No More Learning

It should be noted that these Bibles varied in their treatment
of the Apocrypha: Coverdale's, Matthew's and the Genevan Bible,
following continental protestant usage, differentiated it from the
Old Testament, and, after 1629, when we have the first example,
editions of Bibles without the Apocrypha became common. Apart
from any critical or theological views supposed to be involved,
this omission was a serious literary loss, which is now being more
understood.
It may seem curious that, with this activity in producing
English versions, little was thought or said of the earliest English
versions. They seem to have had but little effect, although one
exception must be noted, in the Scots New Testament of Murdoch
Nisbet (c. 1520). This was based upon Purvey's version, although
the earlier Wyclifite version may, also, have been used: the
adaptation of Luther's preface to the New Testament (1522), and
the later addition of Tindale's prologue to Romans, indicate the
use of these editions after the work had been begun. Nisbet
belonged to Ayrshire, and had come under the influence of the
Lollards of that district. He had not only been a fugitive for his
religion, but, after his return home, had lived many years in hiding.
His translation had, doubtless, been made for a help in his own
ministry, but the importation into Scotland of Tindale's translation
1 The position of the Authorised Version in English literature is discussed in a later
chapter of the present work.
1


## p. 46 (#68) ##############################################

46
Reformation Literature in England
checked its use and so possibly prevented the publication of a
linguistically and historically interesting version.
One further result of the liturgical changes and the growing use
of the vulgar tongue calls for mention. The hymns in the daily
offices had always been popular, and the tendency to replace them
by English substitutes was natural and strong. The best example
of devotional poetry was to be found in the Psalms, and, when re-
ligious and poetic interests were warmly felt, a rendering of the
Psalms into English verse seemed a happy method of stirring up
religious zeal. Clément Marot had set French psalms to popular
tunes for the French court under Francis I; Calvin, whom many
generations of puritans followed, kept Marot's words, although he
rejected his tunes. An English courtier and poet attempted a
like task in England. Thomas Sternhold, a Hampshire gentleman
educated at Oxford, became groom of the robes to Henry VIII.
He was in trouble for his religious views (1543), but kept his favour
at court, and was there at a time when English was being largely
used in Edward VI's chapel royal. Thinking to turn the minds
of the nobles to higher things, he put some psalms into verse
and (1548), a year before his death, published nineteen of them
under the title of Certayne Psalms. A year later, John Hopkins,
a clergyman of Suffolk, published thirty-seven psalms by Stern-
hold, with seven of his own. In later editions, he increased the
number, and (1562) The Whole Booke of Psalmes by Sternhold,
Hopkins, Thos. Norton and others, appeared in verse, and was
added to the prayer-book. Not only was this done, but melodies,
some of which are still in popular use, were also printed. Suc-
cessive editions show traces of German influence, and a formidable
rival appeared in the Genevan Psalter, due to Whittingham,
Kethe and others. Its history is much like that of the older English
version, with which it has much in common: fifty-one psalms
were printed (1556) together with the form of prayer used by the
English exiles, and, in later editions, more were added. The
influence of Marot and Beza could be traced in it, and so re-
appears in its descendant, the Scots Psalter (1564). The growth
of Calvinism made these versions more popular than that of
Sternhold, but his compositions, which are marked by a concise
and natural simplicity, are easy to distinguish. Metrical psalmody
was in the air, and many writers, including archbishop Parker
(c. 1555), tried their hands at it. Its popularity grew, but the
growing separation between religion and all kinds of art, which
marked the seventeenth century, lowered the literary quality of


## p. 47 (#69) ##############################################

Summary
47
later editions. These earlier versions had been, however, deservedly
popular, and opened a new channel for religious fervour. Their
merits and their religious influence must not be judged by their
later successors. They belonged to a time when religious feeling
and literary taste were at a higher level, and they did something
to replace a favourite part of the older service-books.
A general survey of the field teaches us how varied the religious
impulses of the reformation were, and how vital they were for the
national welfare, both upon their positive and negative sides.
Party feeling and royal politics made the course of the move-
ment sometimes slower, sometimes tumultuous. One change may
be noted. In the lists of early printed books, a number of
medieval manuals of devotion and instruction precede the con-
troversial writings. At first, as in the Middle Ages, schools conceal
individuals, the same material is re-used and authorship is difficult
to settle. But, as in the cases of More and Tindale, the weight of
well known names begins to be felt, and the printing press, fixing
once for all the very words of a writer, put an end to processes which
had often hidden authorship. The needs of controversy hastened
the change, and individualism in literature began. An author was
now face to face with his public. It is trite to call the reformation
an age of transition, and its significance for creative thought is
sometimes over-estimated. But, at its outset, the problems of its
literature, its methods and its processes are medieval; at its end,
they are those which we know to-day. If, in Germany, the
revolution was heralded by medieval theses, in England, the
reformation controversies sprang out of a literature purely medie-
val. But, at the close of the period we have dealt with, the
translation of an English Bible, the formation of an English
prayer-book, stand out as great religious and literary results, and
each of them is due less to individual labourers than to the
continuous work of schools. There may have been many who
regretted much that had been lost; but to have preserved and
adapted so much was no mean gain. Many of the absorbing
controversies died away; but these results, which they had helped
to produce, remained.


## p. 48 (#70) ##############################################

CHAPTER III
THE DISSOLUTION OF THE RELIGIOUS HOUSES
THE general wave of new thought breaking upon England in
the first half of the sixteenth century swept away with it, among
other things, the almost countless religious houses with which
the country was covered. Their disappearance is more significant
considered as an effect than as a cause; yet it cannot be
doubted that, in its turn, it had an effect, both for good and for
evil, on the movement in which it was an incident. And first let
the losses to learning be estimated.
The destruction of books was almost incredibly enormous. Bale
describes the use of them by bookbinders and by grocers and
merchants for the packing of their goods. Maskell calculates the
loss of liturgical books alone to have approached the total of a
quarter of a million. An eye-witness describes the leaves of Duns
Scotus as blown about by the wind even in the courts of Oxford,
and their use for sporting and other purposes. Libraries that had
been collected through centuries, such as those of Christ Church and
St Albans, both classical and theological, vanished in a moment.
It was not only the studious orders that gathered books; the
friars, also, had libraries, though, as Leland relates of the Oxford
Franciscans, they did not always know how to look after them.
So late as 1535, a bequest was made by the bishop of St Asaph
of five marks to buy books for the Grey Friars of Oxford. Nor
can it be doubted that vast numbers of books less directly
theological must have perished.
A second destruction was that of the homes of study which the
religious houses, especially those of the Benedictines, provided for
all who leaned that way. The classical renascence had not yet
made sufficient way, except among the more advanced, to disturb
the old system by which it was natural for the studious to enter
the cloister and the rest to remain men of sport or war. The use
of the word 'clerk'as denoting a man of education, apart from the


## p. 49 (#71) ##############################################

Destruction of Opportunities for Study 49
question as to whether he were tonsured or not, indicates this
tendency. Even Erasmus, it must be remembered, was once an
Augustinian. Closely allied to the disappearance of this aid to
learning was that of the influence of tradition which, if it held
thinkers within narrow bounds, at the same time saved them the
waste of energy that is the inevitable accompaniment of all new
enterprise. There is abundant evidence to show that the religious
houses were so used; at Durham, Gloucester and Canterbury, for
example, there remain traces or records of the provision for
making books accessible and for accommodating their readers;
and the details of the life of Erasmus, as well as those of the
life of Thomas More, show that the most advanced scholars
of the age numbered among their equals and competent critics
the students of the cloister. Such a man was prior Charnock
of Oxford, Bere, abbot of Glastonbury, and Warham, archbishop
of Canterbury. Further, it must be remembered, not only were
monastic houses in themselves homes of study, but, from their
religious unity with the continent, they afforded means of com-
munication with scholars abroad. Not only were the great houses
the natural centres to which scholars came, but from them there
went out to the foreign universities of Bologna and Pisa such
religious as were in any sense specialists. This, of course, practi-
cally ceased, not only because of the religious change, but because
there were no longer rich corporations who could afford to send
their promising pupils abroad. The proverbial poverty of scholars
had, to a large extent, been mitigated by this provision. The
lives of such men as Richard Pace show that among the
religious were to be found generous patrons as well as professors
of learning.
Next must be reckoned the direct and indirect loss to the
education of children. To a vast number of religious houses, both
of monks and nuns, were attached schools in which the children
of both poor and rich received instruction. Richard Whiting, for
example, the last abbot of Glastonbury, numbered among his
'family' three hundred boys whom he educated, supporting, be-
sides, students at the university. Every great abbey, practically,
was the centre of education for all the country round; even the
Benedictine nuns kept schools attended by children of gentle birth,
and, except in those rare cases where scholarly parents themselves
supervised the education of their children, it may be said that, for
girls, these were the only available teachers of even the simplest
elements of learning. The grammar schools, which are popularly
4
E. L. III.
CU. III.


## p. 50 (#72) ##############################################

50 The Dissolution of the Religious Houses
supposed to have sprouted in such profusion under Edward VI,
may be held to have been, in nearly every case, remnants of the
old monastic foundations, and, even so, were not one tithe of those
which had previously existed. The rest fell with the monasteries,
and, even in places of considerable importance, as at Evesham,
practically no substitute was provided until nearly a century later.
Signs of this decay of learning may be found to some extent in the
records of the universities. The houses fell, for the most part,
about the year 1538, but they had been seriously threatened for
three or four years previously; and the effect may be seen in the
fact that, at Oxford, in 1535, one hundred and eight men graduated,
while, in 1536, only forty-four did so. Up to the end of Henry's
reign, the average was but fifty-seven, in Edward's, thirty-three,
while, during the revival of the old thought under Mary, it rose
again as high as seventy. The decrease of students at Cambridge
was not at first so formidable. This was natural, since that uni-
versity was far more in sympathy with the new ideas than was
her sister. But, ten years after the dissolution, a serious decrease
showed itself. Fuller reports 'a general decay of students, no
college having more scholars therein than hardly those of the
foundation, no volunteers at all and only persons pressed in a
manner by their places to reside. ' He traces this directly to the
fall of the religious houses. “Indeed, at the fall of the abbeys
fell the hearts of all scholars, fearing the ruin of learning. And
those their jealousies they humbly represented in a bemoaning
letter to king Henry VIII. ' The king, whose dislike of the old
canon law had abolished the degrees in that faculty, so that
Gratian fared no better. . . than his brother Peter Lombard,' took
steps to amend all this by the creation of Regius professors in
Divinity, Law, Hebrew and Greek; but it was not until Mary was
on the throne that the number of degrees taken yearly at Cam-
bridge rose, once more, to their former minimum of eighty. Other
details of the steps that Henry had taken to secure sound learning
at Cambridge, shortly before the fall of the houses, while the
university was yet very full of students,' will be found suggestive.
Thus, scholars are urged in his injunctions to the study of tongues,'
of Aristotle, Rodolphus Agricola, Melanchthon and Trapezuntius,
while Scotus, Burleus, Anthony Trombet, Bricot and Bruliferius
are forbidden.
Other causes, no doubt, contributed to the decrease of scholar-
ship; the unrest of the age was largely inimical to serious study;
but among these causes must be reckoned a further and more direct


