No More Learning

Going a
little further still, he met a man driving a fat pig before him;
and thinking it better to have a fat pig than a horse, he made an
exchange with him also. A little further on he met a man with
a goat. "A goat," thought he, "is always better to have than a
pig;" so he made an exchange with the owner of the goat.
He
now walked on for an hour, when he met a man with a sheep;
with him he exchanged his goat: "for," thought he, "it is always
better to have a sheep than a goat. " After walking some way
again, meeting a man with a goose, he changed away the sheep
for the goose; then going on a long way, he met a man with a
cock, and thought to himself, "It is better to have a cock than a
goose,' " and so gave his goose for the cock. Having walked on
till the day was far gone, and beginning to feel hungry, he sold
the cock for twelve shillings, and bought some food; "for,"
thought he, "it is better to support life than to carry back the
cock. " After this he continued his way homeward till he reached
the house of his nearest neighbor, where he called in.
"How have matters gone with you in town? " asked the
neighbor.
"Oh," answered Gudbrand, "but so-so; I
luck, neither can I exactly complain of it. "
relate all that he had done from first to last.
cannot boast of my
He then began to
"You'll meet with a warm reception when you get home to
your wife," said his neighbor. "God help you, I would not be in
your place. "
"I think things might have been much worse," said Gudbrand;
"but whether they are good or bad, I have such a gentle wife
that she will never say a word, let me do what I may. "
"Yes, that I know," answered his neighbor; "but I do not
think she will be so gentle in this instance. "
"Shall we lay a wager? " said Gudbrand of the Mountain-side.
"I have got a hundred dollars in my chest at home; will you
venture the like sum? "
"Yes, I will," replied the neighbor, and they wagered accord-
ingly, and remained till evening drew on, when they set out
together for Gudbrand's house; having agreed that the neighbor
should stand outside and listen, while Gudbrand went in to meet
his wife.
"Good-evening," said Gudbrand.
"Good-evening," said his wife, "thank God thou art there. "


## p. 908 (#330) ############################################

908
PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN
Yes, there he was. His wife then began asking him how he
had fared in the town.
«< So-so," said Gudbrand: "I have not much to boast of; for
when I reached the town there was no one who would buy the
cow, so I changed it for a horse. '
>>
"Many thanks for that," said his wife: "we are such respect-
able people that we ought to ride to church as well as others; and
if we can afford to keep a horse, we may certainly have one. Go
and put the horse in the stable, children. ”
"Oh," said Gudbrand, "but I have not got the horse; for as
I went along the road, I exchanged the horse for a pig. "
"Well," said the woman, "that is just what I should have
done myself; I thank thee for that. I can now have pork and
bacon in my house to offer anybody when they come to see us.
What should we have done with a horse? People would only
have said we were grown too proud to walk to church. Go, chil-
dren, and put the pig in. "
"But I have not brought the pig with me," exclaimed Gud-
brand; "for when I had gone a little further on, I exchanged it
for a milch goat. ' >>>
"How admirably thou dost everything," exclaimed his wife.
"What should we have done with a pig? People would only
have said that we eat everything we own. Yes, now that I have
a goat, I can get both milk and cheese, and still keep my goat.
Go and tie the goat, children. "
"No," said Gudbrand, "I have not brought home the goat;
for when I came a little further on, I changed the goat for a
fine sheep. "
"Well," cried the woman, "thou hast done everything just as
I could wish; just as if I had been there myself. What should
we have done with a goat? I must have climbed up the mount-
ains and wandered through the valleys to bring it home in the
evening. With a sheep I should have wool and clothing in the
house, with food into the bargain. So go, children, and put the
sheep into the field. "
"But I have not got the sheep," said Gudbrand, "for as I
went a little further, I changed it away for a goose. >>
"Many, many thanks for that," said his wife. "What should
I have done with a sheep? For I have neither a spinning-wheel
nor have I much desire to toil and labor to make clothes; we
can purchase clothing as we have hitherto: now I shall have


