carriage-lamps flared along our in-road. I found at the door “a deputation from the Parent Society,” the Rev. L. H——. Three friends had previously suggested his visit here, and all three had been snubbed. But he put into my hand a note from Leopold Ackland, so there was no longer any resistance. He had travelled far—Australia, Egypt, the Crimea during the Anglican defeat. So his talk amused us. With kindest regards to all at Flexbury, I remain, yours, my dear sir, very faithfully, R. S. HAWKER. T. CARNSEW, Esq. Mr. Hawker, as has been already intimated, was rather peculiar in his dress. At first, soon after his induction to Morwenstow, he wore his cassock; but in time abandoned this inconvenient garb, in which he found it impossible to scramble about his cliffs. He then adopted a claret-coloured coat, with long tails. He had the greatest aversion to anything black: the only black things he would wear were his boots. These claret-coloured coats would button over the breast, but were generally worn open, displaying beneath a knitted blue fisherman’s jersey. At his side, just where the Lord’s side was pierced, a little red cross was woven into the jersey. He wore fishing-boots reaching above his knee. The claret-coloured cassock coats, when worn out, were given to his servant-maids, who wore them as morning-dresses when going about their dirty work. “See there! the parson is washing potatoes!” or, “See there! the parson is feeding the pigs!” would be exclaimed by villagers, as they saw his servant girls engaged on their work, in their master’s coats. At first he went about in a college cap; but this speedily made way for a pink or plum-coloured beaver hat without a brim, the colour of which rapidly faded to a tint of pink, the blue having disappeared. When he put on coat, jersey or hat he wore it till it was worn out: he had no best suit. Once he had to go to Hartland, to the funeral of a relative. On the way he had an accident—his carriage upset, and he was thrown out. When he arrived at Hartland, his relations condoled with him on his upset. “Do, Hawker, let me find you a new hat: in your fall you have knocked the brim off yours,” said one. “My dear ——,” he answered, “priests of the Holy Eastern Church wear no brims to their hats; and I wear none, to testify the connection of the Cornish Church with the East, before ever Augustine set foot in Kent.” And he attended the funeral in his brimless hat. He wore one of these peculiar coloured hats, bleached almost white, at the funeral of his first wife, in 1863, and could hardly be persuaded to allow the narrowest possible band of black crape to be pinned round it. The pink hats were, however, abandoned, partly because they would not keep their colour; and a priest’s wide-awake, claret-coloured like the coat, was adopted in its place.