Chapter i.
Showing what kind of a history this is; what it is like, and what itis not like.
Though we have properly enough entitled this our work, a history, andnot a life; nor an apology for a life, as is more in fashion; yet weintend in it rather to pursue the method of those writers, who professto disclose the revolutions of countries, than to imitate the painfuland voluminous historian, who, to preserve the regularity of hisseries, thinks himself obliged to fill up as much paper with thedetail of months and years in which nothing remarkable happened, as heemploys upon those notable aeras when the greatest scenes have beentransacted on the human stage.
Such histories as these do, in reality, very much resemble anewspaper, which consists of just the same number of words, whetherthere be any news in it or not. They may likewise be compared to astage coach, which performs constantly the same course, empty as wellas full. The writer, indeed, seems to think himself obliged to keepeven pace with time, whose amanuensis he is; and, like his master,travels as slowly through centuries of monkish dulness, when the worldseems to have been asleep, as through that bright and busy age sonobly distinguished by the excellent Latin poet--
_Ad confligendum venientibus undique poenis, Omnia cum belli trepido concussa tumultu Horrida contremuere sub altis aetheris auris; In dubioque fuit sub utrorum regna cadendum Omnibus humanis esset, terraque marique._
Of which we wish we could give our readers a more adequate translationthan that by Mr Creech--
When dreadful Carthage frighted Rome with arms, And all the world was shook with fierce alarms; Whilst undecided yet, which part should fall, Which nation rise the glorious lord of all.
Now it is our purpose, in the ensuing pages, to pursue a contrarymethod. When any extraordinary scene presents itself (as we trust willoften be the case), we shall spare no pains nor paper to open it atlarge to our reader; but if whole years should pass without producinganything worthy his notice, we shall not be afraid of a chasm in ourhistory; but shall hasten on to matters of consequence, and leave suchperiods of time totally unobserved.
These are indeed to be considered as blanks in the grand lottery oftime. We therefore, who are the registers of that lottery, shallimitate those sagacious persons who deal in that which is drawn atGuildhall, and who never trouble the public with the many blanks theydispose of; but when a great prize happens to be drawn, the newspapersare presently filled with it, and the world is sure to be informed atwhose office it was sold: indeed, commonly two or three differentoffices lay claim to the honour of having disposed of it; by which, Isuppose, the adventurers are given to understand that certain brokersare in the secrets of Fortune, and indeed of her cabinet council.
My reader then is not to be surprized, if, in the course of this work,he shall find some chapters very short, and others altogether as long;some that contain only the time of a single day, and others thatcomprise years; in a word, if my history sometimes seems to standstill, and sometimes to fly. For all which I shall not look on myselfas accountable to any court of critical jurisdiction whatever: for asI am, in reality, the founder of a new province of writing, so I am atliberty to make what laws I please therein. And these laws, myreaders, whom I consider as my subjects, are bound to believe in andto obey; with which that they may readily and cheerfully comply, I dohereby assure them that I shall principally regard their ease andadvantage in all such institutions: for I do not, like a _jure divino_tyrant, imagine that they are my slaves, or my commodity. I am,indeed, set over them for their own good only, and was created fortheir use, and not they for mine. Nor do I doubt, while I make theirinterest the great rule of my writings, they will unanimously concurin supporting my dignity, and in rendering me all the honour I shalldeserve or desire.