No More Learning

Apart from the national interests which were involved, the con-
troversy was exactly like that which raged between Oxford and
Cambridge in the sixteenth century as to the date of their
foundations, and it led to the same tampering with evidence.
Wyntoun has no claims to the name of poet. He is a chronicler,
and would himself have been surprised to be found in the company
of the 'makaris. '
It was at the instance of 'Schir Iohne of Wemys' that he com-
piled his chronicle. The original scheme was for seven books, but
the work was, later, extended to nine.
Wyntoun would not have been the child of his age and train-
ing did not the early part of his history contain many marvels.
We hear how Gedell-Glaiss, the son of Sir Newill, came out of
Scythia and married Scota, Pharaoh's daughter. Being, naturally,
unpopular with the Egyptian nobility, he then emigrated to Spain
and founded the race which, in later days, appeared in Ireland
and Scotland. It is interesting to learn that Wyntoun identified
Gaelic and Basque, part of the Scottish stock remaining behind in
Spain,
And Scottis thai spek hallely,
And ar callyt Nawarry. II, 853 f.
And Simon Brek it was that first brought the Coronation Stone
from Spain to Ireland. The exact date before the Christian era is
given for all these important events.


## p. 131 (#149) ############################################

Andrew of Wyntoun 131
a
When Wyntoun arrives at the Christian dispensation and the
era of the saints, it is only natural that he should dwell with
satisfaction on the achievements of St Serf, to whom his own
priory was dedicated. St Serf was the ‘kyngis sone off Kanaan,'
who, leaving the kingdom to his younger brother, passed through
Alexandria, Constantinople and Rome. Hence, after he had been
seven years pope, his guiding angel conducted him through France.
He then took ship, arrived in the Firth of Forth and was advised
by St Adamnan to pass into Fife. Ultimately, after difficulties with
the Pictish king, he founded a church at Culross, and then passed
to the ‘Inche of Lowchlewyn. ' That he should raise the dead and
cast out devils was to be expected. A thief stole his pet lamb
and ate it. Taxed with the crime by the saint he denied it, but
was speedily convicted, for 'the schype thar bletyt in hys wayme? '
Wyntoun tells, not without sympathy, the story of that 'Duk of
Frissis,' who, with one foot already in the baptismal font, halted to
enquire whether more of his kindred were in hell or heaven. The
bishop of those days could have but one answer, whereupon the
duke said
Withe thai he cheyssit? bym to duel,
And said he dowtyt for to be
Reprewit wnkynde gif that he
Sulde withedraw hym in to deide 8
Fra his kyn til ane wncouthe leide“,
Til strangeris fra his awyn kytht,
Qwhar he was nwrist and bred wp withe,
Qwhar neuir nane was of his kyn,
Aulde na zonge, mare na myn,
That neuir was blenkyt withe that blayme.
'[Abrenuncio] for thi that schayme,'
He said, and of the fant he tuk
His fute, and hail he thar forsnyk
Cristyndome euir for to tas,
For til his freyndis he walde ga
Withe thaim stedfastly to duell
Euirmare in the pyne of hel 6.
Good churchman as Wyntoun is, he is not slow to tell of
wickedness in high places and duly relates the story of pope
Joan, with the curious addition
Scho was Inglis of nacion
Bicht willy of condicion
A burges douchtyr and his ayre
Prewe, pleyssande and richt fayr;
Thai callit bir fadyr Hob of Lyne7.
V, 6230, Cotton M8, S. T. S.
chose.
s in death.
a strange people.
• v, 5780 ff. , Cotton MS, S. T. S.
7 vi, 465, Cotton MS, S. T. S.
1
s take.
942


## p. 132 (#150) ############################################

132
The Earliest Scottish Literature
In this book (chap. 18) he also tells the most famous of all his
stories—Macbeth and the weird sisters, and the interview between
Malcolm and Macduff. But Wyntoun renders Macbeth more
justice than other writers,
zit in his tyme thar wes plente
Off gold and siluer, catall and feel.
He wes in iustice rycht lauchfull,
And till his liegis rycht awfulla.
Birnam wood comes to Dunsinane, and Macbeth, fleeing across
the Mounth, is slain ‘in to the wod of Lumfanane 3. '
With all his credulity, Wyntoun, in the later part of his
chronicle, is a most valuable source for the history of his country.
To him and to Fordun we are indebted for most of our knowledge
of early Scotland, since little documentary evidence of that
period survived the wreck that was wrought by Edward I.
1 sheep.
• Wemyss MS, 1929 ff. , S. T. S.
* Ibid. 2310.


## p. 133 (#151) ############################################

CHAPTER VI
JOHN GOWER
In spite of the progress which had been made in English
literature by the middle of the fourteenth century, it still
remained uncertain how far the cultured classes were prepared
to accept English as an instrument of expression for the higher
kinds of literature. With this uncertainty was bound up the
question whether, out of all the provincial varieties which had
existed during the Middle English period, a generally accepted
literary form of English could arise-something which would stand
towards the English dialects generally in the same relation that
Dante's volgare illustre, cardinale e cortigiano held towards the
dialects of Italy. Writers such as Robert of Gloucester and Robert
of Brunne had addressed themselves distinctly to those who were
unable to read French easily, and to whom even the new English
of the day was difficult, because so much interlarded with French.
They made occasional protests against the abnormal condition
of things under which English, instead of being the speech of the
whole nation, was degraded to the position of a language for the
unlearned, but they hardly seem to have conceived that their
labours should aim at removing this anomaly. It is true that a
considerable amount of English verse had been produced which
aimed at representing in the vulgar tongue the contents of the
continental romances, and, consequently, may be supposed to have
made an appeal to a more or less aristocratic audience. But we
.
find little that suggests court influence in those English translations
of French romances which abounded in the thirteenth and four-
teenth centuries. Their tendency is towards a popular rather
than a genuinely artistic verse form; and, when finally a school
arose which worked to some extent on artistic principles, it was
characterised more or less by a reversion to the old rule of allitera-
tion. This carried with it a good deal of archaism of language; so
that, notwithstanding the high poetical merit of such works as Pearl
and Sir Gawayne and the Grene Knight, it was not possible that


