if genuine, is as permanent as pure science), her
appropriate employment, her privilege and her
duty,
is to treat of things not as they
are, but
as they
appear; not as they exist in themselves,
but as they
seem to exist to the
senses,
and to the
passions. What a world of delusion
does this acknowledged obligation prepare for the
inexperienced! what temptations to go astray are here
held forth for them whose thoughts have been little
disciplined by the understanding, and whose feelings
revolt from the sway of reason!—When a juvenile
Reader is in the height of his rapture with some vicious
passage, should experience throw in doubts, or common
sense suggest suspicions, a lurking consciousness
that the realities of the Muse are but shows, and
that her liveliest excitements are raised by transient
shocks of conflicting feeling and successive assemblages
of contradictory thoughts—is ever at hand
to justify extravagance, and to sanction absurdity.
But, it may be asked, as these illusions are unavoidable,
and, no doubt, eminently useful to the mind as a process,
what good can be gained by making observations, the
tendency of which is to diminish the confidence of
youth in its feelings, and thus to abridge its innocent
and even profitable pleasures? The reproach implied
in the question could not be warded off, if Youth
were incapable of being delighted with what is truly
excellent; or, if these errors always terminated of
themselves in due season. But, with the majority,
though their force be abated, they continue through
life. Moreover, the fire of youth is too vivacious
an element to be extinguished or damped by a philosophical
remark; and, while there is no danger that what has
been said will be injurious or painful to the ardent
and the confident, it may prove beneficial to those
who, being enthusiastic, are, at the same time, modest
and ingenuous. The intimation may unite with their
own misgivings to regulate their sensibility, and to
bring in, sooner than it would otherwise have arrived,
a more discreet and sound judgement.
If it should excite wonder that men of ability, in
later life, whose understandings have been rendered
acute by practice in affairs, should be so easily
and so far imposed upon when they happen to take up
a new work in verse, this appears to be the cause;—that,
having discontinued their attention to poetry, whatever
progress may have been made in other departments of
knowledge, they have not, as to this art, advanced
in true discernment beyond the age of youth. If,
then, a new poem fall in their way, whose attractions
are of that kind which would have enraptured them
during the heat of youth, the judgement not being
improved to a degree that they shall be disgusted,
they are dazzled, and prize and cherish the faults
for having had power to make the present time vanish
before them, and to throw the mind back, as by enchantment,
into the happiest season of life. As they read,
powers seem to be revived, passions are regenerated,
and pleasures restored. The Book was probably
taken up after an escape from the burden of business,
and with a wish to forget the world, and all its vexations
and anxieties. Having obtained this wish, and
so much more, it is natural that they should make
report as they have felt.