The complete works of John Gower, volume 1

by John Gower

MIROUR DE L’OMME.

Authorship.—The evidence of authorship rests on two distinct grounds: first, its correspondence in title and contents with the description given by Gower of his principal French work; and secondly, its remarkable resemblance in style and substance to the poet’s acknowledged works.

We return therefore to the statement before referred to about the three principal books claimed by our author: and first an explanation should be made on the subject of the title. The statement in question underwent progressive revision at the hands of the author and appears in three forms, the succession of which is marked by the fact that they are connected with three successive editions of the Confessio Amantis. In the two first of these three forms the title of the French work is Speculum Hominis, in the third it is Speculum Meditantis, the alteration having been made apparently in order to produce similarity of termination with the titles of the two other books[H]. We are justified therefore in assuming that the original title was Speculum Hominis, or its French equivalent, Mirour de l’omme. The author’s account, then, of his French work is as follows:

‘Primus liber Gallico sermone editus in decem diuiditur partes, et tractans de viciis et virtutibus, necnon et de variis huius seculi gradibus, viam qua peccator transgressus ad sui creatoris agnicionem redire debet recto tramite docere conatur. Titulus (que) libelli istius Speculum hominis (al. meditantis) nuncupatus est.’

We are here told that the book is in French, that it is divided into ten parts, that it treats of vices and virtues, and also of the various degrees or classes of people in this world, and finally that it shows how the sinner may return to the knowledge of his Creator.

The division of our Mirour into ten parts might have been a little difficult to make out from the work itself, but it is expressly indicated in the Table of Contents prefixed:

‘Cy apres comence le livre François q’est apellé Mirour de l’omme, le quel se divide en x parties, c’est assavoir’ &c.

The ten parts are then enumerated, six of them being made out of the classification of the different orders of society.

The contents of the Mirour also agree with the author’s description of his Speculum Hominis. After some prefatory matter it treats of vices in ll. 841-9720 of the present text; of virtues ll. 10033-18372; of the various orders of society ll. 18421-26604; of how man’s sin is the cause of the corruption of the world ll. 26605-27360; and finally how the sinner may return to God, or, as the Table of Contents has it, ‘coment l’omme peccheour lessant ses mals se doit reformer a dieu et avoir pardoun par l’eyde de nostre seigneur Jhesu Crist et de sa doulce Miere la Vierge gloriouse,’ l. 27361 to the end. This latter part includes a Life of the Virgin, through whom the sinner is to obtain the grace of God.

The strong presumption (to say no more) which is raised by the agreement of all these circumstances is converted into a certainty when we come to examine the book more closely and to compare it with the other works of Gower. Naturally we are disposed to turn first to his acknowledged French writings, the Cinkante Balades and the Traitié, and to institute a comparison in regard to the language and the forms of words. The agreement here is practically complete, and the Glossary of this edition is arranged especially with a view to exhibit this agreement in the clearest manner. There are differences, no doubt, such as there will always be between different MSS., however correct, but they are very few. Moreover, in the structure of sentences and in many particular phrases there are close correspondences, some of which are pointed out in the Notes. But, while the language test gives quite satisfactory results, so far as it goes, we cannot expect to find a close resemblance in other respects between two literary works so different in form and in motive as the Mirour and the Balades. It is only when we institute a comparison between the Mirour and the two other principal works, in Latin and English respectively, which our author used as vehicles for his serious thoughts, that we realize how impossible it is that the three should not all belong to one author. Gower, in fact, was a man of stereotyped convictions, whose thoughts on human society and on the divine government of the world tended constantly to repeat themselves in but slightly varying forms. What he had said in one language he was apt to repeat in another, as may be seen, even if we leave the Mirour out of sight, by comparison of the Confessio Amantis with the Vox Clamantis. The Mirour runs parallel with the English work in its description of vices, and with the Latin in its treatment of the various orders of society, and apart from the many resemblances in detail, it is worth while here to call attention to the manner in which the general arrangement of the French work corresponds with that which we find in the other two books.

In that part of the Mirour which treats of vices, each deadly sin is dealt with regularly under five principal heads, or, as the author expresses it, has five daughters. Now this fivefold division is not, so far as I can discover, borrowed from any former writer. It is of course quite usual in moral treatises to deal with the deadly sins by way of subdivision, but usually the number of subdivisions is irregular, and I have not found any authority for the systematic division of each into five. The only work, so far as I know, which shares this characteristic with the Mirour is the Confessio Amantis. It is true that in this the rule is not fully carried out; the nature of the work did not lend itself so easily to a quite regular treatment, and considerable variations occur: but the principle which stands as the basis of the arrangement is clearly visible, and it is the same which we find in our Mirour.

This is a point which it is worth while to exhibit a little more at large, and here the divisions of the first three deadly sins are set forth in parallel columns:

Mirour de l’omme.	Confessio Amantis.
i. Orguil, with five daughters, viz.	i. Pride, with five ministers, viz.
Ipocresie	Ypocrisie
Vaine gloire	Inobedience
Surquiderie	Surquiderie
Avantance	Avantance
Inobedience.	Veine gloire.
ii. Envie	ii. Envie
Detraccioun	Dolor alterius gaudii
Dolour d’autry Joye	Gaudium alterius doloris
Joye d’autry mal	Detraccioun
Supplantacioun	Falssemblant
Fals semblant.	Supplantacioun.
iii. Ire	iii. Ire
Malencolie	Malencolie
Tençoun	Cheste
Hange	Hate
Contek	Contek
Homicide.	Homicide.

In the latter part of the Confessio Amantis the fivefold division is not strictly observed, and in some books the author does not profess to deal with all the branches; but in what is given above there is quite enough to show that this method of division was recognized and that the main headings are the same in the two works.

Next we may compare the classes of society given in the Mirour with those that we find in the Vox Clamantis. It is not necessary to exhibit these in a tabular form; it is enough to say that with some trifling differences of arrangement the enumeration is the same. In the Vox Clamantis the estate of kings stands last, because the author wished to conclude with a lecture addressed personally to Richard II; and the merchants, artificers and labourers come before the judges, lawyers, sheriffs, &c., because it is intended to bring these last into connexion with the king; but otherwise there is little or no difference even in the smallest details. The contents of the ‘third part’ of the Mirour, dealing with prelates and dignitaries of the Church and with the parish clergy, correspond to those of the third book of the Vox Clamantis; the fourth part, which treats of those under religious rule, Possessioners and Mendicants, is parallel to the fourth book of the Latin work. In the Mirour as in the Vox Clamantis we have the division of the city population into Merchants, Artificers and Victuallers, and of the ministers of the law into Judges, Advocates, Viscounts (sheriffs), Bailiffs, and Jurymen. Moreover what is said of the various classes is in substance usually the same, most notably so in the case of the parish priests and the tradesmen of the town; but parallels of this kind will be most conveniently pointed out in the Notes.

To proceed, the Mirour will be found to contain a certain number of stories, and of those that we find there by much the greater number reappear in the Confessio Amantis with a similar application. We have the story of the envious man who desired to lose one eye in order that his comrade might be deprived of two (l. 3234), of Socrates and his scolding wife (4168), of the robbery from the statue of Apollo (7093), of Lazarus and Dives (7972), of Ulysses and the Sirens (10909), of the emperor Valentinian (17089), of Sara the daughter of Raguel (17417), of Phirinus, the young man who defaced his beauty in order that he might not be a temptation to women (18301), of Codrus king of Athens (19981), of Nebuchadnezzar’s pride and punishment (21979), of the king and his chamberlains (22765). All these are found in the Mirour, and afterwards, more fully related as a rule, in the Confessio Amantis. Only one or two, the stories of St. Macaire and the devil (12565, 20905), of the very undeserving person who was relieved by St. Nicholas (15757), of the dishonest man who built a church (15553), together with various Bible stories rather alluded to than related, and the long Life of the Virgin at the end of the book, remain the property of the Mirour alone.

If we take next the anecdotes and emblems of Natural History, we shall find them nearly all again in either the Latin or the English work. To illustrate the vice of Detraction we have the ‘escarbud,’ the ‘scharnebud,’ of the Confessio Amantis, which takes no delight in the flowery fields or in the May sunshine, but only seeks out vile ordure and filth (2894, Conf. Am. ii. 413). Envy is compared to the nettle which grows about the roses and destroys them by its burning (3721, Conf. Am. ii. 401). Homicide is made more odious by the story of the bird with a man’s features, which repents so bitterly of slaying the creature that resembles it (5029, Conf. Am. iii. 2599); and we may note also that in both books this authentic anecdote is ascribed to Solinus, who after all is not the real authority for it. Idleness is like the cat that would eat fish without wetting her paws (5395, Conf. Am. iv. 1108). The covetous man is like the pike that swallows down the little fishes (6253, Conf. Am. v. 2015). Prudence is the serpent which refuses to hear the voice of the charmer, and while he presses one ear to the ground, stops the other with his tail (15253, Conf. Am. i. 463). And so on.

