YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE LIBRARY OF THE
DIVINITY SCHOOL

Henry VIIL and the English Monasteries.
An attempt to illustrate the History of their Suppression,
with an Appendix and Maps showing the situation of
the religious houses at the time of their dissolution. By
Francis Aidan Gasquet, O.S.B. i Vols. Third
Edition. Price 12s. each.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

INTRODUCTION— Monastic England.
CHAPTER I. — Dawn of Difficulties.
CHAPTER II. — Precedents in England for Suppression.
CHAPTER HI. — Cardinal Wolsey and the Monasteries.
CHAPTER IV.— The Holy Maid of Kent.
CHAPTER V. — The Franciscan Observants.
CHAPTER VI.— The Carthusians.
CHAPTER VII. — The Visitation of Monasteries, 1535-6.
CHAPTER VIIL — The Suppression of the Lesser Monasteries
by Act of Parliament.
CHAPTER IX. — The Comperta Monastica, and Charges against
the Monks.
CHAPTER X. — The Chief Accuser, Thomas Crumwell.
CHAPTER XL — The Accusers' Chief Agents : Layton, Legh,
Ap Rice, and London.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

CHAPTER I. — Dissolution of the Lesser Monasteries.
CHAPTER IL— The Lincolnshire Rising.
CHAPTER III.— The Pilgrimage of Grace.
CHAPTER IV.— The Second Northern Rising.
CHAPTER V. — Dissolutions by Act of Attainder.
CHAPTER VI.— The Suppression of Convents.
CHAPTER VII.— The Fall of the Friars.
CHAPTER VIIL — Progress of the General Dissolution.
CHAPTER IX. — The Three Benedictine Abbots.
CHAPTER X.— The Monastic Spoils.
CHAPTER XL— The Spending of the Spoils. The Disbanded
Monks and their Pensions.
CHAPTER XII. — Results of the Suppression.
Appendix, &c. Maps. Index to both Volumes.

Henry VIIL and the English Monasteries.
SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS UPON VOL. I.
"The old scandals, universally discredited at the time, and believed in by a later
generation only through prejudice and ignorance, are now dispelled for ever." —
Academy. Signed, James Gairdner.
" His book promises to be a most valuable contribution to ecclesiastical history.''
— Saturday Review.
" A learned, careful and successful vindication of the personal character of the
Monks. ... In Mr. Gasquet's skilful hands the dissolution of the Monasteries assumes
the proportions of a Greek tragedy." — Guardian.
" The work is solid, authentic and trustworthy in its matter. . . . The history
speaks for itself in clear, simple and good English." — Dublin Review. Signed, Henry
Edward, Cardinal Archbishop.
"A book of great value. . . . We are impatient for the second volume." —
Reliquary. Signed, J. C. Cox, LL.D.
" Mr. Gasquet is always calm and moderate. . . . He has produced a work of much
research, which has the merit of being most conscientiously fair." — Notes and Queries.
" Every source of information seems to have been drawn on. The result is a
picture of monastic life more truthful than any hitherto painted."— The Standard.
" We look anxiously for the second volurne of this work, which will always hold
its own on the shelves of our libraries, for it is the result of the labours of a learned
scholar and divine." — Tablet.
" Gasquet is a trenchant writer and formidable historical scholar, and his book will
be welcomed as an admirable contribution to the study of the epoch." — Star.
" An excellent and most interesting volume." — Freeman's Journal.
" This is a noteworthy book. . . . The author writes in a calm and critical spirit
and the style is lucid and refined.'' — Kensington News.
"The book is so interesting, so temperately written, and in such excellent
English . . . that we are glad to commend it most cordially to our readers." — Literary
Churchman. " It is a book which students of history ought to possess." — Sussex Advertiser.
"A most important work." — American Catholic fforld.
" It is as instructive as it is gravely important." — Nation.
" A historian of the right kind, and one who deserves the success, remarkable for a
book of the kind, which he has already had." — Manchester Guardian.
" A very interesting and valuable volume. . . . Every page teems with informa
tion." — Archaeological Review.
" The present work shows that the Benedictine Order can still produce writers not
unworthy to hand on the reputation earned in the field of history by the brethren of the
learned congregation of St. Maur." — Church Times.
" The author's statements are beyond dispute, while his main conclusions are
formed with much fairness." — St. James's Gazette.
" Gasquet's ' Henry VIII.' will be a very valuable work for historical reference."—
Punch. " The book will be thankfully received by all historical scholars who work with
unbiassed minds." — Publishers' Circular.
" His second volume will be looked forward to with expectation and interest."—
Daily Telegraph.
" The real merit of the work is that it is one of great and useful historical
research. — English Churchman.
" We think he has executed his task with praiseworthy candour, and all who
desire that truth should prevail will thank him for giving the results of his laborious
researches to a generation which is willing to rectify the judgments of a less critical
age. — Church Review.
" This volume is a splendid addition to our history.''— Universe.
" Great diligence, great care, great accuracy, and the gift of skilful grouping and
ordering of facts, are all evident on the face of this excellent volume."— The Month.
" Fr. Gasquet's statement of facts leave nothing to be desired in point of accuracy "
— Westminster Review. y'

JOHN HODGES, 25, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, W.C.

SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS UPON VOL. II.
" We do not feel the least hesitation in saying that ' Henry VIII. and the English
Monasteries' is by far the best 'book in existence on the religious changes which took
place in England during the period between Henry's desire to put away his wife and the
accession of Elizabeth to the throne." — Tablet.
" The volume forms in every respect a worthy companion and successor to its
precursor." — Sussex Advertiser.
" Most cordially do we tender our thanks to Fr. Gasquet for all that he has
accomplished.'' — TTie Reliquary.
" Remarkable ability, skill, patient research, judicious arrangement, and con.
spicuous literary gifts are displayed throughout it."— Freeman's Journal.
" The book is a valuable contribution to church history, and one which throws a
flood of light on the real cause and actual methods and results of Henry VIII.'s high
handed treatment of the English Monasteries." — Standard.
" It is no exaggeration to say that it would have been a national misfortune if
anything had happened to hinder the completion of this book." — Month.
"An admirable work." — American Catholic Review.
" His volumes are well written and well arranged, and, while full of scholarly
matter, are lively and readable." — Saturday Review.
" It is a work of great industry and research with which future historians dealing
with this period will have to reckon." — Literary World.
" A really meritorious work." " It will tend to remove many of our early pre
judices." — English Churchman.
" Father Gasquet has rendered a service to the church in England which will
endure." — Catholic Times.
" One of the best historical books that has appeared during the present half
century." — Edward Peacock.
" We have no hesitation in saying that Father Gasquet's work is far and away
the best that has yet appeared on the subject. . . . We say to the reader, and we say
it confidently, get the book, and read it again and again." — 'Irish Ecclesiastical Record.
" The second and final volume of Mr. Gasquet's great work is before us. We call
it great without hesitation, for the first volume was admitted on all hands to be the
fairest book that had yet been produced concerning the great Tudor revolution." — Notes
and Queries. " We cannot close this brief review of Father Gasquet's second volume without
thanking him for the years of patient industry by which from books and manuscripts,
from archives and authorities hitherto unexplored, he has brought within our reach so
large a body of knowledge." — Dublin Review. Signed, Hf.nry Edward, Cardinal-
Archbishop. " The whole work is an evidence of painstaking and successful labour on the
part of all concerned in its production." — East Anglian.
" We may say in brief, if what we have already said is not sufficient to show it,
that a very important chapter of English history is here treated with a fulness, minute.
ness, and lucidity which will not be found in previous accounts, and we sincerely con.
gratulate Mr. Gasquet on having made such an important contribution to English
historical literature." — Athenaeum.
" He (Mr. Gasquet) has carefully consulted the authorities and quoted them pro
fusely, and the sources from which the greater part of his facts are culled are the best
available." — Morning Post .
" The Reverend Father Gasquet has finished the second volume of his great work
on ' Henry VM. and the English Monasteries." — Municipal World.
" A singularly fair and accurate picture of the manner in which the dissolution
was carried out." — Church Sells.
" We heartily thank Fr. Gasquet for this valuable contribution to English history,
and trust he will make further researches in the same field." — Archaeological Journal.
JOHN HODGES, 25, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, W.C.

From the " Guardian," July \th, 1888.
Henry VIIL and the English Monasteries : an Attempt to
Illustrate the History of their Suppression. By Francis
Aidan Gasquet, Monk of the Order of St. Benedict, some
time Prior of St. Gregory's Monastery, Downside, Bath.
The ruined abbeys of England recall one of the greatest events of our
national history. Upon their grey and crumbling walls still play the sunset
rays of departed feudalism. They are venerable records of a romantic
past, picturesque embodiments of mediaeval piety, vestiges of a once
active agency to which England owes a large portion of her religion, her
learning, and even her material civilization — memorials of an institution
which has enshrined its spirit in a noble literature, which has breathed its
soul into a glorious architecture, and which is consecrated by thousands
of saintly lives spent in its service. The ruins, moreover, stand as silent,
yet eloquent, protests against the uncontrolled despotism of rulers, wit
nesses against an act of spoliation whicli is of ominous precedent. With
that inconsistent homage which Henry's tyranny paid to legality, and with
those formal scruples which marked his most unconstitutional proceed
ings, the King justified the dissolution of the monasteries by a defamation
of the character of his victims. A step which, in part at least, was
actuated by greed, was thus transformed into a necessary and salutary
measure of drastic reform. The plan has proved but too successful. As
Mr. Gasquet says in the volume now before us, " A wholesome horror of
monk or monastery has been imparted with early knowledge at a mother's
knee — the teaching first imbibed and latest lost." But though the true
ground for the dissolution may have been in part rapacity, and though
its alleged ground was the personal character of the inmates of the
monasteries, it would be unfair to ignore the political aspect of the
question, the danger of dividing the kingdom against itself, the pos
sible conflict between the profession and the patriotism of men who
owed allegiance not only to the King of England, but also to
another political and temporal potentate, the Pope of Rome. The
history of the dissolution of the monasteries has been often told by
partial Protestants. If there were no other reason for congratulating Mr.
Gasquet on the completion of his first volume, we should welcome its
appearance from love of fair play and bare justice. Our sympathies are
entirely with the author in his learned, careful, and successful vindication
of the personal character of the monks. But, even assuming that Henry
was largely influenced by the desire to fill his treasury, and without
defending either his rapacity or his subterfuge, it is impossible not to
recognize the difficulty of the King's position. He felt the need of giving
to his actions the respectable sanction of constitutional precedent, but he
feared to rely upon its true justification, lest he might provoke a popular
outburst. He therefore pleaded, what we think Mr. Gasquet has proved
to be, a cruelly false excuse. He took his 'stand not on political necessity,
but on outraged public morality. There must have been thousands of
influential persons who connived at the act of spoliation, because they
saw that it cut an inextricable knot. Naturally enough, Mr. Gasquet
does not take this view of the dissolution of the monasteries ; but we put
it forward, because, unless this aspect of the question is considered, we
rise from the perusal of the volume before us in indignant wonder that
such injustice could have been perpetrated in England upon so transparent
a pretext, even at the height of the Tudor despotism. Mr. Gasquet
appositely quotes the following passage from Burke's " Reflections r,„ tu„

French Revolution : "— " I rather suspect that vices are feigned or exag
gerated when profit is looked for in the punishment. An enemy is a bad
witness, a robber is a worse." The description of the condition of the
monasteries given in the letters and reports of Henry's visitors is bad.
But is it true ? What is the worth of the visitors' word ? This is the
question which Mr. Gasquet proposes to answer. He investigates the
history of the dissolution, utilizes a mass of scattered material, still
unpublished and unconsulted, and treats " the suppression not as an
episode of a greater subject, but as an object of special inquiry." His
sympathies are naturally engaged, but he has striven, and, we may add,
with success, " to avoid anything like presenting or pleading a case,
which, indeed, I felt would defeat my own purpose." The result is that
he has produced the first instalment of a work which promises to be a
really valuable monograph on a great event in our national annals, and
removes from impartial minds a mass of misconception which has
accumulated almost undisturbed for three centuries and a half. Mr.
Gasquet commences with an admirable portrait of the monks of the
sixteenth century, a portrait which in purity of tone and warmth of
colouring admittedly falls below the glowing and exalted ideal conceived
and realized in the days of primitive fervour, but which, equally incon-
testably, rises far above the level of ordinary men. The monastic system
was interwoven into the social, political, and ecclesiastical organization of
the country. The abbots were great noblemen and local magnates : —
As such they went pari passu with baron or earl of the noblest lineage. On the
blazoned Roll of the Lords the Lord Richard Whiting and the Lord Hugh Farringdon
went hand in hand with a Howard and a Talbot. This individual ennoblement indi
cated by the form of a title is striking. Whiting and Farringdon do not walk merely as
the Abbot of Glaston and the Abbot of Reading, but in the roll of English peers they
still hold the name by which they were known when playing as children in the country
manor-house or poor man's cottage. In the letter books of Durham priory the chiefs
of the Cliffords and the Nevilles address the prior as their equal in no mere words of
empty form. If on occasion the layman strikes a higher tone, to which the monk
responds in gentleness, it does not affect the ring of trusty and sincere friendship which
is caught throughout the whole correspondence. Nor is there anything surprising in
this when the character of the monastic life is realized. The monk of Durham from
his earliest years combined simplicity of life with surroundings of palatial grandeur
and a state and ceremony equal to that of courts, and yet more measured. As time
passed on, he grew from obedience to command, and naturally, without perceiving it,
the peasant's son became the equal of the peer. And all this was done without appeal
to principles of democratic levelling. The heralds' "visitations" commence at the
moment when the doom of the monasteries was already fixed. Up to that time the
art of sifting out the " gentleman " from the " no-gentleman," which under the
Tudors and first Stuarts grew to a pitch of perfection, was not yet evolved ; and it may
be safe to say that the monasteries, in ages which, if any, might seem fatal to it, kept
up the idea of personal nobility.
The monasteries formed an element in English social life both popular
and beneficient. Monks —
Had the practice of business, and they were in touch with men of all ranks — the
country gentleman, the yeoman, the artisan, the peasant, and the poor. It is no mere
figure of speech when monasteries are called the common hostelries for the people of all
sorts and conditions, the general refuge of the poor. The daily life of the heads and
officers of every monastic house must have brought them in constant and natural con
tact with all classes of society. The monks were not merely anchorites enclosed in
narrow walls, but were affected by all the movements of public life. They were not
men of war, but, like the knight and the baron, they had to provide men for the
musters. As great landowners they, more than the yeoman, were concerned in the
crops and the weather. They resided on the land in the midst of their people, and the
barns, farmhouses, and cottages were no less objects of their care than the roof which

covered their own heads. Beyond this, they were more than landowners to those round
about them. The advisers and teachers of all, they had the work now undertaken by
the guardian, the relieving officer, the parish doctor, and the schoolmaster. Their
charity did not flow from public sources, yet all men expected them, as an incident of
their profession, to provide for those in want, and they were well acquainted with the
circumstances of those they helped. These conditions combined to ease many of the
difficulties which attend the relief of the poor. " The myth of the ' fine old English
gentleman,' who had a large estate, and provided every day for the poor at his gate,
was realized in the case of the monks, and in their case only."*
Nor did the monasteries fall amid any such shout of general execration
as would have been raised if the catalogue of iniquity contained in the
" Comperta " or " Black Book " of the visitors were true. On the con
trary —
On the part of the secular clergy, who might be supposed to be their natural rivals,
the voice of Bishop Fisher, pre-eminent amongst them all for a love of sound learning
and for piety, was raised as spokesman in their defence. Of the nobility, who after.
wards snared in the plunder, many a one before the event put in a plea for the preserva
tion of the house in which he himself was interested. The popular voice was expressed
in the risings in the east and north, and at a later date in the west. It is only now,
when the documentary history of the time is being revealed, that we begin to under
stand how narrowly these movements escaped a success, which would have changed
the course of English history. The voices raised against the monks were those of
Crumwell's agents, of the cliques of the new men and of his hireling scribes, who
formed a crew of as truculent and filthy libellers as ever disgraced a revolutionary
cause. The later centuries have taken their tale in good faith, but time is showing
that the monasteries, up to the day of their fall, had not forfeited the goodwill, the
veneration, the affection of the English people.
In Mr. Gasquet's skilful hands the dissolution of the monasteries assumes
the proportions of a Greek tragedy. From the first there hangs over the
doomed orders a remorseless power like the Fate of the Sophoclean
drama, in the hands of which the monks struggle unavailingly. Mr.
Gasquet traces its approach from its attack upon the alien priories and
their final suppression till it first laid its hands upon the smaller monas
teries of native growth under the plea of founding colleges and cathedral
churches. The Friars Observant and the Carthusians were the next
victims, and their sufferings are graphically described. Then follow the
Visitation of the Monasteries in 1535-6, and the first Act of Suppression.
From the preamble to the Act of Suppression —
(Which, it must be remembered, is practically all that is known about the measure')
it would seem that Parliament had no written documents placed before it upon which
to form any independent judgment as to the justice of the Act they were asked to pass.
The King, we are told, ma'e a " full declaration " of what Ae knew to be true from.
the reports of the visitors and other sources. Upon this, after a " great deliberation," the
members acted. Whether the report of the visitors in any shape was also submitted to
their examination will probably never be ascertained with certainty. Sanders it is
true, speaks of the "publication of the enormities,"! but this might only refer to the
King s " declaration." Bishop Latimer, who was possibly present in the House of Lords
also says :— " When their enormities were first read in the Parliament House, they were
so great and abominable that there was nothing but down with them but within a
while after the same Abbots were made Bishops for the saving of their pensions."!
The King's knowledge, upon which Parliament acted, was mainly based
upon the accounts of the visitations. What his " other informations may
have been is uncertain;" but there is no evidence that the so-called
" Black Book " was ever presented to Parliament, and none that it ever
* J. S. Brewer. Giraldus Camb., [v., Pref. xxxvi.
t Schism. Lewis's translation, p. 129.
J Two sermons before Ed. VI. Parker Society ed., vol. i., p. i2}.

existed. The " Black Book '' is not mentioned before the reign of Queen
Elizabeth, and the document has completely disappeared. Its details
have been supplied by the conjecture of hostile historians. If any such
statement was ever drawn up it was probably in the nature of an abstract
compiled from the reports of the visitors. We are thus driven back to
these " Comperta " as the final source of the charges against the monks.
It is in dealing with the existing documentary evidence that Mr. Gasquet
is at his best ; but his reasoning rests upon detailed criticism, which is
convincing in its entirety, though it hardly admits of isolated illustration.
He shows that comparatively few of the religious are charged with any
crime ; that the accusations are vague, based upon idle rumour, and not
upon confessions of the accused ; that they are often misleading and
deceptive ; that they are contradicted by Episcopal visitations as well as
by reports of other royal visitors and by subsequent evidence ; and that
in several specific instances they totally fail. These accusations, which in
themselves are thus of little value as evidence, are tainted at the source by
the character and the obvious motives of the witnesses. Of Crumwell,
who was the moving spirit of the movement, Mr. Gasquet says —
No single minister in England ever exercised such extensive authority, noneeverrose
so rapidly, and no one has ever left behind him a name covered with greater infamy
and disgrace. . . . " Thomas Crumwell, the cloth carder " (to give him the style
ordered by Henry VIIL), was regretted by very few in England. He had plundered
and murdered defenceless men and women ; he had endeavoured to rob the religious of
their reputations as he had of their property ; he had defrauded the people of their
rights, and had seized upon the patrimony of the poor ; he had deprived the sick and
aged of their hospitals and places of refuge ; he had driven monks and nuns from their
cloisters, to wander homeless in poverty and disgrace. But his day of reckoning came
at last, and in merited ignominy his career closed.
Crumwell had chosen fit instruments for his work — Legh, Layton, Ap
Rice, and London : —
They were not troubled with scruples of conscience or unnerved by tenderness in
effecting the end their master had in view. "The inquisitors," remarks Fuller, the
historian, " were men who well understood the message they were sent on, and would
not come back without a satisfactory answer to him who sent them, knowing them
selves to be no losers thereby."* They were, and professed themselves to be, com
pletely dependent on Crumwell. That they would not hesitate to serve him and their
own interests, even at the expense of their honesty, is made clear from their own
letters. They were obscene, profligate, and perjured witnesses, men of prurient
mind and depraved nature, servile tools in the hands of their master
Crumwell. Their avowed object was plunder, and the charges made
against the religious were means to attain that end. Mr. Gasquet thus
concludes : —
The character of the men upon whose word the monasteries have been defamed
would in these days be defended by no honest historian. No other evidence is forth-
coming, and it may be fairly asked, in the name of common sense no less than of
sacted justice, that the religious houses may not be condemned on the unsupported
word of such miserable men as Layton, Legh, Ap Rice, and London.
The first volume of the present work clears the ground for the history
of the suppression of the monasteries, which will be narrated in the
second. The story of the dissolution is full of pathetic incidents, which
render it a fascinating subject to inspire a historian who is so well quali
fied for his task as Mr. Gasquet. — The Guardian.
* Hist, ii., p. 214. Dean Hook adopts Fuller's estimate of these tools of Crumwell.

THE CATHOLIC STANDARD LIBRARY.
Demy 8vo., cloth, price 1 2s. each vol.
Henry VIIL and the English Monasteries. An attempt to illus
trate the History of their Suppression, with an Appendix and Maps showing the
situation of thereligious houses at the time of their dissolution. By Francis Aidan
Gassuet, O.S.B. 2 Vols. Fourth Edition, now ready.
The Great Commentary upon the Gospels of Cornelius a Lapide.
Translated and Edited by T. W. Mossman, D.D. Complete in 6 vols.
S.S. Matthew and Mark's Gospel. 3 Vols. Third Edition.
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S. John's Gospel and Epistles. 2 Vols. Second Edition.
A Commentary on the Holy Gospels. In 4 vols. By John Mal-
donatus, S.J. Translated and Edited from the original Latin by George J.
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A Treatise on the Holy Scriptures, Old and New Testament.
By Dr. Franz Kauler. Translated from the German by J. M. Gatrill, M.A.,
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Several others preparing-.
JOHN HODGES, 25, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, W.C.

CATHOLIC STANDARD LIBRARY.

MAITLAND'S DARK AGES.

THE DAEK AGES;

ESSAYS ILLUSTEATING THE

STATE OF RELIGION AND LITERATURE

IN THE NINTH, TENTH, ELEVENTH, AND TWELFTH
CENTURIES.

By S. E. MAITLAKD, D.D., E.E.S., E.S.A.,
SOMETIME LIBRARIAN AND KEEPER OF THE MSS. AT LAMBETH.

New Edition.

With an Inteodtjction by Feedeeick Stokes, M.A.

JOHN HODGES,
HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON.
1889.

If efoes :
South Countihs Press, Limited.

INTRODUCTION.

It is by no means easy for even impartial men to
arrive at clear and accurate knowledge of the social
and mental conditions of peoples and classes living
under different conditions from themselves. Even
a selected body of men like a Royal Commission
often ends by presenting widely different conclusions,
drawn from precisely the same evidence as to the
same facts. The actual condition, for instance, of
the Irish peasantry is a subject of hot dispute among
men of education and intelligence living under the
same laws at the same time. When the class under
consideration differs from its critics, as in the case
of a foreign country, the difficulty is greatly increased.
How many Englishmen are qualified to pronounce
upon the social and economic conditions of Russia,
or China, or, one might even add, of Ireland ?
In truth, the judgments which men form are to a
large extent subjective, and are determined not
merely by evidence which maybe the same for all,
but by training, inclination, prejudice, sometimes
even by heredity. In religious matters an impartial
critic is the exception. The great majority of men
inherit their faith, as they do their physique, from
their parents. Hence it may be assumed as fairly
certain that a Protestant writer dealing with the
Dark Ages — a period when Christendom was Roman
Catholic — will have a tendency to deal out some
thing less than justice. Even if he be fair-minded
_ — and many ultra-Protestant writers are not — there
is the danger of what may be called involuntary
bias. For most men unconsciously set up their own
standards 'of happiness and enlightenment as the
"test by which others are to be judged. Rich men,
as a class, take it for granted that their less favoured
fellow creatures are necessarily miserable. Poor

VI INTRODUCTION.

men too commonly accept the deplorable fallacy
that to be rich is to be happy. The man of the
world regards monastic life as a species of voluntary
penal servitude. The monk, as a rule, assumes that
there is no real happiness or virtue outside the
cloister. Each decides not according to the objec
tive truth of the matter, but more or less conform
ably to his own mental sympathies and tastes.
Perhaps no period of Christianity has been more
misjudged than the Dark Ages — an epoch which, in
the present work, is taken as comprising the ninth,
tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries. The general
tradition when Maitland wrote — a tradition which
has been greatly modified by later historians like
Hallam and Gasquet — was that these ages were
almost wholly barbaric; ages of ignorance, super
stition, oppression, and general misery. Perhaps
writers of the twenty-first century will take a
similar view of the nineteenth, and regard it as a
time when the world was desolated by famine, war,
pestilence ; when the condition of the poor was aa
harsh as it has ever been; when men were subject
to conscription, invasion, misgovernment. The
writers of the first half of this century looked down
with scorn upon the centuries before the Reforma
tion, yet historians like Walpole pronounce an
almost equally severe verdict upon the times when
George the Third was king. The Anglican Church
men of the last century were emphatic in their
denunciations of the abuses of pre-Reformation
times. The general verdict of Churchmen of our
own times as to the state of the Church of England
in the eighteenth century is the reverse of flattering.
It would be easy, indeed, by treating the Anglican
Church in the eighteenth century as many Protes
tant writers— notably Robertson — have treated the
Church of the Middle Ages, to prove that that epoch
was as dark as any century of the Christian era.
And, in judging of any past age, it is necessary
to remember that evil is more conspicuous than

INTRODUCTION. yii
good; that one great criminal attracts more attention
than thousands of men living quiet and virtuous
lives. One year of war furnishes forth more food
for the historian than a decade of peace. Moreover,
it is necessary to remember the Dark Ages were a
time when Roman Catholicism was dominant, while
the writers who formed the existing tradition were
mostly Protestant. It is hardly too much to say
that modern literature, as a whole, is Protestant.
For whatever reason, a species of intellectual
sterility seems to have fallen upon Roman Catholics
within the last two hundred years. For a century
past Roman Catholicism has produced perhaps three
literary men of the first rank — Lamennais, Dollinger,
and Rosmini, — and of these, two were driven out of
the Church, and the third, now dead, has been
condemned by the present Pope.1 To anyone,
however, acquainted with ecclesiastical history, the
wonder will be not that Catholicism has lost the
creative power it possessed in mediaaval times, but
that it continues to exist at all. For a century past
a series of hurricanes have swept upon the Latin
Church, which have reduced her policy to a desper
ate struggle for very existence. Perhaps no Church
since the days of the Roman Empire has endured
— and survived — so tremendous a persecution as
that to which the Gallican Church was subjected at
the close of the eighteenth century. In Italy a
strong anti-Catholic movement, engendered by the
secret societies, has culminated in the absorption of
the Temporal Power, and is now again developing
into a legislative policy, which will still further
weaken and hamper the Italian clergy. In Germany
the Catholics are just emerging from the obligations

1 The condemnation is, however, limited, to some posthumous
works of Rosmini. The great bulk of his writings were examined
and approved by Pius IX. Rosmini is probably the most brilliant
and gifted philosopher that the Church of Rome has produced
since the Reformation.

V111 INTRODUCTION.
of the Falk laws. Everywhere education has passed
out of the hands of the Church. The old universities
are either Protestant or secularized, the primary
schools are passing into the hands of the State.
So complete is the de-Catholization of Europe, that
at the Vatican Council — Rome's last appeal to
the nations — representatives of the Catholic States
were for the first time omitted from the Papal
invitations. As Cardinal Antonelli said in his
despatch to the Nuncio at Paris — " If the Holy See
has not thought fit to invite Catholic princes to the
Council, as it did on other occasions, everyone will
easily understand that this is chiefly to be attributed
to the changed circumstances of the times."
But it is not the Latin Church alone which is
threatened. Christianity itself is menaced. We
are face to face with a new phenomenon in the
intellectual history of Europe — a religion without a
God. Infidelity has developed into materialism, and
materialism propounds to the world a philosophy
which shall explain and solve the mysteries of the
past and the future, which shall guide the thoughts
and wills of men, but in which a Creator has no
place. Man, according to the new Gospel, is a
combination of chemical and physical atoms pro
duced by evolution and dissolved by death. The
moral effects of such a creed, when once established
— and it is spreading daily — cannot but be disastrous.
For without God there is no morality and no
civilization, no joy in the past, no peace in the
present, no hope for the future. Let us eat and
drink, for to-morrow we die, and death is the end
of all things.
And this modern materialism comes upon us
not as other religious movements have done with
blare of trumpet and beat of drum, rather it
steals upon men's minds like some poisonous
malaria begotten of polluted river or unwholesome
marsh, asphyxiating the conscience and corroding
the intellect, so that men find that faith is dead

INTRODUCTION. jx
before they were conscious that it was in danger.
Moreover, the germ of it is in every man's heart,
from the theologian watching with perplexed spirit
the perennial waves of human folly and misery, to the
peasant sullenly gazing at his empty platter and
fireless grate, and its spread is helped and farthered
by the social and economic miseries of the times.
More and more the great landlords and labour-lords
are eating up the people as men eat bread, and
grinding the faces of the poor. More and more the
wealth of Europe, scanty in proportion to the needs
and numbers of her population, is being garnered
into the cellars of the banker and the safes of the
usurer. More and more money is used not to
satisfy the legitimate needs of humanity, but as
coins in a vast system of public gambling, as bait for
the unwary, as the minister of a luxury, upon which
Caligula might have looked with envious eye.
The Dark Ages had their miseries, too. Since,
the Garden of Eden was closed to our first parents,
happiness has not been the lot of any considerable
community for any considerable time. The corrup
tion, seemingly incurable, of human nature and the
malice of the unseen enemies of our race have
always and everywhere proved too strong to be
overcome by any creed or constitution. But, on the
other hand, these ages had many advantages which
we do not enjoy. They were ages in which Christian
faith was what a recent writer has called a " vivid
dynamic reality." Whatever may be thought of
the Crusades — and more than one great authority
has held that they resulted in great political advan
tage to Europe — they were one of the most splendid
displays of faith and manhood that the world has
ever witnessed, except, perhaps, the earlier develop
ments of Mahommedanism. Christ must have been
believed in in those days when half the manhood
of Europe was willing to undergo indescribable
hardship and peril to rescue only " the grave made
with the rich," and there was far more theological

INTRODUCTION.

liberty. The Church was indeed a monarchy under
the headship of Rome, but the Papacy was not the
centralized authority into which Ultramontanism
has developed it — a Power claiming absolute and
immediate authority over the life and conscience of
every human being on the face of the earth, not to
mention the realms of Purgatory. The Episcopate
was still a living authority, with power and capacity
to rule and judge. The assembling of Provincial and
General Councils was an ordinary feature of eccle
siastical government. The great theological schools
were full of activity and intellectual life. It was
during the very ages which moderns call dark that
Christianity was formulated and systematized into
its present shape. St. Thomas of Aquin, whose
Summa has dominated the Latin Church for six
centuries, did but reap where the earlier scholastics
had sown. Moreover, the influence of the scholastics
is not confined to the Roman Communion. In so
far as Protestantism has a positive side, it owes it
to the scholastics. The reformers pruned away
much of mediaeval Catholicism, but they added
nothing of their own except the doctrine of
justification by faith — one of the most dangerous
delusions that Christianity has seen. The funda
mental dogmas of the Trinity and the Incarnation
of heaven and hell, of the immortality of the soul
and the resurrection of the body, are held by the
Reformed Churches in the same sense, almost in the
same terms, as by the Roman Church, and although
the later Jesuit writers have somewhat modernized
and developed the scholastic methods, the approved
theology in the Catholic Schools at the present day
is substantially the same as in the Dark Ages.
Rome is still moored to the Summa, which the
present Pope has once again publicly approved and
recommended to his clergy, and the Summa was
but the codification and systematization of the work
of the theological writers of the Dark Ages.
Nor were the early writers during these times so

INTRODUCTION.

ignorant as is commonly supposed. They knew
little of natural science, though an accurate theory
about the glacial period is of much less practical
importance than correct views of another period to
come of a higher temperature. No man who is
really grounded in the truths of Christianity can be
truly said to be ignorant, and the practical teaching
which the early writers of the Dark Ages obtained
from the pulpit and the confessional was of far
more real intellectual and moral value than the
farrago of scraps of grammar and elementary
arithmetic imparted to an unwilling generation in
Board Schools and such like. " This," said Christ,
" is life eternal to know Thee, the only true God,
and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent " (John
xvii. 3), and this knowledge the men of the Dark
Ages had in a degree which we, who live in times
when the Church is traversing the vast desert which
separates the devout faith of the past from the
baptised science of the future, can hardly realize.
For the poison of unbelief has affected even the
Churches. Many of those who regard themselves
as orthodox do not really believe, do not get beyond
a nominal acceptance of Christian dogmas. The
spectacle which Europe has witnessed for a whole
generation of a Catholic people like the Italians,
living in avowed indifference to a succession of
Papal anathemas, would have been as impossible
in the Middle Ages as an interdict would be now.
Much of the so-called morality of the present day is
on a par with that of the estimable burglar who
never stole what he did not want. Among the
Reformed Churches, with the exception of the
Catholic party in the Church of England, the spirit
of asceticism is almost dead. Fasting, specifically
named by Christ as a means of sanctification, has
fallen into general disuse. It would perhaps savouf
too much of justification by works.
Lastly, the Dark Ages were distinguished for the
vigour and success with which the mission work or

INTRODUCTION.

the Church was carried on. During the ninth
century, Christianity, says Dean Milman (Lat. Chris.
Vol. III. c. viii.), " was gathering in nations of
converts." The Bulgarians were won to the Gospel
by Cyril and Methodius, and one of the first steps
taken by the new Church was to submit a list of no
less than 106 questions to Pope Nicholas I. Some
of the Papal decisions indicate that at Rome at least
the standard of morals was by no means a
barbarous one. No violence was to be used to
those who adhered to Paganism. Torture, with the
object of obtaining evidence, was strictly forbidden,
as Was also polygamy. The same century witnessed
the conversion of Moravia and Bohemia, and the
despatch of missionaries to Scandinavia, where the
work of conversion begun by Anschar (who was
created Archbishop of Hamburg) was carried on for
a century and a half, until, in the reign of Canute,
who wore the English and Danish crowns, the task
was completed by a band of English missionaries
sent by the king, During the tenth, eleventh, and
twelfth centuries, the Normans, Magyars, and a
multitude of formidable tribes were won to Chris
tianity, and the havoc wrought in Christendom by
the ravages of these pitiless invaders before their
conversion were repaired. Nor was this period
intellectually barren. " The Church," says Milman,
" did nofc entirely rely on fixing the infamy of
heretical doctrine upon the more daring reasoners.
She reasoned herself by her sons with equal vigour,
if with more submissiveness, sounded with her
antagonists the depths of metaphysical inquiry,
examined the inexhaustible processes of human
thought and language, till gradually the gigantic
bulwark • of scholastic theology rose around the
Catholic doctrine." (Lat. Ch. Bk. VIII. c. v.)
And Milman was a writer who cannot be suspected
of any undue leaning towards Romanism.
It is much to be regretted that there are com
paratively so few authentic records of the period

INTRODUCTION. xiii
from 800 to 1200. There were no newspapers, no
printed books, no Royal Commissions, or Parlia
mentary debates (if these last can be really regarded
as sources of information). Men worked, and
fought, and argued, and preached, and died, leaving
no other record than a tombstone. Hence a large
part of the criticism of the Dark Ages is too often
mere generalization and declamation, representing
rather the prejudice of the writer than the verdict
of the scholar.
Perhaps the safest way to arrive at a just
judgment of the Dark Ages will be to study some
of the actual changes wrought in the condition of
Europe during this epoch. Voltaire's traveller,
wrecked, as he supposed, upon a desert island, was
cheered by the sight of a gallows — to him a con
vincing proof that he was in a civilized country.
In a less cynical spirit the student of history may
see what actual modification of the condition of men
was effected during the historic period under con
sideration. The age during which Westminster
Abbey was built cannot have been architecturally
blank. The men who built up the scholastic
philosophy cannot have been wholly indifferent to
learning and culture. The men who died in myriads
on the plains of Syria to rescue the Holy Sepulchre
can hardly have been devoid of love of Him who
was laid there.
At the beginning of the ninth century the founda
tions of modern Europe had been laid. Three
centuries earlier the Western Empire had perished
before the incursions of the barbarians, and during
the interval between the fall of the older Western
Empire and its restoration under Charlemagne, the
history of Europe had been an almost unbroken
record of war, destruction, and ravage. The marvel
is not that Christianity should have been wanting in
enlightenment, but that the Christian Church
survived those terrible centuries when Europe was
thrown into the crucible. In the ninth century,

XIV INTRODUCTION.
however, the storm of anarchy and ravage had
begun to abate. The genius of Charlemagne had
united under a single sceptre the whole Western
part of Continental Europe, including what is now
France, Germany, Northern Italy, and the Western
part of Austria. England, heretofore split up into
several small kingdoms, founded by the Angles and
Saxons, and for the most part engaged in constant
warfare, was united by Egbert in a single kingdom.
Here, as on the Continent, the ages preceding the
date which Maitland takes as the beginning of the
Dark Ages — a.d. 800 — had been times of invasion,
ravage, and conquest. There can be no doubt that
the condition of England at the end of the eighth
century was far inferior in wealth and civilization to
the state in which it had been left at the withdrawal
of the Roman eagles. Almost every vestige of
civilization had perished under the attacks of the
Teutonic invaders. The work of founding a polity
and a civilization had to be recommenced, and this
is one of the salient facts to be borne in mind in
judging of the Dark Ages. The men of those ages
had to recreate the political and social world.
They had to rebuild almost from the foundation.
Not quite; for Christianity, the basis of European
civilization, had not only survived the storms of the
age of invasion, but had to a large extent converted
the barbarians themselves. In Spain, indeed, the
Moors were master from Gibraltar to the Pyrenees,
but, throughout the rest of Western Europe, Chris
tianity was dominant. To take our own country.
When the Dark Ages began, the Heptarchy was
still standing ; when it closed, the conquest of
Ireland had begun. During the interval England
had been welded into a single kingdom, and the
main outlines of that Constitution, which has
survived in its chief features down to our own days,
had been formed. The Universities of Oxford and
Cambridge had been founded. A code of laws was
drawn up by Alfred the Great, and subsequently

. INTRODUCTION. XV
revised by Edward the Confessor — the last English
king who obtained the honour of canonization. The
Irish schools had a high reputation for learning and
piety. These are only a few examples of the rapid
and solid progress of Christendom during the Dark
Ages. Others will be found recorded in Maitland's work,
although the author's object may be said to be
critical rather than constructive, for Maitland was
one of those in whom the critical faculty existed
in its highest perfection, and his ecclesiastical
position enabled him to deal impartially with both
sides of his subject.

One of the points upon which there is a strong
contrast between our own times and the Dark Ages
is the greater degree of individualism in the latter.
We live in an age of machinery. Government is
carried on by Parliaments, ballots, caucuses — all
machinery. We travel by machinery and fight by
machinery. In the Dark Ages it was not so. It
was a time when men were governed by men. The
work that would nowadays be the platform of a
party was accomplished then by princes, such as
St. Louis of France, whom Hallam describes as
" perhaps the most eminent pattern of unswerving
probity and Christian strictness of conscience that
ever held the sceptre in any country." (" Middle
Ages," Vol. I., p. 40, 5th ed.) Whether the
majority of men were better off under personal rule
and simple civilization is a debatable question. It
is doubtful whether any more terrible example of
wide-spread suffering took place anywhere in the
Dark Ages than the Irish famine of 1848. It is
doubtful whether any population during the Dark
Ages lived in more bitter and hopeless misery than
do the sweated workers of East London. Civiliza
tion has done much for the few, but it is question-

XVI INTRODUCTION.

able whether it has really benefited the many.
Shelter, food, and clothing are the three great bodily
wants of men, and the poorer classes in olden times
were at least as well supplied with these in the
Dark Ages as they are now. They had no votes,
nor third class carriages, nor cheap newspapers, but
they lived for the most part in the open country,
not penned together like swine in huge cities. They
had at least fresh air, and pure water, and healthful
environment, which is more than can be said of the
bulk of our city populations nowadays. Nor was
their ignorance so deep as is commonly supposed.
In those days faith was a vivid reality, and the
confessional and the services of the Church in them
selves constituted an education in that which is the
most important of all knowledge — the knowledge
how to live ; — and die.
On the whole, one is tempted to believe that the
Dark Ages were not so very dark, nor our own
times so very full of light as some of the authors
criticized by Maitland would have us believe. Men
lived simpler and rougher lives, but it does not
follow that they led less happy ones. It is doubtful
whether the influences of the nineteenth century do
not tend to degrade men rather than to elevate
them. " The individual withers, and the State is
more and more." There is scant opportunity for
prayer and repose in the restless, commonplace age
in which we live. The whole atmosphere of the
times is fatal to that spirit of faith which is the
motive power of all real progress.
FREDERICK STOKES.
London, July 4, 1889.

PREFACE TO THE
FIKST EDITION.

Neaely eight years have elapsed since the first of
the following essays was printed ; and they have all
been more than five years before the public. I wish
the reader to be aware of this, not only because it
may account for some references to matters which
occurred during the period of their publication, but
because it will show that some things which may
wear that appearance, are not in reality allusions to
more recent occurrences.
My purpose in these essays, I stated very fully at
the outset ; and the collateral objects which I had in
view, I mentioned as occasion offered. I need not,
therefore, here tell the reader over again what I
meant in writing them ; but I do not like that this
reprint should issue without a few words of distinct
statement as to what I did not mean. It is possible
that I may have been misunderstood; though I
think that no one who fairly and candidly reads
these essays can imagine that I designed to hold
up to imitation what has, since I wrote them, been
much talked of as " the mediasval system." As to
some superstitions and heresies, and a thousand
puerilities, which seem likely to creep into the
Church under that name, I do not feel it necessary
to say anything. I have never, I hope, written a
line which the most ingenious perversion could

2 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
construe into a recommendation or even a toleration
of them. But there is one great feature of the
mediaeval system of which I feel, and of which I
have spoken, very differently, and in terms which
may have been, though I can hardly think that they
really have been, misunderstood.
It is quite impossible to touch the subject of
Monasticism without rubbing off some of the dirt
which has been heaped upon it. It is impossible
to get even a superficial knowledge of the mediaeval
history of Europe, without seeing how greatly the
world of that period was indebted to the Monastic
Orders ; and feeling that, whether they were good
or bad in other matters, Monasteries were beyond
all price in those days of misrule and turbulence, as
places where (it may be imperfectly, yet better than
elsewhere) God was worshipped — as a quiet and
religious refuge for helpless infancy and old age, a
shelter of respectful sympathy for the orphan
maiden and the desolate widow — as central points
whence agriculture was to spread over bleak hills,
and barren downs, and marshy plains, and deal
bread to millions perishing with hunger and its
pestilential train — as repositories of the learning
which then was, and well-springs for the learning
which was to be — as nurseries of art and science,
giving the stimulus, the means, and the reward to
invention, and aggregating around them every head
that could devise, and every hand that could
execute — as the nucleus of the city which in after-
days of pride should crown its palaces and bulwarks
with the towering cross of its cathedral.
This I think no man can deny. I believe it is
true, and 1 love to think of it. I hope that I see
the good hand of God in it, and the visible trace
of His mercy that is over all His works. But if it
is only a dream, however grateful, I shall be glad
to be awakened from it ; not indeed by the yelling
of illiterate agitators, but by a quiet and" sober
proof that I have misunderstood the matter. In

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 3
the meantime, let me thankfully believe that
thousands of the persons at whom Robertson, and
Jortin, and other such very miserable second-hand
writers, have sneered, were men of enlarged minds,
purified affections, and holy lives — 'that they were
justly reverenced by men — and, above all, favour
ably accepted by God, and distinguished by the
highest honour which He vouchsafes to those whom
He has called into existence, that of being the
channels of His love and mercy to their fellow-
creatures. But admitting all this, does it form any reason
why we should endeavour to revive the monastic
system in the present day, and in this country?
This is a thing which has been very seriously pro
posed, and for which much that is specious may be
said, without any violation of truth or fairness.
But is it a proposition which should be listened to ?
Is it, in fact, one that can be carried into effect ?
Many others have, I suppose, as well as myself,
received a circular letter, bearing no name, but
supposed to emanate from persons entitled to
respect,1 and headed " Revival of monastic and
conventual institutions on a plan adapted to the
exigencies of the reformed Catholic Church in Eng
land." After a brief statement of what are considered as
the objects, the means, and the constitution, the
writer proceeds to say, "It is hoped and earnestly
requested that the friends of primitive piety, order,
and simplicity, into whose hands this paper may
1 [It certainly was on this supposition that I wrote the obser
vations in the text. The truth is that a mistake arose from an
erroneous judgment respecting the handwriting of a document. I
do not mean to insinuate, for I really do not believe, that any
deception was intended. Neither do I pretend to say from what
quarter the letters did emanate. Having, however, been led by
the mistake to say what I did, and seeing no reason for retracting
it, I let the observations remain, not without an impressijn that
some things which have happened since they were published, may
have tended to manifest their truth. — Note to Third Ed.~]

4 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
fall, will contribute their thoughts and endeavours
towards expanding these hints, and devising some
method of bringing them to a practical issue." No
channel for the contribution of thoughts is, how
ever, pointed out : but, for the reason which I have
already stated, I wish to say something on the
subject ; and I will take the opportunity of offering
some which have occurred to me ; and I venture to
hope, that, being fully convinced that the sugges
tion cannot be brought to any good " practical
issue," I may be allowed to say so plainly, and
without offence. I have no wish to dogmatize on
the subject, but on the other hand, I know not how
to speak of it with doubt or hesitation, and there
fore wish to say, as decidedly as may be lawful, that
the " monastic and conventual system " never can
be adapted to meet the present exigencies of the
Church of England ; and that any attempt to revive
that system in this time and country, can only prove
a sad and mischievous failure.
When I say this, I do not mean to dispute that it
would be easy to make a plan and raise money for the
building, and even for the endowment, of a monastery
and to settle all the details on paper ; or to deny that
a sufficient number of very good men might be found
to inhabit it, on such terms as those who might have
the settling of the matter would venture to propose.
A few such institutions might, we may believe, be
founded,and carried onfor alonger or ashorter period.
There is such variety in the minds and feelings of men,
that such a scheme (indeed any scheme that had so
much of both antiquity and novelty to recommend it)
would immediately find supporters enough to keep it
up for some little time, and a fresh supply of others
to keep it up for some little time longer.
But even this must be done by " adaptation," as will
be seen by the heading of the letter which I have
quoted; or according to the language used in the body
of that document, the proposal is for the " Revival
of the Monastic and Conventual System in a form

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 5
suited to the genius, character, and exigencies of the
Church of England." But really this is (to use plain
terms, which I hope will not offend, for I know of
no others to express my meaning) mere playing at
monkery; if not quite like children playing at soldiers,
yet something not much beyond the customary show
and service of our rural militia. Anything like real
monasticism,anythingfor which the use of such terms
as " The Monastic and Conventual System " is not
a most unwarrantable and delusive usurpation, any
thing really calculated to produce its advantages,
such as they were, or even such of them as are wanted
or could be desired, in these days — an attempt to
revive anything that can fairly be called the Monastic
and Conventual System, on a scale of any magnitude
and permanence, must, I think, fail, for want of one
great thing — that thing on which, by the Divine
appointment, it flourished, while it did flourish, as
truly as man lives by the air he breathes — namely, that
concurrence of men's minds which forming what is
called the Spirit of the Age wants, desires, imagines,
carries forward its own schemes, irresistibly bears
down opposition, creates, protects, uses, and then,
in its progress neglects, disowns, and tramples down
its old institutions, and knows no use in their ruins
but to furnish quarries or foundations for new ones.
It seems to me that we can no more revive the
Monastic System than the Feudal System. We
cannot recall the days of ancient republicanism, or
mediaeval chivalry. The French republic was tragic
enough; but who does not feel, — who, except the
lowest and weakest of the wretches whom it was
meant to impose on, did not feel at the time, — that
all its archaism was purely farcical? Why could
not the French have what Greece and Rome had
had, if they liked ? Simply for the same reason that
it could not be dealt with as a matter of solemn
propriety, if the Duke of Wellington should go down
to the house in complete armour, or if Julius Caesar
should tread the stage in a field-marshal's uniform.

6 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
And why cannot we have tournaments as our fore
fathers had ? Why was the attempt to hold one, a
few years ago, so laughed at that the experiment has
not been repeated ? Why is that ridiculous now,
which was honourable and almost sacred four
hundred years ago? Why may not our nobles
amuse themselves as their ancestors did, without
being laughed at ? I am not expressing any wish
for the revival of such a pastime ; but merely asking
why the attempt to revive it is considered as actually
absurd, and whether it is because the thing itself is
so very much less dignified and worthy of great men,
and so very much more ridiculous in itself than a
horse-race, a fox-hunt, or a steeple-chase.
I shall be told that the state of society is so different.
I know it. It is just what I am saying. Why it
should differ, and differ in that particular way, are
questions not so easily answered. Nor is it my
present business to attempt any answer to them. It
is more to the purpose to offer one or two reasons
for believing, that the altered state of society renders
the revival of monasticism altogether impracticable.
Do what he may, no man can strip himself of the
circumstances, and concomitants, which it has pleased
God to place around him. He may say, "I will be a
monk;" and he may call himself, and get others to
call him by the name ; but if he says, " I will be a
monk of the fourth century," or " a monk of the
twelfth century," we can only assure him that he is
mistaken, that the thing is impossible, and that if he is
a monk at all nowadays, it must be of the nineteenth
century. I am not speaking of either one of those
centuries as better or worse than the others, but only
mean that whatever character he may assume, he
must take it in his own circumstances. They may
be friendly or hostile ; and, as it relates to the case
now under consideration, they may be in the Church
or in the world; in Christians or infidels; in others,
whoever and whatever they may be, or in himself,
such as he is naturally, or such as he has been made

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 7
by education and habit : and nothing can be more
clear than that any1 man, whether young or old,
whether lay or clerical, a nobleman or tradesman, a
soldier or sailor, a peasant or mechanic, a man rich
or poor, single or married, who is now living in
England, is, both as to externals, and as to the
modification of himself, in very different circum
stances from those in which he could have been
placed, had he lived in the same character and station
in the fourth or in the twelfth century. And for the
English monk of the nineteenth century, there seem
to be some peculiar obstacles. They may exist, and
in some degree, more or less, they certainly do exist,
in some other parts of Christendom, but they are
particularly obvious and powerful in this country.
In the first place, consider how completely, and by
what means, the monastic system has been put down
in England. There is no need to enter into the
matter of motives or proofs. The fact, which is all
that we want, is, that popular indignation and hatred
of the .bitterest kind was excited, and has been
studiously kept up, and that for centuries the
general notion in this country has been that a
monastery naturally, almost necessarily, is a place
dedicated to idleness, gluttony, lewdness, hypocrisy,
political intrigue, fraud, treachery, and blood; so
that, as a matter of course, a nun is to be supposed
something as bad as can be, and a monk no better.
Now, certainly, no candid man will deny, that before
the period of the Reformation, the monastic system
in the Western Church had got into a very bad
state. Too many monasteries were really societies
of dissolute men ; and a vast many more had so far
departed from their bounden discipline that there
was nothing to restrain the vicious. That is, the
monks lived in them under scarcely, if any, more
control from vice than fellows of colleges do now.
That under these circumstances, in a dissolute age,
a great number of monks became profane and
debauched, and a great many more secular and

8 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
careless of religion, is not to be doubted ; but that
there ever was truth in the coarse and filthy abuse
heaped upon the monastic order as a body by some
who were forward in the business of the Reforma
tion, is what I suppose never was believed by anyone
who had a moderate knowledge of facts. The truth
perhaps is, and it is such as should satisfy all but
the infidel and profane, that if we take any period
whatever in the history of Christianity, and compare
the morals of the monks and clergy with those of
the laity, we shall find that, however bad the former
might be, the latter were worse. In fact, it appears
to be the testimony of history, that the monks and
clergy, whether bad or good in themselves, were in
all times and places better than other people.
Be this as it may, however, the point with which
we are concerned is, that this odium, just or unjust,
does exist, and would form an obstacle to the revival
of monastic institutions in this country. There are,
perhaps, some lively young men who would reply,
" We should like it all the better. We should enjoy
being persecuted, especially as nobody would venture
to harm us in life, or limb, or property, to burn us
up as the Danes did, or sell us up as Henry VIII.
did, or hang us up as Elizabeth did; and we should
go about with shaved crowns and rope-girdles, and
people would look at us, and come to hear us intone
from our lecterns." Of this, one can only say, that
in such hands the matter would soon be laughed out
of countenance. But others, who deserve more
respectful consideration, may tell us that we are
not to truckle to the spirit of the age, but to do
that which is right. That is plain enough, and I
trust that no one will imagine that I am recom
mending a servile obsequiousness to popular notions
and feelings. Of course we are not to shrink from
duties, to compromise principles, to adopt or
renounce doctrines or practices in mere compliment
to the irreligious— but there is no need to repeat
the string of truisms which are not only obvious to

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 9
common sense, and instinctively felt by common
honesty, but which must be familiar to most
readers, as being perpetually in the mouths of those
who are conscious that they are proposing or prac
tising what the great body of the Church may deem
eccentric or absurd.
But these truisms are inapplicable to the matter
in hand, which involves no fulfilment or breach of
any law human or divine. And in such a case it is
a matter of wisdom and duty, and, practically
speaking, of absolute necessity, to take into account
the state of thought and feeling in which the great
body of the Church has been brought up and exists.
If any man is fully satisfied that there is a divine
command, or a human law, by which he is bound to
build a monastery and carry on monasticism, let
him pursue his convictions, without troubling him
self about the consequences. Or if he thinks that,
though there may have been no command on the sub
ject, yet, having developed itself, monasticism must
be an essential and permanent part of the divine dis
pensation, I should not wish to discuss what appears
to me so entirely unreasonable, and so incapable of
being even approached in argument without the
settlement of many previous questions. But those
who believe with me that different states of society
may render specific institutions, forming no part of
the Church, though more or less connected with it,
useful at one time, noxious at another, and incapable
of existence at a third, I would beg to consider one
or two features of the present time, as compared
with the middle ages.
In the first place, as it regards vows of any kind.
I do not know whether, among the advocates for
the revival of Monasticism, there are any who would
maintain them ; but in the letter to which I have
alluded they are fairly abandoned. In the adapted
form there are to be " no vows ; but a solemn
declaration and engagement of obedience to the
Superior, and of compliance with the rules of the

10 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
Institution during residence." But this seems to
be in fact giving up the whole thing. Surely no
one who has at all considered the system of Monas
ticism, can doubt that the vow of perpetual self-
dedication was the very root of the matter. The
reserved power of change, even if encumbered with
difficulties, would alter the whole thing. The
monastic vow necessarily operates in two ways.
First, in making all but the most thoughtless care
ful how they enter upon such a mode of life ; and
secondly, by making those who have taken it con
tented with a condition which they know to be
unalterable, and in which, whatever other schemes
of life may occur to their imagination as brighter
than their own, they remain peacefully and cheer
fully, because that very circumstance of perpetual
obligation has given it somewhat the character of a
divine dispensation. It is very well for political
agitators, and makers of fancy tales, to tell us of
raging monks and pining nuns, gnawing the chains
of their spiritual bondage, because they were either
in love commonly so called, or in love with the
vanities of the world, — as if such persons, with very
few exceptions, would not fairly run, away, vow or
no vow — but it is no part of human nature to be
rendered permanently unhappy by unalterable dis
pensations. Generally men and women are satisfied
with the sex, and the stature, assigned to them,
and do not think of making themselves miserable
about the circumstances of native country, parent
age, or anything else which, they know, cannot be
altered. But the matter may be illustrated by a case in
which a vow of perpetual obligation remains among
us in the present day. No one can doubt that it
would make a difference scarcely to be imagined if
the marriage vow, instead of being perpetual and
irrevocable, were only a " solemn declaration " that
the parties would conduct themselves properly so
long as they should see fit to continue man and

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 11
wife. I do not mean merely that many unhappy
marriages would be dissolved, and many unequally-
yoked persons set at liberty, for it would certainly
operate something far beyond this, and of quite a
different nature. Thousands who are now living
happily together, and who, if they ever thought of
such a thing as separation, would consider it one of
the greatest evils that could happen to them, would
become unsettled, would be led to speculate, and
tempted to experiment ; the possibility would be pre
sent to their own minds, or perpetually suggested by
others ; a cross word or an angry look would be fol
lowed by divorce, and a state of things would follow,
plainly showing that if the name of marriage was re
tained, its nature was changed, and its chief benefits
were lost. I am not saying that the monastic vow
was a good thing, or that those who took it did
right ; but, that without it the system could not
have existed ; and also, that without it neither the
system, nor anything really like it, can be now
established. But there are, moreover, two particulars in the
character assumed by the vow in question, which
are strongly against its revival in the present age.
In the early days of monasticism, a person self-
devoted by a vow to a life of celibacy was on that
account looked up to with respect. But the vow,
which was then in itself a ground of reverence,
would in the present day expose any men or women
who should be known to have taken it, to the
suspicion, or the remonstrance, or the ridicule, not
merely of the frivolous and thoughtless, but of nine
out of ten of those whom they were brought up to
love and honour, and to whom they were bound by
every tie of affection and respect. And it must surely
make some difference in the working of a system,
whether those who adopt it become objects of esteem
and veneration, or of contempt and suspicion.
There may be those who would answer as before,
that persecution from anybody would be delight-

12 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
ful ; but, beside other reasons for taking courage,
we may comfort ourselves with the hope that they
are not sufficiently numerous to fill more than one
or two monasteries at the utmost, and that only for
a very little while.
For let us just look at another point — the monas
tic vow was one of obedience ; and in the proposed
adaptation there are to be "no vows; but a solemn
declaration and engagement of obedience to the
Superior, and of compliance with the rules of the
Institution during residence." But what are we to
understand by " obedience to the Superior " in this
revived monastic system ? Is it, for instance, to be
such as the Rule of St. Benedict required ? The
reader may see what that was in a following page.2
2 See p. 190. No. 60. — The original of it is "Prseceptis Abbatis
in omnibus obedire, etiam si ipse aliter (quod absit) agat memores
illud Doininicum prseceptum, Quae dicunt, facite : quse autem
faciunt, facere nolite." — Cap. iv. There is, indeed, in this .Rule
such a plain statement of the doctrine of passive obedience and
non-resistance as would appear perfectly ridiculous in the present
day. What would those who talk most about obedience say to
such passages as these : "Primus humilitatis gradus, est obedi-
entia sine mora. Ha?c convenit his, qui nihil sibi a Christo carius
aliquid existimant propter servitium sanctum quod professi sunt,
seu propter metum gehennse, vel gloriam vitEe seternas ; mox ut
aliquid imperatum a majore fuerit, ac si divinitus imperetur, moram
pati nesciunt infaciendo." . . . "Sed hasc ipsa obedientia tunc
acceptabilis erit Deo, et dulcis hominibus, si, quod jubetur, non
trepide, non tarde, non tepide, aut cum murmure, vel cumresponso
nolentis efficiatur : quia obedientia quce majoribus prcebetur, Deo
exhibetur."— Cap. v. And this was to extend, not merely to
things specifically mentioned in statutes or Acts of Parliament, nor
yet merely to things reasonable in themselves, but to such things
as were grievous, and even impossible. The lxviii. chapter is
headed " Si fratri impossibilia injungantur ;" and it is as follows :
" Sicui fratri aliqua forte gravia aut impossibilia injunguntur ;
suscipiat quidem jubentis imperium, cum omni mansuetudine et
obedientia. Quod si omnino virium suarum mensuram viderit
pondus oneris excedere ; impossibilitatis su» causas ei, qui sibi
praest, patienter et opportune suggerat, non superbiendo aut
resistendo vel contradicendo. Quod si post suggestionem suam
in sua sententia Prioris imperium perduraverit, sciat junior ita
sibi expedire, et ex caritate confidens de adjutorio Dei, obediat."
Nor was this obedience to be confined to the Abbot : " Obedientise

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 13
Nothing of that sort, I suppose, can be intended in
this enlightened country; and I am led by the
disputes which I have heard for many years past
respecting canonical obedience to our Bishops, to
doubt whether the talk of obedience has any real
meaning. I am afraid that in the present day
nothing will give such a Superior power, except law
or money ; and that only the latter will procure for
him anything which can properly be called obedience.
In the former of these cases, where power is given
by law, the obedience will be rendered to the law,
and in no sense whatever to the Superior. If he
has an Act of Parliament hanging in his cell, con
stituting and appointing him Ruler over certain
persons named in the schedule A annexed, accord
ing to certain regulations set out in schedule B
annexed, those certain persons must obey (whether
him, or the law, is perhaps of no great consequence)
so far as the law goes ; but beyond that the
Superior has no power. On the other hand, some
thing further may perhaps be procured for him in
the way of obedience, by money. I do not mean
what lawyers call " monies numbered," paid down
in pence by the Superior to the monks for capping
him, or doing what he bids; but money's worth,
provided by the expense of money. There may
be endowments such as will (according to the
familiar phrase) make it worth men's while — worth
the while of men nursed up in sensitive independ-
bonum non solum Abbati exhibendum est ab omnibus : sed etiam
sibi invicem ita obediant fratres, scientes se per hanc obedientise
viam ituros ad Deum. ... Si quis autem Prater pro quavis
minima causa ab Abbate, vel a quocumque Priore suo corripiatur
quolibet modo ; vel si leviter senserit animum Prioris cujuscumque
contra se iratum, vel commotum, quamvis modice ; mox sine mora
tamdiu prostratus in terra ante pedes ejus jaceat satisfaciens, usque
dum benedictione sanetur ilia commotio." — Cap. lxxi. I do not
know whether it is proposed to revive anything like this ; but
without it, how could the monasteries of the dark ages have been
what they were ? In fact, what did they become as this spirit of
submission, now lost in that of jealous independence, was gradually
subsiding 1

14 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
ence — to put up, at least for a time, with the
degradation and annoyance of submission ; or it
may give a lift in society, smooth the way to holy
orders, or more probably to a sectarian ministry;
or it may hold out various other advantages which
it is easy to imagine. But whatever they may be,
the obedience thus purchased will be of little value,
and the mode by which it is obtained will consider
ably qualify the nature of the society. It must, I
suppose, consist chiefly of those to whom such
advantages are an object ; perhaps entirely, for men
of higher motives may not like that sort of constant
association, and close fellowship, with the sordid and
scheming. There is, I repeat, a want of power; a want
which it is in the present day impossible to meet by
any legitimate and reasonable means. How is it
attempted in the plan to which I have so repeatedly
alluded ? The author of it seems to have been
conscious that the Superior would be in rather a
helpless predicament, and to have thought that as
he could not be magnified, he should be multiplied.
1 am afraid I shall hardly be believed, when I say
that under the head of " Visitation," we are told
that the proposed monasteries are to be visited,
" monthly by the Parochial Minister, quarterly by
the Rural Dean, half-yearly by the Archdeacon,
yearly by the Bishop." I fear there would be
<c many masters." Will the reader be so good as
to imagine monasteries in the parish, rural deanery,
archdeaconry, and diocese, in which he lives and
some three or four others which he may happen to
know — to consider the probabilities — and charitably
keep them to himself ?
But let us look at the matter on a broader scale.
It must be obvious to everyone who has reflected on
the subject, that the progress of modern society —
particularly English society — has been most deci
dedly against the possibility of reviving any institu
tion in which men should live together in common.

PEEFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 15
The way of living in this country has long been
receding more and more from anything like coeno-
bitic life ; and has been characterized by an increas
ing tendency to independence, individualization,
and (to use the words in a mild sense) the dissocia
tion and disconnection of men. It will be' remem
bered that I am not speaking of parties political or
religious, or of joint-stock companies, but of the
habits of domestic life. How will these prepare
men for the Refectory? There is now no such
thing as " the Meeting of Gallants at the Ordinarye,"
although such common tables " were long the
universal resort of gentlemen;"3 and indeed of all
classes of society in England, as they still are in
other countries of Europe. But the most striking
illustration is furnished by the principal clubs which
have been instituted in London within about twenty
years. Most of them have some distinguishing
character ; the Athenaeum, for instance, as a literary
club, the Carlton a political one, and in some others
the name is a sufficient indication, as the United
Service, the Junior United Service, the Travellers',
the United University, the Oxford and Cambridge,
the Reform. We may in all these cases imagine
some degree of sympathy and congruity among the
members of each club. At least, we may safely say,
what is still more to our purpose, than an immense
majority of members have at some time or other
been used to eat what are significantly called
" commons," in the hall of a College, or an Inn of
Court, or at a Naval or Military mess-table. And
8 I borrow these words from Nares, who places the word
Ordinary in his Glossary with some apology on account of its not
having quite fallen into actual disuse. Perhaps every year since
his book was published has given it a greater right to be included
among the " words, phrases, and names " which, as his title page
states, " have been thought to require illustration." It means, he
tells us, " A public dinner, where each person pays his share. The
word, in this sense, is certainly not obsolete ; but it is here inserted
for the sake of observing, that ordinaries were long the universal
resort of gentlemen, particularly in the reign of James I."

16 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
yet I am informed that in only one of the institu
tions which I have mentioned is there anything in
the nature of a table dhote; and that in that one it
is only a recent experiment, of which it still remains
to be seen whether it will succeed, or whether, like
similar attempts in other clubs, it must be aban
doned. So totally different is the usual course of
things, that half a dozen gentlemen, it may be, are
sitting together until the moment at which each
has put down his name to dine on a particular joint ;
when it is ready, they go into another room, separate
to six different tables, and the ambulatory joint
seeks them out in their independent establishments,
while each is not supposed to know of even the
existence of the other five. Perhaps it would not
be too much to say that, in the clubs which I have
named, nearly a hundred thousand dinners (to say
nothing of other meals) are annually served ; and
to add, that though eaten (as it regards each club)
in the same room, and in company, yet nine out of
ten are single, not to say solitary meals.*
I am not finding fault with this. I shall pro
bably be told that it is much the best way ; that it
does not arise from any want of good feeling, but
that it is found to be, on the whole, much more
pleasant, — "you are more independent." I really
do not mean to contradict this, or to argue about
the comparative merits of the present, and any
former, system. I am only stating a fact, and that
only as an illustration ; but I say that such a fact,
4 I do not know how far it might be right to consider the
details of any one of the Institutions which I have named, as form
ing a ground for precise calculation respecting the others. But
nothing of that sort is here required; and though (as - 1 suspect)
the following statement may exhibit proportions in a trifling
degree more favourable to my argument, than would be furnished
from some of the clubs which I have named, yet I think it will
show the reader that I have not on the whole exaggerated. In
the month of June, 1843, the number of dinners served at the
Athenseum was 1,457, of which all but 36 were single. Of the
latter, 30 were served to two persons, five to three, and one to
four.

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 17
or its cause, whatever that may be, is something
much in the way of any attempt to revive coenobitic
life. And if the habits in which the present genera
tion have been educated, have drifted them so far
away from the refectory, is it worth while to waste
a word about the dormitory ? I will, therefore,
here only ask the reader to reflect on these two very
important points, and to draw out, for his own
consideration, the details respecting them; unless
indeed he should feel that he cannot do that until
he knows from what class of society, or whether
from all classes indiscriminately, the monks are to
be taken ; and on this point I am not at present
able to give him any satisfactory information, being
extremely puzzled about it myself.
I hope I have conviuced the reader that whether
the revival of Monasticism be practicable or im
practicable, good or bad, I am no advocate for it ;
and having said perhaps more than enough to vindi
cate myself from the suspicion of any such design
in the following Essays, will he indulge me in the
further egotism of saying a very few words about
the Essays themselves ? They were originally
published in the " British Magazine," between the
months of March, 1835, and February, 1838. They
were written at the request of my most dear, and
honoured, and deeply-lamented friend, the Rev.
Hugh James Rose, who was then, as he had been
from its beginning, the editor of that work. After
receiving the first, he wrote to me that he should
" fully rely on a perennial, or, rather, permensal
supply." I mention this, because, under the im
pression which it created, I was anxious that,
throughout the whole series, whenever a paper
appeared, another should be sent in time for the
next number. In fact, the first thirteen were
printed with no intermission ; and though of course
1 do not mean that I had each month to begin the
collection of materials de novo, yet the arrangement
of raw materials is a work which takes some time
o

18 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
and trouble, generally more than one expects, and
which if it is hurried is likely to be ill-done. Some
of the papers were written under disadvantages
from want of health and leisure, and all without
the help which many books, not within my reach at
Gloucester, would have afforded. But chiefly they
were written under that great disadvantage of
anxiety to furnish a certain quantity, and only a
certain quantity, by a given time, and therefore
feeling obliged to select, and abridge, and condense,
and cut up, and piece together, and omit, and copy
over again hastily, and, in shprt, do all the things
which were likely to present unfavourably, materials
which I was sure were interesting in themselves.
Such circumstances impress an indelible character
on a work, which no subsequent labour can remove ;
but the reader may view it with more indulgence if
he considers it as belonging to essays written under
the disadvantages which I have described, and pub
lished in the pages of a monthly periodical work. I
need scarcely add that, though printed much more
accurately than I could have expected, such a mode
of publishing such materials, of a great part of
which I had no opportunity of correcting the press,
ensured many typographical errors. Some, I fear,
must have escaped, but I hope that the greater part
are corrected.

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE
THIRD EDITION.

These Essays have been again reprinted with very
slight alteration. The little additions made in the
two more recent editions, in the form of Notes, may
be had separately by those who have the First
edition.

THE DARK AGES.

No. I.
" I know nothing of those ages which knew nothing."
I eeally forget to which of two eminent wits this
saying belongs; but I have often thought that I
should have liked to ask him how he came to know
so curious and important a fact respecting ages of
which he knew nothing. Was it merely by hear
say ?
Everybody allows, however, that they were darle
ages. Certainly; but what do we mean by dark
ness ? Is not the term, as it is generally used, com
parative ? Suppose I were to say that I am writing
" in a little dark room," would you understand me
to mean that I could not see the paper before me ?
Or if I should say that I was writing " on a dark
day," would you think I meant that the sun had not
risen by noon ? Well, then, let me beg you to
remember this, when you and I use the term, dark
ages. lam sorry to waste time about words; but
it is so important that people should fully under
stand one another, and the sooner the better, that I
must just notice another point. Do we always
clearly know what we should understand — or,
indeed, what we mean to express — when we hear or
talk of the dark ages ? Do we mean ages which
were dark in themselves, and with respect to those
who lived in them ? Or, do we mean that they are

22 MISREPRESENTATIONS [NO. I.
dark to us, and that it is very difficult for us to
form a clear idea of them? I suppose that we
sometimes mean one and sometimes the other, and
very frequently both — and, in fact, both are true ;
but it is better not to confound the two ideas, which
are in themselves perfectly distinct.
Many causes — of some of which I hope to speak
hereafter — have concurred to render those ages very
dark to us ; but, for the present, I feel it sufficient
to remind the reader, that darkness is quite a dif
ferent thing from shutting the eyes ; and that we
have no right to complain that we can see but little
until we have used due diligence to see what
we can.
As to the other point — that is, as to the degree
of darkness in which those ages were really involved,
and as to the mode and degree in which it affected
those who lived in them, I must express my belief,
that it has been a good deal exaggerated. There is
no doubt that those who lived in what are generally
called the " middle " or the " dark " ages, knew
nothing of many things which are familiar to us,
and which we deem essential to our comfort, and
almost to our existence ; but still I doubt whether,
even in this point of view, they were so entirely
dark as some would have us suppose. I dare say
you have observed, that, in a certain state of twi
light, as soon as you have lighted only a taper in
your chamber, it seems quite dark out of doors.
Yet, perhaps, you have only just come into the
house out of that which, if not broad day-light, was
nevertheless such good serviceable twilight as that,
while you were in it, you never once thought of
darkness, or of losing your way, or not being able
to see what you were about ; yet, I say, as soon as
ever you lighted, were it only a rushlight, in your
chamber, all the look-out was darkness. Were you
ever so misled as to open the window, and tell the
people in the road that they would certainly lose
their way, and break their shins — nay, even to con-

no. i.J in Robertson's chaeles v. 23
dole with, or triumph over, those inevitable con
sequences of their wandering about in pitch-dark
ness ? I very much doubt it ; if you had attempted
it, I feel quite confident that, if from being at a loss
for an exordium, or for any other reason, you had
been obliged to wait with your head out at window
until your eyes had recovered from the glare of
your own little candle, you would have seen that
there was some light abroad — you would have begun
to distinguish houses, and highways, and sober
people going about their business in a way which
showed that they could see enough for common pur
poses — and you would have held your tongue and
drawn in your head, rather pleased that you had
not exposed yourself.
Certain it is that we are lighted up, and every
man who struts about in our gas light can see that
it is dark out of doors; and, to bring him to any
thing like a right understanding of the case — not to
prove to him that it is as light out of doors as in,
for I beg the reader not to suspect me of any such
folly — to bring him, I say, to a right understanding
of the case, he must put his head out, and keep it
out for some time. " What then," says the reader,
"are we to do ? Can he mean that one is to wade
through all the stuff that was written in the middle
ages ? " Certainly not ; for, in the first place, a
good deal of it (and, I suspect, much of what would
be most interesting) is not known to be in existence.
I say known, because who can take upon himself to
say what is extant ? A good deal has been printed ;
and, as to MSS., we know that there are a good
many unpublished in the British Museum, the
Bodleian, and other libraries of our kingdom; and
I suppose that everybody who has the privilege of
using those collections, or the King of France's, and
a thousand others, can find out specifically what
manuscripts they contain. Some, I suppose, know
what is in the Vatican, and in other of the less open
libraries ; but who knows what may be lurking up

24 misrepresentations [no. I.
and down Christendom ? Who knows what was
hastily swept together when the libraries of sup
pressed monasteries, in some of the less frequented
parts of Europe, were accumulated in large col
lections, without, perhaps, a full investigation of
some of their less obvious and intelligible contents ?
Perhaps I underrate the pains that may have been
bestowed on them ; but the idea has been strongly
impressed on my mind since I was, some time ago,
in the midst of a collection drawn from such sources,
in which the manuscripts alone amounted to sixty
thousand. I cannot help thinking that a more
thorough investigation of such collections may one
day bring to light much that is not supposed to
exist. But I am running on too fast ; and all that
was necessary was to assure the reader that, so far
from requiring him to read all the works which
were written in those ages, I by no means require
him to read one-half of such of them as have been
printed since; but by putting your head into the
darkness, good reader, I do mean that you must, in
some degree, make yourself acquainted with the
original writers of the period. I have heard of a
traveller at an inn, who wished to look out and see
if it was day ; and who returned to bed with a very
wrong judgment on the matter, owing to his being
in the dark himself, whereby he was led to open the
glass door of a cupboard, instead of a window ; and
I must say, that, in trusting to the representations
of some popular writers, you will be doing much
the same thing.
This is a strong assertion ; and it is one which I
would not make if I were not fully prepared to
defend it by sufficient examples, which I hope to
give in subsequent papers. And, now I think of it,
the reader may, perhaps, desire some account of
my plan : and I shall be very glad to take the
opportunity of assuring him that I have no plan
whatsoever — that I do most absolutely and entirely
disclaim everything of the sort— and that I would

no. i.] in Robertson's charles v. 25
rather put this very pen into the. fire, than under
take to draw out a plan and keep to it in such a
matter as this must needs be. I wish this to be
understood at the outset, that the reader may not
charge me with digressing — a thing to which I am
exceedingly prone, whenever restriction makes it
practicable. For, to say the truth, I have seldom
taken much trouble to find any one thing, that I was
not rewarded by finding at least two or three which
I was not looking for ; and I cannot help digressing
myself, and wishing to carry the reader along with
me, when anything turns up which interests me,
and which I think may amuse or instruct others.
But while I thus disclaim all plan, let me say,
that I do not write without purpose; and this
purpose I wish to be fully understood. It is to
furnish some materials towards forming a right
judgment of the real state of learning, knowledge,
and literature during the dark ages. The period
which I have more particularly in view is that
extending from a.d. 800 to a.d. 1200 ; and to this
period I wish the reader to apply any general state
ment or remark which I may offer respecting the
dark or middle ages. At the same time, I do not
consider myself as restricted to that precise period,
or precluded from adducing proofs or illustrations
which may be somewhat more ancient or modern.
The subject I have endeavoured to state in terms as
comprehensive as possible, by saying, " learning,
knowledge, and literature;" for I did not know how
else to include the variety of miscellaneous matter
into which it is my purpose to inquire, or which,
having incidentally met with it in such inquiries,
has appeared to me worthy of notice. It will not,
however, be understood that I am pretending to
write a literary history of that period. All that I
propose in these papers is, to bring forward some
facts illustrative of the points already mentioned.
For this reason a great part of the inquiry will, of
course, turn on books ,- and I consider nothing

26 MISREPRESENTATIONS [no. I'
relating to them as foreign to my purpose, which
includes any notices that may throw light upon
their number, value, and materials — the means
employed by proprietors, librarians, and scribes for
their multiplication, correction, embellishment, and
preservation — any hints tending to show what books
were most in request — any notices of the love of
books, or of the sale, loan, or gift of them — of the
means employed to qualify or cause people to read
them — anything in the shape of catalogues of
libraries, or collections of books, during that period.
This looks so fine now I have put it on paper,
that I must again beg the reader to understand that
I am as far as possible from pretending to give a
full account of these matters ; but I think that by
bringing together and offering to notice some hints
which lie scattered in various writers of those times,
I may — I do not say enable him to form, but — assist
him in forming an estimate of the learning, know
ledge, and literature of the dark ages ; and on this
point I will only add, that though he may probably
find (and if so, I hope pardon) some errors and
mistakes, yet he may rely on my never intention
ally copying a reference — that is, whenever I give
a reference he will understand (unless the contrary
is stated) that I copy immediately from the book to
which I refer. Those who have had any practice in
verifying quotations will know what I mean, and I
believe that they will have found reason to join me
in wishing that all authors, great and small, would
do the same.
It must be obvious to everyone who has any
acquaintance whatever with the subject, that the
learning respecting which I inquire was chiefly
sacred or ecclesiastical — this, I say, is obvious as a
matter of fact ; but I wish it to be distinctly under
stood, that it is particularly with a view to such
learning that I now offer these desultory notices to
the public. My object is to inquire what know
ledge, and what means of knowledge, the Christian

no. i.J in Robertson's charles v. 27
Church actually had during the dark ages, and what
was, in fact, the real state of the Church on these
points during that period. All which does not
directly tend to this is purely incidental, and is
admitted with a view to another object in which I
feel deeply interested — the promotion of the study
of ecclesiastical history.
There is no difficulty in knowing where to begin,
for before we can think of building, we must clear
away the rubbish — or, to recur to the figure which
I have already used, before we can possibly look out
of the window, we must open the shutters ; for, if
we only go to " windows that exclude the light,"
we might as well keep our eyes shut. I feel it
necessary to do this, because statements extremely
false have been handed about from one popular
writer to another, and it is quite impossible to form
any correct opinion on the subject without knowing
that they are false. At the same time I cannot
persuade myself to begin the business without
begging the reader not to consider me as the
advocate of ignorance, superstition, and error — not
to suppose that I wish to hold up the dark ages as
golden ages — not to think that I undervalue the
real improvements which have been made in learn
ing and science. I do not want to maintain any
such silly paradox ; but I do want to contradict
falsehood, and to bate down exaggeration into at
least something like truth. Indeed, I cannot help
wishing that the reader who has formed his idea of
the dark ages only from some modern popular
writers — I do not mean those who have written
professedly on the subject — could be at once fairly
thrown back into the midst of them. I cannot help
thinking that he would feel very much as I did the
first time that I found myself in a foreign country.
A thousand novelties attracted my attention ; many
were strange, and some displeasing ; and there was
more or less that seemed foreign in everything.
For this I was prepared ; but I was not prepared

28 MISREPRESENTATIONS [NO. I.
for another feeling which very soon, and quite un
expectedly, sprung up in my mind — " How much is
different, and, go where I may, for ever changing !
True ; but how much is the same everywhere ! "
It was almost a surprise to me to find that the sun
and moon went on much the same way as at home
¦ — that there were roads, and rivers, and fields, and
woods, and towns, and cities, and streets, and
houses filled with people who might, perhaps, talk
some other language, and dress in some other
fashion from mine, but who had evidently much the
same notions as to the necessaries of life, and the
substantial of society ; and, without losing all my
pride, or patriotism, or prejudice, I got a new idea
of the unity of nature. I felt that He had " made
of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all
the face of the earth " — it brought with it a kind
of home-feeling — a sense that, wherever I wandered,
I was but moving in the hollow of His hand among
my own brethren.
Well, and these old folks of the dark ages were
our grandfathers and grandmothers ; and, in a good
many points, vastly like ourselves, though we may
not at first see the resemblance in the few smoky
family pictures which have come down to us ; but
had they "not eyes?" had they "not hands,
organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions —
fed with the same food, hurt with the same
weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed
by the same means, warmed and cooled by the
same winter and summer " as we are ? " Yes ;
but they knew nothing." Well, then, it is
strange to think how they could do and say so
much as they did without any knowledge. But
you do not mean quite nothing — you will allow
that they knew the Pater-noster and Gredo, and that
is .something— nay, a good deal, in itself, and the
pledge of a great deal more.

N0- n.J in Robertson's charles v. 29

No. II.
" ' Amongst so many Bishops,' says Pleury, ' there was not one
critic, who knew how to discern true from false Eecords' —
Critic ! quoth he. It is well if there was one amongst them
who could write his own name." — Joetin.
I have said, that the state of things during the
dark ages has been misrepresented by some popular
writers; and also that, in making that charge, I did
not mean to reflect on those who had professedly
written on those times. Indeed, as far as I know,
the opinions of men in general on the subject are
less frequently formed from these writers, than
from those who, having obtained popularity on some
other grounds, treat incidentally of the subject, or
here and there give a passing sneer to the dark
ages. Few books have been more popular, or more
generally read by thousands who never thought of
asking for authorities, than Robertson's " History
of Charles the Fifth;" and, perhaps, I cannot do
better than take some proofs and illustrations of
what I have said from that work. Some remarks
on his statements may not only tend to obviate
those prejudices which have been raised by him,
and by other writers, but may also furnish a sort of
introduction absolutely required by those who have
not given any attention to the subject.
In his " View of the Progress of Society," pre
fixed to his History, Robertson says : —
" Literature, science, taste, were words scarce in use during the
ages we are contemplating ; or if they occur at any time, eminence
in them is ascribed to persons and productions so contemptible
that it appears their true import was little understood. Persons
of the highest rank, and in the most eminent stations could not
read or write. Many of the clergy did not understand the Bre
viary which they were obliged daily to recite ; some of them could
scarce read.it." — (Vol. i. p. 18.)

30 misrepresentations [no. II.
On this statement Robertson adds a note, con
taining " proofs and illustrations ; " but, before I
come to it, let me observe by the way, that he is
professedly speaking of the period " from the seventh
to the eleventh century; " and, that unless we under
stand him to mean " from the seventh " to quite
the end of the " eleventh century," it is not
wonderful that the clergy did not understand the
" Breviary," or true that they were obliged to recite
it ; for it did not exist. The fact is, indeed, un
important : because the question is, not whether
there was, at that period, a book called the " Bre
viary," but whether, supposing there were such a
book, the clergy could have read it, or anything
else. I notice the matter, however, as one of the
proofs which Robertson gives that he was not very
familiar with a subject on which he ventured to
speak in very broad and general terms, but evidently
without scrupulous exactness. The note, however,
begins in the following manner : —
" Innumerable proofs of this might be produced. Many charters
granted by persons of the highest rank are preserved, from which
it appears that they could not subscribe their name. It was usual
for persons who could not write, to make the sign of the cross in
confirmation of a charter. Several of these remain, where kings
and persons of great eminence affix signum crucis manu propria
pro ignoratione hterarum. Du Cange, voc. Crux, vol. iii. p. 1191.
From tins is derived the phrase of signing instead of subscribing
a paper. In the ninth century, Herbaud Comes Palatii though
supreme judge of the empire by virtue of his office, could not
subscribe his name. Nouveau Traite de Diplomatique par deux
Benedictins, 4to. torn. ii. p. 422."— Note X. p. 232.
It is extremely difficult to meet broad general
assertions which it is, in the nature of things, im
possible to disprove ; but we may reasonably call
for evidence of their truth, and, if it is not produced,
we may be allowed to doubt and to dispute them.
It many charters " are preserved in which " kings
and persons of great eminence" avow their ignor-

no. ii.] in Robertson's charles v. 31
ance, surely many might be, and, I think, would
have been, produced. The ignorance of the dark
ages has long been a matter of triumphant retro
spect ; and such regal curiosities of literature or
illiterature, would have been highly interesting to
an enlightened public. Perhaps, indeed, " many "
instances have been adduced ; but I do not re
member to have seen, or specifically heard of, more
than four. One of them is, I believe, less commonly
known ; but the other three have been repeatedly
paraded in declamations on this subject.
First — Withred, King of Kent, who reigned from
a.d. 671 to a.d. 725, and one of whose charters is
subscribed " Ego Withredus Rex Cantise omnia
supra scripta confirmavi, atque a me dictata propria
manu signum Sanctae Crucis pro ignorantia littera-
rum expressi."
Secondly — Tassilo, Duke of Bavaria, in the eighth
century, subscribed a charter containing a grant to
Atto, abbot of Saltzburg, " quod manu propria, ut
potui, characteres chirographi inchoando depinxi
coram judicibus atque optimatibus meis. Signum
manus meaa propriee Tassilonis," etc.
Thirdly — ¦Heribaud, Comte du Palais under Lewis
IL, subscribed a charter in a.d. 873, "Signum
Heribaldi Comitis Sacri Palatii, qui ibi fui et
propter ignorantiam litterarum, signum sanctaa
crucis feci."1
Fourthly — The authors of the " Nouveau Traite
de Diplomatique" after arguing against those who
considered such ignorance as incredible, say,
" L' usage d'avouer pareille ignorance est atteste

1 These three instances were given by Mabillon (De Re Diplom.
p. 163, 544), and were thence transferred to vol. ii. (not iii.) of
the Benedictine edition of Du Cange. I write here with reference
to the statement of Robertson ; for the reader will observe, that
two out of the three cases are earlier than the period which I have
specified— that is, a.d. 800—1200.

32 MISREPRESENTATIONS [NO. II.
par tant de traits historiques, que toutes les
chicanes de Tesprit humain ne pourront en obscurcir
Teclat. II suffira d'en rappeler quelques uns dans
les notes." In a note on this passage they exhibit
poor Withred " Roi de Cantorberi," and the
" Comte du Palais," already mentioned, and add
the case of Gui Guerra, Count of Tuscany, who
was reduced to the same necessity, " quia scribere
nesciebat." " II seroit superflu," say they, " d'ac-
cumuler un plus grand nombre de faits, pour verifier
un usage, dont la certitude est demontree."2
To me it appears that three or four instances, oc
curring between the eighth and twelfth centuries,
are so far from demonstrating the certainty of a
custom, that they do not prove that anything which
can properly be called a custom existed; unless,
indeed, these writers meant (as perhaps their
language elsewhere might almost incline us to
believe) that these instances prove the usage of
kings and great men, when they could not write,
to state that fact on the face of the instrument.
There is, however, no need to pursue this point ;
for, of course, I do not mean to deny that there
was, in those days, a much greater ignorance of
writing than in ours, and that men of rank were much
more frequently unable to write then than they are
now. But when Robertson talks of " innumerable
proofs," and tells us that "many" charters are pre
served, from which " it appears " that such persons
could not sign their names, I feel it right to question
his statement. Had he seen the original charters ?
I very much doubt it. If he had seen them, would
it have enabled him to decide the point ? I am sure
that it would not ; and I feel this certainty, not only
because I do not give him credit for so much
research in re diplomatica as that he should bring

Tom. ii. p. 426.

no. n/f in Robertson's chaeles v. 33
forward " innumerable proofs " when Mabillon, and
Toustain, and Tassin, gave only four between them,
but from the very nature of the case. The fact
that a man's name was subscribed to a document by
another, was, in those days, no proof that he could
not have done it himself ; and though, in the present
day, we should hardly give anyone credit for beino-
able to write if we found that he had only made his
mark, yet we must not entirely judge of other ages
by our own.
Mabillon has given and discussed four reasons
why charters were frequently signed by proxy : —
(1.) The inability of the parties to write; which
was, of course, a very common reason, and may
well be supposed, upon the great scale, to have been
the most frequent. Under this head he gives the
well-known story of Theodoric, and the three cases
first mentioned above. (2.) Physical inability,
arising from blindness, disease, or old age ; as in
the case of Eugenius, at the council of Constanti
nople, in the year 536, who subscribed by the hand
of Paul, a deacon of his monastery, <»? firj Swdfievo?
Bia to <yr)pa<;;s of St. Omer, whose will was subscribed
— " Hasc abocellis feci, et alius manum meam tenens
scripsit et subscripsit ; " and of some others whom
he mentions. (3.) An affectation of dignity, through
which many high official persons chose that their
names should be written by the notary. (4.) What
is most to our purpose, a custom growing out of
this, and extending so far as that by the eleventh
century it had become almost universal. In imita
tion of their superiors, almost all persons — all at
least who could pretend to any kind of distinction
or title — preferred having their names written by
the notary (who could say of them what it might
have seemed ostentatious to say of themselves), and
then adding, or sometimes omitting to add, their
Cone. To^JZ^p.436. D

34 misrepresentations [no. II.
mark — that is, the sign of the cross made with their
own hands. It will be obvious, therefore, that it
does not "appear" in all cases, even from the
original document, whether the parties could write
their names. Indeed, if it did not suppose an
almost incredible degree of ignorance, one would
be tempted to think that Heribaud's affixing the
sign of the cross, " pro ignoratione litterarum,"
had led Robertson to infer, that all persons who
made the sign of the cross on such occasions did it
for the same reasons ; for he says, it was usual "for
persons who could not write to make the sign of the
cross in confirmation of a charter.'' No doubt ; but
it was also usual for those who could write. The
sign of the cross was, in fact, " the confirmation and
the signature "4 and the subscriber, in thus making

4 Take, by way of specimen, the subscription to the will of
Hagano, Canon of St. Martin's at Tours in a.d. 819 : — " Hagano
diaconus cessionem a me factam sub signum Sancte Crucis con-
firmavi." — (Martene, Thesaurus Novus Anecdotorum, vol. i. p. 23.)
(And here let me say, by the way, that as I hope to make frequent
reference to this work, as well as to the " Veterum Scriptorum et
Monumentorum Amplissima Collectio," edited by Martene and
Durand, I shall be glad to be allowed, for brevity's sake, to refer
to the former as "Mart.," and the latter as " M. & D") A
charter, too, of Robert, Abbot of St. Martin's in the same city,
and of the year 897, is subscribed " Robertas Comes et inclyta)
congregationis S. Martini Abbas, per hoc signum Sanctae Crucis
subterfirmare studuit." (Mart. i. 57.) Or, to take a subscription
belonging to our own country, which may, at the same time, be a
specimen of notarial eloquence :— " Anno Incarnationis Dominican
nongentesimo sexagesimo sexto scripta est hujus privilegii syn-
grapha, his testibus consentientibus, quorum inferius nomina
ordinatim charaxantur ; " and then follow the subscriptions—
" Ego, Edgar, divina largiente gratia, Anglorum Basileus, hoc
privilegii donum nostro largiens Redemptori locoque ejus sanc-
tissimo, primus omnium regum, monachorum inibi collegium con-
stituens, manu propria signum hagice cruets imprimens confirmavi—
Ego, Dunstan, Dorobernensis ecclesia? archiepiscopus, largifiuam
benevoli Regis donationem venerans, crucis signaculo corroborant—
?f°' E^1lMDlm> clytos legitimus prsefati Alius, crucis signaculum,
mfantuh florens astate, propria indidi manu— Ego Edward, eodem
rege clyto procreatus, prafatam patris munificentiam crucis signo

no. 11.] in Robertson's charles v. 35
the sign of his holy religion, was considered as
taking an oath. He was, in fact, said manu jurare ;5
and, for greater solemnity, the cross was sometimes
made with the consecrated wine.6 The subscriber's
adding his name was no essential part of the con
firmation, but simply a declaration and notification
that the person, whose name was there written, was
he who had thus bound himself by his signature. If he
was unable, or if he did not choose, to do the writing
for himself, it was done for him by the notary.
I beg the reader not to suppose that I wish
to do more than to moderate the extravagance
of Robertson's statement, and to show that he
made it without sufficient grounds. Does he not, in
fact, show this himself when he proceeds to say —
" So late as the fourteenth century, Du Guesclin, Constable of
Prance, the greatest man in the state, and one of the greatest
men of his age, could neither read nor write. St. Palaye Memoires
sur l'ancienne Chevalerie, t. ii. p. 82."
Well, then surely two instances in the eighth
century, one in the ninth, and one in the twelfth, of
men of rank who could not write — it does not appear,
and really does not follow, that they could not read
— form too slender a ground for such broad asser
tions as Robertson has ventured to make respecting
the state of letters.
consoUdavi — Ego JElfihryth, legitima prsefati regis conjux, mea
legatione monachos eodem loco rege annuente constituens, crucem
impressi — Ego Eadgifa prsedicti regis ava hoc opus egregium
crucis thaumate consoUdavi ; " and Athelwold, Bishop of Win
chester, says, " crucis signaculo benedixi." (Cone. torn. ix. 673.)
6 " Comes Tolosanus hanc eandem donationem ibi deveniens
rogatu nostro corroboravit, firmavit, manuque propria juravit, id
est, subscription crucis." — (Du Cange in v. Crux.)
6 " Interdum quo solemnius ac firmius esset pactum, quod
scribebatur, cruces ipsse exarabantur calamo in pretioso Christi
sanguine intincto." (Du Cange, ibid.) See also Odo Aribertus
(cited by Baluze in his notes on Agobard, p. 129), who says,
" Pace itaque cum sanguine eucharistico separatim per Regem et
Comitem firmata et obsignata," etc.

36 MISREPRESENTATIONS [NO. II.
Having, however, disposed of the laity, he pro
ceeds : —
" Nor was this ignorance confined to laymen ; the greater part of
the clergy was not many degrees superior to them in science.
Many dignified ecclesiastics could not subscribe the canons of
those councils in which they sat as members. Nouv. Traite de
Diplom., torn. ii. p. 424."
If the reader turns to the authority cited, he will
find some general statements respecting the igno
rance of the laity as to writing (with no specific
instances, however, except those already named),
but no mention of ecclesiastics. It is true, that, in
the succeeding pages, the bishops and other ecclesi
astical persons are mentioned, and several are
named in a note at page 426 ; but Robertson should
have observed, what is there so plainly stated, " Tous
ces exemples sont anterieurs au VII6 Siecle." I do
not say that later instances might not be produced ;
but I do not remember to have seen any. He
proceeds : — •
" One of the questions appointed by the canons to be put to
persons who were candidates for orders was this, ' Whether they
could read the Gospels and Epistles, and explain the sense of
them, at least literally ? ' Regino Prumiensis ap. Bruck. Hist.
Philos. v. iii. p. 631."
I am sorry to say that I have not the Abbot of
Prum's book; and I must, therefore, answer as well
as I can without it ; and perhaps some reader who
has it, or who is so happy as to have access to a
public library, will be kind enough to give me an
extract, or some information as to the specific canon
to which Robertson (or rather Brucker) refers. In
the meantime I must observe —
First, that supposing all which Robertson meant
to convey to the reader were true, still such a
canon would show that, bad as things were, there
was some attempt to mend them. Granting that
up to about the year 900, when Regino wrote, all

no. n.] in Robertson's chaeles v. 37
bishops, priests, and deacons had been entirely
ignorant and illiterate — granting that these very
canons were written by those who could not write,
for the use of those who could not read, still they
would be a standing proof that the heads of the
church did, at that time, require even from candi
dates for orders, what Robertson would lead us to
consider as rather an unusual accomplishment in a
bishop. Secondly, though I have not Regino's book, I
have Brucker's, from whence Robertson professes
to borrow the quotation ; but, on turning to it, I
find a very important difference. The reader will
observe that the question, even as Robertson gives
it, is, in fact, whether the candidate could read
Latin publicly, and explain the meaning ; but,
beside this, the inquiry was really essentially
different. It was not whether the candidate had
learned to read, nor even whether he could read
Latin ; but whether he could read Latin well. The
words, as quoted by Brucker, are — " Si Evange
lium et Epistolam bene legere possit, atque saltim
ad literam sensus ejus manifestare. Item, si
sermonem S. Athanasii de fide SS. Trinitatis
memoriter teneat, et sensum ejus intelligat, et
verbis communibus enuntiare sciat." Surely there
was no proof of brutal ignorance in inquiring
whether a candidate for holy orders could read
Latin well in public — could repeat, understand, and
explain the Athanasian Creed, and preach the doc
trine contained in it, in the vernacular tongue.
The question did not imply the slightest doubt
whether the man could read ; but only directed an
inquiry whether he could do that which many a
man of the present day, who has chuckled over the
ignorance of the dark ages, could not do.
Thirdly, if my object were merely to answer
Robertson, I should think that I had said enough
on this point; but having a farther and more

38 STATE OP LEARNING [NO. II.
important design, let me, without at present enter
ing very fully into the subject, give a few extracts
from " the canons," and one or two writers of the
dark ages, or at least of the period to which
Robertson refers.
Isidore, Archbishop of Seville, who lived until
the year 636, in his work on Ecclesiastical Offices,
has a chapter of rules for the clergy, in which he
says, that they should be "continually occupied
in teaching, in reading, in psalms, and hymns, and
spiritual songs ;"7 which seems to imply, at least,
that in his time it was no uncommon thing for the
clergy to be able to read.
At the eighth council of Toledo, held in a.d. 653,
regret was expressed that persons had been ad
mitted into holy orders who were altogether in
competent to the discharge of clerical duties ; and
it was expressly provided, that no one should be
admitted to any degree of ecclesiastical dignity
unless he knew the whole Psalter, the hymns of
the church, and the office for baptism; and that
those who had been admitted without such neces
sary knowledge should forthwith set to work to
acquire it, or be made to do so by their superiors.
" For," says the canon, " it is absurd that they
who are ignorant of the law of Cod, and not at
least moderately learned, should be promoted to
any degree of orders, or ecclesiastical office, in
which it is their business to teach simple and lay
persons, to whom they ought to be mirrors of life
and discipline. Let no one, then, who is unlearned,
approach to meddle with the holy mysteries of
God8 . . . none who is blinded by the darkness
of ignorance ; but let him only come who is adorned
with innocence of life and splendour of learning.
Otherwise the vengeance of God, and of His church,

7 Bib. Pat. x. 203.
8 There is apparently some hiatus in the MSS.

NO. II.] AMONG THE CLERGY. 39
will hereafter fall on both the ordainers and the
ordained." 9
Whether the council of Nantes, to which the fol
lowing canon belongs, was held in the year 658, or
more than two centuries after, has been disputed ;
but, either way, it falls within Robertson's period,
and is in itself worth notice : — " When a bishop
purposes to hold an ordination, all those who are
candidates for holy orders are to be cited to the
city on the Wednesday preceding, together with the
archpresbyters, who are to present them. And
then the bishop is to appoint priests and other
prudent men, skilled in the divine law, and con
versant with the ecclesiastical sanctions, who shall
diligently inquire as to the life, family, country,
age, and education of the candidates ; and as to the
place where they were educated, whether they have
made good progress in learning (si sintbene literati),
and are instructed in the law of the Lord. Above
all things, whether they firmly hold the catholic
faith, and are able to set it forth in plain language.
Those, however, to whom this is entrusted must
take care that they do not depart from the faith,
either from favour or for interest, so as to present
to the bishop any unworthy or unfit person to
receive holy orders ; for should they do this, he who
has unworthily approached the altar shall be
removed from it ; and they who have attempted to
sell the gift of the Holy Ghost, being already con
demned in the sight of God, shall be deprived of
their ecclesiastical dignity. They shall, therefore,
be diligently examined during three following days,
and then those who are approved shall be presented
to the bishop on the Saturday." x
To come to our own country, it was decreed by
the sixth canon of the council held at Cliffe, or
Cloveshou, near Rochester, in the year 747, " that
9 Cone. vi. 406. l Cone. ix. 471.

40 STATE OP LEARNING [NO. II.
the bishops shall ordain no man, either of clerks or
monks, to the holy degree of priesthood without
public inquiry as to his previous life, and his present
purity of morals, and knowledge of the faith. For
how can he preach to others the whole faith,
minister the word of knowledge, and appoint to
sinners the measure of penance, unless he first,
with studious care, according to the measure of his
capacity, takes pains to learn, so that, according to
the apostle, he may be able to ' exhort according to
sound doctrine?'" The seventh canon directs,
" that bishops, abbots, and abbesses . . . shall
study and provide, with diligent care, that the
custom of continual reading may be practised in
their societies, and may become more common, to
the benefit of souls and the praise of the eternal
King. For it is a lamentable thing to say that, in
these times, very few are to be found who are
carried away. by a thoroughly hearty love of holy
learning (qui ex intimo corde sacrai scientice rapiantur
amore), and they are scarcely willing to take much
pains to learn anything; but rather from their
youth they are occupied with divers vanities, and
lusts of vain glory; and, with wandering minds,
they seek after the unstable things of this world
rather than the unchangeable things of holy scrip
ture. Let them, therefore, be compelled ; and let
the children in the schools be brought up to the
love of sacred learning, that, by these means, well-
educated persons may be found for every kind of
service in the Church of God. Nor let their earthly
rulers be so tenacious of their services as that the
House of God should fall into contempt, being
destitute of all spiritual ornament." 2
This brings us to the time of Charlemagne, of
whose exertions in the cause of literature I hope to
say more hereafter; but, in the mean time, I must
2 Cone. vi. 1575.

NO. II.] AMONG THE CLERGY. 41
just notice his Capitulary of Aix-la- Chapelle, ad
dressed to the ecclesiastical authorities in a.d. 789.
He says, " We beseech your piety, that the ministers
of God's altar may adorn their ministry by good
morals — whether, as canons, by the observance of
their order, or, as monks, by the performance of
their vow — we entreat that they may maintain a
good and laudable life and conversation, as our
Lord in the gospel commands, ' Let your light so
shine before men, that they may see your good
works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven ; '
so that, by their good conversation, many may be
drawn to God. And let them collect and keep
under their care (adgregent sibique socient), not only
children of servile condition, but those belonging to
persons of better rank ; and let there be schools of
reading boys. In all monasteries and dioceses, let
them learn the Psalms, the musical notes, the chants,
the calendar,3 and grammar. But let them have
catholic books well corrected; because frequently,
when they desire to pray for anything very pro
perly, they ask amiss, by reason of incorrect books.
And do not suffer your boys to spoil the books, by
either their reading and writing ; and if you want a
gospel or a missal to be written, let it be done by
men of mature age, with all diligence."4 Again, in
the Capitula data Presbyteris, in the year 804, he

3 " Chants and calendar " is not a very satisfactory translation
of " cantus et compotus." To call the latter (as I have seen it
called) " the compost" would not be very intelligible to the Eng
lish reader. Still calendar does not express the thing, which was
rather that learning, that compotus, or computus, which would enable
a computista, or artis computatoriw magister, to make a calendar, or
computorium ; and some of which (enough to show its nature) the
reader may find in the beginning of his Prayer Book. I may,
however, perhaps, be allowed at present to pass over some words
without explanation, of which I hope to speak more fully hereafter.
What is implied in knowing the cantus, compotus, grammatica, and
penitential, will then more fully appear.
4 Capit. Reg. Fr. edit. Baluz., torn. i. 237.

42 STATE OP LEAKNING [NO. II.
says, "I would admonish you, my brethren and
sons, to give attention to these few capitula which
follow : — first, that a priest of God should be
learned in holy scripture, and rightly believe, and
teach to others, the faith of the Trinity, and be able
properly to fulfil his office. Secondly, that he
should have the whole Psalter by heart. Thirdly,
that he should know by heart the Creed and the
office for Baptism. Fourthly, that he should be
learned in the Canons, and well know his Peniten
tial. Fifthly, that he should know the Chants and
the Calendar." 6 More might be quoted from this
source, but perhaps it is not necessary for my pre
sent purpose, — which is, to show that it was pretty
commonly taken for granted that a clerk could read.
But, in case any reader should have thought that
I lay undue stress on the word bene, and should
suppose (as it is charitable to hope that Robertson
did when he left it out), that it was a mere ex
pletive, I will here give an extract from a writer of
this period, from which it will appear that the
inquiry as to reading well was one actually and par
ticularly made. Rabanus Maurus, who was after
wards Archbishop of Mentz, and who wrote his
book De Institutions Clericorum in the year 819,
says, " The canons and the decrees of Pope Zosimus
have decided, that a clerk proceeding to holy orders
shall continue five years among the readers, or
exorcists ; and, after that, shall be an acolyte, or
subdeacon, four years. That he shall not be ad
mitted to deacon's orders before he is twenty-five
years of age; and that if, during five years, he
ministers irreproachably, he may be promoted to
priest's orders ; but on no account before he is thirty
years of age, even though he should be peculiarly
qualified, for our Lord himself did not begin to
preach until he had attained that age." 6 Now, as
6 Ibid. p. 417. 6 Lib. i. c. xiii. ap. Bib. Pat. torn. x. 572.

NO. II.] AMONG THE CLERGY. 43
Rabanus had just before remarked, " Lectores " are
so-called " a legendo; " and if a man was to fill that
office for five years before he became even a sub-
deacon, we may reasonably suppose that, when he
came to be examined for, what the Romish church
calls, " greater Orders," it might be taken for
granted that he had learned to read ; but as to
reading well (I hope no offence to modern times),
it certainly was then quite another question, and
one to which some attention was paid. " He," says
Rabanus, " who would rightly and properly perform
the duty of a Reader, must be imbued with learn
ing, and conversant with books, and instructed in
the meaning of words, and the knowledge of words
themselves ; so that he may understand the divisions
of sentences, where a clause ends, where the sense
is carried on, and where the sentence closes. Being
thus prepared, he will obtain such a power of read
ing as that, by various modes of delivery — now
simply narrating, now lamenting, now angry, now
rebuking, exhorting, pitying, inquiring, and the
like, according to circumstances — he will affect the
understanding and feelings of all his hearers. For
there are many things in the scriptures, which, if
they are not properly pronounced, give a wrong
sense ; as that of the apostle — ' Who shall lay any
thing to the charge of God's elect? God who
justifieth.' — Now if, instead . of pronouncing this
properly, it were to be delivered confirmatively, it
would create great error. It is, therefore, to be so
pronounced as that the first clause may be a percon
tation, and the second an interrogation. Between a
percontation and interrogation, the ancients made
this distinction — that the former admitted a variety
of answers, while the latter must be replied to by
' yes ' or ' no.' It must, therefore, be so read that,
after the percontation — ' Who shall lay anything to
the charge of God's elect ? ' — that which follows be
pronounced in an interrogatory manner — ' God that

44 STATE OP LEARNING [NO. II.
justifieth?' — that there may be a tacit answer, ' no.'
And again we have the percontation — ' Who is he
that condemneth ? ' and again we interrogate —
' Christ that died ? or rather that is risen again ?
who is at the right hand of God ? who also maketh
intercession for us ? ' At each of which there is a
tacit answer in the negative. But in that passage
where he says, ' What shall we then say ? that the
Gentiles, which followed not after righteousness,
have attained to righteousness,' unless after the
percontation — ' What shall we say then ? ' — the
answer were added — ' that the Gentiles which fol
lowed not after righteousness have attained to
righteousness,' the connexion with what follows
would be destroyed. And there are many other
parts which, in like manner, require to be distin
guished by the manner of pronouncing them. Be
side this, a reader ought to understand the force of
the accents, that he may know what syllables he is
to lengthen ; for there are many words which can
only be prevented from conveying a wrong meaning
by being pronounced with the proper accent. But
these things he must learn from the grammarians.
Moreover the voice of a reader should be pure and
clear, and adapted to every style of speaking, full
of manly strength, and free from all that is rude or
countrified. Not low, nor yet too high ; not broken,
not weak, and by no means feminine; not with
inflated or gasping articulation, or words mouthed
about in his jaws, or echoing through his empty
mouth ; not harsh from his grinding his teeth ; not
projected from a wide-open mouth, — but distinctly,
equally, mildly pronounced ; so that each letter shall
have its proper sound, and each word its proper
quantity, and that the matter be not spoiled by any
affectation." 7
It is true that Rabanus Maurus has taken the

7 Lib. ii. c. Iii. Bib. Pat. x. 616.

NO. II.] AMONG THE CLERGY. 45
substance of this from Isidore of Seville,8 who wrote
more than two hundred years before, though he has
improved it ; but if it was good, why should it not
be repeated ? So thought Ivo, Bishop of Chartres,
who gave it again in his discourses De Rebus JEc-
clesiasticis,9 nearly three hundred years after
Rabanus wrote — and I cannot help suspecting that
if Robertson had gone to the Archbishop of Seville
in the seventh century, the Archbishop of Mayence
in the ninth, or the Bishop of Chartres in the
eleventh, for holy orders, he would have found the
examination rather more than he expected. If I
have failed to convince the reader of this, by the
extracts already given, I shall hope to do so here
after ; but I think that what has been said must be
sufficient to show that it was not a very uncommon
thing, even in the dark ages, for the clergy to be
able to read and write.

8 De Eccles. Office., lib. ii. c. xi., Bib. Pat. x. 209.
9 Serm. ii. ap. Bib. Pat. x. 774.

46 STATE OP LEARNING [NO. III.

No. III.
- nil dulcius est, bene quam munita tenere

Edita doctrina sapientum templa serena ;
Despicere unde queas alios, passimque videre
Errare, atque viam palanteis qurerere vitas." — Lucretius.
" Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because they keep not
thy law." — Ps. cxix.
When I began the preceding paper, I had no idea
of replying to Robertson's character of the clergy
during the dark ages at such length ; and meant
only to notice, very briefly, such parts of his state
ment as are absolutely untrue. I intended, until I
should have thus gone through his remarks, to say
little or nothing on matters which may be more con
veniently, intelligibly, and convincingly, discussed
after untruths have been exposed, and the pre
judices created and fostered by them removed; and
also, after a variety of facts have been adduced,
which may be referred to for proof or illustration.
Perhaps enough has been already said to show that
the clergy of the period to which Robertson refers
were not so universally, or even so entirely, ignorant
as might be supposed from his language ; yet, hav
ing said so much, and considering that it all tends
to the elucidation of our subject in more than one
way, I feel desirous (without professing here to
enter fully into the matter) to add one or two more
extracts, which are not, I think, in themselves un
interesting. From the Constitutions of Reculfus, who became
Bishop of Soissons in a.d. 879, and who is supposed
to have issued these instructions to his clergy ten
years afterwards, it appears as if he took it for
granted that they could, not only read, but write.
The fourth, fifth, and sixth sections are as follows :
— " Know, therefore, that this is addressed to you,

NO. III. J ' AMONG THE CLERGY. 47
' Be ye clean, ye that bear the vessels of the Lord ; ' 1
which you must not suppose to refer only to the
cleansing of the chalice and paten, wherein the body
and blood of Christ is consecrated, but also to per
sonal cleanliness and mental purity. For, as St.
Gregory says, in treating of the parable of the ten
virgins, ' Our vessels are our hearts, wherein we
bear about with us all our thoughts.' 2 We have,
therefore, a frail vessel, that is, our body, which we
ought always to keep clean, with the most scrupulous
care ; so that, while we offer ' pure offerings,' we
also ourselves may be acceptable sacrifices before
his holy altar. Also we admonish that each one of
you should endeavour to have by heart, truly and
correctly, the Psalms, the Discourse on the Catholic
Faith which begins ' Quicumque vult,' etc., and the
Canon of the Mass, and the Chants, and the
Calendar. The office for Baptism (both for male
and female children, and also singular and plural),
as well as the offices for consecrating fonts, water
to be sprinkled in houses, the commendation of the
soul, and the prayers at the burial of the dead, you
are to have distinctly and correctly written out ;
and, by frequent study, you are to qualify yourselves
to perform them correctly and unblameably for
both men and women. As to the aforesaid office
for the baptism of infants, we would that you
should write it out in a fourfold manner ; that is to
say, the singular masculine and the singular
feminine ; the plural masculine and the plural
feminine ; as we, if Christ permit, will furnish you
with a copy. Also we admonish that each one of
you should be careful to have a Missal, Lectionary,
a Book of the Gospels, a Martyrology, an Antipho-
nary, Psalter, and a Book of Forty Homilies of St.
1 " Mundamini qui fertis vasa Domini." Isaiah Iii. 11. I give
the words of our translation ; and wish to mention that I do so
wherever there is not any material variation.
2 Horn, in Evan. XII., t. ii. p. 357.

48 STATE OP LEARNING [NO. III.
Gregory, corrected and pointed by our copies which
we use in the holy mother church. And, also, fail
not to have as many sacred and ecclesiastical books
as you can get ; for from them you shall receive
food and condiment for your souls, our Lord him
self having declared, ' Man doth not live by bread
alone ; but by every word that proceedeth out of
the mouth of God.' If, however, any one of you is
not able to obtain all the books of the Old Testa
ment, at least let him diligently take pains to trans
cribe for himself correctly the first book of the
whole sacred history, that is, Genesis ; by reading
which he may come to understand the creation of
the world." 3
This, as I have observed, seems to imply that the
priests in the diocese of Soissons, in the ninth
century, could both read and write ; and, indeed,
from the sixteenth section, it appears that the
secular clergy in that diocese kept schools ; and so
not only read and wrote themselves, but were the
causes of reading and writing in others. But this
is anticipating; for what reader of Robertson is
prepared to believe that the schoolmaster was
abroad in the ninth century ? I will, therefore,
only here add one more extract on this subject, and
that shall be from the history of our own country.
The Canons of .ZElfric, whether we owe them to the
archbishop or the grammarian, or whether they
were one and the same person, were written be
tween the years 950 and 1000. They were ad
dressed to Wulfin, Bishop of Sherborn ; and written
in such a form as that he might communicate them
to his clergy as a kind of episcopal charge. The
twenty-first canon orders — "Every priest, also,
before he is ordained, must have the arms belonging
to his spiritual work; that is, the holy books —
namely, the Psalter, the Book of Epistles, and the
Book of Gospels, the Missal, the Book of Hymns,
3 Cone. ix. p. 418.

NO. III.] AMONG THE CLERGY. 49
the Manual, the Calendar,4 the Passional, the
Poenitential, and the Lectionary. These books a
priest requires, and cannot do without, if he would
properly fulfil his office, and desires to teach the
law to the people belonging to him. And let him
carefully see that they are well written."
The passage of Regino, quoted by Robertson — of
which, in this long reply, I am afraid the reader
has almost lost sight — tempts me to add the twenty-
third canon — " The mass-priest shall, on Sundays
and on mass-days, explain the Gospel in English to
the people ; and, by the Lord's Prayer and the
Creed, he shall, as often as he can, stir them up to
faith and the maintenance of Christianity. Let the
teacher be warned to avoid that which the prophet
has said — ' Canes muti non possuntlatrare' — 'Dumb
dogs, they cannot bark.' We ought to bark and
preach to the laity, lest perchance we should cause
them to perish for lack of knowledge. Christ saith
in his Gospel of ignorant teachers, 'if the blind
lead the blind, both fall into the ditch.' Blind is
the teacher if he is illiterate, and deceives the laity
by his ignorance. Beware of this, as your office
requires."5 4 The Latin translation in Wilkins's Councils has numerale ;
that in Labbe's preserves the original Anglo-Saxon gerim ; and I
translate it calendar, because I have no doubt that it means the
compotus, which I have before (somewhat improperly) so trans
lated. It occurs in a " Calendarium seu Menologium Poeticum,"
given by Hickes, Thes. Ling. Vett. Sept., torn. i. p. 203, from a
MS. in the Cottonian Library, at the 18th line " Iamiajirar
genim," where it is translated " Januarium Calendarii ; " and in
a note on it, at p. 209, he says, " Sic enim jepim, ut xi\m apud
veteres calendarium, fastos, ephemerida denotat." Considering the
purpose for which-1 write, it may be worth while to state that
Collier, in his Ecclesiastical History, vol. i. p. 207, gives this
canon, thus : — " By the one-and- twentieth, ' Every priest, before
his ordination, was obliged to be furnished with church books, that
is, with a Psalter ; a Book of Epistles and Gospels ; a Missale ; a
Book of Church Hymns ; a Penitentiale, and a Lectionarie, or
Rseding Boc,' " etc., thus leaving out the Gerim, Manual, and
Passional ; a convenient way of quoting.
6 Wilkins's Cone, i. 250. E

50 MISREPRESENTATIONS [NO. III.
To proceed, however, with Robertson : —
"Alfred the Great complained that, from the Humber to the
Thames, there was not a priest who understood the liturgy in his
mother tongue, or who could translate the easiest piece of Latin ;
and that, from the Thames to the sea, the ecclesiastics were still
more ignorant. Asserus de rebus gestis Alfredi, ap. Camdeni.
Anglica, &c, p. 25. The ignorance of the clergy is quaintly
described by an author of the dark ages. ' Potius dediti guise
quam GIossk ; potius colligunt libras quam legunt libros ; libentius
intuentur Martham quam Marcum ; malunt legere in Salmoue
quam in Solomone.' Alanas de art. Prasdicat. ap. Lebeuf. Dissert.
torn. ii. p. 21."— p. 233.
I will not here run into what must necessarily be
a long discourse about Alfred, and which would
anticipate what I may more properly say when
some facts shall have come under notice which may
enable us to form a better judgment of the. state
of things in England during the reign of that
monarch, as well as before and after it. Here I
only observe that, supposing Robertson's statement
to be quite correct,6 it only shows that the Anglo-
Saxons were at that period behind their neighbours
on the continent of Europe ; which nobody would
think of disputing. Let us, therefore, with Robert
son, leap over about three centuries, and into
Flanders, to see how quaintly " the ignorance of
the clergy " was described by Alanus. Are we to
take this as the character of " the clergy " gener
ally in all places during the dark ages ? or only of
"the clergy" in the time and neighbourhood of
Alanus ? And is it by jumping over time and
space in this manner, to pick out parts of sen
tences, that we can hope to understand the matter
aright ?
Though, after taking and giving some trouble, I

Which, by the way, it is not. Alfred said "very few," which
is quite a different thing, if I may trust the Latin translation of
Wise (p. 87;— " paucissimi ;" and Mr. Sharon Turner's English
translation "very few," in his History of the Anglo-Saxons,
vol. n. p. 277.

no. in.] in Robertson's charles v. 51
am not at present able to say whether this passage
has been correctly and fairly quoted either by or
from Lebeuf, yet I feel authorized by what I have
seen of Alanus to suspect that he did not speak in
these terms of " the clergy " in general. Of this,
however, one cannot judge without seeing what is
to agree with '"dediti;" and, indeed, the whole
connexion of the sentence. Yet it matters little :
the words may be there ; and whether they are or
not, and whether they meant all that Robertson
pretends, is of no consequence. It is of more
importance to observe the taste and the spirit which
are manifested in the citation of such ribaldry. I
notice it the rather, because I have remarked that
so many moderns seem disposed to speak and write
with self-satisfied glee of their dark ancestors ; and
to be much amused with the quaint humour which
describes and exaggerates their ignorance, bar
barism, and vice. I believe the feeling is natural to
man — it was avowed with infernal candour by the
heathen whose hackneyed lines I have placed at the
head of this paper — but it is one which we might
expect to find disavowed with abhorrence by every
man pretending to be a Christian. That men were
wandering in error, and seeking in vain " the way
of life," with such guides as Alanus has " quaintly
described," can be no subject of mirth to a Chris
tian mind. Superstition may put on a ridiculous
form, and ignorance may commit ludicrous blunders
— we may laugh, for, by the law of our nature, we
must laugh at some of these things — but to find
amusement in the brutal and degraded state of the
ministers of religion at any time, and, indeed, I may
say of any religion, must, I think, be peculiar to
bad men.
It is, however, very important, and very much
to our present purpose, to add a few words on this
subject ; because I apprehend that, for the want of
a little consideration, many persons have been led
into a mistaken view of the case. There were in

52 LEARNING AND MORALS [NO. III.
the dark ages (as well as at other times) two sets
of persons, from whose writings it is easy to cull
passages describing " the clergy " as less learned
and religious than they were bound to be ; and each
set tempted to detail, and perhaps to exaggerate,
the vices of ecclesiastics.
First, there were those who hated the religion
which the clergy maintained, and who envied the
property, privileges, and influence which they en
joyed ; and which (whatever the personal character
of some of them might be) they generally employed
to check the licentiousness of others, Among these
there have perhaps always been facetious persons
who have considered religion and its ministers as
fit subjects for their drollery ; and who have
delighted to represent the clergy as a vile race of
knaves and fools, characterized only by pride,
sensuality, avarice, and ambition, except where all
these, and all that was better, was kept under by
idiot superstition. Yet, as far as I know, there
was but little of this ribaldry during the period of
which Robertson writes. He talks of the seventh
to the eleventh century ; but for the single instance
which he gives (and I cannot but doubt whether it
properly belongs to this class) he goes to, at least, the
middle of the twelfth century. Without entering
into the dispute about the precise period, or the
identity of Alanus, this is the earliest date that can
be assigned to him ; and, in fact, it is to the
thirteenth, and yet more to the fourteenth and
fifteenth, century that we must go for quaint
descriptions of the corrupted church. I should
like very much to bring forward some of these,
with the remarks of some modern writers on them ;
but I am afraid that, notwithstanding all I have
said, such a proceeding really would be a digres
sion ; and, therefore, it may suffice, for the present,
to say that what we know of the incapacity or vices
of the clergy or the monks during the period in
question, we derive principally from their own

NO. III.] OP THE CLERGY. 53
confession; or, at least, from their own state
ments. The second set of writers to whom I have alluded,
are those who either under pretence, or with the
real object, of producing reformation, have been
vigilant to spy out, and forward to publish, the
vices of churchmen. If there were but few of the
former class of writers during the period more
immediately under our consideration, there were
some (I hope to be able to show ground for believ
ing that there were many) virtuous, pious, and
comparatively enlightened persons 7 who belonged
to this class ; and who, when their lot was cast
among ecclesiastics who disgraced their profession
by ignorance and vice, did seriously desire (and
were joined or imitated by others who pretended to
desire) a reformation of such evils. But I need not
say that the zeal of reformers, whether real or pre
tended, has often exaggerated the evils which it
desired to redress ; sometimes by describing them
as greater, and oftener by representing them as
more general, than they really were.
From both these sets of writers very strong
statements may be extracted ; and the testimony
which they apparently give will seem, to the young
student of ecclesiastical history, to be confirmed by
the proceedings of Councils, and the tenor of their
canons, as well as by a good deal of what he will
find in the works of secular historians, even suppos
ing that he does go to original sources. He must,
however, remember that sin, in some shape or other,
is the great staple of history, and the sole object of
law; and he must expect, from both the historian
and the legislator, to hear more of one turbulent
prelate, or one set of factious or licentious monks,
7 I use this qualification in deference to the popular view of the
subject ; for I cannot tell why, in things pertaining to the king
dom of God, and on which man can be enlightened only by the
word and Spirit of God, they might not be as truly, and even as
fully enlightened as any of mankind before or after their time.

54 MORALS AND LEARNING [NO. III.
than of a hundred societies, or a thousand scattered
clergy, living in the quiet decency suited to their
profession. Yet even of such societies, passing
through the year, and the century, in orderly
obscurity, annals are not wanting — " but they are
generally written in very shocking Latin" — very
true. However, to illustrate what I have said, let me
recur to the canons of iElfric, of which I have
already spoken. One might find words in his
address to Wulfin, from which it would seem as if
he meant to testify, that the wickedness of the
clergy was such, as that they had completely des
troyed the church. " You ought," he says, " fre
quently to talk to your clergy, and to rebuke their
negligence; for, by their perverseness, the laws,
religion, and learning of the church are almost
destroyed. Therefore deliver your soul ; and tell
them what are the duties of priests and ministers
of Christ, lest you likewise perish, being counted as
a dumb dog. We have written this epistle which
follows in English, as if spoken by you, and you had
addressed it to the clergy of your diocese, beginning
thus : — ' I myself tell you priests, that I will not.
put up with your negligence in your ministry ; but,
in truth, I will tell you what is the law concerning
your order,' " etc. Fuller illustration I hope to
give hereafter ;8 in the meantime I wish to get
8 To pursue this point here would lead us into what is, perhaps,
a much wider field than some readers may suppose — the subject
of church reform in the middle ages. To me it has appeared
extremely interesting, and I hope to give some extracts, which
may lead us to believe that, bad as things were, there were always
some who were trying to mend them. Conceive a bishop of the
tenth century writing to two archbishops in such terms as these : —
" Relicto penitus eo qui nos proposuit mundo, relicto omni piaster
nomen officio, ipsi ita specialius deservimus ceteris mundo, ut dum
ceteri Deo quae Dei, mundo quse mundi sunt contendunt reddere,
nos e contra mundo quce Dei, id est omnigenum amorem et
cultum ; Deoque quse debuerant mundo reddi, reddamus, id est
omnigenum despectum et contemtum, et ut ipsi alligemur arctius,
ne quando scilicet, dum ab eo non recognoscimur, despiciamur,

NO. III.] OF THE CLERGY. 55
through Robertson's statement. He goes on to
say —
" To the obvious causes of such universal ignorance arising
from the state of government and manners, from the seventh to
the eleventh century, we may add the scarcity of books, and the
difficulty of rendering them more common during that period.
The Romans wrote their books either on parchment or on paper
made of the Egyptian papyrus; the latter, being the cheapest,
was of course the most commonly used. But after the Saracens
conquered Egypt, in the seventh century, the communication
between that country and the people settled in Italy, or in other
parts of Europe, was almost entirely broke off, and the papyrus
relicto ritu cultu, habitu quoque nostro, ipsius mundi consuetu-
dine atque studiis, amictibus etiam in tantum utimur, ut solo, ut
ita eloquar, barbirasio et corona, et quod non a nobis ut ab eis
ducuntur uxores, qualescumque etiam, quas Domino ore tantum-
modo, et hoc rarissime, reddere videmur, laudes, in nullo alio
saacularibus videamur dissimiles ; ita ut de nobis, proh nefas 1
dictum prophetic possit credi quod continent tempora praasentis
sevi: ' Et erit sicut populus, sic sacerdos,' " etc. And he presently
afterwards relates an anecdote which I must translate, though for
the other matter I wished the reader to have the bishop's own
words. A certain priest who saw his bishop playing at dice,
shook his head in a scornful manner. The prelate perceiving it,
was very angry (justly enough, says the bishop who relates it, if
his anger had been directed against the right person), and told
the priest, that if he did not show him that what he was doing
was forbidden by the canon law, he would immediately send him
to gaol. The priest, with an aspect of horror, fell at his feet, and
said, " Pardon me, my lord, I am so overwhelmed with fear that I
could not repeat even the first verse of the first psalm " (the very
alphabet of a priest in those days), " nor any one decree from the
canons ; but 1 beseech you, most pious prelate, that you would
recal to my mind what in my terror I have quite lost." On this
the bishop, and the rest of the company, began to laugh and jest ;
but, the priest being still urgent, the Bishop yielded to his
entreaties, and repeated a couple of verses : — " Blessed is the man
that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in
the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful ; but his
delight is in the law of the Lord ; and in his law doth he meditate
day and night." — " Very right, most holy father," cried the
priest, " and then the rest of your time you may play at dice."
As to the zealous bishop, who relates this story, are we to
take his words respecting the state of the church as a plain
statement of facts, and set them down as cold-blooded history? or
do the very act and circumstances of his writing them constrain us
to receive them with some qualification ?

