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throughout, very closely followed it. To use the words of a profound modern scholar, 'It is astonishing how little obsolete the language of it is, even at this day; and, in point of perspicuity and noble simplicity, propriety of idiom, and purity of style, no English version has yet surpassed it.'* A beautiful edition of it has lately been published.t The following are Tyndale's translations of the Magnificat and Lord's Prayer, in the spelling of the original edition :

And Mary sayde, My soule magnifieth the Lorde, and my sprete reioyseth in God my Savioure.

For he hath loked on the povre degre off his honde mayden. Beholde nowe from hens forthe shall all generacions call me blessed.

For he that is myghty hath done to me greate thinges, and blessed ys his name:

And hys mercy is always on them that feare him thorow oute all generacions.

These translations were speedily followed by others, so that the desire of the people for scriptural knowledge was amply gratified. The dissemination of so many copies of the sacred volume, where neither the Bible nor any considerable number of other books had formerly been in use, produced very remarkable effects. The versions first used, having been formed in some measure from the Latin translation, called the Vulgate, contained many words from that language, which had hardly before been considered as English; such as perdition, consolation, reconciliation, sanctification, immortality, frustrate, inexcusable, transfigure, and many others requisite for the expression of compound and abstract ideas, which had never occurred to our Saxon ancestors, and therefore were not represented by any terms in that language. These words, in the course of time, became part of ordinary discourse, and thus the language was enriched. In the Book of Common Prayer, compiled in the subsequent reign of Edward VI., and which affords many beautiful specimens of the English of that time, the efforts of the learned to make such words familiar, are perceptible in many places; where a Latin term is often given with a Saxon word of the same or nearly the same meaning following it, as humble and lowly,' 'assemble and meet together.' Another effect proceeded from the freedom with which the people were allowed to judge of the doctrines, and canvass the texts, of the sacred writings. The keen interest with which they now perused the Bible, hitherto a closed book to the most of them, is allowed to have given the first imOure Father which arte in heven, halowed be thy pulse to the practice of reading in both parts of the name. Let thy kingdom come. Thy wyll be ful-island, and to have been one of the causes of the filled, as well in erth, as hit ys in heven. Geve vs flourishing literary era which followed. this daye oure dayly breade. And forgeve vs oure treaspases, even as we forgeve them which treaspas V8. Leede vs not into temptacion, but delyvre vs from yvell. Amen.

He hath shewed strengthe with his arme; he hath scattered them that are proude in the ymaginacion of their hertes.

He hath putt doune the myghty from their seates, and hath exalted them of lowe degre.

He hath filled the hongry with goode thinges, and hath sent away the ryche empty.

He hath remembred mercy, and hath holpen his servaunt Israhel.

Even as he promised to oure fathers, Abraham and to his seed for ever.

MILES COVERDALE.

In translating the Pentateuch, Tyndale was assisted by MILES COVERDALE, who, in 1535, published the first English translation of the whole Scriptures, with this title: Biblia, the Bible; That is, the Holy Scripture of the Olde and New Testament, faithfully and newly translated out of the Doutche and Latyn into English. Coverdale was made bishop of Exeter in 1551, but retired to the Continent during the reign of Mary. When Elizabeth ascended the throne, he returned to England, and remained there till his death. His translation of the Bible has lately been reprinted in London. The extent of its variation from that of Tyndale will appear by contrasting the following verse, as rendered by each translator:

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SIR JOHN CHEKE.

Among the great men of this age, a high place is due to SIR JOHN CHEKE, (1514-1557), professor of Greek at Cambridge, and one of the preceptors of

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the prince, afterwards Edward VI. He is chiefly distinguished for his exertions in introducing the study of the Greek language and literature into England. Having dictated to his pupils an improved mode of pronouncing Greek words, he was violently assailed on that account by Bishop Gardiner, then

chancellor of the university; but, notwithstanding the fulminations of this severe prelate, the system of Cheke prevailed, and still prevails. At his death, which was supposed to be occasioned by remorse for recanting Protestantism under the terror of the Marian persecution, he left several works in manuscript, amongst which was a translation of Matthew's Gospel, intended to exemplify a plan which he had conceived of reforming the English language by eradicating all words except those derived from Saxon roots. He also contemplated a reform in the spelling of English, an idea which has occurred to several learned men, but seems to be amongst the most hopeless ever entertained by the learned. The only original work of Cheke in English is a pamphlet, published in 1549, under the title of The Hurt of Sedition, how grievous it is to a Commonwealth, being designed to admonish the people who had risen under Ket the tanner. Of this, a specimen is subjoined.

