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and exaggerated, that one really cannot speak of them, without some danger of being tainted by that spirit of harshness which pervades them. The strength of the reviewers critical artillery seems expended in establishing and expanding two principles, both in themselves so right, that they do not require such violence of argument to prove them. But Addison, the gentle and correct Addison, talks of people in his days, who were outrageously virtuous. The principles I allude to are these: First, That Burns's humble situation did not, in these days of plenteous instruction, when the stores of elegant literature lie so open to all capable of tasting them, exclude him from the best sources of improvement; but that, on the contrary, placed below the region of conceit, affectation, and fastidiousness, he not only looked on nature with a lover's eye, but saw it so near and undisguised, that he was able to copy it with more fidelity of similitude, and greater freshness of colouring, than his more polished and instructed superiors.

The next is no less just in itself, though expressed in a manner cruel to departed genius, and equally offensive to candour and humanity. It says, and says truly, that no opinion can be

more dangerous in itself, or has had a more pernicious influence on society, than that of the necessary union between great talents and ungovernable passions: That the splendid sanction of genius is thus given to opinions the most absurd, and to vices the most debasing; and that, by habitually indulging this most erroneous position, the natural union betwixt virtue and genius is dissolved, and impudent vice is encouraged to claim alliance with talents, merely by aping it in its excesses and eccentricities. The position laid down is certainly just; but the inferences drawn, and the marked and close application to the case of Burns, is in a high degree cruel and partial; as will appear in looking back to the most painful of all retrospects, the history of the hard fated bard. Whoever, without reading the life of Burns, should peruse this caustic criticism, and afterwards read his poems with eyes jaundiced by such a representation, must of course conclude, that he had spent his whole life in the most extravagant dissipation, and that his whole scope in his writings, was to recommend to others that course of life which had produced so little comfort to himself. Let us appeal to facts undeniable: Certainly never was the life of any individual in the lowerw alks

of life, examined with such scrupulous minuteness, and narrated with such rigorous fidelity: Perhaps, in all the stores of biographical evidence, there are not to be found memorials so valuable for their unimpeached truth, their native candour, their simple pathos, and the charming and affecting picture they present to the mind, as the letters of Murdoch the teacher, and Gilbert the brother of the poet: Here one sees the lovely artless countenance of rustic virtue, unadorned yet undebased,

"Severe, tho' pure, in filial freedom plac'd." Volumes of argument and declamation would not so strongly impress on the mind this eternal truth, "That virtue, placed on the right basis of true "piety, and guarded by temperance of life and simplicity of manners, is sufficient for happi"ness," as the perusal of these

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"Short and simple annals of the poor."

Lions are not painters, nor are peasants writers; hence a picture of rural life, in the most primitive and picturesque of countries, truly drawn by one who really shared it, is inestimable as a curiosity, as well as valuable as a document. A true picture of rural life is rarely met with. Many have cheated and amused the fancy with

images of poetical shepherds, who knowing no suffering but what arose from the scorn of their mistresses, or the wandering of their sheep, piped in lazy luxury of shade and sunshine, among embowering trees and flowery meads. To contrast this ideal picture, CRABBE has given us one of the sad realities of life, among a sordid, ignorant, and vicious peasantry; delineated by a hand at once forcible and faithful, it strikes us powerfully with a consciousness of its similitude. Yet we are ready to cry with the poet, when addressing the painter of King Charles's trial,

"Thy steady hand betrays thy savage heart."

We wonder and lament that any country should shelter such a populace; and are astonished that a teacher of religion could patiently view, or accurately paint, scenes which do so little honour to his country. We turn disgusted from the nauseous picture, to behold the hardy and self-denying efforts of sturdy independence, labouring strenuously for mere bread, yet enlightened by the radiance of divine truth, and having the humble and hard-earned meal sweetened by the purest, warmest affections; the most perfect family union, and gleams of taste and intelligence worthy of an Attic feast. How glowing and ani

mated does the scene become, when heightened by the dark yet ardent countenance of the young peasant, lighted up with the beams of genius and sensibility, or tinctured with the sublime enthusiasm of devotion and patriotism, that waked the first ardour of his youthful breast! How pleasing to view this interesting youth, so rich in the gifts of nature, so capable of adding to them all that is valuable in mental culture; and so qualified, even then, to taste, with exquisite relish, all that is noble, tender, or generous, in life or description!— How affecting to see a creature so exalted, devoted, with indefatigable perseverance, to duties the most humble and laborious;-living contented on the poorest fare; exhausting his strength in tasks beyond the ability of all his equals !—seeking no other superiority, but that derived from the strenuous and patient exertion of his bodily powers; and supported by devotion and the inspiring muse of his native land, under hardships and privations beyond the conception of even those who inhabit the middle region of life. That period of life which is in every condition most environed by temptation, and least guarded by caution, was past by him in the most perfect innocence and severest industry! When talents, whose brilliancy made them dan

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