The first part of the elementarie vvhich entreateth chefelie of the right writing of our English tung, set furth by Richard Mulcaster.

THE PERORATION To my gentle readers & good cuntriemen VVHEREIN MANIE THINGS AR HANDLED, CONCERNING LEAR∣ning in generall, and the natur of the english and fo∣ren tungs, besides som particularities concer∣ning the penning of this and other books in English.

MY good cuntriemen and gentle readers, you cannot possiblie haue axie more certain argument of the great desire, which I haue to please you, and the earnest care, which I haue to win your liking, then this verie speche directed vnto you, and that of set

purpos. For if I had trusted vnto my self alone, and had thought mine own iudgement sufficient enough, to have bene the rule of my right writing, which when I had pleased, I should nede no further care, to content anie other, I might haue spared this pains in re∣quiring your frindship, and have left curtesie to som hope, tho it were in som hasard, which seing I do not, but sew for your fauor and frindlie construction, my earnest care in sewing therefor, as in me it voids contempt of your iudgement, and confidence in mine own, so in you it maie work curtesie, and a fauorable minde towards a man so affected, and so desirous to please you, as I dont not but it will, seing care is my sollicitor, and curtisie yours. If I feared not that inconue∣uience which commonlie enseweth, where two speak in an vnknown tung, and the third standing by thinks himself despised, bycause he vnderstands not, I wold haue sollicited my request in the latin tung, bycause the kinde of people, which I reuerence most, and whose frindlie opinion I do couet most, both desireth and deliteth to be dealt with in that tung, as being learned themselues. But the vnlearned stander by must help with a smile, and is therefor to vnderstand the matter which is handled. Wherefor to content both, by contemning neither, I will go on in that tung wherein I first began, and by a mean known to both, seke frindship of both: seing my desire is, as to profit the ignorant, so to please the cunning. But before I do moue anie particular request to anie or all of you my good cuntrimen, I must nedes enform you in the state of my cause, that perceiuing all circumstances you maie yeild with more fauor, when the motion shalbe made.

The verie first cause, which moued me first to deal in this argu∣ment, * 1.1 and to venter vpon the print, whereof I stood in aw for a long time, and neuer durst com near it, till now of late, was to do som good in that trade onelie, wherein I haue trauelled these manie years, and by vttering my experience in the train to learned tungs, to lighten other mens labor, bycause I had espied som defects that waie, which craued som supply. But the consideration thereof be∣ing once entered my head, did sprede a great deal further then I dreamed on at the first, and wrought in me the like impres∣sion, for the right teaching of the learned tungs, that the in∣quirie * 1.2 for iustice in things of common life did somtime work in that renouned Plato. For Plato seking to define Iustice, and

what that is, which we call right in ciuill doing, could not de∣uise how to set them down in certain, by waie of definition, by∣càuse theie were respectiue, and stood vpon circumstance in re∣gard to other, before he had described a form of common gouern∣ment; which when he had don, he strèight waie found out, that that was iust, which was iump with ech state, as the state was ap∣pointed, whether perfit or vnperfit (tho the perfit were the best) and that procured in the state both tranquillitie and successe, as that was vniust, which iard with the state, & proued to be an instrument of discord and decaie. The execution of the first, which preser∣ueth the state, he termed iustice: the enormitie in the second, which seketh to vndo, he called iniurie and wrong. The reason which mo∣ued him to take that course in finding out of iustice, and to make * 1.3 the anatomie of ane hole gouernment the mean, to know that rule, which leadeth ech gouernment, was, bycause the proportion, the vse, naie the verie substance of anie particular member, is ne∣uer so known, as it maie be throughlie perceiued, and precise∣lie surueied vntill the hole it self, be exactlie known, whereunto the part answereth in proportion, in vse, naie in the verie substance. Iustice concerneth euerie two, betwene whom there maie be en∣tercourse, traffik, dealing, or doing anie kind of waie, whether prince and prince, prince and subiect, or subiect and subiect, whe∣ther one with one, or one with mo, or mo with mo. Naie it tu∣cheth nearer. For where respects maie take place, there one maie do wrong to his own soul and bodie, as in pining the bodie, and en∣treating it euil, in tormenting the minde, and wringing it to the worst, contrarie to the rule of both religion and reason. Where∣for that hole bodie, which comprehendeth these circumstances, and respects in ech part, was nedelie to be described, before the parti∣cular effects, and the regiment thereof could possiblie de defined. This course took Plato and thereby found out that, which he desi∣red to know

My self entending at the first to deal but with the tungs, and the teaching thereof in the grammer school, (as he thought * 1.4 of his iustice in ciuill doings,) was likewise enforced by swaie of meditation to enter in thought of the hole course of learning, and to consider how euerie particular thing did arise in degre, one after another. For without that consideration, how could

I haue discerned where to begin, how to procedè, and where to end, in anie one thinge, which dependeth vpon a sequele, and mar∣cheth from a principle, seing the matter which I deal with, is a matter of ascent, wherein euerie particular, that goeth before hath contine wall respect to that, which cummeth after, if the hole plat be artificiallie cast? As in this course of mine, the E∣lementarie principles maie resemble the first groundwork: the tea∣ching of tungs the second stories: the after learning the vpper bil∣dings. Now as in Architecture and artificiall bilding, he were no good workmā which wold not cast his frame so, as ech of the ascents might be conformable to other: so in the degrees of learning, it were no masterlie part not to obserue the like, which cannot be obserued, before the hole be thought on, and thoroughlie fashioned in the par∣ties minde, which pretendeth the work. Plato in his platform for the finding out of iustice hath two great vantages of me. For both himself was so learned, as he is left to wonder, and his plat is in form, not fashioned for practis: whereby both his own autoritie gi∣ueth credit to his work, and his work kepes countenance, being not chekt by practis, which is able to ouerthrow euen the best medi∣tations, being vnfit for performance tho bewtifull to behold by waie of contemplation. My knowledge being but of ordinarie compas is subiect to controllmēt of euerie better learned, naie it is not exempt from the round carping, euen of the verie meanest, from whose sting not euen Plato himself was able to escape. My labor is so laid, as it professeth practis, and is so to be reproued if it bide not the per∣formance. Again his great sufficiencie laid all down at once, and gaue a full view of his hole platform, tho but in generall shew: this * 1.5 enterprise of mine cannot procede in that order, tho I could perform it as well as Plato could his bycause it mounteth still vp by waie of progression from one pece to another & multiplieth infinite bycause of varietie in parts, which kinde of attempts abideth no one form aspectable at once, as Aristotle reasoneth, bycause of first & last, which fal not in view togither at one time. Thĩgs of order be known by degrees, matters of staie ar to be sene at once, which cannot be in this argumēt, being in order of consequence, in number of multi∣tude. For when year once past the Elemētarie train, be not tungs of som number, where the learner hath desire, not to rest vpon som certain? when ye ar past the tungs, is not the after learning of infi∣nit

branches, tho the main be within compas? Wherefor as in depe∣nesse of meditation I drew like to Plato, tho in depth of iudgement but his fleting follower: So in order of deliuerie I depart from him and vtter my wares by retailing parcels, which he did ingrosse: when I had considered the generall ascending method of all learning, which while it is in getting, mounteth vp by degrees, but when it is gotten, doth sprede through out the state as sinews, veins, and arte∣ries do through a naeturall bodie, and withall maintains the state in full proportion of his best being, no lesse then the other do main∣tain the bodie, me thought I did perceiue some great blemish in the hole bodie of learning, as Plato no doubt, in the ripping vp, of right did find to be in gouernment. And as Plato himself by his own teaching did confirm his own precepts, whereby he brought forth a nūber of rare men, as euen the sharpe Aristotle, & the elo∣quent Demosthenes, and by his singular plat of chosen gouern∣ment, tho not all waie pleasing our religion and practis, did direct the best conceits of the most studious people: So for my simple skill in the same course, I haue armed my self, what so euer I shall set down by waie of precept, for the furtherance of learning, and hir recoue∣rie from blemish, to practis it my self, with that successe in schooling which it shall please god to blesse in me and mine, for president to o∣thers, who will follow the plat, and with that allowance in writing, which my gentle reader shall bestow vpon it. For the plat of mine E∣lementarie, and what I haue vndertaken for the penning thereof, it is sullie declared in the eleuenth title of this same book: For the performance thereof in the bringing vp of children, I haue all the principles there named on foot, within mine own house, vnder ex∣cellent maisters. Wherein I do more then mine Elementarie requi∣reth. For mine Elementarie course is to haue the principles perfi∣ted, before the childe deal with grammer: Mine execution now is by finding out of times, without losse of learnĩg (which I maie easilie do hauing the hole train within mine own sight) to help those prin∣ciples forward in such children, as wanted them before, or had som vnperfit, & ar willing to learn them by apointmēt of their pa∣rents, and my prouision. Which doing maie serue me for two proues, first, that all the principles maie be well learned singlelie, in their naturall order, when by waie of prouision theie maie be well com∣pased iointlie with the tungs. Secondlie, that it is a great thing,

