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NOTICE.

THE follo\ving pages 111ake no pretension to be
anything 1110re than a very slight sketch of the history
of one ,vho, as a thinker, a Christian leader, and a
Inan, \\ras one of the most re111arkable and 1110st at-
tractive characters of the l\1iddle Ages. In him are
combined, in a singular degree, ,vith the interest gro\v-
ing out of a pure and noble religious life, governed by
an uns\verving purpose and fruitful in varied goodness,
the scientific and literary interest attaching to one
,vho opened a ne\v line of thought in philosophy, and
the historical interest attaching to one ,vho took a
leading and decisive part in the events of his time;
and ,vhat ,ve behold in him is not the less i111pressive,
\vhen it is observed that this prolninent part in high
affairs of Church and State in a great nation ,vas in
the strongest contrast ,yith his plan of life, ,yith his
cherished pursuits, and ,vith ,yhat seemed to be his
special gifts and calling. Others are to be met with
in the l\Iiddle Ages \vho \\?ere Anselm's equals, or his
superiors, in the separate aspects of his character;
but it ,,"ould not be easy to find one \\" ho so joined
b

, I

..YOTICE.

the largeness and daring of a po\verful and inquiring
intellect, \vith the graces and s\veetness and unselfish-
ness of the most loveable of friends, and \vith the
fortitude, clear-sightedness, and dauntless firmness of
a hero, forced into a hero's career in spite of himself,
and compelled, by no seeking of his o\vn, to control
and direct t
. e issues of eventful conflicts bet\veen the
mightiest po\vers of his time.
I have told the story before. I wish I could tell it
as it ought to be told-\vith due justice to one \vho
in1pressed permanently on the traditions of Christen-
don1 fresh and higher conceptions of Christian saint-
liness, Christian philosophy, and the obligations of a
Christian teacher; with a due sense of what is acci-
dental, imperfect, or belonging to a particular and an
early social stage, and likewise \vith due allo\vance for
it; with an adequate and equitable perception of what
is rudimentary or uncouth in a character developed
in times so far from our o\vn, and so unlike them,
but also of what it has of (!. rare beauty and com-
pleteness, \vhich all till1es must feel and admire and
revere; not raising its imperfections into patterns
and standards, or giving them an unreal aspect and
colour, to recommend them to the judgment of ottr
o\vn time, nor 'warped by ,vhat is of our o\vn time
to n1iss, in what at first sight is uncongenial and
strange, the essential notes of goodness, truth, and
strength, or, \vhat is worse, to distort and disfigure
them. But it is a difficult task, the difficulty of \\'hich

]\"0 TICE.

Vll

does not diminish with the increase of our knowledge,
for the men of one age to enter into the conditions of
another, removed far from them not only by time, but
still more by vast revolutions in history, and sweep-
ing changes in society; to catch and understand 'what
is real, with all its surrounding circumstances, in long
past times; to be fair to them, and to be fair also to
ourselves.
The plan of this series of \vorks allows but fe\v
footnotes, or references to authorities. 1\iy materials
are to be found chiefly in the nlemoirs of Eadmer,
Anselm's friend and companion in days of peace and
days of trouble, and in the contemporary chroniclers,
Orderic of St. Evroul in Normandy, Florence of Wor-
cester, the English Chronicle, and William of Malms-
bury in England. I have made free use, \vherever I have
found it convenient, of 'what I have \vritten before. I
need hardly say that I have had before me constantly
the history \vhich Sir Francis Palgrave, unfortunately,
left half finished, and that later one, soon, \ve may
hope, to be complete, in \vhich 1\1r. Freeman has
taught all students of history so great a lesson, and
has sho\vn ho\v the most exact care in the use of
materials and the most inexorable criticism of
evidence may be united \vith philosophical breadth
and boldness, \vith generous sympathies, \vith clear-
ness of narrative, and vigorous eloquence. The ori-
ginality and charm of Anselm's character, and the
interest of his history and of his philosophical writings,

Y111

NOTICE.

have been more appreciated on the Continent than
in England. He has attracted much notice among
scholars in France and Germany; and I have to ac-
kno\vledge my obligations to several. The essay
on St. Anselm by the eminent Roman Catholic Pro-
fessor 1\löhler, a short and imperfect but interesting
one, ,vas trz'lslated into English in 1842. The Pro-
. testant Professor Hasse, of Bonn (A usefUl VOll Can-
terbury: Bonn, 1843, 1852), has treated both Anselm's
history and his scientific position \vith the care and
kno\vledge of a German. There is also a \\'ork by Pro-
fessor Franck, ofTübingen (1842), \vhich I do not kno\v.
The late Énlile Saisset discussed Anselm's philosophy,
and, incidentally, his genius and fortunes, in a short
paper, marked "rith his ,varmth of sympathy, fair-
ness, and temperateness, \vhich \vas published first
in the Revue des Deux Jlolldes, and has since been
republished in a volume of l\;liscellanies (lllélallges
d'Histoire, de 1Ilorale et de Critique: Paris, 1859).
Anselm has also been the. subject of an adluir-
able ,york, admirable in its spirit as ,veIl as in its
ability, by 1\1. Charles de Rémusat (SaÙlt A llsefllze
de Calltorbéry: Paris, 1853; 2nd edition, 1868). 1\1. de
1\lontalembert published a short fragment on Anselnl
(Paris, 1844), \yhich \"as to be part of an introduction
to his history of St. Bernard, and \vhich, like all
that he \vrote, ,vas \yritten ,vith po\ver and eloquence
and bore the marks of the ,varfare in ,vhich he
passed his life. There are also tVlO unpretending

.A'O TICE.

Ïx

but very careful and useful studies on Lanfranc
and on Anselm, published at Caen in 1853, by
1\1. Charma, a professor in the Faculty of Letters
at Caen; it is to be regretted that they have not
been reprinted. In English, there are fair notices
of him in the Biographia Britannica L iteraria
(London, 1846), by l\Ir. T. \Vright; and by l\fr.
Scratchley in the Biographical Dictiol1ary (London,
1843). I have referred for some local matters to
Aubert's Val/Ie d'Aoste, and to a ,vork on St. Anselm
by 1\1. Crozet-l\fouchet, Professor of Theology at Pigne-
rol (Paris and Tournai, 1859), \vho
'rites with the
enthusiasm and something of the credulity of one
\vho feels himself S1. Anselm's countryman. Anselm's
philosophy has of itself been the subject of several
elaborate "yorks. The Proslogio1t and M onologion
,vere translated into French, and commented on by
1\1. Bouchitté (Le Ratiolla/isnze Chrétiell: Paris, 1842).
Other \vorks, German, Italian, and Spanish, \vill be
found referred to in Hasse and De Rémusat. I must
add that an entirely different estimate of Anselm's
character from \vhat is given in these pages, and an
opposite judgment on his career, are to be found in
Dean Hook's important contribution to our Church
history, his "Lives of the Archbishops of Can-
terbury."

R. W. C.

WHATLEY, June 26, 1870.

CON TEN T S.

CHAPTER 1.

l' _-\I ; f

.-\:'\sr:Dt OF .'\OS1.'.-\ .

CHAPTER II.
F(Jt
XD.\TIOX OF THE MOXASTERY OF BEC .

16

CHAPTER III.

n
SCIPLI
E OF A
ORM:AX MOXASTERY .

43

CHAPTER IY.

AXSELM AT BEe .

69

CHAPTER Y.
nl
DERle THE eHRO
IeLER .

94

CHAPTER YI.
ECCLESIAS fICAL AD
tI1'\ISTR.\TIO
OF WILLI.\ \1

II:;

CHAPTER YII.
CHAXGES AT WILLIA:\I'S DEATH.

14 1

CHAPTER \iIL

A
SEr.:\t, ARt'HElSH.)P OF c.\:-fTERBlíRY .

10 9

XII

CO..VTJ'.:J.Vl.\'.

CHAPTER IX.

THE l\IEETlr-;G AT ROCKINGHA!\1.

CHAPTER X,

THE FINAL QUARREL WITH WILLIAM.

CHAPTER XI.

A:'\SEL
1. ON THE CONTIXENT.

CHAPTER XI I.

A?\SELM A
D HE
RY I.

CHAPTER XIII.

AX5EL},I'S LAST DAYS

ILLUSTRATIONS.

CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL

ST. ANSELM'S WI
DOW .

J'60.GK
195

212

227

247

286

.
Frolltispit?ce

17gllette 0 I title-page

ST.

A N S E L 1\1.

C HAP T E R I.

A'XSEL:\I OF AOSTA.

" Far off the old snows eyer new
\Yith silver edges cleft the blue
Aloft, alone, divine;
The sunny meadows silent slept,
Silence the sombre armies kept,
The vanguard of the pine.

In that thin air the birds are still, I
Xo ring-dove murmurs on the hilI,
Kor mating cushat calls;
But gay cicalas singing sprang,
And waters from the forest sang
The song of waterfalls,"
F. "", H. 11YERs.

DIFFEREKT ages have had their different ,vays of
attempting to carry out the idea of a religious life.
The aim of such a life, in those ,vho have been true in
their pursuit of it, has ahvays been the same,-to
kno\v God and His \vill, to learn to be like Him and
to love Him; to understand and realize that la\v of
life of \vhich our Lord is the example; to shake off
S.L. x. B

2

.
ANSELM OF AOSTA.

[CHAP.

the yoke of evil, to face temptation and overcome it,
and to rise out of it to that service \vhich is perfect
freedom. But though the general principles and
motives have been the sanle, the rules and ordering
of life have been various. Social conditions, and the
level of cultivation and kno,vledge, have gone through
numberless changes; men have found by experience
that
vhat 'vas reasonable in one age alters by the
alteration ùf circumstances into \vhat is uIHvise and
mischievous in another; and that ,vhich ,vas inconceiv-
able and impossible in an earlier tinle turns into the
natural course of life in a later one. In the eleventh
century, as in those immediately before and after it,
the natural form of religious life-that ,vhich of itself
presented itself to the thoughts of a man in earnest,
\vishing not only to do right, but to do the best he
could to fulfil God's purpose and his o,vn calling by
self-improvement-,vas the monastic profession.
So strong a tendency must have had a reasonable
cause. l\Iany things of various character had con-
tributed to bring this ab?ut. But one thing must ever
be borne in mind if \ve '\vould understand ,,,hy monasti-
cisnl in those times so conlplrtely appropriated to itself
the name of religion. To comprehend the feelings and
thoughts that made it so natural, ,ve must keep in vie\v
\vhat ,vas the state of society and life in the \vorld at the
time. Since the Gospel had been preached and the
Church founded, human society had presented, in the
main, but Ì\vo great aspects: there had been the
decaying and infinitely corrupt civilization of the
Roman Empire; and then, gradually extinguishing-
and replacing it, the confused and \vild barbarism,
full of noble germs for the future, \"hich for ages

I.]

A.J.VSELJI OF AOSTA.

3

follo\ved the triumph of the ne\v nations in Europe.
Thus there \vas the loftiest moral teaching, based on
the most ovenvhelming doctrines \vhich the \vorld
had ever kno\vn, confronted \vith an evil and hope-
less condition of things in real life, to \vhich it
.formed a contrast of \vhich it is impossible for us
tno\V even to inlagine the magnitude. For eighteen
centuries Christianity has been acting on hunlan
society; \ve kno\v but too \vell ho\v far it is fronl
having really made the \vorld Christian; but though
there must ahvays be nluch question as to degree,
no one can seriously doubt that it has done a great
deal. But for the first ten of those centuries it
can hardly be said to have leavened society at all.
Its influence on individuals, so vast and astonish-
ing, ,vas no nleasure at all of its influence on society
at large. It acted upon it doubtless \vith enornlOUS
po\ver; but it ".vas as an extraneous and foreign agent,
,vhich destroys and shapes, but does not mingle or
rene\v. It turned the course of events, it changed
\vorship, it built churches, it suppressed custonlS and
institutions, it imposed punishrrlents and penances,
it affected language, it introduced po\vers, it revolu-
tionized policy, it let loose eventful tendencies; but
to the heart of society,-to the common life of comnlon
Inen, the ideas, the moralities, the instincts, the
assunlptions reigning in business or intercourse in thè
general direction of human activity, to the unpre-
tending, the never-ceasing occupations of fanlily life,-
the a\vful visitant from on high, \vhich had conquered an
empire and put a bridle into the nlouth of barbarians,
anù transformed, one by one, sinners into saints, had
not yet found its \vay. That ordinary daily routine
B2

4

ANSELM OF AOSTA.

[CHAP.

of life, in \vhich ,ve have learned to see one of its
noblest and most adequate spheres, seemed then
beneath its notice, or Q.ut of its reach. The house-
hold, the shop, the market, the school, the farnl,
the places of la,v and conversation and amusement,
never, or but seldom, appeared as the scenes and
trial places of a Christian life: other traditions kept
hold of the '11, and, good or bad, they \vere of times
\vhen there ,vas no Christianity. Society ,vas a long
time unlearning heathenism; it has not done so yet;
but it had hardly begun, at any rate it \vas only just
beginning, to imagine the possibility of such a thing
in the eleventh century. Thus that combination of
real and earnest religion \vith every-day pursuits of life,
\vhich, in idea at least, is so natural and so easy to
us, and is to a very real degree protected and assisted
by general usages and \vays of thinking, \vas then
almost inconceivable. Let a Inan thro\v hinIsc]f
into the society of his day then, and he found him-
self in an atmosphere to 'v hich real religion, the
religion of self-conquest and love, ,vas simply a thing
alien or unmeaning, ,vhich no one imagined himself
called to think of; or else amid eager and over-
mastering activities, fiercely scorning and remorse-
lessly trampling do\vn all restraints of even comnlon
morality. And in this state of society, the baseness
and degradation of Latin civilization, or the la\vless
savagery of its barbarian conquerors, a man ",'as called
to listen to the Sermon on the IVIount, and to give
himself up to the service of the Son of God, ,vho had
died for him and promised him IIis Holy Spirit; to
believe, after this short life of trouble ,vas over, in an
immortality of holiness, and no\v to fit himself for it.

LIBRAr
)

T. j\tARY'S COLl
Ct:
I.] Al\lSELi'v.f OF AOSTA. 5

If we can see ,vhat that contemporary society as a
,vhole ,vas like, and no one has much doubt of its
condition, ,vhat ,vould be the effect of it on those
,vhose lot ,vas to be born in it, and ,vhose heart God
had touched? They could not hclp the sharp line by
,vhich any serious and real religious life in it seemed
to be excluded: their natural thought ,vould be that
to live.such a life they must keep as much out of it as
they could. 1'hat ,vas the principle of monasticism,
the best expedient that then seemed to present itself,
by .which those ,vho believed in Christ's teaching
might be honest in follo,ving it: to leave the un-
nlanageable and uncontrollable sæcullt1Jl to follo,v its
own ,yay, and to secure posts of refuge and shelter out
of its ,vild tumult, ,vhere men might find the religiol1,
,vhich the conditions of actual society seelned to
exclude. That it ,vas a most natural expedient is
sho,vn by the fact that, ,yherever religious convictions
have been unusually keen and earnest in the face of
carelessness and scandals in general society, there,
even among those ,vho have most hated the monks,
as the Puritans of the seventeenth, and the lVIetho-
dists and Evangelicals of the eighteenth century, the
strong disposition to dra,v a sharp line behveen
religion and the ,vorld has sho,vn. itsel[ That such
attempts, in the long run, are vain to exclude the
evils they fear, and are but very partial means to
secure the good they aim at, religious people, in so
early a stage of the experience of the Church, ,vere
less able to perceive than ,ve ,vho have seen the
results of much ,vider and more varied trials. But we
have no right to expect those ,vho had not our oppor-
tunities of seeing things ,vorked out to the end to

6

ANSELM OF A OST A.

[CHAP.

know as nluch as \ve do, to \vhom time and changes
and issues then unimaginable have taught so much.
Any high effort, therefore, in those days to be
.
thorough in religion took the shape of nlonastic
discipline and rule. When \ve call it narro\v and
imperfect, and \vhen we dwell on its failures and cor-
ruptions, \ve must remember, first, the general con-
dition of society of \vhich this irresistible tendency to
monasticisnl \vas the natural and not unreasonable
result; and next, that if \ve have learned better,
\ve have come later on the stage of life. \Vhen
all things are taken into account, it is hard to re-
sist the conclusion that the monks made the best
of their circumstances. If they \vere too sanguine
in one direction, not sanguine and trustful enough
in another, they had not seen so many illusions dis-
pelled as ".e 'have; and, on the other hand, they had
not yet come to kno\v the \vonderful and unexpected
openings for a true service of God, the unthought-of
possibilities of character and goodness, \vhich have
been sho\vn to men in states of life \vhere of old
c;uch service seemed impossible.
In \vriting of any eminen4-ly religious nlan of this
period, it must be taken alnlost as a matter of course
that he \vas a monk. St. Anselm, one of the most
remarkable men and most attractive characters, not
only of the l\liddle Ages but of the \vhole Christian
history, can never be understood or judged of fairly,
except it be kept in mind that the conditions under
which he lived shaped the forms under \vhich religious
effort and earnestness showed themselves, and left
no religious life conceivable but the monastic one.
The paths of life were then few, sharply defined,

. I.]

ANSELl
f OF AOSTA.

7

and narro\v. A man ,vho ,vanted to be active in the
,vorld had little choice but to be a soldier; a man who
"'anted to serve God ,vith all his heart had little choice
but to be a n10nk.
Anselm, therefore, ,vas a monk throughout, and in
all his thoughts and ,vays, just as a soldier who is
loyal to his profession can no\vhere be uninfluenced
by its rules and habits. But he ,vas nluch lllore than
a n10nk. . A great teacher, a great thinker, a great
kindler of thought in others, he ,,'as also an example of
gallant and unselfish public service, rendered ,\'ithout
a thought of his o\\'n convenience or honour, to fulfil
,vhat seemed a plain duty, in itself very distasteful,
and not difficult to evade, if he had ,vished to evade it.
Penetrated, too, as he \vas by the unflinching austerity
of that hard and stern time, he ,vas remembered
among men, less as the great sage ".ho had opened
ne\v paths to thought, or as the great archbishop ,,'ho
had not been afraid of the face of kings, or as the
severe restorer of an uncompromising and high aiming
discipline, than as the loving and sympathizing Chris-
tian brother, full of s\veetness, full of affection, full of
goodness, full of allo\vances and patience for others,
,vhom men of all conditions liked to converse ,vith,
and \vhom neither high nor lo\v ever found cold in his
friendshi p, or unnatural and forced ia his condescension.
1"'here is naturally not much to say about his early
life. The chroniclers of those days \vere not in the
habit of going back to a man's first days; they \vere
satisfied "rith taking him \"hen he began to make
himself known and felt in the ,vorld. It is a point of
more than ordinary interest as regards Anselm, that
we have some a
thentic information about the times

8

ANSELJI OF AOSTA.

[CHAP.

when no one cared about him. He had the fortune to
have a friend \vho \vas much \vith him in his later
life, loyal, affectionate, simple-hearted, admiring, \vho,
more than most of his contemporaries among literary
monks, ,vas alive to points of character. Eadmer, the
Englishman, a monk of Canterbury, \vho \vas Anselrn's
pupil and then his follo\ver and attendant in banish-
!nent, sa\v
omething else \vorth recording in his great
archbishop besides the public passages of his life and
his supposed miracles. He observed and recorded
\vhat Anselm \vas as a man, and not merely \vhat he
,vas as an ecclesiastic. \Ve o\ve to him the notice that
Anselm \vas fond of talking about his boyhood to his
friends; and \ve o\ve to him, on good authority, cir-
cumstances about Anselm's first years, \vhich in other
cases we only get fron1 later l1earsay.
Anselm \vas born about 1033 at Aosta, or in its
neighbourhood. The old cantonment of Terentius
Varro, the conqueror, under Augustus, of the \vild
hill-tribes of the Alps, at the foot of the t\vo famous
passes \vhich no,v bear the name of 51. Bernard
of Menthon,-still keeping the shape of a camp
given to it by the Roman
ngineers, and still sho\v-
iog many remains of th
grand masonry of the
Roman builders,-had then become a border city
and an ecclesiastical centre in the Alpine valleys
\vhich parted the great races of the north and
south, and through ,vhich the tides of their \vars
rolled back\vards anJ fonvards. In its middle age
to\vers built of the squared ashlar of the ROlnan
ramparts, in the rude crypts of its t\VO churches, in
the quaint colonnades of its cloisters, in the mosaic
pavements of its cathedral choir, half Pagan half

I.]

ANSEL1vf OF AOSTA.

9

Christian, in \v hich \vhat looks at first sight like a
throned image of our Lord, turns out to be onl y an
allegory of the year and its seasons-nay, in its very
population, in ,vhich, side by side \vith keen Italians
from the plains and stahvart mountaineers from the
.i\lps, c.:- race diseased in blood for long centuries and
degraded to a degeneracy of human organization as
hopeless, as in Europe it is \vithout parallel, grins and
gibbers about the streets-Aosta still bears the traces
of \vhat it \vas, in its civilization as in its position;
the chief place of a àebateable land, \vhere Chris-
tianity and heathenism, Burgundians and Lombards,
Franks and Italians, had met and fought and mixed.
The bishopric, founded, it is
,said, in the fifth century
from the see of \T ercelli, had been at one time a
suffragan see of l\Iilan ; its name' \vas ,vritten on one
of the episcopal thrones \vhich 'were ranged right and
left of the marble chair of S1. Ambrose, in the semi-
circle at the eastern apse of the church which bore his
name: on the right, the seats and names of Vercelli,
Novara, Lodi, Tortona, Asti, Turin, Aosta, Acqui,
and Genoa; on the left, those of Brescia, Bergamo,
Cremona, Vintimiglia, Savona, Albenga, Pavia, Pia-
cenza, and Como. But later it had follo\ved the
political changes of the Alpine valleys; the Bishop
of Aosta is found ,vith those of Geneva and Lausanne
figuring at the consecration of a Burgundian king at
St. l\Iaurice in the Valais ; he received the dignity and
feudal po\vers of a count, and even still he is said to
bear the title of Count of Cogne, one of the neigh-
bouring valleys. The district had had its evangelizing
saints, St. Gratus, St. U rsus, and St. J ucundus, names
little kno\vn else\vhere, but meeting us still every\vhere

10

ANSELAI OF AOSTA.

[CHAP.

round Aosta. Eadmer describes it as lying on the
confines of Lombardy and Burgundy-one of those
many Burgundies \vhlch so confuse historians ;-at
this time, that kingdom of Burgundy or Arles \vhich
had ceased to be an independent kingdom the year
before Anselm's birth, by the death of Rudolf 111.,
1032, and had become part of the Empire. It included
Provence, Dauphiny, South Savoy, and the country
between the Saône and Jura (Regnum Provinciæ), \vith
Burgulldia TraJlsjuralla,. North Savoy, and S\vitzer-
land behveen the Reuss and Jura. The valley had
formed part of the dominions of the thrice-married
Adelaide, the heiress of the 1\larquises of Susa and
Turin, the" most excellent Duchess and l\iarchioness
of the Cottian Alps," as she is styled at the time: her
last husband \vas ado or Otto, the son of Humbert of
the \Vhite Hands, Count of Maurienne. From this
n1arriage is descended the house of Savoy and the
present line of Italian kings; and of the heritage of
this house Aosta henceforth ah\Tays formed a part,
and its name continues among their favourite titles.
The scenery of Anselm's birthplace, ",vild Aosta
lulled by Alpine rills," is familiar to the cro\vds ,vho
are yearly attracted to its neighbourhood by the
love of Alpine grandeur and the interest of Alpine
adventure, and \vho pass through it on their ,yay to
and from the peaks and valleys of the \vonderful
region round it. The district itself is a mountain
land, but one \vith the richness and warmth of the
South, as it descends to\vards the level of the river, the
Dora Baltea, \vhich carries the glacier torrents from the
mountains round 1\lont Blanc and the Matterhorn to
the plains \vhere they meet the Po. Great ridges,

I.]

Al\"SELiJf OF AOSTA.

I[

masking the huge n1asses of the high Alps behind
them, flank its long valley as it runs straight from
east to \vest. Closely overhanging the city on the
south, rises rapidly a wall of sub-alpine mountain,
for great part of the day in shado\v, torn by ravines,
\vith woods and pastures hanging on its steep flanks and
\vith \vhite houses gleaming among them, but tower-
ing up at last into the dark precipices of the Becca di
N ona and the peak of Mont Emilius. At the upper
end of the valley towards the ,vest, seen over a vista
of \valnuts, chestnuts, and vines, appear high up in
the sky, resting as it \vere on the breast of the great
hills, the \vhite glaciers of the Ruitor, bright in sun-
shine, or veiled by storms: and from the bridge over
the torrent \vhich rushes by the city from the north,
the eye goes up to the everlasting sno\vs of the
"dollied V elan," and the majestic broken Pikes of
the Grand Combin. It is a region strongly and cha-
racteristically marked. The legends of the valley
have not forgotten Anselm: they identify the village
\vhere he lived, the tower \vhich "'as the refuge or the
lair of his family,! the house in the suburbs of the
city \vhere he \vas born; in the sacristy of the cathe-
dral they show his relics along \vith those of the local
Saints, St. Gratus and St. J ucundus. These legends
are not in themselves \vorthless; there is no reason
,vhy tradition should not have preserved real re-
collections: but no documentary evidence appears for
them, and it is quite possible that they gre\v up only
because in regions far distant Anselm became a
famous man and a saint of the Church. Aosta and

1 The village with the ruined tower is Gressan, a few miles S. \V. of
Aosta.

12

ANSELJl OF AOSTA.

[CHAP.

its scenery after all has little to do \vith the events
of Anselnl's life, and had probably little influence in
shaping his mind and character. We only knovv, on
.
his O'wn authority through Eadmer, or from his letters,
that his father Gundulf \vas a Lombard settler at
Aosta, and that he married Ermenberga, \vho \vas
related to the Counts of Maurienne, the upper lords
of the va Hey. Anselm bore a name \vhich \vas
common at that tinle in North Italy, and is nlet
\\Tith three times in the lists of the bishops of Aosta
in the tenth and eleventh centuries. His parents
\vere accounted noble, and had property, for \vhich
they paid homage as vassals to the Count of l\lauri-
enne. His father \vas an unthrifty and violent man,
\vho on his deathbed took the monastic habit. His
mother, a good \vornan and a prudent house\vife, used
to talk to her child, as mothers do, about God, and
gained his love and reverence. From Anselm's let-
ters \ve learn that he had uncles who had been kind
to him, and an only sister, nlarried in the district, \vho
did not forget, in after-times, that her brother had
become the Prinlate of distant and famous England.
We know nothing more of his family.
The only trace of the influence on him of the
scenery in the midst of ,vhich he gre\v up is found
in the story of a boyish dream ,vhich made an impres-
sion on hinl, as it is one of the fe\v details about
his life at Aosta \vhich, doubtless from his o\vn
mouth, Eadmer has preserved. The story is not
,vithout a kind of natural grace, and fits in, like a
playful yet significant overture, to the history of his
life. " Anselm," it says, ",vhen he ,vas a little child,
used gladly to listen, as far as his age allo\ved to his

I.]

AJVSELJf OF AOSTA.

13

Dlother's conversation; and having heard from her
that there is one God in heaven above, ruling all
things, and containing all things, he imagined, like
a boy bred up among the mountains, that heaven
rested on the mountains, that the palace of God \va

there, and that the \vay to it \vas up the mountains.
His thoughts ran much upon this; and it came to
pass on a certain night that he dreamed that he ought
to go up to the top of the mountain, and hasten to
the palace of God, the Great King. But before he
began to ascend he sa\v in the plain \vhich reached
to the foot of the mountain \VOnlen reaping the corn,
\vho \\
ere the King's maidens; but they did their
,york very carelessly and slothfully. The boy, grieved
at their sloth and rebuking it, settled in his minå to
accuse them before the Lord, the IZing. So having
pressed on to the top of the mountain, he came into
the palace of the IZing. There he found the Lord,
,vith only his chief butler: for as it seemed to him,
all the household had been sent to gather the har-
vest; for it \vas autumn. So he \vent in, and the Lord
called him; and he dre\v near and sat at his feet. Then
the Lord asked him \vith gracious kindness, ,vho he
\vas, and ",.hence he came, and 'vhat he \vanted. He
ans\vered according to the truth. Then the Lord
commanded, and bread of the \vhitest \vas brought to
him by the chief bu tier; and he ate and ,vas refreshed
before the Lord. Therefore, in the morning, \vhen
he recalled \vhat he had seen before the eyes of his
mind, he believed, like a simple and innocent chi1d,
that he really had been in heaven, and had been re-
freshed by the bread of the Lord; and so he declared
public1y before others."

14

..,1NSELAI OF AOSTA.

[CHAP.

From his boyhood he seems to have been a student,
and he early felt the common attraction of the age
for the monastic life. "He \vas not vet fifteen , \vhen
. J
he began to consider ho\v he might best shape his life
according to God; and he came to think \vith himself
that nothing in the conversation of men \\'as better
than the life of monks. He ,vrote therefore to a
certain abrot \vho \vas kno\vn to him, and asked that
he might be Inade a monk. But ,vhen the abbot
learned that Anseln1 \\'as asking ,vithout his father's
kno\vledge, he refused, not \yishing to give offence to
his father." Anselm then, according to a common ided.
so often met \vith in the records of mediæval religion,
prayed that he might be struck ,vith sickness, in order
that the repugnance of his friends to his proposed
change of life might be overcome. He fell sick; but
even then the fear of his father hindered his reception,
and he recovered. "It ,vas not God's \vill," says his
biographer, "that he should be entangled in the con-
versation of that place."
Then came the time of reaction; rene\ved health
and youth and prosperity ,vere pleasant, and put the
thoughts of a religious life out of his mind: he looked
fonvard no\v to entering ., the ,vays of the ,vorld."
Even his keen love of study, to ,vhich he had been so
devoted, gave ,yay before the gaieties and sports of his
time of life. His affection for his mother ,vas a partial
restraint on him; but ,vhen she died, "the ship of his
heart lost its anchor, and drifted off altogether into
the ,vaves of the \\yorld.)) But fanlily disagreements
sprung up. His biographer, perhaps he himself too in
after life, sa\v the hand of Providence in his father's'
harshness to him, ,vhich no submission could soften,

1.]

Al\/'SEL11I OF AOSTA.

15

and ,vhich at last drove him in despair to leave his
home, and after the fashion of his countrymen to seek
his fortune in strange lands. Italians, especially Lom-
bards, meet us continually in the records and letters
of this time as ,yanderers, adventurers, monks, in N or-
mandy and even England. He crossed l\lont Cenis
,vith a single clerk for his attendant, and he did not
forget the risk and fatigue of the passage. He spent
three years partly in 'what ,vas then called Burgundy,
the portions of modern France corresponding roughly
,vith the valley of the Saône and Rhone, and the
upper valley of the Seine, partly in France proper,
the still narro,v kingdom of ,vhich Paris and Rheims
and Orleans ,vere the chief cities; then, follo,ving
perhaps the track of another Italian, Lanfranc of
Pavia, he came to Normandy, and remained for a
time at Avranches, ,vhere Lanfranc had once taught.
Finally, he follo,ved Lanfranc, no,y a famous master,
to the monastery ,,,here he had becorne prior, the
ne,vl y-founded monastery of Bec. Bec ,vas a school
as ,veIl as a monastery, and there Anselm, along ,vith
other young men \\'hom the gro\\ring \vish to learn and
the fame of the teacher had dra,vn thither, settled
himself, not as a monk but as a student, under Lan-
franc. The monastery of. Bec ,vas so characteristic a
gro,vth of the time, and in its short-lived but brilliant
career of glory exercised so unique and eventful an
influence, that a fe,v ,vords may be properly given
to it.

.

CHAPTER II.

....OU
DATION OF THE MO
ASTERY OF BEC.

" There is a day in spring
'Vhen under all the earth the secret germs
Begin to stir and glow before they bud:
The wealth and festal pomps of midsummer
Lie in the heart of that inglorious day,
\Vhich no man names with blessing, though its work
Is blest by all the world,"
The Story of Queen Isabel, by
I. s.

IN the end of the tenth and the beginning of the
eleventh century the \vaste caused by the great inva-
sion \vhich had made Normandy \vas beginning to be
repaired. The rapidity \vith ,vhich the Normans took
the impress of their ne,v country, and assimilated
themselves to the Latin civilization round them, is
one of the most remarkable points in the character of
this remarkabI.e race. Chlì.rches and monasteries had
perished among the other desolations of Rollo's Pagan
sea-kings: but the children of Rollo's Pagan sea-
kings had become the settled lords of lands and
forests and to,vns ; and though the taint of heathenisll1
was still among them, even in their creed, and m ueh
more in their tnorality, the most in1portant portion .of
them had con1e to feel about their ne\v faith as if it
\vas the one ,yhich all their forefathers had ever held.
Churches and n10nasteries \vere beginning to risc

CHAP. II.]

THE JI0
VAST ERY OF BEC.

17

again. The famous house of J umiéges, ,vhich Hasting
the pirate had destroyed, had been restored by Rollo's
son, \Villiam Longs,vord, about 940; another of
Hasting's ruins, St. \Vandrille at Fontanelle, ,vas re-
stored by Richard the Good (1008). Fécamp, Mont St.
1Ylichel, St. Ouen, ascribed their foundation or renova-
tion to his father, Richard the Fearless, still, like \Vil-
liam LOllgS\vord, a cc Duke of Pirates" to the French
chronicler Richer (943-996). At Fécamp, where he had
a palace, he built or rebuilt an abbey and minster in
prospect of the sea, from ,vhich his fathers had come;
minster and palace, as at \tVestminster, Holyrood,
and the Escurial, ,vere in close neighbourhood. The
church, one of the first of ,vhich ,ve have any details,
,vas costly and magnificent for the time; an architect
\vas carefully sought out for it, and it ,vas t( constructed
of ',veIl-squared masonry by a Gothic hand,'-the
Goth being unquestionably a master mason from
Lombardy or the Exarchate." "It 'vas adorned by
lofty to\vers, beautifully finished ,vithout and richly
ornamented ,vithin." "There ,vas one object, ho\v-
ever, ,vhich excited much speculation. It ,vas a large
block of stone placed fight across the path ,vhich led
to the transept doonvay, so close to the portal as to
be beneath the drip of the eaves. . . . Fashioned and
located by Duke Richard's order, the stone ,vas ho1-
lo\ved out so as to form a huge strong chest, which
might be used as a coffin or a sarcophagus. Its present
employment, ho-wever, ,vas for the living and not for
the dead. On the eve of every Lord's-day the chest.
or ,vhatever it might be called, \\yas filled to the britn
,vith the finest \vheat-corn-then a cate or luxury,
as it is no\v considered in many parts oÍ France. To
SoL. x. C

18

FOUNDA TION OF THE

[CHAP.

this receptacle the poor resorted, and each filled his
measure of grain." They also received a dole of
money, and an altnoner carried the gift to the sick.
\Vhen Richard died, -then the purpose of the chest
,vas made clear. Ie I-Iis last instructions '''ere, that the
chest should contain his corpse, lying \vhere the foot
should tread, and the de\v descend, and the ,vaters of
heaven should fall." 1 l-Ie

" l\1arked for his own,
Close to those cloistered steps, a buriaI-pl:1ce,
That every foot might fall with heavier tread,
Trampling his yileness."

Richard the Good favoured still more the increasing
tendency to church building and the restoration of
monasteries; and the Norman barons began to follo\v
the exam pIe of their chiefs. They rivalled one another,
says Ordericus, the chronicler of St. Evroul, in the
good ,york and in the largeness of their alms; and a
po\verful Inan thought that he laid himself open to
mockery if he did not help clerks or monks on his
lands \vith things needful for God's \varfare. Roger
de Toeni built the Abbey of Conches, and brought
a monk from Fécamp to be its first abbot (1035).
Goscelin, Count of Arques, founded that of the
"Trinité du Mont"(I030), on that Mount St. Cathe-
rine \vhich looks do\vn on Rouen, and brought a
German n10nk froll1 St. \Vandrillc to govern it; and
[rOin this house, again, \Villiam, Count of Eu, or his
\vido,v, called another German, Ain1ard, to be the
abbot of their ne,v foundation at St. Pierre sur Dive
(1046). .LJ\bout the same time Willian1 Fitz-Osbern,
soon to be a fatnous name, founded an abbey at Lire

1 Palgraye, iii. 21- 2 7.

n.]

JJfONASTE"R Y OF BEe.

19

(1046), and later another at Cormeilles (1060). At
Pont Audemer t,vo houses, one for men and another
for ,vomen, ,vere founded by Humphrey de Vieilles.
T,vo brothers of the famous house of Grentmaisnil
began on their lands a foundation \vhich ,vas after-
,yards transferred, at the instance of their relative,
\Villiam the son of Geroy, to a site anciently haÍ-
lo,ved, then made desolate by "'ar, and lately
again occupied for its old purpose in the humblest
fashion ;-the spot on ,vhich arose the important
Illonastery of St. Evroul or Ouche (1056). \;Villian1,
son of Geroy, ,,,,ho had first thought of restoring St.
Evroul, ,vas the son of a father ,,,ho, fierce ,varrior
as he "Tas, is said by Orderic to have "built six
churches in the name of the Lord out of his o\vn
Ineans" in different parts of his estates. This n1ust
have been in the early part of the eleventh century.
But along ,vith the account of this remarkable
movement are deep and continual complaints of the
character both of clergy and monks. Restoring
churches ,vas one thing; having fit Inen to serve in
them ,vas another. Thc change ,vas so great betwcen
the end of the century and the beginning, bet\vecn
the religious feeling of the men ,vho lived ,,'ith
\VilliaIll the Conqueror and Lanfranc, and those who
livcd ,vhen Richard the Good built Fécamp, that son1C
allo,vance Illust be Inade for the depreciating and
contemptuous tone in ,vhich a strict age is apt to
speak of the levity and insensibility of an easier one
before it. Such judgn1ents are often unjust and
ah\Ta ys suspicious. All ,vas not godless and cold in
the last century, though the more decided opinions or
greater zeal of this often makes it a proverb of reproach.
C 2

20

FOUNDATION OF THE

[CHAP.

But still it is clear that the Norman clergy as a ,vhole
,vere rude, ignorant, and self-indulgent, to a degree
,vhich seemed monstrous and intolerable fifty years
later. The chief ecclesiastical dignity of the duchy, the
great Archbishopric of Rouen, ,vas occupied for a hun-
dred and thirteen years by three prelates, of ,vhom the
least scandalous part of their history ,vas that t\vo of
them ,ver p bastards of the ducal house, and ,vho in their
turbulence and licence ,vere not to be distinguished
from the most unscrupulous of the military barons
round them. Marriage ,vas common, even among
bishops; it may not ah\'ays have been marriage, but
there plainly ,vas a connection ,vhich ,vas not yet
looked upon, as it came to be at the end of this
century, as concubinage; and even a ,vriter like
Orderic, who of course condemns it unreservedly
in the general, speaks of it incidentally in men
,vhom he respects, and ,vithout being much shocked.
'The clergy ,vere not only easy in their lives; they
,vere entirely ,vithout learning; and the habit prevailed
of their holding lay fees by military service, and
of bearing anTiS ,vithout scruple. The old Danish
leaven ,vas still at ,vork. In 1049 a council at Rheims,
held under Pope Leo IX., formally forbade clerics to
,year ,varlike ,veapons or to perform military service.
The standard ,vas lo,v among churchmen, according
to the ideas of the age, both as to kno\vledgc and
morality. Atten1pts ,vere made from time tð time to
raise it. The example of the great abbeys in France,
Cluni and 1\1armoutier, ,vas appealed to. A colony
of monks from one of them ,,'as introduced into a
N orman house to reform it. Strangers of high
character, Frenchmen, Germans, Italians, \vere placed

n.]

MONASTER Y OF BEC.

21

at the head of abbeys, as Duke Richard invited St.
WilIialTI of Dijon to Fécamp. These things \vere
probably not \vithout their effect. But a real move-
ment of \vholesome and solid change, though the
stimulus may come from \vithout, must begin and
gro\v up at home. It must spring out of native feel-
ings and thought, and an understanding of necessities
on the spot, and it must shape itself amid the circum-
stances in \vhich it is to act.
And so, in fact, the reform came; influenced by
external example, directed by foreign experience,
but of home gro\vth in the \vill to begin it, and in
the heart to carry it out. The monasteries \vhich \ve
have read of \vere founded or restored by great and
po\verful men; their motives probably \vere mixed,
but an10ng these motives, there is no reason to doubt,
\vas the ,vish to help the side of goodness and peace;
to strengthen it by the efforts of Inen \vho under-
took to live for it; to give it stability and even
grandeur in the \vorld-a grandeur not dispropor-
tionate to its o\vn claims, and to the grandeur \vhich
\vas realized in the secular state. But there was one
thing \vhich these foundations had not ;-the founder
was not the occup
nt of the house \vhich he founded;
he founded it for others to live and work in, and
not himself. The life and vigour \v.nich come when
a man thro\vs himself \vith all his soul into a work
or an institution-and nothing less could suffice to
give success to an undertaking like the monastic rule
-\vere \vanting. The genuine impulse, coming not
from patronage, but from enthusiasm, not from the
desire to see others do a hard and important thing,
but to do it oneself; the impulse, not from above and

2

FOUNDA TION OF THE

[ CHAP.

outside, but from below and fronl the heart of society
itself, ,vas first seen in the attempt, plain, hunlble,
homely, unpretending ,vithout the faintest thought
or hope of great results, ,vhich led to the growth
-its actual foundation ,vas in the last degree insig-
nificant-of the famous abbey of Bee.
It is hardly too much to say that the character
of the Abbey of Bec influenced not merely Norman
monasticism, but the ,vhole progress of learning, educa-
tion, and religious thought and feeling in Normandy,
more than any other institution. Orderic, the chro-
nicler of Normandy and N orn1an life, ,vhose praise
of other monasteries is very \varm, but usually
rather vague and undiscrin1Ïnating, is in the case of
Bee, in spite of the exaggeration of his high-fJo,vn
eulogies, unusualIy distinct in ,vhat he fixes upon as
characteristic. It is the intellectual activity of Bec
on ,vhich he d,vells, as marking it out from all other
houses. The men of Bec ,vere excellent n10nks;
he ,praises especialIy their cheerfulness anlong one
another, and he cannot say enough of their hospi-
tality: "Burgundians and Spaniards, strangers fro In
far or near, ,vill ans,ver fOI it ho,v kindly they have
been ,velcomed. . . The door of Bec is open to every
traveller, and to no one \vho asks in the name of
charity is their bread denied." But the thing \vhich
above all strikes him in them, as different from other
communities round, is their unique en1inence as a
school of study and teaching. He d\vells at great
length and \vith much satisfaction on the pursuits fol-
lo\ved at his o\vn monastery, St. Evroul; he mentions
the names of its distinguished members; and he hin1-
self is a proof that its cloister \vas not an idle or care-

11.]

ltIONASTERY OF BEC.

23

less one: but the things \vhich \vere cultivated and \vere
of repute at St. Evroul, ,vere the art of copying books
and church music. But ,vhat he not
s at Bec ,vas a
spirit of intellectual vigour in the whole body ,vhich
does not appear else,vhere. Bec first opened to
Normandy the \vay of learning. "Under Lanfranc the
Normans first fathomed the art of letters; for under the
six dukes of Normandy scarce anyone among the
Normans had applied himself to liberal studies, nor
,vas there any teacher found, till God, the Provider of
all things, brought Lanfranc to Normandy." There
is perhaps a touch of sly half-unconscious banter in
the remark that the monks of Bec It seem almost all
philosophers," and "from their conversation, even
that of those ,vho seem illiterate among them, and are
called rustics, even pompous men of letters (spltl1lalltes
gral1l1llatici) may learn something \vorth kno\ving."
It is something like the half-compliment, half-sneer,
of the nickname \vhich used to be applied in Oxford
to one of its most famous colleges, in days \"hen it
led the ,yay in revived religious and intellectual
earnestness, and opened the march of university
reform. But it is not the less a proof of the ,yay
in ,vhich Bec \vas regarded. Yet no monastery in
Normandy started from humbler beginnings, or less
contemplated ,vhat it achieved.
"The tale of the early days of Bec," says 1\1r. Free-
man, "is one of the Inost captivating in the \vhole
range of monastic history and monastic legend. It
has a character of its o,vn. The origin of Bee differs
from that of those earlier monasteries ,vhich grad ually
grew up around the d,velling-place or the burial-place
of some revered bishop or saintly hermit. I t differs

24

FOU1YD.A TIO.J.V OF THE

[ CH.\.P.

again froIn the origin of those monasteries of its o\vn
age, \vhich ,vcre the creation of some one external
founder. Or rather, it united the t\yO characters in
one. It gradually rose to greatness from very small
beginnings; but gradual as the process ,vas, it took
place ,,"ithin the lifetime of one man; and that man
,vas at once its founder and first ruler. The part of
Cuthberht at Lindisfarne, the parts of \Villiam and of
Lanfranc aL Caen, \vere all united in I-Ierhvin, Knight,
Founder, and Abbot."
The Abbey of Bec, or, as it should be properly
,vritten, "the Bec" (Lc Bcc), took its name from no
saint, from no previously existing designation of place
or mountain, but from the nameless rivulet, or Bcck,
,vhich flo,ved through the meado,vs ,vhcre it ,vas at
last built, and \\Thich \vashed the abbey ,vall. These
fields \vere on the skirts of the forest of Brionne:
and the Beck, on ,vhich ,vere originally hvo or three
mills, flo\ved through a little valley into one of the
streams of eastern N onnandy, the Rille. The Rille
springs from the high ground ,vhere the chief rivers of
Normandy all rise near to another, the Eure, the Iton,
the Touque, the Dive, the Orne; and it flo\vs [ronl
north to south, by Pont .L\udemer, into the great
n1üuth of the Seine, belo,v Quillebæu[ The map
sho\vs us, marked on its course, many naines, since
becon1e familiar and illustrious in England: l\lont-
fort, Harcourt, Beaumont, Romilly. T,vo castles on
its banks were very famous in the history of N or-
mandy-the Eagle's Castle, CastrltlJl Aquilæ, L'Aiglc,
in its upper course; and Brionne, half-way to the sea.
Brionne, the H noble castle," not the fortress on the
rock, of \\'hich the ruins remain now, but one on an

II.]

.l1fO!lASTER Y OF BEC.

25

island in the river, \vas one of the keys of the lænd,
a coveted trust and possession among the rival lords
of N onnandy; often exchanging n1asters, often be-
sieged, \von and lost. In the days of Duke Robert, the
Conqueror's father (r028-r035), it ,,'as held by Count
Gilbert, hin1self of the ducal house; \vho, \"hen Duke
Robert ,,'ent on the Eastern pilgrin1age [ron1 \vhich he
never came back, \vas left one of the guardians of his
young son. Aluong Count Gilbert's retainers \vas
Herhvin, a soldier of the old Danish stock, but \vith
noble Flemish blood in his veins from his mother.
Herlwin, a brave knight, \vise in council, and faluous
after he became abbot for his thorough familiarity
\vith the customs and legal usages of the Normans,
\vas high in favour and honour both \vith Count Gilbert
and Duke Robert. There \vas a natural nobleness
and generosity too about him, that did not ahvays
go together \vith the stout arm and strong head. His
biographer tells that once, \vhen he thought he had
been ill-used by his lord, he absented himself from his
service; but after a \vhile he heard that Count Gilbert
"Nas engaged in a quarrel \vith a powerful neighbour
\vhom he had challenged, and that a battle \vas at
hand. On the day fixed for the battle, \vhen Count
Gilbert \vas anxiously lueasuring his strength, a band
of Ì\\renty men \vas seen a pproachillg behind hi n1. It
\vas Herhvin, \vho, \vith unlooked-for generosity, had
con1e, in spite of his sense of injury, to help his lord
at his need. The battle \vas stopped by the Duke's
officers, and the quarrel referred to his court; and
Herlwin \yas reconciled \vith Count Gilbert. But in
this \vild society and \vild household, Herhvin \vas a
man \vhose heart \vas touched \vith the thoughts and

26

FOUNDATION OF THE

[ CHAP.

claims of another \vorld. He tried in his ,vay, and
,,'ith such light as he had, to lead a pure and Christian
life; he tried, in many uncouth and perhaps absurd
,vays, to be true to his.conscience; he tried, in spite
of mockery and jeers from his rough fello\vs, ,vho in
those days, \ve are told, could not understand anyone
in a ,vhole skin thinking of religion. The \vays of a
Norman military family ,vere more and more dis-
tasteful to 111m; and, in spite of his lord's reluctance
to part \vith so faithful a vassal, his mind ,vas set
more and more on getting free in the only \vay \vhich
seemed open to him. A story is told by the chronicler
of the neighbouring house of St. Evroul, in introducing;
his name and foundation, \vhich does not appear ill
the traditions of Bec, that Herhvin's final resolution
'vas the result of a Vo\V made in a tnoment of ÍInn1inent
peril in battle. He had accompanied Count Gilbert
in a great expedition into a neighbouring land, the
Vimeu, the district of the Lo\ver Somtne; but things
H fell not out to Count Gilbert according to his desire.
For Ingelram, Count of Ponthieu, met him ,,,ith a strong
force, and engaging him, put him to flight ,vith his
men, and of the fugitives many \vere taken, and many
slain, and many disabled ,vith ,vounds. 1'hen a certain
soldier there named Herhvin, fearing the danger, and
flying ,vith all his might for his life, vowed to God
that, if he got off safe from so present a danger, he
would henceforth be soldier to none but God. By
God's ,vill he honourably escaped, and, mindful of his
vow, left the ,vorld, and in his patrimony, in a place
called Bec, founded a monastery to St. Mary, l\iother
of God." The story may be true, as it is characteristic
of the time, and is not meant to reflect on Herlwin's

II.]

i1fONASTER Y OF BEe.

27

courage; but it is not inconsistent \\"ith the accounts
\vhich represent Herlwin's change as arising from
deeper and more serious feelings.
Herhvin had no thought of anything but following
the leading of a simple and earnest heart, \vhich
impressed on him \vith ever-increasing force that a life
of strife, greed, and bloodshed, a life of pride and sen-
suality-the life \vhich he sa,v all round him-\vas no
life for a Christian. He kne\v but one \vay of escaping
from it; and the one motive of all that led to the
creation of his monastery \vas the resolution to escape.
No project of foundation, no ideas, ho\vever vague, of
general reform, crossed his mind. He found himself
living where prayer seemed a mockery, \vhere selfish-
ness and hatred ruled, \vhere God \vas denied at every
step; and he sought a shelter, the humblest and most
obscure he could find, \vhere he might pray and
believe and be silent. That alone, but that in the
most thorough and single-minded earnestness, led
him to give up his place, a favoured and honoured
one, in the society round him, for the Inost unpre-
tending form of monastic devotion. He could live
\vith a fe\v companions on his property, \vhere he
could build them a humble d\velling and a church,
and \vhere they could make it their employment to
\vorship and praise God. He \va
about thirty-seven
years old \vhen his thoughts turned to this change of
life. Herhvin \vas a genuine Norman, resolute, in-
flexible in purpose, patient in \vaiting his time, ".holly
devoted to his end, daunted by no repulse, shre\vd,
sturdy, and sure of his ground, and careless of appear-
ances in comparison \vith \vhat ,vas substantial in his
object. The time had not yet come for the enthu-

28

FOUND.ATION OF THE

[CHAP.

siasm and the fashion among Normans for the monastic
life, the life, as ,ve should call it, of strict and serious
religious profession. Priest and bishop still kept up the
old Norse habit of ,vearing arms, and lived very much
like their n1ilitary brethren. Herhvin \vent through
the ordeal of jeers, annoyances, and fro\vns, ,vhich a
profession of strictness, probably coarse and rude in
its form, \vas likely to meet ,vith from the coarse and
mocking fighting men collected about a po\verful
Norman chief. It \vas not easy for a brave soldier
and a useful vassal to get leave to quit his lord's
service, and it ,vas not safe to offend him by quitting
it \vithout leave. Herlwin tried long in vain: at last
the tie broke under the strain. Herhvin ,vould not
execute some service for his lord ,vhich he thought
unjust, and his lord's vengeance fell on Herhvin's
lands and tenants, and threatened himself. He 'vas
summoned to the lord's court; but he only pleaded
for his poor tenants, and asked nothing for himsel(
His lord 'vas touched, and sent for him and asked
,vhat he really \vanted. "By loving this ,vorld,"
he ans\vered, ,vith many tears, "and in obeying thee,
I have hitherto too much neg]ected God and myself;
I have been altogether intent on training my body,
and I have gained no education for my soul: if ever I
have deserved ,veIl of thee, let me pass ,,,hat remains
of my life in a n10nastery. Let me keep your love,
and ,vith me give to God ,vhat I had of you." And
he had his ,vish.
He set to ,york at once to build his retreat, and he
sought to gain some kno,vledge of the practice of
.monastic discipline. His first attempts led to some
rude experiences. "The manners of the time were

II.]

.iJfOJ.VASTERY OF BEC.

29

still barbarous all over Normandy," says his bio-
grapher, \vho tells, 'with a kind of sly gravity, ho\v
\vhile Herhvin "ras once ,vatching, \vith the deepest
admiration and reverence, the grave order of some
monks seated in their cl
ister, he suddenly found him-
self saluted by a hearty cuff on the back of his neck
from the fist of the custodian, ,vho had taken him
for a thief, and \vho dragged him by his hair out
of doors; and ho\v this "solace of edification" ,vas
followed at a monastery of greater name, by seeing
the monks in their Christmas procession laughing and
joking to the cro,vd, sho\ving off their rich vestments
to the bystanders, and pushing and fighting for places,
till at last one monk knocked do\vn another, ,,,ho \vas
hustling him, flat on his back on the ground. But,
undiscouraged, Her! win ,vent on.
He first established his house on his patrimony at
Bonneville, a place a short distance from Brionne. He
himself dug the foundations for his church, carried
a\vay the rubbish, and brought on his shoulders the
stones, sand, and lime; and \vhen he had ended the
day's ,york, he learned the psalter at night, \vhich he
had not time for by day. At forty years old he
learned his letters and taught himself to read. At
length his church ,vas built; and in 1034, he, ,,-ith Ì\vo
companions, \vas made a monk by the Bishop of
Lisieux. Three years after, he \vas ordained priest,
and n1adc abbot of the ne\v house, "because, it being
so poor, no one else ,vould take the government."
"He ruled most strictly, but in the manner of the
pious fathers. You might see the abbot, ,vhen the
office v;as done in church, carrying the seed-corn on
his shoulder, and a rake or nlattock in his hand, going

3 0

FOUNDATION OF THE

[CHAP.

forth to the field. The monks ,vere busy with labour
all day; they cleaned the land from thorns and
brambles; others brought dung on their shoulders and
spread it abroad. Thcy hoed, they so\ved; no one
ate his bread in idleness; and at each hour of prayer
they assembled for service at the church." Herhvin's
mother, a lady of noble blood from Flanders, made
over all her lands, and served the comnlunity as their
handmaid, ,vdshing their clothes, and fulfilling to the
utmost ,,,hatever "Tas enjoined her.
The ne\v house had its troubles. It \vas burned
dO\Vll , and the report, as it first reached Herhvin, ,vas
that his nlothcr had pcrished. Lifting up his eyes
\vith tears to God, hc cried out, "Thanks be to Thec-,
o God, that my n10ther has been taken a\vay in the
\vork of ministry to Thy servants." The report, ho\\'-
cyer, ,vas a false one. But the place \vas inconvenient.
It \vanted the t".o great necessities of a monastery-
\vood and ,vater. This, reinforced by a vision, made
hinl change his abode. He removed to a spot about
a Inile fronl the castle of Brionne, ,vhere he had
property called, from the stream that flo\ved there,
H The Beck," BccclIs. "This place," says the bio-
grapher, "is in the \vood itself: in the bottom of the
valley of Brionne, shut in on each side by \vooded
hills, convcnient for hun1an use, from the thickness of
the \vood and the refreshment of the stream. It ,vas
a haunt of ganlc. Thcre \vere only the buildings of
three mills there, and but a moderate space of habit-
able ground. \Vhat then should he do? In one of
the mills he had no interest, and in the other t\VO
only a third part, and there \vas not as 111uch of free
3pacc as his house needed. Count Gilbert, too, had

n.]

llIONASTERY OF BEe.

3 1

nothing that he valued more than that "rood. But
Herhvin put his trust in God. He began to ,york,
and God evidently to ".ork ,vith him, for his co-pro-
prietors and neighbours, either by sale or free gift,
gave up to hitn each his portion; and in a short
tin1e he obtained the \vhole \vood of Brionne \"hich
"'as around." He built in the course of a fe\v years
a nc\v church. He settled his brotherhood in a
cloister ".ith \vooden colun1ns. A great storm, in
\yhich the fury of the devil \vas seen, shattered the
\\'ork: "The devil deeply grudged these beginnings
of good things ; he rose \vith great violence on
the roof of the dormitory; thence gathering hin1-
self for his utmost effort, he leaped do\\.n on the
ne\v covering of the ne\v built \valIs, and overthre\v all
in ruins to the ground." "But," continues the bio-
grapher, "that ,vas not the seed \vhich falls on stony
ground and \vithers a\vay, because it has no moisture,
but 'which, received on good ground, brings forth fruit
\vith patience. In the morning, Herhvin showed to the
brethren that' an CllCJJty hatlt done this.' Cheering up
their do\vncast hearts, he began to rebuild the cloister;
and this time he built of stone."
" A \vooded hill," says Mr. Freeman, "divides the
valley of the Risle, \vith the town and castle of
Brionne, from another valley \\ dtered by a small
stream, or in the old Teutonic speech of the Normans,
a bcck. That stream gave its name to the most famous
of Norman religious houses, and to this day the name
of Bec is never uttered to denote that spot \vithout the
distinguishing addition of the name of Her1win. The
hills are still thickly \vooded; the beck still flo\vs
through rich meado,vs and under trees planted by the

3 2

FOUiVDATION OF THE

[CHAP.

.

water-side, by the \valls of \vhat \vas once the reno\vned
monastery to \vhich it gave its name. But of the
days of Herhvin no trace remains besides these im-
perishable \vorks of nature. A tall tovler, of rich and
fanciful design, one of the latest \vorks of mediæval
skill, still attracts the traveller from a distance; but of
the mighty minster itself, all traces, save a few snlall
fragments, have perished. The monastic buildings,
like those of so many other monasteries in Normandy
and elsewhere in Gaul, had been rebuilt in the \vorst
days of art, and they are no,v applied to the degrading
purpose of a receptacle of French cavalry. The
gate\vay also remains, but it is, like the rest of the
buildings, of a date far later than the days of Herhvin.
The truest memorial of that illustrious abbey is no\v
to be found in the parish church of the neighbouring
village. In that lowly shelter is still preserved the
effigy \vith \yhich after-times had marked the resting-
place of the founder. Such are all the traces \vhich
no\v remain of the house \vhich once o,vned Lanfranc
anq Anselm as its inmates."
Bec \vould probably have run its course like many
other houses, great and small, j"1 Normandy,-perhaps
continuing in the same humble condition in \vhich it
began, perhaps attracting the notice of po\verful and
\vealthy patrons,-but for an event \vhich shaped its
character and history. Herhvin \vas no scholar; but
\vith the quick shre\vdness of his race-a shre\vdness
\vhich sho\ved itself in his o\vn life by the practical
skill \vhich he had brought \vith him in the legal
customs of his land, and \vhich stood him in good
stead in resisting the encroachments of greedy neigh-
bours-:-he understood the value of scholarship. He

II.]

JIO..YASTER Y OF I1EC.

33

,vished for a cOlnpanion who kne\v luore than him-
self; but such n1cn as yet \vere rare in N orn1andy.
An accident-he looked upon it as God's providence
-fulfilled his desire and determined the fortunes of
Bee. This "'as the chance arrÌ\'al of an Italian
stranger, Lanfranc.
Lanfranc was a Lombard froln Pavia. He is sai.d
to have been of a noble family, and to have taught
and practised la\v in his native city. tIe \vas, at any
rate, according to the measure of the time, a scholar,
trained in \vhat "'as kno\vn of the classic Latin lite-
rature, in habits of dialectical debate, and especially
in those traditions of Roman legal science \vhich yet
lingered in the Italian municipalities. For some un-
known reason, perhaps in quest of fame and fortune,
he left Italy and found his \vay north\vards. It
\vas a fashion among the Lombards. At Avranches,
in the Côtentin, he had opened a sort of school, teach-
ing the n10re advanced kno\vledge of Italy among
people \vho, Xorse as they ,vere in blood, \vere rapidly
and eagerly "
elcoming everything Latin, just as the
aspiring and am bitious half-civilization of R.ussia tried
to copy the fuller civilization of Germany and France.
i\fter a tillie, for equally unknown reasons, he left
.A vranches.
The story \vhich \vas handed do\vn at Bee in after
days, \vhen he had become one of the most famous
men of his day, \vas, that he \vas on his ,vay to Rouen
v:hen he ,vas spoiled by robbers and left bound to a
t['ee, in a forest near the Rille. Night came on, and
he tried to pray; but he could ren1ember nothing
-Psalm or Office. "Lord," he cried, "I have spent
all this time and \\"orn out body and mind in learning;
S.L. x. D

34

FOUNDA TION OF THE

[ CHAP.

and no\v, \vhen I ought to praise Thee, I kno\v not
ho\v. Deliver me froln this tribulation, and \vith Thy
help, I ,vill so correct and frame my life that hence-
forth I may serve Theè." N ext morning when some
passers-by set him free, he asked his ,vay to the
humblest monastery in the neighbourhood, and ,vas
directed to Bee. Another story is told in the Chronicle
of Bec of l1is adventure ,vith the robbers. He ,vas
travelling, ,vith a single scholar as his attendant, to
Rouen, \vhen he fell among robbers, ,vho stripped
him, 1eaving him only an old cloak. Then he ren1em-
bered a story in the dialogues of Gregory the Great,
of a saint ,vho ,vas robbed of his horse by Lombard
thieves, and \vho, as they ,\Tere departing, ,vith Inani-
fest reference to the ,vords of the Sermon on the
IVlount, about giving the cloak to hin1 \vho had taken
a\vay the coat, offered them the only thing they had
left, his \yhip-" You ,vill ,vant it," he said, "to drive the
horse;" and then he turned to his prayer. When the
robbers can1e to a rapid river, the Vulturnus, they
could in no \vise cross it ; and then they bethought
then1 that they had offended by spoiling so completely
the man of God, and they ,vent back and restored
'vhat they had taken. Lanfranc thought that he
would imitate the holy man hoping that the same
effect ll1ight follo\v; and so he offered to the robbers
,vhat they had left hinl, his old cloak. But it only
brought on him \vorse treatment: and he deserved it,
he used to say: "for the saint did it ,vith one intention
and I ,vith another; he did it honestly that they might
keep ,vhat he gave; I \\Tith cunning and craft, that they
might restore and not keep." And so he ,vas punished;
for \vhen he offered them the cloak, they turned upon

II.]

J.
IOIVASTERY OF BEC.

35

hinI, thinking thenlselves mocked, and after beating
him \vell, tied hinl naked to a tree, and his scholar to
another. Then fo11o\vs the account of his turning to
God; and the story ends \\Tith his liberation, not at the
hands of passers-by, but by a miracle.
To this place, as to the poorest and humblest of
brotherhoods, Lanfranc came. The meeting behveen
him and Herh\Tin is thus told. "The abbot happened
to be busy building an oven, ,vorking at it \\'ith his
o\\?n hands. Lanfranc came up and said, 'God save
you. 'God bless you,' said the abbot; 'are you
a I...ombard?' 'I anI,' said Lanfranc. ' \Vhat do you
,vant ?' 'I ,vant to become a monk.' Then the abbot
bade a nIonk named Roger, \vho ,vas doing his o,vn
,york apart, to sho,v Lanfranc the book of the Rule;
which he read, and answered that \vith God's help he
,vauld gladly observe it. Then the abbot, hearing
this, and kno,ving ,,,ho he ,vas and from \\'hence he
came, granted hinI ,vhat he desired. And he, falling
do\vn at the nlouth of the oven, kissed Herlwin's
feet. "
In ,,,elcolning Lanfranc, I-Ierhvin found that he had
\\'clcomed a great master and teacher. Lanfranc,
under his abbot's urging, began to teach; the mon-
astery gre\v into a school: and Bee, intended to be
but the refuge and training-place of a fe\\T narro\v and
ignorant but earnest devotees, thirsting after God and
right an1Ïd the savagery of a half-tan1ed heathenisln,
sprung up, ,vith the rapidity \\"ith ,vhich changes ,,-ere
made in those days, into a centre of thought and
cultivation for \Vestern Christendonl. It \vas the
combination, Inore than once seen in nIodern Europc,
,vhere Italian genius and Northern strength have
D 2

36

FOU
VDA TION OF THE

[CHAP.

been brought together; ,vhere the subtle and rich
and cultivated Southern nature has bcen braced
and tempered into purpose and energy by contact
,vith the bolder and more strong-,villed society of
the North. Lanfranc supplied to the rising religious
fervour of Normandy just the element \vhich it ,vanted,
and \vhich made it fruitful and noble.
It need not be renIarked that in the accounts
,vritten of these times '\'e meet ,vith endless exaggera-
tion. Every great movement carries ,vith it exaggera-
tion : things, too, ".ere undoubtedly pitched high, and
a heroic grandeur ,vas aimed at, in ,,,hat nlen thought
and attenIpted in this tilne ,vhen a ne\,. spirit seemed to
be abroad, and ne\V hopes ,vere stirring in the ,vor1d
and in the Church. And in this case the exaggeration
appears the greater, because men "Tote not in thcir
o\vn language, but in a foreign one, which they only
half knevl ho\v to use. But all is in keeping, all is
consistent and moves together; grotesq ue and absurd
as these exaggerations appear to us no\\', they ,vere
part of the temporary and accidental vesture of men
,vho, in their rude fashion, ,vith little to help them, and
11cdged in by limits as yet inlmoveable, \\'ere fighting
thcir \vay out of ignorance and debasement, and ,vho
did great things. Thus Lanfranc's victory over hiIl1-
self, \vhen the la,vyer and the scholar cast in his lot
\vith men \vith ,vhom he had nothing in con1mon but
the purpose to kno,vand serve God better, is specially
dwelt upon by his biographer in instances ,,'hich nlust
,vith us provoke a snIile, but in ,vhich the homely or
childish detail is after all but as the dress of the
day, "rhich may disguise or set off the Inan beneath
it. Simple men in that twilight of learning 'vere

II.]

J
/01VASTERY O;'
BEC.

37

struck \vith adlniration at the self-command 5ho\vn by
a teacher, famous for ,vhat others valued, ,vhen he
hUlnbled hilnself before an illiterate Norman abbot,
saint as he seelned to be; or when he patiently took
the conceited and ignorant rebuke of not so saintly
a Prior. " You might see," says the biographer of
Lanfranc, "a godly rivalry bet\veen H erhvin and
Lanfranc. The abbot, a lately made clerk, \vho
had gro,vn old as a layman, regarded ,vith a\ve the
eminence of such a teacher plàced under hiln. Lan-
franc, not puffed up by his great kno,vledge, \vas
hUlnbly obedient in all things, observed, admired, bore
,vitness to the grace ,vhich God had granted H erhvin
in understanding the Scriptures. '\Vhen I listen to
that layman,' he used to say (layman, I suppose, in
the sense of one not brought up to letters), , I kno\v
not ,vhat to say, but that" the' Spirit breatheth ,vhere
it ,vill." , "
He relnained three years in retirement, giving an
example of nlonastic subordination and humility.
" lIe ,vould not, as it is said, read a lesson in church
unless the cantor had first heard him read it. One
day ,vhen he '\"as reading at table, he pronounced a
,yord as it ought to be pronounced, but not as seemed
right to the person presiding, ,vho bade:" him say it
differently; as if he had said docëre, ,vith the middle
sy Hable long, as is right, and the other had cor-
rected it into doâ'-(rc, ,vith the middle short, which is
"Tong: for that Prior ,vas not a scholar. But the ,vise
man, kno,ving that he o,ved obedience rather to Christ
than to Donatus the gralnmarian, gave up his pro-
nunciation, and said \"hat he ,vas ,vrongly to]d to
say; for to make a short syllable long, or a long one

3 8

FOUNDA TION OF THE

[CHAP.

short, he kne\v to be no deadly sin; but not to obey
one set over him on God's behalf was no light trans-

. "
gresslon.
Again, they tell a story of Lanfranc being met
travelling to an outlying house of the abbey, carrying
a cat tied up in a cloth behind him on his saddle, "to
keep down the fury of the n1Îce and rats" \vhich in-
fested the
lace. \Vhat they mean is the same thing
as people rncan no\v, \vhen they talk of a bishop
g0ing on foot carryiIJ.g his carpet-bag, or a duke
travelling in a third-class carriage; but the mag-
niloquent and clumsy Latin in \vhich the story is
told gives it an indescribable absurdity of colour, and
\ve forget that after all it is an instance, proportionate
to the day, of that plainness. and simplicity of de-
mean our \vhich is a common quality \"here men's
hearts are really great.
But Lanfranc \vas not to remain in this unnatural
obscurity. Gradually, it is not said hô\\p, Bec becan1e a
school, became famous, became the resort of young
men thirsting for instruction, not only in Normandy,
but in the countries round it. It is not easy for us to
understand ho,v, in those difficult and dangerous days,
communication \vas so extensive, and news travelled so
widely, and the character of a house of lnonks and its
teacher in the depths of N ornlandy produced such an
impression in Europe, as \vas in fact the case. The stylc
of the tinle \vas exaggerated; but exaggeration ,vas
of things that \vere really great; and it is impossible to
doubt that during the tin1e that Lanfranc taught at
Bec (1045-1063 ?) he established a name as a refor-
mer of life and a restorer of learning, \vhich Inadc him
seeln to the IT1Cn of his time, at least in the \ Vest, as

II.]

1JfOl'lASTER Y OF BEC.

39

,vithout an equal; he ,vas to them all that later times
have seen in their great refonners and great men of
letters. He brought to Bee the secular learning ,vhich
\vas possible then; he learned there divine knowledge;
and for both, he infused an ardour ,,,hich ,vas almost
enthusiasn1 in those under his influence. It \vould be
interesting if ,ve kne\v something n10re of his method
of study and teaching; but, as usual, such details ,vere
not thought \vorth preserving by those to \\Thom they
\vere matters of every day. vVe have little more than
generalities. Latinist (perhaps ,,,ith some kno\vledge
of Greek) and dialectician, he taught his scholars the
best that could then be taught, in rousing thought, in
making it exact and clear, and in expressing it fitly
and accurately. It is not improbable that his old
kno\vledge of jurisprudence \vas turned to account in
his lecturing at Bee. As a theologian, he ,vas espe-
cially a student of St. Paul's Epistles. The only
divinity kno\vn åt the time in the \Vest \vas contained
in the \vorks of the great Latin Fathers; and of this
he ,vas master, and his use of it gave a ne\v impulse
to the study of it-a study ,,,hich ,vas to produce
results of vast importance both to religion and to
philosophy. The value \vhich restorers of learning
like Lanfranc set on the Latin Fathers led their suc-
cessors step by step to raise up the great fabric, so
mingled of iron and clay, of the scholastic systems.
Lanfranc, as may be supposed, had a battle to fight
to establish his footing in such a comn1unityas he \vould
find round Herhvin. Herhvin, \vith the nobleness and
simplicity of a superior nature, recognized the differ-
ence bet\veen himself and Lanfranc, and sa\v, \vithout
grudging or jealousy, that in all matters of mind,

_o

,
FOUNDA TION OF THE

[ CHAP.

Lanfranc must be supreme; and he left to Lanfranc
the internal government of the house, while he hin1self
looked after its affairs, and guarded it in the la\v courts
by his intimate kno\vledge of Norman customs. But
the brethren \vhom Lanfranc had found there "\vere
not very \velliettered, nor much trained in religion :"
and IC seeing their idleness, the fro\vardness of their
\vays, their transgressions of the Rule, and the jealousy
of some, \vho feared that he \vould be put over them"
-a curious contrast this to the picture elsc\vhere given
of the devotion of Herhvin's first companions-Lan-
franc lost heart, and meditated a second retreat; a
retreat from Bec, into SOlne hermitage in the \vilderness.
But he \vas stopped-as uSLla1, it is said by a vision;
and Lanfranc entered on his office as Prior, about
1045. From this time, till he "ras appointed Abbot of
Duke \Villiam's n10nastery of St. Stephen at Caen,
Lanfranc \vas busy, \vith some intervals of other im-
portant \vork, filling \vhat \ve should call the place of a
great professor at Bec. Gradually, as his name becalne
attached to it, its nUlnbers s\velled-its numbers of
monks, and also of students not members of the
house. Gifts poured in upon it ; for the age "ras an
open-handed one, as ready to give as to take a\vay,
and friends and patrons among the lords of N ornlandy
and the conquerors of England endo\\red the house
,vith churches, tithes, manors, on both sides of the
Channel. A saying arose \vhich is not yet out of
nlen's mouths in France:

"De quelque part que Ie vent vente
L'abb:tye du Bee a rente."
(" Let the wind blow from where the wincI wi1l

From the lands of Bee it bloweth still.")

n.]

ltfOJ\'ASTERY OF BEC.

1 1

All this had conle to pass in the lifetime of Herhvin ;
and all this had conlC \vith Lanfranc. His pupils
\vere nunlerous, and 111any of them \vere fa n1oùs; I in
their generation: an10ng these \'"as one, an Italian like
hin1self, \vho becalne Pope Alexander II. (r06I-
10 73). But the greatest glory of Lanfranc and the
school of Bec 'vas to have trained the Italian Anselm
to quicken the thoughts and ,vin the love of N onnans
and Englishn1en.
\Vith Lanfranc's position outside of Bec \ve have
here no concern. The great Norman ruler, ,,,hose
mind \vas so full of great thoughts both in Church and
State, and \vhose hand ,vas to be so heavy on those
,,,horn he ruled and conquered, soon found hin1 out,
and discovered that in Lanfranc he had 11let a kindred
soul and a fit cOlnpanion in his great enterprise of
governing and reducing to order the \,'ild elements of
his age. Lanfranc, scholar, theologian, stateslnan, and
perhaps also, and not least, Italian, \vas employed on
more than one cOlnmission at the court of R0111e,
\vhich was then rising into ne\v importance and
po\ver, under the inspiration of the tnaster-spirit of
Hildebrand. He n1ingled in the controversial disputes,
,vhich ,vere once more beginning as the tin1e became
influenced by ne\v learning and ne\v zeal; and he \vas
reputed to have silenced and confounded Berengar,
both by "yord of mouth and by his pen. But all this
lay \vithout his ,,"ark as the Prior of Bec-its creator
as a school, its director as a teacher; and it is only
in this respect that he is here spoken o(
The glory and influence of Bec ,vere great, but they
declined as rapidly as they had risen. They depended
on the ilnpulse given by great characters; and ,,'hen

4 2

THE il1DNASTERY OF BEC.

