Those indeed of more modern date, seem all to be written on the
same three topics, viz., an abuse of the taste of the town, a
condemnation of all contemporary authors, and an eulogium on the
performance just about to be represented. The sentiments in all
these are very little varied, nor is it possible they should; and
indeed I have often wondered at the great invention of authors, who
have been capable of finding such various phrases to express the
same thing.
In like manner, I apprehend, some future historian (if any one shall
do me the honour of imitating my manner) will, after much scratching
his pate, bestow some good wishes on my memory, for having first
established these several initial chapters; most of which, like modern
prologues, may as properly be prefixed to any other book in this
history as to that which they introduce, or indeed to any other
history as to this.
But however authors may suffer by either of these inventions, the
reader will find sufficient emolument in the one as the spectator hath
long found in the other.
First, it is well known that the prologue serves the critic for an
opportunity to try his faculty of hissing, and to tune his catcall
to the best advantage; by which means, I have known those musical
instruments so well prepared, that they have been able to play in full
concert at the first rising of the curtain.
The same advantages may be drawn from these chapters, in which the
critic will be always sure of meeting with something that may serve as
a whetstone to his noble spirit; so that he may fall with a more
hungry appetite for censure on the history itself.
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