A history of English literature

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Permissions to use copyrighted material have been courteously granted by the following American publishers:

Brentano’s, Inc. for the right to print extracts from the works of Bernard Shaw; E. P. Dutton & Company for Siegfried Sassoon; Duffield & Company for H. G. Wells; Dodd Mead & Company for Rupert Brooke; Harper & Brothers for Thomas Hardy; John W. Luce & Company for J. M. Synge; and Charles Scribner’s Sons for John Galsworthy, and R. L. Stevenson.

We have also obtained from the literary agents of Rudyard Kipling, Joseph Conrad, and J. E. Flecker, permission to use the selections included from these authors. To all the above we wish to express our acknowledgment and thanks.

CHAPTER I THE OLD ENGLISH PERIOD — THE BEGINNINGS — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND — LITERARY FEATURES OF THE PERIOD — THE LANGUAGE — BEOWULF — OTHER POETRY — PROSE — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

Of the actual facts concerning the origin of English literature we know little indeed. Nearly all the literary history of the period, as far as it concerns the lives of actual writers, is a series of skillful reconstructions based on the texts, fortified by some scanty contemporary references (such as those of Bede), and topped with a mass of conjecture. The results, however, are astonishing and fruitful, as will be seen even in the meager summary that appears in the following pages.

The period is a long one, for it starts with the fifth century and concludes with the Norman Conquest of 1066. The events, however, must be dismissed very quickly. We may begin in 410 with the departure of the Romans, who left behind them a race of semi-civilized Celts. The latter, harassed by the inroads of the savage Caledonians, appealed for help to the adventurous English. The English, coming at first as saviors, remained as conquerors (450–600). In the course of time they gained possession of nearly all the land from the English Channel to the Firth of Forth. Then followed the Christianizing of the pagan English, beginning in Kent (597), a movement that affected very deeply all phases of English life. In succession followed the inroads of the Danes in the ninth century; the rise of Wessex among the early English kingdoms, due in great measure to the personality of King Alfred, who compromised with the Danes by sharing England with them (878); the accession of a Danish dynasty in England (1017); and the Gallicizing of the English Court, a process that was begun before the Conquest of 1066. All these events had their effect on the literature of the period.

1. Pagan Origins. The earliest poems, such as Widsith and Beowulf, present few Christian features, and those that do appear are clearly clumsy additions by later hands. It is fairly certain, therefore, that the earliest poems came over with the pagan conquerors. They were probably the common property of the bards or gleemen, who sang them at the feasts of the warriors. As time went on Christian ideas were imposed upon the heathen poetry, which retained much of its primitive phraseology.

2. Anonymous Origins. Of all the Old English poets, we have direct mention of only one, Cædmon. The name of another poet, Cynewulf, obscurely hinted at in three separate runic or riddling verses. Of the other Old English poets we do not know even the names. Prose came much later, and, as it was used for practical purposes, its authorship is in each case established.

3. The Imitative Quality. Nearly all the prose, and the larger part of the poetry, consists of translations and adaptations from the Latin. The favorite works for translation were the lives of saints, the books of the Bible, and various works of a practical nature. The clergy, who were almost the sole authors, had such text-books at hand, and were rarely capable of reaching beyond them. This secondhand nature of Old English is certainly its most disappointing feature. In most cases the translations are feebly imitative; in a few cases the poets (such as Cynewulf) or the prose-writers (such as Alfred) alter, expand, or comment upon their Latin originals, and then the material is of much greater literary importance.

4. The Manuscripts. It is very likely that only a portion of Old English poetry has survived, though the surviving material is quite representative. The manuscripts that preserve the poetical texts are comparatively late in their discovery, are unique of their kind, and are only four in number. They are (a) the Beowulf manuscript (containing also a portion of a poem Judith), discovered in 1705, and said to have been written about the year 1000; (b) the Junian manuscript, discovered in 1681 by the famous scholar Junius, and now in the Bodleian Library, containing the Cædmon poems; (c) the Exeter Book, in the Exeter Cathedral library (to which it was given by Leofric about 1050, being brought to light again in 1705), which preserves most of the Cynewulf poems; and (d) the Vercelli Book, discovered at Vercelli, near Milan, in 1832, which contains, along with some prose homilies, six Old English poems, including Andreas and Elene.

The Old English language was that of a simple and semi-barbarous people: limited in vocabulary, concrete in ideas, and rude and forcible in expression. In the later stages of their literature we see the crudeness being softened into something more cultured. In grammar the language was fairly complicated, possessing declinable nouns, pronouns, and adjectives, and a rather elaborate verb-system. There were three chief dialects: the Northern or Northumbrian, which was the first to produce a literature, and which was overwhelmed by the Danes; the West Saxon, a form of the Mercian or Midland, which grew to be the standard, as nearly all the texts are preserved in it; and the Kentish or Jutish, which is of little literary importance.

1. Origin of the Poem. It is almost certain that the poem originated before the English invasions. There is no mention of England; Beowulf himself is the king of the “Geatas.” The poem, moreover, is pagan in conception, and so antedates the Christian conversion. With regard to the actual authorship of the work there is no evidence. It is very likely that it is a collection of the tales sung by the bards, strung together by one hand, and written in the West Saxon dialect.

2. The Story. There are so many episodes, digressions, and reversions in the story of Beowulf that it is almost impossible to set it down as a detailed consecutive narrative. Putting it in its very briefest form, we may say that Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, and king of the Geatas, sails to Denmark with a band of heroes, and rids the Danish King Hrothgar of a horrible mere-monster called Grendel. The mother of Grendel meets with the same fate, and Beowulf, having been duly feasted and rewarded, returns to his native land. After a prosperous reign of forty years Beowulf slays the dragon that ravishes his land, but himself receives a mortal wound. The poem concludes with the funeral of the old hero.

3. The Style. We give a short extract, along with a literal translation, to illustrate the style. The short lines of the poem are really half-lines, and in most editions they are printed in pairs across the page. The extract deals with Beowulf’s funeral rites:

It will be observed that the language is abruptly and rudely phrased. The half-lines very frequently consist of mere tags or, as they are called, kennings. Such conventional phrases were the stock-in-trade of the gleemen, and they were employed to keep the narrative in some kind of motion while the invention of the minstrel flagged. At least half of the lines in the extract are kennings—beorhtū byrnū, hláf-ord leófne, higū un-róte, and so on. Such phrases occur again and again in Old English poetry. It will also be observed that the lines are strongly rhythmical, but not metrical; and that there is a system of alliteration, consisting as a rule of two alliterated sounds in the first half-line and one in the second half-line.

With regard to the general narrative style of the poem, there is much primitive vigor in the fighting, sailing, and feasting; a deep appreciation of the terrors of the sea and of other elemental forces; and a fair amount of rather tedious repetition and digression. Beowulf, in short, may be justly regarded as the expression of a hardy, primitive, seafaring folk, reflecting their limitations as well as their virtues.

1. The Pagan Poems. The bulk of Old English poetry is of a religious cast, but a few pieces are distinctly secular.

(a) Widsith (i.e., “the far traveler”) is usually considered to be the oldest poem in the language. It consists of more than a hundred lines of verse, in which a traveler, real or imaginary, recounts the places and persons he has visited. Since he mentions several historical personages, the poem is of much interest, but as pure poetry it has little merit.

(b) Waldhere (or Walter) consists of two fragments, sixty-eight lines in all, giving some of the exploits of a famous Burgundian hero. There is much real vigor in the poem, which ranks high among its fellows.

(c) The Fight at Finnesburgh, a fragment of fifty lines, contains a finely told description of the fighting at Finnesburgh.

(d) The Battle of Brunanburgh is a spirited piece on this famous fight, which took place in 937. The poem has much more spirit and originality than usual, contains some fine descriptions, and forces the narrative along at a comparatively fast pace.

(e) The Battle of Maldon is a fragment, but of uncommon freshness and vivacity. The battle occurred in 993, and the poem seems to be contemporary with the event.

2. The Dramatic Monologues. These poems, which are called The Wanderer, The Seafarer, Deor’s Complaint, The Wife’s Complaint, The Husband’s Message, and Wulf and Eadwacer, appear in the Exeter Book. It is unlikely that they were composed at the same time, but they are alike in a curious meditative pathos. In Old English literature they come nearest to the lyric. As poetry, they possess the merit of being both original and personal, qualities not common in the poems of the period.

3. The Cædmon Group. In his Historia Ecclesiastica Bede tells the story of a herdsman Cædmon, who by divine inspiration was transformed from a state of tongue-tied ineffectiveness into that of poetical ecstasy. He was summoned into the presence of Hilda of Whitby, who was abbess during the years 658–80. He was created a monk, and thereafter sang of many Biblical events. On a blank page of one of the Bede manuscripts there is quoted the first divinely inspired hymn of Cædmon, a rude and distinctly uninspired fragment of poetry, nine lines in all, composed in the ancient Northumbrian dialect.

That is all we know of the life and works of Cædmon; but in the Junian manuscript a series of religious paraphrases was unearthed in the year 1651. In subject they corresponded rather closely to the list set out by Bede, and in a short time they were ascribed to Cædmon. The poems consist of paraphrases of Genesis, Exodus, and Daniel and three shorter poems, the chief of which is the Harrowing of Hell. Modern scholarship now recognizes that the poems are by different hands, but the works can be conveniently lumped together under the name of the shadowy Northumbrian. The poems appear in the West Saxon dialect, in spite of the fact that Cædmon must have written in his own dialect; but the difficulty is overcome by pointing out that a West Saxon scribe might have copied the poems.

In merit the poems are unequal. At their best they are not sublime poetry, but they are strong and spirited pieces with some aptitude in description. On the average they are trudging mediocrities which are frequently prosaic and dull.

4. The Cynewulf Group. In 1840 the scholar Kemble lighted upon three runic (or pre-Roman) signatures which appeared respectively in the course of the poems called Christ and Juliana (in the Exeter Book) and Elene (in the Vercelli Book). The signatures read “Cynewulf” or “Cynwulf.” In 1888 a signature “Fwulcyn” was discovered in The Fates of the Apostles. This is all we know of Cynewulf, if we accept the quite general personalities that appear in the course of the poems. Yet an elaborate life has been built up for the poet, and other poems, similar in style to the signed pieces, have been attributed to him. The Phœnix, The Dream of the Rood, and the Riddles of the Exeter Book are the most considerable of the additional poems.

The Cynewulfian poems are much more scholarly compositions than the Beowulf or even the Cædmon poems. There is a greater power of expression, less reliance on the feeble kenning, and some real expertness in description. The ideas expressed in the poems are broader and deeper, and a certain lyrical fervor is not wanting. The date is probably the tenth century.

1. Alfred (848–900). Though there were some prose writings of an official nature (such as the laws of Ine, who died about 730) before the time of Alfred, there can be little objection to the claim frequently made for him, that he is “the father of English prose.” As he tells us himself in his preface to the Pastoral Care, he was driven into authorship by the lamentable state of English learning, due in large measure to the depredations of the Danes. Even the knowledge of Latin was evaporating, so the King, in order to preserve some show of learning among the clergy, was compelled to translate some popular monastic handbooks into his own tongue. These works are his contribution to our literature. As he says, they were often “interpreted word for word, and meaning for meaning”; but they are made much more valuable by reason of the original passages freely introduced into them. The books, four in number, are an able selection from the popular treatises of the day: the Universal History of Orosius; the Ecclesiastical History of Bede; the Pastoral Care of Pope Gregory; and the Consolation of Philosophy of Boëthius. His claim to the translation of Bede is sometimes disputed; and there is a fifth work, a Handbook or commonplace book, which has been lost. The chronological order of the translations cannot be determined, but they were all written during the last years of the reign.

We add a brief extract to illustrate his prose style. It is not a highly polished style; it is rather that of an earnest but somewhat unpracticed writer. When it is simplest it is best; in its more complicated passages it is confusing and involved. The vocabulary is simple and unforced.

2. Ælfric (955–1020) is known as “the Grammarian.” Of his life little is known. It is probable that he lived near Winchester, and he was certainly the first abbot of Eynsham, near Oxford, in 1006. A fair number of his works, both in Latin and English, have come down to us. Of his English books, two series of homilies, adapted from the Latin, seem to have been composed about the year 990. A third series of homilies, called The Lives of the Saints, is dated approximately at 996. Several of his pastoral letters survive, as well as a translation of Bede’s De Temporibus and some English translations of Biblical passages.

Ælfric’s style is interesting, for it is representative of the scholarly prose of his time, a century after Alfred. It is flowing and vigorous, showing an almost excessive use of alliteration. In many cases it suggests a curious hybrid between the poetry and prose of the period.

3. Wulfstan was Archbishop of York from 1003 till his death in 1023. In his prose, which survives in more than fifty homilies and in his famous Letter to the English People (Lupi Sermo ad Anglos), he shows the effects of “style” to a marked degree. His Letter in particular is a fervid epistle, detailing with considerable power and fluency the dreadful plight of the English nation in the year 1014. The alliteration and rhythm are exceedingly well marked, much more so than in the case of Ælfric.

4. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle was probably inspired by King Alfred, who is said even to have dictated the entries dealing with his own campaigns. The Chronicle has come down to us in four versions, all of which seem to have sprung from a common stock. The four versions are preserved in seven manuscripts, of which the most notable are those connected with Canterbury and Peterborough. From the period of the English invasions till the year 892 the books are fairly in accord. At the latter year they diverge. Each introduces its local events and miscellaneous items of news, and they finish at different dates. The last date of all is about the middle of the twelfth century.

The style of the Chronicle varies greatly; it ranges from the baldest notes and summaries to quite ambitious passages of narrative and description. Of the latter class the well-known passage on the horrors of Stephen’s reign is a worthy example. We give a brief extract, dated 1100, just at the close of the Old English period, which is a fair average of the different methods:

From the time when it first appears till it is swamped by the Norman Conquest Old English literature undergoes a quite noticeable development. In the mass the advance appears to be considerable, but when we reflect that it represents the growth of some five hundred years, we see that the rate of progress is undoubtedly slow. We shall take the poetical and prose forms separately.

1. Poetry. Poetry is much earlier in the field, and its development is the greater. It begins with the rude forms of Beowulf and concludes with the more scholarly paraphrases of Cynewulf.

(a) The epic in its untutored form exists in Beowulf. This poem lacks the finer qualities of the epic: it is deficient in the strict unity, the high dignity, and the broad motive of the great classical epic; but a crude vigor and a certain rude majesty are not wanting. It is no mean beginning for the English epic. The later poems of the Cædmon and Cynewulf types are too discursive and didactic to be epics, though in places they are like The Battle of Maldon and The Fight at Finnesburgh in their narrative force.

(b) The lyric—that is, the short and passionate expression of a personal feeling—hardly exists at all. The nearest approach to it lies in the dramatic monologues, such as Deor’s Complaint. These poems are too long and diffuse to be real lyrics, but they have some of the expressive melancholy and personal emotion of the lyric.

2. Prose. The great bulk of Old English prose consists of translation; and in its various shapes English prose adopts the methods of its originals. We have many homilies, some history, and a few pastoral letters, all based strictly upon Latin works. There are very few passages of real originality, and they are short and disjointed. Of historical writing we have the rudiments in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. On the whole, the development is very small, for the prose is bound by the curse of imitativeness.

1. Poetry. We have once more to distinguish between the earlier Beowulf stage and the later Cynewulf stage. In the earlier period the style is more disjointed, abrupt, and digressive, and is weighted down by the reliance upon the kenning. In the later stage there is greater passion and insight, less reliance upon the stock phrases, and a greater desire for stylistic effects.

2. Prose. In spite of its limited scope, Old English prose shows quite an advance in style. The earlier style, represented by the prose of Alfred, is rather halting and unformed, the sentences are loosely knit, the vocabulary is meager, and there is an absence of the finer qualities of rhythm and cadence. By the time of Wulfstan the prose has gained in fluency. It is much more animated and confident, and it freely employs alliteration and the commoner rhetorical figures.

But within this development both of prose and poetry there was already the seed of decay. During the last century of the period the poetical impulse was weakening; there is little verse after the time of Cynewulf. The prose too was failing, and the language was showing symptoms of weakness. The inflections were loosening even before the Norman Conquest, and the Old English vocabulary was being subtly Gallicized. The Norman Conquest was in time to put an abrupt finish to a process already well advanced.

1. Examine the style of the following poetical passages. Point out examples of kennings, and mention the purposes they serve. Comment upon the type of sentence, the use of alliteration, and the nature of the vocabulary. Compare the style with that of the Beowulf extract given on page 4.

2. Comment briefly upon the style of the following prose extract. How does it compare with modern English prose?

3. What appears to you to be the reasons why in Old English poetry appears before prose?

4. Mention some of the effects of translation upon both the poetry and the prose of the Old English.

5. “Old English prose is much nearer modern English prose than Old English poetry is to modern English poetry.” Discuss this statement.

CHAPTER II THE MIDDLE ENGLISH PERIOD — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1050–1350) — STATE OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE — LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE — POETRY — PROSE — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF STYLE IN POETRY — EXERCISES

The extensive period covered by this chapter saw many developments in the history of England: the establishment of Norman and Angevin dynasties; the class-struggle between king, nobles, clergy, and people; and the numerous wars against France, Scotland, and Wales. But, from the literary point of view, much more important than definite events were the general movements of the times: the rise of the religious orders, their early enthusiasm, and their subsequent decay; the blossoming of chivalry and the spirit of romance, bringing new sympathy for the poor and for womankind; the Crusades, and the widening of the European outlook which was gradually to expand into the rebirth of the intellect known as the Renaissance. All these were only symptoms of a growing intelligence that was strongly reflected in the literature of the time.

This period witnesses the disappearance of the pure Old English language and the emergence of the mixed Anglo-French or Middle English speech that was to be the parent of modern English. As a written language Old English disappears about 1050, and, also as a written language, Middle English first appears about the year 1200. With the appearance of the Brut about 1200 we have the beginning of the numerous Middle English texts, amply illustrating the changes that have been wrought in the interval: the loss of a great part of the Old English vocabulary; a great and growing inrush of French words; the confusion, crumbling, and ultimate loss of most of the old inflections; and the development of the dialects. There are three main dialects in Middle English: the Northern, corresponding to the older Northumbrian; the Midland, corresponding to Mercian; and the Southern, corresponding to the Old English Kentish or Southern. None of the three can claim the superiority until late in the period, when the Midland gradually assumes a slight predominance that is strongly accentuated in the period following.

The latter part of the three hundred years now under review provides a large amount of interesting, important, and sometimes delightful works. It is, however, the general features that count for most, for there is hardly anything of outstanding individual importance.

1. The Transition. The period is one of transition and experiment. The old poetical methods are vanishing, and the poets are groping after a new system. English poets had two models to follow—the French and the Latin, which were not entirely independent of each other. For a time, early in the period, the French and Latin methods weighed heavily upon English literature; but gradually the more typically native features, such as the systematic use of alliteration, emerge. It is likely that all the while oral tradition had preserved the ancient methods in popular songs, but that influence was slight for a long period after the Norman Conquest.

2. The anonymous nature of the writing is still strongly in evidence. A large proportion of the works are entirely without known authors; most of the authors whose names appear are names only; there is indeed only one, the Hermit of Hampole, about whom we have any definite biographical detail. There is an entire absence of any outstanding literary personality.

3. The Domination of Poetry. The great bulk of the surviving material is poetry, which is used for many kinds of miscellaneous work, such as history, geography, divinity, and rudimentary science. Most of the work is monastic hack-work, and much of it is in consequence of little merit.

Compared with poetry of the period, the prose is meager in quantity and undeveloped in style. The common medium of the time was Latin and French, and English prose was starved. Nearly all the prose consists of homilies, of the nature of the Ancren Riwle; and most of them are servile translations from Latin, and destitute of individual style.

For the sake of convenience we can classify the different poems into three groups, according to the nature of their subjects.

1. The Rhyming Chronicles. During this period there is an unusual abundance of chronicles in verse. They are distinguished by their ingenuous use of incredible stories, the copiousness of their invention, and in no small number of cases by the vivacity of their style.

(a) The Brut. This poem was written by a certain Layamon about the year 1205. We gather a few details about the author in a brief prologue to the poem itself. He seems to have been a monk in Gloucestershire; his language certainly is of a nature that corresponds closely to the dialect of that district. The work, thirty thousand lines in length, is a paraphrase and expansion of the Anglo-Norman Brut d’Angleterre of Wace, who in turn simply translated from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Latin history of Britain. In the Brut the founder of the British race is Brutus, great-grandson of Æneas of Troy. Brutus lands in England, founds London, and becomes the progenitor of the earliest line of British kings. In style the poem is often lifeless, though it has a naïve simplicity that is attractive. The form of the work, however, is invaluable as marking the transition from the Old English to the Middle English method.

Alliteration, the basis of the earlier types, survives in a casual manner; at irregular intervals there are rudely rhyming couplets, suggesting the newer methods; the lines themselves, though they are of fairly uniform length, can rarely be scanned; the basis of the line seems to be four accents, occurring with fair regularity. The following extract should be scrutinized carefully to bring out these features:

(b) Robert of Gloucester is known only through his rhyming history. From internal evidence it is considered likely that he wrote about 1300. From his dialect, and from local details that he introduces into the poem, it is probable that he belonged to Gloucestershire. Drawing largely upon Layamon, Geoffrey of Monmouth, and other chroniclers, he begins his history of England with Brutus and carries it down to the year 1270. The style of the poem is often lively enough; and the meter, though rough and irregular, often suggests the later “fourteener.” As a rule the lines are longer than those of the Brut, and the number of accents is greater.

(c) Robert Manning (1264–1340) is sometimes known as Robert of Brunne, or Bourne, in Lincolnshire. In 1288 he entered a Gilbertine monastery near his native town. His Story of Ingelond (1338) begins with the Deluge, and traces the descent of the English kings back to Noah. The latter portion of the book is based upon the work of Pierre de Langtoft, and the first part upon Wace’s Brut. The meter is a kind of chaotic alexandrine verse; but an interesting feature is that the couplet rhymes are carefully executed, with the addition of occasional middle rhymes.

Manning’s Handlyng Synne (1303) is a religious manual based on a French work, Manuel des Pechiez. The poem, which is thirteen thousand lines in length, is a series of metrical sermons on the Ten Commandments, the Seven Deadly Sins, and the Seven Sacraments. The author knows how to enliven the work with agreeable anecdotes, and there are signs of a keen observation. The meter is an approximation to the octosyllabic couplet.

Manning’s language is of importance because it marks a close approach to that of Chaucer: a comparative absence of old words and inflections, a copious use of the later French terms, and the adoption of new phrases.

(d) Laurence Minot, who probably flourished about 1350, appears as the author of eleven political songs, which were first published in 1795. The pieces, which sing of the exploits of Edward III, are violently patriotic in temper, and have a rudely poetical vigor. Their meters are often highly developed.

2. Religious and Didactic Poetry. Like most of the other poetry of the period, this kind was strongly imitative, piously credulous, and enormous in length.

(a) The Ormulum, by a certain Orm, or Ormin, is usually dated at 1200. As it survives it is an enormous fragment, twenty thousand lines in length, and composed in the East Midland dialect. It consists of a large number of religious homilies addressed to a person called Walter. Of poetical merit the poem is destitute; but it is unique in the immense care shown over a curious and complicated system of spelling, into which we have not the space to enter. Its metrical form is noteworthy: a rigidly iambic measure, rhymeless, arranged in alternate lines of eight and seven syllables respectively. This regularity of meter is another unique feature of the poem, which we illustrate by an extract:

(b) The Owl and the Nightingale, the date of which is commonly given as 1250, is attributed to Nicholas of Guildford. The poem consists of a long argument between the nightingale, representing the lighter joys of life, and the owl, which stands for wisdom and sobriety. The poem is among the most lively of its kind, and the argument tends to become heated. In meter it is rhyming octosyllabic couplets, much more regular than was common at the time.

(c) The Orison to Our Lady, Genesis and Exodus, the Bestiary, the Moral Ode, the Proverbs of Alfred, and the Proverbs of Hendyng are usually placed about the middle of the thirteenth century. Of originality there is little to comment upon; but as metrical experiments they are of great importance. The Proverbs show some regular stanza-formation, and the Moral Ode is remarkable for the steadiness and maturity of its measure, a long line coming very close to the fourteener.

(d) The Cursor Mundi was composed about 1320. It is a kind of religious epic, twenty-four thousand lines long, composed in the Northern dialect. The author, who divides his history into seven stages, draws upon both the Old and the New Testaments. The meter shows a distinct advance in its grip of the octosyllabic couplet.

(e) Richard Rolle of Hampole, who died in 1349, is one of the few contemporary figures about whom definite personal facts are recorded. He was born in Yorkshire, educated at Oxford, and ran away from home to become a hermit. Subsequently he removed to Hampole, near Doncaster, where he enjoyed a great reputation for sanctity and good works.

He wrote some miscellaneous prose and a few short poems, but his chief importance lies in his authorship of the long poem The Pricke of Conscience. This work, which is based upon the writings of the early Christian Fathers, describes the joys and sorrows of a man’s life as he is affected in turn by good and evil. The meter is a close approximation to the octosyllabic couplet, which shows extensions and variations that often resemble the heroic measure. It has been suggested that Hampole is the first English writer to use the heroic couplet; but it is almost certain that his heroic couplets are accidental.

(f) The Alliterative Poems. In a unique manuscript, now preserved in the British Museum, are found four remarkably fine poems in the West Midland dialect: Pearl, Cleannesse, Patience, and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. There is no indication of the authorship, but judging from the similarity of the style it is considered likely that they are by the same poet. The date is about 1300. The first three poems are religious in theme, and of them Pearl is undoubtedly the best. This poem, half allegorical in nature, tells of a vision in which the poet seeks his precious pearl that has slipped away from him. In his quest he spies his pearl, which seems to be the symbol of a dead maiden, and obtains a glimpse of the Eternal Jerusalem. The poem, which contains long discussions between the poet and the pearl, has some passages of real, moving beauty, and there is a sweet melancholy inflection in some of the verses that is rare indeed among the fumbling poetasters of the time. The meter is extraordinarily complicated: heavily alliterated twelve-lined stanzas, with intricate rhymes arranged on a triple basis (see p. 149). Cleannesse and Patience, more didactic in theme, are of less interest and beauty, but they have an exultation and stern energy that make them conspicuous among the poems of the period. They are composed in a kind of alliterative blank verse. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is one of the most captivating of the romances. Its meter also is freely alliterated and built into irregular rhyming stanzas which sometimes run into twenty lines.

3. The Metrical Romances. The great number of the romances that now appear in our literature can be classified according to subject.

(a) The romances dealing with early English history and its heroes were very numerous. Of these the lively Horn and Havelock the Dane and the popular Guy of Warwick and Bevis of Hampton were among the best. Even contemporary history was sometimes drawn upon, as in the well-known Richard Cœur-de-Lion.

(b) Allied to the last group are the immense number of Arthurian romances, which are closely related and often of high merit. Sir Tristrem, one of the earliest, is by no means one of the worst; to it we may add the famous Arthur and Merlin, Ywain and Gawain, the Morte d’Arthure, and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

(c) There was also a large number of classical themes, such as the exploits of Alexander the Great and the siege of Troy. King Alisaunder is very long, but of more than average merit. Further examples are Sir Orpheo and The Destruction of Troy.

(d) The group dealing with the feats of Charlemagne is smaller, and the quality is lower. Rauf Coilyear, an alliterative romance, is probably the best of them, and to it we may add Sir Ferumbras.

(e) A large number of the romances deal with events which are to some extent contemporary with the composition. They are miscellaneous in subject, but they are of much interest and some of them of great beauty. Amis and Amiloun is a touching love-story; William of Palerne is on the familiar “missing heir” theme; and The Squire of Low Degree, who loved the king’s daughter of Hungary, is among the best known of all the romances.

It would take a volume to comment in detail upon the romances. The variety of their meter and style is very great; but in general terms we may say that the prevailing subject is of a martial and amatory nature; there is the additional interest of the supernatural, which enters freely into the story; and one of the most attractive features to the modern reader of this delightful class of fiction is the frequent glimpses obtainable into the habits of the time.

1. The Ancren Riwle, or Rule of Anchoresses, is one of the earliest of Middle English prose texts, for it dates from about 1200. The book, which is written in a simple, matter-of-fact style, is a manual composed for the guidance of a small religious community of women which then existed in Somersetshire. Nothing certain is known regarding the author. Its Southern dialect shows some traces of Midland. As in some respects the text is the forerunner of modern prose, we give an extract:

2. The Ayenbite of Inwyt was written by Dan Michel of Northgate, who flourished about 1340. The book is a servile translation of a French work, and is of little literary importance. To the philologist it is very useful as an example of the Southern dialect of the period.

1. Poetry. (a) Meter. The most interesting feature of this period is the development of the modern system of rhymed meters, which displaced the Old English alliterative measures. Between the Old English poems of Cynewulf (about 950) and the Middle English Brut (about 1205) there is a considerable gap both in time and in development. This gap is only slightly bridged by the few pieces which we proceed to quote.

A quatrain dated at about 1100 is as follows:

In this example we have two rough couplets. The first pair rhyme, and in the second pair there is a fair example of assonance. The meter, as far as it exists at all, is a cross between octosyllables and decasyllables.

A few brief fragments by Godric, who died in 1170, carry the process still further. The following lines may be taken as typical:

These lines are almost regular, and the rhyme in the second couplet is perfect.

The Brut, with its ragged four-accented and nearly rhymeless lines, shows no further advance; but the Ormulum, though it does without rhyme, is remarkable for the regularity of its meter. Then during the thirteenth century there comes a large number of poems, chiefly romances and homilies. Much of the verse, such as in Horn, Havelock the Dane, and the works of Manning, is in couplet form. It is nearly doggerel very often, and hesitates between four and five feet. This is the rough work that Chaucer is to make perfect. The following example of this traditional verse should be carefully scanned:

During the fourteenth century, with the increase of dexterity, came the desire for experiment. Stanzas in the manner of the French were developed, and the short or bobbed line was introduced. The expansion of the lyric helped the development of the stanza. Thus we pass through the fairly elaborate meters of Minot, the Proverbs of Hendyng, and the romances (like The King of Tars) in the Romance sestette, to the extremely complicated verses of Sir Tristrem, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and Pearl. We add a specimen of the popular Romance sestette, and a verse from a popular song of the period.

(b) The Lyric. The most delightful feature of the period is the appearance of the lyric. There can be little doubt that from Old English times popular songs were common, but it is not till the thirteenth century that they receive a permanent place in the manuscripts. We then obtain several specimens that for sweetness and lyrical power are most satisfying.

Apart from its native element, the lyric of the time drew its main inspiration from the songs of the French jongleurs and the magnificent, rhymed Latin hymns (such as Dies Iræ and Stabat Mater) of the Church. These hymns, nobly phrased and rhymed, were splendid models to follow. Many of the early English lyrics were devoutly religious in theme, especially those addressed to the Virgin Mary; a large number, such as the charming Alysoun, are love-lyrics; and many more, such as the cuckoo song quoted below (one of the oldest of all), are nature-lyrics. In the song below note the regularity of the meter:

(c) The Metrical Romances. A romance was originally a composition in the Romance tongue, but the meaning was narrowed into that of a tale of the kind described in the next paragraph. Romances were brought into England by the French minstrels, who as early as the eleventh century had amassed a large quantity of material. By the beginning of the fourteenth century the romance appears in English, and from that point the rate of production is great. Romantic tales are the main feature of the literature of the time.

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

The chief features of the romance were: a long story, cumulative in construction, chiefly of a journey or a quest; a strong martial element, with an infusion of the supernatural and wonderful; characters, usually of high social rank, and of fixed type and rudimentary workmanship, such as the knightly hero, the distressed damsel, and the wicked enchanter; and a style that was simple to quaintness, but in the better specimens was spirited and suggestive of mystery and wonder. In meter it ranged from the simple couplet of The Squire of Low Degree to the twenty-lined stanza of Sir Tristrem. In its later stages, as Chaucer satirized it in Sir Thopas, the romance became extravagant and ridiculous, but at its best it was a rich treasure-house of marvelous tales.

2. Prose. The small amount of prose is strictly practical in purpose, and its development as a species of literature is to come later.

With poetry in such an immature condition, it can be easily understood that style is of secondary importance. The prevailing, almost the universal, style is one of artless simplicity. Very often, owing chiefly to lack of practice on the part of the poet, the style becomes obscure; and when more ambitious schemes of meter are attempted (as in Pearl) the same cause leads to the same result. Humor is rarely found in Middle English, but quaint touches are not entirely lacking, as facts revealed in the life of Hampole show. Pathos of a solemn and elevated kind appears in the Moral Ode, and the romance called The Pistyl of Susan and the Pearl, already mentioned, have passages of simple pathos.

1. The following extracts show the development of English poetry from Old English to Chaucerian times. Trace the changes in meter (scansion, rhyme, and stanza-formation), alliteration, and style. Are there any traces of refinements such as melody and vowel-music?

2. Account for the poor quality of English prose during this period.

3. What were the effects of the Norman Conquest upon English literature?

4. Describe the main features of the romance.

CHAPTER III THE AGE OF CHAUCER — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1350–1450) — LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE — GEOFFREY CHAUCER (1340–1400) — OTHER POETS — PROSE-WRITERS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

Compared with the periods covered by the last two chapters, the period now under review is quite short. It includes the greater part of the reign of Edward III and the long French wars associated with his name; the accession of his grandson Richard II (1377); and the revolution of 1399, the deposition of Richard, and the foundation of the Lancastrian dynasty. From the literary point of view, of greater importance are the social and intellectual movements of the period: the terrible plague called the Black Death, bringing poverty, unrest, and revolt among the peasants, and the growth of the spirit of inquiry, which was strongly critical of the ways of the Church, and found expression in the teachings of Wyclif and the Lollards, and in the stern denunciations of Langland.

1. The Standardizing of English. The period of transition is now nearly over. The English language has shaken down to a kind of average—to the standard of the East Midland speech, the language of the capital city and of the universities. The other dialects, with the exception of the Scottish branch, rapidly melt away from literature, till they become quite exiguous. French and English have amalgamated to form the standard English tongue, which attains to its first full expression in the works of Chaucer.

2. A curious “modern” note begins to be apparent at this period. There is a sharper spirit of criticism, a more searching interest in man’s affairs, and a less childlike faith in, and a less complacent acceptance of, the established order. The vogue of the romance, though it has by no means gone, is passing, and in Chaucer it is derided. The freshness of the romantic ideal is being superseded by the more acute spirit of the drama, which even at this early time is faintly foreshadowed. Another more modern feature that at once strikes the observer is that the age of anonymity is passing away. Though many of the texts still lack named authors, the greater number of the books can be definitely ascribed. Moreover, we have for the first time a figure of outstanding literary importance, who gives to the age the form and pressure of his genius.

3. Prose. This era sees the foundation of an English prose style. Earlier specimens have been experimental or purely imitative; now, in the works of Mandeville and Malory, we have prose that is both original and individual. The English tongue is now ripe for a prose style. The language is settling to a standard; Latin and French are losing grip as popular prose mediums; and the growing desire for an English Bible exercises a steady pressure in favor of a standard English prose.

4. Scottish Literature. For the first time in our literature, in the person of Barbour (died 1395), Scotland supplies a writer worthy of note. This is only the beginning; for the tradition is handed on to the powerful group of poets who are mentioned in the next chapter.

1. His Life. In many of the documents of the time Chaucer’s name is mentioned with some frequency; and these references, in addition to some remarks he makes regarding himself in the course of his poems, are the sum of what we know about his life. The date of his birth is uncertain, but it is now generally accepted as being 1340. He was born in London, entered the household of the wife of the Duke of Clarence (1357), and saw military service abroad, where he was captured. Next he seems to have entered the royal household, for he is frequently mentioned as the recipient of royal pensions and bounties. When Richard II succeeded to the crown (1377) Chaucer was confirmed in his offices and pensions, and shortly afterward (1378) he was sent to Italy on one of his several diplomatic missions. More pecuniary blessings followed; then ensued a period of depression, due probably to the departure to Spain (1387) of his patron John of Gaunt; but his life closed with a revival of his prosperity. He was the first poet to be buried in what is now known as Poets’ Corner in Westminster Abbey.

2. His Poems. The order of Chaucer’s poems cannot be ascertained with certitude, but from internal evidence they can as a rule be approximately dated.

It is now customary to divide the Chaucerian poems into three stages: the French, the Italian, and the English, of which the last is a development of the first two.

(a) The poems of the earliest or French group are closely modeled upon French originals, and the style is clumsy and immature. Of such poems the longest is The Romaunt of the Rose, a lengthy allegorical poem, written in octosyllabic couplets, and based upon Jean de Meung’s Le Roman de la Rose. This poem, which, though it extends to eight thousand lines, is only a fragment, was once entirely ascribed to Chaucer, but recent research, based upon a scrutiny of Chaucerian style, has decided that only the first part, amounting to seventeen hundred lines, is his work. Other poems of this period include The Dethe of the Duchesse, probably his earliest, and dated 1369, the date of the Duchess’s death, The Compleynte unto Pité, Chaucer’s ABC, The Compleynte of Mars, The Compleynte of Faire Anelida, and The Parlement of Foules. Of these the last is the longest; it has a fine opening, but, as so often happens at this time, the work diffuses into long speeches and descriptions.

(b) The second or Italian stage shows a decided advance upon the first. In the handling of the meters the technical ability is greater, and there is a growing keenness of perception and a greater stretch of originality. Troilus and Cressida is a long poem adapted from Boccaccio. By far the greater part of the poem is original, and the rhyme royal stanzas, of much dexterity and beauty, abound in excellent lines that often suggest the sonnets of Shakespeare. The poem suffers from the prevailing diffuseness; but the pathos of the story is touched upon with a passionate intensity.

The Hous of Fame, a shorter poem in octosyllabic couplets, is of the dream-allegory type, as most of Chaucer’s poems of this period are; and it is of special importance because it shows gleams of the genuine Chaucerian humor. In this group is also included The Legende of Good Women, in which Chaucer, starting with the intention of telling nineteen affecting tales of virtuous women of antiquity, finishes with eight accomplished and the ninth only begun. After a charming introduction on the daisy, there is some masterly narrative, particularly in the portion dealing with Cleopatra. The meter is the heroic couplet, with which Chaucer was to familiarize us in The Canterbury Tales.

(c) The third or English group contains work of the greatest individual accomplishment. The achievement of this period is The Canterbury Tales, though one or two of the separate tales may be of slightly earlier composition. For the general idea of the tales Chaucer may be indebted to Boccaccio, but in nearly every important feature the work is essentially English. For the purposes of his poem Chaucer draws together twenty-nine pilgrims, including himself. They meet at the Tabard Inn, in Southwark, in order to go on a pilgrimage to the tomb of Thomas à Becket at Canterbury. The twenty-nine are carefully chosen types, of both sexes, and of all ranks, from a knight to a humble plowman; their occupations and personal peculiarities are many and diverse; and, as they are depicted in the masterly Prologue to the main work, they are interesting, alive, and thoroughly human. At the suggestion of the host of the Tabard, and to relieve the tedium of the journey, each of the pilgrims is to tell two tales on the outward journey, and two on the return. In its entirety the scheme would have resulted in an immense collection of over a hundred tales. But as it happens Chaucer finished only twenty, and left four partly complete. The separate tales are linked with their individual prologues, and with dialogues and scraps of narrative. Even in its incomplete state the work is a small literature in itself, an almost unmeasured abundance and variety of humor and pathos, of narrative and description, and of dialogue and digression. There are two prose tales, Chaucer’s own Tale of Melibœus and The Parson’s Tale; and nearly all the others are composed in a powerful and versatile species of the heroic couplet.

To this last stage of Chaucer’s work several short poems are ascribed, including The Lack of Stedfastness and the serio-comic Compleynte of Chaucer to his Purse.

