One day he lighter seem'd, and they forgot The care, the dread, the anguish of their lot; They spoke with cheerfulness, and seem'd to think, Yet said not so" Perhaps he will not sink:" A sudden brightness in his look appear'd,

A sudden vigour in his voice was heard ;-
She had been reading in the Book of Prayer,
And led him forth, and placed him in his chair;
Lively he seem'd, and spoke of all he knew,
The friendly many, and the favourite few;
Nor one that day did he to mind recall

But she has treasured, and she loves them all;
When in her way she meets them, they appear
Peculiar people-death has made them dear.
He named his Friend, but then his hand she press'd,
And fondly whisper'd, "Thou must go to rest;"
"I go," he said; but as he spoke, she found
His hand more cold, and fluttering was the sound!
Then gazed affrighten'd; but she caught a last,
A dying look of love,—and all was past!

She placed a decent stone his grave above,
Neatly engraved-an offering of her love;
For that she wrought, for that forsook her bed,
Awake alike to duty and the dead;

She would have grieved, had friends presumed to

spare

The least assistance -'t was her proper care.

Here will she come, and on the grave will sit, Folding her arms, in long abstracted fit;

But if observer pass, will take her round,

And careless seem, for she would not be found;

Then go again, and thus her hour employ,
While visions please her, and while woes destroy. (1)
Forbear, sweet Maid! nor be by fancy led,
To hold mysterious converse with the dead;
For sure at length thy thoughts, thy spirits pain,
In this sad conflict will disturb thy brain;

All have their tasks and trials; thine are hard,
But short the time, and glorious the reward;
Thy patient spirit to thy duties give,
Regard the dead, but to the living live. (2)

(1) ["Longinus somewhere mentions, that it was a question among the critics of his age, whether the sublime could be produced by tenderness. If this question had not been already determined, this history would have gone far to bring it to a decision."- GIFFORD.

"Mr. Crabbe has been called a gloomy, which must mean, if any accusation is implied in the term, a false moralist. No doubt, to persons who read his poetry superficially, and by snatches and glances, it may seem to give too dark a picture of life; but this, we are convinced, is not the feeling which the study of the whole awakens. Here and there he presents us with images of almost perfect beauty, innocence, and happiness; but as such things are seldom seen, and soon disappear in real life, it seems to be Mr. Crabbe's opinion, that so likewise ought they to start out with sudden and transitory smiles, among the darker, the more solemn, or the gloomy pictures of his poetry. It is certain that there are, in his writings, passages of as pure and profound pathos as in any English poet, that he dwells with as holy a delight as any other on the settled countenance of peace, and that, in his wanderings through the mazes of human destiny, his heart burns within him, when his eyes are, at times, charmed away from the troubles and wickedness of life to its repose and its virtue."- WILSON.]

(2) It has been observed to me, that in the first part of the story, I have represented this young woman as resigned and attentive to her duties ; from which it would appear, that the concluding advice is unnecessary: but, if the reader will construe the expression to the living live,' into the sense-live entirely for them, attend to duties only which are real, and not those imposed by the imagination, — I shall have no reason to alter the line which terminates the story.

VICAR.

The lately departed Minister of the Borough His soothing and supplicatory Manners His cool and timid Affections -No Praise due to such negative Virtue Address to Characters of this Kind-The Vicar's Employments — His Talents and moderate Ambition- His Dislike of Innovation - His mild but ineffectual Benevolence A Summary of his Character.

CURATE.

The Curate has no

Mode of paying the Borough-Minister such Resources - His Learning and Poverty Erroneous Idea of his Parent-His Feelings as a Husband and FatherThe dutiful Regard of his numerous Family- His Pleasure as a Writer, how interrupted-No Resource in the PressVulgar Insult - His Account of a Literary Society, and a Fund for the Relief of indigent Authors, &c.