The Editor to the Reader,[1]
Revolutions and their Tendencies,[4]
The Christian Principle—a Fragment,[11]
The Sciot Girl,[13]
Story and Sentiment, No. 1,[19]
Fanny Willoughby,[24]
Confessions of a Sensitive Man, No. 1,[25]
Every Man his own Critic,[30]
Washington on the Banks of the Delaware,[34]
Greek Anthology, No. 1,[34]
“Our Magazine,”[39]

THE
YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE.
VOL. I. FEBRUARY, 1836. NO. 1.

THE EDITOR TO THE READER.[*]

Clown. ‘List ye now, friend—let’s hear what this fellow would be saying.’

Sneer. ‘God’s blessing! man—d’ye believe any of his feather?’

Farquhar.

Gentle Reader,—

As I am about to have some little converse with thee, I cannot pass this first bright page of our Magazine, without a greeting word, and a ‘God’s benison’ on our acquaintanceship. Good fellowship and kind wishes betwixt man and man, should first be established. I have ever held this to be one of the little items that go towards making up the sum of human happiness; and as we ourselves cannot justly lay claim to that which we deny to others, and as I would at any sacrifice purchase thy good will, I must needs as a matter of course tell thee, how much I wish for thy prosperity. I cannot flatter thee, gentle reader, (and a wise man will not be flattered into fellowship,) else I should tell thee how much I respect thy good taste and sagacity, on all the delicate matters of nice criticism. I should tell thee, how anxious I am to please thee—how patiently I shall think—write and rewrite—polish and repolish—roam here and every where, culling the sweetest plants and blossoms I can find—only to suit thee; and make a melancholy hour, if any such thou hast, less painful; and if thou art troubled with misanthropy, bring thee back into peace with self and harmony with those around thee. I should tell thee, how patiently I shall submit to the opinions of others—receive their strictures—transpose and re-transpose—twist and re-twist some of my sentences—for fear they may not accomplish the object whereunto I send them, viz. thy pleasure and profit; and how, in more than one instance, I hope even to sacrifice my own taste, lest unhappily it come in contact with thine. I should tell thee, how I shall repeatedly twitch at my purse strings, and with no miserly hand—and how, when unfortunately some inaccuracies slip into a page, I shall cast the same aside and give it a reprint, that nothing may offend the nicety of thine observation. But I cannot flatter thee—therefore these things shall all remain in oblivion.

[*] The reader will please suppose himself conversing with the Editors of this Magazine, ‘rolled into one.’