56 MISREPRESENTATIONS [NO. III.
was no longer in use among them. They were obliged, on that
account, to write all their books upon parchment, and as the price
of that was high, books became extremely rare, and of great
value. We may judge of the scarcity of the materials for writing
them from one circumstance. There still remain several manu
scripts of the eighth, ninth, and following centuries, wrote on
parchment, from which some former writing had been erased, in
order to substitute a new composition in its place. In this manner,
it is probable, that several works of the ancients perished. A
book of Livy, or of Tacitus, might be erased to make room for the
legendary tale of a saint, or the superstitious prayers of a missal.
Murat. Anti. Ital. v. iii., p. 833. P. de Montfaucon affirms, that
the greater part of the manuscripts on parchment which he had
seen, those of an ancient date excepted, are written on parchment
from which some former treatise had been erased. Mem. de
TAcad. des inscript. torn, ix., p. 325. As the want of materials
for writing is one reason why so many of the works of the ancients
have perished, it accounts likewise for the small number of manu
scripts, of any kind, previous to the eleventh century, when they
began to multiply, from a cause which shall be mentioned. Hist.
Liter, de France, torn, vi., p. 6."
Much of the foregoing, which relates to the mate
rials, value, and scarcity of books during the period
in question, would lead us into multifarious dis
cussion ; yet it is so interwoven with the specific
statements with which it is my object at present to
deal, that I know not how to convince the reader
that I am acting fairly, or even to make the matter
intelligible, except by thus quoting the whole
passage. I do not know whether there ever was a
time when readers looked out the passages referred
to, or granted the writer's request that they would,
"see," "compare," etc., such-and-such things,
which for brevity's sake he would not transcribe :
but if readers ever did this, I am morally certain
that they have long since ceased to do it; and,
therefore, where 1 feel it necessary that the reader
should know what has been said, I dare not content
myself with merely referring even to so common a
book as Robertson's.
As to the specific statements, allow me to say-
but perhaps the reader would be offended at my
saying all that I might be inclined to say on the

no. in.] in Robertson's charles v. 57
subject — it brings us on rather tender ground, and
he may think that I am as bad as the monks ; and,
besides, one is really ashamed to say, in the nine
teenth century, what they might have been allowed
to say a thousand years ago. Let me rather suppose
some monk, of the period to which Robertson refers,
to rise in defence of his order. He may say what
he pleases ; and if he should talk nonsense, the en
lightened reader will smile and forgive him. Let
him be as absurd and wretched a creature as
modern taste can conceive — such as, from his own
description, we may suppose the historian Ditmar
to have been 9, or the Prior of Grandmont, whose
" Frequens genuflexio nasum oblicavit,
Genibus et manibus callum concreavit."
Let us suppose such a person brought to light, and
blinking in our sunshine, and at length made to
understand the nature of the charge preferred
against him and his brethren. He might, perhaps,
answer — " Truly, Dr. Robertson, you are rather hard
upon us. To be sure, some part of what you say
cannot be denied — a book of Tacitus or Livy may
have been erased to make room for a legend, or a
missal — it is, as you say, a peradventure ; but it
may have been so ; and, if it was, people could do
better without books of Tacitus and Livy than
without prayer-books. Nay, you who go on to tell
us that in those days ' even monasteries of con
siderable note had only one missal,' — you who pro
fess yourself to be a Christian minister (which many
of us were not), ought to applaud us for spoiling
the Egyptians, and serving ourselves of the heathen.
We may have destroyed a book of Tacitus or Livy,
to preserve a legend, or make a missal ; or it may

9 " Agnosce, lector, proceritatem, et videbis in me parvutn ho-
muncionem, maxilla deformem leva, et latere eodem, quia hinc olim
erupit semper turgescens fistula. Nasus in pueritia fractus ridi-
culum me facit, idque totum nil questus essem, si interius aliquid
splendiscerem." — Lib. IV. ap. Leibn. Ser. Bruns. Tom. I. p. 364.

58 misrepresentations [no. III.
have been the other way. We may have saved the
youth of Christendom from some heathen obscenity,
and preserved a valuable treatise of Jerome, Am
brose, or Augustine — or, if these names only provoke
a sneer, we may have thus preserved some of those
Annals to which you modern historians are indebted
(not immediately, I fear, in most cases) for whatever
is true in your works ; and which, in grateful re
turn, some of you love to describe as dull, stupid,
barbarous, musty, old records, with which you have
condescended to defile yourselves for the public
good. But then, as to our substituting the legen
dary tales of the saints — under favour, doctor, I
cannot help thinking, from the way in which you
write, that you have not quite a correct idea of the
time when what are commonly known to Protestants
as the legends of the Roman Church were principally
written. We, who lived between the seventh and
eleventh centuries, had comparatively little to do
with the matter. We plead guilty to great ignor
ance, bad Latin, and blunders ; to much nonsense,
some lies, and a good deal that was, in fact, legen
dary — but as to what your readers would understand
by legendary tales of saints, you must look to a
later period, — you must go forward to the times
when (as that so good inquisitor and bishop,
Bernard Guido, says) ' Frater Jacobus de Voragine
Lombardus, postmodum Archiepiscopus Januensis,
suam conflavit compilationem more suo in vitis
sanctorum novis, sicut et de aliis Sanctis fecit, prout
ibiden patet.' 1 You must talk to writers of the
thirteenth century ; you may go on, and talk to the
Council of Trent, and the Congregation of the
Index, and ask them why they never expurgated
the Golden Legend, why they never even weeded
out its barbarous blunders, to say nothing of its
lies. Yes, to the horrible disgrace of our church,
you may ask why they never stretched out the hand
1 Libellus de Magist. Ord. Prsedic. M. # D. VI., 405.

no. in.] in Robertson's charles v. 59
of correction, or restriction — never even directed
the slightest breath of censure — towards it, and the
thousand and one lying books that began to be
made, and circulated, and devoured, as soon as what
you are pleased to call the revival of letters had set
men to read the monstrous figments, the foul and
scandalous obscenities of the pagan poets. Then
you may go on with Ribadaneira, and a host of
moderns, — but do not accuse us, — look for yourself,
and see what we did write ; and I am persuaded
that, though you may sometimes see a legendary
tale of a saint, and sometimes a superstitious prayer
of a missal, you will find comparatively little for
which it would have been so very sinful to scrape a
parchment, which might, or might not, contain a
book of Tacitus or Livy.
" Moreover, in case we should not come to any
thing like an agreement as to relative value, let me
add, that as we are not the people principally con
cerned in concocting the legends, so we are not the
people who were most addicted to scraping parch
ments. I do not mean to deny that what you say
is true as to the letter, and that ' there still remain
several manuscripts of the eighth, ninth, and follow
ing centuries,' which have been so treated. There
are, I confess, several such specimens ; but you
know, though you slur -over (not to say misrepre
sent) his words, by saying ' of ancient date,' that
Montfaucon expressly limits his statement to manu
scripts written since the twelfth century ; 2 and
2 Not having it in my power to verify the citation of Mont
faucon, I applied to a learned friend who has access to a public
library. He replied, " This reference is wrong —there is nothing,
in the volume referred to, by Montfaucon, nor any mention of him
in the page given above. I therefore looked to the index, where,
under Montfaucon's name, I got a reference to a paper of his, vol.
vi. p. 592, entitled, ' Dissertation sur la plante appellee Papyrus,
sur le papier d'Egypte, sur le papier de coton, et sur celuy dont
on se sert aujourd'huy.' In p. 606 is the following passage,
which, I presume, gave rise to Robertson's statement. After
having mentioned the fact, that 'depuis le xiie Siecle,' ancient

60 misrepresentations [no. III.
therefore I put it to your own conscience, whether
it is not probable that we were more sinned against
than sinning in this matter — whether those who
wanted writing materials were likely to prefer
parchment which was older than our time, to that
which we had used— and whether our works were
not more exposed to erasure than those of earlier
writers? I have said that you know this — for I
cannot affect to suppose that you did not see the
words which you have omitted or altered — but I
doubt whether you do know, that a great part of
the scraping of manuscripts was not owing to. our
writing legends or missals, but was perpetrated in
order to carry on the ungodly quarrels, or worldly
business, of secular men ; so that as late as the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries notaries were re
stricted from practising, until they had taken an
oath to use none but new parchment."
I do not mean to make myself responsible for all
that a monk under such circumstances might say ;
but yet I cannot suppress my opinion, that if any of
that fraternity had so addressed Robertson, his
most prudent and popular course would have been
to turn short round on the opposite tact, and to
reply — " Ah ! you sensual, ignorant, lazy monks ;
you could not read or write — potius dediti guise
quam glossse," etc.
writings were erased to make way for books of the church — and
thus that Polybius, Dio, Diodorus, etc. were converted into
Triodions, Pentecostaries, Homilies, etc. he says, ' Apres une
exacte recherche, je puis assurer que des livres ecrits sur da
parchemin depuis le xii Siecle, j'en ay plus trouve dont on avoit
racle l'ancienne ecriture, que d'autres.' "

no. iv.] in Robertson's charles v. 61

No. IV.

BibUothehar. Haben sie des Muratorius seine Werke nicht
gelesen ?
P. Priszilian. In meinem Leben nicht ; ich kenne sie gar nicht.
Die Hbiligbn.
I have already observed that there is often great
difficulty in meeting broad general assertions, even
when one is sure that they are untrue ; and I may
add that it is as difficult — perhaps it is impossible —
to prevent, or remove, the erroneous impressions
likely to arise from statements which though really
false are verbally true. My meaning will be
illustrated by considering the statement with which
Robertson follows those already discussed.
" Many circumstances prove the scarcity of books during these
ages. Private persons seldom possessed any books whatever. Even
monasteries of considerable note had only one missal. Murat.
Antiq. v. ix. p. 789."
Certainly there needs no proof that books were
scarce during the middle ages. No doubt the
scarcity, as compared with the plenty, and even
surfeit, of the present day, was great indeed. Yet,
great as it was, I cannot help suspecting that it has
been exaggerated ; and I think we shall find ground
to doubt the truth of the assertion that " private
persons seldom possessed any books whatever" —
or if, by assigning a lax, and comparative, meaning
to " seldom," the statement should be turned into
a notorious truth not worth uttering, we shall see
reason for believing that the impression which it
was calculated to convey, and probably has conveyed
to most readers, is erroneous.
To come, however to the specific statement,

62 Robertson's charles v. [no. iv.
backed by the authority of Muratori — for ray
present business is chiefly with it — " even monas
teries of considerable note had only one missal."
In the first place, will anybody tell me what they
wanted with more ? " Monasteries of considerable
note " had but one church, or chapel, and not more
inmates than that one building would contain ; and
might not mass be said every hour of every day all
the year round, out of one missal, as well as if there
had been fifty ? " Yes," it may be said " but one is
accustomed to look on monasteries as having been,
in some small and comparative degree, places where
there was some learning, and some appearance at
least of religion ; and one is surprised to hear of
their being so ill provided with books." I know it
— I know that no man who has any tolerable
acquaintance with history, sacred or secular, can
help having some idea — perhaps a very vague and
discouraged idea — that, in those ages, the monastery
was the refuge of want and weakness, the nursery
of art, the depository of learning, and the sanctuary
of religion. This, I say, every man who is mode
rately acquainted with history must know ; even
though he should not be aware of the less obvious,
but not less certain influence of monastic institu
tions on agriculture, commerce, and those comforts
and pleasures of social life from which their inmates
were themselves excluded. Something like this, I
repeat, every tolerably educated man does feel ; but
a strange sort of vague contradiction is thrown over
it by such foolish statements as that which I have
quoted from Robertson. Half the readers of his
History of Charles V. do not know what a Missal is,
or why the monks wanted any, or what they did
with that single one which they are admitted to
have had ; but yet, from the way in which it is
stated, they take it for granted that it was a
horrible delinquency in " mpnasteries of consider
able note," to have only^one missal — and if they
were so wretchedly off, in what si ,e were the thou-

NO. IV.] THE ABBOT BONUS. 63
sands of monasteries which were of inconsiderable
note, or of no note at all ?
But, to say the truth, all this, though not I hope
untrue or entirely useless, is not to our present
purpose; as the reader will find if he refers to
Muratori, or favours me with his attention to a
brief statement of the grounds on which Robertson
ventured to make his assertion.
The Abbot Bonus appears to have been born
about the year 990 ; and though the place of his
birth is not certainly known, it seems probable that
he was a native of Pisa. At all events we are
informed that he became a monk at Nonantula, and
that he, and his uncle Peter, came from thence in
the year 1018, to Pisa, where they laid the founda
tion of the monastery of St. Michael, which cer
tainly was afterwards " of considerable note." Bonus
presided over it for thirty years ; after which period
some dispute or dissension (it does not clearly
appear of what nature, but it seems not to have
been any quarrel with his monks) caused him to
quit his monastery, and set off for Corsica, where
some property had been bequeathed to him, and
where he proposed to live as a private person.
Stopping, however, on his voyage at the island of
Gorgona, where there was a monastery, he found
the monks greatly distressed by the recent loss of
their Abbot. They unanimously called on Bonus
to take his place. He resisted for some time;
but overcome by their importunity, he consented ;
requesting only leave to return to Pisa, in order to
bid farewell to his old associates, and to exhort
them with respect to the choice of a successor.
Having obtained permission, and executed his pur
pose, he returned to Gorgona, and undertook the
office of abbot there, which he held until his death
in the year 1070. On quitting the monastery at
Pisa, however, he wrote a statement of what he had
done in the matter of founding and maintaining it ;
and it is to this " Breve Recordationis," printed by

64 THE ABBOT BONUS. [^O. IV.
Muratori, in the fourth volume (not the ninth, for
there are but six), of his Antiquitates Italian medu
cevi that Robertson refers.1
I by no means suppose that the Abbot did, or
could foresee what inferences would be drawn from
a fact which he relates ; but really, if he had, he
could hardly have told his story in terms more
adapted to preclude the possibility of such perver
sion. The monastery " of considerable note " (that
is, as the Abbot says, in the pride of his heart many
years afterwards, " que nunc est coenobium ") was
then no monastery at all, but a chapel near Pisa
(capella, que tunc temporis detinebalur a presbyteris),
which was in a most deplorable and destitute con
dition, when " Senior Stephanus," I presume the
principal authority in Pisa, procured this poor monk
to come and perform divine service. Not only does
Bonus call it simply a chapel, but he tells us that when
he came there he found neither monk nor abbot, nor
any decent dwelling place, and in fact nothing but
a hut. (Neque monachun, neque dbbatem ibidem
inveni ; et non casam neque mansionem sed tantum-
modo unum tugurium, ubi cepi habitare cum avunculo
meo.) He then proceeds to detail the destitute
state of the place as to service-books, vestments,
bells, and all the requisites for the performance of
divine service; and, having given a lamentable
picture, he breaks out, with honest pride — may I
not hope with real and pious gratitude ? — " Now
hear, and understand, how that place is improved
by the help of Almighty God, and by mine, and by
that of my monks, and that of the good Christians
1 It was, I believe, first printed by Mabillon ; then by Grandius
(an abbot of St. Michael's, who, after seven centuries, erected a
statue in honour of his predecessor, Bonus) ; by Muratori, to
whom Robertson refers ; and, fourthly, by Mitarelli and Costa-
doni, in their " Annales Camaldulenses." This latter work
contains, I believe, the fullest account of the abbot, and to it I am
indebted for the facts and extracts which I here give. [The
" Breve Recordationis " at full length will be found at the end of
this paper.]

NO. IV.] THE ABBOT BONUS. 65
of our city." After five years he set to work on
the church, and went to Rome, where he bought
columns for it ; and then made a belfry, which he
furnished with two bells. Fifteen years afterwards,
this belfry gave place to one much handsomer, con
taining seven bells, the largest of which weighed
twelve hundred pounds. The vestments, by the
time when the Abbot wrote, had not only increased
in number, but some of them were so costly that, as
he tells us, the bishop of the diocese might have
said mass in them on Easter Sunday, "cum honore "
— the single tin cup had been exchanged for four
chalices, one of gold and three of silver — the single
hut had expanded into a monastery, with all suitable
offiees and appendages, and a considerable estate in
land ; and, what is more to our purpose, instead of
the " single missal," the monks of the monastery of
St. Michael rejoiced in a library consisting of thirty-
four volumes. But this requires more specific
notice, for it is the ground of Robertson's state
ment. In describing the destitute state of the chapel as
he originally found it, the Abbot tells us, " in ipsa
ecclesia non inveni aliud nisi unum missale ;" and
afterwards he repeats, " quando veni in ipsum
locum non legebatur in ipsa ecclesia, per totum fere
annum, nisi epistole et evangelia quia non habebatur
nisi unum missale."
Now, the first thing to observe is, that there is
no pretence for calling the place a " Monastery " at
all at the time when it had only one missal.
Secondly, that in speaking thus of " one missal,"
Robertson obviously misunderstands the drift of
the Abbot's complaint, which was not that the
chapel had only one missal, but that it had no other
service-book but a missal ; and that, therefore, only
that service could be performed which was contained
in the Missals. TJnus, in writers of that period,
whether Italian, French, or German, no more implies
definite singularity than the corresponding word in

66

THE ABBOT BONUS.

[no. IV.

either of those languages now does. We alone, I
believe, have discarded it, or turned it into " a,"
and are apt to smile when our foreign friends very
naturally say, " Here is one book," etc.
Thirdly, be it observed, that as soon as this place
did become a monastery it began to have books.
And this seems to me the more creditable, because,
during a great part of the time, the monks were in
want of the comforts, and even perhaps of the neces
saries, of life ; and what they got was principally
obtained by begging. The great and ruling passion
of the poor Abbot seems to have been to form a
monastery, and provide it with everything needful ;
and, as to himself, he tells us, that for the first two
years he had only a single shirt per annum, and
used to lie in bed while it was washed; and that
during the whole thirty years he was never possessed
of two suits of clothes, or a horse.
As to the books, however, I must give the list in
his own words, grammar, and spelling : —

Sermonum liber unus quern ego
scripsi solus cum Priore meo,
sicut habetur domui Sancte
Marie, valde optimus.
Liber Historiarum unus, ubi
continetur quidquid in sancta
ecclesia pertinet ad legendum
per totum annum.
Textum Evangeliorum unum,
valde optime scriptum, cum
tabule de argento valde bone.
Passionarium unum novum, ubi
sunt omnes passiones ecclesi-
astice.
Tractatum super Genesis, Sancti
Augustini liber unus.
Dialogorum, liber unus.
Moralium Job, liber unus.
Summum bonum, liber unus.

Diadema, liber unus.
Paradisi, liber unus.
Glossarum, liber unus.
Canones, liber unus.
Sancti Benedicti Regula, liber
unus.
Pastorale, liber unus.
Antiphonarii VIII.
Quinque Diurnales.
Tres Nocturnales.
Liber Bibliothece2 novum quod
est comparatum libras decern.
Missales quinque ; unum mis
sale valde optimum, quod
semper in area manebit,
valentem solidos C.
Super Ezechiel, liber unus.
Libri Psalmorum valde optimi
V.

2 I hope to give some catalogues relating to the period with
which we are engaged, which will offer a fitter opportunity for
saying something of these and other books ; but I am apprehen-

NO. IV.] THE ABBOT BONUS. 67
I am aware that this catalogue may provoke a
smile from those who are conversant with modern
collections; but I am not ashamed to say that I
honour the man who, under such circumstances,
had the spirit, and found the means, to rebuild or
enlarge his church, to provide all things necessary
for the honourable performance of divine service, to
annex a monastery, and make a beginning for a
school of learning. Let me also (partly to illustrate
what I have said in the preceding number, and
partly to prepare the way for what I hope more
fully to show) request the reader to observe the
nature of the books in this little list — are they
legendary tales of saints ? mere lies and rubbish ?
But more of this, I hope, hereafter.
Having said so much of the Abbot Bonus, I am
anxious to proceed to the account which Robertson
gives of the Abbot Lupus ; but I wish first to add a
few words respecting the canons and the Abbot
Regino. In the second number I stated that I had
not got the original work of the Abbot, but since
that number was printed, the kindness of a learned
friend has furnished me with the book, and I am
desirous to give the passage as it really stands.
Besides, I am induced to recur to the subject
because, after I had written the preceding part of
this paper, I happened to take up a "History of
Switzerland, designed for -young persons," published
.by Harvey and Darton in 1825, which tells the
rising generation that, " so small were the qualifi
cations thought requisite for the priesthood before
the Reformation, that candidates were admitted to
holy orders if they could only read and tolerably
understand what they read," p. 237. This, I
sive that some readers may not know that Bibliotheca was, in
those days, the latin, or at least the name, for a Bible. Will the
protestant reader give the abbot and his monks any credit for
buying it, in so early a period of their monastery, at so great a
price ? and, honestly (but quite between ourselves), would he have
expected to find that book in the list ?

68 POPULAR FALSEHOODS. [NO. IV.
presume, is taken from Robertson's statement, that
" one of the questions appointed to be put to
candidates for orders, was this, ' Whether they
could read the Gospels and Epistles, and explain
the sense of them, at least, literally.' " It may be
said (and is very likely to be said by anybody who
may take the trouble to read such a paper as this)
that though this history of Switzerland costs six
shillings, it is only a child's book, that they never
heard of it, and that it is not worth notice. To this I
answer, first, that children's books are not read by
children only, and it was not in the hands of a child
that I found this book; and also that, in my
opinion, even children should not be set to read
lies ; secondly, I confess that I never saw the book
until this very day, but I do hold it to be very
well worth notice as an instance of the way in which
the errors of popular writers are copied and dis
seminated, and dribbled down in minor publica
tions. To come, however, to the point, the inquiry does
not at all respect candidates for orders, but is one
which a bishop is directed to make in all the cures
in his diocese. I may have to recur to it, but for
the present it is enough to say that it is entitled,
" Inquisitio de his quae Episcopus vel ejus ministri
in suo districtu vel territorio inquirere debeant per
vicos, pagos, atque parroechias suae dioceseos." It
suggests ninety-five points of inquiry, of which the
first fifteen relate to the church, its state of repair,
and the requisites for the performance of divine
service. No. 16 — 73, concern the life and conversa
tion of the priest. No. 74 — 80, respect points on
which the priest was to be personally questioned ;
that is, as to his parentage, place of birth, by
what bishop he was ordained, etc. No. 81 — 95,
relate to his ministry (Posthasc de ministerio sibi
commisso inquirendum est) and it is that part of the
83rd and 85th which I mark by italics that is

^0- IV.J REGINO PEUMIENSIS. 69
quoted by Brucker,3 but I must extract the two
which precede : — " Si expositionem symboli atque
orationis dominicaa juxta traditionem orthodoxorum
patrum penes se scriptam habeat, et earn pleniter
intellegat, et inde prsedicando populum sibi com-
missumseduloinstruat. 82. Si orationes Missarum,
prsefationem quoque canonis, et eundem canonem
bene intellegat, et memoriter ac distincte proferre
valeat. 83. Si epistolam et evangelium bene legere
jpossit atque saltern ad litteram ejus sensum manif estare.
84. Si psalmorum verba et distinctiones regulariter
ex corde cum canticis consuetudinariis pronuntiare
sciat. 85. Si sermonem Athanasii. Episcopi de fide
Sanctai Trinitatis cujus initium est ' Quicunque vult
salvus esse ' memoriter teneat, et sensum illius intel
legat, et verbis communibus enuntiare sciat." The
remaining ten questions inquire minutely as to his
capability to perform different parts of the service,
and the 94th inquires, " Si habeat quadraginta
homilias Gregorii et eos studiose legat atque
intellegat." To say nothing of the erroneous
application of this document to the examination of
candidates for orders, is it not most extraordinary
that it should have been brought forward to prove
that the clergy could not read ?
Let us, however, proceed to another case.
Robertson goes on to say : —
" Lupus, Abbot of Ferrieres, in a letter to the Pope, a.d. 855,
beseeches him to lend him a copy of Cicero de Oratore, and
'Quintilian's Institutions. ' For,' says he, ' although we have
parts of those books, there is no complete copy of them in all
France.' Murat. Antiq. v. iii. p. 835."
The plain matter of fact is, that two monks,
named Adulphus and Acaricus, having resolved on
3 Of this, indeed, Robertson ought to have been aware, for
Brucker introduces it as a formula inquisitionis ..." secundum
quam inquirere debebat Episcopus per vicos, etc. . . . In ea enim
inter alia circa presbyteros jubetar inquiri, ' Si,' " etc.

70 LUPUS, ABBOT [NO. IV.
a pilgrimage, the Abbot took the opportunity of
sending to Rome what was in fact a letter of intro
duction as it respected them, a tender of his own
humble service to the Pope, and a request that his
Holiness would lend him some books, in order that
he might have them copied for the library of his
monastery. From the part of the letter which
relates to this latter point,4 it appears, in the first
place, that Lupus says nothing about " all France;"
though here, I confess, that Robertson seems _ to
have been misled by Muratori, who, after quoting
a part of the letter, says, "Hasc Lupus, in cujus
verbis non solum animadvertere possumus codicum
raritatem, quum supra memoratos uni/versa Gallia
suppeditare Lupo non posset, iique in tarn remota
regione quserendi essent, sed, etc." Lupus, how
ever, only says, of certain works of Cicero and
Quintilian, " we have parts, but desire through you
to obtain the whole;" and by " we," he obviously
meant his own monastery. Why Robertson did not
mention that the request included Donatus on
Terence, I do not know ; but what he says of " all
France " — though obviously a very exaggerated
translation of nostris regionibus, considering the
state of things in those days — applies not to the
4 " Cseterum quia parentes thesaurizare debent filiis, ut doctor
gentium manif estat, nosque vobis obsequentissimi filii esse
cupimus, commentarios beati Hieronymi in Hieremiam, post
sextum librum usque in finem praedicti prophetae per eosdem
fratres nobis mitti deposcimus in codice reverendas veritatis, vestrae
sanctitati, si id obtinuerimus, postquam celeriter exscriptus fuerit
sine dubio remittendos. Nam in nostris regionibus nusquam ullus
post sextum commentarium potuit inveniri ; et optamus in vobis
recuperare quicquid parvitati nostras deesse sentimus. Petimus
etiam Tullium de Oratore et xn libros Institutionum Oratoriarum
Quintiliani, qui uno, nee ingenti, volumine continentur • quorum
utriusque auctorum partes habemus, verum plenitudinem per vos
desideramus obtinere. Pari intentione Donati Commentum in
Terentium flagitamus. Quse auctorum opera si vestra liberalitas
nobis largita fuerit, Deo annuente, cum memorato Sancti Hieronymi
codice, fideliter omnino restituenda curabimus." — Ep. 103, edit.
Baluz., p. 155.

NO. IV.J OP PERRIERES. 71
books which Robertson mentions, but to the Com
mentaries of Jerome on Jeremiah, from the sixth
book to the end.
Now as to the Abbot's not having a complete copy
of these books of Cicero and Quintilian, and his pre
ferring, as he had so good an opportunity, to borrow
a volume of no great bulk which he knew to contain
all that he wanted from Rome, to sending about in
his own country, even if that had been equally
easy, or even practicable ; and indeed, generally, as
to the sort of half-contraband trade which was
carried on about the classics by the more learned
ecclesiastics of those days — as to this point, which
is not uninteresting when viewed in connexion with
our subject, I hope to speak more fully elsewhere ;
here it is only worth while to notice that, according
to the Abbot Lupus, the commentaries of Jerome
on Jeremiah, from the sixth book to the end, were
not to be found " in regionibus nostris ;" and
whether we interpret this to mean what a modern
reader would understand by " all France," or
restrict it to more reasonable limits, it was still a
very broad assertion. Might not the Abbot be mis
taken as to the fact ? With all due respect for the
Abbot of Ferrieres, and on some grounds he
deserved not a little, are we bound to believe that
he knew of all the books "in regionibus nostris,"
whatever we may suppose that phrase to mean ?
Robertson elsewhere says : —

" Many proofs occur in history of the little intercourse between
nations during the middle ages ;" [and it is rather a singular
coincidence, that he states in proof, of this,] " Even so late as the
beginning of the twelfth century, the monks of Ferrieres, in the
diocese of Sens, did not know that there was such a city as
Tournay in Flanders ; and the monks of St. Martin, of Tournay,
were equally unacquainted with the situation of Ferrieres. A
transaction in which they were both concerned made it necessary
for them to have some intercourse. The mutual interest of both
monasteries prompted each to find out the situation of the other.
After a long search, which is particularly described, the dis
covery was made by accident. Herimannus Abbas de Res-

72 MONKS OP PERRIERES [WO. IV.
tauratione St. Martini Tornacensis ap. Dach. Spicel. vol. xii.,
p. 400."6 I am induced to make this extract, not only
because it states what is, under proper and reason
able limitations, an acknowledged truth, and one
which it is very necessary to bear in mind, but
because it incidentally furnishes another instance of
what I hope it is true, as well as charitable, to call
the extreme carelessness with which Robertson
quoted. No doubt monks situated at places as far
distant, and as little connected, as Ferrieres and
Tournay were not likely to know much about each
other ; but the view which Robertson gives of the
matter is quite erroneous. It would occupy too
much space to show this in detail; but I must just
observe, . that so far from its appearing that the
monks of Ferrieres did not know that there was
such a city as Tournay — which is indeed a supposi
tion altogether absurd, especially as the conversation
between the two monks which brought about an
understanding and intercourse between the mon
asteries took place at Courtray, and he of Ferrieres
must have passed comparatively near to Tournay to
get there, as anybody may see by the map — it is
perfectly clear, from Heriman's account, that they
did know of the existence of Tournay and where to
find it ; and that the place which they did not know,
and could not find, was a certain monastery of St.
Martin, said to be at Tournay. They had in their
possession old documents relating to it, but of the
place itself as existing they could learn nothing —
and why ? simply because, though there had been
such a place, it had ceased to exist for some cen
turies, insomuch that some, perhaps most people,
disputed whether it had ever existed at all. The
monks of Ferrieres had no " interest " (but rather

8 See note [FF.] No. XIX., p. 325.

NO. IV.] AND ST. MARTIN OF TOURNAY. 73
the contrary) in finding out the place, but they had
some curiosity on the subject; and when one of
them being at Courtray accidentally met with a
monk, who told him that he belonged to the monas
tery of St. Martin, at Tournay, he was surprised,
and asked him where in the world it was, for they
had never been able to find it. It did not probably
appear strange to the monk of Tournay (and it will
not seem strange to any reflecting person) that the
monks of Ferrieres should not have heard how
Master Odo and his clerks had revived this monas
tery of St. Martin — that is, had settled down on the
old foundation (like Bonus and his uncle at Pisa),
and dragged on about twenty years of miserable
poverty and obscurity, in restoring, or rather re-
founding, what in after ages became most eminently
a " monastery of considerable note." He answered
(truly, we may believe, as far as he knew) that it
was quite a recent foundation ; and he seems not to
have known, or not to have cared, about its claim
to antiquity, or to have made any farther inquiries
when the monk of Ferrieres told him that they had
documents relating to its former existence. When,
however, he returned to his monastery at Tournay,
and related to his brethren what he had heard, they
lost no time in sending to Courtray for farther in
formation ; but the monk of Ferrieres was gone,
and it is true that they did not know how to follow
him. How Heriman hunted for the Abbot of
Ferrieres, and found him at the Council of Rheims,
and how he followed him, by his direction, to
Ferrieres, and found that by that time he had
changed his mind as to parting with the documents,
or giving information on the subject, from fear, as
it seemed, of giving offence to one or more of his
neighbours, by setting on foot a claim to property
which was supposed to belong to St. Martin's, at
Tournay, but which had got into other hands ;
these, and many curious and interesting particulars,

74 LITEEART [NO. IV.
the reader may find in Heriman's own account of
the matter to which Robertson refers, but they
would be out of place here.
I quote the statement, as I have already said, not
to question so notorious a fact as that intercourse
between distant places was comparatively small at
that period, and attended with difficulties unknown
in these days, but to show the carelessness with
which Robertson quoted, — and moreover the in
consistency with which he argued, for if the monks
of Ferrieres in the twelfth century did not know
that there was such a city as Tournay, could we
suppose that an Abbot of Ferrieres, more than
two centuries and a half before, was competent to
say that any given book was not to be found " in
all France ? "
My own feelings with regard to this letter of
Lupus are much like those expressed by Fleury
respecting another of his epistles. After having
said, that " Dans une autre lettre il prie un ami de
lui apporter les guerres de Catilina et le Jugurtha
de Salluste, et les Verrines de Ciceron," he adds,
" C'est la curiosite de ces savans abbez, et le travail
de leur moines, qui nous ont conserve* les livres de la
bonne antiquity ecclesiastique et prophane."6 In
deed, when Robertson had Muratori before him, and
adopted that part of his remarks on Lupus which I
have already extracted, I wish he had also attended
to what Muratori proceeded to say. After remark
ing on the scarcity of books, in the terms which I
have quoted, and on the assurance of the abbot in
asking that such treasures should be exposed to the
perils of such a journey, Muratori says, " Potius
tamen hinc discendum nobis, quamplurimas iis
ipsis monachis habendas esse gratias, quum ferme
eorum tantummodo cura, quidquid librorum veterum
superest, nos habeamus ; et majores quidem nostros
6 Tom. x. p. 609.

NO. IV.] INTERCOURSE. 75
excusatione dignos, si plura in literis excolendis non
prasstitere ; nos vero indignos, qui in tanta librorum
copia adhuc desides et indocti esse pergimus." r

7 I hope I may be forgiven if there is any vanity mixed with the
feelings which induce me to retain the note which my dear and
partial friend the Editor annexed to this paper when it was first
printed in the " British Magazine " for June, 1835 :— [" The
following passages from the letters of Gerbert, afterwards created
pope in a.d. 998, by the name of Silvester II., may afford some
confirmation and illustration to the very interesting and valuable
paper in the text. He was abbot of Bobbio during part of the
time when they were written. In his 130th letter, to Rainald, a
monk, written long before his elevation, he says, ' I entreat you to
render me one service, which you can do without danger or injury
to yourself, and which will bind me most closely to you. You know
with what zeal I seek for copies of books from all quarters; and you
know how many writers there are everywhere, both in the cities and
the country parts of Italy. I entreat you then, that, without any
other persons knowing it, and at your own cost, transcripts be made
for me of M. Manilius de Astrologia, Victorinus de Rhetorica,
Demosthenes Ophthalmicus.' (This is explained by another
letter.) ' I promise you most faithfully that this kind service shall
be kept in sacred secrecy, and that whatever you lay out I will pay
you to the full, according to your accounts, and whenever you
require it.' In letter 123 he writes to Thietmar of Mayence, for a
part of one of the works of Boetius, which was wanting in his copy.
In letter 9, to the Abbot Giselbert, he writes respecting deficiencies
at the end of his MS. of the oration of Cicero, ' Pro Rege Dejotaro,'
and at the beginning of a treatise of Demosthenes the Philosopher,
called ' Ophthalmicus.' In letter 8, to the Archbishop of Rheims,
he requests that prelate to borrow for him, from Azo, an Abbot, a
copy of Caesar. In return, he promises to communicate whatever
literary treasures he had, especially eight volumes of Boetius on
astrology, some very beautiful geometrical figures, and other things
not less to be admired. In letter 7, he requests a friend (Airard)
to attend to other business of the same kind — the correction, as it
would seem, of a MS. of Pliny (Plinius emendetur), and the tran
scribing MSS. (not named) which were kept at two different
places. Again, in letter 44, to Egbert, the Abbot of Tours, he
mentions his own diligent study of philosophy, and of the arts of
eloquence, and states, that with a view to them, he had been very
busy in collecting a library ; that he had been paying, for a long
time, transcribers at Rome, and other parts of Italy, in Germany
and Belgium, and buying copies of authors at great expense, by
the aid of friends in his own country. He then goes on to beg the

76 LITERARY INTERCOURSE. [NO. IV.
abbot to assist him in the same pursuit in his country ; adding,
that he gives a list, at the end of his letter, of the works which he
wishes transcribed (unfortunately lost, or not printed), and will
supply parchment, and other necessary costs, at the abbot's demand.
In many other letters he mentions his own works on rhetoric, arith
metic, and his completion of a sphere. But if in the tenth century
we find the work of transcribing so common, that there were
writers everywhere, in the cities and country places in Italy, and,
as it would seem from other letters, no difficulty in finding them
elsewhere, if the collection of a library was so great a matter, that
many were ready to assist, surely matters were far different from
our common notions. — Ed."]

77

THE "BREVE RECORDATIONIS" OF THE ABBOT
BONUS.
Referred to p. 64.
This document would have been too long for
insertion in a magazine ; but I hope it is not out of
place here ; and I cannot resist the temptation to
give it entire, not only because it seems to be the
fairest way of dealing in the matter, but also be
cause it is really a curious document, both as to
facts and style. No translation would do it justice.
The good abbot does indeed
" From settled rules with brave disorder part,
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art."
The dignified, though unpretending, simplicity with
which he breaks his way through the little restraints
of grammar, and gratefully uses the first case or
tense that comes to hand, will probably be new to
most readers, and will, I trust, convince those who
are suspicious, that I am not upholding the pure
latinity of the Dark Ages.
" In nomine Domini nostri Jesu Christi Dei eterni. Breve
recordationis facio ego Bonus Abbas, qualiter ab initio inchoavi
conversari in Ecclesia Sancti Michaelis, que nunc est cenobium.
Fecit me venire Senior Stephanus de Nonantulis, cum avunculo
meo Petro, et investivit me de ista capella, que tunc temporis
detinebatur a presbyteris, et neque monachum, neque Abbatem
ibidem invent; et non casam, neque mansionem, sed tantummodo
unum tugurium, ubi cepi habitare cum avunculo meo. Et opera-
batur tunc temporis in turre ipsius ecclesise, et quod habebam, et
habere potui dedi in restaurationem ipsius turris ad magistros et
ad manuales, et ad quod necesse erat. Et cessavit ipse Stefanus
laborare in ecclesia post unum mensem quam ego cepi habitare in
ipso loco, et non levavit in altitudinem ipsam turrem nisi tantum
modo unum passum super ipsam ecclesiam. Et post hee finitus

78 ABBOT BONUS'S [NO. IV.
est annus quod ipsa ecclesia fuit offerta ad honorem Dei et Sancti
Michaelis, et ad officium Sancti Benedicti, et ad ipsius regulam
monachis ibidem in perpetuum conversandis. Et hoc vobis notum
sit, quia in ipsa ecclesia non inveni aliud nisi unum missale, et
unum calicem de stagno, et unum camisum cum amicto, et unam
stolam de lino, et unam planetulam, que nunc superest.8 . . .
quia non inveni in ipso loco neque squillam, neque campanam, sed
tantummodo unam tabulam et cum ipsa tabula . . . ipsa ecclesia
quatuor . . . nunc audite et intelligite qualiter melioratus est
locus ipse cum auxilio Omnipotentis Dei, et meo, et de meis
monachis, et de bonis christianis nostre civitatis._ Post quinque
annos cepi laborare in ipsam turrim quam nunc videtis de helemosina
bonorum hominum que nobis dabatur, et edificavi in ipsa turre
ecclesiam que nunc videtur ab omnibus et perrexi ad Romam per
columnas ipsius ecclesiaa, et comparavi, et feci eas venire in navim
per mare, de nostro pretio ; et post hoc edificavi super ipsam
ecclesiam campanilem. Cum autem consummatum fuisset ipsum
campanilem cum turris et ecclesia, ambulavi per civitatem nostram
cum Burello quondam bone memorie, et cum Landulfo parente ipsius
et cum tribus aliis religiosis hominibus, et acquisivimus ipsa die
centum solidos, quos dedi pro pretio ad magistros, et posui in ipsum
campanile duas campanas. Et post quindecim annos videbatur mihi
et fratribus meis ipsum campanilem parvum et rusticior, et everti eum
afundamentis,etfecifabricare ilium quomodo videtis valde pulchrior,
et posui in ipsum campanas septem, quos omnes de helemosinis fecit
Domnus Dominicus meus Prior,9 quern ego enutrivi, et nunc
8 I give the document as I find it, presuming that such marks
here and elsewhere indicate an hiatus in the MS.
9 The authors of the Annales Camaldulenses combat what they
suppose to be the mistake of thinking that the Prior cast the bells
himself ; but I confess I so understand the Abbot, and am rather
jealous of any attempt to rob the Prior of the credit due to him
for this work of art. Who else was so likely to be able to do it ?
Of an Archdeacon of Verona, nearly two hundred years before, we
are told :
" Quicquid auro, vel argento, et metallis ceteris,
Quicquid lignis ex diversis, et marmore candido,
Nullus unquam sic peritus in tantis operibus ; "
and plenty of such instances will occur to those who have paid any
attention to the subject ; but I notice it because I do not like to
pass an opportunity of telling the march-of-intellect gentlemen,
how much they are indebted to the monks for even what they are
pleased to call " useful knowledge " in contradistinction to that
knowledge which, to be sure, is of no more use to them than
Alnwick or Chatsworth is to me. Of the same Archdeacon I
read, " Horologium nocturnum nullus ante viderat " — but I hope
to say more of him another time.

NO. IV.] " BREVE RECORDATIONIS." 79
est Abbas Monasterii Sancti Zenonis : et omnes facte sunt de
helemosinis, que nobis facte sunt, et de missis, quas ego et
monachi mei decantaverunt. . . . Et habent in se ipse campane
libras metallorum tantas. Una campana major est ponderis
M.CC. . . . alia quingentarum, tertia trecentarum, quarta ducen-
tarum, quinta centum, sexta et septima quinquagintarum. Quando
veni in ipsum locum, non inveni, sicut superius memoravimus,
nisi Unum camisum cum planetula et stola sua linea. Nunc autem
habemus in istum locum sanctum camisi xm cum amictis suis. Et
tres camisi sunt tam perfecti et optimi ut Episcopus Opizus 1
domui Sancte Marie possit cum honore cantare missas in die
Pasche. Et tres planetas, duo de pallio, una valentes solidos
centum, alia valentes solidos xxx, tertia de castanea, et tres stolas
optimas cum manipulis suis, due de purpure, et alia de pallio et
tres corporales de pallio valde optimo. Unum corporale de ipsis
tribus est de brusco deaurato valente solidos xx quern fecit Leo
Papa quarto Romanus, et habet in se depicta imago Salvatoris
nostri de brusco, et ex una parte imago Sancti Petri Apostoli, et
ex alia parte Sancti Johannis Evangeliste, et unum pluviale de.
purpura, et alium de pallio valde bonum. Quando veni in ipsum
locum non legebatur in ipsa ecclesia per totum fere annum nisi
epistole et evangelia quia non habebatur nisi unum missale. Nunc
autem scitote quod melioratus est de libris ipsum locum.
[Here follows the list of books already given at p. 66.]
" Quot sunt insuper totum numeris xxxiv. Quando veni in
ipsa ecclesia non inveni nisi unum calicem de stagno. Modo,
autem, cum auxilio Domini, habentur ibi calices mi. Unum
de auro, valde bonus, et habet uncias xi. Alius de argento
major, ¦ et habet libras in et mediam. Alii duo habentes in se
libram unam de argento per unamquemque. Quando veni in
ipsum loctim non inveni nisi unum parvam domum, et postquam
cepi commorari cum meis monachis, feci levare mansiones ibidem
novas, et post decern annos disrumpebantur ipse mansiones quas
feci, quoniam erant de ligno de mala generatione, hoc est fuere de
cerro. Et dejeci ipse mansiones a fundamentis. Et hedificavi alias
mansiones de lignis castanietis quas venire feci per mare de Luni.
Et non post multum tempus comparavi da Erigo filio Eritii terram,
ubi nunc ipsum monasterium consistit, et dedi in ipsa terra libras
xlii, et post hee hedificavi ipsam domum a petra et calcina, ubi
sunt omnes officines, sieut abbatia habere debet ; et est tam perfecta
domus, ut in tota Marcha melior non est, cum columnas, quas de
Insula Ilba et de Luni adduci feci. Et hoc sciatis, quia quando
veni in ipsum locum non dedit amplius terre Stefanus in offersio-
nem in ipsa ecclesia, nisi stariorum sex in loco Sejo de valde mala,
et stariorum XXIIII ad Tramarice et similiter mala. Nunc audite

1 He was Bishop of Pisa in a.d. 1044. See Ughelli, Italia
Sacra, torn. iii. p. 407.

80 BREVE RECORDATIONIS. [NO. IV.
qualiter, adjuvante Domino, amplificatus est locus ipse de bona
terra. Habet Monasterium Sancti Michaelis modo DC stariorum de
terra. Dedimus nos pretium in ipsa terra, quod nobis Dominus
dedit magnam partem, videlicet libras C valde modice minus, et de
alie terre cantavimus et promissimus ad ipsos parentes, que in
ipsum locum dari fecerunt in manibus nostris, multe misse decan-
tari. Cui mille, cui quingente, cui trescente, cui centum, et adjuto-
rium et consilium habuimus in aliquantulum de nostris senioribus.
Et dedit Albertus de Acuto in ipsum locum curtem unam in
Corsica, propter amorem et servitium quod fecit Johannes nepoti
meo ad predicto Alberto ; et promisi dare predicto Johanni
servitium x libr. ut me adjuvaret, et non tulit mihi propter meum
amorem nisi solid, xx et fecit mihi dare hanc curtem, et detinet
ipsam curtem, inter montes et colles et planities et agros sis-
tariorum innumerabiles. Hoc est malum quod ego feci cum
monachis meis per annos xxx in ipsum locum; et non vobis
abscondam verecundiam meam, quoniam quando inchoavi habitare
in eodem loco, tam pauper erat locus, in duobus annis non habui
nisi unam stamineam per annum, et tempore estatis in meridie,
quando dormire pergebam, ipsam stamineam ad lavandum dabam :
et quando surgebam, predicta lota staminea induebar. Et nun-
quam habui equum, sicut ceteri abbates habent, et etiam viles
monachi. Sed si necesse erat in silva ambulare, aut in aliquo loco,
pedibus meis ambulabam ; et non duplicia vestimenta desideravi,
sed quando novum induebar, neque per Pascha neque per Natalem,
alium mutavi usque dum scinderetur, quia consideravi paupertatem
loci, ut cum debito non maneret. Et multa alia feci, que com-
memorare longum est . . . argenteum et alium ereum, quando
elongavi ecclesiam Sancti Michaelis expendi in ipsa ecclesia solidos
mille sine pane, et sine vino, et sine carne, et sine pisces. Omnia
ista expensaria in breve habentur scripta." p. 123.

no. v.] haimon's homilies. 81

No. V.
" Sed quis pejerat hoc ? Non Muratorius hercle
Maffejusve, et Averanius, non qui Calepinum
Restituit nuper." — L. Sectanus.
" Scientja fere omnis exolevit : et ubique locorum non mediocris
ignorantia successit. Quod cum aio, non est mihi animus
significandi, Italiam in Lapponiam turn fuisse conversam, liter-
asque adeo sublatas, ut neque legere neque scribere quisquam
nosset. Aut delirantis, aut infantissimi plane hominis hasc
opinio foret." — Muratokius.
Pkooeeding with his proofs and illustrations of the
extreme darkness of the middle ages, Robertson
tells us —
" The price of books became so high, that persons of a moderate
fortune could not afford to purchase them. The Countess of Anjou
paid for a copy of the Homilies of Haimon, Bishop of Halberstadt,
two hundred sheep, five quarters of wheat, and the same quantity
of rye and millet. Histoire Literaire de France, par des Keligieux
Benedictins, torn. vii. p. 3."
Of course we are to understand that this was
somewhere about the market price of a volume of
homilies ; and a price arising out of the scarcity of
the article, and the consequent difficulty of procur
ing it ; and, if this was the case, it is quite clear
that in those days most people must either have
made homilies for themselves, or gone without
them. The story is, however, so very good that
one would be tempted, at first sight, to suspect it
of not being true. Let us see what the price stated
by Robertson actually was, for it is fortunately
given in terms more intelligible — at least in such a
G

82 ROBERTSON ON [NO. V.
way as that we are more likely to come at a true
notion of value — than if it had been stated in
terms of money. The scribe, it is said, received
two hundred sheep, and fifteen quarters (that is,
thirty sacks) of grain. It may reasonably be pre
sumed that the sheep were alive, and likely to
increase; that they had wool, which was worth
something; or, at any rate, two hundred skins,
which would, of themselves, be a little fortune to a
man who lived upon parchment. But waiving all
this, and considering the sheep as mere mutton, the
scribe would be furnished with almost half a sheep,
and more than half a bushel of grain, per week for
four years. Was there nobody who would tran
scribe a few homilies on more reasonable terms ?
Surely, from that time forth, every man in
Anjou, and everywhere else, who heard of the
transaction, set about learning the art of pen
manship, which must have been, beyond all com
parison, the most lucrative which had ever been
practised, and which might fairly vie with alchemy
itself. Let us, however, look at the authorities. Robert
son refers to "the Histoire Literaire de France,"
where the story is thus told : — " Un trait que
Thistoire nous a conserve touchant le prix excessif
des livres en ce temps la, nous doit faire juger de
leur rarete. Encore s'agit-il d'un auteur ecclesi
astique, le recueil des homilies d'Haimon d'Halber-
stadt. Crecie Comtesse d'Anjou, l'acheta deux cents
brebis, un muid de froment, un autre de seigle, un
troisieme de millet, et un certain nombre de peaux
de martres. II falloit etre riche pour former de
nombreuses bibliotheques au meme prix." Perhaps
nobody will dispute the inference which these
historians draw from the story ; but some will be
surprised that Robertson omitted the "certain
nombre de peaux de martres." This certain (that
is, of course, uncertain) number may be sup
posed to stand for any quantity of rich and

no. v.] haimon's homilies. 83
costly furs, and increases the price and the wonder
greatly.1 But let us retrograde another step, and look at
the authority to which the authors of the " Histoire
Literaire " refer. Mabillon, having occasion, in his
" Benedictine Annals," to mention the Countess
G-recia as a subscribing witness to a charter of
about the year 1056, by which Geoffry Martel,
Count of Anjou, granted certain privileges to the
monks of St. Nicholas at Angers, adds, that she
was the second wife of that Count, and married to
him after his divorce from his first Countess, Agnes
of Burgundy. He farther says, that the divorce is
mentioned in a letter from a monk to the Abbot
Oderic, who had asked him about a certain homilary
of Haymo ; and remarks, that though not very
important in itself, the monk's letter is worth
transcribing, because it shows both the high price
of books and the estimation in which these homilies
were held at that period. He then gives the letter,
which is as follows : —
" To his Lord the Abbot O. brother R. offers his prayers in
Christ. Most dear father, 1 would have you to know that the
Countess bought the book of which you have heard, for a great
price, of Martin, who is now a bishop. On one occasion she gave
him a hundred sheep on account of that book ; at another time, on

1 It is a happy thing that some failings and vices carry with them
to a certain extent, and so far as regards the general mischief which
they are calculated to produce, their own antidote or mitigation.
Certainly the same carelessness which gives rise to a great part of
the mistakes and misquotations of popular writers prevents them
from making the best of a good story when they have got one.
Mr. James Petit Andrews, F.A.S., in his " History of Great
Britain connected with the Chronology of Europe " — " an under
taking which had probably been blighted in the bud if he had
foreseen the toil that would attend it " — tells us that it was " a large
parcel of rich furs," p. 87 ; but unaccountably (unless he suspected
a blunder which he did not know how to correct) says nothing of
the wheat, rye, and millet. He professes to quote from Henault
— that is, I suppose, from the English translation of Henault, in
which, if I remember right, the French muid stands untranslated.

84 ROBERTSON ON [NO. V.
account of that same book, a modius of wheat, another of rye, and
a third of millet. Again, on the same account, a hundred sheep ;
at another time, some marten skins. And when she separated
herself from the Count he received from her four pounds to buy
sheep. But afterwards, when she asked him for the change, he
began to complain about the book. She immediately gave up to
him what he owed her."2
On this letter I would observe —
1. If there is really any reference to the divorce,
it seems obvious that it must have been Agnes (who
separated herself), and not Grecia (her successor),
who purchased the book. I cannot help doubting,
however, whether there is any such reference;

2 Mabillon's words are — " De hoc divortio fit mentio in quadam
epistola cujusdam monachi ad Odericum Abbatem qui monachum
ilium de homilario Haimonis percontatus fuerat. Hasc epistola,
tametsi in speciem non magni momenti, hie referenda videtur, ex
qua nimirum intelligitur, quanti tunc temporis constarent libri,
quantique hoc hornilarium haberetur. Sic autem habet ilia Epis
tola. " Domno suo Abbati 0., frater R. orationes in Christo. Pater
carissime, scire vos volumus, quod codicem, de quo audivisti, pretio
magno a Martino, qui est modo praesul, Comitissa emit. Una vice
libri causa centum oves illi dedit : altera vice causa ipsius libri
unum modium frumenti, et alterum sigalis, et tertium de milio.
Iterum hac eadem causa centum oves : altera vice quasdam pelles
martirinas. Cumque separavit se a Comite, quatuor libratas,
ovium emendi causa, ab ilia accepit. Postquam autem requisivit
denarios, ille conqueri coepit de libro. Ilia statim dimisit illi quod
sibi debebat."
Mabillon proceeds to say — " Martinus ille praesul, capellanus
fuerat Gaufridi Comitis et Agnetis, postmodum Episcopus Treco-
rensis, ut superius vidimus ex quadam charta eorundem quam
scripsit Martinus tunc Capellanus, postea Treguerensis Episcopus."
Lib. LXI. No. 6, p. 528.
Mabillon gives no authority, that I see, for the letter, and may
therefore be presumed to quote from the original. It will be
observed that the letter itself mentions neither homilary nor
Haymo. Mabillon says both ; I should like to know why he says
that the codex contained the homilies of Haymon ; for I cannot
help thinking that the Codex might be that service-book which
was then more properly and strictly, and commonly too (if not ex
clusively) called a Homilary ; and, if it was a book got up for the
church service, in any such way as some which will be described
presently, the price is not so remarkable.

NO. V.] HAIMON'S HOMILIES. 85
though I have so far deferred to Mabillon as to
translate separavit se, by "she separated," and
accepit, by " he received." We learn, from the
subscription to another charter, that Martin had
been the Count's chaplain; and, from this letter,
that he had ceased to be so; and I cannot but
think that the " separavit se " may mean when he
quitted the Count's service.
2. It is more to our present purpose to observe,
that this book of homilies was a peculiar volume,
which was the subject of particular inquiry. The
Abbot was asking about it, and the monk, who
knew its history, describes it as the volume
which the Countess bought at " a great price."
So that what she gave was then considered extra
ordinary. 3. The price was paid at different times, and in so
strange a manner, that it looks rather as if the
chaplain was some skilful artist who was honoured
on account of his talents, and took advantage of
them to work on the liberality of his patroness.
4. As to the quantity of grain — I suffer modius
to stand, because, if I were to translate it, I should
be inclined to say " one bushel " instead of " five
quarters," which would, of course, divide Robert
son's quantity by forty. I do not mean to say that
the English bushel is the exact representative of the
modius here spoken of, for what that was precisely I
really do not know ; and whoever looks into the
subject of weights and measures will perceive that
it is not very easy to determine ; but I am inclined
to think that I should be giving very good mea
sure. Now let me appeal to every rational and reflecting
person, whether it is from such cases that we can
judge of the price of books in general, or of the
comparative ease or difficulty of procuring them ?
Are we to form our ideas from the sums paid or
given by royal and noble patrons and patronesses
to artists, whose skill in writing, illuminating, and

86 PKICE OP BOOKS [NO. V.
embellishing manuscripts, enabled them to ask what
they pleased, and get what everthey asked ? 3
Suppose, however, that there was no fine writing
in the case, it is still very possible that, on other
grounds, the book might have been worth twice, or
twenty times, as much as the Countess gave for it,
without proving that books in general were so out
rageously scarce and dear. From such cases, indeed,
we cannot, as I have already said, prove anything.
Will it not be quite as fair for some writer a few
centuries hence to bring forward the enormous and
absurd prices which have been paid by some modern
collectors for single volumes, as an evidence of the
price of books in our age? May he not tell his
gaping readers (at a time, too, when the march of
intellect has got past the age of cumbersome and
expensive penny magazines, and is revelling in
farthing cyclopaedias) that in the year 1812, one of
our nobility gave £2,260, and another, £1,060 10s.
for a single volume ? and that the next year, a
Johnson's Dictionary was sold by public auction, to
a plebeian purchaser, for £200 ? A few such facts
would quite set up some future Robertson, whose
readers would never dream that we could get better
reading, and plenty of it, much cheaper at that
very time. The simple fact is, that there has always
been such a thing as bibliomania since there have
been books in the world ; and no member of the

3 Look at the state of things in countries which are now
similarly circumstanced. " The art of printing," says Morier,
" is unknown in Persia, and beautiful writing, therefore, is con
sidered a high accomplishment. It is carefully taught in the
schools, and those who excel in it are almost classed with literary
men. They are employed to copy books, and some have attained
to such eminence in this art, that a few lines written by one of
these celebrated penmen are often sold for a considerable sum."
(History of Persia, vol. ii., p. 582.) He adds in a note, " I have
known seven pounds given for four lines written by Dervish
Musjeed, a celebrated penman, who has been dead some time, and
whose beautiful specimens of writing are now scarce."

NO. V.] IN THE DARK AGES. 87
Roxburgh Club has yet equalled the Elector of
Bavaria, who gave a town for a single manuscript —
unless, indeed, it be argued that it was a more pure,
disinterested, and brilliant display of the ruling
passion, a more devoted and heroic sacrifice of
property and respect, to give £2,000 for an unique
specimen of obscene trash, than to part with a
German town for a copy of the New Testament.
Intrinsic value of this description, however, does
not enter into the question, though another species
of it does, and it is necessary to say a few words
about it, which I hope to do presently. In the
meantime let me ask, does not Robertson proceed
to state in his very next sentence what might, by
itself, show his readers that the transaction which he
had just recorded was not peculiarly characteristic
of the age in which it occurred. He goes on to
say:— " Even so late as the year 1471, when Louis XL borrowed the
works of Rasis, the Arabian Physician, from the Faculty of
Medicine in Paris, he not only deposited as a pledge a considerable
quantity of plate, but was obliged to procure a nobleman to join
with him as surety in a deed, binding himself under a great
forfeiture to restore it. Gabr. Naude Addit. a Thistoire de Louys
XI. par Comines. edit, de Fresnoy, torn. iv. p. 281. Many
curious circumstances with respect to the extravagant price of
books in the middle ages, are collected by that industrious com
piler, to whom I refer such of my readers as deem this small
branch of literary history an object of curiosity."
Might I not add, that "even so late as" two
centuries after the occurrence mentioned by Robert
son, when Selden wished to borrow a MS. from the
Bodleian Library, he was required to give a bond
for a thousand pounds ? but does it follow that in
that dark age he could not have got as much good
reading on easier terms ?
I have said, however, that there was frequently
an intrinsic value in books independent of that
which might arise from their subject ; and I mean
that which was inseparable from the nature of the

88 COSTLY MATERIALS [NO. V.
costly materials of which they were composed, as
well as from the art and labour bestowed in making
them. This value was often, I apprehend, much
greater than many of Robertson's readers would
imagine ; and if they think of a book as nothing
but a thing to read, and (looking back to the dark
ages) as only a cramped illegible scrawl on dirty
parchment, they will form a very erroneous opinion
on the whole matter. Books, and especially those
used in the church service (of which, by the way,
general readers are most likely to hear, and to
which class, I suspect, as I have said, that this
Homilary belonged), were frequently written with
great care and pains, illuminated and gilded with
almost incredible industry, bound in, or covered
with, plates of gold, silver, or carved ivory, adorned
with gems, and even enriched with relics. Missals
of a later date than the period with which we are
at present concerned were, some years ago, the
objects of eager competition among collectors, and
Some of them must always be admired for the
exquisite beauty of their embellishments. I am
not going to compare the graphic performances of
the ninth and tenth centuries with those of the
thirteenth and fourteenth ; in this point of view it
may suffice to say, that they were the finest
specimens of art which those who purchased them
had ever seen, and in all matters of taste and
fancy this is saying a good deal. As to the value
of books, however, which arose from the costly
materials of which they were made, or the labour,
industry, and taste, with which they were
embellished, I hope I shall find a more proper
place to speak. For our present purpose this
general reference to the subject is quite suffi
cient. But there was another species of value attaching
to some books in those ages which does not present
itself to our minds so obviously or forcibly. The
multiplication of books, by printing, has not only

NO. V.] OP ANCIENT BOOKS. 89
rendered them much cheaper by reducing the
labour required for the production of a large
number of copies, but it has provided that each one
of that large number should be a fac-simiie of all
the rest. He who sees one copy of an edition sees
all : that edition is dispersed among those who can
best judge of its value ; it receives from their
suffrages a certain character ; and from that time
forth, if we see the title-page, we know what are the
contents or the errors of every other page in the
book. Among those who are likely to want it, it is
sufficient to mention the time and place of its pub
lication, and if we admire the correctness and read-
ableness of our own edition of a Father or a Classic,
we recommend our friends to get it, well knowing
that as there is one there are many ; or that, at
least, our own copy is not likely to be unique, or
we should infallibly have heard of it from our book
seller. Now, in those days every copy was unique
— every one, if I may so speak, stood upon its own
individual character ; and the correctness of a par
ticular manuscript was no pledge for even those
which were copied immediately from it. In fact,
the correctness of every single copy could only be
ascertained by minute and laborious collation, and
by the same sort of tedious and wearisome process
which is now required from the editor who, with
infinitely more ease and better helps, revises the
text of an ancient writer. We may, therefore,
naturally suppose that if a manuscript was known
to be the work of a good and careful scribe — it it
came out of the Scriptorium of some well-respected
monastery — if it had passed through learned hands,
and had been found, by the scrutiny which it was
then necessary to give to each individual copy, to
be an accurate work which might be safely trusted
as a copy for future transcripts — if all this was
known and attested, it would form another and a
very good reason why a book should fetch an extra
ordinary price.

90 OFFERING BOOKS [NO. V.
But to return to Robertson —
" When any person made a present of a book to a church or a
monastery, in which were the only libraries during these ages, it
was deemed a donative of such value, that he offered it on the altar
pro remedio anima; sua;, in order to obtain the forgiveness of his
sins. Murat. vol. iii. p. 836. Hist. Liter, de France, t. vi. p. 6.
Nouv. Trait, du Diplomat, par deux Benedictins, 4to. torn. i. p.
481." Now really if a book was to cost two hundred
sheep and fifteen quarters of grain (to say nothing
of the furs and money), I do not see anything very
absurd in its being treated as a donative of value ;
at least, I wish that people would make gifts of
the same value to churches nowadays, and I
believe they would find that they were not con
sidered quite contemptible. I think I have seen in
a parish church a board (whether gilt or not, I do
not remember) informing the world that Esquire
somebody had given "forty shillings a year for
ever to the poor of the parish — viz., to the vicar,
five shillings," for preaching an annual sermon to
commemorate his bounty, and so forth.
But let me say a few words, first, as to the authori
ties, and then as to the fact.
First, then, as to the authorities, which it will be
most convenient to notice in an inverted order. In
the part of the Nouv. Traite du Diplom. referred to,
I cannot find anything to the purpose, and I can
only suppose that there is some mistake in the
reference. To the Histoire Literaire de France, I
have not at present access;4 but the passage of

4 Since this was published I have referred to the passage, which
is as follows : —
" D'autres ne croioient pas faire aux eglises et aux monasteres
de plus excellents dons, que de leur offrir des livres. [How could
they get such an idea in the dark ages ?] Et pour mieux marquer
le cas qu'ils en faisoient, ils les deposoient ordinairement sur
I'Autel, comme une chose sacree. L'usage de les offrir de la

NO. V.] ON THE ALTAR. 91
Muratori referred to is as follows : — " Rari ergo
quum olim forent, multoque aere redimerentur
codices MSti, hinc intelligimus, cur tanti fieret
eorum donatio, ut si quando vel ipsi Romani Ponti-
fices ejusmodi munera sacris templis offerebant, ad
eorum gloriam de iis mentio in historia haberetur.
Stephanus V. Papa, ut est in ejus Vita, torn. iii.
pag. 272, Rer. Italicar. circiter annum Christi
dccclxxxvi. praeter alios libros ibi commemoratos
'pro animas suaa remedio contulit ecclesiae Sancti
Pauli cantharam exauratam unam (fortasse, can-
tharum) Lib. Comment. I. Prophetarum, Lib. I.
Gestarum Rerum Lib. II.' ''
Here it will be obvious that the drift of Muratori' s
remark, which has been misapprehended by Robert
son, is, not that the books given to churches were
offered on the altar, or that they were offered pro
remedio animce, though the instance which he quotes
happens to contain the words "pro remedio animan
suae" to which he undoubtedly attached no import
ance, as well knowing, and expecting everybody to
understand, that this was, in all such cases, implied,

sorte devint assgs commun en ce siecle.a On ne trouve des vestiges
a la tete d'un recueil manuscrit des Conciles generaux et des
Decretales des Papes, ou se lit une inscription qui porte, que ce
livre fut offert a I'Autel de Notre-Dame du Puy par Adalard qui
en etoit Eveque en 919.b S. Maieul, Abbe de Cluny, aiant fait
copier le Commentaire de S. Ambroise sur S. Luc, et celui de
Raban Maur sur Jeremie, les offrit de meme a son Monastere, en les
mettant sur F Autel de S. Pierre.0 Letald nous apprend la meme
chose de Pierre, scavant Moine de Mici son contemporain, qui y
donna divers recueils d'histoire apres les avoir deposes sur I'Autel
de S. Etienne le jour du Jeudi saint."
I give the passage, to show what it is ; it is not perhaps worth
while to add any remark. It will be observed that the second of
these authorities (which is in fact to the Itinerar. Burgund.) I had
myself noticed, and quoted in the next paragraph with rather a
different view.

a Gall. chr. nov. t. 2. p. 693. b Mab. opusc. t. 2. p. 22.
<= Act. B. t. i. p. 598. n. 3.

92 BOOKS PRESENTED [NO. V.
if not expressed ; but that, when given even by popes,
it was thought worth while to record the donation
in history, that is, in their lives. Even this remark,
however, surprises me as coming from a writer who
must have known that the gifts of some of the
popes to various churches and monasteries were
scrupulously registered, and have been unmercifully
detailed by their biographers ; and, indeed, some of
the books which occur in such lists might well be
considered " donatives " of great value, even by
those who could not read. For instance, when Leo
III., in the beginning of the ninth century, gave
a copy of the Gospels so ornamented with gold
and precious stones that it weighed seventeen
pounds, four ounces;5 or, when Benedict III.
gave one to the church of St. Calistus, adorned
with gold and silver of nearly the same weight.6
Surely when such books, or even books of less
value, were given, it was as natural to record
the donation as that of a silver chalice, or a
silk vestment. We may also believe that when books
— especially such books — were formally presented
to churches, they were offered on the altar, though
I have met with very few instances of it ;7 and,

s " Hie fecit B. Petro apostolo fautori suo, Evangelia aurea cum
gemmis prasinis atque byacinthinis et albis miras magnitudinis in
circuitu ornata, pensantia libras decern et septem et uncias qua-
tuor." See a list of his donations to various churches, occupying
nearly twelve of the large close printed, double-columned pages of
Labbe's Councils, torn. vii. c. 1090.
6 " Ad laudem et gloriam ipsius Ecclesise fecit Evangelium argento
auroque perfusum unum pensans libras quindecim ... et in
ecclesia beatee Balbinse Martyris obtulit evangelium ex argento
purissimo . . . et in titulo beati Cyriaci Martyris obtulit evange
lium unum ex argento purissimo ad laudem et gloriam ipsius
ecclesise." — Ibid., torn. viii. p. 230.
7 Mabillon thought it worth while to mention that he found in
the library at Cluny a copy of St. Ambrose on Luke, at the end
of which was written, " Liber oblatus ad Altare S. Petri Clunien-
sis Coenobii ex voto Domni atque Reverentissimi Maioli Abbatis."
And he remarks upon it, " Sic libros offerebant veteres ad altare, et
ad sepulcra sanctorum, quemadmodum de Mammone S. Augendi

NO. V.] TO CHURCHES. 93
indeed, with scarcely any charter or deed of gift
conveying such things as books at all. The reason
is plain, for churches and monasteries not merely (as
Robertson observes very truly, if not taken strictly)
had the only libraries, but they were the great and
almost the only manufactories of books. Still books
might be, and sometimes were, presented ; and, on
such occasions, were likely to be offered on the altar,
though neither because they were books, nor because
they were peculiarly rare or costly, but for another
reason which is worthy of notice.
The false view which Robertson gives, and which
I wish to expose and remove, arises from appro
priating to a particular case what was in principle,
and as far as could be in practice, general and
universal. Robertson would have spoken more
correctly, though not to his purpose, if, instead of
saying, " When any person made a present of a
book" he had said, " When any person made a
present of anything to a church," he offered it on
the altar, etc. That he offered it pro remedio animce
suce, or for the spiritual benefit of some other per
son, was always understood, though not always
expressed ;8 and that he should offer it on the altar

prseposito superius vidimus." In this he refers to a book which he
had mentioned as being in the Boherian Library at Dijon, and of
which he had said, " Hie codex voto bonse memorise Mammonis, ad
sepulchrum Sancti Augendi oblatus est regnante Carolo Calvo, uti
et Epistolae Paschales, quae ibidem habentur pluresque alii codices,
quos in varias Bibliothecas dispersos deprehendimus." — Itinerar.
Burgund., p. 9, 22. That of which such a man as Mabillon thus
spoke, could scarcely have been at any period a general and notorious
custom in the church.
8 This is not, however, to be understood as having exclusive
reference to purgatory. Pommeraye has very well observed : —
" Le motif plus ordinaire qu'apportoient dans leurs chartres les
bien-faiteurs, 6toit afin que l'aumosne qu'ils faisoient servist au
soulagement de leurs ames et de celles de leurs parens et amis :
e'etoit aussi quelquefois pour estre associez aux prieres et aux
bonnes ceuvres des monasteres, dont les seigneurs et les personnes
de piete recherchoient tres soigneusement la participation." — Hist.
de V Abbaye de S. Catharine du mont de Rouen, p. 84.

94 OFFERING [NO. V.
was perfectly natural when we consider to whom
the donation was made. We, indeed, commonly
say that a man 'gave property " to the monastery of
St. Bertin," or " the monks of St. Martin," or
" the canons of Lille," and a donor then might say
so in his deed of gift for brevity's sake ; for, as we
have heard often enough, and I pretend not to deny,
parchment was expensive in those days. Many
charters run in that form — as Hildebert, Bishop of
Avignon, in 1006, " donamus monachis qui in
Ccenobio S. Andreas et S. Martini  modo
famulantur Deo,"9 etc. ; but, in fact, the donation
was not made to the church or the monastery — the
canons or monks had no property in it, and nothing
to do with it, except as servants and stewards to
provide for its safe keeping. The gift was to God
and the patron saint ; and, therefore, it was laid on
the altar erected in honour of both. Nothing could
be more natural or reasonable as it respects Him
who, though He dwelleth not in temples made with
hands, was once pleased to dwell between the
cherubim, and who, of all that He has framed for
man, or given him skill to fashion, reserves only the
altar for Himself, and sets it over against His
mercy-seat as the symbol of that glory which He
will not give to another.
Beside this, the superstition of the age supposed
the glorified saint to know what was going on in
the world, and to feel a deep interest and possess a
considerable power in the church militant on earth.
I believe that they who thought so were altogether
mistaken, and I lament and abhor, and am amazed
at the superstitions, blasphemies, and idolatries
which have grown out of that opinion ; but as to
the notion itself, I do not know that it was wicked,
and I almost envy those whose credulous simplicity
so realized the communion of saints, and anticipated
the period when " the whole family in heaven and
9 Dach. Spic, iii. 384.

NO. V.] ON THE ALTAR. 95
earth " shall be gathered together in one. Be this
as it may, however, they did in fact conceive of the
saint as a being still conversant among mortals —
hearing their prayers, assisting them in their need,
acknowledging their gifts by intercession and pro
tection, and not unfrequently making his presence
known, and even visible, among them — and his
altar was naturally the place where all business
relating to his property in this world, or his patron
age in another, was transacted.
The form of such deeds of gift naturally varied
at different times and in different places ; and even
according to the taste of individual scribes and
notaries. I have already said that the gift was
sometimes described as made to the monks, — some
times, but I think comparatively seldom, to the
monastery, — more frequently to God, and the patron
saint, and the abbot, — as frequently the abbot was
omitted, and still more frequently, perhaps, the
saint only was mentioned, and he was sometimes
actually addressed as a party to the conveyance.1
1 It may illustrate what I have here said, and perhaps amuse
some readers, if I throw together a few specimens of the different
forms taken at random from the various charters, the dates of
which are indicated by the numbers in parenthesis : — " Dono ad
monasterium sancti Bonifacii " (759). — Schannat., Trad. Fuld., p.
8. " Trado ad sanctum Bonifatium et ad monasterium quod dicitur
Fulda" (759). — Ibid. "Tradidit Deo et sanctissimo martiri ejus
Bonifacio, necnon et venerando Abbati Eggeberto ceterisque fratri-
bus sanctas Fuldensis Ecclesise " (1058). — Ibid., p. 255. In these
cases the trusteeship was fully understood ; but sometimes it was
expressed, as by Poncius, Count of Gervaudan and Forez, in a
charter to the church of Brioude (1010). After saying — " Reddo
Creatori omnium Domino Regi Regum, et Domino dominantium,
necnon et cedo gloriosissimo Martyri Juliano," etc., he describes the
property, and adds — " Omnipotenti Deo reddo, Sanctoque Juliano,
ut, a die prassenti et deinceps, omnes res suprascriptas sub tuitione
ae potestate sanctissimi martyris Juliani, et Canonicorum ibidem
Christo militantium, sint omni tempore," etc. — Dach. Spicil., iii.
385. — And an early form from the same Chartulary (945) runs,
" totum et ad integrum reddo Creatori omnium Domino, et sub
dominatione et potestate libenti animo committo beati Juliani,
Canonicorumque suorum." — Ibid., 373. More frequently, however,

96 OFFERING [NO. V.
It was very natural that what was thus given to the
saint should be offered on his altar, for how else was
the donor to present it? It was, I say, general,
not meaning that every trivial donation was there

as I have said, it was to God and the patron saint, as in the dona
tion of Amalric, to the schools of St. Martin's, at Tours (cir.
843) — " Offero Creatori Deo, necnon Sancto Martino Domino meo
gloriosissimo quern toto affectu diligo," etc. — Mart. i. 33 ; or, as
Gulfrad, the deacon to the same church (cir. 930) — "Offero,
dono, trado atque confirmo Omnipotenti Deo necnon Sancto Martino
Confessori suo egregio," etc. — Ibid., 68. Or, the saint only, as — ¦
" In Dei nomine. Ego Theothart trado in elemosinam meam ad
sanctum Bonifatium Mancipia IIII. id est uxorem Altrati cum
tribus filiis et cum omni substantia sua " (824). — Schannat., p.
150. Of this, innumerable instances might be given; but some
times the matter was put in a still more business-like form by
addressing the saint as a party to the conveyance, as — " Domno
sancto et apostolico Patri Bonifatio Episcopo ego Adalberdus ;
constat me nulli cogentis imperio, sed proprio voluntatis arbitrio
vobis vendidisse et ita vendidi vineam unam," etc. (754). —
Schannat., p. 1. The emperor, in the year 962, began a diploma
thus — " Ego Otto Dei gratia Imperator Augustus, una cum Ottone
glorioso rege filio nostro, spondemus atque promittimus per hoc
pactum confirmationis nostrse tibi beato Petro principi Aposto-
lorum et clavigero regni ccelorum, et per te vicario tuo Domno
Joanni summo Pontifici," etc. — Cone. ix. 643. Again, in 1014 —
" Ego Henricus Dei gratia Imperator Augustus spondeo atque
promitto per hoc pactum confirmationis nostra, tibi beato Petro,"
etc. — Ibid., 813. Leo IX., about 1050, began a diploma by which
he granted a tenth of the oblations made at the altar of St. Peter,
to the saint himself (or, as we should say, set apart that proportion
for the repairs of the church) with the following words — " Beate
Petre Apostole, ego Leo Episcopus servus tuus et omnium ser-
vorum Dei, de tuis donis aliquam tibi offero particulam," etc. —
Ibid., 985. In fact, numberless examples of various forms of
speech might be given ; and, without them — at least, without some
familiarity with the modes of expression which were perpetually
used — it is impossible to form an idea of the real spirit and character
of the times. With this view, I venture to add to this long note
one or two phrases from the charters of the Abbey of St. Peter, at
Condom — " Ego Amalbinus .... facio chartam de una pecia de
vinea .... ad opus sancti Petri." — Dach. Sp., ii. 591. " In alio
loco possidet sanctus Petrus aliam vineam " — " in villa quse
dicitur Inzlota habet beatus Petrus casalem unum." — Ibid., p. 596.
" Quasdam nobilissima foemina .... suprascriptam ecclesiam
violenter beato arripuit Petro." — Ibid., 585. " Molendinum quod
construxit familia beati Petri." — Ibid., 596.

NO. V.] ON THE ALTAR. 97
offered, but that, when property of any considerable
value was given, this was the common course of
proceeding. If that property consisted of moveable
chattels, such as money, plate, etc., it was actually
placed on the altar; or, if this could not be con
veniently or decently done, they came as near to it
as they could. For instance, the rule of St.
Benedict directed that when a novice had passed
through the prescribed trials, and was to be
received, he should present a written petition, con
taining the promise which he had already made ;
and that, at the 'time of his actual reception, he
should lay it on the altar — " De qua promissione
sua faciat petitionem ad nomen sanctorum, quorum
reliquiae ibi sunt, et abbatis prsesentis. Quam
petitionem manu sua scribat : aut certe si non scit
literas, alter ab eo rogatus scribat : et ille novitius
signum faciat, et manu sua earn super altare ponat."
(c. 58.) It was, in fact, offering himself; and, as
he did it, he began the 116th verse of the 119th
Psalm — "Uphold me (suscipe) according unto thy
word, that I may live ; and let me not be ashamed
of my hope." To this the congregation thrice
responded by repeating the verse and adding the
Gloria Patri. If a child was to be received, his
hand was wrapped in the hanging of the altar,
" and thus," says the rule of St. Benedict, " let
them offer him." The words are — " Si quis forte
de nobilibus offert filium suum Deo in monasterio,
si ipse puer minore setate est, parentes ejus faciant
petitionem quam supra diximus. Et cum oblatione,
ipsam petitionem et manum pueri involvant in palla
altaris, et sic eum offerant."2 (c. 59). Thus the
idea of offering at the altar was kept up ; and,
indeed, though I know of no rule for it, nor that it
was a usual practice, yet I apprehend that some
times the matter was carried still farther. The
2 See an "Antiqua Formula Oblationis Puerorum in Monas-
teriis," IX. M. &. D., p. 158. /' H

98 OFFERING [NO. V.
Abbot Heriman (of whom I have already had
occasion to speak in connexion with the Abbot
Lupus3) tells us that, in the year 1055, his mother
took him and his brothers to the monastery of
which he was afterwards abbot — " She went to St.
Martin's, and delivered over her sons to God,
placing the little one in his cradle upon the altar,
amidst the tears of many bystanders." At the
same time, she placed on the altar two hundred
marks of silver, and gave to the monastery two
mills and the rest of her property.
Thus the offering on the altar was performed, in
most cases, as literally as could be ; and even when
the property was immoveable, as houses or lands —
or impalpable, as rights of toll or tithe, or market — it
was sometimes spoken of as if really laid on the
altar. Thus, in a charter of about a.d. 1120, Hugh
de Belmont says, " Ego ipse Hugo dexterm manus
meat juramento firmavi [I quote these words as con
firming my statement at p. 35, that he who made
the sign of the cross was considered manu jurar e],
et insuper ne successorum aliqua redeat in futurum
calumnia, Deo et Sancto Petro, et Fratribus
Besuensis ecclesias quicquid est, vel erat, quod
meum jus juste aut injuste possederat de hoc
mercato, totum super altare posui, et ipsum mer-
catum dono donavi."* Gertrude also, with her
daughter and son-in-law, " obtulerunt Deo et sancto
Petro Besuensis ecclesise, super altare in Yetus vineis
villa," a moiety of a house, six acres of land, and two
serfs named Tetbert and Oltrude.5 In such cases, I
need not say, the property was not really placed on
the altar ; but it is probable, and, indeed, almost cer
tain, that either the deed of gift or some other symbol
was actually so placed. Du Cange alone supplies an
immense number and variety of examples ; from

3 See p. 72, 74.
4 Chron. Besuen. ap. Dach. SpiciL, torn. ii. p. 452.
8 Ibid., p. 441.

NO. V.] ON THE ALTAR. 99
which I will extract a few scraps by way of farther
illustrating this matter.6 "Very commonly, especi
ally in cases of land, a turf or a twig, or a bough of
a tree, was laid on the altar (obtulit super altare
B. Petri per cespitem — propriis manibus prsedictatn
oblationem ramo et cespite posuerunt super altare
beatissimae Maria?). Sometimes by a knife (ipsi tres
eumdem cultellum super altare Dominicum S. Nicolai
portaverunt) ; and very frequently, either that it
might be preserved from being stolen or from getting
into common use by being, in fact, rendered useless,
or, perhaps also, that the act might be remembered,
the knife was bent before the witnesses (posuit super
altare per cultellum in hujus rei memoriam plicatum
— posito super altare praescripti Confessoris cultello
incurvato), and, in some cases, it seems to have been
broken, as Fulk, Count of Anjou, in a.d. 1096, in a
charter giving a forest, says, " Super altare Sancti
Nicolai ipsam chartam pono, et cum cultello Roberti
Monachi quern ante ipsum altare frango, cum eadem
charta donum supradictae forestse concedens pono."7
Yery commonly a book, either merely because books
were at hand, or perhaps also because the books be
longing to the altar might be supposed to give a
greater degree of solemnity to the act (has omnes
elemosynas . . . cum libro super altare posuerunt — ¦
cum libro missali earn super altare ibidem obtulerunt
— de hoc dono revestivit Quirmarhocus et duo filii
ejus, Gradelonem Monachum S. Nicholai in ecclesia
S. Petri Namnetensis, et osculati sunt eum de hac
donatione per fidem, librum quoque quo revestierunt
monachum posuerunt pro signo super altare S. Petri).
It was not, however, necessary that it should be one
of the service books ; for I find in a charter giving to
the church of Beze, already repeatedly mentioned,
" quinque homines, tres mares, et duas fceminas,"

6 Those examples which are in parenthesis may be found under
the word Investitura.
7 Brevic. S. Mc. Andeg., p. 30.

100 OFFERING ON THE ALTAR. [NO. V.
that the donor "propria manu donum roboravit
super altare per librum qui vocatur Regula S. Bene
dicti, coram multis testibus."8 In short, it might be
by anything — by a glove, or a girdle, or a candle
stick, or a purse, or a. spoon, or whatever came to
hand, — per wantonem, per wasonem, super altare
posui — candelabro pro more illius temporis (12
S33C.) super altare posito — super altare ipsius ecclesia?
per eleemosynariam [a beautiful name for a purse]
meam, lapidem berillum intus habentem, propria
manu imposui — donum decimse quam habebat apud
Atheiam posuit super altare per cochlear de turibulo
— accipiens in manibus particulam marmorei lapidis,
qua? ibi forte reperta est, venit cum ea ante altare
et tenentes omnes simul . . . obtulerunt earn super
altare. Surely these instances are sufficient to show the
absurdity of making it a wonder that books should be
sometimes offered on the altar of churches to which
they were presented, as if other things were not so
offered, and as if it arose from their great rarity, and
the mere circumstance that they were books ; while
the simple fact is, that the church and the cloister
were, in all ages, the places where books were kept,
and made, and copied, and from whence they were
issued to the rest of the world ; as, indeed, Robert
son had just admitted in terms which would scarcely
allow his readers to believe it possible that anybody,
out of a church or monastery, should have any book
to present.

8 II. Dach. Spicil. p. 442.

NO. VI.] THE GOLDSMITH. 101

No. YI.
" Assem para, et accipe auream fabulam : fabulas immo, nam me
priorum nova admonuit." — Plinius.
Once upon a time there was a certain king who took
it into his head to have a throne, or a chair, or a
saddle, of some peculiar pattern, which, as far as I
know, has never been described ;* but whatever it
might be, he could find no artificer who would
undertake to execute his conceptions.
Now it so happened that shortly before this time
a young artist had come to the place where the
king held his court. He had been brought up, and
for some years employed, by an eminent goldsmith,

1 " Sella aurea " — but the learned are not farther agreed than
that it was something to sit on. Fleury and Ceillier say, " un
siege magnifique;" and Butler, "a magnificent chair of state."
Pommeraye, with more caution, calls it, " un ouvrage," and adds
in the margin, " Sella aurea, qui se peut entendre, d'une selle de
cheval selon I'opinion commun, ou d'un trone royale selon l'expli-
cation de M. de Montigni en ses annotations," etc. I am inclined
to vote for the saddle, because I think that agrees best with a sub
sequent part of the story, which seems to imply something more
portable, and producible, and concealable than a throne or a mag
nificent chair of state. I do not know how much of the saddle was
made of gold, for, indeed, I am not very well acquainted with the
history and use of such things ; but, without wishing tediously to
detain the reader on a subject which I never get upon without ex
treme reluctance, I must add that Du Cange quotes a passage
which mentions, " equos cum sellis aureis " (in v. Sella). That is,
indeed, from a period considerably later than the king mentioned
in my story ; but I find it mentioned elsewhere that when a rogue,
named Winegard, robbed a bishop, who was almost a contem
porary of the king, of the " ministerium ecclesiasticum aureum,"
which he carried with him on his missionary excursions, " de calice
et patena fecit sibi fieri sellam auream ; " which I presume was a
saddle.

102 THE GOLDSMITH. [NO. VI.
who was master of the mint in what might then be
called another country. I do not find any reason
assigned for this migration of the young workman,
who perhaps only went (like the mechanics of a
great part of Europe even now) on a wanderschaft
to acquire more perfect knowledge of his art. He
seems, however, to have left home with a good
character, as one who was loved and respected by
those among whom he lived, not only for extra
ordinary skill as a workman, but for the simplicity
of his manners, and his strict and regular piety.
Whether he owed it to his professional skill, or to
his character, or to some introduction which is not
recorded, I do not know. But in a few days after
his arrival at the place where the court was, he was
taken under the patronage of the king's treasurer,
under whose protection he set to work at his busi
ness, and soon made friends of all around him.
The treasurer was naturally consulted by his royal
master on the golden project which filled his mind,
and he, as naturally, thought of the young stranger.
He conferred with him, and reported to the king
that he had found an artist who would undertake
the business.
The king was delighted, and gave an order to the
treasurer for an ample quantity of gold, which he
faithfully delivered to the goldsmith, who imme
diately set to work. He wrought with great
diligence, and with such ingenuity and honesty
that, from the materials which he received for one
saddle he made two. This, though apparently
impossible, he was able to do, because he not only
used the materials very skilfully, but abstained from
the common practice of cheating under pretence of
waste occasioned by cutting, filing, and melting.
When he had completed them, he took one of the
saddles to the king, who was filled with admiration.
He praised the elegance of the work, and ordered a
suitable reward to be given to the artist ; who there
upon brought forth the other saddle, and told his

NO. VI.] THE GOLDSMITH. 103
majesty that he had thought it better to make up
what was over in that manner than to waste it.
The king was astonished, and, at first, incredulous ;
but, finding that he had really made both saddles
from the materials delivered to him for one, he not
only praised his skill, but assured him that he
should from thenceforth consider him worthy of
confidence in greater matters. In fact, this was
the first step of his advancement at court; and,
from that time forward, he not only rose to the
highest eminence in his art, but increased in favour
with the king and his nobles. In a word, he seems
to have been in much the same circumstances as
those of George Heriot at the court of our James,
and to have enjoyed the same personal favour, or
perhaps I should say, royal friendship.
It appears to have been soon after this, and it
was probably on occasion of his being appointed
to some confidential situation, or employed in some
business of state, that he was required to take an
oath on the relics of the saints in the presence of his
sovereign. " I do not know how it happened," says
his friend and biographer, " that I was present at
the time; but it may be naturally supposed that I
was likely to be there in the way of my duty, for I
was brought up in my childhood at that king's
court ;" and he proceeds to relate that the goldsmith
respectfully, but firmly, refused to comply with the
requisition.2 His majesty was urgent; and the

2 " Divinum intuitum verens," says his biographer. I really do
not understand it ; or know how far a modern writer may be correct
in saying that his reluctance arose from the fear of taking what he
considered as an unnecessary oath. Indeed, I can hardly suppose
that to have been the case ; and still less that his reluctance
proceeded (as has been suggested) from a superstitious dread of
meddling with relics. To this, I presume, his business must have
accustomed him ; but I notice the matter because I have been led,
by other circumstances, to suppose that there have been persons in
every age who doubted of the lawfulness of oaths in general ; and
it seems not improbable that he may have been one of them.

104 THE GOLDSMITH. [NO. VI.
poor goldsmith, seeing no alternative but to_ disobey
either God or the king (and each was considered a
sin in those days), burst into tears. The king had
the good sense to give way — to speak to him in a
kind and soothing manner — and to dismiss him with
a cheerful countenance, and an assurance that he
should feel more confidence in him than if he had
sworn all sorts of oaths—" pollicens se plus eum ex
hoc jam crediturum quam si multimoda tunc de-
disset juramenta."
Shortly after this, he seems to have entered on a
more strictly religious life, which he commenced by
a general confession of his sins, and a course of
great austerity. " Having arrived," says his
biographer, " at the age of full maturity, he desired
to manifest himself as a vessel sanctified for the ser
vice of God;" and he adds, that " he began stoutly
to resist the striving of the flesh by the fervour of
the Spirit," that is, according to the apostle, in
labours, in watchings, in fastings, in chastity, in
much patience, and in charity unfeigned ; for in
opposition to the present desires of the flesh, he set
before him the fires of future punishment, and the
consideration of the fire of hell kept out the heat of
concupiscence. He prayed without ceasing for
heavenly gifts, and offered his supplications to
God by day and by night, frequently repeating
from the book of Job — " I would seek unto God,
and unto God would I commit my cause, which
doeth great things and unsearchable ; marvellous
things without number .... to set up on high
those that be low ; that those which mourn may
be exalted to safety."3 He restricted him
self from fulness of bread that he might gain

3 Job v. 8. — Ego deprecabor Dominum, et ad Deum ponam
eloquium meum : Qui facit magna et inscrutabilia, et mirabilia
absque numero. Qui ponit humiles in sublime, et moerentes erigit
sospitate.

NO. VI.] THE GOLDSMITH. 105
the bread of heaven. His face, indeed, was pale
with fasting, his body dry and withered ; but his
mind glowed with ever-increasing love of his.
heavenly country. The consideration of more heavy
evils made him bear light afflictions with patience ;
for, habitually looking forward to the end of his
present life, he feared the future sentence of God,
and His tremendous judgment, knowing that it is
written, " Happy is the man that feareth alway,"
(Prov. xxviii. 14), and that of the apostle, " Work
out your own salvation with fear and trembling."
(Philip, ii. 12.) Also that saying of Job, " For I
nave alway feared God like as the waves swelling
over me." (c. xxxi. 23*.) By night he would lie
at the feet of his Lord, smiting his breast with his
hands, and watering his cheeks with tears ; and
with eyes uplifted and suppressed sighs did he look
to Him whom he feared to have offended — and
many a time did he repeat, " Against thee only
have I sinned " — " have mercy upon me according
to thy lovingkindness " (Ps. Ii. 4, 1) ; and that of
Job, " 0 remember that my life is wind " (viii. 7),
and " let me alone, for my days are vanity " (17) ;
and, being as it were out of himself, he pictured to
his own mind that which eye hath not seen, nor ear
heard, nor hath entered into the heart of man, but
which God hath prepared for those who love
Him. Whatever may be my motive for running into
this story, it certainly is not to set up the goldsmith
as a perfect model of doctrine and practice. If the
reader should think him foolish, or pharisaical, or
heterodox, it is no fault of mine — at least if I suc
ceed in what is really my wish, and faithfully repeat
an old story. I do not want to conceal that the
geldsmith's religion — for I cannot help thinking
4 " Semper enim quasi tumentes super me fluctus timui Domi-
num."

106 THE GOLDSMITH. [NO. VI.
that he had some — was mixed with superstition.
He had relics hanging up in his chamber, and he
saw and smelt, or said (and I really believe thought)
that he saw and smelt, a fragrant balsam distilling
from them ; and he took this to be an answer to
the earnest and fervent prayer which he had poured
forth beneath them, that God would vouchsafe to
give him some sign that his repentance was accepted.
" Remembering his prayer," says his biographer,
"and utterly astonished at the goodness of the
divine bounty, with deep groaning from his inmost
soul, he blessed Christ the faithful rewarder, who
hath never forsaken those who have trusted in Him.
This, therefore, was the beginning of his goodness,
or rather of Almighty God's, from whom all derive
power for all things " — hoc ergo fuit initium virtu-
tum ejus, imo omnipotentis Dei, per quern omnes
omnia possunt.
The reader is not, however, to suppose that the
artist, and the man of business and active bene
volence, was lost in the ascetic. The goldsmith, it
is true, came to have a very monkish appearance,
and was commonly to be seen in very mean clothes,
with a rope for his girdle. His biographer con
fesses that when he first came to court, he did,
indeed, somewhat ruffle it in the bravery of silk,
and gold, and gems; but even then, adds this
bosom friend, who was in all his secrets, and who
was, as I have said, brought up at the court — who
was, in fact, a little scion of nobility, and induced
by his admiration of the goldsmith to embrace a
religious life, and who, with his brother, became, as
he tells us, one heart and one soul with him — even
then, says his biographer, his finery concealed a
hair shirt. Still, however, though his finery was
laid aside, and his dress and manners approached to
the monastic, he was not less diligent in business
than fervent in spirit. He wrought incessantly with
his own hands at his trade, with a book open before
him, having, it seems, constructed for this purpose

NO. VI.] THE GOLDSMITH. 107
a sort of revolving desk, by means of which he could
bring before him a number of books in succession ;5
and moreover, though a working man, and a reading
man, and a man high in office and in court favour,
he appears to have been always ready for, and con
stantly engaged in, works of active benevolence.
It is not my present business to enter into all the
details of the goldsmith's life ; or to tell how the
favour and confidence of his first royal master was
continued by his son and successor. I pass over the
accounts which his biographer gives of the favours
which his sovereign heaped upon him, and which he so
freely bestowed in acts of charity, that, if a stranger
inquired for him (and what stranger came to that
city who did not?) the natural answer was, "Go
into such a quarter, and where you see a crowd of
poor people you will find him." It might be imagined
that such lavish bounty was sufficient to exhaust
even all the means which could be obtained from
an extensive business and from royal munificence ;

5 " Fabricabat in usum Regis utensilia quamplurima ex auro et
gemmis : sedebat fabricans indefesso, et contra eum * * * * verna-
culus ejus .... qui magistri sequens vestigia, et ipse postmodum
venerabilem vitam duxit. Sedens ergo * * * * ad opus prsedictum,
codicem sibimet prse oculis prseparabat apertum, ut quoquo genere
laborans divinum perciperet mandatum." His biographer farther
says, " Habebat itaque in cubiculo suo multa sanctorum dependentia
pignora, necnon et sacros libros in gyro per axem plurimos, quos
post psalmodiam et orationem revolvens, et quasi apis prudentissima
diversos ex diversis flores legens, in alvearium sui pectoris optima
quasque recondebat." I cannot help supposing that this revolving
was more than what is usually meant by turning over the leaves of
a book, and refers to some contrivance by which he could bring a
variety of books within his reach ; though it does not appear to have
been so understood by any moderns whose notice of him I have
seen. Perhaps I may have some readers to whom it is right to state
that, in writers of the middle age, such an expression as " sacros
libros," even if it had been " scripturam sacram," would not neces
sarily imply the Bible. I do not doubt that what we properly call
Holy Scripture was meant to be included in this case, and elsewhere
in this history ; but without being aware that such phrases were used
to designate " religious books " in general, the student of church
history would be liable to fall into error.

108 THE GOLDSMITH. [NO. VI.
though the king seldom refused him any request,
not so much, I am afraid, from any real zeal for
religion as from an hereditary attachment to the
goldsmith, and because he knew that in giving him
anything he was conferring a benefit, not on one,
but on many. But, in fact, the goldsmith had other
and, I suppose, much greater expenses. One of
these arose from what his time and circumstances
rendered a very obvious Christian duty. His mode
of performing it might now be considered singular
and unwise ; and perhaps, as it was not adopted by
some of those who have, in modern times, felt most
strongly (or, at least, talked and written most
fiercely) about the abolition of slavery, it may be
liable to serious objections, which I do not perceive.
To me, a very poor judge in such matters, and
perhaps somewhat prejudiced, it seems that his plan,
whatever faults it might have, Was the most simple,
certain, and expeditious — he put his hand in his
pocket, and paid the price of redemption. It was
not the grandest way of doing the thing; but he
lived in a dark age, when, even if the thing itself
could have been successfully carried on, the collateral
benefits of philanthropy and political agitation were
little understood. Right or wrong, however, his
biographer tells us that when he heard of a sale of
slaves, he set off immediately, and bought as many
as twenty or thirty, or even fifty or an hundred at
a time. When he had got them, the next business
was to carry them before the king, and set them at
full liberty with all the forms of law. When they
had thus become their own masters, he suggested to
them three courses, and helped them to take which
they pleased, if they chose to take either. In the
first place, if they chose to return home, he was
ready to give them all the assistance in his power, —
secondly, any who wished to remain with him, he
willingly allowed to do so ; and it was rather on
the footing of brethren than of servants, — thirdly,
if he could persuade them to become monks, he

NO. VI.] THE GOLDSMITH. 109
treated them with great respect, honoured them as
a class superior to that to which he belonged, sup
plied them with clothes, and all other necessaries,
sent them to different monasteries, and took a great
deal of care of them.
All this was, no doubt, very expensive ; but it
was not all. He asked the king to give him a cer
tain town that he might there build a ladder by
which they might both get to heaven. His majesty
granted it at once; and he built a monastery
capable of receiving a hundred and fifty monks. He
spent upon it " all that he had, all that he could get
from the king, all that he could honestly come by in
any way, and all that the great were willing to
give." His biographer says, " You might see wag
gons heavily laden with vessels of brass and wood
for all purposes, bedding, table linen, a great
number of religious books, and, indeed, everything
necessary for the monastery ; in so much that some
evil-minded persons were moved to envy;"6 and,
having himself inspected the place, he speaks in
high terms of the order and discipline maintained
in it. He adds, " There is now a great company
there, adorned with all the flowers of various graces.
There are also many artificers skilled in divers arts,
who, being, perfected in the fear of Christ, are
always prepared to yield ready obedience. No man
there claims anything as his own ; but (as we read
in the Acts of the Apostles) all things are, in all
respects, common. And the place is so fertile and
so beautiful that anybody going there, amidst its

' Ipse vero tanta se devotione, tantoque amore eodem loco
diffudit, ut quidquid, habere potuisset, ut quidquid Regi auferre,
quidquid digne comparare, quidquid etiam gratuito ei a potentibus
largitum esset, cuncta prsedicto loco destinaret. Videres plaustra
vehere onera copiosa vascula utique usibus necessaria, serea simul
et lignea : vestimenta etiam lectuaria ac linteamina mensalia,
necnon et volumina sacrarum scripturarum quamplurima, sed et
omnia quse erant Monasterii usibus necessaria, in tantum ut pravi
quique ingenti ex hoc succenderentur invidia.

HO • THE GOLDSMITH'S [NO. VI.
wide orchards and pleasant gardens, might well
exclaim, ' How goodly are thy tents, 0 Jacob, and
thy tabernacles, O Israel! like shady woods, as
cedar trees beside the waters, as gardens by the
river side.' It is of such that Solomon has said,
'The habitations of the righteous shall be blessed;'"7
and he goes on to describe how it was surrounded
by an enclosure (not, indeed, a stone wall, but a
bank, with hedge and ditch — sphaerico muro, non
quidem lapideo; sed fossatum sepe munitum), about
a mile and a quarter in circumference; and how the
excellent river on which it was situated, with all
the beauties of wood, water, and precipice, com
bined (perhaps one should say contrasted) with the
enclosure of the monastery, entirely filled with fruit-
bearing trees, might almost make the spectator
fancy that he saw paradise before him.
" Yes, the monks took care to make themselves
comfortable." No doubt they did; and I dare say,
if the truth were known, the reader does the same ;
and I believe that, if he observes the course of
things, he will find that no man can rationally seek
his own comfort without promoting the comfort of
others. At any rate, I restrain myself with difficulty
from expressing a very familiar train of thought,
now excited by this peep at the enclosed monastery.
Yery often it has been awakened ; and I know of
nothing in the history of the dark ages more admir
able and adorable than the visible Providence of
God over-ruling not only the better sense and feel
ings, but even the weakness and whims, the folly,
the fanaticism, the sin, of the monks, and actually
making their infirmities and vices the means of
spreading not only religion, but civilization ; and
setting forth in a dark and desolate age, in lands
ravaged by fire and sword, among men wild and
turbulent and cruel — setting forth, in characters of
peace and sunshine, the great truth that godliness
7 Prov. iii. 33.

NO. VI.] FOREMAN. Ill
hath the promise of this life as well as of that to
come. I hope, some time or other, to show this,
with no other difficulty than what arises from select
ing out of the abundant materials which are fur
nished by monastic history.
To return, therefore, to the goldsmith; and it
will be a very natural mode of transition if I say a
few words of his foreman — at least I suppose him
to have held that rank from his being placed first
in the list of the goldsmith's workmen, which his
biographer gives, and the statement that he used to
sit opposite his master at work, as may be seen in a
foregoing note. He was a foreigner of good family,
who had been brought away from his own country
in his childhood, and sold as a slave. Happily for
him, he was purchased by the goldsmith, who sent
him to this new monastery which he had founded,
to be educated, and then took him back, and they
worked and read together.8 So matters went on,
until the goldsmith gave up business; and then
what could the foreman do but go back to the scene
of his youth, and turn monk ? At least he did so ;
and, by direction of his old master, he became a
priest also. Whether it was out of respect to their
founder, or whether the same qualities which had
endeared him to his master won the affection and
respect of the abbot and monks, or whether it was
commanded by the mild virtues and rigid austerities
which had become habitual to him, I cannot tell ;
but, in fact, he received so much attention and
8 " Quem vir sanctus " — that is, the abbot (says the biographer
of the foreman) " sicut in mandatis acceperat, cum omni diligentia
sub pietatis studio enutrivit, sacris Uteris erudivit, evangelicis
atque apostolicis documentis roboravit ; " and then sent him back
to his master, to work at his business. He kept him constantly
about his person; and the young captive " alter Elisaeus, Elias felix
virtutum ejus heres et successor, Deo'donante futurus famulabatur
obsequiis. Fabricabant ambo simul indefesse apertos prae ocellis
semper codices habentes, geminum inde fructum capientes, ut
videlicet manus usibus hominum, mentes vero usibus manciparentur
divinis."

112 THE GOLDSMITH'S [NO. VI,
honour that he did not know what to do with him
self in the monastery,9 and seems to have remained
there only out of respect for his benefactor ; for, as
soon as ever he heard of his death, he fairly ran
away. Two texts of Scripture seem to have harassed
his mind, and made him fear lest in his popularity
with men he should lose the favour of God1 —
" They that please men ; they are ashamed because
God hath despised them " (Ps. liii. 5) ; and the
words of the Apostle — " If I yet pleased men, I
should not be the servant of Christ." (Gal. i. 10.)
He wandered alone through desert places until he
found a remote, and almost inaccessible, spot among
the rocks, which he could only approach on his
hands and knees, but which offered the necessary
supply of wild fruits and water. " There he lived,"
says his biographer, " always singing in his heart
that of David — ' Oh that I had wings like a dove; for
then would I fly away, and be at rest. Lo ! then would
I wander afar off, and remain in the wilderness '3 —
' As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so
panteth my soul after thee, 0 God. My soul thirsteth
for God, for the living God : when shall I come and
appear before God ? ' For he was such a man as
Jeremiah describes when he says, ' It is good for a
man that he bear the yoke in his youth. He sitteth
alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it
upon him ; '3 and elsewhere, ' I sat alone because of
thy hand, for thou hast filled me with indignation.' "4
Knowing, however, the dangers of idleness, and the
apostolic injunction, that he who would not work
should not eat, he employed himself in cultivating
the earth; and soon found farther occupation in
9 Whether they made him abbot I do not know. Who is to
decide when Mabillon and the Bollandists disagree ?
1 " Qui hominibus placent confusi sunt quoniam Deus sprevit
eos." — Vulg.
2 Ps. lv. 6.
3 Lam. iii. 27, 28.
4 Jer. xv. 17.

NO. VI.] FOREMAN. 113
preaching to the multitudes who came to visit him
and to seek his prayers and instruction. I believe
that only one of his sermons is in print. That it is
quite original I do not vouch; neither will I take
upon me to say that it contains all and omits
nothing that it should contain, for that is more than
I can say of any sermon that I ever saw or heard ;
but I am not writing controversially, and merely
wish, on this occasion, to tell the reader, as a
matter of fact, what he did say; and according to
the specimen given by his biographer, it was as
follows : — " Brethren, hear what I say with atten
tion ; and sedulously meditate on it in your hearts.
God the Father, and his Son our Lord Jesus Christ,
who gave his precious blood for us, you must love
with all your soul, and with all your mind. Keep
your hearts clean from wicked and impure thoughts ;
maintain brotherly love among yourselves, and love
not the things that are in the world. Do not think
about what you have, but what you are. Do you
desire to hear what you are ? The prophet tells
you, saying — ' All flesh is grass ; all the goodliness
thereof as the flower of the field.'5 Consider how
short the present life is ; always fearing, have the
day of judgment before your eyes. While there is
opportunity, redeem your sins by alms and good
works." Such, says his biographer, were his dis
courses ; and if the reader cannot agree with him
in adding, " sermo ejus mellifluus sufficienti sale
erat conditus," he may yet join me in hoping that
he spoke truly in saying, that " no corrupt or idle
discourse at any time proceeded out of his mouth ;
never was anything on his lips but Christ, and
peace, and mercy."
As he grew old, his thoughts turned again to the
monastery which he had twice left, and he besought
the abbot to build a little cell near it in honour of
its founder, and to let him live there. The abbot
8 Is. xl. 6.

114 THE GOLDSMITH'S [NO. VI.
accordingly built one, rather more than half a mile
from the monastery; and there the old man lived,
constantly employed in reading or praying, or some
work of Christian duty or benevolence, or some
handicraft, until he was ninety-four years old. I do
not know that he ever pretended to work miracles.
One of his biographers gives them to him by whole
sale ; but another account is not only very sparing
on that point, but relates an anecdote which has
quite an opposite aspect. When a certain woman,
who was grievously wounded, went to the gate of
the monastery, asking to see him, " he would by no
means see her, but sent her back this message: —
' Woman, why do you ask my help ? I am a mortal,
and your associate in infirmity ; but, if you believe
in Christ, whom I serve, go away and pray to God
according to your faith, and you will be healed.'
Immediately she went away believing ; and having
without delay called on Jesus, returned home
healed." To proceed, however, with our story. Up to the
point at which we digressed from the goldsmith's
affairs, one history might have served for master
and man ; but then a great difference began. When
the servant became a monk, the master became a
bishop. But I ought to have mentioned several
things before this, only I write under a constant
dread of being tedious. One hears so much of
"wading through" — not thick folios and cubical
quartos — but even magazine articles on subjects
more popular than mine, that I am always tempted
to omit those details which in my own opinion give
interest to history, and enable one to understand,
and remember, and use it. But for this I should
have told of the opposition which the goldsmith
and his noble convert and biographer, though both
laymen, made to the simony which was too prevalent
in their part of the world — how they also opposed
heresy, and drove it out of the kingdom without
personal injury to the heretics — and how the gold-

NO. VI.] GOD-DAUGHTER. 115
smith converted a mansion in the capital, which his
royal master had given him, into a convent for
three hundred nuns, who lived there under the
superintendence of an abbess, who was appropri
ately (but, as far as I see, accidentally) named
Aurea. She was not, I believe, the daughter of the
goldsmith, nor do I find or suppose that he had any
children ; but he is said to have had a god-daughter ;
and were it not for the reasons just mentioned, I
should run into a story about her. As it is, even,
I cannot help briefly mentioning one or two parti
culars of her history ; for the truth of which, how
ever, as to matter of fact, I by no means vouch. I
quote it for the illustration of our subject ; should it
be a contemporary and literally true story, it is
worth our attention — or indeed whether it is truth
or fiction ; and if it belongs to a later period (of
which, I suppose, there can be no doubt), it is still
more deserving of notice. It is, I mean, more to
our purpose to read the romance, if it be one, of a
writer of any period within the limits to which the
production in question must belong than to learn
the real adventures of a young woman.
I pass over the account of her noble birth, and
her betrothal in her infancy to one of equal rank,
and how at a marriageable age she persuaded him
to accompany her to Rome ; and how, while he was
rambling about to see the rarities of the city, she
took the opportunity of throwing herself at the
pope's feet, and declaring her determination to
become a nun — it is sufficient to say that she did so,
and that after returning thanks to God, his holiness
addressed her : — " ' Of what nation art thou, and
from what country dost thou come, maiden ? And
say also, what is thy name, and the creed of thy
people ; for I suppose thee to have been born of
noble race, and instructed in sacred learning from
thine infancy.' Whereupon she, with most serene
mind and countenance, and with downcast look,
began: — 'If you inquire, 0 father and lord, con-

116 THE GOLDSMITH'S [NO. VI.
cerning my nation, I am a * * * * my name is
* * * * I was born in the district of * * * *,
whence I came hither. I was educated by Christian
parents; and, contrary to my own will (and I
believe to the will of God), I was betrothed to a
young man, whom I give up, and turn from, being
bound by the love of Christ, through whose
guidance and favour I remain free from all pollu
tion in body and mind. I devote myself to Him
who created all things ; and that faith of which you
inquire, I keep unbroken to Him — -which faith, if
you really wish to hear it, most excellent father, I
will rehearse ; for though I am a barbarian by
nation, we, notwithstanding, profess that true and
holy faith which was brought to us in the end of
time from this holy apostolical see and catholic
mother church. For truly, when your holiness
inquires after our creed, it seems like Christ's
asking water from the Samaritan woman, in that
while He vouchsafed to honour her with such a
discourse, He covertly insinuated that no nation
could exclude anyone from the faith. As, there
fore, we blush not for our creed, so we are not
confounded by reason of our nation ; for David
commands that all peoples should clap their bands,
and rejoice before God with the voice of praise, &c.
But since we are admonished by the apostolical in
junction to give a reason concerning the hope and
charity that is in us to all who ask us, I will no
longer delay to set forth before your holiness, in few
words, the glory of our faith. We believe, then,
and confess a chief and unlimited (summum et in-
circumscriptum) Spirit, without beginning of time
or ending, to be the one omnipotent God ; as Moses
has said, ' Hear, 0 Israel, the Lord thy God is one.'
There is, I say, one Father, unbegotten; one Son,
his only begotten ; one Holy Spirit, proceeding from
both, co-eternal with the Father and the Son ; but
that always the Father is God ; the Son, God ; and
the Holy Ghost, God; by whom, through whom,

NO. VI.] GOD-DAUGHTER. 117
and in whom, are all things, and without whom
nothing was made. This tripartite conjunction,
and conjunct division, both excludes unity in the
persons, and produces unity notwithstanding the
distinction of persons. But while we believe in
three persons, we do not believe in three Gods ; but
we confess one Godhead in three persons. We be
lieve in a Holy Trinity of subsistent persons ; but
in an unity as to the nature, majesty, and substance
of God. We, therefore, divide all that exists into
two parts ; and, except only the Trinity, all that
has power, action, or motion in heaven, earth, or
sea, we believe and confess to be a creature, and
God the only Creator. Moreover, we believe that the
Son of God was, in the last times, conceived of the
Holy Ghost, and born of the Yirgin Mary, and took
upon him the flesh and soul of human nature. In
which flesh we believe and confess that he was
crucified and buried, and arose from the dead ; and
that in that same flesh, though of another glory,
after his resurrection, he ascended into heaven, from
whence we expect him to come as the Judge of the
quick and the dead. We also confess an entire and
perfect resurrection of our flesh in which we now
live and move in this present life ; and that in it we
shall either receive the reward of good things for
good actions, or sustain punishment for evil actions.
Repentance of sins we confess with the fullest faith,
and receive as a second grace, according to what the
apostle says to the Corinthians — ' I was minded to
come unto you before, that ye might have a second
benefit'6 (secundam gratiam). This is the treasure
of our faith, which we keep sealed with the seal of
the creed of the church which we received in bap
tism. Thus before God we believe with our hearts;
thus before all men we confess with our mouths ;
that the knowledge of it may give faith to men, and
that his image may bear testimony to God."
6 2 Cor. i. 15.

118 THE GOLDSMITH'S [NO. VI.
Such, we are told, was this virgin's confession ;
and I have endeavoured to translate it as literally as
possible, without addition or diminution. Should
any reader observe that she did 'not say (or, if he
pleases, that the more modern, lying, forging,
legend-maker, does not make her say) anything
about transubstantiation, or purgatory, or prayers
for the dead, or worshipping the Virgin Mary, or
the saints, or relics, or indeed any of the subjects
with which it might have been supposed that a
candidate for the veil would have entertained the
pope in a " barbarous age " like hers, when " religion
lay expiring under a motley and enormous heap of
superstitious inventions," I cannot help it. Neither
am I concerned to explain to system-makers how it
was that the great western Antichrist, instead of
opening his " mouth, speaking great things " to
blaspheme God and his saints, should have given
utterance to the prayer which followed her con
fession — or, rather, the benediction of her veil, and
the other habits which she was to assume : — " ' Look
down, 0 Lord, on this thine handmaid, that the pur
pose of holy virginity which, by thy inspiration, she
hath formed, she may, under thy governance, keep.
May there be in her, O Lord, by the gift of thy
Spirit, a prudent modesty, a serious gentleness, a
chaste freedom. May she be fervent in charity, and
love nothing beside Thee (extra te). May she study
so to live as that she may deserve praise without
being ambitious of it. In thy fear may she love
Thee above all things, and in love may she fear
Thee in all things. Be thou, 0 Lord, her rejoicing;
thou her comfort in sorrow; thou her counsel in
doubt. Be thou her defence against injury; in
poverty, abundance ; in fasting, food ; in sickness,
medicine. What she has professed, may she keep ;
so that she may overcome the old enemy, and purify
herself from the defilement of sin ; that she may be
adorned with fruit an hundredfold, with virgin
beauty, and the lamps of virtues, and may be

NO: VI.] GOD-DAUGHTER. 119
counted worthy to join the company of the elect
virgins.' And when they had all answered ' Amen,'
the holy pontiff, -kissing the forehead of the holy
virgin * * * *, dismissed her in peace."
As to all these collateral matters, however, I con
tent myself, for the present, with noticing them more
briefly than I could wish. This paper is already
longer than I expected it to have been, and than it
ought to be, considering that it is written in what I
hope the reader considers the worst possible style —
without any name of person or place, or any date,
or a single reference to any authority whatever. If
he has fairly got thus far, there is perhaps little use
— I wish there may be any courtesy — in telling him
that he might have skipped it ; that it is entirely
parenthetical, and intended only as an introduction
to another paper, in which I hope to explain why I
have written it, and to excuse myself for writing it
in such a manner.

120

No. YII.
" Vir bonus est quis ? " — Hoe.
The goldsmith,1 as I have already said, became a
bishop. It is not very surprising, and some perhaps
will say, "Yes, that was, of course, what he was
aiming at." For my own part I should very much
doubt it; at least, if he desired a bishopric, I do
not see any reason to suppose that he did. so from
sordid or unworthy motives. The lowest calcula
tion (for the point is disputed) makes him more
than fifty years of age when he was consecrated — of
money he seems to have possessed unlimited com
mand — the love of power, if he had it (though I
really know of nothing to show that he had), might
have been better gratified at court than in his diocese,
which can scarcely be supposed to have contained
such luxuries as the times afforded, and as he
might have enjoyed where he was. There is, more
over, another circumstance to which I cannot help

1 Here again I trust that I shall be pardoned if I retain the note
which Mr Bose appended to this paper, at its first publication. " It
may be doubted whether anything will induce many persons in this
age to read for themselves. If anything could, surely the simple
statement in this paper ought to have that effect. Here we find
not only an individual traduced, but, through him, the religious
character of a whole age misrepresented, and this misrepresentation
now generally believed. We find men leaving out what a writer
says, and then reproaching him and his age for not saying it. We
find Mosheim, Maclaine, Robertson, Jortin, White, mangling, mis
using, and (some of them) traducing a writer whose works not one
of them, except Mosheim (if even he), had ever seen. These things
are very serious. We may just as well, or better, not read at all,
if we read only second-hand writers, or do not take care that those
whom we do trust read for themselves, and report honestly. We,
in short, trust a painter who paints that black which is white, and
then think we have a clear idea of the object. — Ed."

NO. VII.] ST. ELIGIUS. 121
attaching considerable importance, both as it regards
this point, and as a mark of his character in general.
On the proposal being made, and whatever reluc
tance he might feel being overcome, he insisted on
a delay of two years, and during that period he
exercised the office of an ordinary priest. From a
¦consideration of all these circumstances, I am not
inclined to believe that he had any flagrant desire to
become a bishop, or was influenced by any sordid or
ambitious motive.
But, after all, how much there is in a name. No
doubt it is correct to say that he became a bishop ;
but the real idea would be much better conveyed by
saying that he turned missionary ; and, forsaking
all that the world had to offer, went to preach the
gospel among pagan barbarians. In fact, having
received episcopal consecration at the same time as
his noble young convert, he set off for his diocese,
and began to visit it diligently. At first, we are
told, the people, sunk in idolatry, received him with
hostility ; but, being gradually softened by his
preaching, a great part of them renounced idolatry,
and embraced Christianity.
But from this point what need is there to pursue
the details of his history ? The rest is known,
perhaps, at the antipodes ; at least, from the Ohio
to the Ganges, every reader of popular books has
been told how he preached. It is really curious to
observe by what apparently trifling incidents people
become notorious. Comparatively few persons take
the trouble to read about Clotaire and Dagobert,
and their goldsmith, and his noble convert Dado
{or St. Owen), and his foreman Tillo or St. Theau
the Saxon, and his god-daughter St. Hunegundis,
and the Abbess St. Aurea. But what reader of
Robertson's Charles the Fifth, or Mosheim' s History,
or Jortin's Remarks, or White's Bampton Lectures,
or other popular books (to say nothing of living
writers), has not heard of St. Eligius or Eloy,
^Bishop of Noyon ? And all because Mosheim — the

122 ROBERTSON AND [NO. VII.
only one of the writers mentioned who can be sus
pected of knowing anything about him — was pleased
to record that he had preached a bad sermon, and
to give a specimen of it. This scrap, as Dr. Lingard
has truly said, " holds a distinguished place in every
invective which has been published against the
clergy of former ages ; and the definition of a good
Christian has been echoed a thousand times by the
credulity of writers and their readers."2 Indeed,
the story has been so widely circulated, and, I
apprehend, so influential, that on coming to Robert
son's statement in the note next to that on which I
have been hitherto commenting, I cannot help
wishing and endeavouring to put the matter in a
truer light. Though, strictly speaking, it does not
immediately relate to that period of which I pro
fessedly write, yet this " hack story " should be
exposed, because many persons have read it
without knowing or attending to its date, and also

2 I copy these words from a note signed " Editor," and printed
on a cancel in the edition of Mosheim, Lond. 1826, vol. ii. p. 159.
When the leaf was changed I do not know, as it is only lately that
I met with the copy in which I saw it. I wish I could give the
space which the whole note would require; but the following
certificate in favour of Dr. Lingard I cannot persuade myself to
omit, not for his sake, but for the reader's : — " We are bound to
state, because we have ascertained the point, that he [Dr.
Lingard] has quoted the original fairly and correctly, according
to the best edition of the Spicilegium. — (Paris, 1723, 3 vols.
folio.) We are induced to mention this circumstance because
some protestant divines have been so eager to exculpate Dr.
Mosheim, that they have accused Dr. Lingard of following a
spurious edition, in which various interpolations might have been
made by the Romanists to support the credit of the early church.
We are aware that papists seem to have a fellow-feeling with their
religious ancestors [something, I suppose, connected with what
an old document calls " the communion of saints "], and are
frequently hurried by their zeal into misrepresentation, sometimes
into gross deviations from truth ; but it is certainly illiberal to
suspect them without cause [which he says there is], or to condemn
them without inquiry."

NO. VII.] ST. ELIGIUS. 123
because many — perhaps most — of those who do
know its date, have a general idea that matters, far
from improving, grew worse and worse for some
centuries. It seemed, however, desirable first to give
some account of this most unfortunate bishop, and
accordingly I did so in the preceding number, in
which I ventured to give his story anonymously,
because I was afraid that in some, at least, I should
excite unconquerable prejudice, if I mentioned a
name which has acquired such evil notoriety.3
But let us now inquire about his preaching.
Robertson had said in his text : —

" Even the Christian religion, though its precepts are delivered,
and its institutions are fixed in Scripture with a precision which
should have exempted them from being misinterpreted or corrupted,
degenerated during those ages of darkness into an illiberal super
stition. The barbarous nations when converted to Christianity
changed the object, not the spirit of their religious worship. They
endeavoured to conciliate the favour of the true God by means not
unlike to those which they had employed in order to appease their
false deities. Instead of aspiring to sanctity and virtue, which
alone can render men acceptable to the great author of order and
of excellence, they imagined that they satisfied every obligation of
duty by a scrupulous observance of external ceremonies. Religion,
according to their conception of it, comprehended nothing else ;
and the rites, by which they persuaded themselves that they could
gain the favour of Heaven, were of such a nature as might have
been expected from the rude ideas of the ages which devised and
introduced them. They were either so unmeaning as to be alto
gether unworthy of the Being to whose honour they were conse
crated, or so absurd as to be a disgrace to reason and humanity."
-CP- 19.)
A sad picture of religion truly, when it compre
hended nothing else beside what was either un-

3 The facts which I have stated respecting St. Eloy are to be
found in his Life, written by St. Owen, Archbishop of Rouen, in
D'Achery's Spicilegium, torn. ii. p. 76. Those which relate to St.
Tillo, or Theau, the foreman, and St. Hunegundis, the god
daughter, are in the second volume of Mabillon's A. S., 954, 977

124 ROBERTSON, MOSHEIM, [NO. VII.
meaning, or so absurd as to disgrace reason and
humanity ; but it is a note on the word " cere
monies," in the foregoing passage, with which we
are at present concerned ; he begins it by saying —
" All the religious maxims and practices of the dark ages are a
proof of this. I shall produce one remarkable testimony in con
firmation of it, from an author canonized by the church of Rome,
S. Eloy or Egidius,4 Bishop of Noyon, in the seventh century." —
(p. 236.)
But as he, and everybody else I believe, was
indebted to Mosheim, it may be as well at once to

4 So it stands in the original edition ; whether it has been
corrected in those which have followed I do not know ; nor can I
tell whether Robertson (who was not, I imagine, very familiar
with either St. Eloy or St. Giles) thought that he was correcting
a mistake by turning Eligius into Egidius ; but I cannot help
suspecting Maclaine of some such conceit when he turned the S.
Piato of Mosheim into St. Plato, as it stands in all editions which
I know, Cent. VII. part ii. c. 3, in a note which by itself might
settle the character of the " learned and judicious translator," as
Robertson calls him. It affords matter highly illustrative not
only of his learning and judgment, but of his taste. [The note
referred to is retained in the new edition of Dr. Murdock, edited
by Mr. Soames, since these papers were published, but with some
diminution of its low and filthy blackguardism ; but even as it now
stands, is such a phrase as "carcass-hunter of saints" proper?
Surely the most bitter puritanism might be satisfied to direct its
wrath against those who give undue, or give any, reverence to the
relics of God's saints ; but is it right to speak thus of the bodies
in which the Apostles of Christ shall be raised? But how
singular it is that those who write in this way generally stamp
their performances with some plain mark of ignorance. None of
the parties to the translation seem to have heard of Father
D'Achery. Maclaine takes it as it stands in Mosheim, and speaks
of " Dacherius' Spicilegium." Dr. Murdock, I suppose, translated
at a venture; but reinforced himself a little from the original,
where he found lvoab daohkrii, which (without assigning a full
equivalent to the Christian name) he put down as " Lu. Daehier."
Of course there is no credit in knowing Father D'Achery's works,
and no discredit in not knowing them ; but can those who really
do not know his name, have qualified themselves (whatever their
erudition of other kinds may be) with such knowledge as is needed
to write, to translate, or even to edit the Church History of the
middle ages ?]

NO. VII.]

AND ST. ELIGIUS.

125

give the original as it stands in his work, placing
beside it the passage as it stands in Robertson's
work : —

Mosheim.
" Bonus Christianus est, qui
ad ecclesiam frequentius venit,
et oblationem, quse in altari
Deo offeratur, exhibet, qui de
fructibus suis non gustat, nisi
prius Deo aliquid offerat, qui
quoties sanctse solemnitates ad-
veniunt, ante dies plures casti-
tatem etiam cum propria uxore
custodit, ut secura conscientia
ad Domini altare accederepossit,
qui postremo symbolum vel
orationem Dominicam memo
riter tenet.  Redimite animas
vestras de poena dum habetis in
potestate remedia - - oblationes
et decimas ecclesiis offerte,
luminaria Sanctis locis juxta
quod habetis exhibete ¦ ad ec
clesiam quoque frequentius con-
venite, sanctorum patrocinia
humiliter expetite  Quod si
observaveritis, securi in die
judicii ante tribunal seterni
jiidicis venientes dicetis : Da,
Domine, quia dedimus." — p.
269.

Robertson.
" He is a good Christian who
comes frequently to church ;
who presents the oblation which
is offered to God upon the altar ;
who doth not taste of the fruits
of his own industry until he has
consecrated a part of them to
God ; who, when the holy
festivals shall approach, lives
chastely even with his own wife
during several days, that with a
safe conscience he may draw
near to the altar of God ; and
who, in the last place, can
repeat the creed and the Lord's
prayer. Redeem, then, your
souls from destruction while
you have the means in your
power; offer presents and tythes
to churchmen ; come more fre
quently to church ; humbly im
plore the patronage of the
saints ; for if you observe these
things, you may come with
security in the day to the
tribunal of the eternal Judge,
and say, ' Give to us, O Lord,
for we have given unto Thee' "
—Vol. i. p. 236.

This, then, according to Robertson, is a " remark
able testimony in confirmation " of his assertion
that " all the maxims and practices of the dark
ages " are a proof that men " instead of aspiring
to sanctity and virtue, .... imagined that they
had satisfied every obligation of duty by a scrupulous
observance of external ceremonies." Let us, then,
look at it as it stands. Some of it appears to me
quite unobjectionable, and indeed, as far as I can
judge, there are only, or (to say the least) chiefly,

126 ST. ELIGIUS [NO. VII.
three points at which protestants would take
offence. 1. "Redeem, then, your souls from destruction
while the means are in your power ; offer presents
and tithes to churchmen." Pretty advice, truly —
it shows the cloven foot at once ; and the sordid,
grasping churchman stands out as plain as Robert
son, or Jortin, or any modern radical, could wish.
I say nothing, however, of Robertson's translating
" oblationes et decimas ecclesiis offerte," by " offer
presents and tithes to churchmen," for that (how
ever indicative of the animus) is quite unimportant
compared with his connecting the two things in
such a way as if Eligius had made the gift of pre
sents and tithes to churchmen the means of redeem
ing men's souls. Mosheim acts more fairly, for he
places two hyphens after the word " remedia," from
which his copyists should have learned that some
thing was omitted. In fact, the sentence stands,
" Redimite animas vestras de poena dum habetis in
potestate remedia ; eleemosynam juxta vires facite,"
&c, and the reference is evidently to Dan. iv. 24
(our version 27), " peccata tua eleemosynis redime."
2. " Humbly implore the patronage of the saints,"
is certainly an injunction which may properly offend
protestants ; but I need not, I presume, say that it
is not peculiar to St. Eligius or the dark ages — that
the error which it countenances had assumed foul
shapes of sin centuries before he was born, and still
flourishes in these enlightened days. I am not
undertaking to defend all that Eligius said, but
only to show the absurdity of bringing it forward
as peculiarly characteristic of his preaching, or of
his age. That it was not so, will as clearly appear
from the next point.
3. " Give to us, 0 Lord, for we have given unto
Thee." The words "unto Thee," are neither ex
pressed nor implied in the original, but inserted by
Robertson without any warrant whatever. The
idea, however, and even the mode of expressing it,

NO. VII.] HIS HOMILT. 127
was not characteristic of the age of St. Eligius.
Strange as it may seem in these days of high educa
tion and profuse literature, it cannot be denied that
during the dark ages preachers did sometimes make
bold to borrow a homily, or part of one, from their
predecessors ; and, in fact, this sermon of St.
Eligius (or part of it, including that with which we
are at present concerned) had belonged to Csesarius,
Bishop of Aries, who died about a hundred years
before Eligius became a bishop.5 He begins a
Homily on Almsgiving by saying that a gracious
and merciful God has provided a variety of ways
by which men may be enabled to procure the pardon
of their sins — " quibus possumus sine grandi labore
ac difficultate peccata nostra redimere," and he after
wards says, " Let him to whom God has given more
than necessaries hasten to redeem his sins with his
superfluity ; and let him who has it not in his power
to redeem captives, or to feed or clothe the poor,
harbour no hatred in his heart against any man;
but let him love, and never cease to pray for them ;
certain of the promise, or the mercy of his Lord,
with a free conscience he will be able to say, ' Give,
Lord, for I have given; forgive, for I have for-
5 >' 6
given. This was the language of Caasarius ; and I adduce
it merely to show the absurdity of bringing forward
the words as characteristic of St. Eloy and his age,
and in this view it may be worth while to add that

6 Cassarius was born in a.d. 469, and became Bishop of Aries in
a.d. 502, and died a.d. 542. Eligius became Bishop of Noyon,
according to the earliest date which I have seen assigned, in a.d.
635 (Chron. Elnon. ap. III. Mart. 1392) ; or, according to the
latest, which Cave states to be the most common, in the year 646.
He thinks, however, that Le Cointe has proved that the right date
is 640 ; and adds, that according to the same authority, Eloy lived
until a.d. 659 ; according to the most commonly received opinion
till 665 ; and according to others till 663.
6 Bib. Pat. ii. 285.

