Part 18

_Farewell to the Valley--Reflections--A large and populous Vale described[417]--The Pastor's Dwelling, and some account of him[418]--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[419]--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 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 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 unbaptised Infants[420]--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![421] To the still influx of the morning light Open, and[422] day's pure cheerfulness, but veiled 5 From human observation,[FZ] as if yet Primeval forests wrapped thee round with dark Impenetrable shade; once more farewell, Majestic circuit, beautiful abyss, By Nature destined from the birth of things 10 For quietness profound!" Upon the side Of that brown ridge, sole outlet of the vale[GA] Which foot of boldest stranger would attempt, Lingering[423] behind my comrades, thus I breathed A parting tribute to a spot that seemed 15 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[424] 20 To seek that comfort which the mind denies; Yet trial and temptation oft are shunned Wisely; and by such tenure[425] do we hold Frail life's possessions, that even they whose fate Yields no peculiar reason of complaint 25 Might, by the promise that is here, be won To steal from active duties, and embrace Obscurity, and undisturbed repose.[426] --Knowledge, methinks, in these disordered times, Should be allowed a privilege to have 30 Her anchorites, like piety of old;[GB] 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 35 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 40 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 45 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 50 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 55 Cheering my days, and with industrious thought; With the ever-welcome[427] company of books; With[428] virtuous friendship's soul-sustaining aid, And with the blessings of domestic love.

Thus occupied in mind I paced along, 60 Following the rugged road, by sledge or wheel Worn in the moorland,[GC] till I overtook My two Associates, in the morning sunshine Halting together on a rocky knoll, Whence the bare road[429] descended rapidly 65 To the green meadows of another vale.[GD]

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 70 The dewy grass; you cannot leave us now, We must not part at this inviting hour." He yielded,[430] though reluctant; for his mind Instinctively disposed him to retire To his own covert; as a billow, heaved 75 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;[GE] and, not distant far, Upon a rising ground a grey church-tower,(GE) 80 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 85 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, 90 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, 95 A popular equality reigns here, Save for yon stately House[GF] beneath whose roof A rural lord might dwell."--"No feudal pomp, Or power," replied the Wanderer, "to that House Belongs, but there in his allotted Home 100 Abides, from year to year, a genuine Priest,[431] The shepherd of his flock; or, as a king Is styled, when most affectionately praised, The father of his people. Such is he; And rich and poor, and young and old, rejoice 105 Under his spiritual sway. He hath vouchsafed[432] To me some portion of a[433] kind regard; And something also of his inner mind Hath he imparted--but I speak of him As he is known to all. The calm delights 110 Of unambitious piety he chose, And learning's solid dignity; though born Of knightly race, nor wanting powerful friends. Hither,[434] in prime of manhood, he withdrew From academic bowers. He loved the spot-- 115 Who does not love his native soil?--he prized The ancient rural character, composed Of simple manners, feelings unsupprest And undisguised, and strong and serious thought; A character reflected in himself, 120 With such embellishment as well beseems His rank and sacred function. This deep vale Winds far in reaches hidden from our sight, And one a turreted manorial hall Adorns, in which the good Man's ancestors 125 Have dwelt through ages--Patrons of this Cure. To them, and to his own judicious pains,[435] The Vicar's dwelling, and the whole domain, Owes that presiding aspect which might well Attract your notice; statelier than could else 130 Have been bestowed, through[436] course of common chance, On an unwealthy mountain Benefice."

This said, oft pausing,[437] we pursued our way; Nor reached the village-churchyard[GG] till the sun Travelling at steadier pace than ours, had risen 135 Above the summits of the highest hills, And round our path darted oppressive beams.

As chanced, the portals of the sacred Pile Stood open; and we entered. On my frame, At such transition from the fervid air, 140 A grateful coolness fell, that seemed to strike The heart, in concert with that temperate awe And natural reverence which the place inspired.[GH] Not raised in[438] nice proportions was the pile; But large and massy; for duration built; 145 With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld By naked rafters intricately crossed, Like leafless underboughs, in some thick wood,[439] All withered by the depth of shade above. Admonitory texts inscribed the walls, 150 Each, in its ornamental scroll, enclosed; Each also crowned with winged heads--a pair Of rudely-painted Cherubim. The floor Of nave and aisle, in unpretending guise, Was occupied by oaken benches ranged 155 In seemly rows; the chancel only showed Some vain distinctions, marks of earthly state By immemorial privilege allowed; Though with the Encincture's special sanctity But ill according. An heraldic shield, 160 Varying its tincture with the changeful light, Imbued the altar-window; fixed aloft A faded hatchment hung, and one by time Yet undiscoloured.[440] A capacious pew Of sculptured oak stood here, with drapery lined; 165 And marble monuments were here displayed Thronging the walls;[441] and on the floor beneath Sepulchral stones appeared, with emblems graven And foot-worn epitaphs, and some with small And shining effigies of brass inlaid.[GI] 170

