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 WITHDRAWN 
 
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 THE H. JOSEPHINE WIDENER BRANCH. 
 GIFT OF P.A.B. WIDENER, ESQ 
 
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 V.I
 
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 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY, 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF BOOKS 
 AS WELL AS OF THEIR AUTHORS; 
 
 WITH 
 
 OCCASIONAL CRITICISMS, $c. 
 
 BY GEORGE BURNETT, 
 
 Late of Baliol College, Oxford. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
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 41ATERNOSTER ROW. , c , ' ' 
 
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 PREFACE. 
 
 \ 
 
 ', . ''IS 
 
 THE idea of this compilation was suggested y 
 >f by Mr. Ellis's " Specimens of Early English 
 S^ Poets;" of which work it may be considered 
 NO in some sort as forming the counterpart. My 
 first intention was, to exhibit simply a chro- 
 nological series of selections, as specimens of 
 the progress of English prose style, with'out 
 any other comment or observation than short 
 biographical notices of the several authors, 
 like those in the two last volumes of Mr. Ellis. 
 But I soon reflected, that a bare list of un- 
 connected, often of incomplete passages, would 
 
 , 5007 
 
 THE H. JOSEPHINE WlDENER BRANOL
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 probably afford but a meagre entertainment 
 to the general reader ; and that a useful prin- 
 ciple of connection may be communicated 
 by the interspersion of such remarks and his- 
 torical matter, as should tend to elucidate 
 the progress of our national literature, as well 
 as language. Conceiving, too, that a work 
 of this nature is likely to fall into the hands 
 of young and uninformed readers, I have 
 thought it of consequence to mark distinctly 
 the great literary seras, with a view less to 
 give information, than to stimulate enquiry. 
 For various literary sketches and remarks (par- 
 ticularly, however, in the first volume,) I have 
 been indebted to Warton's History of Eng- 
 lish Poetry; in a slight degree also to Mr. 
 Godwin's Life of Chaucer. My general source 
 for the lives has been the Biographia Britanica. 
 Other sources are referred to, where it could be 
 of any utility. It were idle to make a display 
 of authorities in a work which has no preten- 
 sions to originality even of compilement. In-
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 deed, I consider myself as having done little 
 more, than collected into a convenient form and 
 arrangement, some information (I hope enter- 
 taining and useful) before incommodiously dis- 
 persed cither in scarce or cumbrous volumes. 
 
 From the period of lord Bacon, both the 
 language and people's habits of thought, be- 
 come settled in a regular order of progression ; 
 and my observations of every kind are less 
 frequent, because Jess necessary. A few in- 
 troductory, remarks only to the several reigns 
 have sufficed, with the customary extension 
 of the biographies, where the subjects seemed 
 to require it; in general, the lives consist 
 merely of a few dates. 
 
 It appeared to me also, that it would add 
 greatly to the usefulness, and particularly to 
 the convenience of the work, as a, book of oc- 
 casional reference, if I inserted lists of the 
 different productions of the several authors. 
 This has, therefore, been commonly done, 
 with a brief account of principal works. Such
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 lists are not without their use, in the view 
 simply of indicating the subjects which have 
 interested the curiosity, and exercised the 
 talents of different ages. 
 
 Moreover, the work comprises an account 
 of, and extracts from, most of the ancient 
 chroniclers and historians who have written 
 in English. 
 
 The principles hy which I have generally 
 been influenced in my choice of extracts have 
 been, to select passages curious or remarkable, 
 as relating directly to the subject of language; 
 as possessing intrinsic value as examples of 
 style; as characteristic of the author; or as 
 distinctive of the manners and sentiments of 
 the age. In writers of continuous reasoning, 
 \vhich abound from the reign of Elizabeth, my 
 aim has commonly been to present as clear a 
 view of the general principles of the author, 
 as my limits would admit, and as could be 
 done in the words of the author himself; and 
 which has been attempted, not simply by the
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 selection of those parts where they are dis- 
 tinctly stated, hut by frequently conjoining 
 passages, distant in place, though connected 
 in sense. The extracts, therefore, together 
 with the interspersed remarks, and the occa- 
 sional sketches of literary history, will obvi- 
 ously contribute to elucidate the progress 
 of manners, of opinion, and of general refine- 
 ment. 
 
 I need scarcely suggest the peculiar advan- 
 tages of thus exhibiting a view of writers in 
 chronological order. It assists the memory, 
 by favouring the most natural and appropriate 
 associations ; the celebrated cotemporaries are 
 represented, as they ought, in groups : and if 
 the questions arise, Who were the literary 
 worthies that adorned any given reign ? and 
 What were their respective claims to distinc- 
 tion ' we have only to turn to that reign in 
 the present work, to receive the required in- 
 formation. Even the incidental mention in 
 the biographies of facts in civil history, will
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 tend to awaken the curiosity to become better 
 acquainted with the transactions of which 
 they are links; and thus the reader will be 
 insensibly led to the civil, as well as the lite- 
 rary history of the period. 
 
 Still, however, I do not present these vo- 
 lumes as a work of much research. I have 
 examined scarcely at all into MS. stores; and 
 have been more solicitous to give an account 
 of authors who possess a permanent value, 
 than of productions valuable only as curious 
 relics of past literary ages. I considered also, 
 that within the limits I thought proper to assign 
 myself, the number of names might have been 
 too great, as well as too little : for, as prose has 
 not the advantage of poetry, (in which a sonnet 
 is as complete as an epic poem) the extracts in 
 the former case could rarely, from their brevity, 
 have possesse'd a distinct and independent 
 Yalue. It seemed therefore more rational to 
 allot to great and valuable authors a tolerable 
 space, that the specimens exhibited from
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 them might give the reader no incompetent 
 idea of their respective excellencies, or pecu- 
 liarities. 
 
 To prevent any repellent effect to the ge- 
 neral reader, it was thought advisable to 
 adopt the modern orthography. The ancient 
 spelling, indeed, was quite unsettled, and in 
 some degree arbitrary ; the same author often 
 
 wntiner the same word in two or three differ- 
 
 & 
 ent ways. To many readers, this might have 
 
 been a source of obscurity. It was hence, 
 perhaps, of less consequence to retain it; but 
 it once occurred to me to print a few sentences, 
 or a short passage, in each author, in the an- 
 cient manner, and the series of specimens 
 might then have been considered as histori- 
 cally correct ; at least sufficiently so for every 
 useful purpose. This may hereafter be done, 
 should the work be so fortunate as to be sanc- 
 tioned by the public approbation. 
 
 Some of the extracts towards the latter end 
 xf the first volume may possibly appear to
 
 xii PREFACE. 
 
 contain as many, and even more obsolete 
 words, than several of those of an earlier date. 
 This has arisen, I apprehend, from the early 
 multiplication of copies of books ; and from 
 the alterations made by successive transcribers 
 before the invention of printing ; and by dif- 
 ferent editors since. 
 
 It might have given an air of greater com- 
 pleteness to this work, had it been preceded 
 by an essay on the early formation of our lan- 
 guage from the Anglo Saxon and Norman 
 French ; but having been anticipated in the 
 plan by Mr. Ellis, it could have been regarded 
 only as superfluous repetition of what he and 
 his predecessors Johnson and Tyrrwhit had 
 done before. For the same reason also, I have 
 been more sparing of observations strictly 
 philological, than otherwise I might have 
 been. The matter interspersed is, for the 
 most part, historical or bibliological ; calcu- 
 lated to give some little information to those 
 who have not made our early literature the
 
 PREFAEC. Xlll 
 
 subject -of their particular study. To have 
 accumulated critical remarks would have been 
 an officious obtrusion upon the judgment of 
 the reader. 
 
 In fumbling over such a multitude of books, 
 and upon subjects almost equally multitudi- 
 nous, I can by no means presume to hope, 
 that I have always lighted upon passages, the 
 very best that might have been chosen. In 
 respect of the principal authors, I trust, there 
 will be little rot>m for complaint; yet there 
 will still remain many flowers 6f beauty 
 and fragrance, which would have embel.ished 
 the garland here presented, and on which my 
 discursive eye has not fallen. Should the 
 opportunity be allowed me I should grate- 
 fully cull any which might be pointed out 
 to me by some more attentive* or tasteful 
 wanderer in the fields of literature. Besides, 
 it can scarcely be deemed unreasonable for me 
 to alledge,that the toil of transcription (though 
 in this respect I have had much assistance) has
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 been yet considerable; not to mention the un- 
 avoidable waste of labour, arising from altera- 
 tion of taste in selection, and from the difficulty 
 of proportioning the extracts. Had I thorough- 
 ly foreseen the tediousness occasioned by these 
 causes, I should almost have been deterred 
 from the undertaking. 
 
 In a work of this kind, fame is entirely out of 
 the question ; if the public, therefore, should 
 think proper to call for a second edition, I 
 should very readily adopt any suggestion, 
 either from friend or stranger, which I thought 
 could add either to its utility or entertainment.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF VOL. I. 
 
 Page 
 
 Sir John Mandn'tlle - - - - 3 
 
 Trcvisa The Polychronicon. - 25 
 
 Widlffe - - - - 54 
 
 Chaucer - - - - . - 87 
 
 Reynold Pecock (Bis/top of Chick-ester) - - 113 
 
 Sir John Forlescue - - - - 130 
 
 Fenn's Letters - - - - 1 42 
 
 Caxton - - - T 160 
 
 The Chronicles of England - - 173 
 
 The Description of England - 204 
 
 The Fruit of Times ' - - - 209 
 
 The Golden Legend - - 215 
 The Book of the Order of Chivalry or Knight- 
 
 . hood - 229 
 
 Morte Arthur - 247 
 
 The Boole of the Feats of Arms and of Chivalry - 263 
 
 ROMANCE - - - - - - 277 
 
 Fabian - - - - 2.^4 
 
 REVIVAL OF LETTERS ... 306 
 
 Froissart - - 321 
 
 Fischer (Bishop of Rochester} - - 331 
 
 Sir Thomas More - - 357 
 
 Leland - - - - 3.96 
 
 Harding - - 408 
 
 Hall - - - 414 
 Tyndalc, Coverdale, Rogers Translations of the 
 
 Bible - ... 424 
 
 Latimer (Bishop of Worcester) 450
 
 SPECIMENS, 
 
 m t 
 
 TOL. 1.
 
 SPECIMENS, $c. 
 
 EDWARD III. 
 
 M4NDEFILLE. 
 
 THE first prose writer in the English language, 
 which occurs in our literary annals, is the an- 
 cient and renowned traveller, sir John Mande- 
 ville. He was born at St. Albans about the 
 beginning of 130O. He received a liberal edu- 
 cation, and applied himself to the study of 
 medicine, which he probably practised for 
 some time. But being urarcd bv an uncon- 
 
 O o / 
 
 querable curiosity to see foreign countries, he 
 departed from England in 1332, and contin- 
 ued abroad for four and thirty years ; during 
 which time his person and appearance had
 
 4 MANDEVILLE. 
 
 f-o changed, that, on his return, his friends, who 
 had supposed him dead, did not know him. 
 In the course of his travels, he acquired the 
 knowledge of almost all languages, and visited 
 all the chief countries of the known earth ; 
 among which may be enumerated Greece, 
 Dalmatia, .Armenia the greater and less, Egypt, 
 Arabia, Chaldsea, Syria, Media, Mesopotamia, 
 Persia, Scythia, Cathay or China, &c. The 
 habit of roving, however, was still too power- 
 ful to suffer him to remain quietly at home. 
 He quitted his own country a second time, and 
 finally died at Liege in the Low Countries, in 
 1372. 
 
 He wrote an " Itinerary," or an account of 
 his travels, in English, French, and Latin. 
 We learn from Vossius, that it existed also 
 in Italian, Belgic, and German. The inscrip- 
 tion, too, on his monument at Liege, is pre- 
 served by the same author, and is as follows : 
 Hie jacet vir nobilis, domiitus Johannes de 
 Mandeville, alias diet us ad Barbam, do minus 
 de Campoli, natus in Anglia, medicina professor, 
 devotissimus orator, et bonontm suorum Jargis- 
 simus pauperibus erogator, qui, toto quasi orbe 
 Justrato, Leodii vitas sua: diem clausit, A. D. 1372, 
 Not. 17, .
 
 MANDEVILLB. 5 
 
 His travels abound in miracles and wonder- 
 ful stories ; and accordingly, the title of one 
 of the Latin manuscripts is Itinerarium Johan- 
 nis Manndeville, de Mirabitibus Mundi. Am^ 
 bitious of saying whatever had been, as well as 
 whatever could be said of the places he visited, 
 he has taken monsters from Pliny, miracles 
 from legends, and marvellous stories from 
 romances. In this, indeed, he only furnishes 
 an instance of the taste of the age in which 
 he lived ; and imitates the example of the 
 early historians of all nations, and among his 
 own countrymen, his predecessors Gildas, 
 Nennius, Geoffrey of Monmouth, and even 
 the venerable Bede, in blending fabulous 
 narratives with the relations of real history. 
 It should be observed, however, that his book 
 is supposed to have been interpolated by the 
 monks ; a supposition that will appear highly 
 probable from the following extracts. Still, 
 when he relates stories of an improbable na- 
 ture, he commonly prefaces them with 
 " They say," or " men say but I have not 
 seen it;" though he is to blame in not citing 
 his authorities, when he adopts the accounts 
 of others. He acknowleges only, in general 
 terms, (p. 381 2, edit. 172,5) that his book
 
 fi MANDEVILLE. 
 
 was made partly from hearsay, and partly from 
 his own observation. It is entitled, " The 
 Voyage and Travels of sir John Mandeville, 
 knight, which treateth of the way to Hierusa- 
 leme, and of the marvels of Ind, with other 
 Islands and Countries." 
 
 As extracts from this ancient traveller will 
 be read more for amusement than information, 
 my object has been to select the marvellous 
 rather than the true. 
 
 The following introductory passage, from 
 his prologue, mentions generally the countries 
 he had visited ; and gives the reader an idea of 
 what he is to expect from the perusal of hia 
 work : 
 
 And for as much as it is long time passed, that 
 there was no general passage ne l voyage over the 
 ea ; and many men desire to hear speak of the 
 Holy Land, and han a thereof great solace and com- 
 fort ; I John Mandeville, knight, albeit I be not 
 worthy, that was born in England, in the town of 
 St. Albans, passed the sea, in the year of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ 1322, in the day of St. Michael ; and 
 hitherto have been long time over the sea, and have 
 seen and gone through many divers lands, and many 
 
 1 nor. 5 hav.
 
 MANDEVILLE. 7 
 
 provinces and kingdoms and isles, and have passed 
 through Tatary, Persia, Ermonye 1 the Little and 
 the Great ; through Lybia, Chaldea, and a great part 
 of Ethiopia; through Amazonia, 'Ind the Less and the 
 More, a great part ; and throughout muny other isles 
 that ben* about Ind ; where dwell many divers folks, 
 and of divers manners and laws, and of divers shapes 
 of men. Of which lands and isles I shall speak more 
 plainly hereafter. And I shall devise you some part 
 of things that there ben when time shall ben 3 , after it 
 may best come to my mind ; and specially for them, 
 that will and are in purpose for to visit the holy city 
 of Jerusalem, and the holy places that are thereabout. 
 And I shall tell the way that they should hold thither : 
 for I have oftentimes, passed and ridden the way, 
 with good company of many lords, God be thanked. 
 
 And ye 1 should understand that I have put this book 
 out of Latin into French, and translated it again out 
 of French into English, that every man of my nation 
 may understand it. But lords and knights and other 
 noble and worthy men, that conne* Latin but little,- 
 and ban ben 5 beyond the sea, know and understand, 
 if I err in devising, for forgetting, or else ; that 
 they may redress it and amend it. For things passed 
 out of long, time from a man's mind, or from his 
 sight, 'turn one into forgetting: because that mind 
 
 1 Armenia. * are. 3 be. * know. * 'have been.
 
 MANDEVILLE. 
 
 of man we 1 may not hen* comprehended nt 3 withheld. 
 for the frailty of mankind. 
 
 Of Hippocras's daughter transform^ from a vomun to 
 a dragon. 
 
 Some men say that in the isle of Lango* is yet the 
 daughter of IIippocras,in form and likeness of a great 
 dragon, that is an hundred fathoms of length, as men 
 say ; for I have not seen her And they of the isles 
 call her the Lady of the Land. And she lieth in an 
 old castle, in a cave, and sheweth twice or thrice in 
 the year, and she doth none harm to no man, but if* 
 men do her harm. And she was thus changed and 
 'transformed, from a fair damsel into likeness of a 
 dragon, hy a goddess that was clept Deant 6 . And 
 men say, that she shall so endure in the form of a 
 dragon, unto the time that a knight come, that is so 
 hardy, that dare come to her and kiss her on the 
 
 N 
 
 mouth : and then shall she turn again to her own 
 kind, and he a woman again ; hut after that she shall 
 not live long. And it is not long sithoi' that a knight 
 of the Rhodes, that was hardy and doughty in arms, 
 said that he would kiss her. And when he was upon 
 
 ' neither. 2 be. 3 nor. < An island not far from Crete. 
 5 unless. * called Diana. ? since.
 
 MANDEVILLE. 9 
 
 his courser, and went to the castle, and entered into 
 the cave, the dragon lift up her head against him. 
 And when the knight saw her in that form so hideous 
 and so horrible, he flew away. And the dragon bare 
 the knight upon a rock, -mavgre his hcdt 1 ; and from 
 this rock she cast him into the sea ; and so was lost 
 both horse and man. And also a young man, that 
 wist not of the dragon, went out of a ship$ and went 
 through die isle, till that he came to the castle and 
 came into the cave ; and went so long, till that he. 
 found a chamber, and there he saw a damsel, that 
 kembed* her head, and looked in a mirror ; and she 
 .had much treasure about her ; and he trowed 3 that she 
 had been a common woman, that dwelled there to 
 receive men to folly. And he abode till the damsel 
 saw the shadow of him in the mirror. And she 
 turned her toward him, and asked him what he 
 would ? And he said he would be her lemman, or 
 paramour. And she asked him, if that he were a 
 knight. And he said, Nay. And then she said, 
 that he might not be her lemman ; but she bad him 
 go again unto his fellows, and make him a knight, 
 and come again upon the morrow, and she should 
 come "out of the cave before him ; and then come 
 and kiss her on the mouth and have no dread : for 1 
 shall do thee no manner harm, alheit that thon 
 
 ' in spite of his heed, i. c care or caution. 
 - combed 3 supposed.
 
 10 MANDEVILLE. 
 
 see me in likeness of a dragon. For though thou see 
 me hideous and horrible to look on, J do thee to wy- 
 tene 1 , that it is made be enchantment : for without 
 doubt, I am none other than thou seest now, a 
 woman ; and therefore dread thee nought. And if 
 thou kiss me thou shalt have all this treasure, and 
 be my lord, and lord also of all that isle. And he 
 departed from her and went to his fellows to the 
 ship, and let make him knight, and came again upon 
 the morrow, for to kiss this damsel. And when he 
 saw her come out of the cave, in form of a dragon, 
 so hideous and so horrible, he had so great dread, 1 
 that he flew again to the ship, and she followed him. 
 And when she saw that he turned not again, she 
 began to cry as a thing that had much sorroto : 
 and then she turned again into her cave ; and anon 
 the knight died. And sithen hitherwards, might no 
 knight see her, but that he died anon. But when a 
 knight cometh, that is so hardy to kiss her, he shall 
 not die ; but he shall turn the damsel into her right 
 form and kindly shape, and he shall be lord of all the 
 countries and isles above-said.' 
 
 Of the devil's head in the Valley Perilous. 
 Beside that isle' of Mistorak, upon the left ' side, 
 nigh to the river Phison, is a marvellous thing. 
 1 I give thee to understand.
 
 MANDEVILLE. 11 
 
 There is a vale between the mountains, that dureth 
 nigh a four mile. And some clepen 1 it the Vale En- 
 chanted, some clepen it the Vale of Devils, and 
 some clepen it the Vale Perilous ; in that vale hear en * 
 men oftentime great tempests and thunders, and 
 great murmurs and noises, all day and nights ; and 
 great noise as it were sound of tabors and of nakcrcs * 
 and trumps, as though it were of a great feast. 
 This vale is all full of devils, and hath been always. 
 And men say there, that it is one of the entries 
 of hell. In that vale is plenty of gold and silver ; 
 wherefore many misbelieving men, and many Chris- 
 tian men also, gon* in often' time, for to have of 
 the treasure that there is, but few comen again ; and 
 namely, of the misbelieving men, ne of the Christian 
 men nouthcr 3 : for they be n anon strangled of 
 devils. And in mid place of that vale, under a rock, 
 is an head of the visage of a devil bodily,' full hor- 
 rible and dreadful to see ; and it sheweth not but the 
 head, to the shoulders. But there is no man in the 
 world so hardy, Christian man ne other, but that 
 he would ben adrad 9 for to behold it ; and that it 
 would seemen him to die for dread ; so is it hideous 
 for to behold. For he beholdeth every man so 
 
 1 call. hear. 
 
 3 Nakeres. Nacara, (Du Cange,) a kind of brazen drum used 
 in the cavalry. 
 
 4 go. s neither. 6 afraid.
 
 1<2 MANDEVILLE. 
 
 sharply with dreadful cyen 1 that ben evermore moving 
 and sparkling as fire, and changeth and steereth so 
 often in divers manner, with so horrible countenance, 
 that no man dare nqt nighen* towards him. And fro 3 
 him cometh smoke and stink, and fire,* and so much 
 abomination, th & t unct/ic* no man may there endure. 
 But the good Christian men, that ben stable in the 
 faith, entren well withouten peril : for they will 
 first shrhcn hem 5 , and mark en him with the token of 
 the Holy Cross ; so that the fiends tie han no 6 power 
 over hem. But albeit that they ben withouten peril, 
 it nathales 1 ne hen they not withouten dread, when 
 that they seen the devils visibly and bodily all about 
 /ion, that maken full many divers assauta* and me- 
 naces in air and in earth, and agastcn 9 hem with 
 strokes of thunder-blasts and of tempests. And 
 the most dread is, that God will taken vengeance 
 then, of that men han 10 misdone again 11 his will. And 
 ye should understand, that when my fellows and I 
 weren in that- vale, we weren in great thought whe- 
 ther that we dursten putten our bodies in aventure, 
 to gon in or non, in the protection of God. And 
 some .of our fellows accordcden n to enter, and some 
 noght. 13 So there were with us two worthy men, 
 
 1 eyes. 2 approach. 3 from. 
 
 < scarcely. s confess themselves. 6 have no. 
 
 ' yet nevertheless. 8 assaults. 3 terrify. 10 have. 
 
 11 against. 12 agreed. '3 not.
 
 MANDEVILLE. 13 
 
 ri ars minors that were of Lombardy, that said, that if 
 any man would enter, they would go in with us. 
 And when they had said so, upon the gracious trust of 
 God and of hem 1 , we let sing mass ; and made every 
 man to be shriven and houseld 2 ; and then we entered 
 fourteen persons; but at our going out, we were but 
 nine. And so we tcisten* never, whether that our 
 fellows were lost, or die* turned again for dread ; 
 but we lie saw them never after ; and t/iu 5 were two 
 men of Greece and three of Spain; and our other 
 fellows that would not go in with us, they went by 
 another coast to ben before us, and so they were. 
 And thus we passed that perilous vale, and found 
 therein gold and silver and precious stones and rich 
 jewels great plenty, both here and there, as us 
 seemed ; but whether that it was, as us seemed, / 
 wot nert 6 ; for I touched none, because that the devils 
 be so subtle to make a thing to seem otherwise than 
 it is, for to deceive mankind ; and therefore I touched 
 none; and also because that I would not be put out of 
 my devotion : for I was more devout then than ever 
 I was before or after ; and all for the dread of h'ends, 
 that I saw in divers figures ; and also for the great 
 multitude of dead bodies that I saw there lying by 
 
 : themselves. 
 
 2 to be confessed, and to have the Lord's Supper administered 
 to him. 
 
 s knew. 4 else. 5 they. 6 I never knew.
 
 14 JrtANDEVILLE. 
 
 the way, by all the vale, as though there had been a 
 battle between two kings, and the mightiest of the 
 country, and that the greater part had been discom- 
 fitted and slain. And I froze 1 that umtlit? should 
 any country have so much people within him, as 
 lay slain in that vale, as us thought ; the which was 
 an hideous sight to seen 3 . And I marvelled much, 
 that there were so many, and the bodies all whole 
 tzithouten rotting. But I trowe that fiends made 
 them seem to be so whole, tcithouten rotting. But 
 that might not be to my a-cya*, that so many 
 should have entered so newly, tie so many newly 
 slain, without stinking and rotting. And many 
 of them were in habit of Christian men ; but I 
 trowe well, that it were of such, that went in for 
 covttysc* of the treasure that was there, and had 
 overmuch feebleness in faith; so that their hearts 
 ne might not endure in the belief for dread. And 
 therefore were we the more devout a great deal ; and 
 yet we were cast down, and beaten down many times 
 to the hard earth, by winds and thunders and tem- 
 pests ; but evermore, God, of his grace, helped us. 
 And so we passed that perilous vale, without peril, 
 and without incumbrance. Thanked be Almighty 
 God. 
 
 1 suppose. a scarcely. 3 see. 
 
 * advice, understanding. s covetousness.
 
 MANDEVILLE. 15 
 
 The reason why The Great Khan, emperor of 
 India, was known in Europe by the name of 
 Prester John, Mandeville states to be the fol- 
 lowing: 
 
 I trow that ye know well enow, and have heard 
 say, wherefore this emperor is clept Prester John. 
 But nathdess 1 for them that know not, I shall say you 
 the cause. It was sometime an emperor there that 
 was a worthy and full noble prince, that had Chris- 
 tian knights in his company, as he hath that is now. 
 So it befel, that he had great list for to see the ser- 
 vice in the church, among Christian men. And 
 then durcd Christendom beyond the sea. All Turkey, 
 Syria, Tatary, Jerusalem, Palestine, Arabia, Halappu, 
 and all the land of Egypt. So it befel that this em- 
 peror came, with a Christian knight with him, into a 
 church in Egypt ; and it was the Saturday in Whit- 
 sun week. And the bishop made orders. And he 
 beheld and listened the service full tcntyfly*. And he 
 asked the Christian knight, what men of degree they 
 should be, that the prelate had before him. And 
 the knight answered and said, that they should be 
 priests. And then the emperor said, that he would 
 no longer be clept king, ne emperor, but priest ; and 
 that he would have the name of the first priest that 
 
 1 nevertheless. 2 attentively.
 
 16 MANDEV1LLE. 
 
 went out of the church ; and his name was John. 
 And so evermore sit/ten, he isclcpt Prester John. 
 
 I shall close my extracts from this author 
 with his concluding paragraph. 
 
 I John Mandeville, knight abovesaid, (although I 
 be unworthy,) that departed from our countries, and 
 passed the sea, the year of grace 1322, that have 
 passed many lands, and many isle's and countries, 
 and searched many full strange places, arid have been 
 in many full good honourable company, and at many 
 a fair deed of arms, (albeit that I did none myself, for 
 mine able insufficience) now I am come home meagre my- 
 self, to rest : for gouts, artetykes 1 , that me distraught*, 
 they define the end of my labour, against my will, God 
 knoweth. And thus taking solace in my wretched 
 rest, recording the time past, I have fulfilled these 
 things and put them written in this book, as it would 
 come into my mind, the year of Grace 1356 in the 
 34th year that 1 departed from our countries. Where- 
 fore I pray to all the readers and hearers of this book, 
 if it please them, that they would pray to God for 
 me ; and I shall pray for them. And all those that 
 
 1 aching of limbs. a distract.
 
 MANDEVILLE. 17 
 
 say for me a pater-noster, with an ave-maria, that God 
 forgive'me my sins, I make them partners, and grant 
 them part of all the good pilgrimages, and of all the 
 good deeds, that I have done, if any be to his plea- 
 sure. And not only of those, but of all that ever I 
 shall do unto my life's end. And I beseech Almighty 
 God, from whom all goodness and grace corneth, 
 that he vouchsafe of his excellent mercy and abun- 
 dant grace, to fulfil their souls with inspiration of 
 the Holy Ghost, in making defence of all their 
 ghostly enemies here in earth, to their salvation, 
 both of body and soul, to worship and thanking of 
 Him, that is Three and One, witkouten beginning and 
 uithouten ending ; that is, zcithouteti quality, good, and 
 without quantity, great ; that in all places is present, 
 and all things containing ; the which that no good- 
 ness may amend ne none evil impair ; that in perfect 
 trinity liveth and reigneth God, be all worlds and be 
 all times. Amen, amen, amen. 
 
 Sir John Mandeville was not the first Eu- 
 ropean traveller who visited the oriental re- 
 gions. The Arabians who immigrated into 
 Europe, and finally settled in Spain about the 
 ninth century, by their exaggerated descrip- 
 tions of the wonders to be seen in the east, 
 were the first to excite the curiosity of Eu- 
 
 VOL. i. c
 
 18 MANDEVILLE. 
 
 ropeans respecting those distant countries- 
 .As the eastern nations at that early period, in 
 addition to their abounding in natural curiosi- 
 ties, really and greatly surpassed those of 
 Europe in the drts and luxuries of life, and in 
 general civilization, the crusaders, a few cen- 
 turies after; on their return from the Holy 
 Land, served to confirm, and even to mag- 
 nify the accounts of the Arabians. These 
 accounts, which were partly true and partly 
 fabulous, falling into the hands of the monks, 
 were mixed up with various legendary addi- 
 tions of their own, into treatises, under the 
 title of Mirabilia Mundi ; which contributing 
 to awaken still more the desire to visit those 
 wonderful countries, several professed tra- 
 vellers into the east during the twelfth, thir- 
 teenth, and fourteenth centuries, surprised the 
 western world with their marvellous narratives. 
 At the court of the Great Khan, persons of all 
 nations arid of all religions, if at all distin- 
 guished for talents, were hospitably received, 
 and often preferred; 
 
 The first European traveller into the east 
 was Benjamin, a Jew of Tudela in Navarre, 
 who ended his travels in 1 173. Having reach- 
 ed Constantinople, he proceeded to Alexandria
 
 MANDEVILLE. 10 
 
 in ^Egypt, whence he penetrated through 
 Persia to the frontiers of Tzin, now China. 
 He bears testimony to the immense wealth of 
 Constantinople ; and says that its port swarm- 
 ed with ships from all countries. . He ex- 
 aggerates, however, in speaking of the pro- 
 digious number of Jews in that city ; and in 
 other respects, is full of marvellous and roman- 
 tic stories. 
 
 About the year 1245, William de Rubmquis 
 a monk, was sent, by the command of St. 
 Louis king of France, into Persic Tatary ; 
 as, was also Carpini, by Pope Innocent IV. 
 Their books abound with improbabilities. 
 About 1260> Marco Polo, a Venetian noble- 
 man, travelled into Syria and Persia, and to 
 the country uniformly called in the dark ages 
 Cathay, which proves to be the northern part 
 of China. His book, entitled De Regionibus 
 OrientiSj mentions the immense and opulent 
 city of Cambalu, undoubtedly Pekin. Hak- 
 luyt, the collector of voyages, cites a friar 
 named Oderick, who travelled to Cambalu in 
 Cathay, and whose description of that city 
 corresponds exactly with that of Pekin. 
 
 From the accounts of these early travellers 
 into the east, Roger Bacon, about 1280. 
 c 2
 
 MANDEV1LLE. 
 
 formed his geography of that part of the globe, 
 as is evident from what he relates of the Ta- 
 tars. See Purchas. Pilgrim. 3. 52. Bacon Op. 
 Maj. 228. 35. 
 
 There was, moreover, a history of the Ta- 
 tars popular in Europe about the year 1310. 
 It was either written or dictated by Aiton, a 
 king of Armenia, who after traversing the 
 most remarkable countries of the east, turned 
 monk at Cyprus. His travels, partly from the 
 rank of the author, and partly from the won- 
 derful adventures they contain, were in their 
 day in high estimation. 
 
 Leland says that Mandeville, on his return 
 from his travels, gave to the shrine of St. 
 Thomas a Becket, in the cathedral of Canter- 
 bury, a glass globe enclosing an apple, which 
 he probably brought from the east. This 
 curiosity was seen by Leland; and he asserts 
 that the apple remained fresh and undecayed- 
 Mandevilte also gave to the high altar of St. 
 Alban's abbey church, a sort of patera, brought 
 from Egypt, and which, not many years since, 
 was in the hands of an antiquary in London. 
 
 Such was the taste for marvellous his- 
 tories in those times of wonderment and 
 ignorance, that Gyraldus Cambrensis, who
 
 MANDEVILLE. 21 
 
 wrote about the year 1200, in his book on 
 Ireland,, thought proper, in obedience to the 
 reigning fashion, to entitle it De Mirabilibus 
 Hibernite. There is also a MS. in the Bodleian 
 library, with the title of De Mirabilibus slng- 
 lia. And at length appeared a compilation 
 with the more comprehensive title of Mirabilia 
 llibernitE, Anglice, et Orientis ; which is 
 among the MSS. in the Royal library. The 
 Polyhistor of Solinus, in many MSS. has 
 likewise the title of De Mirabilibus Mundi ; 
 and we have .even De Mirabilibus Veteris et 
 
 Novi Testamenti. 
 
 i 
 
 It appears, that the passion for visiting the 
 Holy Land did not cease among us, till late in 
 the reign of Henry the Eighth. Warton, men- 
 tions one William Wey, Fellow of Eton Col- 
 lege, who celebrated Mass, cum cantu organico, 
 at Jerusalem in the year 1472 ; and cites an 
 Itinerary under the title of " The Pilgrimage 
 of Sir Richard Torkington, Parson of Mulber- 
 ton in Norfolk, to Jerusalem, An. 1517," as 
 extant in the Bodleian Library. 
 
 These infatuations are interesting chiefly as 
 they enable us to trace the history of human 
 credulity ; but they also exhibit to the philo- 
 sopher a proof, that feelings of wonderment
 
 22 MANDEVILLE. 
 
 must precede curiosity, by which the faculties 
 are expanded and perfected. Thus, the idle 
 visions we have been contemplating eventually 
 gave birth to a spirit of rational inquiry into 
 the topographical state of foreign countries, 
 which produced commerce, and those other 
 valuable improvements which spring from the 
 friendly intercourse of nations,
 
 Etcljarti II.
 
 TREVISA.THE POLYCHRONICON. 
 
 THE translation of the Pofychronicon, by Tre- 
 visa, is the first prose chronicle in the English 
 language, and is among the earliest prose corn- 
 positions. It may possibly be equal in bulk to 
 all which existed before it: for in 1248, it is 
 stated by Mr. Ritson, from John of Clasten- 
 bury, that no more than four books in English, 
 (and those upon religious subjects,) were found 
 in the library of Glastenbury-abbey, one of the 
 most extensive in the kingdom. Leland also, 
 when he ransacked the monastic and other li- 
 braries in the reign of Henry VITI. found only 
 two or three books written in English. 
 
 This Chronicle was compiled in Latin, by 
 Ralph Higden, a benedictine of St. Werberg's 
 monastery, now the cathedral in Chester. Hig- 
 den was born in the reign of Henry III. though 
 in what year is unknown ; but, as he is said to 
 have died very aged, in the year 1363, if we 
 assume even the last year of the reign of that 
 prince, or 1272, for the time of his birth, his 
 age will amount to no less than 91 years. 
 
 By a comparison which has been made of
 
 2G TREVISA. 
 
 some old MS. copies of this Polychronicon, 
 (rcposited in the Harleian library,) with the Po- 
 lycratica Temporurn of Roger Cestrensis, also a 
 Benedictine monk of St. Werberg, a suspicion 
 has arisen that Higden pillaged the greater part 
 of his Chronicle from the Po/ycratica; and that 
 he had a design to appropriate the labours of 
 his brother monk. This supposition is renr 
 dered the more probable, from the following 
 circumstance. It is remarked by Bishop Ni- 
 cholson (English Historical Library, edit. 1714, 
 P. 65,) that, " If you spell the first letters of the 
 several chapters that begin it, you read -Pr&- 
 sentem Clironicam f rater compilavit Rattulphus 
 Monachus Cestrensis;" a species of whim com- 
 mon* with the historians of those times. Still, 
 it should be observed, that Roger, as well as 
 Higden, was a collector, and that the latter has 
 subjoined the names of his authors. The fol- 
 lowing is a list of his authorities, as enumerated 
 at the latter end of the preface to the first 
 chapter : 
 
 1. Josephus. 2. JEgesippus. 3. P Urdus. 4. 
 Trugus Pompeius. 5. Justinus. 6. Emebius 
 in Historia Ecclesiastica. 7- Historia Ecclesi- 
 astica Tfiptita cuique tres sunt Auctores, Euse- 
 bius, Hieronimus, et Theodoras Episcopus. 8.
 
 TREV1SA. 27 
 
 tftigtt&tinus de Civitate Dei. Q. Orosus Hy- 
 spamis Terraconensis, Presbyter, in Libro de Or- 
 mestrd Mundi. 10. Psydorus Hytpalensis, in 
 Libro Ethimotogia. 11. Svlinus de Mirabilibus 
 Mundi. 12. Henricug Huntendon, Archidiaco- 
 nus. 13. Eulropius. 14. Gualterm Oxoniensis, 
 .di'chidiacoitus. 15. Paidus Diacomts, in Hh~ 
 toria LongobardoHiim. U>. Alfndus fiever/a- 
 censis, Tkexaurarius. 17- Cassiodorua de Gestis 
 Imperatomm et Pvntificum. 18^ Ga/fridus Mo- 
 namutemis, in Ih'storia Britonum. 19. Metho- 
 dius, Martyrus et Episcopus ; cui incarcerate re- 
 velavit ange/ns de. mundi statu, principio, et 
 Jine. 0. IVillelmus Ryvalemis. 21. Giraldus 
 Cambrensis qui descripsit Topographiam Hy- 
 bentitf, Itinerarimn Walliai, et vitam regis Hen- 
 rid Secundi, sub Triplici Distinctiones. 22. SHC- 
 conius de Gestis Romanorum. 2,3. Valerius 
 Maximus de Gestis Memoria. 24. Macro- 
 biu.s, in Saturnalibus. 0,5. Johannes Salisbu- 
 riensis, in suo Policraticon. 26. Priscianus 
 Grammaticm, in Costnographia. 27. Petnts 
 Comestor, in Uhtoria Scholastics. 28. Jiu- 
 gnsio Pysanus, Episcopus, in Magnis Divi- 
 nationibus suis. 29. Grevorius de Mirabilibus 
 
 O 
 
 Romec. 30. I incent'nis Beluacensis, in Specula 
 fJiitoriali. 31. Beda de Gestis Anglorum. 33.
 
 2S TREVISA. 
 
 Puwarnolensis, Episcopns. 3$. Beda de J\afu- 
 ris J\enun. 34. IListoria Francorum. 35. Be- 
 da de Teinporikus. 36. Titus Livius de Gestis 
 Ramanoi'inn. 37. Gi/das de Gestis Britonnm. 
 38. Martians, Pcnitentiarius Domini Papa:, in 
 Crowds suis de Iinperutoribus et Pontifids. 39- 
 Marianus Scotus. 40. Willelmus Malmesbu- 
 riensis, Monachus, de Gestia Regum Angliec et 
 Pontificum. 41. Florentius Wigorum, Mona- 
 chus, quern in ennorum supputatione, una cum 
 Mariano, potissime sum secutus. 
 
 Florence of Worcester, to whom Higden 
 says he was particularly indebted in his compu- 
 tation of time, was the earliest historian of the 
 twelfth century. He abridged, or rather trans- 
 cribed Marianus ; adding, however, a few ju- 
 dicious collections of his own, from the Saxon 
 Chronicle, and other sources. To whom- 
 soever be referred the principal merit of the 
 compilation, it is generally agreed, that Hig- 
 den continued the Chronicle from 1329 to 
 1357, if not to the end of the seventh book. 
 Higden is valuable, as having preserved many 
 remains of ancient Chronicles, now lost. 
 
 The Pofychronicon is thus stiled, as the au- 
 thor himself informs us, from its comprehend- 
 ing the transactions pf many ages ; and it is di-
 
 TREVISA. 29 
 
 vided into seven books, from the example of 
 Him who wrought all his works in six days, 
 and rested on the seventh. The fivst describes 
 all countries in general, particularly Britain. 
 The other six comprise a concise account of 
 civil history, from the creation, down to the 
 author's own time ; that is, the reign of Edward 
 III. terminating in the year 13o7. 
 
 The part which treats of England, in the first 
 book, comprehends 15 chapters. The second 
 book contains the transactions from" Adam to 
 the burning of the Temple of the Jews. The 
 third extends to the transmigration of the 
 people to Christ. The fourth from Christ to 
 the arrival of the Saxons. The fifth from the 
 Saxons to the Danes. The sixth from the 
 Danes to the Normans. The seventh from the 
 Normans to the reign of Edward III. 
 
 That part which relates to the Britons and 
 Saxons was published by Dr. Gale, in 1691, 
 fol. Oxon. among his " Quindecim Scriptores 
 Historian Brittanica Saxonica 'Anglo-Daniel" 
 
 This Chronicle was translated into English, a* 
 already suggested, by John De Trevisa, a Cor- 
 nish man, and vicar, of Berkley, Gloucester- 
 shire; who undertook the task at th a request 
 of Thomas Lord Berkley, to whom he was
 
 SO TREVISA. 
 
 chaplain. The translation begins with Juliu* 
 Caesar; and it was finished, according to the 
 Cottonian MS. in the tenth of Richard II. or 
 
 in 1387- 
 
 Trevisa's work commences with a prefatory 
 dialogue on the Utility of Translations ; DC 
 Utilitate Translationum ; Dialogus Inter Ck- 
 ricum et Patronum ; the former stating his rea- 
 sons for the translation, the latter opposing it 
 as unnecessary; the Latin being the more ge- 
 neral language. After this comes the Epistle 
 of Trevisa to his Lordship ; and which is suf* 
 ficiently curious for extractions 
 
 Wealth and worship to my worthy and worshipful 
 Lord Thomas, Lord of Barkley. I John Trevisa, 
 your priest and bcdeman *, obedient and buxom* to work 
 your will, hold in heart, think in thought, and mean 
 in mind your needful meaning and speech that ye 
 spake and said, that ye would have English transla- 
 tion of Ranulph of Chester's Books of Chronicles. 
 Therefore I -will fond' to take that travail, and make 
 English translation of the same books, as God grant- 
 eth me grace. For blame of backbiters will I not 
 blinne* for envy of enemies, for evil spiting and speech 
 
 1 c6nfessgr a alert. s engage^ try, endeavour. 
 * cease, stop.
 
 TREVISA. 31 
 
 of evil speakers will I not leave 1 to do this deed: for 
 travail will I not spare. Comfort I have in needful 
 making and pleasing to God, and in knowing that 1 
 vote* that it is your will. 
 
 For to make this translation clear, and plain, to be, 
 known and understanden, in some place, I shall set 
 word for word, and active for active, and passive for 
 passive a-row, right as it standeth, without changing 
 of the order of words. But in some place I must 
 change the order of words, set active for passive, and 
 agaimcard* ; and in some place I must set a reason 
 for a word, and tell what it meaneth. But for all 
 such changing, the meaning shall stand and not be 
 changed. But some words and names of countries, 
 of lands, of cities, of waters, of rivers, of mountains 
 and hills, of persons, ahd of places, must be set and 
 stand for themselves in their own kind; as Asia, 
 Europa, Africa, and Syria ; Mount Atlas, Sinai, and 
 Oreb ; Marah, Jordan, andArmon; Bethlem-, Naza- 
 reth, Jerusalem, arid Damascus ; Hannibal, Rasin, Ah- 
 suerus and Cyrus ; and many such words and names. 
 If any man make of these Books of Chronicles a bet- 
 ter English translation and more profitable, God do 
 him meed *. And by cause ye make me do this meed- 
 ful 6 deed, he that quitdh* all good deeds, quite your 
 meed" 1 , in the bliss of heaven, in wealth and liking 
 
 1 omit. 3 know. 3 contrariwise. 4 reward him. 
 s wwhy of reward 6 raquiteth. ~ give yon your reward.
 
 THE VIS A. 
 
 with all the holy saints of mankind, and the nine .or* 
 ders of angels ; as angels, archangels, principates, 
 potestates, virtutes, dominations, thrones, cherubin 
 and seraphin, to see God in his blissful face in joy 
 withouten any end. Amen. 
 
 Of the Manners of the ancient Irish. Chap. 34,fol. 34. 
 
 Solinus saith that men of this land ben strong of 
 nation, houseless, and great fighters ; and account 
 right and wrong all for one thing, and ben single of 
 clothing, scarce of meat, cruel of heart, and angry of 
 speech, and drinketh first blood of dead men that ben 
 slain; and then weshen 1 their visages therewith, and 
 holden them paid with flesh and fruit instead of mete,'* 
 and with milk instead of drink ; and use much pla}-- 
 ing, idleness and hunting; and travail full little. In 
 their childhood they ben hard nourished and hard fed; 
 and they ben unseemly of manners and of clothing . 
 and have breech and hosen all of one wool; and strait 
 hoods that stretcheth a cubit over the shoulders be- 
 hind ; and foldings instead of mantles and of cloaks. 
 Also they use no saddles, boots, ne spurs when they 
 lide; but they drive their horses with a chambrcd 
 ycrdc 3 in the one end. Instead of bits with treach- 
 <?s, and of bridles of rccst, they use bridles that let 
 
 1 wash. * meat. 3 chamferred yard.
 
 TREVISA, 33 
 
 hot their horses to eat their meat. They fight un- 
 armed, naked in body; nathekss 1 with two darts and 
 spears and with broad sparthes*, they fight with one 
 hand. 
 
 These men forsake tilling of land, and keepen pas- 
 ture for beasts. They use long beards and locks hang- 
 ing down behind their heads. They use no craft of 
 flax, of wool, of metal, ne of merchandize, but give 
 them to idleness and to sloth, and reckon rest for 
 f iking 3 and freedom for riches. And Scotland, the 
 daughter of Ireland, use harp, tymbre * and tabor. Ne~ 
 thelcssj Irishmen be cunnihg in two manner instru- 
 ments of musics in harp, and tymbre that is armed 
 with wire and strings of brass ; in which instruments, 
 though they play hastily and swiftly, they make right 
 merry harmony and melody with t/<ycke s tunes and 
 warbles and notes ; and begin from bemoll and play 
 secretly under dim sound, under the great strings, and 
 turn again unto the same ; so that the greater part of 
 the craft 6 hideth the craft; as it would seem, as 
 though the craft so hid, should be ashamed if it were 
 take. These men ben of evil manner in their living; 
 they pay no tithes ; they wed unlawfully ; they spare 
 not their allies 1 ; but the brother weddeth the bro- 
 ther's wife. They ben busy for to betray their neigh- 
 
 i nevertheless. * sparthe, an axe or halbert ; (Du Cange,) sfcurh 
 Danlca. 3 pleasure. *tymbrcl. s those. 6 art. 'kindred. 
 
 VOL. i. D
 
 54 tREVISA. 
 
 hours and other ; they bear sparthes in their hands 
 instead of staves, and fight against them that trust 
 most to them. These men ben variable and unsted- 
 fast, treacherous, and guileful. Who that dealeth 
 with them needeth more to be ware of guile, than of 
 craft, of peace than of brcnnynge brondcs 1 , of honey 
 than of gall, of malice than of knighthood. They 
 have such manners, that they ben not strong in wars 
 and in battle we true in peace. They become gos- 
 sybs to them that they will falsely betray in the gos- 
 sybrede and holy kindred. Ereryche* drinketh other's 
 blood when it is shed. They love some deal their 
 norycc 3 and their plctyfers, which that suck the same 
 milk that they sucked while they were children* 
 And they pursue their brethren, their cousins, and 
 their other kin, and despisen their kin whiles they 
 live, and avenge their death when they ben slain. 
 So long hath the usage of evil customs endured among 
 ihem, that it hath gotten the mastery over them, and 
 turned treason into kind*, so far forth that they ben 
 traitors by nature. And aliens and men of strange 
 lands that dwell among them, followen their man- 
 ners that unnetht* there is none but he is besmytted 6 
 with their treason also. Among them many men 
 pissen sitting, and women standing. 
 
 1 fire-brands. a each. 3 nturlee, nurse. < nature. 
 s scarcely. 6 tainted.
 
 TREVISA. 35 
 
 Tliere ben many men in that land foul shapen in 
 limbs; they lack the benefice of kind. So that now 
 here ben none better shapen than they that ben there 
 well shapenj and none worse shapen than they that 
 ten evil shapen; And skilfully nature, hurt and de- 
 fouled by wickedness of living, bringeth forth such 
 gromcs 1 and evil shapen of them, that with unlawful 
 dealing, with foul manners and evil living, so wick- 
 edly defouleth kind and nature. 
 
 In 'this land and in Wales, old wives and women 
 were wont and ben, as men say en*, oft for to shape 
 themself in likeness of hares, for to milk their neigh- 
 bours' kine* and steal her* milk. And oft greyhounds 
 runnen after them and pursue them. 
 
 Much of the ahove account of the Customs 
 and Manners of the Irish, was plainly taken 
 from Giraldus Barri's Topography of Ireland. 
 Tliis superstition of old wives (or witches,) 
 turning themselves into hares, and being pur- 
 sued by greyhounds, &c. is still popular in the 
 western counties of England, and probably in 
 .others. 
 
 On the subject of witches, I can present the 
 reader with a story, which places in a very strik- 
 
 > gromc, offspring ? Also a man servant. * say. 
 3 cows. * their.
 
 36 I'REVISA. 
 
 ing light, the possible illusion of the imagina- 
 tion, under the influence of superstitious opi- 
 nion. It may be proper to premise, that a 
 witch, in her quality of night-mare, is stiled, in 
 our popular superstition, a /tag; and that con- 
 sequently, a person troubled with the night- 
 mare, is said to be hag-ridden. 
 
 About fifty years ago, there lived, at a village 
 in Somersetshire, an old woman, who was ge- 
 nerally reputed a witch. Her body was dry, 
 and bent with age * she supported her feeble 
 steps with crutches. Her voice was hollow, of 
 mysterious, though hypocritical solemnity, and 
 from her eye proceeded a glaring and a pierc- 
 ing light, which fixed the beholder in silent 
 dread. Around the blazing, hearth many a 
 tale was told, and every tale believed, of goods 
 stolen and cattle slain, by more than human 
 means how she prophesied of ill to come, and 
 dire mishap; and that whatever was foretold in 
 her dark forebodings, was sure to come to pass; 
 how, often on the back of lusty cat, or broom- 
 stick vile, she traversed with lightening speed 
 the fields of air, to work her witcheries in fo-: 
 reign lands. No one had doubt she had do- 
 ings with the devil. 
 
 A young man of the same village, at the age
 
 TREVISA. 37 
 
 4>f one or two and twenty, and in the full vi- 
 gour of health, began to receive all of a sud- 
 den the visits of the night-mare, every night 
 as regularly as he went to bed. The sittings 
 were so weighty and so long continued, that 
 his health was soon materially affected. In the 
 course of three or four months, from a strong 
 and ruddy youth, he became feeble, pale, and 
 emaciated ; and finally exhibited the external 
 symptoms of a person in a deep decline. Nei- 
 ther he, however, nor his neighbours, to whom 
 he communicated his case, had any doubts re- 
 specting the real cause of his sufferings. 
 
 In spite of the fears of superstition, he was a 
 man of great resolution. He was resolved to 
 lie in wait for the hag, awake. He resolved and 
 re-resolved ; but unfortunately, was always op- 
 pressed by sleep before the critical hour, At 
 length he succeeded. He continued broad 
 awake; when, at dead of night, he distinctly 
 heard on the stairs, the sound of footsteps 
 softly and cautiously ascending. He was all 
 alive. He put his hands from under the bed- 
 clothes in readiness to grasp his prey. She 
 reached the foot of the bed, ascended, and 
 proceeded gently and gradually along either 
 leg. Advanced beyond the knee, she was pre-
 
 38 TREVISA. 
 
 paring to fall, with her leaden weight upon 
 his breast. In an instant, he leapt towards her, 
 seized her with both his hands by the hair, and 
 held her with convulsive strength. At the 
 same moment, he vociferated to his mother, 
 who slept in an adjoining ropm, <' Mother, I 
 hate caught the hag, bring me a light." The 
 mother, in certain faith, flew down stairs for a 
 candle. 
 
 Meanwhile, the contest continued with fu-r 
 rious violence between the son and hag, who 
 dragged him out of bed ; and the struggle was 
 then continued on the floor, with unabated rage. 
 The candle was now kindled ; but on the very 
 first glimmer of its rays on the stair-case, the 
 hag, with a supernatural force, tore herself from 
 his grasp, and vanished like lightning from his. 
 eager eyes. He was found by his mother 
 standing on the floor of the chamber, almost 
 breathless with the efforts he had used, and 
 with both his hands full of hair. 
 
 On hearing the story, I eagerly inquired for 
 the locks of hair. He replied, without the 
 slightest surprise or embarrassment : " Ay ! 
 I was much to blame for not keeping the hair : 
 for that would have identified her person be- 
 yond dispute. But in the hurry of my feelings,
 
 TREVISA. S9 
 
 I let it drop on the floor; and she took espe- 
 cial care I should never see it more. But I so 
 overhauled her, on this occasion, that she re- 
 turned no more to torment me. It is curious, 
 (said he,) that while I had her in my grasp, and 
 was struggling with her, tho* I felt convinced 
 who she must he, yet her breath, and the whole 
 of her person, appeared to me like those of a 
 blooming young woman." 
 
 The person to whom this very singular inci- 
 dent happened is still alive. I have heard the 
 substance of the story, more than once, from 
 his own mouth, and can therefore vouch for 
 the truth of the effect, whatever we may think 
 of the cause. 
 
 On the different Languages of the InJuibitants of Bri- 
 tain. Chap. 59,fol. 54. 
 
 As it is knowen how many manner people ben in this 
 island, there ben also many languages. Netheless, 
 Welchmen and Scots that ben not medled 1 with other 
 nations, keep nigh yet their first language and speech ; 
 but yet tho Scots that were sometime confederate and 
 dwelled with Picts, draw somewhat after their speech. 
 But the Flemmings that dwell in the west side of Wales, 
 
 1 mixed.
 
 40 fREVISA. 
 
 have left their strange speech, and speaken like the 
 Saxons. Also Englishmen, tho* they had fro the 
 beginning three manner speeches, southern, northern, 
 and middle speech, in the middle of the land, as they 
 come of three manner people of Germania, netheless, 
 by commixyon 1 and meriting* first with Danes, and af- 
 terwards with Normans, in many things the country 
 language is appayrcd 3 . For some use strange wlaf- 
 fyngc, chythring, harrying, and grysbi/tinge. This ap- 
 pairing* of the language cometh of two things ; one 
 . is by cause that children that goon 5 to school, learn 
 to speak first English, and then ben compelled to con- 
 strue their lessons in French; and that have ben 
 used syn* the Normans came into England. Also 
 gentlemen's children ben learned and taught from 
 their youth to speak French ; and uplandish men will 
 counterfeit and liken themselves unto gentlemen, and 
 aren besy 7 to speak French for to be more set by. 
 "Wherefore it is said by a common proverb, " Jack 
 would be a gentleman, if he could speak French." 
 
 Trevisa proceeds : 
 
 This manner was much used before the gre^t 
 death ; but syt/i it is some deal changed : for Sir 
 John Cornwall, a master of grammar, changed the 
 teaching in grammar school, and construction of 
 French into English ; and other schoolmasters use 
 
 ' commixture. a mingling. 3 impaired. 4 impairing, s go. 
 6 since. ? are busy.
 
 TREYISA. 41 
 
 the same way now, in the year of our Lord 1365, th& 
 9th year of king Richard II. and leave all French in 
 schools, and use all construction in English; wherein 
 they have advantage one way, that is, that they learn 
 to sooner 1 their grammar ; and in other, disadvantage: 
 for now they learn no French, ne core 3 none; which 
 is hurt to them that shall pass the sea. And also 
 gentlemen have much left to teach their children to 
 speak French. 
 
 Ranulph. It seemeth a great wonder that Eng- 
 lishmen have so great diversity in their own lan- 
 guage in sound and in speaking of it, which is all n 
 one island. And the language of Normandy is cornen 
 out of another land, and hath one manner sound 
 among all men that speaketh it in England : for a 
 man of Kent, southern, western, and northern men, 
 speaken French all like in sound and speech; but 
 they cannot speak their English so. 
 
 Trcrisa. Netheless, there is as many divers man- 
 ners of French in the royalme 9 of France, as is divers 
 English in the royahne of England. 
 
 R. Also of the foresaid tongue, which is departed* 
 in three, is great wonder: for men of the east with 
 men of the west, accorden better in sounding of their 
 speech, than men of the north with men of the south, 
 Therefore it is, that men of Mercii, thai ben ofmiddk 
 
 ^ for the tooncr. a know. 3 realm. 4 divided.
 
 4C5 TREV1SA. 
 
 England, as it were partners with the ends, under- 
 standen better the side languages, northern and, 
 southern, than northern and southern understandeth 
 either other. 
 
 W. All the languages of the Northumbres, and 
 especially at York, is so sharp slytting, frotynge and 
 wnshape, that we southern men may unncth under^ 
 standen that language. I suppose the cause be, that 
 they be nigh to the aliens that speak strangely. 
 And also by cause that the kings of England abide 
 and dwell more in the south country, than in the 
 north country. The cause why they abide more in 
 the south country than in the north country, is by 
 cause there is better corn land, moo 1 people, moo no- 
 ble cities, and moo profitable havens in the south 
 country than in the north. 
 
 Of the Manners of this (the Welch) nation. Chap. 60. 
 
 For the manners and the doing of Welchmen and 
 of Scots ben tofore somewhat declared ; now I pur- 
 pose to tell and declare the manners and the condi- 
 tions of the medli/d* people of England. But the 
 Flemmings that ben in the west side of Wales ben 
 now turned as they were English, because they 
 
 * * more. 5 mixed.
 
 TREVISA. 45 
 
 company with Englishmen. And they ben mighty 
 and strong to fight, and ben the most enemies that 
 Welshmen have, and use merchandize and clothing, 
 and ben all ready to put themselves to aventures and 
 to peril in the sea and land, by cause of great win- 
 ning ; and ben ready some time to go to the plow, 
 and some time to deeds of arms, when place and 
 time axeth. It seemeth of these men a great. won- 
 der, that in a boon 1 of a wether's right shoulder, 
 when the flesh is sodden away and not roasted, they 
 know ti/idt it ha-ie be done a , is done, and shall be 
 done, as it were by a spirit of prophecy, and of 
 wonderful craft. They tell what is done in far 
 countries, tokens of peace or of war, the state of 
 the royalmc, slaying of men, and spouse-breech^. 
 Such things they declare certainly of .tokens and 
 signs, that be in such a shoulder boon, 
 
 JR. But the Englishmen that dwellen in England, 
 and bm medled in the island, and benferre * fro the 
 places that they sprung of first, turnen to contrary 
 decds lightly s , without enticing of any other men, 
 by their own assent. And so uneasy also, full im- 
 patient of peace, enemy of besynes 6 , and full of sloth. 
 W. de Pon, libra 3. saith, that when they have 
 destroyed her enemies all to ground, then they fight 
 
 1 bone. 2 what has been done. 3 matrimonial infidelity. 
 4 far. s easily, capriciously. 6 business.
 
 44 TKEVISA. 
 
 with themself, and uleet/i 1 each other, as a void and a 
 empty stomach wyrchcth * in itself. 
 
 R. Nctficlcss men of the south ben easier and more 
 mild than men of the north : for they be more vusta- 
 !>/< 3 , more cruel, and more uneasy. The middle men 
 ben some deal partners with both. Also they use 
 them to gluttony more than other men, and ben more 
 costlier in meat and clothing. Me supposed that 
 they took that vice of king Hardekunt, that was a 
 Dane : for he hete * set forth twice double mess at 
 dinner and at supper. Also these men ben speedful 
 on horse and foot, able and ready to all manner deeds 
 of arms, and ben wont to have victory and mastery 
 in every fight, where no treason is walking; and ben 
 curious, and can well tell deeds and wonders that they 
 have seen. Also they goo in divers lands ; itnncth 
 bcu any men richer in their own land, or more gra- 
 cious inferre and strange lands. They can better win 
 and get new, than keep their own heritage. There- 
 fore it is that they be spread so wide, and ittwe* that 
 every land is their own. The men be able to all 
 manner sleight and wit ; but before the deed, blunder- 
 ing and hasty ; and more wise after the deed ; and 
 leas-eth off lightly 6 what they have begun. Pali/, libra 
 sexto. Therefore Eugcnius, the Pope, said that Eng- 
 
 1 slay. 2 tiyrcJietli, from -merke, to worke or fret. 
 
 3 inflammable, passionate. Bordered, commanded [to be]. 
 
 s imagine. 6 easily, capriciously.
 
 TREVISA. 4o> 
 
 lislmieii were able to do whatsdme'ver they "-would, 
 and to be set and put before aH other, ne werftfuit 
 tight -wit lettcth 1 . And as Hannibal said that the llo? 
 mans might not be overcome, but in their -own coun- 
 try ; so Englishmen wiozre 3 not be over.ome in strange- 
 lands ; but in her own country they be lightly over- 
 come. s --" 
 R. These men despisen their own, and ^raiss otl.c r 
 men's, and unneth ben pleased ncr s apat/ed* with their 
 own estate. What befalleth and becometh other men, 
 they will gladly take to themself. Therefore it is 
 that a yemun 5 arrajeth him as a squire ; a squire as a 
 knight ; a knight as a duke ; a duke as a king. Yet 
 some goo about, and like to all manner state, and ben 
 in no state; for they that will take every degree, lie 
 of no degree. 
 
 This information relative to the Manners of 
 the Welch, is chiefly taken from Giraldus de 
 Barri, as the reader will readily discover by con- 
 sulting that author. It is dispersed through seve- 
 ral chapters in the last part of the work, which 
 contains a description of Wales and its inha- 
 bitants. A splendid edition of Giraldus Cam- 
 brensis, in two elegant volumes quarto, has beeu 
 lately given to the public, by Sir Richard Colt 
 
 1 This phrase probably means " nor were they to be diverttd 
 
 from their purpose by any ordinary capacity or obstacle. 
 
 a may. 3 nor. appeased, satisfied. 5 yeoman.
 
 Hqate, transited into English, and illustrated 
 , vie,ws, annotations, and a life of the au- 
 
 .The Poli/rhromcon was continued by Cax- 
 jtcn,, frf>ryl357 to 1460, the first year of Ed- 
 ward 1^. being a period of one hundred and 
 three years. For this undertaking he assigns 
 the following reasons : 
 
 e< For as much as syth the accomplishment 
 of this said book, made by the said Ranulph; 
 ended the year of our Lord 1357', many things 
 have fallen which ben requisite to be added to 
 this work, because men's wits in their time ben 
 oblivious and lightly forget many things digne l 
 to be put in memory ; and also there cannot be 
 found in these days, but few that write in their 
 registers such things as daily happen and fall; 
 therefore, I William Caxton, a simple person, 
 have endeavoured me to write first over all the 
 said book of Polychronicon, and somewhat have 
 changed the rude and old English, that is to 
 \vir, certain words which in these days be nei- 
 ther used, ne understood. And, furthermore, 
 
 1 worthy.
 
 TREVISA. 47 
 
 have put in emprint, to the end that it may be 
 had, and the matters therein comprised, to be 
 known> for the book in general touching shortly 
 many notable matters; and also am avised to make 
 another book after this said work, which shall be 
 set here after the same, and shall have his chap- 
 ters and his table apart: for I dare not presume 
 to set my book we join it to his^ for divers causes.- 
 One is, for as much as 1 have not, we can get no 
 books of auctority treating of such Cronykes,* 
 except a little book named Fasciculus Tempo- 
 ram, and another called Aureus de Universe, in 
 which books I find right little matter syth the 
 said time. And another cause is, for as much 
 as my rude simpleness and ignorant making,- 
 ought not to be compared, set, we joined to his 
 book. Then I shall, by the grace of God, set 
 my work after, apart, for ,to accomplish the 
 years syth that he finished his book, unto the 
 year of our Lord, 1460, and the first year of 
 the reign of king Edward IV. which amount to 
 103 years." 
 
 This complaint of Caxton, of the want of 
 proper sources of information obviously arose 
 from the scarcity of books before trie iuven- 
 
 1 Chronicles.
 
 43 TREVISA; 
 
 lion of printing. Besides, the fifteenth cell* 
 tury was peculiarly barren of good writers, par- 
 ticularly of history. Yet, even in that age, 
 there were authors in manuscript (though Cax-> 
 ton was not so fortunate as to get access to 
 them, nor even knew of their existence,) from 
 whom might have been derived far more am- 
 ple documents. Such are Froissard;. R. Aves- 
 bury; Tit. Livius; T. de la More; J. Rosse ; 
 H. Kuyghton ; J. Walsingham ; J. Wetheram ; 
 J. Otterborne ; &c. Sac. By the invention of 
 printing, these authors are become more ex- 
 tensively known than at the time of their writ- 
 ing. 
 
 What Caxton says of Trevisa's Translation 
 remarkable. In the course of a hundred and 
 wenty years, the time which had elapsed be- 
 tween that translation and its being printed by 
 him, it appears that the language had under- 
 gone such alterations, that many words used 
 by Trevisa had ceased to be employed, and even 
 to> be understood. This great change was 
 especially promoted by the renowned poets 
 Chaucer and Gower, to whom the early im- 
 provement of our language is chi/efly to be at- 
 tributed. 
 
 Caxton, however, did not escape censure fa*
 
 TREVISA. 49 
 
 changing what he deemed the obsolete lan- 
 guage : for says he : 
 
 " Some gentlemen blamed me, saying, that 
 in my translations, I have over-curious terms, 
 which could not be understand of common 
 people, and desired me to use old and homely 
 terms in my translations. As I fain would sa- 
 tisfy every man, so to do, I took an old book 
 and read therein; but certainly the English 
 was so rude and broad, that I could not well 
 understand it. Also, the Lord Abbot of West- 
 minster did do shew to me late certain evi 
 dences written in old English, for to reduce it 
 into our English then used ; but it was written 
 in such wise, that it was more like to Dutch 
 than English ; so that I could not reduce, tie 
 bring k to be understonden. And certainly, our 
 language now used, vary eth far from that which 
 was spoken, when I was born ; for we Englishmen 
 ben born under the domination of the moon, 
 which is never stedfast, but ever wavering; 
 waxing one season, and waneth and decreaseth 
 another season. And common English that is, 
 spoken in one shire^ varyeth from another." 
 
 As a confirmation of this last assertion, he 
 tells the following story : 
 
 " In my days (says he) happened, that cer- 
 VOL. i. E
 
 50 TREV1SA. 
 
 lain merchants were in a ship in Tamyse *, for 
 to have sailed over the sea into Zealand ; and 
 for lack of wind, they tarried at Foreland, and 
 went to land for to refresh them. And one of 
 them, named Sheffelde, a mercer, came into an 
 house, and axed for meat, and specially he 
 axed for eggs. And the good wife answered 
 that she could speak no French. And the 
 merchant was angry, for he could speak no 
 French, but would have had eggs, and she un- 
 derstood him not. And then, at last, another 
 said that he would have eyren. Then, the 
 good wife said, that she understood him well." 
 
 On this Caxton exclaims : 
 
 " Lo ! what should a man in these days now 
 write eggs or eyren, certainly it is hard to please 
 every man, because of diversity and change of 
 language : for in these days, every man that is in 
 any reputation in his country, will utter his 
 communication and matters, in such manners 
 and terms, that few men shall understand 
 them. 
 
 Again he informs us, "That some honest and 
 great clerks had been with him, and desired 
 him to write the most curious terms that he 
 could find. And thus (says he) between plain, 
 
 1 Thames.
 
 TREVISA. 51 
 
 rude, and curious, I stand abashed. But, in 
 my judgment, the common terms that be daily 
 used ben lighter 1 to be understand than the old 
 and ancient English." 
 
 He therefore concluded, * e for a mean be- 
 tween both ; and to reduce and translate into 
 our English, not over rude ne curious> but iri 
 such terms as should be uriderstood > by God's 
 grace, according to his copy." 
 
 Caxton introduces his own performance with 
 a short prologue. Incipit liber ultimus. 
 
 " Thence following this fore written book of 
 Polychronicon, I have emprized to ordain this 
 new book, by the sufferance of Almighty God, 
 to continue the said work briefly ; and to set in 
 historical things such as I have can get, from 
 the time that he left, that was in the year of 
 our Lord one thousand three hundred and se- 
 ven and fifty, unto the year of our said Lord, 
 a thousand four hundred and sixty, and to the 
 first year of the reign of king Edward IV." 
 