128 ST. ELIGIUS [NO. VII.
the language of some earlier, and more respected,
fathers did not, as far as I can see, very materially
differ from it.
The charge, however, against Eligius is not only,
and perhaps not principally, that his doctrine is
popishly heretical, but that it is grossly defective ;
he is much to blame, we are told, for what he says,
but much more to blame for what he does not say.
Robertson tells us, " The learned and judicious
translator of Dr Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History,
from one of whose additional notes I have borrowed
this passage, subjoins a very proper reflection — ' We
see here a large and ample description of a good
Christian, in which there is not the least mention of
the love of God, resignation to his will, obedience
to his laws, or of justice, benevolence, and charity
towards men.'" Jortin says, "As to true religion,
here is the sum and substance of it as it is drawn up
for us by Eligius, one of the principal saints of that
age ; " and, in his table of contents, this scrap is
referred to as " Eligius's system of religion." White,
in the notes to his Bampton Lectures (if they should
be called his), tells us that, "no representation can
convey stronger ideas of the melancholy state of
religion in the seventh century than the description
of the character of a good Christian by St. Eligius,
or Eloi, Bishop of Noyon."7
As to defectiveness, then, let it be observed in the
first place, that this scrap is but a very small part — •
as nearly as I can calculate not a hundredth part
— of a very long sermon ; or rather, as one might
suppose, from its prolixity and tautology, even if
the language of St. Eloy's biographer did not
suggest it, of several sermons mixed' up into one
great homily. If it were printed like Bishop Hors-
ley's Sermons, it would, I believe occupy just about
the fifty-six octavo pages which contain the first
three of them. Candour would suggest a possi-
7 Bampton Lectures, notes, p. 5.

NO. VII.] HIS HOMILY. 129
bility that the other ninety-nine parts might contain
something that would go towards supplying the
deficiencies of the scrap.
But this is not all ; or even what is most impor
tant. Mosheim printed the passage in such a way
as to show that there were some omissions, though
he did not indicate all. In Jortin's translation only
one mark of omission is retained ; and that is, be
tween the words " prayer " and " Redeem." In the
version given by Robertson, all such indications are
removed, and the scrap stands as one continuous
passage. White goes a step farther, and prints
the Latin text without any break or hint of omission.
Let us, therefore, see what is omitted in the part
which is professedly quoted ; and as that part is not
far advanced in the sermon, it will be best to begin
at the beginning. The part actually extracted by
Mosheim I mark by italics : —

" I beseech you, most dear brethren, and admonish you with
great humility, that you would listen attentively to those things
which I desire to suggest to you for your salvation. For Almighty
God knows that I offer them with fervent love towards you, and
were I to do otherwise I should undoubtedly be held to have failed
in my duty. Receive, then, what I say, not for my sake, who am
of little account, but for your own salvation, willingly ; at least,
in such a way that what you receive by the ear you may fulfil in
practice, so that I may be counted worthy to rejoice with you in
the kingdom of heaven, not only by my obedience, but through
your profiting by it. If there is any one of you who is displeased
that I persist in preaching to you so frequently, I beg him not to
be offended with me, but rather to consider the danger to which I
am exposed, and to listen to the fearful threatening which the
Lord has addressed to priests by his prophet, — ' If thou dost
not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall
die in his iniquity ; but his blood will I require at thine hand.
Nevertheless, if thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it ;
if he do not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity ; but
thou hast delivered thy soul.' — Ezek. xxxiii. 8. And that,
' Cry aloud, spare not, and show my people their sins.' — Is.
lviii. 1.
" Consider therefore, brethren, that it is my duty incessantly to
stir up your minds to fear the judgment of God, and to desire the
heavenly reward, that, together with you, I may be counted worthy
K

130 ST. ELIGIUS [NO. VII.
to enjoy perpetual peace in the company of angels. I ask you,
therefore, always to hold in dread the day of judgment ; and every
day to keep before your eyes the day of your death.
" Consider how far you would be fit to be presented before angels,
or what you would receive in return for your deserts, and whether
you will be able in that day to show that the promise of your
baptism has been kept unbroken. Remember that you then made
a covenant with God, and that you promised in the very sacrament
of baptism to renounce the Devil and all his works. Whosoever
was able then made this promise in his own person and for him
self. If any was unable, his sponsor, that is, he who received him
at his baptism, made these promises to God for him, and in his
name. " Consider, therefore, what a covenant you have made with God,
and examine yourselves whether after that promise you have been
following that wicked Devil whom you renounced. For you did
renounce the Devil, and all his pomps, and his works ; that is,
idols, divinations, auguries, thefts, frauds, fornications, drunken
ness, and lies, for these are his works and pomps. On the con
trary, you promised to believe in God the Father Almighty, and
in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, conceived of the Holy
Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary; that he suffered under Pontius
Pilate, rose from the dead on the third day, and ascended into
heaven ; and then you promised that you would believe also in the
Holy Ghost, the holy catholic church, the remission of sins, the
resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Without all
doubt this your covenant and confession which you then made will
never be lost sight of by God ; and, therefore, most dearly
beloved, I warn you that this your confession or promise should
always be kept in your own memory, that so your bearing the
Christian name, instead of rising in judgment against you, may be
for your salvation. For you are made Christians to this end, that
you may always do the works of Christ ; that is, that you may
love chastity, avoid lewdness and drunkenness, maintain humility,
and detest pride, because our Lord Christ both showed humility by
example and taught it by words, saying — ' Learn of me, for I am
meek and lowly in heart ; and ye shall find rest to your souls.'
(Matt. xi. 30.) You must also renounce envy, have charity among
yourselves, and always think of the future world, and of eternal
blessedness, and labour rather for the soul than for the body. For
the flesh will be only a short time in this world ; whereas the soul,
if it does well, will reign for ever in heaven ; but, if it does
wickedly, it will burn without mercy in hell. He, indeed, who
thinks only of this life is like the beasts and brute animals.
"It is not enough, most dearly beloved, for you to have received
the name of Christians, if you do not do Christian works. To be
called a Christian profits him who always retains in his mind, and
fulfils in his actions, the commands of Christ ; that is, who does
not commit theft, does not bear false witness, who neither tells lies

NO. VII.] HIS HOMILT. 131
nor swears falsely, who does not commit adultery, who does not
hate anybody, but loves all men as himself, who does not render
evil to his enemies, but rather prays for them, who does not stir
up strife, but restores peace between those who are at variance.
For these precepts Christ himself has deigned to give by his own
mouth, in the gospel, saying — ' Thou shalt do no murder, Thou
shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear
false witness, Thou shalt not swear falsely nor commit fraud,
Honour thy father and thy mother : and, Thou shalt love thy
neighbour as thyself.' (Matt. xix. 18, 19.) And also, * All
things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you; do ye
even so to them : for this is the law and the prophets.' (Matt.
vii. 12.)
" And he has given yet greater, but very strong and fruitful
(valde fortia atque fructifera) commands, saying — ' Love your
enemies, do good to them that hate you,' and ' pray for them which
despitefully use you and persecute you.' (Matt. v. 44.) Be
hold, this is a strong commandment, and to men it seems a hard
one ; but it has a great reward ; hear what it is — ' That ye may be,'
he saith, ' the children of your Father which is in heaven.' Oh,
how great grace ! Of ourselves we are not even worthy servants ;
and by loving our enemies we become sons of God. Therefore,
my brethren, both love your friends in God, and your enemies for
God ; for ' he that loveth his neighbour,' as saith the apostle,
' hath fulfilled the law.' (Rom. xiii. 8.) For he who will be a
true Christian must needs keep these commandments ; because, if
he does not keep them, he deceives himself. He, therefore, is a
good Christian who puts faith in no charms or diabolical inven
tions, but places all his hope in Christ alone ; who receives
strangers with joy, even as if it were Christ himself, because he
will say — ' I was a stranger, and ye took me in,' and, ' inasmuch as
ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have
done it unto me.' He, I say, is a good Christian who washes the
feet of strangers, and loves them as most dear relations ; who,
according to his means, gives alms to the poor ; who comes fre
quently to church : who presents the oblation which is offered to God
upon the altar ; who doth not taste of his fruits before he hath
offered somewhat to God ; who has not a false balance or deceitful
measures ; who hath not given his money to usury ; who both
lives chastely himself, and teaches his sons and his neighbours to
live chastely and in the fear of God ; and, as often as the holy
festivals occur, lives continently even with his own wife for some
days previously, that he may, with safe conscience, draw near to the
altar of God ; finally, who can repeat the Creed or the Lord's
Prayer, and teaches the same to his sons and servants. He who
is such an one, is, without doubt, a true Christian, and Christ also
dwelleth in him, who hath said, ' I and the Father will come and
make our abode with him.' (John xiv. 23.) And, in like manner,
he saith, by the prophet, ' I will dwell in them, and walk in them,

132 ST. ELIGIUS [NO. VII.
and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.' (2 Cor. vi.
16.) " Behold, brethren, ye have heard what sort of persons are good
Christians ; and therefore labour as much as you can, with God's
assistance, that the Christian name may not be falsely applied to
you ; but, in order that you may be true Christians, always meditate
in your hearts on the commands of Christ, and fulfil them in your
practice ; redeem your souls from punishment while you have the
means in your power ; give alms according to your means, main
tain peace and charity, restore harmony among those who are at
strife, avoid lying, abhor perjury, bear no false witness, commit no
theft, offer oblations and gifts to churches, provide lights for sacred
places according to your means, retain in your memory the Creed
and the Lord's Prayer, and teach them to your sons. Moreover,
teach and chastise those children for whom you are sponsors, that
they may always live with the fear of God. Know that you are
sponsors for them with God. Come frequently also to church;
humbly seek the patronage of the saints ; keep the Lord's day in
reverence of the resurrection of Christ, without any servile work ;
celebrate the festivals of the saints with devout feeling; love
your neighbours as yourselves ; what you would desire to be done
to you by others, that do to others ; what you would not have done
to you, do to no one ; before all things have charity, for charity
covereth a multitude of sins ; be hospitable, humble, casting all
your care upon God, for he careth for you ; visit the sick, seek out
the captives, receive strangers, feed the hungry, clothe the naked ;
set at nought soothsayers and magicians, let your weights and
measures be fair, your balance just, your bushel and your pint fair ;
nor must you claim back more than you gave, nor exact from any
one usury for money lent. Which, if you observe, coming with
security before the tribunal of the eternal Judge, in the day of Judg
ment, you moy say ' Give, Lord, for we have given ; show mercy,
for we have shown mercy ; we have fulfilled what thou hast com
manded, do thou give what thou hast promised.'"

I feel that by this extract I do very imperfect
justice to the sermon of St. Eloy; of which, indeed,
I might say that it seems to have been written as if
ne had anticipated all and each of Mosheim's and
Maclaine's charges, and intended to furnish a
pointed answer to almost every one. I feel it to
be most important to our forming a right view of
the dark ages, that such false statements respecting
the means of instruction and of grace should be
exposed ; but with so wide a field before us, I am

NO. VII.] HIS HOMILY. 133
unwilling, at present, to give more space than this
to one case, especially as I am anxious to get beyond
that part of the subject which consists in merely
contradicting misstatement ; but I cannot do so
until I have offered some remarks on the work
of a popular historian whom I have not as yet
noticed.

(Addition to the Second Edition.)
The passage in Mosheim which gave rise to this
paper is still retained without qualification or expla
nation in the " New and literal translation from the
original Latin, with copious additional notes,
original and selected, by James Murdock, D.D,,
edited, with additions, by Henry Soames, M.A.,
rector of Stapleford Tawney, with Thoydon Mount,
Essex," and published by Messrs. Longman and
others in the year 1841. I am tempted, therefore,
to give some further extracts which I made when
the paper was written, but which would have oc
cupied too much room in the magazine. But for
this I should then have produced proofs and illustra
tions of my statement, that the sermon seemed as
if it had been written to anticipate and refute the
charges of Mosheim.
In this new translation the passage to which the
note on St. Eligius is appended, stands as fol
lows : —
" During this century, true religion lay buried
under a senseless mass of superstitions ; and was
unable to raise her head. The earlier Christians
had worshipped only God, and his Son ; but those
called Christians in this age, worshipped the wood
of a cross, the images of holy men, and bones of
dubious origin. The early Christians placed heaven
and hell before the view of men ; these latter
depicted a certain fire prepared to burn off

134 ST. ELIGIUS [NO. VII.
the imperfections of the soul. The former
taught, that Christ had made expiation for the sins
of men, by his death and his blood ; the latter
seemed to inculcate, that the gates of heaven would
be closed against none who should enrich the clergy
or the church with their donations." — Vol. ii.
p. 93.
Now at this distance of time I do not pretend to
speak positively respecting the contents of this long
rambling discourse, which it is not worth while to
search over again minutely, in order to say whether
it contains one word about the wood of the cross, or
the images of the saints, or the dubious bones. I
really believe there is nothing of the kind ; but the
extracts which I have by me were, I think, made to
meet the statement that instead of having heaven
and hell set before them, the people were told about
a certain fire that was "to burn off the imper
fections of the soul." The reader will therefore
understand that I give them as illustrative of the
preacher's doctrine (if he can be said to have had
any) of purgatory; though at the same time they
may show us what he taught on some other subjects ;
and lead the reader very reasonably to disbelieve the
other charges made against him, all of which could
hardly be answered without extracting the greater
part of the Homily.

" Those whom you see to be good, do you imitate ; those whom
you see to be bad, chasten and rebuke ; that you may have a
double reward. And let him who has hitherto lived free from the
aforesaid evils rejoice, and give God thanks, and take care for the
future, and persevere with alacrity in good works ; but let him who
has hitherto lived in sin, quickly correct himself, and repent with
his whole heart before he departs this life ; for if he dies without
repentance he will not enter into rest, but will be cast into hell fire
(in gehennam ignis), whence he will never get out through all
eternity" (unde nunquam exiet in ssecula sasculorum). — p. 98 a.
After addressing magistrates, he says — " Considering these
things, brethren, both you who govern and you who are subject,
ground yourselves in the fear of God. Retain what has been said,

NO. VII.] HIS HOMILY. 135
do what is commanded, have Christ always in your mind, and his
mark on your forehead. Know that you have many adversaries
who are eager to impede your course ; therefore in all places and
at all times arm yourselves with the sign of the cross, fortify your
selves with the standard of the cross ; for this alone they fear,
this alone they dread, and this is given you as a shield whereby
you may quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. For the
mark of Christ is a great thing and the cross of Christ, but it
profits those only who keep the precepts of Christ. That it may
profit you, therefore, strive to fulfil his precepts with all your
might ; and whether you sit or walk, or eat, or go to bed, or get
up, always let the mark of Christ guard your forehead, that by the
recollection of God it may both protect you while waking and keep
you while asleep ; and as often as you wake in the night and sleep
flies from your eyes, immediately let the sign of the cross occur to
your lips and let your minds be occupied in prayers, and revolve
the commandments of God in your hearts, lest the enemy should
suddenly creep into your stupid breasts, or the eager adversary
twist himself into your soul through your foolish carelessness.
And when he suggests to your sense any evil thought, set before
yourself the future judgment of God, the punishment of hell, the
pains of Gehenna, the darkness of Tartarus, which the wicked
endure. If you do this, the evil thought will immediately vanish,
and the power of Christ will not desert you ; for that which the
prophet has said is true, ' He that trusteth in the Lord, mercy
shall compass him about.' " (Ps. xxxii. 10). — p. 98 b.
" Redeem yourselves while you live, for after death no one can
redeem you " (quia post mortem nemo vos redimere potest). — p.
99 b.
" In all these works of goodness which the Lord has commanded
you to perform, he seeks nothing from you but the salvation of
your souls, and that you may fear him always and keep his com
mandments [then after referring to and in great measure repeat
ing the blessing and the curse given by Moses, he proceeds :]
These things, therefore, brethren, always keep in mind, these words
repeat to your sons and your neighbours, remember them when
you sit in your houses, and when your walk, neither forget them in
your prosperity, but always fear God, and serve him alone, lest his
fury be kindled against you. Know that he keepeth covenant and
mercy towards those who love him and keep his commandments,
and heals all their sicknesses. Consider that, as the apostle John
forewarns, 'it is the last hour,' and therefore do not now love the
world, for it soon passeth away, and all the lust thereof with it.
But, do you do the will of God, that you may remain for ever, and
may have confidence when he shall appear, and not be confounded
at his coming. Let no man deceive you. He that doeth
righteousness is righteous, and he that committeth sin is of the
devil ; and certainly every sin, whether theft, or adultery, or
lying, is not committed without diabolical agency. Consider, I

136 ST. ELIGIUS [NO. VII.
beseech you, what a destructive thing it is to do the works of the
devil, and to become partaker with him, not in rest, but in the
punishment of gehenna. Therefore, whenever you sin, do not wait
in mortiferous security until your wounds putrefy, nor add others
to them, but immediately by the confession of repentance hasten
to obtain a remedy." — p. 100 a.
" Now, according to his unspeakable mercy, the Lord not only
admonishes, but entreats that we would be converted to him. Let
us therefore listen to him when he asks, lest if we do not, he
should not listen to us when he judges. Let us listen also to the
Scripture, which crieth out, ' My son, have pity on thine own soul,
pleasing God.'8 What wilt thou answer to this, O human frailty?
God entreats thee to pity thyself, and thou wilt not ; how shall he
hear thee supplicating in the day of necessity, when thou wilt not
hear him entreating for thyself ?" If you now neglect these things,
brethren, what will you do in the clay of judgment, or to what
refuge will you fly ? If, I say, you now neglect such exhortations
of God, you will not then esoape the torments of hell, nor can gold
or silver deliver you, nor those riches which you now secrete in
corners, and through the pride of which you become negligent of
your salvation. For hence, God saith by the prophet, ' I will visit
you with evil, and I will cause the arrogancy of the wicked to
cease, and will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible.' (Is. xiii.
11.) And again he admonishes, saying, ' Bring it again to mind,
0 ye transgressors ; cease to do evil, learn to do well ; relieve the
oppressed, defend the poor, and the widow, and the orphan ; deal
not by oppression with the stranger.'9 These things, therefore,
brethren, keep in mind. Hasten to observe them with all your
might. Fight as those who are separated from the devil. Be
joined to God, who has redeemed you. Let the Gentiles be
astonished at your conversation, and if they slander you, and even
if they mock you for performing the duties of Christianity, let not
that trouble you, for they shall give an account to God. Place,
therefore, all your hope in the mercy of Christ, and not only
abstain from every impure act, but also guard your minds from evil
thoughts ; for the Lord God is a righteous judge, and judgeth of
evil thoughts."— p. 101 b.

8 " Miserere animas tu® placens Deo." Ecclus. xxx. 23. Our
English version is, " Love thine own soul, and comfort thy heart ;
remove sorrow far from thee." v. 23. I give the Douay in the
text. 9 The passage stands, " Redite prsevaricatores ad cor ; quiescite
agere perverse, discite benefacere ; succurrite oppresso, defendite
pauperem et viduam, et pupillum ; et advenam nolite calumniari."
It will be seen that it is made up from Is. xlvi. 8, and i. 16, 17,
and Ezek. xxii. 7.

NO. VII.] HIS HOMILY. 137
" Moreover, that which is threatened by the voice of truth in
the gospel : ' they,' it saith, ' that do iniquity shall be cast into a
furnace of fire, where there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'
Consider, then, how fierce, how much to be dreaded that fire is ;
and let him who could not now bear to put even one of his fingers
in the fire, fear to be tormented there with his whole body for
ever " (in ssecula). — p. 102 b.
" But know that the soul when it is separated from the body, is
either immediately placed in paradise for its good deserts, or
certainly precipitated directly into hell for its sins." — p. 103 b.
Love therefore with all your hearts that eternal life which
through all ages you shall never bring to an end. Hasten thither,
where you shall ever live, and never fear death. For if you love
this wretched, fleeting life which you maintain with such labour — in
which by running about and bustling, by the sweat of your brow,
and working yourselves out of breath, you can scarcely provide the
necessaries of life — how much more should you love eternal life in
which you shall have no labour at all, where there is always the
highest security, secure happiness, happy freedom, free blessed
ness ; where shall be fulfilled that which our Lord saith in the
gospel, ' Men shall be like unto the angels ; ' like, indeed, not in
substance, but in blessedness? And that, 'then shall the just
shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.' What,
think you, will then be the splendour of souls, when the light of
bodies shall have the brightness of the sun ? There shall then be
no sorrow, no labour, no grief, no death ; but perpetual health
shall endure. There no evil shall arise, no misery of the flesh, no
sickness, no need of any kind ; there shall be no hunger, no thirst,
no cold, no heat, no faintness of fasting, nor any temptation of the
enemy ; nor then any will to sin, any possibility of defection ; but
there shall be fulness of joy, and exultation in all things ; and men,
associated with angels, shall be ever young in freedom from all
fleshly infirmity. Thejre, therefore, shall be solid joy, there secure
rest, there pleasure infinite ; where if it be once attained, there
shall be no chance of losing it throughout eternity, in that blessed
ness in which what is once gained shall be kept for ever. Nothing
is there more magnificent than that place, nothing more glorious,
nothing more bright, more beautiful, more true, more noble, nothing
more pure in excellence, nothing more abundant in fulness.
There always peace and the highest rejoicing. There is true and
certain happiness. There shall no longer be feared that most fierce
enemy who continually desires to destroy souls, nor shall the fiery
darts of the devil, or any temptations of the adversary, be any
longer dreaded. The cruelty of barbarians shall no more strike
terror, nor shall any adversity be thenceforth apprehended. There
shall be no fear of the sword, of fire, or the savage countenance of
the tormentor. No one in that glorious place shall want clothing ;
for there is there no cold nor heat, nor any change of climate. No
one there hungers, none is sad, none is a stranger ; but all who

138 ST. ELIGIUS [NO. VII.
shall be counted worthy to attain to that place shall live secure as
in their own country. The flesh shall no longer war against the
spirit, nor shall any danger be feared, but unspeakable rewards
with the angels shall be given by Christ; and 'what the eye hath
not seen,' saith the apostle, 'nor the ear heard, neither hath it
entered into the heart of man to conceive, what God hath prepared
for those who love him.' Behold what blessedness he will lose
who refuses now while he hath opportunity to amend himself. Let
us therefore, brethren, for whom so great blessedness is prepared
in heaven, disdain (the Lord being our helper) to be any longer
the servants of sin. While, then, there is time, let us hasten to
obtain the favour of God, let us despise earthly things, that we
may gain those which are heavenly ; let us think of ourselves as
pilgrims in this world, that we may the more cheerfully hasten
towards heaven ; for all the things which are here seen quickly
pass away, and will be gone like a shadow." — p. 103 b.
After quoting Matt. xxv. of our Lord's advent»
he proceeds : —
" Then when all are looking, he will show the wounds and the
holes of the nails in that body undoubtedly the same in which he
was wounded for our transgressions ; and addressing the sinners
he will then say — ' I formed thee, 0 man, with my hands from the
dust of the earth, and placed thee amidst the delights of a para
dise, which thou didst not deserve ; but thou, despising me and
my commands, didst prefer to follow a deceiver ; wherefore, being-
condemned to just punishment, thou wast appointed to the tor
ments of hell. Afterwards, pitying thee, I became incarnate, I
dwelt on earth among sinners, I bare scorn and stripes for thee.
That I might save thee, I underwent blows and spitting. That I
might gain for thee the sweets of paradise, I drank vinegar and
gall. For thee I was crowned with thorns, fastened to the cross,
wounded with the spear. For thee I died, was laid in the grave,
and descended into hell. That I might bring thee back to para
dise, I went to the gates of hell ; that thou mightest reign in
heaven, I penetrated the infernal deep. Acknowledge, then, oh
human impiety, how much I have suffered for thee. Behold the
wounds which I received for thee, behold the holes of those nails
fastened by which I hanged on the cross. I bare thy griefs, that I
might heal thee ; I underwent punishment, that I might give thee
glory ; I submitted to death, that thou mightest live for ever ; I
lay in the sepulchre, that thou mightest reign in heaven. All
these things I bare for you ; what more than these things should
I have done for you that I have not done ? Tell me now, or show
me, what you have suffered for me, or what good you have done for
yourselves. I when I was invisible did, of my own will, become

NO. VII.] HIS HOMILY. 139
incarnate on your account ; though I was impassible, for you I
condescended to suffer ; when I was rich, for your sakes I became
poor. But you, always despising both my humility and my com
mandments, have followed the seducer rather than me ; and now
behold my justice cannot adjudge to you anything else than what
your works deserve to receive. Take, then, what you have chosen ;
you have despised light, possess darkness ; you have loved death,
go iato perdition ; you have followed the devil, go with him into
eternal fire.' What, think you, will then be the grief, what the
lamentation, what the sadness, what the distress, when this sen
tence shall be given against the wicked ? For then shall be to the
wicked a grievous separation from the sweet company of the saints ;
and, being delivered over to the power of demons, they will go in
their own bodies with the devil into eternal punishment, and will
remain for ever in lamentation and groaning. For being far
exiled from the blessed country of Paradise, they will be tormented
in hell, never again to see light, never to obtain a time of refresh
ing, never to end their punishment, never to arrive at rest ; but
through thousands of thousands of years to be tormented in hell,
nor ever, through all eternity, to be delivered. Where he that
torments is never tired, and he that is tormented never dies. For
there the fire so consumes that it still reserves ; torments are so
inflicted as that they may be for ever renewed. According to the
quality of his crimes, however, each one will there suffer the
punishments of hell ; and those who are guilty of the like sins
will be associated together in punishment. Nothing will be heard
there but weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. There
will be no consolation, nothing but flames and the terrors of
punishments, and the wretched ones will burn without end in
eternal fire through all ages. But the just shall go into life
eternal, and without doubt in that very same flesh which they here
had, and shall be associated with holy angels in the kingdom of
God, appointed to perpetual joys, never again to die, no more to
see corruption, but always filled with the joy and sweetness of
Christ, they shall shine as the sun in the brightness and glory
which God has prepared for those who love him. And the more
obedient to God any one hath been in this life, so much the larger
reward shall he receive ; and the more he hath loved God here.
the more nearly shall he then see him.
" Behold, most dearly beloved, I have foretold you plainly, so
that you may understand what things shall happen to every one.
No one can now plead ignorance, for life and death are set before
you ; the punishments of the wicked and the glory of the just are
told you, — now it remains for your choice to take which you please ;
for each will surely then possess that which he hath desired and
endeavoured after here." — p. 104 b.
These are not all the passages which might be

140 ST. ELIGIUS. [NO. VII.
quoted to the same effect ; but surely they are more
than enough, and such in quality as to warrant my
saying that they seem as if they had been written
purposely to anticipate, and refute, the charge that
the preachers, of whom St. Eloy is given as a
specimen, instead of placing " heaven and hell be
fore the view of men," only " depicted a certain
fire prepared to burn off the imperfections of the
soul."

141

No. VIII.
" A modern author, who writes the history of ancient times, can
have no personal knowledge of the events of which he writes ; and
consequently he can have no title to the credit and confidence of
the public, merely on his own authority. If he does not write
romance instead of history, he must have received his information
from tradition — from authentic monuments, original records, or the
memoirs of more ancient writers — and therefore it is but just to
acquaint his readers from whence he actually received it." —
Henry.
In the preceding paper, I expressed my design to go
on from Robertson to another popular writer ; and I
now beg to call the reader's attention to the historian
from whom I have borrowed my motto. In that part
of his History of England which treats of the tenth
century, Henry compassionately says : —
" That we may not entertain too contemptible an opinion of our
forefathers, who flourished in the benighted ages which we are now
examining, it is necessary to pay due attention to their unhappy
circumstances. To say nothing of that contempt for letters which
they derived from their ancestors, and of the almost incessant
wars in which they were engaged, it was difficult, or rather impos
sible, for any but the clergy, and a very few of the most wealthy
among the laity, to obtain the least smattering of learning ; be
cause all the means of acquiring it were far beyond their reach. It
is impossible to learn to read and write even our own native tongue,
which is now hardly esteemed a part of learning, without books,
masters, and materials for writing ; but in those ages, all these
were so extremely scarce and dear, that none but great princes and
wealthy prelates could procure them. We have already heard of a
large estate given by a king of Northumberland for a single
volume ; and the history of the middle ages abounds with examples
of that kind. How, then, was it possible for persons of a moderate
fortune to procure so much as one book, much less such a number
of books as to make their learning to read an accomplishment that

142 henry's [no. viii.
would reward their trouble ? It was then as difficult to borrow
books as to buy them. It is a sufficient proof of this that the king
of France was obliged to deposit a considerable quantity of plate,
and to get one of his nobility to join with him in a bond, under a
high penalty, to return it, before he could procure the loan of one
volume, which may now be purchased for a few shillings. Materials
for writing were also very scarce and dear, which made few persons
think of learning that art. This was one reason of the scarcity of
books ; and that great estates were often transferred from one
owner to another by a mere verbal agreement, and the delivery of
earth and stone, before witnesses, without any written deed. Parch
ment, in particular, on which all their books were written, was so
difficult to be procured, that many of the MSS. of the middle
ages, which are still preserved, appear to have been written on
parchment from which some former writing had been erased." —
Book ii. ch. iv. vol. iv. p. 80.
After what I have said in former papers, it is, I
trust, quite unnecessary to make a single remark on
all this ; which I transcribe and set before the
reader, instead of asking him, as I should other
wise have done, to turn back to the statements of
Robertson, which I have from time to time quoted,
and to see how far, when read off without any ex
planation, they are calculated to give a true view of
things. Henry has, however, one " hack story," of
which I must take particular notice ; for, notwith
standing the false impression conveyed by such
absurd matter as that which I have just quoted,
there is really more mischief done by the little
pointed anecdotes with which some popular writers
pretend to prove or to illustrate their sweeping
statements. These stories are remembered by their
readers, and the semblance of particular and detailed
truth in one instance, gives sanction and weight to
a whole string of false and foolish assertions about
the general state of things. Perhaps it might be
enough to refer the reader back to the instance of
the Abbot Bonus ; 1 but instead of that we will have
an entirely new story, from Henry.
1 See No. IV. p. 63.

NO. VIII.] HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 143
Having told us that —
" All the nations of Europe were involved in such profound
darkness during the whole course of the tenth century, that the
writers of literary history are at a loss for words to paint the
ignorance, stupidity, and barbarism of that age" — (Book ii. c. 4.
vol. iv. p. 67).
and having, in proof of this, referred to " Cave
Histor. Literar. p. 571, Brucker Hist. Philosoph.
t. 3. p. 632," he adds on the next page —
" The clergy in this age were almost as illiterate as the laity:
Some who filled the highest stations in the church could not so
much as read ; while others, who pretended to be better scholars,
and attempted to perform the public offices, committed the most
egregious blunders ; of which the reader will find one example,
out of many, quoted below."
At the foot of the page, we find the following
note : —

" Meinwerc, Bishop of Paderborn, in this century, in reading
the public prayers, used to say, — ' Benedic Domine regibus et
reginis mulis et mulabis \_sic~] tuis : — ' instead of ' famulis et
famulabis ; \_sic~] ' which made it a very ludicrous petition. —
Leibniz Coll. Script. Brunswic, t. i. p. 555."

Very ludicrous indeed — What an odd person
Bishop Meinwerc must have been, and what a very
strange habit to fall into — but, without attempting
to account for it, farther than by saying, " it was
his way," may we not draw three inferences from it
— first, that if Meinwerc habitually made this blunder,
he made a thousand others like it; secondly, that
what he did, all the other bishops did ; thirdly, that
if the bishops were so ignorant, the priests and
deacons, to say nothing of the laity, were infinitely
worse ? Are not these fair deductions ?
And yet, to say the truth, when I consider that

144 henry's account [no. viii.
my inquiry is not whether there were any ignorant,
stupid, incompetent persons in the dark ages ; but
whether there were not some of a different character,
I feel inclined to claim, or at least to cross-examine,
this witness. I cannot but think that the story,
even as it stands, may be fairly made to say some
thing in my favour. If the bishop did make this
blunder, it seems that he had, at least, one hearer
who knew that it was a blunder, and who thought it
worth while to note it down as such ; which, more
over, that hearer would hardly have done if con
scious that he was the only person capable of seeing
its absurdity. Besides, if this is only " one example
out of many," there must have been persons in
various places equally competent to detect such
errors ; and who, like the critic of Paderborn,
thought them worth recording. So that, in propor
tion as the recorded blunders of this kind are
numerous, we may be led to suspect a thicker and
more extensive sprinkle of better-instructed persons.
I know not how else to account for the fact that
such things were seen and recorded as errors ; un
less, indeed, we assume the existence of some one
individual " George Seacoal," whose reading and
writing in this dark age came " by nature ;" and
suppose him to have circuited about with " the
lanthorn" which he had in charge, in order to
" comprehend all vagrom men " who broke the
bounds of grammar, and who has certainly acted up
to the very letter of his instructions, by letting his
reading and writing " appear where there is no need
of such vanity ;" for what in the world did it matter
to Bishop Meinwerc's flock whether he said mulis or
famulis, if neither he nor they knew the differ
ence ?
We cannot, however, well understand this story
without paying some attention to the circumstances
of the bishop ; and it is quite within the limits —
indeed in the very heart — of our subject, to inquire

NO. VIII.] OP BISHOP MEINWERC. 145
into the proceedings of any prelate who was born in
the tenth century, though not (as Henry makes him)
a bishop until the eleventh. I might fairly inflict
on the reader a long pedigree, and trace up the
Bishop of Paderborn to the great Duke Witikind ;
but it may suffice for our present purpose to say,
that he was born in the reign of the Emperor Oth o
II. , and was his second cousin once removed ;
Theoderic, the father of the Empress Matilda, the
wife of Henry the Fowler, being their common
ancestor. His father, Imed, intending that Thie-
deric, the elder of his two sons, should succeed him in
his honours and possessions, devoted Meinwerc, at
an early age, to the clerical function, and offered
him, in his childhood, in the Church of St. Stephen,
at Halberstadt. There he received the first rudi
ments of his education ; but was afterwards removed
to Hildesheim, where, among many other school
fellows, who afterwards took a leading part in the
world, he had his third cousin, Henry, Duke of
Bavaria, afterwards Emperor, better known under
the title of St. Henry.2

2 I should have thought that there was such a difference
between the ages of Meinwerc and the emperor, as could not have
allowed of their being school-fellows. But the author of the life
to which Henry refers, so distinctly states not only that it was so,
but that it was in the time of Otho the Second, that I do not know
how to dispute it, though I cannot reconcile it even with the dates
which he gives himself in various parts of his work. He says
that Meinwerc went to Hildesheim, " ubi Heinricus filius Ducis
Bajoarias Henrici, cum aliis plurimis honori et decori ecclesiae
Christi suo tempore profuturis, secum theorise studiis continuam
operam dedit. . . . Acceptus autem de scholis, vixit in prasdicta
Halverstadensi Ecclesia sub Prarposito canonicas legis, omnibus
carus et amabilis, aspectu et colloquio affabilis, actu et eloquio
irreprehensibilis. Eo tempore monarchiam Romani Imperii Otto
ejusdem nominis secundus strenue gubernabat." — p. 519. It is
not worth while to discuss the chronology of the matter. If it be
a mistake to suppose that the emperor and the bishop were school
fellows, it is beyond all doubt that they were cousins and play
fellows.

146 BISHOP MEINWERC. [NO. VIII.
Otho II. died in a.d. 983, and was succeeded by
his son, Otho III. ; who called his kinsman, Mein
werc, to court, and made him his chaplain. In this
situation he is said to have been esteemed and
respected by all, and particularly beloved by his
royal master and cousin, who enriched him with
most liberal presents, in proof of his affection —
" quod videlicet suam vitam diligeret ut propriam."
On the death of that Emperor, in a.d. 1002, among
many candidates for the empire, the successful one
was Henry of Bavaria, who was related to Meinwerc
in precisely the same degree as his predecessor in
the empire had been, and who was perhaps bound
to him by what is often the closer and stronger tie
of school-fellowship. The chaplain became the in
separable companion of his royal master — " de Karo
fit Karissimus ; factusque est ei in negotiis publicis
et privatis comes irremotissimus."
After some time — that is to say, in the year 1009
— the see of Paderborn became vacant by the death
of Rhetarius, who had been bishop for twenty years.
Messengers from the church announced the fact to
the emperor, who was then at Coslar, and prayed
him to appoint a successor. This, however, was
not so easy a matter; for, about nine years before,
the city of Paderborn had been burned ; and the
noble monastery, containing the cathedral, had been
all but entirely destroyed. Rhetarius had, indeed,
done what he could with the pope, and the Emperor
Otho III. ; and had obtained from them (what was,
no doubt, very important as far as it went) a full
confirmation to the church of all the rights and
property which it had possessed before the con
flagration ; but it does not appear that he got any
thing from them towards repairing losses. When,
however, Henry, his successor, came to the throne
of the empire, he made it his study and his business
to advance the interests of the church ; and when
Rhetarius applied to him, he gave him a forest.

NO. VIII.] BISHOP MEINWERC. 147
When he came at another time to beg for his
church, the emperor not having (as the historian
says with great simplicity) at the moment anything
which he could conveniently give him (rege autem
in promptu quod daret non habente), his chaplain,
Meinwerc, gave his royal master a farm, whicli
belonged to himself, which the emperor immediately
transferred to the bishop.
Still, notwithstanding the exertions of Rhetarius,
the see remained in a state of wretched poverty as
long as he lived ; and it was difficult to know how
to fill up the vacancy occasioned by his death. The
emperor having, however, convened such bishops
and princes as attended him at Coslar, consulted
with them as to the appointment of a bishop who
should be most suited to the circumstances of time
and place. After long deliberation, and canvassing
the merits of a good many persons, all agreed that
Meinwerc was the fittest man. In coming to this
decision, they were avowedly influenced by his rank
and wealth; but it is only justice to him to say,
that I find nothing against his moral character, nor
even anything which should authorize me to say
that he had not a true zeal for Cod, though it might
not be, in all respects, according to knowledge.
The council, however, were unanimous ; and the
emperor (faventibus et congratulantibus omnibus)
sent for the chaplain ; and, when he came, smiling
with his usual kindness, he held out a glove, and
said — " Take this." Meinwerc, who can hardly be
supposed to have been quite ignorant of what was
going on, and who understood the nature of the
symbol, inquired what he was to take. " The see
of Paderborn," replied the emperor. The chaplain,
with all the freedom of a kinsman and old school
fellow, asked his royal master how he could suppose
that he wished for such a bishopric, when he had
property enough of his own to endow a better.
The emperor, with equal frankness, replied that

148 BISHOP MEINWERC. [NO. VIII.
that was just the very thing that he was thinking of
— that his reason for selecting him was that he
might take pity on that desolate church, and help it
in its need. "Well, then," said Meinwerc, heartily,
" I will take it on those terms ; " and then and there
— namely, at Coslar, on the next Sunday, being the
second Sunday in Lent, and the thirteenth of March,
1009 — he was consecrated Bishop of Paderborn, by
Willigisus, Archbishop of Mentz, and the other
bishops who were there.
" Being therefore," says his biographer, " raised to
the episcopal office, he constantly watched over the
flock committed to him ; and, fearing lest he should
incur the reproach of the slothful servant, who hid
his lord's money in a napkin, he did nothing
remissly. As to external duties, in the general
government of the clergy and people, he laboured
diligently with heart and body in his episcopal
superintendence ; and, as to internal labours, he
without ceasing made intercession to Grod for them
all, by watchings, fastings, and the sacrifice of
prayers." He immediately made over his here
ditary property to the see; and on the third day
after his arrival he pulled down the mean beginnings
of a cathedral, which his predecessor had built up,
and erected one at great expense, and with singular
magnificence — sumptu ingenti et magnificentia
singulari. His personal attention to the work, and
his kindness to the workmen, made the building go
on rapidly ; and he did not fail to call upon the
emperor, who frequently came to Paderborn, and
took great interest in its proceedings, for his
full share of the expense ; and Henry and his
empress, Chunigunda, contributed largely and
willingly. A circumstance which occurred during one of
the emperor's visits tends so much to illustrate the
character of the bishop, and of the times, that I am
induced to transcribe it. It quite belongs to our

NO. VIII.] BISHOP MEINWERC. 149
subject ; and, indeed, to our immediate purpose, so
far as it shows that Meinwerc was rather a severe
disciplinarian, and that if he performed the services
of the church disreputably himself, he did not allow
others to do it, or even to run the risque of it, with
impunity. There was in those days an eccentric
saint — or the church of Rome has made him
one since — named Heimrad. He was a native of
Swabia, and, as far as I know, a good sort of
fanatic. After wandering about, and doing a
great many strange things, he settled down in a
little cell, or hut, at Hasungen. Previously to this,
however, in the course of his rambles, he came to
Paderborn, and suddenly made his appearance before
the bishop ; who, being startled at the sight of his
sickly countenance and his long figure, rendered
ghastly and unsightly by fasting and rags, inquired
whence "that devil" had risen. Heimrad having
meekly replied that he was not a devil, the bishop
inquired if he was a priest; and learning that he
had that day celebrated mass, he immediately ordered
that the books which he had used should be pro
duced. Finding that they were written in a slovenly
manner, and were of no value (incomptos et neglectos
et nullius ponderis aut pretii), he caused them to be
immediately put in the fire ; and, by command of
the Empress, who sympathized with the " just zeal"
of the bishop, he farther ordered that the unlucky
priest should be flogged.
After this, Count Dodico, of Warburg (a person
of some consequence in the early history of the see
of Paderborn), invited the bishop to keep the feast
of St. Andrew, at his castle ; and on the very eve of
the festival, whom should the bishop see seated
opposite to him, at supper, but this identical
Heimrad. He was not a little moved, and inquired
what could induce a man of his host's respectability
to keep such company; and then, breaking out into
severe abuse of the poor solitary, he called him a

150 BISHOP MEINWERC. [NO. VIII.
crazy apostate. Heimrad took it all very quietly,
and said not a word ; but Count Dodico began to
apologize to the bishop, for whom he had a sincere
respect, and endeavoured to soothe him by assur
ances that he had no idea that the recluse was in any
way offensive to him. All his endeavours were,
however, in vain, and the bishop was not to be
appeased. On the contrary, he declared that as
people chose to consider Heimrad as a saint, he
would put him to the test ; and, in the presence
of all the company, he ordered that he should sing
the Hallelujah at mass the next day, on pain of being
flogged. The Count at first attempted to beg him
off ; but finding that he only added fuel to the flame,
he took the recluse apart, as soon as lauds were
over, and endeavoured to console him. He besought
him to bear this trial as one of those which are ap
pointed for the purification of the saints — to make
the attempt, beginning in the name of the Trinity,
and trusting in God for the event. Heimrad did
not at all like the prospect, and earnestly requested
leave to creep away quietly to his cell at Hasungen ;
but at length, overcome by the Count's entreaties,
he acquiesced. When the time came, another
attempt was made to beg him off; but the bishop
continuing inexorable, he began, and in fact chanted
the whole with such propriety, and in so agreeable
a manner, that the company were astonished, and
declared that they had never heard sweeter modu
lation from any man. The bishop, as soon as
mass was over, taking Heimrad aside, fell at his
feet, and having humbly asked, and quickly ob
tained, pardon for his conduct towards him, became,
from that time forth, his constant and faithful
friend. But, though I give these anecdotes as character
istic of the bishop and the times, and therefore illus
trative of our subject, it will be mfce immediately to
our present purpose to give one o\te b> which show

NO. VIII.] BISHOP MEINWERC. 151
the terms on which the bishop stood with the
emperor, and some passages which occurred between
them. Those terms cannot, perhaps, be more
briefly or more clearly explained, than by saying
that these two schoolfellows still behaved to each
other rather more in the manner of schoolboys than
was quite becoming in a bishop and an emperor, as
will appear ; but first, let me premise that from the
time when he became Bishop of Paderborn, Mein
werc seems to have devoted himself — that is, his
property, his time, his thoughts, words, and deeds, — ¦
to the aggrandizement of his see. He was, his
biographer tells us, skilful in getting all that was to
be had, as well as faithful in taking care of what he
had got — " in acquirendis utilis, in conservandis
fidelis."3 As to the latter point, many stories are recorded
which show that he laboured most energetically in
conducting the affairs of his diocese, which he seems
to have governed with an extraordinary degree both
of severity and kindness, so as to have been, in a
peculiar degree, a terror to evil-doers, and a praise
to those who did well. He superintended, in person,
the buildings which the circumstances already
mentioned required, until he had got them so far
advanced that he could be spared to look after the
country estates of the diocese ; and then perpetually
visiting them, from time to time, he took care that
all things were managed decently and in order, and

3 It might perhaps be said of him, as it was of an abbot of much
the same period — " cum esset vir strenuus, et suam rempublicam
semper augmentare toto anhelaret desiderio." — Mab. A. S. torn. vi.
p. 405. Such hints as these contain a good deal, and are a key to
a good deal more, and must be borne in mind when we read such
notes as I have adverted to in the note, p. 124, about carcass-hunt
ing bishops who wanted "to amass riches." What did they want
the riches for ?

152 BISHOP METNWERC. [NO. VIII.
raised the serfs to a degree of comfort which they
had not before enjoyed. Once, riding through one
of the farms belonging to the bishopric, he told some
of his companions to ride their own, or to turn some
loose, horses into some corn, which was being
thrashed under cover; saying, that if the serfs
were faithful, they would resist them, but if they
were unfaithful to the steward, they would rejoice
in a mischief which would bring loss upon him. The
serfs, however, under pretence of paying their
obeisance to the bishop, all ran away; and the
horses began to devour and trample on the corn.
The bishop immediately taxed the labourers with
their want of faith, had them severely flogged, and
then gave them an uncommonly good dinner (ciborum
copiis abundantissime reficiens), and a paternal
admonition on fidelity to their master; all which
together had so excellent an effect, that when he
next visited the place he found himself shut
out by their faithful vigilance, and was obliged
to make his way into the premises by stealth.
Having done so, he heard the woman of the
house complaining that the labourers on that
farm had nothing but a very spare allowance of
meal ; whereupon he ordered that two of the
gammons of bacon which the steward was bound
to furnish every year should be detained for
them. I should like to gossip on with an account of his
visits to other farms, and to tell how he once got
into the kitchen of his monastery by himself, and
investigated the contents of the pots which were
boiling at the fire, in order to see that his monks had
proper food ; and how, at another time, he went
there in a lay habit, to have a little chat on the same
subject with the cook, who, in reply to his inquiries,
informed him that the living there was very good as
concerning the soul, but very poor in respect of the
body ; and how — for he seems always to have been

NO. VIII.] BISHOP MEINWERC. 153
on the alert — he went through his diocese in the dis
guise of a pedlar, in order that he might see for
himself how things were going on. I should like, I
say, to transcribe some of these anecdotes, for they
are really — not like some which we find produced
as such — characteristic of the times; but I am
afraid of being tedious ; and whatever might be his
care in preserving, it is more to our purpose to show
that he was diligent in acquiring. In that matter, he
did not spare his imperial schoolfellow. Indeed,
there seems to have been an understanding — or,
in the language of the schools, they seem to have
" made it fair " — between them, that the bishop
should get all he could by force or fraud, and that
in return the emperor should love him heartily,
growl at him occasionally, and now and then make
a fool of him. As to the latter point, however, the
emperor seems generally to have had the worst of it
in the long run, as will appear from one or two
instances. Once, when Henry was going to hear mass at the
cathedral, he ordered the altar to be decked with the
costly apparatus of royalty, and bade his people keep
a sharp look-out, lest the bishop should get hold of
anything, as he was very apt to do. Meinwerc said
mass himself, and after the Agnus Dei, he entered
the pulpit, and began to discuss the difference
between the imperial . and sacerdotal dignity, and
the superiority of the latter, affirming that matters
of divine right were above human authority, and
showing by the canons that whatsoever was conse
crated to the uses of divine service was under the
sacerdotal jurisdiction. He therefore put under a
bann all the ecclesiastical ornaments and priestly
vestments which had just been used, and threatened
with excommunication any person who should remove
them. On another occasion, the emperor sent him, after
vespers, his own golden cup, of exquisite workman-

154 BISHOP MEINWERC. [NO. VIII
ship, full of drink,4 charging the messenger not to
see his face again without the cup. The bishop
received the present with many thanks, and got the
messenger into a long chat, during which he seems
to have forgotten the business which brought him
there, and the emperor's charge — at least, somehow
or other, he went away without the cup — and the
bishop, taking care to have the doors fastened after
him, sent immediately for his goldsmiths, Brunhard,
and his son, Erpho, and in the course of the night,
which immediately preceded Christmas-day, the cup
was converted into a chalice. One of the emperor's
chaplains, who officiated as sub-deacon at mass the
next day, recognized the cup, and took it to the
emperor, who charged the bishop with theft, and told
him that God abhorred robbery for burnt-offering.
Meinwerc replied that he had only robbed the vanity
and avarice of Henry, by consecrating their subject
to the service of God; and dared him to take it
away. " I will not," said the emperor, " take away
that which has been devoted to the service of God ;
but I will myself humbly offer to him that which is
my own property ; and do you honour the Lord,
who vouchsafed as on this night to be born for the
salvation of all men, by the performance of your own
duties." At another time, the emperor had a mantle of
marvellous beauty, and exquisite workmanship.
Meinwerc had often begged it for his church in
vain; and therefore, on one occasion, when the
emperor was intent on some particular business, he
fairly snatched it from his person, and made off with
it. The emperor charged him with robbery, and

4 The laxity with which writers of this age use the word
" sicera " sanctions the ambiguous expression which I use. If
not very elegant, it is better than talking of beer between such
parties.

NO. VIII.] BISHOP MEINWERC. 155
threatened to pay him off for it some time or other.
Meinwerc replied that it was much more proper that
such a mantle should hang in the temple of God,
than on his mortal body, and that he did not care
for his threats. They were, however, carried into
execution in the following manner : — " The emperor
knowing that the bishop, being occupied in a great
variety of secular business, was now and then guilty
of a barbarism, both in speaking and in reading
Latin, with the help of his chaplain effaced the
syllable fa from the words famulis and famulabus,
which form part of a collect in the service for the
defunct, in the missal ; and then called on the bishop
to say a mass for the souls of his father and mother.
Meinwerc, therefore, being unexpectedly called on to
perform the service, and hastening to do it, read on
as he found written, mulis and mulabus, but, per
ceiving the mistake, he repeated the words correctly.
After mass, the emperor said, in a sarcastic manner,
to the bishop, ' I asked you to say mass for my
father and mother, not for my male and female
mules.' But he replied, 'By the mother of our
Lord, you have been at your old tricks, and have
made a fool of me again ; and now, in no common
way, but in the service of our God. This he who is
my Judge has declared that he will avenge ; for that
which is done to him he will not pass by unpunished.'
Thereupon, he immediately convened the canons in
the chapter-house of the cathedral, ordered the
emperor's chaplain, who had been a party to the
trick, to be most severely flogged ; and then, having
dressed him in new clothes, sent him back to the
emperor to tell him what had happened."5

5 " Sciens autem Imperator, episcopum ssecularibus negotiis
multipliciter occupatum, tam latinitatis locutione quam in lectione
barbarismi vitia non semel incurrere, de missali in quadam collecta
pro defunctis fa de famulis, et famulabus, cum capellano suo delevit,
et episcopum pro requie animarum patris sui et matris missam

156 BISHOP MEINWERC. [NO. VIII.
And here, good reader, you have, I believe, the
whole and sole foundation for the notable story of
Bishop Meinwerc and his mules. If you have been
at church as often as you should have been in these
five years past, perhaps you have heard King George
prayed for by men who were neither stupid nor
careless ; but who were officiating from a book which
had not been corrected. I am sure I have heard it
within these six months ; — but there is no need to
apologize for the bishop.
" Oh ! but he ' used to say ' this." Well, that is
one of those things which, as they admit of only one
reply, very commonly receive none at all from civil
people. " But it is only ' one example out of many.' "
Perhaps so ; but I really do not recollect any story
like it, except the notorious mumpsimus, and one
which looks almost like another version of what we
have just had, and which I know only from its being
quoted by Lomeier,6 in connection with another

celebrare rogavit. Episcopus igitur ex improviso missam celebrare
accelerans, ut scriptum reperit mulis et mulabus dixit; sed errorem
recognoscens, repetitis verbis, quod male dixerat, correxit. Post
missam insultans Imperator Pontifici, ' Ego,' inquit, ' patri meo et
matri, non mulis et mulabus meis, missam celebrari rogavi.' At
ille, ' Per matrem,' ait, ' Domini, tu more solito iterum illusisti
mihi, et non quoquo modo, verum in Dei nostri servitio. Cujus ero
vindex, en promittit meus judex. Namque sibi factum non
pertransibit inultum.' Illico canonicis in capitolium principalis
ecclesise convocatis, capellanum Imperatoris, hujus rei conscium,
durissime verberibus castigari jussit, castigatumque novis vestibus
indutum ad Imperatorem, nuntiaturum quas facta fuerant, remisit."
I suspect that the reply of Meinwerc, from the word " Cujus," &c,
is a quotation from some hymn ; though it is printed like prose,
and certainly can hardly be called verse.
6 De Bibliothecis, cap. viii., de Bibliothecis sub ipsa barbarie, p.
147. [It is a pity not to have as many such good stories as we
can, and therefore I add one which I have met with since I wrote
the foregoing paragraph. Bruno, in his account of the Emperor
Henry IV., who reigned from a.d. 1056 to a.d. 1106, tells us, that

NO. VIII.] BISHOP MEINWEEC. 157
dark-age anecdote which is too good to be passed
by, and which shows, in dismal colours, the horrible
ignorance of the clergy. " A certain bishop, named
Otto, is said to have recommended a clerk to
another bishop for an ecclesiastical office in these
terms— f Otto Dei gratia, rogat vestram clementiam,
ut velitis istum clericum conducere ad vesirum
diaconum' The words being abbreviated, the
clerk, who was directed to read it to the bishop,
read thus : — ' Otto Dei gram rogat vestram clam ut
velit istum clincum clancum convertere in vivum diabo-
lum! '' The other story is of a clerk, who turned
Sueno, king of Norway, into a mule by the same
mistake as Meinwerc's. As to the truth or falsehood
of these statements, I have never inquired ; and I
have not, at present, the means of consulting the
author to whom Lomeier refers.
But is it not lamentable that learned men should
credit and circulate such stories ? I do not mean
Henry ;7 for, notwithstanding what he says, and
what I have quoted at the head of this paper, I do
not believe that he really took the story from the
book to which he refers. I think I know where he

among his other wicked deeds, he appointed to the see of Bamberg
(tam rebus exterius divitem, quam sapientibus personis intus
venerabilem) an ignoramus, who read out in divine service (coram
sapientibus clericis) that the earth, instead of being void, vacua,
was a cow, vacca. " Ipse," adds the indignant historian, " nimirum,
licet bipes, vacca bruta et omni probitate vacua." — (Saxon.
Belli Hist. ap. Freh. Ger. Rer. Ser. Tom. I. p. 179 ; old Ed.
p. 105.) Surely there must have been some critical ears in those
days.] 7 And still less Mr. Andrews, already introduced to the reader as
a retailer of such things. He prefaces this perverted story by
saying, "The prelates set examples of the most gross want of
common literature. Mein-hard, Bishop of Paderborn, used to
read," &c. Yet he gives no reference but to the original. Does
anybody believe that he had seen it ?

158 BISHOP MEINWERC. [NO. VIII.
picked it up ; and I believe it is more charitable —
at least it is imputing what is, of the two, least
disgraceful — -to suppose that he took the story
(notwithstanding his profession quoted as the motto
to this paper) from a respectable writer, than to
suppose that he made up the falsehood himself from
such an original as he refers to, and I have just
transcribed. He had (as I have stated near the be
ginning of this paper, p. 143) almost immediately
before quoted Brucker's History of Philosophy, Vol.
III. p. 632, and on the 634th page of that same
volume, and in the section entitled " Facies literarum
et philosophic seeculo X.," stands this very story
of Meinwerc in these terms — " Meinwercum episco
pum Paderbornensem ne recte legere quidem po-
tuisse, et in psalterio legisse : Benedic Domine regi-
bus et reginis mulis et mulabus tuis, pro famulis et
famulabus tuis." Brucker's reference is, " In eius
vita in Leibniz. Coll. Script. Brunsuic. T. I. p. 555."
And, really, if it were in any way possible, I should
believe that Brucker had had some other edition, or
some other authority, for the story. He tells us that.
it was in the psalter, and affects to give us the
words. Henry seems to have been sensible of the
absurdity of this ; and, not knowing what particular
part to substitute, he says, it was " in the public
prayers." I speak thus, because I cannot doubt
that he took it from Brucker, though not perhaps
immediately; and my belief is strengthened by a
trifling circumstance, which is perhaps worth
mentioning, because it is desirable to trace error
when we can. Who has not heard of Leibnitz?
Thousands have known the philosopher by name or
character, who never took the trouble to learn that
he was librarian of the Royal and Electoral Library
of Brunswick- Luneburg, and who never had the
pleasure of reading his three folios containing the
" Scriptores Rerum Brunsvicensium illustrationi in-
servientes ; "—his name is familiar ; but how often

NO. VIII.] BISHOP MEINWERC. 159
have they seen it spelt (by any writer of English,
to say the least) without at? He calls himself, on
the title-page of this work, " Leibnitius ; " and I do
not remember ever to have seen his name without
the t, except in this very volume of Brucker, and in
Henry's reference.
I must, however, notice that Brucker adds to his
account of the matter, " unde vix credi potest quod
idem vita? Meinwerci scriptor refert, ' studiorum
multiplicia sub eo floruisse exercitia, et bonos indolis
juvenes et pueros strenue fuisse institutos. ' " In
credible as this might appear to Brucker, it is
certainly true that the same authority which tells
us that Meinwerc was guilty of occasional bar
barisms in speaking and reading Latin (which im
plies that he was not unfrequently called on to do
both), also assures us that he was a promoter of
education. Indeed, the foolish trick which has
given rise to all this discussion, was not such as to
have been worth playing, or as was likely to have
been even thought of, among perfectly illiterate
barbarians. What wit or fun could there be in
leading a man into a blunder, which nobody could
know to be a blunder ? The same authority tells
us, that the schools of Paderborn, then founded,
became more famous in the time of Imadus, who
was the nephew and successor of Meinwerc, and
brought up by him ; " sub quo in Patherbornensi
ecclesia publica floruerunt studia : quando ibi musici
fuerunt et dialectici, enituerunt rhetorici, clarique
grammatici; quando magistri artium exercebant
trivium, quibus omne studium erat circa quadrivium ;
ubi mathematici claruerunt et astronomici, habebantur
physici, et geometrici: viguit Horatius, magnus et
Virgilius, Crispus ac Salustius et Vrbanus Statius :
Ludusque fuit omnibus insudare versibus, et dicta-
minibus jocundisque cantibus. Quorum in scriptura
et pictura jugis instantia claret multipliciter hodierna
experientia dum studium nobilium clericorum usu

160 BISHOP MEINWERC. [NO. VIII.
perpenditur utilium librorum." Make what allow
ance you like for exaggeration, but let the words
have some meaning ; and if you do this you
will never be able to make them square with the
letter, still less with the spirit, of these absurd
stories.

161

No. IX.
" LI. Attate ! modo hercle in mentem venit.
Nimis vellem habere perticam. LE. Quoi rei 1 LI. Qui ver-
berarem Asinos." — Plautus.

There is one of Robertson's proofs and illustrations,
which I intended to notice, but I really forgot it
when I passed on to Henry's history of England — a
blunder the more stupid, because it is another note
immediately following the note respecting St. Eloy ;
and I actually quoted the text to which it belongs,
and in which Robertson tells us, that " the external
ceremonies, which then formed the whole of religion,
were either so unmeaning as to be altogether un
worthy of the Being to whose honour they were
consecrated, or so absurd as to be a disgrace to
reason and humanity." The note is as fol
lows : —

" It is no inconsiderable misfortune to the church of Borne,
whose doctrine of infallibility renders all such institutions and
ceremonies as have been once universally received immutable and
everlasting, that she must continue to observe in enlightened times
those rites which were introduced during the ages of darkness and
credulity. What delighted and edified the latter, must disgust
and shock the former. Many of these rites appear manifestly to
have been introduced by a superstition of the lowest and most
illiberal species. Many of them were borrowed, with little varia
tion, from the religious ceremonies established among the ancient
heathens. Some were so ridiculous, that, if every age did not
furnish instances of the fascinating influence of superstition, as
well as of the whimsical forms which it assumes, it must appear
incredible that they should ever be received or tolerated. In
several churches of Prance, they celebrated a festival in com
memoration of the Virgin Mary's flight into Egypt. It was called
the feast of the Ass. A young girl richly dressed, with a child
M

162 THE FEAST OP THE ASS. [NO. IX.
in her arms, was set upon an ass superbly caparisoned. The ass
was led to the altar in solemn procession. High mass was said
with great pomp. The ass was taught to kneel at proper places ;
a hymn no less childish than impious was sung in his praise : And,
when the ceremony was ended, the priest, instead of the usual
words with which he dismissed the people, brayed three times like
an ass ; and the people, instead of their usual response, We bless
the Lord, brayed three times in the same manner. Du Cange,
voc. Festum v. iii. p. 424. This ridiculous ceremony was not, like
the festival of fools, and some other pageants of those ages, a
mere farcical entertainment exhibited in a church, and mingled, as
was then the custom, with an imitation of some religious
rites ; it was an act of devotion, performed by the ministers
of religion, and by the authority of the church. However,
as this practice did not prevail universally in the Catholic Church,
its absurdity contributed at last to abolish it." — p. 237.
I copy this note, not so much as a specimen of
broad, barefaced falsehood, or gross mistake, such
as I have before presented to the reader's notice, —
though, as it regards the misrepresentation of facts,
it is worth looking at, — as for some other reasons,
which will, I hope, appear satisfactory.
First, however, as to the fact, — which it is always
well to examine in such cases, — that is, in all
" wonderful-if-true " stories, told by persons of
whose knowledge or veracity we have any doubt.
The reader is welcome to put this rule in practice
with regard to myself, and my communication, for
he may naturally be somewhat incredulous when I
tell him that the Eeast of the Ass was not " a
festival in commemoration of the "Virgin Mary's
flight into Egypt," — that the Virgin Mary had
nothing to do with the matter, and, so far as
appears, was not even mentioned in it, — and that
the Ass from whom the festival derived its name
was not that on which she fled into Egypt (if,
indeed, any such ass ever existed), but the ass of
Balaam. Of this whoever pleases may satisfy
himself by turning to Du Cange, as cited by
Robertson. Secondly, as to the fact. — Though Robertson

NO. IX.] THE FEAST OF THE ASS. 163
cites Du Cange, it is not for the Feast of the Ass,
but for the story about the " young girl richly
dressed," &c. ; which (though Robertson has con
founded the two things) had nothing whatever to
do with the Feast of the Ass, and is not mentioned,
or even alluded to, by Du Cange. I do not mean
to be hypercritical, or quibbling. There is an
account of this folly at the volume and page of the
book which we may familiarly call " Du Cange," —
that is, the Benedictine edition of Du Cange's
Glossary, which expanded his three folios into ten,
— but it is important to observe, that the account
of this custom formed no part of the original work ;
and that, therefore, the custom itself may be
presumed to have been unknown to Du Cange ; and
how far anything of that kind, which was at all
general, or of long standing, was likely to have
escaped him, those who are even slightly acquainted
with his Glossary will be able to judge.
Thirdly, as to the fact. — Du Cange does give,
from the Ordinal of the Cathedral of Rouen, the
office (or more properly, the rubric — or, more
properly still, the stage-directions of the office)
appointed for the Feast of Asses ; which was a
sort of interlude performed in some churches at
Christmas. I do not know whether it would be
possible now to learn what was said or sung by the
various characters, as the account of Du Cange
contains only the rubric, and the initiatory words
of each part ; but the dramatis personse appear to
have been numerous and miscellaneous ; and I can
only account for the total absence of the Virgin
Mary by supposing that it arose from superior
respect. There were Jews and Gentiles as the
representatives of their several bodies, Moses and
Aaron, and the Prophets, Virgilius Maro, Nebuchad
nezzar, the Sibyll, &c. Among them, however, was
Balaam on his ass ; and this (not, one would think,
the most important or striking part of the show)

164 THE FEAST OF THE ASS. [NO. IX.
seems to have suited the popular taste, and given
the name to the whole performance and festival.
I should have supposed, that Nebuchadnezzar's
delivering over the three children to his armed men,
and their burning them in a furnace made on
purpose in the middle of the church, would have
been a more imposing part of the spectacle ; but I
pretend not to decide in matters of taste, and
certainly Balaam's ass appears to have been the
favourite.1 The plan of the piece seems to have
been, that each of the persons was called out in his
turn to sing or say something suitable to his
character ; and among others, " Balaam ornatus
sedens super asinam (hinc festo nomen) habens
calcaria, retineat lora, et calcaribus percutiat asinam,
et quidam juvenis, tenens gladium, obstet asina;.
Quidam sub asina dicat, Cur me calcaribus miseram
sic lseditis ? Hoc dicto Angelus ei dicat, Desine
Regis Balac prseceptum perficere. Vocatores Balaun,
Balaun, esto vaticinans. Tunc Balaun respondeat,
Exibit ex Jacob rutilans," &c.
I am afraid that some persons give me credit for
defending a good deal of nonsense; and, therefore,
let me say at once, that I am not going to defend
this. I acknowledge that it was nonsense — nonsense
that came very near, if not to actual, profaneness,
at least to something like the desecration of holy
things. The age, I admit, was dark; the performers
were probably ignorant ; in short, the reader may

1 Indeed, he seems to be always a favourite with the public, and
to give the tone and the title wherever he appears. The ass is
the only link which unites these two stories, and in each he seems
to be put forth as the principal character. So it was, when, in the
twelfth century, an order of monks was formed, whose humility (or
at least their Bule) did not permit them to ride on horseback.
The public (I hope to the satisfaction of the humble men) entirely
overlooked them, eclipsed as they were by the animals on which
they rode, and called it Ordo Asinorum.

NO. IX.] THE FEAST OF THE ASS. 165
say what he pleases of the Feast of Asses, and of
all the animals, biped or other, concerned in it, if he
will only bear in mind one other fact, — a fact almost
incredible, perhaps, to those who do not know how
Robertson muddled the chronology of his proofs
and illustrations, yet very true, — namely, that, not
withstanding all he had said about the period from
the seventh to the eleventh century, and the imme
diate connexion about heathen converts retaining
their barbarous rites — notwithstanding all this, the
Ordinal of Rouen, which is Du Cange's sole
authority on the subject, is a MS. of the fifteenth
century. How long the Feast of Asses had been
celebrated at that time 1 really do not know ; and I
shall be obliged to anybody who will tell me2 — nor
do I know how long it was suffered to continue —
but that it flourished when this MS. was written
seems clear ; and to bring it forward as a special
and characteristic sin of the dark ages, is too
bad. Fourthly, as to the fact. — Though the Feast of
Asses had nothing to do with the flight of the
Virgin, yet that latter event was celebrated, it
appears, in some churches in the diocese of Beauvais,

2 The following passage from Warton's History of Poetry lias
been cited against me : — " Grosthead, bishop of Lincoln in the
eleventh century, orders his dean and chapter to abolish the
Pbstum Asinorum, cum sit vanitate plenum, et voluptatibus spurcum,
which used to be annually celebrated in Lincoln Cathedral, on the
Feast of the Circumcision. Grossetesti Epistol. xxxii. apud
Browne's Fascicul. p. 331. edit. Lond. 1690. torn., ii. Append.
And p. 412." Vol. II. p. 367. Beside the general issue that
Warton's authority in such matters is not worth a rush, it may be
pleaded in this particular case, first, that Bishop Grosteste's letter
does not belong to the eleventh, but the thirteenth century ; and,
secondly, that it says not a word of the Feast of Asses, but only
of the Feast of Fools, which was a totally different matter. I
believe that this blunder is corrected in the octavo edition of
Warton's History, published in 1840.

166 THE FEAST OF THE ASS. [NO. IX.
on the 14th of January, with some of the absurdities
mentioned by Robertson. This, at least, is stated
by the editors of Du Cange; who give no account
of their authority, or any idea of its date, except
that for the " hymn no less childish than impious "
which they quote, they say that they have the
authority of a MS. five hundred years old ; which
of course throws the matter back into the thirteenth
century.3 They add, that the same silly ceremony
was performed in the diocese of Autun ; but for
this they give no authority at all. Such appears to
have been the extent of the custom ; as to its
duration I am unable to judge. It may have
existed through all the dark ages, but I do not
remember to have met with any trace of either
custom ; and the fact, that neither Du Cange nor
his editors appear to have known of their earlier
existence, is ground for a presumption that they did
not, in fact, exist before the times which have been
mentioned. One more observation as to the fact — " The ass
was taught to kneel at proper places." I must say
I doubt it. It may not be impossible, but I suspect
it is very difficult, to make that class of animals do
such a thing. Indeed, I think the reader who turns
to Robertson's authority will agree with me in
supposing, that he was led to make this statement
merely by his misunderstanding the marginal direc
tion annexed to one verse of the hymn, " hie
genuflectebatur." But having thus observed on the facts, let us now
notice the animus and the modus ; — the facts are, as
we have seen, absurdly misstated ; but what are we

3 Should this meet the eye of any gentleman whose reading in
early French has enabled him to judge, from the language, as to
the date of the song in question, I should feel much obliged by his
referring to it, and communicating his opinion.

NO. IX.] THE FEAST OF THE ASS. 167
to say of the design, and the manner, of introducing
those facts ? It is really necessary to say very
little on this point, though it is principally for this
that the matter is worth noticing at all. Who can
help seeing the absurdity of introducing this asinine
business by a sober reflection on the practical evils
of assuming infallibility, with its attributes of per
petuity and immutability ; and then telling us, that
what is apparently given as an example (for why,
else, is it given at all ?) never was general, and was,
after a while, abandoned. But what is the obvious
animus ? Why did not Robertson, instead of
throwing the whole odium of this nonsense on the
church, tell his readers that this ass was patronized
by the people — that he was the pet of the laity —
and that, with natural and characteristic obstinacy,
and, cheered by the love and sympathy of his lay
friends, he kept his ground against the ecclesiastical
powers which would have turned him out of the
church ? Why did he not add the statement of
those from whom he borrowed the story — " Haec
abolere censuris ecclesiasticis non semel tentarunt
episcopi, sed frustra, altissimis quippe defixa
erat radicibus donee supremi Senatus accessit
auctoritas, qua tandem hoc festum suppressum
est?" Having said thus much of Asses, let us proceed
to speak of Fools. Robertson says, just in the way
of passing allusion, that the Feast of Asses " was
not, like the Festival of Fools, and some other
pageants of those ages, a mere farcical entertainment,
exhibited in a church, and mingled, as was then the
custom, with an imitation of some religious rites."
In saying that these festivals differed, Robertson is
right. The Feast of the Ass, and the more ridicu
lous custom of the girl at Beauvais, which he
describes, were, I believe, instituted by Christians
in a comparatively late age of the church. From
what has been said, at least, it appears that the

168 THE FEAST OF FOOLS. [NO. IX.
Feast of Asses flourished in the fifteenth, and the
other follies in the thirteenth century, in some part
of France. But the Feast of Fools was a more
ancient and more widely celebrated festival ; which
may, perhaps, be more or less traced in all ages of
the church, and in all parts of Christendom. Even
now, I suppose, there is hardly a parish church in
our protestant country which does not annually
exhibit some trace or relic of it. Notwithstanding
the decrees of Councils, and the homilies of Fathers,
the Christmas evergreen, — the viriditas arborum, —
which they denounced, still keeps its ground.
The Feast of Fools (the Festum Fatuorum, or
Stultorum) was, in fact, the old heathen festival of
the January Calends. Some ingenious persons have
employed themselves in showing that every ceremony
and observance of the Romish church (that is, every
ceremony and observance which they do not see in
their own day, and their own parish church or
meeting) is a genuine pagan rite, adopted from the
heathen. Others, with as much facility and truth,
prove that every particular is Jewish. I have
neither the taste nor the learning required for such
an undertaking, and if I had it would be sadly out
of place here. The same persons would, I hope, be
consistent enough to admit that the people of the
dark ages, whatever ceremonies or observances they
might introduce, did not borrow either from pagans
or Jews — for who knew the classics — who read the
bible — in those days ? So it, evidently, is not my
present business ; but I wish that someone would
give us a true and full account of the insinuation,
modification, or extirpation, of gentilisms in the
Christian church, at the same time tracing their
causes, history, and effects. As to our present
business, however, I will pass over all the earlier
councils and fathers ; 4 but as I should wish to give
4 The reader who wishes to follow out this subject will find
abundant indication of sources by referring to Du Cange in v.

NO. IX.] THE FEAST OF FOOLS. 169
a specimen of the resistance made by the church to
this pagan folly, I am glad to be able to give at the
same time a farther extract (it happens to be the
immediate continuation of what I gave at p. 132)
from the well-known, or at least much talked-of,
sermon of St. Eloy. I have already stated that,
about the year 640, he became the bishop of a
people, many of whom were newly and scarcely
converted from heathenism. If I carry on the
quotation a few lines farther than the matter for
which it is especially quoted, and the immediate
subject of this paper may seem to require, those
who have read Nos. VI. and VII., and who at all
understand my motive, and the drift of these
papers, will perceive my reason for doing so.
" Before all things, however, I declare and testify unto you, that
you should observe none of the impious customs of the pagans ;
neither sorcerers,8 nor diviners, nor soothsayers, nor enchanters ;

Kalendm ; or by looking at Bingham's Antiquities, b. xvi. ch. iv.
sect. 17, and b. xx. ch. i. sect. 4. In less than two hours, how
ever, he may become pretty well acquainted with this part of the
subject by reading the Homily of Asterius, which is, of all that I
know, the thing best worth reading, and which he may find in the
Bibliotheca Patrum, torn. xiii. p. 590, of the Paris ed. of 1633, or
a Latin translation of it in Baynaud's edition of Leo Magnus.
Next to this in value (and it may be found in the same edition of
Leo, and, I believe, in the largest Bib. Pat., but I am sorry to say
I have not the means of ascertaining), is the Homily on the
Circumcision, by Maximus Taurinensis, at p. 198 of his Homilies;
and if the reader has Mabillon's Museum Italicum, let him look
at torn. i. par. ii. p. 17. The same edition of Leo also contains
the sermons of Petrus Chrysologus, the 155th of which is worth
reading. These, with the 62nd canon of the council in Trullo
(Lab. Cone. vi. 1169), will, I think, put the reader in possession
of most that is known on the subject. It may seem a good allow
ance for two hours ; but, in fact, I might have said one, for all the
things referred to are very short.
5 The following note was appended by Mr. Bose to this passage :
— " If anyone will take the trouble to refer to the writers of the
eleventh century, especially Peter of Blois, he will find a constant

170 st. elot's sermon on [no. IX.
nor must you presume for any cause, or any sickness, to consult or
inquire of them ; for he who commits this sin immediately loses
the sacrament of baptism. In like manner, pay no attention to
auguries and sneezings ; and, when you are on a journey, do not
mind the singing of certain little birds. But, whether you are
setting out on a journey, or beginning any other work, cross your
self in the name of Christ, and say the Creed and the Lord's
Prayer with faith and devotion, and then the enemy can do you no
harm. Let no Christian observe the day on which he leaves, or
returns, home ; for God made all the days. Let none regulate the
beginning of any piece of work by the day, or by the moon. Let
none on the Calends of January join in the wicked and ridiculous
things, the dressing like old women, or like stags,6 or other
fooleries, nor make feasts lasting all night, nor keep up the custom
of gifts 7 and intemperate drinking. Let no Christian believe in

condemnation of superstitious usages and customs ; and if he will
go back much farther, to Theodore's Pwnitentiale, in the seventh
century, he will find the same doctrine. — Ed."
6 Vetulas aut cervolos. — The council of Auxerre (an. 378) had
decreed — " Non licet Kalendis Januarii vetula aut cervolo facere."
Lab. Con. v. 917. Some would read this as vitulas, and suppose
it to mean assuming the appearance, or sacrificing, a calf. But
certainly the wearing of female attire by men was one great feature
of the festival. Isidore (about the end of the sixth century) says
— " Tunc enim miseri homines, et, quod pejus est, etiam fideles,
sumentes species monstruosas, in ferarum habitu transformantur ;
alii foemineo gestu demutati virilem vultum effceminant." De
Eccl. Offic. lib. ii. c. 40. (Bib. Pat. x. 200.) Alcuin, nearly two
centuries after, has almost the same words ; but it is worth while
to remark that he changes transformantur and effceminant, into
transformabant and effaminabant ; in fact, he says, — " Domino
largiente, haac a fidelibus pro nihilo habentur, licet quantulsecunque
similitudines, quod absit, adhuc lateant in feris hominibus." De
Div. Off. (Ibid. p. 229.) The reader will observe that I put some
words of the extract in the text in italics without any note, by
which I wish to express that I do not know what they mean. This
is not the place to discuss the conjectures of others, or to offer my
own. 7 Strenas. — What Asterius says on this point is worth reading.
When he says that children were taught to love money by being
permitted to go round from house to house collecting it, in return
for nominal presents, one is led to think of Christmas-boxes;
which, indeed, as well as new year's gifts, seem to be genuine
remains of the custom.

NO. IX.] GENTILE SUPERSTITIONS. 171
puras, nor set amidst their singing, for these are the works of the
Devil. Let no one on the festival of St. John, or on any of the
festivals of the saints, join in solstitia, or dances, or leaping, or
caraulas,8 or diabolical songs. Let none trust in, or presume to
invoke, the names of daemons ; neither Neptune, nor Orcus, nor
Diana, nor Minerva, nor Geniscus, nor any other such follies. Let
no one keep Thursday as a holy-day, either in May, or at any other
time (unless it be some saint's day), or the day of moths and
mice, or any day of any kind, but the Lord's Day. Let no
Christian place lights at the temples, or the stones, or at fountains,
or at trees, or ad cellos, or at places where three ways meet, or
presume to make vows. Let none presume to hang amulets on the
neck of man or beast ; even though they be made by the clergy,
and called holy things, and contain the words of Scripture ; for
they are fraught, not with the remedy of Christ, but with the
poison of the Devil. Let no one presume to make lustrations, nor
to enchant herbs, nor to make flocks pass through a hollow tree, or
an aperture in the earth ; for by so doing he seems to consecrate
them to the Devil. Let no woman presume to hang amber beads
on her neck ; or in her weaving, or dyeing, or any other kind of
work, to invoke Minerva, or the other ill-omened persons ; but let
her desire the grace of Christ to be present in every work, and
confide with her whole heart in the power of His name. If at any
time the moon is darkened, let no one presume to make a clamour;
for, at certain times, it is darkened by the command of God.
Neither let anyone fear to set about any work at the new moon ;
for God has made the moon on purpose to mark the times, and to
temper the darkness of the nights, not to hinder anybody's work,
nor that it should make any man mad, as foolish persons think,
who suppose that those who are possessed by devils suffer from the
moon. Let none call the sun or moon 'Lord; ' nor swear by them,
for they are creatures of God ; and, by the command of God, they
are subservient to the necessities of men. Let no man have his
fate or his fortune told, or his nativity, or what is commonly called
his horoscope, so as to say that he shall be such as his horoscope
shall indicate ; for God will have all men to be saved, and come to
the knowledge of the truth, and wisely dispenses all things even
as He hath appointed before the foundation of the world. More
over, as often as any sickness occurs, do not seek enchanters, nor
diviners, nor sorcerers, nor soothsayers, or make devilish amulets
at fountains, or trees, or cross-roads ; but let him who is sick trust
only ip. the mercy of God, and receive the sacrament of the body
and blood of Christ with faith and devotion ; and faithfully seek

8 I will not here repeat the arguments of those who make this
word mean charms or dances, but I cannot help thinking of and
mentioning Christmas carols.

172 st. eloy's sermon on [no. IX.
consecrated oil from the church, wherewith he may anoint his body
in the name of Christ, and, according to the apostle, ' the prayer
of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up ; ' and
he shall receive health not only of body but of mind, and there
shall be fulfilled in him that which our Lord promised in the
gospel, saying, ' for all things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer,
believing, ye shall receive.'
" Before all things, wherever you may be, whether in the house,
or on a journey, or at a feast, let no filthy or lewd discourse pro
ceed out of your mouths ; for, as our Lord declares in the gospel,
for every idle word which men shall speak on earth, they shall give
account in the day of judgment. Forbid also the performance of
all diabolical games, and dances, and songs of the heathen. Let
no Christian perform them, because by them he becomes a heathen ;
for indeed it is not right that from a Christian mouth, which
receives the sacraments of Christ, and which ought always to
praise God, diabolical songs should proceed. And therefore,
brethren, eschew with your whole heart all inventions of the Devil,
and fly from all the impieties which I have mentioned, with horror.
You must show reverence (venerationem exhibeatis) to no creature
beside God and His saints. Destroy the fountains which they call
sacred ; forbid them to make the images of feet which they place
at the parting of roads, and if you find them, burn them with fire.
Believe that you cannot be saved by any other means than by call
ing on Christ, and by His cross. For what a thing it is that if
those trees, where these miserable men pay their vows, fall down,
they will not use them to make their fires. And see how great the
folly of the men is, if they pay honour to an insensible and dead
tree, and despise the commands of Almighty God. Let not any
man, then, believe that the heaven, or the stars, or the earth, or,
in short, any creature whatsoever, is to be adored (adorandam)
except God ; because He, by Himself alone, created and arranged
them. The heaven, indeed, is high, the earth great, the sea
immense, the stars are beautiful; but He who made all these things
must needs be greater and more beautiful. For if these things
which are seen are so incomprehensible — that is, the various
produce of the earth, the beauty of the flowers, the diversity of
fruits, the different kinds of animals — some on the earth, some in
the waters, some in the air — the skill of the bees, the blowing of
the winds, the showers of the clouds, the noise of thunder, the
change of seasons, and the alternation of day and night — all which
things the human mind hath never yet been able by any means to
comprehend. If therefore these things, which we see, without
being able to comprehend them, are such, how ought we to
estimate those heavenly things which we have not yet seen ? And
what is the Creator of them all, at whose nod all were created, and
by whose will all are governed ? Him then, brethren, above all
things, fear ; Him in all things adore ; Him beyond all things

NO. IX.] GENTILE SUPERSTITIONS. 173
love ; cling to His mercy, and never lose your confidence in His
loving kindness."

Notwithstanding the statement of Alcuin, which
was, I dare say, true, as far as his knowledge went
— and his means of knowledge render his authority
respectable — we are not to suppose that this
heathenism was entirely rooted out. If it was so
modified as to be lost sight of, and to have become
comparatively harmless, in old Christian societies,
the accession of barbarous nations, or heathenish
communities, from time to time, rendered it neces
sary to watch against, and denounce it. Whether
on this account, or merely to make his Capitulare
more complete, Atto (Bishop of Vercelli, as late as
a.d. 960) inserted a prohibition against the
heathenish celebration of the Calends ; 9 though it
is not improbable that this superstition might main
tain its ground, in its more barefaced form, up to a
later period in Italy than elsewhere. It is curious
to observe that Boniface, the apostle of Germany,
not long before the time when Alcuin wrote, found
his new converts much scandalized by reports which
travellers brought from Rome, of what went on in
the pope's own city, and " hard by the church of
St. Peter." In his letter of congratulation to Pope
Zachary, he told his Holiness (or rather, " his
Paternity" — it is the pope who calls Boniface
" your Holiness ") that when the laity and secular
persons among the Germans, Bavarians, and
Franks, saw these things performed at Rome,
it was vain to denounce them as sins, or to
attempt to persuade people that they had not
ecclesiastical sanction. The pope replied that he
considered it an abomination, and had (like his

9 Can. 79, ap. Dach. Spicil. i. 410.

174 LIBERTAS DECEMBRICA. [NO. IX.
predecessor, Gregory) done all that he could to
put a stop to it.1
But I am not writing the history of this folly.
The question forces itself upon one — What had this
heathen foolery to do with the church, more than
any other invention of the world, the flesh, or the
devil? It was " juxta ecclesiam sancti Petri" —
" hard by " St. Peter's ; but did it get in ? Council
after council attests that all regular ecclesiastical
authority perpetually opposed it ; and, though I
know less than I could wish about' the particulars,
and the time of its intrusion into sacred places, and
its admixture with sacred things, yet I believe that
it did not become " a farcical entertainment,
exhibited in a church," during the period with which
we are concerned. The only account which I have
met with of any participation by the church in this
" libertas Decembrica," as it was also called, is that
which is given by a writer, who is said to have
belonged to the church of Amiens, and to have been

1 The pope's reply is dated 1st of April, 743 ; but I do not
know that the precise date of Boniface's letter can be fixed.
Having inquired respecting dispensations, respecting marriage,
which some maintained to have been granted by the pope, he adds
— " quia carnales hommes idiotse, Alamanni, vel Bajuarii, vel
Franci, si juxta Bomanam urbem aliquid fieri viderint ex his
peccatis quse nos prohibemus, licitum et concessum a sacerdotibus
esse putant ; et dum nobis improperium deputant, sibi scandalum
vita? accipiunt. Sicut affirmant se vidisse annis singulis, in Romana
urbe, et juxta ecclesiam Sancti Petri, in die vel nocte quando
Kalendse Januarii intrant, paganorum consuetudine choros ducere
per plateas," &c. The pope, after expressing his abomination of
such proceedings, says — " quia per instigationem diaboli iterum
pullulabant, a die qua nos jussit divina dementia (quanquam
immeriti existamus) apostoli vicem gerere, illico omnia haec ampu-
tavimus. Pari etenim modo volumus tuam sanctitatem populis
sibi subditis prsedicare atque ad viam seternaj perducere vita}." —
Lab. Cone. vi. 1497—1500.

NO. IX.] THE FEAST OF FOOLS. 175
living in a.d. 1182. 2 He tells us that there were
some churches in which it was customary for the
bishops and archbishops to join in the Christmas
games which went on in the monasteries in their
dioceses, and even so far to relax as to play at ball.
If I grant that this was " desipere," may I not
plead that it was " in loco," and that it was not
quite so bad as what went on at Rouen and Beauvais
in more enlightened times ?
For when did this festival become the regular
Feast of Fools, with the Bishop of Fools, and the
Abbot of Fools, and foolery sacred and profane in
perfection ? Let us hear Du Cange, to whom
Robertson remits us — " Licet, inquam, ab ecclesia
non semel proscriptaa fuerint, indictis ad hanc diem
jejuniis et litaniis de quibus suo loco, quibus ese
quodammodo expiarentur, et ut ludicraa et impiaa
festivitatis loco vera ac solida succederet ; non
potuere tamen tam ahe radicatse prorsus evelli,
adeo ut extremis etiam temporibus plus solito vires
acceperint, et non a secularibus dumtaxat ; sed et ab
ipsis episcopis et sacerdotibus legantur usurpatse :

2 His words are — " Sunt nonnullaa ecclesise, in quibus usitatum
est, ut vel etiam Episcopi et Archiepiscopi in ccenobiis cum suis
ludant subditis, ita ut etiam sese ad lusum pilaa demittant ; " and
he afterwards says — " quanquam vero magnas ecclesise ut est
Remensis, hanc ludendi consuetudinem observent, videtur tamen
laudabilius esse, non ludere." — Ap. Du Cange in v. Xalendw. The
only writer before the year 1200, mentioned in the continuation of
the article by the editors, is Petrus Capuanus, who wrote in a.d.
1198. He is the earliest writer, as far as I have seen, who speaks
of this, or any festival, under the title of the Festum Fatuorum.
He is here said to have testified its existence in the church of
Paris, and elsewhere ; but with what rites it was celebrated does
not appear. He wrote, as cardinal-legate, to Odo, Bishop of Paris,
and to some of the canons, requiring them to put down the
custom; and it appears that they issued an ordinance for that
purpose.

176 THE FEAST OF FOOLS. [NO. IX.
[imo, cum ab iis omnino abstinuissent laici, eas
obstinate retinuisse clericos, atque ab iis solis
usurpatas fuisse, testantur theologi Parisienses in
Epist. encyclica ann. 1444. ' Quid qugeso fecissent'
(Episcopi) ' si solum clerum sicut hodie his obser-
vantiis vacantem vidissent ? ']" The part between
brackets is so printed by the editors, to show
that is their own addition to the statement of
Du Cange, who proceeds to say that, in modern
times, beside its old title, it came to be called
the Feast of Subdeacons ; not because that order of
the clergy alone took part in it, but from the ambi
guity of the word " Soudiacres id est ad literam
Saturi Diaconi, quasi Diacres Saouls." He also
refers to the fourth council of Constantinople, to
show that something like the mock consecra
tion of the Bishop of Fools was performed in
the east, in the ninth century, by some of the
laity in derision of the clergy; and that it was
forbidden by the church. This council declares
it to be a thing before unheard of; and whether
it was thence imported into the west, and, if
so, at what time, it might be curious to inquire ;
but the editors of Du Cange skip at once from
the ninth to the fourteenth century. What they
quote from the Ceremonial of Viviers, written in
a.d. 1365, from the council of Rouen, in a.d. 1445,
or the Inventory of York, in a.d. 1350 ; or even the
more scanty references to the council of Paris, in a.d.
1212, or that of Cognac, in a.d. 1260, and the Con
stitutions of our Archbishop Peckham in a.d. 1279,
it is not to our present purpose to notice ; but I
wish that some of those gentlemen who understand
all about the march of intellect would explain, how
it happened that these profane follies began — if not
to exist, at least to flourish and abound — at, and
after, and along with, the revival of letters. If not,
I may, perhaps, attempt something of the kind ; but,
in the meantime, I hope (having, perhaps, said

NO. IX.] THE FEAST OF FOOLS. 177
enough about popular misrepresentations for the
present) to go on to some of the points which
I proposed to investigate with reference to the
earlier — for really, after such a discussion, I do
not like to call them the darker — ages of the
church.

N

178

No. X.
" Habet unumquodque propositum principes suos. Romani
duces imitentur Camillos, Fabritios, Regulos, Scipiones. Philosophi
proponant sibi Pythagoram, Socratem, Platonem, Aristotelem.
Poetas, Homerum, Virgilium, Menandrum, Terentium. Historici,
Thucydidem, Sallustium, Herodotum, Livium. Oratores, Lysiam,
Gracchos, Demosthenem, et ut ad nostra veniamus, episcopi et
presbyteri habeant in exemplum Apostolos et Apostolicos viros :
quorum honorem possidentes, habere nitantur et meritum. Nos
autem habeamus propositi nostri principes, Paulos, et Antonios,
Julianos, Hilarionem, Macarios." — Hibeonymus.
" The monks were abominably illiterate " — Well,
good friend, and if you are not so yourself, be
thankful in proportion as you are sure that you
are the better for your learning. But suppose it
were otherwise — suppose you were " abominably
illiterate " — would you like me and all other writers
in great books and small, in magazines and news
papers, to rail at you and run you down, as a creature
not fit to live ? If you were too modest to speak in
your own behalf, it is likely that some of your
friends might suggest such redeeming qualities as
would show that you were not only tolerable, but
useful, in the world. " Very true, very true," says
the march-of-intellect man, " I dare say he may be
a very good Christian, a good subject, a good hus
band or father or landlord, a person of great integrity
and benevolence, and all very well in his way, but
he is abominably illiterate, and I will throw it in his
teeth whenever I come within a mile of him." Now
surely the compassion of a mere by-stander would
lead him to say, " Well, suppose he is abominably
illiterate, do let him alone ; he makes no pretence to
learning."

NO. X.] MONASTICISM. 179
But did not the monks pretend to it ? Certainly
not. " C'est une illusion de certaine gens, qui ont
ecrit dans le siecle precedent que les monasteres
n'avoient este" d'abord etablis que pour servir d'ecoles
et d'academies publiques, ou l'on faisoit profession
d'enseigner les sciences humaines." Very true, Dom
Mabillon, and it is very right that you should con
tradict in plain terms a vulgar error, which, for want
of proper discrimination on the part of the public,
has been confirmed rather than corrected, by the
labours of yourself and Montfaucon, and other of
your brethren in the Benedictine Order. The
" Editio Benedictina et Optima," which figures in
every bookseller's catalogue, has a tendency to mis
lead even those who do not take the trouble to inquire.
who the Benedictines of St. Maur were, or why
their editions of books cost three times as much as
others. This by the way, however; for it is here
only necessary to say, that the abuse heaped on
monks for being unlearned is altogether unjust and
absurd. The monastic life, whatever it might have of good
or bad, was, I apprehend, that point of rest in which
the minds of men settled after they had been driven,
partly by fierce persecution, and partly by the
natural tendency of man towards extremes, into a
mode of life purely solitary. At that stage of the
world, man might have known from experience, as
well as from the Word of God, without making a
fresh trial, that it was not good for him to be alone ;
and that it was as truly, if not as great, a sin to live
without man, as without God, in the world — that is,
to renounce the second great commandment, under
pretence of keeping the first. The eremitical life
was contrary to nature, reason, and religion, and
seems only to have been permitted in order to the
introduction of a system which was, to say the least,
more rational — namely, that of societies, not indi
viduals, forsaking the world, and living in seclusion.

180 MONASTIC STUDIES. [NO. X,
The solitary ascetic, by his self-constructed, self-im
posed, rule (self in all things, self the boundary of
his horizon), was required to renounce the duties,
the charities, the sympathies, of life, and to cut
himself off from all the means of grace which God
has given to man in his fellows ; but, in the monas
tery, the idea was to carry out into some remote
place of safety one mind dispersed and diversified in
various bodies, guiding many hands and uniting
many hearts, and directing, sanctifying, and govern
ing the various gifts of the many members of one
body, whose head was Christ. Such was the idea ;.
and when once suggested it spread rapidly. Small
companies nestled down in solitude — to study the
classics ? — to stimulate the march of intellect ? No
such thing — " tota rusticitas, et extra psalmos
silentium est. Quocunque te verteris, arator
stivam tenens, alleluia decantat. Sudans messor
psalmis se avocat, et curva attondens vitem falce
vinitor, aliquid Davidicum canit. Hsec sunt in hac
provincia carmina ; has, ut vulgo dicitur, amatoria?
cantiones. Hie pastorum sibilus : hsec arma cultura?."
Solitude, labour, silence, and prayer — these were the
elements of monastic life ; and the question was not
how the monk might most effectively gather and
diffuse learning, but — when, indeed, any question
came to be raised — whether he might lawfully culti
vate learning at all.
" Tout le monde sait " — says Dom Vincent Thuil-
lier ; but it is certainly quite a mistake of his, — or
if it was true when he wrote it, it has long since
ceased to be so, — for there are plenty of people, who
are very far from being abominably illiterate, who
nevertheless know nothing about the " Contestation
sur les Etudes Monastiques," of which he undertook
to be the historian. If he had said that most people
have heard of De Ranee, of his noble birth, his pro
fligate life, his sudden and mysterious conversion,
his persevering austerities — of the solitary and silent

SO. X.] DE RANCE" AND MABILLON. 181
horrors of La Trappe, and of a great deal of
picturesque truth so like romance that one can
hardly imagine the hero sitting at a wooden table,
with a real pen and ink, writing a book — if Father
Thuillier had said this, we might have assented ; but
to tell us outright that everybody knows that De
Ranee's " Traite de la Saintete et des Devoirs de la
Vie Monastique" began the fray between him and
Dom Mabillon, is too much, seeing that there are, as
I have said, a great many very well-informed persons,
who do not know that these two famous men ever
had any controversy about monastic studies, or
even, perhaps, that there were any such studies to
dispute about.
The work of De Ranee, I am told (for I have
never seen it), was professedly written for his own
monks, and represented to them that the pursuit of
literature was inconsistent with their profession,
and that their reading ought, to be confined to the
Scriptures and a few books of devotion. This
seemed like — some thought it was meant to be — an
attack on the Benedictine monks of St. Maur — for
that they were learned everybody knew — and they
were urged to reply. They, however, remained very
quiet; and it was long before they could be
persuaded to take the field. The Benedictine
historian whom I have mentioned, and to whom I
am indebted, suggests as a reason for this, that the
Benedictines really were (and everybody knew they
were) following the footsteps of their learned prede
cessors in the cultivation of letters, and that they
thought it quite sufficient to tell those who talked
to them on the subject, that the abbot of La Trappe
had his own reasons for what he did1 — that he had

1 " Et pour toute reponse a ceux qui les excitoient a se defendre,
ils alleguerent que le Pere Abb6 avoit ses vues particulieres, qu'il
n'avoit droit de decision que sur sa Maison, qu'il y etoit le maitre,

182 DE RANCE AND [NO. X.
no authority except in his own convent — that
there he really was master — and no one had a
right to blame him if, in order to conduct his
own flock to heaven, he prescribed paths somewhat
singular under the conviction that they were the
safest. Father Thuillier is not, perhaps, quite an un
prejudiced historian ; and I hope I am not unchari
table in thinking that he might have added, that
although these good fathers of St. Maur were in fact
following the steps of their predecessors in the order
of St. Benedict, yet, considering that they had had
predecessors in that order for nearly twelve hundred
years, and that during the lapse of that period many
things had altered both in and out of the cloister,.
they felt it rather awkward to be sharply recalled to
the naked letter of their Rule. They were in no
haste to meet an opponent of great influence from
family, connexion, character, and the singular
circumstances of his life — a man, acute, eloquent,
fervid, and fully persuaded that he was maintaining
the cause of pure and primitive and spiritual religion,
against the incursions of vain, worldly, and mis
chievous pursuits. One might forgive them if they
were not eager to fight such a battle, with such an
adversary, before an enlightened public, who, which
ever side might gain the victory, would be sure to
make themselves merry with the battle of the
monks. Be this as it may, however, a considerable time

et qu'on ne pouvoit trouver a redire, que pour conduire son
troupeau au Ciel, il se fit des routes singulieres, puisqu'il les
croioit les plus sures." Mabill. Op. Post. Tom. I. p. 366. The
words which I have marked by italics seem capable of an invidious
construction ; but the notorious circumstances of the case were
such that it can hardly have been intended.

NO. X.] MABILLON. 183
elapsed — I do not know in what year De Ranee
published his book, and therefore cannot tell whether
it was with a view to be specific, or to show his own
classical reading, that Father Thuillier tells us that
more than nine years had passed before the Bene
dictine reply came out; but in fact Dom Mabillon's
" Traite des Etudes Monastiques " was published in
the year 1691. It was, of course, learned, wise, and
modest. It proved that there had been a succession
of learned monks from almost the very beginning of
monasticism, that they had learned and taught as
much as they could, and that, on the general
principles of religion, reason, and common sense,
they were quite right in so doing ; but, as to the
Rule, he did. not get on quite so well ; because it
must be obvious to everyone who inquires, that
none of the monastic legislators ever contemplated
the formation of academies of learning and science.
This Mabillon of course knew, and I doubt whether
he could have carried on his argument (for I do not
believe that he would have done what he considered
dishonest), had it not been for a full persuasion of
his mind which, though it may not bear to be stated
as an argument, peeps out occasionally in a very
amusing manner, and gives a colour to the whole
line of defence. — "Not study? why, how could they
help it ? " — -or, thrown into a more logical form,
" You acknowledge that the monks lived in their
monasteries ; but it is impossible for people to live
without study ; therefore the monks studied."
Some caviller might say that the Rule did not tell
them to study ; and the good father would perhaps
have smiled and answered that it did not tell them
to breathe.
The work was, however, popular ; for who would
not wish to be ranged with the admirers and
advocates of learning and science ? and a second
edition was printed the next year after the first. It
was quickly translated into Italian by Father Ceppi,

184 DE rance" and [no. X.
an Augustinian monk2, but was very near being
prohibited, not on account of anything connected
with the dispute, but for some things which
appeared too liberal ; among others, a commenda
tion of Archbishop Ussher's Annals. Father Ceppi,
however, managed to soften the Master of the
. Sacred Palace, and so got a conditional imprimatur
in 1701. A German translation of it was published
by Father Udalric Staudigl in 1702 ; and a Latin
one by Father Joseph Porta in 1704.
It is not, however, my present business to trace
this controversy through the reply of De Ranee,
and the rejoinder of Mabillon. I mention it here to
show that, even so recently as little more than a
century ago, it was a question sharply contested
between men of the highest monastic eminence,
whether a monk might lawfully be a learned man.
I do this with a view to remove what I believe to be
a very common misapprehension as to the origin and
nature of monastic institutions. I know, as well as
Mabillon did — that is, as to full conviction that it
was so, not as to the facts which his almost

2 I learn from Father Ossinger's Bibliotheca Augustiniana, that
this Father Ceppi was, " singularis venerator nostri S. Nicolai de
Tolentino," and that " ad promovendam devotionem erga hunc
universal Ecclesise Patronum in lingua Italica typis mandavit,
' Maraviglie trecenta ed una operate da Dio per li meriti del Santo
Protettore di Santa Chiesa Nicolo di Tolentino. In Roma,
1710.' " And also another work, with the same design, " II
sangue miracoloso del Santo Protettore di Santa Chiesa Nicolo di
Tolentino, dedicata all' Eminentissimo, e Reverendissimo Prencipe
il Signor Cardinale Nicolo Coscia. Roma?, 1725, in 8." I
acknowledge that this has nothing to do with the period under
our consideration ; for Ceppi wrote in the eighteenth, and this St.
Nicholas (his patron, or patronized) lived in the fourteenth,
century ; but may I not be pardoned if, having to say so much of
the dull, legendary, and lying works of the Dark Ages, I enliven
the subject by an occasional reference to the wiser literature of
more enlightened times ? See Note A.

¦NO. X.] MABILLON. 185
¦unbounded learning might have furnished in proof
¦or illustration — that the monks were the most
learned men ; and that it pleased God to make
monastic institutions the means of preserving
learning in the world, and I hope to show this ; but
before I do so, I wish to come to a clear under
standing with those who, instead of thanking the
monks for what they did, find sufficient employment
in abusing them for not doing what they never
undertook to do, and were, in fact, no more bound
to do than other people. With this view I am also
desirous to say something of the Rule of St. Benedict.
"" I would not have answered him," said De Ranee
to Father Lamy, when the Duchess of Guise, who
took a vast interest in the matter, had gone to La
Trappe, and got these two fathers face to face, to
fight the matter out before her3 — " I would not
have answered him, if he had not carried the matter
up to the time of Pachomius." It was too bad;
and I am not going to imitate it by speaking here
of any earlier Rule than St. Benedict's. To be
sure, even that was born before the dark ages, and
has survived them ; but its almost universal adoption
in the west, and its incalculable influence, as being
the Rule by which almost all the monasteries of
Europe were governed, aud by which therefore
every individual monk in them had solemnly bound
himself, render it a matter of much interest and

3 Father Lamy went, because Mabillon could not be persuaded
to go ; " II se rendit done a la Trappe aupres de son A. R. Elle
avoit sans doute prevenu sur son chapitre le P. Abbe, car on ne
peut pas plus d'egards, plus d'honnetez, plus de soins et d'assiduitez
qu'il reput et de deux de ses Religieux. Apres les premiers eom-
plimens son A. R. les fit asseoir dans une ruelle, I'un, dit-elle
agreablement, a titre de goute sciatique, et I'autre a titre de pierre,
et puis Elle les obligea d'entrer en matiere sur le grand different
•des Etudes."— p. 376.

186 RULE OF [NO. X..
importance to those who would understand the
spirit of monastic institutions, and their real cir
cumstances during the Dark Ages. For our present
purpose, it may be sufficient to extract the prologue,
and the fourth chapter ; the former of which is as
follows : —

" Hear, 0 my son, the precepts of a master ; and incline the
ear of thine heart ; and cheerfully receive, and effectually fulfil,.
the admonition of an affectionate father ; that, by the labour of
obedience, thou mayest return to him, from whom thou hast
departed by the sloth of disobedience. To thee therefore my dis
course is now directed — whosoever, renouncing the desires of self,
and about to serve as a soldier of the Lord Christ, the true
King, dost assume the most powerful and noble arms of obedi
ence. " In the first place, you must, with most urgent prayer, entreat
that whatsoever good thing you take in hand, may through Him
be brought to completion ; that He who hath condescended now to
reckon us in the number of his sons, may not be obliged to grieve
over our ill conduct. For He is ever to be served by us, with
those good things which are his own ; so served by us as that not
only He may not, as an angry father, disinherit his sons, — but
that He may not, as a Master who is to be feared, be so in
censed by our sins, as to deliver over to eternal punishment,
as most wicked servants, those who would not follow Him to
glory. " Let us, however, at length arise ; for the Scripture arouses
us, saying, ' That now it is high time to awake out of sleep ; ' and,.
our eyes being opened to the divine light, let us hear with
astonished ears the voice which every day admonishes us, ' To-day,
if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts ; ' and again, ' He
that hath ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit saith to the-
churches ; ' and what saith He ? ' Come, ye children, hearken
unto me : I will teach you the fear of the Lord ' — ' Run while-
ye have the light of life, lest the darkness of death overtake
you.' "And the Lord, seeking for his workman among the multitude-
of the people, whom He thus addresses, saith again, ' What man
is he that desireth life, and will see good days ? ' And if when
you hear this you answer ' I,' God saith unto you, ' If thou wilt
have life, keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak
no guile. Depart from evil, and do good ; seek peace and pursue-
it.' And when you shall have done this, ' my eyes are upon you,
and my ears are towards your prayers ; and before ye call upon
me I will say unto you " Here am I." ' Most dear brethren,.

NO. X.] ST. BENEDICT. 187
what is sweeter than this voice of the Lord inviting us ? Behold,
in his mercy, the Lord points out to us the way of life.
" Our loins therefore being girded, and our feet shod with faith
and the observance of good works, let us, under the guidance of
the gospel, go forth on his ways, that we may be counted worthy
to see Him who hath called us, in his kingdom. In the tabernacle
of whose kingdom, if we desire to dwell, we can by no means attain
our desire, except by running in the way of good works. But let
us inquire of the Lord with the Prophet, and say unto Him,
' Lord, who shall dwell in thy tabernacle, and who shall rest in thy
holy mountain ? ' After this inquiry, Brethren, let us hear the
Lord replying, and showing us the way of his tabernacle, and
saying, ' He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness,
and speaketh the truth in his heart ; he that backbiteth not with
his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a
reproach against his neighbour.' Who turning away the eyes of
his heart from the wicked Devil who tempts him, and from his
temptation, hath brought him to nought, and hath taken the young
thoughts which he hath bred and dashed them to pieces on Christ.4
Who, fearing the Lord, are not puffed up by their good works ;
but who, considering that those good things which are in them
could not be wrought by themselves, but by the Lord, magnify the
Lord who worketh in them, saying with the Prophet, ' Not unto
us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory.' Like as
the Apostle Paul reckoned nothing of his preaching, saying, ' By
the grace of God I am what I am ; ' and again he says, ' He that
glorieth let him glory in the Lord.'
" Hence also it is, that our Lord saith in the gospel, ' Whoso
ever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken
him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock : and the
floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house ; and
it fell not : for it was founded upon a rock.' While the Lord does
all this, He expects every day that we should respond to his holy
admonitions, by our actions. Therefore it is, that the days of this
life are extended as a respite for the emendation of what is evil ;
as the Apostle says, ' Knowest thou not that the long suffering of
God leadeth thee to repentance ? ' For the merciful God hath
said, ' I desire not the death of a sinner, but that he should be
converted and live.'
" When therefore, my brethren, we inquire of the Lord, ' who
shall abide in thy tabernacle? ' we thus hear the rule of habitation ;
and if we fulfil the duty of an inhabitant, we shall be heirs of the

* The allusion is to Psalm cxxxvii. 9. " Filia Babylonis
beatus qui tenebit et allidet parvulos tuos ad petram."

188 RULE OF [NO. X.
kingdom of heaven. Therefore our hearts and bodies are to be
prepared to go forth to the warfare of holy obedience to the com
mandments ; and, because it is impossible to our nature, let us ask
the Lord of his grace that He would assist us with his help. And
if, flying from the pains of hell, we desire to obtain eternal life,
while yet there is opportunity and we are in this body, and
space is afforded to fulfil all these things by this life of light,
we must now run and labour for that which shall profit us for
ever. " We must, therefore, institute a school of service to the Lord ;
in which institution we trust that we shall appoint nothing harsh
or burdensome. If, however, anything a little severe should, on
reasonable grounds of equity, be enjoined for the correction of
vices, and the preservation of charity, do not in sudden alarm fly
from the way of safety, which can only be begun by a narrow
entrance. In the progress, however, of our conversation and faith,
the heart being enlarged with the ineffable sweetness of love, we
run the way of God's commandments, so that never departing from
his governance, remaining under his teaching in the monastery
until death, we through patience are partakers of Christ's suffer
ings, that we may be counted worthy to be partakers of his
kingdom."

The first chapter of the Rule is on the various
kinds of monks — the second, on the qualifications
and duties of an abbot — the third, on the duty of
the abbot to take counsel with the brethren — and
the fourth is headed, " Quse sint instrumenta
bonorum operum." This title has given some
trouble to commentators; and the reader may
translate it as he pleases. It is not my business to
criticize it, especially as the chapter itself is intelli
gible enough. It contains seventy-two brief injunc
tions, from whence we may form some general
opinion as to what those who bound themselves by
this Rule did, and did not, undertake. Most of the
other seventy-two chapters of the Rule consist
of regulations respecting the organization and
management of their society, which would, of
course, occupy the most room; but it seems
to me that this single fourth chapter should
at least qualify the statements of those who pro-

N0- x'] ST. BENEDICT. 189
fess to have found nothing but a body of heartless
forms.5 " 1. In the first place, to love the Lord God with the whole
heart, whole soul, whole strength. 2. Then his neighbour as him
self. 3. Then not to kill. 4. Then not to commit adultery.
5. Not to steal. 6. Not to covet. 7. Not to bear false witness.
8. To honour all men. 9. And what anyone would not have done
to him, let him not do to another. 10. To deny himself, that he
may follow Christ. 11. To chasten the body. 12. To renounce
luxuries. 13. To love fasting. 14. To relieve the poor. 15. To
clothe the naked. 16. To visit the sick. 17. To bury the dead.
18. To help in tribulation. 19. To console the afflicted. 20. To
disengage himself from worldly affairs. 21. To set the love of
Christ before all other things. 22. Not to give way to anger.
23. Not to bear any grudge. 24. Not to harbour deceit in the
heart. 25. Not to make false peace. 26. Not to forsake charity.
27. Not to swear, lest haply he perjure himself. 28. To utter
truth from his heart and his mouth. 29. Not to return evil for
evil. 30. Not to do injuries ; and to bear them patiently. 31. To
love his enemies. 32. Not to curse again those who curse him ;
but rather to bless them. 33. To endure persecutions for
righteousness sake.- 34. Not to be proud. 35. Not given to wine.
36. Not gluttonous. 37. Not addicted to sleep. 38. Not sluggish.
39. Not given to murmur. 40. Not a slanderer. 41. To commit
his hope to God. 42. When he sees anything good in himself, to
attribute it to God, and not to himself. 43. But let him always
know, that which is evil in his own doing, and impute it to him
self. 44. To fear the day of judgment. 45. To dread Hell.
46. To desire eternal life, with all spiritual longing. 47. To have
the expectation of death every day before his eyes. 48. To watch
over his actions at all times. 49. To know certainly that, in all
places, the eye of God is upon him. 50. Those evil thoughts
which come into his heart immediately to dash to pieces on Christ.
51. And to make them known to his spiritual senior. 52. To keep
his lips from evil and wicked discourse. 53. Not to be fond of
much talking. 54. Not to speak vain words, or such as provoke
laughter. 55. Not to love much or violent laughter. 56. To give
willing attention to the sacred readings. 57. To pray frequently.
58. Every day to confess his past sins to God, in prayer, with

6 About this time the monastic rules of Benedict were estab
lished, which afterwards were received through the western
churches. They are full of forms, and breathe little of the spirit
of godliness. The very best thing that I can find recorded of the
superstitious founder, is the zeal with which he opposed idolatry.
— Milaer's History of the Church of Christ, Cent. VI., ch. iv.

190 RULE OF N0- X-J
tears and groaning ; from thenceforward to reform as to those sins.
59. Not to fulfil the desires of the flesh ; to hate self-will. 60. In
all things to obey the commands of the abbot, even though he him
self (which God forbid) should do otherwise ; remembering our
Lord's command, ' What they say, do ; but what they do, do ye
not.' 61. Not to desire to be called a saint before he is one, but
hrst to be one that he may be truly called one. 62. Every day to
fulfil the commands of God in action. 63. To love chastity.
64. To hate nobodv. 65. To have no jealousy ; to indulge no
envy. 66. Not to "love contention. 67. To avoid self-conceit.
68. To reverence seniors. 69. To love juniors. 70. To pray for
enemies, in the love of Christ. 71. After a disagreement, to be
reconciled before the going down of the sun. 72. And never to
despair of the mercy of God."
I apprehend that these injunctions are better than
some readers would have expected to find; and
should it appear that, on the whole, they are defec
tive either as to doctrine, or instruction, let it be
remembered that St. Benedict did not intend that
his Rule should supersede the Holy Scriptures.
He did not mean to give his disciples the traditions
of men instead of the word of God. He told them
plainly that the most perfect Rule of life was con
tained in the Old and New Testament ;6 and that he
expected them to be assiduous in reading the Scrip
tures, and the works of some of the Fathers, is clear.
This species of study, and this only, he enjoined
upon them ; and as to their practice in this respect
I hope to speak hereafter. In the meantime, I just
observe that thus to read (or to be read to, if he
could not read) was all that was required of a
monk. It may, however, be said, that supposing the
monks to have kept to their original state, and to
have lived in all things according to their Rules,
they might not, perhaps, have been so much to

6 " Qua? enim pagina, aut quis sermo divinse auctoritatis veteris
ac novi Testamenti, non est rectissima norma vitsa humanse," &c.
Cap. lxxiii; which is entitled " De eo quod non omnis observatio
justitias in hac sit Regula constituta."

NO. X.] ST. BENEDICT. 191
blame for the want of learning, but that, by the
times with which we are concerned, most of them
were priests, and that the clergy — well, I fully
admit that as clergy they were bound to be more
learned than other men ; but at present, as Jerome
says, " quod loquor, non de episcopis, non de pres-
byteris, non de clericis loquor; sed de monacho.'"
I desire, first, to place the question on its right
footing, and trust that I shall not be found
reluctant to acknowledge that the clergy ought
to be the most learned class in the community.
In fact, they always were so, and this I hope to
show. 7 Ad Paulin.

192

No. XL
" Alia, ut ante perstrinxi, monachorum est causa : alia clericorum,
Clerici pascunt oves ; ego pascor." — Hieronymus.
It will be readily admitted that those who profess
to teach others should be more learned than the
rest of the community. This was, however, the
very point of difference between the monks and the
clergy — " monachus non docentis, sed plangentis
habet officium," said Jerome, and a monk, as such,
had no business, and did not, in fact, pretend, to
teach anything or anybody. This, though strictly
applicable only to the original state of things, may
be, in some degree, applied to the subsequent con
dition of monastic institutions, when most of the
monks were priests ; because the real and practical
difference is between those who live in the world
with, and for the sake of, the cure of souls, and
those who, either for devotion or for any other
reason, live out of the world — in the cell or the
cloister.1

1 That which St. Jerome so pithily expressed, is more diffusely
stated by St. Ambrose — " Narnque hssc duo in adtentiore chris-
tianorum devotione praestantiora esse quis ambigat, clericorum
officia, et monachorum instituta? Ista ad commoditatem et
moralitatem disciplina, ilia ad abstinentiam adsuefacta atque
patientiam : haac velut in quodam theatro, ilia in secreto : spectatur
ista, ilia absconditur .... Hsec ergo vita in stadio, ilia in
spelunca ; hsec adversus confusionem sasculi, ilia adversus carnis
appetentiam : hsec subjiciens, ilia refugiens corporis voluptates :
hsec gratior, ilia tutior : hsec seipsam regens, ilia semet ipsam
coercens : utraque tamen se abnegans, ut fiat Christi ; quia per-
fectis dictum est : ' Qui vult post me venire, abneget seipsum sibi,
et tollat crucem suam, et sequatur me.' . . . Hsec ergo dimicat,
ilia se removet : hsec illecebras vincit, ilia refugit : huic mundus
triumphatur, illi exsulat : huic mundus crucifigitur, vel ipsa mundo,
illi ignoratur : huic plura tentamenta, et ideo major victoria ; illi
infrequentior lapsus, facilior custodia." — Ep. lxiii. torn. ii. p.
1039.

NO. XI.] LEARNING OF THE CLERGY. 193
Notwithstanding — or, perhaps, I ought rather to
say, by reason of — this, the monks took the lead in
learning. It is not worth while here to enter into
all the reasons of this, while there is one that
is so obvious — namely, that they led quiet, retired,
and regular lives; and that if they could not
be originally, or at all times, said to have more
leisure than the secular clergy, their employments
and habits were of a nature less unfriendly to
study. Instead, therefore, of now entering into this
matter, let us come at once to a question which
must be met if we are to understand each other or
the subject, — for I cannot help fearing that, while
speaking of the dark ages, I and some, at least, of
my readers may be thinking of very different things,
under the same name — What is learning ? or, to put
the question in a more limited and less troublesome
form — What did the people of the dark ages think
on this subject ? It might, I think, be shown that
there were a good many persons in those ages not
so destitute of all that is now called learning as
some have asserted, and many, without much
inquiry, believe. I might ask, how does it happen
that the classics, and the older works on art or
science, have been preserved in existence ? and I
might, with still greater force (but obviously with
intolerable prolixity), appeal to the works of writers
of those ages to show that they knew the meaning
of that which, no one can deny, they preserved and
multiplied. But this is not to our present purpose;
and the proper answer is, that people in those days
were brought up with views respecting profane
learning which it is necessary for us to understand
before we form our judgment of the men ; and, as I
have never seen these views clearly stated, I will
take leave to say a few words about them.
" Quid ergo Athenis et Hierosolymis ? quid
Academias et Ecclesia?? quid hsereticis et Ohristianis?
Nostra institutio de porticu Salomonis est : qui et
ipse tradiderat, Dominum in simplicitate cordis esse
o

194 DARK-AGE VIEW [NO. XI.
quserendum. Viderint qui Stoicum, et Platonicum,
et Dialecticum Christianismum protulerunt. Nobis
curiositate opus non est post Christum Jesum, nee
inquisitione post evangelium. Cum credimus, nihil
desideramus ultra credere. Hoc enim prius credi
mus, non esse, quod ultra credere debemus." These
are not the words of a monk of the tenth century,
if not of a priest of the second. How far it might
have been better or worse if the Christian church
had maintained, and acted on, the feeling which
Tertullian expresses, this is not the place to discuss.
In point of fact, the rigour of the law here laid
down was soon softened, — or perhaps I should say
that an excuse was soon provided for those who
were enamoured of profane learning. They were
not to go down to Egypt for help. Undoubtedly,
that was quite clear ; but it was equally clear that
they might spoil the Egyptians, and bring that
silver and gold which, wherever they may be found,
are the Lord's, into the camp of His people. They
were not to contract alliances with the heathen.
Certainly not ; but if, in the course of war, they
should see among the spoil a beautiful captive, it
was lawful to bring her home ; and, when her head
had been shaved, and her nails pared, to take her to
wife. These fancies were, as far as I know, excogi
tated by Origen, — the man, perhaps, of all others
most bound, and best able, to devise some excuse
for a practice which the severe and exclusive
purity of primitive Christianity had condemned.2

2 In his letter to Gregory (torn. i. p. 30), he suggests that this
might be really intended by the command given to the Israelites
to borrow from the Egyptians. As to the captive, after quoting
the law (Deut. xxi. 10), he says — " And to say the truth, I also
have frequently gone out to battle against my enemies, and there
I have seen, among the spoil, a woman beautiful to behold. For
whatever we find that is well and rationally said in the works of
our enemies, if we read anything that is said wisely and according
to knowledge, we ought to cleanse it, and from that knowledge
which they possess to remove and cut off all that is dead and use-

NO. XI.] OF PROFANE LEARNING. 195
Whether it was entirely valid or not, however,
this was, for more than a thousand years, the stand
ing excuse for those who were conscious (not to say
vain) of their heathenish acquirements. Take, for
instance — and as a specimen of the feeling at a

less, — for such are all the hair of the head, and the nails of the
woman taken out of the spoils of the enemy, — and then at length
to make her our wife, when she no longer has any of those things
which for their in6delity are called dead. Nothing dead on her
head or in her hands : so that neither in senses, nor in action, she
should have anything that is unclean or dead about her." In
Levit. Horn. VII. torn. ii. p. 227. If Origen's plaything were not
the Word of God, one might often be amused with his childish
fooleries ; but when we consider what mischief has been done to
truth by the way of allegorizing (or, as it is now called, spiritual
izing) the Bible, it cannot be looked on without disgust. Of
course, the next step is to despise and get rid of the letter of
Scripture, as Jerome does most unceremoniously (not to say
blasphemously) in this very case. After telling us that the husks,
in the parable of the prodigal son, may mean poetry, rhetoric, and
the wisdom of this world, he adds — " Hujus sapientia? typus et in
Deuteronomio sub mulieris captivse figura describitur : de qua
divina vox prascipit : ut si Israelites earn habere voluerit uxorem,
calvitium ei faciat, ungues prsesecet, et pilos auferat : et cum
munda fuerit effecta tunc transeat in victoris amplexus. Hasc si
secundum literam intelligimus nonne ridicula sunt ? Itaque et nos
hoc facere solemus quando philosophos legimus," &c. — Ad Damas.
torn. iii. p. 44, M. My object here, however, is only to show
whence certain opinions and feelings of the dark ages were derived.
The reader who thinks what I have said insufficient may see the
account which Jerome gives, in his Epistle to Eustochium, of his
being brought before the judgment-seat, and punished as a
Ciceronian. The story is too long to be extracted here, and too
well known, perhaps, to require it. At all events, it was well
known in the dark ages. He introduces it by saying — " Qusb
enim cpmmunicatio luci ad tenebras ? qui consensus Christo cum
Balial ? Quid facit cum Psalterio Horatius ? cum Evangeliis,
Maro? Cum Apostolis, Cicero ?" &c. — torn. i. p. 51, C. To this
we may add, the first book of Augustine's Confessions, c. 12, and
thenceforth. Stronger things than these fathers wrote are not,
I believe, to be found in the writings of the dark ages. Some of
what Jerome says it would hardly do to produce in the present
day — for instance, " At nunc etiam sacerdotes Dei, omissis evange
liis et prophetis, videmus comcedias legere, amatoria Bucolicorum
versuum verba canere, tenere Virgilium : et id quod in pueris
necessitatis est, crimen in se facere voluptatis," &c.

196 DARK-AGE TIEW [NO. XI.
period with which we are at present more concerned
than with that of Tertullian or Origen — a letter and
answer which passed between a prior and an abbot
in the year 1150 : —
"To his Lord, the Venerable Abbot of  , R. wishes health
and happiness. Although you desire to have the books of Tully,
I know that you are a Christian and not a Ciceronian. But you
go over to the camp of the enemy, not as a deserter, but as a spy.
I should, therefore, have sent you the books of Tully which we
have De Re Agraria, Philippics and Epistles, but that it is not
our custom that any books should be lent to any person without
good pledges. Send us, therefore, the Noctes Atticse of Aulus
Gellius, and Origen on the Canticles. The books which we have
just brought from France, if you wish for any of them, I will send
you." The Abbot replied —
" Brother  , by the grace of God what he is in the Catholic
Church, to his friend R., the venerable Prior of H  , blessing
and life eternal. You have rightly reminded me, brother, that
though I may have the books of Cicero, yet I should remember
that I am a Christian ; and as you have written (and as your
Seneca says of himself) I go over sometimes to the enemy's camp,
not as a deserter or traitor, but as a spy, and one who is desirous
of spoil, if haply I may take prisoner some Midianitish woman,
whom, after her head has been shaved, and her nails have been
pared, I may lawfully take to wife. And though I deserve only to
be a stranger^ — or, indeed, an exile — in a far country, nevertheless
I desire rather to be filled with that bread which came down from
heaven, than to fill my belly with the husks which the swine do
eat. The dishes prepared by Cicero do not form the principal, or
the first, course at my table ; but if, at any time, when filled with
better food, anything of his pleases me, I take it as one does the
trifles which are set on the table after dinner. For it is even a
kind of pleasure to me not to be idle. Nor, indeed (to say nothing
of any other reasons), can I bear that that noble genius, those
splendid imaginations, such great beauties both of thought and
language, should be lost in oblivion and neglect; but I want to
make into one volume all his works which can be found; for I have
no sympathy with those who, neglecting all liberal studies, are
careful only for transitory things ; and who collect that they may
disperse, and disperse that they may collect. They are like men
playing at ball — they catch eagerly, and throw away quickly ; so
that they have no moderation either in catching or in throwing
away. Although their doctrine is praised by secular persons of
bad character, yet if you love me, you will avoid it as poison, and
the death of the soul. I have sent you as pledges for your books,

NO. XI.] OF PROFANE LEARNING. 197
Origen on the Canticles, and instead of Aulus Gellius (which I
could not have at this time) a book which is called, in Greek,
Strategematon, which is military."
It must be observed, however, that this excuse
would scarcely serve — indeed, strictly speaking, it
could not be admitted at all — for reading heathen
works of fiction. The Midianitish captive might
have beauty, and might be loved, if she assumed the
form of philosophy or history, art or science.
Truth, wherever found, is truth and beauty; but
when the captive appeared in the meretricious form
of poetry, and that, too, poetry about false gods —
or, more plainly, nonsense about nonentities — or
even coarsely, as they would have expressed it,
lies about devils — when this was the case they
thought that the less Christians had to do with it
the better. Beside this, they thought that Virgil
and Horace (to say nothing of some others) spoke
of things whereof it is a shame to speak — things
which children should not be taught, and which it
were better that Christian men should not know.
This was their feeling and conviction; and on this
they acted. It was not, as modern conceit loves to
talk, that they were ignorant that such books existed,
or that they were men so destitute of brains and
passions as not to admire the language in which the
heathen poets described, and the images in which
they personified, ambition, rage, lust, intemperance,
and a variety of other things which were quite
contrary to the Rules of St. Benedict and St.
Chrodegang. I grant that they had not that extravagant and
factitious admiration for the poets of antiquity
which they probably would have had if they had
been brought up to read them before they could
understand them, and to admire them as a necessary
matter of taste before they could form any intellec
tual or moral estimate of them. They thought,
too, that there were worse things in the world than
false quantities, and preferred running the risque of

198 DARK-AGE VIEW [NO. XI.
them to some other risques which they apprehended ;3
but yet there are instances enough of the classics
(even the poets) being taught in schools, and read
by individuals ; and it cannot be doubted that they
might have been, and would have been, read by
more but for the prevalence of that feeling which I
have described, and which, notwithstanding these
exceptions, was very general. Modern, and, as it
is supposed, more enlightened, views of education
have decided that this was all wrong ; but let us not
set down what was at most an error of judgment
as mere stupidity and a proof of total barbarism.
If the modern ecclesiastic should ever meet with a
crop-eared monk of the tenth century, he may, if he
pleases, laugh at him for not having read Virgil ;
but if he should himself be led to confess that,
though a priest of Christ's catholic church, and
nourished in the languages of Greece and Rome till
they were almost as familiar to him as his own, he

3 When our Archbishop Lanfranc was a monk at Bee, but at a
time when the most renowned teachers of Latin were coming to
him for instruction — clerici accurrunt, Ducum filii, nominatissimi
scholarum latinitatis magistri — he was one day officiating as reader
at table, when the prior corrected, or thought that he corrected,
him for a false quantity. " It was," says his biographer, " as if he
had said docere with the middle syllable long, as it is ; and he [the
prior] would have corrected it by shortening the middle syllable to
docere, which it is not, for that prior was not learned. But the
wise man, knowing that obedience was due to Christ rather than to
Donatus, gave up the right pronunciation, and said as he was
improperly told to say. For he knew that a false quantity was not
a capital crime, but that to disobey one who commanded him in
God's stead (jubenti ex parte Dei) was no trifling sin." — Mab. A. S.
IX. 635. By way of a set-off to some things which I have quoted,
and a specimen of the exceptions of which I speak, I may add
what the biographer of Herluin (who was abbot of Bee at this
time) says of this confluence of learned men. He tells us that the
monastery increased in a variety of ways, as to fame, revenue, &c.
— " Viris litteratis undecumque confluentibus cum ornamentis et
spoliis quibus spoliaverant iEgyptum, que cultui tabernaculi post-
modum forent accommoda. Poetarum quippe figmenta, philoso-
phorum scientia et artium liberalium disciplina, Scripturis sacris
intelligendis valde sunt necessaria." — Ibid. 364.