## p. 909 (#331) ############################################

PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN
909
roast goose, which I have often longed for; and then I can
make a little pillow of the feathers. Go and bring in the goose,
children. "
«<
"But I have not got the goose," said Gudbrand; as I came
on a little further, I changed it away for a cock. "
"Heaven only knows how thou couldst think of all this,"
exclaimed his wife, "it is just as if I had managed it all myself.
A cock! that is just as good as if thou hadst bought an eight-
day clock; for as the cock crows every morning at four o'clock,
we can be stirring betimes. What should I have done with a
goose? I do not know how to dress a goose, and my pillow I
can stuff with moss. Go and fetch in the cock, children. "
"But I have not brought the cock home with me," said Gud-
brand; "for when I had gone a long, long way, I became so
hungry that I was obliged to sell the cock for twelve shillings
to keep me alive. "
"Well! thank God thou always dost just as I could wish to
have it done. What should we have done with a cock? We are
our own masters; we can lie as long as we like in the morning.
God be praised, I have got thee here safe again, and as thou
always dost everything so right, we want neither a cock, nor a
goose, nor a pig, nor a sheep, nor a cow. "
Hereupon Gudbrand opened the door:-"Have I won your
hundred dollars? " asked he of the neighbor, who was obliged to
confess that he had.
Translation by Benjamin Thorpe in Yule-Tide Stories' (Bohn's Library).
THE WIDOW'S SON
HERE
was once a very poor woman who had only one son.
She toiled for him till he was old enough to be confirmed
by the priest, when she told him that she could support him
no longer, but that he must go out in the world and gain his
own livelihood. So the youth set out, and after wandering about
for a day or two he met a stranger.
"Whither art thou going? "
asked the man. "I am going out in the world to see if I can
get employment," answered the youth. "Wilt thou serve us? "
—“Yes, just as well serve you as anybody else," answered the
youth. "Thou shalt be well cared for with me," said the man:
"thou shalt be my companion, and do little or nothing besides. "


## p. 910 (#332) ############################################

910
PETER CHRISTEN ASBJORNSEN
So the youth resided with him, had plenty to eat and drink,
and very little or nothing to do; but he never saw a living per-
son in the man's house.
One day his master said to him: "I am going to travel,
and shall be absent eight days. During that time thou wilt be
here alone: but thou must not go into either of these four
rooms; if thou dost, I will kill thee when I return. " The youth
answered that he would not. When the man had gone away
three or four days, the youth could no longer refrain, but went
into one of the rooms. He looked around, but saw nothing
except a shelf over the door, with a whip made of briar on it.
"This was well worth forbidding me so strictly from seeing,"
thought the youth. When the eight days had passed the man
came home again. "Thou hast not, I hope, been into any of my
rooms," said he. "No, I have not," answered the youth. "That
I shall soon be able to see," said the man, going into the room
the youth had entered. "But thou hast been in," said he, "and
now thou shalt die. " The youth cried and entreated to be for-
given, so that he escaped with his life but had a severe beating;
when that was over, they were as good friends as before.
Some time after this, the man took another journey. This
time he would be away a fortnight, but first forbade the youth
again from going into any of the rooms he had not already been
in; but the one he had previously entered he might enter again.
This time all took place just as before, the only difference being
that the youth abstained for eight days before he entered the for-
bidden rooms. In one apartment he found only a shelf over the
door, on which lay a huge stone and a water-bottle. "This is
also something to be in such fear about," thought the youth
again. When the man came home, he asked whether he had been
in any of the rooms. "No, he had not," was the answer. " I
shall soon see," said the man; and when he found that the youth
had nevertheless been in, he said, "Now I will no longer spare
thee, thou shalt die. " But the youth cried and implored that his
life might be spared, and thus again escaped with a beating; but
this time got as much as could be laid on him. When he had
recovered from the effect of this beating he lived as well as
ever, and he and the man were as good friends as before.
Some time after this, the man again made a journey, and
now he was to be three weeks absent. He warned the youth
anew not to enter the third room; if he did he must at once
-


## p. 911 (#333) ############################################

PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN
911
prepare to die. At the end of a fortnight, the youth had no
longer any command over himself, and stole in; but here he
saw nothing save a trap-door in the floor. He lifted it up and
looked through; there stood a large copper kettle, that boiled
and boiled, yet he could see no fire under it. "I should like to
know if it is hot," thought the youth, dipping his finger down
into it; but when he drew it up again he found that all his finger
was gilt. He scraped and washed it, but the gilding was not to
be removed; so he tied a rag over it, and when the man re-
turned and asked him what was the matter with his finger, he
answered he had cut it badly. But the man, tearing the rag off,
at once saw what ailed the finger. At first he was going to kill
the youth, but as he cried and begged again, he merely beat
him so that he was obliged to lie in bed for three days. The
man then took a pot down from the wall and rubbed him with
what it contained, so that the youth was as well as before.
After some time the man made another journey, and said he
should not return for a month. He then told the youth that if
he went into the fourth room, he must not think for a moment
that his life would be spared. One, two, even three weeks the
youth refrained from entering the forbidden room; but then,
having no longer any command over himself, he stole in. There
stood a large black horse in a stall, with a trough of burning.
embers at its head and a basket of hay at its tail. The youth.
thought this was cruel, and therefore changed their position,
putting the basket of hay by the horse's head. The horse there-
upon said:
―
"As you have so kind a disposition that you enable me to
get food, I will save you: should the Troll return and find you
here, he will kill you. Now you must go up into the chamber
above this, and take one of the suits of armor that hang there:
but on
no account take one that is bright; on the contrary,
select the most rusty you can see, and take that; choose also a
sword and saddle in like manner. "
The youth did so, but he found the whole very heavy for him
to carry.
When he came back, the horse said that now he
should strip and wash himself well in the kettle, which stood
boiling in the next apartment. "I feel afraid," thought the
youth, but nevertheless did so. When he had washed himself,
he became comely and plump, and as red and white as milk and
blood, and much stronger than before. "Are you sensible of


