n may appear, some literary
amusement can be gathered.

In the first place, I observe that a prefacer is generally a most
accomplished liar. Is an author to be introduced to the public? the
preface is as genuine a panegyric, and nearly as long a one, as that of
Pliny's on the Emperor Trajan. Such a preface is ringing an alarum bell
for an author. If we look closer into the characters of these masters of
ceremony, who thus sport with and defy the judgment of their reader, and
who, by their extravagant panegyric, do considerable injury to the cause
of taste, we discover that some accidental occurrence has occasioned this
vehement affection for the author, and which, like that of another kind of
love, makes one commit so many extravagances.

Prefaces are indeed rarely sincere. It is justly observed by Shenstone, in
his prefatory Essay to the "Elegies," that "discourses prefixed to poetry
inculcate such tenets as may exhibit the performance to the greatest
advantage. The fabric is first raised, and the measures by which we
are to judge of it are afterwards adjusted." This observation might be
exemplified by more instances than some readers might choose to read. It
will be sufficient to observe with what art both Pope and Fontenelle have
drawn up their Essays on the nature of Pastoral Poetry, that the rules
they wished to establish might be adapted to their own pastorals. Has
accident made some ingenious student apply himself to a subordinate branch
of literature, or to some science which is not highly esteemed--look in
the preface for its sublime panegyric. Collectors of coins, dresses, and
butterflies, have astonished the world with eulogiums which would raise
their particular studies into the first ranks of philosophy.

It would appear that there is no lie to which a prefacer is not tempted. I
pass over the commodious prefaces of Dryden, which were ever adapted to
the poem and not to poetry, to the author and not to literature.

The boldest preface-liar was Aldus Manutius, who, having printed an
edition of Aristophanes, first published in the preface that Saint
Chrysostom was accustomed to place this comic poet under his pillow, that
he might always have his works at hand. As, in that age, a saint was
supposed to possess every human talent, good taste not excepted,
Aristophanes thus recommended became a general favourite. The anecdote
lasted for nearly two centuries; and what was of greater consequence to
Aldus, quicke