Volume 2 — CHAPTER XXII. (continued 2)

Pursuing the subject of language, which, he says, "in our maker or poet must be heedily looked unto that it be natural, pure, and the most usual of all his country," after some other rules or cautions he adds: "Our maker therefore at these days shall not follow Piers Plowman, nor Gower, nor Lydgate, nor yet Chaucer, for their language is now out of use with us: neither shall he take the terms of Northern men, such as they use in daily talk, whether they be noblemen or gentlemen or of their best clerks, all is a matter; nor in effect any speech used beyond the river of Trent, though no man can deny but that theirs is the purer English Saxon at this day, yet it is not so courtly nor so current as our Southern English is; no more is the far Western man's speech: ye shall therefore take the usual speech of the court, and that of London and the shires lying about London within sixty miles and not much above. I say not this but in every shire of England there be gentlemen and others that speak, but specially write, as good Southern as we of Middlesex or Surry do; but not the common people of every shire, to whom the gentlemen and also their learned clerks do for the most part condescend; but herein we are ruled by the English dictionaries and other books written by learned men, and therefore it needeth none other direction in that behalf. Albeit peradventure some small admonition be not impertinent, for we find in our English writers many words and speeches amendable, and ye shall see in some many inkhorn terms so ill affected brought in by men of learning, as preachers and schoolmasters; and many strange terms of other languages by secretaries and merchants and travellers, and many dark words and not usual nor well sounding, though they be daily spoken in court. Wherefore great heed must be taken by our maker in this point that his choice be good." He modestly expresses his apprehensions that in some of these respects he may himself be accounted a transgressor, and he subjoins a list of the new, foreign or unusual words employed by him in this tract, with his reasons for their adoption. Of this number are; scientific, conduict, "a French word, but well allowed of us, and long since usual; it sounds something more than this word (leading) for it is applied only to the leading of a captain, and not as a little boy should lead a blind man;" idiom, from the Greek; significative, "borrowed of the Latin and French, but to us brought in first by some noblemen's secretary, as I think, yet doth so well serve the turn as it could not now be spared; and many more like usurped Latin and French words; as, method, methodical, placation, function, assubtiling, refining, compendious, prolix, figurative, inveigle, a term borrowed of our common lawyers: impression, also a new term, but well expressing the matter, and more than our English word:" penetrate, penetrable, indignity in the sense of unworthiness, and a few more[110]. The whole enumeration is curious, and strikingly exhibits the state of language at this epoch, when the rapid advancement of letters and of all the arts of social life was creating a daily want of new terms, which writers in all classes and individuals in every walk of life regarded themselves as authorized to supply at their own discretion, in any manner and from any sources most accessible to them, whether pure or corrupt, ancient or modern. The pedants of the universities, and the travelled coxcombs of the court, had each a neological jargon of their own, unintelligible to each other and to the people at large; on the other hand, there were a few persons of grave professions and austere characters, who, like Cato the Censor during a similar period of accelerated progress in the Roman state, prided themselves on preserving in all its unsophisticated simplicity, or primitive rudeness, the tongue of their forefathers. The judicious Puttenham, uniting the accuracy of scholastic learning with the enlargement of mind acquired by long intercourse among foreign nations, and with the polish of a courtier, places himself between the contending parties, and with a manly disdain of every species of affectation, but especially that of rusticity and barbarism, avails himself, without scruple as without excess, of the copiousness of other languages to supply the remaining deficiencies of his own.

Several chapters of the book "of Ornament" are devoted to the discussion of the decent, or seemly, in words and actions, and prove the author to have been a nice observer of manners as well as a refined critic of style. He severely censures a certain translator of Virgil, who said "that Æneas was fain to trudge out of Troy; which term better became to be spoken of a beggar, or of a rogue, or of a lackey:" and another who called the same hero "by fate a fugitive;" and who inquires "What moved Juno to tug so great a captain;" a word "the most indecent in this case that could have been devised, since it is derived from the cart, and signifies the draught or pull of the horses." The phrase "a prince's pelf" is reprobated, because pelf means properly "the scraps or shreds of taylors and of skinners." He gives strict rules for the decorous behaviour of ambassadors and all who address themselves to princes, being himself a courtier, and having probably exercised some diplomatic function. "I have seen," says he, "foreign ambassadors in the queen's presence laugh so dissolutely at some rare pastime or sport that hath been made there, that nothing in the world could have worse becomen them." With respect to men in other stations of life he is pleased to say, it is decent for a priest "to be sober and sad;" "a judge to be incorrupted, solitary, and unacquainted with courtiers or courtly entertainments... without plait or wrinkle, sour in look and churlish in speech; contrariwise a courtly gentleman to be lofty and curious in countenance, yet sometimes a creeper and a curry favell with his superiors." "And in a prince it is decent to go slowly and to march with leisure, and with a certain grandity rather than gravity; as our sovereign lady and mistress, the very image of majesty and magnificence, is accustomed to do generally, unless it be when she walketh apace for her pleasure, or to catch her a heat in the cold mornings. Nevertheless it is not so decent in a meaner person, as I have discerned in some counterfeit ladies of the country, which use it much to their own derision. This comeliness was wanting in queen Mary, otherwise a very good and honorable princess. And was some blemish to the emperor Ferdinando, a most noble-minded man, yet so careless and forgetful of himself in that behalf, as I have seen him run up a pair of stairs so swift and nimble a pace, as almost had not become a very mean man, who had not gone in some hasty business."

