But where's the man who counsel can bestow,
Still pleased to teach, and yet not proud to know?
Unbiased, or by favor, or in spite,
Not dully prepossessed, nor blindly right;
Though learned, well-bred, and though well bred, sincere,
Modestly bold, and humanly severe,
Who to a friend his faults can freely show,
And gladly praise the merit of a foe?
Blessed with a taste exact, yet unconfined;
A knowledge both of books and human kind;
Generous converse, a soul exempt from pride;
And love to praise, with reason on his side?

Such once were critics such the happy few,
Athens and Rome in better ages knew.
The mighty Stagirite first left the shore, [645]
Spread all his sails, and durst the deeps explore;
He steered securely, and discovered far,
Led by the light of the Maeonian star. [648]
Poets, a race long unconfined and free,
Still fond and proud of savage liberty,
Received his laws, and stood convinced 'twas fit,
Who conquered nature, should preside o'er wit. [652]

Horace still charms with graceful negligence,
And without method talks us into sense;
Will like a friend familiarly convey
The truest notions in the easiest way.
He who supreme in judgment as in wit,