There is also mention of a few short early poems, such as Origines upon the Maudeleyne, which have been lost.

During his lifetime Chaucer built up such a reputation as a poet that many works were at a later date ascribed to him without sufficient evidence. Of this group the best examples are The Flower and the Leaf, quite an excellent example of the dream-allegory type, and The Court of Love. It has now been settled that these poems are not truly his.

3. His Prose. The two prose tales cannot be regarded as among Chaucer’s successful efforts. Both of them—that is, The Tale of Melibœus and The Parson’s Tale on Penitence—are lifeless in style and full of tedious moralizings. Compared with earlier prose works they nevertheless mark an advance. They have a stronger grasp of sentence-construction, and in vocabulary they are copious and accurate. The other prose works of Chaucer are an early translation of Boëthius, and a treatise, composed for the instruction of his little son Lewis, on the astrolabe, then a popular astronomical instrument.

The following extract is a fair example of his prose:

4. Features of his Poetry. (a) The first thing that strikes the eye is the unique position that Chaucer’s work occupies in the literature of the age. He is first, with no competitor for hundreds of years to challenge his position. He is, moreover, the forerunner in the race of great literary figures that henceforth, in fairly regular succession, dominate the ages they live in.

(b) His Observation. Among Chaucer’s literary virtues his acute faculty of observation is very prominent. He was a man of the world, mixing freely with all types of mankind; and he used his opportunities to observe the little peculiarities of human nature. He had the seeing eye, the retentive memory, the judgment to select, and the capacity to expound; hence the brilliance of his descriptions, which we shall note in the next paragraph.

(c) His Descriptions. Success in descriptive passages depends on vivacity and skill in presentation, as well as on the judgment shown in the selection of details. Chaucer’s best descriptions, of men, manners, and places, are of the first rank in their beauty, impressiveness, and humor. Even when he follows the common example of the time, as when giving details of conventional spring mornings and flowery gardens, he has a vivacity that makes his poetry unique. Many poets before him had described the break of day, but never with the real inspiration that appears in the following lines:

The Prologue contains ample material to illustrate Chaucer’s power in describing his fellow-men. We shall add an extract to show him in another vein. Observe the selection of detail, the terseness and adequacy of epithet, and the masterly handling of the couplet.

(d) His Humor and Pathos. In the literature of his time, when so few poets seem to have any perception of the fun in life, the humor of Chaucer is invigorating and delightful. The humor, which steeps nearly all his poetry, has great variety: kindly and patronizing, as in the case of the Clerk of Oxenford; broad and semi-farcical, as in the Wife of Bath; pointedly satirical, as in the Pardoner and the Summoner; or coarse, as happens in the tales of the Miller, the Reeve, and the Pardoner. It is seldom that the satirical intent is wholly lacking, as it is in the case of the Good Parson, but, except in rare cases, the satire is good-humored and well-meant. The prevailing feature of Chaucer’s humor is its urbanity: the man of the world’s kindly tolerance of the weaknesses of his erring fellow-mortals.

Chaucer lays less emphasis on pathos, but it is not overlooked. In the poetry of Chaucer the sentiment is humane and unforced. We have excellent examples of pathos in the tale of the Prioress and in The Legende of Good Women.

We give a short extract from the long conversation between Chaucer and the eagle (“with fethres all of gold”) which carried him off to the House of Fame. The bird, with its cool acceptance of things, is an appropriate symbol of Chaucer himself in his attitude toward the world.

(e) His Narrative Power. As a story-teller Chaucer employs somewhat tortuous methods, but his narrative possesses a curious stealthy speed. His stories, viewed strictly as stories, have most of the weaknesses of his generation: a fondness for long speeches, for pedantic digressions on such subjects as dreams and ethical problems, and for long explanations when none are necessary. Troilus and Cressida, heavy with long speeches, is an example of his prolixity, and The Knight’s Tale, of baffling complexity and overabundant in detail, reveals his haphazard and dawdling methods; yet both contain many admirable narrative passages. But when he rises above the weaknesses common to the time he is terse, direct, and vivacious. The extract given below will illustrate the briskness with which his story can move.

(f) His Metrical Skill. In the matter of poetical technique English literature owes much to Chaucer. He is not an innovator, for he employs the meters in common use. In his hands, however, they take on new powers. The octosyllabic and heroic couplets, which previously were slack and inartistic measures, now acquire a new strength, suppleness, and melody. Chaucer, who is no great lyrical poet, takes little interest in the more complicated meters common in the lyric; but in some of his shorter poems he shows a skill that is as good as the very best apparent in the contemporary poems.

(g) Summary. We may summarize Chaucer’s achievement by saying that he is the earliest of the great moderns. In comparison with the poets of his own time, and with those of the succeeding century, the advance he makes is almost startling. For example, Manning, Hampole, and the romancers are of another age and of another way of thinking from ours; but, apart from the superficial archaisms of spelling, the modern reader finds in Chaucer something closely akin. All the Chaucerian features help to create this modern atmosphere: the shrewd and placidly humorous observation, the wide humanity, the quick aptness of phrase, the dexterous touch upon the meter, and, above all, the fresh and formative spirit—the genius turning dross into gold. Chaucer is indeed a genius; he stands alone, and for nearly two hundred years none dare claim equality with him.

1. William Langland, or Langley (1332–1400), is one of the early writers with whom modern research has dealt adversely. All we know about him appears on the manuscripts of his poem, or is based upon the remarks he makes regarding himself in the course of the poem. This poem, the full title of which is The Vision of William concerning Piers the Plowman, appears in its many manuscripts in three forms, called respectively the A, B, and C texts. The A text is the shortest, being about 2500 lines long; the B is more than 7200 lines; and the C, which is clearly based upon B, is more than 7300 lines. Until quite recently it has always been assumed that the three forms were all the work of Langland; but the latest theory is that the A form is the genuine composition of Langland, whereas both B and C have been composed by a later and inferior poet.

From the personal passages in the poem it appears that the author was born in Shropshire about 1332. The vision in which he saw Piers the Plowman probably took place in 1362.

The poem itself tells of the poet’s vision on the Malvern Hills. In this trance he beholds a fair “feld ful of folk.” The first vision, by subtle and baffling changes, merges into a series of dissolving scenes which deal with the adventures of allegorical beings, human like Do-wel, Do-bet, and Do-betst, or of abstract significance like the Lady Meed, Wit, Study, and Faith. During the many incidents of the poem the virtuous powers generally suffer most, till the advent of Piers the Plowman—the Messianic deliverer—restores the balance to the right side. The underlying motive of the work is to expose the sloth and vice of the Church, and to set on record the struggles and virtues of common folks. Langland’s frequent sketches of homely life are done with sympathy and knowledge, and often suggest the best scenes of Bunyan.

The style has a somber energy, an intense but crabbed seriousness, and an austere simplicity of treatment. The form of the poem is curious. It is a revival of the Old English rhymeless measure, having alliteration as the basis of the line. The lines themselves are fairly uniform in length, and there is the middle pause, with (as a rule) two alliterations in the first half-line and one in the second. Yet in spite of the Old English meter the vocabulary draws freely upon the French, to an extent equal to that of Chaucer himself.

We quote the familiar opening lines of the poem. The reader should note the strong rhythm of the lines—which in some cases almost amounts to actual meter—the fairly regular system of alliteration, and the sober undertone of resignation.

2. John Gower, the date of whose birth is uncertain, died in 1408. He was a man of means, and a member of a good Kentish family; he took a fairly active part in the politics and literary activity of the time, and was buried in London.

The three chief works of Gower are noteworthy, for they illustrate the unstable state of contemporary English literature. His first poem, Speculum Meditantis, is written in French, and for a long time was lost, being discovered as late as 1895; the second, Vox Clamantis, is composed in Latin; and the third, Confessio Amantis, is written in English, at the King’s command according to Gower himself. In this last poem we have the conventional allegorical setting, with the disquisition of the seven deadly sins, illustrated by many anecdotes. These anecdotes reveal Gower’s capacity as a story-teller. He has a diffuse and watery style of narrative, but occasionally he is brisk and competent. The meter is the octosyllabic couplet, of great smoothness and fluency.

3. John Barbour (1316–95) is the first of the Scottish poets to claim our attention. He was born in Aberdeenshire, and studied both at Oxford and Paris. His great work is The Brus (1375), a lengthy poem of twenty books and thirteen thousand lines. The work is really a history of Scotland from the death of Alexander III (1286) till the death of Bruce and the burial of his heart (1332). The heroic theme is the rise of Bruce, and the central incident of the poem is the battle of Bannockburn. The poem, often rudely but pithily expressed, contains much absurd legend and a good deal of inaccuracy, but it is no mean beginning to the long series of Scottish heroic poems. The spirited beginning is often quoted:

1. Sir John Mandeville is the English form of the name of Jehan de Mandeville, who compiled and published a French book of travels between 1357 and 1371. This French work was very popular, and it was translated into several languages, including English. The English version has a preface, in which it is stated that the author was a Sir John Mandeville, a knight, born at St. Albans, who crossed the sea in 1322 and traveled in many strange regions. Much of the personal narrative is invention; nowadays the very existence of Sir John is denied. The real author of the book is said to be Jehan de Bourgogne, who died at Liège in 1372.

It has now been demonstrated that the so-called “Travels” is a compilation from several popular books of voyages, including those of a Friar Odoric, of an Armenian called Hetoum, and (to a very small extent) of the famous traveler Marco Polo. These, with a few grains of original matter, are ingeniously welded into one of the most charming books of its kind. The travels are full of incredible descriptions and anecdotes, which are set down with delightful faith and eagerness. The style is sweet and clear, with some colloquial touches; and the short narrations freely dispersed through the text, tersely phrased and accurately gauged in length, are rendered with great skill.

We add an example to illustrate this admirable prose style. Observe the brief sentences, many of which begin with “and,” the simple but effective diction, and the straightforward style of narrative.

2. John Wyclif, or Wycliffe (1320–84), was born in Yorkshire about the year 1320. He was educated at Oxford, took holy orders, received the living of Lutteworth in Leicestershire (1374), and took a prominent part in the ecclesiastical feuds of the day. He was strong in his denunciation of the abuses then rampant, and only the influence of his powerful friends saved him from the fate of a heretic. He died peacefully in 1384.

An active controversialist, he wrote many Latin books in support of his revolutionary opinions. In addition, he issued a large number of tracts and pamphlets in English, and carried through an English translation of the Bible. His English style is not polished, but it is vigorous and pointed, with a homely simplicity that makes its appeal both wide and powerful.

3. Sir Thomas Malory may be included at this point, though his famous work, the Morte d’Arthur, was composed as late as the “ix yere of the reygne of Kyng Edward the furth” (1469). Nearly all we know about Malory is contained in the preface of Caxton, the first printer of the book. Caxton says that the book was written by Sir Thomas Malory “oute of certeyn bookes of frensshe.”

Like the travels of Mandeville, the Morte d’Arthur is a compilation. In the case of Malory’s books, French Arthurian romances are drawn upon to create a prose romance of great length and detail. However diverse the sources are, the book is written with a uniform dignity and fervor that express the very soul and essence of romance. The prose style, never pretentious, is always equal to the demands put upon it, and frequently it has that flash of phrase that is essential to the creation of a literary style. Malory is, in short, our first individual prose stylist.

The Chaucerian age saw a great and significant advance in poetical forms of literature, and a noteworthy one in the domain of prose.

1. Poetry. With regard to poetry, we can observe the various forms separating themselves and straightening out into form and coherence.

(a) The lyric, chiefly the religious and love-lyric, continues to be written and developed. Chaucer himself contributes very little toward it, but a number of anonymous bards add to the common stock. It is seldom that we can give precise dates to the lyrics of this period; but about this time were composed such exquisite pieces as The Nut-brown Maid, a curious hybrid between the lyric and the ballad, and the lovely carols of the Church.

(b) The Rise of the Ballad. The origin of the ballad has always been a question in dispute. There is little doubt, however, that ballads began to assume a position of importance at the end of the fourteenth century.

The true ballad-form had several features to make it distinct from the romance: it is commonly plebeian in origin and theme, thus contrasting with the romance, which is aristocratic in these respects; it is short, and treats of one incident, whereas the romance form is cumulative, and can absorb any number of adventures; it is simple in style, and is as a rule composed in the familiar ballad-stanza. Some of the fine ballads belonging to this time are Chevy Chace, Gil Morrice, and Sir Patrick Spens. Very old ballads, as can be seen in the case of Chevy Chace, which exists in more than one version, have descended to modern times in a much more polished condition than they were in at first. In their earliest condition they were rude and almost illiterate productions, the compositions of the popular minstrels.

(c) The Rise of the Allegory. This is perhaps the suitable place to note the rise of allegory, which in the age of Chaucer began to affect all the branches of poetry. Even at its best the allegorical method is crude and artificial, but it is a concrete and effective literary device for expounding moral and religious lessons. It appeals with the greatest force to minds which are still unused to abstract thinking; and about the period now under discussion it exactly suited the lay and ecclesiastical mind. Hence we have a flood of poems dealing with Courts of Love, Houses of Fame, Dances of the Seven Deadly Sins, and other symbolical subjects. Especially in the earlier stages of his career, Chaucer himself did not escape the prevailing habit. We shall see that the craze for the allegory was to increase during the next century and later, till it reached its climax in The Faerie Queene.

(d) Descriptive and Narrative Poems. In this form of poetry The Canterbury Tales is the outstanding example, but in many passages of Langland and Gower we have specimens of the same class. We have already mentioned some of the weaknesses that are common to the narrative poetry of the day, and which were due partly to lack of practice and partly to reliance upon inferior models: the tantalizing rigmaroles of long speeches and irrelevant episodes, the habit of dragging into the story scientific and religious discussions, and an imperfect sense of proportion in the arrangement of the plot. In the best examples, such as those of Chaucer, there is powerful grip upon the central interest, a shrewd observation and humor, and quite often a brilliant rapidity of narration.

(e) The metrical romance is still a popular form, but the great vogue of the last century is on the wane. Among the lower classes it is being supplanted by the ballad; and the growing favor that is being shown to the fabliau—that is, the short French tale, realistic in subject and humorous-satirical in style—is leading to tales of the coarser Chaucer type.

2. Prose. In prose we have the first English travel-book in Mandeville’s Travels; one of the earliest translations of the Bible in Wyclif’s; and, among others, a prose chronicle in the work of John of Trevisa (1326–1412), who issued a prose version of Higden’s Polychronicon. As yet such works are in an undeveloped state, but already some considerable growth is apparent. Prose is increasing both in quantity and in quality, and the rate of increase is accelerating.

1. Poetry. We have already stated that the time of transition and experiment is nearly over. English poetical style has established itself, and the main lines of development have been laid down. For this we are indebted almost entirely to Chaucer.

(a) With regard to meter, it is curious to observe that with increasing practice the tendency is toward simplicity. The extremely complicated stanzas are becoming less common, and rhyme royal and other shorter verses are coming into favor. Along with simplification is a greater suppleness and dexterity. There is less rigidity in the position of the pause, and a greater freedom in the substitution of three-syllabled feet for two-syllabled feet. These features are most strongly developed in the couplet forms. It is this union of simplicity and freedom that is to remain the dominating characteristic of English verse, thus contrasting with the quantitative system of the classical measures and the syllabic nature of the French.

(b) There is an interesting revival in alliteration. In the true alliterative poem the basis of the line is a system of repeating sounds, such as was the custom in Old English verse. One of the earliest examples of this type which occurs after the Norman Conquest is Wynnere and Wastour (1352), an anonymous poem of no great merit. The tradition is continued in the alliterative romances of the type of Cleannesse; and it attains its climax in Piers Plowman. Though this last poem gained a great popularity it left no important literary descendants. Hence the revival of the ancient system of alliteration remains as an interesting curiosity. In a very short time after Langland, alliteration becomes simply an ornament to meter—sometimes a device of great beauty, but not vital to the metrical scheme.

As regards the actual poetic diction of the period, there is a considerable liking shown for ornate French and classical terms. This can be observed in the earlier poems of Chaucer and in the Confessio Amantis of Gower. We have not yet attained to the aureate diction of the succeeding generation, but the temptation to use French terms was too strong to be resisted. Langland, though he draws upon the French Element, writes with much greater simplicity; and the ballads also are composed in a manner quite plain and unadorned.

2. Prose. The state of prose is still too immature to allow of any style beyond the plainest. Wyclif’s, the earliest of the period, is unpolished, though it can be pointed and vigorous. Mandeville’s prose style, though it is devoid of artifices, attains to a certain distinction by reason of its straightforward methods, its short and workmanlike sentences, and a brevity rare in his day. In the case of Malory, who comes some time after the others, we have quite an individual style. It is still unadorned; but it has a distinction of phrase and a decided romantic flavor that make Malory a prose stylist of a high class. His prose is, indeed, a distinct advance upon that of his predecessors.

1. The following series of extracts is intended to show the development of English prose style from Old English times to those of Malory. The student should write a brief commentary upon the development of the prose, paying attention to vocabulary, sentence-construction, clearness, and brevity.

2. Comment upon the style of each of the following extracts. Note the use of French words, the type of sentences, the clearness of construction, and the handling of the meter. Compare (1) with the extract given from Chaucer on page 39. Which is the better narrative, and which shows the more humor?

3. The two extracts given below represent the older and the more modern versions of Chevy Chace. Compare them with regard to diction, vivacity, and general competence in the handling of meter.

4. “In the union of the two [art and strength] Chaucer stood alone.” (Saintsbury.) Compare Chaucer with Langland and Gower, and show how he combines the strength of the former with the art of the latter.

5. The following quotations on Chaucer can each be taken as the theme of a short discussion, and all of them can be used as the foundation of a longer paper.

6. Point out some of the traces that the social and religious unrest has left upon the literature of the time.

7. “There exists a general impression that our prose dates from the sixteenth century.” (Earle.) Is this impression a correct one?

CHAPTER IV FROM CHAUCER TO SPENSER — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1450–1550) — LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE — POETRY — PROSE-WRITERS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE ENGLISH BIBLE — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

The dates that appear at the head of this section are only approximate, but the general features of the time are well defined. In England the period begins with wars, unrest, and almost chaos; it concludes with a settled dynasty, a reformed religion, and a people united and progressive. Abroad, as well as in England, there is apparent the broad intellectual flood known as the Renaissance, running deep and strong: the renewed desire for knowledge, changes in religious ideals, the discovery of new worlds, both geographical and literary, and the enormous quickening of heart and mind. In England the scene is being prepared for the great age to follow.

1. Poverty of Material. Considering the length of the period, the poverty of the output is hard to explain. There is no English poet of any consequence; the prose writing is thin in quality and quantity; and if it were not for the activities of the Scottish poets the age would be poor indeed.

2. Scottish Poetry. Scottish poetry comes late into notice, but it comes with a bound. The poverty and disunion of Scotland, its severance from the intellectual stimulus of English thought, and the dearth of educational facilities all combine to retard its literary development. But these disadvantages are rapidly passing away, with the beneficial results apparent in this chapter.

3. The Development of the Drama. The popularity of the romance is almost gone; the drama, more suited to the growing intelligence of the time, is rapidly taking on a new importance. The professional actor and the playwright, owing to real demand for their services, are making their appearance. The development of the drama is sketched in this chapter.

4. The Importance of the Period. The importance of the time is belied by its apparent barrenness. In reality it is a season of healthy fallow, of germination, of rest and recuperation. The literary impulse, slowly awakening, is waiting for the right moment. When that movement comes the long period of rest gives the new movement swift and enduring force.

1. The Scottish Poets. (a) James I (1394–1437) was captured by the English in 1405, and remained in England till 1424, when he married Joan Beaufort, the cousin of Henry V, and returned to Scotland. The chief poem associated with his name is The Kingis Quhair (quire or book). The attempts to disprove his authorship have not been successful. It seems to have been written during his captivity, and it records his first sight of the lady destined to be his wife. It follows the Chaucerian model of the dream, the garden, and the introduction of allegorical figures. The stanza is the rhyme royal, which is said to have derived its name from his use of it. The diction, which is the common artificial blend of Scottish and Chaucerian forms, is highly ornamented; but there are some passages of really brilliant description, and a few stanzas of passionate declamation quite equal to the best of Chaucer’s Troilus and Cressida. It is certainly among the best of the poems that appear between the periods of Chaucer and Spenser. Other poems, in particular the more plebeian Peblis to the Play and Christis Kirk on the Green, have been ascribed to James, but his authorship is extremely doubtful.

The two following stanzas are fair examples of James’s poetry. The man who wrote them was no mean poet.

(b) Sir David Lyndsay (1490–1555) was born in Fifeshire about the year 1490. He entered the royal service, and rose to fill the important position of Lyon King-of-Arms.

His longer works, which were written during his service at Court, include The Dreme, in rhyme royal stanzas, with the usual allegorical setting; The Testament of Squyer Meldrum, in octosyllabic couplets, a romantic biography with a strongly Chaucerian flavor; The Testament and Compleynt of the Papyngo, which has some gleams of his characteristic humor; and Ane Pleasant Satyre of the Thrie Estatis, a morality-play, coarse and vulgar, but containing much of his best work. It is full of telling satire directed against the Church, and it shows acute observation of the frailties of his fellows. Lyndsay represents the ruder type of the Scottish Chaucerian. He has a coarseness beyond the standard even of his day; but he cannot be denied a bluff good-humor, a sound honesty of opinion, and an abundant and vital energy.

(c) Robert Henryson (1425–1500) has left us few details regarding his life. In one of his books he is described as a “scholemaister of Dunfermeling”; he may have studied at Glasgow University; and he was dead when Dunbar (see below) wrote his Lament for the Makaris in 1506. Hence the dates given for his birth and death are only approximations.

The order of his poems has not been determined. His longest is a version of the Morall Fabillis of Esope, composed in rhyme royal stanzas and showing much dexterity and vivacity; The Testament of Cresseid is a continuation of Chaucer’s Troilus and Cressida, and it has a finely tragic conclusion; Orpheus and Eurydice, an adaptation from Boëthius, has, along with much commonplace moralizing, some passages of real pathos; and among his thirteen shorter poems Robene and Makyne, a little pastoral incident, is executed with a lightness, a brevity, and a precision that make it quite a gem among its fellows. His Garment of Gude Ladies, though often quoted, is pedantically allegorical, and of no high quality as poetry.

We quote two stanzas from The Testament of Cresseid. The diction is an artificial blend of that of Chaucer and of colloquial Scots, and it is heavily loaded with descriptive epithet; but it is picturesque and dramatic, in some respects suggesting the later work of Spenser.

(d) William Dunbar (1460–1520) is generally considered to be the chief of the Scottish Chaucerian poets. He was born in East Lothian, studied at St. Andrews University (1477), and went to France and became a wandering friar. Returning to Scotland, he became attached to the household of James IV, and in course of time was appointed official Rhymer. He died about 1520.

Dunbar wrote freely, often on subjects of passing interest; and though his work runs mainly on Chaucerian lines it has an energy and pictorial quality that are quite individual. Of the more than ninety poems associated with his name the most important are The Golden Targe, of the common allegorical-rhetorical type; The Thrissill and the Rois, celebrating the marriage of James IV and the English Margaret (1503); The Dance of the Sevin Deidlie Sins, with its strong macabre effects and its masterly grip of meter; The Twa Meryit Wemen and the Wedo, a revival of the ancient alliterative measure, and outrageously frank in expression; and The Lament for the Makaris, in short stanzas with the refrain Timor Mortis conturbat me, quite striking in its effect.

The following short extract reveals Dunbar’s strong pictorial quality and his command of meter.

(e) Gawain Douglas (1474–1522) was a member of the famous Douglas family, his father being the fifth Earl of Angus, Archibald “Bell the Cat.” He studied at St. Andrews University (1489) and probably at Paris, became a priest, and rose to be Bishop of Dunkeld. He took a great share in the high politics of those dangerous times, and in the end lost his bishopric, was expelled to England, and died in London.

His four works belong to the period 1501–13: The Palice of Honour, of elaborate and careful workmanship, and typical of the fifteenth-century manner; King Hart, a laboriously allegorical treatment of life, the Hart being the heart of life, which is attended by the five senses and other personifications of abstractions; Conscience, a short poem, a mere quibble on the word “conscience,” of no great poetical merit; and the Æneid, his most considerable effort, a careful translation of Virgil, with some incongruous touches, but done with competence and some poetical ability. It is the earliest of its kind, and so is worthy of some consideration. Douglas is the most scholarly and painstaking of his group; but he lacks the native vigor of his fellows. His style is often overloaded and listless, and in the selection of theme he shows little originality.

2. John Skelton (1460–1529) comes late in this period, but he is perhaps the most considerable of the poets. His place of birth is disputed; he may have studied at Oxford, and he probably graduated at Cambridge. He took orders (1498), entered the household of the Countess of Richmond, the mother of Henry VII, and became a tutor to Prince Henry. In 1500 he obtained the living of Diss in Norfolk, but his sharp tongue ruined him as a rector. He fell foul of Wolsey, and is said to have escaped imprisonment by seeking sanctuary in Westminster Abbey, where he died in 1529.

In his Garlande of Laurell Skelton gives a list of his own works, most of which have perished. This poem itself is a dreary effort, stilted in style and diffuse in treatment. It is in satire that Skelton appears at his best. His satirical poems, in spite of their shuffling and scrambling meters, are usually sharp, often witty, and nearly always alive. Why come ye not to Court? is addressed to Wolsey, and for jeering impertinence it is hard to find its equal, at that time at least; The Tunnynge of Elynore Runnynge is realism indeed, for it faithfully portrays the drunken orgies of a pack of women in an ale-house. His more serious poems include a Dirge on Edward IV, The Bowge of Court, and a quite excellent morality-play, Magnificence.

We quote an example of Skelton’s peculiar meter, which came to be called “Skeltonics.” It is a species of jingling octosyllabic couplet, but crumbling and unstable, often descending to doggerel. It is, however, lively, witty in a shallow fashion, and attractive. His own description of it is quite just:

The following extract shows his powers of invective:

3. John Lydgate (1370–1451) had a great reputation in his day, but little of it has survived. He was born at Lydgate, near Newmarket, and became a monk at Bury St. Edmunds, where he rose to be priest in 1397. He studied and wrote much, gaining a wide reputation both as a scholar and a poet. The dates of his birth and death are only approximately fixed.

Lydgate was a friend of Chaucer, upon whom he models much of his poetry. But as a poet he is no Chaucer. He has none of the latter’s metrical skill and lively imagination, and the enormous mass of his poems only enhances their futility. The Falls of Princes, full of platitudes and wordy digressions, is no less than 7,000 verses long; The Temple of Glass, of the common allegorical type, is mercifully shorter; and so is The Story of Thebes, a feeble continuation of Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale. On rare occasions, as in London Lickpenny, he is livelier; but he has no ear for meter, and the common vices of his time—prolixity, lack of humor, and pedantic allegory—lie heavy upon him.

4. Thomas Occleve, or Hoccleve (1368–1450), may have been born in Bedfordshire; but we know next to nothing about him, and that he tells us himself. He was a clerk in the Privy Seal Office, from which in 1424 he retired on a pension to Hampshire.

His principal works are The Regement of Princes, written for the edification of Henry VIII, and consisting of a string of tedious sermons; La Male Règle, partly autobiographical, in a sniveling fashion; The Complaint of Our Lady; and Occleve’s Complaint.

The style of Occleve’s poetry shows the rapid degeneration that set in immediately after the death of Chaucer. His meter, usually rhyme royal or couplets, is loose and sprawling, the style is uninspired, and the interest of the reader soon ebbs very low. He himself, in his characteristic whining way, admits it with much truth:

5. Stephen Hawes (1474–1530) was a Court poet during the first twenty years of the sixteenth century. Very little is known of him, even the dates of his birth and death being largely matters of surmise.

His chief works include The Passetyme of Pleasure, a kind of romantic-homiletic poem, composed both in rhyme royal stanzas and in couplets, and dealing with man’s life in this world in a fashion reminiscent of Bunyan’s, The Example of Virtue, The Conversion of Swerers, and A Joyfull Medytacyon. Of all the poets now under discussion Hawes is the most uninspired; his allegorical methods are of the crudest; but he is not entirely without his poetical moments. His Passetyme of Pleasure probably influenced the allegory of Spenser.

6. Alexander Barclay (1476–1552) might have been either a Scotsman or an Englishman for all that is known on the subject. He was a priest in Devonshire, and later withdrew to a monastery in Ely. His important poem, The Ship of Fools, a translation of a German work by Sebastian Brant, represents a newer type of allegory. The figures in the poem are not the usual wooden creatures representing the common vices and virtues, but they are sharply satirical portraits of the various kinds of foolish men. Sometimes Barclay adds personal touches to make the general satire more telling. Certayne Ecloges, another of Barclay’s works, is the earliest English collection of pastorals. It contains, among much grumbling over the times, quite attractive pictures of the country life of the day.

1. Reginald Pecock (1395–1460) may have been born in Wales, and perhaps in 1395. He was educated at Oxford, and took orders, when he became prominent through his attacks upon the Lollards. In his arguments he went so far that he was convicted of heresy (1457), forced to make a public recantation, and deprived of his bishopric of Chichester. He died in obscurity about 1460.

His two works were The Repressor of Over-much Blaming the Clergy (1449) and The Book of Faith. In his dogma he strongly supported the ancient usages of the Church; and in the style of his argument he is downright and opinionative. His prose, often rugged and obscure, is marked by his preference for English words in place of those of Latin origin. His books are among the earliest of English controversial works, and thus they mark a victory over the once all-important Latin.

2. William Caxton (1422–91), the first English printer, was born in Kent about the year 1422. He was apprenticed to a London mercer, and in his capacity of mercer went to Bruges to assist in the revival of English trade with the Continent. In Bruges, where he lived for thirty-three years, he started his translations from the French, and in that city he may have learned the infant art of printing. In 1476 he established himself in London as a printer. There he began to issue a series of books that laid the foundation of English printing. The first book printed in England was The Dictes and Sayengis of the Philosophers (1477). The main part of the volume was the work of Lord Rivers, but Caxton, as was his habit, revised it for the press.

In addition to printing many older texts, such as Chaucer and Malory, Caxton did some original work of great value. He translated and printed no fewer than twenty-one books, French texts, the most remarkable of which were the two earliest, The Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye (1469) and The Game and Playe of Chesse (1474). Like King Alfred, he added to many of his books introductory remarks, some of great personal or general interest.

We give a brief extract from his preface to The Recuyell. Observe the rather clumsy sentences and the plain language.

3. John Fisher (1459–1535) was born in Yorkshire about 1459, was educated at Cambridge, and entered the Church. In due course he became Bishop of Rochester. During the time of the Reformation he opposed Henry VIII’s desire to be acknowledged as the head of the English Church, and was imprisoned in the Tower (1531). While there he was made a cardinal by the Pope; and he was beheaded by the orders of Henry.

Fisher wrote much in Latin, and in English he is represented by a small collection of tracts and sermons and a longer treatise on the Psalms. Though they are of no great quantity, his prose works are in their nature of much importance. They are the first of the rhetorical-religious books that for several centuries were to be an outstanding feature of English prose. In addition, they show a decided advance in the direction of style. They are written in the style of the orator and are the result of the conscious effort of the stylist: the searching after the appropriate word (often apparent by the use of two or three words of like meaning), the frequent use of rhetorical figures of speech, and a rapid and flowing rhythm. In brief, in the style of Fisher we can observe the beginnings of an ornate style. It is still in the making, but it is the direct ancestor of the prose style of Jeremy Taylor and other divines of the same class.

In the following passage observe the use of such doublets as “painful and laborious,” “rest and ease,” and “desire and love.” The rhythm is supple, there is a quick procession of phrases, and the vocabulary is copious and Latinized to a considerable extent.

4. Hugh Latimer (1491–1555) was born in Leicestershire, educated at Cambridge, and rose to be chaplain to Henry VIII and Bishop of Worcester. He resisted some of the reforms of Henry, was imprisoned in the Tower, and was released on the death of the King. At the accession of Mary he was once again thrown into jail, and was burned at Oxford.

Latimer’s English prose works consist of two volumes of sermons published in 1549. They are remarkable for their plain and dogmatic exposition, their graphical power, and their homely appeal. He is the first of the writers of plain style.

5. Sir Thomas More (1478–1535) was born in London, and was the son of a judge. He was educated in London, attached to the household of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and became a lawyer. A man of eager and aspiring mind, he fell under the influence of Erasmus, Colet, and other humanists of the period. For a time he sat in Parliament and saw State service. His advanced political views led to his imprisonment (1534), and he was beheaded in the following year.

Owing to their elegance and wit, his Latin works are of unusual importance. They include his Utopia, the description of his imaginary ideal state. This book was not translated into English until 1551, and so does not count as an English work of More’s. His English prose works include The Lyfe of John Picus, The Historie of Richard III, and a number of tracts and letters. He writes ably and clearly, but with no great distinction of manner. He is the first writer of the middle style.

1. Poetry. In this period we have to chronicle the appearance of the eclogue or pastoral in the work of Barclay (Ecloges) and in some shorter poems like Henryson’s Robene and Makyne. The pastoral, which in classical times had been practiced by Virgil and Theocritus, became a common form of poetical exercise in Italy, France, and Spain before, in the sixteenth century, it appeared in England. It was marked by a set of conventional shepherds and shepherdesses, possessing such names as Colin, Phyllis, and Phœbe; by stock scenes introducing sheep, meadows, and flowers; and it was often made the medium for philosophical and political theories. As yet the golden age of the pastoral had not made its appearance in England, but the beginning of the vogue was apparent.

A glance at the poems mentioned in this chapter will reveal the importance of the allegory. In this period it grew and hardened into a mechanical and soulless device, for the poets lacked sufficient poetical fire to give it life. The allegory, as we can see in Dunbar’s Golden Targe and Lydgate’s Temple of Glass, usually opened with a garden and a dream, conventionalized to an absurd degree, and it continued with the introduction of the Goddess of Love, the Virtues and Vices, and similar stock personations. The allegory, however, in spite of its enormous elaboration, was not at the end of its popularity, and, as we shall see in the next chapter, it was to add another great poet to its list of devotees.

The development of the ballad and carol continued, with highly satisfactory results. These poems began to acquire polish and expertness, for the early rudeness was becoming a thing of the past. To this period probably belong the lovely carol to the Virgin Mary beginning “I sing of a maiden,” and the ballads connected with Robin Hood, Fair Rosamund, and many others.

2. Prose. There were no outstanding achievements in prose, but facts all helped to reveal the waning influence of Latin and the increasing importance given to English. English prose appeared in theological works, as in those of Fisher; and Cranmer (1489–1556) gave it a new field in his notable English Prayer Book. Historical prose was represented by The Chronicle of England of Capgrave (1393–1464), who wrote in a businesslike fashion; a species of philosophical prose appeared in The Governance of England of Fortescue (1394–1476), and in The Boke named the Governour of Eylot (1490–1546), a kind of educational work; The Castle of Health, also by the last author, was a medical work. The great race of Elizabethan translators is well begun by Lord Berners (1467–1533), who translated Froissart with freedom and no mean skill; and, lastly, the English Bible was taking shape.

The work on the English Bible began as early as the eighth century, when Bede translated a portion of the Gospel of St. John into Old English prose. The work was ardently continued during the Old English period—for example, in the Lindisfarne Gospels (about 700) and the prose of Ælfric (about 1000). During the Anglo-Norman period, owing to the influence of French and Latin, English translation did not flourish; but efforts were made, especially in the Psalms and the Pauline epistles. Translation was systematically undertaken by Wyclif (1320–84), under whose direction two complete versions were carried through about 1384 and 1388. How much actual translation Wyclif accomplished will never be known, but his was the leading spirit, and to him falls the glory of being the leader in the great work. To the second of the Wycliffian versions is sometimes given the name of John Purvey, the Lollard leader who succeeded Wyclif. The two versions are simple and unpretentious renderings, the second being much more finished than the first.

After Wyclif translation flagged till the Reformation bent men’s minds anew to the task. The greatest of all the translators was William Tyndale (1485–1536), who did much to give the Bible its modern shape. Tyndale suffered a good deal of persecution owing to his hardihood, and was driven abroad, where much of his translation was accomplished, and where it was first printed. It was at Cologne that the first English Bible appeared in print. A feature of Tyndale’s translation was its direct reliance upon the Hebrew and Greek originals, and not upon the Latin renderings of them. Of these Latin texts the stock version was the Vulgate, upon which Wyclif to a large extent relied.

Miles Coverdale (1488–1568) carried on the work of Tyndale. Though he lacked the latter’s scholarship, he had an exquisite taste for phrase and rhythm, and many of the most beautiful Biblical expressions are of his workmanship.

Translations now came apace. None of them, however, was much improvement upon Tyndale’s. In 1537 appeared the finely printed version of “Thomas Matthew,” who was said to be John Rogers, a friend of Coverdale. The Great Bible, the first of the authorized versions, was executed by a commission of translators, working under the command of Henry VIII. It was based on Matthew’s Bible. Another notable translation was the Calvinistic Geneva Bible (1560). This book received the popular name of “Breeches Bible,” owing to its rendering of Genesis iii, 7: “They sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves breeches.” In the reign of Elizabeth was issued the Bishops’ Bible (1568), a magnificent folio, which was translated by a committee of bishops and learned men. It was intended to be a counterblast to the growing popularity of the Breeches Bible.

With these we are close upon the great Authorized Version (1611), which we shall mention in the next chapter, where also we shall briefly discuss the influence and the literary qualities of this translation. A few representative passages from the early translations will be found in the exercises attached to this chapter.

3. The Drama. As we have arrived on the threshold of the great Elizabethan drama, it is here convenient to sketch the growth of the dramatic form of literature.

(a) The Origins. (1) Classical. By the fourth or fifth century the Latin drama had become degraded almost past recognition. It left the merest traces in the mimes, who were professional strolling players common to all Europe during the Dark Ages. Their performances seem to have been poor and ribald enough, and they left little trace upon English drama.

(2) Popular Elements. At the great festivities, such as those at Easter and Yule, there were popular shows that included a large amount of acting and speaking. These plays, rude and childish probably, were survivals of ancient pagan beliefs and contained many scraps of folk-lore. There were nature-myths, such as that representing the expulsion of winter, in which a figure representing summer was slain and then revived. In England these mummings, as they were called, developed into elaborate sword-play, into morris-dancing (partly of foreign origin), and into dramatic versions of the feats of Robin Hood and St. George. These plays, which were commonly acted at the feast of Corpus Christi, were the occasion of fun and license, particularly at the election of the “Abbot of Unreason,” with his attendants, the hobby-horse and the clown.

(3) Ecclesiastical Elements. In early times the Church was the chief supporter of the popular drama. The Church service, including the Mass itself, contains dramatic elements. In the course of time, in order to make the Church services more intelligible and attractive, there grew up a habit of exhibiting “living pictures” illustrating Gospel stories, especially those connected with Easter. As early as the fifth century we have mention of such primitive dramatic entertainments, which were accompanied by the singing of hymns. Such was the origin of the mystery.

(b) The Mystery-play. The mystery was the dramatic representation of some important Biblical theme, such as the Nativity or the Resurrection. There were stock characters, set speeches (usually in doggerel verse), and a rudimentary plot supplied by the Biblical narrative. The mystery was in existence as early as the tenth century. Priests took part in the plays, though it is not certain that they wrote them; and the performances took place in the vicinity of some church. This feature proved so attractive that the mystery developed quite elaborate forms. The mystery-play proper centered around the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, but other themes that grew into favor were those of the Fall, Noah, Daniel, and Lazarus.

We add a brief passage from an ancient Cornish mystery. The reader should observe the set speeches of uniform length, the simple style, and the rhymeless stanzas.

(c) The Miracle-play. From the well-developed mystery-play it was but a step to the miracle-play. In such plays the theme passed from the Scriptural story to that of the lives of the saints. The plots were much more varied, the characters nearer to human experience, and the style rather more urbane.