Respecting the poets mentioned by Puttenham whose names have not already occurred in the present work, it may be observed, that excepting a few lines quoted by this critic, there is nothing remaining of sir Edward Dyer's, except, which is highly probable, he is to be reckoned among the anonymous contributors to the popular collections of that day. Of Gascoigne, on the contrary, enough is left to exhaust the patience of any modern reader. In his youth, neglecting the study of the law for poetry and pleasure, he poured forth an abundance of amatory pieces; some of them sonnets closely imitating the Italian ones in style as well as structure. Afterwards, during a five-years service in the war of Flanders, he found leisure for much serious thought; and discarding the levities of his early years, he composed by way of expiation a moral satire in blank verse called the Steel Glass, and several religious pieces. Notwithstanding however this newly assumed seriousness, he attended her majesty in her progress in the summer of 1575, and composed a large number of courtly verses as a contribution to "the princely pleasures of Kennelworth." Gascoigne died in October 1577. Of his minor poems the following may be cited as a pleasing specimen.

THE LULLABY OF A LOVER. Sing lullaby as women do, Wherewith they bring their babes to rest, And lullaby can I sing too As womanly as can the best. With lullaby they still the child; And if I be not much beguil'd, Full many wanton babes have I, Which must be still'd with lullaby. First lullaby my youthful years. It is now time to go to bed, For crooked age and hoary years Have won the haven within my head: With lullaby then youth be still, With lullaby content thy will, Since courage quails and comes behind, Go sleep and so beguile thy mind. Next lullaby my gazing eyes, Which wonted were to glaunce apace; For every glass may now suffice To shew the furrows in my face. With lullaby then wink awhile, With lullaby your looks beguile: Let no fair face or beauty bright Entice you eft with vain delight. And lullaby my wanton will, Let reason's rule now reign thy thought, Since all too late I find by skill, How dear I have thy fancies bought: With lullaby now take thine ease, With lullaby thy doubts appease; For trust to this, if thou be still, My body shall obey thy will. Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes, My will, my ware, and all that was, I can no mo delays devise, But welcome pain, let pleasure pass: With lullaby now take your leave, With lullaby your dreams deceive, And when you rise with waking eye, Remember then this lullaby.

Respecting another poet of greater popularity than Gascoigne, and of a more original turn of genius, Warner, the author of Albion's England, Puttenham has preserved a discreet silence; for his great work had been prohibited by the capricious tyranny, or rigid decorum, of archbishop Whitgift, and seizure made in 1586 of the copies surreptitiously printed. This long and singular poem is a kind of metrical chronicle, containing the remarkable events of English history from the flood,—the starting point of all chroniclers,—to the reign of queen Elizabeth. It is written in the common ballad measure, and in a style often creeping and prosaic, sometimes quaint and affected; but passages of beautiful simplicity and strokes of genuine pathos frequently occur to redeem its faults, and the tediousness of the historical narration is relieved by a large intermixture of interesting and entertaining episodes. The ballads of Queen Eleanor and fair Rosamond, Argentile and Curan, and the Patient Countess, selected by Dr. Percy in his Relics of Ancient Poetry, may be regarded by the poetical student of the present day as a sufficient specimen of the talents of Warner: but in his own time he was complimented as the Homer or Virgil of the age; the persevering reader travelled, not only with patience but delight, through his seventy-seven long chapters; and it is said that the work became popular enough, notwithstanding its prohibition by authority, to supersede in some degree its celebrated predecessor the Mirror for Magistrates.