f LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF. CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO /,Vf JO SELECTIONS ENGLISH PROSE ELIZABETH TO VICTORIA (1580-1880). CHOSEN AND ARRANGED BY JAMES M. GARNETT, M.A., LL.D., PROFESSOR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA. BOSTON, U.S.A. : PUBLISHED BY GINN & COMPANY. 1892. COPYRIGHT, 1890, Bv GINN & COMPANY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. TYPOGRAPHY BY J. S. GUSHING & Co., BOSTON. U.S.A. PRESSWORK BY GINN & Co., BOSTON, U.S.A. PREFACE. A PREFACE may be expected to give the raison d'etre of a book > especially of a book of selections, when one might think the mak-, ing of books of selections overdone. But, in the words of Leigh Hunt (Preface to Imagination and Fancy), "The Editor has often wished for such a book himself; and as nobody will make it for him, he has made it for others," and for himself, I would add. I have long wished to use with my class in English Literature Professor Minto's Manual of English Prose Literature, but I thought it useless for students to study the lives of authors and detailed criticism of their style without having in hand examples of their writings of sufficient length to enable the student to form some idea of the justness of the criticism. It is true that we have two recent books of prose selections : Saintsbury's Speci- mens of English Prose Style from Malory to Macaulay, and Gallon's English Prose from Maundeville to Thackeray, but neither of them suited my purpose. Mr. Saintsbury's book con- tains too many authors and too brief specimens of their style. A book containing ninety-six authors, with specimens varying from two to six pages, would not fulfil the object I had in view. But Mr. Saintsbury has prefixed to his volume an excellent essay on English Prose Style, which should be reprinted in pamphlet form for use with any book of selections. Mr. Gallon's book is not liable to the above objection to the same extent, as it con- iv PREFACE. tains fifty-six authors, and the selections are of greater length ; but some of the authors might be omitted without much loss, and some of the selections here also are too short. I wished, moreover, to suit the selections, as far as was consistent with the object of giving a satisfactory view of the progress of English prose for the last three hundred years, to the leading authors criticised in Professor Minto's Manual, and this has been done in the main, the chief exceptions being the writers of the present century, most of whom Professor Minto has criticised all too briefly. The book may, however, be used in connection witn any Manual of English Literature. I cannot expect to satisfy everybody. Some, perhaps, will criticise omissions; others, inclusions. Reasons might be given for the choice of the authors and pieces selected, but it would prolong this Preface to too great length. I should have been glad to include more authors, but I had to bear in mind the compass of a single volume, and I fear that the book is already too bulky. This restriction has, too, prevented me from beginning earlier; but the middle of the reign of Elizabeth was, I think, the begin- ning of the formation of an English prose style, as it was the beginning of our modern poetry and drama, for Lyly's Enphucs was contemporary with Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar, and Lyly's comedies were the first worthy of consideration from a literary point of view. The historical student should extend his studies at least as far back as Wyclif and Chaucer, to see English prose in the making; but the general reader will seldom take up the prose authors before Lyly, and will need more help to interpret them. I have appended brief notes to these selections, purposely limited to explanations of words and allusions that I thought PREFACE. v desirable for the student, but not intended to take the place of the classical, biographical, or verbal dictionary. The labor of identifying the Latin quotations has been great, and will be appre- ciated by those only who have undergone similar labor. Some of the quotations have, notwithstanding, eluded my search. The book has occupied much longer time than I anticipated when it was undertaken. The proof has been read repeatedly and with great care, but as I cannot flatter myself that all errors of the press have been eliminated, I shall be obliged for information as to those detected. That the volume may contribute to acquaint the student practically with the formation of English prose style, and may prove to be a help to the teacher, is the earnest wish of the compiler. In the present impression I have endeavored to correct all errors that have been noticed, and I have supplied references for more of the Latin quotations. Professor Schelling's recent edi- tion of Ben Jonson's Timber has enabled me to supply some references on the selection from that work. I am indebted to all friends who have called my attention to errors, and if errors still % remain, I shall be obliged to any one who will notify me of them. I am glad to know that the book has been found useful in instruction. JAMES M. GARNETT. UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA, VA., June 9, 1892. TABLE OF CONTENTS. PREFACE iii I. JOHN LYLY (1553 or 4-1606). Euphues and his England. Euphues Glasse for Europe o . I II. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554-1586). An Apologia for Poetrie 24 III. RICHARD HOOKER (1553 or 4-1600). Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, Book 1 49 IV. FRANCIS BACON (1561-1626). 1 . Essays : Of Religion. Of Unity in Religion 66 2. History of King Henry VII 73 V. BEN JONSON (1574-1637). Timber, or Discoveries made upon Men and Matter 90 VI. THOMAS FULLER (1608-1661). The Holy State . 105 VII. JOHN MILTON (1608-1674). Areopagitica 1 28 VIII. JEREMY TAYLOR (1613-1667). Sermon preached at Golden Grove . 141 IX. SIR THOMAS BROWNE (1605-1682). Urn-Burial (Hydriotaphia) 161 X. ABRAHAM COWLEY (1618-1667). 1. On the Government of Oliver Cromwell. 177 2. Essays : Of the Shortness of Life. Of Myself 190 XI. EDWARD HYDE, EARL OF CLARENDON (1608-1674). Essays: Reflections on the Happiness which we may enjoy in and from ourselves 198 XII. SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE (1628-1699). Essay upon the Ancient and Modern Learning 215 vii viii TABLE OF CONTENTS. XIII. JOHN DRYDEN (1631-1700). PAGE 1. An Essay of Dramatic Poesy 233 2. Defence of the Epilogue 247 3. Preface to the Fables 262 XIV. JONATHAN SWIFT (1667-1745). The Battle of the Books 271 XV. JOSEPH ADDISON (1672-1719). Selections from The Spectator : 1. The Coverley Papers 299 2. The English Tongue 314 3. Criticism on Milton's Paradise Lost 318 XVI. SIR RICHARD STEELE (1675-1729). Selections from The Spectator : 1. The Coverley Papers 328 2. On Reading the Church Service 351 XVII. DANIEL DEFOE (1661-1731). History of the Plague in London, 1665 355 XVIII. HENRY ST. JOHN, VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE (1678-1751). Letters on the Study and Use of History : Letter II 379 XIX. DAVID HUME (1711-1776). Essays, Moral, Political, and Literary : 1. Of Eloquence 397 2. Of Tragedy 407 XX. OLIVER GOLDSMITH (1728-1774). Essays : On the Use of Metaphors 416 XXI. SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784). Preface to Shakspeare * 433 XXII. EDMUND BURKE (1728-1797). Speech on Conciliation with America . . 453 XXIII. EDWARD GIBBON (1737-1794). Memoirs of My Life and Writings 472 XXIV. SIR WALTER SCOTT (1771-1832). Essay on the Drama 49^ XXV. SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE (1772-1834). Biographia Literaria, Chapter XXI. : Remarks on the Present Mode of Conducting Critical Journals 512 XXVI. WILLIAM HAZLITT (1778-1830). Table-Talk : Opinions on Books, Men, and Things : On Application to Study 522 TABLE OF CONTENTS. IX XXVII. CHARLES LAMB (1775-1834). PAGE Essays of Elia : 1. The Old and the New Schoolmaster 536 2. A Bachelor's Complaint of the Behaviour of Married People 545 3. The Genteel Style in Writing 552 XXVIII. ROBERT SOUTHEY (1774-1843). Selections from The Doctor 558 XXIX. WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR (1775-1864). Dialogues of Literary Men : Samuel Johnson and John Home Tooke 576 XXX. LEIGH HUNT (1784-1859). What is Poetry? 594 XXXI. THOMAS DE QUINCEY (1785-1859). Shakspeare 613 XXXII. THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY (1800-1859). The Comic Dramatists of the Restoration 637 XXXIII. THOMAS CARLYLE (1795-1881). 1. Biography 671 2. Hero- Worship. The Hero as Poet . . . Shakspeare 688 I. JOHN LYLY. (1553 or 4 1606-) EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. EUPHUES GLASSE FOR EUROPE. [Written in 1580.] Bur having entreated 1 sufficiently of the countrey and their conditions, let me come to the Glasse I promised, being the court, where, although I should, as order requireth, beginne with the chiefest, yet I am enforced with the Painter to reserve my best colours to end Venus, and to laie the ground with the basest. First, then, I must tell you of the grave and wise Counsailors, whose foresight in peace warranteth saf[e]tie * in warre, whose pro- vision in plentie, maketh sufficient in dearth, whose care in health is as it were a preparative against sicknesse ; how great their wisdom hath beene in all things, the twentie two yeares peace doth both shew and prove. For what subtilty hath ther[e] bin wrought so closly, what privy attempts so craftily, what rebellions stirred up so disorderly, but they have by policie bewrayed, 2 prevented by wisdome, repressed by justice ? What conspiracies abroad, what confederacies at home, what injuries in anye place hath there beene contrived, the which they have not eyther foreseene before they could kindle, or quenched before they could flame ? If anye wilye Ulysses should faine madnesse, there was amonge them alwayes some Palamedes to reveale him ; if any Thetis went 1 treated. 2 exposed (them). * " Variations or additions of words, and of important letters in words, from the first editions, are inserted between [ ]." ARBER. 2 JOHN LYLY. about to keepe hir sonne from the doing of his countrey service, there was also a wise Ulysses in the courte to bewraye it : If Sinon came with a smoothe tale to bringe in the horse into Troye, there hath beene alwayes some couragious Lacaon to thro we his speare agaynst the bowelles, whiche, beeing not bewitched with Lacaon, hath unfoulded that which Lacaon suspected. If Argus with his hundred eyes went prying to undermine Jupiter, yet met he with Mercuric, who whis[t]elled all his eyes out : in-somuch as ther[e] coulde never yet any craft prevaile against their policie, or any chalenge against their courage. There hath alwayes beene Achilles at home to buckle with Hector abroad, Nestors gravitie to countervail Priams counsail, Ulisses subtilties to ma[t]ch with Antenors policies. England hath al[l] those yat * can * and have wrestled with al others, .wher-of we can require no greater proofe then experience. Besides they have al[l] a ze[a]lous care for the encreasing of true religion, whose faiths for the most part hath bin [beene] tried through the fire, which they had felt, had not they fledde over the water. More-over the great studie they bend towards schooles of learning, both sufficiently declare that they are not only furtherers of learning, but fathers of the learned. O thrise [thrice] happy England where such Counsaylours are, where such people live, where such vertue springeth ! Amonge these shall you finde Zopirus that will mangle him-selfe to do his country good, Achates that will never start an ynch from his Prince Aeneas, Nausicla that never wanted a shift in extremitie, Cato that ever counsayled to the best, Ptolomeus Philadelphus that alwaies maintained learning. Among the number of all which noble and wise counsailors, I can-not but for his honors sake remember the most prudent and right honourable ye Lorde Burg- leigh, high Treasurer of that Realme, no lesse reverenced for his wisdome than renowmed for his office, more loved at home then feared abroade, and yet more feared for his counsayle amonge 8 that, y = th. (J>) * Common error of omission of infinitive after auxiliary. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 3 other nations then sworde or fyre, in whome the saying of Aga- memnon may be verified, who rather wished for one such as Nestor, then many such as Ajax. This noble man I found so ready, being but a straunger, to do me good, that neyther I ought to forget him, neyther cease to pray for him, that as he hath the wisdome of Nestor, so he may have the age, that having the policies of Ulysses, he may have his honor, worthye to lyve long, by whome so manye lyve in quiet, and not unworthy to be advaunced, by whose care so many have beene preferred. Is not this a Glasse, fayre Ladyes, for all other countrie[s] to beholde, wher[e] there is not only an agreement in fayth, religion, and counsayle, but in friendshyppe, brother-hoode, and lyving? By whose good endevours vice is punyshed, vertue rewarded, peace establyshed, forren broyles repressed, domesticall cares appeased? what nation can of Counsailors desire more? what Dominion, yat excepted, hath so much? when neither courage can prevaile against their chivalrie, nor craft take place agaynst their counsayle, nor both joyned in one be of force to undermine their country. When you have daseled your eies with this Glasse, behold here an other. It was my fortune to be acquainted with certaine English Gentlemen, which brought mee to the court, wher[e^ when I came, I was driven into a maze to behold the lusty and brave gallants, the be[a]utiful and chast Ladies, ye rare and godly orders, so as I could not tel whether I should most commend vertue or bravery. At the last, coming oft[e]ner thether then it beseemed one of my degree, yet not so often as they desired my company, I began to prye after theyr manners, natures, and lyves, and that which followeth I saw, where-of who so doubt- eth, I will sweare. The Ladyes spend the morning in devout prayer, not resembling the Gentlewoemen in Greece and Italy, who begin their morning at midnoone, and make their evening at midnight, using sonets for psalmes, and pastymes for prayers, reading ye Epistle of a Lover, when they should peruse the Gospell of our Lorde, drawing wanton 4 JOHN LYLY. lynes when death is before their face, as Archimedes did triangles and circles when the eniray was at his backe. Behold, Ladies, in this glasse that the service of God is to be preferred before all things ; imitat[e] the Englysh Damoselles, who have theyr bookes tyed to theyr gyrdles, not fe[a]thers, who are as cunning in ye scriptures, as you are in Ariosto or Petrack or anye booke that lyketh 5 you best, and becommeth you most. For bravery 6 I cannot say that" you exceede them, for certainly it is ye most gorgeoust [gorgious] court that ever I have scene, read, or heard of, but yet do they not use theyr apperell so nicelye as you in Italy, who thinke scorn to kneele at service, for feare of wrinckles in your silks, who dare not lift up your head to heaven, for feare of rumpling ye rufs in your neck, yet your hands I con- fesse are holden up, rather I thinke to shewe your ringes then to manifest your righteousnesse. The braverie they use is for the honour of their Prince, the attyre you weare for the alluring of your pray; the ritch apparell maketh their beautie more scene, your disguising causeth your faces to be more suspected ; they resemble in their rayment the Estrich who, being gased on, closeth hir wiriges and hideth hir fethers ; you in your robes are not unlike the pecocke, who, being praysed, spreadeth hir tayle, and be- wrayeth hir pride. Velvetts and Silkes in them are like golde about a pure Diamond, in you like a greene hedge about a filthy dunghill. Thinke not, Ladies, that bicause you are decked with golde, you are endued with grace ; imagine not that, shining like the Sunne in earth, yea 7 shall climbe the Sunne in heaven ; looke diligently into this English glasse, and then shall you see that the more costly your apparell is, the greater your curtesie should be, that you ought to be as farre from pride, as you are from povertie, and as neere to princes in beautie, as you are in brightnes. Bicause you are brave, disdaine not those that are base ; thinke with your selves that russet coates have their Christendome, that the Sunne when he is at his h[e]ight shineth aswel upon course carsie, 8 as 6 pleaseth. 6 finery. 7 ye. 8 kersey. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 5 cloth of tissue ; though you have pearles in your eares, Jewels in your breastes, preacious stones on your fingers, yet disdaine not the stones in the streat, which, although they are nothing so noble, yet are they much more necessarie. Let not your robes hinder your devotion, learne of the English Ladies yat God is worthy to be worshipped with the most price, to whom you ought to give all praise, then shall you be like stars to ye wise, who now are but staring stockes to the foolish, then shall you be praysed of 9 most, who are now pointed at of all, then shall God beare with your folly, who nowe abhorreth your pride. As the Ladies in this blessed Islande are devout and brave, so are they chast and beautifull, insomuch that, when I first behelde them, I could not tell whether some mist had bleared myne eyes, or some stra[u]ng[e] enchauntment altered my minde, for it may bee, thought I, that in this Island either some Artimedorus or Lisimandro, or some odd Nigromancer did inhabit, who would shewe me Fayries, or the bodie of Helen, or the new shape of Venus, but comming to my selfe, and seeing that my sences were not chaunged, but hindered, that the place where I stoode was no enchaunted castell, but a gallant court, I could scarce restraine my voyce from crying, There is no beautie bitt in England. There did I behold them of pure complexion, exceeding the lillie and the rose, of favour (wherein ye chiefest beautie consisteth) sur- passing the pictures that were feyned [fained], 10 or the Magition that would faine, their eyes pe[a]rcing like the Sun beames, yet chast, their speach pleasant and sweete, yet modest and curteous, their gate comly, their bodies straight, their hands white, al[l] things that man could wish, or women woulde have, which, howe much it is, none can set downe, when as ye one desireth as much as may be, the other more. And to these beautifull mouldes, chast mindes ; to these comely bodies temperance, modestie, milde- nesse, sobrietie, whom I often beheld merrie yet wise, conferring with courtiers yet warily, drinking of wine yet moderately, eating 9 by. 10 feigned. 6 JOHN LYLY. of delicat[e]s yet but their eare ful, list[en]ing to discourses of love but not without reasoning of learning : for there it more delighteth them to talke of Robin hood, then to shoot in his bowe, and greater pleasure they take to heare of love, then to be in love. Heere, Ladies, is a Glasse that will make you blush for shame, and looke wan for anger ; their beautie commeth by nature, yours by art ; they encrease their favours with faire water, you maintaine yours with painters colours ; the haire they lay out groweth upon their owne heads, your seemelines hangeth upon others ; theirs is alwayes in their owne keeping, yours often in the Dyars ; their bewtie [beautie] is not lost with a sharpe blast, yours fadeth with a soft breath : Not unlike unto Paper Floures [flowers], which breake as soone as they are touched, resembling the birds in sgypt called 7#to you in place of repentance. The Lords and Gentlemen in ye [that] court are also an example for all others to fol[l]ow, true tipes [types] of nobility, the only stay and staf [fe] to [of] honor, brave courtiers, stout soldiers, apt to revell in peace, and ryde in warre. In fight fearce [fierce], not dreading death, in friendship firme, not breaking promise, curteous to all that deserve well, cruell to none that deserve ill. Their adversaries they trust not, that shewr eth their wisdome, their enimies they feare not, that argueth their courage. They are not apt to proffer injuries, nor fit to take any : loth to pick quarrels, but longing to revenge them. Active they are in all things, whether it be to wrestle in the games of Olympia, or to fight at Barriers in Palestra, able to carry as great burthens as Milo, of strength to throwe as byg stones as Turnus, and what not that eyther man hath done or may do, worthye of such Ladies, and none but they, and Ladies willing to have such Lordes, and none but such. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 9 This is a Glasse for our youth in Greece, for your young ones in Italy, the English Glasse ; behold it, Ladies and Lordes, and all that eyther meane to have pietie, use braverie, encrease beautie, or that desire temperancie, chastitie, witte, wisdome, valure, or any thing that may delight your selves, or deserve praise of others. But another sight there is in my Glasse, which maketh me sigh for griefe I can-not shewe it, and yet had I rather offend in dero- gating 14 from my Glasse, then my good will. Blessed is that Land that hath all commodities to encrease the common wealth, happye is that Islande that hath wise counsailours to maintaine it, vertuous courtiers to beautifie it, noble Gentle- menne to advance it, but to have suche a Prince to governe it as is their Soveraigne queene, I know not whether I should thinke the people to be more fortunate, or the Prince famous, whether their felicitie be more to be had in admiration, that have such a ruler, or hir vertues to be honoured, that hath such royaltie : for such is their estat[e] ther[e] that I am enforced to think that every day is as lucky to the Englishmen, as the sixt day of Februarie hath beene to the Grecians. But I see you gase untill I shew this Glasse, which you having once scene, will make you giddy : Oh Ladies, I know not when to begin, nor where to ende : for the more I go about to expresse the brightnes, the more I finde mine eyes bleared ; the neerer I desire to come to it, the farther I se[e]me from it, not unlike unto Simonides, who being curious to set downe what God was, the more leysure he tooke, the more loth hee was to meddle, saying that in thinges above reach, it was easie to catch a straine, 15 but impossible to touch a Star : and ther[e]fore scarse tollerable to poynt at that which one can never pull at. When Alexander had commaunded that none shoulde paint him but Appelles, none carve him but Lysippus, none engrave him but Pirgotales [Pergo- tales~\, Parrhasius framed a Table squared, everye way twoo hun- 14 detracting. 15 to overexert one's self. 10 JOHN LYLY. dred foote, which in the borders he trimmed with fresh coulours, and limmed with fine golde, leaving all the other roume [roome] with-out knotte or lyne, which table he presented to Alexander, who, no lesse mervailing at the bignes, then at the barenes, demaunded to what ende he gave him a frame with-out face, being so naked, and with-out fashion, being so great. Parrhasius aunswered him, let it be lawful for Parrhasius, O Alexander, to shew a Table wherin he would paint Alexander, if it were not unlawfull, and for others to square Timber, though Lysippus carve it, and for all to cast brasse though Pirgoteles \Pergoteles\ ingrave it. Alexander, perceiving the good minde of Parrhasius, par- doned his boldnesse, and preferred 1G his arte : yet enquyring why hee framed the table so bygge, he aunswered that hee thought that frame to bee but little enough for his Picture, when the whole worlde was to little for his personne, saying that Alexander must as well be praysed, as paynted, and that all hys victoryes and ver- tues were not for to bee drawne in the Compasse of a Sygnette, [Signet] but in a fielde. This aunswer Alexander both lyked and rewarded, insomuch that it was lawful ever after for Parrhasius both to praise that noble king and to paint him. In the like manner I hope that, though it be not requisite that any should paynt their Prince in England, that can-not suf- ficiently perfect hir, yet it shall not be thought rashnesse or rude- nesse for Euphues to frame a table for Elizabeth, though he presume not to paynt hir. Let Appelles shewe his fine arte, Euphues will manifest his faythfull heart, the one can but prove his conceite to blase his cunning, the other his good will to grinde his coulours : hee that whetteth the tooles is not to bee misliked, though hee can-not carve the Image ; the worme that spinneth the silke is to be esteemed, though she "cannot worke the sampler; they that fell tymber for shippes, are not to be blamed, bicause they can-not builde shippes. 16 commended. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 11 He that caryeth morter furthereth the building, though hee be no expert Mason ; hee that diggeth the garden is to be considered, though he cannot treade the knottes 17 ; the Gold-smythes boye must have his wages for blowing the fire, though he can-not fashion the Jewell. Then, Ladyes, I hope poore Euphues shall not bee reviled, though hee deserve not to bee rewarded. I will set downe this Elizabeth, as neere as I can : And it may be that, as the Venus of Appelles not finished, the Tindarides of Nichomachus not ended, the Medea of Timomachus not perfected, the table of Parrhasius not couloured, brought greater desire to them to consumate them, and to others to see them : so the Elizabeth of Euphues, being but shadowed for others to vernish, but begun for others to ende, but drawen with a blacke coale, for others to blaze with a bright coulour, may worke either 'a desire in Euphues heereafter, if he live, to ende it, or a minde in those that are better able to amende it, or in all (if none can worke it) a wil[l] to wish it. In the meane season I say as Zeuxis did when he had drawen the picture of A/a/an/a, more wil envie me then imitate me, and not corn- men de it though they cannot amende it. But I come to my England. There were for a long time civill wars in this [the] countrey, by reason of several claymes to the Crowne, betweene the two famous and noble houses of Lancaster and Yorke, either of them pretending to be of the royall bloude, which caused them both to spende their vitall bloode ; these jarres continued long, not with- out great losse, both to the Nobilitie and Communaltie, who, joyning not in one, but divers parts, turned the realme to great mine, having almost destroyed their countrey before they coulde annoynt * a king. But the lyving God, who was loath to oppresse England, at last began to represse injuries, and to give an ende by mercie to those that could finde no ende of malice, nor looke for any ende of mis- 17 lay out the garden plots. * anoint. 12 JOHN LYLY. chiefe. So tender a care hath he alwaies had of that England as of a new Israel, his chosen and peculier [peculiar] people. This peace began by a marriage solemnized by Gods speciall providence betweene Henrie Earle of Ritchmond, heire of the house of Lancaster, and Elizabeth, daughter to Edward the fourth, the undoubted issue and heire of the house of Yorke, where by (as they tearme it) the redde Rose and the white were united and joyned together. Out of these Roses sprang two noble buddes, Prince Arthur and Henrie, the eldest dying without issue, the other of most famous memorie leaving behind him three chil- dren, Prince Edwarde, the Ladie Marie, the Ladie Elizabeth. King Edwarde lived not long, which coulde never for that Realme have lived too long, but sharpe frostes bite forwarde springes, Easterly windes blasteth towardly 18 blossoms, cruell death spareth not those which we our selves living cannot spare. The elder sister, the Princes Marie, succeeded as next heire to the crowne, and as it chaunced nexte heire to the grave, touching whose life I can say little bicause I was scarce borne, and what others say, of 19 me shalbe forborne. This Queene being deseased [deceased], Elizabeth, being of the age of xxii.* yeares, of more beautie then honour, and yet of more honour then any earthly creature, was called from a prisoner to be a Prince, from the castell [Castle] to the crowne, from the feare of loosing hir heade, to be supreame heade. And here, Ladies, it may be you wil[l] move a question, why this noble Ladie was either in daunger of death, or cause of distresse, which, had you thought to have passed in silence, I would notwithstand- ing have reveiled [revealed]. This Ladie all the time of hir sisters reigne was kept close, as one that tendered m not those proceedings which were contrarie to hir conscience, who, having divers enemies, endured many crosses, but so patiently as in hir deepest sorrow, she would rather sigh for the libertie of the gospel then hir own freedome. Suffer- 18 early. 19 by. * xxv. w favored. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 13 ing her inferiours to triumph over hir, hir foes to threaten hir, hir dissembling friends to undermine hir, learning in all this miserie onely the patience that Zeno taught Eretricus, to beare and for- beare, never seeking revenge but with good Lycitrgus, to loose hir owne eye, rather then to hurt an others eye. But being nowe placed in the seate royall, she first of al[l] estab- lished religion, banished poperie, advaunced the worde, that before was so much defaced, who having in hir hande the sworde to revenge, used rather bountifully to reward : Being as farre from rigour when shee might have killed, as hir enemies were from honestie when they coulde not, giving a general pardon, when she had cause to use perticuler punishments, preferring the name of pittie before the remembrance of perils, thinking no revenge more princely, then to spare when she might spill, 21 to staye when she might strike, to profer to save with mercie, when she might have destroyed with justice. Heere is the clemencie worthie commen- dation and admiration, nothing inferiour to the gentle disposition of Arts fides, who after his exile did not so much as note them that banished him, saying with Alexander that there can be nothing more noble then to doe well to those that deserve yll. This mightie and merciful Queene, having many bils [billes] of private persons, yat sought before time to betray hir, burnt them all, resembling Julius Casar, who, being presented with ye like complaints of his commons, threw them into ye fire, saying that he had rather not knowe the names of rebels, then have occasion to reveng[e], thinking it better to be ignorant of those that hated him, then to be angrie with them. This clemencie did hir majestic not onely shew at hir comming to the crowne, but also throughout hir whole governement, when she hath spared to shedde their bloods that sought to spill hirs, not racking the lawes to extremitie, but mittigating the rigour with mercy, insomuch as it may be said of yat royal Monarch as it was of Antonius, surnamed ye godly Emperour, who raigned many 21 destroy. 14 JOHN LYLY. yeares with-out the effusion of blood. What greater vertue can there be in a Prince then mercy, what greater praise then to abate the edge which she should wette, 22 to pardon where she shoulde punish, to rewarde where she should revenge. I my selfe being in England, when hir majestic was for hir recreation in hir Barge upon ye Thames, hard of a Gun that was shotte off, though of the partie unwittingly, yet to hir noble person daungerously, which fact she most graciously pardoned, accepting a just excuse before a great amends, taking more griefe for hir poore Bargeman that was a little hurt, then care for hir selfe that stoode in greatest hasarde : O rare example of pittie, O singuler spectacle of pietie. Divers besides have there beene which by private conspiracies, open rebellions, close wiles, cruel witchcraftes, have sought to ende hir life, which saveth all their lives, whose practises by the divine providence of the almightie have ever been disclosed, insomuch that he hath kept hir safe in the whales belly when hir subjects went about to throwe hir into the sea, preserved hir in the [hotte] hoat Oven, when hir enimies encreased the fire, not suffering a haire to fal[l]from hir, much lesse any harme to fasten uppon hir. These injuries and treasons of hir subjects, these policies and undermining of forreine nations so little moved hir, yat she woulde often say, Let them knowe that, though it bee not lawfull for them to speake what they list, yet it is [is it] lawfull for us to doe with them what we list, being alwayes of that mercifull minde which was in Theodosius, who wished rather that he might call the deade to life, then put the living to death, saying with Augiistus, when she shoulde set hir hande to any condempnation, I woulde to God we could not writ[e]. Infinite were the ensamples that might be alledged, and almost incredible, whereby shee hath shewed hir selfe a Lambe in meekenesse, when she had cause to be a Lion in might, proved a Dove in favour, when she was provoked to be an Eagle in fiercenesse, requiting injuries with benefits, revenging 22 whet. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 15 grudges with gifts, in highest majestic bearing the lowest minde, forgiving all that sued for mercie, and forgetting all that deserved Justice. O divine nature, O heavenly nobilitie, what thing can there more be required in a Prince then in greatest power to shewe greatest patience, in chiefest glorye to bring forth chiefest grace, in abundaunce of all earthlye pom[p]e to manifest aboundaunce of all heavenlye pietie : O fortunate England that hath such a Queene, ungratefull, if thou praye not for hir, wicked, if thou do not love hir, miserable, if thou loose hir. Heere, Ladies, is a Glasse for all Princes to behold, that being called to dignitie, they use moderation, not might, tempering the severitie of the lawes with the mildnes of love, not executing al[l] they wil, but shewing what they may. Happy are they, and onely they, that are under this glorious and gracious Sovereigntie ; inso- much that I accompt all those abjects, that be not hir subjectes. But why doe I treade still in one path, when I have so large a fielde to walke, or lynger about one flower, when I have manye to gather : where-in I resemble those that, beeinge delighted with the little brooke, neglect the fountaines head, or that painter that, being curious to coulour Cupids Bow, forgot to paint the string. As this noble Prince is endued with mercie, pacience and mod- eration, so is she adourned with singuler beautie and chastitie, excelling in the one Venus, in the other Vesta. Who knoweth not how rare a thing it is Ladies to match virginitie with beautie, a chast[e] minde with an amiable face, divine cogitations with a comelye countenaunce ? But suche is the grace bestowed uppon this earthlye Goddesse, that, having the beautie that myght allure all Princes, she hath the chastitie also to refuse all, account- ing [accompting] it no lesse praise to be called a Virgin, then to be esteemed a Venus, thinking it as great honour to bee found chast[e], as thought amiable. Where is now Electra the chast[e] Daughter of Agamemnon ? Where is Lala, that renoumed Virgin ? Wher is Aemilia, that through hir chastitie wrought wonders, in maintayning continuall fire at the Altar of Vestat Where is 16 JOHN LYLY. Claudia, that to manifest hir virginitie set the Shippe on float with hir finger, that multitudes could not remove by force? Where is Tuscia, one of the same order, that brought to passe no lesse mervailes by carrying water in a sive, not shedding one drop from Tiber to the Temple of Vesta ? If Virginitie have such force, then what hath this chast Virgin Elizabeth don[e], who by the space of twenty and odde yeares with continuall peace against all policies, with sundry myracles contrary to all hope, hath gov- erned that noble Island ? Against whome neyther forre[i]n force, nor civill fraude, neyther discorde at home, nor conspiracies abroad, could prevaile. What greater mervaile hath happened since the beginning of the world, then for a young and tender Maiden to govern strong and valiaunt menne, then for a Virgin to make the whole wo ride, if not to stand in awe of hir, yet to honour hir, yea and to live in spight of all those that spight hir, with hir sword in the she[a]th, with hir armour in the Tower, with hir soul- diers in their gownes, insomuch as hir peace may be called more blessed then the quiet raigne of Numa Pompilius, in whose gov- ernment the Bees have made their hives in the soldiers hel- mettes ? Now is the Temple of Janus removed from Rome to England, whose dore hath not bene opened this twentie yeares, more to be mervayled at then the regiment 23 of Debora, who ruled twentie yeares with religion, or Semeriamis \_Semyramis~\, that governed long with power, or Zenobia, that reigned six yeares in prosperitie. This is the onelye myracle that virginitie ever wrought, for a little Island environed round about with warres to stande in peace, for the walles of Fraunce to burne, and the houses of England to freese, for all other nations eyther with civile [cruell] sworde to bee devided, or with forren foes to be invaded, and that countrey neyther to be molested with broyles in their owne bosomes, nor threatned with blasts of other borderers : But alwayes though not laughing, yet looking through an Emeraud at others jarres. 23 rule. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 17 Their fields have beene sowne with corne, straungers theirs pytched with Camps ; they have their men reaping their harvest, when others are mustring in their harneis ; they use their peeces to fowle for pleasure, others their Calivers 2 * for feare of perrill. O blessed peace, oh happy Prince, O fortunate people : The lyv- ing God is onely the English God, wher[e] he hath placed peace, which bryngeth all plentie, annoynted a Virgin Queene, which with a wand ruleth hir owne subjects, and with hir worthinesse winneth the good willes of straungers, so that she is no lesse gra- tious among hir own, then glorious to others, no lesse loved of hir people, then merva[i]led at of other nations. This is the blessing that Christ alwayes gave to his people, peace : This is the curse that hee giveth to the wicked, there shall bee no peace to the ungodlye : This was the onely salutation hee used to his Disciples, peace be unto you : And therefore is hee called the G O D of love, and peace in hollye [holy] writte. In peace was the Temple of the Lorde buylt by Salomon, Christ would not be borne untill there were peace through- out the whole worlde, this was the only thing that Esechias prayed for, let there be trueth and peace, O Lorde, in my dayes. All which examples doe manifestly prove, that ther[e] can be nothing given of God to man more notable than peace. This peace hath the Lorde continued with great and unspeake- able goodnesse amonge his chosen people of England. How much is that nation bounde to such a Prince, by whome they enjoye all benefits of peace, having their barnes full, when others famish, their cof[f]ers stuffed with gold, when others have no silver, their wives without daunger, when others are defamed, their daughters chast, when others are defloured, theyr houses furnished, when others are fired, where they have all thinges for superfluitie, others nothing to sustaine their neede. This peace hath God given for hir vertues, pittie, moderation, virginitie, which peace, the same God of peace continue for his names sake. 24 muskets. 18 JOHN LYLY. Touching the beautie of this Prince, hir countenaunce, hir per- sonage, hir majestic, I can-not thinke that it may be sufficiently commended, when it can-not be too much mervailed at : So that I am constrained to saye as Praxitiles did, when hee beganne to paynt Venus and hir Sonne, who doubted whether the worlde could affoorde coulours good enough for two such fayre faces, and I whether our tongue canne yeelde wordes to blase that beautie, the perfection where-of none canne imagine, which seeing it is so, I must doe like those that want a cleere sight, who being not able to discerne the Sunne in the Skie are inforced to beholde it in the water. Zeuxis having before him fiftie faire virgins of Sparta where by to draw one amiable Venus, said that fiftie more fayrer then those coulde not minister sufficient beautie to shewe the Godesse of beautie ; therefore being in dispaire either by art to shadow hir, or by imagination to comprehend hir, he drew in a table a faire temple, the gates open, and Venus going in, so as nothing coulde be perceived but hir backe, wherein he used such cunning that Appelles himselfe seeing this worke, wished yat Venus woulde turne hir face, saying yat if it were in all partes agreeable to the backe, he woulde become apprentice to Zeuxis, and slave to Venus. In the like manner fareth it with me, for having all the Ladyes in Italy more than fiftie hundered, whereby to coulour Elizabeth, I must say with Zeuxis, that as many more will not suffise, and therefore in as great an agonie paint hir court with hir back towards you, for yat I cannot by art portraie hir beautie, wherein though I want the skill to doe it as Zeuxis did, yet v[i]ew- ing it narrowly, and comparing it wisely, you all will say yat if hir face be aunswerable to hir backe, you wil[l] like my handi-crafte, and become hir handmaides. In the meane season I leave you gazing untill she turne hir face, imagining hir to be such a one as nature framed to yat end, that no art should imitate, wherein shee hath proved hir selfe to bee exquisite, and painters to be Apes. This Beautifull moulde when I behelde to be endued with chas- titie, temperance, mildnesse, and all other good giftes of nature (as hereafter shall appeare) when I saw hir to surpasse all in EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 19 beautie, and yet a virgin, to excell all in pietie, and yet a prince, to be inferiour to none in all the liniaments of the bodie, and yet superiour to every one in all giftes of the minde, I beegan thus to pray, that as she hath lived fortie yeares a virgin in great majestic, so she may lyve fourescore yeares a mother with great joye, that as with hir we have long time hadde peace and plentie, so by hir we may ever have quietnesse and aboundaunce,' wishing this even from the bottome of a heart that wisheth well to England, though feareth ill, that either the world may ende before she dye, or she lyve to see hir childrens children in the world : otherwise, how tickle K their state is yat now triumph, upon what a twist they hang that now are in honour, they yat lyve shal see which I to thinke on sigh. But God for his mercies sake, Christ for his merits sake, ye holy Ghost for his names sake, graunt to that realme comfort without anye ill chaunce, and the Prince they have without any other chaunge, that ye longer she liveth the sweeter she may smell, lyke the bird Ibis, that she maye be triumphant in victories lyke the Palme tree, fruitfull in hir age lyke the Vyne, in all ages prosperous, to all men gratious, in all places glorious : so that there be no ende of hir praise, untill the ende of all flesh. Thus did I often talke with my selfe, and wishe with mine whole soule [heart]. What should I talke of hir sharpe wit, excellent wisdome, exqui- site learning, and all other qualities of the minde, where-in she seemeth as farre to excell those that have bene accompted singu- lar, as the learned have surpassed those that have bene thought simple? In questioning not inferiour to Nicaulia the Queene of Saba, that did put so many hard doubts to Salomon, equall to Nico- strata in the Greeke tongue, who was thought to give precepts for the better perfection : more learned in the Latine then Amala- sunta : passing Aspasia in Philosophic, who taught Pericles : exceeding in judgement Themistoclea, who instructed Pithagoras, 25 unsteady. 20 - JOHN LYLY. adde to these qualyties those that none of these had, the French tongue, the Spanish, the Italian, not meane in every one, but excellent in all, readyer to correct escapes 26 in those languages, then to be controlled, fitter to teach others, then learne of anye, more able to adde new rules, then to err in ye olde : Insomuch as there is no Embassadour that commeth into hir court, but she is willing and able both to understand his message, and utter hir minde, not lyke unto ye Kings of Assiria, who aunswere[d] Em- bassades by messengers, while they themselves either dally in sinne, or snort in sleepe. Hir godly zeale to learning, with hir great skil, hath bene so manifestly approved, yat I cannot tell whether she deserve more honour for hir knowledge, or admiration for hir curtesie, who in great pompe hath twice directed hir Prog- resse unto the Universities, with no lesse joye to the Students then glory to hir State. Where, after long and solempne disputations in Law, Phisicke, and Divinitie, not as one we[a]ried with Schol- lers arguments, but wedded to their orations, when every one feared to offend in length, she in hir own person, with no lesse praise to hir Majestic, then delight to hir subjects, with a wise and learned conclusion, both gave them thankes, and put selfe 27 to paines. O noble patterne. of a princelye minde, not like to ye kings of Persia, who in their progresses did nothing els but cut stickes to drive away the time, nor like ye delicate lives of the Sybar-ites, who would not admit any Art to be exercised within their citie, yat might make ye least noyse. Hir wit so sharp, that if I should repeat the apt aunsweres, ye subtil questions, ye fine speaches, ye pithie sentences, which on ye sodain she hath uttered, they wold rather breed admiration then credit. But such are ye gifts yat ye living God hath indued hir with-all, that Looke in what Arte or Language, wit or learning, vertue or beautie, any one hath particularly excelled most, she onely hath generally exceeded every one in al, insomuch that there is nothing to bee added, that either man would wish in a woman, or God doth give to a creature. 26 mistakes. v herself: perhaps hir omitted in Arber's text. EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 21 I let passe hir skill in Musicke, hir knowledg[e] in al[l] ye other sciences, when as I feare least by my simplicity I shoulde make them lesse then they are, in seeking to shewe howe great they are, unlesse I were praising hir in the gallerie of Olympia, where gyv- ing forth one worde, I might heare seven. But all these graces 28 although they be to be wondered at, yet hir politique governement, hir prudent counsaile, hir zeale to religion, hir clemencie to those that submit, hir stoutnesse to those that threaten, so farre exceede all other vertues that they are more easie to be mervailed at then imitated. Two and twentie yeares hath she borne the sword with such justice that neither offenders coulde complaine of rigour, nor the innocent of wrong, yet so tempered with mercie, as malefactours have beene sometimes pardoned upon hope of grace, and the injured requited to ease their griefe, insomuch that in ye whole course of hir glorious raigne, it coulde never be saide that either the poore were oppressed without remedie, or the guiltie repressed without cause, bearing this engraven in hir noble heart, that justice without mercie were extreame injurie, and pittie without equitie plaine partialitie, and that it is as great tyranny not to mitigate Laws as iniquitie to breake them. Hir care for the flourishing of the Gospell hath wel appeared, whenas neither the curses of the Pope, (which are blessings to good people) nor the threatenings of kings, (which are perillous to a Prince) nor the perswasions of Papists (which are Honny to the mouth) could either feare 29 hir, or allure hir, to violate the holy league contracted with Christ, or to maculate the blood of the aunciente Lambe, whiche is Christ. But alwayes constaunt in the true fayth, she hath to the exceeding joye of hir subjectes, to the unspeakeable comforte of hir soule, to the great glorye of God, establyshed that religion, the mayntenance where-of shee rather seeketh to confirme by fortitude, then leave off for feare, knowing that there is nothing that smelleth sweeter to the Lorde then a 28 No predicate for this subject. 29 frighten. 22 JOHN LYLY. sounde spirite, which neyther the hostes of the ungodlye, nor the horror of death, can eyther remo[o]ve or move. This Gospell with invincible courage, with rare constancie, with hotte zeale shee hath maintained in hir owne countries without chaunge, and defended against all kingdomes that sought chaunge, in-somuch that all nations rounde about hir, threatninge alteration, shaking swordes, throwing fyre, menacing famyne, murther, destruc- tion, desolation, shee onely hath stoode like a Lampe [Lambe] on the toppe of a hill, not fearing the blastes of the sharpe winds, but trusting in his providence that rydeth uppon the winges of the foure windes. Next followeth the love shee beareth to hir sub- jectes, who no lesse tendereth them then the apple of hir owne eye, shewing hir selfe a mother to the a[fjflicted, a Phisition to the sicke, a Sovereigne and mylde Governesse to all. Touchinge hir Magnanimitie, hir Majestic, hir Estate royall, there was neyther Alexander, nor Galba the Emperour, nor any that might be compared with hir. This is she that, resembling the noble Queene of Navarr\e\, useth the Marigolde for hir flower, which at the rising of the Sunne openeth hir leaves, and at the setting shutteth them, referring all hir actions and endevours to him that ruleth the Sunne. This is that Ccesar that first bound the Crocodile to the Palme tree, bri- dling those that sought to raine [rayne] hir : This is that good Pelican that to feede hir people spareth not to rend hir owne per- sonne : This is that mightie Eagle, that hath throwne dust into the eyes of the Hart, that went about to worke destruction to hir subjectes, into whose winges although the blinde Beetle would have crept, and so being carryed into hir nest, destroyed hir young ones, yet hath she with the vertue of hir fethers, consumed that flye in his owne fraud. She hath exiled the Swallowe that sought to spoyle the Gras- hopper, and given bytter Almondes to the ravenous Wolves that ende[a]vored to devoure the silly Lambes, burning even with the breath of hir mouth like ye princ[e]ly Stag, the serpents yat wer[e] engendred by the breath of the huge Elephant, so that now all hir EUPHUES AND HIS ENGLAND. 