Chapter 2

"And once in Cambridge I heard a scoller say."

From which it seems equally, if not more, probable that he was a student at that university. "There is reason to believe that both the universities were frequented by Scotish students; many particular names are to be traced in their annals; nor is it altogether irrelevant to mention that Chaucer's young clerks of Cambridge who played such tricks to the miller of Trompington, are described as coming from the north, and as speaking the Scotish language:—

'John highte that on, and Alein highte that other,Of o toun were they born that highte Strother,Fer in the North, I cannot tellen where.'

'John highte that on, and Alein highte that other,

Of o toun were they born that highte Strother,

Fer in the North, I cannot tellen where.'

"It may be considered as highly probable that Barclay completed his studies in one of those universities, and that the connections which he thus had an opportunity of forming, induced him to fix his residence in the South; and when we suppose him to have enjoyed the benefit of an English education it need not appear peculiarly 'strange, that in those days, a Scot should obtain so great reputation in England.'" (Irving, Hist. of Scot. Poetry).

In the "Ship" there is a chapter "Of unprofytable Stody" in which he makes allusion to his student life in such a way as to imply that it had not been a model of regularity and propriety:

"The great foly, the pryde, and the enormyteOf our studentis, and theyr obstynate errourCauseth me to wryte two sentences or threMore than I fynde wrytyn in myne actoureThe tyme hath ben whan I was conductoureOf moche foly, whiche nowe my mynde doth greueWherfor of this shyp syns I am gouernoureI dare be bolde myne owne vyce to repreue."

"The great foly, the pryde, and the enormyte

Of our studentis, and theyr obstynate errour

Causeth me to wryte two sentences or thre

More than I fynde wrytyn in myne actoure

The tyme hath ben whan I was conductoure

Of moche foly, whiche nowe my mynde doth greue

Wherfor of this shyp syns I am gouernoure

I dare be bolde myne owne vyce to repreue."

If these lines are meant to be accepted literally, which such confessions seldom are, it may be that he was advised to put a year or two's foreign travel between his University career, and his entrance into the Church. At any rate, for whatever reason, on leaving the University, where, as is indicated by the title of "Syr" prefixed to his name in his translation of Sallust, he had obtained the degree of Bachelor of Arts, he travelled abroad, whether at his own charges, or in the company of a son of one of his patrons is not recorded, principally in Germany, Italy, and France, where he applied himself, with an unusual assiduity and success, to the acquirement of the languages spoken in those countries and to the study of their best authors. In the chapter "Of unprofytable Stody," above mentioned, which contains proof how well he at least had profited by study, he cites certain continental seats of university learning at each of which, there is indeed no improbability in supposing he may have remained for some time, as was the custom in those days:

"One rennyth to Almayne another vnto FranceTo Parys, Padway, Lumbardy or SpayneAnother to Bonony, Rome, or OrleanseTo Cayne, to Tolows, Athenys, or Colayne."

"One rennyth to Almayne another vnto France

To Parys, Padway, Lumbardy or Spayne

Another to Bonony, Rome, or Orleanse

To Cayne, to Tolows, Athenys, or Colayne."

Another reference to his travels and mode of travelling is found in the Eclogues. Whether he made himself acquainted with the English towns he enumerates before or after his continental travels it is impossible to determine:

CORNIX."As if diuers wayes laye vnto Islington,To Stow on the Wold, Quaueneth or Trompington,To Douer, Durham, to Barwike or Exeter,To Grantham, Totnes, Bristow or good Manchester,To Roan, Paris, to Lions or Floraunce.CORIDON.(What ho man abide, what already in Fraunce,Lo, a fayre iourney and shortly ended to,With all these townes what thing haue we to do?CORNIX.By Gad man knowe thou that I haue had to doIn all these townes and yet in many mo,To see the worlde in youth me thought was best,And after in age to geue my selfe to rest.CORIDON.Thou might haue brought one and set by our village.CORNIX.What man I might not for lacke of cariage.To cary mine owne selfe was all that euer I might,And sometime for ease my sachell made I light."ECLOGUE I.

CORNIX.

"As if diuers wayes laye vnto Islington,To Stow on the Wold, Quaueneth or Trompington,To Douer, Durham, to Barwike or Exeter,To Grantham, Totnes, Bristow or good Manchester,To Roan, Paris, to Lions or Floraunce.

"As if diuers wayes laye vnto Islington,

To Stow on the Wold, Quaueneth or Trompington,

To Douer, Durham, to Barwike or Exeter,

To Grantham, Totnes, Bristow or good Manchester,

To Roan, Paris, to Lions or Floraunce.

CORIDON.

(What ho man abide, what already in Fraunce,Lo, a fayre iourney and shortly ended to,With all these townes what thing haue we to do?

(What ho man abide, what already in Fraunce,

Lo, a fayre iourney and shortly ended to,

With all these townes what thing haue we to do?

CORNIX.

By Gad man knowe thou that I haue had to doIn all these townes and yet in many mo,To see the worlde in youth me thought was best,And after in age to geue my selfe to rest.

By Gad man knowe thou that I haue had to do

In all these townes and yet in many mo,

To see the worlde in youth me thought was best,

And after in age to geue my selfe to rest.

CORIDON.

Thou might haue brought one and set by our village.

CORNIX.

What man I might not for lacke of cariage.To cary mine owne selfe was all that euer I might,And sometime for ease my sachell made I light."ECLOGUE I.

What man I might not for lacke of cariage.

To cary mine owne selfe was all that euer I might,

And sometime for ease my sachell made I light."

ECLOGUE I.