Then again there are a good many quotations common to the Mirour and one or both of the other books, adduced in the same connexion and sometimes grouped together in the same order. The passage from Gregory’s Homilies about man as a microcosm, partaking of the nature of every creature in the universe, which we find in the Prologue of the Confessio and also in the Vox Clamantis, appears at l. 26869 of the Mirour; that about Peter presenting Judea in the Day of Judgement, Andrew Achaia, and so on, while our bishops come empty-handed, is also given in all three (Mir. 20065, Vox. Cl. iii. 903, Conf. Am. v. 1900). To illustrate the virtue of Pity the same quotations occur both in the Mirour and the Confessio Amantis, from the Epistle of St. James, from Constantine, and from Cassiodorus (Mir. 13929, 23055 ff., Conf Am. vii. 3149*, 3161*, 3137). Three quotations referred to ‘Orace’ occur in the Mirour, and of these three two reappear in the Confessio with the same author’s name (Mir. 3801, 10948, 23370, Conf. Am. vi. 1513, vii. 3581). Now of these two, one, as it happens, is from Ovid and the other from Juvenal; so that not only the quotations but also the false references are repeated. These are not by any means all the examples of common quotations, but they will perhaps suffice.

Again, if we are not to accept the theory of common authorship, we can hardly account for the resemblance, and something more than resemblance, in passages such as the description of Envy (Mir. 3805 ff., Conf. Am. ii. 3095, 3122 ff.), of Ingratitude (Mir. 6685 ff., Conf. Am. v. 4917 ff.), of the effects of intoxication (Mir. 8138, 8246, Conf. Am. vi. 19, 71), of the flock made to wander among the briars (Mir. 20161 ff., Conf. Am. Prol. 407 ff.), of the vainglorious knight (Mir. 23893 ff., Conf. Am. iv. 1627 ff.), and many others, not to mention those lines which occur here and there in the Confessio exactly reproduced from the Mirour, such as iv. 893,

‘Thanne is he wys after the hond,’

compared with Mir. 5436,

‘Lors est il sage apres la mein.’

Conf. Am. Prol. 213,

‘Of armes and of brigantaille,’

compared with Mir. 18675,

‘Ou d’armes ou du brigantaille,’

the context in this last case being also the same.

The parallels with the Vox Clamantis are not less numerous and striking, and as many of them as it seems necessary to mention are set down in the Notes to the Mirour, especially in the latter part from l. 18421 onwards.

Before dismissing the comparison with the Confessio Amantis, we may call attention to two further points of likeness. First, though the Mirour is written in stanzas and the Confessio in couplets, yet the versification of the one distinctly suggests that of the other. Both are in the same octosyllabic line, with the same rather monotonous regularity of metre, and the stanza of the Mirour, containing, as it does, no less than four pairs of lines which can be read as couplets so far as the rhyme is concerned, often produces much the same effect as the simple couplet. Secondly, in the structure of sentences there are certain definite characteristics which produce themselves equally in the French and the English work.

Resemblances of this latter kind will be pointed out in the Notes, but a few may be set down here. For example, every reader of Gower’s English is familiar with his trick of setting the conjunctions ‘and,’ ‘but,’ &c., in the middle instead of at the beginning of the clause, as in Conf. Am. Prol. 155,

‘With all his herte and make hem chiere,’

and similarly in the Balades, e.g. xx. i,

‘A mon avis mais il n’est pas ensi.’

Examples of this are common in the Mirour, as l. 100,

‘Pour noble cause et ensement

Estoiont fait,’

cp. 415, 4523, 7739, 7860, &c.

In other cases too there is a tendency to disarrangement of words or clauses for the sake of metre or rhyme, as Mir. 15941, 17996, compared with Conf. Am. ii. 2642, iv. 3520, v. 6807, &c.

Again, the author of the Confessio Amantis is fond of repeating the same form of expression in successive lines, e.g. Prol. 96 ff.,

‘Tho was the lif of man in helthe,

Tho was plente, tho was richesse,

Tho was the fortune of prouesse,’ &c.

Cp. Prol. 937, v. 2469, &c.

This also is found often in the Mirour, e.g. 4864-9:

‘Cist tue viel, cist tue enfant,

Cist tue femmes enpreignant,’ &c.

and 8294-8304,

‘Les uns en eaue fait perir,

Les uns en flamme fait ardoir,

Les uns du contek fait morir,’ &c.

The habit of breaking off the sentence and resuming it in a different form appears markedly in both the French and the English, as Mir. 89, 17743, Conf. Am. iv. 2226, 3201; and in several passages obscure forms of expression in the Confessio Amantis are elucidated by parallel constructions in the Mirour.

Finally, the trick of filling up lines with such tags as en son degré, de sa partie, &c. (e.g. Mir. 373, 865), vividly recalls the similar use of ‘in his degree,’ ‘for his partie,’ by the author of the Confessio Amantis (e.g. Prol. 123, 930).

The evidence of which I have given an outline, which may be filled up by those who care to look out the references set down above and in the Notes, amounts, I believe, to complete demonstration that this French book called Mirour de l’omme is identical with the Speculum Hominis (or Speculum Meditantis) which has been long supposed to be lost; and, that being so, I consider myself at liberty to use it in every way as Gower’s admitted work, together with the other books of which he claims the authorship, for the illustration both of his life and his literary characteristics.

Date.—The Speculum Hominis stands first in order of the three books enumerated by Gower, and was written therefore before the Vox Clamantis. This last was evidently composed shortly after the rising of the peasants in 1381, and to that event, which evidently produced the strongest impression on the author’s mind, there is no reference in this book. There are indeed warnings of the danger of popular insurrection, as 24104 ff., 26485 ff., 27229 ff., but they are of a general character, suggested perhaps partly by the Jacquerie in France and partly by the local disturbances caused by discontented labourers in England, and convey the idea that the writer was uneasy about the future, but not that a catastrophe had already come. In one passage he utters a rather striking prophecy of the evil to be feared, speaking of the strange lethargy in which the lords of the land are sunk, so that they take no note of the growing madness of the commons. On the whole we may conclude without hesitation that the book was completed before the summer of the year 1381.

There are some other considerations which will probably lead us to throw the date back a little further than this. In 2142 ff. it seems to be implied that Edward III is still alive. ‘They of France,’ he says, ‘should know that God abhors their disobedience, in that they, contrary to their allegiance, refuse by way of war to render homage and obedience to him who by his birth receives the right from his mother.’ This can apply to none but Edward III, and we are led to suppose that when these lines were written he was still alive to claim his right. The supposition is confirmed by the manner in which the author speaks of the reigning king in that part of his work which deals with royalty. Nowhere does he address him as a child or youth in the manner of the Vox Clamantis, but he complains of the trust placed by the king in flatterers and of the all-prevailing influence of women, calling upon God to remedy those evils which arise from the monstrous fact that a woman reigns in the land and the king is subject to her (22807 ff.). This is precisely the complaint which might have been expected in the latter years of Edward III. On the other hand there is a clear allusion in one place (18817-18840) to the schism of the Church, and this passage therefore must have been written as late as 1378, but, occurring as it does at the conclusion of the author’s attack upon the Court of Rome, it may well have been added after the rest. The expression in l. 22191,

‘Ove deux chiefs es sanz chevetein,’

refers to the Pope and the Emperor, not to the division of the papacy. Finally, it should be observed that the introduction of the name Innocent, l. 18783, is not to be taken to mean that Innocent VI, who died in 1362, was the reigning pope. The name is no doubt only a representative one.

On the whole we shall not be far wrong if we assign the composition of the book to the years 1376-1379.

Form and Versification.—The poem (if it may be called so) is written in twelve-line stanzas of the common octosyllabic verse, rhyming aab aab bba bba, so that there are two sets of rhymes only in each stanza. In its present state it has 28,603 lines, there being lost four leaves at the beginning, which probably contained forty-seven stanzas, that is 564 lines, seven leaves, containing in all 1342 lines, in other places throughout the volume, and an uncertain number at the end, probably containing not more than a few hundred lines. The whole work therefore consisted of about 31,000 lines, a somewhat formidable total.

The twelve-line stanza employed by Gower is one which was in pretty common use among French writers of the ‘moral’ class. It is that in which the celebrated Vers de la Mort were composed by Hélinand de Froidmont in the twelfth century, a poem from which our author quotes. Possibly it was the use of it by this writer that brought it into vogue, for his poem had a great popularity, striking as it did a note which was thoroughly congenial to the spirit of the age[I]. In any case we find the stanza used also by the ‘Reclus de Moiliens,’ by Rutebeuf in several pieces, e. g. La Complainte de Constantinoble and Les Ordres de Paris, and often by other poets of the moral school. Especially it seems to have been affected in those ‘Congiés’ in which poets took leave of the world and of their friends, as the Congiés Adan d’Arras (Barb. et Méon, Fabl. i. 106), the Congié Jehan Bodel (i. 135), &c. As to the structure of the stanza, at least in the hands of our author, there is not much to be said. The pauses in sense very generally follow the rhyme divisions of the stanza, which has a natural tendency to fall into two equal parts, and the last three lines, or in some cases the last two, frequently contain a moral tag or a summing up of the general drift of the stanza.

