opinion of the present state of
poetry in England, and having had it long, as my friends and others
well know--possessing, or having possessed too, as a writer, the
ear of the public for the time being--I have not adopted a
different plan in my own compositions, and endeavoured to correct
rather than encourage the taste of the day. To this I would answer,
that it is easier to perceive the wrong than to pursue the right,
and that I have never contemplated the prospect 'of filling (with
Peter Bell, see its Preface,) permanently a station in the
literature of the country.' Those who know me best, know this, and
that I have been considerably astonished at the temporary success
of my works, having flattered no person and no party, and expressed
opinions which are not those of the general reader. Could I have
anticipated the degree of attention which has been accorded,
assuredly I would have studied more to deserve it. But I have lived
in far countries abroad, or in the agitating world at home, which
was not favourable to study or reflection; so that almost all I
have written has been mere passion,--passion, it is true, of
different kinds, but always passion: for in me (if it be not an
Irishism to say so) my _indifference_ was a kind of passion, the
result of experience, and not the philosophy of nature. Writing
grows a habit, like a woman's gallantry: there are women who have
had no intrigue, but few who have had but one only; so there are
millions of men who have never written a book, but few who have
written only one. And thus, having written once, I wrote on;
encouraged no doubt by the success of the moment, yet by no means
anticipating its duration, and I will venture to say, scarcely even
wishing it. But then I did other things besides write, which by no
means contributed either to improve my writings or my prosperity.

"I have thus expressed publicly upon the poetry of the day the
opinion I have long entertained and expressed of it to all who have
asked it, and to some who would rather not have heard it; as I told
Moore not very long ago, 'we are all wrong except Rogers, Crabbe,
and Campbell.'[4] Without being old in years, I am in days, and do
not feel the adequate spirit within me to attempt a work which
should show what I think right in poetry,