NO. XI.] OF PROFANE LEARNING. 199
had never read a single page of Chrysostom or
Basil, of Augustine or Jerome, of Ambrose or
Hilary — if he should confess this I am of opinion
that the poor monk would cross himself, and make
off without looking behind him.
So different are the feelings of men, and I doubt
whether it is possible for any man in the present
day to form a complete idea of the state of feeling
on this subject which existed for many centuries ;
but it is very desirable that it should be understood,
and perhaps it may be illustrated by a few extracts
from writers of different periods.
Pope Gregory wrote a letter to Desiderius, a
Bishop of Gaul, which begins thus : — " Having
received much pleasing information respecting your
studies, such joy arose in my heart that I could not
on any account think of refusing what you, my
brother, requested. But after this I was informed
(what I cannot repeat without shame) that you, my
brother, teach certain persons grammar.4 At this I
was so grieved, and conceived so strong a disgust,
that I exchanged the feelings which I have described
for groans and sadness; for it cannot be that the
praises of Jupiter and the praises of Christ should
proceed from the same mouth. Consider, yourself,

4 I say " teach Grammar," though it is a very absurd translation
of Grammaticam exponere. The reader who does not require such
an explanation will, I hope, excuse my saying, for the sake of
others, that the " ars grammatica " comprehended something much
beyond what the words would now suggest. Indeed, they might,
perhaps, be more properly translated " classical," or, what is the
same thing, " profane literature." The Grammaticus was, as his
name imported, a man of letters — those letters, however, to borrow
the words of Augustine, " non quas primi magistri, sed quas docent
qui grammatici vocantur." — Confess. L. I. c. xii. How much
those who lived in the dark ages knew of such literature, people
may dispute ; and therefore, as I know of no other alternative, I
prefer using the word " grammar," though incorrect, to the
appearance of exaggerating their knowledge, until I can show, as I
hope to do, that they were not so entirely ignorant of the classics
as some have supposed.

200 DARK-AGE VIEW [NO. XI.
how sad and wicked a thing it is (quam grave
nefandumque sit) for a bishop to sing what would be
unfit for a religious layman ; and although, my most
dear son, Candidus, the priest, who came afterwards,
being strictly examined as to this matter, denied it,
and endeavoured to excuse you, yet my mind is not
satisfied. For as it is horrible that such a thing should
be told of a priest (execrabile est hoc de sacerdote
enarrari), so should the investigation of its truth or
falsehood be strict in proportion. If, therefore, the
information which I have received shall hereafter be
shown to be false, and it shall appear that you are
not studying trifles and secular literature, I shall
give thanks to God, who has not suffered your mind
to be polluted with the blasphemous praises of the
wicked, and we shall then confer, safely and with
out hesitation, on the subject of your requests." 5
Our countryman, Alcwin, was probably born
about the year 735, devoted to the church as soon
as he was weaned, and brought up in it. His
biographer, who was his contemporary, or within a
few years of him, tells us that, when a child, he
frequented the daily services of the church, but was
apt to neglect those which were performed in the
night. When he was about eleven years old, it hap
pened that a lay-brother who inhabited a cell6

8 Lib. IX. Ep. xlviii.
6 These cells were little establishments which rose up like offsets
round monasteries, and properly consisted of a few (perhaps from
two to half a dozen) monks placed there by the superiors of the
monastery, and living under its rule, either that they might be on
the spot for the protection and cultivation of property belonging to
the monastery — or because they desired to lead a more solitary life
than they could do in the monastery — or because applications for
admissions were so numerous, that in order to admit those who
applied it was necessary that some of the older monks should
swarm out — or because those who had given certain property had
made it a condition that monks should be settled on the spot. The
reader will imagine that, if not so originally (as in most cases it
was) the cell generally became a farm ; and often the oratory grew
into a church, a monastery, a town, &c.

NO. XI.] OF PROFANE LEARNING. 201
belonging to the monastery was one day, by some
accident, deprived of his usual companions, and
petitioned the schoolmaster of the monastery that
one of the boys might come up and sleep there that
night, being, perhaps, afraid to pass the hours of
darkness alone. Alcwin was sent, and they retired
to rest, and when, about cock-crowing, they were
waked by the signal for service, the rustic monk
only turned in bed, and went to sleep again. Not
so Alcwin, who soon perceived, with horror and
astonishment, that the room was full of daemons.
They surrounded the bed of the sleeping rustic, and
cried — " You sleep well, brother ! " He woke im
mediately, and they repeated their salutation.
" Why," they added, " do you alone lie snoring here
while all your brethren are watching in the church ? "
Quid multa? says the historian; and, indeed, every
body may guess what ensued. They gave him an
awful drubbing, which, we are told, was not only
very beneficial ,to him, but was matter of warning
and rejoicing (cautelam et canticum) to others. In
the meantime poor Alcwin, as he afterwards related,
lay trembling under the persuasion that his turn
would come next, and said in his inmost heart — " O,
Lord Jesus, if Thou wilt deliver me from their
bloody hands, and afterwards I am negligent of the
vigils of Thy church and of the service of lauds,
and continue to love Virgil more than the melody of
the Psalms, then may I undergo such correction ;
only I earnestly pray that Thou wouldest now
deliver me." Alcwin escaped ; but in order to
impress it on his memory, his biographer says, he
was subjected to some farther alarm. The daamons,
having finished the castigation of his companion,
looked about them and found the boy, completely
covered up in his bedclothes, panting and almost
senseless. " Who is the other that sleeps in the
house ? " said the chief of the daemons. " The boy,
Alcwin, is hidden in that bed," replied the others.
Finding that he was discovered, his suppressed

202 DARK-AGE VIEW [NO. XI.
grief and horror burst forth in tears and screaming.
His persecutors being restrained from executing all
that their cruelty would have desired, began to
consult together. An unfortunate hiatus in the MS.
prevents us from knowing all that they said ; but it
appears that they came to a resolution not to beat
him, but to turn up the clothes at the bottom of the
bed and cut his corns, by way of making him
remember his promise.7 Already were the clothes
thrown back, when Alcwin jumped, up, crossed
himself, and sung the twelfth Psalm with all his
might. The daemons vanished, and he and his com
panion set off to the church for safety.8
Some readers will perhaps doubt whether all the
monks were in the church during this scene in the
cell ; but, without arguing on the daemonology of
the story, I quote it to show the nature of the sin
which lay on the child's conscience when he thought
that he was in the hands of devils. He was, as his
biographer had before said, even at that early age,
" Virgilii amplius quam Psalmorum amator;" but
he received a lesson which he never forgot. Speak
ing of him in after life, and when he had become
celebrated as a teacher, his biographer says : — " This
man of God had, when he was young, read the
books of the ancient philosophers and the lies
of Virgil, which he did not wish now to hear,
or desire that his disciples should read. ' The sacred
poets,' said he, ' are sufficient for you, and there is
no reason why you should be polluted with the
impure eloquence of Virgil's language.' Which
precept, old Sigulfus endeavoured secretly to dis
obey, and for so doing he was afterwards publicly
brought to shame. For, calling his sons, Adalbert

7 As the passage now stands it is: — "Non istum verberibus,
quia rudis adhuc est, acris .... pedum tantum, in quibus
duritia inest calli, tonsione cultelli castigemus, et emendationem
sponsionis nunc suae confirmabimus."
8 Mab. Acta SS. Ord. Bened. torn. v. p. 140.

NO. XI.] OF PROFANE LEARNING. 203
and Aldric, whom he was then bringing up, he
ordered them to read Virgil with him in the most
secret manner, forbidding them to let anyone know
of it, lest it should come to the knowledge of Father
Alcwin. Alcwin, however, calling him to him in
his usual manner, said : ' Where do you come from,
Virgiliane ? and why have you begun and designed,
contrary to my will and advice, and even without
my knowledge, to read Virgil ? ' Sigulf us, throwing
himself at his feet, and having confessed that he
had acted most foolishly, humbly did penance ;
which satisfaction the indulgent father, after re
buking him, kindly received, admonishing him not
to do so any more. The worthy man of God,
Aldric, who is still alive, and an abbot, declares
that neither he nor Adalbert had divulged the
matter to anyone ; but had, all the time, as they
were directed, kept it secret from everybody."9
Passing over about a century, we are told by the
biographer of Odo, Abbot of Clugni (who lived
until 942), that he was so seduced by the love of
knowledge, that he was led to employ himself with
the vanities of the poets, and resolved to read the
works of Virgil regularly through. On the following
night, however, he saw in a dream a large vase, of
marvellous external beauty, but filled with in
numerable serpents, who, ¦ springing forth, twined
about him, but without doing him any injury. The
holy man, waking, and prudently considering the
vision, took the serpents to mean the figments of
the poets, and the vase to represent Virgil's book,
which was painted outwardly with worldly elo
quence, but internally defiled with the vanity of
impure meaning. From thenceforward, renouncing
Virgil and his pomps, and keeping the poets out of
his chamber, he sought his nourishment from the
sacred writings.1

9 Mab. ibid. p. 149.
1 Mab. ubi sup. torn. vii. p. 187.

204 DARK-AGE VIEW [SO. XI.
After another century — that is, about the middle
of the eleventh— we find Peter Damian blaming
those monks " who go after the common herd^ of
grammarians (grammaticorum vulgus), who, leaving
spiritual studies, covet to learn the vanities of
earthly science ; that is, making light of the Rule of
St. Benedict, they love to give themselves up to the
Rules of Donatus ; "2 and, very near the same time,
our Archbishop Lanfranc wrote to Domnoaldus —
"You have sent me some questions respecting
secular literature for solution ; but it is unbecoming
the episcopal function to be occupied in such studies.
Formerly, I spent the days of my youth in such
things ; but on taking the pastoral office I de
termined to renounce them."3 His contemporary,
Geronius, abbot at Centule, was (his biographer
tells us) in his youth accustomed to read the heathen
poets ; and had nearly fallen into the error of
practising what he read.4
Honorius (about 1120), or whoever was the author
of the Gemma Anima?, says — " It grieves me when
I consider in my mind the number of persons who,
having lost their senses, are not ashamed to give
their utmost labour to the investigation of the
abominable figments of the poets, and the captious
arguments of the philosophers (which are wont
inextricably to bind the mind that is drawn away

2 Ap. Mab. ibid. Sasc. III. P. I. Prasf. No. 42, p. xvii.
3 Ibid.
4 " Sed, ut fieri solet, cum adolescens Grammaticas operam
daret, et patulo sensu ipsorum jam carminum vim perpenderet,
animadvertitque inter ea quasdam, quorum omnis intentio hsec est,
ut aut expletas luxurias referant, aut quomodo quis explere
voluerit, vel explere potuerit recenseant : et dum talium assidua
meditatione polluitur juvenis mens casta, turn juvenili fervore, turn
turpium verborum auditione, maxime vero diaboli instinctu ad hoc
cojpit impelli, ut ea faceret quse tantorum Poetarum aestimabat
narratione celebrari." — Chron. Centulen. ap. Dach. Spicil. ii. 338.

NO. XI.] OF PROFANE LEARNING. 205
from God in the bonds of vices), and to be ignorant
of the Christian profession, whereby the soul may
come to reign everlastingly with God. As it is the
height of madness to be anxious to learn the laws of
an usurper, and to be ignorant of the edicts of the
lawful sovereign. Moreover, how is the soul pro
fited by the strife of Hector, or the argumentation
of Plato, or the poems of Virgil, or the elegies of
Ovid, who now, with their like, are gnashing their
teeth in the prison of the infernal Babylon, under
the cruel tyranny of Pluto ? But the wisdom of
God puts the brightest honour on him who, in
vestigating the deeds and writings of the apostles,
has his mind continually employed on those whom
no one doubts to be now reigning in the palace of
the heavenly Jerusalem, with the King of Glory."5
Let me add an extract from the works of a con
temporary, whose name is too well-known, and
whose words are worth copying, because he was
quite a march-of-intellect man. Peter Abelard,
after quoting the statements of Jerome, and saying
that, from the injunction laid on him, some persons
gathered that it was unlawful to read any secular
books, adds, " I conceive, however, that reading in
any of the arts is not forbidden to a religious man ;
unless it may be that by it his greater usefulness
may be hindered; and we must do in this as we
know must be done in some other good things — ¦
namely, the less must sometimes be intermitted, or
altogether given up, for the sake of the greater.
For when there is no falsehood in the doctrine, no
impropriety in the language, some utility in the
knowledge, who is to be blamed for learning or
teaching these things? unless because, as I have
already said, some greater good be neglected or
omitted; for no man can say that knowledge is,

5 Prol. Bib. Pat. torn. X. p. 1179.

206 DARK-AGE VIEW [NO. XI.
strictly speaking, evil. But how greatly this may
be done to our condemnation and confusion every
reflecting person may see ; since we are not only
told that ' the mouth that belieth slayeth the soul '
(Wisd. i. 11), but also that an account will be
required of every idle word. If a Christian chooses
to read for critical knowledge of phrases and forms
of speech, may he not do this sufficiently without
studying the figments of the poets and foolish tales ?
What kind of phraseology, what ornament of
language is there, which the phrase of scripture does
not supply ? Full as it is of enigmatical allegories,
and abounding as it does with mystical language,
what elegances of speech are there which may not
be learned from the mother tongue, Hebrew ?
especially when it appears that the common people
of Palestine were so accustomed to parables, that it
behoved the Lord Jesus to address them in that way
when he preached the Gospel to them. What
dainty can be wanting at the spiritual table of the
Lord, — that is, the Sacred Scripture — wherein, ac
cording to Gregory, both the elephant may swim
and the lamb may walk ? " Then, after proceeding
to show that as much, and as good, language as can be
wanted, may be had from Jerome, Augustine,
Cyprian, and other Christian writers, he says —
" Why then do not the bishops and doctors of the
Christian religion expel from the city of God, those
poets whom Plato forbade to enter into his city of
the world?"6
I might go on with extracts of this kind until we
should come again to De Ranee; but I am afraid
that the reader may think that I have already cited
more testimonies than enough on this point. Should
there, however, be anything like tautology in them,
I beg him to remember that my object in bringing
them forward is to describe and illustrate a feeling

6 Theol. Christ. Lib. II. Mart. torn. V. p. 1238.

NO. X[.J OF PROFANE LEARNING. 207
which existed very generally in the Christian Church
before, and through, and after, the Dark Ages.
That there were, even in those days, reading men, I
hope to show ; and that they did not give the first
place to classical or scientific learning, I allow,
though I cannot admit that it was from pure
ignorance of the sources of information; and the
question naturally arises — What did they read ?
This inquiry I hope to pursue, and to begin by
showing that there were some persons — perhaps a
good many — who read the Bible.

208

No. XII.
" Omissis igitur et repudiatis nugis theatricis et poeticis,
divinarum Scripturarum consideratione, et tractatione pascamus
animum atque potemus vanse curiositatis fame ac siti fessum et
sestuantem, et inanibus phantasmatibus, tanquam pictis epulis,
frustra refici satiarique cupientem." — Adgustinds.
Theee is no subject in the history of mankind which
appears to me more interesting, and more worthy
of investigation, than the actual state of the
Christian church during the dark ages. It is, as I
have already said, with a view to this that I have
entered on this series of papers ; and having now, I
trust, in some degree, cleared the way, by exposing
some popular misstatements, I hope to come more
directly to the point. To begin, then, with an
inquiry respecting the Christian knowledge, or the
means of such knowledge, which existed in those
days ; and to begin this at the beginning — Did they
know anything about the Bible ?
I believe that the idea which many persons have
of ecclesiastical history may be briefly stated thus :
that the Christian church was a sma-11, scattered,
and persecuted flock, until the time of Constantine ;
that then, at once, and as if by magic, the Roman
world became Christian ; that this Universal
Christianity, not being of a very pure, solid, or
durable nature, melted down into a filthy mass
called Popery, which held its place during the dark
ages, until the revival of Pagan literature, and the
consequent march of intellect, sharpened men's wits
and brought about the Reformation ; when it was
discovered that the pope was Antichrist, and that
the saints had been in the hands of the little horn
predicted by the prophet Daniel for hundreds of
years without knowing so awful a fact, or suspecting

NO. XII.] THE BIBLE IN THE DARK AO.ES. 209
anything of the kind. How much of this is true, and
how much false, this is not the place to inquire ;
but I feel bound to refer to this opinion, because
the necessity of describing the church during the
kingdom of the Apocalyptic Beast in such a way as
scarcely to admit of her visible existence, even when
it has not led popular writers on the prophecies to
falsify history, has at least prepared their readers to
acquiesce without surprise or inquiry in very partial
and delusive statements.
There is another point which I would just notice,
because it has given colour to the statements of all
the writers, who, from whatever motive, have main
tained the entire ignorance of the dark ages, — I
mean the complaints made by contemporary writers
of the neglect of the word of God, as well as of the
other sins of those ages. I have before alluded to
something like this of a more general nature, and
will here only give a single specimen ; and that not
so much to prove or illustrate what is plain and
notorious, as because it is somewhat curious and
characteristic in itself, and relates to one of the
most early versions of the Scripture into the
vernacular tongue.
William of Bamberg, as he is commonly called,
who was a monk of Fulda, and afterwards abbot of
St. Peter's by Mersburg (about the year 1070),
wrote a translation, or rather a double paraphrase,
of the Book of Canticles, in Latin verse and
Teutonic prose, to which he prefixed the following
preface : —
" When I look at the studies of our ancestors, whereby they
became famous in respect of the Sacred Scriptures, I am forced to
lament the depravity of this age, when almost every literary
pursuit has ceased, and there is nothing going on but avarice,
envy, and strife. For if there are any who, under scholastic disci
pline, are instructed in grammatical and dialectical studies, they
think that this is enough for them, and entirely neglect the Holy
Scripture ; whereas it is on account of that only that it is lawful
for Christians to read heathen books, in order that they may
perceive the great difference between light and darkness, truth
P

210 THE BIBLE [NO. XII.
and error. Others, however, though they are mighty in sacred
learning, yet, hiding in the earth the talent committed to them,
laugh at those who make mistakes in reading and chanting,
though they take no pains to help their infirmity, either by
instructing them or correcting their books. I found, in France,
that one man, named Lantfrid1 (who had previously been much
distinguished in dialectics, but who had then betaken himself to
ecclesiastical studies), had by his own acuteness sharpened the
minds of many in the Epistles of St. Paul and the Psalms ; and
as many of our countrymen flock to hear him, I hopethat. after
his example, they also will produce the fruit of their industry in
our provinces, to the benefit of many. And as it often happens
that through an impulse given by generous steeds the half-bred
horse is set a running (although I am not ignorant of the dulness
of my poor genius, yet hoping to have a merciful God for my
helper), I also have determined, according to my small means, to
offer to the studious reader some little help towards improvement.
I have determined, therefore, if God permit, to explain the Song
of Songs, whose very name testifies its eminence, both in verse
and in the Teutonic language, in such a way, that the text being
placed in the middle, these two versions may accompany it down
the sides, and thereby whatsoever is sought may be more easily
found. 1 have added nothing of my own, but have compressed all
I could find in the various expositions of the fathers ; and, both in
the verses and in the Teutonic translation, I have taken more
pains about the sense than the words. Sometimes I repeat the
same verses ; for those things which the Holy Spirit has repeated
in the same words, it does not appear improper for me to repeat in
the same verses. I have thought it good to distribute the parts to
the Bridegroom and the Bride, both in the translation and in the
verses, as well as the text, not only that they may have the greater
appearance of authority, but that the reader may be gratified by
the persons speaking alternately. I do not know whether I am
the dupe of a pleasing delusion ; but if not, surely he who rained
on Solomon hath also condescended to shed some few drops on me.
Sometimes on reading what I have written I am as much
delighted as if it was the work of an approved author. I offer
this little work, as long as I live, to the correction of those who
are more learned ; if I have done wrong in anything, I shall not
be ashamed to receive their admonitions ; and if there is anything
which they like, I shall not be slow to furnish more."2

1 That is, our Archbishop Lanfranc.
2 M. ($• D. I. 501. To this poor monk's own account of his
performance, it is only justice to add the testimony of a learned
Protestant : — " Paraphrasin Willerami mire commendat Junius,
autorem vocat prasstautis ingenii virum, et rerum theologicarum
consultissimum, qui in hac provincia administranda, et vero sensu
connubialis carminis eruendo tanta dexteritate est et fide versatus,

NO. XII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 211
To come, however, to the question — did people
in the dark ages know anything of the Bible ?
Oertainly it was not as commonly known and as
generally in the hands of men as it is now, and has
been almost ever since the invention of printing —
the reader must not suspect me of wishing to
maintain any such absurd opinion ; but I do think
that there is sufficient evidence — (I.) that during
that period the scriptures were more accessible to
those who could use them — (IL) were in fact more
used — and (III.) by a greater number of persons —
than some modern writers would lead us to suppose.
The worst of it is, that the proof must not only be
defective — for on what subject connected with that
period can it be otherwise ? — but that, if by any
means fully produced, it must be so voluminous as
to be quite inadmissible in a work like the present.
It is not by generalizing on particular cases, as has
been the fault of some writers whose statements I
have noticed, but by accumulating a great number
of facts — facts, too, of very different descriptions,
and forming totally distinct parts of the proof —
that anything like a correct idea can be formed. It
is absurd for Robertson to say that monasteries of
considerable note had only one missal, because the
Abbot Bonus found only one in the ruined chapel at
Pisa. It is as absurd in Warton to tell us that " at
the beginning of the tenth century books were so
scarce in Spain that one and the same copy of the
Bible, St. Jerome's Epistles, and some volumes of
¦ecclesiastical offices and martyr ologies, often served
for different monasteries," 3 because old Gennadius,
Bishop of Astorga, thought fit, after dividing many
other books among four monasteries or oratories,
which he had founded in his diocese, to give them

ut paucos habuerit ex antiquis illis, quos se vidisse et legisse
notat, pares ; priorem fere neminem." — Cave, Hist. Lit. torn. ii.
p. 148.
3 Diss. ii.

212 THE BIBLE [NO. XII.
his Bible and some other books as common pro
perty.4 I think it would be quite as fair and as-

4 Warton refers to Fleury, L. LIV. c. liv. but adds, " See other
instances in Hist. Lit. Fr. par Eel Benedict, vii. 3." To this
book I have not access at present ; but I shall be much surprised
to find that it contains other instances sufficient to support this
assertion. Since I wrote this note I have received a letter from a friend
whom I requested to look out the reference, in which he says, " It
is curious that you should be again sent back to your old friend,
the Homilies of Haimo ; the whole passage is not long, and I
shall, therefore, transcribe it. Hist. Lit. torn. vii. p. 3, n. 3.
" ' III. A ce defaut presque generale d'inclination pour les-
lettres, qui avoit sa source dans le genie de la nation, se reunirent
plusieurs autres causes, qui concoururent a entretenir l'ignorance.
Le X siecle n'avoit pas ete suffisant pour reparer les pertes de
livres qu'avoit souffert la France, dans les courses precedentes, les
pillages, les incendies, des Sarasins, des Normans, des Hongrois,
des Bulgares. Quoiqu'on efit travaille d renouveller ces livresr
comme nous I'avons montre, ils etoient encore fort rares, ce qui
rendoit les etudes tres-difficiles. D'ailleurs n'y ai'ant presque que
des moines qui s'occupoient a les copier, ils commencerent par
ceux qu'ils croioient plus necessaires : la Bible et les livres
liturgiques, les ecrits des Peres, les recueils des Canons. Ainsi il
se passa du temps, avant qu'ils pussent transcrire les Historiens,
les Poetes, les Orateurs. Et le defaut de ces ouvrages contribua
beaucoup aux mauvaises Etudes et a, la barbarie qui y regnoit. On
avoit cependant de cette sorte d'auteurs : mais ils n 'etoient pas
communes.— (Mab. an. 1. 61, n. 6). Un trait que Thistoire a
conserve touchant le prix excessif des livres en ce temps-la nous
doit faire juger de leur rarete. Encore s'agit-il d'un auteur
ecclesiastique, le recueil des Homelies d'Haimon d'Halberstat.
Grecie Comtesse d'Anjou,' &c, &c.
" The rest of the paragraph I think I sent you before ; or, at
least, you know its contents . [The reader may find it in No. V.
p. 82.] And it appears that there is nothing whatever about one
book serving many monasteries ; nay, the inference from the whole
passage is the very reverse of the statement for which it is quoted
by Warton ; and it relates, not to Spain, but to France. I there
fore looked in the index of the volume, in hope that the reference
might possibly be misprinted ; but I find nothing at all like the
statement in Warton's text."
I do not wish to lengthen this note by any remarks on this
passage, which I adduce as being the authority on which Warton
relied ; but I have marked one or two words by italics, which
show what an important bearing it has on the subject in general
and particularly on that part with which we are at present engaged!

SO. XII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 213
foolish for me to say, "In the ninth century the
bishops used to write Bibles for their churches with
their own hands," because I find that Wicbert, who
became bishop of Wildesheim in the year 880, did
so. Still such notices are not to be passed over;
and I will here offer a few, to which, I have no
doubt, many more might be added if I had access
to more books. Though I put them first, I beg the
reader not to suppose that I consider them as the
most important part of the proof, but only offer
them as notices not entirely uninteresting in them
selves, and as forming a part, though a small one,
of the proof required.
1. In the first place, then, whoever reads the
writers — perhaps I should say principally the
historians — of those ages will find them not un-
frequently speaking of the Bible. I do not mean
referring to it as an authority, or quoting its
contents, or, if I may so express myself, speaking of
it in the abstract (for this is quite another part of
the subject), but incidentally mentioning the
existence of Bibles at various times, and in places
where they were accessible to many readers. I
need not repeat that the proof must be defective,
not only because we may reasonably suppose that
those copies of the Bible which happen to be thus
incidentally mentioned, in the comparatively few
documents which have come down to us, were but a
very small part of those which were in existence,
but because the instances which I can give are only
such as I happen to have met with in circumstances
not very favourable to research on such subjects.
When Aldhelm, who became bishop of Schireburn
in the year 705, went to Canterbury to be con
secrated by his old friend and companion Berthwold
(pariter Uteris studuerant, pariterque viam religionis
triverant), the archbishop kept him there many days,
taking counsel with him about the affairs of his
diocese. Hearing of the arrival of ships at Dover,
during this time, he went there to inspect their

214 THE BIBLE [NO. XII.
unloading, and to see if they had brought anything
in his way (si quid forte commodum ecclesiastico
usui attulissent nautae qui e Gallico sinu in Angliam
provecti librorum copiam apportassent). Among
many other books he saw one containing the whole
of the Old and New Testament, which — to omit the
incidents for the sake of which the fact is recorded,
but which are not to our purpose — he at length
bought; and William of Malmesbury, who wrote
his life in the twelfth century, tells us that it was
still preserved at that place.5
In the year 780, King Offa gave to the church at
Worcester, among other things, a great Bible —
magnam Bibliam.6
It was probably soon after — for he became bishop
of Orleans about or before the year 794 — that
Theodulfus made his great Bible, which is still in
existence ; at least it was so in the days of Father
Sirmond, in whose works the reader may find the
verses which the bishop prefixed to it, and the
preface, which was written in gold. 7
In the list of books given to his monastery by
Ansegisus, who became abbot of Fontanelle in the
year 823, we find " Bibliothecam optimam continens
vetus et novum Testamentum, cum prsefationibus
ac initiis librorum aureis Uteris decoratis ; " 8 and
among those which he gave to the monastery of St.
Flavian, " Pandecten a B. Hieronymo ex hebraBO vel
graeco eloquio translatum." 9

6 Ang. Sac. ii. 21. 6 Ibid. i. 470. r Sirm. Op. torn. ii. p. 763.
8 Chron. Fontan. ap. Dach. Sp. ii. 280.
9 Ibid. 281. I do not know that this name was ever general,
or that it was used by any writer before Alcwin. In the verses
which he wrote in the copy which he corrected by order of
Charlemagne (and which the reader may find in Baronius, an. 778,
No. xxiii.), he says : —
" Nomine Pandecten proprio vocitare memento
Hoc corpus sacrum, lector, in ore tuo ;
Quod nunc a multis constat Bibliothbca dicta
Nomine non proprio, ut lingua Pelasga docet."
As to the name Bibliotheca, I have already had occasion to

NO. XII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 215
In a return of their property which the monks of
St. Riquier at Centule made, by order of Lewis the
Debonnaire, in the year 831, we find, among a con
siderable quantity of books, " Bibliotheca integra ubi
continentur libri lxxii. in uno volumine ; " and also,
"Bibliotheca dispersa in voluminibus 14." *
In the year 843 the Normans came up the Loire,
and laid waste Nantes, and the surrounding country.
After killing the bishop in his cathedral, with many
of the clergy, monks, and laity who had sought
refuge there, they loaded their vessels with spoil
and captives, and proceeded along the Loire to an
island, where they began to divide their prey. In
doing this, they quarrelled and fought, and many of
them were killed. " The captives, however," says
the historian, " seeing the storm, all fled into the
more inaccessible parts of the island; but among
them there was one who ventured on a very bold
stroke (magna? invasionis audax). He took on his
back the great Bible, which is preserved to this day
[probably in or before the twelfth century] in the
great church of Nantes, and ran off to hide himself,
with the rest, in the mines." The Normans having
fought till they were tired, those who survived were
seized with a panic ; in consequence of which they
gathered up the spoil, and set sail, without troubling
themselves about the captives, who at length got
safe back to Nantes, having lost much in silver, and
gold, and books, and saving only their Bible,
" solummodo Bibliothecain afferentes." 2
It is somewhat curious that, among the little
scraps of history which have come down to us, we

mention that it was the common name for a Bible. It seems to
have arisen (I know not how properly) from the words of Jerome,
who, offering to lend books, says to Florentius, " et quoniam
largiente Domino, multis sacree bibliothecse codicibus abundamus,"
&c.—Ep. VI. ad Flor. torn. i. p. 19. I.
1 Chron. Centul. ap. Dach. Sp. ii. 311.
2 Frag. Hist. Armor, ap. Mart. iii. 830.

216 THE BIBLE [NO. XII.
find a notice of another Bible in the same year, and
very near the same place. In a charter cited by Du
Cange, from the tabulary of the monastery of St.
Maur, on the Loire, we find—" Donum autem con-
firmat Bibliotheca Veteris et Novi Testamenti;"3
the Bible having been used, I presume, in the con
veyance of some property in the way which I have
described in No. V. p. 99. Indeed, it seems as if
they were in the habit of so using their Bible at
that monastery; for in another charter, bearing
date 847, and conveying property to it, we find —
" Donum autem hujus rei est haec Bibliotheca
Veteris ac Novi Testamenti." 4
In the short interval between the dates of these
two charters — that is, in the year 845 — Hamburg
was burned, and the Bible which Lewis the
Debonnaire had given to Anscharius was, with
many other books, destroyed by fire — " Bibliotheca,
quam serenissimus jam memoratus Imperator eidem
patri nostro contulerat, optime conscripta, cum
plurimis aliis libris igni disperiit." 5
Bverhard, Count of Friuli, by his will, dated a.d.
867, divided his books among his children, leaving
to his eldest son " Bibliothecam nostram." 6 This
Count, before the time just specified, had founded a
monastery at Cisoing (a little to the south between
Lille and Tournay), and it appears that a monk
named Wulgarius, who states that he had laboured
in the monastery ever since its foundation, pre
sented to it several books, among which we find
" Bibliothecam 1." 7
Wicbert, who became bishop of Hildesheim in
the year 880, I have already mentioned as writing
a Bible with his own hand. The chronicler who

3 Du Cange in v. Bibliotheca.
4 Given by Baluze Capit. Beg. Franc, torn. ii. p. 1456.
6 Vita S. Anscharii int. add. ad Lambecii Orig. Hamburg.
xiv. p. 59.
6 Dach. Sp. ii. 877. 7 Ibid. p. 879.

SO. XII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 217
records the fact, and who probably wrote in the
twelfth century, says, " Bibliothecam qua? adhuc in
monasterio servatur, propria manu elaboravit." 8
Gennadius, who bequeathed his Bible, as part of
a sort of circulating library, to his four monasteries
or oratories, I have also already mentioned. He
describes it as " Bibliothecam totam." 9
Olbert, who was abbot of Gembloux until the
year 1048, wrote out a volume containing the whole
¦of the Old and New Testament;1 and the unfor-

8 Chron. Ep. Hildesh. ap. Leib. Sc. Brun. I. 743.
9 Mab. A. S. vii. p. 36.
1 This is the person who, under the name of Albert, comes in for "
a sneer from Warton on the page just referred to of his second
Dissertation ; " Albert, Abbot of Gemblours, who, with incredible
labour and immense expense, had collected an hundred volumes
on theological, and fifty on profane subjects, imagined he had
formed a splendid library." The " incredible labour and immense
expense," and the Abbot's own imagination of the splendour of his
library, are, I believe, as purely poetical as anything that Warton
ever wrote. Fleury, to whom he refers, says only, " Etant Abbe,
il amassa a Gembloux plus de cent volumes d' auteurs ecclesias-
tiques, et cinquante d'auteurs profanes, ce qui passoit pour une
grande bibliotheque."— Liv. LVIII. c. Iii. torn. XII. p. 424. The
fact, however, is, that he was a monk of Lobbes, who was sent to
reform and restore the monastery of Gembloux, which was in a
state of great poverty and disorder— exterius ingrueret gravis rei
familiaris tenuitas, interius autem horreret grendis irreligiositas—
and he did, according to the account of his biographer, in a marvel
lously short time, restore discipline, build a church, and provide
many things needful for the monastery, and among others the 150
volumes of books. As to the " incredible labour," we are expressly
told that he set his monks to write, to keep them from being idle ;
and as to the " immense expense," his biographer's remark is, that
it is wonderful how one man, with such slender means, could do so
much as he did. " Non passus enim ut per otium mens aut manus
eorum torpesceret, utiliter profectui eorum providet, dum eos per
scribendi laborem exercet, et frequenti scripturarum meditatione
animos eorum ad meliora promo vet. Appellens ergo animum ad
construendum pro posse suo bibliothecam, quasi quidam Philadel-
phus, plenariam vetus et novum Testarnentum continentem in uno
volumine transcripsit historiam ; et divina? quidem scripturas plus-
quam centum congessit volumina, saxularis vero disciplinse libros
quinquaginta. Mirandum sane hominem unum in tanta tenuitate
rerum, tanta potuisse comparare, nisi occurreret animo, timentibus

218 THE BIBLE [NO. XII,
tunate Bonus, who was abbot at Pisa at exactly the'
same time, gave (as we have already seen) ten
pounds for what he describes as a " liber Biblio-
thece."2 Among the books which Thierry, who became
the first abbot of the restored monastery of St.
Bvroul, or Ebrulf, at Ouche, in the diocese of
Lisieux, in the year 1 050, caused to be written for
that monastery, we find, "omnes libros veteris et
novi Testamenti." 3
Stephen, who became abbot of Beze, in the year
1088, gave the monastery a " Bibliotheca, tam
veteris quam novi Testamenti." 4
Wicbert's Bible, twice mentioned already, did not
prevent Bruno, who succeeded him in the see of
Hildesheim in the year 1153, from presenting to
the library a glossed Bible — " contulit ad ipsum
armarium totum Testamentum novum et vetus,
utrumque glossatum " 6 — and this was followed ,by
another glossed Bible, very carefully elaborated,

Deum nihil deesse." — Mab. A. S. torn. viii. p. 531. The reader
will here observe that use of the phrase " divina scriptura," which
I have before noticed, aud of which it would be easy to give
instances ; one of the most curious is perhaps that in the Burton
Annals (Gale, iii. 264). King John is represented as saying to
the Pope's Nuncio, " unde videre potestis per sacras scripturas
quod beatus et gloriosus rex sanctus Edwardus contulit in tempore
suo Sancto Wulstano episcopatum Wigornias," &c.
2 When I mentioned the Abbot's Bible before (No. IV. p. 47),
I gave a specimen of his latinity ; and this morsel may give me
an opportunity of suggesting to the reader that we are not, in all
cases, to take it for granted that there was nobody better able to
understand, or to describe a book, than the person who happens to
have incidentally noticed its existence, or to have made an inventory
of various things, and of books among the rest. For instance, the
list of books belonging to the church of St. James and St. Chris
topher, at Stedeburg, which Leibnitz gives us (I. 870), begins
with " Liber Genesis Biblia," and contains " Liber in Principio et
evangeliorum secundum Marcum." I do not mention this Bible in
the text, because I do not know the date of this list. The more
modern it is, the more it is to the purpose of this note.
3 Mab. A. S. ix. 136. 4 Chron. Bes. ap. Dach. Sp. ii. 435.
6 Chron. Hildesh. ap. Leib. Sc. Br. i. 747.

NO. XII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 219
and presented by Berno, who succeeded to the see
in the year 1190 — " contulit etiam ecclesia? veteris
ac novi Testamenti libros glossatos et magno
scholasticse diligentise studio elaborates." 6
To these instances I doubt not that a little trouble
would add many more; but I am afraid that the
reader has already found them tedipus, and I will
here only add some notice of a correspondence
between Geoffry, sub-prior of St. Barbara, in
Normandy, and John, the abbot, and Peter, one of
the monks, of Baugercy, in the diocese of Tours,
some time between the dates just specified, and
probably about the year 1170. The sub-prior begins
one of his letters thus : —
" To ;his Venerable Abbot John, Geoffry, the servant of your
holiness, wishes that which is the true health. I received the
letters of your affection, which seemed to my heart to be sweetened
with the honey of love. I read them eagerly ; I now read them
again gladly ; and, often read over, they still please. Of this only
I complain, that you send so few and such short letters to one who
loves you, and whom you love, so much. You seldom converse
with me, and I should like the conversation to be longer. I should
like to hear something from you that might instruct us as to our
life and conversation, relieve the weariness of our pilgrimage, and
inflame us with the love of our heavenly country. I must also tell
you that the excellent Bible (Bibliothecam optimam), of which I
wrote to you long ago, you may still find at Caen, if you wish it."
The Abbot in his reply (which I presume was not
a speedy one, for he begins it with reproaching the
sub-prior that he had been so long silent) takes no
notice of the Bible, unless it be by saying at the
close of his letter, " Peter Mangot salutes you ; to
whom I wish that you would write, and comfort
him in the Lord, and among other things admonish
him about buying a Bible." It seems to have been
the custom of these two friends to add one, two, or
three couplets to their letters, in the way of
marginal notes, referring to the subjects on which
6 Ibid. 749.

220 THE BIBLE [SO. XII.
they were writing. The second of the two couplets
on this occasion is as follows : —
" Ardenti studio sacra perlege dogmata, si vis
Dulcis aquae saliente sitim restringere rivo."
This letter produced one from Geoffry to Peter
Mangot, who seems to have been a monk of Bau-
gercy, who had undertaken and obtained permission
to build a monastery.
" To his beloved and friend Peter Mangot, brother Geoffry wishes
health and perseverance in the work begun.
" God has fulfilled your desire, — you have what you so ardently
sought. You have got what you asked from me, from the King
through me, and from the chapter of Citeaux through the King's
letters, and the help of others. These things, indeed, seemed very
difficult at first, and, from the circumstances of the case, we were
almost in despair ; but God himself looked upon us with an eye of
mercy, and with a strong hand made all things plain before our
face. Go on, then, with increasing devotion in a work that was
first conceived with a devout intention, and devoutly begun ; and
carefully provide all that is necessary for it. Build up a temple
to the Lord of living and elect stones, who may receive you into
eternal habitations. I give thanks to the grace of God which
worketh in you ; I give thanks also to you, who are working
together with that grace ; for the grace of God, which without
you, wrought in you a good will, now worketh by you."
He afterwards adds : —
" A monastery (claustrum) without a library (sine armario) is
like a castle (castrum) without an armory (sine armamentario) .
Our library is our armory. Thence it is that we bring forth the
sentences of the divine law, like sharp arrows, to attack the enemy.
Thence we take the armour of righteousness, the helmet of salva
tion, the shield of faith, and the sword of the Spirit which is the
word of God. See to it, therefore, that in your armory of defence
that which is the great defence of all the other defences is not
wanting. That defence is the Holy Bible, wherein is contained
the right rule of life and manners. There each sex and every age
finds what is profitable. There spiritual infancy finds that whereby
it may grow, youth that which may strengthen it, age that which
may support it, — a blessed hand which ministers to all, whereby
all may be saved. If therefore you have taken care to provide the
arms for this warfare, you will have nothing to do but to say to
him, 'Take thine arms and thy shield, and arise to my help.'
Farewell ! and take care that the Bible, which no monastery
should be without, is bought."

NO. XII.] IN THE BARK AGES. 221
To this letter three couplets are added, of which
the third is as follows : —
" Quamvis multorum multi placeant tibi libri
Hanc habeas, sapias, sufficit ipsa tibi." 7
It does not appear (and as our inquiry relates in
a great degree to the possibility of obtaining such
things in those days, it is worth while to notice the
circumstance) that this recommendation to procure
a Bible had anything to do with the Bibliotheca
optima at Caen; for, in a subsequent letter, the
Abbot John requests his friend Geoffry to secure it
for him.8
All the instances which I have given refer to the
whole Bible, or, as it is expressed in some of them,
the Bibliotheca Integra, or Bibliotheca tota ; but I
must beg the reader's attention to one circumstance,
which is important, if we would understand matters
aright. Undoubtedly Bibles were scarce in those
days ; but we are not hastily to conclude that
wherever there existed no single book called a
Bible, the contents of the Bible were unknown.
The canon of Scripture was settled, indeed, as it is
now ; but the several parts of which the Bible

7 The other four lines have nothing to do with our immediate
subject, but I hope the reader will forgive my quoting them, as
belonging to a writer of the dark ages. From his correspondence,
in which the reader who is not fastidious as to style (or, rather, as
to latinity), may find much that is interesting, I hope at some
future time to give farther extracts. After
" Petrus vocaris firmus esto,"
we find these four lines, or, rather, two couplets, which seem to
have reference to different parts of his letter, and to have been
originally unconnected with each other, as also with the third
couplet quoted above : —
" In Christo petra fidei fundamine jacto
Spe paries surgit, culmina complet amor.
Vivit agendo fides ; ubi non est actus amoris,
Gignit abortivam spem moribunda fides."
8 Mart. i. 502, 509, 514.

222 THE BIBLE [NO. XIT.
consists were considered more in the light of
separate and independent books than they are by
us. To copy all these books was a great under
taking ; and even when there was no affectation of
caligraphy or costly ornament, and when we reduce
the exaggerated statements about the price of
materials to something reasonable, it was not only a
laborious but a very expensive matter. Of course,
writing and printing are very different things. 1
do not pretend to speak with accuracy (for it would
require more trouble than the thing is worth), but
I am inclined to suppose that at this day a copy of
our English Bible, paid for at the rate at which law-
stationers pay their writers for common fair-copy
on paper, would cost between sixty and seventy
pounds for the writing only ; and farther, that the
scribe must be both expert and industrious to
perform the task in much less than ten months. It
must be remembered, however, that the monasteries
contained (most of them some, and many a consider
able number of) men who were not to be paid by
their work or their time, but who were officially
devoted to the business. Of this, however, I hope
to say more hereafter, and to show that there was a
considerable power of multiplication at work. In
the meantime, I mention these circumstances merely
as reasons why we should not expect to meet with
frequent mention of whole Bibles in the dark ages.
Indeed, a scribe must have had some confidence in
his own /powers and perseverance who should have
undertaken to make a transcript of the whole Bible;
and that (except under particular circumstances)
without any adequate motive, supposing him to have
practised his art as a means of subsistence. For
those who were likely to need and to reward his
labours either already possessed some part of the
Scriptures, and therefore did not require a trans
cript of the whole, or, if it was their first attempt
to possess any portion, there were but few whose
means or patience would render it likely that they

no. xii.] Jin the dark ages. 223
should think of acquiring the whole at once. It is
obvious, too, that when copies of parts had been
multiplied, that very circumstance would lead to the
transcription of other parts, which would com
paratively seldom be formed into one volume. We
may well imagine that a scribe would prefer under
taking to write a Pentateuch, or adding the two
next books a Heptateuch, or with one more an
Octateuch, or a Psalter, or a Textus containing one
or more of the Gospels, or a Book of Proverbs, or a
set of the Canonical Epistles, or some one or other
of the portions into which the Bible was at that
time very commonly divided. Of these I hope to
speak hereafter, and only mention their existence
now as one reason why we are not to take it for
granted, that all persons who did not possess what
we call " a Bible " must have been entirely destitute
and ignorant of the Holy Scriptures.

224

No. XIII.
" Sunk in the lowest state of earthly depression, making their
pilgrimage in sackcloth and ashes, pressed by every art and engine
of human hostility, by the blind hatred of the half-barbarian kings
of feudal Europe, by the fanatical furies of their ignorant people,.
and, above all, by the great spiritual domination, containing in
itself a mass of solid and despotic strength unequalled in the
annals of power, vivified and envenomed by a reckless antipathy
unknown in the annals of the passions, — what had they [the
Scriptures] to do but perish ?"
Hitherto I have spoken only of whole Bibles ; and
I have observed, that it would be unreasonable to
expect that we should find notice of any very con
siderable number during the Dark Ages ; not only
because all books were scarce — not only because
such notices, and the finding of them, are merely
accidental — but because the Bible was comparatively
seldom formed into one volume, and more commonly
existed in its different parts. To mention all the
notices which occur of these parts, and all the
proofs which exist, that they must have been
numerous, would be both tedious and useless ; but
it will tend to illustrate, not only the immediate
question before us, but our general subject, if I say
a few words of copies of the Gospels ; at least, of
some which may be worthy of notice, from their
costly decorations, or from the persons by whom
they were possessed, or to, or by, whom they were
presented. I have already said something on the subject of
costly books ; and I only refer to it here in order to
correct a mistake. I stated the case of an "Elector
of Bavaria, who gave a town for a single manu-

NO. XIII.] COPIES OE THE GOSPELS. 225
script"; * whereas I should have said, that he offered
a town for it ; but that the monks, wisely consider
ing that he could, and suspecting that he would,
retake the town whenever he pleased, declined the
exchange. The MS. remained in their library in
the beginning of the eighteenth century ; and is, for
anything that I know, still there.2
I have before referred to St. Jerome's testimony
as to the splendour of some books even in his day ;
and I may just mention the present of the Emperor
Justin to Pope Hormisda, made between the years
518 and 523, and including a splendid copy of the
Gospels — " sub hujus episcopatu multa vasa aurea
venerunt de Grsecia, et evangelia cum tabulis aureis,
cum gemmis preciosis pensantibus lib. 15," &c.3
As to the period, however, with which we are
particularly engaged, Leo III., who was pope when
it began (having been raised to the pontificate in the
year 795), gave to one church " Evangelium ex auro
mundissimo cum gemmis ornatum pensans libras
. . . ; "4 and to another (as I have already stated) a
copy which seems to have been still more splendid.5

1 No. V. p. 87.
2 I made the statement on the authority (as I thought) of
Baring, who mentions the circumstance in his Clavis Diplomatica,
2nd edit. p. 5 ; and the word " obtulit " conveyed to my mind,
from its constant use in charters, diplomas, and all the documents
to which his work has reference, no other idea than that of giving
— that is, offering what was not rejected. Whether he meant this,
I do not know. He might be mistaken on that point, as well as
with regard to its contents ; for it was not a New Testament, but
a book of the Gospels, as we learn from a letter dated 3rd Oct.,
1717, and published by Martene in his second Voyage Litteraire.
The writer says, " Le Livre aux Evangiles que je vis dans
l'Abbaye de Saint Emeram, est encore une rare et tres riche
antiquite, c'est un don de I'Empereur Henry IV. On m'a dit que
Maximilien, grand-pere du Due de Baviere d'a present, ne scavoit
assez l'admirer, et qu'il en avoit offert sa ville de Straubingen avec
ses dependances ; mais les bons moines, persuadez que ce Due les
leur reprendroit ensuite, quand il voudroit, trouverent convenable
de refuser un si bel offre." — p. 177.
3 Cone. iv. 1416. 4 Ib. vii. 1083. 6 See No. V. p. 92.
Q

226 COPIES OP THE GOSPELS [NO. XIII.
When the abbot Angilbert restored the Abbey of
St. Riquier, in a.d. 814, he gave to it (beside two
hundred other books) a copy of the Gospel, written
in letters of gold, with silver plates, marvellously
adorned with gold and precious stones.6
Ansegisus, who became Abbot of Fontenelle in a.d.
823, ordered the four Gospels to be written with
gold, on purple vellum, in the Eoman letter ; and
lived to see the Gospels of St. Matthew, St. Luke,
and St. John completed.7
At the translation of the remains of St. Sebastian
and St. Gregory to the monastery of St. Medard, at
Soissons, in a.d. 826, Lewis the Debonnaire gave
several rich presents ; and, among others, a copy of
the Gospels, written in letters of gold, and bound in
plates of the same metal, of the utmost purity.8
Hincmar, who became archbishop of Rheims in
the year 845, caused a Gospel to be written for his
church in letters of gold and silver, and bound in
gold, adorned with gems ;9 and another, specially
for the crypt to which the remains of St. Remigius
were translated, he bound in the same way (parieti-
bus aureis gemmarumque nitore distinctis muni-
vit1). Leo IV., who became pope two years later, gave
four catholic books (quatuor catholicos libros) to the
church of the Yirgin Mary, thirty miles from Borne
(unum Evangeliorum, alium Begnorum, Psalmorum,
atque Sermonum2),of which I do not find that they
were peculiarly ornamented ; but he gave to another
church a copy bound in silver plates — " codex Evan
geliorum cum tabulis argenteis."3
Of the splendid donations of his successor, Bene-

« Mab. Act. Sanct. 0. B. torn. v. p. 110.
7 Mab. ibid. torn. vi. p. 597.
« Ibid. viii. 388.
8 Flodoardi Hist. Bemen. 1. iii. c. v. ap. Sirmondi Op. torn. iv.
p. 113.
i Ib. c. ix. p. 119. 2 Cone. torn. viii. p. 22. 3 Ib. p. 27.

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 227
diet III., who became pope in a.d. 855, I have
already spoken ;4 and I may here add that during
his time the Emperor Michael sent as a present to
St. Peter's (by the hand of the monk Lazarus,
" pictorias artis nimie eruditi ") a Gospel, of most
pure gold, with divers precious stones.5
Everhard, Count of Friuli, whose will of the year
861 has been already mentioned, beside his Bible,
bequeathed to his children a considerable number of
other books, and among them a Gospel bound in
gold — another in ivory — another in silver — another,
which is not particularly described.6
A charter of William, Abbot of Dijon, relating to
the monastery of Frutari, in Piedmont (and probably
of the year 1014), mentions, among the presents
made to the monks of Dijon, to reconcile them to
the withdrawment of the recent foundation from
dependence on them, " textum unum auro, gemmis
et lapidibus mire ornatum."7
Just in the same year we find the Emperor Henry
II., who has been already mentioned in connection
with Meinwerc, Bishop of Paderborn, making a
similar donation to the church of Mersburg ;8 and a
few years afterwards (in 1022), on occasion of his
recovery from illness, at the Monastery of Monte
Casino, he presented to it a copy of the Gospels,
covered on one side with the most pure gold, and
most precious gems, written in uncial characters,
and illuminated with gold.9 Returning the same
year into Germany, he had an interview with Robert,
King of France, on the banks of the Meuse, the
common boundary of their dominions ; but of
all the rich presents offered by that king — presents
of gold, and silver, and jewels, beside a hundred
horses, completely and sumptuously equipped, and
each bearing a knight's armour — the emperor

* No. V. p. 92. s Cone. viii. 231. 6 II. Dach. Sp. 877.
7 Mab. A. S. viii. 308, et Ann. Benn. an. 1003, xxxiv.
8 Ditmar. ap. i. Leib. 399. 9 Mab. A. S. viii. 400.

228 COPIES OP THE GOSPELS [NO. XIII.
accepted only a copy of the Gospels, bound in gold
and precious stones, and a reliquary of corresponding
workmanship, containing (or supposed to contain) a
tooth of St. Vincent, for himself, and a pair of gold
ear-rings for the empress.1
The biographer, and almost contemporary, of
Ansegisus (who was abbot of St. Riquier, near
Abbeville, and died in 1045), informs us that he
contributed greatly to the enlargement of the
library, and specifies —
" Librum Evangelii, Sancti vitamque Richari
Ipsius studio mero argento decoravit.
Est et Episto-liber-larum, atque Evangeliorum,
Ipsius argento quern industria nempe paravit."2
Desiderius, who became abbot of Monte Casino in
the year 1058 (and who was afterwards Pope Victor
III.), provided his monastery with many costly
books ;3 and the Empress Agnes, who came, as Leo
Marsicanus says, like another Queen of Sheba, from
the remote parts of Germany, to behold another
Solomon, and another temple, made many rich gifts
(dona magnifica) to the church, and, among the rest,
a copy of the Gospels, with one side (or, if I may so
speak, one board) of cast silver, with chased or
embossed work, very beautifully gilt.4
Paul, who became abbot of St. Alban's in the

1 Glab. Rod. ap. Baron, an. 1023, iii.
2 Mab. A. S. viii. 446.
8 Librum quoque Epistolarum ad missam describi faciens, tabulis
aurea una, altera vero argentea, decoravit. Codicem etiam Regulae
B. Benedicti pulcro nimis opere deintus comtum, a foris argento
vestivit ; similiter fecit et de Sacramentoriis altariis uno et altero,
et duobus nihilominus Evangeliis et Epistolario un." Leo Mar.
ap. Mab. A. S. ix. 594. After this we read, " Non solum autem
in sedificiis, verum etiam in libris describendis operam Desiderius
dare permaximam studuit ; " and in a very respectable catalogue of
these books we find, " Evangelium majorem auro et lapidibus
pretiosis ornatam, in quo has reliquias posuit : de ligno Domini et
de vestimentis Sancti Joannis Evangelistse." — Ibid., p. 608.
4 Chron. Cas. Lib. iii. c. xxx. p. 609, and Mab. A. S. ix. 602.

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 229
year 1077, gave to that church " duos Textus auro
et argento et gemmis ornatos." 5
In the same year a charter of Hugh, Duke of
Burgundy, giving the church of Avalon to the
monastery of Clugny (and containing a " descriptio
ornamenti ipsius ecclesia?"), mentions three copies
of the Gospels, which, I presume, formed a part of
the 115 books belonging to it; "Textus unus
aureus, et unus argenteus, aliusque dimidius." 6
In a charter of a.d. 1101, concerning the church
at Beze, we find a Textum Evangelii, " coopertum
de argento," used in the manner already repeatedly
referred to, in the conveyance of property.7
The author of the history of the monastery of St.
Hubert-en- Ardennes (who wrote in 1106) tells us
that in his time there was remaining in the monas
tery a very fine copy of the Gospels, adorned with
gold and gems.8
Ralph, Bishop of Rochester, in 1114, gave a
" textum pulchre deauratum " to his church;9 but
I do not feel certain that in this case the word
" textus " means, as it generally does when it
stands alone (as it obviously does in the cases
hitherto mentioned), a copy of one or more of the
Gospels. There can, however, be no doubt as to the gift
of Walter, a successor in that see, who became

5 M. Paris, Vit. S. Alb. Abb. torn. i. p. 51.
6 Dach. Spic. iii. 412.
7 Chron. Bes. ap. Dach. Spic. ii. 436.
8 " Superest optimus sanctorum Evangeliorum textus auro gem-
misque paratus ; superest psalterium auro scriptum per denos
psalmos capitalibus litteris distinctum." IV. M. & D. 919.
Martene adds, in a note on the word " psalterium," — " Hactenus
servaturin Andaginensi monasterio pretiosissimum psalterium auro
elegantissime exaratum, non a Ludovico Pio, ut credit auctor, sed
a Lothario ipsius filio donatum, ut probant versus qui initio codicis
reperiuntur." The verses, and a full account of this psalter, with
a copy of the portrait of Lothaire contained in it, he has given in
his second Voyage Litteraire, p. 137.
9 Ang. Sac. i. 342.

230 THE BIBLE [NO. XIII.
bishop in 1148, and gave "textum Evangeliorum

aureum."1

Perhaps the instances which I have given are
more than enough to induce a suspicion that copies
of the Gospels, and even such as were of a splendid
and costly description, were not unfrequently to be
met with even in the Dark Ages ; and yet they are
not the notices which most strongly and obviously
lead to such an opinion. Some may even consider
the fact that a book was given to a church, or a
monastery, as implying that it was not already
possessed ; and I will therefore add one or two
instances, which show that churches not uncom
monly (I believe I might say all churches that were
at all respectably endowed and appointed) had more
than one such book.
We are not, I apprehend, to suppose that the
monastery of Glastonbury had no copy of the
Gospels when Brethwold (who had been a monk
there, and became bishop of Salisbury perhaps in
a.d. 1006) sent them two.2
Olbert, already mentioned (p. 217), as abbot of
Gembloux until a.d. 1048, gave to his monastery
(beside the Bible which is there mentioned) one
gold and three silver copies of the Gospels, and one
silver copy of the Epistles.3
Among the furniture of his chapel, bequeathed
by King Robert (whose present to the emperor
Henry has been noticed at p. 227) to the church of
St. Anian, at Orleans, were " deux livres d'Evan-
giles, garnis d'or, deux d'argent, deux autres
petits." 4
John, Bishop of Bath in 1160, implied a bequest
of more than one copy to the Abbey church when
he left to the blessed apostle St. Peter, and to his
servants the monks (inter alia), all that he had
collected "in ornamentis ecclesiasticis," or, as he

1 Ibid. 345. 2 Guil. Malm. ap. Gale, torn. iii. 325.
3 Mab. A. S. viii. 530. 4 Fleury, t. xii. p. 491.

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 231
proceeded to specify, " in crucibus, in textibus, in
calicibus," &c.5 I quote this instance because the
reader will observe that these costly books were
considered as a part of the treasure of the church,
rather than merely as books ; and, indeed, the
bishop bequeathed them as a distinct legacy from
his whole library (plenarium armarium meum),
which he also gave to the church.
For this reason, and not for this only, I will also
mention another case, although — perhaps I should
say because — it is nearly a century more modern
than the period with which we are engaged. At a
visitation of the treasury of St. Paul's, in the year
1295, by Ralph de Baudoke, or Baldock, the Dean
(afterwards bishop of London), it appears that
there were found twelve copies of the Gospels, all
adorned with silver, some with gilding, pearls and
gems ; and another, which presents an unusual
feature — " Textus ligneus desuper ornatus platis
argenteis deauratis cum subtili triphorio in supe-
riori limbo continens xi capsas cum reliquiis ibidem
descriptis." 6 I call the decoration of the Gospels
with relics an unusual feature, because, though I
have not intentionally suppressed it, it has appeared
in only one of the cases already mentioned ; and,
common as the custom might afterwards be, I do
not believe that it was so (if indeed it could be said
to exist as a custom at all) before the thirteenth
century. I know of only one other exception,
which belongs to the twelfth century, and will be
noticed presently.
There is another circumstance which throws some

5 Dugd. Mon. i. 186.
6 Dugd. Monast. iii. 309, 324. Beside the parts of the Scrip
tures mentioned above, there were six Epistolaria, four Evange-
listaria, two Bibles (one " de bona litera antiqua," and the other
" in duobus voluminibus nova peroptimse literse"), a glossed copy
of the Epistles of St. Paul, the same of the Gospels of St. Luke
and St. John, two copies of St. Matthew and St. Mark, with the
commentary of Thomas Aquinas, and the twelve prophets, glossed.

232 THE BIBLE [NO. XIII.
light on this point. It may be supposed that great
care was taken of these books ; and in fact they were
frequently kept in cases as valuable, in respect of
ornament, as themselves. Often, indeed, I appre
hend, the case was the most valuable of the two,
and is mentioned among the treasure of the church
when the book which it contained is not noticed
because there was nothing uncommon about it, and
no particular circumstance as to its writer or donor
which was thought worthy of record. From some
of the notices, however, of these cases or coverings,7
we get farther ground for supposing that there
were not unfrequently a good many copies of the
Gospels in a church or monastery. For instance,
in the St. Riquier return, already more than once
referred to, beside the Bibles which I have noticed,
and beside three other copies of the Gospels and
five lectionaries containing the Epistles and Gospels,
we find, " Evangelium auro Scriptum unum, cum
capsa argentea gemmis et lapidibus fabricata. Alios
capsas evangeliorum dua? ex auro et argento
paratse." 8 A passage, too, in Ado's Chronicle,

7 Capsa;, or coopertoria — for it is not necessary to speak of the
camisiw (chemises) librorum, which I suppose to have been only
washable covers to keep the books clean, — or thecae, or, as I have
only once found the word used, bibliotheca;. At the dedication of
Ripon church, Archbishop Wilfred (who lived till 711)
"  quatuor auro
Scribi Evangelii prsecepit in ordine libros,
Ac thecam e rutilo his condignam condidit auro."
(Godwin de Prses, 654.)
Or, as the prose historian who wrote soon afterwards informs us,
it was a sort of miracle such as had not been heard of before their
times, being written with the purest gold on purple vellum, and
contained in a superb case, — " necnon et bibliothecam librorum
eorum omnem de auro purissimo, et gemmis pretiosissimis fabre-
factam, compaginare inclusores gemmarum prascepit." — Edd. Steph.
ap. Gale, Ser. XV., p. 60. Another name was cavea, as the
reader may see in Du Cange, who quotes from Eckhardus, junior
(who wrote about the year 1040), " fit de auro Petri cavea Evan
gelii," &c.
8 Chron. Cent. ap. Dach. Spic. ii. 310.

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 233
given by Du Cange, seems to imply that the place
to which it refers had several copies, " Viginti
capsas evangeliorum ex auro purissimo, gemmario
opere caslatas ; " 9 and William of Malmesbury,
in the account which he gives of the chapel
which King Ina made at Glastonbury, tells us that
twenty pounds and sixty marks of gold were used
in making the " Coopertoria Librorum Evangelii." 1
Two objections which may be made to the evidence
arising from these capsce, though they do not seem
to me to be of any weight, it may be fair to mention;
— first, we are not certain that the owners always
had quite as many books as they had cases for hold
ing them ; and, secondly, as these capsas were very
costly and ornamental, those who wrote the history
of their monasteries might be tempted to pretend
that they had more than they really possessed. If,
however, these same monkish chroniclers, in des
cribing their premises, had told us that the abbot's
stable contained twelve or twenty stalls, we should
be apt to infer, that though some stalls might be
empty, or the number of the whole exaggerated, it
was nevertheless no very uncommon thing for an
abbot to be pretty well furnished with horses ; and
some such inference, confirmed as it is by direct
evidence, I think we may fairly draw with regard to
books. Hitherto I have only spoken of those costly and
precious volumes which, as I have already remarked,
were considered as belonging to the treasury, rather
than to the library, of the church. They were, I
apprehend, for the most part, brought out only on
festivals, the church being provided with others for
daily use. Thus Berward, who became bishop of
Hildesheim in the year 993, and who was (as we
learn from his fond old schoolmaster and biographer,
Tangmar) a man skilful in the arts — if I may use

9 In v. Capsce. * Ap. Gale, Ser. XV. 311.

234 THE BIBLE [NO. XIII.
such a word in speaking of such a period, — " fecit
et ad solemnem processionem in praecipuis festis,
Evangelia auro et gemmis clarissima;" 2 and Martin,
the monk of Moutier-neuf, at Poitiers, tells us, that
on the anniversary of their founder (Count Geoffry
or William, who died in 1086), they used to perform
mass in much the same way as on festivals ; and he
adds, " nee aureus textus deest." 3 Indeed, I need
not say that such a style of binding could not have
been adopted for books in general, or books in
common use. To have bestowed such pains and
expense on books for private use, or for any use
but that of the church, would have been inconsistent,
perhaps, with the ideas of some strict ascetics, and
at any rate it could never have become general.4
Others, perhaps, beside Godehard (the successor of
Berward just mentioned, in the see of Hildesheim),
had a fancy to adorn their books (though I appre
hend that here we must understand service-books)
with small stones of white, or black, or red, or
variegated hues, cut and polished after the manner
of gems. He used to set the children, and those

2 Leib. Ser. Brun. i. 445. Mab. A. S. viii. 184.
3 Hist. Mon. Novi. ap. Mart. iii. 1218.
4 Thus the Abbot Esaias, in his Prsecepta, " ad fratres qui cum
ipso vivebant," and in that part which is particularly addressed
" ad fratres juniores," says, " Si librum tibi ipse compegeris, in eo
ne elabores exornando. Est enim vitium puerile." By the way,
in that same section he goes on to give directions as to the mode
of receiving strangers, among which he says, " et posteaquam
sederit, quomodo se habeat, quEere, et nihil amplius, sed libellum ei
aliquem legendum praebe;" and afterwards "Si peregre proficiscens
diverteris apud aliquem, et ille domo egrediatur, et te solum
relinquat, oculos tuos ne sustuleris, ut quas ibi sunt, vasa, et supel-
lectilem aspicias. Fenestram, aut arcam, aut librum aperias,
cave." — Bib. Pat. torn. iii. c. 887. Ed. 1575. I do not pretend to
decide when these precepts were written, which have perhaps
nothing to do with the period, or the part of the world, to which
my remarks are particularly directed ; but it must have been, I
think, at some time and place where books were not extremely rare
things, and where one might expect to find them lying about a

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 235
•
paupers who were not fit for other work, to collect
such pebbles; and a crippled servant of the
monastery, who was glad to do what little he could,
was particularly useful in that matter;5 but
generally, I apprehend, the binding of books was in
parchment or plain leather.
" About the year 790," says Warton, " Charle
magne granted an unlimited right of hunting to the
abbot and monks of Sithiu lor making their gloves
and girdles of the skins of the deer they killed, and
covers for their books. We may imagine that these
religious were more fond of hunting than reading.
It is certain that they were obliged to hunt before
they could read, and at least it is probable that
under these circumstances they did not manufacture
many volumes." 6 This passage I have read over
many times, and I really cannot make any sense of
it. Why should Charlemagne's grant induce such
suppositions ? Why are we to imagine that these
monks loved hunting better than reading ? Why
must they hunt before they could read ? Why is it
probable that they did not ' ' manufacture " (a
strange term for binding a book, and one which looks
as if Warton supposed that they were to write on
buck-skin) " many volumes under these circum
stances," the chief circumstances being (according

5 " Quicquid tamen a pueris fieri vidit, quod vel sedendo vel
proreptando agere potuit ; in hoc se voluntaria utilitate studiosus
exercuit, nee prorsus aliquod tempus, nisi cum somnum vel cibum
caperet, transire sibi patiebatur, quin semper in aliquo utilis esse
videretur. Consuetudo namque dilecto nostro pontifici fuit ut
puerulos, vel etiam pauperes validiores seepius per plateas, vel per
defossas petrarum foveas ageret, qui sibi lapillos minutos quosdam
nivei coloris, vel nigri, vel rubri interdum, vel varii, deferrent :
quos ipse elimatos, et politos variaque collisione vel confricatione
in similitudine pretiosorum lapidum redactos, aut in altaribus, aut
libris, aut in capsis honeste collocavit. In quo nimirum opere,
prajdictus ille pauper se privatim exercuit, et caeterorum industriarn
utiliter prsevenit, etpro curiositate tali episcopo penitus complacuit."
Vita Godehardi ap. Leib. Ser. Brun. i. 500.
6 Dissert, ii. prefixed to his Hist, of Poetry.

236 THE BIBLE [»0. XIII.
to his account) an " unlimited " right to hunt for
leather, granted by the sovereign of such extensive
dominions ? I cannot help suspecting that there
may be a meaning in the passage which I am not
acute enough to perceive, for to me the grant
appears rather to intimate that the monks who
obtained such a privilege must have done (or, to
say the least, must have been supposed to do) a
good deal in the way of book-binding.
But here, as in too many of the facetious anec
dotes of the dark ages, when we turn out the
reference we find that the story is false, not only as
to the spirit, but the letter. The charter stands,
indeed, as Warton tells us, "Mab. de Re Dipl. 611,"
but as soon as we look at it, the " unlimited right "
becomes sadly circumscribed; and as to the jolly
abbot and his sporting monks, " paf — all should be
gone," like " de great Peolphan " and his spectre
train. The limitation of the grant to the woods
belonging to the monastery is express, and is
even reduced by the exception of such royal forests
as were set apart for the emperor's diversion ; and
the fun of the religious hunt is entirely spoiled by
the fact that the permission is not for the monks,
but for the servants, of the monastery, to hunt for
the useful purposes specified in the charter.7 That

7 " Concessimus Autlando abbati et monachis ex monasterio
Sithiu  ut ex nostra indulgentia in eorum proprias silvas
licentiam haberent eorum homines venationem exercere, unde fratres
consolationem habere possint, tam ad volumina librorum tegenda,
quamque et manicias et ad zonas faciendas, salvas forestes nostras,
quas ad opus nostrum constitutas habemus." The emperor then
goes on to charge all his subjects, to whom the charter is addressed
(omnium fidelium nostrorum magnitudini) , that they should not
presume to oppose the exercise of this privilege by the abbot, his
successors, and their men (abbate, aut successoribus suis, seu
hominibus eorum — but nothing of the monks), "nisi liceat eorum
hominibus ut supra diximus ex nostra indulgentia in eorum proprias
silvas venationem exercere." Indeed, who that knew anything of
Charlemagne or his laws could expect to find him patronizing a
company of mere sporting monks ? Let me give two short

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 237
charter, as far as I see, contains nothing which
should lead us to suppose that the monks of Sithiu
ever hunted at all, or that " these religious " were
inferior to the modern priest who has held them up
to scorn, either in the knowledge or the practice of
that which their character and station required.
There is however another point relating to these
costly books which must not be omitted. Their
extraordinary value would of course lead to their
being taken great care of — but then it would also
render them peculiarly liable to destruction. It is
probable that such books were among the " insignia
ornamenta" of the church of St. Benignus at Dijon,
when they were stolen on one of the anniversaries
of the patron saint's day in the eleventh century;8
and the soldiers who plundered Nigel, Bishop of
Ely, in the time of King Stephen, thought it worth
while to carry off a copy of the Gospels adorned
with relics.9 But beside downright and forcible
robbery, or even fraudulent abstraction, there were
many reasons why these books were liable to be
destroyed. Though it does not enter into the design
of this paper to refer to the present state, or even
the present existence, of such manuscripts (and,
indeed, I purposely avoid speaking of some, merely

instances from his Capitularies, one earlier, and the other more
recent, than the charter in question : — " Omnibus servis Dei
venationes et silvaticas vagationes cum canibus, et ut accipitres et
falcones non habeant, interdicimus." This is only a repetition of
previous enactments by his predecessors, made probably quite at
the beginning of his reign. In 802 we find " Ut episcopi, abbates,
presbyteri, diaconi, nullusque ex omni clero canes ad venandum,
aut acceptores, falcones, seu sparvarios habere prassumant ; sed
pleniter se unusquisque in ordine suo canonice vel regulariter
custodiant. Qui autem prassumpserit, sciat unusquisque honorem
suum perdere. Cseteri vero tale exinde damnum patiantur ut
reliqui metum habeant talia sibi usurpare." — Capit. edit. Baluz.
torn. i. 191, 369.
8 " Latronum fraude in ipsius sancti festivitate, occisis custodibus
furto fuerunt asportata." — Mab. A. S. viii. 301.
9 Ang. Sac. i. 622.

238 THE BIBLE [NO. XIII.
because they are known to be now in existence, and
therefore belong to another part of the subject), yet
as I have mentioned the Bible presented by Lewis
the Debonnaire in the year 826, I may here add that
Mabillon tells us that it was still in existence, with
silver plates, which had been supplied by the Abbot
Ingrannas in the year 1168, to replace the original
golden ones which had somehow disappeared.
Of course, various things — charity and need, as
well as cupidity, — were likely to produce what was
then termed excrustation, and to risk, if not almost
to ensure, the destruction of the manuscript itself.
Charity, — as when all the valuables (omne ornamen-
tum in auro et argento) belonging to the church of
St.Benignus of Dijon were sacrificed to provide
relief for the poor in the famine of a.d. 1001 ;* or
when, five years afterwards, Odilo, Abbot of Clugni,
having exhausted all other sources, was obliged to
apply the sacred vessels to the same object.2 Need,
— as when, in order to meet the heavy tax laid by
William Rufus to raise money for the purchase of
Normandy, Godfrey, Abbot of Malmesbury (pessi-
morum usus consilio, quos nominare possem, si peccan-
tium societas crimen alleviare posset magistri, says
William the historian), stripped no less than twelve
copies of the Gospels; 3 or when William de Long-
champ, who became bishop of Ely in the year 1190,
contributed one hundred and sixty marks towards
the redemption of King Richard, and, to raise the
money, pawned thirteen copies of the Gospels,
including one of great value which had belonged to
King Edgar.4
That books thus pawned did not always find their

1 Mab. A. S. torn. viii. p. 300.
2 " Exhaustis in egentium usus horreis et ajrariis, sacra etiam
vasa confregerit." — Mab. Ann. an. 1006, torn. iv. 170.
3 Die uno xii. textus Evangeliorum, viii. cruces, viii. scrinia
argento et auro nudata et excrustata sunt,"— Vita Aldh. ap Ann
Sac. ii. 44. r' y'
4 Ang. Sac. i. 633.

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 239
way back may be imagined ; and indeed we are told
that three books, adorned with gold and silver and
precious stones, were lost to the Abbey of Laurisheim
about the year 1130, owing to their advocate,
Bertolf, having been allowed by the abbot, Diemo,
to raise money upon them. Whether these copies
of the Gospels ever ran a risk of having the inside
as well as the outside falsified, and a false reading
or gem substituted for a true one, I do not know ;
but it is certain that a " textus aureus " belonging
to the church of Ely was once pledged to the Jews
of Cambridge. This, however, belongs rather to the
dangers arising from cupidity, if we may trust
Richard of Ely, who mentions the circumstance in
his long list of the depredations committed by
Nigel, already mentioned.5 This source of danger
is indeed obvious enough; and I will here give only
one other instance, which I am unwilling to omit
because it refers to a considerable number of copies.
The historian who relates the destruction of Hide
Abbey, near Winchester, tells us that Henry, who
was bishop of that see from a.d. 1129 to 1174, got
the monastery into his hands. After it had been
burned in the year 1141, the monks got out of the
ashes sixty pounds of silver, and fifteen pounds of
gold, and various other things, which they brought
to the bishop, who subsequently committed the care
of the monastery to Hugo Schorchevylene, a monk
of Clugni, whom he made abbot. This monk
6 " Item pro parvo textu aureo et pro ansa argentea dedit v.
marcas cuidam de Thetford ; et prseterea uno anno abstulit de
Sacristaria xxiv. marcas et vi. solidos. Antea vero prajdictam
crucem et textum similiter pro minimis transposuerat Judasis apud
Cantebrigge, quae gloriosus rex ssepe dictus Edgardus ob signum
libertatis sua? et munificentias ibi donavit : et ne tanto muniminis
titulo frustrarentur, Monachi dederunt cc. marcas per manus
"Willelmi prioris." — Hist. Elien. ap Ang. Sac. i. 625. As to the
importance of the Jews of Cambridge a few years before this time,
see Fuller's History of the University, p. 4, § 11, 12 ; but in his
quotation from Peter of Blois he omits his testimony that a
principal object of Gislebert's preaching was the refutation of

240 THE BIBLE [NO. XIII.
having, by the bishop's direction, dispersed thirty
out of the forty monks, laid hands on the treasures
of the church, and stripped- ten copies of the
Gospels.6 It may probably be said, that too many of those
who gave and received these costly volumes thought
more of the outside than the inside, and even forgot
that the rich cover enclosed the more precious Word
of God ; — it may have been so, though I hope not
always, — but I beg the reader to take care that he
does not fall into much the same error. I hope he
will not forget that, whether in sackcloth and ashes,
or in gold and silver, each of the books which I
have here spoken of was the Gospel of Christ.
Should he think that, although tiresome for their
sameness, these instances are not in fact very
numerous, I would repeat that they are only such
as have occurred to me, in circumstances not the
most favourable for research ; and I must add, that
while I have met with these notices of the Scriptures,
and with many others which I hope to bring forward
in this argument, I have not found anything about
the arts and engines of hostility, the blind hatred of
half-barbarian kings, the fanatical fury of their sub
jects, or the reckless antipathy of the popes. I do
not recollect any instance in which it is recorded that

Judaism ; and that, in fact, several Jews were converted by it.
" Verbum Dei ad populum prasdicans . . . contra Judaicum
errorem maxime disputabat . . . cumque nonnulli increduli et
adhuc Judaica perfidia caecati ad ejus verba in sinum matris
ecclesise, relicto penitus suo pristino errore, compuncti accurrerunt,"
&c. — Pet. Bles. ap. Rer. Ang. Ser. torn. i. p. 114.
6 " Manum in sanctuarium Domini extendens, cruces quinque,
scrinia decern, textus totidem auro argento gemmisque pretiosis
ornatos, . . . excrustavit." — Dug. JUon. i. 210. One cannot
suppose that this sort of spoliation was known to the bishop, whose
taste for costly ornament was so fully proved. In particular,
Giraldus Cambrensis tells us that " Cathedralem ecclesiam suam
palliis purpureis et olosericis cortinis et aulasis preciosissimis,
textis, philateriis, crucibus aureis . . . usque ad regum invidiam
exornavit." — Ang. Sac. torn. ii. p. 421.

NO. XIII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 241
the Scriptures, or any part of them, were treated with
indignity, or with less than profound respect. I know
of no case in which they were intentionally defaced
or destroyed (except, as I have just stated, for their
rich covers), though I have met with, and hope
to produce several instances, in some of which they
were the only, and in others almost the only, books
which were preserved through the revolutions of the
monasteries to which they belonged, and all the
ravages of fire, pillage, carelessness, or whatever
else had swept away all the others. I know (and in
saying this 1 do not mean anything but to profess
my ignorance, for did I suppress such knowledge I
might well be charged with gross dishonesty) of
nothing which should lead me to suppose that any
human craft or power was exercised to prevent the
reading, the multiplication, the diffusion of the
Word of God. When, therefore, after having
written almost all the foregoing pages, a periodical
work fell into my hands containing the passage
which stands at the head of this paper, I could not
resist the temptation to borrow it as a motto. In
so using it I mean no offence to the gentleman from
whose tercentenary sermon it purports to be an ex
tract, but only to call the attention of the public to
the different views which are held, and the different
statements which are made, on a very interesting
subject, in the hope that truth may be thereby
elicited. Whether, however, the Scriptures were exposed
to this treatment in the dark ages, or not, I hope to
show as the next step in the argument that there are
still in existence many copies which belonged to that
period; and in the meantime to draw the reader's
attention to some circumstances which, to my own
mind, render it a matter of astonishment that we
possess so many.

E

242

No. XIV.
" Still I am not satisfied ; and the stubborn fact of scarcity
inclines me to suspect that the pens of the monks were less con
stantly employed than many would induce us to believe." —
Bekington. Without entering into any question here as to what
may, or may not, be properly called scarcity, in re
gard to ancient manuscripts, let us assume that its
existence is a stubborn and undeniable fact; yet
that fact may, perhaps, admit of some explanation.
Suppose there are but few manuscripts in existence,
it is no proof that but few were written ; and,
indeed, I must say, that from what I have been able
to learn respecting the real number, of which this
surviving scarcity consists, and the circumstances
under which they have been preserved, I can only
wonder that we have so many — or, I am almost
tempted to say, that we have any — manuscripts
seven or eight hundred years old. It is, however,
quite clear, that if we would form any opinion of
the state of literature, or means of knowledge, in
the Dark Ages, we must, in some degree, enter into
this question, and cannot pass it over with a slight
allusion to the ravages of time. It is necessary to
our design ; and I am inclined to hope, that a short
and superficial sketch, such as the nature of these
essays admits, may not be altogether uninteresting.
As a great part of my illustrations will be drawn
from the reports of some literary travellers, I will
first give some notice of them, in order that I may
hereafter refer to them with more brevity, and that
such of my readers as are not acquainted with the
books may understand my references.
Between the 16th of April and the 10th of June,
1682, Dom Mabillon, accompanied by his brother

NO. XIV.] LITERARY TRAVELS. 243
Benedictine, Michael Germanus, made a journey
through Melun, Sens, Auxerre, Dijon, Verdun,
Chalons sur Saone, and Autun, to Lyons, and re
turned by way of Moulins. In the course of this
excursion they visited Citeaux, Clugni, and many
other monasteries, and overhauled their manuscripts ;
the object of their journey being to examine, or to
search for, some documents relating to the royal
family. How far this was openly avowed, and
whether it was known even to the younger of
the two travellers, I cannot tell ; but Mabillon's
acknowledged supremacy, in all such matters,
naturally pointed him out to the minister Colbert
as the fittest person to be sent on such an errand.
That he executed it with skill and fidelity, and, at
the same time, took an opportunity of doing a little
business in his own way, of antiquarian research,
nobody will doubt. Two years after, he drew up
an account of his tour ; and it was subsequently
printed under the title of " Iter Burgundicum. " *
The next year, they went, by the same order,
through part of Germany, taking the route of Basil,
Zurich, Augsburg, Munich, &c. They set out on
the 30th of June, and appear to have returned in
October. Mabillon prefixed an account of this
journey to his " Vetera Analecta," under the title
of " Iter Germanicum. " 2
In the year 1685, at the suggestion of Le Tellier,
Archbishop of Rheims — the brother of the minister
who had succeeded Colbert, and the owner of 50,000
volumes — Mabillon was sent, at the royal cost, to
investigate the libraries of Italy, and to procure
books for the king's library. He set out, with the
same companion as before, on the 1st of April, and
returned in the June of the following year. The
royal library was enriched by the addition of 3,000
volumes ; and Mabillon published an account of the

1 It will be referred to as, It. Burg. 2 It. Germ.

244 LITERARY TRAVELS. [^0. XIV.
journey, in the first volume of his " Museum Itali-
cum," under the title of " Iter Italicum." ;
Again this father set out in the year 1696, accom
panied by another Benedictine — the well-known
Ruinart ; and, between the 20th of August and the
10th of November, they travelled through most of
Alsace anci , Lorraine, conducting themselves^ in
respect of all libraries' n^ich they could meet with,.
in the way which might be ^expected from them.
Ruinart drew up an account of ••-the journey, which
he entitled.; " Iter Litterarium in Alsniiam et Loihar-
ingiam." 4 v
When Father Montfaucon had compiled the
Benedictine edition of " Athanasius," he became
convinced that the Greek fathers could not be
properly edited without first ransacking the libraries
of Italy for manuscripts ; and therefore (permissu
superiorum) he and Bather Baul Brioys set off for
that purpose on the 18th of May, 1698, and did not
return until the 11th of June, 1701. In the course
of the next year he published his " Diarium Itali
cum;"6 which was, I believe, the year after, trans
lated into English.
The Benedictines of St. Maur — that learned body,
to which all the travellers hitherto mentioned belonged
— having determined to undertake a new edition of
the " Gallia Christiana," resolved to send one of their
number to collect what materials he could, for correc
tion and addition, from the various libraries, churches,
and monasteries of France. "Laresolution,"saysDom
Edmund Martene, " en fut prise a Marmoutier au
chapitre general del 708, et comme j'etois sur les lieux,
et qu'on scavoit que Dieu m' avoit donne quelque petit
talent pour lire les anciennes ecritures, je fus un
des premiers sur lesquels on jetta les yeux."
Nothing could be more natural, as it respects the
Chapter ; and, perhaps, as to Martene, though he

3 It. Ital. * It. Alsat. 5 Diar. It.

NO. XIV.] LITERARY TRAVELS. 245
might sincerely feel all that he says of the vastness
of the undertaking, nothing more agreeable. He
set out accordingly on the 11th of June, and
travelled until the 23rd of December, when he got
back into winter quarters at Marmoutier, just in
time to avoid being exposed to a more inclement
season than any which the oldest persons living
could remember. Being informed that he must set
out again as soon as Easter was past, he begged to
h;ive a companion. This request being granted, he
chose Dom Ursin Durand, and they set out together
on the 4th of April. In short — for I am not writing
the history of their travels — that year, and the four
which succeeded (except when they were in winter
quarters), were spent in making various circuits, in
the course of which they visited a great part of
France; the whole time, from Martene's first setting
out to their joint return on the 16th of Nov., 1713,
being five years and a half; or, so far as travelling
was practicable, we may perhaps more correctly
say, six years. Martene tells us, that they visited
about a hundred cathedrals, and at least eight
hundred abbeys; in which they failed not to examine
whatever manuscripts they could find. In so doing,
they not only fulfilled their commission, as it
regarded the " Gallia Christiana," but met with a
vast quantity of unpublished matter, of various
sorts, which they gave to the world in the year
1717, in five folio volumes, under the title of
"Thesaurus Novus Anecdotorum; " and it is the work
which (having explained myself in No. II. p. 34 n.)
I have since frequently quoted, under the brief
reference "Mart." In the same year that this large
work was brought out, Martene published an
account of these six journeys, in one volume quarto,
entitled, "Voyage Litteraire de deux Religieux Benedic-
tins de la Congregation de Saint Maur ,¦ " and it is to
this which I now refer.6 6 I. Voy. Lit.

246 LITERARY TRAVELS. [WO. XIV.
Having published these collections of his journeys,
there was nothing, Dom Martene tells us, which he
less expected than to set out again on his travels :
yet so it was. A new edition of the ancient
historians of France was projected; and our two
travellers were requested to go and look for
materials, to render it as full and correct as possible.
They accordingly set out on the 30th of May, 1718,
from the neighbourhood of Paris ; passed through
Soissons, Rheims, Amiens, Brussels, Liege, Aix-la-
Chapelle, Dusseldorf, and penetrated as far into
Germany as Paderborn — returned by Cologne,
Treves, Luxembourg — and got back in January,
1719. By that time, the scheme of publishing the
early historians had been abandoned; but the
travellers had accumulated a great quantity of
curious matter. Their former labours, and the
published fruits of them, had brought them invita
tions to ransack Germany and Spain ; and though
they could not accept them, yet literary contribu
tions poured in from those quarters : much, also,
that Mabillon had previously collected, but not
published, was thrown into the common stock ; and
when the work came forth in 1724, the editors felt
justified in calling the nine folio volumes, " Veterum
Scriptorum et Monumentorum historicorum, dogmati-
corum, moralium, amplissima collection It ^is the
work which I have quoted by the reference
" M. £f D. ; " but at present, our business is with
the single quarto volume in which Martene gave an
account of this journey. He published it under the
same title as the former; but, for the sake of
distinction, I shall refer to it as his second literary
tour.7 From these sources, it would be easy to show
that there are — or, at least, that there were, a little
more than a hundred years ago, which is quite
sufficient for the purposes of our inquiry — a good
7 II. Voy. Lit.

NO. XIV.] DESTEUCTION OE MSS. 247
many ancient manuscripts in existence; but for that
fact there are better proofs; and it is not my
present object to prove it. I quote these literary
tourists, not to show that manuscripts are numerous;
but as incidentally furnishing illustrations of the
reasons why they are so few, and why we may
reasonably wonder that they are not fewer still. It
is grievous, for instance, to read such notices as
those which both Mabillon and Martene have given
of the state of things at Clugni. They found the
old catalogue (Mabillon says four, Martene five or
six, hundred years old), written on boards three
feet and a half long, and a foot and a half wide, and
covered with parchment — grandes tablettes, qu'on
ferme comme un livre — but of the books which it
contained (ex copiosissimo illo numero), they could
find scarcely one hundred. "On dit," says Martene,
that the Huguenots carried them to Geneva ; but be
this as it may, they were gone somehow.8 Such
was the case, also, at Nonantula, where, of all its
former riches (ex multis quos celeberrima olim ilia
Abbatia habebat veteres codices), Mabillon found
but two manuscripts.9 At Rebais, Martene says,
"II y avoit sans doute autrefois beaucoup de
manuscrits dans l'abbaye, mais apres des revolutions
si etranges, a peine y en reste-t-il quelques-uns ; " 1
and, at the Abbey of Beaupre, " II y avoit autrefois
beaucoup de manuscrits ; mais nous n'y en vimes
que deux ou trois." 2
But the fact that the manuscripts were gone in
places which had possessed considerable collections,
will be sufficiently proved incidentally; and my wish
is rather to call up to the reader's mind those
causes which may account for it, by a brief and
superficial enumeration of them.
I. — I hardly know how to arrange these causes ;
but, as it is of little consequence, I will first advert
8 It. Burg. 22 ; I. Voy. Lit. 227. 9 It. Ital. 202.
1 1. Voy. Lit. P. ii. 73. 2 lb. 166.

248 DESTRUCTION OF MSS. [NO. XIV
to one of the most powerful, but one which, through
the distinguishing mercy of God, can hardly be
appreciated among us. No man living has known
anything like war in our country; and even in
modern Europe generally, the mode of warfare, the
circumstances of places taken by siege or by storm,
as to their liability to be burned or utterly destroyed,
and the fact that most books are now produced by
hundreds or thousands at a time, make so great
a difference, that we can scarcely institute a
comparison. When, however, the word war is
mentioned, it will readily occur to the reader, that
among the desolations of fire and sword, manuscripts
did not escape destruction ; but I wish to raise a
more particular idea of the dangers to which they
were exposed, and the destruction which they
actually suffered from certain wars during and since
the period with which we are engaged.
Think, in the first place, of the ravages of the
Danes and Normans in the ninth century ; accounts
of their cruel desolations meet us at every turn in
monastic history. It may easily be conceived, that
at all times, — at least, all early times, — monasteries
and churches were likely to form a nucleus, both
from their being the places most likely to contain
spoil, and from their being (next to those which
were regularly fortified) the places of greatest
strength. Hence they became peculiarly obnoxious
to destruction, and particularly to destruction by
fire. As to the desolation of monasteries by these
barbarians, however, the shortest way to give some
idea of them would be to copy the article
" Normanni," in the index of the third volume of
Mabillon's Annals, in which he gives a list of the
monasteries of his own order which were pillaged
or destroyed. Even that, however, would be too
long to insert here ; but it begins, " Normanni,
monasteria ab eis incensa, eversa, direpta, — ;
Amausense, — ; Arulense, — ; Arvernense S. Illidii,
— ; Autissiodorense sancti Germani, — ; Barden-

NO. XIV.] BY WAR. 249
eiense, — ," &c. ; and so the index goes on through
the alphabet, naming between seventy and eighty
Benedictine monasteries. It is impossible to doubt,
and, indeed, in some cases it may be proved, that
there was a great loss of books. When, for instance,
the Abbey of Peterborough, in Northamptonshire,
was burned by the Danes in the year 870, there was
a large collection of books destroyed — sanctorum
librorum ingens bibliotheca? The language of
lngulph may provoke a smile; and I assure the
reader that I do not want to make mountains of
mole-hills, or to catch at a word in any writer of
the dark ages. But I cannot consent to sneer away
the statement to nothing ; and the rather because,
though it may not be easy to say what the abbot's
idea of an " ingens bibliotheca " was, yet, as will
presently appear, he uses no such expression in
speaking of the library of seven hundred volumes
belonging to his own monastery which was burned
in his own time — that is, in a.d. 1091.
Again, " when the black swarm of Hungarians
first hung over Europe, about nine hundred years
after the Christian sera, they were mistaken by fear
and superstition for the Gog and Magog of the
Scriptures, — the signs and forerunners of the end
of the world." 4 There would be no use in detailing

3 Ingul. ap. Gale. V. Ser. p. 23.
4 As it is a principal part of my design to draw attention to the
misrepresentations of popular writers, I cannot help offering a
remark or two on the note which Gibbon adds to his words which
I here quote (Dec. and Fall, vol. v. p. 548) : — " A bishop of
"Wurtzburg submitted this opinion to a reverend abbot ; but he
more gravely decided, that Gog and Magog were the spiritual
persecutors of the church ; since Gog signifies the roof, the pride
¦of the Heresiarchs, and Magog what comes from the roof, the
propagation of their sects. Yet these men once commanded the
respect of mankind. Fleury, Hist. Eccles. torn. xi. p. 594, &c."
I do not know why Gibbon says " a bishop of Wurtzburg" when
his authority Fleury and D'Achery (Fleury's only authority) say
Verdun; nor do I know how he learned that "¦these men" ever
¦commanded the respect of mankind, for it seems as if there was

250 DESTRUCTION OP MSS. [NO. XIV.
such particulars as are handed down to us ; it is
always the same horrid tale of barbarous outrage
and destruction. I will here only refer to one case^
partly out of respect to our friend the Abbot Bonus,

some doubt who the bishop was — and as to the " reverend abbot,"
I believe no one pretends to guess who he was, or of what country.
Could it be shown, therefore, that these two persons, whoever they
might be, held a foolish opinion on a very obscure point, and main
tained it by mere nonsense, yet that would not go far towards
showing that the respect of mankind in the tenth century was
misplaced, in so far as it was given to bishops and abbots. The
document exists, however, merely as " Epistola cujusdam Abbatis
Monasterii S. Germani ad V. Episcopum Virdunensem de Hungris."
Neither the bishop nor the abbot seem to have given any credit to
the notion of the Hungarians being Gog and Magog. In writing
to the abbot, the bishop appears (for I believe his letter is not
extant, and is only known by the answer) to have mentioned that
the idea was current in his diocese, and to have desired him to-
look at the prophecy of Ezekiel, and let him know what he
supposed to be its meaning. That the bishop did not express or
imply any belief in the opinion, may be presumed from the terms
in which the abbot (after saying that it was current in his part of
the world also) sets it down as mere nonsense — frivolam esse et
nihil verum habere — contrasted with the language of deep respect
and affection in which he addresses the bishop. But farther — the
sarcasm can scarcely be said to touch either of the parties ; for the
abbot gives the notion about Gog and Magog being the roof, and
the heretics, &c, as the exposition of Jerome, without the
expression of any opinion as to its correctness ; unless indeed we
may find something like apology in the language of the single
sentence of comment which he bestows on it — " quse quia a B.
Hieronymo exposita sunt, et brevitas epistolae plura de his dicere
non permittit." He then goes on to inquire who the Hungarians
really were, whence they came, and how it happened that they had
not been mentioned in history, considering the extent of the Roman
conquests and researches — had they been known under some other
name ? " sicut solent mutari urbium vel locorum seu fluminum
nomina. Nam Tiberis quondam Albula dicebatur. Unde Virgilius
' amisit priscum Albula nomen ; ' et Italia prius Saturnia dicebatur ;
sicut idem poeta, ' et nomen posuit Saturnia tellus,' " &c. The
letter, on the whole, is such as that I cannot but hope that the
Writer did command the respect of his age. Whether the wretched
infidel who thought fit to sneer at him will command the respect
of those who take the trouble to look out his authorities, they who
see such a specimen as this may fairly question. Fleury refers to-
Dae. Spic. xii. 349 ; in the folio edition it is at torn. iii. 368.

NO. XIV.] BY WAR. 251
who was brought up there, though it was before his
time, in the days of Abbot Leopard, who presided
there from the year 899 to 912; and principally
because, as I have just said, Mabillon found only
two manuscripts at Nonantula.5 In the first or
third year of Abbot Leopard, after a great battle
on the river Brenta, in which many thousands of
Christians were slain, the pagans advanced to
Nonantula, killed the monks, burned the monastery
with many books (codices multos concremavere),
and ravaged the whole place.
I pass over the irruption of the Saracens into
Italy ; but, though it is lamentable to carry on the
history of desolation as the work of Christians, yet
truth requires me to notice what may be called
religious, or, more properly and emphatically, irreli
gious, wars. Happily the books which I have
mentioned as furnishing illustrations relate chiefly
to France, and we will not at present look elsewhere.
The Dean and Chapter of St. Theudere, near Vienne,
says Martene, " nous comblerent d'honnetete, et
nous communiquirent, de la meilleure grace du
monde, ce qui leur reste d'anciens monumens de la
fureur des heretiques. Car ces impies brulerent en
1562. toutes les chartes." 6 " Nous fumes de la a
Tarbe, ou nous ne trouvames pas grand travail,
l'eglise cathedrale et tous les titres ayant ete brule
par les Calvinistes, qui, dans toute le Beam et dans
la Bigorre, ont laisse de funestes marques de leur
fureur." 7 — "Pour l'abbaye de St. Jean [at Thouars],
elle est beaucoup plus ancienne, mais les ravages
qu'y ont fait les Calvinistes le siecle passd, en ont
dissipe la plupart des monumens."8 Grimberg I
must reserve for another purpose, and here only
mention that it had been destroyed and its library

6 Of course I do not mean that they had none in the meantime.
I hope under another head to show that they had many, of
whose fate fire and sword were guiltless.
6 I. Voy. Lit. 252. 7 1. Voy. Lit. P. ii. p. 13. » Ib. p. 5.

252 DESTRUCTION OE MSS. [NO. XIV.
burned by the Huguenots ; and as I do not wish to
repeat the same cases, even for the illustration of
different points, I here only mention the neighbour
ing monastery of Dilighen, of which Martene says —
" Cette abbaye a eprouve le meme sort que celle de
Grimberg. C'est a dire, qu'elle a 6t6 rui'nee par les
heretiques. Aujourd'hui on la retablit, et on lui a
redonne son premier lustre; " except, of course, in
one respect, for he adds, " L'eglise est fort jolie
 la bibliotheque assez bonne, mais il n'y a
que tres-peu de manuscrits qui ne sont pas de con
sequence." 9 At another monastery (near Ferte sous
Jouarre, not far from Meaux), Ruinart says,
" Sperabamus nos ibi in archiviis aliquid forte
reperturos  at monasterii chartas a Calvin-
ianis penitus combustas fuisse nobis responsum
 supersunt in bibliotheca aliquot codices
manuscripti; " and, after specifying a good many
works, he adds, " quse non sunt magni momenti." l
Much the same injury had been suffered at the
monastery of Fleury, where Mabillon found but a
few relics of the vast collection which had been
destroyed in the religious wars of the preceding
century.2 The effects of war were, indeed, too
frequently visible ; but not to tire the reader with
repetition, — yet without repetition how can I
impress on him the extent of the mischief ? — some
other notices of the destruction produced by what
may be termed general or common warfare shall be
thrown into a note, and I will proceed to speak of
another cause of destruction.3

9 II. Voy. Lit. 112. !It. Alsat. 415.
2 " Penes quos quidam adhuc reliqui sunt ex innumera ilia
veterum librorum copia, qua? superiori sseculo, furente hseresi,
direpta est." It. Burg. 30.
3 Take the following instances — Of the abbey of Brunwillers,
"Martene says, " Comme le monastere a beaucoup souffert par les
guerres, et qu'il a ete sujet comme les autres aux revolutions, on
ne doit pas etre surpris s'il n'y a plus qu'un manuscrit des lettres
de Ciceron." (II. Voy. Lit. 269.) " Le Roi Louis XIV. ayant

NO. XIV.] Br FIRE. 253
II. I need not insist on the liability of manuscripts
to be destroyed by accidental fire, especially at a
time when so many were kept in wooden buildings.
Our travellers, however, continually furnish us with
such notices as these, most of which are quite
modern. At Rheims, "L'egiise cathedrale et
l'archeveche ayant ete brulez dans le douzieme
siecle, toutes les archives furent pour lors con
sumers par le feu."4 — At Gembloux, "Nous
passames la matinee a voir ce qui restoit de
manuscrits de l'incendie generale du monastere." 5
— At the monastery of the Jacobins at Liege, " II
y avoit autrefois une assez bonne bibliotheque ;
mais il y a quelques annees que tous les manuscrits
perirent dans un incendie, qui consuma entierement
le monastere." 6 — At Lucelle, " L'incendie qui con
suma tout le monastere en 1699 nous priva du
plaisir d'y voir une tres-riche bibliotheque en manu
scrits, que les flammes ont reduit en cendre, avec
le religieux qui y etoit entre" pour tacher de les
sauver." 7 — " Ce que nous venous de rapporter nous
fait voir que les six incendies qui sont arrivees a
S. Wast, n'ont pas tout consume, et nous font aise-

soumis Luxembourg a la force invincible de ses armes, l'abbaye de
Munster eprouva ^une seconde fois le sort de la guerre, et fut
entierement ras£e  apres tant de revolutions ou ne pouvoit
pas s'attendre a faire des decouvertes dans la bibliotheque. En
effet, nous n'y avons trouve que cinq ou six manuscrits." (II. Voy.
Lit. 302.) St. Arnoul at Metz, " Cette abbaye  fut
entierement rasee avec celles de Saint Clement, de Saint Symphorien,
de Saint Pierre, et de Sainte Marie, au siege de Mets forme par
l'empereur Charles-quint." (I. Voy. Lit. P. ii. 112.) At
Othmersheim, " Cette abbaye, etant exposee au theatre de la guerre,
a perdu ses anciens monumens, et nous n'y trouvames rien qui dut
nous arreter." (I. Voy. Lit. P. ii. 143.) La Chartreuse, by
Liege, " II y avoit autrefois beaucoup de manuscrits ; mais le
monastere ayant este entierement reduit en cendres dans les
dernieres guerres, ils ont tous este consumez dans les flammes.
II n'y a que les sermons de Jacques de Vitry, en quatre ou cinq
volumes, qui ayent echappe a l'incendie." (II. Voy. Lit. 183.)
* I. Voy. Lit. P. ii. 79. s II. Voy. Lit. 117.
6 II. Voy. Lit. 182. 7 I. Voy. Lit. P. ii. 141.

254 DESTRUCTION OF MSS. [NO. XIV.
ment juger des tresors immenses que nous y trou-
verions, si nous avions tout ce que les flammes nous
ont ravi." 8— The abbey of Loroy, " Qui ayan fete"
entierement bruise il y a environ quarante ans, n'a
conserve aucun de ses anciens monumens.'"'
I do not wish to be tedious on this point, but I
am irresistibly tempted, first of all, just to allude
to the conflagration of the monastery of Teano, near
Monte Casino, which was burned, as Leo Marsicanus
says, "cum omnibus operibus suis," in the year
892, because, among those "opera" it is said that
the original copy of the Rule of St. Benedict
perished,1 and then to give one or two anecdotes
respecting what may be called accidental burning
of monasteries, as contra-distinguished from those
conflagrations which took place in the wars. I give
them not as proofs that such things happened, for
that is naturally to be supposed, and is sufficiently
attested by history, but as stories illustrative both
of one particular point and of our general subject.
Thieto, who was abbot of St. GalVs, in the year
937, was a strict disciplinarian ; and this was very
sensibly felt, not only by the monks, but by the
school-boys. St. Mark's day being a holiday, some
of the latter had got into mischief (qusedam
errata commiserant) which the monitors (censores
scholarum quos circatores vocabant) reported to the
masters. Sentence having been passed on the
guilty, one of them was sent to the upper part of
the building to fetch rods. By way of anticipatory
revenge for his flogging, or as a desperate resource
to avoid one, the boy took a brand from a fire and
placed it under the dry wood which was next to the
roof. This quickly took fire, and the flames, driven
by the wind, soon seized the tower of the church.
The monastery was almost entirely burned, and

8 II. Voy. Lit. 65. 8 1. Voy. Lit. 36.
1 Mab. Ann. torn. iii. p. 263.

ISO. XIV.] BT FIRE. 255
many books were lost (multi libri amissi), though
they were in time to save the church bells and
furniture. The writer who relates the story, adds,
"that from this mischief, the monks of St. Gall
took a great dislike to the scholars, and some
thought that the school ought to be entirely given
up, but he suggests that the loss which the
monastery sustained by this occurrence was more
than counterbalanced by the credit which it had
gained through the scholars whom it had sent
forth."2 If it had not happened in the same year, I should
not have mentioned the burning of the famous
monastery of Fulda, because I do not know how
it happened, and cannot prove that the library was
burned ; and where there are cases enough of
positive evidence, it is not in general worth while
to notice that which is merely presumptive, how
ever strong it may be ; and of this monastery and
its library I hope to find a fitter occasion to speak.
" Towards the evening of that day," says the
historian of the monastery of Lawresheim or Lorsch
(a few miles east of Worms), speaking of the 21st
of March in the year 1090, " after that, following
the example of the carnal Israel, the people had sat
down to eat and to drink, and risen up to play, it
happened that, among other games, a disc, set on
fire at the edge in the usual way, was whirled in
the air by a soldier.3 Being driven round with
great force, and presenting the appearance of a
circle of fire, it forms a spectacle which pleases,

2 Mab. iii. Ann. 407.
3 " Inter caetera ludorum exercitia discus in extrema marginis
ora (ut solet) accensus, militari manu per aera vibrabatur ; qui
acriori impulsu circumactus, orbicularem flammse speciem reddens,
tam ostentui virium quam oculis mirantium, spectaculi gratiam
exhibet." I do not quite understand this, but I suppose it must
have been some kind of circular wheel or circular frame, whirled by
a strong arm, and presenting some such appearance as a Catherine
wheel.

256 LOSS OF MSS. [no. XIV.
not only the eye by its appearance, but as an
exhibition of strength. This being whirled by
someone who did not keep sufficiently fast hold, it
flew, by his unintentional cast, on the top of the
church. Sticking fast there, between the wooden
tiles and the old beams, it set fire to the place.
What need of many words ? In the first place,
the flame seized on the tower, which was made with
admirable woodwork,4 and in which were the bells,
and their ropes being burned they could not be
used to give the alarm. It then seized all the
upper part of the building, the towers, and the
porches. At length the dropping of the melted
lead, with which all the roof was covered, rendered
it utterly impossible to go in or get anything out.
Then was the face of things miserable — so many
excellent buildings, of the church as well as of the
whole monastery — so many fine ornaments devoured
by the sudden ravages of the flames, a few only
saved with great exertion and risk, either snatched
with the hand or broken away with the axe or
hatchet from the very midst of the fire." 5
I hope to give the reader another story somewhat
similar, and more graphic; but, though I am not
apprehensive of his thinking it tedious, it would
extend this paper to an unreasonable length ; and
therefore, in the meantime, and before I speak of
some other causes, I will take the opportunity of
briefly adverting to a point which cannot be fairly
passed over.
It is somewhat anticipating to say so, but in fact

4 " Castellum mirabili dolatura fabrefactum." I do not under
take to decide the precise meaning of dolatura in this place, and
therefore translate by general terms only ; but I suppose that we
may in fact understand it to refer to those small, neat, wooden
tiles (if I may use the expression, as I have done above, in trans
lating tegulas, because the historian tells us that all the roof was
covered with lead) which, in some parts of Europe, may still be
seen forming the roofs or fronts of houses.
6 Chron. Laur. ap. Freher. p. 81. Edit. 1600.

NO. XIV.] BT FIRE. 257
there are still so many manuscripts of some sorts in
existence, that it has been very warmly contended
by some learned men that a great part at least must
be forgeries, because it is impossible that so many
should have survived the perils to which such things
have been exposed. On such an occasion as this, I
must only just glance at what have been called the
Bella diplomatica, and my sole reason for referring
to them at present is, to show that those causes of
destruction which I have already specified have
been considered by learned men as sufficient to
account for (indeed, I may say, to require) a
greater scarcity of manuscripts than actually exists.
" They say," says Ludewig, " that since all the
kingdoms of Europe have carried on so many wars,
and Germany in particular has been subject to such
intestine commotion, no doubt all ancient documents
have thereby perished, which led to the forging of
new and supposititious ones. But, as nobody
doubts respecting the destruction of manuscripts
through these causes, so there were also reasons
why they might escape. For soldiers, intent on
gold and silver, and other things which they could
turn to account, were, as they are now, careless
about writings, especially considering the ignorance
and contempt of letters which then prevailed among
them. To this we may add, that even amidst the
outrages of war, the soldiers were restrained by
superstition from laying hands on the literary
treasures of the bishoprics." He goes on after
wards to speak of fire, and represents his opponents
as saying that there is scarcely to be found a city, a
monastery, or a habitation of any confraternity of
any kind which has not been more than once the
subject of a conflagration, in which all its documents
have perished. "This also," he replies, "is most
true ; for my own part, I declare that I have never
been in any archives in Germany, though I have
visited them without number, where the keepers
have not attributed their deficiencies to fires which

258 LOSS OF MSS. BT FIRE. [NO. XIV.
had destroyed those very documents which were
most important." [He adds in a note, " The keeper
at Mayence told the same story in 1705. When I
inquired for their documents of earlier date than the
period of Frederic I., he answered, ' that they had
all perished when the castle and the court, which
were of wood, were burned.' "] " But," he goes on
to say, " even in the most tremendous fires, the first
care is commonly to preserve the public archives
from destruction ; nor do I hesitate to commend the
prudence of the celebrated Maskowsky, Chancellor of
Darmstadt, who, when the castle and principal
palace were on fire, proposed and paid a reward to
those who, at the risque of their lives, went into the
lowest story, which was well arched, and brought
the written documents out of the archives, which
were thus saved like brands plucked from the
burning. The same thing we may reasonably
suppose to have been done in older times by
prudent, keepers." 6
I did not like to pass over this point without some
notice ; but the reader will at once perceive that
there is an important difference between the case of
which I am speaking and that to which Ludewig
refers. Indeed, so far as our subject is concerned,
I really have the suffrage of both parties in this
diplomatic war in my favour. Those who contend
that wars and fires must have destroyed the
diplomas, charters, deeds, and other comparatively
small and portable manuscripts of the dark ages,
will readily grant that books were not likely to
escape ; and those who reply, as Ludewig justly
does, that such documents would be kept with
peculiar care, and saved first, and at all hazards,
in case of danger, would not think of extending
their argument to such manuscripts as we are con
cerned with.

Reliq. Manuscript. Pref. p. 84, 85.

259

No. XV.

" Domus sanctificationisnostrseet gloria? nostras, ubi laudaverunt
te patres nostri, facta est in exustionem ignis, et omnia desyderabilia
nostra versa sunt in ruinas." — Is. lxiv. 11.

Somewhat more than eleven hundred years ago, a
young man of noble family quitted the military
service, and. entered a monastery. By the time that
he had been a monk two years he had become
acquainted with the lives of the early ascetics, and,
like many other monks, at various times, and
especially in the earlier centuries of monasticism, he
resolved to imitate them. Having discovered a
wretched and solitary place, suited to his design,
among the fens of Lincolnshire, Guthlac, com
mending himself to the special patronage of St.
Bartholomew, for whom he had peculiar respect,
took up his abode there on the festival of that saint,
in the year 699. Some years afterwards, Ethelbald,
then an exile and a wanderer, came to the hermit,
with whom he was wont to consult, and whom he
called his father confessor, for advice in his distress,
— ut ubi consilium defecit humanum, divinum
acquireret, — and received from his lips a prediction
that he should come to the throne of Mercia without
battle or bloodshed. Ethelbald declared that, in
that case, he would found a monastery on the spot
to the praise of God, and in remembrance of his
father Guthlac; and when the prediction was
fulfilled, in a.d. 716, he lost no time in performing
his promise. Instead of the wooden oratory of the
ascetic, he built a stone church, and founded a
monastery, which he endowed with the whole island

260 FOUNDATION OF [NO. XV.
of Croyland, on which it stood, by a charter, which
begins thus : —
" Ethelbald by divine dispensation King of the Mercians, to all
that hold the catholic faith, everlasting salvation. I give thanks,
with great exultation, to the King of all kings, and Creator of all
things, who has hitherto with long-suffering sustained me while
involved in all crimes, has drawn me with mercy, and raised me up
in some degree to the confession of his name. Wherefore it is
good for me to cleave unto God, and to put my trust in Him. But
what shall I render unto the Lord, for all thimgs which He has
given unto me, so that I may be pleasing before Him in the light
of the living ; since without Him we have nothing, we are nothing,
and we can do nothing; For the Author of our salvation, and
Giver of all things, accepts with great desire our things which are
least, that He may have a cause of returning those which are
greatest, and joys that are infinite. Those who follow his
teaching by works of mercy, He comforts, saying, ' What ye have
done unto one of the least of mine, ye have done unto me.' Hence
it is, that when 1 had been instructed by the advice, and urged by
the prayers, of my beloved confessor Guthlac, the devout anchorite,
I cheerfully acquiesced," &c.
Kenulph, a monk of Evesham, was appointed the
first abbot. Bega, the sister of Guthlac, who had
long resided as a solitary some miles from her
brother, having brought to the monastery his
psalter, the scourge of St. Bartholomew, and some
other relics, went back to her own cell, where she
remained two years and three months ; after which
she went to Rome, where she spent the rest of her
life. Bettelmus, Tatwin, and two other ascetics,
who lived in cells by the hermitage of Guthlac,
for the sake of his neighbourhood and instruction,
were permitted by the abbot to remain in statu, quo.
As I am not writing history, and am bound by no
unities, let us skip over rather more than a century,
and we shall find this monastery, founded by the
piety of a Saxon king, become the sanctuary of
more than one of the royal race of Mercia.
Etheldritha, daughter of Offa, the betrothed of
Ethelbert, king of the East Angles (who was
treacherously murdered by her father), had retired
to a cell in the southern part of the church of

NO. XV.] CEOTLAND ABBET. 261
Croyland. Thus she was enabled, more than thirty
years after her sad betrothal, to offer a sanctuary
to a successor of her father, Wichtlaf, king of
Mercia, when he fled from Egbert, king of Wessex,
in the year 827. The Abbot Siward, who was the
only other person privy to his retreat, negotiated
for his safety and restoration as a tributary to
Egbert; and the grateful, though humbled monarch,
never forgot the benefit. Six years afterwards he
gave a charter, which begins thus : —
" Wichtlaf, by divine dispensation King of the Mercians, to all
the worshippers of Christ inhabiting all Mercia, everlasting
salvation. Far from feeling it any disgrace, I esteem it to be
honourable and glorious, to publish and set forth the wonderful
works of God. Wherefore, I will openly confess unto the Lord,
who dwelleth on high, but hath respect unto the lowly in heaven
and on earth, because for a time He was angry with me ; but his
anger is turned away, and He hath comforted me. In his anger,
humbling the sinner unto the ground, bringing him down even
unto the dust; and again, in his mercy, raising the needy from the
dust, and lifting up the poor from the dunghill, that I may sit
with princes, and possess the throne of glory. In the day of good
things, then, let me not be unmindful of the evil things. ' I will
make mention of Bahab and Babylon, to them that know me, ' not
Rahab the harlot, but the most holy virgin, my kinswoman,
Etheldritha, a recluse at Croyland for the love of her spouse, the
Lamb without spot; who, in the time of my trouble, most carefully
hid me in her cell, by the space of four months, from the face of
the enemy and the persecutor. I will make mention also of
Babylon ; not of the tower of confusion, but of the most holy
church of Croyland, which is a tower reaching to heaven, — with
watchings and prayers, psalms and lessons, disciplines and
penances, tears and sobs, alms, and innumerable other acts of
devotion and works of piety, offering most powerful violence to the
kingdom of heaven on behalf of a sinful world.1 Therefore, since
the venerable father, the Lord Siward, abbot of Croyland, hath
1 The reader will, I trust, understand that I give this introduc
tion, and some other things of the same sort, not for the taste with
which Scripture language is used, but as showing the fact that it
was so used, and leading to the inference that it was familiar, or,
at least, not unknown. Neither do I offer any voucher for the
genuineness of charters, in any case where it may be disputed. It
is obvious that a forgery, if made during the period of which I
write, would be of more value in my inquiry than a genuine docu
ment of earlier date could be.

262 CROTLAND ABBET [NO. XV.
protected me in his tabernacle in the evil day, hiding and saving
me. from the face of him that troubled me, beside the privileges of
my predecessors, kings of Mercia, who have amply enriched the
aforesaid monastery with various gifts and immunities, I also offer
to the great altar of the said monastery, out of my poverty, a
golden chalice^agolden cross, and a table out of my own chapel
covered with plates of gold, prof essing that I will constantly defend
the said church to the best of my power."
, Then, after other matter—
" I also offer to the sacrist of the said monastery, for the service
of the most holy altar, the scarlet robe with whfch I was invested
at my coronation, to make a hood or chasuble ; and for the orna
ment of the most holy church, my golden curtain on wifoi- is
wrought the taking of Troy, to be hung on the walls on my
anniversary, if they shall see fit. I also offer to the refectory of
the said monastery, for the use of the president every day in the
refectory, my gilded cup which is chased over all the outside, with
savage vine-dressers fighting with serpents, which I am wont to
call my crucibolus, because the sign of the cross is impressed
transversely on the inside of it, with four projecting corners having
a like impression ; and also the horn of my table, that the elders
of the monastery may drink out of it on the festivals of the saints,
and may sometimes, amidst their benedictions, remember the soul
of the donor, Wichtlaf."
Many other gifts are contained in this charter ;
and Wichtlaf, we are told, remained constant in his
affection to the monastery as long as he lived,
visiting it at least once a year, and always making
some rich and valuable present.
As to the destruction of this monastery by the
Danes in a.d. 870, I must not here run into all the
details of that horrible event ; but one or two facts
I wish to mention. News of the enemy's approach
was brought by some fugitives, who arrived at the
monastery while the monks were performing matins.
The abbot Theodore, who had succeeded Siward,
resolving to remain at his post with those whose
advanced or tender age rendered flight or resistance
equally impossible, and might perhaps excite com
passion, ordered the younger and stronger part of
the monks to escape, if possible, into the surround
ing marsh, taking with them the reliques, principal

NO. XV.] BURNT BT THE DANES. 263
jewels, and documents of the monastery. The
golden table given by Wichtlaf, the chalices, and all
that was metal, were sunk in the well ; but the
table was so large that, place it which way they
would, it could not be prevented from showing
above water ; and at length they drew it out again ;
the fires were seen nearer and nearer, and the
monks who were to fly with the other still more
valuable things, which were already in the boat,
pushed off, leaving the abbot to conceal the table as
well as he could. He, with the help of two of his
old companions, did it so effectually that I believe
it has never been found to this day. Certainly it
had not been two hundred years afterwards, at
which time there seems to have been a tradition
that it was buried somewhere outside the church on
the north side. After this, they dressed themselves,
and assembled in the choir to perform divine service,
which they had scarcely finished, when the Danes
broke in. The abbot was slain upon the altar. The
old men and children attempted in vain to fly.
They were caught, and tortured to make them tell
where treasure might be found, and then murdered.
All perished but little Turgar, a beautiful child, of
ten years old, who kept close to Lethwyn the sub-
prior, when he fled into the refectory, and seeing
him slain there, besought his persecutors that he
might die with him. The younger Count Sidrok
was touched — he pulled off the cowl of the little
monk, threw a Danish tunic over him, and bade him
keep by his side. Under his protection, the child,
who alone survived to tell the tragic story, went in
and out among the Danes all the while they were
at Croyland, went with them to Feterborough, and
while accompanying them on their way towards
Huntingdon — taking advantage of the moment when
Sidrok's followers, who brought up the rear, were
suddenly called to rescue two carriages laden with
spoil, which had sunk in fording a river — he escaped
into a wood, and, walking all night, got to Croyland

264 THE DANES [NO. XV.
early in the morning. There he found his brethren
who had fled, and who, having spent the interval in
a wood not far distant, had returned the day
before, and were engaged in attempting to extinguish
the fire which was still raging in many parts of
the monastery.
How they endeavoured to repair this desolation,
and how the exactions of Ceolwlph which followed
brought the monastery to such poverty that the
abbot was obliged to disband the greater part of
the monks, I need not here relate. All the chalices
but three, all the silver vessels except Wichtlaf's
crucibolus, all their jewels were coined or sold to
satisfy his rapacity ; and the few monks who
stayed by the abbot were in the deepest poverty.
When Athelstan succeeded his grandfather, Alfred
the Great, in a.d. 924, this little company of twenty-
eight had dwindled down to seven ; and when that
monarch was succeeded by his brother Edmund, in
a.d. 941, the number had decreased to five. Two
of these, Brunus and Aio, after losing about the
same time King Athelstan and the Abbot Goodric,
gave up all hope of the restoration, and even the
continued existence of the monastery, and migrated,
the former to Winchester, and the latter to Malmes-
bury. Clarenbald, Swartting, and Turgar (the child
of a.d. 870, and apparently the youngest of the
three) alone remained.
In a.d. 946, Edmund was succeeded by his brother
Edred. If I had been writing the history of the
Anglo-Saxons, I should have had much to say, in
the reigns of these sons of Edward, of the old
soldier Turketul, who had been chancellor to them
all three, and to their father before them, and who
was, moreover, their first cousin, being like them a
grandson of Alfred the Great. In the second year
of his reign, Edmund was threatened with invasion
from the north, and Turketul was sent to York.
Bassing through Croyland on his way, with a great
train — for he was not only the king's cousin, but

~K0. XV.] AT CEOTLAND ABBET. 265
himself lord of sixty manors — the chancellor was
intercepted by the three old monks, who begged
that, as night was approaching, he would be then-
guest. It is true that they had no suitable means
for entertaining such a person, with such a retinue ;
and had it not been that in those days travellers of
rank knew that they must, and therefore did, in a
great measure, provide for themselves, they could
never have enterprised such a matter. As it was,
how they got through it is past my comprehension.
But they did ; they took him to prayers in the little
oratory which had been got up in one corner of the
ruined church, showed him their reliques, told him
their story, and implored him to intercede with the
king for the rebuilding of their church. He was
quite taken with the old men — senum curialitatem
intimis visceribus amplexatus; he promised to be
their advocate with the king, and their benefactor
from his private means ; and, when he went forward
in the morning, he ordered his servants to leave
provisions sufficient for them until his return, with
an hundred shillings for their expenses.
The old monks had made a strong impression, and
during his whole journey the chancellor could talk
of nothing, even to strangers whom he met on the
way, or at inns, but the old monks of Croyland.
After settling his business at York, he revisited
them in his way back to London ; and having passed
the night there, and left them twenty pounds, he
went on to tell the king, first about the northern
business, and then about them. In short (I assure
the reader that I am not making a long story, but,
I fear, spoiling one for brevity's sake), having
obtained the king's orders to do what he saw fit in
the matter of restoring the monastery, he astonished
his royal master by declaring his intention to turn
monk. " The king hearing this, wondered beyond
measure, and endeavoured by all means to dissuade
him from his purpose, especially as he was now
..growing old, and having been bred up in ease, had

266 RESTORATION [NO. XV-
not been accustomed to the rigour of monastic life.
Beside this, as in the most important affairs of state
everything depended on his help and counsel, he
not unjustly feared that the kingdom would be
endangered." The chancellor answered, " My lord
the king, God who knows all things is my witness
that I have fought for my lords your brothers, and
for yourself, with all my might; now, for your
soul's sake, let your clemency permit that I may at
least in my old age fight for my Lord God. As
to my counsel and every assistance that my poor
means can give, it shall be promptly given to all
your affairs as long as there is life in my body ; but
your highness must certainly understand that from
this time forth I will not handle the weapons of
war." The king was grieved, but unwilling to
force or to over-persuade his faithful servant — yet
he did afterwards make one desperate effort to-
retain him; calling him one day into his private
chamber, he fell at his feet, and implored him not
to desert him in his distress. Turketul, however,.
though overcome by the unexpected proceeding of
his sovereign, fell down also and besought him to
spare him, nor could he be moved from his purpose.
They rose, the king consented, and fixed a day for
accompanying him to Croyland, in order to its
execution. In the meantime, the chancellor sent a crier round
London to say, that if he was indebted to anyone
he would be ready at a certain time and place to-
pay him, or if he had wronged any man, to restore
him threefold. He then gave his sixty manors to
the king, reserving only one in ten for the monastery.
He also ran down with all possible expedition to
pay a hasty visit to his old friends, who were over
joyed to see him — " summa celeritate de Londiniis
Croylandium advolans prsefatos tres senes in dicta
insula latitantes devotissime visitavit, et supra quam,
dici potest, aut excogitari, revelato suo sancto pro
posito, in immensum Isetificavit." He put them in

NO. XV.] OF CROTLAND ABBET. 267
a carriage, and rode them about into every corner
of the island, exploring by the help of their memo
ries, and the charter of foundation, the boundary of
the possessions of the monastery, which he marked
out by stone crosses. The lands had, of course,
got into other hands; but it seems as if in most
cases he had little trouble in redeeming them.
People were not unwilling to sell him (perhaps even
at a moderate price) what they knew did not belong
to them ; and, in fact, he appears to have failed in
only two cases. Duke Osbricht had got hold of
the lands of Kyrketon, Kymerby, and Croxton ; the
original charters had perished ; the lands were not
specified in any royal confirmation ; and his offer
to repurchase at a fair price having been twice
refused, Turketul was obliged to give them up.
The other case was more difficult and delicate—
Beovred, king of Mercia, had given the manor of
Depyng to his chief baker, Langfer. It had de
scended to his two daughters, and they now
belonged to a class of ladies with whom it is not
always easy to deal. They would yield to neither
claim nor entreaty, and the chancellor seems to
have been too polite to attempt their ejectment by
any other means. He patiently hoped that they
would change their minds (so I am resolved to
understand his expectation of better times), but he
waited all his life in vain.2
The king went to Croyland on the eve of the
Assumption in the year 948. Turketul accom
panied or had preceded him. Messengers were
sent for the two absent monks, who joyfully re
turned, and were heartily welcomed, for they were
" viri literatissimi, et moribus multum honesti ae

2 " Qua? diu in ccelibatu permanentes, neque cum Turketulo
voluerunt componere, nee juri suo prece vel pretio renuntiare.
Expectabat itaque diutius venerabilis pater Turketulus tempora
meliora ; sed quamdiu vixit, vixerunt et illee in eadem pertinacia."'

268 RESTORATION [NO. XV.
religiosi."3 The chancellor laid aside his lay habit,
and received the pastoral staff from the king, and
the benediction from the bishop of the diocese, and
thus became Abbot of Croyland. The king took on
himself the expense of building, and set about it in
earnest. Leaving Egelric (a kinsman of Turketul)
to act as clerk of the works, he took the new abbot,
with two of his monks, Turgar and Aio, to London,
where, in a public council before the archbishops,
bishops, and nobles of the land, he confirmed to the
monastery all its possessions. Many learned men
followed Turketul, of whom ten became monks.
The others had no notion of doing so (rigorem reli
gionis abhorrentes), but only came because they did
not know how to do without him (quia prsesentia
ejus nullo modo carere poterant). These, being
numerous, he placed in a cell dedicated to St. Pega,
on the east side of the monastery. He gave them
the allowance of monks, built them a chapel, and
appointed for them the same religious services, by
day and night, as the monks performed. Many
became priests, and afterwards monks, and in the
meantime he employed them in school-keeping, and
made a point of going at least once every day to
inspect the progress of each individual child ; taking

3 It is worth while, as it regards the possibilities of locomotion
in those days, to observe that the king arrived at Croyland on
Monday, the 14th of August. Messengers were (mox), I know
not exactly how soon, dispatched to Malmesbury and Winchester,
and the two monks got to Croyland on Wednesday, the 23rd of
the same month. We may, in the present day, consider that as
ample time for such a journey ; but we must remember that the
messengers had not merely to go and return a distance of at least
120 or 150 miles, but that each had to bring with him a very
aged companion. We know that Turgar was at this time eighty-
eight years of age, and that these travellers were his seniors, for
they were among the " fortiores et adolescentiores " who fled from
the Danes, when he was left behind as a child. Yet we may
reasonably hope that neither of the old gentlemen was over-
fatigued, as we hear nothing of it, and find one of them setting out
for London on the Monday after.