23 enimies are as whist 30 as the bird Attagen, who never singeth any tune after she is taken, nor they beeing so overtaken. But whether do I wade, Ladyes, as one forgetting him-selfe, thinking to sound the dep[t]h of hir vertues with a few fadomes, when there is no bottome : For I knowe not how it commeth to passe that, being in this Laborinth, I may sooner loose my selfe then finde the ende. Beholde, Ladyes, in this Glasse a Queene, a woeman, a Virgin in all giftes of the bodye, in all graces of the minde, in all perfection of eyther, so farre to excell all men, that I know not whether I may thinke the place too badde for hir to dwell amonge men. To talke of other thinges in that Court, wer[e] to bring Egges after apples, or after the setting out of the Sunne, to tell a tale of a Shaddow. But this I saye, that all offyces are looked to with great care, that vertue is embraced of 19 all, vice hated, religion daily encreased, manners reformed, that who so seeth the place there, will thinke it rather a Church for divine service, then a Court for Princes delight. This is the Glasse, Ladies, wher-in I woulde have you gase, wher-in I tooke my whole delight; imitate the Ladyes in England, amende your manners, rubbe out the wrinckles of the minde, and be not curious about the weams 31 in the face. As for their Eliz- abeth, sith 32 you can neyther sufficiently mervaile at hir, nor I prayse hir, let us all pray for hir, which is the onely duetie we can per- forme, and the greatest that we can proffer. Yours to commaund Euphues. 30 still. 31 blemishes. 82 since. II. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. (15541586.) AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. [Written about 1581.] SITH l then Poetrie is of all humane learning the most auncient, and of most fatherly antiquitie, as from whence other learnings have taken theyr beginnings : sith it is so universall that no learned Nation dooth despise it, nor no barbarous Nation is without it : sith both Roman and Greek gave divine names unto it : the one of prophecying, the other of making. And that, indeede, that name of making is fit for him ; considering that, where as other Arts retaine themselves within their subject, and receive, as it were, their beeing from it : the Poet onely bringeth his owne stuffe, and dooth not learne a conceite 2 out of a matter, but maketh matter for a conceite : Sith neither his description, nor his ende, contayneth any evill, the thing described cannot be evill : Sith his effects be so good as to teach goodness and to delight the learners : Sith therein, (namely in morrall doctrine, the chiefe of all knowl- edges,) hee dooth not onely farre passe the Historian, but for instructing is well nigh comparable to the Philosopher : and for moving leaves him behind him : Sith the holy scripture (wherein there is no uncleannes) hath whole parts in it poeticall. And that even our Saviour Christ vouchsafed to use the flowers of it : Sith all his kindes are not onlie in their united formes, but in their severed dissections fully commendable, I think, (and think I 1 since. 2 idea. 24 AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 25 thinke rightly) the Lawrell crowne appointed for tryumphing Cap- taines doth worthilie (of al other 3 learnings) honor the Poets tryumph. But because wee have eares aswell as tongues, and that the lightest reasons that may be, will seeme to weigh greatly, if nothing be put in the counter-ballance : let us heare, and aswell as wee can, ponder what objections may bee made against this Arte, which may be worthy, eyther of yeelding, or answering. First truely I note, not onely in these Mysonwusoi, Poet-haters, but in all that kinde of people, who seek a prayse by dispraysing others, that they doe prodigally spend a great many wandering wordes in quips and scoffes ; carping and taunting at each thing, which by styrring the Spleene, may stay the braine from a through beholding the worthines of the subject. Those kinde 3 of objections, as they are full of very idle easines, sith there is nothing of so sacred a majestic, but that an itching tongue may rubbe it selfe upon it : so deserve they no other answer, but in steed of laughing at the jest, to laugh at the jester. Wee know a playing wit can prayse the discretion of an Asse, the comfortablenes of being in debt, and the jolly commoditie 4 of beeing sick of the plague. So of the contrary side, if we will turne Ovids verse, Ut lateat virtus proximitate malt? that good lye hid in the neerenesse of the evill : Agrippa will be as merry in shewing the vanitie of Science, as Erasmus was in commending of follie. Neyther shall any man or matter escape some touch of these smyling raylers. But for Erasmus and Agrippa, they had another foundation then the superficiall part would promise. Mary, these other pleasant Fault-finders, who wil correct the Verbe before they understande the Noune, and confute others knowledge before they confirme theyr owne : I would have them onely remember that scoffing commeth not of 8 Common phrase in Elizabethan English, though incorrect. 4 advantage. 6 Possibly after Ovid's Art of Love, II. 662 : Et lateat vitium proximitate boni, And vice may lie hid in the nearness of good. 26 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. wisedom. So as the best title in true English they gette with their merriments, is to be called good fooles : for so have our grave Fore-fathers ever termed that humorous kinde of jesters : but that which gyveth greatest scope to their scorning humors, is ryming and versing. It is already sayde (and as I think, trulie sayde) it is not ryming and versing that maketh Poesie. One may bee a Poet without versing, and a versifier without Poetry. But yet, presuppose it were inseparable (as indeede it seemeth Scaliger judgeth) truelie it were an inseparable commendation. For if Oratio, next to Ratio, Speech next to Reason, bee the greatest gyft bestowed upon mortalitie : that can not be praiselesse, which dooth most pollish that blessing of speech, which considers each word, not only (as a man may say) by his forcible qualitie, but by his best measured quantitie, carrying even in themselves a Har- monic : (without 7 (perchaunce) Number, Measure, Order, Pro- portion, be in our time growne odious.) But lay a side the just prayse it hath, by beeing the onely fit speech for Musick, (Musick I say, the most divine striker of the sences :) thus much is un- doubtedly true, that if reading bee foolish without remembring, memorie being the onely treasurer of knowled[g]e, those words which are fittest for memory are likewise most convenient for knowledge. Now, that Verse farre exceedeth Prose in the knitting up of the memory, the reason is manifest. The words, (besides theyr delight which hath a great affinitie to memory,) beeing so set, as one word cannot be lost, but the whole worke failes : which accuseth it selfe, calleth the remembrance backe to it selfe, and so most strongly confirmeth it ; besides, one word so as it were begetting another, as be it in ryme or measured verse, by the former a man shall have a neere guesse to the follower : lastly, even they that have taught the Art of memory, have shewed nothing so apt for it as a certaine roome devided into many places well and thor- oughly knowne. Now, that hath the verse in effect perfectly : every word having his naturall seate, which seate must needes make the words remembred. But what needeth more in a thing AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 27 so knowne to all men? who is it that ever was a scholler, that doth not carry away some verses of Virgill, Horace, or Cato, which in his youth he learned, and even to his old age serve him for howrely lessons? but the fitnes it hath for memory, is notably proved by all delivery of Arts : wherein for the most part, from Grammer, to Logick, Mathematick, Phisick, and the rest, the rules chiefely necessary to bee borne away are compiled in verses. So that, verse being in it selfe sweete and orderly, and beeing best for memory, the onely handle of knowledge, it must be in jest that any man can speake against it. Nowe then goe wee to the most important imputations laid to the poore Poets, for ought I can yet learne they are these, first, that there beeing many other more fruitefull knowledges, a man might better spend his tyme in them, then in this. Secondly, that it is the mother of lyes. Thirdly, that it is the Nurse of abuse, infecting us with many pestilent desires : with a Syrens sweetness drawing the mind to the Ser- pents tayle of sinful fancy. And heerein especially Comedies give the largest field to erre,* as Chaucer sayth : howe both in other Nations and in ours, before Poets did soften us, we were full of courage, given to martiall exercises ; the pillars of manlyke liberty, and not lulled a sleepe in shady idlenes with Poets pastimes. And lastly, and chiefely, they cry out with an open mouth, as if they out shot Robin Hood, that Plato banished them out of hys Common-wealth. Truely, this is much, if there be much truth in it. First to the first : that a man might better spend his tyme, is a reason indeede : but it doth (as they say) but Petere princi- piurn 6 : for if it be as I affirme, that no learning is so good as that which teacheth and mooveth to vertue ; and that none can both teach and move thereto so much as Poetry : then is the conclusion manifest that Incke and Paper cannot be to a more profitable purpose employed. And certainly, though a man should graunt their first assumption, it should followe (me thinkes) very unwillingly that good is not good, because better is better. * ear, i.e., plough. 6 Beg the question. 28 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. But I still and utterly denye that there is sprong out of earth a more fruiteful knowledge. To the second therefore, that they should be the principall lyars ; I aunsvvere paradoxically, but truely, I thinke truely ; that of all Writers under the sunne, the Poet is the least Her : and though he would, as a Poet can scarcely be a Iyer, the Astronomer, with his cosen the Geometrician, can hardly escape, when they take upon them to measure the height of the starres. How often, thinke you, doe the Phisitians lye, when they aver things good for sicknesses, which afterwards send Charon a great nomber of soules drown[e]d in a potion before they come to his Ferry ? And no lesse of the rest which take upon them to affirme. Now, for the Poet, he nothing affirm es, and therefore never lyeth. For, as I take it, to lye is to affirme that to be true which is false. So as the other Artists, and especially the Historian, affirming many things, can in the cloudy knowledge of mankinde hardly escape from many lyes. But the Poet (as I sayd before) never affirmeth. The Poet never maketh any circles about your imagi- nation, to conjure you to beleeve for true what he writes. Hee citeth not authorities of other Histories, but even for hys entry calleth the sweete Muses to inspire into him a good invention : in troth, not labouring to tell you what is, or is not, but what should or should not be : and therefore, though he recount things not true, yet because hee telleth them not for true, he lyeth not, without 7 we will say, that Nathan lyed in his speech before alledged to David. Which as a wicked man durst scarce say, so think I, none so simple would say that Esope lyed in the tales of his beasts : for who thinks that Esope writ it for actually true, were well worthy to have his name c[h]ronicled among the beastes hee writeth of. What childe is there that, comming to a Play, and seeing Thebes written in great Letters upon an olde doore, doth beleeve that it is Thebes ? If then, a man can arrive at that childs age, to know 7 Use of without as conjunction, now incorrect. AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 29 that the Poets persons and dooings are but pictures what should be, and not stories what have beene, they will never give the lye to things not affirmatively, but allegorically, and figurativelie writ- ten. And therefore, as in Historic, looking for trueth, they goe away full fraught with falshood : so in Poesie, looking for fiction, they shal use the narration but as an imaginative groundplot of a profitable invention. But heereto is replyed, that the Poets gyve names to men they write of, which argueth a conceite of an actuall truth, and so, not being true, prooves a falshood. And doth the Lawyer lye then, when under the names of John a stile and John a noakes, hee puts his case ? But that is easily answered. Theyr naming of men is but to make theyr picture the more lively, and not to builde any historic : paynting men, they cannot leave men name- lesse. We see we cannot play at Chesse, but that wee must give names to our Chesse-men ; and yet mee thinks, hee were a very partiall Champion of truth, that would say we lyed for giving a peece of wood the reverend title of a Bishop. The Poet nameth Cyrus or Aeneas no other way than to shewe what men of theyr fames, fortunes, and estates, should doe. Their third is, how much it abuseth mens wit, trayning it to wanton sinfulnes, and lustfull love : for indeed that is the prin- cipal!, if not the onely, abuse I can heare alledged. They say, the Comedies rather teach, then reprehend, amorous conceits. They say, the Lirick is larded with passionate Sonnets. The Elegiack weepes the want of his mistresse. And that even to the Heroical, Ctipid hath ambitiously climed. Alas, Love, I would thou couldest as well defende thy selfe, as thou canst offende others. I would those, on whom thou doost attend, could eyther put thee away, or yeelde good reason why they keepe thee. But grant love of beautie to be a beastlie fault, (although it be very hard, sith onely man, and no beast, hath that gyft, to discerne beauty.) Grant that lovely name of Love to deserve all hateful reproches : (although even some of my Maisters the Phylosophers, spent a good deale of their Lamp-oyle, in setting foorth the excellencie 30 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. of it.) Grant, I say, what soever they wil have granted ; that not onely love, but lust, but vanitie, but (if they list) scurrilitie, possesseth many leaves of the Poets bookes : yet thinke I, when this is granted, they will finde theyr sentence may with good manners, put the last words foremost : and not say that Poetrie abuseth mans wit, but that mans wit abuseth Poetrie. For I will not denie but that mans wit may make Poesie, (which should be Eikastike* which some learned have defined, figuring foorth good things,) to be Phantastike'* : which doth con- trariwise, infect the fancie with unworthy objects. As the Painter, that shoulde give to the eye eyther some excellent perspective, or some fine picture, fit for building or fortification : or contayning in it some notable example, as Abraham, sacrificing his sonne Isaack, Judith killing Holof ernes, David fighting with Goliah, may leave those, and please an ill-pleased eye, with wanton shewes of better hidden matters. But what, shall the abuse of a thing make the right use odious? Nay truely, though I yeeld that Poesie may not onely be abused, but that beeing abused, by the reason of his sweete charming force, it can doe more hurt than any other Armie of words : yet shall it be so far from concluding that the abuse should give reproch to the abused, that contrariwise it is a good reason, that whatsoever being abused, dooth most harme, beeing rightly used, (and upon the right use each thing conceiveth his title) doth most good. Doe wee not see the skill of Phisick, (the best rampire 10 to our often-assaulted bodies) beeing abused, teach poyson the most violent destroyer? Dooth not knowledge of Law, whose end is to even and right all things, being abused, grow the crooked fos- terer of horrible injuries? Doth not (to goe to the highest) Gods word abused, breed heresie? and his Name abused, become blas- phemie? Truely, a needle cannot doe much hurt, and as truely, (with leave of Ladies be it spoken) it cannot doe much good. With a sword, thou maist kill thy Father, and with a sword thou 8 representative or imitative. 9 imaginative. 10 defence. AN APOLOGIE FOR POETKIE. 31 maist defende thy Prince and Country. So that, as in their calling Poets the Fathers of lyes, they say nothing : so in this theyr argument of abuse, they proove the commendation. They alledge heere-with, that before Poets beganne to be in price, our Nation hath set their harts delight upon action, and not upon imagination : rather doing things worthy to bee written, than writing things fitte to be done. What that before tyme was, I thinke scarcely Sphinx can tell : Sith no memory is so auncient that hath the precedence of Poetrie. And certaine it is, that in our plainest homelines, yet never was the Albion Nation without Poetrie. Mary, thys argument, though it bee leaveld against Poetrie, yet is it, indeed, a chaine-shot against all learning, or bookishnes, as they commonly tearme it. Of such minde were certaine Gothes, of whom it is written, that having in the spoile of a famous Citie, taken a fayre librarie : one hangman (bee-like fitte to execute the fruites of their wits) who had murthered a great number of bodies, would have set fire on it : no, sayde another, very gravely, take heede what you doe, for whyle they are busie about these toyes, wee shall with more leysure conquer their Countries. This indeede is the ordinary doctrine of ignorance, and many wordes sometymes I have heard spent in it : but because this reason is generally against all learning, aswell as Poetrie ; or rather, all learning but Poetry : because it were too large a digres- sion, to handle, or at least, to superfluous : (sith it is manifest, that all government of action, is to be gotten by knowledg, and knowl- edge best, by gathering many knowledges, which is, reading,) I onely with Horace, to him that is of that opinion, Jubeo stultum esse libenter : u for, as for Poetrie it selfe, it is the freest from thys objection. For Poetrie is the companion of the Campes. 