Chaucer of Scotland. His poems are "The Dreme," "The Complaynt," "The Complaynt of Papingo," "The Complaynt of Bagscho," "Ane Pleasant Satyre of the Three Estatis;" "The Answer to the King's Flyting," "Kittie's Confession," "The Tragedie of the Cardinal," "The Historie and Testament of Squire Meldrum," "Monarchie," and "The Epistill Nuncupatorie."
"The Dreme" reminds one of the dreams of former poems, of Chaucer, Dante, Langland, called "the Visions of Pierce Plowman," and those of Douglas and Dunbar. Probably "The Golden Terge" of Dunbar was the immediate suggestor; for as Dunbar goes out, as "the stern of day began to schyne," and lying under a roseir, or arbour of roses, lulled by the songs of birds and the sound of a river, dreams, so does Lyndsay, passing, with Dame Remembrance as his guide, through earth, hell, purgatory, heaven, paradise, and "the planets seven," hearing and seeing all the works of God, and the rewards and punishments of the good and the evil. It has great poetic merit. "The Complaynt" describes the degenerate manners of the Court whilst Lyndsay was banished from it, and the grapes were sour. "The Complaynt of the Papingo," or the king's parrot, deals out the same measure to the hierarchy as Lyndsay had given to the State, in which Cardinal Beaton, and the Pope and clergy in general, are soundly rated. Next comes "The Three Estatis," an actual Morality Play, in which all kinds of emblematicial personages. Rex Humanitas, Sensualitie, Chastitie, &c., act their parts. Its scope may be inferred from its being declared to be "in commendation of vertew and vituperation of vyce." This is the great work of Lyndsay, and was acted before the king and queen, who sat out nine mortal hours in its performance, in which they successively heard every order in the State—Court, nobility, Church, and people—severely criticised. Lyndsay's play has the merit of preceding both "Gorboduc" and "Gammer Gurton's Needle;" and it certainly possesses the moral of the former and the wit of the latter. "The Answer to the King's Flyting" is a very curious example of what the indulgence of a professional fool at Court led to: it produced not only the jester but the poet laureate. The king condescended to flyte, or jibe, with his jester; the jester in return became the satirist, and the poet laureate healed all wounds by his eulogies. James V. flyted with Lyndsay, and Lyndsay answered with interest. In "Kittie's Confession" Lyndsay ridicules auricular confession. In "The Cardinal" he sings a song of triumph over the fall of Beaton. In the "Legend of Squire Meldrum" the poet dresses up the adventures of a domestic of Lord Lyndsay's of that name in the manner of an ancient romance, and it was extremely popular. It has been declared by critics of note to be the best of Lyndsay's poems, and equal to the most polished pieces of Drayton, who lived a century after him.
We have given thus much notice of the Lyon King-at-Arms, because nowadays he does not enjoy, perhaps, his due fame in comparison with that of our Chaucer and our early dramatists; yet a perusal of his works is necessary to a real knowledge of the times in which he lived. The leader, however, must be warned that in the search after this knowledge he will have to wade through much filth, and language now astonishing for its naked coarseness. On the other hand, he will occasionally find scientific theories of modern pretension quite familiar to our Lyon-King. For instance, Kirwan has claimed the geologic discovery that the currents which broke up the hills in Europe came from the south-west, leaving the diluvial slopes declining to the north-east. But hear Lynsday three hundred years ago:—
"I reid how clerkis dois conclude,
Induryng that maist furious flude
With quhilk the erth was sa opprest,
The wynd blew feorth of the south-west,
As may be sene be experience.
How, throw the watter's violence,
The heich montanis, in every art,
Ar bain fornenst the south-west part;
As the montanis of Pyreneis,
The Alpis, and rochis in the seis;
Richt sa the rochis gret and gray
Quhilk standis into Norroway.
The heichest hillis, in every art,
And in Scotland, for the maist part,
Throuch weltryng of that furious flude,
The craigis of erth war maist denude.
Travelling men may considder best
The montanis bair nixt the south-west."
MUSIC.
The present century was nearly as distinguished for its music as its poetry. The censure which has been cast on England in our own time for not being a musical or music-producing nation did not exist then. On the contrary, we stood at the head of Europe in original musical composition. The monarchs of that age, like their most illustrious predecessors from Alfred downwards, were highly educated in music. Henry VIII. was himself a composer of Church music. It must be recollected that Henry, being but the second son of Henry VII., was originally educated for the Church, whose dignities were then princely; and, as a matter of course, he was made familiar with its music, which occupied so prominent a part in its worship. Erasmus bears testimony to the fact of Henry having composed offices for the Church—a fact confirmed by Lord Herbert of Cherbury and Bishop Burnet; and Sir John Hawkins in his history of music, and Boyce, in his "Cathedral Music of English Masters," have preserved specimens of the Royal composition. Boyce gives a fine anthem of Henry's, "Lord, the Maker of all things." The king's musical establishment for his chapel cost annually upwards of £2,000, consisting of 114 persons, and was continued by Edward. Mary and Elizabeth were equally learned in music, though they do not appear to have patronised it as royally.
Under these circumstances great composers, both of sacred and social music, flourished in the sixteenth century. The names of Tye, Marbeck, Tallis, Bird, Farrant, Dowland, Bennet, Wilbye, Ford, &c., stand in superb array as composers of some of our finest Church music, or of madrigal and part singing.
Tye was so much esteemed by Henry VIII., that he was made music preceptor to Edward VI., and was afterward organist to Elizabeth. He composed both anthems and madrigals; and his motett, "Laudate nomen Domini," is still famous. Marbeck composed the notes to the Preces and Responses, which, with some alterations, are still in use in all our cathedrals. He was organist at Windsor, and was very nearly losing his life under the ferocious Henry, being found to be the member of a society for religious reformation. He and his three accomplices
