But yet, presuppose it were inseparable (as indeed it seemeth
Scaliger judgeth) truly it were an inseparable commendation. For if
_oratio_ next to _ratio_, speech next to reason, be the greatest gift
bestowed upon mortality: that cannot be praiseless, which doth most
polish that blessing of speech, which considers each word, not only
(as a man may say) by his forcible quality, but by his best measured
quantity, carrying even in themselves, a harmony: without (perchance)
number, measure, order, proportion, be in our time grown odious. But
lay aside the just praise it hath, by being the only fit speech for
music (music, I say, the most divine striker of the senses): thus much
is undoubtedly true, that if reading be foolish, without remembering,
memory being the only treasurer of knowledge, those words which are
fittest for memory, are likewise most convenient for knowledge.
Now, that verse far exceedeth prose in the knitting up of the memory,
the reason is manifest. The words (besides their delight, which hath
a great affinity to memory), being so set, as one word cannot be lost,
but the whole work fails: which accuseth itself, calleth the remembrance
back to itself, and so most strongly confirmeth it.
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