THE FRIAR AND THE SOMPNOUR.--His satire extends also to the friar, who has
not even that semblance of virtue which is the tribute of the hypocrite to
our holy faith. He is not even the demure rascal conceived by Thomson in
his Castle of Indolence:

... the first amid the fry,

* * * * *

A little round, fat, oily man of God,
Who had a roguish twinkle in his eye,
When a tight maiden chanced to trippen by,

* * * * *

Which when observed, he shrunk into his mew,
And straight would recollect his piety anew.

But Chaucer's friar is a wanton and merry scoundrel, taking every
license, kissing the wives and talking love-talk to the girls in his
wanderings, as he begs for his Church and his order. His hood is stuffed
with trinkets to give them; he is worthily known as the best beggar of his
house; his eyes alight with wine, he strikes his little harp, trolls out
funny songs and love-ditties. Anon, his frolic over, he preaches to the
collected crowd violent denunciations of the parish priest, within the
very limits of his parish. The very principles upon which these mendicant
orders were established seem to be elements of evil. That they might be
better than the monks, they had no cloisters and magnificent gardens, with