I am extremely anxious to guard against any misconception of the
_design_ of this little work. I therefore take the liberty of apprising
the reader beforehand, that it is _not_ a _Play_. It was not intended
for the stage, and properly is not capable of representation. I have
chosen the form of the DIALOGUE as best suited to my purpose in
presenting anew the passions and events of a day long buried in the
past, but it is the dialogue in scenes arranged simply with reference to
the impressions of the _Reader_, and wholly unadapted to the
requirements of the actual stage. The plan here chosen, involves
throughout the repose, the thought, and sentiment of Actual life,
instead of the hurried action, the crowded plot, the theatrical
elevation which the Stage necessarily demands of the pure Drama. I have
only to ask that I may not be condemned for failing to fulfil the
conditions of a species of writing which I have not attempted.
The story involved in these Dialogues is essentially connected with a
well-known crisis in our National History; nay, it is itself a portion
of the historic record, and as such, even with many of its most trifling
minutiae, is imbedded in our earliest recollections; but it is rather in
its relation to the _abstract truth_ it embodies,--as exhibiting a law
in the relation of the human mind to its Invisible protector--the
apparent sacrifice of the _individual_ in the grand movements for the
_race_,--it is in this light, rather than as an historical exhibition,
that I venture to claim for it, as here presented, the indulgent
attention of my readers.
THE AUTHOR.
_New-York, July 7th_, 1839.