by T. Smollett
TO DOCTOR ------
You and I, my good friend, have often deliberated on the difficulty ofwriting such a dedication as might gratify the self-complacency of apatron, without exposing the author to the ridicule or censure of thepublic; and I think we generally agreed that the task was altogetherimpracticable.--Indeed, this was one of the few subjects on which we havealways thought in the same manner. For, notwithstanding that deferenceand regard which we mutually pay to each other, certain it is, we haveoften differed, according to the predominancy of those differentpassions, which frequently warp the opinion, and perplex theunderstanding of the most judicious.
In dedication, as in poetry, there is no medium; for, if any one of thehuman virtues be omitted in the enumeration of the patron's goodqualities, the whole address is construed into an affront, and the writerhas the mortification to find his praise prostituted to very littlepurpose.
On the other hand, should he yield to the transports of gratitude oraffection, which is always apt to exaggerate, and produce no more thanthe genuine effusions of his heart, the world will make no allowance forthe warmth of his passion, but ascribe the praise he bestows tointerested views and sordid adulation.
Sometimes too, dazzled by the tinsel of a character which he has noopportunity to investigate, he pours forth the homage of his admirationupon some false Maecenas, whose future conduct gives the lie to hiseulogium, and involves him in shame and confusion of face. Such was thefate of a late ingenious author [the Author of the "Seasons"], who was sooften put to the blush for the undeserved incense he had offered in theheat of an enthusiastic disposition, misled by popular applause, that hehad resolved to retract, in his last will, all the encomiums which he hadthus prematurely bestowed, and stigmatise the unworthy by name--alaudable scheme of poetical justice, the execution of which was fatallyprevented by untimely death.
Whatever may have been the fate of other dedicators, I, for my own part,sit down to write this address, without any apprehension of disgrace ordisappointment; because I know you are too well convinced of my affectionand sincerity to repine at what I shall say touching your character andconduct. And you will do me the justice to believe, that this publicdistinction is a testimony of my particular friendship and esteem.
Not that I am either insensible of your infirmities, or disposed toconceal them from the notice of mankind. There are certain foibles whichcan only be cured by shame and mortification; and whether or not yours beof that species, I shall have the comfort to think my best endeavourswere used for your reformation.
Know then, I can despise your pride, while I honour your integrity, andapplaud your taste, while I am shocked at your ostentation.--I have knownyou trifling, superficial, and obstinate in dispute; meanly jealous andawkwardly reserved; rash and haughty in your resentments; and coarse andlowly in your connexions. I have blushed at the weakness of yourconversation, and trembled at the errors of your conduct--yet, as I ownyou possess certain good qualities, which overbalance these defects, anddistinguish you on this occasion as a person for whom I have the mostperfect attachment and esteem, you have no cause to complain of theindelicacy with which your faults are reprehended. And as they arechiefly the excesses of a sanguine disposition and looseness of thought,impatient of caution or control, you may, thus stimulated, watch overyour own intemperance and infirmity with redoubled vigilance andconsideration, and for the future profit by the severity of my reproof.
These, however, are not the only motives that induce me to trouble youwith this public application. I must not only perform my duty to myfriends, but also discharge the debt I owe to my own interest. We livein a censorious age; and an author cannot take too much precaution toanticipate the prejudice, misapprehension, and temerity of malice,ignorance, and presumption.
I therefore think it incumbent upon me to give some previous intimationof the plan which I have executed in the subsequent performance, that Imay not be condemned upon partial evidence; and to whom can I with morepropriety appeal in my explanation than to you, who are so wellacquainted with all the sentiments and emotions of my breast?
A novel is a large diffused picture, comprehending the characters oflife, disposed in different groups, and exhibited in various attitudes,for the purposes of an uniform plan, and general occurrence, to whichevery individual figure is subservient. But this plan cannot be executedwith propriety, probability, or success, without a principal personage toattract the attention, unite the incidents, unwind the clue of thelabyrinth, and at last close the scene, by virtue of his own importance.
Almost all the heroes of this kind, who have hitherto succeeded on theEnglish stage, are characters of transcendent worth, conducted throughthe vicissitudes of fortune, to that goal of happiness, which ever oughtto be the repose of extraordinary desert.--Yet the same principle bywhich we rejoice at the remuneration of merit, will teach us to relishthe disgrace and discomfiture of vice, which is always an example ofextensive use and influence, because it leaves a deep impression ofterror upon the minds of those who were not confirmed in the pursuit ofmorality and virtue, and, while the balance wavers, enables the rightscale to preponderate.
In the drama, which is a more limited field of invention, the chiefpersonage is often the object of our detestation and abhorrence; and weare as well pleased to see the wicked schemes of a Richard blasted, andthe perfidy of a Maskwell exposed, as to behold a Bevil happy, and anEdward victorious.
The impulses of fear, which is the most violent and interesting of allthe passions, remain longer than any other upon the memory; and for onethat is allured to virtue, by the contemplation of that peace andhappiness which it bestows, a hundred are deterred from the practice ofvice, by that infamy and punishment to which it is liable, from the lawsand regulations of mankind.
Let me not, therefore, be condemned for having chosen my principalcharacter from the purlieus of treachery and fraud, when I declare mypurpose is to set him up as a beacon for the benefit of the unexperiencedand unwary, who, from the perusal of these memoirs, may learn to avoidthe manifold snares with which they are continually surrounded in thepaths of life; while those who hesitate on the brink of iniquity may beterrified from plunging into that irremediable gulf, by surveying thedeplorable fate of Ferdinand Count Fathom.
That the mind might not be fatigued, nor the imagination disgusted, by asuccession of vicious objects, I have endeavoured to refresh theattention with occasional incidents of a different nature; and raised upa virtuous character, in opposition to the adventurer, with a view toamuse the fancy, engage the affection, and form a striking contrast whichmight heighten the expression, and give a relief to the moral of thewhole.
If I have not succeeded in my endeavours to unfold the mysteries offraud, to instruct the ignorant, and entertain the vacant; if I havefailed in my attempts to subject folly to ridicule, and vice toindignation; to rouse the spirit of mirth, wake the soul of compassion,and touch the secret springs that move the heart; I have, at least,adorned virtue with honour and applause, branded iniquity with reproachand shame, and carefully avoided every hint or expression which couldgive umbrage to the most delicate reader--circumstances which (whatevermay be my fate with the public) will with you always operatein favour of,
Dear sir, your very affectionate friend and servant,
THE AUTHOR.