## p. 912 (#334) ############################################

912
PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN
"Yes," answered the youth.
Aye, that he could, and bran-
any change? " asked the horse.
"Try to lift me," said the horse.
dished the sword with ease. "Now lay the saddle on me,” said
the horse, "put on the armor and take the whip of thorn, the
stone and the water-flask, and the pot with ointment, and then
we will set out. "
When the youth had mounted the horse, it started off at a
rapid rate. After riding some time, the horse said, "I think I
hear a noise. Look round: can you see anything? " "A great
many men are coming after us,- certainly a score at least,"
answered the youth. "Ah! that is the Troll," said the horse,
"he is coming with all his companions. "
They traveled for a time, until their pursuers were gaining
on them. "Throw now the thorn whip over your shoulder," said
the horse, "but throw it far away from me. "
The youth did so, and at the same moment there sprang up
a large thick wood of briars. The youth now rode on a long
way, while the Troll was obliged to go home for something
wherewith to hew a road through the wood. After some time
the horse again said, "Look back: can you see anything now? ”
"Yes, a whole multitude of people," said the youth, "like a
church congregation. "-"That is the Troll; now he has got more
with him; throw out now the large stone, but throw it far from
me. "
When the youth had done what the horse desired, there arose
a large stone mountain behind them. So the Troll was obliged
to go home after something with which to bore through the
mountain; and while he was thus employed, the youth rode on
a considerable way. But now the horse again bade him look
back: he then saw a multitude like a whole army; they were so
bright that they glittered in the sun. "Well, that is the Troll
with all his friends," said the horse.
bottle behind you, but take good care to spill nothing on me! "
The youth did so, but notwithstanding his caution he happened
to spill a drop on the horse's loins. Immediately there rose a
vast lake, and the spilling of the few drops caused the horse to
stand far out in the water; nevertheless, he at last swam to the
shore.
«
"Now throw the water
When the Trolls came to the water they lay down to drink
it all up, and they gulped and gulped till they burst. "Now
we are quit of them," said the horse.


## p. 913 (#335) ############################################

PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN
913
When they had traveled on a very long way they came to a
green plain in a wood. "Take off your armor now," said the
horse, "and put on your rags only; lift my saddle off and hang
everything up in that large hollow linden; make yourself then a
wig of pine-moss, go to the royal palace which lies close by, and
there ask for employment. When you desire to see me, come
to this spot, shake the bridle, and I will instantly be with you. "
The youth did as the horse told him; and when he put on the
moss wig he became so pale and miserable to look at that no one
would have recognized him. On reaching the palace, he only
asked if he might serve in the kitchen to carry wood and water
to the cook; but the cook-maid asked him why he wore such an
ugly wig? "Take it off," said she: "I will not have anybody
here so frightful. " "That I cannot," answered the youth, “for I
am not very clean in the head. " "Dost thou think then that I
will have thee in the kitchen, if such be the case? " said she; "go
to the master of the horse: thou art fittest to carry muck from
the stables. " When the master of the horse told him to take off
his wig, he got the same answer, so he refused to have him.
"Thou canst go to the gardener," said he, "thou art only fit to
go and dig the ground. " The gardener allowed him to remain,
but none of the servants would sleep with him, so he was obliged
to sleep alone under the stairs of the summer-house, which stood
upon pillars and had a high staircase, under which he laid a
quantity of moss for a bed, and there lay as well as he could.
When he had been some time in the royal palace, it happened
one morning, just at sunrise, that the youth had taken off his
moss wig and was standing washing himself, and appeared so
handsome it was a pleasure to look on him. The princess saw
from her window this comely gardener, and thought she had never
before seen any one so handsome.
She then asked the gardener why he lay out there under the
stairs. "Because none of the other servants will lie with him,"
answered the gardener. "Let him come this evening and lie by
the door in my room," said the princess: "they cannot refuse
after that to let him sleep in the house. "
The gardener told this to the youth. "Dost thou think I will
do so? " said he. "If I do so, all will say there is something
between me and the princess. " "Thou hast reason, forsooth, to
fear such a suspicion," replied the gardener, "such a fine, comely
lad as thou art. " "Well, if she has commanded it, I suppose I
11-58