NO. XV.] OF CEOTLAND ABBET. 269
with him a servant who carried figs or raisins, or
nuts, or walnuts, or more frequently apples and
pears, which he distributed as rewards.
But I am not writing the life of Turketul. He
was succeeded in a.d. 975 by his relation Egelric,
already mentioned. From being one of the clerici
Pegelandenses, he had become a monk, and during
the latter years of Turketul he had had the chief
management of affairs, for which he was peculiarly
qualified. One point which gained him credit was
the management with which he provided a large
stock of timber, of which a great part of the
monastery was afterwards built. Of it, during the
lifetime of Turketul, the nave of the church was
built, and the tower was framed with very long
beams ; and after he became abbot he erected many
very fine buildings— namely, the infirmary, of very
good size, the beams and boards of which were
put together with admirable art of carpentry. A
chapel, of like workmanship, with baths and other
requisites ; and because they would not have borne
a stone roof, they were covered with lead. Then he
made the hall of the guests, and two large and very
handsome chambers of the same workmanship. He
made also a new brewhouse and bakehouse, all of
very beautiful woodwork (omnia de lignorum
pulcherrimo tabulato), a great granary in the same
style, and a large stable, the upper chambers for
the servants of the abbey, and the under part for the
horses ; those of the abbot at one end, and those of
the guests at the other. These three buildings, the
stable, granary, and bakehouse, formed the west
side of the court of the monastery ; on the south
was the hall of the guests, and its chambers ; on the
east the sutrinum, or place of sewing, or clothes-
making, the hall of the converts, with the abbot's
chamber, chapel, hall, and kitchen ; and the north
side contained the great entrance, and the apartment
for receiving the poor. All, except the hall,
chamber, and chapel of the abbot, and the apartment

270 RESTORATION [NO. XV.
for the poor (which had been built of stone by
Turketul), were built of wood, and roofed with
stone. With Egelric's agricultural performances
we are not at present engaged, and I write under a
most wretched fear of being tedious ; but I must
say that they were such that the monastery was
enriched beyond measure by the produce of its
lands; population gathered round, and there was
soon a town in the marshy desert. It is more to
our purpose to observe that Abbot Egelric " caused
to be made two great bells, which he named
Bartholomew and Bettelmus, two of middle size,
which he called Turketul and Tatwyn, and two
lesser, Pega and Bega. His predecessor had before
caused to be made a very large bell, which he named
Guthlac, which was in tune with these bells, and
with them made admirable harmony ; nor was there
such another peal of bells in England." 4
His successor, though he bore the same name,
was a man of different disposition — vir magis libris
et Uteris sacris deditus, quam in temporalium
provisione doctus. It was well that he followed,
rather than preceded, his namesake ; for books and
sacred literature are most advantageously studied
under cover, and with places and means for physical
refection ; and so it is that God employs the various
talents and dispositions of men ; even so obviously

4 The reader is probably aware of the custom of naming bells,
and I believe that the previous history sufficiently explains who all
these persons were, except Bega, whom one would naturally suppose
to be St. Bees, but I do not feel quite certain that it was so well
known a personage, and the point is not worth discussing. The great
bell at Gloucester Cathedral has puzzled some antiquaries by its
legend, me fecit fieri mdnoutds nomine petri. Without dis
puting whether muncutus is an allowable poetical licence for
montacutius — or whether, if we strain it to monchatus, we have got
a word, and if we have, whether that word has any meaning — I bea
to say that (however different they may look in Boman type) the
tall, narrow, black-letter word which someone has carelessly copied
muncutus, is in fact conventus. The convent caused the bell to be
made " nomine Petri."

STO. XV.] OF CROTLAND ABBET. 271
that one would think the hand could never dream
¦of saying to the foot, " I have no need of thee." I
beg pardon for this reflection, when I am really
studying brevity, but it has been repeatedly forced
on my mind in reading the brief records of whole
strings of abbots, priors, &c. Egelric the Second
gave to the common library of the monastery
(communi bibliotheca? claustralium monachorum — I
do not know whether that phrase was used to
exclude the scholastic " clerici Begelandenses,"
already mentioned) forty great original volumes of
learned writers, and more than a hundred smaller
volumes of miscellaneous treatises and histories ;
and besides these he made for the choir six graduals,
four antiphonaries, and eight missals for the different
altars. I see that I must fairly skip over about a century,
and say at once that Ingulph, to whom I am
indebted for most of the foregoing particulars, was
Abbot of Croyland in a.d. 1091. What I have
hitherto said, though it seems to me to illustrate
many parts of our subject, is given with immediate
view to his account of what happened in his own
time. Speaking of his beloved patron, Archbishop
Lanfranc, who died in a.d. 1089, he says —
" Two years after his death, happened that which was my
heaviest misfortune, which had been foreshown by so many
prodigies — the total destruction of so great a monastery, so often
clearly foretold in very many visions, and other apparitions — that
most fierce conflagration which cruelly devoured so many and such
dwelling places of the servants of God. For our plumber, being
employed in the tower of the church about the repairs of the roof,
and not extinguishing his fire in the evening, but fatally and most
foolishly covering it with ashes, that he might the more readily
set to work in the morning, went down to supper ; and when, after
supper, all our servants had gone to bed, and were every one of
them fast asleep, a strong wind rising from the north speedily
brought on our great calamity. For, entering the tower through
the lattice-work, which was open on every side, it first blew away
the ashes, and then drove the live coals against the nearest wood
work, where, quickly finding dry materials which were ready to
catch, and thus gaming strength, the fire began to seize the more

272 SECOND BURNING [WO. XV..
substantial parts. The peasants, who saw for a long while a great
light in the belfry, supposed that the clerks of the church, or the
plumber were finishing some work ; but at length, perceiving the
flames burst forth, they came knocking at the gates of the monastery
with great clamour. It was just about the dead of the night, and
we were all resting in our beds, taking our first and deepest sleep.
At length, being awakened by the loud clamour of the people, and
hastening to the nearest window, I saw as clearly as if it had been
noon-day all the servants of the monastery running towards the
church, crying and hallooing. Having put on my slippers, and
waked my companions, I hastened down into the cloister, where
everything was as brilliant as if it had been lighted up with a
thousand tapers. I ran to the door of the church ; and, attempt
ing to enter, I was very nearly caught by the melted bell-metal
and boiling lead, which were pouring down. I stepped back,
however, in time ; and, looking in, and seeing that the flames had
everywhere got the upper hand, I took my course toward the
dormitory. The lead from the church dropping on the cloister,
and soon making its way through, I was severely burnt in the
shoulder, and might have been burnt to death, if I had not quickly
leaped into the open area of the cloister ; where, seeing that the
flames that issued from the tower of the church on every side had
seized the nave also, and were pointed towards the dormitory of
the monks, in which direction burning materials were continually
carried, I cried out to those who were still in deep sleep ; and, by
raising my voice to the utmost, I was scarcely able, after a long
while, to rouse them. They, recognizing my voice, and leaping
out of bed in great alarm when they heard that the cloister was on
fire, rushed through all the windows of the dormitory in their
slippers, and half-naked, and fell miserably. Many, alas ! were
wounded, many bruised and fractured, by the hard fall.
" The flames, however, continuing to increase, and continually
throwing flakes of fire from the church towards the refectory — first
the chapter house, then the dormitory, then the refectory itself,
and, at the same moment, the cloisters belonging to the infirmary,
and the whole of the infirmary, with all the adjoining buildings,
were swallowed up at one stroke. As all our brethren collected
about me in the court, when I saw most of them half-naked, I
tried to regain my own chamber that I might distribute the clothes
I had there to those who were most in need. But every avenue to
the hall was so exceedingly hot, and such a shower of melted lead
was falling on every side, that even the boldest of the young men
were obliged to keep their distance. Moreover, not yet knowing
that our infirmary had been seized by the flames on the other side,
I was going round by the north cemetery towards the east end of
the church, when I perceived that our infirmary was on fire, and
that the unconquerable flames were raging with the utmost violence
among the green trees — ash, oak, and willow — which were growing
around. Beturning, therefore, to the west side, I found my
chamber like a furnace, vomiting forth incessant flames from all

NO. XV.] OF CROYLAND ABBEY. 273
the windows; and, going forwards, I beheld, with tearful eyes,
that all the contiguous buildings towards the south (that is to say,
the halls of the converts and of the guests), and all the other
buildings that were covered with lead, were on fire. But the
tower of the church falling on the south transept, I was so terrified
by the crash, that I fell on the ground, half dead in a fainting fit.
I was picked up by my brethren, and carried into the porter's
lodge ; but I scarcely recovered the use of my faculties and my
customary strength before morning.
" Day breaking at length, and I having recovered from my fit,
the brethren weeping and languid, and some of them miserably
wounded, and burnt in many parts of their bodies, performed
divine service together with mournful voice, and lamentable
wailing, in the hall of Grimketul, our corrodiary. Having per
formed all the hours of divine service, as well for the day as for
the night, we went out to take a view of the state of things
throughout the whole monastery, the flames being still unsubdued
in many of the offices. It was then that I first perceived that
our granary and stable were burned ; the flames being not yet
quenched, though their posts had been burned even below the
level of the ground. About the third hour of the day, the fire
being in great measure got under, we went into the church, and,
extinguishing with water the fire which was already subsiding, we
perceived in the incinerated choir that all the service books, both
antiphonaries and graduals, had perished. On entering the vestry,
however, we found all our sacred vestments, the relics of the saints,
and some other valuables which were there reposited, untouched
by the fire, because the building was covered with a double stone
arch. Going up to our archives we found that, although they were
entirely covered by a stone arch,5 nevertheless, the fire rushing in

5 Here is an instance of that which I have already noticed — the
greater provision which was made for the security of the archives.
1 have said that when Mabillon was at Nonantula, he found only
two MSS. of all its former riches ; but he found " in archivo diplo-
mata perantiqua Ludovici Lotharii et aliorum." (It. I tal. 202.)
Of course they had a value far beyond that which an antiquary
could discover in them, which would account for peculiar care being
taken for their preservation, and for their being actually preserved
when books were lost. To this their superior portability would
often conduce. We have just seen that the documents of Croyland
were carried into safety when it is probable that books were de
stroyed. Buinart tells us that when he and Mabillon were at
Morbach, something similar had occurred. — " Magnam esse ibi
diplomatum copiam acccperamus, sed quod ob bellorum tumultus
alio asportata essent, ea videre non licuit " (It. Alsat. 468) ; but
he goes on to say — " Hanc jacturam codicum mss. Bibliothecse
abundantia resarcivit, quorum non pauci sub prima regum nostro-
T

274 SECOND BURNING [NO. XV.
through the wooden windows, all our deeds were stuck together,
and burnt up by the extreme heat, as if they had been in a glowing
furnace or oven; although the cases in which they were kept
appeared to be safe and sound. Our most beautiful chirographs,
written in the Eoman character, and adorned with golden crosses,
and most beautiful paintings, and precious materials, which were
reposited in that place, were all destroyed. The privileges also of
the kings of Mercia, the most ancient and best, in like manner
beautifully executed, with golden illuminations, but written in the
Saxon character, were all burned. All our documents of this kind,
greater and less, were about four hundred in number ; and, in one
moment of a most dismal night, they were destroyed and lost to
us by lamentable misfortune. A few years before, I had taken
from our archives a good many chirographs, written in the Saxon
character, because we had duplicates, and in some cases triplicates
of them ; and had given them to our Cantor, Master Fulmar, to
be kept in the cloister, to help the juniors to learn the Saxon
character, because that letter had for a long while been despised
and neglected by reason of the Normans, and was now known only
to a few of the more aged ; that so the younger ones, being in
structed to read this character, might be more competent to use
the documents of their monastery against their adversaries in their
old age. These chirographs, being kept in a certain old chest,
which was enclosed by the wall of the church, were the only ones
that were saved, and escaped the fire. These are now our chief
and principal documents, which were formerly secondary, and put
aside, having been long lightly esteemed and looked down upon,
because of their barbarous writing ; according to the saying of
Job — ' The things that my soul refused to touch are as my
sorrowful meat.'6
" All our library also perished, which contained more than three
hundred original volumes, beside smaller volumes, which were more
than four hundred. Then, too, we lost that most beautiful and
very costly table, wonderfully made with every kind of metal to
distinguish the stars and the signs — Saturn was of copper — Jupiter
of gold — Mars of iron — the Sun of brass — Mercury of amber —
Venus of tin — the Moon of silver. The colure circles, and all the
signs of the zodiac, according to their kinds, by the skilful work
manship having their proper images and colours, in various forms

rum stirpe litteris majusculis aut franco gallicis descripti sunt."
He specifies a psalter that was 800, and a copy of St. Paul's
Epistles 900 years old, and a New Testament of equal antiquity,
" et alii codices optima? notas in quibus sacrse scriptural libri," etc. ;
but these were to take the chance of war. Ap. Mab. Op. Post.
Tom. iii.
6 Ch. vi. ver. 7. Quse prius nolebat tangere anima mea, nunc
prse angustia cibi mei sunt.

NO. XV.] OF CROYLAND ABBEY. 275
and figures, engaged, beyond measure, not only the understanding,
but the eyes, of the spectators by the multiplicity of precious stones
and metals. There was not such another nadir known or talked of
in England. The King of France had formerly presented it to
Turketul ; and he, at his death, had given it to the common
library, as well for ornament as to teach the juniors. Now
it was consumed, and melted down to nothing, in the devouring
fire. " Our chapter-house was totally consumed ; our dormitory, and
all the beds of the monks which were in it, and the building which
adjoined, perished in one conflagration. In like manner our in
firmary, with the chapel, the baths, and all the adjoining offices,
were burned. Our refectory and all that it contained (except a
few stone cups, and the horn and crucibolus of Wichtlaf, king of
Mercia, which were kept in stone chests), with the adjoining
kitchens, and all the hall and chamber of the converts, with all
that was in them, were burnt together. Our cellar, and the very
¦casks full of beer, were destroyed. The halls also of the abbot,
and his chamber, and the whole court of the monastery, which had
been most beautifully surrounded with very elegant buildings
through the diligence of my predecessors, — (unhappy I, that my
stay there was prolonged to behold such a sight !) — perished in a
miserable conflagration, the flames raging on every side with the
fury of Greek fire. A few huts of our poor pensioners, and the
outhouses of our cattle, and the buildings containing the other
animals, being at a greater distance, and covered with stone, were
all that were preserved. For, beside the north transept of the
church, from whence the wind rushing forth most powerfully drove
the flames towards the south, all the buildings of the monastery,
especially those that were roofed with lead, whether built of wood
or stone, our chirographs and valuables, books and utensils, bells
and their turrets, clothes and provisions, in one moment of time,
while I, most unhappy, presided, were lost and consumed.
" Many signs a,nd many portents prognosticated these fires, and
nocturnal visions very often predicted them ; but all these things
I understood only after the event. Not only the words of our holy
Father Turketul, when he was at the point of death, earnestly
admonishing us to take care of our fire, but also those of our
blessed father Wulfran at Fontanelle, in a night vision, command
ing me carefully to preserve the fire of the house of the three
saints, — that is to say, Guthlac, Neot, and Waldev, — contained
most certain admonitions. But I understand and confess all these
things, unhappily, too late ; and I, who for my sins do worthily
deserve to pour forth such lamentations and useless tears, am only
indulging in vain complaints.
" But that we may go on, let us return to our sad history. Our
great misfortune being quickly made known through the whole
vicinity, many of our neighbours, having bowels of mercy for our
misery, most kindly looked with an eye of pity on our destitution.

276 SECOND BURNING [NO. XV.
For our lord and most holy father Remigius, bishop of Lincoln,
graciously granted to those who should do to us, or procure for us,
any good, forty days of indulgence ; and beside this, he gave us
forty marks of silver in money. By his advice and suggestion,
also, the venerable canons of the church of Lincoln, and the
citizens of that city, who were our neighbours, sent us a hundred
marks. Also Richard de Rulos, Lord of Brunne and Depyng, as
our faithful brother and loving friend in the time of tribulation,
then gave us ten quarters of wheat, ten quarters of barley, ten
quarters of peas, ten quarters of beans, and ten pounds of silver.
This was the contribution of Richard de Rulos towards the restora
tion of . our monastery. Also Haco of Multon gave us twelve
quarters of corn, and twenty fine flitches of bacon. This was the
contribution of the aforesaid Haco. Also Elsinus of Pyncebec
gave us a hundred shillings in silver, and ten flitches. Also
Ardnotus of Spalding gave us six quarters of corn, and two
carcases of beef, and twelve flitches of bacon. And beside these,
many other persons made us various gifts, whereby our distress
was much relieved, whose names may our Lord Jesus Christ write
in the book of life, and may He repay them with heavenly glory.
But among so many benefactors, Juliana, a poor woman of Weston,
of pious memory, must not be forgotten, for she gave us of her
property, even all her living, — namely, a great quantity of twisted
thread, to sew the garments of the brethren."
I pass over the arrangements which the abbot
proceeded to make for raising money on the lands
of the monastery, and the documents which he has
inserted respecting these transactions ; but I must
add the short paragraph which follows them : —
" Being therefore mercifully helped by the contributions of so
many of Christ's faithful people, as well our neighbours as persons
at a distance, we laboured, in the first place, night and day, to re
build the house of the Lord, lest their gifts should seem to have
been cast away on a barren soil. We put in a new nave to the
roof of the church, in place of the old one which had been burnt ; we
added also some other appendages, such as they were. Moreover,
for the old tower of the church, a humble belfry, in which we placed
two little bells which Fergus, the brass-worker of St. Botolph's,
had lately given us, until better times, when we propose, by the
help of the Lord, to renew everything in a better manner, and to
raise to the Lord of majesty a worthy temple on surer founda
tions." I trust that these details are not without interest
in themselves, and they certainly conduce to one

NO. XV.] OF CROYLAND ABBEY. 277
very principal object of these papers, which is, not
merely to call the reader's attention to the facts of
the dark ages, but to the writers who have recorded
them. I have perhaps said more than enough of
the ravages of fire and sword, and I hope to proceed
immediately to the consideration of another cause
to which we may ascribe the scarcity of manu
scripts.

278

No. XVI.
" Ne toga cordylis et psenula desit olivis,
Aut inopem metuat sordida blatta famem." — Mart.
Theee is an appearance, at least, of self-complacency
in an author's saying, " the reader remembers,"
which may provoke a smile, that is more or less
deserved, in proportion to the importance of the
matter referred to, and its distance as to time and
place. If it is a startling fact, or a necessary
argument, on the preceding page, it is well enough ;
but if it is some slight matter of passing remark,
five or ten volumes off, and which the reader cannot
be supposed to have seen for a twelvemonth, it
argues that the writer has a more accurate know
ledge of his own works than of human nature. My
readers would smile if I were to assume their recol
lection of what I said about a year and a half ago,
on a matter which they may think of very little
importance, but of which (it being myself) I may
be allowed to form a different estimate. I did,
however, in the very first number of these papers,
avow myself to be of rather a discursive turn ; and
fairly stated that I should be sure to digress, if such
a thing were rendered possible by marking out a
plan. I have no fear that anyone will dispute that
I so far spoke the truth. But I also said, that
although I had no plan, I had a purpose, which I
fully stated ; and that I have actually been following
this by something like a train of argument, may not
perhaps be equally obvious. Yet it is really true ;
and as I freely forgive the reader who may not
perceive it, so I trust that if I am honoured with
any reader so attentive as to have kept it in view,

NO. XVI.] SCARCITY OF MSS. 279
he will pardon me if I here very briefly advert to
the progress which I consider myself as having
made in it, and the course which I hope to pursue.
As to the knowledge of the Bible in the dark
ages, I stated in No. XII. an opinion that it was,
in fact, much greater and more general than some
modern writers would lead us to suppose. In order
to support this, I began with what I did not
consider as the most powerful argument, but yet
as having some weight for proof, and some interest
in itself, — namely, the incidental notices of existing
copies of the Scriptures, which are scattered up and
down in the histories of that period. In the two
following papers I gave many instances ; but though,
with regard to the notices of parts of the Scriptures,
they were so numerous that I restricted myself to
those which challenged particular attention by their
intrinsic value, or some other peculiar circumstance,
yet I was afraid that even with this limitation the
reader would feel the induction of cases tedious.
Beside this, I thought it possible that when I had
even unduly trespassed on his patience, he might
say, — " Well, but now I have counted up all the
Bibles, and Testaments, and Gospels, and Psalters
which you have mentioned, and I know that in my
little parish there are, at this moment, twice as
many ; and if they were as plentiful then as they
are now, surely we should have more proofs of it in
existence." I might reply by inquiring, how many
of those Bibles in your parish are an hundred, or an
hundred and fifty, or two hundred years old ? — or,
more strictly, by asking, how many of the Bibles
which were in the parish two hundred, or one
hundred, or fifty years ago, are there now to prove
that they ever existed ?
But the proper answer is, to call attention to the
various causes of destruction which have perpetually
been at work. I wish, if possible, to make the
reader partake of the surprise which I unfeignedly
feel, that so many manuscripts have survived such

280 CAUSES OF THE [^0. XVI.
fierce and unrelenting persecution. After this I
hope to proceed to more direct 'evidence that the
Scriptures were known and read in the dark ages
than even that which is afforded by the incidental
mention of them. In the meantime, in this digres
sion (not from our subject, but from that particular
argument) on the scarcity of manuscripts, I have
mentioned, in the first place, the ravages of war
and fire ; and I hope that I shall not be thought to
have wasted time in giving one or two cases some
what in detail. There are two reasons for it — first,
that a very principal object which I have in view is,
to bring to the reader's notice, not merely the facts,
but the writers, of the dark ages ; secondly, that it
is impossible, without some such consideration of
details, to understand and appreciate the few words
in which some of our literary travellers occasionally
speak. Without some little reflection, and, perhaps,
without having our minds particularly called to some
such cases, we should hardly form an idea of what
they mean to convey by the few words in which they
allude to a whole string of desolations. It was said
of a celebrated violinist that every stroke of his bow
was a mouthful; something like it might be said of
single sentences from the pen of Father Martene.
Por instance —
" Quoyque le bibliotheque ait ete pilliee en plusieurs
occasions, il y reste encore un grand nombre de
manuscrits, presque tous anciens et fort beau." 1
At the collegiate church of Bomans in Dauphiny
— " Elle a eu le malheur d'etre ruinee six fois : — 1.
Bar les Maures ; 2. Bar l'Archeveque Sebon; 3 et
4. Par le feu; 5. Par Guigne Dauphin dans le
douzieme siecle ; et 6. Par les Calvinistes." 2
The monastery of La Charite sur Loire, Martene
tells us, " was originally built half a league from
the place where it now stands, near the ancient

I. Voy. Lit. P. II. p. 214. 2 Ibid. p. 263.

NO. XVl.J SCAECITT OF MSS. 281
town of Seir, which no longer exists. Having been
destroyed by the Vandals, it was re-established by
King Pepin, who placed Benedictine monks there.
They did not continue long, because the place was
soon after destroyed by the barbarians. Geoffrey
of Nevers, Bishop of Auxerre, having rebuilt the
church in honour of the Holy Virgin, gave it to
Hugh, Abbot of Clugni, who made it a famous
monastery, and the first in consequence among
those affiliated to his own, and gave the government
of it to Girard, his prior, who is considered a saint
at Clugni. It is said that, under that illustrious
prior there were two hundred monks at La Charite,
who were afterwards reduced to a hundred priests
and twenty novices ; and successively to ninety,
eighty, and at length to sixty. This number re
mained until the time of Bobert de Lenoncour, the
first prior who held it in commendam, who reduced
them to thirty; and these, after the conflagration
of the monastery, which speedily followed, were, if I
remember right, still further reduced to seventeen."
Can we wonder that, when Martene goes on to tell
us that, through modern restoration, " Le monastere
de la Charite se ressent encore aujourd'hui de son
ancienne splendeur," 3 he should, nevertheless, say
nothing of the library, and mention only one manu
script ?
At Sens, too, " L'abbaye de Saint Pierre le Vif
ayant ete detruite neuf ou dix fois, tant par les bar
bares et les ennemis de l'etat que par diverses
incendies, on est surpris qu'elle subsiste encore
aujourd'hui." * This is very true ; but one is not
surprised to hear nothing whatever of manuscripts
there. Other instances will, however, come under notice
incidentally ; and having said, perhaps more than
enough of fire and sword, let me mention another
3 I. Voy. Lit. p. 37. * Ibid. p. 61.

282 DESTRUCTION OF MSS. [NO. XVI.
cause, perhaps as mighty, and more constant, which
has led to the destruction of manuscripts.
III. A most effective cause may be found in the
negligence of those who have had the care of them.
As this infidelity to the trust reposed in him by the
Author of every good gift is a sin of which man has
been guilty in all times and places, we may very well
suppose that a good many manuscripts perished in
this way during the dark ages, as they certainly
have done since. Yet I think I shall not be con
sidered unfair if I suggest the probability that this
cause was less operative then than it was when
books became less scarce and valuable. I do not
want to take advantage of those exaggerations as
to cost and rarity which I have been endeavouring
to expose ; nor even of the equally fallacious state
ments which have been made respecting the care
taken, and the precautions used, about single
volumes, as if they were the only books on earth.
Warton, in that " Second Dissertation," to which I
have had occasion more than once to refer, tells us
of a bishop who, "in the year 1299, borrows of his
cathedral convent of St. Swithen, at Winchester,
Bibliam bene glossatam, — that is, the Bible with
marginal annotations, — in two large folio volumes,
but gives a bond for due return of the loan, drawn
up with great solemnity." 5 All this is, I dare say,
very true ; and, in the present day, it may sound
rather strange ; but does he not tell us that the
Bible was a bequest from the bishop's predecessor
to the convent ? Ought they to have treated it
just as if it had been a novel in a circulating
library ? — and could the prelate who borrowed it
be offended by the care which they took of it ? But
when Warton goes on to say, — " When a single
book was bequeathed to a friend or relation, it was
seldom without many restrictions and stipulations,"

5 Page cix. 8vo. edit. See more of Warton in Note B.

NO. XVI.] BT NEGLIGENCE. 283
— it is obviously more than he can prove, and more
than most people will believe. It is a singular
circumstance that we find another Bible just at the
same time bequeathed by the Bishop of Cambray
to the Carthusians of Macour, near Valenciennes ;
the bishop had died in the year 1296, on his way to
the Holy Land, and the monks, who received the
twelve volumes by the hands of the Count of
Hainault, entered into an engagement with him not
to lend it without good security ; and, in case of
their quitting that part of the country, to return it
to him.6
Such cases it is worth while to notice, for the
legitimate purpose of showing that books existed,
were valued, and taken care of; and I mention
them the more readily because they relate to Bibles.
I hope to have occasion to refer to them hereafter,
when we shall, perhaps, be led to think that special
care was taken of such books. In the meantime, I
am only contending that, generally speaking, books
were taken care of; and if these instances are more
recent than the period with which we are engaged,
let us get back into it by noticing the case of a
Gratian, presented to the monastery of Clairvaux,
by Alanus, Bishop of Auxerre (the disciple of St.
Bernard), on condition that it should on no account
whatsoever (nulla necessitate) be removed from the
monastery.7 Martene, who relates the circumstance,
and who would not lose the opportunity of saying a
word or two on the Benedictine side of the question
respecting monastic studies, observes that the monks
of Clairvaux, even in those days, were evidently no

6 "Promittimus bona fide, nos Bibliam in duodecim voluminibus,
quam de legato prasfati poutificis per manus potentissimi principis
domini Johannis de Avesnis, Comitis Hannonise, ac suas consortis
dominae Philippse Comitissse nobilissimas habemus, hujusmodi non
vendere, dare, vel impignorare, seu accommodare, nisi bonum
correspondens haberemus, qusecumque necessitas nos impellat," &c.
—Mart. i. 1314. 7 I. Voy. Lit. p. 103.

284 CAEE TAKEN OF MSS. [NO. XVI.
enemies to the study of canon law. But to this I
must add a suspicion, that books of canon law were
peculiarly apt to get out of their places, and not to
find their way back. A curious hint of this is
furnished by a statute of Mainerius, Abbot of St.
Victor's at Marseilles, in the year 1198. After
premising the excellence and benefit of peace and
unity, especially among those who are knit together
by the love of Christ, and the care which should be
taken to prevent or to stop division, he proceeds, —
" Whereas all the brethren of our monastery have
complained that certain of our predecessors took
and carried away at their pleasure, from the library
of this church, which hath been furnished by the
provident and diligent care of the ancient fathers
and abbots, and adorned with books of divers arts,
the books of law, which, like the other books, belong
to the library (having, perhaps, been bequeathed by
the devotion of individuals, or having come, in some
way or other, to the monastery), I, Mainerius, by
the grace of God, abbot of the said monastery of
Marseilles, having consulted with our elders, have
determined to pacificate and end those complaints
by perpetual peace and concord : " and he then goes
on to order, that whatever books shall be bequeathed,
or given, or in any way accrue to the monastery,
shall be considered as an inalienable and irremovable
part of the library; except only the breviaries, which
properly belong to the abbot, and the missals for
the service of the church.8
These cases, however, as well as those cited by
Warton, and many others which might be collected,
are rather specimens of individual character than
anything else. As to general rules, I have in a
former number given a letter from the prior of a
monastery to an intimate friend, who wanted to
borrow a book, and whose request led him to state

8 M. & D. i. 1020.

NO. XVI.] IN THE DARK AGES. 285
the inflexible rule of the monastery not to lend
books, without receiving some equivalent volumes
as a pledge ; and there can be little doubt that such
regulations were very general. " Our books," says
Ingulph, who has been sufficiently introduced to the
reader in the preceding number, " as well the
smaller unbound volumes, as the larger ones which
are bound, we altogether forbid, and under an
anathema prohibit, to be lent to any far-distant
schools, without the leave of the abbot, and his
distinct understanding as to the time when they
shall be returned. As to lending lesser books,
however, such as Psalters, copies of Donatus, Cato,
and the like poetical works, and the singing lesson-
books, to children and the relations of the monks,
we strictly forbid the cantor, or anyone who shall
act as librarian, under pain of disobedience, to allow
them to be lent for a longer space of time than one
day, without leave of the prior. Should anyone
hereafter presume so to do, let him remain in
disgrace and incapable of office in the monastery for
two years." 9 It was also perhaps natural that those
who had been at the trouble of writing a volume
should over-rate the value of their own labours, and
use such means as they could to prevent their work
from being lost, defaced, or even removed from the
scenes in which it had been for many years in the
process of elaboration, the only companion of the
silent and solitary artist — solitary, though, like
Bodulf, who was a monk of St. Wast, or Vedastus,
about a thousand years ago, he might fancy that
his well-pleased patron-saint was looking on, and
balancing the account of sins and letters. A copy
of Augustine on the Psalms, which he wrote, is still
extant, and contains a portrait of himself, and some
lines, part of which I cite, not for their poetical
beauty, nor their orthodoxy, but because they

9 Ing. ap. Gale, p. 104.

286 CARE TAKEN OF MSS. [NO. XVI.
express feelings which were, probably, not peculiar
to himself ; and which, so far as they extended,
would form a guarantee for some zeal in the multi
plication and preservation of books.
'• Cum librum scribo, Vedastus ab asthere summo,
Respicit e ccelis quot aretur pagina sulcis,
Quot folium punctis hinc hinc laceretur acutis,
Tuncque favens operi nostro, nostroque labori,
Grammata quot sulci, quot sunt quot denique puncti
Inquit, in hoc libro, tot crimina jam tibi dono.
Hancque potestatem dat Christus habere perennem.
Nee labor iste tibi, frater, jam proderit uni,
Sed queiscumque velis detur pars magna laboris.
Hsec merces operis, quam dat scriptoribus ipsis
Sanctus Vedastus, pater optimus, atque benignus,
Hac mercede librum perscripsi sedulus istum,
Quern si quis tollat, tellus huic ima dehiscat,
Vivus et infernum petat amplis ignibus atrum. Fiat, fiat."1
One would almost imagine that this monk, instead
of belonging to the Flemish monastery of St. Wast,
had been a disciple of Theodoric, Abbot of St.
Evroul in Normandy, two hundred years later, —
that is, in the middle of the eleventh century. Of
this abbot we are told —
" Ipse manu propria scribendo volumina plura
Ecclesise natis, dedit exemplum bonitatis ; " —
and therein he, no doubt, did well ; but when to
example he added exhortation, he seems to have
gone too far. I am not praising, or even palliating
his conduct, and I only notice it because it is evident
that " the love he bore to learning was in fault ; "
and it is a principal part of our business to trace
that spirit, even though it be manifested in error.
He used, we are told, to lecture his monks against
idleness, and "also he was wont to tell them this
story : —
" There was a monk in a certain monastery who was guilty of
many transgressions against its rules ; but he was a writer, and
1 II. Voy. Lit. 64.

NO. XVI.] IN THE DARK AGES. 28'/
being devoted to writing, he of his own accord wrote out an enor
mous volume of the divine law. After his death, his soul was
brought before the tribunal of the just Judge for judgment ; and
when the evil spirits sharply accused him, and brought forward his
innumerable crimes, the holy angels, on the other hand, showed the
book which that monk had written in the house of God, and
counted up the letters of that enormous volume as a set-off against
the like number of sins. At length the letters had a majority of
only one, against which, however, the daemons in vain attempted to
object any sin. The clemency of the Judge, therefore, spared the
monk, and commanded his soul to return to his body, and merci
fully granted him space for the reformation of his life. Frequently
think of this, most dear brethren ; cleanse your hearts from vain
and noxious desires ; constantly offer the sacrifice of the works of
your hands to the Lord God. Shun idleness, with all your power,
as a deadly poison ; for, as our holy father Benedict says, — ' Idle
ness is the enemy of the soul.' And frequently consider, also, what
is said by a certain approved doctor, in the Lives of the Fathers, —
that only one devil tempts a monk who is employed in any good
occupation, while a thousand devils attack him who is idle, and
drive him, when stung with innumerable darts of temptation, to
grow weary of his monastery, to desire the injurious pomps of the
world, and to make trial of noxious pleasures. And since you
cannot support the poor with large alms (for you have no earthly
riches) and cannot build large churches, as kings and other great
i secular persons do, you, who are shut up within the rules of the
cloister, and are deprived of all power, should, at least, as Solomon
exhorts, ' Keep your hearts with all diligence,' and continually use
every endeavour to please God. Pray, read, chant, write, and
employ yourselves in other things of the same kind, and with them
wisely arm yourselves against the temptations of evil spirits." 2

2 Ordericus Vitalis, quoted by Mab. A. S. ix. 137. I cannot
mention this old abbot without adding, from the same authority,
on the page preceding that just quoted, a few more words respect
ing his writing himself, and being the cause of writing in others.
 " Ipse scriptor erat egregius, et inclita sibi insitas artis moni-
menta reliquit Uticanis juvenibus. Collectaneum enim et Gradale,
ac Antiphonarium propria manu in ipso ccenobio conscripsit. A
sociis etiam suis, qui secum de Gemetico venerant, pretiosos divina}
legis codices dulcibus monitis exegit. Nam Rodulfus nepos ejus
Eptaticum [ Heptateuchum] conscripsit, et Missale ubi Missa in
conventu quotidie canitur. Hugo autem socius ejus expositionem
(Gregorii Magni) super Ezechielem et Decalogum, primamque
partem Moralium ; Rogerius vero presbyter Paralipomenon,
librosque Salomonis, tertiamque partem Moralium. Prasfatus
itaque Pater per supradictos, et per alios, quos ad hoc opus flectere
poterat, antiquarios, octo annis quibus Uticensibus praefuit, omnes

^88 CARE TAKEN OF MSS. [WO. XVI.
Those who wrote under the influence of such
feelings as an address like this was calculated to
produce, might very naturally add to their manu
script something like an anathema against any
person who should destroy or deface their labours.
Thus the writer of a manuscript in the library of St.
Gal—
" Auferat hunc librum nullus hinc omne per aevum
Cum Gallo partem quisquis habere cupit." 3
The same terrible imprecations were occasionally
annexed by the donors or the possessors of books.
As in a Sacramentary which Martene found at St.
Benoit-sur-Loire, and which he supposed to belong
to the ninth century. The donor (whose name
appears to have been erased) having sent the volume
as a present from beyond seas, fiercely anathematizes
all persons who should on any pretence remove it
from the monastery without the intention of return
ing it, devoting them to the like destruction with
Judas, Annas, and Caiaphas.* One may suppose
that books containing such awful imprecations were
the less likely to be stolen, and the more likely to be
returned if they did get astray. Indeed, it was
enough to frighten the possessor of a book, however

libros veteris et novi Testamenti, omnesque libros facundissimi
Papae Gregorii Uticensium bibliothecas procuravit. Ex ejus etiam
schola excellentes librarii ; id est Berengarius, qui postea ad
episcopatum Venusiae provectus est, Goscelinus et Bodulfus,
Bernardus, Turchetillus, et Richardus, aliique plures processerunt,
qui tractatibus Hieronymi et Augustini, Ambrosii et Isidori,
Eusebii et Orosii, aliorumque doctorum, bibliothecam sancti Ebrulfi
repleverunt, et exemplis suis ad simile studium secuturam juven-
tutem salubriter exhortati sunt."
3 Canis. Ant. Lect. torn. ii. P. iii. p. 230.
4 I. Voy. Lit. p. 67. " Ut si quis eum de monasterio aliquo
ingenio non redditurus abstraxerit, cum Juda proditore, Anna, et
Caiapha, portionem aeternae damnationis accipiat. Amen', amen.
Fiat, fiat."

NO. XVI.] IN THE DARK AGES. 289
honestly he might have come by it. There is a
curious instance of this in a manuscript of some of
the works of Augustine and Ambrose in the Bodleian
library: — "This book belongs to St. Mary of Bobert's
Bridge ; whosoever shall steal it, or sell it, or in any
way alienate it from this house, or mutilate it, let him
be anathema-maranatha. Amen." And underneath
there follows, in another hand — "I, John, Bishop of
Exeter, know not where the aforesaid house is, nor
did I steal this book, but acquired it in a lawful
way." 5
As to our present point, however, it will, I appre
hend, be readily conceded, that more care was taken
of manuscripts during the period with which we are
engaged than afterwards, — that is to say, more care
was taken during what is generally considered as
the darkest period than during that which followed;
and though the time when manuscripts came to be
under-valued and destroyed by wholesale was that
which followed on the invention of printing, yet that
time had been prepared for by a long period of
gradually increasing laxity of discipline and morals
in monastic institutions. There had, I apprehend,
long been less multiplication, less care, less use, of
books ; and many a fine collection had mouldered
away. There is a passage, which it may be worth
while to transcribe from one of John of Trittenheim's
(or Trithemius) exhortations, delivered to his monks

5 "Liber S. Marias de Ponte Roberti, qui eum abstulerit, aut
vendiderit, vel quolibet modo ab hac domo alienaverit, vel quamlibet
ejus partem abscideret, sit anathema maranatha. Amen. Aliena
manu. Ego, Joannes, Exon Epus, nescio ubi est domus predicta,
nee hunc librum abstuli, sed modo legitimo adquisivi." Wanley
(Cat. Lib. Sept. p. 152) adds, *' Hie fuit Joannes Grandisonus,
Exoniensis Episcopus, qui floruit circa a.d. 1327." Robert's
Bridge was a Cistercian monastery, founded by Robertus de Sancto
Martino in 1176, a few miles north of Battle, in Sussex (1 Dug.
916), and consisting at its surrender an. 29 Hen. VIII. of an
abbot and eight monks. Burnet, Rec. to Book iii. No. i. vol. i.
p. 135. W

290 DESTRUCTION OF MSS. [NO. XVI.
when he was abbot of Spanheim, in the year
1486 :—
" Do you not know," he says, " that our holy lawgiver Benedict
says, in the rule,—' If anyone shall do the business of the convent
in a slovenly or negligent manner, let him be punished ; and if he
does not amend, let him be subjected to regular discipline ? ' And
in his chapter on the cellarer of the monastery, he says,— 'Let him
look on the vessels of the monastery, and all its property, as if they
were the consecrated vessels of the altar.' In short, I cannot, and,
undoubtedly, I should not, refrain from saying in how slovenly and
negligent a way most of you do everything ; as if they either were
not observed by God, or as if their sloth did no injury to the affairs
of the monastery. Know, my brethren, what I give you notice of
beforehand, that for all these things, as well as for your other sins,
you must give an account to the Lord God. For this reason I
have diminished your labours out of the monastery, lest by working
badly you should only add to your sins ; and have enjoined on you
the manual labour of writing and binding books. These, and
similar occupations, you may carry on with tranquillity of mind and
body, within the inclosure of the monastery. I wish that you may
diligently perform even these works of your hands for the love of
God, lest you eat the bread of idleness. There is, in my opinion,
no manual labour more becoming a monk than the writing of
ecclesiastical books, and preparing what is needful for others who
write them ; for this holy labour will generally admit of being
interrupted by prayer, and of watching for the food of the soul no
less than of the body. Need, also, urges us to labour diligently in
writing books, if we desire to have at hand the means of usefully
employing ourselves in spiritual studies. For you see, that all the
library of this monastery, which formerly was fine and large, has
been so dissipated, sold, and made away with, by the disorderly
monks before us, that when I came I found but fourteen volumes.
It is true that the industry of the printing art, lately, in our own
day, discovered at Mentz, produces many volumes every day ; but
it is impossible for us, depressed as we are by poverty, to buy them
all."— f. xvi.
I fear that this was no solitary instance, and that
of many places it might be said, as Martene says of
the cathedral at Auxerre, that, besides other causes,
" La negligence des anciens moines ont dissipe un
si grand nombre de manuscrits qu'il n'en reste
aujourd'hui que fort peu," 6 — though I apprehend

Voy. Lit. 56.

NO. XVI.] BT NEGLIGENCE. 291
that those whom he here called ancient, should, in
our inquiry, be termed modern, monks. But passing
over all the revival period, and all the shocking
stories of the state in which the manuscripts were
found,7 what did Martene himself find in the
eighteenth century? Several hints in his literary
travels show us, that many of the manuscripts which
he found were in the hands of persons by no means
sensible of their value. At the archives of the
cathedral of Narbonne he and his companions found
" un fort beau manuscrit .... dont on ne faisoit
pas grand cas : mais 1' estime que nous en fismes,
reveilla le soin des chanoines pour le conserver."8
At Albi, " beaucoup d'anciens manuscrits que nous
trouvames la plupart en tres mauvais etat. L'estime
que nous en times fit ouvrir les yeux aux chanoines,
qui les meprisoient; et ils nous promirent d'en avoir
plus de soin a l'avenir. La plupart sont de 900,
800, ou 700 ans." 9 At the Abbey of St. Martial at
Limoges, " on y conserve encore pres de deux cens
manuscrits, la plupart des saints peres, sur-tout de
S. Ambroise, S. Jer6me, S. Augustine, S. Gregoire,
monumens du travail des saints moines Benedictins
qui ont autrefois sanctifie cette abbaye, et edifie
le pais, mais aujourd'hui fort negligee par les
chanoines." l I beg the reader to understand that
I am responsible for the italics, which Martene did
not think of putting ; but I do it as the shortest
way of conveying a hint which I do not feel it fair

7 Only, as we have noticed Montfaucon's journey into Italy,
in the year 1698, I must just give his description of the state
in which he found the celebrated (said to be autograph) manu
script of St. Mark's gospel ; which, without admitting all its
claims, he declares to have as great appearance of antiquity as
he recollected to have seen in any manuscript: — "Folia agglu-
tinata simul sunt et putrida, ut non facile possint diduci sine
fractione ; nam locus perquam humidus, et brevi periturus funditus
est codex si istic maneat." — Diar. It. p. 55.
8 I. Voy. Lit. P. ii. p. 62. 9 Ibid. p. 67. 1 Ibid. p. 69.

292 DESTRUCTION OF MSS. [NO. XVI.
to suppress. All these stories are of canons, and the
author is a monk ,¦ and from that fact I would draw
two inferences, — first, that there might be some
little prejudice, if not malice (shall I say colouring?
— hardly, I hope, in stories told at the time, to say
nothing about character), in the relation of these
facts, and that therefore we must not overstrain the
statements; secondly, that, although we do not find
them recorded, there may, perhaps, have been a
similar set of stories respecting monks, if we really
knew all, and so our present argument would be
strengthened. Be this as it may, however, I make
the former of these remarks not so much with
reference to the cases already mentioned, as to a
case which I must give in Martene's own words. I
do not know that we can suspect it of being much
coloured, but, making every deduction, it is quite
awful. The holy chapel at Bourges was originally
founded by John, duke of that city, in the year
1405, for thirteen canons, thirteen chaplains, thirteen
vicars, and six clerks of the choir, and enjoyed a
quasi-episcopal jurisdiction. " Next to the cathe
dral," says Martene, " the holy chapel holds the
first rank in the city of Bourges;" and, after telling
us that " Le tresor est tres riche," and recounting
matters of gold and silver, pearls and precious
stones, vases of agate and rock crystal, he goes on
to say —
" There was once a rich library at the holy chapel ; and in order
that the books might not be dispersed, the holy pontiffs had
excommunicated all who should remove them. On this account
the cardinal Amboise, legate of the holy see, when he wanted St.
Hilary's commentaries on the Psalms, employed all his authority
to obtain them, and was moreover obliged to give the canons
absolution from those censures which they would have incurred by
lending them. This we learn from the following letter of the
cardinal, which I copy from the original."
In this letter, which Martene gives at length, the
cardinal, after referring to his wish to borrow the

NO. XVI.] BT NEGLIGENCE. 293
book, and the difficulty which lay in the way,
says —
" We therefore absolve you from all censures and pains to which
you may be exposed by the removal of this book ; and by the
authority with which we are invested and empowered, we declare
you to be absolved ; the said bull, or anything else to the contrary,
notwithstanding. Given at Bourges, the 3rd of March, 1507."
What Martene professes to have found, however,
at the holy chapel, after the march of intellect had
gone on just two hundred and one years from that
time, I must really give in his own words : —
" Ces bulles n'ont point empeche ces manuscrits d'etre dispersez
dans la suite. II en reste pourtant encore environ cinquante ou
soixante, que j'eus la curiosite de voir. Monsieur le procureur du
chapitre me fit ouvrir le lieu oil ils etoient conservez. Je les trou-
vai dans un etat pitoyable, parce que le receveur du chapitre, a qui
on avoit confie la clef de ce lieu, en avoit fait un poullalier ; et que
comme ils etoient ouverts sur des pupitres, les poules les avoient
couverts d'ordures. Lorsque je commencois a les manier, Monsieur
Tabbe Desosiers, a qui il appartient d'en avoir soin, me vint trouver ;
il ne fut pas moins chagrin que moy de les trouver en cet etat, et
fit a l'heure meme netoyer la lieu et les livres, et me promet de faire
relier ceux qui en auroient besoin. L'un des plus curieux manu
scrits de la sainte chapelle, est celui qu'on appelle les heures du
Due Jean. C'est un pseautier latin avec une version angloise de
six ou sept cens ans. Ceux qui me la montrerent, croyoient que
e'etoit d'allemand ou de I'hebreu. Mais si-tot que je l'eus vu, je
connus le caractere Anglo-Saxon." — Voy. Lit. p. 28.
Oh, the ignorance, the carelessness, the barbarian
stupidity of the monks in the dark ages ! — how hate
ful does it look beside this reverent and enlightened
watchfulness of the eighteenth century !

294

No. XVII.
" We have set Dunce in Boccardo, and have utterly banished
him Oxford for ever,  and the second time we came to New
College, after we had declared their injunctions, we found all the
great quadrant-court full of the leaves of Dunce, the winds blowing
them into every corner, and there we found one Mr. Greenfeld, of
Buckinghamshire, gathering part of the said book-leaves (as he
said) therewith to make him scuels, or blaunsheers, to keep the
deer within the wood, thereby to have the better cry with his
hounds." — Commis. Layton to Sec. Cromwel, Sept., 1535.
" Colleges, originally of popish institution, like all contrivances
of that masterpiece of human policy, bear upon the great scheme of
mastering down the human mind to an acquiescence in the craft."
— Christian Examiner, July, 1836.
If the reader has fairly considered the probable
effects of war and fire, aided by the more slow and
silent, but incessant operation of Time, assisted by
damp and all the auxiliaries which he has employed
when the negligence of man has left manuscripts at
his mercy — if he has reflected that more than six
hundred years have elapsed since the close of that
period of which we are speaking, during all which
time the work of destruction has been going on — if
he has at all realized these facts, surely I might con
fidently appeal to him whether it is very far short
of a miracle, that any manuscripts of that or of an
earlier period should have survived to the present
time ? Whether it is not absurd to talk of scarcity
(at least to reason from it to former conditions)
while hundreds, nay thousands, of such manuscripts
repose in our libraries ? Yet I should be doing
great injustice to the subject if I did not mention
another cause, which has probably been as operative
as either of those already adverted to ; if, indeed, I
ought not rather to say, more efficient than all of
them put together. I speak, perhaps, with preju-

NO. XVII.] LOSS OF MSS. 295
dice ; for I certainly feel strongly on this point. Of
the desolations of war and fire, I have heard tell ;
and, should the reader "bid me discourse," I could,
I think, persuade him that I have been mercifully
brief on the subject ; but I have seen nothing of
them — not even the Cottonian Library ; and to the
reader, probably, as well as myself, these matters are
mere hearsay — " demissa per aurem." But other
proofs of destruction, from other sources, are con
stantly at hand, and I could set them before his
eyes. Of all the thousands of manuscripts burned
by war or by accident, by Danes or Hungarians, or
housemaids,1 the ashes are dispersed and no trace
remains. Those that were not found by Ambrose
of Camaldoli, a mouldering part of general desola
tion2 — those that were not rescued by Boggio when
he drew Quintilian to light from a dark and filthy
dungeon3 — those that were not saved by Father

1 " Bp. Earle's Latin translation of Hooker's books of Ecclesias
tical Polity," says Dr. Smith, in a letter to Hearne, " which was his
entertainment during part of his exile at Cologne, is utterly destroyed
by prodigious heedlessness and carelessness ; for it being written
in loose papers , only pinned together, and put into a trunk unlocked
after his death, and being looked upon as refuse and waste paper,
the servants lighted their fire with them, or else put them under
their bread and their pies, as often as they had occasion." — Letters
of Eminent Persons from the Bodleian. Vol. I. p. 140.
2 Mabillon says of his call at the monastery of Crypta-ferrata,
" Festi occasio in causa fuit, ut reliquias librorum videre non
potuerimus. Verum Ambrosius Camaldulensis qui ejusdem rei
causa olim eo se contulerat, nihil reperit prater ruinas ingentes
parietum et morum, librosque ferme putres atque conscissos." — It.
Ital. 87. I presume that the words in italics belong to Ambrose,
though Mabillon does not give any reference. He certainly says
much the same in one of his letters, " ea tamen quse vidimus ita
dissipata et concissa et putrida erant, ut miserabilem omnino facieni
praferrent  monasterium omne circuivimus, immo non jam
monasterium, sed ruinas lacrymabiles lacrymati sumus : sola ferme
ecclesia integra, quas et ipsa fimo plena videbatur. Servat tamen
plurima vestigia antiquee dignitatis. Verum ista coram melius
explicabimus."— M. $ D. III. 544.
3 " Ibi inter confertissimam librorum copiam, quos longum esset
recensere, Quintilianum reperimus, adhuc salvum et incolumem,

296 LOSS OF MSS. [no. XVII.
Mennitius when he gathered in a " festiva copia "
from his Calabrian dependencies, where they were
unheeded and perishing4 — those, in short, that have
not been redeemed by individual exertion to give
us some notion of what has been lost, have left no
memorial that they ever existed. Those which over-
anxiety hid too carefully, may be hidden still;5 and

plenum tamen situ, et pulvere refertum. Erant enim in bibliotheca
libri illi, non ut eorum dignitas postulabat, sed in teterrimo quodam
et obscuro carcere, fundo scilicet unius turris, quo ne vita quidem
damnati detrudcrentur." — Ap. It. I tal. 211.
4 " Is enim, quia in variis sibi subjectis Calabriaa monasteriis
codices istos, obsoleto pene Gracas lingua} usu, jacere intactos
neglectosque acceperat, imminenti jam [that is, in the latter part
of the seventeenth century], exitio subduxit inque Urbem advehi in
usnm eruditorum curavit." — Diar. Ital. 211. Montfaucon, in the
next paragraph, mentions a curious circumstance respecting the
destruction of manuscripts. The Archbishop of Bossano told him
that his see had formerly possessed a vast number of Greek docu
ments (ingentem diplomatum Grsecorum numerum), as had been
stated by Ughelli in his Italia Sacra ; but that one of his prede
cessors had fairly buried them, to be rid of the trouble occasioned
by persons coming to inspect them ; " pertassum adventantium fre-
quentias, rogantiumque ut diplomata proferrentur, suffodi omnia et
in perniciem ire curasse." Can one conceive how Father Mont
faucon looked on hearing this ? Perhaps (so far as the two men
could look alike) very much as Mabillon did, when, in hunting
over the library at Monte Casino for the life of St. Placidus, he
found the most ancient of the three lives — itself a MS. of the tenth
century — not as book, but as the binding of books — " Primas vitaa
folia ante annos septingentos descripta ad compingendos alios
codices detracta invenimus." — It. Ital. V25.—See Note C.
s The correspondent of the Baron de Crassier, whom I have
already had occasion to quote, and to whom I shall have to refer
again presently, says — " Pendant mon sejour a Wirtzbourg j'ai vu
M. Siegler, secretaire du conseil ecclesiastique .... II a encore
une collection des chartres les plus anciennes de l'abbaye de Fulde,
avec les sceaux des anciens empereurs et rois tres-bien dessinez :
mais ce qui va vous surprendre, est qu'ayant depuis peu, de la per
mission de Monsieur le Baron de Hutten, grand doyen de la cathe-
drale, foiiille sous les toits de cette eglise, il y a trouve un tresor
consistant en manuscrits, qui etoient entierement oublies, et que l'on
croit y avoir reste cachez depuis la guerre de Suede, si pas plus
long-tems. Ces manuscrits, dont je n'ai seu voir que quelques-
uns, sont des plus anciens et la plupart ecrits : cum Uteris semi-

NO. XVII.] BT IGNORANCE. 297
those that brutal stupidity buried, have perished.
What the rats have eaten we know not; what the
deep sea has swallowed we cannot tell, and seldom
think of. All those are gone without memorial, except
such scattered notices as may be gleaned from the
survivors. But there are thousands equally destroyed
— thousands of murdered wretches not so completely
annihilated ; their ghosts do walk the earth — they
glide, unseen, into our libraries, our studies, our
very hands — they are all about and around us — we
even take them up, and lay them down, without
knowing of their existence ; unless time and damp
(as if to punish, and to mock, us for robbing them
of their prey) have loosed their bonds, and sent
them to confront us. But to speak soberly : —
IV. To the causes already mentioned, we must
add ignorance, cupidity, dishonesty — they may all
go together, for in some cases it may be difficult to
say how much should be ascribed to one cause, how
much to another. Nor is it very material. When
we read, for instance, " II y avoit autrefois un assez
bon nombre de manuscrits au Val St. Lambert, mais
la plupart ont este vendus ou perdus," 6 it is of no
great consequence to settle how far either of these
causes- preponderated, or how far ignorance (if it

uncialibus sans interponctions. Entre autres un codex Justiniani
que je crois etre du tems de cet empereur." — II. Voy. Lit. 176. Is
it improbable that many such cases may have occurred ? Ingulph,
for instance, tells us that when his old enemy, Yvo Tailbois (hostis
semper noster implacabilis), tried first to take advantage of what
he supposed to be a total loss of documents by the fire at Croyland,
and then by a desperate effort to possess himself of those which he
found to be in existence, he thought it best to place them in secure
concealment — " Ego autem audita tanta hostis nostri malitia, tam
contra incendia quam contra talia machinamenta hostilia, assumtas
chartas nostras posui sub tam secura custodia, quod vita mea comite
nee ignis consumet nee adversarius surripiet, Domino nostro Jesu
Christo, ac beato Patrono nostro Sanctissimo Guthlaco propitian-
tibus et protegentibus servos suos, prout firmiter ego credo." — Ap.
Gale. I. 107.
6 II. Voy. Lit. 195.

298 LOSS OF MSS. BY [NO. XVII.
had anything to do with the business) was that
passive ignorance of whose effects I have already
spoken, or that more homely and honest ignorance
whose desolations we are now to trace. On reading
such a notice, one would, indeed, like to know, why
the manuscripts were sold, and for what purpose.
In the present day we should take it for granted
that they were only transplanted into some richer
collection ; but there is too much reason to fear
that they were sold merely as parchment. In fact,
the number of manuscripts for which bookbinders
have to answer is beyond all calculation, and this,
too, even in times long since the dark ages.
Mabillon found many manuscripts (though happily
they were not of peculiar value) in the hands of a
bookseller at Besancon, who had destined them to
the use of the binder ; and another in the hands of
a physician, who had rescued it from the same fate.7
A still more recent and wholesale example is
afforded by the author of a letter to the Baron
de Grassier, which I have already had occasion to
refer to. Writing from Nuremberg in the year
1717, and giving an account of M. Uffenbach, and
his collection of books and other valuables, he says,
" Barmi les manuscrits il y en a qui lui viennent du
pillage de 1'abbaye de S. Gal, qu'il a achete" au poids
seulement, ayant fait expres un voyage a Ausbourg,

7 It. Germ. 2. He adds this reflection — " Haec fortuna fuisset
veterum librorum omnium, nisi Deus aliam mentem in quorumdam
studiosorum mentes hoc a?vo inspirasset." It is impossible to say
how many authors as well as copies may have been lost to posterity
through their ravages. Agobard had a very narrow escape.
Baluze says, in the preface to his edition, "Magnam porro
gratiam debemus omnes Massono, ob servatum Agobardum. Nam
cum is, ut ipse scribit in epistola ad ecclesiam Lugdunensem, Lug-
duni in vico Mercium libros quaereret, et apud compactorem
librorum versaretur ejus rei causa, compactorque ille Agobardi
codicem in membranis perscriptum veteribus notis dilaniare
paratus esset, cultrumque ad earn carnificinam manu teneret, vitam
illi redemit Massonus ; numerato videlicet pretio libri."

NO. XVII.] IGNORANCE AND DISHONESTY. 299
ou il avoit appris, mais trop tard, qu'on y avoit
amene des chariots pleins, qui furent d'abord vendus
chez des bateurs d'or et des relieurs de livres, et
periront ainsi miserablement." 8 Of the gold-beaters
I know nothing, but all trades have probably had a
share of the plunder,9 and theirs has, I doubt not,
been very considerable ; but as to the bookbinders,
I repeat that they have to answer for an innumer
able quantity of manuscripts. Those who are at all
in the habit of looking at such things know how
commonly early-printed books, whose binding has
undergone the analytical operation of damp, or
mere old age, disclose the under end-pieces of
beautiful and ancient manuscript. They know how
freely parchment was used for backs and bands, and
fly-leaves, and even for covers. The thing is so
common that those who are accustomed to see old
books have ceased to notice it ; and to give to others
any idea of its frequency, or of the immense con
sumption of manuscripts occasioned by it, is utterly
impossible ; especially, considering that the books
so bound were principally those published daring
the first century of printing, and that the volumes
themselves are now become comparatively scarce.
How the bookbinders of that age came by them is
another, and a sad question ; but that their part of
the tragedy was performed in honest ignorance may
be believed.
And what must we say of dishonesty — of another

8 II. Voy. Lit. 175.
9 " Whole libraries were destroyed, or made waste paper of, or
consumed for the vilest uses. The splendid and magnificent
Abbey of Malmesbury, which possessed some of the finest manu
scripts in the kingdom, was ransacked, and its treasures either sold
or burnt to serve the commonest purposes of life. An antiquary
who travelled through that town, many years after the dissolution,
relates, that he saw broken windows patched up with remnants of
the most valuable MSS. on vellum, and that the bakers had not
even then consumed the stores they had accumulated, in heating
their ovens."— Lett, of Em. Per. from the Bod. I. 278.

300 LOSS OF MSS. [no. XVII.
kind of dishonesty from that which has been
noticed, and which was only that of monks who
sold what they had no right to sell, to purchasers
who knew that they had no right to buy ? It was
bad enough, quite bad enough ; but there is another
species of dishonesty belonging to the question, to
which it is still more disgusting to refer, though it
must not be overlooked. Think of Sir John Cotton
writing to Dr. Smith, " I have written to John
Vigures that Betty Hart should let you into the
library when you please. As for anything of a
bond, I desire none. I know you, and confide in
your worth and honesty."1 And again, " As for
my library, it is wholly at your use and service.
The same liberty which my father gave to the
learned Mr. Selden, I give to you. But Mr.
Selden was too free in lending out books, which,
after his death, were never restored."2 A sad
thing it is that such prudence should be necessary,
and that such suspicion should have grounds among
men of letters ; but it has ever been so. " II est
surprenant," says Martene, " que dans une biblio
theque aussi complete que celle d'Anchin, on trouve
si peu de manuscrits des conciles, et si peu des
historiens. Ilya apparence que les manuscrits de
ces matieres ont ete enlevez par des curieux, qui s'en
seront rendus maitres par la facilite de quelques
abbez." 3
The Jesuits had rather a bad name in this matter ;
and the same writer relates an anecdote which
(though in this case the Jesuit was a " fort honnete
homme") may not be out of place here. He was
employed at the Cistercian Abbey of Cambron to
teach the young monks philosophy, because the
strictness of the abbot's discipline did not permit
such exemption from monastic service as would

1 Letters by Em. Per. from the Bod. Vol. i. p. 18.
2 Ibid. 23. 3 II. Voy. Lit. 82.

NO. XVII.] BY DISHONESTY. 301
have allowed any of the elder monks to undertake
that duty. "We dined with this Jesuit," says
Martene, " who appeared to us to be a good sort
of man. He was in the library when we were
introduced ; aud, taking up a manuscript, he read
these words — ' Liber B. Mariae de Camberone, siquis
eum abstulerit anathema sit.' On this, the monk
who accompanied us said, with a smile, ' If all who
have carried off our manuscripts are excommunicate,
there must be a good many Jesuits in that predica
ment.' ' Vous nous les avez donnez,' replied the
Jesuit ; and this," says Martene, " might very well
be true; for I am persuaded that many thefts of
manuscripts are charged on these reverend fathers
of which they are quite innocent; and I have found,
in certain monasteries, manuscripts which have been
returned, and also the letters announcing their
return, though they still kept the recepisse of those
who had borrowed them. Those who found these
recepisses did not fail to say, without further
examination, that the fathers had kept their manu
scripts." 4
Whether the Jesuits were more or less guilty of
stealing books, it is certainly a very bad thing, even
when done from conscientious motives, as it seems
to have been by Jacob the Jew, whose memoirs
Mabillon met with in the Medicean library at
Florence ; and who therein confessed that before
his conversion he had stolen the books of Christians,
carrying off those which related to either the Old
or the New Testament, but committing the works
of the fathers to the flames — thus, in his kind and
degree (and perhaps as only one out of many of his
nation so employed), helping forward the work of
destruction.5 But bad as stealing is, there is really
something which seems to me to be still worse ; or
which we ought perhaps to call the worst form of

* II. Voy. Lit. p. 107. s It. Ital. 168.

302 MUTILATION [NO. XVII.
stealing, only we do not generally consider it as
such, because the mischief eclipses the sin. I mean
the mutilation of manuscripts. At Long Font, says
Martene, " nous nous arretames un jour pour voir
les manuscrits, qui sont en grand nombre et fort
beaux, mais dont plusieurs ont ete tronquez par des
gens trop hardis, a qui on a permis de les voir trop
facilement sans connoitre leur caractere." 6 I do not
say that this mutilation, too, may not be very
conscientious when united with ignorance and blind
zeal, as in the case of the Oxford Commissioners,
who have furnished my motto ; 7 but what is one to

6 I. Voy. Lit. P. ii. p. 152.
7 Or by their successors a few years after, who, with as great
hatred of poor Dun Scotus, " and all his blind glosses," carried
their reform to still greater lengths. " What mad work this Dr.
Coxe did in Oxon, while he sat chancellor, by being the chief man
that worked a reformation there, I have elsewhere told you," says
Anthony Wood (Ath. Ed. Bliss. I. 466), referring to p. 269 of his
history, where he gives an account of the visitation of the commis
sioners which took place in 1549. In his account of the following
year, he writes to the following effect : — " To return at length to
the royal delegates, some of whom even yet remained in Oxford,
doing such things as did not at all become those who professed to
be learned and Christian men. For the principal ornaments, and
at the same time supports, of the University, that is, the libraries
filled with innumerable works both native and foreign, they per
mitted or directed to be despoiled. Hence, a great multitude of
MSS. having no mark of superstition about them (unless it were
to be found in the red letters on their titles) were adjudged to the
flames, or the vilest purposes. Works of scholastic theology were
sold off among those exercising the lowest description of arts ; and
those which contained circles or diagrams, it was thought good to
mutilate or to burn, as containing certain proofs of the magical
nature of their contents. As to the public library, I shall speak
of it elsewhere ; though those which belonged to single colleges
scarcely suffered less. For I find that an immense quantity,
almost a waggon-load, of MSS. was carried off from Merton
College," &c. I wish that I could venture to quote the whole
passage — but it is ' perhaps more to the purpose to give part of
what the learned editor of the Athenae has added to Wood's account
in the volume above cited. — " Of the various beautiful MSS. in
Duke Humphrey's library, one specimen only has escaped the
ravages of these monsters : this is a superb folio of Valerius

NO. XVII.J AND THEFT OF MSS. 303
say when learned men do such things from mere
cupidity or idleness ? Only the other day I took
up a popular county history, where I met with a
note in these words, relating to a work mentioned
in the text: — "It is a quarto MS., in the Ashmolean
Museum, fit for press. Dr.  borrowed it while
compiling his  and cut out five leaves,
which have since been recovered." Well might Cave
say, " I hear many persons, indeed, frequently saying
that it is hard to obtain admission into libraries —
that the golden fleece (which some critics most
firmly believe to have been old parchments) was
literally guarded by dragons, and that we are doing
just the same thing in these days. The wickedness
of men has led to all this caution, and the necessity
which requires it forms its excuse. Who does not
burn with unbounded indignation when he sees that
the best books, while their names still stand in the
catalogues, are gone from the shelves ? Who but
must groan when he sees others mutilated, oblite
rated, erased, and spoiled by every kind of
barbarism ? " 8 Sad stories might be told on this
subject, but where would be the use of telling them ?
It may be hoped that to most they would seem
incredible. Some readers may not, perhaps, be aware that, at
no very remote period, it was customary to take the
precaution of chaining the books to the shelves. A
notice on this subject, which I found in a Chapter
library, I thought worth transcribing. It was

Maximus, written in the Duke's age, and, probably, purposely for
him. The mischief committed at this time can scarcely be con
ceived. 1 have seen several fine old chronicles and volumes of
miscellaneous literature mutilated because the illuminations were
supposed by the reforming visitors to represent popes and saints,
when they were really intended for the portraits of kings and
warriors ; nay, some were absolutely mathematical figures ! The
malice of these barbarians was only equalled by their ignorance."
—p. 468.
8 Script. XV. prsef. a. 2.

304 CHAINING BOOKS. [NO. XVII.
written in a copy of Lock on the Epistles (S. 100) ;
I suppose because that was then one of the newest
and most popular books, and therefore most likely
to bring the notice under the observation of those
whom it might concern.

" ADVERTISEMENT.
"Since, to the great reproach of the nation, and a much greater
one of our holy religion, the thievish disposition of some that enter
into libraries to learn no good there, hath made it necessary to
secure the innocent books, and even the sacred volumes themselves,
with chains— which are better deserved by those ill persons, who
have too much learning to be hanged, and too little to be honest —
care should be taken hereafter, that as additions shall be made to
this library, of which there is a hopeful expectation, the chains
should neither be longer, nor more clumsy, than the use of them
requires, and that the loops, whereby they are fastened to the
books, may be rivetted on such a part of the cover, and so smoothly,
as not to gall or raze the books, while they are removed from or to
their respective places. Till a better way be devised, a pattern is
given in the three volumes of the Centur. Magdeburg, lately given
and set up. And forasmuch as the latter, and much more con
venient manner of placing books in libraryes, is to turn their backs
outwards, with the titles and other decent ornaments in giltwork,
which ought not to be hidden — as in this library, by a contrary
position, the beauty of the fairest volumes is — therefore, to prevent
this for the future, and to remedy that which is past, if it shall be
thought worth the pains, this new method of fixing the chain to the
back of the book is recommended, till one more suitable shall be
contrived." 9

As to this difficulty of access, everybody must see
the reasonableness of it in the very lamentable fact,
that it has been so unsuccessful. But there is another
point of view in which it is worth our notice; and it is

9 This advertisement appears to have been written as recently as
the year 1711, when the practice had generally gone out of fashion.
Martene says of one of the libraries which he visited in 1718, "La
bibliotheque est assez bonne ; tous les livres y sont enchainez selon
1'ancien usage, car l'abbaye de S. Jean des Vignes a toujours ete
fort attachee a ses premieres pratiques." — II. Voy. Lit. 24.

NO. XVII.] DIFFICULTT OF ACCESS TO MSS. 305
very principally on this account that I have said so
much about it. In the first of these papers I said,
" Who can take upon himself to say what is
extant ? " And I wrote these words under the
feeling, that copies (perhaps authors) which are not
known to exist may still be in being. It may seem
strange that I have said so little of the Vatican, the
King of France's Library, the British Museum, and
other vast repositories of manuscripts; but the truth
is, that I know very little about them beyond what
is known to most persons who are likely to take
even the slightest interest in the matter ; and what
is the use of telling the reader that these and other
libraries contain almost innumerable manuscripts ?
He knows it ; and I am rather trying to call his
attention to the fact, that so recently as when these
Benedictines made their tours, there were so great a
number dispersed up and down the country, and
still, if I may so speak, in situ. One might naturally
suppose that, so far as these travellers went (how
small a part of Europe) they saw all that could be
seen ; and it is therefore necessary to state, that
even with their recommendations, and all the
facilities which could not be refused to men of their
character, travelling with their objects, they often
found it difficult, and sometimes impossible, to gain
access to what they were looking for. Ignorance,
suspicion, jealousy, often prevented the archives of
cathedrals and monasteries from being freely open
to them. Yet we must not ascribe every refusal to
so bad a motive. The reader will recollect, that
many manuscripts, which might be curious to the
antiquary, only as fixing a date, or illustrating a
custom, or presenting some singularity of language,
or penmanship, might be extremely valuable to the
owners as a title-deed. Suppose that, in rummaging
the archives, these prying Benedictines had filched
away the diploma of Charles the Bald, by which the
abbey had held broad lands for centuries ; or
suppose, what is more likely, that in the exercise of
x

306 DIFFICULTY OF ACCESS [NO. XV1I.
their diplomatic skill they should suspect it of
being, if not a forgery, a second edition, made to
supply the place of what had really existed; or
suppose, what is still more probable, that in their
search they should not be able to find it at all, and
be obliged to say so in their new Gallia Christiana ?
I am not insinuating dishonesty ; but everybody
who knows anything of the state of real property,
even in our own country, is aware that there is
many a good estate, held by its lawful owner, whose
title no one has a right to dispute, and which is
nevertheless held by him against his will, because
he cannot so prove his title as to be able to sell it.
Indeed, it was the shrewd remark of an able and
experienced lawyer, that the best security which
any man could have for an estate of which he was
in possession, would be the certainty that there were
no title-deeds in existence.1 Owing to this, and the
other causes to which I have alluded, our travellers
sometimes found it no easy matter to make their
way into the archives ; and even when not met by
rudeness, or incivility, they could perceive that the
abbot, or canons, would gladly have dispensed with
their visit.2

1 The reader will easily imagine something like jealousy between
orders, and even individual communities. Something like it, only
on a greater scale, might have been specified among the desolations
of war, especially when of a civil or revolutionary nature. For
instance, in his preface to the catalogue of the Cottonian MSS.
Mr. Planta says — " We are informed by Stukeley, that — Bromsall,
Esquire, of Blunham, in Bedfordshire, high sheriff for the county
of Bedford in the year 1650, was greatly instrumental in preserving
this inestimable treasure during the convulsions of the civil wars,
in which all documents of a constitutional and legal nature were
industriously sought after, in order to be destroyed."
2 At Verdun the archbishop plainly refused to open his archives;
and the dean and chapter, though they opened theirs at first, shut
them the next day, and would not even grant admission to the
" mechant reste d'une bonne bibliotheque qu'ils ont vendue." —
I. Voy. Lit. P. ii. p. 93. At Strasburg, the personal interference
of the Prince of Auvergne (one of the twenty-four noble canons —
tous princes ou comtes), was insufficient (Ib. 145) ; and at Lyons,

NO. XVII.] TO MANUSCRIPTS. 307
Still, though they did not see all that might have
been seen — though their object was not precisely

the strong recommendation of the archbishop was scarcely sufficient
(I. Voy. Lit. 238) to get them admitted. At Rosseauville, "nous
n'y eumes aucune satisfaction." — I. Voy. Lit. p. ii. 177. At St.
Trone, they expected better treatment — "Nous ne pumes cependant
rien voir, pour des raisons dont il est inutile de rapporter les motifs
et le detail."— II. Voy. Lit. 197. At St. Bertin, "La bibliotheque
est remplie d'un tres-grand nombre de manuscrits fort anciens ; "
but they were scarcely permitted to enter, and not allowed to
examine. — I. Voy. Lit. p. ii. 184. At the Cistercian abbey of
Candelle, the abbot refused, in opposition to his monks ; and
Martene was obliged to report in the Gallia Christiana that he had
been there to inspect the archives, " sed non licuit per senem
abbatem, hominem utique suspiciosum." — Ib. 68, G. C, I. c. 56.
At St. Martin de Canigoux, it was just the reverse. The prior
received them " assez charitablement, il nous ouvrit meme les
archives qui sont entieres ; mais a peine eumes-nous vu quelques-
uns des titres, qu'un de ses moines [before described as ' six ou
sept moines sauvages '] vint nous les arracher des mains." — Ib. p.
60. Perhaps at such a place there was less to regret, as Martene
thought at Brindler, where he was plainly told that he could not
see the library. He consoled himself by remarking, that every
thing " parut fort petit et fort mince dans cette maison ; " except,
indeed, the kitchen fire, made of whole trees, and the ten stag-
hounds that lay before it. — II. Voy. Lit. 248. At Gigni they
were received politely by the abbot, who promised that they should
see everything the next day ; by which time he had changed his
mind. — I. Voy. Lit. 173, 174. At Lerins the abbot told them
that the librarian had gone out for a holiday, and would not be
back for a month — " et que ainsi il n'y avoit rien a, faire pour nous
a Lerins. La charite m'oblige de passer sous silence le reste de
notre entretien." — I. Voy. Lit. 273. Sometimes it was managed
with more politeness, as at Lobbes, where the abbot was occupied
in receiving the Princess of Nassau, and turned our travellers over
to the prior, who took them to his garden, and showed them
" beaucoup de puerilitez ; " but they could not get a sight of the
library. — Ib. p. ii. 210. And sometimes, what might be civility,
looked very much like suspicion ; as when the chapter of Chalons,
after having, with much difficulty, granted their request, appointed
four canons, "plutot pour nous obseder que pour nous aceompagner,
qui ne nous permirent pas de rien ecrire." — Ib. 90. Nor does
Martene fail to acknowledge the politeness of the two abbesses of
" l'abbaye du Paraclet, si fameuse par la retraite d'Abaillard et
d' Eloise ; " and especially that of the younger — " qui nous fit
Thonneur de ne nous pas quitter," while searching the archives. —
Ib. p. i. 85. See Note D.

308 BIBLES OF THE DARK AGES [NO. XVII.
the same as ours, and they did not think of mention
ing the manuscripts of the Scriptures which they
met with, unless some accidental circumstance
rendered them remarkable, yet it would be easy to
specify a hundred copies of the whole, or parts of
the Bible, which they happen thus to mention, and
which had existed during the dark ages. I spare
the reader the details on this subject; but there is
one point which seems to me too curious and
interesting to be passed over. I have stated that,
at many places, they found no manuscripts ; and
perhaps I have said enough to account for it. At
other places there were one, or two, or a few only
remaining; and it is worthy of notice, how frequently
such relics consisted of Bibles, or parts of the
Scriptures. It may have been that there were
originally more of them, or it may have been that
they were better taken care of; but either way the
fact is so much to our purpose, that I must be
allowed to specify some of the cases.
At Luxeuil, "II reste dans le bibliotheque quelques
manuscrits, dont les principaux sont 1'ancien lection-
aire de la liturgie Gallicane, ecrit en lettres merovin-
giennes, un commentaire sur les pseaumes d'environ
sept ou huit cens ans, dont les premiers feuillets
sont dechirez  outre cela on voit dans la
sacristie un tres beau texte des eVangiles," which
had been presented by Gerard, who was abbot in
the early part of the eleventh century.3
At the priory of St. Lupicin, near Claude in
Franche Comte, the only manuscript mentioned is a
copy of the Gospels, " un fort beau livre, ecrit en
lettres unciales d'argent sur un velin de pourpre ou
violet, dont l'ecriture n'avoit gueres plus de neuf
cens ans." 4
At St. Claude, the only manuscripts which they
mention are, " une fort belle Bible, qui a bien

3 I. Voy. Lit. 168. Mab. Ann. IV. 237. 4 I. Voy. Lit. 175.

NO. XVII.] STILL IN EXISTENCE. 309
huit cens ans d'ecriture, et un manuscrit de S.
Eucher." 5
At .La Grasse, in Languedoc, the only manuscript
mentioned is " un texte des evangiles qu'on pretend
avoir ete donne par Tempereur Charlemagne." 6
At Joiiarre the only MSS. mentioned are, " deux
textes des evangiles, couverts de lames d'or," one
seven, the other eight, hundred years old.7
At Hautvilliers, " II n'y reste qu'un texte des
evangiles, ecrit en lettres d'or et d'une beaute char-
mante, qui est du temps de l'archeveque Ebon ; " s
that is, a.d. 816—845.
At the cathedral at Rheims, " On y voit encore
plusieurs manuscrits tres-anciens, entr'autres un
texte des evangiles, ecrit sur du velin pourpre, et
une Bible de l'archeveque Hincmar," 9 the successor
of Ebbo.
At Verdun, though the canons had only the
" mechant reste d'une bonne bibliotheque," yet they
had " deux beaux textes des evangiles ; I'un ecrit en
lettres majuscules il y a plus de 900 ans,  '.
et I'autre d'environ 700 ans." l
At Metz, though most of the MSS. belonging to
the cathedral had been transferred to the library of
M. Colbert, " II en reste neanmoins encore quelques
uns qui ne sont pas indifferens. Nous y vimes
entr'autres une tres-belle Bible de sept ou huit cens
ans ; les grands et les petits prophetes ecrits en
lettres Saxone." 2
At Pont a Mousson, in the monastery of St.
Mary, only four MSS. are mentioned, of which two
were, " belles Bibles manuscrites d'environ 500
ans." 3
At St. Michel only two mentioned, one " un tres
beau pseautier, ecrit en Grec." 4
At St. Riquier, notwithstanding the " belle biblio-

6 1.

Voy.

Lit.

177.

6 Ib

. P.

ii. 55.

7 Ib,

74.

8

Ib.

78.

9 Ib

. 79.

1

Ib. 93.

2

Ib.

110.

3 Ib.

128.

4

Ib.

129.

310 BIBLES OF THE DARK AGES [NO. XVII.
theque qui etoit autrefois," there were only two
MSS. " qui meritent quelque attention." One
" un texte des evangiles, ecrit en lettres d'or sur du
velin pourpre, donne a, S. Angilbert par Tempereur
Charlemagne." 5
At St. Vincent's, at Metz, after repeated fires,
"entre le peu de manuscrits qui restent dans la
bibliotheque, nous y vimes un tres-beau texte des
evangiles." 6
At St. Medard, at Soissons, " de tous les anciens
monumens il ne reste a S. Medard qu'un ancien
texte des evangiles, qu'on ne peut trop estimer
 c'est un present que Tempereur Louis le
Debonnaire fit au monastere." 7
At St. Jean de Vigores, " On y voit encore quel
ques manuscrits, que Tin jure des terns n'a pas
dissipe. Les principaux sont une Bible avec des
concordances," and two others.8
At St Vaasfs, at Doiiay, " Nous n'y vimes pour
tout manuscrits qu'un pseautier." 9
" Les differentes revolutions arrivees a Stavelo
sont cause qu' aujourd'hui on n'y trouve pas un si
grand nombre de manuscrits, mais le peu qu'il y en
a est bon. On y voit entr'autres une tres belle
Bible en deux grands volumes." '
At Malmidi, " De tous les anciens monumens on a
a peine sauve de l'incendie cinq ou six manuscrits

» I. Voy. Lit. ii. 175. 6 Ibid. 112. 7 II. Voy. Lit. 17.
» Ib. 24. 9 Ib. 76.
1 Ib. 149. — Its date is given in the following inscription con
tained in it, which may also give an idea of the pains bestowed on
such a work : — " Codices hi ambo quia continuatim et tamen
morosius scripti sunt per annos ferme nn. in omni sua procura-
tione, hoc est scriptura, illuminatione, ligatura uno eodemque anno
perfecti sunt ambo. Licet hic posterior qui est anterior, et ipse
est annus ab incarnatione Domini m. xovii. indictione v. Henrico
mi. imperante, Christianorum exercitu super paganos violenter
agente. Obberto Leodicensi prajsule, Rodulfo Stabulensi abbate,
Christo Domino ut semper infinita sasculoruni saecula regnante.
Amen."

NO. XVII.] STILL IN EXISTENCE. 311
dont les principaux sont une Bible en deux volumes,
et un Joseph." 2
At La Val Dieu, " Nous n'y avons trouve pour
tout manuscrit qu'une Bible assez belle." s
At Grimberg, " La bibliotheque ayant e"te bruise
par les heretiques, tous les manuscrits ont et6 con
sumes par le feu. II n'y reste aujourd'hui que deux
Bibles manuscrites, et d'anciens statuts synodaux
de Teglise de Cambray." 4
At St. Pantaleon, at Cologne, " II y avoit autre
fois plusieurs manuscrits, mais les religieux, qui
n'en connoissoient pas le prix, les ont vendu pour
fort peu de chose : il n'y reste qu'une tres-belle
Bible, Thistoire ecclesiastique de Bierre le Mangeur
et Jean Belet." 6
" Comme tous les anciens monumens de TAbbaye
d'Eisterbac ont ete dissipez dans les guerres, nous
n'y trouv&mes de manuscrits qu'une Bible, avec les
dialogues et les homelies de Cesarius." 6
" Les grandes revolutions arrivees a Epternac
n'ont pas tellement ruine les anciens monumens
qu'il n'y reste encore plusieurs manuscrits ; " and
among them (though only three others are men
tioned) two extraordinary copies of the gospels.7
I am quite aware that such details are tedious,
but I do not know how I could have made out this
part of the argument at all without them. Indeed,
the apprehension of being charged with mere
catalogue-making, has, I fear, led me to state it
very imperfectly. I am, however, very anxious to
get to other portions of the argument, which may,

2 II. Voy. Lit. 171. 3 lb. 199. 4 Ib. 112.
5 Ib. 264. 6 Ib. 270.
7 Ibid. 297. It would be unpardonable not to notice that one
of these MSS. is a copy of the Gospels "ecrit en lettres Saxones,
et corrige a ce qu'on pretend sur l'original meme de Saint
Jerome ; " not, however, from any chance that this was actually
the case, but from the real probability that it belonged to our
countryman Willibrod, and was brought thither by him when he
came there as a missionary in the seventh century.

312 BIBLES OF THE DARK AGES. [NO. XVII.
I hope, be more generally interesting, but which I
could not venture upon without premising some
attempt to show that a good many copies of the
Scriptures did exist in the dark ages ; and that, at
all events, it is the most absurd thing in the world
to infer their non-existence then, from their being
scarce now. I hope to show not only that they
existed, but that they were often in the hands of
those who read and valued them.

313

No. XVIII.
" Esse niger monachus si forte velim Cluniaci,
Ova fabasque nigras cum sale saepe dabunt.
Surgere me facient media de nocte, volentem
Amplius in calido membra fovere thoro.
Quodque magis nollem vellent me psallere sursum,
Et geminare meos in diapente tonos." — Brunellus.
It may perhaps appear from the evidence which has
been adduced, that there is good ground for an
opinion that copies of the Scriptures were not so
exceedingly scarce in the Dark Ages as some
persons would lead us to suppose. I have shown
that a good many existed ; and I have stated (and,
indeed, given some incidental proofs) that this
existence is attested by a considerable number
which have survived those ages, and are now in our
libraries. It certainly was my intention to have
spoken much more fully on the latter of these
points, and to have afforded to the reader something
like a return of the number of copies of the bible,
or of parts of it, which are even now known to exist,
and which are believed, on good grounds, to have been
written in, or before, the Dark Ages. But I pass
it over ; and I might claim the reader's gratitude
for so doing, on the ground that I have already
occupied more space than I intended, or he may
have approved, in what may be considered by many
as dry details. I might tell him, also (and very
truly), that though the inquiry would not be with
out interest, yet it is not very material for my
object, which is, as I have stated, to investigate the
actual state and means of scriptural knowledge
during the Dark Ages. I might add (and with
equal truth), that, having said more than enough
respecting that part of the proof which I introduced

314 ORIGIN [NO. XVIII.
by stating, that it was in my view far from being
the most important, I am anxious to get to some
other parts, which may, it is hoped, prove more
interesting to readers in general, and to some,
perhaps, more convincing. All this I might say —
but I had rather acknowledge the simple fact,
which is, that I am unable, at present, to give
anything like a satisfactory statement on the sub
ject. I hoped that before this time I should have
received information which I have not yet been able
to obtain, and by which I might have rendered
what I have had it in my power to glean less im
perfect. Let us, then, go to another part of the argument.
I do not know whether to call it the next, for the
parts are so connected, and so intimately dependent
on each other, that it is not only impossible to
separate them completely, but extremely difficult to
decide which should be taken first. Hitherto our
inquiries have commonly led us to the monastery in
which the books forming our subject were written
and reposited; and it may be natural to inquire
next (as it is, indeed, a most important point to
learn) how far we have reason to believe that the
inmates of the cloister had any knowledge of the
contents of those volumes of which thev were con
fessedly the transcribers and the guardians. It will
greatly promote our understanding of this, and of
our subject in general, if we first take a hasty
glance at one or two of the monastic institutions of
the period ; especially at one, which may be called
the child of those times, born and brought up in
what is commonly considered as the darkest of the
Dark Ages — the century which has been dis
tinguished as the " Sseculum Obscurum."
As to the pedigree of Count Berno, it is even
more obscure than the age in which he lived ; and
whether he was, or was not, of Burgundian descent,
it does not concern us to inquire. It is clear that
he and his cousin, Laifin, founded the monastery of

NO. XVI1I.J OF CLUGNI. 315
Gigni, in the northern part of the diocese of Lyons,
between Lion-le-Saunier and St. Amour, some time,
and probably not long, before the year 896. This.
appears from a letter of Bope Formosus, dated in
that year, which also informs us they had endowed
it with their property, and that Berno had become
the first abbot.1 That it was not completed for a
considerable time we may presume from the
language of a charter granted by Rodulph, King of
Burgundy, eighteen years afterwards.2 In con
sequence of Berno's application, the king granted

1 Baluz. Misc. ii. 159.
2 The language of the charter is, " Reverentissimus Abbas adiit
nostram magnitudinem petens nos ut quendam locum Gigniacum,
quern ipse Abbas et sui confratres tenent vel construunt regulariter,
rebus proprietatis nostras ditaremus." — Bal. ibid. 161. I know
that it is not safe, in Latin of this period, to lay much stress on
moods and tenses ; but the probability is, that the building was a
long business ; and even if I misconstrue construunt, yet it gives
me an opportunity of reminding my readers, that in those ages to
which we owe most of our churches, and certainly the best, the
building was a gradual process. To this day it is very commonly
so in the Romish church ; while our way, generally speaking, is to
do all at once. Yet, at a time when so much church building is
obviously wanted, and so much actually projected, might it not be
worth while to give a moment's consideration to the old way ?
Generally speaking, we make the church at once all that it is
meant to be ; and with a view to this immediate perfection all our
estimates are framed. For a given sum, say 10,000Z., we can
have one large church of the plan A, or two small churches of the
plan B ; or if we like to have something between the two, we may
have the plan C for 7,500Z. Well, but suppose we want as large
a church as A, and have only half or three quarters of the 10,000Z.;
how much of that plan can we get executed for 5.000Z. or 7,500Z.?
— or, if we want such a church as C, how much of that can we get
executed for the full cost of B ? Can we get a place which, though
to the eye of taste and science it may be obviously unfinished, may
yet be so far complete as to be a respectable place for the per
formance of divine worship for a few years, during which the
original design may be carried into full execution ? It is, humanly
speaking, impossible that one generation should build half the
churches which are now wanted in this country ; but we are build
ing a good many, and we may hope that each one will be a tree
whose seed is in itself, or which will at least have such a principle
of vitality as will enable it to grow up to maturity.

316 ORIGIN [NO. XVIII.
to him and his monastery the cell of Beaume, which
he and his monks had restored and rebuilt ; and he
continued to govern Gigni and the dependent cell
with strict discipline. This, at least, we may
believe, from various circumstances, and especially
from one which occurred about the year 909, when
two strangers applied for admittance into the
fraternity of Beaume. Before they could make the
formal request, some of the monks got about them,
and drew such a picture of the abbot's severity that
one of the strangers would have turned back. Ade-
grin, however, was better informed respecting the
place; and, moreover, had the sagacity to suspect
that those who gave such a horrible account of
discipline might be the persons who were most
obnoxious to it; and, encouraged by him, his com
panion Odo entered.3

3 I have already mentioned that our Benedictine travellers
visited Gigni, and 1 cannot help transcribing a few words of what
they say respecting both these places : — " Nous arrivames a
Beaume comme on sortoit de vepres ; . . . . cette Abbaye est
fort ancienne, et recommandable par la retraite de Saint Odon et
de Saint Adegrin, qui y ont fait profession de la vie religieuse. La
situation est des plus affreuses qu'on puisse voir ; on n'y arrive que
par une gorge serree de deux rochers escarpez d'une hauteur pro-
digieuse. Le lieu meme ou il est batie est fort etroit, et de tous
cotez on ne voit rien que des rochers steriles et elevez a perte de
vue .... Aujourd'hui ce lieu si saint, qui a servi de retraite a
tant de serviteurs de Dieu, et d'asile a, tant de pecheurs convertis,
est devenu en proye a la noblesse du pais, qui regarde 1'abbaye de
Beaume comme une decharge de leur famille; et pour y etre
religieux, il faut faire preuve de seize lignes de noblesse." After
Beaume, they visited Gigni — " Qui etoit autrefois une abbaye
illustre, fondee par S. Bernon, et ensuite reduite en Prieurg soumis
a Cluni. Ce monastere, aussi-bien que celui de Beaume, sert de
decharge aux families nobles .... nous primes le chemin de S.
Claude, et monsieur le Chambrier nous donna un garjon pour nous
conduire a une demie lieue de la. Ce bon enfant se mit a nous
entretenir de la vie des moines de Gigny, comme ils passoient tout
leur temps a se divertir : je n'entre pas dans le detail de ce qu'il
nous dit, parce qu'il ne leur est pas fort honorable. Voila la gloire
que Dieu retire de ces maisons de noblesse, et l'edification qui en
revient au prochain. Et on appelle un grand bien pour les

NO. XVIII.] OF CLUGNI. 317
In the next year, the abbot Berno laid the foun
dations of what afterwards became one of the most
celebrated and influential monasteries, during, and
beyond, the period of the Dark Ages. Under the
auspices, and at the expense, of William, Count of
Auvergne, commonly called William the Fious, he
formed a monastery at Clugni, near Macon, in
Burgundy. As to the monasteries which he after
wards founded or superintended, it is not to our
purpose to inquire; for it is only as the founder of
Clugni that I here introduce him. To that monas
tery he transferred his residence; and Odo, who
accompanied him, became his successor in the year
927. The fame of this second abbot of Clugni so
far eclipsed that of his predecessor that many have
erroneously considered him as the founder; but
however probable it may be that he was the man of
the most learning, the most expanded mind, and
most extensive views, and perhaps of better in
formed, if not more zealous piety, yet it were unjust
to deny that what he did was built on the founda
tion of his predecessor, and that he was probably
enabled to do it, not only by the property which had
been acquired, or the buildings which had been
raised, but by the rigid discipline which had been
instituted and maintained.
Odo, before he came to Beaume, had been school-

families de la Province, ce qui est capable de leur attirer la
malediction de Dieu." — I. Voy. Lit. 171, &c. Only imagine that
St. Berno could have resumed his place, and that some friendly
voice had whispered to these modern religious, as the monks of
Beaume did to Odo, when he applied for admission, " Nosti con-
suetudinem Bernonis Abbatis ? At ille : Nusquam, inquit. Et
illi : Heu, heu, si sciretis quam dure scit ille monachum tractare.
Correptionem vero suam sequuntur verbera, et rursum quos
verberat compedibus ligat, domat carcere, jejuniis affligit : et hsec
omnia perpessus, nee sic suam potest miser impetrare gratiam."
Mab. A. S. vii. 158. Making all due allowance for exaggeration,
there must have been something about Abbot Berno which the
merry monks of the eighteenth century would not have liked at all.

318 ODO, ABBOT [NO. XVIII.
master and precentor of the cathedral church of St.
Martin, at Tours, While in his cradle, his father
had devoted him to that saint ; and he had been
brought up by Fulk the Good, Count of Anjou, who
was himself one of the canons of that church.4 As
he grew up, his father seems to have repented of his
oblation to St. Martin, and to have wished to bring
up his son to a military life ; and for that purpose,
he placed him in the service of the Count of
Auvergne, who has been already mentioned. But
military exercises and field sports seem soon to have
become wearisome to young Odo. An inveterate
headache, which, from his seventeenth to his nine
teenth year defied all the medical skill which his
parents could procure for him, seems to have at
length awakened the father's conscience, and to
have reminded him that his suffering son had been
devoted to St. Martin ; and superstition suggested
that the sickness was judicial, and indicated the
anger of the saint. The vow was performed, and,
perhaps, without much reluctance by the father;

4 " In monasterio beati Martini apud Turonos collegio fratrum
adscriptus, Canonicus ibidem esse, et dici, gaudebat. In festis
etiam ejusdem Sancti in choro inter psallentes clericos cum veste
dericali, et sub disciplina eorum astabat." The count's pithy
letter to Lewis the Fourth of Prance, who had ridiculed him for
this, is well known — " Regi Fraiicorum Comes Andegavorum :
Noveritis, Domine, quod Rex illiteratus est asinus coronatus." It
is to the credit of Lewis, who, if he was an illiterate king, certainly
was not merely an ass with a crown on, that he observed on reading
it, " It is true that wisdom, and eloquence, and letters, are espe
cially becoming in kings and counts ; for the more exalted any man
is in point of station, the more eminent should he be in respect of
morals and learning." The historian adds, that those who laughed
at the pious and book-learned count, were constrained to respect
the soldier: — "Factum est ut omnes qui Deo dignum ac litteratum
Consulem ac strenuum militem illudendo caput agitabant, post-
modum eum in reverentiam haberent, qui licet litteris regulisque
gvammatica? artis, Aristotelicis Ciceronianisque ratiocinationibus
perspicacius peritissime eruditus esset, inter majores et meliores ac
strenuos milites optimus habebatur." — Gesta Cons. Andegav. ap.
Dach. Spicil. iii. 245.

NO. XVIII.] OF CLUGNI. 319
who, though a layman, and tempted for awhile to
devote his handsome and accomplished son to that
which was then considered the most noble profession,
was himself a learned and a reading man. " My
father," said Odo, in reply to the inquiries of the
monk to whom we are indebted for his life, " was
named Abbo, but he seemed to be a different sort of
person, and to have acted differently, from men of
the present day ; for he had by heart the histories
of the ancients, and the Novelise of Justinian. At
his table there was always the reading of the gospel.
If at any time a dispute arose, there was such a
general opinion of the soundness of his judgment,
that people came to him from all parts to obtain his
decision ; and on this account, he was much
respected by everybody, and particularly by the
most puissant Count William." Odo seems to have
inherited the taste for reading. I have, in a former
paper, mentioned how he was deterred from the
study of heathen literature,5 but it was only
to pursue sacred knowledge — relictis car minibus
poetarum, alti edoctus spiritu consilii, ad Evangeli-
orum, Brophetarumque expositores se totum con-
vertit — and when he entered at the priory of
Beaume he brought with him his private stock of
books, amounting to a hundred volumes. He
succeeded Berno as Abbot of Clugni in the year
927. My object is not to write the history of the
monastery, or the lives of its abbots ; my reason for
mentioning the place at all will soon be obvious ;
but I wish first, as briefly as possible, to give the
reader some idea of the persons whose names I am
obliged to mention, and to state some few circum
stances respecting them which have reference to my
object. With this view I give the following anec
dotes of Odo : —
" At that time," says his biographer, " when we

No. XL p. 203.

320 ODO OF CLUGNI. [NO. XVIII.
were crossing the Cottian Alps, with Gerald, Bishop
of Biez ... in that same journey there was a
feeble old man, who was passing over that part of
the Alps at the same time with us. He was carrying
a bag full of bread, and garlic, and onions, and
leeks, the smell of which herbs I could by no means
endure. But the pious father no sooner saw the old
man than he made him get on his horse, and under
took to carry the most vile-smelling bag himself ;
and I, unable to bear such a stink, dropt away from
the side of my companion. Having got over the
steepest part of the Alps and beginning to descend,
I saw him from a distance yield to the importunity
of the old man, and remount his horse ; but even
then he did not give back the bag to its owner, but
hung it at his saddle bow. I then set forward,
passing those who were before me ; and when I got
near to him I went hastily, and with a sense of
shame, and presently after I had come up with him,
he called to me, 'Come here, for there are still some
psalms remaining which we have to chaunt ; ' and
when I told him that I could not bear the stink of
that bag, he immediately rebuked me, saying,
' Alack- a- day, what you call stinking the poor man
can eat, while you cannot bear to smell it ; the poor
man can carry it, and you say you cannot bear to
look at it.' But this he said with reference to
himself, who was one of the true poor of Christ;
and with these, and the like sayings, he reproved
me, and so cured my sense of smelling, that I was
no longer sensible of any ill savour." 6
I mention this circumstance principally for the
sake of noticing the custom of repeating the psalms
on a journey, which was by no means a peculiarity
of Odo. It might, indeed, in this case, be the office
for the canonical hours ; but, independent of this, I
believe the custom of repeating the psalms under

6 Mab. A. S. Tom. vii. p. 165.

NO. XVIII.] AYMARD AND HAIOLUS. 321
such circumstances to have been very frequent. The
biographer of Odo tells us, that being obliged to
travel about a great deal on diplomatic business
(pro pace regum et principum), as well as for the
reformation of monasteries, thieves lay in wait for
him ; and once a banditti of forty were on the point
of attacking him ; but when one of them who was
their leader, named Aimon, saw him, and the monks
who were with him, persist in chanting the psalms
without interruption, and go on their way thus
chanting, he was immediately struck with compunc
tion, and said to his companions, " I do not
remember ever to have seen such men as these, and
I do not think that such have been seen anywhere
else ; " nor could the entreaties of his comrades
persuade him to attack them.7
Odo was succeeded by Aymard, who was an old
man at the time of his election ; and who, becoming
blind six years afterwards, resigned the office of
abbot, in the year 942, in favour of Maiolus, or, in
more modern language, St. Mayeul. Aymard,
however, lived many years after this, and appears
to have considered himself as still abbot, and on
one occasion to have vindicated his authority in a
manner which may be worth noticing, as it gives a
lively picture of the discipline and subordination
kept up in the monastery.

7 There may, perhaps, appear, to enlightened readers of the
present day, something very ridiculous in the perpetual psalm-
singing of the monks ; and, in fact, it has been a very common
topic of pleasantry. Were it not that the malignity is as disgust
ing as the absurdity is amusing, one must needs laugh at the
motive which Tyndale, the reformer, assigns for the practice : —
" Your singing is but roaring, to stretch out your maws (as do
your other gestures and rising at midnight) to make the meat sink
to the bottom of the stomach, that he may have perfect digestion,
and be ready to devour afresh against the next refection." — Expos.
on Matt. vii. 15. It does not enter into our present purpose to
discuss their motive — the fact that there was one very large portion
of the scriptures which they were expected to know by heart, and
which they were continually repeating, is obvious and important. Y

322 AYMARD AND MAIOLUS. [NO. XVIII.
" From the monks of the venerable monastery of
Clugni," says Peter Damian, who visited the place
in the year 1062, " I happened to learn two remark
able instances of holy humility, one of which may
be extremely edifying to prelates, and the other to
subjects. Aymard, who was abbot of that monastery,
made Maiolus his substitute ; and sought repose in
his old age. While he was living as a private person
in the infirmary, he sent one evening for some
cheese, which the cellarer, being as usual very busy,
not only did not give, but bestowed some uncivil
speeches on the messenger, complaining that there
was such a multitude of abbots, and that he did not
know how to manage with so many masters. The
old man having heard of this, was not a little
offended; and, being entirely blind, the vexation
took the greater hold on his mind; for blind persons,
from the very circumstance of their want of sight,
ruminate more deeply in their hearts on what they
hear, and it acts as a greater stimulus to resentment,
because the impression is not weakened by the sight
of external objects. In the morning, however, he
ordered his servant to lead him into the chapter,
and being come there, he addressed the abbot to
this effect — ' Brother Maiolus, I did not set you
above myself that you might persecute me, or rule
over me as a buyer does over his slave, but I chose
you that you might feel for me as a son for a father ; '
— and, after a good deal to the same purport, being
nearly overcome, he added, ' Are you, I beg leave
to ask, my monk ? ' and the other replying, 'I am,
and I profess that I wag never more so than I am at
this moment,' — ' If you are my monk,' said Aymard,
' instantly quit your seat and go to the place which
you used to occupy.' Maiolus, on hearing this,
immediately rose, and, as he was ordered, took a
lower place ; and Aymard, as if he had come home
again after an absence, took the vacant seat. He
stated his charge against the cellarer who had
offended him, and while he was prostrate, sharply

NO. XVIII.] MAIOLUS, ABBOT OF CLUGNI. 323
rebuked him, and then enjoined him such penance
as he thought proper. Then, having performed all
the duty for which he had resumed that brief
authority, he immediately dethroned himself, and
ordered Maiolus to resume his seat. He did so
without the slightest hesitation." 8

8 Opusc. 33, c. 7, cited Mab. A. S. Tom. V. p. 233. The Liber
Ordinis S. Victoris Parisiensis, cited by Du Cange in v. Infirmaria,
says, " In infirmaria tria sunt genera infirmorum. Sunt enim
quidam qui lecto prorsus decubant. Sunt alii qui de infirmitate
convalescunt, et jam surgere et ambulare possunt : sed tamen pro
reparatione virium adhuc in Infirmaria sunt. Sunt alii qui hujus-
modi infirmitatem non habent, et tamen in Infirmaria assidue
comedunt et jacent ut senes, et coeci, et debiles et hujusmodi."
Turketul, who has been already mentioned (No. XV. p. 269)
was Abbot of Croyland at the same time that Maiolus presided at
Clugni. Ingulph gives us an interesting account of the classes
into which he divided his monks. First, the juniors, who remained
in that class during the first twenty-four years after their profession.
Secondly, those who had passed through that period, and were for
the next sixteen years excused from certain services and severities
of monastic discipline, but bore the labour and responsibility of the
general management of the monastery — " cum istis magnitudo
negotiorum, et providentia consiliorum, ac totius loci solicitudo
specialiter incumbit." Thirdly, those who had passed through both
these periods, and had therefore been monks forty years. These
were called the seniors, and were for the next ten years entitled to
greater indulgences. Indeed, after the two first years of the ten,
they were excused from all official duties of a secular nature, except
in cases of emergency. " He who has attained the fiftieth year of
profession," continues Ingulph, " shall be called a Sempecta, and
he shall have a good chamber assigned to him by the prior, in the
infirmary ; and he shall have an attendant or servant specially
appointed to wait on him, who shall receive from the abbot an
allowance of provision, the same in mode and measure as is allowed
for the servant of a knight in the abbot's hall. To the Sempecta
the prior shall every day assign a companion, as well for the
instruction of the junior, as for the solace of the senior ; and their
meals shall be supplied to them from the infirmary kitchen accord
ing to the allowance for the sick. As to the Sempecta himself, he
may sit or walk, or go in or go out, according to his own will and
pleasure. He may go in and out of the choir, the cloister, the
refectory, the dormitory, and the other offices of the monastery,
with or without a frock, how and when he pleases. Nothing
unpleasant respecting the concerns of the monastery shall be talked
of before him. Nobody shall vex him about anything, but in the

324 MAIOLUS, ABBOT [NO. XVIII.
Maiolus, soon after his entrance into the monas
tery, had been appointed librarian, and held some

most perfect peace and quietness of mind, he shall wait for his
end." There is something in this arrangement, this care " to rock the
cradle of declining age," so beautiful that I do not like to suppress
it, especially as it throws light, which some readers may want, on
the fact of the old abbot's residence in the infirmary; but the worst
of these long notes is, that they do themselves want notes ; at least
I do not like to give this passage without two. First, if any
reader does not understand what is meant by the word Sempecta, I
wish him to know that I am in the same predicament, having
never seen any etymology which was at all satisfactory. Secondly,
I hesitated a good while before I could bring myself to translate
froccus by frock, though I believe that to be the right word, and
that the garment was so called by the monks of France in the
vulgar tongue, merely because (notwithstanding some recent
changes in clerical costume) I do not like to suggest the idea of a
person so aged, and circumstanced, in a frock coat. As to the
garment itself, not having the artist, whom Ingulph calls the
" Serviens Cissor de Sartrina," of Croyland, at my elbow, I am not
sure that I could describe it with technical accuracy ; but it may
perhaps be enough to say that it was the upper garment, differing
only from that commonly used by the monks from its having no
cowl. Another evil of these long notes is, that one gets into a
gossiping way, and one story leads to another. I cannot fancy this
Sempecta rambling about the monastery at his pleasure without
being reminded of an old soldier of my acquaintance, who, after
gaining great reputation, but losing his two sons, in the crusades,
took refuge in a cloister — or, as a monk of the house says : —
" Ipse post militise cursum temporalis,
Illustratus gratia doni spiritualis,
Esse Christi cupiens miles specialis,
In hac domo monachus factus est claustralis.
Ultra modum placidus, dulcis et benignus,
Ob astatis senium candidus ut cygnus,
Blandus et affabilis, ac amari dignus,
In se Sancti Spiritus possidebat pignus.
Nam sanctam ecclesiam ssepe frequentabat,
Missarum mysteria lsetus auscultabat,
Et quas scire poterat laudes personabat,
Ac Cfelestem gloriam mente ruminabat.
Ejus conversatio dulcis et jocosa,
Valde commendabilis et religiosa,
Ita cunctis fratribus fuit gratiosa,
Quod nee gravis extitit nee fastidiosa."

NO. XVIII.] OF CLUGNI. 325
other important offices ; but, as I am not writing
his memoirs, I say nothing of the various transactions
in which he was engaged, of the monasteries which
he reformed, of the preferment (including the papacy)
which he refused — but I will notice one or two
things respecting his literary character. I have
said that Odo (one of his predecessors) had been
deterred from the study of profane learning by a
dream ; and Maiolus seems, without any such
intimation, to have renounced it, so far, at least, as
poetry was concerned. It may be a sufficient proof
that he was a reading man, if I say that it was his

We may easily suppose that the old crusader, who had gone to the
Holy Land " Equis et divitiis satis sublimatus, et prasclara militum
turba stipatus," and who had himself been employed as an
ambassador to the Soldan, had tales of travel and danger which
would make him a very acceptable companion in a monastery ;
and we may imagine him roaming about it like the old Sem
pecta — " Hic per claustrum quotiens transiens meavit,
Hinc et hinc ad monachos caput inclinavit,
Et sic nutu capitis eos salutavit,
Quos affectu intimo plurimum amavit."
I am ashamed of the length of this note — but I must add what
really relates to our subject. I do not know whether this old
gentleman was generally quartered in the infirmary, or whether
it was only so when he was ill ; but we are told that, in that
case —
" Ipse nihilominus missas frequentabat
Unde Infirmarius ipsum increpabat,
Et ut requiesceret eum exorabat.
Dicens, ' Franco, remane, vinum tibi dabo
Et te bonis epulis pascam et cibabo.' " &c. — Mart. iii. 1333.
I cite this that the reader may see, by the argument of the Infir
marius, that the young brother who was appointed in turn to spend
the day with the Sempecta, was not sent on an unpleasant duty.
All was, of course, subject to rule, but there was more licence as to
good cheer in the infirmary than in any other part of the monastery ;
and, in fact, sham wgrotats were among the little tricks against
which the superiors in monasteries had to be on their guard.

326 MAIOLUS, ABBOT [NO. XVIII.
custom to read on horseback.9 There is certainly a
story of his falling asleep over the works of
Dionysius the Areopagite — a thing which might be
forgiven, if for no other reason, to men who never
had a night's rest; especially if, as one of his

9 " Adeo lectioni semper erat deditus, ut in itinere positus
libellum ssepius gestaret in manibus. Itaque in equitando reficie-
batur animus legendo."— Mab. A. S. VII. 771. The same thing
(and, omitting semper, in the same words) is told of Halinardus,
who became Abp. of Lyons in a.d. 1046. Ibid. IX. 35. I do not
wish to anticipate what I hope to say of reading-men in the Dark
Ages ; but of course it is impossible to prevent their making their
appearance incidentally from time to time. I cannot, however,
mention their equitation without annexing some kind of protest ;
and, to say the least, an expression of doubt whether they ought
to ride on horseback at all without some good reason. This same
Abbot Maiolus nearly lost his life by going to sleep on his horse,
who happily stopped just in time to save him from being struck by
the projecting branch of a tree. Ibid. VII. 384. And Thierry,
afterwards Abbot of St. Hubert's, in the forest of Ardennes (born
1007), got into circumstances of still greater peril. While he was
a monk at Stavelo he was attending his Abbot Poppo to Liege,
and somehow (" forte intentus cantico psalmorum," says his
biographer), he suffered his horse to wander from the company,
and follow a by-path, just as they were coming to the Ambleve.
Though the river was swelled with the winter's rain, and the foam
ing torrent was rolling forward stones and uprooted trees, the abbot
and the rest of his train passed over the ford in safety; and having
arrived at the other side they saw the poor monk, still muffled in
his hood, and wholly unconscious of his situation, riding on a lofty
wooden bridge, constructed for foot passengers only, and supposed
to be altogether impassable for any others (pons ligneus, in medios
quidem agros ab utraque fluminis ripa distentus, in medio autem
propter hibernas aquas longe elatus ; sed ita angustus, ut neque
equis, neque bobus, neque asinis possit esse aliquo modo pervius).
Thierry, we are told, never once looked about him ; and to this,
humanly speaking, he seems to have owed his preservation. He
knew nothing of the danger in which he had been placed, until he
had descended among his anxious companions, in whose thankful
ness and astonishment he heartily joined when they had explained
to him the cause of it — mirantibus et prasdicantibus sociis divinae
virtutis gratiam in suo facto ipse stupuit. — Ibid. IX. 566. A more
prudent man was Gerard Bishop of Csannad in Hungary (cir. a.d.
1048), who always rode in a carriage, reading his own works — non
jumento utebatur sed vehiculo, in quo sedens, libros quos Sancti
Spiritus gratia composuerat, relegebat. — Ibid. VIII. 551.

NO. XVIII.] OF CLUGNI. 327
biographers tells us, he had been preaching; "distri-
buta in monachos substantia verbi Dei, et sermone
ad eos habito."
One other circumstance of his life I must also
mention. Beturning from Borne, he and his com
panions were set upon in one of the passes of the
Alps, and taken prisoners by the Saracens. Of
course they were plundered ; and the abbot's
biographer tells us that he lost all the books which
he had with him except one — caeteros sacros codices
cum omnibus quas hic habebat. That one was a book
on the Assumption of the Virgin, which he seems to
have had in his bosom at the time (vestis sub
tegmine) and which escaped the search of the
enemy.1 The hope of ransom gained him permission
to send a monk to Clugni with the following pithy
epistle, manu propria conscriptam, — ¦
" To the lords and brethren of Clugni, the wretched Maiolus, a
captive and in chains.
" The floods of ungodly men have compassed me about ; the
snares of death prevented me.2 Send, if you please, the price of
ransom for me, and those who were made prisoners with me."
This letter produced grief and consternation
among the brethren ; and the next day a large sum
(infiniti ponderis pecunia), which was raised by
almost stripping the monastery of whatever could
be turned into money, was sent off, and the abbot
regained his liberty. Moreover, as his biographer
tells us, the outrage was revenged by the Christians,
who slew the Saracens, and took great spoil, which
they divided among themselves. They considered,
however, that the Abbot Maiolus had a right to a

1 Mab. A. S. VII. 779. The learned Benedictine does not lose
the opportunity of stating that there had been a controversy in the
ninth century between Hincmar, Abp. of Rheims, and " nostros
Corbeienses," in which the latter had maintained that this book was
not a genuine work of St. Jerome.
2 Torrentes Belial, as in the Vulgate and Heb. II. Sam.
xxii. 5, 6.

328 MAIOLUS, ABBOT OF CLUGNI. [NO. XVIII.
share ; because, though absent, there could be no
doubt that the victory was in some degree owing to
his merits ; and therefore (either from a knowledge
of his taste, or more probably under the guidance of
their own) they assigned to him all the books of
which he had been plundered — "propterea sacros
codices, quos barbari rapuerant beato viro, sua pro
parte miserunt."
I wish Brother Syrus, to whom we are indebted
for this account, had told us what the books were,
especially as it appears from another source that the
single book which he mentions as having been saved
was not the best which the abbot had in his travel
ling library. Glaber Bodulphus incidentally mentions
that while he was in the hands of the Saracens, one
of them, who was smoothing a piece of wood, grieved
him by putting his foot on the Bible, which,
" according to custom, he was in the habit of carry
ing with him."3 That he was, indeed, with whatever
mixture of superstition, in the habit of deferring to
the Word of God, may be charitably hoped from
another fact incidentally stated by his biographer —
or, if this be thought too much, it will at least show
that he had the Word of God at hand, and thought
it worth while to appear to consult it. I have
already said that he refused the papacy — the
Emperor Otho II. and the Empress so strongly
urged him to accept it, that he knew not what to
do ; for, says his biographer, " he would not leave
the little flock which it had pleased Christ to commit
to him ; and desired to live in poverty with Him
who descended from the height of heaven, and became
poor. But, being pressed by both these great
persons, he endeavoured to obtain some delay.
Then he betook himself to the refuge of prayer,
3 " Alius quoque Saracenorum eorumdem cultro deplanans ligni
castulam, posuit incunctanter pedem super viri Dei codicem, biblio
thecam scilicet, quam ex more secum consueverat." — Mab. A. S.
VII. 756.

NO. XVIII.] ODILO, ABBOT OF CLUGNI. 329
hoping, through that means, to obtain the divine
guidance as to what he should do, and what answer
he should make to such powerful importunity. As
he rose from prayer, a copy of the epistles happened
to catch his eye ; and having opened it, a passage
presented itself at the top of the page, which he
looked upon as a word of instruction from heaven.
What he thus found he began reading to those about
him. ' Beware, lest any man spoil you through
philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of
men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after
Christ.' He confessed to his companions that he
ought, with all his soul, to practise that which this
text of Scripture taught him; " and in fact he did
so — he remained Abbot of Clugni as long as he
lived. In the year 990, when Maiolus had governed the
monastery two-and-forty years, Odilo was associated
with him (as Maiolus had been with Aymard), and
in the year 994 he succeeded him. The only points
of his history which I will here mention bear a
considerable resemblance to those just mentioned
with respect to Maiolus. The monastery of Nantua
had been placed under his care ; and once, in going
over Mount Jura, in his way to Geneva, he was
obliged to cross a river which ran down the side of
that mountain. The mule which carried his bed
and his books (qui lectulum hominis Dei ferebat
simul cum libris) being without a guide, missed the
proper ford, and began to get into deep water. All
the company ran together, shouting, and the animal,
by a strong effort, raised itself, and reached the
bank with outstretched neck. A servant put forth
his hand to catch at the bridle, but the mule,
misconstruing the action, turned about, swam across
the stream, with only its head above water, and, on
reaching the opposite bank, was with some difficulty
rescued. Brother Jotsald (the contemporary bio
grapher of Odilo) mentions these circumstances on
account of the miracle which followed. On opening

330 ODILO, ABBOT [NO. XVIII.
the package which the mule carried, the cloths, such
as napkins, towels, &c, alone were wet, and the bed
(I suppose I should say mattress) and books were
dry. Master Peter, who had charge of the abbot's
things, and who had been in a dreadful fidget while
the mule was in the water, pushed forward, and was
the first to tell the abbot what he could not be
brought to believe, until, on their arrival at the
quarters for the night, he ordered the books to be
brought to him. Whether he then supposed that
there had been any miracle I do not know ; but all
that he is recorded to have said is, " Oh, my dear
brethren, you see the wonderful mercy of God to us.
Indeed, he has preserved to us unhurt those things
which would have been irrecoverably spoiled by
being wet, and has suffered those things to become
wet which could sustain no injury from it." What
ever view the abbot, or his biographer might take
of the matter, the modern reader will perhaps be
most disposed to find a miracle in the fact that the
books were there at all.
On another occasion, while passing over the same
mountains, a horse, who bore a variety of packages,
lost his footing, and slipped down the side, until he
reached the deep valley, full of sharp rocks. It was
with much difficulty that they could get to him ; but
when they did, they found him unhurt, and part of
his burthen with him; but the abbot's sacramentary,
written in letters of gold, and some glass vessels
with embossed work were missing — qua? res non
parum viri Dei masstificavit animum.4 It could not,
however, be helped, nor could the rain and snow

4 This was part of his travelling capella, as they called the
collection of all things necessary for the performance of divine
offices which prelates and ecclesiastics of rank took with them on
their journeys. For instance, Ekkehard, junior (who wrote about
1040), mentions, in speaking of an Archbishop of Treves, " capel-
lam qua itinerans utebatur cum reliquiis, et libris, et omnibus
utensilibus sacris." — Ap. Gold. Ser. Rer. Al. I. p. 15. Many other
instances are referred to by Du Cange in v. Capella, No. 3.

NO. XVIII.] OF CLUGNI. 331
which followed ; but when the abbot arrived in the
evening, at a cell belonging to the Abbey of St.
Claude, he besought the brethren to institute a
search, which they cheerfully undertook to do.
Here accounts differ; but (whether on the next
day, or two months after, when the snow had
thawed and the lost goods were forgotten) all agree
that the book and the glasses were found uninjured.
If he resembled his predecessor in thus carrying
about books, he resembled him also in refusing —
seriously and absolutely — very high preferment
when urged upon him by almost irresistible authority.
The pope would have made him Archbishop of
Lyons, sent him the pall and ring, and peremptorily
ordered him to assume the office. He positively
refused; and, notwithstanding the most urgent
entreaties and menaces of the pope,5 he continued
Abbot of Clugni.

5 See the pope's letter, Dach. Sp. III. 381, and Lab. Cone.
IX. 858.

332

No. XIX.
" Sicut tibi notum est, sacra lectio et oratio in nostro ordine sibi
invicem succedunt. De lectione itur ad orationem, ab oratione
reditur ad lectionem ; et sicut vester ordo [Cisterciensis] est
activus, quia elegit sibi justum laborem cum Martha ; ita noster
ordo est contemplativus, quia elegit sibi sanctum otium cum Maria,
quse quia elegit sibi, Christo teste, partem meliorem, non dubito
nostrum ordinem vestro ordine esse digniorem." — Dial. Int.
Cluniac. et Cistercien. Mon.
One might easily say a great deal about Hugh,
Abbot of Clugni, for he held the office sixty years ;
that is, from a.d. 1049 to 1109, and was engaged in
many of the most important transactions of his
time ; but of the ten thousand monks who are said
to have been under his superintendence, my present
business is with one, for whose sake I have given
this slight reference to the history of Clugni and its
abbots. Let us come to him at once.
Ulric was born of a noble family at Batisbon.
His father, Bernold, was high in the favour of the
Emperor Henry III., and he was himself brought
up in the court. His disposition to letters was
manifested very early ; and his constant attendance
on divine service, and the interest which he took in
it (though, in his case, it seems to have been self-
devotion), has led his biographer to compare him to
the child Samuel.1 He became a favourite with the
Empress Agnes, whom I have had occasion to

1 " Divinse legis praecepta, docente eum intrinsecus Spiritu-sancto,
intentissime legebat, legendo intelligebat, intelligendo conservabat,
conservando summa mentis alacritate, quantum in ipso fuerat,
operibus implere satagebat. In templo Domini crebro aderat, ac
laudes supernas majestati pro modulo suo devote celebrans, in con-
spectu Domini Sabaoth, velut alter Samuel, simplici mente minis-
trabat."— Mab. A. S. IX. 777, 778.

NO. XIX.] ULEIC, A MONK OF CLUGNI. 333
mention once before.2 That* she was the consort of
Henry III., — that after his death, in the year 1056,
she acted as regent, — that she had the management
of her son, Henry IV., then only five years old,
until, six years afterwards, he was taken from her
by stratagem, — and that she subsequently devoted
herself to a religious life, are facts which may be
found in most histories of the period ; but as she
has thus come in our way, I wish to speak of her
somewhat more particularly, for there are one or
two documents relating to her history which seem
to me very interesting. The first is a short letter
(or rather a part of one, but, I believe, all that has
been published) to the abbot and monks of Frutari,
which strongly, though briefly aud unaffectedly,
describes the unhappy state of mind under which
she pursued that migratory course of devotion,
which, though complimented as resembling the
journey of the Queen of Sheba, was, in fact, leading
her about from shrine to shrine, from one broken
cistern to another, ignorant of the rock which
followed her : —
" Agnes, empress and sinner, to the good father Albert, and the
brethren assembled in the name of the Lord, at Frutari, offers the
service of an handmaid, whose eyes are unto the hands of her
mistress. " My conscience terrifies me worse than any spectre, or any
apparition. Therefore I fly through the places of the saints, seek
ing where I may hide myself from the face of this terror ; and I
am not a little desirous to come to you, whose intercession I have
found to be a certain relief. But our ways are in the hand of God,
and not left to our own will. In the meantime, I do in spirit kneel
at your feet,3 &c."
Peter Damian, whom she met with at Borne, and
to whom she made a general confession, bears
witness to the deep anguish with which she detailed
what seemed to him to amount only to vain thoughts
and childish levities, for which he knew not how to

2 No. XIII. p. 228. 3 Mab. Anal. I. 164.

334 JOHN, ABBOT [NO. XIX.
assign any penance. What she gained from him I
know not ; but I am inclined to hope and believe
that her troubled spirit was afterwards under the
instruction of one who was, in some degree, qualified
to lead her feet into the way of peace. I form this
opinion of John, who was Abbot of Fescamp, in
Normandy, for fifty years, from a few scraps which
have been published from his neglected, and almost
unknown, manuscripts.4 One is entitled " Thanks
givings for the Benefits of the Divine Mercy." But
it seems rather to have been a prayer, composed
when he entered on the office of .abbot. The marks
of omission I give as I find them, without knowing
whether they indicate that the MS. was imperfect or
illegible, or that the transcriber intentionally omitted
the intervening words : —
" Christ God, my hope  I pray, entreat, and beseech
thee, that thou wouldst perfect in me that work of thy mercy which
thou hast begun. For I, the lowest of thy servants, not forgetting
those benefits of thy compassion which thou hast granted to me, a
sinner, do give thee thanks, that through thy mere mercy thou hast
freed me, unworthy as I am, from the bonds of original sin, by the
water of sacred baptism, and by the renewing of the Holy Ghost
 Thou shepherd and ruler of all, Christ God, who, for
no worthiness of mine, but only by the condescension of thy mercy,
hast called my littleness to this pastoral office, for thine own sake,
and for the sake of thy holy name, fit me for this service, that I
may govern thy house wisely, and may be enabled to feed thy flock
according to thy will in all things. Grant, for the honour of thy
name, that, with much fruit of this brotherly society, I may attain
to thy glory  I know, and am assured, that thou canst

4 He was a native of Ravenna, and had been a monk of St.
Benignus, at Dijon ; and his biographer, a contemporary monk of
that society, after celebrating his erudition, his knowledge of
medicine, and other good qualities, tells us that, on account of his
being a very little man, he was called Johannelinus, or Johnny 
" ab exilitate Joannelinus diminutivo nomine est dictus ¦ sed
humilitatis, sapientise, discretionis et ceterarum virtutum tanta in
eo refulsit gratia, ut, sicut sanctus refert Gregorius in libro Dialo-
gorum de Constantio Presbytero, ita in hoc mirum esset intuentibus
in tam parvo corpore gratia Dei tanta dona exuberare."  Ap. Mab.
ibid. 167.

NO. XIX.] . OF FESCAMP. 335
produce good and great increase of thy flock by me, little and weak
as I am ; for I am but a child, and a little man of no strength,
having none of the qualities which should be required, or which are
worthy of such an office. Despairing, then, of my own littleness,
I breathe only in thy mercy. But though thou art great in the
things which are great, yet thou dost still more gloriously work out
great things by those which are least. Surely thy praise will be
the sweeter, and, after the manner of men, more full, if by me,
little as I am, thou shalt condescend to work out great things for
thy flock  Give to me a full sufficiency of heavenly and of
earthly things, that I may have wherewithal to feed and to main
tain thy flock, both in soul and body, and without hesitation to
receive those who shall come in thy name : and, at the same time,
to regulate the places committed to my charge, and to provide, in
a fit and becoming manner, for the peace and welfare of the
brethren  Two things I beg of thee ; one of them, do
not, for thy mercy's sake, refuse me. I beseech thee, by all thy
compassions, give me thy heavenly consolation in my many troubles ;
for that most heavy burden which is placed upon my weak shoulders
I cannot bear, and I am afraid to put down  I give thee
thanks, 0 Lord, who hast separated me from the company of this
vain world, and hast brought me into thy holy service," &c.
From this little abbot the empress sought instruc
tion ; and he wrote a book for her use. It exists
only, I believe, in manuscript ; but the preface,
which has been published, is as follows : —
" Long since, imperial lady, you were pleased to signify your
desire that I should collect from the sacred writings some short
and plain discourses, from which you might learn, according to
your order, and without wearisome labour, a rule of good life ; for
every rank, age, and sex, has its own peculiar instruction for con
duct in the sacred books ; so that each one, walking rightly in the
vocation in which he is called, may arrive at the kingdom in which
there are many mansions. At length, after the decease of your
late consort, of revered memory, the most illustrious and wise
Emperor Henry, you cordially embraced the praiseworthy design of
active widowhood; and though rank, wealth, and youth, might
have prompted you to a second marriage, yet you did not incline
your heart to the words of men speaking falsehood for truth ; but
you rose up and stood firmly on your feet, with your loins girded,
so that, in contempt of carnal and worldly allurements, you might
serve the Lord Christ in chastity, and set to other matrons an
example worthy of imitation ; namely, that being provoked by your
continuance to better things, they may maintain their fidelity to
their deceased husbands, and through the heavenly sacrifice, and
by constant works of mercy, seek from the Lord the remission of
their sins. How decent and becoming is it for a Christian woman,

336 JOHN, ABBOT [NO. XIX.
who cannot claim the higher reward of virginity, to study to live
thenceforth chastely and soberly, so that, by God's help, she may
be called, and may really be, the wife of one husband. If I
mistake not, the propriety of maintaining this glorious excellence
of single wedlock is taught us by the single rib taken from the side
of man for the formation of woman.5
" As soon as I knew the pious desires of your heart, I set to
work, and quickly culled some passages from the works of the
Fathers, that wherever you are you may have with you some
veracious documents, which may more fully point out the way in
which a faithful widow ought to walk in righteousness and piety.
Moreover, I added another discourse, on the life and conversation
of virgins, for the instruction of the nuns who are collected in your
monastery. And having found you to be much given to works of
mercy, I did not hesitate to write this ; namely, that, without all
doubt, the proper objects of eleemosynary gifts are not ecclesiastics,
who are already possessed of large property, but widows, orphans,
sick persons, foreigners, and specially those who are truly the poor
of Christ. In doing all this, through all my labours, my value for
you has prevented my feeling it any trouble.
" Be dumb, ye dogs of Scylla ; I shall go on, turning a deaf ear
to the noisy rage of your abuse. I understand that, in your little
cabals (in conventiculis vestris) something like this drops from
your canine jaws — ' While you profess to be a monk, and silence is
the peculiar characteristic of monastic life, what have you to do
with women ? Whence have you such authority, that you should
sit in the seat of the learned, and teach even women with your
written scraps ? ' Be silent, wretched men. You say this because
you are blind leaders of the blind. ' Return, ye transgressors, to
the heart,' 6 and diligently consider the filthy condition in which
you are lying. I wish that your wicked mind may repent, and
may study, in some degree, to imitate the pious works of good
women. Is not this woman worthy to be had in all reverence who
has preferred the love of Christ to riches and honours ? Therefore
it was, that while she was the mistress of kingdoms, she humbled
herself and became the servant of the poor. I say nothing of her
having traversed almost all Italy, most devoutly visiting the relics
of the saints, and offering to them precious gifts, and giving great
alms in the cities and towns, and in all places which she visited to
pay her devotions ; and because the narrow limits of a letter will
not permit me to dwell longer on her praise, I will also pass over

5 Ad legem semel nubendi dirigam. Ipsa origo humani generis
patrocinatur, constans quid Deus ab initio constituerit, in formam
posteritatis recensendum. Nam quum hominem figurasset eique
parem necessariam prospexisset, unam de costis ejus mu'tuatus
unam illi fceminam finxit, &c. — Tertull. Exhort, ad Castit. Cap. v!
6 Is. xlvi. 8. Douay. Redite praevaricatores ad cor. Vulg.

