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friends that in 1580 and in 1880 is essentially the same, however its outward forms may vary. Gabriel Harvey was in 1580 about thirty years old. was the eldest of four sons of a prosperous ropemaker, at Saffron Walden, who spent money very liberally in the education of his children. Gabriel had gone to Cambridge and distinguished himself there. He had lectured on rhetoric, had aspired to the post of Public Orator, had been employed by the Earl of Leicester upon confidential service, and his lively interest in literature had thus brought him into an acquaintance that became familiar friendship with Leicester's nephew, Sir Philip Sidney. When Edmund Spenser went to Cambridge he found Harvey there with a standing acquired by his abilities, and honour among students of the University as a young leader in matters of taste and criticism. Between Harvey and Spenser a strong friendship was established, and it was Harvey who, just before 1580, had found an opportunity of introducing his friend Spenser into Leicester's service and giving him his first start in the world. Gabriel Harvey had been strongly interested in the publication of Spenser's first book, "The Shepherd's Calendar," in 1579-Spenser's age then being six-and-twenty, Harvey's perhaps twentyeight or twenty-nine-and the introduction to Leicester had not only brought Spenser and Philip Sidney together, joining Spenser to the friendship between Sidney and Harvey and to their discussions about poetry, but led to Spenser's appointment as secretary to Earl Grey of Wilton, with whom he went to Ireland in 1580. While he was still in London, Spenser received from his friend Harvey a letter occasioned by the earthquake which happened in England on the evening of the 6th of April in that year. Harvey published this with two other letters between himself and Spenser, under the title of "Three proper and wittie familiar Letters lately passed betweene two University men, touching the Earthquake in April last and our English reformed versifying, with the preface of a well-wisher to them both." He had two purposes in the publication; one was to recommend the notion, then much occupying his mind, of adopting Latin measures as the form of English verse; the other was to oppose the general tendency to look upon earthquakes as miracles portending calamity, or otherwise prophetic, and suggest that they had causes which were to be found among the usual operations of nature. His endeavour to find these causes was bounded by the knowledge of the time, but he was right in the way of his endeavour to abate a superstition based on ignorance. His letter to Spenser-addressed by his name as the new poet, Immerito-written on the morning after the earthquake, gives this lively sketch of familiar talk in an Elizabethan country house near Saffron Walden on the evening of the 6th of April, 1580:

A PLEASANT AND PITHY FAMILIAR DISCOURSE OF THE EARTHQUAKE IN APRIL LAST.

To my loving friend, M. Immerito. Signor Immerito, after as many gentle goodmorrows as yourself and your sweet heart listeth: May it please your Mastership to dispense with a poor Orator of yours for break

ing one principal grand rule of our old inviolable rules of rhetoric, in showing himself somewhat too pleasurably disposed in a sad matter: Of purpose, to meet with a couple of shrewd witty new-married gentlewomen which were more inquisitive than capable of Nature's works, I will report you a pretty conceited discourse that I had with them no longer ago than yesternight, in a gentleman's house here in Essex. Where being in the company of certain courteous gentlemen, and those two gentlewomen, it was my chance to be well occupied, I warrant you, at cards (which I dare say I scarcely handled a whole twelvemonth before), at that very instant that the earth under us quaked and the house shaked above: besides the moving and rattling of the table and forms where we sat. Whereupon, the two gentlewomen having been continually wrangling with all the rest, and especially with myself, and even at that very same moment making a great loud noise and much ado, "Good Lord," quoth I, "is it not wonderful strange that the delicate voices of two so proper fine gentlewomen should make such a sudden terrible earthquake?" Imagining, in good faith, nothing in the world less than that it should be any earthquake indeed, and imputing that shaking to the sudden stirring and removing of some cumbrous thing or other in the upper chamber over our heads: which only in effect most of us noted, scarcely perceiving the rest, being so closely and eagerly set at our game, and some of us taking on as they did. But behold, all on the sudden there cometh tumbling into the parlour the gentleman of the house, somewhat strangely affrighted and in a manner all aghast, and telleth us, as well as his head and tongue would give him leave, what a wondrous violent motion and shaking there was of all things in his hall; sensibly and visibly seen, as well of his own self as of many of his servants and neighbours there. I straightways beginning to think somewhat more seriously of the matter: "Then I pray you, good sir,” quoth I, "send presently one of your servants into the town to enquire if the like hath happened there, as most likely is, and then must it needs be some earthquake." Whereat the good fearful gentleman being a little recomforted (as mishouse, as many others did), and immediately dispatching his doubting and dreading before, I know not what in his own

