• •••• ill liliip'iilj; ill iiii iisipP hMHHET Mail Klilli From the Library of Dr. R. E, Hieronymus 1942 310 As2.s 1900 UPR 1 n MAY 4' 1 j < 0 * i- LB -11 2 5 1972 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2018 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates \ https://archive.org/details/schoolmasterOOasch THE SCHOOLMASTE R. CASSELL’S NATIONAL LIBRARY (New Series) The Schoolmaster BY ROGER ASCHAM CASSELL and COMPANY, Limited LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK & MELBOURNE 1900 • a . ; ■ i. •. . : o ■ • k * »' ■ •• ■ ; : / . ■ .. - .... 1 t 1 - — INTRODUCTION. -*o»- £l Roger Ascham, the third son of John Ascham and Margaret his wife, was born in the year 1515 at Kirby Wiske, four or five miles northward of Thirsk, in the North Riding of Yorkshire. There are several Wishes in the North Riding—Kirby Wiske, Newby Wiske, Danby Wiske ; the word being from the Welsh Wysg, equivalent to the G-aelic Uisge, water. There is a stream in York- ' shire called the Wisk, allied in name to Exe, Ouse, and the like. John Ascham was house-steward in the service of "Henry Lord Scrope of Bolton, who died in 1532, and was succeeded in the barony by his son John, who died in 1554. John Ascham and Margaret his wife lived together until the year 1544, when they both died on the same day. and almost at the same hour, after forty-seven years of happy marriage. Roger Ascham’s elder brothers were '< named Thomas and Antony. Antony graduated as M.B. in 1540, studied astrology, and became Vicar of Burneston, in Yorkshire. Roger Ascham had also sisters. While v still very young he was received into the family of Sir > Humphrey Wingfield, “ to whom,” said Ascham, “ next to God I ought to refer, for his manifold benefits bestowed on me, the poor talent of learning which God hath lent - me. . . . This worshipful man hath ever loved and used v to have many children brought up in learning in his cv house, amongst whom I myself was one.” He was placed under a tutor, R. Bond, until the age of fifteen, when liis patron sent him on to St. John’s College. Cambridge, where his tutor was Hugh Fitzherbert, a Fellow of St. John’s. He proceeded to B.A. early in 1534, and in March, • .1534, was himself elected Fellow of his College. Robert ■'’Pember, an intimate friend of his tutor, took great 6 INTRODUCTION. interest in the rapid advance of Ascham’s studies, espe¬ cially in Greek, then newly introduced into the Uni¬ versity. Ascham taught Greek as he learnt it. and learnt much of it from Robert Pember, who became chief Greek Reader at Trinity College, upon its foundation in 1546. Ascham became also one of the best Latin scholars in his University, and was often chosen to write Latin letters in the name of his College on special occasions, because he excelled both as a Latinist and as a penman. His skill in handwriting extended to ornamental letters and illumi¬ nation. The Master of his College, Dr. Nicholas Medcalfe, was a kindly man of the old school, a Roman Catholic, not the less ready to assist young men who worked faith¬ fully if they chanced to have heretical opinions. Ascham, at eighteen, newly-made Bachelor of Arts, had spoken among his companions against the Pope. How the good Master of the College then joined an official favour to a private kindness, Ascham tells in his “ Schoolmaster,” as may be seen on pages 155-157 of this edition. Ascham commenced M.A. on the 29th of June, 1537, when in his twenty-first year, and in the following spring he paid a visit to his parents, whom he had not seen during the seven years of Cambridge study towards graduation. He lectured on Greek at St. John’s College, and also for the University, and for two years, from the end of 1539, he was Mathematical Lecturer to the University. In 1540 Henry VIII. founded at Cambridge five Regius Professorships—Law, Medicine, Divinity, Hebrew and Greek—and John Cheke, not knighted until 1552, was appointed the first Regius Professor of Greek, with a stipend of forty pounds a year. Ascham’s Greek lectures were then confined to St. John’s College. In the same year, 1540, Ascham sought aid to his maintenance by offering to translate from the Greek fathers, make ab¬ stracts, and be otherwise useful to Edward Lee, who had been constituted Archbishop of York in 1530. Arch¬ bishop Lee gave Ascham a pension of forty shillings, and Ascham made for the Archbishop a translation into Latin of (Ecumenius’s “ Commentaries on Paul’s Epistles, gathered out of Cyril, Chrysostom, and other Greek INTRODUCTION. rs t Fathers.” The translation was returned to Ascham with a present, and a request that he would see to the hetero¬ doxy of a passage from Chrysostom upon the marriage of the clergy. Ascham’s age was at this time twenty-seven. He was one of the finest classical scholars at Cambridge. He had learned to play upon several instruments of music ; he had kept up the practice of archery, in which Sir Humphrey Wingfield had begun his training as a boy ; he was in harmony with the opinions of the more scholarly Church Reformers, and justified the dread of Greek scholarship and study of Plato, which gave rise to the saying among priests of the old school, “ Cave a Greeds, ne Jias hcereticvs ”—Beware of the Greeks lest you be made a heretic. Roger Ascham was of weak health during all his life, and was at home ill for two years about the time when he made his translation of (Ecumenius’s “ Commentaries ” for Archbishop Lee. Archbishop Lee died on the 13th of September, 1544, and with him died Ascham’s little pension of forty shillings. In the same year Ascham lost both father and mother, and the last letter written by his father urged that he should at once leave Cambridge and take to some honest course of life, for that they provoked, at Cambridge, the anger of God by the contentions that went on amongst them. In 1544 Henry VIII. besieged and took Boulogne. Ascham had been preparing in view of that expedition, a little treatise for encouragement of the practice of archery among scholars as among the people at large, which was called “ Toxophilus,” and was in two parts. The first was upon the public and the personal advantage of the practice of archery, which then corresponded to our modern rifle practice, as a means of defence against invasion. The second part was technical, upon the use of the bow. The King’s movements were quicker than had been expected, and he was back from Boulogne in Septem¬ ber, 1544, before “ Toxophilus ” was finished. The book was presented to the King in the picture-gallery at Green¬ wich, in 1545, the year of its publication, and his Majesty rewarded Ascham’s patriotism with a pension of ten pounds a year. In his preface to “ Toxophilus ” Ascham 8 INTRODUCTION. was the first to suggest that English prose might be written with the same scholarly care that would be required for choice and ordering of the words if one wrote Latin. “He that will write well in any tongue,” said Ascham, “must follow this counsel'of Aristotle, to speak as the common people do, to think as wise men do ; and so should every man understand him, and the judg¬ ment of wise men allow him. Many English writers have not done so, but using strange words as Latin, French, and Italian, do make all things dark and hard. Once I commerced with a man which reasoned the English tongue to be enriched and increased thereby, saying, “ Who will not praise that feast where a man shall drink at a dinner both wine, ale and beer ? ’ ‘ Truly,’ quod I, ‘ they be all good, every one taken by himself alone; but if you put malmsey and sack, red wine and white, ale and beer, and all in one pot, you shall make a drink neither easy to be known, nor yet wholesome for the body.’ ” Ascham supplies here the right standard by which to measure English scholarship. His Latin was so well esteemed that in the year after the appearance of “ Toxophilus” he succeeded Cheke as Public Orator, and wrote the official letters of the University. Upon the death of Henry VIII. Ascham’s pension was renewed by Edward VI., to whom he had been tutor in writing, and in 1548 Ascham first began to teach Greek to the Princess Elizabeth, whom we find in the “ School¬ master,” continuing her Greek studies with him when she had succeeded to the throne. In the reign of Edward VI. Ascham was appointed Secretary to Sir Richard Morison who went abroad in 1550, in the interests of the Reformation as Ambassador to Charles V. Ascham published in 1553 a “Report and Discourse of the Affairs and State of Germany and the Emperor Charles his Court, during certain years while the said Roger was there.” On the accession of Queen Mary Sir Richard Morison’s mission of course came to an end ; but while other reformers suffered, Ascham’s freedom from all bitterness made him so acceptable a friend that, without change INTRODUCTION. 