11 Bid him be foolish willingly. Perhaps after HORACE, Satires, 1. 1. 63: Jubeas miser um esse, libenter Quatenus id facit. 32 SIX PHILIP SIDNEY. I dare undertake, Orlando Furioso, or honest King Arthur, will never displease a Souldier : but the quiddity of Ens, and Prima materia^ will hardely agree with a Corslet : and therefore, as I said in the beginning, even Turks and Tartares are delighted with Poets. Homer, a Greek, florished before Greece florished. And if to a slight conjecture, a conjecture may be opposed : truly it may seeme that, as by him their learned men tooke almost their first light of knowledge, so their active men received their first motions of courage. Onlie Alexanders example may serve, who by Plutarch is accounted of such vertue that Fortune was not his guide, but his foote-stoole : whose acts speake for him, though Plutarch did not : indeede, the Phosnix of warlike Princes. This Alex- ander left his Schoolemaister, living Aristotle, behinde him, but tooke deade Homer with him : he put the Philosopher Calisthenes to death, for his seeming philosophicall, indeed mutinous stub- burnnes. But the chiefe thing he ever was heard to wish for, was, that Homer had been alive. He well found, he received more braverie of minde bye the patterne of Achilles, then by hearing the definition of Fortitude : and therefore, if Cato misliked Fulvius for carrying Ennius with him to the fielde, it may be aunswered, that if Cato misliked it, the noble Fulvius liked it, or els he had not doone it : for it was not the excellent Cato Uticensis, (whose authority I would much more have reverenced,) but it was the former 13 : in truth, a bitter punisher of faults, but else a man that had never wel sacrificed to the Graces. Hee misliked and cryed out upon all Greeke learning, and yet being 80. yeeres olde, began to learne it. Be-like, fearing that Pluto understood not Latine. Indeede, the Romaine lawes allowed no person to be carried to the warres, but hee that was in the Souldiers role : and therefore, though Cato misliked his unmustered person, hee misliked not his worke. And if hee had, Scipio Nasica, judged by common con- sent the best Romaine, loved him. Both the other Scipio Brothers, who had by their vertues no lesse surnames then of Asia and 12 being, m& first substance, philosophical terms. 13 i.e., Cato the Elder. AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 33 Affrick, so loved him that they caused his body to be buried in their Sepulcher. So as Cato, his authoritie being but against his person, and that aunswered with so farre greater then himselfe, is heerein of no validitie. But now indeede my burthen is great ; now Plato his name is layde upon mee, whom I must confesse, of all Philosophers, I have ever esteemed most worthy of reverence, and with great reason : Sith of all Philosophers, he is the most poeticall. Yet if he will defile the Fountaine, out of which his flowing streames have proceeded, let us boldly examine with what reasons hee did it. First truly, a man might maliciously object that Plato, being a Philosopher, was a naturall enemie of Poets : for indeede, after the Philosophers had picked out of the sweete mysteries of Poetrie the right discerning true points of knowledge, they forthwith, putting it in method, and making a Schoole-arte of that which the Poets did onely teach by a divine delightfulnes, beginning to spurne at their guides, like ungrateful Premises, were not content to set up shops for themselves, but sought by all meanes to discredit their maisters. Which by the force of delight beeing barred them, the lesse they could overthrow them, the more they hated them. For indeede, they found for Homer, seaven Cities strove who should have him for their citizen ; where many Citties banished Philosophers, as not fitte members to live among them. For onely repeating certaine of Euripides verses, many Athenians had their lyves saved of the Siracusians : when the Athenians themselves thought many Philosophers unwoorthie to live. Certaine Poets, as Simonides, and Pindarus, had so prevailed with Hiero the first, that of a Tirant they made him a just King, where Plato could do so little with Dionisius, that he himselfe, of a Philosopher, was made a slave. But who should doe thus, I confesse, should requite the objections made against Poets, with like cavillation against Philosophers, as likewise one should doe, that should bid one read Phcedrus, or Symposium in Plato, or the discourse of love in Plutarch, and see whether any Poet doe authorize abominable filthines, as they doe. . . . But I honor philo- 34 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. sophicall instructions, and blesse the wits which bred them : so as they be not abused, which is likewise stretched to Poetrie. S. Paule himselfe, (who yet for the credite of Poets alledgeth twise two Poets, and one of them by the name of a Prophet) set- teth a watch-word upon Philosophy, indeede upon the abuse. So dooth Plato, upon the abuse, not upon Poetrie. Plato found fault that the Poets of his time filled the worlde with wrong opinions of the Gods, making light tales of that unspotted essence ; and there- fore, would not have the youth depraved with such opinions. Heerin may much be said, let this suffice : the Poets did not induce such opinions, but dyd imitate those opinions already induced. For all the Greek stories can well testifie that the very religion of that time stoode upon many, and many-fashioned Gods, not taught so by the Poets, but followed, according to their nature of imitation. Who list may reade in Plutarch the discourses of Isis, and Osiris, of the cause why Oracles ceased, of the divine providence : and see whether the Theologie of that nation stood not upon such dreames, which the Poets indeed supersticiously observed, and truly, (sith they had not the light of Christ,) did much better in it then the Philosophers, who, shaking off super- stition, brought in Atheisme. Plato therefore, (whose authoritie I had much rather justly conster, 14 then unjustly resist,) meant not in general of Poets, in those words of which Julius Scaliger saith Qua authoritate, barbari quidam, atque hispidi, abuti velint, ad Poetas e republica exigendos : ^ but only meant, to drive out those wrong opinions of th/: Deitie (whereof-now, without further law, Christianity hath taken away all the hurtful beliefe,) perchance (as he thought) norished by the then esteemed Poets. And a man need goe no further then to Plato himselfe, to know his mean- ing : who in his Dialogue called Ion, giveth high, and rightly divine commendation to Poetrie. So as Plato, banishing the abuse, not the thing, not banishing it, but giving due honor unto it, shall be 14 construe. 15 Which authority certain barbarous and rude persons wish to abuse in order to drive poets out of the republic. AN A POLO G IE FOR POETRIE. 35 our Patron, and not our adversarie. For indeed I had much rather, (sith truly I may doe it) shew theyr mistaking of Plato, (under whose Lyons skin they would make an Asse-like braying against Poesie,) then goe about to overthrow his authority, whom the wiser a man is, the more just cause he shall find to have in admiration : especially, sith he attributeth unto Poesie more then my selfe doe ; namely, to be a very inspiring of a divine force, farre above mans wit ; as in the aforenamed Dialogue is apparent. Of the other side, who wold shew the honors, have been by the best sort of judgements granted them, a whole Sea of examples woulde present themselves. 16 Alexanders, Ccesars, Scipios, all favorers of Poets. Lelius, called the Romane Socrates, himselfe a Poet : so as part of Heautontimorumenon in Terence, was sup- posed to be made by him. And even the Greek Socrates, whom Apollo confirmed to be the onely wise man, is sayde to have spent part of his old tyme in putting Esops fables into verses. And therefore, full evill should it become his scholler Plato to put such words in his Maisters mouth against Poets. But what need more? Aristotle writes the Arte of Poesie : and why if it should not be written? Plutarch teacheth the use to be gathered of them, and how if they should not be read ? And who reades Plutarchs eyther historic or philosophy, shall finde hee trymmeth both theyr gar- ments with gards* of Poesie. But I list not to defend Poesie with the helpe of her underling, Historiography. Let it suflfise that it is a fit soyle for prayse to dwell upon : and what dispraise may set upon it, is eyther easily over-come, or transformed into just commendation. So that, sith the excellencies of it may be so easily, and so justly confirmed, and the low-creeping objections, soone trodden downe ; it not being an Art of lyes, but of true doctrine : not of effeminatenes, but of notable stirring of courage : not of abusing mans witte, but of strengthning mans wit : not banished, but honored by Plato : let us rather plant more Laurels, 16 Construction confused by omission of antecedent of -who (to those) and subject of have been (that). Elizabethan, and even later, writers, played sad havoc with relative constructions. * facings or trimmings. 36 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. for to engarland our Poets heads, (which honor of beeing laureat, as besides them, onely tryumphant Captaines weare, is a sufficient authority to shewe the price they ought to be had in,) then suffer the ill-favouring breath of such wrong-speakers once to blowe upon the cleere springs of Poesie. But sith I have runne so long a careere in this matter, me thinks, before I give my penne a fulle stop, it shalbe but a little more lost time to inquire why England (the Mother of excellent mindes,) should bee growne so hard a step-mother to Poets, who certainly in wit ought to passe all other : sith all onely proceedeth from their wit, being indeede makers cf themselves, not takers of others. How can I but exclaime, Mtisa, mihi causas memora, quo numine Itzso. 11 Sweete Poesie, that hath aunciently had Kings, Emperors, Sena- tors, great Captaines, such as besides a thousand others, David, Adrian, Sophocles, Germanicus, not onely to favour poets, but to be Poets. And of our neerer times, can present for her Patrons, a Robert, king of Sicil, the great king Francis of France, King James of Scotland. Such Cardinals as JBembus, and Bibiena. Such famous Preachers and Teachers, as Beza and Melancthon. So learned Philosophers, as Fracas torius and Scaliger. So great Orators, as Pontanus and Muretus. So piercing wits, as George Buchanan. So grave Counsellors, as besides many, but before all, that Hospital! Q{ Fraunce : then whom, (I thinke) that Realme never brought forth a more accomplished judgement, more firmely builded upon vertue. I say these, with numbers of others, not onely to read others Poesies, but to poetise for others reading, that Poesie thus embraced in all other places, should onely finde in our time a hard welcome in England, I thinke the very earth lamenteth it, and therefore decketh our Soyle with fewer Laurels then it was accustomed. For heertofore, Poets have in England also florished. And which is to be noted, even in those times 17 O Muse, tell me the causes by -what offended deity, etc. VIRGIL, ^Eneid, 1.8. AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 37 when the trumpet of Mars did sounde loudest. And now that an over-faint quietnes should seeme to strew the house for Poets, they are almost in as good reputation as the Mountibancks at Venice. Truly even that, as of the one side it giveth great praise to Poesie, which like Venus, (but to better purpose) hath rather be troubled in the net with Mars, then enjoy the homelie quiet of Vulcan : so serves it for a peece of a reason, why they are lesse gratefull to idle England, which nowe can scarce endure the payne of a pen. Upon this necessarily followeth that base men with servile wits undertake it : who think it inough, if they can be re- warded of the Printer. And so as Epaminondas is sayd, with the honor of his vertue, to have made an office, by his exercising it, which before was contemptible, to become highly respected : so these, no more but setting their names to it, by their owne disgrace- fulnes, disgrace the most gracefull Poesie. For now, . . . with- out any commission, they doe poste over the banckes of Helicon tyll they make the readers more weary than Poste-horses : while in the mean tyme, they Queis meliore Into finxit prtzcordia Titan?-* are better content to suppresse the outflowing 19 of their wit, then by publishing them to bee accounted Knights of the same order. But I, that before ever I durst aspire unto the dignitie, am ad- mitted into the company of the Paper-blurers, doe finde the very true cause of our wanting estimation, is want of desert : taking upon us to be Poets in despight of Pallas. Nowe, wherein we want desert, were a thanke-worthy labour to expresse : but if I knew, I should have mended my selfe. But I, as I never desired the title, so. have I neglected the meanes to come by it. Onely over- mastered by some thoughts, I yeelded an inckie tribute unto them. Mary, they that delight in Poesie it selfe, should seeke to knowe what they doe, and how they doe ; and especially looke them- selves in an unflattering Glasse of reason, if they bee inclinable 18 Whose hearts Titan has formed out of better clay. JUVENAL, XIV. 34. 19 outflowings? 38 SfJi PHILIP SIDNEY. unto it. For Poesie must not be drawne by the eares, it must bee gently led, or rather it must lead. Which was partly the cause that made the auncient learned affirme it was a divine gift, and no humaine skill : sith all other knowledges lie ready for any that hath strength of witte : A Poet, no industrie can make, if his owne Genius bee not carried unto it : and therefore is it an old Proverbe, Orator fit ; Poeta nascitur Yet confesse I alwayes that as the firtilest ground must bee manured, so must the highest flying wit have a Dedalus to guide him. That Dedalus, they say, both in this, and in other, hath three wings, to beare it selfe up into the ayre of due commendation : that is, Arte, Imitation, and Exercise. But these, neyther artificiall rules, nor imitative patternes, we much cumber our selves withall. Exercise indeede wee doe, but that very fore-backwardly : for where we should exercise to know, wee exercise as having knowne : and so is oure braine delivered of much matter, which never was begotten by knowledge. For, there being two principal parts, matter to be expressed by wordes, and words to expresse the matter, in neyther wee use Arte, or Imitation, rightly. Our matter is Quodlibit- 1 indeed, though wrongly perfourming Ovids verse. {Quicquid conabar dicer e versus erit \_erat?~\ :) 2 ' 2 never marshalling it into an assured rancke, that almost the read- ers cannot tell where to finde themselves. Chaucer undoubtedly did excellently in hys Troylus and Cres- seid ; of whom truly I know not whether to mervaile more, either that he in that mistie time could see so clearely, or that wee in this cleare age walke so stumblingly after him. Yet had he great wants, fitte to be forgiven, in so reverent antiquity. I account the Mirrour of* Magistrates meetely furnished of beautiful parts ; and in the Earl of Surries Liricks many things tasting of a noble 21 An orator is made ; a poet is born. 21 anything you please. 22 Whatever I attempted to utter will be \was~\ verse. After Ovid, Tristia, IV. 10. 