the sphere of its operations. It devoted itself chiefly to the exportation of English woollens of a coarse quality, which were exchanged abroad for wines, rich cloths, and arms, the products of Flanders, Italy, and the Levant. J. HAMILTON FYFE: Merchant Enterprise. a-mal-ga-ma-tion, blending. com-mence-ment, beginning. 1 Phoni'cians, an ancient nation that dwelt on the coast of Syria, north of Canaan. They were the greatest navigators and traders of ancient times. Their chief cities were Tyre and Sidon, which date from the nineteenth or twentieth century B.C. They founded Carthage and many other colonies on the shores of the Mediterranean. 2 Cassiter'ides, the tin islands; from Greek kassiteros, tin. 3 Ga'des, the modern Cadiz, on the south-west coast of Spain; founded by the Phoenicians about 1100 B.C. ex-ten-sion, enlargement. full-ers, persons who cleanse cloth. pre-ced-ing, going before; previous. 4 Augus'tine's mission, for the planting in England of the Romish Church. Augustine, sent to England by Pope Gregory, landed in Kent in 597 A.D. 5 Brabant', an old duchy of the Netherlands; now divided into North Brabant, belonging to the Netherlands, and Antwerp and South Brabant, belonging to Belgium. 6 Zee land, a province of the Netherlands, comprising the peninsulas and islands at the mouths of the Scheldt and Maas. 10. THE PILGRIMS OF THE TABARD INN. [Geoffrey Chaucer, the first great English poet, died in 1400. His most famous work is The Canterbury Tales," written in 1387; and so called because it consists of stories supposed to be told by pilgrims going to the shrine of Thomas Becket in Canterbury Cathedral. The Tales themselves have no other connection either with Canterbury or with Becket. They are independent stories, being versions some of them of classical legends, and others of Middle Age romances, given in Chaucer's quaint and masculine English. The pilgrims themselves are described in the Prologue, which forms the framework that binds the several tales into a unity. Of this prologue the following chapter is a paraphrase in prose. The pilgrims, it will be seen, are representative of different classes of Englishmen; and the poem is therefore valuable as a picture of the times.] 1. Fly back on the wings of thought five hundred years, and, with our first great poet as a guide, enter the courtyard of the Tabard Inn in Southwark,1 hard by the Bell. As we pass in, the merry welcome of the big bluff host rings rich and 'mellow on the ear. Every nook of the hostelry, although its chambers and its stables are noted for their size, is filled to overflowing with eight-and-twenty travellers and their eight-and-twenty nags. For April has come, with its sweet and fruitful showers; the tender green of the young corn begins to embroider the bare, brown fields; the air rings with the song of birds; and thoughts of pilgrimage, undertaken often for piety, but oftener for amusement, begin to stir in the minds of English folk. 2. The destination of the pilgrims met in the Tabard is the shrine of murdered Becket at Canterbury; and with early dawn, roused by the active host, they ride upon their way toward Rochester over the pleasant daisied turf of Kent. The host rides with them; for last night at supper they agreed upon a plan of beguiling the time by telling tales in turn, and consented to submit themselves to the direction and judgment of the jolly innkeeper, at whose suggestion this agreeable pastime had been chosen. 3. Mark the 'motley group, as the hoofs ring soft upon the moist and chalky soil. First, on a fine charger rides a knight in undress, wearing a frock of fustian, all stained with the rubbing of the armour which he has lately doffed. Gentle and meek as he now looks, the blood of many foes, slain on fifteen deadly battle-fields, in Prussia, Spain, Africa, and the East, has smoked upon his steel. 4. His son, a dainty, curly-headed squire of twenty years, rides with him in a short flowered gown of brilliant colours, made in the tip of the fashion, with long, wide sleeves. The joy of a fresh loving heart pours out in a constant stream of music and song. A fine flute-player, a capital rider, a graceful dancer, a poet, a penman, an artist, this gallant youth presents a 'graphic and enchanting likeness of a young English gentleman in the time of Edward III. Carving at his father's table stands 'prominently out among the many duties of his squirehood. 5. A third figure, that of the yeoman or forester, completes the group of chivalrous portraits limned by Geoffrey Chaucer. This brown-faced gamekeeper, with hood and coat of green, under his belt a sheaf of arrows trimly dressed by himself with peacock feathers, a strong bow in his hand, a sword and buckler on his left side, and on the other a keen ornamented dagger, a silver jewel shining on his breast, and a horn slung from a green baldric, supplies us with a vivid photograph of the manly stuff which won the day for England at Crecy and Poitiers. 