bound, perhaps, to consider this latest version of the poem as being, upon the whole, the best; but we cannot but remark that, whilst it is more mature, it is less vigorous.

Thus, during a period of more than thirty years, the poem called the Vision of Piers the Plowman, with its appendix of Do-Well, Do-bet, and Do-best, descriptive of three stages in the Christian's life and experience, grew slowly into its final shape under the author's hands. It is a poem of almost unique character, and can hardly be judged by any of the usual standards. In one respect, it reminds us of Butler's Hudibras ; it was obviously written rather to give the author an opportunity of saying many things by the way than on such a definite plan as requires a close attention on the part of a reader. The general plan has but slight coherence, and merely aims at considering what improvement can be made in men's characters, and what hope there is for the world from the teachings of Christianity. He who does a kindly action, does well; but he who teaches men to do good, does better; whilst he who combines both, who does good himself and teaches others to do the same, does best. From frequently dwelling on this theme, the poet at last considers the life of Christ; and, following the narrative of the gospels, describes His entry into Jerusalem, His betrayal and crucifixion. At this point, he supplements the gospel narrative from the apocryphal gospel of Nicodemus, describing the descent of Christ into hell, His victory over Satan and Lucifer, and His release of the souls of the patriarchs from their long prison. Then follows the glorious Resurrection of the Saviour, the descent of the Holy Ghost, and the bestowal upon men of the gifts of the Spirit. But the progress of Christianity is checked to some extent by the descent of Antichrist and the attack of the Seven Deadly Sins upon the church; and the poem concludes by reminding us that the church is still militant, that corruptions have crept in where only truth should be preached, and that the end is not yet.

In 1399, during the brief space when the deposition of Richard II. was already imminent but had not yet been decided upon, our author wrote a poem, addressed to the king, upon the subject of the misgovernment under which England suffered. This poer, in the only extant manuscript, breaks off abruptly in the middle of a sentence; and, though it is of considerable interest, its immediate application was speedily set aside by the rapid progress of events.

The manuscripts of Piers the Plowman, in all three versions, are very numerous, and it was once an extremely favourite poem. In

the reign of Edward VI. it was for the first time printed, and went through three editions in one year. It was familiar to several of our great writers, including Lydgate, Skelton, Gascoigne, Drayton and Spenser. The author's vocabulary is extremely copious, which occasions one difficulty in understanding his language. Some have imagined that his language contains only words of English origin, but this notion must have originated in extreme ignorance. He uses, in fact, the common midland dialect of the time, into which French words were introduced with great freedom; and the percentage of French words employed by him is slightly greater than that which is to be found in Chaucer. The metre is the usual unrhymed alliterative metre of the older English period; almost the only metre which can rightly be called English, since nearly all others have been borrowed from French or Italian. We commonly find about three syllables in each line, which begin with the same letter; and such syllables are, as a rule, accented ones. The general swing of the lines has been described as anapæstic; it is rather dactylic, with one or more unaccented syllables prefixed. The characters which William describes as appearing to him in consecutive visions have all allegorical names, and some are visionary enough; but others may have been sketched from the life, and are as distinct as a drawing by Hogarth. The chief power of his writing resides in its homely earnestness, and in his hearty hatred of untruth in every form. In treating of theological questions, he is often obscure, minute, and tedious; but in treating of life and manners he is keen, direct, satirical, and vivid. Some portions of the poem could well be spared; others are of much value. It is not suited to all readers; but most of those who explore it must be glad that they have done so. Apart from its literary merit, it is one of the most valuable linguistic monuments in the whole range of our literature.

Instead of giving, as is usual, short scraps of the poem which are almost unintelligible for lack of context, we present here, in a much abridged form, the 21st Passus or canto of the poem, the subject of which will be readily perceived. It deals with Christ's entry into Jerusalem, the crucifixion, descent into hell, and resurrection. In the following extract, the spelling has been modernised, because the language is a little difficult, as is usual in alliterative poems. It is given as a specimen of style, but has no linguistic value in its modern dress.

W. W. SKEAT.

PASSUS XXI. (LATEST VERSION).

Wo-weary and wetshod

went I forth after,

As a reckless renk that recketh not of sorrow,
And yede2 forth like a lorel3· all my life-time,

Till I wex weary of this world and wilned 5 eft to sleep,
And leaned me till Lent and long time I slept.