The verse is strictly syllabic. We have nothing here of that accent-metre which the later Anglo-Norman writers sometimes adopted after English models, constructing their octosyllable in two halves with a distinct break between them, each half-verse having two accents but an uncertain number of syllables. This appears to have been the idea of the metre in the mind of such writers as Fantosme and William of Waddington. Here however all is as regular in that respect as can be desired. Indeed the fact that in all these thousands of lines there are not more than about a score which even suggest the idea of metrical incorrectness, after due allowance for the admitted licences of which we have taken note, is a striking testimony not only of the accuracy in this respect of the author, but also to the correctness of the copy which we possess of his work. The following are the lines in question:

276. ‘De sa part grantement s’esjoït.’

397. ‘Ly deable grantement s’esjoït’

2742. ‘Prestre, Clerc, Reclus, Hermite,’

2955. ‘Soy mesmes car delivrer’

3116. ‘Q’avoit leur predicacioun oïe,’

3160. ‘Si l’une est male, l’autre est perverse,’

4745. ‘Molt plussoudeinent le blesce’

4832. ‘Ainz est pour soy delivrer,’

6733. ‘Dame Covoitise en sa meson’

(And similarly 13514 and 16579)

9617. ‘Mais oultre trestous autrez estatz’

9786. ‘Me mettroit celle alme en gage,’

10623. ‘L’un ad franchise, l’autre ad servage,’

10628. ‘L’un ad mesure, l’autre ad oultrage,’

13503. ‘Dieus la terre en fin donna,’

14568. ‘Et l’autre contemplacioun enseine.’

19108. ‘D’avoltire et fornicacioun’

24625. ‘Doun, priere, amour, doubtance,’

26830. ‘Homme; et puis de l’omme prist’

27598. ‘Qant l’angle ot ses ditz contez,’

This, it will be allowed, is a sufficiently moderate total to be placed to the joint account of author and scribe in a matter of more than 28,000 lines—on an average one in about 1,500 lines. Of these more than half can be corrected in very obvious ways: in 276, 397, we may read ‘grantment’ as in 8931; in 2955, 4832, we should read ‘deliverer,’ and in 9786 ‘metteroit,’ this e being frequently sounded in the metre, e.g. 3371, 16448, 18532; we may correct 3160, 9617, by altering to ‘mal,’ ‘autre’; in 4745 ‘plussoudeinement’ is certainly meant; 13503 is to be corrected by reading ‘en la fin,’ as in 15299, for ‘en fin,’ 19108 by substituting ‘avoltre’ for ‘avoltire,’ and 27598 by reading ‘angel,’ as in 27731 and elsewhere, for ‘angle.’ Of the irregularities that remain, one, exemplified in 3116 and 14568, consists in the introduction of an additional foot into the measure, and I have little doubt that it proceeds from the scribe, who wrote ‘predicacioun’ and ‘contemplacioun’ for some shorter word with the same meaning, such as ‘prechement’ and ‘contempler.’ In the latter of these cases I have corrected by introducing ‘contempler’ into the text; in the former, as I cannot be so sure of the word intended, the MS. reading is allowed to stand. There is a similar instance of a hypermetrical line in Bal. xxvii. 1, and this also might easily be corrected. The other irregularities I attribute to the author. These consist, first, in the use of ‘dame’ in several lines as a monosyllable, and I am disposed to think that this word was sometimes so pronounced, see Phonol. § ix (c); secondly, in the introduction of a superfluous unaccented syllable at a pause after the second foot, which occurs in 10623, 10628 (and perhaps 3160); thirdly, in the omission of the unaccented syllable at the beginning of the verse, as:

‘Prestre, Clerc, Reclus, Hermite,’—2742;

‘Doun, priere, amour, doubtance,’—24625;

‘Homme; et puis de l’omme prist’—26830.

Considering how often lines of this kind occur in other Anglo-Norman verse, and how frequent the variation is generally in the English octosyllables of the period, we may believe that even Gower, notwithstanding his metrical strictness, occasionally introduced it into his verse. It may be noted that the three lines just quoted resemble one another in having each a pause after the first word.

With all this ‘correctness,’ however, the verses of the Mirour have an unmistakably English rhythm and may easily be distinguished from French verse of the Continent and from that of the earlier Anglo-Norman writers. One of the reasons for this is that the verse is in a certain sense accentual as well as syllabic, the writer imposing upon himself generally the rule of the alternate beat of accents and seldom allowing absolutely weak syllables[J] to stand in the even places of his verse. Lines such as these of Chrétien de Troyes,

‘Si ne semble pas qui la voit

Qu’ele puisse grant fès porter,’

and these of Frère Angier,

‘Ses merites et ses vertuz,

Ses jeünes, ses oreisons,

.......

Et sa volontaire poverte

Od trestote s’autre desserte,’

are quite in accordance with the rules of French verse, but very few such lines will be found in the Mirour. Some there are, no doubt, as 3327:

‘D’envie entre la laie gent,’

or 3645:

‘Que nuls en poet estre garny.’

So also 2925, 3069, 4310 &c., but they are exceptional and attract our notice when they occur. An illustration of the difference between the usage of our author and that of the Continent is afforded by the manner in which he quotes from Hélinand’s Vers de la Mort. The text as given in the Hist. Litt. de la France, xviii. p. 88, is as follows (with correction of the false reading ‘cuevre’):

‘Tex me couve dessous ses dras,

Qui cuide estre tous fors et sains.’

Gower has it

‘Car tiel me couve soubz ses dras,

Q’assetz quide estre fortz et seins.’

He may have found this reading in the original, of which there are several variants, but the comparison will none the less illustrate the difference of the rhythms.

Subject-matter and Style.—The scheme of the Speculum Hominis is, as before stated, of a very ambitious character. It is intended to cover the whole field of man’s religious and moral nature, to set forth the purposes of Providence in dealing with him, the various degrees of human society and the faults chargeable to each class of men, and finally the method which should be followed by man in order to reconcile himself with the God whom he has offended by his sin. This is evidently one of those all-comprehending plans to which nothing comes amiss; the whole miscellany of the author’s ideas and knowledge, whether derived from books or from life, might be poured into it and yet fail to fill it up. Nevertheless the work is not an undigested mass: it has a certain unity of its own,—indeed in regard to connexion of parts it is superior to most medieval works of the kind. The author has at least thought out his plan, and he carries it through to the end in a laboriously conscientious manner. M. Jusserand in his Literary History of the English People conjectured reasonably enough that if this work should ever be discovered, it would prove to be one of those tirades on the vices of the age which in French were known as ‘bibles.’ It is this and much more than this. In fact it combines the three principal species of moral compositions all in one framework,—the manual of vices and virtues, the attack on the evils of existing society from the highest place downwards, and finally the versified summary of Scripture history and legend, introduced here with a view to the exaltation and praise of the Virgin. In its first division, which extends over nearly two-thirds of the whole, our author’s work somewhat resembles those of Frère Lorenz, William of Waddington and other writers, who compiled books intended to be of practical use to persons preparing for confession. For those who are in the habit of constant and minute self-examination it is necessary that there should be a distinct classification of the forms of error to which they may be supposed to be liable, and sins must be arranged under headings which will help the memory to recall them and to run over them rapidly. The classification which is based upon the seven mortal sins is both convenient and rational, and such books as the Somme des Vices et des Vertus and the Manuel des Pechiez, with the English translations or adaptations of them, were composed for practical purposes. While resembling these in some respects, our author’s work is not exactly of the same character. Their object is devotional, and form is sacrificed to utility. This is obvious in the case of the first-named book, the original, as is well known, of the Ayenbite of Inwyt and of Chaucer’s Persones Tale, and it is also true of the Manuel des Pechiez, though that is written in verse and has stories intermingled with the moral rules by way of illustration. The author of this work states his purpose at once on setting forth:

‘La vertu del seint espirit

Nus seit eidant en cest escrit,

A vus les choses ben mustrer,

Dunt hom se deit confesser,

E ausi en la quele manere.’

Upon which he proceeds to enumerate the various subjects of which he thinks it useful to treat, which are connected by no tie except that of practical convenience: ‘First we shall declare the true faith, which is the foundation of our law.... Next we shall place the commandments, which every one ought to keep; then the seven mortal sins, whence spring so many evils.... Then you will find, if you please, the seven sacraments of the Church, then a sermon, and finally a book on confession, which will be suitable for every one.’

