"

ISTORIANS have a great advantage over other writers; for as the principal merit of their works depends on their veracity, they are not liable to the revolutions or caprices to which other productions are subjected, from the arbitrary taste of different nations and ages, and for this reason are transmitted with more certainty to posterity.

"Froissart, whose name is deservedly celebrated on account of the history he has left us, would scarcely be known from his poetry, if Pasquier had not noticed the title of a copy of his poems which he had seen in the king's library at Fontainebleau: he may, however, have occupied a no less honourable place among the poets of his age than among the historians; and this is a point which M. de la Curne de Sainte Palaye has undertaken to examine before he conclude the researches he has made concerning him and his productions. To confine himself strictly within the limits he has prescribed to himself, he does not promise to enter into a minute detail of all his poetry, which

comprehends about thirty thousand

verses.

46

Among the poems of considerable length, to which Froissart has given the names of Traittex, M. de la Curne has chosen the Paradis d'Amour, and l'Horloge Amoreuse, Among those called Ditiez, he has selected that of the Marguerite; and in the miscellaneous pieces, as rondeaus, ballads, pastorals, Lais, Virelais and Chunts Royaux, he has taken particular pains to make us acquainted with the pastorals and rondeaus.

THE PARADISE of Love.

"The poet, tormented by the most violent love, falls asleep, and dreams, and the subject of this dream forms the plan of his poem. He finds himself seated in a beautiful wood, on the banks of a rivulet besprinkled with flowers, and surrounded by birds, among whom the nightingales form the most charming concerts. Recollecting, at this moment, the events of his youth, and the various success he had met with in his amours, he utters a violent complaint against the god of

..

love for all the misfortunes he had made him suffer. Plunged in a melancholy not to be alleviated by the songs of the birds, he hears a confused noise of voices, which made him retire behind a bush: two ladies appear as brilliant in charms as in dress, and, having approached, want to beat him, in revenge for the insult he had just offered to the god of love, their master their names were Pleasure and Hope. Being somewhat appeased, they tell him he should impute his misfortunes to himself alone, for that he had failed in submission and perseverance, which had been strongly recommended to him on his engaging under the standard of love; and, besides, assure him, that by these means more might have been obtained by him from the lady of his heart in one hour than he could have imagined, or even wished. Pleasure, after this useful advice, satisfies his curiosity to know what were her functions with the gud of love. The principal, she said, consisted in supporting his power, by the reciprocal charms which she conferred on two persons in love with each other, whence comes the proverbial saying,

No

ugly lover nor ill-favoured mis'tress.' He then conjures her, by all the credit she may be supposed to have in the court of Love, to exert herself that the lady to whom he had paid his homage should be come less cruel.

some ballads and virelays of his com position, which they sing with him.

They meet near a hill dour penser, gentil damoiseau, holding two greyhounds in a leash, who points out to them the place where they would find the god they are in search of, Several hunters, such as Beau-semblant, Beau-regard, Franc-vouloir, Desir, Souvenir, Bienbesognant, and others, scattered over different parts with greyhounds, pursuing the chace of love, afford opportunities to the new pilgrim to inquire if the god had many such hunters, and learns that he had thirty times as many, as well counts and dukes as kings and others.

"When they, had advanced farther, they meet a large company of beautiful ladies and damsels, with handsome youths, all clothed in green, and preparing to dance; and on his asking who they were, Pleasure names many heroes and heroines of romance, all subjects of the divinity, who dance near the paradise of his residence. At last they come to his pavilion, which is extended under a grove of trees, and the poet being presented, recites a lay so much to the satisfaction of the god that he promises him his assistance, and desires the ladies who had brought him to take every care of him, and shew him his gardens.

"As they were walking, singing, and gathering flowers, they met, in a handsome mead surrounded with rose-trees, Bel-accueil, who was making a chaplet of flowers, which two young maidens were collecting for him. The lover instantly runs to cast himself at the feet of his mistress: speaks to her of his pássion with transports, intermixed with trembling: tells her of the prayer he had made to Love, and entreats her to soften a little of her

rigour, if she be desirous that he should live. She asks, with a sweet smile, what he wishes from her, and, as she had recommended him not to exceed the bounds of discretion, he conjures her, that now being alone, she would allow him to hear some soft expressions from her mouth, and to condescend to retain him as her humble servant.