which maie be performed in the Element arie train, where, conue∣nient place continueth all the doings within the masters sight, and the not chaunging of schools for diuers things, doth assure the profit without losse of time, or lingring by the waie. But to leaue speaking of the Elemētarie execution and to return to the pen and the plat∣ting of this my writing course: vpon this consideration, which caried me thus on after I had conceiued both where the blemishes laie: which disfigured learning, & how to redresse thē by waie of aduise to others, but in effect & dede for mine own charge, I cam down to particulars: And began to examin, euen from the verie first, what went before the tungs in their orderlie trade of bringing vp chil∣dren frō there first schooling: which thing alone was my first impres∣sion in conceit, ear I fell to further thoughts: and my last resolution to tho with more aduice, when I had thought vpon the most. This examining of the hole fore train I took vpō me so much the rather bycause I perceiued a great vntowardnesse in the learning of tūgs, thorough som infirmities in the Elementarie grounding, which wēt before them. As what a toil is it to a grammer maister when the young infant which is brought him to teach, hath no Elementarie principle so grounded in him, as it maie bear a bilding? Wherefor considring the learned tungs do require a fundation, and carefull teachers som help of foretrain, I vndertook to rip vp all those things which concern the Elemētarie, a degre in teaching before the grā∣mer train, by mine own trauell to ease a multitude of masters. Which Elemētarie degre, bycause it tucheth such learners as ar not entred into latin, & wisheth well to such teachers, as be lightlie vnlearned, but in their own mediocritie: I thought it my best to publish it in that tung which is common to vs all, both before & after that we learn the latin. Vpō which resolutiō I begā with my first book, which I call Positions in the english tung, & so procede in this next, which I term an Elementarie, as it is in dede, bycause it conteineth al those Elemēts or principles, which childrē ar to deal with ear theie passe to grāmer, & the learning of tungs, a book deuided into parcels, to lighten the price, tho but one in volū, distinct for execution of seue∣rall argumēts. For these occasions, & to this end I ventured vpō the print to help the course of learning, in this my cuntrie, by helping of the trade which is vsed in teaching & to help the trade of teaching, by beginning at the Elementarie grounds, and to help the Elemen∣tarie by vttering it in English.

In which my attempts, these thre questions, I do not saie ar,

but I suppose maie, peraduenture be demaunded: first what those * 1.6 blemishes be, which I haue espied in the main bodie of learning ane argument at this daie so narrowlie sifted by so much varietie, and so great excellencie of learned wits, as euerie kinde of learning, is now thought to hauè recouered that worship, which it was in, euen then whensoeuer it was highest.

Secondlie, why in thè trade of teaching I do not content my self, with the president of som other, which in great number haue writen * 1.7 learned treatises to the same end, but toil my self with a priuat tra∣uell, whose euent is vncertain, whereas the writers of this argumēt be both learned themselues, and therefor to be followed, and their successe known, which maie warrant assurance

Thirdlie, if it be my best to handle a learned argument in the english tung, why I take so great pains, naie so curious a care in the * 1.8 handling thereof as the weaker sort, whose profit I pretend, naie as oftimes som other also of reasonable studie, can hardlie vnderstand the couching of my sentence, and the depth of my conceit.

While I answer vnto these thy motions, I must praie your paci∣ence, good my masters, bycause the things maie not be slightlie past ouer, and the satisfying of them, maketh waie to that sute, which I haue vnto you.

First for my generall care to the hole course of learning, I haue * 1.9 thus much to saie. The end of euerie particular mans doings, for his own self: & of the hole common weal for the good of vs all, is so like in consideration, and so the same in natur, as the one being sene, the other nedes small seking: Euerie priuat man traueleth in this world to win rest after toil, to haue ease after labor, and not to trauell still * 1.10 as being a thing exceding vncomfortable, if so be it were endlesse. The soldyer warreth in priuat conceit perhaps for ease by welth, which he maie win by spoil: in publik shew he trauelleth for the ease of his cuntrie by waie of defense, and pretending peace. The mer∣chant traffiketh in priuat conceit, to purchas piuat ease by procu∣ring priuat welth▪ in publik shew hetrauelleth for the common ease, to satisfy som wants in necessarie ware for the common nede. Gene∣rallie all men of what profession soeuer, as theie seke there own rest by the priuat in their doings, so theie pretend the publik by the ge∣nerall end, wherein theie all concur. Whereby it appeareth that ease after labor is the common end of both priuat and publik, of both all

and: som bycause euerie one in the naturall currant of all his doings hath as well a generall respect to the common quiet, which maintai neth his (priuat as a stròg bodie doth a febler persō) as vnto himfelf for to work his own rest, which is parcell of the publik, and not to part frō it, for fear of further harm. Naie is our hole life here in this miserable world, anie other thing, then a toilsom course, to com to som rest? or is the life after this in gods blessed kingdom anie other thing, then an endlesse rest, after ending trauell to such peple as seke for it by the right means to com by it? And as in that rest the hole assemblie of the chosen faithfull is all at rest, as euerie particular: so in this trauelling course, the generall end of anie hole state is a blessed peace, the great benefit of a mightie protectour, as in the same state the particular end of euerie priuat person is a blessed contentment, the great benefit of a mercifull god. Whereby I take it to be most euident both in Philosophie, whence the sirfi ground is and in Diuinitie whēce the second is, that honest contentment and rest, is the priuat mans hauen, as an honorable quiet peace is the publik harbour.

Now as both the priuat and publik end doth pitch in quietnesse after stir, so theie both haue the like means to compas their own * 1.11 quietnesse, which meanes if theie vse right, theie obtain their right end, if theie vse them wrong, as they wring by the waie, so theie work their own worst, by missing of their end. And in good sooth, were he not vnwise, which seing the mark, whereat he is to shoot, will of set purpos, shoot another waie? Who hauing mean to com to heauē, which he dailie wisheth, will hedlong to hell, which he semeth to abhor? The right mean vsed right is the waie to this good, as awrong mean, or a wrōg right work the cōtrarie effect. As to cōtinew in my former particulars, the soldiers mean to com to his end & right quietnesse, is to vse honest wisdom, & pollicie, for the sauing of himself from danger and death, to vse honest and wise means, such as law of arms doth admit, to better himself in bootie & spoil, with continewall eie to defend for whō he fighteth, to driue to peace and ease, after war and blood. The merchāts mean to com to his end and right quietnesse is to vse honest deuises and trades, for enriching himself without infamie to the world, or taint to his conscience: to rest content with so reasonable a gain, which is the hire of his trauell, as his countrie maie allow, and good conscience

not condemn, with continewall eie, neither to afflict the peple, and surcharge the state with the bringing in, of anie nedelesse to much, nor to rob the poor, and to rak the state, with the carrying out of anie nedefull to much. Generallie all mens mean to com to their right and resting end is, to vse that profession and calling, whereof theie haue made choice, after that rule in priuat, which ane honest reli∣gious conscience leadeth, and after that direction in publik, which in honest plaine truth procureth ech mans right ease, by helping to pre∣serue the generall peace. If these means do not procede thus, neither hath the soldyer his rest in the end, but falls in blood or anguish, nei∣ther hath the merchant his end, but dwells in hatred or miserie, nei∣ther hath anie profession the hoped end, but such publik blemishes, and such priuat corrosiues, as vniust dealings in euerie kind deserue to receiue, and mete with in the end.

Now as all these particulars by their priuat mismeaning, work their own mischiefe, so by the same means they be mortall enemies to the common peace, which is supported in dede, by priuat good de∣meanour. * 1.12 What the particular mean of euerie trade is, to com to the right end, I am not to shew at this time, let them look vnto it, whom it particularlie tucheth. My consideration is generall, & the publik mean is my care, which must be measured by the proper end. The publik end is said to be peace, gods great benefit in his most mer∣cie, and his chiefe, naie his onelie charge in his new and last com∣mandement, to them that loue him. Then those means both first to com by this end, & whē it is cō by, to maintain it in state, must nedes be such directions, as ar for peace, and the quietnesse of a state, for the keping of concord and agrement, without anie main publik breach, both priuatlie in houses, publiklie in cuntries, & generallie throughout the hole gouernment. These peaceable directions I call, and not I alone, by the single name of generall learning, comprising vnder it all the arts of peace, and the ministerie of tranquillitie, a matter of great moment, being the onelie right mean to so blessed a main, as fortunat peace is, imparting the benefit of publik quietnesse, to euerie particular, as a generall fountain seruing euerie mans ce∣stern by priuat quills and pipes, whose bodie if it be blemished it hin∣dreth not a litle, as the infected water of a primitiue fountain, is not holsom where it is vsed, naie as the corrupt blood passing frō the li∣uer poisoneth the hole carcasse. By the benefit of learning euen war

it self a professed enemie to learning, bycause it is in fede with peace, is handled verie iustlie, and worketh peace at home by vniting of mindes against a common fo. So much the more deadlie enemies, to all humanitie, naie verie diuells in dede to all common good ar theie to be estemed, which working sedition within the bowells of a state disioint it at home, & make it to to feble, either against out∣ward fo, by waie of resistence, or to recouer it self by reconcilement at home. By this learned mean in ech kinde, all princes gouern all states: the main and generall by considerat & graue counsellours, by wise & faithfull iusticiaries: & the particular branches for relligion & souls by diuines, for diseased bodies, by physiciās, for maintenāce of right, & voiding of wrong, by lawyers, for euerie particular help, by euerie particular professour, from euerie greatest to euerie mea∣nest thoroughout the hole gouernmēt. A most blessed mean to a most blessed end, a learned maintenance of an heauenlie happinesse, in ane earthlie state, of an heauenlie cōstitutiō. And therefore anie error in this mean is a maim in dede, and deserueth to be thought on, as an hindrer to peace, and a pernicious defeater of the best publik end, beginning perhaps at a small sparkle, but encroching still and gathe∣ring strength, by confluence of like infection in som other parts, till at the last, it set all on fire, and brust out in confusion, the more to be feared, bycause it festureth ear it flame, and shroudeth it self vnder shew of peace, and so consumeth without suspition, wheras it might be staid if it professed enemitie, and stood with vs in terms. The misses and blemishes herein, as in all other goods, which pro∣fit vs by vsing them, consist either in to much, or in to litle, or in * 1.13 to diuerse, or in to dissensious, if dissension be not the greatest di∣uersitie, tho for teaching sake theie be seuered in terms: Shall I saie in my thinking of this argument for the ascent in learning from the first Elementarie, that methought I found all these four imperfections in the hole bodie of learning somwhere to much, som∣where to litle, somwhere to different, somwhere to dissensious, four great enormities in a peaceable mean, to brede great diseases, and defyance to quietnes, first, with in a state in the gouerning dirrectiō, and then without by euident inflammation, a thing therefore to be thought on, not onelie by particulars in waie of mouing, but also by magistrates for mean to amendment.