 This additional book consists of thirty-three 
 chapters, and concludes thus : " And here I make 
 an end of this little work, as nigh as I can find, 
 after the form of the work tofore made by Ra- 
 nulph, monk of Chester. And whereas there 
 
 i easier. 
 E2
 
 53 TREV1SA. 
 
 is fault, I beseech them that shall read it, t? 
 correct it : for if I could have found more sto- 
 ries, I would have set in it more ; but the sub- 
 stance that I can find and know, I have shortly 
 set hem in this book, to the intent, such things 
 as have been done syth the death, or end of the 
 said book of Polychronicon, should be had in 
 remembrance, and not put in oblivion, tie forget- 
 ting; praying all them that shall see this simple 
 work to pardon me of my simple and rude wri- 
 ting. Ended the second day of July, the 22d year 
 of the reign of king Edward IV. and of the in- 
 carnation of our Lord a thousand four hundred 
 four score and twain. Finished by Caxton." 
 
 Higden had filled his margins with chrono- 
 logical tables, in double and triple columns. 
 These were probably omitted in the copy 
 which Caxton followed, as they were left un- 
 printed by him. In some of the printed co- 
 pies, therefore, those tables are found written 
 throughout with red ink, perhaps with his own 
 hand. * 
 
 Wynkin de Worde, in his edition of the Eng- 
 lish Polychronicon, in 1495, says, that in imi- 
 tation of his master Caxton, " He had added 
 such stones as he could find, from the end that 
 Ranulph finished his book, which was in 1357,
 
 TREVISA. 53 
 
 unto the year 1495, which ben 138 year." In the 
 Cottonian library is a manuscript of the latter 
 part of this history, which ends in 1326, and is 
 continued by some unknown hand, to the 15th 
 of king Richard II. or 1392. 
 
 We owe considerable obligations to Trevisa, 
 in his being one of the first to give a literary 
 currency to his native language. He was not 
 merely the translator of the Polychronicon, but 
 of the Old and New Testament, and at the in- 
 stance of the same munificent patron^ Lord 
 Berkely ; though it does not appear that any 
 copy of this translation now remains. It is 
 mentioned by Caxton, in the preface to his 
 edition of the English Polychrpnicon. He was 
 moreover the translator of several other works ; 
 as Bartholomew Hautville, de Proprietatibus 
 Rerum, lib. 19, printed by Wynkin de Worde, 
 1494, folio : and Vegetius de Arte Militari. See 
 also more of his translations in MSS. Hari 
 1900.
 
 WICLIFFE. 
 
 JOHN WICLIFFE, the memorable English Re- 
 former, was born in the parish of WiclifTe, 
 near Richmond, in Yorkshire. He was edu- 
 cated at Oxford, where he obtained distin- 
 guished academical honours, having been ele- 
 vated successively to the Mastership of Baliol 
 College, to the Wardenship of Canterbury Hall, 
 and to the Professorship of Divinity in that 
 University, This last promotion he obtained in 
 1372. 
 
 In his professorial capacity, he found his 
 province invaded, and the privileges of the 
 University violated, by the pretensions of the 
 Mendicants; and at first only gratified his just 
 resentment by throwing out some censures 
 Upon the several orders of friars; in which, 
 however, he could not forbear touching upon 
 the usurpations of the pope, their great patron 
 and abettor. For this he was deprived of the 
 wardenship of .his college by the archbishop 
 of Canterbury, who substituted a monk in his 
 place ; upon which he appealed to the pope, 
 who, by way of rebuke for the freedom with
 
 WICLIFFE. 55 
 
 which he had treated the monastic orders, con- 
 firmed the archiepiscopal sentence. Wicliffe, 
 now more exasperated than ever, gave full 
 scope to his indignation, and attacked without 
 distinction, hoth in his sermons and other 
 pieces, not only the whole body of the monks, but 
 the encroachments and tyranny of the church 
 of Rome, with other ecclesiastical corruptions. 
 In the year 1365, we find the name of Wic- 
 liffe first mentioned in the annals of our coun- 
 try. It was on occasion of the demand of 
 pope Urban V. for the payment of the arrears 
 of the tribute of one thousand marks per 
 annum, imposed upon the country by king 
 John ; and the payment of which had been 
 neglected since the year 1333. Wicliffe seized 
 this opportunity to write against the papal de- 
 mand, in opposition to an English monk, who 
 had published in its defence. This recom- 
 mended him to the particular notice of the 
 king, Edward III. who conferred upon him se- 
 veral benefices, , and employed him in various 
 embassies. He was one of the commissioners 
 in the ecclesiastical congress at Bruges, in the 
 year 1374, which was appointed to settle the 
 long-disputed question of the papal provisions 
 and reservations, Here, from his intercourse
 
 56 WICLIFFE. 
 
 with the envoys of Gregory XL he gained new 
 light as to the policy and maxims of the church 
 of Rome ; and on his return the year following, 
 he began to expose the whole system of the 
 Romish hierarchy; openly declaring that the 
 pope was Anti-Christ and that Man of Sin 
 of whom St Paul and St. John prophesied; and 
 proceeded to combat the various superstitious 
 doctrines of the papal church. For this stre- 
 nuous opposition to the pope, he was cited, in 
 1377j before the upper house of convocation, 
 to answer to a charge of heresy ; though he was 
 protected from catholic fury by the generous 
 interference of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancas- 
 ter, who had before procured for him the living 
 of Lutterworth, in Leicestershire. As this prince, 
 however, had patronised Wicliffe from political 
 motives, he subsequently withdrew his patron- 
 age on finding that the reformer contended 
 against errors and usurpations purely religious, 
 Wicliffe laboured zealously and incessantly 
 to disseminate his doctrines, and his success 
 was wonderful. It is affirmed by the monkish 
 historian Knighton, his cotemporary and inve- 
 terate enemy, that more than one half of the 
 people of England became his followers. And 
 such was the persecuting enmity which ac*
 
 WICLIFFE. 57 
 
 tuated the catholics at this almost miraculous 
 effect of his preaching, that in 1382, through the 
 instrumentality of Courtney, archbishop of 
 Canterbury, letters patent were obtained from 
 the king, addressed to the university of Oxford, 
 requiring them within seven days from the re- 
 ceipt of this order, to banish him and his ad- 
 herents from the university, and to suppress 
 all books and writings which favoured the new 
 heresy. He survived his expulsion only two 
 years, when he died at his living at Luttenvortb, 
 by a stroke of the palsy, in the year 1384. 
 
 His inveterate enemies, the catholic clergy, 
 betrayed an indecent joy at his death, and the 
 council of Constance, thirty years after, de- 
 creed that his bones should be taken up and 
 thrown on a dunghill an act of impotent ma- 
 lice, which was not executed till 1428, on oc- 
 casion of a bull for that purpose from pope 
 Martin V. 
 
 The writings of Wicliffe, which are chiefly 
 in MS. were very voluminous. After his death 
 they were condemned by various councils, and 
 burnt wherever they could be found. It is 
 said by Job. Coccles, (Hist. Hussit.) that Sub- 
 ynco Lepus, archbishop of Prague, in Bohemia, 
 where his doctrines made great progress, pub-
 
 58 WICLIFFE. 
 
 licly burnt more than 200 volumes of them, 
 adorned with costly covers and gold bosses. 
 About the same time many of his books were 
 likewise burnt at Oxford. But the works of 
 Wicliffe were so multiplied, that all these at- 
 tempts of bigotted malice were impotent to 
 annihilate perhaps any one of his numerous 
 compositions. Bishop Bale, who flourished in 
 the 16th century, affirmed that he had seen 
 about 150 treatises of Dr. Wicliffe, some of 
 them in Latin, and others in English, besides 
 many translations of several books. Many of his 
 tracts were first published in Latin, and after- 
 wards in English. To give even a catalogue of* 
 his works, would far exceed the bounds proper 
 to allot to this article ; but the curious reader 
 is referred to the Qth chapter of Lewis's Life 
 of Wicliffe, from which work this account has 
 chiefly been drawn. The fullest catalogue, 
 however, of his writings, is that of bishop Tan- 
 ner, in his Bibliotkeca Hibernica. 
 
 It has been already observed, that the first 
 objects of his religious censures, were the men- 
 dicant friars, whose numbers and encroach- 
 ments had increased at this period to an alarm- 
 ing degree. That the uninformed reader may 
 form a more correct idea of the justice of these
 
 WICLIFFE. 59 
 
 censures, I shall extract the following brief ac- 
 count of these orders of friars from Mr. Ellis : 
 
 " In consequence of the many abuses which 
 had gradually perverted the monastic institu- 
 tions, it became necessary, about the begin- 
 ning of the thirteenth century, to establish a 
 new class of friars, who, possessing no regular 
 revenues, and relying for a subsistence on the 
 general reverence which they should attract by 
 superior talent, or severer sanctity of manners* 
 should become the effectual and permanent 
 support of the papal authority against those he- 
 resies which were beginning to infect the 
 church, as well as against the jealousy of the 
 civil power. The new institution consisted of 
 four mendicant orders : the Franciscans, who 
 were also called friars-minors, or minorities, or 
 grey-friars : the Augustine, or Austin-friars : 
 the Dominicans, or friars-preachers, or black- 
 friars : and the Carmelites, or white-friars. 
 
 For the purpose of quickening their zeal, the 
 popes bestowed on them many new and un- 
 common privileges; the right of travelling 
 where they pleased, of conversing with persons 
 of all descriptions, of instructing youth, and of 
 bearing confessions, and bestowing absolution 
 without reserve : and as these advantages na-
 
 6D WICLIFFE. 
 
 tnrally attracted to the privileged orders all the 
 novices who were distinguised by zeal or talent, 
 excited their emulation, and ensured the re- 
 spect of the people, they quickly eclipsed all 
 their rivals, and realised the most sanguine 
 hopes that had been entertained from their esta- 
 blishment. 
 
 " The mendicant orders of the thirteenth and 
 fourteenth centuries, but particularly the Do- 
 minicans, very nearly resembled the Jesuits of 
 modern times. In these orders were found the 
 most learned men, and the most popular 
 preachers of the age. The almost exclusive 
 charge of the national education enabled them 
 to direct the public taste and opinions; the 
 confessional chair placed the consciences of 
 their penitents at their disposal; and their 
 leading members, having discovered that an as- 
 sociation in which individual talents are syste- 
 matically directed to some general purpose is 
 nearly irresistible, soon insinuated themselves 
 into the most important offices of church and 
 state, and guided at their will the religion and 
 politics of Europe. But prosperity, as usual, 
 made them indolent and impudent. They had. 
 long been envied and hated, and the progress 
 of general civilization raised up numberless ri-
 
 WJCLIFFE. 61 
 
 vals, possessing equal learning, ambition, and 
 versatility of manners, with superior activity 
 and caution. They quarrelled among them- 
 selves, and thus lost the favour and reverence 
 of the people ; and they were at last gradually 
 .sinking into insignificance, when they were 
 swallowed up in the general wreck of monastic 
 institutions. 
 
 " The magnificence of their edifices, which 
 excited universal envy, was the frequent topic 
 of Wicliffe's invective." 
 
 Wicliffe thus exposes their practice of in- 
 veigling the youth of the University into their 
 convents : 
 
 Freres 1 , (says he) draweth children from Christ's re- 
 ligion, into their private order, by hypocrisy, lesinga*, 
 and stealing. For they tellen that their order is 
 more holy than any other, and that they shoulden have 
 higher degree in the bliss of heaven than other men 
 that bin not therein, and seyn that men of their order 
 should never come to hell, but should dome other 
 men with Christ at doomsday. And so they stealen 
 children fro fader and moder, sometime such as bejt 
 unable to the order, and sometime such as shoulden 
 sustain their fader and moder, by the commandment 
 1 Friars. 2 lying.
 
 62 
 
 of God ; and thus they ben blasphemers taking upon 
 full counsel in doubly * things that ben not expressly 
 commanded ne forbidden in holy writ; sith such 
 councel is appropred* to the Holy Ghost, and thus 
 they ben therefore cursed of God as the Pharisees 
 were of Christ, 
 
 The number of scholars in the two Univer- 
 sities in the thirteenth century was prodigious* 
 The famous Richard Fitz-Ralph, archbishop 
 of Armagh, in an oration against the mendi- 
 cant friars, pronounced before the pope and 
 cardinals in 1357, declares that in his time, the 
 number of students had diminished from 30,000 
 to 6000, in the University of Oxford. This 
 astonishing diminution he attributed to the arts 
 of those friars, who enticed so many young men 
 into their monasteries, that parents were 
 afraid to send their sons to the University. 
 
 Of the ignorance of the clergy of his time, 
 he assures us ; 
 
 That there were many unable curates that kunnen 3 
 not the ten commandments, ne read their sauter, ?ie 
 understand a verse of it. Nay, that it was then no- 
 
 * doubtful, a appropriated. 3 knew.
 
 WICLIFFE. 63 
 
 torious that too many even of the prelates were sin- 
 ners, in their being ignorant of the law of God, and 
 that the friars supplied for the bishops the office of 
 preaching, which they did in so false and sophistical 
 a manner, that the church was deceived instead of 
 edified. 
 
 The priests being too lazy and too ignorant 
 to preach, excused themselves by saying that 
 ie Men shoulden cease of preaching, and gevea 
 to holy prayers and contemplation, for that hel- 
 pen more Christian men, and is better." 
 
 To this Wicliffe replies 
 
 That true men seyn l boldly that true preaching is 
 better than praying by mouth, yea tho' it come of 
 heart, and clean devotion ; and it edifieth more the 
 people ; and therefore Christ commanded specially the 
 apostles and disciples to preach the gospel, and not to 
 close them in cloisters, ne churches, nc. stoves, to 
 pray thus. Thus preaching is algates* best ; aefhc- 
 less, devout prayer of men of good life is good in cer- 
 tain time, but it is against charity for priests to pray 
 evermore, and no time to preach, siih Christ charg- 
 eth priets more for to preach the gospel, than to say 
 mass or matins. 
 
 ' sty. * always.
 
 64 WICLIFFE. 
 
 He afterwards exclaims 
 
 Lord! what charity is it to a cunning man to 
 chese 1 his own contemplation in rest, and suffer other 
 men to go to hell for breaking of God's hests 9 , when 
 he may lightly teach them, and get more thank of 
 God in little teaching, than by long time in such 
 prayers ! Therefore priests shoulden study holy writ, 
 and keep it in their own life, and teach it other men 
 truly and freely, and that is best and most charity ; 
 and in certain times pray devoutly, and have sorrow 
 for their sins, and other mens. And then they 
 shoulden be as the firmament over little stars, in com- 
 parison, of other saints in heaven. 
 
 Of Monachism he thus speaks ; blaming 
 
 Some priests for unwisely taking a vow of chas- 
 tity, and defouling wives, widows, and maidens ; (and 
 observes that) sith fornication is so perilous, and men 
 and women ben so frail, God ordained priests in the 
 old law to have wives, and never forbid it in the 
 nevr law, neither by Christ, ne by his Apostles, but 
 rather approved it. But now by hypocrisy of feuds 
 and false men, many binden them to priesthood and 
 chastity, and forsaken wives by God's law, and shen* 
 d?n 3 maidens and wives, and fallen foulest of all. For 
 many ben priests, and religious in doing and other, 
 
 1 choose. * commands. 3 hurt, wrong, violate.
 
 WICLIFFE. 66 
 
 for to have lustful life and easy, young and strong of 
 complexion, and faren well of meat and drink, and 
 \vollen not travail neither in penance, ne study of 
 God's law, ne teaching, TIC labour with their hands, 
 and therefore they fallen into lechery in divers de- 
 grees, and in sin against kind 1 . 
 
 Of Absolution. 
 
 Worldly prelates blasphemen against God, the fa- 
 ther of heaven, for they taken upon them power that 
 is specially and only reserved to God; that is, assailing * 
 of sins, and full remission of them. For they taken on 
 them principal assailing of sins, and rnaken the people 
 to believe so, when they have only assorting as vicars or 
 massagers*, to witness to the people that God asspilcth 
 for contrition ; and else neither angel, ne man, ne God 
 himself ussoileth, but if ike sinner be contrite, that is, 
 fally have sorrow for his sins, and have will rather 
 to suffer loss of cattle and worldly friendship, and 
 house, and bodily death, than to do wittingly against 
 commandment and will. And they chargen more 
 their own assailing, than assoiling of God. For if a 
 man come to their schrifs * and sacraments, they a&- 
 soilen him, and maken him sicker,* though the man 
 lie upon himself, and be not assailed of God. And 
 
 1 nature. a loosing, absolving. 3 messengers. 
 
 * confessions. 5 sure. 
 
 TOL. I. F
 
 C6 AV1CL1FFF. 
 
 though a man be never so assorted of God for his en- 
 tire sorrow for sin, and charity that he hath now to 
 God, they scy/i l that he is damnable, but //'he be as- 
 KoUcd of them, if he have space thereto, tho' they 
 ben cursed heretics and enemies of Christ and his 
 people. And thus they taken little reward to God r 
 when he saith, " in whatever time a sinful man hath 
 entire sorrow for his sins, he shall be safe." These 
 prelates shoulden preach this contrition and mercy of 
 God, and joys of heaven, and the peril of schrift, 
 withouten repentance; and foulness of sins, and great 
 pains of hell, and righteousness of God, to make the 
 people to flee sin, and keep truly God's command- 
 ments, and not deceiven them by their own power of 
 assailing, nc by false pardon, ne false- prayers, and 
 other noi-clries* besides God's law. 
 
 Of Confession!. 
 
 Confession made to true priests, and witty in 
 God's law, doth much good to sinful men, so that 
 contrition for sins before done, come therewith, and 
 good life, and keeping God.'s hests, and works of 
 mercy done to poor men, sue after^ 
 
 Of the Eucharist. 
 
 Tne Eucharist is the body of Christ in the form of 
 'say. 2 novelties.
 
 VVICLIFFE. 
 
 67 
 
 bread. The right faith of Christian men is this, 
 that this worshipful sacrament is bread and Christ's 
 body, as Jesu Christ is very God and very man ; and 
 this faith is grounded in Christ's own word in the 
 Gospel of St. Mathew; Mark, Luke, and by St. Paul, 
 and plainly in holy writ; and thereto accordeth rea- 
 son and wit at the full. 
 
 After this he cites the words of the insti- 
 tution from the Gospels, and from St. Paul; 
 subjoining also several passages from the fa- 
 thers, and then concludes in these words: 
 
 Then sitJi these auctorities of Christ and his apos- 
 tles, ben algatcs soth l , and also auctorities of these 
 saints and clerks, sitk they accorden with holy writ 
 and reason, say we that this sacrament is very bread, 
 and also very Christ's body ; and teach we this 
 true belief to Christian men openly, and let lords 
 maintainen this truth as they are bounden upon pain 
 of damnation, sitk it is openly taught in holy writ, 
 and by reason and wit. And dainnen we of this cursed 
 heresy of Anti-Christ, and his hypocrites, and world- 
 ly priests, saying that this sacrament is neither 
 bread- ne Christ's body. For this is not taught in 
 holy writ, but [is] fully against St. Austin, and holy 
 saints, and reason and wit. 
 
 1 always truth. 
 F 2
 
 ()8 M'tCUFFE. 
 
 Li the time of Wicliffe, it was ordered in the 
 university of Oxford, that priests and curates 
 should not read the scriptures till they were 
 of nine or ten years standing; and some papists 
 went so far as to assert (probably from their 
 hatred to WiclifTe,) "that the decrees of bi- 
 shops in the church, are of greater authority, 
 weight, and dignity, than is the authority of 
 the scriptures." In reply to this, Wicliffe af- 
 firms, that 
 
 Christian men and women, old and young, should- 
 en study fast in the New Testament, and that no 
 simple man of wit should be ofcrdc unmeasurably to 
 study in the text of holy writ; that pride and cove- 
 tisse of clerks, is cause of their blindness and heresy, 
 and priveth them fro very understanding of holy 
 writ. That the New Testament is of full autority, 
 and open to understanding of simple men, as to the 
 points that ben most needful to salvation ; that the 
 text of holy writ ben word of everlasting life, and 
 that he that keepeth meekness and charity, hath the 
 true understanding and perfection of all holy writ ; 
 that it seemeth open heresy to say that the Gospel 
 with his truth and freedom sufficeth not to salvation 
 of Christian men, without keeping of ceremonies and 
 statutes of sinful men and uncunning, that ben made 
 in the time of Satanas and of Anti-Christ ; that
 
 WICLIFFE. GO 
 
 ought to desire only the truth and freedom of the 
 holy Gospel, and to accept man's law and ordinances 
 only in as much as they ben grounded in holy scrip- 
 ture, either good reason and common profit of 
 Christian people. That if any man in earth, either an- 
 gel of heaven teacheth us the contrary of holy writ, 
 or any thing against reason and charity, we should 
 flee from him in that, as fro the foul fiend of hell, and 
 hold us stedfastly to life and death, to the truth and 
 freedom of the holy Gospel of Jesus Christ ; and take 
 us meekly men's sayings and laws, only in as much 
 as they accorden with holy writ and good consciences; 
 no further, for life, neither for death. 
 
 , WiclifFe seized all occasions of exposing the 
 corruptions of the church ,of Rome, and the 
 shameless vices of the clergy, both regular 
 and secular ; but no part of his conduct excited 
 their rancour so much, as his undertaking to 
 translate the scriptures into English. They 
 affirmed, " It is heresy to speak of the holy 
 scripture in English." 
 
 And so (says AVi'cliffe) they would condemn the 
 Holy Ghost, that gave it in tongues to the apostles 
 of Christ, as it is written, to speak the word of God 
 iji all languages that were ordained of God under hea- 
 ven, as it is written.
 
 7O WICLIFFE. 
 
 Again,, he complains 
 
 Tlrilk ' that have the key of conning *, have y-locked 
 the truth of thy teaching under many wards, and 
 y-hidfro thy children. 
 
 He gives his reasons for this great under- 
 taking, in the form of an apology. 
 
 Lord God! slthin at the beginning of faith, so many 
 men translated into Latin, and to great profit of La- 
 tin men ; let one simple creature of God translate 
 into English, for profit of Englishmen. For, if 
 worldly clerks look well their chronicles and books, 
 they shoulden find, that Bede translated the Bible, 
 and expounded much in Saxon, that was English, ei- 
 ther 3 common language of this land, in his time. 
 And not only Bede, but king Alfred, that founded Ox- 
 enford, translated in his last days, the beginning of 
 the Psalter into Saxon, and would more, if he had 
 Jived longer. Also Frenchmen, Bemcrs* and Britons, 
 Jian 5 the bible and other books of devotion and expo- 
 sition translated into their mother language. Why 
 shoulden not Englishmen have the same in their mo- 
 ther language ? I cannot wit 6 . No, but for falseness 
 *nd negligence of clerks, either for 1 our people is not 
 worthy to have so great grace and gift of God, in 
 pain of their old sins. 
 
 1 those. a knowledge. 3 or, * Bohemians. 5 have; 
 6 know, or tell. ' or because.
 
 \VICLIFFE. 71 
 
 As the several translations of the scriptures 
 had very considerable influence on the early 
 progress, as well as on the subsequent esta- 
 blishment, of our language, I shall perhaps be 
 excused for introducing in this place, a brief 
 account of those versions which existed prior 
 to Wicliffe. It is asserted by Fox, the mar- 
 tyrologist, in the preface to his Saxon copy of 
 the four Gospels, published in 1571, from a 
 MS. in the Bodleian library, that Bede not 
 only translated the whole Bible into Saxon, but 
 also, not long before his death, the Gospel of 
 St. John into tbe English of his time ; that Al- 
 fred translated both the Old and New Testa- 
 ment into his native language; that if histo- 
 ries were well examined, it would be found 
 that before the conquest and after, as likewise 
 before Wicliffe and since, the whole body of 
 scripture was translated, by sundry persons, into 
 English ; and that Arundel, archbishop of York, 
 and chancellor of England, at the funeral ser- 
 mon of queen Anne, who died in 1394, af- 
 firmed that princess to have had the Gospels in 
 the vulgar tongue, with divers expositions upon 
 the same, which 1 she sent to him to be ex- 
 amined. 
 
 it may be proper to remark upon this ab-
 
 72 WICLIFTE. 
 
 stract, that the English language as spoken at 
 present, did not begin to be formed till several 
 centuries after the Anglo-Saxon version of 
 Bede,who died in 734 ; and that the version of 
 the Gospels last-mentioned, as in the posses- 
 sion of queen Anne, was probably that of Wic- 
 liffe, as he died ten years before that prin- 
 cess. 
 
 There was, however, a metrical version of 
 the scriptures in French, mentioned by War- 
 ton, in his History of English Poetry, made 
 about the year 1200 ; and one in prose, by 
 Mace, in 1343; and another also in verse by 
 Ilaoul de Presles, in the year 1380. From the 
 intimate connection of the English and French, 
 and from the circumstance of the French 
 tongue being the language of the court, at this 
 period, those versions were very possibly known 
 to some of the higher ranks in England. But 
 the lower orders were unable to read even in 
 their vernacular language; and from the ge- 
 neral ignorance which hence prevailed, the 
 impudence and selfish policy of the monks, 
 were busy in propagating the opinion, that 
 it was unlawful for any but priests to read 
 the scriptures. Yet, in spite of this terrific 
 dogma, Richard Rolle, hermit of Ham pole,
 
 VVICLIFFE. 73 
 
 in Yorkshire, who died in 1349, had the cou- 
 rage to translate the Psalter, and the hymns of 
 the church, into English ; and he has the ho- 
 nour of heing the first who rendered a portion 
 of the contents of this venerable volume into 
 his vernacular language. He also wrote a gloss 
 
 o o o 
 
 in English, upon the Psalter; of which there 
 is a somewhat different translation in the Har- 
 Ician library, also with a gloss ; and in the 
 King's library another, from psalm 89, to 118. 
 At the end of the MS. of Hampole's Psalter, 
 in Sidney College, Cambridge, follow the 
 Canticles translated and commented on, as the 
 book of Psalms. 
 
 It seems likewise, that some parts, if not the 
 whole of the JSew Testament, were also trans- 
 lated by different persons, and glossed and ex- 
 plained in the same manner. In the MS. library 
 of Bennet College, Cambridge, is a gloss, in the 
 English, spoken after the conquest, on the follow- 
 ing books of the New Testament ; viz. the Gos- 
 pels of St. Mark and St. Luke, the Epistles to the 
 Romans, Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, 
 Philippians, Colossians, Thessalonians, Ti- 
 mothy, Titus, Philemon, and Hebrews; among 
 which is inserted, between the Epistles to the 
 Colossians and Thessalonians, the Apocryphal
 
 7t -VTICLIFFE. 
 
 Epistle to the Laocliceans. The comment 
 which accompanies this version, resembles that 
 of Hampole ; being for the most part mystical 
 and allegorical. 
 
 Whether Trevisa's version, before men- 
 tioned, consisted of the whole Bible, or merely 
 of some particular portions of it, is doubtful; 
 though the latter supposition is the most pro- 
 bable. 
 
 These translations, then, of parts of the Old 
 and New Tes lament, no t of the whole Bible, were 
 all made before Wicliffe began to flourish. It 
 is probable, too, that they were not published ; 
 but designed merely for the translator's own use. 
 
 That the reader may form some idea of these 
 several versions, I shall transcribe the Magni- 
 ficate, as a specimen from each. 
 
 Hampole. 
 
 My soul worships the Lord, and my ghost joyed 
 in God, my hele . 
 
 For he looked on the meekness o* his hand- 
 maiden. 
 
 Lo ! for why ; of that, blissful me shall say all ge- 
 nerations. 
 
 For he hath done to me great things, that mighty 
 is, and his name haly *. 
 
 1 health. * holy.
 
 WICLIFFE. 75 
 
 And the mercy of him fro kinredcn to kinredcns, to 
 tho dreaden him. 
 
 He did might in his arm, he scattered the proud 
 fro the thought of her heart. 
 
 lie did down the mighty off settle l , and he hegfad* 
 the meek. 
 
 The hungerund 3 he fulfilled of goods, and the rich he 
 left tome*. 
 
 He received Israel his child, he is umthovght 5 of his 
 mercy. 
 
 As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to hia 
 seed in worlds. 
 
 MS. Bennet. 
 
 My soul hogis 6 or lofys God, and my spirit joyed 
 God my heal. 
 
 For he has beholden the meekness of his hand- 
 maiden. 
 
 Lo ! therefore blessed me shall say all generations. 
 
 For he hath done great things, for he is mighty, 
 and holy tho fame of him. 
 
 And his meray from progeny to progeny to tho 
 dreaden him. 
 
 1 seat. 2 hegh, or high ; to raise, or exalt. 3 hungry. 
 
 4 empty ? s mindful. 
 
 6 fogy, to %*, raise, or exalt. 1 lofy > to lofty, raise, or exalt.
 
 76 WlCLIFtfE. 
 
 Me made power in his arm, he sparbyfde 1 tfio proud 
 in thought of their heart. 
 
 He down put the mighty off settle, and he hcghed 
 Iho meek. 
 
 7V/o hungry he filled with goods, and tlio rich ho 
 left void. 
 
 He took Israel hi$ child umtJiought of his mercy. 
 
 As he spake to our fathers, Abraham and seed of 
 him in worlds. 
 
 MS. Sydney. 
 
 My 'soul magnifieth the Lord, and my spirit hath 
 gladed in God mine health. 
 
 For he hath heholden the meekness of his hand- 
 maiden. 
 
 Lo forsooth ! of this, all generations sc/iokn* say me 
 blessed. 
 
 For he that is mighty hath done to me great 
 things, and his name is holy. 
 
 And his mercy fro kindred to kindred, to men 
 dreading him. 
 
 He made might in his arm, he scattered proud 
 men with mind of his heart. 
 
 He putted down mighty men fro seat, and en- 
 hansed meek. 
 
 He hath fulfilled hungry men with good things, and 
 hath left rich men void. 
 
 1 scattered. shall.
 
 WICLIFFE. 77 
 
 He having mind of his mercy, took up Israel his 
 child. 
 
 As he hath spoken to our fathers, to Abraham, and 
 to his seed into worlds. 
 
 "Wicliffe's translation, in which he was as- 
 sisted by several of his followers, probably oc- 
 cupied the last ten years of his life. As he 
 was not sufficiently acquainted with the He- 
 brew and Greek to translate from them, his 
 version was made from the vulgate, of which he 
 collated numerous copies. His method of 
 translating was literal, or word for word, as 
 had been done before, in the Anglo-Saxonic 
 translation, without much attention to the dif- 
 ference of idiom in the two languages. Hence, 
 this version, in some places, is not very intel- 
 ligible to those who are unacquainted with the 
 Latin. Wiclifte seems to have done this by 
 design ; since, in a prologue to his Psalter, he 
 says, " They who know not the Latin, by the 
 English, may come to many Latin words." It, 
 should be observed too, that the vulgate text 
 from which Wicliffc translated, though col- 
 lated from numerous copies, differed, in many 
 places, frojn the established vulgate of modern
 
 78 XVICL1FFL. 
 
 times. Of this translation, several MS. copies 
 still exist in the libraries of onr Universities, in 
 the British Museum, and in other public and 
 private collections. In St. John's College in 
 Oxford is a MS. of the Old Testament, said to 
 be of Wicliffe's own writing, which ends with 
 the Second Book of Maccabees. I shall give 
 a specimen from this, as before quoted bj 
 Lewis. 
 
 Exod. xx. 
 
 And ye 1 spake all ycse* words, I am ye 3 Lord 
 God, yat* lad ye out of yc land of Egypt, fro ye house 
 of sci'vagc*. You shalt not have alien Gods before 
 me. You shalt not make to yc, a graven image, 
 neyir 6 any likeness of ying 1 * which is in heaven above, 
 and which is in earth beneath, neither of yo yingis * 
 yt ben 9 in waters- under earth. You shalt not hcrie. 
 yo w , neycr you shalt worship. 
 
 Lerit. xxvi. 
 Ye shukn n not make to you an idol, and a graven 
 
 'he. a these. 3 the, * that. s bondage. e neither. 
 
 "thing. 8 those thirrgs. sthatare. 10 master them, i. e. treat 
 
 them as masters, or superiors. u shall.
 
 WICLIFFE. 79 
 
 image; neyer ghe* sjiukn raise tytlis *; it is an- 
 tcsiss for idolatry; neyer g/ie shulen set a noble 
 . stone in your land, that ye worship it. 
 
 Deutero. v. 
 
 You shalt not have alien Gods in my sight. You 
 shalt not make to ye a graven image, neyer a like- 
 ness of all yinges yat ben in heaven above, and yat 
 ben in earth beneath, and yat liven in waters under 
 earth. You shalt not hcrie them, and thou shalt riot 
 worship hem. 
 
 To the several books of the New Testament, 
 Wicliffe prefixed the prologues or prefaces of 
 St. Hierome, as they are vulgarly called, with 
 additions of his own. His New Testament 
 was published in 1731, fol. by Lewis, with a 
 history of the English translations of the Bible j 
 from which work this account of them has been 
 chiefly abstracted. A short specimen will suf- 
 fice to give the reader an idea of the manner 
 in which it is executed. 
 
 Rom. chap. viii. v. 28, 29, 30. 
 
 And we vital* that to men that love God, all 
 
 1 y. standing images. 3 author, cause? *know.
 
 80 WICLIFFE. 
 
 thing is work en together into good, to them that af- 
 ter purpose ben depid* saints. For thilke* that IIP 
 knew before, he before ordained by grace, to be 
 made like to the image of his Son, that he be the 
 first begotten, among many brethren. And thilkc. 
 that he before ordained to bliss, them he dcpcd ; and 
 which he dcpcd, them he justified ; and which he 
 justified, them he glorified. 
 
 The most outrageous abuse was bestowed upon 
 Wicliffe by the Catholic party,, for thus ena- 
 bling the multitude to draw at the fountain of 
 their faith. Henry Knyghton, canon of Leices- 
 ter, his cotemporary, thus speaks of his labours. 
 " This Master John Wicliffe. translated out of 
 Latin into English, the Gospel, which Christ 
 had entrusted with the clergy and doctors of 
 the church, that they might minister it to the 
 laity and weaker sort, according to the exigency 
 of times, and their several occasions. So that 
 by this means, the Gospel is made vulgar, and 
 laid more open to the laity, and even to wo- 
 men, who could read, than it used to be to the 
 most learned of the clergy, and those of the 
 best understanding. And so the Gospel jewel,. 
 
 i cajled. * that.
 
 WICLIFFE. 81 
 
 or Evangelical pear], is thrown about and 
 trodden under foot of swine." 
 
 Tliis is a mild specimen of Catholic rage. 
 The general alarm, however, among the clergy 
 was so great, that in the 13th of Richard II. a 
 hill was brought into the House of Lords for 
 suppressing it ; but was opposed in so firm 
 a tone by the renowned duke of Lancaster, 
 that it was thrown out. 
 
 Some of the followers of Wicliffe, encouraged 
 by his success, undertook to review his transla- 
 tion, or rather to make another, which was Jess 
 literal, but more comformable to the sense. Of 
 this version also, various MS. copies exist in 
 our public libraries. 
 
 In the age of Wicliffe, the orthodox divines 
 commonly wrote in Latin. But the sentiments 
 he was so zealous to promulgate, could not 
 have been sufficiently diffused, if he had con- 
 fined himself to a learned language ; and to give 
 his arguments their utmost influence by ren- 
 dering them intelligible to the bulk of the peo- 
 ple, he was compelled to write, as well as to 
 speak, in the vernacular tongue. His quarrel 
 with the pope, therefore, in addition to the 
 more important consequences it involved, may 
 b considered as highly auspicious to English 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 W1CLIFFE. 
 
 literature : for bis influence with his cotempo- 
 traries, arising from his talents and pre-eminent 
 learning, aided by the contagious nature of the 
 sentiments he was ambitious to disseminate, 
 greatly contributed to give diffusion to that 
 fashion in the use of the English, which had al- 
 ready begun to prevail, and which was subse- 
 quently established by the exertions of Chau- 
 cer and Gower. Another circumstance which 
 tended to give currency to the national dialect, 
 was that Edward III. regarding the Norman 
 tongue as a badge of conquest, abolished it in 
 the public acts and judicial proceedings, and 
 substituted the language of his country. 
 
 Wicliffe surpassed all the learned men of his 
 age in extent and variety of knowledge. In- 
 deed, his great learning and general superiority 
 were allowed even by his enemies. He was 
 eminently skilled in all the logical subtleties of 
 the schools, and as a disputant was unrivalled. 
 He had a profound knowledge of the civil and 
 canon law, as well as of our own municipal laws. 
 But his studies were more particularly directed 
 to theological learning; and he not only trans- 
 lated the scriptures into English, but wrote 
 notes, expositions, and homilies, upon various 
 parts of them. His character was marked by
 
 WlCLIFFE. S3 
 
 iety> benevolence, and ardent zeal ; to which 
 was added, great gravity, and even austerity 
 of manners, befitting the first champion of re- 
 ligious liberty. 
 
 After his death, his followers, by way of re- 
 proach, were stiled Lollards*. 
 
 It is not easy to know what were the opi- 
 nions of Wicliffe on some important points, as 
 they appear to have fluctuated in several parti- 
 culars, as is usual in the pursuit of truth; andia 
 a few instances were evidently modified by his 
 various persecutions. But his opinions in the 
 
 * The term Lollard, according to the canonist Lyndw6od, is 
 d*rived from the Latin word lolium, which signifies a cockle ; 
 because that weed is injurious to the corn, among which it 
 grows ; infdix lolium. Georg. Thus the Lollards, if we are to 
 believe the Catholics, corrupted and injured the good inten- 
 tions of those with whom they had intercourse. To this deri- 
 vation of the word, Chaucer alludes in the following lines : 
 This Lollar here woll preache us somewhat, 
 He wolde sowin some difficultie, 
 Or spring in some cockle in our clene dbrn. 
 
 Squired Prologue. 
 
 Others derive the name from one Walter Lolhard, a Ger- 
 man. Beausobre Dissert, sur Adamites, $c. Others, again, 
 from Lullard, or Lollards, the praises of God ; a sect so named, 
 which was dispersed through Brabant. Plctcte Oration. [See 
 Lewis's Life of Reynold Pecocke.] 
 G 2
 
 84 
 
 main, derived from his examination of the 
 scriptures, and his researches into ecclesiasti- 
 cal antiquity, resembled those of the reformers 
 of the l6th century : though in some points he 
 went even further than they. In addition to the 
 sentiments contained in the ahove extracts, he 
 maintained that the clergy ought to possess no 
 estates ; that the numerous ceremonies of the 
 church of Rome, are injurious to true piety ; 
 that oaths are unlawful ; and what is very re- 
 markable, that the church is dependent on the 
 state, and ought to be reformed by it. Yet, af- 
 ter all his innovations, it must be allowed that 
 his sentiments are deeply coloured by the su- 
 perstition of his age. He was an advocate for 
 the Calvinistic doctrines of grace, predestina- 
 tion, &c. Sec. 
 
 But it were unjust to try Wicliffe by the test 
 which would be proper for a public character 
 of modern times. We. must consider the age 
 in which he lived oppressed and enslaved by 
 the baleful superstition of the Romish church, 
 and still overshadowed by the thick darkness 
 spread over the nations since the irruption of 
 the Gothic barbarians and we shall acknow- 
 ledge, that his services to mankind were incal- 
 culable. In respect of the two points, 1. Of op-
 
 WICLIFFE. 8* 
 
 position to the friars, 2. Of those particular en- 
 croachments of the pope, by which he super- 
 seded the ecclesiastical constitutiop of every 
 country, disposing at his pleasure of benefices 
 and dignities throughout Christiandom Wic- 
 liffe had precursors in St. Amour, Fitzralph 
 archbishop of Armagh, and Grostete bishop 
 of Lincoln. But he .was the first to throw off 
 the trammels of implicit faith, and to teach his 
 countrymen and the world, to judge for them- 
 selves ; and his unwearied exertions sowed the 
 seeds of that auspicious revolution in religion, 
 which, about a century and half after, ar- 
 rived at full maturity. His design was to pro- 
 duce a revolution in the morals as well as in 
 the religion of mankind ; and he has the glory 
 of giving an impulse to the soul, which will 
 progressively augment to the end of time. 
 
 Should it be thought that I dwell too long 
 upon a writer so antiquated, and whose works 
 are not likely even to be consulted, except by 
 the curious, I would beg leave to observe, that to, 
 those who delight to contemplate the progress 
 of the human species in knowledge and re- 
 finement, nothing will be uninteresting in the 
 character and conduct of those who have taken 
 the first steps in this important process, how-
 
 86 WICLIFFE. 
 
 ever low those steps may be placed in the 
 imaginary scale of perfection. In all stages of 
 society, those unquestionably deserve the 
 highest praise, who outstep the rest of their cor 
 temporaries ; who rise up in solitary majesty 
 amidst a host of prejudices and errors, combat- 
 ing intrepidly on one side, though assailed 
 and weakened on another. The merit consists 
 in setting the example ; in exhibiting a pattern 
 after which others may work. It is easy to 
 follow, when there is one to lead ; but to be the 
 first to strike out into a new and untried wayj, 
 in whatever state of society it may be found, 
 marks a genius above the common order. Such 
 men are entitled to everlasting gratitude.
 
 ( 87 ) 
 
 CHAUCER, 
 
 WE come now to the renowned poet and emi-* 
 nent scholar GEOFFREY CHAUCER ; and as 
 the recorded particulars of his life are not nu- 
 merous, and are besides of a description cal- 
 culated to illustrate the manners of the age, I 
 shall give them at some length ; premising, 
 that the account is borrowed almost exclusively 
 from Mr. Godwin's late work. 
 
 Chaucer, from the original inscription on his 
 tomb-stone, died in 1400, aged 72. He was 
 therefore born in 1328 ; and himself has in- 
 formed us that his birth-place was London. 
 His father was probably a merchant. In his 
 " Court of Love," a poem 'which he published 
 at the age of eighteen, he speaks of himself as 
 *' Philogenet of Cambridge, Clerk ;" hence it 
 may be prevsumed, that he passed some of the ' 
 later years of his education at that university ; 
 though it is affirmed on the authority of Le- 
 land, and Hkewise inferred from some colla- 
 teral evidence, that he afterwards removed tQ 
 Oxford.
 
 5R CHAUCER. 
 
 After leaving this university, he spent seve- 
 ral years in France, where he became complete 
 master of the language and literature of the 
 country. His residence in Paris was some time 
 between the years 1347 and 1355. On his re- 
 turn to England, he entered as student of the 
 Inner Temple. This is affirmed by Leland, 
 and is likewise inferred from the authority of 
 a record mentioned by Speght, in his Life of 
 Chaucer, as seen by one Master Buckley; 
 -which states, that " Geoffrey Chaucer was 
 fined two shillings for beating a Franciscan 
 friar in Fleet-street." It does not appear, how- 
 ever, that he ever practised the law. 
 
 From the 30th year of his age, Chau- 
 cer was a courtier a distinction which he 
 owed to his poetical talents. As early as the 
 year 1359, he had a house assigned him by his 
 sovereign, at Woodstock, where he spent the 
 greater part of his life. From his connection 
 with the court, it is not improbable that he had 
 some share in the education of the young duke 
 of Lancaster, who subsequently became his 
 constant friend and patron. 
 
 In the year 1359, he accompanied the expe- 
 dition of Edward III. to France; a fact which 
 is concluded from the circumstance of his be-
 
 CHAUCER. . 89 
 
 ing examined as a witness in a cause of arms 
 depending in the Court Military, between sir 
 Richard le Scrope and sir Robert Grovenor, 
 in 1386, and his deposing, that he had already 
 " borne arms twenty-seven years." He closed 
 . his military career, however, with the peace of 
 Bretigni, the year "following. 
 
 In 1367, he obtained from Edward III. by 
 the title of Valettm hospitii, an annual pension, 
 for life, of twenty marks, for services perform- 
 ed, or to be performed ; or-till the king should 
 otherwise dispose of ,him, as expressed in the 
 grant. This was his first pecuniary favour 
 from the court, which (estimated at eighteen 
 times the value,) is equivalent to 2401. of our 
 money. 
 
 In the year 1370, he was married to Philippa 
 Rouet, or more probably Philippa Pycard de 
 Rouet, and sister of Blanche, wife of the duke 
 of Lancaster. The same year he was sent on a 
 special mission to France, the object of which 
 is unknown ; and three years after was associ- 
 ated with sir James Pronan, vice-admiral of 
 the Genoese auxiliaries, and John de Mari, a 
 citizen of Genoa, in an embassy to that repub- 
 lic, for the purpose of agreeing upon some 
 town or spot, on the sea coast of our island, at
 
 gO CHAUCER. 
 
 which the Genoese might establish a regular 
 factory. After having discharged his commis- 
 sion, he made the tour of the northern states of 
 Italy, and visited Petrarca, who read to him his 
 version of the tale of Grisildis, of which Chau- 
 cer took a copy. Petrarca also introduced 
 him to an acquaintance with the works of 
 Boccaccio, and did not survive his interview 
 with the British hard more than a twelve- 
 month. 
 
 Chaucer, on his return the following year, re- 
 ceived a grant of a pitcher of wine per diem, to 
 be delivered daily in the port of the city of 
 London,, by the king's, chief butler, during the 
 term of his natural life. The pitcher here men- 
 tioned is supposed equal to a modern gallon,, 
 and the annual value of the wine about 101. 
 equal in modern money to 1801. About six 
 weeks after, he was appointed comptroller of 
 the duties of customs in the port of London ; 
 but in consequence of the intrigues and con- 
 vulsions of the reign of Richard II. he forfeited 
 this office. 
 
 The next year, the wardship of Edmund Sta- 
 plegate, a minor, was conferred upon him by 
 the crown. This was a grant of some impor- 
 tance, as it committed to him the custody of
 
 CHAUCER. 91 
 
 all the estates which devolved to his ward by 
 the death of his father ; together with his ma-, 
 ritagium, or the fee paid by a tenant holding 
 immediately from the crown, for the royal 
 consent, in case he married while a minor. 
 Such wardships, by the feudal institutions, be- 
 longing to the crown, were often conferred by 
 the king as boons on his principal favourites. 
 The heir finally redeemed the rights conferred 
 on Chaucer, for the sum of 1041. equal to 1 ,8721. 
 Sterling. 
 
 The next favour conferred upon him was a 
 grant of contraband wool, forfeited to the 
 crown, in value 7ll. 4s. 6d. equal to 1,2621. Is. 
 of modern money. In 1377, Chaucer, in con- 
 junction with sir Guichard Dangle, and sir 
 Richard Stan, or Sturry, was appointed a com- 
 missioner for treating of the marriage of Ri- 
 chard p.rince of Wales, with a daughter of 
 Charles V. both being children of about ten 
 years of age ; but the treaty failed. 
 
 The day after the death of Edward III. in 
 1378, Chaucer obtained, through the interest of 
 J ohn of Gaunt, the renewal of the grant of the 
 office of comptroller of the customs. His pen- 
 sion was also renewed, under the new king, as. 
 likewise a grant of twenty marks per annum, in
 
 f)2 CHAUCER. 
 
 compensation of the patent of Edward III. en- 
 titling him to a, pitcher of wine daily. More- 
 over, the office of comptroller of small cus- 
 toms in the same port, was conferred upon him 
 in 1382; a boon which is supposed to have 
 been obtained at the request of Ann of Bohe- 
 mia, and to have been the pledge by which she 
 engaged him in her service, and constituted 
 him her poet. 
 
 In the year 1384, there was a contention be- 
 tween the city and the court, respecting the 
 election of a mayor, which the latter had been 
 accustomed despotically to impose upon the 
 citizens, in disregard of tlieir election. This 
 seems to have been part of a plot to ruin John 
 of Gaunt; and Chaucer, from attachment to 
 his patron, as well as from a sense of duty, 
 trarmly defended the citizens against the court; 
 but unable to prevail, he was constrained to 
 fly his country to save his life. He repaired 
 first to Hainault, a.nd afterwards to the pro- 
 vince of Zealand, where he seems to have fixed 
 his principal residence. Here he met with se- 
 veral of his countrymen who had been involved 
 in the late disturbances ; and as his finances 
 were in a better condition than theirs, he ge- 
 nerously and liberally supplied their wants.
 
 CHAUCER. 
 
 His generosity on this occasion, added to the 
 perfidy of his friends in England, who, desert- 
 ing him, withheld fresh supplies, soon exhaust- 
 ed his resources, and he was forced to return to 
 England, after an absence of about two years- 
 He was scarcely arrived, when he was arrested, 
 and committed prisoner, as is supposed, to the 
 Tower. 
 
 During his imprisonment, he was deprived of 
 both his offices of comptroller of the customs 
 in the port of London, and of comptroller of 
 the small customs. He even appears to have 
 suffered great pecuniary distress at this time : 
 for he obtained > in 1388, a patent permitting 
 him to resign the two pensions of twenty marks 
 each, being all that now remained to him of 
 the bounty of the crown, and which he pro- 
 bably exchanged for money to supply his ur- 
 gent wants. 
 
 Chaucer was set at liberty in 1389, probably 
 through the interposition of the queen; though. 
 on conditions, the acceptance of which has 
 fixed, the principal stain upon his character, 
 As the price of his enlargement, he was re- 
 quired to make an ample confession of what 
 were called his misdemeanors, and to impeach 
 his former associates. To this proposal 'he con-
 
 f)4 CHAUCER. 
 
 sented, and as he says himself, in his " Testa- 
 ment of Love," offered to prove the truth of 
 his information, according to the custom of 
 the times, by entering the lists with the parties 
 accused. It is but just to acknowledge, that 
 his conduct in this affair, though far from ho- 
 nourable, will nevertheless admit of consider- 
 able extenuation. It should be recollected that 
 his former friends, by embezzling his income, 
 and cutting off his resources when abroad, had 
 plotted to starve hiiii. He was not influenced) 
 therefore, simply by the overtures of the court, 
 "but stimulated by a natural resentment against 
 treatment thus inhuman. Still the informa- 
 tion in question brought upon him a load of ill 
 will, and the charge of being false, lying, base, 
 and urigratefi.il. 
 
 The same year, he received the appoint- 
 ment of clerk of the king's works, in lieu of 
 that of comptroller of the duties of customs. 
 This office related to the erection, repair, and 
 embellishment of the king's mansions, parks, 
 and domains ; and among our national records 
 is still to be seen a commission addressed to 
 him, of the date of the 12th of July, 1390, for 
 work to be done at St. George's chapel, in the 
 castle of Windsor. The salary attached to this
 
 CHAUCER. 93 
 
 employment, was 2s. per day, or 361. 10s. per 
 annum; in modern money 6571. 
 
 At the age of 63, he resigned his office of 
 clerk of the works, after having enjoyed it 
 about twenty months, and retired to a private 
 station, (probably to his house at Woodstock,) 
 as in the conclusions of the Astrolabie, in 
 which there is the date of the 12th of March, 
 1391, he says, " sufficient for our orizont com^ 
 pounded after the latitude of OxenfoixL" 
 
 After he had been engaged about a twelve- 
 month in the composition of his Canterbuiy 
 Tales, he found himself under the necessity, 
 in 1394, of applying to the crown for some in- 
 crease of resources; and was granted a pension 
 of 201. (in modern money 360\.)per annum, for 
 the remainder of his life. Two years after, 
 John of Gaunt publicly espoused^Catherine, 
 lady Swinford, the sister of Chaucer's wife, 
 with whom he had cohabited twenty years. 
 Chaucer thus became connected in family 
 with his illustrious friend and patron, w^ho pur- 
 chased and bestowed upon him the estate of 
 Donnington castle, near Newbury, in the 
 county of Berks. 
 
 After seven years' retirement, we find him 
 again engaged in public affairs ; though th-f
 
 Q(> CHAUCER. 
 
 precise nature of his office we are left to con- 
 jecture from the description of " a great va- 
 riety of arduous and urgent political transac- 
 tions, to be performed and expedited by Chau- 
 cer, as well in presence as absence of the king, 
 in various parts of the realm." It seems, that 
 in the execution of this office, he was liable to 
 be disquieted, molested, or impeded by cer- 
 tain persons his competitors, and vexed with 
 suits, complaints, and hostility " and to prevent 
 which, a patent of protection was granted him, 
 in 1398, by Richard II. 
 
 In the autumn of the same year, he received 
 a grant of a tun of wine yearly, to be delivered 
 to him by the king's chief butler, in the port 
 of London. At this time, he had probably re- 
 tired again to Donnington castle. 
 
 On the usurpation of Henry of Boling- 
 broke, by the title of Henry IV. Chaucer had 
 his former grants confirmed to him, and also 
 obtained an additional grant of 40 marks per 
 annum; also, his son Thomas was made chief 
 butler to the household, and speaker of the 
 house of commons. In the last year of his life 
 he came to London, where he died the 25th of 
 Oct. 1400. 
 
 Chaucer's fame with posterity rests securely
 
 CHAUCER. 97 
 
 on the merit of his poetical compositions. His 
 prose productions are neither numerous, nor of 
 much importance. 
 
 The Testament of Love, his longest work, 
 was written while he was prisoner in the Tow- 
 er, after he had delivered in his confession 
 and before he was liberated j or about the 
 month of June, 1389- His chief design in 
 this work, was to remove the odium, not to 
 say calumnies, cast upon his character by his 
 desertion and impeachment of his former as- 
 sociates. In his youth, he had translated 
 Boethius De Consolatione Philosophic? > a work 
 which had been composed by the author, while 
 he also was state prisoner, under the reign of 
 Theodoric, king of the Goths. There was 
 some resemblance in the fate of Chaucer, to 
 that of the illustrious Roman a resemblance 
 which he seems to have contemplated with a 
 gloomy satisfaction* 
 
 The work is divided into three books, and 
 is concei\ r ed in allegory. It consists princi- 
 pally of a dialogue between the Prisoner and 
 Love, who visits him in his cell, as Philosophy 
 visited the prison of Boethius, and is chiefly 
 interesting, as yre are enabled to trace in it the 
 anxious workings of the author's feelings in re- 
 
 VOL. i. K
 
 8 CHAUCER. 
 
 i;;ml to his unknown destiny, and as it exhibits 
 a pleasing proof of the resources he found 
 \vithiu himself in the midst of calamity ; though 
 it is by no means remarkable for exhibiting an 
 example of mind superior to events. The stile 
 is mystical and obscure, conformably to the 
 taste of the age in which he lived. The fol- 
 lowing specimen is taken from the first book, 
 and is probably as favourable a one as could be 
 given : 
 
 Rehearsing these things and many other, without 
 time or moment of rest, me seemed for anguish of 
 disease, that altogether I was ravished, I cannot tell 
 how, but wholly all my passions and feelings weren 
 lost, as it seemed for the time, and suddenly a man- 
 ner of dread, light in me all at once, nought 1 such 
 fear as folk have of an enemy, that were mighty^ 
 mid would hem 9 grieve, or dooen hem disease : for I 
 trow this is well know to many persons, that othcrwkils 
 jf 9 a man be in his sovereign's presence, a manner of 
 ferdnessc* creepeth in his hea. : not for harm, but of 
 goodly subjection: namely, as r:.en readen that an- 
 g<'~: been aferde* of our Saviour in heaven. And 
 pardt 6 there nc is, ne may no pa. .on of disease be,, 
 bv.t it is to mean that angels been sdradde 7 , not by 
 
 1 not, s if at any time. < fear, drazd. * afraid. 
 
 7 afraid,
 
 CHAUCER. QQ 
 
 friends of dread, sithen they been perfectly blessed, as 
 affection of wonderfulness, ami by service of obedience; 
 such/mfe 1 also han these !-.vers in presence of their* 
 loves* and subjects^ afbnne* their, sovereigns. Right 
 so with ferdnesse, mine heart \vas caught. And> I 
 suddenly astonicd 9 there entered into the place 
 there* I was lodged, a lady, the scendicki ;* -'and most 
 goodly to my sight, that ever tofjrne 6 appeared to 
 any creature ; and truly in the blustering- of her 
 look, she gave gladness and comfort suddenly to all 
 my wits; and right so she doeth to every wight 
 that cometh in her presence. And for she was so 
 goodly (as methought) mine heart began some deal 
 to be embolded, and next a little hardy to speak ; 
 but yet with a quaking voice, as I durst, I salued 
 her, and enquired- what she was, and why she, so 
 worthy to sight, deigned to enter into so foul a dun- 
 geon, and namely a prison, without leave of my 
 keepers. For ccrto 7 , although the virtue of deeds of 
 mercy, stretchen to visiten the poor prisoners, and 
 hem after that faculties been had to comfort, me 
 seemed that I was so ferrc fallen into misery and 
 wretched hid caitiffhcss 8 , that me should no precious 
 thing neigh 9 ; and also that for sorrow every wight 
 
 should been heavy, and wish my recovery. 
 
 ' 
 1 fear. -before. 3 astonished. 4 for where. 
 
 * the most beautiful. 6 before. " certainly 8 meanness. 
 approach. 
 H2 
 
 '
 
 IOC) CHAUCER. 
 
 But when this lady had some deal apperoeived, as 
 well- by my words, as by iny cheer, what thought 
 busied me 'within with a good womanly counte- 
 nance, she- said these words: O my norit l , weenest' 
 thou that my manner be to foryct* my friends, or 
 my servants? Nay, (quod she,) it is my full intent 
 to visit and comfort all my friendships and allies, as. 
 wrll in time of perturbation, as of most property: 
 of bliss ; in me shall unkindness never be founden. 
 And also sithen I have so few especial true, now in 
 these days, wherefore I may well at more leisure, 
 come to hem that me deserven, and if my coming may 
 in any thing avail, wete* well, I wotl* come often. 
 
 Now good lady (quod I,) that art so fair on to look, 
 raining honey by thy words ; bliss of Paradise arnc* 
 thy lookings, joy and comfort are thy movings 
 What is thy name? How is it that in you is so 
 mokell 6 working virtues ettpight"*, as me seemeth, and 
 in none other creature, that ever saw I .with mine 
 eyen.. My disciple, (quod she,) me wondereth of thy 
 words, and on thce, that for a little disease has/or- 
 yeten my name. IVost* thou not well that I am 
 Love, that first thee brought to thy service? O good 
 lady, (qnod 1,) is this worship to thee, or to thine ex- 
 
 ' 
 i foster-child. a forget 3 know. 
 
 * will. 5 are. 6 much. 
 
 ' infixed, inherent. from pifce, Sax. :o pitch.
 
 CHAUCEB 101 
 
 tellence, to come into so foul a 'place? Ptinh some- 
 time tho'-I was in .prosperity, and with foreign good* 
 envolved, I had'<wc//a/ to doen to draw tbee to my, 
 hostel 1 ; and yet many warnings thou madest, ere 
 thou list fully to grant thine home to make at my 
 dwelling place. Ai\\ now thou comest goodly by 
 thine own vise*, to comfort me with words, and so 
 therethrough I gin remember on passed gladness. 
 Truly, lady, I tie - wot, whether I shall say welcome or 
 none 9 ; sit hen thy coming woll as much Ao me tent* 
 and sorrow, as gladness and mirth. See why: for 
 that me comlbrteth to think on passed gladness 
 that me anoyeth eft 5 to be in doing. Thus thy com- 
 ing both gladdeth and teneth, and that in cause of much 
 sorrow. Lo ! lady, how then I am comforted by 
 your coming! And with that I gan in tears to dis- 
 til, and tenderly weep. Now, ccrtes (quod Love,) I 
 see well (and that me overthinketh,) that wit in 
 thee faileth, and art in point to doat. Truly (quod 
 I,) that have ye maked, and that ever U'oll I rue. 
 Wotttst thou not well (quod she,) that every shep- 
 herd ought by reason, to seek his sperkeland 6 sheep 
 that arne run into wilderness, among bushes and 
 perils, and hem to their pasture at/en 1 bring, and take 
 on hem privy busy cure of keeping ? And tho' the 
 
 ' house. 9 advice, accord. 3 nO) not. * grief. 5 oft 
 scattered. ' again.
 
 ]02 CHAUCER. 
 
 uncunuing sheep scattered would bees lost, renning * 
 to wilderness, and to deserts draw, or else woulden 
 put hfmself to the swalknving wolf; yet 3hall tko 
 shepherd, by business and travail, so put him forth, 
 that he shall not let hem be lost by no way. A good 
 shepherd pulteth rather his life to been lost for his 
 sheep. 
 
 But, for thou shalt not wene* me, being of worse 
 condition, truly for evcrich of my folk, and for all tho 
 tha,t to me ward, be knit in any condition, I voll 
 rather die than suffer hem through error to been spilt 9 . 
 For me list, and it me liketh, of all mine a shepherdess 
 to be cleaped. 
 
 The Parson's Tale concludes the celebrated 
 collection of " The Canterbury Tales/' pro, 
 ductions to which Chaucer is principally in- 
 debted for his fame as a poet and a scholar. 
 The parson is introduced in a very appropriate 
 manner, inveighing against the vices of the age; 
 whence we collect some particulars with re- 
 spect to its manners and usages. 
 
 Alas! may not a man see as in our days, the sinful 
 i running think. 3 lost.
 
 CHAUCER. 1O3 
 
 array of clothing, and namely, in too much 
 superfluity, or else into disordinate scantness. 
 
 As to the iirst sin in superfluity of clothing, such 
 that maketh it so dear, to the harm of the people, 
 nut* only the cost of enbraudering, the disguised en- 
 denting, or barring, oiinding 3 , paling, winding, or 
 bending, and serublable waste of cloth in vanity. 
 But there is also the costlcwe furring in her gowns, 
 so much poirnsi/ig* of chesell 5 to make holes, so much 
 (tagging 6 of sheers forche, with the superfluity in 
 length of the foresaid gownes trailing in the dung 
 and in the mire, on horse and also on foot, as well of 
 man as of woman. That all that trailing is verily 
 as in effect wasted, consumed, threadbare, and rotten 
 with dung, rather than it isyeve 7 to the poor, to great 
 dommage of the foresaid poor folk, and that in sun- 
 dry wise, this is to say, that the more the cloth is 
 wasted, the more must it cost to the poor people for 
 the scarceness. And moreover, if so be that they 
 would ycve such pounced and dogged clothing to the 
 poor people, it is not convenient to wear for her 
 estate, ne sufficient to her necessity, to keep hem 
 from the distemperance of the firmament. * * * * * * 
 
 Now as to the outrageous array of women, God 
 wot, ^hat though the visages of some of hem seem full 
 chaste and debonair, yet notify in her array or attire, 
 
 costly. * not. 3 guarding, like waves. 
 
 * punching with a bodkin. Schissel, bodkin. 
 6 slitting, cutting into slips. ' given.
 
 104 CHAUCER. 
 
 licorousness 1 and pride. I say not that honesty in 
 clothing of man or woman is unco? enable *; but certes 
 the superfluity of disordinate quantity of clothing is 
 reprovable. Also the sin of ornament or of apparel, 
 is in things that appertain to riding, as in company, 
 delicate horses that ben holden for delight, that been 
 so fair, fat and costleivc, and also in many a nice 
 knave 3 that is sustained because of hem, in curious 
 harness, as in saddle, cruppers, peitrels*, and bridles, 
 covered with precious clothing, and rich bars of 
 plates of gold and of silver. For which God saith by 
 Zacharie, the prophet, I teoll confound the riders of 
 such horses. Those folk take little regard of the riding of 
 God's Son of heaven, and of his harness, when he rode 
 upon the ass, and had none other harness but the 
 poor clothes of his disciples ; ne we read not that 
 ever he rode on other beast. I speak this for the 
 sin of superfluity, and not for reasonable honesty, 
 when reason it requireth. ****** 
 
 Pride of the table appeareth also full oft : for certes, 
 rich men be called to feasts, and poor folk been put 
 away, and rebuked. And also in excess of divers 
 meats and drinks, and namely such manner bake 
 meats and dish meats, brenning 9 of wild fire : painted 
 and castled with paper, and semblable waste, so that 
 
 licorishness. * unbecoming. 
 
 a male, a servant, a lacquey. * breast-plates for horses. 
 5 bunding.
 
 CHAUCER. 105 
 
 it is abueion to think. And also into great preci- 
 ousness of vessels, and curiosity of minstrelsy, by 
 which a man is stirred more to deliccs * of lechery ; 
 if so be that he set his heart the less upon our 
 Lord Jesu Christ, certainly it is a sin. And cer- 
 tainly the ddices might be so great in this case, that 
 a man might lightly fall by hem into a deadly sin, 
 
 I think it needless to give any extract from 
 the " Conclusions of the Astrolabie," as there 
 can obviously be little to interest the general 
 reader in directions for the application of an as- 
 tronomical instrument. It was drawn up for 
 the benefit of" little Louis/' his son, a youth of 
 ten years of age. 
 
 Caxton stiles Chaucer " the worshipful fa- 
 ther and first founder and embellisher of ornate 
 eloquence in our English." And Mr. Godwin 
 observes, that " he fixed and naturalized the 
 genuine art of poetry in our island. But what 
 (says he,) is most memorable in his eulogy, is, 
 that he is the father of our language, the idiom 
 of which was, by the Norman conquest, ba 
 
 1 delights.
 
 CHAUCER. 
 
 from courts and civilized Hie, and 
 which Chaucer was the first to restore to lite- 
 rature and the muses'. No one man, in the 
 history of human intellect, ever did more than 
 was effected by the single mind of Chaucer." 
 And again : " Mandeville, Wicliffe, andGow<T, 
 whom we may style the other three evangelists 
 of our tongue, though all elder in birth than 
 Chaucer, did not begin so early to work upon 
 the ore of their native language. He surprised 
 his countrymen with a poem eminently idio- 
 matic, clear, and perspicuous in its style, as 
 weH as rich and harmonious in its versifica- 
 tion." 
 
 The principal foreign source whence Chau- 
 cer derived his materials for the improvement 
 of his native tongue, was the Provencal, or 
 Provencial, in his time the most polished lan- 
 guage of Europe. From his intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the romantic literature of the Pro- 
 vencial poets, he was enabled to transfuse into 
 his own vernacular dialect their terms and 
 phrases. It is thus that all languages are at 
 first nourished and brought to maturity. -In 
 the infancy of language and of literature in any 
 country, that is, before nations are become ac- 
 quainted with the methods and habits of think-
 
 CHAUCER. 107 
 
 ing, writers can in no way perhaps be so pro- 
 fitably employed, as in translation ; or in bor- 
 rowing and naturalizing the ideas of more 
 learned and polished nations, by which the 
 general progress of improvement is rendered 
 more easy and more rapid. But the writings 
 and genius of Chaucer, with the obligations 
 which our language and literature owe to him, 
 have been so fully illustrated by Mr. Tyrwhit, 
 in his edition of the " Canterbury Tales," and 
 more recently by Mr. Godwin, as to render it 
 superfluous for me to dwell longer upon his 
 article in thi& place.
 
 I i? the reigns of Henry IF. and V. which in- 
 tervene between those of Richard II. and Henry 
 VI. I have not found any literary production of 
 siifficient importance to induce me to preserve the 
 continuity in the succession of British Monarchs. 
 The author treated of in the following article, 
 had begun, indeed, tojlourish in both of those 
 reigns; but as the date of the production, whence 
 my selections are taken, is later, he is more pro-* 
 prrly arranged, rchere he is How found.
 
 ( 113 ) 
 
 REYNOLD PECOCK. 
 
 THIS prelate is said to have been born some- 
 where in Wales, which, however, is inferred 
 only from the circumstance of his having been 
 a presbyter of the diocese of St. David's. Qf 
 his parentage, as well as of the exact place and 
 time of his birth, we are ignorant ; but as he is 
 supposed to have died about the year 1460, at 
 the age of 70, his birth will fall about the year 
 1390. 
 
 He was educated at Oriel College, Oxford, 
 where he particularly applied himself to rhe- 
 toric and moral philosophy, though it is said, 
 chiefly with the view of rendering them subser- 
 vient to the study of theology. He became 
 fellow of Oriel, in 1417, and in 1420, was or- 
 dained deacon and priest. In 1425, he took 
 his batchelor's degree, and quitted the univer- 
 sity. His reputation for learning and elo- 
 quence, now recommended him to the notice 
 of Humphry, duke of Gloucester, then pro- 
 tector of the kingdom, who invited him to 
 
 VOL. I. |
 
 114 PECOCK. 
 
 court; in which situation, he added greatly to 
 his fortunes and consideration. In 1431, he 
 was made master of the college of St. Spirit 
 and St. Mary, in London, founded a little be- 
 fore hy sir Richard Whitington. 
 
 About this time he commenced his exami- 
 nation of the celebrated controversy between 
 the Catholics and Lollards, which occupied the 
 larger portion of his time and talents, for the 
 space of 20 years. In 1444, he was promoted 
 to the bishopric of St. Asaph, and took his de- 
 gree of doctor of divinity. From St. Asaph, he 
 was translated, in 1449, to the bishopric of 
 Chichester. 
 
