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* The shifts and turns, the expedients, and inventions, ' *
** Multiform; to which the mind resorts in chase of term,
* Tho’apt, yet coy, and difficult to win.
* To arrest the fleeting images that fill
“ The mirror of the mind, and hold them fast;
" And force them sit, till he has pencil'd off
" A faithful likeness of the forms he views.”

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

LONDON:

Printed by J. Cundee, Ivy-lane,
POR CROSBY AND CO. STATIONER'S-COURT.

249.0.500.

1

Το

every one whom it may concern, or into whose hands, this book may fall, the Authoress ads dresses herself, with a humble hope that this, her second attempt in the region of fiction, may not be altogether unworthy of a casual attention. She flatters herself that it contains nothing immoral or irreligious, and no sentiment which she ought to blush for having avowed to the world. Many of her quotations are, she doubts not, incorrect, and defective, as they were intirely copied from memory. Some of them she has taken the liberty of altering, the better to accommodate them to her work, and this she ventures to hope may be excused.

The

The poetry, if she dares denominate the humblest efforts of the

untutored muse” by that lofty epithet, was written at different periods—as was also her theatrical fragment. Should the Authoress not intirely fail in amusing a candid, and generous few, who condescend sometimes to stray awhile, amid the bowers of Fancy--should her trifling work succeed in drawing the mind of the afflicted a moment from the bitterness of retrospection ; her labour will not have been ineffectual and she will, at some future period, again

her

pen and endeavour to amuse herself and her readers in which hope she subscribes herself their

Obliged Servant,

THE AUTHORESS:

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iezi 26;'?':: :::: midt CHAP. I.

. inidh whom now can I call my friends! ". Or from whom can I hear the sound of joy? no lo hice the friend has fallen, in diy grave my joy is ai laidai milov

caused " Death, thou cruel spoiler! how ost hast thou caused

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- How many are the

miserable thou hast made rit nii “ And who can escape thy dart of woc?”.

bus Doboditine eid aina -sb od gniysa od "ni ayizer of minos 1 IT sis quite impossible, :Sit,” said a tough-looking soldiers as he marked “ G. R.” on a stage-coachs at the fen, trance ofrithe city of Bath so if you were to give me a thousand pounds I could not suffer you to continue in the eoachin»The troops must be conveyed to the brendezvous on, Barham Downs; ándy if you wantyto get on, you have ' . VOA .

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