"So all shall tremble, wretches who oppose
"Our Church or State-thus be it to our foes."

He spoke, and, seated with his former air, Look'd his full self, and fill'd his ample chair; Took one full bumper to each favourite cause, And dwelt all night on politics and laws,

With high applauding voice, that gain'd him high applause. (1)

(1) [This tale is not judiciously placed at the portal to tempt hesitating readers to go forward. The fault, however, is entirely in the subject, which commands no strong or general interest; for it is perfectly well conceived and executed. The object of it is to show, that a man's fluency and force and intrepidity of speech depend very much upon his confidence of the approbation of his auditors; and, accordingly, it exhibits the orthodox, loyal, authoritative Justice Bolt struck quite dumb in an assembly of Jacobins into which he happens to stray; and the Jacobin orator, in like manner, reduced to stammering and imbecility, when detected at a dinner of parsons. The description of Justice Bolt is admirable, and may stand for a portrait of more than one provincial dictator. - JEFFREY.]

TALE II.

THE PARTING HOUR.

I did not take my leave of him, but had
Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him
How I would think of him, at certain hours,
Such thoughts and such; -or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss, which I had set

Betwixt two charming words-comes in my father.- Cymbeline.

Grief hath changed me since you saw me last,

And careful hours with Time's deformed hand

Have written strange defeatures o'er my face. - Comedy of Errors.

Oh! if thou be the same Egean, speak,

And speak unto the same Emilia. - Comedy of Errors.

I ran it through, ev'n from my boyish days
To the very moment that she bad me tell it,
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery. - Othello.

An old man, broken with the storms of fate,

Is come to lay his weary bones among you;
Give him a little earth for charity.- Henry VIII.

175

TALE II.

THE PARTING HOUR. (1)

MINUTELY trace man's life ; year after year,
Through all his days let all his deeds appear,
And then, though some may in that life be strange,
Yet there appears no vast nor sudden change:
The links that bind those various deeds are seen,
And no mysterious void is left between.

But let these binding links be all destroy'd,
All that through years he suffer'd or enjoy'd:

(1) [Mr. Crabbe's fourth brother, William, taking to a seafaring life, was made prisoner by the Spaniards: he was carried to Mexico, where he became a silversmith, married, and prospered, until his increasing riches attracted a charge of Protestantism; the consequence of which was much persecution. He at last was obliged to abandon Mexico, his property, and his family; and was discovered, in the year 1803, by an Aldborough sailor, on the coast of Honduras, where agair he seems to have found some success in business. This sailor was the only person he had seen for many a year who could tell him any thing of Aldborough and his family; and great was his perplexity when he was informed that his eldest brother, George, was a clergyman. "This cannot be our George," said the wanderer"he was a doctor!" This was the first, and it was also the last, tidings that ever reached Mr. Crabbe of his brother William; and, upon the Aldborough sailor's story of his casual interview, it is obvious that he built this tale. See antè, Vol. I. p. 4.]

Let that vast gap be made, and then behold-
This was the youth, and he is thus when old;
Then we at once the work of time survey,
And in an instant see a life's decay;
Pain mix'd with pity in our bosoms rise,
And sorrow takes new sadness from surprise.

-

Beneath yon tree, observe an ancient pair A sleeping man; a woman in her chair, Watching his looks with kind and pensive air; Nor wife, nor sister she, nor is the name Nor kindred of this friendly pair the same; Yet so allied are they, that few can feel Her constant, warm, unwearied, anxious zeal; Their years and woes, although they long have loved Keep their good name and conduct unreproved; Thus life's small comforts they together share, And while life lingers for the grave prepare.

No other subjects on their spirits press, Nor gain such int'rest as the past distress; Grievous events, that from the mem❜ry drive Life's common cares, and those alone survive, Mix with each thought, in every action share, Darken each dream, and blend with every prayer.

To David Booth, his fourth and last-born boy, Allen his name, was more than common joy; And as the child grew up, there seem'd in him, A more than common life in every limb; A strong and handsome stripling he became, And the gay spirit answer'd to the frame;