d found their way into the parish. To
make matters worse, a former gardener of Crabbe's had set up as a
preacher of the doctrines of this fanatic, who was still attracting
crowds in London. Then, too, as another fruit of the rector's long
absence, strange stories of his political opinions had become current.
Owing, doubtless, to his renewed acquaintance with Dudley North at
Glemham, and occasional association with the Whig leaders at his house,
he had exposed himself to the terrible charge that he was a Jacobin!

Altogether Crabbe's clerical position in Leicestershire, during the next
nine years, could not have been very comfortable. But he was evidently
still, as always, the devout and kindly pastor of his flock, and happily
for himself, he was now to receive new and unexpected tributes to his
popularity in other fields. His younger son, John, now eighteen years of
age, was shortly to go up to Cambridge, and this fresh expense had to be
provided for. To this end, a volume of poems, partly old and partly new,
had been for some time in preparation, and in September 1807, it
appeared from the publishing house of John Hatchard in Piccadilly. In it
were included _The Library_, _The Newspaper_, and _The Village_. The
principal new poem was _The Parish Register_, to which were added _Sir
Eustace Grey_ and _The Hall of Justice_. The volume was prefaced by a
Dedication to Henry Richard Fox, third Lord Holland, nephew and sometime
ward of Charles James Fox, and the reason for such dedication is told at
greater length in the long autobiographical introduction that follows.

Twenty-two years had elapsed since Crabbe's last appearance as an
author, and he seems to have thought it due to his readers to give some
reason for his long abstention from the poet's 'idle trade.' He pleads a
higher 'calling,' that of his professional duties, as sufficient
excuse. Moreover, he offers the same excuse for his 'progress in the art
of versification' being less marked than his readers might otherwise
expect. He then proceeds to tell the story of the kindness he had
received from Burke (who had died in 1797); the introduction by him to
Sir Joshua Reynolds, and through him again to Samuel Johnson. He gives
in full Johnson's note approving _The Village_, and after a further
laborious apology for the shortcomings of his present literary venture,
goes on to tell the one really relevant incident of its appearance.
Crabbe had determined, he says, now th