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VENETIA

BY THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD, K.G.

1905







  'Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child?'

  'The child of love, though born in bitterness
  And nurtured in convulsion.'




TO

LORD LYNDHURST.

In happier hours, when I first mentioned to you the idea of this Work,
it was my intention, while inscribing it with your name, to have
entered into some details as to the principles which had guided me in
its composition, and the feelings with which I had attempted to shadow
forth, though as 'in in a glass darkly,' two of the most renowned and
refined spirits that have adorned these our latter days. But now I
will only express a hope that the time may come when, in these pages,
you may find some relaxation from the cares, and some distraction
from the sorrows, of existence, and that you will then receive this
dedication as a record of my respect and my affection.

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