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PREFACE

ΤΟ

THE FIRST VOLUME.

WHEN an Author, by appearing in print, requests an audience of the publick, and is upon the point of speaking for himself, whoever presumes to step before him with a preface, and to say, "Nay, but hear me first," should have something worthy of attention to offer, or he will be justly deemed officious and imper tinent. The judicious reader has, probably upon other occasions, been beforehand with me in this reflection: and I am not very willing it should now be applied to me, however I may seem to expose myself to the dan ger of it. But the thought of having my own name perpetuated in connexion with the name in the title page, is so pleasing and flattering to the feelings of my heart, that I am content to risk something for the gratification.

This Preface is not designed to commend the Poems to which it is prefixed. My testimony would be insufficient for those who are not qualified to judge properly for themselves, and unnecessary to those who are. Besides, the reasons which render it improper and unseemly for a man to celebrate his own performinances, or those of his nearest relatives, will have some

influence in suppressing much of what he might other wise wish to say in favour of a friend, when that friend is indeed an alter idem, and excites almost the same einotions of sensibility and affection as he fee for himself.

It is very probable that these Poems may come into the hands of some persons, in whom the sight of the author's name wili awaken a recollection of incidents and scenes, which, through length of time, they had almost forgotter. They will be reminded of one, who was once the companior of their chosen hours, and who set out with them in early life in the paths which lead to literary honours, to influence and affluence, with equal prospects of success. But he was suddenly and powerfully withdrawn from those pursuits, and he left them without regret; yet not till he had sufficient opportunity of counting the cost and of knowing the value of what he gave up. If happiness could have been found in classical attainments, in an elegant taste, in the exertions of wit, fancy, and genius, and in the esteem and converse of such persons as in these respects were mo t congenial with himself, he would have heen happy. But he was not-He wondered (as thousands in a similar situation still do) that he should continue dissatisfied, with all the means apparently conducive to satisfaction within his reach. But in due time the cause of his disappointment was discovered to him; he had lived without God in the world memorable hour the wisdom which is from above visited his heart. Then he felt himself a wanderer, and then he found a guide. Upon this change of views, a change of plan and conduct followed of course. When he saw the busy and the gay world in its true light, he

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