MR. CROFTANGRY'S PREFACE.


Indite, my muse indite,
Subpoena'd is thy lyre,
The praises to requite
Which rules of court require.
PROBATIONARY ODES.

The concluding a literary undertaking, in whole or in part, is, to the
inexperienced at least, attended with an irritating titillation, like
that which attends on the healing of a wound--a prurient impatience, in
short, to know what the world in general, and friends in particular,
will say to our labours. Some authors, I am told, profess an oyster-like
indifference upon this subject; for my own part, I hardly believe in
their sincerity. Others may acquire it from habit; but, in my poor
opinion, a neophyte like myself must be for a long time incapable of
such _sang froid_.

Frankly, I was ashamed to feel how childishly I felt on the occasion. No
person could have said prettier things than myself upon the importance
of stoicism concerning the opinion of others, when their applause or
censure refers to literary character only; and I had determined to lay
my work before the public, with the same unconcern with which the
ostrich lays her eggs in the sand, giving herself no farther trouble
concerning the incubation, but leaving to the atmosphere to bring forth
the young, or otherwise, as the climate shall serve. But though an
ostrich in theory, I became in practice a poor hen, who has no sooner
made her deposit, but she runs cackling about, to call the attention of
every one to the wonderful work which she has performed.