Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1 — John Shaqi
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1Scott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
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 Caesar to
the Autobiography of Alexander the Corrector.
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
gentleman, but too much occupied with graver business to thank me
for indicating him more plainly as a confidant of my childish
mystery.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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