A charming poet and a charmer, Jean Godard, a Parisian, the worthy rival of Ronsard, published towards 1580 a piece entitled /The Glove/. This witty nursling of the Muses pretends to show us the origin of the Glove in the burning passion which Venus cherished for Adonis. According to our poet-- "The young Adonis ever loved the field, Now hunting the swift stag with branching head, And now the tusked wild boar, just cause of dread. Venus, fierce burning with his love alway, Would never leave him neither night nor day, But running after his sweet eyes and face, Sought young Adonis, when he sought the chase: Deep into forests full of gloomy fear, The goddess followed him she held so dear. One day, as she pursued him, bursting through A bramble thicket, which by ill chance grew Athwart her path, a cruel, hardy thorn Pierced her white hand, and lo! the rose was born From her red blood. But Venus, vexed with pain, Lest any hurt should touch her hand again, Bade all at once her unclad Graces sew A leathern shelter for her hand of snow. The lovely Graces, draped in floating hair, No longer left their own hands free and bare, But bound and covered them as Venus did. And now the Glove's true origin is hid No longer. This is it. Fair girls alone Wore on their hands what now is common grown. Then came the Emperor, and then his court, And then at last the folk of every sort." Charming in its /naïveté/, is it not, my dear friend, this fable which gives the Glove the same origin as the rose! The use of Gloves was widely spread in the Middle Ages. They covered the wrist entirely, even with women. "The Gloves of the common people," says M. Charles Louandre, "were of sheep-skin, of doe skin, or of fur; those of bishops were made in chain-stitch of silk with gold thread; those of simple priests were of black leather." But what will surprise you is that, contrary to the present custom, it was absolutely forbidden to appear gloved before great personages. In a manuscript lately published, /The Sayings of the Merchants/, a merchant cries, with an engaging air-- "I have pretty little bands, And for damsels dainty Gloves, Furred to warm their snowy hands, These I sell to those sweet loves." But what were the furred Gloves of sweet loves or gentle ladies compared to those which the fair Venetians showed on the grand days of ceremonies, when the Doge prepared to mount the Bucentaur for the purpose of espousing the sea? These, according to M. Feuillet de Conches, were Gloves of silk marvellously embroidered, embossed with gold and pearls; some of them were of lace of an incomparable richness, well worthy to be offered as a present, and to figure in the budget of handsome acknowledgments. But the most wonderful were the Gloves of painted skin, like the water-colours on Fans.