## p. 914 (#336) ############################################

914
PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN
must comply," said the youth. In going up-stairs that evening
he stamped and made such a noise that they were obliged to beg
of him to go more gently, lest it might come to the king's
knowledge. When within the chamber, he lay down and began
immediately to snore. The princess then said to her waiting-
maid, "Go gently and pull off his moss wig. " Creeping softly
toward him, she was about to snatch it, but he held it fast with
both hands, and said she should not have it. He then lay down
again and began to snore. The princess made a sign to the maid,
and this time she snatched his wig off. There he lay so beauti-
fully red and white, just as the princess had seen him in the
morning sun. After this the youth slept every night in the
princess's chamber.
But it was not long before the king heard that the garden lad
slept every night in the princess's chamber, at which he became.
so angry that he almost resolved on putting him to death. This,
however, he did not do, but cast him into prison, and his daugh-
ter he confined to her room, not allowing her to go out, either by
day or night. Her tears and prayers for herself and the youth
were unheeded by the king, who only became the more incensed
against her.
Some time after this, there arose a war and disturbance in the
country, and the king was obliged to take arms and defend him-
self against another king, who threatened to deprive him of his
throne. When the youth heard this he begged the jailer would
go to the king for him, and propose to let him have armor and
a sword, and allow him to follow to the war. All the courtiers
laughed when the jailer made known his errand to the king.
They begged he might have some old trumpery for armor, that
they might enjoy the sport of seeing the poor creature in the
war. He got the armor and also an old jade of a horse, which
limped on three legs, dragging the fourth after it.
Thus they all marched forth against the enemy, but they had
not gone far from the royal palace before the youth stuck fast
with his old jade in a swamp. Here he sat beating and calling
to the jade, "Hie! wilt thou go? hie! wilt thou go? " This
amused all the others, who laughed and jeered as they passed.
But no sooner were they all gone than, running to the linden, he
put on his own armor and shook the bridle, and immediately the
horse appeared, and said, "Do thou do thy best and I will do
mine. "


## p. 915 (#337) ############################################

PETER CHRISTEN ASBJÖRNSEN
915
When the youth arrived on the field the battle had already
begun, and the king was hard pressed; but just at that moment
the youth put the enemy to flight. The king and his attendants.
wondered who it could be that came to their help; but no one
had been near enough to speak to him, and when the battle was
over he was away. When they returned, the youth was still
sitting fast in the swamp, beating and calling to his three-legged
jade. They laughed as they passed, and said, "Only look, yonder
sits the fool yet. "
The next day when they marched out the youth was still sit-
ting there, and they again laughed and jeered at him; but no
sooner had they all passed by than he ran again to the linden,
and everything took place as on the previous day. Every one
wondered who the stranger warrior was who had fought for them;
but no one approached him so near that he could speak to him:
of course no one ever imagined that it was the youth.
When they returned in the evening and saw him and his old
jade still sticking fast in the swamp, they again made a jest of
him; one shot an arrow at him and wounded him in the leg, and
he began to cry and moan so that it was sad to hear, whereupon
the king threw him his handkerchief that he might bind it about
his leg. When they marched forth the third morning there sat
the youth calling to his horse, "Hie! wilt thou go? hie! wilt
thou go? " "No, no! he will stay there till he starves," said the
king's men as they passed by, and laughed so heartily at him that
they nearly fell from their horses. When they had all passed, he
again ran to the linden, and came to the battle just at the right
moment. That day he killed the enemy's king, and thus the war
was at an end.
When the fighting was over, the king observed his handker-
chief tied round the leg of the strange warrior, and by this he
easily knew him. They received him with great joy, and carried
him with them up to the royal palace, and the princess, who saw
them from her window, was so delighted no one could tell.
"There comes my beloved also," said she. He then took the pot
of ointment and rubbed his leg, and afterward all the wounded,
so that they were all well again in a moment.
After this the king gave him the princess to wife. On the day
of his marriage he went down into the stable to see the horse,
and found him dull, hanging his ears and refusing to eat. When
the young king-for he was now king, having obtained the half