NO. XIX.] OF FESCAMP. 337
the fact, that on her return into France she has, in like manner,
comforted the poor and the churches of God with a liberal hand ;
as it is written, ' She hath dispersed, she hath given to the poor,
her righteousness remaineth for ever.'
" But setting aside these persons, who blow on the earth, and
raise a dust to blind their own eyes, lest they should see themselves,
I return to you, venerable handmaid of Christ, that my discourse,
which I began for your instruction, as if I had been present con
versing with you, may, by the help of God, be carried forward to
the completion of that design. Therefore, though I should have
thought that those little compilations, made according to my poor
ability, might have sufficed for your safety; yet since I understand,
through some friends, that you wish and require that I should also
copy for you what I have published on Divine Contemplation, and
the Love of Christ, and concerning that heavenly Jerusalem which
is the mother of all the faithful, I confess that my heart does
greatly rejoice, and magnifies, in you, God the giver of all good
things. For were it not that, under the leading of Christ, you had
risen to higher things, going from strength to strength, you never
could have had the power to ask such a thing. Who will not
admire to see a soul so fervent, which, still drinking the streams of
sweet waters, ceases not to thirst ? Very foolish and very obsti
nate is he who despises the prayers of such a woman, and does not
accede to her most proper requests. As to myself, revered mother,
here I am quite ready, according to the degree of knowledge which
God has given me, cheerfully and joyfully to fulfil your wishes in
all things. I would He may be a spark of fire within me, which
may add somewhat to my mind, warmed by its influence.
" Receive, therefore, 0 excellent soul, noble example of holy
widowhood, accept, with a watchful mind, this little work, which
you desired, and which, by the grace of Christ, I have compiled,
which you will find to consist chiefly of sweet words of heavenly
contemplation. These are to be reverently read, and meditated on
with due fear, lest coming to them in a cold and undevout frame of
mind, you be judged guilty of rashness. From this you will
understand, that this book is chiefly intended for the use of those
who do not suffer their minds to be darkened with carnal desires
and worldly lusts ; and when these things are read with tears and
great devotion, then the meek reader tastes, with the palate of his
heart, the inward sweetness which is hid in them. If it be thus, or
rather, since it is thus, let not the proud and fastidious mind
presume to meddle with the secret and sublime words of the divine
oracles, lest it fall into error ; for with blind eyes it cannot behold
the light. Hence it comes that many rush, through heresy, into
the abyss of eternal damnation, drawing down others along with
them to death ; because the mysteries of holy scripture, which are
rooted in heaven, are not fully intelligible even to any of the
perfect in this world. Only they who, being wise with the wisdom
of God, bring forth the fruit of profound humility, understand so

338 JOHN, ABBOT [NO. XIX.
much as the Holy Spirit condescends to reveal to them. Therefore
read these things often, and especially when you feel your mind to
be under the influence of heavenly desire ; for right it is that you,
whose practice in active life is so good, should take the wings of
contemplation, and, soaring upwards, should drink of the fountain
of celestial sweetness, saying with the prophet. ' With thee is the
fountain of life, and in thy light we shall see light : my soul hath
thirsted for God, the living fountain. Lord, I have loved the
beauty of thy house, and the place of the habitation of thy glory: '
and, what we find in the song of love, where the soul which loves
God only addresses Christ her beloved, saying, ' Thy name is as
ointment poured forth ; therefore do the virgins love thee. Draw
me, we will run after thee. (i. 3.) My beloved is mine, and I am
his : he feedeth among the lilies. Until the day break, and the
shadows flee away.' (ii. 16).
""With regard to this matter, however, it must be known, that
that chief and unchangeable being, who is God, can by no means
be seen by mortal eyes in this land of the dying, nor has been ever
seen by any mortal, since the time when our first parent was driven
out from the beauty of paradise into this state of trouble. Hence
it is that the contemplative life begins here ; but it is perfected
only there, where God is seen face to face. For the meek and
simple mind, when it is raised into contemplation, and, overcoming
the hindrances of the flesh, penetrates into the things of heaven, is
not permitted to remain long thus above itself, but is drawn back
to inferior things by the burthen of the flesh. Yet, though it is
quickly recalled to itself, struck back by the infinite splendour of
the heavenly light, still it gains great strength even from this one
thing — that it is enabled to obtain some foretaste of the divine
sweetness ; for being presently fired with great love, and being
raised by it, it perceives the impossibility of seeing what it ardently
loves, yet could not so ardently love if it did not catch some glimpse
of it. There are some persons, less instructed, who conceive of God
as like an image, because, being unhappily scattered abroad amidst
the things of the world, they are incapable of the intellectual con
templation of that wonderful and unbounded light. To such, what
is the eye of contemplation but a snare of perdition ? Persons of
this description are to be warned that they content themselves with
the exercises of active life, without presuming to ascend the mount
of contemplation ; for as it is written, ' The carnal mind receiveth
not the things of the Spirit of God ; ' and, ' to be carnally minded,
is death.' For the human mind, unless it repels the desire of
external things, does not penetrate those which are internal ;
because the more clearly it discerns invisible things, the more
perfectly it despises the things which are seen. Therefore, although
God is in his nature invisible and incomprehensible, yet by the
purified and holy mind, which seeks only the things that are above,
he is, even here, seen without sight, heard without sound, received
without motion, touched though immaterial, present though not
circumscribed by place.

NO. XIX.J OF FESCAMP. 339
" Having premised these necessary things, I beseech you, dear
lady, that if you find any persons who wish to have this book, you
would admonish them to copy it carefully, and to read it over
several times after they have written it, so that they may not suffer
anything to be added, omitted, or altered. We say this because of
the carelessness of book-writers, who not only corrupt the truth, but
add lie to lie. May God be with you, and may his hand strengthen
you, that, becoming like the living creature with wings and eyes,
you may every day make progress in both modes of life — now with
Martha actively serving Christ in his members, now with Mary
sitting in contemplation at the feet of the Lord, and intently listen
ing to the words of his mouth — so that, by well doing and pure
contemplation, you may arrive at that beatific vision in which the
Son speaketh openly of the Father. And to this, for his mercy
and his goodness sake, may he vouchsafe to lead his servants and
his handmaids — He who descended to these things that are below,
that we might rise to those which are above, who stooped that he
might raise us, who became weak that he might make us strong,
who took our life that he might give us his — for He, the only
begotten, is co-eternal with the Father, who liveth and reigneth
with him in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God throughout all ages.
Amen. " I, John, the lowest of the servants of Christ, and the brethren
who are with me, salute you in Christ ; O blessed lady, pious
mother of the poor, and noble ornament of widowhood, farewell.
" May the Omnipotent Trinity ever keep you in its will." 7
Digression ? this is anything in the world but a
digression. I am .telling a plain story in the most
straightforward way imaginable. To be sure, the
story, as far as I have yet got, might have been
comprised in three words, " Udalricus monachus
Cluniacensis ; " or, I might have said, " At Clugni
there was a monk named TJlric '' — for this is, I
admit, all the progress which we have yet made in
the story, without having even explained how he
came there; but then my readers would have slipped
over it at once; and, as it respects too many, I
might quite as well have been more brief still, and
(giving letters instead of words to represent what
were, in fact, unknown quantities) I might have
.said, " at x there was a y named 2." This would

7 Mab. ubi sup. p. 133.

340 ULEIC, A MONK [NO. XIX.
have conveyed to many persons, whose knowledge
on other subjects is accurate and extensive, nearly
as much information as to the where, the what, and
the who. Yet it is most particularly this which I
wish to be understood; and, therefore, as to the
first, I have very slightly traced Clugni up to the
time in question ; I have endeavoured, by the way,
to give some idea of what it was to be a monk there,
and now we are arrived at the who — who was Ulric?
and how can I answer the question without saying
something of his royal patroness ? and what would
be the use of only saying that Ulric was the favourite
of the Empress Agnes, when not one man in a
hundred has taken the pains to satisfy himself of
her existence, and fewer still have formed any
opinion whether she was likely to patronize a young
courtier for his virtues or for his vices ? And how
could I speak of her without saying something about
the little abbot, even supposing that I had no wish
to bring him in, or to give the reader an incidental
peep at the mysticism (I use the word with reverence)
of the dark ages ? — a subject which seems to me
most interesting and instructive, of which I have
hitherto said nothing, and of which I believe little,
if anything, ever has been said in our language.
But, without any such collateral view, it was quite
necessary to mention the little Abbot John ; and,
indeed, I had it in my mind to have said something
about his correspondence with William the Con
queror; only then I thought some persons would
really charge me with digression — especially those
for whose sake I thought of doing it, and who might
not be aware that I only went out of my way in
order to hook the matter over one of the very few
pegs which the minds of people in general present,
on which to hang the occurrences of the dark ages.
So I say nothing of it ; but go straight on with
Ulric, who was (though not yet) a monk of Clugni.
I wish I knew more of his uncle, who was Bishop of
Frisingen; but all that I find is, that (led, I pre-

NO. XIX.] OF CLUGNI. 341
sume, by the disposition of the youth which has been
described) he invited him to come to him, ordained
him, and at length made him Prior of the Canons.
While he held this station, he was accompanying the
Emperor on a journey into Lombardy, with a view
to proceed into Italy, when he learned that the body
of which he was a member was in great distress,
through a famine which extended over several dis
tricts. He obtained reluctant permission from the
Emperor, and returned in haste, mortgaged his
hereditary possessions, and relieved the distress of
others beside his own brethren. After this, he deter
mined on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. " The anxieties
and labours which he underwent by the way," says
his biographer, " namely, in the badness of the roads,
by perils from men and by sea, I pass over briefly,
lest the prolixity of my narrative should tire the
reader. But this I ought by no means to omit, that
every day, before he mounted his horse, he repeated
the Psalms." On his return he found that his uncle
was dead, and that the see of Frisingen, as well as
his own priorate, was filled by a successor. He had,
as has been already stated, mortgaged his private
property, and he was therefore somewhat at a loss
for a maintenance. The prior of the canons of
Batisbon, however, who was his relation, kindly took
him in until he could redeem his estates. Having
at length effected this, his first idea was to found a
monastery; but the circumstances of the times, and
the irreligion of the bishops (says his monkish
biographer), prevented his fulfilling that design, and
he therefore determined to devote himself, and all
that he had, to the Lord, and to embrace the
monastic life. He began, therefore, to distribute
his goods to the poor, among whom he very justly
numbered the nuns of a convent near Batisbon,
whose finances were so low that they were obliged
to be content with an allowance of half a pound of
bread (part white and part black) per day. He gave
them land enough to provide them with a pound of

342 ULEIC, A MONK [NO. XIX.
white bread per day, and also to enable them to
maintain seven poor persons. Having thus disposed
of all his property, except so much as was necessary
for the effecting his purpose, he resolved to enter
into a monastery. He was unwilling to go alone,
and persuaded Gerald, a scholar of Batisbon, to
accompany him ; and having formed this resolution,
they first made a pilgrimage to Borne, and then,
having heard a high character of Clugni (cujus
religionem longe lateque prsedicari auclierant), they
determined to go thither. There they were received
by the Abbot Hugo, who, as I have already said,
had obtained that office in the year 1049.
We may dismiss Gerald at once by saying that he
afterwards became Bishop of Ostia. As to Ulric, I
need not repeat all that his biographer tells us of his
mild, humble, and affectionate disposition ; he loved,
and was beloved by, all, but especially showed his
constant care and kindness to the novices. Con
sidering them as persons peculiarly in want of
instruction and consolation, he sent for them and
taught them with assiduous benevolence. Indeed,
he seems to have had not only a talent, but a taste,
for this sort of teaching, which led him into a prac
tice somewhat out of the common way, and which
gave offence to some of his brethren. He used to
write " sweet and salubrious " letters of advice, and
to send them privately to abbots and monks, con
firming the moral and religious, and recalling those
who had erred from the way of truth. Some of the
monks made a formal complaint, but the " abbas
discretissimus " seems to have thought that there
was no great harm in the matter; and, in fact, the
next thing of which we read shows that his con
fidence in Ulric was undiminished — perhaps in
creased — by what transpired during the inquiry.
Ulric was sent to take the superintendence of a
nunnery which the abbot had founded at Marcigni.
While there, owing to his long vigils and his con
tinual writing (per scribendi laborem continuum),

NO. XIX.] OF CLUGNI. 343
he suffered from pain in his head. To relieve this,
he washed his head with wormwood, and on one
occasion he managed so to get a fragment into his
eye that he could not get it out. Having suffered
from it for six months, he returned to Clugni, and
begged leave to resign his charge.
Shortly after this, Lutold, the rich and powerful
lord of the castle of Bumelingen, and his wife, having
no children, signified their intention of devoting their
property to the service of God, and offered it on the
altar of St. Beter and St. Paul, at Clugni. On his
request that some of the brethren might be sent with
him to found a monastery, Ulric and another were
deputed for that purpose. They chose a site ; but,
winter coming on, they were obliged to defer the
building until the spring; and in the meantime,
declining the society of the laymen among whom
they were cast, they retired to a cave about two
miles off, where they proposed to live in solitude.
In this they were disappointed ; for Ulric having
preached to some few strangers who came to look
at them from curiosity, the numbers increased, and
he was soon surrounded by multitudes of the rude
natives, Christians only in name, to whom he had an
opportunity of making known the gospel.
After the winter, they set to work, and were cor
dially assisted by all the neighbourhood, except two
priests, who were afraid that they should lose their
fees by the erection of this monastery, and who
therefore did all they could to set the people against
the monks and their design. One of these priests
told his congregation in the course of a sermon, that
a certain poisonous herb was springing up in that
part of the country, which, if it came to bear fruit,
would fill the whole land with its poison. The simple
people were horror-struck, and inquired if there were
no marks by which they might distinguish, and no
means by which they might eradicate, such a perilous
plant ; and the preacher enlightened them by saying,
" Those monks coming into these parts from the

344 ULEIC, A MONK [NO. XIX.
monastery of Clugni, full of deceit, avarice, and
envy, expose you to great danger ; for if they get
a footing among you, and cause the hurtful seeds of
their preaching to grow up in your hearts, whatever
good work may have been wrought in you by my
care will soon be destroyed, and you will bring forth
no fruit of virtue. Having, therefore, prayed to
God that his divine goodness would vouchsafe to
remove them from you, earnestly pray also that
their deceitful doctrine and feigned sanctity may
not deceive your senses, and (which God forbid)
draw you aside from the way of salvation." Some
of his hearers implicitly followed his directions, and
forthwith began to pray, but tli6 more prudent hesi
tated. Soon after, the priest was benighted, and
fairly lost his way, and saw no alternative but to ask
for shelter from the monks, who were perfectly
aware of his feelings and practices against them.
Between hope and fear, he resolved to try the ex
periment. Ulric went out to meet him, received
him cheerfully, and, according to monastic rule, first
led him to prayers, then embraced him, and gave
him the kiss of peace, talked kindly with him, and
showed him all hospitality. The next day, after
having been kindly dismissed, the priest's conscience
smote him, and on the succeeding Sunday he frankly
told his congregation that he had been to blame in
abusing the monks, and instead of telling them as
before, to pray against Ulric and his companion, he
besought them to pray that God would pardon the
sin which he had committed in defaming them.
Sincere friendship ensued, and the priest and his
parishioners set to work with all their heart to help
the monks build the monastery.
I mention these circumstances because they throw
light on our general subject; but it would be tedious
to particularize all that Ulric did in this way. He
was evidently considered a peculiarly fit person to
be employed in founding cells and monasteries, and
bringing them into order, being, as his biographer

NO. XIX.] OF CLUGNI. 345
says, " in omni norma coenobialis vita? ad unguem
edoctus.'' Yet, with all his engagement in active
business, Ulric was a reading, thinking, praying
man ; and his biographer recounts the circle of his
principal employments as prayer, reading, teaching,
copying, and composing. It is enough here to say,
that he founded the monastery of La Celle, and
presided over it from its foundation until his death.
He had long lost the sight of one eye, and two years
before his death he became totally blind. During
that period he devoted himself, with less avocation,
to prayer, psalmody, and listening to sacred read
ing; and he died, at an advanced age, in the year
1093. Ulric was a monk of Clugni — that is all which I
wish the reader to take with him, and we will at
once change the scene for the Black Forest, in the
diocese of Spier. At the same time that Hugo was
Abbot of Clugni, and was extending its fame and
dependencies by the ministry of Ulric, the monastery
of Hirschau was governed by the Abbot William.
He was a Bavarian by birth, and born of honest
parents, who offered him in his childhood at the
monastery of St. Emmeram, in Batisbon, where he
was educated, and made great proficiency both in
sacred and profane learning — tam in divinis scrip -
turis, quam in saeculari philosophia doctissimus
evasit. " No one," adds Trithemius, the historian
of his monastery, " ever saw him idle, no one
engaged in frivolous pursuits ; he was always
devoted to prayer and reading, or some manual
occupation which his obedience required. He
became very learned in all sorts of knowledge, and
in a short time made such progress in what are
called the liberal arts, that he got beyond his teachers.
In philosophy he became a most acute disputant ; in
music he was unusually learned, and composed many
and various chants in honour of the saints. How
skilful he was in astronomy, mathematics, and
arithmetic, his works testify : on these subjects he

346 WILLIAM, ABBOT [NO. XIX.
bestowed much pains." 8 I need not add to this all
that we are told of his virtues as an abbot, or of his
fame, honour, and extended influence.
Still less need I recount the miracles which he is
said to have performed, or even notice any but one,
which Trithemius himself, though he records the
others, declares to be the greatest. Indeed, I see
no reason to believe that the abbot ever pretended
to any such power as some of his admirers seem to
have supposed that he must have possessed ; but
Trithemius, after mentioning some wonderful things
ascribed to him, while for the sake of brevity he
omitted others, adds — "But of all his miracles I
consider this to have been the greatest — that, in the
midst of a perverse nation, he shone forth as a most
excellent man; and in so dangerous a time of discord
between the church and the state, he maintained an
unspotted course in the paths of righteousness."
He goes on to say that the Abbot William restored
the order of St. Benedict, which had almost fallen
into ruin in Germany ; and that he was, either by
himself or his agents, the means of founding eight
monasteries, and restoring more than an hundred ;
so that, next to the reformation wrought by the
foundation and influence of Clugni, his work of
reform was the most important which was to be
found in the annals of his order. The monks of his
own monastery (whom, notwithstanding that he was
continually sending them out to the monasteries
which he founded or restored, he contrived to keep
up to the number of an hundred and fifty) "were
perpetually employed, either in the performance of
divine service, or in prayer, meditation, and sacred
reading. Those who appeared less fit to be employed
in sacred things were appointed to perform such
manual labours as were necessary, so that none of
their time might pass in idleness. The holy father,

8 Chron. Hirsaug. Tom. I. p. 221, sub an. 1070.

NO. XIX. J OF HIRSCHAU. 347
knowing, moreover, what he had learned by laudable
experience, that sacred reading is the necessary food
of the mind, made twelve of his monks very excellent
writers, to whom he committed the office of trans
cribing the holy scriptures and the treatises of the
fathers. Beside these, there were an indefinite
number of other scribes, who wrought with equal
diligence in the transcription of other books. Over
them was a monk well versed in all kinds of know
ledge, whose business it was to appoint some good
work as a task for each, and to correct the mistakes
of those who wrote negligently. In the course of
time" [for William was abbot two and twenty
years] "the monks wrote a great many volumes;
but a very small part remained at Hirschau ; for the
holy father, who was always more anxious to win
and to profit souls than about all things else in the
world, whenever he sent forth any of the monks to
other monasteries to reform them, cheerfully, and of
his own free will, gave them books, and whatever
else they thought necessary ; and forasmuch as the
monasteries which he reformed were many, a very
small part of the great multitude of books which he
caused to be transcribed remained at Hirschau. Oh,
every way praiseworthy man, who preferred souls
redeemed by the blood of Christ to the advantage
of transitory gain, and consulted the benefit of
others instead of seeking the perishable riches of the
world ! Truly this is a virtue to be found in few —
that abbots should strip their own monasteries,
either of ornaments or books, to supply the wants of
others." 9
The Abbot William himself may now tell that
part of his history, for the sake of which I have
introduced him : —
" After that I, brother William, had been called, by the
providence of God and the election of the brethren of Hirschau,

Trith. ubi sup. 227.

348 WILLIAM, ABBOT [NO. XIX.
to the government of that place, I appointed for them, in the
first instance, those customs of monastic life which I had learned
from my childhood in the monastery of St. Emmeram ; but as,
through the gradual negligence of monastic rigour which
succeeded, there seemed to be in many things a degeneracy from
that high tone of life and conversation which it imparts, I
resolved that, wherever, either by seeing or hearing, or by read
ing sacred books, I should meet with things tending to improve
the conversation of the brethren, I would collect them together,
as living stones for the erection of a spiritual building. And
while I commended this my resolution with earnest and constant
prayer to Him ' who fulfils the desire of his faithful in good
things,'1 through the wonderful and merciful providence of
God, that venerable man, worthy to be had in remembrance
by. all good men, Bernard, Abbot of Marseilles, having
executed his office as apostolical legate, came to us, and,
owing to the difficulty of prosecuting his journey as he
desired, stayed with us nearly a year. After he had particularly
examined the mode of life pursued by our monks, and the state
of our monastery, he one day, in the course of conversation on
other matters relating to a spiritual life, thus addressed me : —
' I see, my dearest brother, that this place is remarkably
adapted to monastic life, and the monks appear to be animated
with a most ardent desire to lead a life of holiness and
righteousness ; but I should like to know by whom you have
been chiefly guided as to your regulations, and from what
monastery in particular you have derived those customs which
are traditional ? ' I replied : — ' It is our desire, as far as we
can, to imitate all the religious men of our order ; but if, in any
point where we have erred, you will condescend to bring us
back into the right way, you may rest assured that we shall be
most prompt to follow wherever your good counsel may lead us.'
— ' Tour manner of life,' said he, ' as far as my poor judgment
goes, seems to be such as must be acceptable to God, and
admirable in the eyes of all wise men; but even if it were
more glorious, and (if I may so speak) were shining forth with
apostolic signs and powers, yet, to those who are simply looking
for the perfection of monastic life, it would be rendered more
graceful and acceptable if it were assimilated to regularly
constituted monasteries in dress, tonsure, and other customs.
And, if you ask my opinion, among all the monasteries of
Cisalpine Gaul I should most particularly recommend you to
select Clugni, where, both by the authority of the most perfect
monks, and the lapse of a great length of time, the monastic
life has grown up to such a degree of strength and splendour,
that if there are still any traces of holiness to be seen in other

1 Qui replet in bonis desiderium fidelium suorum. — Vulg.
Ps. cii. 5.

NO. XIX.] OF HIESCHAU. 349
monasteries, there can be no doubt that these little streams
have flowed from thence as from a living and inexhaustible
spring.' In these and similar admonitions he was, as we say,
spurring the free horse ; and having finished the diplomatic
business for which he had come, he returned home. By the
way, he visited Clugni, and most particularly commended us to
the abbot, so as to predispose him to show us all kindness, in
case we should apply to him. About the same time, Ulric, a
senior monk of Clugni, who was, through the providence of
God, sent into Germany on some business relating to his
monastery, stayed some time with ns ; and as we had formerly
been on the most intimate terms, and he had had long
experience in the discipline of Clugni, I asked him to write out
their customs for our benefit. He consented, promised, and,
according to his promise, he wrote two books concerning those
customs for us. Afterwards, considering that many things
were wanting in those books for a full knowledge of the customs,
I first sent two of our monks, then two more, and afterwards a
third couple, to Clugni, who so thoroughly investigated all the
most obscure things of that order, that their teachers, in whose
hearing they recited what they had written on the customs,
affirmed that there had never been any scholars in that spiritual
school who had more fully or more truly understood the nature
of their institution." 2

2 Mab. Anal. p. 154.

350

No. XX.
" The abbots took the scriptures from their monks, lest some
should ever bark against the abbots' living, and set up such
long service and singing, to weary them withal, that they
should have no leisure to read in the scripture but with their
lips, and made them good cheer to fill their bellies, and to stop
their mouths." — Tyndale's Pbactice of Prelates.
When Ulric (who, the reader may recollect, was a
monk of Clugni) had written his book, he sent it to
the Abbot William, at whose request, and for whose
benefit, he had composed it. With it he sent a
letter, some part of which is so much to our purpose
that I must make an extract : —
" To the most reverend lord, and most pious father, William,
Abbot of Hirschau, and to the holy company of monks under
his government, brother Ulric, a monk, such as he is, wishes
health in the Lord, and his most speedy blessing here and here
after. " The daily remembrance of yourself, and of your monastery,
dearest father, has really become so habitual to me that now,
through the mere force of habit, as well as of affection, it would
be impossible for any day to pass over without it. Sometimes,
too, I have the very agreeable and grateful recollection of your
promise that you would be on your guard against the disposi
tion of some secular persons who, caring very little for aught
but the things of this world, when they have got a house, as I
may say, full of sons and daughters — or if any of their children
should be halt, or maimed, or deaf, or blind., or deformed, or
leprous, or with anything about him that may render him less
acceptable to the world, they are wonderfully anxious to devote
him to the service of God, and make a monk of him ; though it
is obviously not for God's sake, but only that they may rid
themselves of the burden of educating and maintaining such
children, or be able to do more for their others. To say
nothing, therefore, of those who do not want bodily health and
sound limbs, what evils have we known to arise from those who
can only be called half-men, or, at least, only half-alive ?
Were it expedient, it would be easy to name one who was
induced to adopt the habit of sanctity by no other holiness

NO. XX.] ULEIC ON THE CUSTOMS OF CLUGNI. 351
than the reproach of scurvy ; and another who, had it not been
that his foot [something wanting in the manuscript], both of
whom, as you can testify, set no very good example. How
much less, then, can we expect from those who are in good
health, wherever they are collected together in such number,
and with such influence, that the regulation of the monastery
is in their hands ? Truly, everybody may know what sort of
life and conversation, and what degree of regular discipline, is
maintained, if he does but know that monks of this description
are at the head of affairs, In fact, it is a thing obvious and
notorious, that if any strict discipline, in this our spiritual
warfare, is to be maintained among the pollutions of our time,
it can be only where those who have renounced the world, and
¦embraced the monastic life, not in the age of caprice and levity,
or by command of their parents, but of their own free will, at
mature age, and in single obedience to the command of Christ,
are predominant in number and authority.
" Tour prudence duly weighing this — although you were
yourself brought up in a monastery (for it does sometimes
happen that the lily will spring up among thorns), and being
careful for nothing so much as to take all measures of caution,
and such as might conduce to the solid establishment of religion,
you have made a law in your monastery which compels the
secular persons whom I have mentioned to seek some other
nest wherein to deposit their abortive and disinherited young
ones. By God's providence, they will no longer be able to
carry on their practice of laying (as the prophet speaks)
cockatrice eggs, and that which ' shall be hatched into a
basilisk,'1 and giving them in charge to pious men, devoted to
the service of God, perverting their office into that of serving-
maids and nurses. Others may form what opinion they please
on the subject ; but, for my own part, I am certain that you
have struck at the root of that evil by which all those
monasteries have been ruined which have fallen either in
France or Germany. #######
Tou will observe, that, in what I have written, I have repre
sented us as talking together; for, if you recollect, we did
converse a great deal on the subject. And if I should seem to
have added anything, yet even this your mouth and your
tongue hath spoken, for not only my tongue, but my whole self,
is yours ; not to say that Christ had bound us to each other in
the unity of the Spirit, in one body, that is the church — under
one Head, that is Himself. Tet, since personally I am incon
siderable and obscure, barbarous in name, and rude in style, it
has appeared to me that it would be unbecoming to mention
such a name as mine, or to follow the usual course of prefixing
a preface. Nevertheless, as this compilation, such as it is,

1 Is. lix. 5.

352 ULEIC ON THE [NO. XX.
consists of three parts, I have begun each of them with some
sentences which may pass for a sort of prooemium, chiefly on
your account, and that of our other brethren, whose good
example, having seen it, I could not willingly pass over in
silence." Ulric's book is still in existence; 2 and though we
may easily imagine that, when the Abbot William
came to act upon the written descriptions of rites
and ceremonies and customs (minute and even prolix
as those descriptions may appear to us), doubts
would frequently arise, yet the work is one of the
most valuable and useful relics which time has
spared, for giving us an insight into the real nature
of monastic life, in the tenth and eleventh centuries.
Its actual composition appears to have taken place
between the years 1077 and 1093, but it must be
recollected that it was not so much intended as an
account of new inventions, as of long-established
customs. In fact, it consisted of the reminiscences
of an old man, and had reference to regulations most
of which were probably as old as the monastery of
Clugni itself. The brief prooemium prefixed to the
first book is as follows : —
" Our senior lord abbot once sent me into Germany, on what
business it is not worth while to state ; what is to the present
purpose is, that on that occasion I took the opportunity of visit
ing that venerable man the Lord Abbot William, whose
monastery is situated in the Black Forest, in the diocese of
Spier. This father having been known, and very much attached,
to me from a child, received me joyfully ; and when I would
have gone further, like another Cleophas, he made me stay some
days longer with him. During this period, I had a great deal
of discourse with him (indeed, so far as he could manage, it was
continual), respecting the customs of our monastery ; a subject
which he introduced by saying, ' Tour monastery, my dearest
brother, through God's mercy, has acquired a great character
for religion in our parts ; and we are inclined to think that,
among all those of which we have any knowledge, there is none
which can compare with it in rule and discipline. Ton will do
us a great favour if you will make us acquainted with the

2 Dach. Spicil. I. 641.

NO. XX.] CUSTOMS OF CLUGNI. 353
customs and regulations of your predecessors. For even if we
do not ourselves practise them, it may tend to our edification, in
humility, to know that your life and conversation is such as our
infirmity is unable or unwilling to attain to.' I replied, ' I am
going to eat your bread, and it were unreasonable that I should
hesitate to fulfil your wishes. At the same time, one who has
only lived in our monastery as almost a barbarian unto them in
respect of language, and not brought up there from childhood,
cannot be expected to have such a perfect knowledge on all
points as if he had been a native of the country, and educated
in those customs from infancy. Tou must not, therefore, be
surprised if I do not know much, who, during almost the first
thirty years of my life, cared but little for aught but the things
of this world. What I do know, however, I shall willingly tell :
what, then, will you put as your first question ? '"
The first chapter, which is entitled Quomodo
Testamentum legatur utrumque, then begins in the
following manner : —
" Question. — I hear that your lessons in the winter and on
common nights are very long ; will you be pleased to state at
once the manner in which the Old and New Testament is read,
both in summer and winter ?
" Answer. — -To begin with the most ancient of all the books,
that is, the Octateuch — this book, according to general custom,
and as it is in other churches, is appointed to be read in Septua-
gesima. On the Sunday itself there are but short lessons ;
except, that, for the first, the whole of that prologue, Desiderii
mei,3 is read. During the following nights, the lessons are so
much increased, that in one week the whole book of Genesis is
read through in the church only. On Sexagesima, Exodus is
begun, and together with the other books which are read, it also
is read, both in the church and in the refectory ; so that where
the lesson finished one day shall be the beginning of the lesson
for the next ; and the whole Octateuch is read through, if not
before, by the beginning of Lent. Lessons are, however, taken
from it for the Sundays in Lent; but on the other nights during
that period, St. Augustine's exposition of the Psalms, and
especially of the Songs of Degrees, is read; and as the nights
then grow shorter and shorter, so do the lessons. Care must,
however, be taken that they are not so abbreviated as not to
allow sufficient time for the brother who goes the round, both
within and without the choir, with his dark lantern i to see if

3 That is, St. Jerome's.
4 Perhaps it is not quite correct to call it a " dark " lantern ;
but I suppose it to have been a light so enclosed as to shine
only in one direction, or through a single aperture, so that it
A A

354 CUSTOMS OF CLUGNI. [NO. XX.
anyone has gone to sleep during the lesson. In the passion of
our Lord, the prophet Jeremiah is read ; and, as before, the
prologue forms the first lesson. It is, however, read in the
church only, and so as that before Holy Thursday it is finished
as far as Lamentations. In Easter Week, the Acts of the
Apostles are read ; and for one week only ; during which, from
the shortness of the nights, it is impossible that much should
be read. After this, for two weeks, the Revelation, and the
canonical epistles, until Ascension Day. Then the Acts of the
Apostles are again appointed, and are again read (as if they had
not been read before), from the beginning, until Pentecost.
These same books, however, are not the less read regularly and
throughout in the refectory; where, also, are read, in their
appointed seasons, the books of Kings, of Solomon, of Job, of
Tobit, Judith, Esther, Ezra, and the Maccabees, which are all
read only in the refectory, and not at all in the church ; except
the short extracts which may be made from any of them for the
Sundays. From the calends of November, the lessons for
common nights are doubled. The prophet Ezekiel is appointed
to be read in the church only; and is customarily finished before
the feast of St. Martin ; and although we celebrate the octaves
of that feast with singing, and with other solemnities, yet the
prophetical lessons are not changed, nor, indeed, are they on
other octaves, unless they would make twelve lessons. Then
the prophet Daniel and the twelve minor prophets, which would
not hold ont if we did not add, after the last of them, from the
homilies of the blessed Pope Gregory on Ezekiel. In Advent,
Isaiah the prophet is appointed ; and when I inquired about this,
and wished to learn in how many nights it ought, in strictness,
to be read through, I could not learn from anybody, and I can
only say what I recollect to have heard and seen. When I was

might be thrown on any particular object. Ulric's words in this
place are, "qui circam facit cum absconsa;" but in the 8th
chapter of his second book, entitled, " Quomodo laternam ligneam
portare debet ad Noctnrnos," he gives a further account of the
matter. Describing what ought to be the conduct of a monk,
under various circumstances, he says, " If, however, during the
lessons, he who carries round the wooden lantern should come to
him, and, supposing him to be asleep, should throw the light on
his face, let him, if awake, bow reverently. But, if be was
asleep, and the lantern shall have been placed before him, as
soon as he is waked he must take it up, and first examine the
right side of the choir ; and then, returning through the middle,
do the same in the outer choir, and lastly, the left side. Should
he find anyone asleep, he must throw the light in his eyes three
times ; if on the third time he does not wake, he must place the
lantern before him, that when he is awaked he may take it up,
and carry it in like manner."

NO. XX.] MONASTIC PSALMODY. 355
there, it was sometimes read through in six common nights.
After this, follow the Epistles of Pope Leo on the Incarnation
of our Lord ; and other discourses of the holy fathers, and
chiefly of St. Augustine. The epistles are appointed for that
Sunday which first occurs after Innocents' Day, provided that
day is neither the Circumcision nor the Anniversary of the Lord
Odilo. And here, again, I must say as I did of the prophet ;
for different persons think differently ; and I must again state
what I saw. Such an epistle as that to the Romans was read
through in two common nights ; and when one of the monks
who portioned out the lessons had made them shorter, he was
prohibited by our seniors in chapter. If, however, it should
happen that the epistles were finished before Septuagesima,
they read John Chrysostom's Exposition of the Epistle to the
Hebrews. Now, you see, I have in some fashion gone round the
circle of the year ; and let ns, if you please, go on to something
else."

The Abbot William then proceeds to elicit a very
minute, and (to say the truth) prolix, account of the
psalmody at Clugni, which it would be useless to
extract, because that matter may be settled in a
very few words, so far as is necessary for our
purpose. A monk was expected to know the Bsalter
by heart. Martene, in his commentary on the rule
of St. Benedict, quotes and acquiesces in the observa
tion that the words " legantur " and " dicantur "
had been used advisedly, and with a design to
intimate that the lessons were to be read from a
book, but the psalms were to be said or sung by
memory. He also quotes, from several of the ancient
Bules, proofs that means of instruction were used,
which render it probable that this was practicable,
and was required. From Fachomius, " He who will
renounce the world .... must remain a few days
outside the gate, and shall be taught the Lord's
Brayer, and as many psalms as he can learn; " and
again, " There shall be nobody whatever (omnino
nullus) in the monastery who will not learn to read,
and get by heart some part of the scriptures ; at the
least (quod minimum est) the New Testament and
Bsalter." St. Basil, "If anyone who is in good
health shall neglect to offer prayers, and to commit

356 MONASTIC PSALMODY. [»0. XX-
the psalms to memory, making sinful excuses, let
him be separated from the society of the others, or
let him fast for a week." St. Ferreol, " No one who
claims the name of a monk can be allowed to be
ignorant of letters. Moreover, he must know all the
psalms by heart." He gives several instances which
it is not worth while to quote, but one incidental
proof which he produces is curious ; because, though
I really believe that it is to his purpose, yet it might
appear, at first sight, to wear a contrary aspect.
Beferring to the catalogue of the library of the
monastery of St. Biquier, which I have more than
once had occasion to notice, he observes that in this
monastery, where there were at least three hundred
monks and one hundred boys, there were but seven
psalters. As to the number of psalms which were
daily repeated by the monks of Clugni, it may be
sufficient, instead of the more particular account of
Ulric, to give the statement of the biographer of
Abbot Odo, whom I have had repeated occasion to
quote. He tells us that, in his time, they had, in
compassion to infirmity of weak brethren (propter
pusillanimorum animos) abbreviated the daily course
by taking away fourteen psalms from the original
number of a hundred and thirty-eight.5

6 Mab. A. S. vii. 159. I have said something before, and it
would be easy to say a good deal, about repeating the Psalms.
Ulric himself, as I have stated, spent the extremity of his old age
in psalmody, as well as in prayer and hearing sacred reading ; and
I am tempted to add another case of an old monk, not because I
believe the thing to have been at all singular, but through some
circumstances connected with the man. When Hugh, Bishop of
Lincoln, was travelling in France, in or soon after the year 1195,
an old monk at Clairvaux, so well known as St. Bernard's monas
tery, sent to say that, if he could make it convenient to give him a
call, he should be glad to see him, for he had long desired it. I
rather think that they were old friends : but I cannot take upon me
to say. However, the biographer of the Bishop of Lincoln records
that he did go to see this old monk, " who, being of a great age,
had resigned his pastoral charge, only retaining (by the pope's
order) the insignia of his former rank [the author of the article in

NO. XX.] MONASTIC PSALMODY. 357
There is another point referred to in the extract
from Ulric, of which it may be right to take some
notice. He speaks of some books of scripture which
were read in the refectory, as contradistinguished
from others which were read only in divine service.
This custom of reading at meals was not exclusively
monastic, and is too important a feature, in a view
of the literature of the Dark Ages, to be passed over
without some notice. Eginhart tells us that Charle-

o

the Gallia Christiana, iv. 128, to whom I am indebted for the
extract, here inserts, in a parenthesis, that he had learned elsewhere
that this monk had also a reserved pension of thirteen pounds],
devoted himself, in that monastery, to holy contemplation." He
adds, that on the bishop's inquiring what part of the scripture was
the subject of his meditation, he replied, that meditation on the
Psalms had come to engross all his thoughts — " Psalmorum medi-
tatio sola jam penitus totum sibi me vindicavit." I do not know
why he retired to Clairvaux, unless it was from respect to the
memory of St. Bernard, for whom he seems to have had a peculiar
veneration. He was the spokesman when, between forty and fifty
years after the canonization of Bernard, the monks of Clairvaux
wished to have a collect and prayers drawn up by the pope for the
commemoration of the good abbot. Innocent III. granted the
request, and sent the prayers to our old monk, with a letter, in
which he said, " Petisti nainque rogatus a fratribus ut ad honorem
Bernardi primi Clarevallensis Abbatis, quem apostolica sedes sanc
torum adscripserat catalogo venerandum, nos ipsi collectam et alias
orationes ore proprio dictaremus tum propter auctoritatem dictantis,
tum propter stylum dictaminis, cum majori devotione dicendas. Et
ecce sicut potuimus," &c. — Lib. v. Ep. 60. It is not, however, by
anything which he did after he got to Clairvaux that this old monk
is known to the world. Those who have read the very interesting
papers on the history of Thomas a Becket in the British Magazine,
may remember John Bishop of Poitiers, the friend of the Arch
bishop, of John of Salisbury, and Stephen of Tournay. But neither
is it for anything that he did as Bishop of Poitiers that he is
particularly known, nor is it under that name that he has been, and
continues to be, held up to the horror and execration of Christians,
for his malicious fierceness against the true doctrine of Christ, and
as one of the members of antichrist, " who could neither abide that
the scriptures should be declared by any other, nor would they take
the pains to declare them themselves ; " in short, he was the very
man who excommunicated Peter Waldo — that is, if (as is commonly
said) Peter Waldo was excommunicated by Jean aux Bellemains,
Archbishop of Lyons.

358 BEADING AT MEALS. [NO. XX.
magne, while at supper, heard either some diverting
story or a reader. Histories and the deeds of
ancient kings were read to him. He delighted, also,
in the books of St. Augustine, and especially in those
which he entitled " De Civitate Dei." I have before
referred to the custom, in the case of a layman of
less distinction ; 6 and if it existed among the laity,
we shall not wonder to find it among the clergy. As
to bishops, it was directed (I do not mean to say, as
a new thing) by the second Council of Bheims, in
the year 813. The seventeenth canon directs, "That
bishops and abbots shall not allow low buffooneries
to be acted in their presence, but shall have the poor
and needy at their table, and that sacred reading
shall be heard there " 7 — lectio divina ibi personet.
The same thing was enjoined, also, by the Council
of Bavia, held about the year 850, and I think that
the reader who wishes to form an idea of that period
will not be displeased to see the three first canons
of that council : —
" I. The holy synod has decreed that the domestic and private
life of a bishop ought to be above all scandal and suspicion, so that
we may (according to the apostle) provide things honest, not only
before God, but before all men. It is meet, therefore, that in the
chamber of ,the bishop, and for all more private service, priests and
clerks of sound judgment should be in attendance; who, while their
bishop is engaged in watching, praying, and searching the scrip
tures, may constantly wait on him, and be witnesses, imitators, and
(to the glory of God) setters forth, of his holy conversation.
" II. We decree that bishops shall perform mass, not only on
Sundays, and on the principal festivals, but that, when possible,
they shall attend the daily sacrifice. Nor shall they think it
beneath them to offer private prayers, first for themselves, then for
their brethren of the priesthood, for kings, for all the rulers of the
church of God, for those who have particularly commended them
selves to their prayers, and especially for the poor ; and to offer the
sacrifice of the altar (hostias offerre) to God with that pious com
punction, and deep feeling of holy devotion, which belongs to more
private ministration, that the priest himself may become a living
offering, and a sacrifice to God of a broken spirit.

6 See p. 319. 7 Cone. vii. 1256.

N0- XX.] READING AT MEALS. 359
" III. It is our pleasure that a bishop should be content with
moderate entertainments, and should not urge his guests to eat and
drink ; but should rather at all times show himself a pattern of
sobriety. At his table let there be no indecent subjects of discourse ;
and let no ridiculous exhibitions, no nonsense of silly stories, no
foolish talking of the unwise, no buffoon tricks, be admitted. Let
the stranger, the poor, the infirm, be there, who, blessing Christ,
may receive a blessing from the sacerdotal table. Let there be
sacred reading ; let viva voce exhortation follow, that the guests
may rejoice in having been refreshed, not only with temporal food,
but with the nourishment of spiritual discourse, that God may be
glorified in all things through Jesus Christ our Lord." 8
With regard to monks, however, — at least the
monks of the order of St. Benedict, of whom we are
speaking,9 — it was a part of their rule which they
were not at liberty to dispense with. The thirty-
seventh chapter, " De Hebdomadario Lectore," des
cribes the manner in which the reader for the week
should perform his office, expressly requires that
there should be reading at all their meals, and
directs that the reader's voice, and his only, should
be heard on such occasions, unless the abbot, or
other president authority, should choose to offer any
brief remark for general edification. It also orders
that the brethren shall not read in turn, but such
only as may edify the hearers.
Hitherto I have spoken only of what may be
termed public and, with some modifications according
to time and place, general means, afforded to the
inmates of monasteries for obtaining some knowledge
of the Word of God. I have said nothing of the
means or encouragements for private study, but
have simply referred to such as were used in the
community for the benefit of all. Will it be seriously

8 Cone. viii. 61.
9 For brevity's sake, I say nothing here of canons, or nuns, or of
the various other rules beside that of St. Benedict. If .the reader
wishes to see how general the custom was, and how frequently the
injunction was reiterated, let him look at the " Codex Regularum,"
or those parts to which Martene refers in his comment on this
chapter of the rule of St. Benedict.

360 BEADING AT MEALS. [NO. XX.
contended that these men were peculiarly ignorant
' of the scriptures ? — that special means were taken to
prevent them from knowing the revealed will of
God? "Yes," replies the zealous anti-papist, "but
that was all a trick of the pope — the abbots actually
set them to this continual reading of the Bible with
their lips, to prevent their having leisure to read it
in any other way."
Well, that was certainly a very deep trick of the
pope ; but I expect to show, by a distinct species of
evidence, that it did not succeed with all the poor
simple monks on whom he tried it.

361

No. XXI.
" It may be proper just to mention Peter, abbot of Clugny, sur-
named the Venerable. That so ignorant and so trifling a writer
should have been honoured with a title so magnificent, is one of
the strongest marks of the low state of religious knowledge in
general at that time." — Milner.
It may be proper; — but really, when I sent the
preceding paper to the press, I had no idea of saying
anything about the abbot Beter. On the contrary,
having been led to say so much more than I at first
intended about Clugni, I resolved to get away from
that subject, for the present, at least, fearing that
my readers would be tired of the very name.
I hope, indeed, that they are aware of my expecta
tion that they may find matter of argument in
extracts and anecdotes not less easily, and perhaps
more pleasantly, than in systematic arrangements of
rules and customs ; yet, for all that, I resolved to be
somewhat more methodical in offering a few remarks
on what may be called the private reading of the
monks, as distinguished from the public reading in
the church and refectory. I did not think this
necessary in order to rebut the suggestion contained
in the motto of the preceding paper, that the monks
were kept reading the Bible over and over in public,
that they might have no opportunity for reading it
in private, or for meditating on its contents ; but I
thought it was a very important part of our subject,
and that we had fairly arrived at it. In the former
part of this supposition, I am sure that I was right ;
in the latter, it appears that I was wrong, — for, no
sooner had I drawn out a regular skeleton — I. What
books did the monks read ? II. How did they get
them, that is, under what restrictions were they
allowed to have the books of the monastery for

362 PETER, ABBOT OF CLUGNI. [NO. XXI.
private use ? III. What time had they for private
reading ? IY. In what places did they read ?— No
sooner, I say, had I made out this skeleton from
Martene's book, "De Antiquis Monachorum Bitibus,"
and set to work very methodically to treat first of
the first, than I was turned back by my references
to Clugni, and found myself involved in a correspon
dence of Beter the Yenerable. It gave a somewhat
different direction to my thoughts, and led me to
reflect whether (considering the object of these
papers) I ought to say so much about Clugni, with
out one word of that abbot who is perhaps the only
one known, even by name, to many readers of
ecclesiastical history, and who is known to many of
them only by the sneer of a writer who does not
pretend to have seen a line of his works. I say,
" considering the design of these papers," for that
is, very principally, to meet the general deductions
and broad statements which ignorance, infidelity,
prejudice, and party, have all, in their turns, and to
their mutual edification, drawn from mistaken words,
misunderstood or purposely distorted facts, and even
mere falsehoods, for which tiresome investigation
can hardly find a shadow of foundation.
The reader may perhaps remember — though, under
a full persuasion that he does not, I will repeat it —
that the Abbot Hugh, whose history I deserted at
p. 332 to follow that of his monk Ulric, presided
over the monastery of Clugni for sixty years. In
a.d. 1109, he was succeeded by Bontius de Melgueil,
whom it is necessary to mention, not only as a
connecting link, but for other reasons which will
appear. He was the son of the Count of Melgueil,
and is said to have been a godson of Bope Faschal
IL, and to have been educated at Clugni by his
command.1 The same writer who tells us this, goes
1 Odericus Vitalis says — " Consulis Merguliensis filius Begum
et Imperatorum consanguinitate proximus, Paschalis (II.) filiolus,
cujus imperio inter Cluniacenses educatus est." — Hist. L. xii. ap.
Gal. Chr. IV. 1134.

NO. XXI.] PONTIUS, ABBOT OF CLUGNI. 363
on to inform us that Fontius " was, from his child
hood, docile, affable, and steadfast in virtues ; of
middle stature, and pale-faced." Berhaps his noble
birth, his relation to the pope, and these popular
qualities, may account for his having been elected,
at a very early age, to succeed an abbot, during the
latter part of whose very long reign it seems probable
that some degree of laxity had crept into the monas
tery. The fact, however, of his youth at the time of
his election, is certain, and it is just to him to state
it ; though Beter the Yenerable, to whom we are
indebted for most of what we know about Bontius,
allows that for some years, he conducted himself
with considerable moderation and propriety — " satis
modeste ac sobrie."
But somehow (and I really do not know how), he
became involved in disputes with his monks, and, in
process of time (" multis ac diversis casibus vel
causis," Beter says, and it was not necessary, when
he wrote, to explain), he contrived, on some ground
or other, to quarrel with them all. The dissension,
which had been growing for ten years, and which
had been kept as quiet and as private as it could be,
at length broke out into a public rupture. Pontius
hastened to Borne, and begged the pope to allow
him to resign his charge. Calixtus would not hear
of such a thing ; but Pontius was resolute and
prevailed. He then set out for Jerusalem, with a
professed intention (if we may credit a succeeding
pope, under a vow) to spend the remainder of his
days there.2 Calixtus informed the monks of Clugni
of their abbot's resignation, and directed them to
choose another ; on which they selected Hugh, prior
of Marcigni, a nunnery in the diocese of Autun,
already mentioned in the history of Ulric.3 He held
the office only a few months ; and on his death, a
large assembly, consisting of several bishops and

2 Honorins says — " Se perpetuo Jerosolymis victurum voto ad-
strinxerat." — Gal. Chr. I. 1136.
3 See p. 342.

364 PETER THE VENERABLE, [NO. XXI.
abbots, and a great multitude of monks (multus
monachorum populus) chose Petrus Mauriciusde
Monte-Buxerio, or Pierre Maurice de Montboissier,
or, as he has since been generally and justly called,
Peter the Yenerable, to succeed him.
He was of a noble family in Auvergne, and was
one of several brothers who filled important stations
in the church. Heraclius was archbishop of Lyons ;
Pontius, abbot of Yezelai ; Jordanus, abbot of La
Chaise-Dieu ; Armannus, prior of Clugni, and after
wards abbot of Manlieu. Peter himself was offered
by his parents, in his childhood, at the priory of
Soucilanges, or Sauxillanges (belonging to Clugni,
and about thirty miles S.E. of Clermont in Auvergne),
and, during the abbacy of Pontius at Clugni, he was
first prior of Yezelai, and then of Domaine, a con
siderable cell, dependent on that monastery, but in
the diocese of Grenoble.4 It was in this character,
and when he was about thirty years of age, that he
attended the election at Clugni, on the 22nd August,
1122; when, as I have already stated, he was chosen
abbot, and received the benediction from the arch
bishop of Besangon on the same day.
It may well be supposed, that a house divided
against itself for ten years had not prospered ; and
Peter found it in a sad state at his accession. In
a document written long after, he says —
" When I was raised to the office, twenty-six years ago, I found
4 " Qualis fuerit infantia, quantaque assiduitas legendi seu
discendi, postea rei probavit eventus. Nam ad tantam scientise
plenitudinem, Dei gratia, in brevi evectus est, quod in ipsa juven-
tutis adolescentia in Viziliacensi monasterio seniorum doctor et
' custos ordinis constitutus est. Quod cum strenue et religiose
tenuisset, et novellam plantationem secundum formam religionis
sacri eloquii imbre ad plenum irrigasset, promotus est in Priorem
de Domina, in quo non est oblitus scientiam et disciplinam, sed
magis et magis in Deum proficiens, in annis juvenilibus assidue
meditabatur, quod postea in senectute devotus impleret. Lectioni
et orationi vacabat, et ita sapientise splendore fulgebat, ut amabilis
omnibus videretur. Suavis eloquio, decorus aspectu, sermone admi-
rabilis, facundia insuperabilis, benignitate singularis, misericordise
visceribus affluens, universis compatiebatur." — Vita, auctore Rudolfo
Mon. ejus Discip. ap. M. <$• D. vi. 1189.

NO. XXI.] ABBOT OF CLUGNI. 365
a large monastery, religious and famous, but very poor ; with great
expenses, and, comparatively speaking, scarcely any revenue what
ever. There were three hundred monks, or more, and the monastery
was not able, from its own resources, to provide for more than one
hundred. A crowd of guests, and always an infinite number of poor."6
By his judicious measures, however, he soon put
things in a train for amendment. Old quarrels
subsided, and Peace sat quietly waiting for Plenty,
when, all at once, with unexpected violence, she was
driven from the place. Pontius, it would seem, got
tired of living at Jerusalem. He returned to Italy,
and set up a little monastery near Bavenna ; but this
did not succeed, or was perhaps only intended as a
temporary residence ; and he soon quitted it, and
returned to France.
" Having at length," says the Abbot Peter, " gained information
that I was from home (for I was absent in Aquitania Secunda, on
the business of Clugni),6 pretending that he would not come to
Clugni, he, nevertheless, by degrees, came nearer and nearer.
Having been joined by some deserters from thence, and being
supported by the arms of the rabble whom he had collected, he
came suddenly to the gates of Clugni. These being forced, and the
venerable old Prior Bernard, and the monks, put to flight in all
directions, he entered the monastery with that mixed multitude of
armed men, even women rushing in along with the rest. Imme
diately on his entrance, he took possession of everything, and those
whom he found there he compelled, by threats and torments, to
swear fidelity to him. Such as refused, he turned out, or subjected
to severe imprisonment. He instantly laid hands on the sacred
things. He seized golden crosses, golden tablets,7 golden candle
sticks, golden censers, and all the other vessels, many in number
and of great weight. He also took the most holy chalices, and did
not spare the gold and silver reliquaries and shrines, containing the
bones of many saints and martyrs. These and the like he melted
down into a vast sum of money, with which he invited the knights
of the neighbourhood, and all the robbers who were greedy of gain,
to the war. Protected by them, he invaded the towns and villages
round the monastery ; and, endeavouring, in a barbarous manner,
to subdue the religious places [that is, the dependent cells and
priories], he laid waste all that he could with fire and sword. He
5 Baluz, Miscel. torn. V. p. 443.
6 This is not a very precise statement, as that district includes
the dioceses of Bordeaux, Agen, Angouleme, Saintonge, Poitiers,
and Perigeux.
7 That is, what we should call the " boards " of books. See what
is said of " excrustation," in No. XIII. p. 237, 238.

366 PETER THE VENERABLE, [NO. XXT.
abstained from no species of warfare ; plunder and slaughter, by
soldiers hired with consecrated gold, raged everywhere.
" In this manner, all the summer, from the commencement of
Lent to the beginning of October, was passed, without any respite,
of even a few days, from these calamities. During this time,
Bernard the prior, already mentioned, and the noble, religious, and
great men, were out of Clugni, wherever they could find places
more secure ; and there they defended themselves, as well as they
could, against the attacks of such enemies. Thus, by the inscrutable,
but just judgment of God, Satan, being loosed for a time, raged in
that holy and most famous house of Clugni ; but, according to the
book of the blessed Job, ' He that made him, made his sword to
approach unto him ; ' 8 and soon put a happy termination to such
great evils.
" The venerable Pope Calixtus, already mentioned, had departed
this life, and had been succeeded by Honorius, who was not his
inferior. Hearing of such disorder in so great a monastery, and
having sent the Lord Cardinal Peter, as his legate a latere, with
whom was joined Hubald, archbishop of Lyons, he condemned
Pontius and all the Pontians (as they were then called) with a
terrible anathema ; but having shortly after appointed a day for
both parties to appear before him, for the hearing and decision of
that important cause, he cited them by his apostolical letters.
" All our side obeyed immediately ; and, among innumerable
priors of monasteries, that one on whose account I insert these
particulars, the venerable Prior Matthew, was present. Pontius,
although against his will, was there also with his party, and was
cited to the trial on the day appointed. As, however, he could not
be a party in any suit, nor be canonically subjected to any judgment,
while excommunicate, he was ordered first to make satisfaction, and,
by so doing, to free himself from the bond with which he had been
legally bound. Messengers were sent by the pope, who, in the
name of him who sent them, ordered him to make satisfaction for
such enormities. This he refused to do ; and affirmed that he
could not be bound by the anathema of any man living. He would
acknowledge that power to belong to St. Peter in heaven, and to
him only. The Lord Pope, being still more incensed by such an
answer, and all the city being in an uproar, there was an universal
¦outcry that he was not only an excommunicate person, but a
schismatic. And because, as has been said, he could not be
admitted to trial until the excommunication was taken off, the Lord
Pope, by his messengers, desired an answer from those who had
come with him, whether they were willing to make the satisfaction
which he had refused ? They immediately replied that they were
prepared to submit to his authority. They all, therefore, entered
the palace barefoot ; and, publicly confessing themselves guilty,
were immediately absolved ; and, being absolved, they were
admitted to trial, and left nothing unsaid that could be said for

8 Job xl. 19.

NO. XXI.] ABBOT OF CLUGNI. 367
themselves, or for him on whose behalf they appeared. On the
other side, the venerable Matthew acted as spokesman for the
party, and went through the whole business with great wisdom.
" The pope having heard both sides, instantly rose ; and, being
accompanied by the whole court of Rome, retired to consider the
matter in private. He stayed a long while ; but, returning with
them all, after some hours, he resumed his seat, and commanded the
bishop of Porto to pronounce the sentence which had been agreed
on. He, as he was directed, pronounced the sentence ; and to give
his very words : — ' The holy Roman and apostolic church,' said he,
' deposes for ever from all ecclesiastical honour and function,
Pontius the usurper, the sacrilegious person, the schismatic, the
excommunicate ; and has restored to the present abbot (from whom
they have been unjustly taken away) Clugni, its monks, and all
things pertaining to the said monastery.' This sentence having
been given, the divided parties were united, and the body of Clugni
being healed, as it were in one moment, this great and protracted
storm of evils was appeased." 9
9 Bib. Clun. 552. I have said that this is Peter's account; and
perhaps we must make some allowance for feeling ; other accounts,
too general to give any satisfaction, lead us to hope that there were
some redeeming qualities about Pontius. At all events, it is quite
to our purpose to give a short extract from the Chronicle of Clugni,
which may tend to show that, if he was not himself as much under
the influence of the Word of God as he should have been, he yet
took some pains to preserve the letter of scripture : — " Albert was
a monk of St. Hugh, worthy of an honoured memory by those who
are fond of copying books, or making them for themselves. For his
glory in that volume [hiatus in MS."] is to be found at the entrance
of the library of Clugni, which he wrote with the help of Peter, the
librarian, also called the rector of the choir, or chanter. For it is
that volume of the Bible, great, wonderful, and precious for the
writing, and the correctness, and also for the binding, adorned with
beryl stones, whose eulogy or commendation is written in the same
volume, in manner following:— 'This book was written by a certain
monk of Clugni, previously of Treves, named Albert, by the order
and at the expense of the Lord Pontius, the venerable abbot.
Peter being also at that time librarian, and providing, according to
his office, all things necessary, with joy and diligence. But the
father of the aforesaid monk, named Andrew, came with him to
Clugni, and both (that is, the father and son), through the Holy
Spirit's assistance and illumination, received the monastic habit
from the holy father Hugh. But the father died long since, at
Clugni. Moreover, the aforesaid monk, associating with himself a
certain religious brother named Opizo, read through this book
twice, with great diligence, that he might improve it on the
authority of other books, and twice he corrected it. Therefore the
brother Albert, a sinner, prostrating himself at the feet of the
seniors of Clugni, humbly entreats that they would obtain from God,

368 ORIGIN OF CITEAUX. [NO. XXI.
Pontius remained at Borne, where he did not long
survive the papal condemnation ; and Beter, return
ing to Clugni, pursued his quiet plans of reform in
peace, until circumstances arose which, in a view of
the dark ages, with reference to ecclesiastical history,
would claim our attention, even if they had not been
the immediate occasion of Beter's being exhibited as
an ignorant person, the respect entertained for whom
is of itself evidence of the irreligion of the age ; but,
to understand it, we must look back a little.
While Peter was a child, a monk, named Bobert,
who was prior of the Benedictine monastery of
Moutier-la-Celle, close to Troyes,1 became abbot of
St. Michael's at Tonnere, in the diocese of Langres.
That this monastery required some reform, there is
reason to believe ; and that Bobert's ideas of disci
pline and monastic austerity were unusually strict,
is certain. He could not manage the monks, who
led him a sad life ; and he was tempted to listen to
the invitation of some recluses in the desert of
Colan, to whom his austerities seem to have recom-

for himself and his father, the pardon of their sins. Amen.' " —
Chron. Clun. ap. Biblioth. Clun. p. 1645.
1 Or perhaps it would be more correct to say, in the suburb of
Troyes. The reader will find most of the places mentioned in this
paper in the little map (or skeleton of a map, or, more properly
still, index to a map) which is annexed. It is copied, as to scale
and the site of places, from the map of France published by the
Society for Promoting Useful Knowledge ; but instead of roads,
rivers, and departments, I have marked the boundaries of dioceses.
These are reduced (without any pretence of minute accuracy) from
the Gallia Christiana ; and from that work, and M. Bonne's map of
France, in the Abbe Grenet's Atlas Portatif, some places are
inserted. Whether Coulanges is the ancient Colan, and Ricey le
Haut, the ancient Haut, I do not pretend to determine ; but it seems
to me so probable, that I have put them in. Perhaps I need not
say that the suffragan sees are united to their metropolitans by a
dotted line. [My principal reason for giving this little sketch was
to furnish a specimen of a sort of map which would, I believe, be
very useful to readers of ecclesiastical history. I cannot help
thinking that anybody who would even reduce and republish the
maps already given in various Sacras would be doing such readers
a very great service.]

l*C WaJJcer **.

NO. XXI.] MONASTERY OF CITEAUX. 371
mended him, and who wished him to come and take
the government of them. The prior of St. Michael's,
however, and some of the elder monks, were unwilling
to lose him ; and, to please them, he agreed to stay
there, and to confine himself to epistolary correspon
dence with the hermits. But it would not do : after
a while, the conduct of the greater part of the monks
(that is, I believe, their insubordination and refusal
to submit to certain strict regulations, for I do not
see any charge of immoral conduct, and in writing
on such a subject it is necessary to say so) drove
him away. Why he did not then go to the hermits,
I do not know ; but, in fact, he returned to the
monastery where he had been brought up, and of
which, as I have said, he had been prior. From
thence he was soon sent to take charge of the
monastery of St. Aigulph, at Provins, which was
dependent on Moutier-la-Celle.
The solitaries of Colan, however, did not choose
that he should escape them so. I do not find that
they said anything to him, but they applied to the
pope, and got an order directed to the abbot of
Moutier-la-Celle, directing him to give up Bobert to
them, on the ground that they had elected him as
their superior ; and in this he appears to have very
cheerfully acquiesced. He accompanied his new
subjects to their desert ; but, finding it to be a very
unhealthy place, he transplanted them to the forest
of Molesme. There they built cells with the branches
of trees, and an oratory, dedicated to the Holy
Trinity, and for some time went on very well. But
it seems that some of their rich neighbours, who
admired their zeal and self-denial, destroyed, or at
least diminished, both those virtues, by the presents
which they heaped upon them; and the monks of
Molesme, when they became comparatively rich,
were as hard to govern as those of Tonnere. At
all events, Bobert could not keep them up to what
he considered the proper standard in ascetic life, and
he fairly ran away from them to some recluses in a

372 ORIGIN OF THE [NO. XXI.
solitude called Haut. These seem to have been
simple, industrious men, who lived by the labour of
their hands, in great harmony, and they considered
Bobert such an acquisition, that they chose him for
their abbot.
But the monks of Molesme were not willing to
part with him now any more than they had been
before ; and having succeeded so well on the former
occasion, they again applied to the pope (and this
time to the bishop of Langres also) to order him
back. Their request was granted, and he returned ;
but there is too much reason to fear that their
anxiety to regain him arose chiefly from secular
motives, and indeed it may be well imagined that
both their character and revenue suffered from its
being known that they had driven _ him away.
Things, therefore, soon became as bad as before.
The greater part of the monks were ungovernable ;
but there were some who felt conscientiously dis
tressed by the consideration that they were not living
in conformity with the rule of their order, which
they daily heard read in their chapter, and which
they had bound themselves to obey. They conferred
among themselves on the best means of remedying
the evil, and relieving their consciences ; but the
matter soon transpired, and the other monks took
the alarm, and opposed them with all their might.
Under these circumstances, they thought it would
be best to retire, and seek for some place where they
might serve God according to their consciences,
without such disturbances. They asked the abbot's
permission; and he not only granted it, but expressed
his willingness to accompany them. In order to do
this with perfect regularity, he took six of them with
him to Lyons, that he might explain the matter to
the archbishop (who was also legate of the Holy
See), and obtain his. sanction. The abbot stated his
wish to institute an exact practice of the rule of St.
Benedict, such as he had found himself unable to
produce at Molesme, which he desired permission to
quit ; and he obtained from the archbishop letters

NO. XXI.] MONASTERY OF CITEAUX. 373
patent, approving his design, and counselling him to
persevere in his holy resolution.2 Beturning to
Molesme, he selected those monks who were most
zealous for exact discipline, and with them, to the
number of twenty, he set out to form a new settle
ment. He fixed (I know not why) on a desert spot
in the diocese of Chalons-sur-Saone, about five
leagues south of Dijon ; and there, on Balm-Sunday,
in the year 1098, being St. Benedict's Day, and the
2nd of March, he and his companions settled down
in that place, and so laid the foundation of that
Monastery and of that Order, from whence were to
issue unnumbered popes, cardinals, and prelates, to
say nothing of more than three thousand affiliated
monasteries. But when Bobert had thus founded what he
named the New Monastery, afterwards called the
monastery of Citeaux, he could not stay there ; and
whether he should be called the first Cistercian
abbot is a point which has been disputed, and in
which writers vary. However, it is certain that,
before he had been long there, he was reclaimed by
his old subjects at Molesme, who made a fresh
application to the pope, and were again successful.
They seem to have felt that there was no living with
him, nor without him ; and they set off to Borne,
where Urban II. was then holding a council. By
great clamour and vehement importunity, as the
pope says, they prevailed on him to restore their
abbot ; and he wrote a letter to the archbishop of
Lyons desiring him to manage the business.3
2 The Archbishop says—" Vos  in nostra prassentia
adstitisse, ac Regulae Beatissimi Benedicti, quam illic hucusque
tepide ac negligenter in eodem monasterio tenueratis, arctius dein-
ceps atque perfectius inhserere velle professos fuisse," &c. — Exord.
c. ii. ap. Nomast. Cister.
3 The pope begins his letter by saying, " Molismensium fratrum
magnum in Concilio clamorem accessimus, abbatis sui reditum
vehementius postulantium. Dicebant enim religionem in suo choro
eversam, seque pro abbatis illius absentia odio apud principes et
ceteros vicinos haberi." — Ep. xx. Cone. x. 444.

374 PROGRESS OF THE [NO. XXI.
Bobert accordingly returned to Molesme, where he
presided during the rest of his life; and Alberic
became abbot of Citeaux. He framed some regula
tions for the government of the monastery, which
are still extant, and which partake of the austere
character which he (as well as Bobert) had
endeavoured to give to monasticism at Molesme.
After he had governed for nine years and a half, he
was, in the year 1109, succeeded by our countryman,
Stephen Harding, who was also one of the original
settlers.4 In fact, they had not gained a single recruit, and
so many of their number had died, during the first
fifteen years from the foundation, that there was
some apprehension that the community would become
extinct, when, all at once, it received an accession of
more than its original number. In 1 113, St. Bernard,
who was then but twenty-two years of age, brought
with him thirty companions, and seems to have had
the power of making men fall in love with that
rigorous and austere mode of life, which, though
hitherto persevered in by its originators, had been
so repulsive to all others. Citeaux revived, — it
flourished, — it sent forth its branches, and before it
was fifty years old it numbered more than five
hundred affiliated abbeys. It is not necessary to
give a detailed account of all and each of them ; but
it would be uncourteous not to name the " quatre
premieres filles." Stephen Harding, who appears to
have had ideas of centralization which would not
have disgraced a more enlightened age, and who
seems almost as if he had anticipated the extensive
increase of the order, published what he denominated
a "Charta Caritatis." It is a brief set of regulations,
4 I do not like to mention him without saying that the great
Bible, in six volumes, which he caused to be written, and which, by
the help of learned Jews, he collated with Hebrew MSS., was at
Citeaux, little more than a hundred years ago, and is, I presume,
still in existence. — See I. Voy. Lit. 221 ; Gal. Chr. iv. 984.

NO. XXI.] MONASTERY OF CITEAUX. 375
chiefly designed to promote uniformity in the under
standing and practice of the rule of St. Benedict in
the Cistercian monasteries, and to guide the mutual
connexion, dependence, and intercourse between
them.5 To the "quatuor primi abbates" of the
order is given the honour of being the visitors of the
chief monastery of Citeaux, and of governing it
during vacancies. These four filiations were, first,
Ferte sur Grone, in 1113; secondly, Pontigny, in
the year following; thirdly, Clairvaux, in 1115; and.
fourthly, in the same year, Morimond.
There is no need to enter into details about it —
no necessity to trace Cistercian history from St.
Michael's at Tonnere to La Trappe,6 in order to
show that the spirit of the order was austere and
ascetic. No doubt it was originally, in its conception
and first spirit, a plan of reform ; and if it was not
meant particularly and pointedly to reflect on Clugni
and its connexions, yet it can hardly be wondered at
.that jealousies arose. I hope that I do them no

5 See Paris, Nomast. Cist. 65.
6 Of course I mean La Trappe in the days of De Ranee, for the
monastery was one of the earliest affiliations of Citeaux. That
reformer had, I believe, no idea of going beyond what he considered
(and, I believe, rightly) as required by the Cistercian order.
Perhaps he mistook in that point in which he differed from Robert.
He desired to reform the Cistercian order, and might have had
better success, if, instead of setting about it under that name, he
had founded a new order, as Robert did. Fuller is not a writer
whom I would quote as an authority about " the several orders of
monks and nuns," but a remark made by him in his attempt " con
fusedly to shovel up these vermin," contains much truth and much
history:—" As mercers, when their old stuffes begin to tire in sale,
refresh them with new names to make them more vendible ; so when
the Benedictines waxed stale in the world, the same order was set
forth in a new edition, corrected and amended, under the names,
first, of Cluniacks — these were Benedictines sifted through a finer
search, with some additionals invented and imposed upon them by
Odo, abbot of Clugni, in Burgundy, who lived, Anno Domini 913.
.... Secondly, Cistercians, so called from one Robert, living in
Cistercium, in Burgundy aforesaid ; he the second time refined the
drossie Benedictines," &c. — Ch. Hist. B. vi. p. 266.

376 CITEAUX [no. XXI.
injustice by the suggestion, — but really I have often
wondered why these monks of Molesme should travel
a distance of, I suppose, at least seventy or eighty
miles, to set themselves down in a swampy thicket,
so bad that, after a short time, they were obliged to
remove a quarter of a league, unless it was that all
that distance brought them almost as much nearer
to Clugni. Surely, whatever nicety of taste they
might have in such matters, they might have been
accommodated with a suitable wilderness nearer
home. If that was really all they wanted, surely
they must have seen " quod petis est hic " inscribed
in characters not to be overlooked or mistaken, on
some part or other of almost every league which they
travelled. I do not dispute, either, that Alberic
might dream that the Yirgin Mary directed that his
monks should wear white garments ; but it leads me
to suspect that he might have been thinking on the
matter when he was awake ; though even then,
perhaps, it was not because the monks of Clugui .
wore black ones. Nor do I take upon me to say
that he was thinking of the fine chandelier, composed
of brass, gold, and silver, which hung from the roof
of the church at Clugni, when he gave special direc
tions that the Cistercians should have none but iron
candlesticks in their churches ; nor, indeed, that be
meant to be personal in the minute directions which
he gave respecting various little matters, wherein
grounds of accusation against the monks of Clugni
were afterwards found ; but it seems impossible not
to believe that there was, from the first, something
like a design on the part of the Cistercians to reform
(not to say rival, or humble) the monks of Clugni.
Be this as it may, jealousies did arise : the
Cistercians murmured that the Cluniacs were lax,
and the Cluniacs hinted that the Cistercians were

7 " Qui locus in Episcopatu Cabilonensi situs, et prae nemoris
spinarumque tunc temporis opacitate accessui hominum insolitus, a
solis feris inhabitabatur." — Exord. c. iii. ap. Nomast. Cister.

NO. XXI.J AND CLUGNI. 377
upstart pharisees; and in the course of a few years
these feelings had become strong, undisguised, and
even noisy. Look for a moment at the real state of
things : — during that period, Bernard, at the age of
four and twenty, in the ardour of youthful zeal, and
in the practice of austerities which he lived to regret
and condemn, had set out in the government of one
of the first offsets of a severe Order, even younger
than himself ; while Bontius, probably not much his
senior, was at the head of a monastery nearly two
hundred years old, where, perhaps, the protracted
abbacy of his predecessor, or the mere lapse of time,
had produced some relaxation, and where, during
his dissensions with his monks, every kind and every
consequence of misrule might naturally be expected.
By the time that Bernard had been ten years at
Clairvaux (that is, in the year 1125, just when Beter
was settling down quietly at Clugni, after the irrup
tion of Pontius), William, Abbot of St. Thierry's,
near Bheims, one of Bernard's dearest and most
intimate friends, and himself a Cluniac, urged hitn
to publish some statement on the subject; letting
people know authentically what he had, and what he
had not, said about it, and what charges the Cister
cians really did mean to bring against their Cluniac
brethren. Bernard accordingly put forth what is
called his Apology, but what is, in fact, a vehement
attack on the monks of Clugni.
That this work contains much important truth
and much fervent eloquence, and that it was
dictated by a true zeal for the glory of God
and the welfare of his church, Bernard's enemies
will scarcely venture to deny; but that it was
vehement beyond the occasion, that his zeal for
God was not merely intemperate, but misguided
(as such intemperate zeal too frequently is)
into something too much like judging another
man's servant, even his friends must admit. The
tone is like that which we expect from a man who
would think it wrong to write in anger, but who

378 CITEAUX [no. XXI.
tells us (and very sincerely) " I am not at all angry,
but I certainly do feel very much hurt." In fact,
this is so apparent, and this tone in an aggresspr,
who might rather have been expected to write with
feelings of quiet self-complacency, is so singular,
that I cannot help noticing a circumstance which, if
it does not entirely excuse, may perhaps account for,
some appearance of personal feeling in the matter.
A young cousin of St. Bernard, named Bobert, for
whom he seems to have had a most tender and
paternal affection, had accompanied or followed him
to Citeaux, during the time that Bontius governed
the abbey of Clugni. This latter monastery claimed
him, on the ground that his parents had promised
(not, St. Bernard contends, offered) him there in his
infancy ; and the prior of Clugni came to Citeaux,
and persuaded the youth to quit the place, and come
to the monastery for which he had been originally
destined. Their claim to him was affirmed by the
pope ; but it was done on an ex- parte statement, if
we may place entire reliance on St. Bernard's
account of the matter, in a letter which he wrote to
his cousin, with the hope of moving him to a volun
tary return. This letter is a singular composition of
wrath and tenderness; of rebuke to the youth, whom
he treats as a prodigal gone to indulge in riotous
living, and of self-reproach for the harsh enforcement
of austerities such as he might have known that a
lad, brought up in the softness of secular life, could
not bear. And as to the prior of Clugni (magnus
quidam prior, ab ipso principe priorum: foris quidem
apparens in vestimentis ovium, intrinsecus autem
lupus rapax) and his monastery, they are treated
with all the bitterness of bereaved affection. But it
was in vain ; as long as Pontius remained abbot of
Clugni, Bobert was not to be regained. When,
however, Beter succeeded him, he gratified his friend
Bernard by restoring his young kinsman, who
expiated, we may hope, a comparatively short
absence by sixty-seven years of submission to the
Cistercian order.

NO. XXI.] AND CLUGNI. 379
That Bernard had forgotten all about this when
he wrote his Apology — that he did not naturally feel
bound to follow up and support the charges which
he had made in that letter — and that he did not
bring to the work some of the feelings which had
been so strongly excited, is more than can be
believed; and, as I have already said, the Apology
is, in fact, a vehement invective. It would exceed
the bounds of this paper even to mention the charges
which he makes ; but, as people in the present day
form the most gross ideas on the least hint of
irregularity in a monastery, I must just say, that he
charges them with nothing which in the common and
gross sense of the term we should call immorality,
nothing more nearly approaching to it than such a
degree of luxury in eating and drinking, and dress,
and in the ornament of their buildings, as he con
sidered inconsistent with strict monastic life. It is
as Benedictine monks, it is for their Benedictine
irregularities, and for departures from the Bule
which they professed (that is, however, we must
recollect, for perjury), that Bernard attacks them.
In fact, Milner, or more properly the writer from
whom he borrowed, is in some sort a voucher for
this ; for, from Peter's reply, he characterizes the
matters in dispute as "frivolous punctilios and
insignificant ceremonies." His testimony as to the
merits of the case may be admitted, though he
happened to mistake between the plaintiff and
defendant ; for it is obvious that Bernard, if either,
was the trifler, and that Peter was only replying to
his charges ; that Bernard was the person insisting
on punctilios, and that Peter was in some cases
repelling charges of perjury, and in others asserting
his Christian liberty, and claiming a right to modify
such small matters according to his discretion. This
is, I say, obvious ; and if it should not immediately
appear so to any reader, I hope to make it plain ;
for the contention and correspondence of two such
persons, and so situated, as Bernard and Peter, is
quite worthy of further discussion.

380 milnek's account of [no. xxi.
In the meantime, it may be right to explain
how the historian from whom I have borrowed my
motto came to entertain the opinion which is there
expressed. He was too much in the habit of forming
his opinion of authors from the brief accounts and
extracts which he found in the English translation
of Dupin's Bibliotheque des Auteurs Ecclesiastiques,8
to which work he very honestly refers us on the
present occasion. The works of Peter he does not
profess to have seen. As printed in the Bibliotheca
Cluniacensis they extend from col. 621 to col. 1376,
— that is to say, they occupy about 377 folio pages,
which are not, I believe, defrauded of their full
measure by a single note. Dupin's account of the
life and writings of Peter, in this English translation,
does not fill quite seven folio pages, not so large,
but, owing to a smaller type, containing rather more
than an equal number of the others. Of these seven
pages, a large, though I do not know that we should
say a disproportionate, share is given to an abstract
of the letter which Peter wrote in Beply to Bernard's
Apology. Dupin naturally thought this letter one

8 I do not know how far this translation is faithful, not being
much acquainted either with it or with the original work ; and I
shall be very much obliged to anyone who can communicate the
history of this version. I have seen two. or three persons named as
translators, but, I suspect, incorrectly. The tenth volume, with
which we are at present concerned, is, as far as I see, anonymous ;
and so is the ninth ; but the eighth is dedicated to the Bishop of
London, by William Jones, in terms which distinctly imply that he
was the translator. Some of his notes look as if he might be the
person whom Watt mentions as the author of a " Poem on the
Rise, Progress, and present State of the New Reformation. Lond.
1691, foi." Whoever he was, I cannot help suspecting, from the
little which I have seen, that he was not very familiar with eccle
siastical matters and language. In this present article he tells us
that Peter wrote " Several pieces of prose," which he certainly
did ; and perhaps without being aware of it. But the translator
(for the mistake can hardly be Dupin's) does not seem to have
known that a prose was something in verse — especially as he
goes on to say that Peter wrote " a discourse in prose on the
Virgin Mary."

NO. XXI.] PETER THE VENERABLE. 381
of the most curious among nearly two hundred of
Peter's which are extant ; and the abstract which he
gave of it, including the translator's addition,
occupies exactly two pages out of the seven. Yet,
long as it is, this is a very brief abstract of Peter's
long letter, and, compared with it, little more than a
table of contents, stating the points in dispute.
Immediately after it, comes what would be called a
note, if it were not inserted in the text in manner
and form following : —
[And now upon this whole Debate or Controversie between
the Monks of Cisteaux and those of Cluny, we cannot forbear
making this one Remark, that, according to our old course
English Proverb, here has been a great Cry, but little Wool ; a
great noise and clamour about the Externals, but scarce one
Word said, Pro, or Con, about the Internals, of Religion ;
which sufficiently shows, that when Men are once wedded to any
party in Religion, their greatest Heats happen about the Circum
stantials of Religion to which that Party adheres, and that they
have little or no Concern for the Fundamentals of the truly
Catholic and Christian Church.]
Mr. William Jones, in all probability, knew nothing
whatever about the matter but what he found in
Dupin, and did not consider that Peter was replying
to the particulars of a charge of perjury, urged with
great heat by a man whose character and station
made it necessary that every such charge should be
fairly met and discussed. He only thought, perhaps,
that the bookseller who employed him wanted to
have Dupin's work " turned out '' of French into
English, as he tells us that Peter the Yenerable
" procured the Alcoran to be turned out of Arabick
into Latin ; " and having learned and taught his
readers in the foregoing chapter that St. Bernard
" touches the heart with his movements," he perhaps
expected to produce the same effect in the present
case ; or, more probably, only took the opportunity
of showing his zealous protestantism.
The passage, however, inviting attention by the
indicating hand and the brackets, and by being
printed almost entirely in italics, probably caught

382 MILNER ON PETER OF CLUGNI. [NO. XXI.
Milner's eye as he turned over Dupin, just as its
reprint here may arrest the attention of someone
carelessly turning over the leaves of this book ; and
it is, most likely, to this effusion of Mr. William
Jones that Peter owes the notice which he received
from the historian. It is evidently on this sugges
tion, and almost in the language, of this absurd and
ignorant translator, that Milner says, " He takes
large pains to vindicate the manners and customs of
his monastery against objections ; and in doing this
he is so verbose and circumstantial, that he may
seem to have placed the essence of Christianity in
frivolous punctilios and insignificant ceremonies."9
It is not wonderful that, in the practice of these
sortes Dupinianas, Milner sometimes formed wrong
opinions respecting the character and writings of
authors of whose history and works he knew nothing.
But, surely, if the matter is to be decided by a
casual dip, it should at least be made in the author's
own works ; and who will venture to say that Beter
would have been pilloried as an ignorant and trifling
writer, if Milner had happened to open on col. 865,
and to have read in one of his epistles, " Libri, et
maximb Augustiniani, ut nosti, apud nos AITBO
PKECI0SI0KES Sunt ? "
9 Cent. XII. Chap. viii. See Dupin, vol. X. p. 82 of the
English Translation. Lond. 1698, foi.

383

No. XXII.
" It is most deeply to be lamented that your lordship should not
have thought proper to acquaint yourself with some of the most
general and notorious provisions of our collegiate statutes, before
you hazarded against those bodies a charge which, under whatever
name it is disguised, cannot be less than perjury  Is
your lordship aware that, for the most part, these trivial matters
are expressly placed by the statutes themselves at the discretion of
the governing body; that if they are absurd and impracticable
(palpably absurd, and wholly impracticable — for very little licenc e
indeed is to be granted in our notions of absurdity), there is a dis
pensation in the very nature of the oath ; sometimes in the law of
the land ; always in the law of interpretation prescribed by the
founders themselves ? " — Sewbll.
I hope I shall not be understood to insinuate, that
Bernard had no more information respecting matters
which he wished to mend, than what is considered
in the present day quite sufficient for a zealous
reformer. But really, after I had selected and
translated what I am about to lay before the reader,
I took up the letter from which I have made free to
borrow a motto, and there seemed to be such a
resemblance between the circumstances which called
it forth, and those which led to Beter's defence, — ¦
such a similarity in the charge, the manner of making
it, and the mode of meeting it^ — that the abbot might
have written, and almost did write, the very words
which I have quoted. Indeed, I am afraid that I
shall hardly be believed when I say, that I took the
motto because it seemed so applicable to the extracts
which I had already made, and did not select or
modify them to suit the motto.
Before, however, I call the reader's attention to
the dispute between Bernard and Beter (or rather
between their respective " Orders " — for I must use
that word though in some degree by anticipation), it
may be necessary to remind him, that the two men

384 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX [NO. XXII.
hold very different places in history from those which
they actually occupied among their contemporaries.
They were of nearly the same age. Bernard was
born in a.d. 1091 ; and Peter, perhaps three years,
or more probably only one year, after. They were
both of noble family, and had received the best
education which the times afforded. So far they
were alike ; and so they were as to some points of
personal character, which it is not to our present
purpose to discuss. But as to official station they
differed widely.
Clugni, the " Caput Ordinis," had long been the
most important monastery in the world. I have
already said that the abbot Hugh was supposed to
have under his government ten thousand monks ;
and of these Peter found three hundred at Clugni on
his accession in a.d. 1122 ; and a general chapter,
which he held ten years after, was attended by two
hundred affiliated priors. I have not such accurate
information as would enable me to say whether those
from Mount Tabor, or the valley of Jehosaphat, or
Constantinople, were there ; for I am not sure
whether they were then affiliated ; but the Order had
spread far and wide, and its abbots had long been
men of the highest station and most eminent influence
in all matters, both ecclesiastical and secular.
The dependencies of Citeaux, of course, bore no
comparison. Clairvaux was, indeed, its most impor
tant filiation, and had, even when Bernard wrote his
Apology, in 1125, put forth some shoots, but nobody
then knew that it was to be (either by adoption or
foundation) the parent of eight hundred monasteries.
It had only three,1 new, of course, and, I apprehend,
poor, and at no great distance from the parent
monastery, which had scarcely risen into wealth or

1 They were — Trois Fontaines, in the diocese of Chalons, founded
in 1118 ; Fontenay, in the diocese of Autun, founded in the same
year ; and Foigny, in the diocese of Laon, founded in 1121 ; but,
in fact, the church was only dedicated in November, 1124.

NO. XXII.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 385
importance of any kind, except what it derived from
the personal character, the uncommon abilities, and
the singularly influential qualities, of Bernard him
self. No man, I think, can read his history and
writings without feeling that he was one of those
few men who seem as if they could carry all the rest
with them wherever they please, if they could only
once get them within the sphere of their personal
influence. I have said that Peter could not have
been attacked by anyone whom he would have been
more imperatively called on to answer fully; and
perhaps I may add, on the other side, that there was
no one whom, under all the circumstances, it required
more boldness to attack than the abbot of Clugni.
Not that we are to regard it as a personal attack.
Bernard, as I have already stated, had written a
most severe and impassioned letter concerning the
abduction of his cousin Bobert, while Bontius was
abbot of Clugni ; and when (six years after) he
wrote his Apology, it does not appear that he knew
much of Peter, and it seems pretty clear that they
had never met. Indeed, Bernard was particularly
anxious to disclaim anything like personal feeling, or
hostility to the Order ; and though his Apology is
certainly sharp enough, yet it is evident that one
object was to disclaim feelings and opinions which,
being avowed by others of his Order, had been, or
might very naturally be, attributed to him. In what
may be considered as the introduction, he says —
" Who ever heard me openly attacking, or privately whispering
against, that Order ? What man belonging to it did I ever see
without pleasure, receive without honour, speak to without reverence,
admonish without humility ? I said, and I still say, that their
mode of life is indeed holy, honest, adorned with charity, dis
tinguished by prudence, instituted by the fathers, foreordained by
the Holy Spirit, and greatly conducive to the good of souls. Do I
either despise or condemn that of which I speak in such terms ? I
remember to have been, on some occasions, received as a guest in
monasteries of that Order. May the Lord reward his servants for
the even superabundant kindness which they showed me in my ill
ness, and the respect, beyond my deserts, with which they honoured
me. I commended myself to their prayers, I was present at their
0 0

386 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX [NO. XXII.
collations ; frequently I discoursed with many of them on the scrip
tures, and on the salvation of souls, both publicly in their chapters,
and privately in their chambers.
" Whom did I ever, either publicly or privately, dissuade from
entering that Order, or solicit to enter ours ? Have I not rather
repressed many who wished to come, and even driven away those
who did come and knock for entrance? Did I not send back brother
Nicholas to St. Nicholas's, and two monks to your monastery, as
you can bear witness ? Moreover, were there not two abbots of
that Order (whose names I will not mention, but you know them
very well, and you know that they are my intimate friends2) who
wished to migrate to another Order (which you also know), and
who, while they were actually deliberating upon it, were prevented
by my advice, and persuaded not to quit their posts ? Why then
should I be thought, or said, to condemn an Order in the service of
which I persuade my friends to remain, to which I restore its monks
when they come to me, and whose prayers for myself I anxiously
solicit and devoutly receive ?
" Or is it because I am myself of a different Order that I am
suspected ? Why, on the same grounds, all of you who differ from
us may be said to reflect on us. Then those who live in celibacy,
and those who are married, may be said to condemn each other,
because each forms a part of the church, subject to its own laws.
The monks too, and the regular clergy, may be said to reflect on
each other, because they are distinguished from each other by
peculiar observances. Indeed, we may suspect that Noah, Daniel,
and Job, could not bear to live together in that one kingdom,
because we know that they have not reached it by precisely the
same path of righteousness. We must suppose, also, that either
Martha or Mary displeased our Saviour, whom both were trying to
please by modes of service so different. On this principle, too, one
cannot conceive of anything like peace or concord in the whole
church, which is distinguished by so many and such different
Orders, like the queen of whom we read in the Psalm, 'clothed
round about with varieties.'3 For what secure tranquillity, what
safe state, can be found in it, if each man, choosing some one
Order, either despises all the others or suspects that they despise
him ? especially when it is impossible for one man to belong to all
the Orders, or for one Order to comprehend all the men.

2 One of them being the abbot William himself. The monastery
of St. Nicholas here mentioned was that of St. Nicholas aux Bois,
in the diocese of Laon. Simon, its abbot, was the brother of
William. 3 The Vulgate reads, " Circumamicta varietatibus." Ps. xliv. 15.
Eng. Version (xlv. 14) "In raiment of needlework." I give the
Douay version here and in some other places as the only way of
rendering the reference intelligible.

NO. XXII.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 387
" I am not so dull as not to know Joseph's coat — not his who
saved Egypt — but his who saved the world ; and that, not from
bodily hunger, but from the death of both soul and body. Every
one knows that it is a coat of many colours, that is, diversified with
beautiful variety. But it shows, too, the stain of blood — not indeed
of a kid, the type of sin, but of the lamb, the figure of innocence ;
that is, his own, and not another's. He is truly that most meek
Lamb who was dumb, not indeed before the shearer, but the
slaughterer ; who did no sin, but took away the sins of the world.
They sent, too, those who should say to Jacob, ' We have found
this ; see whether it is thy son's coat or not.' And see thou, 0
Lord, whether this is the coat of thy beloved Son. Acknowledge,
O Father Almighty, that coat of many colours which thou madest
for Christ thy Son, giving some apostles, some prophets, some
evangelists, others pastors and teachers, and those other things
which thou hast beautifully appointed for his singular ornament, for
the perfecting of the saints, coming to a perfect man, to the measure
of the stature of the fulness of Christ. Vouchsafe, also, 0 God, to
acknowledge the purple of that most precious blood with which it is
stained, and, in that purple, the illustrious sign, the most glorious
token of obedience. ' Wherefore,' saith he, ' art thou red in thine
apparel ? ' and he answers, ' I have trodden the wine-press alone,
and of the people there was none with me.'
"Therefore, since he hath become obedient unto the Father, even
unto the wine-press of the cross which he trod alone (for it was his
own right arm that helped him), according as it is written in
another place, ' I am alone until I pass ; ' 4 now, therefore, exalt
Him, 0 God, and give unto Him a name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in
heaven and things in earth, and things under the earth ; — let him
ascend up on high, lead captivity captive, and give gifts to men.
What gifts ? Let him leave to his spouse the church that coat of
many colours, but 'without seam, woven from the top throughout! >
Of many colours, from the various distinctions of the many Orders
which compose it; but without seam, by reason of the indivisible
unity of indissoluble charity. ' Who,' saith he, ' shall separate me
from the love of Christ ? ' Hear how it is of many colours : —
' There are,' he says, ' diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit ; and
there are diversities of operations, but the same Lord ; ' and then,
having enumerated various gifts, as it were the colours of the
garment, to show that it is a coat of many colours, he adds, in order
to show that it is without seam, and woven from the top throughout,
' But all these worketh that one and the self-same Spirit, dividing
to every man severally as he will.' For ' the love of God is shed
abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit which is given to us.' Let

4 " Singulariter sum ego donee transeam." Ps. cxl. 10. In our
version, " Whilst that I withal escape." Ps. cxli. 10.

388 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX [NO. XXII.
it not then be divided ; but let the church obtain it whole and
entire, by her hereditary right ; for of this it is written, — ' the
queen stood on thy right hand in clothing of gold, surrounded with
variety.' 6 Therefore it is that different persons receive different
gifts— one thus, and another thus— whether monks of Clugni or of
Citeaux, or canons, or even faithful laymen, in short, every Order,
every tongue, each sex, every age and condition, in every place,
through all time, from the first man to the last. For it is on this
account too that it is described as a long garment,6 because it
reacheth unto the end (as the prophet saith, ' there is no one that
can hide himself from its heat '), suited to him for whom it was
made, of whom another scripture testifieth that he ' reacheth there
fore from end to end mightily, and ordereth all things sweetly.' 7
" Let us all therefore unite under one garment, and out of all let
one be made. Of all, I say, one— for though made up of many, and
those differing, my dove, my perfect one, is but one ; 8 that is, not I
alone, nor you without me, nor he without either of us ; but we are
all, and at the same time, one, if we are but careful to maintain the
unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. It is not, I say, exclusively
our Order, or exclusively yours, which constitutes that one, but
yours and ours together — unless (which God forbid) envying one
another, and provoking one another, we bite one another, and are
consumed one of another, and so make it impossible for the apostle
to present us as a chaste virgin to Christ, that one husband to whom
he espouses us. Yet that one saith in the canticle, ' He set in
order charity in me ; ' 9 that, although one in charity, it might be
diverse in ordination. What then ? I am a Cistercian — do I
therefore condemn those of Clugni? God forbid; but I love, I
praise, I magnify them. ' Why, then,' you will say, ' do you not
take upon you that Order, if you so praise it ? ' Hear — because
the apostle says, ' Let every man abide in the same calling wherein
be was called.'1 And if you ask why I did not originally choose
it, if I knew it to be such as I have stated, 1 answer, because the
apostle again says, ' All things are lawful for me, but all things are
not expedient.' Not, that is, that the Order is not holy and just,
but that I was carnal, sold under sin ; and I felt that my soul was
so diseased as to require more powerful medicine. Now, for
different disorders, different medicines are proper ; and for more
powerful disorders stronger medicines. Suppose two men to have
quartan and tertian ague ; he who has the quartan recommends for

5 " In vestitu deaurato circumdata varietate," v. 10.
6 " Nudaverunt eum tunica talari et polymita." — Gen. xxxvii. 23.
7 Wisd. viii. 1.
8 Cant. vi. 8, Douay.
9 " Ordinavit in me caritatem." Cant. ii. 4. We translate " His
banner over me was love."
1 1 Cor. vi. 10.

NO. XXII.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 389
the tertian, water, pears, and all sorts of cold things, while he
abstains from them himself, and takes wine and other warm things
as more suitable for him. Who, I ask, can properly blame him ?
If the other should say to him, ' Why do not you drink the water
which you so praise ? ' — would he not rightly answer, ' I prescribe
it faithfully in your case, and abstain from it beneficially in my
own.' But suppose it be asked, ' Why, as I praise all the Orders,
I do not keep them all ? ' — for I do praise and love all the Orders,
wherever they live piously and righteously in the church. I do
hold one in practice, the others in charity — and charity will be a
means (I speak confidently) that I shall not lose the fruit of those
whose customs I do not adopt. I will say something further — do
you take care of yourself; for it may happen that you may have
laboured in vain, but that my love to your good works should be
vain is impossible. Oh ! how great confidence may we have in
charity : one man works without charity, while another with charity
does nothing but look on; the one loses his labour, the other's
charity never faileth."
Bernard proceeds to rebuke, with great asperity,
those members of his own Order who brought railing
accusations against the monks of Clugni ; and then
goes on to point out what he considered wrong or
defective in the customs of that monastery. This he
does, it must be admitted, not so much in the style
of brotherly expostulation, as of passionate invective.
I should like to give the whole of this Apology, and,
indeed (if I may so speak), all the pleadings of the
case, of which this Apology formed the declaration ;
but though they appear to me to be most curious
and valuable documents, throwing great light on the
period, and especially on our subject, yet I do not
know that others might think them equally interest
ing ; and, moreover, as Peter himself quietly
observes, in one of his letters: — "Additur difficultati
studium brevitatis, qua modekni nescio qua innata
segnicie delectantur." Were I, however, to trans
cribe the whole of Bernard's work, I do not think
that it would give the reader so clear an idea of the
matters in dispute as may be conveyed by extracting
the brief statement of them with which Peter intro
duces his reply. This, though it is in the form of a
letter to Bernard, professes not so much to be an

390 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX [NO. XXII.
answer to his Apology, as to the charges commonly
brought by the Cistercians.
" Some of your monks, however, object to ours in this manner: —
You, say they, do not keep the Rule which you have professed to
follow, as may be seen by your works. On the contrary, your feet
have turned aside into unknown paths, and devious tracks of all
sorts. For, having made laws for yourselves, according to your
own liking, you call them most sacred. You renounce the precepts
of the fathers for your traditions ; and, what seems monstrous, you
act in one and the same matter both as masters and disciples.
Moreover, to increase your sin and the Divine displeasure, you bind
yourselves by a vow before God and his saints, and, transgressing
it, you show yourselves, without all doubt, guilty of breaking a
vow. You promise to fight in the heavenly camp under the rule of
St. Benedict, and to maintain a perpetual obedience to his regula
tions. This is your promise — let us see whether your manner of
life corresponds to it.
" And that we may take up these points in regular order, how do
you keep the Rule as to the admission of novices, when it directs
that they shall not be received until after a year, during which
their spirits shall be tried whether they are of God,2 and you receive
them without hesitation, and (if we may so speak) the very moment
that they apply ? Whence it happens that, having been carelessly
received, they live still more carelessly after their reception ; and
because when they came they did not understand what they were
coming to, when they are associated with the rest they know not
what to do; and, not having been previously trained in the stadium,
when they come to the real conflict they fly instead of fighting, or
if they fight with a bravery which should ensure conquest, their
inexpertness renders them an easy prey to the enemy.
" By what authority, also, do you defend the use of leather
garments, and of skins of various sorts, when that Rule contains
nothing about any such things ?
" It commands, also, that those who are sent abroad shall receive
breeches from the wardrobe, and shall replace them there on their
return, not allowing anyone but those who are so circumstanced to
wear them.3
" As to your bed furniture, judge for yourselves whether you
follow the master, while you certainly put both under and over you
more things, and different things than those prescribed by the
Rule.4 " In that Rule, so often mentioned already, you read that all the

s " Noviter veniens quis ad conversionem, non ei facilis tribuatur
ingressus : sed sicut ait apostolus ' probate spiritus,' " &c. Cap.
lviii. 3 Cap. iv. 4 Ibid.

NO. XXII.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 391
monks should be satisfied with two dressed dishes ; or that, if there
be means for providing a third, it shall be of fruit, or pulse ; 5
whether you adhere to this, is known to yourselves.
" It commands that monks who are transgressors and apostates
from their profession,- -that is, those who withdraw their necks
from the yoke of the Rule, run away from monasteries, and return
to secular life — shall, if they express their repentance and desire to
return, be received to the third time ; 6 and that if after that they
repeat the offence, they shall not be again received. You, however,
set at nought this regulation, as you do the others, and receive them
as often as they choose to come, contrary to the command of the
Rule. " What shall we say of the regular fasts which you have so set
aside, and so changed according to your own will and pleasure, that
you scarcely retain some small remains of them— and those, perhaps,
more from shame towards man than from the fear of God ? For
whereas the monks are commanded to fast on Wednesdays and
Fridays, from Whitsuntide to the 13th of September, they should
fast till the ninth hour, unless they have work to do in the fields, or
the heat of the weather should be very oppressive. And whereas
it is also enjoined, that from the 13th of September to Ash-
Wednesday, they should always take their meal at the ninth hour,7
you, on the contrary, throughout the summer, make all the days of
the week alike, and keep the prescribed fast by eating twice every
day, and the remainder of the time, by keeping or neglecting the
fast at your pleasure. Instead of submitting yourselves to the
Rule, you make the Rule submit to you.
" Manual labour, which the holy fathers, the hermits, always
used — whereby even the apostles provided the means of sustenance
for themselves and others — concerning which, while visiting the sin
of the first man with this punishment, God said, ' in the sweat of
thy brow thou shalt eat thy bread,' — -of which, also, David, ' Thou
shalt eat the labours of thy hands ; blessed art thou, and it shall be
well with thee ; ' you have so renounced, that not even all these
authorities have power to make you labour, nor can the obedience
which you promised to render to God, according to the Rule, prevail
to draw from your bosom, and set to work, hands that have become
delicate through idleness.
" You know that it is there also commanded, that on the arrival
or departure of guests, Christ, who is received in them, is to be
worshipped by the monks, with bowing of the head, or the prostra
tion of the whole body on the ground. Neither are you ignorant
that it is there commanded — ' The abbot shall pour water on the
hands of the guests ; the abbot and the whole congregation shall
wash the feet of all the guests ; ' 8 but you, despisers of your vow,
do not care to keep it even in that small matter.
" The abbot is directed to keep an inventory of the implements

5 Cap. xxxix. 6 Cap. xxix. 7 Cap. xli. 8 Cap. liii.

392 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX [NO. XXII.
and various things belonging to the monastery ; 9 but either through
negligence he does not care, or through pride he does not con
descend, to do it.
" Moreover, whereas it is commanded that those who are not
able to attend the church to join in divine worship, shall bow their
knees with godly fear in the place where they may happen to be ; 1
you (according to your custom, following your own rule and
despising the common one) neglect this, though there is nothing
very burdensome in it ; and, making some devices of your own, you
put contempt on this little commandment, just as you do on those
which are greater.
" Also, it commands that the abbot shall always take his meals
with the guests and strangers,2 that so he may always have Christ
as his guest, who declares that he will say, ' I was a stranger, and
ye took me in.' This so great benefit, and one so easily obtained,
you despise, as if you thought it of no value.
" It is commanded that wheresoever the brethren meet each
other, the younger shall ask a blessing of the elder ; 3 and this,
also, is not done among you.
" It is commanded that a wise old man shall be put at the gate
of the monastery,4 which is not done.
" It is directed that the porter shall answer, ' Deo gratias,' or
give his blessing to everyone who shall knock or call ; and this is
not observed.
" This, however — this, I say, opposed to all reason and authority,
how do you defend — that those who have already made profession of
steadfastness, and conversion, and obedience, in one place, should
again, in another place, repeat the vow of steadfastness, conversion,
and obedience ; and you compel them to make void their former
faith ; so that you thus environ those who give way to you with
such inevitable peril, that, turn which way they will, they cannot
escape sin. For if they will keep the first vow, they are guilty as
to the second ; if they keep the second, they are entangled by the
first. Nor do they alone suffer, but the same chain will bind your
selves, perhaps even more severely ; for deceivers ought to suffer a
greater punishment than those who are deceived.
" But, besides, give, if you can, any excuse for this — that, con
trary to your Rule, so often mentioned (yours, certainly, — yours,
either to save or condemn you), you receive, indifferently, monks of
another, and of a known monastery, without permission of their
own abbots, or letters of recommendation ; and thus you do to
others what you would not have done to yourselves.5 In this, also,
you show a want of regard to brotherly love, nor do you love your
neighbours as yourselves, according to the divine precept, which
says, ' This is my commandment, that ye love one another.'
" Beside all this, there is one thing which you pertinaciously

9 Cap. xxxii. i Cap. 1. 2 Cap. lvi.
3 Cap. lxiii. 4 Cap. lxvi. 5- Cap. lxi.

NO. XXII.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 393
maintain, which everyone must plainly see to be unjust, and con
trary to the decrees of the church, and such as might lead all persons
justly to condemn you. Contrary to the custom of the whole world,
you refuse to have any bishop of your own. How absurd this is,
even the ignorant must see. For whence are you to get chrism ?
whence holy orders ? whence the consecration of churches, and the
benediction of burial places ? whence, in short, all things which, in
order to canonical performance, require the presence or direction of
a bishop ? Certainly in these points you break the Rule, not only
of monks, but of all Christians.
" On what ground do you hold parish churches, first fruits, and
tithes, when, according to the canons, all these things pertain not
to monks, but to clerks ? That is, they are granted to those whose
office it is to baptize, and to preach, and to perform whatever else
belongs to the cure of souls, in order that they may not be neces
sarily involved in secular business ; but that, as they labour in
the church, they may live by the church, as the Lord saith, ' The
labourer is worthy of his hire.' But why do you usurp these things,
while it is not your place to do any of the duties which we have
mentioned ? and while you do not perform that labour, why do you
take the wages thereof ?
" But what will you say concerning those secular possessions
which you hold after the manner of secular persons, from whom, in
this particular, you seem not to differ at all. For towns, villages,
and peasants, servants and handmaids, and, what is worse, the pro
ceeds of tolls and taxes, and almost all revenues of that kind, you
receive indifferently, hold them unlawfully, and, when they are
attacked, you do not scruple to use all means to defend them.
Hence it is that, contrary to the laws of monastic order, ecclesiastics
carry on secular causes, monks turn advocates, accuse and are
accused, become witnesses (contrary to the apostle's injunction), are
present at trials, and, under pretext of maintaining their rights,
they do, in heart, return into Egypt. After having left Sodom,
they turn to behold its conflagration. Having put their hand to
the plough, they look back, and therefore cannot be fit for the
kingdom of heaven. In all these things we have very clearly shown
that you are transgressors of your profession, and of your vow ; for
if it is certain that your Rule has commanded these things, and
that you have made a vow to keep it — if it shall appear that you
have not hitherto done this — it is clear, as we have said, that you
are guilty of breaking your vow. But we observe all these things
as they are commanded ; and keep, without exception, whatsoever
is in the Rule which we promised to God that we would keep.
' ' To these things our monks reply — Oh, oh ! a new race of
pharisees has risen up in the world, who separating themselves
from others, and setting up themselves before all, say what the
prophet foretold that they would say, ' Touch me not, for I am
clean.' But to answer first to that which you have put last — say,
you true observers of the Rule, how is it that you boast of keeping

394 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX [NO. XXII.
jt ? when, as your very words show, you do not even keep that
short paragraph in which it is said that a monk is not only to
declare with his lips, but to feel in his inmost heart, that he is the
least, and meanest of men ? 6 Is this to believe and to declare
yourselves inferior, when you disparage the deeds of others and
extol your own, despise others and magnify yourselves, while the
scripture directs — ' when ye shall have done all those things which
are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants ? ' 'In thy
sight,' says the prophet, ' shall no man living be justified ; ' and
Isaiah, ' All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.' "
Having thus briefly stated the charges, the abbot
proceeds to answer them in detail, and at consider
able length ; but one or two extracts will enable the
reader to judge of the style and spirit of his reply,
and how far it was just (even supposing that he had
not written anything but that single letter to Bernard)
to characterize him as an ignorant and trifling writer,
who "may seem to have placed the essence of
Christianity in frivolous punctilios and insignificant
ceremonies." " It is objected to us that, on every arrival or departure of
guests, both the abbot and the whole congregation do not prostrate
themselves on the ground, or bow all their heads in the sight of
all the guests, that the abbot does not pour water on the hands of
the guests, and that he, as well as the whole congregation does
not wash all their feet. It is affirmed by the objectors, that the
salvation of monks depends on their keeping these things to the
letter ; but, oh ! men, like children running after butterflies, fight
ing, yet beating not us but the air, making frivolous objections, not
following the path of discretion, the mother of .virtues, and there
fore turning aside from the right way ; tell us, we beseech you, is
the congregation of Clugni or any other congregation to be
adjudged to have broken its vow, and therefore to be deprived of
eternal salvation, unless, with its abbot, it bows or prostrates itself
before all guests who come and go ? Shall it be consigned to
perdition if it does not wash the hands and feet of all the guests ?
If it be so, either the whole body of monks must be at all times in
the house appropriated to guests, or the guests must be lodged in
the cloister and in the apartments of the monks ; for it is quite
impossible that the injunction should be literally fulfilled unless
they actually live together. For the continual coming and going

In cap.

NO. XXII.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 395
of visitors will require the constant attendance of those who are to
wait upon them.
" Hence it will happen that those whom you wish to be monks
can no longer be so, but, always living with secular persons, will
lose both the name and the true life of monks ; and while they are
labouring unwisely to keep this part of the law, they must give up
all the rest of it, without even attaining what they aim at. Thus,
plainly thus, it will happen — this will be the consequence — monks
must live with clerks, soldiers, peasants, clients, players, and men
of various conditions, and even (for they are not shut out from
hospitality) with women ; and these peculiar persons, these who
are dead to the world, these to whom even the free use of the
common air is not allowed, are to be again mixed up in promiscuous
intercourse with mankind, from whom they have separated.
Undoubtedly the number of visitors is almost always so great that
if we must bow and prostrate ourselves before them all, and if we
must wash the hands and feet of all, it will be necessary, as I have
said, that all the monks should be with them from the rising of the
sun to its setting, and spend the whole day in genuflections and in
washing hands and feet, and very often they would not be able to
go through the business in the day. Let them, then, give up all
divine service ; let them give up all the other parts of the Rule ;
let them give up even their meals ; let them not trouble themselves
about prime, or tierce, or sext, or nones, or vespers, or complin, or
the celebration of mass ; let them give up all these things for the
washing of hands and feet, and either let the church be silent, or
let some other persons be found to do the duty of the monks. Does
not this appear very ridiculous ? Would not even the most stupid
protest against such a proceeding ? Would not even the brute
beasts cry out against it ? We do, however, what we can ; and on
every day in the year we do wash the hands and the feet of three
strangers, and offer them bread and wine, the abbot taking his
turn, and none except those who are disabled by sickness being
excepted. " Thus we fulfil what we can of the Rule, and do not, for the
sake of this, break the other parts of it ; for it behoves us, as our
Lord saith, to do these things and not to leave the others undone.
And though, as I have shown, reason itself, even without our
adding anything, exclaims against your objection, and completely
makes an end of it, yet it behoves us to recur to what we before
stated, and from thence to show that we fully keep the Rule. St.
Benedict says, ' Let the abbot so temper and dispose. all things as
that souls may be saved.' He said ' all things,' and excepted
nothing. If, therefore, the abbot is allowed, for the good of souls,
to temper and dispose all things, it is lawful for him so to temper
these things that have been mentioned as that the guests shall
want nothing that is necessary, but shall be received and provided
for with respect, brotherly love, and diligence ; while, at the same
time, the Church of God shall not be defrauded of its proper

396 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX [NO. XXII.
services, and no part, even the least, of regular observance shall be
intermitted." I think this will appear to most readers to be a
sensible and sufficient reply to the charge. His
defence on another point certainly seems less satis
factory if we look at the strict letter of the Eule ;
but it is perhaps on that account the more to our
purpose. It shows the abbot contending not for
punctilios, but for such a discretionary dispensing
power as might indeed have been long used in his
monastery, but has perhaps scarcely ever obtained
in any other, where the Bule of St. Benedict was
professed. The passage is, moreover, very charac
teristic of the man.
" You say that the Rule directs that we should place a wise old
man at the gate of the monastery, and that we omit to do so. But
we reply — supposing us to have a porter who is a wise man, though
he does not happen to be an old one, are we to be condemned as
breakers of the Rule, and on that account deserving of hell?
Suppose we should not be able to find old age and wisdom in the
same person ? Is he on this account — because he is not both old
in years and wise in conduct — incapable of acting as porter? What
says the scripture ? — ' Wisdom is the grey hair unto men, and an
unspotted life is old age.' 7 Beside this — unless he answers, ' Deo
gratias,' to all who knock or call, or bawls out a benediction, even
though he should perform all the offices of kindness to those who
come, yet, according to you, it profiteth nothing ; and not even the
whole Rule, kept most strictly in all other points, can suffice to
save us, unless the aforesaid porter cries out with a loud voice,
' Deo gratias.' Let reason consider this, let truth consider, let the
lovers of truth consider, and without our saying a word, let them
tell us what they think. But why are we to place a porter at our
gate, when we have no gate ? For our gates are not shut by day ;
but, always standing open, they admit all comers, without respect
of persons. No one is obliged to knock or call, because he finds,
not only the outer gates, but the entrance to the hospitium open ;
and, seating himself there, he sees that every necessary preparation
has been made for his reception. Lest, however, the monks should
be kept out of their own houses, we cause a wise and honest servant
to remain, and to lie at hand; who, at noon, or at those times when
all the gates of the monastery are by custom closed, may answer

7 Wisd. iv. 9.

NO. XXII.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 397
to those who knock or call, not so much by the clamour of his
voice, as by the performance of his duty. Then, certainly, thus
doing, we are not breakers, but, according to our power, keepers
of our Rule."
These extracts will not, I trust, be found
uninteresting by the reader. I give them not only
as a matter of justice to Peter, but as directly
bearing on our subject.

398

No. XXIII.
"Pontio Clarevallensi successit Petrus, cujus meminit Trithemius,
libro de scriptoribus Ecclesiasticis, floruitque hoc duodecimo seculo.
Is unus eorum est qui Romanam tyrannidem animadvertit et
accusavit." — Cat. Test. Verit.
In the preceding paper I have exhibited Bernard
and Peter, not, indeed, as enemies — for, to the
credit of both parties, there does not seem to have
existed anything that could be called enmity between
them, even in the height of their dispute — yet in
something like a hostile position towards each other.
It is but justice to show them as friends ; and
happily we have the means of doing this from some
of the letters which passed between them.
It may perhaps be remembered, that I was led to
speak of Peter by getting unexpectedly involved in
his correspondence; and, in truth, it was with an
intention of producing some extracts from his letters
that I brought him forward. I meant to have
prefaced those extracts by some remarks on the
value of the epistolary correspondence of the dark
ages ; but in this point I have been very agreeably
anticipated by an able and extended discussion and
illustration of the subject. I take it for granted,
that all who may trouble themselves to read what I
write will be acquainted with the article to which I
refer,1 and I will therefore here only offer one
remark on the subject. I am so fully convinced of
the value and importance of the immense number
of middle-age letters which are still in existence,
and of their not having been yet made to yield any
thing like all the very interesting materials which

1 In the recent number of the Quarterly Review. TThat is
¦• recent," in July, 1837.] See Note E.

NO. XXIII.J EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE. 399
they contain for history, that it has appeared to me
most desirable to obtain something like a chrono
logical arrangement of them. The full value of
such a thing cannot be estimated until it is done ;
but even a slight acquaintance with comparatively
few of them is sufficient to persuade me that, when
brought together by the chronology which we have,
one of the first effects would be a correction of that
chronology in almost innumerable instances.
Beside this, letters passing at a certain time
between A and B, with more or less reference to
the events of the period, being thus placed beside
those which passed at the same time between C and
D, and half-a-dozen other couples of correspondents
in different places, who had never heard of A and
B, or of each other, — these letters having no
common tie as to their writers, their locality, or
their professed subjects, and now suffered to lie in a
wide dispersion, would, if collected and arranged in
order of time, be found to dove-tail in an infinite
variety of circumstances, and thus throw light on
facts and motives, fix dates, identify persons, explain
contradictions, — in a word, illustrate history in
every way, and that, perhaps, to a greater degree
than we can at present imagine, or could by any
other means perform.
" I wolde wyshe," says Bale, " som learned
Inglishman (as there are now most excellent fresh
wyttes) to set forth the Inglish Chronycles in their
right shape, as certein other landes hath done afore
them, al affections set a-part. I cannot think a
more necessary thing to be laboured to the honour
of God, bewty of the realme, erudicion of the people,
and commoditie of other landes, next the sacred
scriptures of the Byble, than that worke wold
be." 2
Of the truth of this I am very fully convinced ;
and I cannot but wish to see something effected on
2 Brief Chron. of Sir J. Oldcastle, Har. Misc. ii. 237.

400 REPUBLICATION OF [NO. XXIII.
a larger scale. I have long, and often, and earnestly
thought, how good a thing it would be, if the
chronicles which we possess, and many of which
have been edited, either separately or in various
larger or smaller collections, with much learning,
industry, and critical skill, — which, nevertheless, lie
so wide that one can scarcely hope to see them all,
or even any considerable proportion of them, any
where but in a public library, — which, even when
found, require him who would collect, and compare,
and weigh their testimony on any point, to cover
something less than an acre with outspread folios, and
wander to and fro among them, carrying about
collations in his head, till his patience and his shoes
are very considerably worn in the business, — which,
on this very account, have never yet, I believe, been
fairly placed side by side, so as to show the full
extent of reiteration, concordance, and discrepancy,
and to reflect on each other that light which obscure,
and even unintelligible passages, often do throw on
each other; if, I say, we had these, which are, in
fact, not only the sources of history, but all, and
more than all, the real history which we have,
brought into something like what theological writers
call a " Harmony," with the letters chronologically
arranged, as I have already suggested, by way of a
running commentary, I really believe that we might
very easily know more of history than anybody has
ever known yet.
It would, to be sure, be rather a large work, but
a very noble one ; and then, if people liked to write
what is commonly called History, they would know
where to find materials on their own terms (that is,
without trouble), or, if they still preferred, as too
many have done, making it out of their own heads,
others would know where to find an antidote to
their misrepresentations. I do not think that Bale
has stated the matter too strongly, and I really
doubt whether any competent man could be better
employed (I do not mean merely for the cause of

NO. XXIII.] THE SOURCES OF HISTORY. 401
literature, or general truth, but specially for the
cause of Christ's Church on earth), than in thus
arranging and editing the records, and in particular
the letters, of the dark ages ; and, as to these latter,
I heartily wish that the writer who has shown such
a sense of their value, and such a capability for the
work, would undertake it.
It is very pleasant to run on imagining the supply
of desiderata ; but perhaps some sedate reader may
have already asked, " What would be the expense
of such an undertaking?" I am sure I do not
know ; but I am inclined to think that those who
have not turned their attention to the subject would
be surprised to see in how small a compass all that
may be called original histories, or sources of
history, would lie. Still I acknowledge that it
would be rather a large work; and if it be asked,
" Who will buy it ? " I feel some hesitation about
an answer. I have no such certainty to fall back
upon as George Stevens's projector had, when he
proposed to pay off the National Debt by bottling
the Biver Thames, and selling it as Spa- water :
"But you say, 'Who'll buy it ? '—Who'll buy it ?
why, the Waterman's Company must buy it, or what
will they do with their boats?" There is no
chartered company on the stream of history. Any
speculator may launch his barge or his wherry ; he
may take in whatever company he can get for
Bichmond, but there is nothing beyond their own
sagacity to prevent their being floated down the
stream, and floundered out on the Isle of Dogs, and
there left to make the best of their bargain ; and
truly (if I may trust the popular opinion) when they
have got upon their legs, and settled to their own
satisfaction whether the Tower is Somerset House
or Greenwich Hospital, they may feel thankful that
matters have been no worse, — that they were not
run down by some dashing steam-boat or cross-
headed lighter, and that they are- where they are, to
comfort themselves with the reflection that, for all
D D

402 REPUBLICATION OF HISTORIANS. [NO. XXIII.
the really useful, purposes of air, and exercise, and
pastime, it does just as well as if they had gone
where they thought they were going. This, how
ever, by the way ; — it being only a little reflection
suggested by the sudden (and to myself very
unexpected) mention of the Waterman's Company ;
it is my hope and belief that a work which would
be obviously for the whole world, and which must
maintain an undiminished value as long as the world
lasts, would meet with support. I do not say that
any particular individual or body must buy it ; but I
cannot help very thankfully expressing my convic
tion that something like a must is growing up among
the more educated classes, who (one sees proof of it
every day) are prying into the original sources of
history, both secular and ecclesiastical, and who, if
such a scheme were proposed by capable men, would
feel that they must support it.3
But as to Bernard and Peter ; there are two
passages in this letter of Peter which I must add to
those already given.
" After this, you adduce some very strange and unheard-of
charges, — insomuch that we hesitate to answer, through mere
astonishment. You blame us, and say that we are just like secular
persons, because we have castles, towns, peasants, servants, and
handmaids, and (worse still) revenues arising from tolls ; and we
accept property of almost every such kind without distinction, hold
it unlawfully, and defend it by all sorts of means against those who
attack it. You add, that on this account, laying aside our monastic

3 I believe that at the time when this suggestion was made, the
English Historical Society was just being formed, though I was
not aware of that fact. Since then the Camden, the Irish Archaeo
logical, and the iElfric have been added. I might perhaps fairly
add the Anglo- Catholic and the Parker Societies ; both formed
exclusively for the reprinting old books, and both (the latter one
more directly and in a greater degree) tending to illustrate the
history of the Church by giving us the works of contemporary
writers. Are not these new Societies sufficient (without saying
anything of what has been done by the government or by private
individuals) to warrant my suggestion that a spirit of investigation
was arising ?

NO. XXIII.] BERNARD AND PETER. 403
character, we assume that of lawyers, accuse and are accused, pro
duce witnesses from our own body, are concerned (contrary to the
apostle's injunction) in judicial proceedings, and cannot therefore
be fit for the kingdom of heaven.
" It would be proper for you who make these charges to sub
stantiate them by some written authority, to which we must yield,
and not let them rest on your bare assertion, by which we are not
greatly moved. For thus the law requires, that he who accuses
anyone should prove his charge, since the burthen of proof always
lies on the accuser. Nevertheless, we will here act contrary to this
judicial method ; and, sparing you, whom we know to be unable to
prove your case, we will prove our own in the following manner : —
" We know, indeed, that ' the earth is the Lord's, and the
fulness thereof ; the world, and they that dwell therein ; ' but,
beside this, we read elsewhere in the same Psalms, ' The heaven,
even the heavens, are the Lord's ; but the earth hath he given to
the children of men.' It is plain, then, that both the heaven and
the earth are the Lord's ; but that he has given the earth unto
men for a time, that, if they use it well, they may, after the earth,
attain unto heaven,4 and that what was his by sovereign power,
may become man's through his benignity. By which most merciful
benignity and most benign mercy, though he ' hath poised with
three fingers the bulk of the earth, and weighed the mountains in
scales, and the hills in a balance,' 5 he nevertheless accepts that
same earth, and those earthly gifts, from those same men to whom
he had given them, and (if I may so speak) allows the kingdom
of heaven to be bought at his own expense. Nor does he thence
seek profit for himself, but the salvation of man, and esteems that
his own gain. Hence it is, that, while he orders that meat should
be given to the hungry, and drink to the thirsty, he previously
creates bread in the corn, wine in the grape, and loads the trees

4 " Post terram mererentur et ccelum, et quse sua erant ex
potestate, hominum fierent ex ipsius benignitate." I believe that
I give the true sense of the author, that is, the true sense of
mereor — as commonly used by writers of the dark ages — which is
(as I think I could show by a good many examples, which some
criticisms that I have seen have led me to notice, but which it
would be out of place here to transcribe), to arrive at, or obtain, or
come to the possession of, some honour or benefit, without reference
to personal desert, or what a protestant would understand to be
referred to in the popish doctrine of merit. Indeed, whoever under
stands Peter as affirming that none but those who have merited
heaven shall obtain it, must understand that none do obtain the
earth until they have previously merited it. And this is, in fact,
true, according to his use of the word, and his meaning.
5 Douay vers. Isa. xl. 12, " Appendit tribus digitis molem
ten-SB." — Vulg.

404 PETER THE VENERABLE'S [NO. XXIII.
with fruit, and the animals with offspring. The very water, for a
cup of which given to the needy he has declared that a reward is
laid up, he makes to rise from springs, and flow through all the
rivers. And, in a word, all the things with regard to which he
rewards the goodwill of those who give them, he does himself, first
of all, give to those givers. Hence the Church of God, grounding
its right as well on the Old Testament as on the New, receives all
things that are offered, not to her, but to God, as his representa
tive ; and thence charitably maintains those of her members who
are in want, and have no property of their own in the world ; as
clerks, and monks, or paupers, or whomsoever she knows to suffer
the need of such things. Monks, therefore (for at present we
speak of them only), receive all the offerings of the faithful, whether
in moveable or immoveable property ; and repay the donors by a
perpetual course of prayer, fasting, and good works. But as it is
respecting the acceptance of immoveable property that we are now
called in question, I will at present answer to that point.
" In the first place, then, we plead our Rule. For, in treating
of the reception of novices, it says — ' If he has any property (res
si quas habet), let him either first give it to the poor, or, by a
solemn act of donation, confer it on the monastery.' 6 By saying,
' if he has any property,' it excepts nothing ; but if it excepts
nothing, it does not except any landed property, or town, or
peasants, or servants, or handmaids, or anything of that kind. But
clearly nothing is excepted, and therefore it is obvious that these
things which we have mentioned are not excepted. And what I
have before quoted from St. Gregory agrees with the command of
our Rule ; wherein he forbids that any bishop or secular person
should presume, in any way, or on any occasion, either by fraud or
force, to take from the revenues, or property, or muniments of
monasteries, or of cells, or towns belonging to them. For, by
forbidding that anyone should take away any of these things, or
presume to employ fraud or force against them, he most evidently
shows that monks might lawfully possess revenues, property, cells,
and towns ; as he would, by no means, have forbidden that they
should be disturbed in the possession of those things, if he had
known that they held them unlawfully. And, since the revenues
arising from land are of different kinds, and property is of various
descriptions, and since there cannot be towns without inhabitants
(that is, men and women, of different conditions), and the words
of Gregory contain no exception with regard to them, it is plainly
shown that monks may rightly possess all sorts of revenues, with
out any exception, — any kind of property, any towns ; and, by a
parity of reasoning, any inhabitants of the different conditions, that
is, free or servile.
" But you will, perhaps, object, that without the help of all these
things, monks ought to provide what is needful for them, by

6 Cap. lviii.

NO. XXIII.J DEFENCE OF CLUGNI. 405
agriculture, and the labour of their own hands. I think, however,
that no one can fail to see how indecent and impossible this would
be ; and, in the first place, I shall show that it is impossible.
How are a languid set of men, confined to a vegetable diet, that
imparts scarcely any physical strength, and, in fact, hardly keeps
them alive, and who are, on that account, in a state of great
debility, to endure agricultural labours, which are found most
oppressive by hinds and peasants, and to do the hard work of
ploughmen, exposed sometimes to scorching heat, sometimes to
rain, snow, and intense cold ? And how are they who, by religious
fasting, commonly diminish even their poor weakly food, to bear
such hard and continual labour? And if, as to bodily strength,
they could bear all this, why should they do it, when, without the
help of others, they can obtain sufficient food and clothing ?
" Having shown that it is impossible, I will show that it would
be indecent. Does it not appear indecent — yes, most indecent —
that monks, who are directed always to keep in the cloister,
devoting themselves most intensely to silence, prayer, reading, and
meditation, and the other precepts of the rule and services of the
church, should throw up all these things for vulgar and rustic
labour ? that those who, like the fine linen of the tabernacle,
should adorn its interior by their value and their fine texture (that
is, by the subtle contemplation of heavenly things), should like
hair-cloth on the outside, have to bear the wind and rain, and all
the storms, — that is, too great occupation in worldly affairs drawing
them away from internal things ?
" And since this, as I have said, is proved to be both indecent
and impossible, you must of necessity allow monks some other
means of maintaining their order above absolute want; and indeed,
if you refuse your permission, we shall nevertheless, relying on the
authority of the saint, continue our practice. You have just heard
that St. Gregory allowed these things to monks ; now observe that
he gave them ; for thus we read in his life : — ' When Gregoiy
came to have the full power of disposing of his property, he built
six monasteries in Sicily, and stocked them with a sufficient number
of monks, to whom he gave as. much landed property as might
provide a daily maintenance to those who were there serving God.'
And of St. Maur we read : — ' The next day St. Maur went to see
and take possession of the royal estate which the king had given to
the monastery.' And again — ' At the same time, Lothaire, coming
to Angers, sent word to the man of God that he wished to come to
the monastery. And when the man of God returned an answer
that he might come, he set out with a few attendants. And when
he had come there, he gave to that place an estate belonging to
the royal property, called Blazon ; and there, also, by royal
authority, he gave the town called Lougus-campus.' We find, too,
that almost all the things which you think that monks ought not
to have, were possessed by St. Columban and many other holy
monks, whose merits God attested by many and great miracles, and
whom the church solemnly commemorates.

