[The Blowing of the Wind.]

[In the Torophilus, Ascham has occasion to treat very minutely the difficulties which the archer experiences from the blowing of the wind. His own experience of these difficulties in the course of his sport, seems to have made him a natural philosopher to that extent, before the proper time.]

court, which be born and be fitter rather for the cart; some to be masters and rule other, which never yet began to rule themselves; some always to jangle and talk, which rather should hear and keep silence; some to teach, which rather should learn; some to be priests, which were fitter to be clerks. And this perverse judgment of the world, when men measure themselves amiss, bringeth much disorder and great unseemliness to the whole body of the commonwealth, as if a man should wear his hose upon his head, or a woman go with a sword and a buckler, every man would take it as a great uncomeliness, although it be but a trifle in respect of the other.

This perverse judgement of men hindereth nothing be unfittest for learning, be chiefly set to learning. so much as learning, because commonly those that As if a man now-a-days have two sons, the one impotent, weak, sickly, lisping, stuttering, and stammering, or having any mis-shape in his body; what doth the This boy is fit father of such one commonly say? for nothing else, but to set to learning and make a priest of, as who would say, the outcasts of the world, having neither countenance, tongue, nor wit (for of a perverse body cometh commonly a perverse mind), be good enough to make those men of, which shall be appointed to preach God's holy word, and minister his blessed sacraments, besides other most weighty matters in the commonwealth; put oft times, and worthily, to learned men's discretion and charge; when rather such an office so high in dignity, so goodly in which administration, should be committed to no man, should not have a countenance full of comeliness, to allure good men, a body full of manly authority to fear ill men, a wit apt for all learning, with tongue And although and voice able to persuade all men. few such men as these can be found in a common.

To see the wind with a man's eyes, it is impossible, the nature of it is so fine and subtle; yet this experience of the wind had I once myself, and that was in the great snow which fell four years ago. I rode in the high way betwixt Topcliff upon Swale and Boroughbridge, the way being somewhat trodden afore by wayfaring men; the fields on both sides were plain, and lay almost yard deep with snow; the night before had been a little frost, so that the snow was hard and crusted above; that morning the sun shone bright and clear, the wind was whistling aloft, and sharp, according to the time of the year; the snow in the highway lay loose and trodden with horse feet; so as the wind blew, it took the loose snow with it, and made it so slide upon the snow in the field, which was hard and crusted by reason of the frost overnight, that thereby I might see very well the whole nature of the wind as it blew that day. And I had a great delight and pleasure to mark it, which maketh me now far better to remember it. Sometime the wind would be not past two yards broad, and so it would carry the snow as far as I could see. Another time the snow would blow over half the field at once. Sometime the snow would tumble softly, bye and bye it would fly wonderful fast. And this I perceived also, that the wind goeth by streams and not whole together. For I should see one stream within a score on me, then the space of two score, no snow would stir, but, after so much quantity of ground, another stream of snow, at the same very time, should be carried likewise, but not equally; for the one would stand still, when the other flew apace, and so continue sometime swiftlier, sometime slowlier, sometime broader, sometime narrower, as far as I could see. Nor it flew not straight, but sometime it crooked this way, sometime that way, and sometime it ran round about in a comThis perverse judgment of fathers, as concerning pass. And sometime the snow would be lift clean the fitness and unfitness of their children, causeth the from the ground up to the air, and bye and bye it commonwealth have many unfit ministers: and seeing would be all clapt to the ground, as though there had that ministers be, as a man would say, instruments been no wind at all; straightway it would rise and fly wherewith the commonwealth doth work all her matagain. And that which was the most marvel of all, ters withal, I marvel how it chanceth that a poor shoeat one time two drifts of snow flew, the one out of the maker hath so much wit, that he will prepare no west into the east, the other out of the north into the instrument for his science, neither knife nor awl, nor east. And I saw two winds, by reason of the snow, nothing else, which is not very fit for him. The comthe one cross over the other, as it had been two high-monwealth can be content to take at a fond father's ways. And again, I should hear the wind blow in the air, when nothing was stirred at the ground. And when all was still where I rode, not very far from me the snow should be lifted wonderfully. This experience made me more marvel at the nature of the wind, than it made me cunning in the knowledge of the wind; but yet thereby I learned perfectly that it is no marvel at all, though men in wind lose their length in shooting, seeing so many ways the wind is so vaiable in blowing.

