Imperfect substitutes, whose use and power
Evince the want and weakness whence they spring."

While in this serious mood we held discourse,
The reverend Pastor tow'rds the Church-yard gate
Approached; and, with a mild respectful air
Of native cordiality, our Friend

guess

Advanced to greet him. With a gracious mien
Was he received, and mutual joy prevailed.
Awhile they stood in conference, and I
That He, who now upon the mossy wall
Sate by my side, had vanished, if a wish
Could have transferred him to his lonely House
Within the circuit of those guardian rocks.

-For me, I looked upon the pair, well pleased: Nature had framed them both, and both were marked By circumstance with intermixture fine

Of contrast and resemblance. To an Oak
Hardy and grand, a weather-beaten Oak,
Fresh in the strength and majesty of age,
One might be likened: flourishing appeared,
Though somewhat past the fulness of his prime,

The Other-like a stately Sycamore,
That spreads, in gentler pomp, its honied shade.

A general greeting was exchanged; and soon
The Pastor learned that his approach had given
A welcome interruption to discourse

Grave, and in truth full often sad." Is Man
A Child of hope? Do generations press
On generations, without progress made?
Halts the Individual, ere his hairs be grey,
Perforce? Are we a Creature in whom good
Preponderates, or evil? Doth the Will
Acknowledge Reason's law? A living Power
Is Virtue, or no better than a name?
Fleeting as health or beauty, and unsound!
So that the only substance which remains,
(For thus the tenor of complaint hath run)
Among so many shadows, are the pains
And penalties of miserable life,

Doomed to decay, and then expire in dust!

-Our cogitations this way have been drawn,

These are the points," the Wanderer said, " on which

Our Inquest turns.-Accord, good Sir! the light

Of

your experience, to dispel this gloom.

By your persuasive wisdom shall the Heart

That frets, or languishes, be stilled and cheered."

"Our Nature," said the Priest, in mild reply, "Angels may weigh and fathom: they perceive, With undistempered and unclouded spirit, The object as it is; but, for ourselves, That speculative height we may not reach. The good and evil are our own; and we

Are that which we would contemplate from far. Knowledge, for us, is difficult to gain—

Is difficult to gain and hard to keep

As Virtue's self; like Virtue is beset

With snares; tried, tempted, subject to decay.

Love, admiration, fear, desire, and hate,

Blind were we without these; through these alone
Are capable to notice or discern

Or to record; we judge, but cannot be
Indifferent judges. 'Spite of proudest boast
Reason, best Reason, is to imperfect Man
An effort only, and a noble aim;

A crown, an attribute of sovereign power,
Still to be courted-never to be won!

-Look forth, or each man dive into himself,
What sees he but a Creature too perturbed,
That is transported to excess; that yearns,
Regrets, or trembles, wrongly, or too much;
Hopes rashly, in disgust as rash recoils;
Battens on spleen, or moulders in despair.
Thus truth is missed, and comprehension fails;
And darkness and delusion round our path
Spread, from disease, whose subtile injury lurks
Within the very faculty of sight.

Yet for the general purposes of faith In Providence, for solace and support, We may not doubt that who can best subject The will to Reason's law, and strictliest live And act in that obedience, he shall gain The clearest apprehension of those truths, Which unassisted reason's utmost power Is too infirm to reach. But-waiving this, And our regards confining within bounds Of less exalted consciousness-through which

The multitude are free to range

very

We safely may affirm that human life

Is either fair or tempting, a soft scene
Grateful to sight, refreshing to the soul,
Or a forbidding tract of cheerless view;
Even as the same is looked at, or approached.
Permit me," said the Priest continuing, “here
To use an illustration of my thought,

Drawn from the very spot on which we stand.
-In changeful April, when, as he is wont,
Winter has reassumed a short lived

sway And whitened all the surface of the fields,

If-from the sullen region of the North

Towards the circuit of this holy ground

Your walk conducts you, ere the vigorous sun,

High climbing, hath attained his noon-tide height

These Mounds, transversely lying side by side
From east to west, before you will appear

A dreary plain of unillumined snow,

With more than wintry cheerlessness and gloom Saddening the heart. Go forward, and look back; On the same circuit of this church-yard ground Look, from the quarter whence the Lord of light,

G G