406 PETEE THE VENERABLE'S [NO XXIII.
" And now, to add another argument to what we have premised
— who will not think it more right, more expedient, more useful,
that every one of those various things which have been specified
should be in the hands of those whom the Order which they have
assumed, and the monastic vow which they have made, bind to a
lawful use and possession of them, than of those who, through
negligence, and being under the influence of less strict obligation,
not merely despise the trouble of good management, but also from
an undue love of the things themselves, and by ill management of
them, bring on their own destruction ? For as we see commonly,
and in almost every case, as long as they are held by secular
persons, they are dealt with in a secular manner ; but when the
property in them is transferred to the religious (if they are such,
not in name only, but in fact), then by the religious they will be
religiously dealt with. And, for instance, let me specify some
things : — Suppose a castle is given to monks, it immediately ceases
to be a castle, and becomes an oratory; nor does anyone after that
fight against corporeal enemies, in a corporeal army, but is
employed in repelling spiritual enemies, by spiritual weapons. And
thus it comes to pass, that what was before fighting for the devil,
now begins to fight for Christ ; and what was before a den of
thieves, is made a house of prayer.
" The same argument may be used as to peasants, servants, and
handmaids ; and by it we may most excellently prove that monks
have a legitimate right to possess them. For everybody sees how
secular masters rule over their peasants, servants, and handmaids ;
for they are not satisfied with their accustomed and due service,
but always unmercifully claim their persons with their property,
and their property with their persons. Hence it is, that, beside
the accustomed payments, they three or four times in the year, or
as often as they please, spoil them of their goods ; they oppress
them with innumerable claims of service ; they lay upon them
grievous and insupportable burthens. Hence they force many to
leave their native soil and fly to foreign parts, and (what is worse)
their very persons, which Christ hath redeemed with so rich a
price — even his own blood — they are not afraid to sell for one so
mean, that is, for money. Now, monks, though they may have
such possessions, do not possess them in the same way, but very
differently ; for they employ only the lawful and due services of
the peasants to procure the conveniences of life. They harass
them with no exactions, they impose no intolerable burthens, and
if they see them in want, they maintain them at their own expense.
They have servants and handmaids, not as servants and handmaids,
but as brothers and sisters ; and, receiving from them reasonable
service according to their ability, take care in return that they
shall suffer no want or injury ; so that they are (to use the words
of the apostle) as having nothing, yet possessing all things. By
the authorities and arguments which I have adduced, therefore, it
is, I think, clear, even to the blind, that monks may not only law
fully possess such things, but even more lawfully than laymen.

NO,

XXI1I.J DEFENCE OF CLUGNI. 407

" And why are we to be prohibited from receiving the proceeds
of tolls, when it is acknowledged that the princes of this world
hold them lawfully ? Or, is it thought unlawful for them to
possess what the apostle directs their subjects to pay to them —
' tribute to whom tribute, custom to whom custom ? ' Truly we
consider that to be lawful which is done all over the world without
reproof from the Church of God, which passes by no unrighteous
ness : nobody is excommunicated, nobody is even called in question
for it. And since, without the contradiction of anyone they
receive them as they do their other rights, why may they not, in
like manner, give them to churches and monasteries of God 1 Why
may not monks rightly receive these from them as well as other
things ? If you object that St. Matthew, being called by the Lord
from the receipt of custom, did not afterwards return to it, as an
unrighteous calling, while Peter and the other apostles, who were
fishermen, after being in like manner called, were found afterwards
fishing, whereby they proved the lawfulness of that occupation, we
reply that this does not in any way help your argument, or weaken
ours, for we are not defending violent exactions, such as Matthew
relinquished, but just, customary, payments, which the church
receives." There are several reasons, which will, I hope, be
apparent, for my quoting this passage ; but one of
them is so important that I cannot help distinctly
calling attention to it. It gives us a glimpse of one
of those features of the dark ages which are the
least known, and by many most reluctantly acknow
ledged. It goes to show that, at the darkest periods,
the Christian Church was the source and spring of
civilization, the dispenser of what little comfort and
security there was in the things of this world, and
the quiet scriptural asserter of the rights of man.
Whether, strictly speaking, the monks of the order
of St. Benedict had a right to dispense with manual
labour, I very much doubt, notwithstanding the
abbot Peter's defence of them, which I quote princi
pally to show that he was not quite the person that
he has been represented to be ; but it was, and we
ought gratefully to acknowledge that it is, a most
happy thing for the world that they did not confine
themselves to the possession of such small estates
as they could cultivate with their own hands.
Without at present entering into a subject which

408 ECCLESIASTICAL LANDLORDS [NO. XXIII.
is extremely interesting, and for the illustration of
which materials are very abundant, I may just
observe that the extraordinary benefit which they
conferred on society by colonizing waste places —
places chosen because they were waste and solitary,
and such as could be reclaimed only by the incessant
labour of those who were willing to work hard and
live hard — lands often given because they were not
worth keeping — lands which, for a long while, left
their cultivators half starved, and dependent on the
charity of those who admired what we must too
often call a fanatical zeal — even the extraordinary
benefit, I say, which they conferred on mankind by
thus clearing and cultivating, was small in com
parison with the advantages derived from them by
society, after they had become large proprietors,
landlords with more benevolence, and farmers with
more intelligence and capital, than any others.
One thing, however, is worthy of notice, as
showing that one eccentricity (I do not like to call
it a fault, or even a folly, though it seems likely to
be punished as a sin) of the church is not peculiar
to modern times, but at least as old as the beginning
of the twelfth century, — namely, that these ecclesias
tical landlords did not make so much of their
property as they might have done, or as would have
been made of it by the unprincipled and tyrannical
laymen by whom they were surrounded, and too
frequently robbed. I think we may infer, from
Peter's way of alluding to their mode of dealing
with their tenants, and those serfs over whom the
law gave them so great a power, that though, in
one sense, very careful of their property, they were
not careful, or had not the wisdom, to make the
most of it. I do not remember to have seen it
assigned as a reason for taking away their property,
but then (as philosophical historians say) we must
consider the spirit of the age. The conservative
power which offered the only opposition to brute
force in those days was an odd compound of

NO. XXIII.] IN THE DAEK AGES. 409
elements. Beside some codes of laws, more or less
comprehensive, and extending, with more or less
influence, over larger or smaller districts, they had
the Bible, and what was, or came to be, the Canon
law, and the testimony of history, a great deal of
superstition, perhaps some religion, and certainly
some (if but little) common sense and conscience,
all and each of which would have been separately
outraged by such a pretext; and they were so
blended together, that barefaced and comparatively
honest spoliation found it necessary to cut the knot
with brute force. It was not merely that fire and
sword did the work more speedily and effectually,
but men really had not learned how to meet the
spirit of the age, as (could it be revived) it would
now be met. People had not then learned that
" the lands of the church, destined for the support
of public servants, exhibited none of the characters
of property. They were inalienable, because it
would have been not less absurd for the priesthood
to have exercised such authority over these lands,
than it would be for seamen to claim the property
of a fleet which they manned, or soldiers that of a
fortress they garrisoned." 7 This is a recent dis
covery ; and indeed the illustration would not have
held good in the dark ages, when soldiers and sailors
received pay.
I must, however, add another extract from this
letter of Peter's, concerning his Bule, not merely to
show that he did not place all his religion in the
punctilios and pharisaical observance of it, but as
throwing light on the state and spirit of monastic

7 I extract this from a paper in the Congregational Magazine
for June [1837] p. 363, entitled, "Are the Lands occupied by the
Church of England the Property of its Members ? " As this has,
I believe, ever since its commencement, been considered as the
organ of the most educated part of the orthodox dissenters, the
discussion of such a subject in its pages is worth notice on many
accounts.

410 PETER THE VENERABLE [NO. XXIII.
institutions in his time, as well as the opinions of
men concerning them.
" You have said, ' St. Benedict framed his Rule either with or
without charity. But that he framed it without charity none of
you will dare to affirm, and therefore you do not deny that he
framed it with charity. Now, since the Rule was framed by
charity, it was not meant to be altered ; and if not to be altered,
then to be kept. Therefore you either act injuriously towards the
saint by changing it, or you keep it by entire obedience.' And to
this we reply — It is clear that the rule was framed by charity, but
it is not clear that on that account it is unalterable ; nay, from its
having been framed by charity, it follows that it may be altered.
And to make this evident, let us inquire into what is the office of
charity. And what is the office of charity ? The one and single
office of charity is to seek the salvation of men by all means. Our
Lord himself, the apostles, all the saints, cry aloud that this is its
office. All holy scripture, as I have already repeatedly said, testi
fies that whatsoever it commands is just ; and (what is a still
greater argument) the Lord has declared that on it hang all the
law and the prophets. This the apostle calls the fulfilling of the
law, and the end of the commandment. Of this St. Augustine
says, ' If this one thing be wanting, all things are vain ; if this
only be present, all are complete.' Of this, too, he says elsewhere,
' But the whole fruit is charity, without which, whatever else a
man may have, he is nothing.' And in another place, ' Have
charity, and do what ye will.' And therefore, to promote the
salvation of men, it doth what it will ; and if it be lawful for it to
do as it will, it was lawful for it to make a law, and lawful also to
change it. Nor can it be said that any injury is done to the saint,
for it is not altered by another ; but by that which, being shed
abroad in his heart by the Holy Spirit given to him, used him as
an instrument for the composition of that Rule. And since it
envieth not, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly,
seeketh not her own, those who are filled therewith know nothing
of such things ; and, being without envy, inflation, and ambition,
they know not how to take offence. No injury, then, is done to
the saint, for it made his Rule according to the circumstances of
that time, and when it saw it would be useful so to do, altered what
it had itself made, retaining whatever it seemed proper to retain.
And as it would be absurd to say that an injury was done to a
notary, if he who dictated any document to him should choose
afterwards, for some reason known perhaps to himself only, either
by his own or another's hand, to alter what he had written, so it
would be to say that St. Benedict is injuriously treated, if Charity
either by him, if she had so pleased, or by any other whom she
shall see fit to employ, should, on sufficient grounds, alter all or
any of the things which she originally wrote by him."
Surely such language is sufficient to clear the

NO. XXIII.] AN ANTIPAPAL WITNESS. 41 I
abbot of Clugni from the charge brought against
him ; is it not (to say the least) going as far as any
honest friend of expediency would venture to go ?
But though, from finding that other matter, which
I did not like to pass over, has taken up more room
than I expected, I have hitherto said nothing of the
more agreeable part of his correspondence with
Bernard and others, yet I hope to show, not merely
for his sake, but for the illustration of his age, that
he truly deserved his title of "-Venerable," by the
promotion of religion and learning.

I suppose that when I wrote this paper, I did
not recollect (for I had been obliged to do so much
with the book for other purposes, that I think I
must have seen it) that Beter the Venerable, who
appears in Milner's Church History as " so ignorant
and so trifling a writer," that he seems " to have
placed the essence of Christianity in frivolous
punctilios and insignificant ceremonies," had pre
viously figured, and was, of course, still figuring in
the Catalogus Testium Veritatis of Placius Illyricus,
as one of the witnesses against the Bomish Anti
christ. The passage which I have now given as a
motto to this paper is from the enlarged folio edition
of that work published in 1608. In the original
octavo edition of 1556, the passage stands, " Petrus
Cluniacensis, abbas, floruit ante 400, et paulo
amplius annos. In ejus epistolis quaadam ab
instituto nostro haudquaquam aliena invenio, qua?
adscribam," &c. As one object of these papers is
to show how Church History has been written, it
may not be useless to say a few words on this
matter. Of the dispute between Bernard and Beter, which
has occupied so many of these pages, Illyricus
professes to have known but little. " There was,
indeed," he says, " in the time of this man, a very
great contention between the Cluniacs and the

412 PETER THE VENERABLE [NO. XXIII.
Cistercians, during the life of a certain abbot of
theirs, Bernard, concerning some, I know not what,
tithes, of which the Cistercians wished to deprive
the Cluniacs. I do not know much about the con
troversy, and it is of very little consequence for our
purpose to understand it thoroughly." This candid
admission of ignorance is not retained by M. Simon
Goulart, the editor of the folio edition, but I believe
that he gives all the extracts from Peter's works
which were in the first edition, as well as a good
many more.
I will beg the reader's attention to one extract,
which, with its comment, appears in both editions ;
and for the sake of that I will set before him the
whole of Peter's letter, for it is not very long. I
will mark by brackets that part which is extracted
by Illyricus.
" To the supreme Pontiff, and our special Father, the Lord Pope
Eugenius, Brother Peter the lowly Abbot of the brethren of
Clugni, sends devout obedience with sincere affection.
" I am troublesome, no doubt, in writing to you so often ; but I
am afraid that continual apologies for it would only make me still
more troublesome. What shall I do then ? If I am silent, I shall
injure myself and many others ; and if I speak I shall be, as I
have said, tiresome. But of these alternatives I will choose the
latter. I had rather (saving the reverence due to your paternal
character) appear loquacious or officious in your eyes than remain
silent respecting many things which ought not to be concealed from
you. What I am about to speak of is not, indeed, my own busi
ness ; yet how is it quite alien from me, if it is in anywise yours ?
But it is your business to hear the causes of the whole Church of
God that is on its pilgrimage in this vale of tears, when heard to
discuss them, and when discussed to decide with apostolical
judgment. And although your high office is appointed8 over 'the
nations, and over kingdoms to root up, and to pull down, and to
waste and to destroy, and to build and to plant,' yet as you are not
God, nor- Jeremiah the Prophet to whom this was addressed, you
may be led into error. You may be deceived by those who seek
their own and not the things which are Jesus Christ's. That this
may not happen it is the duty of every faithful son to communicate

8 This is, I believe, the true rendering of " Et licet persona
vestra constituta sit."

NO. XXIII.] AN ANTIPAPAL WITNESS. 413
to his father what he knows, and you perhaps do not know ; and to
take all such measures as are in his power to prevent those of
whom it is written ' the poison of asps is under their lips ' from
infecting your purity with their poison. For it is no small gift of
God to be delivered from such ; especially when the well-known
Psalm says, ' 0 Lord, deliver my soul from wicked lips and a
deceitful tongue.'9 But how is this — perhaps I am again running
on too much, still guilty of the very fault for which I have just
apologised. I restrain my pen therefore ; and when I wish, and
think I ought, to say a great deal, I will briefly state the point at
which this introduction aims. For there is one point in particular,
though it is not the only one. This I will now state, and reserve
the others for their proper time.
" How much I have loved, and do love, the regulations of the
Carthusian Order and system, how I reverence, how I embrace
them, many know ; but I more, God most of all. For if my own
soul does not deceive me, if my conscience bears witness to me of
the truth, if in fact the divine word is true, which says, ' No man
knoweth the things of a man save the spirit of a man that is in
him,' I confess that for now nearly thirty years, that is, even from
before the time when I became Abbot, I have loved the Order,
revered the sincerity, embraced the truth of the Carthusians* more
than almost all other mortals. [I thought, and I do not believe I
was wrong, that their's was the best of all the Latin systems ; and
that they were not of those who strain at the gnat and swallow the
camel ; that is, who make void the commandment of God for the
traditions of men ; and, tithing mint, and anise, and cummin, and
(according to one evangelist) every herb, neglect the weightier
matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith. For they do not
consider the kingdom of God as consisting principally in meats and
drinks, in garments, in labours, and the like, though these, wisely-
managed, may do that kingdom of God good service ; but in that
godliness of which the apostle says, ' Bodily exercise is profitable
to little, but godliness is profitable to all things, having promise of
the life that now is, and of that which is to come.']1 — Those truly

9 Ps. cxx. 2.
1 The passage enclosed in these brackets is that quoted by
Illyricus ; and the remark which he appends is curious, coming
as it does from one of the most fiercely zealous, not to say
ferocious, of the protestant party in the sixteenth century.
"Whence it may be understood that even then there were some
monks who made the whole of religion consist in a superstitious
observation of days, meats, garments, and gestures ; but that
this father and others of a sounder description, were very far
from holding that opinion " — ex quibus licet cognoscere jam tum
quosdam monachos in superstitiosa dierum, ciborum, vestium ac
gestuum observatione pietatis summam constituisse : sed hunc patrem,
aliosque saniores longissime ab ea opinione fuisse.

414 PETER THE VENERABLE [NO. XXIII.
holy men feast at the table of wisdom, they are entertained at the
banquet of the true Solomon, not in superstitions, not in hypocrisy,
not in vanities, not in the leaven of malice and wickedness, but in
the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. They are great,
therefore, to be loved, to be embraced. And what shall I say ?
Against my will I state what I feel ; forced by conviction, I say
what I would not. I seem as if I were touching the ark of God,
and as Uzzah of old, when the oxen were unruly, upholding it with
a presumptuous hand. But I am not presumptuous ; I am not, as
concerning this matter, worthy of death as he was ; for I am
secured by His words who has said, ' If thine eye be single thy
whole body shall be full of light.' I will speak therefore without
more delay. May the father grant a favourable ear to the words
of his son ; and not suspect them of concealing anything crafty or
deceitful ; for as I remember, in a letter I lately addressed to your
highness (sublimitati vestra;'), I said I would as soon die as tell you
a falsehood.2 In the matter of the Grenoble election which is still
agitated, it seems to me that a sudden whirlwind has destroyed the
serene day of the Carthusian Order ; and a little cloud, that has
risen up I know not whence, has obscured the hitherto crystalline
splendour. It is divided against itself, and the holy congregation,
which up to this time has been more remarkably than others, one
in Christ, is by this business engaged in intestine feud. Hence
Chartreuse, Excubia?, Durbonum, hence Porte, Majorevum, Sylva,
Alverium,3 and if there be any other places belonging to that
sacred order, stand as diverse walls ; and one party, as well as the
other, profess according to the Prophet to go up ' for the house of
Israel to stand in battle for the day of the Lord.' One party says,
that the person elected ought not to be a bishop ; and puts forth
certain reasons which it is not my place to repeat. On the con
trary others say — ' What is that to you ? It is a rule of the
Carthusian Order to give information of anything wrong which it
may happen to know, to those whom it concerns ; but not to be
litigious. Their part is to state what they think in simplicity, but
not to get into palaces to gossip. It does not belong to our wild
solitude that we should be attending courts of justice ; it is not
the business of those who are dead to the world to be plaintiffs and
defendants in public business. Our simplicity has nothing to do
2 This refers to a letter in defence of the Archbishop of Vienne,
in which he had said, " Novit Pater, ut credo, filii cor : novit si
recordatur, qua? ei Antisiodori, vel apud Barum secreto suggessi ;
quod pene idem esset, quantum in libro conscientise mete legere
poteram, vobis mentiri quod mori." — Lib. VI. Ep. x. Bib. Clun.
col. 903.
3 I suppose the Pope knew what all these places were ; but as I
do not (except Chartreuse itself, and that I suppose Porta? to mean
Portes Chartreuses some leagues to the n.n.w. of that place) I do
not attempt a translation.

NO. XXIII.] TO POPE EUGENIUS III. 415
with worldly craft ; nor is it becoming that we who, while we were
in the world, chose the desert, should now return from the desert
to the world. But if it is not becoming to return even when drawn
thither, is it becoming to thrust ourselves into courts of justice of
our own free will, everybody opposing, everybody protesting
against it ? ' This is the cause, not indeed of open quarrel, but of
secret grudge among the holy men ; which would be better known
to our Father if I could speak, as well as write to your majesty
(majestati vestrm). For there are some things which I do not like
to commit to writing ; but them, as I did not think fit to write
them, I have placed in the mouth of our beloved brother and your
son Arnald, that they may be imparted to you."
Is it not really strange, that at a distance of
seven hundred years one should be occupied in
refuting two such opposite statements, against a
man well known in his day, and whose works are
still extant and accessible to all moderately-educated
persons ? "Was the person who was thus writing to
the Pope a heartless formalist, or a witness against
the Bomish Antichrist ? Or was he neither ? and
what was he ?

416

No. XXIV.
" Scriptores recta linea
Veraces scribant literas,
Distinctiones proprias
Usque in finem compleant." Petrus Damiani.
Considbeing that he appears to have felt no reluct
ance to speak on the subject, I wish that the
Secretary Nicholas had given us a fuller account of
himself; and, indeed, that I had the means of
referring to all that he actually did write. He was,
I imagine, a very extraordinary person ; and, at all
events, he had very peculiar opportunities of gaining,
not only all the learning which was to be had in the
twelfth century, but a vast deal of information
which would be most curious and interesting. In a
letter to Henry, Count of Champagne, written about
the year 1170, he says, "From my youth I have
pleased great men, and the chief princes of this
world. But to you in particular, by right of
dominion, I owe all that I am, and, by duty of
friendship, all that I can.1 And a wise man has
said, ' Principibus placuisse viris non ultima laus est.' " 2

1 So Mabillon understands him to mean by " Tibi singulariter,
ex dominio naturas debeo quicquid sum, et ex officio amicitiae quic
quid possum."
2 Baluz. Misc. ii. 236. It may seem odd to find Nicholas
quoting Horace under such a respectful title, especially if we con
sider that, according to the customs of Clugny, under which he
was brought up, he could never have asked for his works without a
most significant, though somewhat comic, expression of contempt
for the author. To preserve silence, the monks communicated by
signs, by which they were taught to express almost everything
which they could wish to say. Of course, there was a sign for

NO. XXIV.] PETRUS CELLENSIS. 41 7
Indeed, this seems to have been the case with
Nicholas, in an extraordinary degree ; for though
strong feeling and ardent expression are very
striking features in the letters of the Dark Ages, yet
I know of no man whose correspondents seem to
have loved him with more ardent affection. One of
those friends was Beter, Abbot of Moutier-la-Celle,
by Troyes (a monastery which I have already had
occasion to mention at p. 368), who has from that
circumstance retained the name of " Cellensis,"
though he afterwards succeeded our countryman
John of Salisbury as Bishop of Chartres. A speci
men may be taken from one of his letters : —
" Whenever you write, your letters are composed with an
admirable relish to meet my eager appetite. So that (to say the
truth to a true friend) it seems as if it might almost be said of
them as a peculiar characteristic, ' They that eat me, shall yet
hunger ; and they that^drink me, shall yet thirst.' (Ecclus. xxiv.
29.) I, however, unskilful as I am as to style in answering, know
how to return your affection. I know whom I ought to love, and
why, and how much, and how long. Whom, if not the servant of
God; if not him who loveth righteousness and hateth iniquity ; if
not, in short, him who abideth in God, and God in him ? Why, if
not because he is a fellow servant, and a brother, and one for whom
Christ suffered ? How much, if not as much as the Son of God
hath loved me, as much as myself, as much as the hand loves the
eye? How long, if not until death, if not through all ages,
through all eternity, and beyond it ? This is the common feeling
of those who seek not their own, but the things of Jesus Christ •
and who being filled with charity and love, lie down or feed at noon
in the chambers, or in the gardens of spices." 3

" a book.'' " Pro generali signo libri, extende manum et move
sicut folium libri moveri solet." This general sign being made,
another was added to distinguish the sort of book wanted ; and
there were distinct signs for the Missal, the Gospels, the Epis
tolary, the Psalter, the Rule, and so on ; but to distinguish a
book written by a heathen, the monk was to scratch his ear
like a dog. " Pro signo libri saecularis, quern aliquis paganus
fecit, prsemisso generali signo libri, adde ut aurem tangas digito
sicut canis cum pede pruriens solet, quia nee immerito infideles
tali animanti comparantur." — Mart, de Antiq. Mon. Rit. 885.
s Ep. Lib. iv. ep. iii. ap. Sirmondi Op. iii. 734. B E

418 Nicholas's scriptoriolum. [no. xxiv.
This was Peter's phrase for living in a monastery ;
but it is more to our purpose to state how Nicholas
lived in his ; and particularly to transcribe his
sketch of what he calls his Scriptoriolum, or little
writing-cell, a retired apartment, shut in and con
cealed on every side by the various parts of the
monastery : —
" Its door opens into the apartment of the novices, where com
monly a great number of persons, distinguished by rank as well as
by literature, put on the new man in newness of life  On
the right, the cloister of the monks runs off, in which the more
advanced part of the community walk  There, under the
strictest discipline, they individually open the books of divine
eloquence, not that they may winnow forth the treasures of know
ledge, but that they may elicit love, compunction, and devotion.
From the left projects the infirmary, and the place of exercise
(deambulatorium) for the sick, where their bodies, wearied and
weakened by the severities of the rule, are refreshed with better
food ; until, being cured, or at least in better health, they may
rejoin the congregation, who labour and pray, who do violence
to the kingdom of heaven, and take it by force. And do not
suppose that my little tenement is to be despised ; for it is a
place to be desired, and pleasant to look upon, and comfortable
for retirement. It is filled with most choice and divine books,
at the delightful view of which I feel contempt for the vanity
of this world, considering that, ' vanity of vanities, all is vanity,'
and that nothing is more vain than vanity itself. This place is
assigned to me for reading, and writing, and composing, and
meditating, and praying, and adoring the Lord of majesty."
It was not as a common scribe or writing monk
that Nicholas occupied this apartment, but because
he was my lord abbot's secretary, and conducted
his extensive and important correspondence, of
which I hope to say more presently ; but in the
meantime I am irresistibly led to say something
about the scriptoria of monasteries in the Dark
Ages. I am inclined to suppose, that at a period some
what later than that to which I generally refer, the
writing performed in monasteries was carried on in
small apartments or cells, which could not (perhaps
at all, or at any rate without inconvenience) contain
more than one person ; and that, owing to such a

NO. XXIV.] MONASTIC SCRIPTORIA. 419
use being so generally made of them, — that is,
owing to the great quantity of writing, the number
of hands engaged in it, and the places occupied by
it, — owing, in short, to its being, the chief and
almost only in-doors business of a monk out of
church, — cells, or small rooms, or even larger apart
ments, which had no other particular name or use,
were commonly called scriptoria, even when not
actually used, or particularly intended, for the
purpose of writing. Thus we are told that Arnold,
Abbot of Villers, in Brabant, from a.d. 1240 to
1250, when he resigned his office, occupied a, scripto
rium, where he lived as a private person in his own
apartment. In fact, it seems to have been a custom, princi
pally and perhaps exclusively in the Cistercian
order, to grant such cells as a privilege to certain
monks for their private study or amusement.4
Jacobus, a successor of Arnold, who became abbot
in the year 1276, made scriptoria round the calefac
tory, and his immediate successor added two,
adjoining the house of the sacrist.5 The former was
the better place, undoubtedly ; as the scribes
probably obtained some benefit from the apartment,
which was heated on purpose that the monks might
go there to warm themselves. Many a scribe has,
I dare say, felt what Lewis, a monk of Wessobrunn
in Bavaria, records as his own experience during his
sedentary and protracted labours. In an inscription
appended to a copy of Jerome's commentary on
Daniel, among other grounds on which he claims the
sympathy and the prayers of the reader, he says —
" Dum scripsit friguit, et quod cum lumine solis
Scribere non potuit, perfecit lumine noctis." 6
4 " Monachi quibus ad studendum vel recreandum scriptoria
conceduntur, in ipsis scriptoriis non maneant illis horis quibus
monachi in claustro residere tenentur, &c." — Stat, selecta Cap.
Gen. Ord. Cisterc. a.d. 1278, ap. Mart. iv. 1462.
8 Mart. iii. 1298.
6 Pez, Thes. Anec. Noviss. Diss. Tsag. in torn. i. p. 20.

420 MONASTIC [NO. XXIV.
I do not take upon me to say that these cells were
warmed by hot air from the stove in the calefactory,
though that is not so completely a modern invention
as some people may think. The monks in the Dark
Ages were not quite incapable of conceiving and
executing such an idea ; and it is not going out of
our way to mention a proof, which has a moral
beauty, far more valuable than its evidence respect
ing their knowledge and ingenuity. "When Bernard,
owing to the illness produced by his early austerities,
was compelled by the Bishop of Chalons to retire to
a cell, he could not be persuaded so far to relax the
severity of his asceticism as to allow any fire, or
even fire-place, in it. His friends, with pious fraud
(if there ever was such a thing), contrived to heat
his apartment without his knowing it, by introducing
hot air through the stone floor under his bed.7
But the scriptorium of earlier times was obviously
an apartment capable of containing many persons ;
and in which many persons did, in fact, work
together, in a very business-like manner, at the
transcription of books. The first of these points is
implied in a very curious document, which is one of
the very few extant specimens of French Wisigothic
MS. in uncial characters, and belongs to the eighth
century. It is a short form of consecration, or
benediction, barbarously entitled, " Orationem in
Scripturio," and is to the following effect — "Vouch
safe, 0 Lord, to bless this scriptorium of thy
servants, and all that dwell therein; that whatsoever
sacred writings shall be here read or written by them,
they may receive with understanding, and bring the
same to good effect, through our Lord," &c.8

' Voy. Lit. p. 99.
8 Nouv. Tr. de Diplom. iii. 190. See also Du Cange in v.
Scriptorium, and the supplement in v. Scripturium ; why the
authors of this supplement should say that it is given in the two
other places " ipsismet verbis " I do not know. I here follow Du
Cange's text, " opere perficiant," instead of the other, " ore
percipiant."

NO. XXIV.J SCRIPTORIA. 42]
That the scriptorium was larger than a mere cell,
is also obvious from an anecdote of the ninth
century, which is very well worth transcribing on
many accounts, though I confess that it has been
brought to my mind on this occasion by what has
just been said of the scriptorium and calefactory in
juxtaposition. Ekkekard, junior, the historian of
the monastery of St. Gall, who wrote in the earlier
half of the eleventh century, after a chapter con
cerning Solomon, who had been abbot in the latter
part of the ninth century, — another chapter respect
ing Magister Iso, a monk of the same monastery,
and a " doctor nominatissimus," who had that
Solomon, together with Notker, Tutilo, Batpert,
and some others, for his pupils, — and further telling
us how the latter three of the pupils just named
somewhat grudged at the more indulgent treatment
which Solomon received from their master (" delica-
tius quasi canonicum educaverat," — a monkish hit),
— and further still how this old grudge had led to
some unpleasant collisions after Solomon had risen
to be Bishop of Constance, while his three school
fellows remained still mere monks of St. Gall's,
proceeds : —
" These having been thoroughly instructed in divine things by
Iso, became (as I have said) scholars of Marcellus ; who, being
equally versed in sacred and secular learning, taught them the
seven liberal arts, but especially music, which being more natural
than the rest, and though more difficult in the learning yet more
pleasant in the use, they made such progress therein as may bo
seen by their respective works, of which I have already said
something. But these three, though of one heart, were yet, as
sometimes happens, very different persons.
" Notker was weak in body, not in mind ; and in speech, not
in spirit, a stammerer. In spiritual things firm, in adversity
patient, mild to all, a severe disciplinarian, timorous in any sudden
alarm, except of demons, whom he used to combat manfully. In
ornamenting, reading, and composing, assiduous ; and, briefly to
comprehend all his sacred endowments, he was a vessel of the Holy
Spirit not less eminently than anyone of his time.
" But Tutilo was very different. He was a good and useful
man ; as to his arms and all his limbs, such as Fabius teaches us
to choose for a wrestler. He was eloquent, with a fine voice,

422 NOTKER, TUTILO, [NO. XXIV.
skilful in carving, and a painter. A musician, like his companions;
but in all kinds of stringed and wind instruments (for in a place
appointed by the abbot he taught the children of the nobility to
play on stringed instruments), he excelled everybody. In building
and in his other arts he was eminent. He was, by nature, powerful,
and ready at singing in either language ; cheerful, whether in jest
or in earnest ; so that Charles [the Gross] once cursed him for
making a monk of such a person. But, with all this, what is of
more consequence, he was powerful in the choir, and in secret
given to tears, very skilful in making verses and melodies. Chaste
as a disciple of Marcellus, who shut his eyes against women.
" Batpert was, however, something between the two whom I
have mentioned. He had been the schoolmaster from his youth, a
straightforward, kind teacher, very strict in discipline , more rarely
than any of his brethren putting his foot out of the cloister, and
making one pair of shoes last a twelvemonth. He said that going
out was destruction ; and frequently admonished Tutilo, who was
given to travelling, to mind what he was about. Fully occupied in
the schools, he commonly neglected the services and mass ; ' for,'
said he, ' we hear good masses while we are teaching how they
should be performed.' And although he used to say that impunity
was the greatest disgrace of a monastery, yet he never came to the
chapter unless he was sent for ; because, as he observed, that most
painful office of reproving and punishing was laid upon him.
" Such being three of the senators of our republic, they were, as
happens to all learned and useful men, exposed to the detraction
and backbiting of the idle and frivolous ; and chiefly the holy
Notker (as I may truly call him), because he took less pains to
contradict it. Tutilo and Batpert, indeed, who dealt more harshly
with such persons, and did not take injuries so patiently, were less
frequently attacked ; but Notker, who was the meekest of men,
learned by his own experience to know what such injuries were ; of
which I wish to introduce one, that you may learn by a single
instance how far Satan presumes in such things.
"There was a monk named Sindolf, who was the Refectorarius ;*
but at length, with feigned obsequiousness (his only merit) telling
lies of the brethren, Solomon made him clerk of the works (decanus
operariorum). While he was refectorary, however, he made him
self as annoying as he dared, particularly to Notker. Solomon,
however, being much occupied, and unable to attend to everything,
when it sometimes happened that the food of the brethren was
deficient or bad, many exclaimed against the injustice ; and it
appeared that, among others, the three whom I have mentioned
had. said something.
" Sindolf, who was always making mischief, knowing the cause

9 That is, it was his duty to superintend the refectory, and see
that all things belonging to it were properly provided and taken
care of.

NO. XXIV.] RATPERT, AND SINDOLF. 423
and origin of the old grudge on the part of these companions, got
the ear of Solomon, as if he was going to inform him of something
in which his honour was concerned ; and he, though he knew that
nothing is more mischievous to bishops than listening to the
whispers of their inferiors, inquired what news he had to communi
cate. On this Sindolf falsely told him that those three were always
talking against him, and that the day before they had said such
things as must be intolerable to God. He believed these tales,
and bore malice against those who thought no ill, and at length he
showed it. They, however, not being able to learn from him what
was the ground of offence, guessed that they had been brought into
it by some trick of Sindolf. The matter being at length discussed
among the brethren, when they, with the concurrent testimony of
all the rest, proved that they had said nothing against the bishop,
everyone called for justice against the false informer ; but as the
bishop would not give him up, they silently acquiesced.
" It was the invariable custom of these three, by permission of
the prior, to meet in the night in the interval before lauds1 in the
scriptorium, and to discourse together on such scriptural subjects
as were most suited to such an hour. Sindolf, knowing the time
and the fact of these conversations, went out one night and came
privily to the glass window against which Tutilo was sitting, and,
applying his ear to it, listened to catch something which he might
carry in a perverted form to the bishop. Tutilo, who had become
aware of it, and who was a sturdy man, with full confidence in the
strength of his arms, spoke to his companions in Latin, that
Sindolf, who did not understand that language, might not know
what he said. ' There he is,' said he, ' and he has put his ear to
the window ; but do you, Notker, who are timorous, go out into
the church; and you, my Batpert, catch up the whip of the
brethren which hangs in the calefactory,2 and run out; for when I
know that you have got near to him, I will open the window as
suddenly as possible, catch him by the hair, drag in his head, and
hold it tight ; but do you, my friend, be strong and of a good
courage, and lay the whip on him with all your might, and take
vengeance for God on him.'
" Batpert, who was always most alert in matters of discipline,
went softly, and catching up the whip ran quickly out, and came
down with all his might like a hailstorm on the back of Sindolf,
whose head was dragged in at the window. He, however, struggling
with his arms and legs, contrived to get and to keep hold of the
whip ; on which Batpert, catching up a stick which he saw at
hand, laid on him most lustily. When he found it vain to beg for
mercy, ' I must,' said he, ' cry out ' ; and he roared vociferously.

1 As to the mode of spending that interval required by the rule
of St. Benedict, see Martene in cap. viii. p. 249.
2 Here called Pyrale. He afterwards says that it was adjoining
to the scriptorium, " proximum pyrali scriptorium," cap. xi. p. 52.

424 NOTKER, TUTILO, RATPEKT, AND SINDOLF. [NO. XXIV.
Part of the monks, astounded at hearing such a voice, at such an
unwonted time, came running with lights, and asking what was
the matter. Tutilo kept crying out that he had caught the devil,
and begging them to bring a light, that he might more clearly see
whose "" shape he had assumed ; and turning the head of his
reluctant prisoner to and fro, that the spectators might the better
judge, he asked with affected ignorance whether it could be Sindolf?
All declaring that it certainly was, and begging that he would let
him go, he released him, saying, 'Wretch that I am, that I should
have laid hands on the intimate and confidant of the bishop 1 '
Batpert, however, having stepped aside on the coming up of the
monks, privately withdrew, and the sufferer could not find out who
had beaten him."3
I do not undertake to defend all Tutilo's proceed
ings in this affair ; especially his going on to
persuade the monks that the flagellator, who had
performed so strenuously, and then suddenly
vanished, must have been an angel. Notker, it will
be observed, had nothing to do with the business,
and Batpert was merely executive in the way of his
calling ; but, without canvassing the matter too
strictly, I am content to feel as a Swedish clergyman
did, when a friend of mine, who happened to have
been present at the service in his church, remon
strated against what appeared to him to be a prayer
that ships might be wrecked on their coast. The
good priest assured him, that it was no such thing,
and that they were not such wretches as to harbour
any wish of the kind ; but only prayed, that if ships
were to be wrecked, they might have the benefit of
it. In like manner, though I doubt the lawfulness
of wishing that any Christian man should either
give or take such a beating as Sindolf received, yet
if somebody was to have it, I am glad that it fell to
his share ; and that not so much for his dirty tricks
which have been just mentioned, as for a villany
which I unaccountably omitted to notice in a former
paper, where it would have been more in place. I
had him* (that is, a memorandum of him), literally
3 Ekkehardus Jun. de Casib. Mon. S. Galli. ap. Gold. Ser. Ber.
Alem. i. 24 et Ekkardus Minimus in vita Notkeri, ibid. 226.

NO. xxiv.] notker's GREEK EPISTLES. 425
pinned down to my desk much longer than Tutilo
held him at the window, but somehow he escaped.
"What do you think he did ? Why, when Notker,
with great labour and pains (multis sudoribus), had
made a fair copy of the Canonical Epistles in Greek
— having borrowed them for that purpose from
Luitward, Bishop of Vercelli — " behold, Sindolf,
now (as I have said) a great man, and of much
consequence in the place [for it was in consideration
of the beating that the bishop preferred him to be
the decanus operariorum], lighting by chance on that
delicately written book, carried it off, and having
cut out all the leaves, tore and spoiled them, as is
to be seen at this day, and then folded them up,
and put them where he found them." 4 What do
you think of that ? Would a second edition of
Batpert's performance have been half enough for
such a villany ?
The scriptorium where these three friends used to
meet was obviously something very different from
what we now call a cell, or what is now sometimes
described or shown as a writing-place of the old
times. And I doubt not that the twelve expert
scribes, to whom, as I have already said,5 the Abbot
of Hirschau committedvthe work of transcribing the
Holy Scriptures and the writings of the fathers, as
well as the indefinite number of inferior scribes,
worked in company. Indeed, if we were always to
understand that the scribe was sitting alone, it
would be difficult to comprehend the direction of
the general chapter of the Cistercian Order held in
a.d. 1134, directing that the same silence should be
maintained in the scriptorium as in the cloister.6
The same thing appears from the Abbot Heriman's

4 Ekk. Jun. ubi sup. p. 29.
5 No. XIX. p. 347.
6 " In omnibus scriptoriis ubicunque ex consuetudine Monachi
scribunt, silentium teneatur sicut in Claustro." — Cap. lxxxvii. ap.
Nomast. Cisterc. 272.

426 ALULFUS'S GREGORIALIS. [NO. XXIV.
account of the restoration of St. Martin's at Tournay.
He was himself the third abbot, and he tells us
that his predecessor, Odo, who has been already
mentioned (p. 73) as the first, and who entered on
that office about the year 1093, showed himself no
good manager in temporal things, and was glad to
confide the management of them to Balph the Brior,
who showed peculiar talent and zeal in such
matters : —
" In which the abbot greatly rejoiced, and used to thank God,
who had given him a man that had relieved him from the anxiety
and bustle of worldly affairs. For, committing to him the whole
charge of the external affairs of our monastery, he gave himself up
so entirely to the duties of a monk, and to silence, that frequently
he did not go out of the monastery for a month together, but, being
devoted to reading, he took the utmost pains to promote the
writing of books. He used, in fact, to exult in the number of
writers which the Lord had given him ; for if you had gone into
the cloister, you might in general have seen a dozen young monks
sitting on chairs in perfect, silence, writing at tables carefully
and artificially constructed. All Jerome's Commentaries on the
Prophets, all the works of St. Gregory, and everything that he
could find of St. Augustine, Ambrose, Isidore, Bede, and the Lord
Anselm, then Abbot of Bee, and afterwards Archbishop of Canter
bury, he caused to be diligently transcribed. So that you would
scarcely have found such a library at any monastery in that part of
the country, and everybody was begging for our copies to correct
their own. Our monastery was at that time in great reputation,
and in a high state of discipline ; for in the whole province of
Bheims there were at that period only three monasteries which
followed the customs of Clugni — namely, Anchin, Afflighem, and
our own. The monastery of Clugni at that time excelled all others
belonging to the kingdom of the Francs in monastic order ; for the
rigour of the Cistercians had not then sprung up, and the Lord
Norbert had not as yet been heard of." 7

7 Herimanni Narratio Best. Abb. S. Martini Torn. § 79 ap.
Dach. Spicileg. ii. 913. One of the original companions of Odo
was Godfrey, who was, says Heriman, " a very skilful scribe, and
left many manuscripts in our church — namely, the Morals of St.
Gregory on Job in six volumes, an excellent history, which,
beginning at the Proverbs, contains the prophets, the Acts of the
Apostles, and the Epistles, a missal from which each mass is every
day performed in the convent, a copy of the gospels, Augustine on
the City of God, and his Enchiridion, and many other books which

NO. XXIV.] HAND-WRITING AND THE PRESS. 427
I do not wish unnecessarily to multiply instances
or illustrations which must possess a sameness of
character that may render them tedious ; but there
is one idea which I am very desirous to impress on
the reader, as applying generally to the whole
subject. We are, on the one hand, familiar with the press;
used to see its rapid multiplication, and filled with
the idea of its almost unlimited powers — we are, on
the other, but little accustomed to read any large
mass of manuscript, or to write continuously any
thing which could be called a book — we can, more
over, set the press in motion so easily, and so
cheaply, that even a third-rate shopkeeper who is
advertising simply because he has nothing to do,
would not think of writing a hundred circular letters
— the question, how much an expert scribe could
write in a given time is so seldom presented to our
thoughts, that we feel scarcely able to give any
opinion — we almost lose sight of the fact, that all
the books which are printed have been written (and,
if worth printing, more than once written) by their
authors — we hardly realize the idea which our
words express when we say that an author "wrote"
such and such works, which were afterwards pub
lished in so many volumes folio — and further,
though it would not call for the reading, the think-

may be easily distinguished as his by the handwriting," § 76, p.
912. One of the first who joined Odo was Alulfus, who was,
during forty-seven years afterwards, the armarius or librarian of
the convent. " He frequently read over all the works of St.
Gregory; and, in imitation of Paterius, extracting all the passages
of the Old and New Testament which he had expounded, he made
three volumes, to which he added a fourth, consisting of miscel
laneous and very useful sentences, and entitled the whole work
Gregorialis." § 38. It may interest the reader to know, that
several MSS. of this period, and this monastery, and in all
probability the identical works written in Odo's scriptorium, and in
particular the fourth volume (apparently the autograph) of
Alulfus's Gregorialis, are now the property of my learned friend
Dr. Todd, of Trinity College, Dublin.

428 HAND-WRITING AND THE PRESS. [NO. XXIV.
ing, the correcting, the rewriting, or any of the
intellectual labour which not only produced the
most fatigue, but took up the most time, yet would
not you feel rather unwilling to undertake such a
job as merely writing out a copy of Archbishop
Ussher's works, or Lord Bacon's ?
Thus, I suspect, we are apt to be led into error
when we think we are comparing the respective
powers of hand-writing and the press. Not perhaps
into theoretical error, for, without forming anything
like a theory, we may say at once that the things
are not to be compared at all; seeing that the power
of multiplication by the press exceeds that of the
slower process of hand-writing out of all proportion.
But we are liable to practical error, because we are
apt not to consider the different degree in which
those powers are put out. The press does a great
deal, and it might do a great deal more. It could
easily as far outdo its present self, as it now outdoes
manuscription ; but it has never been, and most
likely never will be, called on to do this ; and the
probability (almost certainty) is, that in proportion
as it approximates to anything like it, the works
which it produces will have less and less connexion
with learning. I believe that the history of printing
will bear me out in this ; and we come, I think,
fairly to the idea that, although the power of multi
plication at work in the Dark Ages was infinitely
below that which now exists, and even the whole
actual produce of the two periods not to be compared,
yet, as it regards those books which were considered
as the standard works in sacred and secular litera
ture, the difference was not so extreme as may have
been supposed. Berhaps I may illustrate my mean
ing by asking what proportion the copies of
Gregory's "Morals," or Augustine's "City of God,"
printed between the years 1700 and 1800, bear to
those written between the years 1100 and 1200.
But, as I have said, we have perhaps a very
imperfect idea of what may be done by the labour

NO. XXIV.] OTHLONUS, A WRITER. 429
of an individual. We must think of writing as a
business ; as one generally taken up by choice, and
very commonly pursued with a degree of zeal and
indefatigable perseverance, which in the present
day seems almost incredible. We find notices on
the subject, which appear to me very interesting ;
and the point is so important to our getting a clear
idea of the matter which is now in hand, that I will
mention two.
Othlonus, a monk of St. Bmmeram's, at Batisbon,
was born about the year 1013 ; and in his book,
"De ipsius tentationibus, varia fortuna, et scriptis,"
he has given us an account of his literary labours,
and of the circumstances which led to his writing
the various works of his which we possess. Of his
original compositions, however, it is not to our
present purpose to speak; but, after enumerating
a good many, and saying, , " As the Lord com
manded the Daamoniac in the gospel to go to his
own house, and show how great things God had
done for him, I also would relate how great benefits
God has vouchsafed to me," he goes on —
" For the same reason I think it proper to add an account of
the great knowledge and capacity for writing which was given me
by the Lord in my childhood. When as yet a little child, I was
sent to school, and quickly learned my letters ; and I began, long
before the usual time of learning, and without any order from the
master, to learn the art of writing. But in a furtive and unusual
manner, and without any teacher, I attempted to learn that art.
From this circumstance I got a habit of holding my pen in a wrong
manner ; nor were any of my teachers afterwards able to correct
me in that point ; for I had become too much accustomed to it to
be capable of altering. Many who saw this unanimously decided
that I should never write well; but, by the grace of God, it turned
out otherwise, as is known to many persons. For, even in my
childhood, and at the time when, together with the other boys, the
tablet was put into my hands, that I might learn to write, it
appeared that I had some notion of writing, to the no small
surprise of those who saw it. Then, after a short time, I began to
write so well, and was so fond of it, that in the place where I
learned, that is, in the monastery of Tegernsee [in Bavaria, almost
in a line between Munich and Innspruck], I wrote many .books.
And being sent into Franconia while I was yet a boy, I worked so

430 OTHLONUS, A WRITER. [NO. 'XXIV.
hard at writing while I was there, that before I returned I had
nearly lost my sight. This I resolved to mention, in the hope that
I may excite some others to a similar love of labour ; and that, by
recounting to others the grace of God which has granted to me
such benefits, I may lead them to magnify that grace of God with
me. And the better to do this, I think it proper to relate how I
laboured in writing afterwards, when I had returned from Franconia,
for I was there when the Emperor Henry died, and Conrad came
to the throne [in the year 1024].
" Then, after I came to be a monk in the monastery of St.
Emmeram, I was soon induced, by the request of some of them,
again to occupy myself so mueh in writing that I seldom got any
interval of rest, except on festivals, and at such times as work
could not be performed. In the meantime, there came more work
upon me ; for, as they saw that I was generally reading, or writing,
or composing, they made me the schoolmaster. By all which
things I was, through God's grace, so fully occupied, that I
frequently could not allow my body the necessary rest. And when
I had a mind to compose anything, I very commonly could not find
time for it, except on holydays, or by night, being tied down to the
business of teaching the boys, and the transcribing which I had
been persuaded to undertake. Therefore, beside the books which
I composed myself, which I wrote to give away for the edification
of those who asked for them, and of others to whom I gave them
unasked, I wrote nineteen missals — ten for the abbots and monks
in our own monastery, four for the brethren at Fulda, five for
those in other places ; three books of the Gospels, and two with
the Epistles and Gospels, which are called Lectionaries ; besides
which I wrote four service books for matins. Afterwards, old age
and infirmity of various kinds hindered me ; especially the tedious
interruption which lasted for a very long time through various
anxieties, and the grief which was caused by the destruction of our
monastery ; but to Him who is the Author of all good, and who
alone governs all things, and who has vouchsafed to give many
things to me unworthy, be praise eternal, be honour everlasting.
" I think it right also to relate, as far as I am able to recollect,
how many books I have given to different monasteries and friends;
and first I would mention the monks at Fulda, because, as I
worked a great deal in their monastery, writing many books which
I sent to our monastery, so in ours I wrote out some books which
they had not ; and, if I remember right, I sent them seven. To
the monks of Hirschfeld, two books ; and when I returned from
those parts and came to Amarbach, I gave one to the abbot of that
place. Afterwards, being under obligation to brother William, I
gave him four books, among which there was a very valuable
missal. To the abbot of Lorsch, one book; to certain friends
dwelling in Bohemia, four books ; to a friend at Passau, one book ;
to the monastery of Tegernsee, two books ; to the monastery of
Pryel, near us, one volume, in which were three books. And also

NO. XXIV.J DIBMUDIS, A WRITER. 431
I gave one book, and various epistles, to my sister's son, who was
living there. To the monastery of Obermunster I gave three
books; and to that of Nidermunster, one book. Moreover, to
many others I gave or sent, at different times, sermons, proverbs,
and edifying writings." 8
One would like to know what books they were
which Othlonus thus multiplied ; but this is perhaps
now impossible. With regard to another case,
however, which I have particular pleasure in pro
ducing, we are in no doubt. An anonymous monk
of Wessobrunn, a place already mentioned and also
in Bavaria, has preserved an account of a nun whose
labours quite eclipse those of Othlonus. The
historian, who seems to have begun his work in the
year 1513, says —
" Diemudis was formerly a most devout nun of this our monas
tery of Wessobrunn. For our monastery was formerly double, or
divided into two parts, — that is to say, of monks and nuns. The
place of the monks was where it -now is ; but that of the nuns
where the parish church now stands. This virgin was most skilful
in the art of writing. For though she is not known to have com
posed any work, yet she wrote with her own hand many volumes
in a most beautiful and legible character, both for divine service
and for the public library of the monastery, which are enumerated
in a list written by herself in a certain plenarius.9 For in that list
the following books pertaining to divine service are enumerated: —
A Missal, with the Gradual and Sequences.
Another Missal, with Gradual and Sequences, which was given
to the Bishop of Treves.
Another Missal, with the Epistles, Gospels, Gradual and
Sequences.
Another Missal, with the Epistles and Gospels for the whole
year ; and the Gradual and Sequences, and the entire Service
for Baptism.
A Missal, with Epistles and Gospels.
A Book of Offices.

8 Mab. Anal. iv. 448 (foi. ed. 119), Conf. B. Pez in Diss.
Isagog. in Tom. iii. Thes. Anecd. Noviss. p. x.
8 The writer probably means (as this term frequently does) a
missal containing, besides its proper contents, the Epistles and
Gospels ; but the word is used so variously, that it is impossible
to feel certain.

432 DIEMUDIS, A NUN [NO. XXIV.
Another Book of Offices, with the Baptismal Service, which was
given to the Bishop of Augsburgh.
A Book with the Gospels and Lessons.
A Book with the Gospels.
A Book with the Epistles.
These books she wrote, as I have said, for the use and ornament
of divine service. With the following she adorned our library, of
which only those that are marked thus § still remain there.1 For
the others have perished and are lost, either through the burning
of the monastery (which is said to have happened twice), or by
the negligence and sloth of subsequent monks; as the list already
mentioned specifies the following books belonging to the library: —
A Bible, in two volumes, which was given for the estate in
Pisinberch.
A Bible, in three volumes.
The Morals of St. Gregory [that is, his Commentary on Job],
in six volumes, the first and third of which are lost.
St. Gregory ad Eegaredum.2
St. Gregory on Ezechiel, and some other things, in one volume.
Sermons and Homilies of Ancient Doctors, three volumes.
Origen on the Old Testament.
 on the Canticles.
Augustine on the Psalms, iii. volumes.
— —  on the Gospel, and the first Epistle of St. John, ii.
volumes ; the first missing.
 Epistles, to the number of lxxv.
 Treatises, ' De verbis Domini,' ' De Sermone Domini
in Monte,' ' De opere Monachorum,' and ' De Agone Chris-
tiano,' ' De Adorando,' ' De Professione Viduitatis,' ' De
Bono Conjugali,' ' De Virginitate.'
St. Jerome's Epistles, to the number of clxiv.
The Tripartite History of Cassiodorus [that is, the compendium
of ecclesiastical history which he made, in the sixth century,
from Epiphanius's Latin Version of Socrates, Sozomen, and
Theodoret.]
Eusebius's Ecclesiastical History.
St. Augustine, Fifty Sermons; the Life of St. Silvester; Jerome
against Vigilantius, and ' De Consolatione Mortuorum ' ; The
Life of St. Blaise ; The Life of St. John the Almoner
[Patriarch of Alexandria early in the seventh century. I
presume, from the way in which they are put together, that
these formed only one volume, as also the following : — ]
1 I translate as it stands ; but I do not see that any books in the
list are so marked, or in any way distinguished from the others.
2 I do not know what this means ; but I am not so familiar with
Gregory's works as Alulfus was. I do not recollect that any of
them are addressed to anyone so named.

NO. XXIV.] OP WESSOBRUNN, A WRITER. 433
Paschasius on the Body and Blood of Christ ; The Conflict of
Lanfranc with Berengarius ; The Martyrdom of St. Dionysius;
The Life of St. Adrian, pope, &c.
St. Jerome ' De Hebraicis Qusestionibus,' and many other works
by him and by other writers.
St. Augustine's Confessions.
Canons.The Gloss, alphabetically arranged [I suppose this is meant by
' Glossa per A. B. C. composita.']
These are the volumes written with her own hand by the aforesaid
handmaid of God, Diemudis, to the praise of God and of the holy
apostles, Peter and Paul, the patrons of this monastery. But at
what period she lived I could never discover, since, in all the books
(we charitably hope from humility), she omitted to mention her
name and the time when she finished." 3
That, however, which her anonymous biographer
could not discover, Bez learned from a MS. account
of the Abbots of Wessobrunn, which he found in
the neighbouring monastery of Tegernsee. The
author of it states that Diemudis lived in the time
of Gregory VII. (who became pope in a.d. 1073),
and therefore, though probably somewhat younger,
she was contemporary with the monk of Batisbon,
whose labours I have just mentioned. The same
writer says, that Diemudis carried on a correspon
dence by very sweet letters (epistolse suaves valde)
with Herluca, who was for thirty-six years a nun at
Eppach, a mile (I suppose a German one) from
Wessobrunn ; and that the letters were then extant
in the monastery of Bernried. Bez, however, who
went there to look for them, could obtain no
information. Without giving any improper sanction
to the popish doctrine of transferred merit, may we
not allow this indefatigable " exaratrix " (as her
biographer calls her) to make up, in some degree,
for the deficiency of her pious founder, who has
been a standing jest among writers on the Dark
Ages, because he could not write his name ? 4
But readers will ask questions ; or, at least,

3 Pez Diss. Isagog. in Tom. i. Thesaur. Anecd. Novis. p.
* Of Tassilo, Duke of Bavaria, see No. II. p. 31.
P P

434 THE SECRETARY NICHOLAS. [NO. XXIV.
writers cannot help imagining it, especially when
they feel that they are at all discursive. Somebody
may say, " What has this to do with the Secretary
Nicholas ? " To which I answer — If the reader can
imagine him out of, and without reference to, a
scriptorium, well and good — it is more than I can
do ; and believing such powers of abstraction to be
very rare, I have thought it right, in introducing
him, to say a few words on that subject. Again, it
may be asked, " What had Nicholas to do with
Bernard's letters to Beter the Venerable? " To do
with them ? why everything : he wrote them ; he
carried them; he was the depository of the "verbum
secretum" which accompanied them, and which
correspondents frequently sent by the trusty messen
ger before post-offices came into fashion; he was the
connecting link between the abbots, the bosom
friend of both ; in short, he was a person worth
knowing, and I hope to make him better known.

435

No. XXV.
" Amantium ira? amoris integratio est." — Lat. Gram.
" Is it thus that you think fit to joke ? " says
Bernard to his friend Beter of Clugny, who, not
withstanding his title of " Venerable," and his being
scarcely known in the present day except as a monk
of the Dark Ages (that is, in the minds of many, a
mere vegetation of over-fed stupidity), was certainly
a very facetious person —
" Is it thus that you think fit to joke ? It is all very proper
and very friendly, provided only that it is not meant to take me in.
Do not wonder at my saying this ; for the very circumstance of
jour sudden and unexpected condescension makes me suspect it.
It is not long ago that I wrote to salute your greatness with all
due reverence, and you did not answer me a word. Not long
before, also, I had written to you from Bome, and then too I did
not get a single syllable. Do you wonder that on your recent
return from Spain I did not intrude my nonsense upon you ? At
any rate, if it is a fault merely not to have written, whatever may
have been the cause, surely some blame attaches to unwillingness,
not to say contemptuous neglect, in answering. Observe what I
might say on the score of justice (as you put me on that) were it
not that I desire rather to meet returning kindness, than to retard
it either by useless excuses or recrimination. But I have said
this, that I may not keep shut up in my mind anything which I
have not fairly spoken out ; for that is inconsistent with true
friendship. As to the rest, since charity believeth all things, let
every remnant of suspicion be removed. I rejoice that you have
again warmed to the remembrance of former friendship, and even
to the recalling of your friend, injured as he is. I come gladly as
soon as I am called, happy that I am called, and have quite
forgotten all my wrongs. Here am I, that used to be, and am, the
servant of your holiness.1 I am thankful that I am excellently
1 The difficulty of translating letters of this period is much
increased by the titles ; which, though common at that time, can
now scarcely be put into English without some appearance of
burlesque, not to say derision. This is the case with " your holi
ness," which some protestants know only as a title of the Pope,
and suppose to belong exclusively to him. The thing, however,
was common, and sufficient specimens might be furnished from the

436 • BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX, [NO. XXV.
well situated, being, as you are pleased to write, an actual inmate
Of yourself (intimus vobis factus), for if, as you charge me, I should
become cold, I shall undoubtedly soon grow warm again, thus-
cherished by your bowels of charity.
" And now as to what you were pleased to write — I received it
with outstretched hands, I read it eagerly, I love to reperuse it,
and, after often reading over, it still delights me. I confess, I
love the humour of it. For it is delightful in its mirth, and
serious in its gravity. I know not how it is that, in the midst of
your jocularity, you do somehow manage your discourse so judi
ciously, that the humour has not the appearance of levity, and yet
the dignity which you preserve does not diminish the freedom of
your humour. In fact that dignity is kept up in such a way that
one might fairly apply to you what was said by the holy man : ' If
I laughed on them they believed it not.' " [Job xxix. 24.]
One would like to see Beter's letter to which the
foregoing was an answer (or part of an answer, for
I am afraid of tiring the patience of my readers by
giving whole letters, except when they are very
important or very brief), but I believe that it is not
known to be extant. The simple fact seems to be,
that Peter had felt, and expressed, though in a
playful manner, some sense of neglect, owing to his
not having heard from Bernard since his return
from Spain ; and some amantium iras had certainly
ensued. My object, however, is not so much here
correspondence of Bernard and Peter alone to show that it was so.
Geoffry of Chalons writes to Peter, " rescribat humilitati meae
Sanctitas vestra." (Bibl. Clun. 781.) How is one to translate
such terms as " humilitas mea," "prudentia," or " beatitudo,
vestra," &c. ? I must really request the reader's instruction, or
his indulgence, in what follows in this paper, and on all similar
occasions. The title of Sanctitas is also given to Peter by
Sagerius, Abbot of St. Denys. (Ib. 961.) But perhaps what may
appear the most singular instance is Peter's thus addressing the
unfortunate Heloise — " Gavisus sum et hoc non parum, legens
Sanctitatis vestra literas." (Ib. 920.) As to the Pope's exclusive
right, we may say the same of his being " Vicar of Christ."
Jacobus de Vitriaco (who wrote early in the thirteenth century)
says, il Ipsa terra Jerosolymitana patriarcham habet, qui et fidei
peritus, et Christianorum pater, et Vicarius Jesu Christi." Hist.
Orient, ap. Mart. iii. 277. Solomon, too, Bishop of Constance, at
an earlier period (whom I hope the reader will always remember
as the patron of the abominable Sindolf), addressed Bishop Dado,
" Discrete Antistes, venerande Vicarie Christi." Bib. Pat. Supp.
ii. 825.

NO. XXV.] AND PETER OP CLUGNI. 437
to enter into the personal history of these abbots, as
to give the reader (as far as I know how to do it
by translation, which those who have tried it will
know to be very difficult, and at the best very
inadequate) some idea of their correspondence,
many years after the dispute about their respective
Orders, in which we have seen them engaged in the
characters of plaintiff and defendant. Beter begins
his reply by saying —
" Your shrewd holiness will perhaps wonder that I have been
so long in answering such a sweet and pleasant letter of a friend,
to which I ought cheerfully and quickly to have replied ; and will,
I am afraid, impute it to sloth or contempt. Far be both — both
are far — from me ; for I scarcely ever received anything in the
nature of a letter with more pleasure, or read it with more interest.
The delay has been partly caused by the messenger; who, coming
to Clugny, and not finding me there (though I was not very far
off, being only at Marcigni), neither brought on nor forwarded
your letter, but left it at Clugny. And that I may not even appear
to be finding fault with a good man, I must say that I believe him
to have been called away by business, or deterred from attempting
to reach me by the extreme severity of the winter. I was myself
detained there both by snow and business for a month, and scarcely
got home by the beginning of Lent. At length I got your letter
from the Sub-Prior, to whom it had been intrusted. Immediately
my mind was drawn out, and glowing as it was before with affection
to you, when so much more enflamed by the breath of your bosom
through that letter, it could no longer harbour any feeling of cold
ness or lukewarmness. Drawn out, I say, and so drawn out that
I did what I never remember to have done, except in reverence to
the Holy Scriptures — as soon as I had read your letter, I kissed
it. And that I might, according to my custom, excite as many as
I could towards you (for all at that time I could, not) what I had
read to myself, I read over again to those around me ; and
endeavoured as much as possible to excite in them a greater kind
ness for you. Then immediately I laid it up with the gold and
silver which, according to the custom delivered to me by my
fathers, I carry about with me for the purpose of charity.2 And

2 That is, he put it in his eleemosynaria, or almonaria, or, in
plain terms, his purse, which, in those days, and with regard
to such matters, answered the purpose of what we call a pocket.
See a story of Simon de Montfort during the Albigensian crusade,
" qui ad hanc vocem protulit literas de sua almoneria, dicens,"
&c. ; and afterwards, " reposuit literas in bursa diligenter." Gul.
de Pod. Laur. § xxi.

438 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX, [NO. XXV.
not incongruously ; for your regard, your affection, is precious to
me beyond all gold and silver.
" I determined to write what was in my mind the very next day,
but I was kept silent by my daily — nay, my continual taskmaster,3
who made me do other things. My most severe tyrant, whom I
could not resist, commanded silence, and multifarious care about
an infinite number of matters kept me silent not one, but many
days. Sometimes fifteen days, sometimes a whole month, some
times several months, during all which I was trying to write,
passed over ; but the tyrant already mentioned did not permit.
At length I broke this tiresome chain ; and, though with difficulty,
I have overcome the burdensome yoke and sceptre of the exactor
by writing clandestinely and at intervals. And lest I should seem
to say too much in excuse of my slowness in replying, you have
forced it upon me by saying, ' It is not long ago that I wrote to
salute your greatness 4 with all due reverence, and you did not
answer me a single word. Not long before, also, I had written to
you from Bome, and then, too, I did not get a syllable. Do you
wonder that on your return from Spain I did not intrude my
nonsense upon you ? At any rate, if it is a fault merely not to
have written, whatever may have been the cause, surely some
blame attaches to unwillingness, not to say contemptuous neglect
in answering.' This is what you say. Now what do I say ?
Plainly this — I say that I could by no means have denied the
fault which you impute, if I had disdained to reply to such a
friend when he had written first. For I confess that I ought
to have written to one who had first written to me ; but, as far
as I can remember, while you were staying at Bome I wrote
first, and you replied. To be sure, I might have rejoined ; but
your full answer, so completely satisfactory as to what I had
written, made me silent. Now if this be the case, the fault
with which I am charged seems to turn from me, and look
towards you. For you have been trying to convict the blameless,
and to load the shoulders of an innocent brother with a burden
which does not belong to him — not to say, which does belong
to yourself. As to my having done the same thing on another
occasion, I do not know how to answer, for I cannot recollect
the circumstances. If I could, there should certainly be either
a fair excuse, or a humble apology.
" But you add, ' Observe what I might say on the score of
justice ' ; and I say, for the reasons just stated, it appears that
justice is on my side, for I am not convicted of any fault. Now
if I were not merciful, I might call myself (as you call yourself)
3 There seems to be here, and in what follows about his
taskmaster, some allusion to the contents of the letter which
had produced that to which Peter was now replying.
4 The text of Bernard's letter, as it stands in this copy of
Peter's, is coronam instead of magnitudinem.

NO. XXV.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 439
an injured friend, and justly require that the injury should be
punished. But, according to my custom, I spare you, and forgive
you even unasked. I, as you have said, remember no injuries.
For this also pertains to what follows,5 for as I am anxiously
endeavouring, not in jest, but in earnest, to exclude the well-known
jealousy from many hearts (and wish to excite you also to exclude
it), I would first exercise indulgence to all, and what I labour to
make others do, I would first do myself.
'_' But perhaps you will say again, ' Is it thus that you think fit
to joke ? ' Yes, I do think it fit, with you. Certainly, with you,
though not with others. For with them, if I were to pass the
bounds of seriousness, I should be afraid of incurring the charge
of levity ; but with you I am under no apprehension about levity,
but follow after charity lest that should slip away. Therefore it
is always delightful to me to talk to you, and to keep up by
pleasant discourse the honied sweetness of charity between us.
For I take all possible pains not to be of the number of those
brethren who hated Joseph in their heart, and could not speak
peaceably to him."
If a soft answer turneth away wrath, we may
hope that this reply from Beter produced the effect.
There was, indeed, such a fervour in the whole
character and style of Bernard that those who knew
him personally must have been aware that, in matters
of feeling at least, he was liable to be drawn into
saying rather more than would bear the cool exami
nation of after-thought, or the strict anatomy of
malice. Yet perhaps another of his letters to Beter
may lead us to doubt whether he is really responsible
for every expression which may be found among his
epistles. He says —
" I wish I could send you my mind just as I send you this
letter. You would, I am sure, read most clearly what the finger
of God has written on my heart, has impressed on my marrow, of
love to you. What then ? Do I begin again to commend myself
to yon ? Far be it from me. Long since has my mind been
agglutinated to yours, and equal affection makes equal souls in
unequal persons. Else what could my lowliness have done with
your eminence, if condescension had not bowed your dignity ?

5 That is, I presume, to the sequel of the letter, which relates
to the differences existing between the Orders, and was written to
promote peace between them.

440 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX, [NO. XXV.
Ever since, both have been mingled, both my lowliness and your
eminence, so that I cannot be humble without you, nor you exalted
without me. I say this because my Nicholas (yes, and yours too)
being vastly moved in spirit himself, has moved me ; affirming
that he saw a letter from me addressed to you, which contained
some unkind expressions. Believe one who loves you, that there
neither rose in my heart, nor issued from my lips, anything which
could offend the ears of your blessedness. The fault is owing to
the multitude of business ; so that my scribes do not well remember
what I tell them. They sharpen their style too much ; and it is
out of my power to look over what I have ordered to be written.
Spare me this time ; for however it may go with others, I will see
yours, and will trust no eyes or ears but my own. Other matters
this common son of ours will more clearly and fully tell you by
word of mouth. You will hear as myself, him who loves you not
in word nor in tongue, but^in deed and in truth. Salute for me
that holy multitude of yours, and entreat them to pray for their
servant." Beter, as I have elsewhere stated, was liable to
be rather prolix whenever he took his pen in hand.
He seems to have eyed with a calm, quiet, somewhat
admiring look, that impatient love of brevity and
condensation, and knocking off matters in a verbum
sat manner, which had made such progress in his
modern days. I have no doubt that he was a man
of business, and got through a great deal, in a very
clear-headed way; and he could write very short
letters. But when his feelings were moved, they
were apt to overflow, and cover a great deal of
parchment. They were touched by this letter of
Bernard, which produced a reply five times as long
as itself; so that brevity, or rather moderation,
admits of only an extract in this place. After
discoursing on the titles of " Most Beverend," of
"Father," and of "Eriend," by all of which Bernard
had addressed him in the superscription of his letter,
Beter adds —
" But what shall I say of what follows ? < I wish,' you say,
' that I could send you my mind, just as I send you this letter ' :
and immediately after, ' you would, I am sure, read most clearly
what the finger of God has written on my heart, has impressed on
my marrow, of love to you.' Truly these words (if I may say it
without irreverence to the greater sacramental mystery to which

NO. XXV.] AND PETER OP CLUGNI. 441
¦the passage applies) are like ointment on the head, which descended
from the head of Aaron to the skirt of his garment — truly this is
the dew of Hermon, which descended on Mount Zion — truly, also,
thus do the mountains drop sweetness, and the hills flow with milk
and honey. Do not wonder that I scrutinize, and lay hold on your
words. For I know that they proceed not from a common mouth ;
but from his who knows not to speak but from a pure heart, and
good conscience, and love unfeigned. I know this, I say, and
the world knows, as well as I, that you are not of the number of
those who, according to the Psalm, have spoken, vain things, every
¦one to his neighbour ; that you are not one of those who have
spoken with deceitful lips and a double heart. Therefore, when
ever your holiness is pleased to write to me, I receive, and read,
and embrace, your letters, not carelessly or negligently, but
studiously and with affection. For who would not read with
interest, who would not embrace with deep affection, what I have
.already quoted, and what follows — ' Long since has my mind been
agglutinated to yours, and equal affection makes equal souls in
unequal persons. Else what could my lowliness have done with
your eminence, if condescension had not bowed your dignity ?
Ever since both have been mingled, both my lowliness and your
•eminence, so that I cannot be humble without you, nor you exalted
without me ? ' Are words like these to be negligently read ?
"Ought they not to fix the eye of him who reads them, to ravish
the heart, to unite the soul ? You, my dearest friend, who have
written these things, may think of them as you please ; but for
.my part, I cannot take them otherwise than simply according to
•the letter — than as the declarations of such, so true, so holy a man.
Nor, as you have yourself said, do I begin again to commend
myself to you. While we were young men we began to love one
.another in Christ ; and now that we are old ones, or not far from
it, shall we call in question a love so sacred, and of so long stand
ing ? God forbid ; believe one who loves you (to borrow your
words) that no such thing ever arose in my mind, or issued from
my lips, as any kind of doubt about anything which you had ever
seriously said. What you wrote, therefore, in this letter, I
received, I keep, I preserve. It would be easier to rob me of a
thousand talents of gold, than that these things should be torn
from my heart by anything that could happen — but enough of
this. " As to the rest, what your prudence conceives might have
offended me was this : — As to the affair of a certain English abbot
(which you know very well), your letter contained these words :
•' As if, say they, judgment were subverted, and justice had perished
from the world, and there were none who would deliver the needy
from the hand of him that is stronger than he, the poor and the
destitute from them that spoil him.' But, if you will believe me,
you may rest assured that I was only moved by them, as the
prophet (though I am not a prophet) says that he was. ' But I,

442 BERNARD OP CLAIRVAUX, [NO. XXV.
as a deaf man, heard not ; and as a dumb man, not opening his
mouth ; and I became as a man that heareth not, and that hath
no reproofs in his mouth.' [Psalm xxxvii.] Indeed, I was not
offended by them. But, even if 1 had been, you have made full
amends, by saying, ' the fault is owing to the multitude of busi
ness ; so that my scribes do not well remember what I tell them.
They sharpen their style too much, and it is out of my power to-
look over what I have ordered to be written. Spare me this time,
for however it may go with others, I will see yours, and will trust
no eyes or ears but my own.' I do spare you, then. Even in
matters of serious offence (I say it with humility), I do not find
it difficult to forgive one who seeks forgiveness, or grant a pardon
to one who asks it. And if in serious things it is no hardship to
forgive, how much less, how nothing, is it in trifles ?
"As to the will of Baro, the Sub-Deacon of Bome, which he is
said to have made at the time of his death, in favour of your
monastery of Clairvaux and of Citeaux, respecting property which
he had deposited with us, some persons, who say that he enjoined
them so to do, have written to me. I wish you, however, to know,
that according to the testimony of some whom I believe to be
credible witnesses, you are more indebted in this case to the Abbot
of Clngny's good will than to the testament of Baro. I knew,
indeed, for I am not so unacquainted with divine and human laws
as to be ignorant, that a will or a legacy for pious uses, or a trust
causa mortis, is to be judged according to posteriority ; but I read
elsewhere that nothing is so agreeable to natural law as that the
will of a proprietor, desiring to transfer his property to another,
should take effect. I say this, therefore, because (as the aforesaid
witnesses confess) whatever he had deposited at Clugny, he had
given the whole of to Clugny, unless he should himself resume it
in his lifetime. I have not, however, chosen to insist on this right ;
but what, from their testimony, I believe to be my own, I have
given up to you and yours. As to the Grenoble election [of a
bishop to succeed Hugh, translated to the Archbishopric of Vienne]
which our Carthusians are opposing, I have carefully deposited
my opinion in the mouth of my most dear, and your faithful,
Nicholas, in order that he may inform you. Hear him, and what
he repeats to you as having been said by me, believe without
the least hesitation. If I have forgotten anything which I ought
to have said, when I recollect it, I will mention it to my most
dearly -beloved in Christ. In fine, I most earnestly ask and
entreat you (what I have already asked by some persons of your
Order) that in this so great assembly of holy men as has met
together at Citeaux, you will remember me as one belonging to
yourself, and will strongly commend me and the whole body of
the Cluniac congregation to their prayers."
With this letter to Bernard, or, I am inclined to
think, more probably before this was answered, with

NO. XXV.J AND PETER OP CLUGNI. 443
another letter on the old and difficult subject of the
differences between their respective Orders, Peter
sent one to the Secretary, in which he says : —
"As I love you with unfeigned affection, I cannot long together
forget you. I loved you when you were of our colour [a black
monk of Clugny], and now having, as regards myself, changed
only your colour [by becoming a white monk at Clairvaux], and
not your heart, I love you not the less. I had rather that you
belonged to me than to anybody else ; but since wherever you are
you are God's, so I still consider you mine. Make a due return
and love him who truly loves you; for as not the whole world with
all its powers could alter those feelings in me, so let nothing
draw you away from the like affection. You know that it was
not to gain any temporal advantage, you know that no other
cause moved me to love you, but only what was amiable in
yourself. But you ask, what was that ? Because I knew, or
believed you to be learned, able, and, what is more, religious,
though only in time, and not from eternity.6 But enough of
this ; to come to the point — I am writing a letter to my lord
of Clairvaux which I want you to present to him. Bead it to
him carefully and studiously, and exhort him as much as you can,
that what I have written with a view to charity may be brought
to good effect. Urge him, for he must be urged on account of the
shortness of the interval, that in the next feast of All Saints he
may do what I wish, and if he finds persons objecting he may bring
them over to my (and, I think I may call it, his) view. The
King's brother [Henry, brother of Lewis the young, then a monk
of Clairvaux] whom I sincerely love, Galcher the Cellarer, our
Garner, Fromund the warden of the guests, and the other brethren
whom you know better than I do, salute affectionately on my
behalf." To this, Bernard, by the hand of the Secretary
Nicholas, replied —
" I saw your letter only for a moment, but with no little interest ;
I was occupied with so much business, as you, most loving father,
know, or may know. However, I tore myself away, and escaped
from the solicitations of everybody, and shut myself up with that

6 " Quia te literatum, quia strenuum, quia quod plus est, religio-
sum : licet ex tempore non ab seterno esse aut cognovi, aut
aestimavi." I give this as it stands and as it is pointed in the Bib.
Clun. p. 901, but I confess that I do not understand it, and can
only conjecture that it may refer to some dispute which might
exist between them, as to what is now called Calvinistic doctrine.

444 BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX, [NO. XXV.
Nicholas whom your soul loveth. I read over again and again the
sweetness that flowed from your letter. It was redolent of your
affection, and it moved mine. I grieved that I was not able to
answer according to my feelings ; because the evil of the day,
which was great, called me away. For a vast multitude, out of
almost every nation under heaven, had assembled. It was my
place to answer every one ; because, for my sins, I was born into
the world that I might be confounded with many and multifarious
anxieties. In the meantime, I write this scrap to him who is my
own soul, but when I can get time I will dictate a letter more
accurately, and which shall more clearly express the feelings of
one who loves you. As to the will of Baro, which you sent to
us, in truth we give you credit for it, for we receive it not as a
debt, but as a gift. I am glad to know the truth concerning the
Grenoble business. I would have you to know, too, that my heart
was much moved by the words of our common son, which he
brought to me from you. I am not disturbed by it, but prepared
to do what you wish wherever I can. You, as a most special lord
and father, and most dear friend, and your monks both alive and
dead, are remembered at Citeaux. The Bishop of Beauvais elect
[that is, the King's brother Henry, just mentioned], as one of
your own, which indeed he is, salutes you. I your Nicholas
salute you for ever and beyond it, and the household that cleaves
to your body and spirit." PETER TO BERNARD."
" If it were allowed, if the providence of God did not prevent
it, if a man's way were in his own power, I had rather, most
dearly beloved, cleave to your blessed self with an indissoluble
union, than be a prince or a king anywhere else. And why ?
Ought 1 not to prefer, before all earthly kingdoms, your society,
which is delightful not only to men, but to the angels themselves ?
I should not be wrong were I to call you their fellow citizen,
though through God's mercy hope has not passed into reality.
If indeed it were given me to be with you here till your last
breath, perhaps it would be granted to me to be with you for ever.
Whither should I run but after you, drawn by the odour of your
ointments? [Cant. i. 3.] But as this is not granted constantly,
I would it were frequently ; and since even that is not the case,
I wish I could at least have frequent messengers from you. And
since that very seldom happens, I desire that your holiness will,
as soon as possible, visit one who loves you until the Christmas
week, by your Nicholas, in whom it appears to me that your spirit
in a great measure reposes, while mine does so altogether. I
shall see you, holy brother, in him, and hear you, by him; and
some things which I wish to communicate privately to your wisdom,
I shall send by him. To your holy soul, and to the holy ones
serving Almighty God under your government, I commend myself,
and ours, with all possible energy and devotion."

NO. XXV.] AND PETER OP CLUGNI. 445'

PETER TO NICHOLAS.

" If you are mine, as I call you — if I do not deceive myself —
although you are a man under authority, yet I command, and
absolutely will, that you come here. I have for a long time
deferred issuing this command, though I had most fully resolved in
my own mind to do it, not from dissimulation, but because I
waited for a fit opportunity. For I am always, as you know,
moving about, not knowing how long I may have to stay in any
particular place, or when, or whither, I may get away from it. But
now, as an accident which I have met with will compel me to
remain at Clugny, at least until Christmas, you must come, and
make no excuse ; for, perhaps, if you delay, you may not find me
there, for I know not how long. When you come, I will explain to
you why I am so urgent. I have written to your Lord Abbot another
letter, more in the nature of a command than a request, to send
you to me. The History of Alexander the Great, our Augustine
against Julian (if the correction of your own by it is completed),
and any other good things which you may have, bring with you."

BERNARD TO PETER.

" What are you about, my good man ? you laud a sinner and
beatify a miserable creature. You must add a prayer, that I may
not be led into temptation. For I shall be led into it, if, feeling
complacency in such compliments, I begin not to know myself.
How happy now might I be, if words could make me happy.
Happy nevertheless I shall call myself, but in your regard, not in
my own praises. Happy that I am loved by, and that I love, you.
Though, indeed, this morsel, sweet as it is to me, must be a little
modified. Do you wonder why? It is because I do not see what
claim I have to such affection, especially from such a man. You
know, however, that to desire to be more beloved than one deserves
is unjust. I would that 1 might be enabled to imitate as well as to
admire that mark of humility. I would that I might enjoy your
holy and desired presence, I do not say always, or even often, but
at least once a year. I think I should never return empty. I
should not, I say, look in vain at a pattern of discipline, a mirror
of holiness. And (that which, I confess, I have as yet but too
little learned of Christ) I should not quite in vain have before my
eyes your example of meekness and lowliness of heart. But if I go
on to do to you what I have complained of your doing to me,
though I may speak the truth, yet I shall act contrary to the word
of truth, which commands us not to do to others what we would not
that they should do to us. Therefore let me now reply to the little
request with which you concluded your letter. He whom you order
to be sent to you is not at present with me, but with the bishop of
Auxerre, and so ill, that he could not, without great inconvenience,
come either to me or to you."
I have no doubt that the reason assigned by

446 NICHOLAS THE SECRETARY, [NO. XXV.
Bernard for not sending the Secretary was true
and sufficient ; but we may perhaps find ground to
doubt whether it was the only reason. It is, how
ever, corroborated by a letter of Nicholas, which
begins thus : —
" ' Show me, 0 thou whom my soul loveth ' — when shall I come
and appear before thy face, when shall I see thee, ' when wilt thou
comfort me ? ' Comfort me, I say, for ' comfort is hidden from
mine eyes ' until I see your desired and desirable presence ; and my
soul is sorrowful even unto thee. To be sure, wherever I go, the
most delightful remembrance of you follows me ; but in proportion
as that recollection is sweet, so is absence the more grievous. Far
be it from me to receive comfort from that specious, but false
sentiment, which tells us that those are more really present who
are so to the mind, than those who are before our eyes, and that
there is more in the union of hearts than of persons. As if,
indeed, the look and speech had not something of living pleasure,
which the absent cannot give. But I think this was said rather from
system than from feeling, by that splendour of Boman eloquence
with whom eloquence was born and brought to light — that is,
Tully, of whom it is said, that what he had framed in thought he
enforced in action, followed up with art, transferring with the
utmost ease his heart to his tongue. What am I about ? I have
wandered from my business, and am guilty not only of a digression
but a transgression. Who will make up to me for not having seen
together those two great lights,7 and that too in the firmament of
heaven, namely, in that place which the Lord hath chosen from
among all the places of the earth to set his name there? I am
angry with my occupations through which it occurred, not that I
was unwilling, but unable, and that I did not even know of it. It
was caused by the business of your brother, my Lord Abbot of
Vezelai, in which, by your command, I had to fight with beasts
that man might not prevail," &c.
It is quite clear that Nicholas was as anxious to
go to Clugny as Peter was to get him there. His
letter is too long to admit of my here inserting the
whole, and it may be sufficient to say that he begged
Beter to write again to his Abbot, to the Prior, and
to Galcher the Cellarer (for he was involved in the
business of each — horum enim omnium negotiis
intricatus et implicatus sum), and promised to bring

7 Alluding, I apprehend, to a recent visit of Bernard to Clugny.

NO. XXV.] AND PETER OF CLUGNI. 447
Alexander the Great, Augustine, and any other
good thing which he could lay his hands on. " I
know," he says, " that my Lord Abbot told you not
to send for me without necessity, and he said the
same thing to me ; but there is necessity, the greatest
necessity, to see you, however busy I may be. What
need of many words ? Order me to come." Peter
wrote as he was desired to all the parties ; and his
letter to Bernard is characteristic and worth tran
scribing : —
" If it be lawful to complain of a friend, and of such a friend, I
do complain ; and I say what was once said to a certain person,
' Father, if thy friend had bid thee do some great thing, surely
thou shouldst have done it ; ' how much more then when, first by
writing, aud then by word of mouth, he bade, entreated, with
familiar boldness ordered — 'Send your Nicholas to Clugny ? ' I
do not deny that the thing itself is great ; but it is no great
journey. What if you had only once written to me, ' send me '
this, or that person, or ever so many ? What should I — I say,
what should I do, but what I am wont to do ? I am in the habit
not only of granting your requests, but of obeying your orders.
But you want to know my reason. Is it not reason enough, to see
a person whom one loves ? He is yours indeed, but he is very dear
to me, and are you not pleased with my liking what belongs to you ?
Does it not please you that one whom I believe you love more than
many who belong to you, should be still more dear to me ? And
what greater proof of true friendship is there than to love what my
friend loves ? I love him for his own sake, and for yours too. For
your sake, because he is attached to you ; for his own sake, because
ever since the time of the Lord Bishop of Troyes, he deserved it on
many grounds. Hitherto I have made him no recompence for all
these things, except that I have always sincerely loved him in the
Lord. While others make a practice of repaying one service or
benefit by another, would it not seem beyond all measure ungrate
ful in me to deny to one who loves me such kindness as costs
nothing ? Is it strange, if, in order to prove to him that this kind
ness does not wholly evaporate in written representations of words,
I desire at least once a year to see him, to talk with him, to delight
myself in the Lord with him concerning those writings both
sacred and philosophical, of which he is full to the brim ? If it is
not idle to converse of God, of divine things, of those which are
most profitable to the soul, then Nicholas's visit is not an idle one.
If the cultivation of personal regard for you in our own hearts, if
the commendation of your order to all men, if at length to unite
your whole body to our congregation with the cement of charity, is
idle, then Nicholas's visit is an idle one. His heart is always

448 PETER OF CLUGNI. [NO. XXV,
inditing some good matter of you and yours ; he seeks the good of
his people ; he prays for the peace of Jerusalem. These are the
ridiculous, vain, frivolous occasions of Nicholas with us. Why,
then, my dearest friend, cannot he be granted to me for a month,
when I, from mere affection, gave up to you Peter and Bobert your
kinsmen, and Garner, and others, not for a month, but for ever ?
How many abbots, how many monks, have I granted to other, not
to say strange, monasteries (aliis, ne dicam alienis, ecclesiis), under
the influence of your letters and counsels? Nor do I repent of
having yielded to my friend, to whom I am prepared to yield a
great deal more. But it is right that he should make a return ; it
is right that, to one who is always giving up to him, he should
yield something. This thing is more profitable to your congregation
than to us ; for there is no person, unless it be yourself, venerable
man, there is, I say, no person through whose advocacy they could
more persuasively plead their cause, and no hook with which they
could more effectively fish in the sea or in the river of Clugny.
" But I remember that when your holiness was at Clugny lately,.
you said, ' What do you want with Nicholas ? ' I answered, ' It is of
no consequence, no great matter.' But I confess to you, dearest friend
— if I sinned, forgive me — they were rather the words of wounded
feeling than of truth. Truly I was then deceitful. I know not how it
happened, for it is not often the case with me, that I used deceitful
language. I had one thing in my heart, and another on my tongue.
This is what my mind tacitly suggested, ' Why should you repeat
your wishes so often? Perhaps, as you have been denied your
request twice before, you may now be denied a third time. You
have asked, and have not been listened to; why should you go on
entreating? ' I felt inclined to answer, as the man born blind did
to the Pharisees, ' I have told you already, and you have heard ;
why would you hear it again ? ' I was inclined to answer thus,
but I did not like to do it. Now, you see, I confess. Let my
confession avail me — let it avail me that I have not covered the
truth with a veil of falsehood — let it avail me that, as it is said all
is naked among friends, so I have stripped before my friend what
was disguised in my bosom. Let it, I say, avail me— but for
what ? That you should take anything for my sake out of your
barns ? or anything out of your cellars ? that you should diminish
your treasures of gold and silver, if you had them ? What then ?
That you should send Nicholas ; and. not only now, but whenever
I shall send for him. For I will take care, as far as possible, not
to ask anything that can be reasonably denied, or which may in
any way annoy you, not to say myself. Let it be, then, let it be,
as I wi&h, that Nicholas may spend next Easter with us, and,
according to his custom, pour out your heart to me, and mine on
his return to you."

449

No XXVI.
" I can only say, in the praise of Peter, that his manners were
gentle, his temper very mild and humane, and that he had what
in common language is concisely called a good heart." 
Milner.
We must not, however, lose sight of books in this
correspondence, for so did not even the Secretary
Nicholas, who was so much occupied by it : in
addition to all his business, as the abbot's amanu
ensis, he had what Mabillon calls a " librorum
commercium " with various persons. Thus, in his
thirty-fourth letter, addressed to Amedeus, Bishop
of Lausanne, he says, " I send you the book of
Master Anselm, well pointed, if I mistake not, and
corrected." By another letter, it appears that he
used to lend books on condition that a copy should
be returned with the volume lent. When Peter of
Celle had borrowed two volumes of St. Bernard's
works, he wrote to him, "Make haste and quickly
copy these, and send them to me ; and, according to
my bargain, cause a copy to be made for me. And
both those which I have sent to you, and the copies,
as I have said, send to me, and take care that I do not
lose a single tittle." Writing to the Dean of Troyes,
he says, " Send me the Epistles of the Bishop of Le
Mans, for I want to copy them ; " and, indeed, he
seems to have had a constant eye to the acquisition
and multiplication of books. When Philip, prior of
the cathedral church of Cologne, and the emperor's
chancellor, was going to Jerusalem, he put in for
his "noble library," which he had so wonder
fully and incomparably collected, assuring him that
G G

450 THE SECRETARY NICHOLAS. [NO. XXVI.
his poor brethren would pray for his prosperous
voyage.1 But, to say the truth of the Secretary Nicholas —
and I suppose it ought to be said of him, as well as
of other people, and it may as well be said in plain
terms, though I am sorry to be obliged to use them
— he was a great rogue. Enjoying, as he did, the
most affectionate confidenceof these two good abbots,
and professing the greatest attachment to them, and
the highest reverence for those things which they
held most sacred, he was a hypocrite, a cheat, and a
thief. I am afraid that I do not exaggerate the fact,
and that he might be called with peculiar propriety
" graphicum furem." But then how far the incon
siderate and confiding kindness of his patrons con
duced to spoil a clever, conceited, ambitious young
man, is more than I can pretend to say. Certain it
is, however, that when Beter was writing of Nicholas,
in the affectionate terms which I have quoted in the
preceding number, or, at the utmost, very soon after,
Bernard had begun to suspect him of duplicity and
fraud. In a letter to the Bope, principally about the
Archbishop of Bheims, Bernard says, " We have
been in peril by false brethren, and many forged
letters, under counterfeits of our seals, have gone
forth into the hands of many. And (what I am more

1 As to this " commercium librorum " (see before, pp. 74, 75
76), it would be easy to multiply illustrations and examples. One
offers itself immediately in a letter of the abbot Peter to Guigo,
prior of Chartreuse, in which he tells him that, according to his
direction, he had sent him the lives of those saints, Nazianzen and
Chrysostom, and Ambrose against Symmachus. That he had not
sent Hilary's work on the Psalms, because he found the same fault
in their copy as was in the prior's, but that if, knowing that, he
still wished for it, he would send it. That they had not got Prosper
against Cassian, but he had sent into Aquitaine for it, and would,
if needful, send again. He begs him to send the greater volume
of St. Augustine, containing the letters which passed between him
and St. Jerome, because a great part of their copy, while lying at
one of their cells, had been eaten by a bear (casu comedit ursus). —
Lib. I. Ep. xxiv. Bib. Clun. 653.— See Note F.

TJO. XXVI.] THE SECRETARY NICHOLAS. 451
afraid of) it is said that the deception has extended
to you. Thus compelled, I have laid aside that seal,
and use the new one which you see, containing both
a figure of me and my name. The other seal, there
fore, you will not receive as coming from me, except
in the matter of the Bishop of Clermont, to whom I
gave a letter sealed with the other seal, because I had
not then got this one."2
In another letter to the pope, of the same year,
Bernard speaks more plainly — " That Nicholas has
gone forth from us, because he was not of us ; and
he has gone out, too, leaving very dirty footmarks
behind him. And I had seen through the man a
long time, but I waited in the expectation that either
God would convert him, or that he, like Judas,
would betray himself : and that has happened.
Beside books, money, and a good deal of gold, there
were found upon him when he went away; three
seals — his own, the prior's, and one of mine, and
that not the old, but the new one which I had been
lately forced, by his tricks and rogueries, to alter.
This is what, I remember, I wrote to you about,
without mentioning any name, only saying that we
were in peril by false brethren. Who can say to
how many persons he has written just what he
pleased, in my name but without my knowledge ? I
would that your court may be thoroughly purified
from the defilement of his falsehoods. I would that
the innocence of those about me may be able to clear
itself with those whom he has deceived and preju
diced by his most impudent lies. It has been partly
proved, and he has partly confessed, that he more
than once wrote to you iu this fraudulent manner.
As to his vile tricks, with which the country is filled,
so that we are a byeword to everybody, I feel it
unnecessary to pollute my own lips or your ears.
If he comes to you (for he boasts of doing so, and

2 Ep. 284. Tom. i. p. 275.

452 PETER OF CLUGNI [NO. XXVI.
is confident on the strength of his having friends in
the court), remember Arnold of Brescia, for a greater
than Arnold is here. No man is more worthy of
perpetual imprisonment — nothing could be more
just to him than the imposition of perpetual
silence."3 Whether Nicholas ever made any such appeal as
he threatened d'oes not appear; but if he did, it
certainly was not followed by the consequences
which Bernard suggests, for he was living many
years after as a monk in his old monastery of
Montier Barney, as appears by a letter which
we have from him to William, Archbishop of
Bheims, who did not attain that dignity till the
year 1176.4
But let us (as Bernard did) abruptly dismiss
Nicholas, and look at the Abbot of Clugni's own
notary, Peter of Poictiers, who was afterwards
grand prior of Clugni, and who seems to have
shared, and better deserved, the affectionate kind
ness of Peter the Venerable. I was originally led
to mention this abbot by a reference to one of his
letters bearing on the question of monastic studies,
and showing his opinion as to what monks ought to
read. In what sort of books his own "commerce"
lay, may in some degree appear from what I have
just given in a note ; and his doctrine on the subject
will appear from the following letter ; though, not

3 Ep. 298. The Cistercians were more cautious at a, later
period. Among the Statuta Selecta of the General Chapter of that
Order, in a.d. 1223, we find the following : — " Abbas de Ponte,
Obran, qui literas quas non inspexit sigillavit, tribus diebus sit in
levi culpa, uno eorum in pane et aqua : et monachus qui ei litteras
obtulit, eadem poena puniatur, et in Capitulo vapulet." — No. xxiii.
ap. Mart. IV. 1337.
4 The reader will, I believe, find most of the particulars relating
to Nicholas, for which I have not otherwise accounted, in Mabil
lon's discourse, " De Nicolao sancti Bernardi Notario," prefixed
to the third tome of his edition of St. Bernard's works, Vol. i.
712.

NO. XXVI.] TO PETEE OP POICTIERS. 453
having Martene's book at hand, I am not sure
whether it is that to which he refers : —
"To his beloved son Master Peter, Brother Peter the humble
Abbot of Clugni wishes the seeing , eye and the hearing
ear :
" Pitying you, my most beloved son, labouring as you are in
acquiring the knowledge of secular literature, and burthened with
the heavy load of profane studies, and foreseeing no reward for
your labour, no relief for your burthen, I grieve to think that
you are spending your time in vain. For, if the single and definite
object of the true philosopher is to learn wherein real blessedness
consists, and having learned that, to attain to it, so that instead
of being miserable he may be blessed, — and if that is not worthy
to be called blessedness in which any good thing is wanting, but
that the summum bonum is a blessed eternity, — who will dare to
say that he is a philosopher who, by all his labours, is not
advancing to eternal blessedness, but to eternal misery? The wise
men of antiquity laboured in a search after this blessedness, and
set to work vigorously to bring to light what was hidden in pro
found depths, as it were from the very bowels of the earth. Hence
the invention of arts, hence the multiplied- perplexities of argumen
tation, hence the innumerable dissensions of sects disputing with
each other ; some of which placed happiness in sensual pleasures,
others in the capabilities of the soul, others thought it was to be
•sought in something above man, others with some other opinion
opposed them all.
" Seeing that these erred, and that they were seeking among
things below for those which are hidden above, and that mortals in
this world were straying in the confusion of falsehood, Truth,
looking from heaven, and compassionating their misery, arose from
the earth ; and having taken the likeness of sinful flesh, in order
to render Himself visible to such creatures, He cried to those
labouring under these and the like evils, ' Come unto me, all ye
that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest ; take my
yoke upon you.' And, because he saw that they were tied and
bound by deep ignorance of truth, assuming the character of a
teacher, he added, ' Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly, and ye
shall find rest to your souls.' And, in his sermon on the mount,
he plainly taught not only where true blessedness is to be found,
but also the means by which it is to be obtained ; and at once put
down the curious trifling of those who are searching after happiness,
saying, ' Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven.' " See now, without the study of Plato, without the disputations
of the Academy, without the subtleties of Aristotle, without the
teaching of philosophers, the place and the way of happiness are
discovered. Let human presumption, then, be silent, now that the

454 PETER OP CLUGNI [NO. XXVI.
Divine Master has been heard. Let Falsehood hold its peace, for
Truth teaches. Let man quit the teacher's chair, for the God-man
sits down to teach — ' Blessed,' saith he, ' are the poor in spirit, for
theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' Why is it then, my most dearly
beloved, that you run from school to school 1 Why are you labour
ing to teach and to be taught ? Why is it that you are seeking,
through thousands of words and multiplied labours, what you may,
if you please, obtain in plain language, and by little labour? Why,
vainly studious, are you reciting with the comedians, lamenting
with the tragedians, trifling with the metricians, deceiving with
the poets, and deceived with the philosophers ? Why is it that
you are now taking so much trouble about what is not philosophy,
but should rather (if I may do it without offence) be called foolish
ness. I say, foolishness ; for this is the declaration of the true
philosopher — ' Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of the
world ? ' Bun, then, my son, to that blessedness of the kingdom.
of heaven which is proposed to you by the heavenly Master, as the
one single fruit of all philosophy, and which you cannot obtain.
except by true poverty of spirit. For, as I have already said, the
true Master, presiding in the school of the whole world, and over
throwing the seats of the false teachers, has declared him that is
poor in spirit to be blessed, because for him is laid up the highest
blessedness, that is, the kingdom of heaven.
" Enter the way of poverty, which leads to the blessedness of
the kingdom of heaven. Enter, I say, the way of poverty, not
so much of the body as of the soul ; not so much of possessions
as of humility ; not so much of the flesh as of the mind. You
will then be the true philosopher of Christ, when he shall have
made the wisdom of the world foolishness in you. For, according
to the same apostle, if you will be wise, become a fool, that you
may be wise. And do not glory in your knowledge of the vain
talk of logic, or the curious trifling of physics, or in knowing any
thing else but Jesus Christ and him crucified. If, through his
gift, you attain to this, there will be joy over you among the angels
of God, who rejoice over every sinner who repents, and there will
be much joy among the saints, for when one member rejoices, all
the members rejoice with it. And to me it will be a joy beyond
everything ; for I will receive you as an only son, — I will nourish
you with the milk of piety, — I will cherish you in the bosom of
love, — I will bring you up among the little ones of Christ ; among
the multitude of recruits I will arm you with heavenly weapons,
and, as far as I can, will animate you to the spiritual warfare, and
will fight by your side against the enemy. We shall have help
from above, that as fellow-soldiers in the heavenly camp we may
conquer the enemy, and, conquering, may be crowned ; and, truly
philosophizing, may arrive at the true object of philosophy — eternal
blessedness. How these promises were performed by the kind

NO. XXVI.] TO PETER OF POICTIERS. 455
and warm-hearted abbot, and how affectionately he
was attached to this son, we may learn from a letter
which he wrote to him when he had permitted him
to go and reside elsewhere (I presume at some cell
belonging to Clugni), and missed him so much that
he repented of the leave which he had given. It is
long, but some part is so characteristic of the writer,
and otherwise so illustrative of our subject, that I
must give an extract. After saying a good deal
about the elevated situation of his retirement, and
reminding him of the purposes for which Moses
ascended the mount, and our Lord went up into
the mountain, the abbot adds —
" Since then, most dear son, in going up into a mountain, and in
solitary retirement, you do, according to the grace given you,
imitate the Lord and his servant, see that you do as far as you can
imitate them in other things ; that, as I have met your good desires
by providing for you the peace of solitude, so you may procure
some alleviation of my labours by your prayers. For to that
affection with which, as you know, I embrace you in the love of
Christ with my whole soul, you owe, not only your prayers, but
(as St. Paul said to Philemon) your own self also. What, indeed,
do you not owe to me, you whom I have loved almost beyond any
other ? What do you not owe to me, who never thought more
even of myself than of you ? And it is no wonder that you have
gained this place in my regard, when it was hardly possible for
me to make any adequate return for your life and conversation.
For, to say nothing of your other virtues, where or at what price
shall I ever be able to procure anybody so assimilated and con
formed to my own ways ? If I wanted to investigate any of the
deep things of holy scripture, I always found you most ready and
prepared. If I wanted to look out anything in profane literature
(for the sake of that which is sacred), I found you prompt and
shrewd. If our talk happened to be (as our most familiar talk
most frequently was) on the contempt of the world and the love
of heavenly things, your words seemed so separate from earthly
things, and so full of immortality, that you appeared to be saying
to me, ' That my month speak not the works of men.' s And me,
coming from worldly occupations, and, as it were, frozen up with
the cold of the north wind, they thawed as with the warmth of the
southern breeze, in such a way, and so melted me by the heat of
their breath into divine love, that even to them the words of the

8 Ps. xvi. 4. — Douay.

456 PETER OP CLUGNI [NO'. XXVI.
Psalmist might be applied — ' Send forth thy word, and thou shalt
melt them ; his breath hath blown, and the waters shall flow ' ; 6 —
and I may sing with the spouse in the Canticles, ' My soul melted
as my beloved spake.'7 All things were wearisome to me, I felt
everything a burden, I was groaning like one bowed down under a
heavy load of punishment. I was like those of whom we read in
Job, ' Behold, the giants groan under the waters.'8 I had no rest,
no relief from anybody, until my very necessity suggested to me to
go to you. But as soon as I could get a little leisure with you,
and have, if only a little, conversation, I rose up again with
renewed powers, and more alacrity, to my labours, like one
strengthened with much meat, and you had performed that divine
injunction, ' If thou shalt see thy neighbour's ass fallen in the way,
thou shalt not pass by, but thou shalt help with him.'9 By your
care, undoubtedly, like the cable of an anchor (as Gregory says) I
was prevented from being driven out to sea by contrary winds, and,
though much tossed, kept into the shore.
" Have you forgotten these frequent and earnest conversa
tions ? Have you forgotten my tears and lamentations over my
personal dangers ? Have you lost all recollection of the frequent
repulses with which you met my desire to fly from all earthly
things and devote myself entirely to God ? Oh, how often,
when the door was shut, and every mortal excluded, and He
alone who is always in the midst of those who think or speak of
Him was witness, have we held awful discourse on the blind
ness of the human heart and its hardness ; on the snares of
various sins ; on the different kinds of crafts of demons ; of the
depths of God's judgments, and ' how terrible in counsels over
the children of men,' * that on whom he will he hath mercy, and
whom he will he hardeneth, and that man knows not whether
he is counted worthy of love or hatred ; of our uncertain and
fearful calling ; of the scheme of man's salvation wrought out
by the incarnation and passion of the Son of God ; of the
tremendous day of the final judgment, of the incomprehensible
severity of the divine trial whereby he punishes the wicked
everlastingly, and the unspeakable mercy wherewith he gives
eternal rewards to the good.
" Conversation on these and similar subjects, when the noise
of the world was shut out, formed a sort of hermitage for me in

6 Ps. cxlvii. "He shall send forth his word, and shall melt
them : his Spirit shall blow, and waters shall flow." — Douay.
7 Cant. v. 6. " My soul melted as he spake." — Douay.
8 Job xxvi. 5.
9 Exod. xxiii. 5. " If thou see the ass of him that hateth thee
lie underneath his burden, thou shalt not pass by, but shalt lift
him up with the same." — Douay.
1 Ps. lxv. 5. — Douay.

ISTO. XXVI.] TO PETER OP POICTIERS. 457
the midst of men, and was like the tabernacle of the Lord, to
which (like Moses from the stones of the Jews) I fled for refuge
from the tumult of the world. Tired with the litigation of men
and the arguments of law-suits, here I rested. Worried about
the petty cares of domestic management, and worn out with
various dissensions, here I was refreshed. Annoyed by the
irruption of those who spoiled ns, by the slaughter of our people,
by the devastation of various places, here I put off my sadness.
The spots contracted from the filth of the world, I here washed
raway, and purged out the old leaven which is opposed to the
unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. And, what need of
many words ? Truly, according to Isaiah, this tabernacle was
to me ' a shadow in the daytime from the heat, and for a place
of refuge, and for a covert from storm and from rain.'
" Nor was this only here at home, but wherever I went. You
were my companion. This, as we travelled together through
various parts, neither the scorching snn, nor the freezing north
wind, nor the tempest, nor the cloudy day, nor the muddy earth,
nor the steep mountains, nor the deep valleys, could deprive us
•of. Everywhere, when the waves of the great sea were a little
still, this secret place remained to ns. I had you so unanimous
in all things, I was so sure that what I found in my own mind
was in yours also, that in yon, almost alone and without excep
tion, I found that friendship which is truly defined as identity
of will; so that nothing could possibly please me which was
displeasing to you, nor displease me if agreeable to you, —
according to what we read, that a certain person once said, there
were not two souls to two bodies, but one soul seemed to inhabit
both. But if such affection could exist among those who knew
not God, as that, without confounding the substance and only
uniting the will they could express such an idea as this, what
wonder is it if the love of God, which is shed abroad in men's
hearts by the Holy Spirit, hath united us in Him who maketh
¦of both one, and who said to his Father, of his disciples, ' that
they may be one, as we are ? '
" But it is time to begin complaining, that I may bring forth
that wherewith I have so long travailed. For you, yon, I say,
have offended against this love ; yon have severed this divine
union ; you have rescinded this heavenly contract, when, as a
friend, your friend — as an intimate, your intimate — and (to
come to the language of authority) as a subject, your superior
— as a disciple, your master — as a monk, your abbot — not to say
as a servant, your lord — has been deserted by you. But if I
were to call yon a servant, should I go too far ? for the Rule
prescribes that a monk, shall submit to his superior with all
obedience. If with all, then with servile ; but with all, there
fore with servile ; so that you are my servant. I complain
then of my servant's flying from his master, seeking out a
lurking place, refusing to follow him, being unwilling to serve
him."

458 PETER OP CLUGNI [NO. XXVI_
But there are two more folio pages of this letter,
and, instead of pursuing it, it seems more to our
purpose to extract part of another to a monk named
Gilbert, of whom I am sorry that I know little more
than that he seems to have adopted a very secluded
(if not absolutely solitary) life in some remote cell,
and to have written to the Abbot of Clugni for
advice and instruction. If I pass over what Peter
replied in the way of general advice, or with respect
to the peculiar temptations of his circumstances,
and what he says of the employment of his time
in prayer and meditation, it is not because I think
it uninteresting, or less scriptural or sensible than
what he might have written if he had been reserved
to our enlightened age. But, in fact, the letter
fills nearly five folio pages, and one must select; and
the reader will remember that my present subject
relates more directly and immediately to the know
ledge, than to the piety, of the Dark Ages. Having
spoken of prayer and meditation, he adds, referring
to the latter —
" But since she [for he has compared her to a handmaid, whose
mistress is Prayer] is wholly spiritual, she requires the support of
something else, and something inferior, and let her have the help
of sacred reading. Befreshed with this, and having shut her book,
she reflects upon what she has read, and after long reflection,
ministers as a handmaid to prayer. For as the fire, when the fat
is cast into it, from receiving that rich food, breaks forth in greater
flames, so the fervour of prayer, enriched by the fatness of medita
tion and reading, rises to the greatest heat of divine love. These
are the dainties of the king's sons. This is the table prepared by
the mother, Wisdom, to which, crying in the streets, she invites
the little, not the great ones, saying, ' If any be a little one, let
him come to me ; ' and again, ' Come, eat ye my bread, and drink
the wine which I have mingled.' 2 This bread no man eats who is
not fasting from all the food of man. This wine, unless he abstains
from all other drink, he cannot drink. For, according to St.
Gregory, he who feeds on sensual pleasures shall be counted unworthy
of those feasts of eternal dainties.
" But I know, my most dearly beloved, that these things are
difficult of attainment; and that it is not easy for everybody to-
2 Prov. ix. 4, 5.— Douay.

NO. XXVI.] TO GILBERT THE RECLUSE. 459'
pass his life in these pursuits only. Let these three things, there
fore [that is, prayer, meditation, and reading] be followed by
manual labour; that when the mind is fatigued with spiritual things,
and, being cast down by the weight of the flesh, falls from the
highest to the lowest things, let it be turned, not to the vain con
versation of men, but to a blessed exercise of the body. Trees
cannot be planted, fields cannot be watered, and no agricultural
work can be carried on, consistently with perpetual seclusion ; but,
what is more useful, instead of the plough, you may take in hand
the pen, and instead of marking the fields with furrows, you may
score page after page with sacred letters, and the Word of God
may be sown in the parchment, which, when the harvest is ripe,
that is, when the books are completed, may fill hungry readers with
abundant fruits, and so heavenly bread may dispel the deadly
famine of the soul. Thus plainly, thus you may become a silent
preacher of the divine word ; and while you hold your tongue, your
hand will sound aloud with uplifted voice in the ears of many
people. You will be shut up in your hiding-place, while in your
books you traverse sea and land. Like the watchman from the
high-place, you will cry aloud by the mouth of the reader in the
public assemblies of the church, and whisper the same things to
the silent servants of God in the recess of the cloister and the
corner of the house. Profession will have made you a hermit, —
devotion, an evangelist ; so that what you could not do yourself,
you may do by your labours. Be encouraged to this work by con
sidering the great reward that will accrue to you on account of all
whom you may help by this praiseworthy course. For all who, by
reading your books, have conquered pride, subdued luxury, despised
avarice, restrained wrath, have abstained from or repented of any
sins, will help to fill the barns of your eternal harvest, as handfuls
gleaned by the sweat of your brow. And while, for the most part,.
the works of men end with their lives, and cease when they do, you
will not die even when you are dead ; and even ceasing to live, you
will not cease to do good, while by your works you are recalling
the dead to life. And the gain of your good works in the sight of
God will be extended even after your death, as long as (if I may
so speak) the life of your books endures.
" If, however, from its injuring your sight, or from headache, or
from its wearisome sameness, you cannot, or will not, be content
with this one manual employment, make a variety by other handy-
works. Make combs for combing and cleaning the heads of the
brethren ; with skilful hand and well-instructed foot, turn needle-
cases, hollow out vessels for wine, such as they call justitim, or
others like them, or try to put them together. And if there are
any marshy places near, weave mats (an ancient monastic employ
ment) on which you may always or frequently sleep, may bedew
with daily or frequent tears, and wear out with frequent genu
flexion before God ; or, as St. Jerome says, weave little baskets
with flags, or make them of wicker. Filling up all the time of

460 PETER THE VENERABLE. [NO. XXVI.
your blessed life with these and similar works of holy purpose, you
will leave no room for your adversaries to intrude into your heart,
or into your cell ; but that, when God hath filled all with his
virtues, there shall be no room for the devil, none for sloth, none
for the other vices."
I cannot help hoping and believing that a reader
(if I am so happy as to have such an one) who has
oandidly considered the extracts which I have given
from the letters of Beter the Venerable will have
formed a less despicable opinion of him than he
would have done had he merely known him by the
brief and ignorant sneer of Milner. Whatever
might be right or wrong in Peter's religion, he
certainly was not a heartless formalist, absorbed in
frivolous punctilios.
But I hope, too, that the reader has not been
misled to think (and that I am not helping the
delusion by what I have just said) that I am taking,
and giving him, all this trouble merely with a view
to defend an individual from such silly censure. If
that were my object, I should not wonder if I might
be able to show a probability that Beter was a man,
if not of more critical knowledge, yet not deficient
in secular learning, and certainly of more extensive
reading, and real knowledge of the history of the
church to which he belonged, than the historian
who has held him up, not merely to scorn, but as a
sort of proof and specimen of the barbarism of his
age. If I were his panegyrist I should claim some
respect for the literary enterprise (even from those
who would not give it to the Christian zeal) of the
man who gave to the west a translation of the
Alcoran.3 I should express my belief that his

3 In a letter to St. Bernard, from which I have already quoted,
he says — " Misi et novam translationem nostram contra pessimam
nequam Mahumet hasresim disputantem, quse dum nuper in His-
paniis morarer meo studio de lingua Arabica versa est in Latinam.
Feci autem earn trausferri a perito utriusque linguae viro, Magistro
Petro Toletano. Sed quia lingua Latina non adeo ei familiaris
vel nota erat ut Arabica, dedi ei coadjutorem doc turn virum dilec-

NO. XXVI.] PETER THE VENERABLE. 461
Treatise against the Jews is not much less wise and
scriptural than what many persons have written
since, and would even write in the present day on
the same subject ; but on that point, or any other
relating to rabbinical polemics, I should not like to
speak positively, without consulting my very excel
lent and learned friend, Dr. M'Caul; and of his
poetry (as of some other good men's) I should say
nothing, because I find that compliments to their
sense, and piety, and good intention, are not generally
acceptable to poets.
But I am not the biographer or the eulogist of
the Abbot Peter; and I say so much about him just
for two reasons, — first, to show the reader, and to
beg him very seriously to consider, how history,
and history even of the most sacred character, is
too often written. If there is any subject which
should make the historian's hand tremble, even
while he guides the pen of truth, it is the Church of
Christ, which he has purchased with his blood,
which is, by his dispensation, militant here on earth,
dispersed through this naughty world, and every
page of whose history is rendered obscure by the
craft and assaults of the devil, the weakness and
the wickedness of the flesh, the friendship and the
enmity of the world, the sins of bad men, the
infirmities, the follies, the fancies, of good ones, and
by the divine ordinance that it shall ever be a body

turn filium, et fratrem Petrum notarium nostrum, reverential
vestrse, ut sestimo, bene cognitum. Qui verba Latina impolite vel
confuse plerumque ab eo prolata poliens et ordinans : epistolam,
immo libellum, multis, ut credo propter ignotarum rerum notitiam
perutilem futurum perfecit. Fuit autem in transferendo hasc mea
intentio, ut morem ilium Patrum sequerer, quo nullam unquam
suorum temporum vel levissimam, ut sic dicam, hseresim silencio
prajterirent : quin ei totis fidei viribus resisterent, et scriptis ac
disputationibus esse detestandam ac damnabilem demonstrarent,"
&c. — Lib. IV. Ep. xvii. Bib. Clun. 843. I wonder how many
people at this time, between Hyde Park Corner and Whitechapel
Church, know more of the Alcoran than Peter and his secretary
did.

462 PETER THE VENERABLE. [NO. XXVI.
consisting of many members, often, perhaps always,
incapable not merely of executing, but of apprecia
ting, the office of each other. Whatever else may
have contributed to perpetuate and increase this
obscurity, it has, I fear, done little in comparison
with presumptuous ignorance.
But, in the second place, I think the reader will
perceive that the abbot Peter was not a solitary
being who had some knowledge of the Scriptures,
while everybody else was ignorant. I do believe
that it was uncommon in extent, and that his secre
tary Peter meant, if not quite all that his words
might be made to say, yet something very strong,
when he talked of the abbot's having the scriptures
always ready — " utrumque Testamentum memoriter
retinendo;"4 but that it was not so uncommon in
kind as some persons have supposed the reader has
probably been led to suspect ; perhaps he has antici
pated, and wondered that I have not noticed, an
argument which is one of the most obvious and the
most powerful, and to which I hope to proceed.
* Bib. Clun. 619.

463

No. XXVII.
" Deinde etiam certis horis, certae lectioni vacandum est. For-
'tuita enim et varia lectio, et quasi casu reperta, non aedificat, sed
reddit animum instabilem ; et leviter admissa levius recedit a
memoria. Sed certis ingeniis immorandum est, et assnefaciendus
est animus. Quo enim spiritu scripturee factaesunt, eo spiritu legi
desiderant : ipso etiam intelligendse sunt. Nunquam ingredieris in
sensum Pauli, donee usu bonas intentionis in lectione ejus, et studio
assiduae meditationis, spiritum ejus imbiberis. Numquam intelliges
David, donee ipsa experientia ipsos psalmorum affectus indueris.
Sicque de reliquis. Et in omni scriptura tantum distat studium a
lectione, quantum amicitia ab hospitio, socialis affectio a fortuita
salutatione." — Guilielmus Bemen. d
If the scriptures were as little known in the Dark
Ages as some writers would have us believe, it would
be hard to account for one very common feature in
the biography of ecclesiastics of that period, written
by those who were quite, or almost, their contem
poraries, and who therefore, according to the popular
notion, participated, and gloried, in the same ignor
ance and hatred of the word of God. Treating the
history of those times as it has been too often
treated, we may, indeed, whenever we meet with
anything opposed to our previous opinion, set it
. down at once as an exaggeration, or falsehood, or
some absurd fruit of inconceivable ignorance and
stupidity. But in a great many cases this will not
help; and at the same time will not prevent the
statement from being of great value ; for I need
scarcely say that we may often learn nearly as much
from falsehood as from truth, though the informa
tion may be very different in kind from that which it
was the writer's intention to convey.
It is, for instance, obvious, that if a contemporary
biographer describes the subject of his memoir as
pulling down an old wooden church and building a

464 SCRIPTURE KNOWLEDGE [NO. XXVII.
stone one, so much to the satisfaction of the patron
saint that he came himself in the night, and set up
three great bells in addition to the three little ones
of the old church — if, I say, we are told this, all or
any part of it may be untrue, and the untruth may
arise from the intention or mistake of the writer ;
but at least we attain a high probability that there
were wooden churches and stone churches in his
days, and that both might have bells. Indeed we
are apt to suppose, that what a legend writer (I use
the word in its popular sense, for a writer of some
thing little better than romance) tells us of his saint
is somewhat adapted to the taste and knowledge of
those for whom he wrote, and that, even while we
disbelieve his facts, we may gather from him some
idea of the opinions and feelings of society in his
time. Perhaps we are even liable to carry this too
far ; but when we do, the fault more commonly lies
in building on single instances, or generalizing from
a few particular cases, than in the original principle
and ground of judgment. That ground is solid, and
by these remarks I do not mean to throw suspicion
on the statements of which I am about to avail my
self, but only to remind the reader that for our pre
sent purpose it really matters but little, if at all,
whether the biographers of the Dark Ages whom I
have occasion to quote were scrupulously correct or
not. As to the fact, I dare say that a great deal of
their biography was affected by passion and preju-.
dice, some intended to deceive, and some written in
error, — some, in short, as bad in every variety of
way as anything in our days, — but 1 really believe
that a great part of it is more umple, and therefore
more credible ; except on those points respecting
which the writer was, from the superstition of the
time, more likely to be deceived himself.
Be this as it may, it is certain that a very com
mon subject of eulogium on the ecclesiastics of those
times is that they were much devoted to the study of
the scriptures, and possessed a great knowledge of

NO. XXVII.] IN THE DARK AGES. 465
them. Several instances of this have occurred
already incidentally; and I will here add a few
others. The biographer of St. Luidger, bishop of Munster,
who died in the year 809, tells us that he was well
instructed in the sacred writings ; and did not neg
lect to lecture his disciples daily ; and whatever he
found to be enjoined in the holy books, he studied
to practise and teach.5 I have already, I believe
more than once, cautioned the reader that even such
terms as scripturas sacros in writers of the Dark Ages
do not always mean the Bible ; but it may be well
to repeat it here, and when the expression is ambi
guous he will judge for himself, whether it is used
with that laxity by which it sometimes includes the
writings of the fathers, and ecclesiastical historians.
It may probably do so here ; but I should not men
tion St. Luidger where doubtful instances are not
worth quoting, if I really doubted the fact in his
case, and also (to say the truth) if it were not for a
little anecdote which his biographer records, and
which it is to our general purpose to mention. We
may perhaps assume that this pupil of Alcuin (who
after spending three years and a half with him at
York, returned " habens copiam librorum ") was not
unacquainted with the scriptures, especially as his
master's eminence in such learning is recorded ;6 but
his biographer tells us that —
" As soon as he could walk and talk he began to collect the rind
and bark of trees, such as we use for lights, and everything of that

8 "Erat sanctus Lutgerus in Scripturis sacris non mediocriter
eruditus, sicut in libro ab eo composito .... probatur. . . . Dis-
cipulis etiam suis mane diebus singulis tradere per se lectiones non
neglexit, et quicquid in sacris codicibus faciendum invenit, illud
instantissime studuit observare et docere." — Leib. Sc. Br. I. 93.
See also Mab. Act. SS. V. 27.
6 " Qui erat in omni latitudine scripturarum supra caateros
modernorum temporum exercitatus," says the monk of St. Gall.
Canis. Led. Ant. torn. ii. P. iii. p. 57. I give this, which is a
testimony to his general learning, merely for the phraseology which
H H

466 READERS OP THE BIBLE [NO. XXVII.
sort which he could find. And while the other children were
playing he used to make himself little books of what he had
gathered. And when he could get any fluid, he imitated those
who write, and used to carry them to his nurse to take care of, as
if they were useful books. And when anybody said to him, ' What
have you been doing to-day ? ' he would say that he had been all
day making books, or writing, or reading. And when he was
further asked ' Who taught you ? ' he would answer ' God taught
me.' He was in fact meditating in his tender age what he after
wards devotedly performed." 7
One could imagine him accepting little Hannah
More's invitation, and accompanying her in her
anticipatory journeys.8 But the reason why this
puerile circumstance is worth mentioning is, that it
indicates a state of things in which the child was
familiar with books, and reading and writing. If
he had not seen it practised, he would have no more
thought of writing than Bhilip Quarl's monkey did
before his master came to the island.
Of St. Dunstan, who became archbishop of Canter
bury in the year 961, his biographer tells us that he
used to spend such leisure as he could retrieve from
public affairs in religious exercises, and among other
things in reading the divine writings (divinas scriptu-
ras) and correcting the copies of them.9
Of Maiolus, abbot of Clugni, who died in the year
994, I have already spoken — >ut speculi fieri solet

illustrates what 1 have just said. Of Alcuin's biblical learning and
labours I have spoken in a former number [see p. 200, 214] ; but
they are notorious, and the reader will perceive that my object is
rather to show, by scattered and incidental notices, the probability
that there were many biblical students among the comparatively
obscure. 7 Leibn. Ser. Brun. i. 87.
8 " Among the characteristic sports of Hannah's childhood,
which their mother was fond of recording, we are told, that she
was wont to make a carriage of a chair and then to call her sisters
to ride with her to London to see bishops and booksellers ; an
intercourse which we shall hereafter show to have been realized."
• — Roberts's Memoirs of Hannah More, vol. I. p. 14.
9 Mab. Act. SS. vii. 663.

NO. XXVII.J IN THE DARK AGES. 467
inspectione, ita se interius divina considerabat
lectione, &C.1
Of Lambert, abbot of the monastery of Lobbes,
about the year 1094, his biographer tells us that " of
his love of the word of God and his knowledge of the
scriptures ; to the study and comparison of which,
whenever opportunity was afforded, he gave himself
wholly . . . there is much which might be worthy
of mention."2
Anselm, bishop of Lucca, who died in the year
1086, according to his contemporary biographer,
" Knew almost all the holy scriptures by heart ; and,
as soon as he was asked, would tell what each and
all the holy expositors thought on any particular
point."3 I think that I have referred to what William of
Malmesbury, who lived within fifty years of the
time, says of Wulstan bishop of Worcester's custom
of repeating the whole psalter on his journeys, to
keep his attendant clerks from such vain talk as is
the common snare of travellers ; but I will here add
his testimony, that " lying, standing, walking,
sitting, he had always a psalm on his lips, always
Christ in his heart." 4
Hariulf, abbot of Aldemburg, and Lisiard, bishop
of Soissons, contemporaries and biographers of
Arnold, bishop of Soissons, who died in the year
1087, tell us, that he did not speak a single word to

1 See p. 326.
- Dach. Spic. ii. 753.
3 Mab. Act. SS. ix. 480.
* William of Malmesbury says — " Ascenso animali, continuo
psalterium incipere nee pausam nisi ad finem facere ... si via
protelaretur ad sufficientiam horarum repetebatur psalterium.
Adequitabant clerici et monachi, vel seriem versuum excepturi, vel
amminiculaturi memorias, si quando videretur titubare, hoc ideo ut
dediscerent inanes fabulas, quas potissimum se viautibus ingerunt "
— and he afterwards adds, "jaceret, staret, ambularet, sederet,
semper in ore psalmus, semper in corde Christus." — Mab. A. SS.
ix. 834, who refers to Ang. Sac. ii. 240.

