ng houses or farms. It lies among meadows on each side of the
rivulet which runs through the village. One of the outlying houses is
"Styles Hill," inhabited by one family of the Sheppards, all of whom
soon became dear friends of the Dean. Another was the "Pear-tree"
Cottage, an uninteresting red brick house, where Mr. Rogers provided a
residence for the young curate. The incumbent of the parish, when Ramsay
went there, was the Rev. John Methwen Rogers of Berkley, who was
non-resident. The duties of Rodden were too small to employ his whole
time, and in the following year (1817) Ramsay became curate also of
Buckland Dinham, the rector of which was non-resident and lived at a
distance, so that the curate had the sole charge of the parish. In his
work at Buckland, Ramsay took great delight, and soon won the hearts of
his people, although many of them were Wesleyan Methodists of the old
type[3]. But it was not only amongst the peasantry that Ramsay was
beloved. All the upper and middle classes in his own little parishes,
and through the whole valley, regarded him with strong esteem and
affection, and amongst them were persons whose character, and even whose
little peculiarities of language, he caught and remembered. One of
these, a retired Captain Balne, although he failed in prevailing on the
young clergyman to take a glass of grog, his own favourite cure for all
ailments, was pleased when the curate came to take a dish of tea with
him and his gentle wife. Once, when Ramsay was ill, the grief in the
parish was universal; but he used to say that the greatest proof of
attachment was given by Captain Balne, who happened to be enjoying his
dinner when the news of his friend's illness reached him, upon which he
laid down his knife and fork, and declared he could not take another
mouthful. Captain Balne had a peculiar phraseology. One phrase, in
particular, was, "If I may be allowed the language," which came readily
on all occasions. If he was asked "How is Mrs. Balne to-day?" the
Captain would reply, "She is quite well, I thank you, Mr. Ramsay, if I
may be allowed the language;" or ask him, "Have you a good crop of
apples this year?" "Pretty middling, sir, if I may be allowed the
language." The constant recurrence of the phrase struck Mr. Ramsay, who
quoted it long after in his letters to his Frome friends--"I am glad to
say my congregation at St John's continues good--if I may be allowed the
language."

Buckland is a larger vi