ttle down into a
round of prating mediocrity afterwards. When tried he gave the
people a fair average specimen of what he could do--did not say his
best nor his commonest things; began with a fire which he could keep
up; and the result is not disappointment, but an increasing relish.

Mr. Bolton is a plain, dark-complexioned, clear-headed man--rather
clerical in look; well-built; married; about 38 years of age; fond
of a billycock; teetotal, but averse to drowning other people with
water; doesn't think it sinful to smoke just one pipe of tobacco
after he has done a day's work; had rather visit poor than rich
people; dislikes namby-pambying and making a greater fuss over high
than low class members of his church; thinks that those in poverty
need most looking after, and that those with good homes and decent
purses should try to look a little after themselves; believes in
working hard; cares precious little for deacons--we rather like
that, for deacons are queer birds to encounter; is original in
thought, fairly up in theology, and straightforward in language. It
is rather a treat to see him preach. He does not, like the bulk of
parsons, solemnly work out all his divinity in the pulpit:
preaching is not a sad, up and down, air-sawing, monotonous thing
with him; he steps out of the sacred box when his feelings begin to
warm up, moves to one side of it, then round the back of it, and
then to the other side of it; talks to you and not at you; is quite
conversational in style, and ignores everything conventional and
stereotyped in manner. He exercises his lungs with considerable
force at times; but he never tears nor disturbs the circumambient
air with religious agony. It is as pleasant to hear as to see him.
Good sound sense, neatly adjusted argument, newness of thought, and
clear illustration characterise his expressions. He is liberal and
independent in tone; speaks easily, and if he now and then wanders a
little he always returns to the question with vigour, and freshness.
He has no written sermons; a few notes are sufficient for him; he
does not believe in long discourses; he has an idea that it is
better to say a little and let it be well understood than float into
immensity, let off fireworks there, and dumfounder everybody. But he
has his faults. He has quite as much confidence in himself as is
requisite for the present. He is rather too impervious and too
oracular; but then who would not be if they had the chance? W