Ye channels, wandering through the spacious street,
In hollow murmurs roll the dirt along,
With inundations wet the sabled feet,
Whilst gouts, responsive, join the elegiac song.
Ye damsels fair, whose silver voices shrill
Sound through meandering folds of Echo's horn,
Let the sweet cry of liberty be still,
No more let smoking cakes awake the morn.
O Winter! put away thy snowy pride;
O Spring! neglect the cowslip and the bell
O Summer! throw thy pears and plums aside;
O Autumn! bid the grape with poison swell:-
The pensioned muse of Johnson is no more!
Drowned in a butt of wine his genius lies.
Earth, Ocean, Heaven, the wondrous loss deplore;
The dregs of Nature with her glory dies.
What iron Stoic can suppress the tear?
What sour reviewer read with vacant eye?
What bard but decks his literary bier?—
Alas! I cannot sing-I howl-I cry!
[Born at Aldborough, Suffolk, 24 December 1754; died at Trowbridge, Wilts, February 1832. The father of Crabbe was a collector of salt-duties-a poor man with a large family. Crabbe, after picking up some smattering of knowledge, was apprenticed to an apothecary; and continued for awhile, with little encouragement, to act as a druggist and country practitioner. In 1780 he boldly broke with this course of life, and came to London as a literary adventurer: one poem of his, Inebriety, had already been published in Ipswich some years before. In London he issued The Candidate; which was successful, but, through the failure of his bookseller, brought no profit to the author. In desperation he applied at a venture to the statesman Burke for assistance; was kindly received; and eventually enabled to take holy orders. He became rector of Muston, Leicestershire, and finally of Trowbridge; where he had once served with an apothecary, and had fallen in love with the lady, Miss Elmy, whom he married. The Village, The Parish Register, The Borough, and Tales of the Hall, are among his leading poems. Crabbe was a man of solid worth, upright and tender. The same qualities shine in his writings, which are masterpieces of sound strong sense, full of observation, shrewdness, and knowledge of character, chiefly in the lower or the middle ranks of life. They transfer into the domain of narrative some of the sententious decorum, castigating truth, and literary propriety, of the didactic school of the eighteenth century. Of course, some poetic readers will demur to a form of poetry which is not based on ideal perceptions, and does not afford any imaginative medium of conciliation between life and beauty-or scarcely any, allowance being made for descriptive passages of uncommon force, not unfrequently recurring: yet even these readers can, on other grounds, peruse Crabbe with no little gratificationl.
THE DUMB ORATORS: OR. THE BENEFIT OF SOCIETY.
THAT all men would be cowards if they dare
Some men, we know, have courage to declare;
And this the life of many a hero shows,
That, like the tide, man's courage ebbs and flows.
With friends and gay companions round them, then
Men boldly speak, and have the hearts of men ;
Who, with opponents seated, miss the aid
Of kind applauding looks, and grow afraid.
Like timid travellers in the night, they fear
The assault of foes, when not a friend is near.
In contest mighty, and of conquest proud,
Was Justice Bolt, impetuous, warm, and loud ;
His fame, his prowess, all the country knew,
And disputants, with one so fierce, were few.
He was a younger son, for law designed,
With dauntless look and persevering mind;
While yet a clerk, for disputation famed,
No efforts tired him, and no conflicts tamed.
Scarcely he bade his master's desk adieu,
When both his brothers from the world withdrew
An ample fortune he from them possessed,
And was with saving care and prudence blest.
Now would he go and to the country give
Example how an English squire should live ;
How bounteous, yet how frugal, man may be,
By a well-ordered hospitality.
He would the rights of all so well maintain
That none should idle be, and none complain.
All this and more he purposed--and what man
Could do he did to realize his plan :
But time convinced him that we cannot keep
A breed of reasoners like a flock of sheep;
For they, so far from following as we lead,
Make that a cause why they will not proceed.
Man will not follow where a rule is shown,
But loves to take a method of his own:
Explain the way with all your care and skill,
This will he quit, if but to prove he will.-
Yet had our Justice honour-and the crowd,
Awed by his presence, their respect avowed.
In later years he found his heart incline,
More than in youth, to generous food and wine ;
But no indulgence checked the powerful love
He felt to teach, to argue, and reprove.
Meetings, or public calls, he never missed-
To dictate often, always to assist.
Oft he the clergy joined, and not a cause
Pertained to them but he could quote the laws;
He upon tithes and residence displayed
A fund of knowledge for the hearer's aid ;
And could on glebe and farming, wool and grain, A long discourse, without a pause, maintain.
To his experience and his native sense
He joined a bold imperious eloquence;
The grave, stern look of men informed and wise,
A full command of feature, heart, and eyes,
An awe-compelling frown, and fear-inspiring size.
When at the table, not a guest was seen
With appetite so lingering or so keen ;
But, when the outer man no more required,
The inner waked, and he was man inspired.
His subjects then were those a subject true
Presents in fairest form to public view;
Df church and state, of law, with mighty strength
Of words he spoke, in speech of mighty length.
