Harvey introduced him to Sidney, and a tender friendship sprang up between them:  he spent much of his time with Sidney at Pennshurst, and dedicated to him the Shepherd’s Calendar.  He calls it “an olde name for a newe worke.”  The plan of it is as follows:  There are twelve parts, corresponding to twelve months:  these he calls aeglogues, or goat-herde’s songs, (not eclogues or [Greek:  eklogai]—­well-chosen words.) It is a rambling work in varied melody, interspersed and relieved by songs and lays.

HIS ARCHAISMS.—­In view of its historical character, there are several points to be observed.  It is of philological importance to notice that in the preliminary epistle, he explains and defends his use of archaisms—­for the language of none of his poems is the current English of the day, but always that of a former period—­saying that he uses old English words “restored as to their rightful heritage;” and it is also evident that he makes new ones, in accordance with just principles of philology.  This fact is pointed out, lest the cursory reader should look for the current English of the age of Elizabeth in Spenser’s poems.

How much, or rather how little he thought of the poets of the day, may be gathered from his saying that he “scorns and spews the rakebelly rout of ragged rymers.”  It further displays the boldness of his English, that he is obliged to add “a Glosse or Scholion,” for the use of the reader.

Another historical point worthy of observation is his early adulation of Elizabeth, evincing at once his own courtiership and her popularity.  In “February” (Story of the Oak and Briar) he speaks of “colours meete to clothe a mayden queene.”  The whole of “April” is in her honor: 

    Of fair Eliza be your silver song,
      That blessed wight,
    The floure of virgins, may she flourish long,
      In princely plight.

In “September” “he discourseth at large upon the loose living of Popish prelates,” an historical trait of the new but cautious reformation of the Marian Church, under Elizabeth.  Whether a courtier like Spenser could expect the world to believe in the motto with which he concludes the epilogue, “Merce non mercede,” is doubtful, but the words are significant; and it is not to his discredit that he strove for both.

HIS GREATEST WORK.—­We now approach The Faerie Queene, the greatest of Spenser’s works, the most remarkable poem of that age, and one of the greatest landmarks in English literature and English history.  It was not published in full until nearly all the great events of Elizabeth’s reign had transpired, and it is replete with the history of nearly half a century in the most wonderful period of English history.  To courtly readers of that day the history was only pleasantly illustrative—­to the present age it is invaluable for itself:  the poem illustrates the history.