LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 821 C39Yi V.3 'E nglish The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN juL 2 / \m TU61— O-lOQfi Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/studiesinchaucer03loun_0 s :UDIES IN CHAUGER HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS LIBRARY i^LlNOl^ THOMAS R. LOUNSBURY PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN THE SHEFFIELD SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL OF YALE UNIVERSITY m THREE VOLUMES VOL. III. I I I NEW YORK hIARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE i 1892 I Copyright, 1891, by Harper & Brothers. All rights reserved. CONTENTS OF VOL III. CHAPTER VII. CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY I. His position among English poets, 3, 4; vicissitudes in his rep- utation, 4, 5 ; difficulty of the investigation, 5-7 ; continuous popularity of great writers, 7-9; Chaucer no exception, 9, 10; recognition by contemporaries, 10-15; by Gower, Scogan, and the author of the ‘Testament of Love,’ 10, ii ; by Occleve and Lydgate, ii, 12; imitation by Froissart, 13 ; tribute of Eustache Deschamps, 13-15; early popularity in Scotland, 15-18; imi- tated by James L, Henryson, Dunbar, and Gawin Douglas, 18- 22; popularity in the fifteenth century, 22-33; Occleve and Lydgate and their tributes, 22-27 ; sterility of the century, 27- 30; mentioned constantly with Gower and Lydgate, 30-33; invention of printing followed by numerous editions of Chau- cer’s works, 33; popularity in the sixteenth century, 33-72; number of editions issued, 33, 34 ; popularity with the Puri- tans, 34-41 ; admiration expressed by writers of the time, 41, 42 ; by Spenser, 42-46 ; literary controversies in the sixteenth century as related to Chapcer, 46-65 ; conflict of the classical and the modern movement, 46-48 ; the controversy about ver- sification, 48-53 ; supposed irregularity of Chaucer’s versifica- tion 7 5T^^'.sixteenth=ce'ntury pronunciation of Chaucer, 54- 58; controversy as to the diction of poetry, 58, 59; revival of Chaucer’s words, 59-65; blunders as to his reputation in the Elizabethan age, 65-67; Chaucer and the drama, 67-70; Gower’s recognized inferiority, 70-72; Chaucer’s reputation touches its lowest point in the seventeenth century, 73 ; Earle’s remark, 74; admiration expressed by Milton, 74-76; Kynas- ton’s Latin translation, 76-82; desirability then felt of trans- lating English works into Latin, 82-84 < comments and views of Pepys and Mennis on Chaucer, 84-88 ; Braithwaite's com- CONTENTS OF VOL. III. merit, 88-90; Phillips’s comment, 91 ; edition of 1687, 92; ref- erences to Chaucer by Cokayne, Evelyn, and Denham, 93-95 ; Addison on Chaucer, 95-97. II. Anthony Wood on Chaucer, 98; Dryden on, 99-109; supposed rudeness of Chaucer’s ^versification, 110-L12; imitations of Chaucer, 112-114; seventeenth-century imitations, 115-119; eighteenth-century imitations, 1 19-132; practice of moderni- sation, 1 32-1 34; assumed obsoleteness of Chaucer’s language, 134- i4^~change in language, 140-151; ignorance of Early English in the eighteenth century, 1 51-154; modernization of Chaucer, 154-156; eighteenth-century preference for modern- izations, 156-159; Dryden’s modernizations, 1 59-1 79; Pope’s, 179-185; Betterton’s, 185-188; Ogle’s, 189-191; two classes of modernizations, 191, 192 ; modernizations of Boyse and Brooke, 1 92-1 97 ; of Lipscomb, 197-200; of Dart, Calcott, and Harte, 200, 201 ; eighteenth-century diction unsuked for mod- ernizing Chaucer, 201, 202; nineteenth - century and ?dgh- teenth-century modernizations compared, 202, 203 ; moderni- zations of Lord Thurlow, 203-208; of Wordsworth, 208-210; of Leigh Hunt, 210-212; new scheme of modernization, 212- 214; the last of the modernizations, 214-229. III. The influence of Dryden, 230-233; Gay’s comedy, 234; Pope on ChajiC-er, 234-237 ; eighteenth-century opinion, 237-239 ;'Ten- dency of modernizations, 240 ; antiquarian interest in Chaucer, 241 ; Mrs. Cooper’s publication, 242, 243 ; increasing interest in Chaucer, 243, 244; Warton on Chaucer, 244-253; reason for the failure of the eighteenth century to appreciate Chaucer, 253, 254; influence of Tyrwhitt, 254, 255 ; views overthrown by Tyrwhitt, 255-258; Chaucer’s popularity in the later Georgian period, 258-263 ; admiration felt by Wordsworth, Southey, and Coleridge, 258, 259; Byron o n Chaucer, 260, 261 ; Miss Mitford on Chaucer, 262, 263 ; presehTTapidly increasing popularity of Chaucer, 263, 264; the question of the modernization of Chau- cer in orthography and pronunciation, 264-279. CHAPTER VIII. CHAUCER AS A LITERARY ARTIST The antagonism between authors and reviewers as old as litera- ture, 283 ; no record of hostile criticism of Chaucer by his CONTENTS OF VOL. III. V contemporaries, 284 ; evidence from his writings of its exist- ence, 284-288 ; his dissatisfaction with his own work, 288, 289 ; ignorant criticism about Chaucer inherited by the present age, 289, 290; the conventional comparison of Chaucer with Shak- speare, 290 - 293 ; continued existence of eighteenth -century views^of Chaucer’s art, 293; the inspired-barbarian view, 294, 295 ; Chaucer a consciou^worker, 295, 296J in versification, a reformer and an inventor, 296-299 ; the three kinds of verse he found in common use, 299-3^ ; alliterative verse, 299; ryming verse in stanzas, 499, 300 ; octo^llabic verse, 301 ; the inven- tion and introduction of the heroic measure hiS greatest ser- vice, 3 01-3 03 ; his creation of the ryme royal, 304-306; the three measures he principally used, 306, 307 ; his naturaliza- tion of foreign measures and experiments in versification, 307- 316; his progressive development in the handling of the matter of his poems, 316-322; absence of verbal quibbles, 319; characteristics of early poets, 322, 323 ; Chaucer’s attitude tow- ards literature a critical one, 323-344; his method not char- acterized by blind creative impulse, 324; prominence of his own personality, 325 ; freedom from the bombastic and the commonplace, 326^32^ ; freedom from prolixity, 327-330 ; his criticism of the ‘ Gestes,’ 330-332 ; of the ‘ Tragedies,’ 332-335 ; the ‘ Legend of Good Women ’ as showing changing taste, 335- 339; the critical tendency as revealed in the tales of the Franklin, the Wife of Bath, and the Clerk of Oxford, 339-344; the question of morality, 344-364; the controversy as to the province of art, 344, 345 ; the apology of conformity with the taste of his times, 345-347 ; Chaucer’s view of the relation of art to morality, 347-353 ; his avoidance of the revolting, 353- 356; his treatment of the immoral, 356-358; the humorous tales in literary history, 358-363; their excellence, 363, 364; Chaucer’s art injuriously a|fected by his learning, 364-375 ; in- trusion of irrelevant learning, 365-371 ; improper digressions, 371, 372; passages improperly introduced, 372-375 ; the ques- tion of art in Chaucer’s indifference to the truth of fact, 375- 391 ; his anachronisms, 375-380; conformity to fact not cared for, 380-383; Shakspeare, Milton, Gray, similarly indifferent, 383-387; the value of conformity to fact, 387-391 ; the ques- tion of Chaucer’s originality, 391-430; his obligations to other writers, 392-398 ; mistaken conceptions of originality, 398-406 ; view of Sandras as to Chaucer’s originality, 407-412 ; of Wright, 413, 414 ; the invention of tales, 414-416 ; Chaucer’s treatment of his material, 416-419; its originality, 419, 420; his acknowl- edgment of his obligations, 420-429 ; his obligations to others VI CONTENTS OF VOL. III. not a question of first importance, 429, 430 ; incompleteness of his works, 430-439 ; of the ‘ Canterbury Tales,’ 431-436 ; of the ‘House of Fame,’ 436-438; general conclusions, 439-446; ^changes of method, 439, 440 ; closeness of his language to that of common life, 440-443; position in English literature, 444; characteristics of his style, 444-446. APPENDIX. Discovery of a new poem of Chaucer’s, 449, 450 , discovery of the originals of the ‘Complaint of Venus,’ 450, 451 ; correction of errors in the text, 451,452; maxim derived from Seneca, 452; identification of Retters with the modern Rethel, 452, 453. Index 455 VIL CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY I. I N 1628, twelve years after the death of Shakspeare, appeared the first edition of the ‘ Microcosmogra- phy’ of John Earle, then fellow of Merton College, Ox- ford, afterwards successively the Bishop of Worcester and of Salisbury. This work belonged to a class of writings — the delineation of individual characters — which the in- tensely introspective life of the earlier half of the seven- teenth century had made extremely popular. Among the number sketched was that of a Vulgar-Spirited Man. By this was meant one who merely followed in all things the common cry, who had no opinions but the received opinions of the majority about him. In the description of the character occurs a passage v/hich is of some im- portance to us, as marking the position then supposed to be held in popular estimation by the first great writer of our literature. The vulgar-spirited man is described, among other things, as one “ that cries Chaucer for his money above all our English poets, because the voice has gone so, and he has read none.” We shall have oc- casion to see in the course of this chapter that these words represent a literary tradition rather than a real sentiment. Yet considered merely as a survival, they have a peculiar interest. For at the time they were 4 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY written a succession of authors had come and gone who had made the Elizabethan age the proudest in our lit- erary annals. The intellectual outburst of that period, it is true, had long before reached its point of highest flow. It was then running in narrow channels or losing itself entirely among shallows. But if the power of pro- duction was beginning to fail, self-respect still survived unimpaired. A certain degree of distance, indeed, is usually needed to gain a proper conception of the mag- nitude of large objects; and Shakspeare was as yet too near the time to have the fulness and extent of his superiority generally appreciated. But it is certainly creditable to the honesty and healthy spirit of the age that the poet of English literature, strictly so called, who was first in point of time, was still reckoned by the voice of common tradition the first in point of greatness. With an exception in favor of one man only, that verdict has never been set aside. ^ No higher tribute can be paid to the freshness and power of Chaucer’s genius than to say that it has never failed in any period to triumph over the obsoleteness of his diction and the capriciousness of popular taste. More than that, though nearly five cen- turies have gone by since his death, in the long and il- lustrious roll of English poets the opinions of all com- petent to judge place only the name of Shakspeare above his own.^ At the same time, it need not be denied that to many, even of professedly literary men, Chaucer is still a name rather than a power. If this be true now, when the means for becoming familiar with his works have vastly increased, it was necessarily much truer of periods when VICISSITUDES IN HIS REPUTATION 5 acquaintance with his writings was looked upon as an achievement that equalled in difficulty the mastery of a foreign tongue, but was attended with neither the ad- vantage nor the repute which a knowledge of the latter would have conferred. In the history of the fame of every great author we are certain to find vicissitudes of exaltation and depression. This, which is the lot of all, would in any case have been the lot of Chaucer. But to the common fate he was subject in a peculiar degree. His reputation was affected by the revolution of lan- guage even more than by that of literary taste. Its history, accordingly, is marked by variations on a grand scale. He early attained and long held a height of celebrity which is reached by few. The period of ad- miration almost extravagant was followed by a period of comparative neglect, during which little was known of him outside of a comparatively small class. This, in turn, has been followed by a revival of interest which, though far from having come to its full vigor, has once more already brought him prominently to the front. He is no longer in the first rank of English poets merely in name. His influence is a reality to many. It is stead- ily reaching wider circles, and gives abundant signs that it is only in the first flush of a renewed course of literary conquest. To trace the history of Chaucer’s reputation is the ob- ject of the present chapter. It is an investigation that from its very nature is one of peculiar difficulty. The peril both of over-estimate and of under-estimate is al- ways present. Even with the ample facilities of our own day, it is no easy matter to gauge the comparative 6 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY popularity of writers, or ascertain their rank in public opinion. At the very outset we have to throw out a large share of the judgment that is noisiest in its utter- ance. That general public which reads contemporary works of more or less merit shades off insensibly into a vastly larger public which reads contemporary works of no merit whatever. The abundant testimony furnished by the men of this intellectual grade may keep the authors of the present before us. It has little to do, however, with establishing their relative position. Yet the opin- ion of this mighty mass does carry a certain weight, not from the actual value of the utterance, but from its vol- ume. We despise the judgment of the market-place, and experience shows that we are usually right in despising it. Unfortunately, it also shows that we are sometimes wrong. The voice of all men turns out occasionally, even in literary matters, to be more worthy of respect than the voice of the chosen few. He alone can be ab- solutely secure of immortality who has gained the suf- frages of both. The difficulty of arriving at correct conclusions in re- gard to the authors of the past, especially of the remote past, is of a different nature. In their case it is the scantiness of the record that troubles us, and not its ful- ness. From their own times very few estimates of any kind are handed down. Oftentimes there are scarcely any. We are consequently in perpetual danger of draw- ing; erroneous inferences from those that chance to be preserved. They are always liable to represent individ- ual tastes rather than the general judgment. There is even greater danger of being misled, not by the character CONTINUOUS POPULARITY OF GREAT WRITERS 7 of the estimates, but by their rarity. We are insensibly influenced to believe, because a thing does not happen to be mentioned, that therefore it does not exist ; be- cause an author is not named, that therefore he is not read. In the case of Chaucer this has led to some most un- founded inferences and erroneous assertions. Exagger- ated accounts are often given of the neglect which at particular periods has overtaken his writings. It is im- plied that there were times when he was absolutely for- gotten. For myself, I confess to feeling little faith in the great poems that continue to be unread and the great poets that continue to be unknown. It is one of the blessings, or curses, that the invention of printing has brought in its train, that every age witnesses the tem- porary revival of some work or author that the world has not taken the pains to remember. With it is preached the comfortable doctrine, dear to unsuccessful medioc- rity, that the only men who are worth anything are the men who fail. Undoubtedly a man of genius, under the stress of peculiar circumstances, may be deprived, for a period at least, of the honor to which he is justly en- titled. Still, the instances are far fewer than is usually supposed. The belief is largely due to the disposition to impute our own personal ignorance to the whole of mankind. It is a common mistake to fancy that the writers we ourselves do not hear spoken of, or the works we do not regard, are not spoken of and are not regarded at all. We are naturally inclined to estimate the popu- larity of an author by his popularity in the immediate circle to which we belong, or of the still larger but never- 8 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY / theless limited circle the views of which come to our ears. He is supposed to rise or fall in the estimate of all men according to the estimate of the few we know, or know about. As a result of fallacious inferences, based upon lack of information or upon misinformation, the announcement is not unfrequently made that this or that author is no longer read. There have been plenty of proclamations of this sort in the history of English literature, and there are likely to be plenty more. State- ments of such a nature are usually made with the pom- pous assurance that specially characterizes the men who are unable to realize the largeness of the world, and how very insignificant a part of it is the fraction of the frac- tion to which they belong ; who fancy, moreover, in the changing tastes of the hour, or in the sentiments of some special clique, the final word of criticism has been spoken and the final conclusion of the ages has been reached and recorded. As a matter of fact, there is never a time when a really great author is unknown or neglected. He is in fashion somewhere. He is to some an inspiration and a guide, though to the little coterie of which we form a part he may seem forgotten, and by it may perhaps be ignorantly despised. A reputation that has been estab- lished by the suffrage of centuries will never be perma- nently affected by the hostility of any person or clique ; though the multitude may, for a time, mistake the failure to protest against condemnation as an assent to its jus- tice. It is the advocates of the writer whose position is not assured that are disposed to be loudest in proclama- tions of his superiority. The men who really believe in HIS CONTINUOUS POPULARITY 9 the greatness of the god they worship do not persistent- ly go about Asserting his pre-eminence. They assume it as a matter about which there can be no controversy. Any other course would suggest a suspicion of the ful- ness of their own faith, if it did not actually imply secret distrust. It is so with the lovers of a great poet, at least of a great poet of the past. They are not in the habit of thrusting their admiration of him upon a heedless world. Nor do they often take the pains to put upon record the opinions they entertain. They are content with simply holding them and with quietly despising the idols that have been set up by the latest devotees of the newest literary divinities. Chaucer is no exception to the rule. Against his continuous popularity no time has ever been able to prevail. This is perfectly consonant with the view that the circle of those who knew about him was at one pe- riod constantly narrowing, and the band of those who studied him was constantly diminishing. Still, the three tests of enduring fame — the opinion of contemporaries, the opinion of foreign nations, the opinion of posterity — he has successfully met. The first of these it was es- sential for him to have, living in the age he did. The mere fact of his reputation continuing to last at all proves that he had it. For whatever truth there may be now in Wordsworth’s dictum, that every great origi- nal writer must create his own audience, it could have been true only to a very limited extent in the age of manuscript. If an author did not please his immediate contemporaries, he stood little chance of pleasing pos- terity, because he stood little chance of reaching it. lO CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY Appreciation of him in his own time was almost neces- sary to his being known to after-time. In order to jus- tify the trouble and expense of copying, his work would have to be made interesting to the people who were then alive ; for the transcribers could not reasonably be expected to anticipate the feelings of people who were some day going to be alive. Chaucer easily fulfils this first condition. The ap- preciation of his contemporaries is something that he received on even a grand scale. When we take into account the scantiness of the literary records of former ages, the tributes to his greatness that have come down from his own day are extraordinary, both for their num- ber and their character. The recognition of his posi- tion as a poet is so general and so hearty that it fur- nishes conclusive proof of the profound impression he made upon the men of his own time. It was remarka- ble for the unanimity Avith which the highest rank was accorded him without question. The well-known lines of Gower in which testimony is borne to the univer- sality of his reputation and to the popularity of his writings have already been quoted.^ Two or three pas- sages, in addition, in this same author’s work are clear evidences of the favor in which the poem of ‘Troilus and Cressida’ was held.^ This, at the time of the com- position of the ‘ Confessio Amantis,’ must have been Chaucer’s principal production. Scogan, likewise, in the poem he addressed to the lords and gentlemen of the king’s house, speaks of him in more than one place as his master. He calls him the noble poet of Britain. ^ Vol. i., p. 44. ^ E. g., Confessio A maniis, vol. ii,, pp. 95, 388. TESTIMONY OF OCCLEVE AND LYDGATE II He copies in full one of his shorter pieces, as if what- ever was said* by him were the final authority upon any disputed point. The unknown contemporary author of the prose ‘Testament of Love’ is equally earnest in his praises. Chaucer, in his eyes, is the noble English phil- osophical poet. He surpasses all other writers in mat- ter and in manner, and to him worship and reverence are due from all. But it is at the hands of the two men who were con- temporaries and survivors that he receives the most frequent testimonials of praise. These are Occleve and Lydgate. By both of them the superiority of Chaucer to all who had written in the English tongue is recog- nized as an indisputable fact. Occleve went farther. The isle of Britain could never bring forth the equal of him whom he styled “ the first finder* of our fair lan- guage.” Ardent as are Occleve’s testimonials to his greatness, they are exceeded by those of Lydgate in number, though they could not well be in fervency. There is scarcely a production of the latter, of any length, that does not contain references to the poet or to his writings. Some of these passages can be found in all extended accounts of Chaucer’s life. There are many more that have never been noticed. Lydgate is, in fact, never weary of applying to Chaucer the title of chief poet of Britain. In his ‘ Flower of Courtesy ’ he la- ments his death. Those who come after may strive to imitate his style, but as he declares, perhaps from per- sonal experience, “ it will not be.” That fountain is henceforth dry. It is, however, in his translation of ’ Poet. 12 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY Boccaccio’s ‘ Fall of Princes’ that perhaps the most fre- quent references abound. This version was made sev- eral years after Chaucer’s death, for Lydgate tells us himself that he turned the work into English at the desire of the Duke of Gloucester, uncle to Henry VI. His patron he praises highly for his love of literature and hatred of heretics, none of whom dared come in his sight or abide in the land. As it was not until the death of his brother, in 1423, that this nobleman be- came protector of the realm, the reference is proof of the steady hold which Chaucer continued to maintain over the contemporary men of letters who survived him. The passage in this translation which gives a list of the poet’s writings is a very familiar one to students but it is only one of many. In several instances he did not render the original, because the incidents recorded had been already treated by Chaucer. The reason he gives for the omission is noteworthy. Not only would he himself feel that it was presumption, but by men gen- erally he would be looked upon as having exhibited it. Anything he could do, he tells us, would be dimmed by the greater brilliancy of his predecessor, just as a star loses its light in the presence of the sun. It were but vain to write anew things said by him before. For this express reason he refuses to relate, among other things, the stories of Lucrece, of Antony and Cleopatra, and of Zenobia. These omissions mean more than at first sight they seem. The admiration which could hold Lydgate’s verbosity in check must have transcended the ordinary experience of mankind. See vol. i., p. 419 ff. IMITATION BY FROISSART 13 Even in his own time Chaucer’s reputation had, in some measure, extended to foreign lands. This was not then to be expected to any marked degree. Eng- lish literature, in a high sense of the word, was still only in its beginnings, and it is not in the beginnings of litera- ture that reputation passes the bounds set up by speech. This is true even now, when men are constantly en- gaged in the search for literary novelties in every quar- ter. But it was infinitely more true of the fourteenth century. We need not therefore be surprised to find only one tribute of this sort expressly paid to Chaucer from authors who wrote in a foreign tongue. There seems, indeed, to be little doubt that from another of them he received the compliment of imitation on a small scale, and of occasional borrowing that showed at least familiarity with one portion of his productions. The opening of the ‘ Death of Blanche ’ corresponds pre- cisely with the opening of the poem of Froissart en- titled Le Paradis d' Amour. One of them must have been taken from the other. A question of priority be- tween two pieces, both of which are undated, is not easy to settle. Still, the English poem was pretty cer- tainly written about 1369, and the probabilities are in favor of the French one having been composed as late as 1384. This is the opinion of Sandras, who was the first to point out the resemblance of the two and Sandras was not a critic who was disposed to find in Chaucer any originality where it could be avoided. But the tribute already mentioned as having been directly paid to the poet by a foreign writer is one of ^ Atitde sur Chaucer, par Sandras, p. 90. 14 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY much greater importance. It came from the pen of Eustache Deschamps. That poet was not a man who loved Englishmen as Englishmen. As a Frenchman he had no reason to do so ; for they had done little but make his own land miserable. His works, indeed, are full of the bitterest attacks upon the island wolves who had for years been ravaging his country. National prejudice did not, however, prevent him from recog- nizing the greatness of a writer that belonged to the hated race. To Chaucer he sent, with a copy of his own works, a ballade addressed to him personally.^ In the course of it he makes a direct reference to the version of the Roman de la Rose, and it is perhaps worthy of note that the refrain is the line, “ Grand translateur, noble Geffroy Chancier.” The piece is written throughout in a highly eulogistic strain, and the stanza with which it begins likens the English poet to several of the great men of the past. The opening lines, translated, read as follows : “ O Socrates full of philosophy, Seneca in morals and English in conduct of life. Great Ovid in thy poetry, Concise in speaking, skilful in writing. High-soaring eagle, who by thy science Dost illuminate the realm of .Tineas, The isle of giants, those whom Brutus slew.” We need not take too seriously the language of friend- ship or compliment. We are not required to believe that Deschamps actually esteemed his contemporary was Socrates, Seneca, and Ovid, rolled in one. It is ^ CEuvres Completes de Eustache Deschamps, vol. ii., p. 138, EARLY POPULARITY IN SCOTLAND 15 probable that the poet’s earlier work was all with which the French Writer was acquainted. He seems to know Chaucer only or principally as a translator. Still, there is a heartiness in his language which manifests plainly that he recognized the existence of the greatness which it was perhaps impossible for him to have fully appre- ciated. Scotland may also be looked upon with propriety as being at this time a foreign country. Still, in spite of the difference of dialect, the language of Central Eng- land was comprehensible with slight difficulty, and its literature was fairly accessible. The Northern authors, accordingly, stand to those south of the Tweed in the double light of representatives of the same speech and of different nationalities. There are, indeed, no refer- ences of theirs to Chaucer that can be considered as belonging strictly to his own age. There were hardly any writers to make them. Yet the wide popularity of the poet in Scotland during the whole century that fol- lowed his death is evidence that it must have begun early to have spread so extensively among a people sufficiently foreign to have its immediate judgment rep- resent something of the attitude of posterity. A feel- ing, perhaps pardonable upon the score of patriotism, has occasionally induced Scotch critics in later times to speak of Barbour as a rival of his great English con- temporary. This has been too preposterous a claim to find any to make it boldly, or many to make it at all. It is upon an author of later date, but of greater genius, that this peculiar method of manifesting devotion to one’s country has concentrated itself. Dunbar is the l 6 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY one who has been elevated to the position which Bar- bour was manifestly incompetent to hold. Pinkerton assures us that as he had a genius at least equal to Chaucer’s, and possessed, in addition, greater originality, it is no wonder that he excelled the English poet in every respect. It is just to say that this is a point of critical heroism higher than the audacity of most even of those Scotch writers who cultivate patriotism at the expense of reason has been able to attain. It is assur- edly much farther than the courage of those has been willing to go who cared at all for the estimation in which their own literary sanity was held. These are content with putting Dunbar upon a level with Chaucer in some respects. There are certain things, they tell us, in which he rivals his master. In views of this sort they have occasionally received help from English writers whose words have been treated as of exceptional importance, apparently as if, besides being the opinions of critics, they were also concessions wrung from an enemy.' The feeling which put the authors just mentioned upon any equality with Chaucer, so far as it exists at all, is confined to modern Scotchmen. The earlier ones were absolutely devoid of it. The question of nation- ality seems not to have entered into the critical esti- mates they made of poetry. Those of them who have, or who take, any occasion to speak of Chaucer acknowl- edge unhesitatingly his pre-eminence. By Henryson, Dunbar, Douglas, and Lyndesay he is mentioned, and oftentimes with a fervency of admiration that con- trasts in a marked degree with the somewhat tame trib- * For example, Drake in his Mornings in Spring, vol. ii., p. 15. EARLY POPULARITY IN SCOTLAND 7 utes that are paid to other writers. It is worthy of ob- servation, too; that the higher the grade of ability, the greater was the admiration exhibited. By Gawin Doug- las he is styled the poet without peer, the heavenly trumpet, the horologe and rule to which all must con- form.^ Dunbar himself, whom modern provincialism has sometimes given a seat beside his predecessor, is much the most ardent of all in the enthusiasm he mani- fests. There is extravagance in the praise given in the following verse from the ‘ Golden Targe/ but there is no doubt that in this case it expressed a genuine feeling: “ O reverend Chaucere, rose of rethoris all, As in oure tong ane flour imperiall, That raise in Britane evir, quho redis rycht, Thou beris of makaris the tryumph riall ; Thy fresch anamalit termes celicall This matir coud illumynit have full brycht : Was thou noucht of oure Inglisch all the lycht, Surmounting eviry tong terrestriall, Alls fer as Mayes morow dois mydnycht.” He who could say that Chaucer was a poet whose utter- ance surpassed that of earthly tongues anywhere and everywhere cannot be acchsed of lack of enthusiasm, whatever fault may be found with his lack of judgment. Still, the mere mention of Chaucer’s name with com- mendation is not often very convincing in itself. It might prove familiarity and regard, and again it might not. It was the general practice of the time, and it re- quired then as profound obscurity to escape from the praise of the poet as it does now from the pen of the ^ In the prologue to his translation of the first book of Virgil’s y^neid. IIL— 2 1 8 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY biographer. Highly laudatory epithets were showered at that period upon writers who in our days are reck- oned little worthy of laudatory epithets of a low kind. There are more satisfactory tests of eminence than the mere trumpeting of a name, which custom would have exacted even if appreciation did not exist. It is the form of admiration which consists in imitation that shows how widespread and profound was the influence that Chaucer exerted. The extent to which hi^ ideas, his methods, and his words have penetrated the produc- tions of those that followed proves how supremely he had come to be the ruling force in our literature. This is particularly noticeable in the Scotch writers of the fifteenth century and the first half of the sixteenth. Whole poems of theirs owe their existence, or at least the form they assumed, to similar productions of his creation. In other instances long passages have been suggested by similar passages in the writings of him whom all recognized as their common master. The characters he had rendered famous were constantly in- troduced. The events he has narrated are made the subject of frequent reference, and of reference in such a way as to imply that they were events well known to all. Entire lines are often adopted with scarcely any change. A sincerer flattery, indeed, than that of words can be found at times in the words themselves. So profoundly did Chaucer affect the Scotch poets that the peculiar grammatical forms of the Midland dialect in which he wrote were occasionally introduced by them into the Northern dialect in which they wrote. This is especial- ly characteristic of the productions of James I. and of IMITATED BY JAMES I. 19 Gawin Douglas. The poetic language employed by them was to some extent, accordingly, a language which was never actually used in the speech of living men. This is not in itself a matter of much consequence. We need not find fault with it, so long as those did not who flourished at the same time. Its interest to us lies in the fact that the devotion to Chaucer was so deep-seated that the reproduction of his characteristics extended not merely to his manner and his mannerisms and to the repetition of his words, but even to the very form his words assumed. It was with James I. that this imitation began, so far as any memorials have been handed down. His educa- tion in England had necessarily brought him under the influence of its reviving literature. In his ‘ King’s Quair,’ which was written in 1423, he recommends his work to his “ masters dear, Gower and Chaucer.” But it is the influence of the latter only that can be seen. That in- fluence, however, can be seen everywhere. The poem is fairly saturated with the spirit of his writings, while there is nothing in it that would prove beyond question that its author had ever read a sentence that Gower wrote. Nor is it merely the spirit tbat is represented. Phrases, and even lines, in the ‘ King’s Quair’ are taken directly from Chaucer, and long passages in it owe to him their inspiration, and, it might be almost fair to add, their existence. The Scottish monarch’s imitations, in truth, are more frequent and more noticeable than those of any other poet of the fifteenth century whose writings have fallen under my observation. The practice begun by James I. was steadily kept up. 20 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY Henryson produced the ‘Testament of Cressida’ as a continuation of ‘ Troilus and Cressida/ For a long time this piece maintained its place, as has been seen, in the collected edition of the English poet’s works, as if it were a composition of his own/ Dunbar’s writings dis- play the same characteristics as those of King James. Chaucer’s influence can be traced in all his longer poems. His phrases occur often, and sometimes a whole line is taken almost bodily ‘The Tua Maryit Wemen and the Wedo,’ though written in alliterative verse, is plainly modelled, so far as its matter and spirit are concerned, upon the prologue to the Wife of Bath’s tale. To that production Bishop Percy considered it nothing inferior. It is fair to place before others such an estimate of this piece by a writer whose critical opinion is entitled to re- spect, though it seems to me to display in this instance neither knowledge nor insight. These two poems are alike in that there is outspokenness and coarseness in both. But the broad downright satire of the imitation, though vigorous and pungent, lacks utterly the occa- sional delicate humor of the original, its ironical insinua- tion which implies so much more than it says, and, above all, the lightness of touch, passing without effort from gayety to melancholy, that contrasts conspicuously and yet blends inextricably with the boisterous jollity which to the hasty reader is the predominating tone of the prologue to the Wife of Bath’s tale. Criticism of a very ’ See vol. i., pp. 458 ff. Compare also the seventeenth stanza ^ For example, of the first canto of Gawin Douglas’s “Dyane the goddesse chaste of woddis King Hart K\\\\ line 108 and lines grene.” The Golden Targe, 1 . 76. 1 17-iig of the Knight's tale. “O chaste goddesse of the woodes grene.” Knight's Tale, 1 . 1439. IMITATED BY GAWIN DOUGLAS 21 similar nature can be made of ‘The Freiris of Berwik,’ an anonymous poem which has been frequently attrib- uted to Dunbar. It is a manifest imitation of Chaucer’s humorous stories. Like its originals, it is a tale of in- trigue. What it wants is the one thing by which the English poet’s broadest pieces are supremely character- ized, and that is the air of literary distinction. Perhaps the one author by whom the sort of admi- ration which consists in imitation was expressed most fully was Bishop Douglas. In his ‘Palace of Honor’ the extent to which he followed the prologue to the ‘ Legend of Good Women’ would almost subject him in modern times to the charge of plagiarism. The conduct of his piece is largely patterned upon this particular work. He is in it accused of disloyalty to the queen of love, as Chaucer was to the god. He is defended by the muse Calliope, as Chaucer was by Alcestis. There is the same kind of disquisition upon the duty of the one higher in station to be merciful and not cruel. His trespass was forgiven in the same way as was Chaucer’s. He is to write something in praise of Venus as the English poet was to write something in praise of women who had suf- fered for their faithfulness in love. These resemblances are sufficient to show Douglas’s familiarity with one, at least, of the works of his predecessor. But the deference with which he regards him exhibits itself most signally in the remarks he ventures to make in the most approved style of obtuse criticism in the prologue to his trans- lation of the first book of the ^neid. He represents Chaucer as having said in his ‘ Legend of Good Women’ that he would follow Virgil word by word in his account 22 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY of Dido. This he had not done, and thereby the prince of poets had been greatly grieved. For his conduct in this matter Douglas took Chaucer to task for presump- tion. But he did it with bated breath, and with the evi- dent consciousness that he was exhibiting, and would be looked upon as exhibiting, great presumption himself. He was certainly exhibiting gross misapprehension, for Chaucer said nothing of the sort with which he was charged. The criticism has on that very account an in- terest of its own, for it shows that the custom of imput- ing to the author as an error the results of the censor’s own muddleheadedness of comprehension has for itself the sanction of venerable antiquity. But its marked characteristic is the anxiety that Douglas manifests to convince his readers that he does not utter his censure for offence,” and the care he takes to assure them that he regarded himself as altogether inferior to the poet with whom he ventures in this instance to find fault. It is clear from his words that Chaucer had in Scotland a body of adherents with whom no author felt it desirable to come into collision. The deferential tone he exhibits towards him, even in censuring him, is made the more striking by its contrast with the vigorous way in which he speaks of Caxton. Him he abuses without stint for the variations from Virgil found in his ‘Troy Book.’ The language actually breaks down under his inability to express satisfactorily and sufficiently the indignation and disgust he feels. When we come to the English writers of the fifteenth century we find this same pre-eminence of Chaucer as unanimously and ungrudgingly accorded. His immedi- POPULARITY IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 23 ate successors, who were at the same time his contem- poraries, are Dccleve and Lydgate. The words of these two, in speaking of him, are particularly deserving of at- tention because they are the words of men to whom he was known personally as well as by his writings. We p^et from them more than a mere critical view of the es- o timation in which his works were held. They give the impression that as a man he inspired not only admiration, but a feeling of personal devotion on the part of those with whom he came in close contact. It is evident, in- deed, from Lydgate’s words in his ‘Troy Book,’ that he was particularly kind and considerate towards young poets;' a fact, however, which, if we judge from the pieces of the period that have survived, furnishes matter for regret rather than for rejoicing. To me the notices of Chaucer are the only parts of the writings of both these authors that deserve much attention. If this opinion be thought unjust, it is just to say that it does no more than extend to the two a critical estimate which is taken by most persons of the one. Occleve is a writer who has been contemptuously treated even by those who speak respectfully of Lyd- gate. Many of his works* have not been printed. Of those which have been, it must be confessed that they are generally works which it requires dogged resolution to read. Even this is not likely to hold out, unless * “For he that was ground of well saying, In all his life, hindered no making. My master Chaucer, that found full many spot, Him list not pinch nor grucche at every blot ; Nor meve himself to perturbe his rest, I have heard told, but said alway the best ; Suffering goodly of his gentleness Full many thing embraced with rudeness.” 24 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY some other end in view exists than familiarity with his writings for their own sake. Still, Occleve has a cer- tain claim upon our respect which has never been ade- quately acknowledged. His reputation has suffered from his candor. He had sense enough and taste enough to see the immense distance between himself and Chau- cer, and to appreciate the excellence of the master. But he lacked the wisdom to keep his knowledge to himself. In a passage which is one of several that show the kindness which the great poet displayed towards his inferiors, Occleve honestly admitted his own inca- pacity to profit by the instruction he received. As he says, “ My deare master, God his soule quite. And father Chaucer fain would me have taught. But I was dull and learnede right naught.” The world, which is very apt to rate a man at his own valuation, took Occleve at his word. In so doing it treated him with justice in one way, and with injustice in another. It is common enough to be dull. What is uncommon is the ability to perceive it in one’s self, and the willingness to admit it. There is no doubt that he showed good sense in thinking meanly of his own performances. Most of his poems that have been print- ed are anything but poetical. The ‘ Letter of Cupid,’ found in the folio editions of Chaucer, is tedious beyond description. Six of his better poems were published by George Mason in 1796. Among these are one or two that have a distinct intellectual quality of their own. There are in them not only occasional gleams of wit, but a mastery of melody is also displayed which was OCCLEVE 25 uncommon in that age, and which is not visible in most of Occleve’s other work, at least of that printed. Both of these things are true of ‘ The Misrule,’ the first poem in the collection. Those who think this praise too high may take in preference Ritson’s criticism, made in 1802, in the course of his description of the manuscript in which these pieces are found. “ Six of peculiar stupid- ity,” he remarked, “ were selected and published by its late owner.” ^ Could we be certain that the orison to the Virgin which begins with the words “ Mother of God and Virgin undefouled” were a composition of Occleve’s, and not a copy by him of one of his master’s, we should be justified in according him a higher poetical ability than could be conceded him for all his other published productions put together. Its superiority, indeed, to the rest of his work is so marked that it is difficult for that very reason to regard it as his ; and while it could not be looked upon as one of Chaucer’s most successful achievements, it is not unworthy of his powers. In the frank admission that he was dull lay Occleve’s moral superiority to his better-known contemporary, and perhaps his superiority in intellectual discernment. Lydgate was dull, and he probably never knew it. He certainly never told of it, if he did know it. The wise reticence he displayed in refraining to commit himself upon the point to his own disadvantage has been re- warded a hundred-fold. He was long accepted, and is even now occasionally accepted, at a valuation which was put upon him at a period when there was not a sufficient quantity of literature in the language to make ^ Ritson’s Bibliogmphia Poetica, p. 63. 26 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY men very discriminating about its quality. I am aware that he was spoken of respectfully by a man of genius such as was Gray, and was not disrespectfully spoken of by a woman of genius such as was Mrs. Browning. It only proves that, in spite of the dictum of Horace, there are middling verses which the immortals do not despise. Gray, moreover, somewhat like Warton, his successor in these literary investigations, was, to a cer- tain extent, an explorer. Both of them, accordingly, in their comments upon early authors, adopted uncon- sciously the explorer's habit of exaggeration, just as the first voyagers to the New World brought back mar- vellous stories of fountains of perpetual youth, and El Dorados abounding in gold and silver and precious stones. This will explain, to some extent, the compara- tively high estimate they expressed of the productions of Lydgate. It is not necessary to go to the length of the fierce antiquary Ritson, who, in his usual amiable way, styles him in one place ‘‘ a most prolix and volu- minous poetaster,” and in another “ a voluminous, pro- saic, and drivelling monk,” in the comments he made upon the elaborate drawlings,” as he terms them, of this writer.^ After giving the titles of some two hun- dred and fifty pieces and works attributed to Lydgate, he added, genially, that “ these stupid and fatiguing pro- ductions, which by no means deserve the name of poet- ry, and their still more stupid and disgusting author, who disgraces the name and patronage of his master Chaucer, are neither worth collecting * * * nor even >> worthy of preservation.^ Even those who might dis- ^ Ritson’s Bibliographia Foetica, pp. 66 and 87. ^ Ib., p. 88. LYDGATE 27 pute Ritson’s views on other points, will not deny that Lydgate was voluminous. There was apparently no topic upon which he was not ready to express himself at a moment’s notice. He produced, in consequence, a good deal of matter which it presumably gratified him to write ; though it seems inconceivable that there was ever a state of the human intellect in which gratifica- tion could have come to any one from its perusal. In his versification there is no harmony, no regular move- ment. In his expression, he had gained facility at the expense of felicity. He is one of those noted, or rather notorious, authors whose fame, such as it is, rests not upon their own achievements, but upon the kindness with which others have been induced to look upon their achievements. There is, accordingly, no necessity of reading his works resting upon any one save him who has to make a professional study of English literature. For this unfortunate being the dead past, so far from being able to bury its dead, is not even able to bury its bores. To so much of mention these writers are entitled, be- cause their names appear frequently associated with that of their great master. But no account of Chaucer could possibly be considered complete that did not quote, or at least refer, to the remark that he resembled a sunny day in an English spring ; after the visionary prospect of a speedy summer has gone the gloom of winter re- turns, and the buds and blossoms called forth by tem- porary warmth are nipped by frosts or torn by tem- pests. The mediocrity of Occleve and Lydgate naturally brings us to the proper place for putting this observa- 28 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY tion upon record. It was first made by Warton, in his ‘ History of English Poetry.’ It has been faithfully re- peated by every one since who has had anything to say of the relation of the poet to our literature. In deference to a habit so thoroughly established, I like- wise reproduce the comparison ; for at this late day it would be ungracious to sever what time and custom have so long joined together. A similar statement would doubtless hold true of several other poets in several other lands. It is not unreasonable to believe that a remark of the same general nature may have fallen from the lips of the Athenian of the age of Peri- cles as he contemplated the long interval of time that elapsed between the death of Homer and the appear- ance of any one who, with any propriety, could be said to have inherited anything of his genius. Still, the ob- servation is just in the case of our own great early poet, even if it also can be held to record the general experi- ence of the race. Chaucer, it is certain, left no inheri- tors of his power or of his literary position. That his genius should have died with him is not so strange ; but even the secret of his metrical skill seems to have been lost by his immediate successors. The followers of Pope equalled Pope in harmony, though they never anywhere approached his incisive utterance or his brill- iant wit. But with Chaucer died, for a time, not only the beauty of poetry, but the beauty of versification. Not to the mastery of that almost purely mechanical process did the men of his school attain. The lines of Lydgate and Occleve are frequently rugged. They are rugged, too, in a way for which the scribe, the scape-goat STERILITY OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 29 of the ancient author’s sins, cannot be held responsible. 'The fifteenth century seems to have been stricken with sterility in every quarter that indicates literary ability of any sort. Certainly this is true of the writers whose names it has left us; for it is a singular fact that the anonymous productions of that age exceed those of the authors of repute in everything which makes poetry readable, not to say endurable. The composers of ‘The Flower and the Leaf’ and of ‘The Cuckoo and the Nightingale,’ whoever they were, have left us in those productions something that far surpasses anything that came from the pen of Occleve, Lydgate, or any of the sixty other authors whose names have been collected and whose writings have been registered by the inde- fatigable Ritson. Whatever poetic power existed in the fifteenth century, it made no effort to hand down the name of its possessor. Even at its very close, the anonymous ballad of the ‘Nut-Brown Maid’ remains unrivalled by any contemporary work which can point with certainty to its parentage. It may be contended, therefore, that the supremacy of Chaucer during the fifteenth century was a suprem- acy won without difficulfy and maintained without competition ; that this, at least, was true so far as the English poets whose names have been preserved come under consideration. Most of these have to us hardly even the unsubstantial nature of shadows. What they wrote, so far from representing what any one has read, does not generally represent anything of which any one has heard. It must assuredly be conceded that there is no one of this time with whom his reputation has to 30 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY dread rivalry, even remotely. He left in England no school of poets who had the ability to carry on the ' work he had begun. It was inevitable that his excel- lence should dwarf the feeble efforts of his imitators ; but these would have seemed feeble even had nothing of his survived to furnish a standard of comparison. The result of this literary degeneracy was that for a long period he was regarded not merely as the chief poet of Britain, but as the only one. The fact of his un- disputed pre-eminence cannot be gainsaid. It w’as as apparent to the men of that time as it is now to us. The sentiment generally entertained was expressed by Caxton at the close of his edition of the ‘ House of Fame,’ which he printed about 1483. “ In all his works,” he wrote, “ he excelleth, in mine opinion, all other writ- ers in our English. For he writeth no void words: but all his matter is full of high and quick sentence, to whom ought to be given laud and praising for his noble making and writing. For of him all other have bor- rowed sith, and taken in all their well-saying and writ- ing.” To the statement just made it may be that some stu- dents of our literature may be led to take exception. Against the universal recognition of Chaucer’s suprem- acy one circumstance will seem to militate. There is one particular ingredient in the judgment passed upon the early poet during a large part of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries that sensibly allays the satisfaction with which the historian of literature may regard the tributes paid to his genius. This is the fact that he is very constantly associated with Gower and Lydgate. MENTIONED WITH GOWER AND LYDGATE 31 Sometimes it is with no perceptible difference in the com- mendation. 'If this does not detract from the sincerity of the admiration, it does from the competence of the taste that feels it and of the judgment that expresses it. Still, it is easy to attach an undue importance to this conjunction of names. It resulted from the accident of circumstance rather than from any disposition to regard the three as being on the same literary level. They lived at about the same period. They were the only writers of their time whose works were read at all. It was therefore natural that they should be mentioned together. So to do became, indeed, a sort of literary habit. It ordinarily meant no more than much of the notice which Chaucer himself received two centuries later. It was a matter of courtesy to make the usual polite remarks about Gower and Lydgate whenever there was any occasion for referring to the early writ- ers with whom their successors dated the beginning of English literature. To mention them came soon to be in conformity with all well-established precedents. To mention them respectfully brought to the speaker the gratifying consciousness that he had said both v/hat he ought to say and what he was expected to say. While this is assuredly the true explanation of most of the references to the two poets, it need not be denied that there were instances where the praise bestowed upon Gower and Lydgate was as hearty and sincere as that given to Chaucer. Of this fact we have a notable illustration in the early part of the sixteenth century. There was one man to whom Chaucer’s disciple was 32 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY more of an inspiration than Chaucer himself. This was Stephen Hawes. In his ‘ Pastime of Pleasure/ first printed in 1509, he notices with praise several of the great poet’s works. ^ These are the ‘ Canterbury Tales/ the ‘ House of Fame/ the ‘ Legend of Good Women/ and ‘Troilus and Cressida.’ He also pays the custom- ary tribute to Gower. But it is for Lydgate that he re- serves his greatest enthusiasm and his choicest epithets.^ Again and again he affectionately terms him his master. Upon his greatness his mind dwells fondly. He is de- scribed as “ the most dulcet spring of famous rheto- ric.”^ He is, Hawes is particular to tell us, “the chief original of my learning.”^ The admiration of a dull man by one still duller is not a circumstance to excite surprise or even remark. The only objectionable feature connected with it in this case, if there be any, is that Chaucer should have also a share in the appreciation which this author was capable of feeling. For his praise was not of a kind to make the recipient proud. To the general reader Hawes and his works are unknown; known he is, in fact, only to the antiquary. It must be admitted that the general reader has the best of it. The ‘ Pastime of Pleasure,’ of which mention has just been made, has certainly one of the most misleading titles to be found in English literature. The trivial and the careless, least of all, need delude themselves with the fancy that it Avas for them the work was designed. It provides just the sort of pastime and furnishes just the degree of pleasure that might be expected from one ^ See pp. 53, 71, 137, etc., of Percy ^ Ib., pp. 46, 54, 56, 220. Society edition. ^ Ib., p. 55. Ib., p. 55. POPULARITY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 33 who looked upon Lydgate as his master and took him for his model/ With the introduction of printing into England, we are at once upon firmer ground for testing Chaucer’s popularity. The evidence now to be given is of the most unimpeachable character. Two editions of the ‘Canterbury Tales ’ were published by Caxton. Before the close of the fifteenth century t hree mo re of the same work followed from the presses of his successors, Wyn- ken de Worde and Pynson. Five large folio editions of his greatest work within a space of less than twenty-five years are sufficient to show that his fame had undergone no diminution in the century that had passed since hist- death. Nor does the list just given exhaust all the testi-^ mony of this nature. Many of the minor pieces were also printed, several of them several' times. They were printed not only in England, but in Scotland. Three editions of the ‘Troilus and Cressida’ came out before it was included in the folio of 1532, which first contained the poet’s collected works. There is no English writer either at that time or for a long period after who can point to such a record. Nor did the demand for Chau- cer’s productions cease during the course of the six- teenth century. It increased rather than diminished with the apparently liberal supply already furnished. Between 1532 and 1 561, inclusive, a period of less than thirty years, in addition to the volumes of the separate poems already in circulation, the readers of that day were able to absorb four editions of his complete works. This simple bibliographical fact is a proof of his popu- larity which outweighs in the value of its testimony any- III.-3 34 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY thing and everything that can be drawn from the purely literary sources of the time, or that could be drawn from them were they as abundant as they are actually scanty. For these folios were bulky volumes, which it required money to buy as well as strength to handle. At that time, too, the population of England was comparatively small. Of that small population the reading public was comparatively limited. We must come to very modern times before anything approaching this popularity can be predicated of any poet. It can undoubtedly be conceded that something of the interest taken in Chaucer during the sixteenth cen- tury was not a legitimate literary interest. It was due to causes quite distinct from those which had given him his previous popularity. I have pointed out in a pre- ceding chapter that he at that time gained repute for reasons of which he himself could hardly have dreamed, and that he was credited with a character at which he would have been the first to smile.* It was not always the poet that was admired so much as the supposed re- former. Not for the beauty of his verse, but for the keenness of his* satire and the exposure of the rotten- ness of the religious life of his time, did he become a favorite of the fierce Puritan element that saw in the papal church the mystic Babylon foretold in Apoca- lyptic vision, which sat upon the seven hills, and was drunk with the blood of the saints. To denounce that church was a duty. To be thought to have early de- nounced it entitled one to a place among the forerun- ners of the Reformation. The ascription to Chaucer of ‘ See vol. ii., p. 463. POPULARITY WITH THE PURITANS 35 the spurious ‘Plowman’s Tale’ gave the seal of cer- tainty to the' belief about him which men were predis- posed to hold. After that production was regularly en- rolled among his genuine works in the edition of 1542, the members of the Roman Catholic party were placed at a disadvantage, so far as he was concerned. It ap- parently never occurred to them to question the genu- ineness of the poem. All that was left, therefore, was to maintain a discreet silence about it, and about the religious views of its author. Not so the Protestants. They were careful to bring him forward as one of their champions. We can see the sort of contest that raged about Chaucer’s name in the account of his life as found in the respective collections of Bale and Pits. Almost the only addition that the former made to Poland’s biography was a sentence in- dicative of the poet’s hostile attitude towards the church of Rome. After giving a list of his works. Bale went on to say that he also “ wrote many other things, in which he spoke with little approval of the idle life of the monks, the exceeding multitude of masses, the incom- prehensible canonical hours, relics, pilgrimages and cere- monies.”' To counteract the injurious attacks made by Bale upon the Roman Catholic clergy was the main cause which led Pits to prepare his account of English writers. This is explicitly asserted by William Bishop, who contributed the dedicatory preface to the volume, which was published after the author’s death. He in- ^ “ Aliaque plura fecit, in quibus intellectas, reliquias, perigrinationes monachorum ocia, missantium tarn ac caerimonias parum probavit.” magnam multitudinem, boras non 36 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY forms us that Leland’s work had been satisfactory, so far as it went. It seems, however, that some hell had vomited up a certain apostate called Bale, easily to be recognized by his name as a servant of the idol Baal. This man had gone about inveighing against the great- est popes and the most holy men. He had aspersed their lives, and had cast contumely upon their writings. To vindicate the ancient glory of these authors, and to keep the pestilent work of Bale out of the hands of the faithful, was the object Pits set out to accomplish. But while his professed aim was to clear English writers from the foul calumnies cast upon them in the work he was seeking to replace, it is noticeable that in the case of Chaucer he contented himself with merely omitting the added statement of Bale. He does not contradict it. Nor does he venture to deny the genuineness of the ‘ Plowman’s Tale,’ or make any effort to defend the poet from the charge of having attacked the superstitious practices of the Roman church. In so doing, or rather in so not doing, he followed the usual course of silence. But silence practically amounted to a confession that no defence could be maintained. The result was that Chau- cer continued to be enrolled without protest among the forerunners of the Reformation. This admiration of the poet, which had its origin in the belief of his being a Reformer, undoubtedly added largely to his popularity with the iconoclasts of the six- teenth century. The feeling extended to their descend- ants, who, in their zeal to extirpate everything that sa- vored of Baal, as they regarded the papacy, overturned finally the church that was suspected of leaning towards POPULARITY WITH THE PURITANS 37 it and the government that was supposed to sympathize with the Romanizing tendencies of the church, and fur- nished England, in consequence, for two centuries with a not altogether savory royal martyr. Instances of this admiration crop out sometimes in the most unexpected quarters. Milton’s acquaintance with his great prede- cessor might have been safely assumed, even had he never written a line in which his name was mentioned. But Chaucer continued a favorite of many of the rank and file of the educated class that were attached to the Puritan party. In the very midst of the civil war we find a curious correspondence going on between a Par- liamentary officer and the poet Cleveland, who was act- ing at the time as judge advocate of the royalist garrison at Newark. In it each amiably endeavored to insult the other as far as was consistent with true politeness. In the course of the correspondence the Parliamentary offi- cer draws one of his illustrations from Chaucer’s writings. He makes mention of the Friar who pretended to cure souls with the shoulder-bone of one of the lost sheep. ^ The reference was in several ways a mistaken one. It attributed, in particular, to the Friar what should have been given to the Pardoner. But in the midst of mili- tary operations one can hardly be expected to carry about with him a heavy folio to refresh his memory and to verify quotations. It is not that such a reference to Chaucer’s works is inaccurate which should excite sur- prise ; it is that it should have ever been made at all. Theology, like misery, makes us acquainted with strange bedfellows. To modern eyes there is some- ^ Cleveland’s Poems (1665), p. 207. 38 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY thing almost grotesque in the fact that Chaucer should have been a favorite of the adherents of the stern creed of Calvin, who, not content with hating impurity, frowned upon pleasure. For if we accept Heine’s distinction of the two great opposing forces in modern civilization, none have been more conspicuously the representatives of the Hebraic element than the Puritans of the sixteenth century. In them both its best and its worst aspects are to be found exemplified. On the other hand, of all the English poets no one is so fully the representative of the Hellenic element as Chaucer. No one has felt more keenly than he, and expressed more vividly, the joy of life as life. In him, too, can be recognized the Hellenic clearness of vision which saw human nature exactly as it was, and did not lack the courage to depict it. Equally in him can be found its freedom from excitement and passion which to many seems freedom from earnestness. Nowhere, indeed, is this more noticeable than in the calmness of his attitude towards the religious sentiment itself, not in the sense of being indifferent to it, but in the sense of looking upon it as one of many forces that influence life instead of embodying the one supreme ob- ject for which life is lived. That by any combination of circumstances the serious and even sombre Puritan ele- ment of the sixteenth century should liave come to re- gard the poet of joyousness and gayety and chivalry as a burning and shining light in the religious world is one of those freaks of fancy which seem always happening as if designed to make perfectly clear the utter empti- ness of the inferences of the reason. Still, to a great ex- tent such was the fact. We can see, therefore, that in POPULARITY WITH THE PURITANS 39 the case of many it was not a love of literature that broiight familiarity with Chaucer’s writings, but admira- tion for his supposed theology. Least of all was it any disposition to tolerate impurity that led to their overlooking what may have seemed objectionable, or to their condoning what must have seemed sinful. They forgave the evil for the sake of the testimony that had been borne and for the service that had been rendered in the exposure of the corruptions that had poisoned the purity of the primitive faith. If this way of judging the* character of a man’s work be erroneous, it is by no means peculiar. There is a supply of modern illustrations of the same method of proceeding sufficiently ample to keep the Puritans in countenance. So long as Prot- estants of the nineteenth century are enabled to look upon Henry VIII. as a reformer, Protestants of the six- teenth century may be pardoned for treating Chaucer as a saint. Something of the poet’s repute was certainly due to this source, at least for a limited period. To suppose that much was due to it would be a great error. There is evidence, indeed, that Chaucer’s writings were looked upon coldly by men of that class to whom all efforts of the creative imagination lack what they are pleased to call truth. So wide was his popularity, so universal was the acquaintance with his writings, that his greatest work came early to be almost a synonym for fictitious narra- tive of any sort. As such it would naturally fall under the ban of that somewhat dreary body of men, in whom the Anglo-Saxon race has always abounded, who look askance upon all literature which deals with matters 40 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY outside of the region of figures and facts. This class, often composed of good men, invariably of prosaic men, did not escape the observation of Chaucer himself. He represents as belonging to it his Parson, a man morally of a lofty type of character, but plainly marked in certain respects by intellectual narrowness. When he comes to tell his story he informs his auditors that in anything he says he will not deviate in the slightest degree from the truth. “ Fables and such wretchedness’’ is the compre- hensive term he applies to everything that is not in ac- cordance with actual fact. Why should he sow chaff, he asks, when it is in his power to sow wheat ? This is the spirit with which he introduces his own didactic and rather dull discourse. It is a spirit of a precisely similar nature that is exhibited in the famous Retractation ap- pended to the ‘ Canterbury Tales.’ The genuineness of the addition can only be conceded on the assumption that the poet, at a period of life when physical and intel- lectual strength were failing, had fallen under the influ- ence of men of very earnest convictions and of very lim- ited ideas. If Chaucer could put into the mouth of one of his own characters a comment that implied that nearly every- thing which had been related during the pilgrimage was in the eyes of the speaker trivial, where it was not worse, we may be sure that criticism of the same kind did not die out in the centuries that followed. Much of what he wrote would have been ill-suited to the taste of the men who were engaged in the theological conflicts of the sixteenth century. That work of this nature did fall under their condemnation is clear from the con- POPULARITY WITH THE PURITANS 41 temptuous way in which a story, especially improbable, came to be termed a Canterbury tale. Here again the fury of religious controversy added its intensity of mean- ing to an estimate which was based primarily upon dul- ness of apprehension and incapacity of appreciation. With the primacy of Canterbury the papacy was, from the nature of things, largely identified. The pilgrimage to the shrine of its martyred archbishop had been the most famous of all while England remained under the sway of the Roman church. It was natural that any phrase which disparaged it should become a popular one with the reforming party. It enabled its members to fling contempt upon the side they hated without ap- pearing to make a direct attack. “ If we take it,” said Cranmer, speaking of the gospel, for a Canterbury tale, why do we not refuse it ?” ^ Language of this kind — and it is but one instance out of many — shows decisively the existence of a general acquaintance with the poet’s great- est work. But it likewise gives the impression that to some serious souls the matter it contained was vanity, as to dull souls it undoubtedly was vexation of spirit. Had not Chaucer’s value as an ally come early to be recognized, it is not improbable that many of the voices which blessed his memory would have hastened to be- stow upon it some vigorous maledictions. It is not, however, to the men who were taking part in the stormy religious controversies of the period that we are to look for genuine appreciation of the poet as poet. Fortunately, we do not need to look to them. The recognized superiority of Chaucer down to the end ' Cranmer’s Miscellaneous Writings and Letters, p. 198 (Parker Society). 42 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY of the sixteenth century can be easily demonstrated by an appeal to sources that are purely literary. It re- mained undisputed, although the effects that result from the changes that had taken place in the language had begun to operate. These necessarily gave to all that he wrote a sense of remoteness and strangeness, and to some of it obscurity and even incomprehensibility. Still, on the part of the greatest men of letters there prevailed a loyalty to his memory that permitted no one to occupy a place by his side. In the ‘ Shepherd’s Calendar,’ Chau- cer is styled “ the god of shepherds,” which is explained in the glossary as signifying “ the god of poets.” The phrase, after its appearance in this work, was henceforth specifically applied to him by the critical writers of the time. He is so termed by Webbe in his ‘ Discourse of English Poetry,’ and by Meres in his ‘ Palladis Tamia.’ But references to him of all sorts abound in the sixteenth century. They embrace numerous names, from Ascham, who about the middle of it styles Chaucer the English Homer, to Camden, who towards the end of it uses of him the same phrase, and asserts that he had left far be- hind all others who had written since. Of these he spoke with unnecessary asperity, but in the true antiquarian spirit, as poetasters. Besides these two celebrated schol- ars, the early poet was made the subject of panegyric by a number of authors, the chief claim of some of whom to mention now is that they mentioned Chaucer then. There are too many of these references to be quoted, and the most important of them are too well known to need quotation. There is one man, however, whose words cannot be ADMIRATION EXPRESSED BY SPENSER 43 passed over without attention. This was Edmund Spen- ser. For the influence exerted over him by Chaucer, and for the influence exerted by him over others ; for the loftiness of his own literary position, and the fulness of his acknowledgment of what he owed to his predecessor, he stands in a peculiar relation to the founder of English literature. Of all the admirers of the early poet who flourished at that period, Spenser was the most emphatic in his praise. Of all his readers, he was the most pro- foundly influenced by his language and literary methods. His admiration began early. It continued to increase till the time when, expiring in wretchedness and want, his dying request was that his body might be laid by the side of the master he loved and honored. The epithet he applied to him in his first work has already been given. But there are many other passages in the ‘ Shepherd’s Calendar’ in which he gives expression to his feelings of regard. To Tityrus, as he uniformly designates his pred- ecessor, he acknowledges that he owes everything. He it was who had first taught him how to write. He it was who knew best of all how to bewail the woes of love. If upon him, homely shepherd as he was, some portion of that mighty spirit’s poetic inspiration should fall, he soon could teach trees and forests to sympathize with sorrows of his own. It is noticeable that in the passage of the ‘ Shepherd’s Calendar’ in which Spenser makes the fullest admission of the obligations he was under to his predecessor, he asserted that Chaucer’s reputation was steadily increas- ing. The poet was gone, he tells us. Gone, too, was his surpassing skill. 44 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY “ The fame whereof doth daily greater grow .” ' This was no mere language of compliment. It indicated a condition of things in exact accordance with fact. The ‘ Shepherd’s Calendar’ appeared in 1579. that date, the authors who were to make the Elizabethan age renowned were mostly in their minority. The drama, the great national literature of the time, had not yet emancipated itself from the bondage of ryme. Not yet had Marlowe’s ‘‘ mighty line” revealed the pos- sibilities that lay in blank verse. Chaucer, in spite of his ill-understood grammar, his misunderstood versifi- cation, and his obsolete words, continued yet to reign without a rival. In the general intellectual movement then going on in England, interest in him as being still far its greatest author naturally increased rather than diminished. The difficulties which soon afterwards kept most men from the perusal of his writings acted then rather as a stimulant to their study. * In his letter of June, 1597, the dramatist Beaumont reminds his friend ^ Speght of the zeal in this direction that had prevailed during their university life. ‘‘And here,” he writes, “ I cannot forget to remember unto you those ancient learned men of our time in Cambridge, whose diligence in reading of his works themselves, and commending them unto others of the younger sort, did first bring you and me in love with him ; and one of them at that time, and all his life after, was (as you know) one of the ^ rarest men for learning in the whole world.” Spenser’s direct obligations to Chaucer are numerous. All his writings show intimate acquaintance with those Shepherd's Calendar, June, line 92. ADMIRATION EXPRESSED BY SPENSER 45 of his predecessor. In the extent of his imitations, and in the frequency of his references to the events and personages made famous by the elder poet, he rivals the Scotch authors of whom mention has already been made. He attempted a more daring experiment. In the fourth book of the ‘Fairy Queen,’ he ventured to add a conclusion to the Squire’s tale. He looked upon the poem as having been actually completed by Chaucer. The disappearance of the original ending he imputed to the ravages of time, which had so often wrought ruin to the “ works of heavenly wits.” The task of re- storing the conclusion, which he fancied lost, was some- thing beyond the achievement of his powers, great as they were. A similar attempt was made before his time, and some have been made sinc,e. Where Spenser failed, it is vain to expect others to succeed. The poem, like the unfinished column of Aladdin’s palace, will remain forever as it was deft by the mighty magician who had reared the stately structure which none but he could bring to perfection. But no finer tribute has been paid to any poet than this apologetic verse with which Spenser introduces his attempt : “ Then pardon, O most sacred happy spirit ! That I thy labors lost may thus revive. And steal from thee the meed of thy due merit. That none durst ever whilst thou wast alive, And being dead in vain yet many strive : Ne dare I like ; but through infusion sweet Of thine own spirit which doth in me survive, I follow here the footing of thy feet. That with thy meaning so I may the rather meet.” 46 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY Spenser’s admiration for Chaucer, combined with his own pre-eminent position as a poet, exerted for a time a peculiar influence upon versification and language. The Elizabethan age is to us above everything else a creative age. For that very reason there has come largely to exist an impression that in no respect was it a critical age. The general idea is that men content- ed themiselves with doing and saying great things, and left it to the art of later times to describe the things they did, and how and why they happened so to do them. But this is limiting our attention to the purely external aspects of the period. It entirely hides from us the view of much of its inner intellectual life. The literary agitation was as pronounced as the political or religious, though its manifestations naturally do not ap- pear to the world on so grand a scale. The attempt to confine the new wine of what we should call romanticism in the old classical bottles produced just the same vio- lent ferment that has marked the history of many later commotions of the same general nature, though the controversies to which they then gave rise have received scant notice at the hands of critics and historians. Upon nearly every question men at that time were drawn up in hostile camps. The period was one of conflict, al- most of revolution. Everything was untried ; every- thing, therefore, remained to be tried. In a general way, it can be said that a battle went on actively between the partisans of the purely classical movement and the partisans of the modern movement which had taken unto itself no specific name. There was a time when it might have looked to a superficial observer as if the CONTROVERSIES IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 47 former would triumph. The human mind was shaking off the trammels of ecclesiastical and political servi- tude ; but into literary servitude it seemed bent to en- ter of its own accord. This tendency, was displayed at the outset in the great national literature of the time, the drama. In that the contest between the adherents and the opponents of the doctrine of the unities was as earnest and even as viru- lent as any that has raged since, though it has left the record of its strife rather in chance allusions than in controversial pamphlets bearing directly upon the sub- ject. Still, Sidney was as earnest in denouncing the neglect of the unities of time and place as he was in exposing the grossest absurdities that had then found a home upon the stage. The observance of them was accepted and taught by Ben Jonson with an unreserved- ness that would have satisfied the most exacting critic of the eighteenth century. In practice he conformed to his theory with exceeding precision, so far as his comedies were concerned. There can be little ques- tion that it was his great contemporary’s general dis- regard of the unities to which he referred when he told Drummond of Hawthornden that Shakspeare wanted art. That the supremest of dramatic poets deliberately emancipated himself from their tyranny is made certain by the fact that at times he as de- liberately submitted to it. He could have been nei- ther unacquainted with nor indifferent to a question the merits of which he must have heard discussed daily. It was not ignorance or carelessness, therefore, that led him to reject in his general practice the observance 48 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY of this doctrine. It was conviction founded upon the study of his art. In this matter he put himself not ac- cidentally, but advisedly, in opposition to the partisans of the purely classical school. Yet at times he con- formed to their views. In the case of one of his later pieces he makes his conformity noticeable. No one can read the ‘ Tempest,’ with this matter before his mind, and fail to observe how persistently attention is called to the unity of time. Again and again, in the course of the play, reference is made to the hour when the action begins and to the hour when it is to end. The stress which is laid upon this one point proves un- mistakably that there was a deliberate design to make it prominent. It leads naturally to the conclusion that in this particular piece Shakspeare set out to show his critics what he could do in this method, if he were dis- posed to accept the doctrine which he rejected. But a controversy which indirectly affected Chaucer was that which went on in regard to the proper method of versification. A persistent effort was made at this period by a clamorous, if not very numerous, party to banish ryme from poetry. In one form of it the move- ment met with success. Blank verse, introduced into the language by Surrey, introduced into the drama by Sackville, and perfected by Marlowe, took possession of the stage, and gave the play-writer an instrument of ex- pression which adapted itself with equal fitness and fa- cility to the level of ordinary conversation and to the highest flights of the imagination. But a half-way course, which, while using a ryming measure, contented itself with merely stripping it of ryme, was not one which CONTROVERSIES IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 49 satisfied the adherents of the classical school. Ascham early pointed out that blank verse was good so far as it went, but that it did not go far enough. It observed, he said, just measure and even feet ; but its feet were not distinct by true quantity of syllables. It was no negative result of this sort which the men who shared his views were aiming to bring about. They sought to introduce the ancient measures, they wished to make them the exclusive representatives of the metrical moulds into which poetical expression should be cast. The em- ployment of these measures was pressed with urgency by a body of scholars possessed of much learning, but in this matter not possessed of much intelligence. Lum- bering hexameters and dolorous sapphics consequently made their appearance in English literature. Other classical measures were recommended for adoption. These were not to take their place by the side of ryme as a supplementary method of versification. They were to take the place of it. Ryming was to be driven out entirely. The great Greek and Roman writers had avoided it ; therefore it was a thing to be avoided as bad in itself. The partisans of the classical school accord- ingly agreed in condemning its employment. They re- peated Ascham’s assertion that ryme was a rude and barbarous invention, first brought into use by the Goths and Huns, and then unhappily introduced into the mod- ern literatures of Europe by men of excellent wit, it is true, but of little learning and of less judgment. Hence the substitution of it for the ancient classic measures was the principal thing needed to lift English poetry from the degradation into which it had fallen. III.— 4 50 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY The feeling operated curiously upon literary judg- ments. It led to a fanciful admiration of the ‘Vision of Piers Plowman.’ This poem gained for a while a species of fictitious reputation with the adherents of the clas- sical school because it lacked ryme, and was therefore ignorantly supposed to represent a verse founded upon quantity. “As Homer,” says Meres in ‘ Palladis Tamia,’ “ was the first that adorned the Greek tongue with true quantity, so Piers Plowman was the first that observed the true quantity of our verse without the curiosity of ryming.” This same sentiment about the classical meas- ures affected also to a certain degree the estimation in which Chaucer himself was held in the sixteenth cen- tury. Something of the admiration bestowed upon him was tempered by the feeling that in the matter of met- rical measures he had subordinated his genius to the de- mands of a barbarous age. He had no more ardent admirer than Ascham ; but that scholar could not but deplore that the English Homer, as he calls him, had not followed the best examples in versification, so as not to have been led by time and custom to content himself, with rude and beggarly ryming. But even more than it affected the estimate of the poet did it affect the belief that prevailed as to the character of the metre he em- ployed. Knowledge of its nature was revived in the last century by Tyrwhitt. The question naturally arises, When did ignorance of its nature begin, or at least be- come universal? How far did there exist in the six- teenth century acquaintance with the peculiarities of Chaucer’s verse? To what extent were his lines then believed to be exact and harmonious? What means CONTROVERSIES IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 51 existed, if any existed at all, to remove apparent irregu- larities ? On the general question we have conflicting state- ments. “ For his verses,” writes Speght, in his prefa- tory address, “ although in divers places they may seem to us to stand of unequal measures, yet a skilful reader that can scan them in their nature shall find it other- wise. And if a verse here and there fall out a syllable shorter or longer than another, I rather aret^ it to the negligence and rape^ of Adam Scrivener, that I may speak as Chaucer doth, than to any uncunning or over- sight in the author.” This passage appears in the edi- tion of 1602, but not in that of 1598. There is every reason to believe, in consequence, that it owes its inspira- tion, if not even its wording, to the antiquary Francis Thynne. When this folio was reprinted in 1687, the ad- dress to the readers was retained in its entirety. It was the doctrine laid down in the sentences that have just been quoted which Dryden controverted in the famous critical essay he prefixed to his modernizations. He, in- deed, seems to have taken it as the view of the contem- porary editor. He insisted strongly that there was no regularity in many of Chaucer’s lines, and that there was no system of scansion by which they could be made reg- ular. The theory set forth in this prefatory address was, in his opinion, manifestly wrong. From the point of view of the seventeenth century, and with the knowl- edge possessed by it, wrong it certainly was. Moreover, in spite of Speght’s assertion, it is question- able if the sixteenth century was, in this respect, much ^ Impute. Haste. 52 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY better off than the seventeenth. There is reason to be- lieve that the former found trouble in reading Chaucer’s poetry of the same kind as did the latter, though by no means to the same degree. At almost its very begin- ning there occur passages which give the impression that difficulty had been experienced with his versification. Skelton, in his poem of ‘ Philip Sparrow,’ devotes a pas- sage to the consideration of the English tongue, which he speaks of as rude and unpolished. In the course of it he refers to the language of Chaucer as “ At those dayes moch commended, And now men wolde have amended His Englysh, wherat they barke. And mar all they warke.” 796-799. Later in the century we find a positive statement to the effect that the poet’s lines were irregular. Gascoigne, in his ‘Instructions concerning the Making of Verse and Rhyme in English,’ accompanying an edition of his poems printed in 1575, asserts the fact in unmistakable language. “ Our father Chaucer,” he wrote, “ hath used the same liberty in feet and measures that the Latinists do use; and whosoever do peruse and well consider his works, he shall find that although his lines are not always of one self-same number of syllables, yet being read by one that hath understanding the longest verse and that which hath most syllables in it will fall (to the ear) cor- respondent unto that which hath fewest syllables in it, and likewise that which hath in it fewest syllables shall be found yet to consist of words that have such natural sound as may seem equal in length to a verse which hath many mo syllables of lighter accent.” IRREGULARITY OF VERSIFICATION 53 Here we find in the quotation just given the influence of the extreme classical school asserting itself. Irregu- larity on the part of the early writers was imputed to their credit. It evinced a noble disdain of the sense- less and monotonous jingle which had come to be the normal rule of poetry. There was, therefore, a tendency to regard unevenness, or rather ruggedness, as a virtue, instead of deploring it as a defect. By men who looked upon ryming verse as a monstrosity, preservation of the harmony of ryming verse would not seem a matter of consequence. One reason, therefore, why regularity of accent was not believed to exist was because men did not wish to find it. To have a different number of syl- lables in the lines, but to have the lines when properly pronounced of the same length, was to say that there was an approach, at least, to the classical standard, in which the verse was governed by quantity, and not de- pendent upon equality of syllables. To this extent Chaucer then gained repute with some for what would be deemed by most a fault. He was praised for it then. Praise of the same sort has been repeated in modern times. During the centuries that have followed the in- vention of printing, there have always been those who have taken pleasure, or at any rate have expressed pleas- ure, in his assumed homeliness of versification. This was not invariably due to antiquarian taste, though, as we shall see later, it was in some instances. But at all times there exists a body of men, which body at certain times grows to be comparatively numerous, who come to have a feeling of positive dislike for the smoothness and harmony of the poetic forms in established use. They 54 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY are possessed by a fondness for the outlandish, the bi- zarre, or at least the unusual. This fondness does not extend very wide, nor does it continue for a very long period. It is limited to a small class ; but as that class is almost always composed of men of more than ordi- nary acquirements and ability, it is apt to produce for the while it lasts a good deal of an impression. In the sixteenth century this feeling occasionally combined it- self with the movement that went on against ryme. The assumed irregularity of Chaucer’s versification was ac- cordingly looked upon by all such adherents of the clas- sical party as something for which he was to be honored. He had not freed himself from the barbarousness of ryme ; but he had, to some extent, observed quantity. It is clear from what has been said that a conflict of opinion existed at the time in regard to the regularity of Chaucer’ s versification. Here it is that Spenser’s practice enables us to ascertain the nature and the de- gree of the knowledge that then prevailed upon the sub- ject. An examination of his poems shows the existence of certain characteristics which, though obsolete in the common speech, still retained poetic vitality. It also shows, to a slight extent, the employment by him of grammatical forms which had died out of the language entirely, list of these peculiarities is not a long one. The cn of the infinitive and of the plural of the present tense, and the ed of the preterite and of the past participle, could constitute a distinct syllable. So, also, could the cs of the genitive singular and of the plural. The eden of the preterite plural was occasionally used to form two syllables. As two syllables also appeared frequently, the SIXTEENTH-CENTURY PRONUNCIATION 55 termination ion^ with the principal accent resting upon the final one. At times, moreover, though not often, words such, for instance, as carriage were pronounced as if they contained three syllables. In this way the normal measure of the verse could be maintained. All these things belong to the versification of Chaucer, and their application to his lines will in many instances re- lieve them of seeming irregularities. Spenser exempli- fies them all. One characteristic, however, of his prede- cessor that is lacking entirely in him is the pronuncia- tion of the final e. jKnowledge of that was, to all ap- pearance, wholly lost. Variation of accent also existed on a very limited scale. As practised by Chaucer, it was certainly not well understood. The 07 i of the termina- tion ion did receive the principal accent, it is true, and in this the early poet’s example was followed. But so, also, did the ed of the past participle receive the princi- pal accent, and in this his example was not followed. There are lines in Spenser in which the principal accent falls even upon ctJi, the termination of the third person singular of the present tense of the verb. This would have been impossible to Chaucer, and, indeed, has been exceedingly rare in English versification at any period. These are the facts that can be gathered from the practice of Spenser. They show what are the rules that were adopted by a diligent student of Chaucer for the purpose of reading his verse as he supposed the author intended it to be read. But while the observance of these rules would make many lines harmonious, it would not so affect them all. Against that the failure to pronounce the final e was an absolute barrier. The 56 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY result was that even among the professed disciples of the elder poet a certain degree of ruggedness was con- ceded to his metre. It is in the two productions enti- tled ‘ Mother Hubbard’s Tale ’ and ‘ Colin Clout ’s Come Home Again’ that we find the most palpable illustra- tions of Spenser’s imitation of his predecessor’s versifi- cation, and almost the only illustrations of roughness in his own versification. It is the former of these pieces that is usually spoken of as having owed its inspiration directly to the ‘ Canterbury Tales.’ This seems a view for which there is no justification. The custom of im- puting to beasts the thoughts and actions of men is too ancient and too general to be regarded as the exclusive property of any one author. Neither of the two produc- tions mentioned can be deemed an imitation of Chaucer’s matter, or even of his manner. The resemblances in this respect are purely superficial. Spenser’s poetic quality is something so distinct from that of Chaucer’s that he would have been unable to succeed in such an imitation had he tried, and there is no evidence that he tried. He was, in fact, too great a poet to be a thorough-going imi- tator of even so great a poet as Chaucer. But while both his matter and manner were essentially different from his predecessor’s, he did strive in the pieces mentioned to reproduce, so far as in him lay, his method of versifi- cation. He who reads, in particular, ‘Mother Hubbard’s Tale’ will gain a fair conception of the way in which Chaucer sounded to the men of the sixteenth century. There are lines in this piece that lack the proper num- ber of syllables. There are lines that are remarkable for nothing so much as for their lack of harmony. There SIXTEENTH-CENTURY PRONUNCIATION 57 are entire passages that are throughout written in what would strike us as a lame and halting metred In a writer whose natural melody is almost cloying in its smoothness and sweetness, such a deviation from his usual practice could not be due to accident. It was the result of design. It was adopted for no other reason than that Chaucer was believed to have furnished the example of this sort of ruggedness in the measure. The view just given of Spenser’s versification enables us, accordingly, to make with comparative safety certain general statements about the extent of the knowledge of Chaucer’s versification which existed in the sixteenth century. For most educated men the harmony of his numbers had disappeared almost entirely. All he could rely upon for the maintenance of his reputation was the weight of his matter — a very insecure foundation for permanent fame in an art to which beauty of form is as essential as beauty of conception. With men of letters, however, who were special students of his verse, there existed devices to give regularity to many, perhaps to most, of his lines. When all means known to these failed, the lack of regularity was either imputed to in- difference on his part, or the burden, which was too heavy for him as a poet to bear, was transferred to the broader shoulders of the unknown and depraved but much-enduring scribe. It is evident that even this lim- ited acquaintance with his methods of versification was confined to a small class which had a steady tendency to become smaller. As familiarity with his versification was not founded upon perfect knowledge, it Avas merely » See, for illustration, lines 142-146, 183-188,211-214, 515-540, etc. 58 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY a question of time when it should become more and more vague in its character, and at last disappear en- tirely. That result was speedily to overtake it. Per- haps it was hastened rather than hindered by the con- test that comes now to be considered, which went on in regard to language. Among the Elizabethan writers there were two parties that held very diverse views in regard to the diction of poetry. At the head of one of these was Spenser. On account of his conspicuous position his words are the ones mainly to be considered. We do not need to go outside of his practice to find his theory best exempli- fied. In his eyes Chaucer is the representative of all that is best and purest in language, at least in the lan- guage of poetry. He is, as he terms him, ‘‘the well of English undefiled.” To revive his forgotten words or forgotten meanings, to make use of his abandoned in- flections, so far as could be done, was an object he kept steadily in view. His ideas were formulated in the pref- atory letter to Gabriel Harvey, signed E. K., which ac- companied the ‘ Shepherd’s Calendar’ on its publication in 1579. this the employment of old and obsolete words was defended as bringing grace and authority to the verse. “ In my opinion,” says the writer, “ it is one special praise 6f many which are due to this poet, that he hath labored to restore as to their rightful heritage such good and natural English words as have been long time out of use and clean disherited. Which is the only cause that our mother tongue, which truly of itself is both full enough for prose and stately enough for verse, hath long time been counted most bare and barren of REVIVAL OF CHAUCER’S WORDS 59 both.” The writer of this prefatory epistle then pro- ceeds to censure those who have attempted to patch up the deficiencies in the language by borrowing here and there of the French and Italian, and everywhere of the Latin. He furthermore attacks those who are so igno- rant of their own speech as to cry out against old English words, even though natural and significant. Of these he speaks with undisguised contempt. Their ‘‘ first shame,” he remarks, “ is that they are not ashamed in their own mother tongue to be counted strangers and aliens.” Spenser did not limit himself in his choice of words to the works, genuine or spurious, of Chaucer. Still, it was from them that he drew a large proportion of the archaic vocabulary and grammar he employed.^ His in- fluence was so wide in his own time that his course of conduct begot many imitators. To use the obsolete words of the early poet, or still existing words in the ob- solete senses they had in his time, or to lengthen the line by the use of his obsolete inflections, became to some extent a literary fashion. It frequently met with praise from men who in their own writings did not fol- low the practice. It is the subject of special commen- dation paid to Spenser himself in the letter that the dramatist Beaumont wrote to Speght. “ His much fre- quenting of Chaucer’s ancient words,” he said, “ with his excellent imitation of diverse places in him, is not the least help that hath made him reach so high as many ^ In the appendix to the first vol- bounds to say of those that are in lime of Grosart’s Works of Spenser, .any way distinctive that for much p. 408 flf. , there is a list given of about the larger number of them it is not 550 words and phrases that are de- necessary to go outside of Chaucer’s dared to have been taken from the works. Lancashire dialect. It is well within 6o CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY learned men do think that no poet, either French or Italian, deserves a second place under him.” On the other hand, there was a party which from the very outset looked upon this practice with undis- guised hostility. Sidney, to whom the ‘ Shepherd’s Cal- endar’ was dedicated, cannot in this matter be reckoned among the adherents of Spenser. While approving the poetry of that work, he hesitatingly expressed his disap- probation of the archaic and dialectic terms in which it abounded. “ That same framing of his style,” he wrote, “ to an old rustic language I dare not allow.” Putten- ham was more outspoken. “ Our maker, therefore, at these days,” he said, “ shall not follow Piers Plowman, nor Gower, nor Lydgate, nor yet Chaucer, for their lan- guage is now out of use with us.” The poet Daniel, himself deeply interested in questions of speech and ver- sification, put himself speedily upon record in the dis- cussion of this matter, as he did in the controversy in regard to ryme. He was a sincere admirer of Spenser; yet in 1592 he attacked the obsolete diction of the ‘ Fairy Queen,’ the first three books of which had been published two years before. “ Let others sing of knights and paladins In aged accents and untimely words,” are the lines with which he begins the fifty-second of his sonnets to Delia. Edmund Bolton, the antiquarian writer, is even more explicit. His ^ Hypercritica’ is thought to have been written about 1610, though it was not pub- lished until 1722. In it he has one section devoted to the works of the authors who are to be looked upon as , REVIVAL OF CHAUCER’S WORDS 6 1 authorities for the choice of words. These he speaks of as “ prime gardens for gathering English according to the true gage and standard of the tongue about sixteen years ago.” He is remarkable for directly denying the authority of Spenser. His ‘ Hymns/ indeed, he recom- mends. Not so his more famous works. “ I cannot ad- vise,” he writes, “ the allowance of other his poems, as for practick English, no more than I can do Geff. Chau- cer, Lydgate, Peirce Ploughman and Laureate Skelton.” Bolton, indeed, is speaking of the diction which a writer of history should employ. It cannot be assumed, there- fore, that he would have condemned the use of Spenser’s language in poetry. But a name greater than any that has been mentioned is on record as having attacked the introduction of obsolete words without limiting the view to any particular subject. Upon this very point Ben Jon- son expressed himself strongly. In the remarks upon language contained in his ' Discoveries,’ he censures those who affect archaic expressions as, he says, “ some do Chaucerisms with us, which were better expunged and banished.” There was, in some measure, justification for the course taken by Spenser and his imitators. A revival of the poetic words of the past is to a certain extent not unde- sirable nor ineffective. It is something that is going on at the present time. But one essential condition of the permanence of its success is that it shall go on slowly. The appearance of a small number of archaic words and forms will be tolerated, especially in poetry, and will even be welcomed. But if the language is overloaded with them, the object of their introduction is defeated. 62 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY The moment that the study of literature pure and simple is turned into the study of the grammar and the lexicon, it has failed not merely in its main object, but also in its support of the auxiliary cause for which it has sacrificed itself. Poetry ceases to be a pleasure or an inspiration as soon as it begins to need the constant help of an in- terpreter. Whatever temporary success the caprice of fashion may give it, failure in the long run is inevitable. The things that were intended to attract, which perhaps for a time do attract, become eventually the things that repel. Spenser’s archaisms are a case in point. He is an author who has always been reckoned among the very greatest of English poets. He has been a special favor- ite with poets themselves. Yet he has never been able to make his vocabulary live, so far as it differed from the common vocabulary of his time. None of the large number of the obsolete and dialectic words he introduced survived their introduction. None became so familiar through his writings as finally to incorporate themselves into the speech. They are as strange to us now as they were to his contemporaries. Their very number caused them to crowd each other to death. They did even more than destroy their own life : they made his writings diffi- cult to read, and therefore comparatively little read. There was, besides, something more than this to ac- count for the failure. Ben Jonson, who was a scholar, saw at once what was the real difficulty in the matter. “ Spenser,” he said, “ in affecting the ancients writ no lan- guage.” This expresses the actual condition of things, even were we to concede that Jonson himself did not un- derstand the full purport of what he was saying. The REVIVAL OF CHAUCER’S WORDS 63 faults of Spenser’s vocabulary are largely of a quite differ- ent character from that commonly imputed to them. It is not that he brought together the language of the past and of the present, the speech of the educated man and of the rustic, and fashioned from it a dialect which nobody who lived at any time or at any place ever spoke. This is, of course, true. Still, its truth might be conceded by an admirer of the poet who did not feel that it was a serious charge against the diction he employed. But it is far from being the whole truth. Spenser’s errors were of a different and graver character. He failed frequently to understand the words and grammar of the author he admired. Hence his revivals of Chaucer are often not re- vivals of the past, but pure creations of his own fancy, to which nothing similar ever existed in reality. He coins words under the apparent impression that they were ones that had issued from the mint of his predecessor. He gives to words he adopted from Chaucer meanings they never had in the writings of the latter, or in those of any one else. He adds new terminations to old words, in order to make them suitable for ryme. One instance of his understanding or misunderstanding will be sufficient to show the general nature of the mistakes he was always liable to make, and frequently did make. In Anglo- Saxon the irregular verb gdn^ ‘ to go,’ had as a preterite eode. In later English this preterite appeared in several forms, of which ycde and yode are both found. The former occurs in Chaucer, though not frequently. Spen- ser, instead of looking upon them as variants of the same word, regarded them as two different parts of the same strong verb. With him yode appears as a preterite and 64 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY yede ox yeede as an infinitive. It is sufficient to say that as an yede had no real existence. No illustra- tion of its employment can be met with outside of his pages or possibly the pages of some of his imitators, or of one or two of his contemporaries who had committed independently the same error. It is therefore just to say in qualified terms what Jonson said in sweeping ones, that, as a result of his affecting the speech of Chaucer, “ Spenser writ no lan- guage.” He became at times a difficult author, not so much because his words had only an obsolete existence as because they had never had any existence at all. His imitations of his predecessor’s vocabulary were largely spurious. They were therefore foredoomed to failure. To revive the past of a language is a sufficiently arduous undertaking. But to give life to a supposed past that was never a present is something quite beyond the power of a genius greater than was even that of Spenser. Yet there seems to be a fatality about Chaucer in causing the best scholars to make the worst blunders. No one who comes even remotely within the sphere of his influ- ence seems capable of resisting the infection. We can naturally find traces of it in the comments made in re- gard to the efforts avowedly put forth in the sixteenth century to reproduce his diction. Malone, who was usu- ally as accurate as he was dull — it is not easy to give higher praise to his accuracy — ventured to contradict Ben Jonson in his criticism of Spenser’s imitation of the ancient English writers. “The language of the ‘Fairy Queen,’ ” he wrote, “was the poetical language of the age in which he lived ; and, however obsolete it might ap- REVIVAL OF CHAUCER’S WORDS 65 pear to Dryden, was, I conceive, perfectly intelligible to every reader of poetry in the time of Queen Elizabeth, though the ‘ Shepherd’s Calendar’ was not even then un- derstood without a commentary.”^ This statement was quoted approvingly by Todd in his edition of Spenser’s works. It served him as a starting-point from which to enlarge still further the circle of ignorance and misrepre- sentation. Not satisfied with adopting the view just set forth, he went on to speak of Malone as having declared that Jonson’s criticism was directed only against the ‘ Shepherd’s Calendar ’ and not against the ‘ Fairy Queen ’ — which is something that was neither true of what Jon- son said, nor of what Malone said that he had said.^ Mod- ern linguistic study has made it clear that the language of the ‘Fairy Queen’ was the poetical language of the day only so far as the authority of Spenser made it so. His authority was not sufficient to perpetuate it. If the archaisms he borrowed ever renew their life in these later days, it will be because they have become familiar to us in the authors from whom he mainly took them, and not because they have become familiar to us in his pages, where they still seem out of place. These attempts at reviving the versification and vo- cabulary of Chaucer are sufficient of themselves to show how potent his influence still continued to remain in the latter part of the sixteenth century. Abundant proofs of this fact lie everywhere upon the surface, and convey, one would suppose, their own lesson. Yet the lesson has rarely been learned. It has been necessary, in con- ^ Dryden’s Prose Works, vol. iii. , p. 94 (note). III.-5 ^ Todd’s Spenser, vol. i., p. clxiii. 66 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY sequence, to give the details in full because the opposite view has often been promulgated. There is nothing connected with Chaucer’s life and writings that has not been the subject of mistake and misunderstanding, and that too frequently in quarters where it would have been little expected. The question of Chaucer’s reputation in the Elizabethan age furnishes no exception. Much stress need not be laid upon the blunder of a writer like Hippisley, who tells us that, with the exception of Beau- mont and Puttenham, “ there is scarcely any distinct rec- ognition of the poetical merits of the ‘ Canterbury Tales’ anterior to Dryden.”* But there is something to cause surprise in the astounding comparison between the repu- tations of Chaucer and Gower that was made by so dis- tinguished a pioneer in Early-English study as Marsh. That scholar, whose utterances were in general carefully guarded, asserts that for a long time the fame of the lat- ter was much more extensive than that of the former. “ His works,” he writes, as being of a higher moral tone, or at least of higher moral pretensions, and at the same time of less artificial refinement, were calculated to reach and influence a somewhat larger class than that which would be attracted by the poems of Chaucer, and consequently they seem to have had a wider circulation.” This sentence does something more than convey a false impression. There is hardly a single statement of any sort in any part of it that is not hopelessly misleading. - The reason given for the opinion w^hich has just been quoted is full as extraordinary as the opinion itself. As the sole evidence of the asserted inferiority of Chau- ^ Hippisley’s Chapters on Early English Literature, p. 42. CHAUCER AND THE DRAMA 67 cer’s reputation to that of Gower, we are gravely told that the former is not mentioned by Shakspeare. On the other hand, the play of ‘ Pericles ’ is avowedly based upon the story of Apollonius of Tyre contained in the ‘ Confessio Amantis,’ and the author of that work is be- sides introduced into the play by name, and performs the office of the chorus in the ancient drama. “ There is no doubt,” continues Mr. Marsh, “ that the poem of Gower, however inferior to the work of his master, was much es- teemed in his lifetime, and still enjoyed a high reputa- tion in ages when Chaucer was almost forgotten. But posterity has reversed the judgment of its immediate predecessors ; and though Gower will long be read, he will never again dispute the palm of excellence with the true father of English literature.”^ Assertions of such a character, coming from such a source, have a tendency to discourage the expectation that we shall ever arrive at the truth about Chaucer on a single point. No more unauthorized and unwarranted inferences have ever been drawn from a single fact. It so happened, without doubt, that Chaucer’s name was not mentioned by Shakspeare. But no reader of ‘Troi- lus and Cressida’ can possibly suppose the great dram- atist to have been unfamiliar with the production of the early poet that bears the same title. The ‘ Mid- summer-Night’s Dream,’ moreover, though not based upon the Knight’s tale, contains passages that prove that portions of the latter work were before the mind of the writer while engaged in the composition of the ^ Origin and History of the English Language, by George P. Marsh, 3d edition (1872), p. 439. 68 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY former. There are other evidences of Shakspeare’s fa- miliarity with both Chaucer and Gower besides those that have been specified. In this respect he was no dif- ferent from his contemporaries. The Knight’s tale, in particular, naturally attracted the attention of the dram- atists of the Elizabethan age, who were always on the lookout for suitable material. Upon it was founded an early play called ‘ Palemon and Arcite ’ that has not come down. It was the work of Richard Edwards, and was produced in 1566 at Oxford University before Queen Elizabeth. A play with this title is also recorded by Henslowe under the year 1594 as having been acted four times. ^ From the same tale also was avowedly taken the drama called ‘The Two Noble Kinsmen,’ which, when first printed in 1634, had on its title-page as authors the names of Shakspeare and Fletcher. Whether either had anything to do with it is still a de- bated question ; but the tribute paid to Chaucer in the prologue furnishes important evidence as to the esti- mation in which the early poet continued to be held. Nominal supremacy must at least have been conceded to the man about whom lines like the following could be written : “ Chaucer, of all admired, the story gives ; There constant to eternity it lives. If we let fall the nobleness of this. And the first sound this child hear be a hiss, How will it shake the bones of that good man. And make him cry from under ground, ‘ O, fan From me the witless chaff of such a writer. That blasts my bays and my famed works makes lighter ^ Diary of Philip Henslowe, pp. 41, 43, and 44. CHAUCER AND THE DRAMA 69 Than Robin Hood !’ This is the fear we bring ; For to say truth, it were an endless thing, And too ambitious to aspire to him. Weak as we are, and almost breathless swim In this deep water, do but you hold out Your helping hands, and we shall tack about. And something do to save us ; you shall hear Scenes, though below his art, may yet appear Worth two hours’ travail. To his bones sweet sleep ! Content to you !” The truth is that Chaucer’s works had been from the very beginning one of the happy hunting-grounds to which the early playwrights resorted in their search for subjects and incidents. So much of the Elizabethan drama has irrecoverably perished that it would be im- possible now to guess even approximately the extent to which this practice prevailed. Yet even in the former half of the sixteenth century Hey wood had borrowed much from the poet in his interlude of ‘ The Pardoner and the Friar.’ In it he incorporated almost the whole of the prologue to the Pardoner’s tale. The story of Griselda, unfit as it is for dramatic representation, natur- ally could not escape. It had early become, and it long continued to be, exceedingly popular. It had been told again and again in song and ballad and prose narrative. It had given its name to a tune. The favor with which it was regarded, due perhaps to the unlikeness of the events it recorded to anything that ever happened in real life, led to its being turned into a play at the close of the sixteenth century. It was the joint work of Chet- tle. Decker, and Haughton. Their comedy, which went under the name of ‘ Patient Grissill,’ was published in 70 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY 1603. There was nothing in it, indeed, which proves absolutely the direct acquaintance of its authors with the story as found in the ‘ Canterbury Tales.’ Still, that was the remote original to which all these various pieces owed their existence. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to introduce these addi- tional details in regard to Chaucer’s popularity in the time of Shakspeare, and especially his comparative popu- larity. It is difficult to comprehend how assertions of the character quoted could ever have been made by any one who had made the most superficial study of the writ- ers of the past. For if there be one indisputable fact in literary history, it is that Gower did not have the fame of Chaucer in his own age, and that he has never had it in any age that followed. Upon this matter enough has been said in the preceding pages to show that the repu- tation for good sense and good taste of the contem- poraries of the two poets needs no defence upon this score. The same remark can be made of their immedi- ate successors. Later times continue to bear testimony similar to that furnished by the earlier. The mere fact that no edition of the ‘ Confessio Amantis’ appeared from 1554 until 1857 disposes of itself of the fancy that Gower’s popularity ever stood for a moment in rivalry with that of Chaucer. Caxton had, indeed, printed his poem. During the sixteenth century two other editions of it appeared. These were sufficient to supply the de- mand both for that time and for the three hundred years that followed. Nor are we confined to the evidence of bibliography to refute this absurd statement which de- rives importance only from the authority of the scholar GOWER’S RECOGNIZED INFERIORITY 7 1 by whom it was made. The thinness of Gov/er was as well recognized by the men of the sixteenth century as was the greatness of Chaucer. His tediousness was as apparent then as it is now. The capacity of being bored by it was as well developed in the Elizabethan age as it is in the Victorian, though it had not then found that particular word to express the feeling. The critical ref- erences made to Gower at that time constantly imply his inferiority to Chaucer. In some instances they ex- press it strongly. The general view is very effectively summed up by Puttenham in his ‘ Art of English Poesy.’ “ Gower,” he wrote, “ saving for his good and grave mo- ralities, had nothing in him highly to be commended, for his verse was homely and without good measure, his words strained much deal out of the French writers, his ryme wrested, and in his inventions small subtility : the applications of his moralities are the best in him, and yet those many times very grossly bestowed, neither doth the substance of his works answer the subtility of his titles.” The language of Drayton, more than a quar- ter of a century afterwards, is full as explicit and even more pointed. It appears in his account of the English poets that is contained in his ‘ Epistle to Henry Rey- nolds.’ After speaking in the highest terms of Chau- cer, he followed his commendation of that writer with this reference to his contemporary, which can certainly not be called complimentary, even if it escape the charge of being contemptuous : “ And honest Gower, who in respect of him Had only sipped at Aganippe’s brim, 72 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY And though in years this last was him before, Yet fell he far short of the other’s store.” I have taken great pains to bring out these points fully, for we are now approaching a period when the reputation of Chaucer is about to suffer a temporary eclipse. The knowledge of his versification had already disappeared largely ; it was soon to disappear entirely. His language was speedily to become almost an un- known tongue. A few adventurous spirits were to be the only ones that would explore the literature of the fourteenth century. By some they would be regarded as heroes for their hardihood, and by most as asses for their pains. That neglect was about to overtake him was foreseen even by the men who admired him. Dan- iel, in his ‘ Musophilus,’ anticipates it, but finds some consolation in reflecting upon the long period during which his fame had lasted. “Yet what a time,” he 'wrote, “ hath he wrested from Time, And won upon the mighty waste of days, Unto the immortal honor of our clime. That by his means came first adorned with bays ; Unto the sacred relics of whose ryme We yet are bound in zeal to offer praise !” This is in the nature of an elegy rather than of a eulo- gium. The very phrase “sacred relics” shows that to many, perhaps to most, the poet’s language was begin- ning to partake of something of the nature of a dead tongue. Difficult to comprehend, impossible to read with smoothness, it could not much longer hope to compete in popular estimation with the works of the CHAUCER IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 73 great writers who were to make the Elizabethan age famous for all succeeding time. The result, at any rate, cannot be disputed. It was j in the seventeenth century, especially in the middle and \ the latter half of it, that the reputation of Chaucer touched the lowest point to which it ever fell. To a certain extent this was due to causes other than literary and linguistic. The men of that time were engaged in a political struggle of peculiar bitterness. It was large- ly based upon religious differences, and it culminated in civil war. The conflict of interests and views that raged for years stirred the feelings of all to the pro- foundest depths. In the turbid upheaval of passions that resulted, there was little attention paid to litera- ture, pure and simple, of any kind. Poetry could not hold up its head in competition with controversial pam- phlets that dealt with the exciting questions of the hour. This will account for something of the comparative neglect which overtook Chaucer’s name and reputation. It will not account for it all. There is one fact that cannot be gainsaid or explained away. For eighty-five years no edition, complete or even partial, appeared of his poems in any form. From 1602 to 1687 there was not demand enough for his writings to cause a new im- pression of them to be printed. This is the longest period that has ever elapsed between the publication of his works from the time the art of printing was in- troduced into England. The eighteenth century was largely ignorant of him, and indifferent about him ; it was usually severer in its criticism ; but its record in the matter of the poet’s popularity, so far as it can be 74 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY tested by the demand for his poetry, far surpasses that of the seventeenth. I have quoted at the very beginning of this chapter the remark made in 1628 by Earle, in his ‘ Microcos- mography.’ Chaucer, according to him, continued to be called the greatest of English poets. But in the light of the facts just mentioned, it is clear that this had now become a purely conventional estimate. It was a traditional, not a real, acknowledgment of his superiority. It was still the correct remark to make, but it rarely represented genuine appreciation. It was the common voice, Earle said, that reckoned him at the head of English poets. It is probably true that this was the statement made commonly ; but common- ly made, it is to be feared, by those who read no poetry at all. Chaucer’s works were rapidly taking their place among those which men do not really enjoy, but feel themselves obliged, under the pressure of society, to say that they do. His writings were accordingly spoken of with the highest respect ; the reading of them was care- fully avoided. The secret of his versification was gone. His matter now gave significant evidence that it was on its way to become the quarry of the antiquary rather than the solace of the lover of literature. It is easy, of course, to get from this rapid summary an exaggerated estimate of the neglect into which the poet had fallen during the seventeenth century. It is his comparative popularity — comparative not merely with that of other writers of his grade, but with his own popularity at other times — that comes up here for consideration. His known admirers were not a few. ADMIRATION EXPRESSED BY MILTON 75 In many cases they are the greatest of the great. Every one is familiar with the allusion in ‘ II Penseroso/ where Milton joins him with the elder mythical bards of Greece, in the famous invocation to “ Call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold though the accentuation of the proper name may not be thought to indicate the later poet’s familiarity with the earlier poet’s versification. Still, there can be little doubt of Milton’s full acquaintance with his predeces- sor’s life, so far. as it was then known. As little doubt is there of his admiration for his writings, based upon the fullest acquaintance with them. His own journey to Italy reminded him that Chaucer had been there before him. Tityrus, he tells Manso, formerly came to these shores.' Yet, outside of these two places, the ref- erences in his works to the early poet and his writings are to be found only in the battailous pamphlets di-^ rected against the prelacy. As was inevitable, the fu- rious ‘ Plowman’s Tale,’ then universally accepted as genuine, was the particular piece to which he directed the attention of his readers. The fierceness of its invec- tive accorded with his own feelings ; the nature of its attack suited his purposes ; but there is no reason to assume on that account that it was poetry that specially pleased his literary taste. Nor is there any ground for the assertion constantly made, that the Squire’s tale was Milton’s favorite, because it is the one alluded to in ‘ II Penseroso.’ Its introduction there merely fell in with the object at which he was aiming. That was ^ “ Quin et in has quondam pervenit Tityrus oras.” — Afansus, line 34. 76 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY sufficient reason of itself for him to refer to it and to its characters. In Milton's case, moreover, we are no longer limited to inferences drawn from his formal productions for our belief in his familiarity with the writings of his prede- cessor. In 1876, a commonplace book of his — perhaps one of a number he kept — was published by the Cam- den Society from the original manuscript. The work is full of citations from about a hundred authors. Only four English poets are quoted, however. Of two of these, Sidney and Spenser, the prose works alone are laid under contribution. But from Chaucer’s writings there are several citations, and they touch upon various subjects. A passage is quoted approvingly from the tale of the Doctor of Physic, which treats of dangers to be avoided in the education of the young. It is a suggestive fact, also, that the democratic sentiments advanced in the ‘Romance of the Rose’ and in the Wife of Bath’s tale had attracted the attention of the ardent republican who had thrown himself with a fervor so intense into the political conflicts of the time. Some, too, will see an ominous allusion to his own life in his brief reference to “ the discommoditie of marriage,” as shown in the Merchant’s tale, and in the prologue to that of the Wife of Bath. Whatever may have been the feelings that these passages indicate, certain it is that they establish decisively the intimate acquaint- ance of the later poet with the writings of the earlier. About the time, also, that Milton was likening the first great writer of our literature to Orpheus and Mu- sseus in words which convey the impression that while KINASTON’S LATIN TRANSLATION 77 he was as reverend he was as little known as they, an- other peculiar tribute of admiration was laid at the feet of Chaucer. A most singular effort was made to intro- duce him to the knowledge of his countrymen by turn- ing one of his productions into Latin. This was the work of Sir Francis Kinaston, who was attached to the household of Charles I. Kinaston was a most fervent admirer of the poet. By one of the Oxford men who contributed copies of verses to usher in his translation, he was styled more Geoffreyan than Chaucer himself.^ He set out to render ‘Troilus and Cressida’ into Latin. In 1635 two books, the first instalment of his contem- plated work, made their appearance. The original was on one page, the translation was on the page opposite. Outside of the reprint of the poem, furnished no doubt for the sake of comparison, there was no concession made to the mere English reader. The preface ad- dressed to him was in Latin. So, also, were the two dedications of the first and second books, offered re- spectively to Patrick Junius, the king’s librarian, and to John Rous, the librarian of the Bodleian. But though there was a general flavor of antiquity about the work, it was not the flavor of classical antiquity. The peculiarity of this version is that it followed the original closely in its metrical form. It had the same number of lines in the stanza ; the same number of syllables in the line. This necessitated even a more marked deviation from the practice of the ancients. The translation was in rymed verse, and the rymes fol- ^ “ Kinastonum, Galfridiorem * * Chaucero.” — William Strode to the Translator. 78 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY lowed the order of the original. Kinaston tells us that it would have been far easier for him to have put it into classical hexameters and pentameters. He chose deliberately, however, the measure which has been de- scribed, though in many ways it was far more difficult, especially so on account of the monosyllabic character of the English tongue. It is plain that he anticipated a good deal of criticism for adopting this plan. In his preface and dedications he aimed to break the force of any hostile comments that might be made upon his verse by certain distinctly uncomplimentary references to the crabbed Aristarchs of the fastidious age, and by obvious allusions to the stolid and asinine ears of its sciolists. The work is a curious one, alike for the motives that dictated it, and the end it sought to accomplish. It is one of several examples that give us an insight into the feelings that men entertained at that time both about the past and the future of our speech. Of this there will be need to speak in detail when we come to the eighteenth century. Here it is merely necessary to call attention to the reasons that largely led to the turn- ing of the poet’s writings into Latin. Kinaston tells us that he saw Chaucer coming daily to be held in cheaper estimation while clothed in the despised garments of the ancient English tongue. More than that, he saw him wasting away and, indeed, almost dead. From that deplorable condition he determined to rescue his repu- tation, so far as it lay in his power ; to prop it up and secure it by the everlasting pillars of the Roman speech. Thereby his fame would be made stable and immovable KINASTON’S LATIN TRANSLATION 79 for all ages. It was with this object in view that he had turned ‘Troilus and Cressida’ into Latin verse. If we could believe the writers of the introductory pieces who celebrated his undertaking in complimentary lines, the end he aimed at had been accomplished. The name of Chaucer would no longer be limited by the narrow bounds of language and country. He would henceforth be read wherever men read poetry at all. What was lost to England, the world would find. The translation would become the original. Chaucer’s fame might die in the changing tongue in which he wrote, but what he wrote would live forever in the Latin of Kinaston. A certain kind of interest and value attaches to the commendatory poems that were prefixed to this version. They were fifteen in number. Nine of the contributors expressed their feelings in Latin, five in English, and one in both tongues. None of these writers can now be said to be known at all to fame, with the exception of William Cartwright. It is not, to be sure, in praises that appear in regulation verses of this sort, which con- vention would demand if friendship did not voluntarily pay, that we expect to find either literature of a very high grade or criticism of a very discriminating kind. We can indeed be certain that in some of these trib- utes to the memory of the dead author which accom- panied the verses of the living one, the praise as well as the poetry was of a purely perfunctory character. But however valueless they may be in the matter of inspira- tion, they present a definite amount of evidence as to the sentiment about Chaucer then prevalent in the edu- cated class. This evidence must, indeed, be taken with 8o CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY due grains of allowance ; for the main object of these commendatory pieces was to enforce the desirability and even the necessity of the Latin translation that had been undertaken. Yet in productions written to order, least of all would any one have outraged the general senti- ment of his time by expressing views which it was not decorous to hold. An examination of these poems will therefore furnish us with a certain amount of informa- tion which may be deemed fairly trustworthy. It will show that even then the same variation of view existed which, as we shall find, Dryden subsequently pointed out with his usual clearness and sharpness. Two opin- ions were held in regard to Chaucer. By one class he was looked upon as the rude writer of a rude age. His language was obsolete, his diction was uncouth, his ver- sification was rugged. By the other, he Avas regarded as a clear, graceful, and polished poet. Of these two classes more will be said later; all that is here essential is to indicate their existence then. From the tone of these introductory pieces, it is a natural inference that the sup- porters of the former view were largely in the majority. This is doubtless not conclusive testimony. Still, if they were not in the majority, no real reason could be given for undertaking the work which they had been called upon to commend. There was, however, a general agree- ment as to the existence of one unfortunate condition of things. The poetry of Chaucer lay almost neglected. Though he was not dead, he was out of fashion. Not every one was capable of reading his works ; few pre- sumed to understand them. For this there was but one remedy : that was to turn his writings into Latin. KINASTON’S LATIN TRANSLATION 8 Through this medium they would come to be known and read of all men. Kinaston finished the translation of the three remain- ing books of ‘ Troilus and Cressida,’ as also of Henry- son’s ‘ Testament of Cressida.’ The completed version was prepared for publication, and received the impri- matur of the licenser; but for some reason it was never printed. He had written, moreover, a series of annota- tions upon the work both in English and in Latin. The manuscripts containing the two texts and commentaries were, and probably still are, in existence. They were for a time in the hands of Dr. Henry Aldrich, who, in 1689, became dean of Christ Church. From them Urry procured some notes to be transcribed for his edition. They then passed for a long while from public notice. In March, 1793, they were sold with the library of the Rev. J. H. Hindley, and purchased by Francis Godol- phin Waldron, a player and play-writer connected with Drury Lane Theatre. In 1796 he printed a small pam- phlet containing the first twelve stanzas of ‘Troilus and Cressida,’ with Kinaston ’s notes upon them and with some additional notes of his own. In the advertise- ment, he gave notice that the original poem with the English commentary would be first brought out; and if this should receive the patronage of the learned, it would be followed by the Latin version and its cor- responding Latin commentary. But nothing further ever appeared. It is perhaps unfortunate that Kinas- ton’s English commentary was never published. His few notes that were printed were valuable and accu- rate ; and it is not absolutely impossible that he rhay IIL— 6 82 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY have had access to sources of information that have now disappeared. To us of the present day it seems a deliciously absurd plan to make the works of Chaucer known to English- men by translating them into Latin. That it was ab- surd must be conceded. But it was far from being so absurd as it now seems. Especially was it far from seeming absurd to the men of that time. They had no conception whatever of the forces that give stability to language, or that regulate its development. The Eng- lish tongue was in their eyes in a state of perpetual flux, and the writings of their own day would, in process of time, become unintelligible to the generations that suc- ceeded. The only hope for him who sought for perma- nence of fame was to bring out his works in a language like the Latin, which underwent no change and had be- fore it the assurance of perpetual existence. This feel- ing was doubtless more prevalent among scholars than among men of letters ; but it was to be found, more or less, in both classes. It is well known that Bacon devoted no small part of his later life to translating, or rather to having translated, into Latin his English works. His avowed reason was that by this means only could he hope to have his productions handed down to later times. “ It is true,” he writes about 1623, “ my labors are now most set to have those works which I had for- merly published, as that of Advancement of Learning, that of Henry VIE, that of the Essays being retractate and made more perfect, well translated into Latin by the help of some good pens which forsake me not. For these modern languages will at one time or other play LATIN TRANSLATIONS 83 the bankrupt with books ; and since I have lost much time with this age, I would be glad, as God shall give me leave, to recover it with posterity.’' This is the view taken by the wisest man of his time ; nor is the passage quoted the solitary instance in which it is expressed. In the dedication to the Duke of Buckingham of the edi- tion of his ‘ Essays,’ printed in 1625, he speaks with justi- fiable pride of the success with which the work had met, and with curious incapacity to comprehend the future of the tongue in which it was written. “ I do conceive,” he says of these productions, “ that the Latin volume of them (being in the universal language) may last as long as books last.” Singular as such remarks may seem, coming from a man of Bacon’s perspicacity, they are neither unexam- pled nor were they thought to be erroneous. Waller, in his famous lines on English verse, expressed the feeling that widely, and perhaps generally, prevailed. It was hopeless for him who wrote in a daily changing tongue to expect genuine immortality. Envy attacks him while he is living, and the language fails him when he is dead. Palaces built with ill-chosen stone soon crumble to de- cay. Herein lay the superiority of the classic tongues as a means for reaching the generations to come. Waller assures us that “ Poets that lasting marble seek Must carve in Latin or in Greek ; We write in sand, our language grows, And like the tide, our work o’erflows.” ^ * These lines were first included were probably written considerably in the third edition of Waller’s earlier. Poe 7 ns, published in 1668, but they 84 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY It is characteristic of Waller that he finds consolation for this unfortunate condition of things in the reflection that it still remains possible for the poet to gain by his verse the favor of the fair. The applause of after-ages may not be his. For that, however, ample amends is made by the praise of living beauty. It is enough for him if his lines have the brief term of existence that be- longs to its fading charms. If by what he has written he has succeeded in securing the approbation of the beautiful, he has written to sufficient purpose. This, he tells us, is the reward that Chaucer received. The refer- ence to him is noteworthy, because it exhibits the liter- ary opinion of the seventeenth century upon the original harmony of his versification and the fate that had over- taken it. In this piece the early poet makes his first appearance as the chosen example of the havoc which time works with speech — a part he was afterwards des- tined to play constantly and conspicuously. According to Waller, I “ Chaucer his sense can only boast, The glory of his numbers lost ; Years have defaced his matchless strain, And yet he did not live in vain.” With views of this kind widely prevalent, there need be little wonder that Latin was looked upon by many as the only secure medium through which they could hope to speak to posterity. Time naturally has demonstrated in every experiment that has been tried the falsity of this belief. Kinaston’s version, it is hardly necessary to say, did not realize the anticipations with which it was greeted. It neither ex- CHAUCER AFTER THE RESTORATION 85 tended the fame of Chaucer to foreign lands, nor did it build it up at home. The expectation, indeed, was as vain as the method was ridiculous. Even had both been otherwise, the time was unpropitious. The days that followed were not the days for increasing reputations that were merely literary. It is not during the stormy scenes of the civil war, or the political agitations that preceded the iron rule of Cromwell, that we are likely to find much mention made of a poet so remote in point of time and speech. Record of him there doubtless is, but it lurks in unsuspected places, in unread volumes, and will be brought to light only by chance or the combined labor of scholars. It is not till we enter upon the period of the Restoration that the name of the poet begins to occur outside of that vague and indefinite way in which authors are talked of whom it is reputable to mention, but not common to read. One of the earliest of these notices has fallen under the eyes of many ; for it is to be found in the perpetually delightful pages of the only man who ever had the courage to keep an honest diary. It was on the 14th of June, 1663, that Pepys was at the residence of Sir William Penn, where a number of per- sons had assembled. Among the rest,” he writes, “ Sir John Mennis brought many fine expressions of Chaucer, which he doats on mightily ; and without doubt he is a fine poet.” Mennis was a controller of the navy. As a man of business he found little favor in the eyes of the Clerk of the Acts, who in one place speaks of him as having '‘gone to the fleet, like a floating fool, to do no good, but proclaim himself an ass.” Still, the possession of 86 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY certain good qualities was accorded him by his critic. His conversation during that evening clearly made an impression upon the mind of Pepys. On the loth of December of the same year the latter’s diary records him as having visited his bookseller in St. Paul’s Church- yard, and there turning over some twenty volumes to de- termine what ones of them he should purchase. ‘ Chau- cer’ was among the number, but he did not buy it upon that occasion. The temptation, however, must have been before his mind constantly. As in the case of every genuine book-hunter, it was merely a question of time when he should yield. Yield he did, though he mentions neither the date nor the circumstances. Still, on the 8th of July, 1664, we find him going to the bind- er’s and directing ‘‘ the doing of my Chaucer, though they were not full neat enough for me, but pretty well it is ; and thence to the clasp-maker’s to have it clasped and bossed.” The diarist was not content with merely « having it bound and clasped and bossed. He read it. Shortly after we find him with the noted arithmetician Cocker, who was engraving for him the tables upon his new sliding rules, and who tells him that he can cut best small things by artificial light. This is contrary, Pepys gravely adds, to Chaucer’s words to the sun^ that he should lend his light to them “that small seals grave.” We gain also from the diary the impression that the early author was well known to the arithmetician. Pepys found “ the fellow, by his discourse, very ingenu- ous ; and among other things, a great admirer and well read in the English poets, and undertakes to judge of ^ Troihis and Cressida, iii., 1462. CHAUCER AFTER TFIE RESTORATION 87 them all, and that not impertinently.” ^ It is also to be remarked that it was at the instance of Pepys that Dry- den produced his imitation of the character of the Par- son in the general Prologue to the ‘Canterbury Tales.’ It was doubtless as much to satisfy his friend as himself that he turned the parish priest of the fourteenth century into a non-juring divine of the seventeenth. For the ap- parent anachronism of imputing to the subjects of Henry IV. the acts and feelings of the subjects of William and Mary he has been taken severely to task by many critics who have not troubled themselves to become familiar with the precise nature and avowed object of the piece. Pepys assuredly did not grieve over the alteration. He told Dryden that he had truly obliged him, and that, in saying so, he was more in earnest than could be readily thought ; “ as verily hoping,” he added, “ from this your copy of one good parson to fancy some amends made me for the hourly offence I bear with from the sight of so many lewd originals.”^ I have gone somewhat fully into these details because they set before our eyes a body of men of whose existence we should not have a conception were we to confine our- selves to the popular literature of the day. Not that by its authors the early poet is wholly unmentioned or unre- garded. Sir John Mennis, just spoken of, is an illustra- tion to the contrary. He is, indeed, a marked instance of the enthusiastic feeling entertained for Chaucer in quarters where it would be little expected. He was, to be sure, graduated at Oxford, and Anthony Wood tells us that, in his earlier years at least, he was “ more ad- ^ Diary ^ Aug. ii, 1664. ^ Malone’s Dryden, vol. ii., p. 86. 88 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY dieted to the superficial parts of learning, poetry and oratory, wherein he excelled, than logic and philosophy.” Still, his life, like that of most men of any prominence during that period, had been principally spent in active pursuits. He had been in the navy, and had reached the rank of rear admiral. At the time of which we are speak- ing he was holding an important official position. But he made a good deal of pretension to literature. In truth, he was so much a man of letters that Sir William Coventry swore to Pepys that his inefficiency was so conspicuous that he would henceforth be against a wit being employed in business. He has left us a work upon which this reputation was largely founded. In 1656 he had published, in conjunction with the Rev. Dr. James Smith, a collection of poems entitled the ‘ Muses’ Recreation,’ containing several pieces of poetic wit. It has had the distinction to be twice reprinted in modern times, though the general criticism can be fairly miade of these pieces of poetic wit, as they were called, that in them the wit is of a very thin quality and the poetry of a far thinner. There is much in the work that is coarse, though its coarseness is rather of the kind that upsets the stomach than that which inflames the passions. In- deed, from the specimens of his own composition that Mennis has left behind, the critic of these days would be amply justified in stating Sir William Coventry’s opinion in a reversed form, and declaring that he would be forever against a man of business attempting to set up for a wit. Mennis may be regarded, however, as belonging to the period before the civil war in his tastes and sympathies, and as continuing to retain the feelings and views that BRAITHWAITE’S COMMENT 89 were prevalent in his youth. But we have a still more interesting example at that time of what had once been the accepted doctrine in Richard Braithwaite, who in a genuine sense had come down from the Elizabethans. In 1665 he brought out a little volume upon Chaucer. No name appears upon the title-page, but the author’s initials occur in the dedication. The work purports to be ‘'A Comment upon the Two Tales of our ancient, re- nowned, and ever-living poet. Sir J effray Chaucer, Knight, who for his rich fancy, pregnant invention, and present composure deserved the countenance of a prince and his laureat honor.” The two tales are those of the Miller and the Wife of Bath. As, however, the prologue in each case was included, the number of lines subjected to examination was consequently doubled. This work, the author tells us, had been “ begun and finished in his blooming years, when the heat of conceit more than the depth of intellect dictated to his pen.” Of course he published it, as every one in those days professed to publish, only at the instance of friends, in this case at the instance of “ sundry persons of quality” in particular. They urged him not to stop with the part he had com- pleted. Their perusal of these comments, he tells us, “begot that influence over the clear and weighty judg- ments of the strictest and rigidest censors, as their high approvement of them induced their importunity to the author to go on with the rest, as he had successfully done with these two first ; ingenuously protesting that they had not read any subject discoursing by way of il- lustration and running descant on such light but harm- less fancies more handsomely couched nor modestly go CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY shadowed.” But Braithwaite was now nearing his eigh- tieth year. He had no notion of spending the' few days of his life that remained on any toys of this sort. Chau- cer suffered no loss by his refusal. For anything so bar- ren as his remarks upon these poems we should have to go to a great deal of the commentary that has been written on Shakspeare. He imparts no information which the reader could not and would not have discov- ered for himself. He not infrequently misunderstands the meaning of what he sets out to expound. His com- ments, moreover, are written in that wearisome artificial style of which some of the minor Elizabethans possessed the secret and fortunately failed to hand down the knowl- edge. There is a perpetual effort to say pointless things in a pointed way. The same thought is repeated again and again, with every possible variation of phrase. The petty antithesis of words, to which there is little cor- responding antithesis of ideas, occurs constantly. The effect upon the mind, to use Braithwaite’s own affected style, is naturally to arouse the feeling that the proffer of the writer is promising, but his performance mean ; that when he speaketh least, he prevaileth most ; that where he striveth hardest to make most mirth, his read- er hath greatest cause to mourn ; that while the desire to get through with his remarks continually groweth stronger, the ability to keep on with the perusal of them steadily becometh weaker; that, in fine, by how much the more the man who taketh up the work readeth it, by so much the more he is bored. Braithwaite, indeed, is interesting to us only as a sur- vival ; but in that light he is very interesting. He holds PHILLIPS’S ACCOUNT OF CHAUCER 91 firmly to the traditions of the Elizabethan period. For him Chaucer still remains the incomparable poet, the English Homer, the famous, the ever-living. Could his life be renewed his ‘‘youthful genius could not bestow his endeavor on any author with more pleasure nor com- placency to fancy than the illustrations of Chaucer.” It is clear from examples like these that there were still men who reckoned the earliest of English poets as the greatest. It is equally clear that most of them were either old themselves or were more or less antiquarian in their tastes. That while this estimate had been once the prevalent feeling, it was so no longer, is evident from the work entitled ‘ Theatrum Poetarum Anglicanorum ’ which Edward Phillips, the nephew of Milton, brought out in 1675. In this volume Chaucer is represented as having been generally reputed the prince and Coryphaeus of English poets “ till this age.” The phrase in quota- tion marks is significant. Warton, it is to be added, professed to see in this work of Phillips many traces of Milton's hand. Since that writer's day the assertion has been repeated so often that it has come to be looked upon as an unquestionable fact. It is more than doubt- ful. The account, for instance, of Chaucer, brief as it is, is full of the grossest blunders. Had it been known to Milton, it could hardly have failed to be corrected out of existence. Still, there is no reason for denying that, in the critical estimates he gave, Phillips represented * fairly enough the prevalent opinion of his time. His words imply that Chaucer had been superseded by later poets in the eyes of most. To corroborate that assertion there is plenty of other evidence. 92 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY The fact, however, that there had finally begun to be a demand for his writings which existing copies could not satisfy is made certain by the reprint in 1687 of Speght’s edition of 1602. No publisher’s name appears on the title-page ; but the page containing an “ adver- tisement to the reader” is signed J. H., who states that for some years past he has been greatly solicited by many learned and worthy gentlemen to reprint Chau- cer’s works, and that he has at length performed the ob- ligation laid upon him long before. Even the mere re- publication of so extensive a work is conclusive proof of a genuine demand ; for it is a large and well-printed folio. The expense must have been increased also by the em- ployment of black-letter, which had somehow come to be considered as absolutely essential to the production of Chaucer’s poetry. Kinaston’s two books of ‘Troilus and Cressida’ had been so printed; and even the lines that had been quoted in Braithwaite’s volume had been carefully put into that kind of type. The details which have been given, but especially the publication of this folio of 1687, show the existence of a public to which the poet already appealed, and was beginning to appeal still more. They are essentially different in thejr nature from the incidental references to him, that are not infrequent. These latter are no proof whatever of acquaintance with his writings. They convey to us no assurance of anything beyond the mere fact that a poet bearing his name was known to have once existed. Yalden, to take one instance out of many, in his epistolary ode to Congreve, written in 1693, spoke of the “ tuneful Chaucer.” Mention of this sort SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY REFERENCES 93 is purely perfunctory. It implies no knowledge ; and if it did, it would carry no weight with the men of a generation to whom Yalden himself is tuneful no more. These references are apt to occur in pieces that set out to give a glance at the development of English poetry. In them, there are generally two characteristics worth noting. They show that much of Chaucer’s work re- mained unknown even to those who to some extent read him. As a result of this ignorance, the point of view from which he was regarded had undergone a marked change of position. The first thing that strikes the reader of the poems of this period in which the early poet is introduced is the fact that it is to his comic vein that the attention is mainly and, indeed, almost exclusively directed. Of the mingled tender- ness and strength which is found in his writings there is apparently no knowledge. Of the exquisite felicity that characterizes his expression constantly, of the dig- nity and grandeur that inspire it occasionally, the men of that day seem not to have had even a dream. It is his humor, his jollity, that is the one thing for which, in their eyes, he is worthy of regard. As it is put by the younger Evelyn in his poem on the ‘ Immortality of Poesie,’ in which he records the principal English authors, “ Old Chaucer shall for his facetious style Be read and praised by warlike Britons while The sea enriches and defends their isle.” ^ The second conclusion that can be drawn from- these ^ On page 90 of Poems by Several Collected by N. Tate, London, Hands and on Several Occasions. 1685. 94 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY references is, that to most men the interest in the poet had become an historic interest, and not a personal one. This, of course, was not true of all. There were those whose tributes to Chaucer’s greatness were based upon knowledge of what he had written, as well as upon the fact that he had written at an early period. In a poem, for instance, of Sir Aston Cokayne, printed in 1658, one of the characters in it is advised to go to London, where “ thou upon the sepulchre mayst look Of Chaucer, our true Ennius, whose old book Hath taught our nation so to poetize That English rhythms now may equalize ; That we no more need envy at the strain Of Tiber, Tagus, or our neighbor Seine.” ^ Rarely, however, was even so much appreciation as this exhibited. The view that was generally taken was expressed by Chetwood in the lines commending Ros- common’s ‘ Essay on Translated Verse.’ In them Chau- cer was celebrated as the one who “founded the Muses’ empire on our soil.” This is the light in which he al- most invariably appeared to those who took any survey of English poetry as a whole. He was to none of them a living, breathing force, as he had been to Spenser in the century previous. The change of view is denoted by a change of epithet. He is no longer the English Homer; he is the English Ennius. He is no longer designated as learned ; he is old. One illustration of the latter has just been given in the quotation taken from Evelyn. There is a more famous one in the lines ^ ‘A Remedy for Love,’ in A Aston Cokayne (London, 1658), Chain of Goldeji Poems, by Sir p. 8. ADDISON ON CHAUCER 95 in which Sir John Denham commemorated the death of Cowley in 1667, and his canonization among Eng- lish poets. It is in this way his eulogy opened : “ Old Chaucer, like the morning star, To us discovers day from far; His light those mists and clouds dissolved Which our dark nation long involved ; But he descending to the shades. Darkness again the age invades.” As Chaucer was recognized as the founder of the line of English poets, he was always treated with re- spectful consideration by those who mentioned him, however little familiarity they might have with what he had written. Deference was felt to be due to his antiquity if not to his verse. To this regular approval there is but one exception. It is, however, a notable one. It is to be found in that extraordinary account of the greatest English poets which forms the subject of the rymed epistle which Addison addressed to Sachev- erell. It was in this way that he spoke of Chaucer : “ Long had our dull forefathers slept supine. Nor felt the raptures of the tuneful Nine ; Till Chaucer first, a merry bard, arose. And many a story told in ryme and prose. But age has rusted what the poet writ. Worn out his language and obscured his wit : In vain he jests in his unpolished strain. And tries to make his readers laugh in vain.” After this it need not surprise us to find numerous comments of an equally sage character. Spenser, we are told, ‘‘ in ancient tales amused a barbarous age,” 96 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY but he can no longer charm “the understanding age” that has succeeded. Sprat, and Roscommon, and Mon- tague, and several other poetasters whom the world has been very well content to forget, are to be found in this list of the greatest English poets. They are mentioned in terms that would not have been out of place in speak- ing of men of the highest genius. This epistle was first published in 1694, in the fourth of the series of poetical miscellanies that came out un- der the supervision of Dryden. It is itself dated the 3d of April. When he wrote it, Addison was conse- quently a little under twenty-two years of age. This fact may be pleade,d in extenuation of this gratuitous exhibition of lack of knowledge and of taste. Rut while it may extenuate, it cannot justify it. Even at twenty-two a man is under no absolute compulsion to talk of matters of which he knows little or nothing. If we can trust Spence, Pope used to speak of this poem as a poor thing. He would have been justified in using an adjective much stronger. According to the same authority, he is represented as saying that Addison had told him that he had never read Spenser till fifteen years after he had produced this choice epistle. It is hardly safe to rely upon this report. The lines about Spenser imply a certain degree of familiarity with his writings which could not well have been gained without actual perusal. The assertion would not, however, have been a subject of doubt had it been made of the earlier poet. Nor is there any reason to believe that his stock of knowledge about the latter was ever increased. I can- not find that in all of Addison’s writings, touching as ADDISON ON CHAUCER 97 they constantly do upon matters connected with litera- ture, that he ever referred to more than one produc- tion of Chaucer’s ; and that was to one which Chaucer did not writed ^ The spurious ‘ Remedy of Love,’ wishing to praise Chaucer’s num- found in the earlier editions, is the hers, compares them with Dryden’s piece referred to ; and the allusion own.” It is certainly a dangerous to it occurs in the Spectator^ No, 73. thing to assert a negative ; but I Mr. Matthgw Arnold, indeed, says venture to affirm that Addison no- in his Introduction to Ward’s Eng- where makes any comparison of the lish Poets (p. xxxvi.) that “ Addison, sort. III.— 7 98 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY II. HE lines quoted, a few pages previous, from Sir John Denham may be taken as representing the most favorable opinion that was usually held of Chaucer in the latter half of the seventeenth century. He is in them designated simply as the morning star of our liter- ature. This is his distinction, and this alone. His work is a promise of the coming day rather than a realization of it. It is the unhappy fate, however, of morning stars, whether of the literary or of the natural heavens, to fall under the observation of very few eyes. The weight of evidence that at that time Chaucer was to most men of letters little more than a name is not impaired by the fact that in the midst of general ignorance or indiffer- ence individuals were still to be found who continued to look upon him as retaining the supremacy which for two centuries after his death had been unhesitatingly accord- ed him by the consent of all. Anthony Wood, for in- stance, in his great work, published 1691-2, still continues to call him the prince of English poets.^ But Wood was an antiquary. It was doubtless felt by his contempora- ries that it was his business as an antiquary to recollect and praise what the rest of the world was doing all in its power to forget. Still, the class to which this scholar Athencs Oxonienses, under ‘ Thynne. ’ REVIVING INTEREST IN CHAUCER 99 belonged is not a class to be despised in the matter of influence ; and it was far from being an inconspicuous part that it played in the revival that was now about to begin taking place in the poet's fame* For the reputation of Chaucer was speedily to enter upon a new phase. A great renovation was to be ac- complished for it ; and the chief impulse towards this result came from the hands of a poet who stood in about the same relation to the literature of the latter half of the seventeenth century that the elder poet did to the latter half of the fourteenth. This man was Dryden. At the, time he took up the task of reviving Chaucer he was, apparently, not in a position to exert much influ- ence in the rehabilitation of any one’s reputation. He had been deposed from the laureateship. The offlce he had held had, for the first time, been made contemptible by being conferred upon a writer distinguished by the soundness of his politics rather than by the excellence of his verse, and whose memory now survives almost en- tirely in the satire of the man he succeeded. But this was the least of Dryden’s troubles. He was struggling with want, or what seemed to him want. He was op- pressed with the double burden of illness and old age. A storm of calumny and invective was raging around him, partly on account of the immorality of his writ- ings, but largely because of the change in his religion. The insults he had heaped upon his opponents when they were out of power were now returned in kind ; and if their attacks did not equal his in vigor, they did in bitterness. An adherent of a beaten party, a communi- cant of a hated faith, himself deprived of place and pen- 100 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY sion, and no longer in favor with the dispensers of favor, he seemed little likely to do for others what he was un- able to do for himself. In spite of this state of things, his literary dictatorship not only remained unshaken ;,iit rwas even more firmly established than ever. Enemies and friends alike recognized his supremacy. Pope, not yet twelve years of age, contrived to see him, and to cel- ebrate his greatness early came Addison, the rising liter- f xy hope of the Whigs. There was a solid justi^fication or this continued influence of the veteran rulerA Dry- tien’s mental powers never showed the slightest Isign of decay. On the contrary, his taste and judgment kept steadily improving with the advance of years. him- self, indeed, speaks of one of his later productions as the vretched remainder of a sickly age, worn out with study ind oppressed by fortune. Never was self-depreciation Tiore unjustifiable. The work of his last twenty years ^own to the very close stands on a scale far higherV than :hat accomplished at any time in the flush of youtH\or die vigor of early middle life. There was likeness enough in the fortunes and opin- ons of the two writers to have of itself attracted the attention of the later poet to the earlier. These similari- ties are naturally far more striking to the observer of our lay. Their lives covered the corresponding periods of dieir respective centuries. They certainly died, and pos- sibly may have been born, in its corresponding years. They were both recognized by the common voice of con- temporaries as having attained to the literary supremacy af their times. They were both connected with the court in various relations. They were both the favorites of DRYDEN ON CHAUCER lOI men who occupied high positions in the state, up to the very highest. They both held places in the customs’ service. They both may have led free lives ; they both certainly wrote free verses. They both seem in their later years to have experienced privation and sorrow, and both surely felt the pressure of poverty. Yet in neither did length of days or increase of infirmity bring any diminution of intellectual vigor ; and the best work of both belongs to the latter portion of their lives. We know too little of the ancient poet to speak with confi- dence of closer analogies that may exist. This is especially true in the matter of their opinions. Yet even here there is a marked similarity between them in one respect. The writings of both are full of attacks upon the clergy; and if we could fully believe Chaucer’s recantation to be gen- uine, we might be justified in saying that both sought relief from perplexities that wearied and doubts that disturbed without satisfying the heart in an unquestion- ing faith to the luxurious repose of which the minds of many are often tempted to fly. Dryden, upon taking up the study of the earlier Eng- lish authors, came to have a great admiration for Chau- cer. At what period he first made acquaintance with his writings, we do not know positively. Still, in spite of Malone’s doubt, ^ there is every reason to suppose that it was not a long while after his own accession to the laureateship in 1670. It is not necessary, indeed, to assume that he then became familiar with many, or that he ever became familiar with all, of the writings of the elder poet. Certain it is, however, that before the ^ Malone’s Dryden^ vol. i., p, 318. 102 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY death of Charles he took occasion to pay a tribute of respect to Chaucer’s power as a satirist. About 1680, Sir William Soames, of Suffolk, made a translation of Boileau’s Art Poetiqiie^ which he submitted to Dry- den for revision. The latter made many alterations in the version. In particular, he substituted in it English authors for the French ones of the original. In the course of the poem, Lucilius, Horace, Persius, and Juve- nal were specified as the representatives of the best man- ner shown in ancient satire ; and the one writer in our tongue who exhibited that manner best was thus de- scribed : “ Chaucer alone, fixed on this solid base, In his old style conserves a modern grace : Too happy if the freedom of his rhymes Offended not the method of our times.” This translation of Soames was published in 1683. It makes perfectly clear that before that period the atten- tion of Dryden had been turned to the man whom, fol- lowing a mistaken tradition, he called his predecessor in the laurel. About this time, also, it must have been that he conceived the idea of making the poet he admired known in a modern version to a generation which was ignorant of him, and, because it was ignorant, was dis- posed to deny him any great merit. From this project, however, he was dissuaded by one of his patrons, the Earl of Feicester, the elder brother of Algernon Sidney. That nobleman cherished a strong regard for Chaucer. He naturally believed that the beauty of his verse would be lost in any modernization. Out of deference to the opinion of one to whom he was under obligations. Dry- DRYDEN ON CHAUCER 103 den did not at that time carry out his plan. Buhin 1698 the earl died, and the poet thereafter felt himself at lib- erty to turn his thoughts to a scheme which he had never willingly abandoned. In the very last years of his life he took up the task with ardor. The result appeared in his volume of ‘ Fables, Ancient and Modern,’ which was published in March, 1700, a few weeks before his death. This work contained, with much other matter, modern- ized versions of several of Chaucer’s poems. To it was added, besides, a dissertation on his originals in the shape of a long preface. Dryden has been charged by Dr. John- son with having written most of his critical essays only to recommend the work upon which he then happened to be employed.^ There is every evidence, however, for believ- ing that in this particular one, at any rate, he was giving utterance to sentiments not only really felt, but long matured. But whether the motive that dictated it was questionable or not, there can be no question as to the influence it exerted. Dryden’s prose was always enter- taining, and his criticism always commanded respect, even where it did not assent. The attractiveness of this essay, both in matter and manner, made it not merely the most interesting discussion of Chaucer’s literary character and genius which up to the time had ap- peared, but has kept it from being surpassed in some re- spects by anything that has since been produced. The dissertation presents, moreover, something besides the critical estimate of the writer ; it indirectly exhibits the critical estimate of the age. It furnishes direct evidence of the highest kind as to the opinions then generally * Rambler, No. 93. 104 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY held in regard to the first great author of our literature. It will be found that it bears out entirely the inferences that have already been drawn from the words of the men who contributed their welcome to Kinaston’s ver- sion of ‘Troilus and Cressida.’ This it is now time to state fully. According to the testimony of this preface, there were then existing two classes entertaining views on the subject widely apart. By one of these the early poet was looked upon as a dry, old-fashioned wit not worth reviving. The reputation of Chaucer was a long way from having reached the stage where men who knew nothing about him felt obliged to pay respect to the opinions of those who knew. Dry- den, indeed, tells us that he found some people offended because he had turned the tales he did into modern Eng- lish. He mentioned no living persons as representatives of the feelings of this class, though to us Addison would be a particularly conspicuous one. From among the dead, however, he specified Cawley. This he did upon information given him by the Earl of Leicester. That poet had been induced by this nobleman to read Chau- cer, but did not relish him, or, as Dryden puts it, had “ no taste of him.” Cowley is an author too little ap- preciated in the present age. Even at the very time of which we are speaking he had already begun to sink largely in reputation, though hardly more than thirty years had passed since his death. The process con- tinued to go on rapidly in the century that followed, and has never been really arrested. The failure of the later author to appreciate the earlier was almost inevitable. He was of a school exactly opposite to that of which DRYDEN ON CHAUCER 105 Chaucer is a most distinguished representative. It was hardly to be expected that one of the most artificial writers of our tongue should enjoy one of the most nat- ural. For Cowley, though possessing a genuine vein of poetry, was a man of conceits. He was addicted es- pecially to grotesque comparisons and far-fetched allu- sions, dragged in not to illustrate his subject, but to ex- hibit his knowledge and wit. When to the difference of character was added the difficulty of language, far greater then than now, it is not surprising that Cowley should have felt for Chaucer a distaste which, with a cer- tain degree of injustice, most men at the present time feel for Cowley himself. On the other hand, the Earl of Leicester represented, as has been said before, a class so ardently attached to the early poet that the men who belonged to it viewed with repugnance any attempt to put his writings in a modern dress. They thought a certain veneration was due to his language, and that it was little less than profanation to alter it in the slightest degree. Moreover, they believed that something of his good sense would necessarily disap- pear in the transfusion to a later form, and that much of the beauty of his thoughts would be lost in the new hab- its in which they were clothed. This was, in truth, a feel- ing that had previously influenced Kinaston. He could, he tells us, have changed the obsolete phrases and ex- pressions of his original into the English of his own age, and fitted it for the comprehension of readers, at far less expense of time and trouble than was required to turn it into Latin ryme. But in his eyes it would have been, as he expressed it, an inexpiable sin against the manes I 06 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY of Chaucer to have altered the least word in writings which were worthy to remain sacred and untouched forever. By men of this class there is no doubt that Dryden’s proceedings were regarded with undisguised dislike. It was in 1706, only a few years after his mod- ernizations had come out, that a poem was published entitled ‘Woodstock Park.’ It has a special interest on account of the vigor with which it gives expression to this feeling of displeasure. Its author was William Har- rison, a fellow of New College, Oxford, and an intimate friend of Swift. In this production he bestowed the highest praise upon Chaucer’s genius. He spoke in par- ticular of his excellence in description, where poetry had invaded the art of the painter. Then he proceeded to set forth his opinion of the modern versions in these words : “ This Dryden saw, and with his wonted fate (Rich in himself) endeavored to translate: Took wondrous pains to do the author wrong, And set to modern tune his ancient song. Cadence and sound which we so prize and use 111 suit the majesty of Chaucer’s muse : His language only can his thoughts express; Old honest Clytus scorns a Persian dress.” From the point of view of our own time, especially from that of the last twenty-five years, the class repre- sented by Kinaston, Leicester, and Harrison would be regarded as entirely in the right. Yet as respects the age in which he himself flourished, it is a question if Dryden’s conclusion as to the desirability of a para- phrase was not the correct one. He was addressing the DRYDEN ON CHAUCER 107 men of a generation to the vast majority of whom Chau- cer was unknown. Even those who had any acquaint- ance with him at all knew him only in editions in which the carelessness of copyists, the blunders of printers, and the ignorance of editors had combined sometimes to ob- scure his sense, but more often to impair and occasionally to destroy the beauty of his versification. Those who had the desire did not then have the means of pursuing the study of his language. The natural obscurity which, in that respect, time had brought about was to most readers rendered apparently several shades deeper by printing his writings in the black-letter type which had long been abandoned in the case of every other author, and, in consequence, came at last to be considered by many as essential to the adequate and accurate repre- sentation of the early poet’s ideas. As a matter of fact, indeed, the two classes mentioned by Dryden have lasted down to our own time. It is only the numbers and influence of the two that have been reversed. There are those of the present day who know as little of Chaucer and condemn him as glibly, though not so loudly, as the most ignorant pretenders to taste of the latter half of the seventeenth century. But this critical estimate now is dimly conscious that it is based wholly upon ignorance. It is clearly suspicious that the expression of it will be looked upon as indica- tive of obtuseness rather than of superior insight. It is therefore ordinarily not disposed to avow its lack of ap- preciation, and very rarely to plume itself upon it. For there is at present, what there was not even a hundred years ago, a large and steadily increasing body of culti- o8 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY vated readers to whom Chaucer’s language presents no difficulties, to whom the melody of his verse is manifest, and by whom the greatness of his genius is both recog- nized and understood. If no such influential body ex- isted a century ago, still less did it exist in the genera- tion that Dryden addressed. He himself felt that in much which he said he was taking extreme ground. He assures us that for preferring Chaucer to Ovid he ex- pected to be thought little less than mad by the vulgar judges who, in his estimate, constitute nine parts in ten of all nations. As by his very comparison the vulgar ( judges of whom he spake must have been largely made up of the graduates of the universities, it can be seen that he did not reckon upon much support for his opin- ions from the educated class. It is a striking illustra- tion of Dryden’s genuine critical judgment that he could recognize so plainly Chaucer’s power, and find so many things to admire, in spite not merely of the general senti- ment of his time, but also of the wretched form in which the poet’s works appeared, and of his own ignorance of a great deal that is now well known to the least keen- sighted of us all. For no man, however great, can be wholly superior to his age, and in matters of knowledge is little likely to be ; much above it. Dryden’s remarks upon Chaucer are \ very convincing evidence both of his ignorance and of his insight. They are singularly distinguished by their want of knowledge of the poet and by their apprecia- tion of his poetry. He is full of misstatements of fact. He not merely attributes to Chaucer the spurious ‘ Plow- man’s Tale’ — which is an error of his tim_e, and not spe- DRYDEN ON CHAUCER 109 cifically of himself — but he seems to confuse it with Langland’s ‘ Vision of Piers Plowman,’ which is purely a blunder of his own. In the passage quoted from the version of Boileau’s ‘Art of Poetry’ we have seen that twenty years before he had referred to the freedom of Chaucer’s rymes — by which he meant the license of his versification — as something offensive to the modern method. This view he now reinforced more fully. His remarks upon his metre gave the weight of his authority to the opinion then generally accepted that the early poet was in matter of form a rude, unpolished writer. He was characterized by Dryden as a rough diamond. H is words, his admirer declared, must be given up as a post not to be defended, because he understood not the — modern science of fortification. His lines often lacked the proper number of syllables. His verse, as a neces- sary consequence, was frequently deficient in harmony. It is almost needless to add that these assertions were accompanied with the usual declaration made during the hundred years following the Restoration, that it was to Waller and Denham that English verse owed its perfec- tion and final polish ; that these two men, who rose no exalted height above the grade of poetasters, had a skill In versification far greater than all the mighty masters who had gone before ; and that, indeed, our numbers were in their nonage till these pygmies came. These were the crudities and absurdities of the criticism of the age ; and though we may regret that Dryden was not superior to them, we can hardly be surprised at it. In truth, it would have been more than strange had Dryden taken any other ground than he did. Harri- I lO CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY son’s censure of his modernizations shows that the most thorough-going of the admirers of Chaucer did not deny the rudeness of that poet’s versification. They simply contended that this rudeness was preferable to the polish which another age might seek to bestow; though in the concession the feeling can be detected that in the defer- ence then paid to cadence and sound there was a sort of literary effeminacy which did not contrast favorably with the manliness and vigor of the earlier time. By all these advocates of the poet the words were practically given up, to use Dryden’s phrase, as a post not to be defended. In place of the praise usually bestowed upon diction in the case of other writers, stress was laid upon the assumed higher qualities of matter and invention. Peacham, who, in the earlier part of the seventeenth century, furnished for his contemporaries that frequently printed code of manners entitled ‘ The Complete Gentleman,’ authorita- tively announced to that ideal personage that Chaucer must be accounted among the best of the English books in his library. Yet even at that time he recognized the obsolescence of his language, if not its obsoleteness. For it he presented the usual substitutes. ‘‘Although,” he wrote, “ the style for the antiquity may distaste you, yet as under a bitter and rough rind there lieth a deli- cate kernel of conceit and sweet invention.” Braith- waite also, at the end of his Comment, represents himself as in this way crushing a pestilent critic who had inter- posed a remark to the effect that he could allow well of Chaucer if his language were better. “ Whereto,” he said, “ the author of these Commentaries returned him this answer: ‘Sir, it appears you prefer speech before SUPPOSED RUDENESS OF VERSIFICATION in the head -piece; language before invention; whereas weight of judgment has ever given invention priority before language. And not to leave you dissatisfied, as the time wherein these tales were writ rendered him in- capable of the one, so his pregnancy of fancy approved him incomparable for the other.’ Which answer stilled this censor, and justified the author; leaving New-holme to attest his deserts ; his works to perpetuate his honor.” This particular censor may have been stilled by this argument; but it was not of a kind to make the major- ity of men dumb. Naturally the view expressed was not the one ordinarily taken. It was assuredly one that could not be successfully defended. The alliance be- tween matter and expression in poetry is too close for either to be considered independently of the other. If Chaucer’s diction cannot stand on its own merits, it will never be propped up permanently by the eulogiums paid to his ideas and invention. As his admirers were apparently compelled to admit that his language was lacking in beauty and melody, the uncouthness of his verse came more and more to be assumed as something about which there was not the slightest question. The charge of crudeness and inelegance was the one regu- larly made. It was increasingly echoed and re-echoed through the century that followed. There is scarcely an extended reference to Chaucer which does not either assert it or imply it. The glory of his numbers had been lost, according to Waller, through the changes constant- ly going on in the language. But the eighteenth cen- tury was not disposed to concede that any glory had be- longed to his numbers in the first place. The best that 1 12 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY could be said of him was that he, a rude man living in a rude age, had possessed a native strength which justified later times in bestowing upon him the patronage of a guarded approval. We who have learned to recognize in him one of the greatest, if not the greatest master in our tongue of melodious versification, can hardly afford to sneer at the misconceptions of the preceding century, when our own, with ample facilities for arriving at the truth, has largely contented itself with repeating, and often in exaggerated phrase, the blunders of the past. Still, though Dryden’s authority gave vitality to a prevalent error on this point, his criticism was on the whole of great and enduring benefit to Chaucer’s repu- tation. It did not, to be sure, bring him at the time into vogue. That was the work of a later generation. But it did bring him, as regards the general public of educated men, into that sort of estimation in which many authors exist who are spoken well of by every- body, though read by few or none. From this period on, moreover, there was a slow but steadily increasing revival of interest in the early poet. It did not at first manifest itself to any great degree in genuine study. Yet it is plain that his writings were more or less fa- miliar to nearly all the prominent men of letters of the former half of the eighteenth century. This acquaint- ance, however, did not by any means always involve appreciation. Respect of a peculiar kind was paid to his memory. For, after a fashion, Chaucer for a while, curiously enough, became a fashion. Two methods of showing him honor sprang into existence. One was the composition of works written in his manner, or in IMITATIONS OF CHAUCER II3 his supposed manner. The other was the carrying out and extending to his remaining works the process of modernization which had been begun by Dryden. These were both illegitimate methods of spreading his repu- tation. The result, so far as there was any result, was to make him notorious rather than known. They, doubtless, carried his name where otherwise it would not have been heard of ; but they gave an entirely false conception of his genius. The history of the former of these methods, as on the whole less influential, will first be related. It would be untrue to speak of the practice of imita- tion as due to Dryden’s influence, so far as its origin was concerned. The revival of interest in our earlier writers began to show itself in the closing years of the century in which he flourished. But the movement in this direction did not owe its first impulse to him or to any one man. Sufficient notice has never been taken of it in the history of literature. There is, indeed, an ignorance at the present time of the attitude of the mind of the eighteenth century towards the past, which perpetually betrays us into the grossest errors. Much stress, for illustration, is constantly laid upon Gold- smith’s remark that he had never heard of Drayton. It is often quoted as if his ignorance were proof of gen- eral ignorance. Nothing could well be farther from the truth. It is specially unfair to any period to test its knowledge or appreciation of any subject or person from the chance sayings of a man of genius, whose present popularity gives his assertions a weight which they were far from possessing in his own day. Goldsmith had as III.— 8 1 14 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY little acquaintance as the men who quote him with the fact that what can be called the first collected edition of Drayton’s works was published only a few years before he expressed himself as he did. His ignorance, indeed, was distributed over a wide variety of subjects, and he is no more a competent witness to the knowledge of our past literature possessed by the eighteenth cen- tury than he is to its knowledge of natural history. No one, to be sure, will pretend that there existed then much familiarity with any of our early writers. But the ignorance was a relative, and not an absolute, one. The study of them was moving back slowly, but it moved. In process of time it would have reached Chaucer had Dryden never written a word. All that in justice can be ascribed to him is that he gave a power- ful impulse to a revolution that was destined under any circumstances to run its course. Spenser, as nearer in time and language, was the first to be struck by this wave ; and there are probably few persons outside of professed students of English literature who have any conception of the number of productions written in avowed imitation of that poet’s manner during the whole of the eighteenth century. Moreover, if allusions to the ‘ Fairy Queen,’ in books and periodicals, can be taken as a test of acquaintance with the work itself, there is every reason to believe that it was read far more then than now. The consideration of these imitations of Spenser is out of place here. They were far greater in number than those of Chaucer. They were also more success- ful. The worst of them had a certain claim to likeness, SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS II5 which is something that can rarely be said of the best of the efforts to reproduce the style and language of the earlier poet. Still, these latter were the first to be attempted. They had their origin in the decay of knowl- edge. Men began to adopt and parade Chaucer’s words as soon as they had ceased to understand them. The result was that a style of writing, which never had any existence anywhere, was taken as the model to which all writers archaically inclined were expected to con- form. The earliest of these efforts to represent the manner of the poet with which I am acquainted was the production of one of the scholars with whose at- tendant encomiums Kinaston’s Latin translation of ‘ Troilus and Cressida’ was ushered into the world. His name was Francis James, and he signed himself as bachelor of arts of New College, Oxford. His piece was a short one of fourteen lines. Still, he contrived to pack into this brief composition a goodly number of the less known and less easily understood of the words and phrases which are to be found in the more than thirty thousand lines of the poet he imitated. It is not the solitary instance of this scholar’s archaic predi- lections of which Chaucer was the victim. To a trans- lation of the ‘ Loves of Clitophon and Leucippus,’ from the Greek of Achilles Tatius, which was published in 1638, he prefixed a copy of commendatory verses. They consisted of double the number of lines that were found in the piece that has just been mentioned. They were built, however, upon the same plan, and exhibited the same characteristics. James was altogether more Chau- cerian than Chaucer himself. As large a collection as Il6 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY possible of peculiarities of expression, most remote from modern speech, had been carefully culled out, and brought together in the compass of these few lines. The reader who got his conception of fourteenth-cen- tury English from these imitations would find it a mat- ter of some little difficulty to understand how nine- teenth-century English could ever have been developed out of a language of this sort. There is, indeed, in the first part of the ‘ Return from Parnassus,’ which, though not published until 1886, was produced at the end of the sixteenth century, a so-called imitation of Chaucer’s style.^ It is almost perfectly cor- rect, there being but one error of inflection in it, and this consists merely in incorrectly attributing to the poet a grammatical form he would not ordinarily have used, though in itself it is not incorrect.^ But this ac- curacy was easily secured. The passage was brief, con- sisting but of three seven-line stanzas. Moreover, nearly all the lines of it are taken wholly, or in part, from ‘ Troi- lus and Cressida.’ Its existence, therefore, can hardly be held to conflict with the previous statement that it was Francis James with whom this series of imitations be- gan. It was, perhaps, his example that inspired another effort of a somewhat similar kind. Cartwright has been already mentioned as the only one of the poetical corn- menders of Kinaston’s attempt whose name can be said to survive in literary history. Even in the list of the illustrious obscure with whom he must be classed he does not hold a prominent place. Still, by his contem- poraries he was looked upon as remarkable both for ^ In act iv,, scene i. ^ Ybears, ryming with the plural tears. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS II7 his learning and his parts, and his early death was deep- ly deplored. His imitation of Chaucer’s language is, therefore, a suggestive example of the ignorance that had come to prevail about it even among those who were theoretically familiar with his writings. In his commendatory lines Cartwright had intimated that the ancient poet, who had hitherto been dumb to strangers and even to his own countrymen, was now, through the medium of Kinaston’s translation, to speak plain- ly to all. He speedily took occasion to furnish satis- factory evidence that there was one person certainly to whom he had not spoken with much distinctness. Some time before his death, which took place in 1643, one of his plays, entitled ‘ The Ordinary,’ was brought out. It was an imitation of Ben Jonson’s ‘Alchemist.’ All the characters in it who are not scoundrels are fools, and many of them are both. It is to be remarked, also, that the worst of the crew, after the exposure of their villainies, resolve to take refuge in the congenial soil of New England, where no good works are allowed, and faith alone is demanded. An extremely shallow-brained personage in the play is an antiquary named Moth. He goes about uttering speeches made up almost en- tirely by joining together detached phrases and lines from Chaucer’s writings. It is, as might be expected, a sort of jargon that never came actually from any mortal lips. But the most surprising thing connected with it is the absolute ignorance exhibited by its de- viser of the most common words used by the poet. The impossible grammar could be forgiven if any possible sense could be attached to what is said. Gross as are Il8 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY the failures of some of the eighteenth-century imitators of Chaucer’s style, it must be conceded that Cartwright I surpassed them all in the production of a phraseology j which would have been as incomprehensible to a man of the fourteenth century as it is to one of the nineteenth. The ‘ Musarum Deliciae,’ to which attention has pre- viously been called, contained two satiric pieces in imi- tation of Chaucer’s style. Though no name is attached to them, they were in all probability the composition of Sir John Mennis. Their merit is of a purely negative character. The language, though not absolutely, was comparatively, free from mistakes ; but there was nothing in what was said to arouse the slightest interest. The same can be said of an imitation of the tale of Sir Tho- pas which appeared in a collection of political pieces entitled ‘ Choice Drollery.’ This, like the preceding, came out in 1656. Apparently much more important than either of these was a little work which appeared in 1672, entitled ‘Chaucer’s Ghost, or a Piece of Antiquity containing twelve Pleasant Fables of Ovid penned after the ancient manner of writing in England.’ The poems were accompanied with a story in prose called the ‘ Pleas- ant History of Prince Corniger and his Champion SirCru- cifrag.’ The work was a peculiar one. Its title gave the impression that it had been designedly composed in imi- tation of Chaucer’s style. But it takes the very briefest of readings to convince even a superficial student of four- teenth-century literature that it is not the ghost of that poet who has made his appearance, but the ghost of Gower. His mechanical manner, his monotonous move- ment, are both there. An examination of the pieces estab- EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS II9 lishes the further fact that it is not the ghost of Gower that has been brought upon the stage, but the real Gower himself. The twelve poems found in this little volume are taken bodily from the ‘ Confessio Amantis,’ with few and slight modernizations, but enough to ren- der them easily intelligible. But there is not a hint in the preface, or anywhere in the work itself, of the real source. Chaucer could never have been plagiarized in this way without detection. Gower in that age, and, for that matter, in most ages, could be plundered with im- punity by any one who deemed him worth plundering at all. The existence of the pieces that have been mentioned is, of course, proof positive that it was not to anything said by Dryden that the practice of composing imita- tions of Chaucer owed its origin. Still, it was indirectly to him that the extension of the practice was mainly due. His essay in praise of the poet was speedily followed by an outburst of productions of this sort. Nor did it cease very soon. For more than a half-century after Dryden’s death it became the fashion to offer a tribute of respect to Chaucer in the questionable shape of spurious imita- tion. To write in the style of Spenser — which in the eighteenth century meant to adopt the Spenserian stan- za, flavored with a little bad grammar and the occasional insertion of an obsolete word — was not a task of ex- treme difficulty. Its practice in some instances was even attended with a moderate degree of success. For when Spenser is once stripped of his strange spelling, his lan- guage is hardly more difficult to us in any respect than it was to the men of his own time, while we have facili- 120 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ties far greater than they possessed for gaining complete comprehension of his archaic words and spurious coin- ages. The case is altogether different with Chaucer. His speech is the speech of his age. It is therefore to be acquired by him who is willing to put forth the requisite amount of exertion. But his manner is one supremely difficult to catch, on account of its combination of sim- plicity and naturalness with never-failing dignity. The difficulty is still further increased by the presence in his satire of a peculiar archness and delicacy that almost eludes analysis, and by the ease and spontaneity of his expression, which never, under any stress, degenerates into slovenliness. He is, in consequence, one of the hardest of poets to imitate successfully. In this re- spect he stands next tq Shakspeare, who cannot be suc- cessfully imitated at all. Not thus, however, thought the men of the early part of the eighteenth century. To produce a poem after the pleasant manner, as the phrase ran, of Geoffrey Chaucer became the correct thing for the writers of that age to attempt. The list of those who concerned themselves in these efforts includes the names of some eminent poets, besides a host of repre- sentatives from the noble army of poetasters. Pope, Prior, and Gay can be mentioned among those who tried their fortune in this literary tournament. But besides the essays of these, and of men like these, there appear in the periodicals and poetical collections and miscella- nies of the eighteenth century compositions of unknown authors, or of authors who have had time to become now unknown, which purport to be written in Chaucer’s EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS I2I manner. They are nearly all of them in a so-called fa- cetious strain, of which it is extremely difficult at present to detect the facetiousness. They were sometimes, and perhaps always, printed in black-letter, in accordance with that curious superstition of which we have already had occasion to take notice several times, and which we shall meet more than once again. For instance. Prior’s imitative poems called ‘Susanna and the Two Elders’ and ‘ Erie Robert’s Mice ’ were brought out in this type on their original publication in 1712. These imitations are clearly evidence that in a certain way a good deal of attention was paid to the original. But they do not show that it was understood or appre- ciated. If anything, they show the reverse. For the attempt to reproduce the style and diction of Chaucer was remarkable for nothing so much as for the com- pleteness of its failure. It is plain from these eigh- teenth-century imitations that three things were held to be desirable in any production which set out to repre- sent adequately the early poet’s manner. The receipt for its composition was, in truth, a very simple one. The story must be obscene, the language must be ungram- matical, and the verse must be rugged. The three char- acteristics were successfully blended, though it would be unjust to say that the first was insisted upon unquali- fiedly. There are a number of these pieces, though usually very short ones, which are remarkable for the absence of impurity. Still, the lack of it was generally felt to be showing a certain want of faithfulness to the so-called merry spirit of the original. Moreover, the nastiness which characterizes these productions is genu- 122 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ine eighteenth-century nastiness — a dragging-in of coarse images and ideas for their own sake, a fondness for filth as filth. Chaucer, in the tales with which most fault has been found by moralists, certainly does not go out of his way to avoid obscenity. Still, he does not tell his story for the sake of the sin. The sin is recounted because it happens to be a necessary ingredient in what is a good story. In the eighteenth-century imitations, however, the sin was not an accident of the tale, or an incident in it ; it was the thing alone for which the tale was told. Fortunately, the depravity of these pieces was, in nearly all cases, effectually counteracted by their dulness. In the matter of metre and language, the deviations from the original were even more marked. Chaucer’s lines were understood to lack the proper number of words or syllables, to have the words they possessed accented in the most outlandish ways, and, in short, to combine all the qualities that suffice to render verse rough and unharmonious. These peculiarities it was necessary to reproduce. In this respect the work was done faithfully. But the greatest failure of all was in the language. The producers of these imitations seemed to be largely under the belief that the farther they could get from the correct usage of their own age, the nearer they were to the usage of the poet’s age. Their knowl- edge was very much upon the level of that occupied now by the dabblers in the spelling of ‘ ye olden time,’ as they term it, who fancy that they reproduce the or- thography of the past by doubling consonants at random and adding a final e to every word which has not one al- ready. In this respect the eighteenth-century imitations EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS 1 23 show generally a decided falling- off of knowledge as compared with those of the seventeenth, with the one exception of Cartwright’s. Those of the latter which have fallen under my own observation exhibit, it is true, certain mistakes in the matter of language arising from a failure to comprehend what was peculiar to the gram- mar of the fourteenth century. They sin, too, by their excess in the employment of forms comparatively unu- sual. Their work was, in fine, the work of men who wholly admired, but understood only imperfectly. So much as this can scarcely be said of their successors in the century that followed. Theirs was the work of men who admired conventionally, and did not understand at all. Common English written in an uncommon way, filled with strange words, and words in strange senses, and disfigured by grammar which would have puzzled the grammarians of any epoch, was their conception of what constituted Old English. The result, from a linguistic point of view, was more striking than satisfactory. A failure to catch the spirit of Chaucer’s writing, and also the melody of his versifi- cation, could be assumed in advance. Yet it did not seem unreasonable to expect that a distant approach to the words and grammar of his period might be made by some few of those who set out to reproduce what was termed the antique phrase of the original. Results of this kind were rarely obtained, even remotely. The language in which most of these imitations were couched is a language that has never been spoken by anybody since the English tongue began to have an existence of its own. It is easy to detect the blunders that were 124 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY made, and usually to see how they happened to be made. Yet peculiar words are occasionally found to which the reader can attach no definite meaning, for there is nothing in the words themselves, or in the con- text, to suggest what they could have been intended to mean. Two genuine Chaucerian terms there are, in- deed, constantly employed. These are the adverbs ne and eke. They were apparently the only words of which these imitators had grasped the full significance, and in consequence they are scattered about the lines in profusion. Yet even of them the knowledge was not a universal knowledge. Prior, for instance, used the adverb ne in the sense of the adjective 7io. Still, it was not in the vocabulary, but in the gram- mar, that the most startling contributions were made to the language. One illustration, easy of comprehen- sion, will suffice to make the point plain. In Chaucer the plural of the present tense of the verb ended in en, if it had the full termination ; but this termination was never used by him in the singular of this tense, or by any other author in any dialect of our tongue who wrote English as it is, and not as it has been supposed to be. Thus it follows that in the fourteenth century one could say we^ or ye, or t/iey loven ; but it would have been as impossible then to say I, or thou, or he loven as it is now. This distinction it does not require any prolonged study of the works of the poet to observe. Yet it was evidently something that had never attracted the at- tention of his imitators. The forms which he would not and could not have used were the very forms which they used by preference. This was a species of blun- EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS 125 der that was early made. It can be found, as we have already seen, in a production that goes so far back as the ‘Court of Love.’