The tribute by these various records claimed, Duly we paid, each after each, and read[442] The ordinary chronicle of birth, Office, alliance, and promotion--all Ending in dust; of upright magistrates, 175 Grave doctors strenuous for the mother-church, And uncorrupted senators, alike To king and people true. A brazen plate, Not easily deciphered, told of one Whose course of earthly honour was begun 180 In quality of page among the train Of the eighth Henry, when he crossed the seas His royal state to show, and prove his strength In tournament, upon the fields of France. Another tablet registered the death, 185 And praised the gallant bearing, of a Knight Tried in the sea-fights of the second Charles. Near this brave Knight his father lay entombed; And, to the silent language giving voice, I read,--how in his manhood's earlier day 190 He, 'mid the afflictions of intestine war, And rightful government subverted, found One only solace--that he had espoused A virtuous Lady tenderly beloved For her benign perfections; and yet more 195 Endeared to him, for this,[443] that, in her state Of wedlock richly crowned with Heaven's regard, She with a numerous issue filled his house, Who throve, like plants, uninjured by the storm That laid their country waste. No need to speak 200 Of less particular notices assigned To Youth or Maiden gone before their time, And Matrons and unwedded Sisters old; Whose charity and goodness were rehearsed In modest panegyric. "These dim lines, 205 What would they tell?" said I,--but, from the task Of puzzling out that faded narrative, With whisper soft my venerable Friend Called me; and, looking down the darksome aisle, I saw the Tenant of the lonely vale 210 Standing apart; with curvèd arm reclined On the baptismal font; his pallid face Upturned, as if his mind were rapt, or lost In some abstraction; gracefully he stood, The semblance bearing of a sculptured form 215 That leans upon a monumental urn In peace, from morn to night, from year to year.

Him from that posture did the Sexton rouse; Who entered, humming carelessly a tune,[GJ] Continuation haply of the notes 220 That had beguiled the work from which he came, With spade and mattock o'er his shoulder hung; To be deposited, for future need, In their appointed place. The pale Recluse Withdrew; and straight we followed,--to a spot 225 Where sun and shade were intermixed; for there A broad oak, stretching forth its leafy arms From an adjoining pasture, overhung Small space of that green churchyard with a light And pleasant awning.[GK] On the moss-grown wall 230 My ancient Friend and I together took Our seats; and thus the Solitary spake, Standing before us:-- "Did you note the mien Of that self-solaced, easy-hearted churl, 234 Death's hireling, who scoops out his neighbour's grave, Or wraps an old acquaintance up in clay, All unconcerned as he would bind a sheaf, Or plant a tree.[GL] And did you hear his voice?[444] I was abruptly summoned by the sound[445] From some affecting images and thoughts, 240 Which then were silent; but crave utterance now.

"Much," he continued, with dejected look, "Much, yesterday,[446] was said in glowing phrase Of our sublime dependencies, and hopes For future states of being; and the wings 245 Of speculation, joyfully outspread, Hovered above our destiny on earth: But stoop, and place the prospect of the soul In sober contrast with reality, And man's substantial life. If this mute earth 250 Of what it holds could speak, and every grave Were as a volume, shut, yet capable Of yielding its contents to eye and ear, We should recoil, stricken with sorrow and shame, To see disclosed, by such dread proof, how ill 255 That which is done accords with what is known To reason, and by conscience is enjoined; How idly, how perversely, life's whole course, To this conclusion, deviates from the line, Or of the end stops short, proposed to all 260 At her[447] aspiring outset. "Mark the babe Not long accustomed to this breathing world; One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, Though yet irrational of soul, to grasp With tiny finger[448]--to let fall a tear; 265 And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, bemocking, as might seem, The outward functions of intelligent man; A grave proficient in amusive feats Of puppetry, that from the lap declare 270 His expectations, and announce his claims To that inheritance which millions rue That they were ever born to! In due time A day of solemn ceremonial comes; When they, who for this Minor hold in trust 275 Rights that transcend the loftiest[449] heritage Of mere humanity, present their Charge, For this occasion daintily adorned, At the baptismal font. And when the pure And consecrating element hath cleansed 280 The original stain, the child is there received Into the second ark, Christ's church, with trust That he, from wrath redeemed, therein shall float Over the billows of this troublesome world To the fair land of everlasting life. 285 Corrupt affections, covetous desires, Are all renounced; high as the thought of man Can carry virtue, virtue is professed; A dedication made, a promise given For due provision to control and guide, 290 And unremitting progress to ensure In holiness and truth." "You cannot blame," Here interposing fervently I said, "Rites which attest that Man by nature lies Bedded for good and evil in a gulf 295 Fearfully low; nor will your judgment scorn Those services, whereby attempt is made To lift the creature toward[450] that eminence On which, now fallen, erewhile in majesty He stood; or if not so, whose top serene 300 At least he feels 'tis given him to descry; Not without aspirations, evermore Returning, and injunctions from within Doubt to cast off and weariness; in trust That what the Soul perceives, if glory lost, 305 May be, through pains and persevering hope, Recovered; or, if hitherto unknown, Lies within reach, and one day shall be gained."

