DEDICATIONTOSIR THOMAS DICK LAUDEROF GRANGE AND FOUNTAINHALL, BARONET.
DEDICATIONTOSIR THOMAS DICK LAUDER
OF GRANGE AND FOUNTAINHALL, BARONET.
Honoured Sir,
I amnot much acquainted with what Goldsmith has termed the ceremonies of a dedication. I know, however, that like other ceremonies, they are sometimes a little tedious, and often more than a little insincere. But it is well that, though dulness be involuntary, no one need deceive unless he wills it. There are comparatively few who seem born to think vigorously, or to express themselves well; but since all men may be honest, though all cannot be original or elegant, every one, surely, may express only what he feels. In dedicating this little volume to you, I obey the dictates of a real, though perhaps barren, gratitude; nor can I think of the kind interest which you have taken in my amusements as a writer, and my fortunes as a man, without feeling that, though I may be dull, I cannot be insincere.
There are other motives which have led to this address. He who dedicates, more than expresses his gratitude. By his choice of a Patron, he intimates also, as if by specimen, the class which he would fain select as his readers; or, as I should perhaps rather express myself, he specifies the peculiar cast of intellect and range of acquirement from which he anticipates the justest appreciation of his labours, and the deepest interest in the subject of them. Need I say that I regard you, SirThomas, as a representative of the class whom it is most my ambition to please? My stories, arranged as nearly as possible in the chronological order, form a long vista into the past of Scotland, with all its obsolete practices and all its exploded beliefs. And where shall I find one better qualified to decide regarding the truth of the scenery, the justness of the perspective, or the proportions and costume of the figures, than he whom contemporary genius has so happily designated as the “Poet and Painter of the great Morayshire Floods?” I can form no higher wish than that my work may prove worthy of so discerning a critic, or that you, Sir, may be as fortunate in yourprotégéas I in my patron.
I am, I trust, nohypocritein literature, but a right-hearted devotee to whom composition is quite its own reward. If my little volume succeed, I shall be gratified by reflecting that the pleasure derived from it has not been confined to myself; if it fail, there will be some comfort in the thought that it has proved, to at least one mind, a copious source of entertainment. Besides, I am pretty sure, I shall be sanguine enough to transfer to some production of the future, the few hopes which, in the past, I had founded on it. And when thinking of it as the “poor deceased,” I reflect that, at worst, it was rather dull than wicked, and that it rather failed in performance than erred in intention; I shall not judge the less tenderly regarding it, when I further remember that it procured for me the honour of your notice, and furnished me with this opportunity of subscribing myself,
Honoured Sir,With sincere respect,Your humble friend, and obedient Servant,THE AUTHOR.
Cromarty, 1834.
Cromarty, 1834.