^ But it is the writers of the eigh- teenth century who display most signally the disposition to resort to this particular spurious form. Their fond- ness for the singular in en amounted almost to a morbid craving. Gay, for instance, has in a poem of about sev- enty lines such phrases as ‘ It maken doleful song,’ ‘ There spreaden a rumour,’ and ‘ Fear createn,’ and numerous other specimens of this peculiar grammatical concord.^ “ If in mine quest thou falsen me,” says Fen- ton in his “ tale devised in the pleasant manner of gen- tle Geoffrey Chaucer.” “ Ne hopen I his permagall to see,” exclaims William Thompson in the inscription he wrote entitled ‘ In Chaucer’s Boure.’ Spenser had previously failed, to some extent, to understand the poet he admired and studied. In these imitations we find the sort of work that would naturally be made by men who failed even to understand Spenser. The most successful of these pieces — if successful be a term properly applied to what in no case succeeded — was the work of the Reverend Thomas Warton, for ten years professor of poetry at Oxford, but better known now as the father of two more eminent sons. He had not the genius to rise, even remotely, to the level of his great original ; but the scholar’s habit of accuracy saved him from the gross blunders into which mere men of letters fell heedlessly. His production, in consequence, has one distinguishing advantage over that of his rivals ^ See vol. i,, pp, 502 and 503. ymously in Lintot’s Miscellany, en- ^ ‘ ‘ An Answer to the Sompner’s titled Poems on Several Occasions Prologue in Chaucer,” printed anon- (1717), p. 147. 126 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY in this species of composition. It is written in the Eng- lish language. Moreover, he had the sagacity do select for his experiment a passage which lends itself with comparative ease to imitation. This was the charac- terization of the birds that is found in the ^ Parliament of Fowls.’ It was after the fashion set by Chaucer in that poem that Warton paraphrased the verses in the eleventh chapter of Leviticus, which laid down the law in regard to the winged animals that the Jews were to hold unclean.^ As his was perhaps the best of these pieces, what is probably on the whole the worst was the composition of the most pretentious poetical prig that the eighteenth century produced. This was Mason, who still lingers in literary history, after a vicarious fash- ion, as the friend of Gray. He was himself, however, not actually devoid of poetical ability. At least at one period of his life spitefulness gave a vigor to his pen which inspiration was never able to impart, and he pro- duced, as a result, some abusive and therefore still read- able satires. The imitation to which reference has been made consists of nothing but a single passage in a longer poem. Still, in a certain way, it is the most in- teresting specimen of these spurious reproductions of the past. It is brief, and it is comprehensive. It com- bines in the compass of some two dozen lines about all the peculiarities of halting verse, bad grammar, un- couth words, and impossible inflections which consti- tuted what the eighteenth century chose to consider the antique diction of Chaucer. ^ Poems on Several Occasions^ by the Rev. Thomas Warton (1748), p. 30. EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS 12; The poem of which this imitation was a part was oc- casioned by the death of Pope. That event took place in 1744. Some time after, Mason wrote a monody upon the dead poet which was published in 1747. It bore the title of ‘ Musaeus,’ and was a particularly feeble echo of the ‘ Lycidas ’ of Milton. The plan of that pastoral it followed pretty closely. Chaucer, Spenser, and Mil- ton were represented as coming to mourn the inevita- ble loss of him who was about to die. In the pas- sages in which they were introduced as giving expres- sion to their sorrow. Mason strove to reproduce their respective styles, as he did also that of Pope himself. It is, everywhere, a mere mechanical imitation from which the life is effectually excluded. Poor as it was in the case of the later poets, it was in the repre- sentation of the manner of the earliest that the fal- setto note which runs through all of Mason’s work exhibits itself in its fullest and harshest form. It is in the following artless strains, as he would have con- sidered and called them, that Chaucer is represented as chanting his contribution to the general wail of woe : “ First, sent from Cam’s fair banks, like Palmer old. Came Tityrus slow, with head all silvered o’er. And in his hand an oaken crook he bore. And thus in antique guise short talk did hold : ‘Crete clerk of Fame’is house, whose excellence ‘ Male wele befitt thilk place of eminence, ‘ Mickle of wele betide thy houres last, ‘For mich gode wirke to me don and past. ‘ For syn the days whereas my lyre ben strongen, ‘ And deftly many a mery laie I songen. 128 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ‘ Old Time, which alle things don maliciously ‘Gnawen with rusty tooth continually, ‘ Gnattrid my lines, that they all cancrid ben, ' ‘Till at the last thou smoothen ’hem hast againi ‘Sithence full semely gliden my rimes rude, ‘As, (if fitteth thilk similitude) ‘Whanne shallow brook yrenneth hobling on, ‘ Ovir rough stones it makith full rough song : ‘ But, them stones removen, this lite rivere ‘ Stealith forth by, making plesaunt murmere : ‘ So my sely rymes, whoso may them note, ‘ Thou makist everichone to ren right sote : ‘And in thy verse entunist so fetisely, ‘ That men sayen I make trewe melody, ‘And speaken every dele to myne honoure. ‘ Mich wele, grete clerk, betide thy parting houre.’ ” He is then represented as ceasing his “homely ryme” and making place for Spenser. No student of Chaucer needs to be told that language is hardly contemptuous enough to set forth satisfactorily the contemptible character of this imitation. It is an outrage both upon the memory of the poet and of the speech in which he wrote. Yet there is no question that it was generally thought at the time to be a successful reproduction of the diction of Chaucer. Mason was hailed by some as the coming poet upon the strength of this one production. Even as late as 1806 Bowles in his edition of Pope^ styled it “the exquisite Musaeus.” That this cuckoo song could so long have been mistaken for the note of a nightingale is one of those perversities of criticism which leave the reader in doubt whether ^ Vol. i., p. cxviii. EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS 1 29 there is in reality anything that can be deemed even remotely a standard of taste. The affirmative view can only be maintained in this case upon the ground that knowledge is essential to any proper literary judgment, and that then knowledge of our early speech did not exist. The passage which purported to represent Chau- cer’s style found censurers, it is true : but it was its pro- priety that was called in question, not its accuracy. A slight controversy on this very point was carried on in the ‘ Gentleman’s Magazine ’ for 1749. A correspondent who signed himself C. B., and evidently a pronounced advocate of the process of modernization then going on, took Mason seriously to task for the raiment in which he had clothed his monody. Do we read Chaucer or Spenser, he asked, for their language or for their senti- ments? Most assuredly for their sentiments, was his re- ply to his own question. He then went on to pay a tribute to Pope for the modernizations he had made. “ Who,” he wrote, “ can read those embellished tales of Chaucer, and the no less improved satires of Dr. Donne, without admiring the piety as well as poetry of him who has rescued from oblivion what must else have perished in the ruins of an antiquated style, and given them im- mortality by a language which we trust will never die?” C. B. was not to have it all his own way, however. B. C., a rival and reversed representative of the alphabet, at- tacked speedily his position. The communication was evidently inspired by Mason, and perhaps written by him. It had nothing but contempt for the opposing view. This it expressed with all the forcible feebleness of italicized words. I own,” he wrote, “ till this in- III.— 9 130 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY stant I was thoughtless enough to admire with the mul- titude the dress of Mr. Mason s pla 7 t as a piece of the most delicate propriety ; and really imagined that Chau- cer and Spenser made a more natural and easy figure in the cloathes they were used to wear, than any he could have supplied them with of the modern cut.” It would be a hard task to decide now which of these two dispu- tants had shallower knowledge of the points in controver- sy. One’s respect for Tyrwhitt constantly rises the more fully he gets an insight into the ideas usually prevalent in the eighteenth century in regard to the English lan- guage in general and to that of Chaucer in particular. I do not mean to give the impression that these imi- tations were exceedingly numerous. Indeed, the most satisfactory thing about them is their fewness. Nor would it be just to say that there was universal confi- dence in their correctness, or that suspicion of their spurious character could not be found even among those who made little pretension to know accurately. As fa- miliarity with the authors of the past steadily though slowly increased, this lurking distrust naturally became bolder. It might not dare to assert itself with positive- ness ; but it made its existence felt. Armstrong, for il- lustration, in his poem on ‘Taste,’ which was first pub- lished in May, 1753, took occasion to satirize some of the sentiments then generally entertained about the popular writers of the age preceding his own. Towards Prior, as exhibiting the characteristics of Spenser, he was especially contemptuous. He indulged in several de- rogatory comparisons as to the likeness of the writings of that poet to their assumed inspirer. The particular EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY IMITATIONS 131 comparison with which it concludes has for us a special interest ; for in it he intimates that Prior had been no more successful in reproducing the style of Chaucer than he had that of Spenser. Yet while he expressed an opinion to that effect, he expressed it guardedly. He spoke as if he were not absolutely certain of the truth of the criticism he made. He was sufficiently a student of Spenser to feel justified in taking the position about him he did. In the case of Chaucer there was not famil- iarity enough with his language to beget this confidence. The very couplet, therefore, which contained the dis- paraging comparison showed Armstrong’s distrust of his own knowledge as well as'of the knowledge of the poet whose imitation he was attacking. It reads as follows : “ As like as (if I am not grossly wrong) Erie Robert’s mice to aught e’er Chaucer sung.” While distrust consequently existed, it was not based upon certainty of knowledge. But though the latter lingered, it was nevertheless coming. It was therefore merely a question of time when doubt of the accuracy of these reproductions of the language of the past would be followed by denial. This increasing suspicion had much to do with the fact that few of these imitations were produced after the middle of the eighteenth cen- tury. It is very rarely, indeed, that they make their ap- pearance in the latter half of it. Still, one almost as poor as any that preceded it can be found as late as 1791 in the periodical paper called the ‘ Bee,’ which was edited by Dr. Anderson.^ But the occurrence of such pieces at ^ Vol. iv,, p, 182. 132 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY this period is, after all, exceptional. They are little more than solitary survivals of a poetic fashion which had had for a while a run with a certain class. From the outset these imitations had been doomed to die. As poetical exercises they had evidently failed, and that had been the sole justification for perpetrating them at all. Their futility was even more manifest than their inaccuracy. The persons who would be impressed by them would nec- essarily not be those who appreciated Chaucer. Those who did not care or found it difficult to read what he wrote could hardly be expected to turn willingly to what some one else wrote of a similar nature, which had nothing to recommend it but a supposed resemblance to an original they did not like or could not understand. At the same time, there existed a widespread, though rather vague, feeling that there was a good deal in Chau- cer that was worth knowing if it could be got at easily. His devotees were few, but they were filled with the en- thusiasm which every great author succeeds in inspiring for himself. As, moreover, they were usually men of ex- ceptional cultivation, their intensity of conviction made an impression even upon those who had not the slight- est inclination to share their supposed labors. This feel- ing was an important agency in stimulating the endeav- ors that were made during the eighteenth century to turn, or, as it was called, to translate, the writings of the poet into the current English of the time. The desire to know Avithout taking the trouble to learn was as po- tent then as now ; though, in consequence of the com- paratively limited number of subjects that pressed upon the attention, there was not so much of an effort to make PRACTICE OF MODERNIZATION 133 the path to omniscience short as it was to make it easy. The practice of modernization began, as we have seen, with Dryden ; at least it was he who made it popular. It was persistently kept up after he had once shown the way. It is only within a comparatively short period that it has been abandoned, if even yet it can be said to have been abandoned. That it contributed at first to spread the name of Chaucer may be conceded. Farther than that it is hardly safe to go : though that it induced some to seek the acquaintance of the original may be admitted as a possible, but by no means as a necessary, result. To the reader of to-day, indeed, it would seem that most of these modernizations must have had the effect of deterring men from the study of the poet rather than stimulating them to pursue it. They were gener- ally uninteresting. If at all interesting, they were un- faithful. They furnish as a whole a signally dreary ad- dition to that dreary body of literature which grows up about and incrusts the writings of a man of great genius, which cannot be ignored by the conscientious student of his works, though its examination is as unprofitable usually as it is invariably tedious. Wretched as these modernizations have usually been, they have played a far from insignificant part in the his- tory of Chaucer’s reputation. To understand the feel- ings that led to their production, and the feelings with which at different periods they have been regarded, is to gain a fair comprehension of the changes that during the past two hundred years have taken place in the opinions held by men about the poet. Hence, it becomes a mat- ter of necessity to recount their history fully. They owe 134 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY their rise, in the first place, to the existence of certain be- liefs about Chaucer and the language in which he wrote. These beliefs, once almost universally prevalent; will not seem altogether strange now; for, though they have long been dying, they are still a long way from being dead. Strictly they concerned no one author in particular. They were in the nature of generalizations about the English tongue, and the fate that was sure, sooner or later, to overtake every one who intrusted to it the preservation of his name and fame. Still, Chaucer, as the acknowl- edged supreme head of all who had written in the early speech, served almost invariably to point the moral that was drawn. Hence, in making him the central figure in the discussion of the causes that brought about these attempts at modernization, we are only following the custom of our fathers. The first, then, of these beliefs was that the language of Chaucer, like that of all the writers of his time, was obsolete. It was obsolete not in the sense that it pre- sented frequently recurring difficulties in the way of its comprehension, but in the sense that it required a special and prolonged course of study for its mastery. For all practical purposes it was a dead language. It might, in- deed, be easier to acquire than Latin or Greek, or the English of the tenth century. But while the degree of difficulty varied in its favor, the nature of it was essen- tially the same. Even though, as compared with the classic tongues, the task of gaining a knowledge of it might be less burdensome in itself, the facilities for gaining this knowledge were far fewer. Dictionaries were indispensable for its comprehension ; grammars ASSUMED OBSOLETENESS OF HIS LANGUAGE 1 35 were desirable. The one of these helps existed very im- perfectly ; the other did not exist at all. Nor was this notion of the complete obsoleteness of Chaucer’s lan- guage limited to the men who paid no attention to the literature much earlier than that of their own time. There was widespread ignorance everywhere of every- thing written before the Elizabethan period. The nat- ural magnifying of the unknown as the terrible took place. Moreover, even those men of letters who had made incursions into this mysterious realm brought back alarming reports of the toilsome nature of the journey, and were pretty unanimous in the view that, however stately may have been the literary structures that had been erected there in former ages, they had now become little more than heaps of ruins. To the obsoleteness of Chaucer’s language, in particu- lar, a succession of witnesses bore the most unqualified testimony. In the seventeenth century there were now and then found persons who took exception to this view. Sir Aston Cokayne, for instance, has among his poems an epigram in which he denounces those who hold such an opinion as unacquainted with their own tongue. These are his words : “ Our good old Chaucer some despise : and why ? Because they say he writeth barbarously. Blame him not [Ignorants] but yourselves, that do Not at these years your native language know.”* The work containing these lines was published in 1658. It is clear from them that the view stigmatized was even * Cokayne’s Chain of Golden Poems (London, 1658), p. 155. 136 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY then a view widely entertained. It naturally did hot be- come less prevalent as time went on. After the seven- teenth century the obsoleteness of the poet’s language was a fact, to all appearance, universally accepted. From the number who assumed it, or bewailed it, I select a few who represent various grades of culture and dif- ferent periods of time. Among the greatest was the poet Dryden. In 1679, in the dedication of his play of ‘Troilus and Cressida,’ he adverted to the difficulty of reading Chaucer. “ It would mortify an Englishman,” he wrote, “ to consider that from the time of Boccace and Petrarch the Italian has varied very little ; and that the English of Chaucer, their contemporary, is not to be understood without the help of an old dictionary.” Elsewhere the same sentiments are expressed by him in still stronger language. In 1711, Fenton sent to the dramatist Southerne an epistle in verse which was main- ly taken up with critical remarks upon the history of poetry. It has, besides, an interest of its own as one of several evidences that the Popean couplet existed before Pope had produced anything which any one felt it desir- able to imitate ; that while it is to his genius that couplet owes its universality as well as the perfection of its fin- ish, it would have been developed after a fashion had he never lived. In the course of his epistle, Fenton, in pay- ing a compliment to his countrywomen, expressed the general feeling that existed about the language of Chau- cer. The muse of poetry, he said, had in Greece only a Venus and a Helen to celebrate ; but when she came to Great Britain, ASSUMED OBSOLETENESS OF HIS LANGUAGE 1 37 “A thousand radiant nymphs she here beheld, Who matched the goddess and the queen excelled. To immortalize their loves she long essayed, But still the tongue her generous toil betrayed : Chaucer had all that beauty could inspire. And Surrey’s numibers glowed with warm desire : Both now are prized by few, unknown to most. Because the thoughts are in the numbers lost.”^ Here it will be observed that not only is Chaucer looked upon as obsolete, but also a writer as late as Sur- rey. Spenser likewise, and indeed with much more rea- son, was permitted to share with the great early poet in the dubious renown of unintelligibility. Chesterfield, for instance, who, in his letters to his son, touched incident- ally upon everything, whether he knew anything about it or not, could not be expected to make an exception of this particular topic. A reference to it occurs in the course of some remarks of his upon the subject of Latin composition. He was particularly urgent that those words only should be employed which were found in the writers of the Augustan age, or of the age imme- diately preceding. To enforce his point he carefully ex- plained to the boy the distinction between the pedant, and the gentleman who is at the same time a scholar. The former affected rare words found only in the pages of obscure or antiquated authors rather than those used by the great classic writers. “ By this rule,” he went on to say, I might write to you in the language of Chaucer and Spenser, and assert that I wrote English because it ^ An Epistle to Mr. SoutJierne from Mr. El. Eenton from Kent, Jan. 28, 17H (London, 1711). 138 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY was English in those days : but I should be a most af- fected puppy if I did so, and you would not understand three words of my letter.”^ The sentiment of Chester- field is, in a general way, just enough ; yet it is evident that he is speaking not from the fulness of knowledge, but from the fulness of ignorance. His words imply a degree of remoteness on the part of the poets he men- tioned which did not exist, and on his own part a degree of intimacy with their writings in the existence of which there is still less reason for believing ; for if he could have written in their English, he would have been aware that his son would not have found the difficulty in read- ing it which he fancied. Yet this exaggerated concep- tion of the difference between the language of the writ- ers of the past and of those of his own day represented unquestionably the current belief of his time. No mat- ter whether the sentiment was uttered by known or un- known men, by authors obscure then and unheard of now, it was invariably the same. Deliverances of this character, in which Chaucer was constantly brought in to illustrate the transitoriness of earthly reputation, are recorded in abundance on the pages of the books and magazines of the period. He was constantly compared to men whose reputation must rest not upon what they have said themselves, but upon what is said of them by others. His fame was like that of a great orator whose words have utterly perished, or that of a great actor who must trust for remembrance to the admiration his abilities inspire in his own age and the tradition it hands down. Yet the one supreme ' Letter dated Sept. 27, 1748. ASSUMED OBSOLETENESS OF HIS LANGUAGE 139 characteristic of the renown of the great poet is its pow- er of self-perpetuation. The fame of the player is liable to perish, because it is unable to leave anything by which posterity can judge it directly. Yet this evident distinc- tion between the two professions seems rarely to have occurred to the minds of the men of that age. In 1730, the great actress Mrs. Oldfield died, and was buried with much pomp in Westminster Abbey. A few years later a writer, witnessing her resting-place among England’s famous dead, was led to moralize upon the transitori- ness of the reputation which the stage confers. Yet he implied that there was about it nothing peculiar. The same decay of remembrance was sure to overtake the great writers who were sleeping their last sleep by her side. As he expressed it, “ In vain secure of deathless praise There poets’ ashes come, Since obsolete grows Chaucer’s phrase, And moulders with his tomb.”^ This feeling about Chaucer began to pass away after Tyrwhitt’s edition of the ‘ Canterbury Tales ’ had been published ; but it passed away very slowly. The utter- ances of the early part of the eighteenth century still continued to be repeated at its close. In spite of the vast advance in the knowledge of the poet’s language, nothing apparently could shake the belief of men in its archaic and incomprehensible character. In 1785 Pink- erton, under the assumed name of Robert Heron, pub- lished a volume entitled ‘ Letters on Literature.’ In it ^ Fawkes and Woty's Poetical Calendar (I.ondon, 1763), vol. ii., p, 117, 140 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY he propounded, among other matters, a scheme for re- forming and improving the English tongue. One of his proposals was to add o and a to words ending in a final consonant. Walpole, in a private letter to him,' argued as seriously against this proposition as if it were one with which reason had anything to do. He pointed out the havoc such a course, if adopted, would make with our literature. In the usual way Chaucer was dragged in as the warning example. All our poetry,” he wrote, “would be defective in metre, and would become at once as obsolete as Chaucer.” It will have been observed that in these extracts the assumed obsoleteness of Chaucer was not looked upon as his fault, but as his misfortune. It was not imputed to any defect in him, nor to any variation in the taste of the public. It was simply due to the treachery of a tongue that betrayed the men who intrusted to it their thoughts. The language had so altered since the pe- riod in which the poet flourished that he could no longer be understood. As time went on, the difficulty of com- prehending him would naturally increase. But this was the least of the burdens that weighed upon the men of letters of that period. In Chaucer’s obsoleteness they foresaw their own. The fate that had overtaken him was certain to overtake all who wrote in a changing speech. He was nothing more than the most conspic- uous example of the ruin that had already been wrought. Waller, as we have seen, '‘had asserted that he who was anxious for enduring reputation must write in Latin or in Greek. Bacon had before him carried the ^ Letter to John Pinkerton, dated June 22, 1785. “ See page 83. CHANGE IN LANGUAGE I4I principle into practice. This belief met with little dis- sent through the century that followed its utterance. Immortality could not be hoped for by him who wrote in the English tongue. Pope, in his ‘ Essay on Criti- cism,’ carried the doctrine to its logical extreme, and applied its principles to the predecessor he admired and imitated. He summed up the literary situation in the following lines, the last of which remained for a long period a stock quotation : “ Short is the date, alas ! of modern rhymes, And ’tis but just to let them live betimes. No longer now that golden age appears When patriot-wits survived a thousand years : Now length of fame (our second life) is lost. And bare three-score is all that we can boast ; Our sons their fathers’ failing language see. And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be.” This view found wide and for a time almost universal acceptance. Dennis, the veteran critical campaigner, at- tacked it, to be sure, almost as soon as it appeared. But his hostility is only a proof of the favor with which it was received. In literary matters he was a born dis- senter. He belonged by nature to the opposition, and the cardinal principle upon which he acted was to find fault with any view that had met with general approval. He could not fail .to be at times right. In this instance he was so most certainly. But even the few who denied the doctrine of a constantly changing speech did not deny that change was characteristic of certain periods in the history of a speech, and this in the case of English included the period of Chau- 142 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY cer. They took the ground that when a language had reached the maturity of its perfection, then its authors might justly hope to live forever, or at least as long as it was maintained in the polished and purified state at which it had arrived. This is the point that was made by Welsted, one of the enemies to whom Pope has given a somewhat unsavory immortality. Yet Welsted, in controverting the view which has just been mentioned, bore witness to the fact that it was the one commonly accepted. “ The vulgar opinion,” he writes, “ therefore is a vulgar error, viz. : that our language will continue to go on from one refinement to another, and pass through perpetual variations and improvements till in time the English we now speak is become as obsolete and unintelligible as that of Chaucer, and so on, as long as we are a people. This is what one of our poets laid down some years ago as an undoubted maxim, ‘ And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be.’ But whoever the writer is, he certainly judged the mat- ter wrong : it is with languages as it is with animals, vegetables, and all other things ; they have their rise, their progress, their maturity, and their decay. It can- not indeed be guessed, in the infancy of a people, how many generations may pass ere their language comes to this last perfection ; this depends on unforeseen cir- cumstances and events ; but when once a tongue has acquired such a degree of excellence, it is not difficult to judge of it, and to see it ; though it is as impossible to declare how long it will continue in that purity as it was before to know when it would arrive to it. The CHANGE IN LANGUAGE 143 beauty of the Roman language began to fade soon after the subversion of the Commonwealth, and was owing to it, as the loss of their liberty made way for that in- undation of barbarous nations which afterwards overran them. The English language, perhaps, may never share the same fate from the same causes ; it may remain in its present lustre for many centuries, perhaps not de- cline from it, till the Divine Will shall think fit, if ever it think fit, to transplant the seats of learning from these to some other parts of the world.” * This was the conflicting view about our tongue that came in time to modify the anxiety of men about its future. Still, it was not the one generally taken. The idea contained in the extract given from the ‘ Essay on Criticism ’ was reproduced again and again, and with a confidence that proved that no doubt was entertained of its correctness. Bancks, one of the obscure versifiers of the time, drew from it the conclusion, which must have been to him specially comforting, that it was use- less to attempt to write well, since even what was best done must sink by change of language into the same forgetfulness as what was done worst. There could, accordingly, be no great incentive for the English writer to spend time and pains upon his productions. His case was similar to that of the man who holds his lands by lease, and who therefore never builds with half the care he would take if they were his to transmit to his descendants.’^ This melancholy forecast exhibits . Dissertation on the English Lan- edition of the works of Welsted guage, prefixed to the volume of (London, 1787). p. 123. Welsted’s poetry collected by him- ^ Poems on Several Occasions, by self in 1724. Reprinted in Nichols’s J. Bancks (London, n. d.), p. 114. 144 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY itself at times in ways that are unintentionally comic. Fenton, from whom a quotation has already been given, is now little known save as one of the assistants whom Pope employed in the translation of the Odyssey. But there were those who in his days looked upon him as a great poet. One of his admirers is a scholar who is now less heard of than even the man he admired. This was a clergyman named Walter Harte. He has, indeed, a certain claim to remembrance from the fact that he was a tutor to Lord Chesterfield’s son, and was the author of a biography of Gustavus Adolphus, which, certainly in its first edition, was harder to read than anything that Chaucer ever wrote. Like most of his contemporaries, he also tried his hand occasionally at verse. Among the pieces he composed was a poetical epistle to a young lady, accompanying a present of P'enton’s ‘Miscellanies.’ It concluded with the following lines, the last of which, seriously uttered as it was, reads almost like a travesty of the noted one already quoted from Pope : “ Not Chaucer’s beauties could survive the rage Of wasting envy and devouring age : One mingled heap of ruins now we see : Thus Chaucer is, and Fenton thus shall be.”^ This unlucky, not to say amazing, comparison was an escapade of the writer’s callow days, for he had only reached the age of eighteen when the piece containing it was published. But it is also to be remarked, in pass- ing, that it was not due to Harte’s ignorance of the early poet, whose works he spoke of as being a heap ^ Foems on Several Occasions, by Walter Harte (London, 1727), p. 98. CHANGE IN LANGUAGE 145 of ruins. Though a mere boy, he was nevertheless a scholar. According to the manner of his time he knew his Chaucer. Moreover, he admired him, though the lines that have just been quoted may not be thought to imply much appreciation. Still, whatever may be the value we attach to his praise, it was expressed strongly, and, there is no reason to doubt, sincerely. In the notes upon his translation of the sixth book of Sta- tius, he even speaks of Chaucer as “ perhaps the great- est poet among the moderns.”* This belief that the perpetual change of the English language was destined to ruin the reputation of all Eng- lish authors seems to have been an ever-present burden upon the hearts of many whose reputations were not in danger of being seriously affected by the fluctuations of any speech. But it was not confined to them. It was shared by the greatest as well as the meanest of writers. The men of that age, who thought upon the subject at all, had a very real and genuine anxiety about the future of our tongue. The greatest poet of its early period could not be understood. It was merely a ques- tion of time when the greatest living poet should, in his turn, become unintelligible. There was one way of escape from this disaster that presented itself to the more hopeful. A possible remedy existed, they felt, if it could only be successfully applied. This was a some- what mysterious process called ‘ fixing the language.’ The time for the application of that had finally come. The English speech had reached at last a state of perfection which it was hopeless to see surpassed. It was a mat- ^ Poems on Several Occasions, by Walter Harte (London, 1727), p. 189. III.— 10 146 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ter of supremest importance that it should be kept in this delectable condition. Its purity must be guarded from perils that would assail it from without, and from corruptions that were breeding within. Various were the methods suggested to bring about this desirable re- sult. The favorite dream was that of an academy which by the plenary authority conferred upon it, or assumed by it, should preserve to the speech the refinement and polish which in the process of the ages it had acquired. This is a proposition that still makes its appearance every few years, but in a rather faint-hearted, if not indeed in a sneaking, way ; but it was then advocated with almost passionate fervor by one of the most fa- mous of our writers. It was in 1712 that Swift ad- dressed to the Earl of Oxford his celebrated letter upon this subject. The avowed object of this pamphlet, as expressed upon its title-page, was to correct, improve, and ascertain the English tongue. It is instructive to compare his prophecies of what would be with the facts as they are. Every man, Swift said in the course of his letter, could hope to be read with pleasure for only a few years. After the interval of an age he could hardly be understood without an interpreter. If his lordship did not take care to settle the language, he could not promise him his memory would be preserved a hundred years further than by imperfect tradition. All the mel- ancholy forebodings of Waller about the prospects of a fluctuating tongue were repeated with emphasis by the despondent author. One measure there was which, if taken, promised possible relief. Success even with it was doubtful. Still, it was due to the country, due to CHANGE IN LANGUAGE 147 the position the earl held as minister of state, that he should see to it that it was fully and fairly tried. This consisted, essentially, in the establishment of a body of literary physicians to whom should be intrusted the preservation of the health of the speech. “If the Eng- lish tongue,” wrote Swift with the utmost solemnity, “ were once referred to a certain standard, perhaps there might be found ways to fix it forever ; or at least till we are invaded and made a conquest by some other state : and even then our best writings might probably be preserved with care, and grow into esteem, and the authors have a chance for immortality.” That there must be some sort of fallacy in these views is apparent to even the least judicious of the well- intentioned but ill-informed men who at the present day are in a perpetual state of distress about the future of the tongue they speak. The minister of state to whom this letter was addressed did not devise any means for settling the language. He probably did not see his way clear to effecting the object which his friend had at heart. Yet his memory is as well preserved as if he had spent days and nights in wrestling with the prob- lem which Swift presented and he left unsolved. Even though more than a century and a half has gone by since this prophecy of disaster came from the press, its dismal forebodings can be comprehended as easily now as on the very day they made their appearance. Dry- den and Pope and Swift still continue to be read ; and if Waller is not read as much as formerly, it is not be- cause his language presents any difficulty. For the fallacies into which Swift and his contem- 148 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY poraries fell there is a certain excuse which cannot be conceded to the noisier but far inferior mob of men who, during the last century, have devoted their unsolicited labors to the preservation of the English tongue in its purity. Nothing was then known of the causes which bring about the decay of speech, or of the circumstances under which it undergoes rapid alteration. We now see clearly that the history of language is and must be the history of changes. These changes often encounter at the outset violent reprobation, sometimes rightly, some- times wrongly. The purist may call them corruptions if he chooses, and he usually chooses to call them so. Fortunately the great world goes on unheeding, for it has a dim sense of what it needs, which is much better than the clearest sense of those who set up for its lin- guistic preceptors as to what it does not need. It more- ever sees that which the verbal critics fail invariably to see, that language does not grow corrupt of itself ; that only when the men who use it grow corrupt, only when they decline in taste, in knowledge, and in morals, does it begin to share in their degradation, and that no speech can ever be made what is called fixed till it has earned its title to that condition by becoming dead. This gen- eral principle, which unlearned men have always uncon- sciously acted on, is now recognized as true by scholars. But among the fallacies lurking in Swift’s pamphlet there is one that particularly concerns us here for the bearing it had upon the modernization of Chaucer, both in re- spect to its desirableness and its necessity. This is the idea that, the farther a language recedes from its sources, the more unlike are its forms to those which it had orig- CHANGE IN LANGUAGE 149 inally. It would follow as a consequence that, as be- tween any two periods, the farther apart they are in time, the farther apart they will be in their words and grammatical characteristics. Up to a certain point this may be true, and usually is true. But there is no inevi- table necessity that it should be true, and in the his- tory of cultivated tongues it is not true. In the case, indeed, of a language without a literature, the statement is perhaps almost invariably correct. The later the form, the less resemblance it is likely to have to its original. The movement of an uncultivated speech may, in fact, be fairly enough described in general terms as that of a straight line. But the formation of a literature of any sort checks at once this mode of progress. The creation of a great literature arrests it altogether. This is particu- larly true of modern times, in which the invention of printing has enabled the influence of the written speech to reach the widest possible number of persons. Lan- guage in such a case ceases to move in anything like a straight line. On the contrary, it revolves about its lit- erature. Its great authors are read and studied. They influence profoundly the expression as well as the minds of the men by whom they are admired. If through the caprice of taste the writers of any particular age become the favorites of any succeeding one, the speech of the latter period will tend more and more to approach that of the former. Let us apply this principle to the earliest of the great English poets. If the idea that underlay Swift’s letter be true, Chaucer should be more difficult to us than to the men of the eighteenth century. This is doubtless a 150 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY view still widely held. It has certainly found frequent expression. ‘‘ A very little trouble,” says Alexander Smith, in speaking of the poet, “ on the reader’s part in the reign of Queen Anne would have made him as in- telligible as Addison : a very little more in the reign of Queen Victoria will make him more intelligible than Mr. Browning.” ^ Misleading as is this assertion, it is safe to say that outside of a limited number of scholars it is one which would meet with assent, or at least would fail to meet with contradiction. Yet it is the exact reverse of the truth. Chaucer is not merely nearer to us in thought and feeling than to the men of the eighteenth century, he is much nearer in his language. The difficulty of un- derstanding him has steadily diminished, and will con- tinue to diminish instead of increasing. In the move- ment English speech is now making, it is going back to its earlier forms instead of away from them. This is es- pecially true of the poetic diction. What was difficult to the eighteenth century is often at present perfectly plain. The greater attention paid to the authors of the past has made their words and phrases and turns of ex- pression familiar. It would be impossible for a lover of literature to say now as did Charles James Fox, that Sur- rey was too old for him. We can readily infer from this one remark what must have been the general ignorance only a hundred years ago. Nor even was this idea of Archaic and unintelligible diction confined to writers as remote as Surrey and Spenser. It extended to Shak- speare. On more than one occasion Dryden spoke of the language of the dramatist, whom he profoundly admired. ^ Dreamthorp ^ p. 232. IGNORANCE OF EARLY ENGLISH 15 1 as obsolete and in places unintelligible. Gildon, in his ‘Art of Poetry,’ published in 1718, tells us also that he had found extracts from “ the inimitable Shakspeare rejected by some modern collectors for his obsolete language.” To show the injustice of such a charge, he brought together several pages of passages from that author. Examples like these are not solitary ones ; remarks like these are far from being singular. The manner in which the men of letters of the eighteenth century stum- bled at words and phrases which, even when not per- fectly plain, present but little difficulty, strikes the modern student not merely with surprise, but with amazement. Pope, in satirizing the antiquary Hearne in his third ‘ Dunciad,’ borrowed from Spenser the ex- pression ‘ mister wight.' This means ‘ manner of per- son.’ He carefully defined it in a note as ‘ uncouth mortal.’ Walpole furnishes a more marked example of the prevalent ignorance; for Walpole, while a dilet- tante student of antiquity, was still a student. He had met in Surrey’s description of Geraldine a line in which that poet had spoken of the beauty of his mistress as that “ of kind.” The word is of course the Old English equivalent of ‘ nature.’ In that sense it was in common use till the middle of the sixteenth century. Walpole, if he read with the slightest attention the authors he professed to read, could hardly have failed to meet with it in this signification scores of times, and to see at once that Surrey must have meant to describe Geraldine’s beauty as natural and not artificial. Yet it is -in this way he discusses the expression : “ I don’t know,” he 152 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY wrote to Sir Horace Mann, “what ‘of kind’ means, but to be sure it was something prodigiously expressive and gallant in those days by its being unintelligible now.”^ But the comparative nearness to Early English of the English of our day is most impressively shown by the explanations the poets of the eighteenth century felt called upon to give when they attempted to repro- duce archaic speech by what seemed to them archaic words. Their glossaries presuppose an absolute igno- rance of terms which are now common, or, even if un- common in ordinary speech, are distinctly recognized as belonging to the poetic dialect, and not demanding explanation for the readers of poets. Prior, in his ode to the queen, written in 1706, on the success of her majesty’s arms, undertook to imitate Spenser’s style. While avoiding most of his obsolete words, he retained some few of them, he informs us, in the hope of making the coloring look more like that of the author whom he had chosen as his model. The words which he care- fully defines, and begs the pardon of the ladies for in- troducing, are behest^ ‘command’; bajid, ^army’; prozv- ess, ‘ strength ’ ; I weet, ‘ I know ’ ; I ween, ‘ I think ’ ; whilom, ‘ heretofore ’ ; and two or three more of that kind. Gay, in his ‘Pastorals,’ published in 1712, was kind enough to add in notes explanations of some of the words his polished readers could not be expected to understand. Among these are the verbs don, doff, and ween, the nouns glen and dumps, the adjectives scant and deft, and the adverb erst. Towards the middle of the century, Gilbert West produced in imitation of Spen- Letter dated August 6, 1744. IGNORANCE OF EARLY ENGLISH 1 53 ser a canto on the ‘Abuse of Travelling.’ It contained the usual number of words that were felt to require defi- nition. Some of them, like those of his model, needed it a second time. One of the characters, for instance, is termed a paragon. This is explained as “ a rival, or one to compare with her.” Besides other not specially diffi- cult words found in the glossary to this short poem are the nouns guise, prowess, wight, behest, and caitiff, the verb wend, and the adjective meet in the sense of ‘ fit.’ Even a more striking illustration can be found in Thom- son’s ‘Castle of Indolence.’ This work was published in 1748, a short time before the author’s death. To the first edition was appended a page of explanation of “the obso- lete words used in this poem.” There were about fifty given with their significations. Of these two or three were obsolete in the sense that they never had any real existence. About half of the whole number which it was deemed necessary to define are now in established use ; and about one half of the remainder are in use in the dialect of poetry. It is doubtful if out of the whole list more than three or four would be thought now to require explanation. Examples of this sort could be multiplied almost in- definitely. Imitations of Spenser, such as was the ‘ Castle of Indolence,’ abounded in the eighteenth cen- tury. They usually carried with them a glossary. In many cases it was very necessary, for the words defined were not revivals of the past, but merely blundering creations of those who sought to reproduce its language. With the ignorance of the early speech then prevailing, and with the attempts made to pass the spurious coin- 154 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ages of ignorance as the legitimate linguistic currency of a former time, it is little wonder that the belief should arise that the tongue of Chaucer was something that could not be comprehended except at an enormous cost of time and pains. Yet his traditional repute was such that men who did not really care to know him wished, nevertheless, to know about him. As it was definitely settled in the minds of most that he could not be un- derstood in the form in which he wrote, it became in- cumbent to put him in some kind of shape in which he could be understood. This idea had formed the burden of several of the commendatory poems that had accom- panied Kinaston’s version of ‘ Troilus and Cressida.’ The success of that work, however, did not justify any great expectation of a literary revival for the poet by the method which had been there employed. No such demand had been aroused for the portion brought out as to render the publication of the remainder a duty to the public. Nor had the fond anticipation been justi- fied, that through this particular agency Chaucer’s fame would reach foreign lands. Latin was clearly not the medium by which the process of literary resurrection was to be accomplished. A way there was, however, which still remained to be tried. This was to turn the poet’s writings into the English of the time. Fortu- nately for its success, Dryden was the first to under- take the task.* After having received the sanction of ^ There may have been an earlier translated out of Chaucer's Old Eng- attempt. In booksellers’ catalogues lish into our no7o usual Language ; I have seen entered a book purport- but neither M'ith the volume itself ing to have been published in 1641 , nor with any account of it have I which is entitled Canterbury Tales, ever met. MODERNIZATION OF CHAUCER 1 55 his great name, it came to be regarded in the century that followed his death as the legitimate course to pursue. Still, the idea was not in itself new, nor was Chaucer certainly the poet to whom this particular process was originally applied. Spenser had been subjected to the same operation before Dryden took the matter in hand. In 1687, the first book of the ^ Fairy Queen’ had been brought out in an improved form by a writer who hid himself under the glittering general name of “ a per- son of quality.” ^ The work was called ‘ Spenser Re- divivus.’ The title-page gave notice that while the poet’s essential design had been preserved, his obsolete language and manner of verse had been totally laid aside. The main reason for the course adopted was stated with great decision by this person of quality. He complained that Spenser’s style was no less unintelligible than the obsoletest of the English or Saxon dialect. Ac- cordingly, he had chosen to present the poet to the politely judicious” as ‘‘he ought to have been, instead of what is to be found in the poet himself.” In this in- stance the attempt was a failure. The politely judicious did not apparently take much interest in this particular method of reviving Spenser, the poetry of the person who undertook the task evidently not being on a level with his quality. It was quite otherwise, however, with Chaucer. It became the accepted creed of the eighteenth century that his fame could not be preserved by the lines he had written himself, but by what others choose to make of them. It was an object steadily kept in view to replace his rugged verse by the polished and elegant ^ See Todd’s edition of Spenser 1805), vol. i., p. clxxix. 156 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY diction which, by common consent, was then flourishing with peculiar luxuriance. This was felt to be rendering the author himself a great service, and contributing in some degree to the advancement of knowledge. The work begun by Dryden speedily found imitators. A suc- cession of writers took up the task which he had left in- complete. Before the century had ended, the ‘ Canter- bury Tales’ had all been turned into modern English of a certain sort. To some extent other works of Chaucer had likewise been subjected to this process. In the case of these a consistent preference was steadily mani- fested for those which are now generally conceded to be spurious. These modernizations, as a whole, are anything but inspiriting. As it had been to a large extent the fashion to imitate Chaucer without reading him, it also became a fashion to modernize him without understanding him. Dryden is to be excepted from this charge. His ver- sions of the ancient poet take the first rank in order of merit as well as in order of time. No student of Chau- I cer at the present day would think, indeed, of placing them for a moment beside their originals. For that matter it is probable that no student of any day ever did so. But during the eighteenth century students of Chaucer were few. There is little question that it was then the general feeling that the poet’s fame had been distinctly benefited by having his ideas expressed in the language of the eighteenth century. In the eyes of most he was not only easier to read, he was far better to read in the modern version than in the original. This feeling was not confined to those who were disposed to deny PREFERENCE FOR THE MODERNIZATIONS 1 57 his merit. It was prevalent among the few who felt, or at least professed, for him peculiar admiration. Nor is there any reason to distrust their sincerity, even if we do their judgment. For instance, a little piece in praise of the poet can be found in the ‘ Gentleman’s Magazine ’ for 1740, under the signature of ‘ Astrophel.’ It cele- brates Chaucer in a way that must have sounded to the readers of that age like extravagant adulation. He was represented as having the strength and fire of Homer, the sweetness of Ovid, and the majesty of Sophocles. So true, we are told, is he to life, that w^ fairly seem to see the men of whom he speaks. Yet the composer of this fervent panegyric concludes with some lines which, if they do nothing more, certainly give the impression that the versions then current in the English of the time were fully equal to the original. In them he contrived to pay a double compliment : one to the early poet, and one to the living and the dead author who had asso- ciated their names with his. It was a distinguishing merit of the former that he had been the inspirer of the two latter, for, as the writer tells us, “Yet by famed modern hands new-minted o’er. His standard wit has oft enriched their store ; Whose Canterbury Tales could task impart For Pope and Dryden’s choice-refining art; And in their graceful polish let us view What wealth enriched the mind where first they drew.” Still, this feeling of the equality or superiority of these so-called translations was rarely due to any comparison of them with their originals. It was almost invariably the result of ignorance. The men who preferred the 158 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY modernizations preferred them because they knew little or nothing of the sources from which they had been taken. The lack of acquaintance could easily be for- given, were it not so constantly attended with preten- tious criticism. The elder Colman published in the ‘Ad- venturer ’ an essay containing a vision, in which he rep- resented all authors who had gained great fame as hav- ing been enjoined by Apollo to sacrifice those parts of their writings which had been preserved to their injury. Among the rest came Chaucer.. He, we are told, “ gave up his obscenity, and then delivered his works to Dry- den to clear them from the rubbish that encumbered them. Dryden executed his task with great address, and, as Addison says of Virgil in his Georgies, ‘ tossed about his dung with an air of gracefulness ; ’ he not only repaired the injuries of time, but threw in a thousand new graces.”^ When, in 1774, Warton had published the first volume of his ‘ History of English Poetry,’ the lack of enthusiasm he exhibited for these moderniza- tions excited attention. It was felt that the spirit of the antiquary was prevailing over that of the man of let- ters. “ I am sorry,” wrote Walpole to Mason, “ Mr. Warton has contracted such an affection for his mate- rials, that he seems almost to think that not only Pope but Dryden himself have added few beauties to Chau- cer.” “ At a still later period, and after Tyrwhitt had made the poet accessible even to the indolent, Walpole reiterated his former opinion. Mason had told him of a first edition of Chaucer which might be procured, if he ^ The Adventurer, No. 90, Sept. 15, 1753- 2 Letter dated April 7, 1774. PREFERENCE FOR THE MODERNIZATIONS 1 59 desired it, for a guinea. He declined the offer. ‘‘I am,” he wrote, “ though a Goth, so modern a Goth that I hate the black-letter, and I love Chaucer better in Dryden and Baskerville than in his own language and dress.” ^ In remarks like these just quoted there is something more than ignorance. There is really dishonesty. The preference expressed by Colman and Walpole for Chau- cer as he appears in Dryden’s version rather than as he appears in his own words implies that they were well acquainted with his works in both forms. In the case of neither was this true. Colman’s lack of familiarity is shown by the passage already cited. He took the un- necessary pains of exhibiting it still further in another essay in which he spoke of the light sometimes piercing through the very thickest of old Geoffrey’s woods.^ There is plenty of evidence that Walpole had only the most superficial acquaintance with the poet in his original form. The question of preference was therefore not set- tled in the minds of either by difference of taste, but by want of knowledge. Neither had any more right to sit in judgment upon the merits of the two than the man who can barely read Greek would upon the comparative merits of the ‘ Iliad ’ as Homer wrote it and as Pope translated it. Still, a certain traditional cant of the kind indicated lasted down to a late period. Malone, in his life of Dryden, spoke of the judicious retrenchments which that poet made in his modernizations of Chaucer, as well as the beautiful amplifications.^ Malone, to be ^ Letter dated Nov. 13, 1781. ® Malone’s Prose Works of Dry- 2 The Connoisseur, No. 125, June den (London, 1800), vol. i., part i., 17, 1756. p. 328. l6o CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY sure, is not a man whose opinions on poetry are to be taken very seriously. But a far greater name thah his can be cited in connection with the expression of opin- ions of this sort. Scott lent a half-hearted support to the view once so generally entertained. He even went so far as to declare that, in his version of the Knight’s tale, Dryden had “judiciously omitted and softened some degrading and some disgusting circumstances.” Furthermore, he thought that, while the modern poet fell something short of the early poet in simple descrip- tion and pathetic effect, he had improved upon him in the portion devoted to dialogue and to argumentative discussion.^ In particular, he spoke with enthusiasm of Dryden’s splendid description of the champions who came to assist at the tournament in the Knight’s tale, and of his account of the battle itself. He thought, if these passages could not be called improvements upon Chaucer, that they were so spirited a transfusion of his ideas into modern verse as almost to claim the merit of originality. This utterance of Scott’s, as contrasted with previous ones, marks the change that was slowly coming over the minds of men. The superiority of Dryden’s version to the original was stoutly maintained during the whole of the eighteenth century. It was a view that continued to last into the opening years of our own. Sporadic judg- ments of this kind even nowadays crop up occasionally, somewhat to the amazement, and a good deal to the amusement, of the present generation. We have not long ago been assured by an editor of Pope that Dry- * Scott’s Life of Dryden, p. 499. MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN den as compared with Chaucer has, upon the whole, “ narrated the tales in a higher strain of poetry, in richer and more felicitous language, and with the addition of many new and happy ideas.” ^ It is always interesting to stumble upon these survivals of the past. It is prob- ably well to have them as a counter-irritant. For there has unquestionably been a tendency of late to go to the other extreme, and to deny to Dryden’s version the merit it undoubtedly has. It is, in fact, now little read, save by the professed students of the literature of the end of the seventeenth century ; and it is doubtful if at this day these equal in number the students of the liter- ature of the end of the fourteenth. The result is that it has come to be a fashion to depreciate it, just as it was once a fashion to depreciate the original. As Dry- den used to be extolled above Chaucer by men who never read the latter, so he is now often underrated by men who read Chaucer, but do not read him. The man- ifestations of this ignorance are at times almost scandal- ous. “ Dryden and Pope,” wrote Alexander Smith, “ did not translate or modernize Chaucer — they committed assault and battery upon him. They turned his exqui- sitely naive humor into their own coarseness : they put doubles entendres into his mouth : they blurred his female faces — as a picture is blurred when the hand of a Van- dal is drawn over its yet wet color ; and they turned his natural descriptions into the natural descriptions of ‘Windsor Forest’ and the ‘ Fables.’ Whatever truth ' Works of Alexander Pope ^ edit- ^ Alexander Smith’s Dreamthorp, ed by the Rev. Whitwell Elwyn, vol. p. 232. i., p. 120. III. -II i62 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY there may be in this attack as regards Pope, it is utterly untrue as regards Dryden. There is no absolute neces- sity resting upon any one to write essays upon either of these poets ; but if he feels that it is something that must be done, it is not unreasonable to ask that he shall have the virtue to read what he sets out to criticise. / Dryden was not coarse in his modernizations. He in- ]} truded nothing offensive or impure. He scrupulously I refrained from pandering to the taste of an age which i would have welcomed with transport the grossest ren- j dering of a gross tale. If in his verses there is anything that remotely affronts delicacy, there is nothing that affronts decency ; and whatever violation of the former squeamishness may discover is due to his original and not to himself. Dryden’s version has played a most important part in the history of Chaucer’s reputation. It was for a long period the medium through which whatever knowl- edge existed of the early poet was communicated to large numbers. It deserves, therefore, a carefulness of consideration and a fulness of examination to which the work of his successors is not in the least degree enti- tled. Compared with them, his merits are simply su- preme. He was, in the first place, happy in the selec- tion of his pieces. He took the tale of the Knight, of the Nun’s Priest, and of the Wife of Bath. All three are representative specimens of different sides of Chau- cer’s genius. In no case, likewise, do they touch upon forbidden ground. But it was in the execution of his modernizations that his superiority over his successors is most noticeable. The work he set out to do was so MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 163 well done that it may justify to some extent the en- thusiasm of a generation which could hardly be said to know the original. It is, moreover, due to Dryden himself to say that, with all his consciousness of his own abilities, he would never have put forth in his own behalf the claim which his admirers made for him later, “ I seriously protest,” he wrote, that no man ever had, or can have, a greater veneration for Chaucer than myself.” Certain faults, indeed, he found with the early poet’s work, but there was no depreciatory tone in his criti- cism^y The principal blemishes he pointed out were that trivial things were often mingled with those of greater moment, and that occasionally, though rarely, there was a tendency to run into conceits. For these reasons, therefore, Dryden avowedly did not tie himself to a literal translation. “ I have often omitted,” he wrote, “ what I judged unnecessary, or not of dignity enough to appear in the company of better thoughts. I have presumed farther in some places, and added somewhat of my own where I thought my author was deficient, and had not given his thoughts their true lustr^ for want of words in the beginning of our language.” I By its very plan, therefore, Dryden’s modernization is only a loose paraphrase of the original. It professes to be no more- The two writers, therefore, subject themselves to comparison, both in their language and methods of treatment, almost as much as if they had written independent works upon the same theme. It is under this comparison that the later poet generally fails. At the same time, Dryden understood his author both in the spirit and in the sense. It is not often he 164 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY mistakes the meaning, though he sometimes deviates from it purposely. There are two or three instances in which he commits blunders. These may be palliated, even if they cannot be excused, on the ground of the difficulty that existed in those days of ascertaining the right signification. Perhaps the grossest error to be found in his version is in the rendering he gives of a line contained in the speech of Saturn in the Knight’s tale. Here the god is represented as declaring that superiority of wisdom, if not of strength, is accorded to age : “ Men may the old atren but not atrede,” i 59 C he says in the words of Chaucer ; that is, men may out- run the old, but not outwit them. The idea of this line is exhibited in the modernization in the following remarkable couplet : “ For this advantage age from youth has won, As not to be outridden though outrun.” It is to be presumed that Dryden attached some mean- ing to these words ; though precisely what it could have been may puzzle the reader to decide. Still, mistakes of this kind are very few, and the errors of detail are usually the errors of the printed editions. These some- times presented wrong readings or inferior readings. No blame, therefore, can fairly attach to the modernizer for not rejecting blunders which he had no means of de- tecting. It may be taken for granted that Chaucer was an author whom Dryden, so far as the means at his com- mand would permit, had studied with diligence and care. In the criticisms that have been made upon these MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 165 particular modernizations, it is the additions that have received the highest praise. Little has been said one way or another of the omissions. Scott, indeed, called attention to the failure to introduce in the Knight’s tale a striking passage in the portraiture of Mars, whose statue has its place in the temple built by Theseus upon the western gate of the lists. Chaucer described the god of war as standing erect in his chariot, arrayed in armor and fierce of aspect. To this description he added the following grim picture, which Dryden left out : “ A wolf there stood before him at his feet, With eyen red, and of a man he eat.” 1190. The propriety of omissions in a paraphrase like this is, however, largely a question of taste and judgment. It is by the alterations, and especially by the amplifica-_ tions, that the respective merits of the two poets can be best contrasted. For the additions Dryden assumed to himself special credit. His admirers have also been in the habit of pointing them out as signal improve- ments. Some idea of the expansion that took place may be gathered from the fact that the three tales of Chaucer which he translated number in all nearly thirty- three hundred lines ; in the modern version they num- ber about thirty-eight hundred.^ More than five hun- dred lines, consequently, have been added. As parts of the original were left untouched, this indicates, relative- ly, greater amplification than the mere figures given above imply. This expansion extends to lines, to pas- sages, and to ideas. It involves, and indeed invites, a ^ In precise numbers, 3284 and 3796 respectively. 1 66 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY comparison which, from the very nature of things, puts the modernizer at a disadvantage. Expansion in any sort of writing is rarely an improvement. It is almost impossible that it should be so when applied to the lan- guage of a great poet. Dilution of the thought is al- most certainly its invariable accompaniment. In the concentration which gives special force to some of Chau- cer’s lines, it was a vain expectation to rival him in the ‘ choice of words. Compression in the Knight’s tale in particular had been carried to the farthest extreme con- sistent with the highest literary effect. There is no other one of his pieces in which the early poet crowds so much into so little space. The story never halts, the interest never flags. It is little wonder, therefore, that Dryden suffers under the test of direct comparison. When we bring into contrast the corresponding pas- sages from the two authors, we see at once how strength has been diminished by the increase of words. It is nothing more than justice to the later poet to select lines and passages which show him at his best ; and in the extracts taken preference will generally be given to what, as independent work, would be deemed good, if not excellent. Let us take first the picture of the May morning as drawn by the two poets. Here is Chaucer’s description : “ The busy larke, messager^ of day, Salueth'^ in her song the morrow^ gray ; And fiery Phoebus riseth up so bright, That all the orient laugheth of the light. And with his streames dryeth in the greves^ The silver dropes hanging on the leaves.” 633-636. 