The Hall of Binning, his delight a boy,
That gave his fancy in her flight employ;
Here, from his father's modest home, he gazed,
Its grandeur charm'd him, and its height amazed:
Work of past ages; and the brick-built place
Where he resided was in much disgrace;
But never in his fancy's proudest dream
Did he the master of that mansion seem:
Young was he then, and little did he know
What years on care and diligence bestow;
Now young no more, retired to views well known,
He finds that object of his awe his own:
The Hall at Binning!-how he loves the gloom
That sun-excluding window gives the room;
Those broad brown stairs on which he loves to
tread;

Those beams within; without, that length of lead,
On which the names of wanton boys appear,
Who died old men, and left memorials here,
Carvings of feet and hands, and knots and flowers,
The fruits of busy minds in idle hours!
Here, while our squire the modern part possess'd,
His partial eye upon the old would rest;
That best his comforts gave-this sooth'd his
feelings best.

Here, day by day, withdrawn from busy life, No child t' awake him, to engage no wife, When friends were absent, not to books inclined, He found a sadness steal upon his mind; Sighing, the works of former lords to see,

"I follow them," he cried, "but who will follow me?"

Some ancient men whom he a boy had known He knew again, their changes were his own; Comparing now he view'd them, and he felt That time with him in lenient mood had dealt: While some the half-distinguish'd features bore That he was doubtful if he saw before,

And some in memory lived whom he must see no

more.

Here George had found, yet scarcely hoped to find,

Companions meet, minds fitted to his mind;
Here, late and loth, the worthy Rector came,
From College dinners and a Fellow's fame;
Yet, here when fix'd, was happy to behold
So near a neighbour in a friend so old:
Boys on one form they parted, now to meet
In equal state, their Worships on one seat.

Here were a Sister-pair, who seem'd to live With more respect than affluence can give ; Although not affluent, they, by nature graced, Had sense and virtue, dignity and taste; Their minds by sorrows, by misfortunes tried, Were vex'd and heal'd, were pain'd and purified.

2 ["Thousands and tens of thousands of sincere and earnest believers in the Gospel of our Lord, and in the general contents of Scripture, seeking its meaning with veneration and prayer, agree, cannot doubt, in essentials, but differ in many points, and in some which unwise and uncharitable persons deem of much importance; nay, think that there is no salvation without them. Look at the good-good, comparatively speak

Hither a sage Physician came, and plann'd, With books his guides, improvements on his land; Nor less to mind than matter would he give His noble thoughts, to know how spirits live, And what is spirit; him his friends advised To think with fear, but caution he despised, And hints of fear provoked him till he dared Beyond himself, nor bold assertion spared, But fiercely spoke, like those who strongly feel, "Priests and their craft, enthusiasts and their zeal."

More yet appear'd, of whom as we proceedAh! yield not yet to languor-you shall read.

But ere the events that from this meeting rose, Be they of pain or pleasure, we disclose, It is of custom, doubtless is of use, That we our heroes first should introduce.

Come, then, fair Truth! and let me clearly see The minds I paint, as they are seen in thee; To me their merits and their faults impart ; Give me to say, "Frail being! such thou art," And closely let me view the naked human heart,

George loved to think; but as he late began To muse on all the grander thoughts of man, He took a solemn and a serious view Of his religion, and he found it true; Firmly, yet meekly, he his mind applied To this great subject, and was satisfied.

He then proceeded, not so much intent, But still in earnest, and to church he went: Although they found some difference in their creed,

He and his pastor cordially agreed;

Convinced that they who would the truth obtain
By disputation, find their efforts vain; 2
The church he view'd as liberal minds will view,
And there he fix'd his principles and pew.

He saw, he thought he saw, how Weakness, Pride,

And Habit, draw seceding crowds aside : Weakness that loves on trifling points to dwell, Pride that at first from Heaven's own worship fell, And habit, going where it went before,

Or to the meeting or the tavern-door.

George loved the cause of freedom, but reproved

All who with wild and boyish ardour loved;
Those who believed they never could be free,
Except when fighting for their liberty;
Who by their very clamour and complaint
Invite coercion or enforce restraint:
He thought a trust so great, so good a cause,
Was only to be kept by guarding laws;

ing-just, pure, pious-the patient and suffering amongst recorded characters;-and were not they of different opinions in many articles of their faith? and can we suppose their Heavenly Father will select from this number a few, a very few; and that for their assent to certain tenets, which causes, independent of any merit of their own, in all probability, led them to embrace ?"-CRABBE's Letters.]

