Wassailing, prefaces, and waits, are nearly at a stand-still; and in
these days of universality and everything, we almost resolved to leave
this page blank, and every reader to write his own preface, had we not
questioned whether the custom would be more honoured in the breach than
the observance.
My Public--that is, our readers--we have served you seven years, through
fourteen volumes; in each renewing our professions of gratitude, and
study for your gratification; and we hope we shall not presume on your
liberal disposition by calculating on your continued patronage. We have
endeavoured to keep our engagements with you--_to the letter_[1]--as
they say in weightier matters; and, as every man is bound to speak of
the fair as he has found his market in it, we ought to acknowledge the
superabundant and quick succession of literary novelties for the present
volume. There is little of our own; because we have uniformly taken Dr.
Johnson's advice in life--"to play for much, and stake little" This will
extenuate our assuming that "from castle to cottage we are regularly
taken in:" indeed, it would be worse than vanity to suppose that price
or humble pretensions should exclude us; it would be against the very
economy of life to imagine this; and we are still willing to abide by
such chances of success.
[1] This is not intended exclusively for the _new type_ of the
present volume.
Cheap Books, we hope, will never be an evil; for, as "the same care and
toil that raise a dish of peas at Christmas, would give bread to a whole
family during six months;" so the expense of a gay volume at this season
will furnish a moderate circle with amusive reading for a twelvemonth.
We do not draw this comparison invidiously, but merely to illustrate the
advantages of literary economy.
The number _Seven_--the favourite of Swift, (and how could it be
otherwise than odd?) has, perhaps, led us into this rambling monologue
on our merits; but we agree with Yorick in thinking gravity an errant
scoundrel.
A proportionate Index will guide our accustomed readers to any
particular article in the present volume; but for those of shorter
acquaintance, a slight reference to its principal points may be useful.
Besides, a few of its delights may have been choked by weeds and
crosses, and their recollection lost amidst the lights and shadows
of busy life.
The zeal of our Correspondents is first entitled to honourable mention;
and many of their contributions to these pages must have cost them much
time and research; for which we beg them to accept our best thanks.
Of the Selections, generally, we shall only observe, that our aim has
been to convey information and improvement in the most amusing form.
When we sit down to the pleasant task of cutting open--not cutting
_up_--a book, we say, "If this won't turn out something, another will;
no matter--'tis an essay upon human nature. (We) get (our) labour for
(our) pains--'tis enough--the pleasure of the experiment has kept (our)
senses, and the best part of (our) blood awake, and laid the gross to
sleep." In this way we find many good things, and banish the rest;
we attempt to "boke something new," and revive others. Thus we have
described the Siamese Twins in a single number; and in others we
have brought to light many almost forgotten antiquarian rarities.
Of Engravings, Paper, and Print, we need say but little: each speaks
_primâ facie,_ for itself. Improvement has been studied in all of
them; and in the Cuts, both interest and execution have been cardinal
points. Milan Cathedral; Old Tunbridge Wells and its Old Visitors;
Clifton; Gurney's Steam Carriage; and the Bologna Towers; are perhaps
the best specimens: and by way of varying architectural embellishments,
a few of the Wonders of Nature have been occasionally introduced.
Owen Feltham would call this "a cart-rope" Preface: therefore, with
promises of future exertion, we hope our next Seven Years may be as
successful as the past.
143, _Strand, Dec._ 24, 1829.
[Illustration: Thomas Campbell, Esq.]
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