No More Learning

”
"Now, all that about God, for instance,” Mr. Storks went on,
“is utterly uncalled for; and as young Saunders puts it, is utterly
misleading. "
« Yes,” said Dr. Jenkinson, "it all depends upon the way you
say it. "
»
"I hardly think,” said Mr. Stockton with a sublime weariness,
"that we need waste much thought upon his way.
It is a very
common one, — that of the puppy that barks at the heels of the
master whose meat it steals. ”
"May 1,” said Mr. Herbert gently, after a moment's pause,
(ask this
for I am
a little puzzled here: Do I understand
that Mr. Saunders's arguments may be held, on the face of the
thing, to disprove the existence of God ? »
Mr. Storks and Mr. Stockton both stared gravely on Mr.
Herbert, and said nothing. Dr. Jenkinson stared at him too;
but the Doctor's eye lit up into a little sharp twinkle of benign
content and amusement, and he said:
"No, Mr. Herbert, I don't think Mr. Saunders can disprove
that, nor any one else either. For the world has at present no
adequate definition of God; and I think we should be able to
define a thing before we can satisfactorily disprove it. I think
I have no doubt Mr. Saunders can disprove the existence of
God as he would define him. All atheists can do that. ”
"Ah," murmured Mr. Stockton, nobly said! ”
But that's not the way,” the Doctor went on, to set to
work,- this kind of rude denial. We must be loyal to nature.
We must do nothing per saltum. We must be patient. We
mustn't leap at Utopias, either religious or irreligious. Let us
be content with the knowledge that all dogmas will expand in
proportion as we feel they need expansion; for all mere forms
are transitory, and even the personality of -- »
1
SO.
>
>
>>
(


## p. 9644 (#52) ############################################

9644
WILLIAM HURRELL MALLOCK
Fatal word! It was like a match to a cannon.
"Ah, Jenkinson,” exclaimed Mr. Luke, and Dr. Jenkinson
stopped instantly, "we see what you mean; and capital sense it
is too. But you do yourself as much as any one else a great
injustice, in not seeing that the age is composed of two parts,
and that the cultured minority is infinitely in advance of the Phi-
listine majority — which alone is, properly speaking, the present;
the minority being really the soul of the future waiting for its
body, which at present can exist only as a Utopia. It is the
wants of this soul that we have been talking over this afternoon.
When the ladies come back to us, there are several things that
I should like to say; and then you will see what we mean, Jen-
kinson, and that even poor Rose has really some right on his
side. ”
At the mention of Mr. Rose's name the Doctor's face again
curdled into frost.
“I don't think so. ” That was all he said.


## p. 9645 (#53) ############################################

9645
SIR THOMAS MALORY
AND THE MORTE D'ARTHUR
>
(FIFTEENTH CENTURY)
BY ERNEST RHYS
HE
1
one certain thing about Sir Thomas Malory is, that he
wrote the first and finest romance of chivalry in our com-
mon tongue, - the Morte d'Arthur. ' Beyond this, and the
testimony that the book affords as to its author, we have little
record of him. That he was a Welshman, however, seems highly
probable; and his name is certainly of Welsh origin, derived as it is
from Maelor. That he was a clerk in holy orders is likely too. It
was usual to distinguish vicars at that period and later by the prefix
«Sir; and various clergymen of the same Christian name and sur-
name as his may be traced by old tombs, at Mobberley in Cheshire
and elsewhere. Bale, in his interesting Latin chronicle of 1548, on
(Illustrious Writers of Great Britain,' speaks of his “many cares of
State, it is true; but church and State were then closely enough al-
lied to make the two things compatible with our view of him. Bale's
further account is brief but eloquent. Our romancer was a man, he
tells us, of heroic spirit, who shone from his youth in signal gifts of
mind and body. ” Moreover, a true scholar, a true man of letters, who
never interrupted his quest “through all the remnants of the world's
scattered antiquity. ” So it was that Malory was led to gather, from
various sources, all the traditions he could find concerning the valor
and the victories of the most renowned King Arthur of the Britons. ”
Out of many materials, in French and Latin, in Welsh and Breton, he
shaped the book “Morte d'Arthur) as now know it; working
with a sense of style, and with a feeling for the tale-teller's and the
romancer's art, which show him to be much more than the mere
compiler and book-maker that some critics have been content to call
him.
A word now as to the dates of Malory's writing, and Caxton's
publishing, the Morte d'Arthur,' and we turn from the history of the
book to the book itself. In his last page,- after asking his readers
to pray for him, — Malory says in characteristic words, which again
may be thought to point to his being more than a mere layman:
« This book was finished the ninth year of the reign of King Edward
we


## p. 9646 (#54) ############################################

9646
SIR THOMAS MALORY
the Fourth,
as Jesu help me, for his great might; as he
[i. e. , Malory) is the servant of Jesu both day and night. ” The period
thus fixed brings us approximately to the year 1469, and to the ten
years previous as the probable time when the Morte d'Arthur) was
being written. Caxton published it in 1485, and then referred to
Malory as still living. Hence he and his noble romance both fall
well within that wonderful fifteenth century which saw the rise of
English poetry, with Chaucer as its morning star,-
« — the morning star of song, who made
His music heard below,- )
and the revival of Greek learning. It is significant enough, seeing
their close kinship, that romance with Malory, and poetry with Chau-
cer, should have come into English literature in the same period.
As for Malory and his romance, there is hardly a more difficult
and a more delightful undertaking in all the history of literature
than that of the quest of its first beginnings. Principal Rhys has
in his erudite studies in the Arthurian Legend carried us far back
into the early Celtic twilight, — the twilight of the morning of man
and his spiritual awakening,- and shown us some of the curious par-
allels between certain Aryan myths and the heroic folk-tales which
lent their color to the culture-hero, Arthur.
To examine these with the critical attention they require is be-
yond the scope of the present brief essay; but we may gather from
their threads a very interesting clue to the coming of King Arthur,"
in another sense than that of the episode so finely described by Ten-
nyson. We see the mythical hero carried in vague folk-tales of the
primitive Celts, in their journey westward across Europe, when the
traditions were attached to some other name. Then we find these
folk-tales given a local habitation and a name in early Britain; until
at last the appearance of a worthy historical hero, a King Arthur of
the sixth century, provided a pivot on which the wheel of tradition
could turn with new effect. The pivot itself might be small and in-
significant enough, but the rim of the wheel might have layer after
layer of legend, and accretion after accretion of mythical matter,
added to it, till at last the pivot might well threaten to give way
under the strain. Not to work the metaphor too hard, the wheel
may be said to go to pieces at last, when the turn of the romancers,
as distinct from the folk-tale tellers, comes. The Welsh romancers
had their turn first; then their originals were turned into Latin
by quasi-historians like Geoffrey of Monmouth; carried into France,
given all manner of new chivalric additions and adornments, out of
the growing European stock, by writers like Robert de Borron; and
finally, at the right moment, recaptured by our later Welsh romancer,


