Still, still the water rises," Haste!" they cry.
"Oh! hurry, seamen, in delay we die!"
(Seamen were these who in their ship perceiv'd
The drifted boat, and thus her crew reliev'd.)
And now the keel just cuts the cover'd sand,
Now to the gunwale stretches every hand;
With trembling pleasure all confus'd embark,
And kiss the tackling of their welcome ark;
While the most giddy, as they reach the shore,

Think of their danger, and their God adore. ' p. 127-30, In the letter on Education, there are some fine descriptions of boarding-schools for both sexes, and of the irksome and useless restraints which they impose on the bounding spirits and open affections of early youth. This is followed by some excellent remarks on the ennui which so often falls to the lot of the learned,or that description at least of the learned that are bred in English universities. Mr Crabbe takes a view of this envied character, in the only two stations in which he is likely to be placed,-cither settled in a country living, or residing with honour as a fellow. In the first, he says, he is sure to be oppressed with his duties and his solitude, or unsuitable society.

And though a while his flock and dairy please,

He soon reverts to former joys and ease,

Glad when a friend shall come to break his rest,
And speak of all the pleasures they possest,-
Of masters, fellows, tutors, all with whom
They shar'd those pleasures, never more to come
Till both conceive the times by bliss endear'd,
Which once so dismal and so dull appear'd.

But fix our scholar, and suppose him crown'd
With all the glory gain'd on classic ground;
Suppose the world without a sigh resign'd,
And to his college all his care confin'd;
Give him all honours that such states allow,
The freshman's terror and the tradesman's bow;
Let his apartments with his taste agree,
And all his views be those he loves to see;
Let him each day behold the savoury treat,
For which he pays not, but is paid to eat;
These joys and glories soon delight no more,
Although withheld, the mind is vex'd and sore,
Unlike the prophet's is the scholar's case,
His honour all is in his dwelling-place:
And there such honours are familiar things,
What is a monarch in a crowd of kings?
Like other sovereigns he 's by forms addrest,
By statutes govern'd, and with rules opprest,
D q

When

• When all these forms and duties die away,
And the day passes like the former day,
Then of exterior things at once bereft,
He's to himself and one attendant left;

Nay, John too goes; when nought of service more
Remains for him, he gladly quits the door,
And, as he whistles to the college gate,

He kindly pities his poor master's fate.

6

Books cannot always please, however good;
Minds are not ever craving for their food;

But sleep will soon the weary soul prepare
For cares to-morrow that were this day's care;
For forms, for feasts, that sundry times have past,

And formal feasts that will for ever last. p. 341-2.

We have no longer left room for any considerable extracts; though we should have wished to lay before our readers some part of the picture of the sectaries,--the description of the inns,— the strolling players,-and the clubs. The poor man's club, which partakes of the nature of a friendly society, is described with that good-hearted indulgence which marks all Mr Crabbe's writings. The printed rules he guards in painted frame,

And shows his children where to read his name,' &c. In Ellen Orford, too, though the story partakes too much of those horrors which produce such an effect in his former poem of the Gypsey Woman, there is much genuine pathos, and much fine observation of human character. This patient woman was seduced in early youth, and thus describes her desolation.

"Ah! sad it was my burthen to sustain,

"When the least misery was the dread of pain; "When I have grieving told him my disgrace, "And plainly mark'd indifference in his face. "Hard! with these fears and terrors to behold "The cause of all, the faithless lover cold; "Impatient grown at every wish denied, "And barely civil, sooth'd and gratified; "Peevish when urg'd to think of vows so strong, "And angry when I spake of crime and wrong. p. 275. We have now alluded, we believe, to what is best and most striking in this poem; and, though we do not mean to quote any part of what we consider as less successful, we must say, that there are large portions of it which appear to us considerably inferior to most of the author's former productions. The letter on the Election, we look on as as a complete failure,—or at least as containing scarcely any thing of what it ought to have contained. The letters on Law and Physic, too, are tedious; and the general heads of Trades, Amusements, and Hospital Government, by no means amusing. The Parish Clerk, too, we find dull, and

without

without effect; and have already given our opinion of Peter Grimes, Abel Keene, and Benbow. We are struck, also, with several omissions in the picture of a maritime borough. Mr Crabbe might have made a great deal of a press-gang; and, at all events, should have given us some wounded veteran sailors, and some voyagers with tales of wonder from foreign lands.

The style of this poem is distinguished, like all Mr Crabbe's other performances, by great force and compression of diction,a sort of sententious brevity, once thought essential to poetical composition, but of which he is now the only living example. But though this is almost an unvarying characteristic of his style, it appears to us that there is great variety, and even some degree of unsteadiness and inconsistency in the tone of his expression and versification. His taste seems scarcely to be sufficiently fixed and settled as to these essential particulars: and, along with a certain quaint, broken, and harsh manner of his own, we think we can trace very frequent imitations of poets of the most opposite character. The following antithetical and half-punning lines of Pope, for instance,

and

Sleepless himself, to give his readers sleep ;'

Whose trifling pleases, and whom trifles please ;'—

have evidently been copied by Mr Crabbe in the following, and many others,

And, in the restless ocean, seek for rest. '

• Denying her who taught thee to deny.'