## p. 51 (#73) ##############################################

New Methods of Thought 51
relation in which the monasteries stood towards the universities.
At both Oxford and Cambridge were large establishments to which
monks and friars came to finish their education; and, of these
scholars, the numbers were so large that, in the century previous
to the reformation, one in nine of all graduates seems to have
been a religious. At Oxford, the Benedictines alone had four
colleges, the Augustinians two and the Cistercians one. All this,
then, after the first rush of the disbanded religious to Oxford,
stopped with the dissolution, and the universities began to empty.
In two years of Edward's reign, no student at all graduated at
Oxford; in 1550, Latimer, a fierce advocate of the new movement,
laments the fact that there seem'ten thousand less students than
within the last twenty years,' and remarks that “it would pity a
man's heart to hear that I hear of the state of Cambridge’; in
Mary's reign, Roger Edgworth pleads for the poor students who
have grievously suffered from the recent changes; the study of
Greek, on Thomas Pope's evidence, had almost ceased to exist;
Anthony Wood mourns over the record of the decline of the arts
and the revival of ignorance; Edward VI rebukes the unscholarli-
ness of his own bishops.
The estimation of the gain to learning and letters which
followed the fall of the monasteries is more difficult to summarise,
since the beginning of a new growth cannot be expected to pro-
duce the fruit of a mature tree. The effects must be more subtle
and intangible, yet none the less real. And, even could it be
accurately gauged by statistics, it would be impossible to place
one against the other. We cannot set a pear and a peach in
the same category. 'It is generally believed,' remarks Warton,
'that the reformation of religion in England. . . was immediately
succeeded by a flourishing state of letters. But this was by no
means the case. '
First, however, it may be stated confidently, that the breaking
up of the old ground and the planting of it with new roots brings
with it at least as much gain as loss. The scholastic method had
done its work. From much concurrent testimony it is evident
that there was no more progress to be made, at any rate for the
present, along those lines. The deductive method was to yield
more and more to the inductive; the rubbish generated by every
system of thought carried to extremities must be swept away, and
new principles enunciated. Against this inevitable movement, the
religious houses, also inevitably, were the most formidable obstacle,
since they focussed and protected a method of thought of which
4-2


## p. 52 (#74) ##############################################

52 The Dissolution of the Religious Houses
the learned world was growing weary. The old principles certainly
had led up to fantastic conclusions and innumerable culs-de-sac in
philosophy and science-conclusions which eminent men of the
old party deplored as emphatically as their enemies. Sir Thomas
More, who died in defence of the old faith, Erasmus, who clung
as firmly as his friend to what he believed to be the divinely
revealed centre of truth, and many others, protested as loudly as
Latimer himself, and almost as contemptuously as Skelton, against
the follies to which real learning had descended. With the fall of
the monasteries, therefore, the strongholds of academic method
were, for the time, shattered.
In the place of tradition, then, rose up enterprise. The same
impulse of new life which drove Drake across the seas forty years
later and burned in full blaze in the society of the brilliant
Elizabethans, had begun to kindle, indeed, before the dissolution
of the houses, but could not rise into flame until it had consumed
them. In the world of letters it broke out in curious forms, show-
ing a strange intermingling of the old and the new, few of them
of intrinsic value and fewer yet, in any sense, final—always with the
exception of the great leaders of humanist thought.
And the rich development that took place was furthered by
the movement in which the fall of the religiou houses was a
notable incident. They were obstacles, and they were removed.
The monastic ideal was one of pruning the tree to the loss of
luxuriance; the new ideal was that of more generous cultivation
of the whole of human nature.
As regards education, although, as has been seen, the years
immediately following the crisis were years of famine-of destruc-
tion rather than reconstruction—they were, at the same time, the
almost necessary prelude to greater wideness of thought. It was
not until three centuries later that the state, as distinguished
from the church, took the responsibilities of education-for both
schools and universities continued to remain, until nearly the
present day, under clerical control—but, so soon as the confusion
had passed, education did, to some extent, begin to recover its
balance on a new basis. What had been, under the system of
great monastic centres, the province of the more studious, began,
more and more, to be diffused among the rest, or, at least, to be
put into more favourable conditions for that dissemination. The
fortunes of Greek scholarship show a curiously waving line. That
branch of study was introduced, together with Greek manuscripts,
by scholars such as prior William Tilly of Selling, who had become