[Remonstrance with Levellers.]

Ye pretend to a commonwealth. How amend ye it by killing of gentlemen, by spoiling of gentlemen, by imprisoning of gentlemen? A marvellous tanned commonwealth. Why should ye hate them for their riches, or for their rule? Rule, they never took so much in hand as ye do now. They never resisted the king, never withstood his council, be faithful at this day, when ye be faithless, not only to the king, whose subjects ye be, but also to your lords, whose tenants ye be. Is this your true duty-in some of homage, in most of fealty, in all of allegiance to leave your duties, go back from your promises, fall from your faith, and contrary to law and truth, to make unlawful assemblies, ungodly companies, wicked and detestable camps, to disobey your betters, and to obey your tanners, to change your obedience from a king to a Ket, to submit yourselves to traitors, and break your faith to your true king and lords?

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If riches offend you, because ye would have the like, then think that to be no commonwealth, but envy to the commonwealth. Envy it is to appair2 another man's estate, without the amendment of your own; and to have no gentlemen, because ye be none yourselves, is to bring down an estate, and to mend none. Would ye have all alike rich? That is the overthrow of all labour, and utter decay of work in this realm. For, who will labour more, if, when he hath gotten more, the idle shall by lust, without right, take what him list from him, under pretence of equality with him? This is the bringing in of idleness, which destroyeth the commonwealth, and not the amendment of labour, which maintaineth the commonwealth. If there should be such equality, then ye take all hope away from yours, to come to any better estate than you now leave them. And as many mean men's children come honestly up, and are great succour to all their stock, so should none be hereafter holpen by you. But because you seek equality, whereby all cannot be rich, ye would that belike, whereby every man should be poor. And think beside, that riches and inheritance be God's providence, and given to whom of his wisdom he thinketh good.

THOMAS WILSON.

lished, in 1553, a System of Rhetoric and of Logic, in which the principles of eloquence and composition are laid down with considerable ability. He strongly advocates, in this treatise, simplicity of language, and condemns those writers who disturb the natural arrangement of their words, and reject familiar and appropriate phrases for the sake of others more refined and curious. So great and dangerous an innovation were his doctrines considered, that, happening to visit Rome, he was imprisoned as a heretic. Amongst other false styles censured by Wilson is that of alliteration, of which he gives the following caricatured example:-'Pitiful poverty prayeth for a penny, but puffed presumption passeth not a point, pampering his paunch with pestilent pleasure, procuring his passport to post it to hell-pit, there to be punished with pains perpetual.' Wilson died in 1581. There is much good sense in the following passages of his Art of Rhetoric :

[Simplicity of Style Recommended.]

Among other lessons, this should first be learned, that we never affect any strange inkhorn terms, but to speak as is commonly received; neither seeking to be over fine, nor yet living over careless; using our fewest have doen. Some seek so far for outlandish speech as most men do, and ordering our wits as the English, that they forget altogether their mother's language. And I dare swear this, if some of their mothers were alive, they were not able to tell what they say, and yet these fine English clerks will say they speak in their mother tongue, if a man should charge them with counterfeiting the king's English. Some far journied gentlemen, at their return home, like as they love to go in foreign apparel, so they will ponder their talk with over-sea language. He that cometh lately out of France will talk French English, and never blush at the matter. Another chops in with to our English speaking; the which is, as if an oraEnglish Italianated, and applieth the Italian phrase tion that professeth to utter his mind in plain Latin, would needs speak poetry, and far-fetched colours of strange antiquity. The lawyer will store his stomach with the prating of pedlars. The auditor in making his account and reckoning, cometh in with sise sould, et cater denere, for 6s. and 4d. The fine courtier will talk nothing but Chaucer. The mystical wise men, and poetical clerks, will speak nothing but quaint proverbs and blind allegories; delighting much in their own darkness, especially when none can tell what they do say. The unlearned or foolish fantastical, that smells but of learning (such fellows as have seen learned men in their days), will so Latin their tongues, that the simple cannot but wonder at their talk, and think surely they speak by some revelation. I know them, that think rhetoric to stand wholly upon dark words; and he that can catch an inkhorn term by the tail, him they count to be a fine Englishman and a good rhetorician.

[Moral Aim of Poetry.]

