understand in a literal sense, and suppose our author must mean that
whoever designs to be a perfect writer must inspect into the books
of critics, and correct his inventions there as in a mirror. Now,
whoever considers that the mirrors of the ancients were made of
brass and fine mercurio, may presently apply the two principal
qualifications of a true modern critic, and consequently must needs
conclude that these have always been and must be for ever the same.
For brass is an emblem of duration, and when it is skilfully
burnished will cast reflections from its own superficies without any
assistance of mercury from behind. All the other talents of a
critic will not require a particular mention, being included or
easily deducible to these. However, I shall conclude with three
maxims, which may serve both as characteristics to distinguish a
true modern critic from a pretender, and will be also of admirable
use to those worthy spirits who engage in so useful and honourable
an art.

The first is, that criticism, contrary to all other faculties of the
intellect, is ever held the truest and best when it is the very
first result of the critic's mind; as fowlers reckon the first aim
for the surest, and seldom fail of missing the mark if they stay not
for a second.

Secondly, the true critics are known by their talent of swarming
about the noblest writers, to which they are carried merely by
instinct, as a rat to the best cheese, or a wasp to the fairest
fruit. So when the king is a horseback he is sure to be the
dirtiest person of the company, and they that make their court best
are such as bespatter him most.