9 and concealment of opinion, he obtained renewal of his pension, and in May, 1554, he was appointed Latin Secretary to the Queen with a salary of forty marks. In that year, at the age of thirty-nine, he gave up his fellowship at St. John’s and married Margaret Howe. When Elizabeth became Queen in 1558, Ascham’s pen¬ sion was again renewed, and he retained his post of Latin Secretary. The Queen also showed him other kindnesses. In 1563 Ascham, as one in the Queen’s service, was dining with Sir William Cecil (afterwards Lord Burleigh), when the conversation turned to the subject of education, from news of the running away of some boys from Eton, where there was much beating. Ascham argued that young children were sooner allured by love than driven by beating to obtain good learning. Sir Richard Sackville, father of Thomas Sackville, said nothing at the dinner- table, but he afterwards drew Ascham aside, agreed with his opinions, lamented his own past loss by a harsh schoolmaster, and said, Ascham tells us in the preface to hi3 book, “ 1 Seeing it is but in vain to lament things pa3t. and also wisdom to look to things to come, surely, God willing, if God lend me life, I will make this my mishap some occasion of good hap to little Robert Sackville, my son’s son. For whose bringing up I would gladly, if it so please you, use specially your good advice. I hear say you have a son much of his age (Ascham had three little sons) ; we frill deal thus together. Point you out a school¬ master who by your order shall teach my son’s son and yours, and for all the rest I will provide, yea, though they three do cost me a couple of hundred pounds by year ; and besides you shall find me as fast a friend to you and yours as perchance any you have.’ Which pro¬ mise the worthy gentleman surely kept with me until his dying day.” The conversation went into particulars, and in the course of it, Sir Richard drew from Ascham what he thought of the common going of Englishmen into Italy. All ended with a request that Ascham would “put in some order of writing the chief points of this our talk, concerning the right order of teaching and honesty of living, for the good bringing up of children and young men.” 10 INTRODUCTION. That was the origin of Ascham’s book called “The Schoolmaster.” Ascham wrote in Latin against the mass, and upon other subjects connected with religious con¬ troversy. His delicate health failed more and more. He became unable to work between dinner and bed-time, was troubled with sleeplessness, sought rest by the motion of a cradle, and ended his pure life as a scholar in 1568, at the age of fifty-three. His “ Schoolmaster ” was left complete, and published in 1570 by his widow, with a dedication to Sir William Cecil, beseeching him, she said, to take on him “ the defence of the book, to avaunce the good that may come of it by your allowance and furtherance to publike use and benefite, and to accept the thankefull recognition of me and my poore children ; trustyng of the continuance of your good memorie of M. Ascham and his, and dayly commendyng the prosperous estate of you and yours to God, whom you serve and whose you are, I rest to trouble you. Your humble Margaret Ascham.” H. M. The Schoolmaster. THE FIRST BOOK FOR THE YOUTH. After the child hath learned perfectly the eight parts of speech, let him then learn the right joining together of substantives with adjectives, the noun with the verb, the relative with the antecedent. And in learning farther his syntax by mine advice, he shall not use the common order in common schools for making of Latins, whereby the child commonly learnetli: first, an evil choice of words (and right choice of words, saith Caesar, is the foundation of eloquence) than a wrong placing of words; and lastly, an ill framing of the sentence, with a perverse judgment both of words and sentences. These faults, taking once root in youth, be never or hardly plucked away in age. More¬ over, there is no one thing that hath more either dulled the wits or taken away the will of children from learning than the care they have to satisfy their masters in making of Latins. For the scholar is commonly beat for the making, 12 THE SCHOOLMASTER. when the master were more worthy to be beat for the mending, or rather marring of the same. The master many times being as ignorant as the child, what to say properly and fitly to the matter. Two schoolmasters have set forth in print either of them a book, of such kind of Latins, Horman and Whittington. A child shall learn of the better of them, that which another day if he be wise and come to judgment he must be fain to unlearn again. There is a way, touched in the first book of Cicero’s “ De Orator©/’ which, wisely brought into schools, truly taught, and constantly used, would not only take wholly away this butcherly fear in making of Latins, but would also with ease and pleasure, and in short time, as I know by good experience, work a true choice and placing of words, a right ordering of sentences, an easy understanding of the tongue, a readiness to speak, a facility to write, a true judgment, both of his own and other men’s doings, what tongue so ever he doth use. The way is this. After the three Concordances learned, as I touched before, let the master read unto him the Epistles of Cicero, gathered together and chosen out by Sturmius, for the capacity of children. First, let him teach the child cheerfully and plainly the cause and matter of the letter, then let him con¬ strue it into English, so oft as the child may easily THE SCHOOLMASTER. 13 carry away the understanding of it; lastly, parse it over perfectly. This done thus, let the child by-and- by both construe and parse it over again, so that it may appear that the child doubteth in nothing that his master taught him before. After this the child must take a paper book, and sitting in some place, where no man shall prompt him, by himself, let him translate into English his former lesson. Then showing it to his master, let the master take from him his Latin book, and pausing an hour at the least, then let the child translate his own English into Latin again in another paper book. When the child bringeth it turned into Latin, the master must compare it with Tuny’s book, and lay them both together, and where the child doth well, either in choosing or true placing of Tully’s words, let the master praise him and say here ye do well. For I assure you there is no such whetstone to sharpen a good wit and encourage a will to learning as his praise. But if the child miss either in forgetting a word or in changing a good with a worse, or misordering the sentence, I would not have the master either frown or chide with him, if the child have done his diligence, and used no truantship therein. For I know by good experience that a child shall take more profit of two faults, gently warned of, than of four things rightly hit. For then the master shall have good occasion to say unto him, Tully would have used such a word, 14 THE SCHOOLMASTER. not this; Tully would have placed this word here, nof there; would have used this case, this number, this person, this degree, this gender; he would have used this mood, this tense, this simple rather than this compound; this adverb here, not there; he would have ended the sentence with this verb, not with that noun [ or participle, etc. In these few lines I have wrapped up the most, tedious part of grammar, and also the ground of almost all the rules that are so busily taught by the master, and so hardly learned by the scholar in all common schools, which after this sort the master shall teach without all error, and the scholar shall learn without great pain, the master being led by so sure a guide and the scholar being brought into so plain and easy a way. And therefore we do not contemn rules, but we gladly teach rules, and teach them more plainly, sensibly, and orderly, than they be commonly taught in common schools. For when the master shall compare Tully’s book with his scholar’s translation, let the master at the first lead and teach his scholar to join the rules of his grammar book, with the examples of his present lesson, until the scholar by himself be able to fetch out of his grammar every rule for every example, so as the grammar book be ever in the scholar’s hand, and also used of him as a dictionary for every present use. This is a lively and perfect way of teaching of rules, where the common way used in THE SCHOOLMASTER. 