(d) The Morality-play registered a further advance. In such plays virtues and vices were presented on the stage as allegorical creations, often of much liveliness. Abstractions such as Justice, Mercy, Gluttony, and Vice were among the commonest characters. An important feature of this class of play is the development of characterization. It is almost crude; but it is often strongly marked and strongly contrasted, with broad farcical elements. The favorite comic character was Vice, whose chief duty was to tease the Devil.

Everyman (about 1490), perhaps the best of the morality-plays, is represented by the brief extract here given. The characters are simply but effectively drawn, and the play does not lack a noble pathos.

(e) The Play-cycles. As the plays developed, so did the demands upon the stagecraft of the performers. At first the priests were equal to it. Quite elaborate erections were used. In the very early productions a popular setting was an erection in three stories. The top represented heaven, with the heavenly inhabitants, the “middel erde” was in the center, and lowest of all were the flames of hell, tenanted by cheerfully disposed devils. In the course of time the acting passed from the priests into the hands of the craftsmen, the students, and the schoolboys. The merchants’ guilds, in particular, were the most consistent supporters of the drama.

A curious feature was the fashion in which the plays ran in cycles or groups, each of which became associated with some town. The earliest is the Chester play-cycle (1268–76), comprising twenty-four plays; others are the York, with forty-nine; the Townley, with thirty-two, acted at the fairs at Widkirk; and the Coventry, of which only one play survives. Each member of the play-series was connected in theme with the others, and the complete cycle illustrated Bible history in all its stages.

Each company of the guild, say the Barbers or the Wax-chandlers, took a unit of the series. Each unit was short, corresponding to an act of the modern drama. They were composed in a great variety of meters, from doggerel to complicated lyrical stanzas.

Each company having selected and rehearsed its play, the entire apparatus was enclosed in a huge vehicle called the pageant. The body of the vehicle was enclosed, and served as the dressing-and property-room; the top was an open-air stage. On the day of the festival, which at York and Coventry was Corpus Christi, the whole contrivance was pulled about the town, and performances were given at certain fixed points, of which the abbey was the chief. In A Midsummer Night’s Dream Shakespeare has caricatured many features of these artisans’ dramatic performances.

(f) The Interlude. The last predecessor of the drama proper was the interlude, which flourished about the middle of the sixteenth century. It had several distinguishing points: it was a short play that introduced real characters, usually of humble rank, such as citizens and friars; there was an absence of allegorical figures; there was much broad farcical humor, often coarse; and there were set scenes, a new feature in the English drama. It will be observed that the interlude was a great advance upon the morality-play. John Heywood, who lived in the latter half of the sixteenth century, was the most gifted writer of the interlude. The four P’s is one of his best. It is composed in doggerel verse, and describes a lying-match between a Pedlar, a Palmer, a Pardoner, and a Potycary. His Johan Johan has much sharp wit and many clever sayings.

(g) The Earliest Dramas. Our earliest dramas began to appear about 1550. Their immediate cause was the renewed study of the classical drama, especially the plays of Seneca (3 B.C.-A.D. 65), whose mannerisms were easily imitated by dramatic apprentices. The classical drama gave English drama its five acts, its set scenes, and many other features.

(1) Tragedies. The first tragedies had the Senecan stiffness of style, the conventional characters and plot, though in some cases they adopted the “dumb show,” an English feature. Gorboduc (1562), afterward called Ferrex and Porrex, written by Norton and Lord Buckhurst, was probably the earliest, and was acted at the Christmas revels of the Inner Temple. The meter was a wooden type of regular blank verse. Other plays of a similar character were Appius and Virginia (1563), of anonymous authorship; the Historie of Horestes (1567), also anonymous; Jocasta (1566); and Preston’s Cambises, King of Percia (1570). Hughes’s Misfortunes of King Arthur (1587) broke away from the classical theme, but, like the others, it was a servile imitation of classical models. Many of the plays, however, preserved a peculiarly English feature in the retention of the comic Vice.

(2) Histories. Along with the alien classical tragedy arose a healthier native breed of historical plays. These plays, the predecessors of the historical plays of Shakespeare, were dramatized forms of the early chronicles, and combined both tragic and comic elements. This union of tragedy and comedy was alien to the classical drama, and was the chief glory of the Elizabethan stage. Early historical plays were The Famous Victories of Henry the Fifth (before 1588), a mixture of rude verse and prose; The Troublesome Raigne of King John (before 1591); and The Chronicle History of King Leir (1594).

(3) Comedies. Though the comedies drew much upon Latin comedians, such as Plautus, and upon Italian models also, they were to a great extent the growth of the English mumming element. They were composed usually in mixed verse and prose, the humor was of a primitive character, but the best of them had verve and high good-humor, and they were distinguished by some worthy songs and ditties. Ralph Roister Doister (1551), by Nicholas Udall, is the earliest extant comedy. Its author was the headmaster of Eton, and the play seems to have been composed as a variant upon the Latin dramas that were the stock-in-trade of the schoolboy actors then common. Another comedy was Gammer Gurton’s Needle (1575), the authorship of which is in dispute. The plot is slight, but the humor, though the reverse of delicate, is abundant, and the play gives interesting glimpses of contemporary English life.

We add a small scene from an early comedy. It shows the doggerel verse and the uninspired style—the homely natural speech of the time.

Christian Custance   Margerie Mumblecrust

Summary. We can thus see the material that lay to the hand of Shakespeare and his fellows. It was almost of uniform development and of ancient and diverse origin; it was frequently coarse and childish, but its material was abundant and vital. The time was at hand, and so was the genius of the master to give this vast body a shape and impulse. Almost in a day, after centuries of slow ripening, the harvest came, with a wealth and excellence of fruition that is one of the marvels of our literature.

1. Poetry. In English poetry there was a marked decadence in style. In the works of Lydgate, Skelton, and Hawes the meters often became mere doggerel; there was little trace of real poetical imagination and phrasing; and the actual vocabulary is not striking. Compared with that of Chaucer, their work seems childish and inept. Many reasons have been advanced to explain this rapid collapse. The most obvious one is the sheer lack of talent: there is nobody to carry on the Chaucerian tradition with any great credit. Another cause is probably the rapid decay of the use of the final e, which in the meter of Chaucer was an item of much moment. Pronunciation of English was rapidly changing, and the new race of poets had not the requisite skill to modify the old meter to suit the new age. In Scottish poetry there is much activity. To a large extent the Scottish poets were content to imitate the mannerisms of Chaucer. In one respect, indeed, they carried his descriptive-allegorical method too far, and made their poems lifeless. Such were the less successful poems of Dunbar (The Golden Targe), and of Gawain Douglas (The Palice of Honour). On the other hand, peculiar Scottish features were not lacking: a breezy and sometimes vulgar humor, bred, perhaps, of the ruder folk and the bleaker air; a robust independence and common sense; a note of passion and pathos; and a sense of the picturesque both in nature and in man. We find such features illustrated, wholly or in part, in such poems as Lyndsay’s Satyre of the Thrie Estatis, in Dunbar’s Lament for the Makaris, and at the close of Henryson’s Testament of Cresseid.

2. Prose. The development of prose style was marked by a number of small improvements which in the aggregate represented no small advance. Unlike the poetry of the time, prose suffered from no retrogression. There was a perceptible increase in skill, due to increased practice; there was a growing perception of the beauties of rhythm and cadence; and, in the purely formal sense, there was the appearance of the prose paragraph. Above all, the chief prose styles—the ornate, the middle, and the plain—are appearing faintly but perceptibly. With their arrival the rapid development of English prose is assured.

1. The following prose passages are early examples of ornate, middle, and simple styles. Analyze them carefully with respect to their sentence-construction, vocabulary, and rhythm, and show how each deserves its name.

2. Point out in what respects the style and sentiment of each of the following extracts represent its age and nationality. Write a critique on the passages taken together: point out their common features.

3. The following series of translations of Matthew iii, 1–4, illustrates the development of Biblical style. Write a short comment upon them, comparing them and pointing out the development.

4. In the following series of extracts from the early plays comment upon the general standard of style, and point out any development that is apparent. Pay particular attention to the meter.

(1) (From the Chester play-cycle, dating probably from the fourteenth century.)

(2) (From a sixteenth-century interlude.)

(3) (A historical play.)

(4) (From the earliest comedy.)

5. Trace the influence of the Church upon the early English drama, and account for the decay of the Church influence.

6. Point out some of the effects of the Reformation that are apparent in the literature of the day.

7. In what respects is the period 1450–1550 a period of literary decadence, and in what respects does it show an advance?

8. Account for the sudden appearance of Scottish literature, and for its rapid rise to such a high standard.

9. In what respects was the Scottish literature of the time imitative, and in what respects was it original?

10. “As the Romance decays, the Drama develops.” Is this quite true? If so, can you account for the fact?

11. “The most original and powerful poetry of the fifteenth century was composed in popular form for the ear of the common people.” Discuss this statement with reference to the ballads, the carols, the songs, and the dramas of the time, as they compare with the other poetry of the day.

12. “It is doubtful if anyone in the fifteenth century thought of prose as a medium of artistic expression.” Comment upon this statement.

CHAPTER V THE AGE OF ELIZABETH — TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1550–1630) — LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE — EDMUND SPENSER (1552–99) — OTHER POETS — PRE-SHAKESPEARIAN DRAMA: THE UNIVERSITY WITS — WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (1564–1616) — POST-SHAKESPEARIAN DRAMA — THE ENGLISH BIBLE: THE AUTHORIZED VERSION — FRANCIS BACON, BARON VERULAM, VISCOUNT ST. ALBANS (1561–1626) — OTHER PROSE-WRITERS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

The thick line indicates the period of active literary production.

This chapter introduces the reign of Elizabeth, sees it reach its climax and conclusion, and then witnesses the literary decline under the first of the Stuarts. The dominating features of the period can be conveniently summarized under two heads.

1. Settlement. Both in politics and religion the English nation was attaining to a state of stability. Dynastic problems, though they were troublesome, were not sufficient to cause serious trouble; and the union of the Crowns finally set at rest the ancient quarrel between Scotland and England. In religion the same general features were apparent—a general subsidence into quiescence, with minor disturbances at regular intervals. The settlement was all for the good of literature.

2. Expansion. In our history this is perhaps the most remarkable epoch for the expansion of both mental and geographical horizons. New knowledge was pouring in from the East, and new worlds were opening in the West. The great voyagers, whose exploits were chronicled in the immortal pages of Hakluyt (1553–1616), brought home both material and intellectual treasures from beyond the “still-vexed Bermoothes,” as Shakespeare called them. It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the important effects which these revolutionary discoveries produced in literature.

1. The New Classicism. By the time of Elizabeth the Renaissance, as it was called, had made itself strongly felt in England. In particular, there was an ardent revival in the study of Greek, which brought a dazzling light into many dark places of the intellect. The new passion for classical learning, in itself a rich and worthy enthusiasm, became quite a danger to the language. In all branches of literature Greek and Latin usages began to force themselves upon English, with results not wholly beneficial. It said much for the native sturdiness of English that, after a brief and vexed period of transition, it threw off the worst effects of this deadening pressure. English did not emerge unscathed from the contest. But, applied to this slight extent, the new classical influences were a great benefit: they tempered and polished the earlier rudeness of English literature.

2. Abundance of Output. After the lean years of the preceding epoch the prodigal issue of the Elizabethan age is almost embarrassing. As we have pointed out, the historical situation encouraged a healthy production. The interest shown in literary subjects is quite amazing to a more chastened generation. Pamphlets and treatises were freely written; much abuse, often of a personal and scurrilous character, was indulged in; and literary questions became almost of national importance. To a great extent the controversies of the day were puerile enough, but at least they indicated a lively interest in the literature of the period.

3. The New Romanticism. The romantic quest is for the remote, the wonderful, and the beautiful. All these desires were abundantly fed during the Elizabethan age, which is our first and greatest romantic epoch. On the one hand, there was the revolt against the past, whose grasp was too feeble to hold in restraint the lusty youth of the Elizabethan age; on the other, there was a daring and resolute spirit of adventure in literary as well as in other regions; and, most important of all, there was an unmistakable buoyancy and freshness in the strong wind of the spirit. It was the ardent youth of English literature, and the achievement was worthy of it.

4. The Drama. The bold and critical attitude of the time was in keeping with the dramatic instinct, which is analytic and observant. Hence, after the long period of incubation detailed in the last chapter, the drama made a swift and wonderful leap into maturity. Yet it had still many early difficulties to overcome. The actors themselves were at variance, so much so that outrageous brawls were frequent. On more than one occasion between 1590 and 1593 the theaters were closed owing to disturbances caused by the actors. In 1594 the problem was solved by the licensing of two troupes of players, the Lord Chamberlain’s (among whom was Shakespeare) and the Lord Admiral’s. Another early difficulty the drama had to face was its fondness for taking part in the quarrels of the time—for example, in the burning “Marprelate” controversy. Owing to this meddling the theaters were closed in 1589. Already, also, a considerable amount of Puritanical opposition was declaring itself. The most important anti-dramatic book of the day was Gosson’s virulent School of Abuse (1579), to which Sidney replied with his Apologie for Poetrie (about 1580).

In spite of such early difficulties, the drama reached the splendid consummation of Shakespeare’s art; but before the period closed decline was apparent.

5. Poetry. Though the poetical production was not quite equal to the dramatic, it was nevertheless of great and original beauty. As can be observed from the disputes of the time, the passion for poetry was absorbing, and the outcome of it was equal to expectation.

6. Prose. For the first time prose rises to a position of first-rate importance. The dead weight of the Latin tradition was passing away; English prose was acquiring a tradition and a universal application; and so the rapid development was almost inevitable.

7. Scottish Literature. A curious minor feature of the age was the disappearance of Scottish literature, after its brief but remarkable appearance in the previous age. At this point it took to ground, and did not reappear till late in the eighteenth century.

1. His Life. From a passage in one of his sonnets it seems clear that Spenser was born in 1552; and from another passage, in his Prothalamion, we can deduce that he was born in London. His parentage is unknown; but, though Spenser claimed kinship with the noble branch of the Spenser family, it is fairly certain that he was a member of some northern plebeian branch. He was educated at the Merchant Taylors’ School (just founded in 1560) and at Cambridge. He left Cambridge in 1576, and for a few years his movements are unknown, though he probably spent the time in the North of England. He comes into view in London during the year 1579 as a member of the famous literary circle surrounding Sir Philip Sidney and his uncle the Earl of Leicester. Sidney patronized Spenser, introducing him to the Queen and encouraging him in his imitation of the classical meters. In 1580 Sidney’s patronage bore fruit, for Spenser was appointed secretary to Lord Grey de Wilton, who had just been appointed Lord-Deputy of Ireland.

In Ireland Spenser remained for eighteen years, serving the English government in more than one capacity, and seeing his share of the rebellion, outrage, and misery that afflicted the unhappy land. In the end his services were requited by the grant of Kilcolman Castle, near Limerick, and an estate of three thousand acres. In 1589 he visited London to publish the first three books of The Faerie Queene. After remaining in London for nearly two years he returned to Ireland; married an Irishwoman (1591); revisited London in 1596, bringing a second instalment of his great work; and once more returned to Kilcolman, which was ultimately burnt down (1598) during one of the sporadic rebellions that tormented the country. One of his children perished in the fire. A ruined and disappointed man, he repaired to London, where in the next year he died, “for lack of bread,” according to the statement of Ben Jonson.

2. His Minor Poems. The first of the poems that have descended to us is The Shepherd’s Calendar (1579). The title, adopted from a popular compilation of the day, suggests the contents: a series of twelve eclogues, one for each month of the year. Each eclogue, as is common with the species, is in dialogue form, in which the stock pastoral characters, such as Cuddie, Colin Clout, and Perigot, take part. The pieces, though they are of no great poetical merit, served as excellent poetical exercises, for they range widely in meter, contain much skillful alliteration, and juggle with the conventional phrases of the pastoral.

A volume of miscellaneous poems, including The Ruins of Time, The Tears of the Muses, Mother Hubberd’s Tale, and The Ruins of Rome, appeared in 1591; in 1595 he published his Amoretti, a series of eighty-eight sonnets celebrating the progress of his love; Epithalamion, a magnificent ode, rapturously jubilant, written in honor of his marriage; and Colin Clouts Come Home Againe, somewhat wordy, but containing some interesting personal details. In 1596 appeared his Four Hymns and Prothalamion, the latter not so fine as the great ode of the previous year.

Spenser’s shorter poems illustrate his lyrical ability, which is moderate in quality. His style is too diffuse and ornate to be intensely passionate; but, especially in the odes, he can build up sonorous and commanding measures which by their weight and splendor delight both mind and ear. To a lesser extent, as in Mother Hubberd’s Tale, the shorter poems afford him scope for his satirical bent, which can be sharp and censorious.

We quote from the Epithalamion, which stands at the summit of English odes:

3. Prose. In addition to his letters, which are often interesting and informative, Spenser left one longish prose work, a kind of State paper done in the form of a dialogue. Called A View of the Present State of Ireland (1594), it gives Spenser’s views on the settlement of the Irish question. His opinions are exceeding hostile to the Irish, and his methods, if put in force, would amount to pure terrorism. The style of the pamphlet is quite undistinguished.

4. The Faerie Queene. In spite of the variety and beauty of his shorter poems, The Faerie Queene is by far the most important of Spenser’s works.

(a) Dates of Composition. The work appeared in instalments. In 1589 Spenser crossed to London and published the first three books; in 1596 the second three followed; and after his death two cantos and two odd stanzas of Book VII appeared. It was reported that more of the work perished in manuscript during the fire at Kilcolman, but this is not certain.

(b) The Plot. The construction of the plot is so obscure (“clowdily enwrapped in Allegorical devises,” as Spenser himself says) that he was compelled to write a preface, in the form of a letter to his friend Sir Walter Raleigh, explaining the scheme underlying the whole. There were to be twelve books, each book to deal with the adventures of a particular knight, who was to represent some virtue. As we have the poem, the first book deals with the Knight of the Red Cross, representing Holiness; the second with Temperance; the third with Chastity; the fourth with Friendship; and so on. The chief of all the twelve is Prince Arthur, who is to appear at critical moments in the poem, and who in the end is to marry Gloriana, the Queen of “Faerie-londe.” The plot is exceedingly leisurely and elaborate; it is crammed with incident and digression; and by the fifth book it is palpably weakening. It is therefore no misfortune (as far as the plot is concerned) that only half of the story is finished.

(c) The Allegory. With its twelve divisions, each of which bears many smaller branches, the allegory is the most complex in the language. Through the story three strands keep running, twisting and untwisting in a manner both baffling and delightful. (1) There are the usual characters, poorly developed, of the Arthurian and classical romance, such as Arthur, Merlin, Saracens, fauns, and satyrs. (2) There are the allegorized moral and religious virtues, with their counterparts in the vices: Una (Truth), Guyon (Temperance), Duessa (Deceit), Orgoglio (Pride).

(3) Lastly, there is the strongly Elizabethan political-historical-religious element, also strongly allegorized. For example, Gloriana is Elizabeth, Duessa may be Mary, Queen of Scots, Archimago may be the Pope, and Artegal (Justice) is said to be Lord Grey. Sometimes the allegory winds and multiplies in a bewildering fashion. Elizabeth, who is grossly and shamelessly flattered in the poem, is sometimes Gloriana, sometimes Belphœbe, or Britomart, or Mercilla. It is very ingenious, but it retards the story.

(d) The Style. No one, however, goes to Spenser for a story; one goes to steep the senses in the rich and voluptuous style. The style has its weaknesses: it is diffuse, and lacks judgment; it is weak in “bite” and in sharpness of attack; and it is misty and unsubstantial. But for beauty long and richly wrought, for subtle and sustained melody, for graphic word-pictures, and for depth and magical color of atmosphere the poem stands supreme in English. Its imitators, good and bad, are legion. Milton, Keats, and Tennyson are among the best of them, and its influence is still powerful.

(e) The Technique. To the formal part of the poem Spenser devoted the intelligence and care of the great artist. (1) First of all, he elaborated an archaic diction: “he writ no language,” said Ben Jonson, who did not like the diction. When the occasion demanded it he invented words or word-forms; for example, he uses blend for blind, kest for cast, and vilde for vile. The result is not perhaps ideal, but on the whole it suits the old-world atmosphere of the poem. (2) He introduced the Spenserian stanza, which ever since has been one of the most important measures in the language. Longer than the usual stanza, but shorter than the sonnet, as a unit it is just long enough to give an easy pace to the slowly pacing narrative. The complicated rhymes of the stanza suit the interwoven harmonies of the style; and the long line at the end acts either as a dignified conclusion or as a longer and stronger link with the succeeding stanza. (3) The alliteration, vowel-music, and cadence are cunningly fashioned, adroitly developed, and sumptuously appropriate. In these last respects Spenser is almost peerless.

We add two brief extracts to illustrate some features of the style. The reader should analyze the stanza and observe the graphical power and the melodic beauty.

1. Sir Thomas Wyat (1503–42) was descended from an ancient Yorkshire family which adopted the Lancastrian side in the Wars of the Roses. He was educated at Cambridge, and, entering the King’s service, was entrusted with many important diplomatic missions. In public life his principal patron was Thomas Cromwell, after whose death he was recalled from abroad and imprisoned (1541). Though subsequently acquitted and released, he died shortly afterward.

None of Wyat’s poems is very long, though in number they are considerable. The most numerous of them are his love-poems, ninety-six in all, which appeared in a compendium of the day called Tottel’s Miscellany (1557). The most noteworthy of these poems are the sonnets, the first of their kind in English, thirty-one in number. Of these, ten are written almost entirely in the Italian or Petrarchan form. In sentiment the shorter poems, and especially the sonnets, are serious and reflective; in style and construction they are often too closely imitative to be natural and genial; but as indications of the new scholastic and literary influences at work upon English, sweetening and chastening the earlier uncouthness, they are of the highest importance. Wyat’s epigrams, songs, and rondeaux are lighter than the sonnets, and they also reveal a care and elegance that were typical of the new romanticism. His Satires are composed in the Italian terza rima, once again showing the direction of the innovating tendencies.

2. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1518–47), whose name is usually associated in literature with that of Wyat, was the younger poet of the two. He was the son of Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, and when his father became Duke of Norfolk (1524) the son adopted the courtesy title of Earl of Surrey. Owing largely to the powerful position of his father, Surrey took a prominent part in the Court life of the time, and served as a soldier both in France and Scotland. He was a man of reckless temper, which involved him in many quarrels, and finally brought upon him the wrath of the ageing and embittered Henry VIII. He was arrested, tried for treason, and beheaded on Tower Hill.

About 1542 Surrey began his literary relations with Wyat, who was his elder by fifteen years. His poems, which were the recreations of his few leisure moments, and which were not published till after his death (1557), appeared along with Wyat’s in Tottel’s Miscellany. They are chiefly lyrical, and include a few sonnets, the first of their kind, composed in the English or Shakespearian mode—an arrangement of three quatrains followed by a couplet. There are in addition a large number of love-poems addressed to a mysterious “Geraldine.” They are smoother than Wyat’s poems, and are much more poetical in sentiment and expression. His most important poem was published separately: Certain Bokes of Virgiles Æneis turned into English Meter (1557). Though the actual translation is of no outstanding merit, the form is of great significance; it is done in blank verse, rather rough and frigid, but the earliest forerunner of the great achievements of Shakespeare and Milton.

In the development of English verse Surrey represents a further stage: a higher poetical faculty, increased ease and refinement, and the introduction of two metrical forms of capital importance—the English form of the sonnet, and blank verse. We add a specimen of the earliest English blank verse. It is wooden and uninspired, but as a beginning it is worthy of attention.

3. Thomas Sackville, Earl of Dorset (1536–1608), was born at Buckhurst, in Sussex, and was educated both at Oxford and Cambridge. He was called to the Bar, entered Parliament, took part in many diplomatic and public missions, and was created Lord Buckhurst in 1566. His plain speaking did not recommend itself to Elizabeth, and for a time he was in disgrace. He was restored to favor, created Lord High Treasurer, and made Earl of Dorset in 1604.

In bulk Sackville’s poetry does not amount to much, but in merit it is of much consequence. Two poems, The Induction and The Complaint of Henry, Duke of Buckingham, appeared in a miscellany called The Mirror for Magistrates (1555). Both are composed in the rhyme royal stanza, are melancholy and elegiac in spirit and archaic in language, but have a severe nobility of thought and a grandeur of conception and of language quite unknown since the days of Chaucer. The poems undoubtedly assisted Spenser in the composition of The Faerie Queene.

Sackville collaborated with Norton in the early tragedy of Gorboduc (see p. 77).

We add a few stanzas from The Induction to illustrate the somber graphical power of the poem:

4. George Gascoigne (1535–77) is another of the founders of the great Elizabethan tradition. He was born in Bedfordshire, educated at Cambridge, and became a lawyer. Later in life he entered Parliament.

In addition to a large number of elegant lyrics, he composed one of the first regular satires in the language, The Steel Glass (1576). This poem has the additional importance of being written in blank verse. Among his other numerous works we can mention his tragedy Jocasta (1566), a landmark in the growth of the drama (see p. 77); his Supposes (1566), an important early comedy which was the basis of Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew; and Certayne Notes of Instruction concerning the Making of Verse in English (1575), one of our earliest critical essays. In ease and versatility Gascoigne is typical of the best early Elizabethan miscellaneous writers.

5. Sir Philip Sidney (1554–86) was the chief of an elegant literary coterie, and exercised an influence which was almost supreme during his short life. He was the most commanding literary figure before the prime of Spenser and Shakespeare. Born in Kent of an aristocratic family, he was educated at Shrewsbury and Oxford, and then traveled widely. He took a brilliant part in the military-literary-courtly life common with the young nobles of the time, and at the early age of thirty-two was mortally wounded at Zutphen when assisting the Dutch against the Spaniards.

Sidney was successful in more than one branch of literature, but he owes his position chiefly to his collection of sonnets called Astrophel and Stella. Though they are strongly imitative of Italian sentiment, and are immature in thought and in general ideas, they are often remarkable for their flashes of real passion and their genuine poetical style. In metrical form they adopt the English scheme, and thus in another respect they foreshadow the great Shakespearian sonnets, to which alone they take second place.

6. Michael Drayton (1563–1631) represents the later epoch of Elizabethan literature. He was born in Warwickshire, studied at Oxford, was attached to a noble family as tutor, came to London about 1590, and for the remainder of his long life was busy in the production of his many poems.

His first book was a collection of religious poems called The Harmony of the Church (1591); then followed a number of long historical poems, which include England’s Heroical Epistles and The Barons’ Wars (1603). His Polyolbion is the most important of his longer poems, and belongs to a later period of his career. It is a long, careful, and tedious description of the geographical features of England, interspersed with tales, and written in alexandrines. His shorter poems, such as his well-known poem on Agincourt, and his verse tales and pastorals, such as The Man in the Moon and Nymphidia, are skillful and attractive. Drayton is rarely an inspired poet—the wonderful sonnet beginning “Since there’s no help” (see p. 152) is perhaps his only poem in which we feel inspiration flowing freely—but he is painstaking, versatile, and sometimes (as in Nymphidia) delightful.

7. Thomas Campion (1567–1620) was born in London, educated at Cambridge, studied law in Gray’s Inn, but ultimately became a physician (1606). He wrote some masques that had much popularity, but his chief claim to fame lies in his attractive lyrics, most of which have been set to music composed partly by the poet himself. His best-known collections of songs were A Booke of Ayres (1601), Songs of Mourning (1613), and Two Bookes of Ayres (1613). Campion had not the highest lyrical genius, but he had an ear skillful in adapting words to tunes, the knack of sweet phrasing, and a mastery of complicated meters. He is one of the best examples of the accomplished poet who, lacking the highest inspiration of poetry, excels in the lower technical features.

The lyric of Campion’s that we add is typical not only of his own grace and melody, but also of the later Elizabethan lyrics as a whole. The ideas, in themselves somewhat forced and fantastic, are expressed with great felicity.

8. Phineas Fletcher (1582–1650) and Giles Fletcher (1588–1623) are usually associated in the history of literature. They were brothers, were both educated at Cambridge, and both took holy orders. Both were poetical disciples of Spenser.

Phineas Fletcher’s chief poem is The Purple Island, or The Isle of Man (1633), a curious work in twelve cantos describing the human body in an allegorical-descriptive fashion. There is much digression, which gives the poet some scope for real poetical passages. In its plan the poem is cumbrous and artificial, but it contains many descriptions in the Spenserian manner. The stanza is a further modification of the Spenserian, which it resembles except for its omission of the fifth and seventh lines.

Giles’s best-known poem is Christ’s Victorie and Triumph (1610), an epical poem in four cantos. The title of the poem sufficiently suggests its subject; in style it is glowingly descriptive, imaginative, and is markedly ornate and melodious in diction. It is said partly to have inspired Milton’s Paradise Regained. The style is strongly suggestive of Spenser’s, and the stanza conveys the same impression, for it is the Spenserian stanza lacking the seventh line.

The Fletchers are imitators, but imitators of high quality. They lack the positive genius of their model Spenser, but they have intensity, color, melody, and great metrical artistry.

9. John Donne (1573–1631) was born in London, the son of a wealthy merchant. He was educated at Oxford, and then studied law. Though he entered the public service and served with some distinction, his bent was always theological, and in 1616 he was ordained. In 1621 he was appointed Dean of St. Paul’s.

Donne’s poetical works are probably more important than those composed in prose, valuable though the latter are. He began poetical composition with Satires (1593), forcible and picturesque, though crabbed and obscure in language. His other poems include The Progress of the Soul, his longest poem, composed about 1600; An Anatomy of the World (1611), a wild, exaggerated eulogy of a friend’s daughter, who had just died; and a large number of miscellaneous poems, including songs, sonnets, elegies, and letters in verse.

In his nature Donne had a strain of actual genius, but his natural gifts were so obscured with fitful, wayward, and exaggerated mannerisms that for long he was gravely underrated. His miscellaneous poems show his poetical features at their best: a solemn, half-mystical, half-fanatical religious zeal; a style of somber grandeur, shot with piercing gleams of poetical imagery; and an almost unearthly music of word and phrase. Often, and especially in the Satires, he is rough and obscure; in thought and expression he is frequently fantastic and almost ludicrous; but at his best, when his stubborn, melancholy humor is fired with his emotional frenzy, he is almost alone in his curious compound of gloom and brilliance, of ice and consuming fire. He is the last of the Elizabethans, and among the first of the coming race of the “Metaphysicals.”

His prose works comprise a large number of sermons, a few theological treatises, of which the greatest is The Pseudo-Martyr (1609), and a small number of personal letters. In its peculiar manner his prose is a reflex of his poetry. There is the same soaring and exaggerated imagery, the same fierce pessimism, and often the same obscurity and roughness. In prose his sentences are long and shapeless, but the cadence is rapid and free, and so is suited to the purposes of the sermon.

As a brief specimen of his poetical mannerisms, good and bad, we add the following sonnet. The reader will observe the rugged grandeur of the style and the curious intellectual twist that he gives to the general idea of the poem.

10. Samuel Daniel (1562–1619) was born near Taunton in Somerset, educated at Oxford, and became tutor to the son of the Countess of Pembroke. For a time (1599) he was Poet Laureate, and was made (1603) Master of the Queen’s Revels by James I.

His poems include a sonnet-series called Delia (1592), a romance called The Complaint of Rosamund (1592), some long historical poems, such as The Civil Wars (1595), and a large number of masques, of which The Queenes Wake (1610) and Hymen’s Triumph (1615) are the most important. His best work appears in his sonnets, which, composed in the English manner, carry on the great tradition of Sidney, Spenser, and Shakespeare. In his longer poems he is prosy and dull, though the masques have pleasing touches of imagination.

11. The poetical miscellanies which abound during this period are typical of the time. By the very extravagance of their titles they reveal the enthusiasm felt for the revival of English poetry. Each volume consists of a collection of short pieces by various poets, some well known and others unknown. Some of the best poems are anonymous. Among much that is almost worthless, there are happily preserved many poems, sometimes by unknown poets, of great and enduring beauty. We have already drawn attention (p. 96) to Tottel’s Miscellany (1557), which contained, among other poems, the pieces of Wyat and Surrey. Other volumes are The Paradyse of Daynty Devises (1576), A Handfull of Pleasant Delites (1584), The Phœnix Nest (1593), and The Passionate Pilgrim (1599). The last book contains poems by Shakespeare, Marlowe, and Ralegh. The most important of the miscellanies is England’s Helicon (1600), which surpasses all others for fullness, variety, and excellence of contents.

In the last chapter we gave a summary of the rise of the English drama; it is now necessary to give an account of the early Elizabethan playwrights.

The name “University Wits” is usually applied to a group of young men, nearly all of whom were associated with Oxford or Cambridge, who did much to found the Elizabethan school of drama. They were all more or less acquainted with each other, and most of them led irregular and stormy lives. Their plays had several features in common. These features were of a nature almost inevitable in strong and immature productions.

(a) There was a fondness for heroic themes, such as the lives of great figures like Mohammed and Tamburlaine.

(b) Heroic themes needed heroic treatment: great fullness and variety; splendid descriptions, long swelling speeches, the handling of violent incidents and emotions. These qualities, excellent when held in restraint, only too often led to loudness and disorder.

(c) The style also was “heroic.” The chief aim was to achieve strong and sounding lines, magnificent epithets, and powerful declamation. This again led to abuse and to mere bombast, mouthing, and in the worst cases to nonsense. In the best examples, such as in Marlowe, the result is quite impressive. In this connection it is to be noted that the best medium for such expression was blank verse, which was sufficiently elastic to bear the strong pressure of these expansive methods.

(d) The themes were usually tragic in nature, for the dramatists were as a rule too much in earnest to give heed to what was considered to be the lower species of comedy. The general lack of real humor in the early drama is one of its most prominent features. Humor, when it is brought in at all, is coarse and immature. Almost the only representative of the writers of real comedies is Lyly, who in such plays as Alexander and Campaspe (1584), Endymion (1592), and The Woman in the Moon gives us the first examples of romantic comedy.

1. George Peele (1558–98) was born in London, educated at Christ’s Hospital and at Oxford, and became a literary hack and free-lance in London. His plays include The Araygnement of Paris (1581), a kind of romantic comedy; The Famous Chronicle of King Edward the First (1593), a rambling chronicle-play; The Old Wives’ Tale (1595), a clever satire on the popular drama of the day; and The Love of King David and Fair Bethsabe (published 1599). Peele’s style can be violent to the point of absurdity; but he has his moments of real poetry; he can handle his blank verse with more ease and variety than was common at the time; he is fluent; he has humor and a fair amount of pathos. In short, he represents a great advance upon the earliest drama, and is perhaps the most attractive among the playwrights of the time.

We give a short example to illustrate the poetical quality of his blank verse:

2. Robert Greene (1560–92) wrote much and recklessly, but his plays are of sufficient merit to find a place in the development of the drama. He was born at Norwich, educated at Cambridge (1575) and at Oxford (1588), and then took to a literary life in London. If all accounts, including his own, are true, his career in London must have taken place in a sink of debauchery. He is said to have died, after an orgy in a London ale-house, “of a surfeit of pickle herringe and Rennish wine.”

Here we can refer only to his thirty-five prose tracts, which are probably the best of his literary work, for they reveal his intense though erratic energy, his quick, malicious wit, and his powerful imagination. His plays number four: Alphonsus, King of Arragon (1587), an imitation of Marlowe’s Tamburlaine; Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay (1589), easily his best, and containing some fine representations of Elizabethan life; Orlando Furioso (1586), adapted from an English translation of Ariosto; and The Scottish Historie of James the Fourth (acted in 1592), not a “historical” play, but founded on an imaginary incident in the life of the King. Greene is weak in creating characters, and his style is not of outstanding merit; but his humor is somewhat genial in his plays, and his methods less austere than those of the other tragedians.

3. Thomas Nash (1567–1601) was born at Lowestoft, educated at Cambridge, and then (1586) went to London to make his living by literature. He was a born journalist, but in those days the only scope for his talents lay in pamphleteering. He took an active part in the political and personal questions of the day, and his truculent methods actually landed him in jail (1600). He finished Marlowe’s Dido, but his only surviving play is Summer’s Last Will and Testament (1592), a satirical masque. His Jack Wilton, or The Unfortunate Traveller (1594), a prose tale, is important in the development of the novel (see p. 336).

4. Thomas Lodge (1558–1625) was the son of a Lord Mayor of London, was educated in London and at Oxford, and studied law. He deserted his legal studies, took to a literary career, and is said to have been an actor at one time.

His dramatic work is small in quantity. He probably collaborated with Shakespeare in Henry VI, and with other dramatists, including Greene. The only surviving play entirely his own is The Woundes of Civile War, a kind of chronicle-play. His pamphleteering was voluminous and energetic; and he imitated the euphuistic tales of Lyly.

5. Thomas Kyd (1558–94) is one of the most important of the University Wits. Very little is known of his life. He was born in London, educated (probably) at Merchant Taylors’ School, adopted a literary career, and became secretary to a nobleman. He became acquainted with Marlowe, and that brilliant but sinister spirit enticed him into composing “lewd libels” and “blasphemies.” Marlowe’s sudden death saved him from punishment for such offenses; but Kyd was imprisoned and tortured. Though he was afterward released, Kyd soon died under the weight of “bitter times and privy broken passions.”

Much of this dramatist’s work has been lost. Of the surviving plays The Spanish Tragedy (about 1585) is the most important. Its horrific plot, involving murder, frenzy, and sudden death, gave the play a great and lasting popularity. There is a largeness of tragical conception about the play that resembles the work of Marlowe, and there are touches of style that dimly foreshadow the great tragical lines of Shakespeare. Other plays of Kyd’s are Soliman and Perseda (1588), Jeronimo (1592), a kind of prologue to The Spanish Tragedy, and Cornelia (1594), a tedious translation from the French.

6. Christopher Marlowe (1564–93) is symbolical both of the best and the worst of his boisterous times. The eldest son of a shoemaker, he was born at Canterbury, and educated there and at Cambridge. Like so many more of that day, he adopted literature as a profession, and became attached to the Lord Admiral’s players. Marlowe’s great mental powers had in them a twist of perversity, and they led him into many questionable actions and beliefs. He became almost the pattern of the evil ways of his tribe. Charges of atheism and immorality were laid against him, and only his sudden death saved him from the experiences of his friend Kyd. Marlowe is said to have met his death in a tavern brawl, “stabbed to death by a bawdy servingman, a rival of his in his lewde love.” In fairness to the memory of Marlowe it must be remembered that these charges were made against him by the Puritanical opponents of the stage.

With Marlowe’s tragedies we at length come within measureable distance of Shakespeare. The gulf between the work of the two men is still very great. In Marlowe there is none of that benign humanity that clings to even the grimmest of Shakespeare’s tragedies. Marlowe’s characters are bleak in nature and massive in outline; enormous and majestical, but forbidding and almost inhuman. His style has the same qualities: glowing with a volcanic energy, capable of a mighty soaring line and phrase (“Marlowe’s mighty line,” as Ben Jonson called it), but diffuse, truculent, exaggerated, and bombastic. It is a lopsided style lacking the more amiable qualities of humor, flexibility, sweetness, and brevity.

His four great plays, all written within a few years, are Tamburlaine the Great (1587), Doctor Faustus (1588), The Jew of Malta (1589), and Edward II (1593). All four, in their march of horrors and splendors, are not unlike one another. The last has a conclusion which for pity and terror ranks among the great achievements of Elizabethan tragedy. The plays, moreover, show a progressing dexterity in the handling of blank verse. Marlowe’s life was pitiably short. If he had lived there might have been another triumph to chronicle.

He also collaborated with Nash in the tragedy of Dido (1593), and left uncompleted a poor fragment of a play called The Massacre at Paris.

We give a brief extract to show the “mighty line.” In the passage Tamburlaine, “the Scourge of God,” mentally reviews his past conquests.