## p. 916 (#338) ############################################

916
ROGER ASCHAM
1
215.
of the realm-spoke to him and asked him what he wanted, the
horse said, "I have now helped thee forward in the world, and I
will live no longer: thou must take thy sword, and cut my head
• off. " "No, that I will not do," said the young king: "thou shalt
have whatever thou wilt, and always live without working. "
thou wilt not do as I say," answered the horse, "I shall find a
way of killing thee. "
The king was then obliged to slay him; but when he raised
the sword to give the stroke he was so distressed that he turned
his face away; but no sooner had he struck his head off than
there stood before him a handsome prince in the place of the
horse.
"Whence in the name of Heaven didst thou come? " asked
the king. "It was I who was the horse," answered the prince.
"Formerly I was king of the country whose sovereign you slew
yesterday; it was he who cast over me a horse's semblance, and
sold me to the Troll. As he is killed, I shall recover my king-
dom, and you and I shall be neighboring kings; but we will
never go to war with each other. "
Neither did they; they were friends as long as they lived, and
the one came often to visit the other.
ROGER ASCHAM
(1515-1568)
HIS noted scholar owes his place in English literature to his
pure, vigorous English prose. John Tindal and Sir Thomas
More, his predecessors, had perhaps equaled him in the
flexible and simple use of his native tongue, but they had not sur-
passed him. The usage of the time was still to write works of
importance in Latin, and Ascham was master of a good Ciceronian
Latin style. It is to his credit that he urged on his countrymen the
writing of English, and set them an example of its vigorous use.
He was the son of John Ascham, house steward to Lord Scrope of
Bolton, and was born at Kirby Wiske, near Northallerton, in 1515.
At the age of fifteen he entered St. John's College, Cambridge, where
he applied himself to Greek and Latin, mathematics, music, and pen-
manship. He had great success in teaching and improving the study
of the classics; but seems to have had a somewhat checkered academic
career, both as student and teacher. His poverty was excessive, and


## p. 917 (#339) ############################################

ROGER ASCHAM
917
<
he made many unsuccessful attempts to secure patronage and posi-
tion; till at length, in 1545, he published his famous treatise on
Archery, Toxophilus,' which he presented to Henry VIII. in the
picture gallery at Greenwich, and which obtained for him a small
pension. The treatise is in the form of a dialogue, the first part
being an argument in favor of archery, and the second, instructions
for its practice. In its pages he makes a plea for the literary use of
the English tongue.
After long-continued disappointment and trouble, he was finally
successful in obtaining the position of tutor to the Princess Elizabeth,
in 1548.
She was fifteen years old, and he found her an apt scholar;
but the life was irksome, and in 1550 he resigned the post to return
to Cambridge as public orator, - whence
one may guess as a main reason for so
excellent a teacher having so hard a time
to live, that like many others he liked to
talk about his profession better than to
practice it. Going abroad shortly after-
ward as secretary to Sir Richard Morysin,
ambassador to Charles V. , he remained
with him until 1553, when he received the
appointment of Latin secretary to Queen
Mary. It is said that he wrote for her
forty-seven letters in his fine Latin style,
in three days.

Kimis
ROGER ASCHAM
At the accession of Elizabeth he received the office of the Queen's
private tutor. Poverty and "household griefs" still gave him anxiety:
but during the five years which elapsed between 1563 and his death
in 1568, he found some comfort in the composition of his 'School-
master,' which was published by his widow in 1570. It was suggested
by a conversation at Windsor with Sir William Cecil, on the proper
method of bringing up children. Sir Richard Sackville was so well
pleased with Ascham's theories that he, with others, entreated him
to write a practical work on the subject. The Schoolmaster' argues
in favor of gentleness rather than force on the part of an instructor.
Then he commends his own method of teaching Latin by double
translation, offers remarks on Latin prosody, and touches on other
pedagogic themes. Both this and the Toxophilus' show a pure,
straightforward, easy style. Contemporary testimony to its beauty
may be found in an appendix to Mayor's edition of The School-
master' (1863); though Dr. Johnson, in a memoir prefixed to Bennet's
collected edition of Ascham's English works (1771), says that "he was
scarcely known as an author in his own language till Mr. Upton pub-
lished his Schoolmaster' in 1711. " He has remained, however, the