 In the period in" which Pecock lived, the 
 dispute between the papists, and Wicliffites 
 ran tyigh, concerning the superior antiquity of 
 their respective tenets ; as well as on various 
 other points of doctrine. Wicliffe, as we have 
 seen, Was a.powerful antagonist to popish su- 
 perstition. Pecock, though a sincere advo- 
 cate of popery, discovered on all occasions a 
 wish to accommodate. He was a candid an$ 
 moderate, and at the same time an able oppo- 
 nent of the Wicliffites, whom he zealously en- 
 deavoured to reconcile to the catholic church ; 
 and strauge as it may appear, he had the hope
 
 PECOCK. 115 
 
 of being able to accomplish" this by bringing the 
 points in dispute to the test of reason. With 
 this view, he found himself under the necessity 
 of making many important concessions. In 
 particular, he allowed, that priests were falli- 
 ble men ; and consequently, might be mis- 
 taken. But the shibboleth of a true church- 
 man, in those times, was, his insisting on the 
 authority of the church, and the infallibility of 
 its decisions. Hence, those concessions, in- 
 stead of being ratified by the catholics, excited 
 their implacable rancour. For his attempt to 
 reclaim dissenters, he was represented as en- 
 couraging them ; was reproached as a heretic, 
 and treated as an enemy to that church, which 
 he sincerely and strenuously laboured to de- 
 fend. Unfortunately, the good bishop wanted 
 firmness ; and he was terrified by persecution, 
 into a dishonourable abjuration of those opi- 
 nions, which he believed to be true. But the 
 machinations of his enemies did not end here. 
 In 1458, he was deprived of his bishopric, and 
 confined in the abbey of Thorney, in the isle of 
 Thorney, in Cambridgeshire, and denied the 
 use of pen, ink, and paper ; and of all books, 
 opt a Bible, and a few books of devotion. 
 i 2
 
 llG 
 
 In this situation he wasted the inconsiderable 
 remnant of his life. 
 
 Since, according to the bishop's own ac- 
 count, he spent more than twenty years in 
 writing controversial books against the Lol- 
 lards, his publications are too numerous to 
 admit even of a catalogue in this place. Those 
 ivho have the curiosity to know their titles, 
 with a concise account of each, may consult 
 his Life, written by Lewis, chap. 7. He wrote 
 many volumes, both in Latin and English. 
 No less than fourteen, three in folio, and ele- 
 ven in quarto, were burnt at St. Paul's, as con- 
 taining heretical doctrines. I shall make par- 
 ticular mention only of two ; from the first of 
 which I shall select my extracts. This book, 
 entitled " The Represser," contains a defence 
 of the catholic clergy, against the objections 
 of the Wicliffites, and was published in 1449. 
 The plan of it shall be given in the bishop's own 
 words : 
 
 I shall (says he,) justify eleven governancies of 
 the clergy, which some of the common people un- 
 wisely and untruely judgen and condemnen to be 
 evil. Of which eleven governancies, one is, the 
 Ifaving and using of images in churches ; and ano-
 
 PECOCK, 117 
 
 flier is, pilgrimage in going to the memorials, or the 
 mind-places of saints, and that pilgrimages and of- 
 ferings mowe 1 be done well, not only so of laymen, 
 but rather of priests and of bishops. And this shall 
 I do by writing of this present book in the common 
 people's language, plainly and openly and shortly, and 
 to be cleped " The Repressing," &c. And he shall 
 have five principal parts. In the first of which 
 parts shall be made, in general manner, the said re- 
 pressing ; and in general manner proof to the eleven 
 said governancies. And in the ii. jii. iv. and v. 
 parts, shall be made, in special manner, the said 
 Jrepressing, and in special manner the proof of the 
 same eleven governancies. 
 
 In the first part of this work, he attacks the 
 main principle of the Over-blamers, or, as he 
 afterwards calls them, the Bible-men, " which 
 holden them so wise by the Bible alone." Ac- 
 cording to the bishop, some of these main- 
 tained that " no governance is to be holden 
 of Christian men, the service or the law of 
 God, save it which is grounded in holy scrip- 
 ture of the New Testament." Whereas, others 
 of them affirmed that " no governance is to bjc 
 
 1 may.
 
 IIS PECOCK. 
 
 held or accounted of Christian men, the service 
 or the law of God, save it which is grounded in 
 the New Testament, or in the Old, and is not 
 by the New Testament revoked." The Bible- 
 men carried their notions of the sufficiency of 
 the scriptures to an extravagant height, from 
 their opposition to the Romanists, who asserted 
 that the authority of the church is equal to 
 that -of sacred writ. The followers of Wic- 
 liffe had allowed " that men might accept 
 man's law and ordinancies wlien they were 
 grounded in holy scripture or good reason, or 
 were for the common profit of Christian peo- 
 ple." The bishop contends, and indeed with 
 great reason, that the Bible-men, in departing 
 from that principle, had run into a dangerous 
 error. His own words are : 
 
 First, It longtth 1 not to holy scripture, neither it 
 is his office into which God hath him ordained, nei- 
 ther it is his part for to ground any governance or 
 deed, or service of God, or any law of God, or any 
 truth which man's reason by nature may find, learn, 
 and know. 
 
 1. Scripture (he contends,) does not contain all 
 that is necessary for the grounding of moral virtues, 
 and there/ore is not properly the foundation on which 
 
 1 belongeth.
 
 PECOCK. 119 
 
 they stand. There may nothing be fundament or 
 ground of a wall, or of a tree, or of an house, save 
 it upon which the all whole substance of the wall, 
 or of the tree, or of the house standeth, and out of 
 which only the wall, tree, or house cometh. 
 
 2. All the learning and knowing which holy scrip- 
 ture giveth upon any beforesaid governance, deed, or 
 truth of God's moral law, may be had by doom 1 of 
 natural reason, ghc* though holy writ had not spoken 
 thereof, &c. 
 
 3. The moral law, or judgment of natural reason 
 Was, when neither of the New, neither of the Old 
 Testament the writing was, and thatyro the time of 
 Adam, &c. 
 
 4. For he [the scripture] biddeth a man to be 
 meek, and lie teacheth not before what meekness is ; 
 he biddeth a man to be patient, and yet he not be- 
 fore teacheth what patience is ; and so forth of each 
 virtue of God's law. Wherefore, no such said govern- 
 ance or virtue or truth, is to be said grounded in holy 
 scripture, no more than it ought be said if a bishop 
 would send a pintle or a letter to people of his diocese, 
 and therein would remember hem, exhort hem, and stir 
 hem, and bid hem, or counsel hem, for to keep cer- 
 tain moral virtues, c. 
 
 The conclusion of his fifth argument is cu- 
 
 i judgment, decision. *yea.
 
 120 TECOCK. 
 
 rious, from its description of an old custom in 
 the city of London, on Midsummer-eve, preva- 
 valent in the bishop's time. 
 
 5. Say to me, good sir, and answer hereto ; when men 
 of the country upland bringen into London in Myd- 
 summer-eve*, branches of trees fro Bishop's Wood, 
 and flowersyro the field, and betaken tho to citizens 
 of London, for to therewith array her houses, shoul- 
 den men of London receiving and taking tho branches 
 and flowers, s'ay and hold that tho branches grewen 
 out pf the carts which bfoughten hem to London, 
 and that tho carts, or the hands of the bringers, 
 \veren grounds and fundaments of tho branches and 
 flowers ? God forbid so little wit be in her heads. 
 Certes, though Christ and his apostles weren now liv- 
 ing at London, and would bring so as is now said 
 branches/ro Bishop's Wood, and flowers fro the fields 
 into London, and woulden hein deliver to men, that 
 they make therewith her houses gay, into remem- 
 brance of St John Baptist, and of this that it was 
 prophecied of him, that many shoulden joy in his 
 birth ; yet though men of London, receiving so tho 
 branches and flowers, oughten not say and feel, that 
 
 * At this period, on Midsummer night, a watch was kept in 
 London, on purpose to prevent the disorders of the rabble ; and 
 TCI* discontinued ty the 20th of Henry VIII. and the custom 
 abolished. Hull's Chro. fol. 181.
 
 PECOCK. 1*31 
 
 tho brandies and flowers grewen out of Christ's 
 hands tho branches grewen out of the boughs 
 upon which they in Bishop's Wood stooden, arid tho 
 boughs grewen out of stocks or trunchons, and the 
 trunchons or shafts grewen out of the root, and the 
 root out of the next earth thereto, upon which and 
 in which the root is buried. So that neither the 
 cart, neither the hands of the hringers, neither 
 tho bringers ben the grounds or fundaments of tha 
 branches. 
 
 6. The second principal conclusion and truth is 
 this ;-*r-Though it pertain not to holy scripture, for to 
 ground any natural or moral governance of truth, 
 into whose finding, learning, and knowing, man's 
 reason may by himself and by natural help come, as 
 it is open now before ; yet it may pertain well 
 enough to holy scripture, that he reherse such now 
 said governancies and truths, and that he witness 
 hem as grounded somewhere else 1 in the law of 
 kind*, or doom 3 of man's reason. 
 
 7. The third principal conclusion is this : The 
 whole office and work into which God ordained holy 
 scripture, is for to ground Articles of faith, and for to 
 reherse and witness moral truths of law of kind, 
 grounded in moral philosophy; that is to say, in 
 doom of reason/ that the readers be remembered, 
 
 'either. 'nature. 3 judgment.
 
 PECOCK. 
 
 stirred, and exhorted by so nrichc 1 the better, and the 
 more, and the sooner for to fulfil them. Of which 
 articles of faith, some bcu not laws; as these that 
 God made heaven and earth in the beginning of time $ 
 and that Adam was the first man, and Eve was the 
 first woman ; and that Moses lad the people of Is- 
 rael out of Egypt ; and that Zacharia was father,* and 
 Elizabeth was mother of John Baptist ; and that 
 Christ fasted forty days ; and so forth of many like. 
 And some other ben, laws ; as that each man ought 
 be baptized in water, if he may come thereto ; and 
 that each man ought to be hosiled*, if he may come 
 thereto. 
 
 8. The fourth principal conclusion : It is not the . 
 office longing to moral law of kind, for to ground any 
 article of faith, grounded by holy scripture. For 
 why ? all that the now said moral law of kind, or mo- 
 ral philosophy, groundeth, is grounded by doom of 
 man's reason ; and therefore is such a truth and a 
 conclusion, that in his finding, learning, and know- 
 ing, man's wit may, by itself alone, or by natural 
 helps, without revelation fro God, rise and suffice. 
 *****#*****# * 
 
 <J. The fifth principal conclusion : Though neither 
 the said moral law of kind, neither outward books 
 thereof written, move ground any truth or conclusion 
 
 1 much. - kosiled, receive the Lord's supper.
 
 PECOOK. 123 
 
 of very faith ; git ' tho outward books, as Christian 
 men hem maken, moice well ynow, reherse, and wit- 
 ness truths and conclusions of faith, grounded before 
 in holy scripture. For why ? it is no more repug- 
 nant, that books of moral philosophy reherse truths 
 and conclusions proper to the grounding of holy scrip- 
 ture, than that books of holy scripture reherse 
 truths and conclusions proper to the grounding of 
 moral philosophy. 
 
 10. The sixth principal conclusion : The whole 
 office and work into which ben ordained the books of 
 moral philosophy, written and made by Christian 
 men, in the manner now before spoken, is to ex- 
 press outwardly, by virtue of pen and ink, the truths 
 and conclusions which the inward book of law of 
 kind, buried in man's soul and heart, groundeth ; and 
 for to reherse some truths and conclusions of faith 
 longing to the grounding of holy scripture, that the 
 readers- be the more and the ofter remembered, and 
 stirred, and exhorted by this rehersing, &c. 
 
 11. The seventh principal conclusion : The. more 
 deal and part i/* of God's whole law to man in earth, 
 and that by an huge great quantity over the rema- 
 nent parts of the same law, is grounded sufficiently, 
 out of holy scripture, in the inward book of law of 
 kind, and of moral philosophy, and not in the book 
 of holy scripture. 
 
 yet. 'part.
 
 124 PECOCK. 
 
 12. The eighth principal conclusion : No man 
 may learn and hmnc the whole law of God, to which 
 Christian men ben bound, but ?/~he can of moral phi- 
 losophy ; and the more that he can-'m moral philoso- 
 phy, by so much the more he can of God's law and 
 service. This conclusion followeth out of the seventh 
 conclusion openly enough. 
 
 13. The ninth conclusion :i No man shoulden 
 perfectly, surely, and sufficiently understand holy 
 scripture in all tho places wherein he reherseth mo- 
 ral virtues ; but if he be before well, and perfectly, 
 sorely, and sufficiently learned in moral philosophy. 
 This conclusion followeth out* of the seventh and the 
 eight conclusions. 
 
 14. The tenth conclusion : The learning and 
 Running of the said law of kind, and of the said mo- 
 ral philosophy, is so necessary to Christian men, 
 that it may not be lacked of them if they shouldejj 
 perfectly serve to God, and keep his law bitake 1 to 
 htm in earth. 
 
 15. The eleventh conclusion : Full well oughten 
 all persons of the lay-party, not micfie learned in mo- 
 ral philosophy and law of kind, for to make miche of 
 clerks well learned in moral philosophy, that tho 
 clerks &houlden help tho lay persons, for to aright 
 understand holy scripture in all tho places in which 
 holy scripture reherseth the before-spoken conclu- 
 
 1 delivered.
 
 PKCOCK, 12,5 
 
 sions and truths of moral philosophy ; that is to say, 
 of law of kind. For why 'without tho clerks so 
 learned in moral philosophy, and without her direc- 
 tion, the now said lay persons shoulden not easily, 
 lightly and anon, have the due understanding of holy 
 scripture in the now said places. 
 
 16. The twelfth conclusion : -Full well oughten 
 all persons of the lay-party, not learned onyu'kere 
 else 1 by the now said clerks, or by other books of 
 moral philosophy, for to make mich of books made 
 to hem in her mother's language, which be clepcd 
 thus : The Donet* into Christian Religion ; The Fol- 
 lower to the Donct ; The Book of Christian Religion, 
 namely, the Jirst party fro the beginning of the third 
 treaty forward; The Bookjilling the Four Tables; The 
 Book of' Worshipping ;Thc book clcped The Proroker 
 of Christian Men ; The Book of Counsels ; and other 
 mo pertaining to the now said book of Christian Re- 
 ligion. Would God, men wouldcn not be by so mich 
 the forwarder, and the more presumptuous, that 
 goodness is to hem thus preferred. Would God, 
 that they woulden assay perfectly what tho now said 
 books ben ; and woulden well kunne hcm^ and then if 
 they should have any cause for to blame or com- 
 mend those books, that then first, they would blame 
 or commend. 
 
 17. The thirteenth conclusion : They that 'would 
 
 1 either. a Dtntt implies introduction.
 
 PECOCK. 
 
 ask and say thus " Where findest thou it grounded 
 in holy scripture r" As tho' else it is not worthly 1 to 
 be take for true, whenever any governance, or 
 truth, sufficiently grounded in law of kind, and in 
 moral philosophy, is affirmed and ministered to 
 them ; as ben many of tho eleven governancies and 
 truths,, which sc/iullen be treated upon after, in this 
 present book ; which ben setting up of images in 
 high places of the bodily church ; pilgrimages done 
 prively, and pilgrimages done openly, by laymen, 
 and by priests, and by bishops, unto the memo- 
 rials, or mind-places of saints ; and the endowing of 
 priests by rents and by unmoveable possessions, and 
 such other. Ashen tliQ whilst* in like manner un- 
 reasonably, and like unskilfully, and like reprova- 
 bly, as if they would ask and say thus : " Where 
 findest thou it grounded in holy scripture, when a 
 truth and conclusion of grammar is affirmed, and said 
 to them," &c. 
 
 The language in which this last conclusion is 
 expressed, being involved, the sentiment in- 
 tended to be conveyed, is somewhat obscure. 
 He means to say, that to expect the Authority 
 of scripture for all moral truths (which species- 
 of truths is discoverable by reason,) were. 
 
 1 worthy. 2 They ask at the same time.
 
 PECOCK. 127 
 
 equally absurd, as to expect a revelation to 
 establish the rules of grammar. 
 
 It is remarkable, that in the foregoing Con- 
 clusions of bishop Pecock, a cast of thought 
 is perceivable similar to that which pervades 
 the Ecclesiastical Polity of Hooker, as will be 
 seen when we come to treat of that celebrated 
 book. 
 
 The other work I proposed to speak of is his 
 " Treatise of Faith," which is a dialogue be- 
 tween a father and his son, divided into two 
 books ; of which the first professes to treat of 
 thfc most probable means of gaining over the 
 Lollards to the church ; which he affirms to be 
 an entire submission of their judgment to true 
 decrees of the church, though supposed falli- 
 ble ; unless they ceuld demonstrate such de- 
 crees to be founded in error. This book con- 
 tains, perhaps, a still fuller developement of hie 
 religious opinions. In a long digression, he 
 discusses the foundations of our faith; and al- 
 lows that faiih in this life, is only probable, or 
 opiniona/, not sciential; which, he says, is to 
 be obtained only in the bliss of heaven j and
 
 TECOCK. 
 
 that the truth of the Christian religion is not 
 to be proved by demonstrative, but only by 
 probable arguments. The book abounds in 
 scholastic learning and logical subtleties, in both 
 of which our author was a great proficient. 
 
 Reynold Pecock was evidently a man of 
 strong parts, and of learning far superior to 
 those of his time. He was not only skilled in 
 all the subtleties of the logic and divinity of the 
 schoolmen, but had studied with deep atten- 
 tion the law of nature and nations. He was at 
 once acute and eloquent. But his talents were 
 unhappily engaged in the hopeless attempt to 
 defend the absurd doctrines and usages of the 
 church of Rome, on the principles of reason. 
 To his praise, however, be it said, that he al- 
 ways conducted his opposition with great mo- 
 deration and candour. He patiently listened 
 to the arguments of his antagonists, without 
 replying to them, as was the custom with the 
 rest of his order, with insult and outrage. This 
 gentleness and forbearance towards heretics, 
 (even more than his heretical opinions,) were 
 the cause of his persecution. The following 
 short prayer, composed by himself in English, 
 as it exhibits a picture of the benignity and 
 candour of bismind, deserves to be transcribed:
 
 PECOCK. 129 
 
 O thou Lord Jesu, God and man, head of thy 
 Christian church, and teacher of Christian belief, I 
 beseech thy mercy, thy pity, and thy charity ; far 
 be this said peril [of implicit faith] from the Chris- 4 
 tian church, and from each person therein contain- 
 ed ; and shield thou, that this venom be never 
 brought into thy church ; and if thou suffer it to be 
 any while brought in, I beseech thee> that it be 
 soon again outspit ; but suffer thou, ordain> and do, 
 that the law and the faith, which thy chosen at any 
 time keepeth, be received and admitted to fall under 
 this examination whether it be the same very faith 
 which those of thine apostles taught or no, and whe- 
 ther it hath sufficient evidences for it to be Very 
 or no. 
 
 vox,. f*
 
 ( 130 ) 
 
 SIR JOHN FORTESCUE. 
 
 AN eminent lawyer and statesman, was de- 
 scended from an ancient family in Devonshire, 
 but neither the time nor place of his birth is 
 precisely known. He is supposed to have 
 been educated at Oxford, and bishop Tanner 
 affirms him to have been of Exeter College, 
 though these circumstances are also uncer- 
 tain. That he was a student of Lincoln's Inn, 
 however, is a fact better authenticated : for it 
 is well known that he distinguished himself 
 there by his knowledge of the civil and com- 
 mon law. 
 
 In the fourth year of Henry VI. or in 1426, 
 he was made one of the governors of Lincoln's 
 Inn, which honour was conferred upon hint, a 
 second time, three years after. In 1430, he 
 was made a serjeant at law ; in 1441, a king's 
 serjeant at law; and the year after, chief jus- 
 tice of the king's bench. This office he held 
 through the reign of Henry VI. to whom he 
 steadily adhered in all his misfortunes. In
 
 FORTESCUE. 131 
 
 consequence of this attachment, in the first 
 parliament under Edward IV. which began at 
 Westminster, on the 4th of November, 1461, 
 he was attainted of high treason, by the same 
 act which likewise ordered the attainder of 
 Henry VI. queen Margaret, and Edward, their 
 son, with a number of other persons of distinc- 
 tion. On the flight of Henry into Scotland, it 
 is generally believed, that he created Fortescue 
 chancellor of England ; and the latter, in his 
 book De Laudibus Legum Anglia, stiles him- 
 self Cancel/anus Anglic, 
 
 In the April of 1463, he fled to Flanders, in 
 company with queen Margaret, prince Ed- 
 ward, and other persons of rank, who followed 
 the fortunes of the house of Lancaster. He 
 continued exiled from his country during many 
 years, moving from place to place, as the ne- 
 cessities of the royal family required; and fi- 
 nally returned with them to England, on a de- 
 lusive prospect of retrieving their fortunes. 
 
 The time and other circumstances of his 
 death are unknown; though it is certain he 
 Jived to the age of nearly ninety years, and 
 probably died but a short time before the close 
 of the 15th century. 
 
 His works are numerous, though .two only, I 
 
 K 2
 
 1,12 PORTESCUE. 
 
 believe, have been printed. 1. Hi-s most cele- 
 brated production is the De Laudibiis Legum 
 Angliir, before mentioned. It appears from 
 the introduction, that his primary intention in 
 writing this work, was to institute his young 
 master, prince Edward, in the art of govern- 
 ment, by instructing him in the laws of his 
 country. He had observed the promising ta- 
 lents of that prince, who was eager to acquire 
 expertness in ull military exercises, with a view 
 to accomplish himself for an able commander. 
 He thought it of importance, therefore, to min- 
 gle with these laudable propensities, impres- 
 sions of a different description, but of no lesa 
 importance to a monarch. He was anxious to 
 instil into his mind, just notions of the consti- 
 tution of his country, and to inspire him with 
 reverence for its laws ; that (as he said,) if 
 Providence should favour his designs, he 
 might govern as a king, and not as a tyrant or 
 conqueror. His honourable solicitude, how- 
 ever, proved fruitless, with respect to the ob- 
 ject which called it forth ; the young prince, 
 not long after, 'having been inhumanly mur- 
 dered. But the work itself still remains as a 
 monument of the author's talents, and of his 
 love for his country. This eulogium upon our
 
 FORTESCUE. 1SS 
 
 national laws, though received with high com- 
 mendation by the professional men to whom it 
 was communicated, was not published till the 
 reign of Henry VIII. Several impressions 
 have since appeared, with different titles. But 
 the best editions are those in folio, Lond. 
 1732; and 1741, with a copious preface, anno- 
 tations, and an accurate index. 
 
 2. " The difference between an absolute and 
 limited Monarchy, as it more particularly re- 
 gards the English Constitution ; being a Trea- 
 tise written by Sir John Fortescue, Kt. Lord 
 Chief Justice and Lord High Chancellor of 
 'England, under King Henry VI.; faithfully 
 transcribed from the MS. copy in the Bod- 
 leian Library, and collated with three other 
 MSS. Published with some Remarks, by John 
 Fortesque Aland, of the Inner Temple, Esq. 
 F.R.S. Lond. 1714,8vo." 
 
 The different effects resulting from an abso- 
 lute and limited monarchy, which the author 
 stiles Jus Regale and Jus Politic-urn et Regale, 
 is well illustrated by thq difference of condi- 
 tion in the people of France and of England^ 
 at the period of his writing.
 
 134 FORTESCUE. 
 
 Chap. iii. 
 
 AndA(W 50 be it l that the French king reigneth upon 
 his people dotninio regali ; yet St. Lewis, sometime 
 king there, ne any of his progenitors set never talys % 
 or other impositions upon the people of that land, 
 without the assent of the three estates, which, when 
 they may be assembled, are like to the court of par- 
 liament in England. And this order kept many of 
 his successors till late days, that Englishmen made 
 such a war in France, that the three estates durst 
 not come together. And then for that cause, and 
 for great necessity which the French king had of 
 goods, for the defence of thai land, he took upon him 
 to set talys and other impositions upon the commons^ 
 without the assent of the three estates ; but yet he 
 would not set any such charges, nor hath set upon 
 the nobles, for fear of rebellion. And because the 
 commons, though they have grudged, have not re- 
 belled, nor be hardy to rebel, the French kings have 
 yearly sithen set such charges upon thm, and so 
 augmented the same charges, as the same commons 
 be so impoverished and destroyed, that they may un- 
 ntth live. They drink water, they eat apples, with 
 bread right brown, made of rye. They eat no flesh, 
 but ij it be selden*, a little lard, or of the entrails, 
 
 or heads of beasts, slain for the nobles and mer- 
 \ 
 
 notwithstanding. tallies, taxes. 3 seldom.
 
 FORTESCUE. 155 
 
 chants of the land. They wear no woollen, lut if 
 it be a poor coat, under their uttermost garment, 
 made of great canvass, and passen not their knee. 
 Wherefore, they be gartered and their thighs bare. 
 Their wives and children gone bare-foot ; they may 
 in none otherwise live : for some of them, that was 
 wont to pay to his lord for his tenement, which he 
 hireth by the year, a. scute 1 , payeth now to the king 
 over that scute, five scutes. irhcrdhro they be artyd* 
 by necessity, so to watch, labour, and grub in the. 
 ground for their sustenance, that their nature is much 
 wasted, and the kind of them brought to nought. 
 They gone crooked, and are feeble, not able to fight, 
 for to defend the realm ; nor they have weapon v nor 
 money to buy them weapon withal ; but verily they 
 live in the most extreme poverty and misery ; and 
 yet they dwell in one of the most fertile realm of the 
 world. Wherethro' the French king hath npt men of 
 Lis own realm, able to defend it, except his nobles,- 
 which beryn 3 not such impositions; and therefore,- 
 they are right likely of their bodies, by which cause 
 the said king is compelled to make his armies, and 
 and retinues for the defence of his land, of strangers, 
 as Scots, Spaniards, Arragonars*, men of dlmayn*, 
 and of other nations ; else, all his enemies might 
 
 1 of the value of 3s. 4d. a French gold coin, the same with their 
 
 escuts or ecus d'or, or gold crown piece. 
 1 pressed, constrained. 3 bear. * Arragonians. s Germany.
 
 136 FORTESCUE, 
 
 overrun him: for, he hath no defence of his own, 
 except his castles an4 fortresses. Lo ! this the fruit 
 of his Jvs Regale. If the realm of England, which 
 is an isle, and therefore might not lightly get suc- 
 cours of other lands, \vere ruled under such a law, 
 and under such a prince, it would be then a prey to all 
 other nations that would conquer, rot, and devour 
 it ; which was well proved in the time of the Bri- 
 tons, when the Scots and the Picts so beat and op- 
 pressed this land, that the people thereof sought 
 help of the Romans, to whom they had been tribu- 
 tary. And [as] they could not be defended by them, 
 they sought help of the duke of Britany, then called 
 Little Britain, and granted therefore, to make hif 
 brother Constantine, their king. And so he was 
 made king here, and reigned many years, apd his 
 children after him, of which great Arthur was one 
 of their issue. But blessed be God, this land is 
 ruled under a better law ; and, therefore, the peo- 
 ple thereof be not in such penury, nor there- 
 by hurt in their persons; but they be wealthy, 
 and have all {hings necessary to the susten- 
 ance of nature. Wherefore they be mighty, and 
 able to resist the adversaries of the realm, and to 
 beat other realms, that do or will do them wrong. 
 Lo ! this is the fruit of Jus Politician ct Regale, un- 
 der which we live. Somewhat now I have shewed 
 you of the fruits of both laws, ut ex fructibus eorum 
 w, fyc.
 
 FORTESCUB. 
 
 Chap. iv. 
 
 Hereafter is shewed how the Revenues of France be made 
 great. 
 
 Sithea our king reigneth upon us by laws more fa- 
 vorable and good to us, than be laws by the which 
 the French king ruleth his people, it is reason we be 
 to him more good and more profitable than be the 
 subjects of the French king unto him, which would 
 seem that we be not, considering that his subjects 
 yielden to him more in one year, than we do to our 
 sovereign lord in two years, how so be it, they do so, 
 again l their wills. Nevertheless, when it is consi- 
 dered, how a king's office standeth in two things, one 
 to defend his realm again their enemies outward, by 
 sword ; another, that he defendeth his people again 
 wrong doers inward, which the French king doth 
 not'; sythen he oppresseth them more himself, than 
 would have done all the wrong doers of the realm, 
 tho' they had had no king ; and sythen it is a sin to 
 .give no meat, drink, clothing, or other alms, to 
 them that have need, as shall be declared in the day 
 of doom ; how much a greater sin is it to take from 
 the poor man, his meat, his drink, his clothing and all 
 that he hath need of? Which verily doth the French 
 to many a thousand of his subjects, as is openly
 
 , JT)RTSCUE. 
 
 before declared. Which thing, tho' it be colour- 
 ed per Jus Regale, yet it is tyranny : for St. Thoirias 
 saith, when a king ruleth his realm only to his o\v 
 jyofit, and not to the good of his subjects, he is a 
 tyrant. 
 
 King Harauld 1 reigned upon the Jews, Dominio 
 Rfgali; yet when he sclovgh* the children of Israel, 
 he was in that a tyrant, tho' the laws sayen, quod 
 principi placuit, legis habtt vigorem. Wherefore Achab, 
 which reigned upon .the children of Israel, by like 
 laws, and desired to have had Naboth, his subject's 
 vineyard, would not by that law take it from him, 
 but proffered him the value thereof. For these 
 \vords. said by the prophet, prasdic els jus regis, be 
 not else to say ltut,pradic eis pottstatem regis. Where- 
 fore, as often as a king doth any thing again the law 
 of God, or again the law of nature, he doth wrong, 
 notwithstanding the said law declared by the pro- 
 phet. And it is so, that the law of nature -wott in 
 this case, that the king should do to his subjects, as 
 he would be done to himself, if he were a subject ; 
 which may not be, that he would be almost destroy- 
 ed, as be the commons of France. Wherefore, al- 
 beit that the French king's revenues be by such' 
 means much greater than be the revenues which the 
 king our sovereign lord, hath of us, yet they be not 
 goodly taken, and the might of his realm is ne'ar de-' 
 
 
 1 Herod". * slew.
 
 FOETESCUE. 139 
 
 stroyed thereby. By which consideration I would 
 not, that the king's revenues of this realm were made 
 great by any such means ; and yet of necessity they 
 must be greater than they be at this day. And 
 truly, it is very necessary, they be alway great; 
 and that the king have abundantly, wherewith his 
 estate may be honorably kept for right many causes ; 
 pf which some shall now hereafter be remembered. 
 
 There is a MS. of this work in the Cotton Li- 
 brary, in the title of which it is said to be address- 
 ed to Henry VI. but there can be little question, 
 from various passages contained in it, that it 
 was written by the author, with a view to in- 
 gratiate himself with Edward IV. The Lan- 
 castrian party having failed of success on their 
 return from the continent,, as already noticed, 
 Fortescue thought it expedient to make some 
 specious apology for his attachment to that 
 party ; and actually wrote another book, with 
 the express purpose of attempting a reconci- 
 liation with the victorious Edward IV. This 
 work, though never published, had been seen 
 by Selden, as he informs us in the preface to 
 his edition of the De Ijaudibus, &c. It is for 
 the honour of Sir John Fortescue, however, 
 that notwithstanding the various changes in
 
 140 FORTESCUE. 
 
 his own fortune, and that of the bloody fac- 
 tions which then vexed this kingdom, that he 
 never abandoned his old constitutional prin- 
 ciples. A second edition of the work, from 
 which the rea*der has been presented with an 
 extract, was published in 1719, 8vo. 
 
 Many, if not all of the MS. remains of sir 
 John Fortescue, are still extant in libraries. 
 The following titles will serve to shew us still 
 more completely, what were the subjects which 
 chiefly occupied his speculations and his pen : 
 1. Opmculum de Naturd Legis Naturtc, etde ejus 
 Censui'd in Successione Regnorum supremomm. 
 *J. Defensio Juris Domus Lancastrian. 3. Gene- 
 alogy of the House of Lancaster. 4. Of the Title 
 of the House of York* 5. Genealogia Re- 
 gum Scotia. 6. A Dialogue between Under- 
 standing and Faith. 7. A Prayer-book, which 
 savours much of the times we live in. 
 
 Mr. Fortescue Aland, the editor of " The 
 Differences between an Absolute and Limited 
 Monarchy," speaks of his illustrious predeces- 
 sor, in his preface to that work, in the follow- 
 ing handsome manner : " All good men, (says 
 lie,) and lovers of the English constitution, 
 speak, of him with honour, and that he still 
 lives in the opinions of all true Englishmen, in
 
 FORTESCUE. 14] 
 
 as high esteem and reputation, as any judge 
 that ever sat in Westminster Hall. He was a 
 man acquainted with all sorts of learning, be- 
 sides b.is knowledge in the law, in which he 
 was exceeded by none ; as will appear by the 
 many judgments he gave, when on the bench, 
 in the year-book of Henry VI. His character, 
 in history, is that of pious, loyal, and learned; 
 nnd he had the honour to be called the chief 
 counsellor of the king. He was a great cour- 
 tier, and yet a great lover of his country." 
 
 The works of Fortescue, contain many facts 
 relative to some of the darkest periods of our 
 history ,'together with various notices, interest- 
 ing to the antiquarian. There can be no doubt, 
 therefore, that several of his MSS. which are 
 still extant, may be printed with advantage.
 
 ( 142 ) 
 
 WS LETTERS, 
 
 THESE original letters, (as we are informed in 
 the title-page,) were written during the reigns 
 of Henry VI. Edward IV. and Richard III. by 
 various persons of rank or consequence ; and 
 contain many curious anecdotes relative to that 
 turbulent and bloody, but hitherto dark period 
 of our history. They were published in 1787 ; 
 and are all duplicates : for in order to prevent 
 any repulsive effect to the reader, from their 
 antique appearance^ the original letter, in all 
 the peculiarities of the ancient orthography, is 
 given on one page, and on the opposite, is the 
 same letter, in the modern spelling, except 
 only such words as are now become obsolete. 
 Agreeably to my plan, I shall extract only the 
 modernized copy.
 
 LETTERS. 143 
 
 The Copy of a notable Letter, written by the Duke of 
 Suffolk*, to his Son f, giving him therein very good 
 coiinsei. 
 
 ' My dear and only well beloved soiij 
 I beseech our Lord in Heaven, the maker of all the 
 world, to bless you, and to send you ever grace to 
 love him, and to dread him, to the which, as far a& 
 a father may charge his child, I both charge you, 
 and pray you to set all your spirits and wits to do, 
 and to know his holy laws and commandments, by 
 the which ye shall, with his great mercy, pass all 
 the great -tempests and troubles of this wretched 
 world. 
 
 * William de la Pole, duke of Suffolk, succeeded his brother 
 Michael, slain at the battle of Agiocourt, in 1415, as earl of 
 Suffolk ; he was prime minister and favorite of Henry VI. and 
 queen Margaret; was created in 1443, 23d Henry VI. mar- 
 quis ; and in 1443, -26th Henry VI. duke of Suffolk. He was 
 banished by the king, at the instigation of the Commons, &c. 
 and murdered on the sea, on the 2d of May, 1450, a 8th. 
 Henry VI. 
 
 He married Alice, widow of Thomas de Montacute, earl of 
 Salisbury, and daughter and heir of Thomas Chaucer, esq, of 
 Ewelme, in Oxfordshire, and grand-daughter of Geoffrey Chau- 
 cer, the celebrated poet. 
 
 t John de la Pole (after his father's murder,) duke of Suffolk, 
 &c. He married Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Plantagenet, 
 duke of York, and sister of Edward IV. He died in 1491, 7th 
 Henry VII. and was buried by his father at Wingfield, in 
 Suffolk.
 
 144 VENN'S IETTERS. 
 
 And that, also weetingly, ye do nothing for love 
 nor dread of any earthly creature that should dis- 
 please him. And whenever any frailty maketh you 
 to fall, beseech his mercy soon to call you to him 
 again with repentance, satisfaction, and contrition 
 of your heart, never more in will to offend him. 
 
 Secondly, next him above all earthy things, to b 
 true liegeman in heart, in will, in thought, in deed, 
 unto the king our greatest high and dread sovereign 
 lord, to whom both ye and I be so much bound to ; 
 charging you as father can and may, rather to die 
 than to be the contrary, or to know any thing that 
 were against the welfare* or prosperity of his most 
 royal person, but as far as your body and life may 
 stretch, ye live and die to defend it, and to let his 
 highness have knowledge thereof in all the haste 
 ye can. 
 
 Thirdly, in the same wise, I charge you, my dear 
 son, alway as ye be bounden by the commandment 
 of God, to do, to love, to worship, your lady and 
 mother ; and also that ye obey alway her command- 
 ments, and to believe her counsels and advices in all 
 your works, the which dread not but shall be best 
 and truest to you. 
 
 And if any other body would steer you to the con- 
 
 * This very particular adTice to his sen, shows his fears for the 
 king's personal safety at this time.
 
 145 
 
 trary, to flee the counsel in any wise, for ye shall 
 find it nought and evil. 
 
 Furthermore, as father may and can, I charge you 
 in any wise to flee the company and counsel of proud 
 men, of covetous men, and of flattering men, the 
 more especially and mightily to withstand them, 
 and not to draw nor to meddle with them, with all 
 your might and power ; and to draw to you and to 
 your company, good and virtuous men, and such as 
 be of good conversation, and of truth, and by them 
 shall ye never be deceived nor repent you of. 
 
 Moreover, never follow your own wit in no wise, 
 but in all your works, of such folks as I write of 
 above, ask your advice and counsel, and doing thus, 
 with the mercy of God, ye shall do right well, and 
 live in right much worship, and in great heart's rest 
 and ease. 
 
 And 1 will be to you as good lord and father as 
 my heart can think. 
 
 And last of all, as heartily and as lovingly as ever 
 father blessed his child in earth, I give you the 
 blessing of our Lord and of me, which of his infinite 
 mercy increase you in all virtue and good living ; 
 and that your blood may by his grace from kindred 
 to kindred, multiply in this earth to his service, in 
 such wise as after the departing from this wretched 
 world her*, ye and they may glorify him eternally 
 amongst his angels in Heaven. 
 VOL. i. 1,
 
 140 FENN'S LETTERS. 
 
 Written of mine hand, the day of my departing 
 fro this land. 
 
 Your true and loving father, 
 April, 1450, 28th II. VI. SUFFOLK. 
 
 To the Right irorshipful John Paston, at Norwich. , 
 
 Right Worshipful Sir, 
 
 I recommend me to you, and am right sorry of 
 that 1 shall say, and have so washed this little bill 
 with sorrowful tears, that scarcely ye shall read it. 
 
 As on Monday next after May day (4th May,) 
 there came tidings to London, that on Thursday be- 
 fore, (30th April,) the d.uke of Suffolk came unto the 
 coasts of Kent*, full near Dover, with his two ships, 
 and a little spinner; the which spinner he sent with 
 certain letters, by certain of his trusted men uno 
 Calais ward, to know how he should be received ; 
 and with him met a ship called Nicholas f of the 
 Tower, with other ships waiting on him, and by them 
 that were in the spinner, the master of the Nicholas 
 had knowledge of the duke's coming. 
 
 When he espied the duke's ships, he sent forth 
 his boat to iced what they were, and the duke 
 
 * Some of our historians say that he put to sea from the 
 coast of Norfolk. E. 
 
 J- This ship belonged to Bristol in 1442, 20th Henry VI. and 
 was a great ship, with fore-stages, and carried 150 men. E.
 
 FENN'S LETTERS. 147 
 
 himself spoke to them, and said, he was by the 
 king's commandment, sent to Calais ward, &c. and 
 they said he must speak with their master ; and so 
 he, with two or three of his men, went forth with 
 them in their boat to the Nicholas; and when he 
 came, the master bade him Welcome, Traitor, as men 
 say. 
 
 And further, the master desired to wete if the 
 shipmen would hold with the duke, and they sent 
 word they would not in no wise ; and so he was in 
 the Nicholas till Saturday (2d May,) next following. 
 
 Some say he wrote much thing to be delivered to 
 the king, but that is not verily known. 
 
 He had his confessor with him, &c. ; and some 
 say he was arraigned in the ship on their manner, 
 upon the impeachments*, and found guilty, &c. 
 
 Also he asked the name of the ship, and when he 
 knew it, he remembered Staceyf, that said, if he 
 might escape the danger of the Tower,- he should be 
 safe ; and then his heart failed him, for he thought 
 he was deceived. 
 
 * Impeachments by the Commons. This shews that these 
 ships were sent out on purpose to take him, &c, E. 
 
 f- Prophecies in these times, were generally believed ; and 
 being always ambiguously expressed, had a greater chance of 
 sometimes being fulfilled. 
 
 King Henry IV. from one of these ambiguous prophecies, be- 
 lieved he was to die in Jerusalem. E. 
 I. 2
 
 148 IJ'Nlss LETTERS. 
 
 And in the sight of all his men, he was drawn out 
 ct' the great ship into the boat, and there was an 
 axe, and a stock, and one of the Iczulcst;' 1 of the ship 
 bade him lay down his head, and he should be fairly 
 fought with, and die on a sword ; and he took a rus- 
 ty sword, and smote oft' his head within half a dozen 
 strokes, and took away his gown of russet, and his 
 doublet of velvet mailed, and laid his body on the 
 sands of Dover ; and some say his head was set on a 
 pole by it; and his men sit on- the land by great cir- 
 cumstance*, and pray. 
 
 . And tile sheriff of Kent doth watch the bodyf, and 
 [hath] sent his under sheriff to the judges, to wet 
 what to do ; and also to the king [to know} what 
 shall be done. 
 
 Further I not not, but thus far is it, if the process 
 be erroneous, let his counsel reverse it, &c. 
 
 Also for all the other matters, they sleep, and the 
 friar also, &c. 
 
 1 meanest. 
 
 * Query. By great numbers ? E. 
 
 J- His body was taken from Dover Sands, and carried to the 
 Collegiate Church of Wingfield, in Suffolk, where it lies in- 
 terred under an altar tomb, in the chancel, with his effigies in 
 armour, painted, gilt, &c. carved in wood, lying on it. It is 
 remarkably well executed; as is that of Alice, his wife, like- 
 wise, which lies at his right hand. E.
 
 FENN'ST LETTERS. 149 
 
 Sir Thomas Keriel* is taken prisoner, and all the 
 leg harness; and about 3000 Englishmen slain. 
 
 Matthew Gooth [q. Goughf?,] with 1500, fled, and 
 saved himself and them. And Peris Brusy was 
 chief captain, and had 10,000 Frenchmen and 
 more, &c. 
 
 I pray you let my mistress, your mother, know 
 these tidings, and God have you all in his keeping. 
 
 I pray you [that] this bill may recommend me to 
 my mistresses, your mother anil wife, &c. 
 
 James Gresham hath written to John of Dam, 
 and recommendeth him, &c. 
 
 Written in great haste at London, the 5th of 
 May, &c. 
 
 , By your wife, 
 
 WILLIAM LOMXF.R. 
 London, Tuesday, '5th of May, 
 1450, 28th II. VI. 
 
 * He was taken prisoner at the battle of Fouronigni, fought 
 on the 18th of April, 1450, where he defended himself with 
 great bravery. He was beheaded by queen Margaret's order, 
 after the 2d battle of St. Alban's, in 1460. E. 
 
 f- Qu.cn/, if the brave Matthew Gough, who was afterward-. 
 slain in Cade's rebellion, fighting on the citizen's part, in July, 
 1 4 50, at the battle of the Bi idge ? E. 
 
 The conclusion of this letter puzzled me for a long time ; at 
 first I thought the word wi{fc might be read nicfot servant, brtt
 
 150 FENN S LETTERS. 
 
 the w was too much like all the others in the same letter, to 
 warrant that reading. I think it may be thus explained : 
 
 In looking over this collection of letters, I found some sub- 
 scribed W. L. and others William Lomner, in the same hand. 
 But then this difficulty occurred, how could W. L. or Wil- 
 liam Lomner. be the wife of John Paston ? 
 
 On examining some of the letters of Margaret Paston to 
 her husband, and which were subscribed ' Be your wife," I 
 found them written in the same hand as those signed W. L. and 
 William Lomner. I guess, therefore, that being used to write 
 sometimes for his mistress to her husband, John Paston, he 
 now, in his hurry, instead of concluding, " By your servant, 
 W. L." as some of his letters do, he wrote by mistake, " by 
 your wyfe, W. L." 
 
 The family of Lomner, had property both at Mannington and 
 Wood Bailing, in Norfolk ; at the latter town, his son Wil 
 liam built a castellated mansion. E.
 
 iv.
 
 ( 153 ) 
 
 FENN'S LETTERS, 
 (Continued,) 
 
 i r nto my right "well-beloved Valentine, John Paston, Esq. 
 be this bill delivered, fyc. 
 
 Right reverend and worshipful, and my right 
 well beloved Valentine, 
 
 I recommend me unto you, full heartily desiring 
 to hear of your welfare, which I beseech Almighty 
 God long for to preserve unto his pleasure, and your 
 heart's desire. 
 
 And if it please you to hear of my welfare, I am 
 not in good heel 1 of body nor of heart, nor shall I 
 be till I hear from you; for there uottyn* no creature, 
 what pain that I endure, and for to be dead, I dare it 
 aot discover. 
 
 And my lady, my mother, hath laboured the'mat- 
 ter to my father full diligently, but she can no more 
 get than ye know of, for the which God knoweth, 1 
 am full sorry. But if that ye love me, as I trust ve- 
 rily that ye do, ye will not leave me therefore. 
 
 health, 'knows,
 
 154 FENN S LETTERS. 
 
 And if ye command me to keep me true wherever I go, 
 I wis I will do all my might you to love, and never no mo, 
 And if my friends say, that 1 do amiss, 
 They shall not me let so for to do, 
 Mine heart me binds evermore to love you, 
 .Truly over all earthly thing, 
 And if they be never so wrath, 
 I trust it shall be better in time coming. 
 
 No more to you at this time, but the Holy Tri- 
 nity have you in keeping ; and I beseech you that 
 this bill be not seen of none earthly creature, save 
 only yourself, &c. 
 
 And this letter was indited at Topcroft, with full 
 heavy heart, &c. 
 
 By your own, 
 
 MARGERY BREAVS, 
 Topcroft, February, 1476-7, 
 16th E. IV. 
 
 To my right well-beloved cousin, John Paston, Esq. be 
 this letter delivered, fyc. 
 
 Right worshipful and well beloved Valentine, 
 
 In my most humble wise, I recommend me unto 
 
 you, &c. And heartily I thank you for the letter, 
 
 which that ye send me by John Beckerton, whereby 
 
 J understand and know, that ye be purposed to come
 
 FENN'S LETTERS. 155 
 
 to Topcroft in short time, and without any errant or 
 matter, but only to have a conclusion of the matter 
 betwixt my father and you ; I would be the most 
 glad of any creature alive, so that the matter may 
 grow to effect. And thereas [whereas] ye say, and 
 [if] ye come and find the matter no more towards 
 you than ye did aforetime, ye would no more put my 
 father and my lady, my mother, to no cost nor bu- 
 siness, for that cause a good while after, which 
 causeth my heart to be full heavy ; and if that ye 
 come, and the matter take to none effect, then should 
 I be much more sorry, and full of heaviness. 
 
 And as for myself, I have done, and understand in 
 the matter that I can or may, as God knoweth ; and 
 I let you plainly understand that my father will no 
 more money part withal in that behalf, but an 1001. 
 and 5 marks, [33l. 6s. Sd.] which is right far from 
 the accomplishment of your desire. 
 
 Wherefore, if that ye could be content with that 
 good, and my poor person, I would be the merri- 
 est maiden on ground; and if ye think not your- 
 self so satisfied, or that ye might have much more 
 good, as I have understood by you afore ; good, true, 
 and loving Valentine, that ye take no such labour 
 upon you, as to come more for that matter. But let 
 [what] is, pass, and never more to be spoken of, as 
 I may be your true lover and beadwoman during my 
 life.
 
 155 FENN'S LETTERS, 
 
 No more unto you at this time, but Almighty 
 Jesu preserve you both body and soul, &c. 
 By your Valentine, 
 
 MARGERY BUEWS. 
 Topcroft, 1476-7. 
 
 "We are here furnished with a curious, though 
 imperfect catalogue, of the library of a gentle- 
 man in the reign of Edward the Fourth. 
 
 "It is written on a strip of paper,, about seven- 
 teen inches long, and has been rolled up ; by 
 which means, one end having been damp, is 
 entirely decayed ; so that the names of some 
 of the books are imperfect, and the then price 
 or value of all of them, is not now to be dis- 
 covered, that having been uniformly written 
 at the end, which is now destroyed. 
 
 " It contained an account of all the books he 
 had, as it mentions those which were lent out 
 at the same time the catalogue was made ; and 
 though the name of the owner is gone, yet by 
 comparing the list with the account of Wil- 
 liam Ebesham, in Letter XXIV. it 'fixes it no 
 the library of John Paston. 
 
 K It contained only one book in print, the rest
 
 FENN'S LETTERS. 157 
 
 being manuscripts, and appear to have been 
 boun'd together, as numbered 1, 2, 3, &c. in 
 the inventory. 
 
 " An account of most of the books mentioned 
 is to be found in Mr. Warton's ( History of Eng- 
 lish Poetry,' and some of them, when after- 
 wards printed, in Mr. Herbert's improved edi- 
 tion of Ames's ' History of Printing;' to tlie.se 
 therefore I refer the reader." 
 
 The Inventory of English Books, of 'John Paston, made 
 the 5th day of November, in the .... year of the reign 
 of Eduard IV-. 
 
 \. A book had of my hoslcsrat the George, of the 
 Death of Arthur, beginning at Cassibelau, 
 Guy Earl of Warwick. 
 King Richard Cceur de Lion. 
 A Chronicle to Edward III. price 
 5?. Item A Book of Troilus, which William Br 
 hath had near ten years, and lent it to Dame 
 
 Wyn'gfeld, and there I saw it 
 
 worth 
 
 3. Item A Black Book, with the Legend of 
 Lady sans Merci. 
 The Parliament of Birds. 
 The Temple of Glass. 
 Palatyse and Sciatic.
 
 FENN S LETTERS. 
 
 The Meditations of 
 
 The Green Knight worth 
 
 4. item A Book in print of the play of 
 
 5. Item A Book lent Midelton, and therein is 
 Belle Dame sans Merci. 
 
 The Parliament of Birds. 
 Ballad of Guy and Colbrond, 
 
 the Goose, the 
 
 The Disputing between Hope and Despair. 
 
 Merchants. 
 
 The Life Saint Cry 
 
 6. A red Book that Percival Robsart gave me ; 
 
 of the Meeds of the Mass. 
 The Lamentation of Child Ipotis. 
 A Prayer to the Vernicle, 
 
 called the Abbey of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 7. Item in quires, Tully de Senectute in diverse 
 
 whereof there is no more clear writing. 
 
 8. Item in quires, Tully or Cypio [Cicero] de 
 
 Amicitta, left with William Worcester, 
 
 worth 
 
 9. Ittm m quires, a Book of the Policy of I ...... 
 
 10. Item in quires, a Book de Sapientid, 
 wherein the second person is likened to Sa- 
 pience. 
 
 1 1 . Item a Book de Othea, [on W r isdom] text and 
 gloss, worth in quires 
 
 Memorandum; mine old Book of Blazonings of 
 Arms.
 
 FENN'S LETTERS. - 159 
 
 Item the new book portrayed and blazoned. 
 Item a Copy of Blazonings of Arms, and the 
 
 names to be found by letter [alphabetically]. 
 Item a Book with arms portrayed in paper. 
 Memorandum ; my Book of Knighthood, and the 
 
 manner of making of Knights of Justs, of 
 
 Tournaments ; 
 
 fighting in lists ; paces holden by soldiers ; 
 
 Challenges; Statutes of War; and de Re- 
 
 gimine Principum .... worth 
 Item a Book of new Statutes from Edward 
 
 the IV. 
 5th of November, E. IV.
 
 ( 160 
 
 THE next writer of note is CAXTON, our first 
 printer. But before I speak particularly of 
 him, it will be proper to give a brief view of 
 the literature of France, during the latter cen- 
 turies of the middle ages, as that is the chief 
 source whence Caxton dre\f, his materials' for 
 enriching his vernacular language. 
 
 From the thirteenth century, to about die 
 middle of the fifteenth,, the French had been 
 occupied in translating books from the Latin. 
 They consisted chiefly of legends, rituals, mo- 
 nastic rules, chronicles, pandicts and feudal 
 coutumes, romances, &c. To these we may 
 also add, versions of some of the classics. 
 These translations were commonly in verse. 
 But in the year 1207, Turpin's Charlemagne, 
 contrary to the usual practice of turning Latin 
 prose into French rhimes, was translated into 
 French prose, by Michael de Harnes. And a 
 Life of Charles the Great, was printed by Cax- 
 ton, in 1485. 
 
 In the year 1245, a system of theology, the 
 seven sciences, geography, and natural philo-
 
 sophy, under the title Speculum Mundi, was 
 translated into French, at the instance of the 
 duke of Berry and Auvergne. This was con- 
 verted into English, and printed by Caxton in 
 1480. 
 
 In the fourteenth century, the spirit of devo- 
 tional curiosity a spirit kindled by St. Louis 
 was still more productive of holy treatises. 
 Under the reign of king John and Charles V. 
 we have French translations of St. Austin, 
 Cassianus, and Gregory the Great, the first of 
 the fathers which appeared in a modern 
 tongue. Also Gregory's Homilies, and his Dia- 
 logues ; with St. Austin de Civitate Dei , and 
 various other treatises which it is unnecessary 
 to particularise. 
 
 John, the French king, on his return from 
 his captivity in England, was particularly zea- 
 lous in his encouragement of this work of 
 translation; and when he had fatigued his 
 curiosity, and satisfied his conscience, by 
 procuring numerous versions of religious 
 treatises, he at - last directed his attention 
 to the classics. It was a circumstance auspi- 
 cious to letters, that he was ignorant of the 
 Latin: for this ignorance rendered him the 
 
 VOL. i M
 
 ( 1<3'2 ) 
 
 more curious to become acquainted with the 
 treasures of Roman learning; and he employ- 
 ed Peter Bercheur, prior of St. Eloi, at Paris, 
 an eminent theologian, to translate Livy into 
 French, in spite of the anathema of pope Grego- 
 ry against that admirable historian. So judicious 
 a choice was doubtless suggested by Petrarca, 
 who was at this time resident at the court of 
 France, and who regarded Livy with enthusias- 
 tic admiration. To the translation of Livy, 
 succeeded those of Sallust, Lucan, and Caesar, 
 all of which were probably finished before the 
 year 1365. A version of Valerius Maximus 
 was begun in 1364, by Simon de Hesdin, a 
 monk ; but finished by Nicolas de Gonesse, a 
 master of theology, in 1401. Ovid's Meta- 
 morphoses moralized, supposed to have been 
 written in Latin about 1070, were translated by 
 Guillaume de Nangis ; and the same poem 
 was translated into French, at the request of 
 Jane de Bourbonne, afterwards consort of 
 Charles V. by Philip Vitri, bishop of Meaux, 
 the friend of Petrarca, and who was living in 
 1361. A French version, too, of Cicero's Rhe- 
 lorica, by master John de Antioche, appeared 
 m 1383.
 
 ( 163 ) 
 
 About the same time, parts of the works of 
 Aristotle were translated into French from the 
 Latin ; his Problems, by Evrard tie Conti, phy- 
 sician to Charles V. ; and his Ethics and Poli- 
 tics, by Nicolas d'Oresine, while canon of 
 Rouen. Other Greek classics likewise became 
 known by Latin versions ; they were also 
 familiarized to general readers by versions 
 from the Latin into French. Thus the Latin 
 version of Xenophon's Cyropsedia, by Poggius 
 Florentinus, was translated into French in 
 1370, by Vasque de Lucerie. 
 
 In the fifteenth century, the French began 
 to revise and polish the translations of the two 
 preceding centuries ; and to turn many of their 
 metrical versions into prose. The introduc-* 
 tion, too, of more entertaining and better books, 
 and their multiplication arising from the in- 
 vention of printing, had the effect of abating 
 the rage for legends, and other superstitious 
 tracts : for the printers, who multiplied greM- 
 ly towards the close of this century, found it 
 their interest, instead of procuring expensive 
 versions of the ancient fathers, &c. to publish 
 new translations of books of greater entertain- 
 ment. Among these may be mentioned, as 
 M 2
 
 ( 164 ) 
 
 instances, Lancelot da Lac, translated from the 
 Latin, by Robert cle Borron, at the command 
 of our Henry If. or III. and Gyron h Cour- 
 tois. 
 
 This century produced also many French 
 versions of classics. An abridgement of the 
 three first decads of Livy, was made by Hen- 
 ry Remain, a canon of Tournay. In 1416', 
 Jean de Courci, a knight of Normandy, gave a 
 translation of some Latin Chronicle, " A His- 
 tory of the Greeks and Romans," entitled 
 " Bouqnassiere." We have also the " Four Car- 
 dinal Virtues" of Seneca; Quintus Curtius, in 
 1468; Caesar's Commentaries ; Terence, 1466; 
 Ovid's Metamorphoses. The (Economics of 
 Aristotle, and Tully's de Amicitia, and de Se- 
 nectute, before the year 1426. Tully's Ora- 
 tion against Verres, by Jean de Lunenbourg. 
 Also Hippocrates and Galen, in 1429, by John 
 Toustier, surgeon to the duke of Bedford, then 
 regent of France. The Iliad, about the same 
 period, was also translated into French metre, 
 probably from a Latin version. The jEneid of 
 Virgil, was translated into a sort of metrical 
 romance, or history of /Eneas, under the title 
 of Livrv d'Eneidos, compile par Virgile > by
 
 ( 165 ) 
 
 Guillaume de Roi ; printed in 1483, at Lyons. 
 The translator has made various interpola- 
 tions and omissions ; as a description of the 
 first foundation of Troy, by Priam ; and the 
 succession of Ascanius and his descendants, 
 after the death of Turnus. There is a digres- 
 sion upon Boccacio, reprehending him for 
 giving, in his " Fall of Princes," an account 
 of the death of Dido, different from that in 
 the fourth book of the /Eneid. He passes over 
 JEneas's descent into hell, as a tale manifestly 
 forged and incredible. 
 
 It has been before observed, that the inti- 
 mate connection subsisting between France 
 and England for several centuries subsequent to 
 the conquest, rendered the French language 
 common between the two nations. Books, 
 therefore, of any description, did not long ex- 
 ist in France, without finding their way to 
 this country. MS. copies were presented, ei- 
 ther by the translators or their patrons, to the 
 kings of England ; and are still to be found 
 among the royal MSS. in the British Museum. 
 Many of these MSS. were elegantly written, 
 and often embellished with curious miniatures, 
 and with the most splendid illuminations.
 
 ( 16G ) 
 
 Others were brought to England, and repo- 
 sited in the royal library, by John, duke of 
 Bedford, when regent of France. A few of 
 these MSS. were transcribed, if not translated, 
 by command of our kings. 
 
 In this manner some acquaintance with 
 classical literature was introduced prior to 
 the revival of letters, Before the transla- 
 tion of Livy, by Bercheur, had been brought 
 into England, by the regent duke of Bed- 
 ford, few Englishmen had probably read 
 that historian. Many of the Roman poets 
 and historians were now perused in the origi- 
 nal, though the knowledge of the Latin was 
 chiefly confined to a few ecclesiastics. These 
 authors, however, through the medium of the 
 French, became intelligible to ordinary read-r 
 crs, and thus assisted in sowing the seeds of 
 taste, and of a national- literature. Even the 
 French versions of the superstitious dreams of 
 speculative monks, and the allegorical and 
 philosophical reveries of irrefragable doctors, 
 in their day, were not without their utility. 
 They served to excite a taste for reading, 
 -which, when once awake, seeks continually to 
 be gratified with new objects.
 
 ( 167 ) . 
 
 Such were the sources whence Caxton had 
 to draw for the exercise of his wonderful art, 
 for the improvement of his native tongue, and 
 for the amusement and instruction of his 
 countrymen. I now proceed to a more parti- 
 cular account of that indefatigable benefactor 
 of his species.
 
 ( 168 ) 
 
 CAXTON. 
 
 WILLIAMCAXTON, the person wtio introduced 
 and first practised the art of printing in Eng- 
 land, was born about the close of the reign of 
 Henry IV. in the Weald, or woody part of 
 Kent. He was taught by his mother to read 
 and write ; and subsequently attained by his 
 own industry, a competent knowledge of the 
 Latin and French. At the age of fifteen or 
 sixteen, he was put apprentice to a mercer of 
 eminence in London ; and in consideration of 
 his integrity and good behaviour, his master, 
 at his death, in 1441, bequeathed him a legacy 
 of thirty-four marks ; a considerable sum in 
 those days. Being now a man of some pro- - 
 perty, of a respectable character, and very ex- 
 pert in his business, he was chosen by the mer- 
 cer's company, of which he was become a free- 
 man, to be their agent or factor, in Holland, 
 Zealand, Flanders, &c. In these countries, he 
 spent about twenty-three years ; during which 
 he acquired such a character for knowledge 
 and experience, that in 1464, we find him as-
 
 CAXTON. 169 
 
 Bociated with Richard Whetehill, Esq. in a 
 commission, entrusted to them by Edward IV. 
 to continue and confirm the treaty of com- 
 merce, between his majesty and Philip duke 
 of Burgundy ; or to make a new one, if thought 
 necessary. This intercourse in trade, creating 
 a common interest, produced in 1468, a mar- 
 riage between the lady Margaret of York, sis- 
 ter to Edward, and the duke's son Charles, 
 then duke of Burgundy. 
 
 Caxton was expert in penmanship, and by 
 his residence abroad, and intercourse with li- 
 terary men, had become well versed in lan- 
 guages and general literature. The new inven- 
 tion of printing was, at this time, the subject 
 of general interest and conversation on the 
 continent ; and Caxton, at a great expence, 
 made himself a practical in aster of this unrivalled 
 invention. His skill in the art, probably, ob- 
 tained him the countenance of Margaret, now 
 duchess of Burgundy, who encouraged him in 
 the practice of it, and established him in her 
 service. He was employed by her in translat- 
 ing a large volume from the French, and after- 
 wards in printing it. This work was published 
 under the title of " The Recuyell of the Histo- 
 ries of Troye," &c. and is remarkable as being
 
 170 CAXTON. 
 
 the first book .ever printed in the English lan- 
 guage, Caxton was engaged upon it for some 
 time at Ghent, but finished it at Cologne, in 
 1471, on which he returned to Bruges, and 
 presented it to the lady Margaret, who libe- 
 rally rewarded him for his trouble. Having 
 sold as many copies as he could on the conti- 
 nent, he returned in 1472, to England, bring- 
 ing with him the remainder, as specimens of 
 his skill; and hence is dated the introduction 
 of the art of printing into this country. The 
 art itself, however, was not practised here, ei- 
 ther by himself, or any one else, till about two 
 years after. 
 
 The first book printed in England was "The 
 Game of Chess," dated 1474. And we learn 
 from Stowe's Survey of London (edit. fol. 
 1633, p. 515,) " that in the Eleemosinary, or 
 Almonry, at Westminster Abbey, (now cor- 
 ruptly called Ambry, for that the alms of the 
 Abbey were there distributed to the poor,) 
 John Islep, abbot of Westminster, erected the 
 first press of book-printing, that ever was in 
 England ; and Caxton was the first that prac- 
 tised it in the said Abbey." Stowe, however, 
 is mistaken in the person who was abbot in the 
 year mentioned. It was not Islep, but DJT.
 
 CAXTON. 171 
 
 Thomas Milling, a man famous for his kaow- 
 ledge of Greek in that period. 
 
 In 1479, a printing press was also established 
 at Oxford ; and not long after at St. Albans. 
 
 Printing was first performed by means of 
 wooden types, fastened very incommodiously 
 together, Caxton was the first who printed 
 with fusile types. His successor, Wynkin de 
 W.orde, added some improvements to the art, 
 and particularly introduced musical notes, and, 
 as some suppose, the Roman numerals. Pyn- 
 son, by extraction a Norman, was the first who 
 used the Roman character. The introduction 
 of the paper-manufactory also into England, 
 in the reign of Henry VIII. or perhaps towards 
 the close of the reign of Henry VII. contri- 
 buted to facilitate and augment the improve- 
 ments in the typographical art. 
 
 Caxton was a man of great modesty and 
 simplicity of character, joined with indefatiga- 
 ble industry. He commonly stiles himself " sim- 
 ple William Caxton." He continued to pre- 
 pare copy for the press even to the last ; and 
 though his talents were not brilliant, his great, 
 his incalculable services to mankind, in being 
 the instrument of introducing an art, of all 
 others the most widely and permanently bcne-
 
 \~1 CAXTOJC. 
 
 ficiul, entitle him to the eternal thanks of the 
 human race ; and we would willingly afford him 
 higher commendation, than 'the equivocal 
 praise hestowed upon him by Bale, who says 
 that he was " vir non omnino stupidus, out ig- 
 naria torpens ; sed propaganda, suat gentis me- 
 moriic, studiosus admodum." His last work was 
 a translation from the French, of a large vo- 
 lume, entitled "The Holy Lives of the Fa- 
 thers Hermits, living in the Deserts," a work 
 which he finished, together with his life, on the 
 same day, in the year 1491. 
 
 The books printed by Caxton, were very nu- 
 merous, amounting in the whole to nearly 
 sixty. A great number of these he translated, 
 as well as printed ; and those which he did not 
 translate, he often revised and altered ; so that 
 in point of language, they may be considered 
 as his own. Of a few of these books, I shall 
 now proceed to give extracts, with a brief ac- 
 count of each. Those who are desirous of a 
 more complete view than is compatible with 
 the object of this work, may consult the Life of 
 Caxton, by Lewis, or Ames's Typographical 
 Antiquities; as likewise Bowyer's Essays, on the 
 -ame subject, with other sources.
 
 ( 173 ) 
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 I HIS book was first translated from a French 
 Chronicle (MSS. Harl. 200, 4to.) written in the 
 beginning of the reign of Edward III. The 
 French have also a famous ancient prose Ro- 
 mance, called Brut, which includes the his- 
 tory of the Saugreal ; but I know not whether 
 this is the same with the English copy. 
 
 These Chronicles were printed by Caxton, 
 in 1480, in the 20th of Edward IV. They 
 were also printed, together with the " Fruit of 
 Times," in a thick short folio, in 1483, at St. 
 Albans. Hence they have been called the 
 Book of St. Albans, and the Chronicle of St. 
 Albans. In this edition, which was re-printed 
 by Wynkin de Worde, in 1497, X the names of 
 the authors, from whom it was chiefly com- 
 piled, are enumerated; viz. " 1. Galfridus 
 Monrnouth, monk, in his book of Brute ; 2. 
 S. Bede, in the Acts of England, in his book 
 of Times ; 3. Gildas, in the Acts of Britain; 4. 
 William of Mahnsbury, monk ; in the Acts of 
 the Kings of England and Bishops ; 5. Cassio- 
 dorus, of the Acts of Emperors and Bishops ;
 
 174 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 6. St. Austin de CivitaleDei; 7. Titus Living 
 de Gestis Romanomm ; 8* Martin, peniten- 
 tiary to the pope, in his Chronicles of Empe- 
 rors and Bishops ; 9 and lastly, Theobaldus 
 Cartusiensis, containing in his book the pro- 
 gress of' all notable fathers, from the beginning 
 of the world unto our time, with the notable 
 acts of the same." 
 
 This work is divided into seven parts ; of 
 which the last makes half the book, and begins 
 at the conquest. In the prologue, the au- 
 thor proposes to continue these Chronicles, 
 " from the Normans to our time, which is un- 
 der the reign of king Edward IV. the 23d 
 year, whose noble Chronicles, by custom, may 
 not be seen." The writer, however, was pro- 
 bably prevented By death, from completing his 
 design : for at the end of his Chronicle, he 
 does not descend so low by nearly a dozen 
 years ; and the last paragraph ends with the 
 popedom of Sixtus IV. who .was elected in 
 1471, and was still living, " At the making of 
 this book,'' which concludes by saying, " that 
 John Abbot, of Habingdon, was the pope's le^ 
 gate in England, to dispose of the treasure of 
 the church, to withstand the misbelieveable 
 Turk," 2cc.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 175 
 
 The book first mentioned, printed by Cax- 
 ton, is likewise divided into seven parts ; mid 
 also into 263 chapters. The last, or 263d, 
 treats " Of the Deposition of king Henry VI. 
 and how king Edward IV. took possession of 
 the realm ; and of the battle on Palm-Sunday; 
 and how he was wounded."" 
 
