THE interruption
          referred to
               in the first sentence
                   of the first
                 of these papers
        was just a quarter
               of a century in duration.

    Two articles entitled
         "The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table"
            will be
              found in
                   the "New England Magazine," formerly
                  published in Boston
                       by J. T.
                           and E. Buckingham.

    The date
           of the first
         of these articles
        is November 1831,
           and that
               of the second February 1832.

    When
         "The Atlantic Monthly"
            was begun,
         twenty-five years afterwards,
         and the author
            was asked
                  to write for it,
           the recollection
               of these crude products
             of his uncombed literary boyhood
              suggested the thought
             that it
                would be a curious experiment
                      to shake
                           the same bough again,
         and see
             if the ripe fruit were
                 better or worse
                       than the early windfalls.

    So began this series
           of papers,
         which naturally
            brings those earlier attempts
                   to my own
                 notice and
             that of some few friends
               who were idle enough
                  to read them
                       at the time
                           of their publication.

    The man is
         father to the boy
           that was,
           and I
            am my own son,
         as it seems to me,
           in those papers
               of the New England Magazine.

    If I find
           it hard
              to pardon the boy's faults,
           others would find it harder.

    They will not,
           therefore,
         be reprinted here,
           nor as I hope,
         anywhere.

    But a sentence
          or two from them
        will perhaps bear reproducing,
           and with these
             I trust the gentle reader,
         if that kind being
             still breathes,
           will be contented.

    "It is a capital plan
          to carry a tablet
               with you,
           and,
         when you find yourself felicitous,
           take notes
               of your own conversation."

    -

    "When I feel inclined
          to read poetry
         I take down my Dictionary.

    The poetry of words
        is quite as beautiful as
         that of sentences.

    The author
        may arrange the gems effectively,
           but their fhape and luftre
              have been
                  given by
                       the attrition of ages.

    Bring me the fineft fimile
           from the whole
          range of imaginative writing,
           and I
            will fhow
                   you a fingle word
              which conveys a more profound,
         a more accurate,
           and a more eloquent analogy."

    -

    "Once on a time,
           a notion was ftarted,
         that if all the people
               in the world
            would fhout at once,
           it might be heard
               in the moon.

    So the projectors
        agreed it fhould
          be done
               in juft ten years.

    Some thousand fhip-loads
           of chronometers
        were diftributed
               to the selectmen
                   and other great folks of
                       all the different nations.

    For a year beforehand,
           nothing else was talked about
             but the awful noise
                 that was
                      to be
                          made on the great occafion.

    When the time came,
           everybody had
               their ears so wide open,
         to hear the universal ejaculation
               of BOO,
           - the word agreed upon,
         - that nobody spoke
             except a deaf man
                   in one
                       of the Fejee Islands,
           and a woman in Pekin,
         so that the world
            was never so ftill fince
                   the creation."

    -

    There was nothing better
           than these things
        and there was
               not a little
         that was much worse.

    A young fellow of two
          or three and twenty
        has as good a right
              to spoil a magazine-full
                   of essays
                 in learning
         how to write,
           as an oculist like Wenzel
            had to spoil his hat-full
                   of eyes
                 in learning
             how to operate for cataract,
         or an ELEGANT like Brummel
              to point
                   to an armful of failures
                 in the attempt
              to achieve a perfect tie.

    This son of mine,
           whom I
            have not