20 : Et quod tentabam dicere versus erat, And what I tried to say was verse. * for. AN APOLOGIE FOR POET R IE. 39 birth, and worthy of a noble minde. The Sheapheards Kalender hath much Poetrie in his Eglogues : indeede worthy the reading if I be not deceived. That same framing of his stile to an old rustick language, I dare not allowe, sith neyther Theocritus in Greeke, Virgill in Latine, nor Sanazar in Italian, did affect it. Besides these, doe I not remember to have scene but fewe, (to speake boldely) printed, that have poeticall sinnewes in them : for proofe whereof, let but most of the verses bee put in Prose, and then aske the meaning ; and it will be found that one verse did but beget another, without ordering at the first what should be at the last : which becomes a confused masse of words, with a tingling sound of ryme, barely accompanied with reason. Our Tragedies and Comedies, (not without cause cried out against,) observing rules, neyther of honest civilitie, nor of skilfull Poetrie, excepting Gorboduck, (againe, I say, of those that I have scene), which notwithstanding, as it is full of stately speeches, and well sounding Phrases, clyming to the height of Seneca his stile, and as full of notable moralitie, which it doth most delightfully teach, and so obtayne the very end of Poesie : yet in troth it is very defectious in the circumstaunces, 23 which greeveth mee, because it might not remaine as an exact model of all Tragedies. For it is faulty both in place, and time, the two necessary companions of all corporall actions. For where the stage should alwaies repre- sent but one place, and the uttermost time presupposed in it should be, both by Aristotles precept and common reason, but one day : there is both many dayes, and many places, inartificially imagined. But if it be so in Gorboduck, how much more in al the rest? where you shall have Asia of the one side, and Affrick of the other, and so many other under-kingdoms, that the Player, when he commeth in, must ever begin with telling you where he is : or els the tale wil not be conceived. Now ye shal have three Ladies walke to gather flowers, and then we must beleeve the stage to be a Garden. By and by we heare newes of shipwracke 28 defective in particulars. 40 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. in the same place, and then wee are to blame if we accept it not for a rock. Upon the backe of that, comes out a hidious Monster, with fire and smoke, and then the miserable beholders are bounde to take it for a Cave. While in the mean-time two Armies flye in, represented with foure swords and bucklers, and then what harde heart will not receive it for a pitched fielde ? Now, of time they are much more liberall, . . . which how absurd it is in sence, even sence may imagine, and Arte hath taught, and all auncient ex- amples justified : and at this day, the ordinary Players in Italic wil not erre in. Yet wil some bring in an example of Eunuchus in Terence, that containeth matter of two dayes, yet far short of twenty yeeres. True it is, and so was it to be playd in two daies, and so fitted to the time it set forth. And though Plautus hath in one place done amisse, let us hit with him, and not misse with him. But they wil say, how then shal we set forth a story, which containeth both many places, and many times ? And doe they not knowe that a Tragedie is tied to the lawes of Poesie, and not of Historic? not bound to follow the storie, but having liberty, either to faine a quite newe matter, or to frame the historic to the most tragicall conveniencie. Againe, many things may be told, which cannot be shewed, if they knowe the difference betwixt reporting and representing. As for example, I may speake, (though I am heere) of Peru, and in speech, digresse from that, to the description of Calicut : but in action, I cannot represent it without Pacolets horse 24 : and so was the manner the Auncients tooke, by some Nunciusf' to recount thinges done in former time, or other place. Lastly, if they wil represent an history, they must not (as Horace saith) beginne Ab ovo : 2(i but they must come to the prin- cipall poynt of that one action, which they wil represent. By example this wil be best expressed. I have a story of young Poli- dorus, delivered for safeties sake, with great riches, by his Father 24 See Wheeler's Vocabulary, in Appendix to Webster's Dictionary. 25 messenger. . K From the egg. AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 41 Priamus to Polimnestor king of Thrace, in the Troyan war time : Hee after some yeeres, hearing the overthrowe of Priamus, for to make the treasure his owne, murthereth the child : the body of the child is taken tip. Hecuba, shee the same day, findeth a slight to bee revenged most cruelly of the Tyrant : where nowe would one of our Tragedy writers begin, but with the delivery of the childe? Then should he sayle over into Thrace, and so spend I know not how many yeeres, and travaile numbers of places. But where dooth Euripides ? Even with the finding of the body, leaving the rest to be tolde by the spirit of Polidorus, This need no further to be inlarged, the dullest wit may conceive it. But besides these grosse absurdities, how all theyr Playes be neither right Tragedies, nor right Comedies : mingling Kings and Clownes, not because the matter so carrieth it : but thrust in Clownes by head and shoulders, to play a part in majesticall matters, with neither decencie nor discretion. So as neither the admiration and commiseration, nor the right sportfulnes, is by their mungrell Tragy-comedie obtained. I know Apuleius did some-what so, but that is a thing recounted with space of time, not represented in one moment : and I knowe the Auncients have one or two examples of Tragy-comedies, as Plautus hath Amphitrio : but if we marke them well, we shall find that they never, or very daintily, match Horn-pypes and Funeralls. So falleth it out, that having indeed no right Comedy, in that comicall part of our Tragedy, we have nothing but scurrility, unwoorthy of any chaste eares : or some extreame shew of doltishnes, indeed fit to lift up a loude laughter, and nothing els : where the whole tract of a Comedy shoulde be full of delight, as the Tragedy shoulde be still maintained in a well raised admiration. But our Comedians thinke there is no delight without laughter, which is very wrong, for though laughter may come with delight, yet commeth it not of delight : as though delight should be the cause of laughter, but well may one thing breed both together : nay, rather in themselves, they have as it were, a kind of contrarietie : for delight we scarcely doe, but in things that have a conveniencie to our selves, or to the generall 42 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. nature : laughter almost ever commeth of things most dispropor- tioned to our selves and nature. Delight hath a joy in it, either permanent, or present. Laughter hath onely a scornful tickling. For example, we are ravished with delight to see a faire woman, and yet are far from being moved to laughter. We laugh at de- formed creatures, wherein certainely we cannot delight. We delight in good chaunces, we laugh at mischaunces ; we delight to heare the happines of our friends, or Country ; at which he were worthy to be laughed at that would laugh ; wee shall con- trarily laugh sometimes, to finde a matter quite mistaken, and goe downe the hill agaynst the byas, in the mouth of some such men as for the respect of them, one shalbe hartely sorry, yet he can- not chuse but laugh ; and so is rather pained, then delighted with laughter. Yet deny I not but that they may goe well together, for as in Alexanders picture well set out, wee delight without laughter, and in twenty mad Anticks we laugh without delight : so in Hercules, painted with his great beard, and furious countenance, in womans attire, spinning at Omphales commaundement, it breedeth both delight and laughter. For the representing of so strange a power in love, procureth delight : and the scornefulnes of the action, stirreth laughter. But I speake to this purpose, that all the end of the comicall part bee not upon such scornefull matters as stirreth laughter onely : but mixt with it, that delight- ful teaching which is the end of Poesie. And the great fault even in that point of laughter, and forbidden plainely by Aristotle, is that they styrre laughter in sinfull things ; which are rather exe- crable then ridiculous : or in miserable, which are rather to be pittied then scorned. For what is it to make folkes gape at a wretched Begger, or a beggerly Clowne? or against lawe of hos- pitality, to jest at straungers, because they speake not English so well as wee doe ? what do we learne, sith it is certaine {Nil habet infcelix paupertas durius in se, Quam quod ridicules homines facit.y*' 1 27 Unhappy poverty has in itself nothing more disagreeable than that it makes men ridiculous, JUVENAL, III. 152-3. AN A POLO G IE FOR POETRIE. 43 But rather a busy loving Courtier, a hartles threatening Thraso. A selfe-wise-seeming schoolemaster. A awry-transformed Travel- ler. These, if we sawe walke in stage names, which wee play naturally, therein were delightfull laughter, and teaching delight- fulnes : as in the other, the Tragedies of Buchanan doe justly bring forth a divine admiration. But I have lavished out too many wordes of this play matter. I doe it because as they are excelling parts of Poesie, so is there none so much used in Eng- land, and none can be more pittifully abused. Which like an unmannerly Daughter, shewing a bad education, causeth her mother Poesies honesty to bee called in question. Other sorts of Poetry almost have we none, but that Lyricall kind of Songs and Sonnets : which, Lord, if he gave us so goode mindes, how well it might be imployed, and with howe heavenly fruite, both private and publique, in singing the prayses of the immortall beauty : the immortall goodnes of that God who gyveth us hands to write, and wits to conceive, of which we might well want words, but never matter, of which we could turne our eies to nothing, but we should ever have new budding occasions. But truely many of such writings as come under the banner of unresistable love, if I were a Mistres, would never perswade mee they were in love : so coldely they apply fiery speeches, as men that had rather red Lovers writings ; and so caught up certaine swelling phrases, which hang together, like a man which once tolde mee, the winde was at North, West, and by South, because he would be sure to name windes enowe : then that in truth they feele those passions, which easily (as I think) may be bewrayed, by that same forciblenes, or Energia, (as the Greekes cal it) of the writer. But let this bee a sufficient, though short note, that wee misse the right use of the materiall point of Poesie. Now, for the out-side of it, which is words, or (as I may tearme it) Diction, it is even well worse. So is that honny-flowing Matron Eloquence, apparelled, or rather disguised, in a Curtizan-like painted affectation : one time with so farre fette M words they may seeme 28 fetched. 44 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. Monsters : but must seeme straungers to any poore English man. Another tyme, with coursing of a Letter, as if they were bound to followe the method of a Dictionary : an other tyme, with figures and flowers, extreamelie winter-starved. But I would this fault were only peculiar to Versifiers, and had not as large possession among Prose-printers ; and, (which is to be mervailed) among many Schollers ; and, (which is to be pittied) among some Preachers. Truly I could wish, if at least I might be so bold, to wish in a thing beyond the reach of my capacity, the diligent imitators of Titllie, and Demosthenes, (most worthy to be imitated) did not so much keep Nizolian Paper-bookes of their figures and phrases, as by attentive translation (as it were) devoure them whole, and make them wholly theirs : For nowe they cast Sugar and Spice upon every dish that is served to the table ; Like those Indians, not content to weare eare-rings at the fit and naturall place of the eares, but they will thrust Jewels through their nose, and lippes, because they will be sure to be fine. Tullie, when he was to drive out Cateline, as it were with a Thunder-bolt of eloquence, often used that figure of repitition, Vivit? vivit? into Senatum venit &C. 29 Indeed, inflamed with a well-grounded rage, hee would have his words (as it were) double out of his mouth : and so doe that artificially, which we see men doe in choller naturally. And wee, having noted the grace of those words, hale ^ them in sometime to a familier Epistle, when it were to too much choller to be chollerick. Now for similitudes, in certaine printed discourses, I thinke all Herbarists, all stories of Beasts, Foules, and Fishes, are rifled up, that they come in multi- tudes to waite upon any of our conceits ; which certainly is as absurd a surfet to the eares as is possible : for the force of a similitude, not being to proove anything to a contrary Disputer, but onely to explane to a willing hearer, when that is done, the rest is a most tedious prattling : rather over-swaying the memory from the purpose whereto they were applyed, then any whit in- 29 Does he live ? does he live ? yea, he comes to the Senate, etc. CiCERC, Catiline, I. I, 2. 30 haul, drag. AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 45 forming the judgement, already eyther satis-fied, or by similitudes not to be satis-fied. For my part, I doe not doubt, when Antonius and Crassus, the great forefathers of Cicero in eloquence, the one (as Cicero testifieth of them) pretended not to know Arte, the other, not to set by it : because with a playne sensiblenes, they might win credit of popular eares ; which credit is the nearest step to perswasion : which perswasion is the chiefe marke of Oratory ; I doe not doubt (I say) but that they used these tracks very sparingly, which who doth generally use, any man may see doth daunce to his owne musick : and so be noted by the audi- ence, more careful to speake curiously, then to speake truly. Undoubtedly, (at least to my opinion undoubtedly,) I have found in divers smally learned Courtiers a more sounde stile, then in some professors of learning : of which I can gesse no other cause, but that the Courtier following that which by practise hee findeth fittest to nature, therein, (though he know it not,) doth according to Art, though not by Art : where the other, using Art to shew Art, and not to hide Art, (as in these cases he should doe) flyeth from nature, and indeede abuseth Art. But what? me thinkes I deserve to be pounded for straying from Poetrie to Oratorie : but both have such an affinity in this wordish consideration, that I thinke this digression will make my meaning receive the fuller understanding : which is not to take upon me to teach Poets howe they should doe, but onely finding my selfe sick among the rest, to shewe some one or two spots of the common infection, growne among the most part of Writers : that acknowledging our selves somewhat awry, we may bend to the right use both of matter and manner ; whereto our language gyveth us great occasion, beeing indeed capable of any excellent exercising of it. I know, some will say it is a mingled language. And why not so much the better, taking the best of both the other? Another will say it wanteth Grammer. Nay truly, it hath that prayse, that it wanteth not Grammer : for Grammer it might have, but it needes it not ; beeing so easie of it selfe, and so voyd of those cumbersome differences of Cases, Genders, 46 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. Moodes, and Tenses, which I thinke was a peece of the Tower of Babilons curse, that a man should be put to schoole to learne his mother-tongue. But for the uttering sweetly and properly the conceits of the minde, which is the end of speech, that hath it equally with any other tongue in the world : and is particulerly happy in compositions of two or three words together, neere the Greeke, far beyond the Latine : which is one of the greatest beauties can be in a language. Now, of versifying there are two sorts, the one Auncient, the other Moderne : the Auncient marked the quantitie of each silable, and according to that framed his verse : the Moderne, observing onely number, (with some regarde of the accent,) the chiefe life of it standeth in that lyke sounding of the words, which wee call Ryme. Whether of these be the most excellent, would beare many speeches. The Auncient, (no doubt) more fit for Musick, both words and tune observing quantity, and more fit lively to expresse divers passions by the low and lofty sounde of the well- weyed silable. The latter likewise, with hys Ryme, striketh a certaine musick to the eare : and in fine, sith it dooth delight, though by another way, it obtaines the same purpose : there beeing in eyther sweetnes, and wanting in neither majestic. Truely the English, before any other vulgar language I know, is fit for both sorts : for, for the Ancient, the Italian is so full of Vowels that it must ever be cumbred with Elisions. The Dutch, so of the other side with Consonants, that they cannot yeeld the sweet slyding fit for a Verse. The French, in his whole language, hath not one word that hath his accent in the last silable saving two, called Antepenultima, and little more hath the Spanish : and there- fore very gracelesly may they use Dactiles. The English is sub- ject to none of these defects. Nowe, for the ryme, though wee doe not observe quantitie, yet wee observe the accent very precisely : which other languages eyther cannot doe, or will not doe so absolutely. That Ccesura, or breathing place in the middest of the verse, neither Italian nor Spanish have, the French, and we, never almost fayle of. Lastly, AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 47 even the very ryme it selfe, the Italian cannot put in the last silable, by the French named the Masculine ryme, but still in the next to the last, which the French call the Female ; or the next before that, which the Italians terme Sdrucciola? 