THE PASTOR.

ARGUMENT.

Farewell to the Valley-Reflections.-A large and populous vale described.-The Pastor's Dwelling, and some account of him.--Church and Monuments-The Solitary musing, and where.-Roused.-In the Churchyard the Solitary communicates the thoughts which had recently passed through his mind.-Lofty tone of the Wanderer's discourse of yesterday adverted to.-Rite of Baptism, and the professions accompanying it, contrasted with the real state of human life.Apology for the Rite.-Inconsistency of the best men.-Acknowledgment that practice falls far below the injunctions of duty as existing in the mind.-General complaint of a falling off in the value of life after the time of youth.-Outward appearances of content and happiness in degree illusive.-Pastor approaches.-Appeal made to him. -His answer.-Wanderer in sympathy with him.-Suggestion that the least ambitious inquirers may be most free from error.--The Pastor is desired to give some portraits of the living or dead from his own observation of life among these Mountains-and for what purpose.-Pastor consents.-Mountain cottage.-Excellent quality of its Inhabitants.-Solitary expresses his pleasure; but denies the praise of virtue to worth of this kind.-Feelings of the Priest before he enters upon his account of persons interred in the Churchyard.-Graves of unbaptized Infants.-Funeral and sepulchral observances, whence.-Ecclesiastical establishments, whence derived.-Profession of belief in the doctrine of Immortality.

"FAREWELL, deep Valley, with thy one rude

House,

And its small lot of life-supporting fields,

And guardian rocks!-Farewell, attractive seat!
To the still influx of the morning light

Open, and day's pure cheerfulness, but veiled
From human observation, as if yet

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Primeval forests wrapped thee round with dark
Impenetrable shade; once more farewell,
Majestic circuit, beautiful abyss,

By Nature destined from the birth of things
For quietness profound!"

Upon the side Of that brown ridge, sole outlet of the vale Which foot of boldest stranger would attempt, Lingering behind my comrades, thus I breathed A parting tribute to a spot that seemed Like the fixed centre of a troubled world. Again I halted with reverted eyes; The chain that would not slacken, was at length Snapt,—and, pursuing leisurely my way, How vain, thought I, is it by change of place To seek that comfort which the mind denies ; Yet trial and temptation oft are shunned Wisely; and by such tenure do we hold, Frail life's possessions, that even they whose fate Yields no peculiar reason of complaint

Might, by the promise that is here, be won
To steal from active duties, and embrace
Obscurity, and undisturbed repose.

-Knowledge, methinks, in these disordered times,
Should be allowed a privilege to have
Her anchorites, like piety of old;

Men, who, from faction sacred, and unstained
By war, might, if so minded, turn aside
Uncensured, and subsist, a scattered few
Living to God and nature, and content
With that communion. Consecrated be
The spots where such abide! But happier still
The Man, whom, furthermore, a hope attends

That meditation and research may guide

His privacy to principles and powers
Discovered or invented; or set forth,
Through his acquaintance with the ways of truth,
In lucid order; so that when his course
Is run, some faithful eulogist may say,
He sought not praise, and praise did overlook
His unobtrusive merit; but his life,
Sweet to himself, was exercised in good
That shall survive his name and memory.

Acknowledgments of gratitude sincere Accompanied these musings; fervent thanks For my own peaceful lot and happy choice; A choice that from the passions of the world Withdrew, and fixed me in a still retreat; Sheltered, but not to social duties lost, Secluded, but not buried; and with song Cheering my days, and with industrious thought; With the ever-welcome company of books; With virtuous friendship's soul-sustaining aid, And with the blessings of domestic love.

Thus occupied in mind I paced along,
Following the rugged road, by sledge or wheel
Worn in the moorland, till I overtook
My two Associates, in the morning sunshine
Halting together on a rocky knoll,
Whence the bare road descended rapidly
To the green meadows of another vale.

Here did our pensive Host put forth his hand In sign of farewell. "Nay," the old Man said,

"The fragrant air its coolness still retains ;
The herds and flocks are yet abroad to crop
The dewy grass; you cannot leave us now,
We must not part at this inviting hour."
He yielded, though reluctant; for his mind
Instinctively disposed him to retire
To his own covert; as a billow, heaved
Upon the beach, rolls back into the sea.

So we descend and winding round a rock
Attain a point that showed the valley-stretched
In length before us; and, not distant far,
Upon a rising ground a grey church-tower,
Whose battlements were screened by tufted trees.
And towards a crystal Mere, that lay beyond
Among steep hills and woods embosomed, flowed
A copious stream with boldly-winding course;
Here traceable, there hidden-there again
To sight restored, and glittering in the sun.
On the stream's bank, and every where, appeared
Fair dwellings, single, or in social knots;
Some scattered o'er the level, others perched
On the hill sides, a cheerful quiet scene,
Now in its morning purity arrayed.

"As mid some happy valley of the Alps,"
Said I, "once happy, ere tyrannic power,
Wantonly breaking in upon the Swiss,
Destroyed their unoffending commonwealth,
A popular equality reigns here,

Save for yon stately House beneath whose roof
A rural lord might dwell."—" No feudal pomp,
Or power," replied the Wanderer, "to that House