For to much thus I conceiue, that as in euerie naturall bodie, the number of sinewes veins and arteries, for the quikning and mo∣tiue * 1.14 vse thereof is definite and certain: so in a bodie politik, the distributiue vse of learning, which I compare to those parts, is eue∣rie where certain. And what soeuer is more then natur requireth in either of them, as in the one it bredes disease, so in the other it doth destruction, by breach of proportion, and so consequentlie of peace. In naturall bodies this to much appeareth, when one or mo parts engrosse them selues to much, & feble the remnant: In a cō∣mon bodie this to much for learning, is then to be espied, when the priuat professions do smell to much, and so weaken the hole bodie either by multitude of the prefessors, which bite sore, where manie must be fed, and haue but litle: to fede on: or by vnnecessarie profes∣sions, which choke vp the better, and fill the world with toies: or by infinitnesse of books, which cloie vp students and weaken with va∣rietie: or by intolerable swelling in the verie handling, which fatteh the carcasse, and febleth the strength of pithie matter. Be not all these surfets at this daie in our state? Be there not enemies to the common end, being growen out of proportiō? be theie not worth the weing, & wish theie no redresse? I saie no more, where it is to much euen to saie so much in a sore of to much.

For to litle thus I cōceiue. In a naturall bodie there is then to litle, when either som necessarie thing wanteth, or when that which is not * 1.15 wāting is to weak to serue the turn: And be not the same defects di∣seases in learning, and disquieters to a state? when necessarie profes∣sours wāt, either for number as to few, or for valew, as to feble? whē shew is shrined, where stuf should be enstalled? when sound learning is litle sought for, but onelie sursace, sufficient to shift with? When som necessarie professions, ar quite contemned, and laid vnder foot, bycause the cursorie student is to passe awaie in post? When want of nedefull books, bycause theie be not to be had proues a forcible let to greater learning: when such as we haue, be as good not had for insufficiencis in handling, and lamenesse to learn by? This corruption in learning anie man maie se, who is desirous to seke both for the maladie and the amendment. A breach of proportion, and there∣fore of peace to a publik bodie, which ought to be proportionate, a pining euil, which consumeth by staruing.

For diuersitie in masters of learning, thus I think, that as it

self procedeth from diuersities in abilitie, for bringing vp; for wit, for iudgement, for perfection, bycause either all or som of these four be a great deal finer in som then in som: so it worketh verie much harm in the peace of anie state, chefelie where the leaders thereof, tho theie fall not out, and do but vtter their opinions, yet deuide stu∣dies according to their fauorites, which consider not so much the weight of the arguments, as the liking of the autors.

If this diuersitie do break out in carnest, as it hath commonlie * 1.16 don in our time, while the verie print it self being the instrument of necessitie, and the deliuerer of learning in the naturall and best vse, becommeth verie often to fré a mean for ambition in brauerie, for malice in enuie, for reuenge in enimitie, for all passions in all purpo∣ses, what a sore blow doth the cōmon quiet receiue, whose mean to quiet, is made an instrumēt to distemper? For will not he fight in his furie, which brauleth in his books? seme not those mindes armed, naie arm theie not others to, by egging enimitie forward, to an o∣pen cōflict, which in priuat studies enter combats with papirs? which by to much eagernesse make to much a do, in a stir better quenched to dy, then quikned to liue? which whet their wits before, to be wranglers euer after, and as much as lyeth in them, disturb the common ease? nedelesse combats in matters of learning, be those which I mislike, the nedefull maie go on & yet with no more passion, then common ciuilitie will allow, and christian charitie not condemn. To much ouerburdeneth, to litle consumeth, to diuerse distracteth, but to dissensious destroies. Your selues know my learned readers, what a wonderfull stir there is dailie in your schools thorough the dissenting opinions of som in logik, som in philosophie, som in the mathematiks, Physik is not fre, tho Paracelsus were no fo, to those his humorists. The lawyer generallic is most quiet for contradicto∣rie writing, bycause he gains not by it the thing which he sekes for: contrarie pleading at cōmon bars, is a better pastur for a lean purse then a bissie pen to publish controuersies. The dissension in diuinitie is fierce beyond Gods forbid, & so much the more, bycause it falls out often, that the aduersarie parties entermingle their own passions with the matters, which theie deal in. For as our arguments of con∣trouersie in cases of relligiō do somtimes require a necessarie defense, so the•…•…e be oftimes such, as maie be well compounded, if mens affec∣tions would abide as much water to coul, as theie bring fire, to en∣flame.

But in the mean while how is the common peace disturbed, by the dissensious writhing of a worthie mean, to maintain a wrong, and to becom slaue to som in ordinate passion? I enter not this argu∣ment, to stand long about it, but in natur of a passage to let my good reader vnderstand, how much my desire was encreased, to the furtherance of learning, after I had markt these inconueni∣ences, wheras at the first I ment no more but onelie the help of tea∣ching the learned tungs. The agrement of the learned generallie, is mother to contentment generallie: By carping or contrarying, theie trouble the world, and taint themselues, bearing the name of Christians, which verie title enioyneth a serch to avoyd contentiō, e∣uen by submission of the wronged: neither chargeth it vs to defend our religion with passionat mindes, but with armor of pacience, and appointment of truth sufficient to confute, euen bycause it is trew, not neding our affections, wherewith it is trubled.

These were the blemishes which I saw by the waie in the bodie of learning, which as I did mone, so I wished the amendment, which * 1.17 amendment resteth vpon two great pillers: The professours of lear∣ning to giue intelligence of the error, and the principall magistrates, naie the verie souerain prince, to cause the redresse in so necessarie a pece, as the course of learning is, being Gods great instrument to work our quietnesse for souls, bodies, goods, and doings.

The prince maie take order to cut of that is to much; to make vp that is to litle, to vnite diuersities, to expell dissensions, whose law∣full autoritie is a great cōmander, and no where more then in a ge∣nerall good, where euerie one will follow, bycause euerie one is bet∣tered. If it com not frō the prince, the mone maie continew, the amēd ment is consumed. Which proueth Platoes sentence, to haue kings Filosofers, that is, all magistrates learned, to be mauellous requi∣site in anie good gouernment. It is a great corrosiue to the hole prouince of learning, which is the regiment of peace, where such as must direct, ar but experienced wise, tho that be verie much, but yet both experience, and learning togither make the better con∣sent. It is an honorable conceit besides the incredible good, for a learned vertewous prince by the assistence of a like counsell, to re∣duce the professours of learning, by choice in euerie kinde to a cer∣tain number, to make choice in points of learning necessarie for the state, to appoint out books for learning, both in multitude not to ma∣nie,

and in method of the best. The president is princelie, in euerie profession, & not onelie now moued. There hath bene stripping here∣tofore in all these kindes, both by consent of the learned and, by commandement fr•…•… good princes. Our cuntrie is small, the thing the more easie our liuings within compas, the thing the more ned∣full: the enormitie great, the lesse able we to beare it: our prince lear∣ned, the liker to giue ear: our peple of vnderstanding, the better a∣ble to enform her. But neither doth the physician thriue so, by the preseruing part of physik, nor the lawyer grow rich so, by taking vp of contentions, nor the diuine prosper so in a heauen, where all is good, as he doth in earth where, all is euill, tho the best in ech kinde do honor them most: And therefore profit wilbe followed, tho it be with confusion, redresse will not stir, bycause it iudgeth the world, to be in som falt, which it is loth to confesse. Howbeit to procure som redresse and help this waie, at the Princes hand, it standeth all them in hand, which make profession of learning, if theie do but consider the reputation of learning in these our daies, whether by insufficient professours, or contemned professions.

In the professours of learning, to whose solliciting this point is re∣commended, there be two things chefelie required. First that theie * 1.18 studie soundlie themselues vpon stuf worth the studie, in order of right ascent, with mindes giuen to peace. For sound learning will not so soon be shaken at euerie eager point of controuersie, as the fleter will. Orderlie ascent groweth strong verie soon, & a pacifik conceit is a furtherer to that end, which is both priuatlie minded, and publiklie intended. The consent of the learned, and their quiet inclination is a great blessing to anie common weal, but chefelie to ours in this contentious time, where the ouerwhetted mindes work verie small good to sons worthie professions. The distrac∣tion of mindes, into sects and sorts of philosophie, did a might ie great displeasur to the quietnesse of that people, where the destrac∣tion * 1.19 fell as it did our religion more, which spreding in that cun∣trie, where those sorts were nurished, was neuer in quiet sence.

