About the year 1620, when William Bradford was writing his famous journal,
and John Carver and Edward Winslow were sailing with him in the
_Mayflower_, when Doctor Harvey had told London folk that man's blood
circulates, and many new things were being noised abroad, twelve-year-old
John Milton first went to school. His school had been founded in 1512 by
Dean Colet, whose great tomb, just mentioned, was but a stone's throw
distant. It was a famous school. Ben Jonson and the famous Camden had
studied there, and learned Latin and Greek, the catechism, and good
manners. There were 153 boys in all; the number prescribed had reference,
curiously, to the number of fishes in Simon Peter's miraculous draught.
Over the windows were inscribed the words in large capital letters:
"_Schola Catechizationis Puerorum In Christi Opt. Max. Fide Et Bonis
Literis_." On entering, the pupils were confronted by the motto painted on
each window: "_Aut Doce, Aut Disce, Aut Discede_"--either teach or learn
or leave the place. There were two rooms, one called the _vestibulum_, for
the little boys, where also instruction was given in Christian manners. In
the main schoolroom the master sat at the further end upon his imposing
chair of office called a _cathedra_, and under a bust of Colet said to
have been a work of "exquisite art." Stow tells us that somewhat before
Milton's time the master's wages were a mark a week and a livery gown of
four nobles delivered in cloth; his lodgings were free. The sub-master
received weekly six shillings, eight pence, and was given his gown.
Children of every nationality were eligible; on admission they passed an
examination in reading, writing, and the catechism, and paid four pence,
which went to the poor scholar who swept the school. The eight classes
included boys from eight to eighteen years of age, though the curriculum
of the school extended over only six years. Milton's master was Doctor
Alexander Gill, who from 1608-1635 held the mastership of St. Paul's
School. A progressive man was this same reverend gentleman--a great
believer in his native English and in spelling reform. Speaking of Latin,
this remarkable Latin master said: "We may have the same treasure in our
own tongue. I love Rome, but London better. I favour Italy, but England
more. I honour the Latin, but worship the English." He was also an
advocate of the retention of good old Saxon words as against the invasion
of Latinised ones. "But whither," he writes, "have you banished those
words which our forefathers used for these new-fangled ones? Are our words
to be exiled like our citizens? O ye Englishmen, retain what yet remains
of our native speech!" Under Mr. Gill's instruction, and that of his son,
who was usher, Milton spent about four years of strenuous study. So great
was his ambition for learning during the years when most boys find school
hours alone irksome enough that he says: "My father destined me when a
little boy for the study of humane letters, which I seized with such
eagerness that from the twelfth year of my age I scarcely ever went from
my lessons to bed before midnight; which indeed was the first cause of
injury to my eyes, to whose natural weakness there were also added
frequent headaches." Philips writes: