With wynde and with watir, wittirly enjoyned.
Kynde hath closed therynne, craftely withalle
A Lemman that he loveth, lyk to hym selve,
Anima she hatte, ac Envy hire hateth,

A proud prikier of Fraunce, princeps hujus mundi,
And wold wynne hire away with wiles and he myghtte;
Ac Kynde knoweth this wel, and kepith hire the bettre,
And doth hire with Sire Dowel is duk of these marchis;
Dobest is hire damsel, Sire Dowellys dougtter,

To serve this lady leely, both late and rathe,
Dobest is above both a bieschoppis pere,

That he bitt mot be don he reuleth hem alle.

Anima that lady, is led by his leryng;

Ac the constable of that castel, that kepith al the watche,

Is a wise knightte withalle, Sire Inwitt he hatte,

And hath fyve fair sones bi his first wyf,

Sire Seewel and Saywel, and Huyrewel the end,

Sir Worchewel with thyn hond, a wyghtte man of strengthe,
And Sire Godfray Gowel, grete lordis forsothe

These fyve ben sette, to save this lady Anima

Till Kynde come or send," &c.

The boldness of the poet, as well as his ingenuity, is shown in many spirited descriptions of the luxury of the clergy, and of the corruptions to which it led. Destitute as we are of all other means of judging of Longlande's personal character, we have so clear an image in his poetry of a free and lofty minded man,-of one whose sagacity gave vigour to his talents, and whose sense of moral right was equal both to his talents and his sagacity,-that we can scarcely be mistaken in ascribing to him a portion of the praise belonging to those qualities.

John Gower.

BORN CIRC. A. D. 1326.-DIED A. d. 1402.

On arriving at the name of Gower, the literary historian finds himself entering on a new and wider track of inquiry. Poetry-when that celebrated man began to write-had been long cultivated in this country; and the metrical romances of 'Sir Guy,' of 'the Squire of Low Degree,' 'Sir Degore,' and others, evince considerable power of imagination, and no slight mastery over the strong but yet unsettled idioms of the Saxon English. The poems of Adam Davie, who lived at the commencement of the fourteenth century, of Richard Hampole, an Augustine monk, who wrote about forty years later, and those of Robert Longlande, the author of the far-famed Vision of Pierce Plowman', connect the period of wild fanciful romance with that of Gower and Chaucer. But these early productions created a taste which they could not satisfy. There were glimpses of beauty in the rude conceptions they embodied,-an occasional sweetness in the construction of the hardy verse; but these only made the readers of those times long for demonstrations of a power which the art of the poet had not yet attained. It required a period of luxury and refinement to give that polish to language which renders it a sure and mirror-like medium for the operations of genius. The same refinement was necessary to give the poet a field sufficiently wide and fruitful in subjects for the exer

cise of his talent. In a rude age, it is only the wildest creations of the imagination which can secure attention, and these, however modified, will always belong to the same class, and be imbued with the same spirit. Nothing can be more erroneous than the common notion that an uncivilized period is the most favourable to the developement of the imagination. The freedom with which it is allowed to act, is far more than counterbalanced by the barrenness and poverty of ideas with which that freedom is accompanied. Imagination, like all other faculties of the mind, requires nourishment; but it is only in civilized communities—in which, though passion may be concealed, there are stronger sympathies at work, more varied combinations of feeling, more both to fear and love,-that it can find enough to preserve it in a state, not of seeming, but of real activity. Hence it is, that the poetry of barbarous times is so generally monotonous though wild, and that the grandest triumphs of the imagination have been witnessed in ages of advanced civilization. Homer, Eschylus, and his followers, Shakspeare and Milton,-bear ample testimony to the truth of this observation; and if their works be compared with the productions of authors who lived in more unpolished periods, it will be at once seen how little the imagination owes to a barbarous freedom to what it does to polish and cultivation.

