as ignorant men are very subject
to decry those beauties in a celebrated work which they have not eyes
to discover. Many of our sons of Momus, who dignify themselves by the
name of critics, are the genuine descendants of these two illustrious
ancestors. They are often led into these numerous absurdities in which
they daily instruct the people, by not considering that, first, there
is sometimes a greater judgment shown in deviating from the rules of
art than in adhering to them; and, secondly, that there is more beauty
in the works of a great genius, who is ignorant of all the rules of
art, than in the works of a little genius, who not only knows but
scrupulously observes them.

First, we may often take notice of men who are perfectly acquainted
with all the rules of good writing, and notwithstanding choose to
depart from them on extraordinary occasions. I could give instances
out of all the tragic writers of antiquity who have shown their
judgment in this particular; and purposely receded from an established
rule of the drama, when it has made way for a much higher beauty
than the observation of such a rule would have been. Those who have
surveyed the noblest pieces of architecture and statuary, both ancient
and modern, know very well that there are frequent deviations from
art in the works of the greatest masters, which have produced a much
nobler effect than a more accurate and exact way of proceeding could
have done. This often arises from what the Italians call the _gusto
grande_ in these arts, which is what we call the sublime in writing.

In the next place, our critics do not seem sensible that there is more
beauty in the works of a great genius, who is ignorant of the rules of
art, than in those of a little genius who knows and observes them. It
is of those men of genius that Terrence speaks in opposition to the
little artificial cavillers of his time:

"Quorum aemulari expotat negligentiam
Potius quam istorum obscuram diligentiam."
AND. PROL. 20.

"Whose negligence he would rather imitate, than these men's obscure
diligence."

A critic may have the same consolation in the ill success of his play
as Dr. South tells us a physician has at the death of a patient,
that he was killed _secundum artem_. Our inimitable Shakespeare is a
stumbling-block to the whole tribe of these rigid critics. Who would
not rather read one of his plays, where there is not a single rule of
the stage observed, than any product