• IB 26365 LIBRARY 11953 <£RS;'7Y0F CALlr a mm iif e.\i;lkh poetry I BOM TNI LE8THETK POINT OF VIEW PAW l THE PERIOD FROM LANGLAND TO SPENSER. IN \n;i i; \l. DISSERTATION PKKSKNTKI' TO TBI PHILOSOPHICAL FACT LT1 OF Till: IM\ KK-ITY ofJleipzm FOR THE DOCTOR'S DE<, HANS C^PETIKSON M. A. -JG?S3- LEIPZIG GUSTAV FOCK 1896. / To Professor Dr. L. A. Sherman author of Analytics of Literature. I. Introductory Remarks. I hare always felt that writings about literature from the aesthetic point of view were very largely valueless for two chief reasons. In the first place such work is not based upon research. It does not rest upon a mass of scientific proof, proceeding from a body of well ascertained facts such as would be demanded in any other department of inquiry. Consequently it fails to appeal to him who believes that increase of knowledge depends first of all upon at least measurably exact methods of investigation. Instead criticism has come to be based upon a certain power of intuitive perception called taste, which, however valuable, can hardly be called a promoter of scientific confidence. In the second place the element of personality enters into writing of this sort more than is permitted in work with any claim to scientific worth. Judge- ments about literature and art are mostly ex cathedra. With people in general the value of a criticism depends more upon the reputation of the critic than upon any logical scientific excellencies of his work itself. If, as however often happens, it appeals directly by its justice and clearness it does so because the reader has through unconscious growth become the equal of the critic beforehand in appreciation. Criticism unlike science cannot of itself engender belief, cannot instruct in any true sense of the word. It seems to me that these few remarks are in their nature self evident. How many of us have not often felt that aesthetics is inde- finite and unsatisfactory? Specialists in chemistry or philo- logy work along definite lines in common, toward a com- mon goal, with a mass of established facts as common pro- perty. Are aesthetic histories of literature or aesthetic judgements about literature, on the other hand, much more than a heterogeneous mass of private opinion? This is a great lack. All inquiry into the life of authors, all untangling of philological intricacies and explaining of historical obscurities in connection with poetry or prose can have but one aim — to make literature understood and appreciated by the mass of educated readers that are not .specialists in philology. To this very end the aesthetic content of poetry must not be ignored. English poetry is the embodi- ment of English ideals; and there can be no true history of this poetry that does not treat the subject from the aesthetic side. But it is precisely this aesthetic element that is the most elusive. Nine cultivated readers would be able to determine the meaning of the difficult passages in an act of Hamlet without help, where only the one would be able to grasp the force and deeper significance of the pas- sage alone. While the appreciating of a poem is of more importance than the simple understanding of it, it is also more difficult. This has been my experience in attempting to get several hundreds of young people to understand some- what of the inner development of English poetry as a vehicle for the expression of a progressive series of ideals; and it is to help somewhat here that I have undertaken this work. There is no reason why such a history as I have in- dicated may not be made on scientific principles, why a system of aesthetic inquiry may not be devised for poetry that shall have a definite theory and method, that shall be able to stand on its own authority, be in touch with other lines of thought, and eliminate the personal equation much more than has yet been done. But in my attempt to make a history of this sort, I have been able to get no aid from aesthetics, partly for the reasons given, but particularly because criticism does not recognize the existence of elements. It was not until 1893 by the publication of I <nilt up of certain constant and ultimate elements; and mam these were isolated and defined. Hut what was of more value, a method was given, and certain simple goals were definitely set to be reached. Previously I had collected a mass of material on figures of speech with the same idea of elements in mind; and now I set about determing the quality and quantity ot them all in the fifty greatest poets of En^li-h literature, during rata leisure as I had. Of this the pn work is the tirst period — from Langland t<> BptHMT. I hoped that i>\ this means I could definitely fix the aesthetic value of each poem, which then by a comparison of all would reveal the real inner development during the period. A mass of statistics would be obtained from which a history of English poetry might M written that would not be dependent for its value upon the authority of the critic, nor be colored by his personality. The new method was simple enough, but the difficulties in the way of applying it to actual investigation were found to be not a few. It was found necessary to define the elements much more scientifically than had yet been done. Several new ones were discovered; others were found to stand in new relations to each other. It became necessary to distinguish sharply between subject - matter and technique. I have felt compelled to fall back more upon psychology as the ultimate founda- tion of all than Prof. Sherman did. Aesthetics should be the science of the imagination, just as logic is the science of reason. This work consists of two parts. In the first I have attempted to define the poetic elements as I have understood them during my work. In part two I have cited the total number of each poetic element in twelve representative poems from Langland to Spenser. The results I have tabu- *) By Prof. Dr. L. A. Sherman; Ginn and Company Boston. lated, and from these tables sketched the internal develop- ment during the period. Part one deals with the integrity of my method; part two gives the results from applying it to actual investigation. As I have talked with my friends about this matter from time to time, a number of objections have been raised, which seem to centre about three points. First they say that a scientific investigation of the aesthetic element in poetry or in anything else is an impossibility, which merely means that it has not yet been done. In the second place they say it would destroy our capacity for aesthetic enjoy- ment. But we cannot know if it will until it has been quite extensively tried. I have employed this objective method through two years in giving instruction in literature from the aesthetic point of view to some three hundred young men and women; every one has felt his power of aesthetic enjoyment not only not decrease but on the con- trary increase. This second objection has some weight however, because it is true that our enjoyment of anything aesthetic ceases the moment we begin to observe ourselves. But it is not necessary that everybody be continually observing himself. Only when he proceeds to inform the public, is it desirable that he have some reasons of a self-sufficient sort for the faith that is in him. And, lastly, it has been said that investigation such as this is sacrilegious. Yet trying to discover how Shakespeare made Hamlet is surely no worse than the efforts of the geologist to learn how God made the universe. To find out a thing or two has been deemed sacrilegious since the days of Adam. IL The Elements of Poetical Subject-Matter. The real ego, as distinguished from the purely uni- fying activity of the mind, is a body of generalizations that make up what we call our personality — that which marks — 9 — of us off from all other human Magi, These gen.- r.ili/.-d notions are characterized by a quality of desiralnlitx. Tli.'v furnish us with our motives; they set drifts and im- pulses going in us, and are really the forms in which our will comes to consciousness. They are generally called "ideals", a word that is undesirable because it includes only those that are of a high order. 1 prefer the name "types", which may then be defined as any idea that the ego consciously <»r unconsciously considers of worth and strives to reali/» Theae types come to us in a variety of ways, most of which ;ir.- unknown. We inherit a proclivity for types of a certain sort. Many are formed from the associations and environment of childhood and youth. Many are closely connected with the passion of love. Many come only from the deeper experiences of later life. There are six qualities about these types to be con- sidered. (1) All men have them. (2) They must change from time to time. We see clearly that they do change. The notions any one of us had ten years back of what was desirable are not those he had twenty years ago, nor are these what he will have ten years hence. If we think how we lived and acted in our childhood, we often do not seem the same person. And these types must change because they are the synthetic product of consciousness, and consciousness itself is this same unifying activity. (3) They are brought to the fore in our minds always ultimately by some sen- sation from without. (4) If from any cause we are made to believe that a type will be or may be partially or entirely realized, we experience pleasure; if the contrary, sorrow. (5) The number of attributes we may give to any type is infinite; that is, will always be greater than we can ever conceive. (6) As we become conscious of these types, they assume the form of something human. Thus we assign the attributes of man to inanimate things daily in our speech, and this is not a projecting of ourselves into our environ- ment but a characteristic of the types which that environ- ment suggests. — 10 — These types are the elements of poetical subject-matter. How they are related to the elements of technique in poetry may best be seen by analyzing an instance of everyday occurrence. One of my friends is struck by some fact or happening on the street, and comes to me under strong feeling and tells it. The phenomenon that struck him did so — that is, was raised out of the ordinary — because it set going in his mind a train of associations that ulti- mately brought one or more of his types to consciousness. This type had a quality of desirability about it, and what he saw made him believe either that the type actually could be realized or that it could not. The result is enthusiasm or sorrow, and in either case he tells me. He would not have told me, if his feelings had not been stirred; and his feelings would not have been stirred, if he had not supposed that his unconscious desires either were possible of realiza- tion or were not. What he finally tells me is art. It may be art with good subject-matter and bad manner, or with the reverse. At any rate, it is the setting forth of a type — the spiritual — by means of words — the material. There can be nothing more to art in its widest sense. There is evidently as wide a difference between the types in the following works as between black and white: Comedy of Errors, Othello, Coopers The Last of the Mohicans, Ibsen's Brand, Sue's The Wandering Jew, Browning's Luria, The Winter's Tale, Hamlet, Dare-Devil Dick, David Copper- field, Cymheline, Rider Haggard's She. We have seen that there is an evolution in types; and this is the same for the race as for the individual. By studying this progression in the types of the individual, and as historically revealed in literature, the following classi- fication may be set up. I. Incident and Adventure. Here there are but few types and those are mostly of class II and III. The interest centers about happenings. Examples are pre-eminently the "Indianer-Geschichten" and "Nickle Libraries" of our earliest youth, and of a higher grade Haggard's She and