468 READERS OP THE BIBLE. [NO. XXVII.
any creature during three years and a half which he
spent in constant reading of the word of God and
meditation upon it.5
The contemporary biographer of Thierry, abbot of
St. Hubert in the Ardennes, says, that he was so
assiduous in reading the holy scriptures that he
knew them by heart, and could quickly resolve
even the most difficult, and obscure, questions re
specting them.6
Of Wolphelm, abbot of Brunwillers near Cologne,
who lived until the year 1091, his disciple says, that
he so profited in the reading of the scriptures that
what he once read he never forgot. This may per
haps be meant to refer to more general theological
reading ; but he adds, " It is also worth while to
mention that this man of the Lord caused the whole
of the Old and New Testament to be read through
every year. The four gospels, however, as they
could not be read at the same time, and in the same
order, as the other books, he appointed to be read at
four periods of the year, by four deacons, in the
four sides of the cloisters." 7

6 " Tribus igitur annis et mensibus sex, nullum mortalibus
locutus est verbum, continuo strictus silentio, et delectatus in
cselesti contemplatione atque assidua verbi Dei meditatione, quam
solus legens ex divinorum copia librorum ubertim hauriebat." —
Mab. A. SS. ix. 514.
6 " In lectione sanctarum scripturarum ita erat assiduns, ut eas
memoriter teneret, et earum quasstiones quamvis difficillimas et
obscuras, cito evolveret." — Mab. A. SS. ix. 565.
7 " Operas pretium est, illud etiam non reticere quod singulis
annis vir Domini, Novi ac Veteris Testamenti paginas ex integro
faciebat legendo revolvi : quatuor vero evangeliorum libros quoniam
non eo loco, vel ordine, quo reliquos, competebat expleri, statuit
quatuor temporibus recurrentibus anni in quatuor plagis claustri
singulos a singulis diaconibus recitari." He also gives'these verses
of Wolphelm : — ¦
Late diffusus sit ecclesiasticus usus.
Se testamentis exercet Omnipotentis.
Ut legat hsec ambo, sed et omni compleat anno
Sicut in hebdomada psalmorum clauditur ordo.
Mab. A. SS. ix. 686.

NO. XXVII.J AUFRIDUS, BISHOP OF UTRECHT. 469
I suppose it would not be difficult to give enough
examples to tire the reader, if I have not done it
already ; but I will here add only that of Auf ridus,
a man of high rank and military education, because
his anonymous biographer tells us, that while a
layman his table-talk was always seasoned with
references to the holy scriptures. I mention this
because he was a layman, while the others of whom
I have spoken were ecclesiastics. Of course in
stances among the laity are less frequently met
with, for two very obvious reasons. In the first
place, the ecclesiastics were the reading men, and
the writing men, and it is therefore likely not only
that there should be more matter of this sort to
record of them than of the laity, but that, as the
reading men and writing men thus formed one class,
they should know and care more about each other's
personal and individual characters, and therefore
more facts (not only in quantity, but in proportion)
should be recorded. Secondly, these laymen who
had particular knowledge of the scriptures, and of
ecclesiastical books, were very likely to become
ecclesiastics, and to be principally known in that
character. I have mentioned St. Eloy the gold
smith ; and perhaps some others ; and so this
Aufridus, after having been a soldier of rank,
became, in the year 994 or 995, bishop of Utrecht.8
Others too there were, many of whom, though
equally learned and diligent, did not rise to such
high station ; and I will run the risque of specifying
one, partly because he was a man not much known
out of his own circle, and who as far as I know
never wrote anything ; partly, because he lived in
the very darkest period, for though there may be
some difficulty in fixing the minutiae of his chrono-

8 " Quicquid vero in jugi et quotidiana confabulatione loquebatur,
hoc divinarum scripturarum exemplis blande leniterque condiebat."
—Mab. A. SS. viii. 78.

470 JOHN, ABBOT [NO. XXVII.
logy, it appears that he was an old man in the year
973 ; and partly also because his affectionate disciple
and biographer has mentioned several particulars
which illustrate not only his personal history, but
the times to which he belonged.
The monastery of St. Gorgonius at Gorze, origi
nally founded by Chrodegang bishop of Metz, was
a few miles to the south-west of that city. Its abbot,
John, whom I desire to introduce to the notice of
the reader, was born, most probably in the early
part of the tenth century, at Vendiere, of parents
who were, to say the least, in very respectable cir
cumstances. His father, at a somewhat advanced
age, married a young woman of good family, by
whom he had this son and two other children.
John was sent to school at Metz, and also spent
some time at the monastery of St. Michael on the
Moselle, where Hildebold a grammarian, one of the
disciples of Bemigius the most learned master of
that age, kept school. From his learning, however,
as he afterwards frequently said, whether it was
through carelessness, or, as it seemed more probable,
from a sort of pride, he gained very little, though
his father paid very liberally for his instruction.
Soon afterwards, while he was quite a youth, his
father died," and his mother, who was much younger,
marrying again, the care of his brothers and all the
family devolved upon him. How he excelled in the
knowledge of business, and in domestic economy,
how prudent he was and what ability he showed, his
biographer thought it needless to state particularly,
and contented himself with referring his readers to
many persons who were then living for testimony.
It is still less our business than it was his bio
grapher's to trace the future abbot of Gorze through
all these circumstances, and it may be enough to
state that, having by these pursuits lost what little
learning he had gained at school, he went to read
with Berner, a deacon at Toul, who was much
celebrated for both piety and learning. With him

NO. XXVII.] OP GORZE. 471
he studied the elements of grammar and read the
first part of Donatus ;9 but he was quickly satisfied,
or dissatisfied with these studies, and devoted him
self entirely to sacred literature, in which he soon
made extraordinary progress. For brevity's sake I
pass over all the intermediate steps between this,
and his being called to the nunnery of St. Beter, at
Metz, to take his turn there as officiating priest.
His biographer says —
" In the company of nuns, belonging to that place (which still
through the mercy of God continues to prosper), there was one
named Geisa, distinguished from the rest by her manners and con
versation. She was still quite a girl, and her aunt (she was named
Fredeburg), who was herself one of the nuns, was bringing her up
under her own particular care. This Geisa, therefore, who was
daily making progress in the strictness of holy conversation, amongst
the other ornaments of her sacred purpose, also wore hair cloth
under all her garments. John, who scarcely knew, if indeed he
knew at all, of the existence of any such practice, while he was one
day, I know not where, talking familiarly with her as he used to do
with the others, got an indistinct view through her linen, which was
very thin, of the hair cloth which was next the skin on the damsel's
neck. Having put his hand upon it to find out what it was, and
discovering by its asperity, he was struck with amazement and
trembled all over. On his enquiring what this kind of dress could
mean, she was shy and blushed ; and after remaining silent for
sometime she replied, ' Do you not know that we ought not to live for
this world, or to serve it ? Those things to which I see most people
devoted appear to me to be altogether vain and the ruin of souls ;
a contrary disposition of mind makes me solicitous only concerning
my own personal danger.' When, in the language of holy zeal,
she had replied to him more than this, John was moved and sighed
deeply ; ' Woe is me,' said he, ' miserable and most sluggish, who
have so long dragged on a life, not merely fruitless but even wicked.
I, a man, ought to take the lead of the weaker sex in virtue; but,
to my great disgrace and shame, I not only do not follow them who

9 A very fashionable work in those days, but since so neglected
that the name has puzzled the modern editor of an ancient chronicle,
who takes some trouble in conjecturing who the Donati given by
somebody to a monastery could be. He had heard of Oblati who
offered themselves, or were offered by their parents while children,
but as to Donati they were a class of whom he had not heard, any
more than he had of the book in which grammar was at that time
commonly studied. It has found its way several times into the
foregoing pages. See p. 198. n., 204,285, and probably elsewhere.

472 ADDITIONAL PROOF [NO. XXVII.
are already on the way, but, slothful and altogether cleaving to the
earth, I make no progress whatever and cb not in any degree
imitate them.'
" Being therefore greatly stimulated by them, and more inflamed
than he had ever been before by any example of virtue, he deliberated
with a fixed mind on a plan for a more perfect life. He therefore
immediately began with these handmaidens of God, a course of
divine reading with all his might. Having first read through the
whole of the Old and New Testament, he committed to memory
(accurately, so that no one could have done it better) all the lessons
which are appointed for certain times in the divine service in the
church, which are contained in the book called 'Come3;' the
prayers and whatever is appointed for particular occasions in the
Sacramentary ; the rules for the computation of times, which he
had for the most part previously read over with the aforesaid
Berner the deacon. The canonical laws, that is to say, the decrees
of councils, the judgments for penitents, the mode of all ecclesias
tical proceedings, and beside all these, the secular laws he treasured
up in his mind (if I may so speak) word for word. Of homilies,
sermons, and divers treatises on the epistles and gospels, as well
as of whatever is memorable in the lives of the saints, he acquired
such a knowledge, that whenever he subsequently had occasion to
refer to them he would repeat them in the vernacular tongue
straightforward from the beginning to the end as if the book had
been before him, and he was actually reading from it. About the
same time he laboured hard at the ecclesiastical music, without
being ashamed or despairing ; although some were inclined to laugh
at him for enterprising what seemed unsuitable to his age. Never
theless the perseverance of good desire, though with much labour,
was completely successful. Thus were the leisure intervals of his
sacred duties with the aforesaid handmaidens of God employed."1
We shall not surely be told that such stories as
these are either fictions or very singular cases — or
even that they are to any important extent coloured
and exaggerated.* It would be easy to multiply
them, and not easy to escape the inference that a
familiar knowledge of the word of God was possessed
and valued by many in those ages, which have been
represented not merely as without light, but as so
fiercely in love with darkness that they were posi
tively hostile to the scriptures, and not only virtually
destroyed them and made them void by their wicked
doctrines and practices, but actually hated and

1 Mab. A. SS. vii. 370. *.See Note G.

NO. XXVII.] OF ' SCRIPTURAL KNOWLEDGE. 473
destroyed the very letter of the Bible. There is,
however, as I said before (for the reader may
perceive that I have been led into what is not a
digression, but certainly a parenthetical paper which
I did not think of when I wrote the preceding), an
obvious and powerful argument — perhaps it would
have been more correct to have said a plain and con
vincing fact — which I have not hitherto noticed, and
which I hope to state and to illustrate.

Circumstances which would have rendered it diffi
cult, if not impossible, for me to carry on this series
of papers, as I had intende d, are sufficiently known
to my friends, and are not of a nature to interest
the public. I meant, indeed, to have taken up some
other points among the great variety which are
intimately connected with the subject, and for which
I had collected materials. These I may, perhaps,
some day use ; but beside that they would have
required a good deal of time and trouble for their
arrangement, they would have increased this volume
to a very inconvenient size. I do not, however, like
that this reprint should be issued without a few
words to explain an allusion which I have once or
twice made in the foregoing pages to an argument in
proof of the scriptural knowledge existing in the
Dark Ages, which had not been stated ; which, in
fact, I have not stated at all ; but which is, I believe,
altogether unanswerable.
I could not but suppose while I was writing these
papers that some readers would anticipate me, and
wonder why I did not at once appeal to what was
so obvious to everyone possessing even a superficial
knowledge of the subject. I might perhaps have
done so if my only object had been to give in as few
words as possible, a decisive proof that the Bible
was better known in the Dark Ages than some
writers would have us believe. But it was my wish,
not only to state the proofs which exist, but to state
them in such a manner as that they might be most

474 ADDITIONAL PROOF
intelligible and useful. I am not without hope that
the contents of the preceding pages, beside having
communicated to some readers information on
several collateral subjects, and many incidental
proofs and illustrations respecting that which is the
main one, will have rendered some, who would
otherwise have been unprepared, capable of appre
ciating that which is, when properly understood,
the strongest proof of all. The proof lies in a
simple fact, and the fact is before our eyes ; but to
those who have never looked at the writers of the
period, and have imbibed all their ideas of the Dark
Ages from modern declamation, there is too much
reason to apprehend that without considerable
preparation it must seem unintelligible or incredible.
I am not such an enthusiast as to suppose that a
series of papers in a magazine, desultory and super
ficial as I sincerely acknowledge these to be, can do
much to stop the perpetual repetition of falsehood
long established, widely circulated, and maintained
with all the tenacity of party prejudice. If I were,
the occurrences of almost every day would, I hope,
teach me wisdom. \Vhile these sheets have been
going through the press they have brought me a
specimen quite worthy of Bobertson, and so much
to our present purpose that I cannot help noticing
it. Even since the foregoing paragraph was written,
a proof sheet has come from the printing-office,
wrapped in a waste quarter of a sheet of a book
which I do not know that I have seen, but the name
of which I have often heard, and which I have
reason to believe has been somewhat popular of
late. The head-line of the page before me is
The University. , Disco verv
Luther's piety! D A™i™ri's kefoemation. Thg ^
Among the contents of the page thus headed, and
in the column under " Discovery. The Bible," we
find the following passage relating to Luther : —
"The young student passed at the university library every

OF SCRIPTURAL KNOWLEDGE. 475
moment he could snatch from his academic duties. Books were
still rare, and it was a high privilege in his eyes to be enabled to
profit by the treasures collected in that vast collection. One day
(he had then been studying two years at Erfurth, and was twenty
years of age) he opened one after another several books in the
library, in order to become acquainted with their authors. A
volume he opens in its turn arrests his attention. He has seen
nothing like it to this moment. He reads the title — it is a Bible !
a rare book, unknown in those days. 2 § His interest is excited to
a high degree ; he is overcome with wonder at finding more in
the volume than those fragments of the Gospels and Epistles,
which the Church had selected to be read in the temples every
Sunday throughout the year. Till then, he had supposed these
constituted the entire Word of God ; and now behold, how many
pages, how many chapters, how many books, of which he had not
before had a notion."
Is it not odd that Luther had not by some chance
or other heard of the Bsalms ? — but there is no use
in criticising such nonsense.3 Such it must appear

2 On this word is a reference to a note in German at the foot of
the page, which the English reader (and for such I presume the
translation is made) will, of course, suppose to be a voucher for the
fact that the Bible was unknown in those days ; but which is, in
fact, neither more nor less than the following : —
§ Auf ein Zeyt, wie er die Biicher fein nach einander besieht . .
kommt er fiber die lateinische Biblia . . (Mathes. 3.)
3 After I had written this I was curious to see how Milner (in
this case, the Dean) had stated the matter; and I was surprised to
find the following passage, with the capitals as I here give it : —
" In the second year after Luther had entered into the monastery,
he accidentally met with a Latin Bible in the library. It proved to
him a treasure. Then he first discovered that there were more
scripture-passages extant than those which were read to the people:
for the scriptures were at that time very little known in the world."
— Vol. IV. p. 324. Beally one hardly knows how to meet such
statements, but will the reader be so good as to remember that we
are not now talking of the Dark Ages, but of a period when the
press had been half a century in operation ;, and will he give a
moment's reflection to the following statement, which I believe to
be correct, and which cannot, I think, be so far inaccurate as to
affect the argument. To say nothing of parts of the Bible, or of
books whose place is uncertain, we know of at least twenty different
editions of the whole Latin Bible printed in Germany only before
Luther was born. These had issued from Augsburg, Strasburg,
Cologne, Ulm, Mentz (two), Basil (four), Nuremberg (ten), and
were dispersed through Germany, I repeat, before Luther was born;

476 ADDITIONAL PROOF
to every moderately informed reader, but he will
not appreciate its absurdity until he is informed
that on the same page this precious historian has
informed his readers that in the course of the two
preceding years Luther had "applied himself to
learn the philosophy of the middle ages in the
writings of Occam, Scot, Bonaventure, and Thomas
Aquinas," — of course none of those poor creatures
knew anything about the Bible.
The fact, however, to which I have so repeatedly
alluded is simply this — the writings of the dark
ages are, if I may use the expression, made of the
scriptures. I do not merely mean that the writers
constantly quoted the scriptures, and appealed to
them as authorities on all occasions, as other writers
have done since their day — though they did this,
and it is a strong proof of their familiarity with
them — but I mean that they thought and spoke and
wrote the thoughts and words and phrases of the
Bible, and that they did this constantly and
habitually as the natural mode of expressing them
selves. They did it, too, not exclusively in

and I may add that before that event there was a printing press at
work in this very town of Erfurt, where, more than twenty years
after, he is said to have made his 'discovery.' Some may ask what
was the Pope about all this time ? Truly one would think he must
have been off his guard ; but as to these German performances, he
might have found employment nearer home if he had looked for it.
Before Luther was born the Bible had been printed in Bome, and
the printers had had the assurance to memorialise his Holiness,
praying that he would help them off with some copies. It had
been printed too at Naples, Florence, and Placenza ; and Venice
alone had furnished eleven editions. No doubt we should be within
the truth if we were to say that beside the multitude of manuscript
copies, not yet fallen into disuse, the press had issued fifty different
editions of the whole Latin Bible; to say nothing of Psalters, New
Testaments, or other parts. And yet, more than twenty years
after, we find a young man who had received " a very liberal
education," who " had made great proficiency in his studies at
Magdeburg, Eisenach, and Erfurt," and who, nevertheless, did not
know what a Bible was, simply because " the Bible was unknown
in those days."— See Note H.

OF SCRIPTURAL KNOWLEDGE. 477
theological or ecclesiastical matters, but in histories,
biographies, familiar letters, legal instruments, and
documents of every description. I do not know
that I can fully express my meaning, but perhaps I
may render it more clear if I repeat that I do not
so much refer to direct quotations of scripture, as
to the fact that their ideas seem to have fallen so
naturally into the words of scripture, that they
were constantly referring to them in a way of pass
ing allusion, which is now very puzzling to those
who are unacquainted with the phraseology of the
Vulgate, and forms one of the greatest impediments
in the way of many who wish to read their works.
It is a difficulty which no dictionary or glossary
will reach. What the reader wants, and the only
thing that will help him, is a concordance of the
Vulgate, in which to look out such words as seem to
be used in a strange and unintelligible way. With
out seeing them in their original context there is
little chance of discovering their meaning — but then
is it not clear that the passage was present to the
mind of the writer, and that he expected it to be so
to those of his readers ? How could it be otherwise ?
It will, I hope, be understood that I am not
setting forth all these writers, or all those for whom
they wrote, as persons having a very full and clear
understanding of the Bible, who had imbibed its
spirit, steadfastly believed its doctrines, and punc
tually obeyed its precepts. I would as soon answer
for all Cromwell's lambs.
I grant too that scriptural quotations and allusions
were often made in the worst possible taste, and
sometimes with the grossest absurdity. The speci
men which I have given at p. 261, will I trust
prevent my being suspected of any wish to deny or
conceal this. What could be more unlucky than
the allusion to Bahab and Babylon ? What but
inveterate habit could have seduced any man into
such absurdity ? But, among the extracts which I
have given, the reader will easily find more credit-

478 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
able illustrations of my meaning ; and if he suspects
them of having been partially selected, or thinks (as
he justly may) that they are not of themselves
sufficient to constitute a full proof — for how can the
matter, from its very nature, be proved by extracts
however numerous and varied ? — let him take the
first half dozen writers of the period which he can
lay his hands on, and resolve on making out the
sense of half a dozen pages in each, and I have no
doubt that he will find enough to make him suspect
that further inquiry would prove the truth of what
I have been stating. In the meanwhile I beg him to
remember, that not having distinctly stated this
fact in the foregoing papers, I have not there
brought forward such extracts as I should have
given in proof and illustration. One therefore, and
I freely confess that it is rather a singular one, I
will here give, and beside its bearing on the precise
point under discussion, it may carry with it some
ground for reflection on several questions of some
interest — what was the feeling of the period ? what
could, and did, an archbishop preach before an
Emperor, in the Dark Ages? and how was it
received ?
Bardo was born in or about the year 981 at
Opershoven in Weteravia, or, as it would have been
described in more modern times, in the upper circle
of the Bhine. At his baptism one of his godfathers
gave him a helmet, a lamb, and a psalter. His
biographer (who appears to have been almost, or
quite, his contemporary) tells us that the first of
these three things prefigured the arms which he
should successfully use in his spiritual warfare, the
second his patience which was remarkable even
from his earliest years, and the third the great
profit which he would receive by the study of
Fsalmody. As soon as he was weaned his parents
(et in divina sapientes, et in humana prudentes)
sent him, with his psalter, to an old woman named
Benedicta to learn his letters. She became fond of

OF MENTZ. 479
the child, and while he lay in her bosom she taught
him all she knew herself. Thus in a short time,
and as in play, he had learned to repeat all his
psalter. He never forgot her affection and services ;
and, when he was an archbishop, he became, as his
biographer expresses it, a nurse to his old nurse,
and liberally provided for her.
When he had learned his Bsalter, his parents sent
him to school at the famous monastery of Fulda,
then governed by Abbot Archanbald, where he
made great progress. But though, through fear of
the schoolmaster, he worked at secular learning,
his mind was engrossed by the Bsalter, the hymns
of the church,4 the Gospels, and the like. In short,
he became a monk at Fulda ; and gained the high
character of being an useful, peaceable, and peace
making member of the society, loved and respected
by all his brethren, as one who learned by reading
and taught by practice. His biographer assigns to
him, even at this early period of his life, the gift of
prophecy, and adduces the following proofs. One
of his favourite books was St. Gregory's on the
Bastoral Office; and he was always reading it.
Some of his friends, one day, asked him the reason
of this. " Oh ! " replied he, " when some foolish
king comes here, and finds nobody who will consent
to be an archbishop, he may perhaps make me one,
and I must be prepared for it ; " — on which they all
laughed. His biographer gives Bardo credit for a
foreknowledge of that which he affected to say in
jest ; but knowing as we do, and as Bardo did, the
extreme probability that the Emperor should look
to Fulda for an archbishop, we are not bound to
suppose anything very wonderful. We must, how
ever, 1 think, at the same time, acknowledge, that

4 " In ecclesiastica tamen simplicitate toto mentis versabatur
tenore in psalterio, Ambrosiano, Evangeliis, et talibus ceteris."
As to the Ambrosianum, see Martene on the Bule of St. Benedict,
ch. ix. p. 266.

480 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
if the young monk had any suspicion of what really
befel him more than twenty years afterwards, there
was nothing discreditable in the way in which he
was actuated by it.
So things went on. His influence increased and
he became Dean ; and when, in process of time, the
abbot founded a small off-set, which he called the
New Monastery in honour of St. Andrew, Bardo
was sent to preside over it. While he held this
office the Emperor Conrad came to Fulda. The
Abbot Bichard, among other things, took him to see
the New Monastery, and Bardo came forth to meet
his majesty with prompt duty and reverence. After
prayers, when they had quitted the church, the
emperor inquired minutely about the place, what
were the services, who were the monks, who the
father, — and when he heard Bardo's name, and
found that he was a person who had long been well
known to him by reputation, he was seized with
sudden joy, repeatedly saluted, embraced, and
kissed him, and assured him that, on the first occa
sion that might offer, he should feel bound to pro
mote him.
The biographer ingenuously tells us that this pro
mise was the more easily to be accounted for, from
the fact that Bardo was related to the empress ; and
adds that he did not omit, so far as he was able, to
make a proper offering to the imperial dignity, for
he gave the emperor a Kliotetra,6 of workmanship
worthy of royalty, which, by leave of his abbot, he
had prepared for the occasion of the imperial visit.
Not long after the emperor sent for him to court,
and received him with great respect. He introduced
him to his friends, saying, " Have you heard of
Bardo of Fulda?" "A great deal," said they.
"What?" asked the emperor. They replied, "All
6 Mabillon follows Father Papebroche in supposing this to
mean a faldstool. He adds " Vide Glossarium Cangianum; " but
that does not help much.

OF MENTZ. 481
that is good." " If you have," said the emperor,
" believe it, for it is all true. If this is not a man
whom we may praise with truth, we know not who
is ; " and proceeding to speak of the civilities which
he had received from the pious father, he brought
him into favour with them all.
It was not very long before Bardo was the abbot
of two monasteries; and in process of time the arch
bishopric of Mentz became vacant. It would have
been the natural course of things, or rather it would
have been according to the course of alternate pro
ceeding that the abbot of Fulda should have suc
ceeded to it ; but he was passed over. In this he
appears to have acquiesced, whether simply on the
ground of a dream which he is reported to have had,
may perhaps be questioned. But it was so in fact,
and the clergy and laity of the diocese, few of whom
perhaps knew as much about Bardo as the reader
and I do, seem to have been quite at a loss to know
by whom the archiepiscopal chair was to be filled.
It was the month of June, and the feast of St.
Beter and St. Baul drew near. On the eve of that
festival, it was whispered that the appointment
would be made next day. As soon as it was light
the emperor and empress entered the church. After
prayers offered for divine direction in the business,
they came forth ; and, a multitude being assembled,
they sat down to consult on the matter. Much
murmur there was in the crowd ; among the
assembled prelates also each one was suggesting
this or that person on account of some virtue or
qualification, except indeed those who knew the
mind of the emperor, and they waited for him to
declare it. When, however, the day had made some
progress and nothing had been decided, silence was
made, and the emperor said, " Fathers and brethren,
we announce to you that which we have heard and
proved. I know a man of illustrious virtue, perfect
holiness, singular talent, a vessel of chastity, a son
of wisdom, one that has his body in subjection, 1 1

482 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
eminent in charity, poor to this world, rich unto
God, to whom our authority, if there be any weight
in human judgment, inclines."
This speech of the emperor all the great men re
peated to those around them ; but still as no name
had been mentioned they were asking one another
who was meant. Having made this favourable im
pression on their minds, the emperor called for
Bardo by his name and said, " Father ! " at the
same time beckoning him to draw near. How did
he look then ? How constant in mind, how un
changed in countenance, how firm in step. As he
came near all the courtiers pointing him out to one
another said, " This, this is he ; " and all turned
their eyes upon him, and their ears to the emperor.
When he stood before the throne the emperor said,
"We know the privilege of Fulda, and do not
infringe the law of our predecessors ; but there are
those who know the reason why we do not promote
the abbot, and we appoint you, one of that house,
to be prelate according to the will of the pious." I
do not know whether Bardo or any of his friends
thought of a young monk who had once said some
thing saucy about Gregory's Treatise on the Bastoral
Office ; but that was an old story, for he was about
fifty years old when he was consecrated on the 29th
of June in the year of our Lord 1031.
He went straightway to his see, and set to work
zealously ; but the emperor keeping the ensuing
Feast of the Nativity at Goslar, he attended him
there. On Christmas day he, as his rank required,
performed mass, and delivered a sermon which
seems to have been so brief and simple that it dis
appointed his audience.6 Indeed, his biographer
6 " Sermonem declamavit verbis non pluribus (quam ordinabatur)
ad vesperam." In a note on the words in the parenthesis Mabillon
says, " Et base quoque supplevit Papebrochius ob codicis legendi
difficultatem." I suppose this means that he did not make more
of a sermon on this great occasion, than might have been expected
at vespers. But I do not pretend to understand it.

OF MENTZ. 483
tells us, " there were some there who seized the oc
casion to vomit forth the gall of their malice, mur
muring that such a rustic little man should have
been made the prelate of so great a see, but in fact
jealous because he was a monk. The emperor also
was sorry that he had so highly extolled him in
public, and repented that he had raised him to that
most celebrated archbishoprick. So in that day
some were heard saying, 'He is a monk, he might
be good for something in his own little monastery,
but he is not fit to sit in that seat.' And, whoever
had a fling at him, ' Mo ' [i.e. the first syllable of
' monachus ' ] was at the tip of his tongue, so that
it was easy to see where the chief offence lay. The
emperor ate scarcely any dinner, and took no
thought of delicacies, for he was hurt by the biting
sarcasms of the prelate's enemies."
" The next day came, and Dioderich, bishop of
Metz, performing mass, poured forth all his learning
with lavish prodigality. All extolled him saying,
* This is a bishop.' The holy man [Bardo] how
ever, who was not ignorant that * a fool uttereth
all his mind : but a wise man keepeth it in till
afterwards,'7 and who was neither elated by favour
nor depressed by the carping of envy, took it
patiently, having made up his mind what course to
pursue. " The third day arrived, and a message was sent
to the pious father to know who should perform
mass. He intimated that he meant, by the divine
assistance, to do it himself. His Iriends craftily
endeavoured to divert him from his purpose, re
commending him to order somebody else to do it on
account of the fatigue ; but, in truth, being ashamed
of the sermon which he had delivered two days
before. But he thinking within himself ' my glory
will I not give to another,' said humbly, ' Every
7 Prov. xxix. 11.

484 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
one shall bear his own burthen; '8 and when they
talked of the trouble, he said, * Which is best, for
me to take trouble in doing what ought to be done,
or to give way to negligence ? ' And so being pre
pared, he went, with the fear of God, to the altar."
On this occasion he delivered a sermon which I
should be glad to give entire; but even in the
smaller type used in this volume for extracts, I
apprehend that it would occupy nearly fourteen
pages. It is therefore out of the question.
And what is the sermon about ? Thus stimulated,
how did the archbishop endeavour to regain his
ground, and please his noble, and critical, and now
prejudiced audience ? Was his sermon a highflown
invocation of all the saints in the calendar ? Not
a word of any saint but those mentioned in the
Bible, and not a word of invoking them. Was it a
discourse on transubstantiation, purgatory, pil
grimages, penances, relics, images, indulgences ? I
do not think there is an allusion to one of those
subjects. Was it a string of fulsome compliments
to his imperial patron ? It does not recognize the
fact of his presence. Was it something in the
" good -christian " way, about tithes and " presents
to churchmen ? " No hint of the kind that I see.
Was it a catena from the fathers, or a cento from
the classics, to show his learning ? No uninspired
writer is named, no book is quoted but the Bible.
What, then, was it? The reader will not perhaps
be much forwarder for being told that his text was,

8 My object in relating this history leads me to call the reader's
attention to this writer's use of scripture phraseology. He has
just told us what the Archbishop knew when the Bishop of Metz
preached, and now he tells us what he thought when asked to
appoint somebody else to say mass. If there is in the latter of
these anything approaching to profaneness, the blame is with the
writer, who probably used the words as those which occurred to
his own mind, and not on Bardo. What he knew, or thought, he
would perhaps have expressed better ; and what he said was quite
unobjectionable.

OF MENTZ. 485
" Bras fulgore in conspectu ejus nubes transierunt,"
Bs. xvii. 13, which the Douay version renders " At
the brightness that was before him the clouds
passed." Our translation (which makes it Bs. xviii.
12) has " At the brightness that was before hitn
his thick clouds passed." But the subject of the
sermon was the pre-eminent and excellent glory of
Him whose advent in the flesh they were celebrating
— the Brightness of the Sun of Bighteousness which
at once, as it were, gives and eclipses all the radi
ance of those clouds which shine with borrowed
lustre, and which, brought into comparison with
him, are as nothing. Should the notion that the
clouds represent saints appear fanciful, it would be
easy to justify the archbishop, so far as that can be
done by patristic authority;9 but my object is not
to defend his choice of a text, but to show how he
treated it ; and that principally as it regards the
knowledge of the scriptures which he displayed.1
The archbishop began his sermon by a reference
to St. John, and to the fact that it was his day ;
and after stating that the Evangelist would explain
the language of the Bsalmist, and having entered

9 I think St. Jerome makes the clouds in this text to be the
prophets who " passed" over from the Jews to the Gentiles at the
¦coming of Christ ; but it is sufficient to mention Origen's eighth
homily on Jeremiah.
1 In doing this, however, I am conscious that the preacher will
be presented to the reader under a twofold disadvantage. First,
Father Papebroche, as I have mentioned in a preceding note, seems
to have found it rather difficult to read the manuscript ; and I have
no doubt that in some places the text is corrupt, and does not do
justice to the author. Secondly, as the point, and application, of a
passage of scripture would sometimes be greatly diminished, if not
entirely lost, by giving our translation, and as, with very little
exception, it supplies a literal translation of the texts as quoted
in the sermon, I have given most of the passages from the Douay
version. These will seem strange and unnatural to those who are
accustomed only to our version, but perhaps the variations which
they perceive may tend to illustrate what I have said respecting
the necessity of being familiar with the language of the Vulgate,
before we can appreciate the scriptural knowledge of these writers.

486 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
at some length into an inquiry respecting his
character and authority, he proceeded thus : —
" After that this great steward of the Lord has received the
treasure wherewith to make gain — not I think in three, or in five,
or even in ten, — but, as I believe, a thousand talents 2 committed
to him — generous to his fellow servants, he immediately gives
forth a grand doctrine, In the beginning was the Word, and the
Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in
the beginning with God? And after he had added somewhat
respecting this divine Brightness, that he might declare its great
ness by a similitude, he presently introduced a great cloud, or
rather light, which in comparison with this Brightness he declared
to be no light ; for, saith he, There was a man sent from God,
whose name was John,4' and then he adds, He was not light? It is
indeed written of John, He was a burning anda shining light;6
but John the Evangelist says, He was not light.1 And if he, than
whom none born of woman was greater? was not light, then is none
born of woman who was less than he ; for if the greater is not,
much less is the lesser. John has explained the meaning of the
Psalmist, who said, ' At the brightness that was before him the
clouds passed.' What is this Brightness? the Evangelist says
that when Jesus transfigured Himself in the mountain his face did
shine as the sun? Here is the Brightness ; and of the clouds Isaiah
says, Who are these that fly as clouds?1 The assemblies of the
saints, says he, shine as clouds ; yea, more than clouds, as it is
written,' they shall shine as the sun in the kingdom of their father?
They shine ; one in chastity, another in simplicity, another in
poverty of spirit, another as a peacemaker so as to deserve to be
called a Son of God? another is crowned in blood, another clothed
in the white garments of virginity, another meek so that he will
hurt no one, another wise so as to teach the ignorant, and to con
clude generally, each one specially shines with some particular virtue.
" But whatsoever the measure of this may be, at the same time,
the whole is in God. For that Brightness, Light of light, God
of God, God the Son of God the Father — that Brightness, I
say, of which John saith that He was the true light, which
enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world i — the sower of
all virtues, the giver of all piety, the author of all holiness, He
himself had as a whole that which he imparted to each. What he
disseminated in parts abounded as a whole in Him. Whatever be
the goodness of any one, he cannot be compared with Him who did
no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth? There is no man that
sinneth not,6 not even an infant of one night, if its life be on the
2 Matt. xxv. 15. 3 John i. 1.
4 John i. 6. 5 Ibid. 8. 6 Ibid. v. 35. 7 Ibid. i. 8.
8 Matt. xi. 11. 9 Ibid. xvii. 2. 1 Is. Ix. 8. 2 Matt. xiii. 43.
3 Ibid. v. 9. * John i. 9. 5 1 Pet. ii. 22. 6 1 Kings viii. 46.

OF MENTZ. 487
earth. For the heavens are not clean in his sight,1 how much more
shall men who dwell in houses of clay, who have an earthly founda
tion, be consumed as with the moth ? 8 Of whatsoever splendour and
holiness the elect may be, they cannot be compared with that
divine Brightness, for in comparison of Him they are as nothing.
They are sanctified, it is He that sanctifieth. They are luminous,
He illuminates. They partake, He imparts. Whatever they are
He is also ; but they are not all that He is. Whence it is well
said in the book of Job, both the innocent and the wicked he
consumeth? That He should consume the wicked is plain enough,
but his consuming the innocent, though it may seem doubtful, is
equally true. He consumes the innocent because He converts
him into Himself, because he who is innocent is innocent in God,
that none may presume on his merits, but he that glorieth let
him glory in the Lord? Or thus, He consumes the innocent
because by comparison with Himself He brings him to nothing ;
whence it is written, Shall man be justified in comparison of God,
or shall a man be more pure than his Maker?2 (factore suo purior
erit vir) and the Psalmist says, In thy sight no man living shall be
justified* (non justificabitur in conspectu tuo omnis vivens). ' Living,'
he says, — for whether he is a 'man' (vir), or whether he is 'living'
^vivens), he shall not be justified. For he that is illustrious in
virtue shall not be compared. He does not say no man (omnis
homo) shall be justified in his sight, but no ' vivens,' for by that
word he draws no limit ; but he would only have been superfluously
stating what nobody doubted if he had said that no man (homo)
should be justified in his sight. But he has plainly defined his
meaning, by saying 'living' (omnis vivens). Living, he saith,
simple, innocent, chaste, meek, modest, poor in spirit, humble,
or alive in any holiness, shall not be likened. Why ? — because,
Who in the clouds can be compared to the Lord : or who among
the sons of God shall be like to God ? God, who is glorified in the
assembly of the saints, great and terrible above all them that are
about Him? Who, he saith, in the clouds can be compared to the
Lord ? None.
" Behold the clouds, but at the Brightness that was before Him
they have passed away ; that is, the illumined clouds could not
equal the illuminating brightness. Take away that which enlightens,
and what is enlightened becomes obscure. Take away the sun, and
the clouds are in darkness. Bestore the sun, and the clouds are in
their beauty. Take away what is divine, and what is human is
nothing. Add what is divine, and what is human is great. Nor
let us be staggered at that which is written, for both He that sancti
fieth, and they who are sanctified, are all of one; 6 for it is one
thing to be so adoptively, and another to be so substantially. For

7 Job xv. 15. 8 Ibid. iv. 19. 9 Ibid. ix. 22. 1 2 Cor. x. 15.
2 Job iv. 17. 3 Ps. cxlii. 2. * Ibid, lxxxviii. 5 Heb. ii. 11.

488 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
many are called < sons of God,' as it is said of the peace-makers,
Blessed are the peace-makers : for they shall be called the children
of God; 6 and many also ' gods,' as it is said, / have said : You are
gods, and all of you the sons of the most High? But this adoptively,
and not substantively. There is but One who is the Son of God
substantively, many adoptively ; neither one adoptively nor many
substantively. The adoptive indeed partake with the substantive,
but the substantive imparts to the adoptive ; neither does he par
take nor do they impart ; but they partake and He imparts.
" This is the Apostle's meaning, though he might seem to be
stating something contrary, when he says, Thou hast loved justice,
and hated iniquity: therefore, God, thy God, hath anointed thee
with the oil of gladness above thy fellows? He saith ' above thy
fellows' (praj participibus tuis), which sounds as if he meant that
God was a partaker, and took a part, which is altogether contrary
to truth ; for, according to the Apostle, In Him dwelleth all the
fulness of the Godhead corporally? But let us attend to the first
part that we may fully understand what follows ; for he saith,
' Thou hast loved justice,' and presently after ' God hath anointed
thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows,' and the prophet,
With my holy oil I have anointed him, the enemy shall have no
advantage over him;1 for since the Son of God loved justice by his
gift others loved it also, and were partakers of Him who loved.
But He was anointed above all, because the enemy hath no advan
tage over Him.
" Or, if you will rather have it that in his assumed human nature
He is a partaker (as the Apostle says, He is not ashamed to call
them brethren, saying, Behold I and my children, whom God hath
given me ; 2 and again, Because the children are partakers of flesh
and blood, he also himself in like manner hath been partaker of the
same),3 we must recur to the same point, that in him dwelleth all
the fulness of the Godhead corporally ;4 but as to them, to one is
given by the Spirit the word of wisdom : to another the word of
knowledge, to another the discerning of spirits, to another the grace
of healing ,5 to another something else ; and it is divided unto each
according to His will, and thus they partake, and He imparts.
And therefore though it is said of the saints, You are the lights of
the world,6 it is but by participation, and not substantially, for
they partake from Him who is the true light which enlighteneth every
man that cometh into this world? For although it is written of
John the Baptist, He was a burning and a shining light, this too is
only adoptively, and not substantively ; whence it is that the
Evangelist has in some degree exposed the weakness of John,

6 Matt. v. 9. 7 Ps. lxxxi. 6. 8 Heb. i. 9.
9 Col. ii. 9. ! Ps.lxxxviii.21,23. 2 Heb. ii. 11, 13.
3 Ibid. ii. 14. *Col.ii.9. 5 1 Cor. xii. 8, 10.
6 Matt. v. 14. 7 John i. 9.

OP MENTZ. 489
when he introduces our Lord speaking of him, and adding, And
you w.re willing for a time to rejoice in his light. They ' were
willing-,' He says ; but He is silent as to whether they did it or
not, that He might after a sort suggest by his silence that they
would lave rejoiced, but were not able; for he was a light burn
ing, but not kindling ; shining, but not enlightening. And this
eloud, so great and luminous, has passed away before the divine
Brightness, because it could not be compared unto it. For he
himself said, I am not worthy to loose the latchet of his shoes?
" Great clouds, and magnificently radiant, there have been from
the beginning of the world ; but, how great soever, they have
passed away before the divine Brightness. For I say nothing
here of the difference between that which is from eternity, and
that which is limited by time," &c.
The preacher then proceeded to speak of the in
effable glory of God, and the mystery of the Trinity
in Unity, and the essential Deity of Christ; after
which he continued thus : —
" Saying nothing, I repeat, of Him whom no clouds how radiant
soever with light can approach, this we will endeavour to teach.
He of whom it is written, There is no beauty in him, nor comeliness :
and we have seen him, and there was no sightliness, that we should
ie desirous of him ; despised, and the most abject of men, a man of
sorrows, and acquainted with infirmity ; and his look was as it were
hidden and despised, whereupon we esteemed him not, how it is that
He is also that Brightness, and that before Him the clouds have
passed away. First among the first are angels, archangels,
thrones, dominions, principalities, powers, virtues, ardent cherubim,
burning seraphim — great clouds — always in light, always of light,
always with light — yet not themselves light, or if light not un
limited, not incomprehensible. Of those it is written, He that
maketh his angels, spirits, and his ministers, a flame of fire. 9 Of
that Brightness it is written, Who being the brightness of his glory,
and the figure of his substance. They are made; He is substantive.
They innumerable ; He is one. They great ; He greater ; as it is
written, Upholding all things by the word of his power? Up
holding by the word of His power all things ; angels as well as
others." After discoursing on the superiority of the glori
fied Bedeemer over the angels, the preacher went
on : —
" But why do we depress the angelic dignity by that ineffable

8 Mark i. 7. 9 Heb. i. 7. 1 Ibid.

490 BAKDO, ARCHBISHOP
majesty ? let us make the comparison with Him in whom^ there
was no beauty nor comeliness. The Apostle saith, Again wf'ien He
bringeth in the first begotten into the world He saith : And j let all
the angels of God adore him. Who is that first begotten ?f Is it
He of whom it is said that God spared not even His own fSon ?2
Surely it is He. Surely He hath born our infirmities, and teamed
our sorrows : the chastisement of our peace was upon him? f Surely
He was reputed with the wicked,4" and yet of Him it is said, I And let
all the angels of God adore Him. Where now, I pray you.!, is that
cloud ? From the brightness that is before Him it halfe passed
away. _ £
" Now let us ascend, my brethren, let us mind the things that
are above, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God,? and let
us say in words plain, and full of the Holy Spirit (for no) man can
say, the Lord Jesus, but by the Holy Ghost), that thi/s is that
Brightness, proceeding from the true sun of the Fatherys majesty,
aud enlightening every man that cometh into the worljif, of whom
the Psalmist said, He shall continue with the sun, /and before the
moon? He says He shall continue with the sun % for none other
is there found that hath not past away at tJne brightness that is
before Him, for at the brightness thiat is before Him the
clouds pass. The sun continues "¦with the sun ; and shall
continue with the sun; for it- is said, He shall come down
like rain upon the fleece? That He might show that He had so
chosen a mother of the earth, as not to quit His Father in heaven,
He first says, ' He shall continue with the sun,' and then adds, in
his days shall justice spring up? In his days, in his saints ; that
they may be not only clouds, but days, of which days He may be
the sun, that there may be none among the sons of God, like unto
him? This is our God, and there shall no other be accounted of in
comparison of him. He found out all the way of knowledge and
gave it to Jacob his servant, and to Israel his beloved. Afterwards
he was seen upon earth, and conversed with men? Of whom the
Father's voice said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well
pleased? And the Apostle to the Ephesians, Who hath pre
destinated us unto the adoption of children through Jesus Christ
unto himself ; according to the purpose of his will ; unto the praise
of the glory of his grace, in which he hath graced us in his beloved
Son? " Let us say Jesus ; for there is no other name under heaven
given to men, whereby we must be saved? In the name of Jesus
every knee should bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under
the earth, and that every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus
Christ is in the glory of God the Father? Therefore from the

2 Bom. viii. 32. 3 Is. liii. 4, 5. * Ibid 12
6 Col. iii. 1, 2. 6 Ps. lxxii. 5. 7 Ibid. 6. 8 Ibid. 7.
9 Ps. Ixxxviii. 7. 1 Baruch iii. 36. 2 Matt. iii. 17.
3 Ephes. i. 5. 4 Acts iv. 12. * Phil. ii. 11.

OF MENTZ. 491
brightness that is before Him the clouds have passed. They have
passed,— the clouds have not been found ; all the sons of God in
bis presence, when brought into comparison with his Brightness,
before his Deity, for in the name of Jesus every knee of those in
heaven, m earth, and under the earth is bowed. This is that
bread of angels which man eat ,¦ « who saith Himself, / am the
living bread which came down from heaven ; 7 of whom John says,
He that cometh from heaven is above all? How great is He, Lord
in heaven, on earth a servant, as it is written, He emptied himself,
taking the form of a servant? In heaven the Creator, on earth
created, as it is written, Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above,
and let the clouds rain the just ; let the earth be opened, and bud
forth a Saviour; and let justice spring up together ; 1 and immedi
ately, / the Lord have created him? Who is like unto thee among
the strong, 0 Lord ? who is like to thee, glorious in holiness, terrible
and praiseworthy, doing wonders? Hast not thou struck the proud
one, and wounded the dragon ? hast not thou dried up the sea, the
water of the mighty deep, who madest the depth of the sea a way, that
the delivered might pass over ? 4 They that hope in the Lord shall
renew their strength, they shall take wings as eagles, they shall run
and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. Whither shall
they run ? To thy holy habitation? which thy hands, 0 Lord, have
established6 taken up on thine outspread wings,1 that they may be
carried in thy strength?
" When he had said this, the holy Bishop groaned within him
self; and his eyes filling with tears, and despising his earthly
habitation, he exclaimed: 'For what have I in heaven ? and besides
thee what do I desire upon earth ?9 and again, But it is good forme
to adhere to my God, to put my hope in the Lord God . that I may
declare all thy praises, in the gates of the daughter of Sion1 Dearly
beloved, he resumed, we are now the sons of God ; and it hath not
yet appeared what we shall be. We know, that, when he shall
appear, we shall be like to him : because we shall see him as he is?
We shall see Him. Whom? That divine Brightness, or that
true Sun of which it is written, Unto you that fear my name the
Sun of justice shall arise? and we shall shine as the sun in his
kingdom4 — his, of whom allpaternity in heaven and earth is named?
this Sun having risen upon all who have increased even to per
fect day6 from the beginning of the world. Our Fathers, who
were worthy to be called Stars, have given light ; they were called
and they said, Here we are : and with cheerfulness they have

6 Ps. lxxvii. 25. 7 John vi. 51. 8 Ibid. iii. 31. 9 Phil. ii. 7.
1 Isaiah xlv. 8. 2 Ibid. 3 Ex. xv. 11. 4 Isa. Ii. 9.
5 Ex. xv. 13. 6 Ib. xv. 17. 7 Ib. xix. 4. 8 Ib. xv. 13.
9 Ps. lxxii. 25. 1 Ibid. 28. 2 1 John iii. 2. 3 Mal. iv. 2.
4 Matt. xiii. 43. 5 Ephes. iii. 15. 6 Prov. iv. 18.

492 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
shined forth to him that made them? None is found who in any
thing excelled Him who for our sake was made man, so as
among the glorious to excel Him in glory, or among the lowly in
humiliation. " Of Abel indeed it is written that because of his innocence
after he had been slain his blood cried from the earth to heaven?
A wonderful thing, that the silent blood of one thus silent should
cry out; but what saith the apostle of Jesus ? You are come to
Jesus the Mediator of the New Testament, and to the sprinkling
of blood which speaketh better than that of Abel?
" Noe was a just and perfect man in his generations, he walked
with God ; 1 to whom God after the deluge was abated," &c.
The preacher then went on with the history of
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron,
SamueJ, Solomon, Elijah, and Elisha; and having
said something of each of these, in a style which
may be imagined from the foregoing extracts, he
asked — "But why should I enlarge? Those clouds
are great, but from the Brightness that was before
Him they have passed away ; " and thus pro
ceeded : —
" There is also another way of explaining this saying. You
know the sun, you know its rays, you know the clouds. The clouds
which are at a distance, opposite to the sun's rays, shine as long as
they are thus before the sun, and as they approach nearer, so much
the more brightly do they shine ; but if the sun and the clouds
come to be in the very same place, so that where the sun is above
there the clouds are below, they are neither called clouds, nor are
they so in fact, but all the brightness is ascribed to the sun.
What shall we call this, my brethren, but in some sort a type of
the kingdom of heaven ? What do the clouds (so called from
nubilo, i.e., from obscurity) represent, but the human race, be
clouded with the night of sin ? What does the splendour of the
sun represent, but the light of the divine Brightness ? What the
rays, but the illuminating works of Christ ? The clouds then, in
their own nature obscure, shine when breathed on by the rays of
the sun, because human littleness shines when illuminated by the
works of Christ. The nearer it approaches to the true Sun, so
much the brighter will it be ; and powers which by its own nature
it had not, it receives by the illumination of Christ the true
Sun; but if it shall attain to that same point of divine operation,

7 Baruch iii. 34. 8 Gen. iv. 10. 9 Heb. xii. 22, 24.
1 Gen. vi. 9.

OF MENTZ. 493
which is perfectly to give up the world, and with sedulous con
templation to look only to the divine will, and, with the Apostle,
to say, But oar conversation is in heaven ; 2 then it partakes in the
name of Deity, so that it ought to be called, not man, but even
God. Whence our Lord, in the gospel, when He had prayed for
his disciples, said, Not for them only do I pray, but for them also
who through their word shall believe in me ; that they all may be
one, as thou, Father, in me, and I in thee : that they also may be one
in us? Not only that they may be called one in us, which is great,
but that they may be one in us, which is greatest. That they may
be, he says, one in us, that is, that these clouds following me, the
sun may, in my brightness, lose the nature of clouds, and be sun."
These extracts may give the reader some idea of
the sermon, and whatever a severe criticism might
find to say respecting the taste or the truth of some
of the applications, I feel that I may confidently ask,
whether it does not imply a greater familiarity with
the scriptures in both the preacher and the hearers,
than most people would give them credit for ?
When it is considered how small a part I have
given, and that the whole is characterized by the
same biblical phraseology, it really does appear to
me surprising how any man could, on such notice,
put together such a string of texts, at a period when
concordances, commonplace books, and other "pulpit
assistants " had not been invented. Yet where is
there ground for any suspicion of fraud ? I am
almost ashamed to say such a thing of Mabillon,
who has printed the Sermon ; 4 but still, as many
good protestants know nothing of him, or only
know that he was a papist, I must ask what he could
get by misrepresenting the matter, and printing a
long sermon by a canonized saint of the eleventh
century, based on the scriptures only, and contain
ing nothing in favour of any one of those things
which protestants justly consider as the corruptions
of popery ? Still less can we imagine fraud on the
part of a contemporary biographer ; or, if we can, it
2 Phil. iii. 20. 3 John xvii. 20.
4 Act. SS. Ord. Ben. Sasc. VI. P. ii. p. 14.

494 BARDO, ARCHBISHOP
is obviously a greater wonder that some anonymous
monk should have forged a sermon of such a
description, than that it should have been actually
made by a prelate who had some reputation for
talent, piety, and learning. There is only one other
supposition, namely, that it was forged by some
person or persons unknown between the supposed
time of the biographer and that at which the manu
script containing it was discovered by Father Bape-
broche ; and of the three suppositions this is perhaps
the most improbable, not to say, absurd.
But what did the audience think of the sermon ?
Was the unhappy preacher really casting pearls
before swine, in thus profusely quoting a book the
very existence of which was unknown to them ?
Surely, if they knew nothing of the Bible, they must
have wondered what he was talking about, and what
he was driving at ; and have sorely repented that
they had expressed discontent with his former brief
performance. Surely if the emperor participated in
" the blind hatred of the half barbarian kings of
feudal Europe," and the audience in " the fanatical
furies of their ignorant people," 5 by which we are
told that the scriptures were so cruelly and hate
fully oppressed, such a preacher was likely to be
torn in pieces. But nothing of the sort appears
to have happened. The people certainly were
astonished, and it is said that they unanimously
agreed, that the preacher was a highly fit man to be
archbishop.6 " But," says his biographer, " his
detractors were covered with shame ; " and when
the company sat down to table the emperor said,
with a cheerful countenance, " ' I must keep the
feast of the Nativity to-day, for the company of

6 See page 224.
6 In the first edition I said "Pope; " I now alter it in deference
to a learned friend ; though I do not feel absolutely and entirely
convinced that I am making it more correct. The words are " voce
omnium praedicabatur dignus esse, qui summus fieret Episcopus."

OF MENTZ. 495
those who were tearing us to pieces is silent in con
fusion.' And then again, as if his great joy made
him talk nonsense (ex nimia lastitia quasi desipiens),
* Where,' said he, ' are our detractors ? ' and he
ordered that water should be poured on the bishop's
hands first of all. But the bishop, who had ex
hibited no sadness two days before, made no show
of joy on this day. As he was then silent respecting
those who blamed him, so he was now of those who
praised him ; which rendering him more and more
an object of admiration, from that time forth he be
came very great." He was indeed for twenty years
in that high office ; whether he went on preaching
the Bible, whether nobody but himself understood
his sermons, and whether he was the only person
who preached in that way, are matters worthy of
inquiry.

496

NOTES.

Note A. on p. 184.
Father Ceppi and Mabillon.
When I originally published these essays, and when I reprinted
them, I took the " Historia Dissidii Litterarii," which Father Porta
annexes to his translation of Mabillon's book, for an original work,
and quoted it as such . Imight have known better if I had carefully
dissected the long title-page of the Appendix containing that
History, which was, I suppose, unobserved from its occurring near
the middle of the volume. That would have told me that the
account of the controversy had been "gallice concinnata" by Dom
Vincent Thuillier, and only translated into Latin by Father Porta.
I have altered the passage accordingly.
I have also corrected another mistake. I said that Father
Ceppi's work was " very near getting into the Expurgatory Index."
I was probably led to use that phrase by the specification which I
found of the particular passages which were objected to, and on the
removal of which the publication was allowed ; the case really
being (as I have now stated it), that he had difficulty in getting
permission to print it at all. My error was pointed out by a writer
under the signature of B. G. in the Irish Ecclesiastical Journal for
April, 1844. Note B. on p. 282.
Warton's History of English Poetry.
I have given several specimens of the inaccuracy of Warton's
statements, feeling it to be the more necessary because he is one of
the popular writers whose works are read by many, who, though
well informed on other subjects, are wholly unacquainted with the
dark ages, and not really studying, or particularly inquiring about
them. They do, however, almost unconsciously, or at least
unintentionally, form an opinion respecting that period from broad
general statements, and little detached facts, one being very com
monly given as if it were a sufficient voucher for the other, and
both coming in quite incidentally as matters perfectly notorious 
as things so far from wanting proof themselves, that they are only
brought in to prove other things.

NOTE B. 497
It is clear that in this way errors of a very gross kind are likely
to become more popularly diffused, than if they were found in works
formally didactic, and read only by those who would bring some
spirit of inquiry, and probably some previous knowledge, to the
study of them. If, for instance, a writer on Gardening tells his
readers that they must not expect China roses to retain in England
all the fragrance which belongs to them in their native country,
where the thermometer is never below 200° Fahrenheit, and in
another part of this work explains that the reason why China asters
do not grow spontaneously in this country is, that we are not
subject to heavy rains continuing without intermission for five or
six years at a time, so that our daisies never grow to that enormous
size — if there is not a word more about China in his book, or a
thought or idea about China in his reader's mind, the probability
is that that reader will carry away a very strange notion of the
country ; and, if the gardening book is popular, it is probable
that more persons will be misled than if the same statements were
made in a scientific work on the climate and produce of China,
which would scarcely be opened by any who Were not capable of
detecting such gross absurdities. Gross they are, but not more so
than Warton's. Take, for instance, one or two of his statements: —
" Alfred, while a boy, had himself experienced the inconveniences
arising from a want of scholars, and even of common instructors, in
his dominions : for he was twelve years of age, before he could pro
cure in the western kingdom a master properly qualified to teach
him the alphabet. But, while yet unable to read, he could repeat
from memory a great variety of Saxon songs." Diss. II. Sig. d.
The authority for this plain broad statement is given thus in a
note : —
" Flor. Vigorn. sub ann. 871. Brompton, Chron. in Alfr. p.
814. And MS. Bever, ut supr."
How many of Warton's readers have turned to Florence of
Worcester and John Brompton (to say nothing of the MS. at
Oxford), to see whether they were fairly quoted, and do really say
what Warton professes to state on their authority ? Whoever
does so will surely be astonished to find them expressly contradict
ing what they are said to affirm, and will wonder how any man
could so misrepresent their statement. Florence of Worcester1
1 Florence of Worcester says : — " Sed (proh dolor) suorum parentum et
nutritorum inouria usque ad 12. astatis annum illiteratus permansit.
Saxonica tamen poemata die nootuque solera auditor, relatu aliorum
ssepissime audiens, docibilis memoriter retinebat." He then relates the
story of his mother's showing to him and his brothers a book, and promising
to give it to that one which should first be able to read it, and tells us that
Alfred obtained it, and afterwards always carried a book in his bosom, Seo.,
and then he adds "6ed (proh dolor) qnod maxime desiderabat, liberalem
scilicet artem, desiderio suo non suppetebat eo qnod illo tempore grammatici
in toto regno occidentalium Saxonum non erant."
John Brompton's account is much the same. His words are " Cum autem
K K

498 NOTE B.
says that through the neglect of his parents, and those who had the
care of him (he does not say for any want of teachers), Alfred
remained unlettered till his twelfth year. He then tells the
well-known story of his mother's promising to give a book to that
one of her children who should first be able to read it, and of
Alfred's gaining the prize. We are not told how he learned to read
that book, or the other which from that time he used to carry
about in his bosom ; but we are told that when he wished to proceed
farther in learning (tiberalem scilicet artem), he could not have his
desire because there were no "grammatici" at that time in the
kingdom of the West Saxons. How is it possible to account for
so gross a misrepresentation ? It may be said that the statement
that there were not teachers of the liberal arts implies a low state
of learning among the West Saxons at that period ; but why is
that fact to be exaggerated ? Are we when we want to make a fine
story about the wealth of England in these days, to say that at the
accession of George the Third the people of England had not a
morsel of bread to eat ? Is it any excuse that when we are charged
with lying, and pushed hard, we are able to say, " Well, but really
now you must yourself acknowledge that game was hardly to be
procured for love or money." That may be true and singular, but
the marvel of a nation subsisting without bread, and all the
marvellous deductions from that marvellous fact, are clean gone,
and our confidence in the historian must surely go with them.
But let us take another matter of fact ; at least what is set forth
as one by Warton in' the same simple, concise, unqualified manner.
It is just one of the things which speak volumes to the meanest
capacities. The reader sees at once in what a pretty state things
must have been : —
" About the year 1120, one master Hugh, being appointed by the
convent of St. Edmondsbury in Suffolk, to write and illuminate a
grand copy of the Bible for their library, could procure no parch
ment for this purpose in England." Diss. II. Sig. g.
The authority for this is contained in a note at the foot of the
page, which is as follows : —
" Monast. Angl. i. p. 200. In the great revenue roll of one
year of John Gerveys, Bishop of Winchester, I find expended ' In
parcheamento empto ad rotulos, vs.' This was a considerable sum
plus cseteris fratribus ab utroque parente dilectus, usque ad xij. setatis annum
in paterna curia illiteratus mansisset, Saxonica tamen poemata docilis puer
memoriter tenuit, in arte venatoria summus, psalmos et orationes in unum
libellum compegit, quem secum jugiter oircnmduxit, grammaticam tamen
minus perfecte attigit, eo quod tunc temporis in toto occidentali regno nullus
grammatics doctor extitit, quamobrem ad consilium beati Neoti abbatis,
quem crebro visitaverat, scolas publicas variarum artium apud Oxoniam
primus instituit," &c. — Apud X. Scrip, col. 8H.
The reference " MS. Bever, ut supr." relates to a fuller reference, " MS
Bever. MSS. Coll. Trin. Oxon. Codd. xlvii, f. 82." A friend has been so kind
as to look at the MS. and send me an extract, which is almost in the very
words of John Brompton.

NOTE B. 499
for such a commodity in the year 1266. But as the quantity or
number of the rolls is not specified, no precise conclusion can be
drawn. Comp. MS. Membran. in Archiv. Wulves. Winton.
Compare Anderson Comm. i. 153. sub ann. 1313."
It is true enough that "no precise conclusion" can be drawn from
such premises. What indeed but confusion of ideas can be drawn
from attaching to a statement so plain and unequivocal, other matter
so vague and so irrelevant ? Here is in the text a plain fact stated,
— that in 1120 Master Hugh could procure no parchment in
England to write a Bible on ; and what is the use, or the sense, of
telling us in a note that one hundred and forty-six years afterwards
the Bishop of Winchester paid five shillings for an unknown
quantity of parchment, which, for anything that appears, he did not
get " in England " any more than Master Hugh ?
This may probably seem to the reader like quibbling, and he
may be ready to say, " Oh, of course, if Master Hugh could not
get parchment in England he could not get it at all ; indeed it is
not likely that the stupid monk knew that there was any place in
the world except England — 'the monks of Ferrieres, in the
diocese of Sens, did not know that there was such a city as Tournay
in Flanders ' — and Master Hugh, of Bury St. Edmond's, was not
likely to be better informed ; and of course the romantic idea of
writing a Bible was abandoned."
Now it is just in this way that falsehood is engendered. The
story as Warton tells it is not only a foolish, but a false one. The
gist of it is to show the barbarous destitution of the period ; and
this is very much assisted by turning this Suffolk monk's own
neighbourhood (which, one can hardly doubt, was all that was
meant by " in partibus nostris ") into all England, and cutting the
story short without telling us (as Warton's authority does) that
what Master Hugh could not get in his own neighbourhood he did
get from Scotland. There was parchment there it seems, and the
English monk knew it, and knew how to get it, and did get it, and
the great Bible was written ; and if we are to wonder and be con
founded, at the thought that there was no parchment in England,
let us equally wonder and be amazed that there was parchment in
Scotland, and that there was this traffic between the places —
but this part of the business is not stated.
Yet that even this is not the whole story, will, I think, be
apparent to anyone who fairly considers Warton's authority. It
is probably one of those little facts (like Haimon's Homilies)
which have come down to us so briefly and imperfectly told that
without some explanation we cannot fully understand them.2 It
2 I do not know whether anything is to be found respecting this occur
rence, except in Dugdale's Mouasticon, to which Warton refers. At page
300 (not 200) of the first volume we have the following brief statement : —
" Iste Harveus, frater Taleboti Prioris omnes expensas invenit fratri suo
Priori inscribendo magnam bibliothecam, et manu magistri Hugonis incom-
parabiliter fecit depingi. Qui cum non inveniret in partibus nostris pelles
vitnlinas, in Scotise partibus parchamentum comparavit."

500 NOTE B.
seems that the Sacrist thought fit to make a present of a great
Bible to be written for the use of the monastery, and incomparably
illuminated by Master Hugh, and that he wanted vellum, and not
what we now call parchment.3 That the word " parchamentum "
might be used with more laxity to describe the material by the
writer who relates the story of Master Hugh, in order to avoid
repetition, is very possible ; but he says expressly, that what was
not to be found " in partibus nostris " was not parchment but
vellum, " pelles vitulinas ; " and it is reasonable to suppose that it
was something out of the common way that was wanted for the in
comparable artist on so important an occasion.
Let us, however, look at another of Warton's stories : —
" Towards the close of the seventh century, even in the Papal
library at Bome, the number of books was so inconsiderable, that
pope St. Martin requested Sanctamand, Bishop of Maestricht, if
possible, to supply this defect from the remotest parts of Germany."
Diss. II. Sig. a. 3.
The authority given for this is : —
" Concil. Tom. xv. p. 285. edit. Paris, 1641."
How Warton could write this, or how anyone possessed by the
popular notion of the dark ages could read it, without being
staggered, I am at a loss to conceive. Surely their previous idea
would be that " towards the close of the seventh century " if there
were books anywhere it was at Bome, and in the Pope's Library, if
he had one. They might not, perhaps, have been surprised to
learn that he had none ; but even then to find him, instead of
rejoicing in his darkness, anxious to remedy such a state of things
amidst all the trials and troubles of his sad and turbulent pontificate
— to hear him crying and craving " Books, books, prithee Sancta
mand send us books, from the remotest part of Germany " — truly
this must be a matter of great astonishment. For to be sure, he
did not send there only, or as the place of all others, but every
where, and would have sent to the back settlements of America
if there had been any ; but then such an oecumenical and fervent
search for books, carried on by the Pope of Bome, would equally
cross the popular view of the Dark Ages.
But the follower of Warton must take the fact as he finds it,
logic and all. The number of books in the Pope's Library, in the
seventh century, was so inconsiderable that he requested Sancta
mand to supply the defect " from the remotest " parts of Germany,
" if possible " — a sly clause put in to save his infallibility in case
anything in, or beyond, nature should have exhausted that great
storehouse of literature, remotest Germany. If the number of his
books had not been so inconsiderable, he might, perhaps, havecon-

3 " Among traders the skins of sheep are called parchment, those of calves
vellum." — Johnson.

NOTE B. 501
tented himself with sending to the less remote parts of Germany ;
for the bishop of Maestricht, who lived in the very least remote
parts of Germany, would have to send a good way in order to
execute his Holiness's commission. One hardly knows whether to
say that the story would have been rendered more or less credible
if Warton had added that the Pope knew that Sanctamand was in
the habit of attending the Frankfort and Leipsic fairs, and could
therefore get him the newest books and best editions at a liberal
discount for ready money, and send them without much trouble by
the Parcels Delivery Company.
But the oddest part of some of these stories is the way in which
they vanish, when once they are fairly looked in the face. One
may sometimes meet with an exaggeration, and perceive clearly
the temptation that the writer was under to embellish, or one may
detect a mistake, and see how a man might naturally fall into it ;
but some of these stories seem positively to have no ground or
Origin, and the authorities afford no explanation of the way by
which they came into existence. There certainly is extant a letter
— and I believe but one — from Pope Martin to St. Amand, Bishop
of Maestricht, and it is given along with the rest of that pope's
letters in the Councils : and I daresay it would have been given in
the edition of Paris, 1641, if there had been such an edition, for it
is given (I learn by the kindness of a friend) in that of 1644,
which is no doubt the edition meant by Warton. But really when
I originally referred to the letter in my own copy of Labbe and
Cossart, I could only imagine that in some other edition to which
I had not then access, there must be something quite different
from what I found, and I said nothing about the matter. Having,
however, now learned that in the edition of 1644, Vol. XV. p.
285 (agreeing with Warton's reference), the letter stands just as
it does in my own copy, I can only say that I am at a loss to
account for so extraordinary a misstatement. In that letter the
Pope is so far from begging books from the remotest part of
Germany, or anywhere else, that he makes an apology, plainly
indicating that St. Amand had been begging books from him.
St. Amand had sent a letter to the Pope, the principal object of
which was to obtain permission to resign his see. The Pope sent
him a long reply, in which he encouraged him to persevere, and
took the opportunity of writing to him on one or two other points;
but I do not see one word in the letter which can possibly have
any connection with the matter now before us except the follow
ing :—
"Beliquias vero sanctorum, de quibus preesentium lator nos
admonuit, dari prsecepimus. Nam codices jam exinaniti sunt a
nostra bibliotheca, et unde ei dare nullatenus habuimus ; trans-
cribere autem non potuit, quoniam festinanter de hac civitate
regredi properavit." — Lab. Cone. VI. 385.
Now how was it possible for any man to make up such a story

502 NOTE c.
from these materials ? One could more easily have imagined a
hasty writer to have taken up the notion that the Pope actually
had no books, though the difference between " having nothing "
and " having nothing to give w is very plain in itself, and very
well understood by suitors ; and it is rendered perfectly obvious
here by the statement that the messenger was only hindered from
transcribing by his haste to return. There were books to copy, it
seems, if there were none to give.4
It is only when we keep in mind such specimens of qualification
as these that we are not surprised, and scarcely offended, to find
the Oxford Professor talking of " Voltaire, a writer of much deeper
research than is imagined, and the first who has displayed the
literature and customs of the dark ages with any degree of pene
tration and comprehension." — Diss. I. Sig. c. b.
Note C. on p. 296, n.
Destruction of MSS.
It seems worth while to add two instances, one English and the
other French, of the destruction of MSS. by those who were their
guardians, and who seem to have been influenced by religious
(if one ought not rather to say, party) feeling. It is the more
necessary because it is hard to conceive of such things ; and the
circumstances of the latter case in particular lead one to apprehend
that the matter was not the act of a stupid fanatical individual, but
a practice encouraged by those who had it in their power to do,
and certainly did, much mischief; and that not only openly, but
by private means, less easily detected.
Henry Wharton, in the preface to his Anglia Sacra, after stat
ing the impossibility of rivalling works of a similar nature which
had been published respecting France and Italy, owing to the
destruction of manuscripts at the suppression of monasteries, &c,
says, that he had met with a case in which a bishop avowedly, with
the design of getting rid of popery, had burned all the Begisters
and documents belonging to his see.5 He does not name him; and,
without inquiring who he was, we will charitably hope that he acted

4 Since this was written I have locked into Fleury, who gives the meaning
of the passage thus, with the same remark on it : — " Nous avons fait donner
au porteur les reliques qu'il a demandees. Car pour les livres, nous n'avons
pu lui donner, parce que notre bibliotheque est vuide : et il etoit si presse
de s'en retourner, qu'il n'a pu en transcrire." He adds, " Ces dernieres
paroles font voir, qu'il restoit des livres dans le bibliotheque du pape, mais
qu'il n'y avoit paB assez d'exemplaires du meme auteur, pour en donner ou
en prater aux etrangers." — Sist. Secies. Liv. XXXVf.II. S lvi. Tom
VIII. p. 488.
5 " Comperi enim Episcopum quendam ante centum et quod excurrit
annos, avitse superstitionis delendse praetextu, omnia Ecclesias suse monu-
menta et Registra igni tradidisse." Vol. I. p. x.

NOTE D. 503
in stupid sincerity, and was the only English prelate that ever did
such a thing, or anything like it.
But there is a French story, more surprising and pregnant, and
forming a valuable commentary on many sad passages in Martene's
literary tour, which might otherwise be thought to bear marks of
prejudice against the protestant party. But this fact, coming as
it does from themselves, is beyond suspicion ; and it is briefly as
follows : — At the" Quatrieme Synode National des Eglises Befor-
mees de France, tenu a Lion le 10 Aout, 1563, L'An III. du
Begnede Charles IX., Boide France. Monsieur Pierre Viret, alors
Ministre de l'Eglise de Lion, elu pour Moderateur et pour Secre
taire," among the " Faits particuliers " which were discussed and
decided, No. XL VII. is thus stated : —
" Un Abbe parvenu a la connoissance de l'Evangile, aiant abatu
les Idoles, brule' ses Titres, pourveu aux besoins de ses moines, sans
qu'il ait permis depuis six ans qu'il se soit chantg Messe dans son
Abbaye, ne fait aucun exercice du service de l'Eglise Bomaine,
mais au contraire s'est toujours montre fidele, et a porte les armes
pour maintenir l'Evangile. On demande s'il doit etre recu a, la
Cene ? Reponse. Oiii." Aymon, Syn. Nat. Tom. I. p. 45.
We cannot here indulge any such charitable hope as that which
I suggested in the preceding case ; for the point which seizes our
attention is not the act of the individual, but the approbation of
the National Synod. The matter is quaintly entered in the Index,
and in plainer terms than those in which it was submitted to the
assembled divines : — " Abbe recu a la Cene pour avoir brule ses
Titres, abatu les Images de l'Eglise de son Convent, et portg les
Armes pour maintenir les Predicateurs Beformes. Pag. 45."
Note D. on p. 307, n.
Difficulty of access to MSS.
I lately found among my papers a fragment which appears to
have been cut off from the Note at p. 307. The Note was certainly
long enough without it ; but as the fragment contains some further
illustrations of the subject, and of rather a different kind, I here
subjoin it : —
" Indeed they had sometimes a little difficulty in dealing with
Abbesses, whose suspicions, considering their helpless condition,
may be forgiven, though they sometimes produced amusing results.
The Abbess of S. Menoust (a niece of the Pere de la Chaise) could
do nothing without consulting her superior, the Cardinal de Bouillon,
and therefore did nothing at all."6 When Martene paid his com
pliments to the superior of the Carmelites at Nevers, and inquired
their founder's name and the date of their foundation, " cette pro-
6 1. Voy. Lit. 45.

504 NOTE E.
position demonta tellement cette bonne fille, qu'elle s'ecria : ' He
pourquoy me demandez-vous cela, mon pere ? n'est-ce pas pour
mettre encore de nouveaux impots sur notre maison ? nous en avons
deja tant paye que nous avons ete obligees pour y satisfaire d'em-
prunter une somme considerable, dont nous payons la rente'; '" and
it was not until after consultation with her " directeur," and his
assurance that it would be an honour for her convent to be noticed
in the learned work which was projected, that she produced the
deed of foundation. The old Cistercian Abbess of Ostine took
fright, and could scarcely be beaten out of her notion that these
Benedictine monks were going to claim a visitatorial power, which
she declared that none but those of her own order should ever exer
cise in her house ;8 and two out of three Abbesses at Metz refused
positively. The other " communiqua tout ce qui etoit dans ses
archives, parce qu'elle aime sa maison, et qu'elle est bien-aise qu'on
scache ce qu'elle a toujours ete." A pretty strong hit at the other
two; but in fact he goes on to tell the world that they wanted to
secularize into canonesses, and to conceal that they were properly
and originally nuns. " Mais elles ont beau faire," says the malicious
monk, " toute la posterite sgaura que sainte Waldrade, premiere
Abbesse de S. Pierre, etoit religieuse ; " and he goes on to show
that he could prove all that they wished to conceal, without being
indebted to their manuscripts.9 Note E. on p. 398.
Dovetailing of Letters.
When I said that old letters, if brought out from various sources,
would "dove-tail" greatly to the illustration of each other and of
history, I might (if I had then known it) have quoted a singular
instance which had recently occurred.
In the " State Papers published under the authority of his
Majesty's Commission, Volume I., King Henry the Eighth, Parts
I. and II. 1830," there are (Part II. p. 883) two letters from
Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester ; one to the king, and the other
to Sir William Paget, requesting him to deliver it to his Majesty.
Both letters are dated December 2. A note on the letter to the
king says, " This letter is holograph, and a contemporary indorse
ment fixes its date to 1546." Another note says, " The tenth
instrument signed by stamp in December, 1546, is a letter to the
Bishop of Winchester in answer to his letters to the king, con
cerning an exchange of land desired by the king." The reader
will remember that Henry VIII. died on January 28, 1547, and
that during some time previous, the royal name was affixed to
instruments by a stamp, because, as was said, the king could not

7 Ibid. 50. 8 Ibid. P. ii. 187. 9 Ibid. 115.

NOTE P. 505
write his name. But where is this No. 10 ? where is the stamped
instrument containing the king's answer to Gardiner ? Why it
had been printed and published hundreds of years before these
State Papers were issued. It is not wonderful that it should have
been long unobserved, not only because it is not a document of
much interest, or very intelligible, in itself, but because it existed
only, so far as I know, in the first edition of Fox's Martyrology,
which is a very rare book. Having had a good deal to do with
that work, I have happened to see it. It stands at p. 801, and
purports to have been " Yeuen vnder our signet, at our maner of
Otelands, the iiii. of Deceber the xxxviii. yere of our reigne." It
was, I believe, omitted in every subsequent edition, uirtil it was
recently restored in the comic edition of Messrs. Seeley, which was
not begun till after the publication of the volume of State Papers
alluded to. The letter and answer therefore may now, after a
separation of nearly three hundred years, be placed side by side ;
and though, as I have said, the subject matter is not very intel
ligible or of any great consequence, yet I venture to say that, from
other circumstances, which it would be tedious here to detail, these
three letters are amongst the most important documents which
exist with reference to the History of the Beformation.
[Since this note was added to the second edition I have printed
both the Letters, with some remarks tending to show their impor
tance, in my Essays on Subjects connected with the Beformation
in England, No. XVI. p. 330.]
Note F. on p. 450.
Commercium Librorum.
Ant reader who may wish to pursue this subject, which is surely
one of the most interesting connected with the history of the dark
ages, will find a great deal of curious matter in Pez's " Codex
Diplomatico-historico-epistolaris," which forms the sixth volume
of his " Thesaurus Anecdotorum Novissimus."
I have had occasion to speak of the monastery of Tegernsee at
p. 429. According to Pez, it was under the government of the
Abbot Gozpert from a.d. 983 — 1001 ; and he gives a good many
letters by and to him and his monks. The reader will therefore
bear in mind that the writers of all those which I here mention
lived in the tenth century.
A letter from the Abbot Bomuald, Abbot of St. Emmeram's at
Batisbon, requesting the loan of a " Librum plenarias collationis,"
in order that it might be copied. Col. 121.
Another to " Domnus H.," to borrow the third part of the Tri
partite History for the same purpose. Col. 127.
Froumond (a monk of Tegernsee, but who seems to have been
at, and quitted, another monastery) to Gozpert, begging parch
ment. Col. 158.

506 NOTE G.
The same to the same, vehemently protesting that he had not
stolen the abbot's book, " librum vestrum M." Col. 159.
Beginbald (probably, says Pez, a monk of St. Emmeram s), to
Froumund (not, as Pez entitles it, sending him a Persius, but),
returning him some book which he had borrowed, and asking for a
Persius. Col. 160.
The same to the same, sending him the remainder of a book
which he had asked for, desiring that he would make his copy and
return it as soon as possible, because he had yielded to his im
portunity, and sent ft without the knowledge of its owner— that
he could not at that time meet the wish of Froumund and
Master Meginhelme, because though the book thus wanted was
in their library, he doubted of its correctness ; but he would
see, and if it appeared that it would be of service to them,
would endeavour to bring it when he should come to them. Col.
162. Froumund to Beginbald, to lend him a Horace to copy a
morsel which their book did not contain — if he had not that at
hand to send some other book that would be useful to them,
and to return a book of his which he had, by the bearer. Col.
163. The same to the same, rebuking him for sending back his book
in such a condition— crumpled, dirty, and without the map of the
world which had been at the beginning: "totum rugosum, cceno-
sum, parteque disruptum . . . circulus continens scripturam
quatuor plagarum mundi." Col. 164.
The same to the same, begging him to lend a Statius, or, if
offended, to return him his book. Col. 164.
The same to P. (probably his Abbot) relates to the transcription
of Boethius, and about copies of Juvenal and Persius, Arith-
meticas Boethii, and the liber Inveetivarum Tullii Ciceronis in
Salustium. Col. 166. Note G. on p. 472.
John of Gorze.

It may amuse the reader to know, and it is peculiarly charac
teristic of the mode in which the history of [the Dark Ages has
been treated, to observe, that John of Gorze is coupled with
Meinwerc, by Brucker, as a specimen of those deplorable block
heads who " infantum more balbutiebant summamque exoscu-
labantur ignorantiam." After speaking of the numerous proofs
of darkness collected by the learned, and giving a general reference
to their works, he says : —
" Nos speciminis loco unum modo alterumque adducimus exem-
plum ; loannem abbatem Gorziensem (cujus vitam scripsit loannes

NOTE H. 507
abbas S. Arnulfi Metis, quam exhibent Bollandus et socii et Mabil-
lonius), neglecto non modo qnadrivio sed et trivio, ' primas tantum
partes Donati ex Bernero audivisse, eaque introduetoria aspersione
contentum divinis se omnino transtulisse scriptis : ' et Meinwercum
episcopum Paderbornensem ne recte legere quidem potuisse, et in
psalterio legisse : ' Benedic domine regibus et reginis mulis et mula
bus tuis, pro famulis et famulabus tuis.' Unde vix credi potest,
quod idem vita? Meinwerci scriptor refert, ' studiorum multiplicia
sub eo floruisse exercitia, et bona? indolis juvenes et pueros fuisse
institutos.' Neque mirum ; puerum enim quinquennem Eriberti
Aquitanias ducis filium adhuc dvaX(j)dj3rjTov archiepiscopum Bemen-
sem constitutum fuisse, narrat, et indignatur Baronius."1
But in what different lights people view the same thing. I
should have thought that the acquirements which I have men
tioned in the text might have constituted John of Gorze some
thing like a learned man, but his unfortunate confession about
Donatus seems to have satisfied the Historian of Philosophy that
he must have been a blockhead. Note H. on p. 476.
D'Aubigne's History of the Reformation.
The following letter appeared in the Becord Newspaper for
December 12, 1844. It is so curious and so characteristic of the
school of writers to which M. D'Aubigne and his newspaper friends
belong, that I am desirous to preserve it, and lay it before my
readers, few of whom are likely to have seen the unfortunate pub
lication in which it appeared.2
LETTER TO AN ENGLISH CLEBGYMAN, IN EEPLY TO HIS INQTTIBIES
EESPECTING SOME BEMABKS OP ME. MAITLAND IN HIS WOEK ON
" THE DAEK AGES," AGAINST D'AUBIGNE'S " HISTORY OE THE EEFOE-
MATION." " Geneva, Dec. 2, 1844.
"Dear Brother, — Nothing equals the ignorance, the levity, and the bad
faith, that the greater part of the Popish writers on the Continent show on
1 Hist. Phil. Tom. iii. p. 634. Brucker's explanation of the cause of this
desperate ignorance is worth notice. A child of the Count of Vermandoia
(not the Duke of Aquitaine of all people) is elected Archbishop of Eheims,
that being his father's way of seizing the power and property of the see.
The King of France supports him. A vicious pope is brought to allow it,
but has the decency to insist on delegating the spiritual function to the
contiguous bishop of Soissons. No wonder John did not read Donatus, and
Meinwerc could not read the Psalter — but did Brucker mean that Baronius
was more indignant than the contemporary historian of this scandalous
usurpation 1
2 In case such readers should observe certain peculiarities in the German
or Latin, it is due to myself and to the printer to say that we have en
deavoured to give the letter most exactly. It may be doubted whether the
Record ever had any person connected with it who was capable of correcting
the press in any language but his own, if even in that.

508 NOTE H.
the subject of the Reformation and the Reformers. They repeat incessantly
the most ridiculous stories, the falsity of which has been proved a hundred
times. Will your Crypto-Papists of England enter the same course 1 I
should not be surprised. I have already had many attacks again3t my
History of the Reformation, proceeding from the Traotarian party, either
in Great Britain or America. J have no intention of replying to them, but
I will however say some words upon that which you communicate in your
last letter.
" It appears that Mr. Maitland, in his work on the Darle Ages, throws
doubt on my account of the manner in which Luther found the Bible in the
University of Erfurth. He seems to think (his book has not yet reached
Geneva) that the Holy Scriptures were too generally spread under the
Papacy before the Beformation, for Luther not to have been already
acquainted with them. The argument which he makes use of is remark
able. ' Luther,' says he, ' had read the writings of Occam, Scot, Bonaven-
tura, aud Thomas Aquinas. These Doctors knew the Bible ; Luther must
then have heard it spoken of.' But I have said much more myself ; I have
said that he had read the fragments of the Gospels and Epistles that the
Church has chosen for each Sunday of the year (vol i. p. 156). This was
more than having heard the Bible spoken of.
" What I have said is, that Luther had never until then seen an entire
copy of the Holy Scriptures. Now, in advancing this fact, I have cited my
authority in a note (Mathesius). An exact and conscientious critic would
have had recourse to this authority ; he would have examined it, and if he
had found good, criticised, or he would have opposed other authorities. But
not a word of all that. Mr. Maitland prefers to throw himself into supposi
tions which have no weight. Probably he does not know Mathesius. I am,
nevertheless, told that Mr. Maitland is librarian to one of your Bishops.
Here is a librarian who seems to know very little of books.
_ " I will say, then, that John Mathesius, one of the most respectable eccle
siastics of the first half of the sixteenth century, came to Wittemburg in
1529 ; he was a disciple of Luther, lodged many years in the house of the
Reformer, aud ate every day at his table, usus est convictu ipsius Lutheri,
says Melchior Adam, in his Vital G-erm. Theolog. There is no contemporary
historian of the Reformation whose testimony has more authority where the
person of the Reformer is concerned. Now, here is the literal translation
of the passage to which I have referred in my History of the Reformation.
(He writes in German.) Luther was often in the library of the University;
one day, as he examined the books one after another, in order to learn to
know the good, he falls upon the Latin Bible which he had never seen
before, all the time of his life. (Die er yuvon die yeit seines lebens ine
geschen.) He remarks, then, with great astonishment, that many more
texts, epistles, and gospels, are to be found there than in the ordinary
postils, and in the texts they were accustomed to explain in the churches
from the pulpits. As he was running through the Old Testament, he falls
upon the history of Samuel and his mother Hannah ; he reads it quickly
with a heart full of emotion and joy ; and as all that was new to him, he
began to desire from the depths of his heart that our faithful God would
one day give him such a book for his own. Oh ! how richly have this
desire and sigh been granted.
"Thus speaks Mathesius, in his Memoirs of the Beginning of the Life
and Death of Martin Luther, first discourse, pp. 3, 4. The edition from
which. I have quoted is that of the sixteenth century. (Of the year 1566.)
" Melchior Adam, in his Lives of German Theologians, p. 103, speaks
thus:-'Lutherus incidit in exemplar Latinorum Bibliarum quce nunquam
antea viderat, etc' It is useless to bring more quotations. I add only that
all the historians are unanimous on this fact. I do uot know that it has
ever been contested by anyone, even by avowed Papists.
" There had been doubtless many editions of the Bible since the invention

note h. 509
of printing, but we find few or no traces of them among the people. The
Holy Scriptures appear to have had no influence upon the instruction either
of the Church or of the school. Let us leave what the Reformers may have
said, and let us search for what has been written before the Reformation,
not only by men of the opposition, such as John Huss and Savonarola, but
by Doctors of calm spirit, and invested with the highest ecclesiastical
dignities, such as Matthew of Cracow, Bishop of Worms, in his Tractatus
ob Squaloribus Romance Curiae, Pierre d'Ailly, Archbishop of Cambray,
John Gerson, and the respectable Abbot of Spanheim, John Tritheim!
Here are some features of the picture which this last has drawn for
us of the state of the Romish clergy before the Reformation in his
Institutio Vitce Sacerdotalis. I will leave in Latin what it would not
be decent to translate — ' Ignorant men, coarse, without merit, come to the
priesthood. They ask neither a holy life, nor literary culture, nor a pure
conscience. Our priests entirely neglect the study of Holy Scripture, but in
compensation they occupy themselves in bringing dogs and birds pro libris
sibi liberos comparant pro studio concubinas amant. They sit with
drunkards in the public-houses, and give themselves up to play and de
bauchery. They do not know how to speak or write in Latin, and can
scarcely explain the Gospels in German. It is not astonishing that simple
priests should be so ignorant and so opposed to the study of the Holy
Scriptures, for in that they have the Prelates for their example. It is not
the wisest that are elected, but those who can best pay for their place.
These Prelates have themselves few or no Bibles, and show a great hatred
against instruction. Here are the blind guides who, instead of guiding the
people, lead them astray.'
" What a frightful picture! Here is the state from which the Reforma
tion has rescued the Church. Is it the state in which the Tractarians and
the Crypto-Papists, who so strongly regret the Reformation, would replunge
it ? Dear brother, the state of the English Church becomes ever more
alarming to Christians on the Continent. The evil appears to us to have
reached the highest degree, and we do not .see that the Church does any
thing to remedy it. We ask if the Episcopal system is then inefficacious to
govern the Church ? The Church of Scotland has repressed the reveries of
Irving, and nevertheless, those reveries were less dangerous than those of
Pusey, Newman, and Maitland. We love the Church of England, on account
of the word of God on which it rests ; of its Articles, the faith of which is
so pure ; of all the works, and of all the men of God that it has given birth
to. But one of your colleagues, a zealous Episcopalian, who boasted to us
recently of the excellencies of this system, can tell you, that we have been
unanimous in opposing to him the actual state of your Church. If nothing
is done against the Popery of Oxford, the cause of Episcopacy is lost upon
the Continent ; it is lost in the Church of God. If the Bishops continue to
sleep, remember that the Church is the judge of controversies, and that the
Church, according to your articles, is the assembly of faithful men. Let
faithful men then rise and speak.
" Dear brother, I pray for your Church that He who is with us continually,
even to the end of the world, may himself fight against the servants of
human traditions, and that the victory may abide with the word and the
blood of the Lamb. " Your devoted Friend,
" Merle D'Aubigne, D.D."
I have given the whole of M. D'Aubigne's letter, not only be
cause, as I have already said, it is so curious and so characteristic
of the class of writers to whom he belongs, but that I might not
be charged with garbling it. As to great part of it, it seems to
me quite a sufficient answer to say, that specific statements such

510 note h.
as that the Bible was a rare book, unknown in the early days of
Luther, and that " the Holy Scriptures appear to have had no
influence upon the instruction either of the Church or the
School," which are broad falsehoods on the very face of them, are
not to be supported by little scraps of declamation from early
writers such as M. D'Aubigne has thought it worth while to
string together. I refer the reader to what I have said on this
subject at p. 52.
Another great portion is, I imagine, sufficiently answered by
saying, that if it should be proved that I am a Crypto-Papist, and
a Traotarian, and the properest person in the world to be triplicated
with the gentlemen whom he has named, yet that does not affect
the matter. Such evasion is too gross and palpable. There is no
question about doctrine between us. It is merely as to matter of
fact. It is not at what he has written as a theologian, but as an
historian, that I have taken the liberty to laugh, and respecting
which I have cautioned people not to believe him ; and a man
looks rather ridiculous, who tries to conceal ignorance and blunders
by assuring his friends that the person who points them out is a
Hottentot. There are, however, one or two things which require more
specific notice.
1. M. D'Aubigne professes to give my words. He puts a pass
age in marks of quotation, and moreover adds " says he." Of
course one cannot tell what representation the " English clergy
man " might make, and therefore I do not mean to charge M.
D'Aubigne with the stupidity or guilt of this impudent misrepre
sentation. 2. M. D'Aubigne says of his own work, respecting which he
must surely be supposed to know the truth, " What I have said
is, that Luther had never until then, seen an entire copy of the
Holy Scriptures." This is really enough to frighten one. Does
not M. D'Aubignd know, did not the " English clergyman" know,
(the Becord is not suspected of knowing anything), that M.
D'Aubigne said something more than this, and something very,
very, different ? His statement is express, that Luther having
taken down the Bible, " a rare book, unknown in those days,"
was " overcome with wonder at finding more in the volume than
those fragments of the Gospels and Epistles which the Church
had selected to be read in the temples every Sunday throughout
the year." And as if this did not state the fact with sufficient
force and precision, he adds, " Till then he had supposed these
constituted the entire "Word of God." Even this is not all. As
if to cut off the possibility of any such disgraceful retreat as he is
now attempting, he went on, " and now behold, how many pages,
how many chapters, how many books, of which he had not before
had a notion ! "
And yet after all this M. D'Aubigne says, " What I have said

NOTE H. 511
is, that Luther had never until then, seen an entire copy of the
Holy Scriptures." Even this would have been next to incredible,
but it is altogether different from saying as M. D'Aubigne did
say, that Luther did not know that there was any Word of God
in existence except the selected Epistles and Gospels. This was
outrageous ; and I do not wonder that M. D'Aubigne should very
much wish it to be thought that he had not said anything betray
ing such monstrous ignorance. I really was so staggered by it
that I thought I might be doing the author injustice through
some fault of his translator ; and I resolved to see the original.
But the passage actually stands as I give it below in the third
edition of Paris, 1842.3
Let it only be considered that these statements of M. D'Aubigne
relate to a man of whose father he has previously told us that
" possessing a higher degree of mental cultivation than most men
of his class, he read a great deal. Books were scarce in those
days, but John let pass no opportunity of procuring them." It is
rather surprising that no Bible or Testament or Psalter came in
his way ; especially as, he is said to have been a religious man.
His wife " was endowed with the virtues that adorn chaste and
pious women. In particular, she was remarkable for modesty,
her fear of God, and her spirit of prayer ; " and therefore it is no
wonder that " the first thought of his pious parents was to con
secrate to God by baptism the infant he had just given them."
During his childhood his father rose in the world, and being made
councillor of Mansfeld, " availed himself of his new situation to
seek the society he preferred. He set great store by men of in
formation, and often invited the clergy and schoolmasters of the
place to his table." We are not surprised to hear that " the child

3 " Le jeune gtudiant passait a la bibliotheque de l'universite tous les
moments qu'il pouvait enlever a ses travaux academiques. Les livres etaient
encore rares, et c'etait pour lui un grand privilege de pouvoir profiter des
tresors reunis dans cette vaste collection. Un jour (il y avait alors deux
ans qu'il etait a Erfurt, et il avait vingt ans), il ouvre I'un apres I'autre
plusieurs des livres de la bibliotheque, afin d'en connaitre les auteurs. TJn
volume qu'il a ouvert a son tour frappe son attention. II n'en a point vu de
semblable jusqu'a cette heure. II lit le titre .. . . (sic) c'est une Bible ! livre
rare, inconnu dans ce temps-la.1 Son interet est vivement excite ; il se sent
tout rempli d'admiration de trouver autre chose dans ce volume que ces
fragments d'eVangiles et d'epitres que l'Eglise a choisis pour les lire au
peuple dans les temples, chaque dimanche de I'annee. II avait cru
jusqu'alors que c'etait la toute la Parole de Dieu. Et voila tant de pages,
tant de chapitres, tant de livres, dont il n'avait aucune idee ! " Vol. I. p. 197.

1 Auff ein Zeyt, wie er die Biicher fein nacheinander besieht . . . (sie)
kombt er fiber die lateinische Biblia . . . (sic) (Mathes. 3).

512 NOTE H.
profited by it," and that " as soon as he was of age to receive
some instruction, his parents sought to instil into him the know
ledge and fear of God, and to form him to the Christian virtues."
While he was " still very little ... his father wishing to see him
acquire the rudiments of those studies he prized so highly, invoked
upon him the blessing of heaven, and sent him to school." This
was after "the piety of his parents, their active habits and austere
virtue" had "had a happy effect on the boy," and had given
" his mind a grave and attentive cast." At school " they taught
him the chapters of the Catechism, the Ten Commandments, the
Apostles' Creed, the Lord's Prayer, Canticles, Forms of Prayer,"
beside other things more easily taught without allusion to the Old
or New Testament— " in short," says M. D'Aubigne, "they
taught him all that was known in the Latin school of Mansfeld."
So when he was fourteen he was sent to Magdeburg, and his mind
being of a grave and attentive cast, " he examined, he listened.
Andreas Proles, the provincial of the order of Augustinians, was
then preaching with great warmth the necessity of a reform in
religion and in the Church." But the young listener never caught
a hint that there were any pages, chapters, or books in the Word
of God except what were read for Epistles and Gospels on Sundays.
Well, then he was sent "to Isenach where there was a celebrated
school," and where he was received as an inmate in a Christian
family ; where " his whole being warmed beneath the mild rays of
charity, and began to bound with life, joy, and contentment. His
prayers were more ardent ; his thirst for knowledge greater ; he
made rapid progress." Still he managed to steer clear of any
suspicion that there was such a Book as the Bible.4 However, in
his eighteenth year Luther arrived at the University of Erfurt ;
after being there two years, after studying " the Philosophy of
the Middle Ages in the writings of Occam, Scot, Bonaventura,
and Thomas Aquinas," he made the astonishing discovery that
though "unknown in those days" there was such a Book as the
Bible — very odd, was it not ?
3. There is something very comic in the manner in which M.
D'Aubigne complains of my venturing to doubt that for which he
actually gives an " authority."

* It may be observed, not as a statement of what was done, but of what
at a great distance of time we are able to trace in the history of that period,
that for the year 1497, which seems to have been the year in which Luther
went to Isenach, Le Long gives editions of the whole Bible printed at
Strasburgh, Cologne, Venice, Paris, and Nuremberg, beside three Psalters,
one with no place named, and the others from Nuremberg and Augsburgh.
Of course I do not mean to represent this as more than may have been done
in years recently before, or soon after, but ,one would not have been sur
prised if some one copy of the Bible had found its way to the " celebrated
school of Isenach."

NOTE H. 513
Now, in the first place, M. D'Aubigne did not give any authority
for that part of his statement which I impugned. On the words,
" a rare book, unknown in those days," he put a few German
words, simply stating, that as, once on a time, Luther examined
the books on the shelves, he came to a Latin Bible. These words
were, of course, quite irrelevant, and Jonly conveyed the idea, that
by some mistake of the printer the note had got out of its place.
But what would have been said of my folly and unfairness, if I had
treated that reference to Mathesius, coupled as it was with his
quoted words, and given, as it seemed to be, by way of authority
for them, as containing a statement that Luther had never seen the
book of Psalms, and did not know that there was a book of Genesis
in the Bible ? How was I to guess that it was meant to certify all
that, and a great deal more ?
But M. D'Aubigne seems to think that whatever has been once
said by ignorance, fraud, or folly, may be said again with impunity.
He gave an " authority " — why so did Bobertson, and Henry, and
Warton, for various absurd falsehoods, as has appeared on turning
to those authorities ; but some things are so plainly false, that one
does not need to look at the authority on which they are stated.
If M. D'Aubigne had said, that by some singular infelicity the
Saxon Reformer had been educated in an atheistical manner, and
until he was twenty years old had been studiously prevented from
coming to the knowledge of the fact that the Bible existed — that
he had been kept by his father in the woods, never taught to read,
or allowed to go to church, or converse with Christians, — if M.
D'Aubigne had told us even this, strange as it is, upon respectable
contemporary authorities, it would of course be our duty to look
at them; but when the story is told of a young gentleman whose
religious education had been particularly attended to, and who had
of his own free will been working hard at Occam, Scot, Bonaven-
ture, and Thomas Aquinas, it is too much. We do not need to
look at the authority. We can only lament the pitiable ignorance
of the writer who could repeat such nonsense, and commend him
to the patronage of the Becord.
I do not know that I have ever seen the work of Mathesius, and
I am not better acquainted with it than, I suspect, M. D'Aubigne
is with the works of Occam, Scot, Bonaventure, and Thomas
Aquinas. But I do know one little thing, on the authority of
Melchior Adam, a writer whom M. D'Aubigne quotes with
respect, which makes me believe that Mathesius is an authority
not to be implicitly trusted on such a point. I suspect that he
was a little in M. D'Aubigne's way of rhodomontade and talking
big for effect, and perhaps if his words had been contradicted on
the spot, he might have been as prompt to eat them as M.
D'Aubigne has been. Melchior Adam says that Mathesius's
account of himself was, that having been brought up among the
papists until he was twenty-five years of, age, he had never heard
in any of their churches, any mention of the Ten Commandments, L L

514 NOTE H.
the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, or Baptism? I think we may let
such an " authority " say what he pleases of Luther, or anybody
else. Perhaps, if called on for an explanation, he would have
told us, " What I said is, that it was not customary for preachers
in the Bomish Church to repeat all the Ten Commandments, the
Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Form for Baptism, in every
sermon." M. D'Aubigne may perhaps learn that authorities will
not shelter everything, ahd are apt to expose those who have not
sufficient information to know how to use them.

s After speaking of the education of Mathesius, and telling us that he
had learned the Catechism at School, Melchior Adam proceeds to say, that
certain doctrines continued to be taught in the schools, when they were not
heard of in the churches "in templis altum de iis silentium. Ipse Mathesius
[marg. note Concioue 6. de vita Luth. p. 59] alicubi fatetur, se, qui inter
Pontificios ad annum usque setatis vigesimum quintum egerit, nnllam
unquam audisse mentionem, fieri Decalogi, aut Symboli Aposcolici, aut
precationis Dominicaa, aut Denique Baptismi." Vit. Germ. Theol. p. 404.
Some may think that I have improperly limited his words by the context ;
and perhaps I have, but the case will well afford it.

INDEX,

Abbo, father of Odilo, Abbot of
Clugni, 319
Abelard, Peter, on profane learning,
205
Absconsa, what, 353, n.
Adegrin entered the monastery at
Beaume, 316
.iElfric, canons of, 48, 54
Agnes, the Empress, widow of Henry
III., her visit and gifts to the mo
nastery of Monte Casino, 228 ;
some particulars respecting her,
332
 , Countess of Burgundy, 83
Agobard, his works preserved by
Massou, 298
Agriculture, monastic, 407
Aigulph, St., at Provins, monastery
of, 371
Alanus, on the state of the clergy, 50
Alberic, Abbot of Citeaux, 374
Albi, state of MSS. there, 291
Alcoran, translated by Peter the
Venerable, 460
Alcuin, his verses on the bible, 214 ;
a lesson which he learned while a
child, 200 ; St. Luidger his pupil,
465
Aldhelm, Bp. of Schireburn, buying
a bible, 214
Alfred the Great, 50
Altar, offering donations on, 90 ; by
a copy of the gospels, 229
Alulfus, monk of St. Martin's at
Tournay, his Gregorialis, 426, xi.
Amand, St., 500
Ambrose of Camaldoli, MSS. dis-
covered by him, 295
Angilbert, Abbot, gift of books to St.
Riqniers, 226
Anseharius, the bible given to him
by Lewis the Debonnaire destroyed
by fire, 216
Ansegisus, Abbot of Fontanelle, gave
a bible to his monastery and

another to St. Flavian's, 214 ; his
copy of the gospels, 226
 , Abbot of St. Riquiers, his
gift of the gospels and epistles to
his monastery, 228
Anselm, Bp. of Lucca, 467
Archives, provision for their security,
273
Armannns, Prior of Clugni, and Abbot
of Manlieu, 364
Arnold, Bishop of Soissons, 467
Arnold, Abbot of Villiers, 419
Arnoul, St., monastery of, and others
at Metz, destroyed in war, 253
Asinorum ordo, 164, n.
Ass, feast of the, 161
Atto, Bp. of Vercelli, his Capitulare,
173
Avalon, church of, its library, 229 ;
copies of the gospels there, ibid.
Aufridus, Bp. of Utrecht, 469
Aurea, the Abbess, 115, 121
Auxerre, cathedral of, MSS. lost by
negligence, 290
Aymard, Abbot of Clugni, 321

Bardo, Archbishop of Mayence, 478 ;
his sermon before the Emperor
Conrad, 484
Beaume, granted to Count Berno,
316 ; its modern state, ibid.
Beauprfe, modern state of the abbey,
247
Bee, Btate of the abbey, 193
Bella diplomatica, 257
Benedict, St., Rule of, 185 ; the ori
ginal said to have been burned
with the monastery of Teano, 254
Benedictine Order, reformation of, in
Germany, 346
Benedictines of St. Maur, 179, 244
Benedict III., Pope, his gifts to
churches, 226
Benignus, St., church, at Dijon

516

INDEX.

robbed, 237 ; church ornaments
sold for the poor, 238
Bernard, St., bis apology, 377; corre
spondence with Peter the Vener
able, 383, 435 ; his chamber heated
by the introduction of hot air, 420
Bernard, Abbot of Marseilles, 348
Berno, Count or Abbot, founded the
monastery of Gigni, 315 ; obtained
a grant of Beaume, 316 ; founded
Clugni, 317
Berno, Bp. of Hildesheim, gave a
glossed bible to the library of his
see, 218
Bertin, St., monastery, difficulty of
access to the MSS., 307
Berward, Bp. of Hildesheim, copy of
the gospels which he caused to be
written, 233
Beze, a costly MS. of the gospels
there, 229
Bible, knowledge of in the dark ages,
208, 213, 279, 463 ; verses on, 220,
221 ; expense of copying, 222 :
copies found by literary travellers,
308; bequeathed by the Bp. of
Cambray to the Carthusians of Ma-
cour, 283 ; borrowed by the Bp. of
Winchester, 282 ; of Pontius,
Abbot of Clugni, 368 ; of Stephen
Harding, Abbot of Citeaux, 374,
n. ; how far known to Luther and
generally in his days, 510
Bibliotheca, the bible so called, 214, n.
Binding of books, costly materials
used for, 88, 224 ; leave from Char
lemagne to hunt in order to obtain
leather for the purpose, 235 ; in
more modern times MSS. used and
destroyed for the purpose, 296,
298
Bonus, Abbot, 63; his Breve Recor
dationis, 77 ; gave ten pounds for
a bible, 218
Books, high price of, 81, 88 ; offered
on the altar, 90 ; presented by
popes, 92 ; costly ones peculiarly
liable to destruction, 237 ; stripped
of their covers, 238, 240 ; pawned,
238 ; lost by pillage, 280 ; rules of
lending at Croyland, 285 ; anathe
mas against those who should steal
or injure, 288; chained to the
shelves, 303 ; list of those written
by Othlonus, 430 ; by Diemudis,
431
Bourges, state of the MSS. in the
Holy chapel there 292
Brethwold, Bp. of Salisbury, his gift
of the gospels to his church, 230

Brindler, access to the MSS. there
refused, 307
Brioys, Father Paul, 244
Brompton, John, 497
Bromsall, Mr., of Blunham, a pre
server of MSS. during the Rebel
lion, 306
Bruno, Bp. of Hildesheim, gave a
glossed bible to the library of his
see, 218
Brunwillers, monastery, suffered by
war, 252

Cffisarius, Bp. of Aries, 127, x±.
Calefactory, scriptoria built round,
419 ; called Pyrale, 423, n.
Calendar, 41, n.
Calvinists, destruction of MSS. by,
251
Cambron, Cistercian abbey of, 300
Camisise librorum, 232, n.
Candelle, access to MSS. at, refused,
307
Canticles, translated by William of
Bamberg, 209
Capella, travelling, 330
Capsse librorum, 232, n.
Cave on the mutilation of MSS., 303
Cavea evangelii, 232, n.
Celle, La, monastery of, 345
Cells, what, 200, n.
Ceppi, Father, 183, 496
Chalons, difficulty of access to MSS .
there, 307
Charite, La, sur Loire, monastery
decayed, 281
Charlemagne, his Capitulary, 41 ;
had reading at supper, 358
Charta caritatis of Stephen Harding,
374
Chartreuse, La, by Liege, lost its
MSS. in war, 253
Christopher's, St., and St. James's,
at Stedeburg, list of books belong
ing to, 218
Church property in the dark ages,
409
Cistercian Order, origin of, 368 ;
their scriptoria, 418, 425
Citeaux, monastery of, founded, 373 ;
dissensions with Clugni, 376; state
at the time of Bernard's apology,
384
Clairvaux, monastery, founded, 375
Clergy, learning and morals of, 37,
52, 143, 191
Cliffe, or Cloveshou, Council of, 39
Clotaire, 121
Clugni, monastery of, its origin, 313 j

INDEX.

517

invaded by Pontius, 365 ; state of
at the time of Bernard's apology,
384 ; modern state, 247 ; Ulric's
book on the customs there, 350;
method of reading the scriptures
there, 353
Colan, recluses at, 368, 371
Cologne, MS. bible at St. Pantaleons,
there, 311
Commercium librorum, 449, 505
Coopertoria librorum, 232, n.
Cotton, Sir John, his permission to
Dr. Smith, 300
Coxe, Dr., his proceedings at Oxford,
302
Crassier, Baron de, 296, 298
Cross made as a signature, 30, 33
Croyland Abbey, some particulars of
its history and destruction, 260, et
seq. ; burned, 271
Crusader, an old one in a monastery,
324
Crypta-ferrata, monastery of, state of
the MSS. there, 295
Cupidity, one cause of the destruc
tion of MSS., 297

Dado, St., or St. Owen, 121, 123
Dagobert, 121
Damian, Peter, 333
Danes, destruction of MSS. by, 248 ;
of Peterborough Abbey, 249 ; of
Croyland Abbey, 262
Dark Ages, why so called, 21
D'Aubigne, M., his History of the
Reformation, 474 ; his letter in the
Record, 507
Desiderius, Abbot of Monte Casino
(afterwards Pope Victor III.), his
gift of costly books to his monas
tery, 228
Diemudis, a nun, a laborious writer,
431
Difficulty of access to collections of
MSS., 304, 503
Dilighen, monastery, destroyed by
the Calvinists, 251
Diplomatica bella, 257
Dishonesty one cause of the destruc
tion of MSS., 297
Ditmar's description of himself, 57
Dodico, Count of Warburg, 149
Dolatura, 256, n.
Donations to churches or monas
teries, form of, 93
Douay, MS. Psalter at St. Vaasts,
there, 310
Dunstan, Archbp. of Canterbury,
466

Durand, Dom Ursin, his literary tra.
veis, 245

Earle, Bp., his translation of Hooker
destroyed, 295
Edgar, king, 34 ; copy of the gospels,
which had belonged to him, 238
Eisterbac, MS. bible there, 311
Eloy, St., or St. Eligius, 121, 127,
n. ; extracts from his homily, 129,
134, 169
Epternac, two MS. copies of the
gospels there, 311
Ethelbald, 259
Etheldritha, 260
Everhard, Countof Friuli, his bequest
of a bible, 216 ; of the gospels, 227
Eugenius, subscription to the Council
of CP., 33
Eugenius III., Pope, Peter the Vene-
rable's letter to, 412
Excrustation, 238

Falsehoods, popular, 67
Fatuorum festum, 161, 168
Ferrieres, monks of, 71
Ferte' sur Grone, monastery founded ,
375
Fire, MSS. destroyed by, 253
Fleury, monastery, MSS. destroyed
by the Calvinists, 251
Florence of Worcester, 497
Fools, feast of, 161, 167
Frock, what, 324
Frutari, monastery of, 333
Fulda monastery burned, 255 ;" books
written for, 430
Fulk the Good, Count of Anjou, a
canon of St. Martin's at Tours,
318
Fuller, as to the Cluniacs and Cister
cians, 375, n.

Gall, St., monastery, burned, 254 ; its
MSS. dispersed, 298
Gallia Christiana, Benedictine edition
of, 244
Gembloux, monastery, MSS. burned,
253
Gemma Animas, extract from, on
profane learning, 204
Gennadius, Bp. of Astorga, 211 ; be
queathed books to his monasteries,
217
Geoffry, sub-prior of St. Barbara's,
letter respecting a bible, 219
Germanus, Michael, 243

5i8

INDEX.

Gerard, Bp. of Csannad, his way of
travelling, 326
Gerald, monk of Clugni, 342
Gerveys, John, Bp. Winchester, 498
Gibbon, his misstatement relating to
the Hungarians, 249, n.
Gigni, monastery founded by Count
Berno, 314 ; modern state, 316, n ;
access to MSS. refused, 307
Gloucester Cathedral, legend on the
great bell, 270
Godehard, Bp. of Hildesheim, orna.
meuted books, 234
Godfrey, Abbot of Malmesbury, strip
ped twelve copies of the gospels, 238
Godfrey, monk of St. Martin's at
Tournay, a skilful scribe, 426, u.
Goldbeaters, helped to destroy MSS.,
299
Goldsmith, the, 101, 120 ; his fore
man, 111 ; his god-daughter, 115
Gospels, costly copies of, 224 ; twelve
at Sc. Paul's in 1295, 231 ; pawned
to Jews, 239 ; ten copies stripped
at Hide Abbey, 240
Grandison, John, Bp. of Exeter, 289
Grandmont, prior of, 57
Grammar, what, in the dark ages, 199
Grasse, La, MS. of the gospels there
said to have been given by Charle
magne, 309
Gratian, a copy presented by the Bp.
of Auxerre to the monastery of
Clairvaux, 2S3
Grecia, Countess of Anjou, 81
Gregorialis of Alulfus, 426, n.
Gregory, Pope, his letter to Deside
rius, 199
Grimberg, two MS. bibles there, 311 ;
its library destroyed by the Hugue
nots, 252
Grosthead, Bp. of Lincoln, Warton's
misstatement respecting, 165
Guesclin, Du, 35
Guy Guerra, count of Tuscany, 32

Hagano, canon of St. Martin's at
Tours, subscription to his will,
34, u.
Haimou's homilies, 81, 212
Harding, Stephen, Abbot of Citeaux,
374
Hariulf, Abbot of Aldernburg, 4f»7
Hautvilliers, MS. gospels at, 309
Heimrad, St., 149
Heraclius, Abp. of Lyons, 364
Heribaud, Comte du Palais. 31
Heriman, Abbot of St. Martin's at
Tournay, his account of its res
toration, 72, 426

Herluca, a nun of Eppach, 433
Henry II., Emperor, or St. Henry,
145, 227
Henry's History of England, misre
presentations in, 141
Hide Abbey, destruction of, 239
Hincmar, Abp. of Rheims, causing
the gospels to be written, 226
Hirschau, monastery of, 345
Hirschfeld, monks of, 430
Honorius, or the authorof the Gemma
Animse, 204
Hubert, St., in Ardennes, costly MS.
of the gospels there, 229
Hugh, Bp. of Lincoln, his visit to an
old monk, 356, n.
Hugh, Abbot of Clugni, 332, 362
Hugh, a writer, 498
Humphrey, duke, his librarv de
stroyed, 302
Hunegundis, St., 121, 123
Hungarians, supposed to be Gog and
Magog, 249

Ignorance of the clergy, stories of,
156
Ignorance, one cause of the destruc
tion of MSS., 297
Illyricus, M. Flacius, his account of
Peter the Venerable, 398, 411
Ina, King, his chapel at Glastonbury,
233
Infirmaries of monasteries, what
classes inhabited, 323, u.
Ingulf, Abbot of Crovland, 271
Isidore of Seville, 38, 45
Iter Burgunilicum, 243 ; Germani-
cuui, ibid. ; Italicum, 244 ; in Alsa-
tiam et Lotharingiam, ibid.
Ivo, Bp. of Chartres, 45

Jacob, a Jew, destroyed Christian
books, 301
Jacobins' monastery at Liege, MSS.
burned, 253
Jacobus, Abbot of Villers, 419
Jean aux Bellemains, Abp. of Lyons,
357, n.
Jean, Due, les Heures du, 293
Jean de St. Vigores, MS. bible at, 310
Jesuits borrowing books, 300
Jews at Cambridge, their importance,
239, n.
John, Bp. of Bath, bequest of the
gospels, 230
 Abbot of Gorze, 470, 506
Jones, William, translator of Dupin,
380 ; his note on Peter the Venera
ble, 381

INDEX.

519

Jordanus, Abbot of Chaise-Dieu, 364
Jortin, his account of St. Eloy, 128
Jotsald, biographer of Abbot Odilo,
329
Joiiarre, MS. gospels, 309
Jurare manu, 34
Justin, Emperor, his present to Pope
Hormisda, 22.3

Kenulph, first Abbot of Croyland, 260

Lambeit, Abbot of Lobbes. 467
Lambert, Val St., MSS. sold or lost,
297
Landlords, ecclesiastical, in the dark
ages, 408
Laufranc, Abp., 198, 210, 271
Lauresheim, or Lorsch, monastery,
costly books pawned and lost. 239 ;
burued, 255
Legends, Romish, 58
Leibnitz, 158
Leo III., Pope, gifts to churches, 225
 IV., Pope, gift of books to
churches, 226
Lerins, access to MSS. refused, 307
Letters of the dark ages should be
collected, 399, 504
Lewis IV. of France, Fulk, Count of
Anjou's letter to, 318
 the Debonnaire, bible presented
by, 238 ; gifts to the monastery 6f
St. Medard, 226
Lewis, monk of Wessobrunn, 419
Libertas Decembrica, 174
Librorum commercium, carried on
among the learned in the dark
ages, 449, 505
Limoges, state of MSS. at the Abbey
of St. Martial, 291
Literary travels, 242
Lobbes, access to MSS. refused, 307
Locomotion, rate of, in the dark ages,
268
Loroy Abbey destroyed by fire, 254
Lorsch, Abbot of, 430 ; see La uresheim
Louis XI. borrowing the works of
Basis, 87
Lucelle, monastery, library burned,
253
Lupicin, St., scripture MSS. there,
308
Lupus, Abbot of Ferrieres, 69
Luther, his education, 474, 508 ; was
the bible unknown to him, 510
Lutold, Lord of Bumelingen, 343
Luxeuil, scripture MSS. there, 308
Lyons, difficulty of access to MSS.,
306

Mabillon, Dom, his controversy with
De RancS on monastic studies, 181,
496 ; Iter Burgundicum, 243 ; Iter
Germanicnm, ibid. ; Iter Italicum,
244 ; IterLiterarium in Alsatiam et
Lotharingiam,i5id. ; found the life
of St. Placidus at Monte Casino, in
the binding of another book, 296
Mainerius, Abbot of St. Victor's at
Marseilles, a statue of, 284
Maiolus, or St. Mayeul, Abbot of
Clugni, 321 ; reading on horseback,
326
MalmesburyAbbey,library destroyed,
299
Malmidi, MS. bible there, 310
Manu jurare, 35
Manual labour of monks, 407
Manuscripts gone from various mon
asteries which had possessed collec
tions, 247, 248, 251 ; hidden for
safety, 296 ; loss of by pillage, 280 ;
sold or lost, 297; stolen by the
" curious," 300; mutilation of, 302 ;
destruction of, 502
Maps, ecclesiastical, wanted, 368, n.
Marcigni, nunnery at, 342, 363
Mark, St., Montfaucon's account of a
MS. of his gospel, 291
Martel, Geoffry, Count of Anjou, 83
Martene, Dom Edmund, his literary
travels, 244 ; his Thesaurus Novus
Anecdotorum and Amplissima Col-
lectio, 245
Martin, of Moutier-neuf, his account
of a copy of the gospels, 234
Martin, St., de Canigoux, difficulty of
access to MSS., 307
 'a, St., at Tournay, monks of,
71 (see Heriman)
Materials, costly, of books, 88,- 92
Mathesius, his account of himself,
513
Maur, St., Benedictines of, 244
¦  , on the Loire, bible at,
216
Meinwerc, Bp. of Paderborn, history
of his reading " mulis et mulabus,"
for " famulis et famulabus," 143
Mennitius, Father, MSS. recovered
by, 296
Merton College, Oxford, MSS. canied
away from, 302
Metz, MS. bible at, 309 ; St. Vincent's
MS. gospels, 310
Michael, Emperor, his gifts to the
church of St. Peter, 227
 , St., at Tonnere, monastery
of, 368
Michel, St., MS. Greek psalter at,
309

520

INDEX.

Milner, of Peter the Venerable, 361,
379 ; of Luther, 475
Molesme, forest of, 371
Monastic life, 179 : studies, contro
versy respecting, 181
Monks, illiterate, 178 ; learning of, 1 93
Montfaucon, Father, Diarium Itali-
cum, 244
Morimond, monastery founded, 375
Mosheim's account of St. Eloy, 121,
124, 133
Moutier-la-Celle, monastery of, 368
Munster Abbey, suffered by war, 253
Mutilation of MSS., 302

Nantes, Council of, 39; laid waste by
the Normans, but the bible pre
served, 215
Nantua, monastery of, 329
Narbonne Cathedral, MSS. there, 291
Negligence, a cause of the loss of
MSS., 282
Nicholas, St., aux Bois, monastery,
386, n.
 , St. de Tolentino, 184, n.
 , St. Bernard's secretary,
416; his Scriptoriolum, 418, 434,
443 ; Peter the Venerable's letter
to, 445 ; his letter to Peter, 446 ;
Peter's letter to Bernard concern
ing him, 447 ; his real character,
450 ; what became of him, 452
Nidermunster, monastery of, 431
Nigel, Bp. of Ely, robbed of a copy
of the gospeis, 237 ; pawned the
gospels to the Jews, 230
Nonantula, the monastery burned,
2o 1 ; modern state of, 247
Normans, destruction of MSS. by,248
Notker, monk of St. Gall's, 421

Obermunster, monastery of, 431
Odilo, Abbot of Clugni, 329
Odo (Abbot of Clugni) tempted to
read Virgil, 203 ; entered at
Beaume, 316 ; removed to Clugni,
317 ; his father Abbo, 319 ; suc
ceeded Berno, as Abbot of Clugni,
ibid. ; anecdotes of, 320 ; read on
horseback, 326; sold the sacred
vessels lor the poor, 238
 , Abbot of St. Martin's at Tour
nay, his writers, 4i!6
O ffa, King, gave a bible to the church
of Worcester, 214
Olbert, Abbot of Gembloux, gift of
copies of the gospels and epistles to
his church, 230 ; wrote a bible, 217
Omer, St., subscription to his will, 33

Orders, examination of candidates
for, 36
Othlonus, monk of St. Emmerams, a
laborious writer, 429
Otmersheim Abbey, lost its MSS. by
war, 253
Owen, St., or Dado, 121, 123
Oxford, Dr. Coxe's proceedings and
those of the royal delegates there,
302

Paderborn, schools at, 159
Pandectes, the bible so called, 214, u.
Paraclet, L'Abbaye du, difficulty of
access to MSS., 307
Paul, Abbot of St. Alban's, gift of two
copies of the gospels to his church,
229
Paul's St., books there, 231
Peter the Venerable, 361, 435 ; his re
ply to St. Bernard's Apology, 390,
402, 410; represented by Illyricus
as a witness against the Papacy,
398,411 ; his letters to the Pope,
412 ; his letters to Peter of Poic
tiers, 453
 , Abbot of Moutier-la-Celle, 417
 Abelard on profane learning,205
 Damian, 333 ; on profane learn
ing, 204
 of Poictiers, secretary of Peter
the Venerable, 452
 Waldo, 357, n.
Peterborough monastery burned by
the Danes, 249
Placidus, St., see iSabillon
Plen alius, 431
Poggio, MSS. discovered by, 295
Pont a Mousson, two MS. bibles, 309
Poutiguy monastery founded, 375
Pontius, Abbot of Clugni, 362
 Yezelai, 364, 365 ;
his bible, 367, n.
Popes, presents of books by, 92
Popular falsehoods, 67
Printing and writing, comparison of.
427
Profane learning, view of in the dark
ages, 193
Proxy, signing by, 33
Pryel, monastery of, 430
Psalmody, monkish, 320, 355, 467
Purpose of the work, 23
Pyrale, 423, see Calefactory

Quintilian, discovered by Poggio,295
Rabanus MaUrus, 42

INDEX.

521

Kalph, Bp. of Rochester, gifts to his
church, 229
Ralph de Baldock, Dean of St. Paul's,
hisvisitation of the treasury of St.
Paul's, 231
Ranc6, De, 180; controversy with
Mabillon, 181
Beading mentioned, 375, n. ; well, 43
 at meals, 357
Rebais, modern state of the monas
tery, 247
Reculf us, constitutions of, 46
Eefectory, reading in, 357
Reform, church, in the middle ages,
54, n.
Eegino Prumiensis, 36, 49, 69
Belies in the binding of books, 231
Rheims Cathedral, archives burned,
253 ; Scripture MSS. there, 309
Kiquier's, St., monastery at Centule,
return of their property contains
two bibles, 215 ; books there, 232;
catalogue, 356; MS. gospels given
by Charlemagne, 310
Ratpert, monk of St. Gall's, 421
Robert, cousin of St. Bernard, 378
 , founder of the Cistercian
order, 368
 , King, bequeathed to the
church of S. Anian six copies of
the gospels, 230
Bobertson's Charles the Fifth, misre
presentations in, 29, 36, 50, 55, 61,
69, 70, 71, 81, St, 90, 123, 161 j
monkish reply to, 57
Rodulf , monk of St. Wast, a scribe,
verses by, 286
Rodulph, King of Burgundy, charter
for the monastery of Gigni, 315
Romans, collegiate church six times
destroyed, 280
Rose, Rev. Hugh J., notes by, 75, 120
Bossano, Abp. of, his statement to
Father Montfaucon, as to the de
struction of the documents of his
see, 296
Rosseauville, difficulty of access to
MSS., 307

" Sacros libros," meaning of the
phrase as used by the writers of the
dark ages, 107
Sanctamand, or St. Amand, 500
Sanctitas vestra, the, title used, 436.
Saracens, irruption into Italy, 251
Scarcity of MSS., 242
Scriptoria of monasteries, 418
"Scriptura sacra," meaning of the
phrase as used by writers of the
dark ages, 107.

Scriptures, method of reading at
Clugni, 353 ; treatment of in the
dark ages, 223 ; motto, 241 ; un
known in Luther's time, 510
Selden, Mr.,too free in lending books,
300
Sempecta, what, 324
Sens, the abbey of St. Pierre le Vif
destroyed nine or ten times, 281
Siegler, M., 296
Signature, by the sign of the cross,
30, 33 ; by proxy, 33 ; with con
secrated wine, 35
Signs used by monks instead of
speaking, 416, n.
Sindolf,monkof St. Gall's, 422,436,n.
Sithiu, monks of, grant of Charle
magne to, 235
Siward, Abbot of Croyland, 261
Soissons, St. Medard, copy of the
gospels presented by Lewis le
Debonnaire, 310
Solomon, Bp. of Constance, 421,436,n.
Soucilanges, monastery of, 364
Soudiacres, 176
Stephen, Abbot of Beze, gave a bible
to his monastery, 218
Strasburg.access to MSS. refused,306
Stripping costly books, 238, 240
Switzerland, History of, for young
persons, 68

Tarbe, documents of the cathedral
church burned by the Calvinists,
251
Tassilo, Duke of Bavaria, 31, 433
Teano monastery burned, 254
Tegernsee, monastery of ,429, 433, 505
Theau, St., or Tillo, 121, 123
Theoderic, Abbot of St. Evroul, ad
dress to his monks on writing, 286
 ,jun.,Bp.of Metz, preached
before the Emperor Conrad, 483
Theodore, Abbot of Croyland, when
invaded by the Danes, 262
Theodulphus, Bp. of Orleans, made a
great bible, 214
Thesaurus Novus Anecdotorum,Mar-
tene's, 245
Theudere, St., monastery, its MSS.
destroyed by the Calvinists, 251
Thierry, Abbot of St. Evroul, causes
a bible to be written, 218
 St. Hubert's, read-"
ing on horseback, 326, 468
Thieto, Abbot of St. Gall, 254
Thoiiars, Abbey of St. John at, its
documents dispersed by the Calvin;
ists, 251
Thuillier, Dom Vincent,his account of

522

INDEX.

the controversy respecting monas
tic studies, 180
Tillo, St., or Theau, 121, 123
Todd, Dr., his MS. of the Gregorialis,
427, n.
Toledo, VIII. council of, 38
Trappe, La, 375
Trithemius.on monks being employed
in writing, 290
Trone, St., access to MSS. refused,307
Turgar, his life preserved when the
Danes destroyed Croyland Abbey
in 870, 263 ; the youngest of the
only three monks who lived there
in the year 941, 264 ; his journey to
London in the year 948, 268
Turketul, Chancellor, 264, et seq. ; his
division of his monks when Abbot
of Croyland, 323
Tutilo, monk of St. Gall's, 421

Uffenbach, M.,his collection, 298
TJlric,a monk of Clugni, 332, 339 ; his
book on the customs of Clugni, 350

Val Dieu, La, MS. bible there, 311
Vedastus, S. See Wast, St.
Verdun, Abp. of, refused access to his
MSS., 306
 , MS. gospels at, 309
Veterum Scriptorum, etc. Amplissima
Collectio, Martene's, 246
Vezelai, monastery of, 364
Voyage litteraire de deux Religieux
Benedictins de la Congregation de
St. Maur, 245

Waldo, Peter, 357, n.
Walter, Bp. of Rochester, gift of the
gospels to his church, 229
War, destruction of MSS. by, 248
Warton, his mistake about Bp. Grost-
head and the Festum Asinorum,

165 ; his misrepresentation respect
ing Gennadius,Bp. of Astorga, 211 ;
about Olbert, Abbot of Gembloux,
217 ; of a grant of Charlemagne,
235 ; respecting the Bp. of Win
chester's borrowing a bible, 282 ;
of Alfred's ignorance, 497; of Hugh
the writer, 498:,; of Sanctamand,
500 ; his character of Voltaire, 502
Wast., St., monastery six times
burned, 253
Wessobrunn, monastery of, 431
Wharton, H, his Anglia Sacra, 502
White, Bampton lecturer, his account
of St. Eloy, 128
Wicbert, Bp. of Hildesheim, wrote a
bible for his church, 213, 216
Wichtlaf, King of Mercia, 261
Wilfrid, Abp., gift of the gospels to
the church of Ripon, 232, n.
William, Count of Auvergne, patron
ized the founding of Clugni, 317
 de Longchamp, Bp. of Ely,
pawned thirteen copies of the
gospels, 238
.  , Abbot of Dijon, charter of
his respecting a costly copy of the
gospels, 227.
William, Abbot of Hirschau, 345 ; his
twelve writers, 347, 425
 St. Thierry's near
Rheims, St. Bernard's apology ad-
dressed to him, 377, 386, u.
 of Bamberg, 209
Willibrod, St., copy of the gospels
supposed to be bis, 311, n.
Withred, King of Kent, 31
Wolphelm, Abbot of Brunwillers,
468
Writers, zealous and indefatigable,
429
Writing, large sums paid for, 86 ; and
printing, comparison of, 427
Wulgarius, monk of Cisoing, gave a
bible to his monastery, 216
] Wulstan, Bp. of Worcester, 467

THE END.

Printed at the South Counties Press, Limited, Lewes.

3 9002