drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew; as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon the grass.”—­Deut., xxxii, 2.  It is not for him to exhibit the true excellency of speech, because he cannot feel its power.  It is not for him, whatever be the theme, to convince the judgement with deductions of reason, to fire the imagination with glowing imagery, or win with graceful words the willing ear of taste.  His wisdom shall be silence, when men are present; for the soul of manly language, is the soul that thinks and feels as best becomes a man.

CHAPTER VI.

OF THE ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

“Non mediocres enim tenebrae in sylva, ubi haec captanda:  neque eon, quo pervenire volumus semitae tritae:  neque non in tramitibus quaedam objecta, quae euntem retinere possent.”—­VARRO. De Lingua Latina, Lib. iv, p. 4.

1.  In order that we may set a just value upon the literary labours of those who, in former times, gave particular attention to the culture of the English language, and that we may the better judge of the credibility of modern pretensions to further improvements, it seems necessary that we should know something of the course of events through which its acknowledged melioration in earlier days took place.  For, in this case, the extent of a man’s knowledge is the strength of his argument.  As Bacon quotes Aristotle, “Qui respiciunt ad pauca, de facili pronunciant.”  He that takes a narrow view, easily makes up his mind.  But what is any opinion worth, if further knowledge of facts can confute it?

2.  Whatsoever is successively varied, or has such a manner of existence as time can affect, must have had both an origin and a progress; and may have also its particular history, if the opportunity for writing it be not neglected.  But such is the levity of mankind, that things of great moment are often left without memorial, while the hand of Literature is busy to beguile the world with trifles or with fictions, with fancies or with lies.  The rude and cursory languages of barbarous nations, till the genius of Grammar arise to their rescue, are among those transitory things which unsparing time is ever hurrying away, irrecoverably, to oblivion.  Tradition knows not what they were; for of their changes she takes no account.  Philosophy tells us, they are resolved into the variable, fleeting breath of the successive generations of those by whom they were spoken; whose kindred fate it was, to pass away unnoticed and nameless, lost in the elements from which they sprung.