[Occupations should be chosen suitable to the Natural Faculties.]

If men would go about matters which they should do, and be fit for, and not such things which wilfully they desire, and yet be unfit for, verily greater matters in the commonwealth than shooting should be in better case than they be. This ignorance in men which know not for what time, and to what thing they be fit, causeth some wish to be rich, for whom it were better a great deal to be poor; other to be meddling in every man's matter, for whom it were more honesty to be quiet and still; some to desire to be in the

wealth, yet surely a goodly disposed man will both in his mind think fit, and with all his study labour to get such men as I speak of, or rather better, if better can be gotten, for such an high administration, which is most properly appointed to God's own matters and businesses.

hand the riffraff of the world, to make those instruments of wherewithal she should work the highest matters under heaven. And surely an awl of lead is not so unprofitable in a shoemaker's shop, as an unfit minister made of gross metal is unseemly in the commonwealth. Fathers in old time, among the noble Persians, might not do with their children as they thought good, but as the judgment of the commonwealth always thought best. This fault of fathers bringeth many a blot with it, to the great deformity of the commonwealth: and here surely I can praise gentlewomen, which have always at hand their glasses, to see if any thing be amiss, and so will amend it; yet the commonwealth, having the glass of knowledge in every man's hand, doth see such uncomeliness in it, and yet winketh at it. This fault, and many such like, might be soon wiped away, if fathers would bestow their children always on that thing, whereunto nature hath ordained them most apt and fit. For if youth be grafted straight and not awry, the whole commonwealth will flourish thereafter. When this is done, then must every man begin to be more ready to amend himself, than to check another, measuring their matters with that wise proverb of Apollo, Know

thyself: that is to say, learn to know what thou art few, whether your example be old or young, who withable, fit, and apt unto, and follow that.

[Detached Observations from the Schoolmaster.] It is pity that commonly more care is had, and that among very wise men, to find out rather a cunning man for their horse, than a cunning man for their children. To the one they will gladly give a stipend of 200 crowns by the year, and loth to offer the other 200 shillings. God, that sitteth in heaven, laugheth their choice to scorn, and rewardeth their liberality as it should; for he suffereth them to have tame and well ordered horse, but wild and unfortunate children.

out learning have gathered, by long experience a little wisdom, and some happiness; and when you do consider what mischief they have committed, what dangers they have escaped (and yet twenty for one do perish in the adventure), then think well with yourself, whether ye would that your own son should come to wisdom and happiness by the way of such experience or no.

Thus, experience of all fashions in youth, being in proof always dangerous, in issue seldom lucky, is a way indeed to overmuch knowledge; yet used comcurious affection of mind, or driven by some hard monly of such men, which be either carried by some necessity of life, to hazard the trial of overmany perilous adventures.

sometime chief justice would tell of himself. When It is a notable tale, that old Sir Roger Chamloe, he was Ancient in inn of court certain young gentletain misorders; and one of the lustiest said, ‘Sir, we men were brought before him to be corrected for cerOne example, whether love or fear doth work more be young gentlemen; and wise men before us have in a child for virtue and learning, I will gladly report; proved all fashions, and yet those have done full which may be heard with some pleasure, and followed Sir Roger had been a good fellow in his youth. But well.' This they said, because it was well known, with more profit. Before I went into Germany, I he answered them very wisely. Indeed,' saith he, ‘in came to Broadgate, in Leicestershire, to take my leave youth I was as you are now and I had twelve fellows of that noble Lady Jane Grey, to whom I was exceed-like unto myself, but not one of them came to a good ing much beholden. Her parents, the duke and the end. And therefore, follow not my example in youth, duchess, with all the household, gentlemen and gentle- but follow my counsel in age, if ever ye think to women, were hunting in the park. I found her in her chamber, reading Phoedon Platonis in Greek, and that come to this place, or to these years, that I am come with as much delight, as some gentlemen would read unto; less ye meet either with poverty or Tyburn in the way.' a merry tale in Bocace. After salutation and duty done, with some other talk, I asked her, why she would lose such pastime in the park? Smiling, she answered me, I wiss, all their sport in the park is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in Plato. Alas! good folk, they never felt what true pleasure meant.' And how came you, Madam,' quoth I, to this deep knowledge of pleasure? And what did chiefly allure you unto it, seeing not many women, but very few men, have attained thereunto?' 'I will tell you,' quoth she, and tell you a truth which, perchance, ye will marvel at. One of the greatest benefits that ever God gave me, is, that he sent me so sharp and severe parents, and so gentle a schoolmaster. For when I am in presence either of father or mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go, eat, drink, be merry or sad, be sewing, playing, dancing, or doing anything else, I must do it, as it were, in such weight, measure, and number, even so perfectly as God made the world, or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea, presently, sometimes with pinches, nips, and bobs, and other ways, which I will not name for the honour I bear them, so without measure misordered, that I think myself in hell, till time come that I must go to Mr Elmer; who teacheth me so gently, so pleasantly, with such fair allurements to learning, that I think all the time nothing, whiles I am with him. And when I am called from him, I fall on weeping, because, whatever I do else, but learning, is full of grief, trouble, fear, and whole misliking And thus my book hath been so much my pleasure, and bringeth daily to me more pleasure and more, that, in respect of it, all other pleasures, in very deed, be but trifles and troubles unto me.'