The second point required in a learned student is not so much to * 1.20 seke his own auancement, as the things, which he professeth, which if it take place, himself coms forward, bycause he hath the things. If he seke his own auancement, and either forget the thing, if he haue it, or care not for it, if he haue it not, the want of the thing

will weaken his credit, tho it encrease hir own, as where the igno∣rant is blamed, there knowledge is allowed, tho the allower be not learned. He that studieth soundlie recommendeth good letters, by his own example: he that solliciteth other, who haue autoritie to fur∣ther, aduaunceth them by aduertisment, he that exerciseth his pen to help the best currant, confirmeth his desire by the doing there∣of. In this last kinde mine own labor trauelleth to seke for vnifor∣mitie, to strip awaie the nedelesse, to supply som defects, to do mine en∣deuor to help euerie one in as quiet a course, as I can temper my stile vnto. And tho somtimes I do sprede vpon cause in length of discourse, yet for the matter it self, which I will commend to the lear∣ner, I wilbe short and sound enough, and leaue more to practis, then I will laie in precept. Thus much for the generalitie of learning, and the learned, to whose considerations I commit the solliciting, as to the magistrates the amendment.

The second question, which I said might be demanded of me, why * 1.21 I do not follow som learned president of those writers, which haue delt this waie with great admiration, maie be answered verie soon. I confesse the number of them, which haue writen of the training vp of children, to be so manie in number, as either priuat cuntrie or priuate cause might moue to deal in it. I confesse the excellencie of manie in that kinde, as Bembus, Sturmius, Erasmus, and diuerse other. But we differ in circumstance. Afré citie, a priuat frind, and an hole monarchie, haue diuersities in respect, tho theie agré in som generalls, wherein those writers dissent not from me. Neither do I but follow good writers, fetching my first patern from such writers, as taught all those to write so well, a thing alredie proued in the se∣cond chapter of this book. I am seruant to my cuntrie. For hir sake I trauell, hir circumstances I must consider, and whatsoeuer I shall pen, I will se it executed by the grace of God, mine own self, to per∣suade other the better by a tried prouf.

The third question for my writing in English, and my so carefull, (I will not saie so curious writing,) concerneth me somwhat, bycause it * 1.22 beareth matter. For som be of opinion, that we should neither write of anie philosophicall argument, nor philosophicallie of anie slight argument in our English tung, bycause the vnlearned vnderstand it not, the learned esteme it not, as a thing of difficultie to the one, and no delite to the other. For both the penning in English generallie,

and mine own penning in this order, I haue this to saie.

No one tung is more fine then other naturallie, but by industrie of the speaker, which vpon occasion offered by the kinde of gouern∣ment wherein he liueth, endeuoreth himself to garnish it with elo∣quence, & to enrich it with learning. The vse of such a tung, so elo∣quent for speche, and so learned for matter, while it kepeth it self within the naturall soil, it both serues the own turn with great ad∣miration, and kindleth in the foren, which com to knowledge of it, a great desire to resemble the like. Hence came it to passe, that the peple of Athens, both bewtified their speche by the vse of their pleading, & enriched their tung with all kindes of knowledge, both bred within Grece, and borowed from without. Hence came it to passe, that peple of Rome hauing platted their gouernment, much what like the Athenian, for their common pleas, became enamored with their eloquence, whose vse theie stood in nede of, and transla∣ted their learning, where with theie were in loue. Howbeit there was nothing somuch learning in the latin tung, while the Romane florished, as at this daie is in it by the industrie of studēts, thorough∣out all Europe, who vse the latin tung, as a common mean, of their generall deliuerie, both in things of their own deuise, and in works translated by them. The Romane autoritie first planted the latin among vs here, by force of their conquest, the vse thereof for mat∣ters of learning, doth cause it continew, tho the conquest be expired. And therefor the learned tungs so termd of their store, maie thank their own people, both for their fining at home, and their fauor a∣brode. Wherevpon it falleth out, that as we ar profited by the mean of those tungs, so we ar to honor them euen for profit sake, and yet not so but that we maie cherish our own, both in such cases, as the vse thereof is best: and in such places, as it maie be bettered, tho with imparing of them. For did not those tungs vse euen the same means to braue themselues ear theie proued so beawtifull? Did the peple strain curtesie to pen in their naturall, euen these same arguments which theie had frō the foren? If theie had don so, we had neuer had their works, whereat we wonder so.

There be two speciall considerations, which kepe the Latin, & o∣ther learned tungs, tho chefelie the Latin, in great countenance a∣mong vs, the one thereof is the knowledge, which is registred in them, the other is the conference, which the learned of Europe, do

commonlie vse by them, both in speaking and writing. Which two considerations being fullie answered, that we seke them from profit & kepe them for that conference, whatsoeuer else maie be don in our tung, either to serue priuat vses, or the beawtifying of our speche, I do not se, but it maie well be admitted, euen tho in the end it displa∣ced the Latin, as the Latin did others, & furnished it self by the La∣tin learning. For is it not in dede a meruellous bondage, to becom seruants to one tung for learning sake, the most of our time, with losse of most time, whereas we maie haue the verie same treasur in our own tung, with the gain of most time? our own bearing the ioy∣full title of our libertie and fredom, the Latin tung remembring vs, of our thraldom & bondage? I loue Rome, but London better, I fa∣uor Italie, but England more, I honor the Latin, but I worship the English. I wish all were in ours, which theie had from others, neither offer I them wrong, which did the like to others, and by their own president do let vs vnderstand, how boldlie we maie ventur, not withstanding the opinion of som such of our peple, as desire rather to please themselues with a foren tung, wherewith theie ar acquain∣ted, then to profit their cuntrie, in hir naturall language, where their acquaintance should be. It is no obiection to saie, well ye rob those tūgs of their honor, which haue honored you? or which if theie had not bene to make you learned, you had not bene to strip them of frō learning? For I honor them still, & that so much as who so doth most, euen in wishing mine own tung partaker of their honor. For if I had them not in great admiration, bycause I know their valew, I wold not think it to be anie honor for my cuntrie tung to resemble their grace. I confesse their furnitur and wish it were in ours, which was taken from other, to furnish out them. For the tungs which we studie, were not the first getters, tho by leerned trauell the proue good kepers, and yet readie to return and discharge their trust, when it shalbe demanded in such a sort, as it was committed for term of years, and not for inheritance. And therefor no dis∣grace where theie did receiue with condition to deliuer, if theie do deliuer, when theie ar desired. But a dishonor to that tung, which hath a deliuerie both deuised and tendered, and will not receiue it. From which dishonor I wold English were fré, and that learning receiued, which is redie to be deliuered. I confesse their good fortun, which had so great a forestart, before other tungs as theie be most

welcom, wheresoeuer theie set foot, & allwaie in wonder aboue anie other for their rare worthinesse: which haue all mens opinions con∣cerning other speches, in such a captiuate preiudice of their own ex∣cellencie, as none is thought anie, but when it is like to them, and yet the most like to be maruellouslie behind.

The diligent labor of learned cuntriemē did so enrich these tungs, and not the tungs them selues, tho theie proued verie pliable, as our tung will proue, I dare assure it of knowledge, if our learned cun∣triemen * 1.23 will put to their labor. And why not I praie you, as well in English, as either in Latin or anie tung else?

Will ye saie it is nedelesse? sure that will not hold. If losse of * 1.24 time while ye be pilgrims to learning by lingring about tungs, be no argument of nede: if lak of sound skill, while the tung distracteth sense, more then half to it self, and that most of all in a simple student or a sillie wit, be no argument of nede, then saie you somwhat, which pretend no nede. But bycause we neded not, to lease anie time one∣lesse we listed, if we had such a vantage, in the course of studie, as we now lease, while we trauell in tungs: and bycause our vnderstanding also, were most full in our naturall speche, tho we know the foren ex∣cedinglie well, me think necessitie it self doth call for English, where by all that gaietie maie be had at home, which makes vs gase so much at the fine stranger.

But ye will saie it is vncouth. In dede being vnused. And so was * 1.25 it in Latin, and so is it in ech language, & Tullie himself the Ro∣mane paragō, while he was aliue, & our best patern now, tho he be dead, had verie much ado, and verie great wrastling against such wranglers, and their nice lothing of their naturall speche, ear he wan that opinion, which either we our selues haue now of him, or the best of his frinds did thē cōceiue by him. Is not euerie his preface before all his philosofie still thwakt full of such conflicts, had against those cauillers? our English wits be verie wel able, thāks be to God, if their wils were as good, to make those vncouth & vnknown lear∣nings verie familiar to our peple, euen in our own tung, & that both by president & protection of those same writers, whom we esteme so much of, who doing that for others, which I do wish for ours, in the like case must nedes allow of vs, onelesse theie wil auouch that which theie cānot auow, that the praise of that labor to cōueie cūning frō a foren tung into a mans own, did dy with them, not to reuiue in vs.

But whatsoeuer theie saie, or whatsoeuer theie can saie to continew their own credit, our cuntriemen maie not think, but that it is our praise to com by that thorough purchace, and planting in our tung, which theie were so desirous to place in theirs, and ar now so loth to forgo again, as the farest flour of their hole garland, which wold wither soon, or else decaie quite, if their great cunning, were not cause of their continewance: and if our people also, were not more willing to wonder at their workmanship, then to work their own tūg, to be worth the like wōder. Our English is our own, our Sparta must be spunged, by the inhabitants that haue it, as well as those tungs were by the industrie of their people, which be braued with the most, and brag as the best.

But it maie be replyed again, that our English tung doth nede no * 1.26 such proining, it is of small reatch, it stretcheth no further then this Ilād of ours, naie not there ouer all. What tho? Yet it raigneth there, and it serues vs there, and it wold be clean brusht for the wearing there. Tho it go not beyond sea, it will serue on this side. And be not our English folks finish, as well as the foren I praie you? And why not our tung for speaking, & our pen for writing, as well as our bodies for apparell, or our tastes for diet? But our state is no Empire to hope to enlarge it by commāding ouer cuntries. What tho? tho it be neither large in possession, nor in present hope of great encrease, yet where it rules, it can make good lawes, and as fit for our state, as the biggest can for theirs, and oftimes better to, bycause of confusion in greatest gouernments, as most vnwildinesse in grossest bodies.

