back again. This book of two hundred and forty pages I was induced to print at my own expense, principally that I might have it for gifts to friends at Christmas and New Year. Three hundred copies were thus expended on those occasions, and during a few consecutive months. It consists of extracts on all sorts of subjects, made during a series of years, in obedience to the ancient injunction of reading with a pen or pencil in the hand. A mass of manuscripts thus collected, without the most distant idea of publication; but suddenly it came into my mind, that what had given pleasure or edification to myself, might perform a similar office for others. Whereupon I made a decimation of these hoarded sentiments, among which some of my own had anonymously intruded. The work has been well received, though not offered for sale, and, having been printed at a distance, is somewhat defaced by typographical errors.
There was a long period, after I became a writer for the public, when periodical literature flourished abundantly. The monthly magazines in particular became almost a legion. Every position, occupation, and age of human life seemed to have its own exponent. This, after a series of years, regulated itself, and such as were essentially ephemeral disappeared. Some, whose embellishments were original and tasteful, continued to stimulate the fine arts, and a few established Reviews to hold high guardianship over the interests of literature.
