_Author._ The complaints in the time of Elizabeth and James, of the alarming fertility of the press, were as loud as they are at present-- yet look at the shore over which the inundation of that age flowed, and it resembles now the Rich Strand of the Faery Queen--

----"Besrrew'd all with rich array,
Of pearl and precious stones of great assay;
And all the gravel mix'd with golden ore."

Believe me, that even in the most neglected works of the present age, the next may discover treasures.

_Captain._ Some books will defy all alchemy.

_Author._ They will be but few in number; since, as for the writers, who are possessed of no merit at all, unless indeed they publish their works at their own expense, like Sir Richard Blackmore, their power of annoying the public will be soon limited by the difficulty of finding undertaking booksellers.

_Captain._ You are incorrigible. Are there no bounds to your audacity?

_Author._ There are the sacred and eternal boundaries of honour and virtue. My course is like the enchanted chamber of Britomart--

"Where as she look'd about, she did behold
How over that same door was likewise writ,
_Be Bold--Be Bold,_ and everywhere _Be Bold._
Whereat she mused, and could not construe it;
At last she spied at that room's upper end
Another iron door, on which was writ--
BE NOT TOO BOLD."

_Captain._ Well, you must take the risk of proceeding on your own principles.

_Author._ Do you act on yours, and take care you do not stay idling here till the dinner hour is over.--I will add this work to your patrimony, _valeat quantum._

Here our dialogue terminated; for a little sooty-faced Apollyon from the Canongate came to demand the proof-sheet on the part of Mr. M'Corkindale; and I heard Mr. C. rebuking Mr. F. in another compartment of the same labyrinth I have described, for suffering any one to penetrate so far into the _penetralia_ of their temple.

I leave it to you to form your own opinion concerning the import of this dialogue, and I cannot but believe I shall meet the wishes of our common parent in prefixing this letter to the work which it concerns.

I am, reverend and dear Sir,
Very sincerely and affectionately
Yours,

THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL

_Knifegrinder._ Story? Lord bless you! I have none to tell, sir. _Poetry of the Antijacobin._

THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL

CHAPTER I

Now Scot and English are agreed,
And Saunders hastes to cross the Tweed,
Where, such the splendours that attend him,
His very mother scarce had kend him.
His metamorphosis behold,
From Glasgow frieze to cloth of gold;
His back-sword, with the iron hilt,
To rapier, fairly hatch'd and gilt;
Was ever seen a gallant braver!
His very bonnet's grown a beaver.
_The Reformation._

The long-continued hostilities which had for centuries separated the south and the north divisions of the Island of Britain, had been happily terminated by the succession of the pacific James I. to the English Crown. But although the united crown of England and Scotland was worn by the same individual, it required a long lapse of time, and the succession of more than one generation, ere the inveterate national prejudices which had so long existed betwixt the sister kingdoms were removed, and the subjects of either side of the Tweed brought to regard those upon the opposite bank as friends and as brethren.