A History of English Prose Fiction

by Bayard Tuckerman

II.

It is to the drama that we must look for the most complete literary expression of the social condition of the period. The student of history must regret, indeed, that the realistic novel, with its study of human thoughts and motives, with its illustration of manners and customs, so valuable in a reconstruction of the past, should have been delayed till the end of the seventeenth century. But though there be regret, there cannot be surprise. The reigns of Elizabeth and the Stuarts cover the period of court life; when men lived in public, and sought their intellectual entertainment in crowds at a theatre, as now, in a time of citizen-life, they seek it in private, by the study-lamp.[57] In a dramatic age the creations of the imagination will be placed behind the footlights, and in a period of quiet and reflection they will be placed between the covers of a book. In the age of Elizabeth the writers of fiction neither studied the characters and manners of the men about them, nor aimed at any reflection of actual life. But their tales and romances were the natural fruit of their intellectual condition, and form an interesting if not a valuable portion of English fiction. In them are reflected the happiness, the poetry, the love of novelty, and the ideality of the time. The stirring incidents of chivalric romance were no longer in vogue, and the subject became an idealized love. But the most striking feature of Elizabethan fiction is the great importance attached to style. The writer cared more to excite admiration by the turn of his phrases and the ornaments of his language, than to interest his reader by plot or incident.

In 1579 John Lyly published his curious romance, "Euphues, the Anatomy of Wit," a work which attained a great popularity, and made the word Euphuism an abstract term in the language to express the ornate and antithetical style of which this book is the most marked example. In Lyly's own day it was said by Edward Blount that the nation was "in his debt for a new English which hee taught them." Since then, the verdict of posterity has been that Lyly corrupted the public taste, and introduced an affected and overloaded manner of writing which had a mischievous influence upon literature. A careful examination of Lyly's work, and of the condition of the English language in the last quarter of the sixteenth century, will not sustain either of these views. The Euphuistic style was not of Lyly's invention. He acquired it from the men about him, and merely gave it, through his writings, a distinct character and individuality. In a letter of Elizabeth to her brother Edward VI, long-before "Euphues" was written, occurs the following passage: "Like as a shipman in stormy wether plukes down the sails tarrying for bettar winde, so did I, most noble kinge, in my unfortunate chanche a Thursday pluk downe the hie sailes of my joy and comforte, and do trust one day that as troublesome waves have repulsed me backwarde, so a gentil winde will bringe me forwarde to my haven."[58] This is a moderate specimen of the ornate and exaggerated language which was following the new acquisitions of learning and intelligence, just as extravagance in dress and food was following the new prosperity and wealth. Men wished to crowd their learning and cultivation into every thing they said or wrote. As the language was not yet settled by good prose writers, the more affected a style, the more numerous its similes, and far-fetched its allusions, the more ingenious and admirable it was considered to be. There resulted a sacrifice of clearness and simplicity to a strained elegance. Still, in the Euphuistic style, tedious and grotesque as it often is, appear the first serious efforts, among English prose writers, to attain a better mode of expression. The results which followed the absence of a standard written language at home were strengthened by the general acquaintance with foreign literature. Italy in the sixteenth century was the leading intellectual nation, and the example of the refined and over-polished manner of writing there prevalent had much to do with the growth in England of a fondness for affected mannerisms and fancied ornaments of language. The new ideas in regard to poetry and versification which Wyat and Surrey had brought from Italy, were but the beginning of an extensive Italian influence. It was not without reason that Ascham inveighed against "the enchantments of Circe brought out of Italy to mar men's manners in England." Italian works were translated and circulated in great numbers in England, and among these the most popular were the gay and amorous productions of the story tellers.[59]

Born in Kent in 1554, John Lyly studied at Magdalen College, Oxford, and received the degree of Master of Arts. Not a very diligent scholar, he disliked the "crabbed studies" of logic and philosophy, "his genie being naturally bent to the pleasant paths of poetry," but he was reputed at the University as afterward at Elizabeth's court, "a rare poet, witty, comical, and facetious." During his life in London he produced a number of plays and poems which have given his name a not inconsiderable place in the list of Elizabethan poets and dramatists. He is now best known, where known at all, by his prose work "Euphues," which was so much admired at Elizabeth's court, that all the ladies knew his phrases by heart, and to "parley Euphuism" was a sign of breeding. For many years Lyly lingered about the court waiting for a promised position to reward his labors and support his declining years. But in vain. "A thousand hopes," he complained, "but all nothing; a hundred promises, but yet nothing." Lyly died in 1606, leaving, as he said, but three legacies; "Patience to my creditors, Melancholie without measure to my friends, and Beggarie without shame to my family."

