empire.
But the chain of effects stopped not here; the successful revolution in
America produced the sanguinary revolution in France which produced the
puissant Bonaparte, who produced the French despotism, which has thrown
the whole world in confusion! Thus have these great Powers been
successively punished for their ill-starred conquests; and thus, as I
asserted, have all the present convulsions, revolutions, and disasters
that overwhelm mankind, originated in the capture of the little Fort
Casimir, as recorded in this eventful history.

And now, worthy reader, ere I take a sad farewell, which, alas! must be
for ever--willingly would I part in cordial fellowship, and bespeak thy
kind-hearted remembrance. That I have not written a better history of the
days of the patriarchs is not my fault; had any other person written one
as good, I should not have attempted it at all. That many will hereafter
spring up and surpass me in excellence I have very little doubt, and still
less care; well knowing that, when the great Christovallo Colon (who is
vulgarly called Columbus) had once stood his egg upon its end every one at
table could stand his up a thousand times more dexterously. Should any
reader find matter of offence in this history, I should heartily grieve,
though I would on no account question his penetration by telling him he
was mistaken--his good-nature by telling him he was captious--or his pure
conscience by telling him he was startled at a shadow. Surely, when so
ingenious in finding offence where none was intended, it were a thousand
pities he should not be suffered to enjoy the benefit of his discovery.

I have too high an opinion of the understanding of my fellow-citizens to
think of yielding them instruction, and I covet too much their good-will
to forfeit it by giving them good advice. I am none of those cynics who
despise the world, because it despises them; on the contrary, though but
low in its regard, I look up to it with the most perfect good-nature, and
my only sorrow is, that it does not prove itself more worthy of the
unbounded love I bear it.

If, however, in this my historic production, the scanty fruit of a long
and laborious life, I have failed to gratify the dainty palate of the age,
I can only lament my misfortune, for it is too late in the season for me
even to hope to repair it. Already has withering age showered his sterile
snows upon my brow; in a little while, and this genial warmth which