Printed for _John Morphew, _near Stationers Hall. 1713. Price 6d.
THE PREFACE.[2]
MR. MORPHEW,
Your care in putting an advertisement in the EXAMINER has been of great use to me. I do now send you my Preface to the B——p of S——r——m's INTRODUCTION to his third volume, which I desire you to print in such a form, as in the bookseller's phrase will make a sixpenny touch; hoping it will give such a public notice of my design, that it may come into the hands of those who perhaps look not into the B——p's Introduction. I desire you will prefix to this a passage out of Virgil, which does so perfectly agree with my present thoughts of his L——dsh——p, that I cannot express them better, nor more truly, than those words do.
I am, Sir,
Your most humble servant,
G. MISOSARUM.
[Footnote 1: Mr. Nichols quotes from the "Speculum Sarisburianum," "That the frequent and hasty repetitions of such prefaces and introductions, no less than three new ones in about one year's time, beside an old serviceable one republished concerning persecution—are preludes to other practical things, beside pastoral cares, sermons, and histories." [T. S.]
[Footnote 2: This preface "to the bookseller" is in imitation of the bishop's own preface to the bookseller in the "Introduction," which was signed "G. Sarum." [T. S.]
This way of publishing introductions to books that are, God knows when, to come out, is either wholly new, or so long unpractised, that my small reading cannot trace it. However we are to suppose, that a person of his Lordship's great age and experience, would hardly act such a piece of singularity without some extraordinary motives. I cannot but observe, that his fellow-labourer, the author of the paper called The Englishman,[3] seems, in some of his late performances, to have almost transcribed the notions of the Bishop: these notions, I take to have been dictated by the same masters, leaving to each writer that peculiar manner of expressing himself, which the poverty of our language forces me to call their style. When the Guardian changed his title, and professed to engage in faction, I was sure the word was given, that grand preparations were making against next sessions; that all advantages would be taken of the little dissensions reported to be among those in power; and that the Guardian would soon be seconded by some other piqueerers[4] from the same camp. But I will confess, my suspicions did not carry me so far as to conjecture that this venerable champion would be in such mighty haste to come into the field, and serve in the quality of an enfant perdu,[5] armed only with a pocket pistol, before his great blunderbuss could be got ready, his old rusty breastplate scoured, and his cracked headpiece mended.