に

For, public blessings firmly to secure,

We must a lessening of the good endure.

The public waters are to none denied

All drink the stream, but only few must guide;
There must be reservoirs to hold supply,

And channels form'd to send the blessing by;
The public good must be a private care,
None all they would may have, but all a share:
So we must freedom with restraint enjoy,
What crowds possess they will, uncheck'd, de-
stroy;

And hence, that freedom may to all be dealt,
Guards must be fix'd, and safety must be felt.
So thought our squire, nor wish'd the guards t'ap-

pear

So strong, that safety might be bought too dear; The Constitution was the ark that he

! Join'd to support with zeal and sanctity, Nor would expose it, as th' accursed son His father's weakness, to be gazed upon.3

I for that Freedom make, said he, my prayer, That suits with all, like atmospheric air; That is to mortal man by heaven assign'd, Who cannot bear a pure and perfect kind: The lighter gas, that, taken in the frame, The spirit heats, and sets the blood in flame; Such is the freedom which when men approve,. They know not what a dangerous thing they love.4

George chose the company of men of sense, But could with wit in moderate share dispense; He wish'd in social ease his friends to meet, When still he thought the female accent sweet; Well from the ancient, better from the young, He loved the lispings of the mother tongue.

He ate and drank, as much as men who think Of life's best pleasures ought to eat or drink; Men purely temperate might have taken less, But still he loved indulgence, not excess; Nor would alone the grants of Fortune taste, But shared the wealth he judged it crime to waste; And thus obtain'd the sure reward of care; For none can spend like him who learns to spare.

Time, thought, and trouble made the man appear

By nature shrewd-sarcastic and severe;
Still he was one whom those who fully knew
Esteem'd and trusted, one correct and true;

3 Genesis, ch. ix. ver. 25.

4 ["With respect to the parties themselves, Whig and Tory, I can but think, two dispassionate, sensible men, who have seen, read, and observed, will approximate in their sentiments more and more; and if they confer together, and argue-not to convince each other, but for pure information, and with a simple desire for the truth-the ultimate difference will be small indeed. The Tory, for instance, would allow that, but for the Revolution in this country, and the noble stand against the arbitrary steps of the house of Stuart, the kingdom would have been in danger of becoming what France once was; and the Whig must also grant that there is at least an equal danger in an unsettled, undefined democracy, the ever-changing laws of a popular government. Every state is, at times, on the inclination to change; either the monarchical or the popular interest will predominate; and in the former case, I conceive, the well-meaning Tory

All on his word with surety might depend, Kind as a man, and faithful as a friend': But him the many know not, knew not cause In their new squire for censure or applause; Ask them, "Who dwelt within that lofty wall ?" And they would say, "The gentleman was tall; "Look'd old when follow'd, but alert when met, "And had some vigour in his movements yet; "He stoops, but not as one infirm; and wears "Dress that becomes his station and his years."

Such was the man who from the world return'd, Nor friend nor foe; he prized it not, nor spurn'd; But came and sat him in his village down, Safe from its smile, and careless of its frown: He, fairly looking into life's account, Saw frowns and favours were of like amount; And viewing all-his perils, prospects, purse, He said, "Content! 't is well it is no worse.'

Through ways more rough had fortune Richard led,

The world he traversed was the book he read;
Hence clashing notions and opinions strange
Lodged in his mind, all liable to change.
By nature generous, open, daring, free,
The vice he hated was hypocrisy ;
Religious notions, in her latter years,
His mother gave, admonish'd by her fears;
To these he added, as he chanced to read
A pious work or learn a Christian creed:
He heard the preacher by the highway side,
The church's teacher and the meeting's guide;
And, mixing all their matters in his brain,
Distill'd a something he could ill explain;
But still it served him for his daily use,
And kept his lively passions from abuse;
For he believed, and held in reverence high,
The truth so dear to man-"not all shall die."5
The minor portions of his creed hung loose,
For time to shapen and a whole produce:
This Love effected, and a favourite maid,
With clearer views, his honest flame repaid;
Hers was the thought correct, the hope sublime,
She shaped his creed, and did the work of time."

