Stili eminentia.—­Virgil.—­Tully.—­Sallust.—­It is no wonder men’s eminence appears but in their own way.  Virgil’s felicity left him in prose, as Tully’s forsook him in verse.  Sallust’s orations are read in the honour of story, yet the most eloquent.  Plato’s speech, which he made for Socrates, is neither worthy of the patron nor the person defended.  Nay, in the same kind of oratory, and where the matter is one, you shall have him that reasons strongly, open negligently; another that prepares well, not fit so well.  And this happens not only to brains, but to bodies.  One can wrestle well, another run well, a third leap or throw the bar, a fourth lift or stop a cart going; each hath his way of strength.  So in other creatures—­some dogs are for the deer, some for the wild boar, some are fox-hounds, some otter-hounds.  Nor are all horses for the coach or saddle, some are for the cart and paniers.

De Claris Oratoribus.—­I have known many excellent men that would speak suddenly to the admiration of their hearers, who upon study and premeditation have been forsaken by their own wits, and no way answered their fame; their eloquence was greater than their reading, and the things they uttered better than those they knew; their fortune deserved better of them than their care.  For men of present spirits, and of greater wits than study, do please more in the things they invent than in those they bring.  And I have heard some of them compelled to speak, out of necessity, that have so infinitely exceeded themselves, as it was better both for them and their auditory that they were so surprised, not prepared.  Nor was it safe then to cross them, for their adversary, their anger made them more eloquent.  Yet these men I could not but love and admire, that they returned to their studies.  They left not diligence (as many do) when their rashness prospered; for diligence is a great aid, even to an indifferent wit; when we are not contented with the examples of our own age, but would know the face of the former.  Indeed, the more we confer with the more we profit by, if the persons be chosen.

Dominus Verulamius.—­One, though he be excellent and the chief, is not to be imitated alone; for no imitator ever grew up to his author; likeness is always on this side truth.  Yet there happened in my time one noble speaker who was full of gravity in his speaking; his language (where he could spare or pass by a jest) was nobly censorious.  No man ever spake more neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered.  No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces.  His hearers could not cough, or look aside from him, without loss.  He commanded where he spoke, and had his judges angry and pleased at his devotion.  No man had their affections more in his power.  The fear of every man that heard him was lest he should make an end.