 The Chronicles, as printed by Caxton, were - 
 common before the introduction of printing. 
 In those times of popery, no English Chroni- 
 cle was so generally read ; nor any, for above 
 150 years after, so often reprinted ; amount- 
 ing in the whole, to five or six impressions, in 
 the space of thirty years. To the latter edi- 
 tions is annexed, " The Description of Eng- 
 land," taken from the Polychronicon. Pyn- 
 son's edition concludes with a short Latin epi- 
 logue, briefly enumerating the kings of Eng- ' 
 land from the conquest. 
 
 As the fabulous history of Britain may not 
 be familiar to all my readers, it may be enter- 
 taining to such persons, to know who were its 
 aboriginal inhabitants, according to the ac- 
 count, and in the language of these early Chroni- 
 cles. 1 shall therefore lay before the reader, the 
 story of the first peopling of our island, together 
 with the legend of Brute, entire. But previ-
 
 17(5 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND* 
 
 ous to this, it may be proper to premise, that 
 the story of Brute and his Trojans, is taken, 
 from Geoffrey of Monniouth ; and for the be- 
 nefit of the uninformed reader, to give a brief 
 statement of the origin of this romantic fable, 
 with others contained in that ancient histo- 
 rian. 
 
 About the year 1100, Walter Mapes, arch- 
 deacon of Oxford, in his travels through France, 
 procured in Armorica, or Bretagne, an ancient 
 chronicle, entitled Brut-y-Brenhined ; i. e. the 
 History of the Kings of Britain. On his re- 
 turn to England, he communicated the MS. 
 to Geoffrey of Monmouth, a Welch benedic- 
 tine monk, with a request that he would trans- 
 late it into Latin. In this translation, Geoffrey 
 has interwoven various traditions from the tes- 
 timony of his friend, the archdeacon, who learnt 
 them in Armorica ; and also has probably ad- 
 ded others known to himself, as popular in 
 Wales. In particular, some part of the account of 
 king Arthur's achievements, he acknowledges 
 to have received from the mouth of Walter ; 
 and confesses that Merlin's prophecies were not 
 in the Armorican original. Geoffrey's transla- 
 tion was probably finished after the year 1138. 
 
 Mr. Warton supposes that the British ori-
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 177 
 
 ginal consisted of fables thrown out by different 
 rhapsodists, at different times, whichwere after- 
 wards collected and digested into an entire his-> 
 tory, perhaps with new decorations of fancy by 
 the compiler, whom he conjectures to have been 
 one of the professed bards, or rather, a poetical 
 historian of Armorica, or Basse Bretagne ; and 
 that in this state it fell into the hands of Geof- 
 frey of Monmouth. This Chronicle, divested 
 of its romantic embellishments, deduces the 
 Welch princes from the Trojan Brutus to Cad- 
 \vallader, who reigned in the seventh century. 
 
 It is remarkable, that this humour of tracing 
 their descent from Troy, prevailed from the 
 sixth and seventh centuries downwards, among 
 most of the European nations. Hunnibakhis 
 Francus, in his Latin history of France, begin- 
 ning with the Trojan war, and ending with 
 Clovis the First, ascribes the origin of the 
 French nation to Francio^ a son of Priam. 
 And even the Greeks did not escape the pre- 
 posterous ambition of being thought to be de- 
 scended from their ancient and notorious ene- 
 mies. This absurd emulation, among the Eu- 
 ropean nations, for the lionour of a Trojan al- 
 liance., is supposed by Warton, to have origi- 
 nated from the revival of Virgil's ^Eneid, about 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 the sixth or seventh century, which represent- 
 ed the Trojans as the founders of Rome, the 
 capital of the supreme pontiff, and a city 
 which, in the early ages of Christianity, was 
 regarded with a sort of reverential admiration. 
 The monks and other ecclesiastics, the only 
 readers and writers of the age, were interested 
 in propaging the opinion ; and in proportion 
 as the barbarous European nations received a 
 tincture of literature, they eagerly imbibed the 
 prevalent fashion of deducing their original 
 from some of the nations the most renowned 
 in ancient story. Some nations boasted their 
 descent from some of the generals of Alexan- 
 der the Great; from Prusias of Bithynia; 
 from the Greeks, or the Egyptians. The Bri- 
 tons, as likewise other European nations, who 
 were long provincial to Rome, probably de- 
 rived their notions of Trojan extraction, from 
 their conquerors. 
 
 The legend of Brutus, with the history of 
 his successors, is presumed not to have been 
 contrived, till after the ninth century ; since 
 Kennius, who florishcd about the middle of 
 that century, though he gives an obscure out- 
 line of the story of Brutus, is totally uninform- 
 ed respecting the affairs of Britain, prior to Ca--
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 17D 
 
 sar's invasion. Again, Alfred's translation of the 
 Mercian law, is mentioned ; and Charlemagne's 
 twelve peers are said to have been present at king 
 Arthur's magnificent coronation in the city of 
 Gaerleon anachronisms not uncommon in ro- 
 mance. "It were easy (says War ton,) to pro- 
 duce instances that this Chronicle was un- 
 doubtedly framed after the legend of St. Ur- 
 sula, the acts of St. Lucius, and the histori* 
 cal writings of the venerable Bede, had under* 
 gone some degree of circulation in the world.'* 
 Some parts of it again must have been written 
 as low down, or after the eleventh century : for 
 Canute's Forest, or Cannock-Wood, in Staf 
 fordshire, occurs; and Canute died in 1036. 
 Moreover, at the ideal coronation of king Ar- 
 thur, a splendid tournament is described; and 
 tournaments did not exist, in all their peculiat 
 formalities and ceremonious usages, till several 
 centuries after the time of Arthur. The bu* 
 rial of Hengist too, the Saxon chief, who is 
 said to have been interred not after the Pagan 
 fashion, but after the manner of the Soldans, 
 conspires with the above arguments, to prove 
 that the Chronicle in question was compiled 
 About the time of the crusades : for it was sub-^ 
 sequent" to those holy expeditions, that the 
 N 2
 
 ISO THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 soldans or sultans of Babylon, of Egypt, of 
 Iconium, and other Eastern kingdoms, became 
 familiar in Europe. 
 
 The conclusion, however, of Warton, that 
 the fictions in Geoffrey of Momnouth, instead 
 of being fabricated by the Welsh bards, are 
 all inventions of Arabian origin, seems to re- 
 quire important limitations. Mr. Ellis, in the 
 introductory sections to his " Specimens of 
 early English Metrical Romances," 1805, sup- 
 poses, with greater appearance of probability, 
 " that the scenes and characters of our roman- 
 tic histories, were very generally, though not 
 exclusively, derived from the Britons, or from 
 the Welsh of this island ; that much of the 
 colouring, and perhaps some particular ad- 
 ventures, may be of Scandinavian origin ; 
 and that occasional episodes, together with 
 part o^ the machinery, may have been bor- 
 rowed from the Arabians." It is unnecessary ^ 
 in this place, to enter further into the contro- 
 versy, to which difference of opinion on this 
 subject has given birth ; and particularly, as 
 Mr. Ellis, in the publication above alluded to, 
 has treated it at considerable length. I shall 
 simply exhibit, therefore, his general con- 
 clusion from the whole ; referring the reader
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. LSI 
 
 for a detailed account of the dispute, to his 
 preliminary essays. 
 
 It has been asserted, that Geoffrey of Mon- 
 inouth invented a very considerable part of 
 the Chronicle, which he professed to translate 
 from a British original ; since the fables it 
 contains are calculated to give an exaggerated 
 idea of British greatness. But the outline of 
 the fable of Brutus is contained in !Nennius, 
 who traces the genealogy of that prince up to 
 Adam. The same historian also gives a cir- 
 cumstantial account of Merlin. Hence, the 
 invention of these tales must be placed three 
 centuries prior to Geoffrey". Mr. Ellis sup- 
 poses, moreover, that the Chronicle in question 
 was fabricated gradually; and progressively 
 erected on the foundation of JXennius's His- 
 tory ; and concludes generally, " that Geof- 
 frey's Chronicle is, as it professes to be, a 
 translation from some British original; and 
 that this original was compiled between the 
 ninth and twelfth centuries, and presents a 
 faithful picture of the traditions and fables 
 then received as history." 
 
 To proceed now to the story. The author 
 begins with observing:
 
 182 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Before that I will speak of Brute, it shall be 
 shewed how the land of England was first named AU 
 bioji," and by what enc/icson 1 it was so named. 
 
 Of the noble land of Syria, there was a royal king 
 and mighty, and a man of great renown, that was 
 called Dioclesian, that well and worthily him go- 
 verned and ruled thro' his noble chivalry ; so that he 
 conquered all the lands about him ; so that almost 
 all the kings of the world to him were attendant. 
 It befel thus that this Dioclesian spoused a gentle 
 damsel that was wonder fair, that was his uncle's 
 daughter, Labana. And she loved him as reason 
 would ; so that he gat upon her thirty-three daugh- 
 ters ; of the which the eldest was called Albine. 
 And these damsels, when they came unto age, became 
 so fair that it was wonder. Whereof Dioclesian 
 anon let make a summoning, and commanded by his 
 letters, that all the kings that held of him should 
 come at a certain day, as in his letters were con-* 
 tained, to make a feast royal. At which day, thi- 
 ther they came, and brought with them admirals, 
 princes, and dukes, and noble chivalry. The feast 
 yvas royally arrayed ; and there they lived in joy 
 ?,nd mirth enough^ that it was wonder to -wyte. And 
 it befel thus, that Dioclesian thought to marry his 
 daughters among all those kings that were of that 
 solemnity. And so they spake and did, that Albine, 
 
 >.hance.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 183 
 
 his eldest daughter, and all her sisters, richly were 
 married, unto thirty-three kings, that were lords of 
 great honour and of power at this solemnity. And 
 when the solemnity was done, every king took his 
 wife, and led them into their own country, and there 
 i made them queens. 
 
 And it hefel them, afterward, that this dame Al- 
 bine became so stout and so stern, that she could 
 little prise of her lord, and of him had scorn and 
 despite, and would not do his will, but she would 
 have her x o\vn will in divers matters. And all her 
 other sisters every one bare them so evil against 
 their lords, that it was wonder to tvt/tc. And foras- 
 much that them thought, that their husbands were 
 not of so high parentage come as their father. But 
 those kings, that were their lords, would have chas- 
 tised them with fair manner, upon all love and friend- 
 ship, that they should amend their self-willed condi- 
 tions ; but all was for nought: for they did their 
 own will in all thing that they liked, and had of 
 power. Wherefore those thirty-three kings, upon a 
 time, and oftimes, beat their wives : for they willed 
 that they would amend their tatches and their wick- 
 edness. But of such conditions they were, that for 
 fair speech and warning, they did all the worse ; and 
 for heatings oftentimes much the worse. Wherefore the 
 king that had wedded Albine, wrote the tatches and 
 conditions of his wife Albine, and sent the letter to
 
 1S4 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Dioclesian, his father. And when the other kings 
 heard that Albine's lord had sent a letter to Diocle- 
 sian ; anon, they sent letters, sealed with their seals, 
 the conditions and tatchcs of their wives. When the 
 king Dioclesian saw and heard so many plaints of 
 his daughters, he was sore ashamed, and became 
 wonder angry and wroth toward his daughters, and 
 thought how he thence might amend it that they so 
 misdid; and anon sent his letters unto the thirty- 
 three kings, that they should come to him, and bring 
 with them their wives, every one at a certain day : 
 /or he would then chastise them of their wickedness, 
 if he might in any manner wise. 
 
 So the kings came all at that time and day, that 
 then was set between him and the kings. Diocle- 
 eian received them with much honour, and made a 
 Solemn feast to all that were underneath his lord- 
 ship. And the third day after that solemnity, the 
 king Dioclesian sent after his thirty-three daughters, 
 that they should come and speak with him in his 
 chamber. And when they were come, he spake to 
 them of their wickedness, and of their cruelty, and 
 spitefully them reproved and blamed. And to them 
 he said, that if they would not be chastised ', they 
 should his love lose for evermore. 
 
 And when the ladies heard all this, they became 
 
 1 amended.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 185 
 
 abashed, and greatly ashamed ; and to their father 
 they said, that they would make all amends ; and so 
 they departed out of their father's chamber. 
 
 And dame Albine, that was the eldest sister, led 
 them all to her chamber ; and then made to void all 
 that were therein ; so that no person was among 
 them, but she and her sisters together. Then said 
 Albine : my fair sibters, well we know that the king, 
 our father, us hath reproved, shamed, and despised, 
 for because to make us obedient unto our husbands. 
 But certes that shall I never, whilst that I live ; 
 st/th that I am come of a more higher king's blood 
 than mine husband. And when she had thus said, all 
 her sisters said the same. And then, said Albine. 
 well I rcote fair sisters, that our husbands have com- 
 plained unto our father upon us ; wherefore he has 
 thus foul reproved and despised. Wherefore, sisters, 
 my counsel is, that this night, \vhen our husband* 
 ben a^bed, all we, with one assent, for to cut their 
 throats ; and then we may be in peace of them. And 
 better we now do this thing, un,der our father's pow- 
 er, than other where else. And anon, all the ladies 
 consented, and granted to this counsel. And when 
 night was come, the lords and ladies went to bed. 
 And anon, as their lords were asleep, they cut all 
 their husbands' throats ; and so they slew them all. 
 
 When that Dioclesian, their father, heard of this 
 thing, he became furiously wroth against his daugh-
 
 185 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 ters, and anon, would them all have brcnte 1 . But all 
 the barons and lords of Syria, counseled not so for to 
 do such strait ness*, to his own daughters ; but only 
 should void the land of them for evermore ; so that 
 they never should come again ; and so he did. 
 
 And Dioclesian, that was their father, anon com- 
 manded them to go into a ship, and delivered to them 
 victuals for half a year. And when this was done, all 
 the sisters went into the ship, and sailed forth in the 
 sea, and took all their friends to Apolin, that was 
 their God. And so long they sailed in the sea, till 
 at the last they came and arrived in an isle, that 
 was all wilderness. And when dame Albine was 
 come to that land, and all her sisters, this Albine 
 went first forth out of the ship, and said to her other 
 sisters : for as much (said she,) as I am the eldest sis- 
 ter of all this company, and first this land hath taken ; 
 and for as much as my name is Albine, I will that 
 this land be called Albion, after mine own name. 
 And anon, all her sisters granted to her with a good 
 will. 
 
 And tho went out all the sisters of the ship, and 
 took the land Albion, as their sister called it. And 
 there they went up and down, and found neither 
 man, ne woman, nc child j but wild beasts of di- 
 vers kinds. And when the victual were dispended, 
 and they failed, they fed them with herbs and fruits, 
 
 1 burnt. 3 strictrcss.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 187 
 
 in the season of the year ; and so they lived as they 
 best might. And after that, they took flesh of di- 
 vers beasts, and became wonder fat ; and so they 
 desired man's company, and man's kind that them 
 failed. And for heat, they waxed wonder courageous 
 of kind, so that they desired more man's company, 
 than any other solace and mirth. 
 
 When the devil that perceived, [he] went by di- 
 vers countries, and took a body of the air, and liking 
 natures shed of men ; and came into the land of Al- 
 bion, and lay by those women, and shed those na- 
 tures upon them, and they conceived, and after 
 brought forth giants, Of the which one was called 
 Gogmagog, and another Longherigam ; and so they 
 were named by divers names. And in this manner 
 there came forth and were born horrible giants in 
 Albion. And they dwelled in caves and hills, at 
 their will, and had the land of Albion as them liked, 
 unto the time that Brute arrived, and came to Tot- 
 ness, that was in the isle of Albion. And there this 
 Brute conquered and discomfited the giants abo.ve- 
 iaid. 
 
 Explicit prima pars* 
 
 Here bcginneth now how Brute was gotten, end how he 
 slew first his mother, and after his father. And how
 
 188 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 lie conquered Albhn ; that after lie named Britain., 
 after //w Ocr name, that now is called England, after 
 the name of Engi.it, of Saxony. This Brute came 
 into Britain, about the 18th year of Hely. 
 
 Be it known, that in the noble city of Great Troy, 
 there was a noble knight, and a man of great power", 
 tluityas called /Eneas. And when the city of Troy 
 was lost and destroyed thro' them of Greece, this 
 .-Eneas, with all his men, fled thence, and came to 
 J.ombardv. There then was lord and governor of the 
 land, a king that was called Latyne; and another 
 king there was that was called Turocelyne, that 
 strongly warred upon this king Latync, that often- 
 times did him much harm. And when tbis king 
 Lafyne heard that yEneas was come, he received him 
 with much honour, and him inth&tld 1 , for as much 
 as he had heard of him, and tcist well that he was 
 a noble knight, and a worthy, of his body and his 
 deeds. This /Eneas helped king Idtyiie in his war ; 
 and shortly for to tell, so well and so worthily he 
 did, that he slew Turocelyne, and discomfited him 
 and all his people. 
 
 And when all this was dene, king Latyne gave all 
 that land that was Turoeelyne's, to this noble man 
 ./Eneas, in marriage with Lavyne, his daughter, the 
 most fairest creature that any man -a-iit. And they 
 
 1 detained.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 189 
 
 lived together in joy and mirth, all the days of their 
 life time. 
 
 And after, Ascanius, son to /Eneas, wedded a wife. 
 And upon her he gat a son, that was called Syl- 
 vyne. And this Silvyne when he could l some reason 
 of man, vnwccting 2 his father and against his will, 
 acquainted him with a damsel that was cousin to 
 Lavyne, that was king Latyne's daughter, the queen 
 that was Jineas's wife, and brought the damsel with 
 child. And when Ascanius, his father it -mint, anon 
 let inquiry of the wisest masters, and of the greatest 
 clerks, what child the damsel should bring forth r 
 And they answered and said, that she should bring 
 forth a son, that should kill both his father and also 
 his mother. And so he did : for Jiis mother died in 
 bearing of him. And when this child was-born, his 
 father let call him Brute. And the masters said 
 that he should do much harm and sorrow in manju 
 divers places ; and after, he should come to great ho- 
 nour and worship. This king Ascanius died when 
 God would ; and Silvyne, his son, received the land, 
 and made him wonderfully well beloved among his 
 people. And so when Brute, that was Silvyne's son t 
 was fifteen year old, lie went upon a day with his 
 father, for to play and solace. And as Brute should 
 have shot unto an hart, his arrow mishapped and 
 glanced, and so there Brute slew his father. 
 
 1 knew. unknowing.
 
 190 THE CHRONICLES Ot 
 
 flow Brute was driven out of the land, and how he hdct 
 him in Greece* 
 
 And when this mischance was befall, all the people 
 of the land made sorrow enough , and were sore an angred k 
 And for enckcson thereof, they drove Brute out of the 
 land, and would not suffer him among them. And when 
 he saw that he might not there abide, he went from 
 thence into Greece, and there he found seven thou- 
 sand men that were of the lineage and kindred of 
 Troy, that were come of great blood, as the story 
 telleth, as of men and women, and children, the 
 which were all hold in thraldom and bondage of the 
 king Pandras, of Greece, for the death of Achilles, 
 that was betrayed and slain at Troy. This Brute 
 was a wonder fair man, and a strong and a huge of his 
 age, and of glad cheer and semblant ', and also wor- 
 thy of body, and was well beloved among his peo- 
 ple. This king Pandras heard speak of his good* 
 ness, and his conditions, and anon made him dwell 
 with him, so that Brute became wonder priiy*, and 
 much beloved with the king; so that long time 
 Brute dwelled with the king. ' 
 
 So at the last, they of Troy and Brute spake to- 
 get her of kindred and of lineage, and of acquaint- 
 ance. And they plained them unto Brute of their 
 
 1 appearance. a intimate.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 sorrow, and of their bondage, and of many other 
 shames that the king Pandras had them done. 
 And unto Brute they said upon a time, ye be a lord 
 of our lineage, and a strong man and a mighty; ye 
 be our captain and lord, and governor, and we will 
 become your men, and your commandments do in all 
 manner of things. And bring us out of this wretched- 
 ness and bondage, and we will fight with the king 
 for truth. With the grace of the Great God, we 
 shall him overcome ; and we shall make you king of 
 the land, and to you do homage, arid of you we shall 
 hold evermore. 
 
 Brute had tho great pity of their bondage that they 
 were brought in ; and prively went then from the 
 king's court. And tho, them that were of Troy, 
 went and put them into woods, and into mountains, 
 and them there held ; and sent unto king Pandras, 
 that he should give them leave safely for to wend 1 
 cut of the land : for they would no longer dwell, in 
 his bondage. 
 
 The king Pandras wexed tko sore annoyed, and 
 tho swore that he should sice them every one ; and 
 ordained a great power, and went toward them all for 
 to fight. But Brute and his men manly them de- 
 feated, and fiercely fought and slew all the king's 
 men, that none of them escaped ; and took the king, 
 and held him in prison, and ordained council between
 
 192 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND* 
 
 them what they might done 1 . And some said, that 
 he should be put to death ; and some said that he 
 should be exiled out of the land ; and some said that 
 he should be brent. 
 
 And then spake a wise knight that v,-as called 
 Mempris, and said to Brute, and to all those of Troy : 
 " If king Pandras would yield him and have his life, 
 I counsel that he give unto Brute that is our duke, 
 and our sovereign, his daughter Gennogen to a wife ; 
 and in marriage with her, a hundred ships, well ar- 
 rayed, and all his treasure of gold and silver ; of corn 
 and of wine ; and as much as vte need to have of one 
 thing and another. And thence go we out of this land, 
 and ordain us a land elsewhere : for we, ne none of 
 our kindred that come after us, shall never have 
 peace in this land, among them of Greece. For we 
 have slain so many of their knights and other 
 friends, that evermore war andconfact* should, be 
 among us." 
 
 Brute tho, and all his folk, consented well to that 
 counsel. And this thing they told to king Pandras. 
 And he, for to have his life, granted as much as they 
 axed ; and anon gave unto Brute, Genongen, his 
 daughter to wife, and a hundred ships, with as much 
 as them needed of all victuals, as afore was or- 
 dained. 
 
 Brute tho took his wife and his men, that forsook 
 
 1 do. conflict.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 the land of Greece, and went them unto the sea, and 
 had wind and weather at their will, and came the 
 third day into an isle that was called Lorgers. This 
 Brute, anon, sent of his men aland for to espy the 
 manner of the country. And they found an old city 
 all wasted andforlet 1 , that there was therein neither 
 man, woman, ne nothing dwelling ; and in the mid- 
 dle of this city they found an old temple of a fair 
 lady, that was called Diana, the goddess. And 
 they came again unto Brute, and told him what 
 they had seen and found. And they counselled 
 him to go and do sacrifice uato dame Diana: 
 for she was wont to give answer of whatever 
 men prayed, and namely unto them that her ho- 
 noured with sacrifice. Brute went unto that yamge* 
 and said, " Diana, noble goddess, that all thing 
 hast in thy might and power, winds, waters, woods, 
 field, and all things of the world, and all manner of 
 beasts that there are, to you I make my prayer, that 
 ye me counsel and tell, where, and in what place, I 
 shall have a covenablc ' dwelling for me and for my peo- 
 ple ; and there I shall make, in honour of you, a well 
 fair temple and a noble, wherein ye shall alway be 
 honoured." 
 
 When he had done his prayer, Diana answered in 
 this manner : " Brute, (said she) go even forth thy 
 way over the sea into France, towards the west, and 
 
 ' deserted. 9 fane ? ' convenient. 
 
 VOL, I. O
 
 194 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 there ye shall find an isle that is called Albion ; and 
 that isle is becompassed all with the sea ; and no man 
 may come therein, but 1 it be by ships. And in that 
 land were wont to dwell giants ; but now it is not so, 
 but all wilderness. And that land is destined and 
 ordained for you and for your people/* 
 
 How Corin became Brute's man ; and how Icing Gojfai; 
 
 was discwnjitted. 
 
 * i 
 
 Then when Brute had this answer from Diana, the 
 goddess, anon he let the anchors wind up, and sailed 
 into the high sea. And when he and his men had 
 sailed twenty-two days and more, they found, fast by 
 the coast of the sea, a thousand men of the lineage 
 and kindred of Troy. And their sovereign and their 
 master of all, was called Corin. And when Brute 
 wist whence they were, he tho took them, with much 
 joy into his ships, and led them forth with him. 
 Then Corin there became Brute's man, and to him 
 did homage. 
 
 And so long they saileo. forth in the sea, until they 
 came unto Gascoigne ; and anon they arrived in the 
 haven of Lyegres, and there they dwelled eight days, 
 them for to rest, and their sails to mend there that it 
 was need. Tidings soou came to king Goffar, that 
 
 1 unless.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 195 
 
 was lord of that land, how that much people, of 
 strange land, were arrived into his land, in the haven 
 of Lyegres. Wherefore, he was sore angred and an- 
 noyed that they came and arrived in his land with- 
 out his licence and his leave ; and anon ordained 
 him a great power for to drive out Brute, and to de- 
 stroy him and all his people. But it was so, that 
 king Goffar was discomfitted and all his people; and 
 himself fled into France, there for help and succour. 
 And in that time reigned in France twelve kings ; 
 and an eleven of them assembled a great power for to 
 help Goffar, and for to fight against Brute. This 
 Goffar dwelled with them of France half a year and 
 more. And in the mean time when Goffar was in 
 France, Brute and his company destroyed all the 
 land of Gascoigne, and let take all the treasure that 
 king Goffar had, and there let bring it all into his 
 ships. And this Brute found in that land a fair 
 place and covenable ; and there Brute made a fair cas- 
 tle and a strong. 
 
 When that this was done, king Goffar came from 
 France, and eleven kings with him, and brought 
 with him twenty thousand men, for to fight with 
 Brute and his company. And Brute had but seven 
 thousand and three hundred men. And nevertheles?, 
 when the two hosts met together, Brute's folk, tho- 
 rough help of himself, and of Turin, his cousin, and 
 of Corin, that well and manly him defended, fought 
 'o 2
 
 196 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 so till that in little time they had slain of the 
 Frenchmen two thousand and more. Anon, all 
 that were alive fled away. And in this battle Tu- 
 rin, Brute's cousin, was slain. And Brute let inter 
 him worthily, when he had space and leisure, in the 
 castle that he had made, and tho let call that castle 
 Tourcs, for because of the name of Turin, that there 
 was interred. And yet, unto this day, there is a no- 
 ble city, that is called Tourcs. 
 
 And [when] king Goffar wist that Turin was dead, 
 he came again with his men, and after gave a strong 
 battle unto Brute ; but Brute and his men were so 
 weary for fighting, that they might no longer en- 
 dure, but to megre 1 , him and all his. And then 
 Brute yede* into his castle with his men, and made 
 the gates fast for to save them, and for to take coun- 
 cil among them, what were best for to do. Brute 
 and Corin gave council, and ordained prively, that 
 Corin should go out and busk him 3 in a wood, till on 
 the morn ; so that in the morning, when that Brute 
 should fight with his enemies, then Corin should 
 come with his folk, in the one side, and slay and do 
 all the harm that he might. And in a morning, in 
 the dawning of the day, Brute went out of the cas- 
 tle, and fiercely fought with his enemies ; and they 
 manly defended them. But within a little time, 
 
 1 without diminishing. * went. 3 lie in ambuscade.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 1Q7 
 
 Brute and his folk slew eight hundred of king Gof- 
 far's men. 
 
 Then came Corin with the bushment 1 , and smote 
 to ground, he and his company, all those that would 
 stand or abide. So that the king Goffar and his 
 company were discomfitted. And fast they began 
 to flee, and Brute and Corin, with their company, 
 fiercely them pursued, and slew more of them in 
 the flying, than they did in the battle. And in this 
 manner Brute had the victory. And nevertheless, 
 Brute made much sorrow for his cousin Turin, that 
 there was slain, and other also that he had lost of 
 his men ; that is to say, seven hundred and fifteen ; 
 the which nobly he interred in the same castle of 
 Toures, there where he had interred Turin, his cousin. 
 
 How Brute arrived at Totness in the isle then culled Al- 
 bion, ana of the battle that icas betwixt Corin and 
 Gogmagog. 
 
 So when all this was done, Brute would no lon- 
 ger there dwell, for to fight, nor for to lose no more 
 of his people : for king Goffar's people might every 
 day increase more and more, and Brute's lessen. 
 And, therefore, he took all his men, and went onto 
 
 i ambuscade.
 
 198 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 the sea, and had wind and weather as their will. 
 And the fifth day after, they arrived in an haven at 
 Totness, and came into the isle of Albion. And 
 there neither man nor woman, as the story telleth, 
 they found, but giants. And they dwelled in hills and 
 in caves. And Brute saw the land was fair and at his 
 liking, and was good also for him and for his peo- 
 ple, as Diana the goddess had him bchight 1 . And 
 therefore was Brute wonder glad, and let assembled, 
 upon a day, all his folk, to make a solemn sacrifice, 
 and a great feast in honour and reverence of Diana, 
 the goddess ; of the which he had council first for to 
 come into this land. And then, when that they had 
 their solemnity done, as they, upon a day, sat at their 
 meat, there came in upon them thirty giants, and 
 slew of Brute's men thirty. Brute and his men, anon 
 strcte up 9 , and fought with the giants, and slew them 
 every one, except one, that was called Gogmagog. 
 And he was master of ali-the giants ; and he was 
 stronger and higher than any other. And Brute 
 kept him : for because that he should wrestle with 
 Corin, that was Brute's man : for he was greater 
 and higher than any of Brute's men, from the gri- 
 ddstcdt 9 , upward. 
 
 Gogmagog and Corin, undertook there for to 
 wrestle. And so together they went, and wrestled n 
 long time ; but at the last, Gogmagog held Corin so 
 
 'foretold? 2 started up. 3 girdle's place ; the waist.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 199 
 
 fast,* that he brake two ribs of his side. Wherefore 
 Corin was sore angry. And there he took Gog- 
 magog betwixt his arms, and cast him down upon a 
 rock ; so that Gogmagog brake all to pieces ; and so 
 he died an evil death. And therefore, the place is 
 called unto this day, the Saute of Gogmagog. 
 
 And then after, Brute gave all that country unto 
 Corin. And there Cbrin called it after his name, 
 Cornewayl. And his men he called Cornewayles ; and 
 so should men of that country be called for ever- 
 more. And in that country dwelled Corin and his 
 men. And they made towns and house?, and inha- 
 bited the land by their own will. 
 
 How Brute builded London, and called this land Bri- 
 tain; and Scotland, Albine ; and Wales, Camber. 
 
 Brute and his men went forth, and saw about in 
 divers places, where that they might find a good 
 place and eovenable, that they might make a city for 
 him and his folk. And so at the last they came by a 
 fair river that is called Tatnys 1 . And there Brute be- 
 gan to build a fair city, and let call it New Troy, in 
 mind and resemblance of the great Troy, from the 
 which place all their lineage was come. And this 
 
 Thames,
 
 200 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Brute let fell down woods, and let ear and sow lands, 
 and also let mow down meadows, for sustenance of 
 him and his people. And then he departed 1 the land 
 to them; so that ereryche* of them had a part, and a 
 certain place for to dwell in. 
 
 And then Brute let call this land Britain, after his 
 own name, and his folk he let call Britons. And 
 this Brute had gotten on his wife Gennogen, three 
 sons, that were worthy of deeds. The first was call- 
 ed Lotrin ; the second, Albanak ; and the third, 
 Camhar. And Brute bare crown in the city of Troy, 
 twenty year after the time that the city was made. 
 And there he made the laws that the Britons hold. 
 And this Brute was wonderly well beloved among 
 all men. And Brute's sons also loved wonderly well 
 together. 
 
 And when Brute had sought all the land in length, 
 and also in breadth, he found a land that joined to 
 Britain, that was in the north ; and that land Brute 
 yave to Albanak, his son ; and let call it Albany, 
 after his name, that now is called Scotland. And 
 Brute found another country toward the west, and 
 gave that to Carnbar, hie other son, and let call it 
 Cambar, after his name, and now is called Wales. 
 And whea Brute had reigned twenty year, as before 
 he died in the city of New Troy. 
 
 7 divided. I cach.
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 201 
 
 In the description of Britain, by Harrison, 
 prefixed to Holinshed's Chronicle, the story of 
 the first peopling of this island, is mixed up of 
 partly true, and partly fabulous materials. 
 According to that historian, Britain was at first 
 " a. parcel of the Celtic kingdom, whereof Dis, 
 otherwise called Samothes, one of the sons of 
 Japhet, was the Saturn, or original beginner ; 
 and of him thenceforth, for a long time, 
 called Samothea." He arrived in 1910 from 
 the creation. But the succession of princes 
 descended from the line of Japhet, after having 
 continued during 341 years, was interrupted 
 by the invasion of dlbion, the son of Neptune, 
 (surnamed Mareoticus,) and Amphitrite, who 
 subdued Britain, and imposed on it his own 
 name. His reign, which lasted only seven 
 years, terminated with his life, on the following 
 occasion : Lestrigo, the brother of Albion, 
 was at this time king of Italy, and about to 
 be invaded by Hercules (then in Spain) who 
 had sworn eternal enmity to the whole race of 
 Osyris, the grandfather of Lestrigo, on ac- 
 count of their tyranny. Albion, and his bro- 
 ther Bergion, (who was supreme governor of 
 the Orcades), joined their forces to aid Les- 
 trigo in this extremity. But encountering 
 Hercules and his party, at the mouth of
 
 202 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Rhodanus, a terrible conflict ensued, in which 
 the British princes were finally discomfitted 
 and slain. The name of Albion, however, 
 remained to the country through a space of 
 5Q5 years; that is, till the time of Brute, 
 \vho arrived in 1127 before Christ, (for the 
 author is very accurate in his chronology,) 
 and 2840 after the creation. 
 
 The same author, in his fourth chapter, dis- 
 cusses the question, " Whether it is likely that 
 there were ever any giants, inhabiting in this 
 isler" And after mentioning numerous in- 
 stances of gigantic remains being found in 
 Britain and elsewhere, he cites the following 
 story from Trallianus, in support of the opi- 
 nion : 
 
 " In the days of Tiberius, the emperor, 
 (says he,) a corpse was left bare, or laid open, 
 after an earthquake, of which each tooth con- 
 tained twelve inches over, at the least. Now, 
 forasmuch as in such as be full-mouthed, each 
 chap hath sixteen teeth at the least, which is 
 thirty-two in the whole, needs must that the 
 wideness of this man's chaps be sixteen foot,and 
 the opening of his lips ten, A large mouth in 
 mine opinion, and not to feed with ladies of 
 iny time ; besides that, if occasion served it 
 was able to receive the whole body of a man,
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND. 203 
 
 I mean of such as florish in our clays. When 
 this carcass was thus found, every man mar- 
 velled at it, and good cause why. A messen- 
 ger also was sent unto Tiberius, the emperor, 
 to know his pleasure, whether he would have 
 the same brought over unto Rome, or not ? 
 but he forbade them ; willing his legate not to 
 move the dead out of his resting place, but ra- 
 ther to send him a tooth out of his head ; 
 which being done, he gave the same to a cun- 
 ning workman, commanding him to shape a 
 carcass, of light matter, after the proportion of 
 the tooth, that at the least, by such means, he 
 might satisfy his curious mind, and the phan- 
 tacies of such as are delighted with news. 
 
 "To be short, when the image was once 
 made, and set up an end, it appeared rather an 
 huge collossy, then the true representation of 
 the cascass of a man. And when it had stand 
 in Rome, until the people were weary of it, 
 and thoroughly satisfied with the sight there- 
 of, he caused it to be broken all in pieces, and 
 the tooth sent again to the carcass from whence 
 it came, willing them moreover to cover it di- 
 ligently, and in any wise not to dismember the 
 corpse, nor from thenceforth to be so hardy as 
 to open the sepulchre any more."
 
 ( 204 ) 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF ENGLAND. 
 
 CAXTON, about three months after his print- 
 ing the above Chronicles of England, printed 
 a little tract in folio, of the same size with 
 the Chronicles, which he called "The De- 
 scription of England, Wales, and Scotland, 
 and also Ireland." This book, as before ob- 
 served, is usually joined with the Chronicles; 
 and was printed from Trevisa's translation of 
 the Polychronicon. It was afterwards reprint- 
 ed with the " Fructus Temporum" &c. in the 
 edition of it by Julian Notary, in 151.5. The 
 following rubrics are prefixed : 
 
 " 1. Here followeth a little treatise, the 
 which treateth of the description of this land, 
 which of old time was named Albion, and after 
 Britain, and now is called England ; and 
 speaketh of the nobleness and worthyness of 
 the -
 
 DESCRIPTION OF ENGLAND. 20$ 
 
 " 2. It is so, that in many and divers places, 
 the common Chronicles of England are had, 
 and also now late enprinted. And for as much 
 as the description of this land, which of old 
 time was named Albion, and after Britain, is 
 not described, ne commonly had, tie the no^ 
 blesse and worthyness of the same, is not 
 known ; therefore I intend to set in this book, 
 the description of this said isle of Britain, and 
 with the commodities of the same." 
 
 This description consistsof twenty-nine chap- 
 ters ; and it has been observed by bishop Nichol- 
 son, in his English Historical Library, " That 
 from the conquest, down to the, reign of king 
 Henry VIII. our English geographers, have 
 either been very few, or the want of printing 
 has occasioned the loss of most of them ; and 
 that this of Caxton's is the only thing in its 
 kind which we have." Caxton, however, was 
 merely the printer of this book. 
 
 On the Laws of the Britons, and the Natncs of those' 
 Laws. 
 
 Dunwallo, that kyghte 1 Molliuncius, also made 
 first laws in Britain ; the which laws were called 
 
 1 is called.
 
 206 DESCRIPTION OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Molliuncius' laws, and were solemnly observed unto 
 William Conqueror's time. Molliuncius ordained 
 among his laws, that cities, temples, and ways that 
 leaden men thereto, and plowmen's solowes, should 
 have privilege and freedom for to save all men that 
 flee thereto for succour and refuge. 
 
 Then afterward Mercia, queen of Britons, that 
 was Gwytelinus* wife, (of her the province had the 
 name of Mercia, as some man suppose,) she made 
 a law full of wit and of reason, and was called Mer- 
 ckenc law. Giidas, that wrote the Chronicles and 
 Histories of the Britons, turned these two laws out of 
 Briton speech, into Latin. And afterward, king Alu- 
 rcdus turned all out of Latin into Saxon's speech, and 
 \vas called Marchene law. Also the king Aluredus 
 -wrote in English, and put to 1 another law, that higkt 
 West Saxon law. 
 
 Then afterwards Danes were lords in this land, 
 and so came forth the third law, that hect Dane- 
 law. Of these three laws, St. Edward III. made one 
 common law, that yet is called St. Edward's Law. 
 
 I hold it well done to write here and expowne 
 many terms of these laws : 1. Myndebntgh ; hurting 
 of honour and worship ; in French, blessure d'honneur. 
 2. Burbruck; in Fiench, bksaitrc de court oude cloys. 
 3. Grichbruche; breaking of peace. 4. Myskcn- 
 nynge; changing of speech in Court. 5. Shewing; 
 
 1 added.
 
 BESCRIPtlON OF ENGLAND. 207 
 
 setting forth of merchandize. 6. Hamsolcen, or 
 Hamfare, a rere 1 made in house.^-7. Forstalling; 
 wrong, or bette down* in the king's highway. 8. 
 Fritsoken; surety in defence. 9 Sak; forfeit. 10, 
 Soka ; suit of court; and thereof cometh Sokcn. 
 \\.Theam; suit of bondmen. 12. Fightiug-u-ytte ; 
 amersement for fighting. 13. Bloodwytte ; amerse- 
 ment for shedding of blood. 14. F lytwytte ; amends 
 for chydinge ' of blood. 15, Ltyncytlc ; amends for 
 lying by a bondwoman. 16. Gultwytte ; amends for 
 trespass. 17- Scot; a gadrynge to liork *of bayllyes.* 
 18. Hydage ; tallage for hydes of land.* lp. Dane-! 
 gheld; tallage given to the Danes, that was of every 
 bona taterre, that is, every ox-land three-pence. ^-20. 
 A Wepyintake, and an hundred, is all one : for the 
 country or towns were wont to give up wept/n, in the 
 coming of a lord. 21. Lestage ; custom challenged 
 in chcapings fares. 22. Stallage; custom for standr 
 ing in streets in fair time. 
 
 i The word rere probably signifies breach. There is some 
 difference, however, between Hamsoken and Hamfare. The 
 latter only implies a breach of the peace in a house ; the 
 former is the liberty or privilege of a house ; or the franchise 
 by which lords of manors were empowered to take cognizance 
 of such violations of the peace. 
 
 a beating down, cheapening ? ' shedding. 
 
 4 That is a collection by the bailiff of a manor, of the con- 
 tribution called Scot an assessment according to the ability of 
 the subject.
 
 208 DESCRIPTION OF ENGLAND. 
 
 The description of Wales is in verse. The 
 information it contains is nearly the same as 
 that already extracted from the Polychronicon, 
 and its source was undoubtedly the same ; un- 
 less, indeed, it were borrowed directly from 
 that Chronicle a supposition perhaps more 
 probable.
 
 ( 209 ) 
 
 THE FRUIT OF TIMES. 
 
 IN the compilation of this Chronicle, the 
 same authorities were probably resorted to, as 
 employed by Gower, in his Confessio Amantis\ 
 of which the three following are the principal : 
 Cassiodorus, Isidorus, and Godfrey of Viter- 
 bo ; to which may perhaps be added, the Ges<- 
 ta Romanorum. Cassiodorus wrote, at the 
 command of Theodoric king of the Goths, a 
 work named Chronicon Breve, beginning from, 
 Adam, and descending to the year 519 ; which 
 was deduced chiefly from Eusebius's Ecclesi- 
 astical History, The Chronicles of Prosper 
 and Jerom, with Aurelius Victor's Origin of 
 the Roman Nation. A translation of this 
 Chronicle into Italian, by Ludovico Dolce, 
 was printed in 1561. 
 
 Isidorus, called Hispalensis, who florished 
 in the seventh century, framed from the last 
 author, a Cromcon from Adam, to the time of 
 the emperor Heraciius, first printed in the 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 THE FRUIT OF TIMES. 
 
 year 1477. This also was translated into Ita- 
 lian, under the title of Cronica D'Isidoro, in 
 1480. It is sometimes called Chronica de sex 
 Mundi (Etalibus ; Imago Mundi Abreviatio 
 Temponim ; by the last of which titles, that of 
 Fnictus Temporum" was probably suggested. 
 It was continued by Isidorus Pacensis, from 
 610 to 754; which continuation was printed in 
 1634, fol. Pampelon, under the title Epitome 
 Imperatorum vel Arabum Ephemeridos una cum 
 Hispania Chronico. 
 
 Isidore also wrote a History or Chronicle 
 of the Goths, from the year 176, to the death 
 of king Sisebut, in the year 628. It is to be 
 found in Grotius's Collectio rerum Gothicarum, 
 p. 707. Amst. 1655. 8vo. 
 
 Godfrey of Viterbo was chaplain and no- 
 tary to three German emperors, and died in 
 J 190. He compiled in Latin, partly in prose, 
 and partly in verse, a Chronicle, entitled Pan- 
 theon, or Memoriae Seculorum, which com- 
 mences, according to the established practice 
 of the historians of the middle ages, with the 
 creation, and is brought down to the year 
 1186. The subject of the work, in the words 
 of the author, is the Old and New Testament; 
 and all the emperors and kings, which havc>
 
 THE FRUIT OF TIMES. 211 
 
 existed from the beginning of the world to his 
 own times ; of whom the origin, end, names, 
 and atchievements, are commemorated. The 
 authors, to whom this Chronicler-is indebted 
 for .his materials, are Josephus, Dion Cassius, 
 Strabo, Orosius, Hegesippus, Suetonius, So- 
 lirius, and Julius Africanus ; among whom it 
 is observable, there is not one of the purer 
 Roman historians. The same author wrote 
 also another Chronicle, called Speculum He- 
 gum, or the " Mirror of Kings," containing a 
 genealogy of the potentates, Trojan and Ger- 
 man, from Noah's flood, to the reign of the 
 emperor Henry VI. from the Chronicles of Ve- 
 nerable Bede, Eusebius, and Ambrosius. 
 
 Warton supposes the oldest edition of Gesta 
 Romanorum to be that entitled Tncipiunt Hys- 
 torie Notabiles, collects ex Gestis Romanorum } et 
 quibusdam aliis libris cum applicationibw eontn- 
 deni. It is supposed to have been printed be- 
 fore> or about the year 1473. Several other 
 editions succeeded ; after which, an English 
 translation of it wasr printed by Wynkyn de 
 Worde, without date ; and afterwards was pub- 
 lished, " A Record of ancient Histories, in La- 
 tin, Gesta Romanorum, perused, corrected, and 
 bettered, by R. Robinson, Lond. 1577." This
 
 <212 THE FRUIT OF TIMES. 
 
 book is remarkable for containing the story 
 of the Three Casketts, in Shakespear's Mer- 
 chants of Venice. The facts it records are 
 true and partly fabulous; but the compiler is 
 partly unknown. 
 
 As I have extracted so largely from the 
 " English Chronicle," I shall give from this 
 merely the short account of Pope Joan, which 
 is found near the end of the fifth part. 
 
 Johannes dnglicvs, of the nation of Majunhn, about 
 this time was pope. And she was a woman, arrayed 
 in man's garments ; but she profitted so in holy 
 scripture, that there was found none like her. Then 
 she was chosen pope ; but afterwards she was with 
 child. And when she should have gone openly in 
 procession, she travailed and deceased. And this is 
 the sixth pope, the which to this time had the name 
 of holiness, and were vicious. And this person, as 
 other popes were, was punished of God, ne she was 
 not numbered in the book of popes. 
 
 These comprehensive Chronicles, were so 
 multiplied in the middle ages, as to supersede 
 the classics, and other established authors, 
 whose materials they abridged. The plan of
 
 THE FRUIT OF TIMES. 213 
 
 the epitomizers was, to select those stories 
 only which suited the taste of the age ; and 
 thus furnished their co-temporaries with abun- 
 dance of marvellous and delectable histories, 
 designed less to give information, than to gra- 
 tify that passion of wonderment, which charac- 
 terises an uncultivated state of society. These 
 histories, which were totally devoid of taste and 
 appropriate phraseology, contributed greatly 
 to retard the improvement of the language ; 
 and particularly by precluding attention to 
 classical literature, which furnishes the exactest 
 models of refined taste, and of correct and ele- 
 gant composition. Still, however, it must be 
 admitted, that they had their uses in those 
 rude periods. They had the effect of weaning 
 men's minds from the perusal of legends, the 
 dullness of which is only surpassed by their ab- 
 surdity; and of alluring them by degrees, to 
 the study of real and rational history. At 
 length was awakened the curiosity to obtain 
 an accurate knowledge of historic transactions, 
 which led to the examination of original au- 
 thors, the genuine sources of authentic histo- 
 ry. There are some reasons too, why the 
 compositions in question ought not to be over- 
 looked even by more polished ages. They
 
 214 THE FRUIT OF TIMES. 
 
 contain curious pictures of the ignorance and 
 credulity of our ancestors ; and what is of still 
 greater consequence, they often preserve facts 
 derived from books which have perished. It 
 is conjectured with reason, that their plan of 
 deducing a perpetual history from the creation 
 to the writer's time, was borrowed partly from 
 Ovid, and partly from the Bible.
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 Legenda Aureo. 
 
 " WHEREIN been contained all the high and 
 great feasts of our Lord ; the feasts of our 
 blessed Lady ; the lives, passions, and miracles 
 of many other saints ; and other histories and 
 acts. Finished at Westminster, by William 
 Ctixton, 1483." This is the first edition of the 
 Golden Legend, in English. It was taken (as 
 Caxton himself informs us) from three several 
 books one in French, called La Legend 
 d'oree ; another in Latin ; and a third in Eng- 
 lish. Hence it appears, that his was not the 
 first English version. These different copies 
 varied in divers places. In particular, the 
 Latin and French copies, contained manj his- 
 tories not to be found in the English one. On 
 
 O 
 
 this account Caxton says, " I have written 
 one out of the said three books, which I have
 
 216 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 ordered otherwise than the said English Le- 
 gend, which was so tofore made." In the 
 following editions several of the lives and his- 
 tories are differently disposed. The edition 
 of which we are speaking, begins with the 
 advent, nativity, 8cc. of our Lord ; and lias at 
 the end, " The noble History of the Exposi- 
 tion of the Mass, and the Twelve Articles of 
 our Faith," which are wanting in the follow- 
 ing editions ; but, like the rest, it concludes 
 with " The Life of the holy Bishop Eras- 
 mus." 
 
 Another edition of this work was printed by 
 Caxton the same year; another by Julian No- 
 tary, in 1503 ; and a fourth, by Wynkin de 
 Worde. In this last edition we are told, 
 that it was stiled, " The Golden Legend," 
 because, " That as gold passeth all other 
 metals in value, so this Legend excelled 
 all other books." We are informed also, that 
 " it hath been diligently amended in divers 
 places, whereas great need was. Finished 
 27th day of August, the year of our Lord, 
 1527." 
 
 The word Legend was employed originally 
 to signify a book, formerly used in the Romish 
 churches, containing the lessons to be read in
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 21? 
 
 divine service. Hence, it was transferred to 
 the lives of saints and martyrs ; because from 
 these Legends, the chapters were read at ma- 
 tins, and in the refectories of the religious 
 houses. 
 
 The first known Legend was in Greek, and 
 written by Simon Metaphrastus 3 in the tenth 
 century. It contained the lives of saints, 
 adapted to every day in the year. The next 
 was the Golden Legend, written in Latin, and 
 containing a collection of the lives of Saints. 
 It was compiled by James de Varase, better 
 known by his Latin name of J. de Poragine, 
 vicar-general of the Dominicans, and after- 
 wards archbishop of Genoa, who died in. 1298. 
 It was eagerly received into the church, where 
 it maintained its reputation for a period of two 
 hundred years. 
 
 The Golden Legend was translated into 
 French by Jehan de Vignay, a monk hospi- 
 taller, about the year 1332. It was humour- 
 ously stiled, by the learned Claude Espence 
 Legenda Ferrea, as Thuanus reports ; but his 
 temerity subjected him to a public recantation 
 in the vear 1555.
 
 CIS THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 Legend of St. Dominic. 
 
 Dominic, was duke of the order of the Friars 
 preachers, and a noble father of the parts of Spain, 
 of a town named Callorega,"of the diocese of Oxony- 
 ense ; and his father was named Felix, and his mo- 
 ther Johane, of whom he came as of the flesh. And 
 his mother tofore that he was born, saw in her sleep 
 that she bare a little whelp in her belly, which bare 
 a brenning brend in his mouth ; and when he was is- 
 sued out of her womb, he brent all the world. 
 
 And also it seemed to a woman, that was godmo- 
 ther to him at the font, and held him, that the 
 child Dominic had a star right clear in his forehead, 
 which enlumined all the world. * ***** 
 
 And then began he to think of the establishment 
 of his order, and of what office it might be, for to 
 go and preach thro' the world, and for to en- 
 hance the Christian faith against the heretics. 
 And when he had dwelled ten year in the parts of 
 Thoulouse, after the death of the bishop of Oxony- 
 ense, unto the time that the council should be so- 
 lemnized at Latranense ; then he went to Rome, 
 with Faucon, bishop of Thoulouse, to the council 
 general, for to get of Innocent, the pope, that the 
 order, which is said the order of the preachers, might 
 be confirmed to him and to his successors. And the 
 pope would not lightly accord to this thing. And
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 219 
 
 then it happened on a night, that the pope saw in a 
 vision, that the church of Latranense was suddenly 
 menaced for to fall and overthrow. And as he be- 
 held it all aferde, he saw on that other side, St. Do- 
 minic refining against it, and sustained and bare it 
 up, and kept it fro falling. And then awoke the 
 pope, and understood the vision, and received joy- 
 ously the petition of the man of God, and bad that 
 he and his brethren should seek some rule approved, 
 and he would confirm it as his will. 
 
 And then St. Dominic came to his brethren, and 
 shewed to them what the pope had said ; and they 
 were of numoer about sixteen or seventeen friars, 
 which anon called council of the Holy Ghost, and 
 chose the rule of St. Austin, preacher and holy doc- 
 tor, and would, of one will, be in deed and name 
 preachers ; and established therewith some customs 
 more straiter in their living, which they took above, 
 and promised to keep them truly. 
 
 In this time, Innocent, the pope, died ; and Ho- 
 norius was made pope, and sovereign bishop of the 
 church ; and he gat of the same Honorius, the con- 
 firmation of his order, in the year of our Lord, 12 16. 
 * * * * * * * * 
 
 There was a scholar in the house of the friars 
 t Boloyne, for to hear "mass. And it happened that 
 St. Dominic sang the mass. And when it came to 
 the offering, t;he scholar went and kissed the hand of
 
 220 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 St. Dominic, with great devotion. And when he 
 had kissed it, he felt come out of his hand so great 
 sweetness, and so sweet an odour, as he ever had 
 felt tofore in his life. And fro then forth on, the ar- 
 dour and brennin^ of lechery began to wax cold in 
 him, so that he which tofore had been vain and 
 lecherous, was after so continent} that his flesh shone 
 all of clearness and chastity. And the flesh of St. 
 , Dominic, shone much of great chastity and purity, 
 
 of whom the odour cured the filths of the thought. 
 * * * * * # * * 
 
 He came to his last hour, in the year of our Lord 
 1221; and so slept in our Lord Jesu Christ, whose 
 departing out of this world was shewed the same 
 day, and the same hour, to the friar general, then 
 prior, of the preachers of Brixia. And afterward 
 to the bishop of the same city in this manner. For 
 
 ,as he slept a light sleep, the head inclined to a wall, 
 he saw the heaven opeo, and put down to the earth 
 two white ladders, of which' Jesu Christ and his mother 
 held the end on high. And the angels descended 
 
 and ascended, by the ladders, singing. In the midst 
 of the ladders, there was a seat set ; and upon the 
 seat sat St. Dominic, with his head covered like a 
 friar. And Jesu Christ and his mother, drew up the 
 ladders into heaven so high, that he that sat was lift up 
 into heaven, and then the opening of heaven was sheet \ 
 
 i shut.
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 fend closed. And then the same friar came to Bo- 
 logne, and found that the same day, and the same 
 hour, St. Dominic died. 
 
 St. Francis, Founder of the Friars Minors* 
 
 Francis, servant and friend of Almighty God, 
 was born in the city of Assyse, and was made a 
 merchant unto the 25th year of his age, and wasted 
 his time by living vainly, whom our Lord corrected, 
 by the scourge of sickness, and suddenly changed 
 him into another man ; so that he began to sliine by 
 the spirit of prophecy. For on a time, he, with 
 other men of Peruse, was taken prisoner, and were 
 put in a cruel prison, where all the other wailed and 
 sorrowed, and he only was glad and enjoyed. And 
 when they had repreTedf him thereof, he answered 
 Know ye, said he, that I am joyful : for I shall be 
 
 worshipped as a saint throughout all the world. 
 
 ******** 
 On a time as this holy man was in prayer, the 
 devil called him thrice by his own name. And 
 when the holy man had answered him, he said, none 
 in this world is so great a sinner, but if he convert 
 him, our Lord would pardon him; but who that 
 slctth himself with hard penance, shall never find 
 .mercy. And a.non, this holy man knew by revela- 
 
 1 reproved.
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 lion the fallacy and deceit of the fiend, how he 
 would have withdrawn him fro to do well. And 
 when the devil saw that he might not prevail 
 against him, he tempted him by grievous tempta- 
 tion of the flesh. And when this holy servant of 
 God felt that, he despoiled 1 his cloaths, and beat 
 himself^right hard with an hard cord, saying, " Thut\ 
 brother ass, it behoveth thee to remain and to be 
 beaten." And when the temptation departed not, 
 he went out and plunged himself in the snow, all 
 naked, and made seven great balls of snow, and pur- 
 posed to have taken them into 9 his body, and said, 
 " This greatest is thy wife; and these four, two ben, 
 thy daughters, and two thy sons ; and the other 
 twain, that one thy chambrere, and that other thy 
 varlet or yeman; haste and clothe them: for they all 
 die for cold. And if thy business that thou hast 
 about them, grieve ye sore, then serve our Lord per- 
 fectly. And anon, the devil departed from him all 
 confused ; and St. Francis returned again unto his 
 cell, glorifying God. * * * * 
 
 He was enobled in his life by many miracles * * 
 and the very death, which is to all men horrible and 
 hateful, he admonished them to praise it. And also 
 he warned and admonished death to come to him, 
 and said, " Death, my sister, welcome be you." 
 And when he came at the last hour, he slept in our 
 
 1 took off. a unto.
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 223 
 
 Lord ; of whom a friar saw the "soul, in manner 
 of a star, like to the moon in quantity, and the sun 
 in clearness. 
 
 St. Bernard, 
 
 Was born in Bourgoyne) in the castle of Fontaines, 
 of noble lineage and much religious, whose father 
 hyght Celestyn, and was a noble knight of the 
 world, and much religious to God. And his mo- 
 ther was named Aleth ; and she had seven children, 
 six males, and one female. And the men children, 
 she nourished all for to be monks, and the daughter 
 for to be a nun, &c. And as she bare the third son 
 in her belly, which was Bernard, she saw in her 
 sleep, a dream, which was a demonstrance of things 
 to come. Her seemed that she had in her belly, a 
 whelp all white and red upon the back, barking in 
 her belly. And when she had told her dream to an 
 holy man, he answered to her prophesying. " Thou 
 art mother of a right noble whelp, which shall be 
 a warden to the house of God, and shall give great 
 barkings against the enemies : for he shall be a no- 
 ble preacher, and shall guarish 1 by the grace of his 
 tongue. * * * * * 
 
 And when the ancient enemy saw the good pur- 
 
 1 gucrir; cure ?
 
 224 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 
 
 pose of the child full of health, he hent against 
 him many gins of temptation. And on a time, when 
 that he had holden eyen, and fixed them upon a wo- 
 man, he had anon shame in himself, and was a cruel 
 venger of himself : for he lept anon into a pond full 
 of water and frozen ; and he was therein so long, 
 that almost he was frozen, and by the grace of God, 
 he was cooled from the heat of carnal concupi- 
 scence. 
 
 About that time, by instigation of the devil, a 
 maid laid her in his bed by him, all naked, there 
 where he slept. And when he felt her, he let her lye 
 in the same side of the bed that she had taken, and 
 turned him to that other side, and slept. And 
 she tarried a space of time, and felt him, and 
 ketylde l him, and would have drawn him to her en- 
 tent. And at the last, when she felt him unmove- 
 able, tho' she were unshamefast, yet she was ashamed, 
 and all confused arose and went her way. 
 
 Another time, as he was harboured in the house 
 of a lady, she considered the beauty of this young 
 man, and was greatly chafed, and strongly desired 
 his company. And then she ordained a bed out 
 from the other ; and in the night she arose without 
 shame, and came secretly to him. And when he 
 felt her, he cried, " thieves! theives!" And she 
 fled and light a candle herself, and sought the thief: 
 
 1 tickled ?
 
 THE GOLDEN LEGEND. 225 
 
 and none was found. And then each man went to 
 his bed again ; bat this unhappy woman rested not ; 
 but she arose again, and went to the bed of Bernard, 
 as she did tofore. And he cried again, " thieves ! 
 thieves !" And the thief was sought, but he was not 
 found, tie published of him, which knew her well. 
 And yet was she chafed the third time; and then 
 with great pain she ceased, what for dread and de^ 
 spair. And on the morrow, as they went by the 
 way, his fellows repreied him of that he had so 
 dreamed of thieves, and inquired of him what it was ? 
 And he answered, verily, I have suffered this night, 
 the assailings of a thief: for mine hostess enforced to 
 take away/ro me, treasure not recoverable. 
 
 These extracts will suffice to give the reader 
 an idea of the ignorance and superstition which 
 prevailed in the dark ages. Such were the 
 tales invented and propagated by the monks, 
 partly with pious, and partly with politic de- 
 signs, which they imposed upon the people as 
 genuine history, and which were received by 
 them with easier and devout credulity. 
 
 VOL. I*
 
 in.
 
 ( 229 ) 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 THE ORDER OF CHIVALRY, 
 
 OR 
 
 KNIGHTHOOD. 
 
 IHIS book was translated from the French, 
 and printed by Caxton. It is a thin quarto, 
 and without a date, though it is supposed to 
 have leen printed about the year 1484. 
 
 It is divided into eight chapters. The 1st 
 shews how a knight, who was a hermit, be- 
 stowed this rule, or order of chivalry, upon a 
 squire. The 2d treats of the original of chival- 
 ry, or knighthood. 3. Of the office of "chi- 
 valry. 4. Of the examination that ought to be 
 made of the esquire, when he enters into the 
 order. 5. In what manner the squire ought 
 to receive chivalry. 6. Of the signefyaunce of 
 the arms belonging to a knight. 7- Of the 
 customs that appertain to a knight. 8. Of the 
 honours that ought to be done to a knight.
 
 230 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 The following is a short abstract of the first 
 chapter, declaring how a good hermit devised 
 to the esquire, the rule and order of chival- 
 ry : 
 
 A certain knight, who had grown old in 
 deeds of war, and feats of chivalry, had retired 
 from the world, that he might consecrate the 
 remainder of his days to acts of devotion, in a 
 deep and venerable forest. Some king, " noble, 
 wise, and full of good customs," having pro- 
 claimed a court general,, for the purpose of 
 being made himself a new knight, and after- 
 wards of making others, a certain esquire, am- 
 bitious of the honour of knighthood, immedi- 
 ately set out on his journey that he may re- 
 ceive it on this illustrious occasion. As he 
 proceeded on his solitary way, he was over- 
 come by the fatigues of his journey ; and fall- 
 ing asleep, his horse deviated from the right 
 tract, and accidentally carried him into the 
 forest inhabited by the hermit-knight. 
 
 The hermit, who was offering up his ori- 
 sons by the side of a fountain, the accustomed- 
 scene of his devotions, on perceiving the ap- 
 proach of a horseman, rose, and awaited him 
 under the shadow of a tree ; at the same time 
 reading in a little book placed upon his lap.
 
 ORbER bF CHIVALRY. 231 
 
 The palfrey stopping at the fountain to 
 drink, the esquire suddenly awoke, and hav- 
 ing alighted, the old knight approached him, 
 and they both sat down together on the grass. 
 After spending some time in silent expressions 
 of mutual surprise at their unexpected rencon- 
 tre, the hermit inquired the reason of his visit. 
 Being satisfied as to this point, and moreover, 
 te when the knight heard speak of the knight- 
 hood and chivalry, and remembered him of the 
 order of the same, and of that which apper- 
 taineth to a knight, he cast out a great sigh, 
 and entered in a great thought, remembering 
 of the honour in which chivalry had been long 
 maintained." 
 
 The esquire inquired the cause of his reve- 
 rie, and being informed, intreated the knight 
 that he would instruct him in the rule and or- 
 der of knighthood. The knight expressed his 
 surprise that a candidate for the honour of chi- 
 valry should have neglected to study its pre- 
 cepts. " I marvel (says he) how thou darest 
 demand chivalry or knighthood, unto the 
 time that thou know the order : for no knight 
 may not love the order, ne that which apper- 
 taineth to this order, but if he can know the 
 defaults that he doth against the order of chi-
 
 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 valry ; ne no knight ought to make any knight?, 
 hut if he himself know the order : for a disor- 
 dinate knight is he that maketh a knight and 
 
 O O 
 
 cannot shew the order to him, ne the custom 
 of chivalry." 
 
 The esquire now renewing his request to 
 be instructed in the order, "^ Friend, (said 
 the knight,) the rule and order of chi valry } 
 is written in this little book that I hold here in 
 mine hands, in which I read, and am busy 
 sometime, to the end that it make me remem- 
 ber or think on the grace and bounty that God 
 hath given and done to me in this world ; be- 
 cause that I honoured and maintained with all 
 my power the order of chivalry : for all in like 
 wise as chivalry giveth to a knight all that to 
 him appertaineth, in like wise a knight ought 
 to give all his forces for to honour chivalry." 
 
 Having said this, he presented the little 
 book to the esquire, who receiving it with the 
 warmest demonstrations of respect and grati- 
 tude, departed on his destined journey. 
 
 Of the beginning of Chivalry. Chap. 22. 
 
 When charity, loyalty, truth, justice, and verity 
 fail in the world, then bcginneth cruelty, injury.
 
 , ORDER OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 disloyalty, and falseness. And therefore was error" 
 and trouble in the world, in which God hath created 
 man, in intention that of the man he be known and 
 loved, doubted 1 , served, and honoured. At the be- 
 ginning, when to the world was come misprision*, 
 justice returned by dread into honour, in which she 
 was wont to be ; arid therefore all the people was di- 
 vided by thousands. And of each thousand was 
 chosen a man most loyal, most strong, and of most 
 noble courage, and better cnsigncd 3 and mannered 
 than all the other. 
 
 And after was enquired and searched, what beast 
 was most cvcenabh, most fair, most courageous, and 
 most strong, to sustain travail, and most able to 
 serve the man. And then was foinaden that- the horse 
 was the most noble, and the most cvi-cnable to serve 
 man. And because that among all the beasts, the 
 man chuns* the horse, and gaj* him to this same 
 man that was so chosen among a thousand men : for 
 after the horse, which is called chwal in French, is- 
 that man named Chirallcr, which is a knight in Eng- 
 lish. Thus to the most noble man was given the 
 most noble beast. 
 
 It behoveth after this, that there should be chosen 
 all the armours, such as ben most noble and most co- 
 tenable to battle, and defend the man fro death. And 
 these armours were given and apprupred 6 to the knight. 
 
 1 feared. * contempt. 3 taught. < chose. gave. 
 * appropriated.
 
 34 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 Then who that will enter into the order of chival- 
 ry, he must think on the noble beginning of chivalry t 
 And him behoveth that the noblesse 1 of his courage 
 in good customs, accord to the beginning of chivalry : 
 for if it were not so, he should be contrary to his or- 
 der and his beginnings ; and therefore it is not cote- 
 nuble thing that the order of chivalry receive his ene- 
 mies in honours. 
 
 Beware thou squire, that wol enter into the order 
 of chivalry, what thou shalt do : for if thou be a 
 knight, thou receives! honour and the servitude that 
 must be had unto the friends of chivalry : for of so 
 much as thou hast more noble beginning, and hast 
 more honour, of so much art thou more bond and 
 bounden to be good and agreeable to God, ,and also 
 to the people. And if thou be wicked, thou art ene* 
 my of chivalry, and art contrary to his command- 
 ments and honours. So much high, and so much 
 noble is the order of chivalry, that it sufficeth not 
 that there be made knights of the most noble per- 
 sons, ne that there should be given to them the most 
 noble beast, and the beast the most noble armours^ 
 and the beast only ; but him behoveth, and it must 
 be, that he be made lord of many men : for in seig- 
 nory is much noblesse ; and in servitude, as much of 
 subjections. Then if thou take the order of knight- 
 hood, and art a vile man and wicked, thou dost great 
 
 1 nobleness;
 
 ORDER OF CHIVALRY. 235, 
 
 injury to all thy subjects, and to thy fellows that 
 ben good : for by the tylde J in which thou art, it 
 thou be wicked, thou oughtest to be put under a serf 
 or bondman ; and by the nolksse of knights that be 
 good, it is indignc*, and not worthy, that thou be 
 called a knight. 
 
 Election, ne horse, ne armours suffice, nor yet to 
 the high honour which longeth to a knight ; but it 
 behoveth that there be given to him a squire, and 
 servant that may take heed to his horse. And it 
 behoveth also, that the common people labour the 
 lands for to bring fruits and goods, whereof the 
 knight and his beasts have their living ; and that 
 the knight rest him, and be at sejourne after his no- 
 blesse, and desport him upon his horse for to hunt, 
 or in other manner after that it shall please him ; 
 and that he ease him and delight in things, of which 
 his men have pain and travail. 
 
 The clerks study in doctrine and science, how 
 they may conne know* God, and love him and his 
 works, to the end that they give doctrine to the peo- 
 ple lay and bestial, by good example, to know, love, 
 serve, and do honour God, our glorious Lord. For 
 to the end that they may ordinately do these things, 
 they follow and ensue the schools. * * * 
 The science and the school of the order of chi- 
 valry is, that the knight make his son to learn, in 
 
 > vilcness. * unwot thy, 3 be able to knovrt
 
 30 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 his youth, to ride : for if he learn not in his youth* 
 he shall never learn it in his old age. And it beho- 
 veth that the son of a knight, in the time that he irf 
 esquire, can take keeping of horse ; and him beho- 
 ved! that he serve, and that he be first subject, or 1 
 he be lord : for otherwise should he not know the 
 noblesse of the seignory, when he should be a knight. 
 And, therefore, every man that will come to knight- 
 hood, him behoveth to learn in his youth, to carve 
 at the table; to serve to arm; and to adoube* a 
 knight. 
 
