e ostentation,
malevolence, and supercilious temper, that so often blemish men of that
character. His remarks result from the nature and reason of things, and
are formed by a judgment free, and unbiassed by the authority of those
who have lazily followed each other in the same beaten track of
thinking, and are arrived only at the reputation of acute grammarians
and commentators; men, who have been copying one another many hundred
years, without any improvement; or, if they have ventured farther, have
only applied in a mechanical manner the rules of ancient criticks to
modern writings, and, with great labour, discovered nothing but their
own want of judgment and capacity. As Mr. Johnson penetrates to the
bottom of his subject, by which means his observations are solid and
natural, as well as delicate, so his design is always to bring to light
something useful and ornamental; whence his character is the reverse to
theirs, who have eminent abilities in insignificant knowledge, and a
great felicity in finding out trifles. He is no less industrious to
search out the merit of an author, than sagacious in discerning his
errors and defects; and takes more pleasure in commending the beauties,
than exposing the blemishes of a laudable writing; like Horace, in a
long work, he can bear some deformities, and justly lay them on the
imperfection of human nature, which is incapable of faultless
productions. When an excellent drama appears in publick, and by its
intrinsick worth attracts a general applause, he is not stung with envy
and spleen; nor does he express a savage nature, in fastening upon the
celebrated author, dwelling upon his imaginary defects, and passing over
his conspicuous excellencies. He treats all writers upon the same
impartial footing; and is not, like the little criticks, taken up
entirely in finding out only the beauties of the ancient, and nothing
but the errors of the modern writers. Never did any one express more
kindness and good-nature to young and unfinished authors; he promotes
their interests, protects their reputation, extenuates their faults, and
sets off their virtues, and, by his candour, guards them from the
severity of his judgment. He is not like those dry criticks, who are
morose because they cannot write themselves, but is himself master of a
good vein in poetry; and though he does not often employ it, yet he has
sometimes entertained his friends with his unpublished performances."

The rest of t