King 11 1 ; ~ l- ilst of the M The And these last, of a higher sort as I -aid, arv . ht-r simph I- pes of class II and 111 bogin U) mingle with the purely advent uresome of the st II Pkytical Strength tl l'ou-tr. Hamlet, Odysseus, the -layer, lago, Mephistopheles. This is the period of youth in it> admiration of brains. IV. Wbma*W her Estenml T MM. This is also characteristic of earliest youth. Here come most of the t\p.s in Horace > Odm, in Surrey's and Wyatt's Songs ami Sonnets, Chaucer's Knighte* /'•. Lydgate's Tempil of Glas. V. Loot. Here come Romeo and Juliet, Troilus and CressiJi. VI. Human ( %armter in ami for Itself. It is only well on in life that the human for itself in its various phases, good, bad, indifferent becomes of interest. Such are the types in David Copperjield, Our Mutual Friend, and in Dickens on the whole; in Chaucer's Prologue to a degree, and in The Merchant of Venice. VII. Moral Strength, Greatness, and Purity. Here come most of the types in The Faerie Queene, Hamlet, Vision of Piers the Ploicman, Chaucer's Prologue, Ibsen's Brand, the King Arthur legends. VIII. Woman Idealized in her hig/ter Attributes. Here she is the chief source and means of inspiration, and a factor in the elevation of humanity. Here it is her woman- liness more than her attractiveness that is the theme. Examples are Imogen, Hermione, Desdemona, and Shakespeare's women on the whole. IX. Man Subject to Forces outside himself, Favorable or Adverse. Hamlet, Sordello, Macbeth, Ibsen's Kongs-Emnerne. — 12 — X. The Greatness of mere Passivity. These types are beyond the conception of most men. They find their most perfect expression in the personality of Christ and in the dictum "■Resist not evil". Example, Browning's Luria. The characters that appear in literature are a compound of a variety of these types. Thus Hamlet has in his per- sonality elements of class II, III, VII and IX. They may be presented negatively, in that they are deliberately left out, and are brought to our consciousness by contrast with their opposites. The natural way to set forth these types is by means of words. If the artist instead employs pigments, tones, marble, or stone, a reason must be sought. And if he em- ploys words, he will make use of the following elements of technique. III. The Elements of Poetical Technique. A. The direct method. I. Poetic Words. These are words that have an emo- tional value in addition to their usual logical intension. Such are glory, battlements, tingling, billow, shrill, tempest, maiden, Theseus, thrill, prairie, melody, Druids, pity, infernal, hideous, knight, reverence, Diana, moonlight, cypress, pines, silver, divine, starry, chrysolite, antelope, majestic, mist, mur- mur, hum. These words have not all acquired this suggestiveness in the same way. Many, such as tingling, shrill, melody, moonlight, starry, suggest past emotional experiences to us and to all normal persons. Knight, Druids, Diana, divine, infernal, Theseus, battlements, on the other hand, can suggest no experiences whatever that we of to-day have had with what they stand for. All that they mean to us we have acquired through books, pictures and education in general. 1 1 It is thus that Prof. Sherman in .\n>d>/ti>:< h<-s ixp.riiiu-iitiil from associational words. But this two- fold division. I tind. is not exhaustive; n<>r does it offer any means for the historical classification of these single words. It is true that all poetic words must be suggestive in one of these two ways. But many have a geographical limitation; prairie, billow are experimental or associational according as one has lived inland or by the >»-a. Many otJMH li;i\f a similar hi>torical limitation; Lui.jht, battlements, drawdnridge, though associational to us, must have be«n experimental, or perhaps even prose, to Chaucer and Langland. Still others, as pine, silver, cypress, though in tlieinstlv«s fxpt riniental words, are poetic, when poetic, by association only; experimentally they are prose. Others again contain the elements of experience and association so mixed that they belong as much to one class as the other; such are pity, beauty, maiden, honor. The majority of poetic words are nouns and adjectives. Adverbs come next in point of frequency. The interjections <>h and alas are common; and, in some passages, the pro- nouns thou and ye. Emotional verbs are very rare. Suggestive words are the most elementary of the poetic elements; they are the most spontaneous expressions of feel- ing. Ok I probably the first word uttered by a child is a poetic word. Poets vary greatly in their fondness for these single words. Certain short extracts from Shelley and Tenny- son*) have been found to contain 70 per cent, while Brown- ing's Andrea del Sarto, or Chaucer's Prologue have no more than ordinary prose. IX Phrases. These are combinations of (1) a noun with a modifying adjective, (2) a participle, adjective, or adverb with a modifying adverb, (3) two nouns in apposition. Such are every felawe, eldest lady, no more, holloic cave, ise yfrore, much glorie, swich a wo, saffron beds, Faerie Queene, Elfin Knight, riche contree : great solempnite, cristal sheeld, laurer Alastor and The Princess song closing part III. — 14 — tree, soote sugre. It is evident that these phrases are not all equally intense; indeed Prof. Sherman*) distinguishes five well defined classes as follows: — Class I. Phrases that are entirely prosaic, each word being a prose word. Evert/ felawe, eldest lady, no more are of this class. Other3 are newe jere, no wise, cheynes invisible, yonge folk, jdlke swerd, far unfitter, old dints, long tail",. Class II. The phrases of this class are poetic in con- trast to those of class I. But they are tautological in that one of the words contains in itself the emotional value of the other — though not, of course, necessarily the logical intension. This of itself materially diminishes the force these phrases would otherwise have. Instances are hollowe cave, ise yfrore, soote sugre, noble -prince, faire Venus, triumphant Mart, dragon horrible, palfrey slow, diverse doubt, durtie ground, blodie wound, my sty cloude, craggy roche, ladie dere, dovues white, paleys imperial. Here also would come such puzzling expressions as wide deep wandering of The Faerie Queene I, 2, 4 ; wandering is a metaphor and means ocean, which then, of course, is wide and deep. Class III includes phrases that contain a figure of speech, whether the phrase is clearly poetic or not. This figure may consist in a transference of the adjective from a part to the whole as in riche contree, blood roiall, fierce warres; in the employment of an adjective that properly modifies some entirely different idea as dull tong, bitter wound, great perplexite, father Nilus; or in the use of an adjective that is equivalent to a modifying genitive as guiltie secret, wandering wood, manly force. Class IV. These phrases are poetic in so far that at least one of the words is a poetic word. At the same time they are not figurative and not tautological. Such are so pitous, swich a wo, antique rolls, holy Virgin, lieben bowe, ancient hinges, hideous storme, any star, forlorne paramours, *) Analytics of Literature Chapter VIII. — 15 glistering armor, most lothsome, hideout biil. . n role, rudely falling, dtdlu stinke. Class V. We shall best understand the phnatl of this class if we observe the mental process. •> involved in det. r- miBing one — Elfin Knight for instance. Anyone rfitdinfl this phrase hurriedly or with inalert imagination would assign it to class IV because Kljin is a poetic word; the phrase is clearly not of class I, or II, or III. Still bk mind will he unsatisfied; will stick at the seemingly un- ral use of the word Eljln: he will feel that he has not done the expression justice. If he finally get any higher rience at all from the phrase, it will be because Elfin suggests a more or less extended allegorical series of kUm that set forth the knight. This phrase does not mean I knight that is small, mysterious, uncanny, or invisible at times like the elves. The word Elfin does not modify, limit, or define knight in any way, but suggests a series of allegorical notions that stand in the mind in juxtaposition to and parallel with the ideas of the knight and England. Similarly with Faerie Queene; the words do not modify each other; each suggests a train of associations that proceed independently and parallel merely illustrating each other, — Faerie, purity, brilliance, etc. etc.; Queene, Elizabeth, virginity etc. etc. Ultimately an experience evolves itself more powerful than if the phrase had been of another class. These phrases have two peculiarities; the effect is not de- pendent upon the suggestive quality of the words composing them, both of which are generally unpoetic; and the phrase at first sight seems of class I. In reality it is a potential allegory as will be shown below; see page 29. Classes II and IV of phrases convey the type from the mind of the poet to the mind of the reader by direct sug- gestion; as with poetic words only the suggested idea is given. The phrases of classes III and IV, however, are like figures of speech in that they contain both the idea to be suggested and the idea that suggests it in the same expres- sion; see page 16. A few phrases like good knight, /aire — 16 — lady, though of class IV and II respectively, may, through interminable repetition, become trite and degenerate to class I as the poem in question proceeds. The great master of phrases in English literature is Shelley. Witness the following results from the first hundred lines of Alastor: — 1 10, II 2, III 59, IV 59, V 0; total 130. As far as I know, Shakespeare and Tennyson alone make much use of those most potent phrases of class V. III. Poetic Clauses. Verbs as was said are very rarely poetic in themselves. Occasionally they may become so however in combination with a subject or object. The idea thus formed is appropriated by the imagination as a unit and the clause is a poetic clause. Such are: — The tempil was enluymed environ — Tempil of Glas, 283. Went wyde in this world — Piers Plowman, Prol. 4. I slombred in a sleping — Ibid., Prol. 10. Ther tre shal never fruyt ne leves bere — Parle- ment of Foules, 137. How would she sob and shriek — Induction, 44. And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain — Ibid., 51. IV. Poetic Phrases. If the verb in the preceding should be reduced to a participle, verbal noun, or infinitive, it would, with its accompanying noun, constitute a form midway be- tween the poetic clause and the phrase of class IV. Such instances are: — To wail and rue this world's uncertainty — In- duction, 25. His beard all hoar, his eyes hoi we and blind — Ibid., 43. Wringing his hands — Ibid., 77. V. Figures of Speech. The elements so far con- sidered, except class III and V of phrases, have been suggestive and nothing more. But if the poet not merely suggests his — 17 — fcyp*, l>nt ;it tii.- same time fath er illustrates it by MOM ■mlofjiciil t'.n -t of bii nmirnwnwt. the result is a figure of h. Thf analogy suggests itself because unconsciously to the p"«'t it present* "gle, perhaps obscure, element identical with an element of the type, so that tin* formula for all figures of speech would be: — a -f- tn -f- n *t c ' \ I i -h b -h e etc. I Where ■ idea; and a, tin- element common to both that associates them. There then two parti to every figure of speech, the type and the external analogical fact; or, we may say, the literal and the spiritual, the iilea illustrated, and the idea illustrating. There can he no more than these two parts to a true figure of speech and no less. These two elements may arrange themselves in the imagination of the poet in three ways. They must both be present, and they may either (1) be kept separate, or (2) they may be united, or (3) one may remain unstated and be left entirely to inference. No other arrangement is possible, and this gives us three great classes of figures. Now observation shows that as a man becomes more and more enthusiastic his language changes. His sentences become shorter; he tends to substitute phrases for clauses and words for phrases in expressing an equivalence of thought; he omits many conjunctions. If he be a poet and express himself largely in figures, they will vary in length with the ebb and flow of his enthusiasm. They may be expanded and declarative, with many verbs and conjunctions, or con- densed and suggestive, with much suppression of predication and few or no conjunctions. Upon this principle the three classes of figures may be subdivided into several well-defined genera, giving us the following scheme: — Class I. Figures Involving a Resemblance. Here the Peterson, A HiBtory of English Poetry. 