The Memoirs of Psalmanazar

The Memoirs

I cannot better begin this melancholy account of my former life, vile and abominable as it hath been, and blended with such mixture of the most unaccountable pride, folly, and stupid villainy, in opposition to reason, religion, and all checks of conscience, till almost to the thirtieth year of my age, than by humbly acknowledging the infinite mercy of God, not only in preserving me so long from the many evils and disasters which my own wicked rashness must else unavoidably have precipitated me into, as the sequel will sufficiently show; but much more so in that gradual and visible change which his grace wrought in me, by enabling me frequently to retrospect with shame and remorse on a life so basely spent, to send up the most fervent wishes to heaven that I might at length break off from so shameful and wicked a course of the vilest and most scandalous imposture, that a wild and abandoned youth could be guilty of, and that I might but be blessed with such a steady resolution as at once publicly to disclaim all the lies and forgeries I had formerly published in that monstrous romance, and at any rate or risk to take the shame to myself, and make a free confession of the whole imposture. But I had not only my pride to combat, but the displeasure which such a declaration would give to all my friends, who being very honest and religious, could not but have taken it much at heart, and, perhaps, been exposed to the censure of the world for their charitable opinion of me; to say nothing of the abhorrence they must have conceived against so detestable a cheat. As these therefore were such powerful determents to a man wholly destitute of any laudable way of living, I could not expect that my earnest wishes would be speedily answered; and my only hope was, that the same gracious God, who had thus effectually awaked me to a sense of my guilt and danger, would also in his own time hear those prayers which himself had inspired me to make, especially, as upon a retrospection of my past follies, I was apt to comfort myself with the thoughts, that the violence of my favourite passion, pride, could never have hurried me so irresistibly through such scenes of folly and danger, if there had not been some sad flaw in my understanding, some unavoidable degree of madness in my temper, which might in some measure extenuate, if not wholly excuse, the atrocious guilt it had involved me in; and the hope that it might still be placed to that account, by a merciful Judge of all our thoughts and intents, of our frail and corrupt nature, joined to the steadfast confidence I had in the promises of the Gospel, and in the infinite merits of a divine Saviour, preserved me from despairing of mercy and pardon, of success and blessing on those happy beginnings, if closely and earnestly pursued.

But as such a hope, without a sincere desire of doing one's part, to the best of one's power, and according to the degree of assistance given from above, would rather deserve the name of rash and shameful presumption; so the next step I took, at least in view, was to set about making all possible reparation to God and his church, and to the world, and my own conscience, for the scandal which such a vile piece of hypocrisy must have given to all, especially to good men, and in spite of all reluctance from pride and self-love, which the greater it was, would the more naturally lead one to the throne of mercy for a proportionable supply of Divine grace, and patiently to wait for it in God's own proper time. I had not continued many months in this hopeful disposition, before I perceived all those difficulties and discouragements to vanish by degrees, but more especially at the approach of a severe disease, though lingering, and the apprehensions of death, which last, as it did not appear to be so near at hand, gave me room to hope I might have time sufficient granted me in mercy, to go through this faithful narrative, and undeceive the world; so that if the Divine Providence did think fit to drive me to the writing of it by his afflicting hand, I hope it will rather add weight to the credit of it, seeing no time is fitter than this to inspire a man with the deepest seriousness and sincerity. But as to me, I still more rely on the assistance of that spirit of truth, to whose special grace I am bound to ascribe the abhorring sense I had already conceived against my former guilt, as well as the earnest desire and resolution of transmitting to the world such an account of my past guilty life, as might wholly contradict and explode that false and impious one, which I had been induced to publish in the days of my abominable folly and vanity. Under that Divine Guide therefore I set myself immediately about it, and carried on daily, and with as much application as my disease (a very violent ague and fever) would permit, not doubting but the sincerity which I resolved, by God's assistance, should reign through the whole, would make some amends for the lowness of style, and other imperfections, which, considering my weakly condition both of mind and body, were in some measure unavoidable. Thus far I thought necessary to apprise the reader concerning the (happy, I hope I have reason to call it) occasion of my writing the following account, which in the name, and under the direction of that same God of truth, I now hope to live to see finished, in order to be printed, if thought worthy of it, after my death; and I shall only add, that I am at this present time of writing (April 22, 1728) at a friend's house in the country, free from all study and business, or any other impediment, but what is caused by my distemper, and shall dedicate all the time I have to spare in the writing of it.