## p. 9647 (#55) ############################################

SIR THOMAS MALORY
9647
Malory, working in the interest of a new language and a new litera-
ture, destined to play so extraordinary a part in both the New World
and the Old.
The art of fiction and romance displayed by Malory in making
this transfer of his French materials, is best to be gauged by com-
paring his (Morte d'Arthur) with such romances as those in the
famous Merlin cycle of De Borron and his school. To all students of
the subject, this comparative investigation will be found full of the
most curiously interesting results. Besides Malory, we have English
fourteenth-century versions of these French romances; notably (The
Romance of Merlin,' of which we owe to the Early English Text
Society an excellent reprint. To give some idea of the effect of this
translation, let us cite a sentence or two from its account of Merlin's
imprisonment in the Forest of Broceliande; which may be compared
with the briefer account in the Morte d'Arthur. ' Sir Gawain hears
the voice of Merlin, speaking as it were from a smoke or mist in
the air,” and saying:-
«From hence may I not come out,- for in all the world is not so strong a
close as is this whereas I am: and it is neither of iron, nor steel, nor timber,
nor of stone; but it is of the air without any other thing, [bound] by enchant-
ment so strong that it may never be undone while the world endureth. »
This is not unlike Malory; but a little further study of the two
side by side will show the reader curious in such things how much
he has improved upon these earlier legendary romances, by his pro-
cess of selection and concentration, and by his choice of persons and
episodes. On the other hand, we must concede to his critics that
some of his most striking passages, full of gallant adventure gallantly
described, are borrowed very closely. But then the great poets and
romancers have so often been great borrowers. Shakespeare borrowed
boldly and well; so did Herrick; so did Pope; so did Burns. And
why not Malory?
It is sufficient if we remember that romance, like other branches
of literature, is not a sudden and original growth, but a graft from
an old famous stock. To set this graft skillfully in a new tree needed
no 'prentice hand; in doing it, Malory proved himself beyond question
a master of romance. His true praise is best to be summed up in
the long-continuing tribute paid to the Morte d'Arthur) by other
poets and writers, artists and musicians. Milton, let us remember,
hesitated whether he should not choose its subject for his magnum
opus, in the place of Paradise Lost' Tennyson elected to give it
an idyllic presentment in the purple pages of his "Idylls of the King. '
Still later poets — Matthew Arnold, William Morris, and Swinburne-
have gone to the same fountain-head; and in painting, the pictures


## p. 9648 (#56) ############################################

9648
SIR THOMAS MALORY
of Rossetti, Watts, and Sir Edward Burne-Jones bear a like tribute;
while in music, there is more than a reflection of the same influence
in the works of Wagner.
In all this, one may trace the vitality of the early Aryan folk-tale
out of which the Arthurian legend originally took its rise. Sun-
hero or
"culture-hero,” Celtic chieftain or British king, it is still the
radiant figure of King Arthur that emerges from the gray past, in
which myth is dimly merged into mediæval romance. In Malory's
pages, to repeat, the historical King Arthur goes for little; but «the
ideal Arthur lives and reigns securely in that kingdom of old romance
of which Camelot is the capital,” — his beautiful and fatal Guinevere
at his side, and Sir Galahad, Sir Launcelot, and his Knights of the
Round Table gathered about him. And if there be, as Tennyson
made clear in his Idylls,' a moral to this noble old romance, we
may best seek it in the spirit of these words in Caxton's prologue,
which make the best and simplest induction to the book:-.
«Herein may be seen noble chivalry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness,
hardiness, love, friendship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin. Do
after the good and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame and
And for to pass the time this book shall be pleasant to read in; but
for to give faith and belief that all is true that is contained herein, ye be at
your liberty. ”
renown.
Ernen R
thus
THE FINDING OF THE SWORD EXCALIBUR
From Morte d'Arthur)
A
(C
ND so Merlin and he departed, and as they rode King Arthur
said, “I have no sword. ” “No matter," said Merlin; "here-
by is a sword that shall be yours and I may. ” So they
rode till they came to a lake, which was a fair water and a
broad; and in the midst of the lake King Arthur was aware of
an arm clothed in white samite, that held a fair sword in the
hand. "Lo,” said Merlin unto the King, yonder is the sword
that I spake of. ”
With that they saw a damsel going upon the lake.
damsel is that ? " said the King. “That is the Lady of the Lake,"
<< What
»