1 Messenger. ^ Salutes. ® Morning. ^ Bushes, trees. MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 167 Dryden’s version runs as follows : “ The morning-lark, the messenger of day, Saluted in her song the morning gray ; And soon the sun arose with beams so bright, That all th’ horizon laughed to see the joyous sight ; He with his tepid rays the rose renews. And licks the dropping leaves and dries the dews.” This instance has been selected at the outset because the number of the lines is the same, and the rendering of the original is much closer than usual. A fairer idea of the difference in method and in expression of the two poets may be obtained in consequence from the comparison. But it is rarely the case that expansion does not occur to a greater or less extent. A careful examination of sin- gle lines and couplets will show how inevitably this has been followed in nearly every instance by a dilution of the thought. It is none the less marked because the lines in the modernization are often fine. The passage would be considered good, were not the original better. It is when we come to place the two side by side that we feel how constantly picturesqueness and force have been sacrificed to exigencies of ryme, to rhetorical embel- lishments, or to inferiority of conception. Chaucer says of Theseus, when about to begin his expedition against Thebes, “ His banner he displayeth and forth rode.” 108. In Dryden we are merely told that “He waved his royal banner in the wind.” This is not only weaker in force, but it is something worse. The main idea of the original line, itself essen- l68 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY tial to the completeness of the story, is hardly more than hinted at in the modernization. The summoning of the retainers by the display of the royal standard was the in- cident which the earlier poet had in mind and which the later poet missed almost entirely. Again, in the graphic account which Chaucer gives of the scenes on the morn- ing of the great tournament, there is among the details his picture of “ The foamy steedes on the golden bridle Gnawing.” 1649. In Dryden this appears expanded in the following coup- let, which is almost as good as the original : “The courser pawed the ground with restless feet, And snorting foamed and champed the golden bit.” It is rarely, however, that the modernizer is as success- ful as this. In the description of the scenes painted in the Temple of Mars the early poet mentions among the sights he beheld, “ There saw I first the dark imagining Of felony, and all the compassing.” 1138. The contrivance of crime, and the carrying of it into ex- ecution, is expanded by Dryden into the following trip- let, with personifications that are in sharp contrast with the directness and force of the original : “There saw I how the secret felon wrought. And Treason laboring in the traitor’s thought; And midwife Time the ripened plot to murder brought.” Far inferior to this in the description of these scenes of violence and bloodshed is the utter dilution of thought MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 169 in the tremendous line which with a single stroke paints the treacherous assassin — ■ ! “The smiler with the knife under the cloak.” 1141. The art of the poet has here left a picture which in its condensed force of suggestion has rendered hopeless the art of the pencil to rival. This vivid image, which stands / sharp and distinct before the mind and haunts the mem- ory, is Chaucer’s own. In Boccaccio there is only a faint suggestion of it in Dryden it evaporates into this fee- ble paraphrase : \ Next stood Hypocrisy with holy leer, Soft, smiling, and demurely looking down. But hid the dagger underneath the gown.” It is, in fine, the besetting fault of all these expansions that addition of details does not add to expressiveness or force. When Chaucer, in his description of Emetreus, King of Inde, says that “His voice was as a trumpe thundering,” 1316. the impression made upon the mind is dissipated instead of being deepened by the augmentation of ideas, involv- p ing an augmentation of words as well as their alteration for the worse, in the following couplet : “ Whene’er he spoke, his voice was heard around, Loud as a trumpet, with a silver sound.” But there is a further disadvantage under which Dry- den’s version labors as compared with its original. Chaucer has one quality in common with all writers of 1 Boccaccio has, “ E con gli occulti ferri i Tradimenti Vide, e le Insidie con giusta apparenza.” — Teseide, vii., 34. 170 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY greatest genius, especially with all those that belong to early periods. This is directness. He knew what he had to say, and he said it ; said it simply, though not rudely, nor so barely as to deny it at times the accom- paniment of beautiful imagery. But the accompaniment never tended to hide the main thought he Avas striving to express, or the main incident he was seeking to make prominent. He never indulged in ornament for the mere sake of ornament. His fine passages all have a purpose. Everything he introduces serves invariably to heighten the main effect. It never substitutes for it some other effect, no matter how good in itself. It never diverts the attention from the end in view. Consequently many of his finest passages are apt at first to escape the reader’s notice. He is carried along by his interest in the piece as a whole ; he fixes his eyes too closely upon the catastrophe to which the events are tending to think much of the beauty that lies beside the way. It is not till he goes back and studies the work in detail that he learns to see how noble many things are in themselves, as well as how skilfully they have been contrived to conduce to the general impression. It is in this respect that Dryden suffers by compari- son. He has made certain additions which, considered by themselves, would be deemed beautiful. For them he has received unstinted praise from his admirers. But in every instance they are fairly open to the criticism that they are out of place or out of character. They are not germane to the situation. Therefore, however good they may be in themselves, they are not good in art. They could never have found admission into the elder MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 171 poet’s work, not because he was not equal to their pro- duction, but because his very greatness as a poet pre- vented him from saying a fine thing merely because it was a fine thing. As an illustration of this statement I select two passages from the Knight’s tale, on which Dryden undoubtedly spent great labor. Of all the ad- ditions he made, these have, moreover, been generally re- garded as the most conspicuous improvements upon the original. In the first of these, Arcite is going into the woods to gather for himself a garland to celebrate the coming of May. He is represented by Chaucer as mak- ing one of those simple and natural utterances which illustrate the directness of the early poet, but which led the eighteenth century to call his lines homely — partly, indeed, because it did not understand how to read them, but mainly because it had a vicious preference for elabo- rateness of diction. These are the lines of the original: “ Loud he sang against the sunne sheen, ‘ May, with all thy flowers and thy green. Welcome be thou, well faire freshe May, I hope that I some greene gete may.’” 651-654. It is in lines such as follow that in Dryden’s version Arcite welcomes in the May : “For thee, sweet month, the groves green liveries wear: If not the first, the fairest of the year : For thee the Graces lead the dancing Hours, And Nature’s ready pencil paints the flowers : Why thy short reign is past, the feverish sun The sultry tropic fears, and moves more slowly on. So may thy tender blossoms fear no blight. Nor goats with venomed teeth thy tendrils bite. As thou shalt guide my wandering feet to find The fragrant greens I seek, my brows to bind.” 1/2 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY This addition, or expansion as it may be called, is a fine passage. Nor need fault be found with it because there is little to suggest it in the original. But it lacks sim- plicity, and it lacks still more naturalness. It is not the sort of speech which the character represented would have made at the time with the thoughts that were crowding in his mind and the feelings that were stirring his heart. But a far more conspicuous instance of the unsuita- bleness of Dryden’s most famous additions is in the prayer of Palemon to Venus. Chaucer begins it with absolute directness, begins it with precisely the same kind of address that one in real life, so situated and so believing, would have begun it. The following are his opening lines : “ Fairest of fair, O lady mine Venus, Daughter of Jove and spouse to Vulcanus, Thou gladder of the mount of Cithaeron !” 1363-1365. Dryden leaves out entirely the first line, and renders the second in this rather stilted phraseology — “Increase of Jove, companion of the sun” — in which, moreover, he puts the planet in the place of the goddess. But before introducing these lines in the petition at all, he represents Palemon not as making a prayer to Venus, but as singing a hymn in her honor. This is the passage, some of the ideas of which are bor- rowed from Lucretius : “Creator Venus, genial power of love. The bliss of men below and gods above. Beneath the sliding sun thou runnest thy race, Dost fairest shine and best become thy place. MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 173 For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear, The month reveals the spring and opens all the year. Thee, goddess, thee the storms of winter fly. Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky. And birds to lays of love their tuneful notes apply. For thee the lion loaths the taste of blood. And roaring hunts his female through the wood : For thee the bulls rebellow through the groves. And tempt the stream, and snuff their absent loves. Tis thine, whate’er is pleasant, good, or fair: All nature is thy province, life thy care." These fifteen lines added have a beauty" of their own, but they are out of place here. It is a petition that the story demands at this point, not a rhapsody. The words which Palemon is represented as uttering are not the words that any one who was very earnest in his prayer would have spent his time in making. The addition lacks fitness, and therefore fails in the requirements of the highest art. This same prayer, as it appears in the modernization, is also full of conceits for which con- temptible is scarcely too hard an epithet. Nor are these unknown to other portions of the various versions. Their appearance makes it difficult to understand what Dryden meant when he said that Chaucer occasionally, though rarely, displayed a tendency to fall into conceits. From them never was^any author more free. This is something that cannot be said of his modernizer. In describing the suffering of Arcite while parted from his mistress, his lack of sleep, his loathing of food, Dryden tells us that his hero could not weep because he did not eat. As he expresses it, “ Dry sorrow in his stupid eyes appears. For wanting nourishment, he wanted tears." 174 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY Chaucer, it hardly need be said, is not in the slightest de- gree responsible for this novel physiological statement. There is an even worse illustration in the following lines in which Arcite complains of his hopeless love: “ Fierce love has pierced me with his fiery dart, He fries within and hisses at my heart. Your eyes, fair Emily, my fate pursue; I suffer for the rest, I die for you. Of such a goddess no time leaves record. Who burned the temple where she was adored.” The conceit with which the passage closes has not even the merit of originality. It is borrowed from Ca- rew, and, with all its references to fire, is frigid enough for Cowley. This lack of simplicity, with its inevitable tendency to the use of fine language, is most perceptible in the ren- dering of the pathetic passages. It is in these that the early poet shows his supreme mastery of his art. He is never tame, and he never overdoes. The celebrated parting scene in which the dying Arcite bids adieu to the woman he has loved so long, and for whom he has lost his life, is remarkable in Chaucer for the perfect ap- propriateness of the words to the situation. Here are a few of the lines : “ Alas the w^o ! Alas the paines strong That I for you have suffered and so long ! Alas the death ! alas, mine Emily ! Alas, departing of our company! Alas, mine heartes queen ! alas, my wife ! Mine heartes lady, ender of my life ! What is this world ? what asken men to have ? Now with his love, now in his colde grave, MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 75 Alone, withouten any company. Farewell, my sweete foe, mine Emily; And softe take me in your armes twey. For love of God, and hearken what I say.” The effectiveness of these lines is, in a measure, marred by separation from the context. Yet the most careless reader will be struck by their absolute simplicity. They are the ejaculations of a dying man, natural to the occa- sion, and pathetic because of their naturalness. Instead of these broken words, which go to the heart because they come from the heart, Dryden has given us a most elaborate death-bed^discourse. It is nearly double the length of the original. It is unnatural in some of its thoughts, it is occasionally stilted in its language ; and it almost plunges into the region of bathos in the follow- ing couplet : “ This I may say, I only grieve to die Because I lose my charming Emily.” Besides the three tales which have been mentioned, Dryden made a version of ‘ The Flower and the Leaf.’ He turned its seven-line stanza into heroic couplets. This necessitated even a wider departure from the orig- inal than was required in the modernization of the other works in which the measure was essentially the same. He made also a certain change in the character of the piece by representing the scene portrayed as a fairy show, and the two companies of adherents of the flower and of the leaf as fairies who had once been clothed with human bodies, but were destined to wander in the shades of night till doomsday. For additions of senti- 176 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY merit in modernizations of this kind there can be given a sort of justification ; but addition or alteration of inci- dent is certainly unwarranted in what purports to be a translation. In this respect Dryden took great liberties, and his example was followed by his successors. Unau- thorized additions occur in various parts of these pieces. Interpolations of particulars, and even of incidents, are found, for which there was not a remote suggestion in his original. The grossest case of this kind is in his version of the Wife of Bath’s tale. This is essentially a fairy story. In Chaucer the heroine is a young and beautiful woman who has by unmentioned, but evidently malig- nant, agency been transformed into a foul, ill-favored crone. It is implied, though not asserted, that in this condition she must remain until some one can be pre- vailed upon to receive her as a bride with all her de- formity, and ignorant of the transformation that is to restore her to her true shape. It is for this end, there- fore, that she is laboring solely. But in Dryden’s ver- sion she is no mere passive sufferer from a wrong in- flicted by a malign and hostile influence possessed of preternatural power. She is herself a proficient in magic art. She has the infernal world at her command. When her offer is accepted by the knight, she spreads her man- tle on the ground, and transfers him with furious rapid- ity to King Arthur’s court, while his horse is also brought thither by some devil subject to her will. The alteration was objectionable because it was false to the original, false to the belief upon which the original was founded, and false to the central idea of the story. The beau- tiful woman of Chaucer, suffering from the influence of MODERNIZATIONS OF DRYDEN 1 77 malignant hate, becomes in Dryden a practitioner of the black art, leagued with the powers of the lower world, and sharing in the privileges with which subservience to their will is rewarded. One other piece contained in this volume remains to be noticed. This is the one called ‘ The Character of a Good Parson.’ It has often been spoken of as a mod- ernization of the character of the Parson in the general Prologue to the ‘Canterbury Tales.’ It is certain that such was the place it filled in the volumes of collected versions that were subsequently published. Still, this it was not, nor did it so pretend to be. The title-page prefixed to it sufficiently indicated its nature. That de- scribed it not as modernized from Chaucer, but as imi- tated from him and enlarged. Of the latter fact there can be no question. The forty lines of the original arel represented in the imitation by one hundred and forty. It was written at the instigation of Pepys, as we have seen, and the plain purport of its composition was to celebrate the nonjuring clergy who had given up place and profit rather than abandon their allegiance to the house of Stuart. Consequently, Chaucer’s words furnish little more than general hints for the portraiture of the character. Dryden, therefore, cannot justly be censured for failing to adhere faithfully to a description which he had purposely taken in order to introduce variations suitable to the occasion. Far more fault can rightfully be found with his use of these professed translations for the sake of intruding comments upon the political situation of his time, and excuses for the license of his own writ- ings. “The churles rebelling” of Chaucer — a pretty III.— 12 178 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY plain reference to Wat Tyler’s insurrection — becomes in Dryden the rebellion of the churls “ against the native prince and, lest there should be any doubt as to his allusion to the revolution of 1688, he adds, with no au- thority for it from his original, the further particulars of ‘‘bought senates” and “deserting troops.” In the Wife of Bath’s tale he even defended himself against Col- lier’s attack upon the immorality of his dramatic pro- ductions. There he pleaded as an excuse the evil influ- ence of a wicked monarch. He put in Chaucer’s mouth the following remarks about the stage, though Chaucer flourished at a period when the stage had no exist- ence : “ The king himself, to nuptial ties a slave, No bad example to his poets gave : And they not bad, but in a vicious age. Had not to please the prince debauched the stage.” But indeed, throughout these poems, Dryden was in many places intentionally unfaithful to his original. The sen- timents expressed were his sentiments, and not those of Chaucer. The ideas were frequently the ideas of the seventeenth century, and not of the fourteenth. I have taken pains to do justice to Dryden’s modern- ization by quoting some of its fine passages as well as some of its failures. The lines that have been cited, comparatively few as they are, make the essential differ- ences between the two writers sufficiently recognizable. After such a comparison there will be few found to deny that the later poet is inferior to the earlier, not only in felicity of diction, but in the knowledge of his art. The judgment that ever rated him superior was born of igno- MODERNIZATIONS OF POPE 179 ranee, not of critical insight. But it by no means follows because Dryden’s version was not equal to the original that it was a bad thing in itself. Yet this is an assertion now sometimes made. It is most unjust. Successive generations have borne the witness of time to its excel- lence as well as to its popularity. While this may not be absolutely binding upon modern opinion, it is suffi- cient to require that those who decry should at least take the trouble to read. Dryden’s modernizations, with all their admitted defects, are, in truth, noble-spirited poems. The gold of Chaucer has been transmuted into silver, it is true ; but silver is a precious metal, even if not so precious as gold. Much less praise can be awarded to Pope, who was the next in order to appear with attempts at modernization. In fact, scarcely any praise can be awarded to him at all. Little attention would ever have been paid to his ver- sions, had it not been for the fame he acquired by his other works. It was in the sixth volume of ‘ Tonson’s Miscellany’ that his first effort in this direction was pub- lished. The tale he selected was the Merchant’s, and the title he gave it was ‘ January and May.’ Though it came out in 1709, when Pope was but twenty-one years old, he professed that it had been written when he was but sixteen or seventeen years of age. The assertion has been questioned, but there is nothing in the execu- tion of the work to make the statement seem at all ex- traordinary in the case of a poet so unusually precocious as was he. There is, indeed, in the lines the same smooth- ness of versification he always displayed ; there is the same perfectly polished, if somewhat artificial, phraseol- l80 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ogy to which we are accustomed ; there is the anticipa- tion at least, if not quite the realization, of that same pointed expression which, as it came to be developed later, was to contribute so large a share to the small cur- rency of English quotation. The things that are lack- ing are not so much things of the intellect as of the spirit. We look in vain in these mechanically correct and carefully balanced lines for the absolute naturalness of the original, its exquisite ease, and the delicate humor which makes itself felt everywhere, and is not obtrusive anywhere. For it is the special characteristic of Pope’s modernizations that he puts in the very front what Chaucer purposely kept in the background. Where the one suggests or insinuates, the other asserts. Much, too, has been omitted, and the omissions are not in the nat- ure of improvements. Still less are the changes. Even the daring but delicious absurdity of transforming Pluto and Proserpine into the king and queen of faery, and put- ting in the mouths of the rulers of the gloomy under- world of heathen mythology a discussion upon the moral character of Solomon, this has been altered — judiciously altered, the judicious editors of Pope tell us. Nor even on the score of morality was there any gain, though claims to this effect have been constantly made. In fact, there was nothing that could be gained on that score, if the piece was to be translated at all. Certain words and phrases which would have been deemed spe- cially indecorous do not, indeed, appear; but the ideas and facts which suggest them are neither hidden nor veiled. Pope’s omissions, upon which stress has been laid, are due mainly to the fact that he omitted a great MODERNIZATIONS OF POPE deal of his original without any special reference to its moral quality. But his failure was far greater in the prologue to the Wife of Bath’s tale. His version of this appeared in 1714, in a poetical collection which was edited by Steele, and bore Tonson’s imprint upon its title-page. In this volume it occupied the first place. The prologue to the Wife of Bath’s tale is a great poem as it came from Chaucer’s hands. In certain respects it is not surpassed by anything he ever wrote. Pope’s version of it hardly rises at best above agreeable commonplace. It is shorter by the omission of nearly half the original. But there has a good deal more been left out than a number of lines. The humor, the wit, the keen observation of life, the undertone of melancholy which runs persistently through the rollicking utterance that characterizes this remarkable production — these are but faintly reflected in this paraphrase. The outspokenness of the original has been generally avoided or rather omitted. For it, however, there has been substituted a veiled coarseness and meretriciousness, intrinsically more disagreeable. What was merely incidental in the early poem became in its modernized version the one thing upon which the attention was supremely fixed. Pope, indeed, failed utterly to comprehend the character which Chaucer was drawing. In this he has had plenty of imitators, both in earlier and in later times. But their lack of compre- hension affects only themselves ; his affected the repu- tation of the poet and the character of the piece. The result was that he disfigured what he did not understand. The grossness which lay upon the surface he caught i 82 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY and reproduced. Of the deeper elements that go to make up one of the most marked characters in the whole range of creative fiction he had not the slightest conception. The Wife of Bath in his hands is simply a quick-witted, vulgar woman, who her whole life long has given full way to the indulgence of her passions, and cared for little else. The purely sensual side of her nature is all that is shown in the modernization. The poetical element is gone entirely. Nothing is seen of the half-sad and yet reckless abandon with which she reconciles herself to the approach of that future of joylessness which she recognizes that the inevitable hours are bringing ; nothing of the exultation with which she comforts herself with the thought that, come what will, she has had her day ; nothing of the attitude of mind of one who mourns her lost youth, not because years have brought sorrow for the sins she has com- mitted, but because the power of committing sin has passed away forever. No smoothness of versification, no prettiness of style, not even vigor of expression, could compensate in the slightest for the failure to realize and reproduce a character which is not that of an individual, but is a type. It can only be said of Pope that he did not comprehend it, and that it would not have lain in his power to recreate it, even had he comprehended. One other work of Pope is due to Chaucer. This is the ‘ Temple of Fame,’ which appeared in 1715. In an advertisement prefixed to the original edition, he said that the hint of the piece was taken from the ‘ House of Fame;’ and that while the design was in a manner altered, and the descriptions and particular thoughts MODERNIZATIONS OF POPE 183 his own, yet he could not suffer the work to be printed without this acknowledgment ; and that the reader who wished to compare his poem with Chaucer should begin with the third book of the corresponding production of the latter. The advertisement is a singular one. It would be almost sufficient evidence of itself to prove that Chaucer was little read at that period. For it was a good deal more than a hint that was taken from the early poem. To it the ‘Temple of Fame’ owed its plan and its whole action, besides most of the circumstances narrated. Long passages were modernized as closely as in the case of the pieces which he professedly trans- lated. Some of them are taken from the second book of Chaucer’s work, and not from the third. True it is that great variations exist, that new details are intro- duced, and old ones omitted ; but most of the modern poem could not have had an existence without the pre- vious existence of the earlier. Acquaintance with Chaucer’s writings, which was steadily, though slowly, increasing on the part of the educated public, seems to have led Pope in 1736 to subjoin the prominent par- allel passages, or to indicate precisely where they were to be found. He was apparently under the impression that this show of quotation would cause the delusive word ‘ hint ’ to be taken in another sense from that which it really means, and in which it was originally employed. At any rate, it has had this effect, whether intended or not, as any one can discover by reading the remarks of his editors. This imitation, if we do not choose to call it a mod- ernization, had a singular fate for Pope’s productions. CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY though not perhaps a very unusual one for those of some authors. It was very generally approved and very little read. That it was greatly superior to the ‘ House of Fame’ was assumed as a self-evident propo- sition by the men of the eighteenth century. “ The original vision of Chaucer,” wrote Dr. Johnson, “was never denied to be much improved.” He admitted, however, that the modern work was turned silently over, and seldom quoted or mentioned with either praise or blame. There are not too many at the present day who are familiar with the ‘ House of Fame.’ In the last century there were almost none. This may be thought to detract somewhat from the value of the universal judgment which, according to Johnson, de- clared the imitation an improvement upon the original. The recognition in a particular age of the superiority of a poem which few read over one which nobody reads at all can hardly be expected to weigh heavily in the opinion of the ages that follow, never inclined to be particularly deferential to the criticism of their prede- cessors, even when it is based upon the fullest knowl- edge. No one at this day, who has carefully studied both pieces, would think for a moment of placing the modern work on a level with the ancient. Let us, how- ever, be just in giving what testimony we can to the survival of this antiquated opinion. The poet Camp- bell looked upon the ‘Temple of Fame’ as superior to the ‘House of Fame.’^ In controverting Warton’s estimate of the two, he adduced several sage reasons ^ Specimens of the British Poets, by Thomas Campbell (London, 1819), vol. ii,, p. 18. LATER MODERNIZATION'S 1 85 for his belief. He found absurd and fantastic matter in Chaucer’s work, much of which had been judiciously omitted by his imitator. The philosophy of fame, he assures us, comes with much more propriety from the poet himself than from the beak of a talkative eagle. In Campbell’s words the expiring note of eighteenth- century criticism finds its final utterance. Pope’s versions had, in one respect, differed mate- rially from Dryden’s. Instead of expanding, he con- tracted. He threw out what, for any reason, failed to suit his taste or design, and his omissions were both numerous and important. A comparison of the length of the pieces makes this point very clear. The Mer- chant’s tale in Chaucer consists of eleven hundred and seventy-two lines ; in Pope it consists of eight hundred and twenty. The omissions in the prologue to the Wife of Bath’s tale are still greater. In the original, the piece consists of eight hundred and fifty-six lines ; in the modernization, of four hundred and thirty-nine. A small portion of it, in the form of dialogue, is perhaps necessarily discarded, and ought not to be counted in the comparison. These two methods of treating Chau- cer had each their followers among the men who con- tinued the work on these modernizations. Two or three of them were as faithful to the original as they knew how to be. The rest expanded or contracted at will. One side could plead in favor of its course the author- ity of Dryden ; the other that of Pope. With the work of these two great authors end the modernizations that have had any influence in spread- ing, even in a doubtful way, the reputation of Chaucer. 1 86 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY Now begins a series of versions which few probably read at any period, and which men of the present day are so far from reading that it is rarely that they know of their existence. A brief account of these dreary at- tempts, and of the time in which and the circumstances under which they appeared, will be sufficient to satiate the curiosity of the most exacting student of the poet. Let us continue with the ‘ Canterbury Tales.’ The next after Pope to attack any part of this work was the cele- brated actor Betterton. He had died in 1710, but had left behind him a version of the Reeve’s tale, and of most of the general Prologue. These were first published in the miscellany which Lintot brought out in 1712. Nei- ther the opening nor the conclusion of the Prologue was translated. Nor were the descriptions of all the characters it contained modernized. The Parson’s Bet- terton would naturally leave untouched, out of respect for Dryden, or out of dread of comparison. But he also neglected to include the characters of the Clerk of Oxford, of the Cook, and of the members of the guilds. The authorship of these versions, it may be said in passing, has sometimes been attributed to Pope, who was pretty certainly the editor of the miscellany in which they appeared. Fenton communicated some circumstances to Harte which convinced Harte that this was the case, and Harte communicated his convic- tion to Joseph Warton, who duly communicated it to the public in his edition of Pope.^ It had previously, however, been noted by Dr. Johnson, though apparently not much weight was given by him to the view. There is * Vol ii., p. 166. MODERNIZATIONS OF BETTERTON 1 8 / certainly no good ground for this opinion in the execution of the pieces. That Pope may to some extent have re- vised the lines is not impossible ; but their character precludes the idea that genius of any sort had anything to do with their composition. Betterton’s contribution to the modernization of Chaucer was not large. It is, however, large enough to make us aware that poetry suffered no loss by his hav- ing made acting a profession and not literature. But the names of the men who afterwards interested them- selves in the production of these versions are in some cases little known to fame in any department of human endeavor. It is not always an easy matter, accordingly, to discover with certainty precisely who they were. The interest that belongs to several of them is connected with bibliography rather than with biography or literary history. As regards the character of the work they did, its merits can be summed up in a few words. The ques- tion with all these versions is not whose is the best, but whose is the least bad. The men who composed them frequently failed to understand the author whom they set out to make the rest of the world understand. Still, their supreme failure consisted in what they wrote after they did understand. There was also great omission of per- tinent and great additio>n of impertinent details. But even if the sense were perfectly preserved, what was in- variably lost in the transfusion was the poetry. To em- ploy a word often used in those days, Chaucer was not so much translated as he was transmogrified. A cer- tain number, beginning with Betterton, followed Pope in omitting in their versions part of the original. A i88 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY plausible defence can be set up for this course, and un- der the circumstances it will by some be reckoned to their credit. It was the next best thing to not doing the work at all. In the same year in which Betterton’s posthumous work was published appeared a modernization of the Miller’s tale under the title of the ‘ Carpenter of Oxford.’ It was the work of Samuel Cobb, one of the instructors in Christ’s Hospital, London, and was dedicated to the dramatist Rowe. It adhered far more closely to its original than most of these versions. In fact, there is but little difference in the number of lines belonging to each. That is its principal merit. But the little volume in which it was contained has an interest of another sort quite independent of anything connected with what was furnished by Cobb. Appended to it were the two brief imitations of Chaucer by Prior, to which reference has already been made. They exhibit in a striking way the knowledge, or rather the lack of knowledge, of the period about the early poet. Prior was not content with merely making an effort to reproduce the language of a time he did not understand and the vein of an author whom he had not studied sufficiently to appreciate. He aimed to show his dexterity in a double way. Of one of his own imitations — that entitled ‘Susannah and the Two El- ders ’ — he added a version “ attempted,” as he expressed it, “ in the modern style.” To write a loose poem which was a spurious reproduction of the past was bad enough ; but it argued a singular lack of judgment to deprive it of its incomprehensibility, the only value it had, by set- ting it in later and better ryme. Literary history can OGLE'S SCHEME OF MODERNIZATION 189 afford no better specimen of an imitation in paste of pinchbeck jewelry. For many years after this nothing further was accom- plished in the modernization of Chaucer’s greatest work. Dr. Morell’s edition of the poet, so far as it was pub- lished, included only the Prologue and the Knight’s tale. To these he appended the versions of Dryden and Betterton. The parts of the Prologue which the latter had left untranslated were now modernized, so as to make the piece complete. The volume appeared first in 1737. It was not until four years later that a move- ment to put into modern English the whole of the ‘Can- terbury Tales’ was in part accomplished. It was the work of George Ogle. In 1739 he brought out aversion of the Clerk of Oxford’s tale. To it he prefixed a preface in the shape of a letter to a friend, in which he explained his design. In it he also gave a version of the por- tions of the general Prologue which had been omitted by Betterton. Ogle was an ardent admirer of Chaucer and an ardent believer in modernization — two things which in these later days strike men as essentially in- compatible. It was, he fancied, only by this method of translation that the greatness of the early poet could be fully made known and become generally recognized. “ I hold Mr. Dryden,” he wrote, “ to have been the first who put the merit of Chaucer into its full and true light by turning some of the Canterbury Tales into our language, as it is now refined, or rather as he himself refined it.” To one taking this ground modernization was necessarily a process that ought to be continued. The whole of the early poet’s greatest work should at all events be made 190 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY accessible to those who cared to read. It is rather a matter of inference than of direct evidence that Ogle set about making a complete version of the ‘ Canterbury Tales’ into the English of the time. It is certain that he did enough towards it to render that intention highly probable. He adopted, without any regard to their comparative merits, all work in the shape of moderniza- tion which had already been done by Dryden, Pope, Betterton, and Cobb. He naturally also included his own version of the Clerk of Oxford’s tale, and of por- tions of the general Prologue. With these as a start- ing-point, he seems to have felt himself in a position to attempt the conquest of the whole work. He called in the aid of others, and with their help three volumes of ‘The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer modernized by several hands’ were published by Ton- son in 1741. Besides the versions which have been already described, the following new ones were con- tributed to this undertaking. The spurious tale of Gamelin, which Urry’s edition had first contained, was modernized by Samuel Boyse ; so, also, was the Squire’s tale. The Man of Law’s tale was modernized by Henry Brooke, the Friar’s tale by Jeremiah Markland, and the Summoner’s tale by a Mr. Grosvenor. Ogle himself versified all the links between the eleven tales which were comprised in this edition. This included the un- finished fragment of the Cook’s tale. He did not, in- deed, confine himself to Chaucer. In order, apparently, to be spared the reproach of incompleteness in any par- ticular, he added to Boyse’s translation of the original a modernized version of the conclusion of the Squire’s tale TWO CLASSES OF MODERNIZATIONS I9I which Spenser had embodied in the fourth book of the ‘ Fairy Queen.’ The list here given embraces all the pieces that appear in the three volumes published in 1741. It is almost certain, however, that the deviser of the scheme did not purpose to stop at this point — that he had it in mind to go on and bring out a complete ver- sion of the ‘ Canterbury Tales.’ So far as he went. Ogle followed precisely the order of the poems in the folio editions of Chaucer. As in them the tale of the Nun’s Priest had not been reached when the first instalment was ready, Dryden’s version of it accordingly did not ap- pear in the volumes that were published. It was doubt- less reserved for its proper place in the volumes that were to follow. The modernizations of Chaucer in this edition divide themselves into two classes, which may be characterized as representing the school of Dryden and the school of Pope. To the latter belong the versions of Betterton and Grosvenor. To them may be added those of Cobb and Markland. But these last two were scholars, and the habits of the scholar clung to them. It was not in their nature to venture upon liberties with the text which mere men of letters had no hesitation in taking. They consequently adhered pretty closely to the origi- nal. They made faithful transcripts of the story, and kept as near to its spirit as could be done by men who had little real appreciation of Chaucer, and apparently very little of poetry. The other two, Betterton and Grosvenor, had abridged their material after the fashion set by Pope. This is only partially the case with the former, but it is to a marked degree true of the latter. 192 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY H is Summoner’s tale does not amount to more than one third of that piece as it is contained in Chaucer. It has, indeed, strictly no right to be called a moderniza- tion. Nor was it designed as such originally. It was borrowed by Ogle, not written expressly for his work as were most of the new versions. It first appeared in print in 1733, under the title of ‘ The Whimsical Legacy,’ as a contribution to Eustace Budgell’s periodical entitled ^The Bee, or Universal Weekly Pamphlet.’^ In that the writer is not only particular to term it an imitation, but he went on to add that “ it cannot properly be called a translation.” Omission or contraction, as has been intimated, was the general rule with these men when they did not keep close to the original. Outside of this they did their work honestly. If the result was commonplace and tedious, it was because the ability had been denied them to make it otherwise. They have the one merit of not pretend- ing to be more than they were. They introduced oc- casionally references which Chaucer could not have made because they were to events and practices that were unknown in his time. But for anachronisms like these they could shelter themselves under the authority of Dryden. On the other hand, the versions of Boyse, Brooke, and Ogle were of an ambitious character. Ex- pansion was the rule. Additions, to which Dryden had unhappily given the name of improvements, are the most characteristic marks of their work. All of them were gifted with an unusual ability for making a short story long, and an interesting one tedious. Two of these ^ No. xxiii., vol. ii., p. 1020. MODERNIZATIONS OF BOYSE AND BROOKE I93 poets still have remembrance of a vague kind among men. Boyse is one of the most notorious representa- tives of that literary proletariat of the last century whose members led generally a life of vagabondage and penury, diversified by occasional indulgences in degrading and cheap excesses, and who threatened at one time to de- velop into an organized band of scribbling Switzers, ready to sell their services to promote or assail any cause and to uphold or stab any reputation. He now owes the fact that he is remembered at all mainly to the praise which was bestowed upon one of his poems by Fielding in his great novel. Henry Brooke is a more distin- guished character in every way. He held in his own time no insignificant literary position. Though his plays and poems have now almost passed from memory, his ‘ Fool of Quality' continues yet to be printed pretty frequently and to be read occasionally. Between these three — Boyse, Brooke, and Ogle — there was seemingly a contest as to who should receive the palm for wordiness. A certain defence can be made for the one first named. In the account of him given in Cibber’s ‘ Lives of the Poets ’ ^ he is said to have received three- pence for every line he wrote of these versions. As he was always in needy and usually in necessitous circum- stances, he had accordingly every pecuniary if not per- sonal inducement to go on diluting his original to the utmost limit of wishi-washiness. The opportunity he certainly did not fail to improve. In the case of the Squire’s tale — the only genuine poem of Chaucer he modernized — the six hundred and sixty-two lines of the * Vol. V., p. 174. III.— 13 194 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY original are represented in his version by fourteen hun- dred and sixty. But comparison of numbers gives little conception of his unfaithfulness to his author or of the riot of language in which he indulged. The incidents of the story merely furnished him a pretext for discoursing upon anything and everything it entered into his head to say ; for introducing new sentiments, new facts, and new characters ; or for indulging in those sage moral re- flections to which men of loose lives and reckless con- duct are addicted, as if to make up for the viciousness of their behavior by the exemplariness of their views. All this might be pardoned on the ground that need knows no law, were it not for the fact that Boyse was proud of his work. It is manifest that in his own opinion he had quite outdone his original. Pie was unwilling to wait for the edition containing his version to appear. In Au- gust, 1740, he furnished to the ‘ Gentleman’s Magazine’ a specimen in advance of one of his additions, or, as he termed them, improvements. This consisted of the char- acter and speech of Cosroes the Mede. Chaucer fort- unately is not responsible for the creation of this person- age, nor for anything he is reported to have said. Boyse, however, was by no means singular in the ex- tent to which he enriched the original with a prodigality of verbiage. The projector of the scheme had, in fact, set him the example. Ogle’s version of the Clerk of Ox- ford’s tale extended to two thousand four hundred and twenty-six lines ; Chaucer had been enabled to write it in eleven hundred and fifty-six. Even this record was surpassed by Brooke. His version of the Man of Law’s tale is in parts a peculiarly impudent performance among CHARACTER OF THE MODERNIZATIONS I95 performances all of which are impudent. The thirty- five lines descriptive of the ills of poverty with which it opens are represented in his so-called modernization by one' hundred and sixty-eight. Of these it is safe to say that not one has anything but the remotest resemblance to what can be found in the original. The tale itself is proportionally not so bad. Its ten hundred and sixty- four lines are represented by sixteen hundred and forty- four. All these poems, it is to be added, were with one exception turned into heroic couplets, no matter in what measure originally composed. The seven-line stanza, a favorite one with Chaucer, was studiously avoided. The example had been set in the first place by Dryden in his modernization of ‘The Flower and the Leaf.’ It was faithfully followed, as was almost inevitable at a period when the rymed couplet had become the general favor- ite. The universality of its adoption makes exceedingly striking the one exception that can be found. The Squire’s tale had been written by Chaucer in heroic verse. Boyse, who seems to have been animated by the desire to have his modernization as little like the orig- inal as possible, substituted for this measure a ten-line stanza. Of the literary character of these versions some idea may be gathered from what has already been said. All of them, whether expansions or contractions of the orig- inal, subject themselves to one general criticism. The pieces may be of varying length, but they are of uni- form dulness. The dulness is of different kinds, to be sure, but it never fails to be the predominant character- istic. From this judgment attempts have sometimes 196 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY been made to exempt the modernizations of Boyse and Brooke, especially those of the former. One not familiar with eighteenth-century poetry will be struck at' first by a certain smoothness and glitter in the lines, and occa- sionally by a certain gorgeousness of diction. He may, in consequence, get the impression that these moderniza- tions have not received the full credit to which they are entitled ; that while they may not adequately represent Chaucer, they do exhibit poetical power of no inferior grade. But the artificial structure of the versification, the false splendor of the language, cease to impose upon the understanding as soon as they are found to be not even feats of ability, but to be mere tricks of art of which the poetaster of the time succeeded sometimes in getting the mastery as well as the poet. One general criticism can be passed on these versions. They undertook, in the first place, to do something that was not in itself desira- ble to do. Having undertaken it, they proceeded to do what they undertook in the most undesirable way. Wit and humor were crushed by the mass of irrelevant ver- biage under which the sense was loaded down. Pathos naturally vanished from sight. Its very life consists in simplicity of language ; and in place of simple language we had here a succession of orotund phrases. For pa- thos, consequently, was substituted a weak emotion which spent itself in rambling and loquacious speech. These ambitious versions were, indeed,* marked by two quali- ties which, though apparently opposite, are often found in conjunction. They were stilted and they were mean. I have said that by Dryden the gold of Chaucer had been turned into silver. The laborious alchemy of the MODERNIZATIONS OF LIPSCOMB I97 eighteenth century went still farther and turned it into lead. This elaborate attempt at modernizing the ‘ Canter- bury Tales’ was not then completed, whatever may have been the original intention. Ogle died in 1746. His project very likely had died before him. The publica- tion of these volumes probably did little harm to Chau- cer’s fame. Few read them; still fewer found them worth reading. Let us give, in consequence, the credit we can to the eighteenth century. For many years the reputa- tion of the poet rested secure from these assaults, which, however friendly in spirit, were injurious in their influ- ence, so far as they exerted any influence at all. In the meanwhile, knowledge of Chaucer had been making head- way. By more and more the discovery continued to be made that it was not a dififlcult matter to read his lines as he composed them himself. Yet the feeling that had inspired these previous attempts had by no means died out. It was still a belief on the part of a large number that the language in which he wrote was a dead lan- guage, or, as it now sometimes began to be put more mildly, a decaying language. To revive him by a mod- ernized version was looked upon by many as being in the nature of a sacred duty. Accordingly, late in the century a man came forward to take up and complete the unfinished work of Ogle. This was the Rev. Will- iam Lipscomb. It was in 1792, while he was rector of Westbury in Yorkshire, that he brought out a version of the Pardoner’s tale. It was the preliminary achieve- ment of the task he had set before himself. The rest followed in due time. In 1795 three volumes were pub- 198 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY lished which contained, with two exceptions, the pieces that had appeared in the edition of 1741, and the eleven additional tales of the original that were in verse. All the poetry of Chaucer’s principal work had now been turned into English, easy to understand if not easy to read. The modernization of these additional tales and of the links between them was done by Mr. Lipscomb alone. He also gave a version in current prose of the tale of Melibeus, but did not include the Parson’s tale on account, as he tells us, of its tediousness. This shows that he recognized abstractly the existence of such a quality, though he was quite unconscious of the signal example of it that was closest at hand. He threw out, moreover, the Miller’s and the Reeve’s tale because of their indelicacy. The retention of certain others he jus- tified on the ground that the indecorous passages in them were comparatively few ; and even these barriers to their general reception he humbly hoped had been wholly re- moved. This was true enough of his own versions ; but he printed those of Pope without variation. Like his predecessors, Lipscomb was animated by a noble desire to spread the knowledge of Chaucer among the men of a generation that knew him not. That this was the way to go about it he did not think to question. His attempting it at all proves his confidence in his own fitness for the task. He was a poet of the kind the eigh- teenth century spawned in profusion. He had obtained in 1772 one of the chancellor’s prizes at the University of Oxford for verses written on the beneficial influence of inoculation for small-pox. A success of this sort nat- urally leads to no exalted anticipation of what he would MODERNIZATIONS OF LIPSCOMB 199 accomplish when dealing with the works of a man of genius like Chaucer. Yet anticipation, however lowly, will be exceeded by the humility of the performance. One is not surprised to find his versions dull ; he is sur- prised to find them so very dull. Yet about his mod- ernization as a whole there is a mechanical uniformity, a decency of mediocrity, which makes it almost as diffi- cult to say anything harsh about it as to say anything in its favor. We can see how Boyse, Brooke, and the men of their time might have fancied that their versions were fine productions. It is hard to conceive how any emotion of any sort could have been raised by the dead level of Lipscomb’s achievement. He himself was as delightfully ignorant of the literature one would have supposed him to be specially familiar with as with the literature he , professed to know. It has already been mentioned that Dryden’s version of the Nun’s Priest’s tale was not included in Ogle’s edition. Lipscomb did not make the discovery that such a version existed at all until after he had produced his own. This fact he an- nounced in an apologetic note. It made little or no dif- ference; for readers he had none, save those whose busi- ness it was to review the work. These, it is fair to say, bestowed a good deal of commendation upon it. Ac- cording to them, a complete modernization of the ‘ Can- terbury Tales’ was something for which the world had long been waiting with eagerness. Its author was con- gratulated on having accomplished so satisfactorily what had been so earnestly desired. These were the opinions of the professional critics. The public, much wiser than they, never cared for this version in the slightest. It 200 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY was not a work that needed to be suppressed in the in- terest of the poet ; it suppressed itself. These were the successive steps by which the ^ Can- terbury Tales’ were turned into what was called the re- fined and classical language of the eighteenth century. It was not, however, the only work of Chaucer that was subjected to this polishing process. The ‘ House of Fame’ has already been mentioned as having been con- verted by Pope into the ‘ Temple of Fame.’ The change of title largely indicates the change of diction. It was, however, the works that are now generally conceded to be spurious that were the favorites for these specious at- tempts. The practice began with Dryden’s version of ‘ The Flower and the Leaf.’ The ‘ Complaint of the Black Knight’ was modernized in 1718 by the antiquary John Dart, and the ‘Court of Love’ by Alexander Stop- ford Catcott, who attained more prominence as a divine than as a poet, but not much prominence in either ca- pacity. His version was published at Oxford in 1717. The seven-line stanza was, according to the usual custom, turned by him into the heroic couplet. The original was also cut down more than one half. But scattered along during the eighteenth century, specimens of mod- ernization, usually on a limited scale, turn up with a fair degree of regularity. Walter Harte, already mentioned so often, put into the English of his time, under the heading ‘To my Soul,’ the short piece of Chaucer be- ginning ‘ Flee from the press.’ The character of the Parson as depicted in the general Prologue to the ‘ Can- terbury Tales’ was a favorite object of assault. It was a theme that inspired a number of so-called poets of the DICTION OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 201 ^ ' period. It furnished one of the two imitations attempt- ed by the Rev. William Dunkin, a bard brought into ! some notice by Chesterfield, who had a gift amounting . almost to genius in the discovery of bad writers.^ A paraphrase of this same passage in the Prologue can be found as late as 1800 in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine.’ ; But all through the eighteenth century the periodical ■ literature contains many poems purporting to owe their existence to Chaucer either in the way of imitation or of modernization. His name, indeed, was not unfre- : quently assumed when one wished to put forth some verses for which, for any reason, he did not care to take the personal responsibility. ! We can concede that the intention of all these ver- 1 sions was praiseworthy. Still the effect on the mind of reading them can hardly be termed exhilarating. Even had it been desirable to modernize Chaucer, the poetic s diction of the eighteenth century was the one least fitted as the vehicle of transferrence. We need not make it an , object of undistinguishing depreciation. It had certain marked merits of its own. It had, in particular, in the hands of its chief masters the impressiveness of subtle reminiscence of the great classic writers. But in reading it we feel that we are wandering in a land of phrases. We are talking a dialect which nobody ever spoke; we are using words that, even when they appeal to the intellect, rarely touch the heart. The curse of artificial phraseol- : ogy hangs over it all. Its dwellings are bowers, its labor- ers are swains, its women are nymphs. From this all- . pervading infection of fine language the possession of ~ ' See Dunkin’s Poems (London, 1774), vol. ii., p. 480. c 202 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY genius did not always enable the poet to escape. In- feriority of execution for one even so endowed was cer- tain if he chose to measure himself with a writer like Chaucer on his own ground. It was impossible to sing the Lord’s songs in a strange land. But something worse than inferiority was sure to befall the attempts of a man of ordinary ability to put into a diction always mounted upon stilts the words of the one English poet who is clos- est to nature, who always said directly what he meant, and who could not fall accidentally into a bit of fine writing without stopping to satirize him.self for the mischance. Any modernization of Chaucer in the poetic dialect of the eighteenth century was foredoomed to failure. But its inevitable unfaithfulness to the original, if men hon- estly tried to reproduce his poetry accurately, was ag- gravated in many cases by the fact that they did not try so to reproduce it ; that they took with it the grossest liberties and added or omitted incidents or ideas at their pleasure. The prevalence of a practice directly opposite that has shown itself in the present century is one of many indications of the altered attitude of mind that had come to be exhibited towards the poet. The feeling mani- fested itself somewhat early. It can be seen even in Lipscomb, whose versions are generally faithful if they are tedious. Adherence to the original became, in fact, one test of the value of these modernizations with those who supposed they had any value at all. It is here that the essential distinction exists between the practice of the eighteenth and of the nineteenth century. The former tried to get as far away from Chaucer’s language MODERNIZATIONS OF LORD THURLOW 203 as possible ; the latter tried to keep as near. It has taken a long while to discover that as regards the poet himself it is a matter of little moment what is the ex- tent of the distance which it is thought worth while to preserve. It is the credit of the modernizer that is af- fected by the course he adopts, and not that of the orig- inal author. All eighteenth-century versions of Chau- cer were failures. At best they gave a wrong concep- tion of his genius ; at worst they gave the impression that he was not possessed of genius at all. After the experience of the last hundred years we can safely go further and say that all versions are destined to be fail- ures. During the present century there have been nu- merous attempts at modernization, though fortunately some of them have never got beyond the stage of man- uscript. The work of three men in particular has gained a good deal of notoriety. Their versions are all that are necessary to be considered before giving an account of the last and most signal enterprise of all. These three are Lord Thurlow, the nephew of the famous chancellor ; Wordsworth, and Leigh Hunt. The first of these was a nobleman who cultivated poetry with more assiduity than success. His name will be found appended to a number of forgotten pieces, scattered up and down the pages of several forgotten magazines belonging to the first quarter of the present century. Short poems of his are also found occasionally in modern anthologies. He was smitten with a love of antiquity which showed itself in imitation of some of our older writers. It was in 1822 that he brought out a modernization of the Knight’s tale under the title of 204 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ‘ Arcita and Palemon.’ It appeared the same year in a second edition — which seems to have been due to the desire of the noble lord rather than of the public — and with it this time the modernization of ‘ The Flower and the Leaf.’ To most men it would have seemed some- what venturesome to bring out versions in direct com- petition with the most popular as well as the only poetic ones that had hitherto been made. But he who had no fear of Chaucer before his eyes was not likely to be seriously disturbed by the ghost of Dryden. Of all the nineteenth-century modernizations these of Thurlow stand in sharpest contrast to those of the eighteenth century. One characteristic all of the latter, however differing in other respects, possessed in common. The aim of those who produced them was to make the versi- fication smooth. The sense of the original was not a matter that gave them the chiefest concern. Their at- tention was directed largely to the sound. It might or might not mean anything ; but it was necessary that it should run glibly off the tongue. The second was that in the translation the’ exact language of Chaucer should be carefully avoided. This was a result guarded against so zealously that the makers of these versions apparently preferred to resort to the feeblest of paraphrases rather than retain perfectly intelligible and expressive lines in the form in which they came from the author. This was a feeling that animated all the translators who formed themselves upon the model of Dryden and Pope. They might, perhaps, admit that any change must be change for the worse ; but to alteration even for the worse they seemed to feel themselves driven by WHARTON’S MODERNIZATION 205 a sort of irresistible necessity. They occasionally let us know what pains they took to make a poetical expression unpoetical, or a vigorous one weak. As late as 1804, for example, a volume in imitation of Dryden was brought out by Richard Wharton under the title of ‘Fables.’^ It consisted of poems which were renderings into heroic verse of select parts of Dante, Berni, Chaucer, and Arios- to. The English poet is represented by a moderniza- tion of the Franklin’s tale. For the literary merit of the version, it is sufficient to observe that it is worthy of a place in Lipscomb. Still, it can be said for the writer that he knew a good thing when he saw it, though he did not know enough to adopt it. Jn_the opening of this tale Chaucer points out the impossibility of love continuing to exist where it is made to feel the con- straint of authority. His words are as follows: “ When mastery cometh, the God of Love anon Beateth his wings, and farewell ! he is gone !” 38. Wharton appreciated fully the original, and pointed out how forcibly the immediate effect of the exercise of au- thority is conveyed by the use of the passive ‘ is gone.’ One might therefore naturally suppose that he would have been glad to adopt the couplet exactly as it was written. His enthusiasm, however, did not lead him to take so extreme a step. It did induce him, as he tells us, “ to preserve as much of Chaucer’s line as was con- sistent with modern idiom.” What sacrifices consistency with modern idiom required may be gathered from these ^ Fables : consisting of Select Parts verse by Richard Wharton, Esq., from Dante, Berni, Chaucer, and M. P. (London, 1804). A riosto. Imitated in English heroic 2o6 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY following words, in which the extract just cited appears in his version : “ For love, if either strive to rule alone, Extends his wings, and farewell ! he is gone.” The example is worth quoting, as it gives a pretty clear conception of the sort of skimmed milk that was dished up to the eighteenth-century reader as a specimen of Chaucer’s poetry. In both these particulars Thurlow followed the oppo- site course. He aimed to make his versification irregu- lar, we might say rough. This he did, not because he lacked the ability to make it smooth, but because he fancied that by so doing he was giving it a likeness to the vigor and simplicity of the original. He was clearly a full believer in the theory that there was no regularity in Chaucer’s metre ; that his lines consisted of no defi- nite number of syllables ; and that he who sought to find exactness in them was looking for something that did not exist. In this matter he adopted from choice the view which his predecessors had adopted from igno- rance. It was consequently a natural inference from these doctrines that the ruggeder the versification the nearer it must be to what the eighteenth century called the homely strains of the original. Conviction can hardly fail to force itself upon the reader that Thurlow designedly made his verse as uneven as possible, while preserving a sort of rude metrical harmony. The lines are exceedingly irregular. Tried by strict rules, some of them err by deficiency, others by redundance. They can occasionally be found consisting of as many as four- CHARACTER OF THURLOW’S VERSIONS 20/ teen syllables. There is, besides, no uniformity of ac- cent ; there is, indeed, sedulous care manifested to avoid it. Perfect lines do occasionally occur. There are many such in Chaucer, even with the modern pronunciation. The result is that no one capable of reading can manage to mismetre them, no matter how perverse may be the theory that has got possession of his mind. As this particular modernizer followed his original pretty closely, he could not, therefore, help at times writing smooth and regular lines ; though he doubtless felt in every such instance that he was somehow deviating from the noble simplicity of the early poet. It is almost needless to say that Thurlow failed wo- fully. To be rugged is one thing, to be feeble is another ; to be both feeble and rugged is a distinction which it seems to have been reserved for him to achieve. His versions had the bad qualities that belong to dif- ferent bad styles. The affectation of being unaffected is, perhaps, more disagreeable than deliberate attempts to be grandiose. There is a literary hypocrisy in the former which cannot exist where men are openly striv- ing after the ornate. Thurlow suffered, too, from a lack of familiarity with the archaic diction which he tried at times to utilize. As a result, he contributed to the Eng- lish language some new words of which it has not yet felt the need, and transferred some of its old words to new parts of speech. He had, moreover, crude ideas as to what constituted simplicity. In particular, he had not learned that effectiveness of utterance can never be secured by a prodigal use of exclamations and exclama- tion-points. Not satisfied with Chaucer’s ‘alas!’ and 208 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ‘ welaway !’ he indulged in a profusion of ‘ ah’s !’ and ‘ O’s !’ and even in ‘ ha ! ha’s !’ uttered not in sport, but in the spirit of the war-horse in Job. The consequence is that these perpetual provocatives to emotion pall upon the mind. Accordingly, what at first promised to be entertaining, because it was ridiculous, feels the influence of the general atmosphere, and becomes noth- ing but dull. This criticism is much truer of the ren- dering of the Knight’s tale than of that of ‘ The Flower and the Leaf.’ There was an epic dignity_ about the former which was necessarily belittled by these painful strivings after simplicity which often approached silli- ness, and sometimes exhibited literary vulgarity. For there are places in which the version of Thurlow does not even creep ; it fairly crawls. The other versions to be considered were the work of two men — Wordsworth and Leigh Hunt — whose feel- ings towards Chaucer were almost reverential. This did not prevent them from repeating the old experiment, and adding their names to the list of failures. The ver- sions of Wordsworth were composed in i8oi, but none of them were published till many years after. The first one to be printed was the tale of the Prioress. This came out in 1820, in the volume containing the sonnets upon the river Duddon. In a prefatory note, Words- worth described the method according to which the modernization had been produced. He had allowed himself, he said, no further deviations from the original than were necessary for the fluent reading and instant understanding of the author. He retained, besides, the ancient accent in a few conjunctions such as also and MODERNIZATIONS OF WORDSWORTH 20g ahvciy, from a conviction that such sprinklings of an- tiquity would be admitted by persons of taste to have a graceful accordance with the subject. Wordsworth’s version is certainly very close to the original, the precise language of which it frequently adopts. The experiment is therefore all the more striking. The changes, slight as they are, are just suffi- cient to turn pathetic poetry into prosaic prose. The tale of the Prioress is by no means one that displays Chaucer’s power at its highest. But the strains of ten- d erne ss and of simplicity running through it are blended so artistically that alteration of any sort is inevitably for the worse. The intellectual shortcomings of Words- worth, the prosaic quality of his mind when not work- ing under the influence of high inspiration, and his in- capacity at such times to distinguish between simplicity and simpleness, unfitted him to be an interpreter of Chaucer, even were we to assume that Chaucer stood in need of an interpreter. Wayward and paradoxical as are many of Landor’s judgments, few that are familiar with the two poets will disagree with his dictum that Wordsworth could no more have written the ‘ Canterbury Tales’ than he could ‘Paradise Lost.’ His character- istics are fully displayed in his rendering of the tale of the Prioress. ' There is nothing in his version to indicate that a man of genius had anything whatever to do with its production. What he did could have been accom- plished as well by any one possessed of literary taste and of ordinary skill in versification. In this respect his work stands at an immense distance from that of Dryden ; for while the modernizations of the latter are III.— 14 210 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY inferior to the original, they have value of their own as independent poems. This is something that can never be said either of the versions of Wordsworth already mentioned or of those that will be mentioned farther on. Starting from an opposite quarter, he had arrived at the same point which was reached by the men of the eighteenth century who had devoted themselves to this same work. Nobody would now read his moderniza- tions with the idea of getting a conception of Chaucer. Nor are they of sufficient interest or merit to be read for themselves. Wordsworth also made a version of the Manciple’s tale which he never published, not because the original poem was indelicate, but because the subject was. As it turns upon the sufficiently well-worn topic of a man slaying his wife for her unfaithfulness, delicacy can be deemed in this instance to have fairly passed over into the region of prudery. There is, however, nothing to regret in his decision. As poems, his versions are in- ferior to those of Leigh Hunt, who deviates much far- ther from the language of the original, but in some re- spects remains more faithful to its spirit. It must be confessed that this is a result that could hardly have been expected beforehand. There is an occasional jaun- tiness, not to say friskiness, about Leigh Hunt’s style which is^grossly unsuited to the rendering of an author like Chaucer, who, in his most humorous passages, never forgets his dignity. But Hunt’s admiration for the early poet was tempered with awe. This was usually suffi- cient to put restraint upon his expression. He some- times, indeed — especially in his late version of the Par- MODERNIZATIONS OF LEIGH HUNT 2 II doner’s tale — resorts to tricks of speech, to slang, to com- parisons and illustrations which are utterly foreign to the quiet but elevated earnestness with which the story is told in the original. Still, they are not numerous enough to jar perceptibly upon the feelings. To some extent, too, they are counterbalanced by an ease and freedom of movement which reminds the reader remotely at least of the great original. The awe, sincerely felt by Hunt, was curiously exemplified in other ways be- sides that of mere expression. It was in 1823, in the periodical called ‘ The Liberal,’ that his first version of one of Chaucer’s productions appeared under the title of ‘ Cambus Khan.’ ^ This was the Squire’s tale, a poem which, partly because of its character, partly because of its unfinished state, seems always to have exercised a singular fascination over many men of letters. Boyse’s rendering of it had so little resemblance to the original that it could hardly be expected to satisfy even those who believed in modernization. Certainly as early as 1804 3 - 1 ^ entirely new version had been produced; and, though it never excited much attention, it was a fairly creditable production of the not very creditable kind to which it belonged.*^ It had the merit of being faith- ful. But a close rendering was not the project with which Hunt started out. He had the intention of using his knowledge of Eastern stories to complete, after a fashion of his own, the fragment that Chaucer had left. With this idea he finished the first canto, introducing ^ The Liberal^ Verse and Prose isterandRepositoryofFugitivePoe- fi'ojn the Sonth(LoxidoYi, tiy for 1804, It may have been 317. composed and even printed long It appeared in the Poetical Reg- before. 212 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY into it certain sentiments and incidents for which he himself was solely responsible. Then, as he confessed, his courage failed him. Frightened at his own audac- ity, he left half told his own rendering of the half-told tale, which still remains unapproached and unapproach- able, as it came from the hands of the great master. At a later period he modernized the Pardoner s tale under the title of ‘ Death and the Ruffians.’ When he repub- lished the two, he did it with a sort of apologetic pref- ace. He disclaimed the idea of having composed either of his versions as a substitute for the original. “ Never for an instant,” he said, ‘‘ did the preposterous idea of emulation enter my head.” He had written them in the hope that they might act as incitements to the study of the great author from whom they were taken. This is a delusion which has been an effective motive in the production of many of these versions. They could only be forgiven, indeed, on the ground that they exerted such an influence. . Yet even the charity which hopeth as well as endureth all things can hardly have persuaded itself that many were ever inspired to make the acquaintance of Chaucer in consequence of reading these modernizations. The practice, indeed, though doomed to death as soon as men had generally the ability to compare the transla- tion with the original, continued to be a favorite exer- cise of those who combined great theoretical apprecia- tion of Chaucer with limited knowledge of his language. More than one attempt of this kind has been made that has never been published. Others have not been so fort- unate in this respect. In ‘Blackwood’s Magazine ’ for NEW SCHEME OF MODERNIZATION 213 May, 1837, the Clerk’s tale is, for instance, again retold in heroic verse. It is one of those respectable pieces of poetic manufacture which reputable periodicals are reg- ularly in the habit of printing, but no one, unless under some special provocation, ever thinks of reading. This piece is anonymous, and it is neither bad enough nor good enough to excite curiosity as to the name of its author. The case is quite different with the more pre- tentious work that now comes up for consideration. This was nothing less than a renewal in the nineteenth cen- tury of the scheme to modernize Chaucer on a grand scale, that had failed so signally in the eighteenth. It is the last of these attempts, and for some reasons much the most interesting of all. Every one admitted at the time it was undertaken that no efforts of this kind in the past had succeeded. They neither conveyed the spirit of the poet to those who knew him, nor excited among those who knew him not the disposition to make his ac- quaintance. Yet the lesson of these repeated failures had not yet been learned. In 1841 — precisely one hun- dred years after Ogle’s version had appeared — was pub- lished at London a single volume entitled ‘ The Poems of Geoffrey Chaucer Modernized.’ This was the initial outcome of an elaborately devised scheme to bring the works of the early poet to the knowledge of all men through the agency of a version suited to their supposed capacity or incapacity. It was also the final outcome. This fact indicates that the project was not remarkable for its success. Still, it was remarkable for the character of the persons concerned in it. Among them were some of the most eminent men of letters then living. The 214 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY list of contributors to this one volume includes the two men — Wordsworth and Leigh Hunt — whose indepen- dent work in the same field has just been described. Be- sides these, Mrs. Browning, then Miss Barrett, was asso- ciated in the undertaking, as was also Lord Houghton, then Richard Monkton Milnes, though he seems to have furnished nothing. For the continuation, moreover, extensive arrange- ments had been planned. It was intended to ask the co-operation of Tennyson, Talfourd, Browning, Bulwer, Mr. and Mrs. Cowden Clarke, and Mary Howitt. Wheth- er a request to this effect was actually made to each and all of these persons, there are no means of ascertaining. Still, we are told that every man of letters who was in- vited to take part in the project consented cordially, with the single exception of Walter Savage Landor. He had seen the futility as well as the folly of the attempt the moment his attention had been called to it. As might be expected from his character, he had no hesita- tion in expressing his opinion with distinctness and en- ergy. To the first request he received to join in the enterprise he replied that “ as many people read Chau- cer as are fit to read him.” These were words suscepti- ble of a double meaning. They were naturally taken in the sense they were not intended. Landor, therefore, wrote another letter to set himself right, but character- istically exhibited in the same breath his admiration and affection for one poet and his dislike of another. Chau- cer, he remarked, was worth a score of Spensers. This was an opinion he was in the habit of expressing. The latter author he had never liked ; but his appreciation THE LAST OF THE MODERNIZATIONS 21 5 of the former had grown steadily with years. Earlier in life he had taken the ground that Chaucer was a passably good novelist, but hardly to be called a poet. Later he thought him a poet, “whose invention, variety, and spirit are equalled by Shakspeare and Milton only.” In this second letter, defining his position, he adhered unhesi- tatingly to his original opinion about the valuelessness of modernization. “ Pardon me,” he said, “ if I say I would rather see Chaucer quite alone, in the dew of his sunny morning, than with twenty clever gentlefolks about him, arranging his shoe-strings and buttoning his doublet. I like even his language. I will have no hand in breaking his dun but rich-painted glass to put in (if clearer) much thinner panes.” Views like these, however, were not the ones generally entertained. While the initial volume was going through the press, we are told in its Introduction that the project received demonstrations of the utmost sympathy from many high quarters at home and abroad. That persons possessing the cultivation and ability of those already mentioned were willing to go into an enterprise of this character is pretty conclusive proof of how little, after all, was really known of Chaucer. At any rate, that such men could seriously believe that the process in which they were engaged, or to which they had given their concurrence, was one by which he could be made better known and appreciated is assuredly satisfactory proof of how little they comprehended the conditions under which his fame or influence could be extended. Back of this scheme there was genuine admiration of the poet ; there was enthusiasm in the attempt ; the one 2I6 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY thing that was lacking was intelligence. This looks like a particularly hard saying to utter about a number of the most intelligent persons then living, some of whom possessed genius of their own as well as admiration for the genius of Chaucer. Yet there seems no escape from the conclusion. The intelligence they possessed was not the right sort of intelligence. It was not of the kind which could deal with the problem they set out to solve. A different kind of it, indeed, would have shown them that the problem was insoluble. Nor was it merely knowledge of the conditions that was lacking. In many instances, as we shall have occasion to see, it was knowl- edge of the meaning of the very language they undertook to explain. There is nothing that proves the greater familiarity with Chaucer that has come about during the past fifty years than the fact that nobody, occupy- ing the same relative literary position, could now say the things that were then said, or think the things that were then thought. The volume published was not limited to the ‘ Canter- bury Tales.’ The intention was to give as wide a view as possible of the many-sided character of Chaucer’s genius. The Introduction assures us, indeed, that none of his minor works had ever been made known to the public even in a paraphrase, with the single exception of ‘ The Flower and the Leaf,’ which Dryden had modern- ized. These latter were therefore to be fully repre- sented. Accordingly, of the thirteen pieces contained in the volume, six only were taken from the ‘ Canter- bury Tales.’ These were the general Prologue, with the exception of the last one hundred and seventy-eight THE LAST OF THE MODERNIZATIONS 2\J lines, and the Reeve’s and the Franklin’s tale, with their respective introductions, all of which were modernized by Richard Hengist Horne, who held the position of ed- itor ; the tale of the Manciple, of the Friar, and of the Squire — the last an entirely new and much more faithful version — by Leigh Hunt ; and the tale of Sir Thopas, with its prologue and part of its epilogue, by an anony- mous writer who shrouded himself under both ends of the alphabet as Z. A. Z. M-ore distinguished contributors appeared for the portions of the work not taken from the ‘ Canterbury Tales.’ Wordsworth sent a version of twenty-four stanzas from the fifth book of ‘Troilus and Cressida,’ and also of the doubtful poem of ‘The Cuckoo and the Nightingale.’ Horne tells us, moreover, that the rendering of ‘ The Flower and the Leaf,’ which is nomi- nally ascribed to Powell, was virtually Wordsworth’s, in consequence of the labor of revision and rewriting to which it was subjected at his hands. Miss Barrett mod- ernized ‘ Anelida and Arcite.’ The two remaining con- tributors — Thomas Powell and Robert Bell — were much less distinguished. They were a pair of versifiers who, so far as poetry was concerned, really belonged to the eighteenth century, but had somehow got into the nine- teenth. They would have been in their proper place contributing to Ogle’s edition of 1741. ‘The Flower and the Leaf ’ and the stories of Ariadne, Philomene, and Phyllis, in the ‘ Legend of Good Women,’ were mod- ernized by the former ; the ‘ Complaint of Mars ’ and the ‘ Complaint of Venus ’ by the latter. Besides this, there was an Introduction of about one hundred pages by the editor, and a life of Chaucer by Leonhard Schmitz, which 2I8 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY was particularly careful to retain every misstatement of fact that the craziest conjectures of previous biographers had succeeded in imposing upon the world as actual in- cidents in the career of the poet. The story of this undertaking has been told pretty fully by its editor.* Who was its original inspirer is not definitely known. Horne thought, but did not venture to assert positively, that it was set on foot by Words- worth. In this he was mistaken. Wordsworth, indeed, says that it originated in what he attempted with the tale of the Prioress ; but he was so far from making any pretense to having been the projector of the scheme that he wrote to a correspondent that he had no further con- nection with it than what consisted in giving it a present of his two contributions. The editorship, however, was offered to him in the first place. But he was too old, and he was too far away. Leigh Hunt, as the one next in seniority, was then proposed. There seems, indeed, to have been a vague impression that the older a man was, the better qualified he must necessarily be to read and interpret so old an author as Chaucer. But he also declined. In the meanwhile, several of the moderniza- tions had been sent to Wordsworth for examination, and one of these — a version of the Franklin’s tale made by Horne — had been spoken of by him as being “ as well done as any lover of Chaucer’s poetry need or can de- sire.” This astounding criticism decided the matter. It was settled that Horne should exercise editorial super- vision over the work which, to use his own words, was to ^ In Letters of Elizabeth Barrett temporaries (London, 1877), vol. i., Browning addressed to Richard Hen- p. 95 ft. gist Horne, with Comments upon Cojt- THE LAST OF THE MODERNIZATIONS 219 give to the world “ a true yet polnhed modernization of the Father of English Poetry.” In an evil hour, he tells us, he consented to undertake the task, little dreaming of the waste of time, annoyance, vexation, and mortifi- cation he was to bring upon himself ; little knowing, we should say, the folly of what he was attempting, and his own incompetence to do even poorly what it was impos- sible for any one to do well. Most of the versions in this volume kept very close to the words as well as to the general sense of the origi- nal. In some cases neither the language nor the ideas of Chaucer were preserved ; but this was not so much due to design as to incapacity. There was no attempt at expansion, and very little addition of new sentiments or new images, the so-called improvements of the eigh- teenth century. Nor was there a disposition to omit or to contract. Only such passages were discarded as were avowedly left out on the score of delicacy or of digres- sions that interfered with the progress of the story. In many places the very lines of the original were intro- duced. So far so good, it may be said. But to the inevitable consequence that any alteration would be alteration for the worse is to be added a frequent misun- derstanding of the meaning of words, which leads to the conclusion that the modernizers had in general a noble disdain of any aid that could have been received from so common a work as the glossary of Tyrwhitt. That editor, indeed, is mentioned but twice, and much of the information he brought to light was carefully ignored. It is interesting, in consequence, to read the conflict of views that took place between persons whose minds. 220 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY while filled with enthusiasm and admiration, were un- trammelled by any prejudices that sprang from exact knowledge. Horne has taken the pains to give us an idea of the character of the correspondence that was carried on, and in some instances has furnished us with its very words. In particular, he has preserved a speci- men of the printed proofs that passed between him and one of the contributors, with the remarks and corrections that were inscribed upon its margin. A veritable curi- osity of literature it was in his eyes ; and such it was, though not in the sense he understood it. He looked upon these comments and criticisms with a melancholy pride. A few of them he recorded, because they afford- ed some slight notion of the annoyance and trouble con- nected with the editorship, but more especially of the literary, philological, and archaeological contests that attended the production of the work. To him these contests showed the admirable earnestness of the trans- lators. To us they show rather their extraordinary ignorance of the poet’s language, and their utter uncon- sciousness of their ignorance. For a single illustration it is evident that the Gransoun, whom Chaucer in his ‘Complaint of Venus’ styled the flower of those who write poetry in France, was originally understood by Robert Bell to mean ‘ grandson,’ and had been so ren- dered. Misapprehensions of this sort were largely set right by the collective wisdom of the persons engaged in the undertaking while the volume was in course of preparation. This is something to be regretted. Had the ignorance of each been allowed to have its perfect work, the book would always have had a peculiar inter- THE LAST OF THE MODERNIZATIONS 221 est of its own, though not quite the sort of interest that the projectors of the scheme anticipated. There were, however, a sufficient number of inaccu- racies, to put it mildly, that were left undisturbed to gratify the longings of the most fault-finding of critics. The work from one end to the other was in truth a suc- cession of blunders. These were heralded by a piece of carelessness exhibited at the very beginning of the book. Wordsworth, in forwarding his contributions, had en- closed an extract from Drayton, celebrating the great- ness of Chaucer. This was printed in full on the title- page. It was, however, credited to him who had sent it instead of him who had written it. This, though an unlucky, was not an unnatural, mistake ; but it appro- priately led the way to a series of errors that could only have been made by ignorance that was unusually wide- reaching. In the number and variety of these, prece- dence, as is just, must be given to the editor. It is hard to say whether his own renderings or his criticism of the renderings of others is fuller of misunderstanding and mistake. With the opinions expressed in his Introduc- tion I have nothing to do. But there is hardly a state- ment of fact found in it that is not either itself wholly an error or characterized by some error of detail. Many of his assertions are what might be expected from one who, as late as 1877, in deploring Landor’s refusal to join this company of poetical adventurers, attributed the fact that Chaucer continued to be unread to “ the 'true but narrow devotion of the best men on the black- letter side, and their resistance to all attempts to melt the obsolete language and form it into modern moulds.” 222 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY Certain elementary facts Horne had never succeeded in mastering. It is plain from several of his remarks that all his life he seriously entertained the impression that black-letter was a period in the history of the Eng- lish tongue, instead of the name of a particular method of writing and printing the characters of the alphabet. His Introduction, after giving vent to the usual wail about how little Chaucer was read, announced as the remedy for this deplorable neglect of the poet that people must be given something of his to read which he did not write himself. This was the way to make him known and loved of all men. He went on then to fur- nish information as extraordinary as his opinions. Those who are best acquainted with how much has been ac- complished during the past twenty years in the elucida- tion of Chaucer are the most painfully aware of how much still remains to be accomplished. From this Introduc- tion they will learn, however, that, as long ago as 1841, everything had been done for his works in the collation of texts that could be desired ; that ample and erudite notes and glossaries had been furnished to explain his m.eaning ; that paraphrases of all sorts had been made ; that, in fact, everything had been done for him except to make him intelligible to the general reader. To verify this statement, Horne indulged in some criticisms upon the versions previously made. These, if they proved nothing else, made clear that to the special reader Chaucer was as unintelligible as he was to the general. His censures of others were, to be sure, just enough in themselves. They would have furnished little ground for exception if he had not made the mistake of fortify- THE LAST OF THE MODERNIZATIONS 223 ing his position by examples. He attacked Markland, for instance, because in his version of the Friar’s tale he had omitted one striking image. The early poet had pictured the restless curiosity of the Summoner in the following words : “ This Summoner, that was as full of jangles, As full of venom be these wariangles. And ever inquiring upon everything.” 109-111. The last line refers, of course, to the Summoner. It was understood by Mr. Horne to refer to the wariangle, a bird of uncertain identity, but sometimes defined as a woodpecker. The misconception is followed by this choice morsel of criticism. “ The idea,” he writes, “ thus presented to the imagination of the busy creature pass- ing from branch to branch, with his tapping inquiry and his curious prying bill, is certainly one of those wonder- fully happy thoughts seldom found in any other writer except Shakspeare.” The editor attributed Markland’s omission of this happy thought to indisposition on his part to take the trouble to study the passage. It was an aversion to labor which he could have imitated with advantage. It is by reading such criticisms as these that one learns to appreciate of what incalculable benefit laziness has been to the world. This is but one example of numerous mistakes that can be found scattered up and down the hundred pages of this Introduction. Even poor Lipscomb, who had carefully excluded on the ground of its immorality the very Reeve’s tale which Horne himself modernized, and who had toned down everything that he thought could offend taste, was soundly scored for his grossness and vulgarity. 224 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY It is, however, in his versions that Horne showed most strikingly his incapacity for understanding an author, knowledge of whom he was seeking to impart to others. There is more in this than the mere ignorance of the meanings of obsolete words or obsolete significations, which a consultation of Tyrwhitt’s glossary would have dispelled at once. His modernizations, especially that of the general Prologue, will often fill the mind of the reader with uneasy apprehensions as to whether he him- self has not, after all, made a mistake in supposing that he had become acquainted with his native tongue. I cite a few instances out of many to illustrate both points. In the description of the Prioress in the original, the state- ment is made that “it pained her” — that is, that ‘she took pains’ — to imitate the manners of the court. In the modernization the phrase just mentioned is interpreted in accordance with its present signification. We are in- formed that it gave her pain to imitate the manners of the court, thus completely falsifying the sense of the pas- sage. Chaucer, again, had said that in the spring-time palmers went to seek strange strands — a very natural thing to do. In Horne’s versions countries and sea- coasts are confounded, and we are told that palmers set out to wander through strange strands. Catel^ again, which in Chaucer means ‘ property,’ ‘ capital,’ and never ‘cattle,’ was rendered by Horne in several senses, not one of which was the true one. In one place it is trans- lated by ‘ harvest,’ in another by ‘ herd,’ and in still an- other by ‘ kine.’ The last occurs in the account given of the worldly means of the members of the guilds, men who were not likely to be largely interested in the breed THE LAST OF. THE MODERNIZATIONS 225 of domestic animals. These same persons, it is to be added, were represented in the original as clad in the livery of a great fraternity ; in the modernization they appear “ with a grave fraternity inspired,” whatever these words may signify. This misconception of meaning, or failure to express it, sometimes assumes an almost gro- tesque character. Chaucer, in referring to the straitened circumstances of the Clerk of Oxford, says : “ Full threadbare was his overest courtepy.” 290. The poverty of the original becomes destitution of a peculiarly painful sort in the modern version. A more limited supply of outer garments cannot well be imag- ined than is depicted in such a rendering as the follow- ing: “His uppermost short cloak was a bare thread.’’ I have singled out Horne for comment partly because he was the editor of the volume, partly because, as histo- rian of the undertaking — so far as it had a history — he remained to the last a firm believer in this method of extending the knowledge and reputation of Chaucer. A few years before his death he contributed to a Lon- don magazine^ a modernized version of the poet’s bal- lade entitled the ‘ Complaint to his Purse,’ and of the famous description of the Temple of Mars contained in the Knight’s tale. The former is not of sufficient merit to suffer much harm from any rendering. Still, it is in- teresting to notice that in each one of its three verses Horne succeeded in grossly misunderstanding, or at least in misinterpreting, the sense. The second mod- III.— 15 ^ Temple Bar for March and October, 1878. 226 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ernization, like Wordsworth’s version of the tale of the Prioress, is only of value for the illustration it furnishes of the slightness of the change required in order to re- duce the highest poetry to the level of commonplace. It is well to make clear that ignorance of the poet’s lan- guage, which had been at the foundation of these at- tempts in the eighteenth century, continued still to be their predominating characteristic in the nineteenth. For Horne was not solely responsible for his own ren- derings which are found in this volume. His version of the Prologue, full as it was of gross blunders, was read in proof by both Miss Barrett and Leigh Hunt, and was declared by Wordsworth to be well done. In criticising the skill displayed in it, we get a fair concep- tion of the degree of knowledge that was brought to bear upon this enterprise. It will fully justify the ap- parently harsh criticism that was made some pages pre- vious, that it was not enthusiasm that was lacking in the undertaking, but intelligence. Nor was this all. The license of versification in which the miodernizers indulged themselves was frequently of a kind that the poet of a so-called barbarous age would never have tol- erated for a moment. Leigh Hunt, in fact, protested vainly against such rymes as arcJi and porch^ blood and mad, which Horne used and defended. The latter had no difficulty in showing that the former was guilty of atrocities of his own. Yet the worst case of license to be found in the volume was the work of a person of greater genius than either of the two. Chaucer, in the opening of the poem of ‘ Anelida and Arcite,’ tells us that he takes the story from the Latin, and THE LAST OF THE MODERNIZATIONS 22/ in the following lines invokes the muse of lyric poetry, that “ Singest with voice memorial in the shade, Under the laurer^ which that may not fade, And do^ that I my ship to haven win. First follow I Stace, and after him Corinne.” The last two lines were thus rendered by Miss Barrett : “ Now grant my ship that some smooth haven win her, I follow Statius first, and then Corinna.” A ryme of this kind sets the teeth on edge of an ad-^ mirer of Chaucer. What would have been its effect • upon Chaucer himself ? There is no question that the projectors of this mod- ernization planned it, as they declared, in all sincerity an d reverent admiration. They themselves were satis- fied with the way it had been done. They fancied that on the whole they had accomplished worthily a noble task. Wordsworth, indeed, had not been altogether pleased with some things that had characterized the undertaking. He had protested at the outset against admitting anything that savored of coarseness and in- delicacy. For this reason he had not been willing to place his version of the Manciple’s tale at the disposal of the editor. It was not itself offensive, but it trenched upon dangerous ground. He was particularly annoyed by the fact that the Reeve’s tale was included. This he felt to be something intolerable. Whatever may be thought of his view upon this point, no one can deny the correctness of his opinion that Horge, by the neces- ^ I.aurel. ^ Cause. 228 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY sity he lay under of softening down the incidents, had killed the spirit and special humor of the original. Still, in spite of the things to which he took exception, he did not v/ithhold his approbation. “ So great,” he wrote, ‘‘ is my admiration of Chaucer’s genius, and so profound my reverence for him as an instrument in the hands of Prov- idence for spreading the light of literature through his native land, that notwithstanding the defects and faults in this publication, I am glad of it as a means for mak- ing many acquainted with the original who would other- wise be ignorant of everything about him but his name.” Miss Barrett was far more enthusiastic. She anticipat- ed the judgment of the public with confidence. “If people,” she wrote, “ are not (say what they please) de- lighted with this volume, this breathing of sweet souths over the bank of deathless violets, there can be no room for delight in their souls.” There was this justification for these feelings, that had such a work been produced a hundred years earlier by a band of writers nearly all of them possessed of reputation and several of them possessed of genius, it would have been hailed with acclamation as a positive contribution to English literature, and as a positive im- provement upon the original. Bfit this was the middle of the nineteenth century, and not of the eighteenth. During the time that had gone by, men had been run- ning to and fro, and knowledge had been increased. The coolness, not to call it contempt, with which this volume was received was one of the healthiest signs of the genuine interest that had begun to be taken in the poet, and the genuine advance in appreciation of him THE LAST OF THE MODERNIZATIONS 229 that had been made. There were plenty of men to point out the blunders that had been committed, the misapprehensions of meaning that abounded, and the general feebleness and occasional inanity with which the meaning, when understood, had been expressed. There was, indeed, a manifestation of feeling almost in the nat- ure of resentment exhibited at the treatment to which the poet had been subjected. The admirers of the book were mainly limited to its contributors. The second volume, which had been projected, seems never even to have been begun. 230 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY III. ^ ^HE account given in the preceding section of the imitations and modernizations of Chaucer’s works has been a long one. Were it not for the light they cast upon the views entertained about the poet at dif- ferent periods, they could hardly be thought to deserve the attention and space they have received, in spite of the many famous names that have been connected with their production. There is nothing more singular about their history than the tenacity with which those con- cerned in these renderings have clung to the belief that by their versions they were doing a service to the mem- ory of Chaucer. To some extent they doubtless made him better known. But it was rarely, if ever, in a way to be admired. Even the best of these modernizations had no enduring vitality as compared with the original. Their own lease of life expired with the taste of the age that begot them — a taste which preferred the ‘ Henry and Emma’ of Prior to the ballad of the ‘ Nut-Brown Maid.’ It was not by illegitimate methods of this kind that interest ^n the writings of the poet was to be re- vived. That could only be the result of the study of his works as he wrote them, and not as some one else rewrote them. The eighteenth century shows in this matter a decided advance over the seventeenth. It can INFLUENCE OF DRYDEN 231 be seen not only in the increased number of editions, but in critical estimates that were not in every case mere echoes of the past, but independent exercises of mental activity. There was then, to be sure, far more outspoken depreciation of the early poet than in the century preceding ; but this was largely due to the fact that there was fuller appreciation. Chaucer was gradu- ally becoming something more than a name. Hence his pretensions were scrutinized with a caution and at- tacked with a severity they would never have met with had he still continued to be nominally admired without being read at all. Much of this increased interest was undoubtedly due to Dryden. So great was his critical authority, espe- cially with the generation that succeeded him, that few were disposed to. deny outright any dictum of his, how- ever much it might disagree with their own opinions. The praise which he had bestowed upon Chaucer in the preface to the ‘Fables’ was reinforced in the poetical dedication of the Knight’s tale to the Duchess of Or- mond, with which the verse contained in the volume opened. In the first paragraph he put the English au- thor by the side of Homer and Virgil in the following lines : “ The bard who first adorned our native tongue Tuned to his British lyre this ancient song: Which Homer might without a blush rehearse, And leaves a doubtful palm in Virgil’s verse : He matched their beauties where they most excel ; Of love sung better, and of arms as well.” If we can trust Dryden’s words, as already quoted, his 232 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY preference of Chaucer to Ovid would irritate the com- mon judgment. We can therefore imagine the state of mind in which the learned world would be thrown by his placing the early poet on a level with Homer and Virgil. As a general rule, they bore with it patiently. His praise was looked upon in the light of a rhetorical exaggeration, and no more to be taken seriously than his belief in the existence in any given case of the abili- ties and virtues with which he liberally endowed the men to whom he dedicated his works. The view that came to be generally entertained of the reason that led him to commend Chaucer was formulated by Joseph Trapp in the course of lectures he delivered as professor of poetry in the University of Oxford. This was to the effect that Dryden was in the habit of giving utterance to critical opinions which were designed to help forward the particular undertaking that he had in hand. The pro- ceeding is not so unusual on the part of writers generally as to render it necessary to make such conduct in his case the subject of special animadversion. This weighty judgment had, however, the fortune to be adopted by Dr. Johnson, and to be repeated by Walter Scott. It hence attained a vogue to which it was not entitled either by its own merits or by the merits of its orig- inator. Trapp was the author of some of the stupidest occasional verses that can be found in the stupidest mis- cellanies that were brought out in the early part of the eighteenth century. His main distinction, however, con- sists in having turned into some of the worst English in the world some of the world’s greatest poetry. We need not wonder that this representative of a narrow and pe- INFLUENCE OF DRYDEN 233 dantic culture, which dubbed itself liberal, should have been struck with a feeling akin to horror at Dryden’s ardent expressions of admiration for an author whom he himself neither knew about nor wanted to know about, nor could have appreciated if he had known about, or that he should have felt called upon in the line of duty to rebuke the foremost man of letters of the for- mer generation for the profanation of criticism which his comparison of the English poet to Homer and Virgil in- volved. The respect paid at that time to Dryden’s authority was too great, however, to be overborne by the united heaviness of all the pedants of the age. Men would naturally be affected by his lofty estimate of any author, even though they might look upon his praise as grossly exaggerated. The imitations and modernizations which have already been recounted are of themselves ample evidence of the influence he exerted in this particular instance. The attention that was paid to the early poet may have been to a large extent a fashion. It may have had little root in genuine knowledge, and therefore in genuine appreciation. Certainly its tone is often not so much that of admiration for Chaucer as of admiration of itself for condescending to concern itself with the. gar- rulous, childlike, simple-hearted versifier of a barbarous age. Still, there was familiarity, even if it was not in- telligent familiarity. The references to the poet often indicate, indeed, that more interest attached to his name than to anything he wrote. With most men of letters knowledge of his productions was apparently limited to the ‘Canterbury Tales;’ though, besides the instances 234 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY mentioned already, Prior, in his poem of ‘The Turtle and Sparrow,’ makes an allusion to the ‘ Parliament of Fowls.’ One singular exhibition of this revived interest about Chaucer, though rather about the man than the poet, can be found in a dramatic production based to some extent upon passages contained in his greatest work. This was a comedy written by Gay, and entitled ‘ The Wife of Bath.’ In it, on its original representation, Chaucer was the principal hero. The piece was brought out at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane in May, 1713, and ran about three nights. The little success it met was full as much as it deserved. It was a play of a thorough- ly vulgar character, whether looked at from the moral or the literary point of view. The heroine, whom the poet is represented as winning by working upon her super- stitious beliefs, is too great a fool to- be endured even among the numberless inanities that crowd the realm of fiction. This comedy, rewritten and a good deal altered, was revived at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields in January, 1730, but met with the same fate as on its orig- inal appearance. The critical estimate given by Pope shows, however, keen appreciation. He was in a sense true to the judg- ment of his great predecessor, and expressed his admira- tion as unreservedly as he, if not quite so heartily. He is represented by Spence as declaring that he read Chau- cer with as much pleasure as almost any other English poet. “He is,” he said, “a master of manners, of de- scription, and the first tale-teller in the tongue in the true enlivened natural way.” There is no reason to doubt the sincerity of this utterance any more than POPE ON CHAUCER 235 there is to deny its acumen. Yet in one of the most highly finished of Pope’s productions there occurs a line which might fairly seem to imply that he almost resent- ed the attention which the father of English poetry was beginning to receive. The work to which reference is made is the ‘ Imitation,’ that appeared in 1737, of the epistle that Horace addressed to Augustus Caesar. It is itself a review of English literature from the standpoint of the former half of the eighteenth century. It ex- presses clearly and forcibly the critical estimates of the school of which the writer was the great representative as well as exponent. In this brilliant piece, Pope, follow- ing his model, inveighs — to our eyes somewhat unneces- sarily — against the disposition, which he asserts or as- sumes to be prevalent, to depreciate the worth of living writers, and to exalt the reputation of the dead at their expense. ‘‘ Chaucer’s worst ribaldry,” he instanced, “ is learned by rote.” If Chaucer wrote ribaldry at all, the remark came with a peculiarly ill grace from one who had dragged a portion of it from an obscurity in which it was known mainly to scholars, and made it accessible to all in a modernized version. It is hardly necessary to say that there is no justification for the hostile criti- cism either in the character of what was written about or in the attention paid to it at the time. Pope’s asser- tion was not only untrue, but he knew it to be untrue. Men were not then learning Chaucer’s words by rote. Even now they are not in the habit of doing it to any great extent. Yet though no justification exists for the attack, there may be found for it perhaps a certain excuse, or, at any 236 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY rate, explanation. A vague presentiment of the coming change may have been at the root of the feeling which provoked the line; for the whole ‘ Epistle’ in which it is contained exhibits a timid as well as a hostile attitude of mind. The poets of the past were looming up larger and larger before the imaginations of men. The com- ing literary revolution had begun to cast its shadow long before there was any evidence of its being in sight. The feeble beginnings that attended this new revival of learn- ing unconsciously inspired dread. In the movement then gradually taking form it may be no unwarranted extravagance of conjecture which fancies that Pope may have foreseen the influences that threatened his own downfall. Not that the consensus of all critics will ever deprive him of the lofty position he holds ; but the su- preme position he held in the eighteenth century could not forever be maintained. There may have been on his part an ill-defined feeling that the school he had founded must ultimately go down before this growing taste for the natural in poetry as distinguished from the purely intellectual. He could not well have forecast the strength and sweep of the storm that was slowly gather- ing. Still, with the prophetic sensitiveness of genius, he could hardly have failed to be conscious of the fact that it was in the air. There was, therefore, some ground for the repugnance he evinced. An Eddaic catastrophe was to involve in a general ruin the poetic creed that was then accepted and the poetic system that was estab- lished. It was not in the nature of things that Pope should look with absolute favor upon the giant race of elder poets, the representatives of the great natural EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY OPINION 237 forces, through whose agency the impending destruction was largely to be accomplished. Nor with his belief in the literary superstitions of his time could he be expect- ed to anticipate with complacency the twilight of the gods that was approaching, or to have faith in the new heaven and the new earth that were to succeed. It was natural, therefore, that Pope should occasion- ally sneer at the antiquarian taste which, slowly as it spread, was gradually extending the knowledge and raising the reputation of Chaucer. At the same time, there can be no doubt of the genuineness of his appre- ciation as far as it went. This is something that can- not always be predicated of the men of letters of that day who were led, for various reasons, to celebrate the memory of the poet. The testimonials they bore to his greatness seem often to partake rather of the nature of a forced tribute than of a free-will offering. The purely conventional character of many of them there has been, already frequent occasion to point out. The examples could be easily multiplied. Such an inscrip- tion, for instance, as Akenside composed for a statue of Chaucer never erected, and probably never intended to be erected, at Woodstock, is no evidence in itself of any familiarity with the author in whose honor it was written. It is merely a literary exercise in which noth- ing more is done than to repeat what it was the fashion for every man of letters of any position to say. Even notices of such a kind are likely to give a wrong im- pression of the feeling entertained about the poet, out- side of the slowly growing but yet comparatively lim- ited circle of those who appreciated him fully. To the 238 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY great mass of even the highly educated he still remained unknown. They continued to cherish the most baseless of the convictions in regard to him which had been held by the immediate past. Not content with simply inherit- ing its misapprehensions, they exaggerated them. Its er- rors they made still more erroneous. As a consequence we find that views which in the seventeenth century had been the views of a party had in the eighteenth become the views of nearly everybody. The opinions originally put forth as probable had been developed into the full vigor of positive statement, and were expressed with all the calm and confident assurance to which su- preme knowledge or supreme ignorance alone can attain. Chaucer’s verse was declared to be uncouth and inhar- monious. His language had long become incomprehen- sible. His fame, so far as it could be said to exist, owed its preservation to the pious labors of Dryden and Pope. Even in spite of the tales modernized by the first and most popular of these two translators, he was looked upon merely as a humorous writer. Per- haps it would be more correct to say that he was looked upon as a comic writer. It is certain that his humor, in- stead of being characterized as distinguished for lightness and delicacy, was described as of a coarse and barbar- ous nature. It was of a kind that could appeal only to the rude tastes of a rude age. Such was, at that time, the language of the rank and file of those men of letters who are in the habit of writ- ing volubly about matters which they know vaguely, or not at all. But however valueless their testimony may be in itself, it is always valuable for the reflection it EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY OPINION 239 furnishes of the prevailing uninformed or ill-informed current opinion. Such it is in this instance. There is little limit to the misapprehension then expressed or implied. In one of the slighter pieces of the period the poet was styled “ boozy Chaucer.” The generally received belief of the educated class of the middle of the eighteenth century is adequately depicted in a few verses that will be cited from a poem published anon- ymously in 1761. It is entitled ‘Woodstock Park, an Elegy,’ and is one of the countless imitations that Gray’s celebrated production called into being during the first fifty years after its appearance. A Scotchman named Hugh Dalrymple has the credit, such as it is, of being its author. As the writer was celebrating the glories of Woodstock, it was inevitable that he should drag in Chaucer. It is in the following lines that he gives us an insight into the character of the work he supposed the early poet produced, and of the fate that had already overtaken it : “ Old Chaucer, who in rough unequal verse Sung quaint allusion and facetious tale ; And ever as his jests he would rehearse, Loud peals of laughter echoed through the vale. ^ sis * * “ What though succeeding poets, as they sire,^ Revere his memory and approve his wit ; Though Spenser’s elegance and Dryden’s fire His name to ages far remote transmit ; “ His tuneless numbers hardly now survive As ruins of a dark and Gothic age ; And all his blithesome tales their praise derive From Pope’s immortal song and Prior’s page.” ^ ? An error for “ as their sire.” 240 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY These lines confirm the opinion, derived from other sources, that to some extent, at least, the existence of modernizations, and the belief in their value, had a direct tendency at that time to divert men from the study of the original. Yet it was only by this latter method that knowledge of the poet could be substituted for knowledge about him, or that intelligent appreciation, based upon sympathy, could be aroused and maintained. It was therefore unavoidable that in a genuine revival of Chaucer’s reputation the lead should be taken by scholars, as distinguished from men of letters. The in- terest in the poet exhibited by the latter class was rarely based upon anything but the most superficial acquaint- ance with his poetry. Consequently, like the seed sown upon stony soil, though it sprang up quickly, it as quick- ly withered away because it had no depth of root. At any rate, scholars did take the lead. But even with them, especially with those given up to the study of the classics, the feeling displayed did not often partake of the nature of enthusiasm. There was on their part a kind of hesitation as to the propriety of devoting much time or attention to one of the greatest of Eng- lish writers. They talked and acted as if such a course was not altogether in accordance with the dignity of their profession. It is quite in contrast with the self- complacency they would have exhibited had they spent months and years in the* elucidation of one of the ob- scurest, or in the celebration of one of the most con- temptible, of Greek or Latin authors. “ This, then, has been my amusement for some time,” says Dr. Morell, in 1737, the preface to his fragmentary edition of ANTIQUARIAN INTEREST IN THE POET 241 Chaucer, “ and I hope with no great detriment to the more severe and decent studies required by my place and character. I believe many a leisure hour might have been spent worse.” It was not the men who could express themselves in this way that were likely to in- spire others with a zeal which they themselves so con- spicuously lacked. From the fact, however, that the study of Chaucer in the original was largely confined to scholars, it was also inevitable that part of the reviving interest in his pro- ductions should be a result of the reverence paid to an- tiquity rather than to poetry. This, naturally, was not always the best way to extend his repute. In more than one instance he was harmed instead of helped by the indiscriminating eulogiums of antiquaries. Their want of appreciation of the literature that everybody knew tended to give an air of the ridiculous to their ap- preciation of the literature that nobody knew. By them and by their followers spurious work and inferior work was constantly held up as something worthy of special admiration. Estimates of this sort naturally provoked dissent from men who might not fully understand verse that was archaic, but did know it when it was good ; and who could not have commonplace thrust upon them as an exhibition of genius because it chanced to be clothed in an antique garb. Consequently, the old fa- miliar story of the feud between learning and letters, so frequent in the history of English literature, was re- peated to some extent in the case of Chaucer. The scholars had usually no taste, and the men of taste had no scholarship. There were exceptions to this rule. Ilk— 16 242 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY however. Some men of learning, who were also men of letters, not only knew the ancient poet themselves, but were earnest in their efforts to make him known to others. We learn, for instance, from Hearne that an ardent promoter of the attempt to bring out the edi- tion which goes under the name of Urry was Atter- bury, then dean of Christ Church.* Here it may be remarked that one of the earliest ef- forts to revive the knowledge of the writers of the past, including Chaucer, was made by a woman. It was in 1737 that Elizabeth Cooper published specimens of the productions of several of these in a work which, on its different title-pages, is termed either ‘The Historical and Poetical Medley’ or ‘The Muses’ Library.’ In this undertaking she had the assistance of the anti- quary Oldys ; but as the book appeared under her own name, it is the barest justice to hold her wholly respon- sible for its character. The selections contained in the volume came down to the age of Elizabeth, and the concluding ones were taken from the poet Daniel. The ones with which the volumes began purported to belong to the eleventh and twelfth centuries, though the language shows them to be a good deal later. There are other errors to be found in the book. There also appear, of course, the usual remarks, then cur- rent, about the rudeness and imperfection of the early tongue, the danger that beset the reputation of all au- thors from the fluctuations of speech, and the necessity of an academy. Still, I know of no similar work pro- duced at that period in which the knowledge displayed ^ Reliquice HerniancB, 2d ed. (London, 1869), vol. i., p. 243. INCREASING INTEREST IN THE POET 243 is so accurate and comprehensive, or the critical estimate so uniformly good and just. There was exhibited in it not merely freshness of judgment, but the independence that springs from the study of writers at first hand. Mrs. Cooper’s praise of Chaucer, though sincere, was not over- done. As a specimen of his powers she selected the unworn and highly characteristic prologue to the Par- . doner’s tale. The reason for this is worth giving, as fur- nishing additional proof of the general belief then en- tertained as to the superiority of Chaucer translated to Chaucer in the original. “ Most of his principal tales,” she wrote, “ have been already exhausted by the mod- erns, and consequently neither of them would appear to advantage in their antiquated original dress.” This work was, however, too far in advance of the time to meet with any popular success. A continuation of it, which had been projected, was never brought out. The single volume published was more than enough for the men of that generation. These were too well sat- isfied with their own merit to give much heed to any merit which enthusiasts might fancy to exist in the past. Still, the intelligent study of Chaucer was steadily gain- ing ground. A special criticism made by one scholar deserves notice here for this reason rather than for any particular value we need attach to his estimate of the poet. It occurs in the writings of Bishop Hurd. His work entitled ‘ Letters on Chivalry and Romance ’ was originally published in 1762. It is the first, so far as I am able to discover, to bring out distinctly the truth that the tale of Sir Thopas was meant to be taken ironically and not seriously; that in it Chaucer anticipated Cervan- 244 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY tes in satirizing the stories of chivalry, though in his case it is not so much the adventures of the knights-errant that are held up to ridicule as the manner in which they had been recounted. Hurd does not profess to have dis- covered the fact for himself. It had been pointed out to him years before by some one whose name he does not mention. He confesses his surprise when he learned that the poet of so early a period, when chivalry was still flourishing, could have discerned the absurdity of the old romances, and have deliberately made them the subject of banter. The context, once carefully consid- ered, leaves not the slightest doubt of the fact. Yet it seems scarcely to have been suspected by any one for centuries ; though in this matter we may easily con- found the failure to perceive with the failure to record. Sir Thomas Wyatt’s observation in his poem on the ‘ Courtier’s Life,’ that he was not one to " Praise Sir Topas for a noble tale, And scorn the story that the Knight told,” may perhaps be taken to show that the character of this particular piece had long before been appreciated by some as well as misunderstood by most. It is the observations contained in Thomas Warton’s ‘ History of English Poetry’ that denote the high-water mark of the eighteenth-century judgment of Chaucer. To the oldest writers of English literature Warton was attracted both by the bent of his mind and the nat- ure of his studies. In the first critical work he pro- duced — the ‘ Observations on the Faerie Queene of Spenser,’ which came out in 1754 — he took occasion to WARTON ON CHAUCER 245 deplore the then prevalent indifference to the writings of the earliest of our great poets. His words still have a good deal of interest for the light they throw upon contemporary opinion. “ I cannot dismiss this section,” he said, “ without a wish that this neglected author, whom Spenser proposed as the pattern of his style, and to whom he is indebted for many noble inventions, should be more universally studied. This is at least what one might expect in an age of research and curi- osity. Chaucer is regarded rather as an old than as a good poet. We look upon his poems as venerable rel- ics, not as beautiful compositions; as pieces better cal- culated to gratify the antiquarian than the critic. He abounds not only in strokes of humor, which is common- ly supposed to be his sole talent, but of pathos and sub- limity not unworthy a more refined age. His old man- ners, his romantic arguments, his wildness of painting, his simplicity and antiquity of expression, transport us into some fairy region, and are all highly pleasing to the im- agination. It is true that his uncouth and unfamiliar language disgusts and deters many readers ; but the prin- cipal reason of his being so little known, and so seldom taken into hand, is the convenient opportunity of read- ing him with pleasure and facility in modern imitations.” Both the progress of appreciation and the lack of full appreciation are clearly discernible in this passage. The feelings that inspired the view pervading it are displayed still more fully in the chapters of Warton’s ‘ History ’ that are devoted to Chaucer. It was twenty years later — that is, in 1774 — that the volume containing these appeared. After that time a new order of things set in. 246 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY and new ways of looking at the early poet began to pre- vail. But these chapters will always be of interest and value for the information they give us of the sentiments of the transition period through which Chaucer’s rep- utation was now passing. Warton’s criticisms, though in the main following the old lines, showed plainly the greatness of the advance in knowledge that had been made. It is the work of a man who had read the writ- ings of which he spoke, and not merely read about them. His selection of passages for commendation, and of passages characteristic of the poet’s style, were usually taken from the genuine productions, and not, as had often been the case, from those which are now rec- ognized as spurious. The praise, moreover, which he bestowed was so hearty that it excited comment, and in some instances dissent. I have already mentioned how Walpole’s feelings were outraged by the prefer- ence apparently exhibited — for nothing of that nature is openly expressed — for the originals of Chaucer to the modernizations of Pope, and even of Dryden. Warton also added much matter illustrative of the poet’s com- positions, to which all succeeding writers have been under obligation. His work, indeed, is one which it will perhaps be always necessary to consult for its facts, its references, and its inferences; and though in many points it needs to be corrected, a long time will certainly elapse before it will be superseded. All this can be said, and be said truly. But while the substantial merits of the chapters on Chaucer need not be denied, they are very far from being perfectly satis- factory. They were marked in particular by the defects WARTON ON CHAUCER 247 which invariably characterized the writings of both the Wartons. In certain ways these two scholars were the most irritating of commentators and literary critics. Their object was never so much to illustrate their author as to illustrate themselves. Instances of this disposition occur constantly in those sections of the ‘ History of English Poetry’ which treat of Chaucer. Warton is constantly wandering away from his legitimate subject to furnish information about matters that concerned very remotely, if at all, the business in hand. Much of the material he collected is introduced not to throw light upon the question under consideration, but to parade his knowledge. Still, it is the spirit that pervades the work which is especially objectionable. About it lingered the apologetic air of the eighteenth century, which talked as if it had something of a contempt for itself for taking interest in an age when neither language nor poetry had reached the supreme elegance by which both were then distinguished. Warton’s words make upon the mind the impression that he admired Chaucer greatly, and was ashamed of himself for having been caught in the act. Whenever he abandons conventionally accepted ground, we recognize at once the timid utterance of the man who feels called upon to put in a plea in extenua- tion of the appreciation he has manifested. At the very outset we are treated to a‘ specimen of that sort of criti- cal comment which is never able to stand alone, but must always bolster itself upon the crutches of other people’s opinions. Warton probably knew more about the early writers of our speech than any man then liv- ing. His authority on the subject was certainly at that 248 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY time reckoned supreme. Yet he felt it necessary to sum- mon to his support men whose views in this matter were of scarcely any authority at all. He began his account of Chaucer with the remark that this early writer had been “ pronounced by a critic of unquestionable taste and dis- cernment ” — by whom he meant Dr. Johnson — “to be the first English versifier who wrote poetically.” Most disappointing of all, however, was the currency he gave to the foolish and misleading criticism which discussed the poet in the same style, and judged him ac- cording to the same standard, in which and by which Shakspeare had been treated and tried when he was termed by Voltaire a drunken savage, and by Diderot a rough-hewn Colossus. The tone, it is true, was alto- gether more respectful, but the general nature of the comment was the same. Of the ‘ House of Fame ’ Warton tells us that it contains “ great strokes of Gothic imagination, yet bordering often on the most ideal and capricious extravagance.” In discoursing upon the Knight’s tale he speaks of the tremendous passage which describes the Temple of Mars in precisely the same spirit. “ This group,” he writes, “ is the effort of a strong im- agination unacquainted with the selection and arrange- ment of images. It is rudely thrown upon the canvas without order or art.” The form of Mars which follows is said to be “ touched with the impetuous dashes of a savage and spirited pencil.” The portrait of Lycurgus, the King of Thrace, in the same piece, “ is highly charged, and very great in the Gothic style of painting.” Warton was once, indeed, led away by his enthusiasm to remark that a description of the morning in Chaucer vied “ both WARTON ON CHAUCER 249 in sentiment and expression with the most finished modern poetical landscapes.” He doubtless felt that praise had been exhausted in this extravagant utterance. Warton, in fact, much as he had studied the earlier writers of our tongue, was not fitted to appreciate them fully or to criticise them justly. In his own writings he was nothing more than a reputable representative of that second-rate imitativeness which in the eighteenth century was sometimes looked upon as the first order of art. The poetry he produced as well as the poetry he was inclined to prefer is at best a poetry of recollec- tion rather than of originality. In those who are not familiar with the sources from which it is taken or by which it is inspired it seldom awakens any responsive chord. It had no creative power. It looked, therefore, with suspicion, if not with repugnance, upon creative power that displayed itself in methods to which it was unaccustomed. Warton had much to say of the prefer- ence for Statius to Virgil exhibited by the men of the Middle Ages. He implied that it was the swelling phrase of the former author that caught their fancy as contrasted with the quiet beauty of the latter. Whatever truth may be in the assertion generally, we know it to be untrue in the case of Chaucer, whose admiration for the foremost Latin poet is expressed unequivocally, and whose famil- iarity with his greatest work is displayed in numerous passages. The nature of the comment, however, gives us a glimpse of the nature of Warton’s mind. Some men put restraint upon expression because they have so much to say ; others exhibit it because they have so lit- tle. To this latter class he belonged. His ideas were 250 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY tame, his method of enforcing them was still tamer. His objection to swelling phrases sprang from weakness and not from strength. It never occurred to him that timidity of expression was no more respectable than tumidity, and was much less promising. His narrow canons of taste led him, in consequence, to use unde- signedly a patronizing tone, when speaking of the poet, which is singularly out of place. In his eyes Chaucer is a Goth — a Goth of genius, to be sure — but still a Goth. Being a Goth, he had not the severe self-restraint of the moderns, their chastity of diction, their propriety of manner; in fine, their art. The constant use of the words Goth and Gothic de- mands perhaps a word of explanation. In the litera- ture of the eighteenth century these epithets played about the same role that the word Philistine plays, or has begun to play, in this. They expressed a general disapprobation without putting the one who employed them under the necessity of substantiating what he meant by any precise definition. To call a man a Goth conveyed a vague sense of superiority on the part of him who uttered it, and a general sense of the disreputability of him about whom it was uttered ; and it was made the harder to endure and the more potent to crush because the man who applied it did not usually understand what was meant by it any more than did the man to whom it was applied. It inevitably became in time the refuge of critical imbecility. With that the sense of shame attaching to it gradually disappeared. Gothic is now a complimentary epithet rather than a disparaging one. Even in Warton’s time it had begun to lose, in fact it WARTON ON CHAUCER 25 had almost lost, the suggestion of reproach it had origi- nally conveyed. Hurd had laboriously defended what it signified, or what he supposed it signified. Walpole, in his ‘ Castle of Otranto,’ had founded a school of ro- mance-writing which he dubbed with its name. It was therefore well along on the road to honor. The proc- ess is now repeating itself in the case of the modern word which in some senses has taken its place ; and when we consider how much superior the men who are termed Philistines usually are to the men who so term them, we need not doubt that the latter epithet is also destined in time to become a title of special respect. There is one other view which Warton expressed about Chaucer and his period that deserves consider- ation. Still, though it found a place in his ‘ History,’ he was neither the first nor the last to give it utterance. This is to the effect that the poet was in a great meas- ure hampered by the barbarous character of the time and of the language. That Chaucer was hampered by the fact that he had no great literary models in his own speech to follow is unquestionable. It is likewise true that he had personally to create the melody which he exemplified, and that this task was one which must have required for its accomplishment patience and labor as well as genius. But these were not the sort of obstacles that men had in mind. It was not the difficulty of moulding an uncultivated language into form that was suggested, but an incapacity inherent at the time in the language itself to be reduced to form or to find suitable expression for thought. There was widely prevalent a singular belief in the gradual improvement of poetry 252 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY from age to age. Its first attempts, according to this view, must be, comparatively speaking, a failure. Its notes must be artless and untuneful. Never was a more untenable doctrine held. A certain grade of develop- ment is, without doubt, necessary to a language before it can adapt itself to the purposes of the highest poetry ; but that development takes place at a very early period in its history. When once it has come to pass, genius, which always starts out full-grown, finds in it a perfect instrument of expression. Yet, though the history of almost every literature furnishes satisfactory proof of the falsity of the belief that has been mentioned, it was one which for a long time seems to have held complete sway over men in regard to the English literature of the fourteenth century. Even where appreciation existed, surprise was always manifested that poetry so good could have been written so early. We find this feeling exhibited by Sir Philip Sidney. “Truly I know not,” he says of Chaucer, “ whether to marvel more, either that he in that misty time saw so clearly, or that we in this clear age walk so stumblingly after him.” ^ Dryden, as we have seen, tells us that he had added something of his own in his modernizations when he thought Chau- cer had not given his thoughts their true lustre “ for want of words in the beginning of our language.” “ We are surprised,” writes Warton, “ to find in a poet of such antiquity numbers so nervous and flowing.” Even as late an author as Southey comes in to the support of this fallacy. “ Surely Chaucer,” he wrote to Landor in i8i I, “ is as much a poet as it was possible for him to be * Apology for Poetry (Arber’s reprint), p. 62 . GROWTH OF APPRECIATION 253 while the language was in so rude a state.”