No, I’ll not say a word about it⸺here it is;—in publishing it—I have appealed to the world⸺and to the world I leave it;—it must speak for itself.
All I know of the matter is—when I sat down, my intent was to write a good book; and as far as the tenuity of my understanding would hold out—a wise, aye, and a discreet—taking care only, as I went along, to put into it all the wit and the judgment (be it more or less) which the great Author and Bestower of them had thought fit originally to give me⸻so that, as your worships see—’tis just as God pleases.
Now, Agelastes (speaking dispraisingly) sayeth, That there may be some wit in it, for aught he knows⸺but no judgment at all. And Triptolemus and Phutatorius agreeing thereto, ask, How is it possible there should? for that wit and judgment in this world never go together; inasmuch as they are two operations differing from each other as wide as east from west⸻So, says Locke ⸺so are farting and hickuping, say I. But in answer to this, Didius the great church lawyer, in his code de fartendi et illustrandi fallaciis , doth maintain and make fully appear, That an illustration is no argument⸺nor do I maintain the wiping of a looking-glass clean to be a syllogism;⸺but you all, may it please your worships, see the better for it⸻so that the main good these things do is only to clarify the understanding, previous to the application of the argument itself, in order to free it from any little motes, or specks of opacular matter, which, if left swimming therein, might hinder a conception and spoil all.
Now, my dear anti-Shandeans, and thrice able criticks, and fellow-labourers (for to you I write this Preface)⸻and to you, most subtle statesmen and discreet doctors (do—pull off your beards) renowned for