imagination to work, and furniſh it with a grand ſtaircaſe, with cornices, ſtucco, and paintings. That is, you may ſuppoſe that I entered very unwillingly upon this work, being compelled to it by a chain of ſoft circumſtances: That it was written in the midſt of a great hurry of other buſineſs, and under particular diſadvantages of time and place, and that it was only intended for the inſpection of a few friends, without any expectation of ever ſeeing it in the Preſs.
You may, kind reader, go on to ſuppoſe that when my friends peruſed my work, they were ſtruck with the energy of my genius, and inſiſted that the public ought not to be deprived of ſuch a fund of amuſement and improvement through my obſtinate modeſty; and that after many ſolicitations and powerful perſuaſions I had been prevailed upon to bleſs mankind with the fruits of my labour.
Or, if you like not this, you may ſuppoſe that the following ſheets were found in the cabinet of ſome deceaſed gentleman; or that they were dug out of an ancient ruins, or diſcovered in a Hermit’s Cave, or dropped from the clouds in a hail ſtorm. In ſhort, you may ſuppoſe juſt what you pleaſe. And when, by the help of imagination, you have ſeaſoned the preface to your palate, you may turn over this leaf, and feaſt upon the body of the work itſelf.
