In perusing the following pages, it will I hope be believed, that they
were not originally written with any view to publication: circumstances
have since occurred, which induce me to alter my first intention, and to
submit them to a more enlarged circle, than that of a few intimate
friends, to whose eye alone I had once thought of presenting them.
In committing my First Impressions to so fearful an ordeal as the
opinion of the Public, I feel oppressed by a sense of their various
imperfections, and by the conviction of their trifling value as a work
of the sort; yet I still flatter myself they will be received with
forbearance. I had much amusement in attempting this little sketch, and
I most sincerely entreat that it may be considered as what it is, a
sketch only. My friends will not, and readers in general must not, look
for fine writing from the pen of such a novice as myself; nor ought they
to expect me (labouring under the twofold disadvantage of sex and
inexperience) to narrate with the accuracy and precision of a regular
tourist, the history (natural, moral, political, literary and
commercial) of all the places we visited: still less, that (in
compliment to the lovers of the gastronomic art) I should undertake to
give the bill of fare of every _table d'hôte_ or _traiteur_ that we met
with in our progress.
Among the many fears which assail me, there is one that recurs to my
mind with more pertinacity than the rest: that I may be taxed with
having bestowed too warm and glowing a colouring upon some objects of
natural beauty and sublimity. Formerly, indeed, I believe I was in
danger of leaning towards romance in describing scenes which had
particularly impressed my imagination or interested my feelings, and of
attempting to imitate, with too rash and unadvised a pencil, the fervour
of a Mrs. Radcliffe, although to catch the peculiar charm and spirit of
her style I felt to be (for me) impossible. But notwithstanding that I
still remember with complacence the time when the vivid imagination of
very early youth procured me the enjoyment of a thousand bright and
lovely illusions, and cast a sort of fairy splendour over existence
which was certainly more bewitching than many realities that I have
since met with, I at present feel (as better becomes me) more inclined
to worship at the sober shrine of reason and judgment. This, it will be
easily conceived, was likely to render my Tour a more faithful picture,
than if it had been undertaken some years ago, and I can safely affirm,
that I commenced it with a determination to observe all things without
prejudice of any sort, not even that of nationality; for prejudice is
still the same irrational and unworthy feeling, in every shape and under
every name. I was much hurried at the time of writing this Journal; but
a greater degree of subsequent leisure has enabled me to add some few
notes which may, I hope, amuse and interest my readers. In these I
acknowledge with gratitude the occasional assistance of a partial
friend.
_April, 1819._