Containing scenes of matrimonial
felicity in different degrees of
life; and various other transactions
during the first two years
after the marriage between captain
Blifil and miss Bridget Allworthy.
Showing what kind of a history this is; what it is
like, and what it is not like.
Though we have properly enough entitled this our work,
a history, and not a life; nor an apology for a life,
as is more in fashion; yet we intend in it rather
to pursue the method of those writers, who profess
to disclose the revolutions of countries, than to imitate
the painful and voluminous historian, who, to preserve
the regularity of his series, thinks himself obliged
to fill up as much paper with the detail of months
and years in which nothing remarkable happened, as
he employs upon those notable aeras when the greatest
scenes have been transacted on the human stage.
Such histories as these do, in reality, very much
resemble a newspaper, which consists of just the same
number of words, whether there be any news in it or
not. They may likewise be compared to a stage
coach, which performs constantly the same course, empty
as well as full. The writer, indeed, seems to
think himself obliged to keep even pace with time,
whose amanuensis he is; and, like his master, travels
as slowly through centuries of monkish dulness, when
the world seems to have been asleep, as through that
bright and busy age so nobly 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 translation than 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 contrary method. When any extraordinary scene
presents itself (as we trust will often be the case),
we shall spare no pains nor paper to open it at large
to our reader; but if whole years should pass without
producing anything worthy his notice, we shall not
be afraid of a chasm in our history; but shall hasten
on to matters of consequence, and leave such periods
of time totally unobserved.
