"Besides the commemoration of saints," writes this distinguished antiquarian, "there are in certain local calenders notices of national events connected with the well-being of the Church. Thus, in the _Parisian Breviary_, we have on the eighteenth of August a commemoration of the victory of Philip the Fair in Flanders, A.D. 1304." Here is the fourth of the appointed lessons: "Philip the Fair, King of the French, in the year 1304, about the feast of St. Mary Magdalene, having set forth with his brothers Charles and Louis and a large army into Flanders, pitched his tent near Mons, where was a camp of the rebel Flemings. But when, on the eighteenth of August, which was the Tuesday after the Assumption of St. Mary, the French had from morning till evening stood on the defence, and were resting themselves at nightfall, the enemy, by a sudden attack, rushed on the camp with such fury that the body-guard had scarce time to defend him. "_Response_. Come from Lebanon, my spouse; come, and thou shalt be crowned, The odor of thy sweet ointments is above all perfumes. _Versicle_. The righteous judge shall give a crown of righteousness." Then, after this short interlude of snatches from Holy Scripture, there follows the Fifth Lesson: "At the beginning of the fight the life of the king was in great danger, but shortly after, his troops crowding together from all quarters to his tent, where the battle was sharpest, obtained an illustrious victory over the enemy"--and more of this sort until all of a sudden we come upon the Song of Solomon again. "_V_. Thou art all fair, my love; come from Lebanon. _R_. They that have not defiled their garments, they shall walk with me in white, for they are worthy." Is not Cranmer's contemptuous mention of these uncertain legends and vain repetitions amply justified? And can we be too thankful to the sturdy champions of the Reformation, who in the face of no little opposition and by efforts scarcely appreciated to-day, cut us loose from all responsibility for such solemn nonsense? There are some who feel aggrieved that chapters from the Apocrypha should have found admission to our new lectionary, and there are even those who think that of the canonical Scriptures, passages more edifying than certain of those appointed to be read might have been chosen, but what would they think if they were compelled to hear the minister at the lecturn say: "Here beginneth the first chapter of the Adventures of Philip the Fair"?