the hill, with which I refreshed myself, having eaten or drunk but little for several days before." The spring is still there, and in the neighbourhood is commonly known even at this day as George Fox's Well. [Illustration: ULVERSTON CHURCH.] The district comprehended within his view became the scene of his most important labours. He spent several years among the pleasant valleys of the Lune and the Kent, and along the breezy shores of Morecambe Bay. In his wanderings he never missed an opportunity of rebuking the "priests," in their "steeple-houses." At Staveley, close by the foot of Windermere, he disputed with the minister, and was roughly treated in consequence. The same afternoon, at Lindale-in-Cartmel, a picturesque spot a couple of miles north of Grange, he, with more prudence, waited till the service was over before he commenced his harangue. Thence he proceeded to Ulverston; his fame had gone before him, and the people flocked to listen to his utterances. The visit was a memorable incident in his life, for it was the occasion on which he first met the courtly but courageous woman who afterwards became his wife. He was taken by a friend to Swarthmoor Hall, where he stayed all night; the next morning being a fast-day, he attended service at the old church of St. Mary's. When he entered, Lampitt, the Puritan vicar, whom he describes as "a high notionist, who would make it appear that he knew all things, was singing with his people; but his spirit was so foul, and the matter they sang so unsuitable to their states, that, after they had done singing, I was moved of the Lord to speak to him and the people"--a practice that was sometimes permitted in that age, provided it was done with courtesy and decorum; conditions, however, that Fox did not always observe. It must have been a stirring scene; the tall and powerfully-built "man in leather breeches"--the stern, uncompromising reformer, who had almost turned the religious world upside down--clad in his strange, uncouth garb, wearing his broad-leaved immovable hat--which, by the way, had not then become the accepted badge of Quakerism--his long, lank hair depending upon his shoulders, and his eyes flashing with light as he declaimed against "hypocritical professors," and "hireling priests." Standing on one of the seats, he delivered a stirring address on the necessity of sincerity in religious profession. The people marvelled at his eloquence, and many of them were moved by his earnestness. As he proceeded the fervour increased and rose to a pitch of intense excitement, the heart of many a listener was touched, and the stifled sob and the heaving sigh told of the powerful effect of his utterances. Judge Fell was not there, being away at the time discharging his judicial functions on the Welsh circuit, but his wife, Margaret Fell, was present, and her heart was stirred by the enthusiasm of the preacher. "I stood up in my pew," she says,