time, such a concurrence in the Sentiments and Expressions of Genius in
very distant Ages, and under widely different Circumstances, is always
interesting, even where it can be resolv'd with Certainty, or
Probability, into IMITATION: and much more so, when, as in these Poems,
it is certain that it CAN NOT.

I have very few Words more to say in presenting this little Volume to
the PUBLIC. Specimens they will find in it of such different kinds of
Composition, as the same individual rarely can attempt with success. Yet
through great diversity of Style, Dissimilarity of Measure, and Variety
of Sentiment and Subject, may be seen the same Mind: and Traces of the
same Manner, and that manner peculiarly characteristic...a mixture of
contemplative equanimity, of incidental gleams of vivacity; of energy
frequently pathetic, sometimes sarcastic, and not seldom sublime. And we
have here an additional proof, that a true poetic Spirit, in whatever
Breast it inhabits, will create Thoughts, Language, and Numbers, worthy
of the Muse, however unfavourable the occupation and habits of Life.

Mr. NATHANIEL BLOOMFIELD was not without his fears, however, lest it
should be thought, that, although THE MUSE can visit a SHEPHERD'S BOY,
there may be some employments which exclude her influence. That a TAYLOR
should be a POET, he doubted, might appear too startling an Assertion.
And he had said accordingly to his Brother GEORGE, in a Letter, when
this Publication was first going to Press, "I want you to exclude the
word _Taylor_. Let there be no such Word in the Book. But perhaps I am
too late. I know there is in the public Mind as great contempt for him
who bears the appellation of _Taylor_, as STERNE has made old SHANDY
have for SIMKIN, NECKEY, or TRISTRAM. How many CAESARS and POMPEYS, says
he, by mere inspiration of the names, have been rendered worthy of them?
And how many are there who might have done exceedingly well in the
World, had not their Characters and Spirits been totally depress'd and
Nicodemiz'd; and I will add (says Mr. N. BLOOMFIELD) taylor'd into
nothing? In the REHEARSAL, the Author, to make the most ridiculous
part of it still more ridiculous, tells us, that it was written to a
Taylor, and by a Taylor's Wife. And even the discerning SPECTATOR
has given into this common-place raillery in the Monkey's Letter to her
Mistress. He has made the Soul which inhabited Pug's Body, in recounting
the humiliating State it had formerly be