pon a doubtful Passage in a _Latin_ Poet, I have only been
informed, that such or such Ancient Manuscripts for an _et_ write an
_ac_, or of some other notable Discovery of the like Importance. Indeed,
when a different Reading gives us a different Sense, or a new Elegance
in an Author, the Editor does very well in taking Notice of it; but when
he only entertains us with the several ways of spelling the same Word,
and gathers together the various Blunders and Mistakes of twenty or
thirty different Transcribers, they only take up the Time of the learned
Reader, and puzzle the Minds of the Ignorant. I have often fancied with
my self how enraged an old _Latin_ Author would be, should he see the
several Absurdities in Sense and Grammar, which are imputed to him by
some or other of these various Readings. In one he speaks Nonsense; in
another, makes use of a Word that was never heard of: And indeed there
is scarce a Solecism in Writing which the best Author is not guilty of,
if we may be at Liberty to read him in the Words of some Manuscript,
which the laborious Editor has thought fit to examine in the Prosecution
of his Work.

I question not but the Ladies and pretty Fellows will be very curious to
understand what it is that I have been hitherto talking of. I shall
therefore give them a Notion of this Practice, by endeavouring to write
after the manner of several Persons who make an eminent Figure in the
Republick of Letters. To this end we will suppose that the following
[Song [1]] is an old Ode which I present to the Publick in a new
Edition, with the several various Readings which I find of it in former
Editions, and in Ancient Manuscripts. Those who cannot relish the
various Readings, will perhaps find their Account in the Song, which
never before appeared in Print.

My Love was fickle once and changing,
Nor e'er would settle in my Heart;
From Beauty still to Beauty ranging,
In ev'ry Face I found a Dart.

'Twas first a charming Shape enslav'd me,
An Eye then gave the fatal Stroke;
'Till by her Wit_ Corinna _sav'd me,
And all my former Fetters broke.

But now a long and lasting Anguish
For_ Belvidera _I endure;
Hourly I Sigh and hourly Languish,
Nor hope to find the wonted Cure.

For here the false unconstant Lover,
After a thousand Beauties shown,
Does new surprizing Charms discover,
And finds Variety in One.

Various Readings.

Stanza the First, Vers