by
"My thoughts, like swallows, skim the main,
And bear my spirit back again
Over the earth, and through the air,
A wild bird and a wanderer."
To
Lady Gipps
This Work Is Respectfully Inscribed,
By
A Grateful Friend.
The author of these pages considered that a lengthened explanation mightbe necessary to account for the present work.
He had therefore, at some length, detailed the motives that influencedhim in its composition. He had shown that as a solitary companionlessbushman, it had been a pleasure to him in his lone evenings
"To create, and in creating live A being more intense."
He had expatiated on the love he bears his adopted country, and hadstated that he was greatly influenced by the hope that although
"Sparta hath many a worthier son than he,"
this work might be the humble cornerstone to some enduring and highlyornamented structure.
The author however fortunately remembered, that readers have but littlesympathy with the motives of authors; but expect that their works shouldamuse or instruct them. He will therefore content himself, with giving aquotation from one of those old authors, whose "well of Englishundefined" shames our modern writers.
He intreats that the indulgence prayed for by the learned Cowell may beaccorded to his humble efforts.
"My true end is the advancement of knowledge, and therefore have Ipublished this poor work, not only to impart the good thereof, to thoseyoung ones that want it, but also to draw from the learned, the supplyof my defects.
"Whosoever will charge these travails with many oversights, he shall needno solemn pains to prove them.
"And upon the view taken of this book sithence the impression, I dareassure them, that shall observe most faults therein, that I, by gleaningafter him, will gather as many omitted by him, as he shall shewcommitted by me.
"What a man saith well is not, however, to be rejected, because he hathsome errors; reprehend who will, in God's name, that is, with sweetness,and without reproach.
"So shall he reap hearty thanks at my hands, and thus more soundly helpin a few months, than I by tossing and tumbling my books at home, couldpossibly have done in some years."
"It was a vast and venerable pile."
"Oh, may'st thou ever be as now thou art,
Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring."
The mansion in which dwelt the Delmés was one of wide and extensiverange. Its centre slightly receded, leaving a wing on either side.Fluted ledges, extending the whole length of the building, protrudedabove each story. These were supported by quaint heads of satyr, martyr,or laughing triton. The upper ledge, which concealed the roof fromcasual observers, was of considerably greater projection. Placed aboveit, at intervals, were balls of marble, which, once of pure white, hadnow caught the time-worn hue of the edifice itself. At each corner ofthe front and wings, the balls were surmounted by the family device--theeagle with extended wing. One claw closed over the stone, and the birdrode it proudly an' it had been the globe. The portico, of a pointedGothic, would have seemed heavy, had it not been lightened by glassdoors, the vivid colours of which were not of modern date. Theseadmitted to a capacious hall, where, reposing on the wide-spreadingantlers of some pristine tenant of the park, gleamed many a piece ofarmour that in days of yore had not been