Second Preface
to the same
When, amidst various literary pursuits, I first applied
my mind to the compilation of history, I determined, lest I
should appear ungrateful to my native land, to describe, to
the best of my abilities, my own country and its adjoining
regions; and afterwards, under God's guidance, to proceed to
a description of more distant territories. But since some
leading men (whom we have both seen and known) show so great
a contempt for literature, that they immediately shut up
within their book-cases the excellent works with which they
are presented, and thus doom them, as it were, to a
perpetual imprisonment; I entreat you, illustrious Prelate,
to prevent the present little work, which will shortly be
delivered to you, from perishing in obscurity. And because
this, as well as my former productions, though of no
transcendent merit, may hereafter prove to many a source of
entertainment and instruction, I entreat you generously to
order it to be made public, by which it will acquire
reputation. And I shall consider myself sufficiently
rewarded for my trouble, if, withdrawing for a while from
your religious and secular occupations, you would kindly
condescend to peruse this book, or, at least, give it an
attentive hearing; for in times like these, when no one
remunerates literary productions, I neither desire nor
expect any other recompense. Not that it would appear in any
way inconsistent, however there exists among men of rank a
kind of conspiracy against authors, if a prelate so
eminently conspicuous for his virtues, for his abilities,
both natural and acquired, for irreproachable morals, and
for munificence, should distinguish himself likewise by
becoming the generous and sole patron of literature. To
comprise your merits in a few words, the lines of Martial
addressed to Trajan, whilst serving under Dioclesian, may be
deservedly applied to you:
"Laudari debes quoniam sub principe duro,
Temporibusque malis, ausus es esse bonus."
And those also of Virgil to Mecaenas, which extol the
humanity of that great man:
"Omnia cum possis tanto tam clarus amico,
Te sensit nemo posse nocere tamen."
Many indeed remonstrate against my proceedings, and those
particularly who call themselves my friends insist that, in
consequence of my violent attachment to study, I pay no
attention to the concerns of the world, or to the interests
of my family; and that, on this account, I shall experience
a delay in my promotion to worldly dignities; that the
influence of authors, both poets and historians, has long
since ceased; that the respect paid to literature vanished
with literary princes; and that in these degenerate days
very different paths lead to honours and opulence. I allow
all this, I readily allow it, and acquiesce in the truth.
For the unprincipled and covetous attach themselves to the
court, the churchmen to their books, and the ambitious to
the public offices, but as every man is under the influence
of some darling passion, so the love of letters and the
study of eloquence have from my infancy had for me peculiar
charms of attraction. Impelled by this thirst for knowledge,
I have carried my researches into the mysterious works of
nature farther than the generality of my contemporaries, and
for the benefit of posterity have rescued from oblivion the
remarkable events of my own times. But this object was not
to be secured without an indefatigable, though at the same
time an agreeable, exertion; for an accurate investigation
of every particular is attended with much difficulty. It is
difficult to produce an orderly account of the investigation
and discovery of truth; it is difficult to preserve from the
beginning to the end a connected relation unbroken by
irrelevant matter; and it is difficult to render the
narration no less elegant in the diction, than instructive
in its matter, for in prosecuting the series of events, the
choice of happy expressions is equally perplexing, as the
search after them painful. Whatever is written requires the
most intense thought, and every expression should be
carefully polished before it be submitted to the public eye;
for, by exposing itself to the examination of the present
and of future ages, it must necessarily undergo the
criticism not only of the acute, but also of the
dissatisfied, reader. Words merely uttered are soon
forgotten, and the admiration or disgust which they
occasioned is no more; but writings once published are never
lost, and remain as lasting memorials either of the glory or
of the disgrace of the author. Hence the observation of
Seneca, that the malicious attention of the envious reader
dwells with no less satisfaction on a faulty than on an
elegant expression, and is as anxious to discover what it
may ridicule, as what it may commend; as the poet also
observes:
"Discit enim citius meminitque libentius
illud
Quod quis deridet, quam quod probat et veneratur."
Among the pursuits, therefore, most worthy of
commendation, this holds by no means the lowest rank; for
history, as the moral philosopher declares, "is the record
of antiquity, the testimony of ages, the light of truth, the
soul of memory, the mistress of conduct, and the herald of
ancient times."
This study is the more delightful, as it is more
honourable to produce works worthy of being quoted than to
quote the works of others; as it is more desirable to be the
author of compositions which deserve to be admired than to
be esteemed a good judge of the writings of other men; as it
is more meritorious to be the just object of other men's Z
than to be considered an adept in pointing out the merits of
others. On these pleasing reflections I feed and regale
myself; for I would rather resemble Jerome than Croesus, and
I prefer to riches themselves the man who is capable of
despising them. With these gratifying ideas I rest contented
and delighted, valuing moderation more than intemperance,
and an honourable sufficiency more than superfluity; for
intemperance and superfluity produce their own destruction,
but their opposite virtues never perish; the former vanish,
but the latter, like eternity, remain for ever; in short, I
prefer praise to lucre, and reputation to riches.
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