The deeper meaning of Lyly's work, which lies beneath the surface of his similes and antitheses, has escaped almost all his critics.[60] It is suggested by the title, "Euphues, The Anatomy of Wit." In the "Schoolmaster," Ascham explained how Socrates had described the anatomy of wit in a child, and the first essential quality mentioned by Socrates, and that most fully discussed by Ascham was Ευψυης which may be translated of good natural parts, as well of the body as the mind. Euphues, then, as well in the story in which he figures, as afterward in the essays or which he is the supposed author, is the model of a young man at once attractive in appearance, and possessing the mental qualities most calculated to please. While the story is meant to attract readers, the essays and digressions introduced into the work are intended to inculcate the methods of education which Lyly taught in common with Ascham. It was, however, the manner rather than the matter which gave to "Euphues" its prominence and popularity. The story is but a slender thread. Euphues and Philautus are two young gentlemen of Naples, bound together by the closest ties of friendship. Philautus is deeply enamored of a lady named Lucilla, to whom in an unfortunate moment he presents Euphues. The meeting is at supper, and the conversation turns on the question "often disputed, but never determined, whether the qualities of the minde, or the composition of the man, cause women most to lyke, or whether beautie or wit move men most to love." Euphues shows so much ingenuity in the discussion of this interesting subject that Lucilla transfers her affections to him. Upon this the two friends quarrel and exchange letters of mutual recrimination couched in the most elaborate language. Philautus writes:

Although hereto Euphues, I have shrined thee in my heart for a trustie friende, I will shunne thee hereafter as a trothless foe. * * * Dost thou not know yat a perfect friend should be lyke the Glazeworme, which shineth most bright in the darke? or lyke the pure Frankencense which smelleth most sweet when it is in the fire? or at the leaste not unlike to the damaske Rose which is sweeter in the still than on the stalke? But thou, Euphues, dost rather resemble the Swallow, which in the summer creepeth under the eues of euery house, and in the winter leaveth nothing but durt behinde hir; or the humble Bee, which hauing sucked hunny out of the fayre flower, doth leaue it and loath it; or the Spider which in the finest web doth hang the fayrest Fly.

To these bitter reproaches Euphues replies that "Love knoweth no Lawes," and in support of the proposition cites as many cases from mythology as he can remember. The faithless Lucilla, however, soon treats Euphues as she had before treated Philautus, and marries a third lover whom they both despise. The friends are then once more united, and lament in each other's arms the folly of Lucilla. A second part of the work appeared in the following year, in which Euphues and Philautus are represented on a visit to England. Philautus marries, and Euphues, after eulogizing the English government, Elizabeth, and all her court, retires forever "to the bottom of the mountain Silexedra."

The educational essays dispersed throughout the book display a good sense which even Lyly's style cannot conceal. Ascham and Lyly were alone in deprecating the excessive use of the rod, and in so doing were far in advance of the age. Cruelty seems to have been a common characteristic of the school-teacher. "I knew one," said Peacham, "who in winter would ordinarily in a cold morning whip his boyes over for no other purpose than to get himself a heat; another beat them for swearing, and all the time he swears himself with horrible oathes that he would forgive any fault save that. * * * Yet these are they that oftentimes have our hopefull gentry under their charge and tuition, to bring them (up) in science and civility."[61]

The style which proved so attractive to Elizabeth's courtiers had three principal characteristics, which the reader will perceive in the extracts hereafter to be given—a pedantic exhibition of learning, an excess of similes drawn from natural history, usually untrue to nature, and a habit of antithesis, which, by constant repetition becomes exceedingly wearisome. Euphues, wishing to convince his listeners of the inferiority of outward to inward perfection, pursues the following argument:

The foule Toade hath a fayre stone in his head, the fine golde is found in the filthy earth; the sweet kernell lyeth in the hard shell; vertue is harboured in the heart of him that most men esteeme misshappen. Contrarywise, if we respect more the outward shape, then the inward habit, good God, into how many mischiefs do wee fall? into what blindnesse are we ledde? Due we not commonly see that in painted pottes is hidden the deadlyest poyson? that in the greenest grasse is ye greatest serpent? in the cleerest water the vgliest Toade? Doth not experience teach vs, that in the most curious sepulcher are enclosed rotten bones? That the Cypresse tree beareth a faire leafe, but no fruite? That the Estridge carrieth faire feathers, but ranke flesh? How frantick are those louers which are carried away with the gaye glistering of the fine face?

"In the coldest flint," says Lucilla, "there is hot fire, the Bee that hath hunny in hir mouth, hath a sting in hir tayle; the tree that beareth the sweetest fruite, hath a sower sap; yea, the wordes of men though they seeme smooth as oyle: yet their heartes are as crooked as the stalke of luie."