Caleb Williams | Page 8

work has
hitherto recorded them. If I have hold them truly, I have added
somewhat to the stock of books which should enable a recluse, shut up
in his closet, to form an idea of what is passing in the world. It is
inconceivable, meanwhile, how much, by this choice of a subject, I
increased the arduousness of my task. It is so easy to do, a little better,
or a little worse, what twenty authors have done before! If I had
foreseen from the first all the difficulty of my project, my courage
would have failed me to undertake the execution of it.
Certain persons, who condescend to make my supposed inconsistencies
the favourite object of their research, will perhaps remark with
exultation on the respect expressed in this work for marriage, and
exclaim, "It was not always thus!" referring to the pages in which this
subject is treated in the "Enquiry concerning Political Justice" for the
proof of their assertion. The answer to this remark is exceedingly
simple. The production referred to in it, the first foundation of its
author's claim to public distinction and favour, was a treatise, aiming to
ascertain what new institutions in political society might be found more
conducive to general happiness than those which at present prevail. In
the course of this disquisition it was enquired whether marriage, as it
stands described and supported in the laws of England, might not with
advantage admit of certain modifications. Can anything be more
distinct than such a proposition on the one hand and a recommendation
on the other that each man for himself should supersede and trample
upon the institutions of the country in which he lives? A thousand
things might be found excellent and salutary, if brought into general
practice, which would in some cases appear ridiculous, and in others be
attended with tragical consequences, if prematurely acted upon by a
solitary individual. The author of "Political Justice," as appears again
and again in the pages of that work, is the last man in the world to
recommend a pitiful attempt, by scattered examples, to renovate the
face of society, instead of endeavouring, by discussion and reasoning,
to effect a grand and comprehensive improvement in the sentiments of
its members.

* * * * *

VOLUME THE FIRST.

CHAPTER I.
My life has for several years been a theatre of calamity. I have been a
mark for the vigilance of tyranny, and I could not escape. My fairest
prospects have been blasted. My enemy has shown himself inaccessible
to entreaties, and untired in persecution. My fame, as well as my
happiness, has become his victim. Every one, as far as my story has
been known, has refused to assist me in my distress, and has execrated
my name. I have not deserved this treatment. My own conscience
witnesses in behalf of that innocence, my pretensions to which are
regarded in the world as incredible. There is now, however, little hope
that I shall escape from the toils that universally beset me. I am incited
to the penning of these memoirs only by a desire to divert my mind
from the deplorableness of my situation, and a faint idea that posterity
may by their means be induced to render me a justice which my
contemporaries refuse. My story will, at least, appear to have that
consistency which is seldom attendant but upon truth.
I was born of humble parents, in a remote county of England. Their
occupations were such as usually fall to the lot of peasants, and they
had no portion to give me, but an education free from the usual sources
of depravity, and the inheritance, long since lost by their unfortunate
progeny! of an honest fame. I was taught the rudiments of no science,
except reading, writing, and arithmetic. But I had an inquisitive mind,
and neglected no means of information from conversation or books.
My improvement was greater than my condition in life afforded room
to expect.
There are other circumstances deserving to be mentioned as having
influenced the history of my future life. I was somewhat above the
middle stature. Without being particularly athletic in appearance, or
large in my dimensions, I was uncommonly vigorous and active. My
joints were supple, and I was formed to excel in youthful sports. The

habits of my mind, however, were to a certain degree at war with the
dictates of boyish vanity. I had considerable aversion to the boisterous
gaiety of the village gallants, and contrived to satisfy my love of praise
with an unfrequent apparition at their amusements. My excellence in
these respects, however, gave a turn to my meditations. I delighted to
read of feats of activity, and was particularly interested by tales in
which corporeal ingenuity or strength are the