But while my writing in English may seem not amiss for the service of my country, my manner of writing may offend some in seeming fastidious and obscure, and I may be brought to task as failing in what I professed, by dealing with matters too hard for the ignorant to understand, or using too close a style and too rare terms for plain folks to follow. All these difficulties are very great foes to the perception of the ordinary man, who can understand only so far as he has been trained, and they are no good friends to my purpose, as I write for the benefit of the many, who are untrained and unskilful. But although these objections make a very plausible show, yet I must beg leave to plead my own cause in regard to matter, style, and the use of terms. Indeed half my answer is given when I say that I mean well to my country, for in attempting difficulties one may claim pardon for defects, and what I do is in the interest of our tongue, which I desire to see enriched in every way and honoured with every ornament of eloquence, so that it can vie with any foreign language.
But first to examine the charge of hardness in the subject-matter, which the reader is said to have difficulty in understanding. In what, I pray you, consists this hardness that is said to lie in the matter? Or rather does not all hardness belong to the person, and not to the thing, in this case as everywhere else? If the person who undertakes to teach does not know his subject well enough to make it properly understood, is the thing therefore hard that is not thoroughly grasped? Or if the learner either fails to understand owing to deficient knowledge, or will not make the needful effort owing to some evil disposition, is the thing therefore hard which is so crossed by personal infirmity? Surely not. There is no hardness in anything which is expressed by a learned pen, however far removed from common use, (though to shield negligence the charge is often made), if the teacher knows it sufficiently, and the learner be willing and not wayward. For what are the things which we handle in learning? Are they not of our own choice? Are they not our own inventions? Are they not meant to supply our own needs? And was not the first inventor very well able to open up the thing he invented before he commended it to others? Or did those who received it do so before they were instructed as to its use? Or could blunt ignorance have won such credit in a doubtful case, though professing to bring advantage, that it was believed before it had persuaded those who had any foresight, by plain evidence that the thing was profitable, as well for the present as for the time to come? If the first inventor could both find and persuade, his follower must do likewise, or be at fault himself; he must deliver the matter from the suspicion of hardness, which arises from his own defect in exposition. If he who reads fails to grasp the meaning through ignorance, he is to be pardoned for his infirmity; if having some capacity he fails from lack of will, he is punished enough by being left in ignorance; and if while able to follow with the best he keeps with the worst, blinded understanding is the greatest darkness, and punishes the evil humour with the depraving of reason. If an expounder, such as I am now, be himself weak, he is ill-advised if he either writes before he knows, or does not mend when he has written amiss, provided he knows where and how. Yet the reader’s courtesy is some protection against error to him who writes, as the writer’s pardon is a protection to him who reads, if simple ignorance is the only fault, without defect in goodwill.