1 The example of the former is Buono, Suono, of the Sdrucciola, Femina, Semina. The French, of the other side, hath both the Male, as Bon, Son, and the Female, as Plaise, Taise. But the Sdrucciola, hee hath not : where the English hath all three, as Due, True, Father, Rather, Motion, Potion ; 32 with much more which might be sayd, but that I finde already the triflingnes of this discourse is much too much enlarged. So that sith the ever-praise-worthy Poesie is full of vertue-breeding delightfulnes, and voyde of no gyfte that ought to be in the noble name of learning : sith the blames laid against it are either false, or feeble : sith the cause why it is not esteemed in Englande, is the fault of Poet-apes, not Poets : sith lastly, our tongue is most fit to honor Poesie, and to bee honored by Poesie, I conjure you all, that have had the evill-lucke to reade this incke-wasting toy of mine, even in the name of the nyne Muses, no more to scorn the sacred misteries of Poesie : no more to laugh at the name of Poets, as though they were next inheritours to Fooles : no more to jest at the reverent title of a Rymer : but to beleeve with Aristotle, that they were the auncient Treasurers of the Graecians Divinity. To beleeve with Bcmbus, that they were first bringers in of all civilitie. To beleeve with Scaliger, that no Philosophers precepts can sooner make you an honest man then the reading of Virgil!. To beleeve with Clauserus, the Translator of Cornutus, that it pleased the heavenly Deitie, by Hesiod and Homer, under the vayle of fables, to give us all knowledge, Logick, Rethorick, Philosophy, naturall, and morall ; and Quid non?^ To beleeve with me, that there are many misteries contained in Poetrie, which of purpose were written darkely, least by prophane wits it should bee abused. To beleeve with Landin, that they are so beloved of the Gods that 81 gliding. 82 Pronounced as trisyllables, as in Shakspere. M What not? 48 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. whatsoever they write proceeds of a divine fury. Lastly, to beleeve themselves, when they tell you they will make you im- mortall by their verses. Thus doing, your name shall flourish in the Printers shoppes ; thus doing, you shall bee of kinne to many a poeticall Preface ; thus doing, you shall bee most fayre, most ritch, most wise, most all, you shall dwell upon Superlatives. Thus dooing, though you be Libertino patre nafus, 84 you shall suddenly grow Hercules \_Her- culis ? J proles : 35 Si quid mea carmina possunt. 36 Thus doing, your soule shal be placed with Dantes Beatrix, or Virgils Anchises. But if, (fie of such a but) you be borne so neere the dull making Cataphract of Nilus, that you cannot heare trie Plannet-like Musick of Poetrie, if you have so earth-creeping a mind, that it cannot lift it selfe up to looke to the sky of Poetry : or rather, by a certaine rusticall disdaine, will become such a Mome, 37 as to be a Momus of Poetry : then, though I will not wish unto you the Asses eares of Midas, nor to bee driven by a Poets verses, (as Bubonax was) to hang himselfe, nor to be rimed to death, as is said to be doone in Ireland : " yet thus much curse I must send you, in the behalfe of all Poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favour, for lacking skill of a Sonnet : and when you die, your memory die from the earth, for want of an Epitaph. 84 Born of a freedman father. HORACE, Satires, I. 6, 45. 85 The offspring of Hercules. 33 If my songs avail. VIRGIL, sEneid, IX. 446. 37 a dull, stupid person. 88 Cf. Cook's edition of Sidney's Defense of Poesy, p. 133. 89 Cf. As You Like It, III. 2, 188, and note in Furness'.s Variorum edition, P- 155- III. RICHARD HOOKER. (1553-41600-) OF THE LAIVS OF ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. {BOOK /.) [Written about 1590.] X. That which hitherto we have set down is (I hope) sufficient to shew their brutishness, which imagine that religion How reason doth lead men and virtue are only as men will account of them ; unto the making that we m i g ht make as much account, if we would, of human laws whereby politic of the contrary, without any harm unto ourselves, societies are gov- an( j t h at j n na t u re they are as indifferent one as the agreement about other. We see then how nature itself teacheth laws laws whereby the an( j statutes to live by. The laws which have been communionof hitherto mentioned do bind men absolutely even as independent so- they are men, although they have never any settled cieties standeth. rut.- i fellowship, never any solemn agreement amongst themselves what to do or not to do. But forasmuch as we are not by ourselves sufficient to furnish ourselves with competent store of things needful for such a life as our nature doth desire, a life fit for the dignity of man ; therefore to supply those defects and imperfections which are in us living single and solely by our- selves, we are naturally induced to seek communion and fellowship with others. This was the cause of men's uniting themselves at the first in politic l societies ; which societies could not be without government, nor government without a distinct kind of law from that which hath been already declared. Two foundations there 1 political. 49 50 RICHARD HOOKER. are which bear up public societies ; the one, a natural inclination, whereby all men desire sociable life and fellowship ; the other, an order expressly or secretly agreed upon touching the manner of their union in living together. The latter is that which we call the law of a commonweal, the very soul of a politic body, the parts whereof are by law animated, held together, and set on work in such actions as the common good requireth. Laws politic, or- dained for external order and regiment 2 amongst men, are never framed as they should be, unless presuming the will of man to be inwardly obstinate, rebellious, and averse from all obedience unto the sacred laws of his nature ; in a word, unless presuming man to be in regard of his depraved mind little better than a wild beast, they do accordingly provide notwithstanding so to frame his out- ward actions, that they be no hindrance unto the common good for which societies are instituted : unless they do this, they are not perfect. It resteth therefore that we consider how nature findeth out such laws of government as serve to direct even nature depraved to a right end. [2] All men desire to lead in this world a happy life. That life is led most happily, wherein all virtue is exercised without impediment or let. The Apostle, in exhorting men to content- ment although they have in this world no more than very bare food and raiment, giveth us thereby to understand that those are even the lowest of things necessary ; that if we should be stripped of all those things without which we might possibly be, yet these must be left ; that destitution in these is such an impediment, as till it be removed suffereth not the mind of man to admit any other care. For this cause, first God assigned Adam maintenance of life, and then appointed him a law to observe. For this cause, after men began to grow to a, number, the first thing we read they gave themselves unto was the tilling of the earth and the feeding of cattle. Having by this mean whereon to live, the principal actions of their life afterward are noted by the exercise of their 2 government. OF THE LAWS OF ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. 51 religion. True it is, that the kingdom of God must be the first thing in our purposes and desires. But inasmuch as righteous life presupposeth life ; inasmuch as to live virtuously it is impos- sible except we live ; therefore the first impediment, which natu- rally we endeavour to remove, is penury and want of things without which we cannot live. Unto life many implements 3 are necessary ; moe, if we seek (as all men naturally do) such a life as hath in it joy, comfort, delight, and pleasure. To this end we see how quickly sundry arts mechanical were found out, in the very prime of the world. As things of greatest necessity are always first pro- vided for, so things of greatest dignity are most accounted of by all such as judge rightly. Although therefore riches be a thing which every man wisheth, yet no man of judgment can esteem it better to be rich, than wise, virtuous, and religious. If we be both or either of these, it is not because we are so born. For into the world we come as empty of the one as of the other, as naked in mind as we are in body. Both which necessities of man had at the first no other helps and supplies than only domestical ; such as that which the Prophet implieth, saying, Can a mother forget //<-; child?* such as that which the Apostle mentioneth, saying, He that care th not for his own is worse than an Infidel ;* such as that concerning Abraham, Abraham will command his sons and his household after him, that they keep the wav of the Lord. 6 [3] But neither that which we learn of ourselves nor that which others teach us can prevail, where wickedness and malice have taken deep root. If therefore when there was but as yet one only family in the world, no means of instruction human or divine could prevent effusion of blood ; how could it be chosen but that when families were multiplied and increased upon earth, after separation each providing for itself, envy, strife, contention, and violence must grow amongst them? For hath not nature fur- nished man with wit and valour, as it were with armour, which may be used as well unto extreme evil as good ? Yea, were they 8 accessories. * Isa. xlix. 15. 5 i Tim. v. 8. 6 Gen. xviii. 19. 52 RICHARD HOOKER. not used by the rest of the world unto evil ; unto the contrary only by Seth, Enoch, and those few the rest in that line ? We all make complaint of the iniquity of our times : not unjustly ; for the days are evil. But compare them with those times wherein there were no civil societies, with those times wherein there was as yet no manner of public regiment established, with those times wherein there were not above eight persons righteous living upon the face of the earth ; and we have surely good cause to think that God hath blessed us exceedingly, and hath made us behold most happy days. [4] To take away all such mutual grievances, injuries, and wrongs, there was no way but only by growing unto composition and agreement amongst themselves, by ordaining some kind of government public, and by yielding themselves subject thereunto ; that unto whom they granted authority to rule and govern, by them the peace, tranquillity, and happy estate of the rest might be procured. Men always knew that when force and injury was 7 offered they might be defenders of themselves ; they knew that howsoever men may seek their own commodity, 8 yet if this were done with injury unto others it was not to be suffered, but by all men and by all good means to be withstood ; finally they knew that no man might in reason take upon him to determine his own right, and according to his own determination proceed in mainte- nance thereof, inasmuch as every man is towards himself and them whom he greatly affecteth partial ; and therefore that strifes and troubles would be endless, except they gave their common consent all to be ordered by some whom they should agree upon : without which consent there was no reason that one man should take upon him to be lord or judge over another ; because, although there be according to the opinion of some very great and judicious men a kind of natural right in the noble, wise, and virtuous, to govern them which are of servile disposition ; nevertheless for manifestation of this their right, and men's more peaceable con- 7 Subjects connected by and with singular verb, as often. 8 advantage. OF THE LAWS OF ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. 53 tention on both sides, the assent of them who are. to be governed seemeth necessary. To fathers within their private families nature hath given a supreme power ; for which cause we see throughout the world even from the foundation thereof, all men have ever been taken as lords and lawful kings in their own houses. Howbeit over a whole grand multitude having no such dependency upon any one, and consisting of so many families as every politic society in the world doth, impossible it is that any should have complete lawful power, but by consent of men, or immediate appointment of God ; because not having the natural superiority of fathers, their power must needs be either usurped, and then unlawful ; or, if lawful, then either granted or consented unto by them over whom they exercise the same, or else given extraordinarily from God, unto whom all the world is subject. It is no improbable opinion there- fore which the Arch-philosopher 9 was of, that as the chiefest person in every household was always as it were a king, so when numbers of households joined themselves in civil society together, kings were the first kind of governors amongst them. Which is also (as it seemeth) the reason why the name of Father continued still in them, who of fathers were made rulers ; as also the ancient custom of governors to do as Melchisedec, and being kings to exercise the office of priests, which fathers did at the first, grew perhaps by the same occasion. Howbeit not this 10 the only kind of regiment that hath been received in the world. The inconveniences of one kind have caused sundry other to be devised. So that in a word all public regiment of what kind soever seemeth evidently to have risen from deliberate advice, consultation, and composition between men, judging it convenient and behoveful ; there being no impossibility in nature c6nsidered by itself, but that men might have lived with- out any public regiment. Howbeit, the corruption of our nature being presupposed, we may not deny but that the law of nature 9 Aristotle. 10 Substantive verb omitted. 54 RICHARD HOOKER. doth now require of necessity some kind of regiment ; so that to bring things unto the first course they were in, and utterly to take away all kind of public government in the world, were apparently to overturn the whole world. [5] The case of man's nature standing therefore as it doth, some kind of regiment the law of nature doth require ; yet the kinds thereof being many, nature tieth not to any one, but leaveth the choice as a thing arbitrary. At the first when some certain kind of regiment was once approved, it may be that nothing was then further thought upon for the manner of governing, but all permitted unto their wisdom and discretion which were to rule ; till by experience they found this for all parts very inconvenient, so as the thing which they had devised for a remedy did indeed but increase the sore which it should have cured. They saw that to live by one man's will became the cause of all men's misery. This constrained them to come unto laws, wherein all men might see their duties beforehand, and know the penalties of transgress- ing them. If things be simply good or evil, and withal universally so acknowledged, there needs no new law to be made for such things. The first kind therefore of things appointed by laws human containeth whatsoever being in itself naturally good or evil, is notwithstanding more secret than that it can be discerned by every man's present conceit, without some deeper discourse and judgment. In which discourse because there is difficulty and possibility many ways to err, unless such things were set down by laws, many would be ignorant of their duties which now are not, and many that know what they should do would nevertheless dis- semble it, and to excuse themselves pretend ignorance and sim- plicity, which now they cannot. [6] And because the greatest part of men are such as prefer their own private good before all things, even that good which is sensual before whatsoever is most divine ; and for that the labour of doing good, together with the pleasure arising from the contrary, doth make men for the most part slower to the one and proner to the other, than that duty prescribed them by law OF THE LAWS OF ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. 