PREFACE.

About twenty-five years since, was published a Poem called The Library; which, in no long time, was followed by two others, The Village, and The Newspaper: These, with a few alterations and additions, are here reprinted; and are accompanied by a Poem of greater length, and several shorter attempts, now, for the first time, before the Public; whose reception of them creates in their Author, something more than common solicitude, because he conceives that, with the judgement to be formed of these latter productions, upon whatever may be found intrinsically meritorious or defective, there will be united an enquiry into the relative degree of praise or blame, which they may be thought to deserve, when compared with the more early attempts of the same Writer.

And certainly, were it the principal employment of a man’s life, to compose Verses, it might seem reasonable to expect, that he would continue to improve as long as he continued to live; though, even then, there is some doubt whether such improvement would follow, and perhaps proof might be adduced to shew, it would not: but when to this “idle trade,” is added some “calling,” with superior claims upon his time and attention, his progress in the art of Versification will probably be in proportion neither to the years he has lived, nor even to the attempts he has made.

While composing the first-published of these Poems, the Author was honoured with the notice and assisted by the advice of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke: Part of it was written in his presence, and the whole submitted to his judgement; receiving, in its progress, the benefit of his correction: I hope therefore to obtain pardon of the reader, if I eagerly seize the occasion, and, after so long a silence, endeavour to express a grateful sense of the benefits I have received from this Gentleman, who was solicitous for my more essential interests, as well as benevolently anxious for my credit as a writer.

I will not enter upon the subject of his extraordinary abilities; it would be vanity, it would be weakness in me to believe that I could make them better known or more admired than they now are; but of his private worth, of his wishes to do good, of his affability and condescension; his readiness to lend assistance when he knew it was wanted, and his delight to give praise where he thought it was deserved; of these I may write with some propriety: all know that his powers were vast, his acquirements various, and I take leave to add, that he applied them, with unremitted attention, to those objects which he believed tended to the honour and welfare of his country; but it may not be so generally understood that he was ever assiduous in the more private duties of a benevolent nature, that he delighted to give encouragement to any promise of ability and assistance to any appearance of desert; to what purposes he employed his pen, and with what eloquence he spake in the senate, will be told by many, who yet may be ignorant of the solid instruction as well as the fascinating pleasantry found in his common conversation, among his friends, and his affectionate manners, amiable disposition, and zeal for their happiness, which he manifested in the hours of retirement with his family.

To this Gentleman I was indebted for my knowledge of Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was as well known to his friends, for his perpetual fund of good-humour, and his unceasing wishes to oblige, as he was to the public, for the extraordinary productions of his pencil and his pen: By him I was favoured with an introduction to Doctor Johnson, who honoured me with his notice and assisted me, as Mr. Boswell has told, with Remarks and Emendations for a Poem I was about to publish[1]: The Doctor had been often wearied by applications, and did not readily comply with requests, for his opinion; not from any unwillingness to oblige, but from a painful contention in his mind, between a desire of giving pleasure and a determination to speak truth. No man can, I think, publish a work without some expectation of satisfying those who are to judge of its merit: but I can, with the utmost regard to veracity, speak my fears, as predominating over every pre-indulged thought of a more favourable nature, when I was told that a judge so discerning, had consented to read and give his opinion of the Village, the poem I had prepared for publication. The time of suspence was not long protracted; I was soon favoured with a few words from Sir Joshua, who observed,—‘If I knew how cautious Doctor Johnson was in giving commendation, I should be well satisfied with the portion dealt to me in his letter.’—Of that letter the following is a copy:

That I was fully satisfied, my readers will do me the justice to believe; and I hope they will pardon me, if there should appear to them any impropriety in publishing the favourable opinion expressed in a private letter; they will judge, and truly, that by so doing I wish to bespeak their good opinion, but have no design of extorting their applause: I would not hazard an appearance so ostentatious, to gratify my vanity, but, I venture to do it, in compliance with my fears.