Returning to England, after some years of residence abroad, with his mind broadened and strengthened by foreign travel, and by the study of the best authors, modern as well as ancient, Barclay entered the church, the only career then open to a man of his training. With intellect, accomplishments, and energy possessed by few, his progress to distinction and power ought to have been easy and rapid, but it turned out quite otherwise. The road to eminence lay by the "backstairs," the atmosphere of which he could not endure. The ways of courtiers—falsehood, flattery, and fawning—he detested, and worse, he said so, wherefore his learning, wit and eloquence found but small reward. To his freedom of speech, his unsparing exposure and denunciation of corruption and vice in the Court and the Church, as well as among the people generally, must undoubtedly be attributed the failure to obtain that high promotion his talents deserved, and would otherwise have met with. The policy, not always a successful one in the end, of ignoring an inconvenient display of talent, appears to have been fully carried out in the instance of Barclay.

His first preferment appears to have been in the shape of a chaplainship in the sanctuary for piety and learning founded at Saint Mary Otery in the County of Devon, by Grandison, Bishop of Exeter; and to have come from Thomas Cornish, Suffragan Bishop of Bath and Wells under the title of the Bishop of Tyne, "meorum primitias laborum qui in lucem eruperunt," to whom, doubtless out of gratitude for his first appointment, he dedicated "The Ship of Fools." Cornish, amongst the many other good things he enjoyed, held, according to Dugdale, from 1490 to 1511, the post of warden of the College of S. Mary Otery, where Barclay no doubt had formed that regard and respect for him which is so strongly expressed in the dedication.

A very eulogistic notice of "My Mayster Kyrkham," in the chapter "Of the extorcion of Knyghtis," (Ship of Fools,) has misled biographers, who were ignorant of Cornish's connection with S. Mary Otery, to imagine that Barclay's use of "Capellanus humilimus" in his dedication was merely a polite expression, and that Kyrkham, of whom he styles himself, "His true seruytour his chaplayne and bedeman" was his actual ecclesiastical superior. The following is the whole passage:—

"Good offycers ar good and commendableAnd manly knyghtes that lyue in rightwysenesBut they that do nat ar worthy of a bableSyns by theyr pryde pore people they oppresMy mayster Kyrkhan for his perfyte mekenesAnd supportacion of men in pouertyeOut of my shyp shall worthely be freI flater nat I am his true seruytourHis chaplayne and his bede man whyle my lyfe shall endureRequyrynge God to exalt hym to honourAnd of his Prynces fauour to be sureFor as I haue sayd I knowe no creatureMore manly rightwyse wyse discrete and sadBut thoughe he be good, yet other ar als bad."

"Good offycers ar good and commendable

And manly knyghtes that lyue in rightwysenes

But they that do nat ar worthy of a bable

Syns by theyr pryde pore people they oppres

My mayster Kyrkhan for his perfyte mekenes

And supportacion of men in pouertye

Out of my shyp shall worthely be fre

I flater nat I am his true seruytourHis chaplayne and his bede man whyle my lyfe shall endureRequyrynge God to exalt hym to honourAnd of his Prynces fauour to be sureFor as I haue sayd I knowe no creatureMore manly rightwyse wyse discrete and sadBut thoughe he be good, yet other ar als bad."

I flater nat I am his true seruytour

His chaplayne and his bede man whyle my lyfe shall endure

Requyrynge God to exalt hym to honour

And of his Prynces fauour to be sure

For as I haue sayd I knowe no creature

More manly rightwyse wyse discrete and sad

But thoughe he be good, yet other ar als bad."

That this Kyrkham was a knight and not an ecclesiastic is so plainly apparent as to need no argument. An investigation into Devonshire history affords the interesting information that among the ancient families of that county there was one of this name, of great antiquity and repute, now no longer existent, of which the most eminent member was a certain Sir John Kirkham, whose popularity is evinced by his having been twice created High Sheriff of the County, in the years 1507 and 1523. (Prince, Worthies of Devon; Izacke, Antiquities of Exeter.)

That this was the Kirkham above alluded to, there can be no reasonable doubt, and in view of the expression "My mayster Kyrkham," it may be surmised that Barclay had the honour of being appointed by this worthy gentleman to the office of Sheriff's or private Chaplain or to some similar position of confidence, by which he gained the poet's respect and gratitude. The whole allusion, however, might, without straining be regarded as a merely complimentary one. The tone of the passage affords at any rate a very pleasing glimpse of the mutual regard entertained by the poet and his Devonshire neighbours.

After the eulogy of Kyrkham ending with "Yet other ar als bad," the poet goes on immediately to give the picture of a character of the opposite description, making the only severe personal reference in his whole writings, for with all his unsparing exposure of wrong-doing, he carefully, wisely, honourably avoided personality. A certain Mansell of Otery is gibbeted as a terror to evil doers in a way which would form a sufficient ground for an action for libel in these degenerate days.—Ship, II. 82.

"Mansell of Otery for powlynge of the poreWere nat his great wombe, here sholde haue an oreBut for his body is so great and corporateAnd so many burdens his brode backe doth chargeIf his great burthen cause hym to come to lateYet shall the knaue be Captayne of a bargeWhere as ar bawdes and so sayle out at largeAbout our shyp to spye about for prayesFor therupon hath he lyued all his dayes."

"Mansell of Otery for powlynge of the poreWere nat his great wombe, here sholde haue an ore

"Mansell of Otery for powlynge of the pore

Were nat his great wombe, here sholde haue an ore

But for his body is so great and corporateAnd so many burdens his brode backe doth chargeIf his great burthen cause hym to come to lateYet shall the knaue be Captayne of a bargeWhere as ar bawdes and so sayle out at largeAbout our shyp to spye about for prayesFor therupon hath he lyued all his dayes."

But for his body is so great and corporate

And so many burdens his brode backe doth charge

If his great burthen cause hym to come to late

Yet shall the knaue be Captayne of a barge

Where as ar bawdes and so sayle out at large

About our shyp to spye about for prayes

For therupon hath he lyued all his dayes."

It ought however to be mentioned that no such name as Mansell appears in the Devonshire histories, and it may therefore be fictitious.