6[" Mr. Crabbe remained at Woodbridge from 1770 to 1775; and while here he formed an attachment to Miss Sarah Elmy, the niece of a wealthy yeoman in the neighbouring village of Parham, an amiable and beautiful girl, who returned his affection, and after a lapse of twelve troubled years became his wife. This virtuous attachment appears to have had the strongest and most beneficial influence on his mind and manners, and consequently on his fortunes. It sustained him through miseries such as few young literary adventurers have ever gone through-it purified his feelings-fixed and enlarged his heart-and inspired his first poetry."-Quarterly Review, Jan. 1834.]

And though he fought with all a Briton's zeal,
He felt for France as Freedom's children feel;
Went far with her in what she thought reform,
And hail'd the revolutionary storm;

Yet would not here, where there was least to win,
And most to lose, the doubtful work begin;
But look'd on change with some religious fear,
And cried, with filial dread, "Ah! come not
here."

His friends he did not as the thoughtful choose; Long to deliberate was, he judged, to lose : Frankly he join'd the free, nor suffer'd pride Or doubt to part them whom their fate allied; Men with such minds at once each other aid, "Frankness," they cry, "with frankness is repaid;

"If honest, why suspect? if poor, of what afraid? "Wealth's timid votaries may with caution move; "Be it our wisdom to confide and love."

So pleasures came, not purchased first or plann'd,

But the chance pleasures that the poor command;
They came but seldom, they remain'd not long,
Nor gave him time to question " Are they wrong?"
These he enjoy'd, and left to after time
To judge the folly or decide the crime;
Sure had he been, he had perhaps been pure
From this reproach-but Richard was not sure;
Yet from the sordid vice, the mean, the base,
He stood aloof-death frown'd not like disgrace.

With handsome figure, and with manly air, He pleased the sex, who all to him were fair; With filial love he look'd on forms decay'd, And Admiration's debt to Beauty paid; On sea or land, wherever Richard went, He felt affection, and he found content; There was in him a strong presiding hope In Fortune's tempests, and it bore him up: But when that mystic vine his mansion graced, When numerous branches round his board were

placed,

When sighs of apprehensive love were heard,
Then first the spirit of the hero fear'd;
Then he reflected on the father's part,
And all a husband's sorrow touch'd his heart;
Then thought he, "Who will their assistance
lend,

"And be the children's guide, the parent's friend?
"Who shall their guardian, their protector be?
"I have a brother-Well!-and so has he."

And now they met: a message-kind, 't is true, But verbal only-ask'd an interview; And many a mile, perplex'd by doubt and fear, Had Richard pass'd, unwilling to appear: "How shall I now my unknown way explore"He proud and rich-I very proud and poor?

7 ["The characters of the two brothers are admirably delineated; the elder being a grave, and somewhat formal bachelor, with most of the peculiarities of that class of men-but sensitive, affectionate, and thoughtful; the younger a generous seaman, who, having long buffeted with fortune, and learned many fine virtues in the school of adversity, had rather improvidentially but happily married, and had visited his rich brother with many misgivings of mind and doubts of

"How stands the case? My brother's friend and mine

"Met at an inn and sat them down to dine: "When, having settled all their own affairs, "And kindly canvass'd such as were not theirs, "Just as my friend was going to retire, "Stay!-you will see the brother of our squire,' "Said his companion: 'be his friend, and tell "The captain that his brother loves him well, "And, when he has no better thing in view, "Will be rejoiced to see him-Now, adieu!'

"Well! here I am; and, Brother, take you heed, "I am not come to flatter you and feed; "You shall no soother, fawner, hearer find, "I will not brush your coat, nor smooth your mind;

"I will not hear your tales the whole day long, "Nor swear you 're right if I believe you wrong: "Nor be a witness of the facts you state, "Nor as my own adopt your love or hate: "I will not earn my dinner when I dine

By taking all your sentiments for mine; "Nor watch the guiding motions of your eye "Before I venture question or reply; "Nor when you speak affect an awe profound, "Sinking my voice as if I fear'd the sound; "Nor to your looks obediently attend, "The poor, the humble, the dependent friend: "Yet son of that dear mother could I meet"But lo! the mansion-'t is a fine old seat!"