 ***** 
 
 So much is high and honoured the order of chi- 
 valry, that to 'a squire, ne sufficeth not only to 
 keep horse, and learn to serve a knight, and that he 
 go with him to tourneys and battles ; but it is need- 
 ful that there be holden td- him a school of the or- 
 der of knighthood, and that the science were written 
 in books, and that the art were shewed and read in 
 such manner as other sciences ben read ; and that 
 the sons of knights learn first the science that ap- 
 pertaineth to the order of chivalry. And after that 
 they were esquires, they should ride thro' divers coun- 
 tries with the knights. And if there were none er- 
 ror in the clerks, and in the knights, unneth should 
 there be any in other people : for by the clergy, they 
 should have devotion, and love to God ; and by the 
 
 1 ere, before. a dubb.
 
 OKDER OF CHIVALRY. 23? 
 
 knights, they should doubt l to do wrong, treason and 
 burette* the one to another. 
 
 Chop. 3 Of the Office of a Knight. 
 
 The office of a knight is to maintain and defend 
 the holy faith catholic. * So much m>. 
 
 ble is chivalry, that every knight ought to be go- 
 vernor of a great country or land ; but there ben so 
 many knights, that the land may not suffice to sig-. 
 nify that one ought to be lord of all things. The 
 emperor ought to be a knight, and lord of all 
 knights ; but because that the emperor may not by 
 himself govern all knights ; him behoveth that he 
 have under him kings that ben knights, to the end 
 that they aid and help to maintain the order of chi- 
 valry. And the kings ought to have under them 
 dukes, earls, viscounts, and other lords. And un- 
 der the barons ought to be knights, which ought to 
 govern them after the ordinance of the barons, which 
 ben in the high degree of chivalry tofore named : for 
 to shew the excellence, seignory, power, and wisdom 
 of our Lord God glorious, which is one only God in 
 Trinity, and can and may govern all things. * * 
 
 The. office of a knight is to maintain and defend 
 
 1 fear, a barbarity ?
 
 <23S THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 his lord worldly or terrene : for a king, nc no high 
 baron, hath no power to maintain* right wiseness in 
 his men, without aid and help. Then, if any man 
 do against the commandment of his king or prince, 
 it hehoveth that the knights aid their lord, which is 
 but a man only as another is ; and therefore the 
 evil knight, which sooner helpeth 'another man 
 that would put down his lord from the seignory that 
 he ought to have upon him, he followeth not the of- 
 fice by which he is called a knight. 
 
 By the knights ought to be maintained and kept 
 justice, * for to maintain the order of knight- 
 hood : then, to mesprise 1 and to leave the customs of 
 that which the knight is most apparailled to use 
 his office- is but despising of the order. And thus, as 
 all these things aforesaid appertain to a knight, as 
 touching his body ; in like wise justice, wisdom, cha* 
 rity, loyalty, verity, humility, strength, hope, swift- 
 ness, and all other virtues semblable* appertain to 
 a knight as touching his soul ; and therefore the 
 knight that useth the things that appertain to the 
 order of chivalry, as touching his body, and hath none 
 of these virtues that appertain to chivalry, touching 
 his soul, is not the friend of the order of knighthood : 
 for if it were thus that he made separation of the 
 virtues above-said, saying that they appertain not 
 to the soul, and to the order of chivalry together, it 
 
 1 despise. > similar.
 
 ORDER OF CHIVALRY. 239 
 
 should signify that the body and chivalry were both 
 two together, contrary to the soul, and to these vir- 
 tues ; and that is false. 
 
 The office of a knight is to maintain the land. 
 * * * * A noble knight that loveth chivalry, 
 how much less he hath aid of his fellows, and less 
 of arms, and less to defend; so much more him be- 
 hoveth to enforce himself to have the office of a 
 knight by hardiness of a strong courage, and of no- 
 ble appearance, against them that ben contrary to 
 chivalry. And if he die to maintain chivalry, then 
 he acquireth chivalry in that in which he may the 
 better love and serve it : for chivalry abideth not so 
 agreeably in no place as in noblesse of courage. And 
 no man may more honour and love chivalry, ne 
 more for him may not be do 1 than that dieth for 
 love, and for to honour the order of chivalry. 
 
 Chivalry and hardiness may not accord without 
 wit and discretion. And if it were thus that folly 
 and ignorance accorded thereto, wit and discretion 
 should be contrary to the order of chivalry ; and 
 that is thing impossible : by which is openly signi- 
 fied to the knight, that thou hast great love to the 
 order of chivalry, that all in likewise as chivalry by 
 poblessc of courage hath made thee to have hardiness, 
 so that thou doMcst' i no peril, ne death, because thou 
 mightest honour chivalry; in likewise it behoveth, 
 
 1 done. a dreadest.
 
 240 ' THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 that the order of chivalry make thee to love wisdom, 
 by which thou mayst love and honour the order of 
 chivalry, against the disordinance and default that is 
 ifi them- that tccnt* to ensue and follow the order of 
 chivalry by folly and ignorance, and without cntend- 
 mcnt 3 . 
 
 The office of a knight is to maintain and defend 
 women, widows, and orphans, and men diseased, and 
 uot puissant ne. strong. For, like as custom and 
 reason is, that the greatest and most mighty, help 
 the feeble and less, and that they have recourse to 
 the great ; right so is the order of chivalry ; be- 
 cause she is great, honourable, and mighty, be 5 in 
 succour, and in aid to them that ben under him, and 
 less mighty and less honoured than he is. 
 
 Then, as it is so, that for to do wrong and force to 
 women, widows that have need of aid, and orphelins 
 that have need of governance ; and to rot and destroy 
 the feeyle that have need of strength ; and to take 
 away from them that is given to them these things 
 may not accord to the order of chivalry : for this is 
 wickedness, cruelty, and tyranny. And the knight 
 that instead of these vices is full of virtues, he is 
 
 digne and worthy to have the order of chivalry. 
 ****#* 
 
 The office of a knight is to have a castle and 
 horse for to keep the ways, and for to defend them 
 
 1 think. * thought.
 
 O&DER OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 that labour the lands and the earth. And .they 
 Ought to have towns and cities for to hold right to 
 the people, and for to assemble in a place m.-n of 
 many divers crafts, which ben much necessary to the 
 ordinance of this World, to keep and maintain the 
 life of man and of woman. 
 
 The office of a knight is also to ensearch for 
 thieves, robbers, and other wicked folk, for to make 
 them to be punished. * And because that God 
 
 and chivalry concord together, it behoveth that false 
 swearing, and untrue oath be not in them that main- 
 tain the order of chivalry. And if lechery and justice, 
 accorded together, chivalry, which 1 accordeth to 
 justice, should accord to lechery ; and if chivalry 
 and lechery accorded, chastity, which is contrary to 
 lechery, should be against the honour of chivalry. 
 And if it were so, that for to maintain lechery, 
 knights were honoured in maintaining chivalry ; 
 seen that lechery and justice been contrary, and that 
 chivalry is ordained for to maintain justice. 
 
 The knight ought, and should be just and totally 
 contrary l to the end, wherefore the order of knight- 
 hood was first established. And if justice and hu- 
 mility were contrary, chivalry, which accordeth him 
 not to justice, should be contrary to humility. And 
 if he accordeth him to pride, he should be contrary 
 to humility. And then, if a knight, inasmuch as 
 
 , directed towards. 
 VOL. i. R.
 
 J1U THE BOOK OF 
 
 he is proud, maintained chivalry, he corrupteth his 
 order, which was begun by justice and humility, for 
 to sustain the humble, and against the proud : far \i 
 it were so, the knights that now ben, should not btn 
 in that order in which they were first knights ; but 
 all the knights now injurious and proud, full of wick-- 
 fdness, be not worthy to chivalry, but oughten to be 
 reputed for nought. 
 
 Of the Customs that appertain to a Knight. Chap. 7- 
 
 The noblesse of courage has chosen a knight to be 
 above all other men that ben under him in servitude. 
 Then noblesse of customs and good norishments ap- 
 pertain to a knight : for noblesse of courage may not 
 mount in the high honour of chivalry, without elec- 
 tion of virtues and good customs. Then, as it is so, 
 it behoveth offeree to a knight, that he be replenish- 
 ed of good customs, and of good enscignments 1 . Eve- 
 ry knight ought to know the seven virtues, which 
 ben beginning and root of all good customs, and ben 
 the way and path of the celestial glory perdurable. 
 Of which seven virtues, the three ben theological, or 
 divine ; and the other four ben cardinal. The theo- 
 logical ben faith, hope, and charity ; the cardinal ben 
 justice, prudence, strength, and temperance. 
 
 1 instruction?,
 
 ORDEK OF CHIVALRY. 43 
 
 To a knight appertained! that he be fever of com- 
 mon weal ; for by the commonalty of the people was 
 the chivalry founden and established. And the com- 
 mon weal is greater and more necessary than proper 
 good and special. 
 
 To a knight appertained to speak nobly and cour- 
 teously ; and to have fair harness, and to be well 
 clad, and to hold a good household, and an honest 
 house : for all these things ben to honour chivalry 
 necessary. Courtesy and chivalry accorden toge^ 
 ther : for vilainous and foul words ben against 
 the order of chivalry. Priralty l and acquaintance of 
 good folk, loyalty and truth, hardiness, largess*, ho- 
 nesty, humility, pity, and the other things semblabl* 
 to these, appertain to chivalry. 
 
 At the end is an epilogue of Caxton, who, 
 after explaining the origin of the translation, 
 breaks forth into an enihusiastic commenda- 
 tion of chivalry. It is worth transcribing : 
 
 Here endeth the book of " The Order of Chivalry," 
 which book is translated out of French into English, 
 at a request of a gentle and noble esquire, by me, 
 "William Caxton, dwelling in Westminster, beside 
 
 1 intimacy. 3 beneficence. 
 
 K 2
 
 244 THE BOOK OF 
 
 London, in the most best wise that God hath suffer- 
 ed mo, and according to the copy, that the said 
 i- quire delivered to me. Which book is not requisite 
 to every common man to have ; but to noble gentle- 
 men, that by their virtue intend to come and enter 
 into the noble order of chivalry, the which, in these 
 late days, hath been used according to this book 
 heretofore written, but forgotten ; and by the exer- 
 cises of chivalry, not used, honoured, ne exercised, 
 as it hath been in ancient time, at which time, the 
 noble acts of the knights of England, that used 
 chivalry, were renowned thro' the universal world. 
 As for to speak tofore the incarnation of Jesus 
 Christ, where were there ever any like to Brennius 
 and Belinus, that from the Great Britain, now called 
 England, unto Rome, and far beyond, conquered 
 many royammcs l and lands, whose noble acts remain 
 in the old histories of the Romans. And syth the 
 incarnation of our Lord, behold that noble king of 
 Britain, king Arthur, with all the noble knights of 
 the Round Table, whose noble acts and noble chi- 
 valry of his knights occupy so many large volumes, 
 that is a world, or as thing incredible to believe. O 
 ye knights of England ! where is the custom and 
 usage of noble chivalry, that was used in tlio days ? 
 What do you now but go to the baynes* and play at 
 dice ? And some not well advised, use not honest 
 
 ' kingdoms. - baths, or bagnios.
 
 ORDER OF CHIVALRY. 245 
 
 and good rule, ageyn 1 all order of knighthood. Leave 
 this, leave it, and read the noble volumes of St. 
 Grael, of Lancelot, of Galaad, of Tristram, of Perse- 
 forest, of Percyval, of Gawain, and many mo 9 . 
 There shall ye see manhood, courtesy, and gentleness. 
 And look in latter days of the noble acts syth the 
 conquest, as in king Richard's days, Coeur de Lion ; 
 Edward I. and 111. and his noble sons ; sir Robert 
 Knolles, sir John Hawkewoode, sir John Chaundos, 
 and sir Gaultier Manny. Read Froissart. And 
 also behold that victorious and noble king Harry V. 
 and the captains under him ; his noble brethren ; the 
 earl of Salisbury, Montague, and many other, whose 
 names shine gloriously by their virtuous nobleness and 
 acts that they did in honour of the order of chi- 
 valry. Alas ! what do ye but sleep and take ease, and 
 are all disordered from chivalry. How many knights 
 ben there now in England, that have the use and the 
 exercise of a knight ? That is to wit, that he know- 
 eth his horse, and his horse him ? That is to say, 
 he being ready at a point, to have all thing that 
 longeth to a knight ; an horse that is according 
 and broken after his hand ; his armours and harness 
 meet and fitting, and so forth ? I suppose, an a 
 due search should be umde, there should be many 
 found that lack. TLe more the pity is. I would 
 it pleased our sovereign lord, that twice, or thrice 
 
 J against. 9 more.
 
 246 THE BOOK OF THE ORDER, $C. 
 
 in a year, or at least once, he would do cry Justes of 
 Pees, to the end that every knight should have horse 
 and harness, and also the use and craft of a knight, 
 and also to tourney one against one, or two against 
 two, and the best to have a price, a diamond or 
 jewel, such as should please the prince. This should 
 cause gentlemen to resort to the ancient customs of 
 chivalry, to great fame and renown ; arid also to be 
 alway ready to serve their prince, when he shall 
 call them or have need. Then let every man that is 
 come of noble blood, and intendeth to come to the 
 noble order of chivalry, read this little book, and do 
 thereafter, in keeping the lore and commandments 
 therein comprised ; and then, I doubt not, he shall 
 attain to the order of chivalry, et cetera. 
 
 This book Caxton presents to his dread so- 
 vereign lord king Richard, king of England 
 and France, that he may command the same 
 to be read to the lords, knights, and gentle- 
 men within this realm, that (as he says) the 
 said noble order of chivalry may be hereafter 
 better practised and honoured than it had 
 been of late times.
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 
 
 THE tide of this book at full length is" The 
 Birth, Life, and Acts of King Arthur ; of his 
 nohle Knights of the Round Table ; their mar- 
 vellous Enquests and Adventures; the achieving 
 of the Sangreal ; and in the end, La Mart d 1 Ar- 
 thur ; with the dolorous death and departing 
 out of this world of them all: which book was 
 reduced to the English by sir Thomas Malory, 
 knight ; and by me, William Caxton, divided 
 into twenty-one books ; chaptered and em- 
 printed and finished in the abbey of Westmin- 
 ster, the last day of July, the year of our Lord 
 1485," being about a month before the battle 
 of Bosworth, in which Richard III. was slain. 
 If we are to credit Leland, and others after 
 him, sir Thomas Malory was a Welchnum ; 
 and from the legendary cast of some of the 
 stones, he was probably a priest. The history 
 of king Arthur, who died in o42, occupies the
 
 C4S MORTE ARTHUR. 
 
 seventh book of Geoffrey of Monmouth ; 
 which undoubtedly furnished the ground work 
 of the romance in question. The superstruc- 
 ture was Completed by materials derived from 
 MSS. written in the French and Welch, con- 
 cerning the said king Arthur and his knights ; 
 perhaps with some additions by the compiler. 
 
 The Prologue. 
 
 After that I had accomplished and finished divers 
 histories, as well of contemplation, as of other his- 
 torial and worldly acts of great conquerors and 
 princes, and also certain books of ensamples and 
 doctrine, many noble and divers gentlemen of this 
 realm of England, came and demanded me many and 
 oft times, wherefore that I have not do made and 
 emprint the noble history of Sangreal, and of the 
 most renowned Christian king, (first and chief of the 
 three best Christian and worthy) king Arthur, which 
 ought most to be remembered among us Englishmen, 
 tofore all other Christian kings ; for it is notoirly J 
 knowen through the universal world, that there been 
 nine worthy, and the best that ever were ; that is to. 
 vyte, three Paynims, three Jews, and three Christian 
 men. As for the Paynims, they were tofore the in- 
 
 > notoriously.
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 249 
 
 carnation of Christ, which were named, the first, 
 Hector of Troy, of whom the history is comen, both 
 in ballad and in prose ; the second, Alexander the 
 Great ; and the third, Julius Caesar, emperor of Rome, 
 of whom the histories been well knowen and had. And 
 as for the three Jews, which also were tofore the in- 
 carnation of our Lord, of whom the first was duke 
 Joshua., which brought the children of Israel into 
 the land of behest ; the second, David, king of Je- 
 rusalem; and the third, Judas Macabeus. Of these 
 three the Bible rehearseth all their noble histories 
 and acts. And syth the said incarnation have been, 
 three noble Christian men stalled and amytted through 
 the universal world, in to the number nine, best and 
 worthy of whom was Tyra, the noble Arthur, whose 
 noble acts I purpose to write in this present book 
 here following ; the second was Charlemagne, or 
 Charles the Great, of whom the history is had in 
 many places, both in French and English ; and the 
 third and last, Godfrey of Bologne, of whose acts and 
 life I made a book unto the excellent prince Edward 
 the Fourth. The said noble gentlemen instantly re- 
 quired me to enprint the story of the said noble 
 king and conqueror, king Arthur, and of his knights, 
 with the history of the Sangrcal, and of the death 
 and ending of the said king Arthur ; affirming that I 
 ought rather to enprint his acts and noble feats, 
 than of Godfrey of Bologne, or any of the other
 
 50 MORTE ARTHUR. 
 
 tfight, considering that he was a man born \vithin this 
 niilin, and king and emperor of the same, and that 
 there been in French divers and many noble volumes 
 of his acts, and also of bis knights ; to whom I have 
 answered, tlv.it divers men hold opinion that there 
 was no such Arthur, and that all such books as 
 been made of him, be but feigned and fables, by cause 
 that some Chronicles make of him no mention, ne 
 remember him nothing, ne of his knights. Whereto 
 they answered, and one in special said, that in him 
 that should say or think that there was never such a 
 king called Arthur, might be aryttyd great folly and 
 blindness : for he said, that there were many evi- 
 dence of the contrary. First, ye may see his sepul- 
 ture in the monastery of Glastonbury. And also in 
 Pofycronicon, in the fifth book, and the sixth chap- 
 ter ; and in the seventh book, the thirteenth 
 chapter, where his body was buried, and after found 
 and translated into the said monastery. Ye shall see 
 also in the history of Bochas, in his book De Cam 
 Principum, part of his noble acts, and also of his 
 fall. Also Galfndus, in his British book, recounteth 
 his life ; and in divers places of England, many re- 
 membrances been yet of him, and shall remain per- 
 petually of him, and also of his knights. First in 
 the abbey of Westminster, at Saint Edward's shrine 
 remai'neth the print of his seal in red wax, closed iit 
 beryl, in which is written Patricias, Arthurus, Brit'tn*
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 251 
 
 jzz'e, Galie, Germanic, Dacie imperator. Also in the 
 castle of Dover, ye may see Gawain's skull, and 
 Cradoc's mantle. At Winchester, the round table. 
 In other places, Lancelot's sword; and many other 
 things. Then all these things consider, there can 
 no man reasonably gainsay but there was a king of 
 this land named Arthur : for in all places Christian 
 and heathen, he is reputed and taken for one of the 
 nine worthy, and the first of the three Christian 
 men. And also he is more spoken of beyond the 
 sea, mo books made of his noble acts than there been 
 in England, as well in Dutch, Italian, Spanish, and 
 Greekish, as in French. And yet of record remain 
 in witness of him in Wales, in the town of Camelot, 
 the great stones and marvellous works of iron lying 
 under the ground and royal vaults, which divers now 
 have seen. Wherefore it is a marvel why he is no 
 more renowned in his own country, sou/ 1 only that 
 it accordelh to the word of God, which saith, That 
 no man is accept for a prophet in his own country. 
 Then all these things foresaid alledged, I could not 
 well deny but that there was such a noble king named 
 Arthur, and reputed one of the nine worthy, and first 
 and chief of the Christian men. And many noble 
 volumes been made of him and of his noble knights 
 in French, which 1 have seen and read beyond the 
 sea, which been not had in our maternal tongue.
 
 252 MORTE ARTHUR. 
 
 But in Welch been many, and also in French, and 
 some in English, but no where nigh all. Wherefore 
 such as have been late draw en out briefly into Eng- 
 lish, I have, after my simple cunning that God 
 hath sent to me, under the favour and correction of 
 all noble lords and gentlemen, enprised to enprint a 
 book of the noble histories of the said king Arthur, 
 and of certain of his knights, after a copy unto me 
 delivered, which copy sir Thomas Malory took out 
 of certain books of French, and reduced i,t into Eng- 
 lish. And I, according to my copy, have done set 
 it in enprint, to the entent that noble men may see 
 and read the noble acts of chivalry ; the gentle and 
 virtuous deeds that some knights used in those days, 
 by which they came to honour ; and how they that 
 were vicious were punLhed, and oft put to shame 
 and rebuke ; humbly beseeching all noble lords and 
 ladies, with all other estates or commonalty, of what 
 estate or degree they been of, that shall see and read 
 this same book and work, that they take and en tend 
 to the good and honest acts in their remembrance, 
 and to follow those same wherein they shall well rind 
 many joyous and pleasant histories, and the noble 
 and renowned acts of humanity and gentleness, and 
 chivalries ; for herein may be seen noble chivalry, 
 courtesey, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, 
 friendship, cowards, murder, hate, virtue, and sin ; 
 do after the good, and leave the evil, and it shall
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 253 
 
 bring you to good fame and renown. And for to 
 pass the time this book shall be pleasant to read it ; 
 but for to give faith and belief, that all is true that 
 is contained therein, ye be at your liberty. But all 
 is written for our doctrine, and for to beware that 
 we fall not to vice, we sin, but to exercise and follow 
 virtue, by which we may come and attain te good 
 fame and renown in this life, and after this short and 
 transitory life, to come unto everlasting bliss in 
 heaven, the which he grant us that reigneth in the 
 heaven, the blessed Trinity. Amen. 
 
 Then to proceed forth in this said book, which I 
 direct unto all noble princes, lords and ladies, gentle- 
 men or gentlewomen, that desire to read, or hear 
 read of the noble and joyous history of the great 
 conqueror and excellent king Arthur, sometime king 
 of this noble realm then called Britain, I William 
 Caxton, simple person, present this book following, 
 which I have enprised to enprint ; and treateth of the 
 noble acts, feats of arms, of chivalry, prowess, har- 
 diness, humanity, love, courtesy, and very gentle- 
 ness ; with many wonderful histories and adventures. 
 And for to understand briefly the content of this 
 volume, I have divided it into 21 books, and every 
 book chaptered, as hereafter shall, by God's grace, 
 follow.
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 
 
 The blowing of the horn, in the beginning 
 of the following passage, furnishes a fine in- 
 stance of the sublime^ founded on particular 
 costume. 
 
 Chap. 11. 
 
 So he rode forth, and within three days he came 
 by a cross, and thereon was letters of gold written, 
 that said, It is not for a knight alone to ride 
 toward this castle. Then saw he an old hoar gen- 
 tleman coming to\vard him, that said, Balm le Sa- 
 vage, thou passcst thy bounds this way, therefore 
 turn again and it will avail thee. And he vanished 
 away anon ; and so he heard an horn blow as it had 
 been the death of a beast. That blast, said Balin, 
 is blown for me ; for I am the prize, and yet am I 
 not dead. And therewith he saw an hundred ladies, 
 and many knights that welcomed him with fair sem- 
 blant, and made him passing good cheer unto his 
 sight, and led him into the castle, and there was 
 dancing and minstrelsy, and all manner of joy. 
 Then the chief lady of the castle said, Knight with 
 the two swords, he must have ado and just with a 
 knight hereby, that keepeth an island : for there 
 may no man pass this way, but he must just or 1 he 
 pass. That is an unhappy custom, said 
 
 1 ere, before.
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 
 
 that a knight may not pass this way, but if he just.- 
 Ye shall have ado but with one knight, 1 said the lady. 
 Well, said Balin, sith I shall, thereto am I ready ; but 
 travelling men are ofterr weary, and their horses 
 also ; but tho' my horse be weary, my heart is not 
 weary. I would be fain there my death should tye. 
 Sir, (said a knight to Balin,) me thinketh 'your shield 
 is not good, I will lend you a bigger. Thereof I pray 
 you ; and so took the shield that was unknown, and 
 left his own, and so rode unto the island, and put him 
 and his horse in a great boat ; and when he came ori 
 the other side, he met with a damsel, and she said, 
 O knight Balin, why have you left your own 
 shield? Alas! ye have put yourself in great dan- 
 ger ! for by your shield you should have been 
 known ; it is great pity of you as ever was of knight : 
 for of prowess and hardiness thou hast no fellow 
 living. 
 
 Me vcpenteth, said Balin, that ever I came within 
 this country ; but I may not turn again for shame;* 
 and what adventure shall fall to me, be it life or 
 death, I will take the adventure that shall come to 
 me. And then he looked on his armour, and under- 
 stood he was well armed, and therewith blessed liim, 
 and mounted upon his horse.
 
 156 MORTE ARTHtR, 
 
 Chap. 43. 
 
 How Balin met with his brother Balan and how each 
 of' them slew other unknown till they were wounded to 
 death. 
 
 Then afore him he saw come riding out of a cas- 
 tle, a knight and his horse, trapped all in red, and 
 himself in the same colour. And when this knight 
 in the fed beheld Balin, him thought it should be 
 his brother Balin, because of his two swords ; but be- 
 cause he knew not his shield, he deemed that it 
 should not be he. And so they aventured their 
 spears, and came marvellously fast together, and 
 smote either other in the shields ; but their spears 
 and their course was so big. that it bare down horse 
 and man, so that they lay both in a swoon ; but 
 Balin was sore bruised with the fall of his horse : 
 for he was weary of travail. And Balan was the first 
 that rose on foot, and drew his sword, and went 
 toward Balin, and he arose and went against him ; 
 but Balan smote Balin first, and he put up his 
 shield, and smote him thro' the shield, and brake his 
 
 f 
 
 helm. Then Balin smote him again with that un- 
 happy sword, and well nigh had felled his brother 
 Balan ; and so they fought there together till their 
 breaths failed. Then Ba*lin looked up to the castle, 
 and saw the towers stand full of ladies. So they
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 257 
 
 
 
 went to battle again, and wounded each other griev- 
 ously, and then they breathed oftentime, and so 
 went to battle, that all the place there as they 
 fought was red of their blood. And at that time, 
 there was none of them both but they had smitten 
 either other seven great wounds, so that the least of 
 them might have been the death of the mightiest 
 giant in the world. Then they went to battle again 
 so marvellously, that doubt it was to hear of that 
 battle for the great blood-shedding ; and their hau- 
 berks unnailed, that naked they were on every side. 
 At the last Balan, the younger brother, withdrew 
 him a little and laid him down. Then said le Sa- 
 vage, What knight art thou : for or now, I found 
 never no knight that matched me? My name is, 
 said he, Balan, brother to the good knight Balin. 
 Alas ! said Balin, that ever I should see this day ; 
 and therewith he fell backward in a swoon. Then 
 Balan went on all four feet and hands, and put oft' 
 the helm of his brother, and might not know him by 
 e visage, it was so full hewn and bebled ; but when 
 e awoke, he said, O Balan, my brother! thou hast 
 slain me, and I thee. Wherefore all the wide world 
 shall speak of us both. 
 
 Alas ! said Balan, that ever I saw this day, 
 that thro' mishap, I might not know you : for I es-_ 
 pied well your two swords ; but because yc had ano- 
 ther shield, I deemed you had been another knithl. 
 
 VOL. i. s
 
 JJ3 MORTE ARTHUR, 
 
 Alas ! said Bulin, all that made an unhappy 
 knight in the castle : for he caused roe to leave mim. 
 own shield, to the destruction of us both ; and if I 
 might live r I would destroy that eastle for the ill 
 custpms. That were well done, said Balan, for 
 I had never grace to depart from them sitA that I 
 came hither : for here it happened me to slay a 
 knight that kept this island*, and sith might I never 
 depart ; and no more should ye, brother \ and ye 
 might have slain me as ye have, and escaped your- 
 self with your life. Right so came the lady of the 
 tower, with four knights and six ladies, and six 
 yeomen unto them ; and there she heard how they 
 made their moan either to other,, and said, We 
 came both out of one wemb, that is to say, mother': 
 folly ; and so shall we lie both in one pit. So Ba- 
 lan prayed the lady of her gentleness for his true ser- 
 vice, that she would bury them both in that place 
 where the battle was done. And she granted them 
 with weeping cheer, and said it should be done 
 richly, and in the best manner. Now will ye send 
 for a priest, that we may receive the sacrament and 
 blessed body of our Lord Jesus Christ ? Yea, said 
 the lady, it shall be done. And so she sent for a 
 priest and gave them their rights. Now, said Ba- 
 lin, when we are buried in one tomb, and the men- 
 tion made over as how two brethren slew each other, 
 there will never good knight, nor good_mao see ouv
 
 MORTE ARTHUR. 2*9 
 
 
 
 tomb, but they will pray for our souls. And 30 all 
 the ladies and gentlewomen wept for pity. And 
 anon, Balan died ; but Balin died not till the mid- 
 night after, and so were buried both ; and the lady 
 let make a mention of Balan, how he was there 
 slain by the hands of his own brother; and she 
 knew not Balin's name. 
 
 The speech of sir Bohort, towards the end, 
 ovejr the dead body of sir Lancelot, has been 
 often quoted as the perfect character of a 
 knight errant : , 
 
 And now I dare say, that sir Lancelot, there thou 
 lyest, thou were never matched of none earthly 
 knight's hands. And thou were the curteist knight that 
 ever bare shield. And thou were the truest friend to 
 thy lover that ever bestrode horse ; and thou were 
 the truest lover of a sinful man, that ever loved wo- 
 man. And thou were the kindest man that ever 
 stroke with sword. And thou were the goodliest 
 person that ever came among prcce 1 of knights. And 
 thou were the meekest man, and the gentlest that 
 ever ate in hall among ladies. And thou were the 
 sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear 
 in rest. 
 
 i press. 
 
 s 2
 
 vii.
 
 < 63 ) 
 
 41 
 
 tHE BOOK OF 
 
 THE FEATS OF ARMS, 
 
 AND OF 
 
 CHIVALRY. 
 
 THIS book was written by Christina, who 
 was born at Pisa, in Italy; hence she is com- 
 monly called Christina of Pisa ; but removing 
 with her father to Bologne, in France, she 
 wrote in the language of that country. She 
 florished about the year 1400. 
 
 Her book was translated into English, and 
 printed by Caxton, fol. in 1489- It was col- 
 lected from Frontinus, Vegetius, and the Ar- 
 bre of Battles ; to which she added " many 
 other things requisite to war," &c. 
 
 At the end, Caxton says that this book " was 
 delivered to him by that prince (Henry VII.) 
 in his palace of Westminster, the 23d of Ja-
 
 264 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 nuary, in the fourth year of his reign, who de- 
 sired and willed him to translate it into Eng- 
 lish, and put it into print, that every gentle- 
 man born to arms, and all manner of men of 
 war, &c. should have knowledge how to be- 
 have themselves in feats of war, &c. 
 
 "This book is divided into four parts. l.The 
 first part deviseth the manner that kings and 
 princes ought to hold, in the feats of their wars 
 and battles, after the order of books, diets 1 of 
 the most preu * and noble conquerors of the 
 world ; and how and what manner feats ought, 
 and the manners that they ought to keep and 
 hold in their offices of arms. -2. Item, The se- 
 cond part speaketh after Frontin, of cautles 
 and subtleties of arms ; which he calleth stra- 
 tagems of the order and manner to fight and 
 defend castles and cities, after Vegece and 
 other auctors ; and to make war and give bat- 
 tle in rivers and in the sea. 3. Item, The third 
 part speaketh of the droits and rights of arms, 
 after the laws and droits written. 4. Item, The 
 fourth part speaketh of the droits of arms in 
 the feats of safe conducts, of the tryerces of 
 mark, and after of champ 9 of battle, that is, of 
 fighting within lists." 
 
 1 sayings. a prudent.
 
 TEATS OF ARMS, fyc. '2 ,.v 
 
 Of these four parts, the first is divided into 
 29 chapters ; the second into 38, or rather 39, 
 cap. 25, being numbered twice; the third into 
 23 ; the fourth into 1?. 
 
 To those who object to this lady, that the 
 handling of her distaff and spinning-wheel, arc 
 occupations more suitable to a woman thau 
 concerning herself with the feats of arms, and 
 the battles of heros she replies, by citing in 
 her Prologue, the example of Minerva, whom 
 she addresses in the following high-flown strain 
 of panegyric : 
 
 O Minerva, goddess of arms and of chivalry? 
 which by virtue of high cntcndment l , above all other 
 women, foundest and institutest, among the other 
 noble arts and sciences which of thee took their be- 
 ginning, the usage to forge of iron and steel armours 
 and harness, ppice 8 and cofoiablc to cover and targe 3 
 the body of man against the strokes of darts, iwyous* 
 shot and spears in battle ; feats of arms, helms, 
 shields, targes and other harness defensible ; fro the 
 
 ' destiny. There must be a misprint here. 
 
 a shield. < noxious.
 
 THE BOOK OF Tilt 
 
 first coming, institutest and gavest manner and or- 
 der to arrange battles, and to assail and fight in man- 
 ner adored lady and high goddess ! be not displeas- 
 ed, that I, simple and little woman, like as nothing 
 unto the greatness of thy renown in cunning *, dare 
 presently comprise* to speak of so magnific an of- 
 fice, as is the office of arms ; of which first in the 
 said renowned country of Greece, thou gavest the 
 usage. And in so much it may please thee to be to 
 me favourable, that I may be somewhat consonant 
 in the nation where thou was born, which as then 
 was named the Great Greece, the country beyond 
 the Alpes, or mountains Pity lie 3 and Callabrc*, in 
 Italy, where you were born. And I am, as you 
 were, a woman Italian. 
 
 The chapters towards the end, which trent 
 of the trial of right by single combat within the 
 lists, as allowed and ordained by the Imperial 
 and Lombard laws, are justly considered as the 
 most curious part of the book. 
 
 intelligence. a undertaks. 3 Apulia? 
 
 * Calabria.
 
 FEATS OF ARMS, $C. 26? 
 
 Book 4,. Chap. S. 
 
 For what causes the law Imperial did ordain the Champ 
 of Battle. 
 
 But because that the diffcnscs* abovesaid, of the 
 right written, have not be always observed, nor kept, 
 nor yet be not obeyed in all royabnes, as touching for 
 to fight in champ of battle, as it is said ; I shall tell 
 the causes for the which they that did set it up- 
 have judged it to be doo, that is to wit, the emperor 
 Frederic, that so much contraried holy church, that 
 he chased the pope out of his place, that time when 
 he came to his refuge and succour toward the king 
 of France. And also another scripture that men 
 call the Lombardish law, deviseth thereof in divers 
 cases ; the which hereafter shall be declared by 
 me unto thee. 
 
 First, The said emperor's law saith, If a man 
 be accused of treason, that he have machined, pur- 
 chased, procured, or conspired against his prince, 
 or against his city, or else to the prejudice of the 
 common weal, whatsoever the case be, of which the 
 truth .cannot be by no proofs known; and that this 
 man so accused oflereth to defend and purge himself 
 by champ of battle, against all men that wol say against 
 
 i prohibitions.
 
 C68 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 him, shall be received to do the said cframp of 
 battle. 
 
 If cm. That if a prisoner of war be kept in prison 
 by the party adverse, and that it happeth during the 
 said prisonment that peace be made betwixt the two 
 .parties, under condition that all mariner of prison- 
 ers shall be delivered safe again, without paying of 
 any ransom ; wherefore it may haply fall, that the 
 master sleeth his prisoner : for which misdeed, by 
 right he may Icse. * his head, and he be reproved and 
 attainted thereof; whereupon he saith that he slew 
 him ifl his defence, and that first of all the prisoner 
 had of her* traitously 9 , or by some otherwise assailed, 
 when they were but them two together ; and this he 
 tcol make good by good proof of his own body, in a 
 cJiamp of battle ; if any man were that would say 
 contrary against him, he ought to be received. 
 
 Item. Also it saith, as by such a fall 4 , we put 
 case that the king of France and the king of Eng- 
 land had truce together, and that it should hap a 
 Frenchman during this time, to wound and hurt full 
 sore an Englishman, or an Englishman a French- 
 man j of the which thing that law saith, that in 
 such a case beh'oveth of right and justice a greater 
 punition* to him that hath hurtecl that other, than if 
 be had done the same to one of his own country : If 
 
 Moss. c either. 3 traitorous!}'. 4 event, accident- 
 
 * ruuishrnenu
 
 FEATS OF ARMS, $C. 
 
 he that this wrong hath done, would bear it out by 
 the proof of his own body, that this was done of him 
 in his defence against that other that first had as- 
 sailed ^him his words by the said law Imperial, 
 ought to be heard. 
 
 Item. If a man accuseth another that he would 
 have had slain the king or the prince, by poisons or 
 otherwise ; and that other saith that he lyeth falsely, 
 and for the same called him to champ of battle, he is 
 holden by the same law Imperial, to answer him and 
 keep him, the day that he shall set for to fight with 
 him. 
 
 Chap. 9- 
 
 For K-kat causes did ordain the Lombardish lav Champ 
 of Battle. 
 
 So is there another law that is called the Law of 
 Lombardy ; wherein be comprised many divers 
 things ; and in the same by especial, the mas- 
 ters that stablished it have thereupon written 
 many causes to which men may give gage for to 
 fight in champ of battle. And out of the same laws 
 are come almost all the judgments of giving of gage ; 
 that is to say, a token of defiance for to befight his 
 enemy within a close field, which men call champ oi
 
 270 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 battle. So shall I tell thce some of those causes, that 
 is to wile ; If a man acouseth his wife, that she 
 hath treated or bespoken for to majce him die, other 
 by poison, or by some other secret death whereof by 
 some colour, he hath her in suspicion ; but she can- 
 not be to the truth truly attainted : or else when the 
 husband is dead, and his kinsmen putteth upon his 
 wife, that she hath made him to be brought to 
 death if this woman can find a kinsman of her's, or 
 some other friend that will fight for her, bearing out 
 that that which is laid upon her, is falsely said, the 
 Lombardish law will that he shall be received for to 
 light for her, against whomsoever will blame her. 
 
 Item. If a man 'were accused that he had slain 
 another, and that this could not be proved against 
 him ; if he casteth his gage against him that accuseth 
 him, the law will that he be received. 
 
 Item. Scmblably 1 , if he had beat a man under as- 
 surance. 
 
 Item. 'If a man have slain another man, both all 
 alone, and that he woll make a proof by gage of his 
 body, that it was in his defencing, and that the other 
 assailed him first ; the said law will that he shall be 
 heard. 
 
 Item. If a man, after the decease of some kins- 
 man of his, of whom he ought to have the goods by 
 succession, as next kin, were accused to have slain 
 
 1 in like manner.
 
 I EATS OF ARMS, SfC. 271 
 
 him, for to have his livelihood and his goods, he may 
 defend himself thereof by his body, after the form 
 aforesaid. 
 
 Itfm. If a man were put upon, and accused to 
 have lain with a man's wife, the which case, after 
 this law, if her husband or kinsman complain to the 
 justice, is capital death ; that is to say, worthy to 
 lose his head for the same ; the said law will that 
 this man shall move 1 [to] defend himself by gage of 
 battle. 
 
 Item. In likewise it is of a man's daughter, being 
 yet under the rule of her parents ; if they dcf com- 
 plain of some man that hath had fellowship with 
 her, tho' it was with her good will ; this law will 
 that he die, but if he defend himself thereof by champ 
 of battle, in case the thing were so secretly kept that 
 it might not be proved against him : for if manifest 
 or openly known it were, (if the kinsmen will,) ther,e 
 were no remedy. And therefore this law should 
 seem well strange in France, and in other place, that 
 a man should die for such a case, seeing that it was 
 by the good will of the woman, wedded or not 
 wedded. And this law is upon such a reason found- 
 ed, where it is truth that a man taketh death by 
 sentence of the law or of justice, for to have com- 
 mitted a small theft of gold or of silver, a jewel 01 
 other thing : of which case whatsoever necessity 
 
 1 may ; i. c. shall be empowered.
 
 272 THE BOOK OF THfi 
 
 hath brought him thereto, shall not move excuse hirm 
 but that justice shall keep upon him her rigour, if 
 grace, for respect of some piteous case, be not to 
 him imparted and made. Why then shall be spared 
 he that hath despoiled and taken away the honour 
 and worship not only of a woman alone, but of her 
 husband, and of both their lineages ? And because 
 that where this folk that first made and stablished 
 these laws, praise and set much more by worship, 
 than they did of gold nor of silver; they concluded 
 that yet much more ought to have deserved death, 
 he that robbed another of the aforesaid honour, where- 
 by all a -whole kindred is reproved, than if he had 
 taken from them whatsomever other thing ; and 
 therefore some did say that the law was } r et well 
 gracious and piteous to them, when such folk were 
 not more cruelly punished than other that were 
 worthy of death ; that is to wit, that it made them 
 not to die of a more cruel death, than for another case. 
 Another case putteth the said law, that should 
 seem all enough against reason. That is to wit. 
 that if a man had stolen certain lifclodt 1 , house or 
 land, or namely, moveable goods, the space of thirty 
 year, or more ; and that another should accuse him 
 that through evil and deceivable means he had it, 
 and falsely had possessed it ; that if this accuser of- 
 fer; d to prove the same only by his body in champ 
 
 1 livelihood, lifehold.
 
 FEATS OF ARMS, $C. 275 
 
 of battle, he shall be received thereunto. But with-* 
 out fail, notwithstanding this law, 1 tell thee well, 
 that foolish is he that such law accepteth, or such 
 gage. And he that is thereunto called, and that al- 
 ready iath the possession in hand, might answer 
 thus to that other: Fair friend, I have nought to do 
 with thy gage. Fight thyself all alone, if you seem 
 it good : for I shall never fight for this cause. So 
 is there no law that may gainsay him in this case : 
 for prescription is approved of all right. 
 
 Item. Saith the same law, that if it happed 
 two men to fall a-debate together, and that their 
 question were brought to judgment, where both of 
 them should produce 'or bring forth their proofs, to 
 this intention, that if the one party would gainsay 
 the other, and that they could not accord ; if he 
 will make it good by proof of his body, he shall be 
 received. 
 
 Item. If a man taketh an action upon another for 
 certain sum of silver or some jewel, or of some 
 other moveable good, which as he said he lent to his 
 father or mother, and that other denieth him the 
 Same ; he shall also be received against the other to 
 do champ of battle ; if he proffereth to make it good 
 by the same mean. 
 
 Item. If a man Lath be 1 brought to loss and da- 
 mage by fortune of fire in his house, or in his grange, 
 
 1 been. 
 "VOL. I. T
 
 C74 THE BOOK OF THE 
 
 or other tiling ; if he will prove against another in 
 manner aforesaid, that he hath put the fire therein, 
 he shall be heard. 
 
 Item. If a man complaineth over his wife, that 
 she is no good woman ; tho' he do this for a will 
 for to close her within a wall, or for to be quit of 
 her, or that she should be banished from her dowry ; 
 she may defend hereof herself, if she can find a 
 champion that will fight against her husband for 
 her ; and if the husband refuseth him, he shall not 
 be believed. 
 
 Item. If a man haunteth in the house of a wedded 
 man, if the husband will say that this man hath 
 haunted, and haunteth for to have a-do with his wife, 
 for to shame her and him ; this other man that so 
 haunteth there may defend him against the husband 
 by gage of battle. Whereof I^do laugh, considering 
 such a folly ; that if the fellow that is so accused 
 were great and strong, it were well bestowed, if he 
 feel himself innocent, that he should beat well and 
 thrifty in the champ, that jealous and foolish hus- 
 band. 
 
 Item. If a man accuseth another, that he hath 
 perjured himself in judgment ; he that is so accused 
 may gainsay it, as it is said. 
 
 INI any other things containeth the said law that 
 concernen champ of battle, which I leave for short- 
 ness of the matter, as a thing not needful more for to
 
 FEATS OF ABMS, &JC; 
 
 say. But so much is to be understand, that these battles 
 are sometime done by the principal persons, when a rea- 
 sonable case of some letting falleth there. As it were. 
 If a man too young were accused, or a man that were 
 too old, or a man that had some sickness, or that were 
 impotent, 'and could not help himself, and sometime 
 a woman, and all such other persons; the which 
 things are all enough expressed and named in the 
 said laws ; and namely, if a bondman said that his 
 lord had made him free of his bond and servitude, 
 and this he will make good by his body, the lord is 
 not holden to receive battle therefore ; but ought to 
 deliver him a champion; And more it saith, that 
 two clerks of like degree, may have leave to fight 
 each other in champ of battle. Of the which thing 
 sauffe l her grace, I say that she hath wrong to in- 
 termit herself in such a case of any man of the 
 church : for the canon that ought more to be 
 obeyed, defendeth them expressly all manner of battle 
 and violent hurt. And I ask thee, if a man im- 
 potent as it is said, may set for himself such 
 a champion as shall please him. I answer thee, 
 that the champions that be committed for ano- 
 ther are, in this deed of battle, figured, or in 
 figure of procurers and advocates of plea; which 
 office every man may do for another if he will, 
 if right expressly gainsayeth it not. Right even 
 
 1 save. 
 T 2
 
 C;G THE BOOK OF THE FEATS OF ARMS, fyc. 
 
 so it is of the champions : for whatsoever will, 
 he may be one, so that right gainsay him not for 
 some cause : for a thief, or some other, that tofore 
 had committed some great evil or crime, should not 
 be received thereto, nor no man that is known of evil 
 fame. And the reason is good ; that is to wit, that 
 if such a man entered a champ of battle for another, 
 and were vanquished there, men should "went that it 
 had been for his own sins ; and that therefore he 
 had lost the battle. 
 
 This book, together with the u Order of 
 Chivalry," above treated of, and another en- 
 titled, the " Knight of the Tower," contain, I 
 apprehend, the greater part of the doctrines of 
 Chivalry- The " Knight of the Tower," re- 
 lates chiefly to the education and conduct of 
 women. The books are all very curious, and 
 obviously require republication.
 
 ( 277 ) 
 
 ROMANCE. 
 
 ON account of the supposed immoral ten- 
 dency of Romances, a very severe censure has 
 been passed upon them by the famous Roger 
 Ascham. He says that " In our forefathers' 
 time, when papistry, as a standing pool, cover- 
 ed and overflowed all England, few books 
 were read in our tongue, saving certain books 
 of chivalry, as they said, for pastime and plea- 
 sure ; which, as some say, were made in mo- 
 nasteries, by idle monks, or wanton canons : for 
 example, Morte Arthur, the whole pleasure of 
 which book standeth in two special points in 
 open man-slaughter and bold bawdry. In which 
 book, those be counted the noblest knights 
 that kill most men without any quarrel, and 
 commit foulest adulteries by subtlest shifts : as 
 sir Lancelot, with the wife of king Arthur, his 
 master ; sir Tristram, with the wife of king 
 Muck, his uncle; sir Lamerock, with the wife
 
 i275 ROMANCE. 
 
 of king Lote, that was his own aunt. This is 
 good stuff for wise men to laugh at, or honest 
 men to take pleasure in. Yet (says he) I 
 know when God's Bible was banished the 
 court, and Morte Arthur received into the 
 prince's chamber." 
 
 Though we should refuse to subscribe to 
 this illiberal and puritanical manner of view- 
 ing the productions of chivalry ; yet the pas- 
 sage furnishes a proof of their prevalence, and 
 of the predominant taste of the age, (at least 
 among the higher ranks,) even in Ascham's 
 time. After briefly noticing their origin, it 
 may not be improper in this place, to state the 
 effects which these compositions, in the opi- 
 nions of men of a more enlightened and liberal 
 cast of sentiment, have produced relatively to 
 social improvement. 
 
 Romance was the offspring of chivalry ; as 
 chivalry again was the result of the feudal sys- 
 tem. Agreeably to the institutions of that 
 system, each landed proprietor was a soldier ; 
 and was obliged, by the conditions of his te- 
 nure, to follow his lord on horseback when he 
 went to war. Hence a soldier was, in those 
 times, a man of the first importance and con- 
 sideration. The youth, from their earliest
 
 ROMANCE. 79 
 
 childhood, were initiated in the use of arms ; 
 and were taught to look forward for their fame 
 and consideration in society, and for the still 
 more inspiring remuneration of the smiles of 
 the fair, to military achievement and heroic 
 adventure. War, therefore, became the ob- 
 ject of their most eager and enthusiastic aspira- 
 tions ; and though they seldom wanted oppor- 
 tunities for the display of their courage, the 
 occasional intervals of peace seem to have 
 given birth to tilts and tournaments, justs and 
 defiances, which furnished at once the schools 
 of chivalry, and a vent for their ever-active 
 heroism. All differences were decided by an 
 appeal to the sword, whether it consisted of 
 treason, or rape, or murder. The restless spi- 
 rit of this system, too, stimulated its profes- 
 sors to go in quest of adventures for the mere 
 pleasure of achieving them ; and diligently to 
 seek for acts of oppression and wrong, not so 
 much in the first instance, that they may re- 
 lieve the oppressed, and redress the wrong, as 
 for the delight they felt in martial activity. 
 
 The first Romances were merely the record 
 of the adventures and achievements of these 
 military heros ; and consisted simply of songs 
 sung by the minstrels at festivals and convivial
 
 280 ROMANCE. 
 
 meetings, accompanied by the music of the 
 harp. The particular machinery of giants, 
 fairies, dragons, and enchantments of all sorts, 
 is supposed to have been furnished by the 
 Scalds, or Scandinavian bards ; to which 
 were added the other wonderful materials mi- 
 vented in the 12th and 13th centuries. 
 
 The first symptom of the existence of Ro- 
 mantic stories, occurs at the battle of Hastings, 
 A- D. 1066. Taillefer, a soldier in the army of 
 William the Conqueror, and who first broke 
 the ranks of the English, is recorded to have 
 sung on that occasion the song of Roland, one 
 of the heros of Charlemagne. From the cir- 
 cumstance of this song being sung with a 
 view to awaken martial enthusiasm, it is na- 
 tural to infer, that not only this, but others of 
 a like description must have become popular 
 in Normany for some time prior to the Nor- 
 man invasion. From the various songs exisk- 
 ing on the subject of Roland, Oliver, and the 
 other heros of the imaginary war of Charle- 
 magne, against the Saracens in Spain, was com-r 
 piled, about the year II 00, a large prose narra- 
 tive in Latin, and supposed to have been the, 
 production of Turpin, archbishop of Rheims. 
 It was given to the world as a real history of
 
 ROMANCE. 381 
 
 the exploits of that monarch, and of the twelve 
 peers of France, his cotcmporaries. This 
 work, together with that of Geoffrey of Mon- 
 mouth, before mentioned, are considered as 
 the main sources of Romantic fiction. 
 
 Chivalry originated in the eleventh century. 
 The first regular Romance of which we have 
 any account, appeared in the succeeding one, 
 It was entitled Le Brut d'dugleterre, and was 
 written by Robert Wace, a native of Jersey, 
 who was about thirty years younger than Geof- 
 frey of Monmouth, from whose fabulous his- 
 tory he obviously derived his materials, 
 
 But Arthur and Charlemagne are not the 
 only themes of these fictious narratives. The 
 writers of Romance in the twelfth and thir- 
 teenth centuries, had likewise recourse to the 
 Trojan war; -the history of Alexander the 
 Great ; and the Crusades ; all of which subjects 
 were treated in the vuigar, or Romance 
 tongue. And it is a peculiar feature of these 
 compositions, that whatsoever the subject, or 
 the period whence the characters are drawn, 
 they are uniformly invested with the costume 
 of the age of chivalry. 
 
 The first Romances were all written in verse ; 
 and like the separate songs from \\ Inch they were
 
 ROMANCE. 
 
 originally compiled, were accustomed to be 
 sung by the minstrels, and subsequently to be 
 also recited by the discurs, at public enter- 
 tainments. But as manners and customs al- 
 tered by the lapse of ages, the profession of 
 minstrelsy decayed ; the metrical Romances be- 
 came less in request at public festivities, and 
 were imperceptibly superseded by Romances 
 in prose. There are consequently, (as Mr. 
 Ellis observes,) two Afferent aeras, as well as 
 characters, to be distinguished in Romances ; 
 that of their composition in verse, during the 
 reigns of the successors of William the Con- 
 queror : the second, the time when these Ro- 
 mances were reduced to prose, and accommo- 
 dated to the opinions existing at the time of 
 their refabrication. The first prose Romances 
 incur language were, the History of Troy; 
 the Life of Charlemagne ; the Histories of Ja- 
 son, Paris, and Vyenne; the Death of King 
 Arthur ; and other prose compositions of Chi, 
 valry. All these were translated and printed 
 by Caxton, from the French. 
 
 In considering the influence of Romance 
 upon the progress of general improvement, it 
 should be recollected, that prior to its exist- 
 ence, the Latin language was the only vehicle
 
 ROMANCE. 
 
 of literary compositions throughout Europe. 
 Romances had the effect of establishing, in 
 some sort, a common language ; and of ex- 
 citing other nations besides the French, to im- 
 prove by translation their native tongues. 
 But their most important effect was, that the 
 literary compositions of the day, no longer 
 confined to the few who were professionally 
 learned, became intelligible to the ladies and 
 to the people ; and a love of reading, and a 
 taste for poetry in particular, was generally 
 diffused. The compositions of the Romantic 
 versifiers became the most favourite amuse- 
 ment with princes and feudal lords, whose 
 courts, by degrees, displayed a more refined 
 taste in pleasure and magnificence ; and these 
 arts of entertainment, thus rendered universally 
 fashionable, gradually laid the foundation for 
 polite literature. 
 
 Again the Romances contain various pleas-? 
 ing images of ancient customs, manners, and in- 
 stitutions, often delineated in a very striking and 
 peculiar manner. They are, besides, the genuine 
 repositarics of those tales of -chivalry which 
 awakened the imagination, and formed the 
 taste of our early poetical writers. Considered 
 jn these points of view, they lose their frivo-
 
 84 ROMANCE. 
 
 lous and unimportant character ; and must be 
 allowed to be necessary objects of research to 
 him, who would trace the history of man in the 
 progress of human society. 
 
 It must be admitted, however, that the most 
 formidable objection against these composi- 
 tions is, the frequent examples they contain 
 of indecorous conduct. Yet these improprie- 
 ties are referable not to the principles of chi- 
 valry, but to the practice of the knights. We 
 have seen from a preceding article *, and learn 
 from other sources, that some of those prin- 
 ciples are among flie purest ahd most exalted 
 by which human nature can be guided. The 
 knight, on receiving the order of knighthood, 
 takes an oath to devote himself to the defence 
 of religion, of his prince, and of his country ; 
 to protect the feeble, particularly women, wi- 
 dows, and orphans ; to go in quest of thieves, 
 robbers, and other miscreants, that they may 
 be brought to condign punishment ; and above 
 all, he was required to maintain his oath invio- 
 lable. The true knight was expected to possess 
 strength, swiftness, with the other accomplish- 
 ments of bodily activity. His soul, lofty an4 
 enterprising, was adorned with all that can in^ 
 * The Order of Knighthood.
 
 ROMANCE;. 
 
 spire admiration, or kindle affection. His va-* 
 lour was dauntless in the field, though the ge- 
 nerosity of his courage ever forbad him to ex- 4 
 lilt over his vanquished foe. He was wise, 
 just, humane, charitable, beneficent. As a 
 check to the arrogance and pride of the war- 
 rior, his principles strictly enjoined him mo- 
 desty and humility; and this constellation of 
 noble qualities, received additional lustre from 
 manners the most gentle and courteous, dignH 
 fied with a character of spotless honour, and 
 unshaken truth. The whole was crowned with 
 an enthusiastic devotion to the fair, whom he 
 was not only prompted by inclination, but re- 
 quired by the rules of his order, to love, pro- 
 tect, and adore. Among these, he was obliged 
 to select one to whom he might devote him- 
 self with a peculiar constancy of attachment. 
 Her he constituted the judge of his actions, 
 the empress of his soul ; and from her hands 
 he received the prize in tournaments the re- 
 ward of his dexterity and valour. 
 
 The women, on the other hand, adored chi* 
 valry, and were ambitious of recommending 
 themselves to the knights, by all the graces of 
 virtue and feminine accomplishments. Their 
 attentions to them were the mo^t generous
 
 2S(> ROMANCE. 
 
 \ 
 
 and flattering. It was their office to unarrfi 
 the knights, to cure their wounds, and to per- 
 form for them all the offices of hospitality : for 
 the liberal spirit of chivalry sanctified even 
 
 menial services deeming no actiondeo: radino; 
 o o o 
 
 which was performed for a worthy object. 
 13y this reciprocation of kind offices of mutual 
 respect and affection, operating on occasions 
 of interest frequently occurring, the heart was 
 touched with the magic of feeling ; and ima- 
 gination, the purifier of the affections, the re- 
 finer of the soul, at length awoke from the 
 long and dreary night of ignorance. By con- 
 templating the fancied images of perfection 
 in the characters of a valorous knight, and of 
 an all accomplished woman, the passions were 
 gradually sublimed from the grossness of mere 
 sensual appetite ; and though they were still 
 too frequently indulged at the expence of vir- 
 tue, gratification now began to be ennobled by 
 the grace of sentiment. The objects which 
 men delight to contemplate, they will soon 
 learn to paint or describe ; and this admira- 
 tion of excellence first called forth those en- 
 thusiastic and heroic songs, which distinguish- 
 ed and adorned the age of chivalry. Inspired 
 by this flattering applause, the hero of Ko~
 
 ROMANCE. 287 
 
 inance was encouraged to still higher achieve- 
 ments, to more daring enterprize ; and his 
 mistress participating in his wild enthusiasm, 
 was more and more intent to heighten those 
 personal and mental charms, which she con- 
 ceived most likely to gain and to fix his love. 
 The state of manners now underwent a total 
 change, and the intercourse between the 
 sexes was marked by a degree of refinement 
 and delicacy hitherto unknown. 
 
 Such were some of the principal effects which 
 chivalry produced upon the ages in which it 
 florished ; and regarded simply as a oause ope- 
 rating on the general progress of society, by 
 first rousing the nations from barbarism, its in- 
 fluence was undoubtedly great. But this in- 
 fluence ceased not with the practice of chi- 
 valry. It is still discoverable in the principle 
 of modern honour, and in other peculiar man- 
 ners and prejudices, which distinguish the mo- 
 dern from the ancient world. 
 
 There is yet a point of view in which Ro- 
 mance may be regarded, I think, to advantage, 
 even in the present age. The most interesting 
 qualities in a chivalrous knight, are his high 
 toned enthusiasm and disinterested spirit of ad- 
 venture qualities to which, when properly mo-
 
 SSS ROMANCE. 
 
 dified and directed, society owes its highest im- 
 provements. Such are the feelings of benevolent 
 genius yearning to diffuse love and peace and 
 happiness among the human race. The gorgeous 
 visions of the imagination, familiar to the en- 
 thusiastic soul, purify the heart from selfish 
 pollutions, and animate to great and beneficent 
 action. Indeed, nothing great or eminently 
 beneficial ever has been, or can be effected 
 without enthusiasm without feelings more 
 exalted than the consideration of simple mat- 
 ter of fact can produce. That Romances have 
 a tendency to excite the enthusiastic spirit, 
 we have the evidence of fact in numerous in- 
 stances. Hereafter, we shall hear the great 
 Milton indirectly bearing his testimony of ad- 
 miration and gratitude for their inspiring in- 
 fluence. It is of little consequence, compa- 
 ratively speaking, whether all the impressions 
 ma,de, be founded in strict philosophical truth. 
 If the imagination be awakened and the heart 
 
 O 
 
 warmed, we need give ourselves little concern 
 about the final result. The first object is to 
 elicit power. Without power nothing can be 
 accomplished. Should the heroic spirit chance 
 to be excited by reading Romances, we have, 
 alas ! too much occasion for that spirit even
 
 ROMANCE. 289 
 
 in modern times, to wish to repress its ge- 
 neration. Since the Gallic hero has cast his 
 malign aspect over the nations, it is become 
 almost as necessary to social security, as during 
 the barbarism of the feudal times. There is 
 now little danger of its being directed to an 
 unintelligible purpose. 
 
 Romances then, not only merit attention, 
 as enabling us to enter into the feelings and 
 sentiments of our ancestors a circumstance 
 in itself curious, and even necessary to a com- 
 plete knowledge of the history of past ages ; 
 they may still be successfully employed to a- 
 waken the mind to inspire genius : and when 
 this effect is produced, the power thus created 
 may be easily made to bear on any point de- 
 sired*. 
 
 : * Those -who have the taste to be interested in Romantic li- 
 terature, are under considerable obligations to Mr Southey, for 
 his translation of Amadis de Gaul, the most celebrated of all 
 the old Romances. This is perhaps one of the most beautiful 
 books that ever was written ; and the translation is certainly as 
 faithful a one as ever appeared. The Romances are all trans- 
 lated either from French or Italian translation ; the costume 
 corrupted ; the morals rendered still worse, and the tru^chz- 
 
 vox,. r. u
 
 290 ROMANCE. 
 
 It is now time to close the account of books 
 printed by Caxton. The few from which I 
 have given extracts, together with the accom- 
 panying remarks, will serve to assist the unin- 
 formed reader to some idea of the litera- 
 ture of this period. Caxton began to print, as 
 we have seen, in 1471; but it is remarkable, 
 that from that year to 1540, during which pe- 
 riod the English press was in a very florishing 
 state, under many ingenious, learned, and in- 
 dustrious artists, only the few following clas- 
 sics, (if they merit that title,) were printed in 
 England, viz. Boethius de Consolatione, both 
 Latin and English, for Caxton, without date. 
 
 racter of language atterly lost. In the Amadis de Gaul of Sou- 
 they, these faults are corrected ; in particular, that half of Ro- 
 ger AschanVs objection to such compositions which respects 
 their indelicacy, is completely obviated, either by the total re- 
 jection of the objectionable passages, or by veiling their gross- 
 ness ; and the chastest ears may now listen without a blush 
 to the tales of chivalrous heros, and their intercourses with 
 their adored fair ones. The Palmerin of England, just pub- 
 lished, is another of the admired productions of chivalry. It is 
 about 15O years later than Amadis ; it is inferior also in merit j 
 yet it possesses much interest, and is likewise edited with great 
 .care. We have heard also, that the subject of Romance is 
 about to receive full illustration from the antiquarian and clas- 
 sical pea of Mr. Walter Scot; and we may be permitted U> 
 hope, that the public curiosity will not be disappointed.
 
 ROMANCE. 
 
 ^sop's Fables, Latin, in verse, for Wynkin 
 de Worde, 1503, 4to. and once or twice after- 
 wards. Terence, with the Comment of Badi- 
 us Ascensius, for the same, 1504, 4to. Vir- 
 gil's Bucolics, for the same, 1512, 4to< ; and 
 again in 1533. Tully's Offices, Latin and 
 English, translated by Whittington, 1533, 4to. 
 One book only, Tuliy's Epistles, was pro- 
 duced during this period, by the University of 
 Oxford ; and that was at the expence of Car- 
 dinal Wolsey, without date, or printer's name. 
 By Cambridge, not a single classic. 
 
 No Greek book had as yet appeared from 
 an English press. In Linacer's translation of 
 Galen de Temperamentis, printed at Cambridge 
 in 1521, 4to. are found a few Greek words and 
 abreviations, which are said to be the first Greek 
 characters ever used in England. The book 
 was printed by John Siberch, a friend of Eras- 
 mus, and a German, who stiles himself primus 
 utri usque lingua in Anglia impressor* But he 
 printed no entire Greek book. The introduc 
 tion of Hebrew, Chaldee, Arabic types, 8cc 
 was still later, and attended with more diffi. 
 culty. 
 
 It is observable, that most of the books 
 printed by Caxton, were translated from the
 
 292 XOMANCE. 
 
 French. From what has been already said, 
 the reasons must be obvious. The knowledge 
 of the learned languages was not sufficiently ex- 
 tended to make it the interest of the first print- 
 ers to publish the classics. Besides, the atten- 
 tion of the whole reading world was pre-occu- 
 pied by the more splendid and marvellous tales 
 of chivalry ; not to mention the superstition 
 which pervaded all ranks, and which rendered 
 such books as ordinals, confessionals, and par- 
 ticularly such as tended to encourage the libe- 
 ral contributions of the faithful, more grateful 
 to holy church, than the prophane lore of hea- 
 then authors. 
 
 Yet, even the illiteracy of the times was a cir- 
 cumstance favourable to English literature : 
 for the multiplication of English books neces- 
 sarily multiplied English readers ; and these 
 again produced more vernacular writers. 
 
 The reason why none of the existing trans- 
 lations of the Old and New Testament were 
 printed, is explained by a passage of sir Tho- 
 mas More ; who says, " That on account of 
 the penalties 1 ordered by archbishop Arundel's 
 constitution, though the old translations that 
 were before Wiclifte's days, remained lawful, 
 and were in some folks hands, had and read,
 
 ROMANCE. 
 
 yet (he thought) no printer would lightly he so 
 hot to put any bible in print, at his own charge, 
 and then hang upon a doubtful trial, whether 
 the first copy of his translation was made be- 
 fore Wicliffe's days, or since: for (says he,) 
 if it be made since, it must be approved be- 
 fore the printing." This approbation, how- 
 ever} sir Thomas himself intimates, was not to 
 be obtained.
 
 ( 294 ) 
 
 FABIAN. 
 
 ROBERT FABIAN, or FABYAN, was born in 
 Jjondon, though in what particular year is not 
 mentioned. Being brought up to trade, he 
 became an opulent merchant, was ultimately 
 chosen one of the aldermen of the city, and 
 in the 9th of Henry VII. had the honour of 
 being elected one of the sheriffs. He died in 
 1512. 
 
 For the period in which he florished, he was 
 a man of some learning. In his knowledge of 
 the Latin, he was excelled by no layman of 
 his time. He likewise wrote poetry in Eng- 
 lish, Latin, and French ; but his favourite pur^ 
 suit was the study of history ; and he compiled 
 a Chronicle, by which his name has descended 
 to posterity. Of this Chronicle, stiled, " The
 
 FABIAN. 
 
 Ooncordaunce of Stories," the following acv 
 count is given in the Biographia Britan- 
 nica: 
 
 t; It was first printed in London, in 1515, fol. 
 by R. Pynson, and afterwards by William Ras- 
 tell, 1533, fol. in neat and small black types, 
 and on good paper. At the conclusion of each 
 part, there is a hymn to the Virgin Mary, 
 (omitted in the following editions.) And at 
 the end of all, ' Thus endeth Fabian's Chroni- 
 cle. Printed by William Rastell, and fynyshed 
 the laste daye of December, in the yere of our 
 Lorde, M. V. C. and xxxiii.' There are also at 
 the end five leaves, which bring down the his- 
 tory to the beginning of king Henry VIII. but 
 are omitted in subsequent editions, particularly 
 in one of the year 1559, now before us. The 
 whole work is divided into two volumes : where- 
 of the first begins at Brute, and ends at the 
 death of our Henry IL and Philip II. king of 
 France. The second volume,' which is the 
 most valuable of the two, contains the Chro- 
 nicles of England and of France, from the be- 
 ginning of the reign of king Richard I. until 
 the end of the reign of Charles IX. of France; 
 that' is, till the year 1504, the 20th of king 
 Henry VII, And it appears by the conclusion,
 
 96 FABIAN. 
 
 that it was finished by the author, November 
 7th, 1504. The second volume begins with an 
 account of the wards of London, and the pa- 
 rish churches in each ward ; and then are set 
 down the bailifls of that city under every year, 
 from the time they were appointed, that is, 
 from 1 IQOj until the year 1209, when the two 
 bailiffs were converted by king John, into a 
 mayor and two shireves. Of these the author 
 gives exact lists, under each year, as 1'ar as his 
 Chronicle reaches. He comprehends, as it is 
 said in the title r page, the Chronicles of Eng- 
 land and of France ; not altogether, or under 
 the respective years, but in distinct chapters 
 or articles, denoted in the beginning by the 
 words Anglia and Francia. We are told that 
 Cardinal Wolsey, caused as many copies of 
 this book as he could come at, to be burnt, 
 because the author had made too clear a disco- 
 very of the clergy. As for the character it 
 bears, 'tis called by one who was a good judge, 
 ' a painful labour, to the great honour of the 
 city, and of the whole realm.' He is very par- 
 ticular in the affairs of London, many good 
 things being noted by him (which concern the 
 government thereof,) hardly to be had else- 
 where. In the beginning of his seventh part,
 
 FABIAN. 
 
 he observes Ralph Higdcn's method of making 
 his years commence at Michaelmas; and is in 
 other respects a great follower of that author." 
 The story of king Lear, and his three daugh- 
 ters, as related in the first book of Geoffrey of 
 Momnouth, and which has been, immortalized 
 by Shakespeare, we find detailed also in Fa- 
 bian ; chapters 14, 15, and 16. 
 
