The knowledge which the reader must have already collected of Mr. Twaddleton’s character will have satisfied him that, in every action of his life, he was more or less influenced by the spell of ancient authority; but we doubt whether he may not yet have to learn the extent to which the reverend gentleman carried this enthusiasm. We shall, accordingly, beg to state a few instances, which will serve to illustrate this circumstance. Be it known, then, that the very first act which announced the preferment of the Reverend Peter Twaddleton to the dignity of Vicar of Overton, was not, as some might suppose, an increased rate of compensation for the tithes; nor was it a rate levied for the repairs of his house; but the removal of the vane from the spire of the church, which, as it consisted of a simple cross piece of iron, seemed to the vicar’s imagination to be wriggling about, without any consciousness of its ancient origin and dignity. He therefore, at his own expense, replaced it by the figure of a cock, which he caused to be duly executed after an authentic model. It will be remembered that the crowing of the cock warned Peter; for which reason the monks first placed the figure of that bird on their churches, as an emblem to call the people to prayers; and, since the image was made to revolve with the wind, it soon acquired the name of the _weathercock_. With respect to the arrangement of his table, he displayed an equal veneration for ancient forms. He perpetuated the use of the wassail bowl, which was scrupulously prepared with apples and ale, according to the most orthodox receipt. His mince-pies at Christmas were fabricated with the same inflexible adherence to ancient authority; he maintained that the introduction of meat into their composition was a scandalous heresy; that the choicest productions of the East ought alone to be admitted, since the custom was originally intended to allegorise the offerings made by the wise men who came from afar to worship, bringing _spices_, &c. He was also as critical with respect to the _shape_, as he was with regard to the _composition_ of these dainty inventions; he insisted upon the ancient or coffin shape, which he stated to have been in imitation of the cratch, or manger, wherein the infant Jesus had lain. His table was, with the same antiquarian correctness, punctually supplied at Easter with a gammon of bacon; a custom, which would, perhaps, have been more honoured in the breach than in the observance, since it was evidently founded on the abhorrence our forefathers thought proper to express towards the Jews, at the season of commemorating the resurrection.[61] The idea was in direct opposition to the liberal sentiments of the vicar, but, being an ancient custom, he never ventured to question its propriety. In like manner, his tranquillity would have been sadly disturbed, had Annette ever forgotten the _pancakes_ on Shrove-Tuesday; for he was decidedly of