Ebook The Fall of Jerusalem / A Poem

(I MUST begin in the old style.)  In laying these sheets before a criticising public, the author has perhaps overstepped the bounds of decorum, and may be thought by some to impose upon the generosity of his friends—be it so—but, reader, you are aware that there is a spark of ambition in all; some to gain a name—some to rise in the state, and range at large the patriot and statesmen—some (far happier they) to rise in business, and retire to spend the remainder of their lives in a snug little box a few miles from town: but none of these will suit the author—his education is too confined ever to expect publicity, his disposition too peaceful for political exaltation, and his imagination too boundless to look for pleasure or contentment in a mercantile gradation.  What then is his ambition?  To please his friends—at whose request he has ventured to bring forth this Poem, for whose commendation his gratitude is ever flowing, to whose reproof his heart is always open; then frown not, reader, while perusing the following, nor smile when looking over the handful of subscribers;—there are as many as the author wishes for, who is proud to say, that out of all those whose names he has sued for, but two have refused him, and those only from peculiar circumstances; is not this sufficient excuse for his audacity,—enough to raise the vanity of a minor poet?  But say you,—What does the author expect in return for his courage and condescension? merely, that when preparing to read the Fall of Jerusalem, you will lay the poets on the shelf, and criticism on the fire—descend from sublimity to plain jingling, and fancy yourself in company with John Church, who is repeating the tale in his homely style for your entertainment; by these means you will perhaps be led on with the subject to the scene he attempts to describe, and find a portion of that satisfaction he ever feels in trusting to the generosity of his friends.

A young lady, whose name as a subscriber does me much honor, once observed (when speaking of this work), she expected it would be sublimity itself; if my friend meant it, I already tremble for my credit; but if sarcastically said, as no doubt it was, I shall feel delighted in hearing of her disappointment, and feel double pleasure in subscribing myself