lowances, the other will be brought to no acknowledgments *.

I am afraid this extreme zeal on both fides is ill-placed; Poetry and Criticism being by no means the univerfal concern of the world, but only the affair of idle men who write in their clofets, and of idle men who read there.

Yet fure, upon the whole, a bad Author deserves better ufage than a bad Critic: for a Writer's endeavour, for the most part, is to please his Readers, and he fails merely through the misfortune of an ill judgment; but such a Critic's is to put them out of humour; a defign he could never go upon without both that and an ill temper.

I think a good deal may be faid to extenuate the fault of bad Poets. What we call a Genius, is hard to be distinguished by a man himself, from a strong inclination: and if his genius be ever so great, he cannot at first discover it any other way, than by giving way to that prevalent propenfity which renders him the more liable to be mistaken. The only method he has, is to make the experiment by writing, and appealing to the judgment of others: now if he happens to write ill (which is certainly no fin in itself) he is immediately made an object of

* In the former editions it was thus-For as long as one fide defpifes a well-meant endeavour, the other will not be fatif fied with a moderate approbation. But the Author altered it, as thefe words were rather a confequence from the conclufion he would draw, than the conclufion itself, which he has now inferted.

I

tidicule. I wish we had the humanity to reflect that even the worst authors might, in their endeavour to please us, deferve fomething at our hands. We have no cause to quarrel with them but for their obstinacy in persisting to write; and this too may admit of alleviating circumstances. Their particular friends may be either ignorant, or infincere; and the reft of the world in general is too well-bred to fhock them with a truth, which generally their Bookfellers are the first that inform them of. This happens not till they have spent too much of their time to apply to any profeffion which might better fit their talents; and till fuch talents as they have are so far difcredited as to be but of small service to them. For (what is the hardest cafe imaginable) the reputation of a man generally depends upon the first steps he makes in the world; and people will establish their opinion of us, from what we do at that season when we have least judgment to direct us.

On the other hand, a good Poet no fooner communicates his works with the fame defire of information, but it is imagined he is a vain young creature given up to the ambition of fame; when perhaps the poor man is all the while trembling with the fear of being ridiculous. If he is made to hope he may please the world, he falls under very unlucky circumstances: for, from the moment he prints, he must expect to

hear no more truth, than if he were a Prince, or a Beauty. If he has not very good sense (and indeed there are twenty men of wit, for one man of fenfe) his living thus in a course of flattery may put him in no fmall danger of becoming a Coxcomb: if he has, he will consequently have fo much diffidence as not to reap any great fatisfaction from his praife; fince, if it be given to his face, it can scarce be distinguished from flattery, and if in his absence, it is hard to be certain of it. Were he fure to be commended by the best and most knowing, he is as fure of being envied by the worst and most ignorant, which are the majority; for it is with a fine Genius as with a fine fashion, all those are difpleased at it who are not able to follow it: and it is to be feared that esteem will feldom do any man fo much good, as ill-will does him harm. Then there is a third class of people, who make the largest part of mankind, those of ordinary or indifferent capacities; and these (to a man) will hate, or fufpect him: a hundred honest Gentlemen will dread him as a Wit, and a hundred innocent women as a Satirift. In a word, whatever be his fate in Poetry, it is ten to one but he must give up all the reasonable aims of life for it. There are indeed fome advantages accruing from a Genius to Poetry, and they are all I can think of: the agreeable power of selfamusement when a man is idle or alone; the

privilege of being admitted into the best company; and the freedom of faying as many careless things as other people, without being fo feverely remarked upon.

I believe, if any one, early in his life, should contemplate the dangerous fate of authors, he would fcarce be of their number on any confideration. The life of a Wit is a warfare upon earth; and the present spirit of the learned world is fuch, that to attempt to ferve it (any way) one must have the conftancy of a martyr, and a refolution to fuffer for its fake. I could wish people would believe, what I am pretty certain they will not, that I have been much less concerned about Fame than I durft declare till this occafion, when methinks I fhould find more credit than I could heretofore: fince my writings have had their fate already, and it is too late to think of prepoffeffing the reader in their favour. I would plead it as some merit in me, that the ' world has never been prepared for thefe Trifles by Prefaces, byaffed by recommendation, dazled with the names of great Patrons, wheedled with fine reasons and pretences, or troubled with excufes. I confefs it was want of confideration that made me an author; I writ because it amufed me; I corrected because it was as pleasant to me to correct as to write; and I published because I was told, I might please such as it was a credit to please. To what degree I have done

this, I am really ignorant; I had too much fondnefs for my productions to judge of them at first, and too much judgment to be pleased with them at last. But I have Reason to think they can have no reputation which will continue long, or which deferves to do fo: for they have always fallen fhort not only of what I read of others, but even of my own Ideas of Poetry.

If any one should imagine I am not in earnest, I defire him to reflect, that the Ancients (to say the least of them) had as much Genius as we: and that to take more pains, and employ more time, cannot fail to produce more compleat pieces. They constantly apply'd themselves not only to that art, but to that fingle branch of an art, to which their talent was most powerfully bent; and it was the business of their lives to correct and finish their works for pofterity. If we can pretend to have used the same industry, let us expect the fame immortality: Tho' if we took the fame care, we fhould ftill lie under a farther misfortune: they writ in languages that became univerfal and everlafting, while ours are extremely limited both in extent and in duration. A mighty foundation for our pride! when the utmoft we can hope, is but to be read in one Island, and to be thrown afide at the end of one Age.

All that is left us is to recommend our produc-. tions by the imitation of the Ancients: and it will be found true, that in every age, the highest