The saying of poets, and all their fables, are not to be forgotten. For by them we may talk at large, and win men by persuasion, if we declare beforehand, that these tales were not feigned of such wise men without cause, neither yet continued until this time and kept in memory, without good consideration; and thereupon declare the true meaning of all such writing. For undoubtedly, there is no one tale among all the

THOMAS WILSON, originally a fellow of King's College, Cambridge, and who rose to be Dean of Durham, and to various high state employments under Elizabeth, may be considered as the first critical writer upon the English language.* He pub-poets, but under the same is comprehended something

1 Alluding to the profession of the ringleader. 2 Impair. * Burnett. Specimens of English Prose Writers.

that pertaineth either to the amendment of manners, to the knowledge of truth, to the setting forth nature's work, or else to the understanding of some notable

thing doen. For what other is the painful travail of Ulysses, described so largely by Homer, but a lively picture of man's misery in this life? And as Plutarch saith, and likewise Basilius Magnus, in the Iliads are described strength and valiantness of body: in Odyssea | is set forth a lively pattern of the mind. The poets are wise men, and wished in heart the redress of things; the which when for fear they durst not openly rebuke, they did in colours paint them out, and told men by shadows what they should do in good sothe: or else, because the wicked were unworthy to hear the truth, they spake so that none might understand but those unto whom they please to utter their meaning, and knew them to be of honest conversation.

ROGER ASCHAM.

A still more distinguished instructive writer of this age was ROGER ASCHAM, university orator at Cambridge, at one time preceptor, and ultimately Latin secretary, to Queen Elizabeth. He must be

Aschamus..

considered as the first writer on education in our language, and it is remarkable that many of his views on this subject accord with the most enlightened of modern times. His writings themselves furnished an improved example of style, and they abound in sound sense and excellent instructions. We are the more called on to admire them, when we reflect on the tendency of learned men in that age to waste their talents and acquirements on profitless controversy-which was so strong a passion, that, whenever Sir John Cheke was temporarily absent from Cambridge, his associates immediately forsook the elegant studies to which he had tempted them, and fell into disputes about predestination, original sin, &c. Ascham died in 1568, and Elizabeth did him the honour to remark, that she would rather have given ten thousand pounds than lost him. His principal work, The Schoolmaster, printed by his widow, contains, besides the good general views of education above alluded to, what Johnson has acknowledged to be perhaps the best advice that ever was given for the study of languages.' It also presents judicious characters of ancient authors. Another work, entitled Toxophilus, published in 1544, is a dialogue on the art of Archery, designed to promote an elegant and useful mode of recreation among those who, like himself, gave most of their time to study, and also to exemplify a style of composition more purely English, than what was generally practised. Ascham also wrote a discourse on the affairs of Germany, where he had spent three years in attendance on the English ambassador during the reign of Edward VI. The following extracts from Ascham's writings show generally an intellect much in advance of his age :

[Study should be Relieved by Amusement.]

[The following is from the opening of the Toxophilus. It may be remarked, that what was good sense and sound philosophy in Ascham's time is so still, and at the present time the lesson is not less required than it was then.]

* Philologus. How much in this matter is to be given to the authority of Aristotle or Tully, I cannot tell, seeing sad men may well enough speak