On the other hand the Mirour de l’omme is a literary production, or at least aspires to that character, and as such it has more regularity of form, more ornaments of style, and more display of reading. The division and classification in this first part, which treats of vices and of virtues, have a symmetrical uniformity; instead of enumerating or endeavouring to enumerate all the subdivisions under each head, all the numerous and irregularly growing branches and twigs which spring from each stem, the author confines himself to those that suit his plan, and constructs his whole edifice on a perfectly regular system. The work is in fact so far not a manual of devotion, but rather a religious allegory. The second part, which is ingeniously brought into connexion with the same general plan, resembles, as has been said, such compositions as the Bible Guiot de Provins, except that it is very much longer and goes into far more elaborate detail on the various classes of society and their distinctive errors. Here the author speaks more from his own observation and less from books than in the earlier part of his poem, and consequently this division is more original and interesting. Many parts of it will serve usefully to confirm the testimony of other writers, and from some the careful student of manners will be able to glean new facts. The last 2,500 lines, a mere trifle compared with the bulk of the whole, contain a Life of the Virgin, as the principal mediator between God and man, and the book ends (at least as we have it) with not unpoetical praises and prayers addressed to her.

It remains to be seen how the whole is pieced together.

Sin, we are told, is the cause of all evils, and brought about first the fall of Lucifer and of his following from Heaven, and then the expulsion of Adam from Paradise. In a certain sense Sin existed before all created things, being in fact that void or chaos which preceded creation, but also she was a daughter conceived by the Devil, who upon her engendered Death (1-216). Death and Sin then intermarrying produced the seven deadly Vices, whose names are enumerated, and the Devil, delighted by his progeny, sent Sin and her seven daughters to gain over the World to his side, and then called a conference with a view to defeating the designs of Providence for the salvation of Man, and of consummating the ruin which had already been in part effected (217-396). They resolved to send Temptation as a messenger to Man, and invite him to meet the Devil and his council, who would propose to him something from which he would get great advantage. He came, but before his coming Death had been cunningly hidden away in an inner chamber, so that Man might not see him and be dismayed. The Devil, Sin and the World successively addressed him with their promises, and Temptation, the envoy, added his persuasion, so that at length the Flesh of Man consented to be ruled by their counsels. The Soul, however, rejected them and vehemently expostulated with the Flesh, who was thus resolved to follow a course which would in the end ruin them both (397-612). The Flesh wavered and was in part dismayed, but was unable altogether to give up the promised delights; upon which the Soul informed her of Death, who had been treacherously concealed from her view, and to counteract the renewed enticements of Sin called in Reason and Fear to convince the Flesh of her folly. Reason was overcome in argument by Temptation, but Fear took the Flesh by the hand and led her to the place where Death lay concealed. The Flesh trembled at sight of this horrid creature, and Conscience led her back to Reason, who brought her into agreement with the Soul, and thus for the time the designs of the Devil and of Sin were frustrated (613-756). The Devil demanded that Sin should devise some remedy, and she consulted with the World, who proposed marriage between himself and the seven daughters of Sin, in order that from them offspring might be produced by means of which Man might the more readily be overcome. The marriage was arranged and the daughters of Sin went in procession to their wedding. Each in turn was taken in marriage by the World, and of them the first was Pride (757-1056). By her he had five daughters, each of whom is described at length, namely Hypocrisy, Vainglory, Arrogance, Boasting and Disobedience, and lastly comes the description of Pride herself (1057-2616). The same order is observed with regard to the rest. The daughters of Envy are Detraction, Sorrow for others’ Joy, Joy for others’ Grief, Supplanting and Treachery (Fals semblant) (2617-3852). Anger has for her daughters Melancholy, Contention, Hatred, Strife, and Homicide (3853-5124). Sloth produces Somnolence, Laziness (or Pusillanimity), Slackness, Idleness, Negligence (5125-6180). Avarice bears Covetousness, Rapine, Usury, Simony and Niggardy (6181-7704). Gluttony’s daughters are Voracity, Delicacy, Drunkenness, Superfluity, Prodigality (7705-8616). Finally, Lechery is the mother of Fornication, Rape, Adultery, Incest and Vain-delight (8617-9720). The Devil assembled all the progeny of the Vices and demanded the fulfilment of the promise made by the World, that Man should be made subject to him, and they all together made such a violent attack upon Man, that he surrendered himself to their guidance and came to be completely in the power of Sin, whose evil influence is described (9721-10032). Reason and Conscience prayed to God for assistance against the Vices and their progeny, and God gave seven Virtues, the contraries of the seven Vices, in marriage to Reason, in order that thence offspring might be born which might contend with that of the Vices (10033-10176). Each of these, as may readily be supposed, had five daughters. Humility, who is the natural enemy of Pride, produced Devotion to set against Hypocrisy, Fear against Vainglory, Discretion against Arrogance, Modesty against Boasting, and Obedience against Disobedience, and after the description of all these in succession follows that of Humility herself (10177-12612). So of the rest; the five daughters of Charity, namely Praise, Congratulation, Compassion, Help and Goodwill, are opposed each in her turn to the daughters of Envy, as Charity is to Envy herself (12613-13380). Patience, the opponent of Anger, has for her daughters Good-temper, Gentleness, Affection, Agreement and Mercy (13381-14100). Prowess, the opposite of Sloth, is the mother of Watchfulness, Magnanimity, Resolution, Activity and Learning (or Knowledge), to the description of which last is added an exhortation to self-knowledge and confession of sins (14101-15180). Generosity, the contrary of Avarice, produces Justice, Liberality, Alms-giving, Largess and Holy-purpose, this fifth daughter being the opposite of Simony, the fourth daughter of Avarice, as Largess is of Niggardy, the fifth (15181-16212). Measure, the contrary of Gluttony, is the mother of Dieting, Abstinence, Nourishment, Sobriety, Moderation (16213-16572). Chastity, the enemy of Lechery, has for her daughters Good-care (against Fornication), Virginity, Matrimony, Continence and Hard-life (16573-18372).

Let us now, says our author, observe the issue of this strife for the conquest of Man, in which the Flesh inclines to the side of the Vices, and the Soul to that of Reason and the Virtues. We must examine the whole of human society, from the Court of Rome downwards, to decide which has gained the victory up to this time, and for my part I declare that Sin is the strongest power in this world and directs all things after her will and pleasure (18373-18420). Every estate of Man, therefore, is passed in review and condemned—the Pope and the Cardinals (18421-19056), the Bishops (19057-20088), the lower dignitaries of the Church, Archdeacons and others (20089-20208), the parish priests, the chantry priests, and those preparing for the priesthood (20209-20832), the members of religious orders, first the monks and then the friars (20833-21780), the secular rulers of the world, Emperors and Kings (21781-23208), great lords (23209-23592), knights and men of arms (23593-24180), the men of the law, pleaders and judges (24181-24816), the sheriffs, reeves and jurymen (24817-25176), the class of merchants and traders (25177-25500), that of artificers (25501-25980), victuallers (25981-26424), labourers (26425-26520). In short, all estates have become corrupted; whether the lay people are more to blame for it or the priests the author will not say, but all agree in throwing the blame on the world (or the age) and in excusing themselves (26521-26604). He addresses the world and asks whence comes all the evil of which he complains. Is it from earth, water, air or fire? No, all these are good in themselves. Is it from the heavenly bodies, sun, moon, stars, planet or comet? No, for the prayer of a good man can overcome all their influences. Is it from plants, birds, or beasts? But these all follow nature and do good. From what then is this evil? It is surely from that creature to whom God has given reason and submitted all things on earth, but who transgresses against God and does not follow the rules of reason. It is from Man that all the evils of the age arise, and we read in prophecy that for the sin of Man all the world, with the creatures which it contains, shall be troubled. Man is a microcosm, an abridgement of the world, and it is no wonder that all the elements should be disturbed when he transgresses (26605-26964). On the other hand the good and just man can command the elements and the powers of the material world, as Joshua commanded the sun and moon to stand still and as the saints have done at all times by miracles, and he is victorious at last even over Death, and attains to immortality by the grace of God (26965-27120). Surely, then, every man ought to desire to repent of his sin and to turn to God, that so the world may be amended and we may inherit eternal life. The author confesses himself to be as great a sinner as any man; but hope is his shield by the aid and mercy of Jesus Christ, notwithstanding that he has so idly wasted his life and comes so late to repentance (27121-27360). But how can he escape from his sins, how can he dare to pray, with what can he come before his God? Only by the help of his Lady of Pity, Mary, maid and mother, who will intercede for him if he can obtain her favour. Therefore he desires, before finishing his task, to tell of her conception and birth, her life and her death (27361-27480). Upon this follows the tale of the Nativity of the Virgin, as we find it (for example) in the Legenda Aurea, her childhood and espousal, the Nativity of Jesus Christ and the joys of our Lady, the Circumcision and the Purification, the baptism of our Lord, his miracles and his passion, the Resurrection, the sorrows of our Lady and her joys, the Ascension and the descent of the Spirit, the life of the Virgin Mary with St. John, her death, burial, and assumption; and the poet concludes his narrative with a prayer to both Son and Mother that they will have mercy upon his pain because of the pains which they themselves suffered, and give him that joy in which they now rejoice. Especially he is bound to celebrate the praise of his Lady, who is so gentle and fair and so near to God who redeemed us (27481-29904). He begins therefore to tell first of the names by which she is called, and with the praises of her, no doubt, he ended his book, which, as we have it, breaks off at l. 29945.