[CHAP. II.

these passed a\vay, the society ,vhich they had ani-
mated gradually sank to the ordinary level. Bee
continued a great foundation: in time it becan1
one
of the rich and dignified preferments of the Church
of France. In the 16th century the abbacy ,vas held
by great ari
tocratic bishops and cardinals, Dunois, Le
Veneur, D' Annebaut, Guise; in the 17th by a Colbert,
a Rochefouc lult, and a Bourbon Condé. But the "irony
of fate" had something more in store. The last
abbot of Bec, of the house founded by Herhvin,.
and made glorious by Lanfranc and Anselm, ,vas
1\1. de T alleyrand. 1

1 :Émile Saisset, Ï\lélanges, p. 8.

CHAPTER III.

DISCIPLl
E OF A I\OR
IAX :\IOX_\STERY.

" And what are things eternal? powers dep
rt,
Possessions vanish, and opinions change,
And passions hold a fluctuating seat;
But by the storms of circumstance unshaken,
And subject neither to eclipse nor wane,
Duty exists ;-immutabIy survive,
For Ollr support, the measures and the fonns
\Yhich an abstract intelligence supplies;
\Yhose kingdom is, where time and space are not."
\VORDS\YORTH, Excursion, b. iv.

THE order of life at Bec ,vas modelled according to
the strict discipline of the Benedictine order. To
enter fairly into its spirit and into the meaning of
many of its minute and technical regulations, it has
to be remelnbered that in those ages there ,vas little
trust in individual self-management; and it ",.as a
fundamental assumption that there ,vas no living an
earnest Christian life ,yithout a jealous and pervading
system of control and rule. Civil life, as ,ve kno\v
it, hardly existed: all that ,vas po\verful, all that ".as
honoured, ,yas connected ,vith ".ar; the ideas of the
time more or less insensibly took a n1Ïlitary colour;
men's calling and necessity \vere in one ,vay or another
to fight; and to fight evil ,vith effect needed com-
bination, endurance, and practice. The governing

4.1.

DISCIPLINE OF

[CHAP.

thought of monastic life \vas that it ,vas a \varfare,
ulililia, and a monastery ,vas a earn p or barrack: there
,vas continual drill and exercise, early hours, fixed
tin1es, appointed tasks, hard fare, stern punishment;
,vatchfulness was to be incessant, obedience prompt
and absolute; no man \vas tø have a \vill of his own,
no man ,vas to tnurmur. \Vhat seems to us trifling
or vexatious must be judged of and ,allo\ved for by
reference to the idea of the system ;-training as
rigorous, concert as ready and complete, subordination
as fixed, fulfilment of orders as unquestioning as in
a regiment or ship's cre\v \vhich is to do good service.
Nothing ,vas more easy in those days to understand
in any lnan, next to his being a soldier, than his being
a 1110nk; it was the same thing, the same sort of life,
but \vith different objects. Nothing, from our altered
conditions of society, is 'more difficult in ours.
The life and discipline of a Norman monastery of the
revived and reformed sort, such as Bee, are put before
us in the regulations drawn up by Lanfranc, ,vhen Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, for the English monasteries
under his government. They are based of course on the
rule of St. Benedict; but they are varied and adapted
according to the judgn1ent of the great monastic re-
former, and represent no doubt in a great n1easure the
system carried on at Bee, under which he and then An-
selm haà lived and ,vorked. They are of course as
minute and pcren1ptory as the orders of a book of drill ;
but \vhat is more remarkable is the recognition in them
of the possible desirableness of moàifications in their
use. There is nothing of stiff blind clinging to mere
usage, no superstitious jealousy of alterations, in the
spirit in ,vhich they are dra\vn up and imposed. I....an-

III.]

A .l\'ORJ.iIAN .fifOi\TASTER J

45

franc [!reat n1an as he ,vas, kne\v that it \vas idle a
1d
, '-

foolish to lay do\yn fixed la\vs, even for monasteries,
\vithout nlaking provision and al1o,vance for the
necessities of different circumstances and the changes
of the future. It \Ve send you," he says, addressing
Henry the Prior of the Cathedral monastery at
Canterbury, " the \vritten customs of our order,
'which \ve have selected fron1 the customs of those
houses ,vhich, Ín our day, are of highest authority in
the monastic rule. In these \ve Inean not to tie do\vn
either ourselves \vho are here, or those ,\'ho are to
con1e after us, from adding or taking away, or in any
,vay changing, if, either by the teaching of reason or
by the authority of those ,,,ho kno\v better, anything
is seen to be an Í1nprovement. F 0); be a nlan as far
advanced as he n1ay, he can have no greater fault than
to think that he can in1prove no further; for changes
in the numbers of the brethren, local conditions, dif-
ferences of cirCUlTIstances, \vhich are frequent, varieties
of opinions, some understanding things in this \vay
and others in that \vay, make it necessary for the
1110st part that things \"hich have been long observed
should be differently arranged: hence it is that no
Church scarcely can in all things follo\v any other.
But \vhat is to be n10st carefully attended to is,
that the things \vithout ,vhich the soul cannot be saved
should be maintained inviolate; I n1ean faith, con-
tempt of the world, charity, purity, humility, patience,
obedience, sorro\v for faults con1mitted, and their
humble confession, frequent prayers, fitting silence,
and such like. Where these are preserved, there most
rightly may the rule of St. Benedict and the order
of the monastic life be said to be kept, in \vhatever

4 6

EISCIPLLYE OF

[ CHAP.

"Tay other things vary, as they are appointed according
to different Incn's judgment in different n10nasteries."
And he proceeds to enumerate instances of variety
of usage-very small onès, it must be confessed, and
somewhat in contrast to the breadth of the general
principles laid do,vn: \vhether on certain occasions
the leaders of the choir should chant certain parts of
the service in their tunics, or as they call them "frocks,"
or in albs aad copes; ,vhether albs alone should be.
used, or, as else\vhere, copes as \\Tell; or ,vhether,
on J\1aundy Thursday, the feet-\vashing should be by
t,venties or thirties in a common trough, or each one
singly in a basin by himself. But the contrast
bet\veen general principles and their applications,
between the major propositions of our practical reason-
ings and their minors, is not peculiar to Lanfrallc's age.
1'he n1Ïnors are ahvays the difficulty, and s0111etimes
they are as strange and unaccountable ones for our-
selves as any \vere then. But it is not ahvays that
\ve give Lanfranc's age credit for ackno\\rlcdging the
principle itself, or for stating it so \vell.
For the objects in vie,v, the organization ,vas sinlple
and reasonable. The buildin
s \\
ere constructed, the
day \vas arranged, the staff of officers ,vas appointed,
in reference to the three main purposes for \vhich a
monk professed to live-\vorship, improvement, and
,vork. There ,,,ere three principal places ,vhich ,vere the
scenes of his daily life: the church, and in the church
especially the choir; the chapter-house; and the
cloister; and for each of these the \\rork ,vas carefully
laid out. A monk's life at that period ,vas eminently
a social one: he lived night and day in public; and
the cell seems to have been an occasional retreat, or

III. ]

A l';ORJIAIV flIONASTERY.

47

reserved for th
higher officers. The cloister \vas the
place of business, instruction, reading, and conversa-
tion, the conlmon study, ,vorkshop, q.nd parlour of all
the inmates of the house-the professed brethren; the
young men \vhom they \vere teaching or preparing for
life, either as monks or in the \vorld ; the children (ill-
falltes) \vho formed the school attached to the house,
many of ,vhom had been dedicated by their parents to
this kind of service. In this cloister, open apparently
to the ,veather but under shelter, all sat, ,vhen they ,vere
not at service in church, or asselnbled in the chapter,
or at their meals in the refectory, or resting in the
dormitory for their mid-day sleep; all teaching, read-
ing, ,vriting, copying, or any handicraft in ,vhich a
monk might employ himself, ,vent on here. Here the
children learned their letters, or read ar
oud, or prac-
tised their singing under their masters; and here,
"when the regular and fixed arrangements of the day
allo,ved it, conversation ,vas carried on. A cloister of
this kind ,,,as the lecture-room ,vhere Lanfranc taught
U grammar," gave to Norman pupils elementary no-
tions of ,\That an Italian of that age sa,v in Virgil
and St. Augustin, and perhaps expounded St. Paul's
Epistles: 'v here Ansehn, among other pupils, caught
from hin1 the enthusiasm of literature; ,vhere, \vhen
Lanfranc ,vas gone, his pupil carl ied on his master's
,york as a teacher, and ,vhere he discussed ,vith sympa-
thising and inquisitive minds the great problems ,yhich
had begun to open on his mind. In a cloister like this
the l1e,vs, the gossip of the ,,,orId and of the neigh-
bourhood ,vas collected and conlmunicated: rumours
,
guesses, and stories of the day, the strange fortunes of
kings and kingdoms, ,,,ere reported, comnlented on,

48

DISCIPLINE OF

[CHAP.

picturesquely dressed up and made n1atter of solemn
morals or of grotesque jokes, as they might be no\v
in clubs and ne\vspapers. Here \vent on the literary
'\vork of the time; here,-\vith infinite and patient toil,
the ren1ains of classical and patristic learning \vere
copied, corrected, sometimes corrupted, ornan1ented;
here, and here alm.ost alone, \vere the chronicles and
records kept year by year, so scanty, often so imper-
fect and untrust\vorthy, yet on the \vhole so precious,
by ,,'hich \\'e know the men and their doings \\'ho
turned and governed the course of English and Euro-
pean history; here too, \vhen the true chronicles did
not speak as people \vished, or did not tell enough,
\vcre false ones invented and forged. This open-air,
sedentary life \vas a hard one; it "'as \vell enough
\vhen the \\'eather \vas fine and \varm, but even
monks, though they ,vere trained to endure hard-
ness, found their fingers nipped by the frost, and had
to give over their ,york ,vhen the \vinter came round.
The indefatigable story-teller Orderic,-like Eadmer,
an Englishn1an, at least by birth, ,vith. a Norman
training,-,,'ho has preserved for us such a profusion
of curious touches of his tilne, and \vho is so severe
on the negligence of his breth
'en in not comn1itting to
\vriting \vhat they kne\v of the remarkable events
around them, ,vas obliged to confess the numbing
effects of "'inter, and to put by his \\rriting to a more
genial season. He breaks off in his account of the
quarrels bet\\'een the sons of \Villialn, and lays aside
his fourth book for the \vinter \vith this reason for

he interruption:
"l\lany disasters are impending over mankind,
\vhich, if they should all be written, \vould fill huge

III.

,
.
.

' S I

'
. . .... .')'h
L

-'
A NORlJIAiV .JIOiVASTER J":

49

volumes. No\v, stiffened \vith the \vinter cold, I
shall employ myself in other occupations, and, very
\veary, I propose to finish this present book. But
\vhen the fine \veather of the calm spring returns, I
\vill take up again \vhat I have imperfectly related, or
\vhat yet remains unsaid, and, by God's help, I \vill
fully unfold \vith a truthful pen the chances of war
and peace ainong our countrymen."
I n another place he gives the saIne reason for the
abridged narrative \vhich he inserts of a certain St.
\ Villiam 7-vitlt tlte Short-110SC, \vhose life, in the hands of
a pious chaplain, interested and edified the fierce re-
tainers of one of the fiercest of the Conqueror's barons,
H ugh the \ V olf, Earl of Chester. "The story is not
often found," he says, " in this province, and a truthful
narrative may be acceptable to S0111e. It was brought
to us recently by Antony, a monk of \Vinchestcr; \Vc
\vere thirsting to see it, and he showed it to us. There
is a ballad about it comn10nly sung by the n1instrels ;
but the authentic narrative is much to be preferred,
\
lhich has been carefully dra\vn up by religious
teachers, and reverently recited by serious readers in
the common hearing of the brethren. But because
the bearer of it \vas in a hurry to go, and the winter
frost hindered me from \vriting, I noted down a brief
but faithful abridgment of it in my tablets, \vhich
I \vill no\v endeavour to con1n1it succinctly to my
parchn1ent."
Certain religious services, but services having refer-
ence to those outside the monastery, had their place
in the cloister. Thus it \vas there, that on l\Iaundy
Thursday, the Dies llIa1ldati, the abbot and his bre-
thren fulfilled the old custom, and, as they considered
s. L. X. E

50

DISCIPLINE OF

[CHAP.

it, the commandment of the Gospel, by \vashing the
feet of the poor after they \vashed one another's feet.
The ceremony is thus ordered by Lanfranc: "\Vhile
this is going on, the èellarer, and the almoner, and
others to \vhom it is enjoined, are to bring the poor
men into the cloister, and make them sit in order one
by another. Before they come into the cloister they
are to \vash their feet ,vith common ,vater supplied to
them by the chamberlains. Everything is to be pre-
pared in its proper place, necessary for performing
"the commandment' (1JlalldatuJJz, St. John xiii. 14, 15) ;
as \varm \vater in fitting vessels, to,vels for the feet,
napkins for the hands, cups and drink and such like;
and the chamberlain's servants are to be ready to do
\vhat is ,vantcd. Then ,vhen these things are in order,
the abbot shall rise, and the rest of the brethren
rising shall make their due obeisance, and, passing
forth from the refectory, the children shall go aside
into their school ,vith their masters and stand \vith
them before their poor men; and the rest of the bre-
thren shall likewise come and stand before their poor
men, each one according to his order before one of
them; but the abbot shalJ have t,vo. Then the prior,
at the abbot's command, shall strike the board \vith
three blo,vs, and bowing do,vn on their bent knees to
the earth, they shall worship Christ in the poor." Then
the abbot is to ,vash and wipe the feet of the poor men
before him, "kissing them ,vith his mouth and his eyes,"
and so the rest of the brethren; then he is to minister
a cup of drink to them; and at the signal given by the
prior, by knocking three tin1es on his board, the other
brethren are in like manner each of them to give a cup
of drink to the poor man before him, and receiving back

III.]

..,1 NORi
IAN AfO.VASTERJI:

51

the cup, to put in his hand t\vopence, or whatever
money the abbot may have ordered. "The brethren
also \vho have died in the course of the year are to
have each their own poor for the fulfilment of 'the
commandment,' and also those friends of the house for
\vhom the abbot shall order poor men to be set for
this' commandn1ent.' " Then, \vÌ1en all is over, they
kneel down and say some versicles and a collect
having reference to the con1mandment and example
\vhich have given occasion to the cereillony, and then
proceed to the church chanting the .JIiserere Psaln1 (Ii.).
The 1Jzalldatullt is then to be fulfilled by the brethren
to one another, but in the chapter-house; and after
the feet-,vashing, a cup of drink, the" loving-cup," the
potus cllaritatis, or the cllaritas, as it ,vas technically
called, \vas distributed. And it enjoined on the abbot
that he should, if he ,yere able to do so, by himself
,vash the feet of all his brethren on this day; "for,
according to St. Benedict's \vitness, he bears the
part of Christ in the monastery, and especially in this
. "
serVIce.
The cloister ,vas the place of ordinary life and ,york.
The chapter-house ,vas the council chanlber of the
monastery. The ,yord chapter (caþitubtJll) denoted
both the roon1 of assembly and thp assembly itself.
It \\'as the place of business for the ,vhole commu-
nity; and for its members, it ,vas the place for mutual
instruction, for hearing advice, maintaining discipline,
making complaints, confessing faults, passing judg-
ment, accepting punishn1ent. Every morning, in
ordinary seasons, after the prayers of the third hour
and the morning n1ass, the comnlunity "held a
chapter." A bell rang, and all the brethren, \vhatever
E 2

S2

DISCIPLl1VE OF

[ CHAP.

they \vere doing, gathered in the choir, and proceeded
to the chapter-house.
(, Every day," says .Lanfranc's order, (I as soon as
the sound of the little bell begins for the chapter,
all the brethren \vho are sitting in the choir are at
once to rise, and mean\vhile to stand facing to the
east; the brethren also, \vho are elsewhere in the
minster, are to come into the choir. No one is to
hold a book; no one is to be reading anything, or to
look into a book; no one is to remain sitting in the
cloister on any pretext \vhatever; and \vhen the bell
stops, \vith the prior going before them, the rest are to
follo\v in the order of their conversion, t\VO and t\VO,
the e]ders first, the children (Ùifantcs) after them."
The children, too, "held their separate chapter/'
under their masters, \vhere all n1atters of disciplin

\vere looked after. The brethren having taken their
seats on the steps round the \vaIl, the business began
by readings and by addresses. Portions of the rule of
St. Benedict \vere read; and then \vas the tin1e ,,"hen
the monks received general instruction on religion and
their special duties. Scripture \vas eXplained and dis-
courses made, more in the \vay of fan1iliar exposition
than of set sern10ns. \Vhen a stranger of note
ha ppened to be in the monastery, he \yould be asked
to say something in chapter to the brethren; and
\vhat \ve have of Anselm's homilies, so far as they are
genuine, seem to be short sermons of this kind to
lllonks in chapter, such as \ve read of his addressing
to them in his visits to different monasteries in Nor-
mandy and England. \Vhen this ,york of instruction
and general counsel \\Tas done, which of course varied
much, the daily inquiry about discipline began, \vith

IlL]

A
\TORJIAN .J
IOiYASTERr.

53

th
fornlula, II Let us speak touching our order;"
(loqua1Jzuy de ordÙle 1lostro.) This \vas the time for
the daily reports, and for complaints that \vere
to be made of personal failure of duty. Anyone, it
,vould seem, might conlplain of any fault that he had
observed; and the course of proceeding is character-
istic of the stern ideas under which the monastic life
gre,v up and ,vas passed.
"\Vhen the \vords are said, 'LoqualJlltY de ordz"1Ze
llostro,' if anyone is accused (cla1Jlatur, the technical
\vord) ,vho has a name common ,vith another or with
several, then unless the accuser (clanzaus) makes it so
clear \vho is nleant that there can be no doubt, all
\\'ho are of the sanle name are to stand up at once,
and humbly present themselves to ask pardon, until
the accuser (cla1Jlator) distinctly points out of "Thorn
he speaks; and this indication should be, if pos-
sible, by the person's order or his office, as D01JZ111/S
Eduardus, priest, deacon, or secretary, 1Jzastcr of the
c/zildrell, &c., and not 'arc/ldeacoll,' or 'of Londo1l,'
or from any surnanle of the \\'0 rl d. The accuser
(cla11zator) is not to do judgment on him ,vhom he
.accuses in the same chapter. The accused, \vho is
prostrate, being asked in the customary \vay. is at
each asking of pardon to say 1JlCa culpa. . . If he is to
receive judgment, he is to be beaten ,vith one larger
rod on his shirt, as he lies prostrate, or \vith several
thinner rods as he sits ,vith his body bare, at the
discretion of him "rho presides, according to the
character and magnitude of his fault. While cor-
poral discipline is inflicted, all the brethren are to
hold their heads do,vn, and to have compassion \vith
l1Ïnl ,vith tcnder and brotherly affection. During this

54

DISCIPLli\TE OF

[CHAP.

time in the chapter, no one ought to speak, no one
ought to look at hinl, except grave persons to \vhom
it is allowed to intercede for him. The accused may
not make a complaint of his accuser in the same
chapter. The discipline is to be inflicted by \\Thoever
is comlnanded to do it by the abbot or prior; so that
this be never commanded to the children, or the young
men, or the novices. Noone is to speak in secret to
one or more; ,vhatever is said must be said so as to be
heard by the person presiding and the ,vhole assembly.
All speaking must be about things useful, and things
that pertain to the order. vVhen one is speaking, all
others are to be silent; no one is to interrupt the
speaker's \\rords but the person presiding, ,vho may
command the speaker to be silent, if ,,,hat is said
seem to him irrelevant or unprofitable. \Vhen the
president of the assembly begins to speak, anyone
else ,,'ho is speaking must stop, and perfect silence be
observed by al1." This discipline of scourging ,,'as
undergone, as one of the ordinary ,vays of sho\ving sor-
ro,v for having done '''rong. It ,vas submitted to in so
Inatter-of-course a fashion by kings and great men,
that Anselm in one of hi
letters lays do,vn a dis-
tinction bet\veen the monastic scourging inflicted by
the judgment of the chapter, and the self-imposed
chastisement, ,vhich, he says, kings and proud rich
men comnland to be inflicted on themselves, and to
,vhich he gives a special name, 'regale J.udiciuJ11, the
, 1 . d "
'roya JU gment.
The punishment a,varded in chapter might go
beyond this. A brother "adjudged to the satisfaction
of a light fault" (the expression appears as technical
as "being under arrest") ,vas separated from the rest

I II. ]

A NORfifAN lJl0NASTERY:

5S

of his brethren in the refectory, and sat last of all
in choir, and he ,vas forbidden to take certain parts in
the divine service. One who, after examination be-
fore the abbot, ,vas, by the common sentence of the
brethren, "ordered to be in the satisfaction of a grave
fault," besides the severe corporal chastisement inflicted
in chapter, ,vas also adjudged to so1itary confinement
under the custody of one of the brethren. He was
only seen by the rest prostrate, and 'with his head
covered; and ,vhen he received pardon, after coming
into the chapter, and confessing his fault and asking
for mercy, "being ordered to rise, he shall yet
frequently prostrate himself, and say again the same
or like \vords, ceasing ,vhen the abbot says to him
, it is enough;' and then he shall be commanded to
strip, and to submit to the judglnent of corporal disci-
pline." Only then ,vas he restored. For rebellious
contun1acy and resistance to the sentence of the
chapter, there ,vas sterner dealing. "Such a person,
the brethren ,vho \vere present 'were to arise and
violentl y seize, and drag him or else bear him to the
prison appointed for such arrogant persons, and being
there confined, he \vas, ,vith due discretion, to be
afflicted, until he had laid aside his haughty temper
and o,vned his fault, and humbly promised amend-
ment." Expulsion ,vas the last penalty. The run-
a,vay monk \vas not refused a return, but he ,vas
received \vith the tokens of ignominy upon him,
befitting a deserter. He came to sue for pardon,
tarrying his forsaken n10nastic dress on one arm, and
in the other hand a bundle of rods. All these judg-
ments and vindications of discipline took place in the
chapter, in the presence of the \vhole community, and

56

DISCIPLJiVE OJ.'

[ CHAP.

under the sanction of the ,vhole. In the same \,pay,
discipline ,,,as adlninistered anlong the children \vho
formed the school of.. the monastery. They had
their special chapter, in \vhich they received their
punishments; "ill capitulo SliO vaplllellt," is the concise
order, "sicltt 1Jlajores -ill 1Jlajorc capitlllo,"-"let them
be whipped in their o\vn chapter, as the elders in the
older chaptt.;:."
In the chapter, all adn1Ïssions ,vere nlade of
novices, of professing monks, and of strangers ,vho
\vere received into the society and H confraternity"
of the house. .The novice, on his petition to be
received, was ,yarned of the seriousness of \vhat he
was undertaking. "Let there be declared to hiln the
hard and stern things \vhich in this order they endure.
\vho wish to live piously and
ccording to the rule;
and then, again, the yet harder and sterner things
\vhich may befall hinl, if he behaves himself unrulily.
Which things having heard, if h
still persists in his
purpose, and promises that he is prepared to bear
yet harder and harsher things, let the president of the
chapter say to him: ' Tht;" Lord Jeslts Christ so jJer-
for1l1 Ùl )'Olt 'Lvhat for J-Jis 10'i.Jc's sake )'Olt pro1Jlisc, that
you 1Jlay Ila'LJC J-Jis grace aíld life eternal/and all
answering, 'A 1Jlell,' he shall add, 'And we for His
love's sake by tltis gra1lt to )'Olt what so hll1Jlbly alld
so cOllstantly you pro1Jlise.' " The rule of the order,
according to the common practice, \vas to be read
to him, with the form of \yarning: "II ere is the Ia\v
under \vhich you desire to serve; if you can keep it,
enter in; but if you cannot, freely depart." (l!,'cce lez
sub qua utilitare vis: si pott"S obser'Z'arc, iJlgredere,o si
'iJcro 1101l potes, libcrc disccde.) The novice "pas kept

III.]

A 1\70RJfAiV i1fOJ.YASTERY.

57

apart, only associating ,vith his master, or
p
aking
\vith such of the brethren as n1Ïght be inflanled ,vith
zeal for his improvement. He ".as fully subject to
the discipline of the monastery, and received his judg-
ment and stripes in chapter like the rest. If," after
certain days," he persisted, he ,vas again ,varned
and told of the hard and heavy things ,,,hich ,vere
appointed by the holy fathers for this order of life;
and then, if he undertook to bear them humbly and
patiently, and yet harder and heavier things still, he
,vas received, and made his profession. H is profession
,vas made in ,,"riting; the "cantor" ,vas to provide
parchnlent and ink (1l1Clllbrana1Jl ct CllCalfstUJll), and a
,,-riter, if the novice could not \\-rite. In this case the
novice ,vas to sign his profession ,vith the nlark of the
cross; but he ,vas to ,,,rite it out hinlself, if he could;
.and then at the mass to read it aloud and lay it on the
altar. For three days from his reception and "bene-
diction" he is to observe absolute silence; the co\vl
,yith ,vhich the abbot covers his head is not to be re-
nloved, and he is to sleep in it; and each day he is to
receive the communion. 'Then in chapter his !l1aster
is to ask leave for hill) to read and to sing as the rest
of the brethren; and the abbot grants it \vith the "Fords,
" Let hin1 do so with the blessing of God." A strange
nlonk asking "confraternity" is to be led into the
chapter, and the abbot is to ask him, as he prostrates
himself, ,vhat he has to say. I-Ie is to ans\\rer: "I ask,
by the 1/1Crcy of God, your fellowship and that of all
thcse eldcrs, alld the bC1lcjit of this 1JlOnastery /' and
the abbot to ans,ver, {o The Almighty Lord grant you
\vhat you seek, and Himself give you the fello\vship
of His elect;" H and then being bidden to rise, he

.

58

DISCIPLllVE OF

[CHAP.

receives from him) by the emblematic delivery to him
of the book of rules, the fellowship of the monastery."
Among the various things to be done in the cha pter-
house, one is \vorth noticing. On the first Monday in
Lent every year, there \vas to be a general restoring
and changing of books. "Before the brethren come
into chapter, the keeper of the books is to have the
books collected in the chapter-house, and spread on
a carpet, except those \vhich have been given out
for use during the past year. These last, the brethren
cOIning into chapter are to bring \vith them, each one
having his book in his hand, of \vhich they ought to
have had notice from the keeper of the books in the
chapter of the day before. The rule of 51. Benedict
about the observance of Lent is to be read. Then,
\vhen there has been a discourse out of it, the keeper
of the books is to read a note (breve) as to ho\v the
brethren have had books in the last year. As each
one hears his name mentioned, he is to return the
\vork \vhich \vas given him to read the last year. And
he \vho is a\vare that he has not read through the
book ,yhich he received, is to prostrate himself and
declare his fault and ask indulgence. Then again the
keeper of the books is to give to each of the brethren
another book to read, and \vhen the books have been
distributed in order, the keeper is to record in a note
(Í1Jlbreviet) the names of the books, and of those \vho
have received them."
The daily service in the church took the first place,
and governed all the other arrangen1ents. Lanfranc's
regulations go \vith much detail into the order to be
observed for the day's prayers at each season of the
ecclesiastical year, for the special ceremonies at thE

III. ]

A lVORJIAN lIIOl'lASTER Y.

59

chief solemnities and festivals, and for the various
rites and grades of the divine service. They con-
tain an elaborate directory, following 'what had
become by this time the ordinary course of com-
mon prayer and the fixed cycle of holy times in
the Latin Church; its order exhibits a general agree-
ment ,vith that \vhich is still represented in the bre-
viaries; but this order \\.as not then stereotyped in
the degree in \yhich it graduaily became fixed, in the
usages of the \Vestern Church before the Reformation;
and Lanfranc, in this matter as in others, exercises
his discretion in his arrangements. The divisions
of the year are appointed, and marked by various
changes in the order of pïayer and living. The festivals
of different classes, to be kept in the monastery, are
enumerated. The rules, as \ve have then1, \vere meant
by Lanfranc for English 111onasteries; and the only
festivals of more recent saints \vhich he admits into
his second class, containing days \vhich come belo,v the
highest feasts, days connected \vith events of the Gospel
history lil
e the Epiphany, the Annunciation, and the
Ascension,and ,vith the memory of St.John the Baptist,
St. Peter, and St. Paul, and of All Saints,-are, ,vith
the exception of that commemorative of the great
monastic patriarch St. Benedict, days in honour
of three persons in ,vhom Englishmen \vouid feel
special interest: St. Gregory, "because he is the
apostle of our, that is, of the English nation;" St.
Augustin, "the Archbishop of the English;" and
St. Alfege the martyr-Ælfheah, the .A.rchbishop of
Canterbury, slain by the heathen Danes, ,vhose clainl
'to a high place among martyred saints, thus elnpha-
tically admitted, \vas the subject, as ,ye shall find, of

60

DISCIPLIl\TE OF

[ cn AP.

a remarkable conversation bet\veen Lanfranc and
Anselm; and the place \vhich he fills in Lanfranc's
m()nastic calendar ,vas the effect of that conversation.
It is ,vorth nlentioning that the holy days enlunerated
are comparatively fe\v: besides the names just men-
tioned, and those of Scripture personages, the only
names found are St. Vincent, St. La,,"rence, St.
Augustin of I-lippo, and St. 1\Iartin.
The course of an ordinary day is thus laid out
for the autun1n season. 'fhe cOlnn1unity rose for
matins, ,vhich ,,'ere sung at night, and then returned
to their beds; as the day began to da \\'n, a small
bell gave the signal, and they rose, and, in the
dress in ,vhich they slept, sang the ser,'ice for the
first hour, ,,,ith the penitential Psalms and Litanies,
and then passed into the cloister, ,,,here they sat
at their various occupations. The children ,,'cre
employed reading aloud or singing. At the bell
\vhich sounded for the third hour, they ,vent to the
dormitory and dressed themsclves for the day; then
they ,,'ent to the lavatory and ,\'ashed and combed
their hair; and proceeding to the church remained
bo,ving do\vn to the ground, till the children ,vere ready
and joined then1. Then the third hour service \vas
performed and the morning mass. \Vhen it ,vas over,
the \vhole community gathered in the choir, and pro-
ceeded Ì\vo and t\vo to the chapter-house; 'v hen the
business there ,vas over, they ,vent into the cloister,
and might talk till the sixth hour, and the nlass \vhich
follo\ved it. T\vice a \veek on the fast days, Wed-
nesday and Friday, there \vas a procession in \vhich
all \valked barefoot round the cloister. In the summer
portion of the year, \vhp.n the days \vere longer, the

I II.]

A NOR.JfAl\" J/O.J.VASTERJ

ÚI

community took a noon-day rest (111cridialla) in the
dorn1Ïtory; it is especially ordered that during the
mid-day rest the children and youths ,vere not to
read or ,vrite or do any ,,,ork in their beds, but to lie
perfectly still. After the mid-day Inass, the brethren
\vere to sit in the choir, and those \vho ,,"ould n1ight
read, tiU the service of the ninth hour. As the tirne
of the great festivals came on, from Advent to \Vhit-
suntide, the religious services became much longer and
took up more tinle. After the ninth hour they \vent to
the refectory, and they might speak in the cloister. On
ordinary days, they "refreshed" themselves twice a
day, after the third hour, and again after the ninth,
except on fast days, ,vhen all, except the children and
the sick, "refreshed" themselves (rcficiullt) only once;
and restrictions as to the quality of the food are
laid do,,-n for the great solemnities. But little is said
about food, compared ,vith the general minuteness of
the directions relating to the ceremonial by \\?hich the
significance and in1portance of each high service ,vas
nlarked. There appears a sternness and severity
running through theIn, such as there nlight be in the
regulations of a nli1itary life, but no privation simply
for privations' sake, at least no pushing of privation
to extravagant excess. The children, the sick, the
,veak, and those 'who, according to the custom of the
time, \vere undergoing their periodical blood-letting,
-an operation \\rhich ,vas done according to rule,
and ,,,ith a religious service,-,vere to be treated
,vith indulgence, and all discretion granted to their
superiors for this end. Rules ,vere laid do\vn about
the time and usage of shaving and '\Tashing; before
the great festivals there ,vas a general bathing, and

62

DISCIPLINE OF

[CHAP.

much of the \vashing is ordered to be ,vith hot
water. The chamberlain, ,vhosc business it ,vas to
provide the dress of the brethren, is ordered also to
provide razors and napkins for shaving; to,vels to
hang in the cloister; he is to provide and repair
glass ,vindo,vs for the dormitory; and once a year
he is to have the hay changed in the beds and the
donnitory cleaned.
The government of the n10nastery ,vas arranged
with good sense and simplicity according to the habits
of the time, and the objects of the institution as a
school of discipline. The various offices 'vere laid
out ,vith the same distinctness and regularity as,
according to an analogy ,vhich has already been
noticed, and ,vhich is continually recurring, in a regi-
ment or a man-of-\\Tar. The abbot ,vas elected by
the community, or by the majority and "better
part." The abbot ,vas often, perhaps more often
than not, chosen from some other n10nastery, ,vhere
he had already gained reputation for learning or
discipline. This ,vas the theory. But in N or-
mandy, in Duke vVilliam's time, the election, at least
in the larger houses, requireu the duke's assent and
confirma tion, if the office ,vas not his direct and sole
appointment; and the abbot received fron1 him the
investiture of the temporalities of the house by the
formal delivery of a pastoral staff. The abbot's
authority was, in idea and in terms, absolute and
never to be questioned. "Let the 'whole order of
the monastery depend on \vhat he thinks fit." His
paralnount position ,vas marked by a strict etiquette,
and all kinds of marks of exceptional honour; all
orders came from him, all pO\\Ter was derived frotn

III.]

A NORil-fAN ...'J-101VASTERY.

63

him; he ,vas the source of pardon and indulgence, and
in his presence all other authority ,vas suspended.
But he ,vas as much subject as the rest to the
regulations and la\vs of his service; and further, he
'\vas controlled and limited directly by ackno,vledged
concurrent rights in the comn1unity, as in admission
of ne,v members, or in the judgment and sentence of
faul ts, and still more J indirectly, by the opinions and
leanings of the body, often an active, and sometimes
a trou bleson1e one, over ,vhich he presided. A monas-
tery exhibited the mixture, so con1mon every\vhere
at the tin1e, of great personal and concentrated po,ver
\vith a great amount of real liberty round it; and the
force of an abbot's rule depended much less on the
despotic supremacy assigned to him by regub.tions
or current ideas than on his o,vn fitness for governing.
Under him, and next to him in office and honour,
\vas the prior (a cc greater prior," and a "prior of
cloister," are specified and distinguished), \vho \vas
the \vorking hand and head in the interior administra-
tion of the house. The servants \vere specially under
his control ; he ,vas to "hold the chapter" for the
judgment of their behaviour, and for the infliction of
necessary punishment. ...t\nd the police of the house
,vas under his special charge; he ,vas to observe
behaviour in choir and in the cloIster, and at stated
tin1es of day and night-by night \vith a dark lantern
(abscoJlsa)-he 'vas to go round the house, the crypt
and aisles of the minster, the cloister, the chapter-
house, the infirmary, and the dormitory, to see that
there \vas no idling or foolish gossip. At night he
,vas to take care that all \vas \velllighted in the house.
In this work of going his rounds, he \vas assisted by

6-1-

DISCIPLI1VE OF

[CHAP.

officers specially appointed for the purpose (cirC1t1Jli-
tores, quos alio 110Jlline circas vocallt), elected from
the more discreet of the brethren, men ,vho ,vould
act \yithout favour or nlalice, \vho from time to time
,vere to pass through the monastery, observing every-
thing, but never speaking till they made their report
in the chapter. " \Vhile they are going their rounds
they ,are to n1ake no sign to anyone; to no one on
any occasion are they to speak, but only \vatchfully
notice all negligence and all offences, and silently
passing by, aftenyards make their conlplaint in
chapter. If they find any of the brethren talking
outside the cloister, one of the speakers is at once to
rise up to them, and say, if it be the case that they
have leave to be talking. The officers of the rounds
are not to ans\ver by ,vord or sign, but quietly passing-
on, to listen carefully whether the talk is unprofitable
and \vhat ought not to be said." All the officc3
and rooms of the house ,vere under their continual
superintendence.
The service of the choir \vas under the charge
of the Call to r. He arranged everything relating
to the reading and singing-. "Everyone," it is
said,-a necessary precaution \vhere reading ,vas
an accomplishment, and right pronunciation more
precarious than even no\v,-" everyone \vho is to
read or sing anything in the nlinster, is bound, if
necessary, before he begins, to listen to the passage
read or sung by the calltor." It \vas his duty to take
care that nothing careless and slovenly \vas done in any
religious service. " If anyone from forgetfulness does
not begin at his proper place in the responses and
antiphon, or goes \vrong in it, the calltor Blust be on

I II.]

A NORJJfAN .JfONASTER.Y:

65

his guard and ready ,yithout delay to begin "That should
be begun, or to set the other right ,vhere he has nlade
a mistake. At his direction the chant is to begin, to
be raised, to be lo\yered : no one is to raise the chant
unless he first begins." 1-1 e is to choose those ,\'ho
are to help him in the choir; he is to sit among them
on the right side of the choir, on \vhich side the sing-
ing is to begin. He also is to have the care of the
books of the monastery. Other officers attended to
the ouhvard or domestic concerns of the house. The
Secretarius or Sacrista had the charge of the church
ornaments, the bells, and the sacred vessels; and it
,,,as hi
business to overlook the making of the" Hosts"
for the l\Iass, \vhich ,vas done ,vith great solemnity.
The Cllal1lberlaÙz \"as charged ,vith everything relating
to the dress of the brethren and the good order of
their rooms. tt He ,vas to have horse-shoes for the
horses of the abbot and prior and their guests, and
to provide the brethren going on a journey \vith
cloaks, leggings, and spurs;" for ,vhose behaviour while
travelling very careful and elaborate rules are given.
The Cellarer looked after the housekeeping. There
is a touch of ,\rarmth in the dry, stern rule, in de-
scribing his office, ,vhich speaks of the feeling \vith
,vhich he \vas looked upon even at Bee. H He ought'
to be the father of the ,vhole congregation; to have
a care both ûf those in health, and also, and especially,
of the sick brethren." On the day on ,vhich the rule
of his office ,vas to be read in chapter, he \vas to take
care that all should be prepared, so that his service
in the refectory to the brethren nlight be done in an
honourable and festive manner: he ,vas solemnly to
ask pardon in chapter for the imperfect manner in
S.L. x. F

(,6

DISCIPLI.iYE OF

[CHAP.

,vhich he had discharged his" obedience," and ,vas to
receive forgiveness for it froln the community; and
then after a recital for hinl of the llIiscrcre Psalm, he
,vas to provide an "honourable refection" for the
brethren. There ,vas a separate house for strangers,
over ,vhich a brother ,vas set ,vho ,vas to provide
eyerything necessary of furniture, firing and food for
their entertdinment. He ,vas to introduce guests and
visitors, and to sho,v the cloister and offices to those
\vho desired to see then1 ; but he \vas to bring no stran-
ger into the cloister ,vhile any of the brotherhood \vas
sitting there, and H no one on any pretence, 1?00ted,
spurred, or bare-footed." There ,,'as an .L 1 hI/oiler,
,vhose business it ,vas to seek out and relie\Te the
poor and the sick; he had t\VO servants to attend
hin1, and he ,,-as to visit the distressed at their houses,
and gently comfort the (( sick and offer thenl the best
that he had and sa\v that they needed, and if they
needed something that he had not, he ,vas to try and
provide it." And there ,,,as an InfirJJzarius, ,,,ho
looked after the sick in hospital, \\'ith his O\V11 separate
cook and kitchen for their needs, ,,'ho "'as to provide
freely for all that could comfort them, and also to
take care that no one took advantage of the conl-
parative indulgence of the infirmary. I'he regulations
are lllinute and lengthy about the treatn1ent of the
dying. He ,vas attended ,\'ith prayers and psalms
to the last; ,,,hen he entered into his" agony," a hair-
cloth ,vas spread, ashes scattered upon it, and a cross
made on the ashes, and on this the dying brother ,,,as
laid. The \vhole convent "Tas sunlmoned by sharp re-
peated blo,vs on a board: all \"ho heard it, ,,'hatevcr
they,vere about, except they \\'ere at the regular service

IlL] .

A
YORJIA1\T JJO.J.YASTERY.

(7

in church, \vere to run to the bed of the dying, chant-
ing in a lo\v tone the Nicene Creed; and they \vere to
remain about him, saying the Penitential PS3.ltns and
Litanies till he died. So, in the presence of all his
brethren, anlid their suffrages and supplications, in
sackcloth and ashes, the monk gave up the ghost.
Such are the descriptions of the last scenes in the
lives of men of this time: so
-\nselm died, and so
his friend and pupil Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester,
the builder of the To\ver of London.
In these regulations, entering frequently into very
lllinute detail as to the observances of times and sea-
sons, it is natural that \ve should find a great 111ixture;
that \vith things \vise and reasonable, and \\Tell adapted
to ends deserving of respect, \ve should find much that
is childish, much that is mischievous, much that i

sinlply inconlprehensible. So it appears to us no,v;
and probably \vith our larger experience \ve are right.
But matters \vhich approach to the nature of form
and etiquette are ahvays things on ,vhich a nlan ,,'ho
is careful in forming his judgnlents \vill be especially
cautious in pronouncing a strong opinion. We find
thenl in black and ,,'hite in a book, and there they
look very different from \vhat such things do \"hen
\\Te see them in living action, allJ surrounded by
circunlstances \vith which they harmonize; and one
age can never expect to understand and feel \yith the
forms of another, just as one class of society is often
silnply unable to see anything to respect or care for
in \vhat is full of gravity and 11leaning to another,
above 'it, or belo\v it, or even. co-ordinate with it.
La\"yers, soldiers, doctors, clergymen, are apt to
find much that is strange and unintelligible in one
another's codes and professional ideas. But \yith all
F 2

63

A lÇORi11AN JJfONASTERY.

[CHAP. III.

shortcomings and fantastic usages and misdirection,
one thing the monasteries \vere, \vhich was greatly
needed in their day. In an age ,vhen there was so
much la,vlessness, and \vhen the idea of self-control
,vas so uncomnlon in the ordinary life of man, they
,vere schools of discipline; and there \vere no others.
They upheld and exhibited the great, then almost the
original idea, that men needed to rule and govern
themselves, that they could do it, and that no use
of life \vas noble and perfect \vithout this ruling.
It \vas hard and rough discipline like the times, \vhich
were hard and rough. But they did good \vork then,
and for future times, by impressing on society the
idea of self-control and self-Inaintained discipline.
And rude as they were, they were capable of nurtur-
ing noble natures, single hearts, keen and powerful
intellects, glo,ving and unselfish affections.
In those days, there were soldiers and soldiers, and
no doubt fe\ver good ones than bad ones. We have
no reason to suppose that it was othenvise \vith
monks, or that the general praise \vhich \ve meet
\vith of monks as such, means more than the corre-
sponding general praise of the military virtues of an
army, \vho are all supposed to be gallant and high-
minded. But the soldier of kno\vledge and of re-
ligious self-discipline had a noble ideal; and it was not
unfulfilled. In Anselm's life we can see how the man
filled up the formal life of the monk, as he might have
filled up that of the soldier. Through the clumsiness,
the simplicity, the frequent childishness of that tinle
of beginnings, the shrewdness and fine sympathies and
affection of Anselm's English friend and biographer
show us how high and genuine a life could be realized
in those rude cloisters.

C HAP T E R IV.

Al'SELM AT BEC.

"Temperance, proof
Again
t all trials; industry severe
And constant as the motion of the day;
Stem self-denial round him spread, with shade
That might be deemed forbidding, did not there
All generous feelings flourish and rejoice;
Forbearance, charity in deed and thought,
And resolution competent to take
Out of the bosom of simplicity
All that her holy customs recommend."
'VORDSWORTH, Excursion, b. vii.
" Servants of God! or sons
Shall I not call you? because
Not as servants ye knew
Your Father's innermost mind,
His, who unwillingly sees
One of His little ones lost-
Yours is the praise, if mankind
Hath not as yet in its march
Fainted, and fallen, and died!
* * * *

Then in such hour of neen -
Of your fainting, dispirited race,
Ye, like angels, appear,
Radiant with ardour divine.
Beacons of hope, ye appear!
Languor is not in your heart,
'Veakness is not in your word,
'Veariness not on your brow."
1\lA TTHEW ARKOLD.
ANSELM: came to Bee, as men later on went to
universities, to find the best kno\vledge and the best

7 0

.AiVSELlIl .A T BEe.

[ CHAP.

teaching of this day. He read indefdtigably, and
himself taught others, under Lanfranc. Teacher and
pupil, besides being both Italians, had n1uch to dra\v
thenl together; and a friendship began behveen theIn,
\vhich, in spite of the difference bet\veen the t\VO n1en,
and the perhaps unconscious reserve caused by it,
continued to the last genuine and unbroken. Lan-
franc ,vas a n1an of strong practical genius. Anselm
\vas an original thinker of extraordinary daring and
subtlety. But the t\\'o n1en had high aims in com-
m"on; they kne\v \vhat they n1eant, and they under-
stood each other's varied capacities for their con1n10n
task. They found then1selves among a race of men
of singular energy and great an1bition, but at a very
lo\v level of kno\vleòge, and \vith a vcry lo\v standard
of morality; illiterate, undisciplincù, la\vless. To
educate anJ to reform, to a'\"akcn the Normans to
the interest of letters and the idea of duty, to kindle
the desire to learn and to think, and to purify and
elevate the ain1s of life, \\rere the double object of both
Lanfranc and Anseltn, the key to their ul1,,'caried
zeal to re-organize and infuse fresh vigour into the
1110nastic systeln, \yhich ,vas the instruInent ,vhich they
found ready to their hand. Opposite as they \verc
in character, and ,vorking in different lines, the great
purpose ,vhich they had so sincerely at heart bound
thetn together.
\Vhen Anselm had, as ,ve should say, follo,ved
Lanfranc's lectures for some time, the question pre-
sented itself to \\'hat use he should devote his life. In
those hard days, the life of a monk ,vas not harder
than that of a student; each ,vas pinched \vith cold
and \\'ant, each could only get through his day's ,york

IV.]

AIYSELJI AT BEe

7 1

,vith toil like that of a day-labourer. \Vhat \\'as on
the side of the monk's life ,vas its definite ain1 and its
hope of re\vard. It \\'as a distinct self-dedication to
the service of the great ::\Iaster, and it looked for the.
great l\Iaster's special approval. Anselnl had begun
to feel his po\ver, and to reflect on the cost of pri-
vation and effort at ,vhich the fruits of thought and
kno\vledge had been bought. Ho\\' shou1d he best
keep then1 fron1 being thro\vn a\vay? The same
temper ,vhich in those days naturally carried other
Inen to be soldiers, carried him to be a monk; but
\vhat sort of monk should he be? Cluni ,vas then the
most famous an10ng monastic organizations; but Cluni
discouraged learning. \Vhy should he not stay at
Bec? He confessed to hin1self after\vards that he
felt that \vhere l...anfranc ,vas so great there 'vas no
room for hin1, and that he \vanted, even as a monk,
a sphere of his own. "I ,,'as not yet tamed," as he
said in after times, \vhen he used, in playful mood,
to talk over his early life \vith his friends-" I ,vant a
place, I said to myself, ,,-here I can both sho\v ,,,hat
I kno\v and be of use to others; I thought my
motive \vas charity to others, and did not see ho\v
hurtful it ,vas to mysel(" But self-kno\vledge came
and an honest understanding ,vith hin1self, and ,vith
it ne,v plans of life opened: if he ,vas to be a monk,
he ,vas to be one for God, and at Bec as ,veIl as any-
,vhere; if rest and God's comfort ,vere his desire, he
\vould find them there. But ,vith the ever paramount
thought came other thoughts, too. His father's in-
heritance had fallen to him, and he considered the
alternative of going back to take it. Should he be a
monk at Bec, a hermit in the \vilds, or a noble in his

72

ANSELAf AT BEC.

[CHAP.

father's house, administering his patrimony for the
poor? He put hilllsélf into Lanfranc's hands. Lan-
franc referred him to the Archbishop of Rouen. The
archbishop advised him to become a monk. It is
hard to see what better ad vice in those times he
could have given to a man consumed by the passion
at once for kno\vledge and for the highest ideal of life.
Anselm became a monk at Bec in the twenty-seventh
year of his age; in tnree years' tin1e he succeeded
Lanfranc as prior; fifteen years after this Herhvin,
the founder, died, and Anselm was chosen abbot; and
he governed Bec as abbot for fifteen years lllore. l
Lanfranc had set a high exan1ple, and to him be-
longs the glory of having been the creator of Bec, the
kindler of light and force among the N orrnan clergy,
the leader of improvement and efforts after \vorthier
n10des of life on a ,vider stage than N ortnandy. He
,vas for his day an accomplished scholar and divine,
a zealous promoter of learning, of order, of regularity
of life, a man of great practical po\vers, and noble
and commanding character, apparently not without
a tinge of harshness and craft. He left his scholar
Anseln1 to carryon his \vork at Bec; his scholar-
but it ,vould not be easy to find t\VO more different
men. Lanfranc's equal might \vithout much diffi-
culty be found among many of the distinguished
churchmen of the IVliddle Ages. The man ,vho suc-
ceeded hin1 ,vas one \\'ho, to a child-like singleness
and tenderness of heart, joined an originality and
po\ver of thought \vhich rank him, even to this day,
among the fe\v discoverers of ne\v paths in philo-
sophical speculation. Anselm was one of those
1 :Monk, 1060 ; Prior, 1063; Abbot, 1078 till 1093.

IV.]

A1VSELlJf AT BEC.

73

devout enthusiasts after exact truth, \vho try the
faculties of the human mind to the uttermost, and to
\vhom the investigation of new ideas, pushed to their
simplest forms and ultimate grounds, takes the place
of the passions and objects of life. He had all that
dialectical subtlety and resource \vhich a\vakening
mind in half-barbarous times exacts from and ad-
mires in its guides ; but he had also, besides this,
\vhich ,vas common enough, the daring and the force
to venture by himself into rea] depths and difficulties
of thought, such as have been tried by the greatest
of Inodern thinkers, and in \vhich lie the deepest
problems of our own times. Fixed at Bee, the philo-
sophic inquirer settled to his toil, and reverently and
religiously, yet fearlessly, gave his reason its range.
His biographer records the astonishment caused by
his attempts to "unravel the darkest, and before
his time the unsolved or unusual questions con-
cerning the Divine Nature and our faith, \vhich
lay hid, covered by much darkness in the divine
Scriptures." "For," adds Eadmer, "he had such
confidence in them, that \vith in11110vable trust of
heart he felt convinced that there ,\ras nothing in
them contrary to solid truth. Therefore he bent
his purpose most earnestly to tl-)is, that according
to his faith it might be vouchsafed to him to per-
ceive by his mind and reason the things \vhich \vere
veiled in them."
The men of his day, as \ve see, recognized in him
something more than comnlon as an inquirer and a
thinker; but it \vas reserved for much later times to
discern ho\v great he \vas. It needed longer and
wider experience in the realms of speculation, and a far

74

AJ.VSEL
lI AT BEC.

[ CHAP.

higher cultivation than ,vas attainable in his age, to
take the true measure of his original and penetrating
intellect. His first ,vor
s ,vritten at Bec sho\v his
refined subtlety of thought, ,vith the strong effort to
grasp in his o\vn \vay the truth of his subject. They
exhibit the mind really at \vork, not anlusing itself
\vith its kno\vledge and dexterity. They are three
dialogues, in ,vhich he grapples ,vith the idea of Truth,
\vith the idea of Free-\vill, and \vith the idea of Sin,
.as exhibited in \vhat may be called its simplest fornl,
the fall of an untem pted angelic nature. But the
fruits of his intellectual activity at Bec are sho,,-n on
a very different scale in bvo \vorks, also con1 posed
\vhen he \vas prior, ,vhich have gained hinl his place
among the great thinkers of Christian Europe-t\vo
-short treatises on the deepest foundations of all reli-
gion, exanl pIes of the most severe and abstruse

xercise of mind, yet coloured throughout by the
intensity of faith and passionate devotion of the soul
to the God of T ru th ,vhich sets the reason to \vork.
The first of these is the JJlollologioJl. He originally
called it " An Exanlple of Meditation on the Reason
of Faith;" and it \\Tas meant to represent a person
discoursing secretly \\'ith himself on the ground of his
belief in God. It is an attempt to elicit from the
necessity of reason, \vithout the aid of Scripture, the
idea of God, and the real foundation of it; and to
exhibit it "in plain language and by ordinary argu-
n1ent, and in a simple manner of discussion"-that is,
\vithout the usual en1ployn1ent of learned proofs;
and he aims, further, at sho\ving ho\v this idea
necessarily leads to the belief of the VV ord and the
Spirit, distinguished from, but one \vith, the Father.

IV.]

.11YSELJI A T BEe.

75

The .lJIoJlologioJl is an investigation of \"hat reason
alone sho\ys God to be; though the inquiry starts
fronl the assumption of the convictions of faith, and
finds that reason, independently follo\ved, confirms
them. The basis of his method, one of several he
says, but the readiest, is the existence of certain
qualities in man and nature, nloral and intellectual
excellences and \vhatever \ve call good, ,,'hich, he
argues, to be intelligibly accounted fur, presuppose,
as the ground of their existence, the same qualities in
a perfect and transcendent manner in a Being who
is seen, on further reflection, to be the one \vithout
\vhom nothing could be, and \vho Hinlself depends
on nothing. It is an argument from ideas, in the
sense in \vhich Plato spoke of thenl, as grounds
accounting to reason for all that is matter of expe-
rience. The mode of argument is as old as Plato,
and became kno\vn to .L-\nselm through St. Augustin.
But it is thought out afresh and shaped ane\v \\'ith
the originality of genius. A recent French critic,
Emile Saisset, remarks on the "extraordinary bold-
ness, \vhich strikes us in every page of the .JIOllO-
logioll." The clear purpose and the confident grasp
of the question, the conduct of the reasoning from
step to step, calm and almost iMpassive in appear-
ance, but sustained and spirited, the terse yet elabo-
rate handling of the successive points, the union in it
of self-reliant hardihood, \vith a strong sense of \\'hat
is due to the judgment of others, make it, \vith its
companion piece, the Pr'oslogio1l, \vorthy of its fanle,
as one of the great masterpieces and signal-posts in
the developnlen t of this line of though t; though, like
its great companions and rivals, before and after

7 6

ANSELllf AT BEC.

[CHAP.

it, it leaves behind a far stronger impression of the
limitations of the human intellect than even of its
powe
. .
But he was not satisfied \vith the argument of
the AIollologioJl, a chain consisting of many links,
a theory requiring the grasp in one vie,v of n1any
reasonings. Eadmer dra\vs a remarkable picture,
\vhich is confirmed by Anselm's o\vn account, of
the \vay in \vhich he \vas tormented \vith the long-
ing to discover some one argument-short, simple,
self-sufficing-by which to demonstrate in a clear
and certain manner the existence and perfections
of God. Often on the point of grasping \vhat he
sought, and as often baffled by \vhat escaped from his
hold, unable in his anxiety to sleep or to take his n1eals,
he despaired of his purpose; but the passionate desire
\vould not leave him. It intruded on his prayers, and
interrupted his duties, till it carne to appear to him
like a temptation of the devil. At last, in the \vatches
of the night, in the very stress of his efforts to keep off
the haunting idea, "in the agony and conflict of his
thoughts," the thing \vhich he had so long given up
hoping for presented itself, and filled him \vith joy.
The discovery, Eadruer tells us, \vas more than once
nearly lost, from the mysterious and unaccountable
breaking of the \vax tablets on \vhich his first notes
\vere \vritten, before they \\'ere finally arranged and
committed to the parchment. The result \vas the
famous argun1ent of the ProslogioJl, the argun1ent
revived with absolute confidence in it by Descartes,
and \vhich still employs deep n1inds in France and Ger-
n1any \vith its fascinating n1ystery-that the idea of
God in the human mind of itself necessarily involves the

IV.]

AllSELJI AT BEC.

77

reality of that idea. The Pr'Oslogio1Z, a very short com-
position, is in the shape of an address and lifting up of
the soul to God, after the manner of St. Augustin's
Confessions, or what in French is termed an Elé'va-
tion, seeking to kno\v the rational foundation of its
faith; fides quærCllS ÙltellectltlJz. The 'c fool who says in
his heart, there is no God," in his very negation compre-
hends the absolutely unique idea of a Being the most
perfect conceivable, an idea \vithout a parallel or like-
ness; but real existence is necessarily involved in the
idea of a Being than \vhom nothing can be conceived
greater, othenvise it \vould not be the most perfect
conceivable. He treats the idea of a Being, than
which nothing greater can be conceived, and of which
existence is a necessary part, as if it \vere as much an
intepectual necessity as the idea of a triangle, or, as
Descartes puts it, a mountain which must have its
valley; and the denial of the" fool" to be as impos-
sible an attempt as the attempt to conceive the non-
existence of the idea of a triangle. The obviously
paradoxical aspect of the argument, in seen1ing to
make a mental idea a proof of real existence, \vas
brought out at the time ,vith some vigour, though
\vith an inadequate appreciation of the subtlety and
d
pth of the question in debate, by a
"'rench monk of
noble birth, Gaunilo of Marmoutier; and in reply to
this, the argument, .which is very briefly stated in the
Proslogion itself, is stated afresh, and Anselm puts
forth the full po\ver of his keen and self-reliant mind
to unfold and guard it. A curious touch of playful-
ness occasionally relieves the austere argumentation.
To illustrate the absurdity of Anselm's alleged posi-
tion, that what is more excellent than all things in

78

AJ.VSEL17I A r BEC.

[CHAP.

idea must exist in fact, Gaunilo instances the Illsula
þerdita in the ocean, the lost A tlalltis of poets
and philosophers, said 0 be the most beautiful of all
lands, but inaccessible to nlan. Gaunilo makes merry
\vith his parallel, \\'hich Ansehn rejects. "I speak
confidcntly," he ans\ycrs, "jidclls loqllor-if anyone
\vill discover for n1e anything, either existing in fact
or in thought alone, besides lÏtat than 'iuhich llothing
<<greater call be thought; to \vhich he can fit and apply
the structure of this my reasoning, I \vill find and
give hin1 that lost island, never to be lost again." But
this is a passing touch \vhich for once he could not
resist: in the treatment generally of the argument in
this reply, he sacrifices the moral and, so to say, the
probable and in1aginative aspect of it, to its purely
scientific form. Until it is expanded by considera-
tions \vhich Anselm refuses to take in, it secnlS but a
rigorous follo\ving out of the consequences, \vhich are
inevitably itnposed on the reasoner \vho accepts the.
definition of God as "That than \\Thich nothing grcater
can be thought:' But the argument \vas one \vhich in
its substance approved itself to nlinds like those of
Descartes, and Descartes' great critics, Samuel Clarke,
Leibnitz, and IIegel; and these bold and soaring
efforts of pure reason, so de\Tout and reverently con-
scious of \\That it had accepted as the certainties of
religion, yet so ardently bent on intellectual discovery
for itself, are the tl10re rcnlarkable \vhen it is con-
sidered that in their form and style Anseltn had no
l1lodel, not even in his chief 11laster, St. Augustin. Nor
\vas he imitated. The great Schoolmen follo\ved a dif-
ferent track, and a different nlethod; and it is only on
account of thcir conlülon devotion to abstract thought,

IV.]

A.A'SELJI AT BEC.

79

and of the impulse \\'hich Anselnl doubtless gave to a
more severe and searching treatment of theology, that
he can be classed as one of them, or as their fore-
runner. I t has been observed ,vith justice, that his
nlethod is much more akin to the spirit of independent
philosophical investigation ,vhich began \vhen the age
of the Schools had passed, in the sixteenth century.
I t differs from this in the profound convictions of the-
certainties of religion, convictions as profound as those
of moral duty, from ,,'hich it starts and ".ith ,vhich
it is con1bined, and by the spirit of ,,'hich it is evel-
quickened and elevated.
But he ,vas not only a thinker. His passion for
abstruse thought "'as one ,vhich craved, not solitude
but companionship. He \vas etninently a teacher.
The l\Iiddle Ag-es are full of pictures of great n1asters
and their scholars; but fe,v of them exhibit the con-
nection in its finest form-as a combination of natural
authority ,vith affection, of deep personal interest and
large public aims, of familiarity and associated labour
between the teacher and his circle of pupils, of a guide
\\'ho does not impose his opinions or found a school,
but ,vho sho\ys the ,yay and a,,'akens thought,-so
clearly as it is seen in the glinlpses ,vhich are given,
in .i\nselnl's letters and \yorks and i'1 Eadnler's life, of
Anselm's monastic schooL I-lis chief care, says his
biographer, ,vas devoted to the younger men, ,vhosc
nlinds \vere to be forn1ed for ,york to con1e, and ,vho
,vere not too old to learn, or to be kindled ,,-ith high
purposes, and quickened into fresh enterprises of
thought. "He compared the age of youth to ,vax
fitly tempered for the seaL For if the ,vax be too
hard or too soft it receives but inlperfectly the im-

80

ANSELJf AT BEC.

[CHAP.

pression. So is it in the ages of man. You see a man
from childhood to deep old age, busy \vith the vanities
of this \\Torld, minding only earthly things and har-
dened in them. Talk to him of the things of the
spirit, of the refined thoughts of divine contemplation,
teach such a 111an to search out these secrets of heaven,
and you \vill find that he has not even the po\ver of
kno\ving \yhat you mean. And no wonder-the \vax
is hardened; he has not spent his life in these things,
he has learned to pursue their opposites. Take, on
the other hand, a boy of tender age, not able to
discern either good or evil, not even to understand
you \vhen you talk of such things, and the \vax is too
soft and n1elting- it \vill not retain the impression.
The young man is behveen the t\VO, fitly tempered of
softness and hardness. Train up him, and you may
mould him to \vhat you \vil!." The turn of hopeful-
ness given to the trite image is characteristic. Gifted
\vith singularly keen insight into men's hearts, and
\vith quick and \vide syn1pathy; instinctively divining,
\vith a sureness \vhich struck even men accustomed, as
monks \vere, to this kind of faculty, the secret \vishes,
trials, sorro\vs, perils of each, and exercising that attrac-
tion \vhich dra\vs men to those who understand and
respect them, Anselrn's influence reached to wherever
he came in contact \vith men, inside his monastery or
\vithout. The \vords of Christ and heaven \vere ever
on his lips; but they \vere words for an.
He \vas not a preacher; but he was remarkable for
his readiness to address or discourse \vith lay people
of all conditions in their o\vn language and on their
o\vn ground, as much as to compose Latin homilies
for the chapter-house of his monks. His correspond-

IV.]

ANSELM AT BEC.

81

ence alone shows how, as time ,vent on, his relations
with persons of all classes extended; and he cared for
all and willingly worked for all. vVho
e days, says
Eadmer, he ,vould spend in giving advice to those
who claimed it; and then the night \vould be spent
in correcting the in-written copies of books for the
library. He was as ready and as un,vearied in doing
the work of a nurse in the infirmary or at the
death-bed, as he was to teach and discuss in the
cloister, or to bury himself in contemplation in his
cell. His care and his toil \\rere for all within his
spiritual household, and flowed over beyond it; but
his love and his interest were for the younger men; for
minds not yet dulled to the wonders and great ends of
living, needing as he did answers to its great ques-
tions, eager and hopeful as he was to venture on the
H majestic pains" and anxieties ot thought needful to
meet them. Wearied once with his work, he sought to
be relieved of it by the Archbishop of Rouen; but ,he
received the answer usual in those days, that he was
to return and prepare for greater and heavier burdens.
" So," says Eadmer, "he went back He behaved so
that all men loved him as their dear father. He bore
with even mind the ways and the \veaknesses of each;
to each he supplied what he saVor they wanted. Oh,
how many given over in sickness has he brought back
to health by his loving care ! You found
I-Ierewald, in your helpless old age \vhen, disabled by
years as well as by heavy infirmity, you had lost all
power in your body except in your tongue, and were
fed by his hand, and refreshed by \vine squeezed
from the grapes into his other hand, from which ):ou
drank it, and \vere at last restored to health. For no
S.L. x. G

82

.A
\
.SELJl A T BEC.

[ CHAP.

other drink, as you used to say, could you relish, nor
froln any other hand. So it \yas: Anseltn used to be
constantly in the infinnary, inquiring after the bre-
thren's sicknesses, and nlinistering to each ,,'hat each
needed 'without delay or trouble. So it ,vas: he ,vas
to those in health a father, to the sick a nlother-rather,
to healthy and sick, father and mother in one. And so,
\vhatever secrets anyone had, to Anselnl, as to a nlost
s\veet mother, he sought to confide it. But it ,vas the
young men \vho ,vere most anxious to do so."
Why the. young turned so enthusiastically to one
,vho thus sympathised ,vith thenl, nlay be understood
froln the follo\ving conversation, in \vhich Anselm's
good sense and freedonl of mind appear in contrast with
the current ideas of his time, \vhich \,.ere not those of
the eleventh century only. An abbot, says Eadmer,
\vho \vas looked upon as a very religious man, \vas one
day deploring to Anselm the itnpossibility of making
any inlpression on the boys who \vere brought up in
his monastery. " \Vhat are ,ve to do \vith them?" he
asked in despair: "do ,,,hat ,ve \vill they are per"erse
and incorrigible; \ve do not cease beating them day
and night, and they only get \\Torse." c. And you
don't cease beating them?" said Ansehn; "\vhat do
they turn into \vhcn they gro\v up?" "They turn
only dull and brutal," ""as the ans\ver. "\V ell, you
have bad luck in the pains you spend on their
training," said Anselnl, "if you only turn men into
beasts." "But \vhat are \ve to do then?" said the
abbot; "in every kind of "Tay \ve constrain them to
improve, and it is no use." " COllstrain them! Tell
I11C, my lord abbot, if you planted a tree in your
garden, and tied it up on all sides so that it could not

[IBRARY ST. MARY'S 'OL LE G

IV.]

A.VSELJI AT BEC.

83

stretch forth its branches, \vhat sort of tree \vould it
turn out \vhen, after some years, you gave it room to
spread? vVould it not be good for nothing, full of
tangled and crooked boughs? And \vhose fault would
this be but yours, \vho had put such constant restraint
upon it? And this is just ,vhat you do with your
boys. 1t ou plant them in the garden of the Church,
that they may gro,v and bear fruit to God. But you
cramp them round to such a degree ,vith terrors and
threats and blo\vs, that they are utterly debarred
from the enjoyment of any freedom. And thus inju-
diciously kept do\vn, they collect in their minds evil
thoughts tangled like thorns; they cherish and feed
them, and \vith dogged temper elude all that might
help to correct them. And hence it comes that they
see nothing in you of love, or kindness, or goodwill,
or tenderness to\vards them; they cannot believe that
you mean any good by them, and put do\vn all you
do to dislike and ill-nature. Hatred and mistrust
grow \vith them as they grow; and they go about
\vith do\vncast eyes, and cannot look you in the face.
But, for the love of God, I \vish you \vould tell me
\vhy you are so harsh \vith them? Are they not
human beings? Are they not of the same nature as
you are? \V ould you like, if you \vere \vhat they are,
to be treated as you treat them ? You try by blows
and stripes alone to fashion then1 to good: did you
ever see a craftsman fashion a fair image out of a
plate of gold or silver by blo\vs alone? Does he not
\vith his tools now gently press and strike it, no,v \vith
\vise art still more gently raise and shape it? So, if
you \vould mould your boys to good, you must, along
,vith the stripes \vhich are to bow them dO\\Tn, lift
G 2

84

AJI/SELJf AT BEC.

[CHAP.

them up and assist them by fatherly kindness and
gentleness." . . . "But," the abbot insisted, ",vhat
\\'e try to do is to f rce them into seriousness and
sturdiness of character; ,vhat are we to do?" H You
do ,veIl," said Anselm; "but if you give an infant
solid food you ,vill choke it. For every soul, its pro-
portionate food. l'he strong soul delights in strong
meat, in patience and tribulations, not to ,vish for
,,,hat is another's, to offer the other cheek, to pray for
enemies, to love those that hate. The ,veak and
tender in God's service need milk: gentleness from
others, kindness, mercy, cheerful encouragement, cha-
ritable forbearance. If you \vill thus suit yourselves
both to your ,veak and your strong ones, by God's
grace you shall, as far as lies in you, win them all for
God." HAlas!" sighed the abbot, ""ve have been all
\vrong. \Ve have ,vandered from the ,vay of truth,
and the light of discretion hath not shone on us."
And falling at Anselm's feet he confessed his sin, and
asked pardon for the past, and promised amendment
for .what was to come.
A strange and touching history in Eadmer-strange,
\vith those \vays of thought, ,vhich their unquestioned
naturalness then render doubly wonderful no\v,-
touching, from that depth of affection ,vhich all times
knovv and can understand-sho\vs ho,,, Anselm had
learned his o,vn lesson. \\Then he \vas made prior,
after only three years' profession, over the head
of the older inmates of Bee, a strong feeling of
jealousy ,vas sho\vn, and a party formed against
him in the monastery. \Vith them ,vas one of the
younger monks named Osbern, ,vhose hatred of
Ansehn ,vas extreme, and ,vho pursued him \vith the

AJI.,rSELiJI AT BEC.

85

"savageness of a dog" (ca1ZÙlo 1JlOre). Anselm, who
sa,v that he had character and talent, began by the
most forbearing and irnmovable good-hurnour, and by
giving him in return the fullest indulgence compatible
\vith the discipline of the house. In time asbern \vas
softened, and became deeply attached to him. Then,
gaining influence over him, Anselm step by step \vith-
dre\v the early indulgences, and accustomed him to
the severities of the monastic life-" punishing him
not only \vith ,vords but ,vith stripes." asbern stood
the test, and \vas ripening into manly strength. But
there came a fatal illness. Then Anselm \vatched and
\vaited on him like a mother; "day and night \vas at
his bedside, gave him his food and drink, ministered
to all his ,vants, did everything himself that might
ease his body and comfort his soul." \Vhen the end
came and asbern \vas dying, Anselm gave him a last
charge. He bade him, speaking as friend to friend, to
make kno\vn after his death, if it \vere possible, \vhat
had become of him. "He promised, and passed
a\vay." vVe need not be surprised that the charge
\vas believed to have been fulfilled. During the
funeral Anselm sat apart in a corner of the church,
to \veep and pray for his friend; he fell asleep from
heaviness and sorro\v, and had ct." dream. He sa\v
certain very reverend persons enter the room \vhere
asbern had died, and sit round for judgment; and
\vhile he ""as \vondering \vhat the doom \vollld be,
asbern hitnself appeared, like a man just recovering
from illness, or pale \vith loss of blood. Three time
,
he said, had the old serpent risen up against him, but
three times he fell back\vaïds, and "the Bearward
of the Lord (Ursa} ÙIS DOJJzilli) had delivered him."

86

..1 NSELJI A T Br..
C.

[CHAP.

Then Anselm a\voke, and believed that Osbern's sins
\vere pardoned, and that God's angels had kept off his
foes "as the bear\varQs keep off the bears." Death
did not seem to break the friendship: Osbern's
memory \vas in Anselm's prayers, and his letters
sho\v ho\v deep and tender \vas the surviving affec-
tion. He prays his friends to offer for Osbern the
prayers and masses \vhich they \vould offer for himself.
"\Vherever Osbern is," he \vrites to his friend Gun-
dulf, "his soul is my soul. Let me, then, \vhile I am
alive, receive in him \vhatever I might have hoped to
receive from friendship ,vhen I anl dead; so that then
they need do nothing for n1e. Fare\vell! farewell!
uti charissi1l1C
. and that I may recompense you
according to your importunity, I pray, and I pray,
and I pray, remel11ber l11e, and forget not the soul of
Osbern nlY beloved. If I seem to burden you too
much, then forget me and remenl ber him." \Vhat-
ever the shape in \\Thich such feelings clothe themselves,
they are not less real for their shape; and to all \vho
feel the mystery and obscurity of our condition, that
deep reality ,,,ill gain their respect and sympathy.
We may trace in such records that renlarkable com-
bination of qualities \vhich ultinlately made Anselm
the object of a love and reverence surpassing even
the admiration excited by his rare genius. \;Vhat is
striking is that ,vith so much of his age, so po\verfu I
and severe in mind, so stern in his individual life, a
monk of the monks, a dogmatist of the dogmatists,
he yet had so much beyond his age; he ,vas not only
so gentle and affectionate and self
forgetting, but
he 'vas so considerate, so indulgent, so humane, so
free-spirited, so natural. Austerity \vas part of the

IV.]

A
VS.ELJf AT ß.EC.

8

I

ordinary religious type of the til11e; it \vent, in-
deed, commonly \vith all loftiness of character and
aim; the great Conqueror \vas austere, and of course
a monk ,,,ith a high estimate of his calling \vas so.
But Anselnl's almost light-hearted cheerfulness, his
,,,inning and unformal nature, his temper of modera-
tion and good sense, his interest in all kinds of men,
and po\\'cr of accomnlodating hinlself to all kinds of
characters, his instinctive insight into the substance
of questions of truth and justice, his leaning, in an
age when all trust \vas placed in unbending rules, to
the side of compassion and liberty, formed a com-
bination ,vith personal austerity \\'ith \vhich his age
,vas not familiar. His place of ,,'ork \vas among
monks, and he must not be regard cd as a popular
teacher of religion. He had gifts \vhich, perhaps,
might have qualified hinl to exercise a ,,'ide popular
influence; but he lived in times "'hen there \vas little
thought of direct addresses to the 111inds of the multi-
tude, and \vhen all serious efforts at ordering life on
religious principles \vere concentratcd in a small
body of professed ascetics. The days of the great
preachers \vere at hand; but they had not yet comc.
A certain nunlber of honlilies are found among
Anselnl's ,,'arks; but they are fOl the most part of .
doubtful authority, and those which seeln genuine
are not sernlons, but expositions, lneant not for a lay
congregation, but for a chapter-house of lnonks. Yet
it is clear that Anselm's influence told on numbers
,,,ho ,vere not monks; and the vehicle of his influence
seems to have been, not preaching, but free conver-
sation. To his passion for abstract and profound
thought, he joined a taste for sinlple and natural

88

ANSELM AT BEC.

[CHAP.

explanation, an a homely humour in illustration,
which renlinds the reader sometimes of Luther or Lati-
met-nlore truly, perhaps, of St. François de Sales, and
of the vein of quaint and unceremonious amusement
running through some of the later Italian works of
devotion. Eadmer, or some other of his friends, made
a collection of his sayings and comparisons, and
his common modes of presenting moral and religious
topics, very miscellaneous in selection and unequal in
worth, but giving probably an unstudied representa-
tion of his ordinary manner of discourse. " He
taught," says Eadmer, "not as is the \vont with others,
but in a \videly different fashion, setting forth each
point under common and familiar examples, and sup-
porting it by the strength of solid reasons, without
any veils or disguises of speech." There is a touch of
grim appreciation of the ludicrous in his comparison
of himself, peacefully living with his monks or going
forth among men of the \\Torld, to the fate of the owl
which ventures into the day; while she sits still with
her" little ones in her cave, she is happy and it is well
with her; but ,vhen she falls atnong the crows and
rooks and other birds, one attacks her v/ith beak,
another with claws, another buffets her with wings,
and it goes ill \vith the owl." There is a deeper
touch of sympathy for distress and suffering in the
story of the hare, \vhich, \vhen he was riding one day,
after he had become archbishop, from Windsor to
Hayes, the young filen about him started and chased
\vith their dogs. The hare took refuge under the
feet of his horse. Anselm reined in his horse, and
forbade them to hurt the creature, while, so the story
goes, the dogs surrounded the hare and licked it,

IV.]

