To Know Thyself is all thou need'st to learn:
And that thy God, omnipotent and just,
Is merciful, remembering thou art Dust!
—When the friends of our youth are fast dying away; when the scenes that once delighted us are fading from our view, and new connections and objects ill repay the loss of the old, how welcome the summons that closes our disappointments and calls us to rest! The mourners walk the streets, but the man is gone; the body dissolves to dust, but the spirit returns to Him that gave it!
The Village Free-School was at hand, (the morning hymn, chanted by youthful voices, rose on the breeze to heaven! ) and the Alms-houses, where Uncle Timothy first met the poor widow and the good pastor. A troop of little children were gathered round one of the inmates, listening to some old wife's tale. 'Tis the privilege of the aged to be reminiscent: the past is their world of anecdote and enjoyment. Let us then afford them this pleasure, well nigh the only one that time has not taken away; remembering, that we with quick pace advance to the closing scene, when we shall be best able to appreciate the harmless gratification they now ask of us, and which we, in turn, shall ask of others.
The ancient church spire rising between the tall elms, and the neat Parsonage House gave an exquisite finish to the surrounding scenery. Happy England! whose fertile hills and valleys are spotted with these Temples of the Most High, where “the rich and the poor meet together, for the Lord hath made them all and the humble dwellings of the shepherds of his flock. The good pastor scattered blessings around him. His genius and learning commanded admiration and respect; his piety, and Christian charity conciliated dissent; and his life exemplified the beauty of holiness.” He had confirmed the faithful; fixed the wavering; and reclaimed the dissolute.
“The wretch who once sang wildly—danc'd and laugh'd,
And suck'd down dizzy madness with his draught,
Has wept a silent flood—reversed his ways—
Is sober, meek, benevolent, and prays.”