and the genius of the author of The Faerie Queene,' have respectively produced on the fortune and language of England. The fancy might even be pardoned for a momentary superstition, that the genius of their country hovered, unseen, over their meeting, casting her first look of regard on the poet that was destined to inspire her future Milton, and the other on the maritime hero who paved the way for colonizing distant regions of the earth, where the language of England was to be spoken, and the poetry of Spenser to be admired."

In 1590 Spenser published the first three books of "The Faerie Queene," and in 1591, he received a pension of £50 a year from Queen Elizabeth, The favorable manner in which "The Faerie Queene" was received, induced the publisher to collect and print the author's minor poems, which may be found in the editions of his works. In 1595 the second part of "The Faerie Queene," consisting of three more books, appeared. The poet intended to complete the work in twelve books, and it is said that the last six were lost on his way from Ireland to England. But of this there is no proof, and scarcely any probability. "It is much more likely," says Mr. Hillard, "that the sorrows and misfortunes which clouded the last three years of the poet's life, deprived him of both the will and the power to engage in poetical composition." In September, 1598, the rebellion of O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone, drove him and his family from Kilcolman. In the confusion of flight, one of the poet's children was unfortunately left behind, and perished in the house, which was burnt by the rebels. He arrived in England, harassed by these misfortunes, and died in London on the 16th of January, 1599, at the age of forty-five, and was buried in Westminster Abbey

But how little is there of delight, to charm, to in

Thus died Spenser, at the early age of forty-five. the great and good that can die! He still lives, to struct mankind. He still lives, and, as far as his writings are read, lives to exert the most salutary influence in inspiring a love for the just, the beautiful, the true; in purging the soul from the grovelling propensities and ppetites that continually clog it here, and in filling it with ardent aspirations for those high and holy things that claim kindred with its origin.

Had Spenser never written «The Faerie Queene," many of his minor poems, and especially his "Divine Hymns," would have given him a high, a very high rank in English literature. But "The Faerie Queene," from its unequalled richness and beauty, has thrown the rest of his writings comparatively into the shade. Two things, however, have prevented its being generally read; one is its antiquated diction, and the other its allegorical character. The latter "has been" (remarks Mr. Hillard) "a kind of bugbear-a vague image of terror brooding over it, and deterring many from ever attempting its perusal. To borrow a lively expression of Hazlitt's, they are afraid of the allegory, as if they thought it would bite them.' But though it be an allegorical poem, it is only so to a certain extent and to a limited degree. The interest which the reader feels is a warm, flesh-and-blood interest, not in the delineation of a virtue, but in the adventures of a knight or lady. It is Una-the trembling, tearful woman-for whom our hearts are moved with pity, and not forsaken Truth. We may fairly doff the allegory aside, and let it pass, and

1 I would earnestly recommend to the reader's attention the "Introductory Observations on the Faerie Queen," by Mr. Hillard, prefixed to the edition just spoken of. They are written with that discriminating taste, justness of thought, and felicity of style, which characterize all his writings. Read, also, an excellent article on Spenser in the 2d vol. of D'Israeli's "Amenities of Literature:" also, some very just critical remarks in Hallam's "Literature of Europe

the poem will lose little or nothing of its charm. The grand procession of stately and beautiful forms, the chivalrous glow, the stirring adventures, the noble sentiments, the picturesque descriptions, the delicious poetry, would all be left unimpaired."

The poet, in a letter to Sir Walter Raleigh, gives the plan of his work. The general end of all the book," he says, "is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in virtuous and gentle discipline." He takes the history of King Arthur, "as most fit for the excellency of his person," whom he conceives to have seen in a vision the Faerie Queene, "with whose excellent beauty ravished, he awaking resolved to seek her out." By this Faerie Queene, Gloriana, he means Glory in general, but in particular, her majesty, Queen Elizabeth; and by Faerie Land, her kingdom. So in Prince Arthur he sets forth Magnificence or Magnanimity, for "that is the perfection of all the rest, and containeth in it them all; therefore," he says, "in the whole course I mention the deeds of Arthur applicable to that virtue which I write of in that book."

Of the twelve books he makes or intended to make twelve knights the patrons, each of twelve several virtues. The first, the knight of the Red Cross, expressing Holiness: the second, Sir Guyon, or Temperance: the third, Britomartis, a "Lady Knight," in whom he pictures Chastity: the fourth, Cambell and Triamond, or Friendship: the fifth, Artegal, or Justice: the sixth, Sir Calodore, or Courtesy: what the other six books would have been, we have no means of knowing. The first canto of the first book thus opens:

THE KNIGHT AND THE LADY.

I.

A gentle Knight' was pricking on the plaine,,
Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde,
Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine,
The cruel markes of many' a bloody fielde;
Yet armes till that time did he never wield:
His angry steede did chide his, foming bitt,
As much disdayning to the curbe to yield:
Full jolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt,
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.

II.

And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,

The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,

For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore,
And dead, as living ever, him ador'd;

Upon his shield the like was also scor'd,

For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had.
Right, faithfull, true he was in deede and word;
But of his cheeres did seeme too solemne sad;
Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.

1 A gentle Knight.-Spenser comes at once to the action of the poem, and describes the Red-cross knight as having already entered upon the adventure assigned him by the Faerie Queene, which was to slay the dragon which lald waste the kingdom of Una's father. The Red-cross knight is St. George the patron saint of England, and represents holiness or Christian purity, and is clothed in the "whole armor of God," described by St. Paul in the sixth chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians.

$ Ycladd-clad.

• Cheere-air, or mien.

3 Iolly-handsome.

6 Ydrad--dreaded.

Giusts-tournaments.