15 common schools to read the grammar alone by itself is tedious for the master, hard for the scholar, cold and uncomfortable for them both. Let your scholar be never afraid to ask you any doubt, but use discreetly the best allurements you can, to encourage him to the same, lest his overmuch fearing of you drive him to seek some misorderly shift, as to seek to be helped by some other book or to be prompted by some other scholar, and so go about to beguile you much, and himself more. With this way of good understanding the master, plain construing, diligent parsing, daily translating, cheerful admonishing, and heedful amending of faults, never leaving behind just praise for well-doing, I would have the scholar brought up withal till he had read and translated over the first book of Epistles chosen out by Sturmius, with a good piece of a comedy of Terence also. All this while by mine advice the child shall use to speak no Latin. For as Cicero saith in like matter with like words, loquendo, male loqui discunt. And that excellent learned man, G. Budseus, in his Greek Commentaries, sore complaineth that when he began to learn the Latin tongue, use of speaking Latin at the table and elsewhere, unadvisedly did bring him to such an evil choice of words, to such a crooked framing of sentences, that no one thing did hurt or hinder him more all the days of his life 16 THE SCHOOLMASTER. afterward, both for readiness in speaking and also good judgment in writing. In very deed if children were brought up in such a house or such a school where the Latin tongue were properly and perfectly spoken, as Tib. and Ca. Gracchi were brought up in their mother Cornelia’s house, surely then the daily use of speaking were the best and readiest way to learn the Latin tongue. But now, commonly, in the best schools in England, for words, right choice is smally regarded, true propriety wholly neglected, confusion is brought in, barbarousness is bred up so in young wits, as afterward they be not only marred for speaking, but also corrupted in judgment, as with much ado or never at all they be brought to right frame again. Yet all men covet to have their children speak Latin, and so do I very earnestly too. We both have one purpose, we agree in desire, we wish one end, but we differ somewhat in order and way that leadeth rightly to that end. Others would have them speak at all adventures; and so they be speaking to speak, the master careth not, the scholar knoweth not, what. This is to seem and not to be, except it be to be bold without shame, rash without skill, full of words without wit. I wish to have them speak so, as it may well appear, that the brain doth govern the tongue, and that reason leadeth forth the talk. Socrates’ doctrine is true in Plato and well marked, and truly uttered by Horace THE SCHOOLMASTER. 17 in “Ars Poetica,” that wheresoever knowledge doth accompany the wit, there best utterance doth always await upon the tongue; for good understanding must first be bred in the child, which, being nourished with skill and use of writing (as I will teach more largely hereafter), is the only way to bring him to judgment and readiness in speaking, and that in far shorter time (if he follow constantly the trade of this little lesson) than he shall do by common teaching of the common schools in England. But to go forward as you perceive your scholar to go better and better on away, first with understanding hio desson more quickly, with parsing more readily, with translating more speedily and perfectly than he was wont, after give him longer lessons to translate, and withal begin to teach him both in nouns and verbs what is Proprium, and what is Translatum, what Synonymum , what Diversum, which be Con- traria, and which be most notable phrases in all his lecture. As :— Proprium. Rex sepultus est magnified. i Cum illo principe, Translatum. < sepulta est et gloria v. et salus Eeipublicse. „ { Ensis, gladius. ynonyma. j Laudare, praedicare. 18 THE SCHOOLMASTER. I Diligere, amare. Calere, exardescere. Inimicus, hostis. Contraria. Phrases. Acerbum et luctuosum bellum. Dulcis et laeta pax. Dare verba. Abjicere obedientiam. Y our scholar then must have the third paper book: in the which, after he hath done his double translation, let him write after this sort four of these forenamed six, diligently marked out of every lesson :— Quatuor. r Propria. Translata. Synonyma. Diversa. Contraria. ^ Phrases. Or else, three, or two, if there be no more: and if there be none of these at all in some lecture, yet not omit the order, but write these:— Diversa nulla. Contraria nulla, etc. This diligent translating, joined with this heedful marking, in the aforesaid epistles, and afterward in some plain oration of Tully, as, pro lege Manilla , pro Archia Poeta , or in those three ad C. Cces., shall work ♦ such a right choice of words, so straight a framing of THE SCHOOLMASTER. 19 sentences, such a true judgment, both to write skilfully and speak wittily, as wise men shall both praise and marvel at. If your scholar do miss sometimes in marking rightly the aforesaid six things, chide not hastily, for that shall both dull his wit and discourage his diligence, but monish him gently, which shall make him both willing to amend, and glad to go forward in love and hope of learning. I have now wished, twice or thrice, this gentle nature to be in a schoolmaster: and, that I have done so, neither by chance, nor without some reason, I will now declare at large why, in mine opinion, love is fitter than fear, gentleness better than beating, to bring up a child rightly in learning. With the common use of teaching and beating in common schools of England, I will not greatly con¬ tend, which if I did, it were but a small grammatical controversy, neither belonging to heresy nor treason, nor greatly touching God nor the Prince: although in very deed, in the end, the good or ill bringing up of children doth as much serve to the good or ill service of God, our Prince, and our whole country, as any one thing doth beside. I do gladly agree with all good schoolmasters in these points: to have children brought to good per¬ fectness in learning ; to all honesty in manners; to have all faults rightly amended; to have every vioe 20 THE SCHOOLMASTER. severely corrected; but for the order and way that leadeth rightly to these ..points we somewhat differ. For commonly, many schoolmasters—some, as I have seen, more, as I have heard tell—be of so crooked a nature, as, when they meet with a hard-witted scholar, they rather break him than bow him, rather mar him than mend him. For when the schoolmaster is angry with some other matter, then will he soonest fall to beat his scholar; and though he himself should be punished for his folly, yet must he beat some scholar for his pleasure, though there be no cause for him to do so, nor yet fault in the scholar to deserve so. These, you will say, be fond schoolmasters, and few they bo that be found to be such. They be fond, indeed, but surely over many such be found everywhere. But this will I say, that even the wisest of your great beaters do as oft punish nature as they do correct faults. Yea, many times the better nature is sorely punished ; for, if one, by quickness of wit, take his lesson readily, another, by hardness of wit, taketh it not so speedily, the first is always commended, the other is commonly punished; when a wise schoolmaster should rather discreetly consider the right disposition of both their natures, and not so much wav what either of them is able to do now, as what either of them is likely to do hereafter. For this I know, not only by reading of books in my study, but also by experience of life abroad in the world, that those which be commonly THE SCHOOLMASTER. 21 the wisest, the best learned, and best men also, when they be old, were never commonly the quickest of wit when they were young. The causes why, amongst other, which be many, that move me thus to think, be these few, which I will reckon. Quick wits commonly be apt to take, unapt to keep; soon hot and desirous of this and that; as cold and soon weary of the same again; more quick to enter speedily than able to pierce far: even like over sharp tools, whose edges be very soon turned. Such wits delight themselves in easy and pleasant studies, and never pass far forward in high and hard sciences. And therefore the quickest wits commonly may prove the best poets, but not the wisest orators: ready of tongue to speak boldly, not deep of judgment, either for good counsel or wise writing. Also, for manners and life, quick wits com¬ monly be, in desire, newfangle, in purpose, unconstant, light to promise anything, ready to forget everything, both benefit and injury; and thereby neither fast to friend nor fearful to foe; inquisitive of every trifle; not secret in greatest affairs; bold with any person; busy in every matter; soothing such as be present, nipping any that is absent; of nature also, always, flattering their betters, envying their equals, despising their inferiors; and, by quickness of wit, very quick and ready, to like none so well as themselves. Moreover commonly, men, very quick of wit, be also very light of conditions, and thereby very ready 22 THE SCHOOLMASTER. of disposition, to be carried over quickly, by any light company, to any riot and nnthriftiness when they ba young; and therefore seldom either honest of life or rich in living when they be old. For, quick in wit and light in manners be either seldom troubled, or very soon weary, in carrying a very heavy puree. Quick wits also be, in most part of all their doings, overquick, hasty, rash, heady, and brainsick. These two last words, heady and brainsick, be fit and proper words, rising naturally of the matter, and termed aptly by the condition of overmuch quickness of wit. In youth also they be ready scoffers, privy mockers, and ever over light and merry. In age, soon testy, very waspish, and always over miserable; and yet few of them come to any great age by reason of their misordered life when they were young; but a great deal fewer of them come to show any great countenance, or bear any great authority abroad in the world, but either live obscurely, men know not how, or die obscurely, men mark not when. They be like trees that show forth fair blossoms and broad leaves in spring time, but bring out small and not long last¬ ing fruit in harvest time; and that only such as fall and rot before they be ripe, and so never, or seldom, come to any good at all. For this ye shall find most true by experience, that amongst a number of quick wits in youth, few be found, in the end, either very fortunate for themselves or very profitable to serve the common THE SCHOOLMASTER. 