The ignorance and reckless living of the clergy, one of the chief objects of his animadversion, receive also local illustration:

"For if one can flater, and beare a Hauke on his fist,He shalbemadeparson of Honington or Clist."

"For if one can flater, and beare a Hauke on his fist,

He shalbemadeparson of Honington or Clist."

A good humoured reference to the Secondaries of the College is the only other streak of local colouring we have detected in the Ship, except the passage in praise of his friend and colleague Bishop, quoted at p. liii.

"Softe, fooles, softe, a little slacke your pace,Till I haue space you to order by degree,I haue eyght neyghbours, that first shall haue a placeWithin this my ship, for they most worthy be,They may their learning receyue costles and free,Their walles abutting and ioyning to the scholes;Nothing they can, yet nought will they learne nor see,Therfore shall they guide this our ship of fooles."

"Softe, fooles, softe, a little slacke your pace,

Till I haue space you to order by degree,

I haue eyght neyghbours, that first shall haue a place

Within this my ship, for they most worthy be,

They may their learning receyue costles and free,

Their walles abutting and ioyning to the scholes;

Nothing they can, yet nought will they learne nor see,

Therfore shall they guide this our ship of fooles."

In the comfort, quiet, and seclusion of the pleasant Devonshire retreat, the "Ship" was translated in the year 1508, when he would be about thirty-two, "by Alexander Barclay Preste; and at that tyme chaplen in the sayde College," whence it may be inferred that he left Devon, either in that year or the year following, when the "Ship" was published, probably proceeding to London for the purpose of seeing it through the press. Whether he returned to Devonshire we do not know; probably not, for his patron and friend Cornish resigned the wardenship of St Mary Otery in 1511, and in two years after died, so that Barclay's ties and hopes in the West were at an end. At any rate we next hear of him in monastic orders, a monk of the order of S. Benedict, in the famous monastery of Ely, where, as is evident from internal proof, the Eclogues were written and where likewise, as appears from the title, was translated "The mirrour of good maners," at the desire of Syr Giles Alington, Knight.

It is about this period of his life, probably the period of the full bloom of his popularity, that the quiet life of the poet and priest was interrupted by the recognition of his eminence in the highest quarters, and by a request for his aid in maintaining the honour of the country on an occasion to which the eyes of all Europe were then directed. In a letter of Sir Nicholas Vaux, busied with the preparations for the meeting of Henry VIII., and Francis I., called the Field of the Cloth of Gold, to Wolsey, of date 10th April 1520, he begs the cardinal to "send to them ... Maistre Barkleye, the Black Monke and Poete, to devise histoires and convenient raisons to florisshe the buildings and banquet house withal" (Rolls Calendars of Letters and Papers, Henry VIII.,iii.pt. 1.). No doubt it was also thought that this would be an excellent opportunity for the eulogist of the Defender of the Faith to again take up the lyre to sing the glories of his royal master, but no effort of his muse on the subject of this great chivalric pageant has descended to us if any were ever penned.

Probably after this employment he did not return to Ely; with his position or surroundings there he does not seem to have been altogether satisfied ("there many a thing is wrong," see p. lxix.); and afterwards, though in the matter of date we are somewhat puzzled by the allusion of Bulleyn, an Ely man, to his Franciscan habit, he assumed the habit of the Franciscans at Canterbury, ('Bale MS. Sloan, f. 68,') to which change we may owe, if it be really Barclay's, "The life of St Thomas of Canterbury."

Autumn had now come to the poet, but fruit had failed him. The advance of age and his failure to obtain a suitable position in the Church began gradually to weigh upon his spirits. The bright hopes with which he had started in the flush of youth, the position he was to obtain, the influence he was to wield, and the work he was to do personally, and by his writings, in the field of moral and social reformation were all in sad contrast with the actualities around. He had never risen from the ranks, the army was in a state of disorganisation, almost of mutiny, and the enemy was more bold, unscrupulous, and numerous than ever. It is scarcely to be wondered at that, though not past fifty, he felt prematurely aged, that his youthful enthusiasm which had carried him on bravely in many an attempt to instruct and benefit his fellows at length forsook him and left him a prey to that weakness of body, and that hopelessness of spirit to which he so pathetically alludes in the Prologue to the Mirror of good Manners. All his best work, all the work which has survived to our day, was executed before this date. But the pen was too familiar to his hand to be allowed to drop. His biographers tell us "that when years came on he spent his time mostly in pious matters, and in reading and writing histories of the Saints." A goodly picture of a well-spent old age. The harness of youth he had no longer the spirit and strength to don, the garments of age he gathered resignedly and gracefully about him.

On the violent dissolution of the Monasteries in 1539, when their inmates, the good and bad, the men of wisdom and the "fools," were alike cast adrift upon a rock-bound and stormy coast, the value of the patronage which his literary and personal popularity had brought him, was put to the test, and in the end successfully, though after considerable, but perhaps not to be wondered at, delay. His great patrons, the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Kent, Bishop Cornish, and probably also Sir Giles Alington, were all dead, and he had to rely on newer and necessarily weaker ties. But after waiting, till probably somewhat dispirited, fortune smiled at last. Two handsome livings were presented to him in the same year, both of which he apparently held at the same time, the vicarage of Much Badew in Essex, by the presentation of Mr John Pascal, to which he was instituted on February 7th, 1546, holding it (according to the Lansdowne MS. (980 f. 101), in the British Museum) till his death; and the vicarage of S. Mathew at Wokey, in Somerset, on March 30th of the same year. Wood dignifies him with the degree of doctor of divinity at the time of his presentation to these preferments.