* That views of this sort should be held is not perhaps very strange ; what is strange is to find them held by men of ability. Fancy a body of Alexandrine Greek critics deploring the barbarousness of the time in which Homer flourished, and imputing it to him as an additional merit that he had triumphed over the rudeness of the speech in which he wrote ! With Warton we do not take leave of the eighteenth century, but we do of its distinctive ideas. Not that they failed to survive to a later period. But they henceforth ceased to dominate to any marked extent the higher order of minds ; and it is in the influence a great author exerts over these that the history of liter- ary reputation is to be traced. Juster appreciation was speedily to follow from fuller knowledge. It was from the lack of knowledge, and not from the lack of intelli- gence, that Chaucer’s fame had mainly suffered in the eighteenth century. There are certain characteristics of his writings with which the men of that age would have been in fullest sympathy, had they been sufficient- ly familiar with his language to understand them. Per- haps it would not be out of the way to assert that they would have been in fuller sympathy with them than the men of most periods. The clearness and ease which distinguish the early poet’s work, the uniformly low level upon which he moves, the utter absence of shock and strain, the indefinable charm and geniality of his manner, would have specially recommended him to the favor of that large body of cultivated readers then liv- ^ Southey's Life and Correspondence, vol. iii., p. 295. 254 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY ingwho had been trained under the influence of French literature, were largely swayed by its canons of taste, and felt most keenly the attractiveness of its methods of expression. To their appreciation he was specially fitted to appeal. For in those qualities in which that literature excels, Chaucer has come nearer to it than any other author of our tongue. Its lightness, its grace, the perfect proportion of part to part, the perfection of finish, the delicacy yet brilliancy of touch, the archness of the satire as contrasted with the downright English directness, the exquisite bonhomie — all these, which su- premely characterize the finest French art, are the very traits which distinguish Chaucer most from the other writers of our speech. But these qualities were hidden from the men who would best have enjoyed them, be- cause knowledge of them could only be gained by a fuller study than they had the disposition to bestow or the facilities to carry on ; while the things that repelled them — especially the disregard of what they called pro- priety — lay upon the surface, and could not miss being seen by the most careless. It was the publication, in 1775, of Tyrwhitt’s edition of the ‘Canterbury Tales’ that heralded the coming of a new order of things. It needs a thorough familiarity with eighteenth-century comment, of which I have given a few examples, to realize fully from what a body of misconception of all sorts that great scholar rescued the reputation of the poet. For the first time since the invention of printing Chaucer appeared in a proper light before his countrymen. A text was furnished which, however unsatisfactory to the requirements of INFLUENCE OF TYRWHITT 255 modern linguistic science, has comparatively little to dread from any purely literary comparison. The im- petus which Tyrwhitt gave to the study of the poet never ceased to operate from the time it was first set in motion. Its beginnings, it is true, were small. It was not until 1798 that the second edition of his work was published by Oxford University. But long before that time his text had been pirated by Bell. It had also been embodied in the collection of English poetry made by Dr. Anderson. After the beginning of the present century reprints of it were numerous, and by the middle of it the ‘ Canterbury Tales ’ had been made accessible to every one in a large number of cheap forms. The various services which Tyrwhitt rendered to the study of the poet have been noticed in their appropriate places in this work. Here it is only necessary to speci- fy one particularly. It was he who first effectually laid the ghost of the most persistent error that haunted the men of the eighteenth century. This was the doctrine of the irregularity and uncouthness of Chaucer’s versi- fication. A glimmering of the truth about this subject had been caught by Urry. It dawned with a little more distinctness upon the mind of Morell. After a vague fashion, it subsequently became known to other schol- ars. But the real facts in the matter had never been fully and precisely stated. They had never affected in the slightest the general opinion, for they had never been brought out in a way that could be comprehended by all. This it was Tyrwhitt’s distinction to do. The theory of Chaucer’s versification he set forth with a clearness and force that carried with it at once almost 256 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY universal conviction of its truth. In the application of it he made mistakes, owing to the then pardonable lack of acquaintance with the earlier grammatical forms of our tongue. But the principle upon which the read- ing of Chaucer’s verse rested he established so firmly that it henceforth required incapacity to miss it, or per- versity of judgment to refuse to accept it. Errors of detail it is now easy to point out. But the value of the work he accomplished will be denied least of all by those who are aware how great an obstacle to the ap- preciation of Chaucer and to the extension of his repu- tation was the belief in the ruggedness of his versifica- tion which the eighteenth century cherished almost re- ligiously. On that point the critical estimate had remained about the same as that which Dryden had adopted and established. The early poet’s ore, to use the simile of that author, was purest gold ; but it was not only debased by admixture, it was incrusted with rough earth. All through the eighteenth century there are constant references to the homeliness of his diction and the lameness of his versification. Even in our own cen- tury there have been found professed students of our early literature to talk of the rudeness and imperfection of his metre. But what is now a sporadic utterance was then the accepted doctrine. There is scarcely a single comment upon Chaucer made in the first three quarters of the last century that does not either assert or imply that his verse was rough and uncouth. More than one piece of testimony to this effect has already been given. With rudeness of versification was also VIEWS OVERTHROWN BY TYRWHITT 257 joined, in their eyes, obscurity of meaning. The whole critical attitude of the men of that time can perhaps be fairly conveyed by the quotation of a single stanza con- tained in a poem written by Robert Lloyd, the friend of Churchill. This was one of the numerous imitations of Spenser, then the fashion to produce, and was pub- lished in 1751. Its title was ‘The Progress of Envy;’ for it was occasioned by the exposure of the forgery of Lauder in his attack upon the originality of Milton. It is in the following way that Lloyd spoke of the early poet. In its comment upon the simplicity of his style, the rudeness of his verse, and the obscurity of his lan- guage, we find embodied in brief space the common and the most favorable view then current : “ Not far from these, Dan Chaucer, ancient wight, A lofty seat on Mount Parnassus held. Who long had been the Muses’ chief delight ; His reverend locks were silvered o’er with eld ; Grave was his visage and his habit plain ; And while he sung, fair nature he displayed. In verse albeit uncouth and simple strain ; Ne mote he well be seen, so thick the shade Which elms and aged oaks had all around him made.” The blundering of men of letters without learning and the boorishness of scholars without taste had united to confer upon Chaucer this utterly unwarranted and discreditable reputation for ruggedness of versification. Such was the force of this feeling that this assumed rudeness began under the stress of antiquarian study to be looked upon as a virtue, and was seriously praised as a positive proof of merit. We have had already one III.— 17 258 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY illustration of this view. In the lines quoted from Har- rison, the majesty of Chaucer’s muse is supposed to disdain the trivialities of cadence and sound. Old honest Clytus,” we are told, “scorns a Persian dress.”’ A little later, the antiquary John Dart, in a poem on Westminster Abbey, gave expression to the same opin- ion. He re-echoed the sentiment of Dryden’s lines that to Chaucer the Greek and the Roman bard must give place ; and then proceeded to pay him a compliment of this equivocal sort : “ His rough bold strokes, with rude unpolished pride, Art’s curious touch and nicest care deride.” No one ever thought of praising Homer and Virgil after this fashion. That any one ever did so praise Chaucer is nothing more than an evidence of the occasional triumph of matter over mind. For it is essential to the adop- tion of such a theory that supposed learning must over- balance actual taste. A belief like this naturally died away as the truth brought out by Tyrwhitt became better and better known. With it disappeared one of the greatest ob- stacles that had hindered the full recognition of the early poet’s greatness. But besides the removal of this stumbling-block new and powerful positive agencies were coming in to advance the interest taken in his writings. The great intellectual movement which began towards the close of the last century was largely a revolt against the dominant ideas that had long prevailed in literature. One of its immediate results was to lift Chaucer into a ’ See page 106. POPULARITY IN THE GEORGIAN PERIOD 259 position of special prominence, not with the mass of even educated men, to be sure, but with the leaders of this literary revolt that was marching on its way to success- ful revolution. As the poet of naturalness he appealed most strongly to the pioneers in this revival. He was one of the few authors whom Wordsworth read con- stantly ; one of the exceedingly few to whom he felt and admitted inferiority. Southey’s admiration was ex- pressed with a frequency that compelled him to repeat on numerous occasions the same sentiments in almost the same words. “ Chaucer,” he writes, “ stands in the first rank with Spenser, Shakspeare and Milton : and in variety of power Shakspeare is his only peer.”^ Cole- ridge shared fully in the feelings of his friends. His re- gard for the poet was one which he continued to hold till the end of his life. “I take unceasing delight in Chaucer,” he said in 1834. “ His manly cheerfulness is especially delicious to me in my old age. How exquis- itely tender he is, and yet how perfectly free from the . least touch of sickly melancholy or morbid drooping !”“ There is, in fact, scarcely a prominent writer of the later Georgian period who has not somewhere given testimony of his admiration and appreciation of Chau- cer. It varies, as might be expected, in character and intensity. Some of the criticism with which it was ac- companied will strike the men of to-day as singularly in- adequate. This is particularly the case with the com- ments of Scott and of Campbell. Some, moreover, of the tributes paid are paid in the most perfunctory man- ner. They read like the utterances of persons not too ^ Life of Cowper, vol. ii., p. 121 (1836). ^ Table Talk, March 15, 1834. 26 o CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY familiar with what they are writing about, and give the impression that their authors are making believe very hard to like out of deference to the opinions of those whom they recognize to be better judges than them- selves. Still, this exhibition of deference is evidence that the poet had now won such hold over the higher class of minds that it was felt incumbent to profess re- spect for him, even if one did not profess admiration. We need not waste time and thought upon this half- hearted appreciation from which all authors will suffer as long as there is diversity of taste among men. There was plenty of enthusiasm then exhibited for Chaucer outside of utterances of this sort. There had come like- wise to be a general agreement in the recognition given to his greatness. To this chorus of approbation there was one noteworthy exception in the case of Byron. Far too much, however, has been made of his words. A weight has been assigned to them at which he him- self could hardly have failed to be astounded. For the views expressed by him are the views of a mere boy who stands ready to settle all questions of taste, and solve all problems in statesmanship and morals with the unhesi- tating confidence of bright but bumptious youth. His observations upon Chaucer occur in the entry of a mem- orandum book of the works he had read at the time it was written. It belongs to the year 1807. He was then less than twenty years old. This one fact settles the value to be attributed to what he said, not merely as opinions, but as Byron’s opinions. There is in his remarks much affectation of learning, and his conclu- sions are announced with all the dreadful earnestness BYRON ON CHAUCER 261 of boyhood. ‘‘ Chaucer,” he writes, “ notwithstanding the praise bestowed on him, I think obscene and con- temptible : — he owes his celebrity merely to his an- tiquity, which he does not deserve as well as Pierce Plowman or Thomas of Ercildoune. English living poets I have avoided mentioning : — we have none who will not survive their productions. Taste is over with us ; and another century will sweep our empire, our lit- erature, and our name from all but a place in the annals of mankind.” Here it will be observed that where the critic leaves off, the prophet begins. It would, of course, be grossly unfair to hold the man responsible for the ut- terances of the boy. There is, indeed, no reason to sup- pose that Byron at any time of his life knew much of Chaucer, if anything. He was too great a poet himself, and had in particular too keen an enjoyment of humor, not to have appreciated in that case a mind which on its satirical side was closely allied to his own. Still, there is something so delightful in Byron at any age taking Chaucer to task for obscenity that it would have been a misfortune not to have had his words recorded. The lofty standard of virtue he early attained it is not given to the man of average morals ever to reach. It would obviously be unreasonable to lay much stress upon the accident of familiarity or non-familiarity with Chaucer’s works upon the part of particular persons, no matter at what period they lived. Still, I cannot but feel that in his case the difference of knowledge and feeling exhibited by two celebrated women, writing at an interval of less than fifty years apart, marks fairly the difference of interest and of taste that had come to 262 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY prevail among the educated class during the course of half a century. Both of these persons held an impor- tant position in the literature of their day. Both were persons of exceptional cultivation and attainment. Both were deeply interested in poetry. One of them is Miss Carter. She belongs in spirit as well as in time to the last century. Among women she is perhaps its greatest scholar. Her distinction in her own age was due full as much to her learning as to her purely literary achieve- ment. To Chaucer it might be supposed she would have been attracted by scholastic tastes, if not by lit- erary. Yet she knows nothing of him save what she has learned from the reference in the ‘II Penseroso’ of Milton. This fact she tells us herself in a letter written to Mrs. Montagu in 1776. Though Milton celebrates Chaucer, the knowledge of the early poet that can be gathered from his pages is naturally of the mistiest con- ceivable character. Yet with this knowledge Miss Car- ter was content. Contrast her state of mind with that of Mary Russell Mitford, whose tastes lay much more in the direction of literature than in that of learning. We might expect that she would have been repelled by lin- guistic difficulties that certainly would not have de- terred, if they actually would not have attracted, her predecessor. So far was this from being the case that not only were Chaucer’s writings well known to Miss Mitford, they inspired her with a profound enthusiasm. If Milton and Shakspeare were set aside, she was in- clined to prefer him to almost any writer in the circle of English poets. “ Two or three of his Canterbury Tales,” she wrote to a correspondent in 1815, “and PRESENT POPULARITY 263 some select passages from his other productions are worth all the age of Queen Anne, our Augustan age, as it has been called, ever produced.”' Up to a late period the knowledge of Chaucer has been mainly confined to that comparatively small body of men whose tastes were especially literary or scholarly. It is only since the middle of this century that acquaint- ance with his works has broadened and extended to cir- cles to which nothing more than his name would once have penetrated. This statement is particularly true of the last twenty-five years. It is probably well within bounds to say that Chaucer is now read by a score of persons where not long ago he was read by scarcely one. At no period since the latter half of the sixteenth century has knowledge of the poet been so great as now, and in- terest in his writings so widespread. Not only does the number of his students constantly increase, but the facili- ties for studying him increase proportionately. Not a year passes which does not bring forth the result of some investigation that throws light upon points previously ob- scure or unintelligible, and add some scrap of informa- tion to the scanty stock of knowledge we possess about the man and his writings. Not a year passes which does not see some of his productions come out in a new form. Edition after edition appears of his works in whole or in part. More have been published during the past twenty years than came from the press during the previous three hundred. Something of this revival is doubtless due to the increasing attention paid to the earlier periods of the English language, which has naturally directed the minds ^ Life of Mary Russell Milford (London, 1870), vol. i., p. 311. 264 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY of men to the first great representative author in Eng- lish literature. More of it has been due to the impulse given to the special study of the poet’s writings by the formation of the Chaucer Society. This began its pub- lications in 1868. Still, that society was itself a result of the deep interest that had come to be displayed in the works of him for whose sake it was founded. Nor does the feeling which prompted this study show signs of diminution. It grows, and it grows so rapidly that its increase seems sometimes to partake more of the nature of geometrical progression than of arithmetical. All this will be conceded by him who is familiar with the facts. As Chaucer is constantly appealing to a wider and wider circle of readers, it may be thought, in consequence, that the day is not far distant when he will become a popular poet in the sense we attach to the phrase as applied to an author of the first rank. That such he is pre-eminently fitted to be, both by the variety of his powers and his unrivalled skill in narration, can- not be denied. Yet I am bound to record my own con- viction that to this position he can never attain until his writings have been put into modern orthography. There are those who do not care for any such result. They feel as did Landor, that as many people read Chaucer as are fit to read him. There may be both truth and justice in this view. Certainly with those holding it no argument on this point can very well be maintained. There is, however, a far larger number of those who believe that the influence of one of the healthiest spirits in our or in any literature should be extended as far and wide as possible. To this the orthography CHAUCER IN MODERN ORTHOGRAPHY 265 in which the poet appears presents a barrier not easily overcome. The spelling of Chaucer in any edition — for in this respect no two editions are alike — is not at all hard to master. Still, to the unpractised eye it looks formidable. It is sufficiently awe-inspiring in ap- pearance to keep a large body of intelligent men from attempting to assail it. More than that, it has not only been enough to deter persons fully capable of appreci- ating the poet from the effort to make his acquaintance, it has in many instances deprived them of the desire. Acting under this conviction, I have in this work fol- lowed the practice of putting into modern orthography the extracts I have taken from Chaucer’s writings, un- less some special object in view required the retention of the ancient spelling. This is a proceeding upon which most scholars look with disfavor, if not with posi- tive aversion. It may be proper, therefore, to conclude this chapter with a discussion of the grounds upon which this action is based. It will not, of course, be suspected that any one who has studied even superficially the Eng- lish language will stand up for the present orthography as a thing creditable in itself. He may accept it as a burden of which he sees no present way of getting rid ; but that is something altogether different from taking pride in it or looking upon it as an object worthy of re- gard. There is certainly nothing more contemptible than our present spelling, unless it be the reasons usu- ally given for clinging to it. The divorce which has unfortunately almost always existed between English letters and English scholarship makes nowhere a more pointed exhibition of itself than in the comments which 266 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY men of real literary ability make upon proposals to change or modify the cast-iron framework in which our words are now clothed. On one side there is'an abso- lute agreement of view on the part of those who are au- thorized by their knowledge of the subject to pronounce an opinion. These are well aware that the present or- thography hides the history of the word, instead of re- vealing it ; that it is a stumbling-block in the way of derivation or of pronunciation, instead of a guide to it ; that it is not in any proper sense a growth or development, but a mechanical malformation which owes its existence to the ignorance of early printers and the necessity of consulting the convenience of printing-offices. This con- sensus of scholars makes the slightest possible impres- sion upon men of letters throughout the whole great Anglo-Saxon community. There is hardly one of them who is not calmly confident in the superiority of his opinion to that of the most famous special students, who have spent years in examining the subject. There is hardly one of them who does not fancy that he is mani- festing a noble conservatism by holding fast to some spelling peculiarly absurd, and thereby maintaining a bul- wark against the ruin of the tongue. There is hardly one of them who does not hesitate to discuss the ques- tion in its entirety, while every word he utters shows that he does not even understand its elementary princi- ples. There would be something thoroughly comic in turning into a fierce international dispute the question of spelling honor without the ii, were it not for the de- pression which every student of the language cannot well help feeling in contemplating the hopeless abysmal CHAUCER IN MODERN ORTHOGRAPHY 267 ignorance of the history of the tongue which any edu- cated man must first possess in order to become excited on the subject at all. Such a state of things could not exist — it would not, in fact, be tolerated — in a nation of scholars like the German. It is, perhaps, not unreason- able to hope that, as a result of the increasing attention paid to our early speech, enough knowledge about the history of our orthography may filter down to the aver- age man of letters to enable him to comprehend what are the real difficulties in the way of reforming English spelling, and lead him to abandon his present habit of bringing forward imaginary ones that are little more than the inventions of his own ignorance. This is, undoubtedly, one reason that has some weight with many scholars in the desire they feel to retain the ancient spelling in the case of the works of Chaucer. He is attracting more and more the regard of a large class of cultivated readers. The argument in his pages against the orthographical superstitions in which we have been brought up cannot fail in the long run to impress the minds even of the careless. But, after all, this has never been the main reason for retaining the original spelling. Nor, if it were, would this be a good ground for adhering to it. A great poet does not exist for the reformation of linguistic evils or for instruction in any branch of linguistic science. The proper light in which to view him is a literary light. With those who seek the widest extension of his influence everything should be made subordinate to the extension of the knowledge of him as a poet, and only as a poet. Our existing orthography is upon us. Until it can be shaken 268 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY. off, we must accept it ; and he who wishes to be widely read must appear in it. For one, I am unable to see any more reason for retaining Chaucer in the spelling of his time, so far as popular use is concerned, than for retain- ing Shakspeare. There has never been the slightest pretext for continuing to reproduce Spenser’s works as they were originally printed. In spite of his affectation of the archaic, he is generally as modern as any writer of his period, and his lines present fewer difficulties in the way of comprehension or of recitation than those of some of our own contemporaries. For students the works of Chaucer, as well as of other ancient writers, will always be required in the spelling of their age. Nor need we limit the necessity to ancient writers. For scholarly study the text of every great author, whether early or late, should be produced exactly as he brought it into being. There are numerous questions connected with language and versification which render such a course indispensable. But it is not in behalf of students that in this instance a resort to modern spelling is pro- posed. It is for that already large and steadily increas- ing class who would go to Chaucer, not at all from lin- guistic, but from purely literary motives. For them the thought and the expression of the thought are the only things to be considered. There is no more need of placing in the way of such persons an unfamiliar and obsolete orthography than there would be in the case of Shakspeare. The difficulty of putting the language into a form fitted for popular comprehension is indeed much greater in the one instance than in the other. The variations in accentuation and pronunciation are far EXPERIMENT IN MODERN ORTHOGRAPHY 269 wider between the nineteenth century and the four- teenth century than between the nineteenth and the sixteenth. But the principle is precisely the same, and the difficulties, so far from being insurmountable, are not even formidable. One practical objection has been raised against this course. It has been said that the experiment has al- ready been tried and has proved a failure. In 1835 Charles Cowden Clarke brought out two volumes of the poet’s writings under the title of ‘ The Riches of Chau- cer.’ The first volume contained the general Prologue and eleven of the tales, with their introductions ; the second, extracts from the other poems, especially from ‘Troilus and Cressida.’ In this work the spelling was modernized and the accentuation marked. The edition, as can be seen, was very far from being a complete one. It was designedly made an expurgated one. It was professedly addressed to those whom Mr. Clarke called his young friends. He purposed, to use his own words, “ to omit all those tales and casual passages of ill-favored complexion, which, if retained, would infallibly banish the book from the very circles whither it was directed, and where I hope to hear of its welcoming — I mean those ornaments of this civilized age and patterns to the civilized world, the ingenuous, intelligent, well-informed, and artless young women of England.” Still, the edi- tion, incomplete as it was, contained a great deal of Chaucer’s best poetry. All difficulties, moreover, in the way of reading it had been removed, so far as that could be done. If a work of this character could succeed, this then, it is said, ought to have succeeded. Yet it did 2/0 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY not. The ingenuous, intelligent, well-informed, and art- less young women of England, the ornaments of this civilized age and patterns to the civilized world, did not apparently take kindly to the intellectual nutriment that had been provided for their special delectation. There is no evidence that this edition increased the number of Chaucer’s readers. It certainly did not make him popular. Nor was acquaintance with his writings ma- terially aided by the same process of modernizing the spelling which was carried out in the edition of the ‘ Canterbury Tales ’ which was included in the collection of the British Poets that appeared in i860 under the editorship of Gilfillan. The fact can be admitted that Clarke’s volumes did not make Chaucer popular. It is the inferences that have been drawn from the fact that are objectionable. It was not possible for any edition in any form that ap- peared at that time to cause him to be widely read. The age was not ripe for the attainment of any such re- sult. Public attention had not been attracted to the early poet ; public interest had not been aroused in him ; nor outside of the special body of highly educated men, more or less scholarly in their tastes, did much curiosity exist about him. Appreciation of his writings could not be expected to spring up in a day. It is a growth, not a special creation. Moreover, there were marked de- fects in the work itself. It was an incomplete edition, and this is something which no one, man or woman, is disposed to like. It was an expurgated edition, which is something all men detest. It was printed in type most villainously small. If the young women to whom PRONUNCIATION OF CHAUCER 2/ 1 it was dedicated had pored over it, they would have been compelled to sacrifice their eyesight to their intel- lectual development. In addition, while the pronuncia- tion was indicated, it was not always indicated correct- ly. This was especially true of the accent when it fell upon a syllable of the word different from that upon which it now ordinarily rests. This last imperfection was largely aggravated in Gilfillan’s edition, in which Clarke’s modernizations were used so far as they had been made. These defects would be enough of them- selves to show the worthlessness of the inferences that have been drawn from the assumed ill-success that at- tended the project. But even the ill-success is nothing but an assumption. This edition met with about the same amount of favor that might have been anticipated for a work of the kind appearing at the time it did. The only reason for looking upon it as a failure is that it failed to come up to the unreasonable expectation en- tertained by its projector. This clothing of the poet’s words in modern orthog- raphy necessarily involves taking, so far as popular use is concerned, the still further ground that he should be pronounced as near to modern English as can be done without destroying the harmony of the versification. Great efforts have been put forth during the past few years to recover the pronunciation of Chaucer’s time. The subject is an interesting one ; the pursuit of it has already been attended with marked success; and the importance of the information secured cannot well be overrated. But there is always a tendency to extend the results of investigations of this character beyond 2/2 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY their legitimate province, and to intrude them into mat- ters with which they have no concern. That tendency is plainly manifesting itself at the present time in the views entertained about the proper pronunciation of Chaucer’s words. Into a discussion involving honest difference of opinion it is undesirable to import any terms that are liable to beget ill-feeling. Yet it seems to me impossible to overlook the fact that the revival of interest in the poet has been accompanied to no small degree with a revival of what is perilously near pedantry, if not of pedantry itself. In more than one way is there danger of genuine literary appreciation of his writings being swamped in the attention paid to purely linguistic detail. There could be no more for- midable obstacle raised to the popularization of his po- etry than to require it to be pronounced according to the manner in which scholars, working, it is true, with imperfect appliances, have concluded that it must have been pronounced, and to insist that it is in this way only that it can be pronounced properly. That special stu- dents should be expected to master such a system arises from the necessity they lie under of keeping up with the results of the latest investigations. For any attempt to impose it upon the general body of cultivated men there is not the slightest justification. The literary study of Chaucer is one thing ; the lin- guistic study is quite another. Let us assume, what we can never know certainly, that we are able to pronounce his words exactly as he pronounced them himself. This would be an invaluable acquisition for the student of language, especially for the student of phonetics. It PRONUNCIATION OF CHAUCER 273 would not help him or any one else a jot or tittle tow- ards the appreciation of the beauty and power of Chau- cer’s poetry. For most men it would produce conse- quences quite the reverse. It would detract from the effect of his lines instead of adding to them. The latter result could be reached only in the case of the exceed- ingly few to whom this particular pronunciation had be- come so familiar that all impression of strangeness had been worn away by frequency of use. If in reading a sentence of any writer we are led to think not of what it means, but of how it sounds, we may be looking at it as a contribution to knowledge, but we are not really look- ing at it as literature, whatever may be the view we en- tertain of our own view. If a special student of Chau- cer enjoys his verse only when he pronounces it as he supposes the poet himself pronounced it, there is not the slightest need of his depriving himself of the gratifi- cation he derives from that source. But he has no right to insist that others shall be forced to follow in his foot- steps, and to feel that they are not making a genuine literary study of the author because they do not have the time to learn or the desire to adopt a pronuncia- tion the acquisition of which has been attended with no small labor to himself, and his practice of which is usually fraught with no small misery to others. There is in this matter no likeness to the question of the adoption of the pronunciation of Latin to which it has been sometimes compared. The position of the two tongues is essentially different. Latin in any pro- nunciation would be at first unfamiliar to the student. The choice of the one to be employed is therefore a III.— 18 274 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY matter to be decided on grounds of convenience or of scholarship. But we are born into a particular pronun- ciation of English. We have not adopted it, we have inherited it. We have heard it from earliest childhood, and manhood has strengthened the hold it has upon us. It had, in fact, become a part of our life before we were capable of reasoning whether it was in itself good or bad. The result is that English which is pronounced differently strikes us at the worst as uncouth or vulgar ; at the best, as odd or quaint. In the latter case a cer- tain interest of its own may attach to it, may in the instance of an ancient author enhance apparently his charm, if the difference does not affect perceptibly the ease of comprehension. But there it stops. If this dif- ference is made a matter to which supreme attention must be paid, the secret of literary enjoyment has been lost. The sign has taken the place of the thing signi- fied. We are diverted, we may occasionally be fasci- nated, by the strangeness of the sound ; but the quaint- ness of the attire makes us forget the sentiment which it was designed to clothe. The objections which have been raised to putting the writings of the poet into modern orthography, and pro- nouncing his words as far as possible according to mod- ern methods, seem to me particularly futile. Much more could be said against the proposition if we had Chau- cer’s works as they came direct from his own hand, and consequently represented his own spelling. As it is, wide variations in this respect not only exist between different manuscripts, but between the same words as found in different parts of the same manuscript. Famil- MODERNIZATION OF ORTHOGRAPHY 275 iarity with the ancient orthography has, however, bred among scholars something of that same unreasoning veneration for it which is displayed by educated men towards our modern orthography. Verses written in the spelling of a remote period are supposed by that very fact to retain a peculiar literary aroma which would be lost wholly, or in part, if they appeared in forms to which we are accustomed. There are, at least there seem to be, persons who fancy that not merely the fla- vor of antiquity, but the flavor of poetry, would disap- pear from Chaucer’s writings if, for illustration, words such as hevene^ crtJie^ fyr^ and teer should appear as heaven^ earthy fire^ and tear. We have been actually assured that a modern orthography transports us at once from the days of the Plantagenets.^ For those who feel in this way the ancient texts are always accessible. The spelling of our time may be thought sufficiently satis- factory by those who are not easily transported, or who do not care if they are transported. What appeals to such men is the purely literary aspect of poetry, inde- pendent of the time or place of its production. For it is to be borne in mind that in modernizing the spelling of Chaucer we are not meddling in the slightest with the integrity of his text ; we are not substituting other words for the words he wrote ; we are not making any modifications in his grammar. All that is essential to him as a man of letters continues to exist in any orthog- raphy that is adopted. . . We have been told, again, that with our modern Eng- lish method of pronunciation we should have an accent * Hippisley’s Early English Literatnre, p. 76. 2/6 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY that would fail to satisfy the poet’s ear ; that he would not be able to understand his own verse if he returned to earth ; that, in fact, it would strike him as something little better than gibberish/ To me it does not seem a matter of the slightest consequence whether, under such circumstances, he could understand it or not. In the first place, he is not going to return to earth. If he does, we may rest assured that he, a man of supremest common-sense, will at once proceed to learn the exist- ing pronunciation in order to hold communion with a hundred million of his fellow-creatures, and not ask them to set about acquiring the pronunciation of the four- teenth century to hold communion with him ; more es- pecially as the way that has been adopted to sound his words may turn out to be not much more intelligible to him than the way they are regularly sounded now. But as there is no prospect of his making his reappearance, it is only necessary to say that it is not his feelings that are to be consulted. In this matter we pay no heed to Shakspeare. Why should an exception be made in favor of Chaucer? No one asks whether a modern accent would satisfy the ear of the dramatist in case he re- turned to earth and took advantage of the occasion to listen to the acting of one of his own plays. This last comparison puts the case clearly before us. Our pronunciation would seem strange and frequently grotesque to Shakspeare. His would seem strange and occasionally vulgar to us. If his sublimest tragedies could be acted before a modern audience exactly as they were pronounced in his day, there is reason to be- ^ Ellis’s Early English Pi'ommciation^ part i., pp. 255 and 258. MODERNIZATION OF ORTHOGRAPHY 277 lieve that some of the most powerful passages they con- tain would have the effect of producing laughter rather than admiration or grief or horror. They would, at any rate, be largely shorn of their beauty and effectiveness. By a select circle of scholars, trained in the history of sounds, they might be enjoyed while the experiment had the interest of novelty. To the vast majority of any audience they would seem to take on the nature of trav- esty. Assuredly, the principal legitimate interest in them would be that of curiosity. While their perform- ance might serve as a contribution to knowledge, it would fail in the infinitely higher aim for which the work was written. We do not need to learn the way Shakspeare spelled his words to appreciate their signifi- cance, or the way he sounded them to feel their inspira- tion. What he has given us depends upon no such chances of change or accidents of circumstance. If the knowledge of his writings, if the recognition of his ge- nius, rested upon our familiarity with the orthography and pronunciation he employed, the influence of the serenest and stateliest spirit in all literature would be confined to a scanty number of men, many of whom would have no interest in him as a poet, but only as an authority upon phonetics. Remarks of the same general nature are true about Chaucer, though not to the same degree. Shakspeare’s lines can be accommodated in most instances to mod- ern ears with as much ease as if they had been written yesterday. In the case of the elder poet, however, there must be, under any circumstances, variations from mod- ern usage which the reader or hearer must be trained to 2/8 CHAUCER IN LITERARY HISTORY accept. For that very reason it is desirable to reduce these variations to the lowest possible limit that is con- sistent with the literary integrity of the text.' For the difference between the two authors in this matter is not a difference of kind. The method that has been applied to the one can be trusted to succeed safely with the other. It is upon his value as a man of letters, and not upon his linguistic value, that the fame of Chaucer must be established, if it is expected to attain breadth as well as permanence. The extent of his popularity will de- pend, in the long run, upon the degree to which he is made easily accessible to that vast body of men who will refuse to encounter the obstacles which they have been taught to consider as necessarily standing in the way of any proper comprehension of his writings. The greatest of stumbling-blocks in their pathway will have been removed when the poet has been released as far as possible from the bondage of an obsolete orthography. This is not to decry its value for special purposes. It is not to maintain that editions of the ancient texts will not always be needed, and will not always need to be studied. It is to insist that for the great body of even educated men they are not a necessity, and that, so far as these are concerned, they contribute nothing to the spread of the poet’s fame. The superstition of scholars may, and doubtless will, delay the time of Chaucer’s deliverance from this bond- age, but will not prevent its coming at last. It took a good deal more than a century to put his works into Roman type after the rest of our literature had aban- doned black-letter. We know what sorrow of heart that MODERNIZATION OF ORTHOGRAPHY 279 act brought to the antiquarian students of the age in which it was accomplished, who felt that, by making his writings more accessible in this way, a loftier scholarship had succumbed to the demands of a slothful and ease- loving generation. Nor need it be denied that loss of a certain kind there will be in putting Chaucer’s works into modern orthography. But whatever the loss, the gain will be far greater. It will be greater, too, in ways of which we can now but vaguely feel the importance. For as things are at present shaping themselves, there is dan- ger that the same fate is threatening the most famous of our early poets which has, in large measure, overtaken his Greek and Latin predecessors ; that to many the ulti- mate object of his existence will seem to have been for little other purpose than to make schoolboys miserable. Chaucer should, be saved from any such degradation. To us he should be made a delight and an inspiration, as he was to his contemporaries. There are plenty of early writers who can properly be made the subject of gram- matical training. From them the intricacies of syntax, the variations of inflection, the peculiarities of pronun- ciation, can be readily learned. But the study of a great English classic should be made primarily a literary one. Moreover, not even secondarily, but very remotely in- stead, should it be made a linguistic one. Any other course may, after a fashion, keep alive the poet ; but it will certainly be effective in destroying the poetry. VI IL CHAUCER AS A LITERARY ARTIST J CHAUCER AS A LITERARY ARTIST HE unhappy difference of opinion that prevails be- ^ tween authors and reviewers was not a result that followed from the invention of printing. The contro- versy is as old as literature itself. It need not be fancied that there was ever a time when depreciation did not flourish, because it is only in modern days that it has been in a position to leave behind memorials of its ex- istence. The critic was abroad long before the school- master. He was just as active in the fourteenth century as he is in the nineteenth. He was in the eyes of the author just as malignant then as now, though he had at that time no official organs in which to express his sen- timents, no periodical which could give the sanction of collective authority to his individual judgment. But he could make himself felt. Sometimes it was in heavy books. More often it was in slight pieces, copies of which would circulate from hand to hand in the small circle of which the reading world then consisted. If all other agencies failed, he could count pretty confidently on his words reaching the author through the never- failing medium of acquaintances and friends. The references to Chaucer that have come down to us from his own age and the age that immediately followed are indeed singularly unanimous in his praise. No dis- cordant voice breaks the note of approval which cele- 284 CHAUCER AS A LITERARY ARTIST brates him as the chief poet of Britain, as the great cre- ative spirit that had breathed into our literature the breath of life. But though disparagement failed even to perpetuate the remembrance of itself, there can be neither doubt of its existence nor of the favor with which it was received. Ill-natured criticism, whether it be just or unjust, will always be read or heard with pleasure by even good-natured men so long as envy, malice, and all uncharitableness are avenues to the hu- man heart. Posterity is inclined to remember the great writer only by his successes. Contemporaries never for- get to fix their attention upon his failures. Chaucer, we may be sure, had no different experience from all men of genius before or since his time. He had to encoun- ter the attacks of the bitter enemy, the condescending praise of the intellectual being too superior to find any- thing very admirable which others like enthusiastically, and, worse than all, he had to endure the guarded ap- proval of the candid friend. He has not, indeed, ex- pressed himself upon the subject ever present to the mind of the author with the wrath which marks the ut- terances of Spenser, Daniel, and Drayton. That was something which it was not in his nature to do, even had he suffered more keenly than they. But even if he was indifferent to the attacks made upon him, he was not unaware of their existence. On this point his writings furnish us a good deal of testimony of an indirect sort. In spite of the lack of recorded criticism, there is satisfactory evidence that the critic was known to Chaucer and recognized by him as a very positive entity. Illustrations of the fact are far CONTEMPORARY CRITICISM 285 from infrequent. In one place the poet anticipates and replies to a possible objector who might find fault with his representation of the suddenness with which Cressida is inspired with love for Troilus. It is in this way that he disposes of the cavil and the caviller : “ Now mighte some envious jangle thus : ‘This was a sudden love. How might it be That she so lightly^ loved Troilus Right for the firste sighte Yea, parde !’ Now who so sayeth, so mote he never thee!’^ For everything of ginning^ hath it need. Ere all be wrought withouten any drede.^ “For I say not that she so suddenly Gave him her love, but that she gan incline To like him first, and I have told you why; And after that his manhood and his pine^ Made love within her hearte for to mine : For which by process and by good service He gat her love, and in no sudden wise.” It will be noticed that in this passage not only does Chaucer very naturally, and from the author’s point of view very properly, represent the critic as jangling — that is, ‘ talking foolishly,’ which of course he always does — but he also stigmatizes him as inspired by envy, as of course he always is. It is not the poet’s only reference to the part this passion plays in affecting the judgment of men. At the conclusion of the short prefatory ad- dress to his son with which the treatise on the ‘Astro- labe ’ opens, he is careful to disavow any pretence that the work was original. One reason he gives for the ‘ Easily. ^ Thrive. ® Beginning. * Doubt. * Suffering. 286 CHAUCER AS A LITERARY ARTIST acknowledgment of his obligation to others suggests an atmosphere of detraction, the existence of which he does not assert. “ Consider well,” he writes, “ that I ne usurp not to have found this work of my labor or of mine en- gine.^ I ne am but a lewd compilatour'^ of the labor of old astrologians, and have it translated in mine English only for thy doctrine and with this sword shall I slay envy.” It is to be hoped, though it may reasonably be doubted, that his weapon effected the execution he desired. Nowhere, however, are the sentiments of Chaucer about himself and his own reputation so clearly indi- cated as in two passages of the ‘House of Fame’ — a work in which he has given us the directest if not the fullest revelation of his personal feelings and of his ways of looking at life. One of these is towards the end of the poem. Though to some extent obscure, it is suffi- ciently clear to show that Chaucer appreciated fully his own position in literature, and that he purposed to keep within his own breast his personal opinion about it as well as his personal grievances. At the temple of the goddess a stranger is represented by the poet as having accosted him in a friendly way, and as having asked him if he had come thither in order to secure fame for him- self. This is the answer given : “ ‘ Nay, for soothe, friend,’ quoth I, ‘ I came not thither, grant-mercy,^ For no such cause, by mine head! Sufficeth me, as I were dead. That no wight have my name in hand ; I wot myself best how I stand ; ^ Ingenuity. Ignorant compiler. ^ Instruction. ^ Thank you. CONTEMPORARY CRITICISM 287 For what I dree* or what I think, I will myselven all it drink, Certainly for the more part, 531; R. Wharton’s modernization of, iii. 205 ; Horne’s modernization of, iii. 217, 218 ; Chaucer’s literary art as seen in, iii. 326, 339, 367, 370, 379. Frederick, Prince of Wales, i. 296. French words, Chaucer’s al- leged introduction of, ii. 438-446. INDEX 473 French writers, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 206-223. Friar’s tale. The, literary tests illustrated from, ii. 1 14, 143, 145, 149; its reference to Dante and Virgil, ii. 236 ; Markland’s modernization of, iii. 190, 223 ; Hunt’s modernization of, iii. 217. Froissart, Sir John, on matters connected with Chaucer’s career, i. 56, 69, 152; mention of Retters, iii. 452 ; Eclympasteyre, i. 245 ; Le Paradis d’ Amour, iii. 13 ; allusion, i. 83. Fuller, Dr. Thomas, on events in Chaucer’s life, i. 1 50, 162 ; sketches of Chaucer in Church History and Worthies of England, i. 159 ; on Verstegan’s statement, ii. 441. Furnivall, Dr. Frederick James, facts discovered by, i. 13, 80 n. ; on Occleve’s portrait of Chau- cer, i. 50 ; labors of, i. 1 18 ; quoted, i. 119; cited, i. 267 n. ; founder of Chaucer Society, i. 340; reference to opinion of, i. 460 n. ; Temporary Preface cited, ii. 226 n. ; Trial Forewords to Minor Texts cited, ii. 432 n. ; Odd Texts of the Minor Poems, iii. 310 ; recent discovery by, iii. 31 1 n. ; acknowledgment to. Intro- duction, xxvii. Galen, medical writer, ii- 393- Gallicisms in Chaucer’s un- doubted writings and in Romance of the Rose, ii. 51, 52,446. Gamelin, The Tale of (No. 66), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Urry, i. 289, 447 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 476 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; Boyse’s modernization of, iii. 190. Gascoigne, George, versification of Chaucer, i. 332, iii. 52; on ‘ riding ryme,’ iii. 305. Gascoigne, Thomas, i. 107 ff. Gawain, Romance of, ii. 196. Gay, John, his imitations of Chaucer, iii. 120, 125 ; use of obsolete words, iii. 152 ; comedy of the Wife of Bath, iii. 234. Gedney, John, succeeds Chaucer as clerk of the works, i. 85. Gemmis, De. (See Marbodusi) Geiiealogia Deormn, De. (See Boccaccio.) Geriilon, ii. 304. Gentilesse (No. 28), printed before 1532, i.429; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433, 439; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Gentleman’s Magazine, The, i. 176 n., 310, 311, iii. 129, 157, 194, 201. Genuine works of Chaucer, List of, as classed in this work, i. 504 n. Geoffrey of Monmouth, Hist or ia Britomcm, ii. 3 1 5-3 1 7. 474 INDEX Gesenius, Friedrich Wilhelm, on Chaucer’s language, i. 336. Gesta Roma7^oru7n, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and supposed obligations to, ii. 317-320, 386 n., iii. 415. ‘ Gestes' Chaucer’s criticism of the, iii. 330-332. Gildon, Charles, obsoleteness of Shakspeare’s language, iii. 151. Gilfillan, Rev. George, edition of Canterbury Tales with modernized spelling, iii. 270, 271. Gilm.an, Arthur, edition of Chaucer’s works cited, ii. 6 n., 21 n., 22 n., 148, 499 n. Glenbervie, Lord, i. 322. Glover, Robert, i. 99, 104, 106, III, 154. Glynn, Dr. Robert, i. 173 n. Godfray, Thomas, i. 146, 265,431,436. Godwin, William, his life of Chaucer, and refer- ences to, i. 18, 20, 23, 58, 96, 99, 1 18, 191-198 ; his love-suit theory, i. 59, 97, 21 1-213 ; on The Flower and the Leaf, i. 494. ‘ God wot,’ ‘ God it wot,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 99, 549. 550- ‘ Go forth, king, rule thee by sapience ’ (No. 33), named in Thynne’s list, i. 433; assigned to Lydgate, i. 482 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Golden Legend, The, ii. 320-322. Goldsmith, Oliver, his remark about Drayton, value of, iii. 113 ; allusion, i. 27. Good Counsel of Chaucer (No. 30), its asserted composition on his death-bed, i. 362-364 ; printed before 1 532, i. 429 ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; its reference to a passage in Boethius, ii. 120 ; Harte’s modernization of, iii. 200. Goodly Ballade of Chaucer, A (No. 6), named in Thynne’s list, i. 431 ; the question of its genuine- ness, i. 479 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Gospel of St. Mark, Chaucer’s error in quotation of, ii. 186. ‘ Goth,’ as an epithet in the eighteenth century, iii. 250, 251. Gower, John, his reference to Chaucer, i. 43-48, 201, 358, 480, ii. 426, iii. 10, 336 ; Chaucer leaves letter of at- torney to, i. 70 ; Leland’s view of, i. 134-136, 143, 147-149. ii- 433; his address to Henry IV., i. 431,433,438; illustrations from his writ- ings, of the tests of genu- ineness, i. 374, 375, 378, 381, 389, 390, 405, 408, 500, ii. 33, 45 n., 48 ff, 60 n., 64, 72, 77, 86, 100, 105 ff, 137, 138, 156, 540 ff ; of the inaccuracy of his schol- arship, ii. 189, 190 ; certain of the books and au- thors used or named by, ii. 210, 232, 269, 270, 320, 347, 1 392; INDEX 475 languages used by, ii. 454, 458; opinions of, ii. 468, 476, 501 ; in literary history, iii. 31, 32, 60, 66, 67, 70,71, 1 19; Chaucer’s supposed criticism of, iii. 354; his literary art, iii. 301, 378, 417; allusions, i. 83, 91, 280, 359, 360, 491, ii. 170. Grammar as a test of genuine- ness, i. 369, 370, 380, 399-406, 498- 501, ii. 65-77, 1 17, 1 18. Grammatical ryming tests, i- 375. 376, 399-406, ii. 65-72. Granson or Gransoun, Sir Otes de, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, i. 40, 41, ii. 207, iii. 423, 450; R. Bell’s error as to, iii. 220. Gray, Thomas, on versification of Chaucer, i. 300: on Lydgate, iii. 26 ; an anachronism of, iii. 387 ; allusions, i. 167, ii. 448, iii. 126, 239 - Gray, William, date of Chaucer’s birth, i. 17 n. Greek, Chaucer’s ignorance of, ii. 192, 193, 387. Gregory, Saint, ii. 388. Griselda, The Patient, ii. 231, iii. 340-344- (See The Clerk of Oxford's talel) Grosart’s Works of Spenser, cited, iii. 59 n. Grosvenor, Mr., his modernization of the Sum- moner’s tale, iii. 190, 191. Grosvenor, Sir Robert, controversy of, with .Sir Rich- ard le Scrope, i. 18, 188. Gualtier de Lille, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 352-355, 419; Alexandrzs, szve Gesta Alex- andri Magnz, ii. 353, 412 n. Guido da Colonna, Latin translation of Benoit’s Roman de Troye, i. 303, 304, ii. 309 ff, iii. 394. Guiot de Provins, his Bible, ii. 222, 223. Guy, Sir, romance of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 201. Hadrian, Emperor, interview with the philoso- pher Secundus, ii. 379, 380. Hales, John Wesley, i. 74 n., 108 n. Halsam, i. 451. Hamilton, Walter, i. 175. Hampole, Richard Rolle de, Prick of Conscience, i. 48, 49, 334. ii. 331- Harrington, James, ii. 444. Harrison, William, condemns modernization of Chaucer, iii. 106, 109, 258. Harte, Walter, on change in language, iii. 144, 145 ; modernizes ‘ Flee from the press,’ iii. 200 ; allusion, iii. 186. Harvey, Gabriel, iii. 58. Haughton, William, one of the writers of the play of Patient Grissill, iii. 69. Haweis, Mrs. H. R., i. 105 n., 106 n. Hawes, Stephen, praise of Lydgate, iii. 32 ; Pastime of Pleasure, metre of, iii. 305. 4/6 INDEX Hawkins’s Life of Johnson, cited, i. 299 n. Hawkwood, Sir John, Chaucer’s mission to, i. 70. Hearne, Thomas, on parentage of Chaucer, i. 161 ; on editions of Chaucer, i. 282, iii, 242 ; on Urry’s plan, i. 289, 293, 294; on language of Chaucer, ii. 441 ; allusion, iii. 151. Hebraic element in modern civilization. The Puritans representatives of, iii. 38. Hellenic element in modern civilization, Chaucer as representative of, iii. 38. Heloise, ii. 289, 290. Henry IV. (See Henry of Lancaster.) Henry V., holograph letter of, to Henry IV., i. 105 ; Campsall text of Troilus and Cressida made for, i. 240, 341. Henry VHI., commission of, to Leland, i. 142: Tuke’s dedicatory epistle to, i. 266, ii. 169 ; exempts works of Chaucer and Gower from operation of Act of Parliament, ii. 476; as a Reformer, iii. 39. Henry of Lancaster (Henry IV.), Gower’s reference to, i. 45 ff ; counsellor to Richard IL, i. 84; his friendliness to Chaucer, i. 89, 90, 141 ; the Knight a possible por- trait of, i. 91 ff : allusion, i. 1 10. Henryson, Robert, his Testament of Cressida, i. 460, 474, iii. 20 ; admiration for Chaucer, iii. 16. Henslowe, Philip, Diary of, cited, iii. 68. Hercules, The Story of, ii. 184. Here and there, Ryming of, as a test of genuineness, ii. 17-19. Heredity, The doctrine of, ii. 529. ' Hermes Trismegistus, ii. 392. Heroic verse, iii. 301-304, 306. (See Conplett) Hertzberg, Wilhelm, denies genuineness of the Testament of Love, i. 200- 204. Heyrouns, vintners, i. 13, 14. Heywood, John, indebtedness to Chaucer, iii. 69. Hindley, Rev. J. H., iii. 81. Hippisley’s Chapters on Early English Literature cited, iii. 66, 275. Hippocrates, medical writer, ii. 393. Historia Britojiitm. (See Geoffrey of Mo 7 i 77 iout Jit) Historia Lo 77 ibardzca. (See Legenda Aurea'.) Historia M iscella , Chaucer’s possible knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 385^ 386. Historia Scholastica. (See Peter Co 77 iestor.) Historical novel, and truth of fact, iii. 389. History, Literary, Chaucer in, (See Table of Co 7 ite 7 its, chap, viii) INDEX 477 Homer, Chaucer's ignorance of, in the original, ii. 193, 258 ; mention of, in connection with the Trojan Legend, i. 304, ii. 305, 308,314; allusions, i. 137, ii. 293, 354, 429, iii. 28, 42, 91, 157, 159, 231, 362. Homes of Chaucer, Known : household of Prince Lionel, i. 54 .ii. 47 , 76 ; dwelling-house at Aldgate, i. 73 5 tenement in Westminster, i. 93; Homes of Chaucer, Supposed : John Chaucer’s house in Thames Street, i. 14; Woodstock, i. 103, 141, 175- 177; Donnington Castle, i. 103, 178-180; New Elme, i. 102, 178 ; at confluence of the Thame and the Isis, i. 178. Honor without the n, iii. 266. Horace, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 261- 264; Poetic Art, ii. 261, 262 ; Epistle to Lollius, ii. 409, 410 ; allusions, iii. 26, 102, 235, 441. Horn Childe, romance of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 201. Horne, Richard Hengist, edits the last of the moderni- zations of Chaucer, iii. 217 ff. Horner, Francis, i. 194. Horstmann, Carl, edition of The Early South- English Legendary cited, i. ^ 499 n. House, Chaucer’s, i. 175, 176. House of Fame (No. 19), autobiographic material in, i. 33, 34, 1 12, 215 ; mentioned by Leland, i. 140 ; number of manuscripts of, i. 239, 262 ; textual errors illustrated from, i. 245 ; printed by Caxton, i. 265 ; Bell’s annotation of, i. 326 ; named in the Legend of Good Women, i. 412 ; named in the Retractation, i. 413: . named in Thynne’s list, i. 432 ; not named in Lydgate’s list, i. 422 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 387, 389, 409, ii. 22, 30, 31, 34, 45 n., 49. 50^ 7 L 73. 1 14. 1 1 5. 127, 128, 132, 133, 140, 143, 145, 146, 149, 150, 152 ; illustrations from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 180, 183, 184, 188, 205 ; its reference to Chaucer’s love of books, ii. 198 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 120, 214, 236, 238, 240, 242-248, 250, 252, 254, 255, 258, 279, 303, 308, 314, 316, 343, 350, 355, 358, 363, 381, 386, 390, 407, 410, iii. 397, 426 ; praised by Hawes, iii. 32 ; modernization of, by Pope, iii. 182, 200 ; Warton on, iii. 248 ; Chaucer’s literary art and at- titude towards criticism, as seen in, ii. 105, iii. 286-288, 306, 320, 368 ; incompleteness of, iii. 431, 437 , 438- Howitt, Mary, iii. 214. 478 INDEX Hughes, Mr. John, offended, iii. 361. Humorous Tales, The, in liter- ary history, iii. 358-363 ; their excellence, iii. 363, 364. Hunt, Leigh, modernizations of Chaucer, iii. 208, 210-212 ; joins in the last of the mod- ernizations, iii. 214-229. Hunter, Mr., on the seal of Chaucer, i. 106. Hurd, Bishop, i. 325, iii. 243. Hyginus, Chaucer’s possible obligation to, ii. 287. Hypermnestra, The Story of, ii. 232. Hypsypile, The Story of, ii- 251, 313. ‘ I have a lady, whereso she be ’ (No. 55), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by F. Thynne, i. 457 ; by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ‘I undertake,’ ‘I dare say,’ ‘I dare tell,’ ‘ I guess,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 98, . 99. 548, 549 - Imitations of Chaucer, by Froissart, iii. 13; by early Scotch poets, iii. 18- 22 • by Spenser, iii. 45, 56 ; by seventeenth-century writ- ers, iii. 1 13-1 19 ; by eighteenth - century writ- ers, iii. 1 19-132, 183. Imprisonment of Chaucer, Legend of, i. 180-200. ‘In the season of Feverere ’ (No. 52), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ‘ In womanhead, as authors all write’ (No. 59), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 441 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Incompleteness of Chaucer’s works, iii. 430-439- Innocent III., De Co 7 itej 7 iptu Mtmdi cited, i. 49, ii. 366 ; Chaucer’s translations from, i. 412, 423, 426, 427, ii. 296, 329-334. 388. Inspired - barbarian view of Chaucer, iii. 248, 293-298, 375. Invention, sphere of, iii. 399-401 ; not the necessary accompa- niment of genius, iii. 402, 403; of tales, iii. 414-416, 426. Ira, De. (See Se 7 teca.) Irrelevant learning, Chaucer’s intrusion of, iii. 364-375- Irreverence of Chaucer’s age, ii. 505, 506. Isabella, Queen Dowager, Funeral of, i. 54. Isidore, ii. 388. Isis, the Temple of, Chaucer’s blunder as to, ii. 183. Isle of Ladies, The. (See Drea 77 i, Chaucers.') INDEX 479 ‘ It cometh by kind of gentle blood ’ (No. 40), named in Thynne’s list, i. 434; not mentioned by Tyrwhitt, i. 478; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ‘ It falleth for a gentleman ’ (No. 39), named in Thynne’s list, i. 434 ; not mentioned by Tyrwhitt, i. 478; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Italian writers, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 223-249. lulus, Chaucer’s mistake as to, ii. 184. ‘ Iwis,’ use of the word, as a test of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 90, 102, 539. Jack Upland, The Tale of (No. 65). added to list of Chaucer’s works by Stow, i. 443 ; the question of its genuine- ness, i. 188, 461 n., 476 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n, ; favorably regarded by six- teenth - century reformers, ii. 462. Jacob, Giles, Lives of the English Poets cited, i. 1 59, 186. Jacobus de Voragine, author of the Legeiida Aurca, ii. 320. James I. of Scotland, i. 500, iii. 18, 19, 304. James, Francis, his imitations of Chaucer, iii. 1 15, 1 16. Jeffrey, Francis, i. 194. Jephson, Rev. John Mounteney, i. 325. Jerome, Saint, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, i. 307, 308 n., ii. 276, 290, 292-297, 388 ; Treatise against Jovinian, ii. 292 ff, 337, 364, 366, 379, 416, 524, 528. Jews, Chaucer’s attitude towards, as seen in the Prioress’s tale, ii. 490. J. H., Advertisement to the Read- er, in reprint of 1687, iii. 92. Joab, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 188. John of Gaunt, his grant to Chaucer, i. 63 ; expedition to Spain, i. 81 ; return to England, i. 92 ; question of Chaucer’s connec- tion with, by marriage, i. 98, HI, 153; payment by, in behalf of Eliza- beth Chaucer, i. 100 ; arms on Thomas Chaucer’s tomb, i. 105 ; Chaucer attached to party of, i. 189 ; courtship and marriage of, i. 21 1 : protector of Wycliffe, ii. 478 ; allusions, i. 21, 26, 54, 96, 483. John of Northampton, i. 189, 196. John of Salisbury, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 362-364 ; Polycratzcus, ii. 359, 362 ff, 372. Johnson, Samuel, makes Chaucer a disciple of Gower, i. 148, 149 ; edition of Chaucer contem- plated by, i. 298, 299 ; on Chaucer’s introduction of French words, ii. 445 ; his criticism of Dryden, iii. 103, 232 ; INDEX 480 on Pope’s modernization of The House of Fame, iii. 184 ; on Milton’s anachronisms, iii. 386; allusions, i. 7, 27, ii. 444, iii, 186, 248. Joly, A., Benoit de Sainte-More et Le Roman de Troie, cited, i. 303. ii- 312. Jonson, Ben, first poet-laureate, i. 174; on observance of unities of time and place, iii. 47 ; his criticism of Spenser, iii. 61, 62, 64 ; allusions, i. 334, iii. 1 17. Joseph of Arimathea, i. 132. Josephus, Chaucer’s ignorance of, in the original, ii. 258, 387. Jovius, Paulus, i. 157. Judas Maccabeus, story of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 303- Jitgemen du Bon Rot de Be- haigne. (See Machault?) Junius, Francis, unpublished notes on Chau- cer, i. 281. Juvenal, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 260, 261, 419 ; allusion, iii. 102. Keats, John, i. 489, ii. 191. Keightley, Thomas, on invention of the Squire’s tale, iii. 426. Kele, Richard, publisher, i, 269. Kenelm, Legend of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 326-328. Kinaston, Sir Francis, on the authorship of The Testament of Cressida, i. 460 ; his Latin translation of Troi- lus and Cressida, iii. 76-82, 84, 92, 104, 1 1 5, 1 1 7, 154; opposed to modernization of Chaucer, iii. 105, 106. Kissner, Alfons, ii. 204. Knight of the shire. Qualifica- tions for, i. 81. Knighthood attributed to Chau- cer, i. 1 50-152, 163. Knight’s tale. The, a paraphrase, i. 206 ; illustrations from, of textual errors, i. 241, 279, 345 ; named in the Legend of Good Women, i. 412 ; imitated in the Complaint of a Lover’s Life, i. 481 ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 376, 392, 403, ii. 34, 43, 45 n., 74, 84, 1 14 ff, 122, 124, 127 ff, 135, 139, 140, 142, 146 ff, 150, 151 ; illustration from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 183 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 204, 219, 225 ff, 233, 239, 252, 381 ; Chaucer’s opinions as shown in, ii. 481, 513, 516, 531 ; in literary history, iii. 20 n., 67, 68, 248 ; Dryden’s modernization of, iii. 160, 162, 164-175, 189, 231 ; Thurlow’s modernization of, iii. 203, 208 ; Horne’s modernization of por- tions of, iii. 225 ; Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 328,355,372, 374, 376, 377 , 443 - INDEX Koeppel, Emil, cited, ii. 271 n., 333 n., 384. Kolbing in E 7 iglzsche Stiidien, ii. 324 n. Lai dll Trot, iii. 409. Lamb, Charles, on Godwin’s conjecturing spirit, i. 195. Lamech, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 188. Lamentation of Mary Magda- len, The (No. 21), mentioned by Leland, i. 140; named in Thynne’s list, i. 432: printed by Pynson, i. 435 ; the question of its genuine- ness, i. 475, 478 ; included in R. Bell’s edition, i. 478 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Lampridius, .