## p. 918 (#340) ############################################

918
ROGER ASCHAM
best known type of a great teacher in the popular memory; in part,
perhaps, through his great pupil.
The best collected edition of his works, including his Latin letters,
was published by Dr. Giles in 1864-5. There is an authoritative
edition of the Schoolmaster' in the Arber Series of old English
reprints. The best account of his system of education is in R. H.
Quick's Essays on Educational Reformers' (1868).
ON GENTLENESS IN EDUCATION
From The Schoolmaster'
ET 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, you 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 favor him
again though he fault at his book, you 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 good-
ness, it is in innocency 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 like a new bright silver dish never
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 receive 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


## p. 919 (#341) ############################################

ROGER ASCHAM
919
works. "Every man seeth (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 salt-
ing. " And this similitude is not rude, nor borrowed of the larder-
house, but out of his school-house, 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 popin-
jays 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 their behalf.
Therefore, if to the goodness of nature be joined the wisdom.
of the teacher, in leading young wits into a 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
their 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 dis-
obedience; 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 des-
peration, and shameless contempt of all goodness; the furthest
point in all mischief, as Xenophon 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 Germany, I came to Broadgate in Leicester-
shire, to take my leave of that noble lady, Jane Grey, to whom
I was exceeding much beholding. Her parents, the duke and
duchess, with all the household, gentlemen and gentlewomen,
were hunting in the park. I found her in her chamber, reading
Phædo Platonis in Greek, and that with as much delight as some
gentlemen would read a merry tale in Boccace. After salutation
and duty done, with some other talk, I asked her why she would


## p. 920 (#342) ############################################

ROGER ASCHAM
1
920
leese [lose] such pastime in the park? Smiling she answered me:
"Iwisse, all their sport in the park is but a shadow to that pleas-
ure that I find in Plato. Alas! good folk, they never felt what
true pleasure meant. " "And how came you, madame," 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? " "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
presence 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 honor I bear them, so
without measure misordered, that I think myself in hell, till time
come that I must go to Mr. Elmer; who teacheth me so gently,
so pleasantly, with such fair allurements to learning, that I think
all the time nothing whiles I am with him. And when I am
called from him, 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.
ON STUDY AND EXERCISE
From Toxophilus'
P
HILOLOGE-But now to our shooting, Toxophile, again; wherein
I suppose you cannot say so much for shooting to be fit for
learning, as you have spoken against music for the same.
Therefore, as concerning music, I can be content to grant you
your mind; but as for shooting, surely I suppose that you cannot
persuade me, by no means, that a man can be earnest in it, and


## p. 921 (#343) ############################################

ROGER ASCHAM
921
earnest at his book too; but rather I think that a man with a
bow on his back, and shafts under his girdle, is more fit to wait
upon Robin Hood than upon Apollo or the Muses.
Toxophile-Over-earnest shooting surely I will not over-
earnestly defend; for I ever thought shooting should be a waiter
upon learning, not a mistress over learning. Yet this I marvel
not a little at, that ye think a man with a bow on his back is
more like Robin Hood's servant than Apollo's, seeing that Apollo
himself, in Alcestis of Euripides, which tragedy you read openly
not long ago, in a manner glorieth, saying this verse:
"It is my wont always my bow with me to bear. "
Therefore a learned man ought not too much to be ashamed to
bear that sometime, which Apollo, god of learning, himself was
not ashamed always to bear. And because ye would have a man
wait upon the Muses, and not at all meddle with shooting: I
marvel that you do not remember how that the nine Muses their
self, as soon as they were born, were put to nurse to a lady
called Euphemis, which had a son named Erotus, with whom the
nine Muses for his excellent shooting kept evermore company
withal, and used daily to shoot together in the Mount Parnassus;
and at last it chanced this Erotus to die, whose death the Muses
lamented greatly, and fell all upon their knees afore Jupiter their
father; and at their request, Erotus, for shooting with the Muses
on earth, was made a sign and called Sagittarius in heaven.
Therefore you see that if Apollo and the Muses either were ex-
amples indeed, or only feigned of wise men to be examples of
learning, honest shooting may well enough be companion with
honest study.
-
Philologe-Well, Toxophile, if you have no stronger defense
of shooting than poets, I fear if your companions which love
shooting heard you, they would think you made it but a trifling
and fabling matter, rather than any other man that loveth not
shooting could be persuaded by this reason to love it.
Toxophile- Even as I am not so fond but I know that these
be fables, so I am sure you be not so ignorant but you know
what such noble wits as the poets had, meant by such matters:
which oftentimes, under the covering of a fable, do hide and
wrap in goodly precepts of philosophy, with the true judgment
of things. Which to be true, specially in Homer and Euripides,
Plato, Aristotle, and Galen plainly do show; when through all


