The subsequent explanation, how the poet had purposely intertwined the various handkerchiefs which rescued Pat Jennings's hat from the pit, lest the real owner should be detected, and the reason for it, is a not less exquisite piece of fooling:--"For, in the statistical view of life and manners which I occasionally present, my clerical profession has taught me how extremely improper it would be by any allusion, however slight, to give any uneasiness, however trivial, to any individual, however foolish or wicked." It might perhaps be inferred from such effusions as are here parodied that Crabbe was lacking in a sense of humour.

This would certainly be too sweeping an inference, for in many of his sketches of human character he gives unmistakable proof to the contrary.
But the talent in question--often so recklessly awarded or denied to us by our fellow-creatures--is very variable in the spheres of its operation.

The sense of humour is in its essence, as we have often been told, largely a sense of proportion, and in this sense Crabbe was certainly deficient.

The want of it accounts for much more in his writings than for his prose notes and prefaces.

It explains much of the diffuseness and formlessness of his poetry, and his inability to grasp the great truth how much the half may be greater than the whole.
In spite, however, of these defects, and of the inequalities of the workmanship, _The Borough_ was from the first a success.