unto me.

6

[In favour of the learning of more languages than one]-I have been a looker on in the cockpit of learning these many years; and one cock only have I known, which, with one wing, even at this day, doth pass all other, in mine opinion, that ever I saw in any pit in England, though they had two wings. Yet nevertheless, to fly well with one wing, to run fast with one leg, be rather rare masteries, much to be marvelled at, than sure examples, safely to be followed. A bishop that now liveth a good man, whose judgment in religion I better like, than his opinion in perfectness in other learning, said once unto me; 'We have no need now of the Greek tongue, when all things be translated into Latin.' But the good man understood not, that even the best translation, is for mere necessity but an evil imped wing to fly withal, or a heavy stump leg of wood to go withal. Such, the higher they fly, the sooner they falter and fail: the faster they run the ofter they stumble and sorer they fall. Such as will needs so fly, may fly at a pye and catch a daw: and such runners, as commonly they, shove and shoulder, to stand foremost, yet in the end they come behind others, and deserve but the hopshackles, if the masters of the game be right judgers.

6

[With reference to what took place at the univerLearning teacheth more in one year than experience sities on the accession of Mary]—And what good could in twenty; and learning teacheth safely when expe- chance then to the universities, when some of the rience maketh mo miserable than wise. He hazardeth greatest, though not of the wisest, nor best learned, sore that waxeth wise by experience. An unhappy nor best men neither of that side, did labour to permaster he is, that is made cunning by many ship-suade, that ignorance was better than knowledge,' wrecks; a miserable merchant, that is neither rich which they meant, not for the laity only, but also for nor wise but after some bankrouts. It is costly the greatest rabble of their spirituality, what other And therefore wisdom that is bought by experience. We know by pretence openly soever they made. experience itself, that it is a marvelous pain, to find did some of them at Cambridge (whom I will not out but a short way by long wandering. And surely, name openly) cause hedge priests fettel out of the he that would prove wise by experience, he may be country, to be made fellows in the university; saying witty indeed, but even like swift runner, that runin their talk privily, and declaring by their deeds neth fast out of his way, and upon the night, he openly, that he was fellow good enough for their knoweth not whither. And verily they be fewest in time, if he could wear a gown and a tippet comely, and number that be happy or wise by unlearned expe- have his crown shorn fair and roundly; and could rience. And look well upon the former life of those

1 Fetched.

turn his porteus and piel readily.' Which I speak not to reprove any order either of apparel, or other duty, that may be well and indifferently used; but to note the misery of that time, when the benefits provided for learning were so foully misused.

