you as a Soldier, or a Statesman, were only to betray my own
ignorance: and I could hope no better success from it, than that
miserable Rhetorician had, who solemnly declaimed before HANNIBAL "of the
Conduct of Armies, and the Art of War." I can only say, in general, that
the Souls of other men shine out at little cranies; they understand some
one thing, perhaps, to admiration, while they are darkened on all the
other parts: but your Lordship's Soul is an entire Globe of Light,
breaking out on every side; and if I have only discovered one beam of it,
'tis not that the light falls unequally, but because the body which
receives it, is of unequal parts.

The acknowledgement of which, is a fair occasion offered me, to retire
from the consideration of your Lordship to that of myself. I here present
you, my Lord! with that in Print, which you had the goodness not to
dislike upon the Stage; and account it happy to have met you here in
England: it being, at best, like small wines, to be drunk out upon the
place [i.e., _of vintage, where produced_]; and has not body enough to
endure the sea.

I know not, whether I have been so careful of the Plot and Language, as I
ought: but for the latter, I have endeavoured to write English, as near as
I could distinguish it from the tongue of pedants, and that of affected
travellers. Only, I am sorry that, speaking so noble a language as we do,
we have not a more certain Measure of it, as they have in France: where
they have an "Academy" erected for that purpose, and endowed with large
privileges by the present King [_LOUIS XIV._]. I wish, we might, at
length, leave to borrow words from other nations; which is now a
wantonness in us, not a necessity: but so long as some affect to speak
them, there will not want others who will have the boldness to write them.

But I fear, lest defending the received words; I shall be accused for
following the New Way: I mean, of writing Scenes in Verse; though, to
speak properly, 'tis no so much a New Way amongst us, as an Old Way new
revived. For, many years [i.e., 1561] before SHAKESPEARE's Plays, was the
Tragedy of _Queen_ [or rather _King_] _GORBODUC_ [_of which, however, the
authentic title is "FERREX and PORREX"_] in English Verse; written by
that famous Lord BUCKHURST, afterwards Earl of DORSET, and progenitor to
that excellent Person, [_Lord BUCKHURST, see_ p. 503] who, as he inherits
his Soul and Title, I wish may inherit his good fortune!

But