He may be a writer new to publication, and unwilling to avow a character to which he is unaccustomed; or he may be a hackneyed author who is ashamed of too frequent appearance, and employs this mystery, as the heroine of the old comedy used her mask to attract the attention of those to whom her face had become too familiar.
He may be a man of a grave profession, to whom the reputation of being a novel-writer might be prejudicial; or he may be a man of fashion, to whom writing of any kind might appear pedantic.He may be too young to assume the character of an author, or so old as to make it advisable to lay it aside.
The Author of Waverley has heard it objected to this novel that in the character of Callum Beg, and in the account given by the Baron of Bradwardine of the petty trespasses of the Highlanders upon trifling articles of property, he has borne hard, and unjustly so, upon their national character.Nothing could be farther from his wish or intention.The character of Callum Beg is that of a spirit naturally turned to daring evil, and determined, by the circumstances of his situation, to a particular species of mischief.
Those who have perused the curious Letters from the Highlands, published about 1726, will find instances of such atrocious characters which fell under the writer's own observation, though it would be most unjust to consider such villains as representatives of the Highlanders of that period, any more than the murderers of Marr and Williamson can be supposed to represent the English of the present day.As for the plunder supposed to have been picked up by some of the insurgents in 1745, it must be remembered that, although the way of that unfortunate little army was neither marked by devastation nor bloodshed, but, on the contrary, was orderly and quiet in a most wonderful degree, yet no army marches through a country in a hostile manner without committing some depredations; and several to the extent and of the nature jocularly imputed to them by the Baron, were really laid to the charge of the Highland insurgents;for which many traditions, and particularly one respecting the Knight of the Mirror, may be quoted as good evidence.<*><! p4>
* See note, Author's Address to all in General p.<? p469>.
GENERAL PREFACE, 1829.
------And must I ravel out My weaved-up' follies?
Richard II.Act IV.
Having undertaken to give an Introductory Account of the compositions which are here offered to the public, with Notes and illustrations, the Author, under whose name they are now for the first time collected, feels that he has the delicate task of speaking more of himself and his personal concerns, than may perhaps be either graceful or prudent.In this particular, he runs the risk of presenting himself to the public in the relation that the dumb wife in the jest-book held to her husband, when, having spent half of his fortune to obtain the cure of her imperfection, he was willing to have bestowed the other half to restore her to her former condition.
But this is a risk inseparable from the task which the Author has undertaken, and he can only promise to be as little of an egotist as the situation will permit.It is perhaps an indifferent sign of a disposition to keep his word, that having introduced himself in the third person singular, he proceeds in the second paragraph to make use of the first.But it appears to him that the seeming modesty connected with the former mode of writing, is overbalanced by the inconvenience of stiffness and affectation which attends it during a narrative of some length, and which may be observed less or more in every work in which the third person is used, from the Commentaries of C<ae>sar, to the Autobiography of Alexander the Corrector.<*>
* (=Alexander the Corrector,= a name assumed by Alexander Cruden, best * known as the author of the Concordance.Among various other pamphlets, he * published in three parts ``The Adventures of Alexander the Corrector,'' 1754 and * 1755---``exhibiting,'' says Alexander Chalmers, ``a species of insanity which is * almost unique.'')I must refer to a very early period of my life, were I to point out my first achievements as a tale-teller---but I believe some of my old schoolfellows can still bear witness that I had a distinguished character for that talent, at a time when the applause of my companions was my recompense for the disgraces and punishments which the future romance-writer incurred for being idle himself, and keeping others idle, during hours that should have been employed on our tasks.The chief enjoyment of my holidays was to escape with a chosen friend, who had the same taste with myself, and alternately to recite to each other such wild adventures as we were able to devise.We told, each in turn, interminable tales of knight-errantry and battles and enchantments, which were continued from one day to another as opportunity offered, without our ever thinking of bringing them to a conclusion.As we observed a strict secrecy on the subject of this intercourse, it acquired all the character of a concealed pleasure; and we used to select, for the scenes of our indulgence, long walks through the solitary and romantic environs of Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, Braid Hills, and similar places in the vicinity of Edinburgh; and the recollection of those holidays still forms an _oasis_ in the pilgrimage which I have to look back upon.I have only to add, that my friend<*> still lives a prosperous * (John Irving, writer to the Signet, Edinburgh, died 1850.)gentleman, but too much occupied with graver business, to thank me for indicating him more plainly as a confidant of my childish mystery.