merrily for a mere matter; this I am sure, which thing this fair wheat (God save it) maketh me remember, that those husbandmen which rise earliest, and come latest home, and are content to have their dinner and other drinkings brought into the field to them, for fear of losing of time, have fatter barns in the harvest, than they which will either sleep at noontime of the day, or else make merry with their neighbours at the ale. And so a scholar, that purposeth to be a good husband, and desireth to reap and enjoy much fruit of learning, must till and sow thereafter. Our best seed time, which be scholars, as it is very timely, and when we be young; so it endureth not over long, and therefore it may not be let slip one hour; our ground is very hard and full of weeds, our horse wherewith we be drawn very wild, as Plato saith. And infinite other mo lets, which will time in sport and play. Toxophilus.-That Aristotle and make a thrifty scholar take heed how he spendeth his Tully spake earnestly, and as they thought, the earnest matter which they entreat upon, doth plainly prove. And as for your husbandry, it was more probably told with apt words, proper to the thing, than thoroughly proved with reasons belonging to our matter. For, contrarywise, I heard myself a good husband at his book once say, that to omit study for some time of the day, and some time of the year, made as much for the increase of learning, as to let the land lie some time fallow, maketh for the better increase of corn. This we see, if the land be ploughed every year, the corn cometh thin up; the ear is short, the grain is small, and when it is brought into the barn and threshed, giveth very evil faule. So those which never leave poring on their books, have oftentimes as thin invention, as other poor men have, and as small wit and weight in it as in other men's. And thus your husbandry, methink, is more like the life of a covetous snudge, that oft very evil proves, than the labour of a good husband, that knoweth well what he doth. And surely the best wits to learning must needs have much recreation, and ceasing from their book, or else they mar themselves; when base and dumpish wits can never be hurt with continual study; as ye see in luting, that a treble minikin string must always be let down, but at such time as when a man must needs play, when the base and dull string needeth never to be moved out of his place. The same reason I find true in two bows that I have, whereof the one is quick of cast, trig and trim, both for pleasure and profit; the other is a lugge slow of cast, following the string, more sure for to last than pleasant for to use. Now, Sir, it chanced this other night, one in my chamber would needs bend them to prove their strength, but (I cannot tell how) they were both left bent till the next day after dinner; and when I came to them, purposing to have gone on shooting, I found my good bow clean cast on the one side, and as weak as water, that surely, if I were a rich man, I had rather have spent a crown; and as for my lugge, it was not one whit the worse, but shot by and by as well and as far as ever it did. And even so, I am sure that good wits, except they be let down like a treble string, and unbent like a good casting bow, they will never last and be able to continue in study. And I know where I speak this, Philologe, for I would not say thus much afore young men, for they will take soon occasion to study little enough. But I say it, therefore, because I know, as little study getteth little learning, or none at all, so the most study getteth not the most learning of all. For a man's wit, fore-occupied in earnest study, must be as well recreated with some honest pastime, as the body, fore-laboured, must be refreshed with sleep and quietness, or else it cannot endure very long, as the noble poet saith:

• What thing wants quiet and merry rest, endures but a small while.'

[The Blowing of the Wind.]

[In the Toxophilus, Ascham has occasion to treat very minutely the difficulties which the archer experiences from the blowing of the wind. His own experience of these difficulties in the course of his sport, seems to have made him a natural philosopher to that extent, before the proper time.]

court, which be born and be fitter rather for the cart; some to be masters and rule other, which never yet began to rule themselves; some always to jangle and talk, which rather should hear and keep silence; some to teach, which rather should learn; some to be priests, which were fitter to be clerks. And this perverse judgment of the world, when men measure themselves amiss, bringeth much disorder and great unseemliness to the whole body of the commonwealth, as if a man should wear his hose upon his head, or a woman go with a sword and a buckler, every man would take it as a great uncomeliness, although it be but a trifle in respect of the other.

This perverse judgement of men hindereth nothing be unfittest for learning, be chiefly set to learning. so much as learning, because commonly those that As if a man now-a-days have two sons, the one impotent, weak, sickly, lisping, stuttering, and stammering, or having any mis-shape in his body; what doth the father of such one commonly say? This boy is fit for nothing else, but to set to learning and make a priest of, as who would say, the outcasts of the world, having neither countenance, tongue, nor wit (for of a perverse body cometh commonly a perverse mind), be good enough to make those men of, which shall be appointed to preach God's holy word, and minister his blessed sacraments, besides other most weighty matters in the commonwealth; put oft times, and worthily, to learned men's discretion and charge; when rather such an office so high in dignity, so goodly in which administration, should be committed to no man, should not have a countenance full of comeliness, to allure good men, a body full of manly authority to fear ill men, a wit apt for all learning, with tongue And although and voice able to persuade all men. few such men as these can be found in a commonwealth, yet surely a goodly disposed man will both in his mind think fit, and with all his study labour to get such men as I speak of, or rather better, if better can be gotten, for such an high administration, which is most properly appointed to God's own mat

