the situation of the theatrical
mechanist, who, when the white paper which represented his shower of snow
was exhausted, continued the storm by snowing brown, I drew on my memory as
long as I could, and when that failed, eked it out with invention. I
believe that, in some cases, where actual names are affixed to the supposed
quotations, it would be to little purpose to seek them in the works, of the
authors referred to.--And now the reader may expect me, while in the
confessional, to explain the motives why I have so long persisted in
disclaiming the works of which I am now writing. To this it would be
difficult to give any other reply, save that of Corporal Nym--It was the
humour or caprice of the time.

It was not until I had attained the age, of thirty years that I made any
serious attempt at distinguishing myself as an author; and at that period,
men's hopes, desires, and wishes, have usually acquired something of a
decisive character, and are not eagerly and easily diverted into a new
channel. When I made the discovery,--for to me it was one,--that by amusing
myself with composition, which I felt a delightful occupation, I could also
give pleasure to others, and became aware that literary pursuits were
likely to engage in future a considerable portion of my time, I felt some
alarm that I might acquire those habits of jealousy and fretfulness which
have lessened, and even degraded, the character of the children of
imagination, and rendered them, by petty squabbles and mutual irritability,
the laughing-stock of the people of the world, I resolved, therefore, in
this respect, to guard my breast (perhaps an unfriendly critic may add, my
brow,) with triple brass, and as much as possible to avoid resting my
thoughts and wishes upon literary success, lest I should endanger my own
peace of mind and tranquillity by literary failure. It would argue either
stupid apathy or ridiculous affectation, to say that I have been insensible
to the public applause, when I have been honoured with its testimonies; and
still more highly do I prize the invaluable friendships which some
temporary popularity has enabled me to form among those most distinguished
by talents and genius, and which I venture to hope now rest upon a basis
more firm than the circumstances which gave rise to them. Yet feeling all
these advantages, as a man ought to do, and must do, I may say, with truth
and confidence, that I have tasted of the intoxicating cup with m