What time the sea-birds to the marsh would com Oppressed the soul with misery, grief, and feat.” This is an exact fac-simile of some of the most unlovely para f the creation. Indeed the whole of Mr. Crabbe's Best which the above passage is taken, is done so to the ... seems almost like some sea-monster, crawled out of the ne ing slime, and harbouring a breed of strange vermin, w th local scent of tar and bulge-water, Mr Crabbe's Tales an readable than his Poems; but in proportion as the interest. they become more oppressive. They turn, one and all, same sort of teazing, helpless, mechanical, unimɔgiss_ve tress;-and though it is not easy to lay them d way wish to take them up again. Still in this way, they are finished, striking, and original portraits, worked out with to nature, and an intimate knowledge of the sma:l and :: folds of the human heart. Some of the best are the Cthe story of Silly Shore, the Young Poet, the Painter The em of Phabe Darcson in the Village, is one of the must tetier pensive; and the character of the methodist parson who pers the sailor's widow with his godly, selfish love is one of to profound. In a word, if Mr. Crabbe's writings do not a -i to the store of entertaining and delightful fiction, yet n°7 remain, “as a thorn in the side of poetry," perhaps éve to come! MR. T. MOORE-MR. LEIGH HUNT. "Or winglet of the fairy humming-bird, CAMPBELL. THE lines placed at the head of this sketch, from a contemporary writer, appear to us very descriptive of Mr. Moore's poetry. His verse is like a shower of beauty; a dance of images; a stream of music; or like the spray of the water-fall, tinged by the morningbeam with rosy light. The characteristic distinction of our author's style is this continuous and incessant flow of voluptuous thoughts and shining allusions. He ought to write with a crystal pen on silver paper. His subject is set off by a dazzling veil of poetic diction, like a wreath of flowers gemmed with innumerous dew-drops, that weep, tremble, and glitter in liquid softness and pearly light, while the song of birds ravishes the ear, and languid odours breathe around, and Aurora opens Heaven's smiling portals, Peris and nymphs peep through the golden glades, and an Angel's wing glances over the glossy scene. "No dainty flower or herb that grows on ground, And smelling sweet, but there it might be found No tree, whose branches did not bravely spring; No branch, whereon a fine bird did not sit; No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetly sing; No song, but did contain a lovely dit: Trees, branches, birds, and songs were framed fit Mr. Campbell's imagination is fastidious and select; and bea. though we meet with more exquisite beauties in his wr.: meet with them more rarely there is comparatively a ornament. But Mr. Moore's strictest economy is" w superfluous excess:" he is always liberal, and never at sooner than not stimulate and delight the reader, he is w be tawdry, or superficial, or common-place. His Muse must be fine at any rate, though she should paint, and wear cast-ď rations. Rather than have any lack of excitement, he z himself; and "Eden, and Eblis, and cherub-smiles” Eli 25 pauses of the sentiment with a sickly monotony-It has beva too much our author's object to pander to the art.5na! of the age; and his productions, however briliant and able, are in consequence somewhat meretricious and effe It was thought formerly enough to have an ocas passage in the progress of a story or a poem, and an striking image or expression in a fine passage of dear a But this style, it seems, was to be exploded as raše, meagre, and dry. Now all must be raised to the same tanta and preposterous level. There must be no pause, no interva Simplicity and truth yield up the pe's to repose, no gradation. affectation and grimace. The craving of the public mad ahir novelty and effect is a false and uneasy appetite that pampered with fine words at every step-we must be to 13 sound, startled with show, and relieved by the importanav, z terrupted display of fancy and verbal tinsel as much as pa from the fatigue of thought or shock of feeling Apea resemble an exhibition of fire-works, with a continual exp quaint figures and devices, flash after flash, that surpe se moment, and leave no trace of light or warmth behind the modern poetry in its retrograde progress comes at last to be constructed on the principles of the modern Oriza, where attempt is made to gratify every sense at every instant, and w the understanding alone is insulted and the heart tocked in this view only that we can discover that Mr. Moore's po vitiated or immoral,--it seduces the taste and enervates the nation. It creates a false standard of reference, and inverta decompounds the natural order of association, in which objeca |