## p. 134 (#152) ############################################

134
John Gower
they should form the basis of a poetical development which should
reconcile English and French tastes in literature. To accomplish
this reconciliation was pre-eminently the task of Chaucer, who,
however, in genius and in culture was so far in advance of his
generation that he can hardly be regarded as, in any sense, typical.
The mere fact that he alone of the poets of his time was capable
of being vitally influenced by Italian literature, by Dante and
Boccaccio, is enough to remove him from the common level.
If we desire to set before ourselves a picture of what we may,
perhaps, call the normal development of English literature in its
progress towards general acceptance, we ought rather, perhaps, to
direct our attention to the work of one who, in a certain sense,
stands by the side of Chaucer, though he is a man of talent only,
not of genius—the author of Confessio Amantis.
John Gower was a man of considerable literary accomplishments,
and, though not very deeply read, he was possessed of most of the
information which passed current as learning. He was master of
three languages for the purpose of literary expression, and he
continued to use French and Latin side by side with English even
in the last years of the century. As a man of culture, his attitude
towards English was at first one of suspicion, and, indeed, of rejection.
There is no evidence that he wrote his French ballades in the
earlier period of his career; but, unquestionably, his first work of
considerable extent was in French, the recently recovered Speculum
Meditantis or Mirour de l'Omme. His next venture was in Latin
elegiacs; and it was not till nearly the last decade of the century
that, encouraged, perhaps, by the example of Chaucer, he adopted
English as his vehicle of literary expression. To the end, he was
probably doubtful whether a poet ought to trust to his English
works for a permanent reputation.
Gower was undoubtedly of a Kentish family : the arms on
his tomb are the same as those of Sir Robert Gower of Brabourne.
Some documents which have been cited to prove that John Gower
was a landowner in Kent probably refer to another person; but one
instrument, which undoubtedly has reference to the poet, describes
him as 'Esquier de Kent,' and it may be affirmed with certainty
that he was a layman. There is no evidence to prove that he led
the life of a country gentleman, but he was certainly a man of
some wealth, and was the owner of at least two manors, one in
Norfolk and the other in Suffolk, which, however, he leased to
others. It seems probable that, for the most part, he resided in
London, and he was personally known both to Richard II and to


## p. 135 (#153) ############################################

Life
135
the family of John of Gaunt. For some years in the latter part of
his life he resided in lodgings assigned to him within the Priory
of St Mary Overes, Southwark, of which house he was a liberal
benefactor. He died at an advanced age in the year 1408, having
lost his eyesight some years before this, and was buried in a
magnificent tomb with a recumbent effigy, in the church of the
Priory, now St Saviour's, Southwark, where the tomb is still to be
seen, though not in its original state nor quite in its original
position. He had been married in 1998, while living in the Priory,
to one Agnes Groundolf, who survived him, but there are some
indications in his early French work that the author had had a
wife before this. That he was acquainted with Chaucer we know
on good evidence. In May 1378, Chaucer, on leaving England for
Italy, appointed Gower and another to act for him under a general
power of attorney during his absence. A few years later, Chaucer
addressed his Troilus and Criseyde to Gower and Strode, to be
criticised and corrected where need was,
O moral Gower, this book I directe
To thee, and to thee, philosophical Strode,
To vouchen sauf, ther nede is, to correcte,
Of your benignetes and zeles gode.
Finally, Gower, in Confessio Amantis, pays a tribute to Chaucer
as a poet of love in the lines which he puts into the mouth of
Venus,
And gret wel Chaucer, whan ye mete,
As mi disciple and mi poete:
For in the foures of his youthe
In sondri wise, as he wel couthe,
Of ditees and of songes glade,
The whiche be for mi sake made,
The lond fulfild is overal:
Wherof to him in special
Above alle othre I am most holde, eto.
Conf. Am. VIII, 2941* 11.
These lines were omitted in the later forms of the text, and
upon this fact, combined with a supposed reference to Gower
in the Canterbury Tales, as the author of immoral stories,
has been founded the notion of a bitter quarrel between the
two poets. But of this there is no sufficient evidence. The
omission of the greeting to Chaucer may be plausibly explained on
grounds connected with the mechanical circumstances of the revision
of Confessio Amantis; and Chaucer's reference is, apparently,
of a humorous character, the author of the not very decent tales
of the miller, the reeve and the merchant taking advantage of his


## p. 136 (#154) ############################################

136
John Gower
1
opportunity to reprove the ‘moral Gower' for selecting improper
subjects.
The development of Gower's political opinions may be traced
in his writings, and especially in the successive alterations
which he made in the text of Vox Clamantis and Confessio
Amantis, as years went on and the situation changed. When
Vox Clamantis was first written, no blame whatever was attached
to the youthful king, who, at the time of the Peasants' rising,
was only in his fifteenth year. In the earlier version of the poem,
as now recovered from the Dublin and Hatfield MSS, we have,
The boy himself is blameless, but his councillors are not without
fault. . . . If the king were of mature age, he would redress the
balance of justice' (v1, 555* ff. ), and again, 'I pray God to preserve
my young king, and let him live long and see good days. . . . O king,
mayest thou ever hold thy sceptre with honour and triumph, as
Augustus did at Rome. . . . 0 flower of boyhood, according to thy
worthiness I wish thee prosperity' (vi, 1167* ff. ). In the later
version of the first passage we have, written over erasure in the
author's own copies, 'The king, an undisciplined youth, neglects
the moral acts, by which he might grow from a boy to a man. . . .
What he desires is desired also by his youthful companions ; he
enters upon the road, and they follow him. . . . Older men too give
way to him for gain, and pervert the justice of the king's court'
(VI, 555 ff. ). And the second passage runs as follows (in effect):
*The king is honoured above all, so long as his acts are good, but
if the king is avaricious and proud, the people is grieved. Not all
that a king desires is expedient for him : he has a charge laid
upon him, and must maintain law and do justice. O king, do
away with the evils of thy reign, restore the laws and banish
crime: let thy people be subject to thee for love and not for
fear' (v1, 1159 ff. ). These alterations were evidently made while
the king was still young, but at a time when he was regarded as
fully responsible for the government. In 1390, when Confessio
Amantis was first completed, and when the author's summary of
his three principal works, which was appended to it, may be supposed
to have been first written, the innocence of the king as regards the
events of the year 1381 is still carefully asserted, and, from the
manner in which the king is spoken of in the first edition of Con-
fessio Amantis itself, both at the beginning and at the end of the
poem, we know that the author had not yet abandoned his hope that
the king, who even then was hardly more than three and twenty,
might prove to be endowed with those qualities of justice and mercy
1


