that of nature in general; and lastly that of abstract qualities."

If the defects here indicated help to explain some of those in his
poetry, they may also throw light on a certain lack of imagination in
Crabbe's dealings with his fellow-men in general and with his
parishioners in particular. His temperament was somewhat tactless and
masterful, and he could never easily place himself at the stand-point of
those who differed from him. The use of his imagination was mainly
confined to the hours in his study; and while there, if he had his
"_beaux moments_," he had also his "_mauvais quarts d'heure_."

Perhaps if he had brought a little imagination to bear upon his
relations with Muston and Allington, Crabbe would not have deserted his
people so soon after coming among them. The stop made him many enemies.
For here was no case of a poor curate accepting, for his family's sake,
a more lucrative post. Crabbe was leaving the Vale of Belvoir because an
accession of fortune had befallen the family, and it was pleasanter to
live in his native county and in a better house. So, at least, his
action was interpreted at the time, and Crabbe's son takes no very
different view. "Though tastes and affections, as well as worldly
interests, prompted this return to native scenes and early
acquaintances, it was a step reluctantly taken, and I believe, sincerely
repented of. The beginning was ominous. As we were slowly quitting the
place preceded by our furniture, a stranger, though one who knew my
father's circumstances, called out in an impressive tone, 'You are
wrong, you are wrong!'" The sound, he afterwards admitted, found an echo
in his own conscience, and during the whole journey seemed to ring in
his ears "like a supernatural voice."

FOOTNOTES: