with great ardor, applying himself with the utmost diligence to the instruction of others. In 1548, he was appointed instructor in the learned languages to the Lady Elizabeth, afterwards Queen; and, with the interval of three years, during which he travelled through Italy and Germany, he held offices at court during the reigns of Edward VI., Mary and Elizabeth. He died in 1568. When Queen Elizabeth heard the news of his death she exclaimed," she would rather have thrown ten thousand pounds into the sea than have lost her Ascham."]

When the great plague was at London, the year 1563, the Queen's Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, lay at her Castle of Windsor: whereupon, the 10th day of December, it fortuned that in Sir William Cecil's chamber, her Highness's Principal Secretary, there dined together these personages: Mr. Secretary himself, Sir William Peter, Sir I. Mason, Dr. Wotton, Sir Richard Sackville, Treasurer of the Exchequer, Sir Walter Mildmay, Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Haddon, Master of Requests, Mr. John Astley, Master of the Jewel House, Mr. Bernard Hampton, Mr. Nicasius, and I. Of which number, the most part were of her Majesty's most honorable Privy Council, and the rest serving her in very good place. I was glad then, and do rejoice yet to remember, that my chance was so happy, to be there that day, in the company of so many wise and good men together, as hardly there could have been picked out again, out of all England besides.

Mr. Secretary hath this accustomed manner, though his head be never so full of most weighty affairs of the realm, yet at dinnertime he doth seem to lay them always aside: and finding ever fit occasion to talk pleasantly of other matters, but most gladly of some matter of learning; wherein he will courteously hear the mind of the meanest at his table.

Not long after our sitting down, I have strange news brought me, saith Mr. Secretary, this morning, that divers scholars of Eton be run away from the school, for fear of beating. Whereupon Mr. Secretary took occasion to wish, that some more discretion were in many schoolmasters, in using correction, than commonly there is. Who many times punish rather the weakness of nature than the fault of the scholar. Whereby many scholars that might else prove well be driven to hate learning, before they know what learning meaneth; and so are made wil

ling to forsake their book, and be glad to be put to any other kind of living.

Mr. Peter, as one somewhat severe of nature, said plainly, that the rod only was the sword that must keep the school in obedience, and the scholar in good order. Mr. Wotton, a man of mild nature, with soft voice, and few words, inclined to Mr. Secretary's judgment, and said, in mine opinion the school-house should be in deed, as it is called by name, the house of play and pleasure, and not of fear and bondage; and as I do remember, so saith Socrates in one place of Plato. And therefore, if a rod carry the fear of a sword, it is no marvel if those that be fearful of nature choose rather to forsake the play, than to stand always within the fear of a sword in a fond man's handling. Mr. Mason, after his manner, was very merry with both parties, pleasantly playing, both with shrewd touches of many courste boys, and with the small discretion of many lewd schoolmasters. Mr. Haddon was fully of Mr. Peter's opinion, and said that the best schoolmaster of our time was the greatest beater, and named the person. Though, quoth I, it was his good fortune to send from his school unto the University one of the best scholars indeed of all our time, yet wise men do think that that came so to pass rather by the great towardness of the scholar, than by the great beating of the master; and whether this be true or no, you yourself are best witness. I said somewhat farther in the matter, how and why young children were sooner allured by love than driven by beating, to attain good learning; wherein I was the bolder to say my mind, because Mr. Secretary courteously provoked me thereunto; or else, in such a company, and namely in his presence, my wont is to be more willing to use mine ears than to occupy my tongue.

little;

Sir Walter Mildmay, Mr. Astley, and the rest said very only Sir Richard Sackville said nothing at all. After dinner I went up to read with the Queen's Majesty. We read then together in the Greek tongue, as I well remember, that noble oration of Demosthenes against Eschines, for his false dealing in his ambassage to King Philip of Macedonia. Sir Richard Sackville came up soon after, and finding me in her Majesty's privy chamber, he took me by the hand, and carrying me to a window, said,

Mr. Ascham, I would not, for a good deal of money, have been, this day, absent from dinner, where, though I said nothing, yet I gave as good ear, and do consider as well the talk that passed, as any one there. Mr. Secretary said, very wisely, and most truly, that many young wits be driven to hate learning, before they know what learning is. I can be good witness to this myself; for a fond schoolmaster, before I was fully fourteen years old, drove me so, with fear of beating, from all love of learning, as now, when I know what difference it is to have learning and to have little or none at all, I feel it my greatest grief, and find it my greatest hurt that ever came to me, that it was my so ill chance to light upon so lewd a schoolmaster. But seeing it is but in vain to lament things past, and also wisdom to look to things to come, surely, God willing, if God lend me life, I will make this, my mishap, some occasion of good hap to little Robert Sackville, my son's son. For whose bringing up I would gladly, if it so please you, use specially your good advice. I hear say you have a son much of his age: we will deal thus together. Point you out a schoolmaster, who, by your order, shall teach my son and yours, and for all the rest I will provide, yes, though they three do cost me a couple of hundred pounds by year and besides, you shall find me as fast a friend to you and yours, as perchance any you have. Which promise the worthy gentleman surely kept with me, until his dying day.

