PREFACE.
It seems to be a kind of duty incumbent on those who
devote themselves to Poetry, to raise, if possible, the
dignity of a declining Art, by making it as beneficial to
Life and Manners as the limits of Composition, and the
character of modern Times, will allow. The ages,
indeed, are past, in which the song of the Poet was
idolized for its miraculous effects; yet a Poem, intended
to promote the cultivation of good-humour, may still
perhaps be fortunate enough to prove of some little
service to society in general; or, if this idea may be
thought too chimerical and romantic by sober Reason,
it is at least one of those pleasing and innocent
delusions, in which a poetical Enthusiast may be safely
indulged.
The following production owes its existence to an
incident in real life, very similar to the principal action of
the last Canto; but in forming the general plan of the
work, it seemed to me absolutely necessary to introduce
both the agency and the abode of SPLEEN,
notwithstanding the difficulty and the hazard of attempting a
subject so happily executed by the masterly pencil of Pope.
I considered his Cave of Spleen as a most exquisite
cabinet picture; and, to avoid the servility of imitation,
I determined to sketch the mansion of this gloomy Power
on a much wider canvass: Happy, indeed, if the
judgment of the Public may enable me to exclaim, with the
honest vanity of the Painter, who compared his own
works to the divine productions of Raphael,
“E son Pittore anch' Io!”
The celebrated Alessandro Tassoni, who is generally
considered as the inventor of the modern Heroi-comic
Poetry, was so proud of having extended the limits of
his art by a new kind of composition, that he not only
spoke of it with infinite exultation in one of his private
letters, but even gave a MS. copy of his work to his
native city of Modena, with an inscription, in which
he stiled it a new species of Poetry, invented by
himself.
A few partial friends have asserted, that the present
performance has some degree of similar merit; but as I
apprehend all the novelty it possesses, may rather require
an apology, than entitle its Author to challenge
commendation, I shall explain how far the conduct of the Poem
differs from the most approved models in this mode
of writing, and slightly mention the poetical effects,
which such a variation appeared likely to produce.
It is well known, that the favourite Poems, which
blend the serious and the comic, represent their principal
characters in a satirical point of view: It was the
intention of Tassoni (though prudence made him attempt
to conceal it) to satirize a particular Italian
Nobleman, who happened to be the object of his resentment.
Boileau openly ridicules the French Ecclesiastics in his
Lutrin; Garth, our English Physicians, in his
Dispensary; and the Rape of the Lock itself, that most
excellent and enchanting Poem, which I never
contemplate but with new idolatry, is denominated the best
Satire extant, by the learned Dr. Warton, in his very
elegant and ingenious, but severe, Essay on Pope: A
sentence which seems to be confirmed by the Poet himself,
in his letter to Mrs. Fermor, where he says, “the character
of Belinda, as it is now managed, resembles
you in nothing but in beauty.” Though I think, that
no composition can surpass, or perhaps ever equal this
most happy effort of Genius, as a sportive Satire, I
imagined it might be possible to give a new Character to this
mixed species of Poetry, and to render it by its Object,
though not in its Execution, more noble than the most
beautiful and refined Satire can be. We have seen it
carried to inimitable perfection, in the most delicate
raillery on Female Foibles:—It remained to be tried, if
it might not also aspire to delineate the more engaging
features of Female Excellence. The idea appeared to
me worth the experiment; for, if it succeeded, it seemed
to promise a double advantage; first, it would give an
air of novelty to the Poem; and, secondly, what I
thought of much greater importance, it would render it
more interesting to the heart. On these principles, I
have endeavoured to paint
Serena as a most lovely,
engaging, and accomplished character; yet I hope the
colouring is so faithfully copied from general Nature,
that every man, who reads the Poem, may be happy
enough to know many Fair ones, who resemble my
Heroine.
There is another point, in which I have also
attempted to give this Poem an air of novelty: I mean,
the manner of connecting the real and the visionary
scenes, which compose it; by shifting these in alternate
Cantos, I hoped to make familiar Incident and
allegorical Picture afford a strong relief to each other, and
keep the attention of the Reader alive, by an
appearance particularly diversified. I wished, indeed (but I
fear most ineffectually) for powers to unite some touches
of the sportive wildness of Ariosto, and the more
serious sublime painting of Dante, with some portion of the
enchanting elegance, the refined imagination, and the
moral graces of Pope; and to do this, if possible,
with-out violating those rules of propriety, which Mr.
Cambridge has illustrated, by example as well as precept, in
the Scribleriad, and in his sensible Preface to that
elegant and learned Poem.
I have now very frankly informed my Reader of the
extent, or rather the extravagance of my desire; for
I will not give it the serious name of design: They,
whom an enlightened taste has rendered thoroughly
sensible how very difficult it must be to accomplish such an
idea, will not only be the first to discern, but the most
ready to pardon those errors, into which so hazardous
an attempt may perhaps have betrayed me. I had
thoughts of introducing this performance to the Public,
by a Dissertation of considerable length on this species
of Poetry; but I forbear to indulge myself any farther
in such preliminary remarks, as the anxiety of authors
is so apt to produce, from the reflection, that, however
ingeniously written, they add little or nothing to the
success of a good Poem, and are utterly insufficient to
prevent that neglect, or oblivion, which is the inevitable
fate of a bad one.
In dismissing a work to my Fair Readers, which is
intended principally for their perusal, I shall only
recommend it to their attention; and bid them farewell,
in the words of the pleasant and courteous Tassoni—
“Vaglia il buon voler, s' altro non lice,
“E chi la leggera, viva felice!”
Eartham
Jan. 31, 1781.