obtrude any crude, hasty, or indigested notions on the publick, I have
proceeded with the utmost degree of diffidence and caution; I have
frequently reviewed all my arguments, traced them backwards to their
first principles, and used every method of examination to discover,
whether all the deductions were natural and just, and whether I was not
imposed on by some specious fallacy; but the farther I carried my
inquiries, and the longer I dwelt upon this great point, the more was I
convinced, in spite of all my prejudices, that this wonderful prediction
was not written by a king.

For, after a laborious and attentive perusal of histories, memoirs,
chronicles, lives, characters, vindications, panegyricks and epitaphs, I
could find no sufficient authority for ascribing to any of our English
monarchs, however gracious or glorious, any prophetical knowledge or
prescience of futurity; which, when we consider how rarely regal virtues
are forgotten, how soon they are discovered, and how loudly they are
celebrated, affords a probable argument, at least, that none of them
have laid any claim to this character. For why should historians have
omitted to embellish their accounts with such a striking circumstance?
or, if the histories of that age are lost, by length of time, why was
not so uncommon an excellence transmitted to posterity, in the more
lasting colours of poetry? Was that unhappy age without a laureate? Was
there then no Young [19] or Philips [20], no Ward [21] or Mitchell [22],
to snatch such wonders from oblivion, and immortalize a prince of such
capacities? If this was really the case, let us congratulate ourselves
upon being reserved for better days; days so fruitful of happy writers,
that no princely virtue can shine in vain. Our monarchs are surrounded
with refined spirits, so penetrating, that they frequently discover, in
their masters, great qualities, invisible to vulgar eyes, and which, did
not they publish them to mankind, would be unobserved for ever.