The illustration to the song of Alknomook is from music published contemporaneously with the play. This song had long the popularity of a national air and was familiar in every drawing-room in the early part of the century. Its authorship has been accredited both to Philip Freneau and to Mrs. Hunter, the wife of the celebrated English physician, John Hunter. It was published as by Freneau in the American Museum, where it appears (with slight changes from the version in the 'Contrast') in vol. I., page 77. But Freneau never claimed to have written it, and never placed it among his own collections of his poems, several editions of which he made long after the 'Contrast' was published. Mrs. Hunter's poems were not printed till 1806, and the version of the song there printed is an exact copy as given in the play. This song also appeared in a play, entitled, 'New Spain, or Love in Mexico,' published at Dublin in 1740. After considerable research, I have become convinced that Alknomook is the offspring of Tyler's genius. THOMAS J. MCKEE THE CONTRAST A COMEDY; IN FIVE ACTS: WRITTEN BY A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES; Primus ego in patriam Aonio--deduxi vertice Musas. VIRGIL (Imitated) First on our shores I try THALIA'S powers, And bid the laughing, useful Maid be ours. THE CONTRAST (BEING THE FIRST ESSAY OF *AMERICAN* GENIUS IN DRAMATIC ART) IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE PRESIDENT AND MEMBERS OF THE Dramatic Association, BY THEIR MOST OBLIGED AND MOST GRATEFUL SERVANT, THOMAS WIGNELL PHILADELPHIA, 1 January, 1790 PROLOGUE WRITTEN BY A YOUNG GENTLEMAN OF NEW-YORK, AND SPOKEN BY MR. WIGNELL EXULT, each patriot heart!--this night is shewn A piece, which we may fairly call our own; Where the proud titles of "My Lord! Your Grace!" To humble Mr. and plain Sir give place. Our Author pictures not from foreign climes The fashions or the follies of the times; But has confin'd the subject of his work To the gay scenes--the circles of New-York. On native themes his Muse displays her pow'rs; If ours the faults, the virtues too are ours. Why should our thoughts to distant countries roam, When each refinement may be found at home? Who travels now to ape the rich or great, To deck an equipage and roll in state; To court the graces, or to dance with ease, Or by hypocrisy to strive to please? Our free-born ancestors such arts despis'd; Genuine sincerity alone they pris'd; Their minds, with honest emulation fir'd; To solid good--not ornament--aspir'd; Or, if ambition rous'd a bolder flame, Stern virtue throve, where indolence was shame.