To see the wind with a man's eyes, it is impossible, the nature of it is so fine and subtle; yet this experience of the wind had I once myself, and that was in the great snow which fell four years ago. I rode in the high way betwixt Topcliff upon Swale and Boroughbridge, the way being somewhat trodden afore by wayfaring men; the fields on both sides were plain, and lay almost yard deep with snow; the night before had been a little frost, so that the snow was hard and crusted above; that morning the sun shone bright and clear, the wind was whistling aloft, and sharp, according to the time of the year; the snow in the highway lay loose and trodden with horse feet; so as the wind blew, it took the loose snow with it, and made it so slide upon the snow in the field, which was hard and crusted by reason of the frost overnight, that thereby I might see very well the whole nature of the wind as it blew that day. And I had a great delight and pleasure to mark it, which maketh me now far better to remember it. Sometime the wind would be not past two yards broad, and so it would carry the snow as far as I could see. Another time the snow would blow over half the field at once. Sometime the snow would tumble softly, bye and bye it would fly wonderful fast. And this I perceived also, that the wind goeth by streams and not whole together. For I should see one stream within a score on me, then the space of two score, no snow would stir, but, after so much quantity of ground, another stream of snow, at the same very time, should be carried likewise, but not equally; for the one would stand still, when the other flew apace, and so continue sometime swiftlier, sometime slowlier, sometime broader, sometime narrower, as far as I could see. Nor it flew not straight, but sometime it crooked this way, sometimeters and businesses. that way, and sometime it ran round about in a comThis perverse judgment of fathers, as concerning pass. And sometime the snow would be lift clean the fitness and unfitness of their children, causeth the from the ground up to the air, and bye and bye it commonwealth have many unfit ministers: and seeing would be all clapt to the ground, as though there had that ministers be, as a man would say, instruments been no wind at all; straightway it would rise and fly wherewith the commonwealth doth work all her matagain. And that which was the most marvel of all, ters withal, I marvel how it chanceth that a poor shoeat one time two drifts of snow flew, the one out of the maker hath so much wit, that he will prepare no west into the east, the other out of the north into the instrument for his science, neither knife nor awl, nor east. And I saw two winds, by reason of the snow, nothing else, which is not very fit for him. The comthe one cross over the other, as it had been two high-monwealth can be content to take at a fond father's ways. And again, I should hear the wind blow in hand the riffraff of the world, to make those instruthe air, when nothing was stirred at the ground. Andments of wherewithal she should work the highest when all was still where I rode, not very far from me the snow should be lifted wonderfully. This experience made me more marvel at the nature of the wind, than it made me cunning in the knowledge of the wind; but yet thereby I learned perfectly that it is no marvel at all, though men in wind lose their length in shooting, seeing so many ways the wind is so variable in blowing.

[Occupations should be chosen suitable to the Natural Faculties.]

If men would go about matters which they should do, and be fit for, and not such things which wilfully they desire, and yet be unfit for, verily greater matters in the commonwealth than shooting should be in better case than they be. This ignorance in men which know not for what time, and to what thing they be fit, causeth some wish to be rich, for whom it were better a great deal to be poor; other to be meddling in every man's matter, for whom it were more honesty to be quiet and still; some to desire to be in the

matters under heaven. And surely an awl of lead is not so unprofitable in a shoemaker's shop, as an unfit minister made of gross metal is unseemly in the commonwealth. Fathers in old time, among the noble Persians, might not do with their children as they thought good, but as the judgment of the commonwealth always thought best. This fault of fathers bringeth many a blot with it, to the great deformity of the commonwealth and here surely I can praise gentlewomen, which have always at hand their glasses, to see if any thing be amiss, and so will amend it; yet the commonwealth, having the glass of knowledge in every man's hand, doth see such uncomeliness in it, and yet winketh at it. This fault, and many such like, might be soon wiped away, if fathers would bestow their children always on that thing, whereunto nature hath ordained them most apt and fit. For if youth be grafted straight and not awry, the whole commonwealth will flourish thereafter. When this is done, then must every man begin to be more ready to amend himself, than to check another, measuring their matters with that wise proverb of Apollo, Know

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thyself: that is to say, learn to know what thou art few, whether your example be old or young, who withable, fit, and apt unto, and follow that.

[Detached Observations from the Schoolmaster.] It is pity that commonly more care is had, and that among very wise men, to find out rather a cunning man for their horse, than a cunning man for their children. To the one they will gladly give a stipend of 200 crowns by the year, and loth to offer the other 200 shillings. God, that sitteth in heaven, laugheth their choice to scorn, and rewardeth their liberality as it should; for he suffereth them to have tame and well ordered horse, but wild and unfortunate children.

out learning have gathered, by long experience a little wisdom, and some happiness; and when you do consider what mischief they have committed, what dangers they have escaped (and yet twenty for one do perish in the adventure), then think well with yourself, whether ye would that your own son should come to wisdom and happiness by the way of such experience or no.

