PREFACE.
There is but little necessity of troubling the public, either
with a criticism or an apology, in the front of this Romance.
The author publishes from none of the avowed motives of his
countrymen; neither at the solicitations of friends, for the good
of the poor, nor for his own good. He is not ashamed of acknowledging,
that the impelling principle is the same with
that which instigates all authors, whose reasons are worth
scrutinizing. After this candid confession, he states, not by
way of apology, but to give his readers fair data, to form their
estimate of his ability, that he is yet a youth, and, among the
rhymers of the day, “a childe,” in a legal as well as in a poetical
sense of the term.
The first part was written some time ago, when the writer
beguiled his leisure moments with “loose numbers,” without
dreaming that they would ever be subjected to the inspection
of a human eye. The last eight scenes have been lately added.
The whole was rapidly written in that lax measure which
mightier bards have adopted; and which is, therefore, a sufficient
vindication of the present humble performance.
Custom and prejudice have made it necessary that a new
candidate among us should come forward anonymously. This
is perhaps the only happy effect, which the personages aforesaid
have produced on the literature of the United States.
Without a name, and without a patron, with all the defects
arising from not being at home in the scenes he describes, venturing
his taper in the meridian blaze of modern minstrelsy;
yet, if there be any of the “disjecti membra poetæ” among
the rhymes of the author, he must be encouraged—il sera
bientôt deterré: if none there are, a happy oblivion will shroud
at once his verses and his hopes.