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There is a kind of physiognomy in the titles of books no less than in the faces of men, by which a skilful observer will as well know what to expect from the one as the other.
PRELUDE OF MOTTOES.
SEE here, see here, a Doctor rare,
Come take his pills,-they cure all ills,
Past, present, and to come.
Take a little of his nif-naf,
Put it on your tif-taf.
THE BISHOPRICK GARLAND.
Quod virgo proba, quod stolata mater,
Quod purus positá severitate
Jam post pulpita perlegat sacerdos.
T. L. ON SIR WM. KILLIGREW'S SELINDra.
I entered on this work certainly with considerable materials, and since engaging in it, in reading, in thinking, in correcting and improving, I have proportioned my labours to my undertaking. Every step I advanced, I did but more clearly see how much farther I might go. Here too readers and some writers may be reminded of the effect produced by finding VOL. V b