and mind have not been edified thereby . . . Moreover, the number
and hardness of the rules called the Pie, and the manifold
changings of the service was the cause that to turn the Book
only was so hard and intricate a matter that many times there was
more business to find out what should be read than it was to read
it when it was found out. These inconveniences therefore considered,
here is set forth such an order whereby the same shall be
redressed."

As an illustration of what Cranmer meant by his curious phrase,
"planting in uncertain stories," take the following Lessons quoted
by Dr. Neale in his _Essays on Liturgiology_:

"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?