Upon a great adventure he was bond,
That greatest Gloriana to him gave,

(That greatest glorious queene of Faerie lond,)
To winne him worshippe, and her grace to have,
Which of all earthly thinges he most did crave:
And ever, as he rode, his hart did earne1
To prove his puissance in battell brave
Upon his foe, and his new force to learne;
Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne.

IV.

A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside,
Upon a lowly asse more white then snow:
Yet she much whiter; but the same did hide
Under a vele, that whimpled2 was full low;
And over all a blacke stole shee did throw:
As one that inly mournd, so was she sad,
And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow;
Seemed in heart some hidden care she had;
And by her in a line a milke-white lamb she lad.

V.

So pure and innocent, as that same lambe,
She was in life and every vertuous lore;
And by descent from royall lynage came

Of ancient kinges and queenes, that had of yore

Their scepters stretcht from east to westerne shore,
And all the world in their subjection held;

Till that infernal Feend with foule uprore
Forwasted 3 all their land, and them expeld;

Whom to avenge, she had this Knight from far compeld.

VI.

Behind her farre away a Dwarfe did lag,

That lasie seemd, in being ever last,

Or wearied with bearing of her bag

Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past,

The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast,

And angry love an hideous storme of raine

Did poure into his lemans lap so fast,

That everie wight to shrowd it did constrain;

And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain.4

VII.

Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand,
A shadie grove not farr away they spide,
That promist ayde the tempest to withstand;
Whose loftie trees, yclad with sommers pride,
Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide,
Not perceable with power of any starr:
And all within were pathes and alleies wide,

Earne-yearn.

2 Whimpled-gathered, or plaited.

Forwasted-much wasted. The prefix for is an intensive, from the Saxon and German ver. • Fain-glad

With footing worne, and leading inward farr:
Faire harbour that them seems; so in they entred ar.

VIII.

And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led,
Ioying to heare the birdes sweete harmony,
Which, therein shrouded from the tempest dred,
Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky.
Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy,
The sayling pine; the cedar proud and tall;
The vine-propp elme; the poplar never dry;
The builder oake, sole king of forrests all;
The aspine good for staves; the cypresse funerall;

IX.

The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours
And poets sage; the firre that weepeth still;
The willow, worne of forlorne paramours;
The eugh, obedient to the benders will;
The birch for shaftes; the sallow for the mill;
The mirrhe sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound;
The warlike beech; the ash for nothing ill;
The fruitfull olive; and the platane round;
The carver holme; the maple seeldom inward sound.

X.

Led with delight, they thus beguile the way,
Untill the blustering storme is overblowne;
When, weening to returne whence they did stray,
They cannot finde that path, which first was showne,
But wander too and fro in waies unknowne,
Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene,
That makes them doubt their wits be not their owne:
So many pathes, so many turnings seene,

That, which of them to take, in diverse doubt they been.

UNA FOLLOWED BY THE LION.

I.

Noughts is there under heaven's wide hollownesse
That moves more deare compassion of mind,
Then beautie brought t' unworthie wretchednesse
Through envies snares, or fortunes freakes unkind.
I, whether lately through her brightnes blynd,
Or through allegeance, and fast fealty,
Which I do owe unto all womankynd,
Feele my hart perst with so great agony,
When such I see, that all for pitty I could dy.

II.

And now it is empassioned so deepe,
For fairest Unaes sake, of whom I sing,

1 Can they praise-Much they praised. This form of expression is frequently used by Spenser Some, however, consider can' to be put for 'gan,' or 'began.

2 Eugh-yew.

* Nought, &c. In this canto the adventures of Una are resumed, from the ninth stanza of the pre ceding canto.

♦ Empassioned-moved.

1

That my frayle eies these lines with teares do steepe,
To think how she through guyleful handeling,
Though true as touch,1 though daughter of a king,
Though faire as ever living wight was fayre,
Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting,

Is from her Knight divorced in despayre,

And her dew loves deryv'd2 to that vyle Witches shayre.

III.

Yet she, most faithfull Ladie, all this while

Forsaken, wofull, solitarie mayd,

Far from all peoples preace,3 as in exile,
In wildernesse and wastfull deserts strayd,
To seeke her Knight; who, subtily betrayd

Through that late vision which th' Enchaunter wrought,
Had her abandond: She, of nought affrayd,

Through woods and wastness wide him daily sought;
Yet wished tydinges none of him unto her brought,

IV.

One day, nigh wearie of the yrkesome way,
From her unhastie beast she did alight;
And on the grasse her dainty limbs did lay
In secrete shadow, far from all mens sight;
From her fayre head her fillet she undight,
And layd her stole aside: Her angels face,
As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright,
And make a sunshine in the shady place;
Did ever mortall eyc behold such heavenly grace?

V.

It fortuned, out of the thickest wood

A ramping lyon5 rushed suddeinly,
Hunting full greedy after salvage blood:
Soone as the royall Virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have attonce devourd her tender corse:
But to the pray when as he drew more ny,
His bloody rage aswaged with remorse,
And, with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse.

VI.

Instead thereof he kist her wearie feet,
And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong;
As he her wronged innocence did weet.7
O how can beautie maister the most strong,

And simple truth subdue avenging wrong!
Whose yielded pryde and proud submission,
Still dreading death, when she had marked long,

1 True as touch-i, e. true as the touchstone by which other substances are tried.
2 Deryv'd-transferred.

3 Preace-press or throng.

4 Undight-took off.

A ramping lyon.-Upton conjectures the lion to be the English monarch, the defender of the Cuth. He seems rather to represent a manly and courageous people, like the English, and the homage he pays to Una betokens the respect which would be felt by such a people to beauty and innocence. 6 A8-as i 7 Weet-understand.