with implicit veneration; and criticks ought never
to be consulted, but while errours may yet be rectified
or insipidity suppressed. But when the book
has once been dismissed into the world, and can be
no more retouched, I know not whether a very different
conduct should not be prescribed, and whether
firmness and spirit may not sometimes be of use to
overpower arrogance and repel brutality. Softness,
diffidence, and moderation, will often be mistaken
for imbecility and dejection; they lure cowardice
to the attack by the hopes of easy victory, and it
will soon be found that he whom every man thinks
he can conquer, shall never be at peace.

The animadversions of criticks are commonly
such as may easily provoke the sedatest writer to
some quickness of resentment and asperity of reply.
A man, who by long consideration has familiarized
a subject to his own mind, carefully surveyed the
series of his thoughts, and planned all the parts of
his composition into a regular dependance on each
other, will often start at the sinistrous interpretations
or absurd remarks of haste and ignorance, and
wonder by what infatuation they have been led
away from the obvious sense, and upon what peculiar
principles of judgment they decide against him.

The eye of the intellect, like that of the body, is
not equally perfect in all, nor equally adapted in
any to all objects; the end of criticism is to supply