Trust me, that for the instructed, time will come
When they shall meet no object but may teach
Some acceptable lesson to their minds

Of human suffering, or of human joy.

So shall they learn, while all things speak of man,
Their duties from all forms; and general laws,
And local accidents, shall tend alike

To rouse, to urge; and, with the will, confer
The ability to spread the blessings wide
Of true philanthropy. The light of love
Not failing, perseverance from their steps
Departing not, for them shall be confirmed 3
The glorious habit by which sense is made
Subservient still to moral purposes,
Auxiliar to divine. That change shall clothe
The naked spirit, ceasing to deplore
The burthen of existence. Science then
Shall be a precious visitant; and then,
And only then, be worthy of her name:
For then her heart shall kindle; her dull eye,
Dull and inanimate, no more shall hang
Chained to its object in brute slavery;
But taught with patient interest to watch
The processes of things, and serve the cause
Of order and distinctness, not for this
Shall it forget that its most noble use,

1

1827.

of absent Things,

Convoked by knowledge; and for his delight
Still ready to obey the gentle call.

1814.

Trust me,

2.1827.

From them shall all things speak of Man, they read
Their duties in all forms;

1814.

3

1827.

Departing not, they shall at length obtain

1814.

Its most illustrious province, must be found
In furnishing clear guidance, a support
Not treacherous, to the mind's excursive power.
-So build we up the Being that we are;
Thus deeply drinking-in the soul of things,
We shall be wise perforce; and, while inspired
By choice, and conscious that the Will is free,
Shall move unswerving, even as if impelled1
By strict necessity, along the path

Of order and of good. Whate'er we see,
Or feel, shall tend to quicken and refine;2
Shall fix, in calmer seats of moral strength,
Earthly desires; and raise, to loftier heights
Of divine love, our intellectual soul."

Here closed the Sage that eloquent harangue, Poured forth with fervour in continuous stream, Such as, remote, mid savage wilderness,

An Indian Chief discharges from his breast

Whate'er we feel, shall tend to feed and nurse,
By agency direct or indirect,

Into the hearing of assembled tribes,1
In open circle seated round, and hushed
As the unbreathing air, when not a leaf
Stirs in the mighty woods. So did he speak:
The words he uttered shall not pass away
Dispersed, like music that the wind takes up
By snatches, and lets fall, to be forgotten;
No-they sank into me 2 the bounteous gift
Of one whom time and nature had made wise,
Gracing his doctrine with authority
Which hostile spirits silently allow;
Of one accustomed to desires that feed
On fruitage gathered from the tree of life;
To hopes on knowledge and experience built;
Of one in whom persuasion and belief
Had ripened into faith, and faith become
A passionate intuition; whence the Soul,
Though bound to earth by ties of pity and love,
From all injurious servitude was free.

The Sun, before his place of rest were reached,
Had yet to travel far, but unto us,

To us who stood low in that hollow dell,
He had become invisible,-a pomp
Leaving behind of yellow radiance spread
Over the mountain sides, in contrast bold
With ample shadows, seemingly, no less

Than those resplendent lights, his rich bequest;
A dispensation of his evening power.

-Adown the path that 1 from the glen had led
The funeral train, the Shepherd and his Mate
Were seen descending :-forth to greet them ran 2
Our little Page: the rustic pair approach;
And in the Matron's countenance may be read
Plain indication that the words, which told
How that neglected Pensioner was sent
Before his time into a quiet grave,

Had done to her humanity no wrong:

But we are kindly welcomed-promptly served
With ostentatious zeal.-Along the floor
Of the small Cottage in the lonely Dell

A grateful couch was spread for our repose;
Where, in the guise of mountaineers, we lay,
Stretched upon fragrant heath, and lulled by sound
Of far-off torrents charming the still night,

And, to tired limbs and over-busy thoughts,
Inviting sleep and soft forgetfulness.5

With this compare The Prelude, Book I.—

"Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep."

-(Vol. III. p. 146.)—ED.

Book Fifth.

THE PASTOR.

ARGUMENT.

Farewell to the Valley-Reflections—A large and populous Vale described-The Pastor's Dwelling, and some account of him2-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 Rites-Inconsistency of the best men--Acknowledgment that prac tice falls far below the injunctions of duty as existing in the mindGeneral 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 enquirers 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 qualities of its InhabitantsSolitary 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.

Sight of a large and populous Vale-Solitary
consents to go forward-Vale described-

1814.

"FAREWELL, deep Valley, with thy one rude House,
And its small lot of life-supporting fields,

And guardian rocks!-Farewell, attractive seat !1
To the still influx of the morning light

1

1827.

And guardian rocks!—with unreverted eyes
I cannot pass thy bounds, attractive seat!

1814.