On the Song of Hezekiah and the going back of the Sun.

As I know well, my dear Peter, how hard it is to please the race of man, I hesitated long to comply with your request, for there be some men who cast reproach on those who choose to commit their thoughts to writing, on the ground that they immerse themselves in business, though it be in their option to abstain from all exertion and to enjoy a life of leisure and repose. Others again, since they set no value on writing, put out of sight what is laborious, and seek quiet in seclusion. Some too there be who begin to read books with unbounded eagerness, but afterwards, consigning them to utter neglect, play the part of the poor brutes that walk on all fours; while others, who are conversant with literature, do what is still worse, for in the case of new writers, aware though they be that these have reached the very pinnacle of fame, they will not condescend to peruse their works, even when they are compositions of most sterling merit. Persons again of the common sort, led by their ignorance, disparage even what is said to the purpose, and, to speak plainly, calumny is ever inventive, and has no lack of material for sneering and indulging in censorious remarks, the grounds for which envy supplies without stint.