In dreams, in study, and in ardent thought,
Thus was he rear'd; much wanting to assist
The growth of intellect, yet gaining more,
And every moral feeling of his soul
Strengthen'd and braced, by breathing in content
The keen, the wholesome air of poverty,
And drinking from the well of homely life.
-But, from past liberty, and tried restraints,
He now was summon'd to select the course
Of humble industry that promised best
To yield him no unworthy maintenance.
Urged by his Mother, he essay'd to teach

A Village-school- but wandering thoughts were then
A misery to him; and the Youth resign'd
A task he was unable to perform.

That stern yet kindly Spirit, who constrains
The Savoyard to quit his naked rocks,
The free-born Swiss to leave his narrow vales,
(Spirit attach'd to regions mountainous
Like their own stedfast clouds) did now impel
His restless Mind to look abroad with hope.

An irksome drudgery seems it to plod on, Through hot and dusty ways, or pelting storm, A vagrant Merchant bent beneath his load!

Yet do such Travellers find their own delight;
And their hard service, deem'd debasing now,
Gained merited respect in simpler times;

When Squire, and Priest, and they who round them dwelt In rustic sequestration — all dependent

Upon the PEDLAR's toil - supplied their wants,

Or pleased their fancies, with the wares he brought.
Not ignorant was the Youth that still no few
Of his adventurous Countrymen were led
By perseverance in this Track of life

To competence and ease; for him it bore
Attractions manifold; and this he chose.
His Parents on the enterprise bestow'd
Their farewell benediction, but with hearts
Foreboding evil. From his native hills
He wander'd far; much did he see of Men,
Their manners, their enjoyments, and pursuits,
Their passions, and their feelings; chiefly those
Essential and eternal in the heart,

That, mid the simpler forms of rural life,
Exist more simple in their elements,

And speak a plainer language. In the woods,
A lone Enthusiast, and among the fields,
Itinerant in this labour, he had pass'd
The better portion of his time; and there

Spontaneously had his affections thriven
Amid the bounties of the year, the peace,
And liberty of Nature; there he kept
In solitude and solitary thought

His mind in a just equipoise of love.
Serene it was, unclouded by the cares
Of ordinary life; unvex'd, unwarp'd
By partial bondage. In his steady course,
No piteous revolutions had he felt,
No wild varieties of joy and grief.
Unoccupied by sorrow of its own,

His heart lay open; and, by Nature tuned
And constant disposition of his thoughts
To sympathy with Man, he was alive
To all that was enjoy'd where'er he went;
And all that was endured; for in himself
Happy, and quiet in his cheerfulness,
He had no painful pressure from without
That made him turn aside from wretchedness
With coward fears. He could afford to suffer
With those whom he saw suffer. Hence it came
That in our best experience he was rich,
And in the wisdom of our daily life.
For hence, minutely, in his various rounds,
He had observed the progress and decay

Of many minds, of minds and bodies too;
The History of many Families;

How they had prosper'd; how they were o'erthrown
By passion or mischance; or such misrule

Among the unthinking masters of the earth

As makes the nations groan. - This active course He follow'd till provision for his wants

Had been obtain'd; the Wanderer then resolved

To pass the remnant of his days — untask'd
With needless services- from hardship free.
His Calling laid aside, he lived at ease:
But still he loved to pace the public roads

And the wild paths; and, by the summer's warmth
Invited, often would he leave his home

And journey far, revisiting the scenes
That to his memory were most endear'd.
-Vigorous in health, of hopeful spirits, undamp'd,
By worldly-mindedness, or anxious care;
Observant, studious, thoughtful, and refresh'd
By knowledge gathered up from day to day;-
Thus had he lived a long and innocent life.

The Scottish Church, both on himself and those With whom from childhood he grew up, had held The strong hand of her purity; and still

Had watch'd him with an unrelenting eye.
This he remember'd in his riper age
With gratitude, and reverential thoughts.
But by the native vigour of his mind,
By his habitual wanderings out of doors,
By loneliness, and goodness, and kind works,
Whate'er, in docile childhood or in youth,
He had imbibed of fear or darker thought
Was melted all away: so true was this,
That sometimes his religion seem'd to me
Self-taught, as of a dreamer in the woods;
Who to the model of his own pure heart
Shaped his belief as grace divine inspired,
Or human reason dictated with awe.

And surely never did there live on earth
A Man of kindlier nature. The rough sports
And teasing ways of Children vex'd not him;
Indulgent listener was he to the tongue
Of garrulous age; nor did the sick man's tale,
To his fraternal sympathy address'd,

Obtain reluctant hearing.

Plain his garb;

Such as might suit a rustic sire, prepared
For sabbath duties; yet he was a Man