## p. 9649 (#57) ############################################

SIR THOMAS MALORY
9649
« Sir
>
(
said Merlin; and within that lake is a reach, and therein is as
fair a place as any is on earth, and richly beseen; and this dam-
sel will come to you anon, and then speak fair to her that she
will give you that sword. ” Therewith came the damsel to King
Arthur and saluted him, and he her again. “Damsel," said the
King, “what sword is that which the arm holdeth yonder above
the water? I would it were mine, for I have no sword. ”
King,” said the damsel of the lake, that sword is mine, and if
ye will give me a gift when I ask it you, ye shall have it. ” “By
my faith,” said King Arthur, "I will give you any gift that you
will ask or desire. ” “Well,” said the damsel, "go ye into yon-
«
der barge, and row yourself unto the sword, and take it and the
scabbard with you; and I will ask my gift when I see my time. ”
So King Arthur and Merlin alighted, tied their horses to two
trees, and so they went into the barge. And when they came
to the sword that the hand held, King Arthur took it up by
the handles, and took it with him; and the arm and the hand
went under the water, and so came to the land and rode forth.
Then King Arthur saw a rich pavilion. « What signifieth
yonder pavilion ? » « That is the knight's pavilion that ye fought
with last — Sir Pellinore; but he is out; for he is not there:
he hath had to do with a knight of yours, that hight Eglame,
and they have foughten together a great while, but at the last
Eglame fied, and else he had been dead; and Sir Pellinore hath
chased him to Carlion, and we shall anon meet with him in the
highway. ” “It is well said,” quoth King Arthur; “now have I
a sword, and now will I wage battle with him and be avenged
on him. ” "Sir, ye shall not do so," said Merlin: for the knight
is weary of fighting and chasing; so that ye shall have no wor-
ship to have a do with him. Also he will not lightly be matched
of one knight living: and therefore my counsel is, that ye let
him pass; for he shall do you good service in short time, and his
sons after his days. Also ye shall see that day in short space,
that ye shall be right glad to give him your sister to wife. ”
“When I see him," said King Arthur, “I will do as ye advise
»
)
me. ”
Then King Arthur looked upon the sword and liked it passing
well. “Whether liketh you better,” said Merlin, “the sword or
the scabbard ? Me liketh better the sword,” said King Arthur.
»
”
"Ye are more unwise," said Merlin; «for the scabbard is worth
ten of the sword: for while ye have the scabbard upon you, ye
XVII-604


## p. 9650 (#58) ############################################

9650
SIR THOMAS MALORY
SO
-
shall lose no blood, be ye never sore wounded,- therefore
keep well the scabbard alway with you. ” So they rode on to
Carlion.
THE WHITE HART AT THE WEDDING OF KING ARTHUR AND
QUEEN GUENEVER
From Morte d'Arthur)
T
WHEN was the high feast made ready, and the King was wed-
ded at Camelot unto Dame Guenever, in the Church of St.
Stevens, with great solemnity; and as every man was set
after his degree, Merlin went unto all the Knights of the Round
Table, and bid them sit still, and that none should remove, for
ye shall see a marvelous adventure. ” Right so as they sat, there
came running in a white hart into the hall, and a white brachet
next him, and thirty couple of black running hounds came after
with a great cry, and the hart went about the Table Round. As
he went by the other tables, the white brachet caught him by
the flank, and pulled out a piece, wherethrough the hart leapt a
great leap, and overthrew a knight that sat at the table's side;
and therewith the knight arose and took up the brachet, and so
went forth out of the hall, and took his horse and rode his way
with the brachet.
Right soon anon came in a lady on a white palfrey, and cried
aloud to King Arthur, "Sir, suffer me not to have this despite,
,
for the brachet was mine that the knight led away. " "I may
not do therewith," said the King. With this there came a knight
riding all armed on a great horse, and took the lady with him
by force; and she cried and made great moan. When she was
gone the King was glad, because she made such a noise. "Nay,”
said Merlin, ye may not leave these adventures so lightly, for
these adventures must be brought again, or else it would be
disworship to you, and to your feast. ” “I will," said the King,
« that all be done by your advice. ” « Then,” said Merlin, let
"
call Sir Gawaine, for he must bring again the white hart; also,
sir, ye must let call Sir Tor, for he must bring again the brachet
and the knight, or else slay him; also, let call King Pellinore, for
he must bring again the lady and the knight, or else slay him:
and these three knights shall do marvelous adventures or they
come again. ”
»


## p. 9651 (#59) ############################################

SIR THOMAS MALORY
9651
THE MAID OF ASTOLAT
From Morte d'Arthur)
N°
row speak we of the fair maid of Astolat, which made such
sorrow day and night, that she never slept, eat, nor drank;
and always she made her complaint unto Sir Launcelot.
So when she had thus endured about ten days, that she felt
that she must needs pass out of this world. Then she shrove
her clean and received her Creator; and ever she complained still
upon Sir Launcelot. Then her ghostly father bade her leave such
thoughts. Then said she, “Why should I leave such thoughts ?
am I not an earthly woman ? and all the while the breath is in
my body I may complain. For
my
belief is that I do none
offense, though I love an earthly man; and I take God unto
record, I never loved any but Sir Launcelot du Lake, nor never
shall; and a maiden I am, for him and for all other. And sith
it is the sufferance of God that I shall die for the love of so
noble a knight, I beseech the high Father of heaven for to have
mercy upon my soul; and that mine innumerable pains which
I suffer may be allegiance of part of my sins. For our sweet
Savior Jesu Christ,” said the maiden, "I take thee to record, I
was never greater offender against thy laws, but that I loved this
noble knight, Sir Launcelot, out of all measure; and of myself,
good Lord! I might not withstand the fervent love, wherefore I
have my death. ” And then she called her father, Sir Bernard,
and her brother, Sir Tirre; and heartily she prayed her father
that her brother might write a letter like as she would indite it.
And so her father granted it her.
And when the letter was written, word by word, as she had
devised, then she prayed her father that she might be watched
until she were dead. "And while my body is whole let this
letter be put into my right hand, and my hand bound fast with
the letter until that I be cold; and let me be put in a fair bed,
with all the richest clothes that I have about me. And so let
my bed, with all my rich clothes, be laid with me in a chariot
to the next place whereas the Thames is; and there let me be
put in a barge, and but one man with me, such as ye trust, to
steer me thither, and that my barge be covered with black sam-
ite over and over. Thus, father, I beseech you let be done. ” So
her father granted her faithfully that all this thing should be
done like as she had devised. Then her father and her brother


