often sincere; but who is willing to own, even to himself, how much of his knowledge, how much of his mental power, has been communicated by a teacher? How many of his thoughts are mere recollections? However much we may profit by the wisdom of others, it is as much as most of us can do to forgive them for being wiser, or earlier wise, than ourselves. The utterance of grateful sentiments is wonderfully facilitated when it can be accompanied with certain qualifying clauses and admissions. Thus Ascham evidently dwells with the more satisfaction on his obligations to Medcalf, because the latter was a man meanly learned, and a Papist.

Ascham, however, had rightly a very moderate estimation of that sort of learning which can be taught by voice or book, and passively received into the memory. With as little of pugnacity or indocility as ever belonged to a lively and enquiring mind, he held fast the truth, that it is only by its own free agency that the intellect can either be enriched or invigorated;-that true knowledge is an act, a continuous immanent act, and at the same time an operation of the reflective faculty on its own objects. How he applied this idea to the purposes of education, his "Schoolmaster," written in the maturity of his powers, and out of the fulness of his experience, sufficiently shows. But the idea, though undeveloped, wrought in him from his earliest youth: his favourite maxim was Docendo disces. The affectionate wish and strenuous effort to impart knowledge is the best possible condition for receiving it. The necessity of being intelligible to others brings with it an obligation to understand ourselves; to find words apt to our ideas, and ideas commensurate to our words; to seek out just analogies and happy illustrations. But, above all, by teaching, or more properly by reciprocal intercommunication of instruction, we gain a practical acquaintance with the universal laws of thought, and with the process of perception, abstracted from the accidents of the individual constitu tion for it is only by a sympathetic intercourse with other minds that we gain any true knowledge of our own. Of course we speak of free and friendly teaching, not of despotic dictation, than which there is no habit more likely to perpetuate presumptuous ignorance.

The study of the Greek language was at that time new in western Europe, and in England a mere novelty. To Ascham it was as "the trouble of a new delight:" every lesson which he gained he was eager to impart he taught Greek, he wrote Greck, he talked Greek, no wonder if he dreamed in Greek. There might be a little vanity in this but whatever vanity he possessed (and he certainly loved to talk of himself) was so tempered by modesty, and blended with such candour, such glad acknowledgment of others' merits, that the sternest.

judgments could hardly call it a foible. By this industrious communication and daily practice he acquired, at a very early period, such a command of the Greek vocabulary, and so vernacular a turn of phrase, that his Senior, Robert Pember, to whom he had addressed an epistle in that tongue, assures him that his letter might have been written at Athens. But the critical nicety of modern scholarship was then unknown, and it is very unlikely that Pember himself felt or understood that perfect atticism upon which he compliments his young friend. Pember's epistle of course is in Latin, interspersed with Greek, and curious enough to be worthy of translation. It is to this effect:"Dearly beloved Roger,-I render thee thanks for thy Greek epistle, which might seem to have been indited at ancient Athens, exactly hast thou attained the propriety of Greck phrase: of exquisite penmanship it is, as are all thine. Use diligence, that thou may'st be perfect, not according to the stoical, but to lyrical perfection, that thou may'st touch the harp aright. Continue to read Greek with the boys, for thou wilt profit more by one little fable of Æsop, read and explained by thyself, than if thou shouldst hear the whole Iliad expounded in Latin by the learnedest man now living. Peruse Pliny, in which author is the greatest knowledge of things, along with the most florid opulence of Latin speech.”*

SO

In this letter we may notice, first, the testimonial to the beauty of Ascham's penmanship, which proved a principal mean of his advance

I wish young scholars paid attention to this recommendation. Pliny is never read at school, and very seldom at college; yet I have the high authority of Southey for saying, that he is the most instructive of all the Roman authors. The extent of his knowledge is almost marvellous; his veracity, where he speaks from personal observation, is daily approved by modern experiment and discovery; and even his credulity adds to his value, by disclosing more fully the actual state of physical science in his age and country. It is surely quite as interesting to know what pro perties the passions or the imaginations of men have ascribed to a plant or animal, as to count its stamina and petals, or ascertain the number of its vertebræ. Both are very useful. But the highest recommendation of Pliny is his moral wisdom, his almost christian piety, his intelligent humanity. Of all the Romans he was the least of a Roman, and approximated nearest to the pure idea of man.

