II.
WITH MY READER.
HAVING silenced my Aunt Tabithy, I shall be generous enough in my triumph, to offer an explanatory chat to my reader.
This is a history of Dreams; and there will be those who will sneer at such a his tory, as the work of a dreamer. So indeed it is; and you, my courteous reader, are a dreamer too!
You would perhaps like to find your speculations about wealth, marriage or in fluence, called by some better name than Dreams. You would like to see the history of them if written at all baptized at the font of your own vanity, with some such title as life's cares, or life's work. If there had been a philosophic naming to my observations, you might have reckoned them good: as it is, you count them all bald and palpable fiction.
But is it so? I care not how matter of
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