This, it will be seen, is a literary work with due connexion of parts, and not a mere string of sermons. At the same time it must be said that the descriptions of vices and virtues are of such inordinate length that the effect of unity which should be produced by a well-planned design is almost completely lost, and the book becomes very tiresome to read. We are wearied also by the accumulation of texts and authorities and by the unqualified character of the moral judgements. The maxim in l. 25225,

‘Les bons sont bons, les mals sont mals,’

is thoroughly characteristic of Gower, and on the strength of it he holds a kind of perpetual Last Judgement, in which he is always engaged in separating the sheep from the goats and dealing out to the latter their doom of eternal fire. The sentence sounds like a truism, but it contains in fact one of the grossest of fallacies. In short, our author has little sense of proportion and no dramatic powers.

As regards the invention of his allegory he seems to be to some extent original. There is nothing, so far as I know, to which we can point as its source, and such as it is, he is apparently entitled to the credit of having conceived it. The materials, no doubt, were ready to his hand. Allegory was entirely in the taste of the fourteenth century, dominated as it was by the influence of the Roman de la Rose, from which several of Gower’s personifications are taken. The Mariage des Sept Arts was a work of this period, and the marriage of the Deadly Sins was not by any means a new idea. For example in MS. Fairfax 24 (Bodleian Libr.) there is a part of a French poem ‘de Maritagio nouem filiarum diaboli,’ which begins,

‘Li deable se vout marier,

Mauveisté prist a sa moiller:

.......

De ceste ix filles engendra

Et diversement les marya,’ &c.

And no doubt other pieces of a similar kind exist.

The same is true as regards the other parts of the book, as has been already pointed out; the combination alone is original.

The style is uniformly respectable, but as a rule very monotonous. Occasionally the tedium is relieved by a story, but it is not generally told in much detail, and for the most part the reader has to toil through the desert with little assistance. It must not be supposed, however, that the work is quite without poetical merit. Every now and then by some touch of description the author betrays himself as the graceful poet of the Balades, his better part being crushed under mountains of morality and piles of deadly learning, but surviving nevertheless. For example, the priest who neglects his early morning service is reminded of the example of the lark, who rising very early mounts circling upward and pours forth a service of praise to God from her little throat:

‘Car que l’en doit sanz nul destour

Loenge rendre au creatour

Essample avons de l’alouette,

Que bien matin de tour en tour

Monte, et de dieu volant entour

Les laudes chante en sa gorgette.’ (5635 ff.)

Again, Praise is like the bee which flies over the meadows in the sunshine, gathering that which is sweet and fragrant, but avoiding all evil odours (12853 ff.). The robe of Conscience is like a cloud with ever-changing hues (10114 ff.). Devotion is like the sea-shell which opens to the dew of heaven and thus conceives the fair white pearl; not an original idea, but gracefully expressed:

‘Si en resçoit le douls rosé,

Que chiet du ciel tout en celée,

Dont puis deinz soi ad engendré

La margarite blanche et fine;

Ensi Devocioun en dée

Conceipt, s’elle est continué,

La Contemplacioun divine.’ (10818 ff.)

The lines in which our author describes the life of the beggar show that, though he disapproves, he has a real understanding of the delights of vagabondage, with its enjoyment of the open-air life, the sunshine, the woods, and the laziness:

‘Car mieulx amont la soule mie

Ove l’aise q’est appartenant,

C’est du solail q’est eschaulfant,

Et du sachel acostoiant,

Et du buisson l’erbergerie,

Que labourer pour leur vivant’ &c. (5801 ff.)

Other descriptions also have merit, as for example that of the procession of the Vices to their wedding, each being arrayed and mounted characteristically (841 ff.), a scene which it is interesting to compare with the somewhat similar passage of Spenser, Faery Queene, i. 4, that of Murder rocked in her cradle by the Devil and fed with milk of death (4795), and that of Fortune smiling on her friends and frowning on her enemies (22081 ff.).

Contemplation is described as one who loves solitude and withdraws herself from the sight, but it is not that she may be quite alone: she is like the maiden who in a solitary place awaits her lover, by whose coming she is to have joy in secret (10597 ff.). The truly religious man, already dead in spirit to this world, desires the death of the body ‘more than the mariner longs for his safe port, more than the labourer desires his wage, the husbandman his harvest, or the vine-dresser his vintage, more than the prisoner longs for his ransoming and deliverance, or the pilgrim who has travelled far desires his home-coming’ (10645 ff.). Such passages as these show both imagination and the power of literary expression, and the stanzas which describe the agony of the Saviour are not wholly unworthy of their high subject:

‘Par ce q’il ot le corps humein

Et vist la mort devant la mein,

Tant durement il s’effroia,

Du quoy parmy le tendre grein

Du char les gouttes trestout plein

Du sanc et eaue alors sua;

Si dist: O piere, entendes ça,

Fai que la mort me passera,

Car tu sur tout es soverein;

Et nepourqant je vuil cela

Que vous vuilletz que fait serra,

Car je me tiens a toy certein.’ (28669 ff.)

The man who wrote this not only showed some idea of the dignified handling of a tragic theme, but also had considerable mastery over the instruments that he used; and in fact the technical skill with which the stanza is used is often remarkable. There is sometimes a completeness and finish about it which takes us by surprise. The directions which our author gives us for a due confession of our sins are not exactly poetical, but the manner in which all the various points of Quomodo are wrapped up in a stanza, and rounded off at the end of it (14869 ff.) is decidedly neat; and the same may be said of the reference to the lives of the holy fathers, as illustrating the nature of ‘Aspre vie’:

‘Qui list les vies des saintz pieres,

Oïr y puet maintes manieres

De la nature d’Aspre vie:

Les uns souleins en les rocheres,

Les uns en cloistre ove lour confreres,

Chascun fist bien de sa partie;

Cil plourt, cist preche, cil dieu prie,

Cist june et veille, et cil chastie

Son corps du froid et des miseres,

Cist laist sa terre et manantie,

Cil laist sa femme et progenie,

Eiant sur tout leur almes cheres.’ (18253 ff.)

In fact, he is a poet in a different sense altogether from his predecessors, superior to former Anglo-Norman writers both in imagination and in technical skill; but at the same time he is hopelessly unreadable, so far as this book as a whole is concerned, because, having been seized by the fatal desire to do good in his generation, ‘villicacionis sue racionem, dum tempus instat, ... alleuiare cupiens,’ as he himself expresses it, he deliberately determined to smother those gifts which had been employed in the service of folly, and to become a preacher instead of a poet. Happily, as time went on, he saw reason to modify his views in this respect (as he tells us plainly in the Confessio Amantis), and he became a poet again; but meanwhile he remains a preacher, and not a very good one after all.

Quotations.—One of the characteristic features of the Mirour is the immense number of quotations. This citation of authorities is of course a characteristic of medieval morality, and appears in some books, as in the Liber Consolationis and other writings of Albertano of Brescia, in an extreme form. Here the tendency is very pronounced, especially in the part which treats of Vices and Virtues, and it is worth while to inquire what range of reading they really indicate. A very large number are from the Bible, and there can be little doubt that Gower knew the Bible, in the Vulgate version of course, thoroughly well. There is hardly a book of the Old Testament to which he does not refer, and he seems to be acquainted with Bible history even in its obscurest details. The books from which he most frequently quotes are Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ecclesiasticus, the proverbial morality of this last book being especially congenial to him. The quotations are sometimes inexact, and occasionally assigned to the wrong book; also the book of Ecclesiasticus, which is quoted very frequently, is sometimes referred to under the name of Sidrac and sometimes of Solomon: but there can be no doubt in my opinion that these Biblical quotations are at first hand. Of other writers Seneca, who is quoted by name nearly thirty times, comes easily first. Some of the references to him seem to be false, but it is possible that our author had read some of his works. Then come several of the Latin fathers, Jerome, Augustin, Gregory, Bernard, and, not far behind these, Ambrose. The quotations are not always easy to verify, and in most cases there is nothing to indicate that the books from which they are taken had been read as a whole. No doubt Gower may have been acquainted with some portions of them, as for instance that part of Jerome’s book against Jovinian which treats of the objections to marriage, but it is likely enough that he picked up most of these quotations at second hand. There are about a dozen quotations from Cicero, mostly from the De Officiis and De Amicitia, but I doubt whether he had read either of these books. In the Confessio Amantis he speaks as if he did not know that Tullius was the same person as Cicero (iv. 2648). Boethius is cited four times, one of the references being false; Cassiodorus and Isidore each four times, and Bede three times. Stories of natural history seem to be referred rather indiscriminately to Solinus, for several of these references prove to be false. Three quotations are attributed by the author to Horace (‘Orace’), but of these one is in fact from Ovid and another from Juvenal. He certainly got them all from some book of commonplaces. The same may be said of the passage alleged to be from Quintilian and of the references to Aristotle and to Plato. ‘Marcial,’ who is quoted three times, is not the classical Martial, but the epigrammatist Godfrey of Winchester, whose writings were in imitation of the Roman poet and passed commonly under his name. The distichs of Cato are referred to five times, and it is certain of course that Gower had read them. Ovid is named only once, and that is a doubtful reference, but the author of the Confessio Amantis was certainly well acquainted at least with the Metamorphoses and the Heroides. Valerius Maximus is the authority for two stories, but it is doubtful whether he is quoted at first hand. Fulgentius is cited twice, and ‘Alphonses,’ that is Petrus Alphonsi, author of the Disciplina Clericalis, twice. ‘Pamphilius’ (i.e. Pamphilus, de Amore) is cited once, but not in such a way as to suggest that Gower knew the book itself; and so too Maximian, but the passage referred to does not seem to be in the Elegies. The quotation from Ptolemy is, as usual, from the maxims often prefixed in manuscripts to the Almagest. Other writers referred to are Chrysostom, Cyprian, Remigius, Albertus Magnus, Hélinand, Haymo, and Gilbert. We know from a passage in the Confessio Amantis that Gower had read some of the works of Albertus, and we may assume as probable that he knew Gilbert’s Opusculum de Virginitate, for his reference is rather to the treatise generally than to any particular passage of it.

