h is so often, and
very rarely without need, invoked in an exculpatory capacity by modern
French criticism--is the best defence ever made for Chaucer's laughable
irregularities, either by his apologists or by himself. "Men should
not," he says, and says very truly, "make earnest of game." But when
he audaciously defends himself against the charge of impropriety by
declaring that he must tell stories IN CHARACTER, and coolly requests
any person who may find anything in one of his tales objectionable to
turn to another:--

For he shall find enough, both great and small
Of storial thing that toucheth gentleness,
Likewise morality and holiness;
Blame ye not me, if ye should choose amiss--

we are constrained to shake our heads at the transparent sophistry of
the plea, which requires no exposure. For Chaucer knew very well how
to give life and colour to his page without recklessly disregarding
bounds the neglect of which was even in his day offensive to many
besides the "PRECIOUS folk" of whom he half derisively pretends to
stand in awe. In one instance he defeated his own purpose; for the
so-called "Cook's Tale of Gamelyn" was substituted by some earlier
editor for the original "Cook's Tale," which has thus in its completed
form become a rarity removed beyond the reach of even the most ardent
of curiosity hunters. Fortunately, however, Chaucer spoke the truth
when he said that from this point of view he had written very
differently at different times; no whiter pages remain than many of his.

But the realism of Chaucer is something more than exuberant love of fun
and light-hearted gaiety. He is the first great painter of character,
because he is the first great observer of it among modern European
writers. His power of comic observation need not be dwelt upon again,
after the illustrations of it which have been incidentally furnished in
these pages. More especially with regard to the manners and ways of
women, which often, while seeming so natural to women themselves,
appear so odd to male observers, Chaucer's eye was ever on the alert.
But his works likewise contain passages displaying a penetrating
insight into the minds of men, as well as a keen eye for their manners,
together with a power of generalising, which, when kept within due
bonds, lies at the root of the wise knowledge of humankind so admirable
to us in our great essayists, from Bacon to Addison and his modern
successors. How truly, for inst