The Brothers met, with both too much at heart To be observant of each other's part; "Brother, I'm glad," was all that George could

say,

Then stretch'd his hand, and turn'd his head

away;

For he in tender tears had no delight,

But scorn'd the thought and ridiculed the sight; Yet now with pleasure, though with some surprise, He felt his heart o'erflowing at his eyes.

Richard, meantime, made some attempts to speak,

Strong in his purpose, in his trial weak:
We cannot nature by our wishes rule,
Nor at our will her warm emotions cool:-
At length affection, like a risen tide,
Stood still, and then seem'd slowly to subside;
Each on the other's looks had power to dwell,
And Brother Brother greeted passing well.

brotherly reception. There is great tenderness and beauty in all that relates to the affection of these brothers, and the contrast of their characters is throughout admirably sustained. All they have to tell of each other is new, and, consequently, all their relations are given with earnestness and vivacity. Mr. Crabbe lets us in at once to their characters; and, loving the men, we listen with the eager attention of friends to the varied story of their lives."-WILSON.]

BOOK II.

"No college train'd him, guideless through his life, "Without a friend-not so! he has a wife. "Ah! had I married, I might now have seen

AT length the Brothers met, no longer tried
By those strong feelings that in time subside;
Not fluent yet their language, but the eye
And action spoke both question and reply;
Till the heart rested and could calmly feel,
Till the shook compass felt the settling steel;
Till playful smiles on graver converse broke,
And either speaker less abruptly spoke:
Still was there ofttimes silence, silence bless'd,
Expressive, thoughtful-their emotions' rest;
Pauses that came not from a want of thought,
But want of ease, by wearied passion sought;
For souls, when hurried by such powerful force,
Rest, and retrace the pleasure of the course.
They differ'd much, yet might observers trace
Likeness of features both in mind and face;
Pride they possess'd, that neither strove to hide,
But not offensive, not obtrusive pride:
Unlike had been their life, unlike the fruits,
Of different tempers, studies, and pursuits;
Nay, in such varying scenes the men had moved,
'T was passing strange that aught alike they loved :
But all distinction now was thrown apart,
While these strong feelings ruled in either heart.

3

2

As various colours in a painted ball While it has rest are seen distinctly all; Till, whirl'd around by some exterior force, They all are blended in the rapid course: So in repose, and not by passion sway'd, We saw the difference by their habits made; But, tried by strong emotions, they became Fill'd with one love, and were in heart the same; Joy to the face its own expression sent, And gave a likeness in the looks it lent. All now was sober certainty; the joy That no strong passions swell till they destroy: For they, like wine, our pleasures raise so high, That they subdue our strength, and then they die. George in his brother felt a growing pride, He wonder'd who that fertile mind supplied"Where could the wanderer gather on his road "Knowledge so various? how the mind this food?

1 ["Come then, expressive Silence muse His praise."-THOMSON.]

2 [Original MS. :

Yet with this difference might observers find
Some kindred powers and features of the mind.
A love of honour in both spirits ruled,
But here by temper, there by trouble cool'd;
Their favourite objects, studies, themes, pursuits,
Had various beauties, merits, ends, and fruits.]

3 ["Crabbe's similes are almost all elaborate and ingenious; and rather seem to be furnished from the effects of a

Ease leads to habit, as success to ease, He lives by rule who lives himself to please; For change is trouble, and a man of wealth Consults his quiet as he guards his health; And habit now on George had sovereign power, His actions all had their accustom'd hour: At the fix'd time he slept, he walk'd, he read, Or sought his grounds, his gruel, and his bed; For every season he with caution dress'd, And morn and eve had the appropriate vest; He talk'd of early mists, and night's cold air, And in one spot was fix'd his worship's chair. But not a custom yet on Richard's mind Had force, or him to certain modes confined; To him no joy such frequent visits paid, That habit by its beaten track was made: " He was not one who at his ease could say, "We'll live to-morrow as we lived to-day;" But he and his were as the ravens fed, As the day came it brought the daily bread.

"Yet love not books beyond their proper worth, "But, when they fit you for the world, go forth: "They are like beauties, and may blessings prove, "When we with caution study them, or love; "But when to either we our souls devote, "We grow unfitted for that world, and dote."