6. So much for Chivalry. Now for the Church. No fewer than seven various figures connect themselves more or less nearly with this great power of the Middle Ages. We mark in the 'variegated crowd a prioress, a monk, a mendicant friar or limitour, a summoner, a pardoner, a poor parson, and by-and-by a canon. 7. Giving due 'precedence to the lady, let us sketch the outlines of the prioress, Madame Eglantine. Her long well-shaped nose, her small red mouth, her eyes gray as glass, and her broad white forehead, entitle her to the appellation of a beauty. Her well-made dress-her pretty bracelet of coral, green, and gold, with its motto, "Amor vincit omnia" 2—but especially the delicacy of her 'demeanour at table, where she never lets anything drip upon her breast, and does not dip her fingers too far into the sauce -betoken one used to good society, as things went then. Her gentle smile, her sweet singing through the nose, and her knowledge of French, learned at Stratford and very different from the Parisian tongue, afford additional proof that she belongs unmistakably to the high-bred ladies of the land. Like others delicately nurtured, her tears spring at the merest trifle. A dead mouse or a beaten lapdog sets them flowing in a trice. 8. Equally fine is the Benedictine monk, from whose bridle sweet bells jingle as he rides. His bright rolling eyes, fat red face, and portly form, developed by 'indulgence in roast swan, and kept in good case by riding after his greyhounds, well befit the grandeur of his dress. His sleeves are edged with the rarest fur, a curious gold pin fastens his hood, and pliant boots press the sleek sides of his berry-brown horse. 9. The friar, called limitour because he begs within a certain district, has a wide 'acquaintance among the farmers and innkeepers within his beat, being an especial pet with their wives and daughters, for whom he carries about a tippet full of knives and pins. His merry talk, his easy *penances, his capital songs make his presence welcome everywhere. Strong, white-necked, with eyes like stars in frost, and a lisp upon his musical tongue, he goes his rounds in a short round cloak of double worsted, enjoying the reputation of being the best beggar in all his house. 10. The summoner, whose business is to cite 'delinquents before an archdeacon's court, is one of the most repulsive portraits in the group. His fiery pimpled face and scabby black brows result from over-doses of wine, and from his coarse feeding on onions, garlic, and such things. When drunk, he can speak only Latin, of which he has got a smattering from the decrees of his court. Between him and the friar a fierce grudge burns, which displays itself in their pungent tales. 11. The pardoner typifies that unworthy, artful class, whose doings stirred the honest wrath of John Wycliffe.3 Straight yellow hair, a thin bleating voice, and eyes starting like a hare's, distinguish this manikin from the burly forms around him. Displaying in his cap a miniature picture of the Saviour, in token of his late visit to Rome, he bears a wallet full of pardons, "from Rome al hote,” as Chaucer slyly says, a glass-case of pigs' bones, and other things, which he intends to palm off on simple country folks as holy relics. He will thus often in a day make The more money than two months' stipend of the parson. trick of talking well being a necessary 'appendage to this 'humbug, he is described as a good reader and a fluent preacher. 12. Our love clings especially to the poor parson, who spares no labour or pains in ministering to the spiritual wants of his parishioners. Far asunder as are the dwellings of his flock, no stress of weather, no rain or thunder, can keep him from trudging round, staff in hand, to pay his pastoral visits. Living a simple, godly life, doing his work himself, wasting no time in ambitious runs to London, he can afford, though meek and lowly in the main, to speak boldly and sharply out to those who may prove obstinate in opposition to the truth. 13. Professional and business life has its worthy representatives in the sergeant of law; the doctor of physic; the clerk of Oxford; the merchant; the 'manciple; and last, though assuredly not least, that fair specimen of the English bourgeoise, the jolly wife of Bath. 4 14. There, upon an ambling palfrey sits the stout and comely wife of Bath, who has been to the church door with five husbands. Her round red face is surmounted with a broad-leafed hat like a buckler; her kerchiefs are of fine heavy cloth; her tight scarlet stockings and new shoes with sharp spurs show off her feet and ankles to full advantage. Noted for the making of English cloth, which beats that of Ypres or Ghent, she upholds her civic dignity by taking precedence at mass of all wives in the parish, scarcely one of whom dares go before her to the offering. She has travelled much on pilgrimage, has visited Jerusalem thrice, seeing on the way Rome, Bologna, Compostella, and Cologne; and she is certainly not overburdened with bashfulness in her talk. Before beginning her story 8 6 |