received, not rejected, which may purge away sins, not make a man guilty before the Lord, arising from your own just labours, not those of other men." Hear what Solomon says: "Honour the Lord from your just labours." What shall they say who have seized upon other men's possessions, and exercised charity ? "O Lord, in Thy name we have done charitable deeds, we have fed the poor, clothed the naked, and hospitably received the stranger:" to whom the Lord will answer, "Ye speak of what ye have given away, but speak not of the rapine ye have committed; ye relate concerning those ye have fed, and remember not those ye have killed." I have judged it proper to insert in this place an instance of an answer which Richard, king of the English, made to Fulke, a good and holy man, by whom God in these our days has wrought many signs in the kingdom of France. This man had among other things said to the king: “You have three daughters, namely, Pride, Luxury, and Avarice; and as long as they shall remain with you, you can never expect to be in favour with God." To which the king, after a short pause, replied: "I have already given away those daughters in marriage: "Pride to the Templars, Luxury to the Black Monks, and Avarice to the White." It is a remarkable circumstance, or rather a miracle, concerning Llanthony, that, although it is on every side surrounded by lofty mountains, not stony or rocky, but soft, and covered with grass, Parian stones are frequently found there, and are called free-stones, from the facility with which they admit of being cut and polished; and with these the church is beautifully built. It is also wonderful, that when, after a diligent search, all the stones have been removed from the mountains, and no more can be found; upon another search, a few days afterwards, they re-appear in greater quantities to those who seek them. With respect to the two Orders, the Cluniac and the Cistercian, this may be relied upon: although the latter are possessed of fine buildings, with ample revenues and estates, they will soon be reduced to poverty and destruction. To the former, on the contrary, you would allot a barren desert and a solitary wood; yet in a few years you will find them in possession of sumptuous churches and houses, and encircled with an extensive property. The difference of manners (as it appears to me) causes this contrast. For as without meaning offence to either party, I shall speak the truth: the one feels the benefits of sobriety, parsimony, and prudence, whilst the other suffers from the bad effects of gluttony and intemperance: the one, like bees, collect their stores into a heat, and unanimously agree in the disposal of one well-regulated purse; the others pillage and divert to improper uses the largesses which have been collected by divine assistance, and by the bounties of the faithful; and, whilst each individual consults solely his own interest, the welfare of the community suffers; since, as Sallust observes, "Small things increase by concord, and the greatest are wasted by discord." Besides, sooner than lessen the number of one of the thirteen or fourteen dishes which they claim by right of custom, or even in a time of scarcity or famine recede in the smallest degree from their accustomed good fare, they would suffer the richest lands and the best buildings of the monastery to become a prey to usury, and the numerous poor to perish before their gates. The first of these Orders, at a time when there was a deficiency in grain, with a laudable charity, not only gave away their flocks and herds, but resigned to the poor one of the two dishes with which they were always contented. But in these our days, in order to remove this stain, it is ordained by the Cistercians, "That in future neither farms nor pastures shall be purchased; and that they shall be satisfied with those alone which have been freely and unconditionally bestowed upon them." This Order, therefore, being satisfied more than any other with humble mediocrity, and, if not wholly, yet in a great degree checking their ambition; and though placed in a worldly situation, yet avoiding, as much as possible, its contagion; neither notorious for gluttony or drunkenness, for luxury or lust; is fearful and ashamed of incurring public scandal, as will be more fully explained in the book we mean (by the grace of God) to write concerning the Ecclesiastical Orders. Giraldus Cambrensis entered fully into Church questions in his "Gemma Ecclesiastica," produced in the reign of Richard I. The subject of it fell, he said, under the two heads, precept and example. "For as Jerome tells us, 'Long and tedious is the way that leads by precept; commodious and brief is the way that leads by example.' So from the legends of the holy Fathers, of which very few copies are to be found among you of Wales, and from the faithful narratives of ancient and more recent times, I have compiled, with a view to your imitation, some things which will be not unserviceable to you." He begins by answers to questions then dwelt upon. What shall the priest do if by chance he has spilt part of the consecrated cup, or allowed mice to nibble at the sacred bread? When may a layman officiate ? How are sins remitted? By the sacraments, by martyrdom, by faith, by mercy, by charity, by prayer, and