But, as we have a higher opinion of the candour of our readers, than to believe that they will condemn us without examination, or give up their right of judging for themselves, we are not unconcerned at this charge, though the most atrocious and malignant that can be brought against us.  We entreat only to be compared with our rivals, in full confidence, that not only our innocence, but our superiority will appear[1].

FOOTNOTE: 

[1] These prefaces are written with that warmth of zeal which
    characterizes all Johnson’s efforts in behalf of his friends.  He
    ever retained a grateful sense of the kindness shown to him by Cave,
    his earliest patron; and, when engaged in his undertakings, he
    regarded Cave’s enemies or opposers as his own.  We can only thus
    vindicate his contemptuous references to the UNIVERSAL SPECTATOR,
    which, though far inferior to that great work whose name it bears,
    is very respectable; nor, on any other consideration, can we account
    for his derision of COMMON SENSE, a periodical, enriched by the
    contributions of lord Chesterfield and lord Lyttelton; or of the
    CRAFTSMAN, which was conducted by Amhurst, the able associate of
    Bolingbroke and Pulteney.  Neither can we, without thus considering
    his relative situation, acquit Johnson of inconsistency in his
    strictures, who, in 1756, himself undertook the editorship of the
    LITERARY MAGAZINE, a work which might be viewed as the most
    formidable rival of the GENTLEMAN’S MAGAZINE.  The full details of
    his connexion with this now venerable publication are given in the
    preface to the index of that work, published by Mr. Nichols.—­Ed.

LETTER ON FIREWORKS.[1]

MR. URBAN,

Among the principal topicks of conversation which now furnish the places of assembly with amusement, may be justly numbered the fireworks, which are advancing, by such slow degrees, and with such costly preparation.

The first reflection, that naturally arises, is upon the inequality of the effect to the cause.  Here are vast sums expended, many hands, and some heads, employed, from day to day, and from month to month; and the whole nation is filled with expectations, by delineations and narratives.  And in what is all this to end? in a building, that is to attract the admiration of ages? in a bridge, which may facilitate the commerce of future generations? in a work of any kind, which may stand as the model of beauty, or the pattern of virtue?  To show the blessings of the late change of our state[2] by any monument of these kinds, were a project worthy not only of wealth, and power, and greatness, but of learning, wisdom, and virtue.  But nothing of this kind is designed; nothing more is projected, than a crowd, a shout, and a blaze:  the mighty work of artifice and contrivance