1. His Life. In considering the life of Shakespeare we have at our disposal a fair number of facts; but on these facts the industry of commentators has constructed an additional mass of great magnitude and complexity. It is therefore the duty of the historian with only a limited space at his disposal to keep his eye steadily upon the established facts and, without being superior or disdainful, to turn toward speculation or surmise, however ingenious or laborious, a face of tempered but obdurate skepticism.

The future dramatist, as we learn from the church records, was baptized in the parish church at Stratford-on-Avon on April 26, 1564. He may have been born on April 23, St. George’s Day, which happens also to be the date of his death in 1616. His father, John Shakespeare, was a burgess of the town, and seems to have followed the occupations of a butcher, a glover, and a farmer. The boy may have attended the grammar school of the town, though Ben Jonson, himself a competent scholar, affirmed that Shakespeare knew “small Latin and less Greek.” From various entries in the town records it is clear that John Shakespeare, after flourishing for a time, fell on evil days, and the son may have assisted in the paternal butcher’s shop. A bond dated November 28, 1582, affords clear evidence of Shakespeare’s marriage on that date to a certain “Anne Hatthwey of Stratford.” As at this time Shakespeare was only eighteen, and (as appears from the inscription on her monument) the bride was eight years older, speculation has busied itself over the somewhat ill-assorted match.

In 1584 Shakespeare left his native town. Why he did so is not known. The most popular explanation, which appeared after his death, is that he was convicted of poaching on the estate of a local magnate, Sir Thomas Lucy, and that he fled to escape the consequences. Then, until 1592, when he reappears as a rising actor, Shakespeare disappears from view. During this period he is said to have wandered through the country, finally coming to London, where he performed various menial offices, including that of holding horses at the stage-door. On the face of them such tales are not improbable, but they grew up when the dramatist had become a half-mythical figure.

In 1592 Robert Greene, in a carping book called A Groatsworth of Wit, mentions “an upstart crow ... in his own conceit the only Shakescene in a country.”[98] This reference, most probably a gibe at Shakespeare, shows that he is now important enough to merit abuse. In 1595 his name appears on the payroll of the Lord Chamberlain’s company of actors, who performed at the Court. This company, one of the most important in the town, also played in the provinces, especially during the plague of 1603, in the Shoreditch Theatre till it was demolished in 1598, in the Globe Theatre, and finally (after 1608) in the Blackfriars. During this period, as can be inferred from his purchases of property both in London and Stratford, Shakespeare was prospering in worldly affairs. He was a competent but not a great actor; tradition asserts that his chief parts were of the type of Adam in As You Like It and the Ghost in Hamlet. His chief function was to write dramas for his company, and the fruit of such labor was his plays.

About 1610 Shakespeare left London for Stratford, where he stayed at New Place, a house that he had bought. He may have written his last plays there; but it is likely that his connection with his company of actors ceased when the Globe Theatre was burned down during a performance of Henry VIII in 1613. His will, a hurriedly executed document, is dated March 25, 1616. His death occurred a month later, April 23.

2. His Poems. Shakespeare’s two long narrative poems were among the earliest of his writings. Venus and Adonis (1593), composed in six-line stanzas, showed decided signs of immaturity. Its subject was in accordance with popular taste; its descriptions were heavily ornamented and conventional; but it contained individual lines and expressions of great beauty. Already the hand of Shakespeare was apparent. The Rape of Lucrece (1594), in rhyme royal stanzas, is of less merit. As was common in the poetry of that day, the action was retarded with long speeches, but there were Shakespearian touches all through. In 1599 a collection of verse called The Passionate Pilgrim appeared with Shakespeare’s name on the title-page. Of the constituent poems only one, taking its name from the title of the book, has been decidedly fixed as Shakespeare’s. It consists of some sonnets of unequal merit.

In 1609 a collection of Shakespeare’s sonnets was printed by Thomas Thorpe, who dedicated the volume to a certain “Mr. W. H.” as being “the onlie begetter” of the sonnets. Speculation has exhausted itself regarding the identity of “Mr. W. H.” The most probable explanation is that he was William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke. The sonnets themselves consist of 154 numbers, which are all composed in the English form of the sonnet, that of three quatrains clenched with a couplet. The entire collection falls into two groups of unequal size, divided, at number cxxvi, by a poem of six couplets. The first group consists largely of a series of cryptic references, often passionately expressed, to his friendship with a youth, apparently of high rank, who may be, and probably is, the mysterious “Mr. W. H.” The second group, also obscurely phrased, is taken up with reproaches addressed to his mistress, “a black beauty,” whose hair is like “black wires.” The identity of this “Dark Lady of the Sonnets” is one of the romances of our literature. She may be, as is often asserted, Mary Fitton, who happened to be fair; but she probably did not exist at all. Among the numerous sonneteers of the time it was a common trick to apostrophize a lovely and fickle mistress, as a rule quite imaginary, and it may be that Shakespeare was following the custom of the period.

Concerning the literary quality of the sonnets there can be no dispute. In the depth, breadth, and persistency of their passion, in their lordly but never overweening splendor of style, and, above all, in their mastery of a rich and sensuous phraseology, they are unique. Byron once remarked that the tissue of poetry cannot be all brilliance, any more than the midnight sky can be entirely stars; but several of the sonnets (for example, xxx, xxxiii, lv, lxxi, cxvi) are thick clusters of starlight; and all through the series the frequency of lovely phrasing is great indeed. We quote one sonnet that is nearly perfect; the second that we give, after a splendid opening, deteriorates toward the conclusion.

Shakespeare’s later poetical work is worthily represented in the numerous lyrics that are scattered through the plays. It is not quite certain how much of the songs is original; it is almost certain that Shakespeare, like Burns, used popular songs as the basis of many of his lyrics. As they stand, however, the lyrics show a great range of accomplishment, most of it of the highest quality. It varies from the nonsense-verses in Hamlet and King Lear to the graceful perfection of Ariel’s “Full fathom five”; from the homely rusticity of “It was a lover and his lass” to the scholarly ease and wry humor of “O mistress mine”; it includes such gems as the willow-song in Othello, “Take, O take those lips away,” in Measure for Measure, and the noble dirge, “Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,” in Cymbeline. If Shakespeare had not been our greatest dramatist, he would have taken a place among our greatest lyrical poets.

3. His Plays. Concerning the plays that are usually accepted as being Shakespeare’s, almost endless discussion has arisen. In the following pages we shall indicate the main lines of Shakesperian criticism.

(a) The Order of the Plays. All the manuscripts of the plays have perished; Shakespeare himself printed none of the texts; and though eighteen of them appeared singly in quarto form during his lifetime, they were all unauthorized editions. It was not till 1623, seven years after his death, that the First Folio edition was printed. It contained thirty-six dramas (Pericles was omitted), and these are now universally accepted as Shakespeare’s. In the Folio edition the plays are not arranged chronologically, nor are the dates of composition given. The dates of the separate Quartos are registered at Stationers’ Hall, but these are the dates of the printing. With such scanty evidence to hand to assign the order of the plays, a task fundamental to all discussion of the dramas, much ingenious deductive work has been necessary. The evidence can be divided into three groups.

(1) Contemporary References. With one important exception, such are of little value. The exception occurs in a book by Francis Meres (1565–1647), an Elizabethan schoolmaster. In Palladis Tamia, Wit’s Treasury (1598) he gives a list of contemporary authors, among whom is Shakespeare. Meres mentions twelve of Shakespeare’s plays, along with “his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece, and his sugred sonnets among his private friends.” This valuable reference supplies us with a list of plays which were written before 1598.

(2) Internal References. In the course of the plays there occur passages, more or less obscure, that can be traced to contemporary events. Such are the references to “the imperial votaress” (perhaps Elizabeth) in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to “the two-fold balls and treble sceptres” (perhaps the Union of 1603) in Macbeth, and to a famous eclipse of the moon in the Sonnets. Owing to the invariable obscurity of the passages, this class of evidence should be used cautiously, but unfortunately it has been made the basis of much wild theorizing.

(3) The Literary Evidence. Soberly examined, and taken strictly in conjunction with the statement of Meres and the dates of the Quartos (when these are available), this type of evidence is by far the most reliable. We can examine the workmanship of the plays, paying attention to the construction of the plots, the force and originality of the characters, the standard of style, the metrical dexterity—in short, the general level of competence. In a general survey of the dramas no great skill is necessary on the part of the reader to observe a distinct variation in craftsmanship. By grading the plays according to their literary development a certain rough approximation of date can be deduced.

(b) The Dates of the Plays. The following table, which to a large extent is the outcome of generations of discussion and contention, represents a moderate or average estimate of the dates of the plays. It can be only an approximate estimate, for no exact decision can ever be possible.

(c) Classification of the Plays. It is customary to group the plays into sets that to some extent traverse the order given above.

(1) The Early Comedies. In these plays there is a certain amount of immaturity: the plots show less originality; the characters are less finished; the power of the style is less sustained; the humor is often puerile and quibbling; and there is a large amount of prose. Of this type are The Comedy of Errors, Love’s Labour’s Lost, and The Two Gentlemen of Verona.

(2) The Histories. These show an advance, particularly in style. There is more blank verse, which, though it is often stiffly imitative of the older playwrights, abounds in splendid passages. The appearance of such characters as Falstaff in Henry IV and other plays is a sign of growing strength.

(3) The Tragedies. The great tragedies, such as Hamlet, Macbeth, and King Lear, are the climax of Shakespearian art. They reveal the best of his characterization and the full power of his style.

(4) The Later Comedies. A mellowed maturity is the chief feature of this group, which contains Cymbeline, The Winter’s Tale, and The Tempest. The creative touch of the dramatist, making living men out of figment, is abundantly in view; the style is notable and serenely adequate; and with the ease of the master the author thoroughly subdues the meter to his will. No more fitting conclusion—rich, ample, and graciously dignified—could be found to round off the work of our greatest literary genius.

4. His Prose. Shakespeare’s prose appears all through the plays, sometimes in passages of considerable length. In the aggregate the amount is quite large. In the earlier comedies the amount is considerable, but the proportion is apt to diminish in the later plays. With regard to the prose, the following points should be observed: (a) it is the common vehicle for comic scenes, though used too in serious passages (one of which is given below); (b) it represents the common speech of the period, and some of it, as can be seen in Hamlet, is pithy and bracing. Even the rather stupid clowning that often takes place cannot altogether conceal its beauty.

We quote a passage from Hamlet. The style is quite modern in phrase, and the beauty and grace of it are far beyond the ordinary standard of Shakespeare’s literary contemporaries.

5. Features of his Plays. The extent, variety, and richness of the plays are quite bewildering as one approaches them. All that can be done here is to set down in order some of the more obvious of their qualities.

(a) Their Originality. In the narrowest sense of the term, Shakespeare took no trouble to be original. Following the custom of the time, he borrowed freely from older plays (such as King Leir), chronicles (such as Holinshed’s), and tales (such as The Jew, the part-origin of The Merchant of Venice). To these he is indebted chiefly for his plots; but in his more mature work the interest in the plot becomes subordinate to the development of character, the highest achievement of the dramatist’s art. He can work his originals deftly: he can interweave plot within plot, as in A Midsummer Night’s Dream; he can solidify years of history into five acts, as in King John and Antony and Cleopatra; and, as in Macbeth, he makes the dust of history glow with the spirit of his imagination.

(b) Characters. (1) In sheer prodigality of output Shakespeare is unrivaled in literature. From king to clown, from lunatic and demi-devil to saint and seer, from lover to misanthrope—all are revealed with the hand of the master. Surveying this multitude, one can only cry out, as Hamlet does, “What a piece of work is man!”

(2) Another feature of Shakespeare’s characterization is his attitude of impartiality. He seems indifferent to good and evil; he has the eye of the creator, viewing bright and dismal things alike, provided they are apt and real. In his characters vice and virtue commingle, and the union is true to the common sense of humanity. Thus the villain Iago is a man of resolution, intelligence, and fortitude; the murderer Claudius (in Hamlet) shows affection, wisdom, and fortitude; the peerless Cleopatra is narrow, spiteful, and avaricious; and the beast Caliban has his moments of ecstatic vision. The list could be extended almost without limit, but these examples must serve.

(3) Hence follows the vital force that resides in the creations of Shakespeare. They live, move, and utter speech; they are rounded, entire, and capable. Very seldom, and that almost entirely in the earlier plays, he uses the wooden puppets that are the stock-in-trade of the inferior dramatist. Of such a kind are some of his “heavy” fathers, like Egeus (in A Midsummer Night’s Dream), and his sentimental lovers, like Orsino (in Twelfth Night). Yet, as a rule, in the hands of Shakespeare the heavy father can develop into such living beings as the meddlesome old bore Polonius (in Hamlet), and the tediously sentimental lover can become the moody and headstrong Romeo, or the virile and drolly humorous Orlando (in As You Like It).

(c) Meter. As in all the other features of his work, in meter Shakespeare shows abnormal range and power. In the earlier plays the blank verse is regular in beat and pause; there is a fondness for the stopped and rhymed couplet; and in a few cases the couplet passes into definite stanza-formation in a manner suggestive of the early pre-Shakespearian comedies.

As Shakespeare becomes more sure of his instrument the verse increases in ease and dexterity; the cadence is varied; the pause is shifted to any position in the line. In the later plays there is an especial fondness for the extra syllable at the end of the line. And before he finishes he has utterly subdued the meter to his will. In the last line of the extract now given every foot is abnormal:

(d) Style. For lack of a better name we call Shakespeare’s style Shakesperian. One can instantly recognize it, even in other authors, where it is rarely visible. It is a difficult, almost an impossible, matter to define it. There is aptness and quotability in it: sheaves of Shakespeare’s expressions have passed into common speech. To a very high degree it possesses sweetness, strength, and flexibility; and above all it has a certain inevitable and final felicity that is the true mark of genius.

The following specimen shows the average Shakespearian style, if such a thing exists at all. It is not extremely elevated or poetical, but it is strong, precise, and individual.

Such a style moves easily into the highest flights of poetry:

Or it can plumb the depths of terror and despair. The following are the words of a condemned wretch shivering on the brink of extinction:

The style lends itself to the serenely ecstatic reverie of the sage:

It can express, on the other hand, the bitterest cynicism:

Or, in prose, Shakespeare can put into words the artless pathos of the humble hostess of the inn:

Shakespeare can rant, and often rants badly; but at its best his ranting glows with such imaginative splendor that it becomes a thing of fire and majesty:

With such a style as this Shakespeare can compass the world of human emotion, and he does so.

6. Summary. “He was the man,” said Dryden, “who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul.”

In the following section it will be found that, although much of the work was composed during Shakespeare’s lifetime, the most typical of the plays appeared after his death. On the whole, moreover, the work marks a decline from the Shakespearian standard, and so we are probably justified in calling this type of drama post-Shakespearian.

1. Ben Jonson (1573–1637) was born at Westminster, and educated at Westminster School. His father died before Jonson’s birth, and the boy adopted the trade of his stepfather, who was a master bricklayer. Bricklaying did not satisfy him for long, and he became a soldier, serving in the Low Countries. From this he turned to acting and writing plays, engaging himself, both as actor and playwright, with the Lord Admiral’s company (1597). At first he had little success, and the discouragement he encountered then must have done much to sour a temper that was not at any time very genial. In his combative fashion he took part freely in the squabbles of the time, and in 1598 he killed a fellow-actor in a duel, narrowly escaping the gallows. On the accession of James I in 1603 there arose a new fashion for picturesque pageants known as masques, and Jonson turned his energies to supplying this demand, with great success. After this period (160315) he commanded great good-fortune, and during this time his best work was produced. In 1617 he was created poet to the King, and the close of James’s reign saw Jonson the undisputed ruler of English literature. His favorite haunt was the Mermaid Tavern, where he reigned as dictator over a younger literary generation. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, and over him was placed the epitaph “O rare Ben Jonson!”

Jonson’s works, extremely voluminous and of varying merit, can be classified for convenience into comedies, tragedies, masques, and lyrics. His one considerable prose work, a kind of commonplace book, to which he gave the curious name of Timber, is of much interest, but does not affect his general position.

He began with the comedy Every Man in his Humour, which was written in 1598; then followed Every Man out of His Humour (1599), Cynthia’s Revels (1600), and The Poetaster (1601). These earliest comedies are rather tedious in their characters, for they emphasize unduly the “humor” or peculiar characteristic of each individual. They are, however, ingenious in plot, rich in rugged and not entirely displeasing fun, and full of vivacity and high spirits. The later group of comedies shows a decided advance. The characters are less angular, livelier, and much more convincing; the style is more matured and equable. Such comedies, perhaps the best of all Jonson’s dramatic work, are Volpone, or The Fox (1605), Epicene, or The Silent Woman (1609), and The Alchemist (1610). His last comedies are lighter and more farcical, and show less care and forethought. They include Bartholomew Fair (1614), The Devil Is an Ass (1616), and The Staple of News (1625). His last unfinished play, The Sad Shepherd, a pastoral comedy, is unapproached among his dramas for its combination of sober reflection, lightness of fancy, and delicacy of touch. In nearly all his comedies Jonson opened up a vein that was nearly new and was to be very freely worked by his successors—the comedy of London life and humors, reflecting the manners of the day.

His two historical tragedies, Sejanus his Fall (1603) and Catiline his Conspiracy (1611), are too labored and mechanical to be reckoned as great tragedies, though their author would fain have had them so. They show immense learning, they have power, variety, and insight, but they lack the last creative touch necessary to stamp them with reality, and to give them a living appeal.

As for his masques, they are abundant, graceful, and humorously ingenious. Into them Jonson introduced the device of the anti-masque, which parodied the principal theme. The best of them are The Masque of Beauty (1608), The Masque of Queens (1609), and Oberon, the Fairy Prince (1611).

The lyrics, which are freely introduced into his plays, and the elegies, epitaphs, and other occasional pieces, many of which appeared in a volume called Underwoods (“consisting of divers poems”), represent Jonson’s work in its sweetest and most graceful phase. His song, a translation from Philostratus, beginning “Drink to me only with thine eyes,” is deservedly famous. We cannot resist quoting two brief but typical pieces:

In the estimation of his own age Jonson stood second to none; to a later generation he is overshadowed by the towering bulk of Shakespeare. But even the enormous prestige of Shakespeare cannot or ought not to belittle the merits of Jonson. Of Jonson we can justly say that he had all good literary gifts except one, and that the highest and most baffling of all—true genius. He had learning—perhaps too much of it; industry and constancy well beyond the ordinary; versatility; a crabbed and not unamiable humor, diversified with sweetness, grace, and nimbleness of wit; and a style quite adequate to his needs. But the summit of it all—the magical phrase that catches the breath, the immortal spirit that creates out of words and buckram “forms more real than living man”—these were lacking; and without these he cannot join the circle of the very great.

2. Francis Beaumont (1584–1616) and John Fletcher (1575–1625) combined to produce a great number of plays, said to be fifty-two in all. How much of the joint work is to be assigned to the respective hands is not accurately known.

The elder, Fletcher, was a cousin of Giles and Phineas Fletcher (see (p. 101), and was born at Rye, Sussex. He was educated at Cambridge, and lived the life of a London literary man. He died of the plague in 1625. His colleague Beaumont, who was probably the abler of the two, was the son of a judge, Sir Francis Beaumont, was educated at Oxford, and entered the Inner Temple (1600), but was captivated by the attractions of a literary life. He died almost within a month of Shakespeare, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

They excelled in comedy, especially in the comedy of London life. Theirs is not the heavy “humorous” comedy of Jonson, but is lighter and more romantic. Their characters are slighter, but more pleasing and human; their humor is free and genial, and their representation of contemporary life is happy and attractive. Their plots are ingenious and workmanlike, and their incidents numerous and striking. Their style shows a distinct decline from the high standard of Shakespeare. They have a greater fondness for prose, their blank verse is looser and weaker, but they are capable of poetical lines and phrases. Typical comedies are A King and No King (1611), esteemed by Dryden the best of them all, The Knight of the Burning Pestle (1611), a very agreeable farce, and The Scornful Lady (1616). Their tragedies, such as The Maid’s Tragedy (1619), Philaster (1620), suggesting Twelfth Night, and The Faithful Shepherdess (by Fletcher alone), are not too tragical, and they are diversified by attractive incidents and descriptions.

3. George Chapman (1559–1634) was born at Hitchin. Beyond this fact little is known of him. He took part in the literary life of his time, for his name appears in the squabbles of his tribe. He died in London.

His first play, The Blind Beggar of Alexandria (1596) was followed by many more, both comical and tragical. Among them are Bussy d’Ambois (1597), Charles, Duke of Byron (1608), and The Tragedie of Chabot (1639). These are historical plays, dealing with events nearly contemporary with his own time. Chapman’s comedies include All Fools (1605) and Eastward Hoe! (1605), in the latter of which he combined with Jonson and Marston. Chapman writes agreeably and well; he has firmness, competence, and variety, and his comic and tragic powers are considerable. His translation of Homer has something of the pace and music of the original.

4. John Marston (1575–1634) was born at Coventry, was educated there and at Oxford, became a literary figure in London, and later took orders. Latterly he resigned his living in Hampshire, and died in London.

Marston specialized in violent and melodramatic tragedies, which do not lack a certain impressiveness, but which are easily parodied and no less easily lead to abuse. They impressed his own generation, who rated him with Jonson. For a later age they are spoiled to a great extent by exaggeration, rant, and excessive speeches. Typical of them are Antonio and Mellida (1602) and Antonio’s Revenge (1602), which were ridiculed by Jonson in The Poetaster.

5. Thomas Dekker (1570–1641) was born in London, where his life was passed as a literary hack and playwright. His plays, chiefly comedies, have an attraction quite unusual for the time. They have a sweetness, an arch sentimentality, and an intimate knowledge of common men and things that have led to his being called the Dickens of the Elizabethan stage. His plots are chaotic, and his blank verse, which very frequently gives place to prose, is weak and sprawling. The best of his plays are Old Fortunatus (1600), The Shoemaker’s Holiday (1600), and Satiromastix (1602). He collaborated with other playwrights, including Ford and Rowley, with whom he wrote The Witch of Edmonton (about 1633), and Massinger, in The Virgin Martyr (1622).

6. Thomas Middleton (1570–1627) was born in London, wrote much for the stage, and in 1620 was made City Chronologer.

He is one of the most equable and literary of the dramatists of the age; he has a decided fanciful turn; he is a close observer and critic of the life of the time, and a dramatist who on a few occasions can rise to the heights of greatness. His most powerful play, which has been much praised by Lamb and others, is The Changeling (1624); others are Women beware Women (1622), The Witch, which bears a strong resemblance to Macbeth, and The Spanish Gipsy (1623), a romantic comedy suggesting As You Like It. Along with Dekker he wrote The Roaring Girle, or Moll Cutpurse (1611), which is a close dramatic parallel to the earliest novels.

7. Thomas Heywood (1575–1650) was born in Lincolnshire about 1575, was educated at Cambridge, and became an author and dramatist in London. He himself asserts that he had a hand (“or at least a main finger”) in two hundred and twenty plays, of which twenty-three survive.

Like so many more dramatists of the time, he excelled in his pictures of London life and manners. He was a rapid and light improviser, an expert contriver of stage situations, but otherwise content with passable results, and caring little about the higher flights of the dramatist. His best play is A Woman Killed with Kindnesse (1603), which contains some strongly pathetic scenes; The English Traveller (1633) is only slightly inferior. Other plays of his are The Royall King (1600), The Captives (1624), and a series of clumsy historical dramas, including King Edward the Fourth (1600) and The Troubles of Queene Elizabeth (1605).

8. John Webster, who flourished during the first twenty years of the seventeenth century, excels his fellows as a tragical artist. Next to nothing is known regarding his life, and much of his work has been lost, but what remains is sufficient to show that he was a writer of no mean ability. Selecting themes of gloomy and supernatural horror, of great crimes and turbulent emotions and desires, he rises to the height of his argument with an ability equal to his ambition. In several respects—in bleak horror and in largeness of tragical conception—he resembles Marlowe; but he is terse and precise when Marlowe is simply turgid; his plots have the inexorable march of Fate itself; and he far excels Marlowe in brief and almost blinding flashes of sorrow and pity. His two great plays are The White Devil (1612) and The Duchess of Malfy (1623). Other and inferior plays ascribed to him are The Devil’s Law Case (1623) and Appius and Virginia.

9. Cyril Tourneur (1575–1626) seems to have been a soldier and to have served in the Low Countries. He took part in Buckingham’s disastrous expedition to Cadiz, and on his return died in Ireland.

In the work of Tourneur we have horrors piled on horrors. His two plays The Revenger’s Tragedy (1600) and The Atheist’s Tragedy (1611) are melodramatic to the highest degree. He attempts much, but achieves little. He does not lack a certain poetic sensibility; but he lacks grip, method, and balance, and he is weakest where Webster is strongest.

In the last chapter we indicated the growth of the Bible from the earliest to Reformation times. The task of translation was completed by the issue of King James’s Bible, or the Authorized Version (1611).

The need for a standard text was urged during the conference between the dissentient sects held at Hampton Court in 1604. James I, who was present at some stages of the conference, approved of the project. Forty-seven scholars, including the ablest professorial and episcopal talent, were appointed for the task; they were divided into six companies, each receiving a certain portion of the Biblical text for translation; each company revised the work of its fellow-translators. The task, begun in 1607, was completed in 1611. Since that date little of sufficient authority has been done to shake the Authorized Version’s dominating position as the greatest of English translations.

It may be of use here to set down some of the more obvious features of this great work.

1. With regard to the actual work of translation, it ought to be regarded simply as the climax of a long series of earlier translations. The new translators came to handle a large mass of work already in existence. All the debatable ground in the texts had been fought over again and again, and in a dim fashion a standard was emerging. The translators themselves acknowledge this in the preface to their work: their task, they say, is “to make a good one better, or out of many good ones one principal good one.” In other words, their task was largely one of selection and amendment. The reliance upon earlier work resulted in a certain old-fashioned flavor that was felt even in Jacobean times. “It is not the English,” says Hallam, “of Daniel or Ralegh or Bacon.... It abounds, especially in the Old Testament, in obsolete phraseology.” It is a tribute to the compelling power and beauty of the Authorized Version that its archaisms have long been accepted as permissible, and even inevitable. Allowing, however, for all the reliance upon earlier work, one cannot overpraise the sound judgment, the artistic taste, and the sensitive ear of every member of the band who built up such a stately monument to our tongue.

2. Diversity of the Work. One can best appreciate the vastness and complexity of the Bible by recollecting that it is not a single book, but an entire literature, or even two literatures, for both in time and temper the New Testament is separated from the Old. The different books of the Bible were composed at widely different times, and many hands worked at them. Their efforts resulted in a huge collection of all the main species of literature—expository, narrative, and lyrical. These will be noticed in their order below.

3. Unity of the Work. If the Bible were a collection of discordant elements it would not possess its peculiar literary attraction. In spite of the diversity of its sources it has a remarkable uniformity of treatment and spirit. The core and substance of the entire work is the belief and delight in the Divine Spirit; and, added to this, especially in the Old Testament, a fiery faith in the pre-eminence of the Jewish race. With regard to the literary style, from cover to cover it is almost unvaried: firm, clear, simple, dignified, and thoroughly English. It represents the broad and stable average of the labors of generations of devout and ardent men; and it endureth unshaken.

4. The Expository Portions. Considered from the purely literary point of view, the expository parts (that is, those that contain exhortation, information, or advice) are of least importance. In bulk they are considerable, and include the Book of Deuteronomy in the Old Testament and the Pauline Epistles in the New. They have all the distinction of the Biblical style, and they are expressed with clearness, dignity, and precision.

5. The narrative portions include the bulk of the Bible, and are of great literary interest and value. In the Old Testament they comprise the Pentateuch and many other books, and in the New Testament they include the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. The tone of the Old Testament differs somewhat from that of the New. As can be supposed, the former is often harsher in note, and is sometimes confused and contradictory (from the unsatisfactory condition of some of the texts); the New Testament narrative, which came under the influence of the Greek, is more scholarly and liberal in tone. Both, however, have a breadth, solidity, and noble austerity of style that make the Biblical narrative stand alone. It is perhaps unnecessary to quote, but one short specimen may not be out of place:

6. The Lyrical Portions. These (which include the Psalms, the Song of Solomon, much of the Book of Job, and the frequent passages, such as the song of Sisera, which occur in the narrative books) are perhaps the most important as literature. In addition to their native shrewdness and persistence, the Jews had a strongly emotional strain, which finds wide expression in the Bible. Their poetry, like that of the Old English, was rhythmic; it went by irregularly distributed beats or accents. The English translators to a large extent preserved the Jewish rhythms, adding to them the music, the cadence, the soar and the swing of ecstatic English prose. In theme Jewish poetry is the primitive expression of simple people regarding the relations of man and God and the universe. Its similes and metaphors are based upon simple elemental things—the heavens, the running water, and the congregations of wild beasts. The emotions are mystically and rapturously expressed, and convey the impression of much earnestness. The following extract is fairly typical of its kind:

7. The Influence of the Bible. The English Bible has been a potent influence in our literature. Owing largely to their poetical or proverbial nature, multitudes of Biblical expressions have become woven into the very tissue of the tongue: “a broken reed,” “the eleventh hour,” “a thorn in the flesh,” “a good Samaritan,” “sweat of the brow,” and so on. More important, probably, is the way in which the style affects that of many of our greatest writers. The influence is nearly all for the good; for a slight strain of the Biblical manner, when kept artistically within bounds, imparts simplicity, dignity, and elevation. Bunyan shows the style almost undiluted; but in the works of such widely diverse writers as Ruskin, Macaulay, Milton, and Tennyson the effects, though slighter, are quite apparent.

1. His Life. Bacon was born in London, the son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. The family was connected with the Cecils and other political magnates of the time. Bacon was a delicate youth, and for a time he was educated privately; then he proceeded to Cambridge, and thence entered Gray’s Inn (1576). To complete his education he spent three years in France. On his being called to the Bar his family influence helped him to acquire a fair practice; but Bacon was ambitious and longed for the highest rewards that his profession could bestow. He became a member of Parliament in 1584, but the recognition that he expected from the Queen did not come his way, hard though he fought for it. He assisted in the prosecution of the Earl of Essex, a nobleman who had befriended him earlier in his career. Essex, an injudicious man, had involved himself in a charge of treason, and the ingenuity of Bacon was largely instrumental in bringing him to the block. On the accession of James I Bacon, who was never remiss in urging his own claims to preferment, began to experience prosperity, for he was tireless in urging the royal claims before Parliament. He was made a knight in 1603, and Attorney-General in 1613. In the latter capacity he was James’s chief agent in asserting and enforcing the King’s theories of divine right, and he became thoroughly unpopular with the House of Commons. His reward came in 1618, when he was appointed Lord Chancellor and created Baron Verulam, and in 1621, when he became Viscount St. Albans. Popular dissatisfaction was mounting against the King and his agents, and when Parliament met in 1620 it laid charges of bribery and corrupt dealings against the Lord Chancellor. Bacon quailed before the storm; made what amounted to a confession of guilt; and was subjected to the huge fine of £40,000 (which was partially remitted), imprisonment during the King’s pleasure (which was restricted to four days in the Tower of London), and exile from Court and office. He spent the last five years of his life in the pursuit of literary and scientific works.

2. His Works. Bacon wrote both in Latin and English, and of the two he considered the Latin works to be the more important.

(a) His English works include his Essays, which first appeared in 1597. Then they numbered ten; but the second (1612) and third (1625) editions raised the number to thirty-eight and fifty-eight respectively. They are on familiar subjects, such as Learning, Studies, Vainglory, and Great Place; and in method they represent the half-casual meditations of a trained and learned mind. His other English works were The Advancement of Learning (1605), containing the substance of his philosophy; Apophthegms (1625), a kind of jest-book; and The New Atlantis, left unfinished at his death, a philosophical romance modeled upon More’s Utopia.

(b) His Latin works were to be fashioned into a vast scheme, which he called Instauratio Magna, expounding his philosophical theories. It was laid out on the following plan, but it was scarcely half finished:

3. His Style. Of Bacon as a philosopher we can only say that he is one of the founders of modern systematic thought. His most important literary work is his Essays. In its three versions this work shows the development of Bacon’s English style. In the first edition the style is crisp, detached, and epigrammatic, conveying the impression that each essay has arisen from some happy thought or phrase, around which other pithy statements are agglomerated. In the later editions the ideas are expanded, the expression loses its spiky pointedness, and in the end we have an approach to a freer middle style, an approximation to the swinging manner of Dryden. Bacon had no ear for rhythm and melody; a born rhetorician, he preferred the sharper devices of antithesis and epigram; and he was always clear, orderly, and swiftly precise in his phrasing. Following the fashion of the time, he was free in his use of allusions, conceits, and Latin tags, creating rather a garish ornamental effect; but his style is saved from triviality by his breadth of intellect, by his luminous intensity of ideas, and by his cool man-of-the-world sagacity.

For the sake of comparison we quote the same extract from the first and third editions of the Essays. The second extract, it will be noticed, is a studied expansion of the first.

1. Roger Ascham (1515–68) is representative of the earliest school of Elizabethan prose. He was born in Yorkshire, and educated privately and at St. John’s College, Cambridge, where he became a Fellow (1535) and a teacher of Greek (1540). He took part in the literary and religious disputes of the time, but managed to keep his feet on the shifting grounds of politics. He was appointed tutor to Elizabeth (1548) and secretary to Queen Mary; he visited the Continent as secretary to an embassy; and ultimately was appointed a canon of York Minster.

His two chief works were Toxophilus (1544), a treatise, in the form of a dialogue, on archery; and The Scholemaster (1570), an educational work containing some ideas that were then fairly fresh and enlightening. Ascham was a man of moderate literary talent, of great industry, and of boundless enthusiasm for learning. Though he is strongly influenced by classical models, he has all the strong Elizabethan sense of nationality. In Toxophilus he declares his intention of “writing this English matter in the English speech for Englishmen.” In style he is plain and strong, using only the more obvious graces of alliteration and antithesis.

2. John Lyly (1553–1606) marks another stage in the march of English prose. He was born in Kent, educated at Oxford, and, failing to obtain Court patronage, became a literary man in London. At first he had considerable success, and entered Parliament; but at a later stage his popularity declined, and he died poverty-stricken in London.

We have already mentioned his comedies (see p. 105), which at the time brought him fame and money. But his first prose work, Euphues, the Anatomy of Wit (1579), made him one of the foremost figures of the day. He repeated the success with a second part, Euphues and his England (1580). The work is a kind of travel-romance, recounting the adventures of Euphues, a young Athenian. The narrative is interspersed with numerous discussions upon many topics. It was, however, the style of its prose that gave the book its great vogue. It is the first consciously fabricated prose style in the language. It is mannered and affected almost to the point of being ridiculous. Its tricks are obvious and easily imitated, and they are freely applied by the next generation: balanced phrases, intricate alliteration, labored comparisons drawn from classical and other sources, and ornate epithets. The effect is quaint and not displeasing, but the narrative labors under the weight of it. It certainly suited the growing literary consciousness of its day, and hence its pronounced, though temporary, success.

The following extract will illustrate the euphuistic manner:

3. Richard Hooker (1553–1600) was born near Exeter, and educated at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, where he was elected a Fellow (1577). In 1582 he took orders, and later was appointed to a living in Kent, where he died.

His great work, at which he labored during the greater part of his life, was The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity. The first four of the proposed eight books were issued in 1593; he finished one more; and though the remaining three were published under his name when he was dead, it is very doubtful if he was entirely responsible for them. In the work he supports Episcopacy against Presbyterianism. In style he is strongly affected by classical writers; but he usually writes with homeliness and point; his sentences are carefully constructed; the rhythm moves easily; and there is both precision and melody in his choice of vocabulary. His style is an early example of scholarly and accomplished English prose.

4. Sir Thomas Overbury (1581–1613) may be taken as typical of a fairly large class of Elizabethan writers. He was born in Warwickshire, educated at Oxford, and became a figure at the Court of King James. His chief friend at Court was James’s favorite Robert Carr, with whom he quarreled over a love-affair. For this Overbury fell into disfavor, and was imprisoned in the Tower, where he was poisoned under mysterious and barbarous circumstances.

Overbury survives in literature as the author of a series of Characters (1614). Based on the ancient Greek work of Theophrastus, the book consists of a number of concise character-sketches of well-known types, such as a Milkmaid, a Pedant, a Franklin, and “an Affectate Traveller.” The sketches are solely of types, not of individuals, and so lack any great literary merit. But they are important for several reasons: they are a curious development of the pamphlet, which was so common at that time; they are another phase of the “humours” craze, seen so strongly in the Jonsonian and other dramas; and they are an important element in the growth of the essay. In style the book is strongly euphuistic, thus illustrating another tendency of the time. They were added to and imitated by other writers, including John Earle (1601–65).

5. Robert Burton (1577–1640) was the son of a country gentleman, and was born in Leicestershire. He was educated at Oxford, where, in holy orders, he passed most of his life.

His famous work, The Anatomy of Melancholy, was first issued in 1621, and then constantly revised and reissued. It is an elaborate and discursive study of melancholy, its species and kinds, its causes, results, and cure. The book—labored, saturnine, and fantastic to an extraordinary degree—has exercised a strong fascination over many scholarly minds, including those of Dr. Johnson and Charles Lamb. Its learning is immense and unconventional, being drawn from many rare authors; its humor curiously crabbed, subdued, and ironical; and its “melancholy,” though pervading, is not oppressive. The diction, harsh and unstudied, is rarely obscure; the enormous sentences, packed with quotation and allusion, are loosely knit. Both as a stylist and as a personality Burton occupies his own niche in English literature.

6. The Sermon-writers. At the beginning of the seventeenth century the sermon rose to a level of literary importance not hitherto attained, and afterward rarely equaled. We have already mentioned Donne (see p. 102), probably the most notable of his group, and we give space to two other writers.

(a) James Ussher (1581–1656) was born in Dublin, and was descended from an ancient Protestant family. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin, and rose to be Bishop of Meath and Archbishop of Armagh (1626). In 1640 he visited England, where, owing to the disturbed state of Ireland, he had to remain for the remainder of his life. His many sermons, discourses, and tracts show learning, adroit argument, and a plain and easy style. His Chronologia Sacra was for a long time the standard work on Biblical chronology.

(b) Joseph Hall (1574–1656) was educated at Cambridge, took orders, and became a prominent opponent of the Puritans, among whom was Milton. He was appointed Bishop of Exeter (1627) and of Norwich (1641). When the Puritans rose to power Hall’s opinions brought him into disgrace. He was imprisoned, and, though liberated, forbidden to preach. He died in retirement.

Hall’s earliest work was in verse, and consisted of a series of satires called Virgidemiarum (1597), which were condemned by the Church as being licentious. His theological and devotional works, the product of his later years, are very numerous, and include tracts, sermons, and treatises. Though he is often shallow and voluble, he writes with literary grace. He is without doubt the most literary of the theologians of the time.

7. The Translators. The zeal for learning which was such a prominent feature of the early Elizabethan times was strongly apparent in the frequent translations. This class of literature had several curious characteristics. The translators cared little for verbal accuracy, and sometimes were content to translate from a translation, say from a French version of a Latin text. The translators, moreover, borrowed from each other, and repeated the errors of their fellows. These habits deprived their work of any great pretensions to scholarship; but they were eager adventurers into the new realms of learning, and to a great extent they reproduced the spirit, if not the letter, of their originals.

One of the first and most popular of the translations was North’s Diall of Princes (1557), from an Italian original. North also translated Plutarch’s Lives (1579), a work that had much influence upon Shakespeare and other dramatists. Other classical translations were those of Virgil, done by Phaer in 1558 and Stanyhurst in 1583, and of Ovid, by Turberville in 1567 and by Chapman in 1595. Chapman’s Translation of Homer (1596) is perhaps the most famous of them all. It is composed in long, swinging lines, and is lively, audacious, and pleasing.