## p. 53 (#75) ##############################################

>
6
New Channels of Intercourse 53
fascinated by Italian culture; but, with the general uprush of the
classical renascence, it fell once more under suspicion and the pulpit
began to be turned against it. With the fall of the monasteries,
however, curiously enough, it nearly disappeared altogether—for
example, at Oxford, though Wolsey himself had founded a chair
for its study—and it was not until things were quiet that it
again took its place among its fellows, and is to be found generally
recommended for grammar schools along with the arts of 'good
manners,' Latin, English, history, writing and even chess. Classics
indeed, generally, when the confusion was over, found a fairer
field than had been possible under clerical control. Pure Latin
was, to a large extent, vitiated by its ecclesiastical rival; and
Greek was associated vaguely in men’s minds with the principles
of Luther and the suspected new translations of the Scriptures,
in spite of Fisher’s zeal for its study at Cambridge, and the return
of Wakefield from Tübingen in the same cause. "Graeculus,' in
fact, had become a colloquial synonym for 'heretic'; and both
languages, as represented by such authors as Terence, Plautus
and the Greek poets, were under grave suspicions as being vehicles
for immoral sentiments. It is true that such men as prior Barnes
lectured on Latin authors in his Augustinian house at Cambridge,
yet it was not until a few years after the dissolution that even
the classical historians began to be translated into English. Friars
were reported actually to have destroyed books that in their
opinion were harmful or even useless.
Another gain that compensated for the loss of the old kind
of intercourse with Italy was, undoubtedly, to be found in the
new connections of England with northern Europe as well as with
the vigorous life of renascence Italy. The coming of such men
as Bucer and Fagius to Cambridge at the invitation of the king,
and a flood of others later, the intercourse with Geneva and Zurich,
culminating in Mary's reign-these channels could hardly have
been opened thus freely under the old conditions; and if this
exchange of ideas was primarily on theological subjects, yet it was
not to the exclusion of others. So long as the religious houses
preserved their prestige in the country at large and in the
universities in particular, every new idea or system that was
antagonistic to their ideals had a weight of popular distrust to
contend against: the average Englishman saw that ecclesiastics
held the field, he heard tales of vast monastic libraries and of
monkish prodigies of learning, he listened to pulpit thunderings
and scholastic disputations, while all that came from Germany


## p. 54 (#76) ##############################################

54 The Dissolution of the Religious Houses
and the Low Countries was represented by single men who held
no office and won but little hearing. When the houses were down
and their prestige shattered, it was but between man and man
that he had to decide.
And, further, in a yet more subtle way, the dissolution actually
contributed to the prestige of the new methods of thought under
whose predominance the fall had taken place and, under Elizabeth,
these new methods were enforced with at least as much state
pressure as the old system had enjoyed. There were, of course,
other causes for the destruction—the affairs of the king, both
domestic and political, religious differences, the bait of the houses’
wealth-all these things conspired to weigh the balances down and
to accomplish in England the iconoclasm which the renascence did
not accomplish in southern Europe. It can hardly be said that the
superior culture in England demanded a sacrifice which Italy did
not demand; but, rather, that it found here a peculiar collocation of
circumstances and produced, therefore, peculiar results. Yet in
men's minds the revival of learning and the fall of the monasteries
were inextricably associated; and the enthusiasm of Elizabeth's
reign, with its countless achievements in art and literature and
general effectiveness, was certainly enhanced by the memory of
that with which the movement of thirty years before had been
busily linked. Great things had been accomplished under a Tudor,
an insular independence unheard of in the history of the country
had been established; there were no limits then, it seemed, to
what might be effected in the future. The triumphant tone in
Elizabethan writers is, surely, partly traceable to this line of
thought—they are full of an enthusiasm of freedom-and, in
numberless passages, Shakespeare's plays served to keep the
thought alight.
It can scarcely be reckoned as a gain that the dispersal of the
libraries took place, except in one definite point, for it has been
seen in what manner the books were usually treated. This gain was
the founding of the school of English antiquaries under John Leland",
and the concentration in their hands of certain kinds of manu-
scripts that, practically, had no existence except in the recesses
of monastic libraries. In 1533, this priest was appointed king's
antiquary. It was his office 'to peruse the libraries of all cathedrals,
abbeys, colleges, etc. ,' no doubt with a view to the coming dissolu-
tion; but for six years he travelled, and claims to have conserved
many good authors, the which otherwise had been like to have
See post, chap. xv.
a


## p. 55 (#77) ##############################################

>
.
Antiquarian Study
55
perished, of the which part remain' in the royal libraries. That
there was a slight degree of truth in this implied reproach we
have already seen; and it is certain that access was now made
possible to many copies of English and classical authors, the loss
of which might have occurred under monastic complacency, and
certainly would have occurred under reforming zeal. 'In turning
over of the superstitious monasteries,' says Bale, Leland's friend and
editor, ‘little respect was had to their libraries. ' Others followed
Leland in his care for antiquities of literature and history. Matthew
Parker, says Josselin his secretary, 'was very careful to seek out
the monuments of former times. . . . Therefore in seeking up the
chronicles of the Britons and English Saxons, which lay hidden
everywhere, contemned and buried in forgetfulness,' as well as in
editing and publishing them, Parker and his assistants did a good
work which had scarcely been possible under the old system.
Josselin himself helped, and Sir Robert Cotton's collection of Saxon
charters and other manuscripts is one of the great founts of English
history.
It is impossible, then, with any degree of justice, to set the gains
and the losses, resultant from the dissolution, in parallel columns.
The former were subtle, far-reaching, immature; the latter were
concrete, verifiable and sentimental. Rather, until some definition
of progress be agreed upon by all men, we are only safe in saying
that, from the purely intellectual side, while the injury to the
education of those who lived at the time, and the loss of in-
numerable books, antiquities and traditions for all time, are
lamentable beyond controversy, yet, by the diffusion of general
knowledge, by the widening of the limits of learning and philosophy,
by the impetus given to independent research, art and literature,
and by the removal of unjustifiable prejudice, we are the inheritors
of a treasure that could hardly have been ours without the payment
of a heavy price.


