land agayne. The Scottes surely be good men of warre in theyr owne feate [that in which they have skill] as can be but as for shotinge, they neyther can vse it for any profyte, nor yet wil chalenge it for any prayse, although master Textor of his gentlenesse wold gyue it them. Textor neaded not to haue fylled vppe his booke with suche lyes, if he hadde read the storye of Scotlande, whiche Joannes Maior doeth wryte: wherin he myghte haue learned, that when James Stewart fyrst kyng of that name, at the Parliament holden at Saynt Johnnes towne or Perthe, commaunded vnder payne of a greate forfyte, that euery Scotte shoulde learne to shote: yet neyther the loue of theyr countrie, the feare of their enemies, the auoydying of punishment, nor the receyuinge of anye profyte that myght come by it, coulde make them to be good Archers whiche be vnapte and vnfytte therunto by Gods prouidence and nature. Therfore the Scottes them selues proue Textor a lyer, bothe with authoritie and also daily experience, and by a certayne Prouerbe that they haue amonges them in theyr communication, wherby they gyue the whole prayse of shotynge honestlye to Englysshe men, saying thus: that euery Englysshe Archer beareth vnder hys gyrdle xxiiii. Scottes. But to lette Textor and the Scottes go: yet one thynge woulde I wysshe for the Scottes, and that is this, that seinge one God, one faythe, one compasse of the see, one lande and countrie, one tungue in speakynge, one maner and trade in lyuynge, lyke courage and stomake in war, lyke quicknesse of witte to learning, hath made Englande and Scotlande bothe one, they wolde suffre them no longer to be two: but cleane gyue ouer the Pope, which seketh none other thinge (as many a noble and wyse Scottish man doth knowe) but to fede vp dissention and parties betwixt them and vs, procuryng that thynge to be two, which God, nature, and reason wold haue one. Howe profytable suche an attonement were for Scotlande, both Iohannes Maior and Ector Boetius whiche wrote the Scottes Chronicles do tell, and also all the gentlemen of Scotlande with the poore communaltie, do wel knowe: So that there is nothing that stoppeth this matter, saue onelye a fewe freers, and suche lyke, whiche with the dregges of our Englysh Papistrie lurkyng now amonges them, study nothing els but to brewe battell and stryfe betwixte both the people: Wherby onely they hope to maynetayne theyr Papisticall kyngdome, to the destruction of the noble blood of Scotlande, that then they maye with authoritie do that, whiche neither noble man nor poore man in Scotlande yet doeth knowe. And as for Scottishe men and Englishe men be not enemyes by nature, but by custome: not by our good wyll, but by theyr owne follye: whiche shoulde take more honour in being coupled to Englande, then we shulde take profite in being ioyned to Scotlande. in their office can and will do both: which is the onelie cause that commonly the yong ientlemen of England go so vnwillinglie to schole, and run so fast to the stable: For in verie dede fond scholemasters by feare do beate into them the hatred of learning, and wise riders by ientle allurementes do breed vp in them the loue of riding. They finde feare and bondage in scholes, they feele libertie and freedome in stables: which causeth them vtterlie to abhorre the one, and most gladlie to haunt the other. And I do not write this, that in exhorting to the one I would dissuade yong ientlemen from the other yea I am sorie with all my harte that they be giuen no more to riding then they be: For of all outward qualities, to ride faire is most cumelie for him selfe, most necessarie for his contrey, and the greater he is in blood, the greater is his praise, the more he doth exceede all other therein. It was one of the three excellent praises amongest the noble ientlemen, the old Persians, Alwaise to say troth, to ride faire, and shote well. And it is pittie, that commonlie more care is had, yea and that emonges verie wise men, to finde out rather a cunnynge man for their horse, than a cunnyng man for their children. They say nay in worde, but they do so in dede. For to the one they will gladlie giue a stipend of 200 Crounes by the yeare, and loath to offer to the other 200 shillinges. God that sitteth in heauen laugheth their choice to skorne, and rewardeth their liberalitie as it should for he suffereth them to haue tame and well ordered horse, but wilde and vnfortunate children and therfore in the ende they finde more pleasure in their horse, than comforte in their children. This is Ascham's most famous interview': : : And one example, whether loue or feare doth worke more in a child for vertue and