## p. 9652 (#60) ############################################

9652
SIR THOMAS MALORY
>
»
((
made great dole; for when this was done, anon she died. And so
when she was dead, the corpse, and the bed, and all, were led
the next way unto the Thames; and there a man, and the corpse
and all, were put in a barge on the Thames; and so the man
steered the barge to Westminster, and there he rode a great
while to and fro or any man discovered it.
So, by fortune, King Arthur and Queen Guenever were speak-
ing together at a window; and so as they looked into the Thames,
they espied the black barge, and had marvel what it might mean.
Then the King called Sir Kaye and showed him it. "Sir,” said
Sir Kaye, “wit ye well that there is some new tidings. ” “Go
ye thither,” said the King unto Sir Kaye, "and take with you
Sir Brandiles and Sir Agravaine, and bring me ready word what
is there. ” Then these three knights departed and came to the
barge and went in; and there they found the fairest corpse, lying
in a rich bed, that ever they saw, and a poor man sitting in the
end of the barge, and no word would he speak. So these three
knights returned unto the King again, and told him what they
had found. “That fair corpse will I see,” said King Arthur.
And then the King took the Queen by the hand and went thither.
Then the King made the barge to be holden fast; and then the
King and the Queen went in with certain knights with them; and
there they saw a fair gentlewoman, lying in a rich bed, covered
unto her middle with many rich clothes, and all was cloth of
gold: and she lay as though she had smiled. Then the Queen
espied the letter in the right hand, and told the King thereof.
Then the King took it in his hand and said, “Now I am sure
this letter will tell what she was and why she is come hither. ”
Then the King and the Queen went out of the barge; and the
King commanded certain men to wait upon the barge. And so
when the King was come within his chamber, he called many
knights about him and said “that he would wit openly what was
written within that letter. ” Then the King broke it open and
made a clerk to read it. And this was the intent of the letter:-
"Most noble knight, my lord, Sir Launcelot du Lake, now
hath death made us two at debate for your love. I was your
love, that men called the Fair Maiden of Astolat; therefore unto
all ladies I make my moan. Yet for my soul that ye pray, and
bury me at the least, and offer me my mass penny. This is my
last request; and a clean maid I died, I take God to my witness.
Pray for my soul, Sir Launcelot, as thou art a knight peerless. ”


## p. 9653 (#61) ############################################

SIR THOMAS MALORY
9653
>>
(
This was all the substance of the letter. And when it was
read, the Queen and all the knights wept for pity of the doleful
complaints. Then was Sir Launcelot sent for; and when he
was come King Arthur made the letter to be read to him. And
when Sir Launcelot had heard it, word by word, he said, “My
lord, King Arthur, wit you well that I am right heavy of the
death of this fair damsel. God knoweth I was never causer of
her death by my will; and that I will report me unto her own
brother here,- he is Sir Lavaine. I will not say nay,” said Sir
Launcelot, “but that she was both fair and good; and much was
I beholden unto her: but she loved me out of measure. “Ye
might have showed her,” said the Queen, “some bounty and gen-
,
tleness, that ye might have preserved her life. ” “Madam,” said
Sir Launcelot, “she would none other way be answered, but that
she would be my wife, or else my love; and of these two I would
not grant her: but I proffered her for her good love, which she
showed me, a thousand pounds yearly to her and her heirs, and
to wed any manner of knight that she could find best to love in
her heart. For madam,” said Sir Launcelot, "I love not to be
constrained to love; for love must arise of the heart, and not by
constraint. ” “ That is truth,” said King Arthur and many knights:
"love is free in himself, and never will be bound; for where he
is bound he loseth himself. ”
>
THE DEATH OF SIR LAUNCELOT. *
From Morte d'Arthur. )
TE
WHEN Sir Launcelot, ever after, eat but little meat, nor drank,
but continually mourned until he was dead; and then he
sickened more and more, and dried and dwindled away.
For the bishop, nor none of his fellows, might not make him
to eat, and little he drank, that he was soon waxed shorter
by a cubit than he was, that the people could not know him.
For evermore day and night he prayed, but needfully, as nature
required; sometimes he slumbered a broken sleep, and always
he was lying groveling upon King Arthur's and Queen Guene-
ver's tomb: and there was no comfort that the bishop, nor Sir
* The second paragraph of this eloquent passage is not to be found in the
first edition of the Morte d'Arthur,' and is probably by some other writer
than Malory. This, however, does not affect its eloquence.


## p. 9654 (#62) ############################################

9654
SIR THOMAS MALORY
Bors, nor none of all his fellows could make him; it availed
nothing
O ye mighty and pompous lords, shining in the glory transi-
tory of this unstable life, as in reigning over great realms and
mighty great countries, fortified with strong castles and towers,
edified with many a rich city; yea also, ye fierce and mighty
knights, so valiant in adventurous deeds of arms, — behold! be-
hold! see how this mighty conqueror, King Arthur, whom in
his human life all the world doubted; see also, the noble Queen
Guenever, which sometime sat in her chair, adorned with gold,
pearls, and precious stones, now lie full low in obscure foss, or
pit, covered with clods of earth and clay.
Behold also this
mighty champion, Sir Launcelot, peerless of all knighthood; see
now how he lieth groveling upon the cold mold; now being
so feeble and faint, that sometime was so terrible. How, and in
what manner, ought ye to be so desirous of worldly honor, so
dangerous. Therefore, methinketh this present book is right
necessary often to be read; for in it shall ye find the most gra-
cious, knightly, and virtuous war of the most noble knights of
the world, whereby they gat a praising continually. Also me
seemeth, by the oft reading thereof, ye shall greatly desire to
accustom yourself in following of those gracious knightly deeds;
that is to say, to dread God and to love righteousness, — faith-
fully and courageously to serve your sovereign prince; and the
more that God hath given you triumphal honor, the meeker
ought ye to be, ever fearing the unstableness of this deceitful
world.


## p. 9655 (#63) ############################################

9655
SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
(FOURTEENTH CENTURY)
He most entertaining book in early English prose is the one
entitled "The Marvelous Adventures of Sir John Maundevile
(or Mandeville), Knight: being his Voyage and Travel which
treateth of the way to Jerusalem and of the Marvels of Ind with
other Islands and Countries. ' Who this knight was, and how many
of the wondrous countries and sights he described he actually saw,
are matters of grave discussion. Some scholars have denied his very
existence, affirming the book to be merely a compilation from other
books of travel, well known at the time, and made by a French physi-
cian, Jehan de Bourgogne, who hid his identity under the pseudonym
of the English knight of St. Albans. As a matter of fact, the asser-
tion of Sir John in a Latin copy notwithstanding, research has proved
beyond doubt that the book was first written in French, and then
translated into English, Latin, Italian, German, Flemish, and even
into Irish. It has been further shown that the author drew largely
on the works of his contemporaries. The chapters on Asiatic history
and geography are from a book dictated in French at Poitiers in
1307, by the Armenian monk Hayton; the description of the Tartars
is from the work of the Franciscan monk John de Plano Carpini;
the account of Prester John is taken from the Epistle ascribed to
him, and from stories current in the fourteenth century. There are,
furthermore, large borrowings from the book of the Lombard Fran-
ciscan friar Odoric of Pordenone, who traveled in the Orient between
1317 and 1330, and on his return had his adventures set down in Latin
by a brother of his order. The itinerary of the German knight Will-
iam of Boldensele, about 1336, is also laid under contribution. What
then can be credited to Sir John? While learned men are waxing hot
over conjectures the answers to which seem bey ond the search-light
of exact investigation, the unsophisticated reader holds fast by the
testimony of the knight himself as to his own identity, accepting it
along with the marvels narrated in the book:-
« 1 John Maundevile, Knight, all be it I be not worthy, that was born in
England, in the town of St. Albans, passed the sea in the year of our Lord
Jesu Christ, 1322, in the day of St. Michaelmas; and hitherto have been long
time over the Sea, and have seen and gone through many diverse Lands, and