After these was published the Newspaper: it had not the advantage of such previous criticism from my friends, nor perhaps so much of my own attention as I ought to have given to it; but the impression was disposed of, and I will not pay so little respect to the judgement of my readers, as now to suppress, what they then approved.

Since the publication of this Poem, more than twenty years have elapsed, and I am not without apprehension, lest so long a silence should be construed into a blameable neglect of my own interest which those excellent friends were desirous of promoting; or what is yet worse, into a want of gratitude for their assistance; since it becomes me to suppose, they considered these first attempts as promises of better things, and their favours as stimulants to future exertion; and here, be the construction put upon my apparent negligence what it may, let me not suppress my testimony to the liberality of those who are looked up to, as patrons and encouragers of literary merit, or indeed of merit of any kind: their patronage has never been refused, I conceive, when it has been reasonably expected or modestly required, and it would be difficult, probably, to instance, in these times and in this country, any one who merited or was supposed to merit assistance, but who nevertheless languished in obscurity or necessity for want of it; unless in those cases, where it was prevented by the resolution of impatient pride, or wearied by the solicitations of determined profligacy.—And while the subject is before me, I am unwilling to pass silently over the debt of gratitude which I owe to the memory of two deceased noblemen, His Grace the late Duke of Rutland, and The Right Honourable the Lord Thurlow: sensible of the honour done me by their notice and the benefits received from them, I trust this acknowledgement will be imputed to its only motive, a grateful sense of their favours.

Upon this subject I could dwell with much pleasure; but to give a reason for that appearance of neglect, as it is more difficult, so happily it is less required: In truth I have, for many years, intended a republication of these Poems, as soon as I should be able to join with them, such other of later date, as might not deprive me of the little credit, the former had obtained. Long indeed has this purpose been procrastinated: and if the duties of a profession, not before pressing upon me; if the claims of a situation, at that time untried; if diffidence of my own judgement, and the loss of my earliest friends, will not sufficiently account for my delay, I must rely upon the good-nature of my reader, that he will let them avail as far as he can, and find an additional apology in my fears of his censure.

These fears being so prevalent with me, I determined not to publish any thing more, unless I could first obtain the sanction of such opinion, as I might with some confidence rely upon: I looked for a friend who, having the discerning taste of Mr. Burke, and the critical sagacity of Doctor Johnson, would bestow upon my MS. the attention requisite to form his opinion, and would then favour me with the result of his observations: and it was my singular good fortune to gain such assistance; the opinion of a critic so qualified, and a friend so disposed to favour me. I had been honoured by an introduction to the Right Honourable Charles-James Fox, some years before, at the seat of Mr. Burke; and being again with him, I received a promise that he would peruse any work I might send to him previous to its publication, and would give me his opinion. At that time, I did not think myself sufficiently prepared; and when, afterwards, I had collected some Poems for his inspection, I found my Right Honourable Friend engaged by the affairs of a great empire, and struggling with the inveteracy of a fatal disease: at such time, upon such mind, ever disposed to oblige as that mind was, I could not obtrude the petty business of criticizing verses: but he remembered the promise he had kindly given, and repeated an offer, which though I had not presumed to expect, I was happy to receive. A copy of the Poems, now first published, was immediately sent to him, and (as I have the information from Lord Holland, and his Lordship’s permission to inform my Readers) the Poem which I have named The Parish Register, was heard by Mr. Fox, and it excited interest enough, by some of its parts, to gain for me the benefit of his judgement upon the whole: Whatever he approved, the Reader will readily believe, I have carefully retained; the parts he disliked are totally expunged, and others are substituted, which I hope resemble those, more conformable to the taste of so admirable a judge; nor can I deny myself the melancholy satisfaction of adding that this Poem, (and more especially the story of Phœbe Dawson[3], with some parts of the second book) were the last compositions of their kind, that engaged and amused the capacious, the candid, the benevolent mind of this great Man.