23 wealth, but decay and vanish, men know not which way; except a very few, to whom peradventure blood and happy parentage may perchance purchase a long standing upon the stage. The which felicity, because it cometh by others procuring, not by their own deserving, and stand by other men’s feet, and not by their own, what outward brag so ever is borne by them, is indeed, of itself, and in wise men’s eyes, of no great estimation. Some wits, moderate enough by nature, be many times marred by overmuch study and use of some sciences, namely, Music, Arithmetic, and Geometry. These sciences, as they sharpen men’s wits overmuch, so they change men’s manners oversore, if they be not moderately mingled, and wisely applied to some good use of life. Mark all mathematical heads, which be only and wholly bent to those sciences, how solitary they be themselves, how unfit to live with others, and how unapt to serve in the world. This is not only known now by common experience, but uttered long before by wise men’s judgment and sentence. Galene saith much music marreth men’s manners; and Plato hath a notable place of the same thing in his books de Rep. well marked also, and excellently translated by Tully himself. Of this matter, I wrote once more at large, twenty years ago, in my book of shooting: now I thought but to touch it, to prove that overmuch quickness of wit, either given by nature or sharpened 24 THE SCHOOLMASTER. by study, dotli not commonly bring forth either great¬ est learning, best manners, or happiest life in the end. Contrarywise, a wit in youth, that is not over dull, heavy, knotty, and lumpish, but hard, rough, and though somewhat staffish, as Tully wislietk otium, quietum, non languidum; and negotium cum labore, non cum joericulo, such a wit I say, if it be at the first well handled by the mother, and rightly smoothed and wrought as it should, not over thwartly, and against the wood, by the schoolmaster, both for learning and whole course of living, proveth always the best. In wood and stone, not the softest, but hardest, be always aptest for portraiture, both fairest for pleasure, and most durable for profit. Hard wits be hard to receive, but sure to keep; painful without weariness, heedful without wavering, constant without newfangleness; bearing heavy things, though not lightly, yet willingly; entering hard things, though not easily, yet deeply, and so come to that perfectness of learning in the end that quick wits seem in hope, but do not in deed, or else very seldom, ever attain unto. Also, for manners and life, hard wits commonly are hardly carried, either to desire every new thing, or else to marvel at every strange thing; and therefore they be careful and diligent in their own matters, not curious and busy in other men’s affairs: and so they become wise themselves, and also are counted honest by others. They be grave, steadfast, silent of tongue, secret of heart. Not hasty THE SCHOOLMASTER. or <£ o in making, but constant in keeping any promise. Not rash in uttering, but wary in considering every matter; and, thereby, not quick in speaking, but deep of judg¬ ment, whether they write, or give counsel in all weighty affairs. And these be the men that become in the end both most happy for themselves, and always best esteemed abroad in the world. I have been longer in describing the nature, the good or ill success, of the quick and hard wit, than perchance some will think this place and matter doth require. But my purpose was hereby plainly to utter what injury is offered to all learning, and to the common¬ wealth also, first, by the fond father in choosing, but chiefly by the lewd schoolmaster in beating and driving away the best natures from learning. A child that is still, silent, constant, and somewhat hard of wit, is either never chosen by the father to be made a scholar, or else, when he cometh to the school, he is smally regarded, little looked unto, he lacketh teaching, he lacketh couraging, he lacketh all things, only he never lacketh beating, nor any word that may move him to hate learning, nor any deed that may drive him from learning to any other kind of living. And when this sad-natured and hard-witted child is beat from his book, and becometh after either student of the common law, or page in the court, or servingman, or bound apprentice to a merchant, or to some handicraft, he proveth in the end wiser, happier, 26 THE SCHOOLMASTER. and many times honester too, than many of these quick wits do by their learning. Learning is both hindered and injured too by the ill choice of them that send young scholars to the universities, of whom must needs come all our divines, lawyers, and physicians. These young scholars be chosen commonly, as young apples be chosen by children, in a fair garden about St. Jamestide : a child will choose a sweeting, because it is presently fair and pleasant, and refuse a runnet, because it is then green, hard, and sour, when the one, if it be eaten, doth breed both worms and ill-humours; the other, if it stand his time, be ordered and kept as it should, is wholesome of itself, and helpeth to the good digestion of other meats. Sweetings will receive worms, rot, and die on the tree, and never or seldom come to the gathering for good and lasting store. For very grief of heart I will not apply the simili¬ tude : but hereby is plainly seen how learning is robbed of her best wits, first by the great beating, and after by the ill choosing of scholars, to go to the universities. Whereof cometh partly that lewd and spiteful proverb, sounding to the great hurt of learning and shame of learned men, that the greatest clerks be not the wisest men. And though I, in all this discourse, seem plainly to prefer hard and rough wits before quick and light wits both for learning and manners, yet am I not ignorant THE SCHOOLMASTER. 27 that some quickness of wit is a singular gift of God, and so most rare amongst men, and namely such a wit as is quick without lightness, sharp without brittleness, desirous of good things without newfangleness, diligent in painful things without wearisomeness, and constant in good will to do all things well, as I know was in Sir John Cheke, and is in some that yet live, in whom all these fair qualities of wit are fully met together. But it is notable and true that Socrates saith in Plato to his friend Crito :—That that number of men is fewest which far exceed, either in good or ill, in wisdom or folly, but the mean betwixt both, be the greatest number, which he proveth true in divers other things, as in greyhounds, amongst which few are found exceeding great or exceeding little, exceeding swift or exceeding slow; and therefore, I speaking of quick and hard wits, I meant the common number of quick and hard wits amongst the which, for the most part., the hard wit proveth many times the better learned, wiser, and honester man; and therefore do I the more lament that such wits commonly be either kept from learning by fond fathers, or beat from learning by lewd schoolmasters. And speaking thus much of the wits of children for learning, the opportunity of the place, and goodness of the matter might require to have here declared the most special notes of a good wit for learning in a child, after the manner and custom of a good horseman, who 28 THE SCHOOLMASTER. is skilful to know, and able to tell others, liow by certain sure signs a man may choose a colt, that is like to prove another day excellent for the saddle. And it is pity that commonly more care is had, yea, and that amongst very wise men, to find out rather a cunning man for their horse than a cunning man for their children. They say nay in word, but they do so in deed. For, to the one, they will gladly give a stipend of 200 crowns by year, and loth to offer to the other 200 shillings. God, that sitteth in heaven, laugheth their choice to scorn, and rewardetli their liberality as it should; for He suffereth them to have tame and well ordered horse, but wild and unfortunate children, and, therefore, in the end they find more pleasure in their horse than comfort in their children. But concerning the true notes of the best wits for learning in a child, I will report, not mine own opinion, but the very judgment of him that was counted the best teacher and wisest man that learning maketh mention of, and that is Socrates in Plato, who expresseth orderly these seven plain notes to choose a good wit in a child for learning:— 1 . Elfl\ljKOOS. 