rtue, had such an effect
upon my mind, that I never see a hoary-headed clergyman, without
thinking of Mr. Walker.... He allowed no dissenter or methodist to
interfere in the instruction of the souls committed to his cure: and so
successful were his exertions, that he had not one dissenter of any
denomination whatever in the whole parish.--Though he avoided all
religious controversies, yet when age had silvered his head, and
virtuous piety had secured to his appearance reverence and silent
honour, no one, however determined in his hatred of apostolic descent,
could have listened to his discourse on ecclesiastical history and
ancient times, without thinking, that one of the beloved apostles had
returned to mortality, and in that vale of peace had come to exemplify
the beauty of holiness in the life and character of Mr. Walker.

* * * * *

'Until the sickness of his wife, a few months previous to her death, his
health and spirits and faculties were unimpaired. But this misfortune
gave him such a shock, that his constitution gradually decayed. His
senses, except sight, still preserved their powers. He never preached
with steadiness after his wife's death. His voice faltered: he always
looked at the seat she had used. He could not pass her tomb without
tears. He became, when alone, sad and melancholy, though still among his
friends kind and good-humoured. He went to bed about twelve o'clock the
night before his death. As his custom was, he went, tottering and
leaning upon his daughter's arm, to examine the heavens, and meditate a
few moments in the open air. "How clear the moon shines to-night!" He
said these words, sighed, and laid down. At six next morning he was
found a corpse. Many a tear, and many a heavy heart, and many a grateful
blessing followed him to the grave.'

Having mentioned in this narrative the vale of Loweswater as a place
where Mr. Walker taught school, I will add a few memoranda from its
parish register, respecting a person apparently of desires as moderate,
with whom he must have been intimate during his residence there.

'Let him that would, ascend the tottering seat
Of courtly grandeur, and become as great
As are his mounting wishes; but for me,
Let sweet repose and rest my portion be.

HENRY FOREST, Curate,'

'Honour, the idol which the most adore,
Receives no homage from my knee;
Content in privacy I value more
Than all unea