enjoyment out of life as they could; and he by no means insisted on their obeying the strict antiquated rules which St Maur and St Benedict had imposed. And perhaps he was right: there must be worldly men in the world, and so each to his taste; and, while many monks think it no more than their duty to spend their days in study, and to devote themselves to the duties of religion, it gives variety at least to meet occasionally with one of this stamp. He was certainly in excellent condition, fat, and comfortable.1 He had a shining bald head, a jolly face which showed the pleasure he took in life, with clear bright eyes which allowed nothing to escape their notice. His dress, too, was in keeping with his tastes: his sleeves were decorated with costly fur, and to fasten his hood he sported an expensive artistically wrought pin with a dainty love-knot at the greater end of it. No one was a better judge of table dainties than he; and certainly, as far as outward appearance went, he was an ornament to his order. 2 In the company there was a merry begging FRIAR, who was by no means anxious about his dignity if it stood in the way of his doing business. He had 1 He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt. 2 His eyen steepe, and rollyng in his heede. 3 A fat swan lovede he best of eny roost. 4 Certeinly he was a fair prelàte. a district assigned to him in which to beg, and there he was a man of much importance;1 in fact, he was well able to assert himself wherever he went. He let everybody know that he was not a mere curate, but a licentiate who could, by virtue of the powers given him by the Pope, on his own account, after hearing confession, grant absolution for even the most heinous of sins. And well he used this right for the benefit of the order to which he belonged. All those who came to him with sufficient money in their purses were sure to be well received, whatever they had done. He made their confession as pleasant as possible to them; he assigned them penances which did not trouble them much; and in doing so, he satisfied his conscience in this way: he said to himself, "With most men it is a very difficult business, if not absolutely impossible, to get them to show true repentance, therefore one can can never be sure of them; but their money is real, and so the only thing for it is to make them pay out, and to show them that the more they give, the more reason they have to be satisfied with themselves after absolution." Although it was the case that the different orders 1 A ful solempné man. 2 He strong was as a champioùn. of friars-black, white, and grey-were instituted for the purpose of giving special attention to the wants of the poor, this Father Huberd did not trouble himself about that; he did not think it was respectable1 or advantageous to his order to be seen in their company; he shunned them, therefore, and cultivated the acquaintance of the rich freehold farmers in the country, and the landlords of inns, and women of position in the towns-wherever, in short, he could get good eating and drinking, with something to put in his poke. He made it his business, as he went on his rounds, to acquire as much popularity as he could. He retailed all the gossip 2 that was a-going, recited or sang interesting ballads in a most attractive way,3 sang a good song, occasionally handled a musical instrument with much skill and taste, and studied to pronounce the conventional religious phrases which he had to repeat, in the way which he thought would be most likely to wheedle the money out of the pockets of his auditors. He acted the part of a hawker, too, as he went 1 It is not honest, it may not avaunce, 2 In alle the ordres foure is noon that can 3 Of yeddynges he bar utterly the prys. on his rounds; and along with many other trinkets, he had his hood stuffed with "Pins and poking-sticks of steel, What maids lack from head to heel." He was thus welcomed wherever he went, and well he used his opportunities. At the same time, he could make himself very disagreeable1 when he chose, and no one could beat him for persistency 2 in begging; he had no mercy on his victims, and did not even disdain to carry off from the poorest widow of his district the most worthless thing she would give him, if he could not persuade her to give him anything better. He therefore drew in a large sum every year; and, in fact, the amount of money he obtained by begging 3 was much greater than the income allowed him by the Church. Like the Monk, he was a thorough man of the world, though with far less dignity; like him, too, he had quick observing eyes, and on special occasions, such as love-days, he appeared in all the splendour of clerical uniform, and acted the part of umpire in settling quarrels between friends and acquaint 1 And rage he couthe as it were right a whelpe. 2 Ther was no man nowher so vertuous, He was the besté beggere in his hous. 3 His purchas was wel bettre than his rente. ances with much self-importance and worldly wisdom. Altogether, Father Huberd, as far as money matters were concerned, was a most important acquisition to his order.1 We had a MERCHANT with us, whose forked beard was a notable feature of his face. He had equipped himself with special care for this occasion. His garments were party-coloured and of the best, his tall beaver hat was of Flanders make, and his boots, of the newest, had dainty buckles on them. He rode a high horse, and as he went, he spoke in pompous tones, and let everybody know how prosperous he had been in his business. He declared loudly that no considerations of expense or trouble ought to prevent the passage between England and the Continent from being perfectly safe on all occasions and under all circumstances. He was thoroughly well versed in matters of finance, and he conducted his business with such steadiness and dignity that, even when he met with heavy losses, no one could say that they caused him the slightest His self-importance had, no doubt, ample concern. 1 Unto his ordre he was a noble post. 3 2 His resons he spak ful solempnély, |