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Shart shut the Boor good John! Satigud Isaid
Tye up the Knocker, say I'm sick I'm dead.

Ep to Arbuthnod

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TO

The first publication of this Epistle.

THIS paper is a fort of bill of complaint, begun many years

fince, and drawn up by fnatches, as the feveral occafions offered. i had no thoughts of publifhing it, till it pleafed fome Perfons of Rank and Fortune (the Authors of Verses to the Imitator of Horace, and of an Epistle to a Dector of Divinity from a Nobleman at Hampton Court) to attack, in a very extraordinary manner, not anly my Writings (of which, being public, the Public is judge) but my Perfon, Morals, and Family, whereof, to those who know me not, a truer information may be requifite. Being divided between the neceffity to fay fomething of myself, and my own laziness to undertake fo awkward a task, I thought it the fhorreft way to put the laft hand to this Epiftle. If it have any thing pleafing, it will be that by which I am most defirous to please, the Truth and the Sentiment; and if any thing offenfive, it will be only to those I am leaft forry to offend, the vicious or the tongenerous.

Many will know their own pictures in it, there being not a circumftance but what is true; but I have, for the most part, spared their Names, and they may escape being laughed at, if they please.

I would have fome of them know, it was owing to the request of the learned and candid Friend to whom it is infcribed, that i make not as free ufe of theirs as they have done of mine. However, I fhall have this advantage and honour, on my fide, that whereas, by their proceeding, any abufe may be directed at any man, ho injury can poffibly be done by mine, fince a nameless Character can never be found out, but by its truth and likeness.

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