## p. 922 (#344) ############################################

922
ROGER ASCHAM
B
their works (in a manner) they determine all controversies by
these two poets and such like authorities. Therefore, if in this
matter I seem to fable and nothing prove, I am content you
judge so on me, seeing the same judgment shall condemn with
me Plato, Aristotle, and Galen, whom in that error I am well
content to follow. If these old examples prove nothing for
shooting, what say you to this, that the best learned and sagest
men in this realm which be now alive, both love shooting and
use shooting, as the best learned bishops that be? amongst whom,
Philologe, you yourself know four or five, which, as in all good
learning, virtue, and sageness, they give other men example
what thing they should do, even so by their shooting they plainly
show what honest pastime other men given to learning may
honestly use. That earnest study must be recreated with honest
pastime, sufficiently I have proved afore, both by reason and
authority of the best learned men that ever wrote. Then seeing
pastimes be leful [lawful], the most fittest for learning is to be
sought for. A pastime, saith Aristotle, must be like a medicine.
Medicines stand by contraries; therefore, the nature of studying
considered, the fittest pastime shall soon appear. In study every
part of the body is idle, which thing causeth gross and cold
humors to gather together and vex scholars very much; the mind
is altogether bent and set on work. A pastime then must be had
where every part of the body must be labored, to separate and
lessen such humors withal; the mind must be unbent, to gather
and fetch again his quickness withal. Thus pastimes for the
mind only be nothing fit for students, because the body, which
is most hurt by study, should take away no profit thereat. This
knew Erasmus very well, when he was here in Cambridge;
which, when he had been sore at his book (as Garret our book-
binder had very often told me), for lack of better exercise,
would take his horse and ride about the market-hill and come
again. If a scholar should use bowls or tennis, the labor is
too vehement and unequal, which is condemned of Galen; the
example very ill for other men, when by so many acts they be
made unlawful. Running, leaping, and quoiting be too vile for
scholars, and so not fit by Aristotle's judgment; walking alone
into the field hath no token of courage in it, a pastime like
a simple man which is neither flesh nor fish. Therefore if a
man would have a pastime wholesome and equal for every part
of the body, pleasant and full of courage for the mind, not vile.


## p. 923 (#345) ############################################

ATHENÆUS
923
and unhonest to give ill example to laymen, not kept in gardens
and corners, not lurking on the night and in holes, but ever-
more in the face of men, either to rebuke it when it doeth ill,
or else to testify on it when it doth well, let him seek chiefly of
all other for shooting.
ATHENÆUS
(Third Century A. D. )
ITTLE is known that is authentic about the Græco-Egyptian
Sophist or man of letters, Athenæus, author of the 'Deipno-
sophistæ or Feast of the Learned, except his literary
bequest. It is recorded that he was born at Naucratis, a city of the
Nile Delta; and that after living at Alexandria he migrated to Rome.
His date is presumptively fixed in the early part of the third century
by his inclusion of Ulpian, the eminent jurist (whose death occurred
A. D. 228) among the twenty-nine guests of the banquet whose wit
and learning furnished its viands. He was perhaps a contempo-
rary of the physician Galen, another of the putative banqueters, who
served as a mouthpiece of the author's erudition.
Probably nothing concerning him deserved preservation except
his unique work, the 'Feast of the Learned. ' Of the fifteen books
transmitted under the above title, the first two, and portions of the
third, eleventh, and fifteenth, exist only in epitome-the name of the
compiler and his time being equally obscure; yet it is curious that for
many centuries these garbled fragments were the only memorials of
the author extant. The other books, constituting the major portion
of the work, have been pronounced authentic by eminent scholars
with Bentley at their head. Without the slightest pretense of lit-
erary skill, the Feast of the Learned' is an immense storehouse of
Ana, or table-talk. Into its receptacles the author gathers fruitage
from nearly every branch of contemporary learning. He seemed to
anticipate Macaulay's "vice of omniscience," though he lacked Macau-
lay's incomparable literary virtues. Personal anecdote, criticism of
the fine arts, the drama, history, poetry, philosophy, politics, medicine,
and natural history enter into his pages, illustrated with an aptness
and variety of quotation which seem to have no limit. He preserves
old songs, folk-lore, and popular gossip, and relates whatever he
may have heard, without sifting it. He gives, for example, a vivid
account of the procession which greeted Demetrius Poliorketes:-