55 can prevail sufficiently with them : therefore unto laws that men do make for the benefit of men it hath seemed always needful to add rewards, which may more allure unto good than any hardness deterreth from it, and punishments, which may more deter from evil, than any sweetness thereto allureth. Wherein as the generality n is natural, Virtue rewardable and vice pun- ishable ; so the particular determination of the reward or pun- ishment belongeth unto them by whom laws are made. Theft is naturally punishable, but the kind of punishment is positive, and such lawful as men shall think with discretion convenient by law to appoint. [7] In laws, that which is natural bindeth universally, that which is positive not so. To let go those kind 12 of positive laws which men impose upon themselves, as by vow unto God, contract with men, or such like ; somewhat it will make unto our purpose, a little more fully to consider what things are incident into the making of the positive laws for the government of them that live united in public society. Laws do not only teach what is good, but they enjoin it, they have in them a certain constraining force. And to constrain men unto anything inconvenient doth seem unreasonable. Most requisite therefore it is that to devise laws which all men shall be forced to obey, none but wise men be ad- mitted. Laws are matters of principal consequence ; men of common capacity and but ordinary judgment are not able (for how should they ?) to discern what things are fittest for each kind and state of regiment. We cannot be ignorant how much our obedience unto laws dependeth upon this point. Let a man, though never so justly, oppose himself unto them that are dis- ordered in their ways, and what one amongst them commonly doth not stomach at such contradiction, storm at reproof, and hate such as would reform them? Notwithstanding even they which brook it worst that men should tell them of their duties, when they are told the same by a law, think very well and reason- 11 general proposition. ia Common in Elizabethan English. 56 RICHARD HOOKER. ably of it. For why? They presume that the law doth speak with all indifferency ; that the law hath no side-respect to their persons ; that the law is as it were an oracle proceeded from wisdom and understanding. [8] Howbeit laws do not take their constraining force from the quality of such as devise them, but from that power which doth give them the strength of laws. That which we spake before con- cerning the power of government must here be applied unto the power of making laws whereby to govern ; which power God hath over all : and by the natural law, whereunto he hath made all subject, the lawful power of making laws to command whole politic societies of men belongeth so properly unto the same entire socie- ties, that for any prince or potentate of what kind soever upon earth to exercise the same of himself, and not either by express commission immediately and personally received from God, or else by authority derived at the first from their consent upon whose persons they impose laws, it is no better than mere tyranny. Laws they are not therefore which public approbation hath not made so. But approbation not only they give who personally declare their assent by voice, sign, or act, but also when others do it in their names by right originally at the least derived from them. As in parliaments, councils, and the like assemblies, although we be not personally ourselves present, notwithstanding our assent is, by reason of others, agents there in our behalf. And what we do by others, no reason w but that it should stand as our deed, no less effectually to bind us than if ourselves had done it in person. In many things assent is given, they that give it not imagining they do so, because the manner of their assenting is not apparent. As for example, when an absolute monarch com- mandeth his subjects that which seemeth good in his own dis- cretion, hath not his edict the force of a law whether they approve or dislike it ? Again, that which hath been received long sithence M 18 Substantive verb omitted. M since. OF THE LAWS OF ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. 57 and is by custom now established, we keep as a law which we may not transgress ; yet what consent was ever thereunto sought or required at our hands ? Of this point therefore we are to note, that sith u men naturally have no full and perfect power to command whole politic multi- tudes of men, therefore utterly without our consent we could in such sort be at no man's commandment living. And to be com- manded we do consent, when that society whereof we are part hath at any time before consented, without revoking the same after by the like universal agreement. Wherefore as any man's deed past is good as long as himself continueth ; so the act of a public society of men done five hundred years sithence standeth as theirs who presently are of the same societies, because corpora- tions are immortal ; we were then alive in our predecessors, and they in their successors do live still. Laws therefore human, of what kind soever, are available by consent. [9] If here it be demanded how it cometh to pass that, this being common unto all laws which are made, there should be found even in good laws so great a variety as there is ; we must note the reason hereof to be the sundry particular ends, where- unto the different disposition of that subject or matter, for which laws are provided, causeth them to have especial respect in making laws. A law there is mentioned amongst the Grecians whereof Pittacus is reported to have been the author ; and by that law it was agreed, that he which being overcome with drink did then strike any man, should suffer punishment double as much as if he had done the same being sober. No man could ever have thought this reasonable, that had intended thereby only to punish the injury committed according to the gravity of the fact : for who knoweth not that harm advisedly done is naturally less pardonable, and therefore worthy of the sharper punishment ? But forasmuch as none did so usually this way offend as men in that case, which they wittingly fell into, even because they would be so much the more freely outrageous ; it was for their public good, where such disorder was grown, to frame a positive law for remedy thereof 58 ' RICHARD HOOKER. accordingly. To this appertain those known laws of making laws ; as that law-makers must have an eye to the place where, and to the men amongst whom : that one kind of laws cannot serve for all kinds of regiment : that where the multitude beareth sway, laws that shall tend unto preservation of that state must make common smaller offices to go by lot, for fear of strife and division likely to arise, by reason that, ordinary qualities sufficing for dis- charge of such offices, they could not but by many be desired, and so with danger contended for, and not missed without grudge and discontentment, whereas at an uncertain lot none can find them- selves grieved, on whomsoever it lighteth ; contrariwise the greatest, whereof but few are capable, to pass by popular election, that neither the people may envy such as have those honours, inasmuch as themselves bestow them, and that the chiefest may be kindled with desire to exercise all parts of rare and beneficial virtue, knowing they shall not lose their labour by growing in fame and estimation amongst the people : if the helm of chief government be in the hands of a few of the wealthiest, that then laws providing for continuance thereof must make the punishment of contumely and wrong offered unto any of the common sort sharp and griev- ous, that so the evil may be prevented whereby the rich are most likely to bring themselves into hatred with the people, who are not wont to take so great an offence when they are excluded from honours and offices, as when their persons are contumeliously trodden upon. In other kinds of regiment the like is observed concerning the difference of positive laws, which to be every where the same is impossible and against their nature. [10] Now as the learned in the laws of this land observe that our statutes sometimes are only the affirmation or ratification of that which by common law was held before ; so here it is not to be omitted that generally all laws human, which are made for the ordering of politic societies, be either such as establish some duty whereunto all men by the law of reason did before stand bound ; or else such as make that a duty now which before was none. The one sort we may for distinction's sake call mixedly, and the OF THE LAWS OF ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. 59 other merely human. That which plain or necessary reason bindeth men unto may be in sundry considerations expedient to be ratified by human law. For example, if confusion of blood in marriage, the liberty of having many wives at once, or any other the like corrupt and unreasonable custom doth happen to have prevailed far, and to have gotten the upper hand of right reason with the greatest part, so that no way is left to rectify such foul disorder without prescribing by law the same things which reason neces- sarily doth enforce but is not perceived that so it doth ; or if many be grown unto that which the Apostle did lament in some, con- cerning whom he writeth, saying, that Even what things they naturally knoiu, in those very things as beasts void of reason they corrupted themselves ; 15 or if there be no such special accident, yet forasmuch as the common sort are led by the sway of their sensual desires, and therefore do more shun sin for the sensible evils which follow it amongst men, than for any kind of sentence which reason doth pronounce against it ; this very thing is cause sufficient why dutiqs belonging unto such kind of virtue, albeit the law of reason teach them, should notwithstanding be prescribed even by human law. Which law in this case we term mixed, be- cause the matter whereunto it bindeth is the same which reason necessarily doth require at our hands, and from the law of reason it differeth in the manner of binding only. For whereas men before stood bound in conscience to do as the law of reason teacheth, they are now by virtue of human law become constrain- able, and if they outwardly transgress, punishable. As for laws which are merely human, the matter of them is any thing which reason doth but probably teach to be fit and convenient ; so that till such time as law hath passed amongst men about it, of itself it bindeth no man. One example whereof may be this. Lands are by human law in some places after the owner's decease divided unto all his children, in some all descendeth to the eldest son. If the law of reason did necessarily require but the one of these 16 Jude 10. 60 RICHARD HOOKER. two to be done, they which by law have received the other should be subject to that heavy sentence, which denounceth against all that decree wicked, unjust, and unreasonable things, woe. Whereas now whichsoever be received, there is no law of reason trans- gressed ; because there is probable reason why either of them may be expedient, and for either of them more than probable reason there is not to be found. [u] Laws whether mixedly or merely human are made by politic societies : some, only as those societies are civilly united ; some, as they are spiritually joined and make such a body as. we call the Church. Of laws human in this later kind we are to speak in the third book following. Let it therefore suffice thus far to have touched the force wherewith Almighty God hath graciously endued our nature, and thereby enabled the same to find out both those laws which all men generally are for ever bound to observe, and also such as are most fit for their behoof, who lead their lives in any ordered state of government. [12] Now besides that law which simply concerneth men as men, and that which belongeth unto them as they are men linked with others in some form of politic society, there is a third kind of law which toucheth all such several bodies politic, so far forth as one of them hath public commerce with another. And this third is the law of nations. Between men and beasts there is no possibility of sociable communion ; because the well-spring of that communion is a natural delight which man hath to transfuse from himself unto others, and to receive from others into himself, especially those things wherein the excellency of his kind doth most consist. The chiefest instrument of human communion there- fore is speech, because thereby we impart mutually one to another the conceits of our reasonable understanding. And for that cause seeing beasts are not hereof capable, forasmuch as with them we can use no such conference, they being in degree, although above other creatures on earth to whom nature hath denied sense, yet lower than to be sociable companions of man to whom nature hath given reason ; it is of Adam said that amongst the beasts He found OF THE LAWS OF ECCLESIASTICAL POLITY. 61 not for himself any meet companion Civil society doth more content the nature of man than any private kind of solitary living, because in society this good of mutual participation is so much larger than otherwise. Herewith notwithstanding we are satisfied, but we covet (if it might be) to have a kind of society and fellow- ship even with all mankind. Which thing Socrates intending to signify professed himself a citizen, not of this or that common- wealth, but of the world. And an effect of that very natural desire in us, (a manifest token that we wish after a sort an universal fellowship with all men,) appeareth by the wonderful delight men have, some to visit foreign countries, some to discover nations not heard of in former ages, we all to know the affairs and dealings of other people, yea to be in league of amity with them : and this not only for traffic's sake, or to the end that when many are con- federated each may make the other the more strong, but for such cause also as moved the Queen of Saba to visit Salomon ; 17 and in a word, because nature doth presume that how many men there are in the world, so many Gods as it were there are, or at least- wise such they should be towards men. [13] Touching 18 laws which are to serve men in this behalf; even as those laws of reason, which (man retaining his original integrity) had been sufficient to direct each particular person in all his affairs and duties, are not sufficient but require the access of other laws, now that man and his offspring are grown thus cor- rupt and sinful ; again, as those laws of polity and regiment, which would have served men living in public society together with that harmless disposition which then they should have had, are not able now to serve, when men's iniquity is so hardly restrained within any tolerable bounds : in like manner, the national laws of mutual commerce between societies of that former and better quality might have been other than now, when nations are so prone to offer violence, injury, and wrong. Hereupon hath grown in every of these three kinds that distinction between Primary 16 Gen. ii. 20. 17 I Kings x. I. 18 i.e., to consider, treat of. 62 RICHARD HOOKER. and Secondary laws ; the one grounded upon sincere, the other built upon depraved nature. Primary laws of nations are such as concern ernbassage, such as belong to the courteous entertainment of foreigners and strangers, such as serve for commodious traffic, and the like. Secondary laws in the same kind are such as this present unquiet world is most familiarly acquainted with ; I mean laws of arms, which yet are much better known than kept. But what matter the law of nations doth contain I omit to search. The strength and virtue of that law is such that no particular nation can lawfully prejudice the same by any their several laws and ordinances, more than a man by his private resolutions the law of the whole commonwealth or state wherein he liveth. For as civil law, being the act of the whole body politic, doth therefore overrule each several part of the same body ; so there is no reason that any one commonwealth of itself should to the prejudice of another annihilate that whereupon the world hath agreed. For which cause, the Lacedemonians forbidding all access of strangers into their coasts are in that respect both by Josephus and Theo- doret deservedly blamed, as being enemies to that hospitality which for common humanity's sake all the nations on earth should embrace. [14] Now as there is great cause of communion, and conse- quently of laws for the maintenance of communion, amongst nations ; so amongst nations Christian the like in regard even of Christianity hath been always judged needful. And in this kind of correspondence amongst nations the force of general councils doth stand. For as one and the same law divine, whereof in the next place we are to speak, is unto all Christian churches a rule for the chiefest things, by means whereof they all in that respect make one Church, as having all but One Lord, one faith, and one baptism : 1