Julius, Bishop of Wurtzburg, had as witty a fool as his brother of Munster. This jester was very much petted; but like spoiled favourites, he sometimes offended grievously by his impertinence, and the Bishop once ordered him to prison. While the gaoler was strewing some straw on the ground of the cell for the condemned jester to lie upon, the latter slipped out, locked the keeper in, and carried the key to the Bishop, with the remark that it was “all right.” “All right?” exclaimed the prelate. “It is all wrong, since you are not in prison, sirrah, and the gaoler is.” “There may be some mistake,” answered the joker; “but I can hardly think so. You ordered a fool to prison, and I am sure you will find one there, if you will only look for him.” The prelates who kept fools about their hearth, had not unfrequently a taste of their office which was more likely to excite anger than merriment. These prelates occasionally even slept with their jesters. The former could not have been much given to meditation, since they depended on the latter to laugh them into sleep, or to solace them by merriment when they were wakeful. One of the princely Archbishops of Cologne followed this very indifferent fashion. Were not my space becoming so limited, I might here fittingly notice those “Festivals of Fools” in which whole cities once took part, and of which the church was the principal scene. I allude especially to those _Fêtes des Fous_, Saturnalia established or continued to conciliate semi-converted pagans, and which were not entirely abolished till the end of the sixteenth century. This subject, however, would require a volume, and in some countries has had _volumes_ devoted to it. The chief characteristic of a _Fête des Fous_ was, insult to the Church, and it is astonishing that a powerful Church bore with the nuisance for so long a period. A boy was, generally at the Epiphany, elected as Bishop, mounted on an ass, and escorted to church, where the people would interrupt the priest at his office, by unseemly songs, jeers, and profane and filthy conversation. Some would play at dice upon the altar, while others would feign to denounce them, or pretend to assist the priest, by mock exhortations or obscene lectures. The procession of fools, on leaving the church, greeted the open-mouthed starers by flinging bran in their faces, as they passed; and amused others by jumping over brooms, and chanting so-called hymns,--that were not for edification. This abomination lasted so long that many conservatively-minded persons saw a mystery in it, and when the church authorities aided the secular government to suppress the iniquity, there were not wanting individuals who maintained that this festival of fools was as pleasing to God, as the holiest festival of the year! Among these objectors to the suppression of this custom, were many clerics, who either enjoyed the uproarious holiday or made profit by being actors on the occasion.