liar productions of that part of the globe, which are
interspersed in the work. Some, indeed, are lost, as well as a part of the
translation, which I have since supplied, having been sent to the
Municipality of Paris, in order to be examined as English papers; where
they still remain, mingled with revolutionary placards, motions, and
harangues; and are not likely to be restored to my possession.

With respect to the translation, I can only hope to deserve the humble
merit of not having deformed the beauty of the original. I have, indeed,
taken one liberty with my author, which it is fit I should acknowledge,
that of omitting several pages of general observations, which, however
excellent in themselves, would be passed over with impatience by the
English reader, when they interrupt the pathetic narrative. In this
respect, the two nations seem to change characters; and while the serious
and reflecting Englishman requires, in novel writing, as well as on the
theatre, a rapid succession of incidents, much bustle and stage effect,
without suffering the author to appear himself, and stop the progress of
the story; the gay and restless Frenchman listens attentively to long
philosophical reflections, while the catastrophe of the drama hangs in
suspense.

My last poetical productions (the Sonnets which are interspersed in this
work) may perhaps be found even more imperfect than my earlier
compositions; since, after a long exile from England, I can scarcely
flatter myself that my ear is become more attuned to the harmony of a
language, with the sounds of which it is seldom gladdened; or that my
poetical taste is improved by living in a country where arts have given
place to arms. But the public will, perhaps, receive with indulgence a work
written under such peculiar circumstances; not composed in the calm of
literary leisure, or in pursuit of literary fame, but amidst the turbulence
of the most cruel sensations, and in order to escape awhile from
overwhelming misery.

H.M.W.

PAUL AND VIRGINIA.

On the eastern coast of the mountain which rises above Port Louis in the
Mauritius, upon a piece of land bearing the marks of former cultivation,
are seen the ruins of two small cottages. Those ruins are situated near the
centre of a valley, formed by immense rocks, and which opens only towards
the north. On the left rises the mountain, called the Height of Discovery,
from whence the eye marks the distant sail when it first