"Having obtained these favours, he goes away with her, and sings a ballad, which gains the applause of Pleasure as well as of his mistress: the last also rewards him with her permission to kiss a chaplet of daisies which she had just gathered, and which she herself kisses as she places it on his head. He is on the point of obtaining his utmost wishes, when she proposes going to another part of the garden to amuse themselves; but the joy he feels at this instant (for it seemed as if Pleasure were touching him) making him start, he awakens, and then returns thanks to the gods who had given him a dream so full of charms that he had been transported into the Paradise of Love.

"If the poem which follows, under the title of l'Horloge Amoureuse, be not so full of fictions, it is not the less curious for the information it affords us relating to the history of the arts.

"While all things concur towards perfection, and a learned society, under the eyes of different enlightened ministers of state, unite to the efforts of the most able artists the fruits of the deepest speculation, it would become those who pursue historical researches to be animated vith a similar zeal, and at times to turn their views to the same objects, -and, for the utility of the arts, to point out by what steps and by what means they have risen to the height at which we now see them,—

and, for the honour of those who' cultivate them, to shew how very far the moderns have gone beyond their predecessors in this line.

"Monuments like to the Horloge Amoureuse of Froissart would form an essential part of such a plan; for it not only contains a most circumstantial comparison of each part of a clock and its movement, with the state of a heart in love, and its various agitations, but, among other particulars of this comparison, it informs us of the ancient state of clock-making. We see, in the first place, that with regard to the movement, and the striking part, each had but two wheels instead of four, which they have at present. These two wheels were sufficient,-but the clocks went only six or eight hours, -and they were wound up three or four times a day.

"Secondly, That the clock marked twenty-four hours, beginning with one to twelve, and then repeating the same a second time.

"Thirdly, That the dial went round, and the hour was marked by a fixed point, which served for a hand.

"Fourthly, That instead of a pendulum or balance wheel, which were not then invented, the clocks had a piece called foliot, which bore two small weights called regules, whose use was to retard or advance the clock, as they were brought more or less near to the center of the foliot.

"Beside the differences in the construction of clocks, we remark in this poem several terms of clockmaking which were then used, and are now no longer current.

"The flower called Daisy, which incessantly turns to the sun, is celebrated in a poem under the title of Le Dit de la Margurite.' This flower was formed, according to

the

the poet, from the tears the young Heres shed over the tomb of Cepheus her lover. Mercury was accidentally led to the spot of this metamorphosis, as he was driving his flock to pasture; surprised to see so beautiful a flower in the month of January, when all the others were lifeless, and delighted with its brilliancy, he made a chaplet of it, and sent it by his messenger Liris to the fair Heres. So rare a present caused another change more happy than the first: the nymph, hitherto cruel, became affectionate. The god, full of love and gratitude for a Rower to which he owed the happiness of his life, determined to wear it ever after, as an ornament to his bead.

"This fiction is written with much delicacy and ingenuity: the purity with which the author protests to love eternally this flower, the subject of his poem, is expressed with too much tenderness not to conceal a real passion, perhaps for a lady of a similar name.

"The greater number of Frois sart's pastorals are on the prizes offered in different parts of Flanders and Picardy, to the fairest shepherdess of the district, or to the swain who should the best celebrate his love in song.

"M. de la Curne designedly suppresses many details concerning the dress of that age, the various musical instruments used in the country, and other particulars of the same sort. He likewise passes over several pastorals, apparently more important from their connexion with historical events,such as a coining of money, the arrival of king John of France in England, the return of the duke of Brabant to his country after his captivity, the victory gained by

Charles VI. of France at Cassel, the marriage of the duke of Berry, the public entry of queen Isabella into Paris, &c.