member), after some reasoning we concluded both what was in our opinion to be looked for at his hand, that would well and advisedly write an history. First point was, to write nothing false; next, to be bold to say any truth: whereby is avoided two great faultsflattery and hatred. For which two points, Cæsar is read to his great praise; and Jovius the Italian to his just reproach. Then to mark diligently the causes, counsels, acts, and issues, in all great attempts: and in causes, what is just or unjust; in counsels, what is purposed wisely or rashly; in acts, what is done courageously or faintly; and of every issue, to note some general lesson of wisdom and wariness for like matters in time to come, wherein Polybius in Greek, and Philip Comines in French, have done the duties of wise and worthy writers. Diligence also must be used in keeping truly the order of time, and describing lively both the site of places and nature of persons, not only for the outward shape of the body, but also for the inward disposition of the mind, as Thucydides doth in many places very trimly; and Homer everywhere, and that always most excellently; which observation is chiefly to be marked in him. And our Chaucer doth the same, very praiseworthily: mark him well, and confer him with any other that writeth The style must be always plain and open; yet some time higher and lower, as matters do rise and fall. For if proper and natural words, in well-joined sentences, do lively express the matter, be it troublesome, quiet, angry, or pleasant, a man shall think not to be reading, but present in doing of the same. And herein Livy of all other in any tongue, by mine opinion, carrieth away the praise.

And what was the fruit of this seed? Verily, judgment in doctrine was wholly altered; order in discipline very sore changed; the love of good learning began suddenly to wax cold; the knowledge of the tongues (in spite of some that therein had flourished) was manifestly contemned: and so, the way of right study purposely perverted; the choice of good authors, of malice confounded; old sophistry, I say not well, not old, but that new rotten sophistry, began to beard, and shoulder logic in her own tongue: yea, I know that heads were cast together, and counsel devised, that Duns, with all the rabble of barbarous questionists, should have dispossessed of their place and room, Aristotle, Plato, Tully, and Demosthenes, whom good M. Redman, and those two worthy stars of that university, M. Cheke and M. Smith, with their scholars, had brought to flourish as notably in Cambridge, as ever they did in Greece and in Italy; and for the doctrine of those four, the four pillars of learning, Cambridge then giving no place to no university, neither in France, Spain, Germany, nor Italy. Also, in out-in our time in their proudest tongue, whosoever list. ward behaviour, then began simplicity in apparel to be laid aside, courtly gallantness to be taken up; frugality in diet was privately misliked, town going to good cheer openly used; honest pastimes, joined with labour, left off in the fields; unthrifty and idle games haunted corners, and occupied the nights: contention in youth nowhere for learning; factions in the elders everywhere for trifles.

All which miseries at length, by God's providence, had their end 16th November 1558.* Since which time, the young spring hath shot up so fair as now there be in Cambridge again many good plants.

[Qualifications of an Historian.]

[From the Discourse on the Affairs of Germany. The writer is addressing his friend John Astely.]

After the publication of Ascham's works, it became more usual for learned men to compose in English, more particularly when they aimed at influencing public opinion. But as religious controversy was what then chiefly agitated the minds of men, it follows that the great bulk of the English works of that age are now of little

When you and I read Livy together (if you do re-interest.

Third Period.

THE REIGNS OF ELIZABETH, JAMES I., AND CHARLES I. [1558 TO 1649.]

POETS.

study of classical literature, the invention of printing, the freedom with which religion was disN the preced-cussed, together with the general substitution of the philosophy of Plato for that of Aristotle, had everywhere given activity and strength to the minds of men. The immediate effects of these novelties upon English literature, were the enrichment of the language, as already mentioned, by a great variety of words from the classic tongues, the establishment of better models of thought and style, and the allowance of greater freedom to the fancy and powers of observation in the exercise of the literary calling. Not only the Greek and Roman writers, but those of modern Italy and France, where letters experienced an earlier revival, were now translated into English, and being liberally diffused by the press, served to excite a taste for elegant reading in lower branches of society than had ever before felt the genial influence of letters. The dissemination of the Scriptures in the vulgar tongue, while it greatly affected the language and ideas of the people, was also of no small avail in giving new direction to the thoughts

ing sections, the history of Eng lish literature is brought to a period when its infancy may be said to cease, and its manhood to commence. In the earlier half of the sixteenth century, it was sensibly affected by a variety of influences, which, for an age before, had operated powerfully in expanding the intellect of European nations. The 1 Breviary. * The date of the accession of Queen Elizabeth.

of literary men, to whom these antique Oriental compositions presented numberless incidents, images, and sentiments, unknown before, and of the richest and most interesting kind.

that short period, we shall find the names of almost all the very great men that this nation has ever produced, the names of Shakspeare, and Bacon, and Spenser, and Sydney, and Hooker, and Taylor, and Barrow, and Raleigh, and Napier, and Hobbes, and many others; men, all of them, not merely of great talents and accomplishments, but of vast compass and reach of understanding, and of minds truly creative and original; not perfecting art by the delicacy of their taste, or digesting knowledge by the substantial additions to the materials upon which taste and reason must hereafter be employed, and enlarging to an incredible and unparalleled extent both the stores and the resources of the human faculties.'