## p. 137 (#155) ############################################

Political Opinions
137
>
which were necessary for a successful reign (VIII, 2970* ff. ). Very
soon, however, he saw reason to abandon these hopes; within a
year, he composed an alternative version of his epilogue, in which his
prayers for the king were changed into prayers for the good govern-
ment of the land; and, finally, in 1392 or 1393, instead of the lines in
the prologue in which reference was made to the king's suggestion
of the work, he inserted others in which the book was said to have
been written for England's sake, and was presented not to the king,
but to his cousin Henry of Lancaster, to whose person the author
had already transferred some of the hopes and aspirations which
had previously centred in the king. It is probable that these
changes were made in a few copies only, which either remained in
the hands of the author, like the Fairfax MS, in which we can trace
the actual process of the change, made by erasure and substitution
of leaves, or were written for presentation to Henry himself, as is
probably the case with the Stafford MS. By far the larger number
of existing copies are of the earlier form. Gradually, Gower's spirit
became more and more embittered, as the king's self-indulgence
and arbitrary rule more and more belied his hopes of reformation;
and in the final edition of his note upon his works, written after
the fall of Richard, he omits all mention of the early events of the
reign and of the king's youth and innocence, and represents Vox
Clamantis as dealing generally with the evils of the time, for
which the king is held primarily responsible by reason of his in-
justice and cruelty. Finally, in Cronica Tripertita the misfortunes
which have overtaken Richard II are shown to be the natural
consequences of a course of evil government and treachery, and in
the English stanzas addressed to Henry IV the author's ideal of a
king, as one who above all things should promote peace at home
and abroad, is set forth with the enthusiasm of one who, after long
waiting, at length sees his hopes for his country fulfilled.
The literary work of Gower is represented chiefly by those
three books upon which the head of his effigy rests in St Saviour's
Church, the French Speculum Meditantis (or Speculum Hominis,
as it was originally called), the Latin Vox clamantis, and the
English Confessio Amantis. Let us first observe what he tells
us himself of these works, in the Latin note already referred to,
which is found, with variations, in most of the manuscripts :
Since every man is bound to impart to others in proportion as he has
himself received from God, John Gower, desiring in some measure to lighten
the account of his stewardship, while yet there was time, with regard to those
mental gifts which God had given him, amid his labours and in his leisure


## p. 138 (#156) ############################################

138
John Gower
composed three books for the information and instruction of others, in the
form which follows.
The first book, written in the French language, is divided into ten parts,
and, treating of vices and of virtues, as also of the various conditions of men
in the world, endeavours rightly to teach the way by which the sinner who
has trespassed onght to return to the knowledge of his Creator. And the
title of this book is Speculum Meditantis1.
The second book, metrically composed in the Latin language, treats of
the various misfortunes which happened in England in the time of king
Richard II, whence not only the nobles and commons of the realm suffered
great evils, but the cruel king himself, falling from on high by his own evil
doings, was at length hurled into the pit which he dug himself. And the
name of this volume is Vox Clamantis.
The third book, which was written in the English language in honour of
his most valorous lord Henry of Lancaster, then earl of Derby, marks out the
times from the reign of Nebuchadnezzar until now, in accordance with the
prophecy of Daniel on the changes of the kingdoms of this world. It treats,
also, in accordance with Aristotle, of the matters in which king Alexander
was instructed by his discipline, both for the governance of himself and for
other ends. But the chief matter of the book is founded upon love, and the
infatuated passions of lovers. And the name appropriated to this work is
Confessio Amantis,
The author conceives, then, of his literary work as essentially
didactic in character, and of himself as fulfilling a mission in
making use, for the benefit of his own generation, of the gifts
which he has received. This, of course, was a quite usual stand-
point. It was a didactic age, and Gower was fully in sympathy
with the prevailing tendency to edification; but his books, on the
whole, have a somewhat higher literary quality than might be
supposed from his description of them.
The French work is placed first of these three books by the
author, and, no doubt, it came first in the order of time. It contains
evidence, however, that this was not his first literary essay, for he
speaks in it of earlier poems of a light and amorous kind, the
composition of which he now regrets. It is not necessary to
suppose that these fols ditz d'amours are identical with the
Cinkante Balades which, near the close of his life, he dedicated
to Henry IV. The passage referred to seems to speak of some-
thing lighter and in a more lyrical vein.
1 In the first edition of this statement, the title is Speculum Hominis, corresponding
to the French form Mirour de l'Omme.
In the earlier form of the statement (1890), the author speaks of the insurrection
made by the serfs against the nobles and gentry of the kingdom, and takes occasion
to free the king from all blame by reason of his tender age. The form which is
given above is, in fact, a reference to the later politios of the reign, rather than to the
period dealt with in Vox Clamantis.
8 In the earlier form 'at the instance of hi lord. . . King Richard the second. '
4 Mirour de l'Omme, 27,337 ff.


