ncession
of mine, I declare positively my disapprobation of those persons who,
neglecting things, the nerves of causes, consume themselves in a
frivolous study about words. This they do for the sake of elegance,
which indeed is a fine quality when natural but not when affected. Sound
bodies, with a healthy condition of blood, and strong by exercise,
receive their beauty from the very things from which they receive their
strength. They are fresh-colored, active, and supple, neither too much
nor too little in flesh. Paint and polish them with feminine cosmetics,
and admiration ceases; the very pains taken to make them appear more
beautiful add to the dislike we conceive for them. Yet a magnificent,
and suitable, dress adds authority to man; but an effeminate dress, the
garb of luxury and softness, lays open the corruption of the heart
without adding to the ornament of the body. In like manner, translucent
and flashy elocution weakens the things it clothes. I would, therefore,
recommend care about words, but solicitude about things.

The choicest expressions are for the most part inherent in things, and
are seen in their own light, but we search after them as if always
hiding and stealing themselves away from us. Thus we never think that
what ought to be said is at hand; we fetch it from afar, and force our
invention. Eloquence requires a more manly temper, and if its whole
body be sound and vigorous, it is quite regardless of the nicety of
paring the nails and adjusting the hair.

THE DANGER OF VERBIAGE

It often happens, too, that an oration becomes worse by attending to
these niceties, because simplicity, the language of truth, is its
greatest ornament, and affectation the reverse. The expressions that
show care, and would also appear as newly formed, fine, and eloquent,
lose the graces at which they aim, and are far from being striking and
well received, because they obscure the sense by spreading a sort of
shadow about it, or by being too crowded they choke it up, like
thick-sown grain that must run up too spindling. That which may be
spoken in a plain, direct manner we express by paraphrase; and we use
repetitions where to say a thing once is enough; and what is well
signified by one word, we load with many, and most things we choose to
signify rather by circumlocution than by proper and pertinent terms.

A proper word, indeed, now has no charms, nothing appearing to us fine
which might have been said by anothe