THOMAS SACKVILLE.

In the reign of Elizabeth, some poetical names of importance precede that of Spenser. The first is THOMAS SACKVILLE (1536-1608), ultimately Earl

Among other circumstances favourable to literature at this period, must be reckoned the encouragement given to it by Queen Elizabeth, who was herself very learned and addicted to poetical composition, and had the art of filling her court with men qualified to shine in almost every department of intellectual exertion. Her successors, James and Charles, re-justness of their reasonings, but making vast and sembled her in some of these respects, and during their reigns, the impulse which she had given to literature experienced rather an increase than a decline. There was, indeed, something in the policy, as well as in the personal character of all these sovereigns, which proved favourable to literature. The study of the belles lettres was in some measure identified with the courtly and arbitrary principles of the time, not perhaps so much from any enlightened spirit in those who supported such principles, as from a desire of opposing the puritans, and other malcontents, whose religious doctrines taught them to despise some departments of elegant literature, and utterly to condemn others. There can be no doubt that the drama, for instance, chiefly owed that encouragement which it received under Elizabeth and her successors, to a spirit of hostility to the puritans, who, not unjustly, repudiated it for its immorality. We must at the same time allow much to the influence which such a court as that of England, during these three reigns, was calculated to have among men of literary tendencies. Almost all the poets, and many of the other writers, were either courtiers themselves, or under the immediate protection of courtiers, and were constantly experiencing the smiles, and occasionally the solid benefactions, of royalty. Whatever, then, was refined, or gay, or sentimental, in this country and at this time, came with its full influence upon literature.

The works brought forth under these circumstances have been very aptly compared to the productions of a soil for the first time broken up, when 'all indigenous plants spring up at once with a rank and irrepressible fertility, and display whatever is peculiar and excellent in their nature, on a scale the most conspicuous and magnificent."* The ability to write having been, as it were, suddenly created, the whole world of character, imagery, and sentiment, as well as of information and philosophy, lay ready for the use of those who possessed the gift, and was appropriated accordingly. As might be expected, where there was less rule of art than opulence of materials, the productions of these writers are often deficient in taste, and contain much that is totally aside from the purpose. To pursue the simile above quoted, the crops are not so clean as if they had been reared under systematic cultivation. On this account, the refined taste of the eighteenth century condemned most of the productions of the sixteenth and seventeenth to oblivion, and it is only of late that they have once more obtained their deserved reputation. After every proper deduction has been made, enough remains to fix this era as by far the mightiest in the history of English literature, or indeed of human intellect and capacity. There never was anything,' says the writer above quoted, 'like the sixty or seventy years that elapsed from the middle of Elizabeth's reign, to the period of the Restoration. In point of real force and origi- | nality of genius, neither the age of Pericles, nor the age of Augustus, nor the times of Leo X., nor of Louis XIV., can come at all into comparison; for in

* Edinburgh Review, xviii. 275.

Thomas Sackville.

of Dorset and Lord High Treasurer of England, and who will again come before us in the character of a dramatic writer. In 1557, Sackville formed the design of a poem, entitled The Mirrour for Magistrates, of which he wrote only the 'Induction,' and one legend on the life of Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham. In imitation of Dante and some other of his predecessors, he lays the scene of his poem in the infernal regions, to which he descends under the guidance of an allegorical personage named SORROW. It was his object to make all the great persons of English history, from the Conquest downwards, pass here in review, and each tell his own story, as a warning to existing statesmen; but other duties compelled the poet, after he had written what has been stated, to break off, and commit the completion of the work to two poets of inferior note, Richard Baldwyne and George Ferrers. The whole poem is one of a very remarkable kind for the age, and the part executed by Sackville exhibits in some parts a strength of description and a power of drawing allegorical characters, scarcely inferior to Spenser.

[Allegorical characters from the Mirrour for Magistrates.]
And first, within the porch and jaws of hell,
Sat deep Remorse of Conscience, all besprent
With tears; and to herself oft would she tell
Her wretchedness, and, cursing, never stent
To sob and sigh, but ever thus lament