## p. 139 (#157) ############################################

Literary Productions
139
Speculum Meditantis has come down to us in a single
copy, under the French title Mirour de l'Omme. For several
centuries it disappeared from view and was supposed to have
perished. “Of the Speculum Meditantis. . . no trace remains,'
wrote Courthope in the year 1895'. But in that very year
a copy, slightly imperfect, was discovered in the Cambridge
University Library, to which it had lately come by the sale of a
private library; and, though it bears no author's name, it has
been identified with certainty by its correspondence with the
author's description of his work, and by comparison of the style
and substance with those of Gower's other works'.
In this, the first of the three principal works, we have in its
most systematic, and, consequently, its least attractive, form, the
material which forms the groundwork also of the others. It is, in
fact, a combination in one scheme of all the principal kinds of
moral composition which were current in that age, the Somme
des Vices et des Vertus, the États des hommes, and the
metrical summary of Scripture history and legend. The scheme
is of a very ambitious character. It is intended to cover the
whole field of man's religious and moral nature, to set forth
the purposes of Providence in dealing with him, to describe
the various degrees of society and the faults specially charge-
able to each class of men and, finally, to explain the method
which should be followed by man in order to reconcile himself
to the God whom he has offended by his sin. The author shows
a certain amount of ingenuity in combining all this in a single
scheme: he does not merely reproduce the current form of treat-
ment, but aspires to a certain degree of literary unity, which
distinguishes his work from that of writers like the author of the
Manuel des Pechiez. Such works as this last were intended for
practical purposes : Gower's poem aspires to be a work of literary
art, however little we may be disposed to allow it that title. The
following is the account which William of Wadington gives of his
design at the beginning of the Manuel des Pechiez (the original of
Robert of Brunne's Handlyng Synne), which, it must be remem-
bered, has the form of a poem.
May the power of the Holy Spirit aid us to set forth the matters with
regard to which a man should make his confession, and also in what manner
1 Hist. of English Poetry, 1, p. 308.
· See Macaulay's edition of Gower, Vol. 1, pp. XXV—zli, and lxviii-lxxi.
Previous enquirers had been misled by the expectation that the book, if found, would
bear the title Speculum Meditantis, not sufficiently observing that this title was adopted
long after its first production.


## p. 140 (#158) ############################################

140
John Gower
it should be made. . . . First we will tell of the true faith, which is the foundation
of our law. . . . Then we will set down the commandments which all ought to
keep; then the seven mortal sins, whence so many evils arise. . . . Then you will
find, if you please, the seven sacraments of holy Church. . . . Then you will find
a sermon on fear and how you ought to feel fear and love. You will then find
a book on Confession which will be proper for everyone.
All this is strictly practical, and there is no attempt at artistic
structure. Gower's work more nearly resembles such composi-
tions as those of the Reclus de Moiliens, written at the end of the
twelfth century in the same twelve-line stanza as he uses; but the
Mirour de l'Omme is far more comprehensive, as well as more sys-
tematic, than the Charité or the Miserere of the Reclus. In his
review of the estates of men, however, and especially in his manner
of addressing the representatives of the various classes, when
accusing them of their faults, Gower's work often strikingly re-
sembles these well-known French compositions, with which, as well
as with the Vers de la Mort of Hélinand de Froidmont, written in
the same metre, he must, of course, have been acquainted. We may
reasonably assume that the Miserere of the Reclus de Moiliens was
one of Gower's principal models both of style and versification.
The general scheme of the Mirour de l'Omme is as follows.
Sin, the cause of all evils, is a daughter of the Devil, who, upon
her, has engendered Death. Death and Sin, then intermarrying,
have produced the seven deadly Vices; and the Devil sends Sin
and her seven daughters into the world to defeat the designs of
Providence for the salvation of Man. Temptation is sent as a
messenger to Man, who is invited to meet the Devil and his council.
He comes; and the Devil, Sin and the World successively address
him with promises. The Flesh of Man consents to be ruled by
them, but the Soul expostulates with the Flesh, who is thus
resolved upon a course which will ruin them both. The Flesh
wavers, but is unable to give up the promised delights, until the
Soul informs her of Death, who has been concealed from her view,
and calls in Reason and Fear to convince her. The Flesh is
terrified and brought back to Reason by Conscience, and thus the
design of the Devil and Sin is, for the time, frustrated (1—750).
Sin, thereupon, makes marriages between all her daughters and the
World, so that offspring may be produced by means of which Man
may be overcome. They all go in procession to the wedding.
Each in turn is taken in marriage by the World, and by each he
has five daughters, all of whom are described at length. The
daughters of Pride, for example, are Hypocrisy, Vain Glory, Arro-
gance, Avantance, Disobedience, and so with the rest (751—9720).


## p. 141 (#159) ############################################

Mirour de l'Omme
I4I
a
They all make a violent attack upon Man, and he surrenders him-
self to them (9721–10,032). Reason and Conscience pray to God
for assistance, and seven Virtues, the contraries of the Vices, are
given in marriage to Reason, each of whom has five daughters,
described, of course, in detail, as in the case of the Vices and their
progeny (10,033—18,372).
A strife ensues for the conquest of Man. To decide who has
gained the victory up to the present time, the author undertakes
to examine the whole of human society from the court of Rome
downwards; but he declares his opinion in advance that Sin has
almost wholly prevailed (18,373—18,420).
Every estate of Man is passed in review and condemned ; all
have been corrupted and all throw the blame on the world (or the
age) (18,421—26,604). The poet addresses the world, and asks
whence comes this evil. Is it from earth, water, air or fire?
From none of these, for all these in themselves are good. It is
from Man that all the evils of the age arise. Man is a microcosm,
an abridgment of the world, and, when he transgresses, all the
elements are disturbed. On the other hand the good and just man
can command the powers of the material world, as the saints have
always done by miracles. Every man, therefore, ought to desire
to repent of his sin and turn to God, so that the world may be
amended. The author confesses himself as great a sinner as any
man, but he trusts in the mercy of Jesus Christ. But how can he
escape from his sins, how can he dare to come before God? Only
by the help of Mary, Maid and Mother, who will intercede for him
if he can obtain her favour (26,605—27,468). Therefore, before
finishing his task, he will tell of her birth, her life and her death;
and, upon this, he relates the whole story of the Virgin, including
the Gospel narrative generally, and ending with her assumption,
and concludes, as we have the book, with praises addressed to her
under the various names by which she is called (27,469—29,945).
This, it will be seen, is a literary work with a due connection
of parts, and not a mere string of sermons. At the same time it
must be said that the descriptions of vices and virtues are of such
inordinate length that the effect of unity is almost completely lost,
and the book becomes tiresome to read. We are wearied also by
the accumulation of texts and authorities, and by the unqualified
character of the moral judgments. The author of the book shows
little sense of proportion and little or no dramatic power.
In the invention of his allegory and in the method by which
the various parts of his work are combined, Gower displays