2 — 11 analogy takes shape in the imagination of the poet and is presented to the mind of the reader, as two distinct pic- tures, thus: — a b c d e f g h i spiritual literal Where a, b, c etc. represent the elements of which the idea illustrating is composed; a, m, n etc., the elements of which the type is composed; a, the common associating element. This is the Simile. I. A. l. — Here the form of expression the poet falls into is usually definite predication for each picture with full ex- position of details. He leaves nothing to inference and trusts nothing to the reader. He says everything to the bitter end. This is the Sustained Simile, and should contain at least two predications as: — literal I ^ s ^ re ^ cne< i myself and straight my hart revives (That dread and dolour erst did so appale, • ^; J Like him that with the fervent fever strives [When sickness seeks his castle health to scale. — The Induction, 19. a = probably the stretching of fever patients. As when two rams, stir'd with ambitious pride, Fight for the rule of the rich - fleeced flocke, Their horned fronts so fierce on either side Doe meet, that, with the terror of the shocke Astonied both stand senseless as a blocke Forgetful of the hanging victory, So stood these twaine \lhe R. C. Knight and Sansfoy'] unmoved as a rocke, Both staring fierce. — Spenser, The Faerie Queene I, 2, 136. Sp. 4 lit. — 19 a = probably the bent and forward thrust heads of knighti obliging. L12. — But if tin- pod pOTMivtt the analogy with an imagination ill ad, it will oompkto ttatlf mora suddenly, though still at two dfctinet pictures: and, in ex- pressing it, he will employ a single clans.'. Tins is tin- < loan Simih, fit. I Sin- is the monsters heed ywryeu, \- tilth over - ystrawetl with floures. — Cum The Bote of the Duclutte, 628. a = probably the generally supposed dirtiness of a 'monetary hide. This l'alainonn In his fighting were as a wood leoun, Ami at a cruel tvgre was Arcite. — Thr KidgliU* Tale, 797. a wood leonn a cruel tygre fa | this Palamoun in his fighting | Arcite a = probably the expression about the mouth of a man in a rage. I. A. 3. — If the imagination of the poet be still more energetic, predication will be a hindrance to the expression of his type; and the two pictures, still separate, will be presented in a single phrase. This is the Phrase Simi/e. The predicate may be entirely suppressed, or it may be only reduced to a participle or an infinitive. [5uj5p-.] a murmuring winde [that was] much like the sowne Of swarming bees. — Spexseb, The Faerie Queene I, 1, 364. [iltitti/ir,iti, l >,. In this class, the type ami illustrative idea are BO longer kept separate in the imagination, hut are identified as in: — prescience That giltiless tormenteth innocence. — I'he Knio/itfs Tulf, 455. Ban the poet was so aroused that he saw the two ideas, a torturer tormenting an innocent Detaon, ami unshun- aable deetiny, together as one idea. The analogy was so striking that he assigned the two notions temporarily to a common genus of cruel inmponaibk beings. They appeared in hi> imagination thus: — — i V — a composite photograph. This is the Metaphor. •Wasting woes that never will aslake r ' shows these two superimposed pictures: — spiritual literal A person so thirsty, or a Continuous and wasting parched tract of land so dry, woe. that no quantity of water can ever satisfy. In "all suddenly well lessoned was my fear" the two ideas are: sp. a man overcoming fear, lit. a teacher disciplining his pupil. a = the sternness of facial expression probably. The poet identified these two ideas spiritually and hence presented them combined. They are now separate, and if — 22 — they be also presented separately thus: "Suddenly I overcame my fear as a teacher disciplines his pupils", the figure will be of class I, A. Reverse the order, use the conjunction "and" as a connective, and the figure is of class I, C. The poet did not present these two notions separately because he saw them combined; and he saw them combined because his imagination was more than usually energized for the moment through enthusiasm over some type. This class of figures is subdivided upon the same prin- ciple as class I. II. A. 1. — This form of the metaphor includes instances where the imagination of the poet remains in the state of identifying type and illustration through at least two state- ments or clauses. This is the Running Metaphor. The longe love that in my thought I harber, And in my hart doth keep his residence, Into my face preaseth with bold pretence And ther campeth displaying his baner. — Wyatt, Sonnets, I, 1. And when the sonne hath eke the dark opprest, And brought the day, it doth nothing abate The travails of mine endless smart and payn; For then, as one that hath the light in hate, — Surrey, Sonnets, I, 27. H. A. 2. — Here the imagination of the poet finishes the identification within the limits of a single clause. This is the Clause Metaphor. The fresshe beautee sleeth me sodeynly. — TJie Kniglites Tale, 260. That glorious fire it kindled in his heart. — The Faerie Queene, I. prol., 22. Add faith unto your force. — Ibid., I, 1, 162 The boke us telleth. — The Hous of Fame, 426. That unto logik hadde long y-go. — Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, 286. — 23 — II. A. 3. ll'T. th,. {„„>t express's tin- identification with- out tin- am of predication, which may be suppressed or reduced to an infinitive or participle. Tins 1^ th.- I 'In livr. Suppression of Predication: — Tlie.NtMis, the Bool <>t" chevalne — The Knightes Tale, 124. An Pretoria riche for to see — //'I./., 1" Oke, sole kiug of forests all — lite Fuerie Queeti> 1, 1,71. Japers and danglers, .ludas chyldnn. I'rolorue to Piers Plowman, 85. Ui-iliu tion <»f Predication: — Sold to iiiaviitene his iagVM - 1\t Kni-ii . 588. Making her deth their life — The Faerie Qu§m$ 1,1,224. of fair speech and thydinges And of fals and sooth compouned. — J ''he Bom of Fame, 1028. II. B. — Consider the phrase figure: — hattaille Betwixen Athtries and the Amazones. — The Knightes Tale, 22. The rhetorician would say about this figure that •Atheiu's" merely stands for "the people of Athens", and that there is nothing more to it. This really only names the mystery. It seems to me far more probable that the poet saw in his mind's eye not the people of Athens as in- dividuals, but Athens the city, as a unit really identified with one single warrior. This figure is really of class II, A, 3. Consider also the expression "Emelye clothed al in grene" of The Knightes Tale 828. That the poet could have conceived green apart from any object is impossible. If •green" means simply 'green clothes", the expression is a rhetorical turn of phrase merely, and no figure of speech at all, because the two elements common to all figures are wanting. But *green" here is a poetic word, and the poet saw in his imagination the entire green environment about Emelye. This is the illustrative idea that he identified with garments, and this figure also is of class II, A, 3. The same 24 — is true of the very common expression "clothed in hlak", where the blackness of night, perhaps, is the illustrative idea used. Contrast such an expression as "miscreated faire", Faerie Queene I, 2, 19, which is plainly no figure but merely a rhetorical device of style. These figures are those usually called metonymy and synecdoche; but we see that they are either (1) no figures of speech at all because they present no union of type and illustrative fact, or (2) they are phrase metaphors. They are rare from Langland to Spenser, and need not be considered separately, though a count of them might perhaps be made with profit in the more modern periods of the literature. Forms like "miscre- ated faire" above are of course Ill-class phrases. II C. — Here belong class III of phrases in which no hint of predication remains. Class III. Figures involving a Resemblance but the Resem- blance left to Inference. The typical figures for this class are the numerous modern expressions like "The rolling stone gathers no moss" "All is not gold that glitters", "Die Suppe wird nie so heiss gegessen wie sie gekocht ist". Let us consider the first of these examples. The person who in conversation says "A rolling stone gathers no moss" does in reality not make any statement about a stone and moss at all. His hearers do not offer the stone and moss a thought. What he does mean they should grasp, and what they do grasp, is that "a wandering youth accumulates no substance". This is what he intended to say; the illustration that came to him, and that he said instead was the fact about the stone. The two pictures or parallel series of circumstances must have presented themselves to his imagination thus: — the youth lit. the stone spir. — 25 — Hugh tlif figure were of class I - \ in nil j»ru- l>al»ilit\ is ti .»r crooked t I I slowly moving ■ton, Hut when hf comes to express this idea he does it thus: — spir. leaving the literal or illustrated half entirely unsaid. This is the Allegory, — a figure capable of two distinct inter- pretations. One thing is said and something entirely differ- ent meant. \ ir, to continue our supposed instance of the man speaking, why is it that his hearers all perfectly understand him; inter his meaning exactly; and, if the allegory be new, even get pleasure from it and perhaps applaud? The reason must lie in (1) the apropos connection, (2) convention of use, or (3) if the discourse be spoken, in the accompanying gesture or facial expression. These circumstances are then really as essential a part of the allegory as either of the other two elements that make up figures of speech; and form a third element which may be called the "interpre- tative hint". Without this, the figure could in no case be understood or appreciated. Children, or foreigners, unacquainted with the language spoken about them, are proverbially blind to the application of such figures — see only the literal side. How many children see in TJie Pilgrim's Progress, for instance, anything more than a story? In the instances of this figure given above, the inter- — 26 — pretative hint is of the second sort, convention; though in the third it was to me, when I first heard it, of the first order, the pat connection. In The Pilgrim's Progress it is the personifying of virtues. In Tlie Faerie Queene it is the Latin signification of the proper names partly, and partly the prefatory remarks of the author. In Absalom and Achi- to/'/tt'l, Tlie Tale of a Tub, Gulliver's Travels it was the apro- pos connection; a modern student will not understand a word of these pieces unless he is either thoroughly familiar with the history of those days, or is furnished with a key by somebody who is. A few illustrations may not be out of place showing how much this form of figure is used when the mind is energized. In one instance, I heard a discussion in progress concerning the value of laws. The debate had become heated; and, as the one speaker praised their impartiality, his opponent interjected "Yes, spider-webs always hold the little flies while the large ones break through". In another instance the question was raised why it is that we prefer the shorter condensed forms of tropes to the longer forms, when someone replied, ■ Why, the man accustomed to riding in an express train does not care much to travel by cart". I was reading the humorously elaborate and detailed regu- lations governing a certain bathing establishment; and, ob- serving that none were inforced, I joked the bathing master about it. "Ach ja", he replied "die Suppe wird nie so heiss gegessen wie sie gekocht ist". Such instances are of daily occurrence; anyone could think of a dozen in an hour. The allegory distinguishes itself from the metaphor by the fact that the subject and predicate are consistent — that is, the subject is not said to do anything it cannot literally perform. All parts of the allegory, in fact, are consistent with each other; the idea illustrated must not be allowed to intrude at all. Again, the allegory states only one side of the analogy; the metaphor states both. Thus, in, "The man accustomed to riding in an express train does not care much to travel by cart", only the illustrating element is — 27 — iphor would be •Why, the long figure is Um cart; tin- >l. mind of the poet or the speaker they are alike. Hence odd the literal element bo the Allegory in the presentation also, and it becomes a simile. 