Scraping they liv'd, but not a scrap they gave."
'Bound for a friend, whom honour could not bind.”

Among the poor, for poor distinctions sigh'd.'

In the same way, the common, nicely balanced line of two members, which is so characteristic of the same author, has obviously been the model of our author in the following

That woe could wish, or vanity devise.'

'Sick without pity, sorrowing without hope.'
Gloom to the night, and pressure to the chain. '

-and a great multitude of others.

On the other hand, he appears to us to be frequently misled by Darwin into a sort of mock-heroic magnificence, upon ordinary occasions. The poet of the Garden, for instance, makes his nymphs

Present the fragrant quintessence of tea. '

And the poet of the Dock-yards makes his carpenters

Spread the warm pungence of o'erboiling tar.'

Mr Crabbe, indeed, does not scruple, on some occasions, to adopt the mock-heroic in good earnest.

the Griffin becomes bankrupt, he says

When the landlord of

Th' insolvent Griffin struck her wings sublime.'

-and introduces a very serious lamentation over the learned poverty of the curate, with this most misplaced piece of buffoonery

Oh! had he learn'd to make the wig he wears!'

One of his letters, too, begins with this wretched quibbleFrom Law to Physic stepping at our ease,

We find a way to finish-by degrees.'

There are many imitations of the peculiar rythm of Goldsmith and Campbell, too, as our readers must have observed in some of our longer specimens ;-but these, though they do not always make a very harmonious combination, are better, at all events, than the tame heaviness and vulgarity of such verses as the fol lowing.

As soon
Could he have thought gold issued from the moon.'
A seaman's body-there 'll be more taught.'
Those who will not to any guide submit,
Nor find one creed to their conceptions fit-
True Independents: while they Calvin hate,
They heed as little what Socinians state. '
p. 54.
Here pits of crag, with spongy, plashy base,

To some enrich th' uncultivated space. &c. &c.

Of the sudden, harsh turns, and broken conciseness which we think peculiar to himself, the reader may take the following specimens-

Has your wife's brother, or your uncle's son,

Done ought amiss; or is he thought t' have done?'
Stopping from post to post he reach'd the hair;
And there he now reposes :-that's the Mayor.'

He has a sort of jagle, too, which we think is of his own invention; for instance,

For forms and feasts that sundry times have past,

And formal feasts that will for ever last. '

• We term it free and casy; and yet we

Find it no easy matter to be free.'

We had more marks to make upon the taste and diction of this author; and had noted several other little blemishes, which we meant to have pointed out for his correction: but we have no longer com for such minute criticism,-from which, indeed, nei

thet

ther the author nor the reader would be likely to derive any great benefit. We take our leave of Mr Crabbe, therefore, by expressing our hopes that, since it is proved that he can write fast, he will not allow his powers to languish for want of exercise; and that we shall soon see him again repaying the public approbation, by entitling himself to a still larger share of it. An author generally knows his own forte so much better than any of his readers, that it is commonly a very foolish kind of presumption to offer any advice as to the direction of his efforts; but we own we have a very strong desire to see Mr Crabbe apply his great powers to the construction of some interesting and connected story. He has great talents for narration; and that unrivalled gift in the delineation of character which is now used only for the creation of detached portraits, might be turned to admirable account in maintaining the interest, and enhancing the probability of an extended train of adventures. At present, it is impossible not to regret, that so much genius should be wasted in making us perfectly acquainted with individuals, of whom we are to know nothing but the characters. In such a poem, however, Mr Crabbe must entirely lay aside the sarcastic and jocose style to which he has rather too great a propensity, but which we know, from what he has done in Sir Eustace Grey, that he can, when he pleases, entirely relinquish. That very powerful and original performance, indeed, the chief fault of which is, to be set too thick with images,-to be too strong and undiluted, in short, for the digestion of common readers, makes us regret that its author should ever have stooped to be trifling and ingenious,-or condescended to tickle the imaginations of his readers, instead of touching the higher passions of

their nature.

ART. III. Geographie de Strabon. Traduite du Grec en Français. Tome Premier. A Parts de l'Imprimerie Impériale. An x. 1805. 4to. pp. 513.

UR attention was first directed to this publication, by the celebrity of the reputed translator; for we had understood, that a version of Strabo had been undertaken by M. Coray, a native of Greece, whose various productions have procured him considerable reputation amongst the scholars of Europe. We find, however, upon inspection, that he is only a joint labourer, in the present work, with M. De la Porte du Theil; though we are disposed to believe, from internal evidence, that he has the principal share in it. Of M. De la Porte du Theil we do not know much, except through the medium of some Memoirs, inserted in the