He was acquainted, no doubt, with the Legenda Aurea or some similar collection, and he seems to refer also to the Vitae Patrum. The moral and devotional books of his own day must have been pretty well known to him, as well as the lighter literature, to which he had himself contributed (Mir. 27340). On the whole we must conclude that he was a well-read man according to the standard of his age, especially for a layman, but there is no need to attribute to him a vast stock of learning on the strength of the large number of authors whom he quotes.

Proverbs, &c.—Besides quotations from books there will be found to be a number of proverbial sayings in the Mirour, and I have thought it useful to collect some of these and display them in a manner convenient for reference. They are given in the order in which they occur:

1726. ‘Chien dormant n’esveilleras.’

1783.‘l’en voit grever

Petite mosche au fort destrer.’

1944. ‘Pour tout l’avoir du Montpellers.’

2119. ‘Mais cil qui voet le mont monter,

Ainçois l’estoet le doss courber,

Qu’il truist la voie droite et pleine.’

2182. ‘Au despitous despit avient.’

5521. ‘Om dist, manace n’est pas lance.’

5593. ‘Endementiers que l’erbe es vals

Renaist et croist, moert ly chivals.’

5668. ‘Cil qui ne voet quant ad pooir

N’el porra puis qant ad voloir.’

5811. ‘Dieus aide a la charette.’

6660. ‘Poverte parte compaignie.’

7138. ‘Mais l’en dist, qui quiert escorchée

Le pell du chat, dont soit furrée,

Luy fault aucune chose dire.’

7237. ‘Comme cil qui chat achatera

El sac.’

7319. ‘pour le tresor de Pavie.’

7969. ‘Oisel par autre se chastie.’

8789. ‘Aviene ce q’avenir doit.’

8836. ‘Mais en proverbe est contenu,

Ly cous ad tout son fiel perdu

Et ad dieu en son cuer devant.’

9307. ‘Quant fole vait un fol querir,

Du fol trover ne poet faillir.’

9446. ‘Ce que polain prent en danture

Toute sa vie apres dura.’

12724. ‘Escript auci j’en truis lisant,

Au vois commune est acordant

La vois de dieu.’

13116. ‘du mal nage malvois port.’

13489. ‘C’est un proverbe de la gent,

Cil qui plus souffre bonnement

Plus valt.’

14440. ‘l’en dist en essampler

Qe dieus tous biens fait envoier,

Mais par les corns le boef n’apporte.’

15405. ‘Ne fait, comme dire l’en soloit,

De l’autry quir large courroie.’ (Cp. 24995.)

16117. ‘L’en dist ensi communement

Bon fin du bon commencement.’

16511. ‘vendre

Son boef pour manger le perdis.’

16532. ‘Du poy petit.’ (Cp. 15499.)

16943. ‘Qant piere hurte a la viole,

Ou l’ostour luite au russinole,

Savoir poetz q’ad le peiour.’

17257. ‘Om dist, Tant as, tant vals.’

17555. ‘Qant homme ad paié sa monoie,

Quoy valt ce lors a repentir?’

18013. ‘L’en dist ensi communement,

Retrai le fieu bien sagement

Et la fumée exteinderas.’

18020. ‘courser megre ne salt pas.’

20420. ‘Cil qui sanz draps se fait aler,

Mal avera son garçon vestu.’

21085. ‘Ly moigne, ensi comme truis escrit,

Ne sont pas fait de leur habit.’

22927. ‘la fortune a les hardis

S’encline.’

23413. ‘Trop est l’oisel de mesprisure

Q’au son ny propre fait lesure.’

24230. ‘L’un covoitous et l’autre fals

Ils s’entracordont de leger.’

24265. ‘Nul trop nous valt, sicomme l’en dist.’

24962. ‘Sicome crepaldz dist al herice,

Maldit soient tant seigneurant.’

25010. ‘Om doit seignour par la maisnie

Conoistre.’

25015. ‘tiel corsaint, tiel offrendour.’

25302. ‘Te dourra craie pour fourmage.’

27867. ‘qui bien ayme point n’oublie.’

28597. ‘De la proverbe me sovient,

Q’om dist que molt sovent avient

Apres grant joye grant dolour.’

Akin to the proverbs are the illustrations from Natural History, real or fictitious, of which there is a considerable number in the Mirour. These are of very various classes, from simple facts of ordinary observation to the monstrous inventions of the Bestiaries, which were repeated by one writer after another with a faith which rested not on any evidence of the facts stated, but upon their supposed agreement with the fitness of things, that is, practically, their supposed aptness as moral lessons, the medieval idea of the animal world being apparently that it was created and kept in being largely for the instruction of mankind. In taking the glow-worm as an illustration of hypocrisy (1130), the lark of joyous thankfulness (5637), the grasshopper of improvidence (5821), the lapwing of female dissimulation (8869), the turtle-dove of constancy (17881), the drone of indolence (5437), the camel of revengeful malice (4417), and the blind kitten of drunken helplessness (8221), the author is merely making a literary use of every-day observation. There are however, as might be expected, plenty of illustrations of a more questionable character. Presumption is like the tiger beguiled with the mirror (1561); the proud man who is disobedient to law is like the unicorn, which cannot be tamed (2101); the devil breaking down the virtue of a man by raising him high in his own conceit is like the osprey, which carries bones high in the air and breaks them by dropping them upon rocks (1849); Envy, who destroys with her breath the honour of all around her, is like the basilisk which kills all vegetation in the place where it is found (3745); the man-faced bird, which pines away because it has slain a man, is produced as a lesson to murderers (5029); the bad father, who teaches his sons to plunder the poor, is like the hawk, which beats its young and drives them from the nest in order that they may learn to kill prey for themselves (7009); the partridge is a lesson against stinginess (7671); the contagiousness of sin is illustrated by the fact that the panther infects other animals with his spots (9253), and yet in another place (12865) the sweetness of the human voice when it utters praise is compared to the fragrance of the panther’s breath. Contemplation is like the ‘chalandre,’ which flies up at midnight to the sky, and when on the earth will not look upon a dying person (10705); the fight between Arimaspians and griffons for emeralds is an image created for our instruction of the contest between the soul of man and the devil (10717); Devotion, who opens herself secretly to heaven and thus attains to the divine contemplation, is like the sea-shell which opens to the dew by night and from it conceives the pearl (10813); the spittle of a fasting man (according to Ambrose) will kill a serpent, and the fast itself will no doubt be effectual against the old serpent our enemy (18025). The bee does not come off well on the whole in these comparisons: he is chosen as the likeness of the idle and luxurious prelate, but this is for reasons which are not in themselves at all obvious, except that he has a sting and is unduly fond of sweets (19345). The prelate who protects his flock from encroachments of the royal or other authority is like the big fish which takes the smaller into its mouth to shelter them from the storm (19909); Humility is like the diamond, which refuses a setting of gold, but is drawn to the lowly iron, a confusion with the load-stone, arising from the name ‘adamant’ applied to both (12463). These are some of the illustrations which are drawn from the domain of Natural History, not original for the most part, but worth noting as part of the literary baggage of the period.