'The short figure of ipeoct exhilarates like travelling in an express train; the hmg one is tiresome like a joumev in a « art OUT <»hl instance in the fon of a simile. of Class I may also be easily changed to figures of Class 111. Consider the parallel given on page 20: — !Kor out of olde t'eldes as men seith Cometh al this newe corn fro v» • r to yere, ... I And out of olde hokes in good feith (Cometh al this newe science that men lere. Substitute "as" for "For" and •so" for "And" so that the illustrative force of the latter couplet be formally predi- i and the figure is a simile. Now omit the literal, state the spiritual, supply an interpretative hint, and it will be an allegory, thus: — ' doubt the talue of Why all our new corn from old books do you! year to year comes out of Interpretative Hint. old fields! The spiritual. The literal — omitted. It will now be seen that the three classes of figures are merely different channels by which the poet may express perhaps even one and the same thought. Applying our old principle of subdivision, we get the following genera under this class: — HI. A. l. — The allegory continues through at least two full periods. This is the Sustained Allegory. As instances may be mentioned The Faerie Queene, The Boke of the Duchesse, and of shorter examples Wyatt's, The louer hopeth of better chance. — 28 — III. A. 2. — The allegory is completed within the limits of one period — Periodic Allegor;/. This form is very rare. Examples: — For many a man such fire oft times he kindleth That with the blase his berd him self he singeth. — Wyatt, Of the fained frend, 6. For Rachel have I served For Lea cared I neuer And her have I reserved Within my hart foreuer. — Wyatt, The loner excuseth himself of ivords wherewith he was uniustlij charged. While Scorpio dreading Sagittarius' dart Whose bow prest bent in fight the string had slipped Down slid into the Ocean flood apart; The Bear that in the Irish seas had dipped His grisly feet with speed from thence he whipped For Thetis hasting from tbe Virgin's bed Pursued the Bear that ere she came was fled. — Sackville, The Induction, Stanza 5. III. A. 3. — Allegories that are an incomplete period, though of more than one clause in length. I have, God wot, a large feeld to ere And wayke been the oxen in my plough. — The Knightes Tale, 28. a jay Can clepen Watte as Avel as can the pope. — Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, 642. Whose praises — — — — — — — Me all to meane the sacred Muse areeds To blazon broad emongst her learned throng. — Hie Faerie Queene, I. Prol., 6. III. A. 4. — Allegories that complete themselves within the limits of a single clause — Clause Allegor)/. angry Jove an hideous storm of raine Did pour into his Lemans lap so fast. — The Faerie Queene, I, 1, 51. Whan that hiii ina with her pale li^t Was ioyned last with I'hebus in a(|iiarie. — vtk. The Tempil of Glas, 4. For str.ii, r lit after the hlaae as is no wonder Of deadly noyse heare I tbe fearful I thunder. — W i \tt, T7te louer describes his bring stricken trith the n'oht < parallel train of associations iii the tniii'l. Both parallels are suggested simultaneously l»\ the word *y<-l|>". The great master of the word- allegory in Kni;lish litera- ture is Teuii\-u!i. Witness the following from '/'/«■ ' >: — mv tat her heard and ran In on the lists and there unlaced niv ca a q oa \ >celttl*) on my body «ind on their em Is Prom the high tree the blossom wavering fell. And over them the tremulous isles of light x thej moving under >i Hut he that lav Beside us, Cyril, hattered m he was Trailed himself up on one knee. a wall of night Blot out the slope of sea from verge to floor And suck the bliuding splendor from the sands. Nor wilt thou snare him [Love] in the white ravine Nor rind him dropt upon the firths of ice That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls To roll the torrent out of dusky doors. But follow; let the torrent dance thee down To find him in the valley; let the wild Lean-headed eagles yelp alone, and leave Their monstrous ledges there to slope and spill Their thousand wreaths of dangling water - smoke. That like a broken purpose waste in air. The word - allegory is the one string on which Tenny- son harps. The mental process involved in all these forms of allegory is the same. The imagination of the reader is merely made to operate by smaller and smaller hints from the poet. The reduction in printed length does not represent the reduction but the concentration of force. We saw most clearly from *) The italics are mine. — 32 — the V - class phrase that the parallelism in the allegory is infinite. The Simile and the Metaphor present only a few definite qualities of the type to be set forth; but in the allegory the imagination carries the two parallel series of associations on and on, continually finding new points of contact, never arriving at a full conception of the type, never being satisfied. Herein lies the great superiority of the allegory as a figure of speech; it is one of the character- istics of types that they always will possess more attri- butes than can ever be conceived of. This is why we all feel the allegory to be the figure of speech par excellence. III. B. — Here come figures of speech like "Justice weighed it in her scales", "Love, that my feling astonieth with his wonderful worching." Let us analyze the former example. For "Justice" we all see at once, in our mind's eye, a large female figure probably clad in classic garb. This figure has an actual pair of scales; and the "it" that is weighed is some object, probably a scroll. There is nothing unliteral; all parts of the conception are mutually consistent; the female figure can actually weigh; the expression is not of class II. It means that exact impartial justice (with a small j) was meted out toward some deed; and we see that it is the illustrative half of a figure of class III. This is Personification. Personification differs from allegory in the broadness of the "interpretative hint" and in the fact that the same word (with changed initial letter however) is the subject of both the spiritual and literal parallel. The capital initial is an interpretative hint of the conventional sort formed from book associations; and it is the exceeding broadness of this that makes a figure of this sort so distasteful to the mature modern mind. Nothing is left for the imagination to do; the figure is thrust at you so to speak. Yet there is evident difference between "Night spread her black mantle" and "night spread her black mantle". The former is personifi- cation; the latter, metaphor. In the former the transactions go parallel through the mind, in the latter they are combined. Personification is merely an allegory that deals with persons. — 33 — This is the >iinpl»st and most primitive of all the BgOMt, I the t>ii»' Hrst used by the child, the ..uh.st artivit its imagination. Hut tor a full discussion of this point see ' iti-x of l.it,f MOM like -The trees «<|'t balm" "The < loads blushed" are so designated, apparently tor no other reason than that weeping and blushiug are human acts. I have asked many persons if they saw in their mind's eye a human being weep in the first instance and blush in the :id; and they have uniformly answered that they did not [>t as compounded, in a way. with a tree and a cloud. That has always been my experiem e with MM figures, and I believe it is the experience of all. To call a figure of speech person iuYation when even the individual so calling it does not clearly have a person in mind seems absurd. This sort of figure is metaphor. We distinguish the same classes of personification that we did of allegory. This gives us: — HE. B. 1. — Sustained Personification. m. B. 2. — Periodic Personijiratimi. HI. B. 3. — Personification of more than one Clause though not a full Period. IH. B. 4. — Clause Personification. III. B. 5. — Phrase Personification. There remain to be mentioned only those poetic appearances called Apostrophe. Here the poet either addresses some Idea or Object that he conceives as standing in some relation of actual personality to him — as in the innumerable apo- strophes to Love and Fortune. Or the object addressed may not be conceived as holding any personal relationship to the poet, as Byron's Apostrophe to the Ocean or Tell's address to his native mountains. In the first case the figure is of class III B.; in the latter, of class II. Peterson, A History of English Poetry. — 34 — These are the forms in which the figures of speech appear pure. There are some appearances of a mixed character in poetry that need mention. I. Allegory may be stated in metaphorical terms. Our old illustration a A rolling stone gathers no moss" will do for an example. "Gather" is a term that cannot be strictly applied to a stone; it presupposes voluntary selective activity. Such figures are counted in class II and III both. Another instance: — The hammer of the restless forge I wote eke how it workes. — Surrey, Description of the fickle Affections Panges and Slights of Love. II. Personification may be stated in metaphorical terms, and as such is counted in class II and III: — [Fame speaks] Blow thy trumpe and that anon, Quod she, thou Eolus I hote, And ring these folkes werkes by note That al the world may of it here. — Chaucer, The Hous of Fame, 1718. "Ring" and "al the world may here" are metaphorical. III. Personification, though beginning pure, may shade off into literal language: — Thanne come ther a king, knyghthood him ladde Might of the Comunes made him to regne And than cam kynde witte and clerkes he madde For to counseille the king and the comune save. — The Vision of Piers the Plowman, Prol., 112. The last line is literal; we have temporarily forgotten the personified figures of the first lines. IV. Personification may shade off into running meta- phor, as: — Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote The droughte of Marche hath perced to the roote And batted every veyne in swich licour Of which vertu engendred is the flour. — Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, 1. — 3 5 To Mf that the flower is engendered from the virtue ie shower is metaphor just as April pitMUg tlie drought of March to the r> • il !'• rsoniti.ation. \ AlkflCHj ,.