But we haue no rare cunning proper to our soil to cause foren∣ners studie it, as a treasur of such store. What tho? yet ar we not ig∣norant * 1.27 by the mean thereof to turn to our vse all the great trea∣sur, of either foren soil, or foren language. And why maie not the English wits, if they will bend their wills, either for matter or for method in their own tung be in time as well sought to, by foren stu∣dents for increase of their knowledge, as our soil is sought to at this same time, by foren merchants, for encrease of their welth? As the soil is fertile, bycause it is applyed, so the wits be not barren if theie list to brede.

But tho all this be trew, yet we ar in dispare, euer to se ours so * 1.28 fined, as those tungs were, where publik orations were in ordinarie trade, and the verie tung alone made a chariot to honor. Our state

is a Moanarchie, which mastereth lāguage, & teacheth it to please: our religion is Christian, which half repines at eloquence, and li∣keth rather the naked truth, then the neated term. What tho? Tho no English man for want of that exercise, which the Roman had, & the Athenian vsed in their spacious and great courts, do proue a Tullie or like to Demosthenes, yet for sooth he maie proue verie comparable to them in his own common weal and the eloquence there. And why not in dede cōparable vnto them in all points tho∣rough out for his naturall tung? Our brains can bring furth, our cō∣ceits will bear life: our tungs be not tyed, and our labor is our own. And eloquence it self is neither limited to language, nor restrai∣ned to soil, whose measur the hole world is, whose iudge the wise ear is, not in greatnesse of state, but in sharpnesse of peple. And tho foren excellēcie were half in dispare, must our own best be therefor vnbeautified? It should not sure, it should pearch to the height, if I could help it. We maie aspire to a pitch, tho we passe no further. The qualitie of our monarchie wil admit trew speaking, wil allow trew writing, in both with the brauest, so that it do please, and be wor∣thie praise, so that it preach peace, and preserue the state. Our rel∣ligion condemns not anie ornament of tung, which doth serue the truth, and presumeth not aboue. Naie is not eloquence, which cō∣monlie is caried from weight of matter, to folie in words, the great blessing of god, and the trumpet of his honor, as Chrysostom calleth S. Paule, if it be religiouslie bent? Theie that haue red the old church storie, do find that eloquence in the primitiue church, o∣uerthrew great forces, bent against our faith, & enflamed nūbers to embrace the same, when strength from the truth, ioyned with force in the word. Seke it to serue God, shun it to serue thy self, but where it serues thine own turn, with warrant from him.

But will ye thus break of the common conferēce with the learned * 1.29 foren, by banishing the Latin, and setting ouer her learning to your own tung. The conference will not cease, while the peple haue cause to enterchange dealings, & without the Latin, it maie well be cōti∣newed: as in som cūtries the learnedder sort, & som near cosens to the latin it felf do alreadie wean their pens and tungs from the vse of Latin, both in writen discourse, & spoken disputatiō, into their own naturall, and yet no dry nurse, being so well appointed by the milch nurses help. The question is not to disgrace the Latin, but to grace

our own. And why more a stranger in honor with vs, then our own peple, all circumstances serued? And tho no stranger, nor foren natiō, bycause of the bounder & shortnesse of our language, wold deal so with vs, as to trāsport frō vs as we do frō other, bycause we deuise no now, tho we denison the old, yet we our selues gain verie much there by in the course of studie, to be set at the first in the priuie chāber or closet of knowledge, by the mere frindship of our cūtrie tung: as Iusti∣niā the Emperour saith to the studēts in law, whē he made his insti∣tutiōs to be of imperial force, that theie were most happie for hauing such a foredeal, as at the verie first to hear the Emperours voice, which those of elder time, did not attain vnto so soon, by the full term least of four hole years. And doth not our lāguaging hold vs tak four years, & that full think you? If it hindered vs no more, tho it help vs verie much, the losse were the lesse. For the time it is most certain, that we ar hindered by tungs, tho we must harken vnto them, till we haue help at home. And that our best vnderstāding is in our naturall tūg, if we minde & mark it, who can deny, which is able to se, that all our forē learning is applyed vnto vse thorough the mean of our own & without the applicatiō to particular vse, wherfor serues learning.

But it is pitie to deface such honorable antiquitie. No pitie forsooth to honor our own, doing no worse to them, then theie did to vs, by ei∣ther * 1.30 spoiling our cūtrie, as all histories witnesse, or defacing our lear ning if the Celtopadie saie trew. O spare Babilon it is a fair town, saue Dianaes chirch, it is a fair temple, worship forē speche, for that ye maie take frō it. Then be bōd still to Babilō, then be paganes still with Ephesus: thē be still borowers of the borowers thēselues. If this opinion had bene allwaie maintained, we had allwaie worn old Adās pelts, we must still haue eaten, the poëts akecorns, & neuer haue sought corn, we must cleue to the eldest and not to the best.

But why not all in English, a tung of it self both depe in conceit, & frank in deliuerie? I do not think that anie language, be it what∣soeuer, is better able to vtter all argumēts, either with more pith, or * 1.31 greater planesse, then our English tung is, if the English vtterer be as skilfull in the matter, which he is to vtter: as the foren vtterer is. Which methink I durst proue in anie most strāge argument, euen mine own self, tho no great clark, but a great welwiller to my natu∣rall cuntrie. And tho we vse & must vse manie forē terms, whē we deal with such argumēts, we do not anie more thē the brauest tūgsdo

& euē verie those, which crake of their cūning. The necessitie is one betwene cūtrie & cuntrie, for cōmunicating of words, for vttering of strāge matter, & the rules be limited how to square thē to the vse of those which will borow thē. It is our accident which restrains our tung, & not the tung it self, which will strain with the strongest, & stretch to the furthest, for either gouernmēt if we were cōquerers, or for cūning, if we were treasurers, not anie whit behind either the subtile Greke for couching close, or the statelie Latin for spreding fair. Our tūg is capable, if our peple wold be painfull. The verie Gre kish soil, as it is noted by som, did fine Philelphus beyond all accoūt, being an Italiā born. The same Italie saith Erasmus, wold have don the like in our S^r. Thomas More, if he had bene trained there. And maie not labor & emploimēt, work as great wonders in the English wits at home, as the air can do abrode? Is the alteration of soil, the best mean of growing, & onelie the best? Naie sure, wits be sharp enough euerie where, tho where the trading is lesse, & the air more grosse, the labor must be greater, to supply that with pains, which is wanting in natur. Which when ye haue don, thē maie you be bold to take that twoworded & thriseworthie questiō, Quid non? to be your posie. But grant it were an heresie, seing our traning vp is in the forē tungs, euē to wish all in English. Certainlie it is no falt to hādle that in English, which is proper to Englād tho the same argument well handled in Latin were like to please Latinists. But an English profit must not be measured by a Latinists pleasur, which is not for studies to plaie with, but for students to practis, & there the better where euerie one cā iudge: the prĩcipal benefit of our English pēnĩg. Besides all this to cōfirm a trew groūd with a triall as trew, how ma∣nie sklēder things, ar oftimes vttered in the Latin tung, & other fo∣ren speches, which vnder the bare vail of a strāge couert do seme to be somwhat for to coūtenāce studie, which if theie were Englished, & the mask puld of, that euerie mā might se thē, wold seme verie mi serable, & make a sorie shew of simple substāce, & be soon disclamed in of the parties theselues, with som thought at the least, of the old sa ing. Had I wist, I wold not. And were it not thē better to gain iudge mēt thoroughout in our own english, thē either to leaseit, or to lame in the forē Latin, or anie tūg else? To be led on a lōg time with the o∣pinion of somthing which in the end will proue plane nothing, or but a simple somthing? These and such considerations concerning the foren & our English tūg make me thank the foren for my furtherance in

points, but withall to think how to further my naturall. And there∣for when occasion doth offer, as in these Elemētarie points, I am verie well content to deal in English, not renouncing either Latin or other learned tung, when my ascent in writing shall require their vse.

Now as this penning in English maie seme not impertinent to the * 1.32 vse of my cuntrie, vpon these and such grounds, so my to carefull penning maie perhaps offend fom, as seming to obscure, and hindring my pretence by either writing to hard matters, for the ignorant to perceiue, or in to close a stile for mean heads to enter, or into rare terms, for plane folks to reach at. All which difficulties be verie great foes to the cōmon mans perceiuing, who cānot vnderstand but where he hath bene traned, and no good frinds to my purpos, who pretēd that I write to profit the most, which is that of the vntraned and vnskilfull multitude. But tho these obiections make a verie pro∣bable shew, yet theie must giue me leaue to plead mine own cause, for both matter, maner, and term, bycause the thre difficulties be grounded vpon these three, and yet in all these, the answer is half made, bycause I mean my cuntrie tung well, and therefor tho I did try som conclusions, to work that in the hardest, which is easie in the softest, euen som insufficiences might seme pardonable, for that all which I do, concerneth my cuntrie youth and tung, it entertai∣neth hir profit, and enuieth not hir pleasur, and desireth to se hir en∣riched so in euerie kinde of argument, and honored so with euerie ornament of eloquence, as she maie vy with the foren, if I maie work it with wishing.

