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PREFACE.

WEAK and delicate minds may, perhapë, bе' alarmed by the title of this Work. The word "Solitude," may possibly engender melancholy ideas; but they have only to read a few pages to be undeceived. The author is not one of those extravagant misanthropists who expect that men, formed by Nature for the enjoyments of society, and impelled continually towards it by a multitude of powerful and invincible propensities, should seek refuge in forests, and inhabit the dreary cave or lonely cell: he is a friend to the species, a rational philosopher, and a virtuous citizen, who, encouraged by the esteem of his Sovereign, endeavours to enlighten the minds of his fellow-creatures upon a subject of infinite importance to them, the attainment of true felicity.

No writer appears more completely convinced than M. Zimmerman, that man is born for society, or feels its duties with more refined sensibility.

It is the nature of human society, and its cor. respondent duties, which he here undertakes to examine. The important characters of Father, Husband, Son, and Citizen, impose on Man a variety of obligations, which are always dear to virtuous minds, and establish between him, his

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country, his family, and his friends, relations too necessary and attractive to be disregarded.

"What wonder, therefore, since th' endearing ties
Of passion link the universal kind

Of man so close, what wonder if to search

This common nature through the various change
Of sex, and age, and fortune, and the frame
Of each peculiar, draw the busy mind
With unresisted charms? The spacious West,
And all the teeming regions of the South,
Hold not a quarry to the curious flight,
Of knowledge half so tempting or so fair
As Man to Man."

But it is not amidst tumultuous joys and noisy pleasures, in the chimeras of ambition, or the illusions of self-love, in the indulgence of feeling, or the gratification of desire, that men must expect to feel the charms of those mutual ties which link them so firmly to society. It is not in such enjoyments that men can feel the dignity of those duties, the performance of which Nature has rendered productive of so many pleasures, or hope to taste that true felicity which results from an independent mind and a contented heart: a felicity seldom sought after, only because it is so little known, but which every individual may find within his own bosom. Who, alas! does not constantly experience the necessit of entering into that sacred asylum to search f consolation under the real or imaginary misfortunes of life, or to alleviate indeed more frequently the fatigue of its painful pleasures? Yes, all men, from the mercenary trader, who sinks under the anxiety of his daily task, to the proud statesman, intoxi, cated by the incense of popular applause, expe

rience the desire of terminating their arduous career. Every bosom feels an anxiety for repose, and fondly wishes to steal from the vortex of a busy and perturbed life to enjoy the tranquillity of Solitude.

"Hackney'd in business, wearied at that oar

Which thousands, once chain'd fast to, quit no more
But which, when life at ebb runs weak and low,
All wish, or seem to wish, they could forego;
The statesman, lawyer, merchant, man of trade,
Pant for the refuge of a peaceful-shade;
Where, all his long anxieties forgot
Amidst the charms of a sequester'd spot,
Or recollected only to gild o'er

And add a smile to what was sweet before,
He may possess the joys he thinks he sees,
Lay his old age upon the lap of ease,
Improve the remnant of his wasted span,
And, having liv'd a trifler, die a man."

It is under the peaceful shades of Solitude that the mind regenerates and acquires fresh force; it is there alone that the happy can enjoy the fulness of felicity, or the miserable forget their woe; it is there that the bosom of sensibility experiences its most delicious emotions: it is there that creative genius frees itself from the thraldom of society, and surrenders itself to the impetuous rays of an ardent imagination. To this desired goal all our ideas and desires perpetually tend. "There is," says Dr. Johnson, " scarcely any writer who has not celebrated the happiness of rural privacy, and delighted himself and his readers with the melody of birds, the whisper of groves, and the murmurs of rivulets; nor any man eminent for extent of capacity, or greatness of exploits, that has not left behind him some

memorials of lonely wisdom and silent dig. nity."

The original Work from which the following pages are selected, consists of four large volumes, which have acquired the universal approbation of the German Empire, and obtained the suffrages of an Empress celebrated for the superior brilliancy of her mind, and who has signified her approbation in the most flattering manner.

On the 26th of January, 1785, a courier, dis. patched by the Russian Envoy at Hamburgh, presented M. Zimmerman with a small casket, in the name of her Majesty the Empress of Russia. The casket contained a ring set round with diamonds of an extraordinary size and lustre; and a gold medal, bearing on one side the portrait of the Empress, and on the other the date of the happy reformation of the Russian Empire. This present the Empress accompanied with a letter, written with her own hand, containing these remarkable words:" To M. Zimmerman, Counsellor of State and Physician to his Britannic Majesty, to thank him for the excellent Precepts he has given to mankind in his Treatise upon Solitude."

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