Right now I'm working on another book, and I always think about the matter of dedication. I love this one---might just steal it!
LOGAN:
A FAMILY HISTORY
by
JOHN NEAL (1822)
"I do not dedicate my
book to any body; for I know nobody worth dedicating it to. I have no friends,
no children, no wife, no home; -- no relations, no well-wishers; -- nobody to
love, and nobody to care for. To whom shall I; to whom can I dedicate it? To my
Maker! It is unworthy of him. To my countrymen? They are unworthy of me. For
the men of past ages I have very little veneration; for those of the present,
not at all. To whom shall I entrust it? Who will care for me, by to-morrow? Who
will do battle for my book, when I am gone? Will posterity? Yea, posterity will
do me justice. To posterity then – to the winds! I bequeath it! I devote it --
as a Roman would his enemy, to the fierce and unsparing charities of another
world – to a generation of spirits – to the shadowy and crowned potentates of
hereafter. I—I—I have done – the blood of the red man is growing cold –
farewell – farewell forever!"
Read the full text here.