But first to examin that of hardnesse in matter, which the rea∣der * 1.33 is said somwhat hardlie to vnderstand, and so'after to the other, for the maner and word. Wherein I praie you doth that hardnesse consist, which is fathered vpon matter? Or rather doth not all hard∣nesse procede from the person, and none from the thing, not onelie in this case, but eueriewhere else? If that person which vnderta∣keth to teach, do not know the matter well, which he is to teach to laie it so open, as it maie well be vnderstood, seing the best and first mean to plane opening, is perfit vnderstanding, is the thing there∣for hard, which is not thoroughlie had? Or if that person, which should vnderstand, either do not in dede thorough mere ignorance, or cannot in dede through small knowledge, or will not of a will tho∣rough som corrupt affection, is the thing therefor hard, which is so

strangelie crost by infirmitie in the partie? Sure there is not. Sure there is no hardnesse in anie thing at all, which is to be deliuered by a learned pen, be it neuer so strange from the common vse, how∣soeuer it be vnrightlie charged, to sheild negligence, if the partie deliuerer do know it sufficiētlie, & the partie receiuer be willing, & not weiward. For what be those things, which we handle in lear∣ning? Ar theie not of our own choice? Ar theie not our own inuenti∣ons? Ar theie not the supplyes of our own nede? And was not the first inuentour, verie well able to opē the thing, which he did inuent, be∣fore he did persuade it? Or did those men, which admitted the thing being inuented, make choice thereof before theie were instructed, wherefor it wold serue? Or could blunt ignorance haue won such a credit in a doutfull case, tho it pretēded profit, to haue bene beleued, before it had perswaded by plane euidence? To haue the thing pro∣ued, ear it were perceiued, that it wold be profitable, not onelie for the present, but in time to com also, and that in euerie mans eie, which had anie foresight? If the first could do so both in finding and perswading, both in first admitting, and still continewing, his follower must do so, or be in falt himself, and deliuer the thing from opinion of hardnesse, which riseth of himself, being not well appointed for sufficient deliuerie. If the partie which readeth do not conceiue the thing well, bycause he is ignorant, he is to be pardoned, the disease proceding from mere infirmitie: But if he do not, bycause he will not, hauing abilitie to do, tho not with the most, he is punished enough by being peuish ignorāt: if he can do with the best, & will deal with the worst, blinded vnderstanding is the greatest darknesse, & punisheth the ill humor with deprauing of reason, which should iudge right. If the partie deliuerer be himself weak, where mine own part coms in, being a deliuerer my self, he is either vnaduised, if he write ear that he know, or not well aduised if he mēd not, where he misseth so he know wherein, and can tell how. Yet the readers curtesie is som couert against error, for him that writeth, as his pardon is protecti∣on for him, that readeth, if simple ignorance be their onelie falt, without further want or defect in good will. It fareth oftimes with readers in the iudging of books, as it doth with beholders in iudging of fauor, as it doth with tasters in iudging of relice. In the matter of fauor where louing is, all things be amiable, where lothing is, there nothing is liked, no not beawtie it self. But where affection is

voided and reason in place, being able to iudge, there beawtie is beawtie, and deformitie is ill fauored, and euerie thing so weighed, as it is worth in dede. The like varietie is in matters of diet, a sik∣kish humor can relice nothing well, an ouergiuen delite likes no∣thing at all, but his own choice: an healthfull humor, and a right taste neither ouerlothes with siknesse, nor ouerloues with fant sie, but measureth what he t•…•…steth with a right sense. And therefor in iudge ment of fauor the corrupt opinion must be freid from passion: in dis∣cerning of iuyces the corruption of taste must be cleared from distem per: & in matters of reason right information must be mean to right iudgement, or else that passion is to imperious, whom information cā∣not rule. Howbeit I fear not anie so strong a passion in anie my rea∣der, and therefor I will on with my argument of hardnesse.

Admit this diuision to be trew, that the hardnesse about matter either riseth of the thing it self, or of the handling. Is the thing hard * 1.34 saie you? Then is it such as is strāge to the reader, either for differēce of trade betwene the readers profession and the thing which he rea deth, or for want of full studie, which marreth that in hādling, that was neuer so studied, as it could be well handled. For the first, what affinitie is there in respect of their profession, betwene a simple plow∣man, a warie merchant, and a subtill lawyer? betwene manuarie trades, and metaphysicall discourses, either for the mathematiks, for physik, or for diuinitie? Again can anie thing at all be easie euē to stu∣dents, who professe allyance, with the thing which theie studie, as the other do not, whose trades be mere fremd, if theie haue not trauel∣led sufficiētlie therein? I nede saie no more but onelie this, that where there is no acquaintance in profession, there is no ease to help vnder∣standing, where no familiaritie, there no facilitie where no cōferēce, there no knowledge. If the man delue the earth, & the matter dwell in heauen, there is no mean to vnite, where the distance is so great without compatibilitie. And whereas the vnderstanding in affinitie of trade is clear insufficient, there is far more hardnesse then in diffe rence of professiō, bycause vain persuasiō in such imperfitnesse brings much more error, then weak knowledge can work vnderstanding. In the ignorant vnacquaint•…•…d there maie som good follow, if he begin to like, but the lukewarm learned doth mar his own waie by preiudi cat opinion. But all this while, if there be anie difficultie about the matter, the mean is cause of hardnesse, which is in the man, and not

the propertie, which is in the matter, and maie easilie be had, if it be carefullie sought. I am quik in teaching, and so hard to vnderstand, but to whom and why? To him forsoth that is not acquainted with such a currant, neither yet familiar to the matter so coursed. Well then, if want of acquaintance be the cause of difficultie, and supposed hardnesse, acquaintāce once made and frindlie continewed will reme die that complaint, if the matter seme worthie the mās acquaintāce in his naturall tung, for that is a question in a conceit blinded with the foren fauor, or if the partie be desirous to be rid of such a gest, as ignorance is, for that is another question, in a vain opinion ouerwei∣ning it self. For ane hole book being writen in English, and so ma∣nie Englishmen being so well able to satisfy euen at full the most ig∣norant reader in anie case of a book in that tung, it were to great discourtesie, not to lighten a mans labor with a short question, and as long an answer, but to pretend difficultie as a shadow not to seke, where the matter it self being no pleasant tale, nor anie amorous de uise, but an earnest argument concerning sober & aduised learning, not acquainted with all readers, nor yet with all writers, doth protest no ease before it be sought, and deseruing to be sought, either for knowledge sake to instruct our selues, or for cuntries sake to enlarge hir speche, if it be not sought at all, and thereby not found, it doth be∣wraie an vnnaturall idlenesse, which desireth rather to find salt thē ease. For what reason is it for one to labor to help all &, none to list to help that one? naie for anie to list not to help himself frō the danger & bondage of blind ignorance? If the book were all Latin, & no one word of the readers acquaintāce, thē the thing were desperate for a mere Englishmā to compas. Where as now anie man maie do it with verie small enquirie of his skilfull neighbour. Wherefor if anie thing seme hard to such an ignorant, as desireth to know, & doth not know thorough the argument it self, being mere strang to his kinde of life he must handle the thing often, and so make it soft, where it semeth to be hard: and in questions of dowt confer with those, which ar cū∣ning allredie. He must take acquaintāce & make the thing familiar if it seme to be strange. For all strange things seme great nouelties, & hard of entertainmēt at their first arriuall, till theie be acquain∣ted: but after acquaintance theie be verie familiar, and easie to en∣treat. And words likewise, which either conueie strange matters, or be strangers themselues, either in name or in vse, be no wilde beasts,

tho theie be vnwont, neither is a term a Tiger to proue vntracta∣ble. Familiaritie & acquaintance will cause facilitie, both in matter and in words.

If the handling do seme to make the hardnesse, & that doth pro∣cede from him which deliuereth & penneth the argument, not one∣lie * 1.35 by opiniō of the mistaking reader, but in verie plane truth also, & the soūdest iudgments in that, whereof theie iudge, he is worthie to be blamed, which seketh to deliuer withowt sufficient studie: as again if it be not in him for insufficient handling, but in the corrupt rea∣der for the plane misconstrewing, it deserueth small praise in him, that misconstreweth without either regard to curtesie, or reue∣rence to truth, or his own credit, if it proue contrarie, the partie misconstrewed being verie well able to be his own orator.

Concerning the maner, which I vse in writing, bycause the ma∣ner and the handling be so near cosens, as theie both be the pencills to deliuerie, if there be anie falt for hardnesse therein, that also pro∣cedeth of choice, being carefull to shew from whence I com, that is from the students forge, who being still acquainted with strong stele, and pithie stuf in reading of good writers, cannot but resemble that metle in my stile. In penning to proue close and allwaie with cause, and to cause that, which followeth to be sutable to that, which went before, to seke more for sinewes and sound strength, then for waste flesh, is semelie for a student, and chefelie there, where he penneth for perpetuitie, where the reader maie at leasur, either look vpon the book, or laie it down by him, neither is so straited, as to read all at once, or to forgo the book: or to hear all at once, or to hear it no more, which is cōmōlie so in things but once handled in speche, & in books that be vnwilling to bewraie their writer. Such discourses as be altogether popular, or vpō present dispatch, & soon after to dy, maie well abide slight, bycause their life is short. And where theie ar to passe streight waie from the pen to present vse, and make no longer tariance then for such and such a feat, or when thei salute but the ear, and so to execution, without further delaie, then the more plane at sodain, the more plausible in dede, and therefor in their kinde verie excellent perfit. Bycause the matters being such as serue to that end, the vtterance must be such as maie work to that end, without anie thing to muse on, where there is no time to muse in. But where musing must be, & the matter is no currier to passe a∣waie

in poste, ànother currant must be kept, & yet the maner of deli∣uerie must not be thought hard, nor be cōpared with the other, which is of anie other kinde, cōsidering it teacheth, & with such planenesse, as the subiect doth permit. Doth anie mā of iudgement in learning, & the Latin tung, think that Tullies orations & his discourses in philo sofie, were of like known, or of like planesse to the peple of Rome, tho either in their kinde, were allwaie like plane, as theie be to vs, which, know the Latin tung better then our own, bycause we pore vpon it, and neuer mark our own? no sure. To them theie were not, as it doth appear by verie manie places in Tullie himself, where he noteth the difference, & cōfesseth himself that the newnesse of those argumēts, which he transported from Grece, were cause of som darknesse to his common reader, and of som contempt to them, that were cunning, bycause of the Greke which theie fantsied more. Yet neither igno∣rance in the common reader, nor contempt in the learned could dis∣courage his pen from the benefit of his tung, by translating their learning, which the other wished still to continew in Greke, he was desirous to conueie it to Rome, & passed thorough with all, & gaue time the turn, which in time turned to him, & gaue him that credit which he still enioyeth vntill this daie. And that this was not onelie for the matter, which he wrote of, but also for the maner, which he vsed in writing, naie euen for the words, which the common man kn•…•…w not, being artificiall and strange, he himself witnesseth. * 1.36