6 . Zri'rrjTLKOS. 7 . iA.ewan"}$. THE SCHOOLMASTER. 29 And because I write English, and to Englishmen, I will plainly declare in English both what these words of Plato mean, and how aptly they be linked, and how orderly they follow one another. 1. Evcpvrjs. Is he that is apt by goodness of wit, and appliable by readiness of will, to learning, having all other qualities of the mind and parts of the body, that must another day serve learning, not troubled, mangled, and halved, but found whole, full, and able to do their office; as a tongue, not stammering, or ever hardly drawing forth words, but plain and ready to deliver the meaning of the mind; a voice, not soft, weak, piping, womanish, but audible, strong, and manlike; a countenance, not wearish and crabbed, but fair and comely; a personage, not wretched and deformed, but tall and goodly; for surely a comely countenance, with a goodly stature, giveth credit to learning and authority to the person; otherwise commonly, either open contempt, or privy disfavour doth hurt, or hinder, both person and learning. And, even as a fair stone requireth to be set in the finest gold, with the best workmanship, or else it loseth much of the grace and price, even so, excellency in learning, and namely divinity, joined with a comely personage, is a marvel¬ lous jewel in the world. And how can a comely body be better employed than to serve the fairest exercise 30 THE SCHOOLMASTER. of God’s greatest gift, and that is learning ? But commonly, the fairest bodies are bestowed on the foulest purposes. I would it were not so, and with examples herein I will not meddle; yet I wish, that those should both mind it, and meddle with it, which have most occasion to look to it, as good and wise fathers should do, and greatest authority to amend it, as good and wise magistrates ought to do; and yet I will not let openly to lament the unfortunate case of learning herein. For, if a father have four sons, three fair and well formed both mind and body, the fourth, wretched, lame, and deformed, his choice shall be, to put the worst to learning, as one good enough to become a scholar. I have spent the most part of my life in the university, and therefore I can bear good witness that many fathers commonly do thus; whereof, I have heard many wise, learned, and as good men as ever I knew, make great, and oft complain: a good horseman will choose no such colt, neither for his own, nor yet for his master’s saddle. And thus much of the first note. 2 . Mviinu'v. Good of memory: a special part of the first note tvi\o/xadr]s. Given to love learning : for though a child have all the gifts of nature at wish, and perfection of memory at will, yet if he have not a special love to learning, he shall never attain to much learning. And therefore Isocrates, one of the noblest schoolmasters that is in memory of learning, who taught kings and princes, as Halicarnassseus writetli, and out of whose school, as Tully saith, came forth more noble captains, more wise counsellors, than did out of Eperns’ horse at Troy. This Isocrates, I say, did cause to be written, at the entry of his school, in golden letters, this golden sentence, ear t\07TOVOS. Is he that hath a lust to labour, and a will to take 32 THE SCHOOLMASTER. pains. For, if a child have all the benefits of nature, with perfection of memory, love, like, and praise learning ever so much, yet if he be not of himself painful, he shall never attain unto it. And yet where love is present, labour is seldom absent, and namely in study of learning, and matters of the mind; and there¬ fore did Isocrates rightly judge, that if his scholar were tAonaOi)s, he cared for no more. Aristotle, vary¬ ing from Isocrates in private affairs of life, but agree¬ ing with Isocrates in common judgment of learning, for love and labour in learning is of the same opinion, uttered in these words, in his rhetoric ad Theodecten. Liberty kindleth love; love refuseth no labour; and labour obtaineth whatsoever it seeketh. And yet nevertheless, goodness of nature may do little good; perfection of memory may serve to small, use; all love may be employed in vain; any labour may be soon gravelled, if a man trust always to his own singular wit, and will not be glad sometime to hear, take advice, and learn of another; and therefore doth Socrates very notably add the fifth note. 5. 4>iAVj«oos. He that is glad to hear and learn of another. For otherwise, he shall stick with great trouble, where he might go easily forward; and also catch hardly a very little by his own toil, when he might gather quickly a good deal by another man’s teaching. But now THE SCHOOLMASTER. 33 there be some that have great love to learning, good lust to labour, be willing to learn of others, yet, either of a fond shamefastness, or else of a proud folly, they dare not, or will not, go to learn of another; and therefore doth Socrates wisely add the sixth note of a good wit in a child for learning, and that is : 6. Ztjttjt tubs. He that is naturally bold to ask any question, desi¬ rous to search out any doubt, not ashamed to learn of the meanest, not afraid to go to the greatest, until he be perfectly taught, and fully satisfied. The seventh and last point is: 7 . ^iKeTTClLVOS. He that loveth to be praised for well doing, at his father or master’s hand. A child of this nature will earnestly love learning, gladly labour for learning, willingly learn of another, boldly ask any doubt. And thus, by Socrates’ judgment, a good father, and a wise schoolmaster, should choose a child to make a scholar of that hath by nature the foresaid perfect qualities, and comely furniture, both of mind and body; hath memory, quick to receive, sure to keep, and ready to deliver; hath love to learning; hath lust to labour; hath desire to learn of others; hath boldness to ask any question; hath mind holy bent, to win praise by well doing. The two first points be special benefits of nature : b —137 84 THE SCHOOLMASTER. which nevertheless be well preserved, and much in¬ creased by good order. But as for the five last, love, labour, gladness to learn of others, boldness to ask doubts, and will to win praise, be won and maintained by the only wisdom and discretion of the schoolmaster. Which five points, whether a schoolmaster shall work sooner in a child, by fearful beating, or courteous handling, you that be wise, judge. Tet some men, wise in deed, but in this matter, more by severity of nature than any wisdom at all, do laugh at us when we thus wish and reason, that young children should rather be allured to learning by gentle¬ ness and love than compelled to learning by beating and fear. They say our reasons serve only to breed forth talk and pass away time, but we never saw a good schoolmaster do so, nor never read of a wise man that thought so. Tes, forsooth, as wise as they be, either in other men’s opinion or in their own conceit, I will bring the con¬ trary judgment of him who, they themselves shall confess, was as wise as they are, or else they may be justly thought to have small wit at all; and that is Socrates, whose judgment in Plato is plainly this in these words; which, because they be very notable, I will recite them in his own tongue: ovdev p.a.Qit]p.a /xera bovXelas XP^I P-a.vQa.vtiv : oi fxev yap tov (Tcviuaros ttovol /3'ia Trovov/j-tvoi, xelpov ovdev rb aru>/ia curspya^ovrai . i^uy?? piaLov ovdev e/ajaevev juaQvua ; in English thus, no learn- THE SCHOOLMASTER. ing ought to be learned with bondage; for bodily labours, wrought by compulsion, hurt not the body, but any learning learned by compulsion tarrieth not long in the mind. And why F For whatsoever the mind doth leam unwillingly with fear, the same it doth quickly forget without care. And lest proud wits, that love not to be contraried, but have lust to wrangle or trifle away truth, will say that Socrates meaneth not this of children’s teaching but of some other higher learning. Hear what Socrates in the same place doth more plainly say : (J.V iroivvv &ia, & apurre, robs ircuSas eV rots ,ua077,ua<7 iv, a\\k Tvai^ovras rpecpe, that is to say, and therefore, my dear friend, bring not up your children in learning by compulsion and fear, but by playing and pleasure. And you, that do read Plato, as you should, do well per¬ ceive that these be no questions asked by Socrates as doubts, but they be sentences first affirmed by Socrates as mere truths, and after given forth by Socrates as right rules most necessary to be marked, and fit to be followed of all them that would have children taught as they should. And in this council, judgment, and authority of Socrates I will repose myself until I meet with a man of the contrary mind whom I may justly take to be wiser than I think Socrates was. Fond schoolmasters neither can understand nor will follow this good counsel of Socrates, but wise riders, in their