All my friends, learned and unlearned,
have urged me not to publish this Satire with my name.
If I were to be “turned from the career of my
humour by quibbles quick, and paper bullets of the
brain” I should have complied with their counsel.
But I am not to be terrified by abuse, or bullied
by reviewers, with or without arms. I can safely
say that I have attacked none ‘personally’,
who did not commence on the offensive. An Author’s
works are public property: he who purchases may
judge, and publish his opinion if he pleases; and
the Authors I have endeavoured to commemorate may
do by me as I have done by them. I dare say they
will succeed better in condemning my scribblings,
than in mending their own. But my object is not
to prove that I can write well, but, if ‘possible’,
to make others write better.
As the Poem has met with far more
success than I expected, I have endeavoured in this
Edition to make some additions and alterations, to
render it more worthy of public perusal.
In the First Edition of this Satire,
published anonymously, fourteen lines on the subject
of Bowles’s Pope were written by, and inserted
at the request of, an ingenious friend of mine, [2]
who has now in the press a volume of Poetry.
In the present Edition they are erased, and some of
my own substituted in their stead; my only reason for
this being that which I conceive would operate with
any other person in the same manner,—a
determination not to publish with my name any production,
which was not entirely and exclusively my own composition.
With [3] regard to the real talents
of many of the poetical persons whose performances
are mentioned or alluded to in the following pages,
it is presumed by the Author that there can be little
difference of opinion in the Public at large; though,
like other sectaries, each has his separate tabernacle
of proselytes, by whom his abilities are over-rated,
his faults overlooked, and his metrical canons received
without scruple and without consideration. But
the unquestionable possession of considerable genius
by several of the writers here censured renders their
mental prostitution more to be regretted. Imbecility
may be pitied, or, at worst, laughed at and forgotten;
perverted powers demand the most decided reprehension.
No one can wish more than the Author that some known
and able writer had undertaken their exposure; but
Mr. Gifford has devoted himself to Massinger, and,
in the absence of the regular physician, a country
practitioner may, in cases of absolute necessity,
be allowed to prescribe his nostrum to prevent the
extension of so deplorable an epidemic, provided there
be no quackery in his treatment of the malady.
A caustic is here offered; as it is to be feared nothing
short of actual cautery can recover the numerous patients
afflicted with the present prevalent and distressing
rabies for rhyming.—As to the’ Edinburgh
Reviewers’, it would indeed require an Hercules
to crush the Hydra; but if the Author succeeds in
merely “bruising one of the heads of the serpent”
though his own hand should suffer in the encounter,
he will be amply satisfied.
[Footnote 1: The Preface, as
it is here printed, was prefixed to the Second, Third,
and Fourth Editions of ’English Bards, and Scotch
Reviewers’. The preface to the First Edition
began with the words, “With regard to the real
talents,” etc. The text of the poem
follows that of the suppressed Fifth Edition, which
passed under Byron’s own supervision, and was
to have been issued in 1812. From that Edition
the Preface was altogether excluded.
In an annotated copy of the Fourth
Edition, of 1811, underneath the note, “This
preface was written for the Second Edition, and printed
with it. The noble author had left this country
previous to the publication of that Edition, and is
not yet returned,” Byron wrote, in 1816, “He
is, and gone again.”—MS. Notes from
this volume, which is now in Mr. Murray’s possession,
are marked—B., 1816.]
[Footnote 2: John Cam Hobhouse.]
[Footnote 3: Preface to the First Edition.]