Gower and his distinguished cotemporary were the first English po. ets who enjoyed all the advantages to be reaped from an improved age, from a highly refined education, and from constant intercourse with the noblest personages of the land. The reign of Edward the Third is celebrated in our national annals, as not less remarkable for the splendour of its events than the luxury which it introduced among the people. Every art by which domestic comfort could be increased was favoured by the wealthy populace, now growing into estimation as one of the orders of the state. The greater importance attached to the decisions of parliament conferred a respectability upon them which they had not before possessed, and hence not only diffused a general desire for the improvements of life, but taught them to appreciate better the qualifications of men of genius. While the people were thus prepared for a purer species of poetry than any that had yet been cultivated, and while the progress of intelligence was every day increasing its materials, and widening its range, the language was also undergoing an alteration strongly calculated to improve its harmony and flexibility. The growing pride of the nation, as well as its obvious interests, made the law which prohibited the further use of French in public deeds, as acceptable as it was politic. But the worst impediment to the refinement of the native language was thence removed. The Saxon words and idioms which yet stood out sharp and knotty obstacles to the smooth flow of its current, admitted of being worn down by the stream as it strengthened and enlarged itself; but the hitherto allowed superiority of French prevented any systematic attempts to improve it, and but for the conquests of Edward, and the advancement of national independence, the well of English undefiled' might never have existed.

It was under these circumstances that Gower and Chaucer laid the foundation of their school of poetry. The reign of Richard the Second gave a further impulse to the love of luxury, and the passion

for improvement which manifested themselves in the time of his prede cessor. A spirit of religious independence and inquiry then began to appear, and the corruptions which had shortly before been the prey only of a few keen wits, were exposed by Wickliffe to the examination and censure of the people at large. The attention of all classes was thus by turns excited to political and religious inquiry, and the popular mind every where outgrew the garments which had been woven for it by ignorance and superstition.

We unfortunately possess few records of the personal history of Gower, but the little which is known of it shows him to have enjoyed from early youth all the literary advantages that could be procured in the period when he flourished. The patience of antiquaries has traced his origin to a wealthy family of the same name, settled at Stitenham, in Yorkshire; but the genealogy thus made out for him has been since disputed, and the descent of Gower may, therefore, be considered as still unsettled. That his education, however, was of the most liberal kind, is allowed by all his biographers, but where he received it is as much a matter of dispute as his origin. All we know is, that having finished his preliminary studies, he became a student of law in the Inner Temple, where he was distinguished for his great professional acquirements, and enjoyed the character of being as accomplished in general literature as he was in jurisprudence.

Both fortune and reputation rewarded the industry with which he cultivated his various talents. It has been conjectured by some writers that he received the honour of knighthood, and held a high legal appointment, but there is not sufficient foundation for this opinion, and the only well-authenticated part of the relation is, that he amassed considerable wealth, and that the greater portion of it was the fruit of his professional skill and perseverance. The knowledge of this circumstance explains the allusions which are made by Chaucer to the sober and moral character of his friend, and affords an interesting picture of a man of genius, combining, in this early period of our history, the love of letters with the regular habits of business.

It was while actively engaged in his professional occupations, that he composed the greater part of the works which entitle him to be ranked among the restorers of literature; and it has been recorded to his honour, that the chief object he had in view, in most of what he wrote, was the correction of those follies and vices which had already sprung from the luxury of the nobles, and the corresponding grossness of the people. He appears, however, to have advanced some way in his li terary career, before he escaped the trammels which the fashionable love of French had imposed on so many minds. His principal work consists of three parts, the titles of which are, Speculum Meditantis, Vox Clamantis, Confessio Amantis. Of these, the first is written in French, and the ten books into which it is divided are occupied with general delineations of virtue and vice, with exhortations and advice to the reprobate for their restoration to hope, and with eulogies on the virtues to be cultivated in the marriage state. The second part, or the 'Vox Clamantis,' shows the disinclination he still entertained towards English, or at least his unwillingness to trust the fame he was desirous of reaping to his native tongue. Seven books of Latin elegiacs were the production of his laborious pen, under the above title, and they

exhibit, both by their style and subject, the fondness with which the scholars of the age still regarded the works of the monkish historians. The insurrection which shook the throne of the unfortunate Richard to its foundations, was the subject of this strange poem; but neither of the parts of Gower's great work here mentioned was ever printed ; and had he produced nothing else, his name, it is most probable, would not now be known. It may, however, be conjectured, that in his employment of French and Latin, he was encouraged by the example of his celebrated cotemporaries in other countries. The fame which had been acquired by the earlier French bards, naturally rendered their language the favourite vehicle for poetry of the lighter species; and the veneration for Latin was still so great, that Petrarch, it is well known, scorned the idea of deriving glory from his compositions in modern Italian.