## p. 9656 (#64) ############################################

9656
SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
many Provinces and Kingdoms and Isles, and have passed through Tartary,
Persia, Ermony (Armenia] the Little and the Great; through Lybia, Chaldea,
and a great part of Ethiopia; through Amazonia, Ind the Less and the More, a
great Part; and throughout many other Isles, that be about Ind: where dwell
many diverse Folks, and of diverse Manners and Laws, and of diverse Shapes
of Men. Of which Lands and Isles I shall speak more plainly hereafter.
«And I shall advise you of some Part of things that there be, when Time
shall be hereafter, as it may best come to my Mind; and especially for them
that will and are in Purpose to visit the Holy City of Jerusalem and the
Holy Places that are thereabout. And I shall tell the way that they shall
hold hither. For I have often times passed and ridden the Way, with good
company of many Lords. God be thanked. »
And again in the epilogue:-
«And ye shall understand, if it like you, that at mine Home-coming, I
came to Rome, and showed my Life to our Holy Father the Pope,
and amongst all I showed him this treatise, that I had made after information
of Men that knew of things that I had not seen myself, and also of Marvels
and Customs that I had seen myself, as far as God would give me grace;
and besought his Holy Father-hood, that my Book might be examined and
corrected by Advice of his wise and discreet Council. And our Holy Father,
of his special Grace, remitted my Book to be examined and proved by the
Advice of his said Council. By the which my Book was proved true.
And I John Maundevile, Knight, above said, although I be unworthy, that
departed from our Countries and passed the Sea the Year of Grace 1322, that
have passed many Lands and many Isles and Countries, and searched many
full strange Places, and have been in many a full good honorable Company,
and at many a fair Deed of Arms, albeit that I did none myself, for mine
incapable Insufficiency, now am come Home, maugre myself, to Rest. For
Gouts and Rheumatics, that distress me -- those define the End of my Labor
against my Will, God knoweth.
«And thus, taking solace in my wretched rest, recording the Time passed,
I have fulfilled these Things, and put them written in this Book, as it would
come into my Mind, the Year of Grace 1356, in the 34th year that I departed
from our countries. »
The book professes, then, to be primarily a guide for pilgrims to
Jerusalem by four routes, with a handbook of the holy places. But
Sir John's love of the picturesque and the marvelous, and his delight
in a good story, lead him to linger along the way: nay, to go out of
his way in order to pick up a legend or a tale wherewith to enliven
the dry facts of the route; as if his pilgrims, weary and footsore with
long day journeys, needed a bit of diversion to cheer them along the
way. When, after many a detour, he is finally brought into Pales-
tine, the pilgrim is made to feel that every inch is holy ground.
The guide scrupulously locates even the smallest details of Bible
history. He takes it all on faith. He knows nothing of nineteenth-


## p. 9657 (#65) ############################################

SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
9657
century “higher criticism," nor does he believe in spiritual interpre-
tation. He will point you out the
.
.
«rock where Jacob was sleeping when he saw the angels go up and down a
ladder.
And upon that rock sat our Lady, and learned her psalter.
Also at the right side of that Dead Sea dwelleth yet the Wife of Lot
in Likeness of a Salt Stone.
And in that Plain is the Tomb of Job.
And there is the Cistern where Joseph, which they sold, was cast in
of by his Brethren.
There nigh is Gabriel's Well where our Lord
was wont to bathe him, when He was young, and from that Well bare the
Water often-time to His Mother. And in that Well she washed often-time
the Clothes of her Son Jesu Christ.
On that Hill, and in that same
Place, at the Day of Doom, 4 Angels with 4 Trumpets shall blow and raise
all Men that have suffered Death. ”
»
He touches on whatever would appeal to the pious imagination
of the pilgrims, and helps them to visualize the truths of their reli-
gion. When he leaves Palestine,--a country he knew perhaps better
than ever man before or since his day,- and goes into the more
mythical regions of Ind the Little and More, Cathay and Persia, his
imagination fairly runs riot. With an Oriental love of the gorgeous
he describes the “Royalty of the Palace of the Great Chan,” or
of Prester John's abode,- splendors not to be outdone even by the
genie of Aladdin's wonderful lamp. He takes us into regions lustrous
with gold and silver, diamonds and other precious stones. We have
indeed in the latter half of the book whole chapters rivaling the
Arabian Nights in their weird luxurious imaginings, and again in
their grotesque creations of men and beasts and plant life. What
matter where Sir John got his material for his marvels,— his rich,
monster-teeming Eastern world, with its Amazons and pigmies; its
people with hound's heads, that “be great folk and well-fighting ”; its
wild geese with two heads, and lions all white and great as oxen;
men with eyes in their shoulders, and men without heads; «folk that
have the Face all flat, all plain, without Nose and without Mouth”;
« folk that have great Ears and long that hang down to their Knees”;
and «folk that run marvelously swift with one foot so large that it
serves them as umbrella against the sun when they lie down to rest”;
the Hippotaynes, half man and half horse; griffins that have the
Body upwards as an Eagle and beneath as a Lion, and truly they
say truth, that they be of that shape. ” We find hints of many old
acquaintances of the wonder-world of story-books, and fables from
classic soil. The giants with one eye in the middle of the forehead
are close brothers to the Cyclops Polyphemus, whom Ulysses outwit-
ted. The adamant rocks were surely washed by the same seas that
swirled around the magnetic mountain whereon Sindbad the Sailor
was wrecked. Sir John was in truth a masterful borrower, levying