## p. 142 (#160) ############################################

142
John Gower
some originality. The style is uniformly respectable, though
very monotonous. There are a few stories, but they are not told
in much detail and are much inferior in interest to those of
Confessio Amantis. Yet the work is not without some poetical
merit. Every now and then we have a touch of description
or a graceful image, which proves that the writer is not merely
a moralist, but also, to some extent, a poet. The priest who neglects
his early morning service is reminded of the example of the lark,
who, rising early, mounts circling upward and pours forth from his
little throat a service of praise to God. Again, Praise is like the
bee that flies over the meadows in the sunshine, gathering that
which is sweet and fragrant, but avoiding all evil odours. The
robe of Conscience is like a cloud with ever-changing hues.
Devotion is like the sea-shell, which opens to the dew of heaven,
and thus conceives the fair, white pearl-an idea neither true to
nature nor original, but gracefully expressed. Other descriptions
also have merit, as, for example, that of the procession of the
Vices to their wedding.
The most remarkable feature of the style, however, is the
mastery which the writer displays over the language and the verse.
The rhythm is not exactly that which properly belongs to French
verse: it betrays its English origin by the fact that, though strictly
syllabic, and, in that respect, far more correct than most of the
French verse written in England, it is, nevertheless, also to some
extent an accent verse, wanting in that comparative evenness
of stress on accented and unaccented syllables alike which charac-
terises French verse.
The author of the Mirour usually proceeds on the English
principle of alternate strong and weak stress corresponding mainly
to the accentual value of the syllables. Thus, when Gower quotes
from Hélinand's Vers de la Mort, the original French lines,
Tex me couve dessous ses dras,
Qui quide estre tous fors et sains,
become, in Gower's Anglo-French,
Car tiel me couve soubz ses dras,
Qassetz quide estre fortz et seins ;
and the difference here is characteristic generally of the difference
between French and English verse rhythm.
This is a matter of some importance in connection with the
development of the highly artificial English metre employed by
Chaucer, and also by Gower and Occleve, which depended pre-


## p. 143 (#161) ############################################

Vox Clamantis
143
cisely upon this kind of combination of the French syllabic
principle with the English accent principle--a combination which,
though occasionally effected earlier, was so alien to English
traditions that it could not survive the changes caused in the
literary language by the loss of weak inflectional syllables; and,
therefore, in the fifteenth century, English metre, for a time, prac-
tically collapsed. In Chaucer's metre we see only the final results
of the French influence; in the case of Gower the process by
which the transition took place from the couplets of Handlyng
Synne to those of Confessio Amantis is clearly exhibited.
As regards matter, the most valuable part of the Mirour de
TOmme is that which contains the review of the various classes
of society, whence interesting information may often be drawn to
illustrate the social condition of the people. This is especially the
case as regards city life in London, with which the author is
evidently familiar; and he describes for us meetings of city
dames at the wine-shops, the various devices of shopkeepers to
attract custom and to cheat their customers, and the scandalous
adulteration of food and drink. The extravagance of merchants,
the discontent and luxury of labourers, and the corruption of the
law-courts are all vigorously denounced; and the church, in the
opinion of our author, is in need of reform from the top to the
bottom. Gower's picture is not relieved by any such pleasing
exception as the parish priest of the Canterbury Tales.
The material which we find in the Mirour de l'Omme is, to a
great extent, utilised again, and, in particular, the account given
of the various classes of society is substantially repeated, in
Gower's next work, the Latin Vox clamantis. Here, however,
a great social and political event is made the text for his criticism
of society. The Peasants' rising of 1381 was, to some extent,
a fulfilment of the prophecies contained in the Mirour, and it
naturally made a strong impression upon Gower, whose native
county was deeply affected, and who must have been a witness
of some of its scenes. The poem is in Latin elegiac couplets, and ·
extends to about ten thousand lines. The first book, about one-
fifth of the whole, contains a graphic account of the insurrection, -
under a more or less allegorical form, which conveys a strong
impression of the horror and alarm of the well-to-do classes.
There is an artistic contrast between the beautiful and
peaceful scene which is described at the opening of the work,
and the vague horrors by which the landscape is afterwards
darkened. The description of these events, especially so far as
.
.
P


