We feel however that the subject, which we have undertaken, is surrounded with many difficulties, and our History may probably present as barren and unpromising an aspect as the country which it is intended to delineate. It has been observed by Burke, and other philosophers, that our interest can only be powerfully excited by the representation of scenes of sorrow, and when we can call in the aid of pity, to weep over the desolation of fallen cities, and depopulated countries. It is this principle that operates so powerfully on our minds when we peruse the pages of Gibbon, Volney, and Eustace; and the researches of Belzoni in the deserts of Egypt, would never have been favored with so much regard, had he not had the tombs and pyramids to explore with all their historical and melancholy associations: it is this powerful principle also that enshrouds with the deepest interest, the lamentations of Milman over the fall of Jerusalem, of the highly-talented yet unhappy Byron over the deserted cities of Greece, of Campbell over the wrongs of the much injured Poles, of the eloquent Curran over the sorrows of his unhappy country, and lastly of Milton (in the most beautiful of all compositions) over Paradise Lost. We have no scenes of similar grandeur, with all their tragic effect, to enliven our pages; we have no deserted cities, like Athens, Baalbec, and Palmyra with their ruins and their tombs;—no armies have for many centuries past ranged in all their wild and devastating career over our land; and when they did resort hither, we learn from Tacitus, that their time was occupied in the more noble employment of cultivation, and embank ment. We have no romantic legends with which we can adorn our history;--our country is not like that of the Swiss Alps or the Tyrol, where every hill, and every pass is celebrated, as the scene of some patriotic exploit ;--we have only to trace a barren wilderness gradually brought into general fertility, and a Town progressively rising into a state of well-earned opulence; but there is an interest attached to our Town, and to our native soil that we can never banish,-it is our home, it is the land which our fathers have cultivated; and this simple fact is enough to cast a halo of beatitude around all our contemplations respecting it. We shall probably be accused of giving way too much to the influence of imagination, particularly in our first Chapter, and of too frequently adopting the language of the Poets; but we envy not the feelings of that man, "who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry out that all is barren," and who can look down even on the little wildflowers that peep forth in spring without some agreeable association. A primrose by the river's brim, A yellow primrose is to him, To such cold and unfruitful minds we fear that our production will have few charms: although we cannot assert that the being, who despises poetical allusions, is devoid altogether of intelligence; yet we agree with Dr. Burney, who, in the preface to his history of Music, states, that "the man who is capable of being effected witn sweet sounds (and there is an inseparable alliance between poetry and music) is a being certainly more perfectly organized than he, who is insensible to, or offended by them." We should also inform our reader, although it will perhaps be readily discovered, that our mind has not been nurtured in academic bowers; nor the luxuriance of an ardent imagination been tempered by the discretion of a well matured age. We have not toiled at the midnight lamp, nor allowed this task to interfere with our daily avocations; it is merely the offspring of a few leisure hours, and makes no claim to perfection. We have described all things as we have felt them, and as we believe they are, and in sending our little book amongst our friends, we feel a confidence that their benevolence will throw their superior talents into the shade, and that they will cast their shield over the author, who asks the greatest indulgence and protection at their hands. We shall conclude these remarks with an ardent wish-nay, with a fervent prayer-that the blessings which have been, by a kind Providence, so |