place many final _e_'s were then sounded which are now silent; and it is
not easy to tell which of them to sound. Again, some words were
pronounced as dissyllables which we treat as monosyllables, and others as
monosyllables which we treat as dissyllables. I suspect besides, that
some of the old writers were content to allow a prolonged syllable to
stand for two short ones, a mode not without great beauty when sparingly
and judiciously employed. Short supernumerary syllables were likewise
allowed considerable freedom to come and go. A good deal must, however,
be put down to the carelessness and presumption of the transcribers, who
may very well have been incapable of detecting their own blunders. One of
these ancient mechanics of literature caused Chaucer endless annoyance
with his corruptions, as a humorous little poem, the last in his works,
sufficiently indicates. From the same sources no doubt spring as well
most of the variations of text in the manuscripts.

The first of the poems is chiefly a conversation between the Lord on the
cross and his mother standing at its foot. A few prefatory remarks in
explanation of some of its allusions will help my readers to enjoy it.

It was at one time a common belief, and the notion has not yet, I think,
altogether vanished, that the dying are held back from repose by the love
that is unwilling to yield them up. Hence, in the third stanza, the Lord
prays his mother to let him die. In the fifth, he reasons against her
overwhelming sorrows on the ground of the deliverance his sufferings will
bring to the human race. But she can only feel her own misery.

To understand the seventh and eighth, it is necessary to know that, among
other strange things accepted by the early Church, it was believed that
the mother of Jesus had no suffering at his birth. This of course
rendered her incapable of perfect sympathy with other mothers. It is a