-l\f from running Metaphor: — And whan that was fill y-spronge And woxen more on every tongue Than ev*r hit was, hit wente anoon I p to a windowe out to goon, Or but hit mighte out ther pace Hit gan to creep at some crevace And fleigh forth taste for the nones. — The Hew* of Fume, 2081. VI. Allegory and Personification with literal subject. The distinctive mark of the allegory, as we have so often seen, is the different imagined subject for the spiritual and the literal side of the analogy. But the grammntirnl subject may occasionally be the same. We have many such allegories in our common speech, as: "He would have come, if he had not had other fish to fry". Having "other fish to fry" means having other and more important matters in hand, and is allegorical. Yet the spiritual and literal subjects are identified — the distinctive mark of the metaphor. That this nevertheless is allegory is seen from the fact that the personality of the subject changes in our imagination the moment the allegorical idea of frying fish intrudes. ,He" assumes an apron perhaps or changes fittingly in some other way. That the personality of the subject changes, often remarkably, in this way the moment the allegorical notion appears is seen most clearly in the following from Wyatt's The louer excuseth himself of xcordes wherwith he was uniustbj charged: — And as I have deserved So grant me now my hire You know I never swerved You never found me Iyer For Rachel have I serued For Lea cared I neuer. 3* — 36 — Here it is the associations connected with the names "Rachel" and "Lea" that bring about the remarkable change in our mental picture of the speaker from the Elizabethan courtier to the Jew of the Old Testament. It will not do to base the distinction between Allegory and Metaphor upon grammatical differences. It is in this way that the personality of the speaker (Chaucer) in 'lhe Hous of Fame changes, espe- cially in the eagle episode of the first book. VII. Allegory and personification may occur within alle- gory and personification, and especially in these early periods where such instances are often employed to illustrate the main allegory of the poem. This is in a larger sense ana- logous to allegory stated in metaphorical terms. In The Boke of the Duchesse, the knight weeping for his dead mistress repre- sents John of Gaunt's supposed feelings at the death of the Lady Blaunche. It begins at line 444, ending at line 1310. In the middle of his speech — lines 617 to 684 — the knight launches into an account of a game of chess played by himself and Fortune. The idea conveyed here might as well have been set forth in literal language; the main allegory would not have suffered at all. And if we ignore the main allegory, looking upon the impersonal knight and his lament as per se the motive of the poem, the passage in question is not altered; it remains personification — personification within allegory. Such instances belong as well under III B. as III A. Similarly in The Vision of Piers the Plowman I, 38 — 39 and 76 — 78 "Holychirche" uses personification to illustrate her remarks merely and not in reference to any character of the poem, when it would of course be part of the main personification only. Indeed triple combinations may occur. In the same piece, passus I, line 155 (half) is a simile, occurring in an allegory (151 — 156) which is itself but in- cidental to the main personification. :57 The \1V century w eminently the century foi persointicatinns in Knglish literature. Witness th.- following from The Vision of Pier* I imm; — II. • _' V Syi •'.,- wlf ainl - OOrfl • mool i'i"v\.- with M II. 8il. And the Erldome of Knvye and Wratthe togktooi With the chastelet of chest and clateryng - out - of - resMim The count- of OOTOtlM ami tl the costes aboute. IV. IS, Anl [roooan] called catoun his knave curti>e of speche, i tlao tuinni- - tonge - telle - DM - no - tal- \ - lesyng - to - law jo - of - for - I - loved - bom - n< -And iotte my Mdo] upon suffre - tel - I • see - my - tyine." \ W. Than shallow come by a croft, but come thon noujt there - inne, That croft hat coveyte - noughte - mennes - catel - ne - her - weyves - Ne - none - of - her - servaunts - that - noyen - hem - mi >te, Loke ye breke no bowe there but if it be yowre owne. V. 592. Than shall ye see sey - soth - so - it - be - to - done - In - no - manere - elles - naughte - for - no - mannes - biddynge. Very likely William could at a pinch have conceived of the entire decalogue as a croft or something else equally allegorical. Moreover the XIII and XIV centuries were the centuries of the miracle plays and the moralities. Personi- fications and allegorical conceptions were in the air. Those were the children of the race; and the child of to-day is as — 38 — alert in figuring facts to himself allegorically. I have asked numbers of children in the schools to tell what they saw in their minds for "evening descended"; and they have uniformly seen "evening" as some being of the angelic order actually winging his way downward from on high. We of mature minds do not naturally see it thus. To them it was allegory, to us it is metaphor. Chaucer would have seen it as they did; and consequently more latitude must be given to allegory and personification in the writers of the XIV century than would be granted to instances in Tennyson or Shelley. Some cases like the following have been classed as personification where to us they would be metaphor: — thus melancholye And drede I have for to dye Defaute of slepe and hevinesse Have sleyn ray spirit of quiknesse. — The Boke of the Duchesse, 23. The blood was fled for pure drede Down to his hert to make hit warm, For well hit feled the hert hadde harm, To wyte eek why hit was a-drad By kynde, and for to make hit glad. — Ibid., 490. For so astonied and asweved Was every vertu in myn heved What with his sours and with my drede That al ray feling gan to dede. — The Hous of Fame, 549. It is plain that Chaucer in his mind's eye saw Defaute - of - Slepe, Hevinesse, Drede - I - have - for - to - deye, the blood, as personifications of some sort. The Boke of tlie Duchesse and The Hous of Fame are the only pieces that present such anomalies. VI. Associated Types. — But the illustrative fact of environment may be combined with the type to be set forth without making a figure of speech. It need only be placed in juxtaposition to the type, when the illustrative bearing 3'.» will at QMfe bt strikingly felt, though the form be perfect 1\ literal, as: — Bt | the Honk] was a \ord nil /<>( and in good p o int , — >gu9 to The Cauterhun/ Tolm, 200. Hon tin- illustration suggested by the words in italics of course, the well-conditioned swine. In And gadrede us together al in a flok. — Ihid., 82 I tlic illustration brought to bear is a flock of good-natured, helpless, and dazed sheep or geese. As in painting, a character- istic phase of environment may be made to do duty in the same illustrative way as: — the high doors We re softly sundered, and through these a youth Pelleas and the sweet smell of the fields Passed, and the sunshine came along with him. — moa, PoUtat nii'l Ettarre. Browning, Sonlello, 387—429. In all these instances something typical in the world outside the ego is directly brought into association with the type to be delineated for the sake of the illustrative force it may have, aud may consequently be called an Associated Typo. The excellence of this poetic element lies in the fact that, like the allegory, it does not set forth a few character- istics of the type in hand, but sets trains of associations in motion. VII. Tone Colors. — Here the type is suggested, not through the meaning of the words, but by their sounds. Having once had a pleasant or an unpleasant experience in which the chief element was sound, such as the hoot by night of an owl in a wood, the shrieking of the wintry wind, the groans of a dying man, the ripple of an alpine brook, the occurrence of this element alone in poetry is sufficient to start a train of associations that recall the original experience. Such sounds are: — (1) of pleasant associations, e, i, 11, er, ir, a, a, m, n. (2) of unpleasant ones oo, u, ii, ar. — 40 — The only instance in the period from Langland to Spenser where this element is employed is the following four lines from The Faerie Queene: — And more to \ulle him in his slumber soft A trickling stream from high rocke tumbling downe And ever drizling raine upon the loft Mixt with a murmuring winde much like the sowne Of swarming bees. — Book I, 361. I add two more examples taken from those given by Professor Sherman.*) Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells. What a world of merriment their melody foretells. How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle In the icy air of night, While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight. — Poe, 77ie Bells. But see his eyeballs Staring full ghastly like a strangled man His hair upreared his nostrils stretched with straggling His hands abroad displayed, as one that grasped And tagged for life, and was by strength subdued. Shakespeare, II King Henry IV, III. 2. VIII. Rhythm and Rhyme. — It has been found that in ten-syllable lines the accents fall well - nigh exclusively upon either the fourth, eighth, and tenth syllable or the sixth and tenth of each line, as in the following: — I am to bold, tis not to me* she speaks 4, 8, 10. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven 6, 10. Having some business do in treat her eyes 4, 8, 10. To twinkle in their spheres till they return 6, 10. What if her eyes were there; they, in her head, 4, 6, 7, 10. The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars 6, 8, 10. As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven 6, 10. Would through the aery region stream so bright 6, 10. *) Analytics of Literature, page 26. — 41 — Thai birds would >ing and think it w.-n- not night I. 8, 1" now ftbfl leaiM lM> oMek upon her liiiiil 6, 10. 0, that I were a ghSve upon that hand 6,10. That 1 might touch that cheek! 4, 6. kkspkark, Romeo >//«/ Juliet, II, J, 14. In the above the rhythmic accent corresponds with kh« accent of sense; and, in so fur, perfection of rhythm is of \alue because it M gge a t l power. DMMtax and warrants us in expecting enmothing greater to come. But neither rhyme nor rhythm aids in the setting forth of types, and as such •r elements etrietrj -peaking. That they give pleaaare is anqneetioped, though both rhyme and etanaa form have been found useless in our best poetry. As Professor Sherman truly says, "The soul of man if acquainted with nothing nobler may get pleasure, as with the Indian, from even a feather or a shell". It is by means of these elements of technique that the poet strives to place his type before us. His one object is to set this type forth in a full, rounded way exactly as he has it before him in his mind. He employs all the resources of suggestion, association, phrases, and figures to this end. To convey, so to speak, what he has in his mind to the mind of the reader; to describe exactly all that he sees in his imagination, in its various phases and bearings, with out loss of definiteness, together with his personal attitude toward it of hatred or love is his sole aim. This is the direct or sympathetic method and the great masters of it in English literature are Tennyson and Shelley. But there is another method, and the poet employs this as soon as his ideals become so high and his feeling so strong that he realizes the futility of all attempts at ex- pression. A man in an agony of mere physical pain may cry out, may groan, may tear his hair. But there often comes a time of absolute quiet — when silence is much more eloquent. The South has always set forth such ideals as it possessed with volubility. The North has felt that the greatest can not be expressed. — 42 — B. The Indirect Method. IX. Effects. — I once knew a man that had a son some six years old. One day the father came up to me in the greatest enthusiasm, and said, "I tell you, my boy is the greatest fellow! You just ought to hear him 'cuss' his mother once". I have made no labored description of the man, have employed no poetic words, phrases, associations, or figures of speech in an attempt to convey a notion of him. Yet the type of man is definite and sharp. In the Inferno Dante does not aim to convey a notion of how hot hell is by an accumulation of poetic comparisons. He merely says that he was so hot — so hot — that he cast a red shadow*) In Beowulf, when Hre/>el the king has lost his eldest son and heir, the poet does not say that he tore his hair, or that his sorrow stuck in his throat, but that his house and the fields seemed to him altogether too large now.