72. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 73. Mr. Villars to Evelina
Chapter 74. Lady Belmont to Sir John Belmont
Chapter 75. Evelina to the Rev. Mr. Villars
Chapter 76. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 77. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 78. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 79. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 80. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 81. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 82. Evelina in Continuation
Chapter 83. Mr. Villars to Evelina
Chapter 84. Evelina to the Rev. Mr. Villars
TO DR. BURNEY
Oh, Author of my being! — far more dear
To me than light, than nourishment, or rest,
Hygeia’s blessings, Rapture’s burning tear,
Or the life-blood that mantles in my breast!
If in my heart the love of Virtue glows,
’T was planted there by an unerring rule;
From thy example the pure flame arose,
Thy life, my precept — thy good works, my school.
Could my weak pow’rs thy num’rous virtues trace,
By filial love each fear should be repress’d,
The blush of Incapacity I’d chace,
And stand, Recorder of thy worth, confess’d:
But since my niggard stars that gift refuse,
Concealment is the only boon I claim;
Obscure be still the unsuccessful Muse,
Who cannot raise, but would not sink, thy fame.
Oh! of my life at once the source and joy!
If e’er thy eyes these feeble lines survey,
Let not their folly their intent destroy;
Accept the tribute — but forget the lay.
DEDICATION
TO THE AUTHORS OF THE MONTHLY AND CRITICAL REVIEWS
Gentlemen, The liberty which I take in addressing to you the trifling production of a few idle hours, will doubtless move your wonder, and probably your contempt. I will not, however, with the futility of apologies, intrude upon your time, but briefly acknowledge the motives of my temerity; lest, by a premature exercise of that patience which I hope will befriend me, I should lessen its benevolence, and be accessary to my own condemnation.
Without name, without recommendation, and unknown alike to success and disgrace, to whom can I so properly apply for patronage, as to those who publicly profess themselves Inspectors of all literary performances?
The extensive plan of your critical observations — which, not confined to works of utility or ingenuity, is equally open to those of frivolous amusement — and, yet worse than frivolous, dullness — encourages me to seek for your protection, since — perhaps for my sins! — it intitles me to your annotations. To resent, therefore, this offering, however insignificant, would ill become the universality of your undertaking; though not to despise it may, alas! be out of your power.
The language of adulation, and the incense of flattery, though the natural inheritance, and constant resource, from time immemorial, of the Dedicator, to me offer nothing but the wistful regret that I dare not invoke their aid. Sinister views would be imputed to all I could say; since, thus situated, to extol your judgment, would seem the effect of art, and to celebrate your impartiality, be attributing to suspecting it.
As magistrates of the press, and Censors for the public — to which you are bound by the sacred ties of integrity to exert the most spirited impartiality, and to which your suffrages should carry the marks of pure, dauntless, irrefragable truth — to appeal to your MERCY, were to solicit your dishonour; and therefore — though ’tis sweeter than frankincense — more grateful to the senses than all the odorous perfumes of Arabia — and though
It droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath —
I court it not! to your justice alone I am intitled, and by that I must abide. Your engagements are not to the supplicating authors; but to the candid public, which will not fail to crave
The penalty and forfeit of your bond.
No hackneyed writer, inured to abuse, and callous to criticism, here braves your severity; — neither does a half-starved garretteer,
Oblig’d by hunger — and request of friends —
implore your lenity: your examination will be alike unbiassed by partiality and prejudice; — no refractory murmuring will follow your censure, no private interest will be gratified by your praise.
Let not the anxious solicitude with which I recommend myself to your notice, expose me to your derision. Remember, Gentlemen, you were all young writers once, and the most experienced veteran of your corps may, by recollecting his first publication, renovate his first terrors, and learn to allow for mine. For though Courage is one of the noblest virtues of this nether sphere; and though scarcely more requisite in the field of battle, to guard the fighting hero from disgrace, than in the private commerce of the world, to ward off that littleness of soul which leads, by steps imperceptible, to all the base train of the inferior passions, and by which the too timid mind is betrayed into a
