After a silence of some minutes, during which he walked up and down the room in a fit of abstraction, he suddenly paused, and said, as if thinking aloud—
“Hem, hem—so you are going to cross the border, eh? That northern intellect is strong. Able men the Scotch, a little too radical in politics, and a little too liberal, as it is called, in a matter of much greater consequence; but a superior people, on the whole. They will give you a warm reception, will the Scotch. Your name will insure that; and they are clannish; and another warm reception will, I assure you, await you here, when, returning, you again Cross the Border.”
CHAPTER XV. THE IRISH PREFACE.
Gentle reader,
If an Irishman were asked what a preface was, he would, without hesitation reply, that it was the last chapter of a book, and we should unquestionably pronounce that answer to be a bull; for how can prefatory remarks be valedictory ones? A few moments’ consideration, however, would induce us to withdraw such a hasty opinion, and convince us that his idea is, after all, a correct one. It is almost always the part that is last written, and we perpetrate the bull, by placing it at the beginning instead of the end of the book, and denominating our parting words introductory remarks.
The result of our arrangement is, that nobody reads it. The public do not want to hear an apology or explanation, until it first ascertains, whether the one can be accepted, or the other is required. This contemptuous neglect arises from two causes, first because it is out of place, and secondly because it too often contains a great deal of twaddle. Unfortunately, one half of what is said in this world is unmeaning compliment. A man who wishes to mark his respect for you, among other inconvenient methods of shewing it, offers to accompany you to the Hall. You are in consequence arrested in your progress. You are compelled to turn on your pursuer, and entreat him not to come to the door. After a good deal of lost time he is prevailed upon to return. This is not fair. Every man should be suffered to depart in peace.
Now, it is my intention to adopt the Irish definition. The word preface is a misnomer. What I have to say I shall put into my last chapter, and assign to it its proper place. I shall also adopt another improvement, on the usual practice. I shall make it as short as possible, and speak to the point.
My intention then, gentle reader, was when I commenced this work, to write but one volume, and at some future time to publish a second. The materials, however, were so abundant, that selection became very difficult, and compression much more so. To touch as many topics as I designed, I was compelled to extend it to its present size, and I still feel that the work is only half done. Whether I shall ever be able to supply this deficiency I cannot say. I do not doubt your kind reception; I have experienced too much indulgence and favour at your hands, to suppose that you will withdraw it from one whom you have honoured with repeated marks of approbation; but I entertain some fears that I shall not be able to obtain the time that is necessary for its completion, and that if I can command the leisure, my health will insist on a prior claim to its disposal.
If, however, I shall be enabled so to do, it is my intention, hereafter to add another series of the Sayings and Doings of the Attache, so as to make the work as complete as possible.