Go, little booke, God send thee good passage,
And specially let this be thy prayere,
Unto them all that thee will read or hear,
Where thou art wrong, after their help to call,
Thee to correct in any part or all.
CHAUCER’S Belle Dame sans Mercie.
IN concluding a second volume of the Sketch Book the Author cannot but
express his deep sense of the indulgence with which his first has been
received, and of the liberal disposition that has been evinced to treat
him with kindness as a stranger. Even the critics, whatever may be
said of them by others, he has found to be a singularly gentle and
good-natured race; it is true that each has in turn objected to some
one or two articles, and that these individual exceptions, taken in the
aggregate, would amount almost to a total condemnation of his work; but
then he has been consoled by observing that what one has particularly
censured another has as particularly praised; and thus, the encomiums
being set off against the objections, he finds his work, upon the whole,
commended far beyond its deserts.
* Closing the second volume of the London edition.
He is aware that he runs a risk of forfeiting much of this kind favor by
not following the counsel that has been liberally bestowed upon him; for
where abundance of valuable advice is given gratis it may seem a man’s
own fault if he should go astray. He only can say in his vindication
that he faithfully determined for a time to govern himself in his second
volume by the opinions passed upon his first; but he was soon brought to
a stand by the contrariety of excellent counsel. One kindly advised him
to avoid the ludicrous; another to shun the pathetic; a third assured
him that he was tolerable at description, but cautioned him to leave
narrative alone; while a fourth declared that he had a very pretty knack
at turning a story, and was really entertaining when in a pensive mood,
but was grievously mistaken if he imagined himself to possess a spirit
of humor.
Thus perplexed by the advice of his friends, who each in turn closed
some particular path, but left him all the world beside to range in,
he found that to follow all their counsels would, in fact, be to stand
still. He remained for a time sadly embarrassed, when all at once the
thought struck him to ramble on as he had begun; that his work being
miscellaneous and written for different humors, it could not be expected
that any one would be pleased with the whole; but that if it should
contain something to suit each reader, his end would be completely
answered. Few guests sit down to a varied table with an equal appetite
for every dish. One has an elegant horror of a roasted pig; another
holds a curry or a devil in utter abomination; a third cannot tolerate
the ancient flavor of venison and wild-fowl; and a fourth, of truly
masculine stomach, looks with sovereign contempt on those knick-knacks
here and there dished up for the ladies. Thus each article is in
condemned in its turn, and yet amidst this variety of appetites seldom
does a dish go away from the table without being tasted and relished by
some one or other of the guests.
With these considerations he ventures to serve up this second volume in
the same heterogeneous way with his first; simply requesting the reader,
if he should find here and there something to please him, to rest
assured that it was written expressly for intelligent readers like
himself; but entreating him, should he find anything to dislike, to
tolerate it, as one of those articles which the author has been obliged
to write for readers of a less refined taste.
To be serious: The author is conscious of the numerous faults and
imperfections of his work, and well aware how little he is disciplined
and accomplished in the arts of authorship. His deficiencies are also
increased by a diffidence arising from his peculiar situation. He finds
himself writing in a strange land, and appearing before a public
which he has been accustomed from childhood to regard with the highest
feelings of awe and reverence. He is full of solicitude to deserve their
approbation, yet finds that very solicitude continually embarrassing his
powers and depriving him of that case and confidence which are necessary
to successful exertion. Still, the kindness with which he is treated
encourages him to go on, hoping that in time he may acquire a steadier
footing; and thus he proceeds, half venturing, half shrinking, surprised
at his own good-fortune and wondering at his own temerity.