We attended the same church in the afternoon, and both the sermons were preached by the curate, his texts being Deut. vi. 5 in the morning and Hebrews iv. 3 in the afternoon.  We were surprised to see such large congregations on a wet day, but concluded that the people were so accustomed to rain in that part of the country that they looked upon it as a matter of course.  The people of Keswick evidently had other views as regards church-going than is expressed in the following lines by an author whose name we do not remember: 

  No pelting rain can make us stay
  When we have tickets for the play;
  But let one drop the side-walk smirch. 
  And it’s too wet to go to church.

At the morning service we sat in a pew in the rear of the church, and at one point in the service when it was usual in that part of the country for the congregation to sit down, one gentleman only remained standing.  We could scarcely believe our own eyes when we recognised in this solitary figure the commanding form of Colonel Greenall of the Warrington Volunteers, a gentleman whom we know full well, for his brother was the rector of Grappenhall, our native village, where the Colonel himself formerly resided.

He was a great stickler for a due recognition of that pleasing but old-fashioned custom now fallen out of use, of the boys giving the rector, the squire, or any other prominent member of their families a respectful recognition when meeting them in the village or on their walks abroad.  On one occasion the boys had forgotten their usual obeisance when meeting some relatives of the Colonel.  He was highly indignant at this sin of omission, and took the earliest opportunity to bring the matter forcibly before his Sunday-school class, of which my brother was a member.  The Colonel spoke long and feelingly to the boys on the subject of ordering themselves lowly and reverently before all their “betters,” including governors, teachers, spiritual pastors and masters, and to all those who were put in authority over them, and wound up his peroration with these words, which my brother never forgot, “And now, boys, whenever you meet ME, or any of MY FAMILY, mind you always touch your HATS!”

[Illustration:  CROSTHWAITE CHURCH, KESWICK.]

We did not stop to speak to the Colonel, as he was at the other end of the church and passed out through another door, but we were recognised by one of his men, who told us the Colonel had only just removed to that neighbourhood.  He had liked his summer’s experiences there, but did not know how he would go on in the winter.  The Colonel and his man were the only persons we saw on the whole of our journey that we knew.

To return to our boyish experiences and to the Colonel, the subject of his Sunday-school lesson was taken from the Summary of the Ten Commandments in the Church of England Prayer Book, where they were divided into two parts, the first four relating to our duty to God, and the remaining six to our duty towards our neighbour.  It was surprising how these questions and answers learned in the days of our youth dwelt in our memories, and being Sunday, we each wrote them down from memory with the same result, and we again record them for the benefit of any of our friends who wish to “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest.”