**) When Beowulf and his warriors are waiting at night in Heorot for the attack of Grendel, the poet does not de- scribe Beowulf s watchfulness for his men, his great feeling of responsibility as their leader, his nerving himself for the struggle. But he says 'The warriors that were to hold that hall adorned with antlers slept — all but one."***) In Hamlet, before presenting the prince to us, Shake- speare spends no words of description upon him — merely has his name mentioned. But in the midst of a court festiv- ity, of the scarlet and white of royalty Hamlet appears in black. Instances could be multiplied ad infinitum. We shall best understand the mental processes here involved if we analyze one of the above instances. (1) Hamlet *) This instance is given in the Analytics of Literature p. 130. **) Jjiihte him eall to rum wongas and wic-stede. 1. 2462. ***) Sceotend swsefon Jj% J>sst horn-reced healdon scoldon ealle huton anum. 1. 704. — 43 — appeared in Mack for two reasons; he mourned for his father end wished t | rebuke t<> his uncle. < '< >iir his father and hatred of his uncle's smallness were the causes; his appearing in black, the I ) Thee* < ha nut eristics of filial love and hatred of littleness are only two of an unlimited number of elements that together con- stitute our ideal of human chararter. These elements are nimicctnl liv *berO linings" -association in such a wa\ ttuit wht'n one is suggested the others follow. Now (8) when irt st't* Hamlet in Mark, and after our mind has for a while uiuutisriou>lv grappled with the phenomenon in an attempt t.> understand it, the imagination suddenly, by a process of inductive inference, sees the one cause, and almost simultane - ouslv the other. Instantly the train of associations is started and in a flash our type of character is before us visibly em- bodied in Hamlet. (4) This train of associations is never ended because, as we have so often seen, the number of elements that compose our type is greater than we can ever know. The imagination goes on and on, higher and higher, never com- pleting the ideal, never coming to rest. For this reason this is the most effective of all the poetic elements. Here is where poetry and music touch. This is the indirect or interpretative method — the method by "effects". The inductive process involved here was discovered by Professor Sherman in Shakespeare and first set forth in a general way in Analytic* of Literature, chapter XIII. He distinguishes two kinds of effects — those described above, and Negative Effects. A negative effect may be defined as an effect from which the imagination infers first the cause, of course, and then a type, which latter, however, is the direct opposite of what the mind had been expecting from previous knowledge would appear. Thus, if we see a tramp perform a minor heroic act, we are much more struck therewith than if a nicely dressed gentleman had done it. This is the more powerful of the two varieties of effects and is, as the professor has shown, practically the only poetic element made use of in Othello. — 44 — These two kinds of effects may be called Dramatic Effects because the individual to be portrayed appears through them in his propria persona — the effects are not related of him. The great masters of this poetic element in English literature are Shakespeare and Browning, and now we see why neither deals much in poetic words. See page 13. Examples: — Hamlet IV, 1. Effects in brackets. Cause, desire to work on King There's matter in [these sighs: TT . ™, g * ee ln " s * l © Hamlets favor. these profound heaves] Ty/*,motherly love, solici- tude, etc. You must translate; 'tis fit we under- stand them. Cause, instant inference thatHamletis thecause. [Where is your son?] r «P«» Tearfulness of H., general uneasiness, cow- ardice. Cause, desire to work upon Queen. [ Bestow this place on us a little the kin S b ^ an assumin S while. -] of mystery. J i-iJl>e, as above. [Ah, my good lord, what have I seen Came and Type a8above . to - night!] King. [What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?] Cause, Falsehood to work on the king's feelings. Queen. [Mad as the sea and wind, when Ty ^ a woman morally both contend loose though an anxious Cause and Type as above. mother. Cause and type as above. Which is the mightier] ; in his [lawless fit,] Behind the arras hearing something stir, Whips out his rapier, cries, "A rat, a rat!" And in his [brainish apprehension] kills Cause and type as above. [The unseen good old man.] Cause and type as above. King. heavy deed! — 45 — OnMne, F«ur of Hamlet. | It had been s<> with us, had we been Type, a king fearful of 1 1 1 ,• re • I everything because of a bad conscience. His lil»crt\ is full of threats to all, m, as above. Instinct- ive effort to strengthen - It, | to us, to every one. n j, ,^ e Type, at above. | Alas, how shall this bloody deed be Cause, fear of the public. answer'd: Type, aa above. It will be laid to us,] whose providence Shodd have kept short, restraint, and out of haunt, ! This mad young man:] but |so much was our love, Came, Instinctive effort to make himself be- lieve he is justified in proceeding against Hamlet. Tyjie, as above. We would not understand what was most tit. | But, like the owner of a foul disease, To keep it from divulging, let it feed Even on the pith of life. [Where is Cause. Fear of Hamlet, he gone?] Type, as above. 'j. To draw apart the body he hath kill'd; O'er whom [his very madness,] like Came ' Falsification to work on the king. Type, motherlines8. Among a mineral of metals base, Shows itself pure. [He weeps for what Cause and type as before. is done.] Compare IV, 2, 1. King. 0, Gertrude come away! [The sun no sooner shall the moun- Ca ™\ De8ire t0 get Hamlet away as soon tains touch, as p08gible _ fear But we will ship him hence] : and this vile deed T ^' as above ' W e must, with all our majesty and skill, — 46 — Both countenance and excuse. — Ho, Guildenstern ! Friends both, go [join you with some ^^j* 8 ™ 01 " 11 fear ° f ^ further aid;] Type ^ cowardice beca use ^ c - of an evil conscience. Here then are nineteen effects in thirty - three lines, all focussed upon two types — the Queen, morally flabby but to a degree ennobled by her motherly love and solicitude, the king with a bad conscience and, consequently, unreasonable fear and unrest. In Act 1, Scene 1 of the play there are twenty - three effects in the first forty lines. I have no statis- tics, but it is my opinion that there are more effects in Hamlet and Macbeth than in the entire Elizabethan Drama outside of Shakespeare. III. Narrative Effects. But there are other kinds of effects. In Shakespeare's effects the character is presented at first hand, in his propria persona, without the intervention of the author. Narrative effects are such as are related of the character like those instanced from Biowulf. Though having no figures, I think I may say that there are more of these two sorts of effects in Biowulf than in all other English poetry before Shakespeare, omitting Chaucer's Prologue; and that consequently Beowulf is the greatest poem in English literature before Shakespeare, with the exception mentioned. This is practically the only element employed by Chaucer in his Prologue, as witness: — And thereon hung a broch of gold ful shene On which there was first writ a crowned A And after Amor vincit omnia. — 1, 162. Type, worldly mincled- ness etc. etc. ol the Prioress. A fat swan loved he best of any roost. — 206. A bokeler hadde he maad him of a cake Epicureanism and worldliness of the Monk. " Type, Buffoonery etc. etc. of the Somnour. IV. The fourth variety of effects are Effects from Environment. If I walk along the street and see a house 47 with ■ dooryard full of broken bricks, tlu> fence down in dImh, the pate off its hinges, an old sock stuifed into ■ broken window - pane, 1 know the character of the inhabit kbt type — as perfectly as though 1 had been acquainted with him for years. These elements in his environment are ts; his shiftlessness is the cause; and the type of man l* instanth known. This element i^ nuiiiiion in the best modem English fiction. \ Effects from Emphasis. In the following passage. the words in italics have emphasis: — I am thy j'-it/itr's spirit Doomd for a certain term to walk the night d for the day conHit'il to fast in fires Till the foul crime* done in my day of nature \v<- burnt and purged MMA/. Hut that I am fort-id To till the secret of my prison-house, I could a tab- unfold whose lightest word Would harroic up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars, start from their spheres Thi/ knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand an end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood, List, list, 0, listl If thou didst ever thy dear father love — 68°/ . Shakespeake, Hamlet I, 5, 9. Head this declaration at the head of the army, even/ ■ncord will be drawn from its scabbard and the sobunn vow uttered to maintain it or to perish on the bed of honor. Take it to the public halls, proclaim it there, and the very walls will cry out in its support. — 50°/ . Webster. Twas summer and the sun had mounted high Southward the landscape indistinctly glared Through a pale steam; but all the northern downs In clearest air ascending, showed far off — 48 — A surface dappled o'er with shadows flung From brooding clouds; shadows that lay in sjiots Determined and unmoved, with steady beams Of bright and pleasant sunshine interposed. — 34°/ . Wordswokth, lite Excursion I, 1 — 8. Prof. Sherman has shown that ordinarily adjectives before nouns, adverbs before verbs do not have any accent; the object of a verb, not the verb is emphasized, and in phrases the substantive only.*) In the first two extracts given, adjectives, adverbs, nouns, verbs, and even pronouns carry emphasis. These selections have respectively sixty-eight and fifty per cent emphatic words. The last of the three is in a tone of ordinary dis- course, while in in the first two the speaker was much im- passioned. Now if a man is laboring under strong feeling, is im- passioned and energetic, we learn this from a number of facts, — his facial expression, his attitude of uprightness, his gesture, the great number of emphasized words in his speech, the tone - qualities of his voice. These elements are effects; the strong feeling he is under, the cause. They are united by "beruhrungs"- association in the usual way so that the occurrence of one suggests the others. The numerousness of the emphatic words is the only one of them that may be given us on the printed page. When we notice it the others at once follow, and the type of the forceful impassioned man, laboring under excitement, comes into being in our minds. These then are the elements of technique in poetry — the means whereby the poet makes us see and feel the types he has in his mind. We have seen that they are used by us all in our daily intercourse, given the conditions. May we not say that there is nothing in poetry, literature, art that there is not in common life? It now remains to arrange these elements in some order of relative value. Certain principles of classification *) Analytics of Literature, Chapters IV and XXVII. 