I could write of these things, (meaning the arguments of philoso∣fie) saith he like to Amafanius, naming som obscure apophthegma∣tarie discourser, but then not like my self, and as plane as he, but not to please my self, nor to satisfie the argument, as I should handle it. I must define, deuide, distinguish, vse Art, vse terms of Art, vse iudge∣ment. I must as well mark from whom I fet my transported learning, that theie maie saie theie ment so, as for whom I fet it, that theie maie saie theie vnderstand it. Whereof he doth not anie, and is there for thought plane, and soon sene of them, which se nothing far. For if plane humors must still be pleased, and be delt withall, so daintilie, as theie be put to no pains, to learn and enquire, where theie find difficultie, thorough their own not knowing: If theie must be made a lure for learning to discend to, in euerie kinde, and rather to dege∣nerate hir self, then to desire them, to learn to look vp, what state standeth skill in? He that made the earth made hills and dales, made

heights and planes, made smouthes and roughs, and yet euerie one good in their seuerall kinde. Planenesse is good for a pleasant course, and a popular stile in ordinarie argument, where no Art nedeth, by∣cause the reader knowes none, neither the matter is such, but it maie be so vttered, as being then in hir best colors, when she is drest for the common. Likewise this pretēded hardnesse, tho it be proper to the matter, and the man which writeth without hardnesse in dede, hath hir peculiar good, to whet a wit withall, and to print depe euen bycause it semes dark, and contains a matter, which must be thrise lookt on, ear it be once gotten. Trauell is the coin, which is currant in heauen, for which and by which almightie God doth sell his best wares, tho of his great goodnesse, he do somtime more for som kinde of wits, in quiknesse and cunning, euen without great labor, tho not without anie, then anie labor can work in som other, to giue vs to wit, that his mercie is the mistresse, when our labor learns best. But in our ordinarie, if carpetting be knighting, where is necessarie de∣fence? If easie vnderstanding be the rediest learning, thē wake not my Ladie, she learns as she lies. If all things be hard, which euerie one thinks hard, where is the prerogatiue and benefit of studie? What helps it vs to studie, if what we get by trauell, be condemned as to hard for thē, which studie not. I will not alledge, that the old learned men vsed darknesse in deliuerie in matters of relligion to win reue∣rēce to the argumēt, as of another world, & not of ordinarie speche neither that the old wisedom, was expressed by ridles, prouerbs, fa∣bles, oracles, and oracle like verses, to draw on studie, and set that sure in memorie, which was soundlie studied for, ear it was so vtte∣red. Be anie of our best and eldest writers▪ which we studie at this daie, & haue ben thought the best, eche in their kinde, euer since theie wrote first, vnderstood at once reading, and at the verie first, tho he that studieth them do know their tung as well, as we think we know English, naie and better to, bycause it is more labored? or is their manner of penning to be disallowed as dark, bycause the igno∣rant reader, or the nice student maie not streight waie rush into it. That theie fell into that short & close kinde of writing, euen for ve∣rie pith to saie much, where theie speak least, the commenting of thē declareth, which openeth that with great lēgth, which theie set down in som short sentēce, naie in som short cut of no verie long sentēce. Be not all the chefe paragons & principall leaders in euerie profession of

this same sort, vnpearceable for the commō, tho in their common tūg, but reserued to learning, as to store them that will studie?

But maie not this dark falt, be in him that finds it, & not in the * 1.37 matter which is plane of it self, and is plainelie vttered, tho it be not so to him? Our daintinesse deceiues vs, our want of good will blinds vs, naie our want of skill, is the verie witch, which bereueth vs of sense, tho we pretend cunning & countenance for learning. For eue∣rie one that bids a book good morow, is not therefor a scholler, nor a sufficient iudge of the book arguments. What if he haue studied ve∣rie well, but neither much nor long? nor once medled or not soundlie medled, with the argumēt whereof he wilbe iudge? What if desire of prefermēt haue cut of his studie in the midst of his hope, & greatest towardnesse? Naie what if what not, where the means be so manie to work infirmitie? notwithstanding either countināce in the partie, or opinion in the peple, do muster verie fare, for som shew of learning? Euerie man maie iudge well of euerie thing, which he hath studied well, & practised full, (if the studie require practis), with all the cir∣cumstances that belong thereto. Pretie skill som one waie, and in som one thing, will somtimes glance at further matter, and shew som smak of further cunning, but no more then a smak, no further then a glance. And therefor in my iudging of another mans writing, so much of my iudgement is trew, as I am able to proue soundlie, if I were sadlie apposed by those, that can iudge: and not so much as I maie carie vncontrolled, either by pleasing my self, or som as ignorāt as my self. Apelles could allow the coblers opinion, where his clou∣ting was his cunning, but not an inch further. For my maner of wri∣ting, if I misse in choice, I misse with warrāt still, rather minding the matter with substance, then the person with surface. For howsoeuer it be in speche, in that kinde of penning, which wilbe like to speche plane for plane argument, where performance must be present, & de∣liuerie without delaie, certainlie where the matter must bide the tuch, and be tryed by the hāmer of a learned resolution, there wold be precisenesse, there wold be ordinat method, and deliuerie well coucht, euerie word bearing weight, & euerie sentēce being well, & euen that well well weighed, where both time doth lend weing, and the matter deserues weing. Which kinde of writing tho it want esti∣mation in som one age, by sleightnesse of the time, yet maie win it in another, when weight shalbe in price, as som hundreth years be wri∣ten

both to shrine saincts and to autorise books.

For the generall penning in the English tung, I must nedes saie this much, that in som points of handling by the tung, there is none * 1.38 more excellent then ours is. As in the teaching kinde no work memo∣rie with delite, like the old leonine verses, which run in rime, it doth admit such daliance, with the letter, as I know not anie. And in that * 1.39 kinde, where remembrance is the end, it is without blame, tho o∣therwise not, if it com in to often, and bewraie affectation not sound but followed. In the staie of speche, & strong ending, it is verie * 1.40 forcible and stout, bycause of the monosyllab, which is the chefe ground & ordinarie pitch of both our pen & tung. For fine transla∣ting in pithie terms, either pere to, or passing the foren quiknesse, I * 1.41 find it wonderfull pliable, and redie to discharge a quik conceit, in verie few words. For close deliuerie of much matter in not manie words generallie, it will do as much in the primitiue vtterance, as in * 1.42 anie translation. Which close deliuerie in few words maie seme hard somtimes, but onelie there, where ignorance is harbored or idle∣nesse is the idoll, which will not be entreated to crak the nut, tho he couet the kernell. I nede no example in anie of these, whereof mine ownpenning, is a generall patern. Neither shall anie man iudge so well of these points in our tūg, as those shall, which haue matter flow∣ing vpon their pen, that wilbe so vttered, or will vtterlie refuse him, which refuseth that vtterance. For as in other tungs there is a cer∣tain propertie in their own dialect, so is there in ours, for our deliue∣rie, both as pretie and as pithie, as anie is in theirs.

In the force of words, which was the third note and pretence of * 1.43 obscuritie, there ar to be considered. Commonesse for euerie man, beawtie for the learned, brauerie to rauish, borowing to enlarge our naturall speche, & rediest deliuerie. And therefor if anie reader find falt with anie word, which is not sutable to his ear, bycause it is not he, for whom that word serues, let him mark his own, which he knoweth, and make much of the other, which is worthie his knowing. Know you not som words? why? no maruell. It is a metaphor, a lear∣ned translation, remoued from where it is proper, into som such place where it is more properlie vsed, and most significant to, if it be well vnderstood: take pains to know it, you haue of whom to learn. It is not commonlie so vsed, as I do vse it, but I trust not abused, naie per∣aduentur in a more statelie calling, then euer you herd it. Then mark

that the place doth honor the parson, and think well of good words, which tho you hādle but with ordinarie lips, & those somtimes foul yet in a fairer mouth, or vnder a finer pen theie maie com to honor. Is it a stranger? but no Turk. & tho it were an enemies word, yet good is worth the getting, tho it be from your fo, as well by speche of wri∣ters, as by spoill of soldiers. And when the foren word hath yeilded it self, & is receiued into fauor, it is no more foren, tho of forē race, the propertie being altered. But he nede not lak words, that will speak of words. Howbeit in this place, there nedeth not anie further speaking of them, neither which be common, neither which be bewtifull, nor which be braue, nor which be borrowed, nor that for anie ornament therein we giue no place to anie other tung.

