[figure description] Page 206.[end figure description]

I am aware that I shall incur the censure of numerous
very learned and judicious critics, for indulging too frequently
in the bold excursive manner of my favourite
Herodotus. And to be candid, I have found it impossible
always to resist the allurements of those pleasing
episodes which, like flowery banks and fragrant bowers,
beset the dusty road of the historian, and entice him to
turn aside and refresh himself from his wayfaring. But
I trust it will be found that I have always resumed my
staff, and addressed myself to my weary journey with
renovated spirits, so that both my readers and myself have
been benefited by the relaxation.

Indeed, though it has been my constant wish and
uniform endeavour to rival Polybius himself, in observing
the requisite unity of History, yet the loose and
unconnected manner in which many of the facts herein
recorded have come to hand, rendered such an attempt
extremely difficult. This difficulty was likewise increased
by one of the grand objects contemplated in my work,
which was to trace the rise of sundry customs and institutions
in this best of cities, and to compare them when in
the germ of infancy with what they are in the present old
age of knowledge and improvement.

But the chief merit on which I value myself, and
found my hopes for future regard, is that faithful veracity
with which I have compiled this invaluable little
work; carefully winnowing away the chaff of hypothesis,
and discarding the tares of fable, which are too apt
to spring up and choke the seeds of truth and wholesome
knowledge.—Had I been anxious to captivate the
superficial throng, who skim like swallows over the surface
of literature; or had I been anxious to commend my
writings to the pampered palates of literary epicures—
I might have availed myself of the obscurity that over-shadows
the infant years of our city, to introduce a thousand
pleasing fictions. But I have serupulously discarded
many a pithy tale and marvellous adventure, whereby
the drowsy air of summer indolence might be enthralled;
jealously maintaining that fidelity, gravity, and dignity
which should ever distinguish the historian.

p222-212

Previous section

Next section