George to a school of higher class was sent, But he was ever grieving that he went: A still, retiring, musing, dreaming boy, He relish'd not their sudden bursts of joy, Nor the tumultuous pleasures of a rude, A noisy, careless, fearless multitude: He had his own delights, as one who flies From every pleasure that a crowd supplies: Thrice he return'd, but then was weary grown, And was indulged with studies of his own. Still could the Rector and his Friend relate The small adventures of that distant date; And Richard listen'd as they spake of time Pass'd in that world of misery and crime.

Freed from his school, a priest of gentle kind The uncle found to guide the nephew's mind; Pleased with his teacher, George so long remain'd, The mind was weaken'd by the store it gain'd.

His guardian uncle, then on foreign ground, No time to think of his improvements found; Nor had the nephew, now to manhood grown, Talents or taste for trade or commerce shown, But shunn'd a world of which he little knew, Nor of that little did he like the view.

His mother chose, nor I the choice upbraid,
An Irish soldier of a house decay'd,
And passing poor, but precious in her eyes
As she in his; they both obtain'd a prize.
To do the captain justice, she might share
What of her jointure his affairs could spare:
Irish he was in his profusion-true,
But he was Irish in affection too;

And though he spent her wealth and made her grieve,

He always said "My dear," and "With your leave."
Him she survived: she saw his boy possess'd
Of manly spirit, and then sank to rest.

5 [The following is from a letter by one of the Poet's family: "In the idea of one brother relating to another various particulars of his neighbours, I can recall the pleasure and interest which my father himself evidently felt, in our visits to Aldborough, as his sister related to him the proceedings of those whom he had known in his youth-when, after a delightful day of fuci hunting, we all met over a light supper of delicate fish, then planned some amusement for the morrow, and then sank to sleep, within two hundred yards of the breakers, soothed by the deep, hollow roar,

And his boy folly, or his manly pride,
Made him on measures cool and harsh decide:
So, when they met, a distant cold salute
Was of a long-expected day the fruit;
The rest by proxies managed, each withdrew,
Vex'd by the business and the brother too:
But now they met when time had calm'd the
mind,

Both wish'd for kindness, and it made them kind:
George had no wife or child, and was disposed
To love the man on whom his hope reposed:
Richard had both; and those so well beloved,
Husband and father were to kindness moved;
And thus th' affections, check'd, subdued, re-
strain'd,

Rose in their force, and in their fulness reign'd.

The bell now bids to dine: the friendly priest, Social and shrewd, the day's delight increased: Brief and abrupt their speeches while they dined, Nor were their themes of intellectual kind; Nor, dinner past, did they to these advance, But left the subjects they discuss'd to chance.

Richard, whose boyhood in the place was spent, Profound attention to the speakers lent, Who spake of men; and, as he heard a name, Actors and actions to his memory came; 5 Then, too, the scenes he could distinctly trace— Here he had fought, and there had gain'd a race; In that church-walk he had affrighted been, In that old tower he had a something seen; What time, dismiss'd from school, he upward cast A fearful look, and trembled as he pass'd.

No private tutor Richard's parents sought, Made keen by hardship, and by trouble taught: They might have sent him-some the counsel gave

Seven gloomy winters of the North to brave, Where a few pounds would pay for board and bed, While the poor frozen boy was taught and fed; When, say he lives, fair, freckled, lank, and lean, The lad returns shrewd, subtle, close, and keen; With all the northern virtues, and the rules Taught to the thrifty in these thriving schools: There had he gone, and borne this trying part, But Richard's mother had a mother's heart.

Now squire and rector were return'd to school, And spoke of him who there had sovereign rule: He was, it seem'd, a tyrant of the sort Who make the cries of tortured boys his sport; One of a race, if not extinguish'd, tamedThe flogger now is of the act ashamed; But this great mind all mercy's calls withstood, This Holofernes was a man of blood.

now loud and near, then rolling along the shore like distant thunder."]

6 [See Love's Labour's Lost, act iv. sc. 2. Dr. Warburton says, "that by Holofernes was designed a particular character, a pedant and a schoolmaster, in Shakspeare's time, one John Florio, a teacher of the Italian language." In 1578 Florio published First Fruits, which yielde familiar speech, merrie proverbes, wittie sentences, and golden sayings:' he also translated Montaigne's Essays. He died in 1625.]