MONKS AND FRIARS.
There was a distinction between the Monks and Friars, which caused the latter to become the object of hatred and envy. Both the monastic, or regular, and parochial clergy, encouraged the attacks made upon them. The Monks were, by most of their rules, absolutely forbidden to go out of their monasteries, and, therefore, could receive only such donations as were left to them. On the contrary, the Friars, who were professed mendicants, on receiving notice of the sickness of any rich person, constantly detached some of their members, to persuade the sick man to bequeath alms to their convent; thus often, not only anticipating the Monks, but, likewise the parochial clergy. Besides, as most of them were professed preachers, their sermons were frequently compared with those of the clergy, and in general, not to the advantage of the latter. In these sermons, the poverty and distress of their order, were topics that, of course, were neither omitted, nor slightly passed over. Considering the power of the Church, before the Reformation, it is not to be supposed that any of the Poets, as Chaucer, &c., would have ventured to tell those rediculous stories of the Friars, with which their works abound, had they not been privately protected by the superior clergy.
CURIOUS TURKISH CONTRIVANCE.
Wonderful are the appliances by which ingenuity contrives to supply the evasions of idleness. We give one of them, as described by Mr. Albert Smith, in his "Month at Constantinople."
"Passing some cemeteries and public fountains, we came to the outskirts of the city, which consist chiefly of gardens producing olives, oranges, raisins and figs, irrigated by creaking water-wheels worked by donkeys. To one of these the droll contrivances which attracted our notice was affixed. The donkey who went round and round was blinded, and in front of him was a pole, one end of which was fixed to the axle and the other slightly drawn towards his head-gear and there tied: so that, from the spring he always thought somebody was pulling him on. The guide told us that idle fellows would contrive some rude mechanism so that a stick should fall upon the animal's hind quarters at every round, and so keep him at work whilst they went to sleep under the trees."
FIGURES OF DOGS ON ANCIENT TOMBS.
In attempting to assign a reason for the frequent occurrence of dogs at the feet of tombs, we shall most probably be right if we simply attribute the circumstance to the affection borne by the deceased for some animal of that faithful class. That these sculptured animals were sometimes intended for likenesses of particular dogs is evident. Sir Bryan Stapleton, on his brass at Ingham, Norfolk, rests one foot on a lion, the other on a dog; the name of the latter is recorded on a label, Jakke. Round the collar of a dog at the feet of an old stone figure of a knight, in Tolleshunt Knight's Church, Essex, letters were formerly traced which were supposed to form the word Howgo.
In a dictionary of old French terms, we find that the word Gocet means a small wooden dog, which it was customary to place at the foot of the bed. Now it has been thought that something of this kind was intended in the representation of dogs on tombs, and that this support of the feet merely indicates the old custom of having that sort of wooden resting-place for the feet when in a recumbent position. But our first supposition appears the more natural, and is supported by the fact that a large proportion of these sculptured dogs, instead of being placed beneath the feet, are seated on the robe or train, looking upwards with the confidence of favourite animals. Judith, daughter of the Emperor Conrad, is represented on her tomb (1191) with a little dog in her right hand.