That he seems to have accepted quietly the gradual progress of the reformed religion during the reign of Edward VI., has been a cause of wonder to some. It would certainly have been astonishing had one who was so unsparing in his exposure of the flagrant abuses of the Romish Church done otherwise. Though personally disinclined to radical changes his writings amply show his deep dissatisfaction with things as they were. This renders the more improbable the honours assigned him by Wadding (Scriptores Ordinis Minorum, 1806, p. 5), who promotes him to be Suffragan Bishop of Bath and Wells, and Bale, who, in a slanderous anecdote, the locale of which is also Wells, speaks of him as a chaplain of Queen Mary's, though Mary did not ascend the throne till the year after his death. As these statements are nowhere confirmed, it is not improbable that their authors have fallen into error by confounding the poet Barclay, with a Gilbert Berkeley, who became Bishop of Bath and Wells in 1559. One more undoubted, but tardy, piece of preferment was awarded him which may be regarded as an honour of some significance. On the 30th April 1552, the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury, London, presented him to the Rectory of All Hallows, Lombard Street, but the well-deserved promotion came too late to be enjoyed. A few weeks after, and before the 10th June, at which date his will was proved, he died, as his biographers say, "at a very advanced age;" at the good old age of seventy-six, as shall be shown presently, at Croydon where he had passed his youth, and there in the Church he was buried. "June 10th 1552, Alexander Barkley sepult," (Extract from the Parish Register, in Lyson's Environs of London).

A copy of his will, an extremely interesting and instructive document, has been obtained from Doctors' Commons, and will be found appended. It bears in all its details those traits of character which, from all that we otherwise know, we are led to associate with him. In it we see the earnest, conscientious minister whose first thought is of the poor, the loyal churchman liberal in his support of the house of God, the kind relative in his numerous and considerate bequests to his kith and kin, the amiable, much loved man in the gifts of remembrance to his many friends, and the pious Christian in his wishes for the prayers of his survivors "to Almightie God for remission of my synnes, and mercy upon my soule."

Barclay's career and character, both as a churchman and a man of letters, deserve attention and respect from every student of our early history and literature. In the former capacity he showed himself diligent, honest, and anxious, at a time when these qualities seemed to have been so entirely lost to the church as to form only a subject for clerical ridicule. In the latter, the same qualities are also prominent, diligence, honesty, bold outspokenness, an ardent desire for the pure, the true, and the natural, and an undisguised enmity to everything false, self-seeking, and vile. Everything he did was done in a pure way, and to a worthy end.

Bale stands alone in casting aspersions upon his moral character, asserting, as Ritson puts it, "in his bigoted and foul-mouthed way," that "he continued a hater of truth, and under the disguise of celibacy a filthy adulterer to the last;" and in his Declaration of Bonner's articles (1561, fol. 81), he condescends to an instance to the effect that "Doctoure Barkleye hadde greate harme ones of suche a visitacion, at Wellys, before he was Quene Maryes Chaplayne. For the woman whome he so religiouslye visited did light him of all that he had, sauinge his workinge tolas. For the whiche acte he had her in prison, and yet coulde nothing recouer againe." Whether this story be true of any one is perhaps doubtful, and, if true of a Barclay, we are convinced that he is not our author. It may have arisen as we have seen from a mistake as toidentity.But apart from the question of identity, we have nothing in support of the slander but Bale's "foul-mouthed" assertion, while against it we have the whole tenor and aim of Barclay's published writings. Everywhere he inculcates the highest and purest morality, and where even for that purpose he might be led into descriptions of vice, his disgust carries him past what most others would have felt themselves justified in dealing with. For example, in the chapter of "Disgysyd folys" he expressly passes over as lightly as possible what might to others have proved a tempting subject:

"They disceyue myndes chaste and innocentWith dyuers wayes whiche I wyll nat expresLyst that whyle I labour this cursyd gyse to styntI myght to them mynyster example of lewdnesAnd therfore in this part I shall say lesThan doth my actour."

"They disceyue myndes chaste and innocent

With dyuers wayes whiche I wyll nat expres

Lyst that whyle I labour this cursyd gyse to stynt

I myght to them mynyster example of lewdnes

And therfore in this part I shall say les

Than doth my actour."

Elsewhere he declares:

"for my boke certaynlyI haue compyled: for vertue and goodnesAnd to reuyle foule synne and vyciousnes"

"for my boke certaynly

I haue compyled: for vertue and goodnes

And to reuyle foule synne and vyciousnes"

But citation is needless; there is not a page of his writings which will not supply similar evidence, and our great early moralist may, we think, be dismissed from Court without a stain on his character.

Indeed to his high pitched morality, he doubtless owed in some degree the great and extended popularity of his poetical writings in former times and their neglect in later. Sermons and "good" books were not yet in the sixteenth century an extensive branch of literature, and "good" people could without remorse of conscience vary their limited theological reading by frowning over the improprieties and sins of their neighbours as depicted in the "Ship," and joining, with a serious headshaking heartiness, in the admonitions of the translator to amendment, or they might feel "strengthened" by a glance into the "Mirrour of good Maners," or edified by hearing of the "Miseryes of Courtiers and Courtes of all princes in generall," as told in the "Eclogues."

Certain it is that these writings owed little of their acceptance to touches of humour or satire, to the gifts of a poetical imagination, or the grace of a polished diction. The indignation of the honest man and the earnestness of the moralist waited not for gifts and graces. Everything went down, hard, rough, even uncouth as it stood, of course gaining in truth and in graphic power what it wants in elegance. Still, with no refinement, polish or elaboration, there are many picturesque passages scattered throughout these works which no amount of polishing could have improved. How could a man in a rage be better touched off than thus ("Ship" I. 182, 15).

"This man malycious whiche troubled is with wrathNought els soundeth but the hoorse letter R."

"This man malycious whiche troubled is with wrath

Nought els soundeth but the hoorse letter R."

The passion of love is so graphically described that it is difficult to imagine our priestly moralist a total stranger to its power, (I. 81).