49 have aln-iulv rom tin- preceding. (1) The :s word allegory and fifth class phrase will occupy on end of the series. (2) The sustained and periodic turn; the figures of speech will Um other. (:?) The elements dependent upon association purely will hold the intermediate p'Mtion. (4) The figures will rank among themselves Allegon. Metaphor. Simile. P orio n ifltn ti OD (. r >) The tonus of each figure will rank according to length. (»»| The elements that trains of association, those that suggest, and those that predicate being of different categories, a perfectly exact lineal arrangement will he impossible. following then quite accurately represents the relatn . value of the elements: — 1. Negative Effects. J. Dramatic Effects. Word Allegory. 4. Narrative Effects. 5. Phrases Class V. 6. Effects from Emphasis. 7. Environment Effects. 8. Phrase Allegory. 9. Associated Types. 10. Tone-Colors. 11. Phrases Class IV. 12. Phrases Class III. 13. Clause Allegory. 14. Allegory of more than one Clause. 15. Periodic Allegory. 16. Phrases Class II. 17. Poetic Phrases. 18. Phrase Metaphor. 19. Clause Metaphor. 20. Poetic Clauses. 21. Phrase Simile. 22. Clause Simile. 23. Comparison. 24. Sustained Allegory. Peterson, A History of English Poetry. 4 — 50 — 25. Parallel. 26. Phrase Personification. 27. Clause Personification. 28. Running Metaphor. 29. Sustained Simile. 30. Personification of more than one Clause. 31. Periodic Personification. 32. Sustained Personification. 33. Phrases Class I. Poetic Words have been omitted because they are not exclusively reckoned. The words composing the phrases of Class II and IV would thus have been counted twice. IV. The Development of English Poetry from Langland to Spenser. In the period from Langland to Spenser, the following poems were selected as representative and the number of each poetic element was determined for them severally. I. Langland: The Vision concerning Piers the Plowman. Text B., Skeat, Oxford 1888. II. Chaucer: The Boke of the Duchesse. III. Chaucer: The Parlement of Foules. IV. Chaucer: The Hous of Fame. V. Chaucer: The Knightes Tale. VI. Chaucer: The Prologue to The Canterbury Tales. VII. Lydgate: The Tempil of Glas. , VIII. Surrey: Songs and Sonnets. IX. Wyatt: Songs and Sonnets. X. Sackville: The Induction to the Mirrour for Magistrates. XI. Spenser: The Faerie Queene. From The Vision concerning Piers the Plowman the prologue and passus I — III were taken; from The Faerie — 51 — ■ ne, the first two i -antos; from Tl* Tmpik of GLi$$ and tin* Songt and Sonnets of Surrey and Wyatt, one thousand lines each. The other pieces were worked through rutin-. The basis of comparison was taken as one thousand -\ liable lims; or an equivalent amount. The lines of < o, - O 3 5 £ 8° 3 P- V. Knightes Tale VI. Prologue VII. Tempi 1 of Glas VIII. Surrey's Sonnets IX. Wyatt's Sonnets \ Induction XI. Faorie Queene III. Parlement of Foules IV. Hous of Fame I. Piers Plowman II. 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Z p»«!«jms i — co CO ~ a ~ db co ec qo ■"*•-* r. o» o Mvqd - O oo— rcrc; — o o ••••ID 00 c t-t-oe«Mao-*»N "- — ; "" its no tr»m aioff -T -1 00 -ii-:: z -NiO — od^ "* ~°° o DlpOlJSJ O t~ * 5 M R 5 - .= 3 r- — O D © s - ® 09" © D x oc D ■4-s k^ r^ v "".r. *ri oc ti, O — i 9 b 5 5 S t: s s .3" o a £ >v^ <= s _ iocs--,-c>Xio- 5 ^^^g|a^«g — 56 — best kept separate. Compare page 10. The tables will be found suggestive and are self-explanatory. A few inter- pretative remarks, however, may not be out of place. The totals of table IV for The Vision of Piers the Plowman, The Hous of Fame, The Parlement of Foules reveal (1) the pre-eminence of personification and allegory in the poetry of this early period. The stage plays also, such as they were, were entirely or in part sustained personifications. These were the children of the race; and, as has been shown, the favorite figure of the child to - day is personification. To them as to the child everything took on a human form. These figures, decreasing gradually in frequency, have dis- appeared entirely from modern poetry, and would be very disagreeable to present taste. (2) The sustained allegory when used was incidental as shown by the occurrence of several in the same poem. It is an embellishment and not like The Faerie Queene the motive of the work per se on which the deeper significance was built up. Such use of the allegory required the imagination of a Spenser. (3) The sustained forms of figure prevail over the other forms, and this is again the mark of the child -mind. The poet had no confidence in the reader's intuition. His imagination was incapable of conceiving analogies in a flash; his illustrative material unfolded itself slowly and naively. And if it had not, the reader would not have been able to follow him; the age was not one of mental agility. These forms of figure, to us so disagreeable because they retard the imagi- nation, were to them the figure par excellence because they helped it on. It is out of them that the clause phrase and word forms of the present day have been evolved. (4) Con- versely, and for the same reasons, the clause, phrase, and word allegory, the V - class phrase, effects, tone - colors, asso- ciated types, environment, without which there can be no great modern poem, were then finding their first feeble be- ginnings. (5) The poetical absence of effects shows that our first poetry was mainly of the subjective sympathetic order. This is what Ave would expect. Poetry of the objective — mtt'i|.r.tati\r tori pivMippoees a certain doubleness of paw itv in the writer ami this is found only where there is gonini of a high order. Chaucer's ftaffljOM alone is of this class. (6) The types u.f of two lOrtt. The pOMM chosen are either love poems — class IV — or mora] dteqoi- Dl with implied exhortation* to betterment. This latter rarittg ■ hi itself ot a high order essentially as high M the types in three -fourths of Knglish poetry. Love m the sense of a Romeo and Juliet; the finer — nay even the grosser — difference! in human rhar.it iter; women like Imogen and Bermione; Fate; the greatness of a Luria, were as ret inconceivable. Let us now consider in what particulars these - .-. -\. i ally show advance upon these general conditions. Tkt Pteico tometmmg IHers the Plowman seems to be the best type of XIV -century poetry that we have. In technique it ie primitive, being such a labyrinth of personi- fication and incidental sustained allegory as it is. And the practical absence of the clause, phrase, and word forms of these figures as of the V - class phrase, effects, associated types, tone -colors, poetic clauses and phrases is significant of much more. The thirty - three effects show a dramatic spirit running through it that might have developed into something better had Langland possessed genius for poetic expression. As it is they are lost in the 662 lines of sustained personi- fication per 1000. A glance at the results from Chaucer's Prologue will show how impossible a comparison of the two poems in technique is. The Vision is poor and rudi- mentary in this respect even when measured by what its own century produced. But it is in his types that William is great. He had a deep and sincere wish for a purer social life. He agonized over the impiety and corruption of his day; and this is making the Vision of Piers Plowman ever more and more of interest to us moderns. We, in spirit at least, overlook discrepancies of form if the content is of value. Piers is a figure worthy the best modern story - writing. With "Holy- cherche", "Conscience", "Trewthe", "Feith" he rises to class VII — 58 of types, standing on the same plane with the Persoun and the Plowman of Chaucer's Prologue. These types are posi- tive; but the types of rectitude, suggested negatively by "Meed", "Cyvile", "Symonye", "Glotoun" and so forth, are not inferior. William, no less than Chaucer, meant well; but his powers of poetical expression were conditioned by the age be lived in. Still this is a limitation only from our point of view, and was perhaps in itself fortunate. There is a sort of genius that consists in being at all points in touch with one's age no less than in being ahead of it. Langland did not write above the people he lived among. His imagination was slow and methodical like the mind of his fellows. He wrote in the same round - about allegorical way that his companions thought. This made his poem much more popular than Chaucer's Prologue became, and of much more influence for good. When Chaucer came to write he took what he found ready to his hand in the way of methods. The Boke of the Duchesse is clearly of the XIV century; and yet it shows some advance on the standards set by the Piers Plowman, — only one - sixth as much personification. But, what is more especially a mark of advancement, the 866 lines of sustained allegory, like the 938 lines of the Faerie Queene, are not illustrative and incidental but in themselves the subject of the poem. Again there are twice as many IV - and III -class phrases as Langland used; and this points to a greater freedom of expression or, what is the same, greater mental energy. The types rise to class VIII, a height they were not again to reach before Spenser. If these results be compared with the totals for The Hous of Fame and The Parlement of Foulea a retrogression to previous standards is apparent. When he wrote the Boke of the Duchesse Chaucer was stirred; his mind was more energized than in his two next following works. A reason for this can of course be only speculative: Is it im- possible that in singing the sorrow of Lancaster for the — 59 — Luis Blanche, he was at the same time pouring out his vrn«t for the loss of his own early h>\ ■ Huwever that be, Chaucer descends to the common level in his next work. The fJou* <•/' Fame shows sustained per- sonification fully rampant once more. Sustained allegory is incidental only. The running metaphors increase in length. Kffects. fourth and second class phrases become rare. The typM are only of class III and IV. Chaucer seemed to be animated by no feeling other than a desire to put into English verse what he had been reading in Dante and Vergil. The companion piece, the Parlement of Foulet, resembles The hum, in only one of these particulars — the high proportion of personification. There is less allegory, more metaphor, twice as many IV-, III-. II -class phrases. This increase in metaphor places it nearer 7 he Knightes /"/■ where metaphor is the chief figure. But the dramatic strain represented in '/'he Bokt of the Duehesse by 8 effects, and in The Hou$ of Fame by 9 is represented in The Parlement of Faults by 40. This strongly suggests the Prologue, and the types thus set forth not the less in that they are of class VI — human character fey its own sake in all its humorousness. The ParUment of Foules, no more than its companion piece, seems to have been written from any strong impulse, and yet it is aesthetically the superior. But this means that Chaucer when he wrote the former had acquired higher types and attained to greater skill than when he wrote the latter; and I am led to believe that The Hous of Fame is the earlier of these two poems. The tables show three well - marked periods in the development of Chaucer's technique, characterized by the prevalence respectively of allegory and personification, meta- phor, and effects. The cumbrous illustrative material of the three poems we have so far considered show him but slightly different from his contemporaries. He was not yet finding these sustained figures of Class III a hinderance to expression. But with The Knightes Tale his genius is beginning to im- prove on the methods of his day. Here he is instinctively 60 avoiding personification and allegory, and makes the metaphor his chief element — 478 lines as against 225. This personification and allegory is mainly confined to certain particular passages as the following arrangement by hundreds will show: — l»t hund. 2d , 3 d . 