man into the town, we had by and by certain word that it was general over all the town, and within less than a quarter of an hour after, that the very like happened the next town too, being a far greater and goodlier town. The gentlewomen's hearts, nothing acquainted with any such accidents, were marvellously daunted: and they that immediately before were so eagerly and greedily preying on us, began now, forsooth, very demurely and devoutly to pray unto God, and the one especially, that was even now on the housetop, "I beseech you heartily," quoth she, "let us leave off playing and fall a praying. By my truly, I was never so scared in my life. Methinks it is marvellous strange!" "What, good partner, cannot you pray to yourself," quoth one of the gentlemen, "but all the house must hear you and sing 'All In to our Lady's matins?' I see women are every way vehement and affectionate. Yourself was liker even now to make a fray than to pray, and will you now needs in all haste be on both your knees? Let us, and you say it, first dispute the matter, what danger and terror it carrieth with it. God be praised it is already ceased, and here be some present that are able cunningly and clerkly to argue the case. I beseech you, master (or mistress) your zealous and devout passion awhile." And with that, turning to me, and smiling a little at the first: "Now I pray you, Master H., what say you philosophers," quoth he, "to this sudden earthquake? May there not be some sensible natural cause thereof in the concavities of the earth itself, as some forcible and violent

eruption of wind or the like?" "Yes, no doubt, sir, may there," quoth I, "as well as an intelligible supernatural : and, peradventure, the great abundance and superfluity of waters that fell shortly after Michaelmas last, being not as yet dried or drawn up with the heat of the sun, which hath not yet recovered his full attractive strength and power, might minister some occasion thereof, as might easily be discovered by Natural Philosophy in what sort the pores and vents and crannies of the earth being so stopped and filled up everywhere with moisture, that the windy exhalations and vapours pent up as it were in the bowels thereof could not otherwise get out and ascend to their natural original place. But the terms of art and very natures of things themselves so utterly unknown as they are to most here, it were a piece of work to lay open the reason to every one's capacity." "I know well it is we you mean," quoth one of the gentlewomen (whom for distinction sake, and because I imagine they would be loth to be named, I will hereafter call Mistress Inquisitiva, and the other Madame Incredula). "Now, I beseech you, learned sir, try our wits a little, and let us hear a piece of your deep University cunning." Seeing you gentlewomen will algates have it so, with a good will," quoth I: and then, forsooth, very solemnly pausing awhile, most gravely and doctorally proceeded as followeth :

"The earth, you know, is a mighty great huge body, and consisteth of many divers and contrary members and veins and arteries and concavities wherein, to avoid the absurdity of vacuum, must necessarily be great store of substantial matter, and sundry accidental humours and fumes and spirits, either good, or bad, or mixed. Good they cannot possibly all be whereat is engendered so much bad, as namely so many poisonful and venomous herbs and beasts, besides a thousand infective and contagious things else. If they be bad, bad you must needs grant is subject to bad, and then can there not, I warrant you, want an object for bad to work upon. If mixed, which seemeth most probable, yet is it impossible that there should be such an equal and proportionable temperature, in all and singular respects, but sometime the evil (in the devil's name) will as it were interchangeably have his natural predominant course, and issue one way or other. Which evil working vehemently in the parts, and maliciously encountering the good, forcibly tosseth and cruelly disturbeth the whole: which conflict endureth so long, and is fostered with abundance of corrupt, putrefied humours, and illfavoured gross infected matter, that it must needs (as well, or rather as ill, as in men's and women's bodies) burst out in the end into one perilous disease or other, and sometime, for want of natural voiding such feverous and flatuous spirits as lurk within, into such a violent chill shivering shaking ague as even now you see the earth have. Which ague, or rather every fit thereof, we scholars call grossly and homely Terræ motus, a moving or stirring of the earth, you gentlewomen, that be learned, somewhat more finely and daintily Terræ metus, a fear and agony of the earth: we being only moved and not terrified, you being only, in a manner, terrified, and scarcely moved, therewith. Now here, and it please you, lieth the point and quiddity of the controversy, whether our Motus or your Metus be the better and more consonant to the principles and maxims of philosophy: the one being manly and devoid of dread, the other womanish and most wofully quivering and shivering for very fear. In sooth, I use not to dissemble with gentlewomen: I am flatly of opinion the earth whereof man was immediately made and not woman, is in all proportions and similitudes liker us than you, and when