"For he that loueth is voyde of all reasonWandrynge in the worlde without lawe or mesureIn thought and fere sore vexed eche seasonAnd greuous dolours in loue he must endureNo creature hym selfe, may well assureFrom loues soft dartis: I say none on the groundeBut mad and folysshe bydes he whiche hath the woundeAye rennynge as franatyke no reason in his myndeHe hath no constaunce nor ease within his herteHis iyen ar blynde, his wyll alwaye inclynedTo louys preceptes yet can nat he departeThe Net is stronge, the sole caught can nat starteThe darte is sharpe, who euer is in the chayneCan nat his sorowe in vysage hyde nor fayne"

"For he that loueth is voyde of all reason

Wandrynge in the worlde without lawe or mesure

In thought and fere sore vexed eche season

And greuous dolours in loue he must endure

No creature hym selfe, may well assure

From loues soft dartis: I say none on the grounde

But mad and folysshe bydes he whiche hath the wounde

Aye rennynge as franatyke no reason in his myndeHe hath no constaunce nor ease within his herteHis iyen ar blynde, his wyll alwaye inclynedTo louys preceptes yet can nat he departeThe Net is stronge, the sole caught can nat starteThe darte is sharpe, who euer is in the chayneCan nat his sorowe in vysage hyde nor fayne"

Aye rennynge as franatyke no reason in his mynde

He hath no constaunce nor ease within his herte

His iyen ar blynde, his wyll alwaye inclyned

To louys preceptes yet can nat he departe

The Net is stronge, the sole caught can nat starte

The darte is sharpe, who euer is in the chayne

Can nat his sorowe in vysage hyde nor fayne"

For expressive, happy simile, the two following examples are capital:—

"Yet sometimes riches is geuen by some chanceTo such as of good haue greatest aboundaunce.Likewise as streames unto the sea do glide.But on bare hills no water will abide.· · · · · ·So smallest persons haue small rewarde alwayBut men of worship set in authoritieMust haue rewardes great after their degree."—EclogueI."And so such thinges which princes to thee geueTo thee be as sure as water in a siue· · · · · · ·So princes are wont with riches some to fedeAs we do our swine when we of larde haue nedeWe fede our hogges them after to deuourWhen they be fatted by costes and labour."—EclogueI.

"Yet sometimes riches is geuen by some chance

To such as of good haue greatest aboundaunce.

Likewise as streames unto the sea do glide.

But on bare hills no water will abide.

· · · · · ·

So smallest persons haue small rewarde alway

But men of worship set in authoritie

Must haue rewardes great after their degree."—EclogueI.

"And so such thinges which princes to thee geueTo thee be as sure as water in a siue· · · · · · ·So princes are wont with riches some to fedeAs we do our swine when we of larde haue nedeWe fede our hogges them after to deuourWhen they be fatted by costes and labour."—EclogueI.

"And so such thinges which princes to thee geue

To thee be as sure as water in a siue

· · · · · · ·

So princes are wont with riches some to fede

As we do our swine when we of larde haue nede

We fede our hogges them after to deuour

When they be fatted by costes and labour."—EclogueI.

The everlasting conceit of musical humanity is very truthfully hit off.

"This is of singers the very propertieAlway they coueyt desired for to beAnd when their frendes would heare of their cunningThen are they neuer disposed for to sing,But if they begin desired of no manThen shewe they all and more then they canAnd neuer leaue they till men of them be wery,So in their conceyt their cunning they set by."—Eclogue II.

"This is of singers the very propertie

Alway they coueyt desired for to be

And when their frendes would heare of their cunning

Then are they neuer disposed for to sing,

But if they begin desired of no man

Then shewe they all and more then they can

And neuer leaue they till men of them be wery,

So in their conceyt their cunning they set by."—Eclogue II.

Pithy sayings are numerous. Comparing citizens with countrymen, the countryman says:—

"Fortune to them is like a mother dereAs a stepmother she doth to us appeare."

"Fortune to them is like a mother dere

As a stepmother she doth to us appeare."

Of money:

"Coyne more than cunning exalteth every man."

Of clothing:

"It is not clothing can make a man be goodBetter is in ragges pure liuing innocentThan a soule defiled in sumptuous garment."

"It is not clothing can make a man be good

Better is in ragges pure liuing innocent

Than a soule defiled in sumptuous garment."

It is as the graphic delineator of the life and condition of the country in his period that the chief interest of Barclay's writings, and especially of the "Ship of Fools," now lies. Nowhere so accessibly, so fully, and so truthfully will be found the state of Henry the Eighth's England set forth. Every line bears the character of truthfulness, written as it evidently is, in all the soberness of sadness, by one who had no occasion to exaggerate, whose only object and desire was, by massing together and describing faithfully the follies and abuses which were evident to all, to shame every class into some degree of moral reformation, and, in particular, to effect some amelioration of circumstances to the suffering poor.

And a sad picture it is which we thus obtain of merrie England in the good old times of bluff King Hal, wanting altogether in thecouleur de rosewith which it is tinted by its latest historian Mr Froude, who is ably taken to task on this subject by a recent writer in the Westminster Review, whose conclusions, formed upon other evidence than Barclay's, express so fairly the impression left by a perusal of the "Ship of Fools," and the Eclogues, that we quote them here. "Mr Froude remarks: 'Looking therefore, at the state of England as a whole, I cannot doubt that under Henry the body of the people were prosperous, well-fed, loyal, and contented. In all points of material comfort, they were as well off as ever they had been before; better off than they have ever been in later times.' In this estimate we cannot agree. Rather we should say that during, and for long after, this reign, the people were in the most deplorable condition of poverty and misery of every kind. That they were ill-fed, that loyalty was at its lowest ebb, that discontent was rife throughout the land. 'In all points of material comfort,' we think they were worse off than they had ever been before, and infinitely worse off than they have ever been since the close of the sixteenth century,—a century in which the cup of England's woes was surely fuller than it has ever been since, or will, we trust, ever be again. It was the century in which this country and its people passed through a baptism of blood as well as 'a baptism of fire,' and out of which they came holier and better. The epitaph which should be inscribed over the century is contained in a sentence written by the famous Acham in 1547:—'Nam vita, quæ nunc vivitur a plurimis, non vita sed miseria est.'" So, Bradford (Sermon on Repentance, 1533) sums up contemporary opinion in a single weighty sentence: "All men may see if they will that the whoredom pride, unmercifulness, and tyranny of England far surpasses any age that ever was before." Every page of Barclay corroborates these accounts of tyranny, injustice, immorality, wretchedness, poverty, and general discontent.