observe the doubt-"perhaps by pontifical indulgence." He describes minutely the manner of carrying consecrated elements to the sick, and discusses the mystery of the Eucharist, of which he says it seems safer concerning that which is miraculous not to discuss every point to a hair's breadth, but rather to leave to God what is uncertain. If we are told on certain authority that the substance of the bread and wine is converted into substance of the body and blood of the Lord, let us not blush to say that we are ignorant as to the manner of the conversion. Of the questioning in his time as to the way in which men were to accept that doctrine, he tells that Aubry, who lectured to a large audience in interprehe saw in Paris a learned Englishman, Richard de tation of the Eucharist. "He seemed to be the very mirror of religion and morality among the clergy; he afflicted his body with watchings and fastings, with much abstinence and earnest prayers; yet when he took to his bed in his last sickness, and was offered the Lord's body, he could not receive it. Nay, he even averted his face, exclaiming that this punishment had happened to him through the just judgment of God, because he never could prevail upon himself The "Gemma Ecclesiastica," never before printed, was edited, with a valuable introduction, by Professor John Sherren Brewer, ia 1862, as one of the collection of the works of Giraldus Cambrǝnsis, in the series of " Chronicles and Memorial: of Great Britain and Ireland during the Middle Ages," published under the direction of the Master of the Rolls. The preceding translation are from a volume of Bohn's Libraries that makes two notable works by Girallus easily accessible to the general reader. It is called "The Historical Works of Giraldus Cambrensis, containing the Topography of Ireland, and the History of the Conquest of Ireland, translated by Thomas Forester, M.A. The Itinerary through Wales and the Description of Wales," translated by Sir Richard Colt Hoare, Bart. Revised and Edited, with A iditional Notes, by Thomas Wright, M.A." (Bohn, 18€3.) to have a firm belief in this article of faith. And so he entered the way of all flesh without the viaticum." From the Eucharist and the vessels and books used in its celebration, Gerald passed to baptism, confession, possession by evil spirits, and the power of the sign of the cross. Throughout, his teaching was enforced by wonderful tales; fables taken as truth for love of the truth they symbolised. Thus, there was a noble young lady possessed by a spiteful devil. A holy man was brought to her, and she immediately slapped his face. He bore the insult patiently, and turned the other cheek. To that she gave a harder slap. He turned his face to her the third time. Then said the evil spirit within her, "Your patience conquers me," and so the girl was cured. Giraldus in many ways dwelt on the devices of the clergy to enrich themselves unfairly. Soldiers and laity were accustomed to make offering at certain gospels for which they had especial veneration in the same way as they offered at the mass. For that reason the reading of a gospel at each mass was often multiplied into the reading of three or four to win an offering for each. He would have had fewer churches and altars, fewer persons ordained, with more care in their selection, and oblations only permitted three times a year, at Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide; to which might be added founder's day, a funeral, each anniversary, and purification. He vehemently opposed the practice of bestowing benefices in reversion, and all multiplication of the fees of bishops. He tells of a bishop who when he had consecrated a church immediately anathematised it because the fee was not ready; of an archbishop who excused his simony by saying, "I do not sell the church, I only sell my favour; why should any one have my favour who has never done anything to deserve it?" of another who gave benefices to his nephews while they were children, that, under pretext of wardship, he might take the profits to himself; of another who gave church pronotion to his stupid relatives, and neglected the deserving, for they, he said, could take care of themselves. Thus, Gerald added, these prelates observe the Apostle's precept, "Those members of the body which we think to be less honourable, upon these we bestow more abundant honour; and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness." As soon as a self-seeking worldliness is joined in many with charge over the spiritual interests of men, protest begins; the most earnest Churchmen are themselves the most devoted labourers for Church reform; the history of labour towards reformation covers as much time as the history of human frailty. There were very many Church reformers before Wiclif, each attacking those which seemed to him the faults most hurtful to the spiritual life. Giraldus spoke of the growing luxury of eating and drinking. He allowed licence in case of hospitality, as we read, he said, in the lives of saints that they sometimes exceeded rules of temperance in honour of their guests. "As is read," he says, "of Saint Philibert, to whom when he had taken too much while sitting with guests, the devil came as he lay on his back, and tapping at his belly, said, All's well within