1 The word in the original is exhaltations.

it fortuneth to be distempered and diseased, either in part or in whole, I am persuaded, and I believe reason and philosophy will bear me out in it, it only moveth with the very impulsive force of the malady, and not trembleth or quaketh for dastardly fear. Now, I beseech you, what think ye, gentlewomen, by this reason?" "Reason!" quoth Madame Incredula. "I can neither pick out rhyme nor reason out of any thing I have heard yet. And yet, methinks, all should be Gospel that cometh from you Doctors of Cambridge. But I see well all is not gold that glisteneth." "Indeed," quoth Mistress Inquisitiva, "here is much ado, I trow, and little help. But it pleaseth Master H. (to delight himself and these gentlemen) to tell us a trim goodly tale of Robin Hood, I know not what; or sure, if this be Gospel I doubt I am not in good belief. Trust me truly, Sir, your eloquence far passeth my intelligence." Did I not tell you aforehand," quoth I, "as much? And yet would you needs presume of your capacities in such profound mysteries of philosophy and privities of Nature as these be, the very thinking whereof (unless happily it be per fidem implicitam, in believing as the learned believe and saying, It is so because it is so) is nigh enough to cast you both into a fit or two of a dangerous shaking fever unless you presently seek some remedy to prevent it. And in earnest, if ye will give me leave, upon that small skill I have in extrinsical and intrinsical physiognomy, and so forth, I will wager all the money in my poor purse to a pottle of hippocras, you shall both this night, within somewhat less than two hours and a half, dream of terrible strange agues and agonies, as well in your own pretty bodies as in the might great body of the earth." "You are very merrily disposed, God be praised," quoth Mistress Inquisitiva, “I am glad to see you so pleasurable. No doubt but you are marvellous privy to our dreams. But I pray you now in a little good earnest, do you scholars think that it is the very reason indeed that you spake of even now!" "There be many of

us, good Mistress," quoth I, "of that opinion: wherein I am content to appeal to the knowledge of these learned gentlemen here. And some again of our finest conceited heads defend this position (a very strange paradox in my fancy): the earth having taken in too much to drink and, as it were, over lavish cups, as it hath sensibly done in a manner all this winter past, now staggereth, and reeleth, and tottereth, this way and that way, up and down, like a drunken man or woman when their alebench rhetoric comes upon them, and specially the moving pathetical figure Pottyposis, and therefore, in this forcible sort you lately saw, paineth itself to vomit up again that so disordereth and disquieteth the whole body within. And, forsooth, a few contradictory fellows make no more of it but a certain vehement and passionate neesing, or sobbing, or coughing, wherewithal, they say, and as they say, say with great physical and natural reason, the earth, in some place or other ever lightly after any great and sudden alteration of weather or diet is exceedingly troubled and pained, as, namely, this very time of the year, after the extreme pinching cold of winter, and again in autumn, after the extreme parching heat of summer. But shall I tell you, Mistress Inquisitiva? The soundest philosophers indeed, and very deepest secretaries of Nature, hold, if it please you, another assertion, and maintain this for truth (which, at the least wise, of all other seemeth marvellous reasonable, and is questionless farthest off from heresy): that as the earth upon it hath many stately and boisterous and fierce creatures, as namely, men and women and divers beasts, whereof some one is in manner continually at variance and feud with another, evermore seeking to be revenged upon his enemy, which eftsoons breaketh forth into professed and open hostility, and then