## p. 9658 (#66) ############################################

9658
SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
tribute on all the superstitions, the legends, the stories, and the
fables current in his time; a time when the distinction between meum
and tuum, in literature as well as in other matters, was not as finely
drawn as it is now. Whatever a man could use, he plagiarized and
considered as his own. Where the robber-baron filched by means of
the sword, Sir John filched by means of the pen.
He took his mon-
sters out of Pliny, his miracles out of legends, his strange stories out
of romances. He meant to leave no rumor or invention unchronicled;
and he prefaces his most amazing assertions with «They say ” or
"Men say, but I have not seen it. ” He fed the gullibility of his age
to the top of its bent, and compiled a book so popular that more
copies from the fourteenth-century editions remain than of any other
book except the Bible.
»
THE MARVELOUS RICHES OF PRESTER JOHN
From (The Adventures)
N
I
The Land of Prester John be many divers Things and
many precious Stones, so great and so large, that Men make
of them Vessels, as Platters, Dishes, and Cups. And many
other Marvels be there, that it were too cumbrous and too long
to put in Writing of Books; but of the principal Isles and of his
Estate and of his Law, I shall tell you some Part.
And he hath under him 72 Provinces, and in every Province
is a King. And these Kings have Kings under them, and all
be Tributaries to Prester John. And he hath in his Lordships
many great Marvels.
For in his Country is the Sea that Men call the Gravelly
Sea, that is all Gravel and Sand, without any Drop of Water, and
it ebbeth and floweth in great Waves as other Seas do, and it is
never still nor at Peace in any manner of Season. And no Man
may pass that Sea by Ship, nor by any manner of Craft, and
therefore may no Man know what Land is beyond that Sea.
And albeit that it have no Water, yet Men find therein and on
the Banks full good Fishes of other manner of Nature and shape
than Men find in any other Sea, and they be of right good
Taste and delicious for Man's Meat.
And a 3 Days' Journey long from that Sea be great Mount-
ains, out of the which goeth out a great River that cometh out
of Paradise. And it is full of precious Stones, without any Drop
of Water, and it runneth through the Desert on the one side,


## p. 9659 (#67) ############################################

SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
9659
so that it maketh the Sea gravelly; and it runneth into that Sea,
and there it endeth. And that River runneth, also, 3 Days in
the Week and bringeth with him great Stones and the Rocks
also therewith, and that great Plenty. And anon, as they be
entered into the Gravelly Sea, they be seen no more, but lost
for evermore. And in those 3. Days that that River runneth, no
Man dare enter into it; but on other Days Men dare enter well
enough.
Also beyond that River, more upward to the Deserts, is a
great Plain all gravelly, between the Mountains. And in that
Plain, every Day at the Sun-rising, begin to grow small Trees,
and they grow till Midday, bearing Fruit; but no Man dare take
of that Fruit, for it is a Thing of Faerie. And after Midday
they decrease and enter again into the Earth, so that at the
going down of the Sun they appear no more. And so they do,
every Day. . And that is a great Marvel.
In that Desert be many Wild Men, that be hideous to look
on; for they be horned, and they speak naught, but they grunt,
as Pigs. And there is also great Plenty of wild Hounds. And
there be many Popinjays (or Parrots] that they call Psittakes in
their Language. And they speak of their own Nature, and say
Salve! ' [God save you! ) to Men that go through the Deserts,
and speak to them as freely as though it were a Man that spoke.
And they that speak well have a large Tongue, and have 5 Toes
upon a Foot.
And there be also some of another Manner, that
have but 3 Toes upon a Foot; and they speak not, or but little,
for they cannot but cry.
This Emperor Prester John when he goeth into Battle against
any other Lord, he hath no Banners borne before him; but he
hath 3 Crosses of Gold, fine, great, and high, full of precious
Stones, and every one of the Crosses be set in a Chariot, full
richly arrayed. And to keep every Cross, be ordained 10,000
Men of Arms and more than 100,000 Men on Foot, in manner as
when Men would keep a Standard in our Countries, when that
we be in a Land of War.
He dwelleth commonly in the City of Susa. And there is
his principal Palace, that is so rich and noble that no Man will
believe it by Estimation, but he had seen it. And above the
chief Tower of the Palace be 2 round Pommels or Balls of
Gold, and in each of them be 2 Carbuncles great and large, that
shine full bright upon the Night. And the principal gates of


## p. 9660 (#68) ############################################

9660
SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
his Palace be of precious Stone that Men call Sardonyx, and the
Border and the Bars be of Ivory. And the Windows of the Halls
and Chambers be of Crystal. And the Tables whereon Men eat,
some be of Emeralds, some of Amethyst, and some of Gold, full
of precious Stones; and the Pillars that bear up the Tables be
of the same precious Stones. And of the Steps to go up to
his Throne, where he sitteth at Neat, one is of Onyx, another is
of Crystal, and another of green Jasper, another of Amethyst,
another of Sardine, another of Cornelian, and the 7th, that he
setteth his Feet on, is of Chrysolite. And all these Steps be
bordered with fine Gold, with the other precious Stones, set with
great orient Pearls. And the Sides of the Seat of his Throne
be of Emeralds, and bordered with Gold full nobly, and dubbed
with other precious Stones and great Pearls. And all the Pillars
in his Chamber be of fine Gold with Precious Stones, and with
many Carbuncles, that give Light upon the Night to all People.
And albeit that the Carbuncles give Light right enough, never-
theless, at all Times burneth a Vessel of Crystal full of Balm, to
give good Smell and Odor to the Emperor, and to void away all
wicked Eyes and Corruptions. ”
FROM HEBRON TO BETHLEHEM
From the Adventures)
ND in Hebron be all the Sepultures of the Patriarchs, -
A , ; ,
Eve, Sarah and Rebecca and of Leah; the which Sepul-
tures the Saracens keep full carefully, and have the Place in
great Reverence for the holy Fathers, the Patriarchs that lie
there. And they suffer no Christian Man to enter into the
Place, but if it be of special Grace of the Sultan; for they hold
Christian Men and Jews as Dogs, and they say, that they should
not enter into so holy a Place. And Men call that Place, where
they lie, Double Splunk (Spelunca Duplex), or Double Cave, or
Double Ditch, forasmuch as one lieth above another. And the
Saracens call that Place in their Language, "Karicarba,” that
is to say “The Place of Patriarchs. ” And the Jews call that
Place "Arboth. ” And in that same Place was Abraham's House,
and there he sat and saw 3 Persons, and worshiped but one; as
Holy Writ saith, “Tres vidit et unum adoravit;” that is to say,
»
C
>>
(