Philibert to-day. To whom he answered, It will be ill for him to-morrow.' On this account he fasted next day upon bread and water. If therefore our enemy thus scoffed at that excusable excess, how can he mock our excesses that are inexcusable !" Giraldus Cambrensis spoke of the degradation by luxury of houses of the great order of the Benedictines. Its founder, Benedict of Nursia, had known it difficult in the sixth century to find men ready as he himself was to deny the flesh. He kept it down with thorns and nettles; but when he was Abbot at Vicovaro it is said that hi monks tried to poison him for his strictness. He retired into the wilderness and founded twelve monasteries. Persecution of a priest named Florentinus drove him to Cassino in Campania. On Monte Cassino he is said to have destroyed a heathen temple and grove, and to have founded on its site the first and most famous monastery of his order, there planning a strict rule, which he perfected in the year 529. His cloistered community was to dwell together in constant meditation and labour, and in strict obedience to the abbot, serving as a type of their obedience to God. Women also afterwards joined themselves in such communities for holy contemplation and repression of the flesh. The body of religious women to whom love of was probably Bishop Poor, who died in 1237, and lies buried in his cathedral church at Salisbury. His Rule of the Anchoresses was written for a small community consisting only of three pious ladies and their domestics or lay sisters at Tarrant Kaines, or Kingston, near Crayford Bridge, in Dorsetshire. The house remained a religious home, and was afterwards incorporated with the Cistercian order; but the author of the "Rule" written for their instruction said, "If any ignorant man ask you of what order ye are, say that ye are of the Order of St. James. If such answer seem strange and singular to him, ask him, What is Order, and where he can find in Scripture Religion more plainly described than in the canonical epistle of St. James? He saith what Religion is, and right Order: Pure Religion and without stain is to visit and assist widows and orphans, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.' Thus doth St. James describe Religion and Order." The Rule written for the Anchoresses is in eight parts, and treats (1) of Devotional Services, (2) of the Government of the External Senses in keeping the Heart, (3) Moral Lessons and Examples, Reasons for Embracing a Monastic Life, (4) of Temptations and the means of Avoiding and Resisting them, (5) of Confession, (6) of Penance and Amendment, (7) of Love or Charity, (8) of Domestic and Social Duties. Probably for the same community, possibly for another convent of women who had turned from earthly wooing to set all their love on Christ, the writer of the "Ancren Riwle" wrote this piece called THE WOOING OF OUR LORD. Jesu, sweet Jesu, my love, my darling, my Lord, my Saviour, my honey-drop, my balm! sweeter is the remembrance of thee than honey in the mouth. Who is there that may not love thy lovely face? what heart is there so hard that may not melt at the remembrance of thee? Ah! who may not love thee, lovely Jesu? For within thee alone are all things joined that ever may make any man worthy of love to another. Beauty, and lovesome face, flesh white under clothing, make many a man the rather and the more to be beloved. Gold and Treasures and Wealth of this world cause some to be beloved and praised. Others for their Generosity and Liberality, that prefer graciously to give than niggardly to withhold. Some for their Wit and Wisdom and worldly prudence; and others for Might and Strength, to be distinguished and brave in fight to maintain their rights. Some are loved for their Nobility and highness of Birth; others for Virtue, and Politeness, and their faultless Manners. Some for Kindness, and Meekness, and goodness of heart and deed; and yet, above all this, nature causes friends of Kin to love one another. Jesu, my precious darling, my love, my life, my beloved, my most worthy of love, my heart's balm, my soul's sweetness, thou art Lovesome in countenance, thou art altogether bright. All angel's life is to look upon thy face, for thy cheer is so marvellously lovesome and pleasant to look upon, that if the damned that boil in hell might eternally see it, all that torturing pitch would appear but a soft warm bath; for, if it might be so, they had rather boil evermore in woe and evermore look upon that blissful beauty, than be in all bliss and forego the sight of thee. Thou art so shining and so white, that the sun would be pale if it were beside thy blissful countenance. If I then will love any man for fairness I will love thee, my dear life, mother's fairest son. Ah, Jesu, my sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. But now I will choose my beloved for Wealth; for everywhere with chattels one may buy love. But is there any one richer than thou, my beloved, that reignest in heaven, thou that art the renowned kaiser that has created all this world? for as the holy prophet David says, "The earth is the Lord's and all that fills it, the world and all that lives therein;" heaven with the mirths and the immeasurable blisses, all is thine, my sweet one, and all thou wilt give me, if I love thee aright. I cannot give my love to any man for a sweeter possession. I will hold then to thee, my beloved, and love thee for thyself, and for thy love forsake all other things that might draw and turn my heart from thy love. Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. But what is wealth and world's weal worth without Liberality? And who is more free than thou, for first thou didst make all this world and didst put it under my feet, and didst make me lady over all thy creatures that thou didst create on earth, but I miserably lost it through my sins. Ah! lest I should lose all, thou gavest thyself to me, to deliver me from pain. If I will love then any one for liberality, I will love thee, Jesu Christ, most free beyond all others; for other liberal men give these outward things, but thou didst give Thyself for me, that thou couldst not withhold thy own heart's blood. A dearer love-token gave never any beloved to another. And thou that gavest me first all thyself, thou hast promised me, my beloved, the gift, all to myself, to reign on thy right hand, crowned with thyself. Who is then more generous than thou? who, for largess, is better worthy of being beloved than thou, my dear life? Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. But largess is worth little when Wisdom is lacking. And if that I will love any man for wisdom, there is none wiser than thou, that art called the wisdom of thy Father in heaven; for He through thee, that art wisdom, created all this world, and ordereth it and divideth it, as it seemeth best. Within thee, my dear love, is hidden the treasure of all wisdom, as the book bears witness. Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. But many a man through his Strength and Courage also makes himself beloved and esteemed. And is any so hardy as thou art? Nay; for thou alone dreadest not with thine own dear body to fight against all the terrible devils of hell; that whichever of them is least loathsome and horrible, if he might, such as he is, show himself to man, all the world would be afraid to behold him alone, for no man may see him and remain in his wits, unless the grace and strength of Christ embolden his heart. Thou art moreover herewith so immensely mighty that, with thy precious hand nailed on the rood, thou boundest the hell-dogs, and bereftest them of their prey which they had greedily grasped and held it fast on account of Adam's sin. Thou brave renowned champion robbedst hell-house, and deliveredst thy prisoners, and broughtest them out of the house of death, and leddest them with thyself to thy jewelled bower, the abode of eternal bliss; wherefore of thee, my beloved, was it truly said, "The Lord is mighty, strong and keen in battle." And therefore if a stalwart lemman please me, I will love thee, Jesu, strongest over all, so that thou mayest fell the strong foes of my soul; and that the strength of thee may help my great weakness, and thy boldness embolden my heart. Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. But noble men and gentle and of high Birth often obtain the love of women at a very small cost; for oftentimes many a woman loses her honour through the love of a man that is of high birth; then, sweet Jesu, upon what higher man may I set my love? where may I a more gentle man choose than thou, that art the king's son, that wieldest this world, and art king equal with thy father, king over kings, and lord over lords? and yet, with respect to thy manhood, born thou wast of Mary, a maiden meekest of mood; child of royal birth, of king David's kin, of Abraham's race. No higher birth than this is there under the sun. I will love thee, then, sweet Jesu, as the most noble life that ever lived on earth, and also because in all thy life never was any vice found, my dear faultless beloved one; and that came to thee of birth and of nurture, because thou didst ever dwell in the court of heaven. Ah! my precious lord; so noble and so gracious; suffer me never to settle my love on churlish things, nor to desire earthly things nor fleshly things in preference to thee, nor to love against thy will. Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. Meekness and Mildness make a man everywhere to be beloved; and thou, my dear Jesus, for thy great meekness wast compared to a lamb, because anent all the wrong and the shame that thou sufferedst, and anent all the woe and the painful wounds, thou never openedst thy mouth to murmur against it; and yet the shame and the wrong, that the sinful each day do unto thee, thou sufferest meekly; nor dost thou take vengeance immediately after our sins, but long awaitest our repentance, through thy mercy. Since thy goodness may cause thee everywhere to be beloved, therefore is it right that I love thee and leave all others for thee, for thou hast shown great mercy toward me. Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. But because friends of Kin naturally love one another, thou clothest thyself with our flesh; tookest man of her flesh, born of a woman. Thy flesh took of her flesh without commerce of man; took fully, with that same flesh, man's nature to suffer all that man may suffer, to do all that man doth, except sin alone; for thou hadst neither sin nor ignorance. Then against nature goes each man who loveth not such a kinsman, and leaveth all others. Seeing that truer love ought to be amongst brethren, thou becamest man's brother of one father, with all those that sing Pater noster in purity; but thou art a son through nature, and we through grace, and man of that same flesh that we bear on earth. Ah! whom may he love truly who loveth not his brother: then whosoever loveth not thee is a most wicked man. Now, my sweet Jesu, I have left for thy love flesh's kinship, and yet born-brothers have cast me aside, but I reck of nothing whilst I hold thee, for in thee alone may I find all friends. Thou art to me more than father, more than mother. Brother, sister, or friends, none are to be esteemed as anything in comparison with thee. Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. Thou then with thy Beauty, thou with thy Riches, thou with thy Liberality, thou with Wit and Wisdom, thou with thy Might and Strength, thou with nobleness of Birth and graciousness, thou with Meekness and mildness and great gentleness, thou with Kinship, thou with all the things that one may purchase love with, hast bought my love; but above all other things thou makest thyself worthy of love to me, through those hard horrible injuries, and those shameful wrongs that thou didst suffer for me. Thy bitter pain and thy passion, thy sharp death on the rood, rightly tells upon all my love, and challenges all my heart. Jesus, my life's love, my heart's sweetness, three foes fight against me, and yet may I sore dread for their blows; and it behoves me, through thy grace, prudently to guard myself against the world, my flesh, and the devil. The homily then dwells upon the peril of man and Christ's suffering and death for his salvation. Then it proceeds : Lady, mother, and maiden, thou didst stand here full nigh, and sawest all this sorrow upon thy precious son. Thou wast inwardly martyred within thy motherly heart when thou sawest his heart cloven asunder with the spear's point. But, Lady, for the joy that thou hadst of his resurrection the third day thereafter, grant me to understand thy sorrow and heartily to feel somewhat of the sorrow that thou then hadst; and that I may help thee to weep because he so bitterly redeemed me with his blood, so that I, with him and with thee, may rejoice in my resurrection at doomsday, and be with thee in bliss. Jesus, sweet Jesu, thus thou foughtest for me against my soul's foes; thou didst settle the contest for me with thy body, and madest of me, wretch, thy beloved and spouse. Thou hast brought me from the world into the bower of thy birth, enclosed me in thy chamber where I may so sweetly kiss and embrace thee, and of thy love have spiritual delight. Ah! sweet Jesu, my life's love, with thy love hast thou redeemed me, and from the world thou hast brought me. But I now may say with the Psalmist, Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quæ retribuit mihi-Lord, what may I requite thee for all that thou hast given me! What may I suffer for thee for all that thou didst endure for me! But it is needful for me that thou be easy to satisfy. A wretched body and a weak I bear on earth, and that, such as it is, I have given thee, and will give to thy service. Let my body hang with thy body nailed on the rood, and enclosed transversely within four walls; and hang I will with thee, and never more come from my cross until I die; for then shall I leap from the rood into rest, from woe to weal and into eternal bliss. Ah! Jesus, so sweet it is with thee to hang; for when I look on thee that hangest beside me, the great sweetness of thee bereaves me of many pains. But, sweet Jesus, what is my body worth in comparison with thine? for if I might a thousandfold give thee myself, it would be nothing compared to thee that gavest thyself for me; and yet I have a heart, vile and unworthy, and destitute and poor of all good virtues; and that, such as it is, take to thyself now, dear life, with true love, and suffer me never to love anything against thy will, for I may not set my love better anywhere than on thee, Jesu Christ, that didst redeem it so dearly. There is none so worthy to be loved as thou, sweet Jesu, that hast in thyself all things for which a man ought to be love-worthy to another. Thou art most worthy of my love, thou that didst die for the love of me. Yet if I offered my love for sale and set a value thereupon, as high as ever I will, yet thou wilt have it, and moreover to what thou hast given thou wilt add more; and, if I love thee aright, wilt crown me in heaven to reign with thyself, world without end. Ah! Jesu, sweet Jesu, my love, my beloved, my life, my dearest love, that didst love me so much that thou didst die for the love of me, and hast separated me from the world, and hast made me thy spouse, and all thy bliss hast promised me, grant that the love of thee be all my delight. Pray for me, my dear sister. This have I written thee because that words often please the heart to think on our Lord. And therefore, when thou art in ease, speak to Jesu, and say these words; and think as though he hung beside thee bloody on the rood; and may he, through his grace, open thine heart to the love of him, and to ruth of his pain.1 The English poem by Layamon, "The Brut," in more than 32,000 lines, which, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, developed