## p. 924 (#346) ############################################

ATHENÆUS
924
"When Demetrius returned from Leucadia and Corcyra to Athens, the
Athenians received him not only with incense and garlands and libations,
but they even sent out processional choruses, and greeted him with Ithyphallic
hymns and dances. Stationed by his chariot-wheels, they sang and danced
and chanted that he alone was a real god; the rest were sleeping or were on
a journey, or did not exist: they called him son of Poseidon and Aphrodite,
eminent for beauty, universal in his goodness to mankind; then they prayed
and besought and supplicated him like a god. ”
The hymn of worship which Athenæus evidently disapproved has
been preserved, and turned into English by the accomplished J.
A. Symonds on account of its rare and interesting versification. It
belongs to the class of Prosodia, or processional hymns, which the
greatest poets delighted to produce, and which were sung at religious
festivals by young men and maidens, marching to the shrines in time
with the music, their locks crowned with wreaths of olive, myrtle,
or oleander; their white robes shining in the sun.
"See how the mightiest gods, and best beloved,
Towards our town are winging!
For lo! Demeter and Demetrius
This glad day is bringing!
She to perform her Daughter's solemn rites;
Mystic pomps attend her;
He joyous as a god should be, and blithe,
Comes with laughing splendor.
Show forth your triumph! Friends all, troop around,
Let him shine above you!
Be you the stars to circle him with love;
He's the sun to love you.
Hail, offspring of Poseidon, powerful god,
Child of Aphrodite!
The other deities keep far from earth;
Have no ears, though mighty;
They are not, or they will not hear us wail:
Thee our eye beholdeth;
Not wood, not stone, but living, breathing, real,
Thee our prayer enfoldeth.
First give us peace! Give, dearest, for thou canst;
Thou art Lord and Master!
The Sphinx, who not on Thebes, but on all Greece
Swoops to gloat and pasture;
The Ætolian, he who sits upon his rock,
Like that old disaster;
He feeds upon our flesh and blood, and we
Can no longer labor;
For it was ever thus the Etolian thief
Preyed upon his neighbor;


## p. 925 (#347) ############################################

ATHENÆUS
925
Him punish Thou, or, if not Thou, then send
Edipus to harm him,
Who'll cast this Sphinx down from his cliff of pride,
Or to stone will charm him. "
The Swallow song, which is cited, is an example of the folklore
and old customs which Athenæus delighted to gather; and he tells
how in springtime the children used to go about from door to door,
begging doles and presents, and singing such half-sensible, half-
foolish rhymes as-
"She is here, she is here, the swallow!
Fair seasons bringing, fair years to follow!
Her belly is white,
Her back black as night!
From your rich house
Roll forth to us
Tarts, wine, and cheese;
Or, if not these,
Oatmeal and barley-cake
The swallow deigns to take.
What shall we have? or must we hence away!
Thanks, if you give: if not, we'll make you pay!
The house-door hence we'll carry;
Nor shall the lintel tarry;
From hearth and home your wife we'll rob;
She is so small,
To take her off will be an easy job!
Whate'er you give, give largess free!
Up! open, open, to the swallow's call!
No grave old men, but merry children we! »
The 'Feast of the Learned' professes to be the record of the
sayings at a banquet given at Rome by Laurentius to his learned
friends. Laurentius stands as the typical Mæcenas of the period. The
dialogue is reported after Plato's method, or as we see it in the more
familiar form of the Satires' of Horace, though lacking the pithy
vigor of these models. The discursiveness with which topics succeed
each other, their want of logic or continuity, and the pelting fire of
quotations in prose and verse, make a strange mixture. It may be
compared to one of those dishes known both to ancients and to
moderns, in which a great variety of scraps is enriched with condi-
ments to the obliteration of all individual flavor. The plan of execu-
tion is so cumbersome that its only defense is its imitation of the
inevitably disjointed talk when the guests of a dinner party are busy
with their wine and nuts. One is tempted to suspect Athenæus of a
sly sarcasm at his own expense, when he puts the following flings at
pedantry in the mouths of some of his puppets


## p. 926 (#348) ############################################

926
ATHENÆUS
"And now when Myrtilus had said all this in a connected statement, and
when all were marveling at his memory, Cynulcus said,-
"Your multifarious learning I do wonder at,
Though there is not a thing more vain and useless. '
"Says Hippo the Atheist, But the divine Heraclitus also says, 'A great
variety of information does not usually give wisdom. ' And Timon said, . .