te of feeling which arises out of thought, nor can excite
thought or feeling in the Reader. This is the only sensible manner of
dealing with 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 decide by his own feelings genuinely, and not by
reflection upon what will probably be the judgment 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 judgment, 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 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 judgment 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 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 dif