8. The Pamphleteers. All through this period there is a flood of short tracts on religion, politics, and literature. It was the work of a host of literary hacks who earned a precarious existence in London. These men represented a new class of writer. The Reformation had closed the Church to them; the growth of the universities and of learning continually increased their numbers. In later times journalism and its kindred careers supplied them with a livelihood; but at this time they eked out their existence by writing plays and squabbling among themselves in the pages of broadsheets.

In its buoyancy and vigor, its quaint mixture of truculence and petulance, Elizabethan pamphleteering is refreshingly boyish and alive. It is usually keenly satirical, and in style it is unformed and uncouth. The most notorious of the pamphleteers were Thomas Nash (1567–1601), Robert Greene (1560–92), and Thomas Lodge (1558–1625). We quote a well-known passage from a pamphlet of Greene, in which he contrives to mingle praise of his friends with sly gibes at one who is probably Shakespeare. The style is typical of the pamphlets.

At the beginning of the Elizabethan age English literary forms were still to a large extent in the making; at the end of the period there is a rich and varied store of most of the chief literary species. All that can be done here is to give the barest outline of this development.

1. Poetry. (a) Lyrical Poetry. The temper of the age was suited to the lyrical mood, and so the abundance of the lyric is very great. It begins with the first efforts of Wyat and Surrey (1557); it continues through the dramas in all their stages; and it appears in the numerous miscellanies of the period. Then the lyrical impulse is carried on without a break into the melodies of Campion and the darker moods of Donne. The forms of the lyric are many, and on the whole its notes are musical, wild, and natural.

An interesting sub-species of the lyric is the sonnet. We have seen how it took two forms—the Italian or Petrarchan form, and the English or Shakespearian type. During this period both kinds flourished, the English kind to a greater degree. Wyat began (1557) with a group of the Italian type; Surrey introduced the English form. Then the sonnet, in one or other of its two forms, was continued by Sidney in Astrophel and Stella (published in 1591), by Spenser, by Shakespeare, by Daniel in Delia (1592), and by Watson in Heoatompathia, or Passionate Century of Sonnets (1582). Later in the period the sonnet was less popular, though Drayton wrote at least one of great power.

(b) Descriptive and Narrative Poetry. This is a convenient title for a large and important class of poems. In this period it begins with such works as Sackville’s Induction (1555), and continues with Marlowe’s Hero and Leander (1598) and Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis (1593) and The Rape of Lucrece (1594). It culminates in the sumptuous allegorical poetry of Spenser; and it begins its decline with the Spenserians of the type of the Fletchers and with Drayton’s Endimion and Phœbe (1600). The pastoral, which is a kind of descriptive poem, is seen in Spenser’s Shepherd’s Calendar (1579), in Browne’s Britannia’s Pastorals (1613), and in Drayton. Almost purely descriptive poetry is represented in Drayton’s Polyolbion (1612); and a more strongly narrative type is the same poet’s England’s Heroical Epistles (1597). All these poems are distinguished by strong descriptive power, freshness of fancy, and sometimes by positive genius of style.

(c) Religious, satirical, and didactic poetry cannot take a position equal in importance to the rest. During the period the satirical intent is quite strong, but it does not produce great poetry. Gascoigne’s Steel Glass (1576) is one of the earliest satires; and it is followed by Donne’s Satires (1593) and Hall’s Satires (1597). Drayton’s Harmony of the Church (1591) is religious in motive; so are several poems of Donne, and also many of those of the Jesuit Robert Southwell (1561–95).

2. Drama. The opening of the Elizabethan period saw the drama struggling into maturity. The early type of the time was scholarly in tone and aristocratic in authorship. An example of the earliest type of playwright is Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke (1554–1628), who distinguished himself both as a dramatic and lyrical poet.

To this stage succeeded that of Shakespeare, which covered approximately the years 1595 to 1615. Of this drama all we can say here is that it is the crown and flower of the Elizabethan literary achievement, and embodies almost the entire spirit both of drama and poetry.

The decline begins with Jonson, and continues with Beaumont and Fletcher, Dekker, Heywood, and the other dramatists mentioned in this chapter. The decline is made clear in several ways: in the narrowing of the ample Shakespearian motive, which comprises all mankind, into themes of temporary, local, and fragmentary importance; in the lack of creative power in the characterization, resulting (as in Jonson) in mere types or “humors,” or (as in Dekker and Fletcher) in superficial improvisation, or in ponderous tragical figures (as in Webster and Tourneur); and lastly, in the degradation of the style, which will be noted below. Sometimes the decline is gilded with delicate fancy, as in Fletcher’s Faithful Shepherdess, or in the exquisite Parliament of Bees (1607) by John Day (1574–1640); but the grace and charm of such plays cannot conceal the falling-off in power and imagination.

With regard to the development of the different dramatic types, we have already noted that tragedy developed first; in Shakespeare all kinds received attention, tragedy most of all. In post-Shakespearian drama light comedy was the most popular species, chiefly because the tragic note of exalted pity had degenerated into melodrama and horrors.

A special word is perhaps necessary on the masque, which during this time had a brief but brilliant career. The masque is a short dramatic performance composed for some particular festive occasion, such as the marriage or majority of a great man’s son; it is distinguished by ornate stage-setting, by lyrics, music, and dancing, and by allegorical characters. It finds a place in Shakespeare’s Tempest and other plays; it is strongly developed in the works of Jonson, Fletcher, and other poets of the time; and it attains its climax during the next age in the Comus (1637) of Milton.

3. Prose. In Elizabethan times the development of prose was slower and slighter than that of poetry.

(a) The essay, beginning in the pamphlet, character-sketch, and other miscellaneous writing, develops in the work of Bacon. Its rise will be sketched more fully in a future chapter (see p. 268).

(b) The novel has some meager but significant beginnings in More’s Utopia (1516), Sidney’s Arcadia (published in 1590), Lyly’s Euphues (1579), Bacon’s New Atlantis (1626), and most of all in Nash’s The Unfortunate Traveller (1594). The rise of the novel is also reserved for a later chapter (see p. 336).

(c) Miscellaneous prose, in the pamphlets, theological works, sermons, translations, travels, and such abnormalities as Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy (1621), is exceedingly voluminous and important. We have here a large, loose, and varied mass of English prose, the central exercising-ground of the average prose-writer, that is to be the foundation of many important groups of the future.

1. Poetry. The period immediately preceding was that of the clumsy poetry of Hawes, Skelton, and their kind; succeeding it is the strength and beauty of Elizabethan poetry. Between these two extremes the different stages of development are fairly well marked.

(a) The earliest period (say from 1550–80) is that of Wyat, Surrey, Sidney, and the University Wits. This is the formative and imitative period, during which the dependence upon classical originals is particularly strong. The style has the precision and the erratic character of the diligent pupil. There are few deliberate innovations, and lapses into barbarism are not unknown. In this period appear the sonnet, blank verse, and many of the beautiful lyrical metrical forms. The lyrical style is least restrained by the influence of classical models.

(b) The Spenserian and Shakespearian stage (from about 1580 to 1615) is the stage of highest development. The native English genius, having absorbed the lessons of foreign writers, adds to them the youth and ardor of its own spirit. The result is a fullness, freshness, and grandeur of style unequaled in any other period of our literature. There are the lyrics and allegories of Spenser; the poems, dramas, and lyrics of Shakespeare; and the innumerable miscellanies, poems, and plays of other writers. The style is as varied as the poems; but the universal note is the romantic one of power and ease.

(c) In the second decade of the seventeenth century the decline is apparent. The inspired phraseology, the wealth and flexibility of vocabulary, and the general bloom of the style pass into the lightness of fancy and the tinkling unsubstantial verse of the nature of Campion’s. Or the high seriousness degenerates into the gloomy manner of the Websterian tragedy. The handling of blank verse is typical of the movement. The sinewy Shakesperian blank verse becomes nerveless; in drama prose is commoner in quantity and coarser in fiber. In the lyric much of the old technical dexterity survives, but the deeper qualities of passion and sincerity are less common and robust.

2. Prose. Unlike that of poetry, the style of prose enjoys a steady development, continued from the previous age, and maintained through the Elizabethan age. Euphuism, which appeared early in this epoch, was a kind of literary measles incidental to early growth, and it quickly passed away, leaving the general body of English prose healthier than before. There is an increase in the raw material of prose in the shape of many foreign words that are imported; there is a growing expertness in sentence-and paragraph-construction and in the more delicate graces of style, such as rhythm and melody. The prose of Hooker and Bacon (in his later stages) represents the furthest development of the time. Prose style has yet a great deal to learn, but it is learning fast.

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

1. The following extracts illustrate the growth of the English lyric from earliest times. Arrange the passages approximately in order of development, adding dates when it seems possible. Write a note on the style of each, and point out in what respects it is typical of its author or period.

2. In the following passages, which illustrate the development of blank verse, examine the metrical features (such as the scansion, variation of the pause, and the melody) of each, and mention if any improvement is apparent.

3. Comment upon the style, meter, and general level of excellence shown in the following sonnets. Point out any development that is observable.

4. Hooker’s is sometimes considered to be the most highly developed of Elizabethan prose styles. In the following two extracts examine the vocabulary, sentence-construction, and general competence of the first, and compare it with the second, which was written about two hundred years earlier.

6. What features of Shakespeare’s life and literary work does Arnold refer to in the following sonnet? How far do his statements appear to you inaccurate or exaggerated?

7. Compare very carefully the two given extracts from Shakespeare’s plays. Observe the handling of each: the simplicity or ornateness of diction, the power of expression, and the strength and flexibility of the blank verse. On these grounds, which would you say was taken from an early and which from a later?

8. Explain and discuss the following statements concerning Shakespeare. Whenever you can, illustrate with examples from the plays.

9. What were the signs of the “dramatic decline” that set in after Shakespeare? Mention some dramatists whose plays show this decline.

10. Try to account for the weakness of English prose when compared with the poetry of the time.

11. In what respects is the title “Elizabethan literature” open to objection when it is applied to the matter of this chapter? Suggest other titles.

12. To what extent were the University Wits immature dramatists? What was their contribution to the English drama?

13. “The age of Elizabeth made the most of both native and classical elements.” Discuss this statement.

14. It is frequently stated that during the second half of the Elizabethan period drama weakened and prose strengthened. Confirm or confute the statement.

15. How was this time “the Golden Age of the lyric”?

CHAPTER VI THE AGE OF MILTON — TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1630–60) — LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE — JOHN MILTON (1608–74) — OTHER POETS — DRAMA — SIR THOMAS BROWNE (1605–82) — OTHER PROSE-WRITERS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

The thick line indicates approximately the period of active literary production.

The entire period covered by this chapter is dominated by the Civil War. The earlier years are marked by the quarrels and alarms which led up to actual hostilities in 1642; the middle of the period is occupied with the spasmodic fighting that lasted till the execution of Charles I in 1649; and the last portion covers the establishment of the Commonwealth, the rise and disappearance of Cromwell (1654–58), the confusion following upon his death, and the final restoration of the monarchy in 1660.

1. The Reaction. During this period the decline from the high Elizabethan standard is apparent in several ways. (a) The output, especially of poetry, is much smaller, and the fashion is toward shorter poems, especially the lyric of a peculiar type. (b) There is a marked decay in the exalted poetical fervor of the previous age. In the new poetry there is more of the intellectual play of fancy than of passion and profundity. And, especially in prose, there is a matured melancholy that one is apt to associate with advancing years. (c) In prose there is a marked increase in activity, which is an almost invariable accompaniment of a decline in poetry.

2. The Pressure of Historical Events. Viewed from a broad aspect, the Civil War was only a domestic incident in English history; but the very narrowness of the issue intensified the bitterness of the contest. It divided the people into two factions, and among other things vitally affected the literature of the time. Poetry was benumbed and lifeless, and prose assumed a fierce and disputatious character.

3. The Dominance of Milton. The age is distinguished by the efforts of Milton to keep literature alive. Upon his “Atlantean shoulders” he bears its reputation. Other poets were scrappy and uneven, like the “Metaphysicals”; or flat and uninspired, like Cowley; or shallow and trivial, like Denham. In Milton alone, and even in the prose of Milton to a considerable extent, we find satisfying quantity and quality.

4. The Metaphysical Poets. This term was first used by Johnson, who applied it to Donne and Cowley. It was applied to a kind of poetry, usually lyrical poetry, that often startled the reader by the sudden leaps of its fancy into remoteness and (in exaggerated instances) absurdity. The fashion was popular just before the Civil War broke out, and it can be seen in the works of Herrick, Crashaw, Herbert, Vaughan, and others. More detailed examination of this curious poetical mode will be found in the notices of these poets.

5. The Cavalier Poets. This name is often loosely applied to the Metaphysical poets; but the latter were usually of a religious and mystical cast, whereas the Cavalier poets were military and swashbuckling in disposition. They were well represented by Lovelace and Suckling.

6. The Expansion of Prose. The development of prose is carried on from the previous age. In spite of the hampering effects of the civil strife, the prose output was copious and excellent in kind. There was a notable advance in the sermon; pamphlets were abundant; and history, politics, philosophy, and miscellaneous kinds were well represented. In addition, there was a remarkable advance in prose style.

7. The Collapse of the Drama. Many things combined to oppress the drama at this time. Chief among these were the civil disturbances and the strong opposition of the Puritans. In temper the age was not dramatic. It is curious to note that Milton’s greatest work, which in the Elizabethan age would probably have been dramatic in form, took on the shape of the epic. The actual dramatic work of the period was small and unimportant; and the unequal struggle was terminated by the closing of the theaters in 1642.

1. His Life. Milton was born in Bread Street, Cheapside, London. His father was a money-scrivener, an occupation that combined the duties of the modern banker and lawyer. Milton was educated at St. Paul’s School, London, and at Cambridge. At the university his stubborn and irascible nature declared itself, and owing to insubordination he was “sent down” for a term. On taking his final degree (1632) he abandoned his intention of entering the Church and retired to Horton, a small village in Buckinghamshire, some seventeen miles from London, whither his father had withdrawn from business.

Milton’s next few years were those of a sequestered man of letters. Poetry, mathematics, and music were his main studies. In 1638 he left for a tour on the Continent, staying some months in Italy, where he met many scholars and literary men. He was recalled to England by the news that civil war was imminent. He settled down in London and set up a small private school, and when hostilities broke out a year or two later he took no part in the fighting. His pen, however, was active in support of the Parliamentary cause, to which he was passionately attached.

In 1643 he married a woman much younger than himself, and almost immediately his wife left him, and did not return for two years. This unfortunate circumstance led Milton to write two strong pamphlets on divorce, which caused a great scandal at the time. Then in 1649, after the execution of the King, he was appointed by the Commonwealth Government Secretary for Foreign Tongues. In this capacity he became secretary to the Council of State, and drafted Latin documents for transmission to foreign Powers. In addition, he wrote numerous pamphlets in support of the republican cause. By this time his eyesight was failing; and when the Restoration came in 1660 to ruin his hopes, it found him blind, poor, and alone. He escaped, however, from the severe punishments that were inflicted upon many prominent Roundheads. He was slightly punished by a nominal imprisonment; retired to an obscure village in Buckinghamshire to write poetry; and died in London, where he was buried.

2. His Prose. Most of Milton’s prose was written during the middle period of his life (1640–60), when he was busy with public affairs. The prose works have an unusual interest, because as a rule they have a direct bearing on either his personal business or public interests. In all they amount to twenty-five pamphlets, of which twenty-one are in English and the remaining four in Latin.

He began pamphleteering quite early (1641), when he engaged in a lively controversy with Bishop Hall over episcopacy. Then, while teaching, he wrote a rather poor tract, Of Education (1644). When his wife deserted him he composed two pamphlets on divorce (1643–4), which scandalized the public by the freedom of their opinions and the slashing nature of their style. The critics of the pamphlets sought to confound Milton on a technical matter by pointing out that he had not licensed the books, as required by law. To this Milton retorted with the greatest of all his tracts, Areopagitica (1644), a noble and impassioned plea for the liberty of the Press. Later works include a defense (in Latin) of the execution of Charles I and of other actions of the Commonwealth Government. During the last years of his life Milton partly completed a History of Britain and other scholastic works.

When we consider the style of Milton’s prose we must keep in mind how it was occasioned. His pamphlets were cast off at white heat and precipitated into print while some topic was in urgent debate either in Milton’s or the public mind. Hence in method they are tempestuous and disordered; voluble, violent, and lax in style. They reveal intense zeal and pugnacity, a mind at once spacious in ideals and intolerant in application, a rich fancy, and a capacious scholarship. They lack humor, proportion, and restraint; but in spite of these defects they are among the greatest controversial compositions in the language. A short extract will illustrate some of the Miltonic features:

3. His Poetry. The great bulk of Milton’s poetry was written during two periods separated from each other by twenty years: (a) the period of his university career and his stay at Horton, from 1629 to 1640; and (b) the last years of his life, from about 1660 to 1674. The years between were filled by a few sonnets.

(a) While still an undergraduate Milton began to compose poems of remarkable maturity and promise. They include the fine and stately Ode on the Morning of Christ’s Nativity (1629), and the poems On Shakespeare (1630) and On Arriving at the Age of Twenty-three (1631). These poems show Milton’s command of impressive diction and his high ideals, both literary and religious. While at Horton (1634) he composed L’Allegro and Il Penseroso, two longish poems in octosyllabic couplets dealing with the respective experiences of the gay and thoughtful man. The pieces are decorative rather than descriptive, artificial rather than natural, but they are full of scholarly fancy and adroit poetical phrasing. Comus (1637) belongs to this period, and is a masque containing some stiff but beautiful blank verse and some quite charming lyrical measures. Lycidas (1637) is an elegy on his friend Edward King, who was drowned on a voyage to Ireland.

Lycidas, which is to be reckoned as among the highest of Milton’s achievements, is something quite new in English poetry. In form it is pastoral, but this artificial medium serves only to show the power of Milton’s grip, which can wring from intractable material the very essence of poetry. The elegy has the color and music of the best Spenserian verse; but it has a climbing majesty of epithet and a dignified intensity of passion that Spenser does not possess. Its meter is an irregular stanza-sequence and rhyme-sequence of a peculiar haunting beauty.

(b) This period (1660–74) gives us the poetry of the matured Milton. The work of the middle years is composed of a few sonnets. These, with some others written at different times, sufficiently show Milton’s command of the Italian form, which he uses throughout. He gives it a sweep and sonorous impressiveness that set him alone beside Wordsworth, who in this respect is his poetical successor. The best of Milton’s sonnets are On his Blindness and On the Late Massacre in Piedmont.

The great work of this time is Paradise Lost. It was begun as early as 1658, and issued in 1667. At first it was divided into ten books or parts, but in the second edition it was redivided into twelve. In form it follows the strict unity of the classical epic; in theme it deals with the fall of man; but by means of introduced narratives it covers the rebellion of Lucifer in heaven, the celestial warfare, and the expulsion of the rebels. In conception the poem is spacious and commanding; it is sumptuously adorned with all the detail that Milton’s rich imagination, fed with classical and Biblical lore, can suggest; the characters, especially that of Lucifer, are drawn on a gigantic scale, and do not lack a certain tragic immensity; and the blank verse in which the work is composed is new and wonderful. This type of blank verse has founded a tradition in English; it has often been imitated and modified, but never paralleled. It lacks the suppleness of the Shakespearian measure; but it is instinct with beauty and scholarly care. It is almost infinite in modulation; varied cunningly in scansion, in pause, in cadence, and in sonorous dignity of music. It has its lapses into wordiness and bombast, but the lapses are few indeed.

In the following extract the construction of the blank verse should be carefully observed. The variation of foot, pause, and melody is worthy of the closest study.

In 1671 Milton issued his last volume of poetry, which contained Paradise Regained and Samson Agonistes. The former poem, which tells of Christ’s temptation and victory, is complementary to the earlier epic, and Milton hoped that it would surpass its predecessor. In this his hopes were dashed. It is briefer and poorer than Paradise Lost; it lacks the exalted imagination, the adornment, and the ornate rhythms of the earlier poem. There is little action, the characters are uninteresting, and the work approaches Paradise Lost only in a few outstanding passages.

Samson Agonistes, which tells of Samson’s death while a prisoner of the Philistines, has a curious interest, for in the Biblical hero Milton saw more than one resemblance to himself. In form the work has the strict unity of time, place, and action universal in Greek tragedy. In style it is bleak and bare, in places harsh and forbidding; but in several places Milton’s stubborn soul is wrung with pity and exalted by the hope that looks beyond. The speech of Samson’s father over his dead son is no inappropriate epitaph for Milton himself:

4. Features of his Poetry. (a) The Puritan Strain. All through his life Milton’s religious fervor was unshaken. Even his enemies did not deny his sincerity. It is seen even in one of his earliest sonnets:

It persists even to the end, when it runs deeper and darker. In Paradise Lost, for example, his chief motive is to “justify the ways of God to men.”

This religious tendency is apparent in (1) the choice of religious subjects, especially in the later poems; (2) the sense of responsibility and moral exaltation; (3) the fondness for preaching and lecturing, which in Paradise Lost is a positive weakness; (4) the narrowness of outlook, strongly Puritanical, seen in his outbursts against his opponents (as in Lycidas), in his belief regarding the inferiority of women, and in his scorn for the “miscellaneous rabble.”

(b) The Classical Strain. Curiously interwoven with the severity of his religious nature is a strong bent for the classics, which is pagan and sensuous. His learning was wide and matured; he wrote Latin prose and verse as freely as he wrote English. His classical bent is apparent in (1) his choice of classical and semi-classical forms—the epic, the Greek tragedy, the pastoral, and the sonnet; (2) the elaborate descriptions and enormous similes in Paradise Lost; (3) the fondness for classical allusion, which runs riot through all his poetry; (4) the dignity of his style, and its precision and care. His very egoism takes a high classical turn. In his blindness he compares himself with

In his choice of diction we have the classical element abundantly apparent; and, lastly, the same element appears in the typical Miltonic grandeur and frigidity, the arrogant aloofness from men and mortals.

(c) His Poetical Genius. As a poet Milton is not a great innovator; his function is rather to refine and make perfect. Every form he touches acquires a finality of grace and dignity. The epic, the ode, the classical drama, the sonnet, the masque, and the elegy—his achievements in these have never been bettered and seldom approached. As a metrist he stands almost alone. In all his meters we observe the same ease, sureness, and success.

(d) His Position in Literature. In literature Milton occupies an important central or transitional position. He came immediately after the Elizabethan epoch, when the Elizabethan methods were crumbling into chaos. His hand and temper were firm enough to gather into one system the wavering tendencies of poetry, and to give them sureness, accuracy, and variety. The next generation, lacking the inspiration of the Elizabethans, found in him the necessary stimulus to order and accuracy; and from him, to a great extent, sprang the new “classicism” that was to be the rule for more than a century.

1. Abraham Cowley (1618–67) was born in London, the son of a wealthy citizen. He was educated at Westminster School and at Cambridge, where he distinguished himself as a classical scholar. In the Civil War he warmly supported the King; followed the royal family into exile, where he performed valuable services; returned to England at the Restoration; and for the remainder of his life composed books in retirement.

Cowley, even more than Pope and Macaulay, is the great example of the infant prodigy. When he was ten he wrote a long epical romance, Piramus and Thisbe (1628), and two years later produced an even longer poem called Constantia and Philetus (1630). All through his life he was active in the production of many kinds of work—poems, plays, essays, and histories. His best-known poem was The Davideis (1637), a rather dreary epic on King David, in heroic couplets. Other poems were The Mistress (1647), a collection of love-poems, and the Pindarique Odes, which are a curious hybrid between the early freedom of the Elizabethans and the classicism of the later generation. His prose works included his Essays and Discourse concerning Oliver Cromwell (1661).

Both in prose and poetry Cowley was a man of various methods, showing the wavering moods of the transitional poet. His heroic couplets and irregular odes foreshadow the vogue of the approaching “correctness”; his essays, in their pleasant egoism and miscellaneous subject-matter, suggest Addison; and his prose style, plain and not inelegant, draws near to the mode of Dryden. His variety pleased many tastes; hence the popularity that was showered upon him during his day. But he excelled in no particular method; and hence the partial oblivion that has followed.

2. The Metaphysical Poets. The works of this group of poets have several features in common: (i) the poetry is to a great extent lyrical; (ii) in subject it is chiefly religious or amatory; (iii) there is much metrical facility, even in complicated lyrical stanzas; (iv) the poetic style is sometimes almost startling in its sudden beauty of phrase and melody of diction, but there are unexpected turns of language and figures of speech (hence the name of the group).

(a) Robert Herrick (1591–1674) was born in London, and educated at Westminster School and at Cambridge, where he lived for fourteen years. He was appointed to a living in Devonshire, where he died.

His two volumes of poems are Noble Numbers (1647) and Hesperides (1648). Both are collections of short poems, sacred and profane. In them he reveals lyrical power of a high order; fresh, passionate, and felicitously exact, but at the same time meditative and observant. Herrick was strongly influenced by Jonson and the classics; he delighted in the good things of this world; but that did not prevent his having a keen enjoyment of nature and a fresh outlook upon life. Among the best known of his shorter pieces are To Anthea, To Julia, and Cherry Ripe.

(b) George Herbert (1593–1633) was born at Montgomery Castle, educated at Westminster School and at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he was appointed Fellow and reader, took holy orders, and was given in turn livings near Huntingdon and at Bemerton, near Salisbury.

None of his poems was published during his lifetime. On his death-bed he gave to a friend the manuscript of The Temple, a collection of religious poems in various meters. The poems, of a high quality, are inspired with a devout piety which is often fantastically expressed and quaintly figured. His poetry is not so “metaphysical” as that of some others of his group; but neither does it rise to the great heights that they sometimes achieve.

(c) Richard Crashaw (1613–50), the son of a clergyman, was born in London, and educated at the Charterhouse and at Cambridge. During the Civil War, in which he was a strong Royalist, he was compelled to escape to France, where he became a Roman Catholic. At a later stage he went to Rome and to Loretto. At the latter place he died and was buried.

Crashaw represents the best and the worst of the Metaphysical poets. At his best he has an energy and triumphant rapture that, outside the poems of Shelley, are rarely equaled in English; at his worst he is shrill, frothy, and conceited. His style at its best is harmonious, precise, and nobly elevated; at its worst it is disfigured by obscurity, perversity, and unseemly images. His chief work is Steps to the Temple (1646).

We quote an extract to show the exalted mood to which his poetry can ascend:

(d) Henry Vaughan (1622–95) was born in Wales, and was descended from an ancient family. He went to London to study law, then turned to medicine, and practiced at Brecon. His books include Poems (1646), Olor Iscanus (1647), Silex Scintillans (1650), and Thalia Rediviva (1678).

Vaughan’s love-poems, though they are often prettily and sometimes beautifully phrased, are inferior to his religious pieces, especially those in Silex Scintillans. His religious fervor is nobly imaginative, and strikes out lines and ideas of astonishing strength and beauty. His regard for nature, moreover, has a closeness and penetration that sometimes (for example, in The Retreat) suggests Wordsworth.

(e) Thomas Carew (1595–1645) was born in Kent, educated at Oxford, and studied law in the Middle Temple. He attained to some success as a courtier, but later died in obscurity. The date of his death is uncertain, but it was probably 1645.

His Poems (1640) show his undoubted lyrical ability. The pieces are influenced by Donne and Jonson, but they have a character of their own. The fancy is warmly colored, though it is marred by license and bad taste. We quote a lyric which can be taken as representative of the best of its kind. Its fancy is too rich and beautiful to be called fantastic, and its golden felicity of diction is rarely equaled.

3. The Cavalier poets are lyrical poets, and deal chiefly with love and war.

(a) Richard Lovelace (1618–58) was born at Woolwich, was educated at the Charterhouse and at Oxford, and became an officer in the King’s household. When the Civil War broke out he was imprisoned by the Roundheads; and, being liberated on parole, could do little actively to assist Charles. At a later stage he saw some soldiering in France, returned to England, and died in obscure circumstances.

His volume Lucasta (1649) contains the best of his shorter pieces, which had appeared at different times previously. He is essentially the poet of attractive scraps and fancies, elegantly and wittily expressed. Some of his lyrics, such as To Althea, from Prison and To Lucasta, Going to the Wars, have retained their popularity.

(b) Sir John Suckling (1609–42) was born in Middlesex, and at the age of eighteen fell heir to a large fortune. He was educated at Oxford, traveled on the Continent, served as a volunteer under Gustavus Adolphus, and became a favorite of Charles I. He was implicated in Royalist plots, and escaped abroad (1640), where he died under conditions that are somewhat mysterious.

To some extent (for he seems to have lacked physical courage) Suckling was the cavalier of the romances and the Restoration plays—gay, generous, and witty. His poems largely reflect these characteristics. As a poet he has great ability, but he is usually the elegant amateur, disdaining serious and sustained labor. Some of his poems, such as the Ballad upon a Wedding (see p. 186), and “Why so pale and wan, fond lover?” show the tricksy elegance that is his chief attraction.

1. Philip Massinger (1583–1640) was born at Salisbury, educated at Oxford, and became a literary man in London, writing plays for the King’s Men, a company of actors. If we may judge from his begging letters that survive, he found in dramatic work little financial encouragement. He died and was buried in London.

Massinger did much hack-work, and was fond of working out topical and moral themes; so that a large amount of his work is of little permanent importance. The best of his many plays are A New Way to Pay Old Debts (1625) and The City Madam (1632), two quite fine comedies; and The Duke of Milan (1618) and The Unnatural Combat (1619), quite respectable tragedies. The level of Massinger’s workmanship is laudably high; he is remarkably uniform in quality; and in a few cases (as in that of Sir Giles Overreach in A New Way to Pay Old Debts) he has created characters of real distinction. He followed the fashion of the time in collaborating with other dramatists. The Virgin Martyr, produced jointly with Dekker, is perhaps the most important of this class of play.

2. John Ford (1586–1640) was born in Devonshire, educated at Oxford, and studied, though he seems never to have practiced, law. He became an active producer of plays, chiefly tragedies, both on his own account and in collaboration with other playwrights.

In his nature Ford had a morbid twist which gave him a strange liking for the horrible and the unnatural. His plays are unequal in quality; but the most powerful of them are prevented from being revolting by their real tragic force and their high literary aims. In The Broken Heart (acted in 1629) he harrows the reader’s feelings almost beyond endurance; his Perkin Warbeck (1634), a historical tragedy, is reckoned to be the best historical drama outside of Shakespeare; and in The Witch of Edmonton (about 1633) he collaborated with Dekker and Rowley to produce a powerful domestic drama. Others of the sixteen plays attributed to him are The Lover’s Melancholy (1629), Love’s Sacrifice (1633), and The Fancies Chaste and Noble (1638).

Browne may be taken as representative of the best prose-writers of the period.

1. His Life. He was born in London, educated at Winchester and Oxford, and studied medicine. For a time he practiced in Oxfordshire; then he traveled abroad, receiving his degree of M.D. at Leyden. Returning to London (1634), he soon removed to Norwich, where for the remainder of his life he successfully practiced as a doctor.

2. His Works. Almost alone among his contemporaries, Browne seems to have been unaffected by the commotions of the time. His prose works, produced during some of the hottest years of civil contention, are tranquilly oblivious of unrest. His books are only five in number, are individually small in size, and are of great and almost uniform merit. Religio Medici (1642), his confession of faith, is a curious mixture of credulity and skepticism; Pseudodoxia Epidemica, or Vulgar Errors (1646), shared the same mental inconsistency, resembles the work of Burton in its out-of-the-way learning; Hydriotaphia or Erne Buriall (1658), commonly considered to be his masterpiece, contains reflections on human mortality induced by the discovery of some ancient funeral urns; The Garden of Cyrus (1658) is a treatise on the quincunx. The last work, Christian Morals, was published after his death.

3. His Style. As a philosopher Browne is either obscure and confusing, as in Religio Medici, or unoriginal and obvious, as in Hydriotaphia. His learning, though it is wide and accurate, is too far-fetched and strange to be of much practical use. But as a literary stylist he is very valuable indeed. He shows the ornate style of the time in its richest bloom. His diction is strongly Latinized, sometimes to the limit of obscurity; and he has the scholastic habit of introducing Latin tags and references. In this he resembles Burton; but in other respects he is far beyond the author of The Anatomy of Melancholy. His sentences are carefully wrought and artistically combined into paragraphs; and, most important from the purely literary point of view, the diction has a richness of effect unknown among other English prose-writers. The rhythm is harmonious, and finishes with carefully attuned cadences. The prose is sometimes obscure, rarely vivacious, and hardly ever diverting; but the solemnity and beauty of it have given it an enduring fascination. A brief extract will illustrate some of its qualities:

1. Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon (1609–74), was born in Wiltshire, educated at Oxford, and studied law. A man of excellent address, he was a successful lawyer, and became a member of the House of Commons. At first he was attached to the Parliamentary side, but he separated from the party on account of their attitude to the Church. He changed over to the Royalists, and thenceforward became one of the foremost advocates of the King’s cause. After the downfall of the Royalists he accompanied the young Charles into exile; and at the Restoration he was appointed Lord Chancellor and raised to the peerage as Earl of Clarendon. He was too severe for the frivolous Restoration times, was exiled (1667), and died in France. His body was buried in Westminster Abbey.

His great work, The History of the Great Rebellion, was begun as early as 1646 and finished during the years of his last exile. It was not published till 1704. To some extent the work is based on his own knowledge of the struggle; it lacks proportion and complete accuracy; but the narrative is strong and attractive, and it contains masterly character-sketches of some of the chief figures in the struggle. It is composed in long, lumbering sentences, loaded with parentheses and digressions, but the style is readable. It is the most important English work of a historical nature up to the date of its issue.

2. Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) was born at Malmesbury, and was the son of a clergyman. He finished his education at Oxford, and became tutor to the future Earl of Devonshire. He supported the Royalist cause, was exiled by the Roundheads, and at the Restoration was awarded a pension. The remainder of his long life was devoted to literature.

Hobbes took an active part in the intellectual broils of the period, and much of his work is violently contentious. His chief book was The Leviathan (1651), which expounded his political theories. The ardor of his opinions embroiled him with both of the chief political parties, but the abuse that it occasioned gave the book an immense interest. The style in which it is written is hard, clear, and accurate—almost the ideal medium for sustained exposition and argument.

3. Jeremy Taylor (1613–67) is the most prominent literary divine of the period. The son of a barber, he was born and educated at Cambridge, though latterly he removed to Oxford. Taking holy orders, he distinguished himself as an ardent expounder of the Royalist cause, and for a time he was imprisoned by the Parliamentary party. At the Restoration he was rewarded by being appointed to the Irish bishoprics of Down and Dromore. He died in Ireland.

A learned, voluble, and impressive preacher, Taylor carried the same qualities into his prose works, which consisted of tracts, sermons, and theological books. His most popular works, in addition to his collections of sermons, were The Liberty of Prophesying (1647), Holy Living (1650), and Holy Dying (1651). In his writings he is fond of quotations and allusions and of florid, rhetorical figures, such as simile, exclamation, and apostrophe; and his language, built into long, stately, but comprehensible sentences, is abundant, melodious, and pleasing.

4. Thomas Fuller (1608–61) was born in Northamptonshire, his father being a clergyman. He was educated at Cambridge, and took holy orders. He received various appointments, and by his witty sermons attracted the notice of Charles I. During the Civil War he was a chaplain to the Royalist forces; but when his side was defeated he made his peace with the Parliamentary party and was permitted to carry on his literary labors. He died the year after the Restoration.

Fuller had an original and penetrating mind, a wit apt for caustic comment, and an industry that remained unimpaired till the end of his life. His literary works are therefore of great interest and value. His serious historical books include The History of the Holy War (1639), dealing with the Crusades, and The Church-History of Britain (1655). Among his pamphlets are Good Thoughts in Bad Times (1645), and An Alarum to the Counties of England and Wales (1660). The work that has given him his reputation is his Worthies of England, published by his son in 1662. It shows his peculiar jocosity at its best.

1. Poetry. (a) The Lyric. The period is rich in lyrical poetry of a peculiar kind. The theme is chiefly love or religion. Most of the love-poems are dedicated to ladies of the usual literary convention, such as Althea, Celia, and Phyllis, who both in name and nature resemble the stock characters of the artificial pastoral poetry. The language addressed to such creations cannot be that of deep and genuine passion; it is rather that of polite compliment, verbal quibble, or courtly jest. This type of lyric is a charming literary exercise, but hardly the inspired searching of the lover’s heart. We have already noticed the poems of Herrick, Lovelace, and Carew as being representative of this class. To these names may be added those of George Wither (1588–1667), who writes freshly and sweetly, Andrew Marvell (1621–78), who sometimes reveals real passion, and the numerous miscellaneous songwriters, mostly anonymous, who in inspired moments could produce such charming lyrics as “Phillada flouts me.”

The religious lyric, on the other hand, as we can see in the case of Crashaw and Vaughan, is frequently passionately inspired; but the passions are vaguely expressed; and we have commented upon the incongruity that frequently disfigures the style. In the case of Milton his lyrics are superbly phrased, but they too lack spontaneity. His sonnets, among the noblest of their class, have much more depth of feeling.

(b) The Epic. The true epic treats of a sublime subject in the grand manner. In some respects Beowulf is an epic, but strictly speaking the epic does not appear till this age. Cowley’s Davideis (1637) and Davenant’s Gondibert (1651) aspire to be great epics; but though they subscribe to the rules governing the outward form of the species they lack the inner spirit and they are failures. Milton’s Paradise Lost (1658) has the heat and inspiration, but the Puritan bias in his nature led him to the rather unsuitable subject of the fall of man. It is unsuitable because it is weak in heroic action. Much more appropriate would have been the story of King Arthur, which for a long time he thought of using. Otherwise Milton’s treatment of the subject is strictly orthodox. Nominally at least he adheres to the epical unity of action; he draws his characters with a wide sweep; and the style is a triumph of English epical style. His Paradise Regained (1671) is worked out on the same lines, but it is shorter and weaker than the earlier epic.

(c) The Ode. In Spenser’s Epithalamion and Prothalamion we have seen the irregular ode attain to a high degree of perfection. In this age we observe the appearance of the Pindaric ode, which was to be so popular in the succeeding generations. Though it appears to be irregular, the Pindaric ode is really bound by stringent rules; its language is ornately artificial; and its diction mannered and unreal. Therefore it is suited to the needs of a transitional period that desires artificiality with a show of freedom. Cowley’s Pindarique Odes (1656) are the first of their class in English.

(d) Descriptive and Narrative Poetry. In this wide class we may include Milton’s L’Allegro and Il Penseroso, Herrick’s pastoral poems, and Crashaw’s religious-descriptive pieces. To these may be added the Cooper Hill (1641) of Sir John Denham (1615–69), a descriptive poem much praised in its day, and the romantic poem Pharonnida (1659) by William Chamberlayne (1619–89). In all these poems we may observe the growing tendency to avoid contact with actual wild nature, and to seek rather the conventional and bookish landscapes familiar in the more artificial classical authors. Already the new classicism is declaring itself.

2. Drama. Earlier in this chapter we have noticed the decline and temporary collapse of the drama (1642). The plays of Massinger sustain the expiring spirit of the great Elizabethans; those of Ford follow the tragical school of Webster and Tourneur. Other playwrights are James Shirley (1596–1666), who wrote some pleasing comedies of London life, such as The Lady of Pleasure (1637), and the feebler writers Suckling and Davenant.

3. Prose. While the period is almost devoid of narrative prose of the lighter sort, it is quite rich in prose of other kinds.

(a) The Sermon. This period has been called “the Golden Age of the English pulpit.” No doubt the violent religious strife of the time has much to do with the great flow of sermon writing, which is marked with eloquence, learning, and strong argument. In addition to Jeremy Taylor and Fuller, already mentioned, we may notice Robert South (1634–1716), who writes rather more briefly and simply than the rest, Isaac Barrow (1630–77), learned and copious, and Richard Baxter (1615–91), a Nonconformist, whose Saints’ Everlasting Rest (1649) has survived all his preachings.

