they possess all the imagined grace of the inhabitants of another world,—a region of enchantment, created by himself, in which fresh flowers are ever springing, and new beauties are presented to us at each step in our progress. The success of the Faerie Queene was instantaneous. “It became at once the delight of every accomplished gentleman, the model of every poet, the solace of every scholar;”[1] Panegyrics were written on its author,—it strengthened his position at court,—it extended the circle of his friends,—it won for him the smiles of his sovereign, and secured him the applause of the good. Its publication exercised an influence on our literature and on our language, whose effects are even yet experienced. To enumerate its imitators would be to recount the names of the most distinguished of our poets; for all have been more or less indebted to the inspiration of Spenser’s genius.
The plot of the Faerie Queene is far more entangled than is at first sight apparent; and too many are disposed, in the more conspicuous attractions of its poetical embellishment, to forget the moral which is conveyed beneath its surface. Besides the moral allegory which is the distinguishing feature of the poem, Spenser has embodied in his story a second and political one. “Not only is Gloriana the imaginary concentration of glory sought by every true knight—she is Queen Elizabeth too: not only does King Arthur present the spirit and essence of pure chivalry—he is likewise Spenser’s (unworthy) patron, the Earl of Leicester; and many of the adventures which describe the struggles of virtue and vice, also shadow forth anecdotes and intrigues of the English court, invisible to those, as Spenser himself insinuates,
“Who n’ote without a hound fine footing trace.”
This complication of meanings may render the Faerie Queene doubly valuable to the antiquary who can explore its secret sense; but it must always be an objection to Spenser’s plan, with the common reader, that the attempt at too much ingenuity has marred the simplicity of his allegory, and deprived it in a great degree of consistency and coherence.”[2]
The prevailing though less prominent tone of the poem betrays a mildness and gentleness eminently characteristic of the author’s disposition: beneath the garb of his bewitching allegories we trace his desire to inculcate those virtues which are the peculiar attributes of Christianity. Spenser’s feeling for sacred subjects, is admirably pourtrayed in those exquisite stanxas which form the opening of the eighth Canto of Book II. How naturally does he burst forth,
“But O! th’ exceeding grace
Of Highest God that loves his creatures so,
And all his workes with mercy doth embrace,
That blessed Angels he sends to and fro,
To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe!
***** O, why should Hevenly God to min have such regard!
But while he thus paints, in the most vivid and alluring colours, those endearing sympathies which hallow existence; with an energy startling as unexpected, he appears as the
