shall I do that I may again obtain strength and confidence?-that I may exercise faith, and be able to pray and to love?" The old gentleman exhorted the young man like a father, in a most kind and friendly manner, to persevere in prayer, and to wrestle with increased earnestness, although he might feel himself ever so miserable, and although he might be ever so much at a loss for words to express himself. God, he remark ed, sometimes suffers the heart of man to be tossed to and fro by doubts and unbelief, that it may earnestly seek, and finally find an anchor, eternal and unmoveable, which cannot be shaken by any waves. The old man also related how he had answered and refuted the doubts of some witty heathens, in regard to the truth of the gospel. But as is often the case with old people, who are fond of talking, he imperceptibly began to relate the remarkable experience and adventures of his journey, both on water and land, among Christians and heathens; and he did this in such a pleasant and interesting manner, and so very minutely, with a mixture both of joy and grief, that the young man seemed as if he was present, and witnessing all that he heard; and for a few moments he forgot-as indeed the old man himself had really forgotten-how and in what way he was led to this narration. All at once, however, as if necessarily called away, he broke off, dismissed the young man affectionately, and invited him to visit him again at a certain hour. The young man accordingly appeared at the appointed time. "Now," said the old father, very kindly, "I have related to you in our last interview, nothing but adventures and occurrences arising from my own journey." "Your relations," replied the young man, "have been to me a source of joy, and have truly refreshed and edified me." "do "But," says the old man, you believe that all I have said is the truth?" His young inquirer replied, "Your pious and serious countenance, and your luminous eye, do not indicate that you are capable of relating falsehood; I believe that all you have related is true." "But have not I," asked the old man, "invented many things as adventures, and added them to my own experience? Have I not really magnified, embellished, and adorned the accounts I have given you?" "Your words," said the young man, "are so simple and artless, and so entirely credible, that I do not believe you have added any thing of your own; I do not think you have made any additions or embellishments, but that you have related every thing faithfully, and just as it happened." "And now then, my son," said the reverend father, "you believe me, who am a poor, sinful, and erring man; you believe and confide in all I have related; but the disciples of our Lord, who saw him, who heard him, who handled him, who were filled and led by his own Spirit -a Spirit who put the words into their mouths; men who were so unaffected, and so faithful, and so every way credible in what they say these men you will not believe." There was such a power accompanying these words of the old man, that our youth felt himself relieved at once from all the doubts and anxious thoughts that troubled him. The tears now trickled down his cheeks; and filled with pungent sorrow for his incredulity, he returned home, repaired to his closet, fell upon his knees, yea upon his face, and acknowledged himself before God as a poor, erring, disobedient sinner. In this manner he found forgiveness in Christ; and having obtained pardon, peace, joy, and ardent love, he became, as an author, as a publick teacher, and by his exemplary life, a blessing to many thousands. Miscellaneous. NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. (Continued from p. 305.) Manchester, England, May 28th, 1828. Last evening, when our post chaise drove up to the door of the Hotel, where we are now staying, it was amusing to see the bustle into which our little party threw the whole establishment. There was such a ringing of bells, and calling of servants, that I really began to think myself of more importance than usual. The Hotel stands at the corner of the two principal streets, facing in front an open space belonging to the Public Infirmary, ornamented with shrubbery and an artificial pond of water. Á description of this Hotel, and its management, will give you a good idea of all similar houses of entertainment in England. All the apartments are clean, and furnished in a neat and tasty manner. There is always one room, which is common to every traveller. When you first arrive, the principal waiter of the establishment assists you in getting from the carriage, by holding up his arm for a support-a man they call Boots then takes charge of your luggage, and a well dressed chambermaid shows you to your room. These three servants, though you have many others to wait upon you, are the only ones who require you a fee upon leaving the house -and as this fee is not arbitrary, I always summed it up in my account, when paying the other charges to the head waiter; for as the landlord seldom makes his appearance, this important personage receives the payment of all bills, issues all orders, and seems to have the entire control of the house. This custom of the guest paying the wages of the servants, insures to the traveller the utmost civility and attention. No fixed of hours are observed for meals-you may breakfast, dine, and sup at any time you choose, in the common room, or alone, if you prefer it. If you simply ask for breakfast, you