 Lear, the son of Baldud, was made ruler over the 
 Britons, the year of the world 4338. This Lear was 
 noble of conditions, and guided his land and subjects 
 in great wealth. He made the town of Caerleyr, 
 now called Leyceter, or Leycester. And albeit that 
 this man held long the principality of Britain, yet 
 of him is nothing left worthy memory, except that 
 Gaufnd saith, that he received of his wife three 
 daughters only, without any son, which were named 
 Conorilla, Ragan, and Cordelia; the which he much 
 loved, but most specially he loved the youngest, Cor- 
 delia by name. 
 
 When this Lear, or Lcyth, after some writers, was 
 fallen in competent age to know the mind of his 
 three daughters, he first asked Conorilla, the eldest, 
 Low well she loved him ; the which, calling her Gods 
 to record, said she loved him more than her own 
 soul. "With this answer her father being well con- 
 tented, demanded of Ragan, the second daughter.
 
 293 i ASIAN. 
 
 how well she loved him. To whom she answered, 
 and affirming with great oaths, said that she could 
 not with her tongue express the great love that she 
 bare to him ; affirming furthermore, that she loved 
 him above all creatures. After these pleasant an- 
 swers, had of those two daughters, he called before 
 him Cordelia, the youngest, the which understand- 
 ing the dissimulation of her two sisters, intending to 
 prove her father, said, Most reverend father, where 
 my two sisters have dissembled with thee, with their 
 pleasant words fruitless, I, knowing the great love 
 and fatherly zeal that toward me ever before this 
 time thou hast borne, (for the which I may not 
 speak to thee otherwise than my conscience leadeth 
 me,) therefore J say to thee, father, I have loved 
 thee even as my father, and shall continually while 
 I live, love thee as my .natural father. And if thou 
 wilt further be inquisitive of the love that I to thee 
 bear; I ascertain thee, that as much as thou art 
 worthy to be beloved, even so much I love thee and 
 .no more. 
 
 The father with this answer being discontent, 
 married his two elder daughters, that one unto the 
 duke of Cornwall, and that other unto the duke of Al- 
 bania, or Scotland, and divided with them two in 
 marriage, his land of Britain, after his death ; and 
 the one half in hand, during his natural life. And 
 for the third, Cordelia, reserved nothing.
 
 FABIAN. 299 
 
 It so fortuned after, that Aganippus, which the 
 Chronicle of England named A gamp, and king of 
 France, heard of the beauty and womanhood of Cor- 
 delia, and sent unto her father, and axed her in 
 marriage. To whom it was answered, that the king 
 would gladly give to him his daughter ; but for 
 dower he would not depart with : for he had all pro- 
 mised unto his other two daughters. 
 
 Aganippus, thus by his mcssagyers 1 informed, re- 
 membered the virtues of the forenamed Cordelia, and 
 without promise of dower, married the said Cor- 
 delia. 
 
 But here is to be noted, that where this Aganippus, 
 or'Agamp, is called, in divers Chronicles, king of 
 France, it cannot agree with other histories, nor 
 with the Chronicle of France : for it is testified by 
 Polychronica, by Peter Pictavience, by master Ro- 
 bert Gagwyne, by bishop Antonyne, and many other 
 Chronicles, that long after this day there was no 
 king in France ; nor long after it was called France ; 
 but at this day the inhabitants thereof were called 
 Galli, and were tributaries unto Rome, without king, 
 till the time of Valentinianus, emperor of Rome, as 
 hereafter in this work shall be manifestly shewed. 
 
 The story oT Britons saith, that in the time that 
 Lear reigned in Britain, the land of France was un- 
 der the dominion of twelve kings, of the which Aga-
 
 300 FABIAN. 
 
 nippu? should be one. The which saying is full of 
 u-nlike to be true, which might be proved by many 
 reasons, which I pass over for length of time. 
 
 Then it followeth in the story after this Lear 
 was fallen in age, these foresaid two dukes think- 
 ing long or the lordship of Britain was fallen 
 to their hands, arose again 1 their father, (as tes- 
 tifieth Gaufrede,) and bereft him the governance 
 of the land upon certain conditions, to be con- 
 tinued for term of life. The which, in process of 
 time, more and more were minished*, as well by 
 Maglaunus, as by Henninus, husbands of the fore- 
 named Conori'.la and Ra^an. But most displeased 
 Lt-ar, the unkindness of his two daughters, consider- 
 ing their words to him before spoken, and sworn, 
 and now found and proved them all contrary. 
 
 For the which he being of necessity constrained, 
 fled his land, and sailed into Gallia, for to be com- 
 v forted of his daughter Cordelia ; whereof she having 
 knowledge, of natural kindness, comforted him. And 
 after shewing all the manner to her husband, by his 
 agreement, received him and his to her lord's court, 
 where he was cherished after her best manner. 
 
 Long it were to shew unto you the circumstance 
 of the utterance of the nnkindness of his two daugh- 
 ters, and of the words of comfort given to him by 
 .Aganippus and Cordelia, or of the council and pur- 
 
 1 against. 'diminished.
 
 FABIAN. SO! 
 
 veyance made by the said Aganippus and his lords, 
 for restoring of Lear again to his dominion. But 
 finally, he was, by the help of the said Aganippus, 
 restored again to his lordship ; and so possessed, 
 lived as ruler and governor thereof by the space of 
 three years after; in which season died Aganippus. 
 And when this Lear had ruled this laud by the 
 term of forty years, as affirmeth divers Chronicles,, 
 he died and was buried at his town of Caerleir, or 
 Leister ; leaving after him for to inherit the land, his 
 daughter Cordelia. 
 
 Cordelia, the youngest daughter of Lear, was, by 
 assent of the Britons, made lady of Britain, in the? 
 year of the world, four thousand three hundred and 
 ninety-eight, the which guided the land full wisely, 
 by the time or space of five years complete; the 
 which time expired and run, her two nephews, called 
 Margan and Cunedagi, sons of her two sisters, came 
 upon her land, and made therein great waste and de- 
 struction ; and at the last took herand cast her into a 
 strong prison, where she, being despaired of the re- 
 covery of her estate, (as testifieth Gaufryde,) slew 
 herself, when she had reigned, as before is declared, 
 by the term of five years. 
 
 I shall present the reader \vith one extract
 
 302 FABIAN. 
 
 more taken from the 83d chapter. It is 
 the relation of the celebrated interview be- 
 tween Vortigern and Rowena, (stiled by our au- 
 thor Ronowen,) together with the arrival of 
 St. Germain, and bishop Lupus, to extirpate 
 the Pelagian (or according to Fabian, the 
 Arian) heresy. Both these stories are related 
 in the third book of Geoffrey of Monmouth. 
 
 Then by the soude of Hengist, came with sixteen 
 sails, Ronowen, the daughter of the said Hengist, 
 which was a maiden of excellent beauty. After 
 whose coming, Hengist, upon a day, besought the 
 s king that he would see his castle, which he had 
 newly edified. To whose request the king was 
 agreeable ; and at the day assigned, came to the said 
 castle, where he was joyously received. And there, 
 among other pastimes, the said Ronowen, with a cup 
 of gold, full of wine, presented the king, saluting and 
 saying, wassayle. The king, which before that time 
 had heard no like salutation, nor yet understood 
 what she meant, axed of her father what she meant 
 by that word wassayle.. To whom it was answered 
 by Hengist, that it was a salutation of good and glad- 
 ness, and that the king should drink after her, joining 
 thereunto this answer drink, hail! Wherefore the. 
 king, as he was informed, took the cup of the mai- 
 den's hand, and drank ; and after beheld the wench
 
 FABIAN. 303 
 
 in such manner, that he was wounded with the dart 
 of the blind god Cupid r that never after he could 
 withdraw his love from the \vench ; but lastly, by 
 instigation of the devil, axed her in'marriage of her 
 lather. And by force thereof, as witnesseth Poly- 
 cronica, he put from him his lawful wife, of the 
 which he had before time received three noble sons, 
 called Vortimerus, Catagrinus, and Pascentius. Then 
 the king gave unto Hengistus, the lordship of Kent > 
 tho' Garangonus, then earl thereof, thereat grudged, 
 with many of his Britons. 
 
 For this and for that, that the king had married a 
 woman of uncouth beleze, well near all the Britons 
 forsook him and hk works. Nevertheless, some 
 there were, as well nobles and other, that comforted 
 the king in his evil doing. By which mean and other 
 unleful deeds, then daily used, the faith of Christ be- 
 gan sore to appal. And over that, an heresy, called 
 Arian's heresy, began then to spring in Britain. For 
 the which, two holy bishops, named Germanus and 
 Lupus, as of Gaufryde is witnessed, came into Britain 
 to reform the king, and all other that erred from the 
 way of truth. 
 
 Of this holy man, St. Germayn, Vincent Histo- 
 rial saith, that upon an evening when the weather 
 was passing cold, and the snow fell very fast^ he 
 axed lodging of the king of Britain, for him and his 
 compeers, which was denied. Then he, after sitting
 
 304 FABIAN. 
 
 under a bush in the field, the king's herdman passed 
 by, and seeing this bishop with his company sitting 
 in the weather, desired him to his house to take 
 there such poor lodging as he had. Whereof the bi- 
 shop being glad and fain, yode 1 unto the house of the 
 said herdman, the which received him with glad 
 cheer. And for him and his company, willed his 
 wife to kill his only calf, and to dress it for his 
 guest's supper; the which was also done. When the 
 holy man had supped, he called to him his hostess, 
 willing and desiring her, that she should diligently 
 gather together all the bones of the dead calf; and 
 them so gathered, to wrap together within the skin 
 of the said calf. And then it lay in the stall before 
 the rack near unto the dame. Which done accord- 
 ing to the commandment of the holy man, shortly 
 after the calf was restored to life ; and forthwith ate 
 hay with the dam at the rack. At which marvel 
 all the house was greatly astonished, and yielded 
 thanking unto Almighty God; and to that holy bi- 
 shop. 
 
 Upon the morrow, this holy bishop took with 
 him the herdman, and yude unto the presence of the 
 king, and axed of him in sharp wise, why that 
 over-night he had denied to him lodging. Where- 
 with the king was so abashed, that he had no power 
 to give unto the holy man answer. Then, St Ger- 
 
 1 went.
 
 FABIAN. S05 
 
 main said to him : I charge thee, in the name 
 of the Lord God, that thou and thine depart 
 from this palace, and resign it and the rule of thy 
 land to him that is more worthy this room than 
 thou art. The which all thing by power divine. 
 was observed and done ; and the said herdman, by 
 the holy bishop's authority, was set into the same^ 
 dignity ; of whom after descended all the kings of 
 Britain. 
 
 Of the character of Fabian, as an historian, 
 War ton, in his History of English Poetry, 
 gives the following account : *" Our author 
 is the dullest of compilers. He is equalljr 
 attentive to the mayor3 of London, and to 
 the monarchs of England ; and seems to have 
 thought the dinners at Guildhall, and the 
 pageantries of the city companies, more inter- 
 esting transactions than our victories in France 
 and our struggles for public liberty at home. 
 One of Fabian's historical anecdotes, under 
 the important reign of Henry V, is, that a 
 new weather-cock was placed on the top of 
 St. Paul's steeple. The earlier chapters of thes* 
 childish annals faithfslly record all those 
 fabulous traditions which generally supply the 
 place of historic monuments, in describing the 
 origin of a great nation." 
 
 VOL, I. X
 
 ( 306 ) 
 
 REVIVAL OF LETTERS. 
 
 WE are now arrived on the confines of light. 
 The revival of classical learning about the mid- 
 dle of this century, (the 15th,) created a nevr 
 acra in literature and in human affairs, auspi- 
 cious to every species of improvement. From 
 the influence of this event upon the subsequent 
 progress of knowledge, and particularly of the 
 English language, it may be proper, before en- 
 tering on the reign of Henry VIII. to give a 
 cursory view of the subject, as far at least as it 
 relates to the introduction of the Grecian and 
 Koman learning into England. 
 
 The connection between the ancient and mo- 
 dern learning, "was never entirely dissolved. A- 
 uiidst the violence and general insecurity which 
 prevailed in the middle ages, the Romish clergy, 
 invested by superstition with a mysterious and 
 sanctified authority, which kept the vulgar in
 
 ( 307 ) 
 
 awe, enjoyed that sec'urity and leisure, which 
 are essential to intellectual pursuits. The mo- 
 nastic libraries contained all the literature of 
 the times ; and a few out of the numbers who 
 were intellectually idle, were prompted either 
 from inherent activity of character, or simply 
 as a remedy for listlessness, to read, and after- 
 wards to write. We are thus indebted to the 
 monkish writers for those few rays of light 
 which gleam through the darkness of that sa- 
 vage period. Though the taste and stile of 
 the monkish historians are as barbarous as the 
 age in which they lived ; yet, from their frequent 
 allusions to ancient history, and their quota- 
 tions of ancient authors, it is evident that the 
 more dignified and intelligent churchmen 
 were familiar with the Roman learning. But 
 tb.is learning was confined to the cloister. The 
 profane world was sunk in ignorance and bar- 
 barism. 
 
 About the middle of the fourteenth century, 
 Dante, Petrarca, with his pupil and friend, 
 Boccace, in Italy; and soon after, Chaucer 
 and Gower, in England, by the cultivation of 
 their vernacular languages, commenced a new 
 sera in literary taste, and contributed to en- 
 large the sphere of intellectual pleasures, Pe-
 
 ( 303 ) 
 
 trarca was organized for the higher and more 
 refined emotions ; and his genius, inspired by 
 the most pure and exalted passion, express- 
 ed his glowing feelings in language of cor- 
 respondent truth and delicacy. The strings 
 of the human heart, vibrating in harmony, 
 acknowledged the touch of nature ; and the 
 poetry of Petrarca creating a finer intellectual 
 tact, produced in a few minds, a distaste for 
 romantic imagery and the peculiar] ties of Gothic 
 manners. This incipient diffusion of ajuster 
 sentiment, prepared the way for the complete 
 establishment -of classical refinement in the 
 Succeeding century. 
 
 From the time when the Greek language 
 first became an object of curiosity in England, 
 to the period of Cheke and Smith, those of our 
 countrymen whom literary ardour stimulated to 
 the acquisition of Grecian learning, were com- 
 pelled to resort to Italy, and even to Greece. It 
 appears that there were some symptoms of the re- 
 vival of the Roman and Grecian classics in Eng- 
 land about the time, and even before the capture 
 of Constantinople (1453) impelled the learn- 
 ed Greeks to a refuge in Italy. Among these 
 early classical scholars, I shall mention only a 
 few who were the most distinguished, or the
 
 ( 309 ) 
 
 effects of whose efforts have been most per- 
 manent. 
 
 William Grocyn, fellow of New College, Ox- 
 ford, perfected his knowledge of the Greek 
 tongue at Florence, under Demetrius, Chalcon- 
 dylas, and Politian ; and at Rome under Her- 
 molaus Barbarus. On his return to England, 
 and before the year 1490, he -voluntarily be- 
 came the first lecturer in that language at Ox- 
 ford. It is affirmed, however, by Polydore 
 Virgil, probably from a partiality to his own 
 country, that Cornelius Yitellus, an Italian, of 
 noble birth and great learning, was the first 
 who taught the Greek and Roman classics in 
 that university. 
 
 John Tiptoft, the unfortunate earl of Wor-r 
 cester, was inferior to none of the ecclesiastics 
 of his time in his diligent pursuit of ancient 
 learning. He studied at Padua ; and by the 
 purity and elegance of his Latinity, recommend- 
 ed himself to the notice of pope Pius the Se- 
 cond, and other literati of the Italian school. 
 His Latin letters still remain to evince the just- 
 ness of this encomium. Moreover, he trans- 
 lated Cicero's Dialogue on Friendship, into 
 English; which was printed by Caxton, in 
 1481, fol. He likewise translated into Eng-
 
 ( 310 ) 
 
 lish two elegant Latin orations of Banatusius 
 Magnomontanus, supposed to be spoken by 
 C. bcipio, and C. Flaminius, rivals in the 
 courtship of Lucretia. These were also print- 
 cd by Caxton, with Tully's two Dialogues 
 above mentioned. Tiptoft was the general 
 patron of all those of his countrymen, who 
 were actuatednvith the curiosity to penetrate 
 the mines of antiquity, and to enter on the 
 new plan of study. The Humphredian libra- 
 ry at Oxford was instituted about this time; 
 and he had prepared a present for it of se^- 
 lect MS. books, valued at five hundred marks ; 
 though there is some doubt whether, at the 
 earl's execution in 1470, they had ever been 
 received by the -university. Wood observes, 
 that he had meditated a similar benefaction 
 to Cambridge. 
 
 Italy was at this time the general mart for 
 ancient authors, especially the Greek classics ; 
 and it is scarcely questionable that the above 
 MSS. were purchased there. The Turkish em- 
 perors, now seated at Constantinople, were igr 
 norant of the value of these treasures ; and they 
 became interesting objects of commerce to 
 Italian emissaries dispatched to purchase books, 
 which they afterwards sold in their own coun-
 
 ( 311 ) 
 
 try. It was chiefly through this channel that 
 the famous Florentine library was formed by 
 Cosmo and Laurence of Medici, and by the 
 dukes of Florence, their munificent succes- 
 sors. 
 
 Lilly, the famous grammarian, resided, 
 about the year 1500, during five years, in the 
 island of Rhodes. Hence, we aje informed by 
 Rhenanus, that he was not only acquainted 
 with the whole circle of Grecian authors, but 
 with the domestic life and familiar conversa r 
 tion of the Greeks. He was the first teacher 
 of Greek at any public school in England. 
 He was appointed head master of St. Paul's 
 school, in 1510, by dean Collet, the founder. 
 After his residence at Rhodes, he added an 
 .additional polish to his Latin stile at Rome, 
 untier Johannes Sulpicius, and Pomponius 
 jSabiuus ; and thus became one of the most ac- 
 complished scholars of his age. He died of 
 the plague in 1522. 
 
 This practice of visiting Italy and Greece 
 for instruction, was encouraged by some of 
 the bishops, though they had received their 
 education in the English universities. Pace, 
 one of our learned countrymen, and friend of 
 .Erasmus, was removed, while yet a boy, by
 
 ( 312 ) 
 
 Langton, bishop of Winchester, from the 
 school within the precincts* of his own palace 
 to the university of Padua. The same bishop 
 bequeathed by will to this his scholar, an ex- 
 hibition of ten pounds a year, for seven years, 
 to support him while studying at Bononia. 
 His instructors at Padua were Cuthbert Ton- 
 stal, afterwards bishop of Durham, and Hugh 
 Latimer. 
 
 Again, before the year 1520, Richard Croke, 
 one of the first restorers of the Greek language 
 in England, was educated at the expence of 
 archbishop Wareharu, at the universities of 
 Paris, Louyain, and Leipsic. He afterwards 
 succeeded Erasmus in the Greek professorship 
 at Cambridge. Croke published at Cologne,, 
 Introditctiones in Rudimenta Gr&ca, 1520, de- 
 dicated to his patron archbishop Warcham. 
 
 About this time, strong symptoms were ma- 
 nifested, that the mists of ancient prejudice 
 
 * It was customary in these early times, for the bishops to 
 educate in their families a number of youths, particularly the 
 sons of the nobles and of gen lemen. In the 13th century, Gros- 
 thetf, bishop of Lincoln, educated in this manner most of the 
 nobility in the kingdom. These youths were placed there in 
 Duality of pages : Fitios nobilium procerum regni, quos stcum A0- 
 buit domiccllos. Cardinal Wolsey likewise educated in his 
 house many of the young nobility.
 
 < 318 ) 
 
 vere clearing off. From the year 1503 to the 
 reformation, nearly twenty new grammar 
 schools were founded and endowed in Eng- 
 land a greater number than had heen esta- 
 blished for three centuries before. Among 
 these was cardinal Wplsey's school at Ips- 
 jvicli an institution which rivalled those of 
 Winchester and Eton. In addition to the 
 scholars, it consisted of a dean, twelve canons, 
 and a numerous choir. 
 
 As early as the year 1506, we find a lecturer 
 established at Christ's College, in Cambridge ; 
 who, together with logic and philosophy, is or* 
 dered to read vel ex poet arum, vel ex orato- 
 rum operibus. This was in the course of col- 
 legiate discipline. A more decisive instance 
 pf an attempt to depart from the ancient con- 
 tracted plan of education, occurs in the ap- 
 pointment of two professors for the Greek and 
 Latin languages, by Fox, bishop of Winches- 
 ter, on his founding of Corpus Christi Col- 
 lege, Oxford, in the year 1517- The Latin 
 professor is expressly directed to extirpate bar- 
 barism from the new society ; and his course 
 of lectures was not restricted to the limits of 
 the college, but open to the students of the 
 university in general. The Greek lecturei
 
 ( 314 > 
 
 was Instructed to explain the best Greek clas- 
 sics ; and the poets, historians, and orators 
 which are particularly mentioned, are among 
 the purest extant. 
 
 About the year 1519, was founded also at 
 Oxford, by cardinal Wolsey, a public lecture 
 in rhetoric and humanity. He soon after esta- 
 blished the first public chair in England for 
 the Greek language. Both of *these 'lectures 
 were endowed with ample salaries. Four or 
 five years afterwards, a public lecture for the 
 learned languages was opened at Cambridge, 
 i>y Robert Wakefield, at the instance of 
 Henry VIII. And it should be mentioned to 
 the honour of Robert Barnes, prier of the Au- 
 gustines, at Cambridge, that he, assisted by 
 his scholar, Thomas Parnell, explained Plautus, 
 Terence, and Cicero, within the precincts of 
 his own monastery. About the same time 
 also, Erasmus expounded at Cambridge the 
 grammar of Chrysolpras. Erasmus was ad- 
 mitted lady Margaret's professor, about 1511, 
 being the fourth from its foundation. Among 
 these early scholars also, bishop Fischer and sir 
 Thomas More hold a distinguished rank ; but 
 I shall have occasion to speak more particu- 
 larly of then* berea&er.
 
 ( 315 ) 
 
 But these bold attempts at improvement 
 did not pass without the most violent op- 
 position. The university of Oxford was rent 
 into factions, under the classical and hostile 
 appellations of Greeks and Trojans. The lat- 
 ter were the champions of the schools, and of 
 the old modes ; the former were the advocates 
 of the new plan of study ; who, unable to pre- 
 vail by persuasion and argument, were fre~ 
 quently urged to blows with their bigottcd 
 and obstinate antagonists. These absurd and 
 dishonourable contests, which the prowess of 
 the parties themselves was ineffectual to decide, 
 were at length appeased by the good sense, 
 and especially by the wit and ridicule, of sir 
 Thomas More*. 
 
 Attention now began to be paid to improve 
 the vernacular language. Erasmus particu- 
 larly mentions Collet, dean of St. Paul's, who, 
 with a view to adorn the stile of his dis- 
 courses, employed much time in the perusal 
 of Chaucer, Gower, Lydgate, and other Eng- 
 lish poets ; but students still visited Italy, to 
 give the' last polish to their Latin stile. This 
 combination of endeavours to introduce a li- 
 
 * See his Epistola Scholasticis qnibusdam Trojanvs se appel- 
 fantibus, published by Hcarne, 1716, 8vo.
 
 ( 316 ) 
 
 beral plan of education and study, was finally 
 crowned by the magnificent establishment of 
 Wolsey's College, now Christ Church, at Ox- 
 ford, to which were invited the most accom- 
 plished scholars in Europe, and for the libra- 
 ry of which were designed transcripts of all the 
 valuable MSS. of the Vatican. 
 
 Tbese auspicious beginnings, however, were 
 soon interrupted from several causes: 1. The 
 projected divorce of Henry VIII. from queen 
 Catharine, had the effect, for a time, of re- 
 plunging the literary world into all the idle 
 disputations of theologic subtlety and casuis- 
 tical refinement.- 2. The reformation, which, 
 though so fruitful in great and beneficent ef- 
 fects, was hostile to the cultivation of polite 
 learning, and to the formation of a just and 
 (elegant taste*. 3. The dissolution of the mo- 
 nasteries operated as a temporary check to the 
 progress of improvement. The monastic in- 
 stitutions, generally speaking, were the nurses 
 pf indolence and illiteracy, and the bulwarks 
 of a baleful superstition. Yet they afforded 
 Jeisure and opportunities for study, which, 
 though commonly neglected, were sometimes 
 
 * This topic the reader will find somewhat expanded at the 
 commencement of the second volume.
 
 ( 317 ) 
 
 employed to useful purposes. Many of the 
 abbots were learned men, of liberal views, and 
 hence patrons of learning. They appropriated 
 a portion of their superfluous revenues to the 
 education of youth, (particularly the sous of no- 
 blemen,) in their monasteries ; which were the 
 schools for all ths towns and villages in their vi- 
 cinity. And though the intellectual light which 
 these schools diffused, was merely a glimmer- 
 ing of knowledge, still it was better than total 
 night. When the monasteries were abolished, 
 learning was left without support; aiid the 
 youth, deprived of the hope of reward, re- 
 sorted to mechanical employments ; and pro- 
 vincial ignorance became universal. 
 
 'Still the reign of Henry VIII. was, upon the 
 whole, highly favourable to the progress of let- 
 ters. Henry united in his own .person the ri- 
 val claims of the houses of York and Lan- 
 caster, whose sanguinary contests had so long 
 deluged the kingdom with blood. These dis- 
 astrous struggles for power being thus at 
 in end, the arts and amusements of peace 
 began to revive, and this reign is justly consi- 
 dered as forming an important aera in literary 
 history. 
 
 In the year 1535, the king issued injunc-
 
 ( 318 ) 
 
 tions t'o the university of Cambridge^ for the 
 reformation of study. The dialecties of Ho-* 
 dolphus Agricola, the favorite of Erasmus, 
 and the logic of Aristotle, are prescribed to be 
 taught ; and the unedifying problems of Sco- 
 tus and Burlaeus abolished ; as likewise the 
 tedious commentaries on Peter Lombard's sen- 
 tences. Moreover, classical lectures were esta- 
 blished, and the books of Melancthon, with 
 other esteemed writers among the reformers 
 recommended. These improvements were 
 especially promoted, as we shall see hereafter, 
 by Cheke and Smith, who probably did more 
 than any other two individuals to secure the 
 establishment of ancient learning among us.
 
 vm.
 
 :< 321 ) 
 
 FROISSART. 
 
 SIR JOHN FROISSART was bom at Valeri* 
 ciennes, about 1337, and subsequently became 
 canon and treasurer of Chimay, in the diocese 
 of Liege, in Hainault. But he is chiefly known 
 to posterity by a general history of France ahd 
 Spain, with other parts of Europe, and parti- 
 cularly of England, from the year 1326, to 
 1400. Though born a Frenchman, he spent 
 the greater part of his youth in the court of 
 our Edward III. and many years after was fa- 
 miliarly conversant in that of Richard II. He 
 wrote in French, his native language, in his 
 time the court language of England. 
 
 His writings were much corrupted by tran- 
 scription ; and even the printed copies which 
 were taken on the introduction of printing* 
 were chargeable with equal and similar faults, 
 which consisted chiefly in names and numbers* 
 
 VOL. j. T
 
 322 FROISSAKT. 
 
 His work was translated into English by sir 
 John Bourchier, lord Berners, 'deputy of Ca- 
 lais, at the command of Henry VIII. and printed 
 by Pinson, in 1523. In this English edition, 
 many of the errors alluded to are corrected. 
 
 Froissart died about 1402, having ended his 
 life and his story almost at the same time. 
 
 The Author's Prologue. 
 Chap. I. 
 
 To the intent that the honourable and noble aven- 
 tures of feats of arms done and atchieved by the 
 wars of France and England, should notably be en- 
 registered and put in perpetual memory, whereby 
 tke prewe and hardy may have ensample to encou- 
 rage them in their well doing, I, sir John Froissart, 
 will treat and record a history of great loitage* and 
 praise. But or I begin, I require the Saviour of all 
 the World, wha of nothing created all things, that he 
 will give me such grace and understanding, that I 
 may contrive andpsew a in such wise, that whoso 
 this process reacleth or heareth may take pdfftnmce*, 
 pleasure, and ensample. It is said of truth, that all 
 
 1 lauange, praise. 2 persevere. * pastime.
 
 tROISSART. 323 
 
 buildings arc masoned and wrought of divers stones ; 
 and all great rivers are gurged 1 and assembled of di- 
 vers surges and springs of water. In likewise all 
 sciences are extraught* and compiled of divers 
 clerks. Of that one writethj another peradven- 
 ture is ignorant. But by the famous writing of 
 ancient authors, all things ben knowen in one place 
 or other. 
 
 Then to attain to the matter that I have enprized, 
 I will begin first, by the grace of God, and of the 
 blessed virgin, our lady, St. Mary, from whom all 
 comfort and consolation proceedeth; and will take 
 my foundation out of the Chronicles, sometime com- 
 piled by the right reverend, discreet, and sage master 
 John la Bele, sometime canon in SU Lanbartis, of 
 Liege, who with good heart and due diligence did 
 his true devoier in writing this noble Chronicle, and 
 did continue it all his life days, in following the 
 truth as near as he might, to his great charge smd 
 cost, in seeking to have the perfect knowledge 
 thereof. 
 
 He was also in his life days well-beloved, and of 
 the secret council with the lord sir John of Hainault, 
 who is often remembered (as reason requireth,) here- 
 after in this book : for of many fair and noble aven- 
 tures, he was chief causer ; and by whosd means the 
 said sir John la Bele, might well know and hear of 
 
 1 gorged. * extracted*
 
 3<24 . ' FROISSART. 
 
 many divers noble deeds, the which hereafter shall be 
 declared. Truth it is, that I who have enterprizetl 
 this book to ordain for pleasure and pastauncc, to 
 the which always I have been inclined, arid for that 
 intent I have followed and frequented the company 
 of divers noble and great lords, as well in France, 
 England, and Scotland, as in divers other countries, 
 and have had knowledge by them. And always to 
 my power justly have enquired for the truth of the 
 deeds of war, and aventures that have fallen ; and 
 specially since the great battle of Poitiers, whereas * 
 the noble king John of France was taken prisoner ; 
 as before that time I was but of a young age or under- 
 standing. Howbeit, I took on me as soon as I came 
 from school, to write and receive the said book, and 
 bare the same compiled into England, and presented 
 the volume thereof to my lady Philippa, of Hainault, 
 noble queen of England, who right amiably received 
 it, to my great profit and avancement. And it may 
 be so, that the same book is not as yet examined nor 
 corrected, so justly as such a case requireth : for 
 feats of arms dearly bought and atchieved, the ho- 
 nour thereof ought to b given and truly divided to 
 them that by prowess and hard travail have deserved 
 it. Therefore to acquit me in that behalf, and in 
 following the truth as near as I can, I John Frois- 
 sart, have enterprised this history, on the foresaid 
 
 1 whereat.
 
 FROISSART. 325 
 
 ordinance and true foundation, at the instance and 
 request of a dear lord of mine, sir Robert of Nainur, 
 knight, lord of Beaufort ; to whom entirely I owe 
 love and obeisance. And God grant me to do that 
 thing that may be to his pleasure. Amen. 
 
 Of the Manners of the. Scots in the \ 4tk century, parti- 
 cularly in War. Chap. If. 
 
 These Scotsmen are right hardy, and sore tra- 
 vailing in harness and in wars : for when they will 
 enter into England, within a day and a night, they 
 will drive their whole host twenty-four mile : for 
 they are all a horseback, without it be the truandals l 
 and laggered of the host, who follow after a 
 foot. The knights and squires are well horsed ; and 
 the common people and others on little hackneys 
 and geldings ; and they carry with them no carts 
 nor charytes* for the diversities of the mountains 
 that they must pass thro* in the county of Northum- 
 berland. They toke s with them no purveyance of 
 bread nor of wine : for their usage and soberness is 
 suQh in time of war, that they will pass in the 
 journey a great long time with flesh half sodden, 
 without bread, and drink of the river water, 
 without wine; and they nother* care for pots 
 
 ' truants, ^stragglers. 2 chariots. 'take. < neither.
 
 326 FROISSART. 
 
 nor pans: for they seeth beasts in their own 
 skins. They are ever sure to find plenty of 
 beasts in the county that they will pass thro', 
 therefore they carry with them none other pur- 
 veyance; but on their horse, between the sad- 
 dle and the pannel, they trusse 1 a broad plate of 
 metal, and behind the saddle, they will have 
 a little sack full of oatmeal, to the intent that 
 when they have ea.ten of the sodden flesh, then 
 they lay their plate on the fire, and temper a 
 little of the oatmeal; and when the plate is hot, 
 they cast off the thin paste thereon; and so 
 make a little cake, in manner of a crakenell, 
 or biscuit ; and that they eat to comfort withal 
 their stomachs. Wherefore it is no great mar- 
 vel though they make greater journeys than other 
 people do. 
 
 I 'would willingly have given amuch longer ex- 
 tract from Froissart, and one more characteristic 
 of his peculiar manner : but the literary world 
 is aware that a new translation of him was 
 given to the public, in 1805, by Mr. Thomas 
 Johnes, in which the names of persons and 
 
 1 thrust.
 
 FROISSART. 327 
 
 places, disfigured in the original, are cor- 
 rected. This ancient historian may now be 
 read with all the facility of a modern author, 
 as the ordinary reader is no longer repelled 
 either hy inconvenient bulk of volume, or 
 by antique peculiarities of language. For 
 this edition,* which is in four volumes 4to. se- 
 veral MSS. in the translator's own library, as 
 well as in the British Museum, were collated 
 with the printed copies ; many improved read- 
 ings adopted, and even some chapters added, 
 which were not in any of the printed editions. 
 Another edition was published last year, in 
 12 vols. 8vo. 
 
 Froissart was a well informed historian. That 
 period of English history of which he treats, is 
 much indebted to him. He spared no pains 
 in collecting his materials, and visited the 
 courts of princes, that he might avail himself 
 of the best sources of information, both by the 
 collection of memoirs, and by [the conversa- 
 tion of those who had the management of af- 
 fairs. He resided for a long time at the court 
 of the princess Philippa, daughter of the earl 
 of Hainault, and wife of Edward III. king of 
 England. His narrative is very copious, though 
 lively and interesting. He has been accused
 
 FROI6SART. 
 
 of being too partial to the English, and of be- 
 stowing upon them higher encomiums than on 
 the French, because the latter neglected to re- 
 ward his labours, whereas the former remu- 
 nerated him with a handsome salary. His ac-^ 
 count of the affairs of Edward III. and his un- 
 fortunate successor Richard II. is the fullest 
 and best extant. 
 
 His history has been abridged in Latin, by 
 Sleidan, the German historian , and political 
 writer, who complains in his preface, that 
 Froissart is too prolix, relating every particular 
 at full length; and that he is particularly 
 faulty in this respect in his descriptions of mi- 
 litary preparations, skirmishes, single combats, 
 storming of places, and the speeches and coiir 
 versations of princes. But it is this very pro- 
 lixity this minuteness of description, which 
 chiefly renders Froissart interesting to a mo- 
 dern reader. His principal historic facts, sim- 
 ply considered, may be read perhaps with equal 
 advantage, and with a much less expence of 
 time, in the compressed form of modern com- 
 pilations ; but here they are divested entirely 
 of the costume of the age. Froissart lived in 
 the age of chivalry ; had imbibed its senti-r 
 ments, was familiar with its manners 5 and
 
 FROISSART. 329 
 
 must nave been often an eye-witness of tilts 
 and tournaments the sportive images of those 
 real and terrible battles which he paints with 
 such romantic colouring. It is this quality 
 which made Caxton class him with the writers 
 of romance in the passage above quoted*. In 
 Froissart, then, we not only see the historic facts 
 in all their copiousness of detail, but blend- 
 ed with those peculiar sentiments and feel- 
 ings which characterised the times in which 
 he lived. Such works must be curious and 
 valuable, till the knowledge of past ages shall 
 cease to be an object of curiosity. 
 
 Notwithstanding the declaration of Sleidan, 
 that he has omitted nothing of moment, hi* 
 abridgment is by no means executed with 
 fairness and impartiality ; and he has been ac- 
 cordingly censured by Humphry Lluid, in th<j 
 following terms : Dum Gallico nomini nimium 
 javeret, Anglornm nolrilissima gesta ant si- 
 lentio preteritt, aut ab autore dissentiens, ali-> 
 ter quam a Froissardo scriptum est, literis com- 
 mendavif, 
 
 Froissart was also a poet, as well as an his- 
 torian. He is even said by Pasquier, in his 
 Rechcrches de la France, to have been the 
 
 * See page 245,
 
 330 FROISSART. 
 
 
 
 founder of a new species of poetry such as 
 the chant-royal, the ballad, the pastoral, and 
 the rondeau*. 
 
 * See Godwin's Life of Chaucer, 4to. Vol. II. p. 351.
 
 ( 331 ) 
 
 \ 
 
 FISCHER, 
 
 Bishop of Rochester. 
 
 THE fate of this celebrated prelate was inti-* 
 mately connected with that of sir Thomas 
 More, the subject of the succeeding article. 
 Both were alike the victims of the tyrannic 
 vengeance of Henry VIII. and martyrs to po- 
 pery. Bishop Fischer was born in 1459, and 
 was the son of a merchant of Beverly, in 
 Yorkshire. He received the rudiments of his 
 education under the tuition of a priest of the 
 collegiate church in that town ; and entered at 
 Cambridge, in 1484, where he took his de- 
 grees in arts in 1488, and 1491. He was ap- 
 pointed in 1495, one of the proctors of the 
 university, and elected master of Michael- 
 House, (now Trinity-College) his own college. 
 In 1501, he took the degree of doctor, and the
 
 332 FISCHER. 
 
 same year was elected chancellor of the uni- 
 versity; which, however, he resigned in 
 1514, recommending as his successor, Wolsey, 
 bishop of Lincoln, who was accordingly 
 chosen. But he thinking proper to declii^e the 
 honour, the university, indignant at his rejec- 
 tion, and bound in gratitude to Fischer, imme- 
 diately chose the latter perpetual chancellor, 
 or during life ; whicli is the first instance of 
 such a choice. 
 
 Prince Arthur, eldest son of Henry VII. was 
 at this time living ; and prince Henry, (after- 
 wards Henry VIII.) being designed for an ec- 
 clesiastic, was placed under the tuition of Fis- 
 cher, who hence became acquainted with Mar- 
 garet, the famous countess of Richmond, and 
 mother of Henry VII. His merit soon ob- 
 tained him the office of chaplain and confessor 
 to her ladyship, whose confidence in him was 
 unbounded. In 1504, he was promoted to the 
 see of Rochester; and though it was the least 
 valuable of the bishoprics at that time, he re- 
 fused, with a disinterested magnanimity, ever 
 to exchange it for a better. 
 
 On the 29th of June, 1509, death deprived 
 both him and the public of their noble bene- 
 factress, whose virtues and accomplishments
 
 FISCHER. 333 
 
 he celebrated in a funeral sermon. Three 
 years after, he was nominated to attend the 
 Lateran council at Rome, as appears by the ar- 
 chives of St. John's College, though from 
 some cause or other, he was prevented from un- 
 dertaking the journey. 
 
 It was in the year 1527 that Henry VIII. 
 first proposed to him the dangerous ques- 
 tion respecting the validity of his marriage 
 with queen Catharine; when the upright 
 bishop, in obedience to the dictates of tys 
 conscience, declared it to be legal in the 
 sight of God and man, and that from this 
 opinion he would never depart. Accordingly, 
 when the oath required by the act of supre- 
 macy was tendered to him, he refused to take 
 It, was sent, prisoner to the Tower, and his bi- 
 shopric declared void from the second of Ja- 
 nuary, 1535. 
 
 In May of the same year, and while he was 
 in the Tower, the pope, Paul III. in consi- 
 deration of his virtues, and of his faithful at- 
 tachment to the religion of Rome, created 
 him cardinal, by the title of cardinal priest of 
 St. Vitalis. The king, enraged at his receiving 
 the cardinal's hat, prohibited its being brought 
 to England ; exclaiming with facetious cru-
 
 334 FISCHEtt. 
 
 e lty " Well, let the pope send him a hafe 
 when he will; mother of God ! he shall wear it 
 on his shoulders then : for I will leave him ne^ 
 ver a head to set it on." He was beheaded on 
 the 22d of June, 1535, and the next day his 
 head was fixed upon London Bridge. 
 
 In his person, bishop Fischer was tall, 
 comely, and robust. For the superiority of 
 his talents as a scholar, as likewise for the 
 excellence of his moral character, when un- 
 influenced by superstitious bigotry, we have 
 the testimony of Erasmus ; who says of him 
 " That he was a man of the highest integri- 
 ty, profound learning, incredible sweetness of 
 temper, and 'uncommon greatness of soul." 
 The words of Erasmus are remarkable, and 
 deserve to be quoted. " Reverendus Episcopus 
 Roffemis, vir non solum mirabili integritate vita, 
 Tentm etiam alia et recondita doetrina, turn mo* 
 rum quoque incredibHi com/fate commendatus 
 maximis pariter ac minimis. Aut egregie Jailor, 
 aut is vir est units, cum quo nemo sit hac tempes- 
 tate conferendus, ret iniegritate vita;, vel erudi* 
 tione, vel animi magnitudine" 
 
 It is remarkable, that even in his old age, 
 his literary ardour urged him to learn Greek of 
 Erasmus.
 
 FISCHER. 335 
 
 But notwithstanding his virtues, and the go 
 neral benevolence of his character, the perse- 
 cuting and odious principles of his religion, 
 rendered him inhumanly severe against the re- 
 formers. In conjunction with his friend sir 
 Thomas More, he seized all the hooks of Lu- 
 theranism, as well as of the Lollards, punishing 
 with severity those in his diocese who followed 
 the errors, as he called them, of those arch-he- 
 retics, Wicliffe and Luther. 
 
 He was the author of various works, the 
 greater number of which are in Latin. 1, 
 Assertionum Martini Lutheri Confutatio. 2. 
 Defensio assertionis Henrici octav&de sepfem sa- 
 cramentis,fyc. Henry VIIT.'s book against Lu- 
 ther was ascribed, at the time, to the united 
 labours of Fischer and More, in conjunction 
 with Lea, afterwards archbishop of York ; and 
 sometimes to each of the two first sepa- 
 rately. Collycr, in his Ecclesiastical His- 
 tory, on the authority of lord Herbert, is 
 not of this opinion; but thinks that at the 
 request of the king, they might have looked 
 it over, and probably have suggested some 
 alterations; and that the bulk of the work 
 was composed by his majesty. 3. Episto-
 
 336 FISCHER. 
 
 la Responsoria Epistola Lutheri. 4. Sacerdctii 
 tlcfensio contra Lutherum. 5. Pro Damna- 
 tione Lutheri'. 6. De Veritate Corporis, et 
 Sarunanis Christi in Eucharistia, adversus Occo- 
 
 O 
 
 lampadium. 7. De Unica Magdalena. 8. Pe- 
 trmnfuisse Roma;. 
 
 His English works consist 1. of Sermons, of 
 which one was preached at the funeral of 
 Henry VII. ; and one at the funeral of Marga- 
 ret, countess of Richmond. The latter was re- 
 published in 1708, hy Thomas Baker, B. D. 
 Another of his sermons was preached at Lon- 
 don, on the day that Luther's writings were 
 publicly burnt. 2. He has also left several 
 smaller tracts on subjects of piety. Most of 
 these pieces were collected and printed in 
 1595, at Wnrzburg, in one volume folio. 
 
 I shall select as a specimen, the character of 
 the countess of Richmond, from his sermon at 
 her funeral. The text is Dixit Martha ad 
 Jesum ,- from which he takes occasion to run a 
 parallel between Martha and that celebrated 
 woman. The sermon presents a pleasing view 
 of the excellence of heart by which she was 
 animated, as likewise a curious picture of the 1 
 superstition of the times.
 
 FISCHEft. 337 
 
 First I say, the comparison of them two may be 
 made in four things : in nobleness of person ; in dis- 
 cipline of their bodies ; in ordering of their souls to 
 God ; in hospitalities keeping and charitable deal- 
 ing to their neighbours. In which four, the noble 
 woman Martha (as say the doctors, entreating this 
 gospel and her life,) was singularly to be commended 
 and praised ; wherefore let us consider likewise, whe- 
 ther in this noble countess may any thing like be 
 found. 
 
 First, the blessed Martha was a woman of noble 
 blood, to whom by inheritance belonged the castle 
 of Bethany ; and this nobleness of blood they have 
 which descended of noble lineage. Beside this, there 
 is a nobleness of manners, withouten which the no- 
 bleness of blood is much defaced: for as Boecius 
 saith, If ought be good in the nobleness of blood, it 
 is for that thereby the noble meu and women should 
 be ashamed to go out of kind, from the virtuous 
 manners of their ancestry before. Yet also there is 
 another nobleness, which ariseth in every person, by 
 the goodness of nature, whereby full often such as 
 come of right poor and unnoble father and mother, 
 have great abilities of nature to noble deeds. Above 
 all the same there is a four manner of nobleness, 
 which may be called an encreased nobleness, as by 
 marriage and affinity of more noble persons, such as 
 VOL. i. a;
 
 338 FISCHEIU 
 
 were of less condition, may increase in higher degree 
 of nobleness. 
 
 In every of these I suppose this countess was no- 
 ble. First she came of noble blood, lineally de- 
 scending of king Edward III. within the four degree 
 of the same. Her father was John, duke of Somer- 
 set; her mother was called Margaret, right noble as 
 well in manners as in blood, to whom she was a very 
 daughter in all noble manners : for she- was boun- 
 teous and liberal to every person of her knowledge 
 or acquaintance. Avarice and c&cetyse she most 
 hated, and sorrowed it full much in all persons, 
 but specially in any that belonged unto her. She 
 was also of singular easiness to be spoken unto, and 
 full curtarse* answer she would make to all that 
 came unto her. Of marvellous gentleness she was 
 Bnto all folks, but specially unto her own r whom, 
 she trusted and loved right tenderly. Unkind she 
 would not be unto no creature, ne forgetful of any 
 kindness or service done to her before ; which is no 
 little part of very nobleness. She was not vengeable 
 TIC cruel, but ready anon to forget and to forgive in- 
 juries done unto her, at the least desire or motion 
 made unto her for the same. Merciful also and pi- 
 teous she was unto such as was grieved and wrong- 
 fully troubled, and to them that were in poverty or 
 sickness, or any other misery. 
 
 / 
 1 courteous.
 
 FISCHER. 33d 
 
 To God and to the church full obedient and tract- 
 able, searching his honour and pleasure full busily. 
 A wareness of herself she had alway to eschew 
 every thing that might dishonest any noble woman, 
 or distain her honour in any condition. Frivolous 
 things that were little to be regarded, she would let 
 pass by, but the other that were of weight and sub- 
 stance, wherein she might profit, she would not let, 
 for any pain or labour, to take upon hand. These 
 and many other such noble conditions, left unto her 
 by her ancestors, she kept and increased therein 
 with a great diligence. 
 
 The third nobleness also she wanted not, which I 
 said was the nobleness of nature. She had in a 
 manner all that was praisable in a woman, ^either 
 in soul or body. First, she was of singular wisdom, 
 far passing the common rate of women. She was 
 good in remembrance and of holding memory ; a 
 ready wit she had also to conceive all things, albeit 
 they were right dark. Right studious she was in 
 books, which she had in great number, both in Eng- 
 lish and in French, and for her exercise and for the pro- 
 fit of others, she did translate divers matters of devo- 
 tion, out of the French into English. Full often she 
 complained that in her youth, she had not given her to 
 
 the understanding of Latin, wherein she had a little 
 
 
 perceiving, specially of the Rubryshc of the Ordinal, 
 
 fr the saying of her service, which she did well under-
 
 040 FISCHER. 
 
 stand. Hereunto in favour, in words, in gesture, in 
 every demeanor of herself, so great nobleness did ap- 
 pear, that what she spake or did, it marvellously 
 became her. 
 
 The four nobleness, which we named a nobleness 
 gotten or increased, she had also. For albeit, she 
 of her lineage were right noble, yet nevertheless by 
 marriage adjoining of other blood, it took some en- 
 creasement. For in her tender age, she being en- 
 dued with' so great towardness of nature, and likeli- 
 hood of inheritance, many sued to have had her to 
 marriage. The duke of Suffolk, which then was a 
 man of great experience, most diligently procured to 
 have had her for his son and heir. Of the contrary 
 part, king Henry VI. did make means for Edmund 
 his brother, then the earl of Richmond. She, which 
 as then was not fully nine years old, doubtful in her 
 mind what she were best to do, asked counsel of an 
 old gentlewoman, whom she much loved and trusted, 
 which did advise her to commend herself to St. Ni- 
 cholas, the patron and helper of all true maidens, 
 and to beseech him to put in her mind what she 
 were best to do ? This counsel she followed, and 
 made her prayer so full often, but specially that 
 night, -when she should the morrow after make an- 
 swer of her miud determinately. A marvellous 
 thing ! the same nigfit, as I have heard her tell many 
 a time, as she lay in prayer, calling upon St. Niclio-
 
 FISCHER. 341 
 
 las, whether sleeping or waking, she could not as- 
 sure, but about four of the clock in the morning, 
 one appeared unto her, arrayed like a bishop, and 
 naming unto her Edmund, bade take him unto her 
 husband. And so by this means she did incline her 
 mind unto Edmund, the king's brother, and earl of 
 llichmond, by whom she was made mother of the 
 king, that dead is, (whose soul God pardon,) and 
 grand-dame to our sovereign lord king Henry VIII. 
 which now, by the grace of God, governeth the 
 realm. So what by lineage, what by affinity, she 
 had thirty kings and queens within the four degree 
 of marriage unto her ; besides earls, marquisses, 
 dukes, and princes. And thus much we have spoken 
 of her nobleness. 
 
 ******** 
 
 Her sober temperance in meats and drinks was 
 known to all them that were conversant with 
 her, wherein she lay in as, great weight of her-r 
 self as any person might, keeping alway her strait 
 measure, and offending as little as any creature 
 might: eschewing banquets, rere-suppers* , juiceries 
 betwixt meals. As for fasting, for age and feeble- 
 ness, albeit she were not bound, yet those days 
 that by the church were appointed, she kept them 
 diligently and seriously, and in especial the holy 
 Lent throughout, that she restrained her appetite, till 
 one meal offish on the day ; besides her other peculiar 
 > late suppers.
 
 342 FISCHER. 
 
 fasts of devotion, as St. Anthony, St. Mary Mag- 
 dalene, St. Catharine, with other; and theroiveout 
 all the year, the Friday and Saturday she full truly 
 observed. As to hard clothes wearing, she had her 
 shirts and girdles of hair, which when she was in 
 health, every week she failed not certain days to 
 wear, sometime the one, sometime the other, that 
 full often her skin, as I heard her say, was 
 pierced therewith. As for chastity, though she al- 
 way continued not in her virginity, yet in her hus- 
 * band's days, long time before that he died, she ob- 
 tained of him license, and promised to live chaste, in 
 the hands of the reverend father, my lord of Lon- 
 don; which promise she renewed, after her hus- 
 band's death, into my hands again, whereby it may 
 appear the discipline of her body. 
 
 ******** 
 In prayer, every .day at her uprising, which 
 commonly was not long after five of the clock, she 
 began certain devotions, and so after them, with one 
 of her gentlewomen, the matins of our lady, which 
 kept her to* then she came into her closet, where 
 then with her chaplain, she said also matins of the 
 day ; and after that daily heard four or five masses 
 upon her knees ; so continuing in her prayers and de- 
 votions unto the hour of dinner, which of, the eating 
 day, was ten of the clock, and upon the fasting day 
 
 * There is an omission here.
 
 FISCHER. 34S 
 
 eleven. After Dinner full truly she would go her sta- 
 tions to tlr ee altars daily ; daily her dirges and com- 
 menrk-tions she would say, and her even songs before 
 supper, both of the day and of our lady, beside many 
 other prayers and psalters of David throughout the 
 year ; and at night before she went to bed, she fail- 
 ed not to resort unto her chapel, and there a large 
 quarter of an hour to occupy her devotions. No 
 marvel, though all this long time her kneeling was 
 to her painful, and so painful that many times it 
 caused in her back pain and disease. And yet never- 
 theless, daily when she was in health, she failed 
 not to say the crown of our lady, which after the 
 manner of Rome, containeth sixty and three aves, 
 and at every ave, to make a kneeling. As for medi- 
 tation, she had divers books in French, wherewith 
 she would occupy herself when she was weary of 
 prayer. Wherefore divers she did translate* out of the 
 French into English. Her marvellous weeping they 
 can bear witness of, which here before have heard 
 her confession, which be divers and many, and at 
 many seasons in the year, lightly every third day. 
 Can also record the same tho that were present at 
 any time when she was houshilde 1 , which was full 
 nigh a dozen times every year, what floods of tears 
 there issued forth of her eyes I She might well say, 
 
 * Among which was the Mirror of Gold. 
 Received the sacrament of the Lord's supper.
 
 344 FISCHER. 
 
 exitus aquarum deduxerunt oculi mei. A n d moreover 
 to the intent all her works might be more acceptable 
 and of greater merit in the sight of God, such godly 
 things she would take by obedience, which obedience 
 she promised to the forenamed father, my lord of 
 London, for the time of his being with her, and af- 
 terwards in likewise unto me; whereby it may appear 
 the diligent order of her soul to God. 
 
 The illustrious woman whose singular vir- 
 tues and weaknesses we have been contem- 
 plating, and which are so distinctive of the 
 age in which she lived, was a great benefactress 
 to the commonwealth of letters. Inspired by 
 her devotional and benevolent spirit, she first 
 instituted at Cambridge, in the 18th of Henry 
 VII. (her son), a perpetual public lecture in 
 divinity, of which bishop Fischer was appoint- 
 ed the first reader. This lecture was endow- 
 ed with twenty marks per annum, payable by 
 the abbot and convent of Westminster, which 
 house she had previously endowed with reve- 
 nues to the amount of 871. per annum. P'is- 
 cher was succeeded in the professorship by Dr. 
 Cosin, master of Benet ; he by William Bur-
 
 FISCHER. 345 
 
 goign, afterwards master of Peter-house ; and 
 the last by Erasmus. 
 
 The same year and day, lady Margaret 
 established a divinity-lecture at Oxford, with 
 the same salary, and under the same regula- 
 tions, to which John Roper, S. T. P. was no- 
 minated the first reader. 
 
 In the 20th year of the same reign (Oct. 
 30,) she established a perpetual public preach- 
 er at Cambridge, with a salary of 101. per an- 
 num, payable by the abbot and convent of 
 Westminster, who was required to preach at 
 least six sermons every year, at several 
 churches, specified in the foundation, within 
 the dioceses of London, Ely, and Lincoln. Of 
 this establishment, John Fawn, S. T. P. was 
 constituted the first preacher. 
 
 Having done thus much for the schools of 
 learning, her conscience seemed disposed to be 
 satisfied in this particular, and she began to 
 think seriously of providing, agreeably to the 
 superstition of the times, for the welfare of 
 her soul, by causing masses to be said, and 
 dirges to be chanted after her death, for its 
 eternal health and rest. She therefore intend- 
 ed her other charities for the religious house ar 
 Westminster, where her son had projected a
 
 546 FISCHER. 
 
 sumptuous chapel for his own interment, and 
 where she designed that her own remains 
 should be also deposited. But having com- 
 municated her intentions to bishop Fischer, 
 the great director of her charities/ he repre- 
 sented that the house at Westminster was al- 
 ready wealthy enough, being the richest in 
 England ; that the schools of learning were 
 poorly endowed, and the provisions for scho- 
 lars very few and small, and that colleges were 
 yet wanting towards their maintenance ; that 
 in such foundations she might serve two ends 
 at once the support of learning, and the en- 
 couragement of virtue and that hence she 
 would double both her charity and her re- 
 ward. 
 
 These representations, aided by the habitual 
 reverence of the countess for the opinion of 
 her confessor, had the desired effect. Still she 
 was under an engagement to her son, in re- 
 spect of their common designs at Westminster, 
 which her delicacy knew not how to break 
 with honour. This difficulty the good bishop 
 undertook to remove also ; and countenanced 
 by the letters of her ladyship, he negociated 
 with the king so dexterously, as to obtain his 
 consent for altering her design. Henry's let-
 
 r FISCHER* S47 
 
 ter to his mother for this purpose is still ex- 
 tant ; and as it exhibits that prince in a more 
 amiable light than marks his character in ge- 
 neral history, the reader will probably be gra- 
 tified with its perusal. 
 
 A Letter from the King to his Mother. 
 Ex Archivis Coll. Jo. 
 
 Madam, my most entirely well beloved lady and 
 
 mother, 
 
 I recommend me unto you in the most humble 
 and lauly 1 wise that I can, beseeching you of your 
 daily and continual blessings. By your confessor, 
 the bearer, I have received your good and most 
 loving writing, and by the same have heard at good 
 leisure, such credence as he would shew unto me on 
 your behalf, and thereupon have sped him in every 
 behalf without delay, according to your noble pe- 
 tition and desire, which resteth in two principal 
 points : the one for a general pardon for all manner 
 causes ; the other is for to alter and change part of 
 a license which I had given unto you before, for to be 
 put into mortmain at Westminster, and now to be 
 converted into the university of Cambridge, tor your 
 soul's health, &c. All which things, according to 
 
 1 lowly.
 
 348 FISCHER. 
 
 your desire and pleasure, I have with all my heart 
 and good will given and granted unto you. And my 
 dame, not only in this, but in all other things, that 
 I may know, should be to your honour and pleasure, 
 and weal of your salle ', 1 shall be as glad to please 
 you as your heart can desire it; and I know well 
 that I am as much bounden so to do, as any creature 
 living, for the great and singular motherly love and 
 affection that it hath pleased you at all times to bear 
 towards me ; wherefore mine own most loving mo- 
 ther,, in my most hearty manner, I thank you, be- 
 seeching you of your good continuance in the same. 
 
 And, madam, your said confessor hath more- 
 over shewn unto me, on your behalf, that ye of your 
 goodness and kind disposition, have given and grank 
 ed unto me, such title and interest as ye have, or 
 ought to have, in such debts and duties, which is 
 owing and due unto you in France, by the French 
 king and others, wherefore, madam, in my most 
 hearty and humble wise, I thank you. llowbeit, I 
 verily [think] it will be jght hard to recover it, 
 \vithout it be driven by compulsion and force, rather 
 than by any true justice, which is not yet, as we 
 think, any convenient time to be put in execution. 
 Nevertheless it hath pleased you to give us a good 
 interest and mean, if "they would not conform them 
 to reason and good justice, to defend or offend at a 
 
 i saul.
 
 FISCHER. 349 
 
 convenient time when the case shall so require 
 hereafter : for such a chance may fall, that this poor 
 grant might stand in great stead for the recovery of 
 our right, and to make us free, whereas we be now 
 bound. And verily, , madam, an I might recover 
 it at this time or any other, ye be sure ye should 
 have your pleasure therein, as I, and all that God 
 has given me, is, and shall ever [be] at your will and 
 commandment, as I have instructed master Fischer 
 more largely herein, as I doubt not but he will de- 
 clare unto you. And 1 beseech you to send me your 
 mind and pleasure in the same, which I shall be full 
 glad to follow, with God's grace, which send and give 
 unto you the full accomplishment of all your noble 
 and virtupus desires. Written at Greenwich, the 
 17th day of July, with the hand of your most hum- 
 ble and, loving son. 
 
 II. R. 
 
 After the writing of this letter, your confessor 
 delivered unto me such letters and writings obliga- 
 tory of your duties in France, which it hath pleased 
 you to send unto'me, which I have received by an 
 indenture of every parcel of the same. Wherefore 
 fftsoons in my most humble wise I thank you, and 
 purpose hereafter at better leisure, to know your 
 mind and pleasure further therein. 
 
 jNJadam, I have encumbered you now with this my
 
 3.50 FISCHER. 
 
 long writings, but methink that I can do no less, 
 considering that it is so selden that I do write. 
 Wherefore, I beseech you to pardon me, for verily, 
 madam, my sight is nothing so perfect as it has 
 ben, and I know well it will appair l daily, wherefore, 
 I trust that you will not be displeased, though I write 
 not so often with my own hand, for on my faith I 
 have ben three days or I could make an end of this 
 letter. 
 
 To my Lady. 
 
 These proceedings gave birth to the founda- 
 tion of Christ's College, Cambridge, in the 
 year 1505-6, to which Fischer was appointed, 
 after herself, visitor for life. The first master 
 of this college, was John Syclyng, who was to 
 shew his obedience to the foundress's statutes, 
 (as expressed in his original obligation,) " by 
 not procuring or causing to be procured, or not 
 using, being procured, any dispensations from 
 the apostolic see ; or (as much as in him was,) 
 not suffering his fellows to make use of them." 
 This instrument bears date September 5th, 22d 
 of, Henry VII. 
 
 About this time the lady Margaret was 
 strongly solicited by some respectable members 
 
 I i 
 
 impair.
 
 FISCHER. 351 
 
 of Oxford, to confer her remaining charities 
 upon that university ; who pointed out to her 
 St. Frideswid's priory, (which occupied the 
 site of the present Christ Church,) as a proper 
 field for her munificent donations. But bishop 
 Fischer called her attention again to Cambrige ; 
 and St. Frideswid was left to adorn the me- 
 mory of cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 The old house of St. John, at Cambridge, 
 presents a striking instance of the dissolute 
 extravagance of some of the ancient monaste- 
 ries. When the ordinary revenues of this house 
 became inadequate to its prodigal expendi-, 
 ture, the moveables were either pawned or 
 sold, and even the sacred vessels incurred the 
 profanation of being exposed to sale. These 
 resources were soon at an end. Many of the 
 lands were then alienated, the rest mortgaged, 
 and at length, its funds exhausted and its credit 
 lost, the master and tJrethren were obliged to 
 disperse, and the house was abandoned. In 
 this state of things bishop Fischer conceived 
 that it would be more for the interests of reli- 
 gion and of learning, that it should be dis- 
 solved by royal authority, and that a college 
 of secular students should be engrafted upon 
 the old stock, in the hope that it might pro-
 
 352 FISCHER. 
 
 duce better fruit. He succeeded in interesting 
 his noble patroness in his design, and St* 
 'John's college was projected; but before the 
 royal license could be obtained for this pur- 
 pose, his majesty died, and not long after 
 lady Margaret herself. The execution of the 
 design, however, was left in the hands of 
 trustees, of which Fischer was the chief; but 
 the institution was postponed for some time, 
 from various causes. Henry VIII. cast an 
 eye of cupidity upon the lands bequeathed by 
 his grandmother for the foundation; .Stanley, 
 bishop of Ely, the diocesan, now opposed the 
 dissolution of the old house, from a tenderness 
 and fellow-feeling for the infirmities of his bre- 
 thren; it was nevertheless dissolved January 20, 
 15 10, by a bull from Julius II. which condescend- 
 ed to notice neither the authority of the king, 
 nor of the bishop of Ely. The charter was grant- 
 ed in April of the year following, for the esta- 
 blishment of a college, Unius magistri, soci- 
 onun et scliolarium ad numerum quinquagiiita 
 secularium personarum, vel circa, in scientiis 
 liberalibus, et sacra theologid studentium et ora- 
 turorum. 
 
 The revenues appropriated by lady Mar- 
 garet's will, for the maintenance of this col-
 
 353 
 
 lege, amounted to 4001. per annum a very large! 
 sum in those days. But the executors were 
 soon compelled to resign all the lands to the 
 rapacity of the king ; and the society must 
 have been again dissolved, or at least much 
 reduced its establishment, if Fischer had not 
 luckily found some trifling compensation iii 
 the revenues of a small dissolved house at 
 Ospring, in Kent. These amounted, indeed, 
 to no more than 70l. a year ; but which, with 
 a few other inconsiderable helps, proved suf- 
 ficient, under good management, to continue 
 the college on its original plan. 
 
 Collegians of the present day will wonder 
 how so large a society, consisting chiefly of 
 fellows, (for at first there were few scholars,) 
 could be supported upon such a ^slender in- 
 come. But when they are told that only twelve 
 pence per week was allowed in commons to a 
 fellow, and but seven pence to a scholar ; that 
 1201. was enough to found a fellowship; and 
 that 61. per annum sufficed for the maintenance 
 of a fellow their astonishment will cease. Its 
 revenues were soon greatly improved by the 
 assiduous attention and prudent management 
 of Robert Shoreton , the first master . This college 
 distinguished itself for its zeal and spirit during 
 
 VOL. i. A a
 
 FISCHER. 
 
 the reformation; and more ministers were 
 ejected from it than from any other society in 
 the university an effect very different from 
 what the foundress and her good confessor had 
 designed to produce. 
 
 The following lines, composed probably by 
 a monk of Westminster, were found deposited 
 among other documents, in the foundress's 
 chest at St. John's College ; and as they con- 
 tain an accurate, though succinct account of her 
 foundations, it may be worth while to give 
 them a place : 
 
 Carmen Phaledum Hendecasyllabwn, 
 
 Hie ilia est sita Margareta Gnato 
 Henrico inclyta septimo, nepote 
 
 rComitissa Richmondae 
 Octavo <Comes alta Richmondae 
 
 CRichmondiana Rectrix. 
 Censum contulit annuum duobus 
 Qui docti sophiam sacram explicarent 
 Ille Oxonibus, ille Cantabrigis ; 
 His Collegia bina struxit, ambo 
 Quae * centum foveaut decemq ; alumnos. 
 Doctorem instituit rudi popello, 
 Qui Christum sine fine buccinetur. 
 
 * Sixty at Christ's College, and fifty at St. John's.
 
 FISCHEE. 355 
 
 Roynborni aere suo, novara tenellae 
 Pubi, grararnatices ,scholam paravit. 
 Demum* hie tres monachos alit benigna, 
 His ac talibus ilia viva factis, 
 Fortunam superavit eminentem. 
 
 I conceive that these few particulars relative 
 to the foundations of the lady Margaret, are 
 not misplaced, since they are obviously con- 
 nected with the learning of the period, and 
 with the biography of bishop Fischer, with- 
 out whose wise direction, the good intentions 
 of that lady might have evaporated in a selfish 
 piety, or at best in a vague benevolence. 
 The reader may now judge of the validity of his 
 title to be ranked among the first and most ac- 
 tive restorers of ancient learning in Englandf. 
 
 * At Westminster. 
 
 f This account is abstracted from the preface to his sermon, 
 at lady Margaret's funeral ; and which was compiled by the 
 ditor from original documents reposited among the archives 
 of St. John's College, Cambridge. The book, I apprehend, is 
 scarce ; I met with it by accident, after having searched for it 
 in vaia.
 
 ( 356 
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE, 
 
 Chancellor of England, 
 
 BORN in London in 1480, was son of sir 
 John More, knight, one of the judges of 
 King's Bench. He received the first part 
 of his education at St. Anthony's, Thread- 
 needle-street, and was afterwards admitted 
 into the family of cardinal Morton, arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, who was accustom- 
 ed to say of him to his guests " This boy 
 who waits at table, whoever lives to see it, 
 will prove a marvellous man." In 1497, he 
 entered at Oxford, where he continued two 
 years, and thn, being designed for the law, 
 removed to New Inn, London; and soon af- 
 ter, to Lincoln's Inn, of which his father was 
 a member. 
 
 About the age of twenty, he became dis- 
 gusted with the law, ami shut himself up, dur- 
 ing four years, in the Charter-house, devoting
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 35? 
 
 himself exclusively to the services of reli- 
 gion. At this period he was so higotted to 
 monkish superstitions, and monkish disci- 
 pline, that, like lady Margaret, he wore a 
 hair-shirt next his skin, (which he is said 
 never afterwards to have wholly laid aside,) 
 fasted often, and not unfrequently slept on a 
 bare plank. He had a strong inclination to 
 take orders, and even to turn Franciscan ; but 
 was over-ruled by his father, whose authori- 
 ty was moreover reinforced by the amorous 
 propensities of the son, which were not to be 
 subdued even by the austerities of the cloister. 
 Accordingly he married Jane, eldest daughter 
 of John Colt, esq. of New-hall, Essex. About 
 this period, too, he was appointed law reader at 
 Furnival's Inn, which he held for three years ; 
 and besides, read a public lecture in the church 
 of St. Laurence, Old Jewry, upon St. Austin's 
 treatise De Civitate Del. 
 
