"Unfortunately, however, this description, though seemingly intended to
be so accurate, will neither enable us to conclude with the MSS. that
it was '_ten of the clock_,' nor to fix upon any other hour; as the two
circumstances just mentioned are not found to coincide in any part of
the 28th, or of any other day of April, in this
climate."--_Introductory Discourse_, Sec. xiv.
In a foot-note, Tyrwhitt further enters into a calculation to show that, on
the 28th of April, the fourth part of the day and half an hour and more
(even with the liberal allowance of a quarter of an hour to the indefinite
phrase '_and more_') would have been completed by nine o'clock A.M. at the
latest, and therefore at least an hour too soon for coincidence with (2.).
Now one would think that Tyrwhitt, when he found his author relating facts,
"_seemingly intended to be so accurate_," would have endeavoured to
discover whether there might not be some hidden meaning in them, the
explaining of which might make that consistent, which, at first, was
apparently the reverse.
Had he investigated with such a spirit, he must have discovered that the
expression "arke of the artificial day" _could not_, in this instance,
receive its obvious and usual meaning, of the horary duration from sunrise
to sunset--
And for this simple reason: That such a meaning would _presuppose a
knowledge of the hour_--of the very thing in request--and which was about
{346} to be discovered by "our hoste," who "toke his wit" from the sun's
altitude for the purpose! But he knew already that the fourth part of the
day IN TIME had elapsed, he must necessarily have also known what that time
was, without the necessity of calculating it!
Now, Chaucer, whose choice of expression on scientific subjects is often
singularly exact, says, "Our hoste _saw_ that the sonne," &c.; he must
therefore have been referring to some visible situation: because,
afterwards, when the time of day has been obtained from calculation, the
phrase changes to "_gan conclude_" that it was ten of the clock.
It seems, therefore, certain that, even setting aside the question of
consistency between (1.) and (2.), we must, _upon other grounds_, assume
that Chaucer had some meaning in the expression "arke of the artificial
day," different from what must be admitted to be its obvious and received
signification.
To what other ark, then, could he have been alluding, if not to the
_horary_ diurnal ark?
I think, to the AZIMUTHAL ARCH OF THE HORIZON included between the point of
sunrise and that of sunset!
The situation of any point in that arch is called its bearing; it is
estimated by reference to the points of the compass; it is therefore
_visually_ ascertainable: and it requires no previous knowledge of the hour
in order to determine when the sun has completed the fourth, or any other,
portion of it.
Here, then, is _prima facie_ probability established in favour of this
interpretation. And if, upon examination, we find that it also clears away
the discrepancy between (1.) and (2.), probability becomes certainty.
Assuming, upon evidence which I shall hereafter explain, that the sun's
declination, on the day of the journey, was 13 deg. 26' North, or thirteen
degrees and half,--the sun's bearing at rising, in the neighbourhood of
London, would be E.N.E., at setting W.N.W.; the whole included arch, 224 deg.;
and the time at which the sun would complete one-fourth, or have the
bearing, S.E. by E., would be about 20 minutes past nine A.M.,--thus
leaving 40 minutes to represent Chaucer's "halfe an hour and more!"
A very remarkable approximation--which converts a statement apparently
contradictory, into a strong confirmation of the deduction to be obtained
from the other physical facts grouped together by Chaucer with such
extraordinary skill!
On the other hand, it is impossible to deny that the "hoste's" subsequent
admonition to the pilgrims to make the best use of their time, warning them
that "the fourthe partie of this day is gon," seems again to favour the
idea that it is the day's actual horary duration that is alluded to.
This can be only hypothetically accounted for by observing that in this, as
in many other instances, Chaucer seems to delight in a sort of disguised
phraseology; as though to veil his true meaning, and designedly to create
scientific puzzles to exercise the knowledge and discernment of his
readers.