three years before, when the first theatre was built, and joined the players at the "Curtain,” recanted all faith in his art, and in a pamphlet, called "The School of Abuse," joined the harshest of the Puritans in condemnation of "Poets, pipers, players, jesters, and such-like caterpillars of a commonwealth." With a curious clumsiness Gosson, an honest man, who became a faithful city clergyman, dedicated this indiscriminate attack upon all poets to Sir Philip Sidney. Sidney was at that time twenty-five years old, honoured and loved by Queen and Court, a poet and a friend of poets, but essentially a man of action, with a deeply religious nature. The Protestants of Europe looked forward to the day when a youth of such large promise among English hereditary statesmen, should be foremost, under the Sovereign, in directing English policy. When Gosson's pamphlet appeared Spenser had not been long in London, employed by Sidney's uncle Leicester, and the friendship between Spenser and Sidney was then newly formed. It was the year in which Spenser published his first book, "The Shepherd's Calendar." Gosson's "School of Abuse was only one example of much ignorant attack on poetry by dull, well-meaning men, and the dedication of such a book to him probably stirred Philip Sidney to write not long afterwards his "Apologie for Poetrie," the first piece of true literary criticism in our English literature. It was written in 1581, although not published until 1595, nine years after its author's death. William Webbe's "Discourse of English Poetrie" had been printed in 1586, and George Puttenham's "Art of English Poetrie," written later (about 1585), had been printed earlier, in 1589. But these books, though written after, and printed before, Sidney's

Apologie," in no way enter into competition with it. They deal chiefly with the body, or the mechanism, of verse, but Philip Sidney looked entirely to its soul.

AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE.

Written by the Right Noble, Vertuous, and Learned Sir
Philip Sidney, Knight.

When the right virtuous Edward Wotton' and I were at the Emperor's court together, we gave ourselves to learn horsemanship of Gio. Pietro Pugliano; one that, with great commendation, had the place of an esquire in his stable; and he, according to the fertileness of the Italian wit, did not only afford us the demonstration of his practice, but sought to enrich our minds with the contemplation therein, which he thought most precious. But with none, I remember, mine cars were at any time more laden, than when (either angered with slow payment, or moved with our learner-like admiration) he exercised his speech in the praise of his faculty.

He said, soldiers were the noblest estate of mankind, and horsemen the noblest of soldiers. He said, they were the masters of war and ornaments of peace, speedy goers, and strong abiders, triumphers both in camps and courts; nay, to so unbelieved a point he proceeded, as that no earthly thing

1 Edward Wotton, elder brother of Sir Henry Wotton. He was knighted by Elizabeth in 1592, and made Comptroller of her Household. Observe the playfulness in Sidney's opening and close of a treatise written throughout in plain, manly English without Euphuism, and strictly reasoned.

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bred such wonder to a prince, as to be a good horseman; skill of government was but a pedanteria" in comparison. Then would he add certain praises by telling what a peerless beast the horse was, the only serviceable courtier, without flattery, the beast of most beauty, faithfulness, courage, and such more, that if I had not been a piece of a logician before I came to him, I think he would have persuaded me to have wished myself a horse. But thus much, at least, with his no few words, he drove into me, that self love is better than any gilding, to make that seem gorgeous wherein ourselves be parties.

Wherein, if Pugliano's strong affection and weak arguments will not satisfy you, I will give you a nearer example of myself, who, I know not by what mischance, in these my not old years and idlest times, having slipped into the title of a poet, am provoked to say something unto you in the defence of that my unelected vocation; which if I handle with more good will than good reasons, bear with me, since the scholar is to be pardoned that followeth the steps of his master.

