was sure to procure him the frequent visits of the neighboring prelates and clergy. On one occasion, being in company with a popish divine, he argued so conclusively in favor of a vernacular translation of the Bible, that the divine, unable to answer him, exclaimed, "We had better be without God's law than the pope's." This fired the spirit of Tyndale, and he indignantly replied, "I defy the pope and all his laws; and if God gives me life, ere many years the ploughboys in England shall know more of the Scriptures than you do ;"—a pledge which he most nobly redeemed.

Finding that he could not accomplish his plans at home, Tyndale, in the year 1523, became a voluntary exile from his native land, which he was never more to revisit. He went to Antwerp, and there, with great assiduity prosecuted his design of translating the Scriptures into English. The New Testament was finished in 1526. It sold so rapidly that the following year another edition was published, and the year after another, each consisting of five thousand. Great numbers of these were imported into England and speedily sold, though the importers were prosecuted with great rigor.

His retreat at Antwerp was hidden for some time from those who had marked him for their prey. But at length, in 1534, he was betrayed by the spies employed by Henry VIII. and his council, and imprisoned. Every thing was done by the English merchants at Antwerp to release him, and one by the name of Thomas Pointz, was so ardent in his cause that he went to England in person, to exert what influence he could in his favor. In the mean time the noble martyr was not inactive, but while in prison prepared another edition of the Testament, peculiarly adapted to the agricultural laborers, thus fulfilling his pledge that the "ploughboys" should have it for themselves.

But his invaluable life was now drawing to a close. The formalities of a trial were gone through; he was condemned for heresy; and in September, 1536, he was brought out of prison to suffer the dreadful sentence,-burning at the stake. In that appalling moment he exhibited the firmness and resignation only to be found in the certain confidence of having his portion with those "shining ones" (in Bunyan's phrase) who had come out of great tribulation, and who had

for Jesus' sake,

Writhed on the rack, or blackened at the stake.

While the horrid preparations of death and of burning were going on in full view around him, his last thoughts were turned upon the welfare of that country which had driven him forth a fugitive; and his dying voice was that of intercession for his royal persecutor. O Lord, open the King of Eng. land's eyes," were his well known words at the stake.

66

Rome thundered death, but Tyndale's dauntless eye,
Looked in death's face and smiled, death standing by.
In spite of Rome, for England's faith he stood,
And in the flames he sealed it with his blood.

It rests on indubitable evidence that Tyndale's voice was hardly hushed in death, before his last prayer was answered in a remarkable manner; for

that capricious tyrant soon issued an injunction, ordering that the Bible should be placed in every church for the free use of the people.

Tyndale's translation of the New Testament is admirable both for style and accuracy; and our present version has very closely followed it throughout. To use the words of a profound modern scholar,1 "It is astonishing how little obsolete the language of it is, even at this day; and, in point of perspicuity and noble simplicity, propriety of idiom, and purity of style, no English version has yet surpassed it." The following is a fair specimen of this translation.2

"And marke' A Certayne Lawere stode vp' and tempted hym sayinge: Master what shall I do' to inheret eternall lyfe? He sayd vnto him: What ys written in the lawe? Howe redest thou? And he answered and sayde: Thou shalt love thy lorde god' wyth all thy hert' and wyth all thy soule' and with all thy strengthe' and with all thy mynde: and thy neighbour as thy sylfe. And he sayd vnto hym: Thou hast answered right. This do and thou shalt live. He willynge to iustifie hym silfe' sayde vnto Jesus: Who ys then my neighbour.

"Jesus answered and sayde: A certayne man descended from Jerusalem into Jericho' And fell into the hondes off theves' whych robbed hym off his rayment and wonded hym' and departed levynge him halfe deed. And yt chaunsed that there cam a certayne preste that same waye' and sawe hym' and passed by. And lyke wyse a levite' when he was come neye to the place' went and loked on hym and passed by. Then a certayne Samaritane as he iornyed cam neye vnto hym and behelde hym and had compassion on hym and cam to hym and bounde vppe hys wondes and poured in wyne and oyle and layed him on his beaste and brought hym to a common hostry and 'drest him. And on the morowe when he departed he toke out two pence and gave them to the host and said vnto him. Take care of him and whatsoever thou spendest above this when I come agayne I will recompence the. Which nowe of these thre thynkest thou was neighbour unto him that fell into the theves hondes? And he answered: he that shewed mercy on hym. Then sayd Jesus vnto hym. Goo and do thou lyke wyse."

1 Dr. Geddes. 2 See a beautiful edition of Tyndale's Testament, by Rev. J. P. Dabney, with an interesting memoir, published at Andover, Mass. 3 Beholde. Among thieves. 5 Inne. • Made provision for him.

SIR THOMAS WYATT, 1503-1542.

