such verses. Why trouble yourself about the species till you have previously decided

upon the genus? Why take pains to prove that an ape is not a Newton, when it is self-

evident that he is not a man?

One request I must make of my reader, which is, that in judging these Poems he would 31

decide by his own feelings genuinely, and not by reflection upon what will probably be

the judgement of others. How common is it to hear a person say, I myself do not object

to this style of composition, or this or that expression, but, to such and such classes of

people it will appear mean or ludicrous! This mode of criticism, so destructive of all

sound unadulterated judgement, is almost universal: let the Reader then abide,

independently, by his own feelings, and, if he finds himself affected, let him not suffer

such conjectures to interfere with his pleasure.

If an Author, by any single composition, has impressed us with respect for his talents, it 32

is useful to consider this as affording a presumption, that on other occasions where we

have been displeased, he, nevertheless, may not have written ill or absurdly; and further,

to give him so much credit for this one composition as may induce us to review what has

displeased us, with more care than we should otherwise have bestowed upon it. This is

not only an act of justice, but, in our decisions upon poetry especially, may conduce, in a

high degree, to the improvement of our own taste; for an accurate taste in poetry, and in

all the other arts, as Sir Joshua Reynolds has observed, is an acquired talent, which can

only be produced by thought and a long continued intercourse with the best models of

composition. This is mentioned, not with so ridiculous a purpose as to prevent the most

inexperienced Reader from judging for himself (I have already said that I wish him to

judge for himself), but merely to temper the rashness of decision, and to suggest, that, if

Poetry be a subject on which much time has not been bestowed, the judgement may be

erroneous; and that, in many cases, it necessarily will be so.

Nothing would, I know, have so effectually contributed to further the end which I have 33

in view, as to have shown of what kind the pleasure is, and how that pleasure is

produced, which is confessedly produced by metrical composition essentially different

from that which I have here endeavoured to recommend: for the Reader will say that he

has been pleased by such composition; and what more can be done for him? The power

of any art is limited; and he will suspect, that, if it be proposed to furnish him with new

friends, that can be only upon condition of his abandoning his old friends. Besides, as I

have said, the Reader is himself conscious of the pleasure which he has received from

such composition, composition to which he has peculiarly attached the endearing name

of Poetry; and all men feel an habitual gratitude, and something of an honourable

bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them: we not only wish to be

pleased, but to be pleased in that particular way in which we have been accustomed to be

pleased. There is in these feelings enough to resist a host of arguments; and I should be

the less able to combat them successfully, as I am willing to allow, that, in order entirely

to enjoy the Poetry which I am recommending, it would be necessary to give up much of

what is ordinarily enjoyed. But, would my limits have permitted me to point out how this

pleasure is produced, many obstacles might have been removed, and the Reader assisted

in perceiving that the powers of language are not so limited as he may suppose; and that

it is possible for poetry to give other enjoyments, of a purer, more lasting, and more

exquisite nature. This part of the subject has not been altogether neglected, but it has not