any thing rather than on what concerns ourselves; in fine, all those
close vexations, whether chargeable on my faults or my fortunes, which
leave me but little grief to spare for evils comparatively distant and
alien.

Indignation at literary wrongs I leave to men born under happier
stars. I cannot afford it. But so far from condemning those who can, I
deem it a writer's duty, and think it creditable to his heart, to feel
and express a resentment proportioned to the grossness of the
provocation, and the importance of the object. There is no profession
on earth, which requires an attention so early, so long, or so
unintermitting as that of poetry; and indeed as that of literary
composition in general, if it be such as at all satisfies the demands
both of taste and of sound logic. How difficult and delicate a task
even the mere mechanism of verse is, may be conjectured from the
failure of those, who have attempted poetry late in life. Where then a
man has, from his earliest youth, devoted his whole being to an
object, which by the admission of all civilized nations in all ages is
honourable as a pursuit, and glorious as an attainment; what of all
that relates to himself and his family, if only we except his moral
character, can have fairer claims to his protection, or more authorize
acts of self-defence, than the elaborate products of his intellect and
intellectual industry? Prudence itself would command us to show, even
if defect or diversion of natural sensibility had prevented us from
feeling, a due interest and qualified anxiety for the offspring and
representatives of our nobler being. I know it, alas! by woful
experience. I have laid too many eggs in the hot sands of this
wilderness, the world, with ostrich carelessness and ostrich oblivion.
The greater part indeed have been trod under foot, and are forgotten;
but yet no small number have crept forth into life, some to furnish