office, can and will do both; which is the only cause that commonly the young gentlemen of England go so 36 THE SCHOOLMASTER. unwillingly to school, and run so fast to the stable. For in very deed fond schoolmasters, by fear, do beat into them the hatred of learning, and wise riders, by gentle allurements, do breed up in them the love of riding. They find fear and bondage in schools, they feel liberty and freedom in stables; which causeth them utterly to abhor the one and most gladly to haunt the other. And I do not write- this that in exhorting to the one I would dissuade young gentlemen from the other: yea, I am sorry, with all my heart, that they be given no more to riding than they be; for of all out¬ ward qualities, to ride fair is most comely for himself, most necessary for his country, and the greater he is in blood, the greater is his praise, the more he doth exceed all other therein. It was one of the three ex¬ cellent praises amongst the noble gentlemen of the old Persians always to say truth, to ride fair, and shoot well; and so it was engraven upon Darius’s tomb, as Strabo beareth witness: “Darius the king, lieth buried here, Who in riding and shooting had never peer.” But, to our purpose, young men, by any means losing the love of learning, when by time they come to their own rule, they carry commonly from the school with them a perpetual hatred of their master, and a continual contempt of learning. If ten gentlemen be asked, why they forget so soon in court that which they were learn- THE SCHOOLMASTER. 37 ing so long in school, eight of them, or let me be blamed, will lay the fault on their ill handling by their schoolmasters. Cuspinian doth report that that noble Emperor Maximilian would lament very oft his misfortune herein. Tet, some will say that children of nature love pastime and mislike learning, because, in their kind, the one is easy and pleasant, the other hard and wearisome, which is an opinion not so true as some men ween; for the matter lieth not so much in the disposition of them that be young, as in the order and manner of bringing up by them that be old, nor yet in the difference of learning and pastime. For, beat a child if he dance not well, and cherish him though he learn not well, ye shall have him unwilling to go to dance, and glad to go to his book. Knock him always when he draweth his shaft ill, and favour him again though he fault at his book, ye shall have him very loth to be in the field and very willing to be in the school. Yea, I say more, and not of myself, but by the judgment of those from whom few wise men will gladly dissent, that if ever the nature of man be given at any time more than other to receive goodness, it is in innocence of young years, before that experience of evil have taken root in him. For the pure clean wit of a sweet young babe is like the newest wax, most able to receive the best and fairest printing, and Mke a new bright silver dish never 38 THE SCHOOLMASTER. occupied to receive and keep clean any good thing that is put into it. And thus, will in children, wisely wrought withal, may easily be won to be very well willing to learn. And wit in children, by nature, namely memory, the only key and keeper of all learning, is readiest to re¬ ceive and surest to keep any manner of thing that is learned in youth. This, lewd and learned, by common experience, know to be most true. For we remember nothing so well when we be old as those things which we learned when we were young; and this is not strange, but common in all nature’s works. Every man sees, as I said before, new wax is best for printing, new clay fittest for working, new shorn wool aptest for soon and surest dyeing, new fresh flesh for good and durable salting. And this similitude is not rude, nor borrowed of the larder house, but out of his schoolhouse, of whom the wisest of England need not be ashamed to learn. Young grafts grow not only soonest but also fairest, and bring always forth the best and sweetest fruit; young whelps learn easily to carry; young popinjays learn quickly to speak. And so, to be short, if in all other things, though they lack reason, sense, and life, the similitude of youth is fittest to all goodness, surely nature, in mankind, is most beneficial and effectual in this behalf. Therefore, if to the goodness of nature be joined the wisdom of the teacher in leading young wits into a THE SCHOOLMASTER. 39 right and plain way of learning, surely children, kept up in God’s fear, and governed by His grace, may most easily be brought well to serve God and country both by virtue and wisdom. But if will and wit, by farther age, be once allured from innocency, delighted in vain, sights, filled with foul talk, crooked with wilfulness, hardened with stubbornness, and let loose to disobedience, surely it is hard with gentleness, but impossible with severe cruelty, to call them back to good frame again. For, where the one perchance may bend it, the other shall surely break it; and so, instead of some hope, leave an assured desperation and shameless contempt of all goodness, the farthest point in all mischief, as Xeno¬ phon doth most truly and most wittily mark. Therefore, to love or to hate, to like or contemn, to ply this way or that way to good or to bad, ye shall have as ye use a child in his youth. And one example, whether love or fear doth work more in a child for virtue and learning, I will gladly report: which may be heard with some pleasure, and followed with more profit. Before I went into Ger¬ many I came to Broadgate, in Leicestershire, to take my leave of that noble Lady Jane Grey, to whom I was exceeding much beholding. Her parents, the duke and the duchess, with all the household, gentlemen, and gentlewomen, were hunting in the park. I found her in her chamber reading “ Phaedon Platonis ” in Greek, 40 THE SCHOOLMASTER. and that with as much delight as some gentlemen would read a merry tale in Bocase. After salutation and duty done, with some other talk, I asked her why she would lose such pastime in the park ? Smiling, she answered me, “ I wist all their sport in the park is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in Plato. Alas ! good folk, they never felt what true pleasure meant.” “ And how came you, madam,” quoth I, “to this deep knowledge of pleasure, and what did chiefly allure you unto it, seeing, not many women, but very few men, have attained thereunto P ” “ I will tell you,” quoth she; ‘‘and tell you a truth which, perchance, ye will marvel at. One of the greatest benefits that ever God gave me is that He sent me so sharp and severe parents and so gentle a schoolmaster. For when I am in pre¬ sence either of father or mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go, eat, drink, be merry or sad, be sewing, playing, dancing, or doing anything else, I must do it, as it were, in such weight, measure, and number, even so perfectly as God made the world, or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea, presently sometimes with pinches, nips, and bobs, and other ways which I will not name for the honour I bear them, so without measure misordered, that I think myself in hell till time come that I must go to M. Elmer, who teacheth me so gently, so pleasantly, with ♦ such fair allurements to learning, that I think all the time nothing whilst I am with him. And when I am THE SCHOOLMASTER. 41 called from Mm I fall on weeping, because whatsoever I do else but learning is full of grief, trouble, fear, and whole misliking unto me. And thus my book hath been so much my pleasure, and bringeth daily to me more pleasure and more, that in respect of it, all other pleasures, in very deed, be but trifles and troubles unto me.” I remember this talk gladly, both because it is so worthy of memory, and because also it was the last talk that ever I had and the last time that ever I saw that noble and worthy lady. I could be over long, both in showing just causes and in reciting true examples why learning should be taught rather by love than fear. He that would see a perfect discourse of it, let him read that learned treatise which my friend Joan. Sturmius wrote, “ De Institutione Principis ,” to the Duke of Cleves. The godly counsels of Solomon and Jesus, the son of Sirach, for sharp keeping in and bridling of youth, are meant rather for fatherly correction than masterly beating, rather for manners than for learning, for other places than for schools. For God forbid, but all evil touches wantonness, lying, picking, sloth, will, stubbornness, and disobedience should be with sharp chastisement daily cut away. This discipline was well known and diligently used among the Grecians and old Romans, as doth appear in Aristophanes, Isocrates, and Plato, and also in the comedies of Plautus, where we see that children were 42 THE SCHOOLMASTER. under tlie rule of three persons—preceptor, pedagogue, parent. The schoolmaster taught him learning with all gentleness, the governor corrected his manners with much sharpness, the father held the stern of his whole obedience ; and so he that used to teach did not commonly use to beat, but remitted that over to another man’s charge. But what shall we say when now in our days the schoolmaster is used both for pre¬ ceptor in learning and pedagogue in manners P Surely I would he should not confound their offices, but dis¬ creetly use the duty of both, so that neither ill touches should be left unpunished nor gentleness in teaching anywise omitted. And he shall well do both if wisely he do appoint diversity of time and separate place for either purpose ; using always such discreet moderation as the school-house should be counted a sanctuary against fear, and very well learning a common pardon for ill doing if the fault of itself be not over heinous. And thus the children, kept up in G-od’s fear and preserved by His grace, finding pain in ill doing, and pleasure in well studying, should easily be brought to honesty of life and perfectness of learning, the only mark that good and wise fathers do wish and labour that their children should most busily and carefully shoot at. There is another discommodity besides cruelty in schoolmasters in beating away the love of learning from children, which hindereth learning and virtue THE SCHOOLMASTER. 