to be understood, then as his language grows obfolete, his thoughts must grow obfcure:

"Multa renafcentur quæ jam cecidere; cadentque, "Quæ nunc funt in honore vocabula; fi volet ufus, "Quem penès arbitrium eft, & jus, & norma loquendi.” When an ancient word for its found and fignificancy deferves to be revived, I have that reasonable veneration for antiquity, to restore it. All beyond this is fuperftition. Words are not like landmarks, fo facred as never to be removed; cuftoms are changed; and even ftatutes are filently repealed, when the reason ceases for which they were enacted. As for the other part of the argument, that his thoughts will lofe of their original beauty, by the innovation of words; in the first place, not only their beauty, but their being is loft, where they are no longer understood, which is the prefent cafe. I grant that fomething must be loft in all transfufion, that is, in all translations; but the fenfe will remain, which would otherwife be loft, or at least be maimed, when it is scarce intelligible; and that but to a few. How few are there who can read Chaucer, fo as to understand him perfectly! And if imperfectly, then with lefs profit and no pleafure. It is not for the ufe of fome old Saxon friends, that I have taken these pains with him: let them neglect my verfion, because they have no need of it. I made it for their fakes who understand fenfe and poetry as well as they, when that poetry and fenfe is put into words which they understand. I will go farther, and dare to add, that what beauties I lofe in fome places, I give to others which had them not originally: but in this I

may be partial to myself; let the reader judge, and I fubmit to his decifion. Yet I think I have just occafion to complain of them, who, because they understand Chaucer, would deprive the greater part of their countrymen of the faine advantage, and hoard him up, as mifers do their grandam gold, only to look on it themfelves, and hinder others from making use of it. In fum, I seriously protest, that no man ever had, or can have, a greater veneration for Chaucer, than myself. I have tranflated fome part of his works, only that I might perpetuate his memory, or at least refresh it, amongst my countrymen. If I have altered him any where for the better, I muft at the fame time acknowledge, that I could have done nothing without him: "Facile eft inventis addere," is no great commendation; and I am not fo vain to think I have deserved a greater. I will conclude what I have to fay of him fingly, with this one remark: a lady of my acquaintance, who keeps a kind of correfpondence with fome authors of the fair fex in France, has been informed by them, that Mademoiselle de Scudery, who is as old as Sibyl, and inspired like her by the fame god of poetry, is at this time tranflating Chaucer into modern French. From which I gather, that he has been formerly tranflated into the old Provençal (for how fhe fhould come to understand old English I know not). But the matter of fact being true, it makes me think that there is fomething in it like fatality; that, after certain periods of time, the fanie and memory of great wits fhould be renewed, as Chaucer is both in France and England. If

this be wholly chance, it is extraordinary, and I dare not call it more, for fear of being taxed with fuperftition.

Boccace comes last to be confidered, who, living in the fame age with Chaucer, had the fame genius, and followed the fame ftudies: both writ novels, and each of them cultivated his mother tongue. But the greatest refemblance of our two modern authors being in their familiar stile, and pleafing way of relating comical adventures, I may pafs it over, because I have tranflated nothing from Boccace of that nature. In the ferious part of poetry, the advantage is wholly on Chaucer's fide; for though the Englishman has borrowed many tales from the Italian, yet it appears that thofe of Boccace were not generally of his own making, but taken from authors of former ages, and by him only modelled fo that what there was of invention in either of

But Chaucer has refined

them, may be judged equal. on Boccace, and has mended the ftories which he has borrowed, in his way of telling; though profe allows more liberty of thought, and the expreffion is more easy when unconfined by numbers. Our countryman carries weight, and yet wins the race at difadvantage. I defire not the reader fhould take my word: and therefore I will fet two of their discourses on the fame fubject, in the fame light, for every man to judge betwixt them. I tranflated Chaucer first, and, amongst the reft, pitched on the Wife of Bath's tale; not daring, as I have said, to adventure on her prologue, because it is too licentious: there Chaucer introduces an old woman of mean parentage, whom a youthful knight of noble blood was

forced to marry, and confequently loathed her the erone being in bed with him on the wedding-night, and finding his averfion, endeavours to win his affection by reafon, and speaks a good word for herfelf, (as who could blame her?) in hope to mollify the fullen bridegroom. She takes her topics from the benefits of poverty, the advantages of old age and ugliness, the vanity of youth, and the filly. pride of ancestry and titles without inherent virtue, which is the true nobility. When I had clofed Chaucer, I returned to Ovid, and tranflated fome more of his fables; and by this time had fo far forgotten the wife of Bath's tale, that, when I took up Boccace, unawares I fell on the same argument of preferring virtue to nobility of blood, and titles, in the ftory of Sigifmunda; which I had certainly avoided for the refemblance of the two difcourfes, if my memory had not failed me. Let the reader weigh them both; and if he thinks me partial to Chaucer, it is in him to right Boccace.

I prefer in our countryman, far above all his other torics, the noble poem of Palamon and Arcite, which is of the Epic kind, and perhaps not much inferior to the Ilias or the neis: the ftory is more pleasing. than either of them, the manners as perfect, the dic

deep and various; only it includes a

tion as poetical, the learning as and the difpofition full as artful; greater length of time, as taking up feven years at leal; but Ariftotle has left undecided the duration of the action; which yet is eafily reduced into the compals of a year, by a narration of what preceded the re

turn

turn of Palamon to Athens. I had thought for the honour of our nation, and more particularly for his, whose laurel, though unworthy, I have worn after him, that this story was of English growth, and Chaucer's own: but I was undeceived by Boccace; for cafually looking on the end of his feventh Giornata, I found Dioneo (under which name he fhadows himself) and Fiametta (who reprefents his mistress the natural daughter of Robert king of Naples) of whom thefe words are fpoken, "Dioneo e la Fiametta granpezza conta"rono infieme d' Arcita, e di Palamone :" by which it appears that this story was written before the time of Boccace; but the name of its author being wholly lost, Chaucer is now become an original; and I queftion not but the poem has received many beauties by paffing through his noble hands. Befides this tale, there is another of his own invention, after the manner of the Provençals, called The Flower and the Leaf; with which I was fo particularly pleased, both for the invention and the moral, that I cannot hinder myself from recommending it to the reader.

As a corollary to this preface, in which I have done juftice to others, I owe somewhat to myself: not that I think it worth my time to enter the lifts with one Milbourn, and one Blackmore, but barely to take notice, that fuch men there are who have written fcurriloufly against me, without any provocation. Milbourn, who is in Orders, pretends amongst the reft this quarrel to me, that I have fallen foul on priesthood: if I have, I am only to ask pardon of good priefts, and am afraid his

part