writer is sometimes mistaken, after all his care; but the hasty critic, who judges on a view, is full as liable to be deceived.  Let him first consider all the arguments, which the author had, to write this, or to design the other, before he arraigns him of a fault; and then, perhaps, on second thoughts, he will find his reason oblige him to revoke his censure.  Yet, after all, I will not be too positive. Homo sum, humani a me nihil alienum puto. As I am a man, I must be changeable; and sometimes the gravest of us all are so, even upon ridiculous accidents.  Our minds are perpetually wrought on by the temperament of our bodies; which makes me suspect, they are nearer allied, than either our philosophers or school-divines will allow them to be.  I have observed, says Montaigne, that when the body is out of order, its companion is seldom at his ease.  An ill dream, or a cloudy day, has power to change this wretched creature, who is so proud of a reasonable soul, and make him think what he thought not yesterday.  And Homer was of this opinion, as Cicero is pleased to translate him for us: 

  Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse
  Jupiter auctifera lustravit lampade terras.

Or, as the same author, in his “Tusculan Questions,” speaks, with more modesty than usual, of himself:  Nos in diem vivimus; quodcunque animos nostros probabilitate percussit, id dicimus. It is not therefore impossible but that I may alter the conclusion of my play, to restore myself into the good graces of my fair critics; and your lordship, who is so well with them, may do me the office of a friend and patron, to intercede with them on my promise of amendment.  The impotent lover in Petronius, though his was a very unpardonable crime, yet was received to mercy on the terms I offer. Summa excusationis meae haec est:  Placebo tibi, si culpam emendare permiseris.

But I am conscious to myself of offering at a greater boldness, in presenting to your view what my meanness can produce, than in any other error of my play; and therefore make haste to break off this tedious address, which has, I know not how, already run itself into so much of pedantry, with an excuse of Tully’s, which he sent with his books “De Finibus,” to his friend Brutus:  De ipsis rebus autem, saepenumero, Brute, vereor ne reprehendar, cum haec ad te scribam, qui tum in poesi, (I change it from philosophia) tum in optimo genere poeseos tantum processeris.  Quod si facerem quasi te erudiens, jure reprehenderer.  Sed ab eo plurimum absum:  Nec, ut ea cognoscas quae tibi notissima sunt, ad te mitto; sed quia facillime in nomine tuo acquiesco, et quia te habeo aequissimum eorum studiorum, quae mihi communia tecum sunt, aestimatorem et judicem. Which you may please, my lord, to apply to yourself, from him, who is,

  Your Lordship’s
    Most obedient,
      Humble servant,
        DRYDEN.