ANSELlvl AT BEC.

89

doing it no harm. \Vhen the soldiers cro\vded round
,vith noisy triumph at the capture, Anselm burst into
tears. " , You laugh,' he said, 'but for the poor un-
happy creature there is nothing to laugh at or be glad
for; its 1110rtal foes are about it, and it flies to us for
life, in its o\vn \vay beseeching for shelter. You see
the i01age of the departing soul of man. It goes
forth from the body, and straightway its enemies, the
evil spirits, \vhich have hunted it through the doub-
lings of its evil-doings all its life long, cruelly beset it,
ready to tear it in pieces, and plunge it into eternal
death. But it, terrified and affrighted, looks on this
side and on that,. longing \vith desire that cannot be
uttered for the hand ,vhich shall defend and pro-
tect it; and the delnons laugh and rejoice if they see
it \vithout any aid to help it.' Then he rode on, and
,vith a loud voice forbade that the dogs should touch
the hare; and the creature, glad and at liberty, darted
off to the fields and \voods." The story \vill remind
some readers of Luther's hunting at the \Vartburg,
and the \vay in \vhich he " theologized" on it.
In the year 1078, Anselm became abbot, and his
connection with England began. Bec, with the other
Norman abbeys, had since the Conquest received
possessions in England, and the new abbot went over
to vie\v the abbey lands and to visit his old master
Lanfranc. At Canterbury he was \velcomed at the
great monastery, and became one with the brother-
hood of its monks, most of them probably English-
men. There he made the acquaintance of Eadmer,
then a stripling; and Eadn1er's first remembrance of
him seems to be of the brotherly \vay in \vhich he
lived \vith the English monks, and of the original and

9 0

.r1 1\' S.EL.Jf A T BE C.

[CHAP.

unusual \vay in \vhich, in his discourses in cloister or
in chapter, he put before them the aims and duties
of their state. Lanfranc \vas then full of the changes
\vhich he \vished to introduce in the n10nastic and
ecclesiastical organizàtion of England; and Anselm,
though he undoubtedly fully sympathiseçi ,vith his
master's object, used his influence to temper Lan-
franc's sternness and soften his Norman and Latin
prej udices. When Lanfranc - rlldis A Jlgllls, as
Eadmer calls him, and inclined to disparage even
the saints of the "Barbarians"-disputed the claim
of the English Archbishop Elphege (.lElfheah) to
martyrdom, because he had been put to death, not
for religion, but for refusing to ransom his life at the
expense of his tenants, Anselol, \\'ith characteristic
but rare generosity and largeness of thought, ans,vered
that one \"ho had died rather than oppress his tenants
had died for righteousness, and that "he ,vho dies for
righteousness dies a martyr for Christ." Anselm, no
N ornlan, and ,vith a larger heart than the Normans,
,,-armed to,vards the English ,vith something of the
love and syn1pathy \vhich had filled the soul of the
great Ron1an Pope ,,'ho sent us St. Augustine; and
the respect \vhich he sho \ved to the defeated race
impressed the foreigner
\vho had become their
nlasters. In his visit, more than once repeated, to
the abbey lands about England, he becanle knO\\'11.
He "'as English nlonasteries and collegiate houses;
he ,vas received in the "courts" of sonle of the
nobles; and every\vhere his earnest and ,vise counsels
combined, \vith his frankness and his readiness in
meeting all on their o,,"n ground, to thro\v a singular
charnI about hioI. "In his \vonted manner," says

IV.]

A1YSELJI AT BEC.

9 1

Eadmer, speaking of these days, "to all he sho\ved
hitnself pleasant and cheerful, and the ,,,ays of each,.
as far as he could \vithout sin, he took upon himself.
For, according to- the Apostle's \vord, he suited him-
self to them that \"ere \vithout la\v, as if he had been
\vithout la\v, being not \vithout la\v to God, but under
the law to Christ, that he might gain those \vho ,vere
not only \vithout the la\v, as it \vas thought, of St.
Benedict, but also \vho lived, devoted to a \vorIdly
life, in 111any things ,vithout the la,v of Christ. So
that hearts ,vere in a ,,'onderful manner turned to-
,vards him, and \vere filled \vith hungry eagerness to
hear him. For he adapted his \vords to each order or
men, so that his hearers declared that nothing could
have been said to fall in better ,vith their .ways. To
monks, to clerks, to laymen, according to each man's
purpose, he dispensed his \\Tords." Eadmer d,vells
especially on the contrast bet\veen his "Tay of teach-
ing and that customary \"ith others, and on his pre-
ference for plain reasons, popular illustrations, and
straightfonvard speech which all could understand.
He \vas ,,'elcome to old and young, rich and poor; he
touched the hearts of English monks, and ,yon the
respect of Norman soldiers. "There \vas no count
in England, or countess, or po\verful person, ,,,ho did
not think that they had lost merit in the sight of
God, if it had not chanced to them at that time to
have done some service to Anselrn the abbot of Bec."
\Ve 111uSt ren1en1ber, of course, that this is the account
of a friend, in days \,'hen friends \vere easily satisfied
\vith \vhat made for their friends' credit. But the
general account is confirmed by the effect of Anselm's
character on \;Villiam in his later stern and gloomy

9 2

AIVSELJ1f AT BEC.

[CHAP.

days. "To all others so harsh and terrible, in An-
selm's presence he seellled, to the wonder of the
bystanders, another man, so gracious and easy of
speech." Years after, \vhen IZing \Villiatn \vas on his
..
forlorn deathbed, Anselm ,vas the man ,vhom he most
\vished to see.
There is another feature on \vhich Eadmer remarks.
The monks ,vho retired fro-m the world found it
impossible, after all, to free themselves from the cares
and business of the '\vorld. They had property; and
those \vho have property must take the chance of la,v-
suits. La\\Tsuits ,vere frequent in those days. Even
the venerable Abbot H erlwin could not escape them;
and one of the excellences for ,vhich he \vas re-
membered at Bec ,vas the skill \vith which he used
the kno-wledge he had gaimed of the customs and
rules \vhich then nlade N Or1juan la\v, for the protection
of his monks in the lords' courts. But even at this
time the monks had got a character for kno\ving and
using unscrupulously legal advantages. Eadmer re-
marks, as. if it \vas something to be remembered, that
Anselm steadily set his face against all kinds of
chicane. "For he judged it abo1l1inable, if in the
business of the Churcl anyone made his gain
of that ,vhich another Inight lose, by crafty dealing
against the rules of justice. So that he never \\yould
allo,v anyone in la,vsuits to be taken at advantage
by any of his people, through any unfair practice,
Inaking a conscience not to do to- others \vhat he ,vould
not have done to himself" And E3.dmer goes on ,vith
a picture, quaint, as so many things are in those days,
but ,vith touches from the life in it. "So it happened
that, sitting an10ng the contending pleaders, \vhile his

IV.]

AiVSEL
Jf AT BEC.

93

opponents ,vere taking counsel by \vhat skill or by
,vhat trick they might help their o\vn cause or damage
his, he, not n1inding it, ,vas conversing ,,,ith anyone
\vho \vished to address him, either about the Gospel
or some other divine Scripture, or SOIne point of right
cond uct. And often, \"hen he had no one to listen of
this kind, quietly at peace in the purity of his heart,
he ,vould close his eyes and sleep. And often it came
to pass that the cunning devices against him, \vhen
they came to his hearing, ,vere at once exposed and
torn to pieces, not as if he had been asleep all the
\vhile, but as if he had been fully a,vake and keenly
,vatching. For charity, '\\Thich envieth not, vaunteth
not itself, seeketh not her o,vn,' \vas strong in him, by
,vhich he sa\v at a glance the things that he ought
to see; for the truth \vas his guide."
The affairs of the house of Bec brought him to
England more than once after his first coming over.
"England became familiar to him, and, according as
occasions required it, \\'as repeatedly visited by him."
Thus he became \vell kno\vn in England as the great
churchman, \vho, foremost and ,vithout an equal in
learning, ,vith all his reforn1ing austerity and rigour,
sho\ved most signally in ,vord and act the good-\vill
he bore to Englishmen, and ,,,hose influence \vas not
less remarkable \vith the strong and fierce strangers
\\'ho for the time had become their n1asters.

..

CHAPTER V.

ORDER[C THE CHRONICLER.

" Oh that our lives, which flee so fast,
In purity were such,
That not an image of the past
Should fear from l\Iemory's touch!
" Retirement then might hourly look
Upon a soothing scene ;
Age steal to his allotted nook,
Contented and serene;

" \Vith heart as calm as lakes that sleep,
In frosty moonlight glistening:
Or mountain rivers, where they creep
Along a channel smooth and deep,
To their own far-off murmurs listening."
\\r ORDSWORTH.

OF course all N annan monasteries were not like
Bec, and all their abbot
and priors were not like
Herhvin, Lanfranc, and Anselm. Monasteries, like
.colleges, like regiments, like other permanent bodies
of men, had each its own spirit, and more or less
distinct type; uniformity of ends, much less of rules,
does not necessarily make men alike. These dif-
ferences of type \vere not merely differences bet\veen
good and bad; they \vere differences of character,
bent, and tastes. And that was a time when, more
than ever, a community ,vas apt to reflect the spirit

CHAP. V.]

ORDERIC THE CHROl\
/CLER.

95

of its leaders. The leaders of the N ornlan monas-
teries ,vere of many kinds. 1'he monastic chroniclers,
though fettered partly by the etiquette of monastic
feelings and respects, partly by the imperfection of
their instruments of expression, ,vere not bad ob-
servers of character, and let us see, ,vith much
distinctness, the variety of men \\'ho guided these
brotherhoods, and the changes that ensued by the
ren10val of one and the succession of another. A
good deal is told ,vhen we are informed, for instance,
that to Guntard, abbot of J umiéges, a strict ruler,
favourable to the gentle and obedient, but stern to
the perverse, succeeded Tancard, prior of Fécamp,
(( savage as a lion "-ferus 1/t leo. Orderic's pages
are full of these vivid touches; and in contrast to the
students of Bec, with their spirit of keen and bold
speculation, we may set Orderic himself, and the com-
nunity to ,vhich he belonged. Orderic, not a thinker
or teacher, but to whom ,ve o,ve nlost of ,vhat 've
kno\v of the world in ,vhich I\.nselm and his disciples
lived, spent no idle life; and besides preserving the
picture of his own times, he has, incidentally and
,vithout meaning it, preserved his o,vn portrait-the
portrait of a nlonk ,vho, full of his profession, and
made sympathetic, tender-hearted, and religious by
it, as 'veIl as something of a pedant and a nlannerist,
looked \vith curious and often discrIminating eye at
the scene of life, and contemplated its facts as others
inquired into its mysteries.
The monastery of ,vhich he ,vas a member, St.
Evroul, ,vas situated in a forest near the upper course
of the Rille, surrounded by places famous in Norman
history, L' Aigle, Breteuil, Séez, on the borders of the

9 6

ORDERIC THE CHRONICLER.

[CHAP.

dioceses of Evreux and Lisieux. It was, in its new
or restored condition, some years younger than Bec ;
but it was a house ,vhich, as much as Bec, repre-
sented the new zeal of Normandy, and aimed at car-
rying out a high relIgious service. \:\T e kno\v about
it mainly from Orderic; and his account sho\vs ,vhat
a stormy existence might be the lot of these places of
religious peace. St. Evroul, as has been already said,
,vas founded in part by the great house of Grentmaisnil,
one member of ,vhich, Robert, a man of some learning,
and still more a keen man of business, and a soldier
-he had been Duke \Villiam's esquire-became a
monk in it about 1050. Its first abbot was Theodoric,
a monk of J umiéges, of great piety and zeal, ,vhose
holiness imposed awe even on the savage lady, 1\Iabel
of Belesn1e, Countess of Montgon1ery, the terror of
her neighbourhood, and kept her froIn doing "either
evil or good" to his house. He \vas blameless as
a spiritual ruler; he established at St. Evroul a
flourishing school of copyists; but in managing the
business of the house he \vas not so successful, and a
party of malcontents clamoured against him. "He
ought not to be a bbot-a man \vho kno\vs nothing of
business and neglects it. Ho\v are nlen of prayer to
live, if men of the plough are ,vanting? (ullde 'l)i
}ellt
ora/ores, si difccerillt aratorcs 1) He is a fool, and
cares more about reading and writing in the cloister
than about providing sustenance for the brethren."
The leader of the party was Robert of Grentmaisnil,
,vho had helped to found the house, and ,vas nq\v
prior. For a ,vhile \Villi
m of Geroy, one of the
co-founders, supported Abbot Theodoric; but \Villiam
died on a journey to his Nonnan kinsmen in Apulia,

\.J

ORDERIC THE CHROl\rICLER.

97

and then the un\vorldly and simple-minded abbot
,,-as driven by sheer \vorrying and intrigue from his
place. He attempted to resign, and retired fron1 the
house to one of its dependencies; but Duke \ Vil-
liam and the Archbishop of Rouen interfered, and
a council of eminent churchmen, including Lanfranc,
,,-ere sent to make peace, "yho exhorted Robert to
"follo\v the poverty of Christ," and to obey his
superior. For a little time there \vas quiet; then
the persecution began again, and the abbot, unable to
endure it, fled from the house and from X ormandy,
and died at Cyprus on his \vay to J erusalern. Then
Robert ,,-as chosen abbot (1059), the monks" reason-
ably considering his high birth and his ardent zeal in
the interests and business of the house." "He ,vas,"
says Orderic, "much to be praised for purity of life
and other sacred gifts; but as nothing, according to
Flaccus, is altogether blessed, he ,vas in some points
blame,vorthy. For in the good or evil things ,vhich
he desired, he ,vas rapid in action and ardent;
and ,,-hen he heard or sa \V "That he disliked, he "'as
swift to ,vrath; and he liked better to be uppermost
than to be under, and to comroand than to obey.
He had his hands open both to receive and to give,
and a mouth ready to satisfy his rage ,vith un-
measured ,vords." Robert's ,yay of dealing ,vith
troublesome and refractory tenants of the monastery
is characteristic: he simply transferred them to their
natural feudal lord. "Having taken counsel ,vith
the brethren, he handed over the said rebels, for their
obstinacy, to his kinsn1an Arnold, that he might crush
their stiffneckedness, ,vho ,vould not peaceably endure
the mildness of the monks, by a soldier's hand, as long
s. L. X. H

9 8

ORDERIC THE CHROl\'IC'LER.

[ CHAP.

as he lived. Arnold then made their life ,yeary ,vith
many and divers services . . . so that they earnestly
entreated Abbot Robert and the nlonks that they
might be placed again under their po\ver, pr.omising
them all subjection and obedience." The members.
and the possessions of St. Evroul increased under him,
and though, as Orderic is fond of repeating, it ""as
founded in a barren and hungry land, yet the Abbot's
influence ,vith his friends brought to it the revenues
\vhich he needed for his grand designs. But the ener-
getic abbot became involved in the quarrels bet,veen
Duke \Villiam and the house of Grentmaisnil and its
friends. He ,vas accused of using mocking \vords of
the Duke. He ,vas cited to appear before the Duke's.
courts, but he dared not trust himself there, and retired
from Norn1andy. \Villiam filled up his place, and the
monastery ,vas distracted between partisans of the ne,v
abbot Osbern and those \vho looked on him as an
intruder, and could make his place uncomfortable.
Robert ,vent to Rome, then to his kinsmen in Apulia.
He persuaded the Pope of the goodness of his cause,
and returned \vith letters and t\vo cardinal legates from
the Pope, to r:-egain his abbey. \Vhen \Villiam heard
of their coming, he was greatly wroth, and said that
" he ,vould gladly receive the Pope's legates, as from
the common Father, about faith and Christian religion;
but that if any monk of his land brought any complaint
against him, he ,vould hang him, \vithout ceremony, by
his co,vl to the highest oak of the neighbouring ,vood.'

Robert hastily took himself off; and after excommuni-
cating his intruding successor, returned to Rome. But
the excommunication caused great distress at St.
Evroul. The brotherhood broke up: several of the

v.]

ORDERIC THE CHR01VICLER

99

older men follo\ved Robert, as still their rightful abbot,
to Rome, \vhere the Pope Alexander, once a pupil of
Lanfranc's at Bec, received him hospitably; and the
monastery suffered much from its lay neighbours, \vho
took advantage of the quarrel to annoy and plunder
the monks. Osbern remained \vith terrible torments
of conscience. He at last made a hurnble submission
to the Pope, and \vas formally allo\ved to keep the
place into ,vhich he had been intruded. "He \vas
frorn his childhood," says Orderic, "very learned in
letters, eloquent of speech, and exceedingly inge-
nious in all kinds of handicraft: such as carving,
building, \vriting, and the like; he ,vas of middle
stature, ,veIl grown, \vith his head completely loaded
\vith black hair or \vhite. He ,vas harsh to the silly
and fro\vard, merciful to the sick and poor, fairly liberal
to people outside, fervent in discipline, a most skilful
provider of all that the brethren needed, spiritually
or bodily. He kept the youths in very severe order,
and compel1ed them by \vord and stripes to read and
sing and ,vrite \vell. He himself \vith his o\vn hands
made the \vriting tablets for the children and the
unlearned, and prepared frames, covered \vith wax,
and required from them daily the due portion of
,york appointed to each. Thus driving a\vay idle-
ness, he laid on their youthful ni.
nds wholesome
burdens." Robert sought a ne\v home in Apulia
arllong his Norman fello\v-countrymen. He founded
three monasteries in Italy. He came back afterwards
and made his peace \vith \Villiam ; but he did not re-
gain his abbey, and found Normandy no place for him.
13ut Orderic rejoices that by his means, "in three
monasteries of Italy, the chant of St. Evroul is sung,
H2

100

ORDERIC THE CHRO
VICLER.

[ CHAP.

and its monastic order observed to this day, as far as
the opportunity of that country and the love of those
,,,ho d\vell in it allo\v."
The vicissitudes of St. Evroul are a contrast to
the tranquillity of Bec; but they did not prevent
St. Evroul fron1 being a flourishing establishment.
" The Abbey of Ouche or St. Evroul," says 1\lr.
Freeman, "has its o\vn claim on our respect. It
\vas the spot \vhich beheld the composition of the
record from ,yhich ,ve dra,v our main kno,yledge
of the times follo\ving those \vith ,vhich ,ve have to
deal: it \vas the home of the man in ,vhom, perhaps
more than in any other, the characters of Normans
and Englislunen "rere inseparably Iningled. There
the historian \vrote, '1'ho, though the son of a
French father, the denizen of a Norman nlonas-
tery, still clung to England as his country and
gloried in his English birth - the historian \\"ho
could at once admire the greatness of the Conqueror
and sympathise ,vith the \vrongs of his victims, "rho,
amid all the conventional reviling 'v hich N ornlan
loyalty prescribed, could still see and ackno".ledge
,vith genuine ddmiration the virtues and the great-
ness even of the perjureC: Harold. To have merely
produced a chronicler nlay seem faint praise beside
the fame of producing men ,,,hose career has had
a lasting influence on the human mind; yet, even
beside the long bead-roll of the \vorthies of Bec,
some thoughts may ,veIl be extended to the house
\vhere Orderic recorded the minutest details alike
of the saints and of the ,varriors of his time."
Orderic's picture of himself, as he has incidentally
disclosed it, is not un\\Torthy, in its pathetic and

y.]

ORDERIC THE CHRO
\7CLER.

101

sinlple truthfulness, to stand beside the grander
objects of interest in the age to \vhich he belonged.
Orderic 'vas the English-born son of a French
father, Odeler of Orleans, ,vho had accompanied one
of the most po,verful and most trusted of \Villiam's
barons into England, Roger of l\lontgomery, the
husband of the fierce Countess l\Iabel of Belesme,
heiress of that ,vicked house of Talvas, from \\Thich
the s\Vord seemed never to depart. In England,
Roger of l\Iontgomery and Belesme had become
lord of Arundel and the Sussex shore, and then,
in addition, Earl of Shre\vsbury; and he guarded
the northern nlarches against the \ V elsh, \\Thom he
"nlightily oppressed," after the fashion in ,vhich
Elizabeth's \varriors kept in check the Irish. Of
this great lord, Odeler ,vas a confidential and fa-
voured cleric. He ,vas a priest, and he ,vas, or had
been, married; and the ,yay in ,vhich Orderic, one
of his three sons, becanle a monk of the Norman
house of St. Evroul, is a curious example of the
habits of the time. \Vhatever the great earl ,vas to
others, to his clerical family he turned a good side;
H he ,\'as \vise and moderate, and a lover of justice,"
says Oròeric, repeating probably the received judgnlent
of his father's house, "and he loved the company
of ,vise and modest men. He kept. for a long time
three ,vise clerks \vith him-Godbald, Odeler, and
Herbert-to ,vhose advice he profitably listened."
Like others of his time, he ,vas a bountiful bene-
factor to the religious foundations of France and
K ormandy, frorn the spoils of England: St. Ste-
phen's at Caen, Cluni, Troarn, and others received
from him English lands; and after having done

102

ORDERIC THE CHR01VICLER.

[CHAP.

much mischief to the house of St. }::vroul, in the
lifetime of his cruel \vife, the Countess Mabel, \vho
hunted its founders to death, he after\vards atoned
for his ill deeds by large benefactions of rents,
.
ch urches, and lands on both sides of the Channel.
Odeler persuaded his patron to make amends for
his offences, and to save something from the perishing
goods of time, by founding a monastery near Shre,vs-
bury-CC a castle of monks," as Orderic calls it in
the quaint speech \vhich he makes his father address
to the cc glorious consul," to be built for God against
Satan, H ,vhere co\vled champions (pugilcs) may
resist Behemoth in continual battle." He himself
offered a site, and half his property; the other half \vas
to be held of the monks by one of his three sons;
he offered himself: he offered another son, a boy of
five years old; and his eldest child Orderic, a boy
at school, he absolutely gave up for the love of the
Redeemer, to be separated from him for ever,
and sent across the sea, ",vhere, an exile of his o\vn
accord, he might be a soldier of the King of heaven
among strangers, and, free from all mischievous re-
gard and tenderness of relations, he might flourish
excellently in monastic observance and the service of
the Lord." H He had provided for him a safe place
of abode among the servants of God at St. Evroul
in Normandy; and he had given of his substance
30 marks of silver to his masters and companions,
as a thank-offering of blessing." H He had long de-
sired thus to devote himself and his family to the
service of the Lord, that in the day of account he
,vith his children might be counted \vorthy to stand
among the elect of God."

y.]

ORDERIC THE CHRO;.'\7CLER.

10 3

His proposal ,vas approved by the Earl, and
by the Earl's vassals, ,vhose assent ,vas asked:
the nlonastery ,vas built and endo\\.ed ,yith gifts
fronl friends; 1110nks fronl Séez ".ere brought over
to start it, and the gift of Earl Roger, comprising
a suburb of the to,yn, ,,-as offered on the altar to
St. Peter by the synlbol of the founder's gloves.
" This," says Orderic, ,\.ho long aften\"ards tells the
story, "is a digression, be it of ".hat account it may,
about the building of the monastery on Iny father's
land, ,vhich is no\v inhabited by the fanlily of Christ,
and ,vhere nly father hill1self, as I renlember, an
old ll1an of sixty, ,villingly bore to the end the
yoke of Christ. Forgive me, good reader, and let
it not be an offence to thee, I pray thee, if I commit
to record something about nlY father, ,yhOll1 I have
never seen, since the time \\'hen, as if I had been a
hated step-child, he sent nle forth for the love of his
:\laker, into exile. It is no\\. forty-t\vo years ago, and
in those years nlany changes have been, far and
,vide, in the ,vorld. \Yhile I often think of these
things, and some of thenl cOll1mit to IllY paper,
.carefully resisting idleness, I thus exercise nlyself
in inditing them. N 0'\- I return to nlY ,york, and
.speak to those younger than Inyself,-a stranger, to
those of the country,-about their o\\'n affairs, things
that they kno\\. not; and in this \\Tar by God's help
do thenl useful service."
In the same strain of perfectly resigned and con-
tented confidence in his lot and his hopes, yet of
pensive and affectionate yearning to the no\v distant
.days of his boyhood, and to the scenes and nlen
.about his father's house ,,,here it \yas passed, and

10-+

ORDERIC THE CHR01\7CLER.

[ CHAP.

where he had his last sight of his father-the chapel
where he ,vas baptized, the altar \vhere he served, the
good prior ,vho taught hiln letters-he concludes the
long ,york of his life; and finishes in a solemn appeal
and earnest com n1enåation to the God \vhom he has
served, not unbeCOll1ing one \vhose lifelong study had
been the Book of Psalms :-
H Behold, \vorn out \vith age and infirn1Ïty, I desire
to end my \vork, and for Inany reasons prudence
requires it. For I am no\v [1141] passing the sixty-
seventh year of my age in the \vorship of my Lord] esus
Christ, and \vhile I see the foremost men of this \vorId
crushed by heavy disasters of the n10st opposite sort,
I dance for joy, in the safe estate of obedience and
poverty. There is Stephen, king of the English, sigh-
ing in prison; and Le\vis, king of the French, leading
an expedition against the Goths and Gascons, is vexed
,vith n1any and frequent cares. There is the church
of Lisieux, ,vhose bishop is dead, and \vhich is ,vithout
a pastor; and ,vhen it \vill have one, and of ,vhat sort,
I kno\v not. \Vhat shall I say more? i\mid these
things, I turn my speech to thee, 0 Altnighty God,
and ,vith double force beseech thy goodness that thou
\vouldest have mercy on rr:e. I give thee thanks, 0
I<'ing most high, \vho didst freely make nle, and hast
ordered my years according to thy good pleasure.
For thou art my I<'ing and my God, and I am thy
servant and the son of thine handmaid, \vho, from the
first days of my life, according to my po,ver, have
served thee. For on Easter eve I \vas baptized at
Attingeshan1 [Atchal11], ,vhich village is in England
on the Severn, that great river of Severn. There, by
the ministry of Ordric the priest, thou didst regene-

Y.]

ORDERIC TIlE CHRO.Y/CLER.

10;

rate n1e by ,yater and the Holy Ghost, and didst put
upon me the nanle of the same priest, my god-father.
1'hen, ,yhen I ,vas five years old, I \vas delivered over
to school in the city of Shre\vsbury, and there I
offered to thee the first services of clerkship in the
Church of the holy apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul.
There Sig\vard, the famous priest, taught me for five
years the letters of the Camena Nicostrata,l and broke
me in to psaln1s and hymns and other necessary in-
structions; n1ean\vhile, thou didst exalt the aforesaid
church, built on the river l\Iole, "which belonged to my
father, and by the pious devotion of Count Roger didst
build there a venerable monastery. It did not seem fit
to thee that I should longer be thy soldier there, lest
\vith my relations, \"ho often to thy servants are a
burden and hindrance, I should suffer- some disquiet,
or run into sonle loss in the fulfilment of thy la\v
through the carnal affection of my relations. There-
fore, 0 glorious God, \vho didst command Abrahanl
to go forth from his country and his father's house and
kindred, thou didst put into the heart of Odeler my
father, to give up all his claim in me, and to put n1e
absolutely under thy yoke. So he delivered nle to
Rainald the monk, a Yleeping father his \veeping child,
and for the love of thee appointed me to banishn1ent :
and he never sa\v me aftenvards. Young boy as I \vas,
I took not on me to dispute nlY father's \vishes, but in
everything I \"illingly assented, for he had promised
on his part that, if I \vould becolne a monk, I should
after my death possess Paradise \vith the innocent.

1 That is, the alphabet, the invention of the
Iuse Nieastrata ; a bit
of Orderie's erudition. Vidè Diet. Biag. and !\Iythol. art. Ca1Jl
'Jlæ, and
H;ò Ùms .

J06

ORDERIC THE CHR01\ 7 ICLER.

[CHAP.

Gladly ,vas this engagelnent n1ade bet,veen me and
thee, 111Y father being its minister; and I left behind
111Y native country and lny parents and all 111Y kin,
and my acquaintance and friends, and they, ,,'eeping-
and bidding n1e fare,vell, ,vith loving- prayers, conl-
Inended 11le to thee, 0 1110St hig-h Lord God. I--Icar
their supplications, I beseech thee, and graciously
grant ,vhat they desired, 0 merciful I{ing of Sabaoth.
" So being ten years old I crossed the British Sea, and
came an exile to Normandy, ,vhere, unkno,vn to all, I
kne,v no man. Like Joseph in Egypt, I heard a strange
language. Yet by the help of thy favour, among .
these strangers I found all gentleness and friend-
liness. In the eleventh year of my age, I ,vas received
to the monastic life by the venerable Abbot l\'Iainer,
in the 1110nastery of Ouche, and on Sunday, the 2 1st
of September [r08s], I "'as tonsured after the man-
ner of clerks, and for tny English name, ,vhich sounded
harsh to N ornlans, the name of Vital is ,vas given me,
borro,ved frOITI one of the companions of St. I\1aurice
the martyr, ,vhose martyrdon1 'vas then celebrated
[Sept. 22 J. In this house for fifty-six years, by thy
favour, have I had my conversation, and by all the
brethren and d \vellers in it I have been loved and
honoured much more than I deserved. Heat and
cold and the burden of the day have I endured,
labouring an10ng thine O'VI1 in the C vineyard of So-
rech ;' 1 and the 'penny' \vhich thou hast promised I
have confidently \vaited for, for thou art faithful. Six
.abbots have I reverenced as 111Y fathers and masters,
because they ,vere in thy place: 1\Iainer and Serlo,
Roger and Guarin, Richard and Ranul( They,vere
. 1 The vineyard planted with" choice vine" (Isa. v. 2).

v.]

ORDERIC THE C1IR01'lICLER.

IOi

the la\vful heads of the convent of Ouche; for lTIe and
for others they kept \vatch, as those \"ho n1ust give
account; ,vithin and abroad they used good husbandry,
and, ,,,ith thee for their companion and helper, pro-
vided all things necessary for us. On r,Iarch 15 [109 I],
,vhen I ,vas sixteen years old, at the bidding of Serlo,
our abbot-elect, Gilbert, Bishop of Lisieux, ordained
n1e sub-deacon. Then after t,vo years, on the 26th of
I\'larch [1093], Serlo, Bishop of Séez, laid on me the
office of deacon, in ".hich grade I gladly ministered
to thee fifteen years. Lastly, in the thirty-third year of
my age, \Villiam, Archbishop of Rouen, on the 21st
of December [1107] laid on n1C the burden of the
priesthood. On the san1e day, he ordained 244 dea-
cons and 120 priests, ,vith \vhon1, in the Holy Ghost,
I devoutly approached thy holy altar, and have no,v
for thirty-four years faithfully performed thy service
unto thee ,vith a \villing mind.
"Thus, thus, 0 Lord my God, my
Iaker and the
Giver of my life, hast thou through different steps
besto\ved on me freely thy gifts, and duly ordered my
years for thy service. In all the places "'hither thou
hast so far led n1e, thou hast caused me to find love,
not by n1Y deserts but by thy favour. For all thy
benefits, 0 gracious Father, I give thee thanks, ,vith
my \vhole heart I laud and bless thee; and for all
my numberless offences, I ,vith tears beseech thy
mercy. Spare lTIe, 0 Lord, spare me, and let me not
be confounded. According to thy goodness, \vhich
cannot be ,vearied, look pitifully on thy handi\vork,
and forgive and ,,,ash a\vay all my sins. Give n1e a
\vill ,vhich shall persevere in thy service, and strength
that fails not against the craft and l11alice of Satan,

108

ORDERIC THE CHROJ.\7CLER.

[CHAP.

till by thy e-ift I attain the inheritance of everlastin rr

h
salvation. And the things ,,,hich I ask for n1yself, both
here and hereafter, 0 gracious God, those I ,vish for
my friends and benefactors; those too I earnestly
desire according to thy ,,,ise ordering for all thy
faithful ones. The ,vorth of our O'V11 deserts sufficeth
not to obtain those everlasting good things, ,vhich,
,,,ith burning desire, the longings of the perfect yearn
after. Therefore, 0 Lord God, Father Aìmighty,
l\Iaker and Ruler of the angels, true hope and eternal
blessedness of the righteous, therefore let the glorious
intercession help us in thy sight, of the Holy Virgin
and l\Iother l\Iary and of all the Saints, by the n1ercy
of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Redeelner of all, ,,'ho
liveth and reigneth ,vith thee in the unity of the
Holy Ghost, God for ever and ever. Anlen."
There is something very touching in the ,yay in
\vhich the old man of nearly seventy, broken in
and hardened to the stern life of a Norman abbey,
cannot help, in the midst of other subjects, going
back to the days of boyhood, ,,,hen he served at the
altar and .went to school in England by the banks of
the Severn, and recalls the bitter days of parting, and
his first dreary d\velling in t11at strange land ,vhich had
become so familiar to him. There is thankfulness,
hearty and sincere, for that ordering of his life, ".hich,
hard as had been its conditions, made him a monk;
a thankfulness like that of the patriarch Jacob to
his father's God, "which had fed him an his life
long;" a thankfulness not perhaps heroic, but sin1ple,
genuine, and tender, for having been preserved and
fenced round from the storms of a ,vild and naughty
,vorld. But the rigid rule and austere ideas of his

v.]

ORDERIC THE CHRO..\
ICLER.

J09

profession had left his feelings quick and \VarnI. They
had been chastened and brought into subjection; but
they kept their place. There ,vas no suppression of
natural affection in the old monk "'hose thoughts
d\velt so pathetically on the ",veeping" father ,,-ho
had given hin1 up, and" \vhom he had never seen
again ;" only a subordination of it to higher purposes,
a short parting here for an endless meeting at last.
....-\nd this \varm human interest and power of sym-
pathy mingling, often quaintly enough, ,,,ith the
harshnesses and abrupt severities of his age and of
his profession, are the characteristic features of Orderic
as a painter of his times. He caught the spirit of
,,,ark and the horror of idleness ,vhich ,,,ere at this
tinIe keen and dominant in the X orman cloisters;
and it is curious, and almost affecting, to see ho,v,
,,-ith such \\-retched tools as he had in the ,,-ay of
books and language, such an undeveloped stage of
intellectual cultivation, such poor and lin1ited possi-
bilities of understanding the \vorId about hinI and its
la "TS, and ,vhat ,,,as excellent in the specimens "Thich
he had of ancient perfection in thought and expres-
sion, he thre\v himself enthusiasticaìly into the task
of setting forth, ,vith life and truthfulness, the state of
things an1id ,vhich he lived, and of connecting ,,,ith it
the story of the ,vorld. His superiors found out that
he had the po,ver of \vords and of telling a story, in
the learned style fit for clerks \"ho aimed at being
lettered men; and they set him to ,york to record,
first the matters of interest to the house, and then
other things. Never ,vas there such a mass of con-
fusion as the book, as it gre\v under his hands for
sonle t\venty years or more; it is the torn1ent and

110

ORDER1C TJ-IE CHRo^rICLER.

[ CHAP.

despair of historians, \vho yet find in it some of their
best material. Of the style, an English reader may
best form an idea by combining the biblical pedantry
and doggrel of a Fifth-monarchy pamphlet of the
17th century \vith the classical pedantry of the most
extravagant burlesques of Dr. Johnson's English.
In Orderic, Greek \vords play the part \"hich Latin ones
play in English bombast. There is no reason to think
that he kne\v Greek; but he had picked up Greek
,vords, partly in the Latin fathers, partly in glossaries
and interpretations: he parades them, as a child
parades its finery or mock j e\vels, in his more common-
place Latin; and the effect undoubtedly is inexpres-
sible, though not exactly in the \'lay \vhich he intended.
Then, being a man of letters, and having read old
R0111an authors, he thinks it his duty to express the
facts of Norman life as n1uch as he can in the terms
of the great days of old: Norman ruffians, \vhose
abominable brutalities he describes, are "heroes;"
counts and barons are "consuls and consular men;"
a feudal array of Englishn1en or Normans is offi-
cered by cc tribunes and centurions." But every age
has its attempts at the grand style; and Orderic's,
grotesque as it is, is childishly innocent. For all this,
Orderic can see \vhat is before him, and can say \vhat
he sees and \vhat he l11cans. He is clumsy, disorderly,
full of rambling digressions, \vith one portion of his
account in one place, and the rest of it in another; h

does not ahvays remen1ber \vhat he has said, and is
by no n1eans to be trusted for accuracy. But he had
been, for his opportunities, a zealous and painstaking
reader. He had an eye and a care and interest for
details and for points of character. And he had a

v.]

ORDERIC THE CHRO.J.YICLER.

I I I

remarkable respect for \vhat seemed to hÏlll all the
facts of a transaction or a character, \\'hether or not
they looked very consistent or conlpatible \vhen they
\vere put side by side on paper. His sketches of men
have sonlctimes the faithful a\yk\\'ardness of a baè
photograph; the life and expression \vhich reconciled
incongruities are not there, but there are the actual
things to be seen, ugly and fair together. But there
is more than this. Orderic had the Christian-may.\\re
say, the English ?-spirit of justice. He kne\v a great
man \vhen he sa\v him; but he sa\'! too ,yhat \vas e\ril
and cruel and mean, even in a great man, and he \vas
not afraid to say it. Profoundly impressed, as most
of his contemporaries \vere, \vith the a\vful vicissitudes
of human life, and expressing this feeling often in
terms \vhich, in their force and simplicity, contrast
ren1arkably \vith the laboured grandiloquence of the
rest of the book, he ,vas more sensible than most
about him not only that right \vas not ahvays \vith
the victorious, but that truth and justice \\'ere i.. not
ahvays undivided on one side.
From him \ve get, \vithout fear or favour, the:most
lively image of ,vhat real life seemed to the d\veller
in a Norman monastery, brought in contact \\rith a
great variety of men, \vith a great and unceasing
movement all round him, \vith great enterprises in the
\vorld on foot and in progress, like the Eastern \vars,
and the gigantic schemes of ecclesiastical policy of
the Popes. Sometimes a traveller, Orderic speaks
of \vhat he himself sa\v at \Vorcester, at Croyland,
at Cambray, or at Cluni; more often, hearing the
stories or \vatching the \vays of travellers \vho
availed then1selves on their journey of the hospitality

112

ORDERIC TilE CHROJ\7CLER.

[ CHAP.

of St. Evroul, or \\"ho sought its shelter for their old
age. It is .as lively as real life, and also as confused
and unassorted. Nothing comes amiss to him-a
family history, \vith the fate of all the members of
the house-a great r
volution like the conquest and
subjection of England-the detailed account, often
spirited and vivid, of a deed of arms or a siege;
details, equally particular, and though not so vivid yet
quite as curious, of the customs and transactions of
the time, relating to property, to sales and gifts and
rents, and to the various \vays in \vhich property \vas
transferred, preserved, or lost; details of the monastic
profession, in itself a \vorId of its o\\'n, \vith its vicis-
situdes, its triumphs, its jealousies, its disasters, its
conflicts, its quarrels, its scandals; the manners, the
tastes,
the occupations, the singularities, the personal
appearance, the red hair, or rubicund visage, or short
stature, or passionate temper, or shre\vd \vays, of this
or that fan10us abbot or bishop ;-bits of description
of natural phenomena, such as ren1arkable thunder-
storms, or flights of falling stars ;-repetitions of super-
natural and Dantesque legends \yhich had been told
in the cloister, or of the stories brought back fron1
the Crusades, bearing on th
m the Inark of the highly
excited imagination of the pilgrin1s \vho told them;-
carefully \veighed and balanced SUll1maries of the cha-
racters of the great people ,,'ho pass across his scene,
or still better, brief forcible touches, evidently from
direct ill1pression, of some leading feature in the
abbots or bishops, the barons or knights, and by no
n1eans least, the ladies, of that \vild tin1e and turbulent
society. His great \vork is a ll1ixture of important
history, curious gossip of the country-side, judgments

v.]

ORDERIC THE CHR01VICLER.

113

on persons and things, \vhich but for their form \vould
not discredit a professed moralist of sarcastic humour;
orations composed \vith dignity, and put into the
mouths of great persons, because the Latin historians
did the same; and dry annals from the creation or the
flood, do\vn to the current year. He is ahvays in
danger of mistaking the true means of producing the
real effect of things, as it impresses his o\vn feeling;
of expressing his sense of \vhat is great, or eventful,
or tragic, by inflated \vords, or of representing \vhat
he intends for picturesqueness and vividness by some
ridiculously chosen epithet or some grotesque bit
of pedantry. But he is not ahvays on his stilts,
and often forgets himself, at least for some sen-
tences; and then he \vrites \vith discrimination,
clearness, and force; his sense of the absurd and
ridiculous gets for a moment, at all risk of indecorum,
out of the stiff shell of his erudition; and in the
story of some pathetic scene, the last moments,
for instance, and the leave-taking of some religious
man, or the fate of some former favourite of for-
tune, he is simple, touching, and impressive. These
pictures-though of course there is something con-
ventional in them, and \vhere the occasion seems to
demand it, the temptation to be rhetorical is irre-
sistible-are many of them remarkably distinct, unlike
in their circumstances to any other, each \vith its
o\vn colour and expression and individual character.
He sa\v great things and great nlen: not insensible
to their greatness, he \vas still more deeply im-
pressed \vith the a\vful contrasts of this mortal state,
and the tremendous march and lessons of God's
S.L. x. I

114

ORDERIC THE CHROJ\'ICLER.

[CHAP. V.

providence; and through the disfigurement of much
ignorance, and turgid \vriting, and bad taste, it is im-
possible not to discern and recognize the genuine
spirit of faith, the profound and over\vhelming sense
of the living and supreme government and justice of
Almighty God.

CHAPTER VI.

ECCLESIASTICAL AD
nN ISTRA TIO
OF \YILLIAM.

" The vast frame
Of social nature changes evermore
Her organs and her members with decay
Restless, and restless generation, powers
And functions dying and produced at need,-
And by this law the mighty whole subsists:
'Vith an ascent and progress in the main;
Yet oh ! how disproportioned to the hopes
And expectations of self-flattering minds."
'V ORDSWORTH, Excursio1l, b. vii.

AXSEL:\l'S life, before he can1e to England, nearly
-coincided ,yith the reign of \Villian1 the Bastard, as
Duke of Normandy, and then as King of England.
Anselm \vas born in 1033. In 1035, Robert the Great
Duke, Robert the Devil, died on his Eastern pilgrimage
far from home, at Kicæa; and left his son of seven years
old, ,yith the stain of his birth upon him, to meet the
scorn and to tame the anarchy of Normandy. In the
san1e year also, 1035, died the other mighty repre-
sentative of the Norsemen's victOlY, the great Cnut,
leaving in almost equal confusion the realm ,vhich,
thirty-one years after, the Norman boy-prince, \vhose
reign began \vith such dark and threatening signs, \vas
to \vrest from its right o\vner, and unite to Normandy
by a conquest the most eventful for good and for evil

n the history of Christian Europe. Anselm's life, like
I 2

116 ECCLESIASTICAL AD

fIj\lISTRA TION [CHAP.

the years of the house of Bee, nearly began \vith the
beginning of the Conqueror's reign; and very shortly
after the Conqueror's death (1087), the great change in
Anseln1's fortune came, \vhich transferred him to a ne\v
..
scene, and connected him henceforth \vith England.
Thus his life, up to the time \vhen he became arch-
bishop, extended almost exactly over the period \vhich
sa\v the moral awakening and the first serious at-
tempts at religious reform and political organization
in Normandy. Of these attempts it is too much to
say that the impulse came alone from Duke "VVilliam ;
but in no one \vas the improving spirit of the time
more powerful, and in no one, according to the
measure of the age, did it find a more intelligent
and resolute minister. In his latter days, hard and
unscrupulous as he \vas, an honest and large-hearted
purpose in favour of order and right directed his
government, \vhenever an irresistible ambition did not
overpo,ver every other thought and feeling.
Anselm arrived in Normandy when the poor help-
less boy, \vho had begun to reign just \vhen he himself
\vas born, had gro\vn up, through disaster, treachery,
and appalling dangers, into the greatest man of
Western Europe, \\'ho at nineteen had beaten do\vn
domestic rebellion at Val-ès-Dunes (1047), \vhose hand
had been heavy on his neighbours, on Anjou and
l\laine, \vho had taught the French invaders and the
French king a stern lesson, once and again, at Morte-
nler (1054) and Varaville (1058). The religious
movement \vhich had begun \\"ith the century had
gained strength \vith the progress of \Villiam's po\ver,
and ,,,as taking full possession of the Norman Church.
\Viliiam himself \vas deeply affected by it. The vague

VI.]

OF IVILLIAJI.

117

position of a royal patron of the Church, fitfully using
his po\ver from caprice or temper, had \vith him passed
into that of a jealous and intelligent guardian, \vatch-
ing over all that \vent on in churches and monasteries,
claiming great pO\\gers of interference, but interfering
\vith an object and on a system. The interests of
religion, as he understood them, \vere scarcely less a
matter of his solicitude than the political affairs of
his duchy. To his ambition they, like every moral
restraint, \vere subordinate; sometimes probably they
\vere so to his personal prepossessions: but, on the
\vhole, he had it distinctly in view' to .raise the tone of
feeling, duty, and life, and by his appointments and
general policy, as \\gell as by his personal strictness
and self-restraint, to check licence and disorder, and to
encourage the reality of religious effort. The customs
of Normandy, as of other \Vestern countries, allo\\
ed
him great po\vers in the Church; and, giving them
fresh significance froln the edge \vhich he put upon
them and the manifest intention \vith \vhich he used
them, he shaped them into a strong \\reapon for
making his authority felt in the fierce and unruly
society in \vhich men then had to pass their days.
In the government of mankind at that tilne, in
tl eir religious as \vell as their political life, three
po\vers may be discerned-Ia\v, delibt.rately settled on
some reasonable ground; custom; and personal cha-
racter and force. Of these three, law', as \ve understand
it, \vas the \veakest, personal action the strongest; but
though la\v ,vas a very small restraint on personal
\\rill, custom \vas a considerable one; and though
la,v ,vas as yet \veak, it ,vas the gro\ving element.
In various shapes, some very questionable and even

JI8 ECCLESIASTICAL ADJIINISTRATION [CHAPÞ

disastrous ones, it \vas beginning to assert its superior
claims in contrast with mere custom, and the \vill, in
a good direction or a bad, of individual holders of
po\ver. The monasteries with their rules had kept
up even in the darkest times the idea of equal and
real la\v, in however confined a range, \vhen the
canons of the Church and the la\vs of the Empire had
alike lost their force; the Italian municipalities had
also not entirely forgotten the traditions and the use of
Roman jurisprudence; and no\v, both in the political
state and in the Church, the statesmen of the age,.
emperors and pontiffs, were beginning to understand
the importance of a system of la\v, based on principles
of universal application, armed \vith due authority,
and enforcing its decisions. The emperors and their
adherents looked Íor it in the civil la\v of Rome
adapted to a feudal state of society; the popes and
their partisans had begun to build up the great struc-
ture of the Canon La\v. Both attempts partook of
the coarseness, the mingled rigour and looseness,
the inexperience, the necessary ignorance of the time;
both, though they \vere not \vithout much honest
purpose to promote and defend right and establish
a fixed order for human lire, \vere partial, incomplete,
liable to deviate before the prejudices of the many
or the selfishness of the strong; both \vere still fatal1y
influenced by the don1Ïnant belief in the claims
of personal authority; and one at least \vas based
on forgery and fraud, the parents of a still unex-
hausted train of n1ischiefs even to this day. ,t et
they were the beginnings, perhaps in those times.
the only possible beginnings, of la\v. They brought
the notion of it pron1inently before mankind. They

vr.]

OF
VILLIA1iI.

119

furnished examples of it, and \vith all their short-
comings they excite our interest and deserve our
respect, as the forerunners and first essays of those
nobler achievements of happier times, the fruit, not yet
matured, of the experiments, the mistakes and the
late \visdom of so many ages, by \vhich the face of
society has been changed.
The impulse, more in its religious than its political
character, \vas approaching Normandy; but there it
\vas still fitful and \veak. Custom ruled ordinarily; but
\vhen a strong and able man sho\ved himself, his
\vas the influence to \vhich all others bo\ved or adapted
themselves. A reformer and organizer in \vild and
ignorant days means a man \vho, \vith a clearer
sight than his brethren, and on the \vhole higher
and \vider objects, has a heavy hand and an inflexible
'will. Such \vas \tVilliam. \tVilliam, accordingly, ex-
ercised \vithout question, and as a matter of course,
an authority in the Norman Church \vhich in general
character differed little from the Tudor supremacy,
and \vhich a fe\v years later, and in different hands,
\vas resentéd as an intolerable grievance, and became
the occasion of fierce conflicts. He \vas the real
active head of the government, in the Church as
in the State; and no one thought it strange that
he should be. He appointed tl
e bishops, not
ahvays perhaps in the same manner; sometimes ap-
parently by his sole choice, sometimes \vith con-
sultation and assent of his chief men. He invested
them \vith their office by the delivery of the pastoral
staff, and they becan1e "his men" and o\ved him service
like his military lords: if he had charges against
them, they \vere tried .by his council and deposed

120 ECCLESIASTICAL AD

fIJ.YISTRA TION [CHAP.

by his authority. So \vith the abbots of the chief
1110nasteries: either he appointed them directly him-
self, or he gave leave to the monks to elect; but in
any case their choice had to be confirmed by him,
and he conferred the dignity by the pastoral staff.
If a monastery \vas to be founded, his consent had
to be obtained; probably not by any distinct la\v,
but because such a foundation \vould be utterly
insecure \vithout the allo,vance and guaranteed pro-
tection of the Duke, \\Tho was the general guardian
of the peace of his land. If a monastery got into
trouble from internal quarrels, the Duke \vas appealed
to, and he sent down a commission to investigate and
restore peace. Ecclesiastical as ,veIl as civil causes
came to his court; over churchmen as \vell as laymen
he asserted his authority, and both equally resorted
to his justice. And it ,vas not only as an arbiter
and judge, but as a visitor and overseer, acting from
himself, and carrying out purposes of his o\vn, that he
interposed in Church affairs. He asserted and exer-
cised his right to correct, to reform, to legislate for the
Church, and no one thought of contradicting him.
Orderic gives both sides of \ Yilliam's character,
and in giving one sometimes forgets the necessary
qualifications implied in the other. But undoubtedly
there \vas a real basis of fact in the follo\\.ing judg-
ment, \vritten after \Villiam's death :-
"King \ Villiam ,vas famous and deserved praise
for his zeal and love for many sorts of worth in nlany
sorts of men; but above all things he ever loved in
God's servants true religion, to \vhich sometimes
peace and \vorldly prosperity minister. This is \vit-
nessed by \vide-spread notoriety, and proved beyond

" 1.]

OF IVILLIAJ1f.

111

question by the evidence of deeds. For \vhen any
chief shepherd finished his course and passed from
this \vorld, and the Church of God in \vido\vhood
mourned for its proper ruler, the prince \vith due
care sent prudent delegates to the house \vhich \vas
\vithout its head, and caused all the church posses-
sions to be inventoried, lest they should be \vasted
by irreligious guardians. Then he called together
bishops and abbots and other ,vise counsellors, and
by their advice inquired very carefully \vho ,vas the
best and \visest nIan, as ,veIl in divine things as in
".orldly, to rule the house of God. Then the person
\vho, for the goodness of his life and for his learning
and \visdom, \vas selected by the judgment of the
\vise, the gracious king made the ruler and ste,vard
of the bishopric or abbacy. This observance he kept
for fifty-six years (?), during \vhich he bore rule in
the duchy of Normandy or in the kingdom of Eng-
land; and by this he left a religious custom and example
to those \"ho come after. The heresy of SilTIOny he
utterly abhorred, and therefore in choosing abbots
and bishops he considered not so much men's riches
or po\ver, as their holiness and \visdom. He set
persons approved in excellence over the n10nasteries
of England; by ,vhose zeal and strictness the estate
of monastic life, \vhich had some\"hat languished,
revived, and ,vhere it seen1ed to have failed, rose up
again to its former vigour."
Eadn1er, \vriting after the supremacy of the Con-
queror had developed into the tyranny of his sons,
thus describes the nature of his claims, the H usages"
on ,,"hich he governed.
" \ Vishing, therefore, to keep in England the usages

122 ECCLESIASTICAL ADJfIJ.VISTRATION [CHAP.

and la\vs \vhich he and his fathers \vere \vont to have in
Nonnandy, he appointed throughout the land bishops,
abbots, and other chief 1Tlen from among persons in
\vhom it \vould have been judged unseemly, if they did
not obey his la\vs in all things, laying aside every other
consideration, or if any of them, by the po\ver of
any earthly honour, dared to raise his head against
him; for everyone kne\v froll1 ,,-hence and for \vhat
they \vere chosen, and \vho they \vere. All things
therefore, divine and human, \vaited on his nod. To
understand \vhat this canle to, I \vill put do\vn some
of the novelties ,vhich he caused to be observed
throughout England; thinking them necessary to be
knO\Vl1, for the understanding of that ,vhich I have
undertaken to \vrite about. He \vould, then, suffer no
one in all his domínions to receive the Bishop of the
city of Rome for the Apostle's Vicar, unless by his
command, or in any \vise to receive his letters, unless
they had first been sho\\"n to himself. F urthei, he
\vould not suffer the Primate of his kingdom, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, if he \vere presiding over a
general council of the bishops, to establish or forbid
anything, unless \vhat \vas agreeable to his ,vill, and
had first been ordained by hinl. To none of his
bishops, nevertheless, did he permit that it should be
allo\ved to implead publicly or excommunicate any of
his barons or servants charged \vith incest or adultery,
or any great crime, except by his precept, or to
compel them by any penalty of ecclesiastical severity."
The character of this authority \vill be best seen in
t\VO or three instances-in the part ,,-hich the Duke
takes in the foundation and internal affairs of an
abbey, that of St. Evroul; and as regards Church

VI.]

OF IVILLIAJI.

12 3

legislation, in the proceedings of t\vo great Norman
assemblies, in \vhich he attempted to lay do\vn, in the
rude form, familiar to the times, of canons and decrees,
the principles of la\v as opposed to custom or mere
\\.ill, to \vhich he proposed to n1ake both the clergy
and the people generally conform themselves.
In 1050, four Norman nobles, \Villiam and Robert,
the sons of Geroy, and H ugh and Robert, sons of
Robert of Grentmaisnil, having resolved to found a
monastery on the spot consecrated by the abode and
memory of a saint, St. Ebrulfus or St. Evroul, and to
give certain lands for its support, "\vent to \Villiam
the Duke of the Normans and opened to him their
\vill, and besought hilll to help them in their salutary
\\'ork by his authority as prince. Further, the above-
named place they by common consent committed to
his guardianship, so that neither to themselves nor to
any other should it ever be la\vful to exact from the
n10nks or their men any custom or rent, save the
benefits of their prayers. The Duke gladly assented
to their good \vish, and confirmed the disposition of
the property \\'hich his nobles gave to St. Evroul, and
delivered the deed to l\'Ialger, the Archbishop of Rouen,
and to his suffragan bishops, to be confirmed by their
subscriptions. Then Hugh and Robert, having received
fro111 the Duke licence to choose all abbot," go to
J umiéges, and ask for a monk of J umiéges, Theodoric,
for the first head of their monastery. Then they
present him to the Duke, and the Duke, "receiving
him \vith due reverence, and having given hiln, as the
custom is, the pastoral staff, set him over the Church of
Ouche ;" and then he is consecrated by the Bishop of
Lisieux. That \vas the customary process in founding

I::q. ECCLESIASTICAL AD.J1I1ÇISTRATION [CHAP.

a monastic house. In the progress of the history of
St. Evroul, the san1e taking for granted of the Duke's
supreme authority to arrange, to sanction, and to re-
dress \vrong appears. The Duke grants his privilege
that the monastery may be for ever free and exempt
from all external authority. The Duke grants to the
brethren the right to elect their o\vn abbot, so that
they observe the rule of discipline, and are not in-
fluenced by friendship or kindred, or love of nloney.
The Duke commands the Archbishop of Rouen and
his bishops to confirm his grants, by making excom-
111unication the penalty of violating thenl. When
quarrels arose, and the Abbot Theodoric \vishes to get
rid of his burdens, he desires u to resign to \Villiam
Duke of the Normans his pastoral staff" \Villiam,
acting as a visitor, orders the Archbishop of Rouen
to send do\vn a cOITlmission, Lanfranc atnong them,
to inquire and make peace. \Vhen, in spite of this,
the poor old abbot is \vorried by the quarrels and
intrigues of his flock into running a\vay on a pil-
grimage to ] erusalem, the ne\vly-elected abbot, his
enemy, Prior Robert de Grentmaisnil, is presented to
the Duke for approval and confirmation, and receive
from the Duke the entire po\ver of the abbacy, by
means of the crosier of Bishop I vo of Séez, and U the
care of souls," by the benediction of Bishop \Villiam
of Evreux. Abbot Robert becanle mixed up, about
1063, \vith the factions of the Norman nobles. He
fell under \Villiam's displeasure, and \vas cited to
appear at the Duke's court to ans"'er for certain
crimes of \vhich he \vas accused-falsely, says the
historian of St. Evroul. But l{obert, \vhether guilty
or not, preferred to seek his safety by leaving N or-

vr.]

OF
VILLIAJI.

J .., ..
-)

mandy, and repaired to Rome to lay his case before
the Pope. On this \Villiam, ,,'ithout scruple or hesita-
tion, at once filled up his vacancy. No mention is
made by Orderic of any trial, of any deposition by
ecclesiastical authority. But" the Norman Duke,"
says Orderic, "by the counsel of the venerable
Ansfred Abbot of Préaux, and Lanfranc Prior of
Bec, and other ecclesiastical persons," summoned
Osbern Prior of Cormeilles, and \vithout giving him
any notice, "committed to him the care of the Abbey
of Ouche by the crosier of l\Iaurilius the Archbishop.
in a synod at Rouen. Thence, Hugh Bishop of
Lisieux, by the Duke's order, conducted him to
Préaux, and there, \vithout the kno\vledge of the
monks of St. Evroul, consecrated hin1 abbot, and after-
\vards conducted him to Ouche, and by the Duke's
command set him over the sorro\vful monks. They
\vere in trouble, \vith danger on both sides. For in the
lifetime of their abbot [Robert de Grentmaisnil), \vho
had founded their church and received them to their
estate of monks, and had been driven out, \vithout
reasonable grounds of charge, not by the judgment
of a synod, but by the tyranny of the angry l\Iarquis"
(a piece of rhetoric of Orderic's, for the more com-
mon title of count or duke), "they hesitated to
receive another abbot; and, on the other hand, they
dared not openly refuse him on account of the \vrath
of the Duke. At length, by the advice of Bishop
H ugh, they chose to suffer violence, and voluntarily to
sho\v obedience to the master given them, lest, if they
continued \\"ithout the yoke, they should offend the
po\ver of God, and rouse the ill-\vill of the Duke to
greater violence, to the destruction of the recently

126 E"CCLESIASTICAL ADJIIATJSTR.ATIOJ.V [CHAP.

founded house." The Duke ,vas not able to prevent
the grievous tribulation \vhich fell on the unfortunate
monks from the harrying of their house and lands by
Abbot Robert's kinstllen and friends, or from their in-
ternal dissensions and bitter heart-burnings. He \vas
not able to hinder the scruples anò troubles of con-
science of the ne\v abbot, \vho felt himself an intruder,
and found himself in a nest of hornets. But the Duke
kept him there; and his ans\ver ",hen Robert returned,
backed by papal legates, to reclaim his abbey, ,vas
that straightfonvard declaration \vhich has already
been noticed, that he ,vould gladly confer with the
Pope's messengers about religious tnatters; but that
any monk ,vho questioned his authority at hOtne, he
,vould hang \vithout scruple to the highest tree in
the next \vood. Abbot Robert did not \vait to try
\vhether he \vould be as good as his ,vord. From a
safe distance he cited Osbern, ,vho dared not obey,
to appear before the Roman cardinals, and excom-
municated him. A number of the principal monks
left the monastery to join their late head. Osbern
\vould gladly have resigned, if he had dared; but he
stayed on in fear, and ,vith an unquiet conscience.
The monastery recovered and flourished under him.
Robert in after years ,vas reconciled to \Villiam, but
he could not regain his abbey. And Osbern satis-
fied his o\vn scruples by addressing a letter of apology
and satisfaction to Pope Alexander, "Supreme Head
of the Church on earth;" ,vhile the Pope, by the
advice of Robert himself, made the best of the case,
and, absolving Osbern, left him ,vhere he \vas.
And \vhat \Villiam did \vith unsatisfactory or
troublesome abbots, he ,vas quite as ready to do

VI.]

OF
VILLIAJI.

127

\vith unsatisfactory or troublesome bishops. His
uncle l\lalger, \vhom \Villianl's counsellors in his
boyhood had made Archbishop of Rouen, who had
held the great see \vithout troubling himself about
the Pope's benediction and pall, and who had lived
the life of a n1agnificent noble, given much more to
hunting and cock-fighting than to episcopal duties,
and caring very little about the canons of the Church,
had offended \Villiam. In an age of reviving strict-
ness his manner of life ,vas not edifying. l\Ioreover,
bis brother ,vas the leader of one of the revolts against
vVilliam, and the archbishop \vas accused of encou-
raging the rebellion; finally, in spite of his o\"n laxity,
he thre\v himself strongly into the ecclesiastical oppo-
sition to vVilliam's marriage, and ,ve even hear of ex-
communication either pronounced or threatened by
him. Nevertheless, though in this matter the Pope
,,,as \vith him, and \Villiam had married in spite of the
Pope and the alleged canonical impediment, \Villiam
\\'as too strong for him. Malger ,vas deposed at a council
at Lisieux, at "yhich a papal legate \vas present; and
,vhatever may have been the forms observed, in the
natural language of the \vriters of the tinIe, the act of
deposition is ascribed to \Villiam. It is one of the
puzzles of the confused politics of the Church and
State struggle just beginning, and of our incomplete
information about them, to find a papal legate pre-
siding in one of \Villiam's councils, \vhile \Villiam
\vas still defying the Pope's formal prohibition as
regards his marriage, and helping or allo,ving \Villiam
to depose a great ecclesiastic \\'ho, \vhatever his faults,
had, apparently alone, attempted to enforce that pro-
hibition. But there does not seem to have bëen any-

128 ECCLESIASTICAL AD.l.1fINISTRA TION [CHAP.

thing surprising in it to William's contemporaries and
chroniclers; they relate \vithout remark, as part of the
ordinary course of things, the exercise of his authority
in deposing from Church offices as in appointing to
them. And, independently of custom, \vhich ,vas, in
fact, no,v beginning to be broken into, the reason is on
the surface. William's general policy was thoroughly
in harmony with the resolute and austere spirit of
reform \vhich \vas gaining po\ver in the Norman
Church, and his o,vn feelings to a great extent sym-
pathised with it. Self-\villed, ambitious, and hard as
he ,vas, he hated lawlessness and disorder, and \vith
very sincere purpose ,vent along ,vith the efforts of
the earnest men round him, to purify and strengthen
\vhat th e time understood as religion. He set at
naught ecclesiastical impediments in the ,yay of his
marriage, possibly not very intelligible ones.; he cared
not the more about them, even ,vhen formally declared
by a Pope in council; but fe,v royal husbands
have loved and honoured their ,vives as \Villiam, in
that fierce and licentious age, loved and honoured
IVlatilda. He deposed Archbishop l\Ialger, ,vhose life
,vas scandalous, and ,vho \vas further personally
obnoxious to himself; but he filled his place, once
and again, by men ,vho redeemed the great see of
Rouen from its long shame, and lived as serious
Christian bishops, and not as \vild princes of the
ducal family, \vithout fear and \vithout la\v. " A
prelate of a very different stamp from l\Ialger," says
1\1r. Freeman, "succeeded him on the metropolitan
throne of H..ouen. \Villiam had no\v fully learned
that the high places of the Church could not be
rightly turned into n1ere provisions for the younger

\ I.J

OF T rILLIA A!".

12 9

D1enlbers of sovereign houses. He determined to
give the N onnan Church a thoroughly \vorthy chief
pastor, and in his choice he overlooked all prej udices
of fan1ily, and even of nation. This \villingness to
recognize the claims of merit in strangers from every
land has been already spoken of as one of the marked
features of the Norman national character. The ne\v
primate, l\Iaurilius, \vas a man of foreign birth, \vho
had seen much of various parts of the ,,
orld, and \\'ho
seenlS to have made choice of Normandy as his
adopted country. His career in many respects re-
minds us of that of Lanfranc, \vith this difference, that
the earlier years of Lanfranc \vere spent in a character
\,"holly lay, \vhile Maurilius had first entered the
ecclesiastical calling as a secular priest." He had
spent his life in seeking, in different lands, ne\v
opportunities of religious service; and, in his last
appointment, he left a saintly and venerable nanle,
\yhich did honour to \Villiam's choice. A reformer of
clerical life, a church-builder and restorer, the friend
and adviser of Anselm, he \vas succeeded by men of
the same sort: John, a headstrong and injudicious
champion of discipline, and the gentler \Villiam
" Bonne-âme." Lanfranc, \vho, on the death of
l\laurilius, ,vas ,vished for as his successor by the
Church of Rouen, but not apparen
ly by \Villiam,
,vas possibly denied to Rouen because he \vas
intended for Canterbury.
\Yilliarn's high prerogative in the Church ,vas no
doubt less strange and less unquestioned, because he
\"as so keenly interested in \,'hat \vas supposed to affect
its \yelfare. "Everything," says l\Ir. Freeman, speak-
ing of the \\
ay in \vhich \Villiam's part in a council at
s, L.
. K

13 0 ECCLESIASTICAL AIJJfIJ.YISTRA TIO.J.Y [CHAP.

Rouen for Church discipline is incidentally noticed in
the original account-" everything bears \vitness alike
to the ecclesiastical supremacy of the Norman dukes
and of the personal zeal of \Villiam in all eccle-
siastical matters." There is a kind of indefinite but
very vigorous authority implied in respect to his con-
stitutional position, as if Norman lords and N ornlan
bishops ,vere all of one great household, \vith \Villian1
at their head, taking a paternal oversight of all its
concerns, and keeping eyery member of it up to his
duty. Orderic's ,vay of describing \Villian1's relation
to Ì\vo remarkable assemblies sho".s ho\v natural it
\vas, to those \vho had kno\\ï1 \Villiam, to think of
hin1 as the foremost figure in them, taking the initia-
tive before archbishops and bishops, tracing out their
,york, and \vhether he left it to then1 to do or joined
himself ,vith then1, still \vithout rival the chief au-
thority over them. In 1072, a council purely eccle-
siastical \vas held at Rouen. Its canons relate simply
to tnatters of faith and discipline. But it is thus intro-
duced by Orderic. \Villiam" assenlbled the chief n1en
of Normandy and Le l\Ians, and encouraged them by a
king's ,vord to maintain peace and right. The bishops
and abbots and ecclesiastical persons he admonished
to live ,veIl, to consider \,rell and continually the Ia\v
of God, to take counsel together for the Church of
God, to correct the \vays of those placed under them,
according to the determination of the canons, and all
\vith due care to govern." "Therefore," he proceeds, a
council \vas held in the Cathedral of Rouen by the
archbishop and his suffragans, in ,vhich, after "dis-
cussion on the faith of the Holy Trinity," according
to the received usage in councils, a number of canons

LIBRARY ST. I
\ARY'S COLLE't

YI.]

Or 1 VILLIA JI.

13 1

,,-ere passed. This "'as an ecclesiastical assembly.
Fut that this assen1bly ,,-as held, \vas \Villiam's doing;
and he assigned its objects. In 1080, another as-
sembly of a nlore mixed kind-more resembling
a parlian1ent-\vas held at Lillebonne. Orderic thus
speaks of it: "In the year 1080, IZing \Yillian1 had
his residence at Lillebonne, at \Vhitsuntide, and
thither he commanded Archbishop \Villian1 and all
bishops and abbots and counts, \vith other chief men
of
orn1andy, to COlne together. As the king con1-
nlanded, so \vas it done. Therefore, in the eighth
year of the Pontificate of our Lord the Pope Gre-
gory VI!., a full council \vas held at Lillebonne, and
profitable counsel ,vas taken concerning the state of
the Church of God and of the ,vhole realn1, by the
foresight of the king, \vith the advice of his barons.
But the statutes of the council, as they \vere faithfully
noted do\vn by those present, I ,vill here insert, that
those ,vho come after may learn \vhat sort of la\vs
there \vere in Normandy under \Villiam the king."
The first thing that strikes a reader in these statutes
is their general agreement \vith the objects of the
reforming party in the Norman Church. They enforce
the Truce of God. They enforce clerical continence.
They guard against lay usurpations. The next thing
is, the \vay in \,-hich the king, by himself and his
officers, undertakes to guard and give effect to the
jurisdiction and claim
of the Church. The third
thing is, that the king allo\vs neither layman nor
churchl11an to take the la\v into his o\vn hands; and
\vhile he gives the largest and most liberal scope for
the exercise of the ecclesiastical pO\\Ters, and aIlo\vs
full right to custom, he makes all depend upon the
K 2

132 ECCLESIASTICAL AD.J.11IA T ISTRA TI01\/ [CHAP.

king's sanction; he brings all \vithin the king's eye;
and, \vithout narro\ving or encroaching on the functions
and authority of the bishops, he makes all disputed
matters depend at last on the authorization of the
king's court; he assigns classes of crimes and Inodes
of punishment to be dealt with by the bishops, and
traces the order of particular processes. He acts as
if the general care of the Church, as "Tell as of the
State, \vas committed to him, and it \vas his business
to give to the authorities in each their duly fenced
provinces of \vork, to dra\v firmly the lines bet\veen
their several provinces; and, \vhile granting to each
the fullest po\vers and the amplest countenance, to
allo\v neither to trespass on his neighbour's functions
and rights, or to neglect his o\vn.
\Villiam's ecclesiastical administration is distinctly
characterized by the choice of his chief and confi-
dential adviser. That adviser \vas Lanfranc, teacher
and reformer, restorer of studies, reviver of zeal both
for learning and strictness, theologian, administrator,
diplomatist, statesman; a man thoroughly in earnest
in the cause of religion, but kno\\Ting just ho\v far he
might go; ready for sacrifices, but only ,vhen they
,vere necessary, and not the least inclined to \vaste
them for a trifle: very resolute, and very cautious.
In Lanfranc, ,\;ViIlian1 had a man \vho could tell
hin1 all that anyone of that age could tell him of
\vhat \vas then kno\vn of the history, philosophy, and
literature of the Church and the ,vorld, and of the
actual state of questions, tendencies, and parties in
the stirring ecclesiastical politics of the day. He
could trust Lanfranc's acquaintance ,,'ith his proper
department of kno\vledge; he could trust his honesty

VI.]

OF H7LLIAJ/.

133

and untiring perseverance'; he could trust his good
sense and his \vise sobriety of mind; he could trust
his loyalty the more, because he kne\v that it had
bounds, though \vide ones. For ,vhat seems to have
riveted the connection bet\veen \Villiam and Lanfranc
\vas Lanfranc's perilous boldness in siding at first \vith
the ecclesiastical opposition to \Villiam's marriage;
an opposition ,vhich probably touched his jealousy as
a ruler, and certainly stung him to rage as a husband.
\Yhen he heard that Lanfranc had condemned it, he
ordered not only_ that the Prior of Bec should be
banished from Normandy at once, but that the house
should be punished also; that the home farmstead of
the abbey, or, as it ,vas calied, its "Park," should be
burned and destroyed. The savage order ,vas obeyed.
Lanfranc set out on a lame horse \vhich ,vent on three
legs, for the monks had no better to give hinl, says his
biographer,-unable, as so often ,ye find it in these
,vriters, to resist the joke \vhich mixes \vith their tears
and quotations from Scripture. He met the Duke,
bitter and dangerous in his ,vrath; he saluted hill1,
,;, the lame horse, too, bo\ving his head to the ground at
every step," as the biographer is careful to add. Lan-
franc ,vas sure that if he could only get a chance of.
explaining himself, his case ,vas not desperate. The
Duke first turned a""ay his face; then, "the Divine
mercy touching his heart," he a1l6,ved Lanfranc to
speak. "Lanfranc began," says the story, "\vith a
pretty pleasantry," ,vhich betrays, as SOlne other stories
do, his astute Lombard humour: ", I am leaving the
country by your orders,' he said, 'and I have to go as if
on foot, troubled as I am \vith this useless beast; for I
have to look after him so much, that I cannot get on

134 ECCLESI_4.STICAL ADJII.l\7STR_4. TIO.l.V [CHAP.

a step. So, that I may be able to obey your command

please to give ll1e a better horse.'" The joke took.
The Duke replied in the same strain, that he never
heard of an offender asking for a present from his
displeased judge. So, a beginning being ll1ade, Lan-
franc gained a hearing, and ,vas able to make his
position clear. \VilliaIn ,vas too ,vise a ll1an to thro\v
a,vay lightly an ally like Lanfranc. A cOll1plete
reconciliation and a closer confidence follo,ved. The
dispute about the marriage turned on a matter of
Church la\v ,vhich \Villiam had broken, but ,vhich,
according to the doctrine of the tin1e, the Pope could
dispense ,vith and condone. Lanfranc \vould not agree
even to William breaking such rules at his pleasure;
but he \vould do his best to repair ,vhat could not be
undone, and to make peace bet\veen hin1 and the
Church. He ,vent to ROll1e as \Villialu's repre-
sentative to plead his cause ,,'ith Nicholas II.; he
urged to the Pope that excomll1unication and inter-
dict, ,vhich, it ,vould seem, had been already pro-
nounced, ,vould only \veigh heavy on those \vho
neither had helped the marriage nor could break it;.
and that it ,vas out of the question that \Villiam
,vould ever give up his ,vife. And he prevailed.
\Villiam ,vas allo\ved to h.eep her; but the foundation
of t\VO great Illonastic houses, St. Stephen at Caen, by
\Villiam, the Holy Trinity for ,yornen, by l\iatilda, ,vere
the satisfaction for their offence, and the Il10numents
of the great compromise, bet\veen opponents equally
111atched in detern1ination and self-reliance, \vhich ,vas
the fruit of Lanfranc's mediation. Skilful it un-
doubtedly ,vas; ,vise and justifiable in its n10deration,
-the cause of controversy being ,,,hat it "'as, a 111attcr-

VI.J

OF I VILLIA JI.

