my children, that avoiding the precipices of pride, they walk in the pleasant meads of modesty ; that the sight of riches overcome them not; that they sigh not for the want of them in themselves, which is erroneously admired by others; that they think no better of themselves for being well dressed, nor worse for being otherwise; that they spoil not the beauty which nature gave them by neglect, nor endeavour to increase it by vile arts; that they esteem virtue the first and letters the second good; and that of these they deem those the best which can best teach them piety to God, charity to man, modesty and christian humility in their own deportment.

Thus shall they receive from the Almighty the reward of an innocent life, in the certain expectation of which they shall not fear death; and feeling true joy in this life, be neither puffed up with the vain praises of men, nor broken down by their malice. These I regard as the true and genuine fruits of learning; which, though they be not put forth by all the learned, yet, whoever studies with this view, I maintain may produce them in the highest perfection.

It matters not to the crop, whether man or woman sowed it; and if the name "Man," whose reason distinguishes his nature from the brute, applies to both sexes, I say science, by which that reason is cultivated, and like a field bears good corn under due tillage, equally becomes either. But if the soil in women be bad by nature, and more productive of weeds than corn (by which opinion many deter the sex from letters), I, on the other hand, think that female

genius ought on that very account to be the more diligently cultivated by letters and good discipline; in order that the evil of nature may, by industry, be corrected. So thought those wise and holy men, the Fathers: of whom, to omit the rest, Jerome and Augustine not only exhorted ladies of the highest rank and worth to the acquisition of letters, but, that they might the more easily accomplish it, diligently expounding to them abstruse passages in Scripture, and wrote long letters to young maidens with so much erudition that old men of our day and professors of divinity can scarcely read, so far are they from understanding them. Which works of holy men, my learned Gonellus, you will of your goodness take care that my daughters read. From them they may best know the scope which their learning ought to aim at; and they will teach them to esteem the consent of God, and a good conscience, the best fruit of their labours. Thus placid and tranquil in themselves, they will neither be elated by the praise of the flatterer, nor feel the rancour of the unlearned scoffer.

But I hear you exclaiming, that "these precepts, though true, are too hard for the tender age of my children; for who is there, however old or learned, with a mind so strong and well poised, that he has not the smallest inclination for glory?" My friend, the more difficult I see it to shake off this pest of pride, the more endeavour do I deem necessary, even from infancy. Nor is there any other cause, in my opinion, why this unavoidable evil sticks so fast in our breasts than that because almost as soon as we are born it

is sown in our minds by our nurses, next cherished by our masters, and, lastly, fed and brought to perfection by our parents. For no one teaches us any good without the expectation of praise, as the reward of merit; whence, being long accustomed to the love of praise, we come at last, in studying to please the majority (and therefore the inferiority), to grow ashamed of being good.

That this plague may be driven the farther from my children, do you, my Gonellus, their mother, and all my friends, chant, inculcate, nay, bellow in their ears, that "vainglory is abject and disgustful; and that there is nothing more excellent than the humble modesty recommended by Christ." This your prudent kindness will inculcate by teaching them good, rather than by blaming their faults; and you will conciliate their love, not hatred, by your admonitions. To this end nothing can conduce more effectually than reading to them the precepts of the Fathers. These, they know, are not angry with them; and, from their venerable sanctity, their authority must have great weight.

Wherefore if you will read such things, beside their lesson in Sallust, to my Margaret and Elizabeth (as their understandings appear to be riper than those of John and Cecilia), you will increase my own, not less than their obligations to you, which are already great. And my children, dear to me by nature, and more endeared by their letters and virtue, shall become by their superior growth in learning and good manners, under your auspices, superlatively dear to me indeed. Farewell. At Court, Whitsun Eve,

SIR THOMAS MORE TO HIS DAUGHTER

MARGARET.

You are too timid and bashful, my dear Margaret, in asking money from a father who is desirous to give it, especially when you made me happy with a letter, every line of which I would not recompense with a piece of gold, as Alexander did those of Cheribus; but, if my power were equal to my will, I would repay every syllable with an ounce of gold. I have sent you what you asked, and would have added more, were it not so delightful to receive the requests and caresses of a daughter-of you, in particular, whom both knowledge and virtue make most dear to my soul. The sooner you spend this money, in your usual proper way, and the sooner you have recourse to me for more, the greater pleasure you will give to your father. Adieu, my beloved daughter.

1554.

LADY JANE GREY TO HER FATHER*. FATHER, ALTHOUGH it hath pleased God to hasten my death by you, by whom my life should rather have been lengthened, yet can I so patiently take it, as I yield God more hearty thanks for shortening my woful days, than if all the world had been given into my possession, with life lengthened at my own will: and albeit I am well assured of your impatient dolors, redoubled many ways, both in bewailing your own woe, and • Written just before her execution.

especially, as I hear, my unfortunate state; yet, my dear father, if I may without offence rejoice in my mishaps, methinks in this I may account myself blessed; that washing my hands with the innocency of my fact, my guiltless blood may cry before the Lord, mercy to the innocent; and though I must needs acknowledge, that being constrained, and, as you well know, continually assayed, in taking the crown upon me, I seemed to consent, and therein grievously offended the queen and her laws; yet do I assuredly trust, that this my offence towards God is so much the less, in that being in so royal an estate as I was, mine enforced honour never mixed with my innocent heart. And thus, good father, I have opened my state to you, whose death at hand, although to you perhaps it may seem right woful, to me there is nothing that can be more welcome, than from this vale of misery to aspire to that heavenly throne of all joy and pleasure with Christ our Saviour. In whose steadfast faith (if it may be lawful for the daughter so to write to her father) the Lord, that hitherto hath strengthened you, so continue you, that at last we may meet in heaven, with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

FROM THE SAME TO LADY KATHARINE GREY,

HER SISTER.

1554.

I HAVE sent you, my dear sister Katharine, a book*, which although it be not outwardly trimmed with gold, yet inwardly it is more worth

* A Greek Testament, in a blank leaf of which the letter was written.