PREFACE.

[TO POEMS PUBLISHED IN 1807.]

ABOUT twenty-five years since was published a poem called "The Library;" wnich, 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 judgment 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 im

prove as long as he continued to live; though, even then, there is some doubt whether such improvement would follow; and, perhaps, proofs might be adduced to show it would not but when, to this "idle trade," is added some calling (1)," 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 (2), 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 judgment; 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 ;

(1)

["I left no calling for this idle trade,

No duty broke, no father disobey'd."- POPE.]

(2) "The Library."]

but of his private worth (1), 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 (2), and assistance to any appearance of

(1) [Mrs. Montagu, who had the good fortune to know, and the good taste to admire, Mr. Burke in the very early part of his life, thus speaks of him in one of her letters: "I shall send you a Treatise on the Sublime and Beautiful,' by Mr. Burke, a friend of mine. I think you will find him an elegant and ingenious writer. He is far from the pert pedantry and assuming ignorance of modern witlings, but in conversation and in writing an ingenious and ingenuous man, modest and delicate, and on great and serious subjects full of that respect and veneration which a good mind and a great one is sure to feel, while fools rush behind the altar at which wise men kneel and pay mysterious reverence."]

(2) [While in Dublin, in 1763, Burke's attention was called to a friendless young adventurer, who had just arrived from Cork, to exhibit a picture. This was Barry, the celebrated painter. Burke saw him frequently; examined and praised his picture; enquired into his views and future prospects; offered him a passage to England; received him, as he afterwards did Crabbe, at his house in town; introduced him to the principal artists; and procured employment for him to copy pictures under Athenian Stuart, till a change in his own circumstances enabled him to do still more. By his advice Barry went to Italy for improvement in his art, and while there the painter was chiefly supported by his munificence. Barry, like Crabbe, acknowledged the weight of his obligations. "I am your property," he wrote to Burke; "you ought surely to be free with a man of your own making, who has found in you, father, brother, friend, every thing." See PRIOR's Life of Burke, and CUNNINGHAM's British Painters.]

desert (1): 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 (2), amongst his friends; and his affectionate manners, amiable disposition (3), and zeal for their happiness,

(1) [Having already brought forward a painter and a poet of celebrity, he endeavoured to do the same by a sculptor. Writing to Lord Charlemont, in 1782, he says, - "I find that Ireland, among other marks of her just gratitude to Mr. Grattan, intends to erect a monument to his honour, which is to be decorated with sculpture. It will be a pleasure to you tr know, that, at this time, a young man of Ireland is here, who, I reall think, as far as my judgment goes, is fully equal to our best statuaries, both in taste and execution. If you employ him, you will encourage the rising arts in the decoration of the rising virtue of Ireland; and though the former, in the scale of things, is infinitely below the latter, there is a kind of relationship between them. The young man's name who wishes to be employed is Hickey."]

(2) ["Burke," said Johnson, "is never what we call hum-drum; never in a hurry to begin conversation, at a loss to carry it on, or eager to leave off. He does not talk from a desire of distinction, but because his mind is full" The Doctor often delighted to say, " If a man were to go by chance at the same time with Burke, under a shed to shun a shower, he would say, 'This is an extraordinary man!""- CROKER'S Boswell.]

(3) [The following affecting incident, detailed by Mrs. Burke to a friend, took place a few months before Mr. Burke's death, in 1797:-" A feeble old horse, which had been a great favourite with the junior Mr. Burke, and his constant companion in all rural journeyings and sports when both were alike healthful and vigorous, was now, in his age, and on the death of his master, turned out to take the run of the park for the remainder of his life at ease, with strict injunctions to the servants that he should neither be ridden nor molested by any one. While walking one day in solitary musing, Mr. Burke perceived this worn-out old servant come close up to him, and at length, after some moments spent in viewing him, followed by seeming recollection and confidence, deliberately rested its head upon his bosom. The singularity of the action itself; the remembrance of his dead son, its late master, who occupied much of his thoughts at all times; and the apparent attachment and almost intelligence of the poor brute, as if it could sympathise with his inward sorrows; rushing at once into his mind, totally overpowered his firmness, and throwing his arms over its neck he wept long and bitterly."]

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. (1) By him I was favoured with an introduction to Dr. Johnson, who honoured me with his notice, and assisted me, as Mr. Boswell

"Sir

(1) [This great painter and most amiable gentleman died in 1792. Joshua Reynolds was, on very many accounts, one of the most memorable men of his time. He was the first Englishman who added the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country. In taste, in grace, in facility, in happy invention, and in the richness and harmony of colouring, he was equal to the great masters of the renowned ages. In portrait he went beyond them; for he communicated to that department of the art, in which English artists are the most engaged, a variety, a fancy, and a dignity, derived from the higher branches, which even those who professed them in a superior manner, did not always preserve when they delineated individual nature. His portraits remind the spectator of the invention of history, and of the amenity of landscape. In painting portraits, he appears not to be raised upon that platform, but to descend to it from a higher sphere. His paintings illustrate his lessons, and his lessons seem to have been derived from his paintings. He possessed the theory as perfectly as the practice of his art..... In full happiness of foreign and domestic fame, admired by the expert in art, and by the learned in science, courted by the great, caressed by sovereign powers, and celebrated by distinguished poets, his native humility, modesty, and candour never forsook him, even on surprise or provocation; nor was the least degree of arrogance or assumption visible to the most scrutinising eye in any part of his conduct or discourse. His talents

of every kind-powerful from nature, and not meanly cultivated by letters - his social virtues in all the relations and in all the habitudes of life, rendered him the centre of a very great and unparalleled variety of agreeable societies, which will be dissipated by his death. He had too much merit not to provoke some jealousy, too much innocence to provoke any enmity. The loss of no man of his time can be felt with more sincere, general, and unmixed sorrow. Hail! and farewell!"- BURKE.]