135

of positive and arbitrary restriction, and not as many
of these quarrels \vere, matters of morality or of impor-
t
nt principle,-it n1ay be held to have been \vith good
reason. But it \vas the achievement of a statesman,
a judicious and patriotic one; it n1ay be that a saint,
a hero, or a man of plain and straightfonvard sim-
plicity might have done differently-perhaps better;
not irüpossibly \vorse.
But fron1 this 6me, Lanfranc, the representative of
\vhat \vas in those days hopeful progress and serious
care for higher aims, \vas everything to \Villiam.
\Villian1let no n1an be his Inaster. Fron1 every grant
of his confidence he reserved an ample right to judge
for hilllself, to question the recommendations or the
acts of his advisers, to thro\v on them the burden of
making out their case, to put aside their counsel and
act in his o\vn ,yay. This self-assertion and in\vard
loneliness of purpose and judgment, in a man \vho
surrounded himself \vith counsellors and made it all
through life his practice to consult them and refer to
them, is one of \Villian1's striking characteristics. But
no one probably had his heart more thoroughly than
Lanfranc. Lanfranc \vas his chosen means of com-
munication \vith the Roman court. Lanfranc, as
Prior of Bec, appears as his commissioner and adviser
in the troubles of the Inonastery of St. Evroul. He
goes do\vn there \\"ith other churchmen to inquire
into the disputes of the house and to restore peace
and order. It is by his advice that on the refusal of
Abbot Robert to appear before the king's court, and
his flight to Rome, a ne\v abbot is appointed by the
king's authority and maintained in the face of excom-
munication and the Pope's legates. To him, on the

136 ECCLESIASTICAL ADJII1VISTRA TI01Y [CHAP.

eve of the invasion, \Villiam committed the great
Abbey of St. Stephen \vhich he had founded at Caen,
his noble and most characteristic monun1ent, the
memorial of his n1arriage, of his love for his \vifc, of
his inflexible \"ill, and of his readiness, \vhen his
main point \vas gained, to pay a large price for gaining
it, and to accept judicious accomn10dations. To Lan-
franc he turned, \vhen his s\vord had done its \\Tork in
England, for help in quieting it and restoring order,
and to be a balance against the la \vlessness and
licence of his fierce soldiers. The doubtful position
of the English Archbishop of Canterbury made it all
the easier to do, \vhat \Villiam anyho\v \vould ha\.e
had no scruple in doing. The Pope, the legates,
the king's council called Lanfranc to the throne of
Canterbury, and the governn1ent of the English
Church. To Lanfranc \vas the task con1mitted of
doing in the spiritual sphere \vhat \\Tillian1 did in the
political-a task of mingled good and evil purpose,
and good and evil effect; \\.hich involved honest efforts
to restore order, to raise standards, to curb la\vlessness,
to pron10te kno\vledge; \\Thich involved also 111uch
plain and undisguised injustice, n1any harsh and
violent measures, the pred0minance everywhere of
foreigners, almost ahvays unsyn1pathising and rude,
and often shamelessly greedy. Lanfranc's appoint-
Inent and adn1inistration brought the English Church
n10re fully \vithin the circle of \ V estern Christen-
dOl11, \vith its rising spirit of intellectual enterprise;
they also brought it nlore closely \vithin the in-
fluence and under the control of the great ecclesi-
astical monarchy at Ron1e. To Lanfranc \Villiam
left large liberty. The archbishop held synods, and

VI.]

OF IVILLIAJI.

137

introduced the ne\v discipline \vhich N orn1andy had
accepted; replaced English bishops and abbots by
Norn1an ones; dre\v the strings tight of monastic
observance; put do\vn, by force if necessary, monastic
mutinies; stiffly and successfully asserted the rights of
his see, \vhether to canonical superiority against the
Archbishop of York, or to the possession of lands
and manors against one of the strongest of the
N orman spoilers, Odo, Bishop of Bayeux and Earl of
Kent, \Villiam's half-brother. All \vas in the direc-
tion of vVilliam's policy, of \vhat \"as good in it and
\vhat \vas bad; it all helped to\\Tards repressing licence,
to\vards giving hin1 an orderly realm, towards keeping
in check his turbulent nobles; it also helped to excuse
and disguise his hard and unscrupulous rule, to make
England more N orn1an, to crush that English spirit
\vhich had greater and nobler elements in it than that
of the resolute and crafty race \\'ho \vere lords of the
hour. The \vriters of the tin1e speak of Lanfranc as
the depositary of \Villiam's thoughts and plans of
rule: kno\\Ting hin1 \vell enough to do \"hat at first
hearing might offend him, in full confidence of the
po\ver of his o\vn "Tell-considered grounds to justify
his course to a nlaster \vho required reasons; trusted
by William, as \Villiam could not trust his most
loyal barons. "\Vhen \Yillianl sojourned in N or-
mandy," says Lanfranc's biograplier, "Lanfranc \\"as
the chief man and the guardian of England; the
other chiefs being subordinate to hin1, and assisting
him in \vhat concerned the defence and the order and
the peace of the realm, according to the la\vs of the
land." The expressions may be, perhaps, too broad;
but Lanfranc's letters during the rebellion of 1075

138 ECCLESIASTICAL ADJfINISTRA TIOIV [CHAP.

sho\v ho,v inlportant \vas his position, both in \vatch-
ing 111atters in the king's behalf and in discounte-
nancing the rebels, \vhom he excomn1unicated and,
even after their submission, refused to absolve \vithout
\Villiam's leave; and in being a nlediator through
,,,honl the rebels could approach their lord and seek for
reconciliation. Lanfranc, though he felt the dislike
and contemvt of an I tali an turned Norman, for the
language and the \vays of the conquered English, ,vas
not unn1indful of \vhat ,vas due from a churchman,
and especially from a successor of St. Augustin, to his
so-called " barbarian" flock. He took their part, as
far as seen1ed reasonable to him, and in his disputes
they ,,?ere often on his side. But he \vas too ne\v
a ruler, and came too soon after the Conquest, to
identify himself heartily \vith those ,vhom his patron
had conquered and ruled so sternly.
Lanfra
c ,vas an adviser, a 111inister, a faithful,
caln1-judging helper; but the supreme direction, the
ultimate sanction, William kept to himself in all things.
Thus, respectful, even cordial as he \vas in his relations.
\vith the Holy See, ,vith ,vhich he sa\v it to be impor-
tant to connect the Norman Church as \vith the great
centre of civilization, and from \vhich he had sought
and received benediction on the great enterprise of his
life, he had no thought of n1aking his obedience abso-
lute and unconditional. One potentate only of the
time kne\v ho\v to ans\ver Gregory VII. at once \vith
ten1per and resolution; and that \vas William. "H ubert
your legate," he \vrites to the Pope, "coming to Ine on
your behalf, admonished 111e, religious Father, that I
should do fealty to you and your successors; and that,
touching the money ,vhich my predecessors \vere ac-

YI.]

OF l/VILLIAJI.

139

customed to send to the Roman Church, I should take
better order. The one claim I have admitted, and the
other I have not admitted. Fealty I neither have been
,villing to do, nor ,vill I do it no\v, for I never promised it;
and I find not that my predecessors did it to yours. The
money, for three years ,vhile I have been in Gaul, has
been carelessly collected; no\v, ho\vever, that by the
Divine mercy I am returned to my realm, ,vhat has been
gathered is fonvarded by the aforesaid legate, and
the remainder, as soon as there is an opportunity, shall
be sent by the envoys of Lanfranc, our faithful Arch-
bishop. Pray for us and for the state of our realm;
because \ve have loved your predecessors, and you
above all \ve desire to love sincerely, and listen to
obediently." And Gregory, though angry and contemp-
tuous about the money, had to let the matter pass

Lanfranc himself, ,vho probably \vas the actual \vriter
of the king's letter, took the same tone of guarded
respect, but resolute assertion of rights, to the great
and terrible Pope. Gregory \vrote to him by the
same legate, charging hin1 \vith having cooled in his
regard and duty to the Roman Church since his pro-
motion. Lanfranc" neither \vishes nor sought to find
fault \vith the Pope's \vords," but in his conscience he
does not understand ho\v absence or prornotion can
make him less hearty in his submission to the Pope's
commands in all things, "according to the command
of the canons;" and insinuates that it is really the
Pope ,vho has become cool to him. "The ,vords of
your message," he adds, "I, ,vith your legate, to the
best of my po,,'er, recommended to my lord the
king. I urged, but could not persuade. Ho\v far he
in all points has not assented to your ,,,ish, he hin1self

14 0 .ADJIIIYISTRA TIOJ.V OF IVILLIAJf. [CHAP. Yr.

luakes kno\vn to you both by \vord and letter." In
the great contest bet\veen the Pope and the Empire,
\Villiam, and Lanfranc \vith him, though far froin
\\rithdra\ving their recognition of Gregory, and re-
fusing to give any countenance to his rival, spoke
of him in terms \vhich implied the king's right to
form his o\vn judgment and take his o\vn line, if
necessary, in the quarrel \vhich had thro\vn Gregory's
claims into dispute. There is a curious letter of Lan-
franc's to the representative of the Antipope Guibert,
Cardinal Hugo, \vho had tried to get England on his
nlaster's side. "I have received and read your letter,
and some things in it have displeased me. I do not
approve of your vituperating Pope Gregory, and
calling him Hildebrand, and that you give bad
names to his legates, and that you praise up Clement
so extravagantly. For it is \vritten, that in a man's
lifetime he ought not to be praised, nor his neighbour
disparaged. It is as yet unkno\vn to mankind \vhat
they are no,v, and \vhat th ey are to be in the sight of
God. Yet I do not believe that the Emperor, \vithout
great reason, ,vould have ventured to take so grave a
step, nor that \vithout great help from God he could
have achieved so great a victory. I do not recom-
mend your conling to England, unless you first receive
the king's leave. For our island has not yet dis-
o\vned the fornler Pope (Gregory), nor declared its
judgment \vhether it ought to obey the latter. \Vhen
,,-e have heard the reasons on both sides, if it so
happen, \ve shall be able to see 1110re clearly \vhat
ough t to be done."

CHAPTER VII.

CHAKGES AT WILLLUl'S DEATH.

" So fails, so langabhes, grows dim, and dies
All that this world is proud of. From their spheres
The stars of human glory are cast down ;
Perish the roses and the flowers of kings,
Princes and emperors, and the crowns and palms
Of all the mighty, withered and consumed."
"T ORDS\YOR TH, Excursioll, b. vii.

\VHILE the Conqueror lived there \vas government in
the State and the Church. There \vas the strong love
of order, the purpose of improvement, the sense of the
value of la\v, the hatred of anarchy and misrule, and
the firm mind to put them do\vn. vVilliam, \vith
his tender and true heart for his \vife, and recog-
nizing \vith the deference of a great mind and spirit
the combination of kno\vledge and po\ver \vith noble-
ness of character in men like Lanfranc and Anselm,
had little respect and little patience for the people of
his time. His o\"n ambition, ullscrupulous and selfish
as it \vas, ,vas of a higher order than theirs; it \vas
combined \vith a consciousness. of his fitness for the
first place, and the desire of an adequate field for the
exercise of his po\ver to rule. To those \vho put their
o\vn ends or their o\vn \vishes in the \\?ay of his, he
,vas \vithout pity. His great men he \,"ould exalt and

':.-+2

CH.A1VGES AT TVILLIA.LJI'S DEA TEl.

[ CHAP.

enrich, and secure to every man his place; for the
little folk, he \vould nlaintain a due measure of peace
and order; bishops and religious men he \vished to
.see zealous for their great objects, and true to their
high profession, and there ,vere no limits to his help
and countenance ,vhen he thought they ,vere fulfilling
their calling. N arro\v conceptions of government, ,ve
may think; but it ,vas much, in those days of begin-
nings, to have thenl. But \voe to those \vho thought
of th\varting hinl, or having their o\vn ,yay against his!
He kne,v that he lived in a turbulent and dangerous
time, and that there \vere few to trust; and his hand,
to crush or to punish, ,vas swift, heavy, and, in Eng-
land, relentless. Governing an alien race is the trial
and, for the nlost part, the failure of civilized times;
and it ,vas not likely to be easy or successful in his
day, and after a great ,vrong such as he had C0111-
n1itted against Englishnlen. Hard and stern at all
periods of his life, he ,vas cruel and oppressive to\vards
its end, \vhen he became embittered by finding that
the race ,vhich he had ill-treated, and ,vhich he could
:50 little understand, sullenly hated ,vhile it feared
'him. Yet the tyranny of \ Villiam the king \\Tas a
light matter to England, if set against the furious
insolence of his foreign nlilitdry lords, ,vhich he alone
,could keep in sonle order. It ,vas something for the
-country, vexed as it ,vas by the king's demands for
money, and by the greediness of his unscrupulous
administration, that these men at least had son1e one
to be afraid of. As his life dre\v to its close his
temper ,vaxed harsher, his yoke heavier, his craving
for money more insatiable. An old man's value for
a hoard \vas joined \vith an old man's increased care-

VII. ]

CH.rLYGES AT IVILLIrl11I'S D.E
-i TH.

143

lessness for suffering, and the disgust of a conqueror
,vhose ends \vere b.ut half \von and ,vhom success had
not made happy. England had become to him ,,,hat the
Indies ,vere afterwards to Spain, a convenient source
of \\Tealth to be dra,vn upon ,vithout conscience or
mercy. No one can doubt that in the years, dreary and
n1Íserable fronl tempest, murrain and fever, from dearth
and famine, just before his death, his inexorable de-
mands for money, searching the country in every corner
and racking it to the utmost, made England most mise-
rable. Yet the English ,,,riter ,,,ho ,vith incomparable
vigour and pathos describes the '\Tetchedness and
humiliation of his country and the fiscal exactions
and injustice of her foreign king, is the ,vitness also
of the order ,vhich he kept; and records, in the form
\vhich had become proverbial, that the traveller could
pass secure and unharmed through the land ,vith his
bosom full of gold, and that no man n1ight raise his
hand against his neighbour or harm a ,voman, ,vithout
suffering speedy vengeance.
On Thursday, September 9, 1087, \Villiam, the
"famous Baron," died at Rouen. The impression
produced by his death, by the retrospect ,vhich it
invited of his character and ,vonderful fortunes, by
the contrast behveen ,vhat he had been and ,vhat \vas
the end of his greatness, ,vas something deeper and
more solemn than that producetl by the spectacle of
mortality in an ordinary king. In England and in
Normandy, it found expression by the pens of
contemporary ,vriters, ,,,ho enable us to understand
\vith more than ordinary distinctness the overpo,ver-
ing feeling of a,ve and amazement,-partly at his
dreadful strength, so irresistible, yet so controlled

144 CHA1VGES AT IVILLIAJI'S DEATH. [CHAP.

by purpose and \vill, partly at the great instance in
him of the upshot of the greatest sùccess,-caused by
the disappearance of this mighty po\ver from the
scene of human life, \vhere he had been so long the
foremost object. In England a nameless monk, per

haps a bishop, at any rate one \vho had been in his
court and had seen him close, and \vhose vigorous
\vords found their \vay into the 1110nastic chronicles
\vhich \vere yet \vritten in the old English tongue,
thus records his feelings at \Villiam's death. The
passage has been often quoted, but it is difficult to
speak of \Villiam and his end \\Tithout quoting it.
"If anyone \vould kno\v \vhat n1anner of man
King \\Tilliam \vas, or \vhat \vorship he had, and of
ho\v many lands he ,vas lord; then \"ill \ve \vrite of
him as \ye kne\v him, \\"ho looked on him, and once
lived in his court. The IZing \\lillian1 that ,ve speak
of \vas a very wise man, and very great; and n10re
\vorshipful and stronger than any of his foregangers.
He \vas mild to the good men \vho loved God, and be-
yond all measure stern to those ,vho gainsaid his \vili.
On that selfsame place "There God granted him that
he n1ight \vin England, he raised up a great minster,
and set monks therein, and enriched it ,veIl. In his
days \vas the great minster at Canterbury built, and
also very many others over all England. Also this
land he filled \vith monks, and they lived their life
after St. Benedict's rule; and Christendom" (the state
of Christian religion) "\vas such in his days that each
man follo\ved, if he ,,,ould, \vhat belonged to his office.
Also he \vas right \\"orshipful: thrice he \\"ore his
king's helm (cro\vn) each year, so oft as he \vas in
England. At Easter he ,yore it at \Vinchester, at

11.]

CHANGES AT H'ILLIAJI'S DEA TN.

I
5

Pentecost at \ V estminster, at l\Iid\vinter at Gloucester.
And there ,vere ,vith him all the great men over aU
England, archbishops and bishops, abbots and earls,
thanes and knights. So he \vas also a right stern
man and a hasty; so that men durst not do anything
against his ,viII. He had earls in his bonds ,vho
did against his \vilI. Bishops he set off their bishop-
rics, and abbots off their abbacies, and thanes in
prison; and at last he spared not his o\vn brother,
called Odo: he ,vas a very great bishop in N or-
mandy: at Bayeux ,vas his see; and he \\'as the
chief of men next to the king. And he had an earl-
dom in England, and \vhen the king \vas in N or-
mandy, he \\"as mightiest in this land. And him did
he set in prison. Among other things it is not to be
forgotten the good peace that he made in this land;
so that anyone man, that himself \vere aught, might
fare over his realn1 \\"ith his bosom full of gold,
unhurt: and no man durst slay another man, had this
one done ever so m
ch evil to the other: and if any
man harmed a \yoman, he \vas punished accordingly.
He ruled over England; and \\-ith his craftiness so
looked it through, that there \\-as not one hide \vithin
England, that he learned not \vho had it, or \\That it
\vas \\Torth; and then he set it in his ,vritten book.
The Britons' land \vas in his rule, and he made castles
therein, and the people of l\Ian, \vith all authority; so
also Scotland he brought under him by reason of his
great strength. The Norman land \yas his inherit-
ance; and over the earldom \vhich is called of l\Ians
he ruled; and if he might have lived yet t\VO years,
he had \von Ireland by his policy and \vithout any
\\"eapons. Surely in his time men had much tra-
s. L. x. L

I
6

CH_4.l\TGES AT JVILLIAltf'S DEA TH.

[CHAP..

vail, and very many sorrO\\TS; castles he had built,
and poor men he made to toil hard. The king ,vas
so very stern: and he took of the men under his rule
many a mark of gold, and n10re hundred pounds of
silver. That he took, both by right, and also ,vith
much unright, of his people, and for little need; he
,vas fallen on covetousness: and greediness he loved
altogether. He made great deer-chases, and there-
,yith laid do\vn la\vs, that ,,,hoso sle\v hart or hind,
he should be blinded: he forbad [to touch] the
harts and so also the boars; so much he loved the
'high deer,' just as if he ,vere their father. Also he
a ppoin ted concerning the hares, that they n1igh t go
free. His great men complained of it, and the poor
men murmured; but he ,vas so stiff, that he reeked
naught of them all, and they must altogether

" , Follow the king's will
If they would live, or have land-
-Land or goods, or eyen a quiet life.
'Vala wa ! that any man should so be proud,
Should so lift himself up, and reckon himself above all men.
The Almighty God show to his soul mercy,
And grant him for his sins forgiveness.'

This thing ,ve have ,,,ritten concerning him, both the
good and the evil: that good men may follo,v after
their goodness, and altogether forsake ,vickedness;
and go in the ,yay that us ]eadeth to the kingdon1 of
heaven."
In Normandy, Orderic, the man ,vho shared in a
remarkable n1anner both English and N orn1an feelings,
preserved the recollections of Normandy about the
end of the greatest of the Normans: ".hat ,vere
supposed to be the thoughts of the last hours of his

VII.]

CHA1VGES AT lrILLIAJI'S DEA TH.

147

life; ho\v he must have looked back on its strange
passages and judged of them then; and ho\v little
his greatness could save him from the anguish and
bitterness of his n10rtal condition, and even from
its 1110st loathsome humiliations. His account, as
usual, is very rhetorical, and full of the pedantry
,vhich all ages are apt to n1istake for fine \vriting.
He puts a long speech into \Villiam's mouth, full of
curious bits of history, but as unlike as it \vell
could be, in form and manner, to any discourse that
\Villiam can be supposed to have held ,,,hen he ,vas
dying. But that he spoke Inuch, and spoke in the
sanle kind of sense as Orderic reports, there is no
reason for doubting. Orderic not only represents
the tales ,,,hich went about at the time in the cloisters
of the ne\\rs-Ioving monks, but probably had heard
the story from the mouth of some of the church-
men \vho \vere about \Villiam's death-bed, such as
Gilbert l\Iaminot, the scientific and almost \\'izard
bishop of Lisieux, \Villiam's chief physician, and
the diocesan of St. Evroul. 'It is even not improbable
that Orderic's long oration represents not merely the
general feeling of the dying king, but also, from the
"ray in \vhich Orderic Ì\\rice d\\-ells on the vigour
\vith "rhich he \vas able to use his faculties and his
speech to the last, that it stands for the full and
frequent discourse \vhich he had \yith his attendants,
and that it en1bodies various portions of ,,,hat he
said to them. It exhibits him going over in memory,
from its hard and stormy beginnings, his long
and eventful career; his sense of his o"'n offences
against God and against those \vho had suffered from
his anlbition ; his sense of the falseness and ingratitude
L 2

Lt.8

CHAJ\TGES AT IVILLIAJ['S DEATH.

[ CHAP.

of n1en, and his stern ,yill, unshaken by the approach
of death, to deal to them their c1eserts. In its ten1per,
it is at any rate very like \Villiaf\l. It is the language
of a man a\ved and hun1bled, in all severe truth and
seriousness, before the supreme goodness and the
supren1e justice, and, in n1easure, before those ,,,ho
on earth reflected it: but not afraid, even \vhen feel-
ing himself going to judgment, to pass judgment
to the uttermost against the ,vickedness ,vhich he
had hated on earth, though his o,vn hands ,vere not
clean from it, and not shrinking from calling to mind
his counterbalancing good deeds; his care for the
cause of religion ; his freedom from the great crilne
of the age, selling the dignities of the Church for
money; his desire to put fit persons into her high
offices; his love of good men; the houses of prayer
and devotion "Thich he had founded or helped. T'he
friend of Lanfranc, the founder of St. Stephen's, is
not unlikely to have looked back in this spirit on
his chequered course, full of dark passages of ,,'rong
and blood, but full also of serious efforts to follo\v
after ,,,hat he believed to be the light.
To the last, \Villiam, in spite of the agony of his
disease, \vas able \vith clear mind, and ,vith speech that
failed not, to communicate his thoughts, his ,,'ishes,
and his advice to those about hin1. At early da\\Tn
on the 9th of September, from the abbey of St. Ger-
vais outside of Rouen, ,,,hither he had been carried
to be out of the noise of the city, he heard the
great bell sound of the cathedral. He asked ,,"hat it
meant, and he ,vas told that the bell ,\Tas going for
prime in St. Mary's Church. "Then the king raised
his eyes to heaven and, stretching out his arms, com-

YII.]

CHANGES AT TVILLIAJI'S DEATH.

149

n1ended himself to his Lady, l\Iary the holy mother
of God, that she by her holy intercession ,,"ould
reconcile him to her dear Son, Christ; and he at once
expired." The physicians ,vho had ,,-atched him all
night, lying quiet \vithout any sound of pain, ,vere
taken by surprise by the suddenness of his passing
a,\"ay, and" became almost out of their mind." Then
follo\yed scenes, \vhich sho\yed the change that ,vas
con1ing. His attendants, bishops, and religious men,
and probably some of his family and his barons, at
once n10unted their horses, and hurried off to look
to the safety of their lands and houses. The servants,
seeing that their betters had gone, stripped the de-
serted house, and the very corpse of the dead, of
all that they could lay hands upon, and made off
"like kites" \vith their prey. The "J usticer" ""as
dead, and the felons took their first revenge and
first used their liberty, by despoiling him \vho had
been their chastiser and dread. The story ,vas told
and believed that \Villiam's death ,vas announced
at Ron1e and in Calabria among those ,vhom he had
banished, on the day of his death at Rouen; and
Orderic sees in it the joy of the Evil One, conveying
the ne\vs to the po\vers of violence and la \vlessness,
that their great enemy \vas no more. But at Rouen,
for three hours all \yere thunderstruck, and no one
dared to COIne near the place "There the dead king
lay, forsaken and almost naked. "0 magnificence
of the ,vorld," cries Orderic, "ho\v ,,"orthless thou
art, and ho\v vain and frail: like the rain bubbles
of the sho\\"er, s\\"ollen one moment, burst into nothing
the next. Here ""as a most mighty lord, ,vhom
more than a hundred thousand ,,"arriors just no\\"

150 CHAJ.VGES AT IVILLIAJ.1I'S DEATH.

[CHAP.

eagerly served, and before \vhom nlany nations feared
and trell1bled; and no\v, by his o\vn servants, in a
house not his o\vn, he lies foully stripped, and fro III
the first to the third hour of morning is left deserted
on the bare floor. The to\vnsmen of Rouen, when
they heard the ne\vs, \vere amazed, and lost their
senses like drunken men; they could not have been
more troubled if there had been a host of enemies
at their gates. Everyone rose up from the place
where he \vas, and sought counsel \vhat to do from
his "\vife or his friend, or the acquaintance he met
with on the ,yay. Each man moved, or prepared to
move his goods, and in his panic hid them \vhere
they might not be found."
The strong king \vas dead; po\verless to guard
or to punish; and it \vas no\v every man for hin1self.
The clergy of Rouen at last collected their senses,
and came in procession to pay the last offices to
their king. William Bonne-Arne, the Archbishop,
ordered the body to be taken for burial to the minster
at Caen. But it seems that Willianl Bonne-Arne,
the king's chosen Archbishop, spoken of as a model
of goodness, did not feel himself bound to provide
the means of transport. Perhaps Orderic only re-
peats the gossip of the cloister of St. Evroul; but
Orderic says that "the king's brethren and kindred
had departed from him, and they and his servants had
\vickedly left him, as if he \vere but a barbarian.
And there was not one of all his vassals to care for
his buria1." \Vhy not the Primate of Normandy,
the Archbishop \vhom \Villiam had honoured and
exalted, in his o\vn city? But as the Bishop of
Lisieux had deserted his king's corpse and fled to his

VII.]

CH.Al\TGES AT H7LLIAJI'S DEA TH.

I5 I

()\vn house, so it seems that it \vas no business of the
Archbishop of Rouen to transport the body to Caen
for burial. I t ,vas left to a certain " country knight"
named Herhvin, ,vho \vas "touched ,,,ith natural
goodness, and \vho, for the love of God and the honour
of his race, like a man" took the duty on him. He,
at his o\vn charges, hired those \\'ho prepared the body
for burial and \vho \vere to carry it to the grave; and
putting it on board a ship, he carried it round to Caen.
To the last, the same dark shado\v lo\vers over the
end of the great king. Orderic relates ho\v, as the
funeral entered Caen, a terrible fire broke out, and
the clergy alone \vere left to conduct the body to the
l\Iinster of St. Stephen. At least the funeral office
might be expected to correspond to his greatness
If the lords and captains, and chief estates of N or-
mandy ,,,ere not there, the leaders of the Norman
Church had assembled round the bier of their pro-
tector. Orderic recites their names: \Villiam of Rouen,
Gilbert of Evreux, Gilbert of Lisieux, l\1ichael of
A vranches, Geoffrey of Coutances, Gerard of Séez, and,
only just released fron1 his captivity on the I(lng's
death-bed, and released ,vith the deepest reluctance
and misgiving, Odo, the king's half-brother, Bishop
of Bayeux and Earl of IZent. There, too, came the
abbots of the famous monasteries, almost as great
persons as the bishops; AnselI!1 of Bec, \Villiam of
Fécamp, Gerbert of Fontanelle, Guntard of J umiéges,
l\Iainer of St. Evroul, Fulk of Dives, Durand of
Troarn, Robert of Séez, Osbern of Bernay, Roger of
l\Iount St. l\Iichael in the Peril of the Sea; and those
of the great houses of Rouen, St. Ouen, and the
l\Iount of the Holy Trinity. The" Great Gilbert,"

I .."
)-

CH.A.1VGES AT IVILLIAJ/'S DEATH.

[CHAP.

Bishop of Evreux, made an eloquent oration, in
\vhich he set forth the magnificence of the king;
ho\v he had extended the bounds of Normandy;
ho,v he had exalted his nation more than all his
predecessors had done; ho,v he had kept peace and
justice in all his dominion; ho\v he had chastised
thieves and robbers ,vith the rod of la\v; ho\v, by the
s\vord of valour, he had stoutly guarded clergy and
monks and the defenceless folk. He ended ,vith
many tears, beseeching the people, in the love of
God, that, since no nlortal man can live here \vithout
sin, they ,\Tould intercede for him to the Alrnighty
God; and that, if in aught the dead had offended
thern, they \vould forgive him. The call \\"as ans"'ered.
" Then stood up Asceline, son of Arthur, and, ,,,ith a
loud voice in the audience of them all, put for\\Tard
this complaint: 'The ground on "ohich you stand
\vas the place of nlY father's house, \\Ohich this man,
for \vhom you make request, \vhen he \vas yet Count
of Normandy, took a\vay from my father by violence,
and, utterly refusing justice, he by his strong hand
founded this church. This land, therefore, I claim, and
openly den1and it back; and in the behalf of God I
forbid the body of the spoiler to be covered ,vith the
sod that is mine, and to be buried in my inheritance.' "
On the spot the claim ,vas investigated and ackno,v-
ledged; and, before the body could be lo\vered into the
stone coffin, a bargain ,vas struck for the grave, and
the ground round it. But the miseries of the scene
"Tere not yet ended. "The debt \\Tas paid, the price
of that narro\v plot of earth, the last bed of the
Conqueror. Asceline \vithdre,v his ban; but as the
s\vollen corpse sank into the ground, it burst, filling

VII.]

CHA1'?GES A T ll
ILLIA.JI'S DEA TrI.

153

the sacred edifice \\"ith corruption. The obsequies
\\'ere hurried through, and thus \vas \Villiam the
Conqueror gathered to his fathers, \vith loathing,
òisgust, and horror." 1
,. Behold!" \vrites Orderic, "I have \vith care in-
quired and \vith truth related \vhat, in the Duke's
fall, \\"as pointed out beforehand by God's ordering
hand. It is no fancy tragedy that I am palming
off; I am not courting the laughter of idlers by
the quaint speeches of a comedy; but to thought-
ful readers I present the reality of change and
chance. In the midst of prosperity, disasters ap-
peared, that the hearts of men on earth might
fear. A king once mighty and \varlike, the terror
of n1any people in many countries, lay naked on
the ground, deserted by those \vhom he had
nourished up. He needed borro\ved money íor his
uneral; he needed the help of a con1n10n soldier
to provide a bier and bearers of it, he \\"ho had, up to
that mon1ent, such a superfluity of riches. Past a to\vn
in flames, he \"as carried by frightened men to his
minster; and he \vho had ruled over so many cities
and to\\"ns and villages, \\"anted a free spot of earth,
that \vas his 0\\"11, for his burial. . . . Rich and poor
are alike in their lot: both are a prey to death and
the \vorm. Put not, then, your trust in princes,
\vhich are nought, 0 ye sons of men; but in God, the
Living and the True, \vho is the T\Iaker of all. Con-
sider the train of things in the Old and the Ne\v
Testament, and there take for yourselves exaInples
\vithout number of \vhat to avoid and "'hat to desire.
T rust not in ""rong and robbery, and desire not the
1 Sir F. ralgr:lve.

154

CHA.l.VGES AT I,VILLIAJI'S DEATH.

[ CHAP.

fruit of violencc. If riches increase, set not your
heart upon them. For all flesh is grass, and all the
glory of it as the flo\ver of the grass. The grass
withereth, and the flo\ver thereof fadeth a\vay; but
the ,vord of the Lord end ureth for ever."
Orderic concludes \vith a sermon. But had he not
indeed a text; and is his sernlon more than the
thought ,vhich \vould rise of itself in all hearts at
such a spectacle?
The reign of strength ,vas over; the reign of insolent
la\vlessness and brute force began. Robert of Belesme,
the head in Norman
y of the fierce house of Talvas,
the rival of that of Rollo, \vas entering Brionne on his
\vay to the king's court at Rauen, \vhen the tidings
met him. At once he turned his horse, and riding to

I\lençon, expelled from the castle the garrison \vhich
kept it for the king. He did the same at Belesme,
and seized or destroyed all the holds of his \veaker
neighbours. Other lords in the south-east, rivals or
enemies, follo\ved his example. vVilliam, Count of
Evreux, turned out the royal garrison from the
" donjon" of the castle. \Villiam of Breteuil, and
Ralph of Conches, and all the strong hands round,
seized each all the fortified posts \vithin reach; that
u each might freely carryon his execrable quarrels
.against his neighbour and the d\veller next hin1.
Then the chief men of Nornlandy drove out all
the J{ing's guards from their strongholds, and vicà
\vith one another in spoiling \vith their o\vn hands
a country abounding in ,vealth. And so the riches
\vhich they had torn by violence from the English
and other nations, they lost, as they deserved, by
their own robberies and plunderings an10ng them-

VII.]

CHANGES AT r"rILLIAJI'S DEA T1l.

155

selves." It ,vas a foretaste of ,vhat \vas coming,
though in different \vays in England and Normandy.
That break-up of society to \vhich military feudalism
\vas ahvays tending-that dispersion of po\ver from a
central authority among a cro,vd of fierce and greedy
soldier chiefs, plotting, robbing, destroying, fighting
each man for himself; the substitution of arbitrary
\vill not only for la\v but for custom; the dissolution
of all ties of duty and faith, of all restraints \vhich
held men back from the \vild savageness and appetites
of beasts-came upon the lands over ,vhich the great
Conqueror had ruled. He had kept the anarchy of his
generation at bay; he had shamed and co,ved its
licence. His serious and severe tenlper, his iron hand,
his instincts Qf kingly greatness, the countenance
\vhich he had given so conspicuously to
hat religion
,vhich, hard, narro\v, imperfect as it might be, carried
\vith it a \veight ,vhich the age could understand on
the side of self-conquest, of obedience to a rule of
life, of peace and industry, of the belief in an ideal of
human nature superior to material things, of the con-
viction of human brotherhood, and faith in divine
charity, had for the time accustomed his realms to a
state of things in \vhich something \vas paramount,
\vhich, if it ,vas not yet la\v, \vas stronger than dis-
order. Under him turbulence \vas dangerous and
unprofitable, and riot \vas unfashionable. N o,v the
curb ,vas taken away; and it ,vas soon made evident
,,,hat the Conqueror's governnlent, uneasy and harsh
as it ,vas, had kept down, and from \vhat he had
saved his su bj ects.
The great po\ver \vhich he had founded fell apart,
.at least for a time, at his death. The succession to

15 6 CHA1VGES AT lrI LLIAllI'S DEA TH. [CHAP.

Normandy had long been pledged to his eldest son
Robert. Vicious and unruly, he had been his father's
enemy and scourge: but he had a strong party in
N orn1andy; Orderic n1akes \Villian1 say that the
n1ajority of the barons had ackno,vledged him; his
father left him Normandy, to be misgoverned and
ruined; but he ,vould not give him England. Eng-
land, he said, according to Orderic's report, God had
given to him; it had not come to him by hereditary
right in the same ,yay as the Duchy; and as it had
been given to him, he dared not give it; he only
,vished and hoped that his second son \Villiam might
have it : and he sent him a,vay to England bearing
a letter to the Archbishop Lanfranc, asking for his
aid to make \Villiam king. He \yas ,vithout difficulty
ackno\vledged in England, and consecrated by Lan-
franc at \\T estminster before the month \vas out in
"rhich his father died. Henry, the youngest and
the ablest, ,vas left \vith a large treasure in money,
to bide his time.
The ungovernable \vildness of the old barbarian
stock of the Pirate Sea Kings seemed to have
revived in the t\vo eldest sons. In Robert it sho\ved
itself in alternating fits of fierce energy and lazy
torpor and exhaustion, like the succession of \vakeful
ferocity ,,'ith slumberous inactivity in a \vild animal.
In \Villiam all was ,vakefulness. He had all his father's
force of character, his father's ,vary boldness, his
father's terrible inflexibility of "'ill, his father's vigour
and decision and rapidity in action; but ,vithout those
perceptions of right, that feeling after something better,
that deep though confused respect for goodness, that
living though often clouded fear of God, ,vhich had

\Ir.]

CHALYGES AT l/VILLIAJI'S DEATH.

157

given \vhatever nobleness it had to his father's royalty.
Imagine the Conqueror \vithout his aversion to the
confusion and anarchy \vhich he made it his task to
quell,-imagine hin1 blind to the great intellectual
and religious movement in Normandy \"hich \vas
embodied and typified in Lanfranc,-inlagine him
\vithout his passionate faithfulness to his \vife ;-and
his triumph, supported by ability at the time un-
equalled, \vould have been a reign of \vickedness
and horror to \vhich the actual n1iseries of his rule,
even the laying \vaste of the North and the nlurder
of Earl \Valtheof, \\"ould have seemed light in con1-
parison. These nlake\veights to the Conqueror's
unscrupulousness and hardness 'were taken a\vay in
his son; and \ve have the king \vho reigned in his
stead.
In another point, also, they \vere a contrast. The
Conqueror \vas austere and his court a grave one.
.i\.ccording to a reaction often seen, \ Villiam the Red
turned \vith revengeful disgust against the solen1n
,vays and speech of his father's household, in ,vhich
doubtless he had seen many hypocrisies, and broke
out into reckless and ostentatious mockery of the
restraints and beliefs of the time. The decorum
,vhich had been in fashion gave place in him to a
nc\v fashion of shameless licentiousness \vhich seemed
to aÏIn at affronting and defying \\'Ì'iat \vas most sacred
and reyered. Unmarried, he shocked by his profligacy
an age \vhìch \vas accustonled to la\vlessness of all
kinds; and a noisy openness of speech and boisterous
and riotous merriment, ,,,hich made a very distinct
impression on observers round him, partly relieved,
and partly masked, as is not seldom the case, the

15 8

CHANGES AT lVILLIA

I'S DEATH.

[ CHAP.

keen shre\vdness and craft, and the pitiless selfish-
ness, of the real man beneath.
Yet the difference at first sight seems small bet\veen
the father's rule and the son's. The father \vas un-
scrupulous and oppressive; the son could comn1and like
his father. He crushed rebellion as effectually; he
hung \vithout mercy thieves and felons; no man, says
Orderic, as he might have said in his rhetorical eulogy
of the Conqueror, dared mutter a \vord against him.
The crown of England \vas as safe in the Red I{ing's
keeping, and as much feared by its subjects and its
neighbours, as it had been in his father's time. \Vhat
then made the difference bet\veen the t\VO royalties,
oUÌ\vardly so like? It \vas the incipient order, the
faint half-conscious preludes of civilization, the sense
of something higher than force, the purpose, ho\v-
ever din1, of maintaining right, \vhich \vere present
in the Conqueror's notions of kingship, and \vhich
disappeared for the time under vVillian1 "the Red.
The beginnings of moral elevation under the father
\vent back under the t\VO elder sons to the n10re naked
and undisguised selfishn ess common in all ages to
men \vho think that po\ver is in their hands to do \vhat
they like \vith, and natural especially to an untaught
and untrained stage of political life \vhich is painfully
and \vith many relapses en1erging fron1 barbarisn1. In
Normandy all ,vas anarchy under the indolent and reck-
less Robert; in England all \vas po\verful and vigilant
tyranny under his formidable and ambitious brother:
but both had lost that \vhich had prevented their
father's rule from being confounded ,vith the C01l1mOn
self-\vill and violence of the kings 'and princes of his
time, and had given him his best clailn to greatness.

\'11.]

CHAJ\
GES AT H'ILLIAflf'S DEA TH.

159

In Norn1andy, as has been said, the elements of
disorder broke loose at once, and there ,vas no hand
to check them. But in England, ,vhere William the
Red had been accepted and consecrated as an English
king at \Vestminster, and had given the solemn pro-
mise of an English king to maintain right and peace,
turbulence, the turbulence of the foreigners, found
its master. There ,vas one keen and decisive trial
of strength bet\veen \ Villiam and the fierce Norman
lords ,vho looked upon England as their prey. Odo
the ,varrior-bishop of Bayeux 'vas no sooner released
from his prison than he ,vas at the head of a great
confederacy of the strangers to conquer back Eng-
land for the Duke of Normandy and his la,vless
and greedy soldiers. Odo, once the greatest man
next the king, had met ,vith a rival in Lanfranc.
He had contended \vith Lanfranc for lands and for
influence: to Lanfranc's counsel his imprisonment "ras
ascribed. That Lanfranc had cro\vned \ Villiam and
,vas his adviser \\yould be a reason \vith Odo for
urging Robert to invade England. But \Villiam
could guard his o\vn. The English \vere \"ith him
and fought for him. London \vas \vith hinl, and
IZent. He had the hearty support of Lanfranc and
W olfstan; of the foremost of the foreign churchn1en,
of the saintliest of the English. And his triumph
,vas rapid and complete. He" as king at home;
not indeed \vithout outbursts of hostility and dis-
affection in the \\T elsh and Scottish march-lands, or
an10ng the Norman lords in distant N orthulnberland;
but \Villiam's rapid energy and decision easily foiled
them: his State \vas never in danger after the first
trial of strength; and henceforth his thoughts '\Tere

160

CHA.LVGES AT IVILLIAJI'.s DEATH.

[ CH_-\.P.

given to carrying out his vengeance and extending
his po\ver abroad. His reign began \vith hope. He
had promised to be an English king, just, merciful,
and true: he had fought \vith Englishmen for his
soldiers against insolent and traitorous" Frenchmen,"
and had triumphed: he had the great Lanfranc,
his father's friend and counsellor, from \vhose hand
he had received knighthood and then the cro,vn, the
illustrious stranger, \vho reluctantly, yet ,,'ith sin-
cerity, had taken part \vith the English people, to
be his adviser and supporter. But the hope soon
passed. In the year after the Red I{ing's coronation
Lanfranc follo\ved his great master to the grave;
and then, \vhat Lanfranc had been to the father,
that, to the son - the soul of his counsels, the
minister of his policy, the suggester and instrument
of his deeds-,vas the lo\v-born N onnan priest, . the
scandal, amusement, and horror of his age, Ranulf
or Ralph, nicknamed Flambard, the Firebrand. The
difference bet\veen the two reigns is expressed in
the contrast bet\veen Lanfranc and Ralph Flambard.
Flambard \vas one of a class of churchmen \vho \\'ere
characteristic of a lo\v and irnperfect stage of civiliza-
tion, and \vho passed a\vay \\Tith it. They are not to
be confounded \vith the statesmen-ecclesiastics of the
middle and later ages \vho, \vhatever ,,'e think of
them, must b
judged of on very different principles,
Becket, \\T olsey, Ximenes, \vere statesmen, because to
a great churchman all hun1an interests \vere thought
to belong of right, and he ,vas not going out of his
high and comprehensive sphere \vhen he handled
then1. The ideal at least \vas a great one, ho\vever
it at last failed in practice, \vhich made those ,,'ho

VII.]

CI-fAl\TGES AT vVILLIA3I'S DEATH.

r6r

are charged \vith man's highest la\vs and concerns, the
companions and yokefellows of kings, the guides
of earthly government, the arbiters of the policy of
nations, the interpreters of the \vants and aims of
society. But these men, though they united the
priest \vith the statesman, and often did so to the
gre2
t hurt of one or other character, and sometimes
of both, never forgot their churchmanship. But the
other order of men, of whom Ralph Flambard \vas
a typical instance, simply merged and lost their
ecclesiastical functions in their secular business, and
used their clerkship to make themselves more
serviceable instruments of administration and tools
of po\ver. The feudal house or 111eis1ley of the
eleventh century had its military family and its
clerical fa mily-one for hand-\vork, the other for head-
work; both equally portions of the royal or baronial
court, and one as indispensable as the other. The
clerics, most of them in orders but not all priests,
did all the writing, account-keeping, la\v business,
all that had to do 'with estate agency or the do-
mestic economy; they furnished, besides the mass-
priests and chaplains, the secretaries, chancellors,
attorneys, "purveyors," and clerks of the kitchen.
They were by no means useless, all of them. The work
\vhich is no\v done in the Exchequer, the Treasury,
the offices of Chancery, by the Boards of Revenue
and Customs, by the la\v officers of the Cro\vn, by
the departn1ents of Public \V orks and Cro\vn Domains,
the business of public accounts and state correspon-
dence, \vas mostly in the hands of these men; and
their ,york \vas by no means ahvays ill done. They
had among them the contriving þrains, the quick pens,
s. L. x. 1\1

162

CHANGES AT WILLIAAl'S DEATH.

[ CHAP.

the calculating heads of their time; they had the
financial inventiveness, the legal resource, the busi-
nesslike coolness, necessary for their \vork. The
finance and the office routine of the age ,vere rude,
but they \vere begin,pings; and though much in them
\vas blundering, and, ,vhat \vas \vorse, corrupt and op-
pressive, \ve are even no\v in many things beholden to
these early clerical pioneers of Englis;h administration.
But of all conceivable employments and functions, it
is difficult to imagine any that less suit a man invested
\vith Christian orders.
But there \vere differences arllong them, and Ralph
Flambard \vas one of the \vorst specimens of the \vorst
kind of the class. The accounts \vhich remain of him
are so unanimous, so distinct, so consistent, and reflect
such deep indignation and scorn, that \ve feel that \ve
have to be on our guard in judging of a man so
detested both in Normandy and in England. Gossip
greedily gathers round an unpopular name; about his
parents, about his first steps in life, about the early
tokens of an evil bent and readiness for mischief, of
audacity, craft, servile suppleness; such stories may be
but the gro\vth of later hatred, and must be taken
,vith allowance
or the feelings of \vhich they are the
evidence. There is no reason, ho\vever, to doubt the
accuracy of the portrait, dra\vn probably by those
\vho had seen him, of his n1anners and qualities; of a
n1an \vithout education, but with much mother-\vit
and boundless fluency of tongue; coarse, impudent,
cunning, boisterous, a forn1idable bully, a ready
111ocker, free in his loud banter and noisy horse-
laughs. But what is certain is this :-that Ralph
Flambard being a cþurchman, and rising to the high

VII,]

CHANGES AT IVILLIAJf'S DEATH.

16 3

dignities of the Church, deliberately set himself not
only to plunder but to injure and degrade the Church;
that, uniting in his o\vn person the chief management
of the revenue and the administration of justice, he
\vas the thorough-going and unscrupulous minister
of a policy of fiscal \vrong and oppression such as
\vas never in England; that he \vas the prompter and
instrument of a system of barefaced and daring
venality \vhich set everything in Church and State
to sale. In a reign in ,vhich legal chicane \vas
placed at the service of greedy violence, and the land
racked to furnish means to the vast ambition of a
king \vho yet seemed to have no other end in ruling
but to have all human rights under his feet, Ralph
Flam bard \vas the soul of his counsels, the man on
,,,hose quick \vit and fearless hand, and bold and over-
bearing tongue, the king relied to outface the opposi-
tion and scandal \vhich his outrages provoked, and to
find ne\v means to replenish a treasury \vhich his per-
sonal manner of life and his ambitious political schcl11es,
in \vhich bribes played as important a part as his ,var-
like qualities, ,vere continually emptying. Of this rule,
so ignoble in purpose, and as barren of all \vholesome
fruit of government as that of a rapacious Roman
Prætor or a Turkish Pacha \vho has bought his pro-
vince-a rule redeemed from ignominy only (if that
be a redemption) by its merciless strength-Flambard
\vas the civil representative. Of ,vhat it \vas in point
of la\v, of "9hat it was in respect for justice and \vish
to elevate and improve, he is the measure. The charge
that Orderic brings against him in his dealing \vith
secular property, of tampering \vith the measurements
and valuations of Doomsday, and subverting the old
l\1 2

1 6 4

CHA1YGES AT TVILLIAllI'S DEATH.

[CHAP.

English understanding of the quantities and rents of
estates for the benefit of the Treasury, might be sus-
pected of exaggeration-the usual exaggeration of the
tax-payer \vhen the rights of the revenue are sharply
looked after-\\Tere it not certain that, in a case \vhere
there \vas no room for mistake, in his treatment of
church property, Flarnbard did not stop at the most
flagr-ant and high-handed \vrong. That the king
should keep great church offices vacant silnply that
he might seize and appropriate their revenues, is a pro-
ceeding which does not adu}it of being overcoloured ;
it is simple and intelligible; it is exactly of the same
kind as any other sort of robbery. And this "'as the
great financial invention devised by Flambard. \Vhen
a bishop or abbot died, the king's officer-Flambard
hirnself \vhen, as at Canterbury, the dignity ,vas great
enough--entered on the property, and kept it for the
king's use as long as he pleased. After Lanfranc's
death the see of Canterbury ,vas vacant for more than
three years, and its rents were taken possession of by
the king. They 'vere again seized \vhen Anselm left
England, and remained in the king's hands for three
years more, till his death. \Vhen he fell in the N e,v
Forest he held, besides the lands of Canterbury, those
of Winchester and Sarum, and eleven abbeys besides.
The minister of all this iniquity had to go through
the ups and do\vns of such a career of adventure.
\tVilliam the Red made him Bishop of Durham. His
brother's first act on succeeding to the cro,vn ,vas to
imprison Flanlbard in the To\ver. He escaped by
making his guards drunk; and the manner of his
escape, and ho,v the "fat prelate," sliding do,vn the
rough rope \vhich \vas not long enough to reach the

VI!.]

CHANGES AT I,VILLIAlk/'.s DEATH.

16 5

ground, scraped off the skin from his hands, and
finished \vith a heavy tumble at the end, became one
of the good stories of the time. He came to N or-
Inandy, and, in the anarchy under Duke Courtehose,
quartered himself at Lisieux, where Bishop Gilbert
Maninot the astrologer, the Conqueror's old friend
and physician, had just died. Flambard got the
bishopric for his brother Fulcher; on his death he
held it three years for his o\yn son, a child of t\velve
years old, \vith the promise from the Duke, that if this
boy should die, the bishopric should go to another
son; then, ,yhen the outcry against this arrangement
became too strong, he got the bishopric for one of his
creatures, who ,vas turned out of it for his simoniacal
bargain \vith the Duke. Finally, \vhen the battle of
Tinchebrai had made it clear \vhich \vas the \vinning
side, Flambard, ,,,ho, as Orderic says, \vas "residing
as a prince in the to\vn of Lisieux," made his sub-
n1ission to Henry, recovered his bishopric of Durham,
and left the name of a grand prelate and a mag-
nificent builder, dying, it is said, peacefully and a
. ,
penItent.
It ,vas this brutality and misrule, this detestable
and ungovernable s\vay of selfishness, passion, and
cruelty, this treatment of kingdoms and states as a
\vicked landlord treated his tenants, \vhich roused
zeal and indignation in the a\vakening conscience and
awakening intelligence of Christian Europe. The
opposition to it came from the clergy; primarily, and
as to the origin of the impulse, from the monasteries-
places \vhere the search after peace and light and
purity, the forgiveness of sin, and the conquest of
evil, \vere, in ho,vever imperfect and n1istaken a

166

CHAJ\TGES AT IVILLIAllf'S DE,A TH.

[CHAP.

\vay, n1ade the objects of human life; \"here the
ne\v learning of the time disclosed more and more
\vhat l11en \"ere made for, and might be; \vhere prayer
and charity opened a spiritual \vorld for them; \vhere
self-discipline mad
them kno\v \vhat those, \vho
would, could do. From the monasteries the im-
pulse \vas communicated, not to the secular clergy,
as a body, but to their leaders, to the bishops, \",ho
carried \vith then1 the ideas of the monasteries into
public life; at last to the heads of the hierarchy, the
popes. By the mouth of the clergy, spoke the voice
of the helpless, defenceless multitudes, \vho shared
\"ith then1 in the misery of Jiving in a time \vhen la,v
\vas the feeblest and most untrust\vorthy stay of right,
and men held everything at the mercy of masters,
\vho had many desires and few scruples, quickly and
fiercely quarrelsome, irnpatient of control, superiority,
and quiet, and simply indifferent to the suffering, the
fear, the ,vaste, that n1ake bitter the days \vhen
society is enslaved to the terrible fascination of the
s\vord. In the conflict which ensued, there ,vas Inuch
of a mixed character, much that ,vas ambiguous.
Those \vho ,,-ere on the right side \vere not ahvays
right, those on the \\Tong side not ahvays \vrong. The
personal interests of the clergy \vere involved in their
efforts against military insolence and self-,vill, as \vell as
the interests of justice and the interests of the poor.
Doubtless they had much to lose by the uncontrolled
reign of the s\vord; but they had also much to lose
by opposing it. To resist and counterbalance it, they
brought in another kind of po\ver, \yhich in the course
of things \vorked great mischief and had to be taken
a\vay. \Vhat is \vorse, they based this po\ver, not

VII. ]

CHA1VGES AT IVILLIA
1f'S DEATH.

167

ahvays consciously, indeed, yet, in fact, upon ideas
and docun1ents \vhich \vere false. Their great lever
,vas a belief in a divine universal theocracy, appointed
by God and assigned by Christ to the Pope; a belief
\vhich, springing out of the natural gro\vth of tradi-
tions, utilities and claims, and encouraged by the ne-
cessity of the tin1es, ,vas at last boldly founded on
gross forgeries, and has developed into the preten-
sions of the later Popes, ,vhich to this day astonish
a ,vorld \vhich has seen many \vonders. But this is
all easy to say after the event, and the experience of
nearly nine centuries. Before the event, in the dark-
ness and perplexity of the eleventh century, things
looked very different. Then, in those days of armed
and la,vless power, it ,vas no unnatural thing for a
great Pope to n1atch his moral and spiritual po\ver
against the cruel forces \vhich seen1ed to be amenable
to no other check. Then it ,vas most natural for
Christians, hating the pride that defied God's la\v and
the licence \vhich trod its sanctities under foot, to rally
round the conspicuous and traditional centre of Chris-
tendon1, and seek there a support \vhich failed thenl at
the extremities. They must be judged by \vhat they
kne\v, and ,vhat they could see. It is unjust, as ,yell
as un philosophical, to import into the disputes of the
Hildebrandine age the ideas and axioms ,vhicÌ1 belong
to later tin1es. Pride, arrogance, falsehood, of course,
are the san1e in all ages, and \vherever \ve meet them
deserve our conden1nation. But it is a fallacy to
carry back, in our thoughts and associations, \vhat a
thing has become, to \vhat it \vas under earlier and
different conditions. \Ve all ackno,vledge this rule
of caution in judging of philosophical and religious

168 CHANGES A T
VILLIAltl'S DEA TH. [CHAP. VII.

development. It is equally true of institutions,
government, and policy. It is a mistake, in comparing
two different and remote stages of the same thing,
to make a later false and corrupt direction the
measure of a former natural and innocent one. A
thing n1ay even turn out in the long run, and under
altered conditions, mistaken and mischievous, \vhile
yet at the first it ,vas the best and \visest-perhaps the
only course to accept with unreserved earnestness.
Of such a nature \vas the contest ,vhich has made
Anselm's name famous in English history: a contest
in which, as Archbishop of Canterbury, he carried to
extremity his opposition to t\vo kings of England; a
contest in \vhich he thre,v himself on the support of
the popes, and the result of \vhich did much to con-
firm their po\ver in England; a contest in \vhich the
part he took has n1ade the most illustrious name
of his age a by\vord. \vith English historians, and
an object of dislike to some ,vho, but for that,
\vould not be insensible to the po\ver of one of the
most perfect examples of middle-age saintliness; a
contest in \vhich w"hat he did conduced in the end to
results which bore evil fruit in England, but in which,
notvvithstanding, according to all that he could judge
by then, he was right.

CHAPTER VIII.

AXSELM, ARCHBISHOP OF CA
TERBURY.

" \Vho is the Happy \YalTior? \Yho is he
That every man in arms should wish to be ?
* * * * *

'Tis he whose law is reason; who depends
Upon that law as on the best of friends;
"-hence, in a state where men are tempted still
To evil for a guard against worse ill,-
And what in quality or act is best
Doth seldom on a right foundation rest,-
He labours good on good to fix, anù owes
To virtue every triumph that he knows;
-\Yho, if he rise to station of command,
Rises by open means; and there will stand
On honourable terms or else retire;
\Vho comprehends his trust, and to the same
Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim;
Anù therefore does not stoop, nor lie in wait
For wealth or honour, or for worldly state;
\Yhom they must follow; on whose head must fall,
Like showers of manna, if they come at all."
\VORDSWORTH'S Haþpy IVarrior.

THERE can be no doubt that t<.J,vards the end of
the Conqueror's reign the fame of the school of Bec
,,,as pre-eminent in his don1Ïnions, above all other
places of religion and learning; and that next to the
illustrious name of its creator Lanfranc, ,vas that of
Anseln1, his pupil and successor at Bec. There can
be little doubt, either, that ,vhen Lanfranc died, the

170

A I'll SELlII,

[CHAP.

thoughts of all \vho looked upon him as the great
ecclesiastical leader of his day turned to Anselm, as
the man to carryon his \vork. Anselm \\Tas kno\vn
in England as \vell as in Normandy; kno\vn as Lan-
franc's friend; kno\vn in the cloister of Canterbury as
the sharer of his counsels; kno\vn at the Conqueror's
court; known as even more full of sympathy for the
native English than even Lanfranc himself. Every-
thing pointed him out as the fittest n1an that N or-
mandy could furnish to take the great place \vhich
Lanfranc had left vacant. He \vould probably have
been the Conqueror's choice; and by all \vho desired,
for \vhatever reason, that the see of Canterbury
should be filled in a \\Tay suitable to its eminence and
importance, he \vas marked at once as the person
\vhom it \vould most become the Conqueror's son to
choose.
But for such appointments, \vhich had been a matter
of great consequence ,vith his father, \Villian1 the Red
had little care. Lanfranc \vas gone, and Ralph Flan1-
bard ,vas the king's ne\v counsellor; and even that age
of violence ,vas shocked \vhen, instead of naming an
Archbishop of Canterbury, the King of England seized
the possessions of the see. and that he might rack its
revenues, refused to fill it up. For nearly four years
this lasted; and the patience ,vith which the scandal
was endured,-keenly felt as it ,vas even by the rough
barons of \Villiam's court,-is the measure of \vhat a
bold bad king could do, ,vho kne\v ho\v to use his
po,ver. A contemporary picture of the actual state of
things in a case like this is valuable. Eadmer ,vas a
monk at Canterbury, and describes \vhat passed before
his eyes. cc The king," he says, "seized the Church at

VIII. ]

ARCHBISHOP OF CAJ.VTERBURY.

17 1

Canterbury, the n10ther of all England, Scotland,
and Ireland, and the neighbouring isles; all that
belonged to it, \vithin and \vithout, he caused to be
inventoried by his officers; and after fixing an allo,v-
ance for the support of the monks, \vho there served
God, he ordered the remainder to be set at a rent and
brought into his don1ain. So he put up the Church of
Christ to sale; giving the po,ver of lordship over it to
anyone ,vho, ,vith \vhatever damage to it, ,vould bid the
highest price. Every year, in ,vretched succession, a
ne\v rent ,vas set; for the king \vould aHo,v no bargain to
ren1ain settled, but \vhoever promised more ousted him
,vho ,vas paying less; unless the former tenant, giving
up his original bargain, came up of his o,vn accord to the
offer of the later bidder. You might see, besides, every
day, the most abandoned of men on their business
of collecting money for the king, marching about the
cloisters of the monastery, regardless of the religious
rule of God's servants, and ,vith cru
l and threatening
looks, giving their orders on all sides; uttering menaces,
lording it over everyone, and showing their po\ver to
the utmost. \Vhat scandals and quarrels and irregu-
larities arose from this I hate to remember. The
monks of the church \vere some of them dispersed at
the approach of the mischief, and sent to otheï houses,
and those who remained suffered many tribulations
and indignities. \Vhat shall I say of the church
tenants, \vho ,vere ground do\vn by such \vasting and
misery; so that I might doubt, but for the evils ,vhich
follo,ved, \\yhether ,vith bare life they could have been
more cruelly oppressed? Nor did all this happen only
at Canterbury. The same savage cruelty raged in all
her daughter churches in England ,vhich, ,vhen bishop

17 2

A l'lSEL/lf,

[CHAP.

or abbot died, at that time fell into \vido\yhood. And
this king, too, \vas the first ,vho ordained this ,voful
oppression against the churches of God; he had
inherited nothing of this sort from his father: he alone,
,vhen the churches were vacant, kept them in his
o\vn hands. And thus \vherever you looked, there \vas
,vretchedness before your eyes; and this distress
lasted for nearly five years over the Church of Canter-
bury, ahvays increasing, ahvays, as time went on,
grO'wing more cruel and evi1."
The feeling of the time \vas against fiscal oppression
carried on in this \vholesale \vay against the Church.
The rough and unscrupulous barons had a kind of
respect for the monks, who in peace lived as hard
lives as soldiers in a campaign, and seemed so much
better men than themselves; and though in passion or
quarrel they themselves might often use them ill, they
looked \vith a disapproving eye on a regular systenl
for insulting and annoying them, and for enriching the
king out of lands \vhich benefactors had given for
the benefit of their souls, and in hope of sharing in
the blessings of perpetual prayers. And in the case
of Canterbury the pride was touched both of English-
men and of Norman barons. For Canterbury ,vas a
see of peculiar and unmatched dignity in the ,vest,
and its arcl}bishop was a much greater person in
court and realm than any archbishop of Rouen or
Lyons. He \\Tas a spiritual father to the \vhole king-
dom; the most venerable among its nobles, the repre-
sentative and spokesman of the poor and the hum ble ;
the great centre of sacred and divine authority, \vith-
out whose assent and anointing the king's title ,vas
not complete, and ,vho ,vas the \vitness bet\veen the

VII!.]

/IRCHBISHOP Or'" CA1VTERBURY.

173

king and his people of the king's solemn promises
of righteous government, of n1ercy, n1ildness, and
peace. The king's council \vas imperfect \vhile no
Archbishop of Canterbury \yas there to be his ad-
viser. The honour of the English cro\vn and realm
suffered, \vhen the archbishopric lay vacant year after
year, in the hands of Ralph Flambard and his men;
and people talked among thenlselves that the place
which Lanfranc had filled so \vorthily, there \vas no\v
Lanfranc's friend to fill.
\Vhether or not \vith any thought of this kind,
and it probably was so, in the year 1092 Hugh of
A vranches, Earl of Chester, an old friend of Anselm's,
invited him over to England to organize a house in
\vhich he had substituted monks for seculars, St.
\Verburg's at Chester. Hugh the vVolf, one of the
Conqueror's march lords on the \Velsh border, is
painted for us v:ith much vividness in one of the rude
but vigorous portraits which Orderic liked to dra\y,
-a violent, loose-living, but generous barbarian,
honouring self-control and a religious life in others,
though he had little of it himself; living for eating
and drinking, for \vild and \vasteful hunting, by \vhich
he damaged his o\vn and his neighbours' lands;
for murderous \var against the troublesome \Velsh;
for free indulgence, \vithout much reference to right
or \vrong; very open-handed; so fat that he could
hardly stand; very fond of the noise and riotous com-
pany of a great follù\\-ing of retainers, old and young,
yet keeping about him also a silnple-minded religious
chaplain, \vhom he had brought with him from
A vranches, and \vho did his best, undiscouraged,
though the odds \vere much against hinl, to a\vaken

17+

A NSEL1.Jf,

[ CHAP

a sense of right in his \vild flock, and to prove by the
example of military saints like St. Maurice and St.
Sebastian, that soldiers might serve God. I t is one
of the puzzles of those strange days, \vhat there
could have been in,common bet\yeen Earl Hugh and
Anselm to have been the foundation of the mutual
regard ,vhich from old date seems to have been
ackno\\Tledged bebveen them. Anselm, ho\vever,
declined the earl's invitation. It ,vas already ,,'his-
pered about, that if he ,vent to England he \vould be
archbishop. Such a change ,vas, in truth, entirely
against his o\vn inclination and habits of life, and he had
made up his mind against accepting it; but he ,,,ould
not give room to suspicions by seeming to put him-
self in the \vay of it. Again Earl Hugh sent for him;
he \vas sick, and "Tanted the help of an old friend. If
the fear of the archbishopric kept Anselm a,vay, U I
declare," he said, (( on my faith, that in the reports
\vhich are flying about there is nothing ;" and it \vould
ill become him to be hindered by such misgivings from
succouring a friend in necessity. Again Anselm
refused, and again Earl H ugh repeated his pressing
message. uNo peace that Anselm could have in
eternity, ,vould save him from regretting for ever that
he had refused to come to his friend." Anselm's sen-
sitive conscience ,vas perplexed; to refuse to go seemed
like putting the care of his o,vn character for disinter-
estedness above the \vishes and perhaps the real needs
of one ,yho had been from old time his familiar friend.
So, cOlnmending his intention and purpose to God, he
\yent to Boulogne and crossed to Dover. Eadmer adds,
that others among the chief men of England ,,,ho had
chosen him as the tt comforter and physician" of their

\ II I. ]

ARC/IBISHOP OF CAj\/TERBURl":

175

souls, pressed his coming over; and \vhen once he had
come over, the community of Bec, \vhich possessed
property in England \vhich no doubt needed look-
ing after, made it a matter of command to their
abbot that he should remain till he had put their
affairs in order. He came to Canterbury, meaning
to remain there the next day, \vhich \vas a festival;
but he \vas n1et \vith cries of \velcome, as the future
archbishop, and he hurried a\vay at once. At the
court, ,vhich he passed on his \vay to Chester, he
\vas received \vith great honour even by the king.
There he and the Red King had their first experience
of one another. At a private intervie\v Anselm,
instead of entering, as the king expected, on the
affairs of the monastery, laid before him, in the
unceremonious fashion of those times, the complaints
and charges \vhich \vere in everyone's mouth against
his government. "Openly or secretly, things \vere
daily said of him by nearly all the men of his realm
\vhich \vere not seemly for the king's dignity." It is
not said ho\v vVilliam received the appeal, and they
parted. Anselm \"ent to Chester, and found Earl
H ugh recovered. But the affairs of Bec, and the
ordering of the Chester monastery, had still to be
arranged; and Anselm \vas kept on nearly five
months in England. The talk about the arch-
bishopric dropped, and he ceased to think about it.
But \vhen he \vished to return to Normandy, the king
refused to give him the necessary leave to go out of
the realm.
\\Thy \Villiam detained him is one of the unex-
plained points in Eadmer's othenvise clear and
distinct narrative. It seems as if \Villiam felt that if

Iï 6

./1 iV.S'EL1II,

[CHAP.

there ,vas to be an Archbishop of Canterbury, he, like
the rest of the world, would rather have Anselm than
anyone else; but that he saw no reason for the
present to make up his mind to surrender so con-
venient a possession as the archbishop's heritage.
So he kept Anselm in England, on the chance of his
being necessary. The nobles and bishops ,vho had
perhaps hoped that Anselm's being on the spot might
bring matters to a point, and \\?ere disappointed at
the king's sho\ving no signs of relenting, had re-
course, in their despair of any direct influence, to a
device ,vhich, even to Eadmer, seenled a most extra-
ordinary one, and treated their fierce king as if he
\vere an impracticable child \vho could only be ,vorked
upon by roundabout means. By one of the quaintest
of all the quaint and original nlixtures of simplicity
and craft of which the l\liddle Ages are full, it ,vas pro-
posed at the meeting of the court at Gloucester at
Christmas 1092, that the king should be asked by his
barons and bishops, ,vho 'vere troubled and distressed
at the vacancy of Canterbury, to allow prayers to be
said in all the churches of the realm that God ,vould
put it into the king's heart to raise up the ,vido\ved see
from its scandalous and unprecedented desolation.
He ,vas "sollle\vhat indignant" at the suggestion
,vhen it ,vas first laid before hinl, but he assented to
it; adding, as his vie\v of the matter, cc that the
Church might ask ,vhat it liked, but he should not
give up doing ,vhat he chose." The bishops took
him at his ,vord, and the person to \vhom they applied
to dra,v up the form of prayer \yas Anselm. He
objected to do, as a mere abbot, \vhat properly
belonged to bishops to do. But they persisted:

\"1 II.]

ARCHBISHOP OF CAIYTERBUR]

1;7

prayers \\'ere accordingly ordered throughout all the
churches of England, and the court broke up. \Vhen
the king's temper \"as sounded, he \vas as obstinate
as ever. One of his chief men in familiar talk spoke
of the Abbot of Bec as the holiest man he had ever
kno\\'n; "he loved God only, and, as \vas plain in all
his \\'ays, desired nothing transitory." " Not even the
archbishopric ?" rejoined \Villiam \vith his character-
istic scoff The other maintained his opinion, and
said that there \vere many \vho thought the same.
"If he thought that he had but the least chance of
it," said the king, cc \vould he not dance and clap his
hands as he rushed to embrace it? But," he added,
"by the Holy Face of Lucca," (his usual oath,)
"neither he nor anyone else at this time shall be
"archbishop except mysel["
The king \\'as still at Gloucester, \vhen, in the
beginning of 1093, he \vas seized \vith a dangerous
illness. The times \vere so unsettled, that the anxiety
caused by it brought back the bishops and great men
,vho had just dispersed. \Villiam thought himself
dying, and he looked back and looked fonvard \vith
the feelings so conlmon in those days, ,vhen men
\vere reckless in health and helpless in the hour of
need. The victims of his rapacity and injustice, the
prisoners in his dungeons, the cro\vn debtors ground
do\vn and ruined by fiscal extortion, the churches
,vhich he had plundered and sold, and kept \yithout
pastors, all rose up before his mind: above all, the
flagrant and monstrous \vrong to the nation as
\vell as to religion, of the greatest see of the realm,
treated \vith prolonged and obstinate indignity and
left unfilled. H is barons as ,veIl as his bishops
s. L. ::. K

178

A.l.VSELJI,

[ C HA P.

spoke their minds plainly, and pressed for reparation
and amendment. And nO\\T, as \\
as natural, the
influence of a spiritual counseIlor like Anselnl ""as
at once thought of. In those times, sick men thought
nothing of sending across the sea for a comforter
,,,hose kno\vledge and goodness they trusted, to aid
and advise them in their ignorance and terror: and
Anselm had the greatest nan1e of all of his time
for that kno\vledge ,vhich heals the soul. He ,yas
staying, ignorant of the king's illness, some\\
here
not far from Gloucester, ,,,hen he ,vas summoned
in all haste to attend upon the dying luan. He
can1e; "he goes into the king," as Eadmer teIls the
story; "he is asked ,vhat advice he thinks most
\vholesome for the soul of the dying. He first begs
to be told \vhat had been counselled to the sick
man by his attendants. He hears, approves, and
adds-CIt is \vritten, Bcgin to the Lord Ùz confessio1l,
and so it seen1S to me that first he should make a
clean confession of all that he kno\\'s that he has
done against God, and should pronlise that, if he
recovers, he \vill \vithout pretence amend all; and
then that ,vithout delay he should give orders for all
to be done \vhich you have recon1mended.' The pur-
port of this advice is approved, and the charge
assigned hin1 of receiving this confession. The
king is inforn1ed of \vhat Anselm had said to be
most expedient for his soul's health. He at once
agrees, and ,vith sorro\v of heart engages to do all
that Anselnl's judgment requires, and all his life
long to keep more fully justice and mercifulness.
He pledges to this his faith, and he makes his bishops
\vitnesses bet\\Teen himself and God, sending persons

VIII. ]

ARCHBISHOP OF CA1VTERBURY.

179

to promise this his \vord to God on the altar in his
stead. An edict is \\'ritten, and sealed \vith the

ing's seal, that all prisoners \vhatsoever should be
set free in all his dominion; all debts irrevocably
forgiven; all offences, heretofore comn1itted, be par-
doned and forgotten for ever. Further, there are
promised to all the people good and holy la \\'s, the
inviolable upholding of right, and such a serious in-
quiry into \yrong-doing as may deter others." "The
king," says Florence, \yith the Peterborough Chronicle,
"\vhen he thought himself soon to die, promised to
God, as his barons recommended to him, to correct
his life, to sell no more churches, nor put then1 out
to farm, but to defend them by his kingly po\ver,
to take away unrighteous la\vs, and to establish
righteous ones."
1'here \vas one more matter to be settled: the
king, \vho believed himself and \vas believed by
others to be dying, \\'as dying \vith the vacant arch-
bishopric in his possession and on his conscience.
There could be no question no\v \yith him about
getting free from the perilous load. But \vho \vas
to be arch bishop? All \vai ted for the king to
name him. He named Anselm. Ansehn, he said,
\yas most \vorthy of it.
And no\v follo\ved a scene, \vhich \ve read \vith
different feelings, according as \ve åre able to believe
that a great post like the archbishopric may have
had irresistible terrors, ovenvhelming all its attractions
or temptations, to a religious mind and conscience
in the eleventh century. If Anselm's reluctance
\vas not deep and genuine, the \vhole thing \vas the
grossest of comedies; if his reluctance \vas real,
X 0

180

A NSELAI,

[ CHAP.

the scene is one of a thousand examples of the \vay
in which the Inost natural and touching feelings nlay
be expressed in shapes, \vhich by the changes of
times and habits come to seem most grotesque and
unintelligible. But if it \vas a comedy, or even if he
did not know his o\vn mind, then the \vhole view
\vhich \vas taken of Anseln1 in his o\vn time \vas mis-
taken, and the conception of his character on \vhich
the present account is \vritten, is fundamentally
\vrong. His writing,", the picture of the man sho\vl1
in his letters, and the opinion of those \vho kne\v him
by reputation and of those \vho kne\v him best and
wrote of him, have conspired to lead us \vrong.
When the king's choice \vas announced to Anselm,
he trembled and turned pale. T'he bishops came to
bring him to the king, to receive the investiture of
the archbishopric in the customary \vay, by the
delivery of a pastoral staff Anselm absolutely re-
fused to go. Then the bishops took him aside fron1
the bystanders, and expostulated \vith him. " \Vhat
did he n1ean? Ho\v could he strive against God?
He sa\v Christianity almost destroyed in England, all
kinds of wickedness rampant, the churches of God
nigh dead by this man's tyranny; and \vhen he could
help, he scorned to ào so. Most \vonderful of men,
\vhat \vas he thinking about! Where \vere his \vits
gone to? He \vas preferring his o\vn ease and quiet
to the call \vhich had come to hin1 to raise up Can-
terbury from its oppression and bondage, and to
share in the labours of his brethren." He insisted,
cc Bear \vith me, I pray you, bear \vith me, and attend
to the matter. I kno\v that the tribulations are
great. But consider, I am old and unfit for \vork :

YIII. ]

..lRCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURl:

ISI

ho\v can I bear the charge of all this Church? I
am a monk, and I can honestly say, I have shunned
all \vorldly business. Do not entangle n1e in ,vhat
I have never loved, and am not fit for." But they
put aside his plea. Only let him go fonvard boldly
and be their guide and leader, and they ,vould take
care of the temporal part of his ,york. No, he said,
it could not be. There ,vas his foreign allegiance,
his foreign obedience to his archbishop, his ties to
his monastery, \vhich could not be dissolved ,vithout
the ,vill of his brethren. These n1atters, they an-
swered naturally enough, could easily be arranged;
but he still refused. "It is no use," he said; H ,,,hat
you purpose shall not be." At last they dragged
him by main force to the sick king's room: William,
in his anguish and fear, was deeply anxious about the
matter, and entreated him ,vith tears, by the memory of
his father and mother, ,vho had been Anselm's friends,
to deliver their son from the deadly peril in \vhich
he stood. The sick man's distress moved son1e òf
the bystanders, and they turned ,vith angry ren10n-
strances on Anselm. "\Vhat senseless folly this ,vas!
The king could not bear this agitation. Anselm
\vas embittering his dying hours; and 011 him ,vould
rest the responsibility of all the mischiefs that \vould
fo11o\v, if he ,vould not do his part by accepting the
pastoral charge." Anseltn in h1S trouble appealed
for encouragement to t\\.o of his monks, Bald\vin and
Eustace, ,vho \vere \vith him. H Ah, my brethren, ,vhy
do not you help me?" ({ l\Iight it have been the
\vill of God," he used to say, speaking of those
moments, H I \vould, if I had the choice, gladly have
died, rather than been raised to the archbishopric."

182

A.l.VSELJI,

[CHAP.

