The Triumphs of Temper (11th ed.)/Preface
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 canvas: 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 ridicules the French ecclesiastics without reserve 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, without 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 further in such preliminary remarks, as the anxiety of authors is so apt to produce, from the reflexion, that, however ingeniously written, they add little or nothing to the success of a good poem, and are utterly inefficient 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—
E chi la leggera, viva felice!"
Eartham,
Jan. 31, 1781.