43 and good bringing up of youth, and namely young gentlemen, very much in England. This fault is clean contrary to the first. I wished before to have love of learning bred up in children. I wish as much now to have young men brought up in good order of living and in some more severe discipline than commonly they be. We have lack in England of such good order as the old noble Persians so carefully used, whose children, to the age of twenty-one years, were brought up in learning and exercises of labour, and that in such place where they should neither see that was uncomely nor hear that was unhonest. Tea, a young gentleman was never free to go where he would and do what he list himself, but under the keep and by the counsel of some grave governor, until he was either married or called to bear some office in the Commonwealth. And see the great obedience that was used in old time to fathers and governors. Xo son, were he never so old of years, never so great of birth, though he were a king’s son, might not marry but by his father's and mother’s also consent. Cyrus the Great, after he had conquered Babylon and subdued rich King Croesus with whole Asia Minor, coming triumphantly home, his uncle Cyaxeris offered him his daughter to wife. Cyrus thanked his uncle, and praised the maid, but for marriage he answered him with these wise and sweet words, as they be uttered by Xenophon, & Kva^dprj, ri 44 THE SCHOOLMASTER. t e yevos sttcuvS), kcli t)]v ‘ira'ida, nal Suipa. Bov\op.cu 8e, *(p7], ua. aXXoi ,ueu iravres eirevrp-qpijaav ’A x ai0 ^y aide7s ecpar\ eddeitrev 8’ 6 yepcov, Kal eire'iOero pvdep. j 8 tj 8 ’ azcecou irapa Q7va iroXv(pXoi(T^oio 6aXv, rode poi Kprpqvov eeAStcp' r larei&v Aavaol epa dd.Kpva pd(ra> de avev perpov , ♦ ou yap de ironjriKds' THE SCHOOLMASTER. m %Adev 6 Xpvcnjs rrjs re dvyarpbs Avrpa (pepwv, Kal Iksttjs rwv ’AxatcDi/, paXurra Se ra>v fSaaiAzcav: Kal evx^ro, 4ksIvois fxbv robs Oeobs Sovvai 4X6vras rr]v T polav, avrobs 84 crccdrjvai, rrjv 8c dvyarepa ol avrcp A vcrai, 8e£a/j.cvovs airoiva, Kal rbv Oebv a\8e ^ 4v lepu)v Ovcriais Kex a P L(r f J -* vov fiocpT}(rairo, Siv 8r] X° i P lv v.arevx^ro rural robs ’Axcuovs ra & SaKpva rois 4k€lvov BeXenv. To compare Homer and Plato together, two wonders of nature and art for wit and eloquence, is most pleasant and profitable for a man of ripe judgment. Plato’s turning of Homer in this place doth not ride aloft in poetical terms, but goeth low and soft on foot, as prose and ypedestris oratio should do. If Sulpicius had had Plato’s consideration in right using this exer¬ cise, he had not deserved the name of Tragicus Orator , who should rather have studied to express vim Demos- thenis than furorem Poetce, how good soever he was whom he did follow. And therefore would I have our schoolmaster weigh 120 THE SCHOOLMASTER. well together Homer and Plato, and mark diligently these four points—what is kept, what is added, what is left out, what is changed, either in choice of words or form of sentences; which four points be the right tools to handle like a workman this kind of work, as our scholar shall better understand when he hath been a good while in the university, to which time and place I chiefly remit this kind of exercise. And because I ever thought examples to be the best kind of teaching, I will recite a golden sentence out of that poet which is next unto Homer, not only in time but also in worthiness : which hath been a pattern for many worthy wits to follow by this kind of metaphrasis, but I will content myself with four workmen, two in Greek and two in Latin, such as in both the tongues wiser and worthier cannot be looked for. Surely no stone set in gold by most cunning workmen is, indeed, if right count be made, more worthy the looking on than this golden sentence diversely wrought upon by such four excellent masters :— 1. ovtos ulv tv avapicrros, bs avrbs tvolvt a vo^otcl ( ppaaad/Lievos, ra k eivtiTa Kai is reAoy 77071 / apielvu. 2. iaOXos o’ av Katceivos , bs ev elwovTi TTiQ-prai. 3. bs Oe K€ ju,7jt’ avTbs voe-q, yL'/ir' 1 aWov aKovccv eV 6v/J.co fiaWriTcu, 0 5’ avr ’ aai/ 77 /). Hesiodus. ['E pya. 293 — 297.] « Thus rudely turned into base English :— THE SCHOOLMASTER. 121 1. That man in wisdom passeth all, To know the best who hath a head. 2. And meetly wise eke counted shall, Who yields himself to wise men’s rede. 3. Who hath no wit, nor none will hear, Amongst all fools the bell may bear. 1 . eycaye, Trpecrfieveiv ttoXv (pvvai rbv avSpa iravr’ iTTKTT'qgris 7rAeo>. 2. el 8’ ovv ((piXel yap rovro grj ravrri peireiv) Ka\ riav \e\6vrwv ev, KaXbv rb gavBaveiv. Sophocles in Antigone. [720—723.] Mark the wisdom of Sophocles in leaving- out the last sentence, because it was not comely for the son to use it to his father. M egvrjade t ov 'HcriSbov, os (prjiTi, aoiarov gey elvai rbv Trap ’ eavrov ra Seovra ^vvopwvra. 2. 'EtfQXov be Kaxelvov, rbv rots Trap’ erepiov vTrooeixQ^&w errogevov. 3. 5e t rpbs ovberepov eTrir^beiov axp^ov elvai Trpbs airavra. D. Basileus in his Exhortation to Youth. [§ 1.] 1. Sapientissimum esse dicunt eum, cui, quod opus sit, ipsi veniat in mentem. 2. Proxime accedere ilium, qui alterirs bene inventis obtemperet. 3. In stultitia contra est: minus enim stultus est is, cui nihil in mentem venit, quam ille, qui quod stultk alteri venit in mentem comprobat. M. Cic., pro. A. Cluentio. [c. 31, § 84.] Cicero doth not plainly express the last sentence, but doth invent it fitly for his purpose to taunt the folly 122 THE SCHOOLMASTER. and simplicity in his adversary Attius, not weighing wisely the subtle doings of Chrysogonus and Stalenus. 1. Ssepe ego audivi, milites, eum primum esse virum, qui ipse consulat, quid in rem sit. 2. Secundum eum, qui bene monenti obediat. 3. Qui, nec ipse consulere, nec alteri parere scit, eum extremi esse ingenii. Tit. Livius in Orat. Minucii. Lib. 22. [c. 29.] Now, which of all these four, Sophocles, St. Basil, Cicero, or Livy, hath expressed Hesiodus best, the judgment is as hard as the workmanship of every one is most excellent indeed. Another example out of the Latin tongue also I will recite for the worthiness of the workman thereof, and that is Horace, who hath so turned the beginning of Terence’s Eunuchus, as doth work in me a pleasant admiration, as oft soever as I compare those two places together. And though every master, and every good scholar too, do know the places, both in Terence and Horace, yet I will set them here in one. place together, that with more pleasure they may be compared together. Quid igitur faciam ? non earn ? ne nunc quidem cum accersor ultro? an potius ita me comparem, non perpeti meretricum contumelias ? exclusit; revocat: redeam ? non, si me obsecret. [Parmeno a little after.] Here, quae res in se neque consilium neque modum habet ullum, earn consilio regere non potes. In Amore haec omnia insunt vitia; injuriae, suspiciones, inimicitiae, induciae, bellum, pax rursum. Incerta haec si tu postulea ratione certa facere, nihilo plus agas, quam si des operam, ut cum ratione insanias. Terentius in Eunucho. [i. l.] THE SCHOOLMASTER. 