you two gospels for one groat, and that is dog-cheap for a mass in any
place in England.'" The story-teller does not inform us whether the
pious merchants accepted of the business-like compromise offered by
"Mass John."

Hagiolatry was quite as much in vogue among the priesthood in medieval
times as mariolatry has since been the special characteristic of the
Romish Church, to the subordination (one might almost say, the
suppression) of the only true object of worship; in proof of which, here
is a droll anecdote from another early English collection, _Mery Tales,
Wittie Questions, and Quicke Answeres, very pleasant to be readde_ (No.
cxix): "A friar, preaching to the people, extolled Saint Francis above
[all] confessors, doctors, virgins, martyrs, prophets--yea, and above
one more than prophets, John the Baptist, and finally above the
seraphical order of angels; and still he said, 'Yet let us go higher.'
So when he could go no farther, except he should put Christ out of his
place, which the good man was half afraid to do, he said aloud, 'And yet
we have found no fit place for him.' And, staying a little while, he
cried out at last, saying, 'Where shall we place the holy father?' A
froward fellow standing among the audience,[151] said, 'If thou canst
find none other, then set him here in my place, for I am weary,' and so
he went his way."--This "froward fellow's" unexpected reply will
doubtless remind the reader of the old man's remark in the mosque, about
the "calling of Noah," _ante_, pp. 66, 67.[152]

[151] There were no pews in the churches in those "good old
times."

[152] _Apropos_ of saint-worship, quaint old Thomas Fuller
relates a droll story in his _Church History_, ed. 1655,