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To that most enlightened Phalanx, the Reviewers
of Great Britain, greeting.
Unlike the herd of venal writers, who prostitute their wits in order to ensure those panegyrics which are not their due, I thus present myself before ye, fully determined to advance nothing but the naked truth; for what class of literary men exists so immaculate as yourselves? Were I to place the smallest reliance upon those acrimonious and vilifying epithets which are incessantly bestowed upon you, I should then deem it necessary to cast the sop to Cerberus, by forwarding a copy of this production gratis to every scribe among you.