"Froissart has succeeded better in his pastorals than in any other species of poetry: that simple and ingenuous gaiety, which is the ge neral character of his mind, he has transfused wholly into the sentiments and deportment of his shepherds and shepherdesses. The subjects they discuss, their manner of treating them, and their language, are always conformable to their state and sentiments; a lively joy animates their games and their pastimes; but to render it more striking, M. de la Curne thus relates a part of the fourth pastoral.

"A rich shepherd balances between the fear of losing the affection of his mistress, who threatens to leave him if he do not marry her, and the great wealth his relations promise him to prevent the match: he, therefore, confidentially seeks advice in this embarrassment from a shepherd who is his friend, and whose counsels end always with,

• Si tu peux avoir ta bergére,
'Oserois-tu demander mieux?"
Were that lovely maid your bride,
What could you demand beside?

At this moment the shepherdess appears; they advance to meet her; and the friend who has been consulted says,

S'elle veut estre t'amiette,
⚫ Oserois-tu demander mieux.'
What compar'd is earthly gain,
Could you her consent obtain!

The shepherdess has two chaplets of flowers: she gives one to her lover, who is transported with joy: the two shepherds then take her by the hand.

•E:

Et puis prirent à caroler *
Et le bergerette à chanter
Une chançon moult nouvelette;
• Et disoit en chançonette,

Di moi, ausel, si t'ayt diex,
Si je voeil estre t'aniiette,
• Oserois-tu demauder mieux!"
Sweetly sung the gentle swains;
Sweetly she return'd their strains
In notes they never hop'd to hear,
While those soft accents charm'd the ear,
Tell me, should the gods provide
Such a blessing in a bride,

What could you wish on earth beside?

"The subjects of rondeaus are almost aways uniform. The most part of Froissart's speak the natural

sentiments of a lover sometimes well treated, at other times the reverse; at times gay and happy, at others melancholy and in despair. The expressions are ever lively, tender and simple, and perfectly paint the passion with which his breast is agitated. Underneath are two examples. The first rondeau begins,

'Amours, amours, que voulés de moi faire!

En vous ne puis veoir riens de seur. Je ne cognois ne vous ne votre afaire, 'Amours, amours, &c.

Lequel vaut mieux parler, prier ou taire!

Dites le moi, vous qui ayez bon eur, 'Amours, amours,' &c.

Ye gods of soft passion, what do you intend? Your're so fickle and frolic, and fond of disguise:

I know not is Cupid my foe or my friend.
Ye gods of soft passion, what do you intend?
Whether silence or speech my condition wil
mend,

O tell me some counsellor cunning and wise!
Ye gods of soft passion, what do you intend?

The second rondeau:

De quoi que soit, se doit renouveller
Uns jolis coers, le premier jour de May,
Voire s'il aime, ou s'il pense à aimer,
De quoi que soit, &c.

Pour ce vous veux, madame, émayoler †
En lieu de May, d'un loyal coer que j'ay,
De quoi que soit,' &c.

SHE.

Whatever betides, I will summon my swain On the first day of May his homage to pay;

• Danser.

"We may generally say of Froissart as a poet, that he was as much wanting in invention for his subject as in imagination for his ornaments, His style, less copious than loose, too frequently offers a tiresome repetition of the same phrases and turns of expression to introduce cominon thoughts: but the simplicity and freedom of his versification are not always void of grace; we meet now and then with poetical images, and many lines of verse of a very happy flow.

"Such was the state of poetry in that age, and painting was nearly the same. These two arts, which have almost always been united, seem to have made an uniform progress. Painters, on their emerging from barbarism, seizing at first in detail all the small objects nature presented to them, painted insects, flowers and birds, with such brilliant colours, and drew them with such exactness, that we at this day admire them among the ornaments of ancient manuscripts. When they attempted to represent the human figure, they studied more to render the outline and the detail of hair as minute as possible than to give expression to the countenance or motion to the body. These figures, of which vulgar nature furnished them with the models, were thrown together, as by accident, without selection, or taste in the composition.