## p. 9661 (#69) ############################################

SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
9661
»
.
"He saw 3 and worshiped one:” and those same were the Angels
that Abraham received into his House.
And right fast by that Place is a Cave in the Rock, where
Adam and Eve dwelled when they were put out of Paradise;
and there got they their Children. And in that same Place was
Adam formed and made, after that, that some Men say (for Men
were wont to call that Place the Field of Damascus, because that
it was in the Lordship of Damascus), and from thence was he
translated into the Paradise of Delights, as they say; and after
he was driven out of Paradise he was left there. And the same
Day that he was put in Paradise, the same Day he was put out,
for anon, he sinned. There beginneth the Vale of Hebron, that
endureth nigh to Jerusalem. There the Angel commanded Adam
that he should dwell with his Wife Eve, of the which he begat
Seth; of the which Tribe, that is to say Kindred, Jesu Christ
was born.
In that Valley is a Field, where Men draw out of the Earth
a Thing that Men call Cambile, and they eat it instead of Spice,
and they bear it away to sell. And Men may not make the
Hole or the Cave, where it is taken out of the Earth, so deep or
so wide, but that it is, at the Year's End, full again up to the
Sides, through the Grace of God.
From Hebron Men go to Bethlehem in half a Day, for it is
but 5 Mile; and it is a full fair Way, by Plains and Woods full
delectable. Bethlehem is a little City, long and narrow and well
walled, and on each side enclosed with good Ditches: and it was
wont to be clept Ephrata, as Holy Writ saith, “Ecce, audimus
eum in Ephrata,” that is to say, “Lo, we heard it in Ephrata. ”
And toward the East End of the City is a full fair Church and
a gracious, and it hath many Towers, Pinnacles and Corners, full
strong and curiously made; and within that Church be 44 Pillars
of Marble, great and fair.
Also besides the Choir of the Church, at the right Side, as
Men come downward 16 Steps, is the place where our Lord was
born, that is full well adorned with Marble, and full richly
painted with Gold, Silver, Azure and other Colours.
Paces beyond is the Crib of the Ox and the Ass. And beside
that is the Place where the Star fell, that led the 3 Kings, Jas-
per, Melchior and Balthazar (but Men of Greece call them thus,
“Galgalathe, Malgalathe, and Seraphie,” and the Jews call them
in this manner, in Hebrew, “Appelius, Amerrius, and Damasus”).
>
And 3


## p. 9662 (#70) ############################################

9662
SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
These 3 Kings offered to our Lord, Gold, Incense and Myrrh,
and they met together through Miracle of God; for they met
together in a City in Ind, that Men call Cassak, that is a 53
Days' Journey from Bethlehem; and they were at Bethlehem
the 13th Day; and that was the 4th Day after that they had
seen the Star, when they met in that City, and thus they were
in 9 days from that City at Bethlehem, and that was a great
Miracle.
Also, under the Cloister of the Church, by 18 Steps at the
right Side, is the Charnel-house of the Innocents, where their
Bodies lie. And before the place where our Lord was born is
the Tomb of St. Jerome, that was a Priest and a Cardinal, that
translated the Bible and the Psalter from Hebrew into Latin:
and without the Minster is the Chair that he sat in when he
translated it. And fast beside that Church, at 60 Fathom, is a
Church of St. Nicholas, where our Lady rested her after she was
delivered of our Lord; and forasmuch as she had too much Milk
in her Paps, that grieved her, she milked them on the red Stones
of Marble, so that the Traces may yet be seen, in the Stones, all
white.
And ye shall understand, that all that dwell in Bethlehem be
Christian Men.
And there be fair Vines about the City, and great plenty of
Wine, that the Christian Men have made. But the Saracens till
not the Vines, neither drink they any Wine: for their Books of
their Law, that Mohammet gave them, which they call their "Al
Koran” (and some call it "Mesaph," and in another language it
is clept “Harme,”) — the same Book forbiddeth them to drink
Wine. For in that Book, Mohammet cursed all those that drink
Wine and all them that sell it: for some Men say, that he slew
once an Hermit in his Drunkenness, that he loved full well; and
therefore he cursed Wine and them that drink it. But his Curse
be turned onto his own Head, as Holy Writ saith, "Et in verticem
ipsius iniquitas ejus descendet;" that is to say, “His Wickedness
;
shall turn and fall onto his own Head. ”
And also the Saracens breed no Pigs, nor eat they any
Swine's Flesh, for they say it is Brother to Man, and it was for-
bidden by the old Law; and they hold him accursed that eateth
thereof. Also in the Land of Palestine and in the Land of
Egypt, they eat but little or none of Flesh of Veal or of Beef,
but if the Beast be so old, that he may no more work for old


## p. 9663 (#71) ############################################

SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
9663
Age; for it is forbidden, because they have but few of them;
therefore they nourish them to till their Lands.
In this City of Bethlehem was David the King born; and he
had 60 Wives, and the first wife was called Michal; and also he
had 300 Lemans.
And from Bethlehem unto Jerusalem is but 2 Mile; and in
the Way to Jerusalem half a Mile from Bethlehem is a Church,
where the Angel said to the Shepherds of the Birth of Christ.
And in that Way is the Tomb of Rachel, that was the Mother
of Joseph the Patriarch; and she died anon after that she was
delivered of her Son Benjamin. And there she was buried by
Jacob her Husband; and he made set 12 great Stones on her, in
Token that she had born 12 Children. In the same Way, half a
Mile from Jerusalem, appeared the Star to the 3 Kings. In that
Way also be many Churches of Christian Men, by the which Men
go towards the City of Jerusalem.


