English gigs.  The posting is under government regulation, and is performed by sure-footed ponies kept by the farmers, who are obliged to supply them under any circumstances after having had notice.  A forbud is sent on with printed notices filled up with the time at which the traveller expects to arrive at each station.  This avant-courier is often a little boy, and sometimes, to save the expense of a horse, for which the traveller has paid, he is sent on foot.  On one occasion we met a young girl, with bare feat, who had walked sixteen miles with notice papers, as our forbud.  Now away goes the traveller, accompanied by a man, or more often a boy, or it may be a little girl, to bring back the pony.  They run by the side, but down hills always seat themselves behind on the luggage as best they can.  The traveller drives himself, and the little horses are so brisk that, whatever the state of the road may be, they run down the mountains as fast as they can clatter, and so sure-footed that they are scarcely ever known to fall; but a person of weak nerves has no business to be the rider.

From Christiansand to Stavanger is about 200 miles, which took us four days.  Our road lay occasionally over a wild and stony heath by the sea, sometimes along the river-banks, lakes, or fiords, but more often among and upon the high and rugged rocks; the passing of some of which is, I think, more difficult than crossing the Alps between Switzerland and Italy.—­(letter of 8 mo. 3.)

On the way towards Stavanger John Yeardley had a public meeting at Flekkefiord, the first time such a meeting had been held in the place.  It was “a good time,” and so well attended that the town-hall could not contain nearly all who came together.

Immediately on arriving at Stavanger, the Friends commenced visiting the families of the Friends in the town and on the adjacent islands; and on the next First-day held a meeting about eleven miles up one of the fiords, to which so many flocked from all directions that they were obliged to assemble in the open air:—­

It was, says J.Y., a lovely sight to see so many clean-dressed peasants, in their mountain costume, with a seriousness in their countenances which indicated that a motive better than curiosity had brought them together.  I was reminded and had to speak of the miracle of our blessed Saviour, when he commanded the multitudes to sit down on the grass, and fed them with five barley loaves and two fishes.

Since this time, he says in a letter, we hold our public meetings in the open air, and the stillness that prevails is quite remarkable.  Last evening we had a solemn opportunity in a plantation belonging to one of our Friends by the seaside.  The hushing of the trees, the gentle rolling of the waves behind a strong sea-wall, and the warbling of the little birds, all seemed to aid our worship; but these would have been nothing had not the presence of our Divine Master been near.  After the meeting, as many as could be seated partook of tea, &c.  The seriousness, simplicity, kindness and hospitality, are great.  All flock together as if they were one family.—­(7 mo. 28.)