He supplied messes of broth on Sundays to such of his hearers as came from a distance, and Mr Wordsworth mentions this as involving an act of generous self-denial, because to make the requisite supply of Sunday broth, it would be necessary to boil the whole week’s meat on that day, reducing the family to the necessity of eating nothing but cold meat until the next supply of broth was required. This appearance of self-denial _dis_appears, when we come to know that it is, even yet, a rule in the domestic economy of old Seathwaite families to boil sufficient meat to serve several days’ dinners in every Sunday's broth; and, as has been elsewhere said, though the dried mutton, oat-bread, fresh butter, and sweet milk so liberally offered to callers by my hospitable though homely friends in Seathwaite are all more than excellent, yet is their broth as little tempting a mess as it has been my fortune to encounter, the “singit sheep’s heid broth” of a Duddingston public, or the “a la mode soup” of a St. Giles's eating-house not excepted. Mr Walker’s biographers and panegyrists omit altogether to mention a very important means he adopted to help to “bring grist to the mill,” and that was keeping an ale-house, not a jerry-shop, mind, for in “Wonderful Walker's” time, his Parsonage was an ordinary country ale-house, in which the ordinary customs of country ale-houses were regularly observed. For instance, at certain periods, he held “auld wife hakes,” or “merry nights,” and such like jollifications, where, as Anderson sings— “The bettermer sort sat snug i’ the parlour; I’ t’ pantry the sweathearters cuttered sae soft; The dancers they kicked up a stour i’ the kitchen; At lanter the card-lakers sat i’ the loft.” [Sidenote: HABITS AND HABILIMENTS.] I don’t mean that this exact arrangement of guests was religiously followed at the Seathwaite Parsonage hakes, but such, beyond dispute, were the staple amusements on these jolly occasions. One custom of Mr Walker’s public, I should mention as differing from the practice of its successors; ale, if “drunk on the premises,” was charged fourpence per quart, but if swallowed outside, on the road or in the church-yard, only threepence. The ale licence was taken out in the name of his brother. He refused to have any dealings with Quakers, because, as I understand the matter, that stiff-necked generation have some out-of-the-way and inconvenient notions about the propriety of paying Church dues. He discharged his clerical duties zealously and faithfully for sixty-six years at Seathwaite alone, which was his third benefice. He brought up, educated well and established well in life, a numerous family, and, in 1802, died universally lamented, at the age of ninety-three, leaving two thousand pounds and a large quantity of linen and woollen cloth spun by himself, chiefly within the communion rails, where he had his seat when engaged in teaching the young intelligences of the dale to read and write.