## p. 144 (#162) ############################################

144
John Gower
it deals with what took place in London, is the most interesting
portion of the work; but it is quite possible, nevertheless, that
this may have been an afterthought. The remainder is indepen-
dent of it, and the second book begins in a style which suggests
that, originally, it stood nearer to the beginning of the work.
Moreover, in one manuscript' the whole of the first book is
actually omitted, and no mention at all of the Peasants' rising
occurs. In any case, the main substance of Vox Clamantis is an
indictment of human society, the corruptions of which are said to
be the cause of all the evils of the world. The picture which
appears in several manuscripts of the author aiming his arrows at
the world fairly represents its scope. The doctrine of the Mirour
that Man is a microcosm, the evil and disorder of which affects
the whole constitution of the elements, while the goodness of Man
enables him to subdue the material world, is found again here;
and the orders of men are examined and condemned much in the
same way, except that the political portion is more fully and
earnestly dwelt upon. Of the gradual development of Gower's
political feelings we have already said something.
There is no need to dwell much upon the poetical style of
Gower's Latin poems. Judged by the medieval standard, Vox
Clamantis is fairly good in language and in metre, but the fact
has recently been pointed out that a very large number both of
couplets and longer passages are borrowed by the author without
acknowledgment from other writers, and that lines for which
Gower has obtained credit are, in many cases, taken either from
Ovid or from some medieval writer of Latin verse, as Alexander
Neckam, Peter de Riga, Godfrey of Viterbo, or the author
of Speculum Stultorum, passages of six or eight lines being
often appropriated in this manner with little or no change. It
is certain that Gower could write very fair Latin verse, due
allowance being made for medieval licences, but we must be cautious
in giving him credit for any particular passage. In the mean time
we may observe that his contemporary account of the Peasants'
rising has some historical importance; that the development of
his political opinions, as seen in the successive revisions of Vox
Clamantis, is of interest in connection with the general circum-
stances of the reign of Richard II; and that the description of
social customs, and, particularly, of matters connected with the
city of London, confirms the account given in the Mirour.
1 Laud 719.
? See Macaulay's Gower, Vol. IV, p. xxxii, and the notes passim


## p. 145 (#163) ############################################

Confessio Amantis
145
As regards the motives which determined Gower to the com-
position of a book in English, we have his own statement in the first
edition of the book itself, that, on a certain occasion, when he was
in a boat upon the Thames near London, he met the royal barge,
and was invited by the king to enter it; that, in the conversation
which ensued, it was suggested to him that he should write some
new book, to be presented to the king; and that he thereupon
adopted the resolution of composing a poem in English, which
should combine pleasure and instruction, upon the subject of
love.
It is not necessary, however, to assume that this incident, which
was put forward by the author as a reason for the presentation
of his book to Richard, was actually the determining factor of
his decision to write in English. The years which followed
the composition of Vox clamantis, assuming it to have been
produced about 1382, were a period of hitherto unexampled
productiveness in English poetry. Chaucer, at this time, had
attained almost to the full measure of his powers, and the suc-
cessive production of Troilus and Criseyde, partly addressed to
Gower himself, about 1383, and of The Legend of Good Women,
about 1386, must have supplied a stimulus of the very strongest
kind, not only by way of recommending the use of the English
language, but also in suggesting some modification of the strictly
didactic tone which Gower had hitherto taken in his larger works.
The statement that to Gower's Confessio Amantis Chaucer
owed the idea of a connected series of tales is quite without
foundation, The Legend of Good Women certainly preceded
Confessio Amantis, which bears distinct marks of its influence,
and in The Legend of Good Women we have already a series of
tales set in a certain framework, though the framework is slight,
and no conversation connects the tales. Even if we suppose
Chaucer to have been unacquainted with Boccaccio's prose, a
supposition for which there is certainly some ground, he was fully
capable of evolving the scheme of The Canterbury Tales without
the assistance of Gower. On the other hand the influence of
Chaucer must certainly have been very strong in regard to Gower's
English work, which was probably composed in the years between
1386 and 1390, the latter year being the date of the completion of
the first edition of the poem.
The most noteworthy point of Confessio Amantis, as com-
pared with Gower's former works, is the partial renunciation by
the author of his didactic purpose. He does, indeed, indulge
10
B. L. II.
OH. VI.


## p. 146 (#164) ############################################

146
John Gower
himself in a prologue, in which he reviews the condition of the
human race; but, at the beginning of the first book, he announces
the discovery that his powers are not equal to the task of setting
the world to rights :
It stant noght in my suficance
So grete thinges to compasse,
Bot I mot lete it overpasse
And treten upon other thinges.
He avows, therefore, that, from this day forth, he intends to change
the style of his writings, and to deal with a subject which is of
universal interest, namely love. At the same time, he will not
wholly renounce his function of teaching, for love is a matter in
which men need very much guidance, but, at least, he will treat of
the subject in such a way as to entertain as well as instruct: the
book is to be
betwen the tweie,
Somwhat of lust, somwhat of lore.
Hence, though the form may suggest instruction, yet the mode
of treatment is to be popular, that is to say, the work is to consist
largely of stories. Accordingly, we have in Confessio Amantis
more than a hundred stories of varying length and of every kind
of origin, told in a simple and pleasing style by one who clearly
had a gift for story-telling, though without the dramatic humour
which makes Chaucer's stories unique in the literature of his time.
The framework, too, in which these stories are set, is pleasing.
The Lover, that is to say the author himself, is one who
has been long in the service of love, but without reward, and
is now of years which almost unfit him for such service.
Wandering forth into a wood in the month of May he feels
despair and wishes for death. The god and the goddess of love
appear to him; but the god passes him by with an angry look,
casting, at the same time, a fiery lance which pierces his heart.
The goddess remains, and to her be makes his complaint that he
has served long and received no wages. She frowns upon him,
and desires to know what service it is that he has done, and what
malady oppresses him. He professes readiness to reply, but she
enjoins upon him first a confession to be made to her priest Genius,
who, if he is satisfied, will give him absolution, and she will then
consider his case. Accordingly, Genius is summoned and Venus
disappears. The Lover, after some preliminary conversation, is
examined with regard to his sins against love, the examination
being arranged under the usual heading of the seven deadly sins