Bald\vin could only speak of submitting to the ,vill
of God; and burst, says Eadmer, into a passion of
tears, blood gushing fron1 his nostrils. " Alas! your
staff is soon broken," said Anselm. Then the king
bade them all fall at Anselm's feet to implore his assent;
he, in his turn, fell down before them, still holding
to his refusal. Finally, they lost patience; they \vere
angry \vith him, and ,vith themselves for their o"vn
irresol ution. The cry arose, cc A pastoral staff! a
pastoral staff!" They dragged him to the king's
bed-side, and held out his right arm to receive the
staff But "vhen the king presented it, Anselm
kept his hand firmly clenched and ,vould not take
it. They tried by main force to ,vrench it open;
and when he cried out ,vith the pain of their violence,
they at last held the staff closely pressed against
his still closed hand. Amid the shouts of the cro\vd,
(C Long live the Bishop," ,vith the Te DeuJIt of the
bishops and clergy, "he ,vas carried, rather than led,
to a neighbouring church, still crying out, It is nought
that ye are doing, it is nought that ye are doing."
He himself describes the scene in a letter to his
monks at Bec. cc It ,vould have been difficult to
make out ,vhether madmen ,vere dragging along one
in his senses, or sane men a n1adman, save that
they ,vere chanting, and 1, pale ,vith amazement and
pain, looked more like one dead than alive." From
the church he ,vent back to the king: cc I tell thee, my
lord king," he said, cc that thou shalt not die of this
sickness; and hence I ,vish you to kno,v how easily
you may alter what has been done ,vith me; for I have
not ackno\vledged nor do I ackno,vledge its validity."
Then, ,vhen he had left the king' s chamber, he

YIII.]

ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBUR Y:

18 3

addressed the bishops and nobles ,vho ,,'ere escort-
ing him. They did not kno\v, he said, \vhat they
had been doing. They had yoked together to the
plough the untameable bull \vith the old and feeble
sheep; and no good could come of the union. The
plough ,vas the Church of God; and the plough in
England ,vas dra\vn by t\\.o strong oxen, the king
and the Archbishop of Canterbury: the one, by his
justice and po\ver in things of this ,vorId; the other,
by his teaching and governance in things divine.
One, l...anfranc, ,vas dead; and in his room, ,vith his
fierce companion, they had joined the poor sheep,
,,,hich in its o,vn place might furnish milk and ,vool
and lambs for the service of the Lord, but no\v could
only be the victim of violence ,,'hich it ,vas helpless
to prevent. \Vhen their short satisfaction at the
relief \vhich they had gained had passed, they ,vould
find that things ,vould become ,vorse than ever. 1-1 e
,,'ould have to bear the brunt of the king's savage
temper: they ,vould not have the courage to stand
by hin1 against the king; and ,vhen he \vas crushed,
they ,vould in their turn find themselves under the
king's feet. Then dismissing them, he returned to
his lodging. He ,vas almost overcome and faint
,vith distress; they brought him holy ,vater and made
him drink it. This happened on the Firs1J Sunday
in Lent, l\larch 6, 1093. The 'king ilnmediately
ordered that he should be invested ,vith all the
temporalities of the see, as Lanfranc had held them.
There \vas plainly no escape. His acceptance
,vas the one chance open for better things. If there
\vas to be an archbishop, it must be Anselm. On
cooler thoughts, he recognized ,vhat had happened as

184

.AJ.\9SELJI,

[CHAP.

the \vill of God; though, as he said, \vhether in nlercy
or \vrath, he could not tell: and he bowed to it. There
were still many steps bet\veen him and the arch-
bishopric. The consents of the Duke of Normandy,
of the Archbishop
f Rouen, and of the monks of
Bec \vere necessary, in order to release Anselm from
his existing obligations. From the Duke and the
_J\rchbishop the requisite consent ,vas easily obtained.
The monks of Bec \vere more difficult. It is a curious
feature in the monastic discipline, that \vhile the abbot
\vas suprelne over the 11lonastery, the monastery as a
body had the right to command the abbot on his
obedience to bo\v to their claims on his service. At
Bec, they ,vere disposed to insist on this right. They
did not like to J.ose their famous abbot. Some \vere
deeply attached to him. There '\'ere some "Tho
\vhispered complaints of his ambition and self-
seeking. They refused at first to set him free.
At the solemn chapter held t.o decide on the matter,
there ,vas an obstinate minority \vhich refused to
concur in relieving hin1 from his duties to Bec. t
Their discontent ,vas shared by others. Duke
Robert spoke disrespectfully of Anselm's n10tives.
Gilbert, Bishop of Evreux, the diocese in \vhich Bec
,vas situated, \vho had given to Anselm the consecra-
tion of abbot, expressed himself unfavourably to
Anselm's honesty in taking the archbishopric. It
is plain that, as \vas natural enough, there \vas a
good deal of talk in Normandy and the neighbour-
hood about the 11lotives \vhich had dra\\-n a\vay the
Abbot of Bec to England.
Anselm \vas in the position, ahvays a difficult
one to act in, and for others to judge about, of a man

VII 1.]

ARCHBISHOP OF C.rl.
VTERBú-RJ

18;

long Inarked out for high and difficult office, \vho has
at first violently shrunk froin the appointment \yhich
3eemed almost called for, and has then made up his
n1Ïnd to take it. There is indecision in such a situa-
tion ; and he has to bear the consequences. He can
but thro\v hinlself on his character, on the inlperious
necessities of the call, on the equitable interpretation of
circumstances. There certainly \,'as a cause. "If you
kne\v," he \vrites to the monks at Bee, "\vhat mischief
the continuance of this long vacancy (of Canterbury)
has done both to souls and bodies, and ho\v hateful it
is, and they, too, by \vhom it is caused, to all the better
and \viser sort, yes, and to the English people, I think
if you had the feelings of men you too ,,'ould detest
its prolongation." II There are sonle, I hear," he says in
another letter,-" \vho they are God kno\vs,- \yho
either spitefully fancy, or through Inisunderstanding
suspect, or are stung by unruly vexation to say, that I
an1 rather dra\vn to the archbishopric by corrupt an1-
bition, than forced to it by a religious necessity. I kno\v
not \vhat I can say to persuade them of \\'hat is in my
conscience, if my past life and conversation do not

atisfy thenl. I have lived for thirty-three years in
tÌle monastic habit: three \vithout office, fifteen as
prior, as nlanyas abbot; and those \"ho have kno\vn
me have loved me, not from care of my o\vn about it,
but by God's mercy; and those th
more, \vho kne\v
nle the most intimately and familiarly; and no one
sa\v in me anything from \\'hich he could gather that I
took delight in. proll1otion. \Yhat shall I do then? Ho\v
shall I drive away and quench this false and hateful
suspicion, that it may not hurt the souls of those who
-once loved me for God's sake, by chilling their charity;

186

A.A"SELJI,

[ CHAP

or of those to \vhom n1Y advice or example, be it \\Torth
\\That it may, might be of use, by making them think
me \vorse than I really am; or of those \vho do not
kno\v me and hear this, by setting before them an evil
exalnple. . . . . Thou God seest me; be thou my
"ritness, that I kno\v not, as my conscience tells nIe,
\vhy the love of anything, \vhich thy servant as a
despiser of the \vodd ought to despise, should drag
and bind me to the archbishopric to \vhich I am
suddenly hurried." (C Here," he proceeds, "is my
conscience, about my \vish for the archbishopric or
my dislike to it. If I deliberately lie to God, I don't
kno\v to \\Thom I can speak the truth." He goes
on, after \varning those \\Tho "Tere busy in fostering
suspicion, H \\"hether many or one," to notice some of
the forms in \\Thich the claim of the monastery to keep
him \vas put. H Some of you say that I might have
reasonably held out against the election; they say,
C \Vhen he 'vas compelled to be an abbot, he delivered
himself as a servant to us in the llallze of the Lord.'
. . . But ,vhat did I give you in (the lla111e of the L01
d?'
Surely this: that I \vould not of my o\vn \vill \yith-
dra\v myself from your service, nor seek to \vithdra\v
myself, except under the obligation of that order
and obedience of \vhich I \vas before, according to
God's \vill, the servant.' He ought, they said, to
have put for\vard this previous surrender of himself
to Bee as a bar to any other office. He had been given
to the brethren at Bee, "according to God;" and
after the analogy of marriage, no one ought to take
away him \vhom God had given. They reminded him
that he had been used to say, that he desired not to
live except for them; that he never \vould have any

YIII.]

ARCIIBISHOP OF CA.YTERBURY:

187

other government except that of Bee. The ans,,-er
is that God's ,vill has overruled it all. U I trusted to
my strength and \vit to keep myself ,,-here I \vished
to be; God has been stronger and craftier than I,
and 111Y confidence has come to nothing." The
reluctance of the monks to part \vith him, not\'Tith-
standing the shapes \vhich it took, and the irritation
\vhich the change created, are remarkable proofs of
\vhat Anselm had been at Bee. H l\Iany of you," he
\vrites, "nearly all, came to Bec because of me ; but
none of you became a monk because of me: it
,vas for no hope of recompense from me that you
vo\ved yourselves to God; from Him to \vhom you
gave all you had, from Him look for all you ,vant.
Cast all your burden upon lIim and He \\Till nourish
you. For myself I pray that you \vill not love me
less, because God does I-lis \vill \vith me; that I may
not lose 111Y re\vard "Tith you, if I have ever \vished to
do your \vill, because no\v I dare not and ought not
and cannot resist the \vill of God, nor up to this time
see ho\v I can \vithdra\v myself from the Church of
the English, except by resisting God. Sho\v that you
have loved me, not only for yourselves, but for God's
sake and my o\vn."
All these difficulties caused delay. The king
nlean\vhile got \\Tell, and \vith health can1e regrets for
the engage111ents made on his sick-hed. Eadmer says
that his public promises \vere \vithout scruple broken.
The a111nesty to prisoners \vas recalled; the cancelled
debts \vere again exacted; the suits and claims of the
cro\vn, \vhich had been abandoned, \vere revived.
H Then arose such misery and suffering through the
,,-hole realm, that ,vhoever relnem bers it cannot

ISS

.41
"SELJI,

l '-f \ !')
\.."......... 1.

rClllClnbcr to ha\'c secn anything like it in England,
.r-\11 the c\'il ,,'hich the king had done before hc \\"as

ick scct11cd good in c0I11parison \\'ith the c\'ils \\"hich
he did \\'hcn restored to health." He seen1ed to look
back on his illness, ,,'ith fierce bitterIles
. Gundulf,
Bishop of Rochestcr, an old pupil and fricnd of
....-\nsehll.s at Bee, and the king's chief architect. reInon-
strated. It Be assured. Bishop:' ,vas the ans\Yer, per-
haps in half-jest to people \\"ho understood no jesting on
such Inatters, "that. by the Holy Face of Lucca. God
shall nc\'er ha"c HIC good for the ill that He has brought
on n1c." But he had sho\\'11 no ,,"ish to revoke... \nsehn's
appointInent. Anseltl1 recei\7cd the forIllal consent
to his elcction frol11 X oflnandy before it reached
the king. .l\nsehn. ho\ve,'er. ,vas not yet bound. J.. \t
Rochester, ,,'h
rc he n1et \ Villianl in the course of the
SUI11I1ICr, he set bcfore the king three conditions on
,,'hich only he ,,"auld accept the archbishopric. .J. \11
the posscssions of the see, as Lanfranc had held
then}, I11ust be granted to hinl ,vithout trouble; and
if the see had clainls for lands ,,-hich had been taken
frol11 it, the king nIust do hin1 right. Then, in things
pertaining to God and Christian religion, the king
111USt gi,'c special ,,'eight to his counsel; and as he
took the king for his earthly lord and defender, so
the king n1ust have hin1 for his spiritual father and
ghostly ad,'iscr. Lastly he ren1inded the king that
in the quarrel that "'as going on bet,,-cen the riyal
Popes. Urban and the
\nti-Pope Clelnent, \\-ho \vas
recognized by the Eluperor, he, ,,"ith the rest of the
Xonnan Church, had ackno\\"ledged Urban. and that
froIlI thi5 allegiance he could not s""erYe. The caution
,,-as necessary, because England as yet had been

VI II.]

ARCHIl/SHOP OF CANTERBURY.

!S9

neutral, and had acknowledged neither. Let the
king, he said, declare his n1ind on these points, that
I Inay kno\v ,vhat ll1Y course is to be. The king
sumnloned t\vo of his advisers, \ Villian1 de St.
Carileph Bishop of Durham, and Robert Count of
l\Ieulan, or, as it ,vas then \vritten, Mellcnt, and asked
Anselnl to repeat his ,vords. 1-I e did so; dnd the
king by his council ans\vered, that as to the see
property, Anselm should have all that Lanfranc had,
but that about any further clainl he ,vould make no
proll1ise. And as to this and other points he \vould
trust Anselm as he should find that he ought. A fe\,"
days after he also received from Normandy the letters
releasing Anselm. He summoned Anselm to \Vind-
sor, \\"here the court \yas staying, and invited hinl to
acquiesce in the choice maùe by himself and the
\vhole realn1; but he ,vent on to beg of Anselm, as
a personal favour to himself, that he \vould agree that
the grants of Church lands made by the king since
Lanfranc's death to military vassals of the Cro\\.n, on
tenure of service to hilllself, should stand. This nleant
that these lands \vere to be \vithdra\vn for good
from the sec. To this Anselm \yould not agree. He
\vould not bargain to spoil a church office ,vhich ,vas
not even yet his. His vie,v, rcpeated more than once
in his letters, ,vas clear and siluple. It "'as a time
\,"hen reckless giving \vas follo\yerl by unscrupulous
encroachment; and his successor, he foresa \v, \vould
have just as much as, and no more than, he himself
should have on the day \yhen he died. If other people
robbed Church lands, or connived at the robbery, the
\vrong might be repaired. (( But no,v as the king is
the advocate of the Church, and the Archbishop the

19 0

AJ.\SEL.JI,

[ CHAP.

trustee, the ans\ver hereafter \vill be, to any clainl of
restitution, that \vhat the king has done, and the
archbishop confirmed by allo\ving, must hold good."
The king \vas so irritated by this refusal that the
\vhole matter \vas
uspel1ded. Anselm, says Eadmer,
began to hope that he should escape the burden. " I
said and did for six months," he says to his friend
the Archbishop of Lyons, "all that I could \vithout
sin that I might be let off" But the complaints of
the ruin of the Church began again, and \\Tere, after
,vhat had passed, too much for the king. The 1110nks
of Canterbury assailed Anselm with eager and angry
appeals. At last he consented. At \Vinchester he
\vas, U according to the custom of the land, made
the king's man, and ordered to be seised of the
\vhole archbishopric as Lanfranc had been." On the
5th of September he came to Canterbury, and \vas
enthroned. On the very day of the solemnity Ralph
Flambard appeared there, \\Tith his airs of insolence
and his harshness, to disturb the festivities by a suit
in the king's nan1e against some of the archbishop's
tenants. The people's minds \vere deeply \vounded at
the insult; that "a man like Anselm should not be
allo\ved to pass the first day of his dignity in peace."
He himself took it as a presage of \vhat a\vaited him.
On the 4th of December, 1093, he \vas consecrated
by the Archbishop of York, in the presence of nearly
all the English bishops. According to the old ritual,
the Book of the Gospels, opened at random, \vas laid
on the shoulders of the ne\vly consecrated prelate,
and the passage at \vhich it opened \\Tas taken as a
sort of omen of his episcopate. The passage \vhich
turned up \vas, "He bade many, and sent his servant

YIII.]

ARCHBISHOP OF CAJVTERBURY.

19 1

at supper-time to say to them that \vere bidden,
Conle; for all things are no\v ready. And they all
\vith one consent began to make excuse."
His first intercourse \vith the king \vas friendly;
but it ,vas soon clouded. \Villianl \yas in the midst
of his projects against his brother Robert, and n10ney
\vas his great ,vant. Among others \vho offered their
presents, Anseln1, urged by his friends, brought 500
marks. The king at first received it graciously.
But the men round hinl represented to hin1 that he
might reasonably expect a n1uch greater sum from
one to ,,"hom he had done such honour. Accordingly,
as his practice \vas when he \vas dissatisfied \vith a
present, ..L\nselm's 500 marks \vere refused. He ,vent
to the king and expostulated. HIt \vas his first
present, but not his last; and a free gift \vas better
than a forced and servile contribution." His \yords
implied a reproof to the king's systerl1 of extortion;
and \Villianl ans\vered angrily, that he ,vanted neither
his n10ney nor his scolding, and bade him begone.
Anselm thought, says Eadmer, of the \vords of the
Gospel \vhich had been read on the day \vhen he first
entered his cathedlal-" No man can serve two
Inasters." But thè refusal \vas a relief. A surn of
n10ney in the shape of a free gift, after a man \yas
consecrated, \vas one of the "rays in ,vhich church
offices \vere sold and bought. Implacable opposition to
this system ,vas one of the n1ain points in the policy of
the reforming party \\"ith \vhon1 Anselm sympathised.
He congratulated hin1self that he \vas saved even from
the appearance of a corrupt bargain for the arch-
bishopric. He \'"as urged to regain the king's favour
by doubling his present, but he refused; he gave a,vay

19 2

A NSELJI,

r CHAP.

the money to the poor, and left the court \vhen the
Christnlas festival \vas over.
He soon Inet \Villianl again. \Vith the rest of the
great men of England he \vas summoned in February
1094, to meet the king at Hastings, \vhere he \vas ,
\vaiting for a fair \vind to carry him over to N or-
mandy. The bishops \vere to give their blessing to
the expedition, and to help the king by their prayers
against the perils of the sea. There \vas a long delay
from contrary \vinds, and Anselm no\v made his
appeal to the king for help in the \vork \vhich the
king had forced upon him. The points on \vhich he
insisted \vere t\yo. He \vanted some check to the
unbridled licence of manners to \vhich the contem-
porary chronicles bear ample and detailed evidence;
and he \vanted important religious posts, like those
of the abbots of the nlonasteries, to be filled up. The
custon1ary remedy for disorders, "Tell kno\vn in Eng-
land as in Normandy, \vas a council of bishops,
meeting \vith the king's sanction, \vhose regulations
\vere to be backed by his authority. Anselnl asked
for such a council, " by \\-hich Christian religion, \vhich
llad "Tell-nigh perished in man y nlen, might be restored,"
and the influence of its teachers revived and strength-
ened. \Villiam demurred. He \vould call a council
only at his o\vn tinle-\vhen he pleased, not \vhen
Anselm pleased; and, \vith a sneer, he asked \vhat
the council \vas to be about? H The \vhole land," said
Anselm, "unless judgment and discipline are exer-
cised in earnest, \vill soon be a Sodom." \Villiam "Tas
not pleased, and ans\vered shortly, "\\That good \vould
come of this matter for you?" u If not for me, at
least, I hope, for God and for you." " Enough," said

VII I.]

ARCHBISHOP OF CA1\7TERBURl':

193

the king; "talk to me no more about it." Anselm left
the subject, and spoke of the vacant abbeys, repre-
senting the ruin caused to the monks theillseives, and
the great danger to the king's soul, of leaving all this
evil unredressed. \Villian1 could no longer contain his
anger. "\Vhat are the abbeys to you? Are they not
mine? Go to; you do \vhat you like \vith your
farms, and anl I not to do \vhat I like \vith my
abbeys ?" " Yours," \vas the ans\ver, "to protect as
their advocate, not to \vaste and destroy and use for
the expense of your \vars." The king expressed
again his great displeasure. " Your predecessor," he
said, "\vould not have dared to speak thus to my
father. I \\"ill do nothing for you." And they parted.
Anselnl thought that in these ungracious ans\vers
the old anger about the money might be \\Torking;
and he resolved to send a message by the bishops
asking for the king's friendship. "If he \vill not
give it me, let him say \vhy; if I have offended, I am
ready to make amends." "N 0," the king ans\\"ered,
" I have nothing to accuse hinl of; but I ,vill not
grant him my favour, because I do not hear any reason
,vhy I should." The bishops brought back the reply,
and .Anselm asked ,vhat he meant by "not hearing
,\Thy he should." The bishops sa,v no difficulty in
understanding hin1. "The mystery," they said, "is
plain. If you \vant peace \vith him, you must give
him money."-" Give him the five hundred pounds
you offered," \vas their advice, "and promise as much
more; and he \\"ill give you back his friendship. \Ve
see no other ,yay of getting out of the difficulty; and
\\"e have no other for ourselves." "Far be it from me,"
said Anselm, "to take this ,yay out of it." To such a
s. L. x. 0

194 Al";SELJf, ARCHBISHOP OF CAl\
TERBURY.

precedent for extortion he could never lend himself.
Besides, his tenants had been racked since Lanfranc's
death; and ,vas he H to strip them in their nakedness,
or rather flay them alive?" It ,vas un,vorthy to think
of buying the king
<; favour, as he ,vould a horse or an
ass, for money. vVhat he asked ,vas to have as arch-
bishop his love, and to give himself and all he had
to his king's service. His business-like brethren re-
marked, that cc at any rate he could not refuse the
five hundred marks already offered." H 1:\0," he said,
Ie he ,vould not offer ,vhat had been rejected; and
besides, the greater part of it ,vas gone to the poor."
When \Villiam ,vas told of this, he sent back the
following ans,ver :_CC Yesterday I hated him much,
to-day still more; to-morro,v and ever after he may
be sure I shall hate him ,vith more bitter hatred. As
father and archbishop I \vill never hold him more;
his blessings and prayers I utterly abhor and refuse.
Let him go \vhere he ,vill, and not \vait any longer
for my crossing to give me his blessing." cc Anselm
departed \vith speed," says Eadmer, \vho appears
from this time as the archbishop's constant com-
panion, "and left him to his \vill." \Villiam crossed
to K ormandy, for \vhat seemed at the time an
inglorious summer \\Tar, in ,vhich all that ,vas clear
,vas that it had cost him vast sums of money, ,vrung
from the English people, the English churches, and
the English monks. Normandy ,vas not yet his. But
it \vas soon to be, and his \\Tas money not spent for
nothing.

CHAPTER IX.

THE
IEETIXG AT ROCKIXGH..\:\I.

" 0 happy in their souls' high solitude
'\no commune thus with God and not with earth !
Amid the scoffings of the wealth-enslayed
A ready prey, as though in absent mood
They calmly move, nor hear the unmannered mirth."
L)'ra Aþo.;tolica, xxiv.

THE signs of the approaching storm had sho\\-n
themselves. \Yilliam had found that the new' arch-
bishop ,,-as not a Inan to be frightened by rough
,,"ords into compliance \yith arbitrary and unreason-
able demands. .Anselm had found ,yhat he had
anticipated, that the king, once more in health,
,,-ith his political objects before him and his need of
nloney pressing hinl, ,yould not listen to ren10n-
strances, nor change his ,,-ars. Naturally enough,
the king thought he had made a great mistake in
forcing the archbishopric on Anselm. He began to
think ho,," he could force it fron1 him. Occasions for
attelnpting this ,yere not likely to be ,,"anting.
On his return from Normandy a ne\v cause of
difference \vas opened bet\veen him and _ \.nselm.
The rule had been established by the Popes and
accepted by 'Vestern Christendom, that a nletro-
politan must go to Ron1e to get from the Pope his
PallÙI1Il, the ,,-hite ,,-oollen stole ,,-ith four crosses ,,-hich

o :::

196 THE JIIEETIL\-C AT ROC/{Ifi/CHAJI. [CHAP.

\vas the badge of his office and dignity, and is still
the special blazon in the armorial bearings of Canter-
bury. The usage \\yas an acknowledged one at this
time: Lanfranc himself had gone to Rome for the
purpose. But the ch
ir of St. Peter \vas no\v claimed
by t\VO rivals, Urban and Clement. Anseln1 had
foreseen a difficulty in the matter. France and
Normandy had ackno\vledged Urban; England had
ackno\vledged neither. Anselm, before his final
acceptance, had given fair \\Tarning that to hiin
Urban "Tas the true Pope; the king had evaded
the subject. Anselnl no,v asked leave to go to Ron1e
for his PallÙtJll. \Villianl ,vas at Gillinghanl, a royal
residence near Shaftesbury, on the borders of the
Forest of Sehvood. "Fron1 \\rhich Pope?" asked
the king. Anselnl had already given the ans,ver to
the question, and he could but repeat it-" FroIH
Pope Urban." "Urban," said the king, "I have not
ackno\vledged. By nlY customs, by the custon1S of
my father, no man may ackno,vledge a Pope in Eng-
land "Tithout my leave. To challenge my pO\\Ter in this,
is as much as to deprive n1e of n1 y cro\\"n." .l\nselnl
reminded hin1 of the \yarning given at Rochester.
The king broke forth in anger, declaring that Anselnl
could not keep his faith to the king, and his obedience
to the Apostolic See, ,vithout the king's leave. The
question thus raised could not be left unsettled.
\\'as that indeed the rule for the Churchmen of
England? Anselnl delnanded that it should be
ans\vered by the great council of England. The
denland could not be refused, and an assembly \vas
Sl1mnloned to consider the ,,,hole nlatter, and to
give the king advice upon it.

I)..]

THE JIEETI.J.YG AT ROCI
IIÇGH.AJ/.

I9ï

Accordingly a great meeting of the chief men in
Church and State ,vas held at the Castle of Rock-
inghanl. ., The tangled forest of Rockingham," says
Sir F. Palgrave, "a continuation of the Derbyshire
,voodlands, ".as among the largest and most secluded
in the kingdonl. At a much later period, this dreary
,veald measured thirty miles in length. The castle,
raised by the Conqueror, had been planned by the
cautious sovereign quite as nluch for the purpose of
coercing the inhabitants, as for the protection of the
glo\ving furnaces. Echoes of facts and. opinions, the
mediæval traditions, represent the forgemen as a
peculiarly barbarous class; had Ansehn been faint-
hearted, he might have dreaded placing himself in a
spot \\'here the executioners of any misdeed or cruelty
might be so readily found." But he had no reason
for such fears. Fierce as the age ,vas, and fierce as
'VVilliam \vas, such an end to his quarrel ,,'ith Anseln1
,vas never thought of. Roughness, insult, treachery,
high-handed injustice, \vere \\'eapons to be used \vith-
out scruple; but it is not enough to say that the
nlurder of an opponent like Anselm, judicial or secret,
,,'ould have shocked everybody: it never presented
itself to the king's mind. Anselm all along \vas quite
saíe of his life, and felt himself to be so.
The great council-\ve might alnlost call it a par-
liament-met on ì\lid-Lent Sunday, 1\1arch I I, 1095,
probably in the church of the castle. There "'ere the
bishops, abbots, and nobles; and besides a numerous
throng, \\'atching and listening, of "monks, clerics,
and laymen." The king did not appear; he had his
private council sitting apart, from \vhich messages
passed to and fro bet\veen hin1 and the archbishop

198 THE lIfEETING AT ROCKINGHA.I.
I. (CHAP.

in the larger public assen1bly. The proceedings are
reported in great detail, day by day, by Eadmer, 'who
,vas present, and \vho probably heard \vhat passed on
the king's side from Gundulf, the one bishop \vho did
not take part against Anselm. Anselm stated his case,
and the reasons \vhy he invoked their judgment and
arbitration. It \vas the same question \vhich \vas to
be put by the king, and answered so emphatically by
bishops and parliament, four centuries later; but it
was put under very different circumstances, and under
very different conditions at this time. "The king,"
said Anseln1, "had told him that he had not yet ac-
knowledged Urban as Pope, and that he therefore did
not choose that Anselm should go to Urban for the
Pallium." He had added, " If you receive in my realm
Urban or anyone else for Pope, \vithout my choice
and authority, or if having received him you hold to
him, you act against the faith ,,'hich you o\ve to me,
and offend me not less than if you tried to deprive
me of my crown. Therefore be assured that in my
realm you shall have no part, unless I have the proof
by plain declarations that, according to my \vish,
you refuse all submission and obedience to Urban."
Anselm \vent on to remind them that it \vas by no
wish or seeking of his o\vn that he \vas archbishop;
that he had been driven to it; that he had kno\vn
his own infirmities, and urged them; further, that on
this point he had from the first given fair notice that
he had acknowledged Urban, and \vould not s\verve
from his obedience for an hour. "They kne\v," he said,
"ho\v much he had desired the burden, ho\v attractive
he had held it, \vhat pleasure he had found in it." He
declared once more that he \vould rather, \vith all

IX.]

THE .L7fEETING AT ROCKIl\
GHAJf.

199

reverence to the ,vill of God, have been cast into
the fire than have been exalted to the archbishopric.
," But," he said, " seeing that you ,vere importunate, I
have trusted myself to you, and taken up the load you
put upon me, relying on the hope of your promised
.assistance." N O\V the time had come to claim the
promise. The question had been adjourned to this as-
semblage, that they all might by joint counsel inquire
\vhether, saving his faith to the king, he could keep
his obedience to the Apostolic See. He especially ap-
pealed to his brethren the bishops, that U they \vould
sho\v hilTI ho\v he might neither do anything contrary
to his obedience to the Pope, nor offend against the
faith ,vhich he o\ved to the king. For it is a serious
thing to despise and deny the Vicar of St. Peter; it
is a serious thing to break the faith \vhich I pro-
mised to keep, according to God, to the king: but
that, too, is serious \vhich is said, that it is impossible
for me to keep the one \vithout breaking the other."
It ,vas a fair question to men ,vith the inherited
and unbroken convictions of the religion of that age.
The claim \yhich \Villiam maintained had come do\vn
to him from his father, ,vho had insisted on it reso-
lutely, ,vith Lanfranc's sanction or acquiescence, even
against Gregory VII. "It \\Tas a prerogative," the
bishops declared, ",vhich their lord held chief above
anything in his government, and in \\yhich it ,vas clear
that he excelled all other kings." On the other hand,
no one in those days imagined Christianity ,vithout
Christendom, and Christendom ,vithout a Pope; and
all these bishops understood exa.ctly as Anselm did
the favourite papal text, Ie Thou art Peter, and on
.this rock I ,vill build my Church." Nobody in those

oo THE J.1IEETING AT ROCArIl\TGHA.J/. [CHAP.

days doubted the divine authority of the Pope: the
claim on \vhich the Norman kings laid so 111uch stress
had naturally and reasonably arisen from the contest
of rival popes, and the doubt \vho 'vas really the true
Pope. No one had held more intimate relations \vith
Rome, or made more' use of the Pope's po\ver, than
\Villiam the Conqueror. But \vith Anselm, the only
question that there could be, \"ho \vas the Pope, \vas,
as he had fron1 the first declared, no question at all ;
he, ,vith Normandy, and all Gaul, had recognized
Urban as the true Pope. It \vas part of \Villian1's
policy of 111ingled bullying and trickery, the trust
placed in evasion and delay by a man \\'ho doubted
of allll1en's straightfonvardness and disinterestedness,
and hoped that ,vith time their selfishness "Tould be
his sure ally, that he shut his eyes to ,vhat ,vas plain
from the first, that the Pope "Thorn Anselm had
ackno\vledged, he ".ould stick to.
But the bishops "Tere in heart, as \\Tell as by the
forms of the la,v, the king's n1en. Some of them
had bought their bishoprics, most of then1 ,vere afraid
of \Villian1, and ,vere ahvays expecting to have to ap-
pease his \vrath by heavy gifts of money. They sa,v,
too, that a quarrel of this kind \vas most dangerous to
the already precarious peace üf their churches; and they
refused to be dra\\Tn into it. \Vith complilnents on
Anselm's \visdom, \vhich ought, they said, to be their
guide, they declined to give any other advice than
that he should submit himself ".ithout conditions to
the king's \vill. They I,vere \villing, hO\\Tever, to
report his \vords to the king, and the proceedings
\vere adjourned to the 1110rrO\V. On the l\Ionday
accordingly, they met again, and Anseln1 repeated

IX.]

THE .i1IEETI1\1G AT ROCA7.1.\TGHAJI.

201

his question, to \\'hich they gave the same ans\yer.
They \yould advise him only on condition of his sub-
nlitting hiITIself, ,yithout qualification or reserve, to the
king's \vilI. It \\'as the ans\ver of co\\'ards, convicted
by their o\vn conscience, and kno\ving that all \vho
heard them kne\v ,vhat \vas in their conscience.
"Having said these \\'ords, they \vere silent," says
Eadnler, "and hung do\vn their heads, as if to receive
,vhat ,vas coming on then1." Then Anselm, his eyes
kindling, made his appeal. ,e Since you," he said, H the
shepherds of the Christian people, and you \vho are
called chiefs of the nation, refuse your counsel to me,
your chief, except according to the \vill of one man, I
,,"ill go to the Chief Shepherd and Prince of all; I \vill
hasten to the A 1lgel of great counsel, and receive fronl
Him the counsel \vhich I ,vill follo\v in this my cause,
yea, His cause and that of His Church. He says to
the most blessed of the apostles, Peter, e Tllou art
Peter, and OJl tltis rock will I build 1/l)' Church,' &c.
. . . And, again, to all the apostles, jointly: 'He that
lu:ars J'Olt hears Utc, and he that despises )'Olt despises
111C,o a1ld he 'il-,ho touches you touches the apple of
1/line e)'c.' It ,vas primarily to St. Peter, and in hinl
to the other apostles; it is primarily to St. Peter's
vicar, and through him to the other bishops ,,"ho fill
the apostles' places, that these \vords, as \\7e believe,
,vere said; not to any emperor ,,,+atsoever, not to any
king, to no duke, or count. But \vherein ""e must
be subject and minister to earthly princes, the same
Angel of great counsel teaches us, saying: C Render
to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and the things
tltat are God's to God.' These are God's \\70rds, these
are God's counsels. These I allo\v and accept, and

:!02 THE JIEETING AT }(OCKINGHA.JI. [CHAP.

from them \vill I not depart. I(no,v ye, therefore, all
of you, that in the things that are God's I will render
obedience to the Vicar of St. Peter; and in those
which belong of right to the earthly dignity of my
lord the king, I ,vill r.ender him both faithful counsel
and service, to the best of my understanding and
po,ver." The chief men of the assembly ,vere not
prepared for this bold and direct announcement.
Their irritation broke out in angry and confused
clamour, II so that it might be thought that they
\vere declaring him guilty of death;" and they
peremptorily and angrily refused to report Anselm's
,vords to the king, to ,vhose chamber they retired.
Anselm, finding no one ,vhom he could trust to inform
\Villiam of ,vhat had passed, ,vent to him and re-
peated his ,vords in his presence. 'Villiarn ,vas, of
course, very angry. He intended that Anselm should
be silenced as ,veIl as forced to submission; and he
looked to his bishops especially to silence hirn. It
'vas not easy for them H to find something to say
which should at once soothe the king's ,vrath, and not
openly contradict the alleged ,vords of God." Eadmer
describes their perplexity, as, broken up into knots
of t,vo or three, they discussed the matter; ,vhile
Anselm, ,vho had returned to the church, sat by
himself to ,vait the result, and at last, ,vearied by
the delay, II leaning his head against the ,vall, fell
into a calm sleep."
At length, late in the day, the bishops ,vith some
of the lay nobles carne to him from the king. Their
language \vas a mixture of coaxing and menace.
.H The king," they said, H requires peremptorily an
immediate settlenlent, once for all, of the question

LIBRARY ST. IMRY'S COLLEGE
IX.] THE JIEETJl\
G AT ROCKIJ.VGHAJI. 203

\vhich had been opened at Gillingham and adjourned
at Anselm's request to the present time. The matter
\vas perfectly plain and needed no argument. The
\vhole realm cried out against him for impairing the
honour of their lord's imperial cro\vn; for to take
a\vay the customs of the royal dignity \vas as
good as taking a\vay the king's cro\vn; one could
not be duly held \vithout the other." Then they
appealed to his pride and self-interest. lC This Urban
could be of no use to him; \vhy not shake off the
yoke of subjection to him, and be free, as becomes an
Archbishop of Canterbury, to fulfil the commands of
our lord the king. Let him like a \vise man ask
pardon, and fall in \vith the king's wish; and so they
who hated him, and exulted over his troubles, \vould
be put to confusion by the restoration of his high
place." Anselm, still declining to \vithdra\v his obedi-
ence from Pope Urban, asked, as the day \vas closing,
to put off his reply to the morro\v, "so that thinking
over it I may ans\ver what God shall please to inspire."
They judged that this meant that he \vas \vavering.
The leader and spokesman on the king's side \vas
the Bishop of DUïham, William de St. Carileph.
\Villiatn-by Eadn1er's o\vn account, a ready and
clever speaker, for he gives hin1 this credit, \vhile he
denies hilll that of "true \visdom" -had, early in the
king's reign, begun by measuring his strength against
the king; he had resisted the claim of jurisdiction of
the king's court on a bishop; he had tampered \vith,
if he had not joined in, the great conspiracy of the
Normans under Bishop Odo of Bayeux and Bishop
Geoffry of Coutances; he had been forced to make
terms \vith the king, to leave his bishopric, and spend

20 4 THE JIEETl
YG AT ROC/{L\YGHAJI. [CHAP.

some years in banishment; and no\v he \vas reconciled
with the king, and had formed the hope, that if he
could get Anselm out of the archbishopric he might
be his successor. He had done his best to [olnent
the quarrel bet\veen the king and Anselm; and no\v,
encouraged by Anselm's request for delay, he boldly
engaged to \Villiam either to make him renounce the
Pope, or to force him to resign the see by the sur-
render of the ring and staf{ Either ,vould suit
\Villiam's policy: Anselnl ,vould be discredited and
unable to speak and act \vith authority, if he gave up
the Pope; or the king ,vould be rid of him altogether,
and have established his absolute po\ver by the ITIOSt
signal proof of strength. " For "'hat he ,,'ished \vas to
take from Anselm all authority for carrying out Chris-
tian religion. For he had a nlisgiving that he ,vas not
in complete possession of the royal dignity, as long
as anyone in all the land ,vas said, even in nlatters of
conscience (scclIlldullZ Del/lIz), to hold anything or to
have any pO\\7er, except through him." The Bishop
of Durham, accordingly, returned to Anselm \vith
the king's final sumnlons. Anselm had dared to make
the Bishop of Ostia Pope ,vithout the king's authority
in this his England. U Clothe him again, if you please,
\vith the due dignity of his imperial cro\vn, and then
talk of delay. Else, he imprecates the hatred of
Almighty God on himself, and "'e his liegemen join
in the imprecation, if he grant even for an hour the
delay you ask for till to-rnorro\\r. Therefore, ans\ver
at once, or you shall on the spot feel the doom \vhich
is to avenge your presuInption. Think it no matter
of jest. To us it is a matter of great pain and anger.
And no ,vonder. For that ,vhich your Lord and ours

IX.]

THE ..1IEETING AT ROCA-I.l.VGHA.J.Jl.

20 5

has as the chief prerogative of his rule, and in ,,,hich
it is certain that he excels all other kings, you, as far
as you can, rob him of, against the faith you have
pledged hinl, and to the great distress and trouble
of all his friends." But \Villian1 de St. Carileph had
overshot his nlark and n1istakel1 the n1an ,vith ,vhon1
he had to deal. This threat of instant summary
judgment at the king's ,vill and ,vord might frighten;
but if it did not frighten, it \vould be thro\yn a\vay on
anyone ,vho could appeal to the by no means dor-
mant ideas of la\v and justice. Anseln1 listened
patiently, and replied, "\Vhoever ,vould prove that,
because I \vill not renounce the obedience of the
venerable bishop of the holy Roman Church, I am
violating nlY faith and Iny oath to my earthly king,
let him present himself, and he shall find n1e pre-
pared to ans\\'er him, as I ought, and \vhere I ought."
\ Vhen the Bishop of Durhan1 and his companions
came to see the meaning of Anselm's \vords, "as I
ought and where I ought," they recognized in it a
plea to \vhich they had no ans\\
er; for it meant that
no one could pass judgnlent on an Archbishop of
Canterbury, except the highest judge and authority
in Christendonl, the }J ope himself; and the claim
came home too pO\\Terfully to the minds of n1en, both
as Christians and as Englishn1en, for the king's
N orman bishops to think of qt1estioning it. The
sympathy of the cro\vd had been \\'ith Anselm; but
fear of the king had kept down the expression of it to
faint Inurmurs. But no\v a soldier stepped out of the
throng, and kneeling before the archbishop, said,
" Lord and Father, thy children, through me, beseech
thee not to let thy heart be troubled by what thou hast

206 THE 1lfEETING AT ROCKIl\9GHA1JI. [CHAP.

heard; but remember how holy Job on the dunghill
vanquished the devil, and avenged Adam ,vhom thç
devil had vanquished in Paradise." The quaint at-
tempt at encouragement cheered Anselm. " He
perceived that the feeling of the people ,vas ,vith
him. So ,ve were glad, and \vere more at ease in
our minds, being confident, according to the Scri p-
ture, that the voice of the people is the voice
of God."
But in the court there ,vas great vexation. "\Vhat
shall I do?" says our reporter Eadmer-literally our
reporter, for he 'vas present during the ,vhole ses-
sion:-H\Vere I to attempt to describe the threats,
reproaches, insults, false and foul language ,vith ,vhich
the archbishop ,vas assailed, I should be judged an
exaggerator." The king ,vas exasperated, "even to
the dividing of his spirit," 1 ,vith the failure of the
bishops: H \Vhat is this? Did you not promise that
you ,vould treat him according to my will, judge him,
condemn him?" The Bishop of Durham ,vas tho-
roughly disconcerted; his words on every point ,vere
tame and halting; he seemed to have lost his head.
He could only suggest ,vhat he had refused to Anselm,
delay till the morro,v. On the morro,v, Tuesday
morning, Anselm and his companions ,vere in their
accustomed seats, ,vaiting the king's orders. For a
long time none came. The council ,vas perplexed.
The Bishop of Durham had nothing better to recom-
mend than open violence. As a matter of argument
there ,vas nothing to be said; Anselm had the ,vords
of God, the authority of the ...J\postle on his side. But
his staff and ring could be taken from him by force,
1 Heb. iv. 12, Yu]g.

IX.]

THE .iJIEETING AT ROCKIl\TGHA.J.11.

2 0 7

and he expelled the kingdom. The Bishop of Durham
suggested the last expedient \vhich the bishops could
agree in. Such a termination to the quarrel \vould
be at least the king's act, not their o\Yn, as it \vould
be if they passed judgment on him or on his plea.
...t'\..n impracticable and dangerous leader \vould be got
rid of by lay violence, and they \vould not be compro-
mised. But if the bishops acquiesced, the laymen of
the council \vere dissatisfied. They \vere beginning
to think that things \vere going too far. The same-
feeling \vhich made the commons see in the arch-
bishop the first of Englishmen, the successor of the
great Englishman Dunstan, of the great Italian \vho
had turned Englishman, Lanfranc, made the nobles
see in him the first of their o\vn order, the Father of
the chiefs of the realnl, \vith \vhom they could have
no rivalry, the mediator and arbiter bet\veen thenl
and the cro\vn, and the buhvark against its tyranny.
Only second to the cro\vn, as part of the honour and
dignity of the land, \vas the archbishopric of Canter-
bury: an injury to its honour \vas as serious as an
injury to that of the cro\vn. The barons refused
to agree \vith the advice of the bishop. " His
\vords did not please them." "\Vhat does please you
then," said the king, "if they do not? \Vhile I live,
equal in my realm I \vill not endure. And if you
kne\v that he had such strength on his side, \yhy did
you let me engage in this legal conflict against him?
Go, go, take counsel together; for by God's counte-
nance, if you do not condemn him, I \vill condemn
you." One of the shre\vdest of them, Robert Count
of l\Iellent, \vho \vas hereafter to be one of Anselm's
stoutest enemies, ans\vered, apparently \vith a sense of

208 THE lJIEETING AT ROCKINGHAJI. [CHAP.

amusement at the baffled eagerness of the bishops, and
perhaps \vith something of a sportsman's adn1iration for
the gallantry of the single-handed defence, "About our
counsels, I don't kno\v quite \vhat to say. For \vhen
we have been arranging them all day long, and have
settled, by talking thènl over among ourselves, ho\v
they are to hold together, he goes to sleep, and thinks
no harnl; and the mOlnent they are opened before
him, with one breath of his lips he breaks then1 as if they
\vere cob\vebs." The king turned again to the bishops:
"vVhat could they do?" It \vas out of the question,
they said, to judge hinl ; but they agreed in the king's
strange suggestion, that though they could not judge
him, they could \vithdra\v their obedience fronl him,
and deny him their brotherly friendship. This, then,
\vas agreed upon; and, accompanied by some of the
English abbots, they finally announced to the arch-
bishop that they withdre\v their obedience fronl him,
as the king also \vithdre\v from him his protection
and confidence, and \vould never more hold him for
archbishop and ghostly father. Anseln1 ,vas to be-
come a kind of outla\v, abandoned by all his brethren,
deprived of the king's protection and out of the
king's peace, put to shame before the "'hole realm.
His ans\ver \vas cahn and temperate. There 111ust be
t\\'O to make a quarrel, and he on his part \vould not
quarrel either \vith them or \vith the king. lIe re-
ne\ved his o\vn promise of fidelity and service to the
king; he \vould still hold hilnself responsible for the
king's spiritual \velfare, as far as the king deigned to
allo\v him; and, conle \vhat might, he should still
retain the authority and name of the Archbishop of
Canterbury. \\Tilliam heard his ans\ver ,,'ith displea-

IX.]

THE LJfEETIl\YC AT ROCKLYCHA.JI.

20 9

sure; he had probably expected submission or re-
signation. There \vas still one more thing to do : the
ecclesiastical members of the council had formally
deserted Anselm, but the laymen had not. The king
turned to them: " No man shall be mine," he said,
It \vho chooses to be his;" appealing to the feudal
feeling about homage: and he called on his barons to
follo\v the example of the bishops. But the tide had
no\v completely turned. They absolutely refused to
lend themselves to a precedent so dangerous to all
their liberties. They in their turn appealed to the
subtleties of feudal customs. " \Ve never "'ere his
men, and \ve cannot abjure the fealty \vhich \ye never
s\vore. He is our archbishop. He has to govern
Christian religion in this land, and in this respect \ve,
,vho are Christians, cannot refuse his guidance ,,,hi Ie
\ve live here, especially as no spot of offence attaches
to him to make you act differently as regards him."
The ans\ver altered the \vhole face of matters. It
turned ,vhat had seemed the \vinning side into the
beaten and disappointed one. It upset all the king's
plans, and the three days' laborious and shifty attempts
of the Bishop of Durham and his fello\vs. The lay-
men, high and lo\v, refused to go \vith them; and the
defeat 'was confessed. The king, angry as he 'Ya
,
dared not carry things too far \vith his unruly barons.
The bishops had made their sacrifice of honour and
conscience for nothing; nothing \vas gained by the
public display of their subserviency, \vhich it ,vas not
even thought ,vorth ,,,hile to follo\v up. On all sides
they met mocking eyes and sco\vling looks, and heard
themselves spoken of in by,vords of reproach: "This
or that bishop you might hear branded no\" by one
s. L. x. P

210 THE J.1IEETI.LVG AT ROC/(IArCHAJf. [CHAP.

man, then by another, \vith some nicknalne, ac-
companying bursts of disgust: Judas the traitor,
Pilate, Herod, and the like." Nor \vas this all. The
king turned upon them, and, as if suspicious of their
straightfonvardness, p
t to them a test one by one:
did they renounce obedience to Anselm uncondition-
ally, or only so far as he claimed it by the authority
of the Pope? The ans\vers, as might be expected,
"gere various. Those \vho gave it boldly and \vithout
reserve \vere treated \vith marks of favour as the
king's faithful friends and liegemen; "those \vho
qualified it, \vere driven from his presence, as quibblers
and treacherous equivocators, and ordered to a\yait
the sentence of his judgment in a distant part of the
castle. Thus terrified and covered \vith confusion upon
confusion, they skulked a\\'ay to a corner of the build-
ing. There they soon found the ,,-holesome and familiar
counsel on \vhich they \,'ere \vont to rely: they gave
a large sum of
oney, and they \vere received back
. h k . , r "
Into t e
lng s lavour.
Anselm, ho,,'ever, could not treat this public inti-
mation from the king, that he \vas out of the king's
protection, merely as a feint. He at once demanded
a safe-conduct for one of the outports, that he might
quit the kingdom. But it \vas not 'Villiam's game
that he should leave, still "seised" of the arch-
bishopric; there ,,-as 110 \yay to "disseise " him, and
the demand \vas an unpleasant surprise. The bishops
had got the king into the difficulty "Tith thcir advicc,
and he had now in his irritation broken up his
party among then1, by inflicting on them the humi-
liation of the test question about their sincerity in
renouncing Anselm. He consulted \vith the barons;

IX.]

THE JIEETI.l.VG AT ROCR-LYGHAJI.

II

and by their advice, the archbishop ".as again told to
retire to his lodging and come on the InorrO\V for his
answer. Early on \Vednesday morning he received
a message: "Our lord the king desires you to come
to him." He ""ent, anxious to kno\v his fate, divided
bet\\"een the hope of escape from his burdens and the
fear of remaining in England. " \Ve mounted up, ,,"e
"
Tent and took our seat in our accustomed place, eager
to kno,\. the final issue of our matter." The Inessage
can1e in the shape of a proposed adjournment of the
,\"hole question. Anselm said that it ,,"as only an
attempt to gain tin1e; but it ,,-as not for him to refuse
,delay; and a "truce" ,vas agreed upon till the fol-
lo\,'ing \Vhitsuntide ; the king still intimating that the
question could only be settled on his present terms.
A nselm accordingly left the court. But the policy
of annoyance and ill-usage did not cease. The king's
ill-humour vented itself on his friends. Bald,,"in of
Tournai, a monk of Bee, \yho had been much in
Anselm's confidence, ,,-as summarily expelled the
'kingdom. The archbishop's chamberlain ,vas arrested
in his very chamber before his eyes. The vexatious
system of the king's treasury and la\v courts ,vas
carried on against the monks at Canterbury. "That
Church," says Eadmer, ," suffered such a storm in all
its tenants, that everyone agreed that it ,vould be
better to be ,yithout a pastor at all as they had been,
than to have such a pastor as this." The archbishop,
according to the ,vays of the time, spent his time in
his various country manors; Harro,,", Hayes, and
l\10rtlake.

P 2

..

CHAPTER X.

TilE FIXAL QUARREL WITH WILLI.\:\I.

" 'Vhose powers shed round him in the common strife,
Or mild concerns of ordinary life,
A constant influence, a peculiar grace;
But who, if he be called upon to face
Some awful moment, to which Heaven has joined
Great issues, good or bad, for human kind,
Is happy as a Lover; and attired
\Vith sudden brightness, like a man inspired;
And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law
In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
* * << * * * *

'Yho, with a toward or untoward lot,
Prosperous or ad verse, to his wish or not-
Plays, in the many games of life, that one
"There what he most doth value must be won."
\V ORDSWORTH'S rEaþþy lVarrior.

VVILLIA
I had not the least intention to diso\vn the
Pope or to quarrel \vith Rome; and his first step ,vas
an attempt to playoff Urban's nan1e and authority on
his o\vn side against Anselm. \Vhen the question
first arose he had sent t\VO of the clerks of the chapel,
Gerard, after\vards Archbishop of York, and vVilliam
of vVarehvast, to Rome, to inquire into the state of
things between the rival popes; and further, to per-
suade the Pope, by the means ,vhich \vere usual in
those days, and \vhich \vere supposed even under the
reformed papacy of Gregory VII. to have great po\ver
at Rome, to send the archiepiscopal pall to the king,

CH. x.] FL\"ÁIL QUARREL IVITH IVILLIAJI. 213

to be given by him, ,vith the Pope's sanction, to the
Archbishop of Canterbury, the name of the arch-
bishop being suppressed. They found Urban in pos-
session of Rome, and ackno\vledged him; and in
ans,ver to the king's request \tV alter, Bishop of
Albano, caIne to England as papal legate, in com-
pany ,,'ith the two chaplains, shortly before the
appointed tilne at \tVhitsuntide, bringing ,vith him
the pallium. But the greatest secrecy ,vas observed.
He passed through Canterbury privately, taking no
notice of the archbishop, and proceeded straight to
the king. His first object ,vas to secure the formal
recognition of Urban in England. Anselm's friends
heard ,vith consternation that the Pope's legate had
encouraged the king to hope that all his ,vishes
\\"ould be granted, and that he had said not a ,yard
in Anselnl's favour, or done anything on behalf of one
,vhose loyalty to the Pope had cost hinl so dear. The
disappointment \vas great: "vVhat are \ve to say?
If Rome prefers gold and silver to justice, \vhat help
and counsel and comfort may those expect in their
troubles \vho have not \vhere\yithal to pay that they
may have right done them in their cause?"
\Vhat passed behveen the king and the Bishop of
Albano does not appear. Eadmer says that the legate
reported the Pope ready to agree to all the king's
,vishes, and \villing to grant thel1
by special privilege
for his lifetime. But the result \vas that Urban ""as
formally ackno\vledged as Pope in England. Having
recognized Urban, the king then asked for the depo-
sition of Anselm by the Pope's authority. He offered,
says Eadmer, a large annual payment to the Roman
Church if he could have his \vish. But this 'vas too

21 4

FI1Y.tlL QUARREL IVITH ll'ILLI.clJ/.

[CHAP.

nluch; and he gave up the project, regretting that he
had gained so little by his recognition of Urban, but,
as the nlistake ,vas past rcnledy, intending to l1lake the-
best of it.
At \Vhitsuntidc, Anselm, \vho had been keeping the
festival at his I11anOr
f Mortlake, "'as sunlnloned to
the neighbourhood of \ Vindsor, ,vhere the king ,vas,
and canlC' to IIayes, another of his 111 a 11ors. I-Ie \vas
visited the next day by nearly all the bishops, and
their errand ,vas once nlore to prevail on hiln to make
up the quarrel by a paYlllent of nloney. .L\nselnl \,'as
inflexible. He ,,"ould not do his lord the shanle to
treat his friendship as a nlatter of bargain; he asked
for it freely, as his archbishop and his subject. If he
could not have it on these ternls, he asked again for a
safe-conduct to quit the realnl. "IIavc you nothing,
else to say to us ?" They thcn told hinl of the arrival
of the archiepiscopal stole, sent by the Pope to the
king. lIen.: it ,vas, to be hdd ,vithout the trouble of
the journey. \V ould he not Blake sonle ackno,vlcdg-
ment of the bcnefit to hilnself? \Vould he not, for
his 0\\'11 credit's sake, offer the king at least ,,"hat hc.
\volIld have spent on the journey? But he ,,"ould not
hear of it, anJ bade thenl leave off. 1
he king sa",
that his gan1e had been a false one, and thrc\v it up
:1.t last frankly. Trouble ,,'as abroad, and it "'as no
time to uc keeping up a quarrel in ,yhich he ,,,as"
baffled, and in \\"hich he could not carry the opinion
of his subjects \,"ith hilu. H..ebellion "'as threatening
in the north: H..obert l\Io,vLray, Earl of Northunlbcr-
land, had refused the king's SUnll110nS to appcar-
at \ Vindsor; the \'Velsh I11archcs "'cre ah,'ays dan-
gerous. \Villianl ""as prcparing for a busy and critical

x.]

FI.J.VAL QUARREL TVITH TVILLIA.l.JI.

21 5

sun1mer, and he could not afford to offend his chief
men. vVithout more ado he follo\\"ed their advice, and
freely restored Anseln1 to his favour. Bygones \\Tre
to be bygones, and he granted that the archbishop
.-:;hould freely exercise his office as the spiritual father
of the realn1. 1'hey Inet publicly at \Vindsor as
friends, in the presence of the nobles and the
asselnbled ll1ultitude; and \vhile they \\Tere con-
versing, "behold," says Eadmer, "that ROlnan vValter
appears, and pleasantly quotes the verse, , Behold, how
good and jo)'ful a thillg ;it is, brethrcll, to d,vcll together
Ùl u/lity.' And, sitting down, he discoursed s0111e\vhat
from the Lord's ,vords about peace, praising the
revival of it bet\vcen then1, though feeling all the
\v hile to his shame that it \vas not by his exertions
that peace had been so\vn."
It \vas still hoped that Anselm might flatter the
king by receiving the pall fron1 his hands. But he
refused: \vhat everyone looked upon as S1. Peter's
gift it did not belong to the royal dignity to convey
to him. His vie\v ,vas the natural one, and he \vas
not pressed. It \vas arranged that it \vas to be laid
on the altar at Canterbury, and that Ansehn \vas to
take it from thence. There accordingly, on the Third
Sunday after Trinity, June 10, 109S, it \vas brought
\vith great ceremony by Bishop vValter in a silver
case. Anselm, bare-footed ane{ surrounded by the
bishops, took it fronl the altar. Again, it is said, as
at his consecration, the Gospel of the day happened
to be the Pdrable of the great supper, \\"ith the
,vords about "calling nlany," and "all \vith one con-
sent beginning to make excuse." These things then
inlprcsscd 111en's n1inds as significant, and the double

::n6

Flf\.' AL QUARREL TVITI! 1 VILLIA JJ.

[ CHAP.

coincidence naturally excited much remark. For the
tilne Anselm \vas left in peace. On his \vay from
\Vindsor hvo other bishops \vho had taken part
against him at Rockingham, Osmund of Salisbury
and Robert of Hereford, the special friend of St.
\Vulfstan of \Vorcester, follo\ved him and asked his
forgiveness. They turned, says Eadmer, into a little
church by the \vay, and there he absolved them. His
chief antagonist, William de St. Carileph, a foiled and
disappointed man, felt the anger of his hard master.
I lis ill-success \vas harshly visited on him. "He
received a summons," says Sir F. Palgrave, "to
appear before the curia Regis, the' IZing's Court,' as
a delinquent. Grievously ill, he requested a respite.
Rufus rudely and cruelly refused the strictly la,,{ul
CSSOigll, de 1Jlalo lccli (the excuse of a sickness \vhich
confined hin1 to his bed) ; one \vhich, according to our
ancient jurisprudence, the meanest defendant might
claim as a matter of right-s\vearing the excuse \vas a
sham. The bishop ,vas compelled to follo\v the court,
in \vhich he had recently paraded so proudly; but he
sank under the con1bined effects of vexation and
disease, for ,vhen he reached \Vindsor he took again
to his bed, fron1 ,vhence he never rose. Anselm dili-
gently and affectionately attended him, received his
confession, adn1inistered the last sacralnents, prayed
,vith him and for hiln. The bishop's corpse \vas
interred in Durham cloister, before the chapter door.
St. Carileph, though urged, refused to allo\v his
decaying body to intrude \vithin St. Cuthbert's to,ver-
ing Ininster, the noble n10nument \\Thich he had
raised." His possessions, like those of other bishops
\vho died in this reign; \\'ere seized by Ralph Flanl-

x.]

FliVAL QUARREL WITH fVILLIA11I.

21 7

bard and his brother Fulbert for the king's use.
Three years and a half after\vards Ralph Flambard
gained his great bishopric for hin1self--" the Palatine
see" of England.
A year of con1parative respite foIlo\ved. The year
1096 \vas a busy year for the king. It had begun
,vith the signal vengeance taken by hin1 at Salisbury
against the conspirators of the year before, and it \vas
the year of the First Crusade. All Europe \,"as stirred by
an impulse \,"hich seemed to set not armies but \vhole
populations in motion, and to reverse the long accus-
tomed current of migration, turning it back\vard to
the East. Robert of Normandy, unable to govern,
but ready for adventure and fresh conquest, ,vas car-
ried a\yay by the enthusiasm of the time; he had no
Inoney, and \Villiam sa\v at last his opportunity arrive.
He bought Normandy of his brother for three years.
The 1110ney \vas. as usual, to be dra\vn from England,
and the statements of Eadnler and the English
chroniclers 111ay \vell be believed that it ,vas a hard
time for England. The lands \,.ere racked; the
churches spoiled of their treasures-their chalices, and
reliquaries, and volun1es of the Gospels bound in gold
and silver. Anselm only suffered as the rest. He had
of course to furnish his contribution, and he judged
it but reasonable and fitting that he should do so.
But the see had been so il11povf'rished that his o\vn
n1eans \vere insufficient; he had to take t\yO hundred
ll1arks of silver from the treasury of the Church of
Canterbury; and that it ll1ight not be a bad precedent
to his successors, he luortgaged to the Church his
archiepiscopal manor of Peckhan1 for seven years to
repay the debt. It \\Tas a good bargain for the monks,

218 FINAL QUARREL lYITH rVILLIA11f. lCHAP.

and \vith the Peckham rents they built part of their
church. But Eadmer is particular in giving these
details, because even \vhile he ,vas \vriting, there \vere
those \vho accused Anselm of robbing the Church of
Canterbury. Bet\veen the king and the monks his
n10ney difficulties \vere not easy to arrange.
But other difficulties \vere soon to return on him.
\Va]es \vas as troublesome to \Villiam as Ireland \yas.
to Elizabeth. He marched through the country, but
he failed to subdue it; and he lost many men and
horses in the attempt. In 1097 he tried to strike a nlore
serious blo\v; but little came of it. He can1e back
in ill-hun10ur. Anseln1 again felt it. He received a
letter from the king, complaining of the contingent
of soldiers \vhon1 the archbishop had sent to the
arn1Y: "He had nothing but evil thanks to give
him for them; they \vere insufficiently equipped, and
not fit for the \vork required." The king therefore
required him to be ready to "do the king right" for
their default, according to the judgment of the !(ing's
Court, \vhenever the king chose to sun1mon hinl.
" IVe looked for peace," said Anselm, \vhen he received
the message, " but no good CGJJle
. for a tÙlle of Ilealtll,
and be/lold trouble." He had, says Eadmer, been
biding his tilne in hope to get the king's ear, and had
been restraining the impatience of those \vho urged
him about the state of Christian religion; but no,v he
sa,v that his opponents \vere too strong for him. The
sumn10ns before the King's Court n1eant at the tÏIne
a foregone concl usion against the defendant. The king
had him no\v at his n1ercy, not on a question of
religion, but of feudal service. " The king," says Sir
F. Pa1grave, ",vas judge in his Court "rhenever he

x.]

FINAL QUARREL It-7TH IVILLIAJI.

21 9,

pleased. The security of securities, the doctrine that
the king had irrevocably delegated his judicial
authority to the ermine on the bench, required
centuries ere it could be perfected. Let the reader
carefully treasure this in his mind, and recollect that
.when, in r\nglo-Norman times, you speak of the 'King's.
Court,' it is only a phrase for the king's despotism."
U Kno\ving," says Eadmer, " that all judgments of the
l{ing's Court depended on the king's \vord, and that
nothing ,vas considered there but "'hat he ,villed,.
Anselm thought it an unbecoming farce to strive as
litigants do about a verbal charge, and to submit the
truth of his cause to the judgment of a court, of ,vhich
neither la\v, nor equity, nor reason ,vere the ,varrant.
He held his peace therefore, and gave no ans,ver to
the messenger, looking on this kind of sun1n10ns as
belonging to that class of annoyances ,vhich he ,rell
ren1embered; and this only he earnestly prayed, that
God \vould calm them." But he made up his mind
that he \vas po\verless to stop the mischief and \vrong,.
for \vhich yet he ,vas looked upon as partly respon-
sible. There \vas but one course for hin1. He must
seek counsel and support from the head of the
Hierarchy and the Church.
.At the \Vhitsun meeting, \vhile people were asking
,vhat \vas to come of this charge, ,vhether Anselm
\vould have to pay a large fine, or to submit to the
king and never lift up his head more, he sent a request
to the king for perrnission to go to Rome. The request
,vas a surprise. \Villiam refused. cc Anselm could have
no sin needing such absolution; and as for counsel,.
that he ,vas more fit to give it to the' Apostolicus,'
the .L-\postlc's \Ticar, than the ..:\ postolicus to give it to

220

FINAL QUARREL
VITH IVILLIAlII.

[CHAP.

him." II Perhaps, if not this time, he ,vill grant ll1e
leave next time," ,vas Anselm's ans\ver; but nothing
1110re ,vas heard of the charge in the King's Court.
Again at a great meeting in August Anseln1 rene\ved
his request ,vith the like result. In October he came
by appointment to the king at vVinchester, and
again repeated his prayer. The king perelnptorily
refused, \vith threats if he persisted in his request,
or if he ,vent ,vithout leave. The scenes of Rock-
inghan1 ,vere repeated. \Valkelin the Bishop of
\Vinchester took the place ,yhich had been filled by
\Villiam of Durham, and ,vas joined as before by
several other bishops. They urged obedience to
the king, and the uselessness of going to the Pope.
\Vhen Anselm urged their duties as bishops of the
Church of God, they plainly said, that such high
vie\vs \vere very \vell for a man like Anselm; but
they had their friends and relations to think of;
they had important business to care for; and they
could not afford to "rise to his heights, or despise
this ,vorId ,vith him." " You have said ,veIl," ,vas
the ans\ver: "go to your lord, I ,vill hold to my
God." nut no,v the barons \vere against him. It
,vas not according to the custon1S of the realn1 that
a man of .l\nselm's dignity should leave it ".ithout
the king's licence; and they urged strongly that
Anselm had s\vorn to obey these customs. " Accord-
ing to right, and according to God," he iInmediately
rejoined; but the qualification ,vas scouted. The
discussion becan1e hot and vehement. Ansehll had
proceeded straight to the king's presence, ,vhen this
ll1essage about the obligation of his oath ,vas brought
to him; and seating hin1self, according to the cuSt0111,

x.]

FI1VAL QUARREL IVITH H/ILLIAJI.

221

at the king's right hand, maintained the necessary
limitations of all oaths, and the ties \vhich bound
hinl, as a duty to God, to allegiance to the Head of
Christendom. " You, 0 king," he said, "\vould not
take it easily if one of your rich and po\verful vassals
hindered one of his dependants, \vho was busy on
your service, from doing the duty to \vhich by his
fealty he \vas bound." "A sermon, a sermon!" cried
out together the king and Robert Count of l\lellent ;
and this \vas a signal for a general outcry. Anselm
listened, and then \vent on quietly. " You \vant me
to s\vear, in order that you may feel safe of me,
that I \vill never more appeal to St. Peter or his
Vicar. This is a demand \vhich as a Christian you
ought not to make. For to s\vear this is to fors\vear
St. Peter; and to fors\vear St. Peter is to fors\vear
Christ, \vho has made him chief over His Church.
"VVhen then I deny Christ, then I \vill readily pay
the penalty in your court, for asking for this licence."
The Count of l\lellent made a scornful reply: "H e
might present himself to Peter and the Pope;
they kne\v \vell enough \vhat they \vere about." "God
kno\vs," Anselnl answered, "what a\vaits you; and
He \vill be able to help me, if He \vills it, to the
tþreshold of His apostles." The conlpany broke
up. A message follo\ved Anselm, to the effect that,
if he \vent himself, he \vas to carry nothing a\vay
\vith hinl belonging to the king. Ie Does he mean
my horses, and dress, and furniture, \vhich he may
perhaps call his o\vn?" The message ,vas a burst
of that mere desire to insult and annoy \vhich
William \vas ashanled of \"hen he had indulged it;
and he sent \vord that Anselm \vas \vithin ten days to

222

FIIV
1L QU.ARREL IVITH
VILLIA11I.

[ CHAP.

be at the sea, and there the king's officer \\rould
meet him, to settle ,vhat he might take ,,,ith him.
The parting then had come, perhaps the leavetaking.
Anselm's affectionate nature \vas n10ved, and he
could not restrain a burst of kindly feeling. Nor
,vas William himself llnmoved by it. vVith cheerful
and bright countenance he returned to the king:
"My lord," he said, "I go. If it could have been
\vith your good-\vill, it ,vould have better become
you, and been n10re agreeable to all good people.
But as things have gone contrary, though on your
behalf I am sorry, yet as far as I am concerned, I
\\rill bear it ,vith an even mind, and not for this \vill
I give up, by God's mercy, my love for your soul's
heal tho And no\\', not kno\ving \vhen I shall see you
again, I commend you to God; and as a spiritual
father to hrs beloved son, as the Archbishop of Can-
terbury to the IZing of England, I ,vould fain before
I go, if you refuse it not, give God's blessing and
my o\vn." a I refuse not thy blessing," the king
ans\vered. He bo\ved his head, and Anselm lifted his
right hand, and made the sign of the cross on him.
And so they parted: on Thursday, Oct. 15, 1097.
Anseln1 returned at once to Canterbury, ,,'here,
after taking leave of the m()nks, he took at the altar
the pilgrim's staff and scrip, and set forth to Dover.
At Dover he \vas detained a fortnight by the ,veather,
and he found there the king's officer, one of the
clerks of the royal chapel, \Villiam Warehvast, \vho
lived \vith him during his detention. When at last
the ,vind became fair and Anselm ,vas embarking,
William \Varehvast, to the surprise and disgust of
the bystanders, came fonvard, and required all the

x.]

FI1YAL QUARREL IVITH IVILLIA.JI.

')')"1
--.)

baggage to be searched. It ,vas meant as a part-
ing indignity; and it can1e the \vorse fron1 an eccle-
siastic \\"ho had been living all the time at Anseln1's
table. But no treasure \vas found; and he and his
company landed safely at \Vitsand. \Villiam imn1e-
diatcly seized the property of the see, and kept it
till his death.
And thus began that systen1 of appeals to Rome,
and of inviting foreign interference in our home
concerns, ,vhich gre\v to such a mischievous and
scandalous height; and Anselm ,,,as the beginner of
it. Yet he began it not only in good faith but \vith
good reason. He had the strongest grounds and the
most urgent motives for insisting on it; and his
single-handed contest ,vith po,ver in order to maintain
it ,vas one of the steps, and though one serving but
for the tin1e, not the least noble and impressive of the
steps, in the long battle of la,v against tyranny,
of reason against self-\vilI, of faith in right against
,\'orldliness and brute-force. It is true that, un an-
s\verable as Anseln1's pleas \vere according to the
universal traditions and understandings of the time,
the instinct of the la \vless king and his subservient
prelates ,vas right, even \vhen they kne,v not ho\v to
silence Anselm and their o,vn conscience, and 'were
leagued together, the one to defy all control, the
other to uphold injustice as the price of serving their
o\vn interests. They ,vere right, though for ,vrong
reasons, in their jealousy of any rival to the cro,vn in
England: and experience has amply sho,vn, century
after century, that supreme and irresponsible authority
has no protection against the most monstrous abuse
by being for spiritual ends; and that the pOVier

224

FlJ.VAL QUARREL lVlTN IVlLLL41Jf.

[CHAP.

of that great tribunal \vhich Hildebrand imagined
and created, to keep the great ones of the earth in
order and to maintain the right of the helpless against
the mighty, quickly became, in the hands of men, as
la\vless, as unscrupul
us, as infamously selfish, as the
worst of those tyrannies of this \vorld \vhich it pro-
fessed to encounter \"ith the la \v of God and the
authority of Christ. But in Anselm's time all this
was yet future, and men must do their \vork \vith the
instruments and under the conditions of the present.
To him the present sho\ved a throne of judgment,
different in its origin and authority from all earthly
thrones; a common father and guide of Christians
\vhom all ackno\vledged, and \vho \vas clothed \vith
prerogatives \vhich all believed to come from above;
a la\v of high purpose and scope, embodying the
greatest principles of justice and purity, and ailning,.
on the \videst scale, at the elevation and improve-
ment of society; an administration of this la\v,
\vhich regarded not persons and was not afraid of
the face of man, and told the truth to ambitious
emperors and adulterous kings and queens. In Eng-
land Anselm had stood only for right and liberty;
he, the chief \vitness for religion and righteousness,
sa\v all round him vice rampant, men spoiled of \vhat
\vas their o\vn-justice, decency, honour, trarnpled
under foot. La\v \vas unknown, except to ensnare
and oppress. The King's Court \vas the instrument
of one man's selfish and cruel \vill, and of the devices
of a cunning and greedy nlinister. The natural reme-
dies of \vrong \vere destroyed and corrupted; the
king's peace, the king's law', the king's justice, to
\vhich men in those days looked for help, could only

x.]

FI1VAL Q
TARREL IVITH
VILLIAlJf.

225

be thought of in mocking contrast to the reality.
Against this energetic reign of misrule and injustice,
a resistance as energetic \vas \vanted; and to resist it
,vas felt to be the call and bounden duty of a man in
Anselm's place. He resisted, as ,vas the ,yay in those
days, man to man, person to person, in outright
fashion and plain-spoken ,vords. He resisted la,vless-
ness, \yickedness, oppression, corruption. \;Vhen others
acquiesced in the evil state, he refused; and further,
he taught a lesson ,vhich England has since largely
learned, though in a very different \vay. He taught
his generation to appeal from force and arbitrary ,vill
to la,v. It \vas idle to talk of appealing to la,v in
England; its time had not yet come. But there ,vas
a very real and living la,v in Christendom; a la\v, as
\ve kno\v no,v, of very mixed and questionable gro\vth,
yet in those days unsuspected, and in its character far
more complete, rational, and imposing than any other
code \vhich had gro\vn up in that stage of society-
equal, impartial, \vith living and po\verful sanctions.
On it Anselm cast himself. fVe see, perhaps, in ,vhat
he did, an appeal against his king, against the con-
stitution of England and the independent rights of the
nation, to a foreign po\ver. If \ve see \vith the eyes
of his o\vn age, ,vc shall see the only appeal practi-
cable then from arbitrary rule to la 'v.
If anyone ,vishes to see the modern counterpart of
this quarrel on a still vaster and more eventful scale,
let him read the detailed history of the conflict
bet\veen the Emperor Napoleon and Pope Pius VII.I
There, as in this case, on the ultimate rights and
grounds of the controversy, synlpathies \vere, in
1 D'Haussonville, L'ÉgIise Romaine et Ie Premier Empire.
S.L. x. Q

226 FINAL QUARREL
VITH IVILLIAiJI.

England at least, much divided. All but those
\vho accept the claims of the ROlnan see, ,vill think
that the Pope ,vas fighting for a po,ver based for
centuries on usurpation and false teaching, and in its
results full of mischief to the ,vorld. All but those
,vho think re1igion tIle creature and minister of the
state, ,vill hold that if Napoleon resisted wrongful
claims and upheld the just demands of la,v and civil
government, he did so \vith cruel contempt for the
faith and consciences of men, ,vith the most arbitrary
and insolent imposition of his o,vn ,viII. The cause of
religious freedom ,vas mixed up \vith that of the mis-
government of the Roman court; the cause of civil
independence ,vas mixed up ,vith that of pitiless
despotism. In the conduct of the quarrel, too, though
the balance of ,vrong ,vas immeasurably on one side,
the side ,vhich suffered such monstrous injury "Tas not
free from blame: Pius VII. did many things ,vhich,
though they 'vere as nothing compared with the
\vickedness of his oppressor, yet must be read of ,vith
regret. But the quarrel ,vas, after all, one bet,veen
true sense of duty and belief in spiritual truth on the
one hand, and brutal irresistible force, professedly
contemptuous of truth and duty, on the other. It ,vas
a contest bet,veen the determination to do right at all
hazards, held to under the severest trials ,vi th a meek
digni ty and an unfailing Christian charity; and the
resolution to break that spirit, no,v \vith the most
terrible menaces, no,v ,vith the nlost incredible and
astounding indignities, no,v ,vith the coarsest and vul-
garest temptations of money or selfish convenience.

CHAPTER XI.

AXSEL:\1 ox THE COXTIXEXT.

