lks of Sidney's quarrel with Lord Oxford
at least ten years before it happened), we do deny that Lilly's book
could, if read by any man of common sense, produce such a coxcomb,
whose spiritual ancestors would rather have been Gabriel Harvey and
Lord Oxford,--if indeed the former has not maligned the latter, and
ill-tempered Tom Nash maligned the maligner in his turn.

But, indeed, there is a double anachronism in Sir Piercie; for he does
not even belong to the days of Sidney, but to those worse times which
began in the latter years of Elizabeth, and after breaking her mighty
heart, had full license to bear their crop of fools' heads in the
profligate days of James. Of them, perhaps, hereafter. And in the
meanwhile, let those who have not read "Euphues" believe that, if they
could train a son after the fashion of his Ephoebus, to the great
saving of their own money and his virtue, all fathers, even in these
money-making days, would rise up and call them blessed. Let us
rather open our eyes, and see in these old Elizabeth gallants our own
ancestors, showing forth with the luxuriant wildness of youth all the
virtues which still go to the making of a true Englishman. Let us not
only see in their commercial and military daring, in their political
astuteness, in their deep reverence for law, and in their solemn sense
of the great calling of the English nation, the antitypes or rather
the examples of our own: but let us confess that their chivalry is only
another garb of that beautiful tenderness and mercy which is now, as
it was then, the twin sister of English valor; and even in their
extravagant fondness for Continental manners and literature, let us
recognize that old Anglo-Norman teachableness and wide-heartedness,
which has enabled us to profit by the wisdom and civilization of all
ages and of all lands, without prejudice to our own distinctive national
character.

And so I go to my story, which, if any one dislikes, he has but to turn
the leaf till he finds pasturage which suits him better.

Amyas could not sail the next day, or the day after; for the southwester
freshened, and blew three parts of a gale dead into the bay. So having
got the "Mary Grenville" down the river into Appledore pool, ready to
start with the first shift of wind, he went quietly home; and when
his mother started on a pillion behind the old serving-man to ride
to Clovelly, where Frank lay wounded, he went in with her as far as
Bideford, and the