And yet I must say, that as I have more just cause to make a pitiful defence of poor poetry, which, from almost the highest estimation of learning, is fallen to be the laughingstock of children; so have I need to bring some more available proofs, since the former is by no man barred of his deserved credit, whereas the silly latter hath had even the names of philosophers used to the defacing of it, with great danger of civil war among the Muses.2

At first, truly, to all them that, professing learning, inveigh against poetry, may justly be objected, that they go very near to ungratefulness to seek to deface that which, in the noblest nations and languages that are known, hath been the first light-giver to ignorance, and first nurse, whose milk by little and little enabled them to feed afterwards of tougher knowledges. And will you play the hedge-hog, that being received into the den, drove out his host or rather the vipers, that with their birth kill their parents?4

Let learned Greece, in any of her manifold sciences, be able to show me one book before Musæus, Homer, and Hesiod, all three nothing else but poets. Nay, let any history be brought that can say any writers were there before them, if they were not men of the same skill, as Orpheus, Linus, and some others are named, who having been the first of that country that made pens deliverers of their knowledge to posterity, may justly challenge to be called their fathers in learning. For not only in time they had this priority (although in itself antiquity be venerable) but went before them as causes to draw with their charming sweetness the wild untamed wits to an admiration of knowledge. So as Amphion was said to move stones with his poetry to build Thebes, and Orpheus to be listened to by beasts, indeed, stony and beastly people, so among the Romans were Livius Andronicus, and Ennius; so in the Italian language, the first that made it to aspire to be a treasure-house of science, were the poets Dante, Boccace, and Petrarch; so in our English were Gower and Chaucer; after whom, encouraged and delighted with their excellent foregoing, others have followed to beautify our mother tongue, as well in the same kind as other arts.

5 This did so notably show itself that the philosophers of 2 Here the introduction ends, and the argument begins with its § 1. Poetry the first Light-giver.

3 A fable from the " 'Hetamythium" of Laurentius Abstemius, Professor of Belles Lettres at Urbino, and Librarian to Duke Guido Ubaldo under the Pontificate of Alexander VI. (1492-1503).

Pliny says ("Nat. Hist.", lib. xi., cap. 62) that the young vipers, impatient to be born, break through the side of their mother, and so kill her.

5 § 2. Borrowed from by Philosophers.

Greece durst not a long time appear to the world but under the mask of poets; so Thales, Empedocles, and Parmenides sang their natural philosophy in verses; so did Pythagoras and Phocylides their moral counsels; so did Tyrtæus in war matters; and Solon in matters of policy; or rather they, being poets, did exercise their delightful vein in those points of highest knowledge, which before them lay hidden to the world; for that wise Solon was directly a poet it is manifest, having written in verse the notable fable of the Atlantic Island, which was continued by Plato. And, truly, even Plato, whosoever well considereth shall find that in the body of his work, though the inside and strength were philosophy, the skin, as it were, and beauty depended most of poetry. For all stands upon dialogues; wherein he feigns many honest burgesses of Athens speaking of such matters that if they had been set on the rack they would never have confessed them; besides, his poetical describing the circumstances of their meetings, as the well-ordering of a banquet, the delicacy of a walk, with interlacing mere tales, as Gyges's Ring, and others; which, who knows not to be flowers of poetry, did never walk into Apollo's garden.

3 And even historiographers, although their lips sound of things done, and verity be written in their foreheads, have been glad to borrow both fashion and, perchance, weight of the poets; so Herodotus entitled the books of his history by the names of the Nine Muses; and both he, and all the rest that followed him, either stole or usurped, of poetry, their passionate describing of passions, the many particularities of battles which no man could affirm; or, if that be denied me, long orations, put in the mouths of great kings and captains, which it is certain they never pronounced.

So that, truly, neither philosopher nor historiographer could, at the first, have entered into the gates of popular judgments, if they had not taken a great disport of poetry; which in all nations, at this day, where learning flourisheth not, is plain to be seen; in all which they have some feeling of poetry. In Turkey, besides their lawgiving divines they have no other writers but poets. In our neighbour-country Ireland, where, too, learning goes very bare, yet are their poets held in a devout reverence. Even among the most barbarous and simple Indians, where no writing is, yet have they their poets who make and sing songs, which they call "Arentos,” both of their ancestor's deeds and praises of their gods.

