etry is meant for mankind, and that its appeal is, or should
be, universal. We pay tribute to the unusual: and so far as this
implies respect for protracted industry and indefatigable learning, we
do right. But in so far as it implies even a momentary confusion of
the essentials with the accidentals of poetry, we do wrong. And the
specialist himself continues admirable only so long as he keeps them
distinct.

I hasten to add that Professor Skeat _does_ keep them distinct very
successfully. In a single sentence of admirable brevity he tells us
that of Chaucer's poetical excellence "it is superfluous to speak;
Lowell's essay on Chaucer in 'My Study Windows' gives a just estimate
of his powers." And with this, taking the poetical excellence for
granted, he proceeds upon his really invaluable work of preparing a
standard text of Chaucer and illustrating it out of the stores of his
apparently inexhaustible learning. The result is a monument to
Chaucer's memory such as never yet was reared to English poet. Douglas
Jerrold assured Mrs. Cowden Clarke that, when her time came to enter
Heaven, Shakespeare would advance and greet her with the first kiss of
welcome, "_even_ should her husband happen to be present." One can
hardly with decorum imagine Professor Skeat being kissed; but Chaucer
assuredly will greet him with a transcendent smile.

The Professor's genuine admiration, however, for the poetical
excellence of his poet needs to be insisted upon, not only because the
nature of his task keeps him reticent, but because his extraordinary
learning seems now and then to stand between him and the natural
appreciation of a passage. It was not quite at haphazard that I chose
just now the famous description of the Prioresse as an illustration of
Chaucer's poetical quality. The Professor has a long note upon the
French of Stratford atte Bowe. Most of us have hitherto believed the
passage to be an example, and a very pretty one, of Chaucer's
playfulness. The Professor almost loses his temper over this: he
speaks of it as a view "commonly adopted by newspaper-writers who know
only this one line of Chaucer, and cannot forbear to use it in jest."
"Even Tyrwhitt and Wright," he adds more in sorrow than in anger,
"have thoughtlessly given currency to this idea." "Chaucer," the
Professor explains, "merely states a _fact_" (the italics are his
own), "viz., that the Prioress spoke the usual Anglo-French of the
English Court, of the English l