Adventures in Criticism | Page 4

painted
that human nature which is, indeed, constant enough--a rogue in the
fifteenth century being at heart what a rogue is in the nineteenth
century and was in the twelfth; and an honest or knightly man being, in
like manner, very similar to other such at any other time. And the work
of these great idealists is, therefore, always universal: not because it is
not portrait, but because it is complete portrait down to the heart, which
is the same in all ages; and the work of the mean idealists is not
universal, not because it is portrait, but because it is half portrait--of the
outside, the manners and the dress, not of the heart. Thus Tintoret and
Shakespeare paint, both of them, simply Venetian and English nature as
they saw it in their time, down to the root; and it does for all time; but
as for any care to cast themselves into the particular ways of thought, or
custom, of past time in their historical work, you will find it in neither
of them, nor in any other perfectly great man that I know of."--Modern
Painters.
It will be observed that Mr. Corson, whose address deals primarily with
literary training, speaks of these absolute qualities of the great
masterpieces as the first object of study. But his words, and Ruskin's
words, fairly support my further contention that they remain the most
important object of study, no matter how far one's literary training may

have proceeded. To the most erudite student of Chaucer in the wide
world Chaucer's poetry should be the dominant object of interest in
connection with Chaucer.
But when the elaborate specialist confronts us, we are apt to forget that
poetry is meant for mankind, and that its appeal is, or should be,
universal. We pay tribute to the unusual: and so far as this implies
respect for protracted industry and indefatigable learning, we do right.
But in so far as it implies even a momentary confusion of the essentials
with the accidentals of poetry, we do wrong. And the specialist himself
continues admirable only so long as he keeps them distinct.
I hasten to add that Professor Skeat does keep them distinct very
successfully. In a single sentence of admirable brevity he tells us that of
Chaucer's poetical excellence "it is superfluous to speak; Lowell's essay
on Chaucer in 'My Study Windows' gives a just estimate of his
powers." And with this, taking the poetical excellence for granted, he
proceeds upon his really invaluable work of preparing a standard text of
Chaucer and illustrating it out of the stores of his apparently
inexhaustible learning. The result is a monument to Chaucer's memory
such as never yet was reared to English poet. Douglas Jerrold assured
Mrs. Cowden Clarke that, when her time came to enter Heaven,
Shakespeare would advance and greet her with the first kiss of
welcome, "even should her husband happen to be present." One can
hardly with decorum imagine Professor Skeat being kissed; but
Chaucer assuredly will greet him with a transcendent smile.
The Professor's genuine admiration, however, for the poetical
excellence of his poet needs to be insisted upon, not only because the
nature of his task keeps him reticent, but because his extraordinary
learning seems now and then to stand between him and the natural
appreciation of a passage. It was not quite at haphazard that I chose just
now the famous description of the Prioresse as an illustration of
Chaucer's poetical quality. The Professor has a long note upon the
French of Stratford atte Bowe. Most of us have hitherto believed the
passage to be an example, and a very pretty one, of Chaucer's
playfulness. The Professor almost loses his temper over this: he speaks

of it as a view "commonly adopted by newspaper-writers who know
only this one line of Chaucer, and cannot forbear to use it in jest."
"Even Tyrwhitt and Wright," he adds more in sorrow than in anger,
"have thoughtlessly given currency to this idea." "Chaucer," the
Professor explains, "merely states a fact" (the italics are his own), "viz.,
that the Prioress spoke the usual Anglo-French of the English Court, of
the English law-courts, and of the English ecclesiastics of higher ranks.
The poet, however, had been himself in France, and knew precisely the
difference between the two dialects; but he had no special reason for
thinking more highly" (the Professor's italics again) "of the Parisian
than of the Anglo-French.... Warton's note on the line is quite sane. He
shows that Queen Philippa wrote business letters in French (doubtless
Anglo-French) with 'great propriety'" ... and so on. You see, there was a
Benedictine nunnery at Stratford-le-Bow; and as "Mr. Cutts says, very
justly, 'She spoke French correctly, though with an accent which
savored of the Benedictine Convent at