 At the age of two and twenty, he was elect- 
 ed member of the parliament called by Henry 
 VII, in 1503, to demand a subsidy and nine 
 fifteenths, for the marriage of Margaret, his 
 eldest daughter, to James, king of Scotland. 
 More opposed this demand with such force 
 of argument, that it was finally rejected by the
 
 358 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 house. In 1508, he was made judge of the 
 Sheriff's Court ; also a justice of the peace, 
 and became eminent at the bar. In 1516, -he 
 went to Flanders, in the retinue of bishop 
 Tonstal and doctor Knight, who were sent by 
 Henry to renew the alliance with the archduke 
 of Austria, afterwards Charles V. On his re- 
 turn he was offered a pension by cardinal Wol- 
 sey, which, however, he thought proper to re- 
 fuse ; though soon after accepted of the king, 
 the place of master of the requests. About 
 this time also his majesty conferred on him the 
 honour of knighthood, appointed him one of 
 his privy council, and admitted him to the 
 greatest personal familiarity. In 1520, he was 
 made treasurer of the exchequer ; and about 
 the same period built a house at Chelsea, on 
 the banks of the Thames ; and being now a 
 widower, married a second wife. In 1523, a 
 parliament being summoned to raise money for 
 a war with France, he was elected speaker of 
 the house of commons ; and in this character 
 opposed, with great firmness, and with equal 
 success, an oppressive subsidy demanded by 
 the minister, cardinal Wolsey. He was sent, 
 in 1526, with cardinal Wolsey and others, on 
 a joint embassy to France; and in 1528, was
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 359 
 
 made chancellor of the duchy of Lancaster. 
 On the following year, his majesty appointed 
 him, together with Tonstal, bishop of Durham, 
 ambassadors, to negociate a peace between the 
 emperor, Henry, and the king of France ; and 
 in the peace hence resulting, concluded at 
 Cambray, he obtained for the kingdom ad- 
 vantages so far beyond what had been expect- 
 ed, that the king, on the disgrace of cardinal 
 Wolsey, gave him the great seal on the 25th 
 of October of the same year ; and it is re- 
 markable, that he was the first layman who had 
 ever obtained that honour. But perceiving, 
 from the measures pursued, by the king in re- 
 spect of his divorce from queen Catharine, 
 that a final rupture with Rome would be ine- 
 vitable, and that himself, from his office, must 
 be entangled in the contest, he resigned the 
 seal, after having sustained his high dignity 
 only two years and a half. On the passing 
 of the act of supremacy,' in 1534, he refused 
 to take the required oath, and he died on the 
 block, a martyr to Catholicism, on the 5th of 
 July, 1535. 
 
 Sir Thomas retained his hilarity, and even 
 his habitual facetiousness, to the last; and made 
 a sacrifice of his life to his integrity, with all
 
 360 SJK THOMAS MORE. 
 
 the indifference he would have shewn in an 
 ordinary affair. " Nothing is wanting (says 
 Hume) to the glory of this end, but a better 
 cause, more free from weakness and supersti- 
 tion. But as the man followed his principles 
 and sense of duty, however misguided, his con- 
 stancy and integrity are not the less objects of 
 our admiration." The folio wing couplet, which 
 is attributed to him, will serve to indicate the 
 habitual state of mind, which enabled him to 
 meet his fate with a fortitude so admirable : 
 
 If evils come, then our fears are vain ; 
 And if they do, fear but augments the pain. 
 
 A large portion of the writings of sir Tho- 
 mas More are in Latin, of which a collection 
 in folio was published at Basil, in 1566 ; and 
 the year following, at Louvain. Among this 
 number is his Eutopia, his most celebrated 
 work, which was written in 1516, and first 
 published at Basil in 1518; at least this is the 
 first edition of which we have any account. 
 From this book it appears that in the early- 
 part of his life he was a free thinker, though 
 he was subsequently devoted to catholic prin- 
 ciples. It was composed during the greatest 
 hurry of his professional business; and at this
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. S6l 
 
 period he stole time from his sleep, to pursue 
 his studies. 
 
 The Eutopia was translated into several lan- 
 guages, and added greatly to the fame of his 
 talents. A translation of it in English appear- 
 ed in l64, by Ralph Robinson ; and in 1683, 
 by bishop Burnet, with a preface concerning 
 the nature of translations. 
 
 The age of More was the age of disco- 
 veries ; and his Eutopia was taken by the learn- 
 ed Budaeus and others, for true history. They 
 thought it expedient, that missionaries should 
 be sent out to convert so wise a people to 
 Christianity. 
 
 It has been already noticed, in the preced- 
 ing article, as a prevalent opinion at the time, 
 that sir Thomas assisted the king in the com- 
 position of his celebrated book against Martin 
 Luther, by which he obtained the title of 
 " Defender of the Faith ;" and it is certain that 
 the king afterwards charged him with having 
 been the cause of its being written. But the 
 charge appears to be ill founded ; though it is 
 affirmed on good authority, that the book was 
 methodized by More. It was entitled, slsser- 
 tio Septem Sacramentorum, adversus Martinum 
 Luther urn, $c. and published in 1521. Luther,
 
 362 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 in his reply, regardless of' the rank of his royal 
 antagonist, treated it with the utmost contempt 
 and ridicule. This drew from More his Re- 
 sponsio ad Convitia M. Lutheri congesta in Hen- 
 ricum Regem Anglia. Of this hook it was said, 
 that its author had the best knack of any man 
 in Europe, at calling had names in good 
 Latin. 
 
 His other Latin works need not he particu- 
 larly mentioned. They consist of 1. Lucubra- 
 tiones, published at Basil, 1563, 8vo. 2. Pre- 
 cationes, ex P salmis. 3. Epist. ad Academ. 
 Oxon.4. Epistola, Land. 1642, folio, &c. 
 
 The English writings of sir Thomas More 
 are polemical and historical ; from both of 
 which it will be proper to give a copious ex- 
 tract, as he is the first writer of eminence, sub- 
 sequent to the revival of letters, who conde- 
 scended to give much attention to the culture 
 of his native language. To this he was proba- 
 bly induced, in the first instance, not by a di- 
 rect intention of improving his own tongue, 
 but by motives similar to those which actuated 
 Wicliffe that he might give greater popula- 
 rity to his peculiar theological opinions. 
 More was the redoubted champion of the ca- 
 tholics.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 363" 
 
 1. " A Dialogue of sir Thomas More, knight, 
 one of the council of our sovereign lord the 
 king, and chancellor of his duchy of Lancas- 
 ter. Wherein be treated divers matters ; as of 
 the veneration and worship of images and 
 relics, praying to saints, and going on pilgrim- 
 age ; with many other things touching the 
 pestilent sect of Luther and Tyndale ; by the 
 tone begun in Saxony, and by the tothcr 
 laboured to be brought into England ; newly 
 overseen by the said sir Thomas More, chan- 
 cellor of England, 1530." 
 
 This Dialogue is supposed to take place be- 
 tween sir Thomas, and the tutor of the chil- 
 dren of his friend, who had dispatched him 
 to More, with a letter of credence, with the 
 express purpose that they should discuss in 
 conversation the various points contested be- 
 tween the Catholics and Lutherans. 
 
 The following extract forms the first chapter 
 of the fourth book. 
 
 When we had after dinner a little paused, your 
 friend and I drew ourself aside into the garden. 
 And there sitting down in an arbour, he began to 
 enter forth into the matter, saying, that he had well 
 perceived, that not in his country only, but also in
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 the university where he had been, there were that 
 had none ill opinion of Luther ; but thought that 
 his books were, by the clergy, forboden 1 of malice 
 and evil will, to the end that folks should not surely 
 see, and perfectly perceive what he saith, or at the 
 least, what thing he meaneth by his words ; which 
 will not appear they think by a line taken out in the 
 wyddys? of a leaf, but by the diligent consideration of 
 the whole matter. Without which men might im- 
 pute a wrong blame, they say, to the best writers 
 that ever wrote in this world. But they think that 
 the clergy will not have his books read, because that 
 in them laymen may read the priests' faults, which 
 was, they say, the very cause of the condemnation. 
 For else, whether he had written well or evil, yet 
 they say his books had been kept in men's hands and 
 read. For there is, they think, therein, though 
 some part were nought, many things yet well said; 
 whereof there was no reason that men should Icse 
 the profit for the bad. And also reason men think 
 it were, that all were heard, that can be said touch- 
 ing the truth to be knowen, concerning the matters 
 of our salvation, to the intent that all heard and 
 perceived, men may, for their own surety, the better 
 chese and hold the right way. 
 
 Forsooth, quod I, if it were now doubtful and 
 ambiguous whether the church of Christ were in the 
 
 1 forbidden, midst.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 365 
 
 right rule of doctrine or not, then were it very ne- 
 cessary to give them all good audience that could 
 and would any thing dispute, on either party, for it 
 or against it, to the end that if we were now in a 
 wrong way, we might leave it and walk in some better. 
 But now, on the other side, if it so be, as indeed it 
 is, that Christ's church hath the true doctrine al- 
 ready, and the self same, that St. Paul would not 
 give an angel of heaven audience to the contrary ; 
 what wisdom were it now therein to shew ourself 
 so mistrustful and wavering, that for to search whe- 
 ther our faith were false or true, we should give 
 hearing not to an angel of heaven, but to a fond 
 friar; to an apostate; to an open incestuous lecher; 
 a plain limb of the devil ; and a manifest messenger 
 of hell. In which words, if ye would haply 
 think that I use myself too sore, to call him by such 
 odious names, ye must consider that he spareth not, 
 both untruly, and without necessity, in his railing 
 books, to call by as evil, them whom his duty were 
 highly to reverence ; whereas I do, between us twain, 
 call him but as himself hath shewed him in his writ- 
 ing, in his living, and in his mad, marriage. And 
 yet I neither do it, nor would, were it not that the 
 matter self of reason doth require it. For my part 
 is it. of necessity, to tell how nought he is ; because 
 that the worse the man is, the more madness were it 
 for wise men to give his false fables hearkening,
 
 366 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 against God's undoubted truth, by his holy spirit 
 taught unto his church, and by such multitude of 
 miracles ; by so much blood of holy martyrs; by the 
 virtuous living of so many blessed confessors; by the 
 purity and cleanness of so many chaste widows and 
 undefouled virgins ; by the wholsome doctrine of so 
 many holy doctors ; and finally, by the whole consent 
 and agreement of all Christian people this fifteen hun- 
 dred years confirmed. And, therefore, not any respect 
 unto his railing against the clergy is, as some would 
 have it seem, the cause of his condemnation and 
 suppression of his books : for the good men of the 
 clergy be not so sore grieved with them that touch 
 the faults of the bad, nor the bad themself be not 
 so tender-eared, that for the only talking of their 
 faults, they would banish the books that were good in 
 other things beside: for else could not the books of 
 many old holy fathers have endured so long, wherein 
 the vices of them that in the clergy be nought, be 
 very vehemently rebuked. But the very cause why 
 his books be not suffered to be read is, because his 
 heresies be so many and so abominable, and the 
 proofs wherewith he pretendeth to make them pro- 
 bable, be so far from reason and truth, and so far 
 against the right understanding of holy scripture, 
 whereof, under colour of great zeal and affection, he 
 laboureth to destroy the credence and good use, and 
 finally so far stretcheth all thing against good man-
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 367 
 
 ner and virtue, provoking the world to wrong opi- 
 nions of God, and boldness in sin and wretchedness, 
 that there can no good, but much harm, grow by the 
 reading. For if there were the substance good, and 
 of error or oversight some cockle among the corn, 
 which might be sifted out, and the remnant stand in- 
 stead, men would have been content therewith, as 
 they be with such other. But now is his not be- 
 sprent with a few spots, but with more than half 
 venom poisoned the whole wine, and that right roten 
 of itself. And this done of purpose and malice, not 
 without an evil spirit in such wise walking with his 
 words, that the contagion thereof were likely to in- 
 fect a feeble soul, as the savour of a sickness sore in- 
 fecteth a whole body. Nor the truth is not to be 
 learned of every man's mouth : for as Christ was 
 not content that the devil should call him God's 
 son, though it were true, so is he not content a de- 
 vil's limb, as Luther is, or Tyndale, should teach his 
 flock the truth, for infecting them with their false de- 
 vilish heresies besides. For likewise as the holy scrip- 
 ture of God, because of the good spirit that made it, 
 is of his own nature apt to purge and amend the 
 reader, though some that read it, of their invincible 
 malice, turn it to their harm ; so do such writings 
 as Luther's is, in the making whereof the devil is of 
 council, and giveth therewith a breath of his as- 
 sistance, though the goodness Of some men master
 
 3G8 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 the malice thereof, walking harmless with God'a 
 help, as the prophet saith, upon the serpent and the 
 cockatrice, and treading upon the lion and the dra- 
 gon ; yet be such works of themselves always right 
 imwholsome to meddle with, mete and apt to corrupt 
 and infect the reader. For the proof whereof we need 
 none other example than this that we be in hand 
 with all, if we consider what good the reading of his 
 books h'ath done in Saxony. And this find we more 
 than too much proved here among us, that of ten 
 that use to read his books, ye shall scantly find 
 twain but that they not only cast off pra} r er and fast- 
 ing, and all such godly virtues as holy scripture 
 commendeth, and the church commandeth, and vir- 
 tuous people have ever had in great price, but also 
 fall in plain contempt and hatred thereof. So that 
 what fruit should grow of the reading, ye may soon 
 guess. 
 
 In the third chapter of the same book, the 
 author canvasses the motives of Luther. 
 
 Now that is somewhat worth to consider, how 
 this lewd friar began to fall in the mischievous mat- 
 ters. We shall understand that there was a jiardon, 
 as the manner is there, Luther was the preacher, 
 and preached to the people, exhorting them thereto,
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE* 369 
 
 and avancing the authority thereof all that he 
 possible might, not without his great advantage 
 therefore. So happed it, that soon after that the 
 setting forth of the pardon with the advantage 
 thereof was taken from him and set to another. 
 For anger whereof he fell into such a fury, that forth- 
 with he began to write against all pardons* How- 
 beit, because the matter was new and strange, he 
 began first by way of doubts and questions only, sub- 
 mitting himself and his writing to the judgment of 
 the pope, and desiring to be enformed of the truth. 
 Whereupon, when he was by writing answered by the 
 master of the pope's palace, then waxed he more wood l , 
 and fell to railing against him, and made also another 
 book against the power of the pope, affirming, that his 
 power upon the church was never institute of God, 
 but ordained only by the common consent of Christian 
 people, for avoiding of schisms. But yet he said 
 that all Christian men were bounden to stand and 
 obey thereunto, and that the Bohemes were damna- 
 ble heretics for doing the contrary. But soon after, 
 when he was in such wise answered by good and 
 cunning men, that he perceived himself unable to 
 defend that he had affirmed, then fell he from reason- 
 ing to railing, and utterly denied that he had before 
 affirmed. And than began to write that the pope 
 
 ' wrath. 
 VOL. I. B b
 
 370 SIR THOMAS'MORE. 
 
 had no power at all, neither by God nor man. And 
 that the Bohemes, whom he had in his writings be- 
 fore called damnable heretics, were good Christians, and 
 all their opinions good and catholic. Then when he 
 was cited by the pope's holiness to appear, he ap- 
 pealed to the next general council, which should be 
 gathered in the Holy Ghost. So that whatsoever 
 general council were after assembled, he might jest and 
 rail thereon, and say that was not that that he appeal- 
 ed unto : for that was not assembled in the Holy Ghost. 
 
 He took, (quod your friend,) a good wily way. 
 
 As wily as it was, (quod I,) yet would he not 
 stand thereby, but fled from that to another. Now 
 shall ye understand, that yet soon after this, in the 
 book be which he not answereth, but raileth against 
 that book wherein our sovereign lord the king, like 
 a most faithful, virtuous, and most erudite prince, evi- 
 dently and effectually revinced and confuted the most 
 venomous and pestilent book of Luther, entitled, The 
 Captivity of Babylon, in which he laboured to de- 
 stroy the holy sacraments of Christ's church. In 
 that book, 1 say, Luther, which had before appealed to 
 the next general council, utterly denieth the autho- 
 rity of all general councils, and setteth them all at 
 no weight. 
 
 By my troth, (quod your friend,) either was the man 
 very negligent before, or very naught after, when he 
 thangeth so often, andwriteth ever thelonger the more
 
 SIR THOMAS MOR. 371 
 
 Contrary, not to his adversary only, but also to himself. 
 But I pray you how excuseth he his inconstancy ? 
 
 Marry, (quod ,I)he saith, that he seeth farther than 
 he saw before. Whereunto the king's grace sheweth 
 him that it were unlikely that he should see better 
 through a pair of evil spectacles of ire and envy. 
 
 Very true, (quod your friend,) by my troth. But 
 yet I hear say that he hath offered to stand at the 
 judgment of learned men in all his matters, if his of- 
 fer had ben taken in time. 
 
 Indeed, (quod I,) once he promised to stand to the 
 judgment of the university of Paris, and thereupon 
 was there open disputations kept, and the veiy 
 words written by notaries sworn for both the parties. 
 But when his opinions were after, at Paris^ by the 
 university condemned, then he refused to stand to 
 their judgment, and fell again to his old craft of rail- 
 ing. He appeared also at Worms, before the em- 
 peror and the princes of the empire, by a safe con- 
 duct. And there recognised and knowledged, as well 
 the said pestilent book written against the sacra- 
 ments, as many other of like sort to be his own, and 
 offered to abide by them. Which he might boldly 
 do, being by the safe conduct in good surety of him- 
 self that he could take none harm, Then was he 
 moved to disputations upon the articles, so that he 
 should agree upon some persons virtuous and weH 
 learned, that should be judges of that disputations.
 
 372 SIR THOMAS MORfi. 
 
 and that he should be content to stand to their judg* 
 ment upon the same. Whereupon he agreed [to 
 come to disputations, but he would in no wise agree 
 to make any men living judges upon that, nor stand to 
 no man's judgment earthly. 
 
 This dialogue of the worship of images, &c. 
 was replied to byTyndale ; which called forth 
 2. sir Thomas's " Confutation of Tyndale's An- 
 swer;" Loivd. 1.533, folio. These treatises are 
 pervaded with all the absurdities of Catho- 
 licism. 
 
 3. In this list ought also to be enumerated, 
 his " Dialogue on Tribulation." 
 
 But the English work to which alone poste- 
 rity is indebted to him, is his " History of Ed- 
 ward V. and his Brother, and of Richard 
 III." This work was begun before he had 
 finished his Eutopia, but was never completed. 
 According to Grafton, it was written in 1508. 
 
 The preceding extract is remarkable chiefly 
 as affording an example of the fermentation of 
 religious opinion which distinguished the age; 
 the following may be regarded as a fair spe- 
 cimen of stile, and of the state of the language,
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 373 
 
 \ 
 
 in addition to the interest of the narrative 
 
 itself. 
 
 Description of the Person and Character of 
 Richard the Third. 
 
 Richard, the third son, of whom we now entreat, 
 was in wit and courage egal* with either of them, in 
 body and prowess, far under thern both ; little of 
 stature, ihVfeatured of limbs, crook-backed, his 
 left shoulder much high'er than his right, haid-fa- 
 voured of visage, as such as in states called warlye; in 
 other men otherwise. He was malicious, wrathful, 
 envious, and from afore his birth, ever fro ward. It 
 is for truth reported, that the duchess his mother 
 had so much ado in her travail, that she could not 
 be delivered of him uncut ; and that he came into 
 the world with the feet forward, as men be borne 
 outward; and (as the fame runneth) also not un- 
 toothed ; (whether men of hatred report above the 
 truth, or else that nature changed her course in his 
 beginning, which, in the course of his life, many 
 things unnaturally committed.) 
 
 None evil captain was he in the war, as to which 
 his disposition was more meetly than for peace. 
 Sundry victories had he, and sometime overthrows j 
 
 1 e^ual.
 
 374 SIR THOMAS'MORE. 
 
 but never in default for his own person, either of 
 hardiness or politic order. Free was he called of 
 dispense, and somewhat above his power liberal. 
 With large gifts he get him unsteadfast friendship, 
 for which he was fain to pil and spoil in other 
 places, and get him stedfast hatred. He was close 
 and secret ; a deep dissimuler, lowly of countenance, 
 arrogant of heart ; outwardly cvumpinable where he 
 inwardly hated, not letting to kiss whom he thought 
 to kill ; dispitious and cruel, not for evil will alway ; 
 but after for ambition, and either for the surety and 
 increase of his estate. Friend and foe was much 
 what indifferent, where his advantage grew; he 
 spared no man's death whose life withstood his pur- 
 pose. He slew with his own hands king Henry VI. 
 being prisoner in the Tower. 
 
 It will be recollected that the earl of Rivers, 
 uncle and guardian of the young king, had 
 been arrested by orders from the duke of Glo- 
 cester ; and that the queen, alarmed at this 
 act of violence in the protector, had fled to the 
 sanctuary of Westminster, with the five 
 princesses, and the duke of York. Richard 
 resolving, as the. first step to his usurpation, to 
 get both the young princes into his hands,
 
 SIE THOMAS MORE. 375 
 
 dispatched the two archbishops, cardinal Bour- 
 chier, the primate, and Rotherham, arch- 
 bishop of York, to the queen, to prevail upon 
 her, if possible, without violence, to accede to 
 his proposals. These prelates being men of 
 integrity and honour, were the dupes of Glo- 
 cester's artifice; and undertook the commis- 
 sion in the full persuasion of the good inten- 
 tions of their employer. The following is an 
 account of their interview with the queen, 
 which possesses considerable interest. The 
 cardinal, having delivered his message 
 
 My lord, (quod the queen,) I say not nay; but 
 that it were very convenient that this gentleman, 
 whom ye require, were in the company of the king, 
 his brother. And in good faith, me thinketh, it 
 were as great commodity to them as for yet awhile 
 to ben in the custody of their mother, the tender age 
 considered of the elder of them both ; but special the 
 younger, which, besides his infancy, that also need- 
 eth good looking to, hath awhile been so sore dis- 
 eased, vexed \yith sickness, and is so newly rather a 
 little amended than well recovered, that I dare put no 
 person earthly in trust with his keeping but myself 
 only ; considering that there is, as physicians say, 
 and as v we also find, double the peril in the recidiva- 
 tioii, that was in the first sickness, with which
 
 376 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 disease nature being forlaboured, forwearied, and 
 weaked, waxeth the less able to bear out a new sur- 
 feit. And albeit, there might be founden other that 
 would haply do their best unto him; yet is there 
 none that either knoweth better how to order him 
 than I that so long have kept him ; or is more ten- 
 derly like to cherish him than his own mother that 
 bare him. 
 
 The primate, among other things, then ob- 
 serving that it was inexpedient the child should 
 be always with his mother ; and that herself 
 was well content that the young king should be 
 removed to Wales 
 
 Not very content, (quod the queen,) and yet the 
 case is not like : for the tone was then in health, and 
 the tother is now sick. In which case, 1 marvel 
 greatly that my lord protector is so desirous to have 
 him in his keeping, where if the child in his sick- 
 ness miscarried by nature, yet might he run into 
 slander and suspicion, or fraud. And where they 
 call it a thing so sore against my child's honour and 
 theirs also, that he bideth in this place ; it is all 
 their honours there to suffer him bide where no man 
 doubteth he shall be best kept. And that is here, 
 while I am here, which as yet intend not to come 
 forth, andjubarde* myself after other of my friends ; 
 
 endanger, put in jeopardy.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 377 
 
 which, would God! were rather here in surety with 
 me, than I were there injubardy with them. 
 
 Why, madam, (quod another lord,) know you any 
 thing why they should be injubardy ? 
 
 Nay, verily, sir, (quod she,) nor why they should 
 be in prison neither, as they now be. But it is, I 
 trow, no great marvel, tho' I fear, lest those that 
 have not letted 1 to put them in duresse* without co- 
 lour, will let as little to procure their destruction 
 without cause. 
 
 The cardinal made a continuance to the tot/ier 
 lord, that he should harp no more upon that string. 
 And then, said he to the queen, that he nothing 
 doubted but that those lords of her honourable kin, 
 which as yet remained under arrest, should, upon 
 the matter examined, do well enough. And as 
 toward her noble person, neither was nor could be 
 any manner jubardy. 
 
 Whereby should I trust that (quod the queen,) 
 in that I am guiltless ? As tho' they were guilty i 
 in that I am with their enemies better beloved than 
 they ? when they hate them for my sake in that 
 I am so near of kin to the king ? and how far be they 
 off, if that would help, as God send grace it hurt 
 not. And, therefore, as for me, I purpose not as 
 yet to depart hence. And as for this gentleman, 
 my SOD, I mind that he shall be where I am, till [ 
 
 ' hindered. a durance.
 
 378 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 see further : for I assure you, for that I see some 
 men so greedy, without any substantial cause, to 
 have him, this maketh me much the more/order ' to 
 deliver him. 
 
 i Truly, madam, (quod he,) and the / order that you 
 be to deliver him, the/order ben other men to suffer 
 you to keep him, lest your causeless fear might cause 
 you farther to convey him. And many be there 
 that think that he can have no privilege in this 
 place, which neither can have will to ask it, nor 
 malice to deserve it. And therefore they reckon no 
 privilege broken, tho' they fetch him out ; which if 
 ye finally refuse to deliver him, I verily believe they 
 will. So much dread hath my lord, his uncle, for 
 the tender love he beareth him, lest your grace 
 should hap to send him away. 
 
 Ah sir ! (quod the queen,) hath the protector so 
 tender zeal to him, that he feareth nothing lest he 
 should escape him ! Thinketh he that I would send 
 him hence, which neither is in the plight to send 
 out? And in what place could I reckon him su*e, if 
 he be not sure in this sentuary, whereof was there 
 never tyrant yet so devilish, that durst presume to 
 break ; and I trust God, as strong now to withstand 
 his adversaries, as ever he was. But my son can de- 
 serve no sentuary, and therefore he cannot have it. 
 Forsooth, he hath founden a goodly glose* by which 
 
 J more loth. 5 gloss.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 3/9 
 
 that place that may defend a thief, may not save an 
 innocent. But he is in nojubardy, nor hath no need 
 thereof. Would God he had not! Troweth the 
 protector, (I pray God he may prove a protector,) 
 troweth he that I perceive not whereunto his painted 
 process draweth ? It is not honourable that the 
 duke bide here. It were comfortable for them both, 
 that he were with his brother, because the king 
 lacketh a playfellow, be ye sure. I pray God send 
 them both better playfellows than him, that maketh 
 BO high a matter upon such a trifling pretext : as 
 tho' there could none be found to play with the 
 king, but if his brother, that hath no lust 1 to play for 
 sickness, come out "of sentuary, out of his safe- 
 guard to play with him. As tho' princes, as young as 
 they be, could not play but with their peers, or children 
 could not play but with their kindred, with whom for 
 the more part they agree much worse than with stran- 
 gers. But the child cannot require the privilege; who 
 told him so ? He shall here him ask it an he will. 
 
 Howbeit this is a gay* matter. Suppose he could 
 not ask it, suppose he would nottisk it, suppose he 
 would ask to go out; if I say he shall not; if I 
 ask the privilege but for myself, I say, he that 
 against my will taketh out him, breaketh the sen- 
 tuary. Serveth this liberty for my person only, or 
 for my goods too? Ye may not hence take my 
 
 desire. 'light.
 
 380 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 horse fro me. He is also my ward : for as my 
 learned council sheweth me, syth he hath nothing by 
 descent holden by knight's service, the law maketh 
 his mother bisgardaine 1 . Then may no man, I sup- 
 pose, take my ward fro me out of sentuary, with- 
 out the breach of the sentuary. And if my privi- 
 lege could not serve him, nor he ask it for himself, 
 yet syth the law committeth to me the custody of 
 him, I may require it for him ; except the law give 
 a child a guardian only for his goods and his lands, 
 discharging him of the cure and safe keeping of his 
 body, for which only both lands and goods serve. 
 And if examples be sufficient to obtain privilege for 
 my child, I need not far to seek, For in this place 
 in which we now be, (and which is now in question 
 whether my child may take benefit of it,) mine other 
 son, now king, was born, and kept in his cradle, and 
 preserved to a more prosperous fortune, which I 
 pray God long to continue. And as all you know, 
 this is not the first time that I have -taken sentuary ; 
 for when my lord, my husband, was banished, and 
 thrust out of his kingdom, I fled hither, being great 
 with child, and here I bare the prince. And when 
 my lord, my husband, returned safe again, and had 
 the victory, then went 1 hence to welcome him 
 home ; and from hence I brought my babe, the 
 prince, unto his father, when he first took him in 
 
 J guardian.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 381 
 
 his arms. And I pray God that my son's palace 
 may be as great safeguard to him now reigning, as 
 this place was some time to the king's enemy. In 
 which place I intend to keep his brother sith t &c. 
 
 Wherefore, here intend I to keep him, since man's 
 law serveth the guardian to keep the infant. The 
 law of nature will the mother keep her child. God's 
 law privilegeth the sentuary, and the sentuary my 
 son, sith I fear to put him in the protector's hands* 
 that hath his brother already, and were, if both 
 failed, inheritor to the crowns. The cause of my 
 fear hath no man to do to examine. And yet fear [ 
 no farther them that law feareth, which as learned 
 men tell me, forbiddeth every man the custody of 
 them by whose death he may inherit less land than 
 a kingdom. I can no more ; but whosoever he be 
 that breaketh this holy sentuary, I pray God shortly 
 fend him need of sentuary, when he may not come 
 to it : for taken out of sentuary would I not my 
 mortal enemy were. 
 
 The cardinal perceiving the emotion of the 
 queen, and the little progress he made with 
 her, was desirous of putting an end to the 
 conference ; and assured her, as his final con- 
 clusion, that if she would consent to deliver the 
 duke to him and the other lords then present, 
 he " durst lay his own body and soul both in
 
 382 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 pledge, not only for his surety, but also for his 
 estate." The queen now finding the protector 
 himself at hand, conceiving resistance fruitless, 
 and not doubting the faith of the cardinal, 
 nor that of some other of the attendant lords, 
 at length, taking the young duke by the hand 
 
 My lord, (quod she,) and all my lords, I neither 
 am so unwise to mistrust your wits, nor so suspi- 
 cious to mistrust your truths. Of which thing I 
 purpose to make you such a proof, as if either of 
 both lacked in you, might turn both me to great sor- 
 row, the realm to much harm, and you to great re- 
 proach. For lo ! here is (quod she,) this gentleman, 
 whom I doubt not I could here keep safe, if I would, 
 whatsoever any man say. And I doubt not also, 
 that there be some abroad so deadly enemies unto 
 my blood, that if they wist where any of it lay 
 in their own body, they would let it out. We have 
 also had experience that the desire of a kingdom 
 knoweth no kindred. The brother hath been the 
 brother's bane. And may the nephews be sure of 
 their uncle ? Each of these children is others de- 
 fence while they be asunder, and each of their lives 
 lieth in the other's body. Keep one safe, and both 
 be sure ; and nothing for them both more perilous, 
 than to be both in one place. For what wise mer- 
 chant ventureth all his goods in one ship? All this
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 383 
 
 f 
 
 notwithstanding, here I deliver him, and his brother 
 in him, to keep into your hands, of whom I shall ask 
 them both afore God and the world. Faithful ye be, 
 that wot 1 well ; and I know well you be wise. 
 Power and strength to keep him, if ye list, neither 
 lack ye of yourself, nor can lack help in their cause. 
 And if ye cannot elsewhere, then may you leave him 
 here. But only one thing I beseech you, for the 
 trust that his father put in you ever, and for the 
 trust that I put in you now, that as far as ye think 
 that I fear too much, be you well ware that you fear 
 not as far too little. And therewithal, she said unto 
 the child : Farewell my own sweet son ; God send 
 you good keeping ; let me kiss you once yet ere you 
 go : for God knoweth when we shall kiss together 
 again. And therewith she kissed him, and blessed 
 him ; turned her back and wept, and went her way, 
 leaving the child weeping as fast. 
 
 This history, though first published in Eng- 
 lish, afterwards appeared in Latin, the lan- 
 guage in which it is supposed to have been 
 first composed. The English copy is inserted 
 in Hall, Grafton, Holinshed, and Stow ; that 
 in the Complete History of England, by Ken- 
 net, is (as observed by Laing,)" a licentious and
 
 384 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 faulty paraphrase by himself or Strype, which 
 has with most authors superseded the original." 
 Hume, in note [M] to the third volume of 
 his history, where he discusses the question of 
 Perk in Warbeck's imposture, has occasion to 
 speak of sir Thomas More, who is the principal 
 authority. He says, " Though the circum- 
 stances of the wars between the two Roses be, 
 in general, involved in great obscurity, yet is 
 there a most luminous ray thrown on all the 
 transactions, during the usurpation of Rich- 
 ard, and the murder of the two young princes, 
 by the narrative of sir Thomas More, whose 
 singular magnanimity, probity, and judgment, 
 make him an evidence beyond all exception ! 
 No historian, either of ancient or modern 
 times, can possibly have more weight. He 
 may also be justly esteemed a contemporary 
 with regard to the murder of the two princes : 
 for though he was but five years of age when 
 that event happened, he lived and was edu- 
 cated among the chief actors during the pe- 
 riod of Richard : and it is plain, from his nar- 
 rative itself, which is often extremely circum- 
 stantial, that he had the particulars from the 
 eye witnesses themselves. His authority there- 
 fore is irresistible, and sufficient to overba-
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE!. 885 
 
 lance a hundred little 3oubts and scruples and 
 objections. For in reality, his narrative is li- 
 able to no solid objection, nor is there any 
 mistake detected in it." We may add, that it 
 has been followed and almost transcribed by 
 every subsequent compiler. 
 
 Notwithstanding these confident assertions 
 of Hume, the question of the authenticity of 
 sir Thomas's narrative, has given rise to much 
 controversy. The first who ventured to dis- 
 pute the account of Richard's usurpation, 
 &e. which had been so. long received as ge- 
 nuine history, was Buck, in his " Life and 
 Reign of Richard III." in which he not only 
 asserts the innocence of that prince, but even 
 denies the extreme deformity of person, with 
 which he had hitherto been described. But as 
 the establishment of this historic point ne- 
 cessarily invalidated the title of the reigning 
 family*, it's right of inheritance deriving 
 
 * Buck lived in the reign of James I. to whom he was one of 
 the gentlemen of the privy chamber ; he was also knighted by 
 that prince, and appointed master of the revels. He wrote 
 likewise, 2. " The Third University of England ; or, a Treatise 
 of the Foundation of all the Colleges, ancient Schools of Privi- 
 lege, and of Houses of Learning and liberal Arts, within and 
 VOL. I. CC
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 from Henry VII.'s daughter, he felt himself 
 under the necessity of finding a new title for 
 James, in his descent from the Saxon mo- 
 narchs from Margaret, the sister of Edgar 
 Atheling, married to Malcolm Canmore. 
 
 The same view of this dark period has been 
 taken by Carte, in his History of England ; and 
 by Horace Walpole,in his " Historic Doubts," 
 who has illustrated it with new arsTiments. 
 
 O 
 
 More recently, Mr. Laing has examined the 
 subject with a minuteness and accuracy which 
 so peculiarly distinguish all the historical 
 researches of that gentleman*. 
 
 The object of the present work precludes long 
 discussions of this nature; but having given 
 place to the passage from Hume, which ex- 
 presses the common opinion, it were unjust 
 to -the reader not to exhibit also the general 
 inferences of Mr. Laing. He begins with ob- 
 serving, that the controversy resolves into four 
 general divisions; 1. The crimes attributed to 
 
 about the most famous City of London, with a brief Report of 
 the Sciences, Arts, and Faculties therein professed, studied, and 
 practiced." 3. Also, a Treatise of the Art of Revels. 
 
 * See Appendix to the lath Vol, of Henry's History of Eng- 
 land a Lond. 1799.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE.. 387 
 
 Richard's youth ; 2. His usurpation, or ac- 
 quisition of the crown ; 3. The fate of his ne- 
 phews ; 4. The pretensions and character of 
 Perkin Warheck : relative to all which points", 
 he concludes respectively; 1. That an impar- 
 tial historian must exculpate Richard from the 
 crimes of his early youth the murder of 
 Henry VI. of his son, prince Edward, and 
 perhaps of Clarence ; 2. That instead of a per- 
 jured traitor, we recognise the legitimate so- 
 vereign of England ; 3. That the account of 
 the murder of the young princes is false ; 4. 
 And that Perkin Warbeck was a genuine Plan- 
 
 o 
 
 tagenet the real duke of York-^-not an impos- 
 tor, according to received history* 
 
 In this able disquisition, the source is de- 
 tected whence More derived his spurious do- 
 cuments. It has been commonly supposed that 
 sir Thomas's information was traditionary < 
 gleaned from his intercourse with Richard's 
 cotemporaries. But Mr. Laing observes, " that 
 a tradition recorded by Harrington (1596,) 
 assigns his history to Morton, (Malone's 
 Shakespeare, vol 5, p. 5G2,) and a Latin his- 
 tory of Richard, composed by that prelate, 
 was preserved in the last century, by Roper, a 
 descendent of More, to whom, as a favourite
 
 383 Sin THOMAS MORE. 
 
 pupil*, the book had devolved. (Buck a pud 
 Kcnnet, 546.) That such was the source of his 
 information, the substratum on which he con- 
 structed his history, is farther confirmed by the 
 English edition ; which extending beyond the 
 period of Richard's accession, comprehends the 
 murder of his nephews, the secret disaffection 
 of Buckingham, and terminates abruptly in the 
 midst of an interesting conversation between 
 the latter and Morton. The conversation is 
 resumed and continued by Hall and Graftou, 
 in a manner equally minute and circumstan- 
 tial, nor apparently less authentic ; and as the 
 particulars could only be obtained from Mor- 
 ton, I conclude that they and More had access 
 to the same original information, and attribute 
 the materials of the history in question to 
 Morton ; the ornamental and classical varnish 
 to More. This discovery may exculpate More 
 from the imputation of propagating deliberate 
 falsehood. Not a spectator merely, but an ac- 
 torf, chiefly instrumental in Richard's destruc- 
 tion, Morton's knowledge and intentional mis- 
 representation of Edward's marriage, and 
 
 * We have already seen that More was educated in the house 
 of Morton. 
 t Morton was a Lancastrian.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 389 
 
 Richard's title, bestows additional confirma- 
 tion on both," Stc. I shall now simply express 
 my opinion, that whosoever pays the requisite 
 attention to the detail of Mr. Laing's argu- 
 ments, will be convinced with me, that the po- 
 sitions he has established are founded in truth. 
 
 More's English works were collected by or- 
 der of queen Mary, and published in 1557. 
 
 Though this article is already extended to 
 perhaps a disproportionate length, a few parti- 
 culars relative to the person and character of 
 so illustrious a man may not be unacceptable. 
 The person of sir Thomas More was of the 
 middle stature, and exactly proportioned ; his 
 complexion fair, with a light tincture of red ; 
 his hair dark chesnut ; his eyes grey ; his ge- 
 neral aspect smiling and festive, rather than 
 grave or dignified ; but there was nothing in 
 it of the low and scurrilous. His moral cha- 
 racter, disconnected from his religious opi- 
 nions, was unimpeachable ; his benevolence 
 was warm and diffusive ; and he had the most 
 generous contempt for riches and external ho- 
 nours. Though of all the servants and favor- 
 
 <J 
 
 itcs of Henry VIII. he obtained the greatest
 
 390 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 share of his attention and kind offices, though 
 -he had filled such a number of honorable and 
 dignified stations during a period of twenty 
 years, he had not accumulated, at his final re- 
 signation of all public business, property enough 
 to purchase a hundred pounds per annum, 
 While in the practice of the law, no fee could 
 bribe him to defend a bad cause. 
 
 More was a man of genius, and of a mind 
 enriched with all the learning of his time, 
 He gave early proofs of superior talent. Be- 
 fore he was nineteen, he had acquired a cri- 
 tical knowledge of the Latin and Greek lan- 
 guages, was well versed in rhetoric, and other 
 branches of elegant literature. He was not 
 only intimately acquainted with the Greek and 
 Roman classics ; but it appears from his Eu- 
 topia, his most celebrated work, that he had 
 imbibed the generous spirit of antiquity, and 
 embraced sentiments which would be deemed 
 free even in modern times. Unhappily, how-j 
 ever, his fine genius and excellent understand- 
 ing were disgraced by the grossest bigotry and 
 superstition, The fact would appear incre- 
 dible, were there not various other examples 
 on record of the subjection of the most splen-? 
 did talents to similar weaknesses. Though.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 391 
 
 a man of the gentlest manners, and of incor- 
 ruptible integrity, his temper had been so 
 irritated by polemics, originating in the events 
 of the times, as to inspire him with the most 
 extravagant attachment to the ancient super- 
 stition. It is said*, that when lord chancel- 
 lor, he put on a surplice, and assisted the 
 priest in saying mass in Chelsea -church. 
 His aversion to heterodoxy was so implacable, 
 that few inquisitors have surpassed him in 
 their persecutions of heresy. 
 
 No man of his time had so extensive an in- 
 fluence over his cotemporaries. He held al- 
 most a continual correspondence with the 
 chief literati of Europe. The celebrated Eras- 
 mus made a voyage to England, on purpose to 
 enjoy the pleasure of his conversation. There 
 is an amusing anecdote on record of the first 
 rencontre of these two illustrious men. It was 
 contrived, that at their first interview they 
 should be unknown to each other. This inter- 
 view took place at the lord mayor's table, at 
 that period always open to men of learning and 
 eminence. At dinner, a dispute arising on 
 some theological points, Erasmus expressed 
 
 * Stow's London, Vol. II. p. 762. Note by Strype.
 
 SIR- THOMAS MORE. 
 
 himself with great severity of the clergy, and 
 ridiculed with considerable acrimony, the doc- 
 trine of transubstantiation. This was a tender 
 subject with sir Thomas, and he rejoined with 
 the utmost poignancy of his wit. Erasmus, 
 thus powerfully assailed, was urged to exclaim 
 with some vehemence, " Aut tu Morus es, aut 
 nullusf to which More with great readiness^ 
 replied, " Aut tu es Erasmus aut diabolus." 
 
 In this contest, sir Thomas's wit, if not his 
 arguments, prevailed ; but some time after, 
 Erasmus had a similar, and a far greater ad- 
 vantage. More had lent Erasmus a horse, 
 which he took over with him to Holland. In- 
 stead of returning it to the owner, he sent him 
 the following epigram, intended as an answer 
 to the quondam arguments of sir Thomas, on 
 the subject of transubstantiation : 
 
 Quod mihi dixisti, 
 De corpore Christi, 
 
 Crede quod edas, et dis ; 
 Sic tibi rescribo, 
 De tuo palfrido ; 
 
 Crede quod habeas, et habes. 
 
 The high estimation in which both he and.
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 3Q3 
 
 his fellow-sufferer, bishop Fischer, were held 
 hy their countrymen, is further evinced by 
 the following anecdote : \V hen they were 
 both confined in the Tower, for their refusal to 
 swear to the supremacy, Rich, the solicitor- 
 general, was sent to each in succession, to in- 
 duce them, if possible, to abandon their scru- 
 ples. They both persisted in denying the king's 
 supremacy, and the illegality of his marriage 
 with the queen Catherine ; though they con- 
 ceded so far as to agree to swear allegiance to 
 the king, and to the succession. Archbishop 
 Cranmer proposed accepting these conces- 
 sions, without troubling them on the other 
 points : " for (says he in his letter to Crom- 
 well on this occasion,) if they once swear to 
 the succession, it will quiet the kingdom : for 
 they acknowledging it, all other persons will 
 acquiesce and submit to their judgment." But 
 the vindictive temper of the king never par- 
 doned those who ventured to oppose his arbi- 
 trary will. 
 
 Another anecdote will serve to prove his un- 
 common ardour in literary pursuits, and the 
 high value he in consequence set upon his 
 time. Sir Thomas was possessed of great 
 conversational powers, blended with that de-
 
 394- SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 flow of feeling which never fails to 
 
 O 
 
 warm and attach the heart. Henry VIII. was 
 delighted with his company, and often sent for 
 him ; but these marks of royal favour, which, 
 to an ordinary mind would have been the most 
 flattering and valued tokens of regard, were 
 not relished by More, who considered every 
 moment thus spent as an encroachment upon 
 his more important occupations. To get rid 
 of the evil, therefore, he resorted to the singu- 
 lar expedient of appearing extremely dull in 
 conversation for several successive times. The 
 stratagem succeeded, and he was sent for no 
 more. He thus sacrificed the reputation of a 
 wit, to save his time. 
 
 Sir Thomas More is justly regarded as one 
 of the chief revivers of classical literature in 
 England. He both wrote and spoke Latin 
 with almost the correctness and fluency of an 
 ancient Roman; and with all his theological 
 errors, he taught that erudition which civi- 
 lized his country. He is scarcely less conspi- 
 cuous as an improver of his native tongue. 
 His language is more studied, more appro- 
 priate and correct is more the phraseology of 
 a man of learning and sense, than any spe- 
 cimen which preceded him. From his pro-
 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 ficiency in the Greek and Latin, he was 
 enabled to transfuse into his vernacular dialect, 
 many of the excellencies which characterise 
 those admirable languages; and 'his style 
 abounds with inversions and other peculiarities 
 of classical diction. His English works were 
 considered as standards of style as low down 
 #s the reign of James I.
 
 LELAND. 
 
 JOHN LELAND, the father of English anti- 
 quaries, was born in London, and educated at 
 St. Paul's school, under Williain Lilly, the .ce- 
 lebrated grammarian. At the customary age 
 he entered at Christ's College, Cambridge, of 
 ivhich he became a fellow. He subsequently 
 removed to All-souls, Oxford. After a resi- 
 dence of several years in that college, during 
 which he paid particular attention to Grecian 
 literature, he visited Paris, perfected himself 
 in the Latin and Greek by his intercourse with 
 Budaeus, Faber, Paulus Emilius, Ruellius, and 
 Francis Sylvius ; and before his return became 
 acquainted with the French, Italian, and Spa- 
 nish languages. To these he subsequently 
 added the Welch and Saxon. 
 
 On his taking orders, Henry VIII. made him 
 one of his chaplains, gave him the rectory of
 
 LliLAND. 397 
 
 Popeling, in the marches of Calais, appointed 
 him his library-keeper, and conferred on him 
 the title of his antiquary. He thus became 
 the first, and he was also the last antiquary- 
 royal, in England. In this character, his 
 majesty, in 1533, granted him a commission, 
 under the great seal, to investigate the 
 antiquities of England j and with this view, 
 to search the libraries of all cathedrals, ab- 
 beys, priories, colleges, and other repositaries 
 of the records of antiquity. In this anti- 
 quarian research, he spent above six years, 
 observing with particular care all the tumuli, 
 coins, inscriptions, 8cc. which he met with, 
 and directing his footsteps, with curious vigi- 
 lance, to all the remains of Roman, Saxon, or 
 Danish buildings ; visiting likewise all the 
 sea-coasts, as well as midland parts of the 
 country. 
 
 Prior to Leland, all the literary monuments 
 of antiquity, were totally disregarded, and stu- 
 dents from Germany, apprised of this culpable 
 indifference, were suffered to enter our libraries 
 unmolested, and to cut out of the books repo- 
 sited there, whatever passages they thought 
 proper; which they afterwards published as 
 relics of the ancient literature of their OWH
 
 3<J8 LELAND. 
 
 country. The havoc thus made of the remains 
 of our ancient learning, as well as by the sub- 
 . sequent dissolution of the monasteries, Leland 
 beheld with regret ; and he wrote to secretary 
 Cromwell, to intreat his assistance in rescuing 
 from the injuries of time, the writings of ancient 
 authors. He then began a diligent search, and 
 every literary relic he could find, he faithfully 
 copied and registered, some of which he af- 
 terwards reposited in the king's library, retain- 
 ing others in his own custody. For this meri- 
 torious toil, the king, in 1542, presented him, 
 with the valuable rectory of Hasely, in Ox- 
 fordshire ; the year following preferred him to 
 a canonry of King's College, now Christ- 
 church, Oxford ; and about the same time 
 collated him to a prebend in tlje church of Sa- 
 rum. He died on the 18th of April, 1552, after 
 having been two years in a state of insanity. 
 
 The writings of Leland are numerous, con- 
 sisting of poetical pieces in Latin, and even in 
 Greek, as well as of antiquarian productions. 
 My concern is only with the last. These I 
 shall mention in the order in which they were 
 composed, or rather printed. 
 
 1 . Assertio inclytissimi Arturil, Regis Britan- 
 nia. Eienchits Antiquorum Nominum, Lond.
 
 LELAND. 399 
 
 J543,4to. This work has been translated into 
 English by R. Robinson, under the title <f An- 
 cient Order, Society, and Unity laudable of 
 Prince Arthur and his Knightly Armory of the 
 Round Table; with a Three-fold Assertion, 
 1.582." 
 
 2. " The Laborious Journey and Search of 
 John Lelan'd, for England's Antiquities, given 
 of him as a new year's gift to king Henry 
 VIII. in the 37th year of his reign." 
 
 After a short account of his travels and col- 
 lections, he informs his majesty, that he had 
 digested into four books, an account of the il- 
 lustrious writers of this realm, with their lives 
 and monuments of learning. 
 
 Whereas it pleased your highness, upon very just 
 considerations, to encourage me, by the authority of 
 your most gracious commission, in the twenty* 
 fifth year of your prosperous reign, to peruse and 
 diligently to search all the libraries of monasteries 
 and colleges of this your noble realm, to the intent 
 that the monuments of ancient writers, as well of 
 other, as of this your own province, might be 
 brought out of deadly darkness to lively light, and to 
 receive like thanks of the posterity, as they hoped 
 for at such time as they employed their long and
 
 400 LELAND. 
 
 great studies to the public wealth ; yea, and further- 
 more, that the holy scripture of God might both be 
 sincerely taught and learned, all manner of supel'sti* 
 tion and craftily-coloured doctrine of a rout of the 
 Roman bishops totally expelled out of this your 
 most catholic realm : I think it now no less than 
 my very duty brcvely to declare to your majesty, 
 what fruit hath sprung of my laborious journey 
 and costly enterprise, both rooted upon your infinite 
 goodness and liberality qualities right highly to be 
 esteemed in all princes, and most especially in you, 
 as naturally your own well known proprieties l . 
 
 First, I have conserved many good authors, the which, 
 otherwise had been like to have perished, to no small 
 incommodity of good letters ; of the which, part re- 
 main in the most magnificent libraries of your royal 
 palaces ; part also remain in my custody ; whereby 
 I trust right shortly so to describe your most noble 
 realm, and to publish the majesty of the excellent acts 
 of your progenitors, (hitherto sore obscured both for 
 lack of enprinting of such works as lay secretly in 
 corners, and also because men of eloquence hath not 
 enterprised to set them forth in a florishing stile, in 
 some times past not commonly used in England of 
 writers otherwise well learned, and now in such esti- 
 mation, that except truth be delicately clothed in 
 purpure*, her written verities can scant* find a reader;) 
 
 1 properties. * purple. 3 scarcely.
 
 LELAND. 401 
 
 that all the world shall evidently perceive that no 
 particular region may justly be more extolled thaa 
 yours : for true nobility and virtues at all points re- 
 nowned. Farthermore, part of the exemplaries cu- 
 riously sought by me, and fortunately found in sun- 
 dry places of this your dominion, hath been' en- 
 printed in Germany, and now be in the presses 
 chiefly of Frobenius ; that not all only the Germans, 
 but also the Italians themself, (that count, as the 
 Greeks did, full arrogantly, all other nations to be 
 barbarous and unlettered, saving their own,) shall 
 have .a direct occasion openly of force to say, that 
 Britannia primafuit parens altrix, (addo hoc etiam et 
 juro quodam uptirno) coiisematrix cum virorum ?nagno- 
 rum, turn maximt ingeniorum. 
 
 Of the writers of England, 8tc. he says : 
 
 The first book, beginning at 'the Druids, is de- 
 ducted on the time of the coming of St. Augustine 
 into England. The second is from the time of Au- 
 gustine on to the advent of the Normans. The 
 third from the Normans to the end of the most ho- 
 norable reign of the mighty, famous, and prudent 
 prince Henry VII. your father. The fourth begin- 
 neth with the name of your majesty, whose glory 
 in learning is to, the world so clearly known, that 
 tho' among the lives of other learned, I have accu- 
 
 VOL. I. D (1
 
 402 LELAND. 
 
 rately celebrated the names of Bladudus, Molmutius, 
 Constantinus Magnus, Sigebertus, Alfridus, Alfridus 
 Magnus, ^Ethelstanus, and Henry I. kings and your 
 progenitors ; and also ^Ethelward, second son to 
 Alfred the Great; Hunfrid, duke of Glocester ; and 
 Tipetote, earl of Worcester ; yet conferred .with your 
 grace, they seem as small lights, (if I may freely say 
 my judgment, your high [modesty not offended,) in 
 respect of the day-star. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Wherefore, after that I had perpended 1 the honest 
 and profitable studies of these historiographs, I was 
 totally enflamed with a love to see thoroughly all 
 those parts of this your opulent and ample realm, 
 that I had read of in the aforesaid writers ; inso- 
 much that all my other occupations intermitted, I 
 have so travelled in your dominions, both by the sea- 
 coasts and the middle parts, sparing nother labour 
 nor costs, by the space of these six years past ; that 
 there is almost nother cape nor bay, haven, creek or 
 pier, river, or confluence of rivers, breaches, washes, 
 lakes, meres, fenny waters, mountains, valleys, 
 moors, heaths, forests, chaces, woods, cities, burghs, 
 castles, principal manor places, monasteries, and 
 colleges, but I have seen them ; and noted in so do- 
 ing, a whole world of things very memorable. 
 ******* 
 
 Yea, and to wade farther in this matter, whereas 
 
 J weighed.
 
 LELAND. 403 
 
 now almost no man. can well guess at the shadow of 
 the ancient names of havens, rivers, promontories, 
 hills, woods, cities, towns, castles, and variety of 
 kindreds of people, that Cajsar, Livy, Strabo, Dio- 
 dorus, Fabius Pictor, Pomponius Mela, Plinius, 
 Cornelius Tacitus, Ptolemaeus, Sextus Rufus, Am- 
 mianus Marcellinus, Solinus, Antoninus, and di- 
 vers other make mention of, I trust so to open this 
 window, that the light shall be seen so long, that is 
 to say, by the space of a whole thousand years 
 stopped up, and the whole glory of your renowned 
 Britain to reflorish through the world. 
 
 This done, I have matter at plenty already pre- 
 pare'd to this purpose, that is to say, to write an his- 
 tory, to the which I entend to adscribe this title, De 
 Antiquitate Britanmcd ; or else, Chilis Historia. And 
 this work I entend to divide into so many books as 
 there be shires in England, and shires and great do- 
 minions in Wales. So that I esteem that this vo- 
 lume will include a fifty books, whereof each one se- 
 verally shall contain the beginnings, encreases, and 
 memorable acts of the chief towns and castles of the 
 province allotted to it. 
 
 Then I entend to distribute into six books, such 
 matter as I have already collected concerning the 
 isles adjacent to your noble realm, and under your 
 subjection. Whereof there shall be of these isles, 
 Vecta, Mvna, and Mevania, sometime kingdoms.
 
 404 LELAND. 
 
 And to superadd a work as an ornament, and a 
 right comely garland to the enterprizes aforesaid, I 
 Jiave selected stuff to be distributed into three books, 
 the which I purpose thus to entitle, De Nobilitatc 
 Tlritannicd. Whereof the first shall declare the 
 names of kings, queens, with their children ; dukes, 
 earls, lords, captains, and rulers in this realm, to 
 the coming of the Saxons ; and their conquest. The 
 second shall be of the Saxons and Danes, to the 
 victory of king William the Great. The third from 
 the Xormans, to the reign of your most noble grace, 
 descending lineally of the Briton, Saxon, and Nor- 
 man kings. So that all noblemen shall clearly per- 
 ceive their lineal parentele. 
 
 The "New Year's Gift," Lond. 1549, was 
 edited by John Bale, with notes ; who also ad- 
 ded of his own, " A Register of the Names 
 of English Writers," whom the second part of 
 his work, De Scriptoribus Britannia, shall com- 
 prehend. It has been also reprinted by Hearne, 
 in the first volume of the " Itinerary" of our 
 author. 
 
 3. Commentarii de Scriptoribus Britannicis, 
 Auctore, Joanne Lelando Londinate, Oxon. 1709, 
 fivols. 8vo.; commonly bound in one. This
 
 LELAND. 405 
 
 Was edited by Mr. Anthony Hall, and forms 
 the fourth volume of the author's " Collec- 
 tions," and contains the lives and characters 
 of most of the eminent writers of England. A 
 great part of this work has been transcribed by 
 Bale, in his Scriptorum Britannia Catalogus; 
 and is often referred to by Pits, after Bale. 
 
 It should be observed, that Leland, as like- 
 wise Bale and Pits, give an account of many 
 learned Britons who florished long before, and 
 about the time of the Roman invasion ; but 
 these, for the most part, from internal evi- 
 dence alone, we may pronounce to be legen- 
 dary. There is a story of one Perdix, or Par- 
 tridge, a British prophet, who, according to 
 these writers, florished in the year 760 before 
 Christ, and" was cotemporary with Isaiah. 
 The story is mentioned at some length by 
 Henry. 
 
 4. " The Itinerary of John Leland, the anti- 
 quary," was published by the industrious 
 Hearne, Oxford, 1710, in 9 volumes, 8vo.; of 
 which a second edition was printed in 1745, 
 with improvements and additions, the MS. 
 having been re-examined with great care, many 
 parts supplied and amended, and many pas- 
 sages transferred to their proper places.
 
 LELAND. 
 
 Leland, in his description of the kingdom, 
 has restored the ancient names of places in 
 Britain. The antiquities and civil history of 
 the nation, are comprised in fifty books, cor- 
 responding with the then number of shires in 
 England and Wales. The survey of the Bri- 
 tish Isles, is contained in six books ; and fi- 
 nally, an account of the nobility of Britain in 
 tbree; agreeably to his own account above ex- 
 tracted. 
 
 5. Johanni Lelandi Antiquarii de Rebus Bri- 
 tannicus Collectanea. Ex Autographis Descrip- 
 sit ediditque Tho. Hearne, A. M. Oxoniensis, qui 
 et appendicem subjecit, totumque opus, (in 6 vo- 
 lumina distiibutum,) notis et indice donavit, 
 Oxon. 1715, Svo. 
 
 6. Codrus, size Lam et Defensio Gallofridi 
 Arturii Monumetensis, contra Polydorum Firgi- 
 llum. A defence of Geoffrey of Monmouth, 
 against Polydore Virgil. Printed in the sixth 
 volume of the " Collectanea" 
 
 A few other pieces of Leland in MS. are 
 reposited in the Cottonian and other libra- 
 ries. Various others are likewise ascribed to 
 him by Bale and Pits, which had probably ne- 
 ver any existence. The works of Leland fur- 
 nish a fountain whence all succeeding antiqua-
 
 LELAND. 407 
 
 ries have largely drawn. Among these may be 
 particularly enumerated Bale, in his Catalogue 
 of English Writers ; Camden,in his Britannia; 
 Burton, in his Description of Leicestershire ; 
 and sir W. Dugdale, in his Antiquities of 
 Warwickshire. 
 
 Leland, in addition to his eminence as an 
 antiquarian, is said to have been a master iiji 
 poetry and oratory ; but this encomium is con- 
 ferred by Bale, a brother antiquarian, who 
 moreover affirms, (probably with more truth,) 
 " that England never saw, and he believed, ne- 
 ver would see, a man to him in all things to 
 be compared, (in respect of antiquities,) for 
 undoubtedly he was in these matters, wonder- 
 ful and peerless, so that as concerning them, 
 England had yet never a greater loss,"
 
 ( 408 ) 
 
 * 
 
 HJRDING, 
 
 JOHN HAHDING, armiger, was nobly descend- 
 ed, and born somewhere in the north of Eng- 
 land ; though the particular time of his birth 
 is not specified by Bale, who is my authority 
 for these few particulars. lie first served, in 
 his military capacity, under Robert Umfreville ; 
 then under the duke of York, afterwards Ed- 
 ward IV. of England. The precise time of his 
 death seems to be also unknown ; but he was 
 living, an old man, about the beginning of 
 Edward's reign, or in 1461. 
 
 He was author of a metrical history of Eng- 
 land, from its fabulous origin to the com- 
 mencement of the reign of that prince, to 
 whom it was dedicated. His narrative is very 
 succinct to the time of Henry IV. but after- 
 wards becomes .more copious. The work was
 
 HARDING. 409 
 
 printed by Grafton, in 1543, with a continua- 
 tion in prose, (whether by himself does not ap- 
 pear,) to the close of the reign of Henry VII. 
 with the following title : " The Chronicle of 
 John Harding, from the first beginning of 
 England, unto the reign of king Edward IV^ 
 where he made an end of his Chronicle ; and 
 from that time is added a continuation of the 
 story in prose, to this our time. Now first im- 
 printed, gathered out of_divers and sundry au- 
 thors that have written of the affairs of Eng- 
 land. Mense Januarii" 
 
 This Chronicle should perhaps have been ar- 
 ranged in Edward IV. 's reign, in which it seems 
 at least to have been finished, and particu- 
 larly as I have selected a short extract from the 
 metrical, rather than the prose narrative. But 
 there, it would have somewhat interfered with 
 the books printed by Caxton, and the prose 
 continuation belongs decidedly to jthis reign. 
 
 The following brief specimen of this histo- 
 rical versifier, has some antiquarian curiosity, as 
 many readers will be able to connect it with 
 local associations :
 
 410 HARDING. 
 
 Chap. 41. 
 
 Litd, king of Britain, builded from London Stone to 
 Ludgate, and called that part Lud's Town ; and af- 
 ter, by process, was called London, by turning of 
 tongues. 
 
 This son and heir was Lud of much might, 
 
 Then crowned by all baronage ; 
 
 His cities all eke his heritage, castles wight 
 
 He did repair .that were his heritage. 
 
 And where was worthy his service and homage 
 
 To him was done, in lands all about 
 
 Was none withstood, so was he dread and dout. 
 
 With walls fair, and towers fresh about, 
 His city great of Troynovant full fair, 
 Full well he made and battelled thoughout, 
 And palace fair for royals to appear ; 
 Amending other defective and unfair, 
 From London Stane to his palace royal, 
 That now Ludgate is knowen over all.
 
 HARDING. 411 
 
 Between London Stone and Ludgate forthright, 
 That called was then for his name Ludstone, 
 He made men build, that London so then hight. 
 His palace fair, then made he there anon, 
 With towers high, both of lime and stone, 
 Beside Ludgate ; and his temple near thereby j 
 His God to serve, and him to glorify. 
 
 When he had reigned by forty year all out> 
 He died so, and in his temple fair 
 Entombed was, with stories all about. 
 Androgens was then his son and heir, 
 Passing of sight and July fair; 
 Tenancius, his younger son of age, 
 Which were too young to rule the heritage. 
 
 Cassibalayn, their uncle, then was king, 
 And found his nephews full honestly and well, 
 And nurtured them while they were children ying; 
 And at their age when they could reason feel, 
 He them avanced right worshipfully and well. 
 Androge he made and created duke of Kent. 
 Of Troynovant also by whole entent.
 
 412 HARDING. 
 
 The immediate predecessor of Lud, was 
 Hely, who 
 
 The isle of Hely made ; 
 His palace gay that might right well suffice, 
 He builded there, that was both long and brade, 
 Wherein he dwelled much and most abide. 
 
 The continuation commences,* (as before ob- 
 served,) with the reign of Edward IV. and ter- 
 minates with that of Henry VII. though there 
 are two pages with the title of " Reign of Hen- 
 ry VIII." which speak generally of the princi- 
 pal acts of that prince ; and particularly of his 
 tf dissolving and suppressing all counterfeit 
 sects and false religions ;" so that the continu- 
 ation must have been written late in this 
 reign. 
 
 Harding had an inveterate enmity to the 
 Scots, against whom he had carried arms in 
 several expeditions. He was anxious to prove 
 their ancient vassalage to the crown of 'Eng- 
 land, and with this view ransacked all the old 
 Chronicles he could meet with. Not content 
 with this, hearing of the existence of an anci- 
 ent record in Scotland, which placed the mat-
 
 HARDING. 413 
 
 ter beyond dispute, he undertook a perilous 
 journey thither in disguise, and after much 
 difficulty, bore it off in triumph ; exhibiting 
 it successively to Henry V. and VI, and lastly 
 to Edward IV.
 
 ( 414 ) 
 
 HALL. 
 
 EDWARD HALL was born in London, (in 
 what year is not recorded,) and educated at 
 Eton school ; whence he was removed to 
 King's College, Cambridge, and subsequently 
 entered as student at Gray's Inn. Fuller says 
 that he became common sergeant (by which he 
 probably means recorder,) of London ; for his 
 exemplary conduct in which office, he was af- 
 terwards advanced to be one of the judges in 
 the Sheriff's Court. He died at a very ad- 
 vanced age in 1547. 
 
 Hall compiled a Chronicle of the wars be- 
 tween the two Roses, entitled " The Union 
 of the two noble and illustre families of Lan- 
 caster and York, being long in continual dis- 
 sention for the crown of this noble realm, with 
 all the acts done in both the times of the 
 princes, both of the one lineage and of the
 
 HALL. 415 
 
 other ; beginning at the time of king Henry 
 IV. the first author of this divison, and so suc- 
 cessively proceeding, to the reign of the high 
 and prudent prince, king Henry VIII. the 'in- 
 duhitate flower, and very heir of both the said 
 lineages : whereunto is added to every king a 
 several table." The work is dedicated to Hen- 
 ry VIII. and was printed by Grafton in 1548 ; 
 also in 1550. 
 
 The following is a list of his authorities. 
 
 LATIN AUTHORS. 
 
 1. Polychronicon. 2. Cronica Cronicarwn. 
 3. Nauclerus. 4. Polydorus. 6. Paulus Mmi- 
 lius. 6. Voluteranus. 7. Gauguinus. 8. Al- 
 bertus Krantz. 9- Michael Ricius. 10. Hector 
 Boetius. 11. Johannes Major. 12. Abbas* 
 Wysscnbergensis. 13* Carion. 14. Supp/imen- 
 tum Cronicarum. 15. Gesta Tholosanorum. 1C. 
 Cronica Brabancie. 
 
 FRENCH AUTHORS. 
 
 l.Enqtierant de Munst relief. 2. Jean Bu- 
 cket. 3. Jean Mayer de, Belget. 4. Argenton. 
 5. Le Mere des Histories. 6. Les Annales de
 
 416 MALL. 
 
 France. 7- Les Annales de Aquitayne. 8. 
 Les Croniqz de Britai/ne. 9- Giles Corozett. 
 10. Les Crojiiques de Normandi. 1 1 . Le Jlo- 
 sarie. 12. Le Genoltfgie des Roys. 
 
 ENGLISH WRITERS. 
 
 1. Trevisa. 2. Fabian. 3. Sir Thomas More. 
 \ 
 
 4. Caxton. '5. John Harding. 6. The Chro- 
 nicles of London. 7- John Basset. 8. Balan- 
 tyne; and " divers other pamphlets, the name* 
 of whom are to most men unknovven." 
 
 In an advertisement to the reader, Grafton 
 informs us that Hall carried his history no far- 
 ther than the 24th year of Henry VIII. " The 
 rest, (says he,) he left noted in divers and many 
 pamphlets and papers, which so diligently 
 and truly as I could, I gathered the same to- 
 gether, and have in such wise compiled them, 
 as may after the said years appear in this work ; 
 but utterly without any addition of mine." 
 
 " The names of the histories contained in 
 this volume." 
 
 ]. An introduction into the division of the 
 two houses of Lancaster and York. 2. The 
 unquiet time of king Henry IV. 3. The victo- 
 rious acts of king Henry V. 4. The troublous 
 season of Henry VI. 5. The prosperous reign
 
 . 
 
 HALL/ 417 
 
 of king Edward IV. 6. The pitiful life of king 
 Edward V. 7. The tragical doings of king 
 Richard III. 8* The politic governance of 
 king Henry VII. 9. The triumphant reign of 
 king Henry VIII. 
 
 The passage which follows, presents the rea- 
 der with a specimen of the youthful diversions 
 of Henry : >- 
 
 On May Day then next following, in the second 
 year of his reign, his grace being young, and willing 
 not>-to be idle, rose in the morning very early to 
 fetch may, or green boughs, himself fresh and richly 
 apparelled ; and clothed all his knights, squires, and 
 gentlemen in white satin ; and all his guard and yeo- 
 men of the crown in white sarsenet ; and so went 
 every man with his bow and arrows shooting to the 
 wood ; and so repaired again to the court, every man 
 with a green bough in his cap ; and at his returning, 
 many hearing of his going a-maying, were desirous 
 to see him shoot : for at that time his grace shot as 
 strong, and as great a length, as any of his guard. 
 There came to his grace a certain man with bow and 
 arrows, and desired his grace to take the master 
 of him, and to see him shoot : for at that time his 
 grace was contented. The man put his one foot iu 
 his bosom, and so did shoot, and shot a very good 
 
 VOL, I. EC
 
 418 HALL. 
 
 shot, and well towards his mark ; whereof not only 
 his grace, but all other greatly marvelled. So the 
 king gave him a reward for his so doing, which per- 
 son afterwards, of the people and of them in the 
 court, was called Foot-in-bosom. 
 