(b) Philosophical Works. On the moral side there are the works of Sir Thomas Browne; on the political those of Hobbes; and on the religious side the books of John Hales (1584–1656). Works of this type show a growing knowledge and advancing scholarship, joined sometimes to quaint conceits and artless credulity.

(c) Historical Works. In this class Clarendon’s and Fuller’s works stand pre-eminent. The development of the history will be noticed in a future chapter (see p. 340).

(d) Miscellaneous Prose. In this large and varied group may be included the pamphlets of Milton, Hobbes, Fuller, and many more; the attractive books of Isaac Walton (1593–1683), whose Compleat Angler (1653) is the classic of its kind; the interesting Resolves, short miscellaneous essays, of Owen Felltham (1602–68); and the Letters (1645), an early type of essay-journalism, of James Howell (1594–1666).

1. Poetry. In surveying the poetical style of the age one is aware of conflicting tendencies, a state of affairs quite in keeping with the transitional nature of the time.

(a) The lyrical style shows a decline from the natural splendors of the Elizabethan age; but it shows an increase in care, in polish, and in actual metrical dexterity. Moreover, in the best examples of the time we find a melodious resonance and beauty that is quite peculiar to the period. The lyric of Carew quoted on p. 172 illustrates this felicity both of sound and expression. The startling “metaphysical” quality of the works of many of the poets has been commented upon. It is revealed at its worst in the works of John Cleveland (1613–58), whose more violent efforts came to be known as “Clevelandisms.” The following is a mild example of his manner:

(b) In blank verse conflicting movements are also apparent. In Milton the style reaches a magnificent climax. But in the drama, especially in the drama of minor playwrights of the ability of Suckling and Davenant, it becomes a huddle of verse and prose, so bad that one hesitates to say where the verse ends and the prose begins. It is the last stage of poetical decrepitude.

(c) The heroic couplet begins to appear, ushering in its long reign. We have it appearing as early as Spenser’s Shepherd’s Calendar (1579) and Sandys’s Ovid (1626); but the true stopped couplet, as used by Dryden and developed by Pope, is usually set down to the credit of Cowley’s Davideis (1637), or Denham’s Cooper’s Hill (1641), or the shorter poems of Edmund Waller (1606–87), who wrote stopped couplets as early as 1623. The heroic couplet will receive further notice in the next chapter.

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

2. Prose. In prose also we see the opposing tendencies. The principal movement is toward ornate prose, in Browne, Jeremy Taylor, Clarendon, and in the Scottish writer William Drummond (1585–1649), whose Cypress Grove (1616) is in the fashionable funereal vein. In the middle style we have the precision of Hobbes in The Leviathan. At the other extreme from the ornate, the miscellaneous writers adopt great simplicity. Of this class, which includes Howell and Felltham, the best example is Isaac Walton, whose artless prose is shown in the following specimen:

1. The following extracts illustrate the good and bad features of the “metaphysical” style in poetry. Comment upon each feature as it appears to you, and estimate the value of the style as a literary medium.

2. Compare the following examples of Milton’s earlier and later blank verse respectively. Observe the metrical dexterity, the cadence, and the vowel-music.

3. The following paragraph is fairly typical both of the prose of Jeremy Taylor and of that of the period in general. Point out the good and bad qualities of the style, and estimate its value.

4. Explain the references in the following passages. What parts of Milton’s character and literary works are emphasized?

5. “Milton neither belonged to nor founded a school.” Expand this statement, and try to account for the truth of it.

6. Point out the effects, good and bad, of the civil and religious strife upon the literature of the time.

7. “Both in prose and poetry the period is a turning-point in the history of English literature.” Discuss this statement.

8. Write a brief essay on “The Poetry of Puritanism.”

CHAPTER VII THE AGE OF DRYDEN — TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1660–1700) — THE NEW CLASSICISM — JOHN DRYDEN (1631–1700) — RESTORATION COMEDY — OTHER COMEDY-WRITERS — RESTORATION TRAGEDY — POETRY — PROSE-WRITERS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

The thick line shows the period of active literary work.

Three historical events deeply influenced the literary movements of the time: the Restoration of the year 1660; the Roman Catholic controversy that raged during the latter half of Charles II’s reign; and the Revolution of the year 1688.

1. The Restoration (1660). The Restoration of Charles II brought about a revolution in our literature. With the collapse of the Puritan Government there sprang up activities that had been so long suppressed that they flew to violent excesses. The Commonwealth had insisted on gravity and decorum in all things; the Restoration encouraged a levity that often became immoral and indecent. Along with much that is sane and powerful, this latter tendency is prominent in the writing of the time, especially in the comedies.

2. The Religious Question. The strength of the religious-political passions of the time is reflected in the current literature. The religion of the King was suspect; that of his brother James was avowedly Papist; and James was the heir-apparent to the crown. There was a prevalent suspicion of the Catholics, which, though it might have been groundless, was of such depth and intensity that it colors all the writings of the time. The lies of Titus Oates added to the popular frenzy, so that when the Earl of Shaftesbury sought to exclude James from the throne and supplant him by the Duke of Monmouth it needed all the efforts of Charles (himself secretly a Roman Catholic) to save his brother. The famous poem of Dryden, Absalom and Achitophel, is an outstanding example of a kind of poem that abounded during those troubled years.

3. The Revolution (1688). James succeeded to the throne in 1685; but so soon did he reveal his Roman Catholic prejudices that he was rejected in three years and was replaced by Protestant sovereigns. Henceforth religious passions diminish in intensity; and the literature of the succeeding years tends to emphasize the political rather than the religious side of public affairs.

By the year 1660 Elizabethan romanticism had all but spent itself. Of the great figures of the earlier era only one survived, John Milton, and he had still to write Paradise Lost; but in everything Milton was of the past. At the Restoration he retired and worked in obscurity, and his great poem reveals no signs of the time in which his later years were cast.

At the Restoration the break with the past was almost absolute. It involved our literature in the deepest degree; subject and style took on a new spirit and outlook, a different attitude and aim. Hence a post-Restoration period is often set up as the converse and antithesis of the previous Elizabethan age. It is called classical, as opposed to the Elizabethan romanticism. Though the contrast between the two epochs need not be over-emphasized, yet the differences are very great. Let us see in what respects the new spirit is shown.

1. Imitation of the Ancients. Lacking the genius of the Elizabethans, the authors of the time turned to the great classical writers, in particular to the Latin writers, for guidance and inspiration. This habit, quite noticeable during the time of Dryden, deepened and hardened during the succeeding era of Pope—so much so that the latter laid down as a final test of excellence

2. Imitation of the French. Charles II had spent most of his years of exile in France, and when he returned to England he brought with him a new admiration for French literature. In particular the effects of this penetrated very deeply into the drama, especially into comedy, the most copious literary product of the Restoration. Of French comedy the great Molière was the outstanding exponent, and his influence was very great. In the more formal tragedy French and classical models were combined to produce a new type called the heroic play. The type is well represented by Dryden’s Tyrannic Love.

3. The “Correct” School. The Elizabethans too had drawn upon the ancients, but they used their gains freely and joyously, bending the work of the classical authors to their own wills. The imitative work of the new school was of a frigid and limited quality. The school of Dryden was loath to alter; the age of Pope abandoned freedom altogether. Pope puts it thus:

Thus they evolved a number of “rules,” which can usefully be summarized in the injunction “Be correct.” “Correctness” means avoidance of enthusiasm; modern opinions moderately expressed; strict care and accuracy in poetical technique; and humble imitation of the style of the Latin classics.

Dryden did not attain altogether to this ideal. Pope and his immediate successors called him “copious,” thus hinting at a lack of care and an unrestrained vigor that were survivals of an earlier virility. Yet Dryden has the new tendency very clearly marked. To him Dr. Johnson first applied the epithet “Augustan,” saying that Dryden did to English literature what Augustus did to Rome, which he “found of brick and left of marble.” Dryden is the first great exponent of the new ideas that were to dominate our literature till the end of the eighteenth century.

1. His Life. Dryden’s life was a long one. It was, in addition, an exceedingly fruitful one. For forty years he continued to produce an abundance of literary works of every kind—poems, plays, and prose works. The quality of it was almost unfailingly good, and at the end of his life his poetry was as fresh and vivacious as it had been in the prime of his manhood.

Of Dryden it can be said without qualification that he is representative of his age. Indeed, it has been urged as a fault against his character that he adapted himself with too facile a conscience to the changing fortunes of the times. His earliest work of any importance is pre-Restoration, and consists of a laudation of Oliver Cromwell. At the Restoration he changed his views, attaching himself to the fortunes of Charles II and to the Church of England. This loyalty brought its rewards in honors and pensions, so that for many years Dryden was easily the most considerable literary figure in the land. Yet his career was not without its thorns, for smaller men were busy with their slanders. On the accession of James II in 1685 Dryden changed his faith and political persuasion, becoming a Roman Catholic. To his new beliefs he adhered steadfastly, even when in 1688 the Revolution brought certain disasters to such public men as adhered to Catholicism. Thus Dryden lost his posts of Poet Laureate and Historiographer Royal. The Laureateship was conferred on Shadwell, his most rancorous foe; and Dryden retired with dignity to sustain his last years with his literary labors. To this last period of his career we owe some of his finest translations and narrative poems. When he died in 1700 he was accorded a splendid funeral in Westminster Abbey, though it was many years before his grave was marked by a tombstone.

2. His Poetry. Dryden began his life’s work with poetry; he concluded it with poetry; and the years between are starred with the brightness of his greater poems. As early as February, 1664, Pepys records in his diary that he met “Mr. Dryden, the poet”; and he remained “Mr. Dryden, the poet,” till the day of his death. It is therefore as a poet that Dryden is chiefly to be judged.

His first published poem of any consequence was a series of heroic stanzas on the death of the Protector Oliver Cromwell (1659). It consists of thirty-seven quatrains of no particular merit. They move stiffly, and are quite uninspired by any political or personal enthusiasm, but they show a certain angular force and a little metrical dexterity. Two stanzas will show the art of the earliest Dryden:

In 1660 he made a great step forward in poetical craftsmanship by publishing Astrœa Redux, in celebration of Charles II’s return. The poem represents a complete reversal of the poet’s political opinions; but it is nevertheless a noteworthy literary advance. In its handling of the subject it shows a firmer grip and stronger common sense; in its style a new command of sonorous and dignified phrasing; and (as important a feature as any of the others) it is written in the heroic couplet.

Here we see Dryden, though not yet at his best, coming to his own. The couplet marches with a steady but animated ring and swing. Its phrasing is apt and vivid; and it possesses a strength and music that are new. It marks the beginning of that adherence to the use of the couplet which was to be Dryden’s lifelong habit, and which was to mark a new epoch in our literature.

Two other poems of this year—one on the coronation and one addressed to the Chancellor, Clarendon,—resemble Astrœa Redux in their main features, and are little inferior.

In 1666 he produced Annus Mirabilis, dealing with the extraordinary events of the year, particularly the Fire of London and the Dutch war. The poem is long, and often dull. When he attempts “style” he is sometimes florid and ridiculous. Moreover, the meter returns to the quatrain. The work is inferior to those of 1660, but is still an advance on the stanzas to Cromwell.

For more than fifteen years succeeding this Dryden devoted himself almost entirely to the writing of plays. Then, about 1680, events both political and personal drove him back to the poetical medium, with results both splendid and astonishing. Political passions over the Exclusion Bills were at their height, and Dryden appeared as the chief literary champion of the monarchy in the famous satirical allegory Absalom and Achitophel (1681). Absalom is the Duke of Monmouth, the unfortunate aspirant to the succession; and Achitophel is his daring but injudicious counselor Shaftesbury. These two are surrounded by a cluster of lesser politicians, upon each of whom Dryden bestows a Biblical name of deadly aptness and transparency. The satire is of amazing force and range, rarely stooping to scurrility, but punishing its victims with devastating scorn and a wrathful aloofness; and it takes shape in the best quality of Dryden’s couplet. Long practice in dramatic couplet-writing had now given Dryden a new metrical facility, tightening and strengthening the measure, and giving it crispness and energy without allowing it to become violent and obscure. We give a specimen of this measure, which in many ways represents the summit of Dryden’s poetical achievement:

Of such satire as this Dryden himself says not unfairly, “It is not bloody, but it is ridiculous enough. I avoided the mention of great crimes, and applied myself to the representing of blind sides and little extravagances.” The hitting is hard, but not foul.

Next year he produced another political poem, The Medal, which called forth an answer from an old friend of Dryden’s, Shadwell. Dryden retorted in MacFlecknoe, a personal lampoon of gigantic power and ferocity, but degraded with much coarseness and personal spite. A similar poem is the second part of Absalom and Achitophel, to which poem Dryden contributed a violent attack on Shadwell, giving him the name of Og. The main part of the work was composed by Nahum Tate, a satellite of Dryden’s.

A new poetical development was manifest in Religio Laici (1682) and The Hind and the Panther (1687). The first poem is a thesis in support of the English Church; the second, written after the accession of James, is an allegorical defense of the Roman Catholic faith. Alterations like these in Dryden’s opinions gave free play to the gibes of his enemies. In spite of their difference in opinion, these poems have much in common: a clear light of argument, a methodical arrangement of ideas, and a mastery of the couplet that often lifts the drabness of the expository theme into passages of noble feeling and splendor. The allegorical treatment of The Hind and the Panther allows of a livelier handling; but the poem is very long, consisting of more than one part, and much of it is dogmatic assertion and tedious argument.

After the Revolution, when he was driven from his public appointments, Dryden occupied himself chiefly with translations. He once more used the couplet medium, turning Virgil, Ovid, and Boccaccio into English, and adapting Chaucer to the taste of his time. The translation is so free that much of it is Dryden’s own, and all of it teems with his own individuality. We give a passage to illustrate both the latest phase of his couplet and his power as a narrative poet:

Though it is small in bulk, Dryden’s lyrical poetry is of much importance. The longest and the best-known pieces of this class are his Song for St. Cecilia’s Day (1687) and Alexander’s Feast, written for the same anniversary in 1697. Both show Dryden as a master of melodious verse and of a varied and powerful style. The numerous lyrics that appear in his plays are charming. One stanza will illustrate this sweetly facile phase of the poet’s art:

His numerous prologues and epilogues, written in couplets, show abundant wit and vivacity, yet they habitually appeal to the worst instincts of his audiences, being very often coarse and unmannerly.

3. His Drama. In his dramatic work, as elsewhere, Dryden is a faithful reflex of his time. His methods and objects vary as the public appreciation of them waxes and wanes, with the result that he gives us a historical summary of the popular fancy.

His first play was a comedy, The Wild Gallant (1663), which had but a very moderate success. It has the complicated plot of the popular Spanish comedies and the “humors” of Jonson’s. After this unsuccessful attempt at public favor Dryden turned to tragedy, which henceforth nearly monopolizes his dramatic work.

His tragedies fall into two main groups:

(a) The Heroic Play. This is a new type of the tragedy that became prominent after the Restoration, and of which Dryden is one of the earliest and most skillful exponents. The chief features of the new growth are the choice of a great heroic figure for the central personage; a succession of stage incidents of an exalted character, which often, through the inexpertness of the dramatist, became ridiculous; a loud and ranting style; and the rhymed couplet. Dryden’s Rival Ladies (1663) is a hybrid between the comic and heroic species of play; The Indian Emperor (1665), Tyrannic Love (1669), The Conquest of Granada (1670), and Aurengzebe (1675) show the heroic kind at its best and worst. Though Dryden is heavily weighted with the ponderous mechanism of the heroic play, his gigantic literary strength is often sufficient to give it an attraction and a kind of heavy-footed animation.

(b) His Blank-verse Tragedies. The heroic play was so easily parodied and made ridiculous, that the wits of the Restoration were not slow to make a butt of it. Their onslaughts were not without their effect on Dryden, for already in Aurengzebe a shamefaced weakening of the heroic mannerisms is apparent. In the prologue to this play Dryden fairly admits it, saying that he

His next play, All for Love, or The World well Lost (1678), is in blank verse, and is considered to be his dramatic masterpiece. For subject he chose that of Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. It was a daring thing to attempt what Shakespeare had already done; but Dryden, while following the earlier play somewhat closely, never actually copies it. He produces a play of a distinctly different nature, and of a high merit. The characters are well drawn and animated, and the style, though lacking the daimonic force of Shakespeare’s at his best, is noble and restrained. We give Dryden’s handling of the death of Cleopatra, a passage which should be compared with that of Shakespeare given on p. 121.

After the Revolution he wrote Don Sebastian (1690), Cleomenes (1691), and Love Triumphant (1694). The last was a tragi-comedy and a failure. The other two, however, were quite up to the average of his plays. In addition, at various stages of his career he collaborated with Lee in two other tragedies, and attempted, with lamentable results, to improve upon Shakespeare’s Tempest and Troilus and Cressida.

4. His Prose. Dryden’s versatility is apparent when we observe that in prose, as well as in poetry and drama, he attains to primacy in his generation. In the case of prose he has one rival, John Bunyan. No single item of Dryden’s prose work is of very great length; but in his Essay of Dramatic Poesie (1668), in his numerous dedicatory epistles and prefaces, and in the scanty stock of his surviving letters we have a prose corpus of some magnitude. The general subject of his prose is literary criticism, and that of a sane and vigorous quality. The style is free, but not too free; there are slips of grammar, but they are not many. The Essay of Dramatic Poesie is his longest single prose work. It is cast into dialogue form, in which four characters, one of whom is Dryden himself, discuss such well-worked themes as ancients versus moderns and blank verse versus rhyme. Studded throughout the book are passages of rare ability, one of which is the following, which illustrates not only his prose style, but also his acute perception of literary values:

In comedy alone Dryden showed a certain incapacity; his mind seemed to be too rugged and unresilient to catch the sharper moods of the current wit. Fortunately this weakness of his was atoned for by the activities of a brilliant group of dramatists who made Restoration comedy a thing apart in English literature.

The new comedy, of a slower growth than the new heroic play, owed much of its inspiration to French comedy. It marked a new stage in the civilization of England. The plays of the Shakespearian era were beginning to be thought out of date. In his diary Evelyn notes that “the old plays begin to disgust this refined age.” Though the age was no doubt refined in certain respects, it was also decadent, and this decadent spirit is reflected in its comedy.

The novel features of the type are:

(a) The theme is mainly of courtiers and their class, their vices and affectations, their love-intrigues and money-grabbing. The characters are still to a great extent those of the “humorsome” quality so common in the time of Jonson. Their names reveal their dispositions: Sir Fopling Flutter; Scrub (a servant); Colonel Bully; Sir John Brute; Squire Sullen; Gibbet (a highwayman); Lady Bountiful. Such characters as these are involved in plots of great and unnatural complication, with much bustle and unlimited love-intrigue. In rare cases, as in some of the plays of Shadwell, the characters are much more human and the conditions more natural; and then we obtain deeply interesting glimpses of the habits of the time. But in general the whole atmosphere of the comedies is artificial and unreal.

(b) The prevailing love-theme is treated in a characteristic fashion which is fortunately rare in English. It is not handled coarsely; indeed, the age shows a ridiculous squeamishness at the grosser forms of vice; but it is handled with a cool licentiousness and a vicious pleasure that are often exceedingly clever, but always repulsive. It is art, but art of a perverted kind.

(c) The style of the comedy suits the treatment. It is prose of a neat and brilliant kind: deft and forcible, clean-cut and precise. The style of Congreve, a specimen of which is given below, is a model of its kind.

William Congreve (1670–1729). Though Congreve is not the first in time, he is probably the first in merit among the comedy-writers. He had a long life, but a glance at the table at the head of the chapter will show that only a short period of his life was productive of literary work. His plays were produced between 1693 and 1700. The last play was not successful, and repeated attacks were forthcoming upon his defects, so he wrote no more.

His first comedy was The Old Bachelor (1693); then came The Double Dealer (1693 or 1694), Love for Love (1695), and The Way of the World (1700). In 1697 he produced one tragedy, The Mourning Bride, which had no success. The earlier plays have a slight touch of seriousness, which is rarer still in the later comedies.

All are marked by the same features. The characters are numerous, brilliant, and sharply defined. In each case, however, they are too one-sided to be real; but they fulfill their purpose in the plays. The plots are full of scandalous notions delicately adumbrated; and the style is as keen and deadly as a sharp sword.

The following is a passage from The Way of the World. Two gentleman are backbiting an acquaintance.

1. William Wycherley (1640–1715). The productive period of Wycherley’s life was brief but fruitful. He produced four plays in five years: Love in a Wood (1672), The Gentleman Dancing Master (1673), The Country Wife (1675), and The Plain Dealer (1677). He was a man of good family, and he was at Court, where he seems to have been no better than the average courtier of his time.

His contemporaries call his plays “manly.” By this they probably refer to a boisterous indecency that riots through his comedies, in which nearly every person is a fool, and every clever man a rogue and a rake. He is much coarser in the grain than Congreve, and cannot keep his work at such a high level. Yet he shows much wit in handling dialogue, and has a sharp, though distorted, vision for human weaknesses.

2. George Etheredge (1635–91). Not much is known regarding the life of Etheredge; but he appears to have been a courtier, and to have served abroad. If all stories about him are true, he had an ample share of the popular vices. He is said to have been killed by tumbling downstairs while drunk. His three plays are The Comical Revenge, or Love in a Tub (1664), She Would if She Could (1668), and The Man of Mode (1676). They are more uneven than Wycherley’s, and at their worst are grosser; but they are clever, and can be lively and amusing.

3. Sir John Vanbrugh (1666–1726). Vanbrugh’s career, though much of it is obscure, seems to have been a varied one, for at different times he was a soldier, a herald, and an architect. His best three comedies are The Relapse (1697), The Provoked Wife (1698), and The Confederacy (1705).

In the general opinion Vanbrugh is held to be a good second to Congreve, but his plays are exceedingly unequal. His wit is rather more genial than is common at this time, and sometimes his touch is firm and sure.

4. Thomas Shadwell (1640–92). Dryden’s abuse of Shadwell has given the latter a notoriety that he scarcely deserves. Little is known about his life except that he was created Poet Laureate at the deposition of Dryden in 1688. He wrote many plays, some of which were popular in their day. The best three are The Sullen Lovers (1668), The Squire of Alsatia (1688), and Bury Fair (1689).

Shadwell is coarse without being clever to atone for it. His characters are often wooden and unreal, but he has the knack of laying his hand on good material. His Squire of Alsatia is full of interesting information about the life of the time, and Scott drew largely upon it for The Fortunes of Nigel.

5. George Farquhar (1678–1707). He had an adventurous career, was in turn a clergyman, an actor, and a soldier, and died when he was thirty years old. The pathos of his early death has given him a fame of its own. He wrote seven plays, the best of which are the last two, viz., The Recruiting Officer (1706) and The Beaux’ Stratagem (1707).

Farquhar comes late among the Restoration dramatists, and by this time the cynical immorality of the age seems to have worn thin. His temper is certainly more genial, and his wit, though it has lapses, is more decorous. The Beaux’ Stratagem (see pp. 225–6) is a lively and ingenious comedy with a cleverly engineered plot.

With regard to tragedy, Dryden is amply representative of his age. The period is less rich in tragedy than it is in comedy, for several reasons. (a) The spirit of the time was too irresponsible and vivacious to provide a healthy breeding-ground for this type of play. (b) The average poetical standard was not high; and tragedy of a superior type needs a high level of poetic merit. (c) There was a lack of fresh models, the tragedians being dependent on the Elizabethan plays (which were not popular), and on the classical French tragedies. Yet there are a few tragedians who deserve a brief mention.

1. Thomas Otway (1651–85). As was so often the case with the dramatists of the time, Otway had a varied and troubled career, closed with a miserable death. His first play, Alcibiades, was produced about 1675; then followed Don Carlos (1676), The Orphan (1680), and his masterpiece, Venice Preserved (1682).

Venice Preserved (see p. 226) for long held the reputation of being the best tragedy outside Shakespeare, and that reputation has kept it in the forefront. It shows his work at its best. It has a rugged and somber force, and reveals a considerable skill in working out a dramatic situation. But Otway tends to lay on the horrors too thickly; his style is unreliable, and his comic passages are farce of the coarsest kind. If he is second to Shakespeare, he is a very bad second.

2. Nathaniel Lee (1653–92). Lee’s life is the usual tale of mishaps, miseries, and drunkenness, with a taint of madness as an additional calamity. He wrote many tragedies, some of which are Nero (1673), Sophonisba (1676), The Rival Queens (1677), and Mithridates (1678). He also collaborated with Dryden in the production of two plays.

During his own time Lee’s name became a byword to distinguish a kind of wild, raving style, which in part at least seems to have been a product of his madness. But he can write well when the spirit is in him; he has a command of pathos, and all through his work he has touches of real poetic quality.

3. Elkanah Settle (1648–1724). Settle was in some ways the butt of his literary friends, and Dryden has given him prominence by attacking him in his satires. In his day he obtained some popularity with a heroic play, The Empress of Morocco (1673). It is a poor specimen of its kind, but his other dramas are worse.

4. John Crowne (1640–1703). Crowne is another of the dramatists who attacked Dryden and who were in turn assailed by the bigger man. A voluminous playwright, Crowne’s best-known works are the tragedies of Caligula (1698), a heroic play, and Thyestes, in blank verse, and a comedy, Sir Courtly Nice (1685). Crowne is quite a good specimen of the average Restoration dramatist. The plays show considerable talent and a fair amount of skill in versification.

5. Nicholas Rowe (1674–1718). During his lifetime Rowe was a person of some importance, and was made Poet Laureate in 1714. His best-known plays are Tamerlane (1702), The Fair Penitent (1703), and the popular Jane Shore (1714). Johnson says of him, “His reputation comes from the reasonableness of some of his scenes, the elegance of his diction, and the suavity of his verse.”

Samuel Butler (1612–80). Besides Dryden and the tragedy-writers the only considerable poet of the period is Samuel Butler, and his fame rests on one work, Hudibras.

As a middle-aged man Butler saw the rough and tumble of the Civil War, and was nearly fifty when the Restoration occurred. He seems to have been of humble birth and to have served as a kind of superior menial in a number of noble households. In the course of these several occupations he acquired the varied knowledge that he was to put to good use in his poem. In 1663 he published Hudibras, which was at once a success. Two other parts followed in 1664 and 1678 respectively.

Hudibras was topical, for it was a biting satire on the Puritans, who were the reverse of popular when the King returned. In general outline it is modeled upon the adventures of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, who find their respective parallels in Sir Hudibras and his squire Ralpho. Sir Hudibras is a Puritan knight who undergoes many absurd adventures; but the poem lacks the real pathos and genuine insight of its great Spanish original. It is wholly, almost spitefully, satirical. The poem is composed artfully. The adventures are well chosen in order to throw the greatest amount of ridicule on the maladroit hero; the humor, though keen and caustic, is never absolutely brutal in expression; there is a freakish spattering of tropes and a mock-solemn parade of scholastic learning; and (a feature that added immeasurably to its success) it is cast in an odd jigging octosyllabic couplet. This meter of Hudibras is remarkable. It is varied and yet uniform, and it carries the tale with an easy relish. Though it is sometimes almost doggerel, it has always a kind of distinction, and each couplet is clenched with an ingenious rhyme that is the most amusing feature of all.

1. John Bunyan (1628–88). In the domain of Restoration prose Bunyan alone contests the supremacy of Dryden. And Bunyan stands in a class by himself.

The main facts of his life are well known. He himself has given them an imperishable shape in his Grace Abounding (1666), a kind of religious autobiography. Though the statements of this book need not be taken too literally, he seems to have misspent his youth. He draws a horrible picture of his own depravity; but as religious converts are well known to delight in depicting their original wickedness in the darkest colors, this need not be taken too seriously. He served as a soldier in the Civil War, and seems to have been no better than the ordinary soldier. Religious conversion came to him about 1656, saving him, according to his own account, from everlasting fire. In the flood of his new enlightenment he became a preacher, and, being unlicensed, was arrested. He was cast into Bedford jail, and remained there for twelve years (1660–72). He was released, and obtained a license; but this was canceled in 1675, and he was imprisoned for six months. Beginning with this latter period we have all his most famous works: The Pilgrim’s Progress (1677), The Life and Death of Mr. Badman (1680), and The Holy War (1682). He was eventually set at liberty, and spent his last years preaching in peace.

Except for Grace Abounding, all Bunyan’s major works are allegorical. In each case the allegory is worked out with ease, force, and clearness. Readers of all ages enjoy the narrative, while they follow the double meaning without an effort. The allegorical personages—for example, Mr. Worldly Wiseman, Mrs. Diffidence, Giant Despair, Madame Wanton, My Lord Hategood, Mr. Standfast—are fresh and apt, and are full of an intense interest and a raw dramatic energy. Their individual adventures combine and react with a variety that keeps the story from monotony, and yet the simple idea of a forward journey is never lost. The plot, working upon the fortunes of the different characters, gives us the nearest approach to the pure novel that had so far been effected. The numerous natural descriptions are simply done, but they are full of a great unspoilt ability. Lastly, Bunyan’s style is unique in prose. Though it is undoubtedly based upon the great Biblical models, it is quite individual. It is homely, but not vulgar; strong, but not coarse; equable, but not monotonous; it is sometimes humorous, but it is never ribald; rarely pathetic, but never sentimental. It has remained the pattern of a plain style, and is one of the masterpieces of the English language.

The following extract gives us an idea of Bunyan’s narrative and descriptive power, and is a fair specimen of his masculine prose:

2. Lord Halifax (1633–95). Halifax was an outstanding figure in the House of Lords during the exciting times of the Exclusion Bills, of which he was the chief opponent. He ranks high as an orator; as an author his fame rests on a small volume called Miscellanies. The book contains a number of political tracts, such as The Character of a Trimmer, and a piece of a more general character called Advice to a Daughter. In his writings Halifax adopts the manner and attitude of the typical man of the world: a moderation of statement, a cool and agreeably acid humor, and a style devoid of flourishes. In him we find a decided approach to the essay-manner of Addison.

3. Sir William Temple (1628–99). Temple also was a politician of some importance, filled diplomatic posts abroad, and was a moderate success in affairs at home. He is an example of the moneyed, leisured semi-amateur in literature. He wrote little and elegantly, as a gentleman should, and patronized authors of lesser fortune and greater genius. His best work is his Essay on Poetry. His style resembles that of Halifax in its mundane, cultured reticence; but at times he has higher flights, in which he shows some skill in the handling of melodious and rhythmic prose.

4. John Tillotson (1630–94). In Tillotson we have one of the popular preachers of the time, and his Sermons is mentioned by Addison as being a standard work of its class. He is a literary descendant of the great school of Jeremy Taylor and Thomas Fuller, but his style lacks their richness and melody, though it gains in clearness and crispness.

5. The Diarists. By a coincidence it happened that the two most famous diary-writers in English were working at the same time, and during this period. Not dissimilar in several respects, their works show both the drawbacks and the advantages of the diary manner. The books are private documents, and so have no formal pretensions to literary excellence in style, which is not an undiluted misfortune. Yet the style is often ragged and incoherent, and much reading at it produces a feeling of flatness and monotony. But, on the other hand, being private jottings, they are intimate, and so are interesting, full of information concerning public and personal affairs, and containing illuminating comments on people and incidents.

(a) Of the two Samuel Pepys (1633–1703) is the less worthy as a man, but his very human quality makes him the livelier and the more interesting. By occupation he was a kind of civil servant in the Admiralty, and prospered so well that he became a member of Parliament and Secretary to the Admiralty. His diary, which was meant to be strictly personal, was written in cipher, and the reading of it gives one the impression of surreptitiously peeping into his back window when the blinds are up. By a multitude of detail the book shows Pepys to have been mean and lustful; vain and trivial; ambitious, and yet without the resolution that should attend it. Yet withal he is intensely human and alive, full of a magpie alertness; and in addition he has the gift of inspiring in his readers the same vividness of curiosity. We could ill spare Pepys from among those mortals who have become immortal in their own despite.

(b) John Evelyn (1620–1706) is the other diarist, and is much more respectable and much less amusing than Pepys. His diary is a more finished production in the matter of style, and may have been produced with an eye on the public. The style is only moderate in quality, and has little of the freshness that distinguishes Pepys’. The diary, however, is full of accurate information, and in some of the more moving incidents, such as that of the Great Fire, it warms into something like real eloquence.

Viewed as a whole, this period is seen to be one of transition; and, being so, it is to a large extent one of stagnation, time’s dead low-water. The Elizabethan fervor had spent itself, and the new classicism was still in the making. Yet the time is important in the development of literary forms and style.

1. Poetry. (a) The Lyric. The form of the lyric shows little change. In bulk it is inconsiderable, for the lyrical spirit is largely in abeyance. Outside Dryden, who is the best example of the lyrical bard, we have the slight work of the courtiers, the Earl of Dorset (1637–1706), the Earl of Rochester (1647–80), and Sir Charles Sedley (16391701). These were fashionable men, taking their poetry with fashionable irresponsibility. Their poems, which nearly all deal with the love-theme in an artificial manner, have a decided charm and skill, being modeled on the Caroline poems that were the mode before the Civil War. Of real originality there is hardly a trace.

(b) The Ode. Once more Dryden towers pre-eminent in this class of poem. His two odes on the anniversary of St. Cecilia’s Day and his other ode on the death of Mrs. Anne Killigrew are among the best of any period. Written in the irregular Pindaric meter, they are full of the high passion that gives the artificial medium some real fire and energy. We give the opening lines of the elegiac poem:

(c) The Satire. Several circumstances combined to make this age abound in satirical writing. It was a period of bitter political and personal contention, of easy morals and subdued enthusiasms, of sharp wit and acute discrimination. For these reasons satire acquired a new importance and a sharper edge.

The older satire, such as is represented in the poems of Donne and of Andrew Marvell (1621–78), was of a more general kind, and seemed to have been written with deliberate clumsiness and obscurity. These habits were repugnant to the ideals of the new age, whose satire is more personal and more vindictive. Its effect is immensely more incisive, and it obtains a new freshness and point by the use of the heroic couplet, in which it is almost wholly written. Dryden’s Absalom and Achitophel is an excellent example of the political satire, while his MacFlecknoe shows the personal type. Literary satire is also well represented in The Rehearsal (1671), which parodied the literary vices of the time, especially those of the heroic play. This work, which was reproduced year after year, with topical hits in every new edition, was the work of several hands, though the Duke of Buckingham receives the chief credit. Butler’s Hudibras is a satire on the Puritans. The miscellaneous satire of John Oldham (1653–83) had much of the earlier clumsiness.

(d) Narrative poetry. Dryden’s translations and adaptations of Chaucer, Virgil, Ovid, and Boccaccio are the chief examples of this form. Among others, he gives us Chaucer’s Wife of Bath’s Tale, The Knight’s Tale, and several tales from Boccaccio. There is no fresh development to record. Butler’s Hudibras is narrative of a kind, though the chief interest is satirical.

2. Drama. The development of the drama is considerable. We summarize briefly what has already been indicated.

(a) In tragedy the most novel in the matter of form is the heroic play, whose peculiarities have already been pointed out on p. 199. There is little further development. The tragical faculty is weakening all through the period, even in comparison with the post-Shakespearian plays. This type of play is best represented by Dryden’s All for Love and Otway’s Venice Preserved. The characters are becoming more stagy, and the situations are made as horrible as the ingenuity of the dramatist can devise.

(b) In comedy the advance is noteworthy. The comedy of “humors” is dying out, though considerable traces of it are still visible. The influence of the French is giving the comedy a new “snap” and glitter, and the almost universal medium is prose. Congreve’s Way of the World (1700), Wycherley’s Country Wife (1675), and Farquhar’s Beaux’ Stratagem (1707) are good examples.

3. Prose. With the exception of the work of Dryden and Bunyan, the prose work of the time is of little moment. Dryden’s prose is almost entirely devoted to literary criticism; Bunyan’s contribution shows a remarkable development of the prose allegory. The remainder of the prose-writers deal with political and miscellaneous subjects, with, in addition, some theological and historical writing.

The main tendency of the age, in all departments of literature, is toward a clear, plain, and forcible style.

1. Poetry. The new movement was seen most clearly in the development of the heroic couplet, which was soon to spread throughout poetry and through much of the drama. As we have seen (p. 182), in the previous age the couplet had become so loose that it resembled a cross between prose and verse. An exponent of such a measure is Chamberlayne (1619–89):

This is a curious liquid measure. The pause is irregularly distributed, and the rhythm is light and easy.

Cowley and Denham likewise obtain much credit for the introduction of the new measure; but the chief innovator is Edmund Waller (1606–87). Dryden, in his dedication to The Rival Ladies says, “Rime has all the advantages of prose besides its own. But the excellence and dignity of it were never fully known till Mr. Waller first taught it.” An extract from Waller will suffice:

The note here is quite different from that of the previous extract. The tread of the meter is steady and almost uniform, and the pauses cluster about the middle and the end of the lines. It must be noted, too, that a large proportion of Waller’s poetry took this form.

Dryden adopted the heroic couplet, but he improved upon the wooden respectability of his predecessors’ verse. While he retained all the couplet’s steadiness and force, he gave it an additional vigor, a sinewy elegance, and a noble rhythm and beauty. It is worth while giving another example of his couplet:

In its own fashion this passage is as melodious and powerful as some of the noblest lines of Milton.

In other forms of poetry the style contains little to be commented upon. The blank verse continues the disintegration that (with the exception of the verse of Milton) began with the death of Shakespeare. We give a good example of this Restoration blank verse:

In this passage we can observe the absence of the high poetic fire of the Elizabethans and the lack of the thunderous depth of Milton. Observe the regularity of the beat, the uniformity of the pauses, and the frequency of the hypermetrical ending. There is, nevertheless, a certain somber, dogged attraction about the style of the passage. The average blank verse of the time is much less regular, and much less attractive.

The lyric still shows a reflection of the Caroline manner, as can be seen in the following example:

This lyric has an undoubted sweetness of expression, though it is artificial in thought.

2. Prose. Though the prose writing of the period is not great in bulk, it shows a profound change in style. Previous writers, such as Browne, Clarendon, and Hobbes, had done remarkable and beautiful work in prose, but their style had not yet found itself. It was wayward and erratic, often cumbrous and often obscure, and weighted with a Latinized construction and vocabulary. In Dryden’s time prose begins definitely to find its feet. It acquires a general utility and a permanence; it is smoothed and straightened, simplified and harmonized. This is the age of average prose, and prepares the way for the work of Swift and Addison, who stand on the threshold of the modern prose style. Less than forty years intervene between Dryden and Sir Thomas Browne; yet Dryden and his school seem to be nearer the twentieth century than they are to Browne.

Not that Dryden’s style is flawless. It is sometimes involved and obscure; there are little slips of grammar and many slips of expression; but on the average it is of high quality, and the impression that the reader receives is one of great freshness and abounding vitality. Further examples of this good average style will be found in the work of Temple and Halifax.

In the case of Bunyan the style becomes plainer still. But it is powerful and effective, and bears the narrative nobly. Pepys and Evelyn have no pretensions to style as such, but their work is admirably expressed, and Evelyn in especial has passages of more elevated diction.

In some authors of the period we find this desire for unornamented style degenerating into coarseness and ugliness. Such a one is Jeremy Collier (1650–1726), whose Short View of the Profaneness and Immorality of the English Stage (1698) caused a great commotion in its day. It attacked the vices of the stage with such vigor that it is said to have driven some of the playwrights from their evil courses. The style of this famous book is so colloquial that it becomes in places ungrammatical. Thomas Sprat (1635–1713) was another disciple of the same school. He wrote on the newly formed Royal Society, which demanded from its members, “a close, naked, natural way of speaking.” This expresses the new development quite well. A greater man than Sprat but a fellow-member of the Royal Society, was John Locke (1632–1704), who in his famous Essay concerning Human Understanding (1690) put the principle into practice. Locke’s style is bare to baldness, but it is clear. We give an example:

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

In one prominent case we have a survival of the more elaborate style of the past, and that is in the history of Gilbert Burnet (1643–1715), Bishop of Salisbury, whose History of his own Times was published after his death. The style of the book is modeled on that of Clarendon. Burnet’s style is not of the same class as that of his predecessor: it has lapses into colloquialism; its sentences are snipped into small pieces by means of frequent colons and semicolons; and he has not Clarendon’s command of vocabulary.