will get nothing but tea, which you are obliged to make, and pour out for yourself, with a small slice of toast, a hot muffin or roll, and a little piece of butter, which is literally fresh, having scarcely any salt in its composition. Such frugal breakfasts were not congenial with my habits, and I commonly added a beefsteak, or two or three eggs, to the muffins and toast. To eat any thing in the morning, or to have a keen appetite, is here considered quite ungenteel; but at dinner you may gormandize as much as you please, and be the finished gentleman. Dinner of course is the principal meal, and you may select from a very ample bill of fare any articles you choose. A separate charge is made for every dish, and hence a dinner may cost you three or four shillings, or almost as many gui neas. Tea in the evening is but little thought of here, but to me you know it is indispensable. Manchester, though quite a large place, the second in population in England, contains but little, except its cotton and woollen manufactures, to interest the stranger; and as the annual races commenced this day, we could do nothing with them, as the artizans were all keeping holyday. I went therefore for the first time to a race course, and in two or three hours found myself heartily sick and tired of the business. The mob was very much the same as would probably have been collected, on a similar occasion, in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia-the multitude of beggars, the blind, the lame, the deformed, and the maimed, constituted the principal difference. The sports of the turf in this country may be called a noble employment, for they are specially patronized by the king and the nobility. Some of the horses of Lord Grosvenor were to run to-day, and they were to be opposed by those of a popular commoner, who has amassed an immense estate by the woollen trade. The populace appeared wonderfully excited on this occasion, and nothing could exceed their noisy exultation, to find that his Lordship's horse was beaten at every heat, by that of the commoner. I understood that the Earl reared his coursers only in compliance with the fashion-that he never sees them, and that the whole management of these affairs is left entirely to his grooms. The shows or sights, exhibited on the race ground, were, many of them, silly and childish in the extreme-there were giants and dwarfs, and Punch and Judy, and Scaramouch, and what not. But these were nothing to the gross buffoonery, and indecent dancing, of a set of shameless creatures, in the form of human and accountable beings. I saw also here, a pugilistick combat, or a set-to, between an American negro, and a Yorkshireman, in which the Yorkshire bully was finished. I turned away in disgust from all these scenes, and left Lord Grosvenor's filley, and the commoner's horse, to win or lose the next silver cup and golden purse, as they might. While sauntering homewards, I thought, are these the amusements with which the labouring poor recreate themselves? is this the manner in which the race of horses is to be improved, at the expense of the race of man? In the evening I went to see Mr. John Dalton, the principal object of my visit to this place, a chemist whose name will be as long and as extensively known as his favourite science itself. He is quite an active old man, small in stature, of plain appearance, and easy manners. I found him busily employed, in ter- 29th. At an early hour I hastened to pay my visit to Mr. Dalton, and passed some time in his little laboratory, which occupies one of the rooms of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester. We examined the instruments and the rooms of the society together. A good half length portrait of Mr. D. is at one end of the room in which the society meets, and of which he is the president. On the opposite wall is the portrait of Mr. Henry, father of the present Dr. Henry, author of the chemistry so long used in America, as a text book in our colleges. He is highly respected by all the inhabitants of this town. I regretted to learn from Mr. Dalton that Dr. Henry was probably away from home. I was much gratified in examining the rooms and the furniture of this society. Several volumes of its transactions I had perused long ago, and though there are many erroneous views in the metaphysical discussions contained in them, yet they are enriched with many interesting and important papers. It is pleasing to find in this place, where the greater part of the population are absorbed in the acquisition of money, a very considerable taste for science, and a disposition to cultivate those pursuits, which expand, liberalize, and polish the mind. There is a large old church at Manchester, which is worthy of notice-it contains a number of mouldering tombs of the ancient nobility, and is ornamented with rude carvings and statues. The news room is a commodious well furnished establishment. I examined very cursorily some of the cotton and woollen factories, for which this place is so celebrated; but I was neither surprised, nor very much gratified by the inspection, for I had already seen, in several parts of my own country, many of the processes on quite as extensive a scale. I was before familiar with the incessant din of revolving wheels, the buzz of a thousand whirling spools, and the harsh sound of countless shuttles. There are, however, many important processes in the manufacture of stuffs, and much intricate