us of disobliging the captious Reader, may produce you true
Grammar, and unexceptionable_ Prosodia, _but most stupid Poetry._
In vitium culpae ducit fuga, si caret arte.
_A slavish Fear of committing an Oversight, betrays a Man to more
inextricable Errours, than the Boldness of an enterprizing Author, whose
artful Carelesness is more instructive and delightful than all the Pains
and Sweat of the Poring and Bookish Critick._
_Some Failings, like Moles in a beautiful Countenance, take nothing from
the Charms of a happy Composure, but rather heighten and improve their
Value. Were our modern Reflecters Masters of more Humanity than
Learning, and of more Discernment than both, the Authors of the Past and
Present Ages, would have no reason to complain of Injustice; nor would
that Reflection be cast upon the_ best-natur'd Nation _in the World,
that, when rude and ignorant, we were unhospitable to Strangers, and
now, being civiliz'd, we expend our Barbarity on one another_. Homer
_would not be so much the Ridicule of our_ Beaux Esprits; _when, with
all his Sleepiness, he is propos'd as the most exquisite Pattern of
Heroic Writing, by the Greatest of Philosophers, and the Best of Judges.
Nor is_ Longinus _behind hand with_ Aristotle _in his Character of the
same Author, when he tells us that the Greatness of_ Homer's _Soul
look'd above little Trifles (which are Faults in meaner Capacities) and
hurry'd on to his Subject with a Freedom of Spirit peculiar to himself.
A Racer at_ New-market _or the_ Downs, _which has been fed and drest,
and with the nicest Caution prepared for the Course, will stumble
perhaps at a little Hillock; while the Wings of_ Pegasus _bear him o'er
Hills and Mountains,_
Sub pedibusq; videt nubes & sydera--
_Such was the Soul of_ Homer: _who is more justly admir'd by those who
understand him, than he is derided by the Ignorant: Whose Writings
partake as much of that Spirit, as he attributes to the Actions of his_
Heroes; _and whose Blindness is more truly chargeable on his_ Criticks,
_than on_ Himself: _who, as he wrote without a Rule, was himself a Rule
to succeeding Ages. Who as much deserves that Commendation which_
Alcibiades _gave to_ Socrates, _when he compar'd him to the Statues of
the_ Sileni, _which to look upon, had nothing beautiful and ornamental;
but open them, and there you might discover the Images of all the Gods
and Goddesses._
_Who knows the secret Springs of the Soul, and tho
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