One of the quaint poems of the gentle priest descants upon the bad behavior of people at church. This poem has an historical interest, for it throws light upon the manners of the time, over which poetry, tradition, and romance have thrown a very delusive charm. We learn from it that while the Christian people of Europe were on their knees praying in church they were liable to be disturbed by the "mad noise and shout" of a loitering crowd; by knights coming in from the field, falcon upon wrist, with their dogs yelping at their heels; by men chaffering and bargaining as they walked up and down; by the wanton laughter of girls ogled by young men; by lawyers conferring with clients; and by all the usual noises of a crowd at a fair. The author wonders "That the false paynyms within theyr Temples be To theyr ydols moche more devout than we." The worthy Brandt was not the only satirist of Church manners. The "Usurer's Paternoster," given by M. Champfleury, is more incisive than Brandt's amiable remonstrance. The usurer, hurrying away to church, tells his wife that if any one comes to borrow money while he is gone, some one must be sent in all haste for him. On his way he says his paternoster thus: "_Our Father._ Blessed Lord God [Beau Sire Dieu], be favorable to me, and give me grace to prosper exceedingly. Let me become the richest money-lender in the world. _Who art in heaven._ I am sorry I wasn't at home the day that woman came to borrow. Really I am a fool to go to church, where I can gain nothing. _Hallowed be thy name._ It's too bad I have a servant so expert in pilfering my money. _Thy kingdom come._ I have a mind to go home to see what my wife is about. I'll bet she sells a chicken while I am away, and keeps the money. _Thy will be done._ It pops into my mind that the chevalier who owed me fifty francs paid me only half. _In heaven._ Those damned Jews do a rushing business in lending to every one. I should like very much to do as they do. _As on earth._ The king plagues me to death in raising taxes so often."