but a part of the necessary texture of the fable. He speaks of what he
wishes to describe with the accuracy, the discrimination of one who
relates what has happened to himself, or has had the best information
from those who have been eye-witnesses of it. The strokes of his pencil
always tell. He dwells only on the essential, on that which would be
interesting to the persons really concerned: yet as he never omits any
material circumstance, he is prolix from the number of points on which
he touches, without being diffuse on any one; and is sometimes tedious
from the fidelity with which he adheres to his subject, as other writers
are from the frequency of their digressions from it. The chain of his
story is composed of a number of fine links, closely connected together,
and rivetted by a single blow. There is an instance of the minuteness
which he introduces into his most serious descriptions in his account of
Palamon when left alone in his cell:

"Swiche sorrow he maketh that the grete tour
Resouned of his yelling and clamour:
The pure fetters on his shinnes grete
Were of his bitter salte teres wete."

The mention of this last circumstance looks like a part of the
instructions he had to follow, which he had no discretionary power to
leave out or introduce at pleasure. He is contented to find grace and
beauty in truth. He exhibits for the most part the naked object, with
little drapery thrown over it. His metaphors, which are few, are not for
ornament, but use, and as like as possible to the things themselves. He
does not affect to shew his power over the reader's mind, but the power
which his subject has over his own. The readers of Chaucer's poetry feel
more nearly what the persons he describes must have felt, than perhaps
those of any other poet. His sentiments are not voluntary effusions of