HAVING now brought this Work (through so many Shelves of the Ocean and rugged Rocks of Antiquity,) safe into the Harbour: Nothing now remains, but that, like the Mariners of old, who us’d to dedicate their tatter’d Sails, or a votive Plank, to Neptune, I also consecrate something to the Almighty, and to Venerable Antiquity ** He seems to mean the History-Lecture, which he settled in Oxford.. A Vow, which I most willingly make; and which, by the blessing of God, I hope to discharge in due time. In the mean while, let me desire the Reader to consider, that through this whole Work I have been struggling with that malicious and devouring Enemy, Time; of which the Greek Poet has this admirable passage,
Old Time moves slowly, though he knows no stay,
And steals our Voices as he creeps away.
Unseen himself, he hides from mortal view
Things that are seen, and Things unseen does shew.
However, I comfort my self with that Distich of Mimnermus, which I know by experience to be true:
Oblectes animum, plebs est morosa legendo,
Ille benè de te dicet, at ille malè.
E’en rest contented; for thoul’t ever find,
Thy Labours some will blame, and some commend.
Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:52