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DEDICATION.

is

ment únemployed, whilst ennui, and vapours, the common attendants of a vacant mind, would be expelled from those unfurnished fair mansions, they have so long tenanted.

I have the honor to be, with the most profound respect,

LADIES,

your very sincere friend,

and admirer,

THE EDITOR.

PREFACE.

PREFACE.

THE subsequent Publication, which the Editor respectfully presents to his particular Friends and Acquaintance, is not meant to transmit to posterity, the literary talents of any of the Writers, even if the intrinsic merit of some of the Pieces in Prose or Verse could justly lay claim to future approbation ; but is intended to do that which a common hand writing, and the single merit of each Piece could not have done, to preserve some scattered 'miscellaneous produce tions from oblivion, by printing them all together,

At

At first the Editor meant only to collect an unfading wreath to encircle the sacred shrine of Friendship, and occasionally remind him of the many delightful months he had past in a social intercourse with two worthy literary friends; but the earnest solicitations of all Mr. and Mrs. Day's acquaintance, who heard of the collection, at last induced him to relinquish his original design, by printing off many more copies than he intended.

If the Editor's frequent satyrical allusions to a savage Usurper, at this awful period, the terrible scourge of degraded Europe, sbould offend the refined sensibility of any of his bireling partizans, (for volunteer advocates he cannot have, unless such as are besotted, or in their dotage) to those respectable admirers and impartial judges of the Tyrant, if common

sense

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sense is not thrown away upon them, the Editor begs leave to observe, that in the same proportion as he feels the honest and natural impulse of love and reverence for characters uncommonly virtuous, like Mr. and Mrs. Day’s, he must of course feel detestation and abhorrence for an hypocritical knave, as different from them, as the angel of light, from the angel of darkness.

Yet such is still the infatuation of some few, that they may be said even now to idolize Bonaparte, totally forgetful of all those horrid acts of barbarity, that have long placed bis virtues in competition with those of Nero or Caligula. Among these is a Young Authoress, of considerable abilities, who has lately published a volume of poems, and to whom the Editor addresses the following lines :

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