norable
Euer is their minde and lust insaciable."

The most definite proof of the date of publication, however, is found in
the fourth Eclogue. It contains a long poem called The towre of vertue and
honour, which is really a highly-wrought elegy on the premature and
glorious death, not of "the Duke of Norfolk, Lord High admiral, and one of
Barclay's patrons," as has been repeated parrot-like, from Warton
downwards, but of his chivalrous son, Sir Edward Howard, Lord High Admiral
for the short space of a few months, who perished in his gallant, if
reckless, attack upon the French fleet in the harbour of Brest in the year
1513. It is incomprehensible that the date of the publication of the
Eclogues should be fixed at 1514, and this blunder still perpetuated. No
Duke of Norfolk died between Barclay's boyhood and 1524, ten years after
the agreed upon date of the Elegy; and the Duke (Thomas), who was Barclay's
patron, never held the position of Lord High Admiral (though his son Lord
Thomas, created Earl of Surrey in 1514, and who afterwards succeeded him,
also succeeded his brother Sir Edward in the Admiralship), but worthily
enjoyed the dignified offices of Lord High Steward, Lord Treasurer, and
Earl Marshal, and died one of Henry's most respected and most popular
Ministers, at his country seat, at a good old age, in the year above
mentioned, 1524. The other allusions to contemporary events, and especially
to the poet's age, preclude the idea of carrying forward the publication to
the latter date, did the clearly defined points of the Elegy allow of it,
as they do not.

Minalcas, one of the interlocutors, thus introduces the subject:--

"But it is lamentable
To heare a Captayne so good and honorable,
_So soone_ withdrawen by deathes crueltie,
Before his vertue was at moste hye degree.
If death for a season had shewed him fauour,
To all his nation he should haue bene honour."

"'The Towre of Vertue and Honor,' introduced as a song of one of the
shepherds into these pastorals, exhibits no very masterly strokes of a
sublime and inventive fancy. It has much of the trite imagery usually
applied in the fabrication of these ideal edifices. It, however, shows our
author in a new walk of poetry. This magnificent tower, or castle is built
on inaccessible cliffs of flint: the walls are of gold, bright as the sun,
and decorated with 'olde historyes and pictures manyfolde:' the turrets are
beautifull