hich we use
without thinking of their authorship date from this time. Among the
latter are, "Set not the wolf to guard the sheep," "Never borrow
trouble,"

"The king must die,
And so must I,"

and many other such gems of wisdom.

In all this the women had some share, if they did not play so important
part as their sisters in France. Their position as hostesses, or as the
objects of poetical tribute, enabled them to comment and criticize, and,
if they did little actual composing, they were allowed to take a
prominent part in the performance of music. We find in the old books of
rules and codes of education that the woman of rank and position was
possessed of many accomplishments, if not exactly those that are
expected to-day. One of these codes, or Essenhamens, as they were
called, gives the four chief duties of women, and, making allowance for
the change in civilization, they correspond fairly well with those
already quoted from the present German Empress. The cooking and sewing
remain the same, but, instead of amusing the children, the women were
expected to care for children of a larger growth, by obtaining a
knowledge of surgery. The chatelaine was supposed to take full charge of
her lord if he returned wounded from tourney or battle. Instead of
church matters, the final accomplishment was the secular game of chess.

Another work of the time gives rules of behaviour for women, inculcating
a submissive demeanour that is hardly practised to-day. The usual
modesty of deportment was prescribed; women were always to direct their
glances discreetly downward, and in the case of a stranger were to
speak only when addressed. If a room were full of women, and a man
should suddenly enter, the rules of decorum compelled them to rise
immediately, and remain standing until he should seat himself.

The extent of knightly devotion to women in the age of chivalry can
hardly be exaggerated. The work of Ulrich von Lichtenstein, for
instance, in his "Frauendienst," is full of the most absurd
performances, which any sensible lady would have been justified in
repudiating. The Troubadours indulged in even greater vagaries, and one
Pierre Vidal, in love with a certain Louve de Penautier, whose first
name meant "she-wolf," adopted the name of Loup, and actually assumed a
wolf skin as his garment. To prove his sincerity even more, he insisted
upon being completely wrapped in this hide and hunted by hounds and
horsemen. After the d