## p. 56 (#78) ##############################################

CHAPTER IV
BARCLAY AND SKELTON
EARLY GERMAN INFLUENCES ON ENGLISH LITERATURE
ALEXANDER BARCLAY was born about 1475. A Scotsman by
descent, he probably came to England very early. He seems to
have studied in Oxford, and, perhaps, also in Cambridge. In his
Ship of Fools he states, with regret, that he has not always
been an industrious student; but the title 'syr,' in his translation
of Bellum Jugurthinum, implies that he took his degree, and in
his will he styles himself doctor of divinity. He is said to have
travelled in France and Italy ; but whether he visited any foreign
universities is rather doubtful. At all events, he strongly dis-
approves of this fashion of the time in The Ship of Fools. A
fairly good scholar, he knew French and Latin well and seems to
have been familiar, to a certain extent, even with German; but he
probably did not know Greek.
Barclay started his literary career with a translation of Pierre
Gringore's Le chasteau de labour, published by Antoine Verard
(c. 1503) and reprinted by Pynson (c. 1505) and Wynkyn de Worde
(1506 and c. 1510). Subsequently, in 1521, he wrote an Intro-
ductory to write and to pronounce Frenche, to which Palsgrave
refers in his Esclaircissement de la Langue Francoyse (1530)
in a by no means complimentary way. He even suggests
that it was not an original work but was founded on an older
treatise which Barclay may have found in the library of his
monastery.
Barclay's connection with humanism is proved by his Eclogues
(c. 1514) and a translation of Bellum Jugurthinum, published by
Pynson (c. 1520) and re-edited five years after Barclay's death. Like
the French primer, it was made at the suggestion of Thomas, duke
of Norfolk, Barclay's patron. In earlier days he owed much to
bishop Cornish, provost of Oriel College, Oxford, who made him


## p. 57 (#79) ##############################################

Alexander Barclay
57
a
chaplain of the college of Ottery St Mary, Devonshire. This
living he probably held for some years, and, during this time, he
completed his best known work, the translation of Brant's famous
satirical allegory. The Ship of Fools, published first by Pynson
in 1509, was dedicated, out of gratitude, to the said bishop. When
he translated The Myrrour of Good Maners, about 1523, from
the Latin of Dominicus Mancinus, Barclay was a monk at Ely.
There he had probably written also his Eclogues, the Intro-
ductory, the Sallust and the lost Life of St George. The
preface of The Myrrour not only shows that Barclay felt some-
what depressed at that time, but it also contains the interesting
statement, that, “the righte worshipfull Syr Giles Alington, Knight,
for whom the translation was made, had desired at first a modern-
ised version of Gower's Confessio Amantis, a task Barclay declined
as unsuitable to his age and profession.
He must have been fairly
well known at this time ; for, according to a letter of Sir Nicholas
Vaux to Wolsey, dated 10 April 1520, he is to be asked, 'to devise
histoires and convenient raisons to florisshe the buildings and
banquet house withal at the meeting of Henry VIII and Francis I,
known as the field of the Cloth of Gold. In this letter, Barclay is
spoken of as 'the black monk'; but, later, he left the Benedictines
for the stricter order of the Franciscans in Canterbury. There he
may have written the Life of St Thomas of Canterbury, at-
tributed to him by Bale. Besides the works mentioned already,
Barclay seems to have written other lives of saints, some sermons
and a few other books to which reference will be made.
What became of him after the dissolution of the monasteries,
in 1539, is not known. An ardent champion of the catholic faith,
who had written a book de fide orthodoxa, as well as another on
the oppression of the church by the French king, he probably
found it hard to adapt himself to the altered circumstances of the
times. But the years of adversity and hardship were followed at
last by a short time of prosperity. In 1546, he was instituted
to the vicarage of Great Baddow, in Essex, and, in the same year,
also to that of St Matthew at Wokey, in Somerset. Both prefer-
ments, apparently, he held till his death. On 30 April 1552, he
became rector of All Hallows, Lombard Street, in the city of
London. Soon afterwards, he died at Croydon, where he had
passed part of his youth, and there he was buried. His will was
proved on the 10th of June in the same year.
As we have said before, Barclay's most important work is his
translation of Sebastian Brant’s Narrenschiff. What especially


## p. 58 (#80) ##############################################

58
Alexander Barclay
attracted him in the famous work of the Basel professor (first
edition, Basel, 1494) was, undoubtedly, its moral tone. The idea
of the whole was by no means new. Certain groups of fools
had been ridiculed in German flying sheets and Fastnachtsspiele
over and over again, and even the idea of the ship was not at
all unfamiliar to Brant's readers. But, to combine the two, to
summon all the different kinds of fools, and to send them on
à voyage in a huge ship, or in many ships, was new and proved
a great success. Not that Brant took much pains to work out
the allegory adopted in the beginning; on the contrary, he
was extremely careless in that respect, changing and even
dropping it altogether in the course of the work. And, as to
the classification of his fools, he proceeded quite unmethodically.
They follow one another without any strict order, only occasion-
ally connected by a very slight association of ideas. But it was
just this somewhat loose arrangement that pleased Brant's readers;
and, as his notion of folly was a very wide one, and comprised all
sorts of personal and social vices and weaknesses, the book became
an all-round satirical picture of the manners of the age. For the
enjoyment of the scholar, Brant added to each chapter a great
number of instances, taken from the Bible and from classical and
medieval authors; for the more homely reader he put in many
proverbs. When he called the whole a compilation, he did so,
not out of sheer modesty, but because he knew well that this
was the very best recommendation with his public, which loved
authorities and desiderated them even for the most commonplace
statements. As regards the spirit of the whole, it must be sought
above all in the moral purpose of the work. Brant did not only
blame people, but he wanted to induce them to mend their ways
by demonstrating the absurdity or the evil consequences of their
follies. His wit was not very striking, his satire rather innocent
and tame, his morality somewhat shallow and his language not
very eloquent. But he was in deadly earnest about his task and
had a remarkable talent for observation. His pictures of con-
temporary life were always true, and often vivid and striking.
Besides, there were the splendid woodcuts, done in a Hogarthian
spirit, which helped to render the whole livelier and more dra-
matic, even where the words were a little dull. He thought, of
course, mainly of his fellow-countrymen ; but most of the follies
and vices which he blamed and satirised were spread all over
Europe, and the general feeling of discontent peculiar to that time
of transition was extremely well expressed in the book. In spite