## p. 147 (#165) ############################################

Confessio Amantis
147
and their subordinate vices. The subdivision which we find in
the earlier books of Confessio Amantis is the same as that
which we have already encountered in Gower's Mirour: each sin is
regarded as having five principal offshoots ; but, in the latter
half of the work, this regularity of subdivision is, to a great
extent, abandoned. In the case of each of the subordinate vices
the confessor sets forth the nature of the fault, and, at the
request of the Lover, illustrates his meaning by a story or by a
series of stories. In each case, after explanation of the nature
,
of the vice, & special application is made to the case of love, and
the stories illustrate either the general definition or this special
application, or both, no very clear line being drawn in many cases
between the two. The Lover, meanwhile, when he has at last been
made to understand the nature of the fault generally and also its
particular application to love, makes his confession or denial as
regards his love, and is further instructed or rebuked by the
confessor. By the general plan, one book should have been
devoted to each of the seven principal sins, Pride, Envy, Anger,
Sloth, Avarice, Gluttony and Lechery; but an additional book is
interpolated between the last two, dealing with quite irrelevant
matters, and, in general, there is much irregularity of plan in the
last four books, by which the unity of construction is seriously
marred. The ordinary conduct of the work may be illustrated
by a short summary of the second book, the subject of which is
Envy.
The first of the brood of Envy is Sorrow for another's joy. The
Lover confesses that he is often guilty of this in regard to his rivals,
and he is reproved by the tale of Acis and Galatea. He accepts
the rebuke and promises to offend no more. The second vice under
this head is Joy for another’s grief. To this, too, the Lover pleads
guilty, and the odious character of the vice is illustrated by the
story of the traveller and the angel, in which one man preferred
to lose an eye in order that his fellow might lose both. The third
is Detraction, and here, too, the Lover admits that he has been in
some measure guilty. When he sees lovers come about his mistress
with false tales, he is sometimes moved to tell her the worst that he
knows of them. The confessor reproves him. By the Lover's own
account, his lady is wise and wary, and there is no need to tell her
these tales : moreover, she will like him the less for being envious.
The vice of Detraction is then illustrated by the tale of Constance,
who long suffered from envious backbiting, but whose love at length
prevailed. Then, again, there is the story of Demetrius and Perseus,
10-2


## p. 148 (#166) ############################################

148
John Gower
in which Perseus brought his brother to death by false accusations,
but suffered punishment himself at last. The confessor passes then
to the fourth vice, named False Semblant. When Envy desires to
deceive, she employs False Semblant as her messenger. The Lover
admits here, too, that he is guilty, but only in matters which concern
his mistress. He thinks himself justified in gaining the confidence of
her other lovers by an appearance of friendship, and using the know-
ledge which he thus obtains to hinder their designs. The confessor
reproves him, and cites the case of the Lombards in the city, who
feign that which is not, and take from Englishmen the profit of
their own land. He then relates the tale of Hercules and Deianira,
and how Nessus deceived her and destroyed him at last by False
Semblant. Yet there is a fifth vice born of Envy, and that is
Supplantation. The Lover declares that here he is guiltless in act,
though guilty in his thought and desire. If he had the power, he
would supplant others in the love of his lady. The confessor warns
him that thought as well as act is sin, and convinces him of the
heinousness of this particular crime by a series of short examples,
Agamemnon and Achilles, Diomede and Troilus, Amphitryon and
Geta, and also by the longer tale of the False Bachelor. This evil
is worst when Pride and Envy are joined together, as when pope
Celestine was supplanted by Boniface; and this tale also is told at
length. The Lover, convinced of the evil of Envy, desires a remedy,
and the confessor reminds him that vices are destroyed by their
contraries, and the contrary to Envy is Charity. To illustrate this
virtue the tale is told of Constantine, who, by showing mercy,
obtained mercy. The Lover vows to eschew Envy, and asks that
penance may be inflicted for that which he has done amiss.
In the other books, the scheme is somewhat similar, and, at
length, in the eighth the confession is brought to a close, and the
Lover demands his absolution. The confessor advises him to
abandon love and to set himself under the rule of reason. He,
strongly protesting, presents a petition to Venus, who, in answer,
consents to relieve him, though perhaps not in the way that he
desires. She speaks of his age and counsels him to make a beau
retret, and he grows cold for sorrow of heart and lies swooning on
the ground. Then he sees the god of love, and, with him, a great
company of former lovers arrayed in sundry bands under the guid-
ance of Youth and Eld. Youth takes no heed of him; but those
who follow Eld entreat for him with Venus, and all the lovers
press round to see. At length Cupid comes towards him and draws
forth the fiery lance with which he had formerly pierced the Lover's


## p. 149 (#167) ############################################

Confessio Amantis
149
heart; and Venus anoints the wound with a cooling ointment and
gives him a mirror in which his features are reflected. Reason
returns to him, and he becomes sober and sound. Venus, laughing,
asks him what love is, and he replies with confusion that he knows
not, and prays to be excused from attendance upon her. He
obtains his absolution, and Venus bids him stay no more in her
court, but go 'wher moral vertu dwelleth,' where the books are
which men say that he has written; and so she bids him adieu and
departs. He stands for a while amazed, and then takes his way
softly homewards.
The plan of the work is not ill conceived; but, unfortunately, it
is carried out without a due regard to proportion in its parts, and
its unity is very seriously impaired by digressions which have
nothing to do with the subject of the book. After the prologue,
the first four books are conducted in a comparatively orderly
manner, though the discussion on the lawfulness of war in the
third can hardly be regarded as necessary, and the account of
the discovery of useful arts in the fourth is too slightly connected
with the subject. In the fifth book, however, a casual reference to
Greek mythology is made the peg on which to hang a dissertation of
twelve hundred lines on the religions of the world, while, in the sixth
book, the discussion of Sorcery, with the stories first of Ulysses and
Telegonus and then of Nectanabus, can hardly be regarded as
a justifiable extension of the subject of Gluttony. Worse than
this, the tale of Nectanabus is used as a pretext for bringing in as
a diversion a summary of all earthly learning, the supposed instruc-
tions of Aristotle to Alexander, which fills up the whole of the
seventh book'. The most important part of this is the treatise on
Politics, under five heads, illustrated by many interesting stories,
which occupies nearly four thousand lines. To this part of his
work, which is absolutely irrelevant to the main subject, the
author evidently attached great importance; and it is, in fact,
another lecture aimed at the king, at whose suggestion the book
was written, the author being unable to keep himself from im-
proving the occasion. This proceeding, together with the great
extension which has been given to Avarice in the fifth book, has
the effect of almost entirely anticipating the proper contents of the
eighth book. Nothing remains to be spoken of there except
Incest, with reference to which the tale of Apollonius of Tyre is
| The statement, often repeated, that Gower is largely indebted to the Secretum
Secretorum in this seventh book is quite inaccurate; very little is, in fact, drawn from
this source. The Trésor of Brunetto Latini is a much more important authority.


