and referring, as professed reformers in most ages have been wont to do, to the better practice of the 'gude kirk primitive.' In the Complaynt of Bagsche, an old dog who has to give place to a new favourite, we have a reflection on the fickleness of court favour ; in The Jousting of Watson and Barbour a satire on the medical profession; in the attack on Syde Taillis a rough exposure of the affected fashions of the day. In his Squire Meldrum, the most pleasing and lively of his narrative pieces, Lyndesay appears as a late metrical romancer, taking as the basis of his story the career and exploits of a contemporary Scotch laird. The Satyre of the Thrie Estates, a well-sustained invective against the follies and vices of the time, the first approach to a regular dramatic composition in Scotland, and the most considerable of our Moralities, abounds in exhibitions of the author's unrestrained Rabelaisian humour. It is impossible to read three pages without laughing, but there are many pages which it would be impossible to read at all to any modern audience. In his latest work, the Dialog concerning the Monarchie (c. 1553) Lyndesay reverts to the allegorical manner of his Dreme, and represents himself in converse with an old man, Experience, on 'the miserable estate of the world.' After a polemical defence of the use of his native tongue (v. inf.), the poem glides into a somewhat tiresome metrical history of the ancient kingdoms of the earth; it ends with an attack on that of the Pope as Antichrist, and a prophecy of the millennium, which he anticipates in the year 2000 A.D. In the Prologue to this-his most elaborate composition-the author speaks modestly of his own artistic skill. He has never slept on Parnassus, nor kept company with the Muses, nor drunk of Helicon : his inspiration is drawn from Calvary; and he prays that the miracle of Cana may be renewed in converting the water of his instruction into wine. This candid self-criticism is on the whole correct. Lyndesay was rather a man of action bent on popularising his keen convictions than a professional writer. The bias of his mind and the temper of his time were alike unfavourable to finished works of art. His superabundant energy and ready humour made him a power, but he had no inclination to philosophise in solitude or to refine at leisure. His life was spent

amid stormy politics, and we need not wonder that a pressure of affairs similar to that which for a space held even the genius of Milton in abeyance, should have marred the literary productions of a man who had more talent than genius, and who wrote

'currente calamo' on such various themes with an almost fatal fluency. His greatest admirers have confessed that he has written so many verses that they cannot always be expected to reach a very high standard.' Passages in The Dreme, Squire Meldrum, and The Monarchie, may for grace of description be set beside any corresponding to them in the works of his predecessors; but his writings are in the main more distinguished for trenchant sense, vivacity, courage, and observing power than by high imagination. He himself speaks of his 'raggit rural verse,' and he willingly passes from more delicate fancies to discourse on the grave matters with the rehearsal of which he desires rather to edify than to delight his readers. His style is generally incisive, and though frequently disfigured by 'aureate' terms, leaves us little room to doubt of the author's meaning. Unlike Dunbar, Lyndesay may almost be said to have been born a Protestant; but he never ventured beyond the range of the leading Reformers of his age. He is a Calvinist, more tolerant of sins of blood than errors of brain, rejoicing like Tertullian over the agonies of the damned. His mission was to amuse and arouse the people of his time, to affront them with a reflection of their vices, and to set to rough music the thunder and the whirlwind of sixteenthcentury iconoclasm.

J. NICHOL.

FROM THE PROLOGUE TO THE DREME.'

Efter that I the lang wynteris nycht

Had lyne walking1, in to my bed, allone,
Throuch hevy thocht, that no way sleip2 I mycht,
Rememberyng of divers thyngis gone:

So, up I rose, and clethit me anone;

3

Be this, fair Tytane with his lemis 3 lycht

Ouer all the land had spred his baner brycht.

With cloke and hude I dressit me belyve*,

With dowbyll schone, and myttanis on my handis;
Howbeit the air was rycht penetrative,

Yit fure I furth, lansing ouirhorte5 the landis,
Toward the see, to schorte me on the sandis;
Because unblomit was baith bank and braye,
And so, as I was passing be the waye,

I met dame Flora, in dule weid dissagysit",
Quhilk into May wes dulce, and delectabyll;
With stalwart stormis, hir sweitnes wes supprisit;
Hir hevynlie hewis war turnit into sabyll,

8

Quhilkis umquhile war to luffaris amiabyll.
Fled frome the froste, the tender flouris I saw,
Under dame Naturis mantyll, lurking law.

Pensyve in hart, passing full soberlie

Unto the see, ordward I fure anone;

The see was furth, the sand wes smooth and drye;
Then up and doune I musit myne allone,

Tyll that I spyit ane lyttill cave of stone,
Heych in ane craig upwart I did approche.
But tarying, and clam up in the roche:

2 Observe the use of ei for several southern vowel-sounds.

And purposit, for passing of the tyme,
Me to defend from ociositie

With pen and paper to register in ryme
Sum mery mater of Antiquitie :

Bot Idelnes, ground of iniquitie,

Scho maid so dull my spreitis, me within,
That I wyste nocht at quhat end to begin.

But satt styll in that cove, quhare I mycht see
The wolteryng of the wallis1 up and down;
And this fals Warldis instabylytie

Unto that see makkand' comparisoun,
And of this Warldis wracheit variatioun
To thame that fixis all thair hole intent,
Consideryng quho most had suld most repent.

So, with my hude my hede I happit warme,
And in my cloke I fauldit boith my feit;
I thocht my corps with cauld suld tak no harme,
My mittanis held my handis weill in heit;
The skowland craig me coverit frome the sleit :
Thare styll I satt, my bonis for to rest,
Tyll Morpheus, with sleip, my spreit opprest.

So throw the bousteous 3 blastis of Eolus,
And throw my walkyng on the nycht before,
And throw the seyis movyng marvellous
Be Neptunus, with mony route and rore,
Constrainit I was to sleip, withouttin more:
And quhat I dremit, in conclusion

I sall you tell, ane marvellous Visioun.

1

wavcs.

2 Northern participial form.

• boisterous.

FROM THE TESTAMENT AND COMPLAYNT OF THE PAPINGO.'

Kyng James the First, the patroun of prudence,
Gem of ingyne, and peirll of polycie,

Well of Justice, and flude of eloquence,

Quhose vertew doith transcende my fantasie
For tyll discryve; yit quhen he stude most hie
Be fals exhorbitant conspiratioun

That prudent Prince was pieteouslie put down.
Als, James the Secunde, roye of gret renoun,
Beand in his superexcelland glore,

Throuch reakless schuttyng of one gret cannoun
The dolent deith, allace! did hym devore.
One thyng thare bene, of quhilk I marvell more,
That Fortune had at hym sic mortall feid1
Throuch fyftie thousand, to waill him by the heid.
My hart is peirst with panes, for to pance3,
Or wrytt, that courtis variatioun

Of James the Third, quhen he had governance,
The dolour, dreid, and desolatioun,

The change of court and conspiratioun ;
And quhon that Cochrane, with his companye,
That tyme in courte clam so presumpteouslye.

Allace! quhare bene that rycht redoutit roye,
That potent prince, gentyll King James the Feird*?
I pray to Christe his saule for to convoye :
Ane greater nobyll rang nocht in to the eird.
O Atropus! warye 5 we maye thy weird;
For he wes myrrour of humylitie,

Lode sterne and lampe of liberalytie.

And of his court, throuch Europe sprang the fame,
Of lustie Lordis and lufesum Ladyis ying,
Tryumphand tornayis, justyng, and kychtly game,
With all pastyme, accordyng for ane kyng:
He wes the glore of princelie governyng,