1. The two following lyrics are respectively of the Restoration and the Caroline periods. Compare and contrast them in (a) subject, (b) style, and (c) meter. Summarize the effect of either of them, and say which you prefer and why you prefer it.

2. Write a brief criticism of the following passage of Dryden’s prose. Comment upon (a) the vocabulary, (b) the type of sentence, (c) any colloquialisms or slips of grammar, and (d) its value as literary criticism.

3. The extracts given below illustrate the development of the stopped couplet. Point out briefly the change that comes over the meter, paying attention to (a) the regularity of the accent, (b) the pause, and (c) the cæsura.

4. In the following extract from Bunyan explain carefully the literal meaning that lies behind the allegory. Remark upon (a) its clearness, (b) its appropriateness and beauty. Add a note on Bunyan’s style, especially with regard to its connection with the Bible.

5. The following extracts illustrate respectively Restoration comedy and tragedy:

Remark upon the style of the dialogue, and how it suits the situation.

Remark upon the power of this scene, the skill shown in the variation of the speeches, the use of colloquialisms, and the climax. Does it strike you as being overdone? Add a note on the meter.

6. The following is Dryden’s character-sketch of the Duke of Buckingham, who receives the name of Zimri. (Dryden, in his Essay on Satire, says: “How easy it is to call rogue and villain, and that wittily! but how hard to make a man appear a fool, a blockhead, or a knave without using any of these opprobrious names! There is a vast difference between the slovenly butchering of a man and the fineness of stroke that separates the head from the body, and leaves it standing in its place.... The character of Zimri, in my Absalom and Achitophel, is, in my opinion, worth the whole poem. It is not bloody, but it is ridiculous enough.”)

From this passage quote the lines which hint that Buckingham is respectively “a fool, a blockhead, or a knave” without actually calling him so. Quote other lines that seem to be particularly effective. Remark upon the style of the couplet: the meter, the position of the pause, and the kind of rhyme. Finally, write a paragraph summarizing the effect the passage produces on the reader.

7. The passage given below is an extract from Dryden’s earliest printed poem (1658). Compare it with the passage given in the last exercise.

From the passages already quoted give extracts to show the truth of the above statement.

9. Use the following quotation to sketch the development of English prose from the death of Shakespeare to the death of Dryden:

10. “A good deal of the unconquerable individuality of the earlier part of the century survives in it, and prevents monotony. After Addison everybody tries to write like Addison; after Johnson almost everybody tries to write like Johnson. But after Dryden everybody dare not yet try to write like Dryden.” (Saintsbury.) Show how far this statement applies to the prose style of the age.

11. “The characteristic feature of The Pilgrim’s Progress is that it is the only work of its kind which possesses a strong human interest.” (Macaulay.) Show how Bunyan, in plot, characters, and style, arouses this “strong human interest” in his allegory. From this point of view compare him with Spenser, who, Macaulay says, does not arouse this interest.

12. The period of Dryden is often called “the Age of Satire.” Account for the prominence of satire in this period, and point out some of the effects it had on current and the succeeding writing.

13. What are the main features of Restoration drama?

14. “No man exercised so much influence on the age. The reason is obvious. On no man did the age exercise so much influence.” (Macaulay.) How far is this statement true of Dryden?

CHAPTER VIII THE AGE OF POPE — TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1700–50) — THE AGE OF PROSE — JONATHAN SWIFT (1667–1745) — JOSEPH ADDISON (1672–1718) — SIR RICHARD STEELE (1672–1729) — DANIEL DEFOE (1659–1731) — OTHER PROSE-WRITERS — ALEXANDER POPE (1688–1744) — OTHER POETS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

The thick line shows the period of active literary work

In the beginning of the eighteenth century the old quarrels take on new features.

1. The Rise of the Political Parties. In the reign of Charles II the terms “Whig” and “Tory” first became current; by the year 1700 they were in everybody’s mouth. About that time domestic politicians became sharply cleft into two groups that were destined to become established as the basis of the British system. Domestic affairs, while they never approached the stage of bloodshed, took on a new acrimony that was to affect literature deeply. Actual points of political faith upon which the parties were divided are not of great importance to us here; but, generally speaking, we may say that the Whig party stood for the pre-eminence of personal freedom as opposed to the Tory view of royal divine right. Hence the Whigs supported the Hanoverian succession, whereas the Tories were Jacobites. The Tories, whose numbers were recruited chiefly from the landed classes, objected to the foreign war upon the score that they had to pay taxes to prolong it; and the Whigs, representing the trading classes generally, were alleged to be anxious to continue the war, as it brought them increased prosperity. In the matter of religion the Whigs were Low Churchmen and the Tories High Churchmen.

2. The Foreign War. This War of the Spanish Succession was brilliantly successful under the leadership of Marlborough, who, besides being a great general, was a prominent Tory politician. The Tories, as the war seemed to be indefinitely prolonged, supplanted (1710) the Whigs, with whom they had been co-operating in the earlier stages of the war, and in 1713 they concluded the war by the unfortunate Treaty of Utrecht. Contemporary literature is much concerned both with the war and the peace.

3. The Succession. When Anne ascended the throne the succession seemed to be safe enough, for she had a numerous family. Nevertheless, her children all died before her, and in 1701 it became necessary to pass the Act of Settlement, a Whig measure by which the crown was conferred upon the House of Hanover. On the death of Anne, in the year 1714, the succession took effect, in spite of the efforts of the Tories, who were anxious to restore the Stuarts. The events of this year 1714 deeply influenced the lives of Addison, Steele, Swift, and many other writers of lesser degree.

The age of Pope intensified the movement that, as we have seen, began after the Restoration. The drift away from poetical passion was more pronounced than ever, the ideals of “wit” and “common sense” were more zealously pursued, and the lyrical note was almost unheard. In its place we find in poetry the overmastering desire for neatness and perspicuity, for edge and point in style, and for correctness in the technique of the popular forms of poetry. These aims received expression in the almost crazy devotion to the heroic couplet, the aptest medium for the purpose. In this type of poetry the supreme master is Pope; yet even the most ardent admirer of Pope must admit his defects as a poet of the passions. Indeed, one of his most competent biographers[147] asserts that “most of his work may be fairly described as rhymed prose, differing from prose not in substance or in tone of feeling, but only in the form of expression.”

Thus the poet who is admitted to be far and away the most important of the age is considered to be largely prosaic. On the other hand, the only other great names of the period—Swift, Addison, Steele, Defoe—are those of prose-writers primarily, and prose-writers of a very high quality.

The main reason for this temporary predominance of prose is hard to discover. One can put it down only to the mysterious ebb and flow, the alternate coming and going, of the spirit of poetry. This alternation is noticeable through all the stages of our literary history, and nowhere is it more distinct than in the century we are discussing. The spirit of poetry was soaring to its culmination in the Elizabethan age; during the era of Dryden it was fluttering to earth; in Pope’s lifetime it was crouching “like veiled lightnings asleep”; but it was soon to arise with new and divine strength.

Some other outstanding conditions of the age remain to be considered. Most of them, it will be noticed, help to give prose its dominating position.

1. Political Writing. We have already noticed the rise of the two political parties, accompanied by an increased acerbity of political passion. This development gave a fresh importance to men of literary ability, for both parties competed for the assistance of their pens, bribed the authors with places and pensions (or promises of them), and admitted them more or less deeply into their counsels. In previous ages authors had had to depend on their patrons, often capricious beings, or upon the length of their subscription lists; they now acquired an independence and an importance that turned the heads of some of them. Hardly a writer of the time is free from the political bias. Swift became a virulent Tory, Addison a tepid Whig; Steele was Whig and Tory in turn. It was indeed the Golden Age of political pamphleteering, and the writers made the most of it.

2. The Clubs and Coffee-houses. Politicians are necessarily gregarious, and the increased activity in politics led to a great addition to the number of political clubs and coffee-houses, which became the foci of fashionable and public life. In the first number of The Tatler Steele announces as a matter of course that the activities of his new journal will be based upon the clubs. “All accounts of Gallantry, Pleasure and Entertainment shall be under the article of White’s Chocolate-House; Poetry under that of Will’s Coffee-House; Learning under the title of Grecian; Foreign and Domestic News you will have from Saint James’ Coffee-House.” These coffee-houses became the “clearing-houses” for literary business, and from them branched purely literary associations such as the famous Scriblerus and Kit-Cat Clubs, those haunts of the fashionable writers which figure so prominently in the writings of the period.

3. Periodical Writing. The development of the periodical will be noticed elsewhere (see pp. 267–8). It is sufficient here to point out that the struggle for political mastery led both factions to issue a swarm of Examiners, Guardians, Freeholders, and similar publications. These journals were run by a band of vigorous and facile prose-writers, who in their differing degrees of excellence represent almost a new type in our literature.

4. The New Publishing Houses. The interest in politics, and probably the decline in the drama, caused a great increase in the size of the reading public. In its turn this aroused the activities of a number of men who became the forerunners of the modern publishing houses. Such were Edmund Curll (1675–1747), Jacob Tonson (1656–1736), and John Dunton (1659–1733). These men employed numbers of needy writers, who produced the translations, adaptations, and other popular works of the time. It is unwise to judge a publisher by what authors say of him, but the universal condemnation leveled against Curll and his kind compels the belief that they were a breed of scoundrels who preyed upon authors and public, and (what is more remarkable) upon one another. The miserable race of hack-writers—venomously attacked by Pope in The Dunciad—who existed on the scanty bounty of such men lived largely in a thoroughfare near Moorfields called Grub Street, the name of which has become synonymous with literary drudgery.

5. The New Morality. The immorality of the Restoration, which had been almost entirely a Court phenomenon and was largely the reaction against extreme Puritanism, soon spent itself. The natural process of time was hastened by opinion in high quarters. William III was a severe moralist, and Anne, his successor, was of the same character. Thus we soon see a new tone in the writing of the time, and a new attitude to life and morals. Addison, in an early number of The Spectator, puts the new fashion in his own admirable way: “I shall endeavour to enliven morality with wit, and to temper wit with morality.” Another development of the same spirit is seen in the revised opinion of women, who are treated with new respect and dignity. Much coarseness is still to be felt, especially in satirical writing, in which Swift, for instance, can be quite vile; but the general upward tendency is undoubtedly there.

1. His Life. Swift was born in Dublin, and, though both his parents were English, his connection with Ireland was to be maintained more or less closely till the day he died. His father dying before Jonathan’s birth, the boy was thrown upon the charity of an uncle, who paid for his education in Ireland. He seems to have been very wretched both at his school at Kilkenny and at Trinity College, Dublin, where his experiences went to confirm in him that savage melancholia that was to endure all his life. Much of this distemper was due to purely physical causes, for he suffered from an affection of the ear that ultimately touched his brain and caused insanity. In 1686, at the age of nineteen, he left Trinity College (it is said in disgrace), and in 1689 entered the household of his famous kinsman Sir William Temple, under whose encouragement he took holy orders, and on the death of Temple in 1699 obtained other secretarial and ecclesiastical appointments. His real chance came in 1710, when the Tories overthrew the Marlborough faction and came into office. To them Swift devoted the gigantic powers of his pen, became a political star of some magnitude, and, after the manner of the time, hoped for substantial rewards. He might have become a bishop, but it is said that Queen Anne objected to the vigor of his early writings; and in the wreck of the Tory party in 1715 all he could save was the Deanery of St. Patrick’s, in Dublin. An embittered man, he spent the last thirty years of his life in gloom, and largely in retirement. He was involved in obscure but not dishonorable philanderings with Esther Johnson (Stella) and Esther Vanhomrigh (Vanessa), whose names figure prominently in his personal writings. His last years were passed in silence and lunacy, and he expired (in Johnson’s words) “a driveller and a show.”

2. His Poetry. Swift would have been among the first to smile at any claim being advanced for him on the score of his being a great poet, yet in bulk his verse is considerable, and in quality it is striking. His poems were to a large extent recreations: odd verses (sometimes humorously doggerel) to his friends; squibs and lampoons on his political and private enemies, including the famous one on Partridge, the quack astrologer; and one longish one, Cadenus and Vanessa (1730), which deals with his fancy for Esther Vanhomrigh. In his poems he is as a rule lighter of touch and more placable in humor than he is in his prose. His favorite meter is the octosyllabic couplet, which he handles with a dexterity that reminds the reader of Butler in Hudibras. He has lapses of taste, when be becomes coarse and vindictive; and sometimes the verse, through mere indifference, is badly strung and colloquially expressed.

The following is from some bitter verses he wrote (1735) on his own death just before the final night of madness descended. Note the fierce misery inadequately screened with savage scorn.

3. His Prose. Almost in one bound Swift attained to a mastery of English prose, and then maintained an astonishing level of excellence. His first noteworthy book was The Battle of the Books, published in 1704. The theme of this work is a well-worn one, being the dispute between ancient and modern authors. At the time Swift wrote it his patron, Sir William Temple, was engaged in the controversy, and Swift’s tract was in support of his kinsman’s views. Swift gives the theme a half allegorical, mock-heroic setting, in which the books in a library at length literally contend with one another. The handling is vigorous and illuminating, and refreshed with many happy remarks and allusions. The famous passage where a bee, accidentally blundering into a spider’s web, argues down the bitter remarks of the spider, is one of Swift’s happiest efforts.

The Tale of a Tub, also published in 1704, though it was written as early as 1696, is regarded by many as Swift’s best work. It certainly reveals his power at its highest. It is a religious allegory, perhaps suggested by the work of Bunyan, on three men: Peter, who stands for the Roman Catholic Church; Jack, who represents the extreme Protestant sects; and Martin, the personification of the Anglican and Lutheran Churches. Each of the three has a coat left to him by his father, and they have many experiences, beginning with the changes that they make on the coats that have been left to them. As a narrative the book soon loses clearness and coherence; but later a ferocious assault is developed by Swift upon Peter and Jack. Martin escapes more lightly than the others, and this is unusually discriminating on the part of the author. The chief interest in the book lies in Swift’s uncanny penetration of intellect, which thrusts itself into all manner of human activities, and also in the weight and blighting scorn of his comment upon those activities. The satire is irresistible. Nothing escapes it; nothing can resist it. When he has finished we feel he has made a wilderness of everything we call sacred and beautiful.

The great strength of Swift’s satiric method lies in its cosmic elemental force. Unlike that of Pope, it is never paltry or mean. It has a terrifying intensity, caused by an aloofness that is inflexible, dominating, and unchallengeable. Yet The Tale of a Tub, while it fully reveals the power that stamps him as a writer of the first rank, throws into prominence the faults that seriously mar his achievement. His satire is too indiscriminate, lashing out at whatever comes in the way, whether it be good or bad. Secondly, it is often violent and revoltingly cruel. Thirdly, it can be coarse and indecent. These flaws, partly the common vices of the time, are likewise the fruit of his mental malady, and they deepen as he grows older.

The following extract shows the suggestiveness of his allegory, the corrosive power of his satire, and his redoubtable style:

The next period of his life (1704–14) was occupied mainly in the composition of political tracts, some of which are of great power. Several of them were written for The Examiner, a Tory journal. They include Remarks on the Barrier Treaty (1712) and The Public Spirit of the Whigs (1714). To this period also belongs the Journal to Stella, which is a kind of informal private log-book written by him and sent regularly to Esther Johnson. It has all Swift’s shrewdness and vivacity, without much of the usual scorn and coarseness. It is not as intimate and revealing as the diary of Pepys, yet it gives us many glimpses of the inner man: vain and arrogant, ambitious and crafty, but none the less a generous and considerate friend and a loyal ally.

During the third period—that of his final stay in Ireland—the shadow deepens. The earlier years produce one of the most compelling efforts of his pen. He supported the Irish in their revolt against “Wood’s halfpence,” writing in their cause his Drapier’s Letters (1724). This gained for him an almost embarrassing popularity. Then followed some miscellaneous political work, and then his longest and most famous book, Gulliver’s Travels (1726). The main idea of this book is an old one, being at least as old as the time of Lucian, a Greek writer of the second century: it deals with imaginary voyages, in Gulliver’s case among the pigmies (Lilliputians), the giants (Brobdingnagians), the moonstruck philosophers (Laputans), and the race of horses, with their human serfs the Yahoos.

Gulliver’s Travels resembles its fellow-allegory The Pilgrim’s Progress in its popularity and human interest; but in temper the two books are worlds apart. Bunyan views human failings with a discerning eye, but he accepts them with a benign quiescence, and with a tempered faith in man’s ultimate redemption. Swift, on the other hand, said to Pope, “I heartily hate and detest that animal called man,” and this book is an elaboration of that attitude. He magnifies man into a giant, and then he diminishes him into a mannikin, and he finds him wicked and insolent and mean; he regards man in his wisdom, and he finds him a fool; in despair, in the last book of the Travels, he turns from man altogether, and in the brute creation he discovers a charity and sagacity before which humanity grovels as a creature beastly beyond measure. The last stages of the book are morbid and revolting to the point of insanity.

The two earlier stages of the Travels have a charm and vivacity that delight old and young. The bitterness of the satire lurks in the allegory, but it is so delicately tinseled over that it does not repel. The crowded incidents are plausible and lively, and they are often spiced with a quaint and alluring humor; his comments upon mankind are shrewd and arresting, as well as satirical, and are yet not brutal nor obscene. The style is Swift’s best: not mannered or labored; clean, powerful, and tireless; easy without being slovenly, and as clear as summer noonday.

1. His Life. Educated at the Charterhouse, Addison went to Oxford, where he became a Fellow of Magdalen College. He early made his mark as a serious and accomplished scholar, and seems to have attracted the notice of the Whig leaders, who marked him out as a future literary prop of their faction. He obtained a traveling scholarship of three hundred pounds a year, and saw much of Europe under favorable conditions. Then the misfortunes of the Whigs in 1703 reduced him to poverty. In 1704, it is said at the instigation of the leaders of the Whigs, he wrote the poem The Campaign, praising the war policy of the Whigs in general and the worthiness of Marlborough in particular. This poem brought him fame and fortune. He obtained many official appointments and pensions, married a dowager countess (1716), and became a Secretary of State (1717). Two years later he died, at the age of forty-seven.

2. His Poetry. In his Latin verses Addison attained early distinction. These verses were highly praised at a time when praise for proficiency in such a medium was of some significance. Then his Campaign in 1704 gave him a reputation as one of the major poets of the age. The poem is poor enough. It is written in the heroic couplet, and with some truth it has been called a “rhymed gazette.” The story is little more than a pompous catalogue of places and persons; the style is but mediocre, and warms only when it is feebly stirred by the ignorant enthusiasm that a sedentary civilian feels for the glory of war. The hero is Marlborough, who is drawn on a scale of epic grandeur. The most famous passage of the work is that comparing the general to the angel that rides the storm. The poem literally made Addison’s fortune; for after reading it the Whig Lord Treasurer Godolphin gave him the valuable appointment of Commissioner of Appeals.

His only other poetical works worthy of notice are his hymns, which are melodious, scholarly, and full of a cheerful piety. The one that begins “The spacious firmament on high” is among the best.

3. His Drama. Addison was lucky in his greatest dramatic effort, just as he was lucky in his longest poem. In 1713 he produced the tragedy of Cato, part of which had been in manuscript as early as 1703. It is of little merit, and shows that Addison, whatever his other qualities may be, is no dramatist. It is written in laborious blank verse, in which wooden characters declaim long, dull speeches. But it caught the ear of the political parties, both of which in the course of the play saw pithy references to the inflamed passions of the time. The play had the remarkable run of thirty-five nights, and was revived with much success. Addison also attempted an opera, Rosamond (1706), which was a failure; and the prose comedy of The Drummer (about 1715) is said, with some reason, to be his also. If it is, it adds nothing to his reputation.

4. His Prose. Several political pamphlets are ascribed to Addison, but as a pamphleteer he is not impressive. He lacked the brutal directness of Swift, whose pen was a terror to his opponents. It is in fact almost entirely as an essayist that Addison is justly famed.

These essays began almost casually. On April 12, 1709, Steele published the first number of The Tatler, a periodical that was to appear thrice weekly. Addison, who was a school and college friend of Steele, saw and liked the new publication, and offered his services as a contributor. His offer was accepted, and his first contribution, a semi-political one, appeared in No. 18. Henceforward Addison wrote regularly for the paper, contributing 42 numbers, which may be compared with Steele’s share of 188. The Tatler finished in January, 1711; then in March of the same year Steele began The Spectator, which was issued daily. The paper had some variations of fortune, price, and time of issue, but eventually it ran until December, 1712; obtained an unprecedented popularity (it was said that in its palmiest days it sold ten thousand copies of each issue), and exercised a great influence upon the reading public of the period. In The Spectator Addison rapidly became the dominating spirit, wrote 274 essays out of a complete total of 555, and wholly shaped its policy when Steele tired of the project. Steele wrote 236 essays. In March, 1713, Addison assisted Steele with The Guardian, which Steele began. It was only a moderate success, and terminated after 175 numbers, Addison contributing 53.

In all, we thus have from Addison’s pen nearly four hundred essays, which are of nearly uniform length, of almost unvarying excellence of style, and of a wide diversity of subject. He set out to be a mild censor of the morals of the time, and most of his compositions deal with topical subjects—fashions, headdresses, practical jokes, polite conversation. Deeper themes were handled in a popular and sketchy fashion—immorality, jealousy, prayer, death, and drunkenness. Politics were touched, but gingerly. Sometimes he adopted the allegory as a means of throwing his ideas vividly before his readers; and so we have the popular Vision of Mirza and the political allegory of Public Credit. Literary criticism, of a mild and cautious kind, found a prominent place in the essays, as well as many half-personal, half-jocular editorial communications to the readers. And, lastly, there was the famous series dealing with the Spectator Club.

It is certain that Steele first hit on the idea of Sir Roger de Coverley, an imaginary eccentric old country knight who frequented the Spectator Club in London. Around the knight were grouped a number of contrasted characters, also members of the mythical club. Such were Will Honeycomb, a middle-aged beau; Sir Andrew Freeport, a city merchant; Captain Sentry, a soldier; and Mr. Spectator, a shy, reticent person, who bears a resemblance to Addison himself. Addison seized upon the idea of the club; gave it life, interest, and adventure; cast over it the charm of his pleasantly sub-acid humor; and finished up by making the knight die with affecting deliberation and decorum. Sandwiched between essays on other topics, this series appeared at intervals in the pages of The Spectator, and added immensely to the popularity of the journal. In literature it has an added value. If Addison had pinned the Coverley papers together with a stronger plot; if, instead of only referring to the widow who had stolen the knight’s affections, he had introduced a definite love-theme; if he had introduced some important female characters, we should have had the first regular novel in our tongue. As it is, this essay-series brings us within measurable distance of the genuine eighteenth-century novel.

We give an extract to illustrate both his humor and his style. His humor is of a rare order. It is delicate, almost furtive; sometimes it nearly descends to a snigger, but it seldom reveals anything that is not gentlemanly, tolerant, and urbane. To Swift, with his virile mind, such a temper seemed effeminate and priggish. “I will not meddle with The Spectator,” he wrote to Stella; “let him fair sex it to the world’s end.”

His style has often been deservedly praised. It is the pattern of the middle style, never slipshod, or obscure, or unmelodious. He has an infallible instinct for the proper word, and an infallible ear for a subdued and graceful rhythm. In this fashion his prose moves with a demure and pleasing grace, in harmony with his subject, with his object, and with himself.

1. His Life. Steele had a varied and rather an unfortunate career, due largely to his own ardent disposition. Like Addison, he was educated at the Charterhouse, and then proceeded to Oxford, leaving without taking a degree. His next exploit was to enter the army as a cadet; then he took to politics, became a member of Parliament, and wrote for the Whigs. Steele, however, was too impetuous to be a successful politician, and he was expelled from the House of Commons. He became a Tory; quarreled with Addison on private and public grounds; issued a number of periodicals; and died ten years after his fellow-essayist.

2. His Drama. Steele wrote some prose comedies, the best of which are The Funeral (1701), The Lying Lover (1703), The Tender Husband (1705), and The Conscious Lovers (1722). They follow in general scheme the Restoration comedies, but are without the grossness and impudence of their models. They have, indeed, been criticized as being too moral; yet in places they are lively, and reflect much of Steele’s amiability of temper.

3. His Essays. It is as a miscellaneous essayist that Steele finds his place in literature. He was a man fertile in ideas, but he lacked the application that is always so necessary to carry those ideas to fruition. Thus he often sowed in order that other men might reap. He started The Tatler in 1709, The Spectator in 1711, and several other short-lived periodicals, such as The Guardian (1713), The Reader (1714), The Englishman (1715), and The Plebeian (1718). After the rupture with Addison the loss of the latter’s steadying influence was acutely felt, and nothing that Steele attempted had any stability.

Steele’s working alliance with Addison was so close and so constant that the comparison between them is almost inevitable. Of the two writers, some critics assert that Steele is the worthier. In versatility and in originality he is at least Addison’s equal. His humor has none of Addison’s simpering prudishness; it is broader and less restrained, with a naïve, pathetic touch about it that is reminiscent of Goldsmith. His pathos is more attractive and more humane. But Steele’s very virtues are only his weaknesses sublimed; they are emotional, not intellectual; of the heart, and not of the head. He is incapable of irony; he lacks penetration and power; and much of his moralizing is cheap and obvious. He lacks Addison’s care and suave ironic insight; he is reckless in style and inconsequent in method. And so, in the final estimate, as the greater artist he fails.

The passage given illustrates Steele’s easy style, the unconstrained sentences, the fresh and almost colloquial vocabulary, and the genial humor.

1. His Life. Much of Defoe’s life is still undetermined, but it is certain that he was born, lived, and died in poor and somewhat disreputable circumstances. He was born in London, became a soldier, and then took to journalism. He is one of the earliest, and in some ways the greatest, of the Grub Street hacks. He entered the service of the Whigs, by whom he was frequently employed in obscure and questionable work. He died in London, a fugitive from the law, and in great distress.

2. His Prose. This is of amazing bulk and variety, and for convenience can be divided into two groups.

(a) Political Writings. Like most of the other writers of his time, Defoe turned out a mass of political tracts and pamphlets. Many of them appeared in his own journal, The Review, which, issued in 1704, is in several ways the forerunner of The Tatler and The Spectator. His Shortest Way with the Dissenters (1702) brought upon him official wrath, and caused him to be fined and pilloried. He wrote one or two of his political tracts in rough verses which are more remarkable for their vigor than for their elegance. The best known of this class is The True-born Englishman (1701). In all his propaganda Defoe is vigorous and acute, and he has a fair command of irony and invective.

(b) His Fiction. His works in fiction were all produced in the latter part of his life, at almost incredible speed. First came Robinson Crusoe (1719); then Duncan Campbell, Memoirs of a Cavalier, and Captain Singleton, all three books in 1720; in 1722 appeared Moll Flanders, A Journal of the Plague Year, and Colonel Jack; then Roxana (1724) and A New Voyage round the World (1725).

This great body of fiction has grave defects, largely due to the immense speed with which it was produced. The general plan of the novel in each case is slatternly and unequal; as, for example, in Robinson Crusoe, where the incomparable effect of the story of the island is marred by long and sometimes tedious narratives of other lands. Then the style is unpolished to the verge of rudeness. In homely and direct narrative this may not be a grave drawback, but it shuts Defoe out from a large province of fiction in which he might have done valuable work.

But at its best, as in the finest parts of Robinson Crusoe, his writing has a realism that is rarely approached by the most ardent of modern realists. This is achieved by Defoe’s grasp of details and his unerring sense of their supreme literary value, a swift and resolute narrative method, and a plain and matter-of-fact style that inevitably lays incredulity asleep. To the development of the novel Defoe’s contribution is priceless.

In the passage now given note Defoe’s completely unadorned style, the loosely constructed sentences, and the almost laughable attention to the minutest detail:

1. John Arbuthnot (1667–1735). Arbuthnot was born in Kincardineshire, Scotland, studied medicine at Oxford, and spent the latter part of his life in London, where he became acquainted with Pope and Swift. His writings are chiefly political, and include the Memoirs of Scriblerus (1709), which, though published in the works of Pope, is thought to be his; The History of John Bull (1712 or 1713), ridiculing the war-policy of the Whigs; and The Art of Political Lying (1712).

Arbuthnot writes with wit and vivacity, and with many pointed allusions. At his best he somewhat resembles Swift, though he lacks the great devouring flame of the latter’s personality.

2. Lord Bolingbroke (1678–1751). Henry St. John, Viscount Bolingbroke, was one of the chief political figures of the period. At the age of twenty-six he was Secretary for War in the Tory Government; was thereafter implicated in Jacobite plots; was compelled to flee to France; was pardoned, and permitted to return to England in 1723; had once more to return to France in 1735; then, after seven years’ exile, was finally restored to his native land.

Bolingbroke prided himself on being both a patron of letters and a man of letters. He influenced Pope, not always to the latter’s advantage. In 1753 appeared his Letter to Windham (written in 1717); then in 1749 he produced Letters on the Spirit of Patriotism and The Idea of a Patriot King. These reflect the Tory sentiments of their author, are written with a vigor that is often near to coarseness, and have all the tricks and vices of the rhetorician.

3. George Berkeley (1685–1753). Born in Ireland, Berkeley was educated at Dublin, where he distinguished himself in mathematics. Taking holy orders, he went to London (1713), and became acquainted with Swift and other wits. He was a man of noble and charitable mind, and interested himself in many worthy schemes. He was appointed a dean, and then was made Bishop of Cloyne in 1734. He was a man of great and enterprising mind, and wrote with much charm on a diversity of scientific, philosophical, and metaphysical subjects.

Among his books are The Principles of Human Knowledge, a notable effort in the study of the human mind that appeared in 1710, Dialogues of Hylas and Philonous (1713), and Alciphron, or the Minute Philosopher (1733). He is among the first, both in time and in quality, of the English philosophers who have dressed their ideas in language of literary distinction. He writes with delightful ease, disdaining ornament or affectation, and his command of gentle irony is capable and sure.

4. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689–1762). This lady, famous in her day for her masculine force of character, was the eldest daughter of the Duke of Kingston. In 1712 she married Edward Wortley Montagu, and moved in the highest literary and social circles. In 1716 her husband was appointed ambassador at Constantinople, and while she was in the East she corresponded regularly with many friends, both literary and personal. She is the precursor of the great letter-writers of the later portion of the century. Her Letters are written shrewdly and sensibly, often with a frankness that is a little staggering. She had a vivid interest in her world, and to a certain extent she can communicate her interest to her reader.

5. Earl of Shaftesbury (1671–1713). Anthony Ashley Cooper, third Earl of Shaftesbury, is another example of the aristocratic dilettante man of letters. He had little taste for the politics of the time, and aspired to be famous as a great writer. He traveled much, and died at Naples in 1713.

His books are written with great care and exactitude, and are pleasant and lucid without being particularly striking. His Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, and Times (1716), though it contains nothing very original or profound, suited the taste of the time and was widely popular. Pope drew upon it for much of his matter in his Essay on Man.

1. His Life. Pope was born in London, the only child of a considerable city tradesman. From his birth two conditions were to influence very deeply the career of the future poet: first, he was puny and delicate, and, secondly, he was baptized into the Roman Catholic faith. His bodily infirmity, which amounted almost to deformity, caused him to be privately educated; and to the end of his life his knowledge had that extensive range, joined to the liability to make the grossest blunders, which is so often the mark of an eager and precocious intelligence imperfectly trained. Pope’s religious faith, though he was never excessively devout as a Roman Catholic, closed to him all the careers, professional and political, in which a man of his keen intelligence might have been expected to succeed. He was thus forced into the pursuit of letters as his only road to fame. From his earliest youth we find him passionately desirous of making his name as an author.

His youth was passed at Binfield, his father’s small estate near Windsor Forest. Before he was twenty years old he got into touch with Wycherley, now old and besotted. Through him Pope became acquainted with Addison, Swift, and Steele, whose friendship he eagerly cultivated. His early verses, admirably attuned to the ear of the age, brought him recognition and applause; his translation of Homer brought him wealth; and from that point he never looked back. He became the dominating poetical personality of the day. In 1718 he removed to his house at Twickenham, whose pinchbeck beauties became the wonder, envy, and derision of literary and social London. It remained his home till “that long disease, his life,” was finished in 1744.

2. His Character. In this book it is fortunately seldom that we are called upon to analyze the character of an English writer in any detail, but in the case of Pope it is necessary. With no man more than Pope are such personal considerations relevant and cogent; for in no writings more than in Pope’s do we find the author’s vices and his weaknesses—as well as his virtues—so fully portrayed.

By the time he was thirty Pope’s hands were full of the gifts of fortune, but he was far from being happy. He was so easily stung that his numerous detractors were irresistibly impelled to sting him; and his agonies, his vicious petulance, and his wild retaliation were so pathetic and yet so ludicrous that his foes were incited to try his temper again. Hence much of Pope’s life was a series of skirmishes with friends and foes alike. His disposition, too, had so many flaws that it trembled at the pressure of a finger. His stinginess, though he was rich beyond the dreams of a poet’s avarice, was a byword. His snobbishness was extreme; he fawned before lords, and he assailed his less fortunate poetical brethren with a rancor whose very coarseness blunts its edge. His vanity was egregious, and shrank from criticism as a raw nerve shrinks from fire. His nature stooped to actions so tortuous and reprehensible that his biographers confess, with a sigh of relief, that they cannot get quite to the bottom of them. His procedure in the publication of some of his work almost stupefies the investigator with its combination of duplicity, bad faith, and sheer cross-grained perversion of the truth.

Yet he had his virtues, to which his friends testified with a curious half-laughing mixture of contempt and admiration. He could sometimes be generous in a crabbed, distorted fashion; and if only his friends allowed for his weaknesses, he repaid their consideration with a devoted cordiality that defied the shocks of fortune. At bottom his nature was not unkindly, but it was corroded and overlaid with the effects of his physical weakness, with his natural vanity, and with a shrinking self-criticism. And, above all, he was an artist. He lived for his art; everything he wrote was stamped with the joy of creation and his desire for perfection and permanency; and it is as an artist that he will finally be judged.

3. His Poetry. “I lisped in numbers,” he tells us. But his earliest work of any importance is his Pastorals. According to his own statement (which need not be believed) they were begun when he was sixteen years old. They appeared in 1709, when he was twenty-one. They contain the usual trumpery of “sylvan strains,” “warbling Philomel,” and other expressions that are the bane of the artificial pastoral. Yet though the work is immature in some respects, it shows that Pope has found his feet with regard to his metrical method. The poem is written in the heroic couplet, which is neat, effective, and melodious in a namby-pamby fashion. We give a specimen of his earliest numbers:

In 1711 appeared the Essay on Criticism, also written in heroic couplets. The poem professes to set forth the gospel of “wit” and “nature” as it applies to the literature of the period. The work is clearly immature. There is nothing novel in its theories, which are conventionality itself; but it dresses the aged theories so neatly and freshly that the poem is a lasting monument to the genius of the writer. It is full of apt, quotable lines that have become imbedded in the language:

Windsor Forest (1713) is another pastoral in the familiar meter. Artificial still, it nevertheless shows a broader treatment, and a still stronger grip of the stopped couplet.

By this time Pope was well known, and he set about his ambitious scheme of translating the Iliad, which was eventually issued in 1720. For the book, as he was zealously assisted by his literary friends, he was successful in compiling a phenomenal subscription list, which (with the additional translation of the Odyssey) brought him more than ten thousand pounds. Such a triumph produced the inevitable reaction on the part of his critics, who maintained that Pope knew little Latin and less Greek, and that the translation was no translation at all. It certainly bears no close resemblance to the original Greek. Bentley, the famous classical scholar, remarked to the chagrined author, “A pretty poem, Mr. Pope, but you must not call it Homer.” The line of Pope has none of the great lift of the Homeric line, but it is often vigorous and picturesque, and answers with fair facility to the demands he makes upon it.

In 1712, in a volume of Lintot’s Miscellanies, appeared The Rape of the Lock, one of the most brilliant poems in the language. The occasion of it was trivial enough. A Lord Petre had offended a Miss Fermor by cutting off a lock of her hair; dissensions between the families had followed, and Pope set about to laugh both parties back into good-humor. He makes of the incident a mock-heroic poem, and, rather unwisely, invents elaborate machinery of sylphs, gnomes, and other airy beings that take part in the mortals’ misdemeanors. The length becomes disproportionate to the theme, but the effect is quite dazzling. The style is highly artificial and mannered; but we must remember that Pope is jocular all through, and that he is purposely pitching his style as high as the subject permits. It abounds in rhetorical devices, such as climax, antithesis, and apostrophe. The effect produced is like that of a crackle of colored fireworks; smart epigrams explode in almost every line, and conceits dazzle with their brilliance. Yet so great an artist is Pope that by sheer skill he prevents the work from being flashy or vulgar: the workmanship is too delicate and precise.

The Dunciad appeared in 1728, with many subterfuges to conceal the authorship, and it reappeared in a larger, though not in an improved form, in 1742. In this poem he turns to rend the host of minor writers who had been making his life a misery with their pin-pricks. It shows his satirical powers at their best and at their worst. It is charged with a stinging wit, but is too spiteful and venomous, and confounds the good with the bad. Yet here as elsewhere Pope has many fine passages. The conclusion is probably the noblest that he ever composed:

The last years of his life were occupied chiefly in the composition of poetical epistles and satires (1731–35). Some of these are of great power, and show Pope’s art at its best. The Epistle to Arbuthnot contains the famous satirical portrait of Addison, with whom Pope had quarreled:

In this passage, though he does not perceive it, Pope is holding up a glass to his own method. Observe how he “damns with faint praise”; how he is “willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike.” Nearly the whole extract might be applied to its author.

The last considerable poem is the Essay on Man (1734), which owes much to the suggestions of Bolingbroke. At the beginning of the poem he says “The proper study of mankind is man,” and then proceeds with a long and confused treatment of man and his place in the universe. As a contribution to philosophy it is contemptible, but from it we can detach clusters of passages full of force and beauty. The verse has all its author’s care and lucidity. In some places, indeed, the style is cut to the very bone, as it is in the well-known line, “Man never is but always to be blessed.”

4. His Prose. As a writer of prose Pope is of secondary importance. His Letters, published under a cloud of devious tricks, clearly are written with an eye on the public. They are addressed chiefly to notable persons, such as Swift and Gay, and consist of pompous essays upon abstract subjects. Sometimes in other letters he forgets himself, and writes easily and brightly, especially when he is telling of his own experiences.

5. Summary. It is now useful to draw together the various features of the work of this important poet.

(a) Both in subject and in style his poems are limited. They take people of his own social class, and they deal with their common experiences and their common interests and aspirations. Pope rarely dips below the surface, and when he does so he is not at his best. With regard to his style, we have seen that it is almost wholly restricted to the heroic couplet, used in a narrative and didactic subject. He is almost devoid of the lyrical faculty, and the higher artistic emotions—“passion and apathy, and glory and shame”—are beyond his artistic grasp.

(b) Within these limits his work is powerful and effective. The wit is keen; the satire burns like acid; and his zeal is unshakable. In serious topics, as in the Essay on Man, he can give imperishable shape to popular opinions.

(c) His work is careful and almost fastidious, and thus confers an enormous benefit upon English poetry. He cured poetry of the haphazard methods of the earlier ages. With inspiration lacking, care was more than ever necessary, and in this Pope led the way. His verse reads so easily owing to the great care he took with it.

