The Mysterious Warning

by Eliza Parsons

 

the

MYSTERIOUS WARNING,

A GERMAN TALE.

in four volumes.

BY MRS. PARSONS.

author of

VOLUNTARY EXILE, &c.

—————————"Thus conscience
Can make cowards of us all."

VOL. I.

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LONDON:
PRINTED FOR WILLIAM LANE,
at the
Minerva Press,
leadenhall-street.

m.dcc.xcvi.

 

TO

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

THE PRINCESS OF WALES.

MADAM,

THAT respect, which High Birth, exalted Station,, and personal Charms, exacts, is generally paid without discrimination, because they are adventitious circumstances from whence no merit can be derived to the possessor: But when added to these, we see the most brilliant accomplishments, a graciousness of manners, a condescending sweetness, that implies a wish to be distinguished more by goodness than greatness; then, indeed, we cheerfully tender the homage of our hearts, and feel the highest gratification when uniting admiration with respect, we love and reverence the same object.

To this voluntary homage your Royal Highness is more peculiarly entitled; the dignified features in your character are affability, and that condescension, which, from the pre-eminence of your situation, have irresistible claims upon the mind, confirms the fascination of the eye, and has insured to you, Madam, the affection of a grateful and admiring people.

The suffrage or praise of an obscure individual can be no ways interesting to your Royal Highness; happily your virtues and graces speak for themselves, and require no officious herald to blazon them to the world.

Under this conviction I repress my own feelings, and have only to acknowledge, with equal pride and gratitude, the lively sense I entertain of the distinguished honour conferred on me, in being permitted to inscribe the following Work to your Royal Highness; though. I have not the presumption to hope you can derive much amusement from the perusal. The few pretensions I have to merit are merely negative ones: I have never written a line tending to corrupt the heart, fully the imagination, or mislead the judgment of my young Readers.

With the most profound respect, and every sentiment that admiration and gratitude can inspire, I have the honour to remain,

Madam,

Your Royal Highness's

Most obliged,

And most devoted,

Humble servant,

Leicester-Square, No. 22,
Nov. 15, 1795.

ELIZA PARSONS.

 

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A CARD.

THE Author of the following Work feels herself under the necessity of apologizng to her numerous Friends, for the too frequent demands she makes on their indulgence.—Conscious of her deficiency in talents, inclination has no share in her feeble attempts to entertain the Public: She obtrudes neither from vanity or confidence, and shrinks from the severity of criticism, in the hope that her insignificance may protect her from the pointed darts of ridicule.—To wit and humour, the effervescence of a lively imagination and a happy turn of mind, she can make no pretensions; her former works have been thought to dwell too much on scenes of horror, and melancholy events; she cannot refute the charge: Perhaps her writings take their colouring from her mind;—when the heart is not at ease, it is incapable of communicating cheerful ideas to the descriptive pen; therefore the wisely declines an attempt she is unequal to, of diverting her Readers.

Dulness is a defect of the head, and is pardonable.—Wit, and spirited talents, are too often apt to run riot; their redundancy may sometimes draw vicious characters, and describe profligacy of manners in such seducing glowing colours, as to affect the imagination, to catch the attention of young people, into whose hands works of this kind frequently fall, and may have the dangerous tendency to lessen the horror they ought to feel at vice, and the detestation such characters should inspire.

The Author of this Work is a Parent; as such, she has been strictly observant that her writings should never offend against delicacy or common sense.—She has never dictated one page, or suggested one idea inimical to the precepts of virtue, or that should suffuse the cheek of innocence with a blush.—Here rests her merit; she has no other claims, and throws herself on the mercy of liberal and candid minds.

 

Chapters (not listed in original)

• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• Chapter 4
• Chapter 5
• Chapter 6
• Chapter 7
• Chapter 8
• Chapter 9
• Chapter 10
• Chapter 11
• Chapter 12
• Chapter 13
• Chapter 14
• Chapter 15
• Chapter 16
• Chapter 17
• Chapter 18
• Chapter 19
• Chapter 20
• Chapter 21
• Chapter 22
• Chapter 23
• Chapter 24
• Chapter 25
• Chapter 26
• Chapter 27
• Chapter 28
• Chapter 29
• Chapter 30
• Chapter 31
• Chapter 32
• Chapter 33
• Chapter 34
• Chapter 35
• Chapter 36
• Chapter 37
• Chapter 38
• Chapter 39
• Chapter 40
• Chapter 41
• Chapter 42
• Chapter 43
• Chapter 44
• Chapter 45