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morning, and harmonized, in hue and colour, with every other part of the scene. Every thing was still, and nature seemed to have cast over all things the spell of beauty and of silence. To the sorrowful inhabitants of S****, the contrast between their own wretchedness of mind, and the beautiful freshness of the morning, was keen and affecting.
The hour of sale at length arrived, and the premises referred to in the Decree were put up amidst a breathless assemblage of the villagers. At that moment of doubt and perplexity, a stranger dismounted at the door, rushed into the room, and laid upon the table a perpetual injunction on the sale. He received, in a moment, the warm embrace of every person in the room. It was the good fortune of C**** to have been that stranger; and to have carried to them those happy tidings of joy. I still remember, even at this distance of time, the gratitude which beamed from their countenances; and still call to mind the warmth of their embrace.
It was then, on inquiry, that the principal events of this narrative were related to me with a pathos I cannot forget, but which, alas, I can never recal.
I went to the grave with the mourners, and we committed the pastor to the ground with many tears.
Relieved from their fears of pecuniary distress, their grief was pure and sacred; for it was devoid of selfishness. We continued at the grave long after the inhumation was completed, and in the sorrow of that moment we completely forgot the world.
I suggested an epitaph before I left the churchyard, which I have always admired for its tenderness and feeling. It was adopted; and we turned to depart, in sadness and silence. In the evening the village was, in a measure, restored to quietness and tranquillity. The sun was just setting when C**** and myself turned our horses' heads from the little inn. The landscape was distinctly marked with its evening splendors, and we stopped for a moment to admire them. The river had subsided from its midday agitation. The scenery was tinged with gold; the sky wore a glorious aspect, and, like the termination of the eventful day we had witnessed, gave promise of a lovely and tranquil morning. And thus from the night of the grave,' cried I to my companion, will arise both peace and consolation.'
I have learned that the inscription graces an urn of white marble over the Pastor's grave, and that the village is still the seat of innocence and virtuę,
The urn is dressed with garlands on every birth day, and the inscription never pronounced without
Thou sleepest, but we do not forget thee.'
I have seen the rise and fall of families with astonishment, but never without regret. I can never look upon blighted youth, or unhappy old age, without shedding a tear. Some twenty years since, there lived in a village, not many miles distant from the metropolis, a family distinguished for its refinement and wealth. Its members were allied by the pleasant bonds of marriage, or the closer ties of blood, to some of the most distinguished people of the day; and their manners, though widely different from those of their humble neighbors, were tempered with gentleness and kindness, that disarmed envy, and dulled the edge of malice.
The family was much admired, and most people, when honored by their intimacy, were not backward in taking advantage of its privileges. Often, full often, when I was a school boy, creeping along unwillingly to school,' did I loiter by the way to look at the beautiful lawn which intervened between
the high road and the handsome mansion of the Arlingtons; or, mounting the gate which guarded the entrance to the grounds, gaze with delight at the fairy forms that roved along the deep-shaded paths, and through their alleys green.' The house stood
upon an eminence of easy ascent, and had an air of comfort and elegance. Its front was of simple architecture. A piazza ran across the main building— leaving the large Venetian windows in the wings to exhibit, with undiminished effect, their full proportions.
The shrubbery was closely trimmed, and the gravel-walks were clean and smooth, and the grass was kept short and close like velvet, and every thing about the place looked pleasant and Arcadian. when the light coach and the beautiful greys before it, come rattling down the avenue, full happy was I to catch a look of sweet recognition, boy as I was, from the lovely creatures that were reclining within, upon its luxurious cushions.
Within the house there was an air of ease, a good taste, that was quite captivating. I remember full well how I used to devour the superb English books, that lay upon the polished tables in the drawing-room, and the handsome prints which were contained in a port-folio, not less charming from being placed before