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Impatiens animus, nec adhuc traâabilis afte,
No. 62, st. pAul's cHuRcH-YARD; -
I a Review were considered as a Lottery, it is to be feared that the taste of modern readers would reverse the order of blanks and prizes; and the wheel would be accounted rich, not when it contained a recommendation of many works of learning, elegance, or utility; but when it was well supplied with books of which the authors were clearly proved to have wasted their time, and their publishers and purchasers, their money. Those are the prizes for which modern candour. is willing to buy into the Literary Lottery; in which it seeks, not the means of improvement, but the food for ridicule: not to know from what authors it may gain instrućtion, but how many it may hold in contempt. As if, when the Critic had beaten out a poor writer's
brains, it was the same as giving an equal quan
tity to the reader; who feels a conscious superiority over every author he is taught to laugh at. It is in dire&t defiance of this newly-established taste, that we continue to draw up our half yearly prefaces, from which all such prizes are by their very plan excluded; and in which the reader is taught nothing more interesting than where to find wisdom, and how to purchase improvement or rational amusement. Perverse as it is, we cannot yet be convinced that it is not patriotic, and shall therefore, for the present, proceed as usual.