IT
is the fate of those, who toil at the lower employments
of life, to be rather driven by the fear of evil,
than attracted by the prospect of good; to be exposed
to censure, without hope of praise; to be disgraced
by miscarriage, or punished for neglect, where success
would have been without applause, and diligence without
reward.
Among
these unhappy mortals is the writer of dictionaries;
whom mankind have considered, not as the pupil, but
the slave of science, the pioneer of literature, doomed
only to remove rubbish and clear obstructions from
the paths of Learning and Genius, who press forward
to conquest and glory, without bestowing a smile on
the humble drudge that facilitates their progress.
Every other authour may aspire to praise; the lexicographer
can only hope to escape reproach, and even this negative
recompence has been yet granted to very few.
I
have, notwithstanding this discouragement, attempted
a dictionary of the English language, which, while
it was employed in the cultivation of every species
of literature, has itself been hitherto neglected;
suffered to spread, under the direction of chance,
into wild exuberance; resigned to the tyranny of time
and fashion; and exposed to the corruptions of ignorance
and caprices of innovation.
When
I took the first survey of my undertaking, I found
our speech copious without order, and energetick without
rules; wherever I turned my view, there was perplexity
to be disentangled, and confusion to be regulated;
choice was to be made out of boundless variety, without
any established principle of selection; adulterations
were to be detected, without a settled test of purity;
and modes of expression to be rejected or received,
without the suffrages of any writers of classical
reputation or acknowledged authority…