The old story of Chaucer’s having been fined for beating a Franciscan friar in Fleet Street is doubted by Thynne, though hardly, I think, on sufficient grounds. Tradition (when it agrees with our own views) is not lightly to be disturbed, and remembering with what more than feminine powers of invective “spiritual” men seem to be not unfrequently endowed, and also how atrociously insolent a Franciscan friar would be likely to be (of course from the best motives) to a man like Chaucer, who had burnt into the very soul of monasticism with the caustic of his wit, I shall continue to believe the legend for the present. If the mediæval Italians are to be believed, the cudgelling of a friar was occasionally thought necessary even by the most faithful, and I see no reason why hale Dan Chaucer should not have lost his temper on sufficient provocation. Old men have hot blood sometimes, and Dickens does not outrage probability when he makes Martin Chuzzelwit the elder, fell Mr Pecksniff to the ground. Much of the tract is taken up by corrections of etymologies, and the explanation of obscure and obsolete words. It is a little curious that the word “orfrayes,” which had gone so far out of date as to be unintelligible to Master Speight, should, thanks to the new rage for church and clergy decoration, have become reasonably common again. The note on the “Vernacle” is another bit of close and accurate antiquarian knowledge worth noting. It is most tantalizing that after all he says about that mysterious question of “The Lords son of Windsor,” a question as mysterious as that demanding why Falstalf likened Prince Henry’s father to a “singing man” of the same place, we should be left as wise as we were before. We have here and there, too, hints as to what we have lost from Thynne’s great storehouse of information; how valuable would have been “that long and no common discourse” which he tells us he might have composed on that most curious form of judicial knavery, the ordeal; and possibly much more so is that of his “collections” for his edition of Chaucer! This last may, however, be still recovered by some fortunate literary mole. The notice, by no means clear, but certainly not complimentary, of “the second editione to one inferior personne, than my father’s editione was,” may refer to any of the editions of Chaucer which, according to Lowndes, were printed more or less from William Thynne’s edition in 1542, 1546, and 1555; but from another passage hinting that Speight followed “a late English corrector whom I forbear to name,” I suspect that the “inferior personne” was poor John Stowe, and the edition to have been that edited by him in 1561, the nearest in point of date to that of Speight.