smothering, as it were, his head among the bed-clothes, gave vent to the full passion of his sorrow. It was in vain that the wretched mother, terrified by the vehemence of her husband's affliction,affliction still more fearful as agitating a man of hardened manners and a robust frame,-suppressed her own sobs and tears, and, pulling him by the skirts of his coat, implored him to rise and remember that, though one was removed, he had still a wife and children to comfort and support. The appeal came at too early a period of his anguish, and was totally unattended to: he continued to remain prostrate, indicating, by sobs so bitter and violent that they shook the bed and partition against which it rested, by clenched hands which grasped the bed-clothes, and by the vehement and convulsive motion of his legs, how deep and how terrible was the agony of a father's sorrow. GEORGE CRABBE, 1754-1832. Farewell, dear Crabbe! thou meekest of mankind, To drag forth dark hypocrisy to light, To brand the oppressor, and to shame the proud, To shield the righteous from the slanderous crowd; Repentance ever was thy welcome child: In every state-as husband, parent, friend, Scholar or bard-thou couldst the Christian blend. GEORGE CRABBE was born at Aldborough, in Suffolk, on the 24th of December, 1754, and was the son of an officer of the customs. He was apprenticed to an apothecary, and received an education merely sufficient to qualify him for that occupation, but by no means answering to that eminent literary success which he afterwards attained. His poetical taste was first kindled by the perusal of verses which from time to time appeared in the Philosophical Magazine, a periodical taken by his father. The attractions of the Muse soon overcame those of Esculapius, and in 1778 he quitted the profession of medicine, which he had always disliked, and went to London, determining to apply himself to literature. He had but little more in his pocket than a bundle of his poems; and these, alas! he could find no one who would veuture to publish; so that at length he printed, at his own risk, his first published work, The Candidate, which appeared anonymously in 1780. It was favorably noticed in the Monthly Review, to the editor of which it was addressed. Finding, however, that he could not hope for much success while he remained personally un 1 John Duncan, Esq., of New College, Oxford. known, without any introduction, and impelled by distress, he made himself known to Edmund Burke. From this moment his fortune was made.1 That great and good man received him with much kindness, read his productions with approbation, afforded him the advantage of his criticism and advice, recommended him to Dodsley the publisher, invited him to his house, and introduced him to some of his distinguished literary friends, among whom were Johnson, Reynolds, and Fox. Crabbe's first published poems, after his acquaintance with Burke, were The Library and The Village, both of which received the benefit of the observations of the great statesman and critic, and the second of which was mainly composed at Burke's residence at Beaconsfield. In 1781, Crabbe, who had been qualifying himself for "the church" at Burke's recommendation, was "ordained a deacon, and took priest's orders the following year," and he, of course, had two or three "livings" presented to him.2 In 1783 appeared The Village, which had received the corrections and commendations of Dr. Johnson.3 He next produced The Newspaper, in 1785, after which his poetical labors were suspended for some time, probably on account of the duties of his profession and the cares of a growing family, though he ascribes it to the loss of those early and distinguished friends who had given him the benefit of their criticism. In 1809 appeared The Parish Register; in 1810, one of his best poems, The Borough; and in 1812, Tales in Verse. His last publication was entitled Tales of the Hall, and was published in 1819. The latter years of his life he spent in the tranquil and amiable exercise of his domestic and clerical duties, at the rectory of Trowbridge, esteemed and admired by his parishioners, among whom he died, after a short illness, on the 8th of February, 1832.4 Crabbe is one of the most original of English poets, and, as has been well remarked, "his originality is of that best kind, which displays itself not in tumid exaggeration or flighty extravagance,-not in a wide departure from the sober standard of truth,—but in a more rigid and uncompromising adherence to it than inferior writers venture to attempt." He is pre-eminently the poet of the poor, describing with graphic minuteness their privations, temptations, and vices. But, while he spares some of their vices, he does more justice to their 1" Mr. Crabbe's journal of his London life, extending over a period of three months, is one of the most affecting documents which ever lent an interest to biography. Arriving in the metropolis