What Vanity is this! Did it ever appear more conspicuous in the Writings of any one? The worthy Gentleman who is appointed to preside over the _British_ Muses, hath been frequently accused of being a perfect Master in this Art; nay, so far indeed does it extenuate the Crime, that he acknowledges the Foible. He has long been allowed to reign sole Monarch of the Realms of _Effrontery_ and _Vanity_; but in you, Sir, let him dread a formidable _Rival_. The positively pronouncing a Thing quite perfect, and the only good one of its Kind upon your meer _ipse Dixi_, is something so novel, and tacitly calling all Fools who shall dare to swerve from that Opinion, gives it such an Air of Consequence and assur'd Success, as may prevail on many, who search no farther than the Surface to believe it to _be_ what it is _represented_; but to Persons who may be as _sensible_, tho' perhaps not so bigotted to an Opinion, as the Editor, it must only afford Matter for Laughter and Ridicule. If it is not ludicrous, (tho' what can be too light a Counterpoise for such frothy Affectation!) I once met with a Story from an honest Country Man, which seems very applicable to the Case in Question. A Doctor, says the Farmer, once did us the Honour of a Visit at our Village, he appeared in all the Ornament of Dress necessary to excite Curiosity in simple unmeaning Clowns, he began his Harangue, by inveighing bitterly against the Errors and Tricks of his Brother Practitioners, their Advice was deficient, their Drugs unwholsome, and instead of healing, they did but taint the Body; he only prescribed what was proper, and his Arcanum was the grand Restorative of Health then _first published_, with a salutary Design of confirming the whole Country's Health to the utter Ruin of all Physicians, Apothecaries, _&c._ Name what Disease you would, his little Pill was an immediate and sovereign Remedy. During the Doctor's Oration there appear'd behind him a surly Sort of a Fellow, dress'd in all the Accoutrements that could be collected together to make him look terrible, yet through all, you might discern a sly leering Grin: No sooner had the Doctor pronounced his Nostrum universal, but _Andrew_ (for he, it seems, was the formidable Hero in Disguise) advancing forward with an Air military flourishes his broad Sword over his Head; and being mildly ask'd by the Doctor, what was the Occasion of that tremendous Visage, he boldly answered----_to Kill any one that dare dispute it_. Thus you, Sir, as _Editor_ stand boldly a _Swiss_ at your own Portal, to invite in your Friends with recommendatory Letters, and hard strain'd complemental Rhimes to yourself as _Author_, to usher your doughty Performance into the World.