(d) His meter is among the most discussed in our literature. Its merits and demerits are quite clear to view. Against it we can urge its artificiality, its lack of originality, and the vile creeping paralysis that it communicated to the other metrical forms. Yet in its favor we must recognize its strength, unbreakable and pliable, like a strong bow, its clearness, point, and artistic brevity, and its incomparable excellence in some forms of satire and narrative. It is unprofitable to compare it with blank verse and other forms. We must recognize it as in a class apart.

1. Matthew Prior (1664–1721). Born in Dorsetshire, Prior studied at Cambridge, and was early engaged in writing on behalf of the Tories, from whom he received several valuable appointments. In 1701 he entered the House of Commons; and in 1715, becoming involved in Jacobite intrigues, he was imprisoned. He was liberated in 1717, and died in 1721.

His first long work is The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse (1687), written in collaboration with Charles Montagu, and ridiculing The Hind and the Panther. Other longer works are Alma (1716) and Solomon (1718). The first imitates Butler in Hudibras, and with fair success; the second, written in the heroic couplet, aims at being a serious poem, but its seriousness is often marred with levity, and it shows no wisdom or insight.

Prior’s chief distinction lies in his miscellaneous verse, which is varied, bulky, and of a high quality. In some respects it resembles the verses of Swift, for much of it is composed in the octosyllabic couplet, and it has a fair amount of Swift’s force and dexterity. Prior lacks Swift’s deadly power and passion, but he surpasses the Dean in versatility, in an easy wit and impudence, and in sentimentality. In this pleasant ease of verse and sentiment he is rarely approached. Some of the best of his shorter pieces are The Chameleon, The Thief and the Cordelier, and To Chloe.

2. John Gay (1685–1732). Gay was born in humble circumstances, and was apprenticed to a silk-mercer; but, being ambitious, he entered the service of the Duchess of Monmouth (1713). His poems having brought him some fame, he sought a public appointment. He was only moderately successful in this search, and his lazy and indifferent habits spoiled the chances that came in his way. He died in London, an amiable and shiftless idler.

His chief works are Rural Sports (1713), written in the heroic couplet, and resembling Pope’s Pastorals, The Shepherd’s Week (1714), and What d’Ye Call it? (1715), a pastoral farce. Trivia, or The Art of Walking the Streets of London (1715) is a witty parody of the heroic style, and it contains bright descriptions of London streets; then came two plays, Acis and Galatea and The Beggar’s Opera (1728). This last play had a great success, which has lasted to the present day. It became the rage, and ran for sixty-two performances. It deserved its success, for it contains some pretty songs and much genuine though boisterous humor. Gay had the real lyrical gift, which was all the more valuable considering the age he lived in. His ballad Black-eyed Susan is still popular.

3. Edward Young (1683–1765). Young had a long life, and produced a large amount of literary work of variable quality. He was born in Hampshire, went to Oxford, and late in life (about 1730) entered the Church. He lived much in retirement, though in his later years he received a public appointment.

His major works are The Last Day (1713) and The Force of Religion (1714), which are moralizings written in the heroic couplet; The Love of Fame (1724), which shows an advance in the use of the couplet; and a poem in blank verse, The Complaint, or Night Thoughts (1742). This last poem, which was inspired by the death of his wife, had a great and long-enduring popularity, which has now vanished. Like Young’s other poems, it shows some power of expression and somber satisfaction at his own misery. In the history of literature it is of some consequence, for the blank verse is of considerable strength, and as a reaction against the dominance of the couplet its value is undeniable.

4. Sir Samuel Garth (1661–1719). Garth was an older man than most of the other poets mentioned in this chapter. He was a popular physician, assisted Pope in the young man’s first efforts, and was knighted when George I ascended the throne.

The Dispensary, published in 1699, is the one work which gives him his place. It deals with a long-defunct squabble between physicians and apothecaries, and its importance is due to its being written in a kind of heroic couplet that is a link in style between Dryden and Pope.

5. Richard Savage (1697–1743). Savage’s melancholy fate, and his early friendship with Johnson, have given him a prominence that he scarcely deserves. He was born in London, and, according to his own story, was the child of Richard Savage, Earl Rivers. Savage passed his youth in miserable circumstances, took to hack-work with the publishers, besotted himself with drink and debauchery, and died in a debtor’s prison in Bristol.

His two chief poems are The Bastard (1728) and The Wanderer (1729). Both are written in the heroic couplet, and consist of long frenzied moralizings of his own unhappy lot. These works have much energy and some power of expression, but they are diffuse and rhetorical in style. Savage cannot rid himself of his personal grievances, which, inflamed by his dissipations, produce a morbid extravagance that ruins his work as poetry.

6. Lady Winchilsea (1661–1720). Born in Hampshire, the daughter of Sir William Kingsmill, Anne, Countess of Winchilsea, passed most of her life in London, where she became acquainted with Pope and other literary notables. Some of her poems, which were of importance in their day, are The Spleen (1701), a Pindaric ode; The Prodigy (1706); and Miscellany Poems (1714), containing the Nocturnal Reverie.

Wordsworth says, “It is remarkable that, excepting the Nocturnal Reverie and a passage or two in Windsor Forest of Pope, the poetry of the period intervening between the publication of Paradise Lost and The Seasons does not contain a single new image of nature.” This statement is perhaps an exaggeration, but there is no doubt that Lady Winchilsea had the gift of producing smooth and melodious verse, and she had a discerning eye for the beauties of nature.

7. Ambrose Philips (1675–1749). Philips was a Shropshire man, was educated at Cambridge, and became a considerable figure in the literary world. He was a friend of Pope, and wrote Pastorals (1709), which Pope damned with faint praise. The two poets quarreled, and Pope gave the other immortality in The Dunciad. Philips obtained several posts under the Government, and passed a happy and prosperous life.

He wrote three tragedies, the best of which is The Distressed Mother (1712). He produced a fair amount of prose for the periodicals, and his miscellaneous verse, of a light and agreeable kind, was popular in its day. His poetry was called “namby-pamby,” from his Christian name; and the word has survived in its general application.

8. Sir Richard Blackmore (1650–1729). Blackmore was an industrious physician, and an industrious and unsuccessful poet. His name became a byword by reason of his huge, dreary epics, which he composed in his spare time. Some of them are Prince Arthur (1695), Job (1700), and The Creation (1712). They are written in tolerable heroic couplets.

9. Thomas Parnell (1679–1718). Parnell was born in Ireland, entered the Church, became an archdeacon, and prospered in his post. His poems consist of miscellaneous work, and were extremely popular in their day. The best of his work is contained in The Hermit (1710), which is written in heroic couplets, and in places reminds the reader of The Deserted Village. He shows skill as a versifier, and he has a genuine regard for nature.

10. Allan Ramsay (1686–1758). Born in Lanarkshire, Ramsay came to Edinburgh at the age of fifteen, and became a wig-maker. He soon took to writing verses, which admitted him into the society of the Edinburgh wits. He started a bookseller’s shop in the city, and became a kind of local unofficial Poet Laureate. His ballads became very popular, and he brought upon himself the notice of the leaders of the literary world in London.

Ramsay published much miscellaneous writing, of which a large amount was issued to satisfy a passing demand. The quality can be poor enough; but some of it is more meritorious. A piece like Lochaber No More is quite noteworthy, and others reveal his freakish and pleasing sense of humor. His Gentle Shepherd (1725), a pastoral drama, has many of the vices of its species; but on the other hand it contains pleasing natural descriptions, some delightful though sentimental characters, and a few charming lyrics. As a literary ancestor of Burns, Ramsay is important. He influenced the poetry of the Ayrshire man, who freely acknowledged the aid he obtained. Ramsay also shows how the natural genius of Scotland, while bowing to the supremacy of the school of Pope, nevertheless diverged on lines natural to itself.

The period under review marks a hardening of the process discernible in the last chapter. The secession from romanticism is complete; the ideals of classicism reign supreme. Yet so unsleeping is the sense of progress in our literature that, even at the lowest ebb of the romantic spirit, a return to nature is feebly beginning. In the next chapter we shall notice this new movement, for in the next period we shall see it becoming full and strong.

1. Poetry. In no department of literature is the triumph of classicism seen more fully than in poetry.

(a) The lyric almost disappears. What remains is of a light and artificial nature. The best lyrics are found in some of Prior’s shorter pieces, in Gay’s Beggar’s Opera, and in Ramsay’s Gentle Shepherd.

(b) The ode still feebly survives in the Pindaric form. Pope wrote a few with poor success, one of them being On St. Cecilia’s Day, in imitation of Dryden’s ode. Lady Winchilsea was another mediocre exponent of the same form.

(c) The satiric type is common, and of high quality. The best example is Pope’s Dunciad, a personal satire. Of political satire in poetry we have nothing to compare with Dryden’s. Satire tends to be lighter, brighter, and more cynical. It is spreading to other forms of verse besides the heroic couplet, and we can observe it in the octosyllabic couplet in the poems of Swift, Prior, and Gay. A slight development is the epistolary form of the satire, of which Pope became fond in his latter years. Such is his Epistles of Horace Imitated.

(d) Narrative Poetry. This is of considerable bulk, and contains some of the best productions of the period. Pope’s translation of Homer is a good example, and of the poorer sort are Blackmore’s abundant epics. We have also to notice a slight revival of the ballad, which was imitated by Gay and Prior. Their imitations are bloodless things, but they are worth noticing because they show that the interest is there.

(e) The Pastoral. The artificial type of the pastoral was highly popular, for several reasons. It gave an air of rusticity to the most formal of compositions; it was thought to be elegant; it was easily written; and it had the approval of the ancients, who made free use of the type. Pope and Philips have been mentioned as examples of the pastoral poets.

2. Drama. Here there is almost a blank. The brilliant and exotic flower of Restoration comedy has withered, and nothing of any merit takes its place. In tragedy Addison’s Cato is almost the only passable example. In comedy Steele’s plays are an expurgated survival of the Restoration type. The only advance in the drama is shown in The Beggar’s Opera, whose robust vitality, sprightly music, and charming songs make it stand alone in its generation.

3. Prose. In prose we have to chronicle a distinct advance. For the first time we have periodical literature occupying a prominent place in the writing of the time. At this point, therefore, it is convenient to summarize the rise of periodical literature.

(a) The Rise of the Periodical Press. The first periodical published in Europe was the Gazetta (1536), in Venice. This was a manuscript newspaper which was read publicly in order to give the Venetians information regarding their war with the Turks. In England news-sheets were published during the reign of Elizabeth, but they were irregular in their appearance, being issued only when some notable event, such as a great flood or fire, made their sale secure. The first regular English paper was The Weekly Newes (1622), issued by Nathaniel Butter. The sheet contained some items of news from abroad, and was devoid of editorial comment or literary matter.

During the Civil War of the middle of the seventeenth century both Royalists and Roundheads issued their newspapers, which appeared spasmodically and seldom survived for any length of time. A Royalist journal was the Mercurius Anglicus, which was succeeded by several others of somewhat similar names. The Roundhead publications were the Mercurius Pragmaticus, the Mercurius Politicus, and others. After the Restoration newspaper-writing became so popular and so troublesome that the Government in 1662 suspended all private sheets and issued in their place the one official organ, The Public Intelligencer. This became The Oxford Gazette (1665), and finally The London Gazette (1666). The office of Gazetteer became an official appointment, and Steele held it for a time.

In 1682 the freedom of the Press was restored, and large numbers of Mercuries and other periodicals appeared and flourished in their different fashions. Advertisements began to be a feature of the papers. In The Jockey’s Intelligencer (1683) the charge is “a shilling for a horse or coach, for notification, and sixpence for renewing.” In 1702 The Daily Courant, the first daily newspaper, was published, and it survived until 1735. Then in the early years of the eighteenth century the fierce contests between the Whigs and the Tories brought a rapid expansion of the Press. The most famous of the issues were Defoe’s Review (1704), a Whig organ whose writings brought its editor into disrepute; and its opponent The Examiner, the Tory paper to which men like Swift and Prior contributed regularly. These newspapers are almost entirely political, but they contain satirical work of much merit.

Then in 1709 Steele published The Tatler. At first it was Steele’s intention to make it entirely a news-paper; but under the pressure of his own genius and of that of Addison its literary features were accentuated till the daily essay became the feature of leading interest. The Spectator, begun in March, 1711, carried the tendency still farther. The literary journal has come to stay. Steele’s Plebeian (1718) is an early example of the political periodical.

(b) The Rise of the Essay. Johnson defines an essay as “a loose sally of the mind, an irregular indigested piece, not a regular or orderly performance.” This definition is not quite complete, for it does not cover such an elaborate work as Locke’s Essay concerning Human Understanding. But for the miscellaneous prose essay, which it is our immediate business to consider here, the definition will do. An essay, therefore, must in other words be short, unmethodical, personal, and written in a style that is literary, easy, and elegant.

The English essay has its roots in the Elizabethan period, in the miscellaneous work of Lodge, Lyly, and Greene, and other literary free-lances (see p. 142). Sir Philip Sidney’s Apologie for Poetrie, published about 1580, is a pamphlet that attains a rudimentary essay-form. But the first real essayist in English is Francis Bacon (1561–1626), who published a short series of essays in 1597, enlarged in two later editions (1612 and 1625). His work follows that of the French writer Montaigne, whose essays appeared about 1580. In Bacon we have the miscellany of theme and the brevity, but we lack the intimacy of treatment and of style. Bacon’s essays are rather the disconnected musings of the philosopher than the personal opinions of the literary executant.

The defects of Bacon were remedied by Abraham Cowley (1618–67), who writes on such subjects as Myself, The Garden, and other familiar themes. His style is somewhat heavy, but he has a pleasant discursive manner, different from the dry and distant attitude of Bacon. He provides the link between Addison and Bacon. Another advance is marked by a group of character-writers who flourished in the first half of the seventeenth century. They gave short character-sketches, often very acute and humorous, of various types of people. The best known of such writers are Joseph Hall (1574–1656), John Earle (1601–65), and Sir Thomas Overbury (1581–1613). Overbury wrote short accounts of such types as the Tinker, the Milkmaid, and the Franklin. His sketches are short, are pithily expressed, and reveal considerable knowledge and insight.

During the Restoration period we have Dryden’s Essay of Dramatic Poesie (1666), Locke’s Essay concerning Human Understanding (1690), and Temple’s Essay on Poetry (1685). The two first works are too long to be called essays proper, and fall rather under the name of treatises. Temple’s essay, one of many that he published, is rather long and formal, but it is nearer the type we are here considering.

With the development of the periodical press the short essay takes a great stride forward. It becomes varied, and acquires character, suppleness, and strength. The work of Addison and Steele has already been noticed at some length. In The Tatler (1709) and The Spectator (1711) they laid down the lines along which the essay was to be developed by their great successors. Other essayists of the time were Swift and Pope, who contributed to the periodicals, and Defoe, whose miscellaneous work is of wide range and of considerable importance.

(c) Prose Narrative. Much of the narrative is still disguised as allegory, as in Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels and Addison’s Vision of Mirza. In his method Swift shows some advance, for he subordinates the allegory and adds to the interest in the satire and the narrative. The prominence given to fiction is still more noticeable in the novels of Defoe, such as Robinson Crusoe. We are now in touch with the novel proper, which will be treated in the next chapter.

(d) Miscellaneous Prose. There is a large body of religious, political and philosophical work. Much of it is satirical. In political prose Swift is the outstanding figure, with such books as the Drapier’s Letters; and in religious writing his Tale of a Tub has a sinister importance. Other examples are Bolingbroke’s Spirit of Patriotism (political), Berkeley’s Alciphron (philosophical), and Steele’s The Christian Hero (religious).

1. Poetry. In poetry we have to chronicle the domination of the heroic couplet. This meter produced a close, clear, and almost prosaic style, as we have noticed in the work of Pope. Blank verse is still found in Young’s Night Thoughts. Another example of blank verse is found in the mock epic of John Philips (1676–1708) called The Splendid Shilling (1703). The use of blank verse at this time is important, for it marks both a resistance to the use of the couplet and a promise of the revival of the freer forms of verse. The following is a fair example of the blank verse of the period. In style it is quite uninspired, and is philosophically dull, but it is metrically accurate and has a certain dignity and force.

The lyric still survives as a pale reflection of the Caroline species. A short specimen will suffice to show the facile versification and the lack of real passion that marks the treatment of the almost universal love-theme:

The only other kind of meter of any consequence is the octosyllabic couplet, which is largely employed in occasional and satirical compositions. Its style is neat, sharp, and dexterous, as can be observed in Swift’s and Prior’s verses.

2. Prose. In prose the outstanding feature is the emergence of the middle style. Of this the chief exponent is Addison, of whom Johnson says, “His prose is of the middle style, always equable, and always easy, without glowing words and pointed sentences.” We now find established a prose suitable for miscellaneous purposes—for newspaper and political work, for the essay, for history and biography. The step is of immense importance, for we can say that with Addison the modern era of prose is begun.

Along with this went the temporary disappearance of ornate prose. Prose of this style, though it had its beauties, was yet liable to be full of flaws, and was unacceptable to the taste of the age of Pope. It was therefore avoided. When ornate prose re-emerged later in the work of Johnson and Gibbon it was purged of its technical weaknesses, a development largely due to the period of maturing that it had undergone in the time we are now considering.

While the school of Addison represents the middle style, the plainer style is represented in the work of Swift and Defoe. Swift reveals the style at its best—sure, clean, and strong. Defoe’s writing is even plainer, and often descends to carelessness and inaccuracy. This is due almost entirely to the haste with which he wrote. We give an example of this colloquial style:

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

1. Compare the two following passages as examples of satire. They represent the bitterest passages from Dryden and Pope respectively. Remark upon the two methods—whether they are personal or general, vindictive or magnanimous. Add a note on the style of Dryden contrasted with that of Pope, and compare their handling of the heroic couplet. Say which passage you prefer, and why you prefer it.

2. The two following extracts are from love-lyrics of the period. Comment upon the treatment of the theme, paying attention to the strength of feeling expressed, and the naturalness of the expression. Is the English or the Scottish poem the more natural? Write a note on the style of each, and say if it suits the subject.

3. The following three extracts are from the works of Swift, Addison, and Defoe. Ascribe each piece to its author, in each case giving distinctly your reasons for the selection of the authorship.

4. We give two extracts, one dramatic and one non-dramatic, from the blank verse of the time. Does the verse strike you as being passionate, interesting, or profound? How would you describe it? Discuss the meter—its regularity, melody, and power.

5. What is the object of Swift in the following satirical passage? How does he achieve it? How are the style, figures of speech, and meter suited to his purpose? Compare this extract with that from Hudibras given on pp. 208–9. Which is the wittier and more deadly? How is the superiority gained?

6. We give an example of Swift’s prose satire, a passage in which he describes the progress of a political lie. What is the figure of speech underlying the passage, and how does it assist his purpose? Compare this passage with the poetical one given in the last exercise: do the two passages correspond in style, figurativeness, and force? Which strikes you as being the more effective?

7. “The bulk of your natives appear to me to be the most pernicious race of odious little vermin that Nature ever suffered to crawl upon the face of the earth.” The King of Brobdingnag says this to Gulliver. How far does this represent Swift’s attitude in Gulliver’s Travels, and how far does he succeed in conveying this impression?

8. “I fared like a distressed prince who calls in a powerful neighbour to his aid: I was undone by my auxiliary; when I had once called him in, I could not subsist without dependence on him.” This is Steele’s own estimate of Addison’s contribution to The Tatler and The Spectator. As far as you can, estimate the share of each writer in the production of the two periodicals, and apportion their relative importance.

9. How much of their personal peculiarities and weaknesses appears in the writings of Swift, Pope, and Steele? How far does the nature of their literary work drive them to this self-revelation?

10. Account for the decline of the drama during the first half of the eighteenth century.

11. From an examination of the table given on p. 273 answer the following questions: What branches of poetry are most weakly represented during the age of Pope? Why is that so? What branch of prose-writing is the strongest? Why is that so?

12. Why is the period of Pope called “the Age of Prose”? Does this description of the time need modification?

13. Give reasons for the rise of periodical literature during this period.

14. The humor of Addison “is that of a gentleman, in which the quickest sense of the ridiculous is constantly tempered by good nature and good breeding.... He preserves a look of demure serenity.... The mirth of Swift is the mirth of Mephistopheles.... Swift moves laughter, but never joins in it.” (Macaulay.) Compare the humor of Swift with that of Addison. Which of the two does Pope more closely resemble in humor?

15. “Fancy, provided she knows her place, is tolerated; but Imagination is kept at a distance.” (Saintsbury.) Show how far this statement applies to the poetry of this time.

CHAPTER IX THE AGE OF TRANSITION — TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS — THE TRANSITION IN POETRY — THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1740–1800) — THE AGE OF TRANSITION — SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709–84) — JAMES THOMSON (1700–48) — OLIVER GOLDSMITH (1728–74) — OTHER TRANSITIONAL POETS — ROBERT BURNS (1759–96) — OTHER POETS OF THE NEW SCHOOL — SAMUEL RICHARDSON (1689–1761) — HENRY FIELDING (1707–54) — OTHER NOVELISTS — EDWARD GIBBON (1737–94) — OTHER HISTORIANS — EDMUND BURKE (1729–97) — OTHER PROSE-WRITERS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS — THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE — EXERCISES

The thick line shows the period of active literary work.

The following table is meant to convey a rough idea of the drift of poetry toward Romanticism. In the table the lateral position of the title of a work gives an approximate estimate of its approach to the Romantic ideal. Such an estimate, especially in the case of the transitional poems, cannot be determined absolutely, and need not be taken as final. The table, nevertheless, reveals not only the steady drift, but also the manner in which the different stages of development overlap.

The period covered by the present chapter is that of the middle and later stages of the eighteenth century. During this time several relevant historical movements call for notice.

1. Decline of the Party Feud. The contest between the Whigs and the Tories still continues, but it is hardly of the previous bitterness. The chief reason for this change is found in the weakness of the Tory party, which by rash management and precipitate action made itself so unpopular that for nearly thirty years—those in the middle of the century—the Whigs had hardly any opposition. With the accession of George III in 1760 the Tories swiftly climbed into power, and, with the shadow of the French Revolution already looming up, party feeling soon acquired additional ferocity.

2. Commercial and Imperial Expansion. Under the pacific management of the great Whig minister Walpole, and owing to the successful wars of his successors, the eighteenth century saw an immense growth in the wealth and importance of the British Empire. On literature this material welfare had its effect by endowing and stimulating research and original work. The possession of India and America in itself was an inspiration, and when the new territories brought new burdens, like that of the American revolt, the clash of ideals led to fresh literary effort, as can easily be seen in the work of Burke.

3. The French Revolution. Long before it burst, the storm of the Revolution was, in the words of Burke, blackening the horizon. During the century new ideas were germinating; new forces were gathering strength; and the Revolution, when it did come in 1789, was only the climax to a long and deeply diffused unrest. Revolutionary ideas stirred literature to the very depths; the present chapter, and the next as well, are a chronicle of their effects upon the literature of England.

Like all other periods of transition, the one under review is disturbed and confused. It is a matter of great difficulty to trace the different tendencies, but with care the task may be accomplished with some accuracy.

1. The Double Tendency. Two movements can be clearly observed in the writing of the time, namely:

(a) The allegiance to the old order of classicism. In this movement the chief and almost the only figure is that of Samuel Johnson. He is a host in himself, however.

(b) The search after the new order of Romanticism. In their different degrees, as can be seen from the second table at the beginning of this chapter, many writers were engaged in the search. It began as early as 1730, with the publication of Thomson’s Seasons; and though it lapsed for a time, it was to continue with gathering force during the latter years of the century.

2. The New Romanticism. The general features of the Romantic movement were:

(a) A return to nature—to the real nature of earth and air, and not to the stuffy, bookish nature of the artificial pastoral.

(b) A fresh interest in man’s position in the world of nature. This led to great activity in religious and political speculation, as will be seen further on.

(c) An enlightened sympathy for the poor and oppressed. In English literature during this time one has but to think of the work of Cowper, Burns, and Crabbe, and even of the classically minded Gray, to perceive the revolution that is taking place in the minds of men.

(d) A revolt against the conventional literary technique, such as that of the heroic couplet. On the other hand, we have a desire for strength, simplicity, and sincerity in the expression of the new literary ideals.

(e) Fresh treatment of Romantic themes in such poems as The Lay of the Last Minstrel, The Ancient Mariner, La Belle Dame sans Merci.

In the present chapter we shall perceive all the above features dimly taking shape. In the next chapter they will be the dominating features of the era.

3. The New Learning. The middle and later stages of the eighteenth century show a minor Renaissance that touched nearly all Europe. The increase in wealth and comfort coincided with a general uplifting of the standard of the human intellect. In France particularly it was well marked, and it took for its sign and seal the labors of the Encyclopædists and the social amenities of the older salons. Many of the leading English writers, including Gibbon, Hume, and Sterne, visited Paris, which was the hub of European culture.

In England the new learning took several channels. In literature we have the revival of the Romantic movement, leading to (a) research into archaic literary forms, such as the ballad, and (b) new editions of the older authors, such as Shakespeare and Chaucer. The publication of Bishop Percy’s Reliques (1765) which contained some of the oldest and most beautiful specimens of ballad-literature, is a landmark in the history of the Romantic movement. Even Pope and Johnson were moved to edit Shakespeare, though they did it badly. The editions of Theobald and Warburton were examples of scholarly and enlightened research.

4. The New Philosophy. The spirit of the new thinking, which received its consummate expression in the works of Voltaire, was marked by keen skepticism and the zest for eager inquiry. Scotland very early took to it, the leading Scottish philosopher being Hume. It would seem, perhaps, that this destructive spirit of disbelief would injure the Romantic ideal, which delights in illusion. But finally the new spirit actually assisted the Romantic ideal by demolishing and clearing away heaps of the ancient mental lumber, and so leaving the ground clear for new and fresher creations.

5. The Growth of Historical Research. History appears late in our literature, for it presupposes a long apprenticeship of research and meditation. The eighteenth century witnessed the swift rise of historical literature to a place of great importance. Like so many other things we have mentioned, it was fostered in France, and it touched Scotland first. The historical school had a glorious leader in Gibbon, who was nearly as much at home in the French language as he was in English.

6. The New Realism. At first, as might be expected, the spirit of inquiry led to the suppression of romance; but it drew within the circle of literary endeavor all the ranks of mankind. Thus we have the astonishing development of the novel, which at first concerned itself with domestic incidents. Fielding and his kind dealt very faithfully with human life, and often were squalidly immersed in masses of sordid detail. In the widest sense of the word, however, the novelists were Romanticists, for in sympathy and freshness of treatment they were followers of the new ideal.

7. The Decline of Political Writing. With the partial decay of the party spirit the activity in pamphleteering was over; poets and satirists were no longer the favorites of Prime Ministers. Walpole, the greatest of contemporary ministers, openly despised the literary breed, for he did not need them. Hence writers had to depend on their public, which was not entirely an evil. This caused the rise of the man of letters, such as Johnson and Goldsmith, who wrote to satisfy a public demand. Later in the century, when the political temperature once again approached boiling-point, pamphlets began again to acquire an importance, which rose to a climax in the works of Junius and Burke.

1. His Life. Johnson has a faithful chronicler in Boswell, whose Life of Johnson makes us intimate with its subject to a degree rare in literature. But even the prying zeal of Boswell could not extort many facts regarding the great man’s early life. Johnson was born at Lichfield, the son of a bookseller, whose pronounced Tory views he inherited and steadfastly maintained. From his birth he was afflicted with a malignant skin-disease (for which he was unsuccessfully “touched” by Queen Anne) which all through his life affected his sight and hearing, and caused many of the physical peculiarities that astonished and amused the friends of his later years. After being privately educated, he proceeded to Oxford, where he experienced the miseries and indignities that are the lot of a poor scholar cursed with a powerful and aspiring mind. Leaving the university, he tried school-teaching, with no success; married a woman twenty years older than himself; and then in 1737 went to London and threw himself into the squalors and allurements of Grub Street.

In his Essay on Johnson Macaulay has given an arresting description of the miseries endured by the denizens of Grub Street; and in this case even the natural exaggeration of Macaulay is not quite misplaced. We know next to nothing regarding the life of Johnson during this early period. It is certain that it was wretched enough to cause the sturdy old fellow, in after years, to glance at this period of his life with a shudder of loathing, and to quench the curiosity of Boswell with ultra-Johnsonian vehemence. Very slowly he won his way out of the gutter, fighting every step with bitter tenacity; for, as he puts it in his poem of London, with all the outstanding emphasis of capitals, SLOW RISES WORTH BY POVERTY OPPRESSED. From the obscure position of a publisher’s hack he became a poet of some note by the publication of London (1738), which was noticed by Pope; his Dictionary (1747–55) advanced his fame; then somewhat incomprehensibly he appears in the limelight as one of the literary dictators of London, surrounded by a circle of brilliant men. In 1762 he received a pension from the State, and the last twenty years of his life were passed in the manner most acceptable to him: dawdling, visiting, conversing, yet living with a gigantic vitality that made his fellows wonder.

It is in these latter years that we find him imperishably figured in the pages of Boswell. All his tricks of humor—his bearishness, his gruff goodwill, his silent and secret benevolences; his physical aberrations—his guzzlings, his grunts, his grimaces, his puffings and wallowings; his puerile superstitions; his deep and beautiful piety; his Tory prejudices, so often enormously vocal; his masterful and unsleeping common sense; the devouring immensity of his conversational powers: we find all these set out in The Life of Doctor Johnson.

2. His Poetry. He wrote little poetry, and none of it, though it has much merit, can be called first-class. His first poem, London (1738), written in the heroic couplet, is of great and somber power. It depicts the vanities and the sins of city life viewed from the depressing standpoint of an embittered and penurious poet. His only other longish poem is The Vanity of Human Wishes (1749). The poem, in imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, transfers to the activities of mankind in general the gloomy convictions raised ten years earlier by the spectacle of London. The meter is the same as in London, and there is the same bleak pessimism, but the weight and power of the emotion, the tremendous conviction and the stern immobility of the author, give the work a great value. There are many individual lines of solemn grandeur. The following passage shows all he has to offer to the young aspirant to literary fame:

3. His Drama. When he first came to London in 1737 he brought the manuscript, in part, of Irene, a solemn and ponderous tragedy. In 1749, through the heroic exertions of his old pupil David Garrick, who was then manager of Drury Lane Theatre, it was given a hearing, and had a run of nine nights. Even Johnson’s best friends had to admit that it was no success, and it then utterly disappeared, taking with it Johnson’s sole claim to dramatic merit.

4. His Prose. Any claim that Johnson has to be called a first-rate writer must be based on the merit of his prose; but even his prose is small in bulk and strangely unsatisfying in kind. His earliest effort was contributed to Cave’s Gentleman’s Magazine, and comprised Parliamentary reporting, in which he fabricated the speeches of the legislators, to the great benefit of the legislators. Various hack-work followed; and then in 1747 he planned, and in eight years produced, his Dictionary. He also wrote The Rambler (1750–52) and The Idler (1758–60), which were periodicals in the manner of The Spectator, without the ease and variety of their original. To these he regularly contributed essays, which were quite popular in their day, though to modern notions they would be the reverse of acceptable. They treat mainly of abstract subjects, and are expressed in an extremely cumbrous style which soon came to be known as Johnsonese. This type of prose style is marked by a Latinized vocabulary, long and balanced sentences, and an abstract mode of expression. The passage given below illustrates these mannerisms, as well as a kind of elephantine skittishness with which Johnson was sometimes afflicted:

He wrote Rasselas (1759) in order to pay for his mother’s funeral. It was meant to be a philosophical novel, but it is really a number of Rambler essays, written in Johnsonese, and strung together with the personality of an inquiring young prince called Rasselas. It is hardly a novel at all; the tale carries little interest, the characters are rudimentary, and there are many long, dull discussions. In the book, however, there are abundant shrewd comments and much of Johnson’s somber clarity of vision.

His later years were almost unproductive of literary work. Yet he kept himself deeply interested in the events of the day. For instance, he started a violent quarrel with Macpherson, whose Ossian had startled the literary world. We give a letter that Johnson wrote to the Scotsman, which shows that he sometimes wrote as he spoke—crisply, clearly, and scathingly:

His Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland (1774), a travel book, shows the faculty of narrative, and contains passages of great skill. His last work of any consequence was The Lives of the Poets (1779–81), a series of prefaces to a collection of poetical works. They are the best specimens of Johnson’s criticism, which is virile and sagacious, though it is influenced by the emotions of the classical school of Pope.

Thus when we come to estimate the value of his work we must arrive at the conclusion that the towering eminence which he held among really able men was due rather to the personality of the man than to the outstanding genius of the writer. Moreover, it is important to observe that he founded no school and left no literary following. He is the last of the old generation.

Thomson can hardly be called a great poet, yet in the history of literature he is unusual enough to be regarded (chronologically) as a freak. As such he is important, and it is necessary to give him some prominence.

1. His Life. Born near Kelso, close to some of the loveliest valleys on the Scottish side of the Border, Thomson early came to London (1725) to seek a patron and fame. His Winter (1726), though its novelty embarrassed the critics, brought him recognition and afterward praise; he obtained the patronage of the great, and assiduously cultivated it; traveled as a tutor to a noble family; obtained Government places and emoluments; and passed a happy and prosperous life at his cottage near Richmond.

2. His Poetry. His Winter was afterward quadrupled in size by including the other three seasons, and became The Seasons (1730). It is a blank-verse poem, and consists of a long series of descriptive passages dealing with natural scenes, mainly those with which he was familiar during his youth on the Scottish Border. There is a great deal of padding, and the style is often marked by clumsy expressions; yet on the whole the treatment is exhilarating, full of concentrated observation and joy in the face of nature. Above all, it is real nature, obtained from the living sky and air, and not from books; and, coming when it did, the poem exerted a strong counter-influence against the artificial school of poetry.

Thomson also wrote Liberty (1736), a gigantic poem in blank verse, intolerably dull. It had no success. As Johnson says, “The praises of Liberty were condemned to harbour spiders, and to gather dust.”

In the last year of his life he published The Castle of Indolence, which is even more remarkable than The Seasons. The poem is written in Spenserian stanzas, and in the true Spenserian fashion it gives a description of a lotus-land into which world-weary souls are invited to withdraw. The work is imitative, and so cannot claim to be of the highest class, but it is an imitation of the rarest merit. For languid suggestiveness, in dulcet and harmonious versification, and for subtly woven vowel-music it need not shirk comparison with the best of Spenser himself. We give three verses of this remarkable poem. Coming at such a period, and expressing as they do the essence of romantic idealism, the verses are well worth quoting:

Thomson also wrote some dramas, including one bad tragedy, Sophanisba (1729); and in collaboration with Mallet he produced the masque Alfred (1740), which happens to contain the song Rule, Britannia. The song is usually said to be Thomson’s.

As another typical example of the transition poet we take Goldsmith, whose work was produced a full generation after that of Thomson.

1. His Life. Much of Goldsmith’s early life is obscure, and our knowledge of it rests upon his own unsupported and hardly reliable evidence. He was born at Pallas, a small village in County Longford, in Ireland, and he was the son of the poor but admirable curate of the village. His father, the village, and various local features are duly registered, and unduly idealized, in the poem The Deserted Village. In 1745 Goldsmith proceeded to Trinity College, Dublin; graduated, after some misadventures; and then tried various careers in turn—law, medicine, and playing the flute—at various places, including Dublin, Edinburgh, Leyden, Venice, and Padua. At the last-mentioned place he graduated, according to his own account, as a doctor, and claimed title as such. In truth, a settled career was beyond Goldsmith’s capacity. He had all the amiable vices of the stage Irishman: he was shiftless and improvident, but generous and humane; unstable and pitifully puerile in mind, but with bright, piercing flashes of humor and insight. During his years of wandering he roved over Europe, playing the flute for a living; then in 1756 he returned to England, poor, unknown, but undaunted.

Then followed desperate attempts at making a living. In succession he was chemist, printer’s reader, usher in a school, and finally (the last refuge of the literary down-at-heels) publisher’s hack and a denizen of Grub Street. In time, however, by their sheer merit, his writings drew upon him the regard of famous persons, including Dr. Johnson and Charles James Fox, the eminent politician. Once recognition came, it came with a rush; money and praise poured in; but his feckless habits kept him poor, and he drifted about in mean London lodgings till his death in 1774. It was said that he brought his doom upon himself by prescribing for his own ailment. He left debts for two thousand pounds. During his latter years he was a member of Johnson’s famous club, where his artless ways—his bickerings, witticisms, and infantile vanity—were the cause of the mingled amusement, admiration, and contempt of his fellow-members.

2. His Poetry. Though his poetical production is not large, it is notable. His first poem, The Traveller (1764), deals with his wanderings through Europe. The poem, about four hundred lines in length, is written in the heroic couplet, and is a series of descriptions and criticisms of the places and peoples of which he had experience. The descriptions, though often superficial and half-informed, are fired with the genius of the man, and are arresting and noteworthy. His critical comments, which require on his part clear thinking and some knowledge of social and economic facts, are of hardly any value. Similar drawbacks are seen in his only other poem of any length, The Deserted Village (1770). In this poem, as he deals with the memories of his youth, the pathetic note is more freely expressed. His natural descriptions have charm and genuine feeling; but his remedies for the agricultural depression of Ireland are innocently empty of the slightest practical value.

The peculiar humor and pathos of Goldsmith are hard to analyze. Both emotions arise for simple situations, and are natural and free from any deep guile, yet they have a certain agreeable tartness of flavor, and show that Goldsmith was no fool in his observation of mankind. Often the humor is so dashed with pathos that the combined effect is attractive to a very high degree. The passage given below illustrates his artless emotion naturally expressed:

Goldsmith’s miscellaneous poems are important, for they include some of his characteristic humorous and pathetic writing. The ballad called The Hermit is done in the sentimental fashion, the witty Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog is suggestive of Swift without Swift’s savage barb, and the fine lines beginning “When lovely woman stoops to folly” are among the best he ever wrote.

3. His Drama. Goldsmith wrote two prose comedies, both of which rank high among their class. The first, called The Good-natured Man (1768), is not so good as the second, She Stoops to Conquer (1773). Each, but especially the latter, is endowed with an ingenious and lively plot, a caste of excellent characters, and a vivacious and delightful style. Based on the Restoration comedy, they lack the Restoration grossness. The second play had an immense popularity, and even yet it is sometimes staged.

4. His Prose. The prose is of astonishing range and volume. Among his works of fiction we find The Citizen of the World (1759), a series of imaginary letters from a Chinaman, whose comments on English society are both simple and shrewd. This series was contributed to The Public Ledger, a popular magazine. He wrote many other essays in the manner of Addison, almost as well done as those of Addison. His other important work of fiction is his novel The Vicar of Wakefield (1766), which is in the first rank of the eighteenth-century novels. The plot of the novel is simple, but fairly well handled, the characters are human and attractive, and the book has all the Goldsmith qualities of humor and pathos.

We give an example of his style. The passage is taken from one of his essays, in which he sketches the character of a man who, while he pretends to be hard-hearted, is in reality of a generous disposition. The humor is typical; it is artless, but it is acute and pervading, and shows us quite plainly that the writer was by no means the zany that Boswell (who disliked Goldsmith) desired us to imagine in his Life of Johnson.

In addition, Goldsmith produced a great mass of hack-work, most of which is worthless as historical and scientific fact, but all of which is enlightened with the grace of his style and personality. Some of these works are An Inquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning in Europe (1759), his first published book; The History of England (1762); and The History of Earth and Animated Nature, a kind of text-book on natural history, which was unfinished when he died.

5. Summary. Goldsmith’s work is so varied and important that it is necessary to summarize briefly. The following are its main features:

(a) Variety. In his projected Latin epitaph on Goldsmith, Johnson gives prominence to the statement that Goldsmith touched on nearly every type of writing and adorned them all: