ery man that was
inclined to read it, for years and ages; and that his book relates to a
people, who, above all others, have furnished employment to the
studious, and amusements to the idle; who have scarcely left behind them
a coin or a stone, which has not been examined and explained a thousand
times; and whose dress, and food, and household stuff, it has been the
pride of learning to understand.

A man need not fear to incur the imputation of vicious diffidence or
affected humility, who should have forborne to promise many novelties,
when he perceived such multitudes of writers possessed of the same
materials, and intent upon the same purpose. Mr. Blackwell knows well
the opinion of Horace, concerning those that open their undertakings
with magnificent promises; and he knows, likewise, the dictates of
common sense and common honesty, names of greater authority than that of
Horace, who direct, that no man should promise what he cannot perform.

I do not mean to declare, that this volume has nothing new, or that the
labours of those who have gone before our author, have made his
performance an useless addition to the burden of literature. New works
may be constructed with old materials; the disposition of the parts may
show contrivance; the ornaments interspersed may discover elegance.

It is not always without good effect, that men, of proper
qualifications, write, in succession, on the same subject, even when the
latter add nothing to the information given by the former; for the same
ideas may be delivered more intelligibly or more delightfully by one
than by another, or with attractions that may lure minds of a different
form. No writer pleases all, and every writer may please some.

But, after all, to inherit is not to acquire; to decorate is not to
make; and the man, who had nothing to do but to read the ancient
authors, who mention the Roman affairs, and reduce them to common
places, ought not to boast himself as a great benefactor to the studious
world.

After a preface of boast, and a letter of flattery, in which he seems to
imitate the address of Horace, in his "vile potabis modicis Sabinum"--he
opens his book with telling us, that the "Roman republic, after the
horrible proscription, was no more at _bleeding Rome_. The regal power
of her consuls, the authority of her senate, and the majesty of her
people, were now trampled under foot; these [for those] divine laws and
hallowed customs, that had been the