machinery to effect them, which are peculiar to this place; but to attempt to describe them, would for me "be impossible, if it were endeavoured, and would be foolish, if it were possible." The wonderful mechanical genius of Sir Richard Arkwright is here every where displayed, and he is one of the few geniuses, who, from want and obscurity, rose to fame and fortune. The moral evils which extensive manufacturing establishments always bring along with them, are proverbial; and from the little I saw of Manchester, I have no doubt that her vast manufactories, though they have contributed much to her population, wealth, and importance, add nothing to the hospitality, virtue, or piety of her inhabitants. We left Manchester in the stage coach, the outside seats of which are the best in every respect for the stranger, except in case of rain, which by the way is not much to be regarded, while travelling in this country. The inside is very confined, and your view is always limited to a very small portion of the country-for night travelling, however, the inside is certainly to be preferred. An English stage coach is very much like the best of those now used in the United States, except a kind of frame work attached to the body of the coach behind, in which the outside passengers commonly sit. There is also a seat on the box with the driver, and a bench fastened to the front, immediately behind the driver, which will accommodate three passengers-these front seats are the best. No person rides absolutely on the top, as I had heard -this is reserved for the luggage. Many of the common coaches, and all of those which carry the mail, are protected by a guard, who rides behind, is armed, and is dressed in a red coat, which is the king's livery. He has the direction of the coachman, who never leaves the box-regulates the hours of departure and stopping, for which he is accountable to the proprietors, and assists the passengers in all their little concerns. For every stage of 9 or 10 miles, both he and the coachman receive a small fee, which is said to be gratuitous-but it is always demanded, if the payment of it should be neglected. I have found the company in an English stage coach, vastly more communicative and agreeable than it is in America-a circumstance directly the reverse of what I had been led to expect. Our journey for this day was to Leeds the whole road was delightful. For many miles out of Manchester it passed through a continuous village; the country then becomes hilly, and the inhabitants clustered together into small neat towns; the soil being generally possessed by rich landholders. The hedges were peculiarly beautiful, being interspersed with pink, white, and orange flowers, of rich fragrance-the birds were numerous, tame, and quite noisy. I could not distinguish a single note in their warblings, similar to our birds in America-both the birds and the insects are as much strangers to me here as the people. When the road passed over the hills, the prospect was perfectly novel-the little farms cut up into small patches, by the hedge-rows and stone fencing, looked exactly like a dissected map. The high grounds are cultivated to the very summits of the hills. Here and there snug stone cottages, surrounded with deep green shrubbery, enlivened, beautified, and gave variety to the landscape. It is the moral feeling, connected with these little home scenes of rural repose and sheltered quiet, which renders such prospects so delightful. Irving's remarks on English scenery are precisely applicable to this part of the country. "Every antique farm house, and moss grown cottage, is a picture and as the roads are a continually winding, and the view shut in by groves and hedges, the eye is delighted by a continual succession of small landscapes of captivating loveliness. Every thing seems to be the growth of ages of regular and peaceful existence. The old church of remote architecture, with its low massive portal, its gothic tower, its windows rich with tracery and painted glass, in scrupulous preservation; its stately monuments of warriors and worthies of the olden time, ancestors of the present lords of the soil; its tombstones, recording successive generations of sturdy yeomanry, whose progeny still plough the same fields, and kneel at the same altár-the parsonage, quaint irregular pile, partly antiquated, but repaired and altered in the tastes of various ages and occupants-the stile and footpath leading from the churchyard across pleasant fields, and along shady hedge rows, according to an immemorial right of way-the neighbouring village-the antique family mansion, standing apart in some little rural domain-All these common features of English landscape evince a calm and settled security, an hereditary transmission of homebred virtues and local attachments, that speak deeply and touchingly for the moral character of the nation." The common people of Yorkshire speak a very coarse dialect of the English tongue. We could not understand one-half of what our coachman said in answer to our inquiries, and when he drove up to an inn, and conversed with the hostler or bar-maid, they were utterly unintelligible. We arrived at Leeds a little before sundown. Leeds is a place of great antiquity, and is now, in consequence of its woollen manufactures, one of the most thriving and active places in the kingdom. The tall and numerous chimneys made of earthenware, and spouting out fire and smoke from the workshops, are |