character, and the nobles had no great affection for the church.[50] The domestic fool was common in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries up to the time of Louis XIV.; but it is said that there were such men at the Court of Louis le Debonnaire.  Giraldus Cambrenses writes that when he was preaching for the Crusades in South Wales, one John Spang “who by simulating fatuity, and having a quick tongue was wont to be a great comfort to the court,” said to Resus, the king:  “You should be greatly indebted to your relative the Archdeacon for sending a hundred of your men to day to follow Christ, and if he had spoken Welsh I do not believe that one of all your people would remain to you.”  This was towards the end of the twelfth century, but it does not seem clear that John Spang was a court jester.  We may fairly consider that the institution of the domestic fools, the employment of men, who professed jocularity as a branch of art distinct from music and legerdemain increased mental activity, and a growing desire for humour.  But the men who made jesting their profession were generally regarded with contempt, and an Act of Parliament in the reign of Edward III. ordered strollers of this kind to be whipped out of the town.  An old satire written at the time of the Reformation brings together actors, dustmen, jugglers, conjurers, and sellers of indulgences.

But we want something more than wits and drolleries, and even public performances, to complete our idea of Comedy.  We must have literary composition and artistic construction.  From songs of warlike achievements such as were chanted by the old scalders to cheer their chiefs over the bowl, there arose by degrees fanciful tales with which the Saxons and their successors amused themselves after their dinner, and round the blazing hearth.  In the tenth century the clergy found stories to amuse the post-prandial hour—­extravagant, indelicate, or profane—­such were the times, but marking improved activity of thought.  Thus they enjoyed such a tale as that a “prophet” went to Heriger (Archbishop of Mayence about 920) and told him he had been to the nether world, a place, he said, surrounded by woods.  The Archbishop replied that, if that was the case, he would send his lean swine there to eat acorns.  The prophet added that afterwards he went to heaven, and saw Christ and his saints sitting at table and eating; John the Baptist was the butler, and served the wine, and St. Peter was the cook.  The Archbishop asked the stranger how he fared himself, and on his saying that he sat in the corner and stole a piece of liver—­Heriger instead of praising his sanctity ordered him to be tied to a stake, and flogged for theft.  The “Supper,” as old as the tenth century, is another humorous description.  A grave assembly of scriptural characters, from Adam and Eve downwards, are invited, Cain sits on a plough, Abel on a milk-pail &c.; two, Paul and Esau, are obliged to stand for want of room, and Job complains of having nothing to sit on but a dunghill.  Jonah is here the butler.  Samson brings honey to the dessert, and Adam apples—­