"Though the tissue of adventures through which Thalaba
is conducted in the course of this production, be sufficiently various
and extraordinary, we must not set down any part of the incidents to the
credit of the author's invention. He has taken great pains, indeed, to
guard against such a supposition; and has been as scrupulously correct
in the citation of his authorities, as if he were the compiler of a true
history, and thought his reputation would be ruined by the imputation
of a single fiction. There is not a prodigy, accordingly, or a
description, for which he does not fairly produce his vouchers, and
generally lays before his readers the whole original passage from which
his imitation has been taken. In this way, it turns out, that the book
is entirely composed of scraps, borrowed from the oriental tale-books,
and travels into the Mahometan countries, seasoned up for the English
reader with some fragments of our own ballads, and shreds of our elder
sermons. The composition and harmony of the work, accordingly, is much
like the pattern of that patch-work drapery hat is sometimes to be met
with in the mansions of the industrious, where a blue tree overshadows a
shell-fish, and a gigantic butterfly seems ready to swallow up Palemon
and Lavinia. The author has the merit merely of cutting out each of his
figures from the piece where its inventor had placed it, and stitching
them down together in these judicious combinations.
It is impossible to peruse this poem, with the notes,
without feeling that it is the fruit of much reading, undertaken for the
express purpose of fabricating some such performance. The author has
set out with a resolution to make an oriental story, and a determination
to find the materials of it in the books to which he had access. Every
incident, therefore, and description, — every superstitious usage, or
singular tradition, that appeared to him susceptible of poetical
embellishment, or capable of picturesque representation, he has set down
for this purpose, and adopted such a fable and plan of composition, as
might enable him to work up all his materials, and interweave every one
of his quotations, without any extraordinary violation of unity or
order. When he had filled his common-place book, he began to write; and
his poem is little else than his common-place book versified."
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