most part what is done well by someone else. Therefore I confess
that I, with shameless temerity, but out of love of faith, have run
the risk of being criticized by judges whom I do not know because,
when they find that I have taken up this project with a vow to
correct a previous work, they may value the second less than the
first. Since we see a passion for grammar everywhere, and we know
that the discipline, because of the number of scholars that now exist,
is now open to the worst students, it would be horrid thing not to
write, even if we write only as we are able, and not as we should,
about this glory of our time, or even to leave the story hidden in
the scabbiness of artless speech. I have seen what God has done in
these times--miracles greater than any he has ever performed--and now
I see a gem of this kind lying in the lowest dust. Impatient with
such contemptuous treatment, I have taken care, with whatever
eloquence I have, to clean what was given over to neglect more
preciously than any gold. I have not boldly done this entirely on my
own initiative, but I have faithfully promised others, who were eager
for this to be done. Some asked that I write in prose; but most
asked that it be done in meter, since they knew that I had, in my
youth, performed more elementary exercises in verse than I should
have. Older and more responsible, however, I thought that it should
not be done with words designed to be applauded, or with the clatter
of verse; but I thought, if I may dare to say this, that it deserved
being told with greater dignity than all the histories of Jewish
warfare, if God would grant someone the ability to do this. I do not
deny that I set my mind to writing after the capture of Jerusalem,
when those who had taken part in the expedition began to return; but
because I did not want to be importunate, I put the task off.
However, because, with the permission (I do not know if it is in
accordance with the will) of God, the chance to carry out my wishes