For mine own words and the terms, that I vse, theie be generallie English. And if anie be either an incorporate stranger, or otherwise translated, or quite coind a new, I haue shaped it as fit for the place, where I vse it, as my cunning will giue me. And to be bold that waie for either enfranchising the foren, or translating our own, without to manifest insolence, & to want on affectatiō, or else to inuent new vpon euident note, which will bear witnesse, that it fitteth well, where it is to be vsed, the word following smoothlie, & the circumstance about bewraing, what it meneth, till oft vsing do make it well known, we ar sufficientlie warranted both by president & precept of them, that can iudge best. Wherefor to saie that in plane terms, which I mean as planelie, he that is soundlie learned, will streight waie sound a scho∣ler: he that is well acquainted with a strong pen, whether in autors or in vse, will soon sift a close stile: he that hath skill in language, whether learned & old, or liked and new, will not wonder at words which he knoweth whence theie ar, neither yet maruell at a conceit quiklie deliuered, the like whereof he meteth oft abrode. And there∣for such skilfull men, as I fear not their iudgement, bycause cunning is curteous, so I praie their frindship, bycause their countenāce is cre∣dit. For those that want of this, and cannot iudge right, tho theie be sharp censors, and commonlie vttering their talking talent, I must craue their pardō, if I passe not for their censuring, which I take for no iudgement. And yet I am content to bear with such fellowes, and pardom them their errors in my behalf, so theie that can iudge will pardon me mine in their curtesie. Those that neither cāiudge right for wāt of cunning, nor maie seme to iudge wrōg, for bewraing their

own weaknesse, if theie desire to learn in anie case of dout, theie haue the learned to counsell, as the smatterer to corrupt. If theie like and allow, the profit is theirs, but if theie do not, theie fraie me not from writing, wherein I hope at length either to win their fauor, by deseruing well, or at least their silence, by cumbring them to much, tho I win not their fauor. Here to conclude in generall for the maner of writing & words in our English tung, this is my opinion, that as for choice of argument to proue with, som verie near to the substāce it self of that, which is in question, som further of, tho of probable seruice, there is regard to be had by him that proueth, & if he do his dewtie, the thing is discharged, howsoeuer it be charged: so in the hā dling & maner thereof, the like respect being had for both perspicui∣tie & propertie to the thing, tho som one point seme strāge, to the mā that will iudge, the deliuerer is discharged. For either inuention of matter or elocutiō in words, the learned know well, in what writers theie ly: and those that be vnlearned must learn to think of them, before theie think to iudge, least by missing the leuell, which the wri∣ter vseth, theie misse of that right, whereby theie should iudge. For the matter it self, which shalbe the subiect of anie learned method, as I haue said allredie, acquaintance will make it easie, tho it seme to be hard, as the maner also, tho it seme to be strange, if the thing it self, maie deserue acquaintāce, which wil not appear before acquaintāce. And a litle hardnesse yea in the most obscure, & most philosoficall cō∣clusions, maie neuer seme tedious to a conquering mind, such as he must haue, which either sekes himself, or is desirous to se his cūtrie tung enlarged, & the same made the instrumēt of all his knowledge, as it is of his nedes. But I haue bene to tedious, my good cūtriemen & curteous readers, & yet not so, where no hast is enioyned, but to read at leasur, & not all at once: now am I to moue my request vnto you, * 1.44 which I mentioned at the first, or your frindlie construction & cū∣trimālike fauor. The reuerence to learning, which allureth the good student to embrace hir in his youth, & auanceth him to honor, by hir presence in his age, will entreat the learned in generall for me, for endeuoring my self to recouer hir right, by whose onelie autoritie thēselues be of accoūt. The samenesse inprofession will work me more * 1.45 fauour among my fellow teachers, then found emulatiō can work me discountenance: the fauorable side discouering good natur, and lear∣ning in dede: the peuish detracting, a beggerlie spite, & som want of

skill. The consideratiō of mine own present profession & this last con∣ceiued hope of the learned teachers doth put me in minde, to aduertis them in generall, of one speciall point, which in dewtie must moue thē no lesse then me, to the carefull thought of redresse in our schools, which maie abide the amendmēt. I pretend not here relligion, which chargeth in conscience, neither yet priuat maintenance, which enfor∣ceth trauell, but onelie the munificence and that extraordinarie of our princes and parlements, towards our hole order in our cuntries behalf: who partlie by suffring vs to enioy old immunities, partlie by graunting vs diuerse other exemptions from personall seruices & ordinarie paiments, wherewith our fellow subiects ar cōmonlie char∣ged, both encourage vs to labor, & binde vs to requite them. For the continuāce whereof, & the assured enioying, all the teachers in Eng∣lād haue great cause to honor the right honorable. S^r. Walter Mild * 1.46 maie knight chancellor of hir maiesties court of exchequor & one of hir maiesties most honorable priuie counsell. The right honorable S^r. Roger Manwod knight Lord chefe baron of hir maiesties court of Exchequor, the right worshipfull master Robert Sute, master Iohn chlinch, master Iohn Sotherton, Esquiers & barōs of the same hir maiestes court, the two first S^r. Walter & S^r. Roger great founders to learning both within the vniuersites, & in the cuntries about thē: the other thre Esquires great fauorers to relligion & learning eue∣riewhere. For the small cōsideration, or rather the ouersight of som to passionat sessors in the last subsidie making that a priuat question, which was a generall priuilege, & scant charitablie seking the dam∣mage of a number, by quarell to som few, it pleased these honorable & worshipfull personages vpon humble sute for the common benefit of a number of poor men, to take the cause to protection, and to conster the statut, both as the parlaments did mean it, and as we haue still enioyed it, to the common benefit of our hole companie. Which their great goodnesse to the fauor of our order, as it deserueth at our hāds an honorable remembrance, so it bindeth vs further to the common care, for the which we were fauored. Whereunto as I find my self to be maruellouslie affectionate, so dout I not but there is the like affe∣ction in manie of the same liuerie, whose frindship I craue▪ for fauora∣ble construction, whose conference I desire for help in experience: be∣ing thankfullie redie in this common course, either to persuade or to be persuaded. Of those that ar not learned I praie frindship also, e∣uen

more then half of right: by cause I labor for them, in whō vnthāk fulnesse is a falt, if my good will be none. In generall I desire but to win so much of all men, a•…•… Dauus in Terente desireth of his master whē his good coūsell had no good successe. Bycause I am your bōd mā (saith the slaue to his master) my dewtie is, to trauell hand & foot, night and daie, yea with danger of my life to do you good, as common curtesie on the other side binds you, to hold me excused, to pardō and forgiue me, if anie my good meaning haue contrarie is shew, that I do maie misse, but yet I do my best. I am bond to my cuntrie, and boūd to hir peple, I will do my best endeuor, and craue pardon with poor Da∣uus, where my best is begiled. Common curtesie is naturall, where there is no desert: forgiuenesse is relligious, euen where there is a falt: but where good will deserueth well, tho it fortun to fail, if fauor be not shewed, will not curtesie condemn, will not relligion repine? God blesse vs all to the auancement of his glorie, the honor of our cuntrie, the furtherance of good learning, the good of all degreés, both prince and peple.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The cause which mo∣ued me first to deal thus publikelie in this argu∣ment
• * 1.2

  What course Plato took to find out what iustice was.
• * 1.3

  Platoes rea∣son to take that course
• * 1.4

  My course to find out the right method in teaching the tungs.
• * 1.5

  The diuersi∣tie in setting dovvn thigs of orer and of staie.
• * 1.6

  1
• * 1.7

  2
• * 1.8

  3
• * 1.9

  A generall note for the hole course of learning.
• * 1.10

  The end of euerie parti∣cular mans doings, and of euerie cō∣mon state is rest after la∣bor
• * 1.11

  The right means for both priuat men & com mon weals to com to their quiet
• * 1.12

  That learn∣ing is the mean to pre∣serue peace, which is the naturall end of euerie go∣uernment
• * 1.13

  The blemi∣shes in lear∣ning com four waies.
• * 1.14

  To much in learning
• * 1.15

  To litle in learning.
• * 1.16

  4 Dissension in matters of learning.
• * 1.17

  That the re∣formation of learning con sisteth in the aduised ma∣gistrate and the learned professour.
• * 1.18

  1
• * 1.19

  Grece
• * 1.20

  2
• * 1.21

  2. Why I fol∣low not som of the tea∣ching plats allredie laid by learned writers.
• * 1.22

  3. Of the En∣glish tung & the penning in English.
• * 1.23

  Why not learning in English?
• * 1.24

  1. It is not nede full
• * 1.25

  2. It is vncouth.
• * 1.26

  3. Our tūg is of no compas for groūd & autoritie.
• * 1.27

  4. No rare cun∣ning in En∣glish.
• * 1.28

  5. No hope of anie great∣nesse.
• * 1.29

  6 It will let the learned com munitie.
• * 1.30

  Will ye de∣face the La∣tin tung?
• * 1.31

  Why not all in English?
• * 1.32

  3 For this kinde of pen ning.
• * 1.33

  Of hardnesse in argument.
• * 1.34

  Is the thing hard?
• * 1.35

  Is the hand∣ling hard?
• * 1.36

  Tullies opi∣nion in this case of mine and his own person.
• * 1.37

  Of such as giue sentēce of other mēs trauell.
• * 1.38

  Som general properties of the En∣glish tung.
• * 1.39

  1.
• * 1.40

  2.
• * 1.41

  3.
• * 1.42

  4.
• * 1.43

  Is the hard∣nesse in words?
• * 1.44

  A request for curtesie.
• * 1.45

  Hesiod. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.46

  All schoole∣masters boūd to these fiue personages.