap on his head. I fancy I can see him now, standing erect,
looking earnestly at me while I was preaching, with his h