Dr. Jabez Bunting was a very influential man among the Methodists when I was young. For many years he was regarded as ruler of the Connexion,—exerting a despotic sway over the whole body. Such general conclusions oftentimes are not fairly drawn from existing facts, and how far widely extended opinion in the case now noticed, is justifiable I cannot undertake to say. To me he was very agreeable, and for him I had great respect. William Bunting, his son, was of a different stamp from his father, and though a skilful critic, he had not his father’s gift of authority and rule. Before the middle of the century came Dr. Newton, to open a second chapel, in the upper part of Norwich; his magnificent voice and careful diction produced a powerful effect. I met him in after-life at Windsor, when he told me that he was accustomed to leave his home on Monday morning in the Manchester circuit, and travel by coach to the other end of England,—perhaps cross over to Ireland,—and then get back, at the end of the week, ready for preaching the next day. He said he weekly delivered five or six sermons, making them “on the wheels” as he went along. He seemed a stranger to physical fatigue. During my Windsor ministry I became acquainted with a noted Wesleyan, who was not an itinerant, but a local, preacher. He went by the name of “Billy Dawson,” and was eminently gifted with humour and pathos. I heard him preach, and listened to his platform speeches. He was not only naturally eloquent, but histrionic too; in speeches and sermons he acted while he spoke. He made you realise what he described. It is said that George Whitefield, when preaching to sailors, described a storm at sea so vividly that some of them shouted, “Take to the long boat.” Dawson had a like power of realising what he described. He would, at a missionary meeting, make a telescope of his resolution, and putting it to one of his eyes, describe what he saw in imagination,—perhaps a picture of the millennium drawn from Isaiah’s prophecies. I was young, just come from college, at the time I speak of, and made a speech in which I used some words which were not so plain as they might have been. After the meeting he spoke to me kindly, suggesting equivalent terms in plain Saxon. It was a good lesson for an unfledged bird.