Many of the most useful of the Greek and Roman authors are wholly excluded from the common course of education, under the absurd notion that they are not classical. One might imagine that the purity of Latin speech were as seriously sacred as a virgin's chastity. Cardinal Bembo declined reading the scriptures (in the vulgate translation) for fear of corrupting his Latinity; and I have heard with my own ears a young student of divinity give a similar reason for not reading St. Augustine. The feeling is at bottom an aristocratical one. From causes not necessary to be discussed in this place, classical erudition is not only esteemed the befitting ornament of a born gentleman, but has the power to "gentle the condition" of puddle blood, an efficacy never ascribed to any other kind of knowledge.

ment: secondly, a proof that he was actually engaged in the tuition of boys thirdly, that in his plans, both for his own improvement, and for that of his pupils, he diverged from the common routine of lectures : fourthly, that his friend, well discerning the bent and purpose of his genius, urged him to proceed with those humane and elegant studies, on which some austerer judgments looked with an evil eye. From one passage of this epistle, certain dull, literal brains have told us, that "Mr. Robert Pember advised him to learn instrumental music, which would prove a very agreeable entertainment to him after his severer studies, and was easy to be attained by him, as he was already a great master of vocal music." It is certainly very possible, that Pember may have given him such advice, but it is nevertheless certain, that he does not give it in the letter in question. There is no allusion to recreation at all. The whole drift of the writer is an exhortation to perseverance in a course of study already commenced; and surely Mr. Pember, however he might approve of music as a relaxation, (which, by the way, Roger Ascham did not,) had more sense than to advise a young man, intended for the church, dare operam, to devote all the energies of his soul, to make a perfect fiddler of himself. But it is not for every one to interpret parables.*

So far was Ascham from devoting himself to music with that intensity which Pember has been supposed to recommend, that he appears to have had no manner of taste, but rather a platonic antipathy for it, even as an amusement. Nor would he be well pleased with the present course of education in his University, if we judge by the sentiments which he expresses in his Schoolmaster, and Toxophilus.

"Some wits, moderate enough by nature, be many times marred by over much study and use of some sciences, namely, music, arithmetic, and geometry. These sciences as they sharpen men's wits over much, so they charge men's manners over sore, if they be not moderately mingled, and wisely applied to some good use of life. Mark all mathematical heads, which be wholly and only bent to those sciences, how solitary they be themselves, how unapt to serve in the world. This is not only known by common experience, but uttered long before by wise men's judgment and sentence. Galen saith, much music marreth men's manners, and Plato hath a notable place of the same thing, and excellently translated by Tully himself. Of this matter I wrote once more

*The words of the original are-" Da operam, at sis perfectus, non Stoicus, ảλλà Avpikòç, ut belle pulses lyram." No doubt in the same sense that Socrates was commanded by the Oracle to make music; or, to appeal to a far higher authority, as David "shewed a dark speech on the harp," i. e. opened and exalted the understanding by the aid of the imagination.

at large, twenty years ago, in my book of shooting." The passage of the Toxophilus referred to, is as follows.