SIR THOMAS WYATT, whose poems are generally published with those of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, as they were cotemporaries and warm personal friends, as well as among the first improvers of the English language, was born in Allington Castle in Kent, in 1503, and educated at Cambridge. He was early distinguished as a polite and elegant scholar, and was remarkable alike for his uncommon beauty of person; for his dexterity and address in arms; and for his superior attainments in all the softer arts of peace. To a critical knowledge of the ancient classics, he added the French, Italian, and Spanish, which he spoke with fluency and elegance. But what distinguished him most was, his reputation as a poet, and the charm of his conversation. His wit is said to have been inexhaustible, and his readiness at repartee such as astonished every one who heard him.

Possessed of these advantages, it was no wonder that Wyatt should ingratiate himself with the king, and become a very general favorite at court. He was sent on some important foreign missions, and acquitted himself with great honor. The last, however, proved fatal to him: for having been sent by the king to Falmouth to conduct the ambassador of the Emperor Charles V. to court, he rode too fast, took ill of a fever, and died in October, 1542, in the thirty-ninth year of his age.

He was a man in every respect entitled to more than common admiration; and he obtained the praise of uniting in his character things in themselves seemingly discordant; brilliant wit, and purity of thought; the ease of the courtier and the gravity of the Christian. But what distinguished him more than even his talents or the powers of his wit, was a certain generous contempt of vice, and an exalted love of virtue, which seems to have been the great bond of union between the noble hearted Surrey and himself. These were not with him qualities merely speculative; they were vital principles, perpetually pressing forward into action. "God and goodness," to use his own expression, "were ever the foundation of his conduct;" so that it was not possible to know him, and converse with him, without feeling the same magnanimous longing after moral excellence by which he himself was animated. Thus he ennobled learning, and rendered poetry and polite attainments honorable, by making them subservient to the cause of Virtue and Religion.

66 THE LOVER COMPLAINETH THE UNKINDNESS OF HIS LOVE.2

"My lute, awake! perform the last
Labour, that thou and I shall waste,

See the admirable edition of the Works of Surrey and Wyatt, by George F. Nott, D. D., two volumes, quarto, London, 1816.

2 This poem is of singular merit, and as Dr. Todd remarks, "is one of the most elegant amatory odes in our language." The lute corresponded nearly

And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,

My lute! be still, for I have done.

As to be heard where ear is none;
As lead, to grave in marble stone,'

My song may pierce her heart as soon:
Should we then sing, or sigh, or moan?
No, no, my lute! for I have done.

The rock doth not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,

As she my suit and affection;
So that I am past remedy;

Whereby my lute and I have done.

Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts, thorough Love's shot,

By whom, unkind, thou hast them won;
Think not he hath his bow forgot,

Although my lute and I have done.

Vengeance may fall on thy disdain,
That makest but game of earnest pain.
Trow not alone under the sun,
Unquit to cause thy lover's plain,
Although my lute and I have done.

May chance thee lie wither'd, and old,
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain unto the moon:
Thy wishes then dare not be told;

Care then who list! for I have done.

And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent,

To cause thy lover's sigh, and swoon:
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want, as I have done.

Now cease, my lute! this is the last
Labour, that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that I begun;

Now is this song both sung and past:
My lute! be still, for I have done.

to the modern guitar, and every person of good education played upon it. Tully excelled on it.

That is, it would be more easy for lead, which is the softest of metals, to engrave characters on hard marble, than it is for me to make impression on her obdurate heart. To grave--to make an impression upon.

THE LOVER PRAYETH NOT TO BE DISDAINED, REFUSED, MIS

TRUSTED, NOR FORSAKEN.

Disdain me not without desert,
Nor leave me not so suddenly;
Since well ye wot that in my heart
I mean ye not but honestly.

Refuse me not without cause why,
Nor think me not to be unjust;
Since that by lot of fantasy,

This careful knot needs knit I must.

Mistrust me not, though some there be,

That fain would spot my steadfastness.

Believe them not, since that ye see
The proof is not as they express.

Forsake me not, till I deserve,

Nor hate me not till I offend;
Destroy me not, till that I swerve;

But since ye know what I intend.'

Disdain me not, that am your own;
Refuse me not, that am so true;
Mistrust me not, till all be known;

Forsake me not now for no new.2

A DESCRIPTION OF SUCH A ONE AS HE WOULD LOVE.

A face that should content me wond'rous well,
Should not be fair,3 but lovely to behold;
With gladsome chere, all grief for to expell;
With sober looks so would I that it should

Speak without words, such words as none can tell ;
The tress also should be of crisped1 gold.

With wit, and these, might chance I might be tied,
And knit again the knot that should not slide.

1 Dr. Nott says that but in this line means "unless," without at all explaining its whole difficulty. But, in old writers, is used in the sense of without, and since or seethan as they spelled it, in the sense of seeing that, for which it is a contraction: the full meaning of this line, in connection with the other, I take to be, "Without you destroy me, seeing that or after that you know my honest intentions."

2 An ellipsis, for no new lover.

3 Fair" here means regularly beautiful. The sense is, "The face that is to captivate me must not be regularly beautiful, but one that has a lovely turn of expression."

"Crisped" means short curling ringlets, which were artificially produced by curling irons. Pope does not introduce these in his description of the toilet in the " Rape of the Lock."

"Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux."

We rather smile now at the taste for "golden" colored hair.