" It is not long since these two eyes beheld
A mighty prince of most renowned race,
"'hom England high in count of honour held,
And greatest ones did sue to gain his grace;
Of greatest ones, he greatest in his place.
* * * * *
I saw him die, I saw him die, as one
Of the mean people, and brought forth on bier;
I saw him die, and no man left to moan
His doleful fate, that late him loved dear;
Scarce any left to close his eyelids near;
Scarce any left upon his lips to lay
The sacred sod, or requiem to say."
SPEXSER'S Rui1ls of Time.

AXSEL
I, in the nlonth of November 1097, began his
,vinter journey to Italy, accompanied by t\VO friendg,
Bald\vin of Tournai, his most trusted agent, and
Eadmer, \vho has preserved in his simple and clear
manner a curious record of the details of a journey
in those days. Their resting-places \vere generally
the monasteries \vhich \vere to be found at the end of
each day's ride. Anselm, of course, v{as received with
honour; but there \vas, besides, a charm about his
personal presence and manner, ,,-hich Eadmer delights
to d\vell upon. At St. Orner, he relates, children \vere
brought to Anselrn in great numbers for confirmation,
and then, as no bishop had confirmed there for a long
Q2

228

Alv-SELfl:f ON THE CONTIl\TENT.

[CHAP.

time, came gro\vn persons. cc l\Ien and \vomen, great
and small, you might see rushing from their houses,
and crowding to our lodging." He spent several days
there, and on the last morning, just as they \vere
mounting their horses, a young girl came begging
41
\vith tears to be confirmed. He \vould not have
refused, but his companions objected to being de-
layed: there \vas a long day before them; it \vas
dangerous to be overtaken by the night in unkno\vn
roads; there \vere others, too, \vaiting about the door
who \vould make the same request. He \vas over-
ruled, and they started. But as they rode along, the
poor girl's \vish came back to his thoughts and made
hinl very unhappy. lIe could not forget it; and \vhile
he lived, he said, he should never forgive himself for
having sent the child a\\Tay \vith a refusal.
He spent Christmas at Cluni, where he had a friend
in the abbot, Hugh, the old superior of Prior Hilde-
brand, the counsellor of Pope Gregory; and he
spent the rest of the winter \"ith another Hugh, also
one of Gregory's friends, like him a monk of Cluni,
the energetic and ambitious Archbishop of Lyons,
\vho had almost added another to the anti-popes of
the time, because he \vas not chosen Pope in Gregory's
place. In the spring, Anselm, \"ith his t\VO com-
panions, travelling as simple monks, passed into
I taly by the Mont Cenis, \vhich so n1any years before
he had crossed, going north\vards to find his calling.
Eadmer likes to tell of the perils of robbers \vhich
they escaped, and \vhich "Tere increased in their case,
partly by the reports of the \vealth of an Archbishop
of Canterbury, partly by the hostility of the partisans
of the emperor and the anti-pope, \vho held the

XL]

Al\/SEL111 01\/ THE CONTINENT.

229

passes, to all travellers \vho \vere on the side of
Pope Urban. He tells, too, ,vith a kind of simple
an1usement, ho\v \vell they preserved their ÙlCOg-
1lito h,o\v the monks at different monasteries told
them about Anselm's movements, or asked ne\vs
about hin1; and ho\v skilfully Bald\vin put them off
from any suspicion about their unkno\vn guest. He
stopped for Passiontide and Easter at the monas-
tery of St. Michael, near Chiusa, the convent on the
great hill that seen1S to shut the valley bet\veen
Susa and Turin; the spot \vhere the Lombard Desi-
derius vainly tried to make his stand against Charles,
King of the Franks-the Sagro di Sa1l11Iichele, one of
the burial-places of the kings of the House of Savoy,
,vhich still arrests travellers, \vho can be tempted to
turn aside fronl the hurry of the raihvay, by a singular
mixture of natural beauty \vith ancient remains of
great interest. In due time they arrived at Rome.
At Ron1e they, like so many ?thers, ,vere to find
disenchantment, and to con1e on those hard resisting
realities of difficulty and necessity \vhich cause such
abatements and retrenchments in all practical theories.
The Pope in Anseltn's theory ,vas the divinely con-
stituted and divinely supported (ather of Christendom,
the oracle of truth, the deîender of the oppressed, the
avenger of \vrong, armed \vith po\ver from Heaven,
before \\Thich the proud must qU3.il; in the reality, he
,vas a conscientious but ,vise and cautious old man
,vith long and varíed experience of the ,vorld, encom-
passed \vith trouble and danger, and hardly maintain-
ing a very precarious footing; \vith the empire and
half Italy against him, ,vith an anti-pope keeping St.
Angelo in ROlne itself, and fully alive to the necessity

3 0

AAYSELJI O.Y THE CO.lYTI.J.YE...YT.

[ CH_-\P.

of prudence and a ,vary policy. X othing could
exceed the honour and synlpath, sho\vn to r\nselnl.
He ,,-as lodged in the Lateran ,yith Urban; he ,,-as
sho,vn to the court as the great chanlpion of its
clainE, in distant and strange England; Eadnler, in
his delight and adn1Ïration, does not kno\\F \yhich to
be most pleased ,vith, Anselnl's nlodestyand humility,
and the irrèsistible charnl of his unselfishness and
s,,-eetness, or the extraordinary respect paid to him.
it In assenlblies of the nobles, in stations, in pro-
cessions, he ,,-as second only to the Pope hinlself.'"
The Pope spoke of hinl as his equal, IC the Patriarch,
the Apos/oliclIs or Pope of a second ".orId." But
Urban had many disputes on his hands, and he ,vould
not, if he could help it, add another \yith so reckless
and so dangerous a person as \\Tilliam of England.
Letters, of course, ,,-ere "Titten, to renlonstrate and
require amendment. Letters canle back, accusing
Anseln1 of leaving England ,vithout the king's leave;
and ,vith the letters, ,yhat ordinarily accompanied
them, gifts of money, not of course for Urban, ,vho
\vas quite above all suspicion, but for the people
round him, of ,,-horn it is equally taken for granted, by
Eadmer as by other ,,-riters of the time, that money
,vas of much po,,-er ,,-ith them. \\Tilliam's en\"oys
"Fere roughly and sharply chided; his conduct ,,-as
declared to be ,vithout excuse. Anselm's cause ,,-as
laid before councils; threats ,,-ere held out if amend-
ment \\Fas not sho,,-n by a fixed time. But ,,"hen a
year and a half had passed, ,,
nselm and his company
became convinced that the Pope could do nothing for
them; he had too much on his hands to take up in
earnest another serious quarrel; and it ,vas plain that

I.]

_YSELJ O...V THE CO YTI_VE_ -T.

2]1

he ,vas n(,
goir:
be .ond '\vords apd hreats. He
tried to make up by the honours \vhich 1:e lav.3!:ed '1
_-\ nselm for the li:tle 5ubstantial help he \\ as able to
give him.
Rome ,vas an unheaL.hy residence for s..rangers;
ê..
d a.L-
er !:is
rsl.. reception _-\nselm acce ted ..he .-:vi-
tation oi an old Italian scholar oi Bee, now abbot (jf a
monastery at T elese, on the Calore, near Benevento
,,0 take up his abode vtith him. The Pope approved
of Lhe arrangement:
-\bbot John ,vas "...he J 03e
-
s....nt before bv God's providence to prepare for his
father Jacob." The summer hea:s v,-ere "burning up
everything round," and made even T elese a dangerous
sojourn for the northern strargers; a
d the abbo

ra::5ferred the
to a moun
i'" villaçc: belor.;i'1
-';)
the monastery, called Schlavia (Schia\';). Here, ami
his ,,-anderings and troubles, _-\.nselm had a summer
of respite and refreshment. The .t:le \';ll2.
e \\-2..05
perched on a hie-"op; J:ere ,vas no orre liv:"!;- in i
bu: J1e labourers and a 110nk \vho superin:ended
:hem : the summer s1..-y \vas bright, the mountain air
\\-as s,,-eet and fresh and hea" :by, v. hile the plains
;vere fai ..t
ng '\\-ith :he hea
.
-\fter his vexed a:"d
\\ eary life, the old man's heaJ._ leaped up a: ;;;
charms of nature and repose. C 1 . S f he
broke forth, in the words of the Psalm-" Here shill
be my rest for ever: here will I dwell, for I
ave a
d
lig
:
J1erei:..." He ,veT': bac
a: c,::ce to rFs 01..:
habi
s of life, as v, hen he \vas a simple monk,and beÎo

he had any office; he resumed his old train 0 work
In the midst of the s..rife and troubles of his last yea

i:: England he had thol: 6 .. 01.lL é..:1d had be;un to
compo
e a 'work \vhich ,vas, like o
1.er \vor;:s 01- his, to

23 2

Al./SEL11I ON THE C01.VTINENT.

[CHAP.

open ne\v vie\vs in theology, and permanently to affect
the thoughts of men. It ,vas the famous dialogue,
Cur Delis HOJJ10, in ,vhich, seeking the rational ground
of the Incarnation, he lays do\vn a profound and
original theory of the Atonement, ,vhich, ,vhether
accepted or impugned, has tnoulded the character of
all Christian doctrine about it since. \Vhat he began
amid the fears and distresses of uncongenial England,
he finished in the light and peaceful sunImer days of
his mountain retreat at Schiavi. As \vas to be ex-
pected, the presence of such a man raised the expec-
tation of miracles. The name of the .l\rchbishop of
Canterbury clung for centuries to a \vell of fresh and
health-giving ,vater, the spring of ,vhich ,vas said to
have gushed out of the rock in ans\ver to his prayers.
But he could not long enjoy retirement. He had
to meet the Pope in the camp of the Nornlan Duke
of Apulia, before Capua; and there Eadn1er notices
again that ever-present charm of face and manner
,vhich attracted to him the reverence and interest of
the heathen H Saracens" of Duke Roger's army, over
,vhom Anseltn's presence exercised such a spell that
they ahvays saluted him as he passed by, H raising
their hands to heaven, kissing their hands to him,
and kneeling do\vn before him;" and many of them
would have given then1selves to him to be taught and
converted by him if they had not been afraid of the
Duke's cruel discipline. He earnestly entreated the
Pope to relieve him of the archbishopric: his expe-
rience of William sho\ved that they never could ,york
together; and travellers from the \Vest brought over
ne\v stories of his brutal scorn for all religious belief
and feelings. But such a step did not suit the papal

XI.]

AIYSELJI DiV THE CD
VTll\"'E1YT.

233

policy any more than a declared breach ,vith the
king. All kinds of good reasons ,vere addressed to
Anselm ,vhy he should keep his archbishopric. He
,vas invited to be present at the Council of Bari
(October 1098), of \vhich Eadmer gives, after his
fashion, a curious account. Anselm ,vas made n1uch
of; the famous theologian ,vas called upon to defend
the language of the \ V estern creed against the
Greeks; and Eadmer tells of the flattering language
in ,vhich the Pope invited him to address the assen1-
bly, of the mingled interest and curiosity of the
audience, not quite fan1iliar ,vith his name, but cro,,,d-
ing and getting the best seats to hear one ,vhon1 the
Pope so distinguished, and of the adn1iration ,vhich
his learning and argun1ents excited. The Pope pro-
ceeded to lay before the council Anselm's dispute
,vith the king, and the sympathy of the council ""as
so roused, that \vhen the Pope asked their opinion,
they ,vere of one mind in advising the king's excom-
munication; and it ""as hindered only, says Eadmer,
by Anselm's intercession. It nlay, perhaps, be doubt-
ful ,vhether the l')ope meant more than a demonstra-
tion. Fron1 the council at Bari they returned for the
,vinter to Rome. There, also, appeared \Vil1iam \Varel-
,vast, ,vith ,,"hOn1 Anselm had parted on the beach
at Dover, to state the king's case against ....\nselm.
In the public audience the Pope ,,,as severe and per-
en1ptory. But \Vareh,'ast prevailed on the Pope to
grant a private intervie\v; he distributed his gifts among
those about the Pope; and the result ""as that nine
months' grace ,vas granted to the king to arrange
the matter instead of three, from Christmas 10 9 8 .
H Seeing \vhich things," says Eadmer, "\ve under-

234

A1VSELM OiV THE C01.VTI1\lENT.

[CHAP.

stood that we vainly looked for counselor help there,
and ,ve resolved to ask leave to return to Lyons."
But the Pope could not let Anselm go. A council
\vas to be held about Easter time at the Lateran, and
he must 'vait for it. Mean\vhile every honour \yas
paid to him. vVhen the council met, the masters of
ceremonies ,vere puzzled \vhere to place hinl; for
no Archbishop of Canterbury had ever attended a
council in Ronle. The Pope ordered a seat to be
set for him in the most honourable place. The
council (April, 1099) rene\ved various decrees of
discipline on the subjects \vhich occupied the Church
reformers of the time; simony, clerical marriage,
and lay investiture. The English ecclesiastics heard
the decree of exconlmunication passed \vith acclama-
tion against all ,vho gave and all ,vho received the
investiture of churches from lay hands, and ,vho,
for church honours, became" the men," of temporal
lords; that is, against \vhat had been the established
and unquestioned usage in England and Normandy
to \vhich Anselnl himself had conformed. But a re-
111arkable incident startled and impressed the ass em-
bl y. vVhen the canons \vere to be read in St. Peter's,
the cro\vd being very great, and there being much
noise ll1ade by the stream of people going and com ing
at St. Peter's tomb, the Bishop of Lucca, Reinger by
name, a man of tall stature, and loud and ringing
voice, ,vas appointed to read them. He began; but
,vhen he had got a little ,yay his countenance kindled,
and under the influence of strong elTIotion he stopped.
"What are ,ve doing here?" he said, looking round
the assembly. "\V e are loading n1en ,vith la\vs, and
,ve dare not resist the cruelties of tyrants. IIither

XI.]

ANSELfiI ON THE C01\lTIJVENT.

235

are brought the complaints of the oppressed and the
spoiled; fron1 hence, as fron1 the head of all, counsel
and help are asked for. And 'with ,vhat result all the
,vorld kllO'VS and sees. One is sitting among us from
the ends of the earth, in modest silence, still and
meek. But his silence is a loud cry. The deeper
and gentler his humility and patience, the higher it
rises before God, the 1110re should it kindle us. This
one man, this one man, I say, has come here in
his cruel afflictions and \\-Tongs, to ask for the juùg-
n1ent and equity of the apostolic see. And this is the
second year; and 'what help has he found? If you
do not all kno\v ,vhom I mean, it is Anselm, Arch-
bishop of England :" and ,vith this he thrice struck his
staff violently on the floor, and a burst of breath fron1
his closed teeth and lips sho,ved his indignation.
H Brother Reinger," exclaimed the Pope, "enough,
enough. Good order shall be taken about this."
Reinger, dra\ving his breath, rejoined, "There is
good need. For othenvise the thing \vill not pass
\vith him \vho judges justly." And proceeding to
read the canons, he finished \vith a further \varning
before he sat do\vn. But this burst of feeling led
to nothing, and n1eant nothing. "On the follo\ving
day," says Eadlner, "\ve got leave, and ,ve left Rome,
having obtained nought of judgment or advice through
the Roman Bishop, except ,vhat I have said."
Anselm found his \vay again to Lyons, and lived
there, helping his friend the archbishop. I n the
follo,,'ing July (1099) Urban died. "1\Iay God's
hatred light on him \vho cares for it," is said to
have been \Villiam's rel11ark ,,,hen he heard it: "and
\vhat sort of person is his successor?" "A n1an 111

23 6

A.LVSELJI OJ.V THE CO.t.VTIl\TENT.

[CHAP.

son1e respects like Anselm," ,vas the ans\\
er. " By
God's countenance, then, he is no good. But he may
keep to himself, for his Popeship shall not this tinle
get over me. I "Till use ll1Y freedoll1 110'\7." Every-
thing seemed to prosper ,vith him, says Eadmer;
even the ,\Tind, if he '\Tanted to cross to Normandy,
served his ,vishes. " It seenled as if God ,vould try
ho,v far he n1ight be touched by having all things to
his Inind." There ,vas 110 longer anyone to trouble
him, duke, king, or pope. Ralph Flan1bard became
Bishop of Durham. \Villiam built no churches, but
he cOll1pleted a great n1emorial of himself, destined
to ,vitness more memorable scenes of English jus-
tice and English injustice than any other place in
the land, the great Hall at \\' estminster. There in
1100, for the second time, he ,yore his cro\vn at Pente-
cost, and gathered his great council. On the second
of the follo,ving August he perished by an uncertain
hand in the N e,v Forest.
Anseln1 had been all this time in Gaul, spending
his time partly at Lyons, partly at places around,
Vienne, Cluni, l\lacon, confirn1ing, preaching, ,vriting.
\\Then he confirmed for the Archbishop of Lyons, the
people flocked to hin1 to receive the H holy anoint-
ing ;" ,vhole days "Tere spent in the administration,
and his attendants ,vere very \yeary; but he never
lost his bright and cheerful nlood, and never ,\'ould
send the people a,vay. "So that," says Eadmer,
H there gre\v up an extraordinary and incredible affec-
tion for hin1 among all the people, and his goodness
\vas spoken of far and ,vide." From such a nlan the
ideas of the day expected miracles; the sick calne to
hin1 for relief; his attendants ,vere ready to believe

Xl.]

A
YSELJI O...V THE CON TliYE.LYT.

237

that they had good reason for coming; and Eadmer
has his confident stories of cures, ,vhich he relates as
an eye-,,,itness. As Eadn1er tells them, they do not
read like inventions; they are the genuine impressions,
told in good faith, of one whose ,vhole n1anner of
thought n1ade them to him the most likely things in the
,vorld. As regards Anselm himself, as far as appears
from Eadmer, he believed, like everybody else, that
miraculous help might be expected and besto,ved; he
believed in the probability of such ans,vers to prayer;
but he shrunk altogether fron1 the thought of miracu-
lous gifts being entrusted to hin1 or ascribed to hitn.
T,vo stories illustrate at once the ,vay in ".hich people
believed, and the natural behaviour of a good man,
humble and true, and trying to think as he ought
about himself, ,vho did not disbelieve the possibility
or even the frequency of such exercises of God's
po,ver and mercy.
HAt Vienne," says Eadmer, H ,,"hen he ,vas taking his
repast after having celebrated mass and preached, bvo
knights came before him, in forn1 and voice sho,ving
the marks of serious illness, and asking him to deign to
give them some crumbs fron1 the bread ,,"hich he ,vas
eating. ' No,' he said, 'I see that you "'ant neither
a ,vhole loaf nor crumbs. But if you are plèased to
partake, there is plenty of room; sit do,vn, and, ,vith
the blessing of God, eat ".hat is set before you.' They
had not come for this, they ans\\-ered. 'I cannot do
anything else for you,' he said, for he perceived ".hat
they had meant. One of those ,\'ho ,vere sitting on his
right sa,v that they had come for health, and that
Anselm ,vould do nothing ,vhich might be set do,vn
to a miracle; so, as if tired of their importunity,

38

ANSELi11 ON THE CONTIl\TENT.

[CHAP.

this person took a fragment from the table and
gave it then1, and told them to retire, lest they should
annoy the archbishop. They accordingly \vent out
\vith his blessing, and tasted the bread. After dinner
they took me aside, ;1.nd earnestly begged of me to
help them to receive. the comn1union of the Lord's
body and blood fron1 his hands at mass. I \villingly
agreed, and told them \vhen and \vhere it might be
done. They ans\\
ered thankfully, and said, '\V e \vill
certainly come, if by this medicine \vhich \ve have
received from his table \ve are not relieved from the
deadly quartan fevers and intolerable pains of body
from \vhich \ve suffer. And this shall be a sign
beÌ\"een us and you: if \ve get \vell, "
e \vill not
come; \ve \"ill con1e if \ve do not.' And so \\Te sepa-
rated." They did not come back; and hence Eadmer
supposes that they \vere healed.
On another occasion "he \vas met, \vhen on his road
to Cluni, by an ecclesiastic, whose sister \vas out of
her lnind, and \vho \vith tears besought him to give
her his blessing and lay his right hand on her. ' By
the \vayside \\There you \vill pass she is held by a
nun1ber of people, \\
ho hope that if you, lny lord, \vill
lay your hand on her, she by God's mercy \vill be
straighÌ\vay restored to her mind.' But Anselm
passed on \vithout speaking, and as if not hearing.
\\Then the priest insisted \vith. many prayers, Anselm
sent him a\vay, saying most earnestly, that on no
account \vould he venture on so strange an act.
l\Ieal1\vhile \ve \vent on, and beheld her in the n1Ïdst of
the cro\vd, sho\ving all the signs of raving madness.
The people surrounded Anseln1, held the reins of his
horse, and redoubled their entreaties that he "Tould

XL]

AA7"SELiJI 01\T THE COiVTIiYE.VT.

:!39

lay his hand on the nliserable \VOnlan. He resists,
saying that \vhat they ask is against good sense and
,,
isdon1. They, after the nlanner of the conlmon
people, urge \\Thatever comes into their heads, hoping
to prevail at least by rude pressure. Then, seeing
that he could not othenvise escape, he yielded to
then1 in this alone, that he did for her \vhat he never
refused to anyone; he lifted up his right hand and
signed her \vith the sign of the holy cross. And then,
urging his horse, he hastened a,\Tay, and pulling the
head of his co,,,l over his face, he kept apart fronl his
companions, and gave vent to his tears at the distress
of the unhappy \voman. So in sorro\v \\ye arrived at
Cluni, and she, pushed on by the cro\\Td, \vent home. Her
foot had scarcely touched the threshold \vhen she \vas
restored to health, and the tongues of all broke out in
praise of Anselm. 'Vhen ,ve heard it at Cluni, \\re \vere
glad, and gave glory and thanks to God for His l11ercy."
As no history at this time, even if only concerned,
so far as this \vas possible, \\-ith secular affairs, \\yas
,vithout miracles, it cannot be expected that such a
life as Anselm's could be \vitnessed \vithout expecting
them, or told \vithout in1plying them. They \\yere part
of the unquestioned belief and tacit assumptions of
everybody \\yho lived round him. Undoubtedly he
believed that such things happened. \Vhat n1Ïght be
looked for in a good man, \vith such a belief, is that he
,vould not refuse his prayer or his blessing, but that he
\\Tould give no encouragement to the ready disposition
to ascribe to him special po\ver and favour. And it
seems plain that \vhile Eadmer "Tas only too glad to
believe miracles of his great master, Anseln1 \\yas
as far as possible from \vishing him to do so.

:q.o

AiVSELiJI D.LV THE CDNTIj\/Ei\
T.

[CHAP.

All our authorities speak of presages of different
kinds preceding \Villiam's death. Such stories are
probably the reflection, after the event, of strong
feelings before it, surviving in men's memory; but it
is remarkable that there should have been such a
variety and such anum ber of stories of the kind. The
different \vriters record their o,\'n omens; Eadmer
among the rest. One of these stories has a curious little
touch of the domestic \vays of the tinle. It ,vas at
Lyons: "The feast of St. Peter, ,vhich is celebrated
on the 1st of August, ,vas at hand; and having said
matins, ,ve, \vho ,vere constantly about Anselm, \vished
to allo\v ourselves sonle sleep. One clerk ,vas lying
near the door of the chamber, and, not yet asleep, had
his eyes shut to go to sleep. And lo! a young man,
in dress and countenance of no mean appearance,
stood and called him by his name-' Adanl, are you
asleep?' , No,' ans\vered the clerk. The young
man said, '\Vould you hear ne,vs?' 'Gladly.' 'I(no,v
then, for certain,' said the other, 'that all the quarrel
bet\veen Archbishop Anselnl and I(ing \Villiam is
ended and appeased.' At these \vords the clerk
eagerly lifted up his head, and opening his eyes,
looked round. But he sa,v no one."
The ne,vs reached Ansel'11 at the Abbey of "God's
House" (Casa Dei, Chaise Dicu), near Brioude, in the
Auvergne country, a little place on the top of a hill,
\vhere, though the monastery has disappeared, a re-
markable church, but much later than Anselm's tinIe,
still remains, ,vith the tombs in it of t,vo Popes,
Clement VI. and Gregory XI., t,vo of the French
Avignon line, \vhose family can1e from the neigh-
bourhood. \Vithin a \veek after \Villiam's death, t\VO

XI.]

ANSELJI ON THE COJ.VTINENT.

:!-1-1

monks, one of Canterbury, the other of Bee, ,vere at
Chaise Dieu ,vith the tidings. Anselm had not ceased
to pray for the king. Eadmer says that he ,vas
greatly affected; he ,vas at first thunderstruck and
silent; then he burst into "the bitterest ".eeping."
The party returned to Lyons; and l11essenger after
n1essenger soon arrived from England, from Canter-
bury, from the king, from the great ll1en of the realm,
urging his instant return. The land ,vas in suspense
till the archbishop ,vent back to sanction ,vhat ,vas
done, and business "Tas at a standstill in the uncer-
tainty created by his absence. The ne,v king, Henry,
,vas especially pressing, promising redress of abuses,
and ,villing attention to his counsel. On the 23rd of
September Anselm's party landed at Dover; and
shortly after he \\Tas ,vith the king at Salisbury.
So sudden and unthought-of an end as \Yilliam's
l11ight have thro,vn England into confusion; but
there had been a l11an on the spot equal to the
crisis, and probably long prepared for it. Henry,
the youngest of the Conqueror's sons, ,vas hunting
in the Ne,v Forest ".hen his brother ,vas shot. As
soon as he heard of ,vhat had happened, he imme-
diately did as \Villiam had done before hin1: he
seized the treasure at \Vinchester, and he laid his
claim to the crO"!1 before the \Vitan, the prelates
and barons assembled about the king; in this case
only a certain number of the great council ,vhich
gathered to the court three times a year. The
king's title had not yet become a matter of pure
inheritance: one ll1an's title ,\.as better than another's,
and birth 'vas an important, for the 1110St part a
preponderating, elenlent in it; but birth alone ,vas
S.L. x. R

24 2

ANSELl1! ON THE C01VTIj\/ENT.

[CHAP.

not a complete and conclusive claim. It had to be
formally and distinctly accepted by the representa-
tives of the land; it had to be sealed and hallo,ved
by an altnost priestly consecration at the hands of
the chief bishop of the Church; and it had to be
accompanied by the most solemn promises to the
people of justice, mercy, and good la \vs. "On the
Thursday [Aug. 2] vVilliam ,vas slain," \vrites the
Peterborough chronicler, "and on the morrow"
buried; and after he ,vas buried, the vVitan, ,vho
\vere then near at hand, chose his brother Henry
for king; and he forth,vith gave the bishopric of
vVinchester to vVilliam Giffard and then ,vent to
London; and on the Sunday following [Aug. 5], before
the altar at vVestminster, he promised to God and
all the people to put do\vn the injustice ,vhich ,vas
in his brother's time, and to keep the best la 'vs
that stood in any king's days before him; and
after this, IVCaurice the Bishop of London hallo\ved
him to be king; and they all in this land submitted
to him, and s\vore oaths and became his men.'"
Informal as the transaction appears, described ,vith
the simplicity of a narrative from the Books of Kings,
it ,vas the right and legitimate procedure-it ,vas
the \vay in ,vhich by the custom and la,vof England
the right of the cro\vn ,vas then given and acquired.
But Henry kne\v that he ,vould have to fight for
it. Robert of Normandy ,vas on his ,vay honle ; he
had never given up his clainl, though his father had
refused to sanction it ; and Robert ,vas sure of a strong
party among the N ornlans in England. At any
rate, Henry might expect as a matter of course to
have his strength tried. His first steps \vere to \\.in

XL]

Alv'SELJf OJ-\" THE CONTliVENT.

243

the feelings of the country on his side by reversing
the misrule of the late reign. He imprisoned Ralph
Flambard, no\v Bishop of Durham, in the To\ver. He
at once recalled Anselm. Far from scrupulous him-
self: he yet disliked the coarse profligacy and riot
,vhich had reigned in \Villiam's court, and at once put
them do\vn. Before the end of the year he tried to
bind himself by another tie to Englishmen, by marry-
ing [Nov. II] the English maiden, Edith, the daughter
oflVlalcolm King of Scotland, and the noble and saintly
l\largaret, one of the last remaining children of the
old English line of kings, H through \vhom the blood
and the right of the Imperial House of vVessex
have passed to the Angevin, the Scottish, and the
German sovereigns of England." 1
Some of Anselm's first dealings \vith Henry ,vere
,vith reference to this Inarriage. He did for Henry,
,vhat Lanfranc had done for Henry's father; he pro-
tected a marriage fair and honourable in all \vays,
and far more deserving of respect than most of the
great marriages of those days, from the prej udices
and narro\v rigour of his o,vn order and his o,vn party.
And he did this more bra vely and ,vith less of
compromise than Lanfranc; he boldly and outright
thre,v aside objections, ,vhich to 11lany of the strict
people of the time must have seemed formidable.
Edith, in the troubled times ,vhich had ended in her
father's death by Norn1an treachery, and her mother's
death in the same ,veek from a broken heart [Nov. 13,
19, 10 93], had been sent to England, to be under
the care of her aunt Christina, Abbess of Romsey.
" She ,vas very beautiful. She inherited her mother's

a Freeman, ii. 3ï o .
R2

244

ANSELlJf ON THE COJVTINE1VT.

[CHAP.

talent, her mother's \varm affections, s\veetness, pa-
tience, piety, and had profited by all the cultivation,
both intellectual and moral, that l\Iargaret had be-
stO'\VCd."l Such a lady \vas likely to have suitors. But
she ,vas said by her aunt Christina to have made her
profession as a nun; and \vhile William the Red
lived she continued at Romsey, \vearing the nun's
dress. \Vhen Henry became king, his thoughts
turned to Edith; it is said that he had before been
a suitor for her hand; and such a marriage \vould
obviously be a politic one. One difficulty \vas soon
disposed of in those days; the \Velsh lady ,vith \vhom
he had been living, after the fashion of the house of
Rollo, though she \vas not his \vife, and \vho had
borne him several children, \vas dismissed and l11arried
to one of his military chieftains, Gerald of \Vindsor,
\vhose lands \vere in Pembrokeshire. The other
difficulty \vas more serious. It ,vas commonly be-
lieved that Edith had taken the vo,vs as a nun.
She denied it, and accounted intelligibly enough for
"rearing the nun's dress and countenancing the belief
that she had taken the veil, in days like those of
\Villiam the Red. Her aunt had forced her to \vear
it to save her from Norman brutality, and had also
\vished to make her a nun in good earnest. But the
niece had resisted, in spite of blo\vs and hard \vords ;
\vhen she dared, she \vould tear off her nun's head-
gear, thro\ving it on the ground and stan1ping upon it.
If her ecclesiastical judge had been a formalist
or a pedant, she might have found it hard to make
him believe her story. But Anseln1, \vhen she ap-
pealed to him as the highest Church authority, put
1 Palgrave, iv. 3 66 .

XL]

A1VSEL.JI 011/ THE CON TI1YEiV T.

245

aside the ecclesiastical prej udices ,,,hich n1ight have
told ,,,ith many against her, and ordered a full and
impartial investigation. She offered to submit her
account of the matter to the judgment of the ,vhole
Church of the English. An assembly of great persons,
religious and secular, ,vas held at Lambeth, then a manor
belonging to Rochester. Commissioners ,vere sent to
the monastery ,vhere Edith had been brought up.
Anselm opened the matter, but abstained from taking
any side, and left it to the justice of this great jury to
decide on the facts. For the principle of the case,
there ,"as a precedent fortified by Lanfranc's great
authority. He had on grounds of equity released
from actual vo,vs ,vomen \vho had taken them from
fear of the violence ,,,hich follo,ved on the Conquest.
The assembly gave their verdict for her. \Vith
this judgment, and ,yith her solemn and circuln-
stantial account of her repugnance to take vows,
,,,hich Anseln1 himself must have thought as high and
noble as they ,vere inviolable, he ,vas satisfied. He
pronounced her free; he frankly accepted her story;
and he refused the confirnlation \vhich she offered
of any of the further proofs or ordeals ,vhich \\.ere
in use at the time. Before a great gathering of the
nobility, and the "lesser people" cro,,,ding the doors
of the church and surging all round it, to \\'itness the
marriage and benediction of the ne,v queen, Anselm
stood up and declared the manner and result of the
inquiry; and then, according to the custonl still in
use, called on anyone who doubted, or ,vho thought
that by the Christian la,v the marriage ,vas unla,vful,
to stand forth and speak his mind. Such a challenge
in these days, as \ve have seen in the case of the

245 A1ÇSELAl ON THE CO.J.VTINENT.

Conqueror's funeral, ,vas not sin1ply forn1al ; but a
shout of assent \vas the ans,ver.
This judgn1ent, larger and more generous than
,vould have been given by many good men of his
day, gave to Henry a queen \vho \vas \vorthy of her
place, \vhose influence \vas throughout for gentleness
and right, and \vho, under her changed N orn1an
name, adopted perhaps fron1 Henry's n1other, became
dear to Englishmen as "Good Queen Maude." Eu t
there \vere n1any people, Eadmer says, relating the
matter as having been present and as having seen
and heard everything, \vho blan1ed Anseln1 for his
departure from the hard and severe rules by \vhich
such cases \vere con1monly disposed of; rules \vhich
\vere often made n1erely to create an occasion for a
dispensation or a privilege, granted not to simple
equity but to a heavy compensation.

C HAP T E R XII.

AXSEL
I A:'\D HEXRY I.

" \Ye would every deed
Perfonn at once as grandly as it shows
After long ages, when from land to land
The poet's swelling song hath rolled it on.
It sounds so lovely what our fathers did,
\Yhen in the silent evening shade reclined,
\Y c drink it in with music's melting tones.
And what we do, is, as it was to them,
T oibome and incomplete."
GOETHE'S Iþhigellia (ii. I), translated by
1\I1SS SWA
W1CK.

AXSEL:\I came back to England \vith good hope to
.do something for the great purpose for \yhich he no\v
lived-the purification and elevation of life, first in
the clergy; then in the monasteries, \vhich \vere the
pattern schools and models of religion and devotion;
and then in the lay society, ,,'ith ,yhich, monk as he
\vas, he had such strong syn1pathy, and \vhich he
looked upon as specially his charge and flock as being
the first spiritual officer of the English Church. The
ne\v king had solemnly promised to put an end to
the odious \vrong and the insolent tyranny of the last
reign. "The holy Church of God I make free, so
that I \vill neither sell it nor let it to farm; nor on the

24 8

A.l\/SELltf A]\/D HENR Y I.

[CHAP.

death of archbishop, or bishop, or abbot, \vill I take
anything fron1 the domain of the Church, or from its
men, till the successor con1es into possession ;"-this
had been the first article of the kingly promise given
at \lVestminster, \vhen the Bishop of London, in
Anselm's absence, håd consecrated and cro\vned him
king.
Henry's position, too, \vas still insecure. Robert \vas
back in N ornlandy \vith a ne\vly-married \vife, fresh
from the glory of the Crusade, and fully intending to
dispute the claims of the younger brother, \vhom both
he and \Villiam had been accustomed to despise and
to make use of, and \vhom he had joined \vith \Villiam
in excluding from the succession. The English feeling
'vas strong for IIenry: he ,vas not \vithout friends
among the Norman barons; but as a body the Nor-
n1ans \vere not to be trusted till they had learned to
kno\v the strength of their master. They had accepted
Henry in Robert's absence, many of them \vith a secret
preference for Robert, a king ,vho ,vould let them have
their o\vn \vay, and a secret dislike for Henry, a king
\vho perhaps n1ight not; and \vith a reserve ,vhich
fear only, or the sense of their o\vn interest, could at
last bring to an issue. Henry had made to them,
as \vell as to the Church, large promises. They
\vere not content \vith general engagen1ents against
bad customs and unjust exactions; a number of
the alleged usurpations by the cro\vn on the rights
of lando,vners, of arbitrary exactions and acts of
po\ver, of abuses in the administration of justice,
\vere specified and definitely condemned; and a
great charter, of \vhich copies \vere sent to the
shires of the kingdom and laid up in the treasuries

XII. ]

A1VSELJI AA 9 D HENR Y I.

2-1-9

of cathedrals and abbeys, attested the liberties
,vhich had been granted to his barons and all his
faithful people by IZing Henry, "by God's appoint-
ment elected by the clergy and people, by God's
mercy and the conlmon counsel and assent of the
barons of the realn1 of England, cro,vned king
thereo(" Henry had much on his side in the hopes
,vhich he inspired, in the acceptance of the nation,
in his o\vn consciousness of ability and strength.
But he could not afford yet to overlook anything
\vhich could make him more secure; and a good
understanding ,vith a man of Anselm's high place,
reputation, and popularity, ,vas very important to
him.
But there 'vere difficulties in the position of each of
thenl ,yhich \vere not long in sho\ving themselves.
Henry, \vhom the ,vorld hardly knew yet, ,vho had
since his father's death been buffeted by fortune, and
had gone through the experiences of a princely exile
",hile patiently biding his time till his father's dying
,yords of prophecy should be fulfilled; ,vho had alter-
nately made himself useful to both his brothers, and
had received scant recompense from theIn-combined
\vith an ouÌ\vard self-colnmand and easiness of manner,
strongly contrasting ,vith his father's hardness and his
brothers' boisterous and overbearing roughness, an
iron strength of ,vill, not less tenac:ous and formidable
than theirs, though disguised for a time under softer
manners and an apparently more pliant temper.
There ,vere Ì\"O points in ,,'hich it at once disclosed
itsel[ Amid all his concessions he peremptorily
refused any relaxation of the hateful and merciless
forest la,vs; to the n1ighty hunters of \Villiam's

25 0

A^?SEL,JI Al'lD HE.t.VRY I.

[ CHAP.

family the CrO\"l1 \vas not \vorth having, \vithout the
cruel privileges of the chase. There \vas yet another
matter on \vhich he \vas resolved to yield nothing.
The ecclesiastical" customs" ,vhich had been in force
in his father's time he ,vould maintain. Bishops and
abbots should not only be appointed by him, but they
should, like his barons, become cc his men; " they
should receive the investiture of their offices from him;
the pastoral staff \vhich ,vas the token of their spiritual
authority they should take from his hand. "I ,vill
have all the crosiers in England in my hand," ,vas a
saying ascribed to the Conqueror; and, in spite of the
canons then beginning to be passed fron1 time to tin1e
at Rome, Lanfranc had not contested the point, and
Anselm himself had, as a matter of course, com-
plied ,vith the custom ,,,hen he received the arch-
bishopric from 'Villiam Rufus. There \vere obvious
reasons ,,,hy Henry should maintain his claim. To
resign it ,vou Id have been to seem to sho,v himself
'\yeaker at the critical beginning of his reign than
11is father and brother. There "'as no strong feeling
against the custon1 among the English or N orn1an
clergy. It gave him a special and personal hold on
the service and obedience of the Church, entirely
analogous to that ,vhich ne had over the allegiance
of his barons and tenants. I t ,vas a good deal
n10re than the right of nomination and patronage.
That ,vas much; but it ,vas much more that bishops,
\vhen appointed, should not only ackno\vledge his
authority as faithful subjects, but should be bound to
him by the special ties, first, of having becon1e "his
men," and next of holding, not their temporal posses-
sions only but their office itself, by a significant form

XI!.]

AJ.VSELJI A.J.l\-D HE.l\"RY I.

25 1

,,'hich made it seem simply a derivation fronl his
authority. These customs had been accepted as a
matter of course, \vithout complaint, \vithout protest,
\vithout ren1ark, by the religious n1en of the Con-
queror's age. That they had not only given rise to
intolerable abuse and mischief in his brother's time,
but that they had deeply corrupted the spirit of
churchmen, and made them look upon their office as
a thing that might be bought and sold, and then used
\vith courtly subservience or cynical selfishness, \vas
hardly a consideration \vhich could be expected to
\yeigh \vith Henry, or to keep him from stiffly
asserting his claims. For a man of Henry's temper,
bent as strongly as his father or his brother on beating
do\vn or eluding every check on his \vill and his
power, the spectacle of the \ya y in \vhich, in the
late reign, the Church had been hun1bled, degraded,
and reduced to helplessness, \vould be distasteful only
from the frantic extravagance \yhich had defeated its
o\vn ends.
It \vas natural for the king to insist on these
cherished customs of homage and investiture. He
thought that they signified a great deal, and so they
did; but to Anselm also they signified a great deal.
He had made no difficulty, as \\.e have seen, in con-
forn1ing to them at his o\vn election; but much had
happened since then. He had bt
n the \vitness and
the victim of the system \\.hich placed the duty and
conscience of Christian bishops under the heel of
feudal royalty, and gave to insolent oppression the
right of appealing mockingly to their o\vn oaths of
fealty and acts of submission as the bonds of their
unconditional and uncomplaining submission. A reign

25 2

ANSELJ! AiVD HE..Y'RY I.

[CHAP.

like that of the Red King ,vas a lesson not to be soon
forgotten: the "customs" ,vhich had seemed so natural
and endurable under the father, had received a ne\v
Ineaning and a ne\v sting under the policy of the son.
Further, Anseln1 ,vas in a ne\v position compared
,vith that of Lanfranc, and ,vith his o\vn at his elec-
tion. \Villiam's violence had driven him abroad;
and there he had been compelled to become cognizant,
in a far more distinct \vay than before, of the legis-
lation by \vhich Church rulers and Church councils on
the Continent ,vere attempting to meet the rival
claims of the feudal lords. No one then doubted the
authority of that great office ,vhich they believed to
be held in succession from the Prince of the Apostles.
They might doubt bet\veen the clailns of this or that
pope or anti-pope; they Inight question the ,visdoln
of the pope's decisions, or disobey his orders, or defy
his excommunications, or bribe his advisers, or
in1prison his person; but the general belief in his
authority ,,,as no more impaired by such things than
resistance and disobedience affected the general per-
suasion of the authority of kings. The see of St.
Peter "Tas the ackno\vledged constitutional centre of
spiritual la,v in the \Vest to all that "diversity of
nations ,vho ,vere united in the confession of the
name of Christ;" it ,vas looked upon as the guide
and regulator of teaching, the tribunal and court from
,vhich issued the oracles of right and discipline, the
judgment-seat to ,vhich an appeal ,vas open to all,
and \vhich gave sentence on "'rong and vice ,vithout
fear or favour, \vithout respect of persons, even the
highest and the mightiest. The ideal \vas imperfectly
realized; it ,vas n1arred by the extravagance of asser-

XII.]

ANSELJI AND HEl\"RY I.

253

tion, the imperiousness of temper, the violence of
means \vith \vhich these claims "
ere urged; it ,,'as
spoiled by the inextricable mixture of by-ends \vith
grand and noble purposes, of unscrupulous cunning
and crafty policy ,yith intense and self-sacrificing con-
viction; it 'vas more fatally degraded and discre-
dited by the selfish and faithless temporizing, and the
shameless greediness, \vhich gre,v into proverbs \vher-
ever the name of Rome \vas mentioned. And every
succeeding century these things gre\v \vorse; the ideal
became more and n10re a shado\v, the reality became
n10re and n10re a corrupt and intolerable mockery.
But if ever there \\ras a tin1e ,vhen the popes honestly
endeavoured to carry out the idea of their office, it
,vas just at this period of the l\iiddle Ages. They
attempted to erect an independent throne of truth
and justice above the passions and the force \vhich
reigned in the ,vorld around. I t is the grandest and
most magnificent failure in human history. But it
had not then been proved to be a failure; and those
,vhose souls believed in truth and thirsted for purity,
righteousness, and peace, amid the ,vrong and con-
fusion of their time, turned to it \vith hope and
loyalty. Anselm probably had troubled himself little
,vith distant Rome and its doings ,vhile busy in the
cloister of Bec ,yith teaching and meditation. The
hopelessness of all justice at hom
drove him on "rhat
offered itself, and ,vas looked on by all, as the refuge
for the injured and helpless. And ,vhile there he had
of necessity become acquainted for himself ,vith the
stringency and earnestness ,vith ,,-hich the highest
Church authority had condemned the customs of
hOlnage and lay investiture. It ,vas doubtful ,vhether

254

.AÞlSEL11l A1VD HE1YR Y' I.

[CHAP.

he had not hin1self come under the penalties pro-
nounced against them. He had been present at
solemn councils \vhere the prohibitions against them
\vere reiterated in the plainest and most peremptory
manner. After \vhat he had seen and heard at
Rome, it \vould b
impossible for him hencefor\\-ard
to appear to sanction usages in \vhich he himself had
once seen no harm.
Henry appears to have brought on the question ill
an extreme and unusual form, at his first meeting
\vith Anselm at Salisbury. He den1anded from An-
seln1 a rene\val of homage, and req uired that he should
receive the archbishopric afresh by a ne\v act of in-
vestiture. "Lofty as the pretensions of the CrO\Vll had
been," says Sir F. Palgrave, " this den1and ,vas entirely
unprecedented, at least so far as \ve can coilect
from any existing historical evidence. It imported
that, on the death of the Sovereign, the archbishop's
commission expired-that his office \vas subordinate
and derivative, and the dignity therefore reverted to
the cro\vn." 1"'he principle of a fresh grant of lands
and privileges at the demise of the lord \vas not
unkno\vn in civil matters; but "\ve have no trace
that this principle \vas ever extended to the Church."
Henry appears to have meant by this denland, ,yhich
,vent beyond \vhat had been claimed by his prede-
cessors, to put the meaning of these forms beyond
question, and to settle a point raised and left uncertain
by the disputes; perhaps he intended it as an ans\ver
beforehand, and a for\vard step in meeting, ,vhat he
must probably have kno\vn, \vould no\v be the demands
of the Church for the abolition of H the customs."
" Cherishing the COJlSllctlldÙICS patC1'llæ," the hereditary

XII.]

A.l.YSELJI A.l\-n HE-^-RY I.

255

"usages," says Sir F. Palgrave, "and pledging himself
in his o,vn heart and nlind not to abate a jot of his
5upren1acy over the clergy, he ,vould exercise his.
authority in Church affairs son1e\yhat more decently
than his father, and a great deal n10re than his.
brother; but that ,vas alL"
Anselm, ,vhen the demand ,vas Inade, at once-
stated his position. He had no choice. He had
heard ,vith his o\vn ears the canons of the Church
and the solemn decisions and sanctions of a great
council. " If his lord the king," he said, "\vas ,villing
to accept these la,vs, they could ,vork together. If not,
there ,vas no use in his remaining in England; for he
could not hold communion ,vith those ,vho broke
these la,vs. He had not come back to England to live
there on condition of disobedience to his spiritual
head. And he begged a plain decision, that he might
take his course." Both parties behaved ,vith dignity
and temper, fitting the gravity of the question.
" The king ,vas much disturbed; for it 'vas a grave
matter to lose the investitures of churches and the
homages of prelates; it "'as a grave matter, too, to let
Anselm take his departure, ,yhile he himself ,vas not
yet fully confirmed in the kingdom. For on one side
it seemed to him to be losing, as it ,vere, half of his
kingdom; on the other, he feared lest Anselm should
make his brother Robert, \"ho ,,,ould most easily be
brought into subjection to the apostolic see, IZing of
England." It ,vas agreed that the matter should be
referred to the Pope, things remaining unchanged till
an ans\ver could come back from Rome. Anselm
kne\v enough of the ten1per of Rome to be sure that
the appeal \vhich Henry made for a direct exen1ption

25 6

ANSELJf AND HEJ\TRY I.

[CHAP.

fron1 the general la,v ,vas hopeless; but all along in
this matter of investiture his line \vas simple obedience
to authorities and rules \vhich, even in the ideas and
belief of his antagonists, had a rightful and para-
n10unt claim to it. There is no appearance that
personally he felt very strongly about the matter of
the dispute; it \"as \vith him purely a question of
obeying, ,vhat to him and to his age represented the
la\vof God against the ,,,ill and po\ver of man. But
Henry's proposal, if merely for the purpose of gaining
time, ,vas not an unreasonable one, and the Archbishop
\vished to avoid anything that might seem to endanger
the ne\v order, or to give ground to the suspicions or
the hopes of those \vho looked on the dispute as it
n1ight affect the interests of Ròbert. In the meal1\Yhile,
the king and the archbishop remained good friends;
Anselm's good sense and justice gave the king his
English bride; and at Martinmas (Oct. I I, 1100), he
gave his benediction to Edith-l\latilda as ,vife and
queen.
It \vas not the only servicê \vhich Henry o,ved
him. The critical first year of his reign ,vas
yet to be passed. Ralph Flambard, Bishop of
Durham, had escaped from the T o\ver, and ,,,as in
Normandy stirring up Rubert against the ne\v King
of England, as Odo Bishop of Bayeux had passed
from his prison to stir up Robert against \Villiam
the Red. Flambard's familiar acquaintance ,vith
England \vas dangerous; he kne\v ,vho \vas dou bt-
ful, and \vho could be corrupted, and ho,v to
corrupt them. lIe gained over the sailors \vho \\yere
to defend the Channel. Under his guidance, Robert
landed at Portsmouth. At the first ne,vs of the

XII.]

Al\'SELAf Al'lD H
'NR Y 1.

257

approaching invasion, Henry, suspecting his nobles
and suspected by theIn, had endeavoured to bind
them to hiI11 by a ne\v and distinct compact. " The
\vhole nobility of the realm, ,\"ith a multitude of the
people, \vhen they rnet to receive the engagement of
the king's faith, n1ade Anselm their arbiter bet\veen
themselves and the king, that to him, in their stead,
the king, holding his hand in Anselm's hand, should
promise to govern the ,vhole kingdom in all things, as
long as he lived, by just and holy la\vs." But \vhen
it \vas knO\\Tn that Robert ,vas actually in England,
the N orn1an chiefs at once, forgetful of their plighted
troth, prepared to desert the king. The English and
the common soldiers \vere true; but the king's camp
,vas full of the fears, mistrust, disloyal balancings of
the Norman lords. Anselm kno\ving most about their
suspicions and disaffectioG, \vas afraid to speak of all
he kne\v, for fear of driving them at once to Robert's
side. But he \vas the only man the king could trust.
He thre\v his influence on Henry's side. He brought
the Norman chiefs, one by one, to the king, that
seeing one another face to face they might be
reassured by mutual explanations and intercourse.
Henry made him fresh promises. Anselm made a
public appeal to the chiefs, in the presence of the
army, not to shame themselves by breaking their faith
and betraying their king. The danger ,vas ,veathered.
A battle \vas avoided at a critical time; Henry
submitted for the present to hard conditions, and
Robert, finding the Norman lords less forward than
he expected, and fearing Anselm's excommunication
against hinI, as an unjust invader, made peace.
Henry ,vas to have his revenge in a different
S.L. x. S

25 8

ANSELJI A1VD HA..VRY I.

[ CHAP.

fashion at Tinchebrai; but at that time, says Eadmer,
if Anselm's fidelity and exertions had not turned
the scale, King Henry \vould have lost his possession
of the realnl of England.
The ans\ver from Rome had been long in cOl1ling,
but it came at last. Henry had asked, so the Pope
put it, that, as a special favour in return for the
reversal of his brother's policy and his good-\vill to
the Church, he might be privileged by the Roman
Church to make bishops and abbots by the delivery
of the pastoral staff. It \vas not the exact account:
Henry never \vavered about his claim; and the indul-
gence he professed to ask for \\'as, not that he 111ight
keep the usages, but that Ansellll 11light comply ,,,ith
thenl. To this Pope Paschal had ans\vered as 11light
have been expected. He \vas \villing to grant many
favours and indulgences, but not this. I-[is long letter
contained the current arguments and usual texts and
quotations, common since the time of Gregory VII. ;
but through its false analogies and forced parallels, and
the extravagant and conventional exaggerations of its
rhetoric, a true and reasonable feeling is apparent of
the shame and mischief of allo\ving great Church
offices to be disposed of by the kings and princes of
the time, ,vithout an effùrt to assert their meaning
and sacredness, and to force the \vorld to ackno\vledge
their paramount spiritual and religious character. A
breach no\v seemed inevitable. Anselm \vas called to
the court, and required, as in the first instance, to
give \vay. His ans\ver \vas the same: he thre\v him-
self on the decrees of the Ronlan Council at \vhich
he had been present. "\Vhat is that to nle ?" said the
king: "I \vill not lose the customs of 111Y predeces-

XII.]

A.LYSELJI AND HENR Y I.

259

sors, nor suffer in my realm a man \"ho is not mine."
The bishops and nobles this time fully took part \vith
the king; as before, says Eadmer, there \vas going
to and fro bet\veen the king and the archbishop, al
striving to comply ,vith the king's \vill and earnestly
insisting that he should not be subject to the obe-
dience of the Ronlan Pontiff The dispute \vas
inflan1ed, Eadmer says, by the influence of Duke
Robert and his friends, \vho remembered ,vhat Anselm
had done against them; but Henry,vanted no urging,
and fully kne,v his o\vn mind. But it ,vas not yet
convenient to come to an open quarrel. England
,vas not yet fairly in hand. On the troublesome
\Velsh border, the ,vorst and most hateful of the bad
house of Talvas and l\Iabel of Belesme, the restless
and pitiless Robert, ,vho seemed bent on fulfilling his
grandfather's curse on \Villiam the Bastard by urging
on his children to destroy one another, had succeeded
his brother Hugh, the only one of l\Iabel's children
of \vhom any good is told, in the great earldom of
Shre,,,sbury and the guardianship of the \Yelsh march-
land. He ,vas lord, too, at the other end of England,
of Arundel on the Sussex shore. He had done
homage to Henry; he had deserted to Robert; and
the year folIo\ving the treaty (1102) he \\Tas in full
revolt, letting the \\T elsh loose upon the English
shires, and holding the castles \\Thich he had fortified
and prepared, in Sussex, in Yorkshire, and on the
Severn, as centres of rebellion. Henry met him vigo-
rously, and crushed him; and Robert of Belesme ,vas
driven from England, once again to try his strength
against his mightier foe, to fail, and at last to end his
days in one of Henry's prisons. But \"hile he had
S 2

260

ANSELJI Al\.D HENR Y I.

[CHAP.

Robert of Belesme on his hands, Henry probably
thought it best to temporize ,vith Anselm. At
any rate, he again made conciliatory advances to the
archbishop, and proposed a second embassy to Ron1e
of more distinguished persons: Gerard, no,v Arch-
bishop of York, one of \Villiam the Red's chaplains
and envoys to Rome, and t\VO bishops, together \vith
two of Anselm's n10st trusted friends, Bald\\Tin, his
late companion, and another. l\Ien of such \\'eight
and kno,vledge of affairs could explain, it \\'as said, to
the Pope the difficulties of the case and the critical
state of matters better than could be done by letter or
by agents of less dignity and consequence. Accord-
ingly they \\rent; in their public audiences they found
the Pope inflexible, and indignant that he should be
pressed to tear up the deliberate ordinances of the holy'
Fathers and of his predecessors for the threat of
one man. He ,vould not do so, he said, to save his
head. Letters ,vere \vritten in the same firm tone as
before to the king and to Anselm, and ,yith these the
envoys returned home.
A curious transaction follo,ved. On the return of
the envoys, an assen1bly of the great men "'as sum-
moned in London, and Anselm \vas again required by
n1essengers from the king to submit to the "usages."
But the Pope's letter to the king ,vas not lllade public.
Anselm sho\\'ed to everyone ,,,ho chose to see it the
letter which he had himself received, and asked that
the letter to the king should be made kno\\-n. But
Henry refused; he put aside the Pope's reply as
irrelevant, and, thro\\Ting himself on his O\\Tn rights,
required unconditional submission. l\Iean\\rhile, the
Pope's letter to the king got abroad. Then occurred a

XII.]

A1VSELJI A.1VD HEJ.YR Y I.

261

scene, \vhich is like nothing so 111uch as some of the
passages in Napoleon's negotiations through the
bishops of his party ,,-ith Pius VII. The l\rchbishop
of York and his brethren, the bishops of Chester and
Thetford, announced ,vhat they declared on the faith
of bishops to be the real result of their embassy. The
Pope, they said, in a private intervie\v, had charged
theln ,,,ith a verbal message to the king, that so long
as he acted as a good king and appointed religious
prelates, the Pope \vould not enforce the decrees
against investiture. And the reason, they said, ,vhy
he could not give this privilege in \vriting ,vas lest, if
it becan1e public, other princes might use it to the
prejudice of the Roman see. They also, equally on
their faith and honour as bishops, conveyed, in the
Pope's name, his commands to Anseln1 to give them
full credit, and follo\v their counsel. If he refused,
the king 111ight act as he pleased on the Pope's
authority, in spite of Anselm, and might, if Anselm
still insisted on the Pope's letter, banish him from the
kingdom. This strange story took everyone by sur-
prise, and called forth immediate remonstrance from
Anseln1's representatives. They had heard nothing
of the message, ,vhich ,vas utterly inconsistent \vith
everything \vhich had passed in public bet\veen them
and the Pope. \Vhen the bishops insisted that the
Pope's language ,vas one thing in pL:.blic, and another to
thelnselves in a private intervie\v, Bald\vin indignantly
charged them \vith breaking their canonical oaths and
Inaking the apostolic see infamous. But they held
to their story, and there \vas a strong division of
opinion and hot altercation in the excited assembly.
vVhen one side insisted on the authority of the actual

262

ANSELlIE Al'lD HEJ./R Y I.

[CHAP.

document, sealed ,vith the Pope's signet, the rejoinder
was fierce and insolent. The \vord of these bishops
ought to \veigh 1110re than parchments,-" sheepskins,
with a lump of lead at the bottom," backed by the testi-
mony of "paltry monks, \vho, \vhen they renounced the
world, lost all weight as evidence in secular business."
" But this is no secular business," said Bald\vin. " We
know you," \vas the reply, "to be a man of sense and
vigour; but difference of rank itself requires us to
set more by the testimony of an archbishop and t\VO
bishops than by yours." "But ,vhat of the testimony
of the letters?" he asked. He was ans\vered \vith a
sneer: "When \ve refuse to receive the testimony of
monks against bishops, ho\v could \ve receive that
of sheepskins?" cc Woe! \voe!" burst forth from the
shocked and excited monks, "are not the Gospels
written on sheepskins ?"
Of course in. such a dead lock, there \vas nothing
for it but to send another deputation to Rome; and in
the meanwhile a compromise \vas agreed to. The king
\vas to act as if the bishops had truly reported the
Pope's intentions; he \vas to be at liberty to invest fresh
prelates, and Anselm, till the real fact ,vas kno\vn,
was not to refuse communion ,vith them. Anselm, on
the other hand, until things were cleared up, ,vas not
to be required to consecrate them. He felt keenly, as
,vas natural, the embarrassment of his position. He
wrote to the Pope, stating what had happened, and
begging to kno\v for certain ,vhat the Pope meant
him to do. If the Pope thought proper to take off
generally in England the excommunication pro-
nounced against lay investiture, or to n1ake special
exceptions, let him only say so distinctly. Anselm

XII.]

A.
.rSELJf A1\'D HEl\TRY I.

63

felt all through that the matter \vas one of positive
la\r, and that he \\'as but an officer bound to carry
out, at all personal inconvenience, the ackno,,'ledged
la\v of the Church, and the commands of his la,vful
superior. He only entreated for clear instructions. {{ I
al11 not afraid," he \vrote, "of banishment, or poverty,
or torments, or death; for all these, God strengthening
me, my heart is ready in obedience to the apostolic
see, and for the liberty of my mother the Church;
all I ask is certainty, that I n1ay kno\v ,vithout doubt
,vhat course I ought to hold by your authority."
The king gained time. He did not \"ish to quarrel
if he could help it; and probably thought that he
had more chance at Rome than \vith Anselm. He
proceeded at once to invest t,,'o of his clerks \vith
bishoprics. He gave Salisbury to his chancellor
Roger, originally a poor priest of Caen, ,,'ho had
followed hinl in his adverse fortunes, and had first
pleased Henry by the speed \vith ,,'hich he got
through his mass; and \\.ho rose to be one of the
greatest and richest of the king's servants. He gave
Hereford to another Roger, the superintendent or
clerk of his larder. It is hardly \\Tonderful, \vith such
appointments, made as a matter of course, from men
broken in to the ,vays of feudal courts, and accustomed
to make themselves useful in them, ecclesiastics in
nothing but their qualifications as scribes, accountants,
and clever men of business, that bishoprics "'ere indif-
ferently filled; and that those \\,ho ,,-ished to see them
filled as they ought to be, thought nothing too n1uch
to do and to suffer, in order to break down the pre-
scriptive system, \vhich made these appoint1nents
seem natural and fit.

2 6 4

A]\/SELIJI AND HE1\lR Y I.

[ CHAP.

j-\nselm also gained \vhat he had from the first been
asking for. A council in those days ,vas the ordinary
and approved ren1edy for disorders in the Church and
society; as later a parlian1ent \vas for disorders in the
State and Church also. A great council \vas held, \vith
the king's consent: about l\1ichaelmas 1 102, at \tVest-
minster, of the bishops and abbots of the ,vhole real1n.
H In this council," it is said, in the record of it dra\vn
up by Anselm, ",vere present, by the request n1ade
by Anselm the archbishop to the king, the chief men
of the realnl, so that \vhatever ,vas decreed by the
authority of the said council might be kept safe by the
harmonious care and solicitude of each order. For so
it \vas necessary, seeing that for many years, the ob-
servance of synods having been internlitted, the thorns
of vice had gro\vn up, and the earnestness of Christian
religion had gro,vn too cold in England." 1'he subjects
of its decrees and orders ,vere n1any; but in general
it may be said to have had in vie,v t\VO things: to
dra\v tighter the strings of discipline among the clergy,
and to arrest the tendency ahvays at ,york among
them to forget their calling in the liberty and the
business of ordinary life; and, next, to strike hard at
some special forms of gross and monstrous depravity
\vith ,vhich society ,vas at this time infested, and
,vhich seem to have broken out and becomf' fashion-
able in the younger generation since the Conqueror's
death. Abbots ,vho bought their offices, and clergy
who ,vould not put a\vay their ,vives, \vere visited
equally ,vith the severity of the council. Among the
canons is one against the" wicked trade used hitherto
in England, by \vhich men are sold like brute animals."
But to enact \vas one thing, to enforce another.

XII.]

ANSELJI AND HENRY I.

26,

The Council of London, Eadmer says, soon lnade
Iuany transgressors of its rules anlong all sorts of
men. Ansehn had proposed to publish ,veekly its
excolllnlunication against the more heinous sins. But
he found it expedient to alter this. All that inlnle-
diately caIne of the council ,yas the proof that the
Church felt that it ought not to look on sin ,vith indif-
ference. But most of the bishops ,vere too deeply
tainted ,vith the ,yorldliness ,vhich their canons
denounced to give any hearty support to Anselnl in
his efforts to correct it. Yet these efforts \vere not
in vain. His earnest spirit, his high ideal, and his
single-minded zeal against ,vhat \vas ,vrong \\Tere
beginning to raise the tone of the religious society
round him, though but gradually and partially. .i\.
proof of this ,vas shortly after given in a quarter
,vhere it ,vas least to be expected. One of Henry's
first acts had been to nominate vVilliam Giffard
to the bishopric of \Vinchester. His name suggests
that he belonged to the fanlily of the Giffards, Earls of
Buckinghan1 and Counts of Longueville in Nornlandy,
a house descended from a sister of the famous Duchess
Gunnor, the ,vife of the first Duke Richard. He
had long belonged to the king's chapel: he had served
the Conqueror; he is called chancellor under the Red
King; he ,vas an ecclesiastic deep in the secular busi-
ness of the court, and much trustEJ by it. A change of
ideas must have been setting in ,vhen \Villianl Giffard,
Henry's first choice for a bishopric, positively declined
to receive investiture by the pastoral staff frorn the
king's hands. The appointnlent appears to have been
a popular one; it is said that the clergy and people
of \Vinchester pressed to have him; that he \vas

266

Aj\/SEL/II A1YD HEJ.VRY I.

[CHAP.

H elected" by them; and finally, by the king-'s consent
or connivance, he had publicly received the pastoral
staff and the charge of the bishopric from Anselm's
hands. The king no,v called on Anselm to consecrate
him, and ,vith hilT\. the t,vo ne\v bishops of Salisbury
and Hereford. The" king's larderer" had died shortly
after his nomination, having vainly made the strange
request that Anselm ,vollld give a comn1ission to the
bishops of London and Rochester to consecrate him
bishop on his death-bed; and in his place had been
named Reinhelm, another clerk of the royal chapel,
\vho ,vas chancellor to the queen. This demand ,vas
a departure from the terms, on ,vhich both parties had
agreed to "rait for the issue of a reference to H..on1e.
Anseln1 looked on it as an a ttem pt to steal a march
on hin1, and, says Eadmer, ,vas some\vhat moved by it
"from his tranquillity of mind." He ,vas ,yilling to
consecrate \Villian1 Giffard, but refused in the most
solen1n ,yay, ",,,ith the sanction of an oath," to con-
secrate the other t\vo. On this refusal the king
ordered Gerard, the Archbishop of York, to consecrate.
Gerard ,vas ready enough; he ,vas a courtier, an old
antagonist of Anselm's, and only too glad to n10r-
tify the pride of the rival see of Canterbury. But
the tide ,vas turning. 'The strong feeling for the
honour of Canterbury n1ay have had something to do
,vith it. To everyone's surprise, the ne,v bishop-elect
of Hereford brought back to the king the ring and
staff ,vith ,vhich he had received investiture, regretting
that he had ever taken then1, and feeling sure that to
receive consecration from Gerard's hands ,vould be to
receive a curse instead of a blessing. The king ,vas
very ,vroth, and drove hin1 from the court. The con-

XI I.]

ANSELL1I Af\/D HEl\'RY I.

26 7

secration of the other t\vo ,\'as appointed to take
place in London. All ,vas ready, the church ,vas full,
the bishops "Tere assenlbled to ask the solemn preli-
minary questions, ,,'hen \Yilliam Giffard's conscience
smote him, and interrupting the service, he declared
that he ,vould rather be spoiled of all his goods than
receive consecration in such a fashion. Gerard, trying
to mortify Anselm, had brought unexpected humi-
liation on himself. The service ,vas broken off, and
the bishops in confusion and anger retired to report
the matter to the king. "Then the shout of the "Thole
multitude ,\'ho had con1e together to see the issue
rung out; ,vith one voice their cry ,vas, that \Villiam
"Tas a friend of the right, that the bishops \vere 110
bishops, but pcrverters of justice." \Villianl Giffard
"'as summoned to the presence of the king, to hear
the complaints of the bishops and the threats of the
court. (( There he stood," says Eadmer, (( but he could
not be dra,vn aside from the right; so he ,vas despoiled
of all that he had and banished from the realm."
Anselm's expostulations ,vere of course useless.
In due time the Pope's ans\ver to the reference
,
arrived. As ,vas to be expected,-he indignantly dis-
avo\ved the verbal nlessage attributed to him by
Gerard of York and his companions: he reiterated the
prohibitions against lay investiture, and exconlmuni-
catcd the bishops as liars, and faise to their trust.
That they should have lied outright, ,vith the cer-
tainty of being found out, seems more incredible than
that they should have blundered. Pope Paschal ,vas
Ii no Gregory," as one of Anselm's correspondents said;
he ,vas very desirous to keep ,veIl \vith Henry in his
o\vn critical position; and in his first letter to Anselm

268

ANSELi1f AND HENR Y I.

[ CHAP.

after his O\V11 election he lays great stress on getting
the revenue \vhich the Roman Church derived from
England, and \vhich, he said, it sorely needed. It is
possible that he may have held out some vague hopes
or hinted SOlne ambiguous civilities, \vhich Gerard mis-
.
understood or made too n1uch o( But, on the other
hand, the bishops' story ,vas a very circumstantial one;
and nothing in Paschal's character ,varrants us in think-
ing that he was \villing to give \vay privately on a
point on \vhich he \vas so stiff publicly. And the
\vriters ,vho mention the story, Eadmer and \Villiam
of Malmsbury, take for granted, in accordance \vith
Paschal's account of the ll1atter, that the ,vhole thing
,vas a trick, not of the Pope to make things pleasant,
but of unscrupulous court bishops to gain time.
But no one yet kne\v \vhat the Pope's letter, \vhich
\vas directed to Anseln1, contained. The king \vauld
not hear of having it read to hin1, or its contents
reported to him; he probably kne\v \vhat it contained.
Anselm \vould not break the seal, lest, if the king
should ask to see it and found it unsealed, he should
talk of forgery and interpolations. Anselm feared
also lest its contents ll1ight at once force him to ex-
treme measures \vith some of the bishops; and it \vas
not opened till Anselm \vas out of England. But in
the tniddle of Lent ({ {03) Henry, on some pretence,
suddenly appeared at Canterbury. The reason soon
appeared. His patience, he let Ansel1n understand,
,vas exhausted, and he must have his o\vn, as his
predecessors had had, ,vithout evasion and \vithout
delay. "What had he to do ,vith the Pope about
\vhat \vas his o\vn ? Let all \vho loved hin1 kno,v for
certain that \vhoever denied him his father's usages

LIBRARY ST. MARY'S COLLEGE

XI!.]

AJ/SELi1f Af\/D HEJ\YRY I.

26 9

\vas his enemy." H I neither anl taking, nor \vish to
take frOin him anything that is his," \\'as the ans,ver ;
" but to save my life, unless the same see \vhich laid on
the prohibition takes it of(, I n1ay not consent to him
about the nlatters ,,'hich I heard \vith my o,vn ears
decreed in the Roman Synod." The king \vas kno,vn
to be exasperated and disposed for extreme nleasures ;
people began to talk of personal violence. Things
looked dangerous. (( I have seen," says Eadn1er, "the
very chief men, on \vhose advice the king relied, in
tears at the prospect of the mischief to come."
Prayers "'ere made that evil n1ight be averted. But,
in the midst of the excitement, Henry's tone at once
changed. (( \Vould the archbishop go himself to
RODle, and try ,,,hat he could do \vith the Pope, lest
the king by losing the rights of his predecessors
should be disgraced." Anselm ans\\.ered that if the
chief men of the realm thought it right for him to go,
\veak as he ,vas, he ,vas ready according as God
should give him strength; but that if he should reach
the successor of the apostles, he could do nothing
to the prej udice of the liberty of the Church or his
o\\'n honour; he could but bear \vitness to facts.
The reply ,vas that nothing more ,vas \vanted ; the
king's envoy \yould be there also, to state the case
for his master.
This ".as arranged at the Easter court at \Vin-
chester (I 103). Anselm returned to Canterbury, and
four days after set out on his journey to Rome. In
contrast \vith his first departure, Eadmer says that he
departed "in the king's peace, invested \vith all that
belonged to him." Correspondence ,vas kept up in
measured but not unfriendly tenl1S. Anselm landed

270

ANSELJI AJVD HE1YR Y I.

[CHAP.

at Witsand, and proceeded by Boulogne to Bec and
Chartres. He had friends every\vhere: the Countess
Ida, the mother of t\VO kings of Jerusalem, at Bou-
logne; the Countess Adela, the Conqueror's daughter,
at Chartres; and at Chartres he \vas also \velcomed by
the famous Bishop I vo, one of the n10st learned and
moderate canonists of the time, Anselm's fello\v-pupil
under Lanfranc at Bec, who \vas not at first, though
he became so after\vards, of Anselm's mind on the
great question of the day. The season \vas an unusually
hot one; everyone said it \vas madness to attempt a
sumn1er journey to Italy; and Anselm \vas persuaded
to delay. He spent the time at his old home at Bec.
Such delay probably suited the king. Partly because
he had rather that Anseln1, no\v that he \vas out of
England, should not tell his o\vn story at Ron1e,
partly perhaps from a real feeling of kindness \yhich
seems to have been between the t\VO men in spite of
their differences, he became anxious for "his arch-
bishop's" health, and \vrote, urging him to spare hin1-
self the fatigue of the journey, and do his business by
envoys. But Anselm had already set out at the end
of August, and his ans\ver is dated from the valley
of l\Iaurienne, at the foot of Mont Cenis. At Rome
he found his old acquaÍJ.1tance, the searcher of his
baggage at Dover, his opponent at Rome in the days
of Pope Urban, \\Tilliam \Varehvast, \vho had pro-
bably made more journeys to Rome in the king's
service than any other of the clerks of the chapel. In
due time the subject \vas brought before the Pope
and the Roman court. \Villiam \Varehvast \vas an
able and bold advocate of the king's rights. He
asked that the Pope would sanction and legalize for

XII.]

A1YSELJf A1YD HE
YR Y I.

271

:King Henry the old customs of William the Con-
queror. He urged the humiliation of depriving him
of "Tell-established usages; and he dilated on the
munificence of the English kings, and on \vhat the
Romans \vould lose by offending them. His \vords,
and it Illay be something more, brought over a good
many of his Roman hearers. "The ,vishes," it \vas
said, " of so great a man as the King of England ,vere
on no account to be overlooked." Anselm ,vas silent.
" He ,vould not," says Eadmer, "give his advice that
mortal man should be made the door of the Church;"
but all along his part ,vas not to press his o,vn vie\v,
but to take the la\v froIn the supreme judge. Paschal
also had only listened. \Varehvast thought he had
made an impression, and might venture to clench it.
" Kno,v all men present," he added ,,-ith vehemence,
" that not to save his kingdonl ,vill King Henry lose
the investitures of the churches." "Nor, before God,
to save his head, \vill Pope Paschal let him have
thenl," "9as the immediate retort. \Villiam \vas taken
aback, and the feeling of the assembly veered round.
The advice ,vas given by the Pope's counsellors that
Henry should be indulged in some matters of custom,
\vhich might put him in good hunlour, and not give
cause to other princes to take offence: that he
hilnself should be personally exempted from excom-
munication; but that the prohibition of investiture
must be maintained, and all those \vho had infringed
it regarded as excommunicate. A letter, such as
comnlonly came from the milder popes at this time,
of con1plinlent, remonstrance, and devotional appeal,
firm, but leaving the door open for further negotia-
tion, \vas sent to the king. \Vith arguments from

27 2

AiYSEL JI" Al\TD HENR Y I.

[ CH_-\P.

Scripture texts, like" I am the door," assurances that
the customs claimed ,-yere really of no value, and ,,-ith
large pron1ises of consideration for the king's ,,-ishes,
\yere n1Ïngled congratulations on the birth of his son,
",,'hon1," adds the Pope, ",,-e hear that you have
named by the name of your famous father, \Villiam."
To Anselm the Pope gave his blessing, and the con-
firmation of the Primacy of Canterbury. There ,,-as
nothing more to do at Ronle, and Anselm prepared
to return to England.
He \yas escorted through the Apennines by the
great Countess i\Iatilda. On the road they ,,"ere
joined by \Villiam \Varehvast, ,,"ho had remained
behind at Ron1e in the hope of doing son1ething
more in Anselm's absence; but he found the attempt
useless. He travelled in Anselm's company over the
Alps; but he \\'as in a hurry to get home, and turned
off before they reached Lyons, \vhere Anselm ,,-as to
spend Christmas. Before he ""ent he delivered to
Anselm a message from the king: it ,,-as his last
,,-ord; but it \vas accon1panied \vith assurances of the
king's love and good-,,'ill to the archbishop. "I had
hoped," he said, H that our business at Rome ,,"ould
have had another issue, and I therefore deferred till
no". to comn1unicate ,vhat my lord bid me say to you.
But no,y I must tell you. He says that if you return,
to be to him \"hat your predecessors have been to
his, he desires and \vill gladly \,-elcome your com-
ing." "Have you nothing more to say?" Anselm
asked. "I speak to a man of understanding," ""as
the only answer. H I understand," said Anselm.
There \\.as no difficulty in understanding, though he
""rote to Henry to ask if \ \T areh,-ast had rightly

XII.]

