About this time, my dear wife became very prostrate in health and spirits—­so much so, that we felt anxious about her.  I went to a famous physician, who was in the neighbourhood, and asked him to come and see her.  He did so, and after careful examination, said that there was really nothing the matter more than that she was one of those persons who could not live in that limestone town in the summer.  He said, “She will be perfectly well if you take her away into the country.  You must do this at once, for the longer she remains here, the weaker she will be.”  He refused to take any fee, and said he would send a carriage at two o’clock, and that we must be ready to start by that time.  This was more easily said than done; for where could I take the children, or how could I leave them at home?  However, as the doctor was very peremptory, we prayed about it, and considered how we were to accomplish the task.

At this critical moment a friend arrived in his carriage, and said he had driven 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.