Not only in fact and feeling are Barclay's Ship of Fools and Eclogues thoroughly expressive of the unhappy, discontented, poverty-stricken, priest-ridden, and court-ridden condition and life, the bitter sorrows and the humble wishes of the people, their very texture, as Barclay himself tells us, consists of the commonest language of the day, and in it are interwoven many of the current popular proverbs and expressions. Almost all of these are still "household words" though few ever imagine the garb of their "daily wisdom" to be of such venerable antiquity. Every page of the "Eclogues" abounds with them; in the "Ship" they are less common, but still by no means infrequent. We have for instance:—

"Better is a frende in courte than a peny in purse"—(I. 70.)"Whan the stede is stolyn to shyt the stable dore"—(I. 76.)"It goeth through as water through a syue."—(I. 245.)"And he that alway thretenyth for to fyghtOft at the prose is skantly worth a henFor greattest crakers ar nat ay boldest men."—(I. 198.)"I fynde foure thynges whiche by no meanes canBe kept close, in secrete, or longe in preueteeThe firste is the counsell of a wytles manThe seconde is a cyte whiche byldyd is a hyeUpon a montayne the thyrde we often seThat to hyde his dedes a louer hath no skyllThe fourth is strawe or fethers on a wyndy hyll."—(I. 199.)"A crowe to pull."—(II. 8.)"For it is a prouerbe, and an olde sayd saweThat in euery place lyke to lyke wyll drawe."—(II. 35.)"Better haue one birde sure within thy wallOr fast in a cage than twenty score without"—(II. 74)"Gapynge as it were dogges for a bone."—(II. 93.)"Pryde sholde haue a fall."—(II. 161)."For wyse men sayth ...One myshap fortuneth neuer alone.""Clawe where it itchyth."—(II. 256.) [The use of this, it occurs again in the Eclogues, might be regarded by some of our Southern friends, as itself a sufficient proof of the author's Northern origin.]

"Better is a frende in courte than a peny in purse"—(I. 70.)

"Whan the stede is stolyn to shyt the stable dore"—(I. 76.)

"It goeth through as water through a syue."—(I. 245.)

"And he that alway thretenyth for to fyght

Oft at the prose is skantly worth a hen

For greattest crakers ar nat ay boldest men."—(I. 198.)

"I fynde foure thynges whiche by no meanes can

Be kept close, in secrete, or longe in preuetee

The firste is the counsell of a wytles man

The seconde is a cyte whiche byldyd is a hye

Upon a montayne the thyrde we often se

That to hyde his dedes a louer hath no skyll

The fourth is strawe or fethers on a wyndy hyll."—(I. 199.)

"A crowe to pull."—(II. 8.)

"For it is a prouerbe, and an olde sayd sawe

That in euery place lyke to lyke wyll drawe."—(II. 35.)

"Better haue one birde sure within thy wall

Or fast in a cage than twenty score without"—(II. 74)

"Gapynge as it were dogges for a bone."—(II. 93.)

"Pryde sholde haue a fall."—(II. 161).

"For wyse men sayth ...

One myshap fortuneth neuer alone."

"Clawe where it itchyth."—(II. 256.) [The use of this, it occurs again in the Eclogues, might be regarded by some of our Southern friends, as itself a sufficient proof of the author's Northern origin.]

The following are selected from the Eclogues as the most remarkable:

"Each man for himself, and the fende for us all.""They robbe Saint Peter therwith to clothe Saint Powle.""For might of water will not our leasure bide.""Once out of sight and shortly out of minde.""For children brent still after drede the fire.""Together they cleave more fast than do burres.""Tho' thy teeth water.""I aske of the foxe no farther than the skin.""To touche soft pitche and not his fingers file.""From post unto piller tost shall thou be.""Over head and eares.""Go to the ant.""A man may contende, God geueth victory.""Of two evils chose the least."

"Each man for himself, and the fende for us all."

"They robbe Saint Peter therwith to clothe Saint Powle."

"For might of water will not our leasure bide."

"Once out of sight and shortly out of minde."

"For children brent still after drede the fire."

"Together they cleave more fast than do burres."

"Tho' thy teeth water."

"I aske of the foxe no farther than the skin."

"To touche soft pitche and not his fingers file."

"From post unto piller tost shall thou be."

"Over head and eares."

"Go to the ant."

"A man may contende, God geueth victory."

"Of two evils chose the least."

These are but the more striking specimens. An examination of the "Ship," and especially of the "Eclogues," for the purpose of extracting their whole proverbial lore, would be well worth the while, if it be not the duty, of the next collector in this branch of popular literature. These writings introduce many of our common sayings for the first time to English literature, no writer prior to Barclay having thought it dignified or worth while to profit by the popular wisdom to any perceptible extent. The first collection of proverbs, Heywood's, did not appear until 1546, so that in Barclay we possess the earliest known English form of such proverbs as he introduces. It need scarcely be said that that form is, in the majority of instances, more full of meaning and point than its modern representatives.