7

Of girls and of gloria laus
And how hosanna by organ

8

greatly I dreamed,

One, was semblable to the Samaritan

Plowman,

Barefoot on an ass-back bootless came pricking,

Without spurs or spear

9

and sprackly he looked,

As is the kind of a knight that cometh to be dubbed,
To get his gold spurs and galoches 10 y-couped 11.

Then was Faith in a fenestre 12 and cried, 'Ah! fili David!
As doth an herald of arms when auntres 13
Old Jews of Jerusalem for joy they sung,

come to jousts.

Benedictus qui venit in nomine domini. Then I frayned1 at Faith what all that fare meant, And who should joust in Jerusalem 'Jesus,' he said, 'And fetch that the fiend claimeth 'Is Piers in this place?' quoth I 'Liberum Dei arbitrium,' quoth he That this Jesus, of his gentrise 18

'for love hath undertaken shall joust in Piers' arms,

In his helm and in his habergeon · humanâ naturâ.
That Christ be not known for consummatus Deus,
In Piers' plates the Plowman 19
For no dint 21 shall him dere

16 the fruit [souls of men] belonging to Piers Plowman 18 condescension.

15 that which.

[Christ].

17

glanced, looked.

plate armour of Piers Plowman.

'Who shall joust with Jesus?' quoth I 'Jews, or the scribes? 'Nay,' quoth Faith, 'but the fiend and false-doom-to-die. Death saith he will for-do1 and adown bring

on land and in water.

and hath laid his life to wed",

All that liveth or looketh
Life saith that he lieth
That, for all that Death can do

To walk, and fetch from the fiend

And lay it where him liketh and Lucifer bind,
And for-beat and bring adown

3

O mors, ero mors tua!

bale and death for ever'

Then came Pilate with much people · sedens pro tribunali,
To see how doughtily Death should do and deem their beye

right 5.

The Jews and the justices against Jesus they were,

And all the court cried crucifige! loud.

6

Then put him forth a pilour · before Pilate, and said, 'This Jesus of our Jews' temple · japed and despised, To for-do it on a day and in three days after

Edify it eft new here He stands that said it,
And yet make it as much
Both as long and as large ·
And as wide as it ever was
'Crucifige!' quoth a catch-poll
'Tolle! tolle!' quoth another
And began of a green thorn
And set it sore on His head

'Ave! Rabbi!' quoth that ribald and reeds shot at His eyes: And nailed Him with three nails naked on the rood,

And, with a pole, poison [they] put to his lips,

And bade Him drink, His death to let 11 and His days lengthen And said, 'if He soothfast be He will Himself help;

And now, if Thou be Christ

God's son of heaven,

Come adown off this rood and then will we 'lieve

That life Thee loveth and will not let Thee die.'

'Consummatum est!' quoth Christ and comsed' for o swoon Piteously and pale as prisoner that dieth.

The Lord of life and of light then laid His eyes together,
The day for dread thereof withdrew and dark became the sun;
The wall of the temple to-clave 2 even in two pieces;
The hard rock all to-rove3
The earth quook and quashed
And dead men for that din

And told why that tempest

4

and right dark night it seemed.
as [if] it quick were,
came out of deep graves,

so long time dured;

'For a bitter battle' the dead body said;

'Life and Death in this darkness

6 ·

the one for-doth" the other,

But shall no wight wit witterly who shall have the mastery Ere Sunday, about sun-rising' and sank with that to earth.

*

*

7

*

Lo! how the sun gan lock her light in her-self,
When she saw Him suffer death
Lo! the earth, for heaviness
Quaked as [a] quick thing

*

who sun and sea made! that He would death suffer,

and al to-quashed the rocks! Lo! hell might not hold but opened, when God tholed, And let out Simon's sons to see Him hang on rood. Now shall Lucifer 'lieve it though him loath think;

adown all that be against Him,

of them that Him liketh. 'Suffer we,' said Truth I hear and see both and bids unspar the gates;

A Spirit speak to hell

Attollite portas, principes, vestras; &c.'

A voice loud in that light to Lucifer cried,

'Princes of this palace · prest 12 undo the gates,

For here cometh with crown the king of all glory.'
Then sighed Satan and said to hell,

'Such a light, against our leave Lazarus it fetched; Cold care and cumbrance is come to us all.

10 In the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus, two sons of Simeon rise from

the dead, and reveal what they have witnessed in hell during Christ's descent into it. 12 quickly.

device, plan.