ANSEL.JI AJVD HE1VR Y I.

273

delivered his message. \Varehvast ,vent for\vard on
his journey, and Anselm a second time took up his
abode at Lyons \yith his friend Archbishop Hugh.
The matter \\'as left exactly as Henry \vished it.
The Pope had no intention of quarrelling \vith the
king. He saved matters \vith Henry by exempting
him personalIy from the Church la\vs, and \\'ith his
o\vn conscience by enforcing it against everybody else.
Paschal had serious difficulties on his hands at home;
and this seemed to be the most hopeful ,yay of
arranging the English question. He compromised
and surrendered nothing; but he kept up negotiations
and interchange of friendly messages \vith Henry.
Henry also had not given \vay; and he personally ,vas
saved harmless. Anselm's hands ,,"ere for the present
tied, and he could not speak or influence others by his
presence in England. But not even \vith him \vas
Henry inclined to deal as the Red I(ing had done.
On \Varehvast's return, the revenues of the archbishop-
ric ,,"ere seized for the king's use. But he appointed,
as receivers, Ì\vo of the archbishop's o\\'n "men," \vith
the" kindly forethought," says Eadmer, "that as they
were bound by fealty and oaths to Anselm, they \vould
exercise their office less vexatiously to the tenants"-
an intention \vhich Eadmer intimates was imperfectly
fulfilled. The correspondence between the king and the
archbishop did not cease, and it ,vas kept up in ".ords
of good-,vill and grave courtesy. " You tell me," ,,-rites
the king, "that you cannot come to me nor be with file,
as Lanfranc your predecessor ,vas \vith my father. I am
very sorry that you ,,"ill not do so. If you \vould, I,vould
gladly receive you; and all the instances of honour,
dignity, and friendship \vhich my father showed to him
S.L. x. T

274

ANSELiJI AND HEiVRY I.

[CHAP.

I \vould sho\v to you. But our lord the Pope has
sent to me his requests and admonitions on certain
points. "VVherefore I \vish to send ambassadors to
Rom
, and by the counsel of God and my barons
ans\ver our lord the Pope about them, and ask for
that "\\rhich I ought 0 ask for. When I have received
his ans\ver, I \vill ,vrite to you as God may put it
into my nlind. 1Vlean\vhile I anl \villing that you
should have \vhat is convenient from the profits of the
Church of Canterbury; though I do this un\villingly; for
there is no man living \vhom I \vould rather have in my
kingdom \vith me than you, if there \vas nothing \vith
you against it." The queen, \vho ,vas ever full of love
and reverence for Anselm, and \vith ,vhom he kept up
a constant correspondence, assured him that her hus-
band's mind to\vards hinl was much more softened than
many people thought, and that her influence should
not be \vanting to produce agreement and harmony
bet\veen them. But there ,vas no sign of relenting, or
of any intention to alter or give up the usages. Hard
things \vere said of Anselm. The king declared that he
alone th\varted him,-implying that the Pope \vould
have been n10re favourable, but for Anselm. Anselm's
ans\ver, that he could not do, under altered CirCU111-
stances, \vhat Lanfranc h
ld done, gave a natural and
obvious handle for invidious reflections; his steady
friend Queen l\latilda ,vrites regretfully that his intem-
perate \'lords had disturbed the evenmindedness of
the king and the nobles. "I have said nothing," he
\vrites in reply, "against the king's father and
Archbishop Lanfranc, men of great and religious
name, \vhen I said that neither in my baptis111
nor in nlY ordination had I pledged myselí to

XII.]

ANSELJ! A.l.VD HE1VR Y I.

275

their la \vs and custorns, and \vhen I declared
that I \vould not deny the la\v of God. As to \"hat
is no\v dernanded of me, on the ground that they did
it, I, on account of \vhat \vith my o,vn ears I heard at
Rome, cannot do it \vithout the heaviest offence. But
that ill-natured meaning ,vhich has been put on my
\vords, according to ,vhich I have spoken foolishly, I do
not suppose to be so taken either by the king or by you;
for the king, as I understand, received my letter in the
first instance kindly; but afterwards some one or other,
I kno\v not ,,,ho, spitefully gave it an ill meaning and
stirred him up against me."
The precedent of Lanfranc 'vas a point on \\rhich
Anselm felt himself specially open to n1isinterpre-
tation. "Some mischievous busybody or other,"-he
\vrites to his" old and ever ne\v friend, Gund ulf, bishop
of Rochester," the only one of the bishops ,,-ho had
stuck by him throughout,-" has interpreted my
letter to the king out of the evil of his o\vn heart;
as if I boasted that I ahvays have kept God's la,v and
slandered the king's father and Archbishop Lanfranc, as
if they had lived out of God's la\v. But they ,vho
say this have too small or too evil a mind. In their
time, the king's father and Archbishop Lanfranc,
great and religious men as they 1,.vere, did some
things \vhich I at this tiIne cannot do according to
God's \vill, or \"ithout the condemnation of my o\vn
sou1."
Anselm's position \vas a hard one. Þ.l..bout the
" usages" themselves, he never had the strong feelings
of Gregory VI!., \vhich ,vere kept up at Rome. In-
tellectually and morally, his "ras not a rnind to lay
great stress on matters of this kind; in temper he ,vas
T2

27 6

ANSELAf AND HENRY I.

[CHAP.

too considerate and ready to allow for others, in his
\vays of thinking he ,vas too intent on ,vider and
loftier vie\\rs, to see such a question as this \vith the
keen and accurate instinct of a statesman. His o\vn
conduct sho\vs that there ,vas nothing in homage or
investiture, taken by themselves, to shock hin1; at
first he looked on them as a matter of course. Since
then, he had learned that a Ineaning could be put on
them; he had felt \vhat an engine they could be made
for hindering a bishop in his duty, and for making hin1
think un,vorthily of his office. But this of itself \vas
not the reason ,vhy he so unflinchingly set himself
against the "customs" ,vhich Henry truly said \vere
those of Lanfranc and the Conqueror. There is very
little of the current argument against them in his o\vn
\vritings. His attitude throughout ,vas that of simple
obedience to the la,v and to its la\vful expounder, and
his o\vn spiritual superior. though he himself had come
to see only too good reason for the la\v. He had heard
the la\v promulgated. He had heard its authorized
interpreter enforce the universal application of it.
vVhen there could be no longer any doubt about this,
there ,vas nothing left for him but to obey. And to
obey ,vas all that he pretended to do. It ,vas the
Pope's business to speak in the n1atter; that ,vas not
disputed even in England: ,vhat the king ,vanted, ,vas
for the Pope to do, as Popes \vere too much accustomed
to do, to grant some personal privilege or exemption
from the generalla\v. And Henry \vanted Anselm to
believe that, sooner or later, he should persuade the
Pope into giving it, and to go on in the mean\vhile as if
it had been given. This was ,vhat Anselm ,vould not
do, and for \vhich he ,vas in exile. But let the Pope

XII.]

Aj\
SELM AND HEl\/RY I.

277

speak, let him decide in \vhat ,vay he ,vould, let him
modify the la\v entrusted to his administration, let
him make \vhat terrns seemed to hinl expedient, and
Anselrn ,vould be only too glad to go back to the
nlore congenial \vork of trying to raise up religion
and morality in England. \Vhat his opinion really
\vas as to \vhat \vas expedient or right for the Pope to
arrange, hardly appears; he ,vould, no doubt, have
been glad, \vhen the question about investiture \vas
once opened, to get rid of a mischievous and unbe-
conling practice; he thought that it \vas not a
matter for trifling; and he thought that on both
sides there \vas too much of an intention to gain time,
and to leave things in suspense; but to the decision,
\vhen it canle, and \\Thatever it \vas, he \vas ready to
bo\v. But the decision ,vas just the thing \vhich it
seemed hopeless to look for. Embassies carne and
,vent; each enlbassy just avoided bringing things to
extrernities, and invited another. "The decision of
the ,vhole matter," as Anselm ,vrote to the Pope,
H lies \vith you." Let Paschal dispense ,vith the la,v ;
let him take off the excomrnunication, and Anselm \vas
ready to cornmunicate \vith those \vhom the Pope
dispensed \vith, to do hornage, to allo\v investiture,
if the Pope thought he could make exceptions to the
canons. " You tell me," he says in one of his
letters to England, with un\vontcd sharpness, "that
they say that it is I \vho forbid the king to grant
investitures. Tell them that they lie. It is not I \vho
forbid the king; but having heard the Vicar of the
Apostles in a great council excommunicate all \vho
gave or received investiture, I have no mind to hold
comrnunion \vith excommunicates, or to become

27 8

Aj\/SELJI A.ATD HE1VRY I.

[ CHAP.

excommunicate myself." And his language on this
point never varied.
But, as ,vas not unnatural, the blame of everything
\vas thro\vn on him. N ot unnaturally - for he
was the one man ,vho sa\v his duty and his line
..
perfectly clear, and ,vhom nothing could n10ve from
then1. He ,vas ready to do \,"hatever the Pope bade
him-to resist, to comply, to compromise; only his
chief 111ust give his orders. And people felt that it
"Tas his unflinching constancy and single-n1inded
purpose ,,"hich prevented the authorities at H..on1e,
for very shame, from conniving, in the case of
distant and rich England, at a breach of their o,vn
recent and solen111 la,vs. \Villiall1 \Vareh'Tast \\Tould
have had rl1uch n10re chance of arranging n1atters at
RÜine, if he had not had to encounter there, not
Anseln1's ,vords, but his silence and his readiness
to accept the" usages," if only the Pope ,vould take
the responsibility of conunanding him to accept
theln. And so everybody, friends and foes, turned
on him. The queen \vrote, beseeching hin1 somcho,v
or other to find a ,yay out of the difficulty. The
monks of Canterbury charged on hin1 the yexations
,vhich they suffered in his absence; ,vhatever hap-
pened an1iss in the church ,vas laid at his door.
I-Ie ,vas depriving the king of his rights. I-Ie ,vas
letting the king's "Ticked clerks invade the Church.
He \vas obstinate and ilnpracticable. He ,vas taking
his ease and evading the duty and danger of his
post. He ,vas led a\vay by "his iron ,,,ill;" he \vas
a co\vard, and "had fled from his flock and left them
to be torn to pieces, at the \vord of one \Villiam."
H I-Ie \vas busying himself about other men's matters,

XII.]

A1VSELJI A1VD HE.l.YR Y I.

279

and neglecting his o\vn \vork." His letters at this
tirne, differing in their nervous and direct conciseness
:ronl the sennon-like fashion of letter-\vriting-\vhich
is his ordinary style, as it \vas the style of his age-
sho\v that he felt keenly, and had to command himself,
in noticing and ans\vering the peevish and ill-natured
cornplaints, the gossip, the suspicions, the 111isinter-
pretations, the inlpatient and unreasonable entreaties,
\vhich came to hinl frorn England.
Anselm \vaited a year and a half at Lyons, \vhile
the king ,,-as negotiating at Rome. In l\Iarch 1105
he received a letter fron1 Paschal, saying that he
had excommunicated the counsellors \vho instigated
the king to insist on investiture, and especially
Robert Count of l\Iellent, the shre\vdest and most
ambitious of thenl; but that he \vas \vaiting for
another enlbassy from England before he settled
anything about the king. H Then Anselnl understood
that it \vas useless for hin1 to \vait at I..yons for
help from Rome; for all that he had got in ans\ver
to letters and messages \vas some sort of consolatory
promises, bidding hin1 expect son1ething, from one
fixed time to another." He had also \\Titten more
than once to Henry asking for restitution of the
property of the see, \vhich \vithout any fornl of judg-
n1cnt had been seized for the king's use; and had
received no ans\vers but polite excuses for delay. He
at length resolved to do something himself to bring
matters to an issue.
He left Lyons and came north\vards. On his road
he heard that the Countess Adela of Blois and
Chartres, Henry's sister, \\'ho had of old treated him
,vith great kindness and had taken hinl for her spiri-

280

Al'lSELlIf AND HENRY I.

[ CHAP.

tual guide, ,vas dangerously ill at Blois. A visit
under such circumstances ,vas looked upon in those
days as an indispensable duty of friendship and
religion; Anselnl turned out of his road and ,vent
to Blois. She recovered; and then Anselrn "did not
..
conceal from her, that for the injury ,vhich for hvo
years I I enry had done to God and to himself, he
,vas come to eXC0I11nlUnicate him."
The countess ,vas alarnled and distressed; and
set herself in earnest to avert the blo\v. Excom-
nlunications ,vere the usual, and according to the
ideas of the time the la,vful, "'eapons, in contests
of this kind about the "rrongful seizure of property;
and they ,,,ere not uncornmon, even against kings and
princes. But an excommunication from a n1an of
Anselnl's character, ,vho had suffered so much and
so long, ,vas felt to be a nlore serious thing than
ordinary. It ,vas particularly inconvenient to Henry
just at this time, ,vhen he ,vas preparing for his
decisive struggle ,vith his brother Robert for the
possession of Normandy. The report spread, and
I-Ienry ,vas alarmed. "In many places in England,
Iirance, and Normandy, it 'vas noised abroad that
the king himself \vas on the point of being excom-
municated by Anselm; and thereupon many mischiefs
began to be hatched against a Po\ver not over
luuch loved, \vhich it "'as thought might be more
effectually carried out against one excolumunicated
by a man like Anselm." But Henry \vas too prudent
to allo\v things to come to extremities. The Countess
Adela carried Anselm ,vith her to Chartres, and
through her mediation an intervie\v was arranged
between the king and the archbishop. He and

XII. ]

Al\YSELltf A1VD HE.f\/R Y I.

281

the Countess met Henry (J uly 22, 1105) at the Castle
of L' Aigle on the Rille. "They found the king
overjoyed at Anselm's coming, and not a little softened
from his old harshness." The reconciliation seemed
hearty and frank. Anselm \vas put in possession
of the revenues of his see, and restored to the king's
friendship. Henry ""as as gracious as he could be;
,,"henever anything had to be discussed, he ,,'ould
ahvays go himself to visit Anselm, instead of sending
for hinl. Efforts \vere made that Anselm should at
once return to England. But I-Ienry insisted on the
old conditions-recognition of the right of investiture.
And on this point a reference to Rorne \vas necessary.
Things \vere only half settled; and Henry made
the most of the opportunity in a characteristic \yay.
He \vas at this time in pressing need of money for
his \'"ar in Norrnandy; and the Church of course
did not escape" in the rnanifold contributions, \vhich
never ceased," says the English chronicler, "before
the king \vent over to Normandy, and \vhile he
,vas there, and after he came back again." Henry
had some skill in inventing, on such en1ergencies,
ne\v forisfacta-matters for fines and forfeiture-
questions for the Curia Regis to settle bet\veen
hin1 and his lieges. On this occasion he ,vas
seized \vith a zeal for Church discipline. I\Iany
of the parochial clergy \vere livl'1g in disobedience
to the canons of the late synod of \Vestminster,
\vhich had forbidden clerical marriage; "this sin the
king could not endure to see unpunished." So to
bring the offenders to their duty, he, of his o""n mere
tTIotion, proceeded to mulct them heavily. The tax,
ho,vever, proved, unfortunately, not so productive

282

A..A r SELJ.11 AJ.VD HEl\YR Y I.

[ CHAP.

as he had anticipated; and therefore, changing his
mind, he imposed the assessment on the \"hole body
of the parochial clergy, innocent as "'ell as guilty,
throughout the kingdom. Anselm expostulated;
the offending clerg
ought to be punished, he said,
not by the officers of the Exchequer, but by their
bishops. Henry, in his reply, is much surprised at
the archbishop's objections; he thought that he "'as
only doing his \vork for him, labouring in his cause;
but he \vould see to it: "ho\vever," he said, "\vhatever
else had happened, the archbishop's people had been
left in peace." But as to the mass of the clergy,
seizures, imprisonment, and every kind of annoy-
ance, had enforced the tax-gatherer's den1ands.
T\vo hundred priests \\'ent barefoot in procession,
in alb and stole, to the king's palace, h ,vith one
voice imploring hin1 to have mercy upon them;"
but they ,vere driven fronl his presence; "the king,
perhaps, ,vas busy." They then, "clothed \vith con-
fusion upon confusion," besought the intercession
and good offices of the queen: she \vas moved to
tears at their story; but she \vas afraid to interfere
in their behalf. \Vhat is a still greater proof of
Henry's tyranny is that the court party among
the clergy, among them the excomnlunicated bishops,
began to turn their eyes to\vards Anseltn. Gerard
of York found himself in trouble, and "Tote \vith
apologies and prayers for help to the man \vhon1
he had done his best to ruin. A letter ,vas further
sent, signed by several of the bishops, entreating
Anselnl to return, as the only nleans of remedying
the misery of the English Church. "\Ve have
\vaited for peace, but it has departed far fro 111 us.

XII.]

ANSELlII A1Ç-D HEl\TRY I.

83

LaYlnen had broken in, even unto the altar. Thy
children," they continue, "\vill fight \"ith thee the
battle of the Lord; and if thou shalt be gathered
to thy fathers before us, \ve \vill receive of thy hand
the heritage of thy labours. Delay then, no longer;
thou hast no\v no excuse before God. \Ve are ready,
not only to follo\v thee, but to go before thee, if
thou command us; for 110'lU ,ve are seeking in this
cause, not \vhat is ours, but \vhat is the Lord's."
.i\mong the names attached to this letter are those
of Anseln1's old opponents, Gerard of York, Herbert
of N onvich, and Robert of Chester.
At length, after more delays, nlore embassies, more
intrigues, and bargainings at Rome, the end of this
dreary contest came for Anselm; and except that
haggling is part of a bargain, it is not easy to see
,vhy it might not have COllle before. In April 1106,
fresh instructions came from the Pope. It released, or
gave Anseln1 authority to release, all \vho had come
under excommunication for breaking the canons
about homage and investiture; thus enabling Anselm
to return to England and take part \vith the offending
bishops; but it laid do\vn no rule for the future.
Henry ,vas no\v very anxious to get Ansehu to
England; but he ,vas detained at J umiéges and Bec
by repeated attacks of alarming illness. The king's
letters and messages expressed the \varmest interest
in him. " All that the king had in Nonnandy \vas at
his disposal." Henry at length crossed over to Nor-
mandy; he had a great enterprise on hand; and he
found time to visit Anselm at Bec. Various matters
\vere arranged to put a stop to the arbitrary exactions
which had grO\Vll up under the Red King; and at

Â84

ANSELAI Al'lD HENRY I.

[CHAP.

length Anselm returned once 11Iore to England, \"here
he \vas received \vith joyful \velcome. "l\ly lord the
king," Anselm ,vrites in one of his letters, " has com-
l11ended to me his kingdon1 and all that belongs to
hiln, that my \vill might be done in all that is his:
in \vhich he has sho
Tn the kindness of his good-\vill
to\vards me, and his affection for rne." The queen
11Ict him, and prepared his lodgings at the places
\vhere he halted; and, as ahvays, ,vas foren1ost in her
affection and honour for hin1. Shortly, he received
fronl the king the account of his final victory over
his brother Robert, in the decisive battle fought,
"on a day named and fixed," at Tinchebrai (Sept.
28, I 106). Henry's enemies \vere no\v crushed and
in his po\ver; not only his brother, but the 1110re
formidable Norman lords, \Villiam of Mortagne and
the implacable Robert of Belesme. Ralph Flambard
recognized the winning side and n1ade his peace ,vith
IIenry. Henry had regained the realm over \vhich his
father had ruled; and the Norman and English lords
soon felt that they had found their master.
But the final arrangement of the dispute \vith the
Church had yet to come. I t ,vas not long delayed.
It nIight have been expected that the conqueror of
Normandy,vould have bet.n tempted, if not to extreme
terms, at least to his old game of delay and intrigue.
But Anselm seems to have \von his respect; and Henry
\vas ready for concessions and a fair treaty. "On the
1st of August" (1107), says Eadn1er-it \vould have
been at \Vhitsuntide but for Anselm's illness-" an
assembly of bishops, abbots, and chief ll1en of the realnl
\vas held in London, in the king's palace; and for
three days continuously the nlatter of the investitures

XII.]

ANSELJf AJ.VD HE1VRY I.

28 5

of churches \vas fully discussed bet\veen the king and
the bishops, Anselm being absent; some of them
urging that the king should perform them after the
custom of his father and brother, and not according to
the command of the Pope. For the Pope, standing
firm in the decision \vhich had been promulgated
thereupon, had allo\ved the homage \vhich Pope
Urban had forbidden equally with investitures; and
by this had made the king inclinable to him on the
point of investitures. Then, in the presence of Anselm.
the multitude standing by, the king granted and
decreed that from that time forth for ever no one
should be invested in England \vith bishopric or abbey
by staff and ring, either by the king or by any lay
hand; Anselm also allo\ving that no one elected to a
prelacy should be refused consecration on account of
homage done to the king. This, then, having been
settled, fathers \vere appointed by the king, by the
counsel of Anselm and the chief men of the realm,
\vithout any investiture of the pastoral staff and
ring, in nearly all the churches in England \vhich
had long been \vido\ved of their pastors." On the
11th of the same month, at Canterbury, they \vere
consecrated. Among them \vere William Giffard and
Reinhelm, 'whose unexpected scruples and resolute
foregoing of high place first opened Henry's eyes to
the reaction \vhich \vas beginning" even among the
clerks of the chapel; an10ng them, too, \vas \Villiam
vVarehvast, appointed to Exeter, ,vho, after all his
hard ,vork at Rome, had ended by becoming Anselm's
friend. Among the consecrating bishops \vas not
only Gerard of York, but the Bishop of Durham,
Ral ph Flambard.

CI-IAPTER XIII.

ANSELM'S LAST DAYS.

" Still glides the Stream, and shall not cease to glIde-;
The Form remains, the Function never dies;
\Yhile we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,
\Ve men, who in our morn of youth defied
The elements, must vanish ;-be it so !
Enough, if something from our hands have power
To live, and act, and serve the future hour;
And if, as towards the silent tomb we go,
Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower,
\Ve feel that we 2.re greater than we know."-\VORDSWORTH.

ANSEL!\I had 'von a great victory. \Vhat \yas gained
by it ?
Of the victory itself there can be no doubt. The
po\ver which contested it ,vas too mighty and ener-
getic ; the opposition too formidable and resolute; the
object fought for too much prized by those \"ho had
to yield it, and too obstinately defended; the prescrip-
tion assailed ,,,as of too long date, too continuous, and
too natural, for it to be a light matter that the issue
of the dispute broke through the cherished usages
of the Norman kings. That the arrangement \vas
a peaceful compromise, and that the king kept half
\vhat he contended for, in his vie,v perhaps the most
important half, did not make it less a victory, that
any part of \vhat "Tas so valued should be torn

CH. XII!.]

A...YSELJ/'S LAST DA YS.

28 7

from such a grasp by the single-minded constancy
of an old man at a distance, \vhose main \veapon
'vas his conviction of the justice of his cause,
and his unflinching and undeviating steadiness.
To have made so nlarked a change publicly and
deliberately in the relations of bishops to rgreat
kings, \vhose rule \vas not so much by la\v as by the
loose claims and measures of feudal usages, and to
have induced one of the sons of the Conqueror,
and, among then1, to have induced Henry, the
shre\vdest, ablest, hardest of them all, to forego part
of the customs \vhich he valued at the \vorth of
half his kingdom, \vas an achievement of \vhich,
\vhatever came of it, no one could mistake the nlag-
nitude. It \vas accomplished, too, \vith a remarkable
absence of those violent measures \vhich \vere the
common \veapons on all sides in those days, and \vhich
'vere so freely used in other scenes of this same
contest on the continent of Europe. That \vhich
determined it as much as anything \vas ....L\.nselm's
personal character; the boundless reverence and, still
more, the intense love and sympathy called out on
all sides, by the union in it of the deepest human
tenderness \vith grave and calm self-command, \vith
unpretending courage, and \vith that unconscious and
child-like meekness, so remarkable in him, \yith \vhich
he bore those great and singular gifts of intellect, in
\vhich by this titne he "'as kno"yn to be \vithout a
living equal in Christendom. Henry, \vi th all his deep
and heavy faults, had eyes for this. He kne\v that in
Anselm he had at Canterbury the greatest Christian
bishop, the greatest religious example of his age. He
felt to\vards the archbishop, as the great persons about

288

.ANSEL1J,!'S LAST DA YS.

[CHAP.

him and his subjects felt-\vith more admiration, per-
haps, of the head, \vith not so much sympathy probably
of the heart, as there ,vas, at least, among the people;
much disliking, much resenting, much fearing many of
Ansehn's \vays and purposes, but unable to resist the
spell and charn1 of l1is nobleness, his force of soul, his
unselfish truthfulness. Only Henry, probably, sa\v it
more clearly than the clerks of his chapel, or cunning
n1en of the ,vorld like Count Robert of lVIellent. He
sa\v that it ,vas, even politically, a mistake to persist
even for the sake of "the usages" in forcing a n1an
like Anselm, ,vhom he might gain for a friend, to range
himself against him. Slo,vly and reluctantly, but not
insincerely at last, he made up his mind to come to
terms; and ,vhen he had done so, then ,vith the frank-
ness of a really po,verful mind, he let his adn1iration for
his antagonist have its way. No honour, no confidence
was too much for Anselm. Further, ,vhen the question
,vas to be settled, Henry settled it openly and fairly;
in the ,yay ,vhich ,vas the la,vful ,yay of ,vitnessing
and establishing important constitutional matters; in
a great council of the realm, ,vhere it ,vas debated,
decided, and then proclaimed before the people,
gathered to hear the proceedings of their chiefs, and
to sanction these proceed:ngs by their presence.
This ,vas the victory; but ,vhat ,vas gained by it ?
It was of course, directly and out,vardly, the victory
of a cause which has never been popular in England;
it rene\ved and strengthened the ties \vhich connected
England \vith that great centre of Christendom, ,,,here
justice and corruption, high aims and the vilest
rapacity and fraud, undeniable majesty and undeni-
able hollowness, were then, as they have ever been,

hIlL]

Al\YSEL1J['S LAST DA Y.S.

89

so strangely and inextricably combined. Anseltn's
victory, \vith its circumstances, \vas one of the steps,
and a very important one, which made Rome 1110re
po\verful in England: even \vith the profound and
updoubting beliefs of the eleventh and t\velfth cen-
turies, that did not recomn1cnd it to the sympathy of
Englishn1en; it is not likely to do so no\v. But those
\vho judge of events not merely by the light of ,,"hat
has happened since, and of \"hat, perhaps, have been
their direct consequences, but by the conditions of the
tin1es \vhen they happened, ought to ask themselves
before they regret such a victory as an evil, \vhat \vould
have come to pass if, in days like those of \Villian1
the Red and his brother, \vith the king's clerical
family as a nursery for bishops, and \vith clerks like
Ralph Flambard or Gerard of York, or even \Villiam
\Varehvast, for rulers of the Church, the king and his
party had triumphed, and the claims founded on the
" usages" to the submission of the Church and the
unreserved obedience of the bishops had prevailed
\vithout check or counterpoise? \Vould a feudalized
clergy, isolated and subservient, have done better for
religion, for justice, for liberty, for resistance to
arbitary \vill, for la\v, for progress, than a clergy con-
nected ,,'ith the rest of Christendom; sharing for
good, and also, no doubt, for evil, in its general move-
n1ent and fortunes, and bound by strong and real ties
not only to England, but to \"hat \vas then, after all,
the school and focus of religious activity and effort,
as \vell as the seat of an encroaching and usurping
centralization) the Ron1an Church. l\Ien n1ust do
\vhat they can in their o\vn day against \"hat are the
evils and dangers of their o\\'n day; they must use
s. L x. U

29:::>

A1VSELJI'S LAST DA YS.

[ CH A P.

against thetn the helps and remedies ,vhich their 0\\'11
day gives. There ,vas in those times no question of
\vhat ,ve no\v put all our trust in, the po,ver of la,v;
the gro,vth of our long histories and hard experiences,
and of the prolonged thought of the greatest intel-
lects of many generations. The po,ver ,vhich pre-
sented itself to men in those days as the help of right
against might, the refuge and protector of the ,veak
against the strong, the place \vhere reason might
make its appeal against ,vill and custom, \vhere liberty
\vas welcomed and honoured, ,vhere it ,vas a familiar
and stirring household ,vord, was not the la,v and its
judgment-seats, but the Church, "rith its authority,
concentrated and represented in the Pope. That
belief ,vas just as much a genuine and natural gro,vth
of the age, as the belief \vhich had also gro,vn up
about kings as embodying the po,ver of the nation;
that it ,vas abused by tyranny or ,veakness "ras
no more felt to be an argument against one than
against the other. The question \vhich nlen like
Anselm asked themselves ,vas, ho\v best they could
restrain \vrong, and counteract ,vhat \vere the plainly
evil and dangerous tendencies round them. He did
so by thro,ving hin1self on the spiritual po,ver behind
him, ,vhich all in his tÏtnec; ackno\vledged greater than
any po,ver of this ,vorId. vVhat else could any man in
his struggle against tyranny and vice have done? \Vhat
better, \vhat more natural course could any man have
taken, earnest in his belief of the paramount supe-
riority of spiritual things over material, and of reason
over force; earnest in his longing for reformation and
itl1provcnlent? The central po\ver of the Pope, "rhich
Anselm strengthened, gre,v rapidly \vith the growth

XII!.]

Al\'SELAf'S LAST DA J"S.

29 1

and advance of the tin1es: it gre\\T to be abused; it
usurped on the po\vers to \vhich it \vas the counter-
poise; it threatened, as they had threatened, to absorb
all rights of sovereignty, all national and personal
claims to independence and freedom; it had, in its
turn, to be resisted, restrained, at las_t in England
expelled. It ,vent through the usual course of
succ
ssful pO\\Ter in human hands. But this is no
reason ,,,hy at the time it should not ha\,re been the
best, perhaps, even the only defence of the greatest
interests of mankind against the immediate pressure
of the tyrannies and selfishness of the time. If any-
thing else could then have taken its place in those
days, the history of Europe has not disclosed it.
It may be thought, on the other hand, that the
actual point 'which Anseln1 gained ,vas not \vorth the
gaining; that \"hile he gained too much in one \vay,
as regards the influence of the Pope, he \"as cheated
out of the substance of \vhat he had been fighting for
in regard to checks on the king in the appointment
of bishops. But this \vas not the vie\v at the time.
Then the feeling \vas that t\\'o things had been done.
By the surrender of the significant ceremony of
delivering the bishopric by the emblematic staff and
ring, it \vas emphatically put on record that the
spiritual po\vers of the bishop ,vere not the king's
to give; the prescription of feudalism ,vas broken;
a correction \vas visibly given to the confused but
dangerous notions in \vhich that generation had been
brought up. In the second place, the king ,vas
strongly and solemnly reminded that he o\ved an
account for the persons ,vhom he appointed bishops;
they \yere not merely his creatures; they were not
U 2

29

A]\TSELJf'S LAST DA YS.

[ CHAP.

merely elevated and promoted on the ternlS on \vhich
he made a knight or a baron; the office \vas not his,
in the sense that he could sell it. There ,vas a body
of opinion to v,Thich he o\ved deference in such ap-
pointments; there v,'as an authority ,vith \vhich he
must reckon, and \vhich had a right to be satisfied.
Whatever the final arrangements v,'ere, or if there ,,,ere
any, about the right of appointing and electing pre-
lates (and there is a good deal of variation in the
language in \vhich these transactions are described),
there can be no doúbt that in the case of inlportant
digniti
s, like those of bishops and the great abbots,
the king \vould in the long-run find a ,vay to get
them, or the greater part of them, into his patronage.
But it was a distinct step that the attention of the
public, both ecclesiastical and civil, should be directed
to these appointments; that the king should be
reminded, even if he \vent against the "Tarning, as
Henry doubtless in many cases did" that there \\'ere
rules and fitnesses and other claims than his o\vn to
be thought of in g.iving bishoprics. Anselm's struggle
raised the general feeling about the calling and the
duties of a bishop. It ,vas a fit "york for the first
bishop and pastor of England, of one ,vho sat in the
first Christian see of the vVest; it ,vas ,vorth strug-
gling for; and it 'vas a '\ictory \vorth having, to have
in any degree sl!.cceeded in it.
And if nothing else had been gained, or if, ,vhen he
,vas gone, the tide of nc\v things-ne\v disputes, ne,v
failures, new abuses and corruptions-flo\ved over his
\\Tork, breaking it up and making it useless or harm-
ful, this at least ,vas gained, ,vhich \vas lllore lasting.-
the example of a man in the highest places of the

XII!.]

ANSELlIf'S LAST DA YS.

293

\vorld \vho, \vhen a great principle seemed entrusted to
him, \vas true to it, and accepted all tasks, all disap-
pointments, all humiliations in its service. The liberty
of God's Church, obedience to its la,v and its divinely
appointed chief, this \vas the cause for ,vhich Anselm
believed himself called to do his best. And he ,vas
not afraid. He was not afraid of the face of the
great, of the disapprobation of his fellows. It ,vas
then an age of much n10re plain speaking than
ours, \vhen intercourse bet\veen kings and other men
was more free, when expression \vas more homely,
and ,voot with less ceremony to the point. But \vhen
Anselm dared to tell \vhat he believed to be the
truth in the king's court, it ,vas more than the bluff-
ness of a rude code of manners; he accepted a call
\vhich seemed divine, \vith its consequences; the call
of undoubted truth and plain duty. That for ,yhich
he contended \vas to him the cause of purity, honesty,
justice; it involved the hopes of the \veak and
despised, in the everyday sufferings, as unceasing
then as in the days of \vhich the Psalms tell, of the
poor and needy at the hands of the proud and the
mighty. "There might be much to say against his
course; the 'usages' \vere but forms and trifles, or
they ,vere an important right of the cro\vn, and to
assail them ,vas usurpation and disloyalty, or it \yas
a mere dream to hope to abolish them, or they "'ere
not \vorth the disturbance \vhich they caused, or there
\vere \vorse things to be remedied; difficulties there were
no doubt; still, for all this, he felt that this \\raS the
fight of the day, and he held on unmoved. Through
\vhat ,vas romantic and ,,-hat \vas unromantic in his
fortunes
,vhether the contest sho\ved in its high or

294

ANSELllf'S LAST DA YS.

[ CH_-\P.

lo\v form-as a struggle in ' heavenly places' against
evil before saints and angels, \vith the unfading
cro\vn in vie\v, or as a game against co\vardly selfish-
ness and the intrigue of courts; cheered by the
sym pathies of Christendom, by the love and reverence
of the crowds \vhich sought his blessing; or brought
do\vn from his height of feeling by commonplace
disagreeables, the inconveniences of life-dust, heat,
and \vet, bad roads and imperialist robbers, debts and
fevers, lo\v insults and troublesome friends,-through
it all his faith failed not; it \vas ever the same
precious and ennobling cause, bringing consolation in
trouble, giving dignity to ,vhat \vas vexatious and
humiliating. It ,\?as her own fault if the Church
gained little by the con1promise, and by so rare a
lesson. In one sense, indeed, ,vhat is gained by any
great religious movement? vVhat are all reforn1s,
restorations, victories of truth, but protests of a
n1Ïnority ; efforts, clogged and incomplete, of the good
and brave, just enough in their o\vn day to stop
instant ruin-the appointed means to save \vhat is
to be saved, but in themselves failures? Good men
,york and suffer, and bad men enjoy their labours
and spoil then1; a step is n1ade in ad vance-evil
rolled back and kept in check for a \vhile only to
return, perhaps, the stronger. But thus, and thus
only, is truth passed on, and the \vorld preserved
from utter corruption. Doubtless bad men still con-
tinued po\verful in the English Church. Henry
tyrannized, evil ,vas done, and the bishops kept
silence ; lo\v aims and corruption may have still
polluted the very seats of justice; gold may have been
as po\verful ,vith cardinals as \\'ith I<'ing Henry and

XIII.]

A.i.YSELlJf'S LAST DA YS.

295

his chancellors. Anselnl nlay have over-rated his
success. Yet success and victory it ,vas-a vantage-
ground for all true men ,-rho ,,'ould follo,v hin1 ; and if
his ,,'ork ,vas undone by others, he at least had done
his task nlanfully. And he had left his Church another
saintly name, and the nlemory of his good confession,
enshrining as it ,vere her cause, to a\\'ait the day ,,'hen
some other champion should again take up the quarrel
-thus fronl age to age to be nlaintained, till He shall
come, to ,,-honl alone it is reserved' to still' for ever
the eneI11Y and the avenger, and to 'root out all
\\-icked doers fronl the city of the Lord.'"
There is little more to be said of Anselm. Henry
,vas loyal to his agreement. He entirely gaye up the
investiture of churches, so Anselm "Tote to the Pope,
even against the resistance of many; and in filling
up vacancies he follo,ved not his o\vn fancy, but took
the advice of religious nlen. His adviser in this ,vas
Robert Count of l\lellent, 'who had opposed Anselnl
so keenly; he ,vas the man to ,vhonl the king nlost
listened, and he had conle round to Anselnl's side.
The policy of the late reign ,vas entirely changed;
"but," says Eadnler, "the count did n0t love the
English, and ,vould not let any Englishnlen be pro-
moted to Church dignities." Henry, no,,, that he
,vas safe on his throne, attended to the representa-
tions made to him by Anselm and the chief 11len of
the realm, as to the evils ,vhich especially pressed
upon the poor. T,vo are nlentioned by Eadnler.
The K ornlan kings \vere ever moving about through
their kingdom; and the ,,'aste and plunder ,vhich ac-
companied the passage of their numerous attendants
through the country had conle to be, in the- la,\'less

2
6

ANSELJ1'S LAST DA YS.

[ CHAP.

days of the Red King, like the desolation of hostile
armies. " No discipline," says Eadnler, "restrained
thenl; they spoiled, they wasted, they destroyed.
\Vhat they found in the houses \vhich they invaded
and could not consunle, they took to market to sell for
thel11selves, or they burnt it; or if it ,vas drink, after
\vashing their horses' feet in it, they poured it abroad.
Their cruelties to the fathers of families, their insults
to their ,vives and daughters, it shanles nle to ren1en1-
ber. And so, whenever the king's conling \vas kno,vn
beforehand, they fled fronl their houses, and to save
thenlselves and what \vas theirs, as far as they could,
hid thenlselves in the \voods or \yherever they thought
they \vould be safest." This marauding of the ser-
vants and follo\vers of the court, Henry attenlpted
to check by stern penalties. He ,vas equally severe
and inexorable in punishing another crinle frolH
\vhich the poor suffered-the coining of false money;
and his efforts were not \vithout effect, says Eadnler,
in relieving the miseries of the land during all his
reIgn.
Anselnl's life \vas dra\ving to its close. The re-
enactment, and confirmation by the authority of the
great \JVhitsuntide Assembly, of the canons of the
Synod of London against
lerical nlarriage, and a dis-
pute ,vith t\VO of the Northern bishops, his old friend
Ralph Flanlbard, and the archbishop-elect of York,
\vho, apparently reckoning on Anselnl's age and bad
health, ,vas scheming to evade the odious obligation
of ackno,vledging the paramount clainls of the see of
Canterbury, ,vere all that marked the last year of his
life. A little more than a year before his o\vn death,
he had to bury his old and faithful friend,-a friend

XII!.]

Al\/SELllf'S LAST DA YS.

'297

first in the cloister of Bee, and then in the troubled
days of his English prin1acy, the great builder, Gun-
dulf, Bishop of Rochester. Anselm's last days shall
be told in the ,vords of one ,vho had the best right to
record the end of him ,,,hon1 he had loved so sin1ply
and so loyally-his attendant Eadmer.
"During these events (of the last t\VO years of his
life) he \vrote a treatise 'Concerning the Agreen1ent
of Forekno,yledge, Predestination, and the Grace of
God, ,vith Free vVill,' in \vhich, contrary to his ,vont,
he found difficulty in composition; for after his illness
at Bury St. Ednlund's, as long as he ,vas spared to this
life, he ,vas ,veaker than before; so that, ,vhen he ,vas
Illoving from place to place, he ,vas fronl that time
carried in a litter, instead of riding on horseback. He
,vas tried, also, by frequent and sharp sicknesses, so
that ,ve scarce dared pron1ise hinl life. He, ho\vever,
never left off his old ,vay of living, but ,vas ahvays
engaged in godly meditations, or holy exhortations,
or other good ,vork.
" In the third year after King Henry had recalled
him from his second banishment, every kind of food
by ,vhich nature is sustained becalne 10athson1e to
him. He used to eat, ho\vever, putting force on him-
self, kno\ving that he could not live without food; and
in this ,vay he son1ehow or another dragged on life
through half a year, gradually failing day by daY...in
body, though in vigour of mind he ,vas still the same
as he used to be. So being strong in spirit, though
but very feeble in the flesh, he could not go to his
oratory on foot; but froln his strong desire to attend
the consecration of the Lord's body, ,vhìch he vene-
rated "with a special feeling of devotion, he caused

29 8

ANSELAf'S LAST DA YS.

[CHAP.

himself to be carried thither every day in a chair.
'Ve ,vho attended on him tried to prevail on him
to desist, because it fatigued him so much; but ,ve
succeeded, and that ,vith difficulty, only four days
before he died.
"From that tin1e' he took to his bed, and, ,vith
gasping breath, continued to exhort all ,vho had the
privilege of drawing near him to live to God, each in
his own order. Palm Sunday had da\vned, and ,ve,
as usual, ,vere sitting round him; one of us said to
hinl, 'Lord Father, ,ve are given to understand that
you are going to leave the ,vorld for your Lord's
Easter court.' He ans\vered, .' If His ,vill be so, I
shall gladly obey His ,viII. But if He ,villed rather
that I should yet remain amongst you, at least till I
have solved a question ,vhich I am turning in my
mind, about the origin of the soul, I should receive it
thankfully, for I kno,v not ,vhether anyone ,,,ill finish
it after I am gone. Indeed, I hope, that if I could
take food, I might yet get ,veIL For I feel no pain
any\vhere; only, from ,veakness of Iny stomach, which
cannot take food, I am failing altogether.'
"On the follo,ving Tuesday, to\vards evening, he
was no longer able to speak intelligibly. Ralph
Bishop of Rochester asked him to besto\v his abso-
lution and blessing on us \vho \vere present, and on
his other children, and also on the king and queen
with their children, and the people of the land ,,,ho
had kept themselves under God in his obedience.
He raised his right hand, as if he ,vas suffering
nothing, and made the sign of the Holy Cross; and
then dropped his head and sank do\vn. The con-
gregation of the brethren were already chanting

XII!.]

ANSELllf'S LAST DA V.S'.

299

n1atins in the great church, ,vhen one of those \vho
\vatched about our Father took the book of the
Gospels and read before him the history of the
l'assion, 'which ,vas to be read that day at the Inass.
But ,vhen he came to our Lord's words, 'Y e are they
,vhich have continued \vith n1e in n1Y temptations,
and I appoint unto you a kingdon1, as n1Y Father
hath appointed unto me, that ye may eat and drink
at n1Y table,' he began to dra,v his breath more
slo,vly. vVe sa\v that he \vas just going, so he ,vas
removed from his bed, and laid upon sackcloth and
ashes. And thus, the ,vhole fan1ily of his children
being collected round him, he gave up his last breath
into the hands of his Creator, and slept in peace.
" He passed a,vay, as morning ,vas breaking, on the
\Vednesday before the day of our Lord's Supper, the
2 I st of April, in the year of our Lord's Incarnation
I I09-the sixteenth of his pontificate and the seventy-
sixth of his life."
The story of his departure, told so simply and
naturally, has its fringe of wonder and legend. The
balsam \vith ,vhich his body ,vas embalmed seemed
inexhaustible; the stone. coffin, 'which seemed too
small, \vonderfully enlarged itself. The eye of ad-
miration and affection ,vas ever on the look-out for
strange accoll1paniments of memorable events, and
readily sa,v them; it ,vas more true and n10re to be
depended on in seeing into heart and character than
into the outward facts of nature round it.
Those ,vho remenlber '\' alton's account of th

death-bed of Richard Hooker \\'ill notice nlore than
one point of likeness between the narrative of the
t\velfth century and that of the seventeenth. The soul,

3 00

Al'lSELJf'S LAST DA YS.

[ CHAP.

vigorous to the very end, amid the decay of the body
and the" gradual averseness to all food;" the cling-
ing, ,vithout affectation, to the love of life to finish a
cherished ,york ;-" he did not beg," \vrites \Valton, "a
long life of God for any other reason but to live to
finish his three rem.aining books of Polity; and then,
Lo
d, let thy servant depart in peace ;"-the calm,
quiet, unexcited continuance in the usual rites and
practices of a religious life, long familiar and become
part of everyday life; the comfort of Eucharist and
Gospel history; the el11ployment to the last moment
of the subtle and inquisitive intellect on its conge-
nial trains of abstruse thought, relating to the deep
Inysteries of both worlds, seen and unseen, and
rendered more real in the face of death-Anselm
revolving the origin of the soul, Hooker "meditating
the number and nature of angels, and their blessed
obedience and order, \"ithout \vhich peace could not
be in heaven,-and oh that it might be so on earth!"
-all these details bring together, at the distance of so
many ages, the t\vo great religious thinkers, ,vho out-
\vardly \vere so different. They make us feel that at
bottom, in spite of all changes and differences of
circumstance and custom, in spite of miracles told in
one age, and the prosaic {natter-of-fact of another, the
su bstance of human affections and of religious trust is
the same in both; and that to die as Ansehn died, or
to die as Hooker died, is to die in much the same
n1anner; \vith the same view of life novt and to come,
the same sense of duty, the same faith: the same
loyalty to the great Taskmaster and Ruler, the san1C
hope for the cleansing of \vhat ,vas ill in them, and
the making perfect what was incomplete; the saIne

XIII.]

A...VSELi1f'S LAST DA YS.

3 01

submission to the ''lill of God, the same loving hope
in Christ.
Anseln1 \yas first buried next to his friend Lanfranc
in the body of the minster of Canterbury, before the
great rood ,vhich rose up in the midst of it before
the choir. I-lis remains \vere a.ften,-ards translated to
the chapel beneath the south-east to,ver ,vhich no,v
bears his nan1e. There they no,v rest.
\Vhen he ".as gone, his contemporaries felt that the
tender-hearted, high-minded, resolute 01d nlan ,yho
had con1forted some of them and affronted others, ,vas
a man ,vhom they might be proud to have lived ''lith.
Bis ,vords, his ,,,ishes, his decisions, ,,-ere received,
even by those ,vho had opposed him, as oracles ,,-hich
could not be gainsaid. His name, as ,vas to be ex-
pected, passed into the roll of saints; but apparently
the steps of the process are not clear. His canoniza-
tion "'as demanded, but ,vithout effect, by Thomas
Becket: the final ratification of it is ascribed to a
papal bull some centuries later. It ,vas addressed
to Cardinal l\Iorton, Archbishop of Canterbury
under ,Henry VII. in 1494. 1 I have mentioned that
the last abbot of Bec ,ras 1\1. de T'alleyrand. The
Pope ,,,ho formally canonized St. ...\nselnl is said to
have been Alexander VI., Roderic Borgia. "In the
visible Church the evil are ever tningled ,,-ith the
good. "
But a very different judge had already interpreted
the opinion of Christendom about Anseln1. Before
he had suffered the indignity of a canonization at the
hands of Borgia, Dante had consecrated his memory,
and assigned hin1 a place ,,,ith those ,,,,,hon1 the Church
1 Crozet-
Iouchet, p. 4 82 .

3 0 :2

Al\"SELLtI'S LAST DA YS.

[CHAP.

honoured as her saints. The great singer of Christian
Europe, in his vision of Paradise, sees him among the
spirits of light and po\ver in the sphere of the 5un-
the special "nlinisters of God's gifts of reason"-
alnong those \VhOnl the l\liddle Age reverenced as
having sho\vn to it. \vhat the hunlan intellect, quick-
ened by the love of God, could do, in the humblest
tasks and sacrifices, and in the highest flights: \vith
prophets, historians, and philosophers; \vith theo-
logians and jurists; \vith the glories of the great
orders, St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Bonaventura,
and \vith their lo\yly first-fruits. He sees hinl as one
in those circling garlands of glorified spirits ,,"hich
he describes ans\vering to another as the double rain-
bow, in their movements of love and joy:

" As 'when her handmaid Juno summon!::, rise
Two arches of like hue, and parallel,
Drawn out on fleecy cloud athwart the skies,
The outer springing from the inner one.
Like to the voice of that fair nymph that strayed,
Consumed by love, as vapours by the sun:
* * * * * *
Even so the twofold Garland turned to us, -
Of roses formed, that bloom eterna11y ;
And one with other corresponded thus.
Soon as the sound of dance, and song, according
To such glad movement, and the revelry
Of light to light fres 1 1 bri1liancy affording,
\\ïth one consent were in a moment stil1,
Like eyes whose movements simultaneous are,
Opening au(1 shutting at the mover's will ;
From one of these new splendours came a sound." 1

And \yhen the poet makes the spirit of St. Bonaventura
enunlerate the t\\'elve stars of the garland in \"hich
he nloves, Dante, probably by accident, at any rate
1 Paradise, c. xii., \Y right's translation.

XIII.]

AJ.YSELJI'S LAST DA YS.

3 0 3

by an accident \vhich suits the double aspect of
Anselm's character, has joined his nanle at once ,vith
those \\'ho had stood for truth in the face of kings
and n1ultitudes, and \vith one ,,,ho ,vas the type of
the teachers of children in the first steps of kno,v-
ledge: the masters of thought and language in its
highest uses and its hUlnblest forms; ,vith the seer
,vhose parable rebuked I(ing David; \vith the
preacher ,vho thundered against Antioch and Con-
stantinople; \vith the once famous gran11narian, St.
] eron1e's master, fron1 ,,,horn the l\Iiddle Age schools
learnt the elementary la\vs \vhich govern human
speech, and out of ,,,hose book of rudiments Anselm
had doubtless taught his pupils at Bec:

" Kathan the seer, the metropolitan
John Chrysostom, Anselm, and he whose hands-
Donatus-deigned the primer's help to plan." 1

It is his right place :-in the noble company of the
strong and meek, \vho have not been afraid of the
mightiest, and have not disdained to ,york for and
\\'ith the lo\vliest: capable of the highest things;
content, as living before Him \vith ,,,horn there is
neither high nor 10\v, to minister in the humblest.

1 Dayman's translation.

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succeed ill completing the Nile Sources by the discovery of the great
reservoir of the equatorial wata's, the Albert .JV';-allza, from which th

river issues as the elltire rVhite Nile."-PREFACE.

NE\V AXD CHEAP EDITION OF TIlE ALBERT N'YANZA.
I yol. crown 8vo. With 1\Iaps and Illustrations. 7s. 6d.

Barker (LadY).-STATION LIFE IN NE'V ZEALAND.
By LADY BARKER. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.

" These letters are thl! exact accoltld of a lady's exþenencc of the brighter
and less practical side of colonization. They record the expeditions, ad-
z'elltures, and emergencies diversijj!ÍJll{ the daily life oJ the "loife of a Nez(l
Zealand sheeþ-farmer,. and, as each was writtell while the l107/clty and
excitement oj the scenes it describes "l.()ere fresh upon her, they may succeed
ill giving here in England all adequate impression of the delight and free-
dom if all existence so far removed from our lråJll highly-"lorought civiliza-
tioll." -PREFACE.
" IVe have never read a more trut/iful or tl Pleasanter little book."
ATIIE
ÆU
r.

Baxter (R. Dudley, M.A.).-THE TAXATION OF TIlE
UNITED KINGDOM:. Dy R. DUDLEY DAXTEF, 1\1. A. 8vo.
cloth, 4S. 6d.

The First Part of thz's 'work, originally read bifore the Statistical
Society of Londoll, deals "lvitlt the Amouut oj Taxatioll
' the SecoJld Part,
'Li}hich 1lOW cOllstitutes the main portioll of the "llJork, is almost entirely 11eu',
and embraces the important questions oJ Rating, of the relative Taxatioll
'?f Land, Personalty, and Industry, and of the direct ejject of Taxes upon
Prices. The author trusts that the body oJ facts here collected may be 0)
permanent value as a record of the þast progress and present condition oj
the pOþulatioll of the Ullited Kingdom, indeþendently of the transitory
circumstances of its presellt Taxation.

NATIONAL INCO::\lE. \Vith ColoureJ Diagrams. 8vo. 3s. 6d.
PART I.-Classification of the Populatioll, upþer, ,..JIiddle, and Labour
Classes. II.-Income of the Ullited Killgdom.
" .d painstaking and certaillly most illteresting inquiry. "-PALL
IALL
G.\ZET'fE.

HISTOR
BIOGRAPHY,
TRA VELS. 3

Bernard.-FOUR LECTURES ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED
\VITH DIPLO
IACY. By l\IouNTAGUE BERNARD, l\LA.,
Chichele Professor of International Law and Diplomacy, Oxford.
8vo. 9s.
.Þòur Lectures, dealing with (I) The Cong ress of JVestphalitl; (2) Systems
'-!f Policy; (3) Diplomacy, Fast and Present; (4) The Obligations oJ
Treaties.

Blake.-THE LIFE OF 'VILLIA
I BLAKE, THE ARTIST.
By ALEXA:KDER GILCHRIST. 'Vith numerous Illustrations from
Blake's designs, and Fac-similes uf his studies of the "Book of
Job. " Two vols. medium 8vo. 32S.
These volumes contain a Life of Blake
. Selections from his JVritings,
including Poems
. Letters; Annotated Catalogue of Pictures and Drawings,
List, 'i(Jith occasionalllotes, of Blake's Engravings and TVritings. There
are aþþended Engraved Designs by Blake
' (I) The Book of Job, twenty-
tJne þhoto-lithograþhs from the originals.. (2) Songs of Innocence ami
Exþerience, sixteell of the original Flates.

Blanford (W. T.).-GEOLOGY
\
D ZOOLOGY OF
ABYSSIXL\.. By "T. T. BLA:KFORD. 8vo. 2 IS.
This 'work cOlltaÙu all account of the Geological and Zcological
Observations made by the Author in Abyssinia, wllell accoJJlþaJl1,illg the
British Army Oll its lIlarch to J/agdala and back in 1868, and during a
sltor! jounle;' in l'lortherll Abyssinia, after the deþmture of the troops.
Part 1. Personal _Varrative
. Part II. Geolo..r;)'
. Part III. Zoology.
IVith Colom'cd Illustrations and GeologicalilIaþ.

Bright (J ohn, M.P .).-SPEECIIES ON QUESTIONS OF
PUBLIC POLICY. By the Right Hon. JOH
BRIGHT, 1\1. P.
Edited by Professor THOROLD ROGERS. Two \'ols. 8vo. 25s.
Second Editicn, with rortrait.
" I have divÙlr:d the Sþeeches containt-"d ill t1'ese volumes into grouþs.
The materials for selectioll are so abundant, that I have been constrained
to omit many a speech whÙ-h is 'Worthy of cariful þerusal. I have
naturally given þrominence to those sulJects with 'lohich i1/r. Bright has
heell esþecially identijied, as, for examþle, India, America, Ireland, and
Parliamentary Reform. But nearly eve})' toþic of great þublic interest on
';tJhich 1/11'. Bright has sþol.:ell is reþréselltcd Ùl these volumfs."
ErIToR's PREF.\CE.

A Z

4

GENERAL CATALOGUE.

Bright, (John, M.P.) (rOlltinued)-
AUTHOR'S POPULAR EDITION. Extra fcap. 8vo. cloth. Second
Edition. 3s. 6d.

Bryce.-THE HOLY R01\IAN El\IPIRE.
B.C.L., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford.
..

By JAMES BRYCE,
[Reþrinting.

CAMBRIDGE CHARACTERISTICS. See
lULLI!'\GER.

CRA TTERTON: A Biographical Study. By DANIEL \VILSON,
LL.D., Professor of History and English Literature in University
College, Toronto. Crown 8vo. 6s. 6d.
The Author here regards Chatterton as a Poet, 110t as a mere" resetter
and dqacer of stolen literary treaslwes." Reviewed in this l
;rht, he has
found mllch in the old materials capable oj being turned to neiV aCCOl/llt
.
and to these materials researcll ill various directions }ws el1ablcd him to
make some additions.

ClaY.-TIIE PRISON CHAPLAIN. A l\Iemoir of the Rev. JOHN
CLAY, B.D., late Chaplain of the Preston Gaol. \Yith Selections
frl)m his Reports and Correspondence, and a Sketch of Prison
Discipline in England. By his Son, the Rev. \V. L. CLAY, J\.LA.
8vo. 15s.
"Few books have appeared oj late years better altitlt'd to an attenth'l
þcrusa I. . . . It þresents a comPleit> llarrativ! of all that Iws been dOll! and
atlempted by various Philanthropists jor the amelioration of the condition and
the illlþrOlJement of the morals oj the criminal cla!ìSes ill the British
dominions. "-LONDON REVIEW.

Cobden.-SPEECHES ON QUESTIONS OF PUBLIC
POLICY. Ðy RICHARD COBDEN. Edited by the Right lIon.
JOH
BRIGHT, 1\1. P , and Professor ROGERS. Two vols. 8vo. \Vith
Portrait. (Uniform with BRIGHT'S SPEECHES.)

Cooper.-ATHENÆ CANTABRIGIENSES. By CHARLES
HENRY COOPER, F. S. A., and THOMPSON COOPER, F. S. A.
Vol. I. 8vo., 1500-85, 18s. Vol. 11., 1586-1609, 18s.
This elaborate work, 7.vhich is d.'dieated by þermission to Lord iI/neaufar,
contains lives of the emine1tt 1Jlt'n sent forth by Ca1Jlbri.Ig
, after the
fashion of A llthoJ1.y à Wood, Ùl his famous" A thenæ Oxonienses."

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY,
TRAVELS. 5

Cox (G. V., M.A.).-RECOLLECTIONS OF OXFORD.
By G. V. Cox, M.A., K ew College, Late Esquire Bedel and
Coroner in the University of Oxford. Secolld Editioll. Crown 8vo.
I os. 6d.
"All aml/.dng farrago of anecdote, and 'iLlill þleasantly ncall in many
a coulltry parsonage the memor,)' {if)'01t!liful days."-TIMES.

Dicey (Edward).-THE :MORNI
G LAXD. By EDWARD
DICEY. Two vols. crown 8vo. 16s.
" A 11 invitatioll to be þresent at the oþening of the Suez Callal 'ivas the
immediate cause of my journey. But I made it 1JlY object also to see as
much of tIle AIorlling Land, of 'iuhose marvels the canal across the
Isthmus is Ollly the least alld lattst, as time and oþportzmity would permit.
The result of my obserz'ations 'iiJas CO!JlJJl1l1Ûcated to the journal I then
reþresented, ill a series of ldters, which I now giz'e to thi? public in a
ú}llected form. "-Extract from A UTHOR'S PREFACE.
Dilke.-GREATER BRIT AI1\". A Record of Travel in English-
speaking Countries during I 866-7. (America, Australia, India.)
Dy Sir CHARLES 'YEr\T\VORTH DILl-a:, 1\1. P. Fifth and Cheap
Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s.
" AIr. Dilke has 'written a lYook 'which is þrobabl;' as well worth reading
tlS any llook of the same aims and character that ever 7.i.'as 'ivritten. lts
merits are that it is written in a live!;' and agreeable style, that it imþlies
(1 great deal of physical þluck, that no þage of it fails to sho'w an acute and
hig/lly intelligent obset'7/er, that it stimulates the imaginatioll as 'well as the
judgment of the reader, alld that it is on perhaþs the most interesting
ntbject that can attract an Englis/lJIlllll who cares about his cmmtr}'."
SATURDAY REVIEW.

Dürer (Albrecht).-IIISTORY OF TIlE LIFE OF AL-
BRECHT DÜRER; of Niirnùerg. 'Yith a Translation of his
Letters and Journal, and some account of his works. By I\1rs
CHARLES HEATOr\. Royal8vo. ùeyelled boards, eÀtra gilt. 3 IS . 6d .
This 'iL1ork contaills about Thirty Illustrations, täl of'ltJhich are produc-
tions by the AutolJpe (carbon) process, and are þrÙzted ill permanent tints
by AIessrs. Cundall alld Fleming, ullder license from the Autotvpe Com-
f aIl 1', Limited; th
1'est are Photographs and TFóodcuts.

EARLY EGYPTIA); HISTORY FOR THE YOUNG. Stt
" JUYE
ILE SECTIO
."

G

GEl'lERAL CA T.ALOGUE.

Elliott.-LIFE OF IIEXRY YENX ELLIOTT, ot Brighton.
By JOSIAH BATEMAi'õ, ::\1.1\., Author of "Life of Daniel'Vilson,
Bishop of Calcutta," &c. 'Yith Portrait, engraved by JEE
S ;
and an Appendix containing a short sketch of the life of the Rey.
Julius Elliott (who met with accidental death while ascending the
Schreckhorn in July, 1869.) Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d. Second Edition,
with Appendix.

"A very charmil1g Piece of ,'eligious biograþhy; 110 one call read it
without both þleasure and profit." -BRITISH QUARTERLY REVIEW.

Fairfax.-A LIFE OF TIlE GREAT LORD FAIRFAX,
Commander-in-Chief of the .Army of the Parliament of England.
By CLE:\IENTS R. ::\L-\RKH.\:\l, F. S. A. 'Yith Portraits, ,Map:.;,
Plans, and Illustrations. Demy 8\'0. I6s.
lVO full Life of the òn'at Parlianlé.'lltaJ)' C01llmander has aþþcarä!'-
alld it is here sought to þroduct o1lc-based upon careful rcscarch in COIl-
täJlþorary records alld uþon family and otht'1
doculllcnts.

Forbes.-LIFE OF PROFESSOR ED"TARD FORBES,
F.R.S. By GEORGE 'VILSOK, :M.D., F.R.S. E., and ARCHIBALD
GEIKIE, F. R. S. 8vo. with Portrait, 14s.

" From the first page to the last the book claims careful reading, as being
a full but 1I0t overcr07.vded rehea1-s
1 of a most Í1zstructiz'e life, and the true
picture of a mind that was rare ill strengtlt and beauQ,."-ExAMINER.

Freeman.- I-IISTORY OF FEDERAL GOVERX.:\IENT,
from the Foundation of the Achaian League to the Disruption of
the United States. Dy EDWARD _\. FREE:\IAN, :\1.1\. Vol. I.
General Introduction. History of the Greek Federations. 8vo.
21S.

" The task .J.1Ir. Freeman has undertaken is one of great magnitude: and
imþortance. It is also a task of all almost entirely 1lOZ'e! character. 1V
-,
other work þroJèssi1lg to giz:e the histor)' of a þolitical princiPle occu.rs ILl
ItS, exceþt the sligltt contributions to the history of reþrest:lltati't/e gO'i/erll-
ment that is contained ill a course of JI. Guizot's lectures . . . . The:
hÙtory of the dez,e!oþmellt of a þrinciple is at least as imþortant as tht:
history if a d)'llaslJ', or of a raa." --S:\ TFRDA Y REVIEW.

HISTORJ
BIOGRAPHY, 0,-.5 TRA VELS. 7

Freeman (contiIllICd)-
(>LD EKGLISH HISTORY FOR CHILDREX. By EDWARD A.
FREE
IAX, l\LA., late Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford. \Vith
Fh'e Colound ./lEaf-f. Extra [cap. 8\'0., half-bound. 6s.
cc Its dyect is to ShOLl' that clear, accurate, and scíentific viCLi!S of hist01J',
(1r indeed 0/ any suiject, may be easily gh'ell to children from the "Z!CY)'
first. . . I hm./e, I hote, shO'io1l that it is þäfixtly eaS1' to teach children, from.
the vel" first, to distinguish true hist01)' alike fi omlegelld and from wilful
jlll/elltion, and also to understand the nature of historical authorities, and
to 'weigh one statement against another. . . . . I haz'e throughout striven. to
connect the hist01:J' of Englalld 'with the general histoJY of civilized Euroþe,
and I have eSþecially tried to make the book serve as an incentive to a more
accurate studJ' 0/ historical geograþh)'," -PREFACE.

French (George Russell).-SHAKSPEAREANA
GEXEALOGICA. 8\"0. cloth extra, 15s. Uniform with the
"Cambridge Shakespeare."
Part I.-Ide1ltification of the dramatis personæ in the historical plays,
(rom King 70hn to I{ing HellY)' 17II.
' JVotes 011 Chm-acters in lIIacbeth
'll1d Hamlet; Perso1ls and Places belonging to TVa1"iiJickshire alluded to.
Part II. - The Shaksþeare and A 1'den fa/JUlies and their co1tllexions, 'with
Tables of descent. The present is the first attemþt to give a detailed de-
scription, in cOllsecutiz'e order, of each of the dramatis personæ in Shak-
speare's im1Jlortal chronicle-histories, and some of the character
have been,
it is be/iez'ed, herein identified for the first time A clue is furnished which,
(o11O'Wed uþ 'with ordÙlaJJ' diligence, may enable an)' one, <t.lith a taste for
the pursuit, to trace a distinguished Shaksþeareall ,<eorthy to his lineal
npresentatÍ7./e ill the þresent da)'.

Galileo.-THE PRIYA TE LIFE OF GALILEO. Compiled
principally from his Correspondence and that of his eldest
rlaughter} Sister :Maria Celeste, Nun in the Franciscan Convent of
S. l\fatthew in Arcetri. \Yith Portrait. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
It lzas been the endem/our of the comþile,,. tQ place bcJõre the 1"eader a
tlain, 1l1lgarbled statement if fads
. and as a means to this end, to allow
Calileo, his friellds, alld his judges to sþeak for themselves as Jar as possible.

Gladstone (Right. Hon. W. E., M.P.).-JUYEXTUS
:MUNDI. The Gods and l\Ien of the Heroic Age. Crown 8vo.
cloth extra. \VÍth l\lap. IO.\'. 6d. Second Edition.

<'
o

GE1\/ERAL CA T ALOGUE.

Gladstone (Right. Hon. W. E., M.P.) (colltiJlued)-

This new 'liJork of AIr. Gladstone deals especially with the historic
dement Ùt IIomer, eXþounding that element and furnishing by its aid a
full account 0/ the Homeric mell and the Homeric 1'eligioll. It starts, after
the introductol)' chapter, 'with a discussion 0/ the several races then existing
ill .lIellas, including the Ù!:fluence of the Fhænicians alld Egyptians. It
contains chaþters 011 the dl)'11lþiall system, with its several deities; 011 the
Ethics and the Folit)' of the Heroic age 7. Oil the geography of IIomeY; on
the characlt..rs of the Poems 7. þresenti1lg, ill fine, a vie;,tJ of þrimitive life
and primitive society as found ill the þoems of .lIome1. To this AY["Zt}
I:'dition 'L'arious addllions have bccn made.

" GLOBE " ATLAS OF EUROPE. Uniform in size with l\Iac-
millan's Globe Series, containing 45 Coloured 1\Iaps, on a uniform
scale and projection; with Plans of London and Paris, and a
copious Index. Strongly bound in half-morocco, with flexible
back, gs.
This Atlas includes all the countries of Euroþe ill a series of 48 Afaps,
drawn Oll the same scale, with an Alphabetical Index to the situation 0./
more than tell thousand Places, aud the relatio1l ol the '['ariolls maps aud
countries to each other is defined ill a general Key-maþ. All the maps
being Oll a uniform scali! facilitates the comparison of extellt and distance,
and conveys a just impression of the relatil/e magnitude of differellt c81mtries.
The size sliflices to show the prcnÙlcial divisio1ls, the 1-ailwa)'s ond main
roads, the principal rivers 1l1ld mountain ranges. " This atlas," 7i}rites the
l
ritish Quarterly, "'will be all invaluable boon for the school, the desk, or
the tnwellt-r's þortmanteau."

Godkin (James).-TIIE LAND \VAR I!\ IREln\XD. A
lIistory for the Times, By J.\
tES GODKI
, Author of "Ireland
and her Churches," late Irish Correspondent of the Times. 8vo. 12s.
.1 Histol)' of the Irish Land Question.

GUizot.-(Author of "JOII
HALIFAX, GEXTLEMA
. ")-1\1. DE
13ARANT E, A l\Iemoir, Biographical and Autobiographical. By
)1. GUIZOT. Translated by the Author of "JOHN HALIFAX,
GE!'oiTLEMAN'." Crown 8vo. 6s. 6d.
,. The highest purposes of both history and blOgraÞky are allS1llcred by a
memoir so lifeli/..'e, so fait/lillI, and so þhilosoþhical."
BRITISH QUARTERLY REVIEW.

HIS TOR r, B10GRA P II Y, G
TRA VELS. 9

HISTORICAL SELECTIOXS. Readings from the best Authorities
on English and European History. Selected and arranged b)'
E. 1\1. SE\\ ELL and C. 1\1. Y O:\'GE. Crown 8vo. 6s.

H'iLOl )'tJll1lg children have acquired the outlines of histOJ)' from abrzdge-
mer!s and catfdusms, and it becomes desirable to glt}e a more enlarged
'i'few if the subject, Ùl order to relldä' it ?-call)' useful alld interesting, a
difficullJ' often arises as to the choice of books. TItJo courses are open, either
to takc a general and consequent!;' dry histOJ)' oj facts, such as Russell's
.L1fodL7'11 Europe, or to choose some ,('ork trc:ating of a þarticular period 01'
:ill{yed, such as the 'works oj ilIacaulil)' aud Froude. The former (ours,"
usually 1-enders history unÍ11tt?r,'stillg; the latter is 1l1lsatiifactOJ)', becaust"
it is 1/ot sufficiently ({1mþrehellsh'e. To remedy this diiJicult)', selections,
continllous aud chro1lological, hat/e ill the present 'Z!olulIle beell taken from
the larger works of Freeman, lIIilman, Palgrm e, and others, 'which maJ'
serL.'e as distinct lalldmarks of historical readillg. "IVe kllcrcL/ of scarcely
llll)'thillg," saJ's the Guardian, of this volume, "which is so likely to rais
to a higher It?t!el the a,,'erage standard of EllgliSh education."

Hole.-A GEXEALOGICAL STE::\I
IA OF THE KIXGS OF
EKGLAXD AXD FRAKCE. By the Rev. C. HOLE, ::\I.A.,
Trjnity College, Cambridge. On Sheet, Is.

The different fil1llilies are prillted ill distinguishhlg colom's, thus facili-
telting reference.

.\ BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIOXARY. Compiled and
Arranged by the Rev. CHARLES HOLE,
I.A. Second Edition.
I8mo. neatly and strongly bound in cloth, 4-1'. 6d.

One 0/ the most comprehellsÍ7!e and accurate BÙ7.;rraPhical DictlOnaná
ill the 'Loorld, cOlltaÙtillg more thall 18,000 þersons 0/ all cOll1ltries, 'Lilith
dates 0/ birth ancl death, and what they 'Leere dlJtillguished for. ExträJl

care has been bc?Stù,-IJed on the "'èrificatioll 0/ the dates,. and thus 1ll11l1erOliS
errors, Cllrrt:llt in Þrc:<.'iolls works, have bæn cO/-rated. Its si::e adapts it
.lor the desk, portmanteau, or pocl.:d.

" A 11 invaluable additioll to OilY manuals l!/ 1-efi.
rCllce, al1d, from its
l1l0de1'ate þriet" cannot fail !t.-7 recollle as f'{1fular as it is useful." - THIEs.

10

GE1ÇERAL CATALOGUE.

Hozier.-THE SEYEX \YEEKS' \VAR: Its Antecedents and
its Incidents. By I!. 1\1. HazIER. \Yith
Iaps and Plans. Two
yols. 8\'0. 28s.

This work is based uþon letters rcþrillkd by permission from "The
Times. " For the most þart it is a þrodllct of a þersonal eye-witness of somc
of the most ÙztereslÙlg incident,r of a 'war 'which, for raþidity alld decisit.,c
-results, may claim an almost ullri'l'alled þosition ill histol]'.

TIlE BRITISH EXPEDITIOX TO ADVSSIXIA. Compiled from
Authentic Documents. By CAPTAIX HEXRY
I. HazIER. late
Assistant
1ilitary Secretary to Lord X apier of ::\lagdala. 8\"0. 9s.

CC Several aCCOUJlts of the British Exþedition ha'l'e been þublished. . . . .
77zty have, hO""tlJe'l/er, been written by those 'who ha'Z'e 110t had access to thost
authentic documents, 'which callnot be collected directly after the terminatioll
of a camþaign. . . . . The endf'a'l'ollr of the author oj this .sketch has been t)
þreSèJzt to readers a succinct and imþartial account 0; a11 enterþrise 'lC.'hic/l
has raul-v been equalled i
l the a1lnals of'wm-.".-PREFAcE.

Irving.-THE AXX ALS OF OUR TI
IE. A Diun1al of Events.
Social and Political, which have happened in or had relation to
the Kingdom of Great Britain, from the Accession of Queen
Yictoria to the Opening of the present Parliament. Ey J aSEPH
IRYI!\G. 8vo. half-bound. r8s.

" TVé hmJe before us a trust)' and read;' guide to the eL'cnt.r of the þast
thirt), years, a':"/ailable equal!)' for tIle states mall, the þolitician, the þublic
';iJ}'iter, and the gel1t!ral reader. If 1/11'. In'Í1zg's olject has been to brill!;
/lefore the reader all the most nott'7,orth)' occurrences 'which haz'e haþþened
Sl1lce the beginJling of I-Ic:r llIajc.sty's I'CI:E;Jl, he ma)' justly claim the credit
(1' having done so most briif!y, sllccinctly, and simþl)', alld ill slIch a
malzner, too, as to furnÙh him ,;vith the details llecesSa1]' i11 each case tl'
comþrehend the e'Vf1zt of 'which he is ill search in aft intelligent manncr.
Reflection 'Zoill Sel"l/e to show the gr,'at 'Zlalue oj such a 'Zi}01'k as this to thi
journalist and statcsman, and Í11dù'd to eL'cry one ii.'ho feels all illterest ill
the þrogress of the age,. and we 1lla)' add [hat its value is considerably in-
creased b)' the additioll 0/ that most imþortallt of all aþþe1ldices, f!1!
aCéurate alld iJlstrlldÍl.'e index. " -TIMES.

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHr,
TRA VELS. II

Kingsley (Canon).-ox TIlE AXCIEX REGL\IE as it
Existed on the Continent before the FRE"\CH REYOL'LTIOX.
Three Lectures delivered at the Royal Institution. By the Rev.
C. KINGSLEY, :\1. A., formerly Professor of ::\Iodern History
in the University of Cambridge. Crown 8\"0. 6s.

These three lectures discllss se'i/eral
v (I) Caste, (2) Centralization, (3)
The Exþlosiz'e Forces b)' 'tl'hich the Re'l'olutioll 'was superinduced. The
Preface deals at some length 'with certai1l þolitical questions 0/ the þresent
da)'.

THE R01\IAN AND TIlE TEUTOX. A Series of Lectures
delivered before the University of Cambridge. By Rev. C.
KINGSLEY,
L.A. 8vo. 12S.

CONTEXTS :-IJlaug1l1'al Lecture
' The Forest Children
' The Dyill,';
EmPire; The Huma1l Deluge
' The Gothic Ci7Jilizer; Dietrich's E1ld; The
J.\ emesis of the Goths; Paulus Diac01l1JS; The Clergy and the Hålthen :
The Jlfo1lk a Ch.ilizer
' The Lombard Laí.(!s; The POþes and the LOlllbm-ds ;
The Strategy of PrO'iJidence.