Barclay's adoption of the language of the people naturally elevated him in popular estimation to a position far above that of his contemporaries in the matter of style, so much so that he has been traditionally recorded as one of the greatest improvers of the language, that is, one of those who helped greatly to bring the written language to be more nearly in accordance with the spoken. Both a scholar and a man of the world, his phraseology bears token of the greater cultivation and wider knowledge he possessed over his contemporaries. He certainly aimed at clearness of expression, and simplicity of vocabulary, and in these respects was so far in advance of his time that his works can even now be read with ease, without the help of dictionary or glossary. In spite of his church training and his residence abroad, his works are surprisingly free from Latin or French forms of speech; on the contrary, they are, in the main, characterised by a strong Saxon directness of expression which must have tended greatly to the continuance of their popularity, and have exercised a strong and advantageous influence both in regulating the use of the common spoken language, and in leading the way which it was necessary for the literary language to follow. Philologists and dictionary makers appear, however, to have hitherto overlooked Barclay's works, doubtless owing to their rarity, but their intrinsic value as well as their position in relation to the history of the language demand specific recognition at their hands.

Barclay evidently delighted in his pen. From the time of his return from the Continent, it was seldom out of his hand. Idleness was distasteful to him. He petitions his critics if they be "wyse men and cunnynge," that:—

"They shall my youth pardone, and vnchraftynesWhiche onely translate, to eschewe ydelnes."

"They shall my youth pardone, and vnchraftynes

Whiche onely translate, to eschewe ydelnes."

Assuredly a much more laudable way of employing leisure then than now, unless the translator prudently stop short of print. The modesty and singleness of aim of the man are strikingly illustrated by his thus devoting his time and talents, not to original work as he was well able to have done had he been desirous only of glorifying his own name, but to the translation and adaptation or, better, "Englishing" of such foreign authors as he deemed would exercise a wholesome and profitable influence upon his countrymen. Such work, however, moulded in his skilful hands, became all but original, little being left of his author but the idea. Neither the Ship of Fools, nor the Eclogues retain perceptible traces of a foreign source, and were it not that they honestly bear their authorship on their fore-front, they might be regarded as thoroughly, even characteristically, English productions.

The first known work from Barclay's pen[3]appeared from the press of De Worde, so early as 1506, probably immediately on his return from abroad, and was no doubt the fruit of continental leisure. It is a translation, in seven line stanzas, of the popular French poet Pierre Gringore's Le Chateau de labour (1499)—the most ancient work of Gringore with date, and perhaps his best—under the title of "The Castell of laboure wherein is richesse, vertu, and honour;" in which in a fanciful allegory of some length, a somewhat wearisome Lady Reason overcomes despair, poverty and other such evils attendant upon the fortunes of a poor man lately married, the moral being to show:—

"That idleness, mother of all adversity,Her subjects bringeth to extreme poverty."

"That idleness, mother of all adversity,

Her subjects bringeth to extreme poverty."

The general appreciation of this first essay is evidenced by the issue of a second edition from the press of Pynson a few years after the appearance of the first.

Encouraged by the favourable reception accorded to the first effort of his muse, Barclay, on his retirement to the ease and leisure of the College of St Mary Otery, set to work on the "Ship of Fools," acquaintance with which Europe-famous satire he must have made when abroad. This, hismagnum opus, has been described at some length in the Introduction, but two interesting personal notices relative to the composition of the work may here be added. In the execution of the great task, he expresses himself, (II. 278), as under the greatest obligations to his colleague, friend, and literary adviser, Bishop:—

"Whiche was the first ouersear of this warkeAnd vnto his frende gaue his aduysementIt nat to suffer to slepe styll in the darkeBut to be publysshyd abrode: and put to prentTo thy monycion my bysshop I assentBesechynge god that I that day may seThat thy honour may prospere and augmentSo that thy name and offyce may agre· · · · · ·In this short balade I can nat comprehendeAll my full purpose that I wolde to the wryteBut fayne I wolde that thou sholde sone assendeTo heuenly worshyp and celestyall delyteThan shoulde I after my pore wyt and respyt,Display thy name, and great kyndnes to meBut at this tyme no farther I indyteBut pray that thy name and worshyp may agre."

"Whiche was the first ouersear of this warke

And vnto his frende gaue his aduysement

It nat to suffer to slepe styll in the darke

But to be publysshyd abrode: and put to prent

To thy monycion my bysshop I assent

Besechynge god that I that day may se

That thy honour may prospere and augment

So that thy name and offyce may agre

· · · · · ·

In this short balade I can nat comprehende

All my full purpose that I wolde to the wryte

But fayne I wolde that thou sholde sone assende

To heuenly worshyp and celestyall delyte

Than shoulde I after my pore wyt and respyt,

Display thy name, and great kyndnes to me

But at this tyme no farther I indyte

But pray that thy name and worshyp may agre."

Pynson, in his capacity of judicious publisher, fearing lest the book should exceed suitable dimensions, also receives due notice at p. 108 of Vol. I., where he speaks of

"the charge Pynson hathe on me laydeWith many folys our Nauy not to charge."

"the charge Pynson hathe on me layde

With many folys our Nauy not to charge."

The concluding stanza, or colophon, is also devoted to immortalising the great bibliopole in terms, it must be admitted, not dissimilar to those of a modern draper's poet laureate:—

Our Shyp here leuyth the sees brodeBy helpe of God almyght and quyetlyAt Anker we lye within the rodeBut who that lysteth of them to byeIn Flete strete shall them fynde trulyAt the George: in Richarde Pynsonnes placePrynter vnto the Kynges noble grace.Deo gratias.

Our Shyp here leuyth the sees brode

By helpe of God almyght and quyetly

At Anker we lye within the rode

But who that lysteth of them to bye

In Flete strete shall them fynde truly

At the George: in Richarde Pynsonnes place

Prynter vnto the Kynges noble grace.

Deo gratias.

