298 
The Pliik sophy of Contemporary Criticism. 
deserve, perhaps, almost an equal share 
of the public attention) we cannot so 
easily acknowledge ourselves converts 
to his opinion of Dryden’s merit.* 
However, 44 quot homines , tot senten¬ 
tial and as we lay no claim to lite¬ 
rary infallibility, (in this respect differ¬ 
ing from most contemporary critics) 
we are willing to confess that, forming 
our judgment, as we have done, from 
the subjecta materia , from the extracts 
before us, we are (cateris paribus ,) far 
more likely to be in error, than a per¬ 
son with the author’s complete works 
upon his table. 
Article fourth , presents an account, 
with a few extracts, from 44 A small 
Treatise betwixt Arnalte and Lu- 
c%DA ;” a little tract, whose princi¬ 
pal^ if not only merit, is its extreme 
ramy. It may perhaps be necessary 
to throw a sop to readers of all classes ; 
and the 44 wandering vice-president of 
the Roxburghers”t (a constant reader 
by the way, and it is not improbable, 
si fames credits , a contributor to the 
Retrospective) from whose singular 
tome we made such copious extracts iu 
our last supplement, will probably set 
more value by this, than by the other 
more entertaining and more popular 
articles. A few spirited lines occur, 
and only a few; and these have been 
transplanted into the pages of the Re¬ 
view. 
The subject of the fifth article is the 
44 Schole of Skooti'nge,” a produc¬ 
tion of that delightful author, Roger 
Ascliam ; the tutor of Queen Elizabeth 
and of Lady Jane Grey, and the friend 
of Lord Burleigh, Lord Walsingham, 
and all, or nearly all, the illustrious 
characters of that interesting period. 
He was one of the first founders of a 
true English style of prose composition, 
and one of the most respectable and 
useful of our scholars. He was amongst 
the first (o reject the use of foreign 
words and idioms ; a fashion, which in 
the reign of Henry the Eighth had be¬ 
come very prevalent; so that the au¬ 
thors of that day, by 44 usiuge straunge 
wordes, as Latino, Frenche, and Ita¬ 
lian, did make all the thinges darke 
and harde.’ 1 But Ascham’s mind was 
too patriotic to think that his native 
tongue could be improved by this un¬ 
natural admixture of foreign phrases ; 
for, as he expressed it, if you put 
* His excellence is well and elegamiv 
charactered in a beautiful passage, r>. 55 
57. 
p Rev. T. F. Dibdin, see his Tour. 
[Nov. ], 
malvesye and sacke, redde wyne and 
white, ale and beere, and al into one 
pot, you shall make adrinke not easie 
to be knowen nor yet holsome for the 
bodye.” As a scholar he was acute, 
learned, and laborious; attached to 
literature from his earliest years, 
pursuing it with honour to himself, and 
with benefit to posterity, to the terrni 
nation of his life. 
There are many books, both in prose 
and poetry, which cannot be considered 
as worth reprinting, but which yet 
contain much that is worth preserva¬ 
tion, which are not likely to he read, 
but the reading of which would be very 
profitable. Of this class—a class in a 
particular manner deserving the atten¬ 
tion of a Retrospective Reviewer, whom 
we would have 
--Apis matinee 
More modoque 
Grata carpentem Thyma per laborem 
Plurimum. 
is the Tragedy of King John and 
Matilda. This poem is characterized 
as having its absurdities, and perhaps 
more than usual share of wildness, and 
uncouthness; but passages and scenes 
occur, which the Reviewer has been 
careful to extract, of great beauty; 
passages well worthy the attention of 
the reader. It is stated in the dedica¬ 
tion to have passed the stage with ge¬ 
neral applause, though, as Andrew 
Pennycuicke, the publisher, states, it 
does not appear in its ancient and full 
glory ; a piece of information for which 
the Reviewer gives him implicit credit, 
and he deserves it, for in truth the 
text is exceedingly corrupt. The Re¬ 
viewer has hazarded a few emendations, 
and expresses his opinion that several 
defects observable in the metre, are to 
be ascribed to the said Andrew, and 
not to the author. 
The seventh , one of the finest arti¬ 
cles in the present number, is an ac¬ 
count of thepolilical works of Andrew 
Fletcher. We have heard it attri¬ 
buted to Hazlitt; but we think it, 
though quite as forcible, yet more mo¬ 
derate and (absit invidia) more scholar- 
like and gentlemanly, than that popular 
authors usual style of writing. Be he, 
however, who he will, it is quite evi¬ 
dent, as sturdv old Samuel Johnson used 
to say, that 41 the dog is a whig;” or, 
at all events, that he is no lory. Andrew 
Fletcher, of Saltoun, M.P. for the 
county of Lothian, was a steady and 
ardent rather than a discreet patriot. 
He was a steady assertor of the liber- 