## p. 59 (#81) ##############################################

Barclay's additions to Brant
59
of his learning, Brant was, decidedly, a son of the olden time.
He does not insist upon reforms, but he tries to patch up. With
all its reactionary spirit, Das Narrenschiff enjoyed a vast popu-
larity and ran through many editions. Geiler von Kaisersberg
made its matter the subject of 112 sermons, and it influenced the
writings of such men as Murner and Erasmus. Within three
years
after its first appearance, it was translated into Latin by Brant's
friend Locher, and then into almost every European language.
Barclay, probably, first became acquainted with it through the
Latin version, which was soon as popular in England as everywhere
else. His translation, published in 1509, was almost the last in verse
to appear, and was followed in the same year by a prose trans-
lation by Henry Watson from the French version of Jehan Droyn.
In the preface, Barclay states that he used Locher's translation as
well as the French and German versions. In the original edition,
Locher's text is printed in front of the English translation, and
Cawood's edition of 1570 even puts on the title “translated out
of Latin into Englishe. Careful comparison has shown that
Barclay follows chiefly the Latin version, but that he made use of
the French version by Pierre Rivière (Paris, 1497), which was
founded on Locher also, and that he used at the same time,
though in a much less degree, the German original. For one of
the last chapters of his book he seems to be indebted to Jodocus
Badius, whereas the ballad in honour of the Virgin Mary at the
end is probably his own?
According to his prologue, he desired 'to redres the errours
and vyces of this our royalme of Englande, as the foresayde
composer and translatours hath done in theyr contrees. ' There-
fore, he followed his author 'in sentence' rather than word,
and it is very interesting to see how he added here and abridged
there, to suit his English public and his personal taste. On the
whole, he was inclined to a certain diffuseness and wordiness. He
tells us that Pynson, his publisher, who, apparently, knew him
well, was afraid from the very beginning that the book might
become rather bulky, and entreated him not to pack too many
fools into his ship. As it is, Barclay's translation is two and a
half times as long as his Latin original, namely fourteen thousand
and thirty-four lines? This is partly due to the metre, the
-.
heroic seven-lined stanza, which forms a curious contrast to the
6
1 Cf. Fraustadt, über das Verhältnis von Barclay's 'Ship oj Fools' zur lat. , franz. u.
deutschen Quelle.
? Brænt has 7034, Locher 5672 lines.


## p. 60 (#82) ##############################################

60
Alexander Barclay
a
unpretending matter and is handled sometimes a little stifly. The
language is very plain and simple, as Barclay meant to write
not for learned men but for the common people. A few
Scots words betray the author's nationality. Whereas the learned
Locher had obliterated the popular spirit of Brant's work, Barclay
sought to intensify it by cutting out many classical references,
exchanging unknown instances for such as were more familiar,
introducing new comparisons and so on. He often makes remarks
on the woodcuts, and tries still further to give character to the
various kinds of fools. If Locher had endeavoured to work out the
allegory of the ship a little better than Brant, Barclay, following
English literary taste, went further in the same direction and tried to
make the whole more coherent. He was very fond of philosophical
and religious reflections and admonitions, which he added freely,
particularly in the envoys to each chapter. Locher had left out
many of Brant's proverbs ;-Barclay introduces a great many that
are new.
There are a few personal touches in The Ship of Fools.
Barclay, like Brant, twice describes himself as the steersman of
his ship, which is bound for some English harbour, though it
seems doubtful if she will ever arrive; once, he introduces himself
as a humble passenger. Whereas he assigns a place in the ship
to some people he apparently disliked, as stout Mansell of Ottery
or twelve ‘secondaries' of his college, he refuses to take in some
of his friends as being too good. Once, he expresses his con-
tempt of lighter poetry and speaks of his rival, John Skelton,
in terms unusually strong? Several times he alludes to the
sinfulness of London or to the vices of English society, or he
mentions English games and the bad influence of French fashions.
Sometimes, Barclay's additions are of a more general character,
as when he speaks of vices that are not confined to any age or
country in particular. The details which, in such instances, he
introduces exhibit him at his best; he is then rather more lively
than is usual with him, and often shows touches of real humour,
as, for instance, in his satirical remarks on women.
Great stress is laid on the presumption and wrong-doings of
officials, clerical and secular. On this head, Barclay, generally, has
much more to say than Brant; and that he always had in his mind
the conditions of his own country is proved, not only by his
referring to English institutions and offices, but, also, by his
express statement that some abuses are not so common in
1 Sharper still is the attack on Skelton in the fourth Eclogue ; cf. Dyce, p. xxxvi.