^Elius, ii. 406. Lancelot de Lake, Romance of, ii. 304, 316, 368, 497. Landor, Walter Savage, on Wordsworth, iii. 209 ; declines to join in the new scheme of modernization of Chaucer, iii. 214, 215 221; allusions, iii. 252, 264. Langland, William, three texts of Piers the Plow- man, i. 236 ; his versification and gram- mar, i. 333, 500, iii. 299; character of his vocabulary, ii. 450 ff ; attachment to the established faith, ii. 468, 495 ; his attitude towards alchemy, ii. 501 ; diction and literary methods, iii. 60, 61, 440 ; allusions, i. 1 16, iii. 261. Language of Chaucer, perils to the text from ignor- ance of, i. 248, 251-253 ; III.— 31 481 Urry’s views on, i. 285-288 ; Morell’s, i. 29.7, 298 ; Johnson’s, i. 299 ; Gray’s, i. 300 ; Tyrwhitt’s, i. 306 ; Wright’s, i. 316, 317-319 ; Southey’s, i. 330, 335 ; Nott’s, i. 332 ; Prof. Child’s examination of, i- 335-339; as affected by Chaucer’s resi- dence in the North, ii. 46- 49.55.56,76; its relations to the English language, ii. 430-458 ; assumed obsoleteness of, iii. 78, 80, 1 34-140 ; eighteenth - century miscon- ceptions of, iii. 124 ; naturalness of, iii. 440-443. ( See Dialect ; Grammar ; Grammatical Rymiiig Tests; Ryme.) Language, Chaucer’s Relations to. (See Table of Contents, chap, vil) Languages, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 192, 193, 202-206. Laodamia, i. 417, ii. 258, 293. Lapidarius of Marbodus, ii. 343, 344. Latham, R. G.. on Lollius, ii. 409. Latin authors, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249-288. Latin translation, Kinaston’s, of the Troilus and Cressida, iii. 76-82. Latin translations, value of, iii. 82-84. Laureateship of Chaucer, Sup- posed, i. 63, 152, 174, 175. Lans Serence. (See Claudianl) 482 INDEX “ Learned Chaucer,” ii. 171, iii. 94. Learning of Chaucer, The. (See Table of Contents, chap. V.) Learning, Signification of, ii. 1 74-1 77. Leaulte Vault Richesse (No. 74), added to lis-t of Chaucer’s poems by Morris, i. 451 : classed in this work, i. 504 n. Lechler, Gotthard, on Chaucer’s attitude towards Wycliffe, ii. 461. Leconfield, Lord, i. 340. Legend, The Chaucer. (See Table of Contents, chap. 7/.) Legend of Good Women, The (No. 5), autobiographic material in, i. 34,35. 358, 488, 490, 49L493, 111. 336; mentioned by Leland, i. 139; two prologues of, i. 250; illustrations from, of textual errors, i. 260, 261, 338 ; Scotch manuscript of, i. 371 ; its list of Chaucer’s works, i. 411,412, 424, 475; named in the Retractation, i. 413,414; named in the Man of Law’s tale, i. 416-418 ; named in Lydgate’s list, i. 421; named in Thynne’s list, i. 431 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 387, 403, 405,408, ii. 23, 30, 73, 85, 95, 1 14, 1 1 5, 1 1 7, 124, 126, 129, 131, 134, 140 ff, 144, 145, 147 ff, 155; illustrations from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 185, 187 ; its reference to Chaucer’s love of books and of nature, ii. 199; books and authors used or named in, ii. 220, 231, 232, 236, 240, 250, 251, 257, 259, 276, 280, 288, 294, 297, 314, 375, 387, 400; Chaucer’s opinions as shown in, ii. 502, 508, 510, 512 ; prologue of, imitated by Doug- las, iii. 21 ; praised by Hawes, iii. 32 ; Powell’s modernization of, iii. 217 ; Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 335-339, 369, 379, 403 ; incompleteness of, iii. 431. Legend of the Saints of Cupid, The, identical with The Legend of Good Women, i. 417, 418. Lege 7 ida Aurea, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 320-322. Leicester, Earl of, opposes the modernization of Chaucer, iii. 102, 105, 106 ; induces Cowley to read Chau- cer, iii. 104. Leland, John, his life of Chaucer, and refer- ences to, i. 15, 131-149, 152, 153, 158, 160, 161, 164, 167, 171, 172, 177, 266 n., 267, ii. 169, 432, 463, iii. 35, 406; his list of Chaucer’s works, i. 456, 468. L’Estrange, Rev. A. G. K., on wit and humor of Chaucer, iii. 290. Letter of Cupid, The (No. 25), mentioned by Leland, i. 140; Bale’s reference to, i. 149; Oldys’s reference to, i. 150 n. ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433 ; assigned to Occleve, i. 457 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; literary merits of, iii. 24. INDEX 483 Leyden, John, first to print Orison to the Holy Virgin, i. 449, 450. Leyser, Polykarp, Historia Poetarum et Poema- tum Medii PEvi cited, ii. 342 n. Liberal, The, iii. 211. Liber de Amore, &^e., Liber Cojisolatioiiis et Consilii. (See Albertajio da Brescia.) Liber de Montibus, Sylvis, &-^c. (See Boccaccioi) Lichfield, Bishop of, ii. 326. Life, Duration of, in the Middle Ages, i. 48, 49. Life of Chaucer, The. (See Table of Contents, chaf. ii) Lindner, F., in Etiglische Stu- dien, cited, ii. ii. Lintot, Bernard, i. 290 ff. Lionel of Antwerp, Duke of Clarence, Chaucer in the household of, i. 20, 21, 28 ff, 53, 86, ii. 48 ; second marriage of, i. 1 57. Lipscomb, Rev. William, his modernizations of Chau- cer, iii. 197-200, 202, 223. Literary controversies in the sixteenth century as related to Chaucer, iii. 46-65. Literary tests of genuineness as applied to Romance of the Rose, ii. 78-158 ; general nature of the transla- tion, ii. 78-86 ; distinctive forms of expres- sion comm.on to Chaucer and the translator of the Roniaii de la Rose, ii. 86- 121 ; parallelisms identifying the two, ii. 121-1 53 ; a use of synonyms common to the two, ii. 153-158. Literature, as a check upon linguistic change, iii. 149; Chaucer’s attitude towards, iii. 323-344. Lives of the Saints, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 322-329 ; a favorite kind of reading in the Middle Ages, ii. 322 ; general character of, illustrat- ed, ii. 487-489. Livy, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 257, 265, 276, 278-284, 285 ; story of Lucrece, ii. 279, 280 ; story of Virginia, ii. 279, 281, 285 ; not referred to by Vincent of Beauvais, ii. 378. Lloyd, Robert, on the rudeness of Chaucer’s verse, iii. 257. ‘ Lo !’ frequency of its occurrence in Chaucer, ii. 90. Lollardy, the new sect of, Gower’s denunciation of, ii. 468. Lollius, unknown author, ii. 225, 233, 234, 236, 405-41 1, 413-415. iii. 405. London Magazine, The, i. 310. ‘ Look well about, ye that lovers be ’ (No. 57), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; attributed to Lydgate, i.475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Lorens, Frere, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 2 1 1 , 2 1 2 ; La Somme de Vices et de Ver- tus, ii. 21 1. Lords, Guillaume de, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 6, 7, 218, 220, iii. 41 1. 484 INDEX Louis XI. of France, his belief in judicial astrology, ii. 497. Love-poetry, conventionality in expression of, i. 216, 217 ; of the sixteenth century, i. 218-220 ; Chaucer’s shorter pieces of, i. 358-361,364; his manner in, i. 488. Love-suit, Chaucer’s supposed, i. 59, 60, 21 1-22 1. Lover’s Life, The Complaint of a. (See Black Knight, The Com- piaiitt of the.) Lowndes’ Bibliographer’s Man- ual, i. 297. Lucan, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 253, 254,255,258, 274,419; Pharsalia, ii. 253, 254. allusions, ii. 256, 354. Lucilius, allusion, iii. 102. Lucretia, The Story of, i. 261, ii. 187, 251, 257, 279, 293, 297, iii. 12, 379. Lucretius, Chaucer’s probable ignorance of, iii. 405. Lybeaus Disconus, Romance of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 201. Lycurgus, Gower’s error as to, ii. 190. Lydgate, John, his mention of Thomas Chau- cer, i. 109 ; list of Chaucer’s works, and references to, i. 201, 358, 419-422, 423, 425, 429, 488, ii. 4, 243, 510 ; poems of, included in some editions of Chaucer’s works, i. 438, 441, 445, 447, 448; poems in Chaucer’s wcnrks as- signed to, i. 451, 456, 474, 475, 481, 482, 485; his grammar and versifica- tion, i. 500, iii. 304; his translation of Boccaccio’s Fall of Princes, ii. 159, iii. 394; inaccuracy of his learning il- lustrated, ii. 190; Sandras’s statement concern- ing, ii. 234; his mention of ‘Trophe,’ ii. 408 ; on Chaucer and the language, ii. 432; in literary history of Chaucer, iii. II, 12, 23, 25-27, 28, 31 ; diction of, iii. 60, 61 ; allusions, ii. 361, iii. 394. Lyndesay, Sir David, praise of Chaucer, iii. 16. Lynne, Nicholas, mathemati- cian, i. 134, 145. ii. 399. Macer, ^milius, iii. 378. Machault, Guillaume de, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, i. 423, ii. 212- 215; Dit du Lion, i. 423, ii. 214 ; Dit dit Rente de de Fortune, ii. 213 ; Dit de la Fontaine Anioreuse, ii. 213, 214 ; Jttgenien du Bon Roi de Be- haigtie, ii. 213 ; Sandras’s view of Chaucer’s indebtedness to, iii. 409 ff. Macrobius, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 180, 249, 265, 272, 277, 278 ; Conimentarius ex Cicerone m ' Somtiiuni Scifionis, ii. 277. Magdalene, Mary, Homily upon. (See Ortgen.) INDEX 485 Mai, Angelo, ii. 277. Malone, Edmund, his Life of Dryden cited, ii. 497 n., iii. 87 n., loi, 159 ; on the diction of Spenser, iii. 64, 65. Man of Law’s tale. The, autobiographic material in, i. 21, 31 ; textual errors illustrated from, i. 278, 279 ; its list of Chaucer’s works, i. 416-418, 424 ; the tests of genuineness illus- trated from, i. 403, ii. 21, 54, 72, 1 14, 1 18, 129,145,147,148; books and authors used or named in, i. 426, 427, ii. 210, 254, 268, 318, 319, 321, 331, 385, 394 n., 396, 414; Chaucer’s opinions as shown in, ii. 485, 489, 491, 498 ; Brooke’s modernization of, iii. 190, 194; Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 354; its want of relation to narra- tor, iii. 436. Manciple’s tale. The, illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, ii. 30, 62, 85, 1 1 5 n., 129, 130, 145, 148, 149, 155; illustration from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 421 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 219, 261, 269, 359. 367 ; Wordsworth’s modernization of, iii. 210, 227 ; Hunt’s modernization of, iii. 217. Mann, Sir Horace, iii. 152. Mansor Aphorison, ii. 415. Manuscript, perils of transmission by, i. 228-238, 357; test of genuineness, and rec- ord of authorities often furnished by, i. 368. Manuscripts of Chaucer’s works, age, number, and value of, i. 239, 240, 262, 340; errors of, i. 241-247. 251- 253; variations of, due to Chaucer himself,;. 248, 250; " alterations of the text in, by scribes, i. 253-258 ; trustworthiness of some, i. 259; Thynne’s search for, i. 266, 267 ; ^Campsall MS., i. 240, 340 ; ^ Caxton MSS., i. 242, 263; “ Examinatur Chaucer” MS., i. 266; Cambridge, i. 257 n., 308, 340, 399. 403 ; Ellesmere, i. 278, 308 n., 324, -540, ii. 45 n., 412 n., 414, 415; Hengwrt, i. 308 n., 340, ii. 412 ' n.,414; Harleian, i. 257, 308 n., 315, 316, 318, 320, 322 ff, 327, 328, 337, 338, 340, 398, 399, 403, 447, ii- 42 ; Lansdowne, i. 323 ; Petworth, i. 340, 403 ; Oxford, i. 340 ; British Museum, i. 340 ; loss of, i. 357-359; Scotch MS. of The Legend of Good Women, i. 371 ; Romance of the Rose MS., ii. 10, 59;__ Fairfax, ii. 73. (See Collatio 7 i of Maimscripts?) Mapes, Walter, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 367-370; Valerius ad Rufinum de 71071 Duce 7 ida Uxore, ii. 368 ; De Nttg is Curialiimi, ii. 359 n., 369- (See Valery) 486 INDEX Marbodus, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 343, 344, 419; De Ge 7 m 7 iis, ii. 343. March, Earl of, appoints Chaucer forester to North Petherton Park, i. 86. Marcia Catoun, ii. 294. Mari, John de, commissioner, i. 66. Marie of France, ii. 21 5, iii. 409. Markland, Jeremiah, his modernization of the Friar’s tale, iii, 190, 191, 223. Marlowe, Christopher, the perfecter of blank verse, iii. 48 ; allusion, iii. 44. Marriage and married life of Chaucer, i. 95-98, 112-115. Mars, The Complaint of (No. 23)- Leland’s mention of, i. 140; termed Brooch of Vulcan in Lydgate’s list, i. 421, 425 ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433 ; classed in this w^ork, i. 504 n. ; the tests of genuineness illus- trated from, i. 392, 404, ii. 148 ; sources of, ii. 253, iii. 451 ; R. Bell’s modernization of, iii. 217 ; versification of, iii. 308. Marsh, George P., Origin and History of the English Language cited, ii. 9, 1 1 8 ; on the language of Chaucer and Langland, ii. 451, 452 ; comparison between reputa- tions of Chaucer and Gow- er, iii. 66, 67. Marshall, Rev. Edward, i. 175 n. Marsyas, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 183. Marteau and Croissandeau, edition of the Ro 7 na 7 i de la Rose, ii. 5 n., 9 n. Martianus Capella, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 350, 355- 358,419; De Niiptus PhilologicB et Me 7 '- curii, ii. 356. Mason, George, edits some of Occleve’s poems, iii. 24. Mason, William, Isis, an Elegy, i. 168 ; his imitation of Chaucer, iii. 126-130 ; Walpole’s letter to, iii. 158. Matr 177107110 , De. (See Senecal) Medea, The Story of, i. 418, ii. 314. Mediaeval works and authors, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 301-386, 417 ff. Medical literature, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 393 - 395 - Megacos 77 ios. (See BerTtardiis Silvestrisl) Meister, Ferdinand, edition of Dares Phrygius, ii. 260. Melibee et de Da 77 ie Prude 7 ice, Le Livre de. (See Meu 77 g,Jea 7 i del) Melibeus, The tale of, its prose, i. 205 ; textual errors illustrated from, i. 319. 321 ; named in Lydgate’s list, i. 421; the tests of genuineness illus- trated from, ii. 23, 149, 155 ; books and authors used or named in, i. 321, ii. 210, 384, 388; INDEX 487 Lipscomb’s modernization of, iii. 198. Mena, Juan de, Chaucer claimed to be an im- itator of, iii. 406. Mennis, Sir John, admiration for Chaucer, iii. 85,87,88; imitations of Chaucer, iii. 118. Meon, Dominique Martin, edition of the Roman de la Rose, ii. 5 n., 9 n., 221 n. Merchant’s tale. The, the tests of genuineness illus- trated from, ii. 114 n., 130, 132, 140, 142, 143, 144 ff; books and authors used or named in, ii. 218, 228, 255, 270, 271, 295, 318, 319, 356, 360, 366, 374, .384, 393; Chaucer’s opinions as shown in, ii. 509, 522 ; commonplaced by Milton, iii. 76; Pope’s modernization of, iii. 179, 180, 185 ; the question of morality in, iii. 357; Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 380 ; lack of revision shown in, iii. 435- Merciless Beauty (No. 69), first printed by Percy, and added to list of Chaucer’s poems by R. Bell, i. 449 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Meres, Francis, PalladisTamia cited, iii. 42, 50. “ Merry ” Chaucer, iii. 360. Messahala, Arabian astronomer, Chaucer’s obligations to, ii. 397, 398. Metamorphoses. (See Ovid.) Meung, Jean de, Roma 7 t de la Rose (his part in), ii. 6, 7, 220, 221, 252, 285, 363; Le Livre de Melibee et de Dame Prudence, translation by, ii. 21 1 ; Le Testament de,\\. 221 ; Les Remojistrances, etc., ii. 221 . Michel, Dan, of Northgate, his Ayenbite of Inw it, ii. 211. Michel, Francisque, edition of the Ro 7 nan de la Rose, ii. 5 n., 9 n., 151 n., 219 n., 220 n., 282 n., 285 n., 393 n. Microcosmos. (See Ber 7 tardus Sylvestrisi) Migne, Jacques Paul, Patrologia Latma, ii. 336 n., 389 n. Military life of Chaucer, i. 21, 53-58, 62, ii. 478. Miller’s tale. The, the Night-spell in, i. 351 ; the tests of genuineness illus- trated from, ii. 45 n., 115, 129, 130, 145; books and authors used or named in, ii. 249, 361, 395 ; Cobb’s modernization of, iii. 188; the question of morality in, iii. 198, 350, 351. Milnes, Richard Monkton (Lord Houghton), joins in the last of the mod- ernizations of Chaucer, iii. 214. Milton, John, illustrations from facts in his life, i. 126, 215, 216 ; illustrations from his writings and literary methods, i. 232, 246, 382-384 ; his knowledge of and admira- tion for Chaucer, ii. 171, iii. 37,75.76; alleged participation in Phil- lips’s sketch of Chaucer, iii. 91; Landor’s comparison of, with Chaucer, iii. 215 ; anachronisms of, iii. 386 ; INDEX 488 his indebtedness to others, iii. 422,423; allusions, i. 167, 471, iii. 127, 257. 259, 262. Minor Poems, The. Leland’s mention of, i. 140; Thynne’s text of, i. 278 ; R. Bell’s, i. 325 ; great number of, originally, i. 358-361,422; Furnivall’s Odd Texts of, iii. 310; Skeat’s edition of, iii. 31 1 n. Minot, Lawrence, ii. 102. Miracle Plays, their irreverent spirit, ii. 506. Mirror for Magistrates, metre of, iii. 305, its dolorous stories, iii. 332, Mitford, Mary Russell, her admiration for Chaucer, iii. 262. Modernizations of Chaucer, by Dryden, iii. 1 54-1 79; by Pope, iii. 179-185 ; by Betterton, Cobb, Ogle, and other eighteenth - century writers, iii. 185-200; by nineteenth -century writ- ers, iii. 202-229 5 tendency of, iii. 240. Money, Value of, in the four- teenth century, i. 58, 64. Monk’s tale. The, named in Lydgate’s list, i. 421; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 392, 404, 499 n., ii. 63, 84, 128, 138, 142, 145 ; illustrations from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 1 84, 186, 187 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 219, 224, 231 ff, 235, 236, 239, 254, 267, 274, 284, 285, 303, 324 ff, 408, 413; Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 308, 333, 336; incompleteness of, iii. 434. Monstrelet, iii. 453. Montague, Charles, in Addison’s list of the greatest English poets, iii. 96. Monthly Review, The, i. 310. Montrose, James Graham, Mar- quis of, i- 363- Moral Proverbs of Chaucer, i- 435- Morality, The question of, in Chaucer’s works, iii. 261, 344-364 ; in eighteenth-century imita- tions of Chaucer, iii. 122. Morell, Dr. Thomas, his edition of the Prologue and Knight’s tale, i. 294- 298, 344, iii. 189, 240 ; on Chaucer’s versification, iii. 255. Morley, Prof. Henry, age of witnesses in the Scrope and Grosvenor controver- sy, i. 25. Morning star of our literature, Chaucer as the, iii. 98. Morris, Dr. Richard, his edition of Chaucer’s works, i. 327, 466 n., ii. 6 n., 10, II, 45 n. ; his additions to list of Chau- cer’s poems, i. 451 ; his edition of Chaucer’s Boe- thius, ii. 205 n. Mother Hubbard’s tale, Spen- ser’s, iii. 56. ‘ Mother of God and Virgin un- defouled.’ (See Orison to the Holy Vir- gm.) Mulcaster, Richard, i. 172 n. INDEX 489 Musarum Deliciae, iii. 88, 1 1 8. Naturalness of Chaucer, iii. 259, 440 - 443 - Nepos, Cornelius, alleged translation and com- mendation of the history of Dares Phrygius, ii. 306. Nero, The Story of, ii, 219, 284, 285. ‘ Never a del ’ (final ryme), use of the phrase, as a test of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 91, 544. New Elme, i. 102, 178. Nichols’s Illustrations of Liter- ary History, quoted, i. 325, Nicolas, Sir Nicholas Harris, his life of Chaucer, and refer- ences to, i. 23, 25, 50, 58, 63, 65, 70 n., 96, 99, III, 1 1 8, 1 99, 200 ; denies the autobiographic value of the Testament of Love, i. 201 ; on the learning of Chaucer, ii. 172, 203, 204. Nigellus Wereker, Chaucer’s knowledge of and obligations to, ii. 338-341 ; Speculinn Stultoriim, ii. 338. Night-spell, The, in the Miller’s tale, i. 351. Nine Ladies Worthy, The (No. 50). added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Notes and Queries, cited, i. 450. Nott, Dr. George Frederick, his theory of Chaucer’s versi- fication, i. 331 ff. Nova Poetria. (See Vmesau/.) I Nude, The, in art, iii. 348, 356, 358, 359. Niigis Curiahuni^ De. (See Afapes.) Numa Pompilius, Gower’s error as to, ii. 190. Nun’s Priest’s tale, The, the tests of genuineness illus- trated from, i. 404, 499, ii. 22, 33, 50, 1 1 5, 128, 129 ff, 134, 140, 142, 147, 149; books and authors used or named in, i. 303, ii. 215, 224 n., 266, 272, 275, 293, 297, 304, 326, 336, 338, 341, 342, 358, 360, 368, 372, 380, 383; Chaucer’s opinions as shown in, ii. 497, 533 ; Dryden’s modernization of, iii. 162, 191 ; Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 327, 374.418. Nuptiis Philologies et Mercurii, De. (See Martia 7 ttis Capella.) Nut-Brown Maid, The ballad of the, ii. 81, iii. 29, 230. Oak, Chaucer’s, i. 179, 180. Obligations to other writers, Chaucer’s acknowledgment of his, iii. 420-429. (See Originality^ Occleve, Thomas, his reference to Chaucer, i. 42; _ portrait of Chaucer, i. 50, 95 ; The Letter of Cupid, i. 149, 150.457; at Merton College, i. 170 ; works of Chaucer attributed to, i. 450, 458 ; his admiration for Chaucer, iii. II, 23; his literary claims, iii. 23-25, 28; versification of, iii. 304. 490 INDEX Octosyllabic verse, ii. 409, iii. 301, 303, 306. ‘ Of their nature they greatly them delight ’ (No. 48), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Ogle, George, scheme of modernization of Chaucer, iii. 189-191, 192, 193, 194, 197, 217; his modernization of the Clerk of Oxford’s tale, iii. 189, 194. “ Old Chaucer,” iii. 93, 95. Old English Miscellany, cited, ii. 337 n. “ Old Grizzle,” Chaucer styles himself, i. 39. Oldfield, Mrs., iii. 139. Oldys, William, on date of Chaucer’s death, i. 150; ^ assists in reviving interest in Chaucer, iii. 242. ‘ O merciful and O merciable ” (No. 53), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ‘O mossy quince hanging by your stalk’ (No. 56), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Origen, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 299, 300 ; the spurious Homily upon Mary Magdalene, i. 423, ii. 300. Originality, Chaucer’s, iii. 391-430. Origines upon the Maudelayn, Leland’s error as to, i. 140 ; named in the Legend of Good Women, i. 412, 475 ; named in Lydgate’s list, i. 421, 423; probable original of, ii. 300. Orison to the Holy Virgin (No. 70), printed by Leyden, and added by R. Bell to the list of Chaucer’s poems, i. 449, 450; classed in this work, i. 503 n. ; furnishes no special evidence as to religious belief, ii. 485 ; authorship of, iii. 25. Orosius, Paulus, Chaucer’s possible knowledge of, ii. 287. Ortelius, Abraham, ii. 440. Orthography of Chaucer, The question of the modernization of, iii. 264-279. Ottava Rima, iii. 304, 308. ‘ Out of doute,’ ‘ Out of drede,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 92, 544, 545, iii. 452. Outspokenness of Chaucer and Shakspeare compared, iii. 363. Ovid, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 183, 214, 249, 250, 251, 252, 258, 266, 267, 280, 388, 416, 419, iii. 354, 368, 424, 426, 427 ; Metamorphoses, ii. 183, 214, 246, 251, 287 n., 382 ; Heroides, ii. 251 ; Fasti, ii. 251, 281 ; Remedium Amoris, ii. 251, 41 1 n. ; Art of Love, ii. 251, 289, 290 ; INDEX 491 Dryden’s preference of Chau- cer to, iii. 108 ; allusions, ii. 256, 386, iii. 14, 157, 232. Pageship of Chaucer, The ques- tion of, i. 28, 30, 31, 53. Palemon and Arcite, named in the Legend of Good Women, i. 412. (See Kjiighfs tale, Thel) Pallio, De. (See Tertulliaiil) Painphilns de Ainore, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 370-372, 388, 419; attributed to Pamphilus Mau- rilianus, ii. 371 n. Paphos, Gower’s error as to, ii. 190. Parallel between Dryden and Chaucer, iii. 100. Parallelisms between Chaucer’s admitted works and the Romance of the Rose, ii. 121-153; of remote resemblance, ii. 121-135; of close resemblance, ii. 135- 153 - ‘ Pardee,’ use of the oath, as a test of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 91, 99 . 543 - Pardoner and Tapster, The Ad- ventures of the (No. 67), added to list of Chaucer’s works by Urry, i. 289, 448 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 476 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Pardoner’s tale. The, the literary tests of genuine- ness illustrated from, ii. 1 1 5, 1 19, 132, 143, 148, 149 ; books and authors used or j named in, i. 427, ii. 219, 270, .296, 333. 362, 373. 386, 394; Lipscomb’s modernization of, iii. 197 ; Hunt’s modernization of, iii. 212 ; Mrs. Cooper prints prologue to, iii. 243 ; its introduction of irrelevant learning, iii. 366. Parentage of Chaucer, facts as to, i. 12, 13 ; fictions as to, i. 133, 150, 151, 161, 162. Parker Society Publications, cited, ii. 321 n., iii. 41 n. Parkinson, John, Herbal cited, ii. 50 n. Parliament, Chaucer a member of, i. 81, 82. Parliament of Fowls, The (No. 10), mentioned by Leland, i. 140; autobiographic material in, i. 476, 177, 21 1 ; textual errors illustrated from, i. 242, 243, 247 ; printed by Caxton, i. 265 ; named in the Legend of Good Women, i. 412 ; named in the Retractation, i. 413; . named in Lydgate’s list, i. 420 ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 432 ; indebtedness to, of other poems, i. 456, 482, 487 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 398 n.,402, ii. 68, 69, 1 1 5, 128, 142, 144, 147. 149; its reference to Chaucer’s love of books, ii. 198 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 226, 240 ff, 256, 257, 268, 276, 278 n.,320, 345, iii. 428 ; Chaucer’s relations to religion as shown in, ii. 507 ; 492 INDEX Warton’s imitation of a pas- sage in, iii. 126 ; Prior’s allusion to, iii. 234; abrupt ending of, iii. 320, 431 ; Sandras on, iii. 41 1. Parson’s tale. The, its prose, i. 205 ; its place in the plan of the Canterbury tales, i. 436 ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, ii. 21 ff, 141, 144, 145, 147, 148 ; illustration from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 421 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 21 1, 299, 381, 388; Chaucer’s opinions as shown in, ii. 499 ; characterization of the Par- son in its prologue, iii. 40 ; Lipscomb’s criticism of, iii. 198. Pastime of Pleasure, Hawes’s, character of, iii. 32. Paternoster, The white, i- 351 - Paulus Diaconus, reputed author of Histo 7 'ia Miscella, ii. 385. Peacham, Henry, his praise of Chaucer, iii. no. Pecuniary affairs of Chaucer, releases his rights in Thames Street house, i. 12 ; Henry de Wakefield advances him money, i. 62 ; commutation of his daily ' pitcher of wine, i. 64 ; leases the Aldgate dwelling, i. 73; robbed, i. 84 ; financial distress, i. 87-89 ; revival of prosperity, i. 90 ; leases a tenement in West- minster, i. 93. (See Civil Offices ; Diplomatic Missions; Pensions, Grants, a 7 id Payments ; Wardshipsi) Pelerinage de la Vie Hiimame. (See Deguillevillei) Penelope, i. 417, i li. 258, 293. Pensions, grants, and payments to Chaucer, i. 20, 28, 30, 61 ff, 70, 82, 87 ff, 94: to Philippa Chaucer, i. 95 ff. Pepys, Samuel, account of the abduction of Miss Mallett, i. 78 ; of his becoming acquainted with Chaucer’s works, iii. 85, 86; suggestion to Dryden, iii. 87, 177; allusion, iii. 88. Percival, romance of, Chaucer’s, knowledge of, ii. 196, 201. Percy, Bishop, prints Merciless Beauty, i. 449; his estimate of one of Dun- bar’s poems, iii. 20. Percy, Sir Thomas, commissioner, i. 69. Percy Society, The, i. 316, 340, iii. 32 n. Persius, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 264, 265, 271, 419 ; allusion, iii. 102. Peter Comestor, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and indebtedness to, ii. 372-375 ; Historia Scholastica, ii. 373, 374. Petit, Thomas, publisher, i. 269. Petrarch, Francis, his alleged meeting with Chaucer, i. 67, 68, 156, 157; Leland’s reference to, i. 136, 137; at Prince Lionel’s marriage, i. 157; Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 186 ; INDEX Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 224, 225, 229 If, 233, 235, 236, 408, 410, iii. 424; indifference to his native tongue, ii. 455 ; his interest in the story of Griselda, iii. 341, 343 ; allusion, iii. 136. Petrus Alphonsus, ii. 388. Petrus de Riga, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 334-336, 419: Atirora, ii. 335. Philip, Sir John, first husband of Alice Chau- cer, i. 103. Philip III., ii. 211. Philippa, attendant of the wife of Prince Lionel, i. 29. Philippa, Queen of England, i. 96. “ Philistine,” as an epithet in the nine- teenth century, iii. 250, 251. Phillips, Edward, his Theatruni Poetarum cited, i. 159, 171, 174, iii. 91. Phillips, John, i, 290. Philomela, The Story of, ii. 251. Phyllis, The Story of, ii. 232. Physiologits, ii. 336, 337,419- Physiologiis de Naturis XII. Aiiimaliuin. (See Theobaldus) Piaget, M. Arthur, on Complaint of Venus, iii. 450,451. Pilgrim’s tale. The, confused with The Plowman’s tale, i. 461 ff ; favorably regarded by six- 493 teenth - century reformers, ii. 462. Pindar, ii. 404. Pindarus Thebamis, ii. 387. Pinkerton, John, his letter to John Nichols quoted, i. 325, 326 ; scheme for improving the English tongue, iii. 139. Pits, John, his life of Chaucer, and refer- ences to, i. 1 32, 1 33, 149-1 52, 154, 158, ii. 169, iii. 35, 36. Pity, The Complaint to (No. 12), Leland’s mention of, i. 140; its passion not real, i. 221 ; printed before 1 532, i. 429 ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 432; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; allusion, iii. 310. Plagiarism, the translator of the Roman de la Rose guilty of, if not Chaucer, ii. 153, 158-160, 165, 166; claimed as the prerogative of the man of genius, iii. 393 ; the principle applied to Chau- cer, iii. 393 ff ; the statements of Wright and Emerson, iii. 394. Plagues, The, of Egypt, Lydgate’s error as to, ii. 190. Plane til N’aturi^, De. (See Alanus de Insnlisl) Plato, Chaucer’s ignorance of, in the original, ii. 193, 387, 402 ; Republic, ii. 278 ; Banquet, ii. 402 ; allusions, ii. 392, iii. 378. Player, Fame of the, liable to perish, iii. 139. Pleyndamour, romance of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 201. 494 INDEX Pliny the elder, Chaucer’s possible knowledge of, ii. 287 ; one of Marbodus’s authori- ties, ii. 344. Plot and story, Chaucer’s pro- gressive development in handling, iii. 296, 316-322, 416-420. Plowman’s tale. The (No. 41), confused with Langland’s poem, i. 139, 173 n., iii. 109; its genuineness denied by Dart, i. 188 ; added to list of Chaucer’s works in edition of 1542, i. 269, 436 ; the question of its genuine- ness, i. 460-473,475, ii. 466, 467, iii. 36 : classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; favorably regarded by the sixteenth - century reform- ers, ii. 462, 464, iii. 35, 75 ; attributed to Chaucer by Dry- den, iii. 108. Poems, The, of Geoffrey Chau- cer Modernized (1841), the last of the modernizations, iii. 213-229. Poetical Register and Reposi- tory of Fugitive Poetry, iii. 21 1 n. Poet-laureate. (See Laureateship^ Poetry, Theory of improvement of, as held in the eighteenth century, iii. 251, 252. Poets, early. Characteristics of, iii. 322,323. Poggio Bracciolini, ii. 259. Pole, John de la, i. 103. Pole, William de la, i. 103, 141. Polycraticiis. (See JoJm of Salisbury^ Pope, Alexander, on Chaucer’s introduction of Provengal words, ii. 447 ; his imitations of Chaucer, iii. 120 ; on change in language, iii. 141 ; his ignorance of Early Eng- lish, iii. 151 ; his modernizations of Chau- cer, iii. 158, 161, 179-185, 187, 190, 1 91, 198, 204, 238, 246, 361 ; on Chaucer, iii. 234-237 ; allusions, i.6, 7, iii. 96, 100, 127, 147, 157, 159. Popean couplet, iii. 136, 303. Popularity, Continuous, of great writers, iii. 7-9; Chaucer no exception, iii. 9, 10. Powell, Thomas, joins in the last of the mod- ernizations of Chaucer, iii. 217. Praise of Women, A (No. 18), mentioned by Leland, i. 140; named in Thynne’s list, i. 432; the question of its genuine- ness, i. 475, 477 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Prayer to the Virgin Mary. (See ABC, Chaucer sb) Preston, Thomas, prologue to his Cambyses, ii. 401. Printing, its effect on the preservation and determination of origi- nal text, i. 229, 230, 262. Prior, Matthew, imitations of Chau ; i. 5, 121, 124, 131, 18' . ; ; imitations of Spe 1, ^ allusion, iii. 230. INDEX 495 Prioress’s tale, The, the tests of genuineness illus- trated from, ii. 51 ; sources of, ii. 324 ; Chaucer’s religious opinions as shown in, ii. 485, 490, 491; Wordsworth’s modernization of, iii. 209, 226. Procerus, i. 245. Proletariat, Literary, of the eigh- teenth century, iii. 193. Prolixity, Chaucer’s freedom from, iii. 327-330. Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, autobiographic material in, i. 9L93; textual errors and variations illustrated from, i. 241, 249, 275; its need of revised punctua- tion, i. 343 ; its need of further annota- tion, i. 352 ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 392, ii. 13, 28, 64, 98, 127 ff, 133, 135, 138, 140, 141, 143, 145, 146, 150. 537, 538; books and authors used or named in, ii. 193. 219, 393 ; references to characters in, ii. 184, 422, 456, 470, 471, 475, 516, 518, 528, iii. 37, 87, 333, 334; references to character of the Parson, ii. 460, 461, 479 ; of the Clerk of Oxford, ii. 422, 423 ; of the Knight, i. 9 r ff, ii. 480 ; modernizations of, iii. 1 86, 1 89, 190, 216, 224, 226 ; modernizations of the charac- ter of the Parson, iii. 177, 186, 200, 201 : the moral question as shown in, iii. 349. Pronan, James, commissioner, i. 66. Pronunciation of Chaucer, sixteenth-century errors as to, iii. 54-58; on the question of conform- ing to the modern, iii. 271- 277. Proper names, alteration of, i. 244, 246 ; unknown, i. 245. Prophecy, Chaucer’s (No. 38), named in Thynne’s list, i. 434 ; metrical prayer erroneously appended to, i. 450 ; not specifically mentioned by Tyrwhitt, i. 478 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Prose-style of Chaucer, i. 205-207 ; compared with that of the Testament of Love, i. 207- 210. Prosperity (No. 73), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Morris, i. 451 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Protection, Letters of, issued to Chaucer, i. 62, 69, 87, 88. Prothero’s Memoir of Henry Bradshaw, ii. 413 n. Proven gal words, Chaucer’s alleged introduc- tion of, ii. 446-449. Proverb against Covetise (No. 43). added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 439 ; its genuineness accepted by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Proverb against Negligence ■ (No. 44), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 439 ; its genuineness accepted by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. INDEX 496 Proverbs of Chaucer, i.451. Pseustis, i. 245. Ptolemy, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 186, 395- 397; Syntaxes, ii. 395 ; Tetrabiblos (assigned to), ii. 398; allusion, iii. 378. Punctuation of Chaucer’s text. Necessity of a revision of, i. 342-346. Puritans, Popularity of Chaucer with the, ii. 461-463, 474, iii. 34-41* Purse, Chaucer’s Complaint to his (No. 34), quoted, i. 89 ; printed before 1 532, i. 429 ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 434; assigned to Occleve, i. 458 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; Horne’s modernization of, iii. 225. Puttenham, George, on the diction of poetry, iii. 60 ; on Gower, iii. 71 ; on ‘ riding ryme,’ iii. 305 ; allusion, iii. 66. Pycard, Geoffrey, i. 96. Pycard, Philippa, i. 96, 97. Pynson, Richard, his edition of Chaucer’s works, and references to, i. 264, 265, 413 n., 430, iii. 33; Thynne denies genuineness of two pieces printed in, i. 435- Quantity of Chaucer’s verse, i. 428, 444, 448,455. 476, 503. ii. 3, 6, 8, iii. 450. Quibbles, Verbal, ~ ii. 223, iii. 319. Quotations, Chaucer’s, character of, ii. 265, 418. Raleigh, Sir Walter, i. 363. Rambeau, Dr. A., original of the House of Fame, ii. 243, 248. Rapttt ProserpmcB, De. (See Clat(dm 7 i.') Ravaliere, M. de la, ii. 212. Razis, medical writer, ii- 393- Realism, Chaucer’s, iii. 390. Recitation, Perils of publication by, 1. 227, 228. Reeve’s tale. The, illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 386, ii. 48 ff, 84, 115 n., 131 ; books and authors used or named in, i. 31 5, 319, ii. 216, 228, 229, iii. 413, 414; Chaucer’s religious opinions as shown in, ii. 520 ; Betterton’s modernization of, iii. 186; Horne’s modernization of, iii. 217, 227 ; morality of, iii. 198, 223, 351. Refiner of the language, Chau- cer as a, ii. 431-437. Reformers of the sixteenth cen- tury, Chaucer’s popularity with, ii. 461-465,474, iii. 34-41. Religion, Chaucer’s relations to. (See Table of Co 7 itents, chap, vil) Religious belief. Tendencies of, in Chaucer’s time, ii. 492-495- INDEX 497 Religious poems of Chaucer, ii. 485-491. Remedmvi Amor is. (See Ovid.) Remedy of Love, The (No. 22), mentioned by Leland, i. 140; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; allusion to, by Addison, iii. 97. Remojistrances, Les, on La Com- plaint de Nature a V Ale hy- miste Errant. (See Mettng,Jean del) Renart, Roinan de, Chaucer’s knowledge of and obligations to, ii. 215-217, iii, 418. Republica, De. (See Cicero) Reputation of Chaucer, vicissitudes in, iii. 4, 5 ; among contemporaries, iii. 10-15; in Scotland, iii. 15-18 ; in fifteenth century, iii. 22 ff ; in sixteenth century, iii. 33 ff, 65 ff; in seventeenth century, iii. 72 ff, 92 ff , 98 ff , 1 1 2 ff ; in eighteenth century, iii. 237 ff.243ff; in Georgian period, iii. 258 ff ; at present, iii. 263, Retractation, The, its list of Chaucer’s works, i. 412 ; literary history and genuine- ness of, i. 41 3 -41 5, 447, iii. 40. Retters, The town of, its geographical site, i. 56, 57, iii. 452, 453. Return from Parnassus, The, the imitation of Chaucer in, iii. 116; styles Chaucer “merry,” iii. 360. Reverence, Chaucer’s lack of, ii. 506-509. Rhetorical structure, as a test of genuineness, i. 376, 377, 398, 399- Richard II., Gower’s reference to, i. 43, 45 ff; favors, commissions, pay- ments, and pension to Chaucer, i. 69, 70 n., 81, 89, 90, 141 ; confirms pension of Philippa Chaucer, i. 95 ; gives an appointment to Thomas Chaucer, i. 102, 1 10 ; allusions, i. 83, 93, ii. 325, iii. . 335- ‘ Riding ryme,’ iii. 305. Riley, Henry Thomas, i. 165. Ritson, Joseph, on loss of songs and lays of Chaucer, i. 360 ; ascribes The World so Wide to Halsam, i. 451 ; on Occleve, iii. 25 ; on Lydgate, iii. 26. Robbery of Chaucer by high- waymen, i. 84. Robert of Gloucester, i. 499, iii. 299. Rochester, John Wilmot, Earl of, i.78. Roet, Sir Payne, Chaucer’s assumed marriage to daughter of, i. 98, 99, 1 1 1, 154, 155- Rogers, Prof. J. E. Thorold, i. 64. Roman centurion at Caper- naum, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 188. Roman Gestes, The. (See Gesta Romanornm) 111.-32 498 INDEX Roman de la Rose, Le, Gower’s message to Chaucer suggested by, i. 480 ; as original of the Romance of the Rose, ii. 3-166 ; Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 193, 206, 208, 212, 217-223, 248, 252, 281, 285, 347, 363, 393, 417, 526. (See Table of Coritents, chap, zv. iz. ; Lorris ; Meting 1 ) Romance of the Rose, The (No. 2), alleged period of composi- tion, i. 59 ; mentioned by Leland, i. 139; its punctuation, state of, i. 346; named in Legend of Good Women, i. 41 1 ; omitted in the Retractation, i. 414, 422 ; named in Lydgate’s list, i. 420 ; not printed till 1532,1.429; named in Thynne’s list, i. 431 ; length of, i. 444, ii. 7, 8 ; quoted in the Pilgrim’s tale, 1.465;, Chaucer’s Dream apparently indebted to, i. 483 ; genuineness of, i. 399, 428, 504, ii. 3-166, 200, 537-551 a dual authorship of, inde- fensible, ii. 1 1-13 : objections to Chaucer’s au- thorship of, controverted, ii. 17-77; anonymous authorship of, not probable, ii. 79-81 ; style of, identified with that of Chaucer’s admitted works, bv general features, ii. 15, ^6, 78-86: by forms of expression com- mon to both, ii. 86-121 ; by parallelisms of idea and expression, ii. 121-153; by a characteristic use of synonyms, ii. 153-158; sources of. ii. 209, 222, 223 ; commonplaced by Milton, hi. 76; versification of, hi. 306 ; its use of wzthoiiten drede or out of drede, a correction, ih. 452. (See Table of Contents, chap, zv. ill) Romano, Julio, ih. 385. Ros, Sir Richard, i. 474. Roscommon, Earl of, his Essay on Translated Verse cited, ih. 94; in Addison’s list of the great- est English poets, hi. 96. Rossetti, William Michael, comparison of Chaucer’s Troz- Ills and Cresszda with Boc- caccio’s Fzlostrato, i. 341, ii. 205 n., 227, 228, 235, 241, 313 - Roundel, hi. 312. Rowe, Nicholas, hi. 188. Rufinum, In. (See Claudzan.) Rye, Walter, discoveries by, i. 14 n. ; quoted, i. 27. Ryme, as a test of genuineness, i. 372-376, 388-398. ii- 57-65, 75-77; its superiority to alliterative verse, iii. 300. Ryme Royal, i- 333, 376, lii. 195, 304-306. Rymer, Thomas, on Chaucer’s indebtedness to the Provengal, ii. 446, 447 ; A Short View of Tragedy quoted, ii. 447 ; his Fcedera cited, i. 14 n., 63 n., 67 n., 72 n., 157 n., ii. 207 n. INDEX 499 Rymes, unusual, the existence of, as a test of genuineness, i. 375, 398, ii. 59-65. Ryming verse (of type used in romances and tales of ad- venture), iii. 299, 300 ; burlesqued in the Tale of Sir Thopas, iii. 300. Sackville, Thomas, introducer of blank verse into • the drama, iii. 48. Saint Peter, Sister of, i.35i. Samothes Gigas, i. 132. Samson and Delilah, Chaucer’s interpretation of the story of, ii. 187. Sandras, E. G., on obligations of Frois- sart to Chaucer, i. 245, iii. 13; on obligations of Chaucer to French writers, ii. 213, 214, 222 ' on obligations of Chaucer to Italian writers, ii. 234, on Agathon and Zanzis, ii. 402, 411 ; on Chaucer’s originality, iii. 407-412. Satire in the Middle Ages, its favorite objects of attack, ii. 7, 263. Savile, Sir Henry, his edition of Bradwardine’s De Causa Dei, ii. 382 n. Scalby, John, Chaucer assigns his pensions to, i. 83. Scepticism, prevalence of, in Chaucer’s time, ii. 494, 495 ; sceptical attitude of Chaucer’s mind towards all subjects, ii. 495-50.5. Schmitz, Leonhard, his Life of Chaucer, in mod- ernizations of 1841, iii. 217. Scholarship of Chaucer, accuracy of, ii. 177-189, 420- 426. Science and scientific literature, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 389-393. Scogan, Henry, Leland’s mention of, i. 136 ; his poem, i. 431, 433, iii. 10. Scogan, Llenry, Chaucer’s Epis- tle to (No. 32), autobiographic material in, i. 36-40, 87, 361, iii. 289 ; printed before 1 532, i. 429 ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; its reference to Tullius, ii. 272. Scotch writers. The early, Chaucer’s popularity wdth, iii. 1 5-18 ; imitations of Chaucer by, iii. 18-22. Scots Magazine, The, i. 310. Scott, Sir Walter, his review of Godwin’s Life of Chaucer, i. 194, 195 ; on Chaucer’s D'ozlus and Cres- sida, ii. 228 ; on Dryden’s modernization of Chaucer, iii. 160, 165, 232 ; character of his comments on Chaucer, iii. 259 ; anachronisms of, iii. 389 ; on invention, iii. 403 ; allusion, i. 330. Scrope, Sir Richard le, his controversy with Sir Rob- ert Grosvenor, i. 18, 19 n., 56, 57, 188, iii. 453. Seal of Chaucer, Supposed, i. 106, 107. Second Nun’s tale. The, named in Legend of Good Women, i. 412 ; 500 INDEX illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 374, 398 n., 399,404, ii. 45 n., 144; books and authors used or named in, ii. 239, 321, 324, 329. 388 ; Chaucer’s religious opinions as shown in, ii. 485, 486- 489, 491 ; lack of revision shown in, iii. 435- Secreta Secretorum, ii. 392. Selby, Walford Baking, communications by, i. 60 n., 86 n., 88 n. ; quoted, i. 1 18. Selden, John, his praise of Chaucer’s learn- ing, ii. 171, 397, 39S. Self-consciousness of Chaucer, iii. 295, 296, 323-325. Seneca, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 265, 267-271, 388, iii. 452 ; De Brevitate VitcE, ii. 268 ; Ad Helvia 77 i Matre 77 i de Co 7 t- solatio 7 ie, ii. 269 ; De Vita Beat a, ii. 269 ; De Be 7 iejiciis, ii. 270 ; Epistola Ixxxiii., ii. 270 ; De Ira, ii. 271, 320 ; De Matr 177107120 , ii. 295 ; Epistola ii., iii. 452 ; allusions, ii. 256, iii. 14. Senior, ii. 392. Settle, Elkanah, i- 334. Shakspeare, William, his literary art, i. 350, iii. 47, 48, 120, 294 ; in literary history of Chaucer, iii. 67, 68 ; modernization of his orthog- raphy and pronunciation, iii. 1 50, 268, 276, 277 ; conventional comparison of, with Chaucer, iii. 290-293 ; his outspokenness compared with Chaucer’s, iii. 363, 364; anachronisms of, iii. 384, 385 ; his originality, iii. 401, 404 ; allusions, i. 50, 126, 131, 189, 303, 310, ii. 223, 238, 247, iii. 4, 90, 223, 259, 262, 362. Shepherd’s Calendar, The, Spenser’s, iii. 42-44. Shipman’s tale. The, the literary tests of genuine- ness illustrated from, ii. 84, 141,147; alleged source of, ii. 228 ; lack of revision shown in, iii. 435- Shirley, John, on the original of Fortune, ii. 208 ; on the genuineness of ‘ The longe nightes 'when every creature,’ iii. 310. ‘Shortly (for) to say,’ ‘ Shortly (for) to tell,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 95, 96, 547. Sibbald, James, his theory of Chaucer’s versi- fication, i. 329, 330. Sidney, Sir Philip, on the unities of time and place, iii. 47 ; on the diction of poetry, iii. 60 ; on its gradual improvement, iii. 252. Simeon Metaphrastes, ii. 323. Singer, Samuel Weller, i. 450, 454. Skeat, Prof. Walter William, on a disputed reading, i. 279; his preliminary essay in Bell’s edition, i. 325 ; on ryme of the preterite and past participle, i. 399, 400; his edition of the Tale of Gamelin cited, i. 447 n. ; INDEX 501 his additions to the list of Chaucer’s poems, i. 452 ; on the date of the Plowman’s tale, i. 461 n. ; accepts the Ballade against Women Unconstant, i. 504; the objections against the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose as stated by, examined, ii. 17-77 ; on the originals of the Canter- bury Tales, ii. 221, 232 n. ; on the original of the House of Fame, ii. 243; on Avicenna, ii. 394 n. ; on the original of the Astro- labe, ii. 397 ; his edition of Chaucer’s Mi- nor Poems, iii. 31 1 n. ; recent discovery by, iii. 449 ; acknowledgment to. Intro- duction, xxvii. Skelton, John, his Philip Sparrow quoted, iii. 52 ; allusion, iii. 61. Skinner, Stephen, on Chaucer as a corrupter of the language, ii. 442-444, 451 ; his Etymological Dictionary cited, ii. 442. Smith, Alexander, on change in language, iii. 150; on Dryden’s and Pope’s mod- ernizations of Chaucer, iii. 161. Smith, Rev. Dr. James, iii. 88. ‘ So mote I thee,’ ‘ So mote I go,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. loi, 550 . 551 - Soam.es, Sir William, his translation of Boileau’s Art Poetique, iii. 102. Socrates, Spenser’s error as to, ii. 191 ; the story of the wife of, ii. 294; allusion, iii. 14. Solinus, his Polyhistor, ii. 287 ; Marbodus’s use of, as an au- thority, ii, 344. Solomon, Parables or Proverbs of, ii. 289, 290. Solys, William de, Chaucer’s wardship of, i. 65. Somer, John, mathematician, i. 134, 145, ii. 399. ‘ Sometime the world so stead- fast was and stable’ (No. 29), named in Thynne’s list, i. 433 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Somme de Vices et de Virttis, La. (See Lorens, Frerei) Somnitim Scipionis. (See Cicero ; Macrobiusi) ‘ Son of Priamus, gentle Paris of Troy ’ (No. 54), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by Tyr- whitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ‘Sooth (for) to say, (The),’ ‘ Sooth (for) to tell, (The),’ use of the phrases, as*tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 94, 95, 102, 546, 547. ‘ Soothly (for) to say,’ ‘Soothly (for) to tell,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 94, 95, 546, 547. Sophocles, iii. 157. Southey, Robert, his review of Godwin’s Life of Chaucer, i. 195 ; on Chaucer’s versification, i. 33o> 333-335 ; INDEX 502 on the rudeness of the lan- guage in Chaucer’s time, iii. 252 ; his admiration for Chaucer, iii. 259. Speciihtm Majus. (See Vmceiit of Beauvais^ Speculum Stidtoriim. (See Nigelhcs Werekerl) Speght, Thomas, his life of Chaucer, and refer- ences to, i. 16, 99, 104, 154- 158, 160 ff, 164, 169, 171, 172, I79> 185, 188, ii. 171 ; his editions of Chaucer’s works, and references to, i. 270-280, 296, 343, 441, 442, 444, 463, 470, 483, 490, ii. 170, 363, 401, 406, iii. 44, 51, 59, 92, 352, 405 n. Spence, Joseph, anecdotes of Pope, iii. 96, 234; anecdotes of Addison, iii. 96. Spenser, Edmund, errors as to facts in his life, i. 27,29; his doubt as to the genuine- ness of the Plowman’s tale, .^•470: his diction, i. 1502, ii. 136, iii. 137, 150; inaccuracy of his learning, i. 247, ii. 191 ; his admiration for Chaucer, iii. 42-46, 245 ; his conclusion to the Squire’s tale, iii. 45, 191 ; versification of, iii. 54-57, 305 ; Addison’s characterization of, iii. 95; imitations of, iii. 114, 119, 125, 130,153,257; modernizations of, iii. 155 ; Landor’s comparison of, with Chaucer, iii. 214 ; his attitude towards criticism, iii. 284 ; illusions, i. 167, 310, iii. 76, 94, 128, 151, 259. Spenserian stanza, iii. 305. Sprat, Thomas, in Addison’s list of the great- est English poets, iii. 96. Spurious works of Chaucer, List of, i. 504 n. Squire’s tale. The, incompleteness of, i. 445, 446, iii. 434,437; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, ii. 115, 127, 129, 138, 141 ; illustrations from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 391 ; Spenser’s conclusion to, iii. 45; Milton’s allusion to, iii. 75 ; Boyse’s modernization of, iii. 190, 193, 195, 21 1 ; Hunt’s modernization of, iii. 211, 217 ; Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 317 ff, 330, 426. Stace, Geoffrey, i. 51. Stanzas and measures of com- plex and artificial charac- ter, experiments, iii. 307-316. Staplegate, Edmund, Chaucer’s wardship of, i. 65, 154. Statius, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 245 ; Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 252, 253, 258, 262, 416, 419, iii. 424; Thebaid, ii. 252, 253, 347, 403, 510, iii. 378; Achilleis, ii. 252 ; allusions, ii. 256, iii. 145, 249. Staveren, Augustinus van, his Auctores Mythographi La- tim cited, ii. 382 n. Steele, Richard, Poetical Miscellany, iii. 361. INDEX 503 Storial Mirrour, ii. 377 - (See Vincent of Beauvaisi) Stow, John, . Speght s indebtedness to, i. 154,270; his part in the edition of 1561, i. 269, 274, 296 ; his additions to the list of Chaucer’s poems, and refer- ences to, i. 437-445. 457 . 475. 485, 490, 497, iii. 310; attributes the Flower of Courtesy to Lydgate, i, 456; on Chaucer’s relations to the English language, ii. 438 ; allusion, i. 470. Strode, Ralph, Leland’s mention of, i. 135, 170. Sturry, Sir Richard, commissioner, i. 69. Style, Chaucer’s, clearness of, i. 349, 350 ; as a test of genuineness, i. 378-380, ii. 77, 78 ; identified with that of the Romance of the Rose, ii. 78-160, 537-551 ; in translations, ii. 209; as affected by Italian writers, ii. 224; directness of, iii. 170 ff, 326- 330; growth of, i. 409, 410, iii. 439, 440; naturalness of, iii. 440-443. Styx, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 182. Subjects, choice of, Chaucer’s growth of taste in, iii. 330 ff. Success, Chaucer’s social and political, i. 120. Suetonius, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 265, 274, 278, 284-286. Suidas, ii. 404. Summoner’s tale. The, illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 403, ii. 42, 64, 1 14, 1 17, 1 19, 148 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 270, 328, 396 ; Chaucer’s religious opinions as shown in, ii. 520 ; Gay’s Answer to Prologue of, iii. 125 ; Grosvenor’s modernization of, iii. 190, 192. Superstitions, common, Chau- cer’s attitude towards, ii. 499, 500. Surigon, Stephen, i. 141, 142, 434, 441. Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of, Nott’s view of, i. 331 ; blank verse introduced by, iii. 48; his language, iii. 137, 150, 151 ; allusion, i. 218. Swift, Jonathan, on settling the language, iii. 146 ff. Swynford, Katharine, widow of Hugh, i. 98, 104 ff, 1 1 1. Swynford, Sir Hugh, i. 98. Swynford, Thomas, i. III. Sylvester, Joshua, 'i. 179 n. Synonymous words. Character- istic use of, common to Chaucer’s admit- ted works and the Romance of the Rose, ii. 153-158. Syntaxis. (See Ptolemyi) Tables TolletaneSy ii. 398. Tacitus, not referred to by Vincent of Beauvais, ii. 378. 504 INDEX Talfourd, Sir Thomas Noon, iii. 214. Taste, Chaucer’s change of, iii- 335-339- (See Changes of Method, Chaii- cer’s.) Tate, Nathan, Poems by Several Hands, quoted, iii. 93. Tempest, Shakspeare’s, its observance of the unities, iii. 48. Temple Bar Magazine, The, cited, iii. 225 n. Tem^ple of Glass, The, as name of Chaucer’s Dream, i- 483- Ten Brink, Prof. Bernhard, on Chaucer’s versification, i. 373 n., 394. ii- 57 n. ; on Chaucer’s originals, ii. 214, 227, 241, 243, 248 ; on Lollius, ii. 409, 410 ; acknowledgment to. Intro- duction, xxvii. Ten Commandments of Love, The (No. 49), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; its genuineness denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Tennyson, Alfred, i. 167, ii- 370, iii. 214. Tertullian, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 290-292 ; De Pallio, ii. 290 ; De Cultu Femmarum, ii. 291 ; Ad Uxorevi, ii. 291 ; De Exhortatione Casiitatis, ii. 291 ; De Virgiiiibus Velandis, ii. 524. Terza rima, iii. 311. Teseide, La. (See BoccaccioT) Testament of Cressida and her Complaint, The (No. 4), Leland’s mention of, i. 139; named in Thynne’s list, i. 431 ; its genuineness denied by F. Thynne, i. 457 ; assigned by Kinaston and Urry to Henryson, i. 460, iii. 20; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Testamejit de Jea 7 t de MeJnmg, Le. (See Meimg,Jean det) Testament of Love, The (No. 20), Gower’s supposed reference to, i. 44, 480 ; mentioned by Leland, i. 140; summary of, i. 180-185; the legend founded upon, i. 188 ff, 454; its spuriousness, i. 200-210; its spuriousness pointed out by Hertzberg, i. 204; named in Thynne’s list, i. 432 ; its genuineness not denied by Tyrwhitt, i. 480 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; its criticism of those who write in Latin and French, ii. 458; its commendation of Chaucer, iii. II. Testimony, Personal and con- temporary, as a test of gen- uineness, i. 367, 368, 370, 380. Tests of genuineness, the first class, or absolute, i. 367-370, 380, 498-501 ; the second class, or corrobo- ratory, i. 370-410; applied to the Romance of the Rose, ii. 17-160, 537- 551. Tetrabiblos. (See Ftolejny.) Teutonic speech, Verstegan’s view of, ii. 439-441. INDEX 505 Text of Chaucer, The. (See Table of Co 7 ttents, chap, ziil) ‘ The longe nightes when every creature ’ (No. 58), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 440 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; genuineness and versification of, iii. 310, 31 1. ‘The more I go, the farther I am behind ’ (No. 72), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by R. Bell, i. 451 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ‘ The world so wide, the air so remuable’ (No. 71), ascribed by Ritson to Hal- sam, i. 451 ; added to list of Chaucer’s poems by R. Bell, i. 451 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Thebaid. (See Statius.) Thebes and Greece, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 182. Theobaldus, Physiologies de Naturis xii Aiiimatmui, ii. 337, 419. Theology, doctrinal, Chaucer’s interest in, ii. 531- 535. Theophrastus, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 289, 290, 364-367 ; Aureolus Theophrasti Liber de Nuptiis, ii. 366, 379. Thespis, Gawin Douglas’s error as to, ii. 190. Thisbe, The Story of, ii. 251. Thomas, Timothy, i. 291. Thomas, William, i. 186, 291. Thompson, William, imitations of Chaucer, iii. 125. Thomson, James, his use of obsolete words, iii. 153. Thopas, The Tale of Sir, illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 388, ii. 13, 27, 28 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 49, 201, 302 ; Z. A. Z.’s modernization of, iii. 217 ; Bishop Hurd on, iii. 243 ; versification of, iii. 300 ; the Gestes satirized in, iii, 331 ; incompleteness of, iii. 434, Thurlow, Edward Hovel, second Lord, modernizations of Chaucer, i. 489, iii. 203, 204, 206-208. Thynne, Francis, his Animadversions cited, i. 163, 267, 268, 272, 273, 436 ; on the necessity of separating and rejecting works wrong- ly attributed to Chaucer, i. 457; on the omission of the Pil- grim’s tale from his father’s edition, i. 462 ff ; on the original of the Knight’s tale, ii. 204 ; on the threatened prohibition of Chaucer’s works, ii, 476 ; on the versification of Chau- cer, iii. 51. Thynne, Sir John, i. 463. Thynne, William, his editions of Chaucer’s works, and references to, i. 139, 146, 243, 265-270, 296, ii. 6 n., 10, 476, iii. 437 ; the texts compared, i. 276 ff ; his list of Chaucer’s works, and references to, i. 430-437, 413,444, 461,462,474, 481. To the King’s most Noble Grace (No. 37), named in Thynne’s list, i. 434; INDEX 506 included in R. Bell’s edition, i. 478 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Todd, Henry John, his Illustrations of the Lives and Writings of Gower and Chaucer cited, i. 272, ii. 172 ; his edition of Spenser cited, iii. 65, 155. Tomb of Darius, ii- 353. 354. Tonson, Jacob, publishes Pope’s first mod- ernization of Chaucer, iii. 179; publishes three volumes of the Canterbury Tales of Chaucer Modernized by Several Hands, iii. 190. Tortula, ii. 289. Toy, Robert, publisher, i. 269. Tractatiis ad Laudein Gloriosce Virgmis Matris. ( See Beriiard of Clairvaitx, Samt.) Tragedies, Chaucer’s criticism of the, iii. 332-335- Translator, Chaucer as a, iii. 366. Trapp, Joseph, on Dryden’s commendation of Chaucer, iii. 232. Trivet, Nicolas, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 209, 210 ; Anglo-Norman Chronicle, ii. 210. Troilus and Cressida (No. 3), Leland’s mention of, i. 135, 139; autobiographic material in, i. 227, 359; date of Campsall text, i. 240 ; textual errors illustrated from, i. 245, 254; printed by Caxton, i. 265 ; Chaucer Society texts of, i. 340. 341 ; named in the Legend of Good Women, i. 41 1 ; named in the Retractation, i. 413; named in Lydgate’s list, i. 420 ; named in Thynne’s list, i.431 ; indebtedness of other poems to, i. 453, 482 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i. 374, 393, 394.397. 398.402, ii. 21 ff, 30 ff, 34,45 n., 51, 54, 62,63,65, 71, 85, 95, 114 ff, 127, 128, 131, 132, 135, 139, 140, 142- 150; illustrations from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, i. 182, 205 ; books and authors used or named in, i. 293, 333, ii. 225, 227, 228, 236, 240, 241, 252, 253. 258, 260, 261, 267, 287 n., 309, 312, 359, 406 ff, 410, 41 1, iii. 424, 425 ; Chaucer’s opinions as shown in, ii. 481, 498, 510, 514,519, 532 n., 533; its literary history, iii. 10, 32, 33. 67 ; Kinaston’s Latin translation of, iii. 76-82, 104, 154 ; indebtedness to, of the imita- tion in the Return from Parnassus, iii. 1 16 ; Wordsworth’s modernization of a portion of, iii. 217 ; extracts from, in Clarke’s The Riches of Chaucer, iii. 269; Chaucer’s attitude towards criticism as shown in, iii. 285 ; his literary art as shown in, iii. 319, 320, 328, 329, 369, 370. 373. 374 : anachronisms in, iii. 377 ff. INDEX 50; Trojan war, legendary cycle of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, i. 302-304, ii. 303. 305-317- Trophe, ii. 408, 411, 413, 415. Trouveres, Sandras’s claim of Chaucer’s indebtedness to the, iii. 407-412. Troye, Roman de. (See Benoit de Saint e-M ore}} ‘Trust well,’ ‘trust me,’ ‘trust- eth well,’ ‘ trusteth me,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 99, 549 - Truth stranger than fiction, why, iii. 400. Tuke, Sir Brian, his Dedicatory Epistle to Thynne’s edition of Chau- cer, i. 139, 266-268. Turner, Sharon, i. 17 n. Tyrwhitt, Thomas, on events in Chaucer’s life, i. 16, 96. 99, 170, 186, 190 ; on editions of Chaucer other than his own, i. 263, 268, 288, 292, 297, 413 n., 460 n. ; his edition of the Canterbury Tales, i. 300-313, ii. 3 n., 31 1, iii. 139, 158, 219, 224, 254; attacked by Wright, i. 315- 321, iii. 394; attacked by G. Chalmers, i. 322; his text, i. 249, 2t;o, 323, 324, 336, 344, 437, ii. 73; his theory of Chaucer’s versi- fication, i. 328, 329, iii. 50; Nott on, i. 332 ; his list of words in Chaucer’s works he could not define, i- 350; works of Chaucer rejected or not mentioned by, i. 449,. 464, 466, 473-479, ii. 466 ; the question of the genuine- ness of certain works ac- cepted by, i. 480-503, iii. 4x0 ; on the texts of the Romance of the Rose, ii. 10 ; on the learning of Chaucer, ii. 186, 204 ; on originals of lost works of Chaucer, i. 423, ii. 300; of Man’of Law’s tale, ii. 210, 385; of Death of Blanche, ii. 212 ; of Nun’s Priest’s tale, ii. 215, 273; of Reeve’s tale, ii. 216 ; of passages in Prologue, Knight’s tale, and Man- ciple’s tale, ii. 219 ; of Monk’s tale, ii. 219, 232 n., 233,235 ; of Doctor’s tale, ii. 219 ; of Miller’s tale, ii. 249; of Pardoner’s tale, ii. 270; of Wife of Bath’s tale, ii. 290. 379. 396, 397 ; of Merchant’s tale, ii. 384; of Canon’s Yeoman’s tale, ii. 392; on the Roman de Troye, ii. 311; on the Distichs of Cato Par- vus, ii. 361 ; on Agathon, ii. 401 ; on Lollius, ii. 406 ; on Zanzis, ii. 41 1 ; on Zael, ii. 414; on Chaucer’s relations to the English language, ii. 445, 448 fi ; in the literary history of Chaucer, i. 455, iii. 130, 254- 258. Ugolino, The Story of, ii. 239. Universal Doctor, The title of, ii. 179. 5 o8 INDEX Universal Magazine, The, on the Donnington Oak, i. 179 n. Upton, John, accepts the genuineness of the Plowman’s tale, i. 472. Urban VL, ii. 325. Urry, John, the life of Chaucer prefixed to his edition, and refer- ences to, i. 17, 99, 158, 159, 166, 169, 186-190; his edition of Chaucer’s works, and references to, i. 283- 294, 413 n., 414, 435, ^458, 460, ii. 6 n., 401, 406, iii. 81, 190 ; his additions to the list of Chaucer’s works, i. 446-448 ; on Chaucer’s versification, iii. 255; on the morality of the Miller’s tale, iii. 351. U X or em. Ad. (See Tertullian^ Valerius Flaccus, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 258- 260 ; Argonauizca, ii. 259. Valerius Maximus, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249, 257, 265, 273, 274-277 ; De Factis Dictisque Memora- bilibiis, ii. 273. Valerhis ad Rufizmm, (See Mapes, Walter b) Valery, ii. 289, 290, 367 ff. (See Mapes, Walter.) Valettus, armiger, sciitifer, i. 61. Varro, ii. 260. “ Venerable,” epithet applied to Chaucer by Gawin Douglas, i. 42. Venus, Chaucer’s error as to source of her surname of Cythe- rea, ii. 181. Venus, The Complaint of (No. 24), autobiographic material in, i. 40, 41 ; mentioned by Leland, i. 140; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433 ; classed in this work, i, 504 n. ; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, i.400, ii. 21 ; a translation from Granson’s poems, ii. 207, iii. 450, 45 1 ; R. Bell’s modernization of, iii. 217 ; versification of, iii. 308, 309, 31D 312. Verse. (See Alliterative verse ; He- roic verse; Octosyllabic verse; Ryme Royal; Ryming verse; Stanzas and measures^) Versification of Chaucer, references to, i. 285, 286, 290, 299, 300 ; discussion of, i. 328-335 ; perfection of, i. 347, 348 ; its growth in freedom, i. 408- 410, ii. 164, 165 ; views of, as wanting in regu- larity, iii. 51-58, 109-112; Tyrwhitt’s vindication of, iii. 255-258; result of conscious skill, iii. 295, 296 ; its value, iii. 297, 298 ; its originality, variety, and development, iii. 298-316. Versificatione, De. (See Eberhardusi) Verstegan, Richard, Chaucer as a corrupter of the English language, ii. 438- 441, 451 ; his Restitution of Decayed Intelligence cited, ii. 43S. Village without Painting. (See Visage without Painth igi) INDEX 509 Villon, Francis, compared with Chaucer by Matthew Arnold, iii. 362. Vincent of Beauvais, Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 375-381. speculum Majus ox Bibliotheca Mimdi, ii. 375 ff, 383. Vinesauf, Geoffrey de, Chaucer’s mention of, ii. 224 n., 341, 342, 420; Nova Poetria, ii. 341, 342. Vi relay, iii. 312. Virgil, Chaucer compared with, i. 137: mistakes of Chaucer in ren- dering, ii. 184, 205 : Gower’s error as to, ii. 190; Chaucer’s knowledge of, and obligations to, ii. 249 ff, 258, 416, 419, iii. 321, 368, 424, 426 ; allusions, i. 238, 242, ii. 352, 502, iii. 21, 22, 158, 231, 249. Virginia, The Story of, ii. 219, 279, 281, 285, 298, iii. 379. Virgimbus Velajidis, De. (See Tertulliani) Visage without Painting, Bal- lade of (No. 31), printed before 1 532, i. 429 ; named in Thynne’s list, i. 433 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. ; the literary tests of genuine- ness illustrated from, ii. 150; books and authors used or named in, ii. 208, 296. Visconti, Bernardo, Lord of Milan, Chaucer’s mission to, i. 70. Vitellio, Polish mathematician, ii. 391- Vocabulary, Chaucer’s, as a test of genuineness, i. 377, 378, 398, 399. ii. 19-34. 49- 51. 537, 538: general character of, ii. 449- 453. Voltaire, characterization of Shak- speare, iii. 248. Volucraire, alleged obligations of Chau- cer to, iii. 41 1. Wade and his Boat, i- 351- Wakefield, Henry de, i. 62. Waldron, Francis Godolphin, iii. 81. Waller, Edmund, on the permanency of the classic tongues, iii. 83, 84, 140, 146 ; on Chaucer’s versification, iii. Ill; allusions, ii. 223, iii. 109, 147. Walpole, Horace, on enrichment of the lan- guage by Chaucer, ii, 445 ; his ignorance of Early Eng- lish, iii. 151 ; on Dr3Men’s modernizations of Chaucer, iii. 1 58, 1 59 ; his use of the term “ Gothic,” iii. 251, Walsingham, Thomas of, his Historia A 7 iglicana cited, i. 91, 92. Warburton, Bishop, accepts genuineness of the Plowman’s tale, i. 472 ; on Chaucer’s introduction of Provengal words, ii. 448, 449- Ward, Prof. Adolphus William, Chaucer’s age and the Oc- cleve portrait, i. 50. Ward, Mr. Henry, Chaucer’s obligations to La Teseide, ii. 226. Ward, Thomas Humphry, his English Poets cited, iii. 362. Wardships given to Chaucer, i.65. 154. 510 INDEX Warton, Joseph, iii. i86. Warton, Thomas, on Chaucer as a disciple of Gower, i. 149 ; on Chaucer as a student of Oxford, i. 169 ; on the genuineness of the Plowman’s tale, i. 472 ; on the original of the Knight’s tale, ii. 204 ; on Valerius Maximus, ii. 276; on Chaucer’s knowledge of Livy, ii, 279 ; on Benoit de Sainte-More; ii. 310: on the Alexandreid, ii. 354; on Lollius, ii. 406, 407 ; an explorer, iii. 26 ; on Chaucer as a sunny day in an English spring, iii. 27 ; sees Milton’s hand in Phil- lips’s account of Chaucer, iii. 91 ; modernizations of Chaucer, iii. 158, 184; his criticism of Chaucer, iii. 244-253; on Chaucer’s anachronisms, iii. 375 ; on the source of the House of Fame, iii. 397, 398 ; on Chaucer as an imitator of Alain Chartier, iii. 406, Warton, Rev. Thomas, imitations of Chaucer, iii. 125, 126. Webbe, William, his Discourse of English Poetry cited, iii. 42. Weisse, John Adam (M.D,), his Origin, Progress, and Des- tiny of the English Lan- guage and Literature quot- ed, ii.434, 435- Welsted, Leonard, on change in language, iii. 142, 143. West, Gilbert, his use of obsolete words, iii. 152. Westhale, Joan de, abduction of, i. 51. Westminster, Chaucer’s tenement in, i. 93. Weymouth, Dr. R. F., on distinction of sound be- tween here and there, ii. 17, 18. Wharton, Henry, his commendation of Chau- cer’s learning, ii. 171 ; his sketch of Chaucer’s life, ii. 465. Wharton, Richard, his modernization of the Franklin’s tale, iii. 205. Whimsical Legacy, The, Grosve- nor’s, iii. 192. Wife of Bath’s tale. The, alteration of text of, i. 256- 258; textual errors illustrated from, 1.307; illustrations from, of the tests of genuineness, ii. 49, 51, 115, 116, 127, 132, 137, 141, 142, 147, 149; illustration from, of the inac- curacy of Chaucer’s schol- arship, ii. 186 ; books and authors used or named in, ii. 219, 236, 237, 239, 251, 260, 269, 275, 289, 292, 318, 319, 352. 364, 365, 367 ff, 372, 379, 396, 400, 415, iii. 452; Chaucer’s sceptical tendency as shown in, ii. 496 ; the attack upon celibacy ccm- tained in the prologue of, ii. 522-530; imitation of prologue of, by Dunbar, iii. 20 ; commonplaced by Milton, iii. 76: Dryden’s modernization of, iii. 162, 176, 178 ; Pope’s modernization of, iii. 181, 182, 185 ; INDEX 51 1 Chaucer’s literary art as shown in, iii. 340,353,417; prologue of, misapprehended, iii. 360, 361. William of Newburgh, ii. 316. Winstanley, William, his Lives of the English Poets cited, i, 1 59. Wit, Chaucer’s, depreciation of, by the Rev. A. G. K. L’Estrange, iii. 290. ‘ Withouten doute,’ ‘ withouten drede,’ ‘withouten more,’ ‘withouten mo,’ ‘withouten wordes more,’ ‘ withouten wordes mo,’ use of the phrases, as tests of the genuineness of the Ro- mance of the Rose, ii. 92, 544-546, iii. 452. Wolsey, Cardinal, supposed suppression of the Plowman’s tale, i. 462, 467, 469. Woman, Chaucer’s relations to, and attitude towards, i. 97, 98, 1 12-1 1 5, 21 1-221, ii. 7, 291 ff, 515, 522-530, iii. 340-344. Women for their Doubleness, A Ballade in Praise of (No. 46), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 439 ; attributed to Lydgate, i. 475 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Women Unconstant, A Ballade against (No. 45), added to list of Chaucer’s poems by Stow, i. 439 ; the question of its genuine- ness, i. 475, 504 ; classed in this work, i. 504 n. Wood, Anthony a, his Athense Oxonienses cited, i. 281, ii. 444, iii. 87, 98. Woodstock, Chaucer’s supposed residence at, i. 103, 141, 175-177. Woodstock, Thomas of, Duke of Gloucester, i. 82, 83. Worde, Wynken de, his edition of Chaucer’s works, i. 264, iii. 33. Words, Chaucer’s, number of, not yet defined, i, 350; revival of, in sixteenth cen- tury, iii. 58-65. Words and phrases. Distinctive, common to Chaucer’s admit- ted works and Romance of the Rose, ii, 86-121, 539- 551; not common to the two, ii. 103, 104. Wordsworth, William, his dictum that every great original writer must create his own audience, iii. 9 ; his modernizations of Chau- cer, i. 489, iii. 208-210 ; joins in the last of the mod- ernizations, iii. 214-229; his admiration for Chaucer, and for Chaucer’s treatment of simple themes, iii. 259, 441. Works attributed to Chaucer, classification of, with refer- ence to genuineness, i. 503, 504. Wretched Engendering of Man- kind, The, named in the Legend of Good Women, i. 412 ; a translation from the De Con- temptu Mundi of Pope In- nocent III., i. 423, 426, 427. Wright, Thomas, his edition- of Chaucer’s works, i. 313-324, 328, ii. 3 n. ; his attacks on Tyrwhitt’s text, i. 315-321: indebtedness to, of R. Bell’s edition, i. 325. 478 ; his Political Poems and Songs cited, i. 443 n., 460 n. ; 512 INDEX points out the original of the story of Constance in Chau- cer and Gower, ii. 210 ; on the original of the Nun’s Priest’s tale, ii. 21 5 ; on the original of the Reeve’s . tale, i. 315, 319, ii. 216, iii. 413. 414; on the language of Chaucer, ii. 450 ; on Chaucer’s want of origi- nality, iii. 394. Writings of Chaucer, The, (See Table of Coiiteats, chap, ivl) Wyatt, Sir Thomas, love-poetry of, i. 218 ; Nott’s edition of his poems, i. 331; F. Thyfme’s mention of, i. 463; on the Tale of Sir Thopas, iii. 244. Wycliffe, John, Chaucer’s attitude towards, ii. 459-485 ; effects of his teachings, ii. 492-494. Wynne, William W. E., i. 340. Yalden, Thomas, mention of Chaucer, iii. 92. • -ye and -y test of genuineness, i-37i-375. 388-394, ii. 57,58. Young, Edward, i- 334 - . Ypotis, Sir, Romance of, Chaucer’s knowledge of, ii. 201. Zael, Liber FJectionum, ii. 415. Zanzis, unknown author, ii. 41 1, 412. Z. A.Z., his modernization of the Tale 'of Sir Thopas, iii. 217. Zenobia, Chaucer’s error as to, ii. 185, 186. the story of, ii. 231, 233, 235, iii. 12. Zeuxis, conjecture as to identity of Zanzis with, ii. 412. THE END