The Author and his Times.—We may gather from the Mirour some few facts about the personality of the author, which will serve to supplement in some degree our rather scanty knowledge of Gower’s life. He tells us here that he is a layman (21772), but that we knew already; and that he knows little Latin and little French,—‘Poi sai latin, poi sai romance’ (21775), but that is only his modesty; he knows quite enough of both. He has spent his life in what he now regards as folly or worse; he has committed all the seven deadly sins (27365); moreover he has composed love poems, which he now calls ‘fols ditz d’amour’ (27340); but for all this it is probable enough that his life has been highly respectable. He comes late to repentance (27299), and means to sing a song different from that which he has sung heretofore (27347), to atone, apparently, for his former misdeeds. We may assume, then, that he was not very young at the time when he wrote this book; and we know that he considered himself an old man when he produced the Confessio Amantis (viii. 3068*) in the year 1390. Men were counted old before sixty in those days, and therefore we may suppose him to be now about forty-six. We may perhaps gather from ll. 8794 and 17649 that he had a wife. In the former passage he is speaking of those who tell tales to husbands about their wives’ misconduct, and he says in effect, ‘I for my part declare (Je di pour moi) that I wish to hear no such tales of my wife’; in the second he speaks of those wives who dislike servants and other persons simply because their husbands like them, and he adds, ‘I do not say that mine does so,’ ‘Ne di pas q’ensi fait la moie.’ If the inference is correct, then his union with Agnes Groundolf in his old age was a second marriage, and this is in itself probable enough. We cannot come to any definite conclusion from this poem about his profession or occupation in life. It is said by Leland that Gower was a lawyer, but for this statement no evidence has ever been produced, and if we may judge from the tone in which he speaks of the law and lawyers in the Mirour, we must reject it. Of all the secular estates that of the law seems to him to be the worst (24805 ff.), and he condemns both advocates and judges in a more unqualified manner than the members of any other calling. He knows apparently a good deal about them and about the ‘customs of Westminster,’ but, judging by his tone, we shall probably be led to think that this knowledge was acquired rather in the character of a litigant than in that of a member of the legal profession. Especially the suggestion of a special tax to be levied on lawyers’ gains (24337 ff.) is one which could hardly have come from one who was himself a lawyer. Again, the way in which he speaks of physicians, whom he accuses of being in league with apothecaries to defraud patients, and of deliberately delaying the cure in order to make more money (24301, 25621 ff.), seems to exclude him quite as clearly from the profession of medicine, the condemnation being here again general and unqualified.

Of all the various ranks of society which he reviews, that of which he seems to speak with most respect is the estate of Merchants. He takes pains to point out both here and in the Vox Clamantis the utility of their occupation and the justice of their claim to reasonably large profits on successful ventures in consideration of the risks which they run (25177 ff.). He makes a special apology to the honest members of the class for exposing the abuses to which the occupation is liable, pleading that to blame the bad is in effect to praise the good (25213 ff., 25975 ff.), and he is more careful here than elsewhere to point out the fact that honest members of the class exist. These indications seem to suggest that it was as a merchant that Gower made the money which he spent in buying his land; and this inference is supported by the manner in which he speaks of ‘our City,’ and by the fact that it is with members of the merchant class that he seems to be most in personal communication. He has evidently discussed with merchants the comparative value of worldly and spiritual possessions, and he reports the saying of one of them,

‘Dont un me disoit l’autre jour,’

to the effect that he was a fool who did not make money if he might, for no one knew the truth about the world to come (25915 ff.). He feels strongly against a certain bad citizen who aims at giving privileges in trade to outsiders (26380 ff.), and the jealousy of the Lombards which he expresses (25429 ff.) has every appearance of being a prejudice connected with rivalry in commerce. ‘I see Lombards come,’ he says, ‘in poor attire as servants, and before a year has passed they have gained so much by deceit and conspiracy that they dress more nobly than the burgesses of our City; and if they need influence or friendship, they gain it by fraud and subtlety, so that their interests are promoted and ours are damaged at their will and pleasure.’

If we are to go further and ask in what branch of trade our author exercised himself, it is probable that we may see reason to set him down as a dealer in wool, so enthusiastic is he about wool as the first of all commodities, and so much has he to say about the abuses of the staple (25360 ff.). No doubt the business of exporting wool would be combined with that of importing foreign manufactured goods of some kind. It is known from other sources that Gower was a man who gradually acquired considerable property in land, and the references in the Mirour to the dearness of labour and the unreasonable demands of the labourer (24625 ff.) are what we might expect from a man in that position.

He tells us that he is a man of simple tastes, that he does not care to have ‘partridges, pheasants, plovers, and swans’ served up at his table (26293 ff.); that he objects however to finding his simple joint of meat stuck full of wooden skewers by the butcher, so that when he comes to carve it he blunts the edge of his knife (26237 ff.). We know moreover from the whole tone of his writings that he is a just and upright man, who believes in the due subordination of the various members of society to one another, and who will not allow himself to be ruled in his own household either by his wife or his servants. He thinks indeed that the patience of Socrates is much overstrained, and openly declares that he shall not imitate it:

‘Qui ceste essample voet tenir

Avise soy; car sans mentir

Je ne serray si pacient.’ (4186 ff.)

But, though a thorough believer in the principle of gradation in human society, he emphasizes constantly the equality of all men before God and refuses absolutely to admit the accident of birth as constituting any claim whatever to ‘gentilesce.’ The common descent of all from Adam is as conclusive on this point for him as it was for John Ball (23389 ff.), and he is not less clear and sound on the subject of wealth. Considering that his views of society are essentially the same as those of Wycliff, and considering also his strong views about the corruption of the Church and the misdeeds of the friars, it is curious to find how strongly he denounces ‘lollardie’ in his later writings.

He has a just abhorrence of war, and draws a very clear-sighted distinction between the debased chivalry of his day and the true ideal of knighthood, the one moved only by impulses of vainglorious pride and love of paramours,

‘Car d’orguil ou du foldelit,

Au jour present, sicomme l’en dist,

Chivalerie est maintenue.’ (23986 ff.)

and the other, set only on serving God and righting the wrong, represented finely in the character of Prowess:

‘Il ad delit sanz fol amour,

Proufit sanz tricher son prochein,

Honour sanz orguillous atour.’ (15176 ff.)

Above all, our author has a deep sense of religion, and his study has been much upon the Bible. He deeply believes in the moral government of the world by Providence, and he feels sure, as others of his age also did, that the world has almost reached its final stage of corruption. Whatever others may do, he at least intends to repent of his sins and prepare himself to render a good account of his stewardship.

Let us pass now from the person of the author and touch upon some of those illustrations of the manners of the time which are furnished by the Mirour. In the first place it may be said that in certain points, and especially in what is said of the Court of Rome and the Mendicant orders, it fully confirms the unfavourable impression which we get from other writers of the time. Gower has no scruples at any time in denouncing the temporal possessions of the Church as the root of almost all the evil in her, and here as elsewhere he tells the story of the donation of Constantine, with the addition of the angelic voice which foretold disaster to spring from it. Of dispensations, which allow men to commit sin with impunity, he takes a very sound view. Not even God, he says, can grant this, which the Pope claims the power to grant (18493). The Mendicant friars are for him those ‘false prophets’ of whom the Gospel spoke, who should come in sheep’s clothing, while inwardly they were ravening wolves. He denounces their worldliness in the strongest language, and the account of their visits to poor women’s houses, taking a farthing if they cannot get a penny, or a single egg if nothing else is forthcoming (21379), reminds us vividly of Chaucer’s picture of a similar scene. But in fact the whole of the Church seems to our author to be in a wrong state. He does not relieve his picture of it by any such pleasing exception as the parish priest of the Canterbury Tales. He thinks that it needs reform from the top to the bottom; the clergy of the parish churches are almost as much to blame as the prelates, monks and friars, and for him it is the corruption of the Church that is mainly responsible for the decadence of society (21685 ff.). These views he continued to hold throughout his life, and yet he apparently had no sympathy whatever with Lollardism (Conf. Am. Prol. 346 ff. and elsewhere). His witness against the Church comes from one who is entirely untainted by schism. Especially he is to be listened to when he complains how the archdeacons and their officers abuse the trust committed to them for the correction of vices in the clergy and in the laity. With the clergy it is a case of ‘huy a moy, demain a vous’—that is, the archdeacon or dean, being immoral himself, winks at the vices of the clergy in order that his own may be overlooked; the clergy, in fact, are judges in their own cause, and they stand or fall together. If, however, an unfortunate layman offends, they accuse him forthwith, in order to profit by the penalties that may be exacted. ‘Purs is the erchedeknes helle,’ as Chaucer’s Sompnour says, and Gower declares plainly that the Church officials encourage vice in order that they may profit by it: ‘the harlot is more profitable to them,’ he says, ‘than the nun, and they let out fornication to farm, as they let their lands’ (20149 ff.).

