The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-05-25

ness oil Chaucers way OF treating thlhgS, let US |
quote n charming passage of his prose. 1t |
occurs i'm the opening paragraph of his treatise |
on the "Astrolabye, which he wrote I'm his !
sixty-third year. A. ID. 1891 for the special edif-
cation of one of his children--
'1ytel Louys my some, perceive well by certene
evidences thyme abyyte to lerne Scyences touching
n0mbres and proportions, and also well cOnsydere
thy besye prayer in especial to lerne the treyse of
the AstrolaDye IA mathematical instrument, says
TRY for ascertaining the height OF the sun aud
starsl. This trcatyse divided in five parts viii
lsheWe the wQnder-hght rules ana naked words in
E4ghshe for Latino ne canst thou nat yet, but small
NY ytel sonne'
It was not only the speech of Englishmen. as
VIC have implied, that was dear to Chaucer He
took all England up But he did this i'm a
quiet poets way. He lived i'm time of what we
may call World-shaling cvents-a time of great
battes wide wasting cpidemics, of phenomena.
I'm q word, 50 startling, that Wycliife drew from
them the augury that the last phials were being
poured out ON the Church and the earth None
OF these things, however, touched with fearful
tOrcOOding the heart and brain of Chaucer. He
fought in the French wars-he was indeed
made q prisoner by the French. He knew how
the terrible desOatons of the Black Death,
among other results, introduced into the ranks
of the clergy crowd of ignorant and wholly
unworthy men. He knew all about Wat the
Iilcr from Deptford and the Scotch wars too
lie was perfectly familiar with the scandal of the
rival lniallibilitios, who kept laundering ever
lasting damnatiOn against each other and their
respective fOllowngs; and he must have heard
that at AvignOn, in the terrible words of Pc
trarch, Christ sold for lust and gold. Clearly
mere theologian must have tancied that the
end literally of all things was Mt hand. But
Chaucer was a genial and healthful poet. He
continued young in his own heart. He felt that
England was young. Was not her language
growing under his own hands? Was not Eng
land vitality pregnant with still larger results
than had yet been witnessed in her brief history?
Was Providence about to say the mother and
her unborn infant; Were not all things (as he
tells us in the great poem the knights Tale'O
linked by chain of love around the throne of
Jove; and was this England. in its present seeth-
ING condition. to be the lame and lmpotent con-
cusion of great word-drama? Why, was not
the 'Alchemist Canon while labOring in the
fires in search for the philosophers stone, q
world was yet to be heir? Would not the poor
person of a toune be the herald of u day in
which the Christianity of Christ would
be revealed to Englishmen disassOciated
tism Did not the heterogeneous
gathering of pilgrims on the road to Canterbury
prophesy day for England when all men
should be equal i'm the presence of Englands
law, because all were really embraced in that
Gospel Of our suete Lorde Jesu Christie which
| England had adopted as her common faith
| ChauCer Enthusiastically thought so. and accord
ngy he did two things. He gave the classical
past To his contemporaries, and in full assurance
of faith that great future lay in store for his
| country. he safe down and painted his own age
| for the delight and instruction of posterity.
| There is not a feature of the English landscape.
| scarcely a specimen of English natural history,
| or a characteristic habit of English manners
! which he has not photographed and so
| made an everlasting possession to his country
! men, Thus it was that while Wycliffe was
! announcing the worlds immediate doom,
Chaucer was busy in telling to later generations
! what Englishmen thought and did, how they
! prayed TASTED, feasted, went on pilgrimage
! loved, fought, and died in his own day.
English out and out as we have said he is, the
many-sidcdness of Chaucer claims special note
| All classes of Englishmen meet together in his
pilgrims. The plOughman is there with his
image of christopher on his breast; and here
we must note that in this feature Chaucer
showed himself fully alive to the profound in
fucncc of the popular legends of his day. Three
figures were emmently prominent in the con-
sciousncss of the middle ages-"Faust, the WAN
! dering jew, and christopher and in signaliz-
| inc the ploughman as carrying the image of st.
| Christopher Chaucer only proclaimed how
| truly he OWNED the latent characteristic of
allenduring national life: that is the Willingness
of the strong to support the weak. But side by
side with the plOughman, are the knight, the
! squire. the lawyer the doctor, the frar, the
merchant, the cook, and thes miller. England
| is TO Chaucer a sacred unity, and his prophetic
function Will have had the crown put upon il
when all men in England shall recognize
not merely the worth of the Saxon priest
| Beckett, who fought against the NOrmans
but shall confess Jesus Christ, the elder brother
shrine in the holy of holes in the human heart
all knees must bow.
Chaucer's plan of pilgrimage to Canterbury
was not carried out. At the Tabard Inn il
Southwark 81 pilgrims in all assembled on the
great night which he has made immortal, and
according to the programme of Harry Bailey
the landlord, each pilgrim was to tell two
stories on the road to Canterbury and two on re
turning. We should thus have had altogether
| l24 different tales, but our poet has not com
pleted his original scheme. Indeed, in pro
sale mood, we wonder how even one story coulC
ever have been listened TO by II company OF
horseback. Evidently, Chaucer felt the drama
tic elements of the pilgrimage, but did not cart
to work them out. He INDUCES in a kind O
illusion at starting, to half impose on his readers
and then, while occasionally keeping up the orr
ginal conception, he is cOntented, in the main
to let each story make II own impression, heed
| less of its consistency with his promised
intention. Altogether his poems, ant
specially his Canterbury Tales rank
as we must think, next to Shakespeare ant
> Milton, highest in our poetical literature Thei
range, their familiarity with all subjects, secular
philosophic and divine; their childlike deligh
2 | in nature, their sweetness, their pathos, thei
humor their lifelike portraitures OF men AM
| women their individuality, which makes tn
poet so personally dear TO us all, constitute tn
4 | writings of Chaucer a treasure quite unique il
4 | our literature. He sees, and says all that h
sees The theology of the predestinarian divin
Bradwardine, the philosophic utterances G
S Cicero, Aristotle and Boethius, whom he trans
S lated, are all at his tinger-ends. He has pre-
served as in amber the common proverbs of hi
{ day, such as IAN is not gold that glitters,
D Burnt BARNS dread the fire Murder wi
out ~ ''Make q virtue of necessity" and nun
,. berless others Doubtless as Mr.. Browne atllrm
c he is truly ''nuditarian,' but he never gloat
= over evil. He shows his age such as it was-th
Y worst of il as represented by such unmitigate