field to Chesterfield, a remarkable
change came over the face of the landscape. The mosaic work of the
hill-sides and valleys showed more green squares than before.
Three-fourths of the fields were meadow or pasture, or in mangel or
turnips. There was but one here and there in wheat or other grain.
The road beneath and the sky above began to blacken, and the
chimneys of coal-pits to thicken. Sooty-faced men, horses and
donkeys passed with loaded carts; and all the premonitory aspects of
the "black country" multiplied as I proceeded. I do not recollect
ever seeing a landscape change so suddenly in England.

Chesterfield is an intelligent looking town, evidently growing in
population and prosperity. It has its own unique speciality; almost
as strikingly distinctive as that of Strasburg or Pisa. This is the
most ambiguous and mysterious church spire in the world. It would
be very difficult to convey any idea of it by any description from
an unaided pen; and there is nothing extant that would avail as an
illustration. The church is very old and large, and stands upon a
commanding eminence. The massive tower supports a tall but suddenly
tapering spire of the most puzzling construction to the eye. It
must have been designed by a monk of the olden time, with a Chinese
turn of ingenuity. There is no order known to architecture to
furnish a term or likeness for it. A ridgy, spiral spire are the
three most descriptive words, but these are not half enough for
stating the shape, style and posture of this strange steeple. It is
difficult even to assist the imagination to form an idea of it. I
will essay a few words in that direction. Suppose, then, a plain
spire, 100 feet high, in the form of an attenuated cone, planted
upon a heavy church tower. Now, in imagination, plough this cone
all around into deep ridges from top to bottom. Then mount to the
top, and, with a great iron wrench, give it an even twist clear down
to the base, so that each ridge shall wind entirely around the spire
between the bottom and the top. Then, in giving it this screw-
looking twist, bend over the top, with a gentle incline all the way
down, so that it shall be "out of perpendicular" by about three
feet. Then come down and look at your work, and you will be
astonished at it, standing far or near. The tall, ridgy, curved,
conical screw puzzles you with all sorts of optical illusions. As
the eyes in a front-face portrait follow you arou