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 those sudden Emotions, which excite illustrious Men, to act and speak out of the Common Road? They seem irregular to Us by reason of the Fondness and Bigottry we pay to Custom, which is no Standard to the Brave and the Wise.  The Rules we receive in our first Education, are laid down with this Purpose, to restrain the Mind; which by reason of the Tenderness of our Age and the ungovernable Disposition of Young Nature, is apt to start out into Excess and Extravagance.  But when Time has ripen’d