ROGER ASCHAM. Roger Ascham, an eminent scholar, the preceptor of Lady Jane Gray, of Queen Elizabeth, and of other eminent persons, was born in 1515, and died 1568. He did not favor the use of voluminous grammars, since the "Latin Accidence," prepared for his illustrious pupils, contained less than thirty pages. He wrote "Toxophilus," a treatise upon archery, in which the necessity of exercise and recreation to the scholar is discussed. His chief work is entitled the "Schole-master," a treatise on the study of languages. After the lapse of more than three centuries his views are mainly in accordance with those of the best scholars of our day. [The benefit of a sound body for a sound mind.] THIS perverse judgment of men hindereth nothing so much as learning, because commonly those that be unfittest for learning, be chiefly set to learning. As if a man nowadays have two sons, the one impotent, weak, sickly, lisping, stuttering, and stammering, or having any mis-shape in his body; what doth the father of such one commonly say? This boy is fit 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 administration, should be committed to no man, which 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 voice able to persuade all men. And although few such men as these can be found in a commonwealth, yet surely a goodly disposed man will both in his mind think fit, and with all his study labor 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. This perverse judgment of fathers, as concerning the fitness and unfitness of their children, causeth the commonwealth have many unfit ministers and seeing that ministers be, as a man would say, instruments wherewith the commonwealth doth work all her matters withal, I marvel how it chanceth that a poor shoemaker hath so much wit, that he will prepare no instrument for his science, neither knife nor awl, nor nothing else, which is not very fit for him. The commonwealth can be content to take at a fond father's hand the riff raff 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 anything 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 able, fit, and apt unto, and follow that. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. Sir Walter Raleigh, a colonist, adventurer, courtier, and author, fills a large space in the annals of the time of Queen Elizabeth. He was born in 1552, was educated at Oxford, and was beheaded in 1618. While in prison he wrote a "History of the World," a voluminous work, no longer valuable, but far superior to anything that had been written at the time. His poems are marked by energy of thought and considerable felicity of expression; and if his restless temperament had allowed him to devote himself to the quiet pursuit of letters, it is probable that few authors of his age would have earned a more enduring renown. The poem which is here given is not certainly known to be his, but of its authorship there is scarcely any doubt. Five stanzas of the original are here omitted. I. THE LIE. Go, soul, the body's guest, II. Go, tell the court it glows, 1 Errand. Arrant and errant were then common forms of the word. Edmund Spenser, one of the four great names among English poets, was born in London in 1553, and died in 1598. His verse is distinguished by an unchecked exuberance of fancy and an exquisite sense of melody. His longest work, "The Faerie Queene," an elaborate panegyric in allegory upon Elizabeth, has many splendid passages, but its prolixity carries the reader on far beyond the reasonable limits of a work of art. An ingenious explanation of the personages in this poem and in " Colin Clout" will be found in The Atlantic Monthly, vol. ii. p. 674. Born at a time when the patronage of the public was insufficient to sustain an author, Spenser had full opportunity, between the parsimony of his royal mistress and the tardiness of her minister, to ponder the wisdom of the proverb, "Put not your trust in princes." The queen gave him a pension, which was irregularly paid, and a confiscated estate in Ireland, from which he was driven in terror. He died soon after his escape to London. BOOK I. CANTO I. I. A GENTLE knight was pricking on the plaine, Yet armes till that time did he never wield: II. And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore, The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore, Upon his shield the like was also scor'd, IV. A lovely ladie rode him faire beside, Upon a lowly asse more white then snow; VIII. And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, IX. The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours And poets sage; the firre that weepeth still; The eugh, obedient to the benders will; The birch for shaftes; the sallow for the mill; The carver holme; the maple, seldom inward sound. [The Palace of Morpheus.] XXXIX. He, making speedy way through sperséd ayre, Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred; XL. Whose double gates he findeth lockéd fast; And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye, By them the sprite doth passe in quietly, And unto Morpheus comes, whom drownéd deepe XLI. And, more, to lulle him in his slumber soft, A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe, Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne |
