¢ 
1805.] 
fhewn his poetry to fome gentlemen in 
London, but, from a fatality which fre- 
’ quently attends the want of recommenda- 
tion, they palt a verdict not very much i i 
his favour, which caft a gloomy defpon-: 
dence,over the mind of our poet. He fays, 
‘« The path is abfolutely barren ; but, as a 
heatly is fometimes fcented with the aroma 
of wild thyme, fo, for my own amufement 
only, I can fometimes pick up a flower or 
“two, though fome of them are but wild- 
rofes. I fay, for my-own amufement, but 
that is entirely founded on the amufement 
of others; for I could not ‘be much 
~amufed with any thing of my own, which 
. 1 knew would excite a naufea in the break 
the queftion, 
of men of realtafle. My fir attempts, 
ten years ago, were truly defpicable ; and 
what elfe could be expested of one who, 
though always reading, had never read 
five books which. deferved it, who never 
learned a word of grammar at f{choo!, and 
very littl fince; in faét, I was aamere 
babe in learning till twenty-four or twen- 
ty-five ; and, even now, all the litle I 
know in critical literature is derived from 
magazinesand reviews [was not aware, 
before your application, that any perfons 
-exided in Becfordfhire who would in- 
tercit themielves in my lucubrations, and 
‘Twas naturally unwilling that every cu- 
rious inquirer fhould know I had attemp:- 
ed poetry, and failed, which, I am very 
fure, is in a great meafure thecafe. But 
here I drop apologies. It is not what I 
might have whitten under the’ fhade of 
academic bowers, but what is done, is all 
The poem intitled Village 
Scenes, obtained, fome years ago, the 
approbation of Mr. Lofft, and fome 
others ; but fome gentlemen, who ought 
to he judges, have, I cenfefs, been rather 
coldin the bufinefs. This variety of opi- 
nion among the learned, leaves me without 
any kind of doubt that much caprice and 
> whim are not common among the literati.” 
The diverfity cf opinion which has 
been occafionally exprefled by critics on 
“the fame works, is owing to a multiplicity 
of caufes, 
They take their rife from the 
different paflions which- govern the human 
breaft, and which dire& our opinion, ac- 
cording to the fympathy we feel for the 
Sentiments exprefied in the writings we 
perufe.—‘ One perfon (fays Hume) is 
more pleafed with the fublime, another 
with the tender, a third with raillery ; 
one has a ftrong fenfibility to blemithes, 
and is extremely ftudious of correctneds ; 
another has a more lively feeling of beau- 
ties; and pardons twenty abfurdities and 
@ctets fer one elevated and pathetic 
Account of Mi. Batchelor, by Dr. Yeats, : 
S219 
frroke.. Simplicity is affeted by. one, 
ornament by another. It is plainly an 
error in a critic to confine his approba- 
tion to one fpecies of writing, and con- 
demn ali the reft. Bat it is almo% impot- 
fible mot to feela predile&tion for. that 
which fuits our particular turn and dif. 
pofition, Such preferences are innocent 
and unavoidable, and can never reafonably 
be the object of difpute, becaufe there is 
no‘ftandard by which they can be decid- 
ed.”-—Effays, vol. i. p. 221. 
But there is fometimes a faftidious 
nicety in regarding a work with frigid 
indifference, more characteriftic of letter- 
ed pride than of correét tafe ; anc a fpe- 
cies of intellectual cowardice is frequently 
-obiervable in private criticifins, before the 
public voice has awarded its verdict for or 
againt the merits of an author. \ Hence, 
probably, the reafon why the charming 
poem of the Farmer’s Boy was at firlt 
received with neglect ; and allo, from the 
fame fource, the poetic ardour;of Mr. 
Batchelor was damped by thefe to whom 
his poems had been originally fhewn, 
I now proceed, Mr. Editor, to: give 
you a kind of biography of our poet, 
from the earlieft part of his life to the 
"period of his appearing before the peblic. 
IT fhall do it wearly in his own words, 
- from a letter I have received 5; by which 
it will appear how sreat and manifold were 
the obfiacles and difficulties he had to en- 
counter in traverfing the thorny path to 
the temple of poetic fame.—‘* During 
the time paffed at a {chool at Ampthil', 
which was, I believe, between the age of 
ten and thirteen, fables in {pelling- books 
were the only parts which I could. read 
with delight ; and Robinfon Crufoe, for 
many years, pleafed me more than all the 
dull realities of life. After coming from 
{chool, Quarles’s Emblems was my fa- 
vourite ; and this, with Watts’s Hymns, 
contributed, perhaps, to give me a tafe 
for the jingle of rhyme, as fome are 
pleafed to term it. About the age of 
fourteen I became acquainted with Para- 
dife Loft, and Young’s Night Thoughts, 
and Fenoing’s DiGionary. Frem this 
latter was derived nearly all my know- 
ledge of words. Here alfo I found the 
Lives of fome of the poets.: In the year 
1792 I removed to Lidlington. As my 
practice was to read every book that came 
in my way, containing any. thing new, I 
obtained, as you will eafily guefs, fuch a 
{mattering in almoft every art, &c. as 
proves, in many inftances, when the wan- 
derer has reached the end of his chain to- 
wards every ‘point of the compafs, that, 
Qz when 
