ficient to create painful sensations. (1) Fiction itself, we know, and every work of fancy, must for a time

(1) [Mr. Crabbe often expressed great admiration of the following lines by Mr. Matthias:

"The dread resistless pow'r

That works deep-felt at inspiration's hour,
He claims alone-

Who claims ?

The favour'd BARD,

Who, nobly conscious of his just reward,
With loftier soul, and undecaying might,
Paints what he feels, in characters of light.
He turns and, instantaneous, all around,
Cliffs whiten, waters murmur, voices sound;
Portentous forms in heaven's aërial hall
Appear, as at some great supernal call.

"Thence oft in thought his steps ideal haste
To rocks and groves, the wilderness or waste;
To plains, where Tadmor's regal ruins lie
In desolation's sullen majesty :

Or where Carthusian spires the pilgrim draw

And bow the soul with unresisted awe;

Whence Bruno, from the mountain's pine-clad brow,

Survey'd the world's inglorious toil below;

Then, as down ragged cliffs the torrent roar'd,
Prostrate great Nature's present God adored,
And bade, in solitude's extremest bourn,

Religion hallow the severe sojourn.

"Thence musing, lo, he bends his weary eyes
On LIFE, and all its sad realities;

Marks how the prospect darkens in the rear,
Shade blends with shade, and fear succeeds to fear,
'Mid forms that rise, and flutter through the gloom,
Till Death unbar the cold sepulchral room.

"Such is the POET: such his claim divine!

Imagination's 'charter'd libertine,'

He scorns, in apathy, to float or dream

On listless Satisfaction's torpid stream,

But dares, ALONE, in venturous bark to ride

Down turbulent Delight's tempestuous tide;

With thoughts encount'ring thoughts in conflict strong,

The deep Pierian thunder of the song

Rolls o'er his raptured sense; the realms on high

For him disclose their varied majesty;

He feels the call:- then bold, beyond control,

Stamps on the immortal page the visions of his soul!"]

have the effect of realities; nay, the very enchanters, spirits, and monsters of Ariosto and Spenser must be present in the mind of the reader while he is engaged by their operations, or they would be as the objects and incidents of a nursery tale to a rational understanding, altogether despised and neglected. in truth, I can but consider this pleasant effect upon the mind of a reader, as depending neither upon the events related (whether they be actual or imaginary), nor upon the characters introduced (whether taken from life or fancy), but upon the manner in which the poem itself is conducted; let that be judiciously managed, and the occurrences actually copied from life will have the same happy effect as the inventions of a creative fancy;— while, on the other hand, the imaginary persons and incidents to which the poet has given a local habitation and a name," will make upon the concurring feelings of the reader the same impressions with those taken from truth and nature, because they will appear to be derived from that source, and therefore of necessity will have a similar effect.

66

Having thus far presumed to claim for the ensuing pages the rank and title of poetry, I attempt no more, nor venture to class or compare them with any other kinds of poetical composition; their place will doubtless be found for them.

A principal view and wish of the poet must be to engage the mind of his readers, as, failing in that point, he will scarcely succeed in any other·

I therefore willingly confess that much of my time and assiduity has been devoted to this purpose; but, to the ambition of pleasing, no other sacrifices have, I trust, been made, than of my own labour and care. Nothing will be found that militates against the rules of propriety and good manners, nothing that offends against the more important precepts of morality and religion; and with this negative kind of merit, I commit my book to the judgment and taste of the reader-not being willing to provoke his vigilance by professions of accuracy, nor to solicit his indulgence by apologies for mistakes.

TALES. (1)

(1) ["These Tales may be considered as supplementary chapters to "The Parish Register,' or 'The Borough.' The same tone, the same subjects, the same finished and minute delineation of things quite ordinary and common; the same kindly sympathy with the humble and innocent pleasures of the Poor, and the same indulgence for their venial offences, contrasted with a strong sense of their frequent depravity, and too constant a recollection of the sufferings it produces; and, finally, the same honours paid to the delicate affections and ennobling passions of humble life, with the same generous testimony to their frequent existence, mixed up as before with a reprobation sufficiently rigid, and a ridicule sufficiently severe, of their excesses and affectations. If we were required to make a comparative estimate of the merits of the present work, or to point out the shades of difference by which it is distinguished from those that have gone before it, we should say, that there are in it a greater number of instances in which the poet has combined the natural language and manners of humble life with the energy of true passion, and the beauty of generous affection,-in which he has traced out the course of those rich and lovely veins even in the rude and unpolished masses that lie at the bottom of society, — and unfolded, in the middling orders of the people, the workings of those finer feelings, and the stirrings of those loftier emotions, which the partiality of other poets had hitherto attributed almost exclusively to actors on a higher scene. It appears to us, that the volume now before us is more uniformly and directly moral and beneficial in its tendency, than any of those which Mr. Crabbe has hitherto given to the public- consists less of mere curious specimens of description and gratuitous dissections of character, but inculcates, for the most part, some weighty and practical precept, and points right on to the cheerful path by which duty leads us forward to enjoyment."— Edinburgh Review, 1812.]