PREFACE.

* * * * * You have no sooner a guinea in London than you have none. In addition to the ways and means I pointed out in my last, gather together the letters I wrote you from Paris, and offer them to the booksellers. There are enough, if you have preserved them, for two volumes. I had partly the intention, in writing these letters, to dress them up one day into some kind of shape for the Public. I am not certain they are fit to be seen in their present dishabille—but leave that to the purchaser. A pretty woman slip-shod is a pretty woman still, and she is not so much improved as you think by her court dress. Tell the Public I do not mean them for great things: I am no critic, no politician, no political economist; but only, as Shakspeare would say, “a snapper up of inconsiderate trifles.” Under this title I have the honour to be, with the most perfect consideration, the Public’s very obedient, humble servant.