learning, I will gladlie report which maie be heard with some pleasure, and folowed with more profit. Before I went into Germanie, I came to Brodegate in Leicestershire, to take my leaue of that noble Ladie Iane Grey, to whom I was exceding moch beholdinge. Hir parentes, the Duke and Duches, with all the houshold, Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, were huntinge in the Parke: I founde her, in her Chamber, readinge Phadon Platonis in Greeke, and that with as moch delite, as som ientlemen wold read a merie tale in Bocase [Boccaccio]. After salutation, and dewtie done, with som other taulke, I asked hir, whie she wold leese [lose] soch pastime in the Parke? Smiling she answered me: I wisse, all their sporte in the Parke is but a shadoe to that pleasure that I find in Plato : Alas good folke, they neuer felt what trewe pleasure meant. And howe came you, Madame, quoth I, to this deepe knowledge of pleasure, and what did chieflie allure you vnto it: seinge not many women, but verie fewe men haue atteined thereunto. I will tell you, quoth she, and tell you a troth, which perchance ye will meruell at. One of the greatest benefites that euer God gaue me, is, that he sent me so sharpe and For seuere parentes, and so ientle a scholemaster. when I am in presence either of father or mother, whether I speake, kepe silence, sit, stand, or go, eate, drinke, be merie, or sad, be sowyng, plaiyng, dauncing, or doing anie thing els, I must do it, as it were, in soch weight, mesure, and number, euen so perfitelie, as God made the world, or else I am so sharplie taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea presentlie some tymes with pinches, nippes, and bobbes, and other waies, which I will not name for the honor I beare them, so without measure misordered, that I thinke my selfe in hell, till tyme cum that I must go to M. Elmer, who teacheth me so ientlie, so pleasantlie, with soch faire allurementes to learning, that I thinke all the tyme nothing, whiles I am with him. And when I am called from him, I fall on weeping, because, what soeuer I do else but learning is ful of grief, trouble, feare, and whole misliking vnto me: And thus my booke hath bene so moch my pleasure, and bringeth dayly to me more pleasure and more, that in respect of it all other pleasures, in very deede, be but trifles and troubles vnto me. I remember this talke gladly, both bicause it is so worthy of memorie, and bicause also, it was the last talke that euer I had, and the last tyme that euer I saw that noble and worthie ladie. He records a sad tale of a misguided infant : This last somer, I was in a ientlemans house: where a yong childe, somewhat past fower yeare olde, cold in no wise frame his tonge to saie a litle shorte grace and yet he could roundlie rap out so manie vyle othes, and those of the newest facion, as som good man of fourescore yeare olde hath neuer hard named before: and that which was most detestable of all, his father and mother wold laughe at it. I moche doubte what comforte an other daie this childe shall bring vnto them. On the question whether he approved of sending young men to complete their education by a sojourn in Italy, Ascham writes: Syr, quoth I, I take goyng thither and liuing there, for a yonge ientleman that doth not goe vnder the keepe and garde of such a man as both by wisedome can and authoritie dare rewle him, to be meruelous dangerous. And whie I said so than, I will declare at large now: which I said than priuatelie, and write now openlie, not bicause I do contemne either the knowledge of strange and diuerse tonges, and namelie the Italian tonge, which next the Greeke and Latin tonge I like and loue aboue all other or else bicause I do despise the learning that is gotten, or the experience that is gathered in strange contries or for any priuate malice that I beare to Italie which countrie, and in it, namelie Rome, I huae alwayes speciallie honored: bicause, tyme was whan Italie and Rome haue bene, to the greate good of vs that now liue, the best breeders and bringers vp of the worthiest men, not onelie for wise speakinge, but also for well doing, in all Ciuill affaires, that euer was in the worlde. But now that tyme is gone, and though the place remayne, yet the olde and present maners do differ as farre as blacke and white, as vertue and vice. Vertue once made that contrie mistres ouer all the worlde. Vice now maketh that contrie slaue to them, that before were glad to serue it. . . . If you thinke we iudge amisse, and write to sore against you, heare what the Italian sayth of the English man, what the master reporteth of the scholer; who vttereth playnlie, what