Soon shall the Warrior's blood-stain'd laurels fade,
And wither, sapless, in the tomb's cold shade;
E'en Learning's self, immur'd in cloisters damp,
Soon droops and sickens o'er her waning lamp;
But the true Christian asks no shrine or bust,
God guards his fame, and sanctifies his dust :-
Ambition faints, o'er slaughter'd thousands driv'n,
Genius must die, if uninspir'd by heav'n.
But he who bows beneath th' Almighty's rod,
And walks, like Enoch, with great Nature's God,
Shall live for ever!-though no trophies wave,
Steep'd in the tears of millions o'er his grave :—
For him no home can boast earth's transient hour,
No charm breathe beauty, and no magic pow'r.
Far from this globe with seraph speed he springs,
Safe from the smile, or bigot frown of kings,
Like Taylor, earnest but in faith and pray'r,
For Heav'n alone he sighs-and dwells a Martyr
there!

THE

LIFE OF THOMAS TUSSER,

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

Of Thomas Tusser, one of our earliest didactic poets, and who has been styled the British Varro, few particulars are known, beyond what he has himself recorded in his own poetical life, which is the chief source from whence biographers have drawn their supplies.

He was born about the year 1515, at Rivenhall, near Witham in Essex, of an ancient family, and was first placed as a chorister in the collegiate chapel of

the castle of Wallingford; then impressed into the
King's chapel, from whence he was admitted into
the choir of St. Paul's Cathedral; and completed his
education at Eton, King's College, and Trinity Hall,
Cambridge. From hence he was called up to court by
his patron, William Lord Paget; but at the end of
about ten years,
he exchanged the life of a courtier
for that of a farmer, and settled at Katwade, now
Cattiwade, a hamlet of the parish of Brantham, in
the hundred of Samford, near the river Stour. Here
he composed his book of husbandry, the first edition
of which was published in 1557. It is probable that
he must have been acquainted with rural affairs for
several years at least before he could produce the rude
essay, which forms the germ of his future, and more
elaborate work. He appears to have suffered some
reverse in his farming business, as we find him after-
wards successively at Ipswich, where his wife died, at
West Dereham, and at Norwich. He married, how-
ever, a second wife of the name of Amy Moon, which
affords him a play of words; but this match did not
add to his happiness, apparently from a disparity in
age, she being very young. He then obtained a
singing-man's place in the cathedral of Norwich.
After this he tried farming again, at Fairsted,
near his native place; but again failing, he re-
paired to London, which he mentions with due
commendation, until being driven from it by the
plague in 1574, he went to Cambridge. When
this scourge abated, he returned to London, and
died there, about 1580, and was interred in St.
Mildred's Church in the Poultry, with the following
epitaph, which is recorded by Stow;

Here Thomas Tusser, clad in earth, doth lie,
Who sometime made the Points of Husbandry:
By him then learn thou may'st, here learn we must,
When all is done, we sleep, and turn to dust:
And yet, through Christ, to heaven we hope to go,
Who reads his books, shall find his faith was so.

For an author the vicissitudes of his life present

an uncommon variety of incident.

Without a tinc

ture of careless imprudence, or vicious extravagance, this desultory character seems to have thrived in no vocation. Fuller quaintly observes, that his stone, which gathered no moss, was the stone of Sisyphus; and in Peacham's Minerva, a book of Emblems printed in 1612, there is a device of a whetstone and a scythe, with these lines:

They tell me, Tusser, when thou wert alive,
And hadst for profit turned every stone,
Where'er thou camest, thou couldst never thrive,
Though hereto best couldst counsel every one,
As it may in thy HUSBANDRY appear,
Wherein afresh thou liv'st among us here
So, like thyself, a number more are wont

To sharpen others with advice of wit,

When they themselves are like the whetstone blunt.

In Tusser's production may be traced the popular stanza, which attained to such celebrity in the pastoral ballads of Shenstone.

His work seems to have obtained a very favorable reception, as more than twelve editions appeared within the first fifty years, and afterwards many others were printed, The best editions are those of 1580, and 1585, but they are very scarce. In 1812, the public was favored with a new edition in 8vo. carefully collated and corrected by Dr. Mavor, which is rendered highly valuable by a biographical memoir; a series of notes, georgical, illustrative, and explanatory; a glossary; and other improve◄

ments.

Now, gentle friend, if thou be kind,
Disdain thou not, although the lot,
Will now with me, no better be,

Than doth appear:

Nor let it grieve, that thus I live,
But rather guess, for quietness,
As others do, so do I too,

Content me here.

By leave and love of God above,
I mind to shew, in verses few,

How through the briers, my youthful years,

Have run their race;

And further say, why thus I stay

And mind to live, as bee in hive,
Full bent to spend my life t'an end,
In this same place.*

It came to pass, that born I was,
Of lineage good, of gentle blood,
In Essex layer, in village fair,
That Rivenhall hight:

Which village ly'd, by Banktree side;
There spend did I mine infancy,

There then my name, in honest fame,
Remain'd in sight.

I yet but young, no speech of tongue,
Nor tears withall, that often fall,

From mother's eyes, when child outcries,
To part her fro,

Could pity make, good father take,
But out I must, to song be thrust,

Say what I would, do what I could,
His mind was so.

O painfull time, for every crime !

What touzed ears, like baited bears!

What bobbed lips, what jerks, what nips!

What hellish toys!

What robes how bare, what college fare! What bread how stale, what penny ale! Then Wallingford, how wert thou abhor'd, Of seely boys!

• London.

Then for my voice, I must (no choice)
Away of force, like posting horse,
For sundry men had placards then,
Such child to take:

The better breast, the lesser rest,

To serve the choir, now there, now here;
For time so spent, I may repent,

And sorrow make.

But mark the chance, myself to 'vance,
By friendship's lot, to Paul's I got;
So found I grace, a certain space

Still to remain :

With Redford§ there, the like no where,
For cunning such, and virtue much,
By whom some part, of musick art,
So did I gain.

From Paul's I went, to Eton sent,

To learn straightways, the Latin phrase,
Where fifty-three stripes, given to me,
At once I had,

For fault but small, or none at all,

It came to pass, thus beat I was:
See, Udall, see, the mercy of thee,
To me, poor lad.

*In Strype is preserved the abstract of an instrument, from which it appears that commissioners were dispatched into various parts of England to impress boys from any choir for the King's chapel.

In singing, the sound is originally produced by the actions of the lungs, which are so essential an organ in this respect, that to have a good breast was formerly a common periphrasis to denote a good singer. In Shakespeare's Comedy of the Twelfth Night, after the clown is asked to sing, Sir Andrew Aguecheek says, " by my troth, the fool hath an excellent breast."

§ John Redford, organist and almoner of St. Paul's, an excellent musician.

Nicholas Udall, Head Master of Eton School.