It has been made a matter of reproach to the clergy of the Scottish Church that, though they spend more time over the preparation of their sermons and place these on a higher intellectual level than is common in the English communion, they fall short of their brethren south of the Tweed in the assiduity of their visitation of their people. Where a parish extends over an area of many square miles, it must obviously be difficult for the minister to move freely and constantly among his parishioners, so as to be in close touch with all of them in their mundane as well as their spiritual affairs. In such cases, he finds it necessary to arrange the times of his visits, which are thus apt to become somewhat formal ceremonies, announced beforehand, and prepared for by those to whom notice is given. An example of this kind is related of a minister who had recently been appointed to the parish of Lesmahagow, and who made known from the pulpit one Sunday that he would visit next day a certain hilly district of the parish. Accordingly, on Monday morning he set out, and, after a walk of some seven or eight miles, arrived at a farm-house, where he meant to begin. After knocking for some time and getting no reply, he hailed a boy outside, when the following conversation ensued: ‘Is Mr. Smith at home?’ ‘Na.’ ‘Is Mrs. Smith here?’ ‘Na.’ ‘Are you their son?’ ‘Ay.’ ‘Well, I have walked a long way, and I would like to sit and rest for a little. May I go in?’ (answering the question by entering). ‘And did your father and mother not expect me?’ ‘Na, they didna think ye wad begin up here; sae they’re awa’ doon to the roup o’ Ritchie’s farm.’ ‘Well, now, my man, are these all the books that your father has in the house?’ ‘Ay.’ ‘Now tell me which of them does he use oftenest?’ ‘That ane,’ pointing to a large leather-covered family Bible. ‘O, the Bible; that’s right: I am pleased to know that; and when does he use it?’ ‘On Sabbath mornin’s.’ ‘Only once a week! Well, how does he do? Does he read it aloud to you all?’ ‘Na, he shairps his raazors on’t.’ I once had quarters at South Queensferry in a house through the centre of which ran the boundary between that burgh and the adjacent parish of Dalmeny. I asked my landlady how she arranged about the claims of the clergy. ‘Well, ye see, I go to the Burgh Kirk, and my minister comes to see me frae time to time. And Mr Muir of Dalmeny, he visits me too, but I try to be quite fair to them both. The parlour here is in the burgh, so I take my ain minister in there, and, as the other half of the house is in Dalmeny, I put the other minister in the kitchen, which belongs to his parish.’ In the striking delineation which Wordsworth has given of the early surroundings of his ‘Wanderer,’ and the circumstances that moulded his character, special stress is laid on the clerical influence which from infancy had guarded this son of the Braes of Athol.