We had then further talk together of bringing up children; of the nature of quick and hard wits: of the right choice of a good wit of fear and love in teaching children. We passed from children and came to young men, namely, gentlemen; we talked of their too much liberty, to live as they lust of their letting loose too soon, to overmuch experience of ill, contrary to the good order of many old commonwealths of the Persians and Greeks of wit gathered, and good fortune gotten by some, only by experience, without learning. And lastly, he required of me very earnestly to show what I thought of the common going of Englishmen into Italy. But, saith he, because this place and this time will not suffer so long talk as these good matters require, therefore I pray you, at my request, and at your leisure, put in some order of writing the chief points of this our talk, concerning the right order

of teaching and honesty of living, for the good bringing up of children and young men. And surely, besides contenting me, you shall both please and profit very many others. I made some excuse by lack of ability, and weakness of body: Well, saith he, I am not now to learn what you can do. Our dear friend, good Mr. Goodricke, whose judgment I could well believe, did once for all, satisfy me fully therein. Again, I heard you say, not long ago, that you may thank Sir John Cheke for all the learning you have and I know very well myself that you did teach the Queen. And, therefore, seeing God did so bless you to make you the scholar of the best master, and also the schoolmaster of the best scholar, that ever were in our time, surely you should please God, benefit your country, and honor your own name, if you would take the pains to impart to others what you learned of such a master, and how ye taught such a scholar. And in uttering the stuff ye received of the one, in declaring the order ye took with the other, ye shall never lack neither matter nor manner what to write, nor how to write in this kind of argument.

I beginning some farther excuse, suddenly was called to come to the Queen. The night following, I slept little, my head was so full of this our former talk, and I so mindful somewhat to satisfy the honest request of so dear a friend, I thought to prepare some little treatise for a New Year's gift that Christmas; but as it chanceth to busy builders, so in building this my poor schoolhouse (the rather because the form of it is somewhat new and differing from others) the work rose daily higher and wider than I thought it would at the beginning.

And though it appear now, and be in very deed but a small cottage, poor for the stuff, and rude for the workmanship, yet in going forward, I found the site so good as I was loath to give it over, but the making so costly outreaching my ability, as many times I wished that some one of those three, my dear friends with full purses, Sir Thomas Smith, Mr. Haddon, or Mr. Watson, had had the doing of it. Yet, nevertheless, I myself spending gladly that little that I got at home by good Sir John Cheke, and that that I borrowed abroad of my friend Sturmius, besides somewhat that was left me in reversion by my old masters Plato, Aristotle and Cicero, I have at last patched it up as I could, and as you see.

108.-GARDENS.

JESSE.

[MR. EDWARD JESSE, "Surveyor of her Majesty's Parks, Palaces," &c., is the author of several volumes which have had a deserved popularity, as the faithful observations of an intelligent and reflective mind upon the common appearances of Nature, the more interesting from their familiarity. Mr. Jesse appears to have taken for his model White, of Selborne. The volume from which we extract the following passage, entitled "Scenes and Tales of Country Life," was published in 1844.]

At

The love of gardens and of gardening appears to be almost exclusively confined to the English, and is partaken of by the poor as well as by the rich. Nothing can be prettier than the gardens attached to the thatched cottages in Devonshire. They are frequently to be seen on the side and oftener at the bottom of a hill, down which a narrow road leads to a rude single-arched stone bridge. Here a shallow stream may be seen flowing rapidly, and which now and then stickles, to use a Devonshire phrase, over a pavement of either pebbles or rag-stone. A little rill descends by the side of the lane, and close to the hedge of the cottage, which is approached by a broad stepping-stone over the rill, and beyond it is a gate made of rough sticks, which leads to the cottage. a short distance, an excavation has been cut out of the bank, and paved round with rough stones, into which the water finds and then again makes its way clear and sparkling. This is the cottager's well. His garden is gay with flowers. His bees are placed on each side of a window surrounded with honeysuckles, jessamine, or a flourishing vine, and the rustic porch is covered with these or other creepers. Here, also, the gorgeous hollyhock may be seen in perfection, for it delights in the rich red soil of Devonshire. Giantstocks, carnations, and china-asters, flourish from the same cause, and make the garden appear as though it belonged to Flora herself.

Nor must the little orchard be forgotten. The apple-trees slope with the hill, and in the spring are covered with a profusion of the most beautiful blossom, and in the autumn are generally weighed down with their load of red fruit. Under them may be seen a