A sufficient probability, that if ever learning comes among them, it must be by having their hard dull wits softened and sharpened with the sweet delight of poetry; for until they find a pleasure in the exercise of the mind, great promises of much knowledge will little persuade them that know not the fruits of knowledge. In Wales, the true remnant of the ancient Britons, as there are good authorities to show the long time they had poets, which they called bards, so through all the conquests of Romans, Saxons, Danes, and Normans, some of whom did seek to ruin all memory of learning from among them, yet do their poets, even to this

1 Timæus, the Pythagorean philosopher of Locri, and the Athenian Critias are represented by Plato as having listened to the discourse of Socrates on a Republic. Socrates calls on them to show such a state in action. Critias will tell of the rescue of Europe by the ancient citizens of Attica, 10,000 years before, from an inroad of countless invaders who came from the vast island of Atlantis, in the Western Ocean; a struggle of which record was preserved in the temple of Naith or Athené at Sais, in Egypt, and handed down, through Solon, by family tradition to Critias. But first Timæus agrees to expound the structure of the universe; then Critias, in a piece left unfinished by Plato, proceeds to show an ideal society in action against pressure of a danger that seems irresistible.

2 Plato's "Republic," book ii.

3 § 3. Borrowed from by Historians.

day, last; so as it is not more notable in the soon beginning than in long-continuing.

But since the authors of most of our sciences were the Romans, and before them the Greeks, let us, a little, stand upon their authorities; but even so far, as to see what names they have given unto this now scorned skill. Among the Romans a poet was called "vates," which is as much as a diviner, foreseer, or prophet, as by his conjoined words "vaticinium," and "vaticinari," is manifest; so heavenly a title did that excellent people bestow upon this heart-ravishing knowledge! And so far were they carried into the admiration thereof, that they thought in the changeable hitting upon any such verses, great foretokens of their following fortunes were placed. Whereupon grew the word of sortes Virgiliana; when, by sudden opening Virgil's book, they lighted upon some verse, as it is reported by many, whereof the histories of the Emperors' lives are full. As of Albinus, the governor of our island, who, in his childhood, met with this verse

Arma amens capio, nec sat rationis in armis ;

and in his age performed it. Although it were a very vain and godless superstition; as also it was, to think spirits were commanded by such verses; whereupon this word charms, derived of "carmina," cometh, so yet serveth it to show the great reverence those wits were held in; and altogether not without ground, since both the oracles of Delphi and the Sibyl's prophecies were wholly delivered in verses; for that same exquisite observing of number and measure in the words, and that high-flying liberty of conceit proper to the poet, did seem to have some divine force in it.

And may not I presume a little farther to show the reasonableness of this word "vates," and say, that the holy David's Psalms are a divine poem? If I do, I shall not do it without the testimony of great learned men, both ancient and modern. But even the name of Psalms will speak for me, which, being interpreted, is nothing but Songs; then, that is fully written in metre, as all learned Hebricians agree, although the rules be not yet fully found. Lastly, and principally, his handling his prophecy, which is merely poetical. For what else is the awaking his musical instruments; the often and free changing of persons; his notable prosopopoeias, when he maketh you, as it were, see God coming in His majesty; his telling of the beasts' joyfulness, and hills leaping; but a heavenly poesy, wherein, almost, he sheweth himself a passionate lover of that unspeakable and everlasting beauty, to be seen by the eyes of the mind, only cleared by faith? But truly, now, having named him, I fear I seem to profane that holy name, applying it to poetry, which is, among us, thrown down to so ridiculous an estimation. But they that, with quiet judgments, will look a little deeper into it, shall find the end and working of it such, as, being rightly applied, deserveth not to be scourged out of the church of God.

But now let us see how the Greeks have named it, and how they deemed of it. The Greeks named him onτhy, which name hath, as the most excellent, gone through other languages; it cometh of this word rotely, which is to make; wherein, I know not whether by luck or wisdom, we Englishmen have met with the Greeks in calling him "a maker," which name, how high and incomparable a title it is, I had rather were known by marking the scope of other sciences, than by any partial allegation. There is no art delivered unto mankind that hath not the works of nature for his

§ 4. Honoured by the Romans as Sacred and Prophetic.

5 § 5. And really sacred and prophetic in the Psalms of David.

6 § 6. By the Greeks, Poets were honoured with the name of Makers.