But the Confessio Amantis' amply vindicates our author's claim to the honour of an English writer, while the occasion of its being composed affords a proof of the fame he had acquired by the preceding parts of the poem. While rowing one day on the Thames, the king happened to meet him in the royal barge, and no sooner recognised his person, but gave him a signal to enter. The conversation between the monarch and the poet lasted for some time, and at its conclusion, his Majesty desired him to resume his poetical labours, expressing his wish in the significant phrase, that he would book some new thing.' The command of the king was forthwith obeyed, and Richard proved in this instance at least, a judicious patron. It would afford the reader little instruction to give an abstract of the Confessio Amantis.' An idea, however, of this singular work may be formed from its being simply stated, that it embodies the rules of love laid down by the three very distinct teachers on the subject, the romantic troubadours, the Platonic Italians, and the sensual Ovid. In illustration of these rules, the author expends all the learning of his age, and leaves uncited neither historian nor philosopher of whose works or even of whose name he had ever heard. The strange medley of learning thus brought together, has little beauty to the eye of a modern reader, but if the age be considered in which it appeared, we shall see reason to believe that it was regarded in a far different light by those for whom it was written. Knowledge had then as deep a charm as poetry, and the stories and mysteries told or alluded to by Gower, would thus excite an interest sufficiently strong to atone for any appearance of incongruity. But, besides the defects in the plan of the work, it has others of a more serious kind in its execution. It is generally allowed to exhibit very little invention, to be tame in expression, and to be deficient, in short, in most of those excellencies which characterise the productions of Chaucer. But it is not so much in relation to the genius of the writer as in reference to the age when it was produced, that a work of early date should be considered. The acute observation of Addison in respect to medals, pertains, in one particular, to ancient poems. "The intrinsic value," says he, "of an old coin does not consist in its metal, but its erudition :" and in the same manner, the interest of a poem such as that we are considering, depends less on the intrinsic beauty of the language or conception, than on its relative merit when compared with other productions

But in placing

of the same, or an immediately preceding period. the Vox Amantis' by the side of the romances which, with few exceptions, were the only poems in the language, its superiority is at once evident. The author evinces a just sense of the dignity and fit application of his art: his subject is varied by all the digressions and ornaments, which it only wanted a higher degree of skill to render as splendid and attractive as they were various, and the sentiments are almost throughout full of good sense and dignity. So much valued was the work on these accounts, that Berthelette, the printer, did not hesitate to dedicate his edition to Henry the Eighth, and in his epistle to the monarch, says, among many other things equally laudatory, that "whosoever in reading it doth consider it well, shall find that it is plentifully stuffed, and furnished with manifold eloquent reasons, sharp and quick arguments, and examples of great authority, persuading unto virtue, not only taken out of the poets, orators, history, writers, and philosophers, but also out of the Holy Scripture." To this he adds, that there is, in his opinion, "no man, but that he may, by reading of this work, get right great knowledge, as well for the understanding of many and divers customs, whose reasons, sayings, and histories, are translated into this work, as for the plenty of English words and vulgars, besides the furtherance of the life to virtue."

Gower was far advanced in years when he produced this poem. The most distinguished of his cotemporaries, Chaucer, had been his intimate friend from an early period of their life, and there are allusions in the works of each which show how sincerely both the one and the other esteemed the talents of his companion. Thus, in the Confessio Amantis,' the author makes Venus say—

Grete well Chaucer whan ye mete,

As my disciple and my poete,
For in the flours of his youth,
In sundrie wise, as he well couth,
Of detees, and of songes glade,

The which he for my sake made,
The loude fulfilled is over all:
Whereof to him in speciall

Above all other I am most holde.

In a similar spirit of compliment Chaucer thus concludes his Troilus and Cresside :-

O moral Gower, this boke I directe

To the, and to the philosophical Strode,
To vouchsafe there hede is for to conecte,
Of your benignities and zelis gode.

That similarity of tastes and pursuits for which these distinguished men were conspicuous, was fully sufficient to unite them in friendship, when there were so few others of like talent or disposition. But an additional cause has been assigned for their intimacy. While Chaucer possessed the patronage of John of Gaunt, Gower was equally attached to Thomas of Woodstock, duke of Gloucester, the other of the king's uncles who shared in the project of ruling the nation without the interference of the young monarch. In what degree our poet involved himself in political transactions cannot now be determined.