Whatsoever ye judge, this I am sure, that lutes, harps, barbitons, sambukes, and other instruments, every one which standeth by quick and fine fingering, be condemned of Aristotle, as not to be brought in and used among them, which study for learning and virtue. Much music marreth men's manners, saith Galen. Although some men will say that it doth not so, but rather recreateth and maketh quick a man's mind, yet methinks, by reason it doth, as honey doth to a man's stomach, which at the first receiveth it well; but afterward it maketh it unfit to abide any strong nourishing meat, or else any wholesome sharp and quick drink; and, even so in a manner, these instruments make a man's wit so soft and smooth, so tender and quaisy, that they be less able to brook strong and rough study. Wits be not sharpened, but rather made blunt, with such soft sweetness, even as good edges be blunted, which men whet soft chalk-stones."

upon

These opinions require considerable limitation. Music is so high a delight to such as are really capable of enjoying it, that there is some danger of its incroaching too much upon the student's time, and it is frequently a passport to very undesirable company; but if these evils be avoided, its effects on the mind are extremely salutary and refreshing. Nothing calms the spirit more sweetly than sad music; nothing quickens cogitation like a lively air. But the truth was, that honest Roger had no ear, and like a true Englishman of an age when Kings were wrestlers, and Queens not only presided at tournaments, but "rained influence" upon bear-baitings, delighted rather in muscular exertion than in fine fingering. That the practice of music no way impairs the faculty of severe thought, is sufficiently evinced by the fact that Milton was a skilful musician, and that most of the German philosophers of the present day, who in mental industry excel the whole world, play on some instrument. Mathematical pursuits are so far from disqualifying men for business, that of all others they are most necessary to such as are intended for public life. A mere mathematician, is indeed often rude and unlicked enough; but this may partly be accounted for from the circumstance, that many more persons of plebeian origin attain eminence in the mathematics than in the classics, and being, like most mathematicians, very honest men, do not readily acquire the distinguishing manner of genteel society. For it is a general observation, that a facility of adopting manners is the talent of a knave. A pick-pocket looks, speaks, and behaves much more like a gentleman, than an honest tradesman does. It is only in the highest class that fine manners bespeak noble sentiments.

Ascham took his master's degree in 1544, when he was no more than one and twenty. His character as a tutor was already high, and several excellent scholars were among his pupils; particularly Mr. William Grindall, who was afterwards, by Sir John Cheek's recommendation, preceptor to the Princess Elizabeth. Though the Regius Professorship of Greek was not yet formally founded, yet Ascham read lectures on that language, and received a considerable stipend from the University. About this time he was involved in a most singular controversy, which although the subject be of no very general interest, is yet so characteristic of the times, that we shall briefly describe it. Sir John Cheek and Sir Thomas Smith had introduced some alterations into the pronunciation of the Greek language, which had previously been even more barbarous than at present. Ascham at first opposed the innovation, and defended the established errors, in a disputation with Mr. Ponet, an ingenious youth, who was Fellow of Queen's College; but his mind was ever open to conviction on all subjects, great and small, and he had adopted the new and improved method, when a more formidable person than any yet engaged in the business thought fit to interfere in a truly despotic manner, giving thereby a sample of the temper, which he afterwards indulged so frightfully against innovations of a more important kind. This was the notorious Stephen Gardiner, then Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, who issued his peremptory prohibition of the new pronunciation, and after defining, with great strictness, the sound to be given to each letter, denounced the penalties for disobedience, suspension of degrees for graduates, and private whipping for undergraduates. Sir John Cheek, however, who was destined to yield to Gardiner in a concern of far higher moment, had the courage to defend his system; and the Bishop's attention was soon after diverted to other objects. As Gardiner was no fool, but partook largely of the subtlety of that, Being whom he so closely resembled in wickedness, we ought not to ascribe this strange proceeding to mere caprice, or wantonness of power. In fact, had he been a conscientious supporter of the ancient church, a honest upholder of established authority, he would have acted very wisely in forbidding change, even in the merest trifle; for whatever alteration, great or small, tended to impair the credit of tradition, and to accustom men to think and judge for themselves, was prejudicial to a Church that claims a traditional infallibility, and denies the right of private judgment. But it is not impossible that the mandate really proceeded from bluff King Harry himself, whose interest in literary questions was one redeeming point of his character, and whose most pardonable foible, or perhaps rather the foible of his age, was an itch to