their very pith in saying much where they speak least, is clearly shown by the comments of those who expand at great length what was set down in one short sentence--nay, even in a single phrase of a sentence. Are not all the chief paragons and principal leaders in every profession of this same character, inaccessible to ordinary people, even though using the same language, and giving of their store only to those who will study? But may not this obscurity lie in him who finds it rather than in the matter, which is simple in itself, and simply expressed, though it may not seem so to him? Our daintiness deceives us, our want of goodwill blinds us--nay, our lack of skill is the very witch which bereaves us of sense, though we profess to have knowledge and favour towards learning. For everyone who bids a book good-morrow is not necessarily a scholar, or a judge of the subject dealt with in the book. He may have studied up to a certain point, but perhaps neither hard nor long, or he may be very little acquainted with the subject he is seeking to judge of. Perhaps the desire of preferment has cut short his study when it was most promising, or there is some other of the many causes of weakness, although pretension may impose upon the world with a show of learning. Any man may judge well of a matter which he has sufficiently studied, and thoroughly practised (if it be a study that requires practice), and has regarded in its various relations. A pretty skill in some particular direction will sometimes glance beyond, and show a smattering of further knowledge, but no further than a glance, no more than a smattering. Therefore, in my judgment of another man’s writings, so much only is just as I should be able to prove soundly, if I were seriously challenged by those who can judge, not so much as I may venture uncontrolled, in seeking merely to please myself or those as ignorant as myself. Apelles could admit the opinion of the cobbler, so far as his knowledge of cobbling justified him, but not an inch further. As for my manner of writing, if I do not meet expectation, I have always some warrant, for I write rather with regard to the essence of the matter in hand than to superficial effect. For however it may be in speech, and in that kind of writing which resembles speech, being adapted to ordinary subjects with an immediate practical end, certainly where the matter has to stand a more lasting test, and be tried by the hammer of learned criticism, there should be precision, orderly method, and carefully chosen expression, every word having its due force, and every sentence being well and deliberately weighed. Such writing, though it may be without esteem in our age through the triviality of the time, may yet win it in another, when its value is appreciated. Some hundreds of years may pass before saints are enshrined, or books gain their full authority.