English _ladies_ (despite the fact that English lords cherished wigs even in the days of Stephen) do not appear to have adopted the fashion of wearing wigs until about the year 1550. Junius, in his ‘Commentarium de Comâ,’ says that false hair came into use here with the ladies about that time, and that such use had never before been adopted by English matrons. Some three hundred years before this, the Benedictine monks at Canterbury, who were canons of the cathedral, very pathetically represented to Pope Innocent IV. that they were subject to catch very bad colds from serving in the wide and chilly cathedral bareheaded. The Pontiff gave them solemn permission to guard against cathedral rheum, bronchitis, and phthisis, by covering their heads with the hood common to their order; bidding them have especial care however to fling back the hood at the reading of the Gospel, and at the elevation of the host. Zealous churchmen have been very indignant at the attempts made to prove that the permission of Innocent IV. might be construed as a concession to priests, allowing them to wear wigs if they were so minded. The question was settled at the Great Council of England, held in London in 1268. That Council refused to sanction the wearing by clerics of “quas vulgo _coifas_ vocant,” except when they were travelling. If a coif even was profane, a wig to this Council would have taken the guise of the unpardonable sin. It is, however, well known that although Rome forbade a priest to officiate with covered head, permission to do so was purchaseable. In fact, the rule of Rome was not founded, as it was asserted to be, on Scripture. Permission was readily granted to the Romish priests in China to officiate with covered heads, as being more agreeable to the native idea there of what was seemly. Native sentiment nearer home was much less regarded. Thus, when the Bulgarians complained to Pope Nicholas, that their priests would not permit them to wear, during church-time, those head-wrappers, or turbans, which it was their habit never to throw off, the Pontiff returned an answer which almost took the brief and popular form of “Serve you right!” and the Bulgarians, on the other hand, took nothing by their motion. Our Anselm of Canterbury was as little conceding to the young and long-haired nobles of his day as was Pope Nicholas to the Bulgarians. Eadmer, a monk of Canterbury, relates that on one occasion (Ash Wednesday) the Primate soundly rebuked the hirsute aristocracy, put them in penance, and refused them absolution, until they had submitted to be close shorn. The prelate in question would allow none to enter his cathedral who wore either long or false hair.