at my own expense now three years ago. Grocyn had written to me that he would see to it faithfully and diligently that they should be distributed in accordance with my desires; nor do I doubt that he has fulfilled his promises, as he is one of the most honest and reliable men whom England has ever produced. Kindly deign to give your own help in this matter, by reminding and spurring on those by whom you consider the business should be brought to an issue. There is no room for doubting that the books are sold after all this time, and surely some people must have the money, which would be of greater service to me just now than ever. For by some means or other I must bring it about that I may have a few months to myself, in which to get free from the tasks which I have set myself in profane literature; and I had hoped to accomplish that this winter, had not many hopes played me false. Since it is for only a very few months, this freedom will not demand the outlay of much money.

So I entreat you to help me as much as you can in the direction of those studies for which I so eagerly long, and free me from that kind of literature which has for some time ceased to be agreeable to my taste. I must not ask my friend Lord William Mountjoy; yet it would not be too unreasonable, should he assist me a little according to his usual kindness, either because he has always patronized my efforts in this way, or because a work was taken up on his advice and dedicated to his honor, namely, the Adages. I am sorry about the former edition both because it is so full of errors, due to the carelessness of the printers, that it would seem to have been spoiled on purpose, and because at the instigation of certain persons I hurried the work, which now at length begins to seem poor and meagre, since I have become conversant with the Greek authors. It has been decided, therefore, to correct my own and the printers' faults in another edition, and at the same time to consult the interests of the studious by improving a very useful work. Although I am in the meantime treating a subject which is perhaps somewhat humble, yet, while I am engaged in the gardens of the Greeks, I pluck in passing many a flower for use later even in sacred literature. One thing I do see plainly, that without Greek we amount to nothing in any sort of literature. For it is one thing to conjecture, another thing to be certain; one thing to see with your own eyes, another to trust to those of other people. See to what this letter has grown; but it is my affection and not any stupidity that makes me so loquacious. Farewell, most learned and most noble Colet.

I should very much like to learn news of our friend Sixtin, as also what your friend the Rev. Prior Richard Charnock is doing. In order that what you write or send me may more surely reach me, please let it be sent to Christopher Fisher, your very affectionate friend, and the patron of all literary men, in whose house I am staying. Paris, c. December, 1504.1

15 Eras. Ep. 181.

CHAPTER XVI

SECOND VISIT TO ENGLAND; TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GREEK:

NEW PATRONS

The reply of Colet to this letter must have been most prompt and reassuring to Erasmus' hopes, causing him to wind up speedily his business in Paris and to make all due preparations for another sojourn in England. At just what time he reached England is unknown, but it was probably in the late spring or early summer of 1505 that he had the pleasure of meeting again his former friends, and of making many new ones whose names we shall presently have occasion to mention. Since his last visit he had acquired a large knowledge of Greek, which he was not too modest to display for the edification of his learned friends, and for his own personal emolument. So we find him throwing off translations of various Greek authors and dedicating them to those about him who, he thought, might be of service and profit to him. Among such we find Lucian's Toxaris, dedicated to Richard Foxe, an influential bishop and statesman; the Hecuba and Iphigenia of Euripides, to Archbishop Warham; the Declamation in reply to Lucian's Tyrannicida, to Richard Whitford, then chaplain to Foxe; Lucian's Timon, to Thomas Ruthall, Dean of Salisbury; Lucian's Gallus, to Christopher Urswick, ambassador and Dean of Windsor; and possibly others.1

Of all these new friends Archbishop Warham proved to be the most munificent; and the favors which he bestowed on him show us plainly that the prelate appreciated the genius of the monk and fostered it magnificently. He was a kindly and noble character, and perhaps this is as good a place as any to give a slight sketch of him in connection. with our subject. He was a graduate of Oxford and had qualified himself to practice law, after which he received an appointment from Henry VII to become secretary to an embassy to the Duke of Burgundy. Later he took Holy Orders, and rapid preferment followed: he was appointed in succession Bishop of London, Lord Chancellor, and Archbishop of Canterbury. Speaking of him after his death, Erasmus thus described him:

Here there comes to my mind William Warham, a man worthy to be remembered in every age, who was Archbishop of Canterbury and Primate of England. He was a theologian, not only in name, but also in reality, a doctor of both canon and civil law, a man who had successfully comported himself in foreign embassies, and who 1 When Gibbon spoke of Erasmus' learning Greek at Oxford in order to teach it at Cambridge, he stated something which has no foundation in fact, for Erasmus had now been studying Greek for many years, and the works above mentioned are proofs of his acquirements in this direction.

was held in high estimation by Henry VII, a prince of the greatest perspicacity. By such degrees he was placed in the eminent See of Canterbury, the highest Church dignity in the island. To this burden, heavy in itself, was added another heavier still. He was forced to accept the office of Chancellor, an office, indeed, which among the English is truly regal, for, as an especial mark of honor, as often as he appears publicly, the royal crown and sceptre are borne before him. For he is as the eye, the tongue, and the right arm of the king, and the supreme judge of Britain. He filled this office for many years with such ability that you would set him down as one born to the office, and as thinking of nothing else. Yet likewise in the matters which pertain to religion and his Church functions, he was so vigilant and watchful that you would say no other extraneous matter could distract him from them. He found time to read his office religiously, to say mass almost every day, to hear, moreover, two or three masses, to examine causes, to receive embassies, to consult with the king if there was anything of moment transpiring at the palace, to visit churches if something had happened which required his decision, to dine with his guests, of whom there were often two hundred, and, finally, to give his leisure moments to reading. To such various cares he gave his attention and his time, of which no portion was wasted in hunting, gaming, trivial conversation, excess at table, or worldly pleasures. In place of all such pastimes he used to enjoy pleasant reading or the conversation of some learned man. Although at times he had as guests bishops, dukes, and earls, yet the dinner was always ended within the space of an hour. Amid the splendid retinue which the dignity of his position demanded, it was wonderful how little he gave himself to worldly pleasures. Rarely did he taste wine, but when he was past seventy he used to drink a weak beverage which they call beer, and this very sparingly. Yet, though so abstemious himself, he used to enliven the table by his pleasant countenance and his festive conversation. Whether he had dined or was fasting, you would have observed the same self-denial. From suppers he totally abstained; or if there happened in any close friends, such as ourselves, he sat at the table but took practically no food. If there were no such gathering, he gave the time usually taken by eating to prayer or to reading. But as he abounded in wit that was marvelously spontaneous yet without malice or absurdity, so he was delighted with the rather frank jesting of his friends; yet, withal, he shunned scurrility and slander as one would a snake. Thus this most illustrious man richly lengthened out his days, the brevity of which many rail against.

2

This was written by Erasmus after the death of Warham in 1532, and we need add nothing to it except to relate the prelate's generosity to him. In a letter to Servatius, Erasmus said that Archbishop Warham "loved me so that were he my father or my brother he could not love me more; 'Erasmus, Ecclesiastes, p. 100. Lyons, 1543.