"I blame them not," he calmly answered--"no; The outward ritual and established forms 310 With which communities of men invest These inward feelings, and the aspiring vows To which the lips give public utterance Are both a natural process; and by me Shall pass uncensured; though the issue prove, 315 Bringing from age to age its own reproach, Incongruous, impotent, and blank.--But, oh! If to be weak is to be wretched--miserable,[GM] As the lost Angel by a human voice Hath mournfully pronounced, then, in my mind, 320 Far better not to move at all than move By impulse sent from such illusive power,-- That finds and cannot fasten down; that grasps And is rejoiced, and loses while it grasps; That tempts, emboldens--for a time sustains,[451] 325 And then betrays; accuses and inflicts Remorseless punishment; and so retreads The inevitable circle; better far Than this, to graze the herb in thoughtless peace, By foresight or remembrance, undisturbed! 330

"Philosophy! and thou more vaunted name Religion! with thy statelier retinue, Faith, Hope, and Charity--from the visible world Choose for your emblems whatsoe'er ye find Of safest guidance or[452] of firmest trust-- 335 The torch, the star, the anchor; nor except The cross itself, at whose unconscious feet The generations of mankind have knelt Ruefully seized, and shedding bitter tears, And through that conflict seeking rest--of you, 340 High-titled Powers, am I constrained to ask, Here standing, with the unvoyageable sky In faint reflection of infinitude Stretched overhead, and at my pensive feet A subterraneous magazine of bones, 345 In whose dark vaults my own shall soon be laid, Where are your triumphs? your dominion where? And in what age admitted and confirmed? --Not for a happy land do I enquire, Island or grove, that hides a blessed few 350 Who, with obedience willing and sincere, To your serene authorities conform; But whom, I ask, of individual Souls, Have ye withdrawn from passion's crooked ways, Inspired, and thoroughly fortified?--If the heart 355 Could be inspected to its inmost folds By sight undazzled with the glare of praise, Who shall be named--in the resplendent line Of sages, martyrs, confessors--the man Whom the best might of faith, wherever fix'd,[453] 360 For one day's little compass, has preserved From painful and discreditable shocks Of contradiction, from some vague desire Culpably cherished, or corrupt relapse To some unsanctioned fear?" "If this be so, 365 And Man," said I, "be in his noblest shape Thus pitiably infirm; then, he who made, And who shall judge the creature, will forgive. --Yet, in its general tenor, your complaint Is all too true; and surely not misplaced: 370 For, from this pregnant spot of ground, such thoughts Rise to the notice of a serious mind By natural exhalation. With the dead In their repose, the living in their mirth, Who can reflect, unmoved, upon the round 375 Of smooth and solemnized complacencies, By which, on Christian lands, from age to age Profession mocks performance? Earth is sick, And Heaven is weary, of the hollow words Which States and Kingdoms utter when they talk 380 Of truth and justice. Turn to private life And social neighbourhood; look we to ourselves; A light of duty shines on every day For all; and yet how few are warmed or cheered! How few who mingle with their fellow-men 385 And still remain self-governed, and apart, Like this our honoured Friend; and thence acquire Right to expect his vigorous decline, That promises to the end a blest old age!"

"Yet," with a smile of triumph thus exclaimed 390 The Solitary, "in the life of man, If to the poetry of common speech Faith may be given, we see as in a glass A true reflection of the circling year, With all its seasons. Grant that Spring is there, 395 In spite of many a rough untoward blast, Hopeful and promising with buds and flowers; Yet where is glowing Summer's long rich day, That _ought_ to follow faithfully expressed? And mellow Autumn, charged with bounteous fruit, 400 Where is she imaged? in what favoured clime Her lavish pomp, and ripe magnificence? --Yet, while the better part is missed, the worse In man's autumnal season is set forth With a resemblance not to be denied, 405 And that contents him; bowers that hear no more The voice of gladness, less and less supply Of outward sunshine and internal warmth; And, with this change, sharp air and falling leaves, Foretelling aged Winter's desolate sway.[454] 410