In the beginning of 1800, without money, friends, or introductions, he rapidly sank into penury and suffering. His landlord threatened him, and hunger and a jail already stared him in the face. In this emergency he ventured to solicit the notice of three individuals eminent for station and influence. He applied to Lord North, Lord Shelburne, and Lord Thurlow, but without #ccess. In a happy moment the name of Burke entered his mind, and he appealed to his sympathy in the following letter. result is well known. In Burke the happy poet found not only a patron and a friend, but a sagacious adviser and an accomplished critic. WILLMOTT. The "The tears stood in Crabbe's eyes while he talked of Burke's kindness to him in his distress: and I remember he said, 'The night after I delivered my letter at his door, I was in such a state of agitation that I walked Westminster Bridge, backward and forward, until daylight.'"-LOCKHART. 2 Lord Chancellor Thurlow bestowed upon him, successively, the "living" of Frome St. Quintin, in Dorsetshire, which he held for six years, and the rectories of Muston and West Allington, in the diocese of Lincoln. 3 Johnson, in a letter to Sir Joshua Reynolds, thus writes, "I have sent you back Mr. Crabbe's poem, which I read with great delight. It is original, vigorous, and elegant." The following is his portrait as drawn by Lockhart:-"His noble forehead, his bright beaming eye, without any thing of old age about it, though he was then above seventy, -bis sweet and, I would say, innocent smile, and the calm, mellow tones of his voice, are all reproduced the moment I open any page of his poetry.” 5 Mr. Crabbe exhibits the common people of England pretty much as they are, and as they must appear to every one who will take the trouble of examining into their condition; at the same time that he renders his sketches in a very high degree interesting and beauti virtues, and renders them more important objects of consideration, than perhaps any other imaginative writer. His chief characteristics are simplicity. force, pathos, and truth in describing character; and through these and the originality of his style he compels us to bestow our attention on objects that are usually neglected. All his works are distinguished by high moral aims. He had a heart to feel for his fellow-man in however low and humble a sphere he may be placed, and he directs our sympathy where it is well for the cause of humanity that it should be directed, but where the squalidness of misery and want too frequently repels it.1 An edition of his poems, in eight volumes, was published by Murray in 1851, the first volume being occupied by a very pleasing piece of filial biography by his son, the Rev. George Crabbe.2 THE PARISH WORKHOUSE. Theirs is yon house that holds the parish poor, And crippled age with more than childhood-fears; Here too the sick their final doom receive, Whose laws indeed for ruin'd age provide, And strong compulsion plucks the scrap from pride; Say ye, oppress'd by some fantastic woes, Who press the downy couch, while slaves advance, ful, by selecting what is most fit for description,-by grouping them into such forms as must catch the attention or awake the memory, -and by scattering over the whole such traits of moral sensibility, of sarcasm, and of useful reflection, as every one must feel to be natural and own to be powerful."-Edinburgh Review, xii. 133. 1 "Though his having taken a view of life too minute, too humiliating, too painful, and too just, may have deprived his works of so extensive, or, at least, so brilliant, a popularity as some of his contemporaries have attained, yet I venture to believe that there is no poet of his times who will stand higher in the opinion of posterity. He generally des with the short and simple annals of the poor;" but he exhibits them with such a deep knowledge of human nature, with such general ease and simplicity, and such accurate force of expression, whether gay or pathetical, as, in my humble judgment, no poet, except Shakspeare, has excelled."-J. WILSON CROKER, in Boswell's Johnson, viii. 164. 2 See articles in Edinburgh Review, xii. 131; xvi. 30; xx. 277; xxxii. 118; and lx. 255. Who with mock patience dire complaints endure, How would ye bear to draw your latest breath Where the vile bands that bind the thatch are seen, THE ALMSHOUSE PHYSICIAN. But soon a loud and hasty summons calls, Shakes the thin roof, and echoes round the walls; Anon, a figure enters, quaintly neat, All pride and business, bustle and conceit; Paid by the parish for attendance here, THE HARDSHIPS OF THE POOR. Or will you deem them amply paid in health, Through fens and marshy moors their steps pursue, Yet grant them health, 'tis not for us to tell, Whom the smooth stream and smoother sonnet please, A BETROTHED PAIR IN HUMBLE LIFE. Yes, there are real mourners: I have seen But when her wearied parents sunk to sleep, Happy he sail'd, and great the care she took; |