Preface.
Whatever may be the nature, or design of the work itself, no one, I am persuaded, has ever offered a book to the public without indulging a wish that it should be prosperous, and its influence beneficial. My motives in publishing this little volume are pure, and may be laudable, but it must be allowed they are not altogether disinterested. While I earnestly trust that it may prove an humble source of gratification to those whose benevolence has induced them to befriend me, I pretend not to suppress the desire that it may become the means of contributing to cheer the downward days of my lonely life.
The greater part of these verses was composed at an early period of my life—at a time when the human mind is most susceptible of being deeply impressed by its own ideas, or by the influence of surrounding objects. My artless rhymes indeed may not excite a very powerful interest in the hearts of others; but, in my own, on account of the circumstances and recollections from which they originated, they have long been cherished with the complacency and fondness of affectionate regard.
About twelve years ago, a selection of my pieces was given to the public; and under the active patronage of my well-wishers, met with a reception far beyond what my most sanguine hopes could ever have anticipated: others which, on that occasion, were not required, I have now brought to recollection, and revised with care, and welcomed with the partiality which we naturally devote to an old friend, whose society has often been agreeable, amusing, or instructive. Several of them are of a more recent date; these were composed at intervals subsequent to a protracted illness which nearly exhausted my debilitated frame, and impaired the remaining energies of my mind; while, from the same cause, I was more than usually confined within doors, and thereby deprived of the advantages of friendly instruction. Their subjects are drawn from occurrences which, in a particular manner, interested my own feelings; I have therefore endeavoured to express those feelings in language descriptive of the impression left by them on my own heart. Such then, as they and the others are, they are my best, and I cast them, with respectful diffidence, on the benevolence of the world, and hope that they may be judged solely as the simple effusions of an unpolished mind.
Having a strong presentiment that I shall never more address myself to public attention, I would embrace this last, and to me, important opportunity, of declaring my deep sense of gratitude and respect for those generous individuals by whose kindness my solitude has been enlivened, and my comforts promoted.
My heart derives a melancholy gratification from the discharge of this affecting duty, and it is sad, but satisfied, when wishing my readers every happiness, I bid them Farewell.
CHRISTIAN GRAY.
Milton of Aberdalgie, Perthshire, 1821.