PREFACE
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE
Of all kinds of satire, there is none so entertaining and universally
improving, as that which is introduced, as it were occasionally,
in the course of an interesting story, which brings every incident
home to life, and by representing familiar scenes in an uncommon and
amusing point of view, invests them with all the graces of novelty,
while nature is appealed to in every particular. The reader
gratifies his curiosity in pursuing the adventures of a person in
whose favour he is prepossessed; he espouses his cause, he sympathises
with him in his distress, his indignation is heated against the
authors of his calamity: the humane passions are inflamed; the
contrast between dejected virtue and insulting vice appears with
greater aggravation, and every impression having a double force
on the imagination, the memory retains the circumstance, and the
heart improves by the example. The attention is not tired with a
bare catalogue of characters, but agreeably diverted with all the
variety of invention; and the vicissitudes of life appear in their
peculiar circumstances, opening an ample field for wit and humour.
Romance, no doubt, owes its origin to ignorance, vanity, and
superstition. In the dark ages of the World, when a man had rendered
himself famous for wisdom or valour, his family and adherents availed
themselves of his superior qualities, magnified his virtues, and
represented his character and person as sacred and supernatural.
The vulgar easily swallowed the bait, implored his protection, and
yielded the tribute of homage and praise, even to adoration; his
exploits were handed down to posterity with a thousand exaggerations;
they were repeated as incitements to virtue; divine honours were
paid, and altars erected to his memory, for the encouragement of
those who attempted to imitate his example; and hence arose the
heathen mythology, which is no other than a collection of extravagant
romances. As learning advanced, and genius received cultivation,
these stories were embellished with the graces of poetry, that they
might the better recommend themselves to the attention; they were
sung in public, at festivals, for the instruction and delight of
the audience; and rehearsed before battle, as incentives to deeds
of glory. Thus tragedy and the epic muse were born, and, in the
progress of taste, arrived at perfection. It is no wonder that the
ancients could not relish a fable in prose, after they had seen
so many remarkable events celebrated in verse by their best poets;
we therefore find no romance among them during the era of their
excellence, unless the Cyropaedia of Xenophon may be so called;
and it was not till arts and sciences began to revive after the
irruption of the barbarians into Europe, that anything of this kind
appeared. But when the minds of men were debauched by the imposition
of priestcraft to the most absurd pitch of credulity, the authors
of romance arose, and losing sight of probability, filled their
performances with the most monstrous hyperboles. If they could not
equal the ancient poets in point of genius. they were resolved to
excel them in fiction, and apply to the wonder, rather than the
judgment, of their readers. Accordingly, they brought necromancy to
their aid, and instead of supporting the character of their heroes