## p. 9664 (#72) ############################################

9664
JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN
1803-1849
N THE summer of 1894 some workmen engaged in removing a
mass of rubbish, to make room for a new building in one of
the poorer quarters of Dublin, came upon the ruins of an
old cellar. A casual passer-by happened to notice the old wall, with
its low window looking out upon a level with the narrow and squalid
alley. Moved by some bookish recollection, he realized that he was
standing at the corner of Bride Street and Myler’s Alley, known in
the older days as Glendalough Lane; and that the miserable vestige
of human habitation into which the rough navvies were driving their
pickaxes had once been the poor shelter of him who,-
«Worn by weakness, disease, and wrong,
Had fled for shelter to God, who mated
His soul with song. ”
>
From this spot James Clarence Mangan, wasted with famine and
already delirious, was carried by the Overseers of the Poor to the
sheds of Meath Hospital in June 1849; too late, alas! to save the
dying man, who in the years of his young manhood had sung and
suffered for Ireland. A few friends gathered about him to comfort
his patient and gentle soul, and to lay his bones in the cool clay of
Glasnevin.
The life of Mangan is a convincing proof that differences of time
and place have no influence upon the poet's power. Poverty and
Want were the foster-brothers of this most wonderful of Ireland's
gifted children. His patient body was chained to daily labor for the
sordid needs of an unappreciating kindred, and none of the pleasant
joys of travel and of diversified nature were his. He was born in
Fishamble Street, Dublin, in 1803, and never passed beyond the con-
fines of his native city; but his spirit was not jailed by the misery
which oppressed his body His wondrous fancy swept with a con-
queror's march through all the fair broad universe.
Like Poe and Chatterton, Mangan impaired his powers by the use
of intoxicants. He was very sensitive about the squalor of his sur-
roundings, and was reticent and shy in the company of more fortu-
nate men and women: but with admirable unselfishness he devoted
his days, his toil, and the meagre rewards which came to him from
his work, to the care and sustenance of his mean-spirited kindred.


## p. 9665 (#73) ############################################

JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN
9665
For years he labored in the hopeless position of a scrivener's clerk,
from which he was rescued by the interest of Dr. Todd, and was
made an assistant librarian of Trinity College. There it was his
habit to spend hours of rapt and speechless labor amid the dusty
shelves, to earn his pittance. Dr. Petrie subsequently found him a
place in the office of the Irish Ordnance Survey; but Mangan was
his own enemy and foredoomed to defeat. He wielded a vigorous
pen in Ireland's cause, and under various names communicated his
own glowing spirit to his countrymen through the columns of several
periodicals. He published also two volumes of translations from the
German poets, which are full of his own lyric fire but have no claim
to fidelity. It was in his gloomy cellar-home that he poured out the
music of his heart. When he died, a volume of German poetry was
found in his pocket, and there were loose papers on which he had
feebly traced his last thoughts in verse. Mangan will forever remain
a cherished comrade of all gentle lovers of the Beautiful and True.
THE DAWNING OF THE DAY
"T"
WAS a balmy summer morning,
Warm and early,
Such as only June bestows;
Everywhere the earth adorning,
Dews lay pearly
In the lily-bell and rose.
Up from each green-leafy bosk and hollow
Rose the blackbird's pleasant lay;
And the soft cuckoo was sure to follow:
'Twas the dawning of the day!
Through the perfumed air the golden
Bees flew round me;
Bright fish dazzled from the sea,
Till medreamt some fairy olden-
World spell bound me
In a trance of witcherie.
Steeds pranced round anon with stateliest housings,
Bearing riders prankt in rich array,
Like flushed revelers after wine-carousings:
'Twas the dawning of the day!
Then a strain of song was chanted,
And the lightly
Floating sea-nymphs drew anear.
XVII-605


## p. 9666 (#74) ############################################

9666
JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN
Then again the shore seemed haunted
By hosts brightly
Clad, and wielding shield and spear!
Then came battle shouts — an onward rushing -
Swords, and chariots, and a phantom fray.
Then all vanished: the warm skies were blushing
In the dawning of the day!
Cities girt with glorious gardens,
Whose immortal
Habitants in robes of light
Stood, methought, as angel-wardens
Nigh each portal,
Now arose to daze my sight.
Eden spread around, revived and blooming;
When - lo! as I gazed, all passed away:
I saw but black rocks and billows looming
In the dim chill dawn of day!
THE NAMELESS ONE
R:
OLL forth, my song, like the rushing river
That sweeps along to the mighty sea;
God will inspire me while I deliver
My soul of thee!
Tell thou the world, when my bones lie whitening
Amid the last homes of youth and eld,
That there was once one whose veins ran lightning
No eye beheld.
Tell how his boyhood was one drear night hour;
How shone for him, through his griefs and gloom,
No star of all heaven sends to light our
Path to the tomb.
Roll on, my song, and to after ages
Tell how, disdaining all earth can give,
He would have taught men, from wisdom's pages,
The way to live.
And tell how, trampled, derided, hated,
And worn by weakness, disease, and wrong,
He fled for shelter to God, who mated
His soul with song -


## p. 9667 (#75) ############################################

JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN
9667
With song which alway, sublime or vapid,
Flowed like a rill in the morning beam,
Perchance not deep, but intense and rapid -
A mountain stream.
Tell how this Nameless, condemned for years long
To herd with demons from hell beneath,
Saw things that made him, with groans and tears, long
For even death.
Go on to tell how, with genius wasted,
Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love,
With spirit shipwrecked, and young hopes blasted,
He still, still strove.
Till, spent with toil, dreeing death for others,
And some whose hands should have wrought for him
(If children live not for sires and mothers),
His mind grew dim.
And he fell far through that pit abysmal,-
The gulf and grave of Maginn and Burns,-
And pawned his soul for the devil's dismal
Stock of returns.
But yet redeemed it in days of darkness,
And shapes and signs of the final wrath,
When death, in hideous and ghastly starkness,
Stood on his path.
And tell how now, amid wreck and sorrow,
And want, and sickness, and houseless nights,
He bides in calmness the silent morrow,
That no ray lights.
And lives he still, then ? Yes: old and hoary
At thirty-nine, from despair and woe,
He lives, enduring what future story
Will never know.
Him grant a grave too, ye pitying noble,
Deep in your bosoms! There let him dwell!
He too had tears for all souls in trouble
Here and in hell.