_The circumstances under which I commenced residence in my country parish were, unhappily, not conducive to my forming a favourable judgment of my people. I was at starting brought face to face with the worst side of their characters. They were and had for long been in bad hands; they had surrendered themselves to the guidance of those who had gone very far towards demoralizing them. I could not be blind to the faults--the vices if you will--which were only too apparent. I could not but grieve at the altered_ tone _which was observable in their language and their manners, since the days when I had been a country curate twenty years before. But while I lamented the noticeable deterioration and the fact that the rustics were less cordial, less courteous, less generous, less loving, and, therefore, less happy than they had been, I gradually got to see that the surface may be ruffled and yet the inner nature beneath that surface may have some depths unaffected by the turmoil. The charity which hopeth all things suggested that it was the time to work and wait. It was not long before I learnt to feel something more than mere interest in my people. I learnt to love them. I learnt_-- _To see a good in evil, and a hope In ill success; to sympathize, be proud Of their half-reasons, faint aspirings, dim Struggles for truth, their poorest fallacies, Their prejudice, and fears, and cares, and doubts, Which all touch upon nobleness, despite Their error, all tend upwardly though weak, Like plants in mines which never see the sun, But dream of him, and guess where he may be, And do their best to climb and get at him._ _I was shocked when friendly critics told me I had drawn a melancholy picture, and that to live in such a community, and with surroundings such as I had described, must be depressing, almost degrading, for any man of culture and refinement._ _The essays which follow in this volume were written as a kind of protest against any such view of the case. I think the two volumes--this and my former one--should in fairness be read each as the complement of the other. In “Arcady” I have drawn, as best I could, the picture of the life of the rustics around me. In this volume I have sketched the life of a country parson trying to do his best to elevate those among whom he has been called to exercise his ministry._