And now, into the vale of years declined,
He hides too little of the monarch-mind.
He kindles anger by untimely jokes,
And opposition by contempt provokes ;
Mirth he suppresses by his awful frown,
And humble spirits, by disdain, keeps down ;
Blamed by the mild, approved by the severe,
The prudent fly him, and the valiant fear.
For overbearing is his proud discourse,
And overwhelming of his voice the force:
And overpowering is he when he shows
What floats upon a mind that always overflows.
This ready man at every meeting rose,
Something to hint, determine, or propose;
And grew so fond of teaching that he taught
Those who instruction needed not or sought.
Happy our hero when he could excite
Some thoughtless talker to the wordy fight.
Let him a subject at his pleasure choose,
Physic or law, religion or the muse;
On all such themes he was prepared to shine,-
Physician, poet, lawyer, and divine.
Hemmed in by some tough argument, borne down By press of language and the awful frown,
In vain for mercy shall the culprit plead ;
His crime is past, and sentence must proceed :
Ah suffering man! have patience, bear thy woes-
For lo! the clock-at ten the Justice goes.
This powerful man, on business, or to please
A curious taste, or weary grown of ease,
On a long journey travelled many a mile
Westward, and halted midway in our isle ;
Content to view a city large and fair,
Though none had notice what a man was there!
Silent two days, he then began to long
Again to try a voice so loud and strong;
To give his favourite topics some new grace,
And gain some glory in such distant place;
To reap some present pleasure, and to sow
Seeds of fair fame, in after-time to grow:
"Here will men say, 'We heard, at such an hour,
The best of speakers-wonderful his power.'
Enquiry made, he found that day would meet
A learned club, and in the very street.
Knowledge to gain and give was the design;
To speak, to hearken, to debate, and dine.
This pleased our traveller, for he felt his force
In either way, to eat or to discourse.
Nothing more easy than to gain access
To men like these, with his polite address.
So he succeeded, and first looked around,
To view his objects and to take his ground;
And therefore silent chose awhile to sit,
Then enter boldly by some lucky hit;
Some observation keen or stroke severe,
To cause some wonder or excite some fear.
Now, dinner past, no longer he suppressed
His strong dislike to be a silent guest;
Subjects and words were now at his command-
When disappointment frowned on all he planned.
For, hark he heard amazed, on every side,
His church insulted and her priests belied;
The laws reviled, the ruling power abused,
The land derided, and its foes excused.
He heard and pondered-What, to men so vile,
Should be his language?—For his threatening style
They were too many ;- -if his speech were meek,
They would despise such poor attempts to speak.
At other times with every word at will,
He now sat lost, perplexed, astonished, still.
Here were Socinians, Deists, and indeed
All who, as foes to England's church, agreed;
But still with creeds unlike, and some without a creed.
Here, too, fierce friends of liberty he saw,
Who owned no prince and who obey no law.
There were reformers of each different sort,
Foes to the laws, the priesthood, and the court;
Some on their favourite plans alone intent,
Some purely angry and malevolent.
The rash were proud to blame their country's laws;
The vain, to seem supporters of a cause;
One called for change, that he would dread to see ;
Another sighed for Gallic liberty;
And numbers joining with the forward crew,
For no one reason-but that numbers do.
"How," said the Justice, "can this trouble rise,
This shame and pain, from creatures I despise ?"
And Conscience answered-" The prevailing cause
Is thy delight in listening to applause.
Here, thou art seated with a tribe who spurn
Thy favourite themes, and into laughter turn
Thy fears and wishes. Silent and obscure,
Thyself, shalt thou the long harangue endure;
And learn, by feeling, what it is to force
On thy unwilling friends the long discourse.
What though thy thoughts be just, and these, it seems,
Are traitors' projects, idiots' empty schemes,
Yet minds, like bodies, crammed, reject their food,
Nor will be forced and tortured for their good."
At length, a sharp, shrewd, sallow man arose,
And begged he briefly might his mind disclose;
It was his duty, in these worst of times,
To inform the governed of their rulers' crimes.
This pleasant subject to attend, they each
Prepared to listen, and forbore to teach.
Then, voluble and fierce, the wordy man
Through a long chain of favourite horrors ran :—
First, of the Church, from whose enslaving power,
He was delivered, and he blessed the hour.
Bishops and deans and prebendaries all,
He said, were cattle fattening in the stall.
Slothful and pursy, insolent and mean,
Were every bishop, prebendary, dean,
And wealthy rector: curates, poorly paid,
Were only dull ;-he would not them upbraid.
From priests he turned to canons, creeds, and prayers, Rubrics and rules, and all our Church affairs;
Churches themselves, desk, pulpit, altar, all
The Justice reverenced-and pronounced their fall.
Then from religion Hammond turned his view,
To give our Rulers the correction due ;
Not one wise action had these triflers planned;
There was, it seemed, no wisdom in the land,
Save in this patriot tribe, who meet at times
To show the statesman's errors and his crimes.
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