TALE V.

THE PATRON.

It were all one,

That I should love a bright peculiar star,

And think to wed it; she is so much above me :
In her bright radiance and collateral heat

Must I be comforted, not in her sphere.

TALE V.

THE PATRON. (1)

A BOROUGH-BAILIFF, who to law was train'd,
A wife and sons in decent state maintain'd;
He had his way in life's rough ocean steer'd,
And many a rock and coast of danger clear'd;
He saw where others fail'd, and care had he,
Others in him should not such failings see:
His sons in various busy states were placed,
And all began the sweets of gain to taste,

(1) [The numberless allusions to the nature of a literary dependant's existence in a great lord's house, which occur in Mr. Crabbe's writings, and especially in the tale of The Patron,' are quite enough to lead any one who knew his character and feelings to the conclusion that, notwithstanding the kindness and condescension of the Duke and Duchess of Rutland,-which were uniform, and of which he always spoke with gratitude, -the situation he filled at Belvoir was attended with many painful circumstances, and productive in his mind of some of the acutest sensations of wounded pride that have ever been traced by any pen. Life, antè, Vol. I. p. 113.

"Did any of my sons show poetical talent, of which, to my great satisfaction, there are no appearances, the first thing I should do, would be to inculcate upon him the duty of cultivating some honourable profession, and qualifying himself to play a more respectable part in society than the mere poet. And as the best corollary of my doctrine, I would make him get your tale of 'The Patron' by heart from beginning to end."-Sir Walter Scott to Mr. Crabbe. See antè, Vol. I. p. 203.]

Save John, the younger, who, of sprightly parts,
Felt not a love for money-making arts:

In childhood feeble, he, for country air,
Had long resided with a rustic pair;

All round whose room were doleful ballads, songs,
Of lovers' sufferings and of ladies' wrongs;
Of peevish ghosts who came at dark midnight,
For breach of promise, guilty men to fright;
Love, marriage, murder, were the themes, with these,
All that on idle, ardent spirits seize ;

Robbers at land and pirates on the main,
Enchanters foil'd, spells broken, giants slain;
Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers,
Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice flowers,
And all the hungry mind without a choice devours.

From village-children kept apart by pride, With such enjoyments, and without a guide, Inspired by feelings all such works infused, John snatch'd a pen, and wrote as he perused: With the like fancy he could make his knight Slay half a host, and put the rest to flight; With the like knowledge he could make him ride From isle to isle at Parthenissa's (1) side; And with a heart yet free, no busy brain Form'd wilder notions of delight and pain, The raptures smiles create, the anguish of disdain.

(1) [The title of a romance written by Roger Boyle, Earl of Orrery, and published in 1665. "Budgell, in his History of the Boyles, says that 'few who can relish any romance will dislike this:' and Langbane tells us, that 'it yields not, either in beauty, language, or design, to the works of the famous Scuderi or Calprenade, however famous they may be amongst the French, for pieces of this nature.””. - Biog. Brit.]

Such were the fruits of John's poetic toil,
Weeds, but still proofs of vigour in the soil;
He nothing purposed but with vast delight,
Let Fancy loose, and wonder'd at her flight:
His notions of poetic worth were high,
And of his own still-hoarded poetry;

These to his father's house he bore with pride,
A miser's treasure, in his room to hide;
Till spurr'd by glory, to a reading friend
He kindly show'd the sonnets he had penn'd:
With erring judgment, though with heart sincere,
That friend exclaim'd, "These beauties must appear."
In magazines they claim'd their share of fame,
Though undistinguish'd by their author's name;
And with delight the young enthusiast found
The muse of Marcus with applauses crown'd.
This heard the father, and with some alarm;
"The boy," said he, " will neither trade nor farm ;
"He for both law and physic is unfit,

"Wit he may have, but cannot live on wit:

"Let him his talents then to learning give

"Where verse is honour'd, and where poets live."

John kept his terms at college unreproved,
Took his degree, and left the life he loved;
Not yet ordain'd, his leisure he employ'd
In the light labours he so much enjoy'd;
His favourite notions and his daring views
Were cherish'd still, and he adored the Muse.

"A little time, and he should burst to light, "And admiration of the world excite;