The above information I owe to the favour of The Right Honourable Lord Holland; nor this only, but to his Lordship I am indebted for some excellent remarks upon other parts of my MS. It was not indeed my good fortune then to know that my verses were in the hands of a Nobleman who had given proof of his accurate judgement as a critic, and his elegance as a writer, by favouring the public with an easy and spirited translation of some interesting scenes of a dramatic poet, not often read in this kingdom: The Life of Lope de Vega was then unknown to me; I had, in common with many English readers, heard of him, but could not judge whether his far-extended reputation was caused by the sublime efforts of a mighty genius, or the unequalled facility of a rapid composer, aided by peculiar and fortunate circumstances.—That any part of my MS. was honoured by the remarks of Lord Holland, yields me an high degree of satisfaction, and his Lordship will perceive the use I have made of them, but I must feel some regret when I know to what small portion they were limited; and discerning as I do, the taste and judgement bestowed upon the verses of Lope de Vega, I must perceive how much my own needed the assistance afforded to one, who cannot be sensible of the benefit he has received.

But how much soever I may lament the advantages lost, let me remember with gratitude the helps I have obtained: With a single exception, every poem in the ensuing collection has been submitted to the critical sagacity of a gentleman, upon whose skill and candour their Author could rely: to publish by advice of friends, has been severely ridiculed, and that too by a poet, who probably without such advice, never made public any verses of his own; in fact, it may not be easily determined who acts with less discretion, the writer who is encouraged to publish his works, merely by the advice of friends whom he consulted, or he who against advice publishes from the sole encouragement of his own opinion: these are deceptions to be carefully avoided, and I was happy to escape the latter, by the friendly attentions of the Reverend Richard Turner, Minister of Great Yarmouth. To this gentleman I am indebted, more than I am able to describe, or than he is willing to allow, for the time he has bestowed upon the attempts I have made. He is indeed, the kind of critic for whom every poet should devoutly wish, and the friend whom every man would be happy to acquire; he has taste to discern all that is meritorious, and sagacity to detect whatsoever should be discarded; he gives just the opinion an author’s wisdom should covet, however his vanity might prompt him to reject it; what altogether to expunge and what to improve he has repeatedly taught me, and, could I have obeyed him in the latter direction as I invariably have in the former, the public would have found this collection more worthy its attention, and I should have sought the opinion of the critic more void of apprehension.

But whatever I may hope or fear, whatever assistance I have had or have needed, it becomes me to leave my verses to the judgement of the reader, without my endeavour to point out their merit or an apology for their defects: yet as, among the poetical attempts of one who has been for many years a priest, it may seem a want of respect for the legitimate objects of his study, that nothing occurs, unless it be incidentally, of the great subjects of Religion; so it may appear a kind of ingratitude in a beneficed clergyman, that he has not employed his talent (be it estimated as it may) to some patriotic purpose; as in celebrating the unsubdued spirit of his countrymen in their glorious resistance of those enemies, who would have no peace throughout the world, except that which is dictated to the drooping spirit of suffering humanity by the triumphant insolence of military success.

Credit will be given to me I hope, when I affirm that subjects so interesting have the due weight with me, which the sacred nature of the one and the national importance of the other must impress upon every mind, not seduced into carelessness for religion, by the lethargic influence of a perverted philosophy, nor into indifference for the cause of our country, by hyperbolical or hypocritical professions of universal philanthropy; but after many efforts to satisfy myself by various trials on these subjects, I declined all further attempt, from a conviction that I should not be able to give satisfaction to my readers: poetry of religious nature must indeed ever be clogged with almost insuperable difficulty: but there are doubtless to be found, poets who are well qualified to celebrate the unanimous and heroic spirit of our countrymen, and to describe in appropriate colours some of those extraordinary scenes, which have been and are shifting in the face of Europe, with such dreadful celerity; and to such I relinquish the duty.