 The same year, in the feast of Pentecost, holden at 
 Greenwich, that is to say, the Thursday in the same 
 week, his grace, with two other with him, challenged 
 all comers to fight with them at the barriers, with 
 target and casting of the spear of eight foot ; and 
 that done, his grace, with the said two aids, to fight 
 every of them with two-handed swords, with and 
 against all comers, (none except being a gentleman,) 
 where the king behaved himbelf so well, and deli- 
 vered himself so valiantly, by his hardy prowess and 
 great strength, that the praise and laud was given to 
 his grace, and his aids ; notwithstanding that divers 
 valiant and strong persons had assailed him and his 
 aids. 
 
 From thence the whole court removed to Windsor, 
 then beginning his progress, exercising himself daily 
 in shooting, singing, dancing, wrestling, casting o'f 
 the bar, playing at the recorders, flute, virginals, 
 and in setting of songs, making of balettes ; and did 
 set two goodly masses, every of them five parts, 
 which were sung oftentimes in his chapel, and after- 
 wards in divers other places. And when he cam6 
 to Oaking, there were kept both justs and tourneys.
 
 HALL. 419 
 
 The rest of his progress was spent in hunting, hawk- 
 ing, and shooting. 
 
 * *' # * * * 
 
 The said progress finished, his grace, the queen, 
 with all their whole train, in the month of October 
 following, removed to Greenwich. The king not 
 minded to see young gentlemen unexpert in martial 
 feats, caused a place to be prepared, within the park 
 of Greenwich, for the queen and the ladies to stand 
 and see the fight with battle axes, that should be 
 done there ; where the king himself, armed, fought 
 with one Gyot, a gentleman of Almayne, a tall man, 
 and a good man of arms. And then after they had 
 done, they marched always two and two together, 
 and so did their feats and enterprises every man very 
 well. Albeit, if happened the Gyot to fight with sir 
 Edward Howard, which Gyot was by him stricken to 
 the ground. 
 
 The morrow after this enterprise done, the king, 
 with the queen, came to the Tower of London. And to 
 the entent that there should be no displeasure nor 
 malice be borne by any of those gentlemen which 
 fought with the axe against other, the king gave un- 
 to them a certain sum in gold, valued at 200 mark, 
 to make a banquet among themselves withal. The 
 which banquet was made at the Fishmongers-hall, 
 in Thames-street, where they all met to the number 
 of twenty-four, all apparelled in one suit or livery, 
 E e 2
 
 4CO HALL. 
 
 after Almayne fashion, that is to say, their utter gar- 
 ments all of yellow satin, yellow hosen, yellow 
 shoes, girdles, scabbards, and bonnets, with yelftw 
 feathers ; their garments and hosen all cut and 
 lined with white satin, and their scabbards wound 
 about with satin. After their banquet ended, they 
 went by torch-light to the Tower, presenting them- 
 selves before the king, who took pleasure to behold 
 them. 
 
 From thence, the 8th day of November, his grace 
 removed to Richmond, and willed to be declared to 
 all noblemen and gentlemen, that his grace, with 
 two aids, that is to wit, master Charles Brandon, 
 and master Compton, during two days, would an- 
 swer all comers with spear at the tilt one day, and at 
 tourney with swords, the other. 
 
 And to accomplish this enterprise, the 13th day 
 of November, his grace, armed at all pieces, with 
 his two aids, entered the field ; their bases and trap- 
 pers were of cloth of gold, set with red roses, in- 
 greyled with gold of brawdery. The counterpart 
 came in freshly, apparelled every man after his de- 
 vise. At these justs, the king brake more staves 
 than any other, and therefore had the price. At the 
 tourney in likewise, the honour was his. The se- 
 cond night were divers strangers of Maximilian, the 
 emperor's court, and ambassadors of Spain, with the 
 king at supper. When they had supped, the >ing
 
 HALL. 421 
 
 willed them to go into the queen's chamber, who so 
 did. And in the mean season, the king, with fif- 
 teen other, apparelled in Almayne jackets of Er- 
 mosyne, and purple satin, with long quartered ~sleeves, 
 with hosen of the same suit ; their honnets of white 
 velvet, wrapped in flat gold of damask, with visors 
 and white plumes, came in with a mummery; and 
 after a certain time that they had played with the 
 queen and the strangers, they departed. Then sud- 
 denly entered six minstrels, richly apparelled, playing 
 on their instruments ; and then followed fourteen 
 persons, gentlemen, all apparelled in yellow satin, 
 cut like Almaynes, bearing torches. After them 
 came six disguised in white satin and green, enbrou- 
 dercd and set with letters and castles of fine gold, in 
 bullion. The garments were of strange fashion, with 
 also strange cuts, every cut knit with points of fine 
 gold, and tassels of the same ; their hosen cut and 
 tied in likewise ; their bonnets of cloth of silver, 
 wound with gold. First of these six was the king, 
 the earl of Essex, Charles Brandon, sir Edward How- 
 ard, sir Thomas Knevet, and sir Henry Guilford. 
 Then part of the gentlemen bearing torches depart- 
 ed, and shortly returned ; after whom came in six 
 ladies, apparelled in garments of Ennosync, satin, 
 tnbroudcred, and traversed with cloth of gold, cut in 
 poinegranets and yokes, stringed after the fashion of 
 Spain. Then the said six men dancedj with these
 
 422 HALL. 
 
 six ladies ; and after that they had danced a season, 
 the ladies took off the men's visors, whereby they 
 were knowen : whereof the queen and the strangers 
 much praised the king, and ended the pastime. 
 
 This will suffice for a specimen of the sort 
 of matter frequently to be found in this 
 author. 
 
 Hall's Chronicle is one of the principal au- 
 thorities for that dark period of our history, 
 comprehending the wars between the Houses 
 of York and Lancaster. But his narrative, 
 (like those of his predecessor Fabian, and of 
 his successors, Grafton and Holinshed,) is dull 
 and tedious, often puerile. Nicholson says of 
 him " If the reader desires to know what 
 sort of clothes were worn in each king's reign, 
 and how the fashions altered, this is an histo- 
 rian to his purpose." It may be remarked, how- 
 ever, that all the ancient chroniclers derive no 
 small portion of their value to a modern rea- 
 der, from this minuteness of description rela- 
 tive to objects which would be disregarded by 
 modern historians, as degrading the dignity of 
 history : for it is by means of such descrip- 
 tions chiefly, that we are enabled to trace the
 
 HALL. 423 
 
 progress of manners, and to comprehend the 
 state of society in any given period. In this 
 view, we find some compensation for their 
 dullness and want of judgment.
 
 ( 424 ) 
 
 TYNDALE, COFERDALE, ROGERS, 
 
 Versions of the Bible. 
 
 TYNDALE. 
 
 JLHIS celebrated reformer was born on the 
 "borders of Wales, about the year 1500. At 
 the usual age, he entered at Magdalene Col- 
 lege, Oxford, where he early imbibed the te- 
 nets of Luther, and engaged with great zeal in 
 their propagation. He subsequently removed 
 to Cambridge, which he quitted to become an 
 
 inmate in the house of sir Welch, in 
 
 Glocestershire, in quality of tutor to his chil- 
 dren. Here he displayed such zeal for Luther, 
 and such enmity to the pope, that he was com- 
 pelled to quit his place of residence. 
 While he remained here, however, he trans-,
 
 TYNDALE. 425 
 
 J-ated into English, " Erasmus's Manual of a 
 Christian Soldier," with the view (as he says 
 himself,) of curing the vulgar error of men's 
 placing religion in ceremonies, and more than 
 Jewish observations of corporal things," &c. 
 As the history of this distinguished reformer 
 now hecomes interwoven with the brief histo- 
 rical narrative I am about to give of the trans- 
 lations of the Bible, I shall say nothing more 
 of him in this place. 
 
 Versions of the Bible. 
 
 About twenty-four years after the death of 
 Wicliffe, archbishop Arundel, in a convoca- 
 tion of the clergy of his province assembled at 
 Oxford, published a constitution, by which it 
 was decreed, " that no one should thereafter 
 translate any text of Holy Scripture into Eng- 
 lish, by way of a book, a little book, or tract ; 
 and that no book, &c. of this kind should be 
 read that was composed lately in the time of 
 John Wicliffe, or since his death." 
 
 The Latin Bible, or Vulgate, was first print- 
 ed in 1462, and by several succeeding edi-
 
 426 TYNDALE. 
 
 tions, soon became common. The Old Testa- 
 ment, in Hebrew, was first printed in 1488 ; 
 and the New Testament at Basil, in its origi- 
 nal Greek, about thirty years after. When 
 these sacred oracles were brought into Eng- 
 land, with the introduction of printing, the il- 
 literate and terrified monks declaimed from 
 their pulpits, that there was now a new lan- 
 guage discovered, called Greek, of which peo- 
 ple should beware, since it was that which 
 produced all the heresies; that in this lan- 
 guage was come forth a book called the New 
 Testament, which was now in every body's 
 hands, and was full of thorns and briars ; that 
 there was also another language now started 
 up, which they called Hebrew, and that they 
 vrho learned it were turned Hebrews. 
 
 About this time, the vicar of Croydon, in 
 Surry, in a sermon preached at Paul's Cross, 
 is said to have declared, with prophetic wis- 
 dom, " We must root out printing, or print- 
 ing will root out us." 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the clamours of 
 the monks, and persecutions of the secular 
 clergy, William Tyndale, in the reign of Hen- 
 ry V1IL undertook to translate the Scriptures 
 from the original Hebrew and Greek, into
 
 TYNDALE. 427 
 
 English ; though he was convinced, from the 
 circumstances of the times, that the under- 
 taking would be accomplished at the hazard of 
 his life. That he might prosecute his design 
 in greater security, he made an attempt, 
 through the interest of sir Henry Guildford, 
 master of horse to the king, and a warm pa- 
 tron of learned men, to be admitted into the fa- 
 mily of Tonstal, lately promoted to the see of 
 London. But his application proving unsuc- 
 cessful, and still contemplating his favourite 
 object with ardent enthusiasm, he resolved to 
 go abroad. To accomplish which purpose, he 
 was allowed an annuity of ten pounds a year 
 by Humprey Monmouth, a wealthy citizen, 
 and a favourer of the reformation ; and at Ant- 
 werp, in Flanders, he prosecuted his design 
 with great assiduity. John Fry and William 
 Itoye, who acted as amanuenses for him, also 
 assisted him in collating texts ; and the New 
 Testament was finished in 15C6, of which one 
 thousand five hundred copies were printed, 
 but without a name. This edition, by Tyn- 
 dale's own acknowledgment, had considerable 
 errors ; but it sold so rapidly, that the follow- 
 ing year another edition was published by the 
 .Dutch printers, and the year after, another,
 
 each consisting of five thousand copies. Great 
 numbers of these were imported into England, 
 and the whole speedily sold. The importers, 
 however, were prosecuted with great, though 
 often ludicrous severity. To give an instance 
 John Tyndale, the translator's brother, and 
 Thomas Patmore, merchants, were condemned 
 to do penance, by riding with their faces to 
 their horses' tails, with the books fastened thick 
 about them, pinned or tacked to their gowns 
 or cloaks, to the standard in Cheap, and there, 
 with their own hands, to fling them into the 
 fire kindled on purpose to burn them. 
 
 But the zeal of the reformers surmounted 
 every obstacle, and the New Testament of this 
 translation, continued to be imported and read ; 
 a fact which is proved from the sale of the 
 three editions before mentioned, before the 
 year 1530, when a third Dutch edition was 
 printed. 
 
 Meanwhile Tyndale was diligently occupied 
 in translating from the Hebrew the five books 
 of Moses ; and having finished his translation, 
 he was shipwrecked on his voyage to Ham- 
 burgh, (undertaken in order to print it,) the 
 manuscript lost, and he was obliged to begin all 
 3new. From this accident, the Old Testament
 
 TYNDALE. 
 
 did not appear in an English dress till the year 
 1.530. In this year too, being now at leisure, 
 Tyndale published his, " Answer unto sir Tho- 
 mas More's Dialogue." 
 
 In 1534, a fourth Dutch edition of Tyndale's 
 New Testament was printed, in 12mo, a copy 
 of which is in lord Pembroke's library ; and 
 about three months after was published, his se- 
 cond edition of the New Testament, in the 
 whole, the sixth, carefully corrected. Before 
 this edition was quite printed, Tyndale was be- 
 trayed ; and being apprehended by the of- 
 ficers of the emperor, was confined a close 
 prisoner in the castle of Tilford, about eigh- 
 teen miles from Antwerp, where he remained 
 during a year and half. The English mer- 
 chants exerted themselves to their utmost to re- 
 lease him ; and letters from lord Cromwell and 
 others, were dispatched from England to coun- 
 tenance and assist their endeavours ; but by 
 the activity of Philips, the agent of the catho- 
 lics for that purpose, he was hurried to a 
 trial, condemned, and publicly executed in 
 3535, being first strangled., and then burnt to 
 ashes.
 
 430 COVERDALB. 
 
 Several other editions of his corrected co- 
 py of the New Testament, were given to the 
 public in the year of his martyrdom. 
 
 COVERDALE. 
 
 The next translator of the Scriptures was 
 Miles Coverdale, a native of Yorkshire, who 
 was subsequently professed of the house of 
 Austin Friars, in Cambridge, of which Dr. 
 Barnes, who was burnt for heresy, was prior. 
 Having incurred danger by embracing the 
 same heretical opinions, he fled his country, 
 and employed himself with zealous diligence 
 in the study and translation of the Scriptures. 
 Accordingly, in the year 1535, a translation of 
 the whole Bible appeared, dedicated to the 
 king. In this dedication he tells his majesty, 
 that " The blind bishop of Rome no more 
 knew what he did when he gave him this title, 
 ' Defender of the Faith/ than the Jewish bi- 
 shop Caiaphas, when he prophesied that it was 
 better to put Christ to death, than that all the 
 people should perish ; that the pope gave him
 
 COVEHDALE. 431 
 
 this title, only because his highness suffered 
 him to burn God's word, the root of faith, and 
 to persecute the lovers and ministers of itj 
 whereas in very deed he prophesied, that by 
 the righteous administration of his grace, the 
 faith should be so defended, that God's word, 
 the mother of faith, should have its free course 
 thorow all Christendom, but especially in his 
 grace's realm ; that his grace, in very deed, 
 should defend the faith, yea even the true 
 faith of Christ ; no dreams, no fables, no he- 
 resy, no papistical inventions; but the uncor- 
 rupt faith of God's most holy word, which, to 
 set forth, his highness, with his most honour- 
 able council, applied all study and endea- 
 vour." 
 
 In executing his version, Coverdale informs 
 us, that he made use of five different interpre- 
 ters, who had translated the Scriptures not on- 
 ly into Latin, but also intp Dutch. He stiles 
 it a " Special Translation," to distinguish it 
 from the translations which preceded it. This 
 will be most apparent by the comparison of 
 a passage of this with the version of Tyn- 
 dale.
 
 438 COVERDALE. 
 
 Tyndale. 
 Gen. 29. 
 
 \Vhon the Lord saw that Lea was despised, he 
 made her fruitful, but Rahel barren. And Lea con- 
 ceived and bare e. son, arid called his name Ruben : 
 for she said, the Lord hath looked upon my tribula- 
 tion. And now my husband will love me. 
 
 Coverdale. 
 
 ^ 
 
 But when the Lord saw that Lea was nothing re- 
 garded, he made her fruitful, and Rachel barren. 
 And Lea conceived and bare a son, whom she called 
 Ruben, and said, the Lord hath looked upon mine 
 adversity. Now will my husband love me. 
 
 There was another edition of this Bible, 4to. 
 in 155O, republished with a new title in 1553, 
 which are supposed by Lewis to be the only 
 editions of this version. 
 
 H 
 
 The clergy affected not to approve this ver- 
 sion of Tyndale and Coverdale; and accord- 
 ingly, in a convocation of the province of 
 Canterbury, held June 9th, 1536, they agreed 
 upon a form of petition to the king, that he
 
 COVERDALE. 435 
 
 Would graciously indulge unto his subjects of 
 the laity, the reading of the Bible in the Eng- 
 lish tongue, and that a new translation of it 
 might be forthwith made for that end and pur- 
 pose. Still there is reason to conclude that it 
 was licensed by the king : for soon after it was 
 finished, were published by lord Cromwell, 
 keeper of the privy seal, and vicegerent to 
 the king) for and concerning all his jurisdic- 
 tion ecclesiastical within his realm, " injunc- 
 tions to the clergy, by the authority of the king's' 
 highness," of which the seventh orders 
 
 " That every person or proprietary of any 
 parish church wifhin this realm, shall on this 
 side the feast of St. Peter, ad vincula > Aug. 1, 
 next coming, provide a book of the whole 
 Bible, both in Latin, and alsoKn English, and 
 lay the same in the quire, for every man that 
 will to look and read thereon : and shall dis- 
 courage no man from the reading any part of 
 the Bible, either in Latin or English, but ra- 
 ther comfort, exhort, and admonish every 
 man to read the same as the very word of 
 God, and the spiritual food of man's soul, 
 whereby they may the better know their duties 
 to God, to their sovereign lord the king, and 
 their neighbour; ever gently and charitably 
 
 VOL. i. jpf
 
 434 COVERDALE. 
 
 exhorting them, that using a sober and modest 
 behaviour in the reading and inquisition of the 
 true sense of the same, they do in no wise stiff- 
 ly or eagerly contend or strive one with ano- 
 ther about the same, but refer the declaration 
 of those places that be in controversy, to the 
 judgment of them that be better learned." 
 
 In 1537, appeared another edition of the 
 English Bible, in folio, with the following 
 title ; 
 
 Matthew's Bible. 
 
 The Bible, which is all the Holy Scripture, in 
 which are contained the Old and New Testa- 
 ment, truly and purely translated inio English, 
 by Thomas Matthew. This edition is to be 
 found in the earl of Pembroke's library, and is 
 said to have been a second edition of Cover- 
 dale's Bible, prepared by John Rogers. It 
 was printed somewhere abroad by Grafton, 
 perhaps at Marsburgh, in Hessia; or at Paris; 
 since Francis I. granted a license to him and 
 Edward Whitchurch, to print the English Bible 
 in that city* Of thisedition Grafton presented 
 six copies to archbishop Cranmer, and the lord 
 Cromwell. It has been observed of this Bible, 
 by Mr. Wanley, that " to the end of the book
 
 C0VERDAL1S. 
 
 bf Chronicles, it is Tyndale's translation ; and 
 from thence to the end of the Apocrypha, Co- 
 verdale's; and that the whole New Testament 
 is Tyndale's." Lewis remarks^ that the pro- 
 phecy of Jonas is also Tyndale's ; since his pro- 
 logue is prefixed, and since it is precisely the 
 same as that in Coverdale's Bible. This Bible 
 also obtained the ro'yal license through the in- 
 strumentality of Cranmer, then archbishop of 
 Canterbury. As this translation was made by 
 several different hands, the title of Matthew 
 seems to be fictitious. The following is, a speci- 
 men of this version : 
 
 And it came to pass, when men began to multiply 
 upon the earth, and had begot them daughters, the 
 sons of God saw the daughters of men that they 
 were fair, and took unto them wives which they 
 best liked among them all. And the Lord said, My 
 spirit shall not alway strive with man : for they are 
 flesh. Nevertheless, I will give them yet space, 
 
 There were tyrants in the world in those days ; 
 for, after 1 that the children of God had gone in unto 
 the daughters of men, and had begotten them chil- 
 dren, the same children were the mightiest of the 
 world, and men of renown. And when the Lord 
 saw the wickedness of man was increased upon the 
 earth, and that all the imagination and thoughts of 
 Ff'2
 
 436 COVERDALE. 
 
 his heart was only evil continually, he repented that 
 he had made man upon the earth, and sorrowed in 
 his heart. And said, I will destroy mankind which I 
 have made, from off the face of the earth, both man., 
 beast, worm, and fowl of the air : for it repenteth me 
 that I have made them. (Genesis, chap. 6.) 
 
 From this specimen it will be seen, how 
 comparatively little alteration has been made 
 in the version now in common use. 
 
 In the year 1538, was printed the New Tes- 
 tament, in 4to. in Latin and English, " each 
 correspondent to the other after the vulgar 
 text commonly called St. Jerome's, faithfully 
 translated by Johan Hollybushe." This, how- 
 ever, is Coverdale's New Testament, which he 
 permitted Hollybushe to print. The next year 
 another edition of it was printed, and dedicated 
 to lord Cromwell. The former edition is in 
 St. Paul's library. 
 
 In 1539, was printed 
 
 Cranmer's, or The Great Bible, 
 
 In a large folio, with the following title; 
 The Bible in English ; that is to say, the con-
 
 COVERDALE. 43? 
 
 tent of all the Holy Scripture, both of the Old 
 and New Testament, truly translated after the 
 verity of the Hebrew and Greek texts, by the 
 diligent study of divers excellent learned men, 
 expert in the foresaid tongues. In this edition, 
 Matthew's Bible was revised, and various al- 
 terations and corrections made. The addi- 
 tions to the Hebrew and Greek originals in the 
 Latin Vulgate, were translated, and inserted 
 in a smaller letter than the text. A second 
 edition of this Bible was printed either the 
 same, or the next year, by Edward Whit- 
 church ; and also another by Richard Taver- 
 ner, " newly recognised with great diligence, 
 after most faithful exemplars." 
 
 The same year, 1540, was printed another 
 edition of the English Bible in folio, by Thomas, 
 archbishop of Canterbury, with a prologue. 
 This is the Bible which was then appointed to 
 the use of the churches. In May of the same 
 year was issued a royal proclamation, by which 
 the curates and parishioners of every parish were 
 required, under the penalty of 40s. a month 
 while not in possession of it, to provide them- 
 selves with a copy of the largest size of this 
 Bible, before All Saint's Day next ensuing. 
 The price was also set by royal authority, viz.
 
 438 COVERDALE. 
 
 ten shillings unbound, and not exceeding 
 twelve shillings well bound and clasped. 
 
 In consonance with this proclamation, Bon-r 
 ner, bishop of London, set up six Bibles in dif- 
 ferent places of his cathedral, with an admo- 
 nition attached to the pillars, to the following 
 effect : "That whosoever came thither to read, 
 should prepare himself to be edified and made 
 the better thereby; that he should join therein 
 to his readiness to obey the king's injunctions 
 made in that behalf ; that he bring with him 
 discretion, honest intent, charity, reverence, 
 and quiet behaviour; that there should no 
 such number meet together as to make a mul- 
 titude ; that no exposition be made thereupon, 
 but what is declared in the book itself; and 
 that it be not read with noise in time of divine 
 service, nor that any disputation or contention 
 be used at it." The priests or ministers, it 
 seems, were not yet required to read it to the 
 people. 
 
 The same year, 1540, another edition was 
 printed at London, by Thomas Petyt and Ro- 
 bert Redman, for Thomas Berthelet, " printer 
 unto the king's grace." A beautiful copy of 
 this edition, printed on vellum, and finely illu- 
 minated, is in the king's library.
 
 COVERDALE. 439 
 
 On the 6th of May, 1541, the king issued a 
 decree, that the great volume of the Bible 
 should be set up in every parish church in 
 England ; by which all the curates and pa- 
 rishioners throughout the kingdom, not already 
 furnished with Bibles, were commanded to 
 procure them before Allhallows next ensuing, 
 and to cause them to be placed conveniently 
 in their respective churches ; and all the bi- 
 shops and ordinaries were strictly required to 
 take especial care to see the said .commands 
 put in execution. 
 
 Still the execution of these decrees was re- 
 tarded by the clergy with a malicious perverse- 
 ness. It appears from a small tract entitled 
 " The Supplication of the Commons," that the 
 Bibles in the parish churches, which should 
 have been left free of access to every one, were 
 industriously conveyed into the choir, or into 
 some pew, where the vulgar presumed not to 
 enter ; that a considerable number of churches 
 had no Bible at all j that the clergy, not sa- 
 tisfied with thus depriving the poor of spiritual 
 food, did not rest till they had obtained an or- 
 der from the king, that no person, of whatever 
 jrank, should be allowed to read the Scriptures in 
 he time of divine service ; and that afterwards,
 
 440 x COVERDALE. 
 
 when a proclamation was issued for the burning 
 of certain translations of the New Testament, they 
 were so audacious as to burn the whole Bible, 
 because it was translated by heretics ; lastly, 
 that they intreated his majesty to call in the 
 Bible again, on the insidious plea, " that it 
 was not faithfully translated in all parts," pro- 
 mising, that themselves would superintend a 
 new translation, which was to be published 
 again within seven years. 
 
 ^From this representation, the king finally ap- 
 pointed two bishops, Tonstal, bishop of Dur- 
 ham, and Heath, bishop of Rochester, to su- 
 perintend the translation of the Bible ; who de- 
 clared, (< they had done his highness's com- 
 mandment therein," and actually set their 
 names to it, though they afterwards denied 
 they had any concern in it, and caused the 
 printer to erase their names ; reporting to the 
 world, that Thomas Cromwell, late earl of Es- 
 sex, " was the chief doer, or the principal ac- 
 tor in authorising the English Bible, and not 
 the king, but as led by him ;" and therefore, 
 that the Bible ' ( was of a traitor's setting forth, 
 and not of the king's." 
 
 The king being resolved that the Scriptures 
 should continue to be read in the vulgar
 
 COVERDALE. 441 
 
 tongue, the clergy durst not oppose his will 
 directly ; but by a subtlety of proceeding truly 
 catholic, they succeeded in undermining his 
 resolution. The translation of Tyndale and 
 Coverdale, was charged by them with number- 
 less errors, both philological as well as here- 
 tical; they represented to his majesty, that 
 the permission of the free and general use of 
 the Scriptures, served only to excite contro- 
 versy, and augment faction; that as a, proof 
 of this, the people, instead of being edified by 
 what they read, did nothing but dispute in ta- 
 verns and alehouses, branding one another re- 
 ciprocally with the names of papist and here- 
 tic ; that others read so loud in the churches, 
 as to disturb the congregation ; and that thus 
 the peace of his kingdom was destroyed by the 
 continuance of this new privilege. 
 
 A revision of the translation of the New 
 Testament, was now projected by the arch- 
 bishop, in convocation, and a particular por- 
 tion assigned to a certain number of bishops 
 respectively ; but this revision was never ac- 
 complished, nor designed to be accomplished. 
 The clergy wanted only to gain time, that they 
 might be able to supersede all translations, and. 
 reduce the people to their former state of dark*
 
 442 COVilRDALE. 
 
 ness and degradation. They amused themselves 
 therefore with idle disputes about the proprie- 
 ty of translating certain Latin words such as 
 fcclesia, myslerium, fyc. of which Gardiner pro- 
 duced a catalogue of 99, which he seemed to 
 think too sacred for prophane understandings. 
 Thus a translation, conducted according to 
 this method of exclusion, would have heen 
 useless when made. This idea was suggested 
 to the king by Cranrner, who was permitted to 
 communicate to the convocation his majesty's 
 pleasure, that the proposed revision should be 
 declined, and the matter referred to the two 
 universities. 
 
 But notwithstanding this prohibition, in the 
 parliament which met 22d January, this year, 
 1543, the popish faction prevailed, and caused 
 an act to be passed, condemning Tyndale's 
 translation as crafty, false, and untrue, and 
 enacting, that " All manner of books of the 
 Old and New Testament in English, of this 
 translation, should be, by authority of this act, 
 clearly and utterly abolished, extinguished,, 
 and forbidden to be kept and used in this 
 realm, or elsewhere, in any of the king's do- 
 minions." The prohibition, however, did not 
 extend to translations which were not Tyn-
 
 COVERDALE. 443 
 
 dale's, though it was expressly enjoined that 
 all annotations or preambles should be obli*- 
 terated in all Bibles, under penalty of forfeiting 
 40s. for each Bible thus glossed, 
 
 On the passing of this act, the following re- 
 mark was found made in a spare leaf of fin 
 English abridgment of Polydore Virgil's book 
 (e Of the Invention of Arts," by a poor shep- 
 herd, and which he bought about this time, 
 1546 : " When I kepe Mr. Letymer's shype, I 
 bout thys boke, when the Testament was ob- 
 beragatyd, that shepeherdys might not rede 
 hit; 1 prey God amende that blyndnes. Wryt 
 by Robert Wyllyams, keppyng shepe upon 
 Seynbury Hill, 1540." 
 
 The king, being continually disquieted by 
 complaints from the clergy, of the ill use the 
 people made of their privilege to read the 
 Scriptures, issued, in the last year of his reign, 
 a proclamation, prohibiting Coverdale's, as 
 well as Tyndale's version, as likewise the use of 
 any other than what was allowed by parliament. 
 This act was repealed at the commencement of 
 the following reign. 
 
 It is a common opinion, that the Old and 
 New Testament were translated by Tyndale 
 and Covcrdale ; and the Apocrypha by John
 
 444 ROGERS. 
 
 Rogers. But the Apocrypha in Matthew's Bi- 
 ble, as before observed, is precisely the same 
 version as that in Coverdale's ; and Coverdale 
 always speaks of the translation as his own, and 
 never gives the slightest intimation of his hav- 
 ing had any assistant. 
 
 JOHN ROGERS. 
 
 This reformer was educated at Cambridge, 
 where he took the degree of bachelor of arts 
 in 1525. The same year he was chosen junior 
 canon of Cardinal's College, now Christ- 
 church, Oxford. On his taking orders, he 
 
 
 
 was appointed chaplain to the English factory 
 at Antwerp, where he became acquainted with 
 Tyndale, by whom he was convinced of 
 the errors of popery. After his conversion, 
 he married, and removed to Wittenberg, in 
 Germany, where he became pastor of a con- 
 gregation, and, as some affirm, a superinten- 
 dant. It seems, that after Tyndale's death, 
 when a new edition of his Bible was projected, 
 with his prologues and notes, and which was fi- 
 nished in 153?., Rogers was applied to, to revise
 
 ROGERS. 445 
 
 fcnd prepare it for the press ; and that in the 
 course of this labour he made some alterations. 
 For example; Psalm ii, ver. 1. Coverdale has 
 it " Why do the heathen grudge f" which 
 Rogers has altered to " Why do the heathen 
 frown r" Rogers, therefore, having heen the 
 editor of Tyndale's and Coverdale's Bible, has 
 given rise to the opinion that he had a share in 
 'the translation. In JVTary's reign, after several 
 hearings, he was condemned to be burnt, by 
 the name of Rogers, alias Matthews, for the 
 crime of printing the Bible in question. His 
 martyrdom was distinguished by some of those 
 rememberable circumstances, which evinced 
 genius as well as faith. On the morning which 
 had been fixed for his execution, he was warn- 
 ed to prepare for death, before he rose. "If it 
 be so, (said he,) I need not tie my points." 
 During the whole of his confinement, Gardi- 
 ner would never suffer him to see his wife or 
 family. When he was fastened to the stake, 
 a pardon was proffered him, if he would recant ; 
 and she was then permitted to come to him, 
 with nine small children, and the tenth suck- 
 ing at her breast. This nothing moved him. 
 He washed his hands in thejfames, and so died 
 triumphantly, a blessed martyr. Abel Red. 1 68.
 
 440 BOGERS. 
 
 I shall say nothing of the numerous edition* 
 ami translations of the Scriptures, from the 
 time of Henry VIII. ; but close this account 
 by observing, that the Bible now read in our 
 churches, was translated in the reign of James 
 I. by an association of learned men from both 
 universities, by the express direction of that 
 prince*. 
 
 I have been thus copious in my account of 
 the several versions of the Scriptures, not sim- 
 ply to exhibit a picture of the theological opi- 
 nions and prejudices of this period, but because 
 those versions did more, perhaps, to fix the 
 language, than all other books put- together. 
 A similar effect was produced in Germany by 
 the German translations. They have trans- 
 mitted and perpetuated many ancient words, 
 which probably would otherwise have become 
 obsolete or unintelligible. It isjustly remark- 
 ed by Warton, that they contributed to en- 
 rich our native English, by importing and fa- 
 miliarising many Latin words ; particularly the 
 Latin derivative substantives, such as divina- 
 tion, perdition, adoption, manifestation, conso- 
 
 * A complete Catalogue of Bibles may be seen in Mr. Be- 
 loe's Anecdotes of Literature, recently published; vol. a, 
 p. Sii.
 
 ROGERS.. 447 
 
 lation, contribution, administration, consuna-< 
 mation, reconciliation, operation, communi-* 
 cation, retribution, preparation, immortality, 
 principality, &c. Sac. And in other words, 
 frustrate, inexcusable, transfigure, concupi- 
 scence, Sic. See. These words were obviously 
 suggested by the Latin Vulgate ; and at the 
 time must have been incomprehensible by the 
 bulk of the people, and even by many of the 
 first classes. Hence it appears that Gardiner 
 had little cause for his complaint, that the 
 translation was too clear ; and for his pro- 
 posal, that instead of always using English 
 phrases, many Latin terms should still be re- 
 tained, from the hypocritical plea of their in- 
 herent significance and dignity. 
 
 But there were effects which resulted from 
 the translation of the Bible still more impor- 
 tant than the fixing the language, but to which 
 that was necessarily precursive. Before the 
 Scriptures were in the vulgar tongue, the ig- 
 norance of the lower classes was scarcely one 
 remove above complete barbarism. They had 
 now an opportunity of exercising their ownjudg- 
 nients on the articles of their religious creed ; 
 and their frequent disputations on the meaning 
 of different texts, their comments, and evca
 
 448 ROGERS. 
 
 their quarrels about divine things all operated 
 as powerful stimulants to awaken their facul- 
 ties from the deep slumber which had oppress- 
 ed and degraded them. The humanizing in- 
 fluence, too, of Christianity, purified and ex- 
 alted their affections, while its doctrines in- 
 structed them in their duties, and its sanc- 
 tions urged to the practice of them. It were 
 futile to object that the lower classes of reli- 
 gionists, and even those of more cultivated 
 minds, blended the absurdest superstition, 
 both with their theoretical and practical the- 
 ology. This must necessarily be the case, till 
 the instruments of thought are sufficiently 
 sharpened and polished by use, to enable them 
 to separate the true from the false. With the 
 hope of eternal and inconceivable rewards on 
 one hand, and the prospect of unimagined and 
 ever-duriny; torment on the other tenets ren- 
 
 o 
 
 tiered operative by being brought home to the 
 feelings by faith their effect was great in pro- 
 portion as their motives were powerful. Hence, 
 among the early reformers, conscience was al- 
 most ouinipotent : for, though to avoid being 
 burnt alive, many of them recanted, yet the 
 horrors of remorse, more terrible than devour- 
 ing fire, caused many also to relapse into their
 
 ROGERS. 449 
 
 former heresies, and joyfully to embrace the 
 flames 'in which they were consumed. The 
 improvement of the public morals was the ne- 
 cessary consequence of this obedience t 
 duty. 
 
 VOL. i. 02:
 
 ( 450 
 
 LA TIMER, 
 
 Bishop of Worcester. 
 
 gained perhaps his greatest pub- 
 licity under the following reign ; though even 
 before the commencement of the present, he 
 had become distinguished, and had reached 
 his highest ecclesiastical dignity. He is pro- 
 perly found, therefore, at the close of this 
 reign. 
 
 He was born at Thirkesson, or Thurcaston, 
 in Leicestershire, about the year 1475. Being 
 an only son, and of quick parts, his father, a 
 respectable yeoman, resolved to make him a 
 scholar. His early years were spent at home. 
 and at the schools in the neighbourhood. At 
 the age of fourteen, he entered at Christ's Col- 
 lege, Cambridge ; and on taking his degree of 
 master of arts, he entered into priest's orders, 
 This was in the year 1500, when he began to 
 act a conspicuous part on the theatre of the 
 world.
 
 / LATIMER. 451 
 
 He was a zealous papist till the age of thirty ; 
 when, being converted to Lutheranism by Bil- 
 ney, (who was also a priest, and afterwards 
 burnt for heresy,) he began with great zeal to 
 propagate the opinions of the reformers. His 
 conversion took place in 1505 ; and about 
 three years after, he wa$ invited, through the 
 interest of Dr. Butts, the king's physician, to 
 court, which he soon quitted in disgust. He 
 obtained, in 159, the living of Westkinton, in 
 Wiltshire; and in 1554, was made chaplain 
 to the queen, Anne Boleyn, at her own request, 
 occasioned probably by the favorable repre- 
 sentations of the lord Cromwell and Dr. Butts. 
 In 1535, he was promoted by the king to the 
 bishopric of Worcester. 
 
 On the passing of the act of the six bloody 
 articles, Latimer's conscience recoiled at their 
 savage spirit, and he resigned his bishopric. 
 He could not refrain sometimes from express- 
 ing the abhorrence he felt ; for which an accu- 
 sation was finally laid against him, and he was 
 committed prisoner to the Tower, where he 
 remained till the death of Henry. He was 
 now released, and entered again on his minis- 
 terial function, but did not resume his epis- 
 copal dignity.
 
 452 LATIMER. 
 
 In. 1548, he was one of the commissioners 
 for trying and condemning Joan Bocher; 
 which seems to verify the imputation, that our 
 first reformers were no sooner freed from per- 
 secution, than they became persecutors. 
 
 During the reign of Edward VI. his zeal 
 was pre-eminent among his zealous cotempo- 
 raries, to spread the reformation ; and in con- 
 junction with Cranmer, was one of the princi- 
 pal instruments in effecting its establishment. 
 But in the persecutions of Mary, he was sin- 
 gled out as one of the most desired victims of 
 popish vengeance. He might have made his 
 Escape, and the opportunity which was given 
 him, seems to have been designed ; but Lati- 
 mer had the true spirit of a martyr ; he re- 
 fused, (and if such an epithet were applicable 
 to a saint;^) disdained to fly. On his reaching 
 London, and passing through Smithfield, he 
 remarked, that " Smithfield had long groaned 
 for him." He was burnt for heresy at Oxford, 
 on the 16th of October, 1555. 
 
 Latimer, a staff* in his hand, a pair of spec- 
 tacles hanging at his breast, and a Bible at his 
 girdle, walked to his trial, and probably to the 
 place of execution. When chained to the 
 stake, he called out to his fellow martyr, Rid-
 
 LATIMER. 453 
 
 ley, bishop of London, " Be of good cheer, 
 master Ridley, and play the man ; we shall 
 this day kindle such a torch in England, as I 
 trust in God, shall never be extinguished." 
 Two bags of gunpowder were fastened under 
 his arms, the explosion of which instantane- 
 ously deprived him of life. At this moment a 
 quantity of blood seemed to gush from his 
 heart, as if all the blood in his body had been, 
 there collected. The unhappy Ridley was 
 less fortunate. His extremities were consumed 
 to the trunk, before the fire affected his vitals, 
 and he died in lingering anguish. 
 
 The writings of Latimer consist chiefly of 
 sermons, of which forty were first published in 
 1570. These were reprinted in 1572, and 1635, 
 4to. There are also some letters of his still 
 extant, in Foxe's Acts and Monuments ; the 
 most remarkable and valuable of which is the 
 famous one addressed to Henry VIII. for re- 
 storing the free liberty of reading the Scrip- 
 tures. It is too long to be inserted entire, 
 particularly as it will be proper to exhibit a 
 specimen or two from his sermons ; but I shall 
 give the principal parts, and indeed the only 
 parts of much value. This letter was written 
 on occasion of the royal proclamation forbid-
 
 454 LATIMER. 
 
 ding the use of the Bible in English, with other 
 books on religious subjects. 
 
 To the most mighty Prince, King of England, Henry the 
 Eighth, grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Fa- 
 ther, by our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 The holy doctor St. Augustine, in an epistle which 
 he wrote to Casalanus, saith, that he which for 
 fear of any power hideth the truth, provoketh the 
 wrath of God to come upon him: for he feareth 
 ihen more than God. And according to the same, 
 the holy man St. John Chrysostome saith, that he is 
 not only a traitor to the truth, which openly for 
 truth teacheth a lie, but he also which doth not 
 freely pronounce and shew the truth that he know- 
 eth. These sentences, (most redoubted king,) when 
 I read now of late, and marked them earnestly in the 
 inward parts of mine heart, they made me sore 
 afraid, troubled, and vexed me grievously in my 
 conscience, and at the last drove me to this strait, 
 that either I must shew forth such things as I have 
 read and learned in Scripture, or else be of that sort 
 that provoke the wrath of God upon them, and be 
 traitors unto the truth : the which thing rather than 
 it should happen, I had rather suffer extreme pu* 
 nishment. 
 
 For what other thing is it to be a traitor unto the
 
 LATIMER. 455 
 
 truth, than to be a traitor and a Judas unto Christ, 
 which is the very truth and cause of all truth : the 
 which. saith, that whosoever denieth him lyre before 
 men, he will deny him before his Father in Heaven. 
 The which denying ought the more to be feared and 
 dread, than the loss of all temporal goods, honour, 
 promotion, fame, prison, slander, hurts, banish- 
 ments, and all manner of torments and cruelties, 
 yea, and death itself, be it never so shamefast and 
 painful. 
 
 ****** 
 They have made it treason to your noble grace to 
 have the Scripture in English. Here I beseech your 
 grace to pardon me awhile, and patiently hear me 
 a word or two : yea, though it be so that as con- 
 cerning your high majesty and regal power, where- 
 unto Almighty God hath called your grace, there is 
 as great difference between you and me, as between 
 God and man. For you be here to me and to all 
 your subjects, in God's stead, to defend, aid, and suc- 
 cour us in our right, and so I should tremble and 
 quake to speak to your grace. But again, as con- 
 cerning that, you be a mortal man, in danger of sin, 
 having in you the corrupt nature of Adam, in the 
 which all we be both conceived and born : so have 
 you no less need of the merits of Christ's passion for 
 your salvation, than I and other of your subjects 
 have, which be all members of the mystical body of 
 Christ. And though you be an higher member, yi
 
 450 LATIMER. 
 
 you must not disdain the lesser. For as St. Paul 
 saith, " Those members that be taken to be most 
 vile, andjhad in least reputation, be as necessary as 
 the other, for the preservation and keeping of the 
 body." This, most gracious king, when I consider- 
 ed, and also your favourable and gentle nature, I was 
 bold to write this rude, homely, and simple letter 
 unto your grace, trusting that you will accept my 
 true and faithful mind even as it is. 
 
 # * * * * * * 
 
 Your grace may see what means and craft the spi- 
 rituality (as they will be called) imagine to break and 
 withstand the acts which were made in your grace's 
 last parliament against their superfluities. Where- 
 fore they that thus do, your grace may know them 
 not to be true followers of Christ. ,And altho' I 
 named the spirituality to be corrupt with this un- 
 thrifty ambition ; yet I mean not all to be faulty 
 therein, for there be some good of them. Neither 
 .will I that your grace should take away the goods 
 due to the church, but take away all evil persons 
 from the goods, and set better in their stead. 
 * * * * '* * 
 
 " By their fruits you shall know them." For 
 where you see persecution, there is the gospel, and 
 there is the truth ; and they that do persecute, be void 
 and without all truth ; not caring for the clear light, 
 which (as our Saviour, Jesus Christ, saith in the 
 third chapter of St. John's Gospel,) " is corne into
 
 LATIMER. 45? 
 
 the world, and which shall utter and shew forth 
 every man's works." And they whose works be 
 naught, dare not come to this light, but go about 
 to stop it and hinder it, letting as much as they 
 may, that the Holy Scripture should not be read 
 in our mother tongue, saying that it would cause 
 heresy and insurrection; and so they persuade, at the 
 least way, they would fain persuade your grace to 
 keep it back. But here mark their shameless bold- 
 ness, which be not ashamed, contrary to Christ's 
 doctrine, to gather figs of thorns, and grapes of 
 bushes, and so call light darkness, and darkness light; 
 sweet sour, and sour sweet; good evil, and evil 
 good ; and to say that that which teacheth all obe- 
 dience, should cause dissention and strife : but such 
 is their belly-wisdom wherewith they judge and 
 measure every thing to hold and keep still this wick- 
 ed mammon, the goods of this world, which is their 
 God ; and hath so blind&d the eyes of their hearts, 
 that they cannot see the clear light of the sacred 
 Scripture, though they babble never so much of it. 
 
 But as concerning this matter, other men have 
 shewed your grace their minds, how necessary it is 
 to have the Scripture in English. The which thing 
 also your grace hath promised by your last procla- 
 mation : the which promise, I pray God that your 
 gracious highness may shortly perform, even to-day, 
 before to-morrow. Nor let the wickedness of these
 
 4.5S LATIMER. 
 
 worldly men detain you from your godly purpose and 
 promise. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Seeing that the right David, that is to say, our 
 Saviour Christ, hath sent his servants, that is to say, 
 Lis true preachers, and his own word also to com- 
 fort our weak and sick souls, let not these worldly 
 men make your grace believe that they will cause 
 insurrections and heresies, and such mischiefs as 
 they imagine of their own mad brains, lest that he 
 be avenged upon you and your realm, as was David 
 upon the Ammonites, arid as he hath ever been 
 avenged upon them which have obstinately with- 
 stood and gain-said his word. But, peradventure, 
 they \vill lay this against me, and say that experi- 
 ence doth shew how that such men as call themselves 
 followers of the Gospel, regard not your grace's com- 
 mandment, neither set by your proclamation; and 
 that was well proved by these persons which of late 
 were punished in London for keeping such books as 
 your grace had prohibited by proclamation : and so 
 like as they regarded not" this, so they will not re- 
 gard or esteem other your grace's laws, statutes, 
 or ordinances. But this is but a crafty persuasion, 
 for your grace knoweth that there is no man living, 
 .specially that loveth worldly promotion, that is so 
 foolish to set forth, promote, or enhance his enemy, 
 whereby he should be let of his wordly pleasures and
 
 LATIMER. f 459 
 
 fleshly desires : but rather he will seek all the ways 
 possible that he can, utterly to confound, destroy, 
 and put him out of the way. And so as concerning 
 your last proclamation prohibitii/g such books, the 
 very true cause, of it, and chief counsellors, (as 
 men say, and of likelihood it should be,) were they 
 'whose evil living and cloaked hypocrisy, these books 
 uttered and disclosed. And howbeit that there 
 were three or four that would have had the Scrip- 
 ture to go forth in English; yet it happened there, as 
 it is evermore seen, that the most part overcometh 
 the better ; and so it might be that these men did not 
 take this proclamation as yours, but as theirs, set 
 forth in your name, and they have done many times 
 mo, which hath put this your realm in great hin- 
 drance and trouble, and brought it in great penury, 
 and more would have done, if God .had not merci- 
 fully provided to bring your grace to knowledge of 
 the falsehood of the privy treason, which their head 
 and captain was] about ; and be ye sure, not without 
 adherents, if the matter be duly searched. For what 
 marvel is it, that they being so nigh of your counsel, 
 and so familiar with your lords, should provoke both 
 your grace and them to prohibit these books, which 
 before, by their own authority, have forbidden the 
 New Testament, under pain of everlasting damna- 
 tion : for such is their manner, to send a thousand 
 men to hell, ere they send one to Godj and yet the
 
 460 . XATIMER. 
 
 New Testament (and so I think by the other,) was 
 meekly offered to every man that would and could, 
 to amend it if there were any fault. 
 
 Moreover, I will ask them the causes of all insur- 
 rections which have been in this realm heretofore ? 
 And whence is it that there be so many extortioners, 
 bribers, murderers, and thieves, which daily do not 
 break only your grace's laws, ordinances, and sta- 
 tutes, 'but also the laws and commandments of Al- 
 mighty God ? I- think they will not say these books, 
 but rather their pardons, which causeth many a man 
 to sin in trust of them. For as for those malefac- 
 tors which I now rehearsed, you shall not find one 
 amongst a hundred, but that he will cry out of both 
 of these books, and also of them that have them, yea, 
 and will be glad to spend the goods which he hath 
 wrongfully gotten, upon faggots, to burn both the 
 books and them that have them. 
 
 And as touching these men that were lately pu- 
 nished for these books, there is no man, I hear say, 
 that can lay any word or deed against them that 
 should sound to the breaking of any of your grace's 
 laws, this only except, if it be yours, and not rather 
 theirs. And be it so that there be some that have 
 these books, that be evil, unruly, and self-willed 
 persons, not regarding God's laws, nor man's ; yet 
 these books be not the cause thereof, no more than 
 vas the bodily presence of Christ and his words, the
 
 LATIMER. 461 
 
 cause that Judas fell, but their own froward mind 
 and carnal wit, which should be amended by the vir- 
 tuous example of living of their curates, and by the 
 true exposition of the Scripture. If the lay people 
 had such curates that would thus do their office, nei- 
 ther these books, nor the devil himself could hurt 
 them, nor make them go out of frame ; -so that the 
 lack of good curates is the destruction and cause of 
 all mischief. Neither do I write these things be- 
 cause that I will either excuse these men lately pu- 
 nished, or to affirm all to be true written in their 
 books, which I have not all read ; but to 'shew that 
 there cannot such inconvenience follow of them, and 
 specially of the Scripture, as they would make them 
 believe should, follow. 
 
 ******* 
 Take heed whose counsels your grace doth follow 
 in this matter : for there be some that for fear of 
 losing of their worldly worship and honour, will not 
 leave off their opinion, which rashly, and that to 
 please men withal, by whom they had great promo- 
 tion, they took upon them to defend by writing. So 
 that now they think that all their felicity which 
 they put in this life, should be marred, and their wis- 
 dom not so greatly regarded, if that which they have 
 so slanderously oppressed should be now put/orth 
 and allowed.
 
 4()'J LATIMER. 
 
 I pray to God that your grace may be found 
 a faithful minister of his gifts, and not a defender of 
 his faith, for he will not have it defended by man, or 
 man's power, but by his word only, by the which he 
 hath evermore defended it, and that by a way far 
 above man's power or reason, as all the stories of 
 the Bible make mention. 
 
 Wherefore, gracious king, remember yourself, have 
 pity upon your soul, and think that the day is even 
 at hand, when you shall give accounts of your office, 
 and of the blood that hath been shed with your 
 sword. In the which day, that your grace may 
 stand stedfastly, and not be ashamed, but be clear 
 and ready in your reckoning, and to have (as they 
 say,) your quietus est, sealed with the blood of our 
 Saviour Christ, which only serveth at that day, is 
 my daily prayer to Him that suffered death for our 
 sins, which also prayeth to his Father for grace for 
 us continually. To whom be all honour and praise 
 for ever, Amen. The Spirit of God preserve your 
 grac'e. 
 
 Anno Domini, 1 530, 1 die Deccmbris. 
 
 This admirable letter, from the intrigues of 
 the popish faction, failed (as is well known) 
 to produce the desired effect; but Henry, in 
 spite of his vices, had a disposition too inge- 
 nuous not to be affected with the simple and
 
 LATIMER. 463 
 
 * 
 
 impressive manner of Latimer with his sin- 
 cerity and honest zeal. 
 
 His sermons are many of them very curious 
 compositions, and a few extracts from then* 
 can scarcely fail to amuse, if not to instruct 
 every description of readers. The following 
 passage is remarkable, as it relates to his per- 
 sonal history, and exhibits a correct picture of 
 the ancient yeomanry : 
 
 My father was a yeoman, and had no lands of his 
 own, only he had a farm of 31. or 41. by year at the 
 uttermost, and hereupon he tilled so much as kept 
 half a dozen men. He had walk for an hundred 
 sheep, and my mother milked 30 kine.' He was 
 able, and did find the king a harness, with himself 
 and his horse, while he came to the place that he 
 should receive the king's wages. I can remember 
 that I buckled his harness when he went to Black- 
 heath field. He kept me to school, or else I had 
 not been able to have preached before the king's 
 majesty now. He married my sisters with 51. or 20 
 nobles a-piece, so that he brought them up in god- 
 liness and fear of God. He kept hospitality for his
 
 4G4 LATIMER. 
 
 poor neighbours. And some alms be gave to the 
 poor, and all this did he of the said farm. Where 
 he that now hath it, payeth 161. by the year, or 
 more, and is not able to do any thing for his prince, 
 for himself, nor for his children, or give a cup of 
 drink to the poor. 
 
 In my time my poor father was as diligent to 
 teach me to shoot, as to learn me any other thing, 
 and so 1 think, other men did their children: he 
 taught me how to draw, how to lay my body in my 
 bow, and not to draw with strength of arms as divers 
 other nations do, but with strength of the body. I 
 had my bows bought me according to my age and 
 strength ; as 1 increased in them, so my bows were 
 made bigger and bigger, for men shall never shoot 
 well, except they be brought up in it : it is a worthy 
 game, a wholesome kind of exercise, and much com- 
 mended in physic'. 
 
 He then gives an account of an insidious 
 examination he underwent before the bishops: 
 
 I was once in examination before five or six bi- 
 shops, where I had much turmoiling ; every week 
 thrice I came to examination, and many snares and 
 traps were laid to get something. Now God knoweth,
 
 LATIMER. 465 
 
 I was ignorant of the law, but that God gave me 
 answer and wisdom what I should speak. It was 
 God indeed, for else I had never escaped them. At 
 the last I was brought forth to be examined, into a 
 chamber hanged with arras, where 1 was wont to be 
 examined, but now at this time the chamber was 
 somewhat altered. For whereas before there was 
 wont ever to be a fire in thv chimney, npw the fire 
 was taken away, and an arras hanging hanged over 
 the chimney, and the table stood near the chimney's 
 end : so that I stood between the table and the 
 chimney's end. There was among these bishops 
 that examined me, one with whom I have been 
 very familiar, and took him for my great friend, an 
 aged man, and he sate next the table's end. 
 
 Then amo/ig all other questions he put forth one, 
 a very subtle and crafty one, and such a one indeed 
 as I could not. think so great danger in. And I 
 should make answer : I pray yoiij master Latimer, 
 saith he, speak out : I am very thick of hearing, 
 and here be maay that sit far off. I marvelled at 
 this, that I was bidden speak out, and began to 
 misdeem, and gave an ear to the chimney. And, 
 sir, there I heard a pen walking in the chimney be- 
 hind the cloth. They had appointed one there te 
 write all my answers, for they made sure work 
 that I should not start from them, there was no start- 
 ing, from them. 
 
 VOL. I. tt K
 
 46(5 LATIMER. 
 
 God was my good Lord, and gave me answer; 1 
 could never else have escaped it. The question was 
 this : Master Latimer, do you not think on your 
 conscience, that you have been suspected of heresy ? 
 A subtle question, a very subtle question. There- 
 was no holding of peace would serve. To hold my 
 peace had been to grant myself faulty. To an- 
 swer it was every way full of danger. _But God, 
 which alway had given me answer, helped me, or 
 flse I could never have escaped it, and delivered me 
 from their hands. 
 
 The next is a very amusing example of his 
 peculiar manner. 
 
 We be many preachers here in England, and we 
 preach many long sermons, yet the people will not 
 repent nor convert. This was the fruit, the effect, 
 and the good, that his (Jonas's) sermon did, that all 
 the whole city at his preaching converted, and 
 amended their evil loose living, and did penance in 
 sackcloth. And yet here in this sermon of Jonas is 
 no great curiousness, no great clerkliness, no great 
 affectation of words, nor painted eloquence : it was 
 none other but, adhuc quadraginta dies et Nineve 
 tubvcrtcttir: Yet forty days, Nineve sulrcertetur, and 
 Ninevy shall be destroyed ; it was no more.
 
 LATIMEfc. 467 
 
 \vas no great curious sermon, but this was a nipping 
 sermon, a pinching sermon, a biting sermon ; it had 
 a full bite, it was a nipping sermon, a rough sermon, 
 and a sharp biting sermon. Do you not here mar- 
 vel that these Ninevites cast not Jonas in prison, 
 that they did not revile him, nor rebuke him ? They 
 did not revile him nor rebuke him. But God gave 
 them grace to hear him, and to convert and amend 
 at his preaching. A strange matter, so noble a city, 
 to give place to one man's sermon. Now, England 
 cannot abide this gear 1 , they cannot be content to 
 hear God's minister, and his threatening for their 
 sins, though the sermon be never so good, though 
 it be never so true. It is a naughty fellow, a sedi- 
 tious fellow ; he maketh trouble and rebellion in the 
 realm, he lacketh discretion. * * * * * 
 
 Here is now an argument to prove the matter 
 against the preachers. Here was preaching against 
 covetousness all the last year in Lent, and the next 
 Summer followed rebellion : Ergo preaching against 
 covetousness was the cause of the rebellion a 
 goodly argument. Here now I remember an argu- 
 ment of master Moore's, which he bringeth in a 
 book that he made against Biiney ; and here by the 
 way I will tell you a merry toy. Master Moore was 
 once sent in commission into Kent, to help to try 
 out (if it might be) what was the cause of Goodwin 
 
 1 stuff, matter,
 
 468 LATIMER. 
 
 Sands, and the shelf that stopped up Sandwich ha- 
 ven. Thither cometh master Moore, and calieth the 
 country afore him, such as were thought to be men 
 of experience, and men that could of likelihood best 
 'certify him of that matter concerning the stopping 
 of Sandwich haven. Among others came in before 
 him an old man, with a white head, and one that 
 was thought to be little less than a hundred years 
 old. When master Moore saw this aged man, he 
 thought it expedient to hear him say his mind in 
 this matter (for being so old a man, it was likely 
 that he knew most of any man in that presence 
 and company). So master Moore called this old 
 ag^d man unto him, and said ; Father, (said he,) tell 
 me if you can, what is the cause of this great arising 
 of the sands and shelves here about this haven, the 
 which stop it up, that no ships can arrive here ? Ye 
 are the eldest man I can espy in all this company, 
 so that if any man can tell any cause of it, ye of like- 
 lihood can say most to it, or at leastwise, more than 
 any man here assembled. Yea forsooth, good master, 
 (quoth this old man,) for I am well nigh a hundred 
 years old, and no man here in this company any 
 thing near unto mine age. Well then, (quoth mas- 
 ter Moore,) how say you in this matter ? What think 
 you to be the cause of these shelves and flats that 
 stop up Sandwich haven ? Forsooth sir, (quoth he,) 
 I am an old man; I think that Tenterton-steeple
 
 LATIMER. 469 
 
 is the cause of Goodwin Sands. For I am an old man, 
 sir, (quoth he,) and I may remember the building of 
 Tenterton-steeple, and I may remember when there 
 was no steeple at all there. 'And before that Ten- 
 terton-steeple was in building, there was no manner 
 of speaking of any flats or sands that stopped the 
 haven ; and therefore I think that Tenterton-steeple 
 is the cause of the destroying and decay of Sandwich 
 haven. And so to my purpose, is preaching ot God's 
 word the cause of rebellion, as Tentertoii-steeple was 
 ause that Sandwich haven is decayed. 
 
 In another sermon he addresses the ladies iu 
 a manner perhaps not over-gallant, and de- 
 claims against the vices of the age in 
 general. 
 
 As it is a part of your penance, ye women, to 
 travail in bearing your children : for it is a part of 
 your penance to be subject unto your husbands ; 
 ye are Underlings, and must be obedient. But this 
 is now made a trifle and a small matter. And yet it 
 is a sad matter; a godly matter, a ghostly matter, 
 and matter of damnation and salvation. And Paul 
 saith that a woman ought to have a power on her 
 head. What is this to have a power on her head ? 
 it is a manner of speaking of the Scripture; and to
 
 4?0 LATIMER. 
 
 have a power on her head, is to have a sign and 
 token of power, which is by covering of her head, 
 declaring that she hath a superior ahove her, by 
 \vhom she ought to be ruled and ordered. For she 
 is not immediately under God, but mediately. For 
 by this injunction, their husband is their head under 
 God, and they subjects to their husbands. But 
 this power that some of them have, is disguised 
 gear and strange fashions. They must wear French 
 hoods, and I cannot tell you what to call it. And 
 when they make them ready, and come to the cover- 
 ing of their head, they will call and say, give me my 
 French hood, and give me my bonnet, or my cap, and 
 so forth. I would wish that the women would call 
 the covering of their heads by the terms of the 
 Scriptures. As when she would have her cap, I 
 would she should say, Give me my power. I would 
 they would learn to speak, as the Holy Ghost 
 speaketh, and call it but such a name as St. Paul 
 doth. J would they would, (as they have much 
 preaching) when they put on their cap, I would they 
 would have this meditation: I am now putting on my 
 power upon my head. If they had this thought in 
 their minds, they would not make so much prank- 
 ing up of themselves as they do now a-days. But 
 now here is a vengeance devil : we must have one 
 power from Turkey of velvet, and gay it must be far 
 /et, dear bought ; and when it cometh it is a false 
 sign. I had rather have a true English sign, than
 
 LATIMER. 471 
 
 a false sign from Turkey. It is a false sign when 
 it converteth not their heads as it should do. For 
 if they would keep it under the power as they ought 
 to do, there should not any such thussockes nor 
 tufts be seen as there be, nor such laying out of 
 the hair, nor braiding to have it open. I would mar- 
 vel of it r how it should come to be so abused, and so 
 far out of order, saving that I know by experience, 
 that many would be ruled by their husbands, as they 
 ought to be. I have been desired to exhort some, and 
 with some I could do little in that matter. But 
 there be now many Adams that will not displease their 
 wives, but will in this behalf let them have all their 
 own minds, and do as them listeth. And some 
 others again there be now a-days that will defend it, 
 and say it may be suffered well enough, because it is 
 not expressed in Scripture, nor spoken of by name. 
 Though we have not express mention in Scripture 
 against such laying out of the hair in thussockes 
 and tufts, yet we have in Scripture express mention 
 de tortis crinibus, of writhen hair, that is for the 
 nonce* forced to curl. But of these thussockes that 
 are laid out now a-days, there is no mention made 
 in Scriptures, because they were not used in Scripture 
 time. They were not yet come to be so far out of 
 order, as to lay out such thussockes and tufts. But 
 I will tell thee, if thou wilt needs lay it out, or if 
 
 1 for the nonce on purposa ; per force. This expression is 
 still used in Norfolk in the same sense.
 
 472 LATIMER. 
 
 thou wilt needs shew thy hair, and have it seen, 
 go and poll thy head, or round it, as men do : for 
 to what purpose is it to pull it out so, and to lay it 
 out.? Some do it (say they) of a simplicity. Some 
 do it of a pride. And some of other causes. But 
 they do it because they will be quarter-master with 
 their husbands. Quarter-master? Nay, half-mas- 
 ters : yea, some of them will be whole-masters, and 
 rule the roast as they list themselves. But these 
 defenders of it will not have it evil, because it is 
 not spoken of in Scripture. But there be other 
 things as evil as this, which are not spoken of in 
 Scripture expressly, but they are implied in Scripture, 
 as well as though they were expressly spoken of. 
 For the prophet Esay saith, Vx qui consurgitis mane 
 ad comessandum, ad ebrietatem sectandam, et potando 
 vsqse ad vcsperum, ut vino cpstuetis. Wo unto you that 
 rise early in the morning and go to drinking until 
 night, that ye might swim in wine.' 
 
 This is the Scripture against banquetting and 
 drunkenness. But now they banquet all night, and 
 lie a-bed in the day time till noon, and the Scrip- 
 ture speaketh nothing of that. But what then ? The 
 devil hath his purpose this way, as well as the 
 other ; he hath his purpose as well by revelling and 
 keeping ill rule all night, as by rising early in the 
 morning and banquetting all day. So the devil hath 
 his purpose both ways. Ye noble men, ye great 
 men, I wot not what rule ye keep : for God's
 
 LATIMER. 473 
 
 sake hear the complaints and suits of the poor. 
 Many complain against you, that ye lie a-bed till 
 eight, or nine, or ten of the clock. I cannot tell 
 what revel ye have over night, whether in banquet- 
 ting, or dicing, or carding, or how it is. But in the 
 morning, when the poor suitors come to your houses, 
 ye cannot be spoken withal, they are kept sometimes 
 without your gates, or if they be let into the hall 
 or some outer chamber, out cometh one or other, 
 Sir, ye cannot speak with my lord yet, my lord is 
 asleep, or he hath business of the king's all night, 
 c. 'and thus poor suitors are driven oft' from day 
 to day, that they cannot speak with you in three or 
 four days, yea, a whole month what shall I say more ? 
 A whole year sometimes ere they can come to your 
 speech, to be heard of you. For God's love, look 
 better to it ; speak with poor men when they come 
 to your houses, and dispatch poor suitors, as indeed 
 some noblemen do, and would Christ that all noble- 
 men would so do. 
 
 Afterwards, adverting to the nativity, he 
 says: 
 
 I warrant you there was many a jolly damsel at 
 that time in Bet/ilem, yet amongst them all there 
 was not one found that would humble herself x so
 
 LATIMER. 
 i 
 
 much, as once to go see poor Mary in the stable, 
 and to comfort ,her. No, no ; they were too fine to 
 take such pains. I warrant you they had their brace- 
 lets, and verdingals, and wore trimmed with all man- 
 ner of fine and costly raiment, like as there be many 
 now a-days amongst us, which study nothing else 
 but how they may devise fine- raiment, and in the 
 mean season, they suffer poor Mary to lie in the 
 stable ; that is to say, the poor people of God they 
 sutler to perish for lack of necessaries. 
 
 But what was her swaddling clothes wherein she 
 
 laid the King of Heaven and Earth ? No doubt it 
 
 
 
 was poor gear ; peradventure it was her kercher 
 which she took from her head, or such like gear : 
 for I think Mary had not much fine linen ; she was 
 not trimmed up as our women be now a-days. 1 
 think indeed Mary had never a verdingal, for she 
 used no such superfluities as our fine damsels do 
 now a-days : for in the old time women were con- 
 tent with honest and simple garments. Now they 
 have found out these roundabouts; they were not in- 
 vented then ; the devil was not so cunning to make 
 ?uch gear; he found it out afterward. Therefore 
 Mary had it not. I will say this, and yet not judge 
 other folks' hearts, but only speak after daily ap- 
 pearance and experience : no doubt it is nothing but a 
 token of pride to wear such verdingals, and there- 
 fore I think that every godly woman should set
 
 LATIMER. . 475 
 
 them aside. It was not for nought that St. Paul 
 advertised all women to give a good example of sad- 
 ness, soberness, and godliness, in setting aside all 
 wantonness and pride. And he speaketh of such 
 manner of pride ,as was used in his time : non tortis 
 crinibus, not with laying out the hair artificially: 
 non plicatura capillomm, not with laying out the tus- 
 sockes. I doubt not but if verdingals had been 
 used at that time, St. Paul would have spoken against 
 them too, like as he spake against other things 
 which women used at that tirhe, to shew their wan- 
 tonness and foolishness. Therefore, as I said before, 
 seeing that God abhorreth all pride (and verdingals 
 are nothing else but an instrument of pride) I would 
 wish that women would follow the counsel of St. Paul, 
 and set aside such gorgeous apparel, and rather 
 study to please God, than to set their mind upon 
 pride : or else, when they will not follow the counsel 
 of St. Paul, let them scrape out those words where- 
 with he forbiddeth them their proudness, otherwise 
 the words of St. Paul will condemn them at the 
 last day. I say no more ; wise folks will do wisely. 
 The words of St. Paul are not written for nothing : 
 if they will do after his mind, they must set aside 
 their foolish verdingals : but if they will go for- 
 ward in their foolishness and pride, the reward which 
 they shall have at the end, shall not .be taken from 
 them.
 
 47C LAT1MER. 
 
 By this plain, familiar, often coarse style of 
 preaching, Latimcr produced a wonderful 
 effect upon his hearers. On one or two oc- 
 casions he preached with applause, even, be- 
 fore Henry VIII. himself, at Windsor. In 
 his time there were no sermons, except in the 
 principal churches, and upon some parti- 
 cular fasts and festivals. In the reign of Ed- 
 ward VI. he preached often at court ; and 
 his sermons, both from the novelty of the 
 thing, and the reputation of the preacher, 
 drew crowds of all descriptions to hear him. 
 We are informed by Heylin, that the multi- 
 tude was so great, as to occasion the removal 
 of the pulpit from the Royal Chapel to the 
 Privy Garden. 
 
 Cranmer conspired with his brother martyr, 
 Latimer,to introduce a more rational and plain 
 manner, of preaching*. The sermons of both, 
 particularly those of Latimer, were emi- 
 nently popular ; and insisted much on moral 
 
 * As I have given such copious extracts from the Works of 
 Latimcr, I shall be excused for passing over those of Cranmer ? 
 thoogh they are very numerous, and abound in theological 
 learning. His library contained a very noble collection of books; 
 and Roger Ascham has often said, " I me,et with authors herej 
 which the two universities cannot furnish."
 
 LATIMER. 4?7 
 
 ( 
 
 topics, and the duties of philanthropy. This 
 method was wholly different from the custo- 
 mary preaching of those times, which con- 
 sisted for the most part, in telling legendary 
 tales of saints and martyrs, alvva}^s incredible, 
 and commonly ridiculous and contemptible ; 
 and in giving reports of miracles wrought 
 for the confirmation of transubstantiation, and 
 other superstitious doctrines of the Catholic 
 church. We are indebted to Latimer and 
 Cranmer, therefore, in addition to their laud- 
 able struggles against the tyvanny of the 
 Popish hierarchy, for contributing' tq >', restore 
 the dominion of common sense. 
 
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