what of themselves, and in the expression of their minds, even when they feel it not, be able to utter something like theirs, which hath an authority above their own. Nay, sometimes it is the reward of a man's study, the praise of quoting another man fitly and though a man be more prone and able for one kind of writing than another, yet he must exercise all. For, as in an instrument, so in style, there must be a harmony, and consent of parts.

I take this labour in teaching others, that they should not be always to be taught: and I would bring my precepts into practice. For rules are ever of less force and value than experiments. Yet with this purpose, rather to shew the right way to those that come after, than to detect any that have slipt before by error, and I hope it will be more profitable. For men do more willingly listen, and with more favour to precept, than reprehension. Among divers opinions of an art, and most of them contrary in themselves, it is hard to make election; and therefore, though a man cannot invent new things after so many, he may do a welcome work yet to help posterity to judge rightly of the old. But arts and precepts avail nothing, except nature be beneficial and aiding. And therefore, these things be no more written to a dull disposition, than rules of husbandry to a [barren?] soil.

*

Custom is the most certain mistress of language,

as the public stamp makes the current money. But we must not be too frequent with the mint, every day coining. Nor fetch words from the extreme and utmost ages; since the chief virtue of a style is perspicuity, and nothing so vicious in it as to need an interpreter. Words borrowed of antiquity do lend a kind of majesty to style, and are not without their delight sometimes. For they have the authority of years, and out of their intermission do win themselves a kind of grace-like newness. But the eldest of the present, and newness of the past language, is the best. For what was the ancient language which some men so doat upon, but the ancient custom? Yet when I name custom, I understand not the vulgar custom: for that were a precept no less dangerous to language, than life, if we should speak or live after the manners of the vulgar: but that I call custom of speech, which is the consent of the learned: a custom of life, which is the consent of the good. Virgil was most loving of antiquity, yet how rarely doth he insert aquai and pictai! Lucretius is scabrous and rough in these; he seeks them as some do Chaucerisms with us, which were better expunged and banished. Some words are to be culled out for ornament and colour, as we gather flowers to strew houses, or make garlands; but they are better when they grow to our style; as in a meadow, where

though the mere grass and greenness delight, yet the variety of flowers doth heighten and beautify. Marry, we must not play, or riot too much with them, as in Paronomasies: nor use too swelling or ill-sounding words; quæ per salebras, altaque saxu cadunt. It is true, there is no sound but shall find some lovers, as the bitterest confections are grateful to some palates. Our composition must be more accurate in the beginning and end, than in the midst; and in the end more than in the beginning; for through the midst the stream bears us. And this is attained by custom more than care or diligence. We must express readily and fully, not profusely. There is difference between a liberal and prodigal hand. As it is a great point of art, when our matter requires it, to enlarge and veer out all sail: so, to take it in and contract it, is of no less praise, when the argument doth ask it. Either of them hath their fitness in the place. A good man always profits by his endeavour, by his help; yea, when he is absent; nay, when he is dead, by his example and memory. So good authors in their style. A strict and succinct style is that, where you can take away nothing without loss, and that loss to be manifest. brief style is that which expresseth much in little. The concise style which expresseth not enough, but leaves somewhat to be understood. The abrupt style

The

which hath many breaches, and doth not seem to end, but fall. The congrument and harmonious fitting of parts in a sentence, hath almost the fastening, and force of knitting and connexion: as in stones well-squared, which will rise strong a great way without mortar. Periods are beautiful when they are not too long; for so they have their strength too, as in a pike or javelin. As we must take the care that our words and sense be clear; so if the obscurity happen through the hearer's or reader's want of understanding, I am not to answer for them; no more than for their not listening or marking; I must neither find them ears, nor mind. But a man cannot put a word so in fence, but something about it will illustrate it, if the writer understand himself. For order helps much to perspicuity, as confusion hurts. Rectitudo lucem adfert; obliquitas et circumductio offuscat. We should, therefore, speak what we can, the nearest way, so as we keep our gate, not leap for too short may as well be not let into the memory, as too long not kept in. Whatsoever looseth the grace and clearness, converts into a riddle; the obscurity is marked, but not the value. That perisheth and is past by, like the pearl in the fable. Our style should be like a skein of silk, to be carried, and found by the right thread, not ravelled and perplexed; then all is a knot, a heap. There are words,

:

that do as much raise a style, as others can depress it. Superlation and over-muchness amplifies. It may be above faith, but never above a mean. It was ridiculous in Cestius, when he said of Alexander :

Fremit oceanus, quasi indignetur, quòd terras relinquas; but propitiously from Virgil:

-credas innare revulsas Cycladas.

Al

He doth not say it was so, but seemed to be so. though it be somewhat incredible, that is excused before it be spoken. But there are hyperboles, which will become one language, that will by no means admit another. As Eos esse P. R. exercitus, qui cœlum possint perrumpere: who would say with us, but a bad man. Therefore, we must consider in every tongue what is used, what received. Quintilian warns us, that in no kind of translation, or metaphor, or allegory, we make a turn from what we began: as if we fetch the original of our metaphor from sea and billows, we end not in flames and ashes: it is a most foul inconsequence. Neither must we draw out our allegory too long, lest either we make ourselves obscure, or fall into affectation, which is childish. But why do men depart at all from the right and natural ways of speaking? Sometimes