It remains for me to give the reader, a brief view of those articles in the following collection, which for the first time solicit his attention.

In the Parish-Register, he will find an endeavour once more to describe Village-Manners, not by adopting the notion of pastoral simplicity or assuming ideas of rustic barbarity, but by more natural views of the peasantry, considered as a mixed body of persons sober or profligate, and from hence, in a great measure, contented or miserable. To this more general description are added, the various characters which occur in the three parts of a Register; Baptisms, Marriages, and Burials.

If the Birth of Flattery offer no moral, as an appendage to the fable, it is hoped, that nothing of an immoral, nothing of improper tendency will be imputed to a piece of poetical playfulness; in fact, genuine praise, like all other species of truth, is known by its bearing full investigation: it is what the giver is happy that he can justly bestow, and the receiver conscious that he may boldly accept; but adulation must ever be afraid of enquiry, and must, in proportion to their degrees of moral sensibility,

The verses in p. 211, want a title, nor does the motto, although it gave occasion to them, altogether express the sense of the writer, who meant to observe that some of our best acquisitions, and some of our nobler conquests are rendered ineffectual, by the passing away of opportunity and the changes made by time; an argument that such acquirements and moral habits are reserved for a state of being, in which they may have the uses here denied them.

In the story of Sir Eustace Grey, an attempt is made to describe the wanderings of a mind first irritated by the consequences of error and misfortune, and afterwards soothed by a species of enthusiastic conversion, still keeping him insane: a task very difficult, and if the presumption of the attempt may find pardon, it will not be refused to the failure of the poet. It is said of our Shakespeare, respecting madness:

yet be it granted to one, who dares not to pass the boundary fixed for common minds, at least to step near to the tremendous verge and form some idea of the terrors that are stalking in the interdicted space.

“When first I had written Aaron, or The Gipsey; I had no unfavourable opinion of it; and had I been collecting my verses at that time for publication, I should certainly have included this tale. Nine years have since elapsed, and I continue to judge the same of it, thus literally obeying one of the directions given by the prudence of criticism to the eagerness of the poet: but how far I may have conformed to rules of more importance, must be left to the less partial judgement of the readers.

The concluding poem, intitled Woman!, was written at the time when the quotation from Mr. Ledyard was first made public; the expression has since become hackneyed; but the sentiment is congenial with our feelings, and though somewhat amplified in these verses, it is hoped they are not so far extended as to become tedious.

After this brief account of his subjects, the Author leaves them to their fate, not presuming to make any remarks upon the kinds of versification he has chosen, or the merit of the execution; he has indeed brought forward the favourable opinion of his friends, and for that he earnestly hopes his motives will be rightly understood; it was a step of which he felt the advantage while he foresaw the danger; he was aware of the benefit, if his readers would consider him as one who puts on a defensive armour against hasty and determined severity; but he feels also the hazard, lest they should suppose be looks upon himself to be guarded by his friends and so secure in the defence, that he may defy the fair judgement of legal criticism: it will probably be said, ‘he has brought with him his testimonials to the bar of the public;’ and he must admit the truth of the remark: but he begs leave to observe in reply, that, of those who bear testimonials of any kind, the greater numbers feel apprehension, and not security; they are indeed so far from the enjoyment of victory or the exultation of triumph, that, with all they can do for themselves, with all their friends have done for them, they are, like him, in dread of examination and in fear of disappointment.

Muston, Leicestershire,
September 1807.

ADVERTISEMENT

TO

THE READER.

In this Edition of his Poems, the Author has endeavoured to avail himself of such Remarks as have been communicated to him since the publication of his Work; and so far as the time allowed, he has sought to make the Improvements suggested: he is nevertheless conscious that much remains to be done, and must intreat the Indulgence of his Readers, if they still perceive many Places to which he ought to have directed his Attention; some which required Retrenchment; and not a few, which (with advantage to the Book) might have been altogether expunged.