untrained men, liable to teach erroneous
doctrine?" asked Mr Clearemout.

"They are not altogether untrained men," replied Mr Donnithorne. "They
are subjected to a searching examination, and must give full proof of
their Christianity, knowledge, and ability before being appointed."

"And good, excellent Christian men many of them are," observed Mrs
Donnithorne, with much fervour.

"Quite true," said her husband. "This James Penrose is one of our best
local preachers, and sometimes officiates in our principal chapel. I
confess, however, that those who have the management of this matter are
not always very judicious in their appointments. Some of our young men
are sorely tempted to show off their acquirements, and preach
_themselves_ instead of the gospel, and there are one or two whom I
could mention whose hearts are all right, but whose brains are so
muddled and empty that they are utterly unfit to teach their fellows.
We must not, however, look for perfection in this world, Mr Clearemout.
A little chaff will always remain among the wheat. There is no system
without some imperfection, and I am convinced that upon the whole our
system of appointing local preachers is a first-rate one. At all events
it works well, which is one of the best proofs of its excellence."

"Perhaps so," said Mr Clearemout, with the air of a man who did not
choose to express an opinion on the subject; "nevertheless I had rather
have a man who was _not_ a local preacher."

"You can see and hear him, and judge for yourself," said Mr
Donnithorne; "for he is, I believe, to preach in our chapel to-morrow,
and if you will accept of a seat in our pew it will afford my wife and
myself much--"

"Thank you," interrupted Mr Clearemout; "I shall be very glad to take
advantage of your kind offer. Service, you say, begins at--"

"Ten precisely," said Mr Donnithorne.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

SHOWS THE MINER IN HIS SUNDAY GARB, AND ASTONISHES CLEAREMOUT, BESIDES
RELATING SOME INCIDENTS OF AN ACCIDENT.

The sun rose bright and hot on Sunday morning, but the little birds were
up before the great luminary, singing their morning hymn with noisy
delight. It was a peaceful day. The wind was at rest and the sea was
calm. In the ancient town of St. Just it was peculiarly peaceful, for
the numerous and untiring "stamps"--which all the week had continued
their clang and clatter, morning, noon, and night, without
intermission--found rest on that ha