Geoffrey of Monmouth's "History of the British Kings" into national poetry with enlargement of its Arthurian traditions, will be described in the volume of this Library which treats of larger works not specially religious. Produced, perhaps, a few years later than Layamon's "Brut" (which was finished about the year 1205), and of about the same date as the "Ancren Riwle," and "The Wooing of Our Lord," was a long religious work in verse, "The Ormulum." This is named after its author, who calls himself at the opening of his work, Orm "This book is nemned Ormulum, Forthi that Orm it wrote." But he evidently there writes only Orm to account for the first syllable of Ormulum, since, at the close of the dedication, the lines immediately preceding those which open the poem itself were— "I that this English have set English men to lare, I was there there I christened was With mouth, and eke with heart" Beg Christians who hear the book read or who read it, to pray for soul. my What we know of Ormin we learn from himself; and as his work is not of a kind to yield internal evidence of date, there is only the language from which to infer the time when it was written. He was a canon regular of the order of St. Augustine, and at the request of Brother Walter, also an Augustinian canon, he planned and executed his work, of which the object was-as far as the Church allowed to bring the Gospel story, and the teaching founded on it, straight home, in their own tongue, to the understanding of the people. The English conscience never was at ease with a mere reading of the Bible to the people in an unknown tongue. If that Book was the foundation of their faith, it was felt that they should have it to build on. The honest fear of the Church was that if ignorant men read the Bible for themselves they would interpret it blindly for themselves, and there would be ruin of souls by the diffusion of heresies; therefore in Ormin's time, and long after, the Book of Psalms 1 This translation is substantially that given by Dr. Morris, with the original text, in his excellent edition of "Old English Homilies," already mentioned. was the only part of Scripture which it was permitted to translate. In First-English days, not only was there a translation of the Psalms ascribed to Aldhelm, but there was translation by Elfric of the Pentateuch, and the books of Joshua, Judges, part of the books of Kings, Esther, Job, Judith, and the Maccabees. Also, as we have seen, the Gospels were translated for the people and divided into sections, that they might every year be read through in the churches. And now that they were being read still, although in Latin, Brother Ormin's rhythm, through which pleasant tales might be was to provide for the people in a sort of told to them by the wayside and "on ember-eves and holy-ales," the whole series of those portions of the New Testament that were read in the daily offices of the Church, each Gospel being associated with a little homily of explanation, doctrinal and practical, often containing ideas borrowed from Bede or Ælfric. care There is only one MS. of the "Ormulum," and that is in the collection given by Francis Junius to the Bodleian Library at Oxford. Though of considerable extent, it is but a fragment. Homilies were written by Ormin for all, or nearly all, the daily services of the year, and of these there are left us only thirty-two. Ormin's verse is seldom rhymed, and is without alliteration, imitating a medieval Latin rhythm in verses of fifteen syllables in two sections, the metrical point being placed at the end of the eighth syllable, or fourth foot, and the fifteenth syllable unaccented, almost always a syllable of inflection, e, en, or ed. In his writing Ormin used a device which was perhaps meant to help a Norman-English reader of his lines to such pronunciation of them as would be understood by the people for whose benefit they were written. He always doubled the consonant after a short vowel in the same word, and avoided doubling it after a long vowel. This duplication is, in fact, a special characteristic of the written English of the "Ormulum.” Ormin's work was, then, a putting of the entire Gospel history into verse, with a running commentary of doctrine and exhortation, in a form that would be welcome to the people's ears, and with provision that whoever recited any part of it for their instruction should, as far as he could contrive, not make a dead language of its English, or take the pleasantness out of his rhythm by pronouncing it amiss. "And whoso," he says to the copyists, "shall will to write this book again another time, I bid him that he write it rightly, so as this book teacheth him entirely as it is upon this first pattern, with all such rhyme as is here set, with just as many words, and that he look well that he write a letter twice where it upon this book is written in that wise." Here is the whole of one of Ormin's metrical Homilies. It is upon Christ's Teaching of Nicodemus (St. John, chapter iii.). The opening of the homily I give in Ormin's English, with interlinear translation, and then modernise the rest, but without attempting to reproduce, in our uninflected language, the weak fifteenth syllable once formed by an inflection, and of which the music was often imitated by adding |