## p. 61 (#83) ##############################################

Barclay and Brant
61
England as on the continent? . He complains of the bribery in
vogue at Westminster Hall and he admonishes the 'yonge stu-
dentes of the Chancery' to rehabilitate justice. He always takes
the part of the poor people against their oppressors. Bad secular
officials are attacked as unsparingly as are haughty and greedy
ecclesiastics. He is exceedingly severe on bad members of his own
profession, blames artful friars and worldly priests and complains
repeatedly of the promotion of ignorant and lazy people to offices for
which they are not fit. He asserts quite frankly that unscrupulous
prelates and bad priests are the main cause of the general muddle,
and of the decay of the catholic faith, which he speaks of 'with
wete chekes by teres thycke as hayle' (11, 193). But, like Brant,
he does not advocate any thoroughgoing reforms and is extremely
hard on heretics as well as on Turks and heathen.
As Brant admired the emperor Maximilian, so Barclay
enthusiastically praises Henry VIII; and, when he expects him to
start a crusade against the infidels, with James IV of Scotland
as ally and commander-in-chief, this shows sufficiently that he is
as bad a politician as the German professor who actually expected
to see the imperial crown and the tiara united on the willing head
of his romantic hero.
Barclay again shows himself at one with Brant, when he echoes
his continual recommendation of the golden mean. He has not the
slightest sympathy for people who, like Alexander, attempt more
than they can accomplish, nor for those who neglect their own
affairs by pushing those of others. Knowledge and learning he
values only as instruments for the promotion of faith. As to
discoveries, he tries to be up to date, but calls them useless,
inasmuch as we shall never know the whole earth. So, in spite of
his learning, his point of view is entirely medieval.
The literary influence of The Ship of Fools in England is
noticeable, for instance, in Cocke Lorell's bote (c. 1510), with her
crew of London craftsmen? Perhaps, also, Skelton's lost Nacyoun
of Folys (G. of L. 1470) was suggested by The Ship of Fools,
the influence of which has also been traced in the same poet's
Bowge of Courte: The Boke of Three Fooles, ascribed to Skelton
till quite recently, has turned out to be a mere reprint of some
chapters of Watson's prose translation referred to above :
1 Cf. Jamieson, 1, p. 299.
? See post, chap. v.
3 Cf. Herford's Literary Relations of England and Germany in the 16th century,
pp. 352 ff. ; Rey, Skelton's satirical poems in their relation to Lydgate's ' Order of Fools,'
Cock Lorell's bote' and Barclay's 'Ship of Fools. '
* Brie, Engl. Stud. XXXII, p. 262; IXXVII, pp. 78 ff.
.
6


## p. 62 (#84) ##############################################

62
Alexander Barclay
In both the cases mentioned we have to think of the Latin
version rather than of Barclay's English translation. To the
latter, however, Skelton may have been indebted for some traits
in his Magnyfycence, written about 1516Copland's Hye Way
to the Spyttel Hous, published after 1531, was certainly
suggested by Barclay's chapter on beggars and vagabonds? . In
the later Elizabethan time The Ship of Fools was of some in-
fluence on the development of emblem books by its woodcuts, and,
even when its purely literary influence had faded, it was still
liked as a collection of satirical types. There are frequent allusions
to it in Elizabethan drama. Its greatest importance, perhaps,
lies in the fact that, by substituting distinct types for the shadowy
abstractions of fifteenth century allegory, it paved the way
for a new kind of literature, which soon sprang up, and, in the
Elizabethan time, found its highest expression in the drama of
character3.
Barclay's Eclogues, published about 1514, as we gather from
several historical allusions, had a rather strange fate. Written by
him in his youth, probably at different times, they were mislaid
and lost for many years, until one day the author, then thirty-eight
years of age, turning over some old books, lighted upon them
unexpectedly. He looked them over, added some new touches and
showed them to some friends, at whose request they were published.
As the first specimens of English pastoral poetry they would
possess some historical importance, even if there were nothing else
to recommend them. But they are interesting enough in themselves
to deserve our attention. The last of the five was, undoubtedly,
written first, then, probably, followed the fourth and, finally, the
three others, forming together a special group, were composed*.
The matter for the fifth and fourth was taken from Mantuan,
for the others from Aeneas Sylvius.
Johannes Baptista Spagnuoli, called Mantuanus, was, next to
Petrarch, the most famous Italian writer of new Latin eclogues.
In England, where, at that time, the Greek idyllic poet Theocritus
was still quite unknown, Mantuan was valued even more than
Vergil and was read in grammar schools to Shakespeare's time.
This explains why Barclay followed him rather than the Roman
1 Ramsay, Magnificence, pp. lxxii ff.
3 For other poems related to The Ship of Fools see Herford, The Literary Relations
of England and Germany in the 16th Century, chap. vi.
3 Cf. Ward, A. W. , Dictionary of National Biography on Barclay, and Herford,
p. 325. Also Ramsay's introduction to his edition of Skelton's Magnificence, p. cxciv.
* Reissert, Die Eclogen des Alexander Barclay.


## p. 63 (#85) ##############################################

Barclay's Eclogues
63
poet, whom, nevertheless, he knew quite well, as is proved by some
reminiscences from the Bucolics.
The argument of the fifth Eclogue, called The Cytezen and
Uplondyshman, is as follows. Amyntas, a shepherd, who, after a
life of doubtful reputation and success in London, has been com-
pelled to retire to the country, and Faustus, another shepherd,
his poor but always contented comrade, who comes to town only on
market days and prefers a simple village life, lie together in the
warm straw on a cold winter day. They begin to talk 'of the
dyversyte of rurall husbondes, and men of the cyte. ' Faustus
accuses and blames the townspeople, Amyntas the peasants.
Amyntas, who counts himself the better man, begins with a de-
scription of winter with its disadvantages and pleasures. For
poor people it is very bad, says Faustus, asserting that, whereas
peasants have to suffer in winter for their improvidence, towns-
people, luckier and wiser, live in abundance. Amyntas opposes
him. Townsfolk are even more foolish than shepherds, only they
are favoured by fortune. When Faustus suddenly turns ambitious
and wants to become a great man, Amyntas reproves bim and
tells a story showing how God himself ordained the difference of
ranks among men. One day, when Adam was afield and Eve sat at
home among her children, God demanded to see them. Ashamed
of there being so many, Eve hides some of them under hay and
straw, in the chimney and in other unsavoury places. The others
she shows to the Lord, who is very kind to them and presents
them with various gifts. The eldest he makes an emperor, the
second a king, the third a duke and so on. Full of joy, Eve now
fetches the rest. But they look so dirty and are otherwise so
disagreeable, that the Lord is disgusted and condemns them to
live in drudgery and endless servitude. Thus began the difference
of honour and bondage, of town and village.
Faustus, highly indignant, suspects that the story has been
invented by malicious townspeople out of scorn for poor shepherds,
and tells another story, showing that many well known people,
from Abel to Jesus Christ, have been shepherds and that the Lord
always held shepherds in particular favour. Then he denounces
the town as the home of all wickedness and cause of all evils.
Sometimes he is interrupted by Amyntas, who wonders whence he
got all his knowledge, and charges him with exaggeration. In
the end, Faustus congratulates himself on living in the country,
untouched by the vices of townspeople.
The story in the beginning is taken from Mantuan's sixth
i