It is a notable tale, that old Sir Roger Chamloe, sometime chief justice would tell of himself. When he was Ancient in inn of court certain young gentletain misorders; and one of the lustiest said, 'Sir, we men were brought before him to be corrected for cerbe young gentlemen; and wise men before us have proved all fashions, and yet those have done full well.' This they said, because it was well known, Sir Roger had been a good fellow in his youth. But he answered them very wisely. Indeed,' saith he, 'in

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Thus, experience of all fashions in youth, being in proof always dangerous, in issue seldom lucky, is a way indeed to overmuch knowledge; yet used comcurious affection of mind, or driven by some hard monly of such men, which be either carried by some necessity of life, to hazard the trial of overmany peri

lous adventures.

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 Germany, I came to Broadgate, in Leicestershire, to take my leave of that noble Lady Jane Grey, to whom I was exceed-youth I was as you are now and I had twelve fellows ing much beholden. Her parents, the duke and the end. And therefore, follow not my example in youth, like unto myself, but not one of them came to a good duchess, with all the household, gentlemen and gentle- but follow my counsel in age, if ever ye think to women, were hunting in the park. I found her in her come to this place, or to these years, that I am come chamber, reading Phoedon Platonis in Greek, and that unto; less ye meet either with poverty or Tyburn in with as much delight, as some gentlemen would read the way.' a merry tale in Bocace. 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 wiss, 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 [In favour of the learning of more languages than men, have attained thereunto?' 'I will tell you,' one]-I have been a looker on in the cockpit of learnquoth she, and tell you a truth which, perchance, ye ing these many years; and one cock only have I will marvel at. One of the greatest benefits that ever known, which, with one wing, even at this day, doth God gave me, is, that he sent me so sharp and severe pass all other, in mine opinion, that ever I saw in parents, and so gentle a schoolmaster. For when I any pit in England, though they had two wings. Yet am in presence either of father or mother, whether I nevertheless, to fly well with one wing, to run fast speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go, eat, drink, be with one leg, be rather rare masteries, much to be merry or sad, be sewing, playing, dancing, or doing marvelled at, than sure examples, safely to be folanything else, I must do it, as it were, in such weight, lowed. A bishop that now liveth a good man, whose measure, and number, even so perfectly as God made judgment in religion I better like, than his opinion the world, or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly in perfectness in other learning, said once unto me; threatened, yea, presently, sometimes with pinches,We have no need now of the Greek tongue, when all nips, and bobs, and other ways, which I will not things be translated into Latin.' But the good man name for the honour I bear them, so without measure understood not, that even the best translation, is for misordered, that I think myself in hell, till time come mere necessity but an evil imped wing to fly withal, that I must go to Mr Elmer; who teacheth me so or a heavy stump leg of wood to go withal. Such, gently, so pleasantly, with such fair allurements to the higher they fly, the sooner they falter and fail : learning, that I think all the time nothing, whiles I the faster they run the ofter they stumble and sorer am with him. And when I am called from him, I they fall. Such as will needs so fly, may fly at a fall on weeping, because, whatever I do else, but learn- pye and catch a daw: and such runners, as commonly ing, is full of grief, trouble, fear, and whole misliking they, shove and shoulder, to stand foremost, yet in And thus my book hath been so much my the end they come behind others, and deserve but pleasure, and bringeth daily to me more pleasure and the hopshackles, if the masters of the game be right more, that, in respect of it, all other pleasures, in judgers. very deed, be but trifles and troubles unto me.'

unto me.

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[With reference to what took place at the univerLearning teacheth more in one year than experience sities on the accession of Mary]-And what good could in twenty; and learning teacheth safely when expe- chance then to the universities, when some of the rience maketh mo miserable than wise. He hazardeth greatest, though not of the wisest, nor best learned, sore that waxeth wise by experience. An unhappy nor best men neither of that side, did labour to permaster he is, that is made cunning by many ship-suade, that ignorance was better than knowledge,' wrecks; a miserable merchant, that is neither rich which they meant, not for the laity only, but also for nor wise but after some bankrouts. It is costly the greatest rabble of their spirituality, what other And therefore wisdom that is bought by experience. We know by pretence openly soever they made. experience itself, that it is a marvelous pain, to find did some of them at Cambridge (whom I will not out but a short way by long wandering. And surely, name openly) cause hedge priests fettel out of the he that would prove wise by experience, he may be country, to be made fellows in the university; saying in their talk privily, and declaring by their deeds witty indeed, but even like a swift runner, that runneth fast out of his way, and upon the night, he openly, that he was fellow good enough for their knoweth not whither. And verily they be fewest in time, if he could wear a gown and a tippet comely, and number that be happy or wise by unlearned expe- have his crown shorn fair and roundly; and could rience. And look well upon the former life of those

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