15. Sir Thomas More, concerning the Education of his Children, to Mr. Gunnel, their Domestic Tutor.

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I HAVE received your letters, my dear Gunnel, such as I have always found them-most elegant, and full of affection. Your regard to my children I perceive by your letters-your diligence, from theirs; which every one filled me with increased satisfaction. But what gave me most unfeigned pleasure was, to learn that Elizabeth had maintained, in her mother's absence, that modest and respectful behaviour which few do when their mothers are present. Tell her that this conduct is more gratifying to me than the possession of all the learning in the world. For as I prefer learning united with virtue to all the treasures of princes; so I look upon the reputation, when separated from good morals, as merely infamy rendered notorious and conspicuous. This more especially is the case in regard to women, whose knowledge, as a novelty and a reproach on the indolence of men, the world is eager to attack, and to lay on letters the vices of their dispositions; imagining that, from the faults of the more learned, their own ignorance will pass for virtue. But if, on the other hand, any woman would unite even a moderate portion of learning to eminent mental virtues (which, under your directions, I hope all my girls will do), I reckon her to have made a greater acquisition of real good than if she had joined the wealth of Croesus with the beauty of Helen-not on account of the reputation which will thus be gained (though that also will accompany virtue, as the shadow.does the body), but because the solid rewards of wisdom can neither be taken away like riches, nor decay like beauty: it depends upon the rectitude of one's own conscience, and not on the

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breath of others,-the most precarious and dangerous of supports. For as it is characteristic of a good man to avoid infamy, so to seek only for fame is not only an indication of vanity, but subjects a man to ridicule and wretchedness. He must have a troubled soul indeed, who is elevated with joy, or depressed with grief, according as the opinion of mankind happens to fluctuate. There is no greater benefit, in my opinion, derived from learning, than that inestimable lesson which it teaches, to regard in the pursuit of literature not its applause but its utility. Although some pretenders have abused learning, as well as other good things, as merely the means of acquiring applause, yet the most learned men, those philosophers who have pointed out the wisest rules of human life, have ever taught more salutary precepts.

I have dwelt at greater length on the impropriety of directing the mind to applause, because, my dear Gunnel, you have in your letter declared it as your opinion, that the lofty and aspiring genius of my Margaret ought to be curbed. In this judgment I entirely agree; and I trust you will also allow with me, that a habit of fixing the mind on vain and meaner ends, depresses and degrades a generous and noble disposition; while, on the other hand, that mind is exalted which aspires to virtue and real good, neglecting those shadows which men usually mistake for solid benefits. It is from a conviction of these truths, my dear Gunnel, that I have entreated not only you, who I knew would voluntarily second my aims from your tender regard to all my children; that I have not only entreated my wife, whose maternal tenderness sufficiently impels her to the most earnest endeavours; but that I have also entreated all my friends to take every opportunity of warning my children to avoid the precipices of pride and vanity, and walk in the smooth and level paths of

modesty to look without emotion on the glare of gold; and not to sigh for those things which they falsely admired in another. I have entreated my friends to admonish them, that they should not value themselves more when possessed of beauty, nor less when deprived of it; that they should not, through negligence, deface the beauty which nature may have given them, nor endeavour to increase it by improper arts; that they should account virtue the first good, and learning the second; that from learning they ought to derive its most sublime lessons,piety towards God, benevolence towards all men, modesty of the heart, and Christian humility. By such conduct it is that they will secure to themselves from God the rewards of an innocent life, in the certain expectation of which they will not be afraid of death; and, being possessed of a solid source of pleasure, will neither be buoyed up with empty applauses, nor cast down by unjust reproaches. These I look upon as the true and genuine fruits of learning; and as I acknowledge that all the learned do not obtain them, so I maintain that those who deign to study with this intention, may easily obtain this happy issue. Nor do I think that it affects the harvest that a man or a woman has sown the seed. If they are worthy of being ranked with the human race, if they are distinguished by reason from the beasts, that learning by which the reason is cultivated is equally suitable to both. Both of them, if the seed of good principles be sown in them, cqually produce the germs of virtue. But if the female soil be in its nature stubborn, and more productive of weeds than fruits (an opinion which has often been employed to deter women from literature), it ought, in my opinion, to be more diligently cultivated with learning and good instruction, to correct by industry the defects of nature. These were the opinions of

the most wise and virtuous men of antiquity. To omit others, I shall only mention the venerated names of Jerome and Augustine, who not only exhorted the most illustrious matrons and the most admired virgins to apply themselves to learning, but also assisted their progress, by diligently explaining to them the most abstruse parts of Scripture; and wrote to young women letters so full of erudition, as to be barely intelligible to many men who profess themselves extremely erudite. My dear Gunnel, make my dear daughters acquainted with the works of these excellent men; and from hence they will learn what end they ought to propose from their learning, and how wholly they ought to look for its fruits in a good conscience and the approval of heaven. Thus, internally happy and tranquil, they will neither be moved by the praise of flatterers, nor chagrined by the ignorant scoffers at learning.

But I hear you reply, that although these maxims may be true, yet they are beyond the capacity of my young scholars; since few, indeed, of a more advanced age can wholly resist the ticklings of vanity. But, my Gunnel, the more difficult it is to get rid of the distemper of pride, the greater ought our correcting efforts to be from the earliest stages of life. Nor can I attribute the extreme obstinacy with which this vice adheres to our breasts to any other cause than that, almost from the time we are born, it is implanted by nurses in the tender minds of children, cherished by teachers, fostered and matured by parents; while every one instructs the pupil to expect praise as the proper reward of every good action. Thus, being long accustomed to look with high estimation on applause, it happens at length, that while they endeavour to gain the approbation of the greater number, who are always the worst, they become ashamed to be good. To keep off this con

tagion from my children, let me entreat you and their mother and all my friends continually to expose the folly and despicable nature of vanity; and, on the other hand, to represent that nothing is more noble than humble modesty, so often inculcated by Christ. This lesson ought to be impressed upon their minds rather by teaching them virtue, than reproaching them with their faults, and thus inducing them to love, and not hate, those who give them wholesome counsel. It might be extremely useful, for that purpose, to put into their hands the precepts of some ancient fathers on this subject: they are monitors who cannot be suspected of passion, and who must derive much authority from their sacred character. If their lessons in Sallust do not occupy their whole time, you will add to the many other obligations I owe you, by reading something of the sort with my Margai et and Elizabeth: for John and Cecil perhaps are not far enough advanced. By this means you will render my children, who are dear to me by nature, and dearer by learning and virtue, still more dear by an increase of virtue and good morals.

16. The same to his dear Children.

THE merchant of Bristol brought me your letters the day after he received them from you. I need not say that I was exceedingly delighted; for nothing can come from your hands so rude and negligent, as would not give me more satisfaction than the most laboured production from any other person. So much does my affection endear your writings to me: but, happily, they need nothing to render them agreeable beyond their own intrinsic merit-their pleasantry, and elegant Latin. There was not one of