yield us small instruction in the path we seek.

It is time we harked back to our own sign-posts. Verse is written in
metre and strict rhythm; prose, without metre and with the freest
possible rhythm. That distinction seems simple enough, but it carries
consequences very far from simple. Let me give you an illustration taken
almost at hazard from Milton, from the Second Book of "Paradise
Regained":--

Up to a hill anon his steps he reared
From whose high top to ken the prospect round,
If cottage were in view, sheep-cote or herd;
But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote, none he saw.

These few lines are verse, are obviously verse with the accent of poetry;
while as obviously they are mere narrative and tell us of the simplest
possible incident--how Christ climbed a hill to learn what could be seen
from the top. Yet observe, line for line and almost word for word, how
strangely they differ from prose. Mark the inversions: 'Up to a hill anon
his steps he reared,' 'But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote, none he saw.'
Mark next the diction--'his steps he reared.' In prose we should not rear
our steps up the Gog-magog hills, or even more Alpine fastnesses; nor,
arrived at the top, should we 'ken' the prospect round; we might 'con,'
but should more probably 'survey' it. Even 'anon' is a tricky word in
prose, though I deliberately palmed it off on you a few minutes ago. Mark
thirdly the varied repetition, 'if cottage were in view, sheep-cote or
herd--but cottage, herd, or sheep-cote, none he saw.' Lastly compare the
whole with such an account as you or I or Cluvienus would write in plain
prose:--