CHAUCER. 207 



of genius. It is good to retreat now and then beyond 

 earshot of the introspective confidences of modern literature, 

 and to lose ourselves in the gracious worldiness of Chaucer. 

 Here was a healthy and hearty man, so genuine that he need 

 not ask whether he was genuine or no, so sincere as quite 

 to forget his own sincerity, so truly pious that he could be 

 happy in the best world that God chose to make, so 

 humane that he loved even the foibles of his kind. Here 

 was a truly epic poet, without knowing it, who did not 

 waste time in considering whether his age were good or 

 bad, but quietly taking it for granted as the best that ever 

 was or ever could be for him, has left us such a picture of 

 contemporary life as no man ever painted. &quot;A perpetual 

 fountain of good-sense,&quot; Dryden calls him ; yes, and of 

 good-humour, too, and wholesome thought. He was one of 

 those rare authors whom, if we had met him under a porch 

 in a shower, we should have preferred to the rain. He 

 could be happy with a crust and spring-water, and could 

 see the shadow of his benign face in a flagon of Gascon 

 wine without fancying Death sitting opposite to cry 

 Supernaculum I when he had drained it. He could look to 

 God without abjectness, and on man without contempt. 

 The pupil of manifold experience scholar, courtier, soldier, 

 ambassador, who had known poverty as a housemate and 

 been the companion of princes his was one of those happy 

 temperaments that could equally enjoy both halves of 

 culture, the world of books and the world of men. 



&quot; Unto this day it doth mine herte boote, 

 That I have had my world as in my time ! &quot; 



The portrait of Chaucer, which we owe to the loving regret 

 of his disciple Occleve, confirms the judgment of him which 

 we make for his works. It is, I think, more engaging than 

 that of any other poet. The downcast eyes, half sly, half 

 meditative, the sensuous mouth, the broad brow, drooping 

 with weight of thought, and yet with an inexpugnable 

 youth shining out of it as from the morning forehead of a 

 boy, are all noticeable, and not less so their harmony of 