is taught by him, and what learned by you, saying, Englese Italianato, e vn diabolo incarnato, that is to say, you remaine men in shape and facion, but becum deuils in life and condition. His criticism of the ethical significance of Morte D'Arthur is trenchant rather than sympathetic : In our forefathers tyme, when Papistrie as a standyng poole couered and ouerflowed all England, fewe bookes were read in our tong, sauyng certaine bookes of Cheualrie, as they sayd, for pastime and pleasure, which, as some say, were made in Monasteries by idle Monkes or wanton Chanons: as one for example, Morte Arthure: the whole pleasure of which booke standeth in two special poyntes, in open mans slaughter, and bold bawdrye: In which booke those be counted the noblest Knightes, that do kill most men without any quarrell, and commit fowlest aduoulteries by sutlest shiftes: as Sir Launcelote, with the wife of king Arthure his master : Syr Tristram with the wife of king Marke his vncle: Syr Lamerocke with the wife of king Lote, that was his own aunte. This is good stuffe for wise men to laughe at, or honest men to take pleasure at. A letter written by Ascham to his friend Raven at St John's, in Cambridge, describes a journey from England by Mechlin, Brussels, Louvain, Maestricht, Jülich, to Cologne [Colen]; thence up the Rhine by Coblentz and Mainz to Speier; then by Cannstadt, Esslingen, and Ulm to Augsburg, whence the letter was despatched. Ascham is an acute observer and an entertaining correspondent. As he rides from Maestricht into the Rhineland at Jülich he thus describes the country (we follow the standard edition-Giles's-of the Works, which is modernised in spelling): The country by the way may compare with Cambridgeshire for corn. . . This know, there is no country here to be compared for all things with England. Beef is little, lean, tough, and dear, mutton likewise; a rare thing to see a hundred sheep in a flock. Capons be lean and little; pigeons naught; partridge as ill, black, and tough; corn enough everywhere, and most wheat. Here is never no dearth, except corn fail. The people generally be much like the old Persians that Xenophon describes, content to live with bread, roots, and water; and for this matter, ye shall see round about the walls of every city, half a mile compass from the walls, gardens full of herbs and roots, whereby the cities most part do live. No herb is stolen, such justice is exercised. These countries be rich by labour and continuance of man, not by goodness of the soil. If only London would use, about the void places of the city, these gardens full of herbs, and if it were but to serve the strangers that would live with these herbs, beside a multitude which either need, covetousness, or temperance would in few years bring to the same, all England should have victuals better cheap. I think also there is more wine indeed drunken in England, where none grows, than even there, from whence it cometh. It is pity that London hath not one goodman to begin this husbandry and temperance. At Briges [Bruges], in Flanders, we had as fat, good, and great mutton, and fatter, better, and greater capons than ever I saw in Kent, but nowhere else. At Cologne the reason is given why the Cathedral was still unfinished, and the relics of Ursula and the ten thousand virgins commented on, not without some suspicion of the story; and this is the record of the three next stages of the journey: We took a fair barge, with goodly glass windows, with seats of fir, as close as any house, we knew not whether it went or stood. Rhene is such a river that now I do not marvail that the poets make rivers gods. Rhene at Spires, having a farther course to rin into the ocean sea than is the space betwixt Dover and Barwick, is broader over a great deal than is Thames at Greenwich. . . . From Colen this day we went to Bonna, the bishop's town; the country about Rhene here is plain. . . . We were drawn up Rhene by horses. Little villages stand by Khene side, and as the barge came by, six or seven children, some stone naked, some in their shirts, of the bigness of Peter Ailand, would run by us on the sands, singing psalms, and would rin and sing with us half a mile, whilst they had some money. We came late to Bonna at eight of the clock: our men were come afore with our horse: we could not be let into the town, no more than they do at Calise, after an hour. We stood cold at the gate a whole hour. At last we were fain, lord and lady, to lie in our barge all night, where I sat in my lady's side-saddle, leaning my head to a malle [portmanteau], better lodged than a dozen of my fellows. 14 Octob. We sailed to Brousik [Breisig]: 15 miles afore we come to Bonna begin the vines and hills keeping in Rhene on both sides for the space of five or six days journey, as we made them, almost to Mayence; like the hills that compass Halifax about, but far branter [sheerer] up, as though the rocks did cover you like a pentice [penthouse]: on the Rhene side all this journey be pathways where horse and man go commonly a yard broad, so fair that no weather can make it foul: if you look upwards ye are afraid the rocks will fall on your head; if ye look downwards ye are afraid to tumble into Rhene, and if your horse founder it is not seven to six that ye shall miss falling into Rhene. There be many times stairs down into Rhene that men may come from their boat and walk on this bank, as we did every day four or five miles at once, plucking grapes not with our hands but with our mouths if we list. The grapes grow on the brant rocks so wonderfully, that ye will marvel how men dare climb up to them, and yet so plentifully, that it is not only a marvel where men be found to labour it, but also almost where men dwell that drink it. Seven or eight days journey ye cannot cast your sight over the compass of vines. And surely this wine of Rhene is so good, so natural, so temperate, so ever like itself, as can be wished for man's use. I was afraid when I came out of England to miss beer; but I am more afraid when I shall come into England, that I cannot lack this wine. It is wonder to see how many castles stand on the tops of these rocks unwinable. The three bishops electors, Colen, Trevers, and Mayence, be the princes almost of whole Rhene. The lansgrave hath goodly castles upon Rhene which the emperor cannot get. The palatine of Rhene is also a great lord on this river, and hath his name of a castle standing in the midst of Rhene on a rock [the Pfalz]. There be also goodly isles in Rhene, so full of walnut trees that they cannot be spent with eating, but they make vile of them. In some of these isles stand fair abbeys and nunneries wonderfully pleasant. The stones that hang so high over Rhene be very much of that stone that you use to write on in tables; every poor man's house there is covered with them. 15 Octob. From Brusik to Confluentia [Coblenz] xviii miles. Here Mosella comes into Rhene as fair as Trent. The bishop of Trevers hath here two fair castles of either side of Rhene up in high rocks, one bragging the other, and both threatening the town with many pieces of ordinance. We quote last from the same Augsburg letter a contemporary glimpse from the great Emperor Charles V. at dinner : I stood hard by the Emperor's table. He had four courses; he had sod beef very good, roast mutton, baked hare... The Emperor hath a good face, a constant look: he fed well of a capon; I have had a better from mine hostess Barnes many times in my chambers. He and Ferdinando ate together very handsomely, carving themselves where they list, without any curiosity. The Emperor drank the best that ever I saw; he had his head in the glass five times as long as any of us, and never drank less than a good quart at once of Rhenish wine. His chapel sung wonderful cunningly all the dinnerwhile. There have been many editions of Toxophilus and the Scholemaster-of both by Arber, and of the latter by Mayor (1873; new ed. 1883). Collected editions of the English works were by Bennet in 1771 and Cochrane in 1815, and of the whole works (including the Latin letters, &c.) by Giles in 1864-65. There are Lives by Grant (Latin, 1576) and Katterfeld (German, 1879). A somewhat sharp contrast to the serious and dignified writers from More to Ascham is presented by a contemporary, Andrew Boorde, or BORDE (1490-1549), who, born about 1490 at Boards (formerly Borde's) Hill, near Cuckfield in Sussex, was brought up a Carthusian; after 1527 studied medicine at Orleans, Toulouse, Montpellier, and Wittenberg; visited Rome and Compostella; and for Thomas Cromwell carried through a confidential mission in France and Spain. He practised medicine in Glasgow (1536), in spite of what he calls 'the deuyllyshe dysposicion of a Scottysh man not to loue or fauour an Englisheman.' He describes Ireland and the Irish, Wales, Cornwall, Flanders, Saxony, Denmark, Norway and Iceland, Naples and Sicily. His last and longest journey was by Antwerp, Cologne, Venice, and Rhodes to Jerusalem, and back by Naples, Rome, and the Alps. He lived for some time at Winchester, and having fallen into irregular ways, died in the Fleet prison in London. To the end he was a staunch Catholic. Boorde's chief works are his Dyetary and Boke of the Introduction of Knowledge, edited by Dr Furnival in 1870. The latter is a kind of guide-book to Europe, 'the whych dothe teache a man to speake all maner of languages and to know the usage and fashion of all maner of countreys.' In virtue of the Dyetary he may be accounted the father of writing books of domestic medicine. The Brevyary was also a medical work. The Boke of Berdes dissuades from beard-growing. He has been unreasonably called 'the original merry-andrew' because that word appears on the title of several works attributed to him without evidence, The Merie Tales of the mad men of Gotham, Scogins Jests, and The Mylner of Abynton. His own jocular title was 'Andreas Perforatus,' a pun on 'Bored.' His Itinerary of Europe has perished, but the Handbook of Europe survives, and the Itinerary of England or Peregrination of Doctor Boorde was printed by Hearne in 1735. The earliest known specimen of the Gypsy language occurs in the Introduction. His interspersed doggerel rhymes are sometimes more effective as they are more uncouth-than his prose. He thinks well of the English as 'more better in many thynges, specially in maners and manhod,' than other peoples. But the Englishman is addicted to foppery in dress, running after new fashions. In the Boke there is a cut of an unclothed Englishman, holding tailors' shears, and an autobiographical description: I am an English man and naked I stand here, I will haue them whether I thryve or thee; I wyll learne Latine, Hebrew, Greeke, and Frenche, I ouercome my aduersaries by land and by see; This passage forms the text or the peroration of Borrow's appendix 'On Foreign Nonsense' in the Romany Rye; and some have thought it was in Shakespeare's mind when-to Nerissa Portia criticises her English suitor in the Merchant of Venice. Even more characteristic of the nation was the irrepressible tendency to profane swearing: 'In all the worlde ther is no regyon nor countree that doth use more swearynge than is used in England, for a chylde that scarse can speake, a boy, a gyrll, a wenche now a dayes wyl swere as great othes as an olde knave and an olde drabbe.' The Scotsman thus describes himself: I am a Scotyshe man and trew I am to Fraunce, In euery countrey myselfe I do auaunce, I wyll boost myselfe, I wyll crake and face, And in my promyse I haue not kept touche. When he comes to describe Scotland in prose, all he has to say of the Lowlands is that 'therein is plenty of fysh and fleshe and euell ale except Leth ale; there is plenty of haver cakes, whiche is to say oten cakes; this part is the hart and the best of the realme. The other part of Scotlande is a baryn and a waste countrey, full of mores lyke the lande of the wyld Ireshe. And the people of that parte of Scotlande be very rude and vnmanered and vntaught; yet that part is somwhat better than the North parte, but yet the Sowth parte will gnaw a bone and cast it into the dish again. Theyr Fyshe and Fleshe, be it rosted or soden, is serued wyth a syrup or a sause in one disshe or platter of all nacyons they do sethe theyr fysh moste beste. The borders of Scotland towards England . . lyueth in nuch pouertie and penurye, hauynge no howses but suche as a man maye buylde wythin iij. or iv. houres: he and his wyfe and his horse standeth all in one rome. In these partyes be many out-lawes and stronge theues, for much of theyr lyuyng standeth by stelyng and robbyng. . . . The people of the countrey be hardy men and stronge men and wellfauored and good musycyons.' The Irishman and the Welshman are as frankly treated as the Scotyshman, and have even less reason to think the likeness flattered. Brief conversations, not unlike those still manufactured for tourists, are given in Lowland Scotch, Irish, and Welsh, as also in base-Dutch, high-Dutch, Italian, modern Greek, and other tongues. Henry VIII., who was born the year after Boorde, and died two years before him, was himself an accomplished and really learned writer-the Assertio Septem Sacramentorum against Luther, which earned for an English king the title of 'Defender of the Faith,' appears to have been mainly his own work; and it seems certain that he wrote English songs and composed the music to them. One of the best authenticated is that called 'The King's Ballad' in a manuscript in the British Museum dating from Henry's own time. It is familiar in a modernised form. The older form is thus given by Chappell (new ed. 1893, vol. i. p. 42): Pastyme with good companye I love & shall untyll I dye; who schall me let? Youthe must have sum daliance, off good or yll sum pastance : Company me thynkes then best, all thoughts and fansys to dejest: ffor idillnes is chef mastres of vices all: Sternhold