Setting aside the Church, we may glean from the Mirour some interesting details about general society, especially in the city of London. There is a curious and life-like picture of the gatherings of city dames at the wine-shop, whither with mincing steps they repair instead of to church or to market, and how the vintner offers them the choice of Vernazza and Malvoisie, wine of Candia and Romagna, Provence and Monterosso—not that he has all these, but to tickle their fancies and make them pay a higher price—and draws ten kinds of liquor from a single cask. Thus he makes his gain and they spend their husbands’ money (26077 ff.). We find too a very lively account of the various devices of shopkeepers to attract custom and cheat their customers. The mercer, for example, is louder than a sparrow-hawk in his cries; he seizes on people in the street and drags them by force into his shop, urging them merely to view his kerchiefs and his ostrich feathers, his satins and foreign cloth (25285 ff.). The draper will try to sell you cloth in a dark shop, where you can hardly tell blue from green, and while making you pay double its value will persuade you that he is giving it away because of his regard for you and desire for your acquaintance (25321 ff.). The goldsmith purloins the gold and silver with which you supply him and puts a base alloy in its place; moreover, if he has made a cup for you and you do not call for it at once, he will probably sell it to the first comer as his own, and tell you that yours was spoilt in the making and you must wait till he can make you another (25513 ff.). The druggist not only makes profit out of sin by selling paints and cosmetics to women, but joins in league with the physician and charges exorbitantly for making up the simplest prescription (25609 ff.). The furrier stretches the fur with which he has to trim the mantle, so that after four days’ wear it is obvious that the cloth and the fur do not match one another (25705 ff.). Every kind of food is adulterated and is sold by false weights and measures. The baker is a scoundrel of course, and richly deserves hanging (26189), but the butcher is also to blame, and especially because he declines altogether to recognize the farthing as current coin and will take nothing less than a penny, so that poor people can get no meat (26227). Wines are mixed, coloured and adulterated; what they call Rhenish probably grew on the banks of the Thames (26118). If you order beer for your household, you get it good the first time and perhaps also the second, but after that no more; and yet for the bad as high a price is charged as for the good (26161 ff.). Merchants in these days talk of thousands, where their fathers talked of scores or hundreds; but their fathers lived honestly and paid their debts, while these defraud all who have dealings with them. When you enter their houses, you see tapestried rooms and curtained chambers, and they have fine plate upon the tables, as if they were dukes; but when they die, they are found to have spent all their substance, and their debts are left unpaid (25813 ff.).

In the country the labourers are discontented and disagreeable. They do less work and demand more pay than those of former times. In old days the labourer never tasted wheaten bread and rarely had milk or cheese. Things went better in those days. Now their condition is a constant danger to society, and one to which the upper classes seem strangely indifferent (26425 ff.).

Curious accounts are given of the customs of the legal profession, and when our author comes to deal with the jury-panel, he tells us of a regularly established class of men whose occupation it is to arrange for the due packing and bribing of juries. He asserts that of the corrupt jurors there are certain captains, who are called ‘tracers’ (traiciers), because they draw (treront) the others to their will. If they say that white is black, the others will say ‘quite so,’ and swear it too, for as the tracer will have it, so it shall be. Those persons who at assizes desire to have corrupt jurymen to try their case must speak with these ‘tracers,’ for all who are willing to sell themselves in this manner are hand and glove with them, and so the matter is arranged (25033 ff.). The existence of a definite name for this class of undertakers seems to indicate that it was really an established institution.

These are a few of the points which may interest the reader in the reflection of the manners of society given by our author’s ‘mirror.’ The whole presents a picture which, though no doubt somewhat overcharged with gloom, is true nevertheless in its outlines.

Text.—It remains to speak of the text of this edition and of the manuscript on which it depends.

In the year 1895, while engaged in searching libraries for MSS. of the Confessio Amantis, I observed to Mr. Jenkinson, Librarian of the Cambridge University Library, that if the lost French work of Gower should ever be discovered, it would in all probability be found to have the title Speculum Hominis, and not that of Speculum Meditantis, under which it was ordinarily referred to. He at once called my attention to the MS. with the title Mirour de l’omme, which he had lately bought and presented to the University Library. On examining this I was able to identify it beyond all doubt with the missing book.

It may be thus described:

Camb. Univ. Library, MS. Additional 3035, bought at the Hailstone sale, May 1891, and presented to the Library by the Librarian.

Written on parchment, size of leaves about 12” x 7¾”, in eights with catchwords; writing of the latter half of the 14th century, in double column of forty-eight lines to the column; initial letter of each stanza coloured blue or red, and larger illuminated letters at the beginning of the chief divisions, combined with some ornamentation on the left side of the column, and in one case, f. 58 v^o, also at the top of the page. One leaf is pasted down to the binding at the beginning and contains the title and table of contents. After this four leaves have been cut out, containing the beginning of the poem, and seven more in other parts of the book. There are also some leaves lost at the end. The first leaf after those which have been cut out at the beginning has the signature a iiii. The leaves (including those cut out) have now been numbered 1, 1*, 2, 3, 4, &c., up to 162; we have therefore a first sheet, of which half is pasted down (f. 1) and the other half cut away (f. 1*), and then twenty quires of eight leaves with the first leaf of the twenty-first quire, the leaves lost being those numbered 1*, 2, 3, 4, 36, 106, 108, 109, 120, 123, 124, as well as those after 162.

The present binding is of the last century and doubtless later than 1745, for some accounts of work done by ‘Richard Eldridge’ and other memoranda, written in the margins in an illiterate hand, have the dates 1740 and 1745 and have been partly cut away by the binder. The book was formerly in the library of Edward Hailstone, Esq., whose name and arms are displayed upon a leather label outside the binding, but it seems that no record exists as to the place from which he obtained it. From the writing in the margin of several pages it would seem that about the year 1745 it was lying neglected in some farm-house. We have, for example, this memorandum (partly cut away) in the margin of one of the leaves: ‘Margat ... leved at James ... in the year of our Lord 1745 and was the dayre maid that year ... and her swithart name was Joshep Cockhad Joshep Cockhad carpenter.’ On the same page occurs the word ‘glosterr,’ which may partly serve to indicate the locality.

The manuscript is written in one hand throughout, with the exception of the Table of Contents, and the writing is clear, with but few contractions. In a few cases, as in ll. 4109, 4116, 28941 f., corrections have been made over erasure. The correctness of the text which the MS. presents is shown by the very small number of cases in which either metre or sense suggests emendation. Apart from the division of words, only about thirty corrections have been made in the present edition throughout the whole poem of nearly thirty thousand lines, and most of these are very trifling. I have little doubt that this copy was written under the direction of the author.

As regards the manner in which the text of the MS. has been reproduced in this edition, I have followed on the whole the system used in the publications of the ‘Société des Anciens Textes Français.’ Thus u and v, i and j, have been dealt with in accordance with modern practice, whereas in the MS. (as usual in French and English books of the time) v is regularly written as the initial letter of a word for either u or v, and u in other positions (except sometimes in the case of compounds like avient, avoegler, envers, envie, &c.), while, as regards i and j, we have for initials either i or I (J), and in other positions i. Thus the MS. has vn, auoir, while the text gives for the reader’s convenience un, avoir; the MS. has ie or Ie, iour or Iour, while the text gives je, jour. Again, where an elision is expressed, the MS. of course combines the two elements into one word, giving lamour, quil, qestoit, while the text separates them by the apostrophe, l’amour, qu’il, q’estoit. Some other separations have also been made. Thus the MS. often, but by no means always, combines plus with the adjective or adverb to which it belongs: plusbass, plusauant; and often also the word en is combined with a succeeding verb, as enmangeast, enserroit: in these instances the separation is made in the text, but the MS. reading is recorded. In other cases, as with the combinations sique, sicomme, nounpas, envoie, &c., the usage of the MS. has been followed, though it is not quite uniform.

The final -é (-és) and -ée (-ées) of nouns and participles have been marked with the accent for the reader’s convenience, but in all other cases accents are dispensed with. They are not therefore used in the terminations -ez, -eez, even when standing for -és, -ées, as in festoiez, neez, nor in asses, sachies, &c., standing for assez, sachiez (except l. 28712), nor is the grave accent placed upon the open e of apres, jammes, &c. Occasionally the diaeresis is used to separate vowels; and the cedilla is inserted, as in modern French, to indicate the soft sound of c where this seems certain, but there are some possibly doubtful cases, as sufficance, naiscance, in which it is not written.

With regard to the use of capital letters, some attempt has been made to qualify the inconsistency of the MS. In general it may be said that where capitals are introduced, it has been chiefly in order to indicate more clearly the cases where qualities or things are personified. It has not been thought necessary to indicate particularly all these variations.

The punctuation is the work of the editor throughout; that of the MS., where it exists, is of a very uncertain character.

Contractions, &c., are marked in the printed text by italics, except in the case of the word et, which in the MS. is hardly ever written in full except at the beginning of a line. In such words as ꝑest, ꝑfit, ꝑfaire, there may be doubt sometimes between per and par, and the spelling of some of them was certainly variable. Attention must be called especially to the frequently occurring -o̅n̅ as a termination. It has been regularly written out as -oun, and I have no doubt that this is right. In Bozon’s Contes Moralizés the same abbreviation is used, alternating freely with the full form -oun, and it is common in the MSS. of the Confessio Amantis and in the Ellesmere MS. of the Canterbury Tales (so far as I have had the opportunity of examining it), especially in words of French origin such as devocioun, contricioun. In the French texts this mode of writing is applied also very frequently to the monosyllables mon, ton, son, bon, don, non, as well as to bonté, nonpas, noncertein, &c. The scribe of the Mirour writes doun in full once (24625) with do̅n̅ in the same stanza, in Bal. xxi. 4 noun is twice fully written, and in some MSS. of the Traitié (e.g. Bodley 294) the full form occurs frequently side by side with the abbreviation. A similar conclusion must be adopted as regards a̅n̅ (annum), also written aun, gla̅n̅, da̅n̅cer, and the termination -a̅n̅ce, which is occasionally found.