123 Nec nunc, cum me vocet ultro, Accedam ? an potius mediter finire dolores ? Exclusit; revocat: redeam ? non, si obsecret. Ecce Servus non paulo sapientior : o Here, quae res Nee modum habet neque consilium, ratione modoque Tractari non vult. In amore haec sunt mala, bellum, Pax rursum : haec si quis fempestatis prope ritu Mobilia, et caeca fluitantia sorte, laboret Reddere certa sibi, niliilo plus explicet, ac si Insanire paret certa ratione modoque. Horatius, lib. Ser. 2. Saty. 3. [262—271.] This exercise may bring much profit to ripe heads and staid judgments: because in travelling in it the mind must needs be very attentive and busily occupied in turning and tossing itself many ways and conferring with great pleasure the variety of worthy wits and judgments together. But this harm may soon come thereby, and namely to young scholars, lest in seeking other words and new form of sentences they chance upon the worse: for the which only cause Cicero thinketh this exercise not to be fit for young men. Epitome. This is a way of study belonging rather to matter than to words, to memory than to utterance, to those that be learned already, and hath small place at all amongst young scholars in grammar schools. It may profit privately some learned men, but it hath hurt 124 THE SCHOOLMASTER. generally learning itself very much. For "by it have we lost whole Trogus, the best part of T. Livius, the goodly dictionary of Pompeius Festus, a great deal of the civil law, and other many notable books, for the which cause I do the more mislike this exercise both in old and young. Epitome is good privately for himself that doth work it, but ill commonly for all other that use other men’s labour therein: a silly poor kind of study, not unlike to the doing of those poor folk which neither till nor sow nor reap themselves, but glean by stealth upon other men’s grounds. Such have empty barns for dear years. Grammar schools have few epitomes to hurt them except Epitheta Textoris, and such beggarly gather¬ ings as Horman, Whittington, and other like vulgars for making of Latins. Yea, I do wish that all rules for young scholars were shorter than they be. For with¬ out doubt grammatica itself is sooner and surer learned by examples of good authors than by the naked rules of grammarians. Epitome hurteth more in the uni¬ versities and study of philosophy; but most of all in divinity itself. Indeed, books of common-places be very necessary to induce a man into an orderly general knowledge, how to refer orderly all that he readeth ad certa rerum capita, and not wander in study. And to that end did P. Lomhardus, the master of sentences, and Ph. THE SCHOOLMASTER. 125 Melancthon in onr days write two notable books of common-places. But to dwell in epitomes and books of common¬ places, and not to bind himself daily by orderly study, to read with all diligence principally the holiest Scrip¬ ture, and, withal, the best doctors, and so to learn to make true difference betwixt the authority of the one and the counsel of the other, maketh so many seeming and sunburnt ministers as we have, whose learning- is gotten in a summer heat and washed away with a Christmas snow again, who nevertheless are less to be blamed than those blind buzzards who, in late years, of wilful maliciousness, would neither learn themselves nor could teach others anything at all. Paraphrasis hath done less hurt to learning than epitome, for no paraphrasis, though there be many, shall ever take away David's Psalter. Erasmus’ paraphrasis being never so good, shall never banish the New Testament. And in another school the paraphrasis of Brocardus or Sambucus shall never take Aristotle’s “ Rhetoric,” nor Horace’s de Arte Poetica out of learned men’s hands. But as concerning a school epitome, he that would have an example of it, let him read Lucian Trepl ndwovt, which is the very epitome of Isocrates’ oration de lau- dibus Helence, whereby he may learn at the least this wise lesson, that a man ought to beware to be over¬ bold in altering an excellent man’s work. 126 THE SCHOOLMASTER. Nevertheless, some kind of epitome may be used by men of skilful judgment to the great profit also of others. As if a wise man would take Hall’s “ Chron¬ icle,” where much good matter is quite marred with indenture English, and first change strange and ink- horn terms into proper and commonly used words ; next specially to weed out that that is superfluous and idle, not only where words be vainly heaped one upon another, but also where many sentences of one meaning be so clouted up together, as though M. Hall had been not writing the story of England, but varying a sen¬ tence in Hitching school; surely a wise learned man by this way of epitome, in cutting away .words and sentences and diminishing nothing at all of the matter, should leave to men’s use a story, half as much as it was in quantity, but twice as good as it was, both for pleasure and also commodity. Another kind of epitome may be used likewise very well to much profit. Some man either by lustiness of nature, or brought by ill teaching to a wrong judgment, is over full of words, sentences, and matter, and yet all his words be proper, apt, and well chosen: all his sentences be round and trimly framed; his whole matter grounded upon good reason and stuffed with full arguments for his intent and purpose. Yet when his talk shall be heard, or his writing be read of such one as is either of my two dearest friends, M. Haddon at home, or John Sturmius in Germany; that Nimium in THE SCHOOLMASTER. 127 him, which fools and unlearned will most commend, shall either of these two bite his lip, or shake his head at it. This fulness, as it is not to be misliked in a young man, so in farther age, in greater skill, and weightier affairs, it is to be temperated, or else discretion and judgment shall seem to be wanting in him. But if his style be still over-rank and lusty, as some men being never so old and spent by years will still be full of youthful conditions, as was Sir F. Bryan and evermore would have been, such a rank and full writer must use, if he will do wisely, the exercise of a very good kind of epitome, and do as certain wise men do that be over¬ fat and fleshy, who, leaving their own full and plentiful table, go to sojourn abroad from home for a while at the temperate diet of some sober man, and so by little and little cut away the grossness that is in them. As for an example : If Osorius would leave off his lusti¬ ness in striving against St. Austen, and his over-rank railing against poor Luther and the truth of God’s doctrine, and give his whole study, not to write anything of his own for a while, but to translate Demosthenes with so straight, fast, and temperate a style in Latin as he is in Greek, he would become so perfect and pure a writer, I believe, as hath been few or none since Cicero’s days; and so by doing himself and all learned much good, do others less harm, and Christ’s doctrine less injury than he doth, and withal win unto himself 128 THE SCHOOLMASTER. many worthy friends, wlio agreeing with him gladly in the love and liking of excellent learning, are sorry to see so worthy a wit, so rare eloquence, wholly spent and consumed in striving with God and good men. Among the rest, no man doth lament him more than I, not only for the excellent learning that I see in him, but also because there hath passed privately betwixt him and me sure tokens of much goodwill and friendly opinion the one towards the other. And surely the distance betwixt London and Lisbon should not stop any kind of friendly duty that I could either show to him or do to his, if the greatest matter of all did not in certain points separate our minds. And yet for my part, both towards him and divers others here at home, for like cause of excellent learning, great wisdom, and gentle humanity, which I have seen in them, and felt at their hands myself, where the matter of difference is mere conscience in a quiet mind inwardly, and not contentious malice with spiteful railing openly, I can be content to follow this rule, in misliking some one thing, not to hate for anything else. But as for all the bloody beasts, as that fat boar of the wood, or those brawling bulls of Basan, or any lurking dormouse, blind not by nature, but by malice, and as may be gathered of their own testimony, given over to blindness forgiving over God and his Word; oi such as be so lusty runagates as first run from God and THE SCHOOLMASTER. 129 His true doctrine, then from their lords, masters, and all duty, next from themselves and out of their wits, lastly from their prince, country, and all due allegiance, whether they ought rather to be pitied of good men for their misery, or contemned of wise men for their malicious folly, let good and wise men determine. And to return to epitome again, some will judge much boldness in me thus to judge of Osorius’s style ; but wise men do know that mean lookers-on may truly say for a well-made picture, “ This face had been more comely if that high red in the cheek were somewhat more pure sanguine than it is : ” and yet the stander-by cannot amend it himself by any way. And this is not written to the dispraise, but to the great commendation of Osorius, because Tully himself had the same fulness in him, and therefore went to Rhodes to cut it away, and saith himself, “ Becepi me domum prope mutatus, nam quasi referverat jam oratio .” Which was brought to pass, I believe, not only by the teaching of Molo Apollonius, but also by a good way of epitome, in binding himself to translate rrieros Atticos Oratores, and so to bring his style from all low grossness to such firm fastness in Latin as is in Demosthenes in Greek. And this to be most true may easily be gathered, not only of L. Crassus’ talk, in de Or., but specially of Cicero’s own deed in translating Demosthenes and iEschinus’ orations Trepi