Contemporary allusions to the Ship of Fools there could not fail to be, but the only one we have met with occurs in Bulleyn's Dialogue quoted above, p. xxvii. It runs as follows:—Uxor.—What ship is that with so many owers, and straunge tacle; it is a greate vessell.Ciuis.—This is the ship of fooles, wherin saileth bothe spirituall and temporall, of euery callyng some: there are kynges, queenes, popes, archbishoppes, prelates, lordes, ladies, knightes, gentlemen, phisicions, lawiers, marchauntes, housbandemen, beggers, theeues, hores, knaues, &c. This ship wanteth a good pilot: the storme, the rocke, and the wrecke at hande, all will come to naught in this hulke for want of good gouernement.

The Eclogues, as appears from their Prologue, had originally been the work of our author's youth, "the essays of a prentice in the art of poesie," but they were wisely laid past to be adorned by the wisdom of a wider experience, and were, strangely enough, lost for years until, at the age of thirty-eight, the author again lighted, unexpectedly, upon his lost treasures, and straightway finished them off for the public eye.

The following autobiographical passage reminds one forcibly of Scott's throwing aside Waverley, stumbling across it after the lapse of years, and thereupon deciding at once to finish and publish it. After enumerating the most famous eclogue writers, he proceeds:—

"Nowe to my purpose, their workes worthy fame,Did in my yonge age my heart greatly inflame,Dull slouth eschewing my selfe to exercise,In such small matters, or I durst enterprise,To hyer matter, like as these children do,Which first vse to creepe, and afterwarde to go.· · · · · · · ·So where I in youth a certayne worke began,And not concluded, as oft doth many a man:Yet thought I after to make the same perfite,But long I missed that which I first did write.But here a wonder, I fortie yere saue twayne,Proceeded in age, founde my first youth agayne.To finde youth in age is a probleme diffuse,But nowe heare the truth, and then no longer muse.As I late turned olde bookes to and fro,One litle treatise I founde among the moBecause that in youth I did compile the same,Egloges of youth I did call it by name.And seing some men haue in the same delite,At their great instance I made the same perfite,Adding and bating where I perceyued neede,All them desiring which shall this treatise rede,Not to be grieued with any playne sentence,Rudely conuayed for lacke of eloquence."

"Nowe to my purpose, their workes worthy fame,

Did in my yonge age my heart greatly inflame,

Dull slouth eschewing my selfe to exercise,

In such small matters, or I durst enterprise,

To hyer matter, like as these children do,

Which first vse to creepe, and afterwarde to go.

· · · · · · · ·

So where I in youth a certayne worke began,

And not concluded, as oft doth many a man:

Yet thought I after to make the same perfite,

But long I missed that which I first did write.

But here a wonder, I fortie yere saue twayne,

Proceeded in age, founde my first youth agayne.

To finde youth in age is a probleme diffuse,

But nowe heare the truth, and then no longer muse.

As I late turned olde bookes to and fro,

One litle treatise I founde among the mo

Because that in youth I did compile the same,

Egloges of youth I did call it by name.

And seing some men haue in the same delite,

At their great instance I made the same perfite,

Adding and bating where I perceyued neede,

All them desiring which shall this treatise rede,

Not to be grieued with any playne sentence,

Rudely conuayed for lacke of eloquence."

The most important revelation in the whole of this interesting passage, that relating to the author's age, seems to have been studiously overlooked by all his biographers. If we can fix with probability the date at which these Eclogues were published, then this, one of the most regretted of the lacunæ in his biography, will be supplied. We shall feel henceforth treading on firmer ground in dealing with the scanty materials of his life.

From the length and favour with which the praises of the Ely Cathedral and of Alcock its pious and munificent bishop, then but recently dead, are sung in these poems (see p. lxviii.), it is evident that the poet must have donned the black hood in the monastery of Ely for at least a few years.

Warton fixes the date at 1514, because of the praises of the "noble Henry which now departed late," and the after panegyric of his successor Henry VIII. (Eclogue I.), whose virtues are also duly recorded in the Ship of Fools (I. 39 and II. 205-8), but not otherwise of course than in a complimentary manner. Our later lights make this picture of the noble pair appear both out of drawing and over-coloured:—

"Beside noble Henry which nowe departed late,Spectacle of vertue to euery hye estate,The patrone of peace and primate of prudence,Which on Gods Church hath done so great expence.Of all these princes the mercy and pitie,The loue of concorde, iustice and equitie,The purenes of life and giftes liberall,Not lesse vertuous then the said princes all.And Henry the eyght moste hye and triumphant,No gifte of vertue nor manlines doth want,Mine humble spech and language pastorallIf it were able should write his actes all:But while I ought speake of courtly misery,Him with all suche I except vtterly.But what other princes commonly frequent,As true as I can to shewe is mine intent,But if I should say that all the misery,Which I shall after rehearse and specifyWere in the court of our moste noble kinge,I should fayle truth, and playnly make leasing."—EclogueI.

"Beside noble Henry which nowe departed late,

Spectacle of vertue to euery hye estate,

The patrone of peace and primate of prudence,

Which on Gods Church hath done so great expence.

Of all these princes the mercy and pitie,

The loue of concorde, iustice and equitie,

The purenes of life and giftes liberall,

Not lesse vertuous then the said princes all.

And Henry the eyght moste hye and triumphant,

No gifte of vertue nor manlines doth want,

Mine humble spech and language pastorall

If it were able should write his actes all:

But while I ought speake of courtly misery,

Him with all suche I except vtterly.

But what other princes commonly frequent,

As true as I can to shewe is mine intent,

But if I should say that all the misery,

Which I shall after rehearse and specify

Were in the court of our moste noble kinge,

I should fayle truth, and playnly make leasing."—EclogueI.

This eulogy of Henry plainly implies some short experience of his reign. But other allusions contribute more definitely to fix the precise date, such as the following historical passage, which evidently refers to the career of the notorious extortioners, Empson and Dudley, who were executed for conspiracy and treason in the first year of the new king's reign.

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