ACE.
It is said, _a book should be read with the same spirit with which it
has been written._ In that case, fatal must be the reception of this--for
the writer frankly avows, that during the time she has been writing it,
she has suffered every quality and degree of weariness and lassitude,
into which no other employment could have betrayed her.
It has been the destiny of the writer of this Story to be occupied
throughout her life, in what has the least suited either her inclination
or capacity--with an invincible impediment in her speech, it was her lot
for thirteen years to gain a subsistence by public speaking--and, with
the utmost detestation to the fatigue of inventing, a constitution
suffering under a sedentary life, and an education confined to the
narrow boundaries prescribed her sex, it has been her fate to devote a
tedious seven years to the unremitting labour of literary
productions--whilst a taste for authors of the first rank has been an
additional punishment, forbidding her one moment of those self-approving
reflections, which are assuredly due to the industrious. But, alas! in
the exercise of the arts, industry scarce bears the name of merit. What
then is to be substituted in the place of genius? GOOD FORTUNE. And if
these volumes should be attended by the good fortune that has
accompanied her other writings, to that divinity, and that alone, she
shall attribute their success.
Yet, there is a _first cause_ still, to whom I cannot here forbear to
mention my obligations.
The Muses, I trust, will pardon me, that to them I do not feel myself
obliged--for, in justice to their heavenly inspirations, I believe they
have never yet favoured me with one visitation; but sent in their
disguise NECESSITY, who, being the mother of Invention, gave me all
mine--while FORTUNE kindly smiled, and was accessory to the cheat.
But this important secret I long wished, and endeavoured to conceal; yet
one unlucky moment candidly, though unwittingly, divulged it--I frankly
owned, "That Fortune having chased away Necessity, there remained no
other incitement to stimulate me to a labour I abhorred." It happened to
be in the power of the person to whom I confided this secret, to send
NECESSITY once more. Once more, then, bowing to its empire, I submit to
the task it enjoins.
This case has something similar to a theatrical anecdote told (I think)
by Colly Cibber:
"A performer of a very mean salary, played the Apothecar
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