## p. 64 (#86) ##############################################

64
Alexander Barclay
Eclogue, that of Faustus from the seventh. Barclay's translation
is fairly good. He follows his model pretty closely, but shifts the
names and sometimes makes the two speakers change their parts.
As in The Ship of Fools, he is fond of making additions and amplifi-
cations. The chief interest is, of course, again moral and satirical.
He tries to gain local colour by substituting English for classical
names and by introducing situations taken from English town and
country life. Thus, we have a lively description of football. He
gives an admirable picture, full of striking realistic touches, of
Eve amidst her children. In his characterisation of the two shep-
herds he is not always so successful.
In the fourth Eclogue, Codrus and Minalcas, treating of 'the
behavour of riche men agaynst poetes,' the substance is taken
from Mantuan's fifth Eclogue. This time, Barclay uses his source
with much more freedom. Codrus, a well-to-do but stupid and
stingy shepherd, perceiving Minalcas, a fellow of a poetic turn of
mind but depressed by poverty, asks him why he has given up
singing ‘swete balades. ' Minalcas answers that ‘Enemie to muses
is wretched poverty. ' This Codrus declines to admit, but wishes
to hear some old song; whereupon the other replies that a poet
cannot thrive on idle flattery, and that he cannot look after his
flock and write poetry at the same time. Everybody, retorts
Codrus, ought to be content with his lot; for, if one man has the
gift of riches, another has that of poetry; but he is by no
means disposed to exchange the comforts of wealth for delight in
song, and listens impatiently to the poet's complaints. By vague
promises, Minalcas, at last, is induced to give some stanzas 'of
fruitful clauses of noble Solomon. ' As these are not to Codrus's
liking, he recites a rather long 'wofull' elegy on the death of lord
Edward Howard, high admiral, son of the duke of Norfolk, Bar-
clay's patron, who lost his life in a daring attack on the French
fleet before Brest, 25 April 1513. It is written in the usual style
of this kind of poetry and contains a fairly good allegoric descrip-
tion of Labour, 'dreadfull of visage, a monster intreatable. ' When
Minalcas has finished, Codrus promises him some reward in the
future; whereupon the disappointed poet swears at him and
invokes on him the fate of Midas for bis niggardliness.
The most interesting feature of the poem is the introduc-
tion of the two songs-a trick, however, used already by Mantuan
in one of his eclogues. The style of the two songs is purely
English.
In Barclay's first three Eclogues, the form only is taken from


## p. 65 (#87) ##############################################

Barclay's Eclogues
65
Mantuan, the matter, as we have said above, from Aeneas Sylvius's
Tractatus de curialium miseriis, a treatise in which the ambitious
churchman expresses his disappointments. Nevertheless, here also
Barclay owes a good deal to Mantuan in characterisation as well
as in detail.
In the first, Coridon, a young shepherd, who wants to try his
luck at court, is warned against doing so by his companion
Cornix, who proves to him that all such courtiers do live in
misery, which serve in the court for honour, laude or fame, and
might or power. A threatening storm compels the pair to break
off their conversation.
In the second Eclogue it is taken up again. They speak of
the court, and 'what pleasure is there sene with the fyve wittes,
beginning at the eyne. ' In a long dialogue on the discomforts of
courtiers, it is shown that whosoever hopes for pleasure at court
is certain to be disappointed. Barclay follows his source very
closely here; and, if in the first Eclogue we do not quite see
what a simple shepherd wants to do at the court, in the second
we are as much surprised as is good Coridon himself to hear
Cornis quote classical authors.
The third Eclogue completes the conversation with an exceed-
ingly vivid description of the courtiers' undesirable and filthy
dwellings. Bribery, in the case of influential officials and impudent
servants, is mentioned, the evils of war and town life are dwelt
upon, nepotism is blamed, and it is shown that court life spoils
the character, and hinders a man from reading and studying.
Coridon is convinced, at last, that he is much more comfortable in
his present condition, and gives up his idea of going to court.
Whereas, in the translation of The Ship of Fools, Barclay often
carefully tones down the strong language of the original, he is not
80 particular in his Eclogues. On the whole, their tone is that of
renascence eclogues in general, i. e. satire on the times, under the
veil of allegory. So we find it with Petrarch and Mantuan, so with
Boccaccio and the other Italian writers of bucolic poetry, so in
Spain and, later, in France in the case of Clément Marot, who,
again, exercised a great influence on English pastoral poetry.
But, besides these modern influences, we find throughout that of
Vergil, who first introduced moral and satirical elements into
bucolic poetry.