Kingsley (Henry, F.R.G.S.).-T.ALES OF OLD
TRA YEL. Re-narrated by HEXRY KINGSLEY, F. R.G. S. 'Yith
Eight Illustrations by HUARD. Crown 8vo. 6s.

CONTENTS :-..L1Iarco Polo.: The Ship;.ureck of Pelsart
. The TVollde1fitl
Adventures 0/ Andrew Battel
' The IVanderi1lgs of a Capuchin; Peter
Carder; The Preservation of the" Terra .J.. Vova
." Spitzbergen; D' E rme-
11OnîJille's Acclimatization A d,Jcllture: The Old Slave Trade; Jlfiles Philips;
The Sufferings of Robert EZ1eJ'ard; John Fox,. A h.'aro jl/UJlez
' The Foun-
dation 0/ a1l Emþire.

Latham.-BLACK Aì\D ".IUTE: A Journal of a Three
Ionths'
Tour in the United States. By HEKRY LATHA
I,
I.A., Barrister-
at-Law. 8vo. I os. 6d.

CC The sPirit ill 'which fib-. Latham has 'Written about Ollr brethren lit
1merica is commendable in h

h d
R"Yæ."-ATHENÆt:M.

12

GENERAL C.r1T.rlLOGú T E.

LaW.-THE ALPS OF IIANI\IB
\L. By \YILl.IAl\1 JOHN LAW,
:?\-LA., formerly Student of Christ Church, Oxford. Two vols.
8vo. 2 IS.

"No one call read the 'Work and 110t acquire a conviction that, ,in
additioll to a thorough grasþ of a particular toþic, its 'writer has at
command a large store 0 reading alld tholl.:Jht uþon mallY cognate pOl/lis
o/tlJlCÙ:llt history all.l geograþhy."-QUARTERLY REVIEW.

Liverpool.-TIlE LIFE AND AD::\nKISTRATIO
OF
ROBERT BANKS, SECOND EARL OF LIVERPOUL, K.G.
Compiled from Original Family Documents by CHARLES DUKE
YONGE, Regius I'rofessor of History and English Literature in
Queen's College, Belfast; and Author of "The History of the
British Navy," "The History of France under the Bourbons," etc.
Three vols. 8vo. 42S.

Sillce the time of Lord Burleigh 1/0 olle, except the secolld Pitt, rver
nzjoyed so long a tenure of power
' 'With the same exceþtion, 110 one ever
held office at so critical a time. . . . Lord LÏ7./erþool is the very last
l'li1lister 'Who has been able fully to carry out his 07vn political views; 'who
/ws been so strong that ill matters of general policy the Opþosition could
extort 110 cOllcessions from him 'Lohich 'Were 110t sanctioned by his own
delibt!rate jud ò mellt. The þresellt work is fou1lded almost entirely 011 the
t.:orresþoudellce left behind him by Lord Liverþool, alld nerd) in the þossession
{if Colonel and Lady Catherille Harcourt.

"Full ofill/ormation and íllstructioll."-FoRT
IGHTLY REVIEW.

M acle ar .-See Sectioll "ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY."

Macmillan (Rev. Hugh).-HOLIDAYS ON HIGH
LANDS; or, Rambles and Incidents in search of Alpine Plants.
By the Rey. HUGH
rAC\IILLAX, Author of " Bible Teachings in
Nature," de. Crown 8vo. cloth. 6s.
"Botanical knowledge is blende-d with a love of llt.ltur
, a Piol/s ell-
tll1lsiaslll, alld a rich j
Ücit)' of dictioll nut to be met with in 011)' 'Zvorks
{!! kmdred character, if 'Ll'e except those of IIlI';Jz lIIiller." -DAILY
TELEGRAPH.

HIS TOR Y, BIOGRAPIIY, b TRA rEL..s.. 13

Macmillan (Rev. Hugh), (contillllc:d)-

FOOT-XOTES FRO
I THE PAGE OF KATURE.
numerous Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo. 5s.

'Vith

CC Those 'who haz'e derived þ/easme aJld profit from the study 0./ fliYLi!erS
aJld ferns-subjects, it is pkasiJlg to find, ll07tJ el}erywher
popular-by
desCéIl.!inl{ It,Wtr into the arcalla of the z'egt.'table kingdom, u'lll find a still
more il/terestillg alld delightful field of research in the Oijlxts brought under
review 11l thefoll(Tc.l'Í1zg þages."-PREFACE.

BIBLE TEACHIXGS I
XA TURE. Fourth Edition. Fcap 8vo.
bs. -Sæ also" SCIENTIFIC SECTIO:'l."

Martin (Frederick).-THE STATES
IA
'S YE_-\R-BOOK :
A Statistical and Historical Account of the States of the Civilized
'Vorld. :Manual for Politicians and N[erchants for the year 1870.
By FREDERICK l\IARTIX. Seventh Annual Publication. Crown
8vo. 1 Os. 6d.

The nntJ issue has been entirely re-'written, revised, and corrected, OIl th

basis of olficia! reports received direct (rom the hèads of the lading Cltvenz-
nll'nts of the Hórtd, in rt'þly to letters sent to them by the Editor.

"Everybody who knows this work is aware that it is a book that is indis-
þensable to writers, financiers, politicians, statesmen, and all who are
dirèctly or indirectly interested ill the þolitical, social, industrial, COIll-
mercial, alld financial cOlldition 0/ their fillow-creatures at home aml
abroad. Afr. Afartin deserves warm commendatioll for tht! care he tal..'èJ
ill making' The Statesman's }
ar Book' complete and corrtxt."
STA
D.\RD.

HANDBOOK OF CO
TE)IPORARY BIOGRAPHY. By
FREDERICK ,MARTIN, Author of "The Statesman's Year-Book."
Extra fcap. 8vo. 6s.

This '{'olume is an attemþt to produce a book of refi'Ycncc, furnishillg Ùz
a condt'1tsed form some bio,graphical particulars 0/ tlotable living men.
The leadillg idea has been to giz.'e Ollly facts, and those ill the briifest form,
alld to exclude opinions.

14

GEl\lERAL (
4 T.dLOGUE.

Martineau.-nIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, 18 5 2 - 1 868.
By HARRIET :r-.IARTI
EAU. Third Edition, with New Preface.
Crown 8vo. 8s. 6d.
A Collection of ,JIemoirs under these se7)eral sections :-(1) Royal, (2)
Politicians, (3) Professional, (4) Scientific, (5) Social, (6) Literary. TheJ"e
,JIcJIloirs appæred on
'1'Jlally ill the COIUlllllS oj'the "Daily N"ews."
.

Masson (Professor).-ESSAYS, IHOGRAl'HICAL AKD
CRITICAL. See Section headed" POETRY AND BELLES LETfRF.S.'

LIFE OF JOlIN :L\IILTON. Narrated in connexion with the
Political, Ecclesiastical, and Literary History of his Time. By
DAVID J\IASSON, 1\1.A., LL.D., Professor of Rhetoric at Edin-
burgh. VoL 1. with Portraits. 8vo. 18s. V 01. II. in the Press.

It is intended to exhibit .JIilton's life in its cOllllexiolls with all the more
/lotable phenomena of the period of British history Ùl which it was cast-
its state þolitics, its ecclesiastical variations, its literature and speculati7Je
thought. Commencing ill 1608, the Life 01 .J.
IiltolZ þroceeds through the
last sixteen )'æ1'S of the reign of Jallles I., includes the whole of the râgJt
oj' Charles I. llud the subsequäd YèllrS of the COIJl11l0n'lt1äIlth and the
Protectorate, and theil, passing the Restonltioll, extends itself to 1674, or
through fourtcen )'t?ars of the 1lé?"& state of thing.r under Charles I l. The
fin't volume deals ';ilith the life of .JIiltoll llS extending from 1608 to 1640,
which was the pä'iod 0/ his education and oj /Ús minor þoems.

fJIorison.-THE LIFE A\XD TI
rES OF SAINT BERNARD,
Abbot of Clairvaux. Ey JA
IES COTTER j\10RISO
, 1\l.A. l\ew
Edition, reviseù. CrowIl 8VL js. 6d.

" One of the best c01ltributions ill our litenlture tcrwards II vivid, intel-
ligellt, alld 'Worthy kllowledg-e of .l:.:uroPålll znten.:sts alld thoughts and
feelings during the t-dJelflh century. Jl ddightfullllld instructive volume,
and olle if the best þroducts of the modern historic sþi'rit."
PALL :\IALL GAZET fE.

Morley (J ohn).-ED
IU:XD BURKE, a Historical Study. By
J OIl
:\10RLEY, B. A. O.>..on. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.

HISTORY, BIOGRAP.fIY, 5-=> TRA VELS. 15

" The style is terse and Í1zcisiz/i', and brilliant 'with epigram and point.
It contains pithy aphoristic sentences which Burke himself 'would 110t have
disowned. But these are not its best features: its sustaincd þo'wer 0/
reasoning, its wide Sí.lJèeþ oJ observation alld reflectioll, its elevated ethical
llld soda! tone, stamp it as a 'work of high excellence, allå as sllch /.,('e
cordÙllly recolJlmend it to our reaJèrs."-SATURDAY REVIEW.

Mullinger.-CA:\IBRIDGE CIL\R.ACTERISTICS IN THE
SEVENTEEXTH CEXTURY. By J. D.
IL"LLI
GER, IL.A.
Crown 8vo. 4J. 6J.

It is a very entertaining and readable book."-SATURDAY REVIEW.
" The chaþters Oil the Cadc:siall Philosophy Llnd Iltè Cambridge Platollisls
are admirable." -A THEXÆU
l.

Palgrave.-IIISTORY OF XOR
IAXDY AXD OF E
G-
LAXD. Dy Sir FRA:\CIS P ALGRA VE, Deputy Keeper of Her
Maje
ty's Public Records. Completing the History to the Death
of \Yilliam Rufus. Four vots. Svo. 1:44s.

Volume I. Ge/leral Relations tý JIedÙe'i}ld Euroþe- The Carlovingiall
Emþirè-The Dullish ExpeditioJu ill the Cauls-Ami the: Establishment
of Rollo. Volume II. 77ze Threè .Fint Dukes of .l1/orJ/lll7zdy,. Rollo,
Guillaume LOllglle-Épt.!e, alld Richllnl Salls-Peur- The Carlo'Z..'iJlgÙlJl
line supplanted by the Cape/so Volume III. RÙ-hard Salls-Peur-
Richard Le-Bon-RÙ:hard II I.-Robert Le Di,lble- lVilliam the COIl-
queror. Volume [IT. lYillÙwz Rufus-AccessioJl oJ IIenry Beauclen-.

Pal grave (W. G.).-A NARRATIVE OF A YEAR'S
JOURNEY THROUGH CEXTRAL AXD EASTERX
ARABIA, 1862-3, By \YILLIAM GIFFORD PALGRA\'E, late of
the Eighth Regiment Bombay :N. 1. Fifth anù cheaper Edition.
\Vith :rvrap
, Plans, and Portrait of Author, en
raveù on steel by
J eens. Crown 8vo. 6s.

" COllsidc?rÙzg the e.xtäzt 0/ Ollr þrevióus ignorance, the tllllount of his
tldlÙvemt?nts, and thè importance oJ his contributions to our kmrwlt.llge, 'we
((limo! sa)' less 0/ him than ..vas once said of a far greatc:r discoverer. JIr.
I't.r1gro<. e has illdèecl giL'cn a new ,,-,orld to Europe." -1' ALL :\lALL GAZETTE.

. 16

GENER44L CA TALOGUE.

Parkes (HenrY).-AUSTRALTAN VIE\VS OF ENGLAND.
By HE
RY PARKES. Crown 8vo. cloth. 3s. 6d.

" The follo'wing ldters were written during a residolce ill England, ill
the years 1861 and 1862, and 'were þublÙhed in the" Sydney l\lorning-
Heralù" 01/ the arrival of the monthly JI/(lÍls . . . . On re-þerusal, these
letters aþþt:ar to contain views of E:,
(lish life and imþressions oJ English
notabilities which, as the Vle'"dJ.f llnd imþressions oJ all ,Englishman Oll h/.I'
retun" to his native cOllllby cljter all absence of twenty years, may not be
i.Vithollt interest to the E1lglish readt!r. The 'Lvriter had oþþortunities c:l
mixing with different classes of the British people, ami oJ hearinif" opinion.\"
Oil passing events from opþoJite standþoints of obsc17/atioll. "-A UTHOR'S
PREFACE.

Prichard.-THE AD:\IINISTRA TION OF IXDIA. From
1859 to 1868. The First Ten Years of Administration unùer the
Crown. By ILTUDUS TnO:\1AS PRICHARD, Barrister-at-Law.
Two vols. Demy 8vo. \\lith Map. 2 Is.

In these volumes the author has aimcd to sujJj!y a full, imþartial, ancl
ifldeþendt!11t account of British India he/ween 1859 alld 1868-which i.I'
Ùt many 1'esþccts the most imþortant eþOcll Ùl the history of that coun!;::'
which the þnsazt century has seell.

Ralegh.-THE LIFE OF SIR \VALTER RALEGH, based
upon Contemporary Documents. By EDWARD EDWARDS. T 0-
gether with Ralegh's Letters, now first collected. \Vith Portrait.
Two vols. 8vo. 32S.
"lJIr. Edwards has certainly writtell the Life of Rakglz from full",-
ÙzJörmatioll than any þrf!1/iolls bio....-raþhèr. IIe is intelligent, industrious.
symþathetic: and the world has '1/ his two volumes larger means afforded
it oJ knowing Rale/[h thall t.f ClH't" posse.rst.'C1 before. The new lettl'rs and
the 1lt.'Li..tlv-edite.l old ldkrs are Ùl tht'JJlselz't!s a bool/. "-PALL !\lALL
GAZETTE.

Robinson (Crabb).---UIARV, REMINISCENCES, ANn
CORRESPONDENCl<: OF HENRY CRABB ROßII\'"SON.
Selected and Edited by Dr. SADLER. \Vith Portrait. Second
EditIOll. Three \"ols. Svo. cloth. 3 6s .

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY,
TRA VELS. 17

.11Ir. Crabb Robinson's Diary extends over the greatt!r part oj three-
quarters of a celltlllJ/. It tWllaÙ1S persollal 1'el/lillisc
Jlas of SOlJl
of th

most distÙ
[[uished charac!èrs of that period, includillg Goethe, lVidalld, D,
QUillcey, IVordJlvorth ('itllth 'i
IhoJJl lIIr. Crabb Robinson 'ivas Oil terms oj
;:reat intimacy), ilIadillJle de Staél, Lafil}'ctte, Coleridge, Lamb, lIIilmall,
&c. &c.: aud indlult!s a 'i'tut 'l'arÍt:ty of subjects, politictll, literary, ecclesi-
astical, and lllist'ellaneolts.

Rogers (James E. Thorold).-HISTORIC.\L GLEAN-
INGS : A Series of Sketches. :Montague, \Yalpole, Adam Smith,
Cobbett. By Rev. J. E. T. ROGERS. Crown 8vo. 4J. 6d.
Professor Rogers's ob.J"':ct ill tll
flllo;vÙlg sketch
s is to prt!jC?llt a set 0/
historical facts, grouþed round a principal jig-ure. The eSSil}'S are ill th

jòrm of lectures.

HISTORICAL GLEAXIXGS. ^ Series of Sketches. By Rev.
J. E. 1'. RüGERS. Second Serie
. Crown 8vo. 6s.
A comþanioJ[ 'ilolulJle to the First Sä-ieS recelltly published. It cOlltain.r
þapers on 1 ViNif, Laud, 1 f''ïlkt!s, IIonle Tooke. In these lectures th

author has ailJwi tv state the social filets qf the time ill 'i.ohich the Ùldiz'idual
'iohose histmJ' is haJl{Il,
d took part ill public busilless.

Smith (Professor Gold win). - THREE EXGLISH
S1' A 1'ES
lEX: J>YM, CR01\I\YELL, PITT. A Course of
Lectures on the Political llistory of EngI3.nd. By GOLDWIN
S:\I1TH, 1\1.A. Extra fcap. 8vo. New and Cheaper Edition. 5s.
"A work 'Which 1leither histvrian 1/01' joliticÙm call stlfc:l)' afford I()
neglect."-SATURDAY REnEw.

SYSTEMS OF LA-XU TENURE IX \
\RIOUS COC:\TRIES.
A Series of Essays published under the sanction of the C01H)E

CLUB. Demy 8vo. Second Edition. I2.\'.
The subjects treaft'd arc:-I. 7't:nure of Land in Irdtllld
. z. Land
La'Llls of Englaud
' 3. Tellltr
of Land ill Illdia
' 4. Laud System f!l
B
!gillm and I/ollalld
' 5.
19rariall Lc'gislatioll of Prussia durillg thi.
Present Cellfitl')'; 6. Land Sj'ställ f!f Frana
' 7. RllJ'si(lIl Agrarian
Legislatioll oj 1861
' S. FarlJl Land alld Lalld Lll'i
Is 0/ the [ili/ed
Sill It's.

J)

18

GF:J.\'ERAL CA l'rlLOGUE.

Tacitus.-TIIE HISTORY OF TACITUS, translated into
English. By A. J. CHURCH, ßL A. and 'V. J. BRODRIBB, 1\1.
\.
'Vith a 1\fap and Notes. 8vo. 10S. 6d.
The translators haz/e endeavoured to adhere as closely to the origillal a"
was thought cOllsistellt 'with a proper observance of English idiom. At
the same time it has been their aim to reproduce the precise expressions 0}
the author. This 'work is laracterised b;' the Spectator as "a scholarly
alld faìtliful translation."

TilE AGRICOLA AND GER1\IANIA. Translated into English by
A. J. CHURCH, 1\1.A. and 'V. J. BROlJRIllß, 1\LA\' 'Yith :\Iaps
and Notes. Extra fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d.
The translators have sought to þroducc suoí a 'Z'ersioll ao! 1Jlay satisfi.'
scholars who demand a faithful rendering of the original, and English
nadel's 'Zvho are offellded by the baldness and frigidity 'which commollly
disfigure trallslatiolls. The treatises are accomþanied by illtroductiolls.
notes, maps, aml a chronological summary. The Athenæum sa)'s {l
this work tltat it is " a versioll at once readable and
xact, 'li.Jhiclt may be
perused 'loith pleasllre by all, and consulted 'with ad'Z'alltage by the clasJ'Ïcal
student. "

Taylor (Rev. Isaa
).-'YORDS AXD PLACES; or
Etymological Illustrations of History, Etymology, and Geography.
By the Rev. ISAAC TAYLOR. Second Edition. Crown 8\"0.
12s. 6d.

"11Ir. Taylor has produced a really useful boo!..', and one 'lvhich stallds
alone ill our lallguage. "-SATURDAY RE\"IE\\'.

Trench (Archbishop).-GUST
\ VUS ADOLPHUS: Social
Aspects of the Thirty Year')' "Tar. By R. CIIENEVIX TRENCH,
D.D., Archbishop of Dublin. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d.
" CIL'ar aml II/rid ill style, these lectl/rès will be a treasure to many I.
'whom the subiect is lt1lfil1Jliliar."-DunLl
EVEr\IXG
L\IL.

Trench (Mrs. R.).-Edited by ARCHBISHOP TRENCH. Remai]'!j
of the late :\fRS. RICHARD TREN ClI. Being Selections from
her Journals, Letters, anù other Papers. New and Cheaper Is
u<:,
with Portrait, 8vo. 6...

HIS TOR J
BIOGRAPHY,
TRA rELS. 19

Contains notices and anecdotes illl/strating the social life 0/ the period
-extending over a quarter of a celltm)' (1799-1827). It includes also
poems alld other miscellaneotls pieces ll)' lib's. Trench.

Trench (Capt. F., F.R.G.S.).-THE RUSSO-IXDIAN
QUESTION', Historically, Strategically, and Politically con-
sidered. By Capt. TREXCH, F. R, G. S. \Vith a Sketch of Central
Asiatic Politics and l\Iap of Central Asia. Crmyn 8\"0. 7s. 6d.
" The Russo-Indian, or Central Asian question has for several obvious
1-eaSOllS bccn attracting 1Jluch public attentioll in Ellgi"and, ill Russia, and
also OIl the Contiuent, 'i.oithill the last )'ear or two. . . . I have thought
that the present vr>lumc, gi7JÙzg a short sketch 0/ the histor)' 0/ this question
from its earliest origin, and condensing 1Jluch if the most recent alfd ÍJzte-
1'estiug information Oil the sul:.jecf, and 011 its collateral phases, might
þerhaþs be aaptable to those 'ii'ho take all interest in it. "-AUTHOR'S
P REF ACE.

Trevelyan (G.O., M.P.).-C'A\VNPORE. Illustrated with
Plan. By G. O. TREYELYA
, :l\I.P., Author of "The Com-
petition \Yallah." Second Edition. Crown 8\'0. 6s.
"ill this book we are 110t sþared one fact of the sad stewy 7. but OllY
feelings m"e 110t harr07(1cd b)' the recital of illlagÙzaJ)' outrages. It is
good for us at home that we haL'e Olle 'who tc?lls his tale so 'ir.}ell as does
J1fr. 71
et:'e0'all." - PALL :l\IALL GAZETTE.

TIlE CO
IPETITIOX \V ALLAH. New Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s.
" The earlier lettcrs m'e esþecial0' interesting for their 1'acy descriptions
of Euroþean life ill India. . . . . Those that foll(Tt.1J are 0/ more serious
imþort, seeking to tell the truth about the IIÙzdoo character al1d English
illfluences, good and bad, upon it, as 'well as to sllggest some better coursc of
treatment than that hitherto adoþted."-ExAl\IINER.

Vaughan (late Rev. Dr. Robert, of the British
QuarterlY).-l\IE:\IOIR OF ROBERT A VAUGHAN.
Author of "I-lours with the :\Tystics." By ROBERT VAUGHAN,
D. D. Second Edition, revised and enlarged. Extra fcap. 8vo. 5 s .
" It deserves a þlace on the same shelf 'ivith Stanley's 'Life of A 1"1lOld,'
and Carl,)'le's 'Stirling.' Dr. Tãuglwll has þerjòrmed his þaÙiful but
1Z?t all unþleasing task 'With exquisit{' good taste and fidíng."-NoNCOX-
FØRMIST.

11 2

20

GENERAL CA1:-1LOCUE.

'.Vagner.-
IE
10JR OF TIlE REV. GEORGE 'Y AGXER,
1\I.A., late Incumbent of St. Stephen's Church, Brighton. By the
Rev. J. N. SDIPKIr\SON, 1\1.A. Third and Cheaper Edition, cor-
rected and abridged. Ss.
"A more edifyilll[ biograþhy Zì..'e have rardr md 'ii.,ith."-LITERARY
CHURCIßJAN. .

\Vallace.-TIIE 1\IALA Y ARCIlIPEL
\CO: the Land of the
Orang Utan and the Bird of raradise, A Karrative of Travel
with Studies of l\lan and :J'\ature. By ALFRED Rt"SSEL \\TALLACE.
'Vith 1\Iaps and Illustrations. Second Edition. Two vols. crown
8vo. 2-1-S.

"A careful(J' and r!dibt!ratdy comþosed 1larnl!Í'lIc!. . . . TVe adz'Ùe
otlr readä's to do as 7iJe Illlve done, 1"ead his bo(}k thrvugh."-TDJES.

Ward (Professor).- THE HOUSE OF ...\USTI{I '\ IN THE
THIRTY YEARS' \Y AR. Two Lectures, ,"ith Notes and Illus-
trations. Ðy ADOLPHUS ,Yo 'VARD, 1\1...\., Professor of History
in Owens College, 1\lanchester. Extra fcap. 8\'0. 2.f. 6d.
" It:ry compact and iJlstructi7.!t'. "-FORT!\I<
IlTLY RE\ïEW.

Warren.-A}; ESSAY ON GREEK FEDERAL COIKAGE.
By the lIon. J. LEICESTER 'YARREN, :ßl.A. 8vo. 2S. 6d.
" The þresent essay is an attemþt to illustrate .ilIr. .F'reclIlall's Federal
Governmellt by ez'idälce &.,fuced from th
("village {If the time-'s and coullf1'ies
therein treatt.:d lj:.'--PREFACE.

Wilson.-A 1\IEl\10IR OF GEOH..GE '\"ILSO
, 1\1. D.,
F.R.S. E., Regius Professor of Technology in the Univcrsity of
Edinburgh. By his SISTER. Kew Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s.
" All exquisite and touchÍ1zg þortrait 0/ a 1Clre ami bt.'llUtifitl sjirit."-
GUARDIA
.

Wilson (Daniel, LL.D.).-IIREIIlSTOH.IC ANNALS
OF SCOTLAND. By DANIEL 'VILSO
, LL.D., Professor of
History and English Literature in University College, Toronto.
1\" ew Edition, ,\ ith numerous Illustrations. Two \"ols. demy
8\'0. 36s.

11lSTUR Y, BJOGRAP11Y,
TR..-l VE'LS. 21

This elaborate alld learlled work is diz.'idcd illto four Parts. Pürt I.
dt!als with The Primeval or Stone Period: Aboriginal Traces, Sepulchral
JIc:morials, DZiJellillg.r, alld Catacombs, Temþles, 1Veal'ons, 07c' {;,--=c.;
Part lI., The Bronze Period: The ,jl/äallurgic Tra , nsitioll Pril1liti-i.'e
Brollze, Personal Ornaments, Religion, Arts, and Domestic IIabits, 'å,ith
(,
other toPics; Part III., The Iron Period: The Introduction if Iron, The
Roman bl'i'asioll, Strongholds, 6--'C.
c.
' Part IV., The Christian Period:
.llisloriml DaM, the j\"orrie's Law Rdic.r, PrimitÍL'e and J.IIîdiæl'al
EcclesiologJ', Ecclt!siastiml and 11Iiscellallcous A lltiquities. Th.: work is
furllished'iâth an elaborate Illlkx.

PREHISTORIC
IA
. X ew Edition, revised and partly re-written,
with numerous Illustrations. One vol. 8vo. 2 IS.
This 'it!or/:, (ohich Cil1TÙS out the þriJlcifle 0/ the þreceding one, but (oith
a wider scope, aims 10 "'lÙ'iU JIall, as far as þossible, mwffä"oted by thost!
modifying injluences (uhich a",-{:olllþtlllY the dt'l'eloþment of natiolls and the
maturity of II true historic þeriod, Ùl on!tr then-by to ascertain the sources
from whellce'such develoþment and maturity þroceed." It cOlltains, jor
example, chaþters Oil the .Primtê)al Trallsitioll
' Speech
' JIetals; the
.llfoztlld-Builders; Przilliti'Z'e
lrchi/ectl/re
' lhe
ll1lcricall 7)'pe; the Red
Blood of the lVest, &c. G'""'c.

ClL\. TTERTO:N: ...\ Biographical Study. By D.\:'\IEL \VILSOX,
LL.D., Professor of History and English Literature in eniversity
College, Toronto. Crown 8\"0. 6s. 6d.
T/ze Author here r
'gards Chatkrtoll as a Pod, /lot as a "illiTe 1'esettèr
and dtj-èlcer of stolt'll literary trt!llsw't!S." Rez.'iez.ù'd ill this light, he has
foulld much ill thi? old materials caþable of being tUr/it'd to 1U?l.J account.-
and to t/zese materials res.:arch ill 'Z'llrious dirt'ctiollS has L'lZabkd him to
JJla/..,,' sOllle additiolls.

SECTION II.

POETRY AND BELLES LETTRES.

Allingham.-LAURENCE I3LOO:\IFIELD I
IREL..\ND;
or, the New Landlord. By '\VILLIAM ALLINGH.UI. New and
Cheaper Issue, with a Preface. Fcap. 8vo. cloth, 4S. 6d.
III the new Preface, the state of Ireland, 'with sþaial refi:rence to tht'
Church measure, is discussed.
" It is vital 'with the 'natiollal character. . . . It has something of POþe's
point and Goldsmith's simplicit)', touched to (t lJ/ore I'loderll issue."--
ATHENÆU.:\I.

Arnold (Matthew).-POE
IS.
Two vols. Extra fcap. 8vo. cloth. I2S.
each.

By
IATTHEw ARNOLD.
.\lso solù separately at 6s.

Volume I. cOlltains NarratÍ7/e aml Elegiac P'XlJ/S
' Volz!me 1 I. Dra-
matic and Lyric POc!lIlS. The t'lUO 'Z'olumes comþrehend the First and
Second Series of the Poems, alld the i\ .cw Poems.

NE\V POEMS. EÀtra fcap. 8vo. 6s.6d.
III this volume will befound"'Elllþedoc!ès Oil Etlltl,."" Thyrsis" (7.tJritten
ill commemoration of the late Professor Clough)
' "EPilogue to Lessing's
Laocoó'll
'" "lieine's Grave
'" "Oberlllallll once more." All thest?
þoems are also included in the Editioll (t:oo vols.) above-mentiolled.

ESS..\ YS I
CRITICIS::\I. Xew Edition, \\Ìth Additions. Extra
fcap. 8vo. 6s.
CONTENTS :-Priface
' The Functioll of Criticism at the Jresent time
'
The Li!t!rmy Influolcc of Acadtlnies
'
lltlllrice de Gucrin; Eugcnie
de Guerin; .lft.:inrich Heine; Pagan and ...lIc.dia'Z'al Rdigiclis Sentimcnt:
Joubt'rt; Spilloza tmd the Bible
' JIaulIs "'/ /lrdil/s. J

PO.A'TRV 6-.3 BELLES LETTRES.

3

Arnold (Matthew) (coJttimled)-
_\SPRO:\IOXTE, AXD OTHER POE:\IS. Fcap. 8\'0. cloth
extra. 4S. 6d.
COXTEKTS :-Fo(,lIls fi}r Ita
1'
. Dramatic LyrÙ.s
' ,i1/iscel!alleolls.
"U1lC01llmOIl lJ'rica! fmi'lT alld dúþ Pl}dic kdillg:" -LITERARY
CIIURCH
IAX.

Barnes (Rev. W.).-POE
rs OF RlJIL\L LIFE IN' COM-
MOX EKGLI::,II. l;y the H.LY. \Y. HARXI:S, Author of
" Poems ûf Rural Life in the Dor
et Dialect." Feap. 8\'0. 6s.
" In a high dt'gree pleasant and 1/O'Z:el. The book is 1J)' 1/0 means 01/t

,!hich the loz.'crs of dl'scri.ftl.'c /0(/1)' call a.!lòrd to INC. "-ATlIEr\ÆUM.

Bel1.-RO:\L\KCES AXD MIKOR rOE
l S. l
y BE
RY
GLASSFORD DELL. Fcap. 8\"0. 6s.
" Full of life alld gcnius."-CÜl'RT CWCULAR.

Besant.-STl"J >IES 1K EAH.L Y FRE::\CH POETRY. By
".ALTER HEsA:\T, M.A. Crown. 8\"0. Ss.6d.
A sort of illlfréssion rests Oil most minds that Frcllch literatzne begins

,'ith the "siècle de LOllis Q[{attJr
e;" an)' prez'iol/s literatm-e being for
the 1I/ost jart l{n/mØLtm or ignored. Ft'w /.:1l0'W anything of the enormous
'iterarJ' actÙ,ity that be-:gall ill the thirtl'olth eent"r)', 'was carried on by
Rulc:belif, 1I1arie de FI allee, Gaston de ,F'oix, Thibault de Chamþagnc,
.wd Lon-is
' 'Zi!US foslt:rt'd by Charles of Orlealls, by ,llIargaret of ralois,
!'Y Francis tllc First
. that ga'i/e a crml.'t! of 'Z'ersifiers to ,Frallce, enriched,
trellgthelled, dc;oz'eloped, and fixed the Fn'Jlch lallguage, and þrcþared the
;uay for Cor1/eille alld for Racille. The þrest1l! 'i.t}01-k aims to offord
illformatioll alld direction touchillg the {arty I'ßvrts of France ill þodical
likrature.
" III ONe moderately si:;ed '(:oll/me he has cOlltrl'i'ed to introduce us to the
-'e1J' best, if ?lot to all of the early Frcllchþoets. "-ATHEi\ÆU
I.

3radshaw.-A
ATTE:\IPT TO ...\SCERTAIX THE STATE
OF CHAUCER'S 'YORKS, AS THEY "'ERE LEFT AT
HIS DEATH. 'Yith some
otes of their Subsequent History.
By HE
RY BRADSH.\W, of K.ing's College, and the University
Library, Cambridge. In the Press.

2+

GJ
.LVERAL CA T.ALOGUJ..:.

Brimley.- ESS.\ YS BV TIlE L
\ TE GEORGE BRL\ILEY.
:\1. ...\. Edited by the Rev. \Y. G. CL.\RK, :\1. A. \Vith Portrait.
Cheaper Edition. . Fcap. 8"0. 3s. 6d.

Essays Oil litermy topic.r, such as Tt:Jlll)'SOJt'S "Poems," Carlyle's
"Lift of Stirling," "Bleak House," &c., 1C'jwilltt!d from Fraser, tit,:
Spectator, and like þeriodÙals.

Broome.-TIIE STIL\XGER OF SERIPIIOS. A Dramatic
Poem. By FREDEP.ICK NAPIER BROO:\IE. Fcap. 8vo. Ss.
Fo2tJuied Oil tlte Greek legelld 0/ Danae aud Pt7'Seus.
"Grace and beaut)' 0/ eXþressioll ar

lfr. B1'oom/s charackristics
'
alld these qualities are dÙþla)'ed ill mall)' þassages." -A TIIE
Æe::\I.

Church (A. J .).-IIOR
E TEXXYSOXL\X E, Siye EcIogæ
e Tennysono Latine redditæ. Cura A. J. CHL'RCH, A.:t\J.
Extra fcap. 8\'0. 6s.
Latin 7.1ersions of Sekdiolls from Tenll)'son. Among tlte authors arc
the Editor, the lat,: Professor Coning/on, Prifessor SeelC)', Dr. Ht'ssC)',
111r. J("ebbel, and other gentlemen.

Clough (Arthur Hugh).-TIIE POE:\lS A
D PROSE
RE:\lAI
S OF ARTHUR neGII CLOUGH. \Vith a
Selection from his Letters and a :l\Iemoir. Edited by his \Vife.
vVith Portrait. Two vols. crown 8\"0. 2IS. Or Poems sepa-
rately, as below.
The late Profissor Clough is 7.uell kJlo'wll as a graceful, tcuder þoel,
tl1ld as the scholarly traw/ator of Plutarch. The letters þossess high
i llterest, not biographical o;d)', but litera1J,-discllssiJlg, as they do, the
most important questiOllf of the time, ahc!a)'s in a genial sþirit. The
" Remains" include þapers Dll " Retrellcltment at Oxford
'" on Professor
R IY. Newman's book" The Soul
'" Oil JVordS'lvorth
' Oil the Formatioll
of Classical English
' Oil ,çome .Afoderll Poems (JIatthew Anl{lld awl the
late A Il'xG.'lder Smith), &c. (;.-:Jc.

THE POE:\IS OF ARTHUR lIUGH CLOUGH, sometime FeUow
of Oriel College, Oxford. \Yith a :ì\Iemoir by F. T. P ALGRA YF.
Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 6.ç.

POL:.: ill' Y
Bl:.:LLA.S L
' TTR1:'S.

')-
-)

"From the higher lIlim/ if cultiz'ated, all-questicmillg, but still cOlls
r-
'l.'atiL.'e England, in this our þu=zled !:elleration, 'iee d(J '1l(lt kno'lv of all}'
utterana in literature so characteristic as the þoems of Arthur Hugh
Clough."-FRASER'S :\IAGAZI
E.

Dante.-D
\XTE'S CO:\IEDY, THE HELL. Translated by
\V. :\1. ROSSETTI. Feap, 8vo. cloth. ss.
" The aim of this trans/atllln of Dante may be sll111lllt'd up in one'i('or"
-Literality. . . . To jòllO'iv Dante sentence for selltellce, line for line,
'i{lord for 'ivord-neither more 1101' less-has been 111Y strðlUOUS endem'our. "
-AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

De V ere.- THE IXFAXT BRIDAL, and other Poems. By
AUBREY DE YERE. Fear, 8\'0. 7S. 6d.
".1JIr. De Vere has taken his þlace among the þoets 0/ the day. Pure
aJld tender fte_Ílzg, and that þolisht'd restraint of style 'i.l,hÙ-h is called
classical, are the clzarms of the 'lIolulIle."-SPECTATOR.

Doyle (Sir F. H.).-\Vorks by Sir FR.\NCIS HASTI:'\GS DOYLE,
Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford :-

THE RETURX OF THE GUARDS, ..\XD OTHER POE:\IS.
Feap. 8vo. 7s.
" Good wille 1leeds 1/0 blish, nor good '(}t'rse a preface
' and Sir Francis
Doyle's verses rzm bright and clear, and smack oj a classic vintage. . . .
His chief characteristic, as it is /Ûs greatest charm, is the simPle manliness
which gives force to all he 'li,lrites. It is a cha-rac!eristic ill these da)'s rare
enou.gh. "-EXA
IIXER.

LECTURES O
POETRY, delh-ered before the University of
Oxford in 1868. Crown 8\'0. 3s. 6d.
THREE LECTURES :-(1) Inaugural; (2) Pro'(}incial Poetry; (3) Dr
Nt!Wman's "Dream of Gerontius."
"Full of thoughtful discrimination and fine insight: the lecture on
, PrO'llincial Poetry' seems to us singularly true, eloquent, alld Íl/strucfiz'e."
-SPECTATOR.

EvanS.-BROTHER FABIAX'S l\IAXUSCRIPT, AKD
OTHER POE:\IS. By SEBASTIA
EVAXS. Feap. 8vo. cloth.
6s.

::!6

Gr:1\

'RAL CATALOGUE.

" In this '(}olume 'é.l'e ha'lIc full assurance that he has' the 'lJisioll aud th

(acult)' dÙJÙle.' . . . Clez'er and full of kindl)' hU1Jlotlr."-GLOBE.

Furnivall.-LE :l\IORTE D' ARTHUR. Edited from the Harldan
:l\I. S. 2252, in the British 11useum. By F. J. FUR
IV ALL, 1\1. A.
\Yith Essay by the lale HERBERT COLERIDGE. Feap. 8vo. 7 s . 6d .

Looking to the inte.'-est shoWIl by so. man)' thousands inllIr. Täl1l)'SOlZ'S
A rthuriaJl þoems, the editor and þllblishers hm.'e thought that the old
'Z'ersioll Lllould þossess considerable interest. It is a reprint of the celt!brated
IIarleiall copy
. and is accomþanied by illdex and glossal)'.

Garnett.-IDYLLS AND EPIGRAl\IS. Chiefly fro111 the Greek
Anthology. By RICHARD GAR:r\ETT. Feap. 8\'0. 2s. 6d.

"A charming little bool.:. pòr .Ellglish rt..'adc:rs, JIr. Garnett's transla-
latiolls will oþell a llew world of thought."- 'YEsTMI:\STER REYIEW.

G UESSES AT TR UTII. 13y Two 13ROTIIERS. 'Yith Yignette,
Title, and Frontispiece. Kew Edition, with 1\lemoir. Fcap. 8vo. 6s.

" The following )'mr 'é.oas memorable for the COlllmellcemellt oj the
, GUt'sses at Truth.' IIe and his Oxford brother, lit/Í11g as they did ill
constallt and free interchange of thought 0/1. qut!stiolls of Philosoþh)' and
literature and art
. delighting, cadl of them, in the eþigrammatic terseness
which is the charm of the' .Pcns/cs' of Past"al, and the' CaracÛres' of La
Brz0'ère-agrecd to utter themselves ill this form, alld the book apþ.:ared,
allo11}'JIlously, ill two volumes, Ùl 1827."-
IE
IOIR.

Hamerton.-A P.\IKTFR.S C..\l\IP. By PHILIP GILBERT
IIA:\IERTO
. Second Edition, revised. Extra fcap. S,'o. 6s.

BOOK I. ill England; BOOK II. III Scotlll/ld
. BOOK III. III France.
This is the St01:1' of all .Artist's èncalllþlllt.'!lts and ad,(/Clltures. The
headings if a. few chaþters may serve to COIl'l'eya /lotioll of the ckzracter
(1 the book: A IValk Oil the Lancashire JIoors,. tht: Author his lTvJll
HOl/sekeeþer alld Cook; Tc:nts and Boats for the Highlll!lds; The Author
,'ncamþs Oil all lInillhabikd Island
. A Lake Vo)'age
' ..:1. Giþsy Journey
/(J Glen Coe; Concerning JIoonlight and Old Castles
. A little French
ri
v : A Farm ill the AlltllllOis, G
l'.
-..:Jc.

POETRY &-' BELLES LE'TTRES.

'27

" IIi"s þages sparkle 'ùJi!ll happy turlls oj expressioll, not a fe--w well-told
'l1lecdo!c!s, and mallY obserz:ations which are the fruit of attentive study a1ld
,-(lise reflection Oil the cO/l/þlicated phellomena of hU/IlaJl life, as ü'ell as 0/
ullconsciolls llature."- '\VEST
ln'STER REVIEW.

ETCHIXG AXD ETCHERS. A Tr
atise Critical and Practical.
By P. G. HA
IERTOX. \\ïth Original Plates by RE:\IBR.\.
DT,
CALLOT, DUJARDI
, PAUL POTTER, &c. Royal 8vo. Half
morocco. 3Is. 6d.

" It is a í.iJorl
of 'which author, prilllc!r, and þublisher may alike þ:d
proud. It is a 'iiJork, too, of 'ltJhic/l 1lone but a genuine artist could by pos-
Úbility have beell the allltÍor."-SATURDAY REVIEW.

Herschel.-THE ILIAD OF HO:\IER. Translated into English
Hexameters. Dy Sir J OH
HERSCHEL, Bart. 8vo. 18s.
A versioll of the Iliad ill Ellglish Hexameters. The questioll of IIomcric
trallslatioll is fully discussäl ill the Prijace.
"It is admirable, not Ollly for /Ilany illtrmslc merits, but as a gn
(l
JIlllll'S tribute to Genius. "-ILLUSTR.\T.ED LOXDON NEWS.

IlL\. TUS: the Void in :\Iodem Education. Its Cause and .\ntidote.
By OUTIS. 8vo. 8s. 6d.
The main object of this Essay is to þoint out hcrw the emotional element
,-tJhich undc!rlies the Fine Arts is disregclrded and undeveloþe:d at this time
so far as (despite a" pretence at filling it uþ) to constitute an Educational
Hiatus.

HY
l
I ECCLESLE. See" THEOLOGICAL SECTIOX."

KennedY.-LEGENDARY FICTIOXS OF THE IRISH
CELTS. Collected and Karrated by PATRICK KE
XEDY. Crown
8vo. "
ith Two Illustrations. 7s. 6d.
"A <.'ery admirable! popular selection of the Irish (airy stories and lr:gt:Jlds,
in 'Which those'i<-,ho are familiar 'itJltll ,1Ir. Croker's, alld oIlier sdections
lif the same kind, ü 1 ll1 find much that is fresh, and full of the: fecultar
vlz'acity and hUlJlour, and sOlJldilllèS f?Z'e/l lif the ÙÙal bellut)', of the true
Celtic L
gelld." -S PECT A TOR.

28

GEfi.rER.AL CATALOGúTE.

Kingsley (Canon).-See also" IlI"TORIC SECTIU
," "\VORKS
OF FICTIO
," and" PHII.OSOPHY ;" al.fo "J UYEXILE BOOKS,"
and" THEOLOGY."

TIlE SAINTS' TRACEDY: or, The True Story of Elizabeth of
Hungary. By the Rev. CHARLES KIXGSLEY. \\'ith a Preface by
the Rev. F. D.
L\U'RICE. Third Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5 s .
..\XDROßIED..\, AND OTHER POE:\IS. Third Edition. Fcap.
8\"0. 5s.
PIIAETHON; or, Loose Thoughts for Loose Thinkers. Third
Edition. Crown 8vo. 2S.

Kingsley (HenrY).-S'c>e "\YORKS OF FICTIO
."

Lowell (Professor).-.\:\IOXG- :\IY BOOKS. Six Essay:;.
Dy JA:\IES RUSSELL LOWELL, :\1..-\., Professor of Delles Lcttre:;
in Harvard College. Crown 8"0. 7s. 6d.
Six Essays: Dryden; Uí."tchcraft
. Shal..>csþeare Once JIore
' l\Te-;{)
England Two Centuries a
l}; Lrssing
' ROl/sst'lllt and the Senti-
mentalists.

UNDER THE \YILLO\YS, AND OTHER POE
IS. By JA
lES
RUSSELL LOWELL. Fcap. 8vo. 6s.
"Under the \Villows is one 0/ the //lost admirable bits if id)'llic 'work.
short as it is, or þerhaþs because it is short, that htl'i'e beell done ill our gCJlt"-
ration."-SATURDAY REYIEW.

Masson (Professor).-ESSA YS, nIOGR.\PlIIC.\L ANIJ
CRITICAL. Chiefly on the British Poets. By D.\YID MASSON,
LL.D., Professor of Rhetùric in the U nÍ\'ersity of Edinburgh.
8vo. 12s. 6d.
" DistÙzfllishcd by a rt
JJlarl..'able þo'wcr if anal)'sis, a f.-"lear statcment
if the actl/al facts Oil which sþcculation is based, alld all aþþroþriatc
beauty 0/ Language. These essa)'s should be þoþular 'Lt1ith serious men."-
_\THENÆUM.

BRITISH XOVELISTS AXD THEIR STYLES. Being a Critical
Sketch of the History of British Prose Fiction. Cro\\ n 8vo. 7 s . 6d .
" 'tãluable for its lucid analysis of fundamental þrinciples, its breadtll
of z'Ù;w, and sustained animatio/l of style. "-SPECTATOR.

PO
'TRY
BELLES LETTRES.

29

Masson (Professor) (cvlltÙllled)-

IRS. JERKIXGnA
I'S J017RXAL. Second Edition. Extra fcap.
Svo. 3s. 6d. A Poem of the boudoir or domestic cla')s, purporting
to be the journal of a newly-married lady.
" Olle quality ill the þit'ce, su'//Ù.-iellt oj itselj to claim a moment's allL-'1l.
.'iOIl, is that it is unique-vrigÙzal, Ùzdeä{, is 110t too strollg a 'lu01-d--ill
he manner of its cOllctptivll alld exccutivll." -P ALL
rALI. G.-\ZETTE.

Mistral (F .).- :\IIRELLE: a Pastoral Epic of PrO\"ence. Trans-
lated by II. CRICIITOX. Extra fcap. 8vo. 6s.

" This is a caþital translatio/l of the elegaJit and richly-colollred þastoral
fþic þoem of JI. .11Iistral 'iohich, ill 1859, he dedicated ill enthusiastÙ:
.'t!1'IIlS to Lamartine. . . . . . It 'ii'vuld be hard tv o'l!crþraist' the
së.i'eebzess alld þlèasillg freshness of this charming epic. "-A THE
ÆU
I.

Myers (Ernest).-TIIE PURIT..\XS. Dy ERXEST 1IYERs.
Extra fcap. 8vo. cloth. 2s. 6d.

" It is 110t too much to call it a 1'eally gralld þOt:m, stately ami dt/[lIified,
,uzd shO'"d/Ùzg 110t only a high þoetic mind, ÌJut also great þO'Zi!Cr wer poetic
<'\þressioll."-LITERARY CHURCH:\IA
. ..

TJIyers (F. W. H.).-Poems. Dy F. 'v. II, 1IYERs. Extra
fcap.8vo. 4->.6d. Containing '
ST. PAUL," "
t. JOIlX," and
other Poems.

.

N ettleship. - ESS.-\ YS OX ROBERT 1JRO\YNIXG'S
POETRY. 1Jy J 0I1
T. XET fI.ESIIIP. Extra fcap. 8\"0. 6.<'. 6d.

NoeL-BE.\. TRICE, AXD OTHER POE)'l
. Dy the lIon.
RODE
X OLL. Fcap. 8vo. 6s.

u Be.1trice is ill meW)' n
sþècts a llvble þoem.. it di.r/,/a)'s tl s/,/elldour
1'./ landscaþe þt1Ínting, tl strong definite þrecÙÙ 1 1l of high(t.-Ct,7(mred de.;(.-rz
l}-
lion, 7..!hich has IlL]t oftell br:oz sllrj>assèd. "-l'ALI. :\l.\I.L G.\ZETTE.

3 0

GE.f\/ERAL CA T ALOGUE.

N orton.-THE LADY OF LA GARA YE. By the Box. l\IRs.
NORTON. \Vith Vignette and Frontispiece. Sixth Edition.
Fcap. 8vo. 4S. 6d.
" There is 1/0 lack 0/ vigour, 110 faltering of þo'wer, þlenty of þassio1/,
much bright description, 1/luch 1JlusicaI7./erse. . . . Full of thoughts 'well.
('xpnssed, and may be classed among her best 'Lvorks."-TDIES.
.

Orwell.-THE BISnOp'S \YALK AKD THE BISHOP'S
TIMES. Poems on the days of Archbishop Leighton and th("
Scottish Covenant. By ORWELL. Fcap. 8'-0. Ss.
" Pure taste and faultless þrecisio1l of la 1lgllll,fe, the fruits oj deeþ though t,
insight into humall nature, a1ld live!)' s)'l//þathy. "-N ONCO
FORMIST.

Palgrave (Francis T. ).- ESSA YS O
ART. By FRANCIS
TrRNER PALGRAYE, l\LA., late Fellow of Exeter College,
Oxford. Extra fcap. 8vo. 6s.
lIJulrt?ad;'-Dyce-I-EollJ/an IIullt-IIe} bed-Pod})', Prose, ami St!ll-
sationalism ill Art-Sculpture ill England-TIle Albert Cross, &c.

SHAKESPEARE'S SONNETS AXD SOKGS. Edited by F. T.
PALGRAVE. Gem Edition. \Yith Vignette Title by]EEI\'s. 3 s . 6d .
"For minute elegance 1/0 'l,ollime could þossibly excel the 'Gem
Edition.' "-SCOTSMAi'.

Patmore.-\Vorks by COVEXTRY PATMORE :-
TIlE ANGEL IN TIlE I-IODSE.
BOOK 1. The Betrothal
. BOOK II. The Esþousals
' BOOK III.
Fmt/iful for Ever. T-Vith Tamel ton Church Tower. Two vols. Fcaþ.
Svo. I2s.
'*.,.'* A New and.Cheaþ Edition in 01/t 'L'ol. I8mo., beautifully þrinted
(J11 toned paþer, þrice 2S. 6d.
THE VICTORIES OF LOVE. Fcap. 8\'0. 4J'. 6d.
The intrinsic merit of his þoem 7J..I/'11 secure it a þerma1lent þlace ill
literature. . . . Afr. Patmore has ful!)' earned a þlace ill the cataloguc
of þoets by th
finished idealization of domestic lijè." -SATURDAY
REVIEW.

POETRY 0,-'BELLES LETTRES. 3 1

Pember (E. H.).-THE TRAGEDY OF LESBOS. A
Dramatic Poem. By E. II PE:\IBER. Feap. 8\'0. 4S. 6d.
Founded uþoll the stO})' (if SaPþho.

Rossetti.-,y orks by CHRISTIXA ROSSETTI:-
GOBLIX
rARKET, AND OTHER POE
rS. 'Yith two Designs
by D. G. ROSSETTI. Second Edition. Feap. 8vo. 5s.
"She halldles her little JJlalt/el'luith that rare þt 1 dic discriminatioll 'if.'hich
"either exhausts it of its simPl1! 'l,-,olltlt?rs b)' pushing s)'mbolislll 1M far, 1lor
keeps those 'wonders ill the merely fabulous and capricious stage. III fact
she lias þroduced a true children's þoem, 'li:Jhich is far more dtlighiful tt}
the mature thall 10 children, though it 'l,-,ou!d be ddighiful to all."-
SPECTATOR.

THE PRIXCE'S PROGRESS, AND OTHER rOE
IS. \\'lth
two Designs by D. G. ROSSETTI. Feap. 8\"0. 6s.
"ilIiss Rossetti's þoems are of thl! kind 'ii.'hich rccails Shelley's difinitioll
(!I Poel1y as thl! record of the bt'st and happiest moments of the bè,rt and
haÞPiest minds. . . . They are like the þiþin.:( of a bird Oil the sþray Íil
the sU1lshine, or the quaint sillging 'lúitlt 'It}hich II child amuses its!!!f'it'hell
it forgets that an)'body is listenin,!{." -SXfCRD.\ Y REYIEW.

Rossetti (W. M.).-D
\XTE'S HELL. See" D_\
TE."
FIXE ART, chiefly Contemporary. By "-ILLLDI
I. ROSSETTI.
Crown 8vo. lOSe 6d.

This volume consists of Criticism on Contemþormy Art, reprinted frolll
Fraser, The Saturday Review, The PaIt
Iall Gazette, and other þub-
lleatiolls.

RobY.-STORY OF
\ HOUSEHOLD, _\XD OTHER rOE
IS.
By
IARY K. ROBY. Feap. 8vo. Ss.

Shairp (Principal).-KIL
L\IIOE, a IIighland Pastoral, with
other Poems. By J OH
C.A:\IPBELL SH.\IRP. Feap. 8vo. Ss.
" Kilmahoe is a Highland Pastoral, 1edolent if thl! warm soft air of
the TVestenl Lochs and ,JIoors, sketcht'.l out 'ii. ith rClIlcl rlable grace and pÙ:-
tU1"tsquelless. "-SATFRD.\Y REYIEW.

3::

GEl\'ERAL C
lT
lLOGL'E.

Smith.-\Yorks by ALEXAXDER S
ILTH :-

\ LIFE DR.A
IA, A?\V OTHER rOE:\IS. Fcap. 8\"0. 2s. 6d.
CITY rOE
IS. Fcap. 8vo. 5.1'.
ED\\ïX OF DEIRA. Second Edition. Fcap. 8\'0. 5s.
"A þoem 'ii!hich is 1Jlar!.-ed by the strel/gth, sustaincd s"weetness, ù1ld
t.:omþact !t:xture if 'rellllU'. OJ_X 01<..1'11 BRITISH RE\"IE\V.

Smith.-POE
lS. By C.\THERIXE B_\R
.\RD S
llrH.
8\'0. 5s.

Fcap.

" TVealthy ill feeling, lIletllling, finish, al/d graæ; not 'iilithout passioll,
'ii!hic/l is suþþnssed, but the keencr for that. "-ATIIE
_E[M.

Smith (Rev. VJ'alter).-IIY:\lXS OF CIIRJST AKD THE
CIIRISTL\
LIFE. By the Rev. \YALTER C. S:\IITH,
I.A.
Fcap. 8\'0. (js.

" These are among the SLi!t?t:tcSt sacrtd þocms 'i
'e ha'i!1! read f01' a long
tillll:. IVitll 110 þnifuse Ùlltlgäy, e.'tþn:ssillg a 'I-tlll,S't! of fCèling aJld
('xpressioll by '110 meallS 'lfI/COlllllLOn, thq are true and elei:ated, and their
pathos is þrifoll1ld and Sil/lfÙ."-Ko
cO
FORMlST.

Stratford de Redcliffe (Viscount).-SIIADO\YS OF
TIlE P .AST, in Yerse. By YISCOCl\T STR_\TFORD DE RED-
CLIFFE. Cro\\ n 8vo. I Os. 6d.

" The vigorous ,['ortis of one 'iúho has tlckd vigorously. Thf'Y cOll..bill

thefer'i'ouy if þoliticÙlIl Gnd þoet. "-GL\RDIAX.

Trench.-\Vorks by R. CIIE
EYIX TRE
ClI, D.D., Archbishop
01 Dublin.
èt' al.w .Sections "PHILOSOPHY, " "THEOLOGY," &c.

POE:\IS. Collected and arranged anew. Fcap. 8\"0. 7s. (jd.

ELEGIAC rOEl\IS. Third Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 2S. 6d.
CALDERON'S LIFE.S A DREA:\I: The Great Theatre of the
\Vorld. \\ïth an Essay on his Life and Genius. Fcap. 8vo.
4--". 6d.

POETRY
BELLES LETTRES.

33

Trench (Archbishop) (continued)-

HOUSEHOLD BOOK OF ENGLISH POETRY. Selected and
arranged, with Notes, by R. C. TRENCH, D. D., Archbishop of
Dublin. Extra fcap. 8vo. 5s. 6d.
This volume is called a " Household Book," by this flame implying that
t! is a book for all-that there is nothing Ùz it to preve1lt it from being
confidently plaad ill the hands of every member of the household. Speci-
mens of all classes of poetry are give1l, Í1zcludil1g selections from livÙw
authors. The Editor has aimed to pl'oduce a book "which the emigrant,
finding room for little not absolutely 1zecessar)', might ),et find 1Pom for
Ùl his trulIk, a1zd the "'aveller tOn his knapsack, and that on some ?lal'YO'UI
sheh'es 'itJ/lere there m'efew books this might be one."
" The Archbishop has cOliferred ill this ddightful volume an important
gzft on the whole English-speaking þopulatioll of the world." - PALL
MALL GAZETTE.

SACRED LATIN POETRY, Chiefly Lyrical. Selected and arranged
for Use. Second Edition, Corrected and Improved. Fcap. 8vo.
7 s .

" The aim of the present volume is to o.der to members of our E1lglish
Church a collection of the best sacred Lati1z þoetry, such as they shall be
able entirely and heartily to acceþt and app,'ove-a collection, that is, in which
they shall not be evermore liable to be offended, and to have the cun'ent oj
their sympathies checked, by coming upon that which, however beautiful as
,poetry, out of hi
her respects they must reject and condemn-in which, too,
they shall ltot fear that snares are being laid for them, to entangle them
unawares in admiration for ought which is inconsistent with their faith
and fealty to their (}L(Jn sþiritual mother."-PREFAcE.

Turner.-SOXXETS. By the ReV'. CHARLES TE
:'tYSON
TURXER. Dedicated to his brother, the Poet Laureate. Fcap.
8vo. 4S. 6d.

" The SOllnets are dedicated to ,JIr. Tt'llllJ'SOIl by his brother, and ha1/e,
indeþðzdently of their 1JlerLÏ
, all interest of associatio1l. They both loz'e to
7.iJ1"ite Í11 simPle eXþressive Saxon; botll loz'e to touch their -imagery in
eþitlzets rather than ill fOl'mlll similes; both have a delicate þerception
of rhythmical movement, and thus l'rfr. Turner has occasiollallilles which,
fiw phrase and music, might be ascribed to his brother. . . He knows the
C

34

GENER.AL CATALOGUE.

haunts of the wild rose, the shady nooks where light quivers through the
leaves, .the ruralities, in short, of the land of inwgination."-ATHENÆUM.
S:MALL TABLEAUX. Fcap.8vo. 4S.6d.
" These briif þoems have ?lot only a peculiar kind of interest for the
student of English poetry, but are intrinsically delightful, and will reward
a careful and frequent perusal. Full 0/ naivete, piety, love, and knowledge
0/ natural objects, and ea h expressing a single and generally a simPle
subject by means of nunute and original pictorial touches, these sonnets
have a place of their own. " - PALL :MALL GAZETTE.

Vittoria ColOnna.-LIFE AND POEl\iS. By Mrs. HENRY
ROSCOE. Crown 8vo. 9s.
The life of Vittoria Colon1la, the celebrated Marchesa di Pescara, has
recez."ved but cursory notice from a1lY English writer, though in every
history of Italy her name is mentioned witlt g1-eat honou1' am01lg the poets
ðj'the sixteenth celltU1-Y. "Ill three hundred and fifty years," says her
biograPher, Visconti, "there has been no other Italian lady who can be
compared to her. "
"It is written with good taste, with quick and intdligent sympathy,
occasionally with a real freshness and charm oj style." -PALL l\.IALL
GAZETTE.

Webster.-\Vorks by AUGUSTA \VEBSTER:-
"If ltfrs. Webster only remains true to herself, she will assuredly
take a higher rank as a poet than any woman has yet done."-
WESTMINSTER REVIEW.

DRAMATIC STUDIES. Extra fcap. 8vo. 5 s .
" A volume as strongly marked by þeifect taste as by þoetic þ071Jer."-
NONCONFORMIST.
PROMETHEUS BOUND OF ÆSCHYLUS. Literally translated
into English Verse. Extra fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d.
" Closeness and simPlicity combined with literary skill."-ATHENÆUM.
u 1111's. Webster's 'Dramatic Studies' and 'T1-allslatioll of Prome-
th
us' have 'Won for her an honourable place among our female poets.
She w1-ites with rcmarkable vigou1- and dramatic realization, and bids fair
to be the most successjitl claimant of 1Ifrs. Browning's mantle. "-BRITISH
QUARTERLY REVIEW.
MEDEA OF EURIPIDES. Literally translated into English Verse.
Extra fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d.

POETRY
BELLES LETTRES.

35

".AIrs. JVebster's translation surpasses our utmost expectations. It is a
photograPh of the original without any 0/ that harshness which so often
accompanies a photograph." - 'VEST),IINSTER REVIEW.
A 'VOl\IAN SOLD, AND OTHER POEl\IS. Crown 8vo. 7s.6d.
".ilIrs. JVebster has shown us that she is able to d1-aw admirably from
the life,. that she can observe with subtlety, and render her observationJ
with delicacy,. that she can impersonate complex conceptions, and venture
into which few livmg wn'ters can follow her."-GuARDIAN.
PORTRAITS. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d.
" There is not one of the' Portraits,' on which we would not willingly
dwell." -S PECTA TOR.

Woodward (B. B., F .S.A. ).-SPECI:\IENS OF THE
DRA \VIKGS OF TEN I\IASTERS, from the Royal Collection
at 'Vindsor Castle. 'Vith Descriptive Text by the late B. B. \V OOD-
WARD, B.A., F.S.A., Librarian to the Queen, and Keeper of
Prints and Drawings. Illustrated by Twenty Autotypes by
EDWARDS and KIDD. In 4to. handsomely bound, price 25s.
This 'l'olullle contains facsimiles of the works of llIichael A nJ[elo, Ptrugino,
RaPhael, '.Julio Romano, Leonardo da Vinci, Giorgione, Paul Veronese,
PoussÍ1t, Albert DiÙ-er, Holbein, executed b)' the Autotype (Carbon) process,
'which may be accepted as, so far, pe1:fect representations of the origÙzals. In
most caseJ" some reduction in size was necessary, and then the dt1llensioJts
of the drawing itself have been given. B1-ief biographical memoranda oj
the life 0/ each master an inserted, solely to prevent the need of referent:e
10 other wodu.

Woolner.-
IY BEA.UTIFUL LADY. By THOMAS 'VOOLNER.
'Yith a Vignette by ARTHUR HUGHES. Third Edition. Fcap.
8vo. 5s.
" It is clearly the product of 110 idle hour, but a highly-conceived and
faitltfully-executed task, self-imposed, and prompted by that Ùzwm-d yearn-
ing tv utter great thoughts, and a wealth 0/ þaJ'si01zate feeling which is
poetic genius. No mall can read tlzis poem w:tl[Otit being struck by tht
fitness and finish of the workmanship, so to sþeak, as well as by the chas-
tener/ anr/ unþretending loftiness of thought which pervades the whole."-
(;LOBE.

'YORDS FROl\I THE POETS. Selected by the Editor of " Rays of
Sunlight." 'Vith a Vignette and Frontispiece. I8mo. Extra
cloth gilt. 2S. 6d. Cheaper Edition, ISmo. limp., Is.

GLOBE

E D I T ION S.

UKDER the title GLOBE EDITIONS, the Publishers are
issuing a uniform Series of Standard English Authors,
-carefully edited, clearly and elegantly printed on toned
paper, strongly bound, and at a small cost. 1'he names of
the Editors whom they have been fortunate enough to
secure constitute an indisputable guarantee as to the
character of the Series. The greatest care has been taken
to ensure accuracy of text; adequate notes, elucidating
historical, literary, and philological points, have been sup-
plied; and, to the older Authors, glossaries are appended.
The series is especially. adapted to Students of our national
Literature; while the small price places good editions of
certain books, hitherto popularly inaccessible, within the
reach of all.
Shakespeare.-THE CO
IPLETE 'YORKS OF" \VILLIAM
SHAKESPEARE. Edited by W. G. CLARK and W. ALDIS
\VRIGHT. Ninety-first Thousand. Globe 8vo. 3s. 6d.
" A marvel of beauty, cheaþnes. r . and comþactness. The whole works-
plays, þoems, alld sonnets-are contained in one small volume: J/et the
þage is þeifec.fly clear and readable. . . . For the busy mall, abOl/e all
For the 1vo1-king Student, the Globe Edition is the best of all existillg
Shakesþeare books."-ATHENÆuM.

Marte D' Arthur.-SIR TIIOi\lAS l\iALORV'S BOOK OF
KING ARTHUR A
D OF HIS NOBLE KNIGHTS OF
THE ROUKD TABLE. The Edition of CAXTON, revised for
l\lodern Use. \Vith an Introduction by SIR EDWARD STRACHEY
.Bart. Globe 8vo. 3.r. 6d. New Edion.

GLOBE EDITIO
VS.

l7

" It is 'With the most þeifect confide1lce that 'we recommend this edition oj
the old romance to every class oj readers."-PALL l\lALL GAZETTE.

Scott.-THE POETICAL \YORKS OF SIR 'VALTER
SCOTT. 'Vith Biographical Essay by F. T. PALGRAVE.
Globe 8vo. 3s. 6d. i\ew Edition.

" As a þOþular edition it leaves nothing to be desired. The want oj
such all one has long been filt, combining real excellence with cheaþness."
-SPECTATOR.

BurnS.-TIIE POETICAL 'YORKS AXD LETTERS OF
ROBERT BUR:KS. Edited, with Life, by ALEXANDER S
UTH.
Globe 8vo. 3s. 6d. New Edition.

"The works of the bard have never been offered in such a comþleteform
in a single volume."-GLASGOW DAILY HERALD.
"Admirable in all resþects."-SPECTATOR.

Robinson Crusoe.-THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIKSON
CR U SO E. By DEFOE. Edited, from the Original Edition, by
J. \V. CLARK, M.A., Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge.
\Vith Introduction by HENRY KU,GSLEY. Globe 8\'0. 3s. 6d.

" The Globe Edition of Robinson Crusoe 'Ù a book to have and to keep.
It is printed after the original editions, with the quaint old sþelling, and
is þublished in admirable sl;,!e as regards tyþe, þaþer, and binding. A
1-vell-written and genial biograþhical introduction, by i1Ir. Henry Kingsley,
is likewise an attractivefiature of this edition."-MoRNING STAR.

Goldsmith.-GOLDS
nTH'S :MISCELLANEOUS \YORKS.
\Vith Biographical Essay by Professor ,MASSO
. Globe 8vo.
3s. 6d.

This edition includes the whole of Goldsmith's Afiscellaneotls Works-
the Vicar of f,-Vakefield, Plays, Poems, &c. Of the memoir the SCOTSMAN
newsþaþer writes: "Such an admirable compendium of the facts if
Goldsmith's life, and so careful and minute a delineation of the mixed
traits of his jJi'culiar character, as to be a very model of a litera?)'
biograþhy."

3 8

G.ENERAL CATALOGUE.

Pope.-THE POETICAL \VORKS OF ALEXANDER POPE.
Edited, with :l\Iemoir and 1\ otes, by Professor \V ARD. Globe
8vo. 3s. 6d.
" The book is handsome and hancl.y. . . . The note,r are mallY, and
the matter of them is rich in interest."-A THENiEUl\1.

Spenser. - THE CO:MPLETE 'VORKS OF ED
:iUND
SPENSER. Edited from the Original Editions and :Manuscripts,
by R.
IORRIS, :t\Iember of the Council of the Philological Society.
'Vith a l\Iemoir by J. 'V. HALES, M.A., late Fellow of Christ's
College, Cambridge, 1\Iember of the Council of the Philological
Society. Globe 8vo. 3s. 6d.
" A complete and charly printed edition of the whole works of Sþenser,
carefully collated 'Lt'ith the originals, with copious glossary, worthy-and
higher praise it needs not-of the b,:autiful Globe Series. The work is
edited with all the care so noble a poet desen'es."-DAILY NEWS.

Dryden.- .THE POETICAL 'YORKS OF JOH:
DRYDEN.
Edited, with a Revised Text, l\Iemoir, and Notes, by \V. D.
CHRISTIE. Globe 8vo. 3s.6d.

* /" Other Standard \V orks are in the Press.

iIr-t. * The Volumes of this Series may also be had in a variety of morocco
and calf bindings at very moderate Prices.

GOLDEN TREASURY SERIES.

Uniformly printed in 18mo., with Vignette Titles by SIR
NOEL PATON, T. 'VOOLNER, 'V. HOLMAN HFNT, J. E.
1hLLAIS, ARTHUR HUGHES, &c. Engraved on Steel by
J EENS. Bound in extra cloth, 4S. 6d. each volume. Also
kept in morocco.

" Afessrs. Afacmilllln have, in their Golden Treasury Serzes esþecially,
provided editions of standard works, volu.mes oj selected þoetry, and
original C071tþositiolls, which entitle this series to be called classical.
Nothing can be better than the Hterary execution, nothing more elegant
than the material 'Zvorkmansh,p."-BRITISH QUARTERLY REVIEW.

THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF THE BEST SONGS AND
LYRICAL POE
IS I
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.
Selected and arranged, with Notes, by FRANCIS TURKER
P ALGRA VE.

" This delighiful little volume, the Golden Treasu.ry, which contains
many of the best original lyrical þieces and songs in our language, grouþed
with care and skill, so as to illustrate each other like the þictu.res in a
well-arranged gallery." -QUARTERLY REVIEW.

THE CHILDREN'S GARLAND FRO
I THE :BEST POETS.
Selected and arranged by COVE
TRY PAT.MORE.
"It includes sþecimens of all the great masters in the art oj þoetry,
seleclt:d with the matured judgment of a man concentrated Oll obtaining
insight into the feelings and tastes of childhood, and desirous to awaken #s
finest imþulses, to t:ultivate its keenest selzsibilities." -:MORNING POST.

4 0

GE}"
ERAL CATALOG[E.

THE BOOK OF PRAISE. From the Best English Hymn "Tliters.
Selected and arranged by SIR ROUNDELL PALMER. A NtrdJ and
Enlarged EditlOn.

" All previous compilatiolls of this kind must undeniably for the þresent
give Place to the Book of Praise. . . . The selection has been made
throughout with sou1ld ju glllent and critical taste. The pains involved
in this comPilation must have been immense, embracing, as it does, every
writer of note in this special province of English literature, and ranging
ova the most widely divergent tracks oj religious thought."-SATURDAY
REVIEW.

THE FAIRY BOOK; the Best Popular Fairy Stories. Selected and
rendered anew by the Author of" JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN."
"A delightful selection-, in a delighifÚI external form.
. full of the
physical sPlendour and vast oþulence of proþer fairy tales."-SPECTATOR.

THE BALLAD BOOK. A Selection of the Choicest British BaIIads.
Edited by \VILLIAM ALLINGHAM.
" His taste as a judge of old poetry will be found, by all acquainted with
the various readings of old English ballads, true enough to justify his
undertaking so critical a task. "-SATURDAY REVIEW.

THE JEST BOOK. The Choicest Anecdotes and Sayings. Selected
and arranged by MARK LEMON.

" The fit/lest and best jest book that has J'et aþþeared."-SATURDAY
REVIEW.

BACON'S ESSAYS AND COLOURS OF GOOD AND EVIL.
vVith Notes and Glossarial Index. By \V. ALDIS \VRIGHT, l\1.A.
" The beautiful little edition of Bacon's Essays, now before us, does
credit to the taste and scholarshiP of ftIr. Aldis TVright. . . . It puts the
reader in possession of all the essential literary facts and chronology
necessary for reading the Essays Í1z cOIZ1zexion with Bacon's life and
times." -5 PECT A TOR.

" By far the most comþlete as well as the most elt!gant
dition we
pOSS!!SS."-\VEST
n.NSTER REVIEW.

GOLDEN TREASURY SERIES.

41

THE PILGRI
l'S PROGRESS from this \Vorld to that which is to
come. By JOHN BUNYAN.
"A beautiful alld sclwlarly reþrÍ1tt."-SPECTATOR.

THE SUNDAY BOOK OF POETRY FOR THE YOUKG.
Selected and arranged by C. F. ALEXANDER.
.' A well-selc:clt!tl volume of Sacred Poetry." -S PECT A TOR.

A BOOK OF GOLDEN DEEDS of all Times and all Countries.
Gathered and narrated anew. By the Author of " THE HEIR OF
REDeL YFFE. "
'c. . . To the)'oltllg,forwhom it is
speciallyÍ1ttellded, as a 1/lust illteresting
collection of thrilling tales well told
. and to their elders, as a useful hand-
book of refere1zce, alld a Pleasant one to take uþ when their wish is to while
away a weary haif-hour. We have seen 110 Dre/tier gift-book for a IOIl
::
time." -A THENÆU.i\I.

THE POETICAL \VORKS OF ROBERT BURNS. Edited, with
Biographical l\Iemoir, Notes, and Glossary, by ALEXA
DER
SMITH. Two V ols.
"Beyozzd all questio1l this is the most beautiful editioll. of Burns
yet out."-EDINBURGH DAILY REVIEW.

THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. Edited from
the Original Edition by J. \V. CLARK, :f\l.A., Fellow of Trinity
College, Cambridge.
" llfÚtilated and modified editiolts of this English classic are so muck
the rule, that a cheap and þretty copy of z."t, rigidly exact to the original,
will be a þriZl to many book-bztyers."-ExAMINER.

THE REPUBLIC OF PLATO. TRANSLATED into ENGLISH, with
Notes by J. Ll. DAVIES; l\LA. and D. J. VAUGHAN, :f\f.A.
".1 dainty and cheap little editioll."-ExA'}o.[JXER.

THE SOXG BOOK. \Vords and Tunes from the best Poets and
l\Iusicians. Selected and arranged by JOHN HULLAH, Professor
of Vocal 1\1 usic in King's College, London.
"A choice collectioll of the sterling songs of E1lglalla
Scotland, am!
Ireland, 'lDith the music of each prefixed to the 'l(lords. H(Td) much true
'wholesome pleasure, such a book call diffuse, and 'lvill diffuse, 'lue trust,
thr'JZl/
h mallY thousand (a11lilies."-ExA:"'IINER.
D

42

GENERAL CATALOGUE.

LA LYRE FRANCAISE. Selected and arranged, with Notes, hy
GUSTAVE :MASSON, French
iaster in Harrow School.
A selection oj the best French songs and lyrical pieces.

TO:\I BRO\VN'S SCHOOL DAYS. By an OLD Eoy.
" A peifect gem qf a book. The best and most healthy book about boys
For óoys that ever was written." ILLUSTRATED TIMES.

A BOOK OF \VORTHIES. Gathered from the Old Histories and
written anew by the Author of "THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE. "
\Vith Vignette.
"An. admirable edition to an admirable series. H - \YEST)U
STER
REVIEW.

LO
DOl' :
R CLAY, SOl'S, AND TAYLOR, HU
TEKS.
BREAD STREET HILI..

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CHURCH, RICHARD

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6315
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CHURCH, RICHARD
SAINT ANSELM
SEP .;

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