and Hopkins deserve remembrance as joint-authors of by far the larger number of the metrical versions of the psalms formerly attached to the English Prayer Book. This was for two hundred years the standard translation, and it obtained currency in Holland and Ireland also. Thomas Sternhold (1500-49), born near Blakeney in Gloucestershire, or, according to Fuller and Wood, in Hampshire, became Groom of the Robes to Henry VIII. and Edward VI., and essayed to do more perfectly what Coverdale in England and Marot in France had attempted to supersede at court and amongst the people the current 'obscene ballads.' The first edition (undated, but probably in 1547) contains only nineteen psalms ; the second (1549), thirty-seven. A third edition, by Whitchurch (1551), contains seven more by J. H. [John Hopkins], probably a native of Awre in Gloucestershire, who died rector of Great Waldingfield, Suffolk, in 1570. The complete book of psalms, which appeared in 1562, formed for nearly two centuries almost the whole hymnody of the Church of England, and was known as the 'Old Version' after the rival version of Tate and Brady (q.v.) appeared (1696). Forty psalms bore the name of Sternhold, and sixty that of Hopkins. The rest were the work of various authors. Sternhold chose the ballad metre of 'Chevy Chace' as the metre for all but a few of his psalms; and his choice made this the standard of common metre (C.M.) for most psalters down to the present day, greatly influenced hymn-writing also, and doubtless had no little effect in giving the uneducated their standard for verse and for poetry. Hopkins had four rhymes to Sternhold's two. Fuller thought highly of the versions as poems, but admitted that their authors' 'piety was better than their poetry, and they had drunk more of Jordan than of Helicon.' The wording is flat as well as homely, and wholly fails to render the majesty of the Hebrew psalms. The first to versify the whole psalter in English was Robert Crowley or role (1518?-88), Archdeacon of Hereford and Prebendary of St Paul's, who was deprived and imprisoned for opposition to vestments as 'the conjuring garments of popery.' He was born in Gloucestershire and educated at Oxford, and was for some years a printer, issuing in that capacity three impressions of Piers Plow man. He wrote much controversial divinity. His version of the Psalms is sufficiently uncouth ; printed (1549) as it is in black letter, each pair of double long lines forming a verse, it is at times difficult to make out the lines and metre, though it is common metre. Thus run some verses of the Seventy-fourth Psalm : O God howe longe shall thyne enmy do the dispyte and shame? Wylt thou suffer him ever to blaspheme Lord whye wythdrawest thou thy powre? Styll in thy bosome? pulle it out and let thy The first half-line ends with 'enmy',' thus accented; and the third has to be read, 'Wilt thou suffer' him ever to'. In the last line is a good old form of 'destroyed.' The same verses are a little more rhythmical -though finally more grotesque-in Sternhold and Hopkins: When wilt thou Lord once end this shame and cease thine enemies strong? Shall they alway blaspheme thy name, and raile on thee so long? Why dost Thou draw Thy hand abacke Oh plucke it out and be not slacke D. P. Development of the Secular Drama. All but the latest of the plays at which we have hitherto looked were plainly intended to be acted on stages or platforms in the open air; but we gather that towards the close of the fifteenth century it had become customary for dramatic entertainments also to be held indoors, in the halls of large houses. The consequences of bringing the players from their 'scaffolds high' into a room in close proximity to the audience-and that audience of a more educated kind than would be gathered in the street-were very great. Amid the new surroundings the incongruities of the Scriptural drama would have been intolerable, and no new plays of this kind were written until Bishop Bale revived them in a totally different spirit. Scenic accessories and stage apparatus, again, were necessarily reduced to a minimum, and partly as a result of this the 'action' in the new plays is of the most restricted kind. Lastly, the plays, being no longer the sole business of a summer holiday, were greatly cut down in length; they began to be called interludes—that is, entertainments wherewith to while away the time after or before a banquet or other solemnity—and though they remained for the most part severely didactic, they now took a much greater variety of theme. Thus there are: (1) plays intended to draw men to heaven by good deeds, confession, and |