4 th 5th r 6«» , 7th „ Nth 9th „ 10th „ 11 th . I\ A. 3.5 2 5.5 1 2 5.5 1.5 1 2 4 9.5 6.5 2 1 6 8 22 6.5 12th hund. 13th , 14th u 15th „ 16th , 17th „ 18th t 19th „ 20th „ 21th „ 22th , P. A. 58 17 12 2 1 1.5 4 30 5 It will be seen that five-sevenths of the total personifi- cation and allegory occurs in the 11th, 12th and 22d hundred, or. more exactly, in three passages, lines 1060 — 1077, 1117 — 1172, and 2129 — 2158. If Chaucer rewrote his early poem of Palamon and Arcite to make the tale for his knight, he must have left these passages very nearly as they were. They are entirely in the old manner, while the Tale as a whole is not. But the dramatic spirit pervading The Parlement of Foules is absent here. This gave promise that our poet would be of the interpretative school. But here there are practically no effects; and, as a consequence, the IV-, III-, and II-class phrases increase in number, the unpoetic phrases of class I fall, and poetic words for the first time appear in fair quantity. This is significant of a change; Chaucer has become one of the direct sympathetic poets of the class to which Spenser belongs. The Knightes Tale deals but little with human character, shows us nothing of human life — is rather a spontaneous and immediate outburst of poetry, with no object beyond the telling of a story. And its weakness hi u this tact, that it i^ such a pOMD without tin- QM oi V-class phrases, word - allegories, and tiuit* - color-. Tabid II and IV show better than words the at BCfiod in his development as a poet: his chief element is the effect — ISO as against 40 in I he BarUmml >•/ Fputet, This gnificanl of two things: In tin- first place, we saw from The Knigkte* Tmlt that Chaucer as a subjective poet weak. This he seems unconscn.u«.I\ to have felt, or at least his genius seems to have sought, and at last fouml. an outlet in the other direction. In the Prologmi he has gone over completely to the ranks of the itit* rpretative poets whither he WM already tending in the f'i,i.nt of Foules. Hence the principal direct elements are all absent, even to the poetic words. Secondly, this change is in a sense a retro- -ion. The dramatic touches of The I'nrlement of FbuUt are not to be found here. Life has dulled the poet's enthu- siasm; and if he writes of men now it is as a narrator; his effects are all narrative. It is in their choice of subject matter, that Chaucer in the / and Langland stand together. Both hated the corruption and hypocrisy of the age. Both, and indeed all earnest men of that day, were animated by the same desire for social and political reform. The types of both rise to class VII. Both present these types in part negatively in portraying men and women as they ought not to be. But while Langland found in the humble tiller of the soil alone the mainstay of England, Chaucer, with his broader vision, saw in the country parson and the knight some additional grounds for hope. Moreover Chaucer is the first poet in English literature whose development of types did not pass over class VI. It is the subtle analysis of human character that makes the subject - matter of the Prologue great. In technique, on the other hand, the two poets are complemen- — 62 — tary. Each makes use of those elements that the other avoids. Langland's mind was in no particular different from the spirit of his time. Chaucer in his Prologue has nothing in common with the XIV century, but has passed over ahead into the sixteenth. The tables show this advance also. In the Prologue the word allegory — Tennyson's favorite element — the phrase allegory, and the associated type for the first and only time before Spenser appear. But it is the effects that are significant here also; and it will be seen that of these Chaucer employs twice as many as all the other writings of the XIV and XV century together that have been ex- amined. In this use of effects he was to find no equal before Shakespeare. This use of effects however is significant for an entirely different reason. We have seen that they are used in Beo- wulf and are of great frequency in Shakespeare. On the other hand there are none in books I — III of the Aeneid*) The English are a Germanic people. The Anglo - Saxons have furnished whatever of sterling worth there is in the national character of England. The spirit of Anglo-Saxon poetry as expressed in the effects of Beowulf is what has made English poetry great. In the Prologue, Chaucer is at last English, and not merely in the fact that he has left his French, Italian and Latin sources and writes of English types; the Prologue is English in its very construction. Effects are the substratum on which our poetry rests. It has made but three outcrops in the course of our literature. Chaucer's Prologue was the first; the other two are Shake- speare and Browning. English poetry has been greatest only when it has been true to the spirit of its fathers. But the Prologue was a .voice crying in the wilderness. Two centuries were to elapse before the word - allegory, the effect, the associated type, with all they signify of mental *) I do not believe there are any in the nine remaining books nor in the Iliad. — 63 — irth, uti tM "iice more important elements in i^li |Hnin. It Lydgate leaned \u< art from Chancer, In- certainly did not acquire it from the {VolPjM* Chaucer's Li-t ^ii;it work htl not been imitated, and was, we may tappoee, tor centuries not fully appreciated. After it the old superficial subject- matter of class IV, and the old tire- •OBM technique again catne to tlie fore. From Chaucer to Spenser there was not a poet of the first or second grade that wrote Knglish. A glance at table II will show this: The J fnifil 9/ Qla» contains no V- class phrase, no effect, do word -allegory, no associated type, no tone-color, and hi in Ml lines of running metaphor per 1000. On the other hand it is to a degree redeemed by the circumstance that it avoids personification and holds fast to a single allegory for 989 consecutive lines, not employing the sustained form of this figure as an embellishment. Measured by our >tandard, Lydgate "as but a poor poet. Yet he was neither behind nor ahead of his age; and after all he was a poet - shown by the 406 poetic words he uses per thonsand lines. But if The Tempil of Glas is without technique it is also without subject-matter, and this is a graver fault Langland was as bad as Lydgate in execution if not worse. But J he I 'ision of Piers Plowman is redeemed by its sincere wish for piety and rectitude. The XV century seemed to be without ideals. Surrey and Wyatt like Lydgate wrote of women and love, but in the old superficial way. Their ideals rose no higher than to types of class IV. But in technique they show some progress. We saw that Chaucer advanced from the figures of class III through metaphor to language that was largely literal. Surrey and Wyatt seem to mark the second of these periods in the development of the literature; each uses twice as much metaphor as any other of our seven authors, virtually no allegory and not overmuch of personification. This gives a certain correctness and finish, a certain modern air to their work. But their limitations are evident. In the first place the complete absence of the — 64 — indirect elements bars them out from the ranks of the objec- tive poets. Secondly, they were not writers of the subjec- tive sort either, with any claim to rank, as the absence of the concentrated direct elements shows. Their imagination lacked vividness and strength. Their work marks the highest point which the sort of poetry that relies on figures alone can reach. Between the two poets there is virtually no difference. Surrey is the superior in thirteen of the poetic elements; Wyatt, in nine. Wyatt inclines more to personification, but this is offset by Surrey's greater partiality for allegory. Surrey shows superior skill in the use of poetic words, III- and IV- class phrases, had a finer imagination; and, we may perhaps say, was the superior of the two. The striking circumstance about The Induction is that it reveals more personification per thousand lines and, at the same time, more poetic words, phrases and clauses, more II-, III-, and IV -class phrases than any poem that had preceded it. It shows a retrogression in the former par- ticular to the poetry of Langland, and in the latter reminds us of Spenser. Sackville stands on the dividing line between the old and the new. He was the first to feel the spirit of the coming revival; his poetry, like the verse of the Elizabethan era, was to a degree spontaneous and unlabored in the use of the shorter poetic elements. His imagination was uncon- sciously seeking a more immediate form of expression than established canons permitted. But he lacked genius sufficient to break consciously with his age. Hence the labored per- sonification and semi-mythical subject-matter, both of which are of the XV century. The Induction marks the transition in English Literature from Mediaevalism to the Renascence. With Spenser the Renascence began. The causes that fired men's minds lie outside of literature; but this new mental energy found its first expression in the formation of new ideals; Spenser's subject-matter is of class VIII — the first time since the Boke of the Duchesse. He is also ani- mated by the same types of rectitude that animated Chaucer — 65 — 1. midland, that always have animated BMB in periods of il, ami that had been foreign to men's minds for two tcnturitv Thirdly he shows progress in setting these types forth. The mental agility of the times was incompatible with sustained personification, and incidental allegory, and rdmgly we find none in The Faerie Queene. Moreover Spenser was a poet of the sympathetic school. His untram- melled ebullitions of spirit, his natural joy fulness found their expression in the shorter spontaneous elements of the direr j ; the tables show but few effects. A glance at table II will show this vivacity of the Renascence better than words. The word-allegory again appears, and \ -class phrases and tone -colors for the first time. Three times as many IV- class phrases, are found, and twice as many of class III and 11 as Chaucer at his best in his subjective period could use. But the question that comes to every student of liter- ature is: How does Shakespeare write; what results does he show; how does he compare with his predecessors and con- temporaries? It seemed well to close this first period in our investigations with an examination of the Venus amd A»*nv ■•■iws t« «^-oo« ri 1— Cm : 0* *• ©jao — — f •1W8 ••■•H «t oj •11*18 ••"".d U •-• •ft om©» Cm »<0 ■* ©» 00 »»«»»io •!»•«>* o« p* co .7 :n-:i:if f r: tC co 00 " eo r-' ** ^ w* joqd*>«N Nit|3 •$! 1—' «o t>-ao-*XC"»^©»'ooo CO joqd*}*K ••«Jqd «l — 1- — -^ 7 1 -"I--- 00 — — Cm -< -* -T <«« 5 •*•*•<« *»*>& *il — M II m«io umiy -»x X CM 5 _ _ xjoa*nv aipou*j si ^" <* 0: •* ■«• — O* mo«i3 ano n»q» modi jo Xjo3j(IV H »•- ■ : t 1 r. " < r - «-< [•PJO.W 3!l»«d] -1 CO -1 CO OS 7 — •- / i-.:i- 00 t» ■* r< c •: .- t .: ~ i : ■ ■>»• 1 — cc •.£ os ^^ 09 ijoflanv Mn«o si •' 1-N O* in «»»io «»««^qd si .- 00 ■* a 1> 01 « ■'. O 00 CO AI »"10 »»«»-"ld "II CO — I - • T, OOOWM^® iO o>oa>oxaoiO(Oca — 05 OJ eo •M sioioo anox 01 os sadA'x pa»«ioo*sy '6 01 AJoSanv asvjqci -g 00 sioajg3 jaamnojiAng; -1 i(dmx tnojj *»D8iia "9 A •««I0 saMjqj c «o -* Bjoajja «An«BCJi f 10 to CO OO O — ■* £io3ar[V PJ0A\ "S ^H ^H ■M n»ajsa oi»« ni«j(i g cc oo x 00 x> ■* "* os-* si O eo s^oajjg saueSsjj 1 Table V. Tin' KlciiicntB in order of I'otonoy. a = c - 00 — — c«_i on .2 J III. Parlemont of Fouloa IV. Rous of Fame V. Knightes Tale VI. Prologue VII. Tempil of (Has VIII. Surrey's Sonnets IX. Wyatt's Sonnets X. Induction XI. Faerie (iuoene •0 s rr if* S C c c Contents. I. Introductory Remarks r> II. The Elements of Poetical Subject - Matter 8 III. The Elements of Poetical Technique 12 IV. The Development of PJnglish Poetry from Langland to Spenser .">() Pruck von Hesse & Becker in Leipzig. I