THIRD PERIOD, (1558-1625.) ELIZABETH AND JAMES. THE most brilliant perfod in the history of English literature is the latter portion of the reign of Queen Elizabeth and the reign of her successor, James. A variety of causes operated in awakening and expanding the national intellect. The invention of printing; the study of classical literature; the freedom with which, since the Reformation, questions of theology and belief were discussed; the general substitution of the philosophy of Plato for that of Aristotle; the number of translations from French and Italian literature; and the dissemination of the Scriptures in the English language, may be considered as aiding powerfully in the universal development. The policy of Elizabeth was an English policy. From the first, she abjured foreign ties and adopted the Protestant interest. Her first act was to order the liturgy to be read in English. A sentiment of chivalry pervaded the land-high thoughts seated in a heart of courtesy,' as defined by Sir Philip Sidney, himself a mirror of courtesy and chivalrous honour; and this feeling was elevated by the splendour of a female court, and the interest attaching to a maiden queen. There was also the spirit of mercantile enterprise and adventurous" curiosity, which had been excited by the discovery, in the previous century, of America and the West Indies. Our seamen had ceased to feel alarm for what the poet calls the stormy spirit of the Cape;' the passage by the Cape of Good Hope had become a highway; the East India Company was chartered and enfranchised; Drake and Cavendish had circumnavigated the globe; Hawkins had sailed to Brazil and Guinea: the tall ships of London and Bristol were seen in all seas. Voyages of discovery were resorted to as one of the most fashionable and honourable occupations of the active young nobles and gentry of the day. A passion for travelling to foreign countries, and witnessing the marvellous sights believed to abound in those faroff islands of the sun, ran even to extravagance. The period altogether, was one of action; of earnest, resolute, fearless men. If danger were to be encountered, there were willing hearts and hands; if a new land was to be explored, there were men ready to encounter (146) the trials and fatigue; if gold was to be had, no enterprise was so hazardous as to deter men from the search; if even a tournament or masque were to be performed, it was got up on a scale of splendour and magnificence. The drama became a great intellectual arena, in which literary genius put forth its highest powers. In that age there might be avarice, cupidity, cruelty in war, and plotting in peace; but there was no weakness in its public men. In action and in study, it was an age of giants. THOMAS SACKVILLE. In the reign of Elizabeth, some poetical names of importance precede that of Spencer. The first is THOMAS SACKVILLE, LORD BUCKHURST (1527-1608), ultimately Earl of Dorset and Lord High-treasurer of England, and who will again come before us in the character of a dramatic writer. Before he was so actively engaged in public life, Sackville is said to have planned, towards the end of the reign of Queen Mary, the design of the Mirrour for Magistrates,' a work that was to consist of a series of legends derived from English history. All the most illustrious persons in our annals who had experienced reverses of fortune were to pass in review before the reader, each telling his own story, as a warning or mirror to statesmen and rulers. The first edition of the work was published in 1559, the authors being Richard Baldwin and George Ferrers. A second edition appeared in 1563, and to this Sackville contributed his ' Induction and Complaint of the Duke of Buckingham.' The 'Mirrour' was afterwards continued by Phayer, Higgins, Churchyard, and other writers: but wanting the genius of Sackville, it fell into oblivion, and the only part worthy of preservation was the 'Induction and Complaint' of the original noble author of the design. The 'Induction' is a remarkable poem for the age in which it was produced; it not only forms a link, as Mr. Hallam remarks, which unites the school of Chaucer and Lydgate to the Faery Queen,' but its portraits of gloom and sorrow exhibit a strength of description and a power of drawing allegorical characters scarcely inferior to Spenser. Allegorical Characters from the Mirrour for Magistrates. And first, within the porch and jaws of hell, With thoughtful care; as she that, all in vain, Her eyes unsteadfast, rolling here and there, Whirled on each place, as place that vengeance brought, Tost and tormented with the tedious thought Of those detested crimes which she had wrought; 1 Never stopped. With dreadful cheer, and looks thrown to the sky, Next, saw we Dread, all trembling how he shook, And, next, within the entry of this lake, His face was lean, and some-deal pined away, His food, for most, was wild fruits of the tree, Whose wretched state when we had well beheld, The morrow gray no sooner hath begun By him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of Death, 1 Astonished. 2 Companions. A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath; The body's rest, the quiet of the heart, And next in order sad, Old Age we found: There heard we him with broken and hollow plaint But, an the cruel fates so fixed be That time forepast cannot return again, That, in such withered plight, and wretched pain, And not so soon descend into the pit; Where Death, when he the mortal corpse hath slain, The gladsome light, but, in the ground ylain, But who had seen him sobbing how he stood His youth forepast-as though it wrought him good He would have mused, and marvelled much whereon Crook-backed he was, tooth-shaken, and blear-eyed; 1 Pilled or peeled, stripped bare. And fast by him pale Malady was placed: But, oh, the doleful sight that then we see! Whereto was left nought but the case alone. And that, alas! was gnawen every where, Great was her force, whom stone-wall could not stay: Be satisfied fr m hunger of her maw, But eats herself as she that hath no law; Where you may count each sinew, bone, and vein. On her while we thus firmly fixed our eyes, And, by and by, a dumb dead corpse we saw, His dart, anon. out of the corpse he took, Lastly, stood War, in glittering arms yclad, He razed towns, and threw down towers and all: |