## p. 150 (#168) ############################################

150
John Gower
told, and this, after all, has no sufficient bearing upon the subject to
justify its inordinate length. It may justly be remarked, also, that
the representation of the priest of Venus is full of absurd incon-
gruities, which reach their climax, perhaps, when he is made to
denounce Venus herself as a false goddess. In general, the
characters of the moralist and of the high-priest of love are
very awkwardly combined in his person, and of this fact the
author shows himself conscious in several passages, as I, 237 ff.
and vi, 1421 ff. The quasi-religious treatment of the subject was,
no doubt, in accordance with the taste of the age, and there is a
certain charm of quaintness both in this and in the gravity with
which morality is applied to the case of love, though this applica-
tion is often very forced. It must be admitted, also, that the
general plan of the poem shows distinct originality, and, apart from
the digressions and irrelevancies which have been noted, it is carried
through with some success. The idea of combining a variety of
stories in a single framework, with the object of illustrating moral
truths, had become familiar in the literature of western Europe
chiefly through a series of books which were all more or less of
Oriental origin. Of these, the most important were the legend of
Barlaam and Josaphat, the romance of the Seven Sages in its
various forms and Disciplina Clericalis. With these, Gower,
as we know, was acquainted, and also, doubtless, with various
examples of the attempt to utilise such stories for definitely
religious purposes in such edifying compositions as those of William
of Wadington and Robert of Brunne. Moreover, Chaucer, in his
Legend of Good Women, had already produced a series of stories
in an allegorical framework, though the setting was rather slight
and the work was left unfinished. The influence of Chaucer's
work is apparent in the opening and concluding scenes of Con-
fessio Amantis, and some suggestions were also derived from
the Roman de la Rose, in which Genius is the priest of Nature,
who makes her confession to him. But no previous writer, either
in English or in any other modern language, had versified so large
and various a collection of stories, or had devised so ingenious and
elaborate a scheme of combination.
As regards the stories themselves, there is, of course, no pretence
of originality in substance. They are taken from very various
places, from Ovid (much the most frequent source), from the Bible,
from Valerius Maximus, Statius, Benoit de Sainte More, Guido
delle Colonne, Godfrey of Viterbo, Brunetto Latini, Nicholas
Trivet, the Roman des Sept Sages, Vita Barlaam et Josaphat,


## p. 151 (#169) ############################################

Confessio Amantis
151
Historia Alexandri and so on'. Gower's style of narration is
simple and clear; in telling a story he is neither tedious nor
apt to digress. To find fault with him because he is lacking
in humorous appreciation of character is to judge him by
altogether too high a standard. He is not on a level with Chaucer,
but he is distinctly above the level of most of the other story-
tellers of his time, and it may even be said that he is sometimes
superior to Chaucer himself in the arrangement of his incidents
and in the steadiness with which he pursues the plot of his story.
Gower is by no means a slavish follower of his authorities, the pro-
portions and arrangement of his stories are usually his own, and
they often show good judgment. Moreover, he not seldom gives a
fresh turn to a well-known story, as in the Bible instances of
Jephthah and Saul, or makes a pretty addition to it, as in the case
of the tales from Ovid of Narcissus or of Acis and Galatea. His
gift of clear and interesting narrative was, undoubtedly, the merit
which most appealed to the popular taste of the day, and the
plainness of the style was rather an advantage than a draw-
back
The stories, however, have also poetical qualities. Force and
picturesqueness cannot be denied to the story of Medea, with its
description of the summer sun blazing down upon the glistening
sea and upon the returning hero, and flashing from the golden
fleece at his side a signal of success to Medea in her watch-tower,
as she prays for her chosen knight. Still less can we refuse to
recognise the poetical power of the later phases of the same story
-first, the midnight rovings of Medea in search of enchantments
(V, 3962 ff. ), and again later, when the charms are set in action
(4059 ff. ), a passage of extraordinary picturesqueness. The tales
of Mundus and Paulina and of Alboin and Rosemund, in the first
book, are excellently told; and, in the second, the story of the False
Bachelor and the legend of Constantine, in the latter of which the
author has greatly improved upon bis materials; while, in the third
book, the tale of Canace is most pathetically rendered, far better
than by Ovid. The fourth, which is altogether of special excel-
lence, gives us Rosiphelee, Phyllis and the very poetically told
tale of Ceix and Alceone; the fifth has Jason and Medea, a most
admirable example of sustained narrative, the oriental story of
Adrian and Bardus and the well-told romance of Tereus and
Philomela. In the seventh, we find the Biblical story of Gideon
1 Gower does not seem in any instance to have been indebted to Gesta
Romanorum,
a


## p. 152 (#170) ############################################

152
John Gower
well rendered, the rape of Lucrece and the tale of Virginia. The
long story of Apollonius, in the eighth book, is not one of Gower's
happiest efforts, though it is often taken as a sample of his style
owing to the connection with Shakespeare's Pericles. His natural
taste for simplicity sometimes stands him in good stead, as in the
description of the tears of Lucrece for her husband, and the
reviving beauty of her face when he appears (VII, 4830 ff. ), a
passage in which he